Ryan (No. 3.) family genealogy

Of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.

Arms: Same as “Ryan,” No. 1, pp. 775-776, Vol. I.

The Most Rev. Doctor Ryan, Catholic Archbishop of Philadelphia, was born in Thurles, in the county Tipperary, on the 20th February, 1831. According to the Catholic Fireside for March, 1888, his Grace made his elementary and classical studies in Dublin, and afterwards proceeded to the well-known college of Carlow to pursue his philosophy and theology. He received Holy Orders in the year 1852, and in that year proceeded to America.

It is related that shortly after his arrival in the city of St. Louis, he was invited to dine with some priests of the city, when after dinner he recited in such earnest and pathetic strains the “Exile of Erin,”[1] that every eye around the table was in tears, and the young Levite and exile was enshrined in the love of their hearts. His merit and gifted powers were soon recognised, and he was at once made Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature in the Theological Seminary of Corondelet, a few miles out of the city. In 1854, he was ordained Priest, and soon distinguished himself as a hard-working missionary, and a powerful preacher. He built the Church of the Annunciation, of which he was pastor for many years. At the Second Council of Baltimore he was present as theologian to Archbishop Kendrick, of St. Louis; where he was specially invited to preach. After years of hard practical missionary work, as the pastor of a large congregation, he was consecrated titular Bishop of Tritcomia, and Coadjutor to the Archbishop of St. Louis. He then removed to the Cathedral, and acted as Vicar-General to the diocese. After some years he was promoted to the titular Archbishopric of Salamis, and was transferred to the See of Philadelphia, on the 11th November, 1884. He is now in his 57th year. He is a sound scholar, has the advantage of a commanding appearance, cultivated manners, with a strong forcible voice of singular musical and pathetic power. As an orator he has the irresistible fire of earnestness, his natural gesture and keen penetrating eye rivet and control the attention of his hearers. His imagery from nature, and facts from daily life, are sketched by a mind refined by the fire of God’s love, and by one who has a practical knowledge of the wounds of humanity.

The important part which his Grace has recently taken in the solemnity of laying the foundation-stone of the National Church of St. Patrick, in Rome, and the world-wide esteem in which he is held among English-speaking people, induce us to present to our readers this brief sketch of his life. In America, the scene of his apostolic labours, for a period of over 35 years, he stands in the front rank of the Catholic Hierarchy. His learning, his eloquence, and his long and successful missionary life, have won for him the universal honour and respect of all classes and creeds in the United States. Whenever he preaches or lectures, Protestants as well as Catholics flock to hear him, so that the largest building is unable to hold the audience that seeks to listen to the irresistible charm of his eloquence. What is a matter of more than ordinary occurrence was recently witnessed in Rome, in the great Church of St. Andræ delle Valle, when one of the most varied and critical audiences in Europe sat around the platform during the Octave of the Epiphany. English, Irish, Scotch, Americans, and men from afar, all speaking the English tongue, were there—Bishops, priests, students and laymen—with such different ideas of what ought to be the style and manner of pulpit eloquence: some with the remembrance of Wiseman, Manning, Spalding, and Ventura, standing on that self-same platform, in days gone by; yet, all agreed that the Most Rev. Dr. Ryan was a great and polished preacher, and that his discourse, in matter and manner, was an oration well worthy to rank amongst the most notable triumphs of sacred eloquence.

Would, that, in the Irish Hierarchy, Ireland, his dear native land, had the benefit of that eloquence!

Notes

[1] There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,

The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill,

For his country he sighed, when at twilight repairin’

He wandered alone by the wind-beaten hill.

But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion,

For it rose o’er his own native Isle of the ocean,

Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion,

He sang the bold anthem of “Erin-go-Bragh.”