A VISIT TO CARDINAL MANNING.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVII, Issue 36, 27 December 1889, Page 3

A VISIT TO CARDINAL MANNING.

(Special correspondence of the Pilot,)

Dublin, October 7th. Archbishop's House, the lonely -looking palace of the Cardinal Archbishoo, stands in Carlisle Place, a quiet street of one of the main thoroughfares of Westminister. It was on a grey September morning, warm and still, and the newavendora were shrieking in the streets the announcement of the Utest Whitechapel trajrady, when, leaving the hum of traffic in Vauxhall Bridge road behind us, we came into the comparative silence of Carlisle Place. The Cardinal's outlook is not a cheerful one. In front of his windows is a waste plot of ground covered with rubbish of buildiDg materials, his site for the Catholic Cathedral, one day to be built. Ou another side the windows overlook a row of mean-looking workmen's houses, so that the Cardinal fittingly dwells with the poor always at his doors. On the other side, indeed, mansions broken up in luxurious sets of flats lie betweei Archbishop's House and the Convent of the Bisters of Charity, which flanks it at the other end of the ftreet, but the great windows look away from such comfortable neighbours. At the Cardinal's door, when we reached it, his old servant, who came to him from Cardinal Wiseman, was dismissing a needy-looking workman, a docker perhaps, for those were strike times. Wo went through a bare hall, all of grey stone, and up a wide stone stairs, which led to a ballistraded gallery overlooking the hall, and whence various doors go off. We wai ed for the Cardinal in a stately room— a room in which councils might be held. A long table went down the centre, and around it were great chairs, French chairs of ormolu and crimson satin, and with an air of old world magnificence. The room had its share of pictures and curioa. There was a portrait of Blessed John Fisher, an old portrait, or an exceedingly clever copy ; there was a large picture of the last Vatican Council, and a little one of Oar Lady of Good Counsel. Under a glass shade was Cardinal Wiseman's biretta, and on another table, in marble, an Italian Mater Dolorosa. There were also some deli3ately-painted portraits, family portraits apparently. All this one had time to notice before the Cardinal's entrance. Within this room is a smaller one, where he receives his visiterp sometimes ; of a wet or cold day it is easier to warm than the great room outside. This lesser room is more of a library, with bookcases at either end filled with the great in literature. On a sidetable here I noticed a set of the Greek poetg done into English. Presently the Cardinal came in, a tall old man and thin to attenuation, with the face of a saint, colourless and ascetic, in which the eyes, full of kindness, smiled forthe stern mouth. He was attired in a long cassock trimmed with the red of his Cardinal^ te, and on his thin silver hah there was a scarlet sknll-cap. As he seated himself in an arm-chair he drew his Irish visitor a chair by his left band with a gesture of fatherly kindness. One felt filled with a mixture of awe and reverent affection for him. He was tired with the labour aDd anxiety of the strike, and leaned back in his chair, looking very frail. His strength must be far greater than ie seems or he could never get through the work he does. He talked first of poetry, mentioning among recent poetry which had interested him that of Mr. Arthur Symons, whose ' Days and Nights," dealing, as they often do, with painful social problems, would naturally interest so great a social reformer as the Cardinal. Other poetry which he mentioned with much appreciation was that of Mrs, Hamilton King. Presently he branched off to other topics. Ireland, lying near his heart, easily came uppermost. He spoke of the goodness of her people. Before the Royal Commission on the housing of the poor it had been proved, he instanced, that in the mo3t extreme cases of poverty and overcrowding no such evils had arisen as in other countries ; drink was the only trouble, and toe drink question seemed to he heavily on him. He referred with satisfaction to the temperance work beintr done in Coik by Mrs. Barry and her helpers. He said the Irish made homes under the protection of God, and no enemy came to break through escepr drunkenness. " Men," said the Cardinal, "can build houses, but only God can build a home." Then ho branched away to the newspaper Press, aod wnat it was doing, and with special reference to the Catholic Press. The doings of a certain class of anti-Irish English Catholics and its mouthpieces in the Press must needs vex his heart. " The Weekly Register," he said with emphasis, ■• never offends." My friend had brought him a newspaper cutting which purposed to give authentic account of his way of living ; how he had a farm in the country whence come fowl, and egg 3, and butter for his table ; a pretty fiction over which his Eminence smiled as he read it. " There is my only farm," ho said, pointing to the desolate spot of building ground outside. The news of yet another Whitechapel horror seemed to move him deeply ; hid lace took on a new pallor, if that be possible, and as he closed bis eyes, in paiu and honor, he looked like a saint whose reward is already come. The sin and misery of the great city must he heavily at hia heart, though scarcely any other man has done as much to lessen the burden. I thought of what Lord Shafcesbury's eon wrote when his father lay dead : " I often heard my father say of you that wherever there was good to be done and evil to be fougat he was always sure of you."

One carries away two impressions from the Cardinal — his stateliness and bis meekness. He never for a moment is less than a prince, and there is an atmosphere of royalty about him which might well hi missing in the courts of this world, aa that the recipient of his sweetness feels at the heart a little throb of passionate loyalty with the reverence and love which go out to answer his graciousness. He is well-nigh, it seems to me, the mo9t impressive figure of our day. Unlike his great brother cardinal, though ne is a man of books be is also a man of affairs. He had done more to reconcile the English Protestant mind to the idea of priesthood than all thegeneratiods of prie9ts who went before him. To the most unlikely places, social gatherings and public meetings, and into the hives ot men, be goes carrying his Masters standard, and drawing eyes and hearts to follow it. Ha has had tne lullest possible life— the life of the world and the life of the cloister are alike open books

to bim. He is worn witb his eighty-one years—" those eighty-one steps"— steps up tha narrow s air of perfection and into the presence chamber of God, and he rules his life hardly, being a total abstainer and almost a vegetarian. He has travelled* through many prosperities and many trials to this grey palace of h»B, whither go the prayers and heart -beats of his spiritual children in London and the myriad of his spiritual children elsewhere, who are so through love and loyalty. Even in the eyes of men it is a proud lot, —far p/ouder than any to which he might have travelled from the green lanes and dusky woods of his Sussex parsonage. And away from the eyeß of men the gifts of God and the consolations of God are God's secret and sacred.

Kathabine Tynak.