St. Knute, St. Joyce?

A zealous Jesuit and a poet with a substantial Catholic following is Rev. Leonard Feeney, 39, author of Fish on Friday, Riddle and Reverie, Boundaries. Dark, wiry Father Feeney taught English at Boston College from the time of his ordination nine years ago until he lately joined the Jesuit weekly, America, as columnist. As a guest preacher, he mounted the pulpit of Manhattan's St. Patrick's Cathedral the Sunday before Christmas and, conscious of the superb sounding-board which that great fane afforded him, sermonized on a subject which he had half-whimsically, half-seriously pondered. Said Father Feeney :

"We need saints who live in our own day, who are subjects of our own nation, who are members of our own parishes. Someone whose house we can point out and whose photograph we can show. Why shouldn't this city, this parish, give the world a saint? Why shouldn't there be some day a St. Michael of New York, St. John of The Bronx or St. Mary of Jersey City, just as there is St. Rose of Lima, St. Anthony of Padua and St. Francis of Assisi? . . . Pray for our first native American saint!"

Only candidate for Catholic canonization who lived in the U. S. at all recently is Mother Francis Xavier Cabrini (1850-1917) of Chicago (TIME, Sept. 18, 1933).

Of lately-deceased Catholics who might fit Father Feeney's specifications, and whose friends could be counted upon to push their saintly causes, the best known would be Wartime Chaplain Rev. Francis P. Duffy, Poet Joyce Kilmer (Trees) and Football Coach Knute Rockne. All are known to have lived impeccable Catholic lives; two met violent deaths. But no instance has yet been publicized of miracles having been performed through their intercession.

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