St Vincent Seminary - Symposium Yearbook (Latrobe, PA)

Page 68 text:

Ulllllllllllli , Y 1 ' i ' i gfmzmiaifaa v wi Q f , ,,, ' A A ' .... H E-i--2 i i ill i- he thought, he could seek retirement from the distracting mul- titudes of the world. But this he could never do. He was repeat- , ,511 edly called upon to exercise his creative genius in behalf of the ffl all Catholic Church. if' His keen insight into human nature, his broad learning and 'fff his contagious desire to engage in educational work was long '55 recognized by the Holy See. Hence he was invited to become the ' j' Rector of the Catholic University which struggling Catholics i - V. were endeavoring to found in Ireland. He hesitated long, for he never underestimated the difficulties of such an enterprise. W But at length, persuaded that the Pope had fostered the project, if he yielded. Peter had spoken, and, ever loyal to him, he under- 'E ' took this great task. From the very beginningthe project seemed jf' foredoomed to failure, and its failure was made the occasion for I+ .1 heaping new insults upon the only man who could have ever - - V made it a success. But even in the face of this discouragement, 'A l for seven years, during which period no phase of his work was V-l31fafgf,f - - vi? 1.1.- his indomitable spirit refused to be defeated. He struggled along f Q . too mean or too trivial to command his attention. He journeyed V4 through all Ireland endeavoring to inspire the people with enthusiasm for the proposed University, but in the end, his efforts proved fruitless, and when at length he found the task insuperable, he returned to Birmingham to begin that period gl ff, of his life which was, in many respects, the saddest he ever knew. fi It seemed to be God's will that he should take part in a whole succession of schemes, which, like the foregoing, were to end in if disillusionment and failure. Shortly after returning from Eng- 'fi .5 land, he was induced by Cardinal Wiseman to undertake the editorship of a new English version of the Scriptures. Newman P if welcomed the proposal and set to work with that studiousness 7 which characterized all his work. He enlisted contributors and , E threw himself into the work with all his old enthusiasm. But it l l was all useless. Booksellers with large stocks of the Douay Ver- A gl sion began to protest. Cardinal Wiseman finally dropped the matter and Newman had one more humiliating failure to add to , v his life. He was now an old man, sixty-three years of age. The future, how sterile and hopeless it appeared to him now, a few years of , insignificance and silence, and then the grave. But God never l j abandons those whom He loves. In the midst of his sadness there ' occurred an event that rekindled the fire of his soul and re- . established him forever in the heart of England. Charles Kings- I ley, a distinguished English Divine, attacked his good faith and , i A. 4' if 1 5 Qi:'aR,:L3,3-f53751rC2 1 . 'um H Q ... , , i ' ' ' 'u Il ir l65l

Page 67 text:

Illllllllllllla gllls Ellllllg alll: Slllllllllllllk ui. I ' -llll I- 3 I1 3 7 77 7 t 7 . . . . , . ' - n ! Y f ' ' . . tion. But wherever that voice summoned him he went' to the 7 . r 7 Y ? S - u mums. 5 1 g 'f E 'mumnm' of St. Mary s charming the multitudes of eager students who came to seek peace under the wondrous spell of this inspired prophet of the Most High. Thus came the awful pause which fell on Oxford when that voice had ceased and we knew we should hear it no more. For Oxford he had forever ceased to speak. In the meantime Newman retired to Littlemore, a dreary little v1llage just outside of Oxford. Here, with a mere handful of faithful followers he led a life of prayer and study. What heartaches his sens1t1ve soul now suffered, in rejection and aban- donment by those he so deeply loved, is a story, a tale of anguish of which the world knows little. Picture him seated at his desk, among his books, his sole source of consolation in these hours of great trial. Here he probed the annals of the past searching and praying for that light which by degrees appeared upon the horizon, revealing the broad high- ways that lead to life and truth. Every advance in his studies brought him nearer to the truth, daily strengthening the growing conviction which reason accepted but heart rejected, that he must leave the Church of England, the very soul of his life. But through it all he never faltered. Courageously he struggled on guided by principle until conviction swept him from his last Anglican mooring and brought him, one rainy night in October 1845 into the bosom of the true Church H The news of Newman s conversion rekindled the dying embers of animosity The land was Hooded with denunciations of the man who alone succeeded in awakening the Established Church from her age-old self-complacency. But Newman never flinched He obeyed the voice of duty without question, unselfishly giving whatever it demanded Sometimes it spoke to him from -the pages of some forgotten textg sometimes from the unbroken silence of the sickroom' sometimes during moments of medita- ministry to the forefront of a great cause, to Littlemore and its loneliness or to the great Renunciation. Now, too, the voice called him and though the storm of denunciation was great, it never for a moment deterred him from the truth as he saw it He preferred to drink the cup of sorrow to its last dregs rather than to compromise the truth as he saw it The year following his conversion he went to Rome. Two years later now a priest of the Roman Catholic Church, he returned to England determined to lead a life of retirement. All his life he craved solltude now was the time for its realization. At last S2 ll54ll Ellllllff glllllllllllli J L .- 11 r ! 7 0 . 7 7 . . ! 9 . . . . . . - ! v i . - 2 -

Page 69 text:

.11 -,I 115715 I W ll ls. ,a, .'1ig,:1j5, fjfgf 'Iwi .JATT1 ICSW!! 5.1 . the good faith of Catholics in general in a magazine article Newman protested and Kingsley rejoined in an irate pamphlet Newman s reply was the Apologia a br1ll1ant controversial work in which he lay bare the lnnermost secrets of his sensitive soul. He shrunk from this task with that horror which one always feels in making personal disclosures' but the time came when he could not longer resist the voice of duty. Then it was that he penned that famous work which has since become a classic. Shortly after this period, now no longer an object of suspicion, within or without the Church, he felt himself in a position to carry out one of the cherished dreams of his life. This was to found a Church at Oxford University for the benefit of Catholic undergraduates. But this dream, like all those which had pre- ceded, was in the end frustrated, and thus came another defeat. These repeated disappointments were almost too much for . 5 L W. .lu llll u - Ye . llg . lj . 1 W1 M -U ' 3 2 -- - ., H. ,,.. v, . ., 1 . ,w...,...,,. . . in -Nm ., .I X .. - ef.- l-.. M i 1f.1..fa1-ffmillla .1 1,1 . fl , Hllljll 5:71 'V -,V N - Y f ' I . ,al . If '1 gil 0 t 0 O I 1 I . 0 I I I I , , . ! . . 1 I , u . . I r 5 . . . . . . . . 7 ! I . . . . S I Hllll Hills 2 - ' Ill ' I E . illlllllllllll' him. He now resolved to retire from public life and resign him- self to the preparation for his last great journey. He would devote must prepare himself for death which seemed so near. So he re- solvedg but in that resolution he had not reckoned with the Almighty, who again called him to the defense of the Church in 1870. In that year he wrote his famous Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, an exposition of the doctrine of infallibility so ration- ally and clearly explained that it immediately dissipated the English prejudices concerning that prerogative of the Pope Here one cannot but help recall how frequently his creative genius engaged him in controversy, but never, in all the years of his life, save but once, did he employ his talents for the mere pleasure of conquest. His interests and his pursuits in life lay in fields far removed from the din of battle and the clash of combat With but one exception he engaged in controversy -for a cause removed from his own personal interests. Duty was ever the clarion call that drew him from his cloistered seclusion and per- suaded h1m to don the armor and engage in battle against the enemies of the Church. Always he fought for truth as he saw it bringing to its defense all the diverse powers of his intellect. The joy and the peace of his declining days were clouded by the unexpected death of Ambrose St. john, his bosom friend and fellow Oratorian. For thirty-two years they had traveled through life together sharing alike its joys and sorrows. No small wonder then that Newman's spirits sank to the depths of anguish in the loss of this angel guardian whom God had sent him when all other had failed him. With his death Newman l66ll lllillllllllllg Elllg gllllllg alll! Hllillllllllll himself to the ordinary ,tasks of the oratory, but above all he