Obituary - Fr Paul Nevill 1954

Born: 17 Aug 1882 – died: 25 Jan 1954
Clothed - 1 Sep 1899
Solemn Vows- 7 Oct 1903
Priest - 26 May 1907

Fr Paul Nevill was born at Dieppe on 17th August 1882. His mother, who lived to the immense age of 94, was a Fenwick of Warklington Hall, Hampshire, his father was Henry William Nevill of Holt. The Nevills were by tradition Catholics, never having been anything else. Mrs Nevill did not become a Catholic till some twenty years before her death. Valentine Nevill's father died in 1905. He had two brothers, the elder George and the younger Jack. Two strong Catholic influences were the Belingfelds of Roxburgh [sic AJ/CCE: perh. Bedingfeld of Oxburgh]and the parish priest of Beccles, Dom Ephrem Guy of Downside, who became a close friend of the boys when the family migrated to 'the Pines', a small house not far from Bungay, another Downside mission.

It is recorded by one of his friends that Val Nevill arrived as a new boy at Ampleforth in the year 1890, wearing the regulation Eton suit and, to give it glamour, a red tie. He was a happy and talkative child, gossip was meat to him; but he was happy in spite of the system that then prevailed. The chief effect of his schooling upon him was to make him react against it point by point. Where the old system was rigid he would be flexible; where prudish, he natural and open; where it relied on corporal punishment, he relied on it less and less. Where the old system tended to crush the spirit out of a boy, Fr Paul tried with all the skill of genius to restore and strengthen a failing spirit. The picture one receives of Val Nevill at this time is that of a round faced, loose limbed, laughing, talkative boy, with good brains and poor teachers. He became Head of the School in his last year. At games he was no professional though keen. The fact was that his limbs were not yet quite under control. He was a cheerful 'holiday bat,' and quite a passable soccer player.

In character he was spontaneous, a leader; in his youth somewhat overbearing, arrogant would be too strong a word. He knew what he wanted; and he had that intolerance excusable in youth, a trait he almost overcame with age. He was guileless and generous, he could not tell a lie, nor could he easily keep a secret.

On leaving school he did not spend time getting to know the world, he went straight into the novitiate at Belmont. There he would meet the coming generation of Downside and Douai, to say nothing of 'the grand old men' of the nineteenth century English Benedictine Congregation. That was in 1899. Simple Profession followed in 1900 and solemn Profession three years later. But meanwhile he had gone to Oxford to Hunter Blair's Hall in the autumn of 1902, a house of studies founded by the Prior of Ampleforth, Prior Burge, shortly before. It was there he received many of the formative influences of his life from the atmosphere of the university itself, partly from his life-long friend and tutor, Sir Ernest Barker, partly from the nature of his studies which were in the School of History, and partly from his companions at the Hall, not least Fr Bede Jarret, so different from him in many respects, but in some so like. They both sought the kingdom of God first. They both had an abiding interest in boys though very differently; yet Fr Bede learnt something of Fr Paul's robustness, and the latter something of Fr Bede's sensitive appreciation and power of sympathy. Both preached all their life, the 'Natural Virtues'.

In Finals Br Paul won a good second in the honours School of History. He had no alpha papers, but two alpha betas. His best work was in the political economy papers. In this matter he remained keenly interested all his life, though carefully avoiding any outward pledge to any political party. It is recorded that in his viva he asserted that Peterborough had been a pre-Reformation Benedictine see, being misled by the titular priorship in the gift of Douai Abbey.

Two years after his return to Ampleforth, in 1905, Br Paul was ordained priest. His life at Ampleforth may conveniently be divided, into four fairly distinct periods, the first from his return to the year 1914 when he was immersed in the School; the second from 1914 to 1924 when he was held at a distance, having become parish priest in the village; the third from 1924 to the second world war, the constructive years from the beginning of his Headmastership. The last period is from 1939 to his death on 25th January 1954, a period of consolidation and recognition.

During the first period, the new Headmaster, Fr Edmund, was as much led as leader. His lieutenants were Fr Placid Dolan, Fr Ambrose Byrne and of course, Fr Paul. These were the revolutionary years, when the plan was made, the means agreed. But to change so conservative an institution as a monastic establishment, and a north country one at that, could not be done in a day. There was a temporary reaction and, although the progress made was not reversed, Fr Paul was half withdrawn. He became as already said, parish priest in the village.

In the second period he still managed to keep his finger in the pie, since he had been given charge of the School part of the Journal in 1912, and in 1914 he was editor-in-chief. It became an instrument of policy. He wrote round England to collect articles from important people. Two articles during that period made something of a stir at the time, one, an attack on Abbot Butler's Western Mysticism by the noble veteran, Fr Anselm Wilson, another on St Gregory's Dialogues by the youthful pen of Fr Justin McCann. Bishop Hedley, Sir Mark Sykes and others were persuaded to contribute. Fr Paul only relinquished the editorship on becoming Headmaster in 1924.

In 1924 already much of the programme of reform had been carried out: the monitorial system had been established; studies had been improved and even a few scholarships, including classical ones, had been won at Oxford; the numbers in the School had more than doubled since the beginning of the century. On the other hand, the house system had not yet been attempted, and the number of boys of public school age was still ludicrously small. Besides, the whole place needed tidying up, needed to be made more efficient. The food was still in the tradition of Tom Brown's Schooldays.

Those years 1924-39 were years of expansion. Fr Paul persuaded Chapter after Chapter of the monks to vote money for new houses, new science buildings, new refectories, new classrooms, to buy Gilling Castle. He was not the only eager spirit. He had Abbot Edmund always at his side; but the latter was the more timid of the two. The result was a school of more than five hundred boys. He believed it was not only possible but indeed desirable to enlarge the School, provided it was divided into real units of manageable proportions.

At the same time he increased the tempo of the studies and raised the standard. For this he collected a first class stall of teachers, monks and laymen. He was strongly in favour of a good number of lay staff. Another instrument of work in which he was particularly interested was the School Library. This he furnished with the help of his friend, Mr Robert Thompson of Kilburn, and he provided it with the necessary books. The boys he believed should have immediate access to the shelves.

The examination results and the scholarship results were some indication that he had succeeded in his scholastic purpose. Spiritually he was even more concerned, knowing that it was useless to educate boys only intellectually. His aim was good Catholics. Here too he was no less original, indeed it has been said by a good judge that his chief claim to our gratitude is his establishing a sound religious groundwork for boys (This subject would need a chapter to itself). In the first place he did away with apologetics and reinforced doctrine and morals. He was against excessive prayers, but in favour of uniformity, steering away from all forms of the select few set up in pious coteries. Sentimentality or emotionalism he was convinced was detrimental to true religion.

In 1939 came the war. This last period was one of great pain to Fr Paul, not least from hearing as he did of so many of his finest boys being killed. During this period his health was not good; he had much sinus trouble, which had always been a background sickness with him. The lot of the Poles affected him specially. He felt that the Western Powers had not fulfilled their obligations to them; for him it was almost a personal responsibility. His response was to encourage the establishment of a Polish Hostel, St Casimir's, to house a number of Polish boys. For this disinterested and charitable act the Polish Government awarded him the high honour the Order of Polonia Restituta.

The noticeable development in the post war years was the growing connections Fr Paul had with the outside world, as it came to appreciate more and more his deep experience and wisdom. He had already been for some years a member of the Committee of the Public Schools Headmasters' Conference. Now, when the Government was setting up an advisory committee to aid them in educational matters, he was one of the first chosen. Meanwhile, calls on his time came from many quarters. Foreign headmasters would visit Ampleforth, e.g. from Belgium and from as far away as Peru, hoping to catch something of the spirit. He would readily spend hours helping them with his advice.

On the first page of Fr Paul's Bible, in which he had recorded the notable dates of his life, under a heading (written c. 1914), 'Progress, of a Failure', after the word 'Died', whose date of course was not filled in, come the words, and written quite recently, 'Pray for his soul. He requires it.' That is the best thanks we can give him. May he rest in peace.

So much for the outward happenings. Can one get any deeper? In the purely natural order there was something 'out-size' about him, not merely physically, where of course he was a giant, but also in natural gifts. His memory was unique: he knew every boy by name and all about him, and every Old Boy too, he could remember all about Ampleforth in his youth, his mind was full of anecdotes, the sort which could enliven a class. There was no meanness about him, or pettiness, his approach was always generous and large. Perhaps the best word to express all this is vision. He saw things big and he saw far. Here we are entering a different dimension. He could look ahead and also see all round a problem. Indeed he was one of those people not taken unawares by events but one who forestalled what was to happen by careful planning. Others do the same, but their planning lack that precision and realism which were so characteristic of his approach to questions.

Again on the natural plane, he had acquired a habit of work which was the envy of all those who knew him, and sometimes their trial. If he had nothing particular to do he would go in search. Once, just before a large group of American guests arrived, he appeared in Bolton House and decided that the panelling needed polishing - it did not - but he was not satisfied until he was doing it himself. Everyone remembers those crises of sickness - Fr Paul and a few stalwarts surviving, he carrying coal scuttles and bedsteads about the buildings. He was teaching by example. Once again we have entered a new dimension, that of grace.

An essential element in his character was his optimism. This pervaded all he did, and especially his attitude to boys. Many school masters become cynics, they know too much about 'boy'. Fr Paul always hoped in boys. He always looked for that spark of good even in the worst. This does not mean that he was not a realist - who more than he? - but he allowed for the grace of God and also for the fact that God did make us all in the first place. This gave him an open approach to them, free from suspicion, from superiority, from remoteness. This optimism made it possible for him to win his way against those who were always prophesying disaster. He never believed that the demand for the public school education would shrink. Had he believed the pessimists, he could not have led in the creation of the Ampleforth we know. It was that unconquerable optimism which won the day. Of course had this not been combined with that other quality already mentioned of vision, of constructive planning, his optimism might have been a danger.

His trust in others was also responsible for another element in his management of people, that is his power of delegating authority. Not only did he really believe in giving boys a share in the government of their own school, he also believed in the School itself being not an autocracy but an oligarchy, that is a group of almost independent units, houses each run by a Housemaster. He interfered as little as possible in the running of each of these separate establishments. If he gave a person a job, he did not want to be fussed by that person, coming to ask how to do it. He wanted it done in the way that person thought best. So each department of the School was organized as a self directing unit. This he knew was not only good for the work in hand but also good for the person in charge.

Singleness of purpose was most noticeable. Had Fr Paul been given charge of some other department, that department would have been the apple of his eye and would have flourished to the utmost of his ability. This singleness of purpose was evident in the minutest detail of his life, from the most important to the most trivial. As he offered Mass, he was engrossed in what he was doing. When reading a document or letter, his very lips moved to get the full flavour of the words; at the entrance of someone into his room, he either paid no attention at all, being engrossed in the matter in hand, or he gave one all his attention, and unlimited help within his power.

It was this singleness of purpose with regard to the School over so many years, from the moment that he returned from Oxford until his death nearly fifty years later, that was perhaps the reason that the School so grew and prospered. He saw everything, even people, as aids to the great end he had set himself: to make the School an equal if not superior to any school in the country. This was the motive of Abbot Edmund too, in this they were one. With this purpose he would in the early days travel, in order to make contacts, for this he would talk and write, show hundreds of visitors round - he would boast of having shown four groups in one afternoon - for this he would visit other schools and return full of some new notion, which he intended to try at Ampleforth.

But at the back of all this activity was a truly apostolic zeal. He saw that the greatest need of the Catholic body in England was an educated laity; we must not be an uncultured minority, but leaders both in thought and in behaviour. Like the great Jesuit missionaries in China he believed that culture counted. Not that he was unconcerned about the moral goodness of his pupils. It was that which always held his attention if being discussed: their devotion to the Mass after they had left, their witness to the faith wherever they might be in the world. He was most concerned about the teaching of religion in the School. He believed also strongly that a boy does not pray easily unless he can be near what is going on in church; remoteness he thought a danger to true devotion. Belonging as he did to the English Benedictine Congregation, and as a historian fully aware of the fact, his deepest apostolate was to the conversion of England. Thus his interest spread from work for education at Ampleforth to the whole field of Catholic education in this country. He made himself master of the intricate pattern of legislation in that matter. He became so expert that many depended upon his judgement. With it all he was a fund of stories, a good companion, a raconteur of the old style, a competent mimic in many dialects and manners.

All these qualities would not even between them have brought success to his ideals unless he had also had monastic qualities and had them in good measure. He was a splendid community man, enjoying the discussions, the fun, the activities of the community as a whole. He was a superb propagandist for his ideas. He would button-hole any number before some big decision and instil enthusiasm for his cherished schemes. Many a time others - perhaps unawares to themselves - would make his speeches for him. He was never above the community, always one with its life, ready to help in the smallest way, to help by his wide experience their families, help them in their own difficulties. He always brought reassurance, hope, confidence, strength. That was his nature and his conviction.

The monastic virtues were very prominent in his life. Although Fr Paul was at home among the great, he was even more at home with the poor. Never was a parish priest in Ampleforth so beloved. He was quite capable of letting someone else show round the mighty in the land and himself slip back and give a personally conducted tour to the chauffeur. When he travelled, he would not only be sparing of meals he often stood all the way from London to York. Rarely he came back without having engaged in some amusing or enlightening conversation. His requirements were of the simplest. Among his personal effects there was nothing extra. He was truly a poor monk.

He took pride in the School and he lauded it; this was all part of the showmanship of which he was a past master. But, as for taking any credit for himself, he was always anxious that the praise should go where it was due, to the joint work of the whole community and staff, and finally and all the time, to God. His delight at the success of some department or of some boy, was the joy at a thing well done, at the knowledge that the labour had not been in vain. God will surely not grudge him that pleasure. He gave it all back to Him in his prayers.

Obedience, to a man of his nature, would naturally be the most difficult of the monastic virtues. He was a man with tremendous ability and tremendous energy. It was not easy for him either to leave a work half done because obedience would restrain him, nor was it easy for him to accept a command which he according to his lights in his natural wisdom, learnt by much experience, saw to be - on the natural plane - unwise. It was a noble sight seeing a noble mind struggling with this inevitable problem. Obedience always won.

As to the other monastic vow that of chastity, he seemed to have preserved with regard to it almost the innocence of childhood. He showed great sympathy to those who had their growing pains in this difficult matter. He had a hardy annual of a story about his youth in connection with it: how he had been beaten as a boy for having dared to say in the prudish Victorian era that a calf came out of a cow.

The faithfulness of Fr Paul to his religious duties, in spite of the immense burden of practical work, is an imperishable example to all his brethren. It was rare indeed that he did not take his spiritual reading. The divine Office was, with the holy sacrifice of the Mass, the food which strengthened him to carry on with his heavy labours. To attend his Mass was a true spiritual experience, as his whole being was concentrated upon the holiness of the action he was performing. The care with which he pronounced the words, in that curiously French intonation which perhaps had survived from his childhood days at Dieppe, the slowness of the whole action, the devoutness of the actual moment of consecration, all these bore witness to the reverence with which he approached the Sacred Mysteries.

Like Abbot Smith he was drawn increasingly towards the Rosary. Often he had it in his hand when moving from one building to another in his daily rounds. The one saint for whom he had the most particular devotion was St Philip Neri. It was to his church in Rome that he sped with the most alacrity. When he died, there was on his person a simple little holy picture of him which he had bought or been given during that memorable pilgrimage to the Holy City in 1950. The reason for his devotion was that St Philip had a special influence with boys and young men. Fr Paul appreciated too his gay spirit, his optimism, his hope. Fr Paul himself was in the line of the great Benedictine builders, constructive geniuses and saints of the Benedictine centuries, a St Wilfrid, a St Boniface.

We naturally, and rightly, turn our minds to discover what it might be that made Fr Paul great, for assuredly he is great, not only in the world's eyes but in God's sight. We would know the secret, not so much of his success, as of his gift, and we would know in order, that in our small measure we might wield a like gift for the glory of God.

Most men, and indeed most saints, have had one virtue, or one characteristic, which integrated and ruled the rest. One is tempted to assert that the special feature of the character of Fr Paul was the multiplicity of gifts held in harmony, yet, if there was one pre-eminent in him, one ventures to suggest that it was hope or trust, or the assurance of God's help. Like a missionary he believed in those whom he would win. He knew them, yes, but he loved them too; he respected them because he saw them in a Christian way, that is he saw in them the image of God who had made them. He saw them, these boys, these people, each a separate creation, each worthy of esteem. Contempt was utterly alien to him, even for those who seemed most unyielding to his persuasions. They had been bought at too great a price.

This trust permeated his mind. He trusted, if he could, all those he met, not foolishly, but winningly. He trusted God most of all. This was both a natural and a supernatural virtue with him. He scorned only pessimism, which for him meant paralysis. Thus he had hope in England, in the English character of which his own was so fine a portrait. He did not theorise, he acted. With him thinking and acting were one in that thoughtful enthusiasm and confidence granted by heaven to those who had trust, in people and in Him who made them. At this point trust is akin to charity, they meet in a giving of self. Distrust withdraws, trust stretches out the hand. Fr Paul's hand was that of a true friend. An image of that trust and hope is engraved upon the character of all those who accepted that helping hand. Please God we shall never cease to trust. It is the virtue most demanded by our age; the virtue most characteristic of him.

'I have no hesitation in saying that Father Paul was the greatest Headmaster I have ever come in contact with.' That verdict comes from one with an unrivalled knowledge of Public and Preparatory Schools during the last quarter of a century but with no special interest in Ampleforth and its doings. We do well, therefore, to recognize that there is a whole world outside the college in which Father Paul made his personality felt and in which he served the cause of education.

It was in 1930 that he was invited to join a party of sixteen Headmasters, led by Sir Cyril Norwood, for an organized tour of Canada. The object of the tour was to visit Canadian Universities with a view to sending boys from British Schools to do their university courses and afterwards to find posts in Canada. The party covered practically all the provinces of Canada and the tour took about seven weeks. To Father Paul it was a great opportunity both of seeing the Dominion and telling its people something of the work of Catholic Public Schools, and also of getting to know intimately some of his colleagues in the other Public Schools.

From that time dates his great personal interest in the work of the Headmasters' Conference. Between 1929 and 1952, he was a co-opted member of the Committee of the Conference for nine years and he never failed to attend the Annual Meetings both of the Conference and the Incorporated Association of Preparatory Schools. In 1936 the Conference met at Ampleforth on the 22nd and 23rd December, and no one who attended is likely to forget the lovely sight of the Gilling Hills under snow. The Chairman of the Conference at that meeting was Mr H. H. Hardy, Headmaster of Shrewsbury, and the agenda included many of the problems in which Father Paul was specially interested and to the solution of which he was able later on to give help and advice. Among the subjects discussed were 'The Navy as a Career'; the expansion of the Royal Air Force; the American Scholarship Scheme, and the qualifications for admission to a University Degree course.

It was one of Father Paul's greatest pleasures to entertain at Ampleforth and during the war the Committee of the Conference met there for a two days meeting. One of the Committee, who was present, recalls that they worked very hard and that one of the meetings took place on the terrace after dinner on a beautiful summer evening with a view of twenty miles of Yorkshire country.

Father Paul's relations with his friends on the Committee of the Conference were intimate and, as always happens where there is complete confidence and understanding, there was plenty of good fun. He used to recall a certain discussion on religious instruction in school. 'In all schools, said an eminent Anglican Headmaster, there should be regular instruction and I should like to recommend a little textbook. It is true it is written by a Roman Catholic, but we need not reject it on that account. After all, the Roman Catholics are part of the Church.'

It is not surprising that as time went on the calls on his time became more and more numerous. Government departments were constantly seeking his advice and using his experience on committees and selection boards. His visits to London became more and more frequent and, since he never failed in his first duty to Ampleforth and the other Catholic Schools, he got little respite. Nevertheless, the frequent visits to London, when he stayed with old friends, were invaluable to him and he found as great refreshment in these contacts as his friends found pleasure.

Towards the end of his life the Minister of Education invited him to become a member of the Central Advisory Council set up under Section 4 of the Education Act, 1944. He might well have excused himself, but in fact he welcomed the chance of learning more about the working of the public system and of contributing his share to the solution of its problems. He liked his colleagues on the Council as much as they liked him and he enjoyed the work. But the technique of formal inquiries never appealed to him as much as personal contacts and practical problems. As the questionnaires and memoranda piled up he became a little impatient. 'All very valuable' he used to say, 'but I think it would help if they could try out their views on some of the practising teachers in the schools.'

In Coronation year his great work for education was recognized by the honour of Commander of the Order of the British Empire conferred by Her Majesty the Queen. Father Paul was pleased for the sake of the School; but, as he himself said, he was more interested in the heavenly reward than in earthly honours. It is our belief that the help which he gave unsparingly to the cause of education throughout, his life will continue to be given by his prayers now that his work here is done.

By any standards, Father Paul was a great man. For the several thousands of boys who approached manhood under his care, he will always be Ampleforth. We felt for him the awe that is proper to a headmaster, but it was never simply fear. It survived leaving school and on leaving we found it had contained a quality of real affection. Not many men can have died with so many admirers and so many friends.

I cannot imagine him being forgotten. The tall monk with the weary, commanding face poring over his breviary in the corner stall under the canopy in the choir, singing seldom and unwillingly. The priest in a black chasuable saying mass in November for those killed in war. The headmaster making a speech, delighting in the accuracy of syllables - 'the amiculi and bacilli in the open air swimming bath'. The history teacher who made an enormous entertainment out of nineteenth century British politics and left his pupils with an uncritical admiration for Disraeli for the rest of their lives. The headmaster at the top of the stairs, his hands thrust into his wide belt, his tall body bent a little to one side, over-worked and yet still blazing with energy. The host in the guest room in the evening surrounded with friends - with Father Stephen and Father Ignatius - making of conversation a studied and rewarding art, something enormously to be enjoyed - though most men say it no longer exists in the world.

But he was more than the sum of that. He had an English splendour about him. He took an obvious delight in his religion and his nationality and he distrusted what was pretentious or merely sentimental. He was obviously a brilliant administrator, but of that we knew little. Yet we were certain that he was great and we took an odd pride in him as something special to the school and our affection, which grew with knowledge, made each new meeting a new pleasure. It seems a strange thing that he is dead, but there is still a pleasure in remembering that you knew him.

Among present Amplefordians the loss of Father Paul will naturally be felt with varying depths of emotion depending upon how well they knew him not only as their Headmaster but also as their friend and adviser. Some had known him for under a week, others had been fortunate enough to know, respect and admire him for over four years. But all, from the top of the School to the bottom, were stunned by their Housemasters' announcement at lunch, only five days after the beginning of the term. At prayers that morning he had given out that he would see us in the theatre that evening to give us the address he customarily gave at the beginning of each term; some of us had seen him on his way up to the infirmary in the break, paying his last daily call on the sick. But shocked as we were by the news, its full significance was not at once realized but became apparent gradually over the few days that followed; at prayers the next morning or at the Requiem, during the obituaries given by our Housemasters, or perhaps not until the funeral three days later. It was this, together with Father Paul's principle of delegation of authority, that was responsible for his death being taken exactly as he would have wished, with complete continuity and as little inconvenience as possible. How pleased he must have been to see how few study periods were lost for his sake! Throughout one's career in the School from the Fourth Form to the Sixth one never doubted his eminence as a Headmaster and became increasingly conscious of his greatness as a monk. Never was he too busy to see any member of the School; always was he ready to lend advice, when sympathy and comfort were needed.

In Memoriam V.P.N.

Si qua sui memores laus est fecisse sodales,
Si coluisse pia religione Deum,
Si juvenum mentes studio fovisse paterno,
Hanc tu praecipuam, care magister, habes.

On the morning after Fr Paul died, a Solemn Requiem was sung in the Abbey Church by Fr Sebastian, at which the staff and the whole School were present.

The funeral took place at Ampleforth on Thursday, 28th January. The dirge the evening before was attended by many Catholic headmasters. Fr Abbot sang the Requiem Mass at the funeral and gave the absolution. The panegyric (of which we publish extracts below) was preached by Fr Leetham, Headmaster of Ratcliffe, an old friend of Fr Paul.

Owing to the large number of persons present only the senior part of the School could be accommodated in church. The remainder, though officially occupied with study, were present in large numbers on the road and found a place to stand in the cemetery.

Among those who attended the funeral, besides members of Fr Paul's family and Old Boys of Ampleforth, were representatives of many parts of the Church in this country, of educational institutions and authorities, and of local authorities and organizations. There were also present many personal friends and, not least, many members of the Ampleforth parish.

The weather was very cold but brilliantly sunny as the procession climbed the hill to the cemetery, where the bareness of winter was relieved by snowdrops, already flowering in the wood. After the interment the Community retired and the other mourners filed past the vault. It was in this vault that Abbot Edmund had been the first to be laid and now Fr Paul was the last.

It was sixty-four years since Fr Paul first appeared at Ampleforth. How big a mark he had made here in that time! It seemed strange to look on an Ampleforth from which he was and would be absent. But the sun shining on the woods and hills seemed to hint that we should rejoice to have known him and to have inherited so much at his hands.

'Thus spoke Samuel, the teacher of Israel, when, his work completed, he addressed the people, and handed over his authority to him whom he had anointed. Fr Paul Nevill might use these words, his work completed, confident that we should heed them, certain that they would console us; warning us that the work of God, through him, must endure in our hearts even though that rich-toned voice is now only a loved memory. He died on the feast of his patron, called as St Paul, having answered calls all his life, and this was just another.

As the hours go by, we learn that all Fr Nevill's acquaintances were his friends, and he would allow the claim. You never knew how much of him you received, yet it was more than any but an intimate friend could communicate. It is of that that I would speak. Another must weave the story of his life; the development of his monastic life, which gave meaning and purpose to all he did, is known best to his brethren; only a boy could reveal in a flash of unselfconscious reaction, the phrase that might sum up the great Headmaster. With greater or with lesser claim, all whom he influenced, all whom he met, were his friends. His soul was gay and cares sat lightly on him, and God spared him the difficult purification of old age; God was always present to him.

We could speak of what the world well knows, the great changes made in this ancient school under the Headship of Fr Nevill, buildings erected, scholarships attained, fame achieved, Ampleforth respected throughout the land as the best of Catholic schools, worthy to be compared with the best of another tradition. Public opinion places all this at the feet of the great Headmaster. He was not a legend, he was a living fact. He did not die in feeble retirement, a name once known that should be revived for an obituary. He lived upon the flood of Ampleforth's renown. But this does not seem the time to speak of success when the book is open, and the judgement is not upon those things. It is better to consider what it was that Fr Paul did to serve his Master; and how that work leaves him still with us, not in a name that will echo among the halls of this school, or be chanted on a touch line, but as a living presence such as is that of those who die in the kiss of Christ. For Christ he lived, and he sought to place the love of the Son of God in the hearts and wills of boys, and he shared the love of Christ with his brethren; and therefore his life well-lived, he lives still with us in Christ; and what he sought to spread upon the earth wherever Ampleforth boys are to be found, is still his prayer, even as it was the prayer of Samuel. In his life-time those who had left the School and could no longer return, knew Fr Nevill and loved him, and though his presence could not cheer and encourage them, they felt him still in the remembered voice, the look, the gesture, in that which had formed their youth, made them men, made them worthy Catholics. There is no need to set up a memorial, except for our consolation, no need to plant a grove, unless to prolong a memory; for the great thing has been done, and boys have learnt to love God and to save their souls in a shaken world, and Fr Paul is here and always will be, to encourage and to pray before the throne of God. His greatest work is to come, if only we fear the Lord and serve Him with all our heart and remember the great works He hath done amongst us.

Fr Paul was a brother of this Monastery, a man vowed to God, son of St Benedict, formed to those ideals of Christian perfection that gave serenity to his gaze and calm penetration to those fascinating eyes. His home was the monastery, and he carried to the School, and he gave to each of his boys the Benedictine sanctuary that is proof against the world, the inward guardian of grace. With him there was no clamour, his way was quiet. I read he was a disciplinarian! Surely a look would suffice. He was no headmaster of Arnold's race, where perfection was leadership, and a sense of responsibility to the lesser nations. He had indeed the prestige granted to great men, and his sovereign aptly honoured him among the ranks of those who had benefited the whole land. But there was more; his greatness was his humility towards all men, while he gave great things, knowing that he was the medium of God's grace to the souls committed to his charge.

He had no formula, for he looked at each soul and its needs and his look was searching to understand, humble before a soul redeemed by the Blood of Christ. When he asked (as he often did) 'What do you think of Ampleforth boys?' he was looking for no compliment. He wondered if he had done his job well enough. The boy was his care for life, and life to be worthwhile was to be eternal. Amplefordians are to be found in every corner of the world, and his name and person live wherever they are to be found. Young men would look at him in a way that spoke of reverence and affection, and yet those saw him no more, loved and reverenced him no less. None of us will look at him again until the glorious resurrection, but in the Communion of Saints he is with us still, most with us in this Abbey Church, more with us now than even in his life, closer through the humanity of Christ, which we share.

St Benedict, that Roman whose life was cast in days when civilization was visibly failing, was magna pars in Paul Nevill. It is one of the miracles of God's providence that his Rule took away from the world when it most needed them the best spirits and the best minds, and yet by their means built up over the generations, through the lives and deaths of many saints, a new and better way of living for the whole world. In each nation, the Rule took the colour and form of the genius of the race, and nowhere more wonderfully than in this England. The culture of the Universities, the tone of the countryside, have traces of Benedictine peace that the centuries have not been able to efface. It is the privilege of this house to have carried through ages of persecution and exile in foreign lands the great tradition of education that so suits the unhurried life of the Rule, an education freely English; untainted by German theologians or Calvinistic Puritans. Fr Nevill brought as far as is humanly possible, the perfection of English gentility to be the medium of his Benedictine formation, and this is what gave so insistent a charm to his person. He was always, in any company, the most impressive and attractive figure, his friendly voice conveyed the clarity of his mind, not obscured by those flattering hesitations of his, and when he spoke to you, you felt you received an individual gift. His was a grace of movement, untouched by age, a soothing voice; a happy sense of fun, a conspiracy of laughter in face of pomposity. He was not impressed by words; and that which defeated your analysis was the Benedictine peace that reigned in his heart and which made his judgement kindly, his words effective and his manner without pretence or emphasis. How lordly was his thanks, largess strewn with grace: not a gift of words but the touch of a rich humanity.

This is not the place to speak of the ease with which he moved in the world, where prejudice would disappear before him, where he could as easily give help from his boundless charity as he could to those of his own household; he did great work for the Headmaster's Conference on whose Committee he was a respected member, and I must mention the work he did for other schools and to the cause of Catholic education. He was for twelve years, until his death, Chairman of the Committee of the Conference of Catholic Colleges, constantly re-elected. He gave generously of his time and sage advice. He encouraged especially the struggling school, the new headmaster, and to all he held out the highest ideals, presenting with that peculiarly kindly humour what he wished to temper to an audience unattuned. As a member of that body, which he sustained so long and so selflessly, I thank this monastery and school. He gave us distinction without making his favours weigh upon us, he enlightened us with his experience and Socratic questionings, and he shared his success with us and showed us above all that as you teach, you learn. We pray for him, for even the saints have their requiem, and Fr Nevill was always afraid of his losses. This prayer ought to be the measure of our gratitude. For the rest, he prays for us: 'Far from me that I should cease to pray for you'. It is his continuing work. 'Fear the Lord and serve Him with your whole heart, for you have seen the great works which he has done among you.' It was the work of the Lord, the opus Dei, and the work goes on. Greater than these buildings Fr Nevill helped to raise, greater than his person, is what he helped to build in the hearts of his boys who will grow old and die as he, but the structure will endure: more boys will come, and another will lead them to the same end as long as in this monastery is kept the spirit of Benedictine prayer that inspired Fr Paul's life.

It was a particular charm of Fr Paul Nevill that Ampleforth was so often in his thoughts and words, and you might have thought that in the very simplicity of his recital comparisons hid some vanity of achievement, but he never thought of it all as his own creation. He rejoiced in success as a man who likes to share in a job well done, but in fact, Fr Nevill placed it all to the credit of his brethren and of his staff. It was God that gave the increase, of which he was reminded a few minutes before his death, and he said that he had never forgotten it. This is the Fr Paul I knew; he had much more, but nothing greater than the love of God, of his vocation, of his school, of all men.

Fr Abbot sang a Requiem Mass for Fr Paul on 1st February, at the Brompton Oratory, and similar public Requiem Masses were offered about this time in Dublin, Oxford, Cambridge, Liverpool and Gibraltar. At the Oratory Cardinal Griffin was represented by his Vicar-General, Mgr Canon Morrogh-Bernard, and a large congregation of friends of Ampleforth, Old Boys and others, was present. Mgr Knox preached and we print extracts of this.

'What, do we need letters of recommendation to you, or from you, as some others do? Why, you yourselves are the letter we carry about with us, written in our hearts, for all to recognize and to read.' - II Cor. iii.

St Paul, who always got his metaphors mixed, puts it the wrong way round, and says: 'You are written on my heart', instead of 'I am written on your hearts' - which was what he meant. Never mind, it all comes to the same thing. What it means is that St Paul, the author of all those epistles which have been read and studied and argued over for nineteen centuries, wasn't really proud of his performances with paper and ink. What he was proud of was a little group of souls at Corinth, on whom the image of Christ had been stamped through his ministry. They were his credentials, they were the sign-manual of his apostleship.

When it was last my melancholy privilege to preach before a friend's catafalque, trying to interpret something of his quality, and weigh the measure of our loss, it was a writer of history whose name is known throughout the civilized world; and the congregation which filled the Cathedral was, I suppose, a cross-section of London. To-day, we are once again mourning a historian, but one whose vocation, and perhaps his tastes, opened up to him a quite different way of externalizing the message that was in him. And that, not merely by teaching history, though he was an exact and a stimulating teacher. For thirty years of unremitting devotion he laboured to stamp his Master's image on each boy - not on all the boys, on each boy - who passed through Ampleforth. That was his epistle in life, that is his testament in death. I suppose I am talking to many who enjoyed that privilege; thinking little of it at the time, because boys don't think much, but seeing more clearly, now in retrospect, what it meant. Is it intrusive of me if I labour the moral of my text? You are his epistle; his influence is graven in your hearts; and do not doubt that, like the Apostle of the Gentiles, he carried you, and carries you, in his.

Not that the School, or the boys in the School - that was the extraordinary things - absorbed all his energies. We others, who knew Ampleforth only as guests, knew Father Paul as a friend who always had leisure for you, always welcomed you as if you were the person he had looked forward to seeing. That welcomingness of his, how we valued it! Only a few days ago I was discussing recent changes in the staff with a great friend of Ampleforth, who said: 'Of course, there's always Fr Paul'. But alas, in this unsatisfying world there is never always anybody. On the feast of St Paul's Conversion he sat in his room, his breviary at his side, as if he had just put it down. Perhaps some remembered phrase from the Epistles was among his last earthly thoughts. 'This is what we look for in choosing a steward; we must find one who is trustworthy. Yet for myself, I make little account of your scrutiny, or of any human audit-day' - did his mind travel back over that long pageant of speech-days in which he had stood, so deprecatingly, before the storm of our applause? And, so imitating closely the example of that great Abbot who had been his predecessor, he died suddenly and in harness, left us as unostentatiously as he had ruled us, all those thirty years.

Nobody who has watched the splendid curve of Ampleforth's development can doubt of one thing about it; it has been done by teamwork. But that very fact, that he could work with and through a set of loyal colleagues without any cost to his sense of responsibility of their sense of independence, was a fresh flowering of greatness. There are, in a general way, two kinds of great administrators; those who have an uncanny mastery of detail, and those who know how to delegate responsibility to their lieutenants. Fr Paul defied all the probabilities by being both at once. His grasp of detail was staggering; you could not talk to him about any boy in the School, or any Old Boy, or any parent for that matter, without discovering that he knew them, and knew all the relevant facts about them. He had everybody pigeonholed. And yet, at Ampleforth, more than at most schools, you are conscious that each house does reflect, in some undefinable way, the influence of the Housemaster. Devolution was a reality, because Fr Paul trusted his staff, and they trusted him.

Was he, then, a martinet, a totalitarian genius determined to force every boy who came to Ampleforth into a single mould? Was it by the methods of a moral drill-sergeant that he achieved, in these thirty years, such impressive results? That is the idea many people have of Catholic education; and such methods are not in accord, obviously, with the spirit of our times. Well, if there is anybody in this church who did not know Fr Paul, let me tell him that to us, who knew Fr Paul, such a notion of him is laughable. Always he rode you with a light rein; what left his stamp on you was not a code of rules, but daily contact with a man whose life was an example of living.

The same qualities which made such a conscious and such a profound impression upon outside observers who came across him, and above all in that world of schoolmasters and educationists which is so critical, yet found in Fr Paul nothing to criticize - those qualities were impressing themselves on you, quite unperceived, from the mere fact of daily intimacy; the influence of the man was getting in under your skin, although you would have scorned to admit it. A man full of natural dignity, yet utterly free from affectation, retaining, for all his great experience of life, the massive simplicity of the cloister; not charitable merely in his judgements, but always generous in his appreciation of other people's good qualities; an enthusiast without illusions, a stern moralist without harshness of censure and, above all, as a religious should be, a man of exact observance and living faith. Such a man has gone from us; and, let me repeat it, you are the epistle he has left behind him, for all to recognize and to read. What you make of life, what mark you leave on the world, will be the measure of Fr Paul's success.

Only, let me repeat it, he makes little of our scrutiny, or of any human audit day. To his own Master he stands or falls; may that Master's face shine on him gentle and welcoming, as his did on ours. For him, as for all men, encompassed as we are by frailties, we must ask God's mercy.

PAUL NEVILL

Details from the Abbey Necrology