County Kildare

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County Kildare

  • UF Kildare
  • UF Co. Kildare
  • UF Cill Dara

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County Kildare

3 Name results for County Kildare

Fennell, Denis Peter, 1872-1959, Jesuit brother

  • IE IJA J/34
  • Person
  • 28 June 1872-26 July 1959

Born: 28 June 1872, Glasthule, County Dublin
Entered 01 February 1893, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Final Vows: 02 February 1904
Died: 26 July 1959, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

Part of Clongowes Wood College SJ community, Kildare, at time of death.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 34th Year No 4 1959
Obituary :
Br Denis Fennell

Denis Peter Fennell was born in Glasthule on 28th June, 1872 and died in St. Vincent's Hospital last July. Of his 87 years, over 59 were spent in Clongowes, where he worked patiently and efficiently as accountant and assistant to the Procurator to within a week or so of his death.
From his boyhood he deeply venerated the priestly and religious state and he first cherished the ambition of entering a seminary and devoting himself to God as a priest in the foreign missions preferably, he said, in a remote and painful mission. Family circumstances, however, imposed a delay and he joined the office of the Freeman's Journal in Dublin in 1889. Here, during an exciting and critical period of Irish history, 1889-1892, he worked in the capacity of shorthand-typist and junior secretary to the Manager, meeting the editors of the three papers published from that office and listening to the interesting and informative conversation of journalists and reporters during the dramatic years of the Parnell “split”. He had some interviews with the Provincial, Fr. Timothy Kenny, at that time, and it was suggested that he should pursue his studies and enter as a scholastic; but the disedifying aspects of the controversies then raging and the fact that his newspaper decided to his dismay to advocate the continued leadership of Parnell convinced him that it was time to flee the world. In any case he had, he believed, received a light in prayer that he would please God far more and do far more work for Him as a brother than as a priest. This, he said, overcame his natural reluctance to forego his first zealous desire, so he applied for admission at once and entered Tullabeg on 4th August, 1892.
Before his noviceship had been completed he was sent to Clongowes to undertake some urgent work and he remained there until it was time to return to Tullabeg for his vows. At once he was sent back to Clongowes and he remained there until his death in 1959 with but one break of six years. From 1918-1921 he was in Tullabeg and from 1921-1924 in Belvedere. He was to state towards the close of his life that he felt most grateful to God for this interruption of his long years of service in Clongowes. The sojourn in the quiet of our midland Thebaid and later amid the busy streets of Dublin helped, he felt, his love of solitude and shaped an inclination towards the mystical life, preparing him for the long term that awaited him among the account-books and money bags of Clongowes. Indeed, he once stated with an endearing simplicity that for a Jesuit he was exceptionally contemplative! He mentioned too that while a few past pupils, notably Sir Gilbert Laithwaite and Mr. Bobby Keogh, invariably went in search of him when they visited the old school, as regards other Old Clongownians, however much he might esteem and like them, he usually succeeded in following the counsel of the Imitation of Christ to keep from the company of men as much as he could”.
While he was in Tullabeg he wrote a little book entitled The Loving Adorer of Jesus. It consisted of 96 closely-printed pages of prayers in verse, and was, he proudly said, “honoured with the imprimatur of Archbishop Byrne and published by the Catholic Truth Society of Ireland”. He insisted on its being published anonymously but a few of his religious brethren and some old friends came to know the secret.
His long years of devoted service in Clongowes were passed within a narrow compass - his office, the chapel, his room. Apart from these places and in dispensable visits to the refectory, only the library saw him. Here he would peruse the news columns of the daily papers for half-an-hour or so, sometimes while Fathers waited with a kindly smile for the old man to finish his reading. His view of the world was that of the prelude to the meditation of Two Standards and he believed that he could see in the daily news items the working out of the conflict between the forces of Christ and the forces of the Evil One, thus drawing matter for contemplation even from the morning paper.
The study of history too was a favourite hobby of his and here again his standpoint was the same. I do not know if in his youth he had read De Civitate Dei or l'Histoire Universelle, but in heaven he will have discovered an affinity with Bossuet and St. Augustine. Not surprisingly his interest began with Irish history, as he felt that his vocation had been to some extent determined by it. His views were, of course, occasionally extravagant and unbalanced, for he lacked professional training in that study. But he had as much as some of those who looked askance at this hobby of his and had read more widely and systematically than most. In his service of God in Clongowes he was a model of punctuality, exactitude and method: even if the method was peculiarly his own it was intelligent and it worked. Members of that community have said that it was always a pleasure to deal with him. He was kindly, deferential, soft-spoken, always a perfect gentleman. When Fathers who were about to travel went to him to collect a viaticum, he invariably inquired anxiously if they were sure they had enough a solicitude not always remarked in keepers of the common purse-courteously and charitably presuming that their devotion to holy poverty was not less than his own. Finally, he was a religious who kept on working to an age when most others would have drifted into a well-merited retirement. The very large number of Jesuits who attended the funeral Mass said by his nephew testified to the esteem in which he was held by the Province in general and by all who had connections with Clongowes in particular. The community there will miss him and the Brothers have lost an old companion who was interesting, well-informed, edifying and withal possessed of a deep and charitable sense of humour - a remarkable man and a remarkable Jesuit Brother. May he rest in peace after his long labours.

◆ The Clongownian, 1953

Jubilee

Brother Denis Fennell SJ

In February Brother Fennell celebrated his Diamond Jubilee as a member of the Society of Jesuis. He first came to Clongowes in November, 1894 and, with the exception of the years 1918-24 which were spent in Tullabeg and Belvedere, he has passed his long and devoted life here.

Early on in his life in the Society, Brother Fennell's talents in book-keeping were recognised by his superiors. He was appointed accountant and assistant to the procurator of Clongowes and has been employed in this exacting work ever since. Over the long years he has given splendidly efficient but unobstrusive service in the procurator's office and Clongowes owes him a debt of deep gratitude. It is characteristic of Brother Fennell's devotion to duty that he spent the most of his Jubilee day at the books. His sixty years of signal service have in no way diminished his ardour for work and we pray that Brother Fennell with his useful talents may long be spared to us.

Editors of the Clongownian in the past have been under deep obligations to Brother Fennell, who since his arrival in Clongowes, set in order many valuable memorials of the College's history. His collections of press cuttings, and printed documents relating to social activities in the College for the past century and a half (nearly) will in days to come make historians of the College bless his memory. A feature of Brother Fennell's Jubilee celebrations was the number of letters of congratulations and enquiries from many of our Past. Ad Multos, Annos.

◆ The Clongownian, 1960

Obituary

Brother Denis Fennell SJ

Last July, shortly after the boys had left for the holidays, died the oldest member of the Clongowes community, Brother Denis Fennell, in the 88th year of his age. And it is almost certainly true to say that when they returned after the vacation not a single boy missed him or even noticed his absence. For he was one of the many who in the background or behind the scenes perform the work, humdrum and tedious, on which so much depends, without which the school could not continue. For almost 60 years he had toiled for God in Clongowes, spending his days among ledgers and bills and receipts, passing the rest of his time in prayer or exploring the curious by ways of history, a study which he loved much, At last, unthanked by any of those whom he had served in successive generations through such long years, he quietly left to meet his Master, a likeness of the good and faithful servant of Our Lord's parable.

Schoolboys are thoughtless - they have, most of them, received so much loving care from their parents and others that they take for granted and as a matter of right anything that is done for them. But perhaps their elders are often at fault in allowing them to ignore so blithely the realities of life and their debt to others. The passing of a man like Brother Fennell should furnish matter for reflection for our past and present boys, for their parents, and indeed for some of our facile theorists in the popular subject of education,

He was born in 1872 in Glasthule and from an early age was attracted to the priesthood. Family circumstances however seemed to impose a delay in carrying out his plans and he took to newspaper work, joining the staff of the Freeman's Journal and serving on that paper during a most interesting and dramatic period of Irish history, an intelligent young observer of events that included the Parnell “split”. Before very long the impulse towards the religious life made itself felt more strongly and he received, he believed, a light in prayer that God wished him to become a religious brother rather than a priest. And so this talented young man left behind the world and the prospect of an interesting career.

The story of the long years that followed is briefly told: almost all of them, after the noviceship, were spent in Clongowes where his skill in accountancy was to prove most useful until the end of his life. For him the service of the school was the service of the Divine Majesty, and was therefore performed with no thought of reward, no hungering for human gratitude or recognition. Such is the foundation of supernatural dedication on which a school like Clongowes is built; such is the capital of selfless enthusiasm and service on which a school like Clongowes runs; and it is lives of prayer and toil like Brother Fennell's that bring down God's blessing on its activities. And here is the secret which is apparently so seldom penetrated even by those who profit most from it. It is surely fitting that such devotion should be occasionally acknowledged and that those for whom Brother Fennell worked so hard should pray for him now that his long years of labour are ended.

Little, Arthur, 1897-1949, Jesuit priest and writer

  • IE IJA J/32
  • Person
  • 31 March 1897-05 December 1949

Born: 31 March 1897, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 31 August 1914, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1929, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1934, t Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Died: 05 December 1949, Milltown Park, Dublin

Early education at Belvedere College SJ & Clongowes Wood College SJ

Studied for BA Classics, 1st Class Honours at UCD

by 1924 in Australia - Regency at Riverview, Sydney
by 1932 at St Beuno’s Wales (ANG) making Tertianship

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
As a regent, Arthur Little taught at Riverview, 1923-26, where the bright and brash Riverview boys turned his classes into chaos. After tertianship at St Beuno's, Little spent the major part of his life as a philosophy professor at Tullabeg. He was a very skilled thinker as well as being an excellent musician and wrote on aesthetics and poetry.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 25th Year No 1 1950

Obituary

Fr. Arthur Little (1897-1914-1949)

Fr. Arthur Little was born in Dublin on 31st March, 1897. He was educated at Belvedere and Clongowes. His early life in the Society followed the usual course : Noviceship (Tullabeg) 1914-16; then Juniorate (Tullabeg 1 year, Rathfarnham 3 years) where he obtained a first class Honours M.A. in Classics ; Philosophy (Milltown) 1920-23 ; Colleges (Riverview) 23-26; Theology (Milltown) 26-30, where he was ordained Most Rev. Dr. Goodier, S.J; Tertianship (St. Beuno's), his Instructor being Fr. Joseph Bolland, the present English Assistant.
Prior to Tertianship he taught for one year in Clongowes; after it he professed Philosophy - Psychology and Theodicy - for 14 years in Tullabeg (1932-46). From 1946 to his death he was in Leeson St, as “Scriptor”. The mortal disease which brought about his premature death at the height of his powers, prevented him from taking up a professorship of Theology at Milltown Park, to which the 1949 Status bad assigned him. He died on 5th December.

Works :
An Epic Poem on the Passion : “Christ Unconquered”.
Broadcast talks on Catholic Philosophy : “Philosophy without Tears”
“The Nature of Art or The Shield of Pallas”.

Shortly before his death he had completed a detailed study of Plato's influence on the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas : “The Platonic Heritage of Thomism”. This book will be published shortly. An advanced copy of it reached Fr. Little a few days before his death. He was a regular contributor to “Studies”, “Irish Monthly” and other periodicals.

An Appreciation :
In the premature death of Fr. Arthur Little, after months of severe suffering, the Province has lost its most brilliant member. He possessed a remarkably wide range of gifts and some of them in a high degree. He was a classical scholar, a philosopher, a poet, a musician, a critic of art, a writer, a wit. So remarkable an endowment could easily have made him a rather formidable person one to be admired from a distance, were these gifts not completed and balanced by an irrespressible sense of humour and an oddity and whimsicality of manner and demeanour which made him. emphatically a “character”, and a most loveable one at that. For twelve years he was professor of philosophy at Tullabeg, and he did more than any other one man to build up in that infant scholasticate a tradition of sound, solid doctrine. His first subject was psychology, but he soon came to theodicy which was his favourite treatise. He had arrived in Tullabeg without any very definite system but with a certain leaning to Scotism. But, after a short contact with the senior member of the staff he was suddenly converted to Thomism. The conversion was complete and final. He entered into the thought of St. Thomas not merely without any difficulty but with enthusiasm. He was an “anima naturaliter Thomistica”. But he was singularly free from the acrimony of a convert to his abandoned oracle.
He gave himself entirely and untiringly to his work as a professor, and he was perfectly happy as a lecturer. It might be thought that a man of such imagination, a man with the sensibility of a poet, might have given play to these gifts in his treatment of philosophy. But the truth was that when he lectured on psychology or theodicy he was always the metaphysician. He gave his class pure undiluted Thomistic thought. He spared them nothing of the most rigid, the stiffest scholastic method. His lectures were close reasoned, exacting, with no appeal to the imagination. His codex was as forbidding to the unintiated as the Metaphysics of Aristotle, and it needed the comment of the master to draw out its riches. He paid his pupils the formidable compliment of considering them to be on the level of his own austere height of thought and method. And his pupils appreciated the compliment and had for him an admiration that was often an enthusiasm.
In his lectures on the history of philosophy his literary powers could find scope, and what an entertaining subject he could make of it can be judged from his broadcast talks, published as “Philosophy Without Tears”, and from his articles in Studies. He did not read widely and that was a weakness in his position, but he thought out every point in his system and had made a coherent synthesis. He was an indefatigable worker and always sat at his desk. One wondered where he got the energy for this unremitting thought on so difficult a subject. It did not seem to come from the usual sources, because he ate about as much as a robust sparrow and for weeks at a time did not stir out of the house. That devotion to his work was not the lest debt which Tullabeg owes to Fr. Arthur.
But this metaphysician was also a poet. His “Christ Unconquered” is an ambitious epic poem on the Passion. He deliberately followed the tradition of the epic, especially as handled by Virgil and Milton, with its speeches, councils, episodes. He professed to have made Virgil his model, but actually the resemblance to Milton in diction, metre and general style was evident in every page and caused the professional critics to see in it an amazingly clever imitation and thus succeeded in closing their eyes to the great merits and the true individuality of this remarkable poem. The main defect is that he has put too much theology into it and theology is a recalcitrant medium for the poet, and certainly parts of it are heavy going. But on the whole it has a great distinction of style ; and there are many passages of great beauty which will not easily die. In fact such passages suggest that his truest vein was the lyric.
But some will think that be was still greater as a prose writer. Certainly his prose, so much of which appeared in Studies and the Irish Monthly, was of a high order, strong, distinctive, brilliant, witty.
If he had been put at writing as his professional work, he would undoubtedly have become a man of wide reputation, of the eminence of Fr. D'Arcy or Mgr. Knox. But even as things fell out it looked as if his day as a writer had come when he was taken away from philosophy. He seemed to be about to reap the harvest of the long years thought and study in that little room on the top storey in Tullabeg. Books and articles began to come from his pen in the short time he spent at Leeson St. He was a regular contributor to Studies. He finished a profound philosophical study on aesthetics, “The Shield of Pallas”, and up to the last he was engaged on a study of the Platonic element in St. Thomas, an advanced copy of which was put into his hands on his death bed. The book is a genuine contribution to the subject and is the fruit of a long study of his two favourite masters. All things then pointed to a rich yield of the labours of years, when God called him.
And what can one say of those personal gifts which made him so pleasant a companion - the originality of mind, the power to see sudden and often absurd resemblances, the brilliance and wit of his conversation? His wit bubbled up spontaneously and played about all subjects and his sense of humour was irrepressible. How inadequate are a few remembered examples to convey these things to those who did not know him! He is lecturing on the nature of a spirit and has shown that they have not even the principle of extension a punctum, and then he says solemnly “We must admit reluctantly that the Angels are most unpunctual beings”. He meets a Tullabeg colleague away from home and says “Dr. Livingstone I presume”. He used to say that in a detective story and he was a regular reader of them - he hated to be fobbed off at the last page with an accident or a suicide but wanted a decent clean murder. And to the end his good humour and wit did not neglect him,
“A fellow of infinite jest, Horatio”.
We may safely conjecture that in Heaven he will spend much of his time - he would correct me and say his aevum - in the company of two St. Thomases - the Angelical Doctor and St. Thomas More.
His joyous temperament lifted him above all bitterness and there was not a grain of malice in his make-up. He was an exemplary religious. He was highly esteemed as a giver of retreats. He was a man of the highest spiritual principles, and the sufferings of the last months of his life, borne with a patience and a joyous resignation which produced a deep effect on all who came near him were a manifestation of what his religion and vocation meant to him.
“Anima eius in refrigerio”. R.I.P.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father Arthur Little 1897-1949
In the premature death of Fr Arthur Little on November 5th 1949, the Irish Province lost its most brilliant member. He was Professor for fourteen years in Tullabeg, where he built up by his zeal and talents, a tradition of solid doctrine after the mind of St Thomas.

Born in Dublin on March 31st 1897, he entered the Society in 1914, having received his education at Belvedere and Clongowes. He taught as a scholastic at St Ignatius College Sydney from 1923-1926. Having returned to Ireland for Theology, he was ordained to the priesthood at Milltown Park in 31st July 1929. He did his tertianship at St Beuno’s and was professed of four vows in 1934.

Besides lecturing in Philosophy, he wrote many works, three ofn which are well known :
“The Nature of Art” or “The Shield of Pallas”, “Philosophy without Tears” and “The Platonic Heritage in Thomism. He also published an epic poem on the Passion entitled “Christ Unconquered”.

Besides being a man of remarkable literary gifts, he had a keen sense of humour and a ready wit. A man of simple piety, a model of religious life. He was lively and joyous even in his suffering, which ended in his death died on December 5th 1949.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1950

Obituary

Father Arthur Little SJ

My first impression of Arthur dates back to more than forty years ago, and the scene was the Belvedere Theatre during a still-remembered production of “David Garrick”. In those spacious days the audience were entertained to tea during the interval “on the floor of the house”. Arthur, in more than usually unbecoming Etons, was a “tea-boy”. I, armed with milk and sugar, was boatswaints mate. Tea-boy is, however, not the correct word. Out of the silver pot flowed a clear stream of boiling water. It may, of course, have been an accident but if so, why was Arthur so persistent in offering it to so many guests? And it may be a fraud of memory that gives me a picture of his delighted smile at the variety of their reactions. It is surely such a trick that depicts him with free finger fluttering at the lip in a gesture of mingled consternation, delight and apology. At all events, it was the first experience of a practical joker of child-like seriousness, inexhaustible zeal and fresh imagination. He retained that sense of humour to the end. A week or two before the final sickness declared itself he had been appointed to the Professorship of Theology vacated by Fr Canavan who was similarly stricken. In hospital he commented : “I suppose this goes with the job”, and to another friend : “A chair of theology did you say? A sofa or a bed of theology is what you mean”.

One recalls these trivial jokes which like all jokes on paper lose their lustre as surely as a drying pebble, simply because at the very beginning of one's memories of this deep thinking, learned and truly ascetic character there come thoughts of his simplicity, his gaiety his child-like zest. Neither time nor studies nor pain nor illness dimmed this gleam, Arthur was most certainly gifted with a double measure of individuality. All men are unique but he was unique in a special degree and oddly enough this marked difference between him and the rest of men was changeless and perfectly true to form from beginning to end. He was not a baffling or uncertain character. When you knew Arthur, you knew not only that his reaction to any given stimulus would be original, unpredictable and exciting, but that it would also be so characteristic that when it disclosed itself you would comment - “How like Arthur!”

This, I think, came from an eccentricity which was totally without pride or pretence, and though it gloried in a very definite sort of affectation and vanity, it was at the heart's core absolutely sincere and founded on a passionate love of truth and an . instinct to "beauty.

He was at Belvedere when I came and survived me. We had later, a couple of years in Clongowes and he went thence to TCD. No one could have been less affected by the last experience of which he never spoke and personally I think of him as a product of BCD and UCD. I believe he thought so himself. At UCD he was an exceptionally brilliant student. He had only taken up Classics after his noviceship, yet his Greek mark in his BA was a record one. He had an extraordinary gift for the acquisition of the elements of any language : French, German, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Italian, English and Irish. His reading was deep as it was wide. His bedside book would be a Greek drama. In his last illness I cited an epigram written by St Peter Canisius about Bl Peter Faber: It is given in English in Fr Broderick's work and I did not know if it was originally in German or Latin. “Neither”, said Arthur off-hand - “The Greek Anthology”, and he quoted the couplet from memory as a matter of course though Canisius’ use of it was new to him. Naturally, then at College, he began to write a florid but rich prose and a great quantity of jewelled, rather exotic verse. A little life of St Isaac Jogues written at this time remains, perhaps, unsurpassed.

He went next to the study of a lifetime, his almost passionate preoccupation till the end : Philosophy. Despite his literary imagination he proved a fine metaphysician and was, of course, constantly delighted in the search for the ultimate reasons of things. Most of his working life was spent as an inspiring and industrious professor, communicating an art in which he was absorbed, and communicating it with exceptional inspiration method and success. That most important, aspect of his work and of the books that bequeath it to us I cannot hope to treat adequately here. His poetry remained a true part of him if now a sub ordinate part. With the publication of “Christ Unconquered”, an epic of the Passion of Our Lord, he challenged recognition on the very top level, to succeed in this being to succeed with the greatest and most important theme. The poem's appearance was unfortunately delayed and it was first read by an audience sated with war-suffering and definitely tired. It was much praised, but not enough. Arthur himself laughed at critics who scolded him for writing like Milton. (One of our greatest Irish Scholars reading it in MSS. exclaimed “the thought of Dante in the language of Milton”). But the poem will survive and be quite possibly more widely read a hundred years from now.

Arthur's memory too, will survive as long as any live who knew him well. For all, truly all who knew him well, loved him well and he was so sharply drawn a personality as to be quite unforgettable. Nor yet among all the wide circle who knew him and loved him could one be found who would deny that in Arthur they recognised a spirit made for another world, a being totally unworldly, lighting and warming this alien atmosphere in which God placed him for a while but to which he scarcely belonged, so that he beckons to us from that home-land where he was always at home, the country of which the Lamb is the light and His love the food and drink of one who hungered and thirsted for justice and truth,
May he rest in peace.

◆ The Clongownian, 1950

Obituary

Father Arthur Little SJ

It is, I presume, a pathetic fallacy for Old Clongownians to believe that the generation in which they passed their days in Clongowes was far and away the best in the history of the College. Anyone who lived during the years 1911-1914 in Clongowes has more than ordinarily good reasons for thinking that there never was such as period in the history of the College. The happy death of Fr Arthur Little brings this whole period of leisured and spacious times back to memory.

He came to Clongowes in September, 1911 having already spent six years in Belvedere and arriving in Clongowes trailing all the clouds of glory which a Preparatory Grade Exhibitioner enjoyed in those days. He was placed in First Junior which included that year names which have since achieved some small celebrity. Mr Justice Sheil of Northern Ireland is rubbing shoulders in the school list with Alban O'Kelly of Turf Board fame, and Mattie Bodkin, the Jesuit missioner, who join hands with Herbert Mooney from the Forestry Service in India and Con Maguire from the Head office of the United Nations in Geneva, while Tom Fleming is in Australia as a Jesuit and Maurice Dowling in Northern Rhodesia. Among the upper community who helped to form Arthur in these years were Fr “Jimmy” Daly, Fr George Roche, Fr John Sullivan, whose Cause for Canonisation has now been introduced, the late Fr J E Canavan, Fr John Joy and the present Irish Ambassador to the Vatican.

Arthur won an Exhibition in the Modern Literary Group in the Junior Grade that year, 1912, and in the following year went up with his former companions to Poetry. In the Intermediate Examinations that year he won a Modern Literary Scholarship in Middle Grade but did not return in September, 1913 to Clongowes for Senior Grade as would have been the normal course. Instead, he entered Trinity College Law School with the idea of becoming a barrister.

While at Clongowes his genius, perhaps to us boys somewhat of an eccentric type, was recognised. Even then he was intensely interested in music and poetry and I have a distinct recollection of one of my earliest conversations with him in which he casually quoted a junk of Froissart's Chronicles as being something with which I should be (at the age of 14) completely familiar - which I was not. He had an unusual flair for drawing and the number of narrow escapes which he had while practising this skill with his class master at the blackboard as unwitting model, were numerous. I believe that he had learned the violin at the age of six and I know that he never abandoned the playing of that instrument and amongst his papers after his death, a very substantial pile of violin and piano compositions, written by himself, were discovered.

There was a legend in his family that he had learned to read without being taught and one of the most vivid memories of him is of a long, lanky boy curled up in a large armchair wrapped in some book. He was tall and thin all his life and rather on the delicate side and consequently he did not take much part in the games at Clongowes. But all his life long, even during his early days, he loved long solitary walks and his brother remembers “his great ingenuity in getting into difficulties in these walks which he subsequently dubbed extraordinary adventures”. History was to repeat itself in this matter for when he was a Professor in Philosophy at Tullabeg College one of his favourite recreations was to go striding along the bleak bog roads clothed in an old raincoat with, if I remember rightly, a kind of deerstalker cap on bis head and a huge leather cylindrical case slung across his back which might easily have contained a small tommy gun but actually contained only a thermos flask. He was, however, a very good tennis player with an extraordinarily graceful style and a very effective technique. In his youth, strange as it may seem to those who knew the gentle Arthur later on, he was more than a bit of a boxer. His literary ability, like the sanctity of the Saints, showed early : for while at Belvedere he founded and published a magazine entitled “The Comet” duplicating it on a primitive jelly machine which left more ink on himself than on the paper.

While at Trinity in the year 1913-14 both the labour and the political world were in an exciting state, Arthur's politics had always been extremely nationalistic and the moment the National Volunteers had been founded he joined them in Larkfield, early in 1914. He became a fluent speaker of Irish, a loyal holder of the Fáinne, and spoke and wrote Irish at every suitable opportunity. If things had turned out somewhat differently he might easily have been yet another poet who would have died in 1916, as, indeed, more than one Belvederian and Clongownian poet in these days did die. In September, 1914, Arthur turned his back on the world, the Bar, and Trinity College, and entered the Jesuit Noviceship at Tullabeg, meeting there once again many of his former companions of Junior and Middle Grade in Clongowes. He remained in Tullabeg for the two years of his noviceship and went through the Juniorate, which was marked for him by his introduction to Greek. He only commenced to learn Greek in 1916 but : four years later, in 1920, he took first place with First Class Honours in the BA Classical Group at UCD. He spent his three University years in Rathfarnham Castle where he had the saintly Fr John Sullivan as Rector, and then, in September, 1920, went to Milltown Park where he was introduced to the subject in which he was afterwards to display such brilliancy and profundity - Scholastic Philosophy. After his three years Philosophical Course he was sent to Riverview in Sydney, Australia, where he taught in that “Clongowes of Australia” with notable success. He returned to Ireland in 1926 and began his Theological studies at Miltown Park where he had as Professors, Fathers Peter Finlay, M Devitt, P J Gannon, John Hannon, J E Canavan and as spiritual Father, Fr “Tim” Fegan. He always considered himself blessed in having been fortunate enough to come to Milltown Park when this galaxy of brilliant Professors were at their prime. He was ordained in July, 1929 and finished his course in Theology the following year, 1930, doing a brilliant examination which led to the conferring on him of the DD from the Gregorian University.

That summer he went to Valkenburg, the famous Jesuit House of Studies in Holland, to improve his German and to further studies in Philosophy. In 1931 he spent an ecstatically happy year at Clongowes as Master and left it the following June almost hidden by the explosion and smoke of a final pyrotechnique display which, as Editor of the “Clongownian”, he provided for a delighted public in the only issue he ever produced. In September, 1932 he went to St Beuno's in North Wales for his Tertianship and it is of some interest to know that he had as one of his companions yet another Clongownian who has made, a name for himself in the Jesuit Mission field, Father Jack O'Meara (12-15) at present in Canton in Red China, while with him also was a Belvederian former companion, Fr Don Donnelly, whose meteoric adventures in China and India during the last war deserve a passing mention. In 1933 he was sent to the Jesuit Philosophate at St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg. Here he was Professor of Natural Theology for fourteen years and of Psychology for eight years as well as teaching the History of Ancient and Modern Philosophy for seven years.

At Tullabeg he came in contact once more with Fr J E Canavan, hiniself a brilliant Metaphysician of the Thomistic school. Up to this, Arthur had been a Theologian and Philosopher of considerable ability but his contact with Fr Canavan produced something like a “revelation” in him and he became suddenly very much more than a mere able Philosopher. Maritain tells somewhere of an experience which he had in which he seemed suddenly to get an intuition of “being”. Something like this happened to Arthur in that year and from then on he both spoke and wrote on Philosophical questions with an extraordinary sureness of touch, depth of insight and clarity of view. He was a most inspiring lecturer and although some of the students must have found him at times difficult to follow, yet they all appreciated the fact that they were being taught by someone who was something more than talented - there was always a flash of genius in his treatment of Philosophical questions. He led a typical “woodland philosopher's” life absorbed in his leading of St Thomas and in his philosophical meditations but emerging now and again to go striding across the bogs or to take his fiddle up to some remote part of the house and play Beethoven.

He was an extraordinarily holy man and a religious of exemplary regularity. Any one who heard his Retreats would know that the man was preaching the very highest and most sincerely held principles and doctrine, but preaching nothing which he himself did not practise or, at least, never abandoned the effort to practise. As he himself used to put it in a Retreat, “If the just man falls seven times a day, he can only fall on the seventh time if he has got up six times before, and it is the six getting ups that make him just, not the seven fallings”.

Meanwhile he was writing articles constantly for various periodicals, chiefly “Studies” and the “Irish Monthly” on History, Music and English Literature. He published a number of lyric poems and his little life of Isaac Jogues is a masterpiece of biography

In 1946 he published the long epic poem on the Passion of Our Lord, “Christ Unconquered” which was held by “The Tablet” as “the best book on the Passion published in England in recent years”, while the Times Literary Supplement paid tribute to the beauty, sincerity and forcefulness of his writing. The poem is almost as long as “Paradise Lost” and is actually very much influenced by Milton. It contains passages of brilliant theological and philosophical argument and some wonderful analysis of the chief characters of the Passion, while certain of its descriptive passages are of quite unusual artistic beauty. The following year, 1946, he published a small book called “Philosophy without Tears” which contained a series of broadcasts from Radio Eireann. This book received two Book Society awards in America and was welcomed by a wide circle of critics with high praise. It contains some of the most typical “Arthurian” methods of philosophical analysis and exposition his irresistible impulse to see incongruities in the solemnities of life and pomposities of persons led him nearly always into what some people would call frivolity of exposition. Like Shakespeare, he rarely resisted the temptation to make a pun, though his puns were often “thought” puns rather than “word” puns, due I imagine, to his ever-present awareness of the analogical nature of being itself.

In 1946 he also published a brilliant book “On Aesthetics” treating of the nature of Art and its relation to Morality. It was received by “The Month” with a laudatory review declaring that “the book is a substantial piece of scholarship written in a delightfully flowing style” while an Irish critic spoke of it as “A Philosophical book of European quality”. Fr. Little received numerous letters from the most varied classes of persons thanking him for this book. It was about the title of the book that one of his favourite puns was made. His name being Art Little and the book being the “Nature of Art” someone said that it should have been called “Erie or Little by Little”.

But what was destined to be his master piece was not actually published until his death although he had the satisfaction of having a specially printed and bound copy in his hands just before he died. This was “The Platonic Heritage of Thomism”. It is a study of the relation of St Thomas's philosophy to Platonism and includes an investigation into the doctrine of Participation and its function in Thomism. Actually the book is an examination of the very foundations of Metaphysics and its relation to Epistemology. It is a marvellously brilliant piece of work being a penetrating appreciation of the very quintessence of Thomism from the viewpoint of the Platonic doctrine of Participation. Fr. Little had all almost uncanny knowledge of three great Philosophers - Plato, Aristotle, and St Thomas. He began by being fascinated by Plato and his MA thesis, for which he was awarded first place and First Class Honour's in the National University, was on “The Subconscious in the Philosophy of Plato”. He kept his love for Plato all through his years of study and it was only when he became a Professor in Tullabeg that the hard gemlike quality of Aristotle's works pushed his Platonism into the background. This was helped by Arthur's profound study of St Thomas. He seems to have followed the form of St Thomas's mind and opinions by following his commentaries on. Aristotle's philosophy.

He had an extraordinary familiarity with these seldom read works and I remember him, in the course of an argument referring me by memory to passages in those commentaries as an explanation of many passages in the Summa which are really unintelligible without a knowledge of those commentaries. In the 20's and 30's two great problems in Philosophy were being debated in Catholic circles on. the Continent of Europe : the problem of the natural desire of man for God and the problem of Participation. Fr Arthur was deeply interested in both of these problems. But actually without knowing about the literature which was gathering round the second of these problems in Italy, Germany and France, he himself made a very thorough research into the origin of the doctrine of Participation in St Thomas. There is, of course, a classical problem surrounding this question of the Participation of Being as developed by St Thomas. There is some evidence that St Thomas actually misinterpreted Aristotle on this question. But this is not certain. The real problem is, seeing that St Thomas criticised the text of Aristotle with complete intellectual integrity, how was it that with all the evidence in front of him for a correct interpretation, he yet overlooked the main errors of his author. Fr Little's belief was that the historical situation, which was indeed extremely critical for St Thomas and Aristotelianism, exercised a considerable influence on St Thomas's final explanation of Aristotle's text. But it was only after the war had ended that he discovered that three other Jesuits and a Dominican had all been working on the same problem.

He found that his own book was quite worthy to stand beside any of those published already on this subject.

At the time of his death he was writing a very characteristic series of articles on the History of Greek Philosophy. He had already published articles on Descartes and Leibniz and on existentialism as well as on the philosophical problems arising from the differential calculus. One of the minor pieces of writing of which he was inordinately, but very excusably, proud was his “Metaphysical Argument Against the Possibility of Immediate Action from a Distance” published in the Gregorianum.

Shortly after the close of the last war Fr Arthur was invited to occupy the Chair of Philosophy in the University at Malta. He looked forward with keen zeal to this new opportunity for his Philosophical Apostolate. A number of circumstances, however, delayed his taking up the position and in the summer of 1949 he fell seriously ill. He had been appointed only a month before to the Professorship of Theology at Milltown Park. His last illness was woefully protracted and he suffered considerable pain with his typical Arthurian self-discipline and courage. He spent the last months of his life in the same manner in which he lived, dividing his time between prayer, the preparation of his final work “The Platonic Heritage in Thomism”, and reading an occasional detective novel, a practice which, like all his other practices, was rigidly disciplined and confined to very definite hours of the day.

He died on the 5th December, 1949, the eve of Santa Claus, at a time when the right arm of his fellow-Jesuit, St Francis Xavier, was being venerated in Ireland. In a room close beside him lay dying also his brilliant fellow - Professor, Fr J E Canavan SJ, to whom Arthur in all probability owed the occasion for the “philosophical revelation” which came to him in 1934 in Tullabeg. They were both brilliant Metaphysicians, both poets, both wits and both men of whom the Society of Jesus might well be proud, both as saintly religious and as scholars. Within two months Fr Canavan had joined Fr Little to abandon philosophical speculation for the Beatific Vision.

Nash, Robert, 1902-1989, Jesuit priest and writer

  • IE IJA J/300
  • Person
  • 23 April 1902-21 August 1989

Born: 23 April 1902, Cork City, County Cork
Entered: 01 September 1919, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1931, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1934, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 21 August 1989, Our Lady’s Hospice, Dublin

Part of the St Francis Xavier's, Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin community at the time of death

by 1927 in Australia - Regency at Xavier College, Kew
by 1933 at St Beuno’s Wales (ANG) making Tertianship

◆ Royal Irish Academy : Dictionary of Irish Biography, Cambridge University Press online :
Nash, Robert
by Patrick Maume

Nash, Robert (1902–89), Jesuit priest and apologist, was born 23 April 1902 at Cork, third and only surviving child of Robert Nash (d. Southampton, 21 November 1901) and his wife Delia (née Kearney). He was brought up in Limerick by his mother and maternal uncle Joseph Kearney, a shop worker, and was educated at St Mary's convent school, St Munchin's day school, and Mount St Alphonsus College, Limerick, a minor seminary for the Redemptorist order. Nash was heavily influenced by his mother's fervent catholicism, which had been reinforced by her unhappy childhood and adult bereavement. He subsequently thought she was over-protective but that she did not exert any undue influence on his choice of vocation; he made the priesthood his life's ambition. After the Redemptorists decided that his health was too weak for the religious life, Nash approached the Jesuit order and entered the Jesuit novitiate at Tullabeg, near Tullamore, on 1 September 1919.

Nash took his vows as a Jesuit in 1921. After three years in the Jesuit training house at Milltown Park, Dublin, he was sent on the Australian mission, 1925–8, then returned to Milltown Park for four years’ theological study. He was ordained to the priesthood on 31 July 1931. He subsequently spent ten months’ tertianship at St Beuno's College in north Wales. His superiors retained him in Ireland out of consideration for his mother, who died in 1949. He soon became well known as a preacher and leader of retreats.

Nash's first article on spiritual matters appeared during his scholasticate, when his superior asked him to write up his trial sermon; he eventually published at least twenty-eight books, one of which (Is life worth while? (1949)) sold 100,000 copies, and more than 300 pamphlets. He had the gift of expressing himself in simple and direct language. Nash's world view was uncompromising: he preached a popularised version of Ignatian spirituality, with its emphasis on total commitment. Every moment was seen as participating in the fateful choice between heaven and hell; his compulsive writing reflected fear of wasting time. Even the mildest worldly pleasures came under suspicion as distractions from eternity or occasions of sin. This view lay behind his most notorious pamphlet, The devil at dances, which appeared during the clerically inspired campaign against unsupervised dance venues in the 1930s. Its opening description of a young woman at a dance hall, who notices that the attractive stranger with whom she is dancing has cloven hooves, was read literally by naive readers, producing widespread fear and scrupulosity. One of Nash's books was an annotated edition of St Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual exercises, which formed the basis for his extensive activities as a retreat master; his guides to prayer, such as The priest at his prie-dieu (1949), drew on Ignatian techniques of visualisation and were widely used in the formation of seminarians.

From 1951 to 1985 Nash wrote a weekly column on religious matters for the Sunday Press, the first of its kind in an Irish newspaper; in 1954–85 he also published daily ‘Phone calls’ (brief sixty-word reflections) in the Evening Press. During lengthy visits to Australia in 1956–7 and America in 1964 he provided the editor with a year's columns in advance – an indication of his professionalism, his fluency, and the extent to which he saw himself as preaching a timeless and unchanging message independent of day-to-day events. He calculated that he had written more than a million words for his column; in its latter years he was often accused of manipulating readers through fear of hellfire, but this discounts his utter conviction of the reality of the danger and his own duty to warn against it. He asked much of his readers, but no more than he demanded of himself; his life was so focused on its central objective that all other pursuits seemed trivial to him.

Nash's greatest popularity occurred during the 1950s, when readers could see themselves as part of a triumphant worldwide church battling uncompromisingly for the faith delivered to the saints. He was ill at ease with many developments after the second Vatican council; he acknowledged that the new relaxed approach was helpful in winning souls who might previously have been antagonised, but feared that excessive toleration of heterodoxies within the church and downplaying formal ritual might blind people to their spiritual needs. He never appeared on television: ‘the typewriter was the instrument I knew best so I stuck with it’ (Irish Times, 22 Aug. 1989). In 1980 Nash was a founder member of the third world aid group Action from Ireland (AfrI).

Nash retained a faithful, ageing readership until he ceased to write his column in 1985, declaring that it was time to say ‘What I have written I have written.’ He intended My last book (1983), a combination of autobiographical recollections and advice on prayer, to live up to its title (it concludes with meditations on death and heaven). He was lured back into print by admirers urging that if another book saved one soul it would be worth while; in 1986 he published My last phone call. Nash spent his last years in the Jesuit community at Gardiner Street, Dublin, where he continued to hear confessions until a year before his death. Early in 1989 deteriorating health led to his transfer to Our Lady's Hospice, Harold's Cross, Dublin, where he died 21 August 1989.

The vast contemporary popularity of Nash's writings, whose structured and fervent certainties contrast with the colloquial soothings of later Irish religious columnists, says much about the enthusiasms and restrictions of late Tridentine Irish Catholicism. Nash lived to see the aspirations he embodied condemned, ridiculed, or forgotten by a generation with less restrictive lives, new horizons, and different aspirations; he himself was virtually forgotten within a few years of his death.

Robert Nash, My last book (1983); Evening Press, 22 Aug. 1989; Irish Press, 22 Aug. 1989; Ir. Times, 22 Aug. 1989; Irish Catholic, 24 Aug. 1989; Sunday Press, 27 Aug. 1989; Monsignor James Horan: memoirs 1911–1986, ed. Micheál MacGréil (1992)

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
Robert Nash joined the Society in 1919, and after initial Jesuit studies came to Australia and Burke Hall in 1925 as prefect of discipline and teacher. He loved his time there and was sorry to be recalled for theology in 1928.
He was later famous for his popular books on prayer, such as “Priest at his Pre-Dieu”, “Nun at her Pre-Dieu”, which caused a good deal of frustration among the intellectual professors who could not get their learned works published. His many pamphlets led Nash to being in considerable demand as a missioner and retreat director.
He returned to Australia, 1962-64, trying to start the popular Irish Mission, but it did not work. Nash gave house retreats at Watsonia, and amongst his points on one occasion he encouraged the scholastics to imagine the number of mortal sins being committed that night within a mile of the college. This taxed the imagination of the scholastics somewhat as the area within a mile of the college was still largely bush and farms. He must have considered the few farmers to be a sinful lot! Robert Nash remained productive in writing and preaching until almost the end of his life.
He was not lacking in confidence!