OUR ROMAN LETTER

New Zealand Tablet, 18 November 1920, Page 22

OUR ROMAN LETTER

By Scottus Alter.

Among the tributes to Oliver Plunket which have found their way to Rome since his beatification, the latest, is a little pamphlet in German with an artistic souvenir card (designed by Erich Fejerabend, of Berlin),, published at Hildesheim, on the occasion of the solemn feasts held at Lamspringe in that diocese on the 25th July last in his honor. "A man who, though himself an Irishman, is also especially connected with our diocese of Hildesheim’’— runs the foreword to the pamphlet life —“was declared blessed in Rome by Pope Benedict XV. on May 23, the Pentecost of this year. For among us ho found his resting-place in the Lamspring monastery church, and to-day his grave may still be seen there along with noteworthy portions of his mortal remains.” Readers of recent accounts of Oliver Plunket will remember that, he bequeathed his body to Father Corker, 0.5.8., who finally brought it to the monastery of Lamspringe, which in 1643 had been made over to the English Benedictines through the charity of some German benefactors. The greater part of the relics were some years ago transferred to Downside in England, but some remained at Lamspringe in the monastery (now the parish church), and the parochial council, with the Bishop of Hildesheim determined to celebrate his beatification in a way worthy of the evenut, restoring for the occasion the crypt of the church of St. Hadrian, and solemnly exposing the relics to the veneration of the faithful. The little life published for the occasion is the work of Father Lambert Nolle, a Benedictine from Erdington in England. Like everything human, the publication is, of course, not perfect. Some mistakes -—such as the statement on the souvenir card that Oliver was brought to the Tower, or the reference at p. 15 of the life to the “Irish Dominican Convent of St. Isidore's in Rome” —may be put down to haste. Others seem, however, to show a want of historical judgment. The characteristic of his martyrdom singled out as a starting-point for the panegyric is that he “laid down his life in sacrifice as the last in the glorious series of the blood-witnesses, who in England died for the true Church” —the statement of this

point of view (expressed in practically the same words as those of Cardinal Gasquet a few months ago on thq Carrier e It alia) being repeated both on the souvenir card and in the first sentence of the life. It is right to add that the author, unlike his Eminence, qualifies his viewpoint by noting the difference between the previous martyrs who suffered at Tyburn from their own countrymen and the B. Oliver Riunket, who was brought for trial to London because none, Catholic or Protestant, could be found to* condemn him in Ireland. A similar fault is the exaggerated idea of the spectral importance of Ulster Protestantism, past and present (pp; 14, 4,7), the author- moreover apparently considering Meath to be in the North of Ireland, and the Plunkets a family in “north-east; Ireland.”

In spite, however, of these involuntary faults, the life is a simple, readable account, and a credit to this German parish which “invokes the Blessed Oliver full of confidence that in these times of stress he will be their spokesman with God, and looks to him as a shining exemplar in the Catholic life of Faith.” •

The following is taken from a little essay in the Carrier?. (V alia for September 4, from the pea of a brilliant writer on that journal signing himself “ft.'’ It is of interest from many points of view, and lo men of Irish race especially it must be gratifying and consoling as showing that among Catholics here at the centre of Christendom, a heroic sacrifice made for their country is given its true significance and valued at its true worth. The article is entitled “A Victory.’' “If suicide could ever be an act of potent and persevering energy, that would be a heroic, suicide a contradiction in terms. But the suicidesthe piteous throng of the weak, the cowardly, the mad —- prefer the dose of potassium or the revolver-shot. It is done quicker. In this torture of the Lord Mayor of Cork, in this passion freely accepted—not from hatred of life but for love of a great love —passes the shade of a great martyrdom. It is the martyrdom of Ireland, an old shame, an ancient and untarnished honor for the faith of God —that is for liberty, for justice, for truth—for all the sacred things which die not and which the temple sanctifies and guards, this glorious island of flic Sain Is suffers, for centuries, and looks to Rome with undaunted hope with Rome she suffers, with Rome she trusts. “English hatred (who does not know it?) swooped down on Ireland full and bloody with the hatred of Rome; there is, at the bottom of this tragedy, the obstinate and self-sufficient obsceneness of a Henry who denied the faith for a half-dozen strumpets — a charming chapter in the annals of divorce ! There is this old combination of pride and filth which tries to suffocate the heroic Island. It is the Stomach —always -—against the Soul. The Puritan sou pi esse of the politicians and political pedlars of to-day succeeds, but poorly in effacing the old trade mark. In a meeting held in the neighborhood of the prison, where the Lord Mayor is hi his agony. Professor Stockly said ‘The Lord Mayor of Cork is dying in prison because he fought for the principles in the name of which the English Government made war: the independence of small nations.’ “. . . This man in flesh and bone, this man with his head on his shoulders, who is ready to give his life, drop by drop, for the fatherland of Daniel O’Connell, this mouth 'which takes no food—and which articulates barely a few monosyllablesshouts for the world words of eternity. ... • . “I saluted, some days ago, under our Latin sun, in the sight of Rome, the graceful tri-color of the Irish Republic—so like the tri-color of my native land ; the white, yellow and green flag which joins the colors, glorious for Rome, of St. Peter, the white and yellow with the bright green of the emerald of Ireland. This agony of the Irish Lord Mayor sweeping victory of Soul over Stomachis a page of faith.” The Vice-Rector and students of the Irish College had a few weeks ago the. honor of a visit in their

country villa from his .Lordship the. f ßishop of Tivoli. Addressing the students in the morning,' he referred with feeling to the late Rector, Mgr. O’Riordan. As the students were being presented to him, - he noticed many of them wearing the Fainne (the badge of a society binding its members to speak only Irish among themselves), and on, enquiring' and learning its meaning, he expressed his admiration for the ideals it embodied. Such, it may be added, is frequently the effect of the Fairme in Italy. The little symbol attracts the attention of observant Italians, and leads to a wide understanding, not only of the language question, but; of the whole Irish situation. Replying to the toast of the Vice-Rector, and the welcome given him in the name of the absent Rector, his Lordship referred among other things to the solidarity of the whole Catholic episcopate with the bishops of Ireland , and Australia in their protest against the tyranny by which a Catholic Archbishop is prevented from visiting his family and his brethren in the ministry, and toasted “the complete independence of Ireland.” His Lordship, who is much interested in music, expressed his appreciation of the characteristic music of the Irish songs from Father Walsh’s fine collection, “Ceol Ar Siunsear” which were sung after, and also of the pastoral grace of the words of A if/ilia mi Gamhmi, which were translated for him. The little after-dinner entertainment concluded with the singing, at the request of his Lordship, of the National Anthem in Irish.