The Moral Scope.
The object of education is the harmonious development of the _whole_
man. So far we have spoken of the development of the intellect. Yet
the _will_ needs training even more than the intellect, and the higher
schools ought not to neglect this most important part of the work of
education. It cannot be gainsaid that the emphasis laid upon moral
training forms the most marked distinction between the true educator
and the mere instructor, of whatever creed he may be. At the same time
it is one of the most disquieting features of our age that so many
teachers in the higher schools have lost sight of this fundamental
principle of education. “I hold,” writes Dr. McCosh, “that in every
college the faculty should look after, not only the intellectual
improvement, but also the morals of those committed to their care by
parents and guardians. I am afraid that both in Europe and America all
idea of looking after the character of the students has been given up
by many of our younger professors.”[898]
The inevitable consequence of this method must be a decline of
morality among the rising generation, or to put it more mildly, and
to use the expression of some writers, a lamentable disproportion
between the intellectual and moral progress. The existence of this
disproportion is attested to by men who have hitherto been rather
optimistic about the educational conditions of this country. Thus
President Eliot has quite recently expressed himself very frankly
on the “failure of our popular education.” In spite of the greatest
efforts of various agencies towards checking vice in every shape, he
sees small results. His practical conclusion is that “we ought to
spend more money on schools, because the present expenditures do not
produce all the good results which were expected and may be reasonably
aimed at.”[899] Still, it is more than doubtful whether an increased
expenditure is the needed remedy; it is not lack of money, but lack
of the true method of education, which is at the root of the failure
of education. This has been correctly observed in several comments
on President Eliot’s indictment. The defects of our people, says the
Chicago _Chronicle_, lie “in morals rather than in intelligence.”
And the Columbia _State_ remarks: “It will at least be difficult to
point at any fatal exaggeration in this arraignment. But is it fair to
charge all of it up to education? Would it not be better for Harvard’s
President to revise his views as to the power of education? Learning
of itself, the mere accumulation of knowledge, can not make morally
better an individual or a society. It is unfair to expect so much.
Education of the mind may be a help, since it does fit the individual
to understand, to distinguish right from wrong and to apprehend the
consequences of evil. But education ought never to have been regarded
as an insurance against immorality, a preventive of crime, a cure
for cupidity, or a guaranty that the Golden Rule will be observed.
The education that brings this about must be more than a mere mental
training; it must be moral and spiritual.”
These comments touch the sore spot in modern education. The capital
error of most school reformers lies in this that they expect too much
from intellectual accomplishments for the moral and social improvement
of mankind. Every second word of theirs is: culture, knowledge,
science, information; and yet, what is far more needed is a reform
of character by training the will.[900] The plausible assertion:
“Instruction is moral improvement,” a principle which is repeated in
many variations, is false. The neglect of the religious and moral
training is the result of a false philosophy; for, there exists the
closest connection between philosophy and pedagogy, so much so that
a false philosophy necessarily leads to a false pedagogy, and that
a false pedagogy is always the outcome of a false philosophy.[901]
Pedagogy, according to the very derivation of the word, means “the
guiding of children;” in order to guide them properly it is necessary
to know clearly the end and goal which is to be reached. The end of man
can be known only from his true nature, and this knowledge is supplied
by philosophy. Philosophy, then, which is to be the foundation of
sound pedagogy must correctly answer the important questions: _Whence_
and _Whither_? If as the foundation of education a philosophy is
chosen which gives a wrong answer to these momentous questions, the
children will be led in a wrong direction. Now, that philosophy which
considers man merely a highly developed animal, which sees in the
human mind nothing but another “aspect” or “phase” of the body (Bain,
Spencer, and others), and consequently denies the spirituality and
immortality of the soul--such a philosophy (if it deserves this name)
cannot assign any other end and object of man’s life than some form of
hedonism or utilitarianism. Unfortunately this philosophy has exerted
a disastrous influence on many modern educational theories. It has led
to the separation, more or less complete, of education from religion,
and as we shall show hereafter, a solid moral training is impossible
without religion. There is only one system of philosophy which can form
the sound basis of true pedagogy, and that is Christian philosophy,
that philosophy which is in harmony with the revealed truths of
Christianity. This philosophy alone gives the correct answer to the
all-important _Whence_ and _Whither?_ It tells us that the soul of
the child is a spirit, created by a personal God to His own image and
likeness, and destined for an eternal happiness in heaven; it tells us
that this life is not the final stage of man, but a journey to another,
higher life; that “we have not here a lasting city, but seek one
that is to come.”[902] A system of education based on this Christian
philosophy will widely differ from those systems which are built up
on “modern” philosophy, be it German pantheism, French positivism, or
English and American agnosticism. The most essential difference will be
this that in a Christian system the intellectual training is considered
secondary and subordinate to the moral and religious training, whereas
all other systems aim at a purely secular education, and in this again
lay special stress on the intellectual, to the neglect of the moral
training.
It has frequently been observed that the spirit of our age manifests
many pagan tendencies. The utilitarian trend of modern education is
undoubtedly a sort of neo-paganism. To the artistic mind of the Greek
the “Beautiful” (καλόν) and the “Good” (ἀγαθόν) were terms almost
synonymous. Greek education, accordingly, aimed at the harmonious
development of body and intellect for this life. In the eyes of the
Roman, the Eternal City was destined to conquer and rule the whole
world. To make useful and devoted members of that mighty political
fabric was the sole aim of the education imparted to Roman youths. But
the aim of Christian education must be far different. Christ’s life
and teaching cannot be ignored and disregarded. His “seek ye first
the Kingdom of God and His justice,”[903] must be the foundation of
all educational principles, “for what doth it profit a man if he gain
the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul?”[904] Therefore,
if “the fear of God is the beginning of all wisdom,”[905] the moral
and religious training of the young must claim the special attention
and care of the teacher. Whereas Greek education affected only the
intellect (νοῦς, _mens_), Christian education affects the soul,
(πνεῦμα, _spiritus_) as contrasted with the body, the “flesh” (σάρξ,
_caro_). Pagan education aimed at mere _formation_ (_Ausbildung_), at
the evolution and development of the natural man; Christian education
aims at _transformation_ (_Umbildung_), at change, at elevation.[906]
Every one, free or slave, rich or poor, white or black, is a child of
God and destined to be an heir of heaven. Therefore, he is to seek
first heavenly things: “_Quae sursum sunt quaerite, quae sursum sunt
sapite, non quae super terram._”[907] He must “put off the old man
who is corrupted, and put on the new man who, according to God, is
created in justice and holiness of truth.”[908] He must listen to
Christ’s commendation of humility, meekness and purity, and follow
His stern command: “_Abnega temetipsum, tolle crucem et sequere
me_: Deny thyself, take up thy cross and follow me.”[909] But this
is not in accord with the natural inclinations of man; therefore,
_transformation_ is needed. The work of transformation must begin
from the awakening of reason and must be the principal object in all
education. For, as the _Following of Christ_ has it, “when Christ our
Master, comes for the final examination, he will not ask how well we
spoke and disputed, but how well we lived, _non quid legimus, sed quid
fecimus, non quam bene diximus, sed quam religiose viximus_.”[910]
In the “school of the heart” at Manresa, Ignatius had thoroughly
grasped these sublime lessons. He had carried them out in his own
life and made them the guiding principles of his Society. In his
_Spiritual Exercises_, Ignatius has laid down a brief, but most
comprehensive epitome of Christian philosophy. There he has expressed
the whole purpose of man’s life in these few lines: “Man is created to
praise, reverence and serve God, and thus to save his own soul. All
other things are created for the sake of man, and to aid him in the
attainment of his end; therefore he should use them only with this
object, and withdraw himself from them, when they would lead him from
it.” Apply this principle to learning, to knowledge, and you must admit
that these are not man’s ultimate end, they are only means to that
end. Throughout the educational system of the Society, we find the
application of these truths. Thus the Fourth Part of the Constitutions
says: “Since the object at which the Society directly aims, is to aid
its members and their fellow-men to attain the ultimate end for which
they were created, learning, a knowledge of the methods of instruction,
and living example are necessary.” In the Ratio Studiorum the first
rule of the Provincial reads: “It is one of the most important
duties of the Society to teach all the sciences, which according to
our Institute may be taught, in such a manner as to lead men to the
knowledge and love of our Creator and Redeemer Jesus Christ.” Of like
import are the first rules of the Rector, the Prefect of Studies and
the professors of the various grades. This great care which the Society
has always bestowed on the moral and religious training of its pupils,
is probably the reason that accounts for the popularity of its schools.
Christian parents felt assured that the spiritual welfare of their
sons would be most diligently attended to, and so sent them with the
greatest confidence to Jesuit colleges. More than once have parents
give expression to their sentiments on this point. The testimony of one
American father, the distinguished convert from Protestantism, Orestes
Brownson, may be given as an instance among many. “We ourselves have
four sons in the colleges of the Jesuits, and in placing them there we
feel that we are discharging our duty as a father to them, and as a
citizen to this country. We rest easy, for we feel they are where they
will be trained up in the way they should go; where their faith and
morals will be cared for, which with us is a great thing. It is more
especially for the moral and religious training which our children will
receive from the good fathers that we esteem these colleges. Science,
literature, the most varied and profound scholastic attainments,
are worse than useless, where coupled with heresy, infidelity or
impurity.”[911]
However, the Society has been blamed by some for insisting too
strongly upon moral and religious training, and for subordinating to
it everything else. But how can any one who believes in the existence
of God and an eternal life, find fault with this principle? If there
is a God, if man has an immortal soul, if there is an eternity of
happiness awaiting the good, and an eternity of punishment the wicked,
then the “one thing necessary” on earth, and to be aimed at above
everything else, is the salvation of the soul. Hence it is that men,
who in their religious tenets widely differ from the Jesuits, could not
help praising the latter for the attention they paid to the moral and
religious education of their pupils. From numerous testimonies we may
be allowed to quote a few. “As might be expected,” writes Quick, “the
Jesuits were to be very careful of the moral and religious training of
their pupils.... Sacchini writes in a very high tone on this subject.
Perhaps he had read of Trotzendorf’s address to a school.”[912] In
1879 an anti-clerical paper wrote about the Belgian higher schools:
“Could not our teachers do a little more for discipline? Could
they not watch more diligently over the manners and morals of the
students? How often do we hear people say: ‘What, I send my son to the
_Athenées_?[913] God forbid! Fine manners he would learn there!’ Now
there is no reason why the young should acquire worse manners in the
_Athenées_ than in the Jesuit schools--on the contrary. However, in
point of fact, only the Jesuits look after _education_, whereas our
_Athenées_ busy themselves only about _instruction_. I know full well
that the education imparted by the clergy is bad, even dangerous. Our
lay teachers should pay more attention to _education_, as it is exactly
this training, however detestable, which brings to the men in the
soutane the patronage of so many parents.” M. Cottu, a bitter enemy of
the Jesuits, had to acknowledge the same.[914] Professor Kern of the
University of Göttingen, a Protestant, wrote years ago: “The Jesuits
attack the evil at its root: they educate boys in the fear of God and
in obedience. Has it ever been heard that from Jesuit schools doctrines
come forth similar to those of our modern schools? History has proved
that irreligious and anarchistic doctrines spread rapidly after the
suppression of the Society. Faith and science were no longer united.
Reason with all its errors,--and what error is so absurd that has not
had its defenders--was given the preference, faith was abandoned,
ridiculed, and spoken of only under the name of superstition.”[915]
By what means do the Jesuits endeavor to effect the moral training
of their pupils? We may classify the means they employ under four
heads: the example of a virtuous life, reasonable supervision, ethical
instruction, and certain means provided by the Church, especially the
sacraments. As to the first we all know that example is much more
powerful than words, particularly so with the young. There is a great
truth in the old Latin adage: _Verba movent, exempla trahunt._ Every
teacher, therefore, should lead such a life as to be able to say with
the great teacher of the Gentiles: “Be ye followers of me as I also
am of Christ.”[916] Above all ought this to be the case with teachers
who make a profession of religion. The life of a religious is one of
continual self-denial. St. Ignatius seems to have thought that daily
contact with men of this stamp would be good for boys. He seems to
have thought that in course of time they would assimilate some of that
spirit of conscientious devotion to duty, of generous readiness to go
far beyond the limits of mere duty, of the manful and noble spirit of
self-control and self-sacrifice, of that spirit which seeks not self
but the good of its neighbor, that spirit which the pupils cannot help
seeing exemplified in their masters, if those masters are such men
as St. Ignatius intended them to be.[917] Now, St. Ignatius was very
explicit on the necessity of setting a good example, and the Ratio
inculcates the same in exhorting the teacher to edify the pupils by the
example of a virtuous life.[918] Have the sons of Ignatius come up to
the expectation of their father? Even the enemies of the Order could
not help expressing their admiration for the moral purity of the lives
of the Jesuits.[919] Nor can we wonder at this. The solid training in
religious life, which we described in a previous chapter, and the daily
practice of mental and vocal prayer, must give the religious teacher
a self-control that preserves him from the more serious outbreaks of
passion, which may prove detrimental to his authority and ruin all
salutary influence over his pupils.[920] Professor Paulsen observes
in regard to the Jesuit teacher: “According to an old saying, he is
strongest who overcomes himself. This may mean not only that the
greatest effort is needed to rule one’s self, but that he who is able
to do so possesses the greatest strength. Now it is my conviction that
there was never a body of men who succeeded better in controlling
natural inclinations, and in checking individual desires, than the
Jesuits. True, such qualities do not make one amiable; no one is
amiable who is without human weaknesses. Perfect absence of passion in
a man makes him awe-inspiring and causes others to feel uncomfortable
in his presence.” Then he adds: “That the Jesuits up to this day are
masters in the great art of checking anger, and thus masters in the
great art of ruling over men’s souls, the reader may learn from a
book written by a pupil of the Jesuit college of Freiburg and of the
_Collegium Germanicum_ in Rome, who afterwards became a Protestant
minister, and who vividly and truthfully describes the impression made
upon him in these Jesuit institutions.”[921]
In addition to these testimonies, it will not be superfluous to cite
the testimony of prominent men who as pupils in Jesuit colleges had
an opportunity of watching the Jesuits closely. The first witness is
Voltaire: “During the seven years,” he writes, “that I lived in the
house of the Jesuits, what did I see among them? The most laborious,
frugal, and regular life, all their hours divided between the care they
spent on us and the exercises of their austere profession. I attest the
same as thousands of others brought up by them, like myself; not one
will be found to contradict me. Hence I never cease wondering how any
one can accuse them of teaching corrupt morality.”[922]--From Germany
three men may be quoted who are considered, by friend and enemy, as
equally distinguished for gifts, for noble character, and for genuine
patriotism: von Ketteler, von Mallinckrodt, and Count Ballestrem. It
was in the early days of the _Kulturkampf_, when the laws for expelling
the Jesuits from Germany were being discussed, that among others, these
three stood up to defend the persecuted Order. Freiherr von Ketteler,
the celebrated Bishop of Mentz, testifies: “As a youth I was sent by
my parents to an educational institution of the Jesuits, where I spent
four years. From home I brought with me such independence of character
and such purity of morals, that had I noticed a shadow of what the
world styles Jesuitical principles, I would have turned away from
them with loathing and disgust. My parents, who enjoyed an entirely
independent position in life, and who were filled with the purest and
strongest love for their children and their true welfare, would not
for a moment have left me in that institution, had they apprehended
anything of the kind. There I witnessed nothing that ever shocked my
youthful spirit trained in the purest principles of Christianity. I
took leave of all my teachers with deepest reverence and with the
firmest conviction that they were men who daily made on themselves the
demands of severest morality.”--Similar testimonies were rendered by
Herr von Mallinckrodt, that chivalrous spirit who, with perhaps the
exception of Windthorst, was the greatest man in that grand Catholic
organization, the German Centre Party. And Count Ballestrem, now for
several years President of the German _Reichstag_, commenced one of his
speeches before that assembly with the following words: “The last time
I had the honor to address you here, I defended an institution which
has become dear to me, and in which I have spent a great part of my
life, the Prussian Army. To-day I come to defend an institution which I
have known from the days of my childhood, and with whose excellences I
am acquainted in every detail. I come to bear witness for my venerable
teachers, for my highly esteemed friends: for the religious of the
Society of Jesus.”[923]
Undoubtedly the testimony of these men, who with the keen eyes of boys
that so readily find fault with their teachers watched the Jesuits
and scrutinized their every word and action, outweighs a thousand
calumnies of prejudiced pamphleteers, who, in many cases, have never
seen a Jesuit or any other religious. Moreover, these witnesses
refute the oft-repeated charge of “the corrupt moral teaching of the
Jesuits.” Fair-minded Protestants have long since branded this charge
as a slander. Thus the German Protestant Körner says in his “_History
of Pedagogy_”[924]: “It is the fashion to represent the Jesuits as
heartless beings, malicious, cunning, and deceitful, although it
must be known perfectly well that the crimes imputed to them are
historically groundless, and the suppression of the Order in the last
century was due entirely to the tyrannical violence of Ministers of
State. _It is only our duty to justice to silence the folly of such
as declare the Jesuit system of education to be nothing but fanatical
malice and a corruption of the young._ The Jesuits were the first
educators of their time. Protestants must with envy acknowledge the
fruitfulness of their labors; they made the study of the ancient
classics a practical study, and training was with them as important as
education. They were the first schoolmasters to apply psychological
principles to education; they did not teach according to abstract
principles, but they trained the individual, developed his mental
resources for the affairs of practical life, and so imparted to the
educational system an important influence in social and political life.
From that period and from that system, scientific education takes its
rise. _The Jesuits succeeded in effecting a moral purity among their
pupils which was unknown in other schools during the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries._”
Indeed, the Society has ever been most anxious to preserve her pupils
from the taint of impurity, the vice to which youth most easily falls
a prey. She takes most effective means to preserve what Chaucer calls
the “sweet holiness of youth.” She will inexorably expel a boy whose
presence is dangerous to others, especially in the matter of purity.
“There are some faults,” says Shea,[925] “for which the Jesuit system
of discipline has no mercy, and in the first place is found the vice
of impurity. For this crime the only punishment is expulsion, since
contamination is looked upon as the greatest evil that can be spread
among the young. Hence the virtue of purity is fostered with all
possible care and solicitude, and even Protestants have borne witness
to the high moral purity of Jesuit students.” (See, v. g., Mr. Körner’s
words quoted above.) So also another writer, the German Protestant
Ruhkopf: “In Jesuit colleges a moral purity prevailed which we look for
in vain in Protestant schools and universities. Such as were totally
corrupt, the Jesuits did not tolerate among their pupils, but sent them
away. In their colleges, impurity and demoralization could not easily
arise, as with the utmost care they kept away everything that could
taint the imagination of the youth committed to their charge.”[926]
Boarding schools, in particular, may easily, and, if precautions are
not taken, will almost invariably become hot-beds of immorality.[927]
Hence the anxiety of the Jesuits in guarding their pupils. Yet they
have been attacked more than once for these very precautions. Great
educators, however, have been one with the Jesuits on this important
question. Thus we read in the life of President McCosh: “The notion
that a professor’s duty began and ended with the instruction and
order in the class room, was abhorrent to him. He thought it the most
serious problem of the higher education to secure the oversight and
unremitting care of students, without espionage or any ‘injudicious
interference with the liberty of the young man.’ With the fine language
about treating students as capable of self-government, and responsible
for their own conduct, Dr. McCosh never felt the slightest sympathy,
believing that the formation of good habits was more than the half of
education, and that the morals of the young, like their intellect and
judgment, required constant attention from the instructors.”[928]
Now let us listen to what the head of an important department in one
of the large institutions in this country thinks on this subject: “One
way to deal with these strange, excited, inexperienced, and intensely
human things called Freshmen is to let them flounder till they drown
or swim; and this way has been advocated by men who have no boys of
their own. It is delightfully simple, if we can only shut eye and ear
and heart and conscience; and it has a kind of plausibility in the
examples of men who through rough usage have achieved strong character.
‘The objection,’ as the master of a great school said the other day,
‘is the waste;’ and he added, ‘it is such an awful thing to waste human
life!’ This method is a cruel method, ignoring all the sensibilities
of that delicate, high-strung instrument which we call the soul. If
none but the fittest survived, the cruelty might be defended; but
some, who unhappily cannot drown, become cramped swimmers for all
their days. Busy and worn as a college teacher usually is, thirsty for
the advancement of learning as he is assumed always to be, he cannot
let hundreds of young men pass before him, unheeded and unfriended.
At Harvard College, the Faculty, through its system of advisers for
Freshmen, has made a beginning; and though there are hardly enough
advisers to go round, the system has proved its usefulness. At Harvard
College, also, a large committee of Seniors and Juniors has assumed
some responsibility for all the Freshmen. Each undertakes to see
at the beginning of the year the Freshmen assigned to him, and to
give every one of them, besides kindly greeting and good advice, the
feeling that an experienced undergraduate may be counted on as a friend
in need.”--This is excellent, but all the more surprised will the
reader be to find that this author continues in the following strain:
“Whether colleges should guard their students more closely than they
do--whether, for example, they should with gates and bars protect their
dormitories against the inroads of bad women--is an open question. For
the deliberately vicious such safeguards would amount to nothing; but
for the weak they might lessen the danger of sudden temptation.”[929]
As to the “open question” we hold rather that it is a shocking
principle. Must not fathers and mothers, who have sons in such schools,
shudder at the thought that their children will scarcely be protected
against the worst and most disgraceful of moral dangers, since the
school authorities think it an “open question” whether such protection
is advisable? In too many cases are youths “left to flounder till they
drown or swim.” And the majority will drown, or become cramped swimmers
for all their days; that is, become moral, and perhaps physical wrecks.
This is the end of all that specious but senseless talk about “the
sanctity of the individual,” “advantage of rough usage,” “dangers
of guarding sternly or tenderly,” “free spirit of our country,” and
the like. The Divine Teacher of mankind, the friend of children, has
clearly and sternly expressed His “views” upon these points: “He that
shall scandalize”--and we may add, he that allows others to scandalize,
or does not prevent from being scandalized--“one of these little ones
that believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were
hanged about his neck, and that he should be drowned in the depth of
the sea.” Neglect of watchfulness in this regard is nothing less than
treason; treason towards the souls of the pupils who should be guarded
against their worst foes, their own corrupt inclinations; treason
against parents who demand that their children be not exposed to such
experiments.
The Jesuits do not let their pupils “flounder till they drown or
swim.” They consider it their most sacred obligation to prevent, as
far as possible, their charges from coming into contact with moral
contamination. “But,” it is objected, “what good comes from all your
protection? It usually happens that your pupil on leaving the place
where he was protected against all dangers, falls the more quickly and
the more shamefully. And why? For the very reason that he was shielded
on all sides and never struggled with dangers and temptations. He
is not prepared, he is caught unawares, and yields unconditionally
and hopelessly, whereas had he been trained by daily encounter with
temptation his character would have been hardened.”[930] If the case
were frequent, if the deeper fall inevitably followed the purer
boyhood, then we may as well despair of all education and all virtue.
Happily, we have here one of those sweeping generalizations and
exaggerations, so common with certain writers. We answer: _First_, not
all fall away after leaving the sheltering precincts of the college.
Many remain good among the greatest dangers and temptations. And this
perseverance they owe to the precautions taken in the college and to
the virtuous habits acquired through the daily practice of observing
the regulations of these institutions. The continued moral efforts
required for doing this are as effective for producing strength of
character as the “rough usage” and, at the same time, less dangerous.
_Secondly_, many of those who afterwards disgrace themselves, would
have done so even had they never been inside college walls, in many
cases much earlier, and perhaps more irreparably. It was college
discipline that prevented them from earlier ruin. St. Ignatius used
to say: “To have prevented one sin is worth all the troubles and
labors of this life.” _Thirdly_, many come to Catholic academies and
colleges from public and private schools, where they have acquired such
a knowledge of life and of the “ways of the world,” that educators
are sometimes horrified at discovering what boys of fourteen and
sixteen years have heard and experienced. For such boys the quiet and
seclusion of a Catholic college and its strict discipline are of the
greatest benefit, and the spirit of piety and modesty pervading the
whole atmosphere acts upon those poor boys as the healthy, pure air of
Colorado and New Mexico upon consumptives. If the spiritual consumption
has not progressed too far, two or three years spent in thoroughly
Christian surroundings, often restore such youths to complete health
of soul and body. There is scarcely a Jesuit teacher who could not
recount many instances of boys whose reformation was so thorough, that
they became most excellent men. Without this salutary influence their
souls would have sunk into the abyss of vice and crime, and their
bodies very likely into an early grave. _Fourthly_, boys who were thus
protected in college, and afterwards go astray will in most cases
return. Their hearts will not be happy in their pleasures and excesses;
for the religious and moral principles implanted in them can never be
totally destroyed. After a brief experience they become disgusted with
their lives and begin to loath their vices. A young man without any
previous religious training sees no way out of the quagmire of vice; he
easily abandons himself the more to his evil passions. But it is very
different with the young man who grew up under religious influences. In
moments of disgust and remorse, at a sudden calamity that befalls him
or those near him, he remembers not only the happiness of his childhood
but also the salutary advice of his teacher, to whom he used to look up
as a fatherly friend. Such recollections have saved more than one young
man who had gone astray. _Finally_, are those young men who from early
years and during college life were left to their “own experience and
rough usage” of temptations, later on, in the battles of life, better
and of purer morals, then those “sheltered” against dangers? An honest
inquiry will assuredly be met with a decided answer in the negative.
The idea of supervision and restriction seems to be especially
repugnant to people in England and America. Undoubtedly, the character
of the American and English youth differs in several points from that
of the youth of other countries. For this reason we may admit, with a
writer in the _Dublin Review_,[931] that in dealing with English--and
we add: with American--youths, it will be found beneficial to exercise
a somewhat less minute supervision than that practised in some other
countries. This seems to be demanded by the peculiar character and
the spirit of the public and private life of the English and American
people. On the other hand, these differences have frequently been
exaggerated, and conclusions have been drawn from these discrepancies
of character which are altogether unjustified. Opinions have been
uttered which seem to imply an intrinsic superiority of the American
youth over those of the rest of the world, a superiority which renders
laws that are necessary for good education everywhere else, superfluous
in this country. Some seem to think that restrictions are little
compatible with republican institutions. Professor Edward J. Goodwin,
of New York, said recently: “German children are taught to submit to
authority, but our boys must be taught to govern themselves.”[932]
We readily admit that the principle of submitting to authority can
be carried to extremes, in education as well as in political life.
But we think that boys will learn to govern themselves only by
submitting first to authority, as in early years they possess neither
the sufficient knowledge nor the necessary strength of will to govern
themselves reasonably. We fasten the young tender tree to a pole,
lest it grow crooked or be bent and broken by the storm; the same is
necessary, and to a much higher degree, in the case of the frail human
sapling in which so many perverse inclinations are hidden which tend to
foster a growth in the wrong direction. Above all, educators should not
forget that there is one authority to which the youths of every country
must submit unconditionally, and that is the authority of the Divine
Lawgiver as expressed in the precepts of morality--and obedience is one
of these precepts. The same Divine authority imposes the sacred duty on
educators to watch over their charges, and to remove, as far as lies in
their power, all that endangers their morality. The Christian educator
fears lest any neglect in this matter may draw upon him the dreadful
words addressed to the “watchman to the house of Israel”: “If thou
declare it not to him [the wicked man], nor speak to him, that he may
be converted from his wicked way and live: the same wicked man shall
die in his iniquity, but I will require his blood at thy hand.”[933]
Indeed, it is the fatherly love and care for the welfare of their
pupils which leads the Christian educator to exercise supervision over
his pupils. He has received from the parents that treasure which is to
them more precious than anything on earth; their own dearly beloved
children, for whom they toil and labor, over whom they anxiously watch
and pray lest they should suffer shipwreck in regard to their faith
and virtue, especially the virtue of purity which is so beautiful, so
priceless, and yet so difficult of securing in youth. The teacher would
be guilty of the basest breach of confidence, did he not strain every
nerve to avert a calamity from those so sacredly entrusted to him.
We can well understand that at times this or that particular method
may justly be censured, as, in reality, not being conducive to the
end which is sought; but that the whole system, the very principle,
should be ridiculed and condemned, spoken of in terms of invective and
indignation, and stigmatized by such opprobrious names as “espionage”
and the like--this, we say, is startling.[934] It can be explained only
from the false philosophical notions of such critics; particularly from
their wrong conception and very low valuation of the human soul.
Many, especially such as have never stepped inside the doors of a
Jesuit college, are filled with an absurd dread of the supervision
exercised, as they fancy, by the Jesuits. From time to time, however,
when some appalling scandals are discovered within the walls of a
college where the students enjoy pretty nearly full liberty, or when
scores, if not hundreds of students, exhibit most disgraceful scenes
of disorder on the public streets, then the eyes of many are opened
and they see that, after all, some supervision, and a pretty strict
one, is necessary in a place where hundreds of hot-blooded youths
live together. In 1891, an English non-Catholic paper, speaking about
scandalous disclosures on board the school-ship _Britannia_, said
there were two kinds of public schools, Jesuit and Gaol-bird school.
“The Jesuit idea of school life is that a boy at school should, as
far as possible, be in the same position as he will afterwards be in
as a man in the world, that is to say, the position not of a wild
beast in an African jungle, free to do what he pleases, but of a human
being in a civilized country, living under the eye of the law. The
Jesuits in fact police their schools, that is, what it comes to. This
policing is called by people who don’t like it (i. e. don’t like the
trouble of enforcing it) espionage and other ugly names. As a matter of
fact, it amounts to no more than that ordinary care which a commonly
decent and commonly sensible father exercises in his own house: It
means simply reasonable supervision, aided of course by rationally
constructed school buildings--massing of boys for school as well as
for play--living in the light of day, in fact. Now, neither a boy nor
a man does much harm or has much harm done to him, so long as he lives
in the light of day, and the consequence is that although, of course,
many boys who leave Jesuit schools become bad men afterwards, yet they
get no harm while they stay at school. They leave as good as they
come and, moreover, if they do not come pretty reasonably good, they
do not stay long. The father gets a letter to say ‘the boy is doing
no good at school and had better be removed.’ The Goal-bird system is
simplicity itself. The head master draws his salary, attends to the
teaching of Greek and Latin and shuts his eyes firmly, deliberately,
conscientiously, like an English gentleman, as he would say himself,
to everything else going on around him.”[935] This is very severe
language. May it not partly apply to a number of “educators” in this
country, who denounce so strongly any “paternalism” exercised over the
pupils?
As regards the charges against the precautions taken in Jesuit
colleges, they are usually founded upon wrong suppositions. It is
believed that the Jesuit pupil is watched every moment. This is not
so; he has liberty enough within a certain reasonable limit. Of
course, it is a most delicate and difficult question how this limit
is to be determined. It is not possible to lay down any particulars
on this subject, because, in this as in other matters, there exists
considerable variety in different Jesuit colleges, and Superiors assign
that measure of liberty which, considering the difference of places and
circumstances, especially the age and character of the pupils, seems
not to expose them to great dangers.--It is also falsely supposed that
no word of necessary explanation is given concerning the dangers that
await the pupil outside the college walls; that educators imperatively
forbid any inquiry about matters which the students may be anxious to
ask; that they never give advice and instruction on matters which at a
certain age a young man may, and considering the circumstances, should
know, in order not to be caught unawares by dangers and temptations,
which are sure to come.[936] Necessary instruction and advice,
according to age and other circumstances, will be given, above all,
by the confessor; the teacher also, with moderation and discretion,
will do the same. Many occasions will offer in the explanation of the
catechism, of the authors, and in private conversations.
A few words must be said about the private talks with boys so much
recommended in the Jesuit system. Father Jouvancy says the teacher
should speak in private more frequently with those who seem to be
exposed to worse and more dangerous faults.[937] Father Sacchini
remarks that he should study the character and disposition of each
pupil, to discover the bad outcroppings on the tender plant and nip
them in the bud.[938] Father Kropf advises the teacher to go carefully
over the names of his pupils every Sunday and to recommend them in
prayer to our Lord and His Blessed Mother. While doing this he should
reflect especially whether it is advisable to see this boy or that in
private, to correct him, to warn him against a danger, or whether it is
well to communicate with his parents.[939] What should be treated of in
these private conversations is plain from Jouvancy and Sacchini. And
the 47th rule of the teachers says briefly, they should treat only of
serious matters.[940] Speaking of conversation with the students, the
Father General Vitelleschi, in 1639, gave characteristic directions:
“It will be very useful if from time to time the professors treat with
their auditors, and converse with them, not about vain rumors and other
affairs that are not to the purpose, but about those that appertain to
their well-being and education; going into the particulars that seem
most to meet their wants; and showing them how they ought to conduct
themselves in studies and piety. Let the professors be persuaded that a
single talk in private, animated with true zeal and prudence on their
part, will penetrate the heart deeper and work more powerfully, than
many lectures and sermons given to all in common.”[941] This keeping in
touch with the individual pupil has always been considered as one of
the sources of the success of the Jesuits in their educational labor.
Protestant educators have not failed to recognize this and to speak
of it with approval. Thus Sir Joshua Fitch writes of Arnold: “Much of
the influence he gained over his scholars--influence which enabled
him to dispense in an increasing degree with corporal punishment--was
attributed to his knowledge of the individual characteristics of
boys.... This is a kind of knowledge which has long been known to be
characteristic of the disciplinary system of the Jesuits, but has not
been common among the head masters of English public schools.”[942] It
is almost altogether absent in most modern systems, consistently with
their principle of separating training from teaching, education from
instruction, a principle which, as M. Brunetière said, “our forefathers
would not have been able to understand.”[943]
Supervision and exhortation are powerful means for preserving the good
morals of youths, but much more powerful are the divinely appointed
means, Confession and Communion. Although they are practised in all
Catholic colleges, the Jesuits, following the example and advice
of their founder, worked most zealously for the spread of frequent
confession and communion. By doing so they incurred the special hatred
of the Jansenists, whose rigorous views they vigorously opposed. We
need not here refute the Protestant views of auricular confession.
Every Catholic knows that it is not a “torture chamber of conscience,”
not an “unwarrantable invasion of the privacy of the individual,”
not an “intrusion into the sacred domain of domestic life,” not a
“source of weakness to the will,” not a “dangerous and demoralizing
practice.” To men who use such language and hold such opinions may be
applied the words of the Epistle of St. Jude the Apostle: “_Blasphemant
quod ignorant_, they blaspheme things which they know not.” Apart
from the divine institution, the Catholic knows that confession, the
“ministry of reconciliation,” the “sacrament of peace,” is a source of
unspeakable blessings, of consolation in distress, of encouragement
in despair, of advice in perplexities. With reference to our object,
the English Jesuit Father Clarke (Oxford), in an article entitled “The
Practice of Confession in the Catholic Church,”[944] points out the
special advantages of confession for the moral training of the young.
The passage is so beautiful and so much to our purpose that it is well
to quote it in its entirety.
“It has probably occurred to the mind of most Catholics, as it has
often occurred to my own, that if there were no other proof of the
paramount claims of the Catholic Church, we should find a sufficient
one in the elaborate care with which she watches over the innocence
of the young. To guard from evil and corruption the lambs of the
fold is one of her chief duties and privileges. This loving care
she inherits from her Divine Founder, Who was the friend and lover
of little children. Now, I do not think that it is possible for any
unprejudiced and well-informed person, who compares the practical
working of the Catholic system with that of any other religious system
in the world, to deny her unrivalled and unapproachable superiority
in this respect. She shields her little ones in their early childhood
with all the jealous care of the most tender mother, and when the time
comes for the safe seclusion of the parental roof to be exchanged for
a freer intercourse with their fellows, she provides safeguards for
their purity that are unknown, or almost unknown, outside her fold. For
the due education of boys, large schools, and for those of the upper
class, large boarding schools are a practical necessity. Then comes
the dangerous time, and how great the dangers of that time are is well
known to every one who has had an experience of the inner working of
English public schools. To keep boys safe from a most perilous, if not
fatal, contact with vice and sin, is a problem which has exercised
the mind and troubled the conscience of every one who has taken part
in the management of any of our large schools and colleges; and those
among Protestant educators who have studied the subject most deeply,
and who have had long experience to guide them, have had to admit, with
sorrow and grief, that the task was a hopeless one.[945] They have had
to submit to what they considered an inevitable evil, and their best
hope has been by personal influence to mitigate to some extent that
which they knew they were powerless to prevent. But is the evil one
for which no remedy can be provided? God forbid! The Catholic Church
provides an effective remedy for this as for every other evil incident
to human life. Here I can speak from a large experience, and with a
full knowledge of the subject. Again and again I have been assured
by boys who have passed through Catholic colleges, from the lowest
to the highest form, that during the whole of their time there they
never heard one immodest word, or came into contact with any sort of
temptation to evil from those with whom they associated. I have known
some who at the end of their school course were as innocent of moral
evil as on the day they entered, and were utterly shocked and disgusted
when they were thrown into the vortex of the world outside, and had to
listen to the kind of talk that too often forms the common staple of
conversation among those who have had a Protestant education.... I do
not say that the Church is always successful in her endeavors. It is
quite possible that, even in a Catholic school, evil may for a time
run riot. One sinner may destroy much good. But the evil never lasts
long, and the Catholic system brings about a speedy recovery. What I
do assert is that the moral perils, to which a boy is exposed in a
Catholic school, are infinitesimal as compared with those which will
surround him in any of the Protestant public schools and colleges.
“In all this the chief engine for the good work is the confessional.
There are, of course, many others. There is the personal influence and
the keen sense of responsibility of those who are in authority; there
is the close and intimate friendship existing between the teacher and
the taught, which is something utterly different from the comparatively
cold relations and official reserve which make the Protestant master
far more of a stranger to his boys. But it is the weekly or fortnightly
confession that is the real safeguard. It is in the confessor that he
has his trusted friend, to whom he freely talks of all his dangers and
temptations; it is confession that keeps the moral atmosphere healthy
and pure; it is confession that maintains the high standard of life and
conversation prevailing, through God’s mercy, in our Catholic schools
and colleges; it is confession that enables the Catholic parent to
entrust his boy to the good priests, whether secular or regular, who
devote themselves to the work of education, without any of those qualms
or fears, that anxiety and foreboding about the future, that fill the
heart of the Protestant parent when he bids farewell to his innocent
child on his first plunge into the vortex of a Protestant public school.
“But there is one charge, one false and cruel charge, which some
Protestant writers bring against confession. They say that it
introduces the young and innocent to a knowledge of subjects which are
_sacro digna silentio_, and even suggests to them evil of which they
would otherwise be ignorant. I can only assure my readers (in answer to
this gratuitous calumny), on the word of an honest man, that during the
twenty years and more that I have been constantly hearing confessions
of men and women, boys and girls, of every class and in various
countries, I have never known of a single instance of any knowledge of
evil having been imparted in the confessional. I am sure that I may
speak for all my fellow priests all over the world, when I say that I
would, with God’s help, far rather be torn in a thousand pieces than
say one word in the confessional that could endanger the purity of the
young, or impart a knowledge of evil to one previously ignorant of it.
“But if there should be any of my readers who are not willing to
accept my own personal assurance, there is another consideration which
ought to convince them. If there were in this accusation the smallest
element of truth, every good mother would, in her tender care for her
children’s innocence, have the greatest horror of seeing her little
ones kneeling before the priest, and every careful father would forbid
his boys and girls from incurring the risk of such contamination. Is
this the case? Do we find good Catholic parents dreading the influence
of the confessional for their children? On the contrary, there is
nothing that gives them more hearty satisfaction than to know that
their sons and daughters are, from their earliest years, regular in
making their confession month by month, or week by week. They regard
it as the best possible safeguard for their innocence and virtue. They
are alarmed and anxious if, when boyhood emerges into youth, their sons
grow irregular in frequenting the tribunal of penance. They fear there
must be something wrong. They urge and entreat them not to fall away
from the practice of confession. Joy fills the mother’s heart when she
sees her son once more returning, it may be after long absence, to that
fount of mercy and of grace, where she knows that he will obtain pardon
for the past, and strength and help for the struggles of the future.”
It would be presumption on our part to make further comment on these
beautiful words. Every Catholic will testify to the truth of Father
Clarke’s description of the salutary influence confession exercises
over the young during the most dangerous period of life. Now let us
contrast with this description a picture drawn from the life of a
Protestant. Newman, in the introduction of _Loss and Gain_, describes
a clergyman of the Church of England, who has just decided to send his
son Charles to one of the large public schools. “Seclusion”, he says
to himself, “is no security for virtue. There is no telling what is in
a boy’s heart; he may look as open and happy as usual, and be as kind
and as attentive, when there is a great deal wrong going on within. The
heart is a secret with its Maker. No one on earth can hope to get at
it, or to touch it. I have a cure of souls; what do I really know of my
parishioners? Nothing; their hearts are sealed books to me. And this
dear boy, he comes close to me; he throws his arms around me, but his
soul is as much out of my sight as if he were at the antipodes. I am
not accusing him of reserve, dear fellow; his very love and reverence
for me keep him in a sort of charmed solitude. I cannot expect to get
at the bottom of him.
“‘Each in his hidden sphere of bliss or woe,
Our hermit spirits dwell.’
“It is our lot here below. No one on earth can know Charles’s secret
thoughts. Did I guard him here at home ever so well, yet, in due
time, it might be found that a serpent had crept into the Eden of his
innocence. Boys do not fully know what is good and what is evil; they
do wrong things at first almost innocently. Novelty hides vice from
them; there is no one to warn them or give them rules; and they become
slaves of sin while they are learning what sin is.”
Is not this a most pathetic confession of a great shortcoming of the
Protestant system which renounces all inward government and direction
of the soul? It leaves all to the private judgment of the individual.
And yet, what a blessing for young people to have one to whom they can
securely disclose “their secret thoughts.” Then this friend of their
souls can “warn them and give them rules.” The evil will be discovered
and counteracted before the young are slaves of sin. The Catholic
youth has all this advantage in the confession. What could an Arnold,
a Thring, a McCosh do here? Indeed, does not this reserve of the
Protestant system frustrate in many educators talent, zeal, kindliness,
and keen-eyed affection, of their best fruits?
On the educational influence of the reception of the Holy Eucharist, a
beautiful passage is found in the diary of the first American Cardinal,
Archbishop McCloskey of New York, written when sojourning in Rome as
a young priest. “_Feast of St. Aloysius, Rome_, June 21, 1835. This
is the peculiar festivity of the students of Rome. It is observed
with the greatest solemnity at the Church of the Roman College, S.
Ignazio [under the care of the Jesuits]. Nearly all the students of
the college, amounting to the number of 1500, receive Holy Communion
together on this day. Being anxious to witness so interesting and
edifying a spectacle, I took care to be at the Church of S. Ignazio at
a seasonable hour. When I arrived, the students had just entered and
had taken their places in ranks forming an aisle in the middle, and
extending from the altar along the nave of the church to the very door.
The Community Mass, a low one, was celebrated by a Cardinal, and the
choir was composed of some of the choice singers among the pupils. It
may have been owing to the numberless youthful associations that were
connected with the scene before me, but I must confess it was to me
the most edifying and most affecting ceremony I have yet witnessed in
Rome. It was one which I shall never forget. To behold that spacious
and beautiful edifice almost exclusively occupied by such a number of
students of every rank and almost every age, arranged in such beautiful
order, their countenances bespeaking a deep sense of the act they were
about to perform in receiving into their bosoms their Divine Lord and
Saviour, and to hear, at the same time, the solemn strains of music
which filled the place with pious harmony, was certainly enough to
fill a far less sensitive breast with holy enthusiasm. The moment of
Communion arrived. It was a moment in which I felt the holiness and
sublimity of my religion with a peculiar force. Fifteen hundred young
men and boys approached the table of their Divine Master with a modesty
and a fervor most marked and sincere, and, it is to be supposed, with
a corresponding purity of mind and heart, all of them in the heyday
of life, and most of that age, and in those exterior circumstances,
which lead the youth, particularly of Protestant colleges, to the most
dangerous vices. This, assuredly, I thought was a triumphant evidence
of the superior moral influence of the Catholic religion. Call it
Jesuitism, call it priestcraft, call it what you please, no candid mind
contemplating such a spectacle can deny that as edifying a one has
never been, and never will be, presented by the same number, nor one
tenth of the number, of Protestant youth in any part of the world.”[946]
Besides these two principal means employed for the religious and
moral training of youth, there are others which are used with the
most salutary results. Among them are certain _devotions_ recommended
to, and encouraged among, the students. Non-Catholics do not view
the Catholic devotions very favorably, but their antipathy springs,
for the most part, from a misunderstanding of the true nature of
these devotions. Protestants think that Catholics consider these
practices as the essence of religion; further, they have the opinion
that these devotions are merely mechanical recitations of certain set
prayers. In this they are seriously mistaken.[947] To the Catholic
the religious devotions are not the essence of religion, but they are
practical manifestations of religion and, at the same time, valuable
helps to obtain and strengthen what is essential in religion, namely,
the perfect subjection of the intellect and will to the will of God.
Nor are they merely mechanical recitations of prayers; they are, if
performed according to the mind of the Church, powerful means of
lifting up the understanding, the imagination, the feelings and the
will to the contemplation and active love of God. They all contain most
potent motives for the moral elevation and betterment of man. Let us
take that devotion which Jesuit educators recommend so much to their
pupils: the devotion to St. Aloysius, the “Lily of Gonzaga.” In this
devotion the picture of the highest Christian perfection attainable
in youth is placed before the eyes of the students. They see in this
Saint a noble youth who, in the midst of wealth and luxury and the
allurements of a courtly life, preserved unsullied the white robe of
innocence; a youth who from early childhood measured all things, as
he himself expressed it, _secundum rationes aeternas, non secundum
rationes temporales_, i. e. according to the value which they possess
for his final destination; a youth who always followed the dictates
of conscience with a chivalrous energy and steadfastness, and who
heroically spurned the pleasures that prove so fatal to many young men;
a youth who renounced the inheritance of a principality in order to
follow the evangelical counsels, and to devote himself to the glory of
God and the service of his fellow-men. Surely, a devotion which places
before the admiring gaze of students such a type of youthful holiness
for imitation, is a practical devotion, one that cannot fail to elevate
the character of the students and make their lives purer and holier.
Here we may also mention another most salutary exercise, namely, the
annual retreat in which, following the directions of St. Ignatius,
the end of man, the means of attaining this end, and the motives for
striving after Christian sanctity are set before the mind of the pupil.
What untold blessings result from these exercises, only he is able to
realize who has made them.
Then there exist in every Jesuit college the _Sodalities of the
Blessed Mother of God_, pious associations originated by the Jesuit
Scholastic Leon, and solemnly recognized and highly eulogized by many
Popes, beginning from Gregory XIII. (1584) down to Leo XIII. It is
worth while to read the high commendation bestowed on them by the
learned Pope Benedict XIV., who, as a former Jesuit pupil and member of
the sodality, could well form a competent judgment upon their value.
The influence of these sodalities on the moral life of the pupils
cannot be valued too highly. Their members are usually the leaders
in setting good example to others. The decline of sodalities was
frequently followed by a decline of morality in Catholic colleges. In
1871 the sodalities in the thirty higher schools in Rhenish Prussia
were hampered by government interference; it was said that the good
they might do to individuals, should be accomplished by the schools
without them. A year after, in 1872, Dr. Falk, Minister of Instruction
in Prussia, ordered the dissolution of the sodalities in all higher
schools in the kingdom. Not eight years had elapsed when Dr. Falk’s
successor, von Puttkamer, on the 20th day of May 1880, had to warn
the heads of the same institutions against associations formed by the
students with the avowed purpose of practising drink, dishonesty and
immorality.[948]
These sodalities, instituted to advance the students in true and solid
piety as well as learning, effected inestimable good. The members were
exhorted to cherish above all that virtue which is the most beautiful
ornament of youth, purity. They created a lofty moral tone in the
colleges and sustained a healthy, manly public opinion. Thus these
pious associations exerted a most powerful formative influence on
the character of the students.[949] Their piety, too, was active in
works of charity. The socialists of early colleges united in bands to
purchase articles of food and clothing for distribution among the poor;
they visited prisoners, and consoled and instructed them; they went to
the hospitals and to the squalid quarters of the city to look after the
sick.[950] What the students thus began to practise in college, was by
many continued throughout their lives.
Nor have the sodalities ceased to achieve the same excellent results
in our days. As a modern model sodality we mention that of Barcelona,
consisting of seven hundred members, mostly students of the University,
or members of the professions. Its _Academia_ encourages excellent
literary and scientific work.[951]
Another point concerning the moral training that deserves particular
mention is the care of the Society with regard to reading. The press
is a mighty instrument for good and evil. With it heaven and hell are
contesting for a priceless treasure--the soul of man. St. Ignatius
and the framers of the Ratio Studiorum knew this full well. They tell
the teacher to encourage good and wholesome reading, but even more
earnestly to warn the students against dangerous books, which St.
Augustine calls “the hellish stream into which the children of men are
daily cast.”[952] Ignatius feared lest the reading of classic authors
should introduce into young minds pagan tastes and morals. Nor was his
fear groundless in view of the disastrous results that had followed the
one-sided study and admiration of the classics during the latter period
of the Renaissance, when people not only imitated the beautiful style
of the writers of antiquity but also their shocking principles.[953]
About the year 1550 Ignatius, who had thought long and deeply upon
this subject, wrote to a prelate: “Seeing that young people are so
disposed to receive and retain first impressions, whether good or bad
... and considering that books, especially classics as they are taught
to boys, as Terence, Virgil, and others, contain amongst many things
to be learnt, and not useless but profitable rather for life, some
other things very profane and injurious even if only heard ... and so
much the more, if these are placed before them in books in which they
study habitually, having them in their hands--this considered, it has
seemed to me, as it does still seem, that it would be very expedient
if we were to remove from these classic works all the parts that are
unedifying or noxious, and replace them by others of a better sort, or,
without adding anything leave only what is profitable. And this appears
to me up to these last years most desirable for the good Christian life
and good training of our youth.”[954]
The principles of St. Ignatius found a practical expression in the
Constitutions of the Society,[955] and later in various parts of the
Ratio Studiorum.[956] There it is laid down that in the authors given
into the hands of the pupils all dangerous passages should be omitted,
or if certain authors, as Terence, could hardly be expurgated they
ought rather not to be read at all. Many modern educators or writers
on education consider this anxiety of the Jesuits mere prudery. Others
who have studied the question more thoroughly and conscientiously,
admit that many reasons can be given for the practice of the Jesuits.
Others again declare themselves unable to speak decisively on this
“perplexing” question. Thus a writer in the _St. James’s Gazette_,
after having mentioned the “castrated editions of the classics” used
in the Jesuit college at Stonyhurst, England, says: “Our public
schools go upon another principle; the argument being that the shock
of introduction on entering the world, to what has been so zealously
excluded would only lead to a sudden and fatal downfall. For my part I
find the question a perplexing one.”[957]
To those who see in the caution of the Society nothing but prudery,
we may reply that even pagan writers, and those of the very highest
standing, as Plato, Aristotle, Cicero and Quintilian, denounced
emphatically the reading of certain authors of their own language
and race. Quintilian well said: “As regards reading, great care is
to be taken, above all things, that tender minds, which will imbibe
deeply whatever has entered them when they are ignorant of everything
and, as it were, resemble empty vessels, may learn not only what is
well written, but, still more, what is morally good. The reading of
tragedies is beneficial, the lyric poets nourish the mind, provided
that you select from them, not merely authors, but portions of their
works; for the Greeks are licentious in many of their writings, and
I should be loath to interpret Horace in certain passages.”[958] And
even Ovid, that licentious writer, warns his readers if they want to be
free from the consequences of disorderly passion, not to read, nay, not
to touch frivolous poetry: _Teneros ne tange poetas_, and he includes
in this class some of his own works. The language of the Fathers of
the Church is unmistakable on this subject. In fact, the terms of
condemnation used by some Fathers against pagan writings, are actually
directed against the idolatry and immorality contained therein. It
would be useless to multiply quotations.
There are modern educators, also Protestants, who on this point are
at one with the Society. Thus writes Quick: “It is much to the credit
of the Jesuit Fathers that, though Plautus and Terence were considered
very valuable for giving a knowledge of colloquial Latin and were
studied and learned by heart in the Protestant schools, the Jesuits
rejected them on account of their impurity.”[959] Later on expurgated
editions of Plautus, Terence, Horace, Juvenal, Persius and others
were published by Jesuits, especially by Father Jouvancy. The words
of Professor Paul Barth of Leipsic, written a year ago, are also well
worth being summarized here.[960] “One of the truest sayings of Goethe
is: ‘Let no one imagine that the first impressions of youth can be
effaced.’ There are striking examples recorded in history how perverse
reading in early years caused the greatest harm. Of course there will
be wise people, even educators, who say: ‘It is true, there are some
offensive passages in this work, but their effect is counteracted by
other instruction. Don’t let us be pedantic. Don’t let us make so much
noise about such trifles.’ These gentlemen must be answered that in
education there are no trifles; that nothing is so little that it may
be overlooked. For every trifle has an influence on many, very many
souls of children, and in every one of these souls it can work its
effect for a long time, perhaps for a whole life. Others, advocates of
a ‘sound realism,’ as they style themselves, will say: ‘Evil is after
all a component part of this world, and so it is beneficial to free
the young of the illusion that there is no evil in the world.’ To this
we reply: Belief in the moral order in this world is an energizing
factor in the life of the young, and the man who robs the child of this
belief, weakens its moral energy, consequently does an immoral act.
Others again, granting all this, will say: ‘Although there is some
danger in such reading, still it gives an insight into the life and
the history of the nations.’ Such historians we answer: The history
of civilization can be learned in other ways; at any rate, it is too
dearly bought if it ruins the character of children.”
That no prudishness is advocated by our remarks on reading the
classics, is sufficiently proved from what has been said on Homer.[961]
Nor do we deny that some editors of school-texts, as well as teachers,
may not have gone too far in expurgating. Here, as in other matters,
the golden rule is: _Medio tutissimus ibis._ It will always remain a
delicate and difficult question to decide what is to be omitted or
what may be read without danger. The tact of the teacher and skill
in handling such passages will often give the proper solution. But
about the correctness of the general principle laid down in the Ratio
Studiorum there can be no doubt.
The same principle holds good not only of the classical authors
of Greece and Rome, but of the moderns as well, if not in a higher
degree.[962] The ancients are direct, outspoken and straightforward,
even in their obscenity; the moderns are more indirect and insinuating.
The latter method is not the more harmless as might appear to the
superficial, but is by far the more dangerous, since it stimulates
curiosity, sets the mind thinking and leaves the reader to reflect
and dwell on an unsavory and prurient subject. The Jesuit teachers
are exhorted not only “not to read in class any obscene author or
any book which contains matter dangerous to good morals, but also to
deter most energetically their pupils from reading such books outside
of class.”[963] This advice about deterring pupils from bad reading,
is far more necessary now-a-days than at the time when the Ratio was
drawn up. How many popular books and magazines, openly, or secretly
under the name of “modern science,” are advocating principles which
in reality are agnostic and irreligious? How many of the novels that
flood the literary market, are filled with ill-disguised nastiness?
How many books are borrowed by the young people from libraries, which
should never be permitted to fall into their hands? God alone knows all
the harm done to faith and purity by these books. For many a talented
youth, the pride and joy of a happy home, the indulging in filthy
novels has been the beginning of a career of sin and crime.
As a rule it is not advisable to say _this_ or _that_ book is bad or
indecent; for some boys, either through viciousness or curiosity, will
for that very reason read the book. But should an evil publication
circulate among the boys, then it should be denounced in the strongest
terms.
Boys should be likewise cautioned against over-indulgence in the
reading of newspapers, especially of the sensational kind. There is
no worse school for the mind than such papers. They not unfrequently
swarm with infamous advertisements; scandalous happenings, whose very
possibility ought to be unknown to young people, are there discussed
in a frivolous manner and with the omission of not a single disgusting
detail. If these newspapers form the daily mental food of a boy, they
will dull and blunt all sense of delicacy and modesty, and disable
his mind for serious application to hard study. In his “Book of the
Spiritual Exercises,” St. Ignatius pictures the inveterate enemy of
mankind seated on a throne on the plains of Babylon, despatching
innumerable demons all over the world, to every city and every person
in order to ensnare and deceive men. This wily fiend has undergone a
marvellous metamorphosis. He makes use of the doctrine of evolution,
adapting himself to new circumstances. He is no longer the horned and
hoofed monster of olden legends, but a polished, well-read gentleman,
who manages thousands of printing establishments. And every mail
carries countless demons, in the shape of bad novels, magazines and
papers, to every city, every town, every village, every dwelling,
no matter how secluded or remote. Shall we expect these envoys of
Satan, “transformed into angels of light,” to overlook our schools and
colleges? Alas, how often do they sneak in, unnoticed by porter or
janitor, to work their deeds of darkness among the young. Naught but
the utmost vigilance on the part of school authorities will be able to
counteract these evils. Certainly the principle of St. Ignatius and the
Ratio Studiorum need not be further vindicated.[964]
We must make some remarks about _sports_, which take so important
a part in our modern schools. We do this in connection with moral
education for various reasons. First, because a moderate use of
athletics helps to develop certain moral qualities. Secondly, because
some moderns see in it a remedy for nearly all vicious habits
of youth. They rejoice that “muscular Christianity,” “a sound,
practical, sensible, worldly basis of life has taken the place of the
morbid asceticism and unreal superstitions and transcendentalism of
former generations, which considered the flesh a burden, a clog, a
snare.”[965]--Thirdly, because excess in athletics leads to serious
damage, moral as well as intellectual.
The physical culture of the pupils forms a most important feature in
a good system of education: _sit mens sana in corpore sano_. Athletics,
out-door sports and gymnastics do much for the physical health of the
students. Besides, they demand, and consequently help to develop,
quickness of apprehension, steadiness and coolness, self-reliance,
self-control, readiness to subordinate individual impulses to a
command. This is all valuable for education. Still, “in the reaction
from the asceticism of our early college life there is little doubt
our athletics have gone too far; so far as to direct in a noticeable
degree the student’s attention from his studies.”[966] Indeed, it has
come to pass that among students base-ball, foot-ball, boat-races
and other sports form almost the exclusive topic of conversation.
The favorite reading is the sporting sheet of the newspaper. Some
college periodicals give almost more space to athletics than to
literature. “Pray,” said an Oxford Don to President McCosh, after
reading several numbers of the Princetonian, “are you the president
of a gymnastic institution?”[967] The dangers arise not so much
from athletic exercises themselves, as from their publicity and the
universal admiration in which they are held. There is in our days a
morbid craving for notoriety; people wish to be interviewed, to be
talked about, to be kept before the eyes of the public. Many a young
man thinks he cannot realize this ambition better than by athletic
triumphs. Thus by competitive games much time and talent is wasted,
much enthusiasm for higher aspirations is stifled. Unfortunately, some
colleges, instead of checking this spirit have catered to it. No wonder
that boys have changed their views of the ideal student. Their ideals
are on the campus, no longer in the domain of literature and science.
The hero to whom they look up with admiration is not the leading boy
in the class, not the one who at the end of the year carries off the
honors, but the one “who breaks the world’s record” in some athletic
contest. Many prefer the approving shout of thousands of spectators
on the football field to the earning of class honor. Indeed brain is
no longer the highest human gift in the eyes of a great number of
students, but muscles and muscular achievements. And a writer in a
periodical for September 1901, boasted that “we are fast becoming a
nation of athletes.” The best educators are unanimous in condemning
this excessive spirit of athleticism. They foresee the serious dangers
that spring from it, to intellectual and moral culture.[968]
The Jesuits have never neglected the care of the health of their
pupils.[969] Long ago they had introduced various games into their
colleges and did much to interest all the pupils in them. This is
mentioned as a laudable feature of their educational system even
by men who wrote in a hostile spirit against the Society.[970] The
Jesuits recognized the importance of games at a period when they
were little esteemed by others. “The schools of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries are in general noted for their gloomy neglect of
this cheerful element in the education of youth. The schools of the
Jesuits were, in this respect, conducted on more reasonable principles
than most of the rest.”[971] It is a well-known fact that in Germany
sport in the higher schools, is, or was, until recently, neglected
more than is expedient for the general development of the pupils.
And yet, wherever German Jesuits opened a college, be it in Freiburg
(Switzerland), Feldkirch (Vorarlberg), or Sao Leopoldo (Brazil),
everywhere they introduced and encouraged plenty of healthful games, an
evident sign that it is the spirit of the Society to give the pupils
sufficient recreation. Of the French Jesuits, the _Figaro_ wrote years
ago (June 2, 1879): “Games and amusements occupy an important place in
the schools of the Jesuits. They are as much interested about the place
of recreation as about the study hall. The prefects induce the pupils
to join in the games with the same ardor they display in stimulating
them to work at their books. Two prefects, Fathers de Nodaillac and
Rousseau, have written the history of games.... Fencing is honored
and encouraged in the Jesuit schools. In the three institutions at
Paris (_rue de Madrid_, _de Vaugirard_ and _des Postes_) more than
four hundred pupils take lessons in fencing under the direction of the
best instructors.”[972] It is not necessary to prove that in English
speaking countries the Jesuit colleges do not neglect this part of
training.
FOOTNOTES:
[898] _Life of James McCosh_, p. 224.
[899] _The Literary Digest_, November 22, 1902, p. 669.
[900] See the splendid lecture of Bishop Keppler: “Reform, True and
False,” (translated by the Rev. B. Guldner, S. J., in _The Catholic
Mind_, No. 1, January 1903, pp. 13-14).
[901] On the “Relation of Philosophy to Pedagogy” see five articles
by Father Christian Pesch, S. J., in the _Stimmen aus Maria-Laach_,
volumes XIV and XV.
[902] _Hebr._ 13, 14.
[903] _Matthew_ 6, 33.
[904] _Matth._ 16, 26.
[905] _Ecclesiasticus_ 1, 16.
[906] Willmann, _Didaktik_, vol. I, ch. V.
[907] _Col._ 3, I, 2.
[908] _Ephes._ 4, 22, 24.
[909] _Matth._ 16, 24.
[910] Book I, ch. III, 5.
[911] _Brownson’s Review_, Jan. 1846, p. 87.
[912] _Educational Reformers_ (1890), page 47.--It is worth noting
that Sacchini is supposed to have learned from Trotzendorf to esteem
highly moral and religious training--by the way, Quick’s edition of
1868 ascribes that address to Melanchthon!--Everything good in the
Jesuit system must be traced to Protestant sources! As though Sacchini,
in the teaching of the Bible and the most explicit principles of the
Constitutions of his Order, had not better sources than in a school
address of Melanchthon or Trotzendorf, of which he probably knew
nothing!
[913] The public higher schools of Belgium.
[914] _Journal de Gand and La Chronique_, quoted by De Badts de Cugnac,
_Les Jésuites et l’éducation_, p. 54.
[915] Quoted by Ebner, _Jesuiten-Gymnasien_.
[916] 1. Cor. 11, 1.
[917] See Father Lucas, S. J., in _The Spiritual Exercises and the
Education of Youth_ (London, 1902).
[918] _Reg. com. mag. cl. inf._ 10.
[919] Thus the Protestant Sir Henry Howorth, who attacked the Jesuits
so bitterly in recent years, must confess: “The Jesuits have been a
very powerful agency in framing history. They have some things to be
proud of. So far as I know, the austerity and purity of their lives was
one of the greatest, probably the greatest of all, reforming agencies
in the purifying of the clergy of the sixteenth century, and they
strenuously leavened religious life with the stricter rules of life,
which the Council of Trent tried hard to introduce into the religious
world.” (The London _Tablet_, Nov. 23, 1901, p. 817.)
[920] On this whole subject it is worth while to read De Badts de
Cugnac, _La morale des Jésuites_ (Lille, 1879).
[921] _Geschichte des gelehrten Unterrichts_, pp. 282-283 (I,
408-409). The work referred to is: _Erinnerungen eines ehemaligen
Jesuitenzöglings_ (_Recollections of a former Jesuit pupil_). Leipzig,
1862.
[922] _Lettre_, 7 février 1746.--Hughes, _Loyola_, p. 105.
[923] Duhr, _Jesuitenfabeln_, ch. 5 (2nd ed.), pp. 102-103.
[924] _Geschichte der Pädagogik_ (Leipzig, 1857), page 12.--Quoted by
Shea; _History of Georgetown College_, page 86. Italics are ours.--See
also the splendid testimony rendered to the Jesuits by M. Albert Duruy
in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, January 1, 1880.
[925] _History of Georgetown_, p. 85.
[926] Janssen, _Geschichte des deutschen Volkes_, vol. VII, page 82.
[927] See, for instance, what Arnold said on this subject, in Fitch,
_Thomas and Matthew Arnold_, page 77; further, the _Dublin Review_,
October 1878, p. 294 foll., in the highly instructive article:
“Catholic Colleges and Protestant Schools.” Also “Tom Brown’s School
Days at Rugby,” especially the Preface to the Sixth Edition, will
furnish interesting material.
[928] _Life of James McCosh_, pp. 33 and 35.
[929] _Atlantic Monthly_, March 1900.--A somewhat similar principle
is stated in an article on Eton, in the _Edinburgh Review_, April
1861: “It was the fashion in Sydney Smith’s days--it is so still--to
maintain that the neglect to which boys are necessarily exposed at
our public schools, in consequence of the insufficient number of
assistant masters, renders them self-reliant and manly; and that the
premature initiation into vice, which too often results from that
cause, imparts to them an early knowledge of what are apologetically
called ‘the ways of the world'; and prevents their running riot when
subsequently exposed at the universities to still greater temptations
than those offered them in their boyhood by the public-houses and
slums of Eton and Windsor.” Quoted in the _Dublin Review_, October
1878, p. 308.--This “premature initiation into vice” was, accordingly,
a frequent result of the system of the great English public schools;
moreover, it was considered a positive benefit. A sad prerogative of
these schools, indeed!
[930] Such objections have sometimes been made even by short-sighted
Catholics who, dazzled by the outward brilliant successes of the great
Protestant schools, wished some of their features to be introduced
into Catholic colleges. These views have been ably refuted in various
articles of the _Dublin Review_. See e. g. July and October 1878.--On
the other hand, not long ago President Jones of Hobart plainly
advocated _greatly increased supervision_ in student life. He does
not think that more stringent regulations would keep the students
“milksops.” _The Forum_, Jan. 1901, 592-593.
[931] _Dublin Review_, October 1878, p. 285, note.
[932] _Report of the Commissioner of Education_, 1901, vol. I, p. 249.
[933] _Ezech._ 3, 18.
[934] _Dublin Review_, April 1878, p. 330.
[935] _Truth_, November 1891; quoted in the _Tablet_, November 14, 1891.
[936] On this important point see Père Rochemonteix, vol. II, p. 66
foll.
[937] _Ratio Docendi_, ch. 1, art. 2.
[938] _Paraenesis_, art. 18.
[939] _Ratio et Via_, ch. IV, art. 1, § 6.
[940] See also _Woodstock Letters_, 1896, p. 251.
[941] _Monumenta Germaniae Paedag._, Pachtler, vol. III, p.
59.--Hughes, _Loyola_, p. 108.
[942] _Thomas and Matthew Arnold_, p. 102.
[943] _Revue des Deux-Mondes_, 15 février 1895.
[944] _North American Review_, December 1899.
[945] Compare with this the passage quoted by Arnold: “Public schools
are the very seats and nurseries of vice. It may be unavoidable, or
it may not, but the fact is indisputable. None can pass through a
large school without being pretty intimately acquainted with vice,
and few, alas! very few, without tasting too largely of that poisoned
bowl.”--Fitch, _l. c._, p. 77.
[946] _Historical Records and Studies_, vol. II, part I: “Cardinal
McCloskey,” by Archbishop Farley.
[947] Far worse misrepresentations of Catholic devotions are due to
gross ignorance of Catholic teaching. Thus we find in so learned a
work as Schmid’s _Geschichte der Erziehung_ (vol. III, part I, page
91) the assertion that “the Society of Jesus, according to the idea
of its founder, sees the end and object of all religious exercises in
the adoration of Mary.” Every Catholic child of seven years could have
told the Leipsic Professor who wrote this calumny, that Catholics do
not _adore_, but _venerate_ Mary and the Saints; nor do Catholics see
in the veneration of Mary and the Saints the end and object of all
religious exercises.
[948] _Centralblatt für die Unterrichtsverwaltung_, 1880, p. 572.
[949] See Coleman, “Old Stonyhurst” in _Messenger_, New York, 1894, p.
797 foll.
[950] Details may be read in the _History of the Sodalities_, Boston,
Noonan & Co., 1885.--See also Rochemonteix, vol. II, p. 121 foll.,
where the charitable work of the Sodalities at La Flèche is related.
[951] See _The Pilgrim of our Lady of Martyrs_, New York, Sept. 1893
and Jan. 1894.
[952] _Confess._ I, c. 16.
[953] See above chapter II, § 2: pp. 50-52 and ch. V on the
theatrical performances, pp. 165-167.--Vittorino da Feltre and other
representatives of the Christian Renaissance differed radically on this
point from the Pagan Humanists. Thus Vittorino read certain authors to
his pupils only with many excisions. Woodward, _Vittorino da Feltre_,
pp. 47 and 57.
[954] In Stewart Rose, _St. Ignatius Loyola_, p. 515.--Obscene passages
are meant. But _substitutions_ cannot be recommended.
[955] _Constit._ P. IV, c. 5. _Decl._ E.
[956] _Reg. Prov._ 34.--_Reg. com._ 8.
[957] Littell’s _Living Age_, vol. CLXX (1886), p. 248.
[958] _Inst._ I, c. 8.
[959] _Educational Reformers_, p. 507.--See also von Raumer’s
statements above p. 166.
[960] _Neue Jahrbücher_, 1901, vol. VIII, pp. 57-59.--See also
Schiller, _Handbuch der praktischen Pädagogik_, 1894, p. 172, where it
is said that some satires of Horace and some passages in Homer should
be left out in the school editions. The same author’s opinion about the
use of unabridged Bibles in schools will be quoted in the next chapter.
[961] See above pp. 399-400.
[962] The Rules of the Provincial 34, § 2, say: “Still greater caution
is needed in regard to the vernacular authors.”
[963] _Reg. com._ 8.
[964] On reading see also Sacchini: _On Dangerous Reading_ (In Latin);
a new translation in Herder’s _Bibliothek der katholischen Pädagogik_,
vol. X, pp. 186-205.--Jungmann, S. J.: _Gefahren der belletristischen
Lektüre_.
[965] See General Walker’s address in _Report of Commissioner of
Education_, 1896-97, I, p. 705 foll.
[966] Prof. West of Princeton University, in _Education in the United
States_, vol. I, p. 222.
[967] _Life of James McCosh_, p. 208. See also p. 223 foll.
[968] On this keenly discussed question see: Findlay, _Arnold of
Rugby_, with an _Introduction_ by the Right Reverend Lord Bishop of
Hereford. (1897), pp. 23 and 24.--Fitch, _Thomas and Matthew Arnold_,
pp. 103-108. There it is stated that exaltation of physical powers to
the same level as intellectual distinction has in late years seriously
debased the ideal and hindered the usefulness of the great public
schools in England. “For the moment the type of school-boy and of
manhood most in favor with the British public is Spartan rather than
Athenian.” Mr. Fitch states also that the famous romance of Thomas
Hughes, _Tom Brown’s School-days_, gives only one side and that not the
best side of Rugby school life.--Some excellent remarks on athletics in
college are made by Mr. Canfield in his book _The College Student and
his Problems_, pp. 103-105. A very severe criticism of the excessive
admiration of sport among the English public is contained in the
_Contemporary Review_, Jan. 1902.--See also _Nineteenth Century_, Jan.
1903, p. 46.
[969] A document in Spanish, drawn up in the first years of the
Society, contains a most interesting chapter entitled “The Preservation
of Bodily Health and Strength.” In seventeen paragraphs it lays down
rules about moderation in studies, about food, clothing, sleep, proper
bodily exercises, and sufficient recreation. Although this document
was primarily written for the younger members of the Order, its
principles were applied, as appears from other passages, to the pupils
of the colleges, of course with necessary changes. See _Monumenta
Paedagogica_, p. 68 sq. “_Para Conservar la Salud y Fuerzas del
Cuerpo_.”
[970] For instance in the _Recollections of a Jesuit Pupil_ (written
by an apostate priest who had studied in Jesuit colleges), p. 104
foll. Bode: _Aus dem Kloster_, vol. II, p. 174 foll. quoted by Huber,
_Jesuiten-Orden_, p. 370 foll.
[971] Kiddle and Schem, _The Cyclopaedia of Education_, article
“Games,” p. 330.
[972] De Badts de Cugnac, _Les Jésuites et l’éducation_, pp. 25-31.