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INDUSTRY AND SELF-CULTURE. 
 
 LECTUEE 
 
 DELIVERED BY 
 
 HIS EMINENCE MOST EEY. PATEICK F. MOEAN, 
 CavUuxal gircijtnsfjop of jSptmep, 
 
 IN THE HEADING ROOMS OF THE KILKENNY CATHOLIC 
 YOUNG MEN’S SOCIETY. 
 
 DUBLIN: 
 
 BROWNE & NOLAN, PRINTERS, NASSAU-STREET. 
 1885. 
 
J> 7ir. 
 
 INDUSTRY AND SELF-CULTURE. 
 
 His Eminence rising said — My clear young friends of the 
 Catholic Young Men’s Society, I do not propose in my 
 Address to you this evening to lead you into a philo- 
 sophical inquiry, nor is it my intention to sketch the laws 
 and rules which should guide you in the paths of industry 
 and self-culture. I wish rather to pursue my subject by 
 the way of examples, and to set before you a few instances 
 of earnest and devoted men, who, without the advantages 
 which wealth or rank may bring, availed of the oppor- 
 tunities within their reach, cultivated their talents and 
 disciplined their mind, and thus lifting themselves up in 
 the social scale, became ornaments of society and conferred 
 blessings on their follow-men. 
 
 It is unfortunately too true that many young men at the 
 present day prefer a life of indolence to industry, and 
 too many fritter away the years of youth and early 
 manhood in idleness or vain pursuits. A thousand 
 excuses are never wanting to justify them in such a course. 
 Some will say, Oh ! it is all the fault of a bad government. 
 But they who thus speak appear to forget that it is not 
 within the domain of government, no matter what its form or 
 its perfection may be, to intrude itself at each one’s fireside 
 even under the pretence to cultivate our individual talents 
 or to bring home to us the untold blessings of persevering 
 industry and domestic peace. An old writer has well 
 said that a government should be like the fence which the 
 farmer constructs around his lands. It should afford 
 needful protection, and ward off intruders, and guard from 
 injury ; but it is not the fence that can trim the flowers or 
 
 ^<9 3 / 
 
4 
 
 reap the harvest, or ripen the fruit ; and on the owner 
 himself it must depend whether the land which he has 
 enclosed shall be a smiling garden or a desert waste. 
 
 There are some also who appear to fancy that if they 
 were blessed with wealth, or if they held some little post 
 of honour and emolument, their happiness would be 
 complete. But wealth or dignity of themselves do not 
 bring contentment and peace. Even more than poverty 
 they stand in need of industry, energy and toil, and 
 without noble sentiments, and self-discipline, and the 
 training of the mind, riches and titles are oftentimes little 
 better than a burden. 
 
 “ Can gold calm passion, or make reason shine ? 
 
 Can we dig peace or wisdom from the mine ? 
 
 Nothing is meaner than a wretch of state ; 
 
 The happy only are the truly great.” 
 
 You have probably heard of the wealthy Englishman 
 who, in the last century, whilst enjoying a yachting tour, 
 fell into the hands of Turkish corsairs and w r as led off to 
 slavery in Algiers. He had been for a long time a martyr to 
 gout ; but during the two years that he was kept in 
 slavery, he was fed on bread and water, and forced to 
 work every day making bricks under the broiling sun of 
 Africa. When he was at length ransomed he was found 
 to be perfectly freed from the gout, and till the day of his 
 death he never again suffered from its attacks. Lord 
 Bacon calls riches 46 the baggage of virtue.” If an army 
 in battle-array be intent solely on its baggage, the victory 
 will soon be lost. So, too, unless we have industry and 
 make good use of riches they can be but of little avail to 
 us. There are not wanting those who make the proper 
 use of wealth, great souls, who 
 
 “ Touch’d with warmth divine 
 Give gold a price, and teach its beams to shine : 
 
 All hoarded treasures they repute a load, 
 
 Nor think their wealth their own, till well bestowed.” 
 
5 
 
 Bat others with no end of riches never enjoy a day’s 
 happiness. Take for instance the nobleman with £50,000 
 per year, whose death-bed scene is described by Pope : 
 
 “ In the worst inn’s worst room, with mat half hung, 
 
 The floors of plaster and the walls of dung ; 
 
 On once a flock-bed, but repaired with straw, 
 
 With tape-tied curtains never meant to draw; 
 
 The George and Garter dangling from that bed 
 Where tawdry yellow strove with dirty red — 
 
 Great Villiers lies. 
 
 No wit to flatter left of all his store, 
 
 No fool to laugh at, which he valued more, 
 
 There victor of his health, of fortune, friends 
 And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends.” 
 
 But to proceed to the more immediate subject of my 
 lecture, the first example that I will set before you is that 
 of the illustrious Sovereign Pontiff Sixtus V. 
 
 About one hundred miles below Ancona, on a crest of 
 the Apennines, in one of the least frequented parts of that 
 classic land, with the blue waters of the Adriatic spread 
 out before it, and the highest mountains of Umbria 
 towering in the distance, stands the castellated hamlet of 
 Grottamare. There, Felice Peretti, the future Pope, w 7 as 
 born in 1521. His father was an humble gardener, v 7 ho 
 had to struggle all his life against the direst poverty, and 
 his mother, in order to find bread for the children, was 
 obliged to take service with a wealthy neighbour. The 
 young Felice v 7 as himself for a time a swineherd on the 
 neighbouring hills. It w r as only after a long and earnest 
 appeal that the father permitted his child to go to school ; 
 for the family, he said, stood in need of his help. Very 
 soon, by his attention to his lessons, the youth attracted 
 the notice of a Franciscan Friar who used often to visit 
 the school, and who was particularly struck by his 
 earnestness, as v T ell as by his talents and piety. At 
 twelve years, through the influence of this good friend, he 
 became an inmate of the neighbouring Franciscan 
 
6 
 
 monastery, at Montalto, and lie brought with him to the 
 cloister the love of discipline and the devotedness to 
 study which had characterized his earlier years. Promoted 
 to the priesthood, he soon ranked among the most fervent 
 preachers of the age. It w r as no small tribute to his 
 eloquence and piety that, when he preached in Rome, all 
 that were most distinguished in its schools and religious 
 houses gathered around his pulpit, foremost among them 
 being St. Ignatius of Loyola, St. Philip Neri, and Cardinal 
 Chislieri, afterwards Pope, and honoured on our altars as 
 St. Pius V. At every stage of his eventful career he was 
 remarkable for three things ; that is for his love of books, 
 and of the fine arts, and of building. On the 3rd day of 
 the Conclave, after the death of Gregory XIII. Cardinal 
 Peretti was proclaimed Pope, and took the name of Sixtus V. 
 His Pontificate, though short, for it lasted only five years, 
 was nevertheless one of the most brilliant that adorn the 
 Annals of the Church. It has been truly said of him that 
 he held in his firm hand the balance of European power. 
 He saved religion in France, and with it saved the French 
 monarchy. He dealt a death-blow to Lutheranism in 
 Germany. He strove to consolidate the Kingdom of 
 Poland as a bulwark of civilization and of Europe against 
 the Ottoman incursions, and against the Russian power. 
 He banished public crime from the Papal States, rooted 
 out the lawless bands of banditti that made life and 
 industry insecure, and reformed the whole administration 
 of justice. The material aspect of the city of Rome was 
 renewed with an unrivalled magnificence. The genius of 
 Michael Angelo had devised the wondrous dome to crown 
 the noblest church in Christendom. Twenty years had 
 now elapsed since his death, and no one had dared to take 
 in hand the task of erecting it. Public opinion was 
 beginning to entertain a fixed idea that nothing short of a 
 miracle could achieve this work. It was achieved, however, 
 by the indomitable will of Sixtus Y. He built the Vatican 
 Library ; and one of the most distinguished Italians of the 
 present day has not hesitated to write of this great work 
 
7 
 
 that, “ to it Italy owes the most splendid of her glories, 
 and the preservation and recovery of the classic arts and 
 culture, and not unfrequently her priority in all kinds of 
 literature and science.’ ’ Several quarters of the city were 
 badly provided with water. He spanned the Campagna 
 with an aqueduct, resting on tiers of arches, and extending 
 over more than twenty miles, and brought an inexhaustible 
 supply, which has ever since proved a blessing, especially 
 to the poorer citizens. He erected the magnificent 
 obelisk which adorns the piazza of St. Peter’s. It had 
 once stood in Nero’s circus, but was cast down during the 
 incursions of the Barbarians. Many times men had 
 devised schemes for re-erecting it, but had given up their 
 projects in despair. Even Michael Angelo declared such 
 an undertaking to be impracticable. That was not the 
 age of electricity and steam, yet Sixtus Y. decreed that the 
 work should be commenced. Very soon the salvos of 
 cannon from St. Angelo’s and the enthusiastic cheers of 
 an immense concourse of people announced that the 
 enterprise w T as happily accomplished. Thus every day new 
 works were planned, streets were marked out, churches 
 built, monuments erected. Of the Emperor Augustus it 
 was said that he found Rome a city of brick, and that he 
 left it a city of marble. Something similar might be 
 repeated of this great Pope. Shortly after the death of 
 Sixtus V., a Benedictine Abbot thus w T rote from the 
 Eternal City: “I am here after an absence of ten years, 
 and do not recognise the city, so new does all appear to me 
 to be : monuments, streets, piazzas, fountains, aqueducts, 
 obelisks, and other wonders, all the work of Sixtus V. If 
 I were a poet I would say that at the imperious sound of 
 the trumpet of that magnanimous Pope, the wakened 
 limbs of that half-buried and gigantic body which spreads 
 over the Latin Campagna had been summoned to life, 
 and that, thanks to the power of his fervent and 
 exuberant spirit, a new Borne had arisen from the ashes 
 of the old.” 
 
 Such were the great deeds of the Sovereign Pontiff, 
 
8 
 
 whose early days were spent tending swine on the coast of 
 the Adriatic. 
 
 I will now cite the example of one w r hose world-wide 
 fame has added lustre to the Cardinalitial dignity in our 
 own days, I mean Cardinal Mezzofanti, the greatest 
 linguist that the world has ever known. He was born in 
 Bologna on the 17th of September, 1774. His father was 
 a carpenter by trade. The young Mezzofanti having 
 learned the mere rudiments, began to work in his father’s 
 shop. It is said that close by the shop there was a 
 classical school, and the youth overhearing the lessons in 
 Latin and Greek, and applying himself privately to study, 
 soon began to acquire a thorough knowledge of these 
 languages. A Priest of the Oratory in Bologna seeing his 
 talent directed him in his studies. One day this good 
 Priest was called away whilst giving him some lesson, and 
 on his return looked in vain for his little pupil. There 
 was a chest of drawers in a corner of the room, and the 
 young Mezzofanti getting into one of the drawers and 
 partially closing it had fallen fast asleep. In due course 
 Mezzofanti was promoted to Holy Orders, and during the 
 invasion of North Italy by the allied army under the 
 Prussian General Suwarrow, he gave singular proof of his 
 linguistic powers. Among the wounded soldiers in the 
 hospitals of Bologna there were some from Poland, and 
 Ptoumania, and Finland, and almost every other province 
 of Ptussia or Austria. When summoned to the bedside 
 of these sufferers, a few days sufficed for him to 
 acquire a knowledge of each one’s language and even 
 of the particular dialect which he spoke, so that 
 he w T as able to impart to them all the consolations of 
 religion. Lord Byron visited him in Bologna in 1820, 
 and pronounced him to be “ a walking polyglot and a 
 monster of languages.” A distinguished Hungarian 
 astronomer, writing from Bologna in the same year, says : 
 “The annular eclipse of the sun was one curiosity, and 
 Mezzofanti was another.’’ Pope Gregory XVI. invited 
 him to Iiome. His answer was characteristic: “ Holy 
 
9 
 
 Father, people say that I can speak a great many lan- 
 guages. In no one of them, nor in them all, can I find 
 words to express how deeply I feel this mark of your 
 Holiness’s regard.” The highest honours were heaped 
 upon him at the Roman Court, and in a few years he was 
 promoted to the Cardinalate. When I was a young student 
 in the Irish College, Rome, he used to come to the College 
 in Cardin alitial state on St. Patrick’s Day, to say Mass in 
 honour of our national Apostle. More than once it was 
 my privilege, with another student, to serve his Mass on 
 these occasions ; and when, as usual, after Mass, we 
 accompanied him from the church to the breakfast hall, 
 he would chat with us on the way about our national 
 literature, and cite long passages from Moore and Milton 
 and other classical English writers. On another occasion, 
 in 1847, I accompanied the late Archbishop of Tuam to 
 some solemn ceremony at the Sistine Chapel in the 
 Vatican. Whilst waiting in the vestibule, Cardinal 
 Mezzofanti happened to be passing, and stopped to speak 
 with the Archbishop. After a few sentences in Irish, the 
 Cardinal continued the conversation in English, expressing 
 his regret that he had not had leisure to devote more 
 attention to the Celtic, a language that he prized so 
 much. When the Archbishop addressed some comple- 
 mentary words to him on his wonderful knowledge of 
 so many languages, the Cardinal exclaimed : “ Vox 
 
 et praeterea nihil “ I am a voice, and nothing more.” 
 He was then old, and the words seemed most appro- 
 priate, for he was so remarkably thin, and slight, and 
 weak, that one would fancy the first breeze would 
 carry him away. Two years later he died, and his 
 remains were deposited in San Onofrio, where Tasso 
 rests in peace. 
 
 But I must choose some instances from other walks of 
 life. The celebrated Giotto holds a foremost place among 
 the great restorers of painting in the 14th century. He 
 was the son of a poor shepherd, and passed his early years 
 tending the flocks in his native Tuscan valley of Vespignano. 
 
10 
 
 Even whilst thus engaged, he endeavoured to cultivate his 
 talent for drawing, and essayed to reproduce on some 
 fragment of rock or slate the sheep and the trees and other 
 forms of nature that were around him. One of his simple 
 designs being brought under the notice of Cimabue, that 
 great master invited him to his studio, and gave him 
 lessons in the art of painting. Giotto soon outstripped 
 all his compeers. There was this particular that gave 
 perfection to his style of art, that he introduced into his 
 paintings all that was beautiful in nature, whilst he 
 exhibited, at the same time, an unrivalled ideal elevation, 
 and grandeur of character. Florence, Padua, Verona, 
 Pisa, Naples, and Home vied with each other in their 
 efforts to be enriched with his works. We are told that 
 Pope Boniface VIII. sent a messenger to visit the different 
 studios throughout Italy to procure specimens of the 
 artists’ skill, and when he came to Giotto, the famous 
 painter, in reply to his queries, took a paper and pencil, 
 and, resting his elbow on his side to form a sort of compass, 
 with one turn of his hand drew a circle so perfect and 
 exact that it was a marvel to behold. “ Is this all that I 
 am to get ?” asked the courtier. “ That is enough and to 
 spare,” replied Giotto, “put it with the rest and see will 
 it be recognised.” It is needlees to add that it was recog- 
 nised, and that some of the most remarkable of Giotto’s 
 masterpieces are those that, thanks to the Pontiff’s 
 patronage, adorn the halls of the Vatican. He was no less 
 famed as an architect than as a painter. The matchless 
 Campanile or Bell-tower of Florence is perhaps the greatest 
 monument of his architectural skill. It is encrusted with 
 many coloured marbles from the base to the summit, and 
 no engraving or photograph can give an idea of the chaste 
 elegance of the columns, and the tracery of the windows 
 which give lightness to this structure, nor of the finish and 
 soft harmony of the whole building. Buskin avows himself 
 enchanted with this great monument of the 14th century, 
 and treating of the “ Seven Lamps of Architecture,” 
 declares that they are all combined, “ and that in their 
 
11 
 
 highest possible relative degrees, only in one building of 
 the world, the Campanile of Giotto at Florence.” Such 
 were the works of the Tuscan shepherd-boy. He was 
 the cherished friend of all the literary men of the 
 day, and his fame is enshrined in the writings of 
 Dante and Petrarch. He died in the year 1336, at 
 the age of sixty, and was interred in the Cathedral 
 of Florence, with all the pomp and ceremony befitting 
 the obsequies of one whom all Italy honoured and 
 revered. 
 
 Claude of Lorraine attained pre-eminence in landscape 
 painting. He was a native of Lorraine, and served his 
 time as a pastry-cook. His parents dying, a relative who 
 travelled as a lace-dealer took the young Claude to Italy, 
 but deserted him quite penniless in Rome. He was there 
 employed as servant by a painter, for whom he cooked 
 and cleansed the brushes and mixed the paints. He 
 accompanied his master when sketching the scenery 
 of the Sabine hills, and, humble though his duties 
 were, his observant mind neglected not a single one of the 
 varied beauties of nature that are scattered there. The 
 waterfall at Tivoli, with the surrounding scenery, and the 
 Autumn sunset, seen from the slopes of Monte Catullo, 
 left an indelible impression on his mind, and in after years 
 he would seem to have taken them as his ideal in his 
 greatest works. Robertson does not hesitate to say that 
 4 4 for purity of atmosphere, sunny serenity of sky, and all- 
 pervading sweetness, the landscapes of Claude are still 
 without a rival;” and Charles Blanc writes : 44 he is the 
 only painter who could look in the face of the sun, who 
 could paint atmosphere as necessary to the life of the 
 landscape as to the respiration of man. Nicholas Poussin 
 exaggerated nature as if she were insufficient of herself to 
 fill his heart with grandeur ; and Gaspar Poussin drama- 
 tized his landscapes by the introduction of storm and 
 tempest ; but the beautifully emotional nature of Claude 
 lifts us into a land which is a paradise in its peace and 
 brightness, and dream-like in its light and splendour.” 
 
12 
 
 He was never ashamed of his humble origin, and a little 
 before his death one of his friends, giving a sketch of 
 his career, added : “ If ever anyone from poor beginnings 
 or scanty learning became so skilled in painting as 
 to fill the world with his fame this was surely our 
 Claude, universally known by the name of his native place 
 ^-Lorraine.” 
 
 Canova, the founder of the modern school of sculpture 
 in Italy, was the child of humble parents, living in a village 
 of the Venetian territory. In childhood he displayed a 
 taste for modelling, and was thus introduced to the 
 patronage of a Senator of Venice, who provided for his 
 artistic training in a sculptor’s studio. In his forty-fifth 
 year, Canova was appointed chief curator of all works of 
 art in the Papal States. Napoleon was then at the zenith 
 of his popularity, and Canova was called away to Paris to 
 furnish a model for a colossal statue of the idol of the 
 French people. Napoleon, full of admiration for the artist’s 
 genius, pressed him to remain in Paris. “I could not live 
 away from the treasures of Rome,” Canova answered. 
 “But,” said Napoleon, “I will bring to Paris everything 
 that is worth having at Rome.” “ You should bring Rome 
 itself,” was Canova’s reply. Napoleon, too literally, 
 endeavoured to carry out his threat. But when the idol 
 of French popularity was cast down, and peace restored 
 in 1815, Canova was the person deputed by the Papal 
 Government to proceed to Paris to recover the works of art 
 of which Rome had been despoiled. 
 
 Our Cathedral is enriched with a beautiful statue of the 
 Blessed Virgin of the Immaculate Conception, one of the 
 first religious subjects that won for the artist Benzoni a 
 distinguished place among the sculptors of the present 
 day. In my younger years I often visited his studio, and 
 prominent there was the cast of a noble monument which 
 he had presented as a gift to his native town in North Italy. 
 It represented a venerable old man who grasped with one 
 hand a young lad in tattered garments, and lifting him up 
 from his poor condition, pointed with the other to the 
 
13 
 
 artist’s chisel and various implements of art placed within 
 his reach. And Benzoni took care to explain to the 
 visitor that he himself was the poor lad thus rescued 
 from poverty, and that he had executed this monument 
 as a lasting memorial of his gratitude to his generous 
 benefactor. 
 
 The great musical composer Haydn, was the son of a 
 struggling wheelwright. Almost from his childhood he 
 sang in the cathedral choir of St. Stephen’s, at Vienna. 
 In his sixteenth year, however, his voice broke, and unable 
 to sing any longer in the choir, he began to give lessons 
 in instrumental music, and in this manner earned a main- 
 tenance. In his twenty-eighth j T ear, Prince Esterhazy 
 placed him at the head of his private chapel. Whilst he 
 held this post, the Prince formed the design of dismissing 
 his hand. Haydn, hearing of it, composed the famous 
 symphony, which is known as “ Haydn’s Farewell,” in 
 which one instrument after another becomes mute, and 
 each musician, as soon as he has ceased to play, puts out 
 his light, rolls up his music, and departs with his instru- 
 ment. Esterhazy was so struck by this admirable compo- 
 sition that he changed his mind and retained the band. 
 Haydn spent the closing years of his life in the Imperial 
 Palace at Schonbrunn, situated in the most fashionable 
 suburbs of Vienna. Full of gratitude to his imperial 
 benefactor, he not only every day, but many times each 
 day, would perform on the piano, and sing, in his feeble 
 voice, “ God save the Emperor.” He was in his last 
 illness when the French armies approached Vienna in 1809. 
 A battery was erected close to the palace where he lodged. 
 A few days later, as life was ebbing away, he had his piano 
 moved to his bedside, and three times he sang, as loudly as 
 he could, “ God save the Emperor, this was his last 
 effort, and the great musician, a few hours later, fell into 
 his long sleep. 
 
 The life of George Kemp, architect of the beautiful Sc3tt 
 monument at Edinburgh, affords another instance of the 
 success which is sure to attend industry and ability. He 
 
14 
 
 was the son of a herd, who pursued his calling on the 
 southern slope of the Pentland hills. In his tenth year, 
 lie was sent on a message to Roslyn, and the sight of its 
 beautiful castle and chapel, made a vivid impression on hia 
 mind. He served his time as a carpenter at Galashiels, 
 and when travelling from place to place with his tools on 
 his back, took occasion to visit the noble ruins of Melrose, 
 or Dryburgh, or Jedburgh, or some of the other monu- 
 ments that abound in that neighbourhood. In order to 
 cultivate his taste for architecture, he worked his way 
 as a carpenter over the greater part of the north of 
 England, availing himself of every opportunity to study 
 and make sketches of its Gothic structures. On 
 one occasion he travelled fifty miles on foot that he might 
 visit the magnificent cathedral of York. Anxious to study 
 the grand mediaeval monuments of France, he proceeded 
 to the Continent. His skill as a mechanic, and especially 
 his knowledge of mill-work, readily secured him employ- 
 ment wherever he went, and he usually chose for his work 
 the neighbourhood of some fine old Gothic structure, and 
 beneath its shadow he occupied his leisure hours. When 
 the Committee of the National monument to be erected 
 to Sir Walter Scott, offered a prize for the best design, 
 some of the greatest names in classical architecture 
 entered the lists of competition ; but the design presented 
 by George Kemp won the prize, and was unanimously 
 selected. 
 
 None better understood the advantages that accrue from 
 this discipline of labour than Pugin, whose name shall ever 
 remain identified wfith the revival of ecclesiastical archi- 
 tecture in England. Having learned in his father’s office 
 all that could be taught him there, he hired himself as a 
 common carpenter at one of the London theatres, that he 
 might acquire a familiarity with work, whilst at the same 
 time he continued to cultivate his architectural taste. At 
 times he worked a sailing ship between London and the 
 Continental ports, making drawings of the great ecclesias- 
 tical buildings wherever be went. He also made repeated 
 
15 
 
 journeys to study the mediaeval cathedrals of France and 
 Germany. Thus he indefatigably laboured, till he at- 
 tained that pre-eminence which has been most justly 
 accorded him. 
 
 I might take very many examples to illustrate my subject 
 from the lives of our English poets. Such, for instance, 
 was Eobert Burns, the great lyric poet of Scotland. His 
 father was a nursery gardener, who had to struggle all his 
 life with poverty and misfortune, but who nevertheless 
 made every exertion to keep his children at school. As a 
 boy, Eobert was dull, and was only remarkable for being 
 very much given to athletic sports. He studied hard, how- 
 ever, and in his 16th year began to write some poems in 
 the Scottish dialect. Till his 25th year he cultivated a 
 small farm, but his labour not proving successful he resolved 
 to quit his native land and to emigrate to Jamaica. In 
 order to procure sufficient money to pay his passage, he 
 published a small volume of poems. His genius was at 
 once recognised. He very soon gave up all thoughts of 
 Jamaica, and found himself in Edinburgh associated w 7 ith 
 all that was eminent in letters, rank, and fashion. He 
 experienced, however, the fickleness of patronage and 
 applause, and was only in liis 37th year when, towards 
 the close of the last century, he died in the greatest 
 w T retchedness. His poems were a precious inheritance 
 to his country ; they were the first awakening of the 
 spirit of true poetry in Great Britain after a long 
 slumber, and the popularity which they at once acquired 
 has continued unabated wherever the English language 
 is spoken. 
 
 What shall I say of Shakespeare, the chief literary glory 
 of England ? His father was a glover in the town of 
 Stratford-on-Avon, in Warwickshire, and appears also to 
 have held a small farm. Several losses, however, brought 
 the family to ruin, and our poet at the early age of fourteen 
 years was withdrawn from school, and forced to seek a 
 livelihood as best he could. We meet with him at one 
 time as a butcher’s assistant, at another as a schoolmaster, 
 
16 
 
 and again as a prompter’s attendant in a London theatre. 
 But all this time he silently cultivated his powers as a 
 dramatist, and step by step lie won his way to the very 
 foremost rank among the writers for the stage. England 
 is still proud of his genius, and reckons him among her 
 greatest sons, fully endorsing the lofty eulogy pronounced 
 by Dryden : “He was the man, who, of all modern and 
 perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most compre- 
 hensive soul.” 
 
 Some of these men may not have been everything that 
 we would wish them to have been. They may have strayed 
 away at times into the devious ways of extravagance and 
 folly, or perhaps of vice. But it is not in their faults that 
 we are to follow them. We must only the more particularly 
 admire and emulate their energy in overcoming the diffi- 
 culties that strewed their path, and their care and industry 
 in cultivating the talents which nature gave them. And 
 here I maybe permitted to use the illustration of Lacordaire. 
 We do not judge of the sea by the scum which it casts 
 upon the strand, nor do we admire its seething foam when 
 it is lashed to fury by the tempest. But all this does not 
 lesson the pleasure with which we listen to the harmony 
 of its waves, or the delight with which we look out upon 
 its boundless expanse when its tranquil waters reflect the 
 beauty of the firmament and mirror to the thoughtful mind 
 the glory of the Creator. 
 
 But to return to our subject, it may interest you to have 
 an example from one who, for a quarter of a century, was 
 justly ranked among the leaders of the Catholic Press of 
 France. Louis Yeuillot died in Paris in the month of 
 April of the present year. His family were humble peasants 
 in the department of Loiret. His father, a journeyman 
 cooper, came to Paris in search of employment when Louis 
 was only five years old, and after a time opened a small 
 shop. Louis, in one of his works, relates that whilst he 
 was a child he felt indignant at the tone of insolence and 
 superiority with which rich infidel customers used to give 
 their orders in the poor shop of his father. “ Why should 
 
17 
 
 this be (he used to ask) for my father is good and brave 
 and strong, and has never wronged anyone ; whilst these 
 insolent men are mean and dishonest and immoral ? My 
 heart,” he adds, “ used to leap with indignation at this 
 sight and with longing to put down, humiliate, and crush 
 their insolence.” And, in after-life he did crush it with a 
 vengeance. Louis was at this time ignorant of religion, 
 and, as he grew up, ranged himself among the Socialists 
 and infidels. In 1838, however, whilst visiting Lome, the 
 light of truth shone upon him, and he was led to the bosom 
 of the Catholic Church. Thenceforward, he waged an 
 unceasing war against the infidelity and Socialism and 
 Liberalism of his native land with a vigour and brilliancy 
 without a parallel in the annals of journalism. Monta- 
 lambert and his school would fight the adversaries of truth 
 only with gilt rapier, or crusader’s lance; but LouisVeuillot 
 would wield the battle axe with giant force, and fell his 
 opponent with the first weapon at hand, whatever it might 
 be. To him and the gallant host of whom he was the leader, 
 in defence of the Catholic truth, may be applied the words : 
 
 u Forth from its scabbard never hand 
 Waved sword from stain as free ; 
 
 Nor purer soul led a braver band, 
 
 Nor braver toiled for a brighter land, 
 
 Nor brighter land had a cause more grand, 
 
 Nor cause a chief like thee. 5 ’ 
 
 The secret of his success lay in this, that he never parleyed 
 with error, and never compromised the principles of truth. 
 He never bowed to injustice, never flattered the passions of 
 the great, never flinched before tyranny ; and so far as 
 within him lay, never failed to tear the mask from hypocrisy. 
 With all this in private life, lie was affectionate and affable 
 and genial, and he was untiring in works of piety and 
 charity. The “ Imitation of Christ” was his favourite 
 book, and to it he refers in the opening verse of the sweet 
 little poem which he composed : 
 
 “ Let my pen be at my side, 
 
 At my feet this book be hid ; 
 
 And the Crucifix, my pride, 
 
 On my heart ; then close the lid.” 
 
18 
 
 The astronomer, Copernicus, who has given his name to 
 the scientific solar system, now accepted by the learned 
 world, was the son of a Polish baker. He had a natural 
 bent towards mathematics, and he cultivated this study 
 with passion through all its branches. That he might 
 improve his knowledge of astronomy he proceeded to Borne 
 and taught mathematics there for sevefal years. In 
 recognition of his singular merit he was promoted to a 
 rich benefice in Germany, the revenue of which supplied 
 him with abundant means for his life-long astronomical 
 researches. His working day he divided into three parts — 
 one devoted to the duties of his benefice, another to giving 
 medical advice gratuitously to the poor, and the third to 
 study. His great work, De revolutionibus orbum , which 
 has immortalized his name, was published in 1543, in his 
 70th year. It was only a few hours before his death that 
 the first complete copy of this work w 7 as presented to 
 him. 
 
 The career of Herschel, one of the most famous astro- 
 nomers of the present century, was still more remarkable. 
 He was a native of Saxony, and associating himself with a 
 strolling German band went about from town to town in 
 England to earn his bread. Being enrolled in the band 
 of the Durham militia, whilst the regiment was stationed 
 at Doncaster, he got access to some scientific works which 
 he perused with avidity. He was subsequently organist in 
 Bath, and applied himself during his leisure hours to the 
 construction of telescopes. Step by step he perfected 
 himself in the study of astronomy. After long and painful 
 labour he completed a five-foot reflector by which he was 
 able to observe the ring and satellites of Saturn. Not 
 satisfied with this triumph he proceeded to make other 
 instruments in succession, of seven, ten, and even twenty 
 feet. As an instance of his untiring perseverance, we are 
 told that when constructing the seven-foot reflector, he 
 made no fewer than 200 specula before he could give to his 
 work that perfection which he sought. Whilst gauging 
 the heavens with his telescopes he patiently earned his 
 
19 
 
 bread by performing on the violin and other instruments 
 at the public concerts. So eager was he in his astronomical 
 studies that he would steal away from the concert-room 
 during an interval of the performance, give a little turn at 
 his telescope and then contentedly return to his place in 
 the band. At length he discovered a new planet to which 
 he gave the name of Georgium Sidus, and was at once 
 lifted up from obscurity to fame. He was appointed astro- 
 nomer "Royal with a salary of £400 a year ; other honours 
 followed in quick succession, but in prosperity as in adver- 
 sity he was indefatigable in his labours, till his death in 
 1822, at the age of 84 years. 
 
 Cuvier was a native of Wurtemburg. When a boy he 
 was attracted to the study of natural history by the sight 
 of a volume of Buffon which accidently fell in his way. 
 He read with delight the u System of Nature” of Linnseus, 
 which he got as a prize at school. Owing to the straitened 
 circumstances of his parents he, in his 18th year, took the 
 situation of tutor in a family residing on the coast near 
 Fecamp, in Normandy. Here he was brought face to face 
 w r ith the wonders of the sea. Strolling along the shore 
 one day he observed a stranded cuttle-fish. This he brought 
 home and carefully dissected, and thus began the study 
 of the mollusks, which he pursued for several years, 
 till it w r on for him an eminent place in the scientific 
 world. He never relaxed his industry, and though a 
 foreigner by birth he attained the honourable post of 
 Chancellor of the University of Paris, and became a Peer 
 of France. 
 
 No less remarkable in the pursuits of science was 
 Faraday, whom Chambers justly styles “ one of the most 
 distinguished chemists and natural philosophers of the 
 present century.” He was particularly successful in his 
 researches regarding electricity and magnetism, and 
 opened the way to those practical wonderful discoveries 
 which have marked the progress of science in our own days. 
 And yet he w T as the son of a journeyman blacksmith, who 
 lived in rooms over a coach-house near Manchester-square 
 
20 
 
 in London. His education was limited to the rudiments 
 of reading, writing, and arithmetic, at an ordinary poor- 
 school. At the age of thirteen he was employed as an 
 errand boy by a fourth-rate London bookseller. In after 
 life he used to display a special kindness for the newspaper 
 boys, and he would say: “ I once carried newspapers 
 myself.” In 1805, being fourteen years of age, he served 
 as an apprentice to the book-binding trade, and here it 
 would seem that there could be no escape from the poet’s 
 words being verified in his career : 
 
 “ Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 
 And waste its sweetness on ihe desert air.” 
 
 But the youthful Faraday utilized his time, and when he 
 had done the work allotted him, applied himself to derive 
 information from the books which were passing through 
 his hands. Works treating of chemistry and electricity 
 were his delight. Whenever he could, he attended the 
 evening lectures given by Mr. Tatum on natural philosophy, 
 the fee of one shilling for entrance being paid by his 
 brother who was a blacksmith. From the knowledge 
 which he thus acquired he was enabled on the termination 
 of his apprenticeship to secure the post of assistant in the 
 chemical laboratory of the Royal Institution with a salary 
 of twenty-five shillings a week, and with two rooms at the 
 top of the house. Here, humble as his employment was, 
 he was in constant intercourse with Sir Humphrey Davy, 
 the greatest chemist of the day, and, to use his own 
 words, his daily manual work was “ an inexhaustible mine 
 of knowledge and improvement.” Step by step by his 
 industry and untiring spirit of observation he advanced in 
 the paths of science till we find him Lecturer at the Royal 
 Academy of Woolwich, the correspondent of Humboldt 
 and Arago, honoured by the universities and scientific 
 academies, and with a house in Hampton Court allotted 
 him by the Queen, receiving a pension from the State in 
 recognition of his public services. With all that he was 
 most disinterested and ever ready to give a helping hand 
 
21 
 
 to those who were in need. The words which he made 
 use of in one of his early lectures mark out his own 
 course through life : “ It is not he who has soared 
 above his fellow-creatures in power, it is not he who 
 can command most readily the pampering couch or the 
 costly luxury ; hut it is he who has done most good to 
 his fellows, he who has directed them in the weak 
 moment, aided them in the moment of necessity, and 
 enlightened them in their ignorance, that leads the ranks 
 of mankind.” 
 
 Here, I may remark that efforts have been made at 
 times in England to stir up prejudice against the study of 
 natural philosophy, on the plea that it leads to the ship- 
 wreck of Divine Faith. But, I may assure you, my young 
 friends, that such a statement is a mere fallacy, and 
 proceeds solely from the ignorance or the sophistry of 
 weak and half-instructed minds. True science cannot 
 lead away from God, for all truth must be at one. Divine 
 Bevelation has come to us from God, and it is the same 
 Creator who has spread out the hook of nature before us, 
 to be studied by the rational soul. Like the clouds that 
 obscure the sun, a little learning and imperfect science 
 may for a time hide divine knowledge from us ; but mature 
 study and perfect science will be sure to lead back to God. 
 To the irreligious soul already defiant of the Creator’s 
 wisdom, science may he a peril : but to the child of 
 Faith, the study of nature and the pursuits of science 
 serve only to reveal more and more the wondrous perfec- 
 tions of God, and full of gratitude and joy, he will repeat : 
 
 u Teach me so Thy works to read, 
 
 That my Faith, new strength accruing, 
 
 May, from world to world, proceed 
 Wisdom’s faithful search pursuing. 
 
 Through the creatures Thou hast made 
 Show the brightness of Thy glory ; 
 
 Be eternal truth displayed 
 > In their substance transitory, 
 
 Till green earth, and ocean hoary, 
 
 Massy rock, and tender blade, 
 
 Tell the same unending story ; 
 
 We are truth in form arrayed.” 
 
22 
 
 But whilst we range from country to country in search 
 of examples to illustrate our subject, shall we cull no 
 flowers from our native land? It would he passing strange 
 indeed if none such were to be found among our people, so 
 richly endowed with talents and so devoted to the paths of 
 industry. But here the difficulty arises, not so much from 
 the want of brilliant examples as from their variety and 
 multitude, for it is no easy task to know which to select 
 from the many that present themselves. I shall take only 
 three or four, and the instances which I shall choose will 
 have this advantage at least that they are already familiar 
 to you all. 
 
 Eugene O’Curry was one of those earnest men who in 
 our own time have spent their lives in laying deep and 
 broad the foundations on which the solid structure of 
 genuine history of Ireland may one day he raised. He 
 was the son of Owen Mor O’Curry, a struggling farmer of 
 vCarrigaholt, in the south-west of the County Clare. Owen 
 Mor had a thorough knowledge of the traditions of the 
 country, and possessed several Irish MSS. which as 
 precious heirlooms were handed down for generations in 
 the family, and he dearly loved his native tongue. He 
 w T as much respected by all his neighbours, nor was it 
 forgotten that his father during the terrible famine of 
 1742, proved himself a devoted friend to the sufferers, 
 feeding the starving poor, visiting the fever-stricken 
 families, and when the churchyards could not contain the 
 dead, giving up a part of his own farm that it might be 
 consecrated as a cemetery. In better times it was his 
 delight to gather his neighbours around the fireside on 
 winter nights and there entertain them by readings in 
 Irish, and by songs, and before the party broke up he 
 always made sure to sing for them a venerable old Irish 
 hymn to the Blessed Virgin. There was but little of the 
 schoolmaster at Carrigaholt in the early days of our 
 Eugene, and he appears to have learned little more than 
 to read and to write the Irish well. The farmers’ sons of 
 the district, however, in the winter’s nights, formed 
 
23 
 
 among themselves a class of mutual improvement, teaching 
 one another arithmetic, geography, and other branches 
 useful for them. The country abounded in holy ruins, and 
 many was the excursion which in the summer evenings 
 young O’Curry made to Iniscattery or Holy Island, lying 
 out in the Shannon a few miles from his native place. 
 Our own St. Kieran had sanctified that spot, and St. 
 Senanus had made it his hallowed home. Its chapels and 
 its sanctuaries were endeared to the faithful people of 
 Carrigaholt, and Eugene endeavoured as best he could to 
 collect from the neighbours every tradition connected 
 with its ruins. But, as he himself declared in after times, 
 “ it was not till after my father’s death that I fully awoke 
 to the passion for gathering together the old fragments of 
 our history. I knew he was a link between our day and a 
 time when all was broken, scattered, hidden. When I 
 called to mind the knowledge he possessed of every old 
 ruin, manuscript, legend, and tradition in Thomond, I was 
 filled with consternation to think that all was for ever gone 
 and no record left.” Thenceforth every moment he could 
 spare from his daily toil was given up to the study of the 
 antiquities and traditions of his country. The small farm 
 not sufficing to support the family, Eugene obtained an 
 appointment as warder in the Limerick asylum. The 
 resident physician there became acquainted with his 
 passion for study, and his wonderful knowledge of the 
 Irish language, and thus when the Ordnance Survey of 
 Ireland was set on foot, and practical Irish scholars were 
 sought out to translate the ancient documents and to 
 record the traditions of the various localities, O’Curry was 
 at once employed on this field of congenial labour. He 
 found here full scope for his special talents, and he threw 
 himself with all his giant energy into his task, which was 
 indeed a labour of love for him. His merit was soon uni- 
 versally recognised, and from the year 1831, when he was 
 associated to the Ordnance Survey, till his death in July, 
 1862, he may be said to have taken a leading part in every 
 national movement having for its object to illustrate the 
 
24 
 
 history of our country. His whole time was spent in 
 examining the various and scattered collections of Irish 
 MSS., translating the oldest texts, and recording the fast- 
 fading traditions of our people. In 1853 he was employed 
 under the Brehon Law Commission to transcribe and 
 translate those ancient Laws. It was towards the close of 
 that year that I was introduced to him in the little room 
 at Trinity College, where he and O’Donovan w 7 ere busily 
 engaged making transcripts of the oldest texts of the 
 Brehon Laws. I was a very young priest and, unfortunately 
 quite a stranger to Irish history, whilst he was the very 
 foremost of living Celtic scholars and palaeographers. 
 Nevertheless, he was unassuming as a child, and most 
 kind and considerate in answering the questions which 
 my curiosity and inexperience proposed to him. He was 
 full of enthusiasm whilst explaining the relative value of 
 the ancient MSS. piled up before him, but his voice 
 became slow and mournful when he spoke of the prevalent 
 neglect of Celtic studies and the sad indifference of so 
 many to the genuine history of Ireland. When the 
 Catholic University was established the chair of Irish 
 History and Archaeology was assigned to O’ Curry. This 
 gave him the prominence which was his due, and the 
 lectures which he delivered are the most important con- 
 tribution of this studious age to our early history. Partly 
 for this reason and partly for the sterling love of religion 
 and country, of which at all times he gave abundant proof, 
 the name of Eugene O’Curry is perhaps the one among the 
 modern writers on Irish History the most universally 
 revered at home and abroad wherever the sons of Saint 
 Patrick are to be found. The illustrious D’Arcy M'Geein 
 a soul- stirring poem, written far away on the American 
 continent, thus proclaims the universal regret at his being 
 too soon taken away from us : — 
 
 “ Who are his mourners ? By the hearth 
 His presence kindled, sad they sit — 
 
 They dwell throughout the living earth 
 In homes his presence never lit ; 
 
25 
 
 Where’er a Gaelic brother dwells, 
 
 There heaven has heard for him a pray’r ; 
 
 Where’er an Irish maiden tells 
 
 Her votive beads, his soul has share, 
 
 Where far or near, be it west or east, 
 
 Glistens the Soggarth’ s sacred stole, 
 
 There from the true, unprompted priest 
 Shall rise a requiem for his soul. 
 
 Such orisons like clouds shall rise 
 From every realm beneath the sun, 
 
 For where are now the shore's or skies 
 The Irish Soggarth has not won ?” 
 
 The same eloquent writer thus sketches the merits of 
 O’Curry. “ Ideas of greatness may and do differ. But if 
 the highest moral purposes, sustained by the highest 
 moral courage, constitute grounds and a standard ; if the 
 rarest union of patient labour and sleepless enthusiasm 
 have any claim to be so considered ; if a continuous 
 career of recovery and discovery, in a long abandoned 
 domain of learned inquiry, may be called proofs of 
 greatness : then, assuredly, when Ireland counts her 
 famous sons of this age, that indomitable academician’s 
 name will be pronounced among the very first of her 
 magnates.” 
 
 Sir John O’Shannassy, who attained the highest posts 
 of honour in the colony of Victoria, was born in the town 
 of Tipperary, in the year 1818. His father kept a public- 
 house, but sent his son, who showed signs of talent and 
 proficiency, regularly to school. Owing to the death of 
 his father the young lad was, at an early age, thrown on 
 his own resources, and opened a stationer’s shop at 
 Thurles. He soon, however, emigrated to Australia, and 
 settling at Port Philip, by his industry, ability, and 
 energy, became in afewyears the foremost maninthecolony. 
 Melbourne was but a hamlet when he landed there. He 
 lived to see it become, and in no small part through his 
 own exertions, one of the greatest and most flourishing 
 cities of the empire. The colony was at first but a 
 dependency of New South Wales : he was among the most 
 
26 
 
 prominent agitators for its independence. Their efforts 
 were crownedwithsuccessin 1851, and thenceforward he was 
 to be found in the front rank of all the changes of govern- 
 ment that ensued. The men who fought the anti- 
 transportation battle in Victoria, and who framed the 
 constitution of the colony, did their task faithfully and 
 well. They were brave and they were intelligent. They 
 kept the colony a home for free men, and they secured 
 for it free institutions. They could say : — 
 
 “With aching hands and toiling feet 
 We dig and heap, lay stone on stone ; 
 
 W e bear the burden and the heat 
 Of the long day, and wish ’twere done : 
 
 Not till the hours of night return 
 All we have built can man discern.” 
 
 Not even his political opponents will deny to Sir John 
 O’Sliannassy a foremost place in that memorable band. 
 When the gold rush took place and oppressive regulations 
 were made by the government he became the advocate of 
 the rights of the miners and secured their recognition. 
 The land had to be unlocked, and he worked untiringly to 
 give the people due facilities for obtaining homesteads. If 
 railways were developed and a Local Government Act 
 secured, it was mainly through the exertions of 
 O’Shannassy. Three times he was prime minister, and if 
 in his latter years this post of honour was denied him, this 
 was due to his loyalty to the dictates of conscience, for he 
 refused to lend the countenance of his name to any scheme, 
 no matter how plausible, of infidel education. I had the 
 pleasure of meeting him when he visited Ireland towards 
 the close of 1866. He was a man of colossal strength and 
 colossal mind. In conversation he repeatedly expressed 
 his gratification at the progress which this country had 
 made, whilst he was carving out his fortune in a more 
 favoured land, and he was full of wonder and admiration 
 at the institutions which he saw springing up on every 
 side. In one of the Convent National Schools which he 
 
27 
 
 visited lie asked a little girl, very poor but very bright and 
 intelligent, to read her lesson and she read it admirably 
 for him. He then asked her what was her name ; she 
 replied, Mary O’Shannassy. He did not attempt to hide 
 his emotion, and he afterwards remarked that he himself 
 was at one time very nearly as poor as that little child. 
 Addressing you, my young friends, I must not omit that 
 he took a prominent part in organizing the Victorian 
 Catholic Young Men’s Society, and was a constant patron 
 of its lectures and re-unions. He was honoured with 
 a special mark of favour by the Sovereign Pontiff a little 
 before his death, in the month of May of the present year. 
 In addition to his many other merits he was disinterested. 
 He was entitled to a pension of s£25,000 from the colonial 
 government, but never touched a penny of it. A few days 
 after the demise of this illustrious Irishman, a political 
 opponent sketching his long and arduous services, declared 
 that death had removed “ the striking figure of one of the 
 strongest of the men who built up Victoria.” 
 
 Charles Bianconi, though born in Italy, deserves to be 
 mentioned, for it may be said that he spent his whole life 
 amongst us. He was quite a young boy when he was 
 brought to Ireland by a certain Faroni and employed 
 hawking cheap pictures about the country. In a short 
 notice of his early career, sketched by himself in after 
 times, he writes: “I shall never forget the ludicrous 
 figure I cut in going into the street with these things in 
 my hands, saying buy ! buy ! to every person I met, and, 
 when questioned as to the price, I w 7 as unable to reply 
 except by counting on my fingers the number of pence I 
 wanted.” When his master quitted Ireland after a year 
 and a-half’s stay, young Bianconi continued his work on 
 his own account : “ I at once got a box (he says) made to 
 contain large-framed prints. It was two feet long by one 
 foot wide, and eighteen inches deep. This I filled with an 
 assortment of prints from the largest to the smallest size. 
 With this pack on my back, which weighed over one 
 hundred pounds I have frequently walked twenty or thirty 
 
28 
 
 miles in the day. I was then seventeen years old, and, I 
 knew neither discouragement nor fatigue, for I felt that I 
 had set to work to become somebody.” The great work 
 carried out in after-life by this energetic man was the 
 establishment of public conveyances between the towns 
 chiefly in the south and west of Ireland. We may form 
 an idea of the vast extent of this enterprise and the em- 
 ployment given, when we remember that in the year 1864, 
 when he gave up the work to younger hands, it realized an 
 annual income of £40,000. He was at all times kind and con- 
 siderate and charitable, and wasconstantly doing good, such 
 as paying for the education of orphan girls, or providing 
 for the helpless relatives of those who died or were disabled 
 in his service. But to the day of his death he was sharp 
 in his accounts. Arriving at a London railway station, he 
 secured the only cab to be found there. He gave a seat in 
 it to the millionaire Rothschild, but on landing him at his 
 house made him pay the fare. Before the British 
 Association in 1857, he made the important statement 
 which reflects such credit on our people : “ My conveyances, 
 many of them carrying very important mails, have been 
 travelling during all hours of the day and night, often in 
 lonely and unfrequented places : and during the long 
 period of forty-two years that my establishment is now in 
 existence, the slightest injury has never been done by the 
 people to my property or that entrusted to my care.” 
 
 I have already, I fear, detained you too long, and yet I 
 cannot bring this lecture to a close without recording the 
 name of Father Thomas Burke, of the Order of St. 
 Dominick. I need not refer to the details of his life, for 
 they are familiar as household words to every Irishman. 
 Eloquence was in a measure natural to him, but, neverthe- 
 less, he studied and laboured as few others could study or 
 labour to perfect himself more and more, and make his 
 eloquence worthy of the noble themes of charity and 
 religion, the interests of which he was, more than any 
 man of the day, called upon to plead. Few lives can show 
 a more fruitful record, or were more unselfishly devoted to 
 
29 
 
 tlie highest and noblest of causes, the building up of 
 religion, and the succour of the widow, the orphan, and 
 the indigent. At home and abroad he shall long be 
 remembered as an ornament of his country, and his name 
 shall be cherished by a grateful race. There is one thing 
 which you, my young friends, may learn from the example 
 of Father Burke. It is, no matter what laurels you may 
 win, or what high post of honour you may attain, ever 
 to love old Ireland, and to cherish fresh and unfading 
 a true filial devotion for your native land. Hear how, on 
 the eve 'of St. Patrick’s Festival, far away beyond the 
 Atlantic, after rebutting the false charges that had been 
 made against Ireland, he apostrophizes his mother-land : 
 “ 0 glory of earth and heaven ! to-day thy great Apostle 
 looks down upon thee from his high seat of bliss, and liis 
 heart rejoices. To-day the angels of God rejoice over 
 thee, for the light of sanctity which still beams upon thee. 
 To-day thy troops of virgin martyr saints speak thy praises 
 in the high courts of heaven. And I, 0 Mother, far 
 away from thy green bosom, hail thee from afar — as the 
 prophet of old beholding the fair plains of the Promised 
 Land — and proclaim this day that there is no land so 
 fair, no spot of earth to be compared to thee, no island 
 rising out of the wave so beautiful : that neither the sun, 
 nor the moon, nor the stars of heaven shine down upon 
 anything so lovely as thou art, O Erin!” And again, 
 looking forward to the future of the Irish race on the 
 American continent, he cries out : “ Oh ! how grand it is, 
 as I see it to-day, this future of my race !• Eight millions 
 of people ill America of Irish birth and eighteen of Irish 
 blood ! In thirty years there must be fifty millions, 
 born in this great country, spreading itself out in all things, 
 rich beyond all other nations in minerals, rivers, harbours. 
 Think of the magnificent element of fifty millions of 
 Irishmen filling the public offices and guiding the destinies 
 of this country, and all bearing the distinctive marks of 
 Irish character, an ornament and a pride to the land that 
 adopted them by their Catholic temperance and purity. 
 
30 
 
 A power in this land will they be assuredly to guide and 
 influence her actions, to draw the sword in the moment of 
 danger, and to strike such blows in the cause of God and 
 truth as have never yet rung on the shield of injustice ; a 
 power in Ireland, before which the generous heart of 
 America will be sure to bow in homage ; a power that will 
 not prevent you from being the best American citizens, 
 while you will not lose the vision of Ireland and of the 
 debt you owe her. Then, and not till then, every enemy 
 of Ireland will stand paralysed to injure her, because the 
 great phantom of Ireland in America will cause them to 
 recoil, and force them to respect the dear, old, venerated 
 and beloved island.’’ 
 
 These examples will suffice, I trust, to show how glorious 
 are the triumphs, how fruitful the results achieved in every 
 country and in every walk of life by persevering industry 
 and self culture. The young men of your Society availing 
 themselves of the opportunities within their reach may 
 reap the same fruits. But even should their energy and 
 toil not lead to the same material success, they shall at 
 least have this thought to console them, that they have 
 made the proper use of the noblest faculties with which 
 the Creator has endowed them. Too often the talents 
 received from nature are allowed to perish “like seeds 
 upon the desert sand.” And yet they are a sacred trust, 
 a precious treasure placed in our hands that w^e may 
 cultivate and perfect and adorn them, and we should ever 
 bear in mind that 
 
 “ as the form and pressure may be given 
 They wither upon earth, or ripen there for heaven.”