The Sun.
London, England, 1868-04-01 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY EVENING, APRIL 1, 1868

THE CHARTER FOR THE CATHOLIC
UNIVERSITY.

The clerical leaders of the Orange ascend-
ancy faction in Ireland have unconsciously
undertaken to demonstrate both the failure of
the mixed system of education in the sister
kingdom, and the folly of the Government in
having so long refused a charter to the Catholic
University. We are old enough to remember
when Lord Derby, then Lord Stanley, intro-
duced into Ireland a system of education which
was to be administered by a board so consti-
tuted as to serve for an example of the fraternal
relations whichwere henceforth to spring up be-
tween the children of Orangemen and Ribbon-
men, Catholics, Protestants, and Presbyterians,
all educated in the same school. The attempt
was a noble one, and was honestly undertaken
by the then noble Secretary for Ireland. But
it failed utterly ; and one cause of its failure
is so little creditable to the memory of the
late Archbishop Whately, that had the account
of it reached us through any less trustworthy
channel than his grace's daughter, we should
not have given credit to it. All Catholic con-
fidence was destroyed when it was discovered
that a member of the board, and a Privy Coun-
cillor, was capable of the duplicity of feigning
the utmost respect for the religious convictions
of Catholics, and of outwardly manifesting the
warmest friendship for his colleague at the
board, the Most Rev. Archbishop Murray, while
actively engaged in the compilation and cir-
culation of books which had for their real object
the secret undermining of the Catholic religion.
We need not, however, dwell upon the Whately
attempt to infuse the poison of heresy into the
books in use in the national schools. Of the
tree then planted we can now judge by its
fruits ; for it has attained its utmost growth,
and is at present in full bearing. Choice
specimens of this fruit were exhibited in En-
niskillen so recently as Friday evening last ;
and on the 6th inst. the provincial exhibition
of similar specimens commenced at Rathmines,
a village in the immediate neighbourhood of
the city of Dublin. On Friday last, the Orange-
men of Newbliss held a meeting to drink tea,
provided by a committee of ladies, and to ex-
press sympathy with Mr. Johnston, who pre-
, fers a month's confinement in prison. to con-
I fessing that he had done wrong in breaking
the law, and promising that he would not so
offend in future. After tea, which it must be
admitted is not an exciting beverage, the Rev.
Henry Burdett took the chair, and addressing
the meeting said :—" We see people telling us
that we should not be aspiring to ascendancy.
Now, as long as ever the Lord shall leave me
breath, I will never be content with anything
but Protestant ascendancy. I think it is time
to stand on the watch-tower, and cry 'No
surrender.' I believe in my heart and soul that
the Roman Catholics of this country are in a
most deplorable state of idolatry, and I say
from the Queen down to the humblest Pro-
testant we have no right to succumb to Popery.
I believe a Roman Catholic dying as such is
lost and lost for ever." Rounds of Kentish
fire testified to the delight with which this
characteristic Orange speech was received by
a sympathising audience. Shockingly unchari-
table as it may sound in English ears it is but
the reverberation of a sound familiar to the
frequenters of every Orange lodge in Ireland.
The Rev. John Flanagan, whose name is sug-
gestive of a parentage more familiar with
rosaries and holy water than with Kentish
fire, challenged the meeting to say if their
loyalty was not conditional. "Will you, Orange-
men of Ireland," said Mr. Flanagan, " endorse
the doctrine of unconditional loyalty ?" To
which there was a loud response of " No,
never." He went on to tell them that Pro-
testant loyalty must make itself understood—
that there were 200,000 Orangemen ready to
defend the Church—that the " Queen should
be reminded that one of her ancestors who
swore to maintain the Protestant religion forgot
his oath, and that his crown was kicked into
the Boyne." W hat Lord Mayo may think of
this language we know not ; but for words far
less treasonable, and less inciting to civil war,
numbers of Irishmen have within the last three
months been tried, convicted, and sentenced to
long terms of penal servitude. Referring to
Mr. Cogan's motion for a repeal of that gra-
tuitous wrong to the Catholic Hierarchy of
Ireland, the Ecclesiastical Titles' Act, Mr.
Flanagan, amid peals of Kentish fire, said—
"lf there were a thousand Mr. Ccgans in
Parliament, it was for the Orangemen to tell
them that it was by blood they must acquire
the blood-bought rights of the Protestants of
Ireland."

What is noticeable in these speeches of the
members of the Protestant Defence Associa-
tion is that they openly threaten Parliament
with civil war in the event of so much as an
attempt being made to do justice to the Catho-
lics of Ireland. They have been so pampered
—so secretly encouraged by successive Govern-
ments to trample upon their Catholic fellow-
countrymen, that the bare proposal to place
Catholics and Protestants upon a footing of
civil and religious equality absolutely maddens
them. The Rev. W. H. Ferrar, one of the
Fellows of Trinity College, Dublin, addressing
the Rathmines meeting presided over by Sir
Edward Grogan, said— If the Church Estab-
lishment were destroyed in Ireland, there can-
not, there shall not, there must not be peace in
Ireland. If they think the Protestants of Ire-
land will succumb without a struggle they
know not the men with whom they have to
deal. That I say solemnly before God." Mr.
Shannon, a solicitor, said their cry was "No
Popery." " Their ancestors marched to vic-
tory at Newtownbutler to the cry of No
Popery." "At Aughrim the chivalry of St.
Rutler went down before the headlong charge
of Protestants to the cry of No Popery ;' " and,
one more, " Protestants were coming out in
their strength to the cry of No Popery and
no surrender.' He (Mr. Solicitor Shannon)
was one of a class of men in Ireland of whom
the Government should beware—of a class
resolved to maintain their Protestant rights at
all hazards."

We do not quote the disloyal and rebellious
language of these out-spoken, fair specimens
of the lay and clerical Orange fraternity in
Ireland in order to bring any " railing accusa-
tion" against them. We cite them to show how
utterly inefficacious the Established Church in
Ireland has been in teaching Christian tolera-
tion even to her own clergy. There has been
no attempt, as far as we have heard, on the
part of the Irish University to call Mr. Ferrar
to account for language calculated to prevent
any Catholic gentleman from allowing his sons
to enter it. Mr. Ferrar is, we understand, one
of the college lecturers in residence, and is
in daily communication with the heads of the
University. Well may his Eminence the Car-
dinal Archbishop of Dublin observe—" A
college managed by such men must lose the
respect of all who are liberally disposed ;
whilst Catholic parents, placing their chil-
dren under such tuition in the University,
cannot flatter themselves that they have done
their duty." In fact, it would seem as if
the doomed Church Establishment in Ireland
was already so stricken by the just judgment
of a higher Power than that of Parliament,
as to be in some measure compelled to supply
national and European evidence of the legis-
lative necessity of its suppression. Any Catholic
priest or layman, who only six weeks ago
would have attributed to any Protestant cler-
gyman in Ireland the entertaining such
opinions as have just been proclaimed by the
Rev. Mr. Ferrar, the Rev. Mr. Burdett, and
the Rev. Mr. Flanagan at the meetings in Rath-
mines and Enniskillen, and received by crowded
audiences of Protestant students, ladies and
gentlemen, with rounds of Kentish fire, would
have been denounced by the ultra Protestant
press as afoul libeller of all that was most
meek and charitable in the sister country.
And yet Messrs. Ferrar, Burdett, and Flana-
gan, are by no means specimens of Orange
Parsons weekly in the habit of discoursing of
Catholics in language not a whit more courte-
ous or more charitable. Now, as in the days
of the late Duke of Cumberland, when Queen,

Victoria had just ascended the throne, Irish
Orangemen remind us of the conditional
loyalty of the " true blue" Protestants of
Ireland, and of how " a Royal crown" was
once, and by inference may again be, " kicked
into the Boyne !" What say the loyal people
of England to-this, as a specimen of the fruit
borne by that Tree of evil without admixture
of good—the State Church Establishment in
but not of Ireland ?—Westminster Gazette.

at the increase of marriage, and, consequently,
Population, fearing it would overtake the means
of subsistence. Now, the reverse is the complaint.
It is not the number, but the character of people.
that determines the worth of a country. The worlet
is benefited not by the quantity, but the quality of
its inhabitants. Prudent hesitation is to be praised,
and precipitancy, which so often causes poverty-
stricken children to rush into the sacred responsi-
bilities of parents, is to be censured. But the Nation
sees another gain. The evaporation of the higher
orders, who, in the truest sense of the word, are
civilized off the face of the earth, creates a vacuum
for a steady rise from the lower into the higher
scale. This is a decided advantage over the reverse
by which he surplus in the upper would be crowded
down into the lower grades—the current becoming
ascending instead of descending.—Anglo-American
Times.

SELECTIONS FROM PERCY FITZGERALD'S LIFE

OF G.IRRICK.

GARRICK AND MRS. SIDDONS.

" Richard Bi insley Sheridan said he thought his
Richard was fine, but terrible enough. God bless me,'
said the great actress, Siddons, ' what could be more ter-
rible!' She then told bow, at rehearsal, ho had badQ her,
as he drew Lady Anne from the sofa, follow him step by
step, so that ho should keep his faco to the audience, as he
acted much with his eyes. During tho performance she
was so overcome by the fearful expression of his face that
she forgot her instructions, but was recalled to herself by
a look of reproof which, she said, she should never think
of without terror."

One by one Garrick bore down his great rivals, Quin
Macklin, Barry, Sheridan, Mossop, Ryan, and a host of
others, some of whom had great physical advantages
over him; but though they had a fair share of public
estimation, Garrick was " King Davy." Of his rela-
tions with Peg Woffington, Mr. Fitzgerald tells us a good
deal, but it is not calculated to raise that actress much in
public esteem. It is clear that Garrick intended to marry,
since ho purchased a wedding ring and fitted it to her
finger. There was a spice of jealousy in the affair. Lord
Darnley was jealous of Garrick, and taxed her with having
met him. " I have not soon him for an age," she declared.
" You saw him this morning," answered the nobleman,
who was well-informed. "And is not that an age ?" she
retorted. So with Garrick. He, too, was jealous. "He
told her," writes Mr. Fitzgerald, "that he had lain tossing
all that night, thinking of this wretched marriage ; that it
was a foolish thing for both, who might do better in sepa-
rate lines ; and that, in short, he had worn the shirt of De-
janira. " Then throw it off at once, sir," she said, in her
shrill, inharmonious voice ; " from this moment I have done
with you." The next morning she sant back all his presents,
with a letter of dismissal. He did the same, with the excep-
tion of a pair of diamond buckles of some value. She waited
for a month thinking they had been forgotten, and then
wrote- for them ; but Garrick begged he might be allowed
to keep them "as a memorial of their old friendship, and
of many happy hours." Notwithstanding the clever
apology which follows, we think that the first and last
lady member of the Beefsteak Club had some reason to
be ashamed of her adorer. It was a fortunate thing for
Garrick that his desire to marry Woffington was marred;
for his union with Violette, the Viennese dancer, was
happy. He consulted her on all matters of business ;
and to the day of his death there was never a shadow
between them. Mademoiselle Violette, the young Aus-
trian girl, travelled from Vienna to London in the dis-
guise of a page, in search of an engagement as a dancer.
She enjoyed a marvellous success in London, both at
the theatre and in society, and was, Mr. Fitzgerald
thinks, "a sort of Watteau beauty, with a s►nal! round
face." There was a rage about her. The Countesses
of Burlington and Talbot disputed for her company at
tea; Lady Carlisle was for over asking her to supper,
and Walpole called her "the finest and most admired
dancer in the world." Garrick fell in love with her and
won her, and was probably happier than if he had main-
tained his engagement with the impetuous and egotistic
Peg Woffington. Garrick was born in 1716. His father,
who was a lieutenant of dragoons, was of Huguenot origin.
The family name was De la Garrigue. The Garrick family
at Lichfield was not rich, but the boy had many friends,
not the least of whom was Mr. Walmesley, the bishop's
registrar. He interested himself in the young fellow's
welfare, and it was by his assistance that Garrick came to
London. David's father had gone on service to Gibraltar,
leaving his wife almost heart-broken.
YOUNG DAVY'S LETTERS TO HIS FATHER.
"With every mail the exiled soldier's eyes were glad-
dened with long, long letters from the affectionate David,
full of gay, amusing Lichfield news ; full of genuine love
and filial warmth; and showing, too, not the uncon-
scious selfishness of the schoolboy, who cannot help
writing of himself and his concerns, but a careful selec-
tion of such matters only as would please and interest
the dear father he was addressing. Even the gayer por-
tions seem inspired by the gaiety of a man, and every-
thing is chosen with almost a► laborious anxiety, and the
nicest tact, to cheer and amuse the lonely officer, who,
he knew, would have to wait months for the next mail.
The father took care to put by this remarkable series,
well worthy indeed of being reserved, for they gave cer-
tain promise of a ripe wisedom, a true affection that would,
later, attach friends, of a wit and gaiety that would secure
useful acquaintances, and a tact and gravity that was sure
to win success in any profession. It is hard to give an idea
of these engaging letters, which are as wise as they are
affectionate, and have a shrewdness far removed from the
almost pedantic wisdom of common schoolboys, showing
also a quaintness that might be looked for in, the letters of
grown-up people. It was curious, certainly, that all these
gifts should have centred in David, and that the six others
of the captain's family should have dispositionsof the most
homely and home-spun description."
Samuel Johnson and David were friends. Johnson
was, however, some years the older of the two.
Together they saw plays at Lichfield, and it is noted
that even then Garrick had a keen critical faculty, while
Johnson, so far as the drama was concerned, had none.
Johnson and Garrick came to .town together. Johnson
had set up a school at Lichfield, with Garrick as one of
his pupils, and the venture had failed. Mr. Walmesley,
anxious to get David on in the world, recommended him
to a Mr. Colson, of Rochester, with a view to the com-
pletion of his education before going to the bar. On the
morning of March 2, 1737, Garrick and Johnson sot out
together.
"TARING OFF" THE PLAYERS.

" On one morning a letter was brought in at Southamp-
ton-street, introducing a young man who wished to go on
the stage. Garrick received him kindly, listened to his
declamation, which was poor enough, and comforted the
aspirant by telling him that his shyness was a very good
sign of success. This young fellow had hung about the
green-room at Covent Garden, and for all this shyness
was a pert, forward, impudent glinin, whose precocious
talents of mimicry had been overpraised by friends.
He offered to 'take off' some of the well-
known actors to show the manager his gifts. Nay,
now,' said Mr. Garrick, in his peculiar mixture of hesita-
tion and repetition, which made his 'talk' a
favourite subject of imitation, ' Nay, now, sir, you must
take care of this, for I used to call myself the first at this
business.' But the young fellow knew the manager's
weak place. He began, leading off with Foote. The like-
ness amused the manager immensely, and the performance
was repeated. Hey, now ! now—what—all,' went on
Mr. Garrick. How—really this—this—is—why, well,
well, well, do call on me on Monday, and you may depend
on my doing all I can for you.' This broken style of
speech was Mr. Garrick's characteristic when addressing
his inferiors, and was in fact his managerial manner, and
may have been found very useful in helping him to a sort
of vague generality, without committing him to any posi-
tive declaration. It was not a bad auxiliary for one who
was asked for so much, and had to refuse so much. On
the Monday the youth came again, -and was welcomed
warmly. Ho was told that inquiries had been made about
his widowed mother, and that he was to be put on the
books at 30s. a week—a fortune indeed." The youth's
name was Tate Wilkinson, who afterwards became a very
celebrated manager in Yorkshire.