YOUTHFUL MASTERS.
When Ignatius of Loyola was governing the Society, the multiplicity
of affairs which he had to administer, and the absorption of mind
which they demanded, did not prevent him from devoting to every minute
element the attention which it specially invited. Hence he required
the young Scholastics, who were reviewing their literary studies at
Valencia, to send him their orations and a poem. So, too, with the
Masters of the lower classes at Messina, in Sicily. This college had
opened with the higher courses of letters; but the very next year such
numerous throngs of younger boys came asking for admission, that the
system, begun with Rhetoric and Humanities, was carried down to meet
their needs; and the entire course was distributed into five grades.
Ignatius required the teachers of these lower grades, no less than
those of the higher, to write each week, and send him an account of the
affairs of his class.[182]
It is indeed an eventful moment, when a man becomes a teacher of
others. They may be boys. But, whether they are boys merely blossoming
into life, or youths on the verge of manhood, the teacher of them has
to be a teacher of men; and perhaps more so with the boy than with the
man, inasmuch as his control of the younger student has to be so much
the more complete. It is not merely such a control as will address the
intellects of men mature, whose characters are already far advanced
in the way of formation, or are perhaps fixed for life; but it must
be such as will form a whole human nature, which is still pliable and
docile.
As an almost universal rule, the Jesuit Scholastic, after his course
of Philosophy, takes his place in a college to teach Grammar or
Literature. If it be asked, why should this be an almost universal
rule, several reasons are at hand. In the first place, the candidate
for admission into the Order has been accepted with special reference
to this work. If this reference was expressly overlooked, the candidate
so admitted is in an exceptional category. In the second place, the
whole tenor of what has to be said in the present chapter will show the
pedagogical policy in the arrangement. But, in the third place, not to
pass over too summarily one special fitness, I will say a few words
upon it at once.
The manner of teaching the young is oral and tutorial. All through the
Jesuit System the manner followed is oral: in the examinations of the
lower classes, where writing is admitted, it is only as a specimen of
style and composition that writing enters the examination exercises.
With the younger students, the manner of teaching is oral in its
most specific sense. It is not that generic quality which will suit
as well the lecturer or the public speaker. But it is the tutorial
manner, which includes a fund of sympathy, of that tact which supposes
sympathy, of such a superiority, both moral and intellectual, as
knows how to stoop, and elevate the boy by stooping, and does it all
naturally, instinctively, gracefully. In the ordinary course of human
affairs, this magnetic power of the teacher is more intense, according
as in years he is nearer to the subject on whom his ascendancy plays,
and by whom it is spontaneously admitted. I mean that inestimable and
precious subject, the mind and heart of the impressionable boy, who is
about to develop into manhood, first young, and then mature.
The youthful subject is rich, though not in positive acquisitions
already made its own; for, in this respect, it may rather be considered
_parum fructuosa_, as Sacchini says; that is, bearing little fruit as
yet, either of judgment or positive acquirements. But it is rich in
its promise, as it struggles upward into the sunshine of varied and
beautiful truth. This is the fact which imposes upon liberal education
the duty of omitting nothing that is either beautiful or polished,
in imagination, thought, or style. It justifies Belles Lettres and
the most finished course of Literature, as being the chosen garden of
flowers and fruit, to entertain withal, richly and exquisitely, the
youthful promise of mind, sentiment, and heart.
Or, inverting the figure, if we liken the mind itself in youth to
the choice and prolific soil of a garden, we may note that, to till
such soil, there is need of a gardener who has a delicate hand and a
light touch. He must not be a lecturer who stands off, nor a speaker
who declaims, nor a text-book monger who reads, and hears recitations
of what a book says; nor is he to dole out methods and analyses to
an inquisitive sense and emotional fancy, which, in the youthful
soul, are the temporary vesture of an unfolding intellect; even, as
in nature around, things tangible and palpable are bursting, to the
boy's inquisitive eyes, with the great intellectual truths which they
contain. Analyses, text-books, lectures are not the powers with the
young mind. But, often enough, we see where the real power lies; when
young men, scarcely as yet approaching the prime of life, exercise
over impressionable and brilliant youths, not much beneath themselves
in age, such a personal influence as bids fair to rank them among the
greater forces of human nature--forces which are great in leading,
because they know so well how to follow. That other form of ascendancy,
more purely intellectual, and originating in wide learning and maturity
of scholarship, belongs to the University Professor of a later stage of
life. Hence it appears that youthfulness in the Master is an advantage
for the tutorial teaching of the young.
The critics who drew up the preliminary _Ratio_ in 1586 were of opinion
that the Masters in the literary courses should be assigned to their
work, not after their course of Philosophy, but before.[183] They
would except from this arrangement only the Professor of Rhetoric;
perhaps, also, in the chief colleges, the Professor of Humanity or
Poetry; besides, of course, those "whose age or deportment shows that
they are too young to become Masters as yet, or too far advanced in
years to be kept back from their Philosophy." In support of this view,
they urge several reasons, which do not much concern us here; as, for
instance, that, if young men have once tasted of the subtleties of
the philosophers, they can hardly bring themselves to take pleasure
any more in the insipid subject-matter of Grammar; they will pore
over philosophical lore; they will branch off, during class, into
philosophical digressions, which may serve for show, but not for
utility. The critics also express a fear that these philosophers
will bring into the school-room a style of language infected with
philosophical terms; and they quote the eminent Jesuit, Annibal Codret,
to the effect that, if Philosophy has been tasted beforehand, nothing
brilliant in literary style can subsequently be guaranteed. But, these
arguments notwithstanding, the Society, when it came to sanction a
final arrangement, in the legislative document of 1599, seems to have
entertained a higher idea of the younger members, and of their ability
and resolution to shake off any deleterious effects of scholastic
Latin, when they advanced to the chair of purest Latinity. Hence the
legislation ordains that Philosophy is to be studied before undertaking
to teach Letters.[184]
There are several reasons, however, which, as urged by these critics,
are quite relevant to our present topic. They urge that Grammar studies
require a certain fervor, or alacrity, which is rather to be found
in persons who are younger, and so far are nearer to the thoughts
and sentiments of boyhood. The fuller results of education, in this
respect, are not to be had from them when older. If authority or
experience is felt to be wanting, it can readily be supplemented by the
Prefect of Studies, who is constantly in attendance on the classes of
Grammar; and his direction finds a sufficient response in the teacher's
aptitude and docility. Indeed, docility to counsel is so indispensable
a requisite, on the part of young teachers, that the General Mutius
Vitelleschi observes: "If they were to show themselves impatient
of correction, and were to refuse the necessary aids for becoming
efficient, they should on all accounts be removed from teaching,
even if they had filled only half a year; since it is more just and
expedient that one suffer shame, than that many be injured."[185]
Unless singular talents, or the bare force of circumstance, recommend
another course of action, it is not desirable that new teachers should
at once become Masters of the higher class of Grammar or of Humanity,
though otherwise not unfit for these grades. On all accounts, say the
critics, the rule should be that they start with the lowest classes,
and then, year after year, advance to the next higher grade, with the
best part of their scholars. A certain crudeness and inexperience
which, at the beginning, are unavoidable in their management, will
cause, as long as it lasts, not so much evil with the younger as with
the older students. Inexperience wears away with practice. Then again,
if the Masters go up each year, and the scholars go with them, the
same students are very much with the same teachers. The young people
have not to pass so often from one kind of management to another.
Frequent change entails a waste of time, until each party comes to know
the other, and understand his own as well as the other's part.[186]
In 1583, Father Oliver Manare, visiting the German Provinces by the
General's authority, had noticed this point, in his ordinance for the
management of _convictus_, or boarding colleges; that "frequent changes
were burdensome to the students themselves, because they were forced to
accommodate themselves often to new teachers or prefects."[187]
In the same sense, these critics, whom we are following, consider it
undesirable that a Master should resign his post in less than three
years. Frequent and manifold changes provoke complaints on the part
of the outside world. Besides, the Master's own efforts at acquiring
perfection in the magisterial art will be cut short. When there is no
prospective permanency in a position, the mind is not so seriously
applied to the work in hand.[188]
In all this, a most important question regarding boys is being faced
by these critics; and a definite practical solution is adopted. The
question is, which of the two alternatives to adopt, whether to submit
boys to one person's dominant influence, or to pass them on through
the hands of divers experienced and permanent Professors, stationed
respectively in the different grades. This latter alternative, if it is
understood to mean that one Professor remains perpetually in one grade,
and another in another, scarcely seems to merit consideration with
them, except as regards the two highest literary classes,--of Poetry
and Rhetoric,--where the requirements of erudition are so considerable
as to need a lengthened term of years for filling the chairs worthily.
But, if the alternative regarding permanent Professors means that
the same teachers remain constantly within the limits of the same
curriculum, then the question seems to be the one which the critics of
the preliminary _Ratio_ argue about in both senses, for and against;
and they finally arrive at a solution, or rather a compromise.[189]
The severest thing they say against the plan is in this wise, when
speaking directly of the two highest grades: "Perpetuity of that
kind may give occasion to mere idleness and indifference; for after
acquiring, in the first years, some esteem and name for their learning
(in Poetry or Rhetoric), Masters prefer to enjoy the fruit and name
of the labor already undergone, however moderate that was, rather
than wear themselves out with new labors. Hence they make no new
acquisitions in the learning and accomplishments proper to their
branch; they get rooted in very much the same spot, and teach what they
have taught before over and over again, though with some variations.
What is worse, as if they were quite worn out with their prolonged
exertions, they say that they cannot any longer stand all the labor of
exercising their students; whence everything freezes, and they ask for
an assistant, who, if he is unlearned, does more harm than good; if
learned, then why are two doing the work of one?"
The solution which they arrive at is a compromise, which recognizes
peculiar advantages in both arrangements. It is embodied in several
rules of the _Ratio Studiorum_.[190] As many perpetual Professors
as possible, for Grammar and Rhetoric, are to be provided; and some
candidates for admission to the Order, who seem qualified for this
field of work, though apparently not likely to succeed in the higher
studies of the Society, may be admitted on this condition, that they
devote themselves in perpetuity to this work of zeal. Thus such
exigencies are provided for as postulate a perpetuity of professorship
within the same limited curriculum.
On the other hand, the normal process is that which arranges a constant
succession of teachers in the college, but not a constant change with
the same boys. The same boys go hand in hand with the one Master,
with whom they have most to do. And no one is to take charge of them,
however transiently, says the General Vitelleschi, "whether on account
of fewness of numbers, or merely to supply for another in his absence,
of whom it is not certain that he is qualified for the post."[191] The
very frequent mention, in all these discussions, of something like
domestic tragedies resulting from the change of masters, seems to
show two things; first, it justifies the practice of keeping the same
Professor over the same boys for a certain term of years, if not until
the class itself dissolves into higher courses; secondly, it shows what
a usual condition it was for masters to have won the most absolute
attachment to themselves, in the exercise of their magisterial duties,
both on the side of parents and on the part of the scholars. Thus,
speaking of the Professors mounting with their classes, the critics
say: "They will have observed what their disciples need; they will take
them up to the next class. And hence, that changing of Masters, which
has caused so many tragic scenes, will not be felt so much."[192]
Add to these elements of permanency and identity, another which
is most fundamental of all, the identity of their formation as
Masters; so that the young Jesuits, as the General Visconti sums up
the matter in 1752, "must have the most accomplished Professors of
Rhetoric, immediately after their novitiate, men who not only are
altogether eminent in this faculty, but who know how to teach, and
make everything smooth for them; men of eminent talent and the widest
experience in the art; who are not merely to form good scholars, but
to train good Masters"; and that "two years entire must be given to
Rhetoric, according to the custom of the Society, which term is not
to be abridged, unless necessity is urgent."[193] Add, moreover, the
uniformity of plan, "so that the form of our schools may be everywhere
as much as possible the same, and, when Masters are changed, itself
need undergo no change."[194] It follows that, though the flow of
new blood is constantly entering the pedagogic body, and a constant
renewal is taking place, neither the permanency nor the identity of
the teaching body and its system is found to depend upon the same
individuals remaining at the same posts. Naturally, such conditions
are not to be looked for, except in the special circumstances of a
religious community, with perfect organization in the body, with the
conscientiousness of a self-denying formation actuating the members,
with the landmarks of traditions, and a statutory method to show the
way; and, finally, with executive officials adequate to control.
As to this last-named condition of executive superintendence over
persons and things in the system, several rules for the Prefect of
Studies of these literary courses will explain themselves. The _Ratio_
of 1599 says: "Let him have the rules of the Masters and scholars, and
see that they are observed, as if they were his own. Let him help the
Masters themselves and direct them, and be especially cautious that the
esteem and authority due to them be not in the least impaired. Let him
be very solicitous that the new Preceptors follow with accuracy the
manner of teaching, and other customs of their predecessors, provided
that these were not foreign to our method; so that persons outside may
not have reason to find fault with the frequent change of Masters. Once
a fortnight, at least, let him listen to each one teaching."[195]
This moral identity being secured, in the ways, means, and views of the
teaching body, the individual and personal elements, which each Master
brings to bear upon the work before him, are no more interfered with,
or hampered by community of method, than are all the varieties of race,
nation, politics, and environment, slighted or interfered with by a
single system of collegiate institution being placed in their midst.
It was in view of being everywhere, that the system was cast in its
precise and adjustable form, so that, in spite of being everywhere, it
should be found equally manageable and effective. And similarly, in
spite of the system itself being one, the play of individual talents
can be various, as are the movable factors in any great organization.
We may close this chapter by observing several far-reaching
consequences of the foregoing principles. In the first place, those
who, after personal experience in the classes, come to take charge
of colleges in the capacity of Rectors, are found, say the critics
of 1586, to take full and accurate account of studies and Professors
alike; for they themselves "have borne the burden of the schools, and
know how to sympathize with others from their own experience"; a fact
which is the more conducive to the end in view, as "colleges have been
instituted for the study of letters. Besides, not unfrequently there
arise in the classes, especially of the smaller colleges, difficulties
which can scarcely be overcome, except by a Rector who has personal
experience to guide him; otherwise, whether he chances to solve the
difficulty aright, or solves it awry, he will not do much good either
way, since they do not give him the credit of knowing how."[196]
The "smaller colleges" spoken of here, as more liable to encounter
internal difficulties, are contrasted elsewhere by these critics with
"the greater and principal ones, in which there are many counsellors
or referees at hand, to whom the Masters can have recourse for
assistance; and the schools themselves have sufficient authority."
But, in what they call the minor colleges, "the authority of the
schools depends for the most part on the reputation and authority of
the individual Masters," who happen at a given time to be filling the
posts.[197]
In the spirit of this personal and experienced concurrence with all the
affairs of the college, the Rector is required so to moderate the other
concerns of his office, as to be prompt in fostering and advancing
all literary exercises. He is to go often to the classes, those of
the lower faculties as well as of the higher.[198] Every month, or
at least every other month, he is to hold general consultations with
all the Masters below the course of Logic, the several Prefects being
present; and, after the reading of some selection from the _Ratio_,
concerning the Masters or the piety and good conduct of the students,
he is to inquire what difficulties occur, or what omissions are noticed
in the observance of rules.[199] Books are never to be wanting, in the
sufficiency desired by the members generally, whether they are engaged
in teaching, or are pursuing their studies.[200] To this regulation,
which concerns the chief authority in a Province, the revised _Ratio_
of 1832 adds: "The same is to be said of literary periodicals for
the use of the Professors; of museums, physical apparatus, and other
equipments, which are needed by a college according to its degree."
The General Visconti observes somewhat emphatically, that "in buying
books the Rectors will never consider the money of their colleges ill
spent."[201]
Jouvancy applies the same principle to publishing the literary
productions of the Masters. He first sketches the series of literary
productions expected from them,--the annual addresses of inauguration
to be given by each Professor in his own class, the public and solemn
one to be delivered, on the same inaugural occasion, by the Professor
of Rhetoric, the poem to be composed and read by the Master of Poetry;
then, during the year, a certain number of addresses to be delivered;
and, at the end, a tragedy composed by the Professor of Rhetoric, a
minor drama by the Professor of Poetry, both to be acted on the stage.
Jouvancy goes on to recommend that no public occasion be allowed to
go by, without receiving the tribute of some such literary work.
Then he adds: "Nor is that expense to be considered useless which is
incurred for printing and publishing good poems. In all these matter,
splendors should be added to literary exercises, and to the exhibition
thereof, in such wise that everything meanwhile tends to solidity of
erudition."[202]
A second consequence of the literary cast, marking the whole Order,
is the vantage-ground on which it placed the Jesuits, with regard to
all the learning and the learned men of Europe. The fluent and elegant
command of the Latin language gave at once a mastery over the vehicle
of intercourse, in which all learning was conveyed. Our critics of
1586 sum up the bearings of this particular advantage under several
heads: The members of the Order deal with so many nations; scholastic
disputations, whether in Philosophy or Theology, are always conducted
in Latin; the members write so many books; they can do justice to
the ancient Fathers of the Church; they have to deal constantly with
learned men.[203]
A last consequence, which I shall present, is suggested by an
observation of the same writers, in the same place. It throws no little
light upon the history of the Society, and it shows the practical
adjustment of the educational system to the times. They say then,
it is by the studies of Belles-Lettres, more than by the higher
faculties, that the Society has, in a short time, been propagated
through all the principal parts of Christendom. Nor can it be preserved
better or more solidly, than by the same means through which it was
first introduced. Unless they endeavor to maintain this honorable
distinction, with which God has been pleased to grace the Society,
there is reason to fear that they themselves may yet lapse into the
barbarism, which they are far from admiring in others. "As to the
other faculties, which are brilliant enough of themselves, there is
no trouble in cultivating them. But, natural inclinations feeling a
repugnance for less conspicuous pursuits, people have, as it were, to
drag themselves to these lower faculties. They should take lesson,
therefore, by good husbandmen, who bestow more care on transplanted
and exotic growths than on native shoots."[204] And they proceed to
quote the rule, formulated in the words of Ignatius, by the General
Everard Mercurian, who required the institution and preservation of
the literary seminary.[205] So that we end here this discussion on the
lower faculties, at the point where we began.
In all well-assorted plans each element has a reference to every other.
Men must match the work, and the work be suited to the men. Were the
men not formed, the best system would settle into an inert state; and,
the more consistency and vitality of its own it offered to contribute,
the more inept and inert would it look, a memorial of what it might do,
dead to what it can. In itself, and in its effects, it might appear to
be out of date, as not being understood. Only the practical working of
a thing, by the man who understands it, shows it off for what it is
worth. This is a rule quite universal, wherever practical insight is
needed for the working of a mechanism. It must be worked intelligently
to be understood. Once it is understood, the practical intelligence
grows.