which has most influence on him when he is alone and which will
include the chief part of his solitary recreation--his reading. To say
that much of the success or failure of his priestly life will depend
on the proper direction of his reading is merely to say what is
obvious. Leaving out of account his directly spiritual exercises, he
will undoubtedly have a large amount of time on his hands which may be
most usefully employed in reading, and which otherwise will be simply
wasted. A certain proportion of this may be solid work, such as
theological or other study, necessitating close application. A
mathematician may utilise his powers by studying problems or other
matter, which stimulates and improves his mind. But there must be a
large amount of time left when the mind is too tired for serious
exertion, and this can be profitably devoted to reading of a lighter
nature.
The first idea that occurs to one is novels. In past times a stricter
view obtained about novel reading than seems to be the case to-day.
There is no doubt that a purely sensational novel is a powerful
instrument for the loss of time, and it engenders an unhealthy craving
for excitement of an undesirable type. A novel which is chiefly read
for the excitement of its plot is beyond all doubt the priest's enemy,
and a greater and stronger enemy than many realise. Such novels exist
to-day in large numbers, and are sold at low prices. Perhaps for that
reason they are not spoken of with much respect, and being of a
generally low order, are less likely to ensnare us than those of a
generation or two ago. This of course does not apply to classical
novels, such as Scott, Dickens, Thackeray, etc., nor to many modern
novels by standard authors. But there are many to which it does apply.
Even the best novels are permeated with worldly ideals, and the
mainspring of the story always turns upon love affairs, which even to
a Christian in the world should not be the exclusive motive of life.
Nevertheless, if such books are read with care and discrimination,
much recreative as well as educational thought can be obtained from
them without any serious instilling of wrong principles.
The general subject of novels, however, is too long and complex to
discuss here. We can perhaps get a little more practical on that of
newspapers. To a priest a certain amount of newspaper reading is not
only desirable, but necessary to keep him in touch with the world in
which he lives and works. To know what is going on politically, the
forces at work in Parliament, the agitations through the country, the
relations of capital to labour, the lives and deaths of distinguished
men, is essential to the conditions of modern life. Would that
newspaper reading stopped there! Alas, many of the principles are
unconsciously imbibed and are detrimental to the priestly spirit. This
is no new evil. So far back as about the year 1836, Dr. Newsham of
Ushaw wrote to Dr. Wiseman, as he then was, Rector of the English
College at Rome, deploring the newspaper as the source of much of the
want of ecclesiastical spirit among the clergy of his day:--[3]
"I will say to you frankly that there is a very great want of a spirit
of piety, faith and religion in our clergy. It is useless to
investigate the cause of this. I will say briefly that it has probably
in good measure arisen from the great majority of the missionaries
being young men, from the little control that has been exercised by
the Bishops for many years over their young priests on the mission,
and probably above all from the spirit of the times which is
incessantly infused into the mind of a young man by our abominable
newspapers. In fact, a greater pest, a more efficient weapon of the
devil does not exist in the world than the English newspapers. Their
pernicious effect on the minds of our young ecclesiastics has been
observed and lamented by many others as well as myself."
At the present day the evil is of course emphasised by the great
profusion of cheap newspapers, and as a rule the cheaper the paper,
the lower the style and setting. And a further evil has arisen of
reading those parts of them which give a momentary excitement. The
little paragraphs are a potent time-waster. Even during the war, the
evening papers contain much that is not really of any permanent
importance about it, but out of war-time we became familiar with any
number of small tit-bits which may beguile the time of a business man
returning home from his work, but which are unworthy of the attention
of a serious-minded priest. Yet the paper became so full of them that
even important news, such as the proceedings of Parliament, became
relegated to a back page, or even got omitted altogether.
If we want to see a priest at his worst, we cannot think of a better
opportunity than after breakfast on a winter's morning, if we can find
him, as we sometimes can, spending an hour or two of the most valuable
time of the day, when he is best fitted for work, in sitting before
the fire reading the newspaper and smoking pipe or cigarette.
This perhaps suggests a few words about smoking itself, which can be
reckoned among a priest's recreations; and if properly controlled, a
very good recreation it may be. The solace of a pipe towards the end
of a day, when nature calls for a rest and an opportunity for quiet
thought, may be of great assistance to a priest in recuperating after
a day's work. And a smoke after meals is good and healthy for mind and
body. But, alas! many people do not limit themselves to moderate
smoking, and the habit often leads to sad waste of time. There are
indeed some who can work better with a pipe in their mouths: but these
are the exception. The ordinary rule is that smoking is only
compatible with light occupation. Hence a man who is always craving
for a smoke is always craving for a few idle moments. How many small
intervals in the day are there which many a priest fills up with a
cigarette, with or without a little light reading or newspaper
snippets. One does not easily realise how much time can be thrown away
in this manner. Cardinal Manning used to have always at hand what he
called a "five-minutes book," and he used to tell of the large amount
of reading which he thus got through in his short unoccupied
intervals.
But the evil of the frequent cigarette is more far-reaching than that.
The craving which calls for a few minutes of self-indulgence of this
kind is surely an opportunity for a little self-control and
mortification: if this is allowed to slip, by degrees one becomes a
slave to smoking. And the evils of heavy smoking are many and great.
One is the general demoralising effect on oneself. Another is the
unpleasant effect it has on others. A heavy smoker is a selfish man:
the fact that he inconveniences his neighbour does not deter him.
After all, non-smokers form more than half of the congregation, for
practically all the women and children are such, besides a not
inconsiderable proportion of the men. To non-smokers, the smell of
stale smoke is always unpleasant, while not infrequently it engenders
unwillingness to go into close contact, as for example in the
Confessional. Then again the stained fingers which mark the heavy
smoker seem an unworthy instrument for saying mass, and for touching
the Blessed Sacrament. Many a person has been kept away from a priest
by his reeking of tobacco. Truly a priest's whole career may be marred
by the habit.
The danger of continual smoking at small intervals is obviously much
greater in the case of a cigarette than a pipe, and one stage towards
self-control in this matter would be to keep the number of cigarettes
strictly limited. But the best preservative is to have fixed hours for
smoking of any kind and never to smoke outside them.
[1] _Eternal Priesthood_, p. 76.
[2] _The Priest on the Mission_, p. 209.
[3] _Sequel to Catholic Emancipation_, i., p. 140.
CONFERENCE XI
THE RECREATIONS OF A PRIEST
(_continued_)
THE actual laws about a priest's recreation are, as is almost
necessary from the nature of the case, only negative. They enumerate
the amusements in which he must not take part. In our own Synods there
are two laws, the first of which is taken from the Synod of St.
Charles at Milan:--
"Priests should keep away from spectacles unworthy of an ecclesiastic,
from clamorous hunting which is carried on with horse and hounds, from
public dances, from unlawful games and from feastings which are
protracted till late in the night."
"We strictly forbid clerics in Holy Orders from being present at
scenic representations in public theatres [or in places which serve
for the time as public theatres], [1] imposing on transgressors the
penalty of suspension incurred _ipso facto_, as has hitherto been in
force throughout England, with reservation to their respective
Ordinary."
The first of these laws is sufficiently vague to admit of considerable
variety of interpretation. So far as public dances or balls are
concerned, the practice has always been to regard them as not the
place for a priest. At the time of the French Revolution, the
_emigres_ clergy, who were received in England with such hospitality,
used to be invited to all kinds of festivities, and no doubt their
heads became somewhat turned. At any rate, many of them used to stay
up the greater part of a night at balls to which they were asked,
until it reached the ears of the Bishop, who prohibited it. In truth,
if balls or dances were ever so innocent, such dissipation prolonged
into the night is incompatible with priestly life.
It would seem, however, from recent decisions that the Holy See means
a rather stricter interpretation to be affixed to the law, and
although these actual decisions may only bind locally, in the United
States and Canada, it seems hardly rash to infer that it is intended
to discountenance priests generally from attending or promoting
entertainments which include dancing. [2]
With respect to the rest of the law, it is difficult to be very
precise; but we shall not be far wrong if we adopt a general rule that
in every case when a priest is tempted to conceal his priesthood, and
adopt a costume which will allow his being taken for a layman, he is
on the verge of frequenting "a spectacle unworthy of an ecclesiastic."
It can be done with care without breaking the letter of the law about
ecclesiastical dress, simply by covering the Roman collar and wearing
a dark grey coat; and it has been done in the past by those who wished
to attend a spectacle where a Roman collar would be out of place.
In the case of going to a football or cricket ground, especially the
latter, to watch the game, the case is wholly different, for we find
plenty of Roman collars openly worn. At the time of writing, the war
has put an end to the possibility of this pastime for so long a period
that one has almost forgotten its fascination. We are even inclined to
wonder how we could ever have allowed the first-class cricket scores
to have the prominence they once had in our thoughts. For it is not
many years ago that the Daily Mail would announce the "sad plight of
England" cabled from the Antipodes during a Test Match with as much
prominence as is now given to apprehended danger of invasion by the
Germans. If cricket ever fully revives, however, there is a good deal
to be said in favour of an occasional afternoon at Lord's or the Oval.
It gives one fresh air and an amount of occupation not inconsistent
with quiet reflection on more serious topics. To watch a game of
football is in some ways less desirable, not only because the
excitement is more concentrated, but because the general tone of the
crowd is rougher. Still, a priest can go in his Roman collar.
It is hardly necessary to point out that the unlawful games alluded to
have no relation to our English athletic exercises. The modern
counterpart would perhaps be games at cards for high stakes, about
which some words have already been said. The question of athletics is
a very different one. Cardinal Manning, though himself in his younger
days a cricketer, took a stern view of a priest playing. "Can you
imagine"--he would say--"going before your Creator for judgment with a
chalice in one hand and a cricket bat in the other?" Or again, "Should
a priest have time to throw away in running after a piece of leather?"
It may be doubted whether he often carried conviction with such
arguments. Still, these considerations cannot be wholly put aside. But
it would be narrow-minded to make objection to athletics in general,
if indulged in with moderation, and in suitable surroundings. Either
tennis or cricket may be good for both soul and body, though the
latter game exacts so much time that it is only exceptionally within
the priest's reach. But the game of golf, so much in vogue in later
years, is almost an ideal one as a clerical recreation. In this,
however, as in all matters of recreation the personal tastes--and
personal attainments--must be the decisive factor. Many have no
inclination for athletics after leaving school. They find as they grow
older that the exercise which comes naturally with their daily work
satisfies their needs, with perhaps an occasional long walk, which
they designate a "constitutional"; and often during such
"constitutional" they can do some valuable thinking. Some writers do a
large part of their composition while out walking.
There is another form of athletics which is capable of great use, or
of some abuse--that is, the bicycle. In these days, indeed, it has
become so much part of every-day life that many use it simply for the
purpose of getting from place to place. But it can also be used on a
larger scale to provide an excellent recreation. As a physical
exercise indeed, it is exacting, especially when--as will often be the
case--the weather is unfavourable, or the wind in the wrong direction,
and it is doubtful whether it conduces much physically to health. But
it has an admirable power of taking away a man from his daily
surroundings and giving him a complete mental change and rest. If the
weather is fine, indeed, and the conditions favourable, it tends
occasionally to make inroads into our work. But if used judiciously it
may be the occasion of much educative interest, and give one some of
the advantages of travel which the modern railway transport from point
to point fails to give. Mr. Ruskin refused to travel by train, and to
be conveyed, as he said, like a parcel. If he had lived in the days of
bicycling, he might have found the key to his difficulty. The
bicyclist makes close acquaintance with the people and the places
through which he travels; he can visit the old churches and interest
himself in their history; he can see the various industries and way of
life of the people among whom he goes, and so forth. This is still
more so if he has a motor-cycle, as his range of country is so largely
increased. His interest may be developed by a portable camera; and
indeed photography in itself is a capital recreation. So is botany, or
geology, or any kind of hobby which a man may take up. And any hobby
is to be encouraged. If a man says he has no time to pursue a hobby,
he is probably an idle man. One who is keen can make time and this is
in every way an advantage.
We can now turn to consider the second synodical law--that against
frequenting the theatre--which is not only more precise, but has a
heavy penalty attached to its infringement, that the delinquent is
_ipso facto_ suspended from his priestly functions and commits a sin
reserved to his Bishop. Such a stringent law indicates that the matter
is viewed seriously.
The fact is that the Church has always spoken in strong terms against
the theatre. Bishop Milner uses his customary violent language in that
sense. "Everyone knows," he says, [3] "that actors and actresses by
the laws of the Church and the particular constitutions of our mission
[4] are considered as habitual sinners and in a state of damnation, to
whom therefore the sacraments are to be denied. Setting aside, then,
all other consideration, can any Christian think it lawful by his or
her presence or money to assist in keeping these wretches in such a
state?" And again, "What are the opinions, the taste, the conduct, and
in a word, the lessons which are inculcated by the theatre? I say that
the very best modern tragedies exhibit and recommend that pride,
ambition, vainglory, impatience, anger and revenge which are the very
reverse of our Divine Master's morality inculcated in the eight
beatitudes. And with respect to all the comedies and almost all the
tragedies, they are made up of the sentiments, the intrigues and the
gratification of the concupiscence of the flesh under the specious and
all-meaning name of Love."
Probably few would be found to speak in that drastic manner to-day. It
is, to say the least, remarkable that the actor's profession seems to
contain a greater proportion of Catholics than almost any other, and
although we cannot regard it as free from dangers, the activities of
the Catholic Stage Guild, and the fact that it is under high
ecclesiastical patronage show that the profession is not regarded as
in itself illicit. Moreover, those who have come across actors in
private life can testify to the fact that a large amount of real
goodness exists among them, and that as a class, they are very
charitable, and aim at high ideals.
Nevertheless, the considerations put forward by Dr. Milner cannot be
too lightly set aside, even under modern conditions. One of the
dangers of the stage is that it unconsciously undermines Christian
morality, substituting that of the world: extolling pride as a virtue,
looking down on the humble as poor-spirited and the like. A Catholic
spectator may honestly believe himself to be unharmed, whereas as a
fact his hold on Christian principles may have been lowered, and
worldly ideals substituted in their place.
It is true indeed that a new stamp of theatrical representation has
arisen since the date of Dr. Milner, typified by the Gilbert and
Sullivan comic operas, or the burlesques which were so fashionable a
generation or two ago. These produce much mirth and recreation, and
are free from the danger alluded to. But it is worth noting that it is
just these pieces which are most infected with improprieties of dress
from which Christian eyes should be kept.
A somewhat similar remark applies to the Italian Opera, which was once
the very height of fashion, and still retains a part at least of its
former distinction. The plot or _libretto_ takes a comparatively
secondary place and does not attract much attention, it being only the
setting of the music, which is the chief attraction. But as a set-off,
we are frequently brought face to face with a ballet of a most
improper nature. Certainly the inference drawn by the ordinary
frequenter of the theatre is that such performances are not wrong, and
it is prudish to object to them.
And if it be argued that one meets with similar worldly ideals in
novels, or even in everyday life, or that the state of the London
streets brings similar indecorum before one, the answer is simple:
what one meets with by accident in everyday life is one thing; what is
put for before us for our admiration and dressed in its most
attractive form is a totally different one; and many a man drinks in
an idea unthinkingly at the theatre which he would not assimilate in
the same way by mixing in everyday life or even by reading a novel. In
the case of a regular frequenter of the theatre, we find his whole
outlook on life distorted by its morality.
In similar way, though the views of Cardinal Manning against all kinds
of theatrical entertainments are commonly admitted to have been
extreme, what he says cannot be dismissed too easily, for it contains
much truth.
"Every theatre," he writes, "is the centre of a neighbourhood
abounding in all manner of evil, which lives and thrives on the
theatrical world. There are upon the stage many good men and many good
women; but also of both many bad. The spirit and surroundings and tide
of the stage are dangerous and downward. The classes and trades that
thrive by it are too well known to need words from me. Why should
anyone aid, abet, comfort or share in such a traffic, even by the
price of a box or a single ticket? I had rather have no liability
however limited in such a trade."
Probably most persons to-day would look upon these words as a somewhat
overdrawn picture, and it is to be hoped that we shall not be
considered wanting in respect in taking a somewhat less rigid view.
Perhaps we may apply the same principles as St. Francis of Sales
applies to persons living in the world assisting at parties, balls,
and social dissipations generally [5]--that such things should be
taken with caution and not too frequently, in which case the
recreation and other good which they provide may be obtained, and the
harm avoided. Thus, if it be argued that the need of recreation in the
modern world is great, that the stage contains much that is
entertaining, or at times even elevating, and that its evils may be
counteracted in the case of one who is solidly instructed in his
religion, a strong case might be made in favour of frequenting the
theatre provided it is not done too often, and that one knows that
there are dangers lurking which require watchfulness and care. It may
be urged that Cardinal Manning, from his very nature, never realised
the necessity or use of real recreation, for he seemed able to work
continuously without any; and, moreover, the particular recreation of
the theatre was to a great extent a closed book to him, for it is well
known that early in life he made a resolution not to put his foot
inside one, and he kept it throughout his life. This would seem to be
a justification for at least taking a somewhat less rigid view than
his on the matter.
But in the case of the priest, the question is totally different. Such
dissipation in such surroundings is incompatible with his general
life, and out of harmony with the stern seriousness of the priestly
vocation. It prevents recollection at a time of day when it is
especially needed, and his morning's Meditation and mass must suffer.
Moreover, a priest in a Roman collar is an official, and must not
countenance by his presence the indecorum which is of such frequent
occurrence in every theatre.
Yet one has heard of some priests regretting the law; but the
arguments put forward by them do not appeal with much force. One is
that the theatre has changed since the law was made and it is not now
objectionable as it once was. It is remarkable to note how this has
always been said. So far back as the time of Dr. Milner this argument
was used, as he himself testified. It is probable that as times goes
on, plays become more outwardly respectable, and the improprieties are
less emphasised; possibly for that very reason they are more
insidious. The general spirit of the theatre does not seem to change,
and is not likely to.
During the last decade of the eighteenth century, before the penal
state of Catholics had been relaxed, no law on the subject existed;
and the celebrated preacher, Rev. James Archer, used to go to the
play, to get a lesson in elocution; and when in 1803, at the first
meeting of Bishops which approached the nature of a Synod, they
forbade the practice, Mr. Archer was very irate. The style of
eloquence at that epoch was far more inflated and artificial than
anything with which we are familiar, and we can hardly imagine such
complaint being made now; but even in recent times, one has heard of
Catholic actors being asked to give a priest some hints on elocution.
As regards actual delivery, and means of making ourselves audible, it
is possible that they might give some useful advice; but it is certain
that the real value of a sermon will never depend much on mere rules
of rhetoric; and any rhetoric which is artificial is a hindrance, not
a help.