I Kiss the Blarney Stone
TT should be formally recorded for the 1 benefit of readers of these notes that the " Jotter " kissed the Blarney Stone at four o'clock in the afternoon of Sunday, November 20. What effect this will have on the C meiotic HERALD is uncertain, but I am assured by experts that it must be considerable. Others, however, who have read this paper carefully assure me that we have no need to acquire any more of the Blarney. There seems to be some sort of conspiracy behind it all because English visitors to Cork who are asked to lecture arc driven almost on landing to Blame)
Castle. My friend, Christopher Hollis, was the previous victim, and I don't know that he needs it either when on his subject of economics. Some of my charming Irish hosts were worried also by another thing: " A few years ago," they said, " you English Catholics hadn't a good word to say for us, and now we hardly dare ask you over because you smother us with such hero worship that we'll never get anything done at all with it all," The remedy for this, it appears, is to be turned upside down on the top of the Keep of Blarney Castle. Thank heavens they've railed off the horrid abyss!
A True Story
Among the many stories I heard during my short stay I select this true one as typical of that care-free Irish spirit which makes any decent person want to establish
his home over the water for ever, The person who told it to me explained that he and three other companions during a short visit to Ireland hired a car and drove in it without bothering to get any driving licence or other papers. Challenged by a policeman, they did their best to persuade him that their intentions had been of the hest. but with no success. He took out his note-book in order to enter their names. Suddenly he caught sight of the numberplate of the car—which needless to say had no reference to them—and exclaimed "It's
lucky for you that you come from Donegal Or I'd be taking your names down. Get along with you l"
loved Cork with its waterways breaking through at every angle, and its rows of soft. coloured Georgian houses at the water's edge, where their reflections were mingled with the gold of the setting sun. But I suppose that I shall remember best two modern churches—the University Chapel and the new Christ the King. The first is a Celtic Romanesque building of great austerity, in which all the work, carvings, windows, altars, stations, is of exquisite modern Irish workmanship. Christ the King reproduce, because no description could do it justice. I caught sight of it first as it stood in silhouette against an evening cloud like a fantastic staircase mounting to heaven. The inside is even more strange: vast hall bathed in half-tone purplish lights, the Icing narrow angular windows and panels all rising together to maintain he staircase motif. It may be somewhat ciiiiiiiscent of the Odeon, hut it is alive .ind streets above the bad gothic which preponderates in Irish churches.
The Biggest Whopper
EVERY so often during the course of the Spanish war, I notice what seems ea me the biggest whopper so far in the Press.
The latest, in view of its blatancy and lie status of the writer, takes some beating.
Last Sunday A. Ramos Oliveira, of the Spanish Embassy, signed his name to the following sentence: " Liberal principles and justice of an exemplary kind, open to the inspection of the world, flourish in Loyal Spain. So does religion, unintimidated by Fascist terrorism. If Lord Phillimore does not recognise that, the Vatican does."
And the Sunday Tinter published it! And on its Leader Pagel
'THE most exciting thing that has hap
pened to me this week has been the receipt of a little roughly printed magazine that begins with what seems to me a contradiction. ends with a misprint, and whose best article is a reprint.
None the less it makes a red letter date in British Catholic history. It is a review produced in a Catholic Public School, and it is called the Students' Distributist Re view. Ampleforth is the school. When Catholic schools begin to bring out reviews about politics and economics for the general public (with a Catholic supplement) we shall be well on our way towards action, whether it be called Catholic Action or not.
Who After All is Benvenisti?
Having said this and meant it, let me ask whether the second sentence is not a contradiction : " Distributism is not, of course, the only creed the Church allows its members to follow, but a Catholic State based on the principles of the encyclicals must be Dist' ihutist in so far as it follows those principles."
And at the end we strike again that puzzle once prominently asked in this paper, " Who is Mr. Benvenistir The puzzle grows for Mr. Benvenisti, of 25a, Tanza Road, now turns out to be Mr. J. L. Bennett! And why a letter from the Duke of Wellington and another from Mr. .1. L. Bennett or Benvenisti should appear at all I cannot fathom.
But these are signs of measles, and where there are measles there roust be life—which is more than can be said of most reviews and most public school activities.