Obituary - Fr Cuthbert Hedley 1915

Many will be the memories evoked of the late Bishop of Newport as those who knew him look back over the long years of his very full life. My own more intimate acquaintance with him began when in 1897 I was called to attend the meetings of the Bishops. I had indeed had the opportunity of one or two long conversations with him, notably on the occasion of his visit to St Edmund's College in 1893, when I consulted him on certain points affecting the education of ecclesiastical students which arose out of the sermon he then preached on the spirit of St Edmund. The closer intercourse that grew up between us as brother Bishops deepened as the years went on, and became doubly precious when helped by his kindly confidence, - more, perhaps, than by any other human influence, - came to bear the burden of the Metropolitan See. During the many years since then, he was, each year I think without exception, my ever welcome guest during the Low Week Meeting, and on many other occasions as well. I could also rely upon his kind but outspoken counsel: he was ever ready to aid me by any assistance in his power: his presence was a source of strength, and in many an anxious moment his timely word removed a difficulty or opened out a safe and easily accepted course. A true friend, a loyal helper has been taken from us, and it will not be easy to find another with gifts like his which made that affectionate loyalty so precious. May he in God's sight still help and guide us.

It is remarkable that in almost every notice, appreciation even every sermon, treating of Bishop Hedley, reference has been made to Ampleforth and his devotion to it - 'the Ampleforth he loved so well,' the 'Alma Mater to which he was always so devoted.' It is remarkable as coming from outsiders, who, naturally, would not be supposed to notice that side of his character. Bishop Hedley was not a man who wore his heart on his sleeve. He was the last to make any parade of such feelings. He was a man of singularly wide outlook and broad sympathies. Those who have heard his speeches and lectures and sermons at Downside, at Douai, or Ushaw, or Oscott, will search them in vain for any, even the remotest, reference to his own Alma Mater, and so deep was his interest in, so warm his appreciation of genuine effort, wherever found, that they might be pardoned if on occasion they imagined that he rather identified himself with their respective institutions. Even among Amplefordians he was singularly reticent on this point which strangers seem to have noticed. We question whether any of them, dead or living, ever heard him say he loved Ampleforth. That he did so we never doubted, but who ever heard him say so? Interested he was always in all that concerned her, eager to hear all about her, willing to listen to the smallest details in anything that affected her welfare, but never effusive himself. Even at the annual meetings, the family gatherings, where filial devotion and youthful enthusiasm may, without any fear of offence to others, lawfully run riot, even here he was almost restrained in his language.'To praise is useless, to flatter is disagreeable' he once said, and certainly deviated from the maxim.

But still the fact remains that what Amplefordians might themselves have overlooked has been universally observed and noted by strangers. Needless to say it is very gratifying to us thus to have his identity with us recognised without our being obliged to claim it. We have always loved him, we have always been proud of him, but since his name and fame have become the possession of the universal church we have perhaps been diffident in asserting those claims. It is all the more pleasing then to us when kind friends recognise that Bishop Hedley was after all a typical Laurentian, that he belonged to us and loved his Alma Mater, and that some of the light of his renown is reflected on her hallowed walls, that like the sun in the glory of its setting

Hence we are moved to reproduce in the Journal some of his more notable utterances regarding Ampleforth. It is obvious that we can only offer a very small selection. A connection which began in the forties of last century and has only just ceased embraces nearly seventy years. When we remember that his first public utterance was when he read his own poem at the Jubilee of 1852, that he composed the Ode, our unrivalled private classic, for the Opening of 1861, and that from then onwards till 1913 he only missed at most two 'Exhibitions' and that at each for the last forty years he was called upon to speak, and when we add the Silver Jubilee and other celebrations which he graced with his eloquence, and remember his articles in nearly every volume of the Journal, we shall see how impossible it would be to give a representative selection within the limits of one number. We have chosen the Ode because though it is familiar to all Laurentians they will welcome a reproduction of the full text. It still holds its place as our local anthem and, if we may judge by the past, bids fair to remain such for many years to come. In the three Addresses the immediate reference is to Ampleforth and to various phases of its fortunes. We make no apology indeed for that; were their interest wholly local this Journal would still be their proper shrine. But we believe too that those who are less intimately acquainted with Ampleforth, who will perhaps not understand the Bishop's allusions to our history, will nevertheless read with interest the criticisms and warnings he uttered, and the ideals he suggested for the life of a monastic house and for the conduct of a Catholic School. Perhaps, too, they will not wholly fail to share our interest in his own words what the Bishop thought of Ampleforth, what he thought he owed to it, and, in part, what Ampleforth owes to him.

The Address on the occasion of the Silver jubilee of the College in 1886 has never appeared in the Journal. It was published in Merrie England magazine in 1887, and as that is out of print, it is inacessible to our readers. It was delivered at a time of stress, when counsels were divided and prospects were not bright. The Bishop never did Ampleforth a better service than when he stood chivalrously by her side in that dark hour and boldly proclaimed his confidence in her. 'I honestly confess that unless I had some satisfaction in the thought of the position in which my monastery stands at this moment, I should not have been here today.' The Address at the Centenary Celebrations, nearly twenty years later, is a fitting complement to this, and both together are a worthy profession of Faith, of Love, and of Hope, in the House to which he was so devotedly attached. His analysis of the qualities which he conceived to be most characteristic of Amplefordians, and particularly of the men who in troublesome times laid the foundations of her fortunes, 'Tenacity, Sincerity and Hard work' is valuable as coming from such a source. Some may be tempted to trace in his own character the influence of these qualities, and they should be a watchword, a source of inspiration for ages to come, to all who, like himself have at heart the interests of their Mother House. Very significant too is his reminder, repeated more than once, that 'St Lawrence's had generally to depend - too much, perhaps - upon herself'; and his warning to remember where her powers lie and 'beware of depending chiefly on anything but her own fibre and muscle.'

The third Address was delivered in July 1912, at the celebration of the jubilee of the opening of the main School buildings, and was printed in the jubilee Number of Journal. That was a very few years ago, but we would not omit this chance of giving further publicity to such a description of the fundamental qualities of true education. We cannot refrain from pointing out one or two characteristics of these Addresses. In the first place they are utterances of one who had lived the life of the place, who understood and loved its traditions, and who was intimately associated with its history. To him its very walls and their environment were something hallowed and something very dear which spoke of happy days and of early years of strenuous labour and devotion. 'Our sweet vale,' 'the gentle brook,' ' the purple moors from yonder west,' he ever carried with him a mental picture of them all, of their history and of its meaning. He noted with affectionate regard the smallest details, which were associated with memories of the past. 'We are what the past has made us. As you wander through this house, and round these terraces and woods, you can trace the works of your fathers, the stones they have laid, the roofs they have reared, the paths their hands have shaped,' ' the walls where their faces may be seen,' 'the cemetery on the hill where many have left their mortal remains.' Nothing escapes him, he is alive to minutest details. He had entered fully into the life and he forgets nothing.

Another is the affectionate reverence he always shows to those who have gone before and his generous recognition of the debt he owes to them. No one was less of a blind laudator temporis acti than the Bishop and no one was so alive to the needs of altered conditions or had less patience with 'methods that are antiquated and ways that are easy.' But that did not prevent him recognising that there would have been no Ampleforth of the present if there had not been one of the past, built up with much labour and many hardships and sacrifices. This breathes from almost every sentence in these Addresses. 'You cannot see, unless you solemnly reflect, the share they had under God in making you what you are.' 'There are some who have shortened their lives to serve this house and family whose holiness and sacrifice are the very foundations of your success, and the pillars of our divine protection.' 'The good Priors of the olden time were figures that I like to think about.' How he loved to linger over such pictures and point out 'how softening and sanctifying are the memories of the past.'

Feelings as strong as these could not be hidden, and it is after all not to be wondered that even strangers discovered them. As for us, who always loved him and revered him, we feel that, great Bishop, powerful preacher, world-renowned writer as he was, separated from us by fifty years of time and by the whole length of England, Ampleforth lost her truest friend, her most devoted and most loyal son when John Cuthbert Hedley passed away to his fathers and left us all the poorer for his passing.

It was a day of gloom and general sadness when F. Cuthbert Hedley left Ampleforth for Belmont in November, 1862,and the lamentation of the School at least was loud and sincere. He had only just become prefect. As sub-prefect for some years under F. Wilfrid Brown he was a great favourite with the boys, justly popular for his kindly care of us youngsters, for musical and dramatic gifts which we could appreciate and for other talents that we took on faith, not least for the thrilling tales he told us in the 'ring' round the 'flue' on winter evenings. No doubt this popularity was enhanced by contrast with the stern aspect and severe discipline of the prefect. B. Cuthbert could be severe when needful and chastise roughly. The writer recalls being put in the corner with a smart box on the ear for refusing to eat some rice pudding which reeked, as he had unwisely remarked, of tallow! But the sub-prefect was affectionate in his manner towards the small boys, was interested in their studies and welfare; we enjoyed his banter, and loved the choir practices or the preparation for his plays and operettas. I could still recite, or even sing, long extracts from 'The Forty Thieves,' a musical revue with topical allusions and swinging choruses (though without a ballet) in which the rank and file of altos and trebles composed the chorus of Robbers, whilst the solo parts were distinguished players as John Pippet, Joe Watmore or Thomas Burge. We were all very proud of B. Cuthbert. Hadn't he composed those devotional canticles which decorated the Feasts as they came round in church? Hadn't he written those wonderful operettas in which we took an enthusiastic part, - humble beginnings of a series of musical dramas that distinguished our College stage, and, as we fondly imagined, were later imitated by the music halls? Wasn't he our Poet Laureate too? The Ode to Alma Mater, first sung so enthusiastically at the opening of the New College, has been a kind of local 'national anthem' eversince. Imagine then the undisguised delight of those who had groaned under the iron yoke of Fr. Wilfrid when returning one autumn we found B. Cuthbert installed in his place. A short-lived happiness, alack! After a few weeks he was selected for Belmont - a new name of strange portent! and we fell back again, possibly to our great benefit, beneath the Spartan discipline of the former prefect.

Ampleforth's loss was Belmont's gain! It was a providential choice that called the young priest to the wider field and ampler prospects of the House of Studies where his diligence and rare talents profited by fuller opportunities for serious reading. Within a few years the present writer came again under F. Cuthbert's influence. 1865 marked a new epoch at Belmont, for Prior Bede Vaughan, youthful and enthusiastic himself, was at last able to realise his ideas with a new novice master, a new novitiate-quarter and a round dozen of fervent novices easily kindled by the prospects of a new era. The novice master, F. Anselm Gillett, was a devoted admirer of the Prior, prepared to enter into his views to the fullest; but being in delicate health and somewhat diffident of his powers, Canon Hedley was given him as a helpmate. It fell to the latter, then, together with the Prior, to give the novices frequent conferences; he wrote for us useful tractates on the Vows, Religious Perfection, Plain Chant, &c.; he was our companion on the long walks through the countryside which in those graver days were a monk's sole or chief relaxation. How we talked and theorised on these occasions, of history, antiquities, philosophy, politics as well as less solemn themes; and the influence of our leader's mature, instructed mind was most helpful, bringing out and developing tastes, kindling interests, correcting extravagance or eccentricity. It wasn't always a joy to be among F. Cuthbert's special companions on these walks, for he could be silent sometimes and brusque and would indulge at our expense in banter and a caustic wit; but he was never really unkind; we learnt not to be super-sensitive, and to give and take in equal converse, for he liked people to hold their own views and argue with him freely.

Our enthusiasm for both religious and literary subjects grew apace and took other direction when, the novitiate safely passed, we came to the study of philosophy and theology. Of the latter Canon Hedley was professor, as he was choir master and organist also, as well as prefect of the Seminarists, for whom he used to write little Latin plays. His influence in the community ever made for culture and ecclesiastical tastes, not always without opposition, though always with the Prior's full approval. To the survivors of that fortunate generation the names of the Liber Albus, the Glee Club, even the Belmont Punch will recall memories, songs or poesy, sometimes the reverse of grave, but at least suggesting the variety of Canon Hedley's interests!

The circumstances of the time were very stimulating to enthusiastic minds at a susceptible age. They were years of strenuous controversy in Catholic circles directly leading up to the Vatican Council; and Belmont had its own literary atmosphere of a modest kind. Traditions in the Congregation had not been favourable to literary efforts; that any one should write for the press was a portent such as no reader of the Ampleforth Journal can possibly conceive. A favourite story of Father Romuald Woods illustrates the situation. He had once sent a few lines to a Catholic periodical describing a tea-party in the village schoolroom, and when the paper was due he went to the Prior's room to see if the paragraph had appeared. 'I wonder who wrote that,' remarked the Prior, after reading it through. 'I did,' shyly answered the budding author. ' Did you really,' was the surprised reply, 'did you really? It reads all right.' But at Belmont Prior Vaughan had published some pamphlets on University education, or against it, which made some little stir. F.Cuthbert wrote some slight papers for the Catholic Workman (a long defunct magazine familiarly known as the Catholic Dustman); and about this time he began that wonderful series of Patristic essays in the Dublin Review that first brought his gifts into general notice. The Dublin articles when read in the refectory formed subject of discussion, of admiration, some times of criticism in the calefactory or class-rooms. Origen was regarded by the professor of history as a heretic banned by General Councils, and his brother professor's views on such subject were suspected to be slightly unsound and 'liberal!'

It was my lot to continue longer than others under Canon Hedley's influence and teaching, and to find in them a substitute for the University course at Rome or Louvain that dangled unrealized for years before one's youthful ambition. As time went by one grew to closer intimacy with him in hours of recreation or of work. I became his sub-prefect in the Little Seminary, and frequently his companion in the long rambles through Herefordshire lanes that he always enjoyed. On the Prior's promotion to the episcopate in 1873 Canon Hedley was the popular, but unsuccessful, candidate for the Cathedral-priorship; and I can remember as though but yesterday our walk to a Dinedor picnic with the small boys a few months afterwards when he first told me of his own appointment as Auxiliary to Bishop Brown.

In chronicling Canon Hedley's influence at Belmont allowance will no doubt be made for one who was said to have copied all the Bishop's failings and none of his virtues; yet the following summary of his life during these years will be endorsed, I fancy, by other's experience as well. A deeply read and original thinker himself F. Cuthbert was a stimulating professor to others, interested in his class individually, ready to discuss points with them freely, always at their service, though perhaps a little too chary of the encouragement of praise. He was an inspiring example of literary toil and achievement, as well as of the employment of natural gifts exclusively in the Church's service. An edifying and observant member of the community, reverent of authority, cheerful in recreation, he was moreover a sympathetic and intelligent director who held up very high ideals of religious life, yet could be tolerant of youthful weakness or indiscretion. To the young he was ever a kindly friend and counsellor, ready to listen though quick to comprehend, somewhat undemonstrative, never expansive, but with judgment and sympathy on which we could confidently count. These Belmont years were for him full of fruitful toil and rich in reward; they led up directly to the attainment of his own high vocation; and they laid the foundation, among several generations of juniors, of that reverent affection and enduring gratitude which was felt by all who came under his care.

When on St Martin's Day Bishop Hedley died, full of years and merits, there passed away the latest of the great monk-bishops, of whom the 'Wonder-worker of Gaul' was one of the earliest; and the Non recuso laborem of the Saint might well serve as label for the Bishop's whole life, as indeed it occurs in the last letter which he wrote on the morning of his death. Strenuousness, indefatigable toil with sweat of brain if not of brow marked Bishop Hedley's career. He never shirked work. The talents that the Lord had lent him were not buried, but put out to interest in the Church's service; yet was it rather his industry in their employment that most of all impressed one who has sympathetically followed his career for over half a century.

The Bishop's great gifts, or many of them, are generally recognized. His bright and lucid style, ever a pleasure to follow, reflected a poetic mind well-stored by wide reading and a retentive memory. The silent studious days at Ampleforth were of great profit to him, and the fruitful years of Belmont and his early episcopate. He wrote rapidly and apparently with ease, the result of early diligence and constant exercise; if voracious he was not a shallow reader, for to extensive study he joined a very sane judgment as well as much originality of thought, or at least a fresh presentment of ancient wisdom that seemed both original and fascinating. Perhaps his special gift was a power of lucid exposition of deep and difficult themes which he could wonderfully illustrate by apt phrases and poetic imagery; for he possessed a poet's vivid imagination, in which the ingots of his lore, theological, mystical, historical, were fused as in a crucible to flow forth again luminous and living, brilliant yet substantial. Though in a very true sense a distinguished preacher Bishop Hedley was not a popular orator, his literary taste being too fastidious and his pulpit manner not sufficiently rhetorical for general acceptance. His delivery was often slow and halting; one could feel him following out a close train of thought and pausing for the precise phrase in which to express it; the hesitance annoyed those who prefer a careless fluency which accepts the first word that offers; but when it came the bishop's was the just word, illuminating and satisfying, and to thoughtful hearers the fitness of the phrase or the exquisitely turned figure more than compensated for the hesitation. It was better in later years when on state occasions the familiar manuscript relieved the strain on his memory and helped the flow of his well-chosen words; still the appeal of his style was too exclusively to the intelligence and not enough to the emotions for him ever to be popular with the crowd. His ideal of pulpit instruction was very high; to him a bishop's utterances were very sacred and responsible; he wrote and spoke like a Father of the Church, in the name of the Ecclesia docens, with an eye to wider audiences than ever gathered in any cathedral.

Regrets have been heard that Bishop Hedley has left no monumental work, that from a mind so well stored and a pen so graceful no magnum opus was produced of literature, theology or history. The loss is due to his episcopal office, for all his writings grew out of his daily duties, and had they been different the legacy of his writings might have been richer. Taken from a professor's chair and made bishop at a very early age, it was only at death that he laid down the pastoral staff and pen; he never found time for the research or exclusive study required for monumental work, and he was too conscientious a pastor to secure such leisure by neglecting more pressing duties. An exception should be made under this head for his Retreat probably the most finished work of his pen, and one truly monumental, representing as it does the results of a lifetime of meditation, of conference, of personal experience. The bishop himself regarded this as the quintessence of his thought on the spiritual life; and once gave that as his reason for never following it up by a supplemental volume. He had put into it the very best he knew and felt. Cardinal Vaughan, on its first appearance, wrote to him that it would do more for the conversion of England than anything that had been written since the Reformation.

Dr Hedley had considerable talent for music, both as executant and composer, though it was never cultivated except as a recreation or for its professional utility. As organist and choir-master at Ampleforth and Belmont he composed various motetts of some value, not to mention the Ode to Alma Mater; and even when Bishop he loved to play the organ in his cathedral church at Vespers or Compline. But he never used time or energy in developing such talents or suffered them to interfere with higher claims. It was the same with all his natural gifts. Cultivated and widely interested as he was in many subjects, with a keen outlook on literature and science, he was before all things a monk and churchman, whose predominant interests were ecclesiastical, who had neither hobbies nor tastes apart from his high vocation.

A gift of humour, sometimes a bit sardonic, lent a sparkle to Dr Hedley's conversation and a certain zest to his intercourse which, though a delight to his friends, was not infrequently a terror to strangers. A dangerous accomplishment in a bishop, for the latter could not make the same allowance as friends did for his origin and early training! The bishop inherited a certain northern directness or brusqueness, and had grown up in monastic communities where the give-and-take of fraternal intercourse is very free, where good-humoured banter is an ordinary form of recreation never misunderstood, and shared in by all, even superiors. In such surroundings the wit or pleasantry of a remark is usually justification enough for its utterance; no malice lurks in the sly jest of which the point, if sharp, is never poisoned. The victim bides his turn to score in the quick rapier-play, and all have learnt to take a cut without wincing and give one back without anger. The calefactory is neither common-room, nor club, still less a drawing-room; perhaps it is more like an arena! Brought up in such a manly school, the bishop, like others, may sometimes have forgotten his surroundings and have confused a drawing-room with the calefactory, or mistaken some sensitive layman or grave clergyman for the seasoned monk. It was a compliment had they only known it! But men used to the stiff courtesies of society were not so tolerant as his monastic brethren, and in earlier years the bishop earned in some quarters a repute for being boorish and disagreeable. He certainly did not suffer fools gladly, nor bores with uncomplaining patience. He employed banter to convey lessons more gently and effectively than by direct reproof, whilst pretentiousness and affectation were quite likely to be snubbed at his hands. Nor did he always realize how heavy was his hand or how hard it struck; shy spirits were overawed by teasing however kindly meant, and light jests dropping from episcopal heights occasionally hurt more than he suspected. He was a man of moods, too, silent at times or disinclined for converse, possibly preoccupied by cares or in later years by physical pain. Such asperities of character are a tribute to humanity which the best of men must pay. With age and self-discipline they were greatly softened; they were never inconsistent with genuine kindliness and the most ample charity, they never forfeited his friends' love or lessened his influence; and he has been known to make ample, even humble, amends to those whom he had unwittingly hurt. If Dr Hedley were in some respects an episcopal Dr Johnson, with ponderous wit and elephantine gambols, it should be said of him also that he had nothing of the bear but his skin!'

The lofty ideals of the Priesthood and Religious Life which the bishop's writings display were equally conspicuous in his own life; together with his repute for solid learning they justify the profound reverence in which he was regarded by both laity and clergy, and account for the deep influence he wielded on the spiritual thought of his day. In the simplicity of his tastes and habits, in unworldliness, in love of retirement, in freedom from ambition, he was always a monk. When in 1895 his diocese was divided in the supposed interests of religion he made no protest against a scheme which, as it was altered within three years, might at least be judged hasty and ill-considered. When the chance came to him on Cardinal Vaughan's death of succeeding to the archbishopric he declined it firmly and sincerely. He never talked about himself, his aims or his ailments, bearing with exemplary fortitude the grievous disability of his lameness, never showing resentment for the slights and injuries to which even bishops are occasionally exposed! Perhaps in some of these matters he set a standard too lofty for ordinary men; some thought him too slow to praise, and hardly ready enough to afford the encouragement which comes from a superior's judicious approval.

To conclude with what appears to us the most prominent characteristic of Bishop Hedley's life - his untiring industry. He was an indefatigable worker almost to the very end. Day by day he sat at his desk the long morning hours, and often late into the night, pen in hand, busy with correspondence which he never neglected, or preparing sermons, articles, pastorals, lectures. Work never made him inaccessible to his clergy, or less sympathetic in their troubles; he knew them well, was always at their service; and he dispensed to them the modest hospitality that one associates with bishops and monks. Almost the only holiday he took was an occasional visit to a friend's house, though the mornings even then were usually given over to writing. He never travelled for recreation or sightseeing, or visited Rome except when duty required it. In the early days of his episcopate, he himself held the annual religious examination of every school in his diocese, and almost to the last presided over the conferences of each deanery. Frequent requests to give retreats or to preach outside his diocese were seldom refused. For several years at Cardinal Manning's desire he edited the Dublin Review, maintaining the theological standard set by Dr Ward and raising its literary tone, contributing moreover to each number thoughtful and interesting articles on a great variety of subjects. With a small and well-organised diocese, where half the clergy are regulars, he was not overwhelmed by administration; consequently he had little use for a secretary, and for years dispensed with a vicar-general. He would never ask for an Auxiliary, even when failing under the infirmities of age, and the election for his Coadjutor took place two days before his own death! Independent, self-reliant, sure of his own judgment, the bishop never seemed to want either counsel or help, though he was glad of sympathy, particularly in later years, and grateful for intelligent appreciation from his friends. He was never one to share responsibility or delegate his powers; and with all his broad-mindedness and accessibility there was no more autocratically governed diocese than his in England. Altogether a strong man, an unwearied worker; a faithful servant set over the Lord's household to give them food in due season, - one of the line of strenuous monk-bishops whose spirit St Martin's dying word sums up as 'never shirking toil.'

I am at a loss to know to what I owe the honour, - for as such I very sincerely regard it, - of being invited to contribute some words on the late Bishop John Cuthbert Hedley to the pages of the Ampleforth Journal which have so often been enriched by articles of such value from his own gifted pen. But I have at least one qualification, - I fear only one, - for undertaking the task: I may safely claim that no one has cherished a deeper veneration, I will venture to say affection than myself for the great Bishop, the great Monk, and the great Scholar, by whose death the Catholic Church in Englaid is so immeasurably the poorer, and its Hierarchy has lost its chiefest ornament.

So much has already been spoken and written, and that excellently well, concerning Bishop Hedley, that almost any remarks I should have been tempted to set down would have been but little better than a repetition of what has been said by others.

The Editor invites me to send a few pages of appreciation of the late Bishop's literary work.

But, once more, to attempt to do so would be little more than rewriting the appreciations of others. As a tiny tribute, therefore, to his revered memory, I will but venture on one or two remarks concerning the impressions which have been left upon me by what I have known and read of this great son of Ampleforth.

It cannot be said that Bishop Hedley was homo unius libri, but at least he was a man of few books. I believe I am correct in saying that exactly seven volumes represent his entire literary output in book form, but each one of these occupies a notable, and in many respects a unique position in the library of modern Catholic literature. What priest but has found a new inspiration, a new outlook on the spiritual life, in Bishop Hedley's Retreat? Speaking for myself, I must say it came to me, when I first made acquaintance with it, as something of a spiritual revelation. And what a priceless gift not only to the students in our seminaries, but also to us priests, is that wonderful Lex Levitarum, that joint gift of the Benedictine Bishop and the great Benedictine Pope, St Gregory, on whom, as we have been so truly reminded, so much of the former's character and work seems unconsciously to have been formed! I have often envied those theological students of Ushaw, who, long years after my own College days, enjoyed the privilege of listening to the lectures given to them by the late Bishop as a commentary upon the Treatise of Gregory the Great, which now form the first portion of the volume I am referring to. The Holy Eucharist, one of the volumes of the admirable Westminster Library, has always appeared to me a perfectly ideal treatise whether for priest or layman, as a model of what a popular handbook in a series of this kind ought to be. By collecting in A Bishop and His Flock a large number of his pastoral letters, Dr Hedley has preserved for a far wider circle of the faithful many treasures of spiritual instruction that otherwise might have been limited to his own small diocesan flock.

But the Bishop's books by no means exhaust the tale of his literary activity. In some respects he has been best known by the very large number of articles of great scientific and literary value, contributed to many periodicals. Especially must his name be mentioned in connection with the Dublin Review. I do not know whether there be any complete list of his contributions to the historic Dublin, nor am I aware when he first wrote in its pages. But in January 1879, he himself began his career as Editor, in succession to Dr W.G. Ward, and, as I happen to know, opened the third series of the Review with the striking anonymous article 'Catholicism and Culture.' During his occupancy of the editorship, which lasted till October 1884, he doubtless wrote many of the articles, though, unlike most other contributors, anonymously. It was at this time that I first had the privilege of being brought into correspondence with the learned Bishop, as, from my acquaintance with Louvain, I was able to act as an intermediary between the Bishop-Editor and some of the Professors of that University in obtaining from them and translating articles for the Review, notably from Lamy, de Harlez and Alberdingk Thijm. At the end of 1884 he resigned the editorship, which was then assumed personally by Dr Herbert Vaughan, the proprietor of the Review, who, amidst the manifold activities connected with both his diocese and his missionary society, appointed me to act as what the French call 's'cretaire de r'daction,' and this brought me still further into correspondence with Dr Hedley. To this series and subsequent ones he was a fairly frequent contributor, as may be seen from the list of articles published in the Jubilee Number of the Review in April 1896.I am inclined to think that his last article in the Dublin pages was, appropriately enough, that on Bishop Hay in 1911.

I have no idea of the number of articles contributed by him to other reviews, especially Benedictine ones, but I presume it is fairly large. I should like to re-echo a hope that all these, or at least the more important ones, might be collected and published as soon as possible; and I should like also to propose that all those fine 'sermons d'occasion,' to which we have so often listened with delight, - sermons marking and illuminating certain great events or anniversaries in our ecclesiastical history, - might similarly be preserved in such collected form.

Fine as was the work of Bishop Hedley's pen, whether from the point of view of theological and philosophical erudition, of incisive diction, of literary style, or of spiritual unction, it had always a note of true humility. This was most noticeable whenever he had occasion to speak of any of his own compositions. He referred to them in a half deprecatory manner which almost seemed to say: 'I have been asked to write on this subject, and here it is, - you may take it for what it is worth.'

It is well known also that his wonderful sermons on great occasions often suffered, in spite of the fineness of their composition, by being read, and that in a somewhat off-hand style, which by no means did justice to the composition. Hence the frequent remark that his sermons read better than, they sounded: another reason, one would think, why they should be collected and re-published.

Apart from his literary gifts, there was one trait of Bishop Hedley's intellectual character which I have not seen noted elsewhere, but which has often impressed me very much. For over a dozen years it has been my privilege to sit with him at deliberative gatherings, whether at the various official meetings of the English Hierarchy, or on one or other board or commission. I have frequently noticed on these occasions how, after a subject had been apparently fully and exhaustively discussed and a conclusion was on the point of being arrived at, he would suddenly throw out quite a new objection, or introduce an entirely new point of view, - either reactionary or revolutionary it appeared, as the case might be, - which would seem likely to upset or greatly modify the decision about to be formulated. Fresh discussion would ensue, and then after a very short time, the Bishop would quietly withdraw his opposition. What was his motive? Simply I believe his extreme intellectual honesty in wishing that every question should be fairly looked at from every possible side, that every objection should be squarely faced and thought over, even though the view suggested or the objection stated should not by any means represent his own conviction. It seemed the method of a careful and conscientious judge, determined that every argument on both sides of a case should be duly stated and weighed in court. And no doubt the same method was pursued by him in his own study of any subject, theological, philosophical or historical.

Speaking of such discussions, I think just one word ought to be added of the good work he did in presiding over both the Universities Catholic Education Board and the Bishops Commission on Hymns. At the latter he worked hard, and he would come up to Westminster or elsewhere, laden with a small portmanteau packed with hymn-books and MSS. to be submitted to the wearisome process of discussion and criticism - often an ungrateful task, in which none was more patient than our long suffering Chairman.

Mark Twain has put on record his private conviction that 'the progress made in the great art of ship-building since Noah's time is quite noticeable.' If the great patriarch had kept a log of his voyage, we could with equal assurance have asserted our conviction that the progress made in the great art of journalism since Noah's time is also quite noticeable. Very likely the earliest diary or journal was one impressed, in the short-hand of the period, upon sun-baked bricks and published, to all concerned, the Imperial births and deaths; the great deeds of certain Eastern barbarians who were wishful to propagate their particular culture and to win a place in the sun; all the winners in the Autumn chariot-races and the day-by-day chronicle of some big-game sports man, like Nimrod: your mighty hunter has always liked to cut a brave figure in the public eye, and is rarely content with such meagre 'epitaphs' as the horns and skins and skulls that decorate the walls of his house. We do not, however, feel curious to learn who was the genius who first hit upon the notion of posting up his daily doings. Like all things under the sun, the art of diary-keeping or journal-making began life young, and since then has made progress noticeable enough for us, who live in an advanced age, to think of its first essays as curious and amusing - like a child's first clumsy attempts to stand on its legs. Even in our small corner of the world, now that we have a full-fledged, up-to-date Magazine of our own, we, Laurentians, cannot turn over the pages of older Laurentian diaries and journals - not even *** or Tbe Student - without a smile.

Sometime in the early months of 1895 Bishop Hedley sent word to Prior Burge that he purposed coming up to Ampleforth to discuss whether it was not now time to 'break-out' - a favourite phrase of his - and start a new adventure, the publishing of a superior front-rank Ampleforth Magazine. A College Diary had been coming out half-yearly; - a sturdy fast-growing youngster of good metal and excellent promise, who seemed to need little more than a change of dress and a better conceit of himself to play the part of a man. The good Bishop brought with him a very clear conception of what he wanted. We, who sat in council with him, presented ourselves with no defined clear-cut scheme of our own, and were very properly disposed to listen to his Lordship's proposals, accept them, and carry them out as well and fully as seemed possible or desirable under existing circumstances. Undoubtedly, we had a sentimental affection for the Diary, and, left to ourselves, might have continued it, desiring no more than to improve it out of all knowledge - re-christening it, perhaps; re-modelling its format; and giving the literary and artistic portion of it undisputed pride of place. The Bishop, however, had planned to do away with it altogether. He admitted that the Diary had become a good thing - very well indeed in its way; but we ought, he said, to be able, among us, to bring out a Magazine which would have a value of its own apart from its connection with the College, which would appeal to a wider public, and be worth reading and preserving wholly because of its literary and artistic merit. He was prepared to admit in it an editorial retrospect of Laurentian doings; school notes, mission notes, personal notes were desirable - in some such form as the Odds and Ends of the Downside Review; we could not have too many such 'Notes'; but he did not desire the proposed magazine to be scholastic in any direct form or intent. However, for the sake of retaining the interest of the boys and their friends, and of encouraging literary aspirations in the school, he agreed to include a College Diary - as an adjunct. Afterwards he remarked that Ampleforth would do well to keep up the devotion to English literature which had distinguished it in older days. One of the most valuable assets a boy could bring away with him from College was what his old tutor and director in English (Fr Aidan Hickey) used to speak of as 'a literary conscience.'

It was his Lordship himself who proposed that the Magazine should be named The Ampleforth Journal. The word 'Journal,' he said, fitted in with its origin as a development of the Diary and the retention of it in its pages; also, the word included the concept of a store of essays on subjects of the day, on local historic places, on art work, and on literary criticism - the sort of matter dealt with by journalists. It could not be thought misleading even if we dropped into poetry at times. Then, after talk of subjects and contributors, an editor and financial manager were chosen, and it was resolved that the first number of the Ampleforth Journal should make its bow to the public at the following Midsummer Exhibition. It was also decided that it should be issued thrice a year, each number making punctual appearance at the end of the term. In his original scheme Bishop Hedley had planned a quarterly issue; but, as he admitted, it is not easy to distribute, without partiality, four bites among three apples.

To the editor the Bishop afterwards gave some personal advice. Speaking of the format to be adopted, he said: 'I leave that entirely with you; do as you think best; choose good paper, good type and a fair-sized page but - here he was emphatic - don't copy anything; an imitation makes a present of half its merit to the original copied.' Next, he said: 'Don't let the Journal be parochial; to be parochial means to be little and insignificant, even if it brings you a cheap popularity.' Lastly, he said, 'Above all avoid self-laudation as far as possible; a little of it is unavoidable; as a rule self-praise is the commonest and ugliest fault of a College Magazine; any excess of it is never less than bad taste; it is my opinion that the Journal will help the College better by its high standing and value than by making it a show-window for our goods.'

These are not the Bishop's exact words. So much was said, and the side-issues discussed were so many, and the meeting took place so long ago, that the writer can only profess to have given a faithful version of the impression - a very vivid one - retained in his memory. The meeting was an event which not only was of interest to him, but greatly influenced his after-life. Naturally, he is best sure of his memory when reporting his Lordship's warnings to the editor: they were spoken directly to himself. He believes that, in the main, he has reproduced them very exactly, both in emphasis and expression.

When the Journal stood on its legs, our good Bishop was ever readier with help and encouragement than with criticism. Not once, to our recollection, did he repeat his caution about the evil of self-laudation; though we have heard him reprobate an instance furnished by another Magazine. He said nothing further about parochialism, except to write, on occasion, of the want in the Journal of more literary papers and of a wider range of subjects. Once he characterised a certain report of a football match as 'slangy,' but when the editor answered to the effect that football, like all sciences, had a patter of its own, and that the boy-reporter was only copying rather crudely the mannerisms of classic authorities on that subject, he let the matter drop. He rarely commented on the school section of the Journal. Not that we supposed him displeased with it or no heed of it - we believe he read each number from the first line to last and, for the most part, with pleasure - but did not expect from boys more than they could give him, knew their ways, and was big-minded enough to sympathise with their candid unadorned directness of speech, when telling of their victories or making excuse for their ill-success. He was gentle in his criticism of undeserved failure. Just as he sat out with kindly patience, and his invariable smile of encouragement, the tragic dulness and farcical tragedy of many a dramatic representation on our stage, he passed over much in the Journal that we feared would bring a letter of strident reproach for our editorial amiability in admitting it. Most often he kindly volunteered advice how we might have amended or improved such articles, and only rarely did he show that impatience with incompetence and intolerance of foolishness which he was himself humbly conscious of, yet could not always keep under control. Once he condemned an article utterly and abusively; but it had been sent in by a contributor who, most certainly, had the ability and should have had the good sense to do better. Even then he tempered the storm to the editor by the manner of its coming; it came as an explosion of literary fireworks, which he knew would give more amusement than pain. At no time during the twenty years will the Journal have realised his hopes. A few numbers he marked as 'excellent' (many of them were 'good' and the rest 'fair' or 'moderate' but in the best of them he found matter for criticism. Very likely he never really expected much more from us than we found ourselves able to give him. Perhaps, if the Journal had been more perfect he would have liked it less. His fondness of it was that of a parent, very conscious of the imperfections of his offspring, but feeling all the more drawn towards it because of them. Anyway, he never tired of it. From first to last, for better and for worse. he was its staunch friend.

The good Bishop made a solemn promise to its first editor: 'Ever time you ask me I will always write for the Journal.' He kept this rather big promise faithfully. The editor asked often - at first, for nearly every number - and was never directly refused. A grumbling letter was received by him in answer to a timid desire for copy - it was dictated by an attack of gout - but his anxiety was relieved by a postcard received a few days later, saying: 'Will send you an article (about 10 pages). How long can you give me? Best wishes. - + J.C.H.' Most often his Lordship did not wait to be asked. A letter came about the middle of the Term - only an editor can know how welcome was the sight of the handwriting - asking news of the next number 'Who are writing for it? Have you plenty of illustrations? See that it is out in good time, &c., &c.,' with perhaps a word or two of advice and the glad news, 'I have an article nearly ready for you.' Oftentimes the editor wondered if he ought not to ask the Bishop to take the Journal into his own hands and offer to do service under him as assistant. Only the knowledge that his Lordship had been compelled reluctantly to resign the editorship of the Dublin Review deterred him. He once heard Bishop Hedley say that the happiest time of his life was when he was bringing out the Dublin Review. He added the unexpected words: 'I believe I am better qualified to be an editor than a bishop.' He was an admirable editor, no doubt; but he was a great Bishop.

[Unsigned letter AJ59 (1954) 195] Ampleforth Journal June Number 1954, pages 96 and 97 'He' (Fr Paul) '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... Bishop Hedley, Sir Mark Sykes and others were persuaded to contribute.' The Journal was inaugurated 1895 by Bishop Hedley�s enterprise during the time of Prior Burge�s term of office. (See Life of Bishop Hedley by J. Anselm Wilson, pages 32, 33, and 35.) To quote but two sentences from this book. 'He' (Bishop Hedley) 'promised the editor that he would write an article for the Journal whenever he was asked � a promise that he faithfully kept. At first, this meant an article for nearly every number.' Bishop Hedley died November 1915. He wrote, I am informed, thirty-five articles for the Journal during the first twenty years of its publication.

CUTHBERT HEDLEY

Details from the Abbey Necrology