In Memoriam

Irish Jesuit Province

In MemoriamAuthor(s): George O'NeillSource: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 40, No. 472 (Oct., 1912), pp. 540-550Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20503283 .

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540 THE IRISH MVONTHLY

IN MEMORIAM Father Matthew Russell\was born in I834, the younger son of

Arthur Russell, of Newry and Seafield House, Killowen, by Margaret, daughter of Matthew Mullan, of Belfast, and widow of Arthur Hamill, of Belfast. He was educated at Castleknock College, Violet Hill, and Maynooth, where his uncle, Dr. Charles Russell, was then professor. Father Russell's eldler brother, Charles, taking the law as his career, rose to be Lord Chief Justice of England his three sisters became Sisters of Mercy. He joined the Society of Jesus in 1857, and in i864 was ordained priest, the event having been hastened on because of his mother's rapidly failing health. Till 1873 he was occupied at school and church work at the Crescent,

Limerick. In that year he founded the IRISH MONTHLY, at first called Catholic Ireland, and was its editor till his death in 19I2. Its rOle in fostering Irish talent has been widely acknowledged.

His own pen w-as never idle. In 1874 he became the associate of one or two Jesuit Fathers who lent some help to the working of the Catholic University in St. Stephen's Green. From 1877 tO i886, and again from 1903 till within a few weeks of his death,

be was engaged in priestly duties at St. Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street, Dublin, in addition to his literary activities. Ho frequently appeared as a lecturer on platforms and was a warm supporter of the temperance cause. From i886 to 1903 his work centred at University College, St. Stephen's Green. His happy death took place on September I2, 1912

His published works include the following :-Among the Blessed: Loving Thoughts about Favourite Saints. At Homze with God. Behold your Mothey ! Lije of Blessed John Eudes. St. Joseph of

Jesus and Mary. St. Jose ph's Anthology. Sonnets on the Sonnet. Reasons for Holding the Catholic Faith. Rose Kavanagit and her V7erses. Little Angels: a Book of Comfort for Mourning Mothers. Jesuts is IVaiting. Communion Day. Moments before the Tabernacle.

At Home near the Altar. Close to the Altar Rails. Idyls of Killowen A Soggarth's Secular Verses. Vespeys and Compline: A Soggarth's Sacred Verses. A Soggarth's Last Verses. Altar Flowers. All Day Long. Lyria Cordis (hymns with music), and his last volume, The Three Sisters of Lord Russell of Killowen.

N OT many men, perhaps, have made and kept more friends than did Father Mlatt Russell during his long life, and many of them have begun and others

will continue to say something to the world of what that friendship meant for them. Thete are in the crowd many

whose words will be more eloquent and more authoritative than mine: and I trust that the magazine round which centred the largest part of his thoughts and labours during forty years of his life will enshrine many a memorial page rich with intimate knowledge and cordial feeling. For

myself, to be asked to contribute to its In Mfemoriam



IN MEMORIRM 541

number something concerning its much-regretted creator and editor is an honour and a pleasure-one too great to be foregone, even were it to make room for some more qualified pen. My remarks, hastily penned, must neces sarily be very imperfect, and will chiefly be concerned

with personal recollections. My acquaintance with Father Russell began when one

day-a very young Jesuit-I stopped, in Gardiner's Place, Father Matt in order to ask his opinion on some literary question. I began with the remark that he did not know

me, but that I "o f course " knew him. "Yes," was his quick rejoinder,

"The moon looks on many brooks, The brook can see no moon but this."

As a matter of fact, his extreme shortness of sight made his recognition of acquaintances a difficulty, and thus interfered somewhat with his continued interest in the

movement of life and personality round about him. He did not profess to deplore greatly this fact, having no love for casual and aimless talk, and much appreciating liberty to pursue his own thoughts in peace. Yet he was amiably

willing to be reminded of the existence of the humblest or least interesting acquaintance. There was in him little of the hermit and nothing at all of the misanthrope.

His connexion with University College, where I chiefly knew him, has been alluded to in many obituary notices; but it has hardly been set in a quite clear light. In the latter years of Cardinal Cullen and Dr. Woodlock's efforts to carry on the functions of the Catholic University, Father

Russell, in company with Father Edmund O'Reilly, occu pied rooms in the old house in St. Stephen's Green, where Father O'Reilly held the post of lecturer on Religion. But there was nothing academic for Father Russell to do, and he probably enjoyed during those three years some of the quietest days of his life. Some ten years later,-when

University College, " under entirely new management," knew livelier times, the idea was mooted and entertained of yoking in Father Russell's mild literary Pegasus to the

University plough. It was thought that the atmosphere



542 THE IRISH MIONTHLY

of University College might foster the production of IRISH MONTHLYS while its Editor might become a successful lecturer to the graduates and undergraduates of the new regime. I doubt whether much was ever really hoped from the scheme. At all events, as regards its main part, it came to nothing: nor was this failure, -to Father, Russell personally, the slightest disappointment. He had some excellent qualities as a lecturer, but they were dependent on his being left free not only as to subject but also as to all manner of casual inspirations and digressions. He could have given valuable guidance in modern English literature; but the minutiae of English philological scholar ship were-naturally-to him a sealed book, and one he had not the smallest inclination to open. Besides, he was far on in the fifties of his life. So Father Matt neither wished nor was compelled to become a professor, and it remained true of his whole career that he knew much less of the teacher's troubles or joys than a Jesuit usually has to face.

His editorial work, however, went on briskly at the Green; and in addition to his usual miscellaneous occupa

tions he became the official " soul's friend " of the com munity resident at the College. A chief function of his spiritual directorship was to give us from time to time short exhortations; and his characteristic turn of mind and temperament made these addresses-apt, usually, to be dull-unfailingly interesting. "Nothing too much" was a motto admirably illustrated in these discourses: indeed their rapid turns of thought and variety of allusion

might themselves have sometimes been looked upon as a " too much." But piety, kindly feeling and a certain

mild good sense were never missing from the kaleidoscopic patterns he wove before our eyes.

A model of quiet, steady industry, Father Russell worked on, with but the shortest intervals of rest and scarcely any interruptions from ill-health, from his child hood's days till he reached the age of seventy-eight. Such a record has always, I think, its interest; one likes to know how such a success as a working man has been achieved. Among the causes in Father Matt's case must be reckoned the tranquillity afforded by his religious life,



IN MTEMORIA11M 543

freeing him from temzporal cares whliclh he was not very well fitted to deal with, and securing for him the care of superiors, one of wlhom (as I rem-iember) used not only see to it that the poet's hair did not grow too long, but even cropped it occasionally with his own hands! Another cause was the splendidly solid constitution given him by nature. His congeniital vigour enabled himr- to dispense himself from all anxiety as to the hyg,ienic miethods, medical or athletic, which are often puit fourward as necessary for the welfare of all flesh. To questions of food and drink he never gave a thought-other than to accept witlh almost indiscriminate thankfulness wthatever ilmight be )rovided for him. Exercise he despised to a startling extent. From his boyhood he had not joined in games of any sort. Such a reiaime is assuredly suited to very few ; how well, however, it was suited to Father Russell miiay be gathered from a remark I once heard himl- make wvhen discourse happened to fall on ailments of the heart: 'I ha-e never been aware of possessing such an organ!'"

Of hiis activities fromii i877 to i886, and frm1 I903 to

i9i2, as a priest at St. Francis Xavier's, it is n-ot for mue to speak wvith the fulliness wvhich thle subject wvotuld deserve. W17ith uniform-i cheerfulness and as a matter of course he placed his time and Ilis energies at the disposal of his superiors and tlhe call of charity. And, for suich a miian as he, hiow mv-iany strange tlhings, as xvell as dull, tiresome things, that word " charity " hides rather than reveals ! Those

who looked around a little at his thronged funeral ob sequies might gather some idea of the field over wvhich hiis goodness, zeal, an-d patience had ranged: still more ml-ight one learn from a talk lhere and there with some of the representatives of very poor, very wretched and helpless huml-anity who came to swell that mourning crowd.

In 1909, for the first time, his health seriously broke down. A disease of a dangerous chamacter was diagnosed, which his advaniced age rendered it impossible to treat drastically. It was not concealed from him that he was now wi'thin near sight of death, and, as was expected, the news caused no perturbation. The attack passed away for the moment, and presently he was found back at hiis




old activities. A strict ret,rime became necessary and strength gradually ebbed away; yet niot until January, I9I2, did hefeel that the time had at last come for resign ing the IRISHI MONTHLY into younger hands. Nor was it, even then, his purpose that he might " unburdened crawl towards death "; he simply wanted to concentrate his ebbing energies on other literary jobs which could not be deputed. So, having duly discussed the matter with higher powers, he sallied forth to call on the successor whom he had named inz Petto, and announce to him the great news. After forty years ! The old man's heart doubtless was very full as he went on his errand: what were his thoughts when the offer he brought was unequivocally declined ? He was met by reasons many and cogent, but doubtless there was somle little sense of pained suspicion (quite groundless in fact) that the reversion of his life work was insufficiently valued. However that may be, the resigna tion did not come off. No one else being ready at the

moment to take the burden off his failing shoulders, he simply went on as before, and edited and wrote up to the very number of the month in which he died-September, 19I2. And it was all done quite simlply and cheerfully,

without complaint or self-pity. He used to recall with amusement that the day of his attempted withdrawal f rom editorslhip coincided exactly as to date with a no less noteworthy but more successful resignation-that of Mr. A. J. Balfour.

During the last days, when he lay at Miss Quinn's Nursing Home, gradually withdrawing fr-om all intercourse with the world, but endearing himself in quite an un commiion degree to all who came in contact with him, I

had, as an old friend, the privilege of an interview with him. One thing whlich lie said on that occasion made a special impression on me. As he looked back upon the disposal of his life there was one thing (he said) which caused him remoorse. Anm I too indiscreet in revealing this burden of his conscience ? It was that he had not taken sufficient pains to make himl-self efficient in the work of preaching. There had been some physical impediment which a more tlhoroughgoing recourse to the resources of



IN MEMORIAM 545

dental and other specialists might have got rid of. Happy, surely, the soul which after a long and busy life has no

worse ground for remorse than this ! As a boy at Castle knock, it appears, he had given great promise as a de claimer, and as a scholastic at Limerick great promise as a preacher, but the hopes thus excited were not destined to be, in any mnarked degree, fulfilled. He was probably not as wvell suited for the pulpit as for the humbler altitude of the editorial chair: he had not the temperament of a

Burke nor the mind of a Bourdaloue; yet he might, under different circumstances, have risen to some modest original excellence of his own.

He would have certainly been, as he always was, under all changes, thoroughly himself. No one could be less a being of separate compartments. We find, no doubt, his verses divided up into " sacred" and " secular." But the dividing line is hard to find: the " sacred " ones are never those of a recluse or an oracle, the " secular " ones never stray far from holy ground. It was much the same with his life. He always remembered God, and he always remembered man. Whether he preached or poetized or criticized, he put into the work-not a set of prescinded ideas, but his whole self, without insincerity or affectation.

This, of course, laid him open to a certain amount of fault finding-to complaints that there was too much literature in his piety, and too much piety in his literature. But he had his rewards. It was good policy, for example, though never dreamt of as a policy. Personality is the thing that tells: let beginners note it well! It was very largely because Father Russell was always and everywhere himself that he achieved the large measure of success and popularity that certainly fell to his share.

In his character, though there was indeed no mystery, there were touches of piquant contrast. Beneath a sin gularly equable pleasantness and even gaiety on the surface there were greater depths of feeling and resolve than even constant intercourse easily revealed. The con noisseur in literary ana and light versification was at the same time a true brother of the resolute Lord Chief Justice and a true son of the " black North." Of the sanctuary of



546 THE IRISH 1MO1NTHLY

his inner devotional life the fullest view he lhas given is to be fdund in the longish poem " Love and Thanksgiving," wherein are many biographical touches and many beau tiful stanzas, such as the last:

Yes, yes! until Death's icy hand has grasped me, I'll love Thee, Lord, all else, all else above;

Anid when Thy love hath to TIhy bosom clasped me, I'll love Thee, Lord ! Ah, thent at least I'll love.

His home affections and attachments to a circle of old friends were fast-rooted and enduring. They were indeed

apt to lead him into biography, reminiscence and allusion

with a facility whiclh lzabite's of the IRISH MONTHLY occasionally thought excessive. But it was the most

amiable of weaknesses. He required, too, it must be said, a very high all-rouLnd standard of excellence, literary,

moral and other, in anyone who was to be the subject of

his panegyrics. In at least one of his poems he has given admirable expression to the strong family affections which he had carried away with him from the old homes of his

childhood at Newry, Killowen and Red Bay. " The Old Spot " seems to me beautiful in its restrained feeling, simplicity of expression, miiingling of the lheartfelt and the supernatural. Many will perhaps thank me for giving it

lhere in full.

THE OLD SPOT.

The robins sing, the river flows, The leaves are just as green;

But, ah! but, ah! my heart, God knows, Is not as it has been.

Kind faces smile through cheerful tears, Kind voices m-iurmur round,

And hands, far sundered all these years, The warm old clasp have foundl.

Again my yearning steps have strayed I3ack to the dear old spot;

But where the mates that with me played ? I seek, and find thenm not.

The boy, so thoughtless, free, and bold, Plays in the world his part;

The childish heart I knew of old Is now a woman's heart.



IN MIVEMORI 4 547

The breeze blows keen, the sun shines on, The waves rush up the shore;

But, ah ! but, ahl ! old times are gone, And home is home no more.

It matters not. We are too fain To nestle here below,

Until the harsh winds and the rain. Arouse us. Better so !

Dear pious hearts, mzav my place be Near yours in that dark dell

Wh-iere on the Judge's lips w-e'll see W\Telcoue!

But now-farewell

Of the "artistic temperament "-which some one has described as consisting of a great deal of temiperament and very little art-Father Russell did not, I think, possess a great deal. The charm which renders his verse and prose popular was not distilled from exquisite &sthetic sensibilities. It sprang froom other and monre internal founts. \Ve hiave heard how " Speranza " said: "There is heart behind the IRISH AMON.THLY." There was much else, as we have seen, both natural and supernatural combining to mak-e up a personality nowise great, indeed, but quite distinct and very amiable. He neithier felt nor affected any Wordsworthian raptures over external nature. Fine scenery did not (indeed, scarcely could physically) make much impression on him. He had never seen thie Lakes of Killarney, and did not manifest any longing to visit those far-famed resorts of angels, tourists, and poets. Nor was he very sympathetically alive to the world of sounds. I canl recall an amusing example of his indiffer ence to their varieties. A neighbour's lawn-mower lhad been continuing its rattle during a summer's forenoon, when some humorous person (it may have been his life long friend, Father Edmiund Hogan) remarked to hiim: " How persistently that pigeon has been- cooing ! " Father

Russell fell into the snare, and took this explanation of the music quite seriously.

Such lack of musical ear has been noticed in some eminent poets, and may coexist with fine sensibility to word

melody and verse-cadences. In such sensibility Father Russell was not deficient, yet he possessed it in no remark




able degree, and was certainly inclined to take matters of form too easily. He would not admit, for example, even in principle, that a rhyme is disqualified for use by being lhackneyed. This lack of delicate artistic conscience un

doubtedly imperils the survival as literature of much of hlis verse. Yet at his best he rose above his slack theory, and we can at once quote specimens of his work which

mnay, perhiaps, make the foregoing criticism of his technique seem surprising.

Here, for example, is a translated sonnet which always seemed to me both free from fault and full of beauty:

Behold, my soul, thv God who loves thee best, Whose side was opened by the cruel spear, This is thv resting-place, thv nest is here;

Poor wandering dove, fly to the nest, the nest! Behold, while life's false sea thou sailest o'er,

Thv God has placed a sheltering haven near, Whiere thou mayst nevermore the tempest fear;

Poor shattered bark, fly to the shore, the shore!

Behold, to quench thv thirst Christ opens wide 'Neath the rude lance a fountain in His side.

Poor panting fawn, the river, to the river! Thv river, 0 my soul, thy port, thy nest, Thy heaven itself is in the Saviour's breast.

Ah, whither fly? To heaven, to heaven for ever!

The original sonnet on St. Mary AMagdalen is scarcely less beautiful than this, and is still more perfect in its adherence to rigid form.

For the work of translation Father Russell was peculiarly well equipped. In addition to the sonnet quoted above, many proofs of his deftness as a reproducer of poetry might be cited-particularly from the epigranms which occupy the concluding pages of A Soggartk's Last V'erses. In the following, taken from Crashaw) he very successfully con denses his original:

ST. JOHN- THE EVANGELIST TO HIS MOTHER.

O mihi cur dextramn, mater, cur, oro sinistram Poscis, ab officio, mater iniqua, tuo ?

-Nolo manum Christi dextram mihi, nolo sinistram: Tam procul a sacro nolo esse sinu.

Ah, whly dost thou ask, 0 Mother, Right hand or left for me ?

So far from the Heart of Jesus I could not bear to be.



IN M1EMO-RIAM 549

Here is a happy effort in a lighter tone:

Le monde est plin de fous, et qui n'en veut pas voir Doit rester dans sa chambre, et briser son miroir.

The world is full of fools, and he Who wishes none to see,

Within his room his days miust pass And break his looking-glass.

If Father Russell's work did not always show punc tilious regard for artistic refinement, more than one cause

of this may be readily suggested. He wrote in order to

do good, far more than in view of merely academic laurels. He therefore readily adopted or tolerated whatever was likely to have a popular and wide appeal, regardless of

occasional trivialities or roughnesses which might condense the frown on the critical brow.

Again, he belonged, of couLrse, to the great genus of

journalists and occasional writers: and who amoing them can wholly escape the snare of hasty, superficial, unkempt work ? Who among themi-even a Louis Veuillot-does not leave to posterity a highly mixed legacy? Undoubt

edly a work of severe sifting will have to be done before the permnanent literary standing of Father Russell's best

performances can be securely fixed. The standard of his

prose style is more uniformily high than that of his versifica tion: it may be, as somne lhave thought, that his prose

will survive his poetry; but, however that may be, in

its graceful correctness, ease and lightness, it certainly marks him as one who is in the true line of descent from Goldsmith.

Meantime he enjoys a celebrity-greater outside Ireland than many of us know--wu hich is more of the heart than of the head-more love than fame. W'ho will say

how many souls lie has already cheered, consoled and strengthened ? Who will say how for many mnore his un

assuming pen is destined to sweeten the bitter cup of life with thoughts both comforting and healing ? One

might pray for the diffusion of such work as his, just as one might pray for sunshine on our hiarvests.

May iuany like himl- arise in our midst-many wlho will use their gifts-greater or less-as faithifully as he used



550 THE IRISH MONTHLY

his ! -And-there is one more wish which he would not like any one writing his In Memoriam to forget-may all those who feel towards his memory any emotion of love or

gratitude not allow it to rest an idle sentiment, but remem ber to lend him the aid he asked of them betimes in life, and hasten on the day of his entrance into the perfect consummation of just souls !

GEORGE O'NEILL, S.J.

On Monday, September i6th, the remains of Father Russell were laid to rest near the great Cross in the Jesuit corner of Glasnevin Cemetery, where the last le Pro/undis was said over his grave by Father William Delany, Pro vincial of his Order. The wonderful gathering of friends, clerical and lay, rich and poor, who came to pay their tribute to his memory and assist at the solemn Office and High Mass, testified to the esteem and love with which Father Russell was regarded by all who knew him. The Most Rev. Dr. Donnelly, Bishop of Canea, presided at

the sacred Ceremonies in St. Francis Xavier's Church, and it was fitting that the Bishop of his native Diocese should be represented, that the Administrator of his beloved Newry should be there, that Dr. MIannix should come from Maynooth and the President from Castleknock, and that

the Capital of Ireland, where he lived and worked so long, should send its Lord Mayor. The genial presence of Father

Matt, his cheery smile, and wish to help will be sadly missed by all xvho knew and loved him, but most of all by those of his religious brethren amongst whom he lived. To his personal friends his loss comes as a great and lasting sorrow, softened though it be by the hope that at last he is " At Home with God."

On the same day at a meeting of the City Couincil the following motion was proposed by the Lord Mayor, and passed in silence:-" That the Council place on record its expression of profound regret at the death of Father

Matthew Russell, and the loss they i-ecognize the country has sustained."

MAY HE REST IN PEACE.



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