In the autumn of 1844, Abbot Bury, or Brother Austin as he was then, was appointed to teach French to the last Class in the Upper School at Ampleforth. He was then in his 18th year, and even then had the appearance of a youth who combined great force of character with great muscular strength. His most striking feature was a certain concentration in his look, by which it appeared that he hid all his mental faculties well in hand, and, like well trained troops, they could be brought to bear with effect upon any object to which they might be directed. As the November examination brought about some changes in the teaching staff, my acquaintance with Br. Austin was then of very short duration.
He returned from Italy in the summer of 1848. From '48 to '49 was our year of Poetry. Br. Austin took us in Greek, French and Geometry. As a master, he always came to class with the lesson thoroughly well prepared. His patience in demonstrating a difficult problem to a slow, dull student was simply imcomparable. Sometimes he would use a variety of illustrations, sometimes he would descend into the student's mind and from what he did know lead him step by step to the solution of his difficulty. Though naturally of an irascible temper he was never known to give a penance. There was evidently such a reserve of strength behind that manner that no one usually dared to take any liberties. And is not the frequent infliction of penances a proof of weakness? Does not such a circumstance show that the master's influence requires to be strengthened by the use of other and external means?
It must not be gathered from the above that no attempts at diversion were ever made; but it was always without success. On one occasion, one who was considerably older in years than the Master was engaged at class in translating viva-voce a passage of Homer. The Poet was describing his heroes at a banquet, quaffing 'black wine'; *** whereupon the student, with a degree of assurance that was habitual to him, observed that this liquor was probably the predecessor of 'black jack,' a drink popular in many low pot-houses in some districts. The class tittered. But there was a sudden expression of anger, on the part of the master, not unlike a growl, and then a look was shot at the delinquent, under which he quailed, and meekly continued the work of translation. As we left class, the offender whispered in my ear, 'I will never try that game again; Br. Austin does not like it.'
It was owing to Father Austin Bury's suggestion, that the admirable treatises of Aristotle on Poetry and Rhetoric were made part of the course of studies in the fifties of the last century. By means of these not only did students learn thoroughly the principles of the two arts, but were then gradually prepared for the higher studies of Logic and Philosophy. Though it is the custom amongst some to decry the writings of Aristotle as being as dry as chopped straw, Boileau, the French Poet, did not hesitate to say that he learnt more from Aristotle's Rhetoric than from any other book that he had ever used, and those who know the treatise will readily believe this to be true.
In the December of 1850, Br. Austin was raised to the Priesthood, and was appointed to teach: Philosophy and Theology. When my confrères and I were professed in 1852, we fell to his charge. This was a singular piece of good fortune. It was not merely that we had a good course and were well taught, but were imbued with a spirit of study and a taste for Ecclesiastical studies, without which there is no solid or persevering progress. In this respect the whole community of St. Lawrence's at that time were indebted to Fr. Austin Bury to an extent which can never be repaid or even sufficiently acknowledged.
For this work he was eminently fitted. As the old Latin translation of Aristotle has it, 'Intellectus humanus natus est divisa componere et composita dividere.' He had the gift of analysis in a very high degree. To show this, one instance alone may be sufficient. A work on some point of Philosophy had been sent to the Prior. It was a pretentious book of some 500 pages. As we went to the Calefactory after dinner for the usual recreation, this book, which was lying on the table, was picked up by Fr. Austin. He spent the usual half hour in looking through it and at the same time joining occasionally in a sort of desultory conversation. At the end of the time he asked me to join him for a walk. As we left the monastery he alluded to the book, stating the theses which it professed to advocate, giving in detail the several proofs and illustrations, and showing which were good and sound and which were poor and defective. The review of the work was complete. In such efforts as this he was assisted by a quick, most retentive and most accurate memory. Some perhaps at times have been disposed to think that the account given of this gift of Father Bury was somewhat exaggerated. To them the very existence of such a quality in such a degree seems an impossibility. But does not history record many instances of persons gifted with phenomenal memory? Is it not recorded of Cyrus that he knew every soldier in his army, and of Themistocles that he could call by name the 20,000 Athenians who made up the male population of the City in his day? Is it not said of Leibnitz that he could repeat the whole of Virgil's Aeneid by heart? Of Ben Johnson, a most prolific author, that he could repeat all that he had written and whole books he had read? Of Dr. Johnson that he never forgot anything that he had seen or heard or read? Of Burke, Grotius and Pascal that they forgot nothing that they had read or ever thought? Are not these instances sufficient to prove that a phenomenal memory is not an impossibility?
Fr. Austin, during our years of poetry (1848 and 1849), read with us the French Poets, Corneille, Racine, La Fontaine, &c., &c. Five years afterwards, in 1853, we were walking out together. Some French Parlour Boarders had joined us. A discussion was raised on the respective merits of English and French Poets. When Father Bury quoted whole speeches from Shakespeare I was not surprised. But I was surprised when he quoted not merely whole speeches but whole scenes from Racine and Corneille, works which he had not seen since he had read them with us at class five years before.
When, during the year of Rhetoric, we read with him the Orations of Demosthenes, if a doubt were raised about the quantity of any word, Fr. Austin could always quote a line of Homer for the solution of the difficulty. We came to the conclusion that he knew Homer by heart.
He could, after simply reading a long and abstruse article of St. Thomas, repeat the objections, the body of the article, and the answers to the objections easily and accurately.
In 1880 or thereabouts, he had to go to Rome on business. On his way he stopped at Florence in order to call on the General of the Jesuits. The General was from home; hence Fr. Bury had to await his return. One day, for recreation, he took a walk to a village at a little distance from the city, and at mid-day went into a place of refreshment for lunch. In the middle of the meal he was conscious of the presence at the table behind him of some four or five young men, who were amusing themselves by decrying and abusing the Church and everything connected with it. He bore the infliction until he had finished his meal, and then he turned round to them. 'Evidently,' he said, 'you are Florentines. Well, will you tell me what, worthy of notice in any way, would remain in Florence, if the works inspired by the Church in the way of buildings, statues and pictures were taken away? Simply shops and barracks.' Quoting a long stanza from Dante, he asked: 'Is there one amongst you who can tell me what this means? Not one of you. Dante was a Theologian. And you know nothing of Theology; though Theology is the first and the most important of all sciences. Is it right to say of you in consequence that you are only half educated? Can you tell me the meaning of these lines?' And he quoted again two other stanzas. 'These are verses of exquisite beauty, and you cannot comprehend them. You leave it to us foreigners to understand and appreciate and enjoy the finest of your Poets. And we have this advantage over you because we study Theology as taught by the Church.' He rose up, said his grace, and went out. When recording the incident, he remarked: 'I felt they were staring at me as I walked away, but I felt also that I had scored.'
Abbot Bury found great fault with several of the hymns used in the modern Offices of the Passion. The miserable versification, the poverty of ideas, the unfortunate choice of words and usually half-pagan allusions, made them, he declared, altogether unworthy of the events which they commemorated. He used to say that the mere recitation of them made his flesh creep, and was a severe part of his Lenten penance. Perhaps the Papal commission will do something in the way of remedying these deficiencies?
His model of an Ecclesiastical Poet was St. Thomas Aquinas. He often recited his verses as given in the Office and Mass of Corpus Christi and elsewhere, with lips quivering with emotion. On one occasion I remember him, after quoting the stanza -
affirm as a fact that Ariosto the Italian Poet would have given all that he had ever written to have been the author of those four lines.
Let me narrate two other incidents and then draw to a conclusion.
The first regards the old Republic of Venice and its civil administration. Abbot Bury heard it in 1846 from one who had it from the lips of the nobleman to whom the incident happened. It occurred about the year 1775. A certain Italian Count (I forget the name) then about 26 years of age, went to Venice, a busy, gay and lively city, for the purpose of recreation and of having what the Yankees call a good time. He arrived at night. After his coffee next morning he went out to enjoy the sights of the city. During his ramble he saw an article in a shop window, which he thought would be useful to him. He went in and ordered it. But when he sought for the wherewith to pay, he found that his purse was missing. There were several parties in the shop, and he exclaimed 'I have not been in Venice 24 hours and I have been robbed. My purse has gone, and this is a city which boasts of the honesty of its people, and of the perfection of its civil administration.' He went out in disgust and continued his walk. About mid-day he made his way to his hotel. On arrival there he was met by his host, who with a very grave look informed him that a summons had been left for him by an officer of the secret police, requiring his immediate appearance. Upon being questioned, he informed the landlord what had happened, and protested that he did not wish to go; that the loss of the purse was not a matter of grave moment, and that he did not wish to give any further trouble. The landlord, however, assured him that he had better go, that he was watched, and that if he failed to obey or attempted to leave the city, he would be arrested, flung into prison, and then probably nothing more would be ever seen or heard of him.
At length he was persuaded. When he reached the office, an attendant, before admission, asked him his name, and then directed him to go along the passage and at the end to turn to the right, where he would receive further instructions. About the middle of the second passage, he met another functionary who, after asking his name, ushered him into a large room, which was divided into two parts by means of a curtain of heavy material some eight feet in height. In the part in which he found himself, there was no furniture whatever, but on the wall to his right there was something covered by a curtain of material similar to that which divided the room. He had scarcely time to notice these particulars when a voice from the other side of the curtain asked him who he was? He gave his name. 'How long had he been in Venice?' He replied that he arrived last night. 'Had anything notable occurred since his arrival?' 'Yes, he had lost his purse, but that was not a matter of grave moment.' 'True,' said the voice, 'and when you discovered the loss, you impugned the probity of the citizens of Venice and the vigilance of the civil administration. There is a curtain to your right. Draw it.' There he saw a corpse hanging by a rope round its neck, and it had a purse in its hand. The voice then informed him that the thief was there and that the purse was the one stolen. 'Take the purse,' it said. 'Leave Venice within 24 hours, and learn henceforth to speak with more respect of the civil administration of the Republic.' It is needless to say that he never felt desirous of going to Venice again.
The second incident is more pleasing. It occurred shortly after the occupation of Rome by the Italian troops, and was told to Fr. Bury by one of the officers who was present.
A General of Division was giving a dinner party to some young officers of different regiments. The day was Friday. During the process, the General noticed a young man who was not eating anything. After learning who he was, he asked the meaning of it. The young man was aware that soldiers are exempt from abstinence on Friday, when fed at the public expense, but not when entertained by others. He at once therefore rose to his feet and said, 'General, I believe that every Catholic should obey the laws of the Catholic Church. The Catholic Church on occasions like this forbids Catholics to eat meat on Fridays. I am a Catholic and I therefore can eat no meat here to-day.' The officers present were thunderstruck. During the silence which ensued, everyone wondered what would happen next. Meanwhile, the General called the head waiter, and instructed him to supply the young Lieutenant with something that he could eat. Nothing further occurred until the end of the meal. Then the general got up and observed: 'Gentlemen, I cannot allow you to leave the table to-night without presenting our united thanks to the young Lieutenant for the admirable lesson which he has given to us in moral courage.'
It seems to me best to conclude this paper with an extract from one of the last letters of the Abbot to me. The occasion was this: our Fathers at Brownedge were given to understand by the Doctor that the duration of the Abbot's life was very uncertain; indeed that it was not improbable that he might be found dead in his bed any morning. Under the circumstances it seemed to them desirable that he should receive the last Sacraments. But this was a delicate thing to propose. One of them came over to me to know whether I had any objections to do so. I wrote to the Abbot, at once, to the effect, that as there appeared to be some uncertainty as to his state, he had right to receive the last Sacraments; but that it was not necessary to make this public; that I would come out and do that service for him quietly, as if making an ordinary call.
To this he replied. 'I am much obliged by your kind offer and the interest you take in my health. But my case has I think been overstated;.... indeed the Doctor at times seems to hold out hopes of ultimate recovery. As to this I cannot agree with him. I think this buzzing in the head which is so frequent must intimate some cerebral disturbance; and the fact of its having continued, with short intervals, for months induced me to take it as a merciful warning. I cannot expect death to be far distant. It makes me hear 'Memor esto quia mors non tardat;' and I take it as 'Ecce sto ad ostium et pulso.' I have so often repeated the Ave Verum Corpus &c., that I have every hope that as our Lord in His goodness grants me now the daily celebration of Mass so He will grant me in His mercy to receive the last rites.... You know I am always rejoiced to see you and am touched to the heart by your solicitude. When the time comes I shall be very glad to accept the kind offer of your administrations, &c.,&c.' In accordance with the arrangement he received the last Sacraments on Wednesday the 30th of December, I903. He lingered, sometimes better sometimes worse, until Friday, January 8th. He then collapsed completely, died on Sunday, January 10th, and was buried on January 14, 1904.
My own experience of his character and methods begins with the year 1853-4 when I was one of a class of students (at Ampleforth) who, having finished their 'Rhetoric,' were taken by him through a course of Logic and Metaphysics. There were five of us - and three have passed away, viz., Father Oswald Tyndall, Father Benedict Murphy, and Mr. Thomas Byron. There remain Father Ildefonsus Brown and myself. Father Bury, returning from Italy in 1848, had brought back with him a thorough knowledge and enthusiastic appreciation of the philosophy of St. Thomas of Aquin and the strict Thomistic School represented by Cardinal Cajetan and Joannes a Sancto Thomƒ. Before this time metaphysical philosophy at Ampleforth had been represented by such writers as Locke, Watts, Reid and Stewart - as at other Colleges in England. When Fr. Bury began with our class he had already taught two, if not three courses. I think the first class that he took consisted of the late Abbot Hickey, Abbot Prest and another. The second would be the late Fr. A. Pozzi, Fr. Gregory Brierley and another. Then would come the class of which Father Wilfrid Brown, Father Paulinus Wilson, and Father Romuald Woods are illustrious survivors. One difficulty in the way of his teaching was the want of books. There were no manuals of the Thomist philosophy to put into the hands of young men. Goudin existed - but Goudin at that date, was only to be had in old and comparatively rare editions. Besides, Abbot Bury did not altogether like Goudin, whom he did not consider a thorough-going Thomist. The great course of Sanserino, of Naples, who may be called the pioneer of the Thomist revival, had not then appeared, and if it had, it would have been too long for use as a text-book. Neither had Liberatore then published his course. But Liberatore was never much liked by Abbot Bury. Whilst studying in Italy under the Abbot Bianchi, of Parma, he had put into his hands a MS. course of Logic and Meta physics by Padre Sordi, S.J. This he brought to Ampleforth. I think the only copy that was brought over was one made by Father Lawrence Shepherd (Abbot Bury's companion in the Italian sojourn); it was, I remember, beautifully transcribed in Father Shepherd's excellent hand. Members of the community were set to multiply copies of this - and for several years it was part of the 'dura et aspera' of the novitiate to copy Padre Sordi. These copies our class had to use - and it may be said that some of them were about as badly written as any novice could write. They were not laid aside till 1858 or 1859, when the teaching of Philosphy was transferred to St. Michael's, Hereford.
Padre Sordi's manual contained a clear and developed exposition of Thomistic and Aristotelian teaching in Logic, Ontology, Psychology and Ethics. Father Bury considered that his Psychology was especially well done. His Ontology, on the other hand, was somewhat deficient - and we had to supplement in out of Cajetan, Joannes a St. Thomas' and St. Thomas' own De Ente et Essentia. With regard to Logic, I remember that Father Bury used to illustrate the syllogisms by diagrams, in a fashion which virtually anticipated Hamilton and Jevons.
Afterwards, when going through our theological course at Ampleforth, we had the advantage of being taken by Father Bury through the whole of the Summa of St. Thomas. He knew St. Thomas perfectly. Moreover, he possessed that keen, analytical mind which distinguishes between term and term, which fixes the scientific value of patristic phrases, which sorts into classes the scattered dicta of ancients, and uses the syllogism ruthlessly and unwearyingly. From him one certainly learned to be accurate in theological expression, and to appreciate the connection of dogma with dogma. One also learned, by the example of his powerful analysis, how much more there may be in a theological formula than appears to the superficial observer. The perfect finish and magical lucidity of the Angelic Doctor came to be more and more felt and admired. And the art of clear and trenchant reply to objections and solution of difficulties was effectively imparted in his brilliant application of the scholastic method of distinguishing.
Had Abbot Bury kept up systematic study and a wider reading, I do not know what eminent service he could not have performed for the Church and for the science of divinity. It was partly owing to his nervous temperament that he more or less ceased to read after he was thirty. He used to be impatient of modern Non-Catholic metaphysical or religious thought, and said that he never met an idea that had not been anticipated or refuted by St. Thomas. But to the last, he loved to return to the studies of his youth and would discuss with all the power of his subtle and accurate mind and his prodigious memory the books and questions of the day, as far as they came in his way.
We are assembled here this morning to pay the last tribute of respect to the Rt. Rev. Abbot Bury, whom many of us have known so long and so well. And my Superior wishes me to say a few words on this sorrowful occasion.
The story of the late Abbot's life is soon told. As a boy he commenced his studies at Ampleforth late in the thirties of the last century. In 1843 he entered the novitiate. Two years later, being a youth of great promise and ability, he was sent to the Monastery of St. John, at Parma, there to study Philosophy and Theology under good masters. He threw himself into the work with characteristic ardour. So close and unremitting was his application to study, that his health was considerably impaired, hence it was not a bad thing for him that the revolution, which broke out in the north of Italy in 1848, compelled Superiors to recall him to England. He was raised to the Priesthood in 1850 and was appointed professor of Philosophy and Theology. He discharged the duties of that position with ability and success. And if, as the old Proverb says, the excellence of the master be the most powerful incentive to progress on the part of the disciple, it would have been surprising if those who were committed to his charge had failed to benefit by his skilful tuition.
In 1860, he was sent on the mission. He laboured for four years at Liverpool, and then was transferred to Hindley. At Hindley he re-organized the school and built the church. For this last work he collected monies in the north of England and in some parts of Ireland. In 1870, he was sent to Warrington. There too he built a church, which is the pride of the Catholics of the town and a credit to the Diocese in which it is situated. He built also and organized at least two large schools. During the latter part or his life at Warrington he was chosen Provincial of the Northern Province. His administration was characterized by alertness and vigour. And if, as Bishop Ullathorne would have it, spiritual progress easily goes hand in hand with financial good-management, his administration as Provincial must have been very satisfactory indeed. When he resigned the Provincialship he looked upon himself as a man marked out for an early death. None of his family, he constantly averred, ever lived to be old. In this however, as regards himself, he was deceived. He lived for ten years at Clayton Green, and afterwards for ten years more in retirement at Brownedge.
It is not difficult for one who had known him familiarly for well-nigh 60 years to trace the salient features of his character. In his prime he was conspicuous for intellectual ability; he was an intellectual giant. Conclusions, at which most men only arrive after a course of close patient thinking, were seen at a glance by him, with an intuition which was almost spiritual. But what surprised men of ordinary ability even more was his astonishing memory. At that time he could not only learn easily, and learn rapidly, and learn well, but he never seemed to forget anything that he had heard or read. His memory was a vast magazine well stored and well arranged. Everything was there and everything in its place. Did you want any information? It was not only there but ready; - it was taken down, unpacked, unfolded, displayed. And all this without any effort. A very warm friend - no one warmer - he was the uncompromising enemy of all that was deceitful and false. If truthfulness be the basis of excellence of character, then the character of the Rt. Rev. Father rested on a most secure foundation. With great ability, with great natural force of character, he combined a singularly upright heart. To him falsehood or dishonesty in any shape seemed utterly detestable. At the same time he had faults and imperfections which in the order of nature seem inseparable from these qualities and these gifts.
It is notorious that great changes have taken place in the Anglo-Benedictine Congregation. They were naturally preceded by discussions of great length and characterized by great warmth. The Abbot was in the thick of the fight. And during these events he displayed much of the strength of his character and something of its weekness. But, as St. Bernard suggests, when there is a contest for what seems just and right, is it not better to be stained with the blood and dust of the conflict than not to fight at all?
Some have expressed surprise that one so gifted should have led a life so hidden and so obscure. The observation is natural. The only reply one can make to it is, that Almighty God's ways are not man's ways. What Almighty God wishes for each one of us is the great and incomparable gift of Eternal Salvation. And if we will let Him, He will so ordinate our lives that this end may be gained. With this view, undoubtedly, He chose for the Right Rev. Father the kind of life which He chose for Himself during the greater part of His earthly career, - the kind of life which He chose for Our Lady and St. Joseph, - the kind of life which He always chooses for those whom He loves best, - a life of obscurity and labour.
Some perhaps who have only known the Right Rev. Father here at Brownedge, when broken with infirmity and age, may have been tempted at times to look upon him with indifference if not with disdain. Such persons should remember that life is not a straight road but a circle. Only follow the route long enough and far enough, and it will bring you to the point whence you started. In other words, the weakness and incapacity of childhood are reproduced in the weakness and incapacity of old age.
It is not difficult for one who was familiar with the late Abbot to point out the chief feature of his spiritual life. His dominant idea, his ruling thought was the constant remembrance of death. When assisting on Sundays at Brindle, after the day's work was done, he would almost invariably remark: 'Another Sunday gone! I wonder when the last will come.' Every day he would make the Stations of the Cross, to obtain, by the merits of Christ's passion and death, the grace of dying well. For this same intention he made daily, frequent and long visits to the Blessed Sacrament. When some fifteen days ago it was intimated to me that he wished especially to see me, I knew what that meant; it was prearranged. He wished to receive the last sacraments at my hands. He made a general confession with every expression of the deepest humility and contrition: and in spite of the feebleness of old age he insisted on kneeling to receive Extreme Unction, out of reverence for the sacrament. Through me he now delivers his last message to you, Right Rev. and Rev. Fathers. 'Miseremini mei, miseremini mei, saltem vos amici mei.' 'Have pity on me, you at least my friends, have pity on me. Pray for me. Remember me especially during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Ask our Lord graciously to overlook my sins and imperfections, and to reward me for the little that I have done and suffered, however unworthily, in His service.' Let us listen to and grant this humble and pious and reasonable request. Then when our time comes (and with some of us that time cannot be far distant) we may hope that some good friends will kindly do the same good office for us.
Thomas Austin BURY 10 January 1904 1827 21 Mar Born at Liverpool educ at Ampleforth 1843 14 Aug Clothed 1844 28 Aug Professed 1845-48 Studied in Italy 1850 21 Dec Priest 1860 St Mary's Liverpool 1864 Hindley 1870 St Alban's Warrington 1877 St Mary's Warrington 1882 Clayton Green 1894 Brownedge 1904 10 Jan died 1878-85 Provincial of York 1883 Cathedral Prior of Canterbury Abbot without title 1888 Abbot of Evesham