Born: 01 October 1855, North Street, Newry, County Down
Entered: 28 October 1875, Milltown Park, Dublin
Ordained: 1888, Clongowes Wood College, County Kildare
Final Vows: 15 August 1895, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 27 September 1933, Milltown Park, Dublin
Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ
◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 9th Year No 1 1934
Obituary :
Father Henry Fegan
We owe the following to the kindness of Father E. Masterson :
Father Fegan was born at Newry, Co. Down, on October Ist, 1855. He received his early education at two Jesuit Colleges, at Clongowes, where he was for several years, and at Feldkirch, where he was for one year. He entered the Novitiate of the Irish Province on October 28th, 1875. After the noviceship and a little more than one year in the Juniorate he was sent as Prefect to Tullabeg in 1878. With the exception of four years, he passed the time from 1878 to 1901 either prefecting in the colleges or making his philosophical and theological studies , studies that were interrupted more than once, partly because of ill-health, partly because of the exigent demand for such an efficient prefect. Sometimes he combined prefecting with teaching , and whenever and whatever he taught he taught well. But it is as a prefect the that he is best remembered and most spoken of, and it is by his unbroken and uniform success as a prefect that his work in the colleges ought to be judged. Of that success let us take just one test case :
In the year 1886 the colleges of Clongowes and Tullabeg were amalgamated. The Tullabeg boys went in great numbers to Clongowes. The amalgamation caused a critical situation. Clonqowes had its oven history and traditions, and Tullabcg its own. It was natural to expect rivalries end jealousies between the two sets of boys. If such difficulties should arise who would compose them? That would be the Higher Line Prefect’s job, and Father Fegan was made Higher Line Prefect. Another daring experiment. For Father Fegan, a Clongownian to his backbone and spinal morrow, was wedded to Clongowes and the Clongowes traditions for a long term of years. Would such an enthusiastic Clongownian show himself duly impartial? Would he be able to hold the balance in equilibrium between Clongowes and Tullabeg, or would he be able to steer an even keel between Scylla and Charybdis? His superiors hoped that he would, and they were not disappointed. Father Fegan was pre eminently just to the Tullabeg boys. He was even generous. By tactful conversations, without at all interfering with their freedom of choice, he brought it about that a Tullabeg boy was elected Captain of the college. The most critical Tullabeg boy would not accuse Father Fegan of the very smallest partiality towards the Clongownians. The year passed without jar or jolt of any sort or kind. The amalgamation became a real union of the two sister colleges , a consummation which Father Fegan did much to achieve. Even in that critical year, his prefecting was a splendid success.
It was during the “Amalgamation Year” that Father Fegan was ordained priest in the old chapel of Clongowes , in which also he celebrated his first Mass on the following day. Always influential with his boys, his ordination added greatly to his influence, for from that time on he took his turn at preaching.
His sermons and bis Retreats were always distinguished by wonderful energy. Dr. O'Neill, late Bishop of Father Fegan's native diocese, speaking of the energy which he put into his
sermons, said : “It is not to be wondered at, for, if Henry Fegan were only playing a game of football, he would put every ounce of his energy into it.” Dr. O'Neill knew Father Fegan from his childhood, and his judgment of him was strictly true. Even if he tried to, Father Fegan could never act remissly - his whole heart and soul were in everything he did. In his sermons and Retreats he said things that no other man would or could dare to say, but no matter what he said, no matter how he said it, his words always stirred the consciences, and took lodgment for ever in the memories of his audience. Clongowes boys of over forty years ago still speak of his college sermons with rapturous admiration. One such boy, now a distinguished member of another Religious Order, said lately that he is still able to say by heart many passages of Father Fegan's Clongowes sermons. And priests and laymen who heard his Retreats in after years speak of them in terms of equal praise. A Parish Priest once said at the end of a Retreat : " I have made nine Retreats given by Father Fegan, and I would gladly begin a tenth Retreat to morrow with Father Fegan to conduct it.” Since his death every priest and layman who knew him is filled with a joyous regret, regret for their own loss, joy that God has called him to wear the crown of justice that the just judge had laid up for him.
In 1901 the long laborious spell of pretecting came to an end. In that year Father Fegan was made Spiritual Father at Clongowes to the community and to the boys. In 1939 he was transferred to Milltown Park. From 1909 to the day of his holy, happy' death on September 27th, 1933, he lived at Milltown Park, as Spiritual Father to the community, and as giver of Retreats to countless secular priests and laymen. God alone can tell the tale complete of his successful efforts to help both priests and laymen in their supernatural lives and one can hardly exaggerate when one speaks of their admiration of and gratitude to the giver.
Father Fegan's relations of more than twenty years with the Milltown Park Community were too intimate and sacred to be written about at any great length. He was dowered with many natural gifts to fit him for the work of his life. For his work in the colleges he was equipped with an extensive knowledge of boys and of schoolboy life. The youthful heart, whirls he kept to the end, always beat in sympathy with theirs. And in all manly games he was more than a match for the best of them. His generosity was superb - it is impossible for anyone who knew Father Began to think of him as refusing or shirking any work which was given him to do. But no accumulation of natural gifts can explain his unity eighty years of incessant
work in the Society. In his noviceship he specialised in devotion to the Sacred Heart, to our Blessed Lady and the saints, especially to the saints of the Society. In his domestic exhortations omitting, more often than not, the prefix “Saint”, he would speak of Ignatius and Xavier , of Aloysius, John Berchmans and Stanislaus. His conversation was in heaven
and so the Jesuit Saints were as real and as present to his thoughts as were the members of the Society amongst whom he lived and moved. To these latter he was a model of a well
ordered religious life. Not for a single day of his fifty-eight years in the Society did he abate, by one jot or tittle, his noviceship fervour. From the beginning he scorned delights and lived laborious days, He bore with unflinching courage and with humble submission the manifold bodily ailments with which God tried him in the closing years of his life. He never
complained. He was ever cheerful and kind. He never entirely rested from work. He celebrated Mass every day until within a week of his death - he said Holy Mass for the last time
on Monday, September I8th. He died on September 27th. May his soul rest in peace.
As Father Fegan's devotion to St Stanislaus Kostka was quite remarkably tender, this slight tribute is offered to his memory on the feast of his favourite saint.
◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973
Father Henry Fegan 1855-1933
Fr Henry Fegan, or “Fr Tim” as he was familiarly known for some unknown reason, will long be remembered for two reasons. First he was the ideal boys Prefect. Due to his tact and kindliness, the boys of Tullabeg and Clongowes were united in peace and harmony in the year of the amalgamation. Secondly, Fr Fegan was an outstanding retreat giver and spiritual director.
His career as Prefect finished, and after a few years here and there, he settled down in Milltown Park, where for more than twenty years he held the office of Spiritual Father to the community and retreat giver on the Retreat Staff. His name was a household word with priests and laymen throughout the length and breadth of Ireland. He was second to none as a retreat giver to nuns. In his sermons and retreats, he said things no other director would dare say, but his words always lodged in the conscience and were remembered years after their utterance.
His interior life was like a flame that glowed brightly until the end, which came peacefully on September 27th 1933, in his 78th year.
He was born in Newry on October 1st 1855.
◆ Irish Jesuit Directory 1934
Father Henry Fegan SJ 1855-1933
Henry Fegan, S.J., was born at Newry, October 1st, as the second son of his parents. His father had built up a large and flourishing business by his industry and the confidence he inspired, which won for him the creditable title in a wealthy merchant of “Honest Tom Fegan”. The considerable fortune he acquired went largely in charity. He built The Widows' Home in Newty, and did much unostentatious almsgiving. When the elder of his two children had been drowned, and Harry had left him for religion, the preoccupation of his later years became almost exclusively the practice of piety and the relief of distress. At his death a bishop preached his panegyric before a large congregation of mourners.
Henry was sent to Clongowes in 1867, and remained there till 1874. It was the Clongowes of pre-Intermediate days, which, if it lacked the stimulus of public examinations yet had a fine classical and literary tradition, and did impart to its pupils something of that older culture now passing from the land, without being replaced as yet by anything conspicuously superior. It had excellent libraries; and Henry Fegan always loved reading. He browsed widely amid their books, and early developed that taste for literature and historical biography which remained with him all his life. He excelled in declamation, and early showed his bent for public speaking. The debates in those days were more important and solemn occasions than they later became, and the boys prepared for them much more seriously. Henry Fegan threw him self into them with his characteristic zest, and the duel between him and John Redmond for the Clongowes Gold Medal for Oratory made the year 1872-3 stand out for a long time in the memory of the school. The medal went to Redmond; but both then and afterwards many thought the honours lay with Henry Fegan. He was also good at games, especially cricket, and ended by being Captain of the House. Yet he was so small that he used humorously tell how at a certain out-match the umpire quite justly declared him “Leg Before Wicket” to a ball that hit him on the head!
After his stay in Clongowes he was sent for a year to Feldkirch in the Vorarlberg, Austria. Shortly after his return he entered the Jesuit Noviceship, then at Milltown Park (October 28th, 1874). On the completion of this he began his studies, but very soon the shadow of that ill-health which was always to be his fell across his path and made the succeeding years of his life very kaleidoscopic in their changes of place and occupation. He began spitting blood. Later the story gained currency among the boys in Clongowes that he had only one lung: and they were proportionately impressed by the loud shouts he could send echoing across football field and cricket ground, encouraging them to play up. With or without the help of a second lung he did manage to put life into the games. He was to them what Fr. Daly was to studies, a sort of human dynamo communicating energy throughout the school. This aspect of his activity had its critics, as every aspect of every man's activity must have apparently. But he defended it energetically. He believed in games, not only as a device for keeping the restless energies of youth occupied and out of mischief, but as a very important element of character formation, He used to say that he felt at ease about the conduct of his charges when he saw them keen on their games, and vaguely uneasy when they grew indifferent. To those who claimed the games interfered with study, he would point triumphantly to the fact that when Clongowes did best in its out-matters it also did best in the Intermediate examinations. And he was insistent in his talks to his boys that games ceased with the sounding of the whistle and much more important duties began.
But his enthusiasm for his side of the school life was such that it could easily be mistaken. The present writer once said to him in later life : “As a boy I thought at first that football and cricket were more to you than the movements of the spheres”. He smiled and answered : “Well. in my own school-days I certainly enjoyed them. But prefect the sight of bat or ball often gave me a sense of pause, I had to labour hard at my priedieu before facing the playground, and my loud shouting was often a last resource to keep me from bursting into tears”. He had to labour hard at his prie-dieu before facing the play ground! How many of his youthful flock suspected that?
But we have not yet reached this part of his life, and we must return to what might well be called his Wander jahre. We find him studying Rhetoric in Clongowes (1877-78); acting as Prefect in Tullabeg (1879-83), and at Belvedere College (1883-84); studying Philosophy in Milltown Park (1884-85); reading Theology in Tullabeg (1885-86).
In 1886 he is once more switched off from books to prefecting, this time in Clongowes, where he soon had the delicate task of fusing the boys of Clongowes and Tullabeg, now arnalgamated, into one harmonious community - a task in which he succeeded admirably (with the help, as he always most gratefully acknowledged, of some splendid boys from both, whom he ever after held in unfading memory and affection). While so occupied he was ordained priest (1887), with much of his sacred studies yet to accomplish. Hence in 1888-89 he is catalogued as studying Theology at Mold. But in the following two years he acts as Minister in Clongowes.
The next year (1891-82) he is once agajn immersed in his Theology at Milltown Park. Between 1892 and 1894 he made his own Tertianship and acted as Socius to the Master of Novices in Tullabeg. In 1894 he returned to Clongowes as Prefect, a position he held till 1900. In 1901 he became Spiritual Father in Clongowes, and remained there till 1905, when he went in the same capacity to 86 Stephen's Green, the focus at that time of such communal existence as was possible to students of the late Royal University in Dublin. After a year there he spent a short time in Gardiner Street; but soon crossed the city to Milltown Park, which was to be home to a somewhat storm-tossed mariner for the rest of his life. Here he gave retreats to priests and layınen, and acted as Spiritual Father to the Scholastics and Community.
Such in outline was his career. But how little all these bewildering details give us of the man! And how hopeless must be every attempt to make his dynamic personality or complex character live again in the dead medium of print! Yet one would fain rescue something. “tam cari catritis”. The pity is it must be so little. Perhaps it will help towards clearness if we consider him first as a prefect of boys, and secondly as preacher, retreat-giver, and spiritual director.
As a prefect his outstanding characteristic was his devotedness. He spent himself in the services of the boys entrusted to him in a manner little short of heroic, calling upon a delicate frame and an enfeebled constitution for physical exertions that would tax the robustest health. Higher Line Prefect in Clongowes is at once a responsible, an anxious, and an arduous task, No one has more to say to the character training and moral formation of the pupils. He is pivotal for all that part of the school life which is not confined to class-room and study-hall. He has to supervise and answer for the conduct of nearly 300 youngsters while they are at recreation and at play, that is to say, when they are most likely to make trouble or get into trouble. He must be a disciplinarian, of course, with a firm wrist. But if he is only that he may be held in awe; he will not win confidence, affection, veneration, he will never exercise any beneficent influence.
Fr. Fegan, or “Tim”, the unexplained name he early acquired, was much more than a disciplinarian, for he somehow managed to acquire an ascendancy over the most wayward. He laid himself out to study the character of each individual with sympathy and tact. He had the art of making every little egoist - and how egocentric the boy in his 'teens can be - as if he were a special object of solicitude and his future career a matter of no small importance to the cosmos. . He did not give him too much piety to swallow, especially at the start. He knew the instinctive recoil of youth from “preaching”.
Even in his sermons - the best and most practical that the boys heard - he knew how to get down to their plane of thought and emotion. He did not pretend to assume hat they were all saints. He did not ask too much of them at a time. He showed that he knew and felt their difficulties and was only anxious to help, to make them find out and develop what was best in themselves. He reasoned with them about things in language that was often very homely, sometimes startlingly unconventional, but generally effective. When the word went round, “Tim is up to-night”, meaning that Fr. Fegan was to preach. there was a lively sense of expectancy in all. Even the few that would like to mock were at least compelled to listen; and with the vast majority “Tim” prevailed. He had periods of partial unpopularity, engineered by some malcontents. But they never lasted, and never survived the close of a term.
On one occasion he had a triumph which recalled in a certain way the story of a sermon of Savonarola's. He had preached on reading, and, among other things, begged them not to waste their time on, trash - Penny Dreadfuls and the like. In the after-supper recreation some youngsters half-jestingly, I fear-took out tattered copies from their pockets, tore them up, and threw them down under the corridor clock. The idea took on, and soon a hamperful of torn paper littered the ground. Fr. Fegan laughed at the scene; but he was not untouched; notwithstanding the fact that the young urchin who started the movement went up to him and said : “I had read mine three times over and was tired of it”.
More than anyone else in a devoted community, Fr. Fegan sought to replace father and mother for youngsters subject to the changing moods of adolescence. If he saw one looking glum or unhappy he would stop him on the corridor and rally him over it till a smile returned. In sorrow or affliction he could be singularly kind, and he was always scrupulously just. He had a peculiar way of dealing with “hard cases”. He would pretend to have been himself no end of a wild fellow in his day, who was capable of anything, had it not been that his Angel Guardian took him by the hair of the head and transported him in time to the noviceship. Or he would give some poor Ishmael who thought himself in everybody's bad books, a “tack” at a football match (to which a “feed” attached), to the amazement of all, particularly of the recipient. But. most of all, Fr. Fegan took pity on and thought for those luckless youths who, being somewhat uncouth, or ungainly, or unable to play games, lived isolated even amid a crowd. and were perhaps the object of others' raillery. These lonely ones found in “Tim” a real friend, and I have known a few such who in after life could hardly speak of him without something like a lump in the throat.
The first impression was that all this was just the natural character of the man. But soon there was borne in upon even the schoolboy's mind the realisation that something higher was operative than natural kindness. Without formulating it in words, even to himself, he became conscious that the boisterous prefect, cracking jokes, saying surprising and unconventional things, rattling keys to hurry things up, or shouting with force of three lungs instead of one to keep the games alive, was really and fundamentally a man of God, and at heart chiefly or only concerned with trying to make all understand that they had immortal souls to save. There was no mistaking the supernatural basis of his restless energy.
This alone would explain the pains he would take to help anyone who confided in him - by conversation while they were still under his care, by correspondence when they had left school and entered the larger arena of life. For he was a believer in the apostolate of letter-writing, He was a great correspondent, and many thousands of long epistles, in his fine calligraphy, must have followed his ex-pupils into every corner of the earth, often just to give such school and home news as might interest, oftener still to insinuate some words of encouragement or consolation in trial. Many a one only came in later years to appreciate how staunch a friend their old prefect really was.
As a result of his devotedness he won from most a life long remembrance, and from many an affection rising to veneration. This was very conclusively demonstrated at the Centenary Celebrations in Clongowes in 1914. At the dinner in the Gymnasium, where some 600 old boys were assembled, a scene took place which no one who it forget. Various toasts had been proposed and responded to, among others by John Redmond, just then at the very apex of his career, who made a most graceful and even eloquent speech. At length Fr. Fegan's turn came. But when he rose to speak pandemonium seemed to break loose. Nearly everyone sprang to his feet some mounted on chairs, all waved napkins or clapped hands, and round after round of cheering rose and fell for eight full minutes before he could begin. It was more than a possibility that such a reception, acting on a highly emotional nature, would have reduced him to tears, preventing him from speaking at all. And his first words were, indeed, tremulous; but he controlled himself, and for ten or twelve minutes treated the assembly to one of the happiest and most moving utterances even he ever made, a mixture of humour and pathos it would be hard to surpass. Then the cheering began again, and ended only with exhaustion. It was a personal triumph such as rarely occurs in the lives of men living far from the noise of crowds.
It was also I think, the amende honorable on the part of many for anxieties caused in less reflecting days, and for whatever lack of cordiality or understanding there might have been in that now vanishing past when the peculiar shyness or gaucherie of boyhood made a display of emotion impossible. It was the appropriate and merited epitaph on “Tim's” dead life. With this ovation the ex-prefect passed finally over to the Spiritual Father and Preacher and Retreat Giver, who would nevertheless not quite lose touch with his former subjects, but meet many again in a changed relationship.
It is far from easy to delineate him in his new capacity; for the most striking feature of Fr. Fegan's discourses was just his power of surprising his audiences. One never knew what to expect when he began, what strategy he would employ. He realised that a speaker's first duty is to arrest attention, and he had innumerable devices for doing so. It cannot be denied that these were some times almost disconcerting. Certainly they were novel, and they succeeded invariably in establishing control with his hearers and giving him an easy command me their attention for the rest of the time. Few ever slept while he spoke.
A priest who had heard it as a student once told me the story of Fr. Fegan's first retreat in Maynooth, the tradition of which still survives in parochial houses all over the land. He was as yet prefecting in Clongowes when he was invited to give it. At the beginning of the first talk he paused dramatically, looked around him stroked his chin - a favourite gesture - and broke out “Boys o' boys! Just think of it! Henry Fegan talking to the very elite of Ireland; the hope of the Church of St. Patrick; its future parish priests, professors, and bishops, already deep in the learning of the Schools! And who is Henry Fegan? Why nothing but an old Higher Line Prefect from Clongowes, with the clauber of the football fields still hanging to his heels!” This last touch so took the students that they nearly forgot the Presence and cheered. At least all sat up to listen, and from that on he held them in the hollow of his hand. When the retreat was ended he was inveigled over to the Aula Maxima, and received an ovation not unlike the one that was to greet him some years later in Clongowes, when the clauber had long been polished from his heels.
But it would be a mistake to imagine that Fr. Fegan's power derived solely from his unconventionality and raciness of manner. He was often most impressive when he read in quiet tones and without gesture of any kind one of those carefully-prepared and finely-written discourses he would sometimes give. Even when speaking impromptu he had a wide range of manner, while his influence as a speaker sprang most of all from his earnestness, from a zeal that was unmistakable, and a holiness that was manifest. Sometimes he exploited that dramatic skill which would have made him a successful actor had he taken to the stage. Some took exception to this and thought him histrionic. For some it was the least pleasing feature of his talks. But for many others, especially those who did not hear him constantly, his gestures, his animation, his amusing asides, his shrewd and sometimes very clever epigrams, were the chief part of his attraction. 'At any rate, whatever was the reason,
few speakers of his time had anything like the same power of addressing again and again the same audiences without palling.
Nor were these uncritical or uncultured audiences. With no class of listener had he more success than with the priests of Ireland, who, either in Milltown Park or in the diocesan retreats, nearly all heard him once, and many several times over. It is not too much to say that he made the reputation of Milltown Park as a House of Retreats, and won a place in the regard of the diocesan clergy second to none. With nuns and the various religious congregations he was not a whit less popular. It can safely be said that for over twenty years no retreat giver in Ireland was more in demand.
Curiously enough, he rarely entered a pulpit after leaving Clongowes For some strange reason he seems to have shrink from the ordeal. Yet he was splendidly equipped for success in the pulpit. Indeed, I have always thought that if only fate had been a little more propitious to him in those early years, and he had, after a due course of preparation, been dedicated to the pulpit, he would have been Ireland's greatest preacher since Fr. Tom Burke. Dis aliter visum. It can still be said that few men of his generation had a more persuasive tongue, or used it better for the glory of God and the good of souls. In spite of handicaps which would have reduced weaker wills to inactivity, ħe kept active to the end. Even when his voice failed he did not cease to preach; for nothing he ever uttered equalled in eloquence the example he gave in those years of gradual decline and crowding infirmities.
Saint is not a word to be lightly used. In its primary significance it means one possessed of sanctifying grace in life and death. And in this sense who can doubt it applied in a high measure to Fr. Fegan? But there is another more specific meaning which the Church for bids us to apply to anyone till her verdict has been sought and obtained. Let us abstain, then, from the word in this technical sense. But let us add that by those who knew him intimately it is as a man of God he will be remembered most; as one, who though always delicate, and later weighed down by four or five major maladies. yet never complained, never surrendered, never lost gaiety, not to speak of courage; who would meet sympathetic inquiries with a shake of his stick and the fantastic reply that he was “lepping”, when he was actually half crippled; whose kindness was in the philological sense catholic, ie., universal, embracing most of all the sick, the lonely, the sorely tried; who, with certain undoubted idiosyncrasies and limitations, was essentially and always. a man to trust, a man to honour, a man to love; the meeting with whom was for not a few the greatest external grace of their lives, as it is a simple duty of gratitude to add it was for him who pens these lines.
PATRICK J GANNON SJ
◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 28 : September 1983
FR HENRY FEGAN SJ
Fergal McGrath
One on our two octogenarian contributors to this issue of Interduse, Fr McGrath recalls the life and labours of a dedicated man who worked in the Colleges till 1909 and spent the remaining twenty-four years of his life giving retreats.
Fr. Henry Fegan died just fifty years ago, on the 17th September, 1933. În one sense his life in the Society of Jesus presents no particularly remarkable features. It was all spent on traditional ministries. For the first twenty years he was prefect in Tullabeg and Clongowes, with intervals for the usual studiesa, Then came six years as Spiritual father in clongowes, followed by twenty-four years as a retreat-giver in Milltown Park. But what was remarkable about this career was that Father Fegan carried out these traditional ministries superbly well.
He was born in Newry in 1861. His baptismal name was Henry, but during the greater part of his life he was universally known as “Tim”. I have never been able to ascertain at what stage or why this appellation began. Most probably it was bestowed on him by the boys during his prefecting days. He was sent to Clongowes at a very early age. The official record states that he was six, but other indications seem to show that he was eight. In any case, he was apparently well able to look after himself. In the Clongownian, 1934, Father George R Roche recalls a tradition that a Higher Liner, seeing this diminutive arrival, greeted him with a popular catch cry of the day: “Does your mother know you're out?” and received the reply: “Yes, and she gave me a penny to buy a donkey for sale?” The Higher Liner was to become the small boy's Rector at Clongowes and life-long friend, Father Matthew Devitt.
Harry Fegan, as he was then called, rapidly distinguished himself at Clongowes by his gift of leadership and athletic prowess, and was elected Captain of each of the three Lines in succession and Prefect of the Sodality of the Blessed Virgin. His future gift of oratony was fore-shadowed by the fact that he came second to his distinguished schoolfellow, John Redmond, in the competition for the Debate Medal. On leaving Clongowes, he spent a year at the Jesuit College of Feldkirch in Austria, and then in 1875 he entered the Society of Jesus at Tullabeg.
After a very short Juniorate, he was plunged into the work of prefecting, which was to last for twenty years. It is difficult, after the lapse of so many years, to give an idea of the extraordinary loyalty and enthusiasm which he inspired in the long succession of boys who passed under his care. During his lifetime, and indeed for many years after, the mention of his name would evoke affectionate praise from any old Tullabeg or Clongowes man one might happen to meet. Only recently one of my own community remarked in conversation that his father had had “Tim” as his Higher Line Prefect, and “adored” him.
A most remarkable manifestation of the power of father Fegan's personality was displayed at the time of the amalgamation of Clongowes and Tullabeg in 1886. It was, not surprisingly, a time of tension. The Tullabeg boys in particular, felt a sense of grievance. They knew nothing of the financial difficulties that seem to have been the deciding factor in the decision. All they knew was that their school had so much to be proud of. Its candidates had won distinction in the examinations of London University; its football and cricket teams had shown themselves a good match for the teams of local clubs; it had a flourishing dramatic society and orchestra (which on one occasion travelled together to Limerick and performed there for a week); it had its “rowing club” on the Grand Canal. It could be understood that the Tullabeg boys felt a. natural resentment at being apparently subordinated to what what appeared to them to be a far less distinguished establishment, and that there was a real danger of serious friction. In the end, all went well, and credit for the happy ending must largely be attributed to Father Fegan, who, though not yet ordained, was appointed Higher Line prefect. A Tullabeg man, Joe Donaghy, a well-known Belfast. Solicitor, writing on the Amalgaamation in the Clongownian of 1909, that all boys in general and the Higher Line in particular, were under the control of and in close contact with a Higher Line Prefect, for whom individually they would have gone through fire and water, A particularly critical issue was the election of captain of the school, which was then by vote of the Higher Line. Mr Fegan tactfully suggested to the Clongownians that they should do the big thing, with the result that they elected Jack Meldon, the former Tullabeg captain, and the Tullabeg boys responded by electing as second captain a. Clongownian, Richard Skerrett Volding. After his first year as a prefect, Mr. Fegan was ordained in the Boys' Chapel (now the People's Church), an event which even further increased his influence over the boys.
Many years later there was another outstanding manifestation of the esteem in which Father Fegan was held - this time by his past pupils. This was on the occasion of the centenary celebration of Clongowes in 1914. At that time Father Fegan had been some five years absent from Clongowes, but his memory was still fresh among the many generations of Clongowes and Tullabeg men who were present. At. the centenary banquet the most distinguished guest was John Redmond, then at the height of his powers as leader of the Irish party. He spoke, as always, most eloquently, and was applauded loudly. But then there came a spontaneous cry of “Tim! Tim!” and when Father Fegan rose to speak, the applause was tumultuous, dying down more than once only to burst forth again. It was some ten minutes before he could begin to speak, and when he had finished, it seemed again as if the applause would never end.
Father Fegan ceased his connection with the colleges in 1909, and, as has been said, passed the remaining twenty-four ye life giving retreats, mainly in Milltown Park, but also around the country. It was a complete change of work, but he brought to it the same gift of personality which had made him such a success as a prefect. He was in particular demand for priests retreats, and his reputation soon spread far and wide. In an obituary in the Province News Father Edward Masterson records a typical appreciation from a parish priest. “I have made nine retreats given by Father Fegan, and I would gladly begin a tenth retreat to-morrow with Father Fegan to conduct it!” In the Clongownian for 1934 there appeared a tribute by Mgr. James MacCaffrey, President of Maynooth, who had known Father Fegan for thirty years. A few passages may be quoted which give a faithful picture of their subject:
“I can say with truth that in my long experience in Maynooth no man ever succeeded in captivating his audience as did Fr. Fegan, and no man since or before made such a profound and lasting
impression.”
“Father Fegan's style was unique, his language simple. There was no sign of careful preparation. On the contrary at times he spoke as if he had given little thought on the subject and with a certain amount of disorder. But this was only apparent. No man prepared more carefully, not indeed in words but in ideas. His discourses were the fruits of his own earnest meditation. In the silence of his own room or kneeling before the tabernacle, he convinced himself of the truth that he was about to deliver to his audience, with the result that he spoke with the earnestness and enthusiasm that can come only from true conviction .... And what a realisation he had of the love, the mercy, the goodness of our Divine Lord. How he swept aside in his enthusiastic outbursts the cold formalities that are to be found in so many professional treatises on the spiritual life, and in his own homely but burning words would exclaim: “Man alive, boys, isn't He a grand Master to serve!”
I can supplement this testimony by a personal recollection that when Father Fegan, in his old age, felt obliged to refuse to give the Maynooth students' retreat, Mgr. Caffrey offered to supply all. the other lectures if Father Fegan would give one in the day.
Father Fegan was equally successful in the retreats for laymen which he gave regularly at Milltown Park. Mr. Leon O'Broin, in his recently published biography of Frank Duff, recalls the high regard in which Frank held Father Fegan, and how Frank constantly organised groups of government officials and Vincent de Paul workers to make retreats at Milltown. Mr. Ó Broin heard from Frank an anecdote concerning Father regan which still lives in the folklore of the Province. There was a retreat for a group of doctors, amongst whom his friends were rather suprised to see Dr. Johnny McArdle, well known as a brilliant surgeon and also as a bon vivant. As the retreatants were assembling, “Johnny” was heard to remark ruefully: “What the hell brought me here?” The query was reported to Father: Fegan, who delighted his audience by beginning the opening lecture with the words: “What the hell brought me here? Words taken from Johnny MacArdle”. He then proceeded to give an eloquent discourse. on the End of Man.
I may suitably conclude with a few personal reminiscences of Father Fegan. It will be realised that, after the lapse of more than half a century, they must be only fragmentary.
The first time I ever saw and heard him was when I was a small boy, before I went to Clongowes. My parents brought me to a Passion preached by him at St. Mary's, Haddington Road, our parish Church. I can recall nothing of the sermon itself, but I have a clear recollection of seeing a hospital nurse (nurses then wore a distinctive outdoor uniform) weeping openly at the preacher's moving description of our Lord's sufferings.
When I went to Ciongowes in 1908, Father Fegan was Spiritual Father to the community and boys. I was in a group of young boys who were being prepared for confirmation by him. An amusing incident comes back to me. In the course of one of the classes, a boy developed a persistant hiccup. Father Fegan stood it for some time but at last astonished us by addressing the sufferer in a thunderous voice: You impertinent boy. How dare you interrupt me! There was an awed silence, and the hiccup ceased like magic. Then Father Fagan addressed himself in his usual genial voice to a boy in the front row, Ned Coyne (later the brilliant Jesuit economist.)
“Ned, was I really angry with that boy?”
“NO, Father”, Ned was quick to reply.
“Then why did I pretend to be angry?”
“To give him a shock and cure his hiccup”.
A sigh of relief came from the class.
I entered the noviceship in 1913, and on a visit to me at Tullabeg, my father related to me how he had recently met Father Fegan in Dublin, and confessed to him that he was feeling somewhat lonely at the loss - at least temporarily - of his only son. Father Fegan's words of consolation were couched in a typically unexpected way. “Man dear, do you realise that that boy is going to be able to do something that Our Lady herself could not do - to say Mass”.
Another chance memory probably dates from the time when I was a scholastic in Clongowes, 1922-24. Father Fegan then stationed at Milltown Park, paid a visit to the school, and, strolling with some of us around the playing fields, came across a football match which was being played in a listless fashion by 2nd Division of the Third Line. Father Fegan, who had a very penetrating voice, proceeded to address a series of comical exhortations to the players, with the result that in a few minutes they were playing up as if their lives depended on it. No one but “Tim” could have carried off this little tour de force.
My last glimpse of Father Fegan is from the years I spent in theology at Milltown, 1924-28, when he was still at the height of his. powers as a retreat-giver and was also Spiritual Father to the community. I recall with what pleasant anticipation we looked forward to his domestic exhortations. They were usually startling in their originality and most inspiring. But Father Fegan's best exhortation was his own prayerful self. I remember how, being out for a country walk and turning the corner on a quiet road, we came suddenly on him. Characteristically, he was saying his rosary as he walked along.
I treasured for over sixty years the letter Father Fegan wrote me on the death of my father in 1923, but in a recent change of rooms it was lost amidst a confusion of papers. That I kept it so long is testimony of how deeply it moved me.
These scattered gleanings out of the recesses of memory hardly do justice to the great and holy man they recall. To recall them, however, has given me happiness and inspiration. I trust that they may, in some degree, do the same for my readers.
◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1934
Obituary
Father Henry Fegan SJ
Notice of Fr Henry Fegan SJ, would appear much more natural in the pages of the Clongownian than here, for Clongowes and Fr Fegan to many are almost synonymous. Still, for the sake of those who knew him in Belvedere we must not pass him over without at least a brief mention of the ending of his pilgrimage. Our readers of last year's number may remember an allusion to him by Mr Timothy Justice Sullivan ('84-91) who related that after one year only, Mr Fegan left this College in very bad health, in fact as everybody thought, he went away to die. His call did not come, however, and he lived to do such work that his name is held in grateful veneration by many thousands, especially of his “boys”.
The fiery enthusiasm and eager zeal so strange in so weak a frame were as evident in the “eighties” as in all the years until the end, and the memory of these his most noticeable traits is still vivid in the minds of those who knew him here.
We shall leave to Clongowes, which he loved so well, the task of writing fittingly of so remarkable a man. In one short sentence we shall sum up his tireless life he had great gifts and he used them greatly Surely few will have so many prayers from those whom he befriended!
◆ The Clongownian, 1934
Obituary
Father Henry Fegan SJ
Educated at Clongowes : 1867–1874
Entered the Society of Jesus : 28th Oct., 1875
Prefect at Clongowes : 1879-1883
Ordained Priest at Clongowes : 8th May, 1887
H Line Prefect at Clongowes : 1886–1888
Minister at Clongowes : 1889--1891
H Line Prefect at Clongowes :1894-1900 & 1901-1902
Spiritual Father at Clongowes : 1902-1906 & 1907-1909
Director of Retreats at Milltown Park : 1909-1933
Died at Milliown : 27th Sept., 1933
To write an appreciation for “The Clongownian” of the late Father Fegan would require a pen such as he himself wielded (witness his obituary notice of Father Conmee in “The Clongownian”, I910) and the present writer feels how utterly inadequate his efforts must be to discharge the debt that Clongowes owes to one who for so many years filled such a big part in its life as did Henry Fegan. As boy, Higher Line Prefect and Spiritual Father he spent in all over a quarter of a century in Clongowes, in addition to being for several years on the staff in Tullabeg.
He came to Clongowes as a very small boy in 1861 and the story has it that on the evening of his arrival, which was after the term had opened, a Higher Line boy, seeing for the first time the diminutive new arrival, accosted him saying, “Hullo ! does your mother know you are out?” “Yes”, was the reply, “and she gave me a penny to buy a donkey, are you for sale?” The Higher Line boy was later fated to be the small boy's Rector in Clongowes for many years and his life long friend - Father Matthew Devitt. During the five years that he spent as a boy in Clongowes Harry Fegan's powers at games and his gift of leadership were fully recognised, and he was elected captain of each of the three Lines in succession, an unusual distinction.
Some appreciations and recollections of these years by a few of his co-temporaries will be of interest to those who only knew him in later life. One writes “I first remember him when I was in Rudiments, and he was in Poetry, a slight delicate boy who played the games of the school as they should be played. When later he was elected Captain of the House he was indubitably the idol of the school. That year the Cricket XI was very strong, winning every out-match played”. How it became so strong is told us by one who is possibly its last surviving member, Sir Thomas Stafford. “It was as Captain of the XI that he was best known and idolized by us boys. He made a rather young and inferior XI into a match-winning team by means of enthusiastic leadership, for what ever Henry Fegar undertook, he carried out with his whole strength. We just obeyed him and the XI developed, won its matches, and the foundation was laid of the notable cricketing teams of Clongowes which carried all before them in the ensuing years. Our chief victory of the year was over a powerful Phoenix XI. Henry Fegan never forgot that match, it was his triumph as a leader, and he spoke of it to me only a few months ago with pride - it meant more to him than many of his greater successes in life to know that he had trained us boys and fashioned us into an instrument to obey his leadership. We see in this the boy being ‘Father of the man’. Success in the leadership of men, in what was an unusually successful career in bringing men to follow him, commenced in the playing fields of Clongowes. Henry Fegan was not a brilliant boy; the Holy Ghost gave him the gift of knowledge, but He made him gain it in pain and grief by means of hard work. Of all the successful men of his day at Clongowes I don't remember one who in later years reached his high standard of life or whose influence over men was greater. We have only to look at the crowded halls of Milltown Park when he gave his retreats to men to form an idea of the influence he exercised. One incident in his life at Clongowes, I know, gave him the greatest pleasure, it was his selection by the boys as head of the Sodality. He made quite as great a success of the Sodality as he did of the XI”.
Another schoolfellow presents a picture of him in what would have been his first year in the Higher Line. “He and I were almost invariably Captains of our different sides when the football matches between the Higher and Lower Lines took place, and, needless to say, feeling ran high and invariably disputes, to put it mildly, took place and were apparently ended on the tield of play. But that would not suit Henry by any means. We sat near each other in the Study Hall, I a few benches behind, and my dear Henry at once produced pen, ink and paper and addressed lengthy and vitriolic letters to me on the subject of the dispute on the football field, and tried to convince me that I was wrong and several sorts of fools, etc. I had to reply, of course, for the honour of the Lower Line but I was not in it with him when it came to the written word in which he was an adept”. Many of us who knew him afterwards can well imagine the scene.
The most coveted distinction in the Clongowes of those days was the Debate Medal Speeches were prepared with the greatest care and the merits of the rival orators were discussed by all. For many years afterwards the debates of 1873-4 were recalled as veritable battles of giants, for the issue lay between John Redmond and Henry Fegan. The medal was awarded to the former, but many thought that Fegan was the better speaker. Just forty years afterwards on the occasion of the College Centenary the “Past” had an opportunity of hearing and comparing the two great rivals of other days.
After completing Rhetoric Father Fegan left Clongowes and went to Feldkirch, Austria, where he spent a year. Shortly after his return to Ireland he entered the Jesuit Noviceship at Milltown Park, Dublin, on October 28th, 1875. He spent there two years, and then was sent to Clongowes to study Humanities, but his health did not allow him to continue his studies and in 1878 we find him in Tullabeg as Third Line Prefect, later to become Lower Line Prefect. He threw himself heart and soul into his work and things moved in whatever Line he had. His fellow Jesuits dubbed him “the Little Enthusiast”.
At that time the winters were very severe and there were long spells of frost. As there was no sheet of ice in the neighbourhood of the College large enough to allow of skating, the boys had to content themselves with sliding on the gravel playground, There was much emulation between the different Lines as to which should have the best “slide”, and consequently could travel furthest, but Mr Fegan's Lower Line always came off best, the secret being that during the night the Prefect had been out pouring water on their slide which by morning had become a sheet of polished ice. One other story connected with his time in Tullabeg may be recalled. As the College was dedicated to St Stanislaus, the feast of its Patron was always celebrated with special solemnities, including High Mass and sermon. On one occasion the preacher had failed to turn up on the morning of the feast and it looked as if there would be no sermon. This was more than Mr Fegan, who had a great devotion to St Stanislaus, could stand, so he offered to preach, the sermon. It was not unusual in those days in Tullabeg for a scholastic to preach as the Community contained only a very few priests. On this occasion, though he had had no time for special preparation, Mr Fegan preached a most eloquent panegyricon his favourite saint. How deep and characteristic was his devotion to St Stanislaus may be shown by a story that he once told the present writer. On one occasion during the vacation he was sailing in Carlingford Lough when the boat was caught in a squall and upset. Believing that all was over with him he prayed: “St. Aloysius”, then he corrected himself, “I beg your pardon, I mean St Stanislaus, help me”. He was a boy in Clongowes at the time but his devotion to the patron of his school was exceeded by his love for his favourite - the boy - saint Stanislaus.
When in 1886 the “Amalgamation” of Clongowes and Tullabeg was decided upon, it was recognised that the success of the fusion of the two schools would depend very largely upon the line of conduct adopted by those who would come most in contact with the boys, for there were distinct possibilities of trouble. Neither side liked the idea, We Clongownians were not inclined to look with friendly eyes upor the boys of a rival school invading oui most sacred precincts, possibily trampling upon our customs, introducing a foreign spirit and disturbing the quiet tenor of our lives. Nor were the Tullabeg boys more favourably disposed. They resented what they naturally looked upon as a slight upon their old school that not it, but Clongowes, had been chosen to survive Mindful too of the great fame that Tullabeg had won during and since the days of Father Delany's rectorship, they felt it hard that they should be merged into a school that held no such record. But these fears and forecasts were destined to be proved ill founded. In Father Conmee, then beginning his second year of office, Clongowes possessed a Rector who was ideal in the circumstances But after all, the Rector comes but little in direct contact with the boys, and in such a delicate situation the slightest friction might cause serious trouble the success of the experiment would depend not on the highest authority but on sub ordinates, and in Clongowes chiefly upon the Higher Line Prefect.
Fortunately there was at hand one who was specially and exceptionally suited to meet the occasion. During the previous year 1885-6, Mr Fegan had been in Tullabeg studying Philosophy privately. He had held no post of authority over the boy but had been in very close contact with them, especially with the leading boys o the school, most of whom came on to Clongowes in the following September. To the Clongowes boys he was of course no so well known. I had only seen him once on an occasion when he came on a short visit to Clongowes, but the word had gone round, and we were interested to see on of whom, especially of whose prowess at games, we had all heard. Evidently the “Fegan was the name and Fegan was the man”, the hero-captain of Clongowes of some dozen years before, and the friend and confidant of the Tullabeg boys of the day. Who else united in himself such qualifications? So, though not yet a priest he was entrusted with the important post of Higher Line Prefect of the amalgamated colleges of Clongowes and Tullabeg. On him would chiefly depend the succes or failure of the great venture.
One of the first matters to be decide was: who would be Captain of the school in Tullabeg the choice of captain was absolutely in the hands of the Higher Line Prefect. In Clongowes he was elected by the boys of the Higher Line. It was decided to continue the Clongowes custom of election. The Tullabeg Captain of the previous year had come on to Clongowes. He was Jack Meldon, an outstanding cricketer even at that time. The Tullabeg boys were in a considerable majority in the Higher Line hence they could easily have elected the boy of their choice. Had the voting been on party lines rivalry and jealousy would have ensued which would have caused lasting friction and unpleasantness. However when the election came off it was found that the Tullabeg boys were refraining from voting and the Clongowes boys unanimously elected Jack Meldon. An influence had been at work behind the scenes with the result that the term started in a spirit of harmony and good-fellowship that lasted throughout the whole year. It is needless to say what the influence was that had been at work. With what painstaking effort the Prefect worked to bring the boys of the two schools together! The writer can give his own experience. He was appointed gamekeeper, representing the Clongowes interest. His confrère from Tullabeg was Charlie Moore. Neither at first knew the other, but in a short time, as a result of the same influence, we became the closest of friends. How would things have gone had the Prefect been other than Mr Fegan? It is hard to tell, but if one episode be typical, they would not have gone well. That winter there was heavy frost and the Clongowes boys who had had the advantage of a pond close to the college showed themselves very much better skaters than the Tullabeg boys who had not had the same opportunities. It happened that during the skating time Mr Fegan was taken ill and confined to bed. His place was taken by a member of the community who was considered by the Tullabeg boys as being partial to Clongowes. The word now went round among them that he had made some disparaging remarks about their skating powers. They retaliated by starting a kind of boycott of skating. Things looked serious, but were righted when Mr Fegan left his sick bed and resumed his place at the helm.
In the May of that school year the boys had the pleasure of seeing their Higher Line Prefect ordained in their chapel by the Most Rev Dr Donnelly, Bishop of Canea. An address, which is still to be seen in the parlour of the Infirmary, was presented to him on this occasion. On the next day he said his first Mass at the High Altar and the writer was one of those who were privileged to serve it.
The next year, 1887-8, Fr Fegan rernained as Higher Line Prefect and Father James Daly came to take over the charge of the studies, and the combination of these two, so exceptionally gifted, yet so different in their ways, continued almost unbroken for fourteen years.
In 1902 Father Fegan exchanged the life of Prefect for the more congenial one to him of Spiritual Father. Though during all the years of his Prefectship he had been apparently immersed in games and kindred matters, he had been leading a most spiritual and even mortified life. He had ever worked for the glory of God. He had spent whatever spare time he had in reading, which would help him in preaching and giving retreats. He read very carefully, taking copious notes of what he read. In after years many of the striking and apparently impromptu passages in his sermons and lectures were suggested by what he had read and noted at his table in the Higher Line Prefect's room.
As Spiritual Father he mixed a good deal with the boys in order that they might get to know him and have confidence in him. He took a special interest in their games, and “Father Fegan and his umbrella” were familiar sights on the touch-line, and his voice, produced by the mythical “one lung” was to be heard all over the grounds (some said as far off as Clane itself,) especially when he encouraged the Lower Line in their efforts to win their cup matches against the Higher Line. On winter evenings parties of Third Liners loved to assemble around his fire, while he told them stories in his own inimitable way.
He was now able to preach much oftener than previously, and his sermons and sodality talks to the boys were eagerly looked forward to, when the word went round that “Tim is up to-night”. He had a most original and gripping way of putting things, and “Boys O' Boys” or “Boys dearest isn't it grand” was sure to rivet their attention on some truth which he wanted them to take away with them. The “People's Church” too, used to be crowded those Sunday mornings, and many a homely truth, such as the necessity of keeping windows open so as to ventilate the houses, or of the women folk having the supper ready for "himself" when he came home after the day's work, was conveyed to them together with wonderfully told lessons from Our Lord's life. These sermons are still talked of around Clongowes.
The year 1909 saw the severance of Father Fegan's long connection with Clongowes, as in that year he was transferred to Milltown Park, Dublin, there to act as Spiritual Father to the Community and to conduct the retreats that are given to priests and laymen. In this latter work he was singularly successful and the influence that he exerted, especially by means of the week-end retreats was widespread. None, however, were more welcome than those who had been in Clongowes, and on tlone was he more anxious to spend himself. This work for the “Past” by word or with pen was almost the only connection that he had with the old school during the last twenty-four years of his life. Though Clongowes was so much in his thoughts, very seldom did he visit it. One visit, however, stands out pre-eminently. It was when the College celebrated its Centenary and he was asked to reply to the toast of the College to be proposed at the Centenary Dinner by John Redmond, MP. The dinner was held in the gymnasium and there were seated at the tables, besides Cardinal Logue and several Bishops more than 600 old boys. When John Redmond rose to propose the toast of the College he was greeted with tumultuous applause. He was just then at the summit of his fame. His life's ambition had been realised, for Home Rule had just been put upon the Statute Book. His speech was worthy of the great orator that he was. Worthy of his high position, and worthy of the occasion, the honour of his Alma Mater which he loved with an almost passionate devotion. But eloquent though he was and enthusiastic as was the reception that he met with, the scene while Father Fegan was on his feet was even more wonderful. Never had he spoken with so much pathos and with such power and eloquence, and the enthusiasm both before and after his speech was indescribable. For almost ten minutes on each occasion it lasted, dying down more than once only to burst forth again. This his last public appearance in Clongowes had been of the nature of a personal triumph showing how attached to him were the Clongownians of so many generations.
In striking contrast was his last visit to Clongowes which took place about two years ago. He came down one afternoon for a few hours and was present at Benediction in the College Chapel. Few of the boys noticed, and none recognised the old priest who was kneeling at the back of the chapel, nor did he know them individually, but they were to him the dearest thing in life, Clongowes boys. He remained kneeling until the last Third Liner had passed out, and when he arose tears were in his eyes. He told the Rector how he had prayed for them during the Benediction, prayed for their fathers and uncles whom he had known, and for all “their dear ones”. He who prayed thus fervently before The Presence in the school chapel for Clongowes and its boys will surely pray with still greater earnestness and far greater efficacy in the fuller Presence, which he now enjoys. It is but natural to link his name with that of one better known to recent generations of Clongownians, his successor in the office of Spiritual Director, Father John Sullivan, who died last year. In the persons of these two holy souls, Clongownians have powerful friends and inter cessors to present their petitions before their Father in Heaven.
Father Fegan's funeral in the Church of St Francis Xavier, Dublin, was attended by a very large number of Clongownians for whom special places had been reserved. After the Mass the coffin was borne down the church to the hearse by the officials of the Clongowes Union, and in Glasnevin from the mortuary chapel to the grave in the Jesuit plot by the boy Prefects of Clongowes. How fitting these last tributes to one who had borne in his heart Clongowes and her boys, Past and Present, for so long,
May he rest in peace.
Geo R Roche SJ
-oOo-
Fater Henry Fegan : The Retreat Giver
It is now close on thirty years ago since I first heard the late Father Henry Fegan. Dr Mannix, who was then President of Maynooth, had invited him to give the Retreat at the opening of the academic year.
His fame as a preacher had already preceded him, and it was with the greatest interest I looked forward to his opening discourse. Nor was I disappointed. But unfortunately after the first day his voice, never strong and slightly overtaxed by the dimensions of the college chapel, failed and it was necessary for him to seek for assistance among his colleagues of the Society.
The following September, however, he returned, this time in perfect form, and conducted the Annual Retreat without the slightest sign of fatigue.
On many occasions since then, until the state of his health forced him to refuse the most.pressing invitations, he conducted the spiritual exercises at Maynooth. Indeed, if the wishes of the community had been followed and if his own engagements had permitted it, no other person should have been invited
I can say with truth that in my long experience in Maynooth no man ever succeeded in captivating his audience as did Father Fegan and no man since or before produced such a profound and lasting impression.
Father Fegan's style was unique, his language simple. There was no sign of careful preparation. On the contrary at times he spoke as if he had given but little thought to his subject and with a certain amount of disorder. But this was only apparent. No man prepared more carefully, not indeed the words, but the ideas. His discourses were the fruits of his own earnest meditation. In the silence of his own room or kneeling before the Tabernacle he convinced himself of the truth of the message he was about to deliver to his audience with the result that he spoke with the earnestness and enthusiasın that can come only from conviction.
Father Fegan was not and never attempted to be an orator in the technical sense of the word. Probably he was all the better for that, for the effect he produced was much more lasting than that of mere oratory. He spoke not for the ear of the moment, but for the mind and afterthought, He held his audience spell-bound, but it was not the over-ruling, dominating spell binding of the orator, but it was the spell binding of a wonderful personality, whose whole being was quivering with intense realisation of the message he was conveying, and who was stamping the impress of his own mind on the minds and hearts of his hearers. And what a realisation he had of the love, the mercy, the goodness of our Divine Lord. How he swept aside i
