WHILE agreeing with P. O'Neill's complaint (February 12) that Gabriel Fallon can seldom find much that is right about Ireland, may I—as a reader who hails from neither England, Ireland nor Wales—add that he (Mr. Fallon) is not the only offender in your columns when it comes to rather carping criticism.
You, for example, Sir, chose Ireland as the mise en scene for the opening onslaught in your own column (Feb. 12). You compare the Duke of Kent's presence in Northern Ireland to an imaginary attempt by Cardinal Ottaviani to referee between the Pro Fide Group and the Catholic Renewal Movement.
Considering Cardinal Ottaviani's liturgical views — which are strongly opposed to those of the Pope — this would seem to imply that the Duke of Kent's loyalty to the Queen is in doubt.
Such, at least, is the confusing impression caused when one gets involved in clever-sounding analogies that don't quite add up. (Of course, I'm being purposely much too serious about a subject on which you chose to be much too flippant.)
also noticed that you could not resist a prophetic crack at the expense of Irish rugger players. They weren't very good it's true. Perhaps some English or Welsh worthies could outshine them when trying their hands at hurling?
R. B. Macdonald Chelmsford.
A baby's cry
WHEN Sir Keith Joseph's inquiry into the Abortion Act sits, I hope the members of the enquiry will listen to the screams of the child in the Glasgow incinerator case, the one victim of the Abortion Act who was heard, the one child who tried to defend himself. the one child who tried to hit back, the child who loudly affirmed that he was not "foetal jelly."
Oliver Twist helped Britain's orphans because he had a name; Uncle Tom helped American slaves for the same reason, and though the Glasgow baby had no name, he had a voice that must be heard; the voice of a helpless victim of a cruel law.
Anthony Grealish Enfield, Middx.