Mr. Quick, the English educationist, asserts that “since the Revival of Learning, no body of men has played so important a part in education as the Jesuits.” And yet, as the same author says, “about these Jesuit schools there does not seem to be much information accessible to the English reader.” (Educational Reformers, pp. 33–34.) It is true, indeed, that during the past few years much has been said and written about the Jesuit schools; in fact, they have occupied the attention of the public more, perhaps, than ever before. However, with the exception of the excellent book of Father Thomas Hughes, S. J. (Loyola and the Educational System of the Jesuits, 1892), most of what has been offered to American and English readers is entirely untrustworthy. The account given of the Jesuit system in Histories of Education used in this country, as those of Compayré, Painter, and Seeley, is a mere caricature. Instead of drawing from the original sources, these authors have been content to repeat the biased assertions of unreliable secondary authorities. Some observations on American Histories of Education will be found at the end of this book (p. 649 sqq.). The publication of a new work on the educational system of the Jesuits may be justified at the present day. During the last decade, educational circles in this country have been greatly agitated about various questions of the utmost importance: the elective system, the value of the study of the classics, [iv]the function of the college and its relation to the high school and university, and the problem of moral and religious training. It has been the author’s intention to view the Jesuit system chiefly in the light of these modern problems. These important educational questions have been treated at some length, and it is hoped that on this account the work may engage the attention of all who are interested in education.

I feel almost obliged to apologize for one feature of the book, viz., the numerous quotations and references. Though aware that there is among American and English readers a sort of antipathy against many references, I have yet deemed it necessary to quote freely from various sources. This course I am forced to adopt, as I do not wish to lay before the reader my own opinions about the educational system of the Jesuits, but I want to show what this system is according to the original sources. These are, above all, the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, and the Ratio Studiorum, which, however, must be supplemented by other documents. For, many points of the Ratio Studiorum are intelligible only in the light of the decrees of the Legislative Assemblies of the Order, the regulations of the General and Provincial Superiors, and the commentaries of prominent Jesuit educators. A great deal of this material has been published by Father Pachtler, in four volumes of the great collection Monumenta Germaniae Paedagogica (Berlin 1887–1894); other valuable information has been published within the last few years, in the Monumenta Historica Societatis Jesu, especially in the part entitled Monumenta Paedagogica, which appeared in 1901 and 1902. An account of these works is given in the Bibliographical [v]Appendix, under the heading: Primary Sources.

Another reason which moved me to make use of numerous quotations was the desire to show what distinguished historians and educators outside the Society, particularly non-Catholics, both in America and Europe, have said on the educational system of the Jesuits. I wished also to call attention to points of contact between the Ratio Studiorum and other famous educational systems. As so many features of the Jesuit system have been misrepresented, a work of this kind must, at times, assume a polemical attitude. Painful as controversy is, the unfair criticism of many writers has compelled me to contest their positions. The style of the book may not always be as smooth as is desirable. In partial extenuation of this defect, it should be stated that a considerable amount of the material had to be translated, chiefly from the Latin, German, and French. It has been my principal aim to be faithful to the original, and in general, to write in the simplest possible language, so as to let the facts speak without attempt at literary embellishment.

I desire to acknowledge my obligation to several friends of Woodstock College, who rendered kind assistance in revising the manuscript and reading the proofs. In particular I wish to thank the Rev. Samuel Hanna Frisbee, S. J., editor of the Woodstock Letters, who allowed me the freest use of the Letters and furnished other valuable material.

R. S.

Woodstock College, Maryland,

March 12, 1903.

We are living in an age of school reforms and pedagogical experiments. The question of higher education in particular is warmly debated in England, France, Germany, and the United States. The respective merits of rival educational systems are topics of lively discussion and comment in numberless books and articles. New “curricula” are planned on all sides, and new courses are offered in the various seats of learning. Not long ago it was stated that “the American College was passing.” Harvard, Yale, Columbia, the University of Pennsylvania, and other leading schools, now accept the studies of the professional schools as meeting the requirements of the last year in college. Yale University was also reported as making ready to follow in the wake of Harvard and abolish the study of Greek as a requisite for admission. The University of Michigan, abandoning the attempt to distinguish between forms of admission or courses of study pursued in the college, will give up degrees like bachelor of letters or bachelor of philosophy, and confer on all its students indiscriminately at graduation the degree of bachelor of arts, in this respect following what is substantially the procedure of Harvard. Harvard, with its system of election, election in the preparatory schools, in the college, and in the professional schools, is the forerunner [2]in the revolution, and to the course it has laid down the other colleges and universities either have adapted themselves or are preparing so to do. “Faculties and Presidents are trying to tear down the old order which they no longer honor.”⁠[1]

For two or three decades various attempts and experiments have been made to establish a “new order.” But the dissatisfaction seems rather to grow than to diminish. The man who has kept in touch with pedagogical publications knows right well that there exists in our high schools and colleges an unsettled state of affairs and a wide-spread discontent with present methods. Thus, in the Educational Review, we find the following statements: “It is not without reason that one so often hears the state of the educational world described as chaotic.”⁠[2] The first sentence of an article on “Latin in the High School” informs us that “even to the superficial observer it must be apparent that our secondary Latin teaching is in a state of unrest.” “Further proof of this wide-spread feeling of insecurity lies in the susceptibility of our Latin teachers to fashions or ‘fads’, in a surprising readiness to adopt innovations and carry them to an extreme.”⁠[3] Many will not care much for the “dead” languages, if only the “sciences” are taught well. [3]What is said about the sciences? The same volume contains an article entitled: “The Disappointing Results of Science Teaching.” Therein it is stated that “the results of the teaching of science in schools of all kinds have been very disappointing to the friends and advocates of science teaching.... The work is unsatisfactory when the best opportunities are provided and skilled teachers devote all their time to it, indeed where they practically have everything their own way.... This has given the advocates of the older literary studies a chance to look over their spectacles and say: ‘I told you so.’ It is plain that class-room science-teaching has no history to be proud of, but the reverse. Something is radically wrong when, after a generation of science-teaching, those who have had the best available teaching in it do not show some of the superiority which is claimed for it in insight, tact, skill, judgment, and affairs in general.”⁠[4] Complaints of a similar nature can be found in more recent publications.

It is evident, then, that final judgment on the modern system is reserved for the future. If we consider the results obtained within the last ten years, it appears unintelligible that many writers on education are so unreserved in denouncing systems of the past, which have a “history to be proud of.” Indeed, it may be said that the present educational movement is characterized by a morbid craving for novelties, but still more by contempt of old traditions. Modern pedagogy has rightly been called a Proteus. It daily assumes new forms so that even its most ardent followers seem not to know what they are really [4]grappling with. In very truth, pedagogists of to-day appear to be quite certain of only one point, that “the old is worthless and that something new must be produced at any price.”⁠[5]

We do not deny that our age demands “something” new in education. Growth and development are necessary in educational systems. Every age and every nation has its own spirit, its peculiar ways and means to meet a given end, and these very ways and means inevitably exert a great influence on educational methods and call for modifications and adaptations of what has met the purpose of the past. An educational system, fitted in every detail to all times and all nations, is an impossibility. For the majority of cases it would be a Procrustean bed. It would be folly, therefore, to claim that even the best system of education in all its details were as fit for the twentieth century as for the sixteenth, or that the same system in its entirety might be introduced into Japan or China as well as into Germany, England and the United States.

For an educational system must aim not at educating men in general, but at educating the youth of a [5]certain age in a certain country. Hence the necessity of changes, of development. Education is something living and must grow, otherwise it will soon wither and decay. There are, however, certain fundamental principles, certain broad outlines of education, based on sound philosophy and the experience of centuries, which suffer no change. Unfortunately, it is some of these principles which have been abandoned by modern pedagogists, and it is for this reason that many “school reforms” of these days have proved mere “school changes” or, as Professor Münsterberg of Harvard University styles them, “school deteriorations.”⁠[6] This important distinction between what is essential and what is accidental in education, has too frequently been disregarded by those advocates of the new system who claim that the old principles and methods must be given up, because they are not suited to cope with modern conditions. What is but secondary in education, as for instance the election of courses and branches, has been proclaimed to be of vital importance, and its absence in the older systems has been considered as the strongest proof that these systems are entirely antiquated. This mistake has more than once been made by those who attack one of the celebrated old systems, the Ratio Studiorum of the Jesuits.

Only three years ago, President Eliot of Harvard University, in a paper read before the American Institute of Instruction, July 10, 1899, advocated the extension of electivism to secondary or high schools.⁠[7] [6]As opposed to his favorite system, President Eliot mentioned “the method followed in Moslem countries, where the Koran prescribes the perfect education to be administered to all children alike. Another instance of uniform prescribed education may be found in the curriculum of Jesuit colleges, which has remained almost unchanged for four hundred years, disregarding some trifling concessions made to natural sciences.” The President further declared that “the immense deepening and expanding of human knowledge in the nineteenth century and the increasing sense of the sanctity of the individual’s gifts and will-power have made uniform prescriptions of study in secondary schools impossible and absurd.”

As the Jesuits, together with the Moslems, are said to uphold prescribed courses, they are implicitly charged with attempting what is “absurd,” nay “impossible.” In our days of critical and fair-minded research, such sweeping condemnations are beyond excuse; they show forth no careful and impartial examination of the system censured. But we have reasons to suspect that lack of sympathy and of knowledge impairs the judgment of most opponents of the Jesuits. “True criticism,” writes a distinguished English historian, “must be sympathetic;”⁠[8] where there is antipathy a false appreciation is inevitable. That lack of sympathy has led many critics into unfair discriminations in regard to the educational system of the Jesuits, can be proved by numerous instances. In the sixteenth century, Protestant as well as Catholic schools made Latin the principal subject matter of [7]instruction, and the study of the mother tongue was well nigh neglected. In many Protestant schools the use of the Latin language in conversation, school exercises and dramatic performances was more strictly enforced than in Jesuit colleges, and those who spoke the vernacular were punished.⁠[9] Should we not suppose that in Protestant and Jesuit schools the same reasons suggested the use of the Latin tongue? Some Protestant critics assign quite different reasons, but without proof. In a work published by order of the Prussian Ministry for Instruction,⁠[10] we find the following: “The School System of Saxony of 1528 provided Latin schools pure and simple. Why? Because it demanded an extraordinary amount of time to make Latinists of German boys, so that little time and energy were left for other subjects. Melanchthon, for this reason, excluded even Greek from his plan of studies. As Latin, at that time, was the universal language of all Western Christendom, the official language of the Roman Church and of diplomatic intercourse, the language of the most celebrated code of laws, the only language of learning, mastery of this language was the first and indispensable condition for a career in Church and State, and for every participation in the higher intellectual life.” However, when speaking of the great stress laid on Latin in the Jesuit schools, the same author does not hesitate to assert: “A more zealous cultivation of the mother tongue [8]would have opposed the Romish-international tendencies of the Order.”⁠[11] Here we must ask: Was not the Latin language, for Catholics as well as for Protestants, the language of learning, of diplomatic intercourse, of the most celebrated code of laws? And was not the mastery of this language, equally for the Catholics, the indispensable condition for a career in Church and State, and for every participation in the higher intellectual life? Consequently, the Jesuits had to insist on this language as well as the Protestants, and that for the very same reasons. Why, then, impute to them other motives of rather a suspicious character?

Nor are scholarly works of prominent American writers free from similar misstatements. Dr. Russell, Dean of Teachers’ College, Columbia University, writes: “Catholic and Protestant schools alike at the beginning of the seventeenth century, gave little heed to the substance of the ancient civilization. Both alike were earnestly devoted to the study of the Latin language—the Jesuits, because it was the universal speech of their Order; the Protestants, because it was the first step towards a knowledge of Holy Writ.”⁠[12] No proof is given to substantiate the discrimination between Protestants and Catholics. Latin was, as [9]Dr. Rethwisch affirms, “the universal language of all Western Christendom,” not only the universal speech of the Order of Jesuits. Besides, as the Catholics used extensively the Latin Vulgate of the Bible, the study of Latin was for them much more than for the Protestants “the first step towards a knowledge of Holy Writ.”

Lack of sympathy is the least unworthy reason assignable for President Eliot’s grouping of only Jesuits and Moslems as the upholders of prescribed courses. Have not all European countries prescribed courses that resemble the system of the Jesuits incomparably more than President Eliot’s electivism? Germany, for instance, although it offers various schools: classical (Gymnasium), Latin-scientific (Real-Gymnasium), scientific (Real-Schule), has within these schools strictly uniform curricula.⁠[13] And yet American educators do not hesitate to say that “the organization of the higher school system, especially in Prussia, is worthy of general imitation;” that “for many years American educators have drawn professional inspiration from German sources;” that “the experience of Germany can teach us much, if we will but learn to consider it aright;” and that “a uniform course of study for all schools of a particular grade, and a common standard for promotion and graduation, can be made most serviceable in a national scheme of education.”⁠[14] [10]Why then mention only Jesuits and Moslems? Considering the esteem in which German schools and scholarship are held by many, it would evidently have produced little effect to have said: “Moslems, the Jesuits and the Germans have prescribed courses.”

Many writers on education have been misled in their estimate of the Jesuit system by blindly accepting and uncritically repeating the censures of a few authors who, deservedly or not, have acquired a reputation as pedagogical writers. Thus Quick, in numerous passages of his Educational Reformers, pays a high tribute to the Jesuit system. In a few places, especially in one paragraph, he finds fault with it. In some American works⁠[15] we find this one paragraph quoted as Quick’s judgment on the Jesuit system, and not a word is said of his hearty approbation of most points of that system. It is also most unfortunate that American teachers and writers on education place so much confidence in the productions of M. Compayré, especially his History of Pedagogy. For many reasons this work must be called a most unreliable source of [11]information.⁠[16] In the chapter on the Jesuits in particular, there are not many sentences which do not contain some misstatement. Whereas nearly all writers, even those most hostile to the Society, acknowledge at least a few good points in its educational system, Compayré cannot admit therein a single redeeming feature. The Jesuits are blamed alike in their failures and in their successes. It is sad to think that from such untrustworthy sources American teachers largely derive their information about the educational labors of the Jesuits and of Catholics in general. Can we wonder that so many prejudices prevail against Jesuit education, of which many know only an ugly caricature?

Indeed, lack of sufficient knowledge is at the root of most censures of the educational principles and methods of the Society. In nearly every case of adverse criticism, it is apparent that a scholarly examination of the official documents has been dispensed [12]with, and that the oft-refuted calumnies of virulent partisan pamphlets have simply been repeated. Or have the assailants of the educational system of the Jesuits carefully studied the original sources: the Fourth Part of the Constitutions, the Ratio Studiorum, and the numerous other documents of the Society, treating of its educational system? Or have they themselves studied in Jesuit colleges? Have their children, relatives or friends been Jesuit pupils? Have they been sufficiently acquainted with Jesuit teachers? If not, is it fair and conscientious criticism to condemn a system about which they possess no reliable information whatever? If now-a-days one writes on the philosophy of India, on the doctrine of Zoroaster, or on the education of the Greeks and Romans, he adorns his books with an elaborate scientific apparatus. He studies the original languages or consults the best translations and commentaries, and spares no pains to let the reader know that he has drawn from trustworthy sources. How much more care should be taken if, not philosophic systems or nations of a far-off past, but a living institution is concerned? No matter how much opposed it may be to the critic’s views, fair treatment and justice should never be denied, even if all sympathy is withheld. But a few years ago a Protestant writer in Germany, reviewing Father Duhr’s work on the educational system of the Society, recommended the work most earnestly to the Protestant educators; for, as he said, “even our scholarly works on education betray a shocking ignorance in regard to everything pertaining to the Jesuits.”⁠[17] It [13]is needless to say that this remark has an application for America and England.

The study of this system cannot be without interest to those who devote themselves to educating youth. During the two centuries preceding the suppression of the Order, this system exerted a world-wide influence on hundreds of thousands of pupils, and, although in a lesser degree, does so at present.⁠[18] In 1901 the Jesuits imparted a higher education to more than fifty-two thousand youths, of which number seven thousand two hundred belong to this country. The educational work of the Jesuits produced most brilliant results in former centuries and received most flattering commendations from Protestant scholars and rulers, and from atheistic philosophers.

However, the study of the Ratio Studiorum is not only of historical interest. Protestant writers admit that a close examination of the Jesuit system may teach the educators of our age many valuable lessons. According to Quick “it is a system, a system built up by the united efforts of many astute intellects and showing marvellous skill in selecting means to attain a clearly conceived end. There is then in the history of education little that should be more interesting or might be more instructive to the master of an English public school than the chapter about the Jesuits.”⁠[19] Davidson, in spite of some severe strictures, is not less convinced of the advantages which may be derived [14]from the study of Jesuit education: “While it is impossible for lovers of truth and freedom to have any sympathy with either the aim or matter of Jesuit education, there is one point connected with it that well deserves our most serious consideration, and that is its success. This was due to three causes, first, to the single-minded devotion of the members of the Society; second, to their clear insight into the needs of their times; third, to the completeness with which they systematized their entire course, in view of a simple, well-defined aim. In all these matters we can well afford to imitate them. Indeed, the education of the present day demands just the three conditions which they realize.”⁠[20]

For many the study of one of the old systems may be the greatest novelty. So much is said now-a-days about the new pedagogy and modern psychology, that it might appear as if the past had been utterly ignorant of the true nature of the child and of the rational methods of education. Still the writer hopes to establish that, what the ablest educators, even of our own age, have pronounced essential for the training of the young, is contained in the educational system of the Jesuits. It is not claimed that this system is perfect. No educational system can be found which, both in plan and execution, is without defects. The Society of Jesus has never denied the possibility and necessity of improvements in its educational system; nor has it ever claimed that the Ratio Studiorum, in every detail was to be applied to all countries and to all ages. Changes were made in the course of time; [15]and in many passages of the Ratio Studiorum it is expressly stated that the Superiors are empowered to make these changes, according to the demands of time and place. Thus the teaching of the Jesuits varies considerably in different countries, without necessitating any change in the Order’s legislation on education.

A biographer of the founder of the Society says with reference to the educational system of the Order: “It is a plan which admits of every legitimate progress and perfection, and what Ignatius said of the Society in general, may be applied to its system of studies in particular, namely, that it ought to suit itself to the times and comply with them, and not make the times suit themselves to it.”⁠[21] The advice of St. Ignatius is undoubtedly of vital importance to the Order, if now and in future it wants to do the work for which it was instituted. In fact, the versatility of the Jesuits has become proverbial and a reproach to the Order; they are said to be so shrewd and cunning that, among those hostile to the Order, the very word “Jesuit” has come to mean the incarnation of craft and subtlety. Is it probable that the Jesuits on a sudden have utterly forgotten the all-important injunction of their founder? Is it probable that they who are said to be most ambitious and most anxious of success, have so little suited themselves to the times, as to leave their method of teaching unchanged for centuries? Is it possible that the men who, as Davidson says, had such “a clear insight into the needs of their times” do not adapt their system to the needs of our age? Or is their system not capable of being suited to modern times? This indeed is the favorite objection raised [16]now-a-days. “The Ratio Studiorum is antiquated and difficult to reform.... For nearly three centuries they [the Jesuits] were the best schoolmasters of Europe; they revolutionized instruction as completely as Frederick the Great modern warfare, and have thus acted, whether they meant it or not, as pioneers of human progress.... Whatever may have been the service of the Jesuits in past times, we have little to hope for them in the improvement of education at present. Governments have, on the whole, acted wisely by checking and suppressing their colleges.”⁠[22] At any rate, the study of a system which for “centuries furnished the best schoolmasters of Europe and completely revolutionized instruction”, must be interesting for the student of the history of education. For this reason we first present the history, or the development, of this system. In the second part we shall explain its principles, its theory and practice, with special reference to modern educational views.

The following remarkable passage is taken from the work of one who cannot be charged with partiality to the Jesuits,—I mean Frederick Paulsen, a professor of the University of Berlin, the author of the great “History of Higher Education.”⁠[23] In this work, after having described the marvellous success which the Jesuits achieved in the sixteenth century, the author asks: “What was the secret source of the power of these men? Was it that they were ‘men filled with wickedness’, as Raumer styles them? Or was it that they were more cunning, more unscrupulous than the rest? No, this would ascribe to lying and deceit more than it can do.... There is in the activity of the Order something of the quiet, yet irresistible, manner of working which we find in the forces of nature. Certainty and superiority characterize every movement.... [18]Whence does the Order derive this power? I think it can arise only from a great idea, not from base and selfish desires. Now the root idea which animated all the members of this Society, and which inspired them with enthusiasm, was that their Order was the chosen instrument for saving the Church; that they were the knights, the champions, of the ruler of the Church, ready, if God should so will it, to fall as first victims in the great battle against a heathen and heretical world.... Lasting results cannot be achieved by an idea unless it is embodied in some external system. The system of the Society of Jesus, from the fundamental principles to the minutest details of discipline, is admirably fitted and adapted to its ends. The greatest possible power of the individual is preserved without derangement of the organism of the Order; spontaneous activity and perfect submission of the will, contrasts almost irreconcilable, seem to have been harmoniously united in a higher degree by the Society than by any other body.”

These remarks of the Berlin Professor were made with special reference to the educational system of the Society, as laid down in the Ratio Studiorum. Years before another German Protestant had spoken similarly on the same subject. Ranke, in his History of the Popes, admits that the Jesuits were very successful in the education of youth, but he claims that this success can scarcely be credited to their learning or their piety, but rather to the exactness and nicety of their methods. He finds in their system a combination of learning with untiring zeal, of exterior pomp with strict asceticism, of unity of aim with unity of government, such as the world has never witnessed before or since.

[19]

Now-a-days a great interest is taken in the historical aspects of educational systems. The first question, then, which presents itself is: From what sources did the Jesuits derive the principles and methods by which they were enabled to obtain such success? It is evident that the Jesuit system was not altogether the original work of a few clever men who produced a system with methods previously unheard of; their Ratio Studiorum was, to a great extent, a prudent adaptation and development of methods which had existed before the foundation of the Order. It has frequently been maintained that all, or at least much, of what is good in the Ratio Studiorum, was drawn from the famous Plan of Studies of John Sturm, the zealous Protestant reformer and schoolman of Strasburg. Dr. Russell is convinced of this fact, when he writes: “Sturm could have received no greater compliment than was paid him by the Society of Jesus in incorporating so many of his methods into the new Catholic schools.”⁠[24] Indeed, Sturm himself expressed in 1565 the suspicion that the Jesuits had drawn from his sources.⁠[25] As we shall see in the next chapters, both Sturm and Ignatius of Loyola drew, in all likelihood, from the same sources, namely, the traditions of the great University of Paris and the humanistic schools of the Netherlands.

It is a very common error to argue: post hoc, ergo propter hoc. Anything good found after the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century, is by many writers directly ascribed to its influence. Thus it is said that, after the Protestants had awakened a zeal [20]for learning, the Jesuits determined to avail themselves of this zeal in the interest of the Catholic Church, and to combat the Reformation with its own weapon.⁠[26] To the same purpose Dr. Russell writes: “The Jesuits in employing schools to check the growth of heresy and to win back to the Church apostate Germany, merely borrowed the devil’s artillery to fight the devil with. And they used it to good effect.”⁠[27] Two serious errors are at the root of such statements: First, it is taken for granted that the Society of Jesus was instituted directly against Protestantism, and that it used schools and learning only to counteract this movement. In the next chapter we shall prove that this view of the Society is entirely unhistorical. The second error underlying this view is the implicit belief that, before the Protestant Reformation, education was at a very low ebb, and that there existed little, if any, zeal for learning. In order to understand the rise and progress of the educational system of the Jesuits and its dependence on other schools, it will be necessary to sketch the status of education in Western Christendom before the foundation of the Society of Jesus. This sketch must be very imperfect and fragmentary in a work like the present. Besides, there exists as yet no history of education in the Middle Ages which can be considered as satisfactory, although some valuable monographs on the subject have appeared within the past few years.⁠[28]

[21]

§ 1. Schools at the Close of the Middle Ages.

The intellectual darkness of the Middle Ages has been long a favorite theme for popular writing. Many have had the fixed notion that the Church, afraid of progress, ever set her face against the enlightenment of the people, but that at length her opposition was beaten down by the craving for knowledge aroused by the principles of the Reformation, and that, in consequence of the break with Rome, various schools at once arose in Protestant countries. Such popular declamations have been disavowed by all honest Protestant historians.⁠[29] They admit that, what may be called the darkness of these centuries, was owing to the political and social conditions of the nations after the Northern barbarians had nearly annihilated ancient civilization, but not to any hostility of the Church against learning and education. “The grossest ignorance of the Dark Ages,” says an English historian, “was not due to the strength of the ecclesiastical system, but to its weakness. The improvement of education formed a prominent object with every zealous churchman and every ecclesiastical reformer from the days of Gregory the Great to the days when the darkness passed away under the influence of the [22]ecclesiastical revival of the eleventh and twelfth centuries.”⁠[30]

In another passage of his great work the same author says of education before the Reformation: “It may be stated with some confidence that, at least in the later middle age, the smallest towns and even the larger villages possessed schools where a boy might learn to read and to acquire the first rudiments of ecclesiastical Latin, while, except in very remote and thinly populated regions, he would never have to go far to find a regular grammar school. That the means of reading, writing and the elements of Latin were far more widely diffused than has sometimes been supposed, is coming to be generally recognized by students of medieval life.”⁠[31]

It is now not only acknowledged that much was done for the education of the people, but also that all education during the Middle Ages proceeded from the Church.⁠[32] Nothing but prejudice or ignorance of the [23]past can raise any doubts about the merits of the Church in the field of education. We cannot narrate what the Church has done to advance popular education in the earlier Middle Ages. Numerous councils,—for instance, those of Orange in France (529), Constantinople (680), Aix-la-Chapelle (802),⁠[33] Mentz (813), Rome (826 and 1179),—exhorted the clergy to instruct the children, “without accepting anything beyond a compensation the parents should offer freely,” as Bishop Arbyton of Basle (died in 821) writes. From the twelfth century on the number of schools increased considerably.⁠[34]

Much more evidence is available about the schools of the closing Middle Ages. A great deal of it is published in the well-known History of the German People by Janssen.⁠[35] Although compulsory education was unknown, we learn from many records, preserved in towns and villages, that the schools were well attended. In the little town of Wesel there were, in 1444, five teachers employed to instruct the children in reading, writing, arithmetic, and choir-singing. In the district of the Middle Rhine, in the year 1500, [24]there were whole stretches of country where a “people’s school” was to be found within a circuit of every six miles. Small parishes even of five or six hundred souls were not without their village schools.⁠[36] The Protestant historian Palacky stated that, while examining documents in the archives of Bohemia, he took note of all the teachers whose names he happened to come across, and found that about the year 1400 the diocese of Prague must have had at least 640 schools. Taking this for the average, the 63 dioceses then existing in Germany would have possessed the respectable number of over 40,000 elementary or primary schools.⁠[37]

This conjecture may not be very accurate, but the evidence furnished by contemporary documents at least goes a great way to show that the number of schools was very large. The latter part of the Middle Ages was the time in which the burning zeal for learning led to the invention of the art of printing, and this art in turn still further increased the desire to learn and facilitated the work of education. In a pamphlet printed in Mentz, in 1498, it was said: “Everybody now wants to read and to write.” In the light of such facts, who does not see the absurdity of the assertion of Compayré and other writers that the primary school, whether Catholic or Protestant, is the child of the Reformation?⁠[38] Towards the end of the [25]fifteenth century good and respectable parents, at least in Germany, began to consider it their duty to let their children acquire an education. This interest in education naturally led to the establishment of many new schools. Complaints are even made in some cities that too many schools are opened. The facts given so far prove also that it is not correct to say that the German “people’s school” did not assume the shape of a school for the masses until the Reformation,⁠[39] or that medieval culture was but for the few, and that it was Luther who brought the schoolmaster into the cottage.⁠[40] Otherwise who frequented the numerous schools in towns and villages, where “everybody wanted to read and to write”?

What is now called “secondary education” was not as strictly distinguished from elementary and university training as it is now-a-days. From very early times higher education was cared for in numerous schools connected with monasteries and cathedrals. The merits of the Order of St. Benedict in preserving the treasures of classical literature are universally acknowledged. Its monks were not only the great clearers of land in Europe, at once missionaries and laborers, but also the teachers of the nations rising from barbarism to civilization.

Benedictine monasticism gave the world almost its only houses of learning and education, and constituted by far the most powerful civilizing agency in Europe, until it was superseded as an educational instrument by the growth of the universities. The period that [26]intervenes between the time of Charlemagne and the eleventh century has been well styled the Benedictine age. And before that period the numerous monastic schools of Ireland had been frequented by so many holy and learned men as justly to win for that country the title of Insula Sanctorum et Doctorum, the Island of Saints and Scholars.⁠[41] In general, careful historical research by modern scholars presents a picture of the medieval monks quite different from that given by the author of Ivanhoe and by other imaginative “mis-describers”, according to whom the monk was, if not a hypocritical debauchee, at the least a very ignorant and very indolent person.

We have to sketch chiefly the condition of education at the close of the Middle Ages. It is scarcely necessary to speak of Italy which, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, was the intellectual centre of Europe and at that time exhibited a literary activity such as no other period of history has ever witnessed. For it was in Italy that the renaissance began. This mighty movement, which marks the transition of the Middle Ages to modern times, effected a revolution in literature, science, art, life and education. From Italy it swept on over Europe and caused similar changes everywhere. What is called the classical education is the immediate outcome of the Italian Renaissance. During the first half of the fifteenth century there lived in Northern Italy one of the ablest and most amiable educators in the history of all ages: Vittorino da [27]Feltre.⁠[42] He modified considerably the medieval school system of the Trivium and Quadrivium. Although the classics, carefully selected, formed the groundwork of his course, other branches, as mathematics and philosophy, were not neglected. Due attention was devoted to the physical development of the pupils, and riding, fencing, and other gymnastic exercises were greatly encouraged. Vittorino lived among his pupils like a father in his family, revered and beloved. Poor scholars were not only instructed, but also fed, lodged, and clothed gratuitously. The secret of his wonderful influence lay in his lofty moral principles and his deeply religious spirit. In his calling he recognized a noble mission to which he devoted himself zealously and exclusively, without seeking anything for himself. His contemporaries called him the “Saintly Master”. His virginal purity charmed all who came into contact with him. Although not a priest, he daily recited the Divine office, frequently approached the sacraments and accustomed his pupils to receive holy communion monthly and to hear mass daily. This great educator’s fame spread far and wide, and eager youths flocked to him even from France, Germany and other countries. Many customs and practices found in humanistic schools north of the Alps may have been copied from Vittorino’s famous school. It is certain that his influence was felt in England, for one of his pupils, Antonio Beccaria, was secretary and “translator” of Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, the first patron of the new [28]learning in England,⁠[43] and the celebrated school of Winchester, founded by Bishop Langdon, was, in all probability, modeled after that of Vittorino.⁠[44]

It is almost superfluous to mention the keen interest in learning manifested by the Italian ecclesiastics of this period. They raised to the papacy the book-lover and enthusiastic student, Parentucelli; and he, as Nicholas V. (1447–1455), placed himself at the head of the great movement of the renaissance, and won immortal renown by founding the Vatican Library, where the glorious monuments of Greek and Roman intellect were collected under the protection of the Holy See. The second successor of Nicholas V. was Aeneas Sylvius (Pius II.), famous as a humanist scholar and author. But it is impossible here to enumerate all the ardent promoters of learning among the popes, cardinals and other church dignitaries of this time. So large a part of a churchman’s life did learning occupy in Italy, that no prelate considered his household complete without a retinue of scholars.⁠[45]—We cannot here trace the gradual spread of this mighty movement into other countries, but must confine ourselves to the bare mention of a few facts regarding the educational conditions.

What has often been said respecting the ignorance prevailing in Scotland before the Reformation, has been repudiated by the researches of Protestant historians, such as Burton, Lawson, Edgar, and others. It has been proved that this country, throughout the [29]latter part of the Middle Ages, possessed an abundance of educational facilities. We find here even an interesting example of compulsory higher education. At the instance of the clergy, in 1470, an act of parliament was passed providing that all barons and freeholders should, under penalty of twenty pounds, send their sons at the age of nine or ten years to the schools, to remain there until they had acquired a competent knowledge of Latin. They were then to attend the schools of art and law.⁠[46]

As regards secondary schools in England, it used to be commonly asserted that Edward VI., the first monarch of the Reformed Faith, was the great founder and reformer.⁠[47] Upwards of thirty free grammar schools founded at this time have permanently associated the reign of Edward VI. with popular education. The Schools Inquiring Commission in 1886 went further, and set down fifty-one schools to the credit of Edward. Modern historical research has broken, stick by stick, the whole bundle of old misrepresentations. “The fact is that the whole theory about the dearth of grammar schools and other schools still more elementary is a mere delusion. The immense prestige that Edward VI. has acquired as a patron of education is simply due to the fact that he refounded out of confiscated Church property some small percentage of schools which he and his rapacious father had destroyed. The probability is that England was far [30]better provided with grammar schools before the Reformation than it has ever been since.”⁠[48]

This startling statement has been confirmed by a careful study of the records of the time of Henry VIII. and Edward VI., from which it is clear that at least two hundred grammar schools must have been in existence before Edward came to the throne. Mr. Leach raises the number by the addition of another hundred, and says that three hundred is a moderate estimate for the year 1535;⁠[49] and this number is exclusive of elementary schools and universities. It will suffice to mention a few names of famous schools: Canterbury, Lincoln, Wells, York, Beverly, Chester, Southwell, Winchester, Eton, the school of Dean Colet in London, and the numerous schools attached to the monasteries. In regard to the great number of foundation schools established just after the Reformation, Professor Thorold Rogers maintains that it was not a new zeal for learning, but a very inadequate supply of that which had been so suddenly and disastrously destroyed.⁠[50]

During the period immediately preceding the Reformation, England possessed a great number of distinguished scholars, most of whom were ecclesiastics. The revival of letters was heartily welcomed by the clergy. The chief ecclesiastics of the day, as Wolsey, Warham, Fisher, Tunstall, Langton, Stokesley, Fox, [31]Selling, Grocyn, Whitford, Linacre, Colet, Pace, William Latimer, and numerous others, were not only ardent humanists, but thorough and practical churchmen.⁠[51]

Similar conditions existed on the European continent. The Latin City Schools towards the close of the Middle Ages were numerous throughout Germany.⁠[52] About this time, the intellectual condition of the people in Germany, the Netherlands and France was most beneficially influenced by the “Brethren of the Common Life”. Founded by Gerard Groot of Deventer, this fraternity at first was employed in the transcription of books, all profane studies being prohibited. They were supposed to restrict themselves exclusively to the reading of the Scriptures and the Fathers, not wasting their time over “such vanities as geometry, arithmetic, rhetoric, logic, grammar, lyric poetry, and judicial astrology.”⁠[53] These principles were extreme, and it is some consolation to find that the founder admitted the “wiser of the Gentile philosophers,” such as Plato, Aristotle, and Seneca. In 1393, a little scholar, Thomas Hammerken of Kempen, Rhineland, entered the school of Deventer; he was no other than the famous Thomas a Kempis, most probably the author of the Following of Christ.

Shortly after the death of Gerard Groot (1384), the labors of the Brethren were made to embrace a wider sphere, and especially to include the education of [32]youth. The prohibition against profane learning disappeared, Deventer became a most celebrated institution, and numerous schools were founded all over Flanders, France and Northern Germany. The settlements of the Brethren spread gradually along the Rhine as far as Suabia, and by the end of the fifteenth century they reached from the Scheldt to the Vistula, from Cambrai, through the whole of Northern Germany, to Culm in Prussia. In these schools, Christian education was placed high above mere learning, and the training of the young in practical religion and active piety was considered the most important duty. The whole system of instruction was permeated by a Christian spirit; the pupils learned to look upon religion as the basis of all human existence and culture, while at the same time they had a good supply of secular knowledge imparted to them, and they gained a genuine love for learning and study.⁠[54] The Brethren had been established by John Standonch, doctor of the Sorbonne, in the Collège de Montaigue in the University of Paris.⁠[55] The founder of the Society of Jesus studied in this college, and some suppose that the rules of the Poor Clerks, as they were often called, furnished Ignatius some ideas for his rules.⁠[56] This much is certain, that Ignatius had imbibed the spirit of those Brethren from the study of the works of Thomas a Kempis. It is related that at the time when he wrote the Constitutions of his Order, he had no other books in his room except the New Testament and the Following of Christ.

[33]

Youth eager for knowledge flocked from all parts to the schools of the Brethren. The number of scholars at Zwolle often rose to eight hundred or ten hundred; at Alkmaar to nine hundred; at Herzogenbusch to twelve hundred; and at Deventer, in the year 1500, actually to twenty-two hundred. Other celebrated Schools were at Liège and Louvain. The instruction being free in all these schools, they were open to students of the smallest means. In many of the towns also, where they had not started actual schools, the Brethren supplied teachers for the town schools, not unfrequently paid the expenses of the poorer scholars and supplied them with books, stationery and other school materials. In 1431 Pope Eugene sent orders to the bishops that they should prevent any interference with the beneficial work of these zealous educators. Pius II. and Sixtus IV. went even further in their support and encouragement. One of their most active patrons was Cardinal Nicholas of Cusa, renowned as a mathematician and the precursor of Copernicus. Nicholas himself had been educated at Deventer, and had given this school material support by a liberal endowment for the maintenance of twenty poor students.⁠[57]

The schools of the Brethren had been among the first of those north of the Alps which introduced the revived study of classical literature. It was in these schools that Rudolphus Agricola, Alexander Hegius, Rudolph von Langen and Ludwig Dringenberg studied the revivers of the classical studies on German [34]soil,—the fathers of the older German humanism.⁠[58] Hegius, one of the greatest scholars of the century, was rector of the schools at Wesel, Emmerich and Deventer. Erasmus, a pupil of Deventer, ranks him among the restorers of pure Latin scholarship. Hegius enjoys the undisputed credit of having purged and simplified the school curriculum, improved the method of teaching, corrected the old text-books or replaced them by better ones. He also made the classics the staple of instruction of youth.⁠[59] Together with Agricola, Erasmus and Reuchlin, he was foremost in propagating enthusiasm for Greek in Germany. Hegius emphasized the necessity of a knowledge of Greek for all sciences:

In Alsace flourished the school of Schlettstadt, more important even than those on the Lower Rhine. It was one of the first of the German schools in which the history of the Fatherland was zealously studied side by side with the classics. Among its most distinguished pupils were Johannes von Dalberg, Geiler von Kaisersberg and Wimpheling. Dalberg was bishop of Worms and curator of the Heidelberg University, a liberal patron of all learned men, especially of Reuchlin, the great Greek and Hebrew scholar. This noble bishop was also the leader and director of the “Rhenish [35]Literary Society,” founded in 1491, to which belonged a host of learned men,—theologians, lawyers, doctors, philosophers, mathematicians, linguists, historians and poets, from the Rhinelands and the Middle and Southwest of Germany. The object of this society, as of many similar ones existing at that time in Germany, was the encouragement and spread of science and the fine arts generally, and of classical learning in particular, as also the furthering of national historical research.⁠[61]

Another great pupil of Schlettstadt was Geiler von Kaisersberg (died 1510), the Cathedral preacher of Strasburg, great not only as theologian and pulpit orator, but also as an ardent promoter of humanistic studies, a friend of the learned Benedictine Johannes Trithemius and of Gabriel Biel of Tübingen, and the leading spirit of a circle of highly gifted men on the Upper Rhine. The third great scholar of Schlettstadt was Wimpheling, called the “Teacher of Germany.” As Hegius was the greatest German schoolmaster of his century, so Wimpheling was the most distinguished writer on matters educational, one of the most famous restorers of an enlightened system of education from a Christian point of view. In one of his writings, the Guide for German Youth, (1497), he forcefully points out the defects of the earlier system of education and lays down some golden rules for improvements, especially for mastering the ancient languages. It is the first work published on rational pedagogy and methodics in Germany, a truly national work. According to Wimpheling and other schoolmen of this time, the study of Latin and Greek should not be confined [36]to the learning of the languages, but should be the means of strengthening and disciplining thought, true gymnastics of independent judgment.⁠[62]

There are many names of great educators and scholars of this time which deserve at least to be mentioned: Pirkheimer in Nuremberg, Cochlaeus, professor of classics and director of the school of poetry in the same city, Murmellius, co-rector of the Cathedral school in Münster, Count Moritz von Spiegelberg, provost at Emmerich.

But we must leave this interesting subject, however reluctantly, and refer the reader to Janssen’s first volume. From contemporary sources this author has drawn the following conclusions: “Outside the Mark of Brandenburg, there was scarcely a single large town in Germany in which, at the end of the fifteenth century, in addition to the already existing elementary national schools, new schools of higher grade were not built or old ones improved.”⁠[63] The control of these schools was in the hands of the Church, and most of the masters were clerics. School rates were unknown. The schools were kept up by frequent legacies; for the education of the young was counted among the works of mercy, to which money was liberally given in loyal obedience to the Church’s doctrine of good works. Libraries were also founded in the same spirit.⁠[64]

All over Europe we find, therefore, a great, yea [37]enthusiastic, activity in the field of learning and education. The foremost promoters and patrons of this intellectual movement are everywhere ecclesiastics. This fact is so patent that an impartial American scholar wrote quite recently: “The patronage of learning which has always been one of the proudest boasts of the Catholic Church existed especially in the Renaissance, when a genuine love for it on the part of churchmen atoned for many other shortcomings. The higher clergy, moreover, were mostly university men whose scholarly interests had been awakened early in life, and who later were placed in a position to show their gratitude. A zeal for learning and the patronage of scholars became almost an affectation on the part of the higher clergy.... In all ranks of the Church an interest in the new learning was shown, even by those who were to leave the Roman faith, but who in their zeal for letters continued former traditions.”⁠[65]

It may be said, in general, that nowadays all scholarly and fair-minded Protestants, on the strength of incontestable historical evidence, repudiate the traditional views of the pre-Reformation period. Professor Hartfelder of Heidelberg unhesitatingly affirms that “from 1500–1520 Roman Catholic Europe presented the aspect of one large learned community.”⁠[66] Numerous similar statements can be quoted, but we must refer the reader to special works on this subject.⁠[67] In the face of such undeniable facts it is unintelligible how certain writers can describe the close of the Middle Ages as an age of intellectual stagnation and degeneracy, or how Mr. Painter can say that shortly before [38]the Reformation learning had died out among the clergy, the schools were neglected, superstition and ignorance characterized the masses.⁠[68] Is not the ignorance rather on the part of the so-called historians who make such sweeping indictments?

The greatest and most glorious achievement of the medieval Church in the intellectual sphere are the universities. These institutions have been bequeathed to us by the Middle Ages, and they are of greater and more imperishable value even than its cathedrals.⁠[69] The universities were, to a great extent, ecclesiastical institutions,⁠[70] they were, at least, endowed with privileges from the Holy See. They were meant to be the highest schools not only of secular, but also of religious learning, and stood under the jurisdiction of the Church, as well as under her special protection.⁠[71] It was through the privileges of the Church that the universities were raised from merely local into ecumenical organizations. The doctorate became an order of intellectual nobility, with as distinct and definite a place in the hierarchical system of medieval Christendom, as the priesthood and the knighthood. In fact the Sacerdotium, Imperium, and Studium are [39]the three great forces which energized those times and built up and maintained the mighty fabric of medieval Christendom. The University of Paris, the first school of the Church, with its four Nations, possessed something of the international character of the Church.⁠[72] “It may with truth be said that in the history of human things there is to be found no grander conception than that of the Church in the fifteenth century, when it resolved, in the shape of the universities, to cast the light of knowledge abroad over the Christian world.”⁠[73] These are the testimonies of Protestant historians.

As the Benedictines in the earlier ages had been the most zealous educators, so, from the twelfth century on, the friars or mendicants took the most prominent part in university education. The greatest professors in philosophy and theology were friars; to the order of St. Francis belonged Alexander of Hales, St. Bonaventure, Roger Bacon, and Duns Scotus. The last mentioned was one of the profoundest and most original thinkers that the world has ever seen, and deservedly was styled the Doctor subtilis. Blessed Albertus Magnus, and Thomas Aquinas, “the Angelic Doctor and Prince of the Schools,” were Dominicans. Albertus Magnus and Roger Bacon were far in advance of their time in the knowledge of mathematics and natural sciences. Mr. Rashdall compares Roger Bacon with his great namesake, Francis [40]Bacon, and the comparison is decidedly in favor of the monk.⁠[74]

There existed a considerable number of universities before the year 1400, chief among them were those of Paris, Bologna, Oxford and Cambridge, Salamanca, Prague, Vienna, Heidelberg, etc. From 1400 to the Reformation many new universities were founded in Western Christendom.⁠[75] Twenty-six of those founded between 1400 and 1500 are still existing,⁠[76] among them Würzburg, Leipsic, Munich, Tübingen, etc., in Germany; St. Andrew’s, Glasgow, Aberdeen in Scotland; Upsala in Sweden; Copenhagen in Denmark, etc. In Germany alone nine were founded between 1456 and 1506.⁠[77] But we need not dwell further on these universities, as any information that is sought can be easily gathered from the many books that are available on this subject.⁠[78]

The intellectual activity of the universities of the Southern European countries was nowise inferior to that of Central and Northern Europe. In Portugal there was the University of Coimbra; in Spain, there were at least twelve universities before 1500,⁠[79] the [41]chief among them at Salamanca. Here flourished, shortly before the outbreak of the Reformation, the famous classical scholar, Peter Martyr, Prior of the Church of Granada. He and other scholars labored with such success for the higher education of the nobility, that no Spaniard was considered noble who showed any indifference to learning. Erasmus also declares that “the Spaniards had attained such eminence in literature, that they not only excited the admiration of the most polished nations of Europe, but served likewise as models for them.”⁠[80] Many belonging to the first houses of the nobility—once so high and proud—now made no hesitation to occupy chairs in the universities. Among others Don Gutierre de Toledo, son of the Duke of Alva and cousin of the King, lectured at Salamanca. Noble dames likewise vied with illustrious grandees for the prize of literary pre-eminence; while many even held chairs in the universities, and gave public lectures on eloquence and classical learning. Some of the names of these literary ladies have been preserved: the Marchioness of Monteagudo, Doña Maria Pacheco, and Queen Isabella’s instructor in Latin, Doña Beatriz de Galindo, and others.⁠[81] With such a zeal for knowledge the [42]old schools began to be filled, and the newly endowed Salamanca excelled them all. It was called the “Spanish Athens”, and was said at one time to have seven thousand students. It was there that Peter Martyr gave lessons on Juvenal (1488), before such an immense audience that the entrance to the hall was completely blocked up and the lecturer had to be carried in on the shoulders of the students.⁠[82] It should be mentioned to the credit of Salamanca that her Doctors encouraged the designs of Columbus, and that the Copernican system found early acceptance in its lecture rooms.⁠[83]

In the beginning of the sixteenth century other schools for higher education were established at Toledo, Seville, Granada, Ognate, Ossuna, and Valencia. But all these schools were far excelled by the new university of Alcala, founded by Ximenez in 1500. It was so magnificent an establishment that the Spaniards called it the “eighth wonder of the world.” The college of San Ildefonso was the head of the new university. Moreover, Ximenez founded several other institutions, adapted to all kinds of wants. Most renowned was the “College of Three Languages” for the study of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. For poor young students in the classics, Ximenez endowed two boarding schools, where forty-two scholars were supported three years free of expense. The students attended the lectures given by the six professors of languages, [43]who were attached to the university; at their houses, however, special exercises were given and disputations held for fourteen days. Strict examinations were required before any one could be admitted to a higher class, or to a particular course of lectures on any science. All the regulations were followed by such great results that, according to Erasmus, Alcala was especially distinguished by its able philologists.⁠[84]—The most splendid production of the philological and biblical activity of this university is the celebrated Complutensian Polyglot of the Bible. In 1526 Ignatius of Loyola, the future founder of the Society of Jesus, attended the University of Alcala; in 1527 we find him in Salamanca.

In connection with Alcala we must mention the greatest school of the Netherlands, the University of Louvain. Especially distinguished was its Collegium Trilingue, founded in 1516 by Busleiden, the friend of Erasmus and Thomas More. Busleiden had visited Alcala and wished to have in Louvain a college like that of the “Three Languages” at Alcala for the study of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. The famous universities of Alcala, Salamanca, Paris, and Louvain furnish the connecting link between the educational system of the Jesuits and that previous to the foundation of the Society. But the great University of Paris was really the Alma Mater of St. Ignatius of Loyola. There also he won his first companions, chief among them Peter Faber, and St. Francis Xavier. In 1529 and 1530 Ignatius visited the Netherlands. During its infancy several distinguished members of the Order were scholars from that country, as Peter Canisius, Francis [44]Coster, Peter Busaeus, John Theodore Macherentius, and others. The traditions of the University of Paris and of the humanistic schools of the Netherlands undoubtedly exerted a considerable influence on the Jesuit system of education. Before narrating the foundation of the Society and the development of its educational system, it is necessary to speak of two great movements, the Renaissance and the Reformation.

§ 2. Character of Medieval Education. The Renaissance.

Higher education in the Middle Ages followed the course known as the study of the “Seven Liberal Arts,” divided into the Trivium: Grammar, Rhetoric, and Logic; and the Quadrivium: Arithmetic, Music, Geometry, and Astronomy.⁠[85] If we read that “grammar” was studied for several years and that many confined their studies to this part of the course, we ought well to understand the meaning of this term. By grammar was not meant, as now, the mere study of the rules of a language, its etymology and syntax, but rather a scholarly acquaintance with the literature of that language, together with the power of writing and speaking it.⁠[86] Rabanus Maurus, the greatest pupil of Alcuin and later on Archbishop of Mentz, defined grammar as “the science of interpreting poets and historians, as well as the science of the rules of speaking and writing.” Latin was the principal subject of instruction, the favorite authors were Virgil and Ovid. Hugo of Trimberg, the master of a school at Bamberg, [45]about 1250, enumerates the following authors whom he read with his pupils: Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Juvenal, Persius, Statius, Homerus Latinus, Boethius, Claudian, Sedulius, Prudentius, and others.⁠[87] Of prose authors are mentioned: Cicero, Seneca, Sallust, and others. The study of Greek is met with only very exceptionally before the Renaissance. Mathematics were taught, but it is difficult to say to what extent.

In the eleventh and twelfth centuries there was a revival of literary studies, which, however, was soon replaced by another movement, scholasticism. Through the Arabs and the Jews, Western Europe became acquainted with the entire Logic of Aristotle—hitherto only his Organon was known, and that in the Latin translation of Boethius,—with his Dialectics, Physics, Metaphysics, and Ethics.⁠[88] Scientific inquiry in the universities began to move in another direction than heretofore. The methods of Aristotle were introduced into the schools; henceforth there was a more rigorous form of reasoning, a dialectic tendency, and a closer adherence to the syllogism; disputations were very common. A renewed study of the Fathers of the Church, and a more correct understanding of Aristotle inaugurated the most brilliant period of scholasticism (1230–1330).⁠[89]

[46]

It cannot and need not be denied that the education imparted by the medieval scholastics was in many regards defective. It was at once too dogmatic and disputatious.⁠[90] Literary studies were comparatively neglected; frequently too much importance was attached to purely dialectical subtleties. This education was one-sided, and a few great men of the age, as Roger Bacon, the great medieval scientist, and John of Salisbury, complained that scholasticism was too narrow.⁠[91] The defects of scholasticism became especially manifest in the course of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when much time and energy was wasted in discussing useless refinements of thought.

Another serious defect of medieval education was the lack of philological and historical criticism. This uncritical spirit has been well pointed out in the International Catholic Scientific Congress at Munich, 1900, by the distinguished Jesuit historian, Father Grisar. Speaking of the unwarranted traditions and pious legends that grew up during the Middle Ages, he says: “The age was really in infancy, so far as regular historical scientific instinct was concerned. As in other branches of knowledge, people lived on the good or bad tradition of former days, just as they had received it.... The scientific work of the whole epoch was devoted to those branches of knowledge that are most sublime in their matter and stand in closest relation to religion and Church. The age produced great and exceedingly acute theologians, philosophers and canonists, but in these very men the general absence of the historical sense, and of the criticism of facts, is [47]remarkable. It never occurs to them to question the heritage of traditions or the wonderful narratives that spring up. Rather in general they endeavor to find in their systems a place for the most incongruous statements without any question as to their foundation in fact.”⁠[92] This lack of criticism explains the general acceptance of such forgeries as the “Decretals of Pseudo-Isidorus”, of the “Donation of Constantine”, and of the works of “Pseudo-Dionysius Areopagita”. The knowledge of antiquity was exceedingly vague and defective. Even such writers as Vincent of Beauvais, who wrote a cyclopedia of all branches of learning then known (the Speculum Majus), makes the most curious blunders. Thus Caesar’s Commentaries he ascribes to Julius Celsus; Marcus Tullius Cicero he confounds with his brother Quintus, in saying that the great orator was a lieutenant of Caesar. Spurious works abound in his lists of ancient authors, whilst important works, as Cicero’s Epistles, De Oratore, Brutus, etc., were unknown to him.⁠[93]

Undoubtedly a reaction was inevitable and, at the same time, needed. It came in the Renaissance, or the Revival of Learning. However, this movement soon went to another extreme, to an enthusiasm for the ancient authors which was beyond the limits of reason. Thus humanism became not less one-sided than Scholasticism had been. We shall see further on that the educational system of the Society is a combination of humanism and scholasticism. A thorough education [48]in the classics is followed by a solid course of philosophy, mathematics, and natural sciences. Thus the shortcomings of both systems are effectively obviated.

Both terms: “renaissance” and “humanism”, are apt to be misunderstood. If “humanism” means the true perception of man’s nature and destiny, or truly humane feelings towards fellow-man and active humanitarian interest in his welfare, then the Middle Ages knew and practised humanism. Thus understood it is in no way different from the sublime principles laid down by the most humane of all teachers, the God-man Jesus Christ. If, however, it signifies a view of life and mankind which recognizes nothing but the purely natural man, which finds in the purely human its highest ideals and rejects the relation to the vision of a future beyond this life, then it was foreign to the medieval mind, as it is foreign to Christianity. For the religious, supernatural element was central in medieval life.⁠[94] If “Revival of Learning” is meant to imply that the ancient classics were altogether unknown during the Middle Ages, it is a wrong conception. But should the word designate a more extensive study, and, above all, a more enthusiastic interest in classical learning which developed even into excessive admiration for antiquity, it is correctly applied to the period closing the Middle Ages.

At the time when scholasticism flourished most, Dante in his grand poem, which has been styled a “Poetical Summa Theologiae”, represents the harmonious combination of scholastic and classic learning.⁠[95] [49]In this immortal work classical antiquity and Christianity go hand in hand. Virgil is no less his teacher than is Thomas Aquinas, and his poetry is the beautiful expression of the union between faith and reason.⁠[96] The whole humanistic movement which began soon after Dante, was not so much a change of the subject of learning as a change in the mental attitude towards these subjects.⁠[97] This attitude assumed different shapes in various schools of humanists. Some of them, particularly the earlier humanists in Germany, combined enthusiasm for the classics with faithful allegiance to the Church; others assumed an attitude of indifference or scepticism towards Christianity; others again showed open hostility, not only against scholasticism, but against Christian dogma and morality. The one party, the more conservative humanists, admired the Greek and Roman writers, but looked upon the Sacred Scriptures as higher than all the wisdom of the ancients. Listen to Petrarch! “Let no subtlety of argument, no grace of speech, no renown ensnare us; they [the ancients] were but men, learned so far as mere human erudition can go, but [50]deserving of pity, inasmuch as they lacked the highest and ineffable gift.—Let us study philosophy so as to love wisdom. The real wisdom of God is Christ.—We must first be Christians. We must read philosophical, poetical, and historical works in such a manner that the Gospel of Christ shall ever find an echo in our hearts. Through it alone can we become wise and happy; without it, the more we have learned, the more ignorant and unhappy we shall be. On the Gospel alone, as upon the one immovable foundation, can human diligence build all true learning.”⁠[98]

Though Petrarch himself did not escape the influence of the dangerous elements contained in the writings of antiquity, still he never went so far as did his friend Boccaccio, whose writings breathe an atmosphere of pagan corruption. And yet not even this writer was an unbeliever, or an enemy to the Church.

As knowledge is good in itself and as its abuse never justifies its suppression, the Church considered the study of classical literature as a legitimate movement, productive of great fruit for spiritual and secular science. Thus we find so many ardent patrons of the new learning among the Popes and other ecclesiastical dignitaries. But there is a great danger in the one-sided enthusiasm for heathen literature. Everything depends on the manner in which the ancient authors are read and employed in education. They must be read and interpreted in the spirit of the Christian religion. This was not done by the radical humanists. They not only praised and admired the elegant style, the brilliant eloquence and poetry of the ancients, but wanted to effect a radical return to pagan thought and [51]manners. They imitated, or even outdid, some of the most licentious writers of antiquity in vile and obscene productions. They endeavored to resuscitate ancient life, and not in its best forms. The horrible crimes which are the worst blot on the history of antiquity, of Greece in particular, were made the subject of elegant verses. And the vices which were the curse of Greece and one of the causes of its downfall, began to rage like a dreadful plague in the cities of Italy, especially among the higher class of society.⁠[99]

One has only to recall the names of such humanists as Valla, Poggio, Becadelli and others, to understand how justly this class of writers is censured. Their writings have been called “an abyss of iniquity wreathed with the most beautiful flowers of poetry.” It was against this flood of abomination that the zealous, but unfortunately impetuous and stubborn Savonarola directed his thundering eloquence, with only a temporary result. It can easily be imagined what influence this new paganism exerted on youth. What kind of moral safeguard could be expected from teachers of the stamp of Valla? No attempt was made to keep from the hands of the young books which in all ages have been proscribed as disastrous to morality. In the light of such facts the anxiety which Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus, felt about dangers arising from the indiscriminate reading of the classics, is fully justified.⁠[100] Not a few of the humanists had lost all faith. Other defects of the majority of the humanists, especially their exorbitant [52]vanity and self conceit, have been deservedly chastised by various authors.⁠[101]

It became especially the fashion among humanists to sneer at the “metaphysical juggleries” and the “barbarous Latin” of the scholastics. It is true, the all absorbing interest in philosophical and theological questions had caused a retrogression in the study of the classical authors. But this loss was counteracted by a considerable gain. At any rate, the sweeping condemnations of the humanists were not justified. Modern scholars begin to see the service rendered to science by scholasticism, and not a few defend the schoolmen against the “arrogant accusations of the humanists” as Professor Paulsen calls them. “We might just as well accept the judgments of socialists on our present conditions as reliable criticisms. It is the task of the historians to judge the past from what it was in and for itself, a task which in most cases means to defend it against that which immediately succeeded. For it is the lot of all historical institutions to be thrown aside with hatred and contempt by that which follows. Will not a time come when the philological and historical, physical and other inquiries of the present appear as dreary and barren, as to us scholastic and speculative philosophy appear?”⁠[102]

Not only Leibnitz, but modern philosophers as Hegel, Edward von Hartmann, and the rationalistic Professor Harnack, have respected the schoolmen as the leaders in a great movement and defended them against their calumniators. Hartmann admits that [53]“scholasticism was an intellectual system wonderfully coherent and consistent in itself, of which only those judge slightingly who have not yet overcome their hostility to it and have not yet arrived at the objective view of history.”⁠[103]

From Italy the literary renaissance spread to Spain, France, England and Germany. The flourishing condition of the schools in England and Germany, described on previous pages, was chiefly due to this movement. The radical school of humanism, hostile to Christianity, did not enter England. The most distinguished English humanists were thorough and practical churchmen,⁠[104] or laymen, most loyal to the Church. Two of them, Bishop Fisher and Thomas More, have been raised by the Church to the honor of the altar. In Germany, matters developed very differently. The humanistic movement began to be felt in the German universities after 1450. Its gradual entrance into the various seats of learning is well traced by Professor Paulsen.⁠[105] However, it is the inner development of humanism in Germany which is of greater importance.⁠[106]

The earlier humanists, as Hegius and his friends, had contemplated classical antiquity from the point of [54]view of absolute faith in Christianity. Wimpheling expressed their sentiments in these words: “It is not the study of the heathen writers in itself which is dangerous to Christian culture, but the false apprehension and handling of them, as is often done in Italy, where, by means of the classics, pagan ways of thought and life are spread prejudicial to Christian morality and the patriotic spirit.”⁠[107]

Fundamentally different from this conservative school were the younger or radical humanists. Wanton attacks upon the Holy See, the religious orders, Catholic doctrines and practices, contempt for the whole learning of the Middle Ages and for their own mother tongue, or even a worse than pagan immorality in their writings characterize the great majority of this school of “Poets” in Germany as in Italy. The chief representative of humanism in Germany was Erasmus of Rotterdam, who exercised an enormous influence on his times. The extent and variety of his knowledge in almost every branch of contemporary learning, his untiring activity in all directions, his consummate mastery and artistic treatment of the Latin tongue, and the variety and richness of his style were equalled by few. He brought forth fresh editions of the Bible, of the Greek classics and Fathers, and original treatises in every branch of literature. But he was altogether wanting in intellectual depth. He traveled through England, Italy, and France as a mere book-worm without eye or understanding for national life and character. His freedom in the use [55]of calumny, his talent for fulsome flattery to obtain money and presents, matched only by his malignant spite against adversaries, destroyed all proportions between his literary achievements and his character.⁠[108] The leaders among the younger humanists who, when not fighting the theologians, devoted their energies to the composition of vapid verses and lewd poems, were Conrad Celtes, Eobanus Hessus, Crotus Rubianus, Conrad Rufus, Mutian, the dissolute Ulric of Hutten, the knight-errant of humanism, and a host of minor scribblers. In their school work they read the most profligate pagan poetry with their young pupils, and introduced a reign of unrestrained license at Erfurt and other universities and schools.

In Germany, as well as in Italy, this reaction in the renaissance took a special coloring from the circumstances of the melancholy period in which it occurred. From the beginning of the fourteenth century deplorable effects had been manifesting themselves in the Church. The authority of the Pope had been weakened, a great part of the clergy was steeped in worldliness; scholastic philosophy and theology had declined and terrible disorders were rife in political and civil life. The dangerous elements, which no doubt ancient literature contained, were presented to a generation intellectually and physically overwrought and in many ways unhealthy. It is no wonder, therefore, that some of the adherents of the new tendency [56]turned aside into perilous paths.⁠[109] In particular the nepotism, worldly life, unscrupulous state policy, and scandalous appointments to high places, for which some of the Popes were responsible, and the scandals connected with the name of Alexander VI., furnished welcome weapons to diets, to princes and agitators, who, under the guise of “reform in head and members,” pursued their own selfish ends and aimed at nothing less than the secularization of ecclesiastical property and the usurpation of ecclesiastical jurisdiction.⁠[110]

Besides these abuses, affecting the Church at large, there were others threatening Germany in particular. It is true there existed a great love of learning among all classes, and piety and active charity were found among a great number of clergy and laity. As we have seen, in the lower elementary and the advanced middle schools a sound basis of popular education was [57]established; the universities attained a height of distinction never dreamt of in former times. And art developed more rapidly than learning. But there were many dangerous symptoms in religious, social and political life.⁠[111] In all departments perplexity and confusion were visible. A mass of inflammable material was ready everywhere, and it needed but a spark to set the whole mass ablaze. This spark came from Wittenberg.

§ 3. Education under the Influence of the Reformation.

Luther was undoubtedly a man endowed with the highest natural gifts. Still he was not what Protestant tradition has made him.⁠[112] “On the part of the Protestants,” writes one of Germany’s historians, the Protestant K. A. Menzel, “it is an accepted maxim to represent to oneself the Reformers as lords and half saints. This prejudice is indeed broken in circles that are conversant with history, but among the large mass of the evangelical population it is still maintained, not, however, to the preservation of truth. It passes current as ‘cultured’, and is paraded as a mark of ‘scientific investigation’ to undermine with criticism and negation even the fundamental doctrines of Christianity. But woe to him who with the torch of science invades the vestibule of the temple in which prejudice [58]and tradition have erected the throne of the ‘heroes of the Reformation’ and their works. The historical investigator who possesses such a foolhardiness is sure to be decried as a Crypto-Catholic.”⁠[113] Not a few Protestant historians frankly confess that the whole structure of Reformation history must undergo a change from its very foundation. One of them says: “Too great is the rubbish and garbage which, intentionally or unintentionally, the prevailing theological standpoint concerning the Reformation period has inaugurated.”⁠[114] From original documents a picture of the Reformers, very different from the traditional one, has been presented by the “fear-inspiring book of Döllinger” and by “Janssen’s crushing examination of the Luther myth which produced a tremendous uproar in Germany.”⁠[115] A great deal of “rubbish and garbage” has also hidden the truth in regard to the influence of Luther and the Reformation on education.

It is a fact of no little significance that Luther’s first confederates were the radical humanists. In their hatred against scholastic learning and ecclesiastical authority they welcomed Luther’s audacious attacks on the Church. Luther himself had tried at an early date to ingratiate himself with the humanistic confederacy.⁠[116] After the example of Luther the younger humanists, these inveterate enemies of all religion, now accustomed themselves to a Biblical style of language; [59]they even became of a sudden scholars of divinity and delivered lectures on theological subjects. Luther did not shrink from a formal alliance with the most violent of these enemies of the existing order, the gifted but utterly corrupt Ulrich von Hutten, who at that time together with Franz von Sickingen planned a revolution against the Emperor.⁠[117]

This was indeed a remarkable alliance. Prof. Paulsen’s comment on it is worth quoting: “The humanists offered their assistance to the monk whose controversies they had shortly before despised as a monkish quarrel. ‘Evangelical liberty’ became their war-cry instead of ‘learning and humanity’. It is only through this alliance that Luther’s cause, which had begun as a ‘monkish quarrel’, became that tremendous revolutionary movement which unhinged the gates of the Church. A reminder of humanism is that naturalism contained in the pure gospel, that addition which appears so strange in Luther’s writings, when now and then he represents the works of the flesh as divine commandments and continence as well nigh a rebellion against God’s word and will: almost as if the emancipation of the flesh was to be realized through the gospel of Christ. Of course this must not be understood as though these elements had not existed in Luther’s nature, in his views and sentiments, but it was only under the influence of humanism that they developed. Under different circumstances they might have remained latent.”⁠[118] Luther and Loyola have often been contrasted, the one as the leader of the Protestant Revolution, the other as prominent in the counter-reformation. [60]Luther tried to reform by a revolution, by a complete break with the past⁠[119]; Loyola by a real reformation. Luther changed the doctrine, Loyola saw, as his first companion, Peter Faber, has it, that “not the head, but the heart, not the doctrine, but the life needed a change.” Luther allied himself with the radical humanists, Loyola imitated the earlier conservative humanists.

That a Christian reformer followed the earlier humanists, who were thoroughly imbued with the spirit of Christianity, as Vittorino da Feltre, Hegius, Agricola, Wimpheling, is natural. But, as Paulsen remarks, “it is a strange phenomenon that a man (Luther) who seemed to be made to fight with Savonarola against the worldliness of the Church introduced by humanism, had to unite himself with Hutten for the extirpation of monasticism. True, it is stranger still that Hutten could make common cause with Luther against the Papacy whose representative was a Medici, against a Church which raised such patrons of learning as Cardinal Albrecht of Mentz to the highest dignities. Well might one have warned Hutten not to cut the branch on which he was sitting.”⁠[120]

The humanists had, indeed, cut the branch.—Humanism was ruined by its alliance with the Reformation, and as early as 1524 the eyes of the humanists were opened. The universities and schools were almost annihilated in the storms of religious strife. Professor Paulsen shows this in detail in regard to the [61]various German universities,⁠[121] as Wittenberg, Erfurt, Leipsic, Frankfurt, Rostock, Greifswald, Cologne, Vienna, Heidelberg, etc. Ingolstadt, of all German universities, was least affected by the Reformation. Under the leadership of Dr. Eck the Lutheran invasion was energetically combated. The number of students declined somewhat, but not considerably, so that this university shows the most favorable conditions of all universities.⁠[122] The same decline was visible in the lower schools. Döllinger has collected a long list of complaints that could be easily enlarged, about the ruin of the schools consequent upon the religious revolution.⁠[123]

The humanist Eobanus Hessus writes from Erfurt in the year 1523: “Under the cloak of the Gospel the escaped monks here are suppressing all liberal studies. Our university is quite deserted; we are utterly despised.” In the same year the Dean of the Erfurt philosophical faculty complains: “Nobody would have believed it, if it had been predicted that in a short time our university would have fallen so low that scarcely a shadow of its former lustre would remain.” In the same strain lament Melanchthon from Wittenberg, and others from all seats of learning throughout Germany.

Erasmus, an eye-witness of the first scenes in the great drama of the Reformation, the intimate friend of Melanchthon and other Reformers, writes in 1528: “Wherever Lutheranism reigns, there literature perishes. [62]I dislike these gospellers on many accounts, but chiefly, because through their agency literature everywhere languishes, disappears, lies drooping and perishes: and yet, without learning, what is a man’s life? They love good cheer and a wife; for other things they care not a straw.”⁠[124] In a letter to Melanchthon he states that at Strasburg the Protestant party had publicly taught, in 1524, that it was not right to cultivate any science, and that no language should be studied except the Hebrew. In fact, who was to be blamed for this rapid decay of schools but the Reformers themselves? Carlstadt was not only a fanatic in his hatred of Catholic doctrines and customs, but also spoke with contempt of all human learning. He advised the students to return to their homes and resume the spade or follow the plough, and cultivate the earth, because man was to eat bread in the sweat of his brow. George Mohr, master of the boys’ school at Wittenberg, carried away by a similar madness, called from his window to the burghers outside to come and remove their children. Where, indeed, was the use of continuing their studies, since a mechanic was just as well, nay, perhaps better qualified than all the divines in the world, to preach the Gospel.⁠[125]

The Anabaptists in Münster decided that there was only one book necessary to salvation, the Bible, all others should be burned as useless or dangerous. [63]This decision was carried out, and whole libraries with numerous precious manuscripts of Latin and Greek authors perished in the flames. Popes, bishops, and councils during the Middle Ages, had enforced the obligation of establishing schools throughout Christendom. The vandalism of some Reformers destroyed innumerable monasteries and with them schools without number. The funds for the support of these schools had been accumulated by the piety, zeal and liberality of previous ages.

No one is more responsible for this sad change than Luther himself. If, with the aid of the Holy Ghost, Scripture could be interpreted by “a miller’s maid and a boy of nine years better than by all the popes and cardinals,”—these are Luther’s words,—of what value could human learning be in religion? Nay more, according to Luther’s early teaching, higher learning was not only useless, but positively dangerous. He spoke with a fierce hatred against higher schools and human learning. Professor Paulsen admits that the vehemence of tone in which Luther spoke of the universities as the real bulwarks of the devil on earth, has perhaps never been rivalled before or after by any attack on these institutions.⁠[126] A few specimens of these invectives may suffice.

According to Luther, everything instituted by the papacy was only intended to augment sin and error, so also were the universities. It is the devil himself who has introduced study; there reigns the damned, haughty and wicked Aristotle, from whose works Christian youth is instructed.⁠[127] And yet “a man who [64]boasts the title of philosopher cannot be called a Christian.” “The Moloch to which the Jews offered up their children, are the higher schools (hohen Schulen = universities), in which the best part of youth is sacrificed as a burnt offering. There they are instructed in false heathen art and godless human knowledge: this is the fire of Moloch which no one can weep over enough, through which the most pious and most clever boys are miserably ruined.”⁠[128] “The higher schools all deserve to be ground to dust; nothing more hellish, nothing more devilish has appeared on earth, nor will ever appear. These schools have been invented by no one else than the devil.”⁠[129] Luther hated the universities because they exalted reason, “the light of nature”, too much. To Luther reason is only “the devil’s bride, a beautiful prostitute of the devil.”⁠[130] “Human reason is sheer darkness.” The faithful strangle reason and say: “Hearest thou, a mad blind fool thou art, understandest not a bit of the things that are God’s. Thus the believers throttle this beast.”⁠[131]

It is surprising to see that Melanchthon fell in with the tone of Luther.⁠[132] He denounced universities, philosophy, and ethics, almost as violently as his master, but only for a time; he soon abated the violence of his sentiments, whereas Luther to the end [65]of his life preserved his bitterness against natural reason. Innumerable other preachers began to vie with each other in pouring forth virulent abuse against all enlightened knowledge and secular learning.

Can we then wonder that the parents, prejudiced by such inflammatory declamations, became averse not only to higher learning, as it had existed before the religious disturbances, but to schools in general? No wonder that the lower schools also began to be neglected, so that contemporary writers say: “About the year 1525 schools began to decline, and no one wanted to send his children to school, as people had heard so much from Luther’s writings of how the priests and the learned had so pitiably seduced mankind.” The official report of the inspectors of the district of Wittenberg, the centre and starting point of Luther’s “reform”, informs us in the year 1533: “The city schools which, in addition to the instruction they imparted, had given the children a material maintenance, are alarmingly decreasing.”⁠[133]

Luther himself was appalled at this desolation, for he knew full well the importance of the school. With bitter invective and reproach he lashes the indifference of the people and the avarice of the princes who, after having squandered the property of the Church and the funds of the schools, refused to do anything for establishing new schools or even for maintaining those in existence. “Formerly”, he says, “when we were the slaves of Satan, and profaned the blood of Christ, [66]all purses were open; then nothing was spared to put children in the cloister or to send them to school. But now when we must establish good schools (rechte Schulen)—establish, did I say, no, but only preserve the buildings in good condition—the purses are closed with iron chains. The children are neglected, no one teaches them to serve God, while they are joyfully immolated to Mammon.” But herein Luther was inconsistent. Had he not taught people again and again that good works were useless? Why should they make any sacrifice of money for a pious work like that of education? And was it a good and pious work at all? This might have been asked by those who remembered Luther’s reckless invectives against higher schools.

Luther was absolutely powerless to remedy the evil which grew worse daily. Therefore he appealed earnestly to the Protestant princes and magistrates to found and support schools. He told them that it was their right, nay, their duty to oblige their subjects to send their children to school. As is evident, Luther had been forced to this step because his voice, always “omnipotent when it preached destruction and spoliation, now fell powerless when it was at length raised to enforce the necessity of liberal contribution for the rearing of institutions to replace those which had been wantonly destroyed.”⁠[134] Compulsory education, accordingly, is a child of the Reformation; so is also the state-monopoly which gradually developed in European countries.⁠[135]

[67]

The princes and magistrates to whom Luther appealed for establishing new schools, were slow in following these admonitions, whereas they had been most docile when told to confiscate the rich abbeys and monasteries which had maintained many educational institutions. Luther himself complained that so little heed was paid to his words. In 1528 a new “Order” for the cities of Saxony was prepared by Melanchthon. In 1559 appeared the “Church and School Order of Württemberg.”⁠[136] Very different from the attitude of Luther was that of Melanchthon towards higher studies. Luther saw in humanistic studies only a weapon for theological purposes; but Melanchthon was himself a humanist and believed that study of the ancient languages and literature offered immediate educational benefit to the student.⁠[137] Melanchthon has been called Praeceptor Germaniae, and this he was for the Protestant part of that country. His system was an adaptation of the humanistic principles of Erasmus, and especially of Rudolph Agricola,⁠[138] who was prominent among the earlier conservative humanists.

It is evident that Luther’s merits in regard to education have been exaggerated. The words of the Protestant Hallam deserve to be more universally [68]known: “Whatever may be the ideas of our minds as to the truth of Luther’s doctrines, we should be careful ... not to be misled by the superficial and ungrounded representations which we sometimes find in modern writers. Such is this that Luther, struck by the absurdity of the prevailing superstitions, was desirous of introducing a more rational system of religion ..., or, what others have been pleased to suggest, that his zeal for learning and ancient philosophy led him to attack the ignorance of the monks and the crafty policy of the Church, which withstood all liberal studies. These notions are merely fallacious refinements, as every man of plain understanding who is acquainted with the writings of the early reformers, or has considered their history, must acknowledge. The doctrines of Luther, taken altogether, are not more rational than those of the Church of Rome; nor did he even pretend that they were so ... nor, again, is there any foundation for imagining that Luther was concerned for the interests of literature. None had he himself, save theological; nor are there, as I apprehend, many allusions to profane studies, or any proof of his regard to them, in all his works. On the contrary, it is probable that both the principles of this great founder of the Reformation, and the natural tendency of so intense an application to theological controversy, checked for a time the progress of philological and philosophical literature on this side of the Alps.”⁠[139] As regards the much vaunted intellectual [69]and religious liberty of the Reformers, it is well known that they very soon exercised an unbearable tyranny. Hallam was honest enough to admit this, however reluctantly.⁠[140]

On the eve of the Reformation, England possessed a great number of secondary schools. Both these and the universities suffered greatly from the Reformation and the events connected with it. When by the order of Henry VIII. the monasteries were suppressed, numberless precious manuscripts and other contents of monastic libraries disappeared, and are now lost to the world beyond recovery. Grocers and soap-sellers bought them for their business purposes.⁠[141] Learning, both secular and religious, rapidly declined, and deterioration was felt in all grades of education. Most of the schools at this time were closed, without provision for a substitute. Moreover, the monasteries and convents had supported scholars at the universities, or provided for young clerics until their ordination, when they supplied them with a title. This change was felt immediately. From 1506 to 1535 the average number of yearly degrees granted at Oxford had been 127. In 1535 the number was 108. In that year the operations against the monasteries were commenced. In the following year the number of graduates fell to only 44; the average number till 1548 was less than 57, from 1548 till 1553 not more than 33, but it rose again under Queen Mary to 70.⁠[142] The University of Cambridge suffered not less than Oxford.

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The scholars of Cambridge, in 1545, petitioned King Henry for privileges, as they feared the destruction of the monasteries would altogether annihilate learning.⁠[143] For a time these great homes of learning were threatened with nothing less than ruin. Thus it is undeniable that the dissolution of monasteries, in 1536 and the next two years, gave a great temporary check to the general state of letters in England.

Hallam attempts to palliate this charge, but in vain. Let us contemplate the picture which Latimer, the fanatic opponent of Catholicism, drew in 1550 of the state of education in England. His words are almost identical with those of Luther.⁠[144] “In those days (before the suppression of monasteries), what did they when they helped the scholars? Marry! They maintained and gave them livings that were very Papists and professed the Pope’s doctrine; and now that the knowledge of God’s word is brought to light, and many earnestly study and labour to set it forth, now almost no man helpeth to maintain them.”... “Truly it is a pitiable thing to see schools so neglected; every true Christian ought to lament the same; to consider what has been plucked from abbeys, colleges and chantries, it is a marvel no more to be bestowed upon this holy office of salvation. Schools are not maintained, scholars have no exhibitions.... I think there be at this day twenty thousand students less than within these twenty years and fewer preachers.” Anthony Wood, in his History and Antiquities of the University of Oxford, writes: “Most of the halls and [71]hostels in Oxford were left empty. Arts declined and ignorance began to take place again.”⁠[145]

This sketch of the status of education previous to the foundation of the Society of Jesus warrants us to draw the following conclusions. First, a reform was urgently needed, not only in the religious and moral sphere but also in education. There was a great literary activity all over Christendom. In the countries most affected by the Reformation, this activity was checked for a time, in Germany almost annihilated. In those countries which were less affected by the religious revolution, the educational work was not formed into a well balanced system of instruction and discipline. Further, the teaching of the classics was in many cases carried on in a pagan spirit. The Catholic reform centres around the Council of Trent. The members of a Commission preparatory to this Council, mostly refined humanists and university scholars, pointed out as one of the great abuses in the Church, that “in the public schools, especially of Italy, many teach impiety.” This was stated in 1538, two years before the approbation of the Society of Jesus. In this Society “the Church of Rome, deeply shaken by open schism and lurking disaffection, was to find an unexpected strength. The Jesuits were speedily to acquire a vast influence by the control of education.”⁠[146] In fact, the Jesuits were to give to Catholic countries a uniform system of education, which was so sadly needed at the time. They were to purify and elevate the teaching of the classics, so as [72]to make it a useful means of Christian education as well as of mental training.

Secondly: The foregoing sketch proves that it is false to say: the Jesuits availed themselves, in the interest of the Catholic Church, of the zeal for learning which the Protestants had awakened.⁠[147] It can be proved over and above that a great zeal for learning had existed before the Reformation,⁠[148] and that this zeal was well-nigh extinguished by this movement. Melanchthon, Sturm and other reformers who worked for the establishment of schools, had received their literary education, their zeal for learning, and the greater part of their educational principles from the schools flourishing before the outbreak of the religious revolution. Their efforts were directed towards re-establishing what the religious disturbances had destroyed. Of course, we are far from denying that the Reformers introduced many improvements into the Protestant schools; but they and the Jesuits drew from the same sources.

The preceding sketch of the condition of education previous to the foundation of the Society of Jesus may seem disproportionately long. However, it was necessary to dwell on this point at some length, in order to expose one of the fundamental errors concerning the origin of the educational system of the Jesuits. It would not have sufficed to make a few general assertions—as has been done by some non-Catholic writers on the history of education—but it was necessary to quote details, in order to refute this erroneous view.

It is not our task to give a detailed history of Ignatius of Loyola, the Spanish nobleman who was wounded on the ramparts of Pampeluna, in 1521, nor of his subsequent conversion and life. This story has often been told and may be read in the numerous biographies of the Saint.⁠[149] Nor need we enumerate all the different and contradictory estimates of his character, as given by various writers. Macaulay calls him a “visionary” and an “enthusiast, naturally passionate and imaginative,” possessed of a “morbid intensity and energy, a soldier and knight errant,” who became “the soldier and knight errant of the spouse of Christ.”⁠[150] Canon Littledale, in spite of his hostility against the Society, cannot help admitting that Loyola possessed “powerful gifts of intellect and an unusual practical foresight.”⁠[151]

To see with Macaulay in Ignatius a “visionary,” is an utter misconception of his character. Nor is it [74]correct to style him a “religious enthusiast.” This appellation could, at the most, be applied to him only for the first few years after his conversion. During that period, in a few instances, as in the famous meeting with the Saracen, Ignatius displays indeed a conduct singularly contrasting with his conduct in after-life and with those wonderfully wise rules which he laid down on the discernment of the good spirit from the evil one. In his Autobiography the Saint insists particularly on the mistakes into which he had fallen on the road to mature judgment in spiritual matters.⁠[152] During these first few years following his conversion, Ignatius gave manifestation of the chivalrous spirit which he had imbibed from his early military training, when, for instance, in the Monastery of the Montserrat he hung up his sword beside our Lady’s image, in token that henceforth his life was to be one of spiritual warfare and spiritual knighthood.

The Society, however, was not founded in this period of the Saint’s life, but when the youthful fervor was completely mastered by the calmest discretion. At the time when he drew up the Constitutions of the Society, all his actions and sentiments were so entirely under his control that, although by nature of an ardent temper, he was commonly thought cold and phlegmatic. In framing the Constitutions he proceeded with the utmost care and circumspection. On points which might appear unimportant, he deliberated for days, nay for weeks and months. It was a common [75]practice of his to write down the reasons for and against in parallel columns, then to weigh their force and importance. After this he consulted the Fathers who lived with him in Rome, in order to take their advice as to changes or additions which they thought necessary or useful. Moreover, he submitted the results of his painstaking labors to the judgment of those Fathers who lived in various parts of Europe. Surely in this cautiousness we see anything but the traits of a visionary or enthusiast.

As early as 1523 Ignatius had conceived the idea of his future life-work, although only in general outlines. We find this idea embodied in his Spiritual Exercises, particularly in the contemplation on the “Kingdom of Christ.” The generous knight, who has renounced all worldly ambition, is resolved to become a soldier of Christ. In Him he sees his King and General and, in order to defend and propagate Christianity, the Kingdom of Christ, he plans a spiritual crusade. Those who wish to become his companions in this noble enterprise must be determined to distinguish themselves in the service of their heavenly King. They are not to be satisfied with being ordinary soldiers in this army, but they are to constitute, as it were, Christ’s bodyguard, hence the name of the Society: “La Compañia de Jesus,” the Company of Jesus. A distinguished Protestant writer, Professor Harnack of Berlin, has recently made the following comparison which in some points is not inappropriate: “If we assert and mean the assertion to hold good even of the present time, that the Roman Church is the old Roman Empire consecrated by the Gospel, that is no mere ‘clever remark,’ but the recognition of the [76]true state of the matter historically, and the most appropriate and fruitful way of describing the character of this Church. It still governs the nations; its Popes rule like Trajan and Marcus Aurelius; Peter and Paul have taken the place of Romulus and Remus; the bishops and archbishops, of the pro-consuls; the troops of priests and monks correspond to the legions; the Jesuits to the imperial body-guard.”⁠[153]

Ignatius’ first intention was to convert the Turks in Palestine. So he went to Jerusalem, there to establish a society of apostolic men who, in the midst of the children of Mahomet, should open a way to new triumphs of the Church. This was without doubt a noble conception, one which the swords of Christian chivalry had not been able to realize by the efforts and enthusiasm of centuries. It was only after his endeavors to gain a foothold near Our Lord’s Sepulchre had been frustrated, that Ignatius gave his new Society the more general character of defending the “Kingdom of Christ” among all classes, in all countries, and by all legitimate means. As the object of the Society was purely spiritual, not temporal or political, so also the means employed were to be of spiritual order, above all preaching and teaching.

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It has often been said that the prime object of the Society was and is the crushing of Protestantism.⁠[154] This assertion is proved to be false by the life of Ignatius, and this proof is strengthened by the Constitutions, the Papal Approbations, and the whole history of the Order. The Papal Letters and the Constitutions assign as the special object of the Society: “The progress of souls in a good life and knowledge of religion; the propagation of faith by public preaching, the Spiritual Exercises and works of charity, and particularly the instruction of youth and ignorant persons in the Christian religion.”⁠[155] The Protestants are not as much as mentioned in this Papal document which states the end and the means of the Society. Pius V., in 1571, highly praised the educational work of Jesuit schools and granted them ample privileges.⁠[156] Here again it is not said that these schools or the Society are directed against Protestantism.

The evidence is so strong that Professor Huber, one of the bitterest opponents of the Order, declares: “At the time when Ignatius conceived the idea of founding a new order, he had not heard as much as the name of the German Reformer. Even more than a decade later he seems to have paid little heed to the [78]religious movement in Europe, especially in Germany.”⁠[157] As we said, it was the intention of Ignatius to convert Palestine. Frustrated in this plan, he chose Italy, Spain and Portugal as the field of labor for himself and his companions. There he endeavored to reform the morals of the people and to encourage the practice of works of charity.⁠[158] His most powerful co-worker, Francis Xavier, he sent to East India; to Germany, he sent the first Jesuit in 1540, and that only at the urgent request of the Imperial Ambassador. In 1555, one year before the death of Ignatius, the Society comprised eight provinces: Italy had two; Spain, three; Portugal, one; Brazil, one; India and Japan, one. There was none in Germany, the cradle of Protestantism. Of the sixty-five residences of the Order in that year, there were only two in Germany: those of Cologne and Vienna. The first colleges of the Society were founded in Catholic countries: at Gandia in Spain, Messina in Sicily, Goa in the East Indies. Protestant pupils were received only by exception, and in many colleges they were not admitted at all. How, then, can all this be explained, if the main object of the Society was the destruction of Protestantism and proselytism among Protestant students?⁠[159]

When Ignatius had decided to devote his life “to the greater glory of God” and the salvation of souls, he understood the necessity of higher learning. So, at the age of thirty-three, the former gallant officer and hero of Pampeluna, was not ashamed to sit with [79]children on the school-bench at Barcelona, where he began to study the rudiments of Latin. After two years he went to the university of Alcala, thence to Salamanca, and last to the university of Paris, at that time the greatest centre of philosophical and theological learning.

He arrived in the French capital in 1528. There he studied philosophy and theology, and in 1534, by a successful examination, became a Master of Arts. At the University he had won six young men: Peter Lefèvre, a Savoyard; Francis Xavier, a Navarrese; the three Spaniards, James Lainez, Alphonsus Salmeron, and Nicholas Bobadilla, and Simon Rodriguez, a Portuguese. On August 15, 1534, the little band repaired to the church of the Blessed Virgin at Montmartre in Paris, and bound themselves by a vow to the service of God. This was the birthday of the Society of Jesus. The new Order received the papal sanction from Paul III., on September 27, 1540.

The aim of the Society is expressed by its motto: Omnia ad majorem Dei gloriam—All for God’s greater glory. Hence it is the duty of the members to labor with the same zeal for the salvation of others as for their own perfection. The salvation of their neighbor they accomplish by conducting the spiritual exercises, preaching missions to the faithful, and evangelizing the heathen; by hearing confessions; by defending the faith against heretics and infidels through their writings; by teaching catechism to children and the ignorant; by lecturing on philosophy and theology in the universities; by instructing youth in grammar schools and colleges. Although various occupations are here mentioned, yet, as Professor Paulsen rightly observes, [80]“education so largely prevails in the activity of the Order that it can be called in a special sense a teaching or school order.”⁠[160] “Evidently these university men, who were engaged in drawing up the Institute, considered that, if the greatest Professor’s talents are well spent in the exposition of the greatest doctrines in theology, philosophy, and science, neither he, nor any one else, is too great to be a school master, a tutor, and a father to the boy passing from childhood to the state of manhood,—that boyhood which, as Clement of Alexandria says, furnishes the very milk of age, and from which the constitution of the man receives its temper and complexion.”⁠[161]

Ignatius, then, had founded a religious order which made the education of youth one of its primary objects. It will be well to speak here of a much discussed and most important question, namely, the educational work of religious orders in general, a work not favorably viewed by the majority of non-Catholics, to whom “monasticism”⁠[162] is one of the features in the [81]Catholic Church which they hold in special abhorrence. This antipathy is largely due to the unscrupulous slanders of the later humanists and the fierce invectives of the fathers of the Reformation. It is known what language Luther used against religious vows, which he called an “abomination, unnatural and impossible to keep, a slavery of Egypt, a sacrifice to Moloch;” etc. The monks he styled “lazy drones, cowled hypocrites,” etc.⁠[163]

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However, there are many enlightened and scholarly non-Catholics who do not share these opinions. Careful historical research revealed that the monks were not lazy drones, but that they were the civilizers of Europe and the preservers of ancient literature. Then it was admitted that they were not all hypocritical debauchees. Thus, in a recent work of an American scholar,⁠[164] we find, after the description of the monastic principles and ideals, the following statement: “The ideal monastic character was that which corresponded to these principles. And in hundreds of instances a personality with such a character did result; a personality when directing faultless in humility and obedience to God, faultless in humility and obedience when obeying; knowing neither pride nor vanity, nor covetousness nor lust, nor slothful depression; grave and silent with bent head, yet with an inner peace, even an inner passionate joy; meditative, mystic, an otherworld personality; one that dwells in spiritual facts, [83]for whom this world has passed away and the lusts thereof; one that is centered in God and in eternal life, and yet capable of intense activities; a man who will not swerve from orders received, as he swerves not from his great aim, the love of God and eternal life.” And the Protestant Professor Harnack declares that even to-day the Roman Church “possesses in its orders of monkhood and its religious societies, a deep element of life in its midst. In all ages it has produced saints, so far as men can be so called, and it still produces them to-day. Trust in God, unaffected humility, the assurance of redemption, the devotion of one’s life to the service of one’s brethren, are to be found in it; many brethren take up the cross of Christ and exercise at one and the same time that self-judgment and that joy in God which Paul and Augustine achieved. The Imitatio Christi kindles independent religious life and a fire which burns with a flame of its own.”⁠[165]

A still more remarkable reaction seems of late to take place in the minds of Protestant writers, concerning the origin and nature of “monasticism”. After various attempts had been made to explain the rise of monasticism from Essene, Brahman, or Buddhist influence, not a few Protestants admit now that it logically, and, as it were, naturally, arose from Christianity. “Monasticism”, says Mr. Taylor, “arose from within Christianity, not from without.”⁠[166] Professor Harnack even regrets it that the Reformation has abolished monasticism within the Evangelical Church. The words of this leader among rationalistic Protestants deserve to be quoted. After having pictured the [84]achievements of the Protestant Reformation, he asks what it has cost. Among other “high prices” which the Reformation had to pay, he enumerates monasticism. When the Reformation abolished monasticism, “something happened which Luther neither foresaw nor desired: monasticism, of the kind that is conceivable and necessary in the evangelical sense of the word, disappeared altogether. But every community stands in need of personalities living exclusively for its ends. The Church, for instance, needs volunteers who will abandon every other pursuit, renounce the ‘world’, and devote themselves entirely to the service of their neighbor; not because such a vocation is a ‘higher one’, but because it is a necessary one, and because no church can live without also giving rise to such a desire. But in the evangelical churches the desire has been checked by the decided attitude which they have been compelled to adopt towards Catholicism. It is a high price that we have paid; nor can the price be reduced by considering, on the other hand, how much simple and unaffected religious fervor has been kindled in home and family life. We may rejoice, however, that in the past century a beginning has been made in the direction of recouping this loss. In the institution of deaconesses and many cognate phenomena the evangelical churches are getting back what they once ejected through their inability to recognize it in the form which it then took. But it must undergo a much ampler and more varied development.”⁠[167]

One of the “ends” of the Church is education. It is natural, then, that there should be personalities who [85]live exclusively for this end, or, at least, devote themselves in a special manner to this work. In fact, from the earliest ages of Christianity, we find that religious took a special interest in the education of youth. The celebrated historian Dr. Neander of Berlin, who can not be accused of any undue leaning towards Catholicism, praises the early monks for their labor in this direction. He points out that the duties of education were particularly recommended to the monks of St. Basil. They were enjoined to take upon themselves voluntarily the education of orphans, and the education of other youths when entrusted to them by their parents. It was by no means necessary that these children should become monks; they were early instructed in some trade or art, and were afterwards at liberty to make a free choice of their vocation.⁠[168]

St. John Chrysostom most earnestly recommended to parents to employ the monks as instructors to their sons; to have their sons educated in monasteries, at a distance from the corruption of the world, where they might early be made acquainted with the Holy Scriptures, be brought up in Christian habits, and where the foundation of a true Christian character might be laid, the fruits of which would afterwards manifest themselves in every station and circumstance of life. Dr. Neander thus comments on the appeals of St. Chrysostom: “Where men truly enlightened were to be found among the monks, as was often the case, the advice of St. Chrysostom was undoubtedly correct; and even where too great attention to outward forms, [86]and too little of an evangelical spirit prevailed, education among them was more desirable than in corrupted families, or the schools of the sophists, in which vanity and ostentation were in every way encouraged.”⁠[169]

It is scarcely necessary to state that other religious orders before the foundation of the Society of Jesus, especially the Benedictines and the Dominicans, had rendered inestimable service to the cause of Christian education. Cardinal Newman compares the educational work of these three orders in the following terms: “As the physical universe is sustained and carried on in dependence on certain centres of power and laws of operation, so the course of the social and political world, and of that great religious organization called the Catholic Church, is found to proceed for the most part from the presence or action of definite persons, places, events, and institutions, as the visible cause of the whole.... Education follows the same law: it has its history in Christianity, and its doctors or masters in that history. It has had three periods: the ancient, the medieval, and the modern; and there are three religious orders in those periods respectively which succeed, one the other, on its public stage, and represent the teaching given by the Catholic Church during the time of their ascendancy. The first period is that long series of centuries, during which society was breaking, or had broken up, and then slowly attempted its own reconstruction; the second may be called the period of reconstruction; and the third dates from the Reformation, when that peculiar movement of mind commenced, the issue of which is still to come. Now, St. Benedict has had the training of [87]the ancient intellect, St. Dominic of the medieval, and St. Ignatius of the modern.... Ignatius, a man of the world before his conversion, transmitted as a legacy to his disciples that knowledge of mankind which cannot be learned in cloisters.”⁠[170]

However, none of the religious orders of the Middle Ages had taken the education of youth formally and expressly into its constitution. As regards the Benedictines, Cardinal Newman maintains that their occupation with literary and historical studies was, in a way, a compromise with the primary end of their institute. The monastic institute, as the great Benedictine scholar Mabillon says, demands summa quies, the most perfect quietness. Hence the studies which they pursued with special predilection, were such as did not excite the mind: the study of Holy Scripture and the Fathers, the examination of ancient manuscripts, editions and biographies of the Fathers, studies which can be undergone in silence and quietness.⁠[171] So was also the educational work which they undertook accidental to the primary object of their institute. The Order of St. Dominic had a much closer, a more direct and explicit connection with studies and teaching. But it was chiefly the teaching of the highest branches, of theology, the “science of sciences”, and of philosophy, which this order undertook. What we now understand by “education” was only remotely included in the object of the Order of St. Dominic.

St. Ignatius was the first to assume the education of youth as a special part of the work of a religious order, as a special ministry, a special means of obtaining [88]the end of his Society: the glory of God and the salvation of souls. “We can,” says Cicero, “do no greater or better service to the commonwealth than to teach and instruct youth.” St. Ignatius knew this full well, he also knew that it applied to the supernatural commonwealth, the City of God, the Church of Christ.

In opposition to the pagan ideas of the radical school of the humanists, he deemed it absolutely necessary that all efforts should be made to instil the principles of the true religion, together with useful knowledge, into the minds of boys; for as the Wise Man says: “A young man, according to his way, even when he is old, he will not depart from it.” (Prov., 22, 6.)—“Hence”, as the Jesuit theologian Suarez says: “God raised up St. Ignatius, and gave to him this mind and counsel, without the motive and example of other religious orders, and it has been approved by the authority of His Vicar.”⁠[172]

This measure of St. Ignatius in taking the education of youth as a fundamental part into his order, marks an important epoch in the history of Catholic education. After the time of St. Ignatius other religious congregations were founded with the special object of undertaking the education of the young; we mention only the Christian Brothers, founded by Saint de La Salle, and the Piarists. For the education of women there are numerous congregations of sisters, which exclusively or primarily are engaged in imparting a refined and thoroughly Christian education.

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Of late the educational work of religious orders has frequently been objected to, even by some who call themselves Catholics. But in spite of all that has been said to the contrary, the care which religious orders take of education is a source of blessings for the pupils, the family, and the whole community. Religious, above all, try to impart a religious, a Christian education. How useful, how absolutely necessary this is for society as well as for the individual pupil, need not be discussed. Further, in the case of religious teachers a guarantee is given that persons of noble character and high aspirations devote their whole lives to the cause of education. Must we not expect that such teachers will obtain most satisfactory results in their work? At all events, it cannot be denied that the educational labors of the Society were crowned with success.

Protestant historians, as Ranke, Paulsen, and others, admit that the Jesuit schools of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were far more successful than their Protestant rivals. Whence the difference? Ranke finds it in the exactness and nicety of the methods of the Society. This was undoubtedly one cause of their greater success. Still it is more probable that the chief reason is to be sought in the teachers themselves. The teachers in the Jesuit colleges were, on the whole, better fitted for their work than were most other teachers. It is not difficult to prove this assertion. The social position of teachers was, during these centuries, a most undesirable one.⁠[173] The salaries [90]were so miserable that the teachers, to support themselves and their families, had to practise some other profession or trade. Professor Paulsen states that in Saxony, towards the close of the sixteenth century, the one schoolmaster of a small town was regularly organist, town-clerk and sexton.⁠[174] The village schoolmasters were mostly sextons, field-guards, or tailors. As late as 1738, an order was issued in Prussia to the effect that in the country there should be no other tailors besides the sextons and schoolmasters, and later on Frederick the Great declared: “tailors are bad schoolmasters,” and so he preferred to make teachers out of old soldiers, invalid corporals, and sergeants. The position of teachers in the higher schools was not much more enticing. They had to obtain some addition to their scanty salaries by a sort of genteel beggary: by dedicating books or orations to influential persons, by writing poems for weddings or similar occasions. Teachers were always far worse off than lawyers or physicians. It was always a true saying, but especially in those times:

which may be freely rendered:

The famous rector of the school of Ilfeld, Neander, [91]was told one day by his former colleague of Schulpforta, Gigas, who had retired to a parish: “You should have had yourself flayed alive rather than stay so many years with the wicked and devilish youths of to-day.” And Schekkius, who died in 1704, had the following inscription painted on the wall of the Gymnasium in Hildesheim:

“The schoolmasters have horses’ and asses’ labor; they have to swallow much dust, stench and smoke to boot; discomfort, calumnies, and sundry troubles, with ingratitude in fine laborum.”

We cannot wonder that the desudare in pulvere scholastico was not considered a desirable profession, and that the school career was sought only as a transitory occupation, which was abandoned as soon as a good parsonage was offered. Others again entered upon this career because, for lack of talent or other qualities, they could not expect to succeed in the ministry.⁠[175] The changes among the teachers, in Saxony and elsewhere, were exceedingly frequent. It was very common among Protestant theologians to teach for one year, or at the most two years, and then to retire to a parish.⁠[176]

What do we find among the Jesuits? The most talented youths entered their ranks, and after a long and solid training many taught in the colleges their whole lives, others for at least five or more years. They had not to worry about their livelihood, as the Order provided all they needed. So they could devote [92]themselves, all their time and strength, to the work of education.⁠[177] But this was possible only because they had joined a religious order, which had taken up the education of youth as one of its special ministries. I have never found that any writers who discuss the causes of the superiority of the Jesuit schools have taken this fact into account. And yet it was undoubtedly one of the most important reasons of the great success of the colleges of the Society.

But may not even at the present day religious most beneficially be employed as educators of Catholic youth? Will not their state of life secure some advantages for the work of education? It has repeatedly been stated by non-Catholic writers that the schools of the teaching congregations in France were far more successful than the lay schools.⁠[178] What is the explanation of this fact, so unwelcome to those who have to admit it? A recent article in an American magazine may help us to find a very plausible explanation. Professor Münsterberg of Harvard writes⁠[179]: “The [93]greater number of those who devote themselves to higher teaching in America are young men without means, too often without breeding; and yet that would be easily compensated for, if they were men of the best minds, but they are not. They are mostly men of a passive, almost indifferent sort of mind, without intellectual energy, men who see in the academic career a modest safe path of life ... while our best young men must rush to law, and banking, and what not,” and all this because the salaries are not high enough.⁠[180] It is not our task to investigate or [94]defend the correctness of these statements, which unquestionably contain a great deal of truth.

What do we find in religious orders? No doubt, the type of mind described in the preceding lines is to be met with among them; but in schools, conducted by religious, men are teaching who are “of the best minds”, sometimes also men who belong to the best Catholic families in the land. The Jesuits, in particular, have even been charged with drawing the finest talents and the sons of the most distinguished families to their Order. If this were true, these talents would not be lost to society. For they are working for the noblest cause, the education of the young. Their state of life made firm and lasting by sacred vows, frees them from family cares and family troubles, and permits them to devote all their time and energy to education. The Jesuit is prevented from seeking earthly remuneration, consequently, no “better chance”, no higher salary offered by other occupations, will entice him to forsake his arduous but sublime task.

In the year 1879, at the time of violent agitations against the Jesuit colleges in France, a writer in the Paris Figaro called attention to the fact how little a Jesuit teacher needed. In the provinces, a Jesuit teacher costs one thousand francs, in Paris, a little more, and this is for board, clothes, etc. Going from one college to another, he takes with him his crucifix, his breviary, and the clothes which he wears on his body, his manuscripts, if he has any, and that is all. And yet, as the same writer points out, among these truly poor men, among these volunteers to the noble cause of education, are men who are the sons of millionaires, others who have received the badge of the [95]“Legion of Honor”, others who had been awarded this distinction before they became Jesuits; there are among them men who had been able officers in the army or navy. Indeed, these men must see in the education of youth something more than an occupation for gaining a livelihood.

In this country the instability of teachers has more than once formed the subject of complaints. “In Maine,⁠[181] some time ago, four years was found to be the average time of service. The report of 1892 on the high schools of Washington (D. C.) remarks that, with few exceptions, all professionally prepared teachers who had occupied their positions four years ago had resigned to enter more lucrative positions. Better opportunities are offered not only to male but to female teachers, who also give up their positions to enter upon married life. Even well-to-do American women, generally highly educated, well informed, and at the same time enterprising, prefer to spend a few years in teaching rather than await their future inactively. The official report condenses all this in the mournful remark: ‘In the United States the profession of teaching seems to be a kind of waiting-room in which the young girl awaits a congenial, ulterior support, and the young man a more advantageous position.’”⁠[182]

It is evident that teaching must suffer from such instability. No professional skill is possible in the majority of teachers; experience and steadfastness, two [96]important elements in education, are lacking. This latter point may be illustrated by a comparison drawn between the Catholic Sister and the Protestant Deaconess. The comparison has been drawn by a Protestant lady in Germany, Frau Elisabeth Gnauck-Kühne, who for many years was prominent in works of Christian charity. She says:⁠[183] “The Catholic Sister has made a binding vow, she has burnt the ships behind her; earthly cares, earthly pleasures she knows no more, her conversation is in heaven. It is the same to her whither she goes, whom she attends, poor or rich, old or young, high or low, all these circumstances are immaterial; for she has balanced her account with the life on this side of the grave, she does nothing by halves. The Evangelical Deaconess in theory stands in a different position. Her church demands of her no oath of renunciation, she has not destroyed the bridge, she may at any moment return to the fleshpots of Egypt, especially when a man wants her for his wife. Then the motives which have led her to the service of the sick will hold no longer; then the needs, which, as far as lay in her, she wished to remedy, must continue to exist, she doffs the severe garb and decks herself with the orange-blossoms. Such being the case, is it not most natural that she yields more easily to the temptation of having one eye on her vocation, the other on the world? What is excluded in the case of the Catholic Sister, the desertion of her vocation and marriage, are possible for her, and why should she not find the possibility desirable? If, in addition, the wish is father to the thought, there arises [97]consciously or unconsciously, that disposition which has been felt as a ‘tinge of worldliness.’ But it would be unfair to blame the Deaconess. Protestantism with irresistible consistency must produce the described disposition and half-heartedness, for it esteems married life more highly than voluntary virginity, and under all circumstances it is lawful and laudable to strive after that which is higher and better. The Catholic Church, on the other hand, while considering married life a sacred state, gives a higher rank to life-long virginity consecrated to God.”

This surprising tribute to the usefulness and dignity of the religious life as practised in the Catholic Church, may be applied with equal force to the religious teachers. They, too, do nothing by halves; “their hearts are not divided.”⁠[184] “For the kingdom of heaven’s sake”⁠[185] they have renounced the joys of family life. All their affections purified, ennobled and made supernatural, are to be bestowed on those entrusted to their care. It is Christ whom they have to see in the little ones, according to the words of the Divine Master: “He that receiveth one such little child in my name receiveth me.” We do not mean to imply that married men may not be excellent teachers,—thousands have been such,—nor that all religious on account of their state are good teachers. We merely wish to prove that the religious state in itself affords many advantages for the cause of education. The difficulties connected with education will be borne more patiently, sometimes even heroically, by one who has bound himself to a life of perfect obedience and self-sacrifice.

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Besides, in a teaching order, a continuity of aim and effort is effected which is and must be wanting in individuals. Mr. Quick has well emphasized this fact: “By corporate life you secure continuity of effort. There is to me something very attractive in the idea of a teaching society. How such a society might capitalize its discoveries. The Roman Church has shown a genius for such societies, witness the Jesuits and the Christian Brothers. The experience of centuries must have taught them much that we could learn of them.”⁠[186] For this reason a change of Professors in a Jesuit College is attended by fewer inconveniences, as all have been trained under the same system, and thus have imbibed the pedagogical traditions of the Order.

A French writer has spoken of another advantage, the moral influence, which the religious exercises owing to his state. “The Jesuit teacher”—the same may be said of all religious teachers—“is not a paid official. The pupils look up to him as a loved and venerated friend. Perhaps they know that he is the scion of an illustrious family, who could have followed a splendid career in life, who could have succeeded in the world of finances and industry. But he preferred to take the black gown and to devote himself to education.”⁠[187]

The source of the growing antipathy against the educational labors of religious is either hatred of the Catholic religion or religious indifferentism. When people do not care any more for the supernatural, the education based professedly on supernatural views, seems to them out of date, antiquated, a remnant of [99]medieval priestcraft and clerical tyranny. Be it remarked, however, that this opposition is not new to our age. The very Middle Ages witnessed a violent opposition to the teaching of religious orders. This was especially the case in the University of Paris, where, in the thirteenth century, a strong rationalistic party, headed by William of Saint-Amour, endeavored to expel the Dominicans and Franciscans from the professorial chair. William’s contention was that the religious should not be allowed to teach, but should employ themselves in manual labors, as did the monks in olden times. Then it was that three able pens were employed to defend the religious orders and their work: those of Bonaventure, of Albertus Magnus, and of Thomas Aquinas. St. Thomas wrote his little work: “Against those who attack, Religion and the Worship of God”,⁠[188] of which Fleury said that it had always been regarded as the most perfect apology for religious orders. In the second chapter, headed “Whether Religious may teach”, and the third, “Whether Religious may be a corporate body of secular teachers”, the Saint refutes the objections of William in a most lucid and powerful manner, and sets forth the advantages which the Church and society may derive from teaching by religious orders. He contends that a religious order may be instituted for any work of mercy. As teaching is a work of mercy, a religious order may be founded with the special end of teaching.⁠[189] And as the common good is to be preferred [100]to private utility a monk may leave his solitude with permission of Superiors, to minister to the general good by teaching as well as by writing.

We see from this fact that history repeats itself, and that the modern attacks on the educational labors of religious communities are by no means new. The tactics of the enemies of the religious change, the pretexts of attacks on them will vary, but the nature of the warfare is ever the same. It is conscious or unconscious opposition to the principles of Christianity. Therefore, we find that those who have the interest of religion at heart, are not among the opponents of “clerical” education.

Even Protestants frankly admit that the union of the clerical office with that of the teacher offers great advantages. Sir Joshua Fitch, the distinguished English educator, thinks that the “parents in parting with the moral supervision of their sons are not unreasonably disposed to place increased confidence in a headmaster who combines the scholarship and the skill of teaching with the dignity and the weight of the clergyman’s office.”⁠[190] And Professor Paulsen, certainly not theologically biased, says that it was not without disadvantages that the theologians were replaced in the Gymnasia by philologians and mathematicians, a change which for a long time was wished, undoubtedly not without good reasons. The theologian, owing to his whole training, had an inclination towards the care of the souls; the interest in the whole man was the centre of his calling.⁠[191]

[101]

What we have said so far undoubtedly justifies us in maintaining that the measure adopted by Ignatius, in making education a special ministry of a religious order, marks an epoch of prime importance in the history of Catholic pedagogy.

The character and object of the Society, the means it applies for obtaining its object, and its system of administration are laid down in the Constitutions of the Society. These Constitutions are the work of St. Ignatius, not, as has been asserted, of his successor Lainez, although the latter was one of those Fathers whom Ignatius consulted very frequently whilst drawing up the Constitutions. St. Ignatius died in 1556; in 1558 the representatives of the Order met together and elected James Lainez second General of the Society. They examined the Constitution which Father Ignatius had left at his death, and received it with unanimity, just as it stood. They presented it to the Sovereign Pontiff Paul IV., who committed the code to four Cardinals for accurate revision. The commission returned it, without having altered a word.⁠[192]

We must explain a few details of the organization of the Order, as certain terms will be used again and again in this work. The Order is divided into Provinces, which comprise all the colleges and other houses in a certain country or district. The Superior of a Province is called Provincial; he is appointed by the General for a number of years. Several Provinces form a so-called Assistancy. The head of the Order is the General, elected for lifetime by the General Congregation. He possesses full jurisdiction and administrative power in the Order. Five assistants form, as [102]it were, his council. They are elected by the General Congregation, from the various assistancies. They are now five: those of Italy, Germany (with Austria, Galicia, Belgium and Holland), France, England and North America, Spain (with Portugal). The legislative body of the Order is the General Congregation. It alone can add to the Constitutions, change or abrogate. It consists of the General (after his death, his Vicar), the Assistants, the Provincials, and two special deputies, elected by each province. It assembles only after the death of a General, or in extraordinary cases at the command of the General. As was said, it elects a new General and his assistants, and it may depose the General for grave reasons. It is clear, then, that the General’s power is not so absolute as it is sometimes represented to be, but is wisely limited.

In this way the greatest possible centralization is secured in the hands of the General, and yet the danger of abusing so great a power is excluded by the institution of the Assistants. Ribadeneira has well remarked that this form of government borders closely upon monarchy, but has still more in common with an oligarchy, for it avoids everything faulty in each of the two systems and borrows the best points of both. From the monarchy it takes its unity and stability; from the oligarchy the existence of a council, so that the General may command every one, and at the same time, be subject to every one (praesit et subsit).⁠[193]

In connection with the Constitutions we must mention a book which is said to exhibit the “true” character of the Society, namely the so-called Monita [103]Secreta, or code of secret instructions, supposed to have been drawn up by Aquaviva, the fifth General, for the benefit of Superiors and others who are considered fit to be initiated in the full mystery of the schemes of the Society. It imputes to the Society the most crooked designs to achieve the aggrandizement of the Order. It has been reprinted again and again, in England as late as 1850 (London), in France 1870 and 1876, in Germany 1886 and 1901. The work has repeatedly been proved to be an infamous libel, written by one Zahorowski, who had been discharged from the Society in 1611 or 1612. Even such enemies of the Society as the Jansenist Arnauld, the “Old-Catholics” Döllinger, Huber, Reusch, and Friedrich, declare it “spurious and a lampoon on the Order.” Dr. Littledale calls it “an ingenious forgery”,⁠[194] it has been recently called a fraudulent squib by Protestants like Professor Harnack (1891), Tschackert (1891), and others.⁠[195] And still, in spite of all this adverse authority, recent Protestant publications have referred to this forgery as to an authentic document. No, not the Monita Secreta, but the Constitutions, available to any one, contain the spirit of the Society.

The Constitutions are divided into ten parts, the fourth of which treats of studies. This part is the longest of all, and its perfect arrangement met with especial admiration. After the promulgation of the Constitutions successive General Congregations issued [104]decrees, emphasizing the vast importance of the education of youth, and the great esteem to be had for the teaching of grammar and the classics. It is called “a special and characteristic ministry of the Society” (Congr. 8., Dec. 8.), “one of the most desirable occupations and most beneficial to many” (C. 7., D. 26.). In the Ratio Studiorum, the very first Rule reads:⁠[196] “As it is one of the principal ministries of our Society to teach all the branches of knowledge, which according to our institute may be taught, in such a manner that thereby men may be led to the knowledge and love of our Creator and Redeemer, the Provincial should consider it his duty to see with all diligence, that the fruit which the grace of our vocation requires, corresponds with the manifold labors of our schools.” This work of teaching boys is considered so important in the Society that in the last vows it is expressly mentioned: “I vow according to obedience a special concern for the education of boys.”

The branches which “according to the Institute may be taught,” are chiefly those that are connected with higher education. The Society has been blamed for neglecting elementary education. Professor Huber thinks that the Jesuits did so, “first, because this task seemed to them to be more subordinate, since the hold on the people was assured to them any way by their ecclesiastical influence; secondly, because on the whole they were no friends of popular education, however insignificant; for the complete ignorance of the masses did but fortify their control of them.”⁠[197] This is a [105]flagrant injustice and sheer calumny. The Order never opposed popular education. On the contrary, the Constitutions expressly declare it to be a laudable work: “Moreover it would be a work of charity to teach reading and writing, if the Society had a sufficient number of men. But on account of dearth of men we are not ordinarily used for this purpose.”⁠[198]—This is the proper reason, and the only one why the Jesuits could not undertake elementary education. They had never men enough to supply the demands for higher education. Actually hundreds of applications from bishops and princes for erecting colleges had to be refused. As early as 1565, the Second General Congregation had to decree that “existing colleges should rather be strengthened than new ones admitted. The latter should be done only if there was a sufficient endowment and a sufficient number of teachers available.”⁠[199]

How, then, could the Society enter so vast a field as that of elementary education? Besides the whole intellectual training of the Jesuits fitted them better for the higher branches. At the present day, when the watchword is “specialization”, the Jesuits should [106]rather find recognition than censure, for having wisely limited their work centuries ago. Moreover, the Jesuits did teach elementary branches, at least in some places, not only in Paraguay, but also in Europe. Father Nadal writes: “In the elementary class (classic abecedariorum), which may be opened with the permission of the General, the boys are taught reading and writing. A brother may be employed to assist the teacher if the class should be too large.”⁠[200]—Be it further added that at present, in the foreign missions, v. g. in Syria, the Jesuits conduct hundreds of elementary schools, in which most branches are taught by lay brothers or by sisters of various teaching congregations.⁠[201]

The fourth part of the Constitutions contains only the general principles, not a complete system of education. That this more general legislation was not considered final by St. Ignatius, follows from the passage in which he states that “a number of points will be treated of separately in some document approved by the General Superior.”⁠[202] This is the express warrant, contained in the Constitutions, for the future Ratio Studiorum, or System of Studies in the Society of Jesus.

The number of colleges of the Society grew very rapidly. Colleges were opened during the life-time of St. Ignatius, at Messina, Palermo, Naples, and other towns in Italy; at Gandia, Salamanca, Valencia, Alcala, Burgos, Valladolid, and Saragossa in Spain; at Lisbon in Portugal; at Vienna in Austria; and at Billom in France. After the death of the first General (1556), many more colleges were added to the list, especially in those parts of Germany and the Netherlands which had remained faithful to the Catholic Church. Thus Ingolstadt, Cologne, Prague, Tyrnau (Hungary) were opened in 1556, Munich 1559, Treves 1560, Innsbruck and Mentz 1561, etc.⁠[203] In Belgium Audenarde 1566, Douay 1568, Bruges 1571, Antwerp 1575, Liège 1582, etc. But the Society possessed as yet no uniform system of education; the colleges in the various countries at first followed, more or less, the systems prevailing there, not however, without improving the existing methods according to the general principles of the fourth part of the Constitutions. Still, it would be altogether wrong to suppose that the Ratio Studiorum, or Plan of Studies, drawn up 1584–1599, was the first important document [108]of its kind. The recent historical researches of the Spanish Jesuits have shed much new light on this question.⁠[204] These Fathers have published in 1901–1902 many important documents on the educational methods of the Society, drawn up before 1584. Three documents especially exhibit three complete “Plans of Studies.” The first was written by Father Jerome Nadal (Latinized Natalis), probably between 1548–1552, during the life-time of St. Ignatius. Nadal was well fitted for drawing up a plan of studies. Possessed of great talent and a singular prudence, he had made excellent studies in the University of Paris. Appointed Rector of the new College at Messina, in 1548, he wrote his treatise De Studiis Societatis Jesu, the first plan of studies of the Society known thus far.⁠[205] The second is an adaptation of Father Nadal’s plan which was sent from Messina to the Roman College.⁠[206] The most important is the third, written by Father Ledesma. This distinguished scholar had studied in the Universities of Alcala, Paris and Louvain. Immediately after his entrance into the Society, in 1557, he taught in the Roman College until his death, in 1575. As Prefect of Studies in this college, he drew up a plan of studies which practically contains, at least in outline, all points which were later on laid down in the Ratio Studiorum concerning classical [109]studies.⁠[207] Besides these three documents there are extant fragments of plans of studies of various colleges in Italy, France, Spain, Portugal, and Germany.⁠[208]

With the increase of the colleges, the want of a uniform system for the whole Society was felt more and more. Teachers and superiors of schools and provinces asked more urgently for the plan of studies which St. Ignatius had promised in the Constitutions. The final completion of the educational system was reserved to the fifth General of the Order, Father Claudius Aquaviva, who governed the Society from 1581–1615. His Generalate was a most stormy, but at the same time the most brilliant, epoch in the history of the Order. It was the glorious time of the English and Japanese martyrs; the time when the great missions in Japan, China, and Brazil began to flourish; the time in which learned men like Bellarmine, Suarez, Maldonatus, Toletus, de Lugo, Vasquez, Molina, Lessius, a Lapide, Peter Canisius, Clavius, and a host of other writers not only added lustre to the Society, but were held to be the foremost scholars of the age and the most renowned champions of the Catholic Church.

In 1584, Father Aquaviva called to Rome six experienced schoolmen, who had been elected from different nationalities and provinces, in order that the peculiarities of the various nations might be considered in the formation of a system which was destined to be put to practice in so many countries all over the [110]world. These men worked for about a year, consulting authors on education, examining the regulations and customs of universities and colleges, especially those of the Roman College, and the letters, observations, and other documents sent to Rome from the various provinces. The standard which guided these men in their deliberations was the fourth part of the Constitutions. In 1585 they presented the result of their labor to the General.⁠[209] In 1586, Father Aquaviva sent the report to the provinces; and at the same time ordered that in each province at least five men of eminent learning and experience should examine the report, first in private, then in common, and should send the result of their examination to Rome.

How much liberty was granted in these remarks on the educational methods then prevailing in the Order, may be seen from the verdict given by James Pontanus (his German name was Spanmiller), one of the ablest classic scholars of the Society. He boldly censures some abuses, especially that sometimes young men were employed in teaching who were not sufficiently prepared for the work; men who were not well grounded in Greek; that too frequent changes occurred among teachers, etc. He deplores the fact that too much weight is laid on physics, metaphysics, and dialectics, and that the humanistic studies are not valued as they deserve. “Without classical education,” he says, “the other branches of study are cold, dumb and dead; classical learning gives these other studies life, breath, motion, blood and language.” Pontanus’ memorandum was by no means free from [111]exaggerations and unwarranted generalizations of single instances. But it is interesting to see how freely opinions could be uttered on a question of such importance.⁠[210]

The notes and suggestions sent from the different provinces were examined by the most prominent Professors of the Roman College and three members of the committee of 1584–85, and then were used in drawing up a second plan. This new plan, after having been revised by the General and his Assistants, was sent to the provinces in 1591 as Ratio atque Institutio Studiorum, the editio princeps of the Ratio. The Provincials who came to Rome for the fifth General Congregation (1593–94), again reported on the results of the plan as practised during the last years, and demanded some changes. At length, in 1599, when every possible effort had been made, when theory and practice alike had been consulted, and every advisable modification had been added, the final plan of studies appeared under the title: Ratio atque Institutio Studiorum Societatis Jesu (Naples 1599), usually quoted as Ratio Studiorum. Well could it be said that this Ratio was “the fruit of many prayers, of long and patient efforts, and the result of the combined wisdom of the whole Order.”—It has sometimes been said that the word Ratio Studiorum is a misnomer, as it does not propose any educational principles. However, as Father Eyre, S. J., years ago has pointed out,⁠[211] Ratio, as applied to studies, more naturally means method than principle, and the Ratio Studiorum is essentially [112]a practical method or system of teaching. Hence the name is altogether appropriate.

How easily an author, even without ill will, may be led into mistakes regarding the Ratio Studiorum, can be inferred from the following passage which is found in a Catholic magazine.⁠[212] “The work which caused the greatest sensation was the Ratio atque Institutio Studiorum Societatis Jesu, published in the College at Rome in 1586. It took nine months to print it. The part bearing on theological opinions raised a storm of opposition among the other religious orders, principally the Dominicans, who denounced it to the Inquisition. The result was that Sixtus V. pronounced against the book, and, in the following editions, the chapter De Opinionum Delectu was omitted.” The same mistake is made by Dr. Huber.⁠[213]

The author of the article was betrayed into making these very inaccurate statements by implicitly trusting Debure (Biographie Instructive, Paris, 1764). The historical truth is established by Father Pachtler,⁠[214] and by Father Duhr.⁠[215] The evidence given by Father Pachtler may be summed up as follows:

1. The Ratio of 1586 was in no sense of the word “published”, and hence caused no “sensation” whatever. It was only the project or plan of a Ratio, and printed privately for the members of the Order. How it should have taken “nine months to print it,” is unintelligible; the error arose probably from misunderstanding the fact, that it took the six fathers who [113]formed the committee, nine months to work out the plan of the Ratio.

2. This first draft, written in the form of dissertations, is now very rare. It is known to exist at present in Trier (Treves), Berlin, Milan, and Marseilles. Father Pachtler has for the first time reprinted it entirely from the copy found in the city library at Trier (located in the former Jesuit College).

3. This private document was not “denounced to the Inquisition,” but was wrongfully seized by the “Spanish Inquisition,” at the instance of the Spanish Dominicans, set on by some disloyal Spanish Jesuits who were soon after expelled from the Society.

4. As soon as the seizure was reported to Rome, Father Aquaviva complained directly to Pope Sixtus V. This energetic Pope, formerly a Franciscan and by no means partial to the Jesuits, far from “pronouncing against the book,” became highly incensed at the action of the Spanish Inquisition, and wrote a characteristic dispatch to his nuncio in Spain, inclosing a letter to the Cardinal Grand Inquisitor Quiroga, and bidding the nuncio deliver the letter to the Cardinal only after having read it to him. In this letter the masterful Pontiff commands Quiroga, in virtue of his apostolic power, forthwith to restore to the Society the book of the Institute (which had also been seized), and especially the Ratio Studiorum. And unless he obeyed this command, the Pope threatened to depose him at once from the office of Grand Inquisitor, and strip him of the dignity of Cardinal.⁠[216]

5. The second draft of the Ratio was sent to the [114]Provinces in 1591. In this draft the chapter De Opinionum Delectu (i. e. catalogue of philosophical and theological questions which were not to be taught in the Society), was omitted, but was sent out separately for examination in the following year. Hence the statement that in the following editions the chapter De Opinionum Delectu was omitted, is again inaccurate.

6. The final Ratio, including, of course, the Catalogus Quaestionum, was, as we have seen before, promulgated in 1599.⁠[217]

This final Ratio did not contain any discussions on the educational value of different subjects, nor any treatises why this or that method had been adopted. Such discussions had preceded, and had been contained in the Ratio of 1585.⁠[218] That of 1599 was a code of laws, a collection of rules for the different officials, in whose hands lies the government of a college, and for the teachers of the various classes. The rules are divided as follows:

Then follow various rules: for the pupils, for the management of academies (literary and debating societies) etc.

The rules under No. I are those of the Superiors.⁠[220] The entire government of a college is in the hands of the Rector (President). He is also the court of appeal in all disputed questions among the teachers, or between the masters and the students. He is to inspect the classes from time to time, in order to inform himself of the progress of the students, and to give advice to the teachers. As far as possible, he is to take an interest in each pupil personally. Nothing of importance can be undertaken in the college without consulting him, nor can any custom of the house be changed without his consent. The subordinate officials have that amount of authority which he gives [116]them, and they are obliged to report to him frequently on the conditions of affairs in the college. The Rector’s power is, however, not absolute; he has to follow the laws laid down for him. Besides he is provided with a Board of Consultors and he is obliged to ask their opinion on all matters of greater moment, although he remains free to follow their advice or to reject it. The teachers have to carry out the decisions of the Rector, but they may always have recourse to the higher Superior, the Provincial. The Provincial visits the colleges at least once a year, and every teacher has to confer with him privately and may lay before him any complaints against the Rector. In this manner, a firm centralized government is ensured, while at the same time any arbitrariness on the part of Superiors is prevented.

Interesting are, in this regard, the words of Father Nadal: “Let the Rector have his ordinary advisers (consultores) and let him hold regular meetings (concilia). One is the meeting of ‘languages’, in which all teachers of the languages take part; the second of philosophy, and the third of theology. To these meetings the Rector may invite two or three other experienced men, if he thinks it necessary or useful. In order to settle a question concerning languages, or philosophy, or theology, a meeting of the respective professors should be held; if a question concerns the whole institution, a meeting of all professors should be called. However, the Rector is not so bound that he could not do anything without convoking such a meeting. For these meetings are held that he may benefit by their advice. The whole authority and responsibility of the administration rests with him; but every [117]year the Rector shall report to the General about the college, and all officials of the college shall inform the General through sealed letters about the administration by the Rector.”⁠[221]

The chief assistant of the Rector is the Prefect of Studies. To him belongs the direct supervision of the classes and everything connected with instruction. He must be a man of literary and scientific accomplishments and of experience in teaching, so that both teachers and students can have recourse to him with confidence in all questions pertaining to education. It is his duty to assign the students to their proper classes, to determine the matter of examination, and to appoint the examiners, to select the authors to be read during the following scholastic year,⁠[222] to visit every class at least once in two weeks, to admonish the masters of any defects he notices in their manner of teaching, and to direct them by other useful advice. In all this he is the instrument of the Rector, whom he has to consult in all important matters.

There is another assistant of the Rector, the Prefect of Discipline, who is immediately responsible for all that concerns external order and discipline. From these few details, it will appear that the government of a Jesuit college is, at once, extremely simple and highly efficient.

The regulations contained under No. II are for the theological faculty in universities and seminaries. We have to examine chiefly the last two classes: the regulations [118]for the faculty of Arts or Philosophy, and those for the Studia inferiora or Humanities. These “lower studies” were for the greater part literary and correspond to the classical course of the high school and part of the college. The Ratio Studiorum treated languages, mathematics and sciences not simultaneously, but successively; hence the distinction between Philosophy (Arts) and Studia inferiora.

In the five lower classes—in many places there were six—the classical languages were the staple studies. Other branches, as history and geography, were to be treated as accessories or complements of the literary studies. The task for each grade is expressed in the first rule of the Professor of the respective class.⁠[223]

Lower Grammar. The aim of this class is a perfect knowledge of the rudiments and elementary knowledge of the syntax.—In Greek: reading, writing, and a certain portion of the grammar. The work used for the prelection,⁠[224] will be some easy selections from Cicero, besides fables of Phaedrus and Lives of Nepos.

Middle Grammar. The aim is a knowledge, though not entire, of all grammar; and, for the prelection, only the select epistles, narrations, descriptions and the like from Cicero, with the Commentaries of Caesar, and some of the easiest poems of Ovid.—In Greek: the fables of Aesop, select dialogues of Lucian, the Tablet of Cebes.

Upper Grammar. The aim is a complete knowledge [119]of grammar, including all the exceptions and idioms in syntax, figures and rhetoric, and the art of versification.—In Greek: the eight parts of speech, or all the rudiments. For the lessons: in prose, the most important epistles of Cicero, the books, De Amicitia, De Senectute, and others of the kind, or even some of the easier orations; in poetry, some select elegies and epistles of Ovid, also selection from Catullus, Tibullus, Propertius, and the Eclogues of Virgil, or some of Virgil’s easier books, as the fourth book of the Georgics, or the fifth and seventh books of the Aeneid.—In Greek: St. Chrysostom, Aesop, and the like.

Humanities. The aim is to prepare, as it were, the ground for eloquence, which is done in three ways: by a knowledge of the language, some erudition, and a sketch of the precepts pertaining to rhetoric. For a command of the language, which consists chiefly in acquiring propriety of expression and fluency, the one prose author employed in daily prelections is Cicero; as historical writers, Caesar, Sallust, Livy, Curtius, and others of the kind; the poets used are, first of all, Virgil; also odes of Horace, with the elegies, epigrams and other productions of illustrious poets, expurgated; in like manner orators, historians, and poets, in the vernacular (1832). The erudition conveyed should be slight, and only to stimulate and recreate the mind, not to impede progress in learning the tongue. The precepts will be the general rules of expression and style, and the special rules on the minor kinds of composition, epistles, narrations, descriptions, both in verse and prose.—In Greek: the art of versification, and some notions of the dialects; also a clear understanding of [120]authors, and some composition in Greek. The Greek prose authors will be Saints Chrysostom and Basil, epistles of Plato and Synesius, and some selections from Plutarch; the poets: Homer, Phocylides, Theognis, St. Gregory Nazianzen, Synesius, and others like them.

Rhetoric. The grade of this class cannot be easily defined. For it trains to perfect eloquence, which comprises two great faculties, the oratorical and the poetical, the former chiefly being the object of culture; nor does it regard only the practical, but the beautiful also. For the precepts, Cicero may be supplemented with Quintilian and Aristotle. The style, which may be assisted by drawing on the most approved historians and poets, is to be formed on Cicero; all of his works are most fitted for this purpose, but only his speeches should be made the subject of prelection, that the precepts of the art may be seen in practice.—As to the vernacular, the style should be formed on the best authors (1832). The erudition will be derived from the history and manners of nations, from the authority of writers and all learning; but moderately as befits the capacity of the students.—In Greek: the fuller knowledge of authors and of dialects is to be acquired. The Greek authors, whether orators, historians, or poets, are to be ancient and classic: Demosthenes, Plato, Thucydides, Homer, Hesiod, Pindar, and others of the kind, including Saints Nazianzen, Basil, and Chrysostom.

Let it not be imagined, however, that this plan was followed slavishly. The different provinces of the Order made such adaptations and introduced such changes as they thought best for their respective countries. [121]We give here the plan which was followed in the colleges in Upper Germany, in the beginning of the eighteenth century. It is taken from the Ratio et Via of Father Kropf, published in 1736.⁠[225]

Lower Grammar. First Year.

(First high school class.)

Latin. Grammar of Alvarez, elements, and easier rules of construction.—Reading: The easiest letters of Cicero, specially selected and separately printed. Selections from book I and II of Father Pontanus’ Progymnasmata.⁠[226]

Greek. Grammar of Father Gretser,⁠[227] or of Father Bayer.⁠[228] Correct reading and writing; accents and declensions.

Religion. Small Catechism of Peter Canisius,⁠[229] part I-II. Explanation of the Latin Gospel.

History. Rudimenta historica,⁠[230] vol. I., treating chiefly of the history of the people of Israel.

[122]

Lower Grammar. Second Year.

(Second high school class.)

Latin. Alvarez’ Grammar, book I, part II; repetition of first year’s matter; the irregular verb; first part of syntax.—Reading: Select letters of Cicero. Selections from Pontanus’ Progymnasmata.

Greek. Grammar: repetition of declensions; comparison of adjectives; pronouns and auxiliary verbs.

Religion. Catechism of Canisius, part I-III. Explanation of Latin Gospel.

History. Rudimenta historica, vol. II: The four monarchies (Ancient history).

Middle Grammar.

(Third high school class.)

Latin. Grammar: The whole of syntax; repetition of irregular verbs.—Reading: chiefly Cicero’s Epistulae ad Familiares, some parts of the Progymnasmata. The reading of poetical works which is customary in other Jesuit colleges in this class, is not sanctioned in this province.

Greek. Grammar: the verb completed.—As regards reading it is left to the judgment of the Prefect of Studies to prescribe the study of the Greek Catechism or Cebes’ Tablet. At all events the pupils should practise the reading of these books from time to time and give an account of their reading.

Religion. Catechism of Canisius and Latin Gospel.

History. Rudimenta historica, vol. III: The Christian Emperors of Rome (Medieval history).

Upper Grammar.

(Fourth high school class.)

Latin. Grammar: the whole of syntax (repeated), rules of construction; rules of prosody.—Reading: Above all, the Letters of Cicero to Atticus and his [123]brother Quintus; De Amicitia, De Senectute, etc. Selections from the Progymnasmata, books II and III.—Selections from Catullus, Tibullus, Propertius; Ovid; Virgil; fourth book of the Georgics; Aeneid, books V and VII.

Greek. First book of Gretser’s grammar, except the dialects.—Reading: Chrysostom, Aesop, Agapetus, etc.

Religion. Catechism of Canisius. Greek Gospel.

History. Rudimenta historica, vol. IV: The States of the World (Modern history).

Humanities. (Freshman.)

Latin. Rules of rhetoric from a brief compendium; rules of style, tropes, figures, etc.—Reading: Cicero’s ethical works; Caesar, Livy, Curtius, Sallust, etc., or easier orations of Cicero: Pro Lege Manilla, Pro Archia, Pro Marcello, etc. Virgil; select odes of Horace, etc.

Greek. The whole of syntax. The teacher should see that the pupils acquire a fair understanding of the authors, and that they are able to write an easier Greek composition. The authors are orations of Isocrates, or of Chrysostom and Basil; also letters of Plato and Synesius, selections from Plutarch, poems of Phocylides, Theognis, etc.

Religion. Catechism of Canisius; the Greek Gospel.

History. Rudimenta historica, vol. V: Geography and heraldics.

Rhetoric. (Sophomore.)

Precepts of rhetoric from the oratorical works of Cicero and Aristotle. The practice of the rules is chiefly based on Cicero, particularly his orations; also the historians may be used to some extent. The rules of poetry may be drawn from Aristotle’s Poetics. Of the poets only the best should be read: Virgil, Horace, etc.

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Greek. Repetition of syntax; prosody; the dialects, a further introduction into Greek literature. The standard authors are Demosthenes, Plato, Thucydides, Homer, Hesiod, Pindar, etc.; also Gregory Nazianzen, Basil, and Chrysostom may be read.

Other Latin and Greek authors which may be given into the hands of the pupils of the class of Rhetoric and of other classes, are enumerated by Juvencius.

Religion. Catechism of Canisius (larger one). On Saturday the Acts of the Apostles are read in Greek, or an oration of Chrysostom.

History. Rudimenta historica, vol. VI: Compendium of Church history.

The school hours were not too long; two hours and a half in the morning and the same in the afternoon; in the highest class (rhetoric), only two hours in the morning and the same in the afternoon; thus the students of the highest grade were wisely given more time for home work. There was ordinarily a full holiday every week, usually Wednesday or Thursday, “lest,” as the regulations of the Province of the Upper Rhine have it, “the pupils have to go to school four days in succession.”⁠[231] These holidays were frequently spent in a country house (villa), near the city. On the whole, study and recreation were so distributed that the complaints of “overburdening” the students could not reasonably be made in Jesuit schools.

Against the literary curriculum of the Society some serious charges have been made by modern critics. It has been said that nothing but the ancient languages was studied in Jesuit colleges, and that other branches, [125]as history, were entirely neglected, “Preoccupied before all else with purely formal studies, and exclusively devoted to the exercises which give a training in the use of elegant language, the Jesuits leave real and concrete studies in entire neglect. History is almost wholly banished from their programme. It is only with reference to the Greek and Latin texts that the teacher should make allusion to the matters of history, which are necessary for the understanding of the passage under examination. No account is made of modern history, nor of the history of France. ‘History’, says a Jesuit Father, ‘is the destruction of him who studies it’.”⁠[232] This last remark strikes us, and perhaps also other readers of M. Compayré’s work, as ridiculous. We ask: Who is this Jesuit Father that made such a silly statement? Is he one of the framers of the Ratio Studiorum, or one of its commentators, or a Superior of the Order? No; no one knows who he is—if ever a Jesuit has said such nonsense. But granted one has said it, must not every fair-minded reader ask: Can the Jesuit Order be said to hold and defend all the views which every individual Jesuit has uttered? If a Professor of Harvard or Yale University made a foolish remark, would it be fair to hold up the two universities to ridicule?

But let us examine the facts. History is taught in Jesuit schools and was taught in the Old Society, it matters little whether this and other branches were called accessories or side branches—they were called so because much less time was devoted to them than to the study of language and literature. It is true, the historical studies were not then cultivated, neither in [126]Protestant nor Catholic schools, to such extent as is done now. But history was never neglected in Jesuit colleges, and it gradually obtained a place of honor among the literary studies. This was evidently the case in France in the beginning of the eighteenth century. We refer the reader to various works which deal with this subject.⁠[233] In Germany we find in the Jesuit colleges, as early as 1622, special historical works assigned to various classes. In these compendia also “modern” history was treated.⁠[234] The text-books most in use in German Jesuit colleges during the eighteenth century, were the Rudimenta Historica of Father Dufrène,⁠[235] and the Introductio of Father Wagner.⁠[236] From Father Kropf’s work it is evident that, when he wrote this work in 1736, history was treated quite systematically, in a well graded course, in all the classes below philosophy. This is evident from the programme given above on pages 121–125. The same author gives also a method of teaching history.⁠[237]

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Nor was geography neglected. In the earlier Jesuit schools it was treated more fully only in the philosophical course, in connection with astronomy, or as “erudition” in the class of rhetoric. As early as 1677 a geographical text-book, written by Father König,⁠[238] was used in German colleges. We have proofs that geography was taught in the colleges in France, twelve years after the publication of the Ratio Studiorum. A few years ago a manuscript was found belonging to the old Jesuit college of Avignon, written in the year 1611 by Father Bonvalot. It contains, in ninety-four folio pages, a brief but complete course of geography. This course is divided into two parts: Europe, and the countries outside of Europe. Every country of Europe forms the subject of a special chapter, in which ancient and modern geography are combined. Special attention is paid to the customs of the peoples, the form of government, etc. This manuscript was used as the basis of lessons in geography, which were dictated to the pupils. It has been said that geography was not taught in Jesuit schools until long after this branch had been cultivated in the schools of the Oratory and the Petites-Écoles of Port-Royal. And yet Father Bonvalot wrote his course of geography the very year in which the Oratory was founded and more than thirty years before the opening of the Petites-Écoles. But Father Bonvalot was perhaps an exception. By no means. Documentary evidence is at hand to show that, before the middle of the seventeenth century, there was hardly a manuscript “course of rhetoric” in the colleges of Lyons, Tournon, Avignon, etc., which did not contain a course of geography.⁠[239] [128]The custom of dictating these lessons was continued until the handbooks of geography were published by the Jesuits Monet, Riccioli, Labbe, Briet, Saint-Juste, Buffier. Father Daniel, S. J., in an interesting essay of twenty-eight pages, has given many important details about the teaching of geography in Jesuit colleges of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.⁠[240]

Special attention was given to the geography of the country in which the colleges were situated, but great interest was also taken in the geographical discoveries in foreign countries. The Jesuits had, during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, better advantages for obtaining geographical information than any other body of men. The Jesuit missionaries scattered all over the world sent regular accounts of their journeys and observations to their brethren in Europe. That much valuable geographical and ethnological information was contained in these reports may be seen from the “Jesuit Relations”, seventy-three volumes of letters of Jesuits from New France, i. e. Canada and the Northern part of the United States.⁠[241] Several Jesuit missionaries have made most important contributions to the science of geography, not only by great discoveries as that of the Mississippi by Father Marquette, [129]but also by most valuable maps. Thus we read of Father Martini in Baron von Richthofen’s work on China: “Father Martini is the best geographer of all the missioners. By his great work, Novus Atlas Sinensis, the best and most complete description which we possess of China, he has become the Father of Chinese geography.” The first maps of North Mexico, Arizona and Lower California, were prepared by four German Jesuits, among them, the famous Father Kino (his German name was Kühn).⁠[242]

These few details taken from a mass of similar facts, show what interest the Jesuits took in geography, and even if we had no positive proof we would have to conjecture that they did not neglect its study in their schools. But the positive proofs abundantly show that another charge against the Jesuit colleges of former centuries is a sheer calumny.

Owing to the importance of Latin as the universal language of the educated world, less attention was devoted to the study of the mother-tongue. In this regard the schools of the Jesuits did not differ from those of the Protestants. However, at no time was the mother-tongue entirely neglected; and gradually it received more and more consideration. Thus, in France, rules for writing French verses appear in the dictated “courses of rhetoric” in 1663.⁠[243] About 1600, the Bohemian Jesuits asked and received permission to open a private “academy” for the study of the Czech language.⁠[244] As early as 1560 Father Jerome [130]Nadal had exhorted the Jesuits at Cologne, “to cultivate diligently the German language and to find out a method of teaching it; they should also select pupils and teachers for this branch.”⁠[245] In 1567 he gave the same order in Mentz. During the Thirty Years’ War, the German Jesuits Balde, Mair, Bidermann and Pexenfelder, planned the establishment of a society for the improvement of the German language; but the calamities of that horrible war, which reduced Germany to a state of utter misery, frustrated this whole plan. From about 1730 on, the German language was taught in the Jesuit schools according to fixed rules, and the pupils were diligently practised in writing prose compositions and poetry. Many valuable testimonies on this subject are given by Father Duhr.⁠[246] The fact that many Jesuits are to be found among the prominent writers in the different modern languages is another proof that the vernacular was not neglected, much less “proscribed” as M. Compayré says.⁠[247] One of the finest German writers of the seventeenth century was the Jesuit Spe. The sweetness, power and literary merits of his collection of exquisite poems, entitled Trutz-Nachtigall (Dare-Nightingale), and of his prose work Güldnes Tugendbuch (Virtue’s Golden Book) are admired by critics of the most different schools, Protestants as well as Catholics.⁠[248] Father [131]Denis, a Jesuit of the eighteenth century, was a most distinguished German writer, and has been called “the pioneer of German literature in Austria.” How could all these facts be explained if what Mr. Painter says were true: “The Jesuits were hostile to the mother-tongue; and distrusting the influence of its associations, endeavored to supplant it”?⁠[249]

After the pupil’s mind had been enriched with the treasures of Latin and Greek literature, and after his native talents had been “cultivated” or “stimulated”, as the Ratio very expressively designates it, the student entered on the study of philosophy.⁠[250] This course, if given completely, comprised three years. The Ratio of 1599 prescribed for the First Year: Introduction and Logics; Second Year: Physics, Cosmology and Astronomy; Third Year: Special Metaphysics, Psychology and Ethics. A course of mathematics runs parallel with philosophy.

In philosophy Aristotle was the standard author. Of course, those of his opinions which were contradictory to revealed truths were refuted.⁠[251] Special care is recommended in the correct explanation of the text of Aristotle. “No less pains are to be taken in the interpretation of the text than in the questions themselves. And the Professor should also convince the students that it is a very defective philosophy which neglects this study of the text.”⁠[252] The Professor of Philosophy [132]is also told “to speak respectfully of St. Thomas Aquinas and to follow him whenever possible.”⁠[253] The Ratio had to encounter many an attack for not following St. Thomas more rigorously. But the composers of the Ratio wisely admitted modifications, as St. Thomas evidently could not claim infallibility in all questions.

The philosophical course comprised not only philosophy properly so called, but also mathematics and natural sciences. This successive teaching of literary and scientific subjects secured concentration and unity in instruction, whereas in modern systems too many branches, which have no connection with each other, are taught in the same class so that the mind of the young untrained learner is bewildered. There is another consideration which may vindicate the educational wisdom of the Ratio Studiorum in assigning mathematics and sciences to a later stage in the curriculum. Distinguished teachers of mathematics have recently pointed out that the mathematical teaching in the lower and middle classes is frequently beyond the capacity of the students of those grades. Problems are proposed which, at that stage, can at best be treated only mechanically and superficially.⁠[254] Mathematics, says a prominent writer on this subject, makes very high demands on the mental powers of the pupils, in such a degree that only the mature age derives the full benefit from the study of this branch.⁠[255]

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In the philosophical course of the Jesuit colleges, mathematics was by no means slighted, or treated as a branch of small educational value. It will suffice to quote what an autograph treatise written by Father Clavius, the “Euclid of his Age,” has on the teaching of mathematics. “First, let a teacher of more than ordinary learning and authority be chosen to teach this branch; otherwise, as experience proves, the pupils cannot be attracted to the study of mathematics.... It is necessary that the professor have an inclination and a liking for teaching this science; he must not be distracted by other occupations, otherwise he will hardly be able to advance the students. In order that the Society may always have capable professors of this science, some men should be selected who are specially fitted for this task, and they should be trained in a private school (academia) in the science of mathematics.... I need not mention that without mathematics the teaching of natural philosophy is defective and imperfect.—In the second place it is necessary that the pupils understand that this science is useful and necessary for a correct understanding of philosophy, and, at the same time, complements and embellishes all other studies. Nay more, they should know that this science is so closely related to natural philosophy that, unless they help each other, neither can maintain its proper place and dignity. In order to accomplish this it will be necessary for the students of physics to study mathematics at the same time; this is a custom which has always been kept up in the schools of the Society. For if the mathematical sciences were taught at any other time, the students of philosophy would think, and not without some [134]reason, that they were not necessary for physics, and so very few would be inclined to study mathematics.” The writer then goes on to show the necessity of mathematics for the study of the movements of heavenly bodies, of their distances, of the oppositions and conjunctions of the comets; of the tides, the winds, the rainbow, and other physical phenomena. He also treats of various exercises by which the study of mathematics can best be advanced, such as lectures given by the students on mathematical and astronomical subjects.⁠[256]

We find that in mathematics, pure and applied, the courses of the Jesuit colleges were advanced to the foremost rank; in arithmetic and geometry we notice that, as early as 1667, a single public course, under the direction of the Jesuits at Caen, numbered four hundred students.⁠[257] The Order had among its members many distinguished mathematicians, some of whom will be mentioned in succeeding chapters.

The modern course of physics was, in those centuries, a thing of the future. But the physical sciences were taught as far as they were known; in the middle of the eighteenth century, we find physical cabinets in regular use, and experimental lectures given to the classes by the professor of physics.⁠[258]

These testimonies will suffice to show that the Jesuits, however much they valued the classical studies, were not so one-sided as to disregard or neglect [135]mathematics and natural sciences. What, then, should be said of Compayré’s statements: “The Jesuits leave real and concrete studies in entire neglect.... The sciences are involved in the same disdain as history. Scientific studies are entirely proscribed in the lower classes.”⁠[259] Indeed, in the Old Society, the sciences were not taught in the five lower classes; there the Jesuits concentrated the efforts of the pupils on the languages; but in the three highest classes they applied the students with the same energy to the study of mathematics, sciences and philosophy.

Having thus far analyzed the Ratio Studiorum, we may be allowed to quote the judgment of Mr. Quick on the Ratio Studiorum: “The Jesuit system stands out in the history of education as a remarkable instance of a school system elaborately thought out and worked as a whole. In it the individual schoolmaster withered (sic!), but the system grew, and was, and I may say is, a mighty organism. The single Jesuit teacher might not be the superior of the average teacher in good Protestant schools, but by their unity of action the Jesuits triumphed over their rivals as easily as a regiment of soldiers scatters a mob.”⁠[260] This system “points out a perfectly attainable goal, and carefully defines the road by which that goal is to be approached. For each class was prescribed not only the work to be done, but also the end to be kept in view. Thus method reigned throughout—perhaps not the best method, as the object to be attained was assuredly not the highest object (sic!), but the method such as it was, was applied with undeviating exactness. In this particular [136]the Jesuit schools contrasted strongly with their rivals of old, as indeed with the ordinary school of the present day.”⁠[261]

If we ask to which sources the Ratio Studiorum is to be referred, we must confess that an adequate answer is not easy. There are many little brooks which by their conflux form that mighty river. Ignatius and his companions had been trained in scholastic philosophy. The Constitutions and the Ratio Studiorum adapted this philosophic system, modified, however, and perfected by the teachers and writers of the Order. Hence the central position of Aristotle in philosophy, and St. Thomas Aquinas in theology.⁠[262]

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The literary course was an adaptation of the humanistic schools as they existed shortly before the outbreak of the Reformation. It is especially Paris and the Netherlands which we have to consider as the chief sources of much that is contained in the Ratio. We heard that the great University of Paris was the Alma Mater of St. Ignatius and his first companions. Great must have been the influence of this seat of learning on the formation of the educational system of the Jesuits. Bartoli, one of the historians of the Society, goes so far as to say: “Spain gave the Society a father in St. Ignatius, France a mother in the University of Paris.” From this University Ignatius probably adopted the division of his system of studies into the three parts: Languages, Arts or Philosophy, Theology. In languages again the Constitutions, as well as the Paris University, distinguished three parts: Grammar, Humanities, Rhetoric. The school exercises, especially the disputations in philosophy, were fashioned after those of Paris. Father Polanco, secretary of the Society, himself a student of Paris, writes about the colleges of Messina and Vienna, that “exercises (disputations) were added to the lectures after the model of those of Paris (more parisiensi).”⁠[263]

Ignatius himself had recommended Paris as “the [138]University where one gains more profit in a few years than in some others in many.”⁠[264] In 1553 he writes to Cardinal Morone that in the Collegium Germanicum in Rome, the exercises in the Artes Liberales were the same as in Paris, Louvain, and other celebrated Universities.⁠[265] Louvain was called by him a “most flourishing University,” and he wishes to establish a college there.⁠[266] It was pointed out before, that the “plans of study” of Nadal and Ledesma exerted a great influence on the Ratio of 1599. Both these men had for many years studied at Paris, Ledesma also in Louvain.

This leads us to another source of the educational system of the Jesuits: the humanistic schools of the Netherlands. We spoke of Louvain in chapter II. Ignatius had visited the Netherlands in 1529 and 1530, and a considerable number of Jesuits in the first decades of the Society came from that country. Ribadeneira enumerates 53 who became known as writers before 1600. Two of the men who were in the Commissions for drawing up the Ratio, Francis Coster and Peter Busaeus, were from the Netherlands. Others were influential as founders of colleges, for instance, Peter Canisius of Nymwegen; or as heads of famous institutions, like Leonard Kessel of Louvain, Rector of the College of Cologne.

As was said before, during his sojourn at Paris, Ignatius may have come into contact with the Brethren of the Common Life.⁠[267] These Brethren conducted [139]famous schools all over the Netherlands; their college in Liège was perhaps the most flourishing school in Europe at the beginning of the Reformation. Many points conspicuous in the Ratio Studiorum, as well as in Sturm’s system, were to be found in this college. Latin was the principal branch. It was taught very methodically, and the imitation of authors was insisted on. The course had eight classes; the lower were grammar classes; the fifth—and part of the sixth—was Rhetoric, the seventh and eighth taught Aristotelian philosophy and mathematics. Contests between the pupils (concertationes) were frequent, especially solemn ones at the distribution of prizes at the end of the scholastic year. On account of the great number of pupils, the classes were divided into decuriae, divisions of ten pupils each. At the head of each decuria was a decurio, to whom his ten subjects had to recite their lessons, etc.⁠[268] All these customs are found in the Ratio Studiorum.

A result of humanistic influences was also the domineering position which Cicero held in the classical course. To the humanists Cicero had been the author, whose style was considered by many with almost superstitious reverence.

Humanism in the Netherlands had been much more conservative than in Italy and Germany. Owing to the influence of the Brethren of the Common Life, it had kept more faithfully the Christian views of the earlier humanists. It certainly was this Christian humanism which appealed to the religious mind of Ignatius; he always suspected the writings of the younger humanists. Very early, shortly after his [140]conversion, the Christian Knight of Erasmus had fallen into his hands.⁠[269] He conceived for this book, as well as for the Colloquies and similar works of the author, an aversion in which time only confirmed him. Not that he was insensible to the author’s grace of style (for it is said he made extracts from the Christian Knight in order to familiarize himself with the niceties of the Latin tongue), nor that he found heterodox propositions in it; but he felt repulsed by the color in which things and ideas were presented, by the malicious satire, lack of feeling, vanity, and hollow scepticism which were prominent on every page. Undoubtedly even if Luther had not started his Reformation, Ignatius would have become a leader in a reform opposed to the radical school of humanists, to whose disastrous influence the immorality of the time and the worldliness of many ecclesiastics is, to a great extent, to be ascribed.

The dependence of the Ratio on the University of Paris and the humanistic schools of the Netherlands refutes also the supposition that the Jesuits have drawn from Sturm’s “Plan of Studies”. Sturm himself had studied, from 1521–1523, in the school of the Brethren in Liège, from 1524–1529 at Louvain in the famous Collegium Trilingue; from 1530–1537 he was student and teacher in Paris. A German Protestant⁠[270] says: “The organization of the college of Liège made such an impression on young Sturm that he adopted it even in some minute details as the model for his school in Strasburg.”⁠[271] Similarly speaks Professor Ziegler.⁠[272] [141]Thus we see that Sturm had drawn his educational ideas from the very same schools in which many of the first Jesuits had been educated, and which were considered by them as models. Is it not much more probable that the Jesuits fashioned their own system after these schools, than after that of Sturm in Strasburg? Assertions, like that of Dr. Russell, that “the Society of Jesus incorporated so many of his [Sturm’s] methods into the new Catholic schools,”⁠[273] are highly improbable, and certainly not substantiated by any positive proof. What was similar in both systems, was to be found in the humanistic schools of the Netherlands.⁠[274]

On equally feeble grounds rests another hypothesis advanced in recent years, namely that “what is really good in the Jesuit system can be traced almost in detail to Luiz Vives.”⁠[275] In proof of this statement the fact is mentioned that Ignatius met Vives in Bruges. The Spaniard Vives was one of the most brilliant humanists of the time, and a distinguished writer on pedagogy. He, too, had studied at Paris (1509–1512), and spent a great part of his life in the Netherlands. The argument used against the dependence on Sturm, holds good in this case as well. It is asserted that Ignatius had borrowed from Vives, among other good things, “the physical care bestowed upon the young, [142]the infrequency of punishment, the systematic teaching of Latin in a series of classes, the study of practical science, of history and geography, in conjunction with the explanation of the texts, the use of note books, emulation, and the like.” Now many of these points were not inventions of Vives, but had been already mentioned by Quintilian.⁠[276]

The words of a German writer on pedagogy are well worth being quoted on this point: “Strange attempts have recently been made to show that the Jesuit pedagogy which, through its unquestionably grand results, has become famous, is to be traced back to Vives. The fact that Vives met the founder of the Society once, for a very short time, must serve as a proof. But if one examines the educational principles which the Jesuits are supposed to have taken from Vives: infrequency of punishment, physical care of the pupils, etc., it becomes immediately evident that these are principles which all reasonable educators have followed at all times. We should be forced to make the absurd assumption that, until the time of Vives, Catholics never in the past had had sound pedagogical views, if we wished to trace back these self-evident principles to Vives.”⁠[277]

It really looks as though some writers are determined at least to deny all originality to the Ratio Studiorum, if they are compelled to admit that it achieved great results. We frankly and willingly admit that the authors of the Ratio borrowed much [143]from existing systems, it matters little whence and how much. We must, however, claim that their experience from 1540–1599, and their painstaking efforts in drawing up the Ratio, had a considerable share in the results that attended their system.⁠[278] Above all, what is most characteristic in the Jesuit system, the wonderful unity and organization, was not borrowed from any other system, but is the work of the framers of the Constitutions and of the Ratio Studiorum.

Within fifty years from the solemn approbation of the Society of Jesus, the Order had spread all over the world, from Europe to the Indies, from China and Japan in the East, to Mexico and Brazil in the West. Wherever the Church was not actually persecuted, as in England, there sprang up educational institutions. Shortly after the death of the fifth General, Father Aquaviva, in 1615, the Society possessed three hundred and seventy-three colleges; in 1706 the number of collegiate and university establishments was seven hundred and sixty-nine, and in 1756, shortly before the suppression, the number was seven hundred and twenty-eight.⁠[279] In 1584 the classes of the Roman College were attended by two thousand, one hundred and eight students. At Rouen, in France, there were regularly two thousand. Throughout the seventeenth century the numbers at the College of Louis-le-Grand, in Paris, varied between eighteen hundred and three thousand. In 1627, the one Province of Paris had in its fourteen colleges 13,195 students, which would give an average of nearly one thousand to each college. In the same year Rouen had 1,968, Rennes 1,485, Amiens 1,430. In 1675 there were in Louis-le-Grand [145]3,000, in Rennes 2,500, in Toulouse 2,000.⁠[280] Cologne began its roll in 1558 with almost 800 students; Dillingen in Bavaria had 760 in 1607. At Utrecht in Holland there were 1000; at Antwerp and Brussels each 600 scholars. Münster in 1625 had 1300, Munich had 900 in 1602. The absolute average is not known, three hundred seems, however, the very lowest. This would give to the seven hundred and more institutions a sum total of two hundred and ten thousand students, all trained under one system. That thus the Jesuits exercised a great influence on the minds of men, is undeniable. The question is only, was their influence for good or evil? Was their teaching a benefit to the individuals, and more so, was it advantageous to the communities? Was their method considered as productive of good results? Let us listen to contemporaneous writers in high positions, to men known for their intellectual achievements, to men who, owing to their religious tenets, cannot be suspected of partiality to the Jesuits.

The testimony of Lord Bacon, the English philosopher and statesman, is well known: “Of the Jesuit colleges, although in regard of their superstition I may say, ‘Quo meliores eo deteriores,’ yet in regard of this and some other points of learning and moral matters, I may say, as Agesilaus said to his enemy Pharnabaces, ‘Talis cum sis, utinam noster esses’.”⁠[281] Our American historian Bancroft does not hesitate to say of the Jesuits: “Their colleges became the best schools in the world.”⁠[282] And Ranke writes: “It was [146]found that young people gained more with them in six months than with other teachers in two years. Even Protestants removed their children from distant gymnasia to confide them to the care of the Jesuits.”⁠[283]—This last fact was more than once lamented by Protestants.

In 1625 a report of the Gymnasium in Brieg, Silesia, complains bitterly of the lamentable condition of this school. This condition is ascribed chiefly to the theological wranglings of the Lutherans and the Reformed, and to the inability of the teachers, who frequently were engaged in trades, or as inn-keepers, or acted as lawyers, and thus neglected their duties as teachers. The report then adds: “If the teachers knew how to preserve the confidence of the parents, then an interest in the school would soon be manifested by those who now prefer to send their children to the Jesuits. For these Jesuits know better how to treat boys according to their nature, and to keep alive a zeal for studies.”⁠[284]

Also in the Protestant Margravate of Brandenburg the condition of the schools induced parents, noblemen, state officials, and citizens, to send their sons to foreign Jesuit colleges. But then the preachers started a violent campaign against this practice, although they had to admit that the Jesuit pupils were better trained than those educated in the Margravate. Consequently, the Elector John George issued severe decrees against sending children to foreign schools (1564 and 1572).⁠[285] [147]Professors and preachers in Lemgo, Danzig, Königsberg, and in other cities, denounced the “godless practice of Protestants who sacrificed their children to the monstrous Moloch of Jesuit schools.”⁠[286]

Wilhelm Roding, Professor in Heidelberg, in a book: Against the impious schools of the Jesuits, dedicated to Frederick III., Elector of the Palatinate, gives expression to the following complaint: “Very many who want to be counted as Christians send their children to the schools of the Jesuits. This is a most dangerous thing, as the Jesuits are excellent and subtle philosophers, above everything intent on applying all their learning to the education of youth. They are the finest and most dexterous of teachers, and know how to accommodate themselves to the natural gifts of every pupil.” Another Protestant, Andrew Dudith of Breslau, wrote: “I am not surprised if I hear that one goes to the Jesuits. They possess varied learning, teach, preach, write, dispute, instruct youth without taking money, and all this they do with indefatigable zeal; moreover, they are distinguished for moral integrity, and modest behaviour.”⁠[287] A Protestant preacher attributed the popularity of the Jesuit schools to magical practices of these wicked men: “These Jesuits have diabolical practices; they anoint their pupils with secret salves of the devil, by which they so attract and attach the children to themselves that they can only with difficulty be separated from these wizards, and always long to go back to them. Therefore, the Jesuits ought not only to be expelled but to be [148]burnt, otherwise they can never be gotten rid of.” Of the Hildesheim Jesuits it was said that they used some secret charms to hasten the progress of their pupils.⁠[288]

A most remarkable testimony to the ability of the Jesuits as teachers was rendered by the words and actions of two non-Catholic rulers, at the time of the suppression of the Society in 1773, namely by King Frederick of Prussia and Empress Catharine of Russia; we shall revert to their testimony further on in this chapter.

In a history of the Jesuit colleges mention must be made of the literary and scientific works published by Jesuits. The colleges of the Society were as many colonies of writers. It is impossible to give here an adequate description of this work of the Society; the Bibliography of the Order comprises nine folio volumes, and contains the names of thirteen thousand Jesuit authors—many, if not most of them, professors—who published works on almost every branch of learning.⁠[289] Even Dr. Huber admires the literary and scientific activity of the Order: “More than three hundred Jesuits have written grammars on living and dead languages, and more than ninety-five languages have been taught by members of the Order. In mathematics and natural sciences there are among them first class scientists. Many astronomical observatories were erected by them, and directed with great success.”⁠[290] Still more striking is the testimony of the [149]bitterest enemy of the Jesuits, d’Alembert. He writes: “Let us add—for we must be just—that no religious society whatever can boast of so many members distinguished in science and literature. The Jesuits have successfully cultivated eloquence, history, archaeology, geometry, and literature. There is scarcely a class of writers in which they have no representatives of the first rank; they have even good French writers, a distinction of which no other religious order can boast.”⁠[291]

Some of the linguistic works of the Jesuits are of the greatest importance and even celebrity in the history of the science of language. The first, not in time but in importance, is that of the Spanish Jesuit Hervas. Professor Max Müller of Oxford speaks of this Jesuit in the highest terms, and says that he wishes to point out his real merits, which other historians have overlooked.⁠[292] While working among the polyglottous tribes of South America, the attention of Father Hervas was drawn to a systematic study of languages. After the expulsion of the Jesuits from South America in 1767, he lived in Rome amidst the numerous Jesuit missionaries who assisted him greatly in his researches.

His works are of a most comprehensive character; the most important is his Catalogue of Languages, in six volumes. “If we compare the work of Hervas with a similar work which excited much attention towards the end of the last century, and is even now more widely known than Hervas’—I mean Court de [150]Gebelin’s Monde primitif—we shall see at once how far superior the Spanish Jesuit is to the French philosopher. Gebelin treats Persian, Armenian, Malay, and Coptic as dialects of Hebrew; he speaks of Bask as a dialect of Celtic, and he tries to discover Hebrew, Greek, English, and French words in the idioms of America. Hervas, on the contrary, though embracing in his catalogue five times the number of languages that were known to Gebelin, is most careful not to allow himself to be carried away by theories not warranted by the evidence before him. It is easy now to point out mistakes and inaccuracies in Hervas, but I think that those who have blamed him most are those who ought most to have acknowledged their obligations to him. To have collected specimens and notices of more than three hundred languages, is no small matter. But Hervas did more. He himself composed grammars of more than forty languages. He was one of the first to point out that the true affinity of languages must be determined chiefly by grammatical evidence, not by mere similarity of words. He proved, by a comparative list of declensions and conjugations, that Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, Arabic, Ethiopie, and Aramaic are all but dialects of one original language, and constitute one family of speech, the Semitic. He scouted the idea of deriving all languages of mankind from Hebrew. He had perceived clear traces of affinity between Chinese and Indo-Chinese dialects; also between Hungarian, Lapponian, and Finnish, three dialects now classed as members of the Turanian family. He had proved that Bask was not, as was commonly supposed, a Celtic dialect, but an independent language.... Nay, one of the most brilliant discoveries [151]in the history of the science of language, the establishment of the Malay and Polynesian family of speech ... was made by Hervas long before it was-worked out, and announced to the world by Humboldt.”⁠[293]

Great are also the merits of Jesuits in regard to the study of Sanskrit. “The first European Sanskrit scholar was the Jesuit Robert de Nobili,”⁠[294] a nephew of the famous Cardinal Robert Bellarmine. According to the words of Max Müller, he must have been far advanced in the knowledge of the sacred language and literature of the Brahmans.⁠[295] The first Sanskrit grammar written by a European is commonly said to be that of the German Jesuit Hanxleden († 1732). However, this honor belongs to another German Jesuit, Heinrich Roth († 1668), who wrote a Sanskrit grammar almost a century before Hanxleden.⁠[296] Father Du Pons, in 1740, published a comprehensive and, in general, a very accurate description of the various branches of Sanskrit literature.⁠[297] Of Father Coeurdoux Max Müller writes that he anticipated the most important results of comparative philology by at least fifty years; at the same time the Oxford Professor expresses his astonishment that the work of this humble missionary has attracted so little attention, and only very lately received the credit that belongs to it.⁠[298] Father Calmette wrote a poetical work in excellent [152]Sanskrit, the Ezour Veda, which gave rise to an interesting literary discussion. Voltaire declared it to be four centuries older than Alexander the Great, and pronounced it the most precious gift which the West had received from the East. On account of the Christian ideas contained in the poem, the atheistic philosophers of France thought they had found in it a most effective weapon for attacking Christianity. Unfortunately for these philosophers, an English traveler discovered Father Calmette’s manuscript in Pondichery.⁠[299]

Various important works on the dialects of India were written by Jesuits, among others several grammars and dictionaries of the Tamil language, for which the first types were made by the Spanish lay brother Gonsalves. The works written in the Tamil language by Father Beschi († 1740) have received the most flattering criticism by modern Protestant writers. The Anglican Bishop Caldwell, in his Comparative Grammar of the Dravidian Languages (London 1875), styles them the best productions in modern Tamil, and other scholars, as Babington, Hunter, Pope, and Benfey, concur in this eulogy.⁠[300] Beschi’s grammar and dictionary are praised as masterpieces. Father Stephens’ grammar of the Konkani language is called an admirable achievement.⁠[301] It was republished as late as 1857, and was used extensively in the nineteenth century.

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Not less noteworthy were the labors of the Jesuits in the Chinese language. In the fourth International Congress of Orientalists, Father Matteo Ricci was called “the first Sinologue”.⁠[302] When not long ago the Protestant missionaries in Shanghai published an edition of Euclid, they took as the basis of their work the translation made by Ricci. His works were written in the best Chinese, and, according to the eminent Orientalist Rémusat, were even in the nineteenth century highly esteemed by Chinese scholars, for their elegance of diction and purity of language.⁠[303] Father Prémare († 1736) is called by Morrison the most thorough and profound grammarian of the Chinese language. And Rémusat asserts that the two Jesuits Prémare and Gaubil have not been surpassed or equalled by any European in sound and comprehensive knowledge of Chinese, and that both belong to the number of great literary luminaries that form the pride of France.⁠[304] Prémare’s most important work, the Notitia Linguae Sinicae, was published in 1831, by the Protestant Collegium Anglo-Sinicum in Malakka. Rémusat styles this work the best ever produced by a European in the field of Chinese grammar.⁠[305] And a German scholar writes: “We possess no work on Chinese grammar which, in comprehensive and judicious treatment of the subject, can be compared to that of Prémare’s Notitia. Some may acquire a better understanding of the Chinese language than the French Father, but it may be said that not easily will [154]any European so fully and so thoroughly master the spirit and taste of the Chinese language; nor will there soon be found an equally capable teacher of Chinese rhetoric. In this I recognize the imperishable value of this work, a value which in some quarters is recognized more in deeds than in words.”⁠[306] By the last remark the author seems to imply what another German writer has stated more explicitly, namely, that “several of the best works of these Jesuits have been published by another firm,”⁠[307] i. e., they have been largely used by other writers without receiving the credit due to them. Other distinguished Chinese scholars were the Fathers Noel, Gerbillon, Parrenin, de Maillac, and Amyot.⁠[308]

Great praise has also been bestowed on works of Jesuit authors on the languages of Japan, South America, etc.⁠[309] Thus we read in the Narrative and Critical History of America, by Justin Winsor: “The most voluminous work on the language of the Incas has for its author the Jesuit Diego Gonzales Holguin.... He resided for several years in the Jesuit College at Juli, near the banks of Lake Titicaca, where the Fathers had established a printing-press, and here he studied the Quichua language.... He died as Rector of the College at Asuncion. His Quichua dictionary was published at Lima in 1586, and a second edition appeared in 1607, the same year in which the grammar [155]first saw the light. The Quichua grammar of Holguin is the most complete and elaborate that has been written, and his dictionary is also the best.”⁠[310]—Similar commendations have been bestowed on the linguistic works of the Fathers Rubio, de Acosta, Barzena, Bertonio, Bayer, Febres (whose grammar and dictionary of the Auracanian dialect were republished for practical use in 1882 and 1884 at Buenos Ayres and Rio de Janeiro), Anchieta, Figueira, Ruiz, and others. Ruiz’ grammar and dictionary of Guarani, in the words of Mulhall, are a lasting monument to his study and learning.⁠[311] Many most valuable books and manuscripts of the Jesuits were ruthlessly destroyed, when the Fathers were expelled from their colleges and missions in South America. Protestant writers, as Bach and Kriegk, lament that this vandalism of the enemies of the Society has destroyed for ever most valuable literary treasures.

In the field of mathematics and natural sciences several Jesuit professors have attained to high distinction. We mention the names of a few. Clavius († 1610), who was called the “Euclid of his age”, was the leading man in the reformation of the calendar under Pope Gregory XIII. Professor Cajori says with reference to this work: “The Gregorian calendar met with a great deal of opposition both among scientists and among Protestants. Clavius, who ranked high as a geometer, met the objections of the former most ably and effectively; the prejudices of the latter passed [156]away with time.”⁠[312] One of his pupils was Gregory of Saint-Vincent († 1667), whom Leibnitz places on an equality with Descartes as a geometrician. “Although a circle-squarer, he is worthy of mention for the numerous theorems of interest which he discovered in his search after the impossible, and Montucla ingeniously remarks that no one ever squared the circle with so much ability, or (except for his principal object) with so much success.”⁠[313]

Another disciple of Clavius was Matthew Ricci († 1610), the illustrious mathematician and apostle of China, who published also a vast number of valuable observations on the geography and history of China. Father Schall of Cologne († 1669), a prominent mathematician and astronomer, was appointed director of the “Mathematical Tribunal” in Pekin, and revised the Chinese calendar.

Within the last few years the attention of mathematicians has been drawn to the Jesuit Father Saccheri, Professor of mathematics at Pavia. Non-Euclidean mathematics is now recognized as an important branch of mathematics. The beginnings of this system have sometimes been ascribed to Gauss, the “Nestor of German mathematicians”. But recent research has proved that as early as 1733 Father Saccheri had published a book which gives a complete system of Non-Euclidean geometry. Beltrami, in 1889, and Staeckel and Engel in 1895, pointed out the great importance of the work of Saccheri.⁠[314]

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Father Grimaldi († 1663), professor of mathematics in the College at Bologna, gave an accurate description of the moon spots, discovered the diffraction of light, and, in his work Physico-Mathesis de Lumine, Coloribus et Iride, advanced the first attempt of a theory of undulation. This work was the basis of Newton’s theory of light.⁠[315] Father Scheiner († 1650) was one of the first observers of the sun spots; it is disputed whether he or Galileo discovered them first. Scheiner also invented the pantograph, and, in his work Oculus, hoc est Fundamentum Opticum, laid down opinions of lasting value (especially on the accommodation of the eye).⁠[316]

More famous than these was Athanasius Kircher († 1680), a man of most extensive and varied learning who wrote on mathematics, physics, history, philology, and archaeology. He is the inventor of the magic lantern and other scientific instruments. He was the first who successfully studied the Coptic language and deciphered the Egyptian hieroglyphics. The very variety and universality of his learning was naturally a danger, to which he not unfrequently succumbed. He often betrays a lack of critical spirit, [158]and proposes phantastic theories. Still, in spite of these defects, his works are of the greatest importance, and his Lingua Aegyptiaca Restituta has been styled indispensable even at the present day for the study of the Egyptian language.⁠[317] Father Kircher founded also the famous Museo Kircheriano in the Roman College, and if he had done nothing else, this alone would secure him a place of honor in the world of science. The services rendered to mathematics, astronomy, physics, and geography, by the Jesuits in China, especially by Ricci, Schall, Verbiest, Koegler, Hallerstein, Herdtrich, Gaubil, have been generously acknowledged by Lalande, Montucla, and more recently by the Protestant scholars Mädler,⁠[318] and Baron von Richthofen.⁠[319] On the astronomical observatories of the Jesuits a few words will be said when we come to speak of the suppression of the Order.

Of the geographical works of the Jesuits in China Baron von Richthofen writes: “If the Jesuits had not applied their scientifically trained minds to practical subjects, we would not possess the great cartographic work on China, and that country would still be a terra incognita for us, and the time would be very far off in which it would become possible to obtain as much as that picture of China which the Jesuits have given us, and which is now well known to everybody.... It is the most important cartographic work ever executed in so short a time, the grandest scientific achievement of the most brilliant period of Catholic missions in China.” The same author says of the [159]Tyrolese Father Martini († 1661): “He is the best geographer of all the missionaries, and by his great work, the Novus Atlas Sinensis, the best and most complete description which we possess of China, he has become the ‘Father of Chinese geography.’” Father Du Halde gave an accurate description of Mongolia, and his great work on China (1735) is still one of the most important sources available on the geography, history, religion, industry, political organization, customs, etc., of that country.⁠[320] Some of the geographical labors of the Jesuits in America have been mentioned previously.⁠[321] Justin Winsor states that the Historia Natural y Moral de las Indias of Father de Acosta, “the Pliny of the New World,” is much relied on as an authority by Robertson, and quoted 19 times by Prescott in his Conquest of Peru, thus taking the fourth place as an authority with regard to that work.⁠[322]

All these works are as many testimonies to the efficiency and the practical character of the system under which these men had been trained; most of them had entered the Society at a very early age. How could they have produced such works, if what Compayré says, were true, that the Society devotes itself exclusively to “purely formal studies, to exercises which give a training in the use of elegant language, [160]and leaves real and concrete studies in entire neglect”?⁠[323]

In history the Society must yield the palm to the Order of St. Benedict, particularly to the celebrated Congregation of St. Maur. Still, some Jesuits produced works of lasting value. We mention first the De Doctrina Temporum by Father Petavius († 1652), of which a great authority on chronology said that it was superior to the work of Scaliger, and an invaluable mine of information for later chronologists.⁠[324] Father Labbe († 1667) began the Collection of the Councils which is much used up to the present day. A more complete Collection of the Councils, in fact the most complete that exists, was published by Father Hardouin († 1729). He wrote also a most valuable work on numismatics, in which six hundred ancient coins were, for the first time, described and with wonderful sagacity used for solving intricate historical problems. In other historical and critical works he proceeded with an almost incredible boldness and arbitrariness, denying the authenticity of a great number of the works of the classical writers and the Fathers of the Church. In many questions of criticism he was far in advance of his age, but some of his hyper-critical and eccentric hypotheses have, to a great extent, obscured his reputation.⁠[325] The greatest historical work of the [161]Jesuits is the collection of documents called Acta Sanctorum, or the Bollandists, so named after the first editor, Father Bolland († 1668). The most distinguished of the Bollandist writers was Father Papenbroeck († 1714). Fifty-three folio volumes appeared before the suppression of the Society. This gigantic collection is a work of prime importance for the history of the whole Christian era, a monumentum aere perennius. Leibnitz said of it: “If the Jesuits had produced nothing but this work, they would have deserved to be brought into existence, and would have just claims upon the good wishes and esteem of the whole world.”⁠[326]

In literature we find the names of several distinguished Jesuits. The odes of Matthew Sarbiewski († 1640) were praised as successful rivals of the best lyrics of the ancients; Hugo Grotius even preferred them to the odes of Horace,⁠[327] although we must call this an exaggerated estimate. Sarbiewski was surpassed by James Balde († 1668), who for many years taught rhetoric in Ingolstadt and Munich, and was styled not only the “Modern Quintilian”, but also the “Horace of Germany”. His Latin poems manifest a variety, beauty, warmth of feeling, and glowing patriotism unrivalled in that period. He was, however, not altogether free from the mannerisms of his age. Protestant critics, as Goethe and others, have admired the productions of this highly gifted poet, and Herder,⁠[328] [162]who translated a selection of Balde’s lyrics into classical German, speaks of him in enthusiastic terms.⁠[329]

The classical German writings of Denis and Spe have been mentioned previously. We may add here the name of Father Robert Southwell, who was executed for his faith in 1595. Saintsbury says of him that he belonged to a distinguished family, was stolen by a gipsy in youth, but was recovered; “a much worse misfortune befell him in being sent for education not to Oxford or Cambridge but to Douay, where he fell into the hands of the Jesuits, and joined their order.”⁠[330] Yet notwithstanding this terrible misfortune, he must have greatly profited from this education; for the same critic admits that Southwell produced not inconsiderable work both in prose and poetry; that his works possess genuine poetic worth; that his religious fervor is of the simplest and most genuine kind, and that his poems are a natural and unforced expression of it.

Father Perpinian wrote most eloquent Latin discourses, which, as the philologian Ruhnken affirms, compare favorably with those of Muretus, the greatest Neo-Latinist. The philological works of Pontanus, Vernulaeus, La Cerda (the famous commentator of the works of Virgil), and others, were held in high repute. Sacchini, Jouvancy, Perpinian, Possevin, [163]Bonifacio, and Kropf wrote valuable treatises on education.⁠[331]

We have purposely abstained from mentioning any writer on theology or scholastic philosophy. For it is admitted on all sides that the Society produced a great number of most distinguished writers in scholastic philosophy and in the various branches of theology: dogmatics, apologetics, exegesis, moral theology, etc.

Many good schoolbooks were written by Jesuits.⁠[332] The number of grammars, readers, books on style, on poetics, rhetoric, editions of classics, etc., is very great. De la Cerda published one of the best editions of Virgil. The editions of La Rue (Ruaeus) were famous; [164]of course, they are not what we now consider standard works on the classics. Father Tursellini’s book De Particulis Linguae Latinae appeared in fifty editions; the last edition was prepared by Professor Hand, the philologist of Jena. The celebrated Gottfried Hermann, of Leipsic, published a revised edition of Father Viger’s De Idiotismis Linguae Graecae.⁠[333] This is an honor which not many old books have received at the hand of German scholars, who boast of such achievements in the field of philology. It is needless to add that the two works of the Jesuit philologians thus singled out must be of considerable excellence.

One department of the activity of the Order deserves a more detailed treatment: the Jesuit school-drama.⁠[334] At present there is no need of defending the usefulness of dramatic performances, given by students, provided the subject and the whole tone of the play are morally sound and elevating. Still, there were times, when the Jesuits had to defend their practice, especially against the rigorists of Port Royal, the Jansenists in general, and in the eighteenth century against several governments, which were swayed by a prosaic bureaucratic spirit of utilitarianism.⁠[335] The principles according to which the drama in Jesuit schools was to be conducted are laid down by Jouvancy in his Ratio Docendi, and by Father Masen; a book on the technique [165]of the drama was composed by Father Lang.⁠[336] The Institute of the Society had taken precautions that the school dramas should neither interfere with the regular work, nor do the least harm to the morals of the pupils. The fifty-eighth rule of the Provincial reads: “He shall only rarely allow the performance of comedies and tragedies; they must be becoming⁠[337] and written in Latin.” The vast majority of plays were consequently given in Latin,—the language, in those times, understood by every man of culture. Many Protestant educators and preachers were altogether opposed to dramas in the vernacular “which, as they said, were good enough for the common people and apprentices, but unbecoming students.” In Jesuit colleges plays were occasionally, and after 1700 more frequently, performed in the vernacular.⁠[338] Of Latin plays a programme and synopsis in the vernacular was, at least in Germany, distributed amongst those who did not know Latin.

In many Protestant schools of this period, for instance in the celebrated schools of Sturm and Rollenhagen, and also in a few Catholic schools, the comedies of Plautus and Terence were exhibited, not, however, without strong opposition of earnest men, who rightly considered some of these plays as dangerous for [166]young people. Von Raumer says: “It seems incredible that the learning by heart and acting of comedies, so lascivious as those of Terence, could have remained without evil influence on the morality of youth, and we find it unintelligible that a religious-minded man like Sturm did not consider Terence really seductive. If the mere reading of an author like Terence is risky, how much more risky must it be, if pupils perform such pieces and have to familiarize themselves altogether with the persons and situations.”⁠[339] No wonder that serious complaints were made against such pernicious practices.⁠[340] The biblical and historical plays performed in Protestant schools were mostly directed against “Popish idolatry”.⁠[341]

The drama of the Jesuits stood in sharp contrast to that of the Protestants. As their whole literary education, so also their drama was subordinate to the religious and moral training. The Ratio Studiorum prohibited the reading of any classical books which contained obscenities; they had first to be expurgated; expressly mentioned were Terence and Plautus. This must reflect most favorably on the Jesuits, in a time when vulgarity and obscenity reigned supreme in literature and drama.

As the nature and function of the theatre the Jesuits considered the stirring up of the pious emotions, the guardianship of youth against the corrupting influence of evil society, the portrayal of vice as something intrinsically despicable, the rousing up of the inner man to a zealous crusade for virtue, and the [167]imitation of the Saints. Even in the treatment of purely secular subjects, the plot was always of a spiritually serious, deeply tragic, and morally important nature. The aim of the comic drama was to strike at the puerilities and ineptitudes, which could be treated on the stage without any detriment to the moral conscience. Vulgar jokes and low comedy were once and for all excluded, and the Jesuit authorities were indefatigable in thus guarding the moral prestige of the plays. In general, only such plays were written and produced as were in harmony with the moral ends and moral limits of dramatic art itself: a meritorious achievement in an age when every sentiment of moral delicacy, every prescription of social decorum, every dictate of ordinary modesty—both in the school and on the stage—was being outraged. And this fact produced a healthy reaction in favor of all the fine arts in general. The intermittent efforts of Jesuit dramatists could not, it is true, completely stem the tide of public degeneracy, could not even remain altogether unscathed by the time-serving fashions and foibles of the age: from the grosser and more revolting aberrations they were happily preserved.⁠[342]

The subjects of Jesuit dramas were frequently biblical or allegorical: as “The Prodigal Son” (Heiligenstadt 1582), “Joseph in Egypt” (Munich 1583), “Christ as Judge”, “Saul and David” (Graz 1589–1600), “Naboth” (Ratisbon 1609), “Elias” (Prague 1610). Or historical subjects were chosen: “Julian the Apostate” (Ingolstadt 1608), “Belisarius” (Munich 1607), “Godfrey de Bouillon” (Munich 1596), “St. Ambrose”, “St. Benno”, “St. Henry the [168]Emperor”, etc.⁠[343] Favorite subjects were the lives of the Saints with their rich, beautiful, touching and morally ennobling elements, and the Christian legends. In these the Catholic Church has preserved, as Professor Paulsen aptly remarks, a poetical treasure which in many respects surpasses the stories of the Old Testament, both in purity and dramatic applicability.⁠[344]

Many of their dramas were exhibited with all possible splendor, as for instance those given at La Flèche in 1614 before Louis XIII. and his court.⁠[345] But it seems that nowhere was greater pomp displayed than in Munich, where the Court liberally contributed to make the performances as brilliant as possible. In 1574 the tragedy “Constantine” was played on two successive days. The whole city was beautifully decorated. More than one thousand persons took part in the play. Constantine, after his victory over Maxentius, entered the city on a triumphal chariot, surrounded by 400 horsemen in glittering armor. At the performance of the tragedy “Esther” in 1577, the most splendid costumes, gems, etc. were furnished from the treasury of the duke; at the banquet of King Assuerus 160 precious dishes of gold and silver were used.⁠[346]

We may now understand the following assertions of a German writer. “The Jesuits, as Richard Wagner [169]in our own days, aimed at and succeeded in uniting all the arts within the compass of the drama. The effects of such dramas were, like those of the Oberammergau Passion Play, ravishing, overpowering. Even people ignorant of the Latin tongue were transported by the representations of subjects usually familiar to them, as at present no one travels to the village of Ammergau to be edified by the poetic beauties of the text. And no one can deny that the liturgy of the Catholic Church makes a deep impression, even on the uncultured, although the Latin language is unknown to them. It is in the first place the power of what is seen that affects the mind so forcibly.”⁠[347]

The concourse of people was often immense. In 1565 “Judith” was played before the court in Munich, and then repeated before the people on a public square; not only was the whole square densely crowded, but even the surrounding walls and the roofs of the houses were thickly filled with eager spectators. In 1560 the comedy “Euripus” was given in the court-yard of the College of Prague before a crowd of more than 8000 people. The play had to be repeated three times, and when further exhibitions were demanded, the Rector of the college urgently requested the petitioners to desist from such demands, as “after all it was not the task of the Society to exhibit comedies.”

Catholic writers of the time speak enthusiastically of the salutary effects of such performances. “They do more good than a sermon”, writes the Italian physician Guarinoni, who saw many Jesuit dramas at [170]Hall in Tyrol. At Munich, on one occasion, in 1609, the impression of a play—it was “Cenodoxus, the Doctor of Paris”, (or the “Conversion of St. Bruno”)—was overpowering. A spectator wrote that a hundred sermons could not have produced the same effect; fourteen of the foremost members of the Bavarian court, on the following day, withdrew themselves into solitude, to enter upon the “Spiritual Exercises” of St. Ignatius, and to change their manner of life.⁠[348]

Protestant preachers lamented that “high personages, princes and counts, no less than townspeople and rustics take such delight in the dramas of the Jesuits, contribute money to them, and honor the actors, whereas ours have nothing of the kind. Thus the Jesuits have an opportunity of propagating their idolatry and of gaining the good will even of the Evangelicals.”⁠[349] This result would certainly have been impossible, if the Jesuit dramas had contained invectives against non-Catholics. They were free from insulting and abusive attacks with which those of the other side were teeming. This is established by the standard authors on this subject, Karl von Reinhardstöttner, and Holstein. The latter, speaking with offensive and bitter language of the Jesuit dramas as means of defending “idolatry”, must admit that their object was exclusively pedagogical, not at all polemical. Another Protestant, Francke, states as the difference between Protestant and Catholic school dramas, that the former sank more and more to a mere form for political and ecclesiastical controversies, chiefly directed against Popery, whereas the Jesuits were [171]working quietly in their schools and performed their biblical and historical plays.⁠[350]

That not all dramatic productions of the Jesuits were of very inferior quality may again be inferred from testimonies of competent Protestant critics. K. von Reinhardstöttner writes: “In the first century of their history the Jesuits did great work in this line. They performed dramas full of power and grandeur and although their dramatic productions did not equal the fine lyrics of (the Jesuits) Balde and Sarbiewski, still in the dramas of Fabricius, Agricola and others there is unmistakably poetic spirit and noble seriousness. How could the enormous success of their performances be otherwise explained?... Who could doubt for a moment that the Jesuits by their dramas rendered great services to their century, that they advanced culture, and preserved taste for the theatre and its subsidiary arts? It would be sheer ingratitude to undervalue what they have effected by their drama.”⁠[351]

We have testimonies proving that not only in the first century of its existence did the Order produce good plays, but that it kept up a high standard to the very end. One witness is Goethe, the first of German writers, assuredly no mean critic in dramatic matters. He was present at a play given in 1786 at Ratisbon, where the traditions of the Jesuit schools were kept up after the suppression of the Order. He bestows high praise on the performance and on the skill with which the Jesuits knew how to make the various arts subservient to their dramatics.⁠[352]

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If the number of great men be taken as a just criterion of the merit of an educational system, the Society could exhibit a long roll of pupils, who in their after-life were among the most prominent men in European history: poets like Calderon, Tasso, Corneille, Molière, Fontenelle, Goldoni; orators like Bossuet; scholars like Galileo, Descartes, Buffon, Justus Lipsius, Vico, Muratori, Montesquieu, Malesherbes; statesmen like Richelieu and Emperor Ferdinand; generals like Tilly, Wallenstein and Condé; Church dignitaries like the great St. Francis de Sales, Pope Benedict XIV, called “the most learned of the Popes.” These are but a few of the host of Jesuit pupils who rose to the highest distinction in Church and State, or in the domain of science and literature.⁠[353] However, the Society does not lay much stress on the fact of having educated these brilliant men. It might be said with Count de Maistre, that “Genius is not the production of schools; it is not acquired but innate; it recognizes no obligation to man; its gratitude is due to the creative power of God.” Still, a system of education [173]may contribute much to foster and quicken the development of genius. But the Society can justly claim to have made excellent men of pupils with only ordinary abilities, and these count by thousands, nay by hundreds of thousands: lawyers, professors, state officials, officers of the army, priests and bishops.

Considering the number and work of the Jesuit schools, we may conclude that they wielded a very great influence in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. This influence led to the persecution and finally the suppression of the Order; not as if the Order had abused its influence, but because the power which the Society exercised in the intellectual and moral world, was an eye-sore to the numerous enemies of the Jesuits. At last, after the middle of the seventeenth century, the hated Order fell a victim to the intrigues of its opponents. We cannot here enter on a lengthy account of the history of the destruction of the Society, but must refer the reader to special works on this subject.⁠[354] Suffice it to mention briefly the opinions of a few impartial witnesses.

Prince Hohenlohe wrote at the time of the suppression that the destruction of the Order was “une cabale infernale.”⁠[355] Theiner, who was a bitter enemy of the Society, calls the suppression a “disgraceful warfare, a deplorable drama, in which too many impure elements played a leading part.”⁠[356] Many prominent Protestant historians, as Ranke, Schoell, J. v. Müller, Sismondi, Leo, declare the charges brought against [174]the Society as calumnies of its enemies, and maintain that the suppression of the Order was not due to any crimes of the Jesuits, but entirely to the tyrannical violence of ministers of State.⁠[357] In Portugal it was Pombal who aimed at separating his country from Rome and introducing infidelity; the Jesuits, for their unflinching loyalty to the Papacy and the staunch defence of revealed religion, were to be the first victims. Pombal hired pamphleteers to calumniate them systematically. Spain and France at the same time began to persecute the Society. In the latter country the Jansenists and Huguenots had always borne a deadly hatred to the Order. The names of the chief enemies of the Jesuits show clearly, in what direction the warfare against them tended: the Duke of Choiseul, the ill-famed Madame de Pompadour, Voltaire, d’Alembert and other French infidel philosophers. They had always regarded the Jesuits as the most formidable and dangerous enemies of their revolutionary designs. Voltaire wrote to Helvetius, in 1761, in a tone of exultant anticipation: “Once we have destroyed the Jesuits, that ‘infamous thing’ (the Christian religion) will be only child’s play for us.”⁠[358] However, he could not and would not calumniate the hated Order in the style of others: “While doing my very best to realize the motto: Écrasez l’infâme, I will not stoop to the meanness of defaming the Jesuits. The best years of my life have been spent in the schools of the Jesuits, and while there I have never listened to any teaching but what was good, or seen [175]any conduct but what was exemplary.”⁠[359] Neither could J. J. Rousseau be induced to lend his pen to decry the Society, although he confessed that he did not like the Jesuits.

Pope Clement XIV. at last yielded to the threats of the ministers of the Bourbon kings, and in 1773, by a Brief he suppressed the Society, “in order to preserve peace.” “This letter”, says a Protestant historian, “condemns neither the doctrine, nor the morals, of the Jesuits. The complaints of the courts against the Order are the only motives alleged for its suppression.”⁠[360] When recently Sir Henry Howorth represented this Brief as an infallible ex-cathedra pronouncement of the Pope, he thereby showed that he has not even the most elementary notion of what is meant by Papal infallibility. Succeeding events proved that—to use the words of one of the enemies of the Jesuits—a peace treaty was struck between the wolves and the shepherd, and that the latter had sacrificed the best watch-dogs of the flock. The dreadful French Revolution opened the eyes of many to the real purport of the persecutions of the Jesuits. True, the Church is not built on the Society, but on the rock of Peter. Still the Church suffered immensely by this sacrifice of its most zealous defenders, and well might Pope Pius VII., in the Bull of the Restoration of the Society in 1814, speak of the “dispersion of the very stones of the sanctuary,” which had followed the destruction of the Society and the consequent calamities.

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It was at this juncture that a Protestant and a Schismatical court rendered homage to the services of the Jesuits, and gave a brilliant testimony to their educational abilities. Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, being determined to preserve them in his kingdom,⁠[361] wrote to Abbé Columbini, his agent at Rome, a letter dated from Potsdam, September 13, 1773, in which the following passage occurs: “I am determined that in my kingdom the Jesuits shall continue to exist and maintain their ancient form. In the treaty of Breslau I guaranteed the status quo of the Catholic religion; nor have I ever seen better priests, from any point of view, than the Jesuits. You may add that since I belong to a heretical sect, His Holiness holds no power to dispense me from the obligation of keeping my word, or from my duty as a king and an honest man.”⁠[362] On May 15th, 1774, writing to d’Alembert, who was dissatisfied that the Jesuits were not completely exterminated, and feared that other kings moved by the example of Prussia might demand of Frederick seed to cultivate in their own kingdoms, he replied: “I view them only as men of letters, whose place in the instruction of youth it would be difficult, if not impossible, to supply. Of the Catholic clergy of this country they alone apply themselves to literature. This renders them so useful and necessary that you need not fear any one shall obtain from me a single Jesuit.” In 1770 he had written in [177]similar terms to Voltaire. Speaking of Pope Clement XIV., he says: “For my own part I have no reason to complain of him; he leaves me my dear Jesuits, whom they are persecuting everywhere. I will save the precious seed, for those who should wish to cultivate a plant so rare.”⁠[363] On May 15th, 1775, he wrote to d’Alembert: “In their misfortune I see in them nothing but scholars whose place in the education of youth can hardly be supplied by others.” Again on Aug. 5, 1775: “For the good Jesuit Fathers I have a d— tenderness, not as far as they are monks but as educators and scholars, whose services are useful to civil society.” Now, if the Jesuits were dangerous to the welfare of the state, as their enemies make them, how strange that the Atheist on the Prussian throne, the shrewdest and most keen-sighted monarch of his time, should have failed to see it? But he was not the man to let himself be influenced by silly prejudices.

The second ruler of Europe who endeavored to protect the Society was Catharine II., Empress of Russia.⁠[364] In 1783 she wrote to Pope Pius VI. “that she was resolved to maintain these priests for the welfare of her states against any power, whatsoever it was.” In the same year the Russian court in a note to Mgr. Archetti, Papal Nuncio to Poland, thus expressed its sentiments on the Jesuits: “The Roman Catholics of the Russian Empire, having given unequivocal proofs of their loyalty to the Empress, have thereby acquired a right to the confirmation of their former privileges. Of this number is the instruction of youth, which has heretofore been committed to the [178]Jesuits. The zeal animating these religious, and the success crowning their efforts, have been marked by the Imperial Government with the utmost satisfaction. Would it be just to deprive the inhabitants of White Russia of this precious Institution? In other countries where the Order was suppressed, no substitutes have been found. And why single out for destruction, among the many religious orders, that which devotes itself to the education of youth, and consequently to the public welfare?”⁠[365]

These testimonies refute also a charge sometimes made even by Catholic writers. Theiner, for instance, asserts or implies that, for a space of time preceding the suppression, the Society had fallen away from the station it had held originally in literary and educational matters, that their system had become useless to the interests of science, that education suffered in their hands, that youth issued from their colleges unprotected against the assaults of error, etc.⁠[366] These charges are ably refuted by Abbé Maynard in his work just quoted: The Studies and Teaching of the Society of Jesus at the Time of its Suppression 1750–73. But as we said, the appreciation of the Jesuits’ educational labors, as shown by Frederick II. and Catharine II., exonerates them completely. These two were the most sagacious monarchs of Europe at the time, and what could have influenced them, atheists as they were, to show such favors to the persecuted Society, had it not been its superiority as an educating body? All attempts to weaken the testimonies of the words and actions of these two rulers have proved unsuccessful.⁠[367]

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Besides, Maynard points out in detail that the Jesuits at that time had among their number hundreds of able writers in all branches of learning. The Society could boast of great mathematicians and scientists, as the famous Roger Boscovich († 1787), who was despatched by the Royal Society of London to California to observe the second transit of Venus. During the heat of the French Revolution the French astronomer Lalande, who took pride in the title “the atheist astronomer”, ventured to write Father Boscovich’s eulogy in the “Journal of Men of Science” (February 1792). Then there was Maximilian Hell († 1792), for thirty-six years director of the Imperial Observatory at Vienna. In 1768 he was invited by Christian VII., King of Denmark, to observe in Lapland the transit of Venus. Of the result of Father Hell’s expedition Lalande wrote: “This was one of the five complete observations made at great distances apart.”⁠[368] Father Hell was a worthy successor to the [180]great Jesuit astronomers and mathematicians Clavius, Kircher, Riccioli, Scheiner, Grimaldi, and a precursor of the famous Father Secchi, one of the greatest astronomers, at least in spectroscopy, of the nineteenth century.

Lalande, in his Bibliographie Astronomique, enumerates forty-five Jesuit astronomers and eighty-nine astronomical publications for the short period of 1750–1773. The same author, in the continuation of Montucla’s History of Mathematics, pays the following tribute to the Society: “Here I must remark to the honor of this learned and cruelly persecuted Society, that in several colleges it possessed observatories, for instance in Marseilles, Avignon, Lyons, etc.” There were other observatories in Rome, Florence, Milan, in fact in every country where Jesuits had colleges. Of Germany and Austria, Lalande remarks: “There were in Germany and the neighboring countries few large colleges of the Society which had no observatory.” He mentions those of Vienna, Tyrnau, Ingolstadt, Graz, Breslau, Olmütz, Prague, etc., and speaks highly of the scientific work done by the Jesuit astronomers. He adds that after the “deplorable catastrophe of the Society,” most of these observatories shared the fate of the Order.⁠[369]

Quite recently Professor Günther of Munich⁠[370] called [181]attention to the important scientific works of three Jesuits of that period, three relatives of the name Zallinger: John Baptist, Professor in the Jesuit college at Innsbruck, who wrote a remarkable treatise on the growth of plants; James Anton, Professor in Munich, Dillingen, Innsbruck, and Augsburg, a zealous defender of the Newtonian system, who “published works of such importance that it is surprising that they could have been buried in oblivion.” The greatest of the three was Francis Zallinger, who published several important works with new views, which partly are held at present, on electricity, meteorology, mechanics, and with particular success on hydrology. Professor Günther repeatedly expresses his astonishment that such works could have been so completely ignored, that no modern work on the history of sciences does justice to them. Very few mention the names of these writers. We may be convinced that careful research will bring to light many more distinguished Jesuit scientists of that period.

Also in literature, shortly before the suppression, the Jesuits had among their numbers distinguished writers. Father Tiraboschi († 1794) wrote the History of Italian Literature, in thirteen volumes, up to this day one of the most valuable works on this subject. In France, men like Father Porée and many others were admired even by Voltaire for their literary accomplishments. In Germany, the Jesuit Denis († 1800) rendered the so-called poems of Ossian into his native tongue, and this with such success as to win the highest praise from Goethe. About this time Father Hervas began to write his great “Catalogue of languages”, of which we spoke before. But as we [182]are not writing a literary history of the Society, it is enough to have mentioned these few names. A host of other distinguished men, who flourished towards the end of the seventeenth century, may be found in Abbé Maynard’s work. Thus the assertion that the Society had become useless to science and literature, is a pure calumny.

As groundless is the charge that the Jesuits had failed in their lofty mission with respect to teaching. We have heard what Frederick II. and Catharine II. thought of them. Most of the celebrated writers mentioned before were engaged as teachers in the collegiate or university establishments of the Order. A cloud of witnesses stands forth to testify that the work of education was carried on with unabated zeal and with great success, not only in languages and literature, but also in mathematics and sciences. Thus Deslandes, commissary of the navy at Brest, testified, in 1748, that the Jesuits had furnished the navy excellent professors of mathematics.⁠[371]

It may be well to quote what the historian of the University of Paris has to say about the educational labors of the Society in France up to the time of its suppression: “If one rises above prejudices and narrow professional jealousies, how can one deny the eminent services which the Society rendered to youth and the family, from its reestablishment under Henry IV.? Those of its enemies who want to be impartial and sincere admit that its colleges were well conducted, that the discipline was at once firm and mild, strict and paternal; that the scholastic routine was improved by wise innovations, cleverly adapted [183]to the progress in manners and social demands; that the teachers were unassuming, devoted to their work, well instructed, and for the greater part masters in the art of elevating youth; some were perfect humanists, others, scientists of the first rank, so regular in their lives that never has any reproach of misdemeanor been uttered against them. Should one say that, in spite of showy appearances, the education given by the Jesuits lacked solidity, that they too often substituted frivolous practices or worldly exercises for serious work,—a charge frequently made by the University—the Jesuits could answer by pointing to their pupils who held honorable positions in the domain of science and literature, at the court and in the armies, in the ranks of the bourgeoisie and among the nobility.... As instructors of youth, the Jesuits were above reproach, and more worthy of recommendation than of persecution.... We do not inquire whether in other rôles played by the disciples of St. Ignatius, they did not allow themselves to be carried away to excesses of pride, ambition, and intolerance, which necessarily brought upon them cruel retaliation; in connection with our subject, suffice it to state that in the field of studies and public education, their activity was, in general, beneficial. The inexorable sentence which suddenly destroyed their colleges is explained, from the historical point of view, by the prejudices and the hatred existing against the Society. But after having related the biased acclamations of contemporaries, must this sentence, so sadly renowned, be confirmed by the equitable judgment of history? We think not; for it is against truth and justice in many regards, and, as the events that followed have proved, [184]it served neither the Church, nor the State, nor even the University, in spite of the hopes which the latter had based on the ruin of its adversaries.”⁠[372] The author, in the chapter following, then describes the fatal consequences for education in France, resulting from the destruction of the Society.

This much is certain that it was not its inability, but, on the contrary, its great success for which the Society was doomed by the Catos of the eighteenth century, whose ceterum censeo was that the hated Order was to be destroyed. What the Jesuits had been doing for education and learning became apparent after the destruction of their Order, and it was openly declared by many that the ruin of the Society was followed by a fatal decline of learning among the Catholics. The Bishops of France represented to the King, that “the dispersion of the Jesuits had left a lamentable void in the functions of the sacred ministry and the education of youth, to which they consecrated their talents and their labors.”⁠[373] In 1803 Abbé Emery wrote: “The Jesuits have been expelled, their system of teaching has been rejected. But what substitutes for them have we discovered, and in what have the new theories resulted? Are the youth better instructed, or their morals purer? Their presumptuous ignorance and depravity force us to sigh for the old masters and the old ways.”⁠[374]

About the same time Chateaubriand in his famous work, The Genius of Christianity, exclaimed: “In the [185]destruction of the Jesuits learned Europe has suffered an irreparable loss. Since that unhappy event education has never been in a state of prosperity.” And in his Mélanges he expresses himself to the same effect: “The Jesuits maintained and were increasing their reputation to the last moment of their existence. Their destruction has inflicted a deadly wound on education and letters: as to this, at the present time, there is no diversity of opinion.” And even Theiner does not hesitate to say that “the wound inflicted on education was incurable.”⁠[375] In Lord Stanhope’s conversation with the great Duke of Wellington we find a striking passage on the same subject. Speaking at Walmer in October 1833, the Duke said to Lord Mahon: “On the whole I think it is very doubtful whether, since the suppression of the Jesuits, the system of education has been as good, or whether as remarkable men have appeared. I am quite sure that they have not in the south of Europe. It was a great mistake.”⁠[376] In Treves the Jesuits possessed, besides the novitiate and the university, a flourishing college. When the news of the suppression of the Society arrived, the Archbishop Elector, Clement Wenceslaus of Poland, is said to have exclaimed: “Cecidit corona capitis nostri”—“The crown of our head is fallen;”⁠[377] and, as the historian of the Royal Gymnasium of Treves adds, his outcry of sorrow was justified. A few years after the Jesuits had left the college, the pernicious leaven of French infidelity had permeated the faculty and was undermining the faith of the young.

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And such was the case everywhere. German scepticism, French atheism, Jansenism, and Josephism began to reign supreme. Let us add here that the Protestant cause was never strengthened by any persecution of the Society; the only gainer was always infidelity. The statement of Mr. Browning, that the governments on the whole have done well to suppress the Jesuit colleges,⁠[378] is proved utterly false by history. At the same time it advocates an intolerable state absolutism. If parents wish to send their children to the schools of the Jesuits, and of religious in general, it is a violation of parental rights, and an infringement of religious and political liberty, to make the attainment of such wishes impossible. In the light of this consideration, the legislation of M. Waldeck-Rousseau, and the recent proceedings against the teaching congregations in France must appear to all fair-minded men as tyranny and a new “reign of terror”.

To all students of history who are not blinded by fanatical hatred, the downfall of such a society of men who had devoted their lives to the propagation of religion and the advancement of science, must appear most pathetic. Such it appeared to the atheist astronomer Lalande. “The mention of a Jesuit,” he writes, “awakens all the feelings of my heart, my mind and my gratitude. It harrows all my sore feelings at the blindness of the ministers of 1762. Mankind has irretrievably lost, and will never recover, that precious and surprising union of twenty-two thousand individuals, devoted incessantly and disinterestedly to the functions of teaching, preaching, missions, to duties most serviceable and dearest to humanity. Retirement, [187]frugality, and the renunciation of pleasure, constituted in that Society the most harmonious concord of science and virtue. I had personal knowledge of them: they were an assemblage of heroes for religion and humanity.”⁠[379]

We close this chapter with the following sympathetic lines of a recent writer: “The rise of the Jesuits had been astonishing. Their fall was august. Annihilation could not shake their constancy. No tempests of misfortune could attaint their magnificent obedience. Defamation, incarceration, banishment, starvation, death, unthankfulness, fell upon them, and could not alter, and could not dismay. To the cabals of courtiers and the frenzy of kings, to the laugh of triumphing harlots, and the rebuke of solemn hypocrites, to the loud-voiced joy of the heretic and the unbeliever, to the poisonous sneer of banded sectaries, exulting in their secret confederation, to the gibes of traitors, to the burning sympathies of unpurchased and unpurchasable multitudes, the only response of the Jesuits was superb and indomitable duty. Girt round by cruelty and frivolity, more cruel still; as in the centre of a vast amphitheatre of the antique which they had taught so well, they remained as high resolved, as unflinching as Sebastian before the archers of the Palatine, or the virgin Blandina amid the beasts at Lyons. It was hardly a marvel that the victorious monarch of Prussia, outside the Church though he was, but accustomed to see men die at the call of honor and discipline, half owned a thrill of warrior emotion, and paid a captain’s [188]salutation, to that infrangible, that devoted army. The Jesuits were not only the ablest of Renaissance schoolmasters, they were great priests, great missionaries, great civilizers, great practicians of the supreme art of persuading and leading men. And the sentence of destruction smote them in the midst of their activity, in a hundred regions where they had become indispensable or almost impossible to replace.... Never was such a famous company of scholars in all the records of former civilizations, deep-read in philosophies; famous for sacred eloquence; masters of languages, editors of the lore of antiquity, of the writers of Byzantium, of the obscure dialects of Malaysia and the Upper Amazon; historians, philologists, restorers of chronology.... To gain the lying promise of a lying peace, they were demanded as a holocaust to the licentious puppets on the thrones of the Bourbons, to the dark powers behind the veils of the lodge. And their loss to civilization, their loss to France, was not to be computed even by the largest enumeration of what they had done, and what they were capable of doing. The Christendom to which they had become so necessary, and which in an hour was forced to do without them, was yet to learn the unspeakable significance of such a deprivation. In proportion to the services of the Jesuits was the void of their disappearance, the calamity of their fall. When main pillars of an edifice are shattered, more may be shattered than the pillars alone.”⁠[380]

The Society had been suppressed by Clement XIV. The historian Dr. Brück says: “The Pope’s conduct was harsh and unjust”, as he had not a single crime to lay to their charge;⁠[381] and even Dr. Döllinger, however hostile to the Society, must have considered its suppression unjust; for he calls its restoration an act of justice.⁠[382] Documentary evidence proves that the Jesuits heroically submitted. Even in Silesia, where Frederick II. wanted to maintain them, “they were unwilling to hold out against the papal bull”,⁠[383] and laying aside whatever was specifically characteristic of the Society, they directed the schools as secular priests. Catharine II. of Russia stubbornly refused to allow the Papal Brief of suppression to be published in her dominions. As the publication was required before the Brief could take effect, the Jesuits continued their work in the two colleges at Mohilev and Polotzk in White Russia. Five years after the suppression, in 1778, the new Pope Pius VI. granted them permission to establish a novitiate. Thus, as Frederick II. [190]expressed it, “the seed had been preserved for those who should wish to cultivate a plant so rare.” In 1801, Pius VII., the successor of Pius VI., allowed the Jesuits to establish themselves as a Congregation in Russia, and in 1804 he authorized the introduction of this Congregation into the kingdom of the Two Sicilies.

At length, in 1814, Pius VII., who had been educated by the enemies of the Jesuits, reestablished the Society of Jesus. The Pope gives as the motive of this step, that “he acted on the demand of all Catholic Christendom”. “We should deem ourselves guilty of a great crime towards God, if amidst the dangers of the Christian republic, we neglected the aids which the special providence of God has put at our disposal; and, if placed in the bark of Peter, tossed and assailed by continual storms, we refuse to employ the vigorous and experienced rowers who volunteer their services, in order to break the waves of a sea which threatens every moment shipwreck and death.”⁠[384] In this Bull, Pius VII. expressly says: “We declare besides, and grant power that they may freely and lawfully apply themselves to the education of youth in the principles of the Catholic faith, to form them to good morals, and to direct colleges and seminaries.”

The Society immediately took up this work so dear to its founder and ever cherished by the Fathers of the Old Society. New fields had been opened in the meantime for establishing colleges, especially in England and her dependencies, and in the United States of America.

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As regards the system of studies it was found necessary, soon after the restoration of the Society, to accommodate the Ratio to the new conditions of the time. The changes were undertaken with the same calm circumspection with which the old Ratio had been drawn up under Father Aquaviva. As early as 1820 suggestions and observations were sent to Rome from the different provinces. In 1830, the General of the Society, Father Roothaan,⁠[385] himself an excellent classical scholar and experienced teacher, summoned to Rome representatives of all the provinces. After careful deliberations the Revised Ratio appeared in 1832. It was not a new system; nothing had been changed in the essentials, in the fundamental principles. It was an adaptation to modern exigencies of the old methods which had been approved by such great success in former times.

The changes referred mainly to those branches of study, which had become important in the course of time. In the colleges Latin and Greek should remain the principal subjects, but more time and care should henceforth be devoted to the study of the mother-tongue and its literature, although this had by no means been neglected in the Old Society.⁠[386] Thus to the 23. Rule of the Provincial was added: “He shall take great care that the pupils [in the colleges of his Province] are thoroughly instructed in their mother-tongue, and he shall assign to each class the amount [192]and kind of work to be done.” The speaking of Latin in the lower classes was no longer possible; special care of idiom in translating is recommended, as also correctness of pronunciation of the mother-tongue. In the higher classes the cultivation of style in the vernacular, according to the best models, is insisted on. The rules concerning dramatic performances are left out; exhibitions are neither encouraged nor forbidden. In the report of the commission it is said that, if dramas are given, they should be in the vernacular.⁠[387] For the grammar classes, other authors are introduced; in the highest grammar class, Sallust, Curtius and Livy are read besides Cicero, the elements of mythology and archaeology are to be taught. Xenophon takes the place of Aesop and Agapetus. In the middle grammar class Caesar is added; in the lowest, Cornelius Nepos.⁠[388]

As mathematics and natural sciences, history and geography claimed more attention, the Revised Ratio prescribed accordingly that more time should be devoted to these branches,⁠[389] although they were to be considered rather as “accessories” in the literary curriculum. For the study of more advanced mathematics and of natural sciences was even then thought to belong properly to the course of philosophy. Still the new Ratio left to Provincial Superiors considerable liberty in this matter, and the Jesuit colleges, conforming to the customs of the respective countries, have introduced some of these branches also in the lower classes.

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The greatest change was made in the rules concerning the teaching of philosophy and natural sciences. Aristotle, the Philosopher of former times, could no longer hold his place in the schools. So the Revised Ratio does not mention him, although the speculative questions of logics and general metaphysics are mostly treated according to Aristotelian principles. And rightly so; for as a modern Professor of Philosophy says, “Aristotle’s doctrine forms the basis of traditional logic even to this day.”⁠[390]

It may be safely said that after the vagaries of Hegel and others, there was manifested, in the latter part of the nineteenth century, a greater appreciation of Aristotelian philosophy. The most prominent advocate of this revival, Professor Trendelenburg of Berlin, expressly declares that “the organic theory of the universe, the basis of which was laid by Plato and Aristotle, is the only philosophy which has a future before it; and that speculation done by fits and starts and by every man for himself, has proved itself to have no permanence.”⁠[391] A remark of Professor Paulsen may not be without interest. “There are people who are inclined to use the names of Thomas Aquinas and Scotus as synonymous with nonsense and craziness. To such it may be well to say that even at the present day there are men who think similarly as Saint Thomas, whom they consider the prince of philosophers, and on whom they base their whole philosophical instruction. And these are the men to whom the despisers of scholasticism give credit for a great amount, if not of wisdom, at least of extraordinary [194]prudence and cunning, I mean the Jesuits. Has not the See of Rome restored Saint Thomas, the philosopher whom the Society of Jesus has chosen as its guide, as the philosopher of the Church? Has this been done in order to stultify the clergy? Can this be the intention of those who, through the clergy, wish to domineer over the world?”⁠[392]

Physics, chemistry, physiology, psychology, astronomy, geology, and cosmology are taught according to the established principles of modern science. The basis of this study is thus laid down: “The professor of physics is to expose theories, systems, and hypotheses, so as to make it clear what degree of certitude or probability belongs to each. Since in this faculty new progress is made every day, the professor must consider it part of his duty, to know the more recent discoveries, so that in his prelections he may advance with the science itself.”⁠[393] Higher mathematics (analytic geometry and calculus) are to be taught not only in one but in two, if possible in three, years of the philosophical course. We may now invite the reader to judge about Compayré’s assertions: “The sciences and philosophy are involved in the same disdain as history. Scientific studies are entirely proscribed in the lower classes, and the student enters his year in philosophy, having studied only the ancient languages. Philosophy itself is reduced to a barren study of words, to subtile discussions, and to commentaries on Aristotle. Memory and syllogistic reasoning are the only faculties called into play; no facts, no real inductions, no care for the observation of nature. In all things the Jesuits are the enemies of progress. [195]Intolerant of anything new, they would arrest the progress of the human mind and make it immovable.”⁠[394] It seems almost impossible to crowd more falsehoods into so small a space. There are at least ten flagrant misrepresentations in these six short sentences.⁠[395]

Philosophy has been discarded from most modern programs of college instruction, but to the great detriment of solid learning. A thorough philosophical training is of the greatest value for the lawyer, physician, and scientist, and for every man who wishes to occupy a higher position in life. Paulsen, and many other leading German schoolmen, express their regret that in the new systems philosophical training has been entirely relegated to the university. Two objections are made against this method: First, the form of [196]instruction proper to the university is of the continuous lecture. But this method presupposes instruction in form of question and answer, in philosophy as well as in other branches. We should consider it a failure to try to teach grammar from the beginning by lectures, as given at the university. It seems as little promising of success to teach logic in this manner. Exercises in logic must be practised as well as must the forms of grammar. By giving a boy a definition of the Subjunctive or of the Ablative Absolute, you will not enable him to write correctly. Similarly by lecturing about the definition or by giving a definition of definition, even when illustrated by examples, you will not enable the student to handle these formulas logically. To a certain extent this applies also to psychology, ethics and civics. The elementary notions must be practised by concrete examples, so that they are ready, and as it were, handy in mind; then it is possible to use them for more complicated operations.⁠[396]

The second reason for not relegating philosophy entirely to the university, has been well stated by Professor Elsperger. “If the gymnasia do not wish to leave to chance the sort of ideas the pupils get from a reading that is often enough desultory, and from intercourse with others, then they need, in the highest classes, a branch of study which gives them the ideas needed. This can be attained only by elementary training in philosophy. Mathematics can do nothing in this direction, the study of Latin and Greek literature [197]does something, but is not sufficient, and unfortunately, religion is to some extent mistrusted by not a few teachers. Thus it happens that many of our older pupils not only suffer shipwreck in their faith, but leave college with that lamentable scepticism of the uneducated, which views every nobler idea with suspicion. This tendency of very many of our young men can be counteracted only by a branch of study which attacks that sceptical disposition, and forces the pupil to obtain a deeper view of things.”⁠[397]

It is exactly for such reasons that the Society of Jesus has kept the course of philosophy in its curriculum of higher education. It agrees with Professor Paulsen that elementary training in philosophy is possible and necessary in higher schools.⁠[398] About the possibility, the Jesuits never could entertain the least doubt, as for centuries they carried it out successfully, and at present are giving a solid philosophical training in all their larger colleges.

The Revised Ratio of 1832 was in no way considered final. In the letter accompanying this Ratio, Father General Roothaan, writes to the provinces: “We offer to you the result of careful examinations and discussions. You must test it practically that it may be again corrected, if necessary, or enlarged, and then be sanctioned as a universal law (for the [198]Society).”⁠[399] Only by a decree of a General Congregation of the Order is this sanction possible. Such a decree, however, was not passed; consequently, the Revised Ratio has not the force of a law in the Society, but is merely to be considered as a regulation of the General. So much liberty is left to Provincials that the teaching in Jesuit colleges can easily be adapted to the educational needs of all countries. In 1853, the XXII. Congregation of the Order passed a decree that “the Provincials should be free to exercise the power granted them by the 29th rule of making changes in the studies, according to the demands of various countries and times.”⁠[400] The same decree ordered that “new proposals for amendments be sent from the single provinces and that the Ratio (of 1832) be revised with the advice of learned and experienced men.”

In the XXIII. Congregation, 1883, the study of natural sciences was especially recommended. Among others the following regulation was passed: “Those scholastics [the younger members of the Order engaged in studies] who seem to have a special talent for any of these sciences, should be given a fourth year, or special hours in the third year of their philosophical course, to perfect themselves in that science under the direction of a professor.”⁠[401] “It is advisable to destine select younger members of the Society for the acquisition of the degrees which empower them to act as authorized public teachers.” (State examinations in the European Universities.) These special [199]subjects are to be pursued after the regular course of studies has been finished.⁠[402] Finally, it was asked “that some regulations should be made as to special studies in ancient languages, philology, ethnology, archaeology, history, higher mathematics and all natural sciences.” It was decreed that no “general prescription could be made in this matter, but the Provincials should confer with the General as to how these studies should be arranged in the different provinces. At the same time the Congregation decrees that, provided the customary studies of the Society, and as far as possible, the preeminence of literary studies remain intact in the classical schools, the progress and increased cultivation of those [special] branches should be earnestly recommended to the Provincials. It is also their duty to select those young men, who have a special talent for these branches, that they may devote themselves to them entirely.”⁠[403]

From all that has been said so far, it becomes evident that the Society is continually improving its system, and adapting it to the conditions of the age. It would also seem that it was inadvertence to these more recent legislations which betrayed President Eliot into the statement: “The curriculum of the Jesuit colleges has remained almost unchanged for four hundred years, disregarding some trifling concessions made to natural sciences.”⁠[404] As the Ratio of 1832 has not been ratified by a Congregation, and as a further revision has been demanded, we may expect to hear in the future of further development in the Jesuit system.

It cannot be denied that the Jesuits have not had the same brilliant success as educators in the nineteenth century, as during the centuries preceding the suppression of the Order. How is this to be explained? The opponents of the Order are ready with an answer: “It is because the Jesuits have not kept up with the progress of the age. Their whole system is not suited to modern times.” Even such as are not hostile to the Society, have said that the Old Society took with it into its grave the secret of its educational success. However, a short reflection will give us the true explanation.

The time of the suppression, a period of forty years, forms a gap in the educational history of the Society. These blank pages, as Father Hughes says, signify the total loss of property and position, with a severance in many places of the educational traditions for almost sixty years, and the entire destruction of them in many other parts.⁠[405] Restored, the Society had to struggle into existence under altered and unfavorable conditions. The schools in about seven hundred cities and towns, which the Order had possessed before its suppression, were now largely in the hands of State authorities. And besides, the nineteenth century was not a time of undisturbed peace [201]for the Jesuits. There was a persecution going on against them nearly all the time in one country or other. They were expelled from Spain in 1821, re-admitted, but driven out again in 1835 and 1868; expelled from Belgium 1818, from Russia 1820, from Naples 1820, from France 1830 and 1880, from Portugal 1834, from the Argentine Republic 1848, from Switzerland 1847, from Austria 1848, from Italy 1848 and 1859, from New Granada 1850 and 1859, from Guatemala 1871, from Germany 1872, from Nicaragua 1881, from Costa Rica 1884, harassed in Spain and Portugal during the last years, and driven out of France owing to the “Laws of Associations.”

All these persecutions seriously hampered the educational work of the Jesuits. They frequently lost a number of flourishing colleges forever, others had to be commenced anew, when they were allowed to return. Besides, in many cases, expulsion meant the loss of libraries, observatories, and laboratories. Still, in spite of these difficulties, at the end of the nineteenth century, they possess a respectable number of colleges, scattered all over the world, from Zi-ka-wei in China to Beirut in Syria, from Australia to England and Ireland, from Argentina and Chili to Canada.

The development of the colleges of the Society in the United States deserves a brief sketch. The first Jesuit school in this country was opened in New York. A Jesuit was the first priest, so far as records go, who ever visited (1644) the island of Manhattan, now a part of the city of New York.⁠[406] He was the saintly French missionary, Father Isaac Jogues, who was put [202]to death in 1646 by the Mohawks at Auriesville. Forty years after the martyrdom of Father Jogues, three other Jesuits, Thomas Harvey, Henry Harrison, and Charles Gage, were invited to New York by Governor Dongan. These Fathers, true to the spirit of the Society, soon established a classical school in New York. It was situated apparently in what then was called “King’s Farm;” the site was subsequently leased to Trinity Church. Governor Dongan, himself an Irish Catholic, heartily patronized this school, which was frequented by the sons of the best families on Manhattan Island; the bell of the Dutch church in the fort was rung to summon the pupils.⁠[407] But the clergy and the people of the Church of England, not as friendly to the Jesuits as the Dutch Protestants, attacked the school, and penal laws were passed expelling the Jesuits and other Catholic priests from the island. It was enacted that priests “be deemed and accounted incendiaries, disturbers of the peace and safety, and enemies to the true Christian religion, and shall be adjudged to suffer perpetual imprisonment.”⁠[408] This law put an end to the Latin school of the Jesuits. The second attempt made by the Jesuits to found a classical school in New York occurred about the year 1808. The learned Father Kohlmann opened a little school in Mulberry Street, but in 1817 the Jesuits were recalled from New York to Washington, and it was only in 1847, that the College of St. Francis Xavier in New York was founded.

It is, however, not New York, but Maryland where the first Jesuit school in the colonies and the first [203]Jesuit college in the United States was founded. In 1634 two Jesuit Fathers landed in the province which George Calvert, Lord Baltimore, had obtained from the English crown. It was this province, Maryland, “the asylum of the Papists,” as Bancroft says, “where Protestants were sheltered against Protestant intolerance.”⁠[409] But not long after, ungrateful men who had fled from other colonies, and who had been welcomed in this province, turned on those who showed hospitality to them, and a relentless war of persecution was waged against the Catholic settlers of Maryland. This hampered the development of Catholic education greatly. Still, zeal for higher studies was never lacking. In 1638, Father Poulton had been sent from England as Superior of the Maryland Mission. One of his first acts was the project of a seat of learning in the colony. This was about the same time when the initial movement was made to establish Harvard College. But how different were the circumstances in which Harvard and the Jesuit school developed! The one protected by the government, the other persecuted. And yet, amidst all the trials and annoyances, the Jesuits never ceased to labor for the intellectual training of the Catholics as well as for the religious. In 1651 we find their academy near Calvert Manor, in 1677 in or about Newtown Manor; for the trials of the times did not permit the school to be stationary. In 1746 the Jesuits were driven out of Southern Maryland; they crossed the Chesapeake Bay and immediately [204]opened their academy on the Eastern shore, at Bohemia Manor.

In this school two men studied who became famous in the history of America: Charles Carroll of Carrollton, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and his cousin John Carroll, the first Archbishop of Baltimore. As the institutions of learning in the colonies and the great universities of England were in those days closed to Catholic pupils, those who could afford it, went to the European Continent. Thus John and Charles Carroll went to the famous Jesuit college at St. Omer in Flanders, where they won a high reputation for their brilliant scholarship. After six years study in that school, John entered the Society of Jesus. Later on he spent a series of years as professor in the colleges of St. Omer, Liège and Bruges. The suppression of the Society filled his heart with the deepest grief. He went to England, where he was received most heartily by Lord Arundell and other English noblemen. But when he saw that measures were adopted by the English government, which more and more alienated the American colonies from the sovereign and parliament of Great Britain, Father Carroll patriotically resolved to return to his native country and share its trials and fortunes. The services which he rendered to the nascent republic during the war of the Revolution, especially his mission to Canada with Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Chase and Charles Carroll, need not be dwelled on here.⁠[410]

In 1784 Carroll was appointed Prefect Apostolic for the Catholics in the United States. He immediately [205]planned the establishment of an academy for higher studies. The outcome of this plan was the foundation of the College of Georgetown, near Washington, in 1789. In 1791 the doors of the college were opened to students. The first pupil to enter was William Gaston of North Carolina, who became a profound scholar and a great orator. He entered the House of Representatives in 1813, was a distinguished member of the Federal party, and for many years adorned the judicial bench of his native state.⁠[411] Among others of the pioneer pupils of Georgetown were Philemon Charles Wederstrandt (later on commandant of the “Argus”), Robert Walsh, an eminent writer who ably defended American affairs against the misrepresentations of English writers, and founder of the first American Quarterly: The American Review of History and Politics.⁠[412] When Washington honored Georgetown College by a formal visit, Robert Walsh was chosen to address him.

The college had been founded by Ex-Jesuits. Many of the professors had joined the Society of Jesus, which had been revived in Russia, and, at last, in 1814, Archbishop Carroll and the Fathers in Georgetown received with joy and exultation the news of the complete restoration of the Society. After this event, Jesuit colleges began to multiply. In the year 1900 the Jesuits conducted twenty-six colleges, the principal ones, besides Georgetown, being in Baltimore, Boston, Buffalo, Chicago, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Denver, Detroit, Fordham (New York), New Orleans, New York, Omaha, St Louis, St Mary’s (Kansas), San [206]Francisco, Santa Clara (California), Spokane, Spring Hill (Mobile), Washington, Worcester (Massachusetts). In that same year over fifty-two thousand boys were educated in Jesuit high schools and colleges all over the world, that is nearly twice as many as in Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Columbia, Cornell, the Universities of Chicago, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, combined.

Some of the Jesuit institutions rank very high, both for the number of pupils and for the excellent results which they exhibit. The German Jesuits, expelled from the “land of science and Lehrfreiheit,” impart a higher education to more than five thousand students in foreign countries. Their Francis-Xavier College at Bombay, in 1897, numbered fifteen hundred and twenty-six students; ten hundred and two Christians; two hundred and ninety Parsis; one hundred and seventy-one Hindoos; fifty-four Mahometans; nine Jews. French Jesuits have two colleges in Trichinopoli, East India. The one is frequented by eighteen hundred students, among them five hundred and fifty of the Brahmin caste. The English government in India shows the Jesuits many favors for their educational work. Not unfrequently the Viceroy, or the Governor, visits the colleges and praises the work of the teachers, and not a few Jesuits have been appointed University examiners.

In Syria, the Jesuits conduct St. Joseph’s University, Beirut. They have a printing establishment there which probably holds the first rank among those of the Orient. A French admiral calls it “a creation which is the symbol of the union of the two greatest forces in the world, religion and science; an establishment [207]which is the pride of France, as well as of the Catholic Church.”⁠[413] A Protestant Review in Germany writes: “The progress which, owing to this establishment, the Arabic literature has made, cannot be ignored.”⁠[414] The latest catalogue has four hundred and four numbers, of all sorts of Arabic and Syriac works, grammars, dictionaries, etc. Some of the works edited by these Jesuits, are at present used in the lectures in the University of Berlin.⁠[415]

Another great Jesuit school in the East is Zi-ka-wei, near Shanghai, China. The educational labors of the Jesuits in this institution have been acknowledged by distinguished Protestant visitors. In 1898 Prince Henry of Prussia, on his first landing in Shanghai, paid a visit to this establishment. He spent nearly a whole day with the Fathers, and frankly expressed his admiration at the splendid work they were doing. In fact, he was so impressed by what he had seen, that again and again after his visit, he would return to the subject and talk about the work of “those excellent French Jesuits.” It soured a few German fanatics somewhat against him, when reports began to be printed in the German papers, to the effect that Prince Henry had spoken kindly of the hated Jesuits. But this bigotry did not influence Prince Henry. Princess Irene, his wife, having the next year rejoined her husband in China, they paid a second visit to Zi-ka-wei, which is briefly related in the following terms: “On the 12th of March, 1899, Prince Henry of Prussia, and the Princess, his wife, arrived at Shanghai; [208]the next morning they hastened to pay a visit to Zi-ka-wei. The Prince told us that he had said such nice things to the Princess about the establishments at Zi-ka-wei that she wished to visit them at once.”⁠[416]

The following comparison, made by an English Protestant, Laurence Oliphant, speaks well for the educational labors of the Jesuits: “I was struck with the intelligent expression of the youths’ countenances in the Jesuit school at Shanghai, and at the evident affection they had for their teachers. Instead of cramming nothing but texts down their throats, they teach them the Chinese classics, Confucius, etc., so as to enable them to compete in the public examinations. The result is, that even if these native youths do not all become Christians, they have always gratitude enough to protect and love those to whom they owed their education, and perhaps consequent rise in life. A few days later I went over the school of the Protestant Bishop. The contrast was most striking. The small boys gabbled over the Creed in what was supposed to be English, but which Lord Elgin, who was with me, was firmly persuaded was Chinese. They understood probably about as clearly as they pronounced. Then instead of the missionaries living among them, and really identifying themselves with the lads, as the Jesuits do, they have gorgeous houses, wives and families. A Protestant missionary here, with a wife and four children, gets a house as big as Spring Grove, rent free, and £500 a year. And that is what they call ‘giving up all for the sake of the heathen’.”⁠[417]

[209]

This is clearly another proof for what was said in a previous chapter,⁠[418] that the religious state affords many advantages for educational work, at least in missionary countries. Here we must add that the educational labors of the Jesuits in those countries are not confined to higher instruction. Many lay-brothers give elementary instructions in the schools,⁠[419] and the priests give catechetical instruction in hundreds of such schools, which in many other ways are directed by them. In February 1901, fifteen scholars of Paris, Professors in the University or members of the Institut de France, among them the celebrated Paul Sabatier, Dean of the Protestant Theological Faculty, issued a declaration in favor of the religious associations. A list is added about the educational work in foreign countries under the direction of French Jesuits. The total given there is 3,923 schools, or orphan asylums, with 156,256 children, and all this is done by the French Jesuits alone. Of their 193 schools in Syria in particular, the Protestant Literarische Centralblatt of Leipsic says, “that they are now the best in Syria.”⁠[420] Therefore, that the Order is doing very great work for civilization, is evident. Of the 15,160 members of the Order (in 1900) about 4000 were laboring in foreign missions; and this work, in most cases, means also work directed toward the education of the native people.

In this connection we may quote the striking tribute, paid by an American politician to the educational work of the Jesuits among the Indians. On April 7, 1900, Senator Vest of Missouri, during the [210]discussion of the Indian Appropriation Bill before the United States Senate, made the following remarkable statements: “I was raised a Protestant; I expect to die one; I was never in a Catholic church in my life, and I have not the slightest sympathy with many of its dogmas; but, above all, I have no respect for this insane fear that the Catholic church is about to overturn this Government. I should be ashamed to call myself an American, if I indulged in any such ignorant belief. I said that I was a Protestant. I was reared in the old Scotch Presbyterian Church; my father was an elder in it, and my earliest impressions were that the Jesuits had horns and hoofs and tails, and that there was a faint tinge of sulphur in the circumambient air whenever one crossed your path. Some years ago I was assigned by the Senate to examine the Indian schools in Wyoming and Montana. I visited every one of them. I wish to say now what I have said before in the Senate, and it is not the popular side of the question by any means, that I did not see in all my journey a single school that was doing any educational work worthy the name of educational work, unless it was under the control of the Jesuits. I did not see a single Government school, especially these day schools, where there was any work done at all.... The Jesuits have elevated the Indian wherever they have been allowed to do so without interference of bigotry, and fanaticism, and the cowardice of insectivorous politicians who are afraid of the A. P. A. and the votes that can be cast against them in their district and States. They have made him a Christian and, above even that, have made him a workman able to support himself and those dependent upon him. [211]Go to the Flathead Reservation in Montana ... and look at the work of the Jesuits, and what is seen? You find comfortable dwellings, herds of cattle and horses, intelligent, self-respecting Indians.... I am not afraid to say this, because I speak from personal observation, and no man ever went among these Indians with more intense prejudice against the Jesuits than I had when I left the city of Washington to perform that duty.... Every dollar you give to these [Government] day schools might as well be thrown into the Potomac River under a ton of lead.”⁠[421]

When men who have been able to achieve the almost impossible, the education and civilization of the Indian, undertake the task of secondary education among civilized nations with the same zeal and energy, must we not expect that they will perform this successfully? If we add that, owing to their studies, special training and natural inclinations, they are even better fitted for the work of higher education, than for that of civilizing the Indian, is it then likely that they are so inefficient as some represent them?

Let us, then, see the results of a number of Jesuit colleges. I wish to remark, however, that the account in no respect can be called complete, or even satisfactory. What is given on the next pages, was found, sometimes accidentally, in various publications. More material was available about the schools of the British Empire, where the relative efficiency of a school can be fairly tested by the University Examinations.⁠[422]

[212]

The Tablet (London), April 26, 1902, prints the following:

“The following Catholic names appear on the Classical Honours list issued in April by the Moderators at Oxford. The names appear in alphabetical order.

“Class I.—J. W. Glasson, Corpus Christi; C. C. Lattey, Pope’s Hall; I. C. Scoles, Pope’s Hall.

“Class II.—H. E. Tulford, Balliol; E. J. Kylie, Balliol; C. D. Plater, Pope’s Hall.

“From this it will be seen that the Jesuit students from Pope’s Hall, formerly Clarke’s Hall, achieved a success which, considering the size of the Hall, is probably a record in the history of the University. The Hall which has room for only a dozen students, distributed over the whole four years’ course, was represented by three candidates at the recent examination, and all these were successful. Indeed, the Hall, which was opened by the late Father Richard Clarke, S. J., only six years ago, has had a history during that time of which very large colleges in the University might be justly proud. Starting with four students in 1896, of whom two broke down in health, the first examination at which the Hall presented candidates was Moderations in 1898, when one of the two obtained 1st class honours, and the other 2nd class honours in Classics. In 1899 the Hall secured one 1st class honours in Mathematical Moderations, one 2nd class honours and one 3rd class honours in Classics. In 1900 the score was one 1st class and one 2nd class honours in Classical ‘Greats’—the final degree examination; one 1st class in Mathematical Moderations, and one 2nd class in Classical Moderations. [213]In 1901, one 1st in Mathematical Greats, and one 1st and one 2nd in Classical Moderations. As nearly all these young Jesuits have been educated either at Stonyhurst, at Beaumont, or at Mount St. Mary’s, such excellent results, as soon as they are brought into open competition with the picked students of all the leading public schools, who are the holders of the innumerable scholarships in the University, go to show that after all our Catholic colleges are, to say the least, not so very far behind the best Protestant schools in the country, either in the soundness of their general education, or in the special culture of the classics.”

In Ireland there are several richly endowed Protestant foundations: the Queen’s Colleges of Cork, Galway, and Belfast, the last, one of the best equipped institutions of learning in the British Empire; the three Colleges draw an annual revenue of about $125,000 to support a score of distinguished Professors in each. The Jesuits conduct the University College of Stephens Green, Dublin. For many years University College routed from the field the Queen’s Colleges of Cork and Galway, and was surpassing gradually that of Belfast, although this one made a noble fight. In the two examinations of the Royal University of 1895, the Jesuit college won 67 distinctions, while the Queen’s College of Belfast gained a total of 57. University College bore off all the first places in mathematics, the first two places in English, and the first honors in mathematical physics and chemistry, in classics the first place in First Arts, and the first and second places in Second Arts. Of the sixteen medical honors awarded, University College secured nine, the [214]remaining seven were divided between her Majesty’s privileged institutions. This despite the many disadvantages of University College through the lack of laboratories and museums, which the Government at lavish expense has provided for the Protestant rivals.⁠[423] The success of the following year was equally brilliant. In the first and second Arts Examination of 1897 University College gained 51 distinctions, Belfast 46, Galway 18, Cork 6. Of the 51 distinctions 32 are in the first class (only 16 of Belfast’s), and among them first place in no fewer than 9 subjects. In the M. A. Examination three out of the four studentships awarded, five out of the six first class honors awarded, the only two special prizes awarded, two out of the three gold medals, all went to University College. It bore away 13 out of the 18 distinctions conferred.

In the B. A. Examinations:

Taking the whole of the arts examination for the Academic year, we find University College first on the list with 82 distinctions, as compared with 63 for Belfast, 25 for Galway, and 7 for Cork. And University College has a comparatively small number of students, many of whom can attend only the night classes.

In Autumn 1898 once again the little unendowed University College of the Jesuits outdistanced the endowed rivals, and this time more than ever. But it is not merely in the number of distinctions, though that exceeds the combined results of all its three [215]rivals, but in their quality that University College stands pre-eminent. The College got first and second places over all competitors in classics and mathematics, first place in history and political economy, and in modern literature. This last distinction is enhanced by the fact that the standard has been growing higher year after year, and this year the papers exceeded in difficulty any hitherto set.

The following list tells best the result:

AUTUMN:

JUNE AND AUTUMN COMBINED:

In 1896 the Jesuit college of Clongowes, in the Intermediate Examination, where 8877 students presented [216]themselves, held the foremost place of all the schools and colleges of Ireland with a total of 45 distinctions. Also in 1897 it outdistanced all competitors in the highest grade, winning the “Blue Ribbon” of the examination, the highest honor in the senior grade.

From India similar results are reported from various Jesuit colleges, for instance from St. Xavier’s College, Calcutta, the College of Darjeeling, St. Francis Xavier’s College, Bombay. Last year (1901), the number of candidates for “matriculation examination” in the whole Presidency of Bombay was 3806; of these only 1217 passed (32 per ct.). The Jesuits of St. Francis Xavier’s, Bombay, had sent for the examination 43; of these 34 passed (79 per ct.). In 1899 St. Joseph’s College, North Point, Darjeeling, secured the only vacancy, at the “Opium Examination,” and the first place at the “Accounts Examination,” with these two ten first places at the Public Examinations, which is all the more creditable as the College is but seven or eight years old. Most gratifying successes are reported also from the Jesuit colleges in Australia.

Coming nearer home, we have to speak of little St. Boniface College, Manitoba. In 1897 it could insert the following advertisement in the “North-West Review,” which is carefully read by the Protestants of Winnipeg, who could not challenge the advertisement:

“St. Boniface College. The only Catholic College in America that competes annually with half a dozen Protestant Colleges and Collegiate Institutions. In proportion to the number of its pupils, St. Boniface College has won more scholarships than any of its Protestant competitors.”

[217]

The Governor’s Bronze Medal has been awarded twenty-two times from 1879 to 1900. Seven out of these twenty-two times it has been won by a student from St. Boniface College. Considering that, during all these years, the candidates from St. Boniface College were in an extremely small minority—about one in twenty-two, or four and one-half per cent on an average,—this proportion of seven out of twenty-two, almost a third, struck every one, especially the opponent, as very extraordinary. Had St. Boniface won that medal, the most highly valued of all the University distinctions, once in twenty-two years, the Catholic college would have been doing well, would have had its fair share of success. Manitoba College (Presbyterian), the largest of all the colleges, which sometimes boasts of as many students as all the other colleges put together, has won the medal only three times. Then the proportionate value of Latin and Greek was lowered; the classics were a strong point at St. Boniface. But St. Boniface nevertheless secured the medal two years in succession. Then Greek, hitherto obligatory on all, was made optional after a long fight, in which St. John’s College (Anglican) sided with St. Boniface against this innovation. The result of this move, coupled with the preponderance of mathematics and chemistry over Latin alone, prevented St. Boniface from winning the medal for seven years, although its students often headed the list in special subjects. But 1899 and 1900 the St. Boniface students forged ahead again, and won the medal two years running.

During the vacation of 1900, a change has occurred in the statute that concerns the University scholarships. [218]Hitherto the winners of scholarships had been listed in the order of merit, with the mention of the college or school to which they belonged. Now all the winners were to be arranged alphabetically, with no mention of the institutions to which they belong. Several reasons were given for this change, but the suspicion has been expressed that the real motive was to prevent the Jesuit college from occupying so large a place in the public eye.⁠[424] It may appear unfair to make such a charge; however, such suspicions have been expressed by men who are not Jesuits, nor biased towards the Society. Thus, about twenty years ago, Albert Duruy said of the movement against religious orders in France and the Jesuits in particular: “Without proofs, without thorough inspection, they slander and accuse the congregations.... They do not try to compete with them, they find it simpler to suppress them.”⁠[425] In fact, the recent movement in France against religious orders has been ascribed, undoubtedly with good reasons, to the same motive.

A few years ago there was an attempt made in France to introduce a Bill to suppress the religious schools, which (at the expense of the State schools) were gaining more and more in public favor. A Parliamentary commission was then appointed which was presided over by M. Ribot, and which took a quantity of very valuable evidence from various witnesses. Nothing, however, as may be seen from M. Ribot’s report,⁠[426] was established against the Jesuits or any other religious schools; on [219]the contrary, they were in several respects held up as an example to the State schools, even by distinguished adherents of the latter. Such results were naturally deemed highly unsatisfactory by the anti-religious party, and accordingly for the time being the contemplated legislation was shelved. When M. Waldeck-Rousseau undertook it and enlarged it, he was careful to avoid anything so dangerous to his designs as another judicial inquiry into the facts.⁠[427] Now, if any proofs could have been found showing the inefficiency of the Jesuit schools, it is certain that M. Waldeck-Rousseau would have made the best of such evidence.

The fact that he says nothing of it, is a sure sign that no such proofs are procurable even by the minutest examinations. Hence it follows that the Jesuit schools were, at the very least, as efficient as the State schools.

Instead of proofs, such hollow and absurd declarations were made: “Religious possess an independence which gradually will lead to the usurpation of all authority. They dare even the dignitaries of the Church. The education which they give separates a part of youth from the rest, and thus the moral unity of the country is rent.”⁠[428] The question ought to have been: “Are the youths, educated by religious, by Jesuits, less instructed, less moral, less patriotic?” To this question the answer has been given decidedly in the negative. We shall have occasion to speak of the patriotism of French Jesuit pupils; their morality has been most favorably compared to that of pupils of other schools—whereas in M. Ribot’s report a distinguished [220]adherent of the State school system declares that in these State schools the pupils are “moralement abandonnés”. As regards the intellectual ability shown by Jesuit pupils, it will suffice to see the lists of the successes obtained by them in the École Centrale, the Polytechnique, the Military Academy of Saint-Cyr, and the École Navale.⁠[429]

The following statement will illustrate how the anti-clerical press fabricated proofs of the inefficiency of Jesuit colleges; it shows also that Jesuit pupils are not behind others in branches other than classics, mathematics and sciences. In 1875 a student in the law school at Poitiers published these facts: “A short time ago the journal of M. Gambetta, the République française, had taken the trouble to occupy itself with the Law Faculty at Poitiers and its students. According to M. Gambetta the said school comprises two clearly distinct classes of students: those from the Lycées, and those from the Jesuit colleges. The latter are good for nothing and obtain no prizes, whereas the former carry off all the laurels. Now in point of fact, at the distribution of prizes in the law school for 1874–75, which took place last Thursday, the reports show the following results: In the 3rd year, the 2nd prize for French Law and the 2nd prize for Roman Law were awarded to a Jesuit pupil. In the 2nd year, of the four distinctions two were given to Jesuit pupils. In the 1st year, all five distinctions, two medals and three honorable mentions, were awarded to Jesuit pupils.”⁠[430]

[221]

Within the last two or three decades, neither the Jesuit colleges nor the schools of the other Congregations in France were inferior to the State schools. The very contrary is true, as may be seen from the remarkable testimony of an anti-clerical writer in the Contemporary Review.⁠[431] The article, “Monastic Orders up to Date,” is filled with virulence against the religious orders, the Roman Congregations, and the Catholic Church in general. Yet the superiority of the schools of the religious over the State schools is candidly admitted. Speaking of the charges brought against the religious orders in France, the writer says: “The members of these communities have, it is said, taken elementary, intermediate, and technical education into their own hands, are successfully preparing youths for schools, professions, and university degrees, and supply both army and navy with officers. The official report on the Budget of Instruction for 1899, querulously affirms that they and their schools act as a sort of drain upon the natural clients of the University. But why should they not? They are more successful than their lay competitors, and more deserving of success. If the education which they give be very imperfect, and it is sometimes this and more, it is on the whole the best that is to be had in the country. Lay instruction in France is purely mechanical, that given by the Congregations is living and human. Both aim at cramming, but the religious teachers do their work efficiently and successfully, their rivals with a degree of slovenliness which is incredible.... [222]Under such conditions one is not surprised to learn that the Congregations supply one-fourth of the pupils of the famous École Polytechnique, one-third of the students of Saint-Cyr, and one-half of the graduates of the Naval School. The religious communities have fairly won these triumphs by dint of hard work under conditions laid down by their enemies and applied by their opponents.”

Twenty years ago the London Times had made a statement to the same effect, when Ferry tried to suppress the Jesuit schools in France. “We should have liked to see a frank admission on the part of prominent members of the Left, of the real causes of the success of the ecclesiastical schools. It is no use of putting it down to wiles and artifices of any kind. The perversity, or bad taste, or stupidity of the multitude will not explain it. The simple truth seems to be that the schools of the Jesuits and other religious bodies are better in many respects than their competitors. They satisfy parents and boys more than the Lycées do. The traditional skill in teaching of the Jesuits is not extinct. They are, as a rule, at more pains than lay professors, with many interests to occupy them, to know and study the nature of their pupils. It is their habit to pay attention to the morals as well as the intellectual training of the lads committed to their charge.”⁠[432] Such admissions, coming from such sources, speak volumes for the schools of the religious and of the Jesuits in particular.

These are a few facts about the results obtained by Jesuit colleges in recent years. As they concern colleges in various countries over the globe, directed [223]by Jesuits of different provinces of the Order, they bespeak certainly no inefficiency of the Jesuits’ teaching. Can we not conclude that, were there a similar system of public examination in this country, the Jesuit colleges in the United States would exhibit similar success?

On December 12, 1900, the Juniors of a Jesuit Institution, of Holy Cross College, Worcester, Massachusetts, defeated in a debate the Juniors of Harvard. The victory of Holy Cross was all the more remarkable as Harvard a week before had won the debate from Yale on the very same question, “On the permanent retention of the Philippine Islands.” On April 8, 1901, the Freshmen and Sophomores of the same College again came off victorious in a debate with a Freshman-Sophomore team of Brown University.⁠[433]—Although we do not want to draw from such debates any conclusions for the superiority of the Jesuit college, still they deserve to be recorded, because the Jesuit college was victorious over Harvard, shortly after the President of Harvard University had charged the Jesuit colleges with inefficiency.⁠[434]

[224]

The American Ecclesiastical Review, August 1900, gave an account of the controversy between President Eliot and the Jesuit colleges, in which it was proved that the President’s charges were not based on any facts which could justify his measures against the Jesuit institutions. Professor Eliot had declared, “we have had experience at the Law School of a considerable number of graduates of Holy Cross and Boston, and these graduates have not, as a rule, made good records at the School.” Now the truth is that in the ten years preceding the time of the final decision of the Law School regarding Boston College (March, 1898), there were only three graduates of Boston College in the Law School, of whom one left after two years, one left with an excellent record after one year on account of ill-health, and one completed the course and received his diploma. In all the time before these [225]ten years, only two or three graduates of Boston College entered the Law School. The facts in the case, therefore, do not bear out President Eliot’s statement that “a considerable number of Boston College graduates have been at the Law School and have made poor records.” President Eliot has at several times given as his reason for the rejection of Boston College and Holy Cross, that their students were inferior. This charge has been answered by Father Brosnahan in his paper on The Relative Merits of Courses in Catholic and non-Catholic Colleges for the Baccalaureate, read before the conference of Catholic Colleges April 1901 at Chicago.⁠[435] From the preceding data we may certainly conclude that so far the “inferiority” of Jesuit schools has not yet been proved, and that the facts do not warrant the assertions about the “inefficiency of the Jesuit system for modern times.”

In connection with the educational labors of the Jesuits in the nineteenth century, we must not fail to mention briefly their literary and scientific work during that period. There are several reasons for treating of this in a work on Jesuit education. First, because the Jesuit scholars are a product of the Jesuit system; secondly, because some of them were teachers in colleges during the greater part of their lives, and all for at least five or six years; thirdly, because their case proves how highly the Society values, and how freely it cultivates the various departments of science. It is easy to understand that the frequent persecutions and expulsions from many countries are most injurious and [226]unfavorable to the cultivation of science, which requires above all what the Romans called otium. Moreover, as the Jesuits lost in several expulsions even their libraries, museums, and observatories, v. g. the famous Museo Kircheriano in Rome, and the observatory where Secchi had served the cause of science for so many years, they were greatly hampered in their researches. It is all the more remarkable to see that the Jesuits achieved so much in the various fields of science, in spite of these difficulties. It betokens almost a heroic enthusiasm for science that these men patiently continue their investigations and start new enterprises, even in countries where the hostile attitude of legislative assemblies is like the sword of Damocles hanging over them.

In this brief sketch of Jesuit scholars we mention only such as were distinguished for productive scholarship within the last twenty-five or thirty years. Among the scientists of this period we mention first Father Angelo Secchi, who was one of the foremost astronomical observers of the nineteenth century. Educated and trained from early youth by the Jesuits, he soon became known by his publications on solar physics and meteorology.⁠[436] He wrote several important works, among them Le Soleil, a standard work on the sun, Les Étoiles, L’Unité des Forces physiques, and more than eight hundred articles in scientific periodicals of Italy, France, England and Germany.⁠[437] He has been called “the Father of Astro-physics”, on [227]account of his spectro-scopical observations of the sun and the fixed stars. The ingenious meteorographic apparatus, a self-recording instrument for meteorological observations, which Father Secchi constructed, caused a sensation in the Paris exposition of 1867, and received the first prize (100,000 francs). The interesting instrument is now in St. Ignatius College, Cleveland, Ohio, where it is used by Father Odenbach, S. J., for meteorological observations. When the Piedmontese took Rome in 1870, the Roman College and its observatory were taken from the Jesuits. The new government did all in its power to separate Father Secchi from the cause of the Pope and from his Order. He was offered the position of Director-General of all astronomical observatories in Italy, the dignity of senator, etc. But all these flattering offers could not estrange the noble priest from his benefactor Pius IX., and his persecuted Order. He preferred to remain loyal to them, although he had to suffer mean and paltry annoyances. For the rest, the indignation roused in Italy and all over Europe, prevented the government from expelling Father Secchi from his beloved observatory. During an earlier expulsion of the Jesuits from Italy 1848–9, Father Secchi had been Professor of physics and astronomy in Georgetown College, Washington, D. C. This College possesses at present in Father Hagen a scholar who is highly esteemed in mathematical and astronomical circles. His great works, the Atlas Stellarum Variabilium and his Synopsis der höheren Mathematik, are most favorably spoken of by scientists.⁠[438]

[228]

Another prominent astronomer was Father Perry, Professor of higher mathematics and Director of the observatory of Stonyhurst College, England. He is especially known, as was Father Secchi, for his labors in the domain of solar physics. The English Government and learned societies sent him frequently on scientific journeys, and at the time of his death it was stated that he had been employed on more scientific expeditions than any living astronomer. He was sent—as Father Hell in 1769—to observe the Transit of Venus (in 1874 and 1882), further, to observe the total eclipses in 1870, 1886, 1887, and 1889. It was on the expedition of 1889, on H. M. S. Comus, that Father Perry died, a martyr for the cause of science. Scientific men spoke with admiration of the painstaking preparations of his expeditions, his accuracy and skill in observations, and his enthusiastic love for [229]science.⁠[439] Among the living astronomers in England Fathers Sidegreaves and Cortie deserve to be mentioned.

In recent years the Society has extensively gone into the field of meteorology. Seventeen stations are devoted exclusively to meteorology, or at least making it a prominent feature. They are: Stonyhurst (England), Jersey (Channel Islands), Rome, Kalocsa (Hungary), Malta, Burgos, Manila, Zi-ka-wei (China), Calcutta, Ambohidempona (near Tananarivo, Madagascar), Bulawayo, Boroma, La Granada, Havana, Cleveland (Ohio), Saltillo, Puebla (Mexico). Some of them have a name. A few details about the observatory of Manila will interest American readers. It consists of four departments: astronomical, meteorological, seismical, and magnetic. The scientific publications of this observatory have been praised in scientific journals (v. g. American Meteorological Journal, vol. X, June 1893, p. 100; id., vol. XII, Febr. 1896, p. 326.—Meteorologische Zeitschrift, Nov. 1887, p. 366; Oct. 1898, p. 64, etc.). The commercial world in Eastern Asia appreciates its typhoon warnings. During the Spanish-American War, Dr. Doberck, Director of the Observatory at Hongkong, addressed the Weather Bureau of the United States Government, saying that “the Observatory of Manila is in the hands of men who possess very little scientific education and cause scandal by communicating sensational typhoon warnings to the newspapers in Hongkong.” The effect of this [230]accusation was that the Jesuits were forbidden to send out any such warnings. When matters were investigated, it turned out that the Manila warnings had indeed very often contradicted those of Mr. Doberck, but that the events invariably proved the correctness of the Manila observations. The Eastern newspapers: The Hongkong Telegraph, China Mail, Manila Times, Daily Press, strongly denounced Dr. Doberck, and rendered a brilliant testimony to the labors of the Jesuits, and especially their invaluable typhoon warnings. On November 2, 1898, the Rev. Jos. Algué, Director of the Observatory, received the following notice: “Rear-Admiral Dewey desires me to thank you for your courtesy in giving him such complete information concerning your typhoon predictions, which he has found in every case to be correct. (Signed) Flag Secretary.” On February 2, 1899, a letter was sent to the Director of the Observatory, from the Flag-ship Olympia, which concludes: “I trust that the United States Government will make the necessary provisions for the continuance of the institution which you conduct in such an able manner, and which has proved itself to be so great a benefit to maritime interests in this part of the world. Very truly yours, George Dewey, Rear-Admiral U. S. N.”⁠[440]

The work done by the Jesuits at the Manila Observatory and all over the islands, may be seen from two volumes with accompanying atlas of thirty maps.⁠[441] [231]The work treats of the geography of the islands, climatology, seismology, and terrestrial magnetism. Professor Henry S. Pritchett, the Superintendent of the U. S. Coast and Geodetic Survey, tells us that “to the admirable work of the Jesuits is due practically all of our present knowledge of the interior of Mindanao.” Father Algué’s work on the cyclones of the Philippine Archipelago is the standard work on that subject.⁠[442]

In 1891 the French Academy of Sciences awarded prizes to the Jesuits in Madagascar, in recognition of their great service rendered by their astronomical and meteorological observations. Two years previous another Jesuit had received a prize of ten thousand francs for his geographical maps of the interior of the island; and last year, 1901, the very year which witnessed the expulsion of the Jesuits from the Republic, another Jesuit, Father Stanislaus Chevalier, by unanimous vote of the commission of the French Academy, received the prize of 3000 francs for his meteorological [232]and astronomical publications.⁠[443] In a recent work, “Kiautschou”, published with the co-operation of the German Emperor, a high tribute is paid to the scientific labors, especially the astronomical and meteorological observations, of the Jesuits in Zi-ka-wei, and the German official who bestows this eulogy on them, declares that he is not a friend of the Jesuits.

In other fields of natural sciences, the Jesuits are working most diligently, and their labors are appreciated by the scientific world. “The best book on mechanics is that of the Jesuit Jullien,” so says a Protestant scholar.⁠[444] Another writes of an Austrian Jesuit: “Father Braun, the distinguished Director of the Observatory of Kalocsa in Hungary, furnished some of the most ingenious experiments for establishing the density of the earth. His works are a remarkable proof for the scientific energy of the man, and the spirit of sacrifice for the sake of science.”⁠[445] In June 1900, Father Hillig of Canisius College, Buffalo (New York), published a catalogue of the most prominent Jesuit museums. He enumerates about sixty, scattered all over the world.

Several Jesuits are distinguished biologists, among them the German Father Erich Wasmann, one of the foremost entomologists of modern times. His numerous publications on the beetles living commensally with ants and termites, have been styled “classic” by the leading English, German and French scientific [233]reviews.⁠[446] Of his work on “Arthropoda” the Canadian Entomologist says: “Dr. Wasmann has given us the greatest contribution on this interesting subject ever made, and one that must become a classic in Entomology.”⁠[447] Other prominent biologists are the French Father Panthel who received the prix de Thore from the Institut de France for an anatomical work published in 1898; the Dutch Father Bolsius, an authority in microscopic anatomy; the Belgian Father Dierkx, whose important researches on morphology are published in La Celulle (Louvain, 1890–1900). These names suffice to prove that the Jesuits are by no means “enemies of progress and intolerant of everything new,” as M. Compayré represents them.

Other departments of modern science are successfully cultivated by Jesuits. We mention only Father Strassmaier, who by experts is called one of the first Assyriologists.⁠[448] Recently Father Dahlmann is becoming very prominent by publications on Indian and Chinese philosophy. His works have been greatly praised by Professor Max Müller of Oxford and other Orientalists. On the field of literature we call attention to a recent production of the German Jesuit Baumgartner: History of Universal Literature.⁠[449] Seldom [234]has a work been praised so highly by men of the different creeds and nationalities. Protestant reviews have been, we may say, as enthusiastic as those of Catholics, on this “opera gigantesca”, as an Italian reviewer has styled it. One Protestant Review (Westermann’s Monatshefte) says: “No similar work can be compared to Baumgartner’s in thoroughness, variety, and above all in directness.”⁠[450] The same author has published some splendid volumes on Goethe (3 vols.), Lessing, Calderon, Jost van den Vondel, and Longfellow. Father Longhaye’s Histoire de la littérature française au XVIIe siècle (2 volumes) was awarded a prize by the French Academy in 1901.

A very distinguished historian is Father Ehrle, Prefect of the Vatican Library, author of the great Historia Bibliothecae Pontificum and co-editor of the Archiv für mittelalterliche Geschichte und Litteratur. Father Grisar is a leading author on Christian Archaeology. His latest work on the History of Rome is a worthy rival of Gregorovius’s famous work.⁠[451] The Belgian Jesuits continue the colossal work of the Old Society, the “Bollandists”, or Acta Sanctorum, a work of prime importance for the history of the whole [235]Christian Era. Of the sixty-two folio volumes of this gigantic collection, nine were published since 1845.⁠[452]

As writers on Ethics we mention Father Castelein and Father Cathrein⁠[453]; on philosophy the English Jesuits Clarke, Rickaby, Maher (Stonyhurst Series). Father Maher’s Psychology recently received the note “Special Excellence” by the University of London, and the author, the degree of “Doctor of Literature”. And this in spite of the fact that the book contains a very energetic criticism of the works most favored by the University, including, indeed, the writings of both the examiners themselves. We could add scores of distinguished writers on theology, but we wish to confine ourselves to publications which have favorably appealed to Protestants. In 1900 the Society conducted more than one hundred periodicals. Although a great number of them are chiefly religious magazines (as the ably written Messenger, New York), there are also several scientific periodicals. Some reviews, as the Month in England, the Études religieuses in France, the Civiltà Cattolica in Italy, the Stimmen aus Maria-Laach (with valuable scientific supplements), the Theologische Zeitschrift (Innsbruck), the Razón y Fe in Spain, the Analecta Bollandiana in Belgium, are representative literary and scientific periodicals.

A splendid tribute was paid, in January 1902, to the scientific activity of the German Jesuits. Deputy [236]Spahn, Judge of the Supreme Court of the Empire, and a prominent member of the German Parliament, pleaded in the Reichstag for the re-admission of the Jesuits into Germany. In the course of his brilliant speech he spoke thus of the literary and scientific work of the German Jesuits: “In whatever branch scientific progress has been made during the nineteenth century, the German Jesuits are distinguished contributors. In history we have Father Ehrle, Prefect of the Vatican Library, one of the editors of the Archives for Medieval History and Literature, and author of the great Historia Bibliothecae Pontificum; Father Braunsberger, whose Epistulae et Acta Canisii have been called by Protestant historians a most valuable contribution to the history of the Reformation. Then we have Father Beissel’s numerous publications on Christian art; Father Baumgartner’s magnificent History of Universal Literature, and many other literary productions by the same author. Father Kreiten’s critical essays; the many volumes of the Analecta Hymnica Medii Aevi by Fathers Dreves and Blume; the five volumes on Aesthetics by Fathers Gietmann and Sörensen; the philological writings of Father Fox on Demosthenes. Father Strassmaier, the Assyriologist, deciphered over three thousand Babylonian cuneiform inscriptions, more than any German Academy has ever done in that line. Father Epping found the key to the astronomical computations and observations of the Babylonians, and his work is successfully continued by Father Kugler. Father Dahlmann is one of the very first authorities in the field of antiquities of India. In natural sciences we have the famous Father Wasmann, the entomologist. In physics Father [237]Dressel is eminent, and in pure mathematics and astronomy Father Hagen, director of the Georgetown Observatory, author of the Synopsis of Mathematics and of the Atlas Stellarum Variabilium. We find among these Jesuits several prominent writers on geography, and it is only a few months ago that Father Fischer, Professor of geography at Feldkirch, discovered the map on which the New World bears for the first time the title ‘America’. The well-known moralist Father Lehmkuhl has written an excellent commentary on the new code of Germany, and was one of the first to advocate this new code. The various publications of the German Jesuits on the social question are continually working for the maintenance of the existing social and political order.”

Many other names deserve to be added to these mentioned by Deputy Spahn. Father Meyer, by his German writings, has exerted a great influence on Catholic writers in Ethics. Father Cathrein has published various important works on the same subject, and one of the very best works extant on the social question. On the latter subject we possess several excellent works from the pen of Father Henry Pesch. Father Stiglmayr’s critical studies of the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius Areopagita (he assigns these works to the fifth century), have recently been called “brilliant researches which have definitely settled this long discussed question.”⁠[454]

Between 1881 and 1900 the German Jesuits alone published six hundred and seven books, some of which are, as we heard before, classics in their respective fields. Three of these writers have, within the last [238]few years, been elected members by celebrated Academies of Science: Father Wasmann by the Russian Imperial Academy of St. Petersburg; Father Baumgartner by the Belgian Royal Academy of Ghent; and Father Ehrle, in November 1901, by the Prussian Royal Academy of Göttingen.

The favorable criticisms on Jesuit publications, quoted on the preceding pages, are almost exclusively by Protestant scholars of highest repute. Are these facts unknown, or are they studiously ignored, by certain writers who are so loud in belittling Jesuit education and scholarship? We readily confess that Jesuit scholarship has not yet regained that brilliant position which it enjoyed in the first centuries of the existence of the Order; the reasons for this have been mentioned. We also admit that the eulogies bestowed on the literary and scientific success of the older Jesuit institutions are not a sufficient guarantee that the Jesuit system is equally efficient in modern times. But we think this last point is proved by what has been said in this present chapter. It certainly proves that the Jesuits do not rest satisfied with the laurels of their predecessors, but that they strenuously struggle to keep abreast with the scientific progress of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The testimonies adduced are all the more remarkable, if we keep in mind the most discouraging circumstances under which the Jesuits had to labor, and the coldness and antipathy with which the works of the Jesuits are ordinarily viewed by non-Catholic writers. This leads us to a rather sad chapter in the history of Jesuit education, in which we have to speak of the opposition which the educational work of the Society had to encounter in all centuries.

Nothing in the whole history of education after the Reformation is more striking than the difference of opinions about, and the attitude assumed towards, the educational system of the Society. We have heard that the Protestant King Frederick II. of Prussia, and the Schismatical Empress Catharine II. of Russia, protected the Jesuit schools, at a time when the Bourbon Kings ruthlessly destroyed all Jesuit colleges within their realms. In the nineteenth century the Jesuits were repeatedly expelled from Catholic countries, as from France, and were allowed to labor undisturbedly within the vast British Dominion and in other Protestant countries. However, this tolerant attitude was not always taken by Protestant rulers. The penal laws of England against the Catholics are well known. The Jesuits were always mentioned as particularly hateful. Thus one statute under Elizabeth (27 Eliz. c. 2), provided that “all Jesuits and other priests, ordained by the authority of the See of Rome, should depart from the realm within forty days, and that no such person should hereafter be suffered to come into or remain in any of the dominions of the crown of Great Britain, under penalties of high treason.”

Special laws were enacted to prevent Catholics from sending their children to foreign schools. “Any other of her majesty’s subjects,” says the same statute, [240]“who hereafter shall be brought up in any foreign popish seminary, who within six months after proclamation does not return into the realm, shall be adjudged a traitor. Persons, directly or indirectly, contributing to the maintenance of Romish ecclesiastics or popish seminaries beyond the sea incur the penalties of praemunire. And still further this statute enacts, that no one during her majesty’s life shall send his child or ward beyond the sea, without special license, under forfeiture of one hundred pounds for every offence.”⁠[455] James I. had a law passed providing that “persons going beyond sea to any Jesuit seminary were rendered, as respects themselves, incapable of purchasing or enjoying any lands etc.”⁠[456] The same laws were enacted again under William III.⁠[457] The schools of the Jesuits on the continent which were chiefly affected by these laws, were the great colleges of St. Omer and Liège.

In various places on the continent laws were made forbidding parents to send their children to Jesuit schools. Thus Duke Ulrich of Brunswick, “moved by his paternal care and affection for all his subjects, high and low, in order to counteract the cunning plans and bloody designs of the enemies of the Gospel, particularly of the Jesuits,” issued a decree in 1617, strictly forbidding his subjects to send their children to Jesuit schools, as not a few had done before. Those who should in future “act so inconsiderately,” were threatened with confiscation of all their property and [241]other penalties.⁠[458] Similar laws, enacted in Brandenburg and Prussia, have been mentioned in a previous chapter.⁠[459]

But the difference in public opinion is not less remarkable than that manifested by the attitude of governments and rulers towards the Society. No other institution has been so often the theme of the most high-flown panegyric and of the most bitter invective as the Society of Jesus. Its admirers, and not a few Protestants were among these, have proclaimed it as an establishment of the utmost utility to learning, morals, religion, and state. It may even be admitted that some have been extravagant in their praises of the Society and its labors. On the other hand, its enemies see in it an assemblage of ambitious men who, under the disguise of hypocrisy, aim at nothing but universal dominion, which they endeavor to obtain by most odious and criminal means, to the detriment of morality, religion and society. “Perhaps no body of men in Europe,” says Quick, “have been so hated as the Jesuits.”⁠[460]

So many accusations have been advanced against the Jesuits that it would take a volume of considerable size merely to enumerate them. Years ago Bishop Ketteler of Mentz publicly remonstrated against “that continued crime of systematic calumny against the Society.” The Jesuits have been defended and exonerated [242]of the charges by thousands of prominent Catholics and by distinguished Protestants, and yet the muddy stream of calumny flows on; the old charges are repeated and new ones are fabricated almost daily, and believed. It is customary now-a-days to sneer at the credulity of former ages, at the superstition of the Middle Ages, and the witch panic of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. However, our age has little reason to look down superciliously on the benighted people of times gone by, for there is among us, and even in circles that lay claim to enlightenment, a great deal of superstition and credulity; only the forms and the objects of credulity are different from those of former ages. In fact, the “Jesuit panic” has been called a chronic disease of modern times, and the credulity manifested in accepting implicitly the most absurd charges against the Society is stupendous.

Whenever a person is indicted for a crime we demand that he be given a fair trial; we want to hear and examine impartially the whole of the evidence against him, before we pronounce him guilty. In the case of the Society of Jesus, we have a body of fifteen thousand men, who devote their lives to the propagation of Christianity, the civilization of savages, and the education of youth. Almost every day they are maligned in books, papers and public speeches. No evidence is asked for; the ordinary demands of prudence and justice are set aside; it is enough to hurl accusations against the Jesuits, and thousands and tens of thousands willingly believe them. This is no exaggeration. One need only read the most popular books on education to become convinced of [243]this fact. The open calumnies and malicious insinuations against that work of the Society, which is especially dear to every Jesuit, viz. the education of youth, are simply appalling.

It is impossible for us to mention all the charges made against the educational system of the Jesuits; nor do we think it necessary. For, some accusations are so ridiculous that to hear them stated, should be enough for any thoughtful man to disbelieve them. Further, they are so clearly opposed to the fundamental principles of the Order, and so emphatically contradicted by its official documents, that it is difficult to see how men can, for a moment, consider them even probable. Lastly, they are so varied and so contradictory that they easily elude us. What one says, is directly or indirectly denied by another. It will be very instructive to put a few statements in parallel columns.

The curriculum of Jesuit colleges “has remained almost unchanged for four hundred years, disregarding some trifling concessions made to natural sciences.”—President Eliot, Atlantic Monthly, October 1899.

These quotations may suffice to show how little the adversaries of the Jesuits agree in their estimations of most important points of the educational system of the Society. We need not examine all charges in detail; we can leave them to themselves, reminding the reader of a passage in the Gospel of St. Mark (14, 56): “Many bore false witness against him, and their evidences were not agreeing.” If in no other point, at least in this one, the Jesuits resemble him whose name they bear, and whom they profess and endeavor to follow.

A few accusations, however, must be examined here on account of their serious character. The first is that the Jesuits did not care for the instruction of the people, because they thought “the ignorance of the people the best safeguard of faith;” that they “administered [248]only the aristocratic education of the higher classes.”⁠[461] This is utterly false. That the Jesuits could not devote themselves extensively to elementary education has been accounted for in a previous chapter.⁠[462] As to the other charge, in their higher schools there were always many poor pupils; it is frequently inculcated in the documents of the Society to treat the poor pupils with equal, if not with greater, care than the rich.⁠[463] Father Jouvancy exhorts the teacher “to exhibit a parent’s tender care particularly towards needy pupils.”⁠[464] Further, the Society had special boarding schools for poor scholars; domus pauperum, or convictus pauperum, were attached to nearly all larger colleges; in Germany and Austria at Würzburg, Dillingen, Augsburg, Munich, Prague, Olmütz, Brünn etc.⁠[465] The Jesuits not unfrequently begged money for poor scholars. Peter Canisius in one year supported two hundred poor boys. Moreover, they had special libraries to supply books for poor students and fed poor day scholars. In several places the Jesuits were at times severely censured “for favoring too much poor students and the sons of the lower classes,” as was said in Graz in 1767. In 1762 they were ordered by the Bavarian government to admit in future fewer poor scholars.⁠[466] The judgment of Quick [249]echoes the real spirit of the Society on this point: “Faithful to the traditions of the Church, the Society did not estimate a man’s worth simply according to his birth and outward circumstances. The constitutions expressly laid down that poverty and mean extraction were never to be any hindrance to a pupil’s admission ... and Sacchini says: ‘Do not let any favoring of nobility interfere with the care of meaner pupils, since the birth of all is equal in Adam and the inheritance is Christ’.”⁠[467]

It is said that the Jesuits “labored for those pupils who could pay them for their efforts.”⁠[468] In the Constitutions of the Society it is laid down as a strict rule that “no one is to accept anything which might be considered as a compensation for any ministry,” [education included].⁠[469] How this principle was applied to the colleges can be best seen from the following regulations made by Father Nadal: “The Rector cannot receive anything either for any instruction, or degree, or matriculation; nothing as a remuneration for the teacher, nor any present from a scholar. In short, nothing can be received, not even as alms or on any other grounds. Should the Rector hear that any one else has accepted anything, be he a teacher or an official of the school, he must see that it is returned to the person who gave it; and he must severely punish the person who received it.”⁠[470]

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In fact, this regulation caused the Society many serious difficulties. The rival faculties of other schools, who received payments from the pupils, saw in the gratuitousness of instruction in the Jesuit schools a great danger. By various machinations the Jesuits were forced in some cities to accept fees from the students.⁠[471] It is well known that at present most Jesuit schools are compelled by sheer necessity to accept a tuition fee, because few of their colleges are endowed. But it was different in former centuries, when the liberality of princes, ecclesiastics and cities furnished all that was necessary for the maintenance of the colleges. Nearly all historians testify that the Jesuits imparted all instructions gratuitously; some even blame the Jesuits for thus using an unfair means of competing with other schools.

The accusation of estranging the children from their families is as ungrounded as the former charges.⁠[472] It is also refuted by the fact that the Jesuits opened boarding schools unwillingly and only where it was absolutely necessary.⁠[473] They everywhere preferred day schools, because they appreciated the importance which the home influence—provided it was good and religious—has on the training of the character. Aside [251]from cases in which a boy has to go to a boarding school for want of a higher school near his home, especially in the country, it cannot be denied that other cases are rather numerous in which it is better for young people to receive their education away from home. In not a few families the father has no time to look after the education of his sons; mothers are frequently too indulgent to control self-willed lads. In such cases it is a blessing for a boy to be entrusted to a good boarding school in which not only the intellectual, but, above all, the moral and religious training receive due attention. Besides, much may be said of the advantages derived from the discipline and subordination insisted on in good boarding schools.⁠[474]

Of all the charges and imputations heaped upon the Jesuit schools, the most formidable is that they seek only the interest of the Order, cripple the intellect of their pupils, and teach them a corrupt morality. I am almost ashamed to refute such charges; for any such attempt seems to be an insult not only to the Society, but to the Catholic Church herself, who has so often praised and recommended the educational labors of the Society. However, as such charges are made in historical and educational works used extensively in this country, I think it necessary to say a few words about them. Hallam says: “The Jesuits have the credit of first rendering public a scheme of false morals, which has been denominated from them and enhanced the obloquy that overwhelmed their order.”⁠[475] And von Raumer, in his History of Pedagogy, [252]frightens the readers with a dreadful picture of the “dismal and perfidious colleges of the Jesuits, of these men of wickedness, with their dark, treacherous tendencies, so fatal to the souls of the young.” Dr. Huber, the inveterate enemy of the Society, remarks on this charge: “Raumer condemns Jesuit education from the specifically ‘confessional’ [i. e. Protestant] point of view.”⁠[476] On the other hand, the accusations which Dr. Huber himself made against the Society, are not more justified, and they have been discredited by a leading Review in Germany: “The opinion of some ‘Old-Catholic’ scholars, that the education of the Jesuits is a sort of diabolical system, tending to enslave the conscience and suppress every free movement of the mind, can no longer be maintained.”⁠[477]

Mr. Painter’s charges are among the worst and unfairest that have ever been hurled against Jesuit education; summing up his criticisms on the Jesuit system, he says, it is “based not upon a study of man, but on the interests of the order ... the principle of authority, suppressing all freedom and independence of thought, prevailed from beginning to end. Religious pride and intolerance were fostered. While our baser feelings were highly stimulated, the nobler side of our nature was wholly neglected. Love of country, fidelity to friends, nobleness of character, enthusiasm for beautiful ideals were insidiously suppressed.”⁠[478] These [253]terrible charges are made, but not proved. We can only ask with astonishment: How can a critical scholar, a cultured gentleman, a truth-loving Christian act in such manner? Who does not think of the striking parallel instance in ancient history, when the great teacher of Athens, whose life work it was to elevate and ennoble the youths of his city, was arraigned before a court for corrupting youth? He was condemned and had to drink the cup of hemlock. How many modern writers on Jesuit education are faithful imitators of the unjust accusers of Socrates and the unjust judges of Athens? They cannot despatch the hated Jesuits out of the world, but they poison public opinion and the minds of non-Catholic teachers. But there is another question which we cannot suppress here: How is it possible that enlightened American educators put any faith in such monstrous imputations? And how can they trust books which contain such frightful misrepresentations and calumnies? Wise people should suspect such charges, because of their very enormity; and they [254]should naturally think that, when some charges are so ridiculous, others may turn out equally groundless.

Those who are so positive in asserting that the aim of Jesuit education was “the interest of the Order,” might well be advised to ponder over a page or two of the work of a scholar of the first rank,—we mean Professor Paulsen who at present is equalled by few as a writer on pedagogy, and who has studied the Jesuit system more carefully than any of those writers who have the hardihood to raise such charges. In spite of his opposition to the fundamental principles of the Society, this writer severely censures those who represent the Society as a body of egoists and ambitious schemers. “It would be a gross self-deception,” he writes, “to imagine that the members of the Society were attracted to, or kept in the Order by any selfish motives or personal gratifications. He who should have sought a life of ease and pleasure in this Order, would soon have been disappointed. What was put before them on entering, was first a humble novitiate, then a prolonged course of rigorous studies, finally, the toilsome work of the classroom, or the self-sacrificing labors of preaching or giving missions. Suppose the powerful and influential position of the Order whetted the ambition of some individual; but he would soon have found out that, for every one without exception, not commanding but life-long obedience was the summary of the Jesuit’s career. He had to be ready to accept any position without murmur, and give it up the moment the Superior should command. This law of absolute obedience was enforced in the case of men of such merit and consideration as Canisius, the first German Provincial.... Besides, the Order would [255]never have been persecuted and prohibited, had it served the ease of its members; associations for such purposes have never been considered dangerous; those societies only are dangerous that try to realize ideas.” The author then adds: “Why do I insist so much on this? Because it disgusts me to hear again and again that men who, with the sacrifice of all personal interests, live for an idea, are accused of selfishness and ambition, and that by dull Philistines, who throughout their lives were seeking their own comfort and pleasure, or by ambitious place-hunters who think of nothing else but how to please those in power and to flatter public opinion.”⁠[479] These words sound severe; but have the men, whom they are meant for, not provoked this severity by unjust and venomous accusations?

Not a few writers call the Jesuit schools dangerous to the public welfare; one styles the whole Order “international and anti-national.”⁠[480] By the way, the same slander has been hurled against the Catholic Church; moreover, we know that long ago a great Teacher arose and founded a society. A certain class of learned men wanted to get rid of him, but did not dare to come forth with the real motive. Then they denounced the teacher as “anti-national”: “He forbids to give tribute to Caesar; he makes himself king and opposes Caesar.” And the judge was told that “if he acquitted that man, he was not Caesar’s friend.” The disciples of this Teacher were told that they would ever share the fate of their Master, and more than once in history the same futile accusations were [256]made against those who professed to follow the great Master.

Not a shadow of proof has ever been advanced that the Jesuits in their principles and teaching are unpatriotic, but more than one testimony has been given, proving that they possess true patriotism and instil it into the hearts of their pupils, and that Jesuit students yield to none in ardent and self-sacrificing love of country. Of course, there is no lack of assertions to the contrary. But recently Sir Henry Howorth stated that the English Jesuits shared the anti-English views of their brethren on the continent, and he entreated English parents to keep their children away from Jesuit schools where they imbibed hatred against their own country.⁠[481] A Roman Catholic layman in England wrote to the London Times, December 4, 1901, with reference to this attack on the Jesuits: “The moral [257]and religious teaching of the Jesuits is the same in England as on the Continent, but it does not follow that their political opinions or their estimate of public affairs in this country are identical. The English Jesuit is a loyal subject of his Majesty, and all his sympathies are with his own country. Sir Henry Howorth informs English fathers and mothers that it is nearly time they considered how much longer they are going to permit their fresh and ingenuous children to imbibe hatred and contempt for their country at Jesuit establishments. Here I can speak from personal experience of the hatred and contempt for their country which my three sons imbibed at the Jesuit College of Beaumont, near Windsor, and how it has influenced their after lives. The principles which the Jesuits inculcated upon them may be summed up in five words—‘Fear God; honor thy king.’ The result in after life was that they all three volunteered to fight for England and her Sovereign in her hour of need. One of them has fallen on the battlefield; the other two have survived to serve their country, and our name is known to-day to most loyalists in South Africa.” In fact, more than one hundred students from the Jesuit College of Stonyhurst fought in the South African war; three have received the Victorian Cross, and many of them have lost their lives; and more than one hundred have gone from the College of Beaumont.⁠[482] Another utterance, and that from a non-Catholic Review, deserves to be quoted in this connection. In the last number of the Westminster Review, Mr. Reade, speaking of the appointment of Dr. Parkin to draw up the scheme for the Rhodes Scholarships, [258]adds: “It is just possible that, if he will pay any attention to the teachings of history, he may find food for meditation in the system on which the Propaganda Fide and the English College at St. Omers [Jesuit College] were recruited during their best years. The latter school (now Stonyhurst) kept the English Catholics loyal English Gentlemen during the worst times of the Penal Laws. Many of them accompanied James II. into his exile at St. Germain, but it would be hard to find one who held a commission, as the Irish and Scotch exiles did, in the French service, when France was at war with his own country. We had no Regiment de Howard firing on the English Guards at Fontenoy, as the Regiment de Dillon did, and Wellington’s chief secret agent in Spain was a Stonyhurst boy.”⁠[483]

The whole history of the Society refutes the imputation of want of patriotism. Is it not significant that the two shrewdest monarchs of the eighteenth century, Frederick the Great of Prussia, and Catharine II. of Russia, protected the Jesuits? Would they have done so if there had existed even the slightest doubt about their patriotism? And, as to France, Dr. Huber admits that “the greatest generals, as Condé, Bouillon, Rohan, Luxembourg, Montmorency, Villars, and Broglie, have come from the schools of Jesuits.”⁠[484] The same may be said of many great men in Austria, Bavaria, and other countries where the Jesuits conducted schools. Also in the nineteenth century their patriotism has been publicly acknowledged. We quote the words addressed to the Jesuits [259]by King Leopold I. of Belgium. Visiting their college at Namur he praised them especially for giving the youth under their charge a truly national education. “I am much pleased,” he said to the Fathers, “to be among you. I know that you give the students a wise direction. Youth needs sound principles. There is nothing more important in our days, when men endeavor to stir up the passions. It is of the greatest moment strenuously to fight against the spirit of lawlessness which now threatens all order and the very existence of the states. What pleases me most in your work is that you impart to the young a truly national education. If you continue to educate them in this spirit, they will become the support and the mainstay of the country.”⁠[485]

When in 1846 the French Minister Thiers publicly attacked the education of the Jesuits on similar grounds, six hundred former pupils of the Jesuits, who then held high positions in the administration, in literary and industrial circles, came forth with the solemn declaration: “Our Jesuit professors taught us, that God and His religion have to enlighten man’s intellect and guide his conscience; that all men are equal before God and before the law which is an expression of God’s will; that the public powers are for the nations, not the nations for the public powers; that every one has the sacred duty to make all sacrifices, even that of property and life, for the welfare of the country; that treason and tyranny alike are sins against God and crimes against society. Would that all France knew that this calumniated education is solid and truly Catholic, and that we, by learning to [260]unite our Catholic faith with patriotism, have become better citizens, and more genuine friends of our liberties.”⁠[486] In 1879, Ferry introduced new laws to suppress the Jesuit schools. In the Revue des Deux Mondes (1880), Albert Duruy asked Ferry whether the Jesuit pupils had less bravely fought against the Germans in the war of 1870, or whether more Jesuit pupils had taken part in the Commune; whether especially the ninety pupils of the one Jesuit school in Rue des Postes, Paris, who had fallen in the battles of that war, had been bad citizens, devoid of patriotism?⁠[487]

The same question may be asked in every country where Jesuits are engaged in educating youth: Have Jesuit pupils ever shown less patriotism, less heroism, less self-sacrifice for their country than pupils of secular institutions? Was Charles Carroll of Carrollton less patriotic than the men who were educated at Harvard and Yale? Was Bishop John Carroll lacking in patriotism? And yet, John Carroll had been a Jesuit himself, and both had been educated in Jesuit Colleges in Europe. And we may safely challenge any one to prove that the American Jesuits and their pupils are less patriotic, less attached to the interests of their country, and less solicitous for its fair name among the nations than the teachers and pupils of other institutions. And we should like to know the facts on which the American writer has based the [261]terrible indictment, that in Jesuit schools “love of country was insidiously suppressed.”⁠[488] However, if such a calumny must deeply wound the hearts of all American Jesuits, they will know, too, that other Americans, and such whose words count a thousand times more than the uncritical assertions of certain writers, have thought and spoken differently on the influence of Jesuit education. On February 22, 1889, at the centennial celebration of Georgetown College, Mr. Cleveland, President of the United States, said among other things: “Georgetown College should be proud of the impress she has made upon the citizenship of our country. On her roll of graduates are found the names of many who have performed public duty better for her teaching, while her Alumni have swollen the ranks of those who, in private stations, have done their duty as American citizens intelligently and well. I cannot express my friendship for your college better than to wish for her in the future, as she has had in the past, an army of Alumni, learned, patriotic, and useful, cherishing the good of their country as an object of loftiest effort, and deeming their contributions to good citizenship a supremely worthy use of the education they have acquired within these walls.”⁠[489]

If the old saying holds: “Qualis rex, talis grex,” and vice versa, then we must conclude that the teachers themselves cannot be devoid of patriotism. Fortunately, we are not confined to this a priori argument. Numerous instances are on record that Jesuits, especially at the time of war, sacrificed themselves in the [262]service of the sick and wounded and on the battlefields. Not to say a word of the many cases recorded of former centuries, we mention one of more recent date. In the Franco-German war of 1870–71, the Maltese Society of Rhineland and Westphalia sent, besides the 1567 Sisters, 342 male religious to the service of the sick and wounded. Among these 342 were 159 Jesuits. Of the 81 volunteer army chaplains sent by the same organization, 33 were Jesuits.⁠[490] No less than 80 Jesuits received decorations, and two of them were honored with the “Iron Cross,” the highest distinction for heroic conduct on the battlefield. The patriotism of the French Jesuits is not less conspicuous. In every war which was waged by France, a number of Jesuits accompanied the army as chaplains. In 1870–71 several were wounded on the battlefield, and one died at Laon.

The attitude of the Society towards national and political questions has been clearly stated by Father Beckx, General of the Society: “The public and the press busy themselves much about the Society’s attitude towards the various forms of government.... Now the Society, as a religious Order, has nothing to do with any political party. In all countries and under all forms of government, she confines herself to the exercise of her ministry, having in view only her end—the greater glory of God and the salvation of souls,—an end superior to the interests of human politics. Always and everywhere the religious of the Society fulfils loyally the duties of a good citizen and a faithful subject of the power which rules his country. Always and everywhere she tells all by her instructions [263]and her conduct: ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s’.”⁠[491]

In recent years the attacks on the educational system of the Jesuits chiefly insist on the fact that it is “antiquated and unable to cope with modern conditions.” We quoted the words⁠[492] of Mr. Browning, that “little is to be hoped for the Jesuits in the improvement of education at present, whatever may have been their services in the past.” A similar verdict is passed by Buckle. “The Jesuits, for at least fifty years after their institution, rendered immense service to civilization, partly by organizing a system of education far superior to any yet seen in Europe. In no university could there be found a scheme of instruction so comprehensive as theirs, and certainly nowhere was there displayed such skill in the management of youth, or such insight into the general operations of the human mind.... The Society was, during a considerable period, the steady friend of science, as well as of literature, and allowed its members a freedom and a boldness of speculation which had never been permitted by any monastic order. As, however, civilization advanced, the Jesuits began to lose ground, and this not so much from their own decay as from a change in the spirit of those who surrounded them. An institution admirably adapted to an early form of society was ill suited to the same society in its mature state.”⁠[493] We think this charge has been sufficiently refuted by what was said in the preceding chapter.

[264]

How is this hostility to the Jesuits to be explained? It is not so difficult to find some reasons which account for the aversion of Protestants to this Order. Time and again they have been told that Ignatius of Loyola founded this Society in order to crush Protestantism. Although it has been proved that such a view of the Society is entirely contradicted by the Constitutions and the history of the Order,⁠[494] most non-Catholics still cling to their old prejudices and traditional views of the Jesuits. Even now many see in the Society the “avowed and most successful foe of Protestantism, and the embodiment of all they detest.”⁠[495] The Jesuits have been represented to them as notoriously dishonest and unscrupulous men, who teach and practise the most pernicious principles; they have been denounced as plotters against the lives of Protestant rulers, Queen Elizabeth, James I., William of Orange, Gustavus Adolphus. The mention of the Gunpowder plot, and the Titus-Oates conspiracy,⁠[496] conjures up the most horrible visions of those black demons who dare to call themselves companions of Jesus. Then it has been said that the Jesuits were the cause of the Thirty Year’s War, of the French Revolution, of the Franco-German War of 1870, of the Dreyfus affair.⁠[497] All such and similar silly slanders [265]have gradually formed that popular idea according to which the Jesuit is the embodiment of craft, deceit, ambition, and all sorts of wickedness. “It began to be rumored up and down,” complains Bunyan, “that I was a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman, and the like.” Last year it was very correctly stated by Mr. Andrew Lang, the celebrated Scotch scholar, that this popular idea and the Protestant dislike of the Jesuits is not based on historical facts, but largely on works of fiction. There is a certain picturesqueness about the mythic Jesuit which makes him highly important in works of fiction. Accordingly, a number of writers have introduced him with great effect, as Charles Kingsley, Mrs. Humphrey Ward, and even Thackeray. Mr. Lang himself rises above that vulgar conception of the Jesuits, and he freely confesses: “The Jesuits are clever, educated men; on the whole I understand their unpopularity, but with all their faults I love them still.”⁠[498] And the words of another Protestant deserve to be meditated on by all fair-minded Protestants: “Why should a devoted Christian find a difficulty in seeing good in the Jesuits, a body of men whose devotion to their idea of Christian duty has never been surpassed?”⁠[499]

But some Protestants will say: The Jesuits have always been the most strenuous and most successful supporters of the Catholic Church; hence they weaken the Protestant cause.—To men who argue thus apply [266]the words of the great Master; “You know how to discern the face of the sky, and can you not know the signs of the times?”⁠[500] Indeed, the signs of the time point to dangers quite different from those dreaded from “Jesuitism”. The dangers of our age arise from infidelity, immorality, and anarchy. What has become of the belief in the fundamental truth of Christianity, in the Divinity of Christ? That there are still millions of real Christians in the world, is chiefly due to the Catholic Church, to what they call the stubborn “conservatism” of the Romish Church. And the Jesuits make it the centre of their educational work and of all their labors, to strengthen the faith in the Divinity of Christ, and to propagate the Kingdom of God. They teach the lofty morality, the generous self-denial, which was preached to the world by the words and example of Jesus. They inculcate assiduously the most important civic virtue, obedience to all lawful authority. Therefore, all those who still believe in the Divinity of Christ, who zealously labor for the moral betterment of their fellow-men, who have the true interest of their country at heart—all those men should heartily welcome the Jesuits as helpful allies in their noble enterprise. There is, in our days, surely no reason for antipathy against the Society of Jesus.

However, considering the force of long cherished prejudices, we understand the dislike and the dread with which less enlightened Protestants view Jesuit schools. Their feelings spring from ignorance, and they are to be pitied rather than blamed. And every Jesuit will pray with Jesus: “Father forgive them, for they know [267]not what they do.” But what should we say of men who lay claim to critical scholarship, if they, instead of examining conscientiously the documents and the history of the Order, unscrupulously copy the slanders of virulent partisan writers, as is done by so many modern historians and educationists? Some seem studiously to neglect to acquire that information which is necessary and easily available, in order to understand this system. Of others one has reason to suspect that they write against their better knowledge, from fanatical hatred, not so much of the Society as of the Catholic Church. But then let them at least be honest; let them say that they are fighting against the “Anti-Christ in Rome,” against the “Scarlet Woman,” as their leaders were pleased to express themselves; let them confess that it is the odium Papae, the old “no-Popery” and “Know-nothing” feeling which inspires them. Well has a non-Catholic periodical recently observed: “We end inevitably by recognizing that all the reproaches with which we may feel entitled to load the Jesuits, in the name of reason, of philosophy, etc., etc., fall equally upon all religious orders, and upon the Church herself, of which they have ever been the most brilliant ornament. Why then address these reproaches to the Jesuits only?”⁠[501]

History has proved the correctness of these statements. In the eighteenth century the Jesuit colleges were suppressed. Not long after the monasteries of other orders were “secularized”. In 1872 the Jesuits were expelled from Germany; two or three years after, the other religious orders had to leave the fatherland, [268]and then the secular priests were persecuted, and bishops imprisoned. Since 1879 there was a continued agitation in France against the Jesuits and their schools. This campaign has now issued in a general war against all teaching congregations, in fact against all religious orders.

But this is not all; of late radical papers begin to proclaim the real intentions of the persecutors of the religious orders. One paper wrote recently: “Now we must not forget the Curés (Parish priests); after the monks let us attend to them.” Hostility to the Church, nay, to all religion, is at the bottom of the unjust and tyrannous proceedings against the Jesuits and other religious orders in France. For, whilst to the ordinary reader of newspapers the recent laws “appear to be a mere measure of self-defense forced upon the Republican Government by the reputed political intrigues of the Clerical party in France, it is in reality a systematic attempt to discredit religion, and to remove its checking influence upon the atheistic movement of the controlling party.”⁠[502] That influence was chiefly felt to come from the religious orders, particularly from the teaching congregations. Hence they must go. The hypocritical assertion: “We combat Jesuitism, not the Church, not religion,” is a mere ruse de guerre, a stratagem, used to deceive more fair-minded Protestants, and short-sighted or lukewarm Catholics. That this is no exaggerated party statement, is evident from the discussions in the French Senate during the last three years. It is also frankly [269]admitted by the more candid advocates of the new persecution, and by not a few far-seeing Protestants.

Here, however, a serious objection is raised: Have not Catholics, even high dignitaries of the Church, opposed the Jesuits? How is this? “Protestants are not ignorant that the Society of Jesus has been the object of suspicion and attack from influential men in the Church of Rome itself; that no worse things have been said of it by Protestants than have been said by Romanists themselves; that Romish ecclesiastics have in all generations of its history, directed against it their open attacks and their secret machinations; that Romish teachers have dreaded it as a rival and intriguer.”⁠[503] However, such Protestants should not fail to examine who these “Romanists” are, and especially from what motives they act when attacking the Jesuits. We do not wish to say more on this subject, but quote only the words of a distinguished French writer, M. Lenormant, who said: “Outside the Catholic Church opinions regarding the Jesuits, as regarding other religious orders, are free, but within the Catholic Church the war against the Jesuits is the most monstrous inconsistency.”⁠[504]

The opposition of Catholic schools to the Society is frequently looked upon by non-Catholics as the surest proof of the dangerous character of Jesuit education. They point to the hostility of the Alma Mater of the Society, the once famous University of Paris, to the Jesuits. But a German Protestant, a professor [270]in the University of Strasburg, not in the least partial to the Jesuits, writes on this subject: “This hostility evidently arose from jealousy, as the youths of Paris flocked to the schools of these dangerous and dexterous rivals, while the lecture rooms of the University were empty.”⁠[505] The same opinion is held by M. Jourdain, the historian of the University of Paris. He describes the scientific stagnation of the University in the seventeenth century, and the frightful licentiousness of the students, in consequence of which parents did not dare to send their sons to this school, but were anxious to have them educated by the Jesuits. The University combated this competition not so much by raising the intellectual and moral standing of the University, as by acts of Parliament, expelling the Jesuits or closing their colleges. The colleges of the University were on the point of being deserted, and this time the danger was all the more grievous, as a part of the Professors could attribute to themselves the decadence.⁠[506] Still the members of the University never ceased from accusing the Jesuits of being corrupters of youth and disturbers of the public peace. It is admitted also that the teaching in the University was most defective. But they reproached the Jesuits for inefficiency and faulty methods. The University, although tainted with Jansenism, charged the Jesuits with spreading doctrines prejudicial to the Catholic faith, with “rendering faith a captive to vain human reason and philosophy.” The historian here justly exclaims: “How often, in later days, has the Society [271]reversely been accused of being the implacable foe of philosophy and reason!”⁠[507]

The hostility of the Paris University was, therefore, merely the outcome of jealousy. At all times monopolies were jealous. Richelieu had perceived that clearly. Frequently urged to expel the Jesuits from Paris, he did not yield; on the contrary, towards the end of his life he handed over to the Jesuits the Collège de Marmoutiers. “The Universities,” he said, “complain as if a wrong were done them, that the instruction of youth is not left to them exclusively. But as human frailty requires a counter-balance to everything, it is more reasonable that the Universities and the Jesuits teach as rivals, in order that emulation may stimulate their efforts, and that learning being deposited in the hands of several guardians, may be found with one, if the others should have lost it.”⁠[508] In another passage Jourdain does not hesitate to state that the competition of the Jesuits soon turned into a blessing for the University itself, as it was forced to exercise a more active supervision over masters and students, which was beneficial both to discipline and instruction.⁠[509]

In Germany also and in other countries the Jesuits had to encounter the opposition of the old universities. The reason has been given by Professor Paulsen: “The old corporations at Ingolstadt, Vienna, Prague, Freiburg, Cologne, resisted with might and main, but it was all in vain; the Jesuits were victorious everywhere. The old corporations who were in possession [272]of the universities have often raised the charge of ‘imperiousness’ of ‘desire of ruling’ against the Jesuits, and many historians of these institutions have passionately repeated this charge, certainly not without good cause. But it must be added that it was not the desire of ruling that springs from arrogance and rests on external force or empty titles, but the desire that arises from real power which is eager to work, because it can work and must work.”⁠[510]

Another reason for the cold treatment of the Society by Catholics must be sought in unfair generalizations of individual cases. The Jesuits had always the privilege—or the misfortune—of being the subject of the constant pre-occupation of the public mind. They are watched closely, and they are, too often, watched with a magnifying glass. But if faults are discovered in an individual, is it fair to censure the whole body? Well has an English writer said: “The most splendid and perfect institution, if it grow, and occupy a large space, if many join it, will have among its members imprudent and therefore dangerous men—men who offer so fair a pretext to the malevolent for attacking it, that the combined learning and prudence of many years will hardly make good the damage done. The mass of men do not make fine distinctions; to distinguish with them, means casuistry, and casuistry they consider to be next door to systematized imposture. Point out some telling scandals against some member of a large organized body; be they only three or four, or true or false, repeat them often enough—and the public will pass the verdict of [273]guilty upon the whole, and condemn both the system and him who sins against it.”⁠[511]

Sometimes, indeed, it may be that individual Jesuits have, by their unfaithfulness to the principles of their order, deserved the ill-feeling with which they have been regarded. But in a large majority of cases, it is due either to prejudice or ignorance on the part of their adversaries, or else to an imperfect grasp of the Jesuit system, especially to the false impression that the Jesuits exercise an influence which interferes with the work of others and that they are a rival power in the government of the Church.⁠[512]

The utter falsity of the impression referred to has been proved more than once. In 1880 all the French Bishops, with two or three exceptions, addressed letters of protest to the President of the Republic against the decree of expulsion of the Jesuits. These letters form a splendid testimony, not only to the educational success of the Jesuits, but also to their loyalty to the ecclesiastical authorities.⁠[513] The Cardinal Archbishop of Paris uttered these striking words about the Jesuits, so many of whom labored in his diocese: “Among the religious institutes, there is one which has been more before the world than the others; which has done splendid service in education, which has shed lustre on literature, which has formed savants of the first rank in every branch of science.... Marked [274]out by its importance and success as an object of the hatred of the enemies of religion, the Society of Jesus has always confounded calumny by the splendor of its virtues, its intellectual power and its work.... To zeal, these generous priests have always united prudence. In the midst of the dissensions which trouble the country, just as the whole of the clergy have kept themselves rigorously within the limits of their spiritual ministry, the Society of Jesus has been scrupulously exact in avoiding all interfering with politics. Those who deny this, make assertions without proof. A Bishop like myself who has under his jurisdiction the chief Jesuit establishments in France is in a position to know the truth in a matter like this.”

Cardinal Bonnechose testified as follows: “The Jesuits devote themselves to the laborious and often thankless task of education. They open colleges; experience justifies their efforts; families entrust their children to them with the utmost confidence; year by year, public opinion and the government itself, testify to their success; year by year, they send forth into every career young men who have been taught to respect authority, who are penetrated with the idea of duty; who are fitted to become brave soldiers, conscientious functionaries, and honorable and useful citizens, and who are, every one, devoted to their country and ready to die for France.”—The Archbishop of Cambrai, Cardinal Regnier, spoke in the same strain: “Here I must make particular mention of the Jesuit Fathers, who are to be treated with special severity. On my conscience and in the name of truth, President of the French Republic, I bear witness that [275]these religious men, who have so long been abused, spit upon, and calumniated by the anti-Christian press with a malice which no authority has ever attempted to restrain—who are devoted day by day to the hatred and violence of the mob, as though they were an association of malefactors—that these religious are esteemed and venerated in the highest degree by the clergy and by every class of the faithful, and that they are in every way most worthy of it. Their conduct is exemplary; their teaching can only be blamed by ignorance and bad faith. Many of them belong to the most distinguished families of the country. The house of superior education which they carry on with such brilliant success at Lille, was entrusted to them—I may almost say, forced on them—by fathers of families who had themselves been brought up by them, and who were determined to provide for their children an education which their own experience taught them to value. I fulfil a duty of conscience and of honor in addressing to you these simple and respectful observations.”

The testimony of the Archbishop of Lyons will be of special interest. Cardinal Caverot writes: “It is the privilege of the children of St. Ignatius to be in the front of every battle. I know how hatred, and still more how ignorance and prejudice, have accumulated calumnies against the Society. But I owe it to the truth to declare here, that in the course of a ministry of well-nigh fifty years—twenty as priest, thirty as bishop—I have been able to satisfy myself, and I know that these worthy and zealous servants of God have well deserved the distinction given to the Society by the Church, when she proclaimed it, in the [276]Council of Trent, a ‘Pious Institute, approved by the Holy See.’ I admire these men in their work of teaching, and in the labors of their apostleship. Nowhere have I met with priests more obedient to ecclesiastical authority, more careful of the laws of the country, more aloof from political conflict; and I affirm without fear of contradiction, that if these decrees which strike at them have not made any charge whatever against their life and teaching, it is because not a charge could be made which would survive an hour’s discussion.”

There in no room for further extracts from these letters. The Dublin Review remarks that these manifestoes of the French hierarchy are precious documents for the religious orders; “but the Jesuits, in particular, will be able, from these utterances, to collect a body of episcopal testimony to their ability, devotedness, and deference towards the Bishops such as perhaps they have never before received from a great National Church during the whole course of their existence.”⁠[514]

In modern times it has sometimes been said that religious orders, in general, were admirably equipped for former ages, but time has progressed so fast that the orders were left behind and are now “out of date.” One Philip Limerick, who, as he affirms, was at one time himself in a monastery, states this view plainly in the Contemporary Review (April 1897). This writer admits that the Monks were the benefactors of mankind, by teaching the arts of civilization to the rude tribes of the North, and that the monastic institutions were the homes, for a long time even the only ones, of learning. But, he says, “omnia tempus habent, and [277]monks are now rarely met with, and of the later orders, the Regular Clerks, only one has left a deep impression on the Latin Church and obtained a place in history—the Society of Jesus. This Society owes its still vigorous life to its wider scope and more efficient administration.” Although this writer assigns an exceptional position to the Society, others include also this Order in the general doom. “We can do without the Jesuits,” was a saying of Dr. Döllinger, and his opinion is shared by some so-called Liberal Catholics.

That the present Pope Leo XIII. has other sentiments about religious orders in general is evident from his numerous letters. In his letter to the Archbishop of Paris, December 23, 1900, he enumerates all the benefits religion and society receive from their hands. He says that “the religious are the necessary auxiliaries of the bishops and the secular clergy.” “In the past their doctors shed renown on the universities by the depth and breadth of their learning, and their houses became the refuge of divine and human knowledge, and in the shipwreck of civilization saved from certain destruction the masterpieces of ancient wisdom. Nor is their activity, their zeal, their love of their fellow-men, diminished in our own day. Some, devoted to teaching, instruct the young in secular knowledge and the principles of religious virtue and duty, on which public peace and the welfare of states absolutely depend. Others are seen settling amongst savage tribes in order to civilize them. Nor is it an uncommon thing for them to make important contributions to science by the help they give to the researches which are being made in such different domains as the study of the differences of race and tongue, of history, the [278]nature and products of the soil, and other questions.⁠[515] Of course we are not unaware that there are people who go about declaring that the religious congregations encroach upon the jurisdiction of the Bishops and interfere with the rights of the secular clergy. This assertion cannot be sustained if one cares to consult the wise laws published on this point by the Church, and which we have recently re-enacted.”⁠[516]

On more than one occasion Leo XIII. gave expression to the high esteem in which he holds the educational work of the Jesuits, from whom he himself had received his early training. In the year 1886 he solemnly confirmed once more the Institute of the Society and its ecclesiastical privileges, exhorting the sons of Ignatius courageously to continue their work in the midst of all persecutions.⁠[517]

Before closing this chapter we may mention one explanation for the widespread animosity against the Society at which some may be inclined to smile. It is recorded that the founder of the Society, St. Ignatius of Loyola, used to beg of God continually that his sons might always be the object of the world’s hatred and enmity. He knew from the words of Our Divine Master: “If the world hate you, know that it hated me before you,” and from the history of the Church that this persecution for the sake of Jesus has always [279]been an essential condition for every victory won for the sacred cause of Christianity. No doubt, this prayer of St. Ignatius has been heard. Whether it be the Courtiers of Queen Elizabeth, or the Reformers in Germany, the infidel Philosophers of the eighteenth century, or the Atheists of our own days, the Communists of Paris, or the Revolutionary party in Italy, the Bonzes in Japan, or the fanatical followers of Mahomet, all who hated the name of Catholic concentrated their deadliest hatred on the unfortunate Jesuits. And what was more painful to them, even within the pale of the Catholic Church, they have sometimes met with misunderstanding and opposition. The Jansenists in France were their bitter enemies. The Liberal Catholics invariably stood aloof from them. At times even Bishops and Archbishops treated them coldly. Still, these persecutions were not without some good results. They kept the sons of Ignatius ever on the alert; and for this reason, the prayer of St. Ignatius manifests a wonderful insight into human affairs. Constant attacks prevent a body of men from stagnation and security.

In the “Introductory Chapter” we quoted this remark of a biographer of St. Ignatius: “The Ratio Studiorum is a plan of studies which admits of every legitimate progress and perfection, and what Ignatius said of the Society in general may be applied to its system of studies in particular, namely that it ought to suit itself to the times and comply with them, and not make the times suit themselves to it.”⁠[519] We assert, then, that this is the first principle of the Jesuit system: that it should adapt itself to the different times and countries. We do not treat here of single colleges; it is possible that some have not adapted themselves sufficiently. The question to be discussed here is a general one: namely about the system as such.

That the Jesuit system has not suited itself to the times is the criticism of some. Others go even further, maintaining that it cannot be suited to the times, or only with great difficulty, as it is altogether “antiquated.” [281]Here we may be allowed to ask whether men who make such assertions are sufficiently acquainted with Jesuit education. Some of them seem to have seen Jesuit colleges only from the outside; but an educational system cannot be fairly judged unless one has watched its practical working. It is very easy to make a caricature of a system which one does not know.

But let us, for fairness sake, assume that the opponents of the Jesuit system take the trouble of reading the Constitutions of the Society and the Ratio Studiorum, even then they may be led into serious mistakes, unless they pay attention to a few regulations which are usually overlooked. To say: the Jesuits teach only what is mentioned in the Ratio Studiorum and neglect what is not put down there, is altogether false. The Constitutions and the Ratio Studiorum leave great liberty in the matter of changes and adaptations. In his Constitutions Ignatius himself says: “Let public schools be opened wherever it may conveniently be done. In the more important studies, they may be opened with reference to the circumstances of the places where our colleges exist. And because in particular subjects, there must needs be much variety, according to the difference of places and persons, we shall not here insist on them severally; but this may be declared that rules should be established in every college which shall embrace all necessary points.”⁠[520]

Conformably to this fundamental law of St. Ignatius, the Ratio Studiorum emphasizes the lawfulness, [282]nay, the necessity of changes and adaptations. In the first part of the Ratio, in the Rules for the Provincial Superior, it is expressed not less than six times. Thus one rule reads: “As according to the difference of country, time and persons, there may be a variety in the order of studies, in the hours assigned to them, in repetitions, disputations and other school exercises as well as in the vacations, if he [the Provincial] should think anything more conducive to the greater advancement of learning in his province, he shall inform the General in order that, after all, special regulations be made for all the particular needs; these regulations should, however, agree as closely as possible with our general plan of studies.”⁠[521] This is evidently a most important regulation, proving that the arrangement of studies is practically committed to the Provincial Superior. A distinguished commentator on the Institute of the Society, in a recent work, could write: “We do not deny that in their methods of teaching, the members of the Order differ in many points from the Ratio Studiorum as we have explained it. It cannot be otherwise, since in the various provinces, owing to different conditions, it is necessary to make different regulations, without interfering with the general principles on which the Institute rests. We have already mentioned that St. Ignatius not only permitted but ordered various regulations to be made, according to the various conditions of time and place. This is much more necessary in our days, when so many educational schemes, good ones and bad ones, have been advanced. The Society, far from considering her own system absolutely perfect and unalterable, on the contrary [283]grants that many things are merely temporary and can be improved.”⁠[522]

This is what the Society itself thinks of its educational system. If the system has not been changed for three hundred years—it existed three hundred years, not, as President Eliot thinks, four hundred,—the Society has proved false to the principles of its founder. That the Society has changed its teaching in the course of time, is proved by its history. We referred in a previous chapter to the Revision of 1832 and later additions, and showed that the revision of 1832 was not considered final. But this general change is slight as compared with the many important changes, which were made in the different provinces. The four volumes of Father Pachtler’s work exhibit a considerable number of adaptations made in the provinces of Germany in the old Society. As an instance of such a change we must consider the systematic teaching of geography and history, which was gradually introduced in the 17th century, although it was not expressly prescribed by the Ratio.⁠[523] Greater in number and more far-reaching were the changes made in the new Society.

In this regard the demands and suggestions for a revision of the old Ratio Studiorum, sent to Rome before 1832, are highly instructive. There we read: “As the philosophy of Aristotle is no longer suited for our age, it should not be introduced into our schools.... Natural sciences were formerly taught as part of philosophy; but in order to conform with the exigencies of our times, all these sciences must be taught [284]separately.... Ethics are not to be treated according to the commentaries on Aristotle, but according to the best modern works.... The elements of Euclid do not suffice now-a-days, but in our age we must teach algebra, geometry, trigonometry, conic sections, differential and integral calculus, and the scientific applications of all parts of mathematics.... In the lower classes special care must now be had of the mother-tongue; the pupils must be diligently exercised in the use of their native language, and must be acquainted with the best authors in the vernacular.... In our times it will not suffice to explain the principles of rhetoric according to the precepts of Aristotle and Cicero, but according to modern authors; besides, now-a-days it is necessary to give instruction in aesthetics.... In the lower classes we must now teach history, geography, as well as mathematics; in the higher classes also archaeology.”⁠[524] These demands were attended to in the Revised Ratio. This may suffice to show that the Jesuits do not shut their eyes to the needs and exigencies of the times. In 1830 the General of the Society wrote to the superiors of the different provinces that they should not fail to call attention to the commendable practices of other schools in their countries; they should also be careful to mention, whether certain things were to be introduced in their respective places, even if they were contrary to the common customs of the schools of the Order.⁠[525]

The Society has never denied that vast progress has been made in all branches of learning, especially in natural sciences, history, and philology. It does [285]not wish a return of the conditions of former centuries, but gladly makes use of the advantages afforded by modern science, in order to qualify the pupils for the necessities of our times. If one compares the curricula of Jesuit schools in America, England, France, Belgium, Austria, and other countries, he will find the greatest variety. He will discover that it is a groundless charge against the Jesuits, that they cling with blind stubbornness to every detail of their Ratio. No, as far as it is compatible with thorough education, they have adapted their teaching to the customs of the respective countries in which they are laboring. As was said before, these changes and modifications are not added to the printed Ratio as amendments or bylaws; this is not necessary, since, as was stated above, the Ratio itself admits the necessity of having “different regulations as regards studies, according to the different conditions of time and place.” The changes and modifications are laid down in the customs and directives for the different Provinces or Missions. Now, the writers outside of the Society are, as a rule, utterly ignorant of the particular regulations of the various provinces; hence, they are easily led into the same mistake which a foreigner, coming to the State of New York, would make if he imagined there existed no law except the Constitution of the United States. As the General, and to a great extent the Provincial Superiors, by the Constitution of the Order, are empowered to make all changes which they deem necessary, it cannot be said that the Ratio Studiorum is so difficult to reform.

But it may be objected here, that what remains is no longer the Ratio Studiorum. This is not correct. [286]All the essential points remain; it is only important to know what is essential. The assailants of the Ratio usually suppose that it is the preponderance given to certain subjects, especially the classics, or the order and succession in which the different subjects are taught. Others again seem to find the essentials of the Ratio in minor details, concerning the manner in which the subjects are taught. We admit that it would be altogether impracticable to carry out the prescriptions of the Ratio in their entirety. Thus the Latin idiom can no longer be insisted on as the language of conversational intercourse among the students, as was done in the 17th century, nor is it possible to use it as the medium of instruction in all the lectures. Neither is it possible to devote the same number of hours to the classics, as much time and labor is requisite for the study of modern literature, mathematics, and the sciences. We admit further that some details of the Ratio, for instance the system of decuriones (boy supervisors and assistants of the teacher), certain solemnities at the distribution of prizes, the use of the grammar of Alvarez, etc., are really antiquated. But they are exactly those points which have been abandoned long ago, and which have never been regarded as essential.

The present General of the Society, Father Martin, who, if any one, is unquestionably warranted to speak authoritatively on this subject, declared on January 1, 1893: “There are men who think that the Ratio Studiorum was good formerly, but that it is no longer so in our times. He who maintains this position does not understand the Ratio Studiorum; he looks only at the matter, not at the form [the spirit] of the system.... [287]But the matter is not the essential feature of this system.”⁠[526] Neither is the order, the sequence, in which the different branches are taught. The subject matter as well as the order is in many countries prescribed by the governments. Although this prescribed order may not always be the best, still it can be adopted, as the order is not the characteristic feature of the system of the Society.

Now, may it not be said that modern conditions merely forced the Society and its General to this broad interpretation of the Ratio, to make, as President Eliot would express it, some further “trifling concessions”? By no means. The utterances of Father Martin are neither novel nor alien to the Ratio or the Constitutions of the Society, as is shown by a comparison with the quotations we gave before from these two documents. One point is made clear, viz., that the Ratio admits of a very broad interpretation, and leaves especially ample room for innovations as regards various branches of study. If it is useful and advisable to teach a new branch: economics, civics, local history, biology, or Spanish, or any other subject, there is no difficulty on the part of the Ratio Studiorum. If the Jesuits exclude certain branches from their curriculum, it is not because they are not mentioned in the Ratio, but because they consider these branches of less educational value; if they uphold certain other branches, as the classics, it is because they expect the most from them for the training of their pupils; if they defend the successive teaching of different branches in preference to the simultaneous treatment of a multitude [288]of unconnected subjects, they act according to approved pedagogical principles; if they do not admit the extravagant electivism of some modern school-reformers, it is because they consider it injurious to solid education, not because it is opposed to their system. We venture to say, they could adopt electivism to a very great extent, without entirely abandoning the fundamental principles of their Ratio. We shall speak of these principles in the next chapter. Suffice it to quote here the words of a writer in a first class literary review in Europe on the Ratio: “The regulations and principles of that system of studies, viewed in the light of modern exigencies, need not shun any comparison, and the pedagogical wisdom contained therein is in no way antiquated.”⁠[527]

Although the teaching of the Jesuits has not remained unchanged for centuries, it is true, on the other hand, that the Society was never rash in adopting new methods. The Jesuits did not experiment with every new-fangled theory, with every pedagogical “fad”, no matter how loudly praised and held up as the system of our age. Herein they acted wisely. For, first of all, there may be several systems, equally good, and the Jesuits possessed a system of their own, which had been approved by a remarkable success in former centuries. And that in recent times the teaching of the Society has not been unsuccessful, is sufficiently proved by what we said in the preceding chapter.

Whilst the efficiency of her old and approved system justifies the conservative spirit of the Society in educational matters, another striking proof of its wisdom in this respect is furnished by the fate of the [289]modern school reforms themselves. No sooner has one startled the world, than it is followed and overthrown by a newer, later, more modern system. To each of them may be applied the words of St. Peter to Saphira, which a German philosopher used with reference to modern philosophical theories: “Behold the feet of them who have buried thy husband are at the door, and they shall carry thee out.”⁠[528] We have an instance in Germany. In 1892, a new plan of studies was introduced in Prussia, and at about the same time in the other states of Germany.⁠[529] The classical studies lost a great number of hours. Although this plan was introduced at the urgent wish of the young Emperor and through his “energetic personal interference,”⁠[530] it met with great opposition on the part of the majority of teachers. No party was satisfied. The strict advocates of the ancient classics complained of the reduction in the classical instruction. The friends of the scientific schools were not satisfied with the concessions made them.⁠[531] On all sides the cry was heard: “Reform the Reform of 1892.”

In 1895 the Ministry of Instruction allowed the directors of the gymnasia to add, in the three higher classes, one hour a week, which should be devoted to [290]the old grammatical and stylistic exercises.⁠[532] Still more complaints were heard in the following years. In 1899 even Professor Virchow, one of the most determined opponents of the gymnasium in its old form, admitted that the graduates after the reform manifested a notable decline in grammatical and logical training. It was found necessary to convoke a new conference, which met in Berlin, June 1900. Here some of the ablest schoolmen were outspoken in demanding a partial return to the system existing before 1892. Dr. Matthias, the referee of the Ministry, stated that all official reports and the most experienced men of the Kingdom complained about the serious decline of Latin scholarship which had manifested itself after 1892. The cause of this decline he suspected to be the excessive use of inductive methods, so much encouraged by the reform. Efforts were to be made to check this decline; above all it was necessary to secure again greater grammatical knowledge, and it seemed better to introduce again some of the old methods, especially frequent translations from the German into Latin and speaking Latin.⁠[533] He thus recommended what the most zealous of the reformers had ridiculed as antiquated. Professor Kübler and Professor Harnack were not less outspoken on this point. The latter said that writing Latin was to be insisted on, and that the discarding of this exercise in 1892 was a mistake.⁠[534] The result of these discussions was a strengthening of the Latin course, by adding [291]one hour weekly from the third class on, therefore an increase of seven hours Latin weekly in the whole gymnasium. The new “School Order” of 1901 demanded most emphatically a thorough grammatical training. Books for translating from German into Latin, which in 1892 had been done away with almost entirely, were again introduced into all the classes.⁠[535] By these regulations, the Prussian Ministry, taught by the experience of nine years, and convinced by the arguments of the foremost schoolmen of the Kingdom, acknowledged that the “reform” of 1892, in several important points had been a mistake, a deterioration. It was thus proved that some of the much decried old methods were, after all, the best and safest.

Within the last decade a novel experiment has been made in Germany, that of the “Pioneer Schools” or “Reform Gymnasia.” These schools are to be the common foundation of all higher schools: Gymnasium (classical), Real-Gymnasium (Latin scientific), Real-Schule (scientific). During the first three years one modern language is taught, French in the schools of the Frankfort-type, English in those of the Altona-type. In the fourth year the schools separate. Latin is begun in the Gymnasium and Real-Gymnasium, English in the Real-Schule. In the sixth year the Gymnasium introduces Greek, the Real-Gymnasium English.⁠[536] Whilst a great number of educators vigorously oppose this system—some say “the experiment should never have been allowed”—the most advanced “reformers of the universe” expect great things of it; to them it [292]is “the school of the future.” Be it remarked, as a curious fact, that this modern system is not new at all, but a mere revival of the system of Comenius (1592–1671).⁠[537] The future has to show whether this system is practicable or not. So far its value has not been sufficiently demonstrated.

Our own country furnishes significant phenomena,—similar to those witnessed in Germany. People had been told that our educational system was well nigh perfect. American children, at the age of ten or twelve years, now learn things of which in former generations men of twenty-five knew little or nothing, be it physiology, biology, hygiene, civics or what not. And all this they learn without exertion and coercion; for, agreeably to the free spirit of the country, the young citizens are to be given, as early as possible, full liberty of choosing those branches which suit their good pleasure, or, as our moderns express it, their natural abilities. Indeed, what system can be more perfect? Now on a sudden people are rudely awakened from their pleasant dreams by most distinguished men, who tell the people that there is something wrong, some say “radically wrong,” in our educational system. Not a few of these critics begin to point out that one of the fundamental defects of American schools is the very thing which was vaunted as our greatest educational achievement: the elective system in secondary schools. Others discover the greatest danger in the hasty experimenting, in the rash acceptation [293]of novelties so common in our modern schools.⁠[538] “There is too much agitation, unceasing change, and consequent uncertainty in the operations of our American schools. There is too much individualism in laying plans and arranging courses and in methods of teaching, too burning a desire to say something new or to do something novel for the sake of prominence in the teaching body. Of course it will be said that this has brought us where we are. But we might be quite as well off if we were not exactly where we are.”⁠[539]

Within the last month (October 1902) severe strictures were made on some of the very latest educational “improvements,” and that not by Jesuits, nor by professional philologians, who stubbornly defend their long-cherished classics, but by such as may eminently be called men of affairs. The Electrical World spoke of President Eliot’s efforts to lift the American college to the plane of a foreign university. “The chief effect has been to push the college into the existing dilemma. It is crowded from above by the necessity for more time in the professional schools, and for a nether millstone it finds the secondary school that its own hands have fashioned. And truth to tell, the college is losing heart. It has virtually surrendered its last year to professional electives, but the sacrifice has not served its purpose. The latest suggestion from no less eminent a source than that of Professor Butler, of Columbia, is [294]for a two-year college course, leading to post-graduate training, and a parallel four-year course for such as may desire it. We hope this experiment may not be tried, for its success would mean the disintegration of the college as it has been, and the introduction of nothing to take its place.... If the American college is still to remain a part of our educational system, it must stand by its old ideals and neither retreat nor compromise.... If the college would do the greatest possible service to education it should sharpen its ax, not to decapitate itself according to the present program, but to hew out of its curriculum the courses that demand a diffuse preparation in the secondary schools, and out of these latter the time-wasting requirements.”⁠[540] The utterances of another man deserve to be quoted in this connection, I mean Mr. Cleveland, the former President of the United States. On October 25, 1902, at the inauguration of the new President of Princeton University, he earnestly warned against “false educational notions,” “a new-born impatience which demands a swifter educational current and is content with a shallower depth.” Mr. Cleveland declared “Princeton’s conservatism is one of her chief virtues, and that we of Princeton are still willing to declare our belief that we are better able to determine than those coming to us for education, what is their most advantageous course of instruction, and surely every phase of our history justifies this belief.”⁠[541] It is hardly necessary to point out what “false educational notions” are hinted at. From these criticisms of the latest [295]“school reforms” we are justified in drawing the following inferences:

First, not all school changes and innovations are real improvements. Secondly, a great deal of sound pedagogy was contained in the old systems, which was rashly and wantonly abandoned by many modern school reformers. Thirdly, the Jesuits acted prudently in not accepting in their totality these new methods which, to a great extent, are but haphazard experiments.

The Society believes in a sound evolution in educational matters, but is averse to a precipitous revolution. Those who recently have called the educational system of the Society antiquated or absurd, because it repudiates their own pet theories, have acted very rashly, all the more so that these very theories have been condemned by many competent judges. The man who lives in a glass house should not throw stones at other people.

In every important movement, the ardent desire of progress must be tempered and controlled by a goodly amount of conservatism. Otherwise the rerum novarum studiosi will sacrifice much of what is of fundamental importance. At the time of the famous Gaume controversy in France about the classical studies, an English Catholic writer characterized the attitude of the Jesuits in the following words: “Though essentially conservative, that remarkable Society has never held itself so far behind the current of Catholic thought, as to lose its influence over it; nor has it placed itself so much in the advance, as to become an object of general observation. It has, as a rule, firmly, cautiously, and with a practical wisdom, manifested [296]to so great an extent by no other order in the Church, kept pace with the general movement, and influenced its direction; and when it has not been able, through the unmanageable nature of the elements with which it has had to do, to lead, it has had the sagacity to bide its time and follow. It is this instinct which, though it may to ‘carnal men’ savor of human prudence, to men who see things through a spiritual eye, manifests the workings of a governing Providence through one of the most able human instruments which has ever undertaken God’s work upon the earth.”⁠[542]

The extent and limit of the Society’s progressiveness and conservatism in educational matters, has been clearly enunciated by Father Roothaan, General of the Society, in 1832: “The adaptation of the Ratio Studiorum means that we consult the necessities of the age so far as not in the least to sacrifice the solid and correct education of youth.” Accordingly, the Society will ever adapt its system in all and to all that is conducive to the great end of its educational labors: the thorough intellectual and moral training of its pupils.

In the preceding chapter we mentioned a statement of the present General of the Society, “that the characteristics of the Ratio Studiorum are not to be sought in the subject matter or in the order, but in what may be called the form or the spirit of the system.” Father Martin explained in what this form consists: “It consists chiefly in the training of the mind, which is the object, and in the various exercises, which are the means to attain this object.” In these words we have the intellectual scope of the Ratio Studiorum, in fact the intellectual scope of every rational system of education. This training of the mind means the gradual and harmonious development of all the higher faculties of man, of memory, imagination, intellect, and will.

The very meaning of the word confirms this view: to “educate” signifies to exercise the mental faculties of man, by instruction, training and discipline in such a way as to develop and render efficient the natural powers; to develop a man physically, mentally, morally, and spiritually.⁠[543] The mind is educated when its powers are developed and disciplined, so that it can perform its appropriate work. In speaking of one as educated, we imply not merely that he has acquired knowledge, but that his mental powers have been developed and disciplined to effective action. Education is, consequently, the systematic development and [298]cultivation of the mind and faculties. In these definitions we see that education signifies development, and rightly so, as its original meaning is to “draw out.” The fundamental mistake of many modern systems is the utter disregard of this truth. Father Dowling, S. J., of Creighton University, has expressed this very well in the following words⁠[544]: “Unfortunately education, which ought to signify a drawing out, has come to be regarded as the proper word to denote a putting in. Properly it supposes that there is something in the mind capable of development, faculties that can be trained, implicit knowledge which can be made explicit, dormant powers which can be awakened. The main end of education should be to unfold these faculties. It means not so much the actual imparting of knowledge, as the development of the power to gain knowledge, to apply the intellect, to cultivate taste, utilize the memory, make use of observations and facts. It is not essential that the studies which produce these results should be directly useful in after life any more than it is necessary for the athlete in the development of his powers to wield the blacksmith’s hammer, instead of using dumb-bells or horizontal bars, none of which play any part in his subsequent career; he puts them all aside when the physical powers have been developed.”

The Germans express the same idea admirably by the name they give to their colleges. They call a college a gymnasium. Indeed, this is what a college should be, a place of mental gymnastics, of training, [299]not for the muscles, but the mind. Education ought not to be merely an accumulating of knowledge, of data from various sciences, of bits of learning gathered here and there. This, alas, it now is in too many modern systems. “Give the pupils facts, broad information, varied instruction,” is their watch-word. And yet, facts, information, instruction, are only a means of educating, not education itself; they are, to use the above mentioned metaphor, the dumb-bells, the horizontal bars, the pulleys of this mental gymnasium, by the use of which the mind acquires that agility and nimbleness, that quickness of action, and last, but not least, that gracefulness and refinement which we call taste, the noblest result of a well balanced education. A mind thus trained and developed may then take up any special study. A young man thus educated has his intellectual tools sharpened and ready for use. He will accomplish more, and will do more thorough and successful work, in any line of professional or practical work, than the one who from the beginning took up special studies. Undoubtedly, the latter will get an earlier start in life; when twenty-five years old he is earning money, while the former has just finished his long course of training. But wait until they are thirty-five, then, ceteris paribus, the one who laid a deeper and broader foundation of general education, will be known as the more successful lawyer, physician, or teacher, perhaps even the more prosperous business man, and certainly the more cultured and more refined gentleman, one who exercises an elevating and ennobling influence on all who come into contact with him.

It may safely be said that one of the worst features [300]of modern educational systems is the tendency to cram too much into the courses of study, too much that is considered “practical” in one way or other. As Professor Treitschke of Berlin has expressed it, “the greatest danger that threatens the education of modern man lies in the infinite distraction of our inner life, in the superabundance of mental impressions of every sort that rush upon us and hamper the one prerequisite of all great work: recollection of soul, concentration of mind.” Hence he thinks it absolutely necessary that youths should be educated as simply as possible, and should not be mentally overfed by many and various things.⁠[545] It is, indeed, a most serious mistake to think that a person who knows all sorts of things is educated; no, sciolism is not culture. Consequently, that school is by no means the right one which “coaches” or “crams” for the future profession,—we are not speaking of the professional schools,—but that which trains the man, trains the mental faculties, develops clear logical thinking, cultivates the imagination, ennobles the sentiments, and strengthens the will. This, indeed, is educating, that is, “drawing out” what lies hidden and undeveloped in the soul. Instead of this, many modern schools aim at further expansion, which, considering the limited capacity of the youthful mind, is inseparable from shallowness. What is gained in extent of knowledge, is necessarily lost in depth, thoroughness, and mastery of the knowledge acquired. What is sadly needed now-a-days is concentration, a wise restriction of subjects which leads to depth and interior strength.

The educational system of the Society always aimed [301]at a thorough general training in a few branches. Four characteristic points are discernible in this training: it is to be thorough, prolonged, general, simple. It is to be thorough; for superficial knowledge, smattering, is not training. It must be prolonged; for thoroughness cannot be effected in a short time. Time is as essential for maturing a man’s mind and character, as it is for ripening a choice fruit; one may bake an apple in a few moments, but one cannot ripen it in that time. Education must, in this regard, follow the laws of nature. Time and prolonged and patient efforts are absolutely necessary in order to produce any success in education. In the third place this training is to be general, not professional; its aim is the man, not the specialist; it is the foundation on which the professional training is to be built up. It is, in other words, a liberal training; it has to cultivate the ideal, that which is really human and permanent in life. What is useful and practical will be cared for in time, and, as a rule, is sufficiently looked after. Lastly, this training must be simple, that is, it must be based on a few well-related branches; if too many disconnected subjects are treated, thoroughness becomes absolutely impossible.

The modern tendency in education is in the opposite direction. It aims at the useful and practical rather than the general training, or, at best, allots too short a time to the general education. Hence the very foundation of the practical training is weak. Besides, it comprises too many various subjects, the consuming of which does not effect a healthy mental growth, but an intellectual hypertrophy.⁠[546] It is showy [302]in the extreme, and dazzles the eye of the public, and even of some whose education and position in the world of culture should be a safeguard against such delusion. For these very reasons it is most detrimental to true progress. Far-seeing men, in this country as well as in Europe, realize the dangers of this tendency, and warn all educators against them most emphatically.

In an address on the occasion of the 27th annual commencement of the Jesuit College, Buffalo, N. Y., 1897, the Right Rev. James E. Quigley, D. D., Archbishop of Chicago, said: “We Americans are a practical people, but we are also impatient. We cannot arrive at our goal quickly enough. We send the boys to a high school for three or four years, and then we call them away and send them to the study of law or medicine. Now I would tell the parents: if you want to make a lawyer or a doctor of your son, let him finish the college course, he will be the better for it in his profession. We have now lawyers and doctors enough, what we need is better lawyers and better doctors.”

Dr. McCosh, for twenty years President of Princeton College, says: “There is a loud demand in the present day for college education being made what they call practical. I believe that this is a mistake. A well known ship-builder once said to me: ‘Do not try to teach my art in school; see that you make the youth intelligent, and then I will easily teach him ship-building.’ The business of a college is to teach scientific principles of all sorts of practical application. [303]The youth thus trained will start life in far better circumstances than those who have learned only the details of their craft, which are best learned in offices, stores and factories, and will commonly outstrip them in the rivalries of life. He will be able to advance when others are obliged to stop.”⁠[547]

Professor Münsterberg of Harvard University, in his article on School Reform,⁠[548] speaks admirably on the same subject. He points out the various fallacies underlying the system that advocates the earliest possible beginning of specialization. He ably proves that the pretensions of this system are wrong, and its calculations superficial, even from the merely utilitarian and mercenary standpoint. But above all, this system is to be condemned from the standpoint of liberal education. The Harvard Professor writes: “The higher the level on which the professional specializing begins, the more effective it is. I have said that we German boys did not think of any specialization and individual variation before we reached a level corresponding to a college graduation here. In this country, the college must still go on for a while playing the double rôle of the place for the general education of the one, and the workshop for the professional training of the other; but at least the high school ought to be faithful to its only goal of general education without professional anticipations. Moreover, we are not only professional wage earners; we live for our friends and our nation; we face social and political, moral and religious problems; we are in [304]contact with nature and science, with art and literature; we shape our towns and our time, and all that is common to every one,—to the banker and the manufacturer, to the minister and the teacher, to the lawyer and the physician. The technique of our profession, then, appears only as a small variation of the large background of work in which we all share; and if the education must be adapted to our later life, all these problems demand a uniform education for the members of the same social community. The division of labor lies on the outside. We are specialists in our handiwork, but our heart work is uniform, and the demand for individual education emphasizes the small differences in our tasks, and ignores the great similarities. And, after all, who is able to say what a boy of twelve years will need for his special life work? It is easily said in a school programme that the course will be adapted to the needs of the particular pupil with respect to his later life, but it would be harder to say how we are to find out what the boy does need; and even if we know it, the straight line to the goal is not always the shortest way.”

Mr. Clement L. Smith is not less outspoken on this topic⁠[549]: “An education which aims to equip men for particular callings, or to give them a special training for entering upon those callings, however useful it may be, is not the liberal education which should be the single aim of the college. It should be the aim of the secondary school, too,—if not for all pupils, certainly for those who are going to college. For those who turn away, at the end of the school course, to [305]train themselves for some technical pursuit, let appropriate technical schools be provided, and let them be held in all honor. But they should not masquerade as institutions for liberal education. Above all, they should not invade the province of the college, introducing confusion, and turning it into a place where there are a number of unconnected and independent educations going on at the same time, instead of a place where, though there are many paths, they all lead to a single goal. For the essence of a liberal education lies in the aim, not in the studies pursued,⁠[550]—not in letters, not in science. These are the materials with which it works; and employs them, not to make professional or technical experts, but to make men and women of broader views, of greater intellectual power,—better equipped for whatever profession or employment they may undertake, and for their equally important function of citizen and neighbor.”

The Honorable James Bryce, a man excellently fitted to express his opinion on American, as well as on European, questions, a few years ago, while advocating a special commercial training, warns against shortening the time allotted to general education, whether elementary or secondary. On the contrary, the further the general education can be carried, the better for the young man, and more would be lost by curtailing the time spent on the subjects which everybody should learn, than would be gained by any special preparation for a particular employment. He reminds the people of England and the United States that the demand for a commercial education might do more [306]harm than good, “were it to lead to a shortening or to a commercializing of general school education, or were it to dispose us to ignore the supreme importance of securing that the teaching of the commercial subjects themselves shall be so directed as to arouse and stimulate the faculties no less than to inform the memory of the learner.”⁠[551]

Long before this, Arnold had spoken in similar terms: “It is no wisdom to make boys prodigies of information, but it is our wisdom and our duty to cultivate their faculties, each in its season, first the memory and the imagination, and then the judgment, to furnish them with the means and to excite the desire of improving themselves.”⁠[552] The most enlightened and experienced German educators insist on this point as strongly as any of those whose authority is cited above.⁠[553] It is needless to point out the fact that these writers clearly and strikingly express the same opinion about the intellectual scope of education as the Jesuits, namely, that real education does not consist in merely imparting information, but in training the mental faculties, in the efformatio ingenii, as the General of the Society called it in 1893.

In this country the question about the intellectual scope of education is closely connected with the other most important question: What is the function [307]of the high school and college? Aside from the champions of extreme electivism, there is no educator of note who does not consider general culture the function of the high school. A great number of prominent educators do not hesitate to assign the same function to the college, relegating specialization, the acquisition of scholarship, or professional skill, entirely, or for the main part, to the university. The college should concern itself with the final stage of secondary education; it ought to stimulate general culture and to train character, rather than to impart specific instruction. A college President declared that the first step towards a betterment is the reassertion of the aim and nature of college life. The university, demanding for entrance a bachelor’s degree, is the crown of our educational system. Its province is higher education, the cultivation of advanced scholarship and research. But “the college should give itself no airs. It should not pretend to be a university.”⁠[554]

It needs scarcely be stated that the Jesuits’ view of the college is exactly the same. They assign no other function, no other aim to it than general culture, harmonious training of the mind.

[308]

How is this training of the mind to be obtained? The Jesuit answers: By exercise, that is, by the different exercises, such as are laid down in the Ratio Studiorum: exercises of the intellect—translations, compositions; exercises of the memory—recitations and declamations; debates (academies), etc. These exercises have sometimes been styled “mechanical”; still how can any training be effected except by devices according to strict rule? Certainly not by the mere lecture of the teacher, however scholarly or interesting it may be. No one becomes an athlete by attending lectures on gymnastics, and no one becomes a perfect soldier by reading the U. S. Infantry Drill Book; but practice, drill, exercise is required. No one’s mental faculties will ever become really developed, unless he is trained and drilled. The insisting on this fundamental principle is probably the most characteristic point in the educational system of the Society. Practice and exercise run all through the different grades, beginning from the teaching of the elements of Latin up to the highest course of theology. It is the same great principle of the necessity of self-exertion, self-activity which Ignatius so forcibly insists upon in that admirable little book, which he justly calls the “Spiritual Exercises.” As there the exercitant is exhorted to act for himself, and not merely to suffer himself to be acted upon, so here the pupil is required from the beginning to act, not merely to listen, to exert himself in the various prescribed exercises.

As these exercises will be spoken of in a later chapter of this book,⁠[555] we need not discuss them here. Suffice it to say that the ablest educators of the nineteenth [309]century have recommended exercises which are essentially the same as those of the Society. So Dr. Arnold, the famous head-master of Rugby; Dr. Wiese, for decades one of the most influential men in the Prussian Ministry of Education; Dr. M. Seyffert, the great Latinist. In the introduction to his excellent Scholae Latinae, Dr. Seyffert has the following: “I thought this work, the fruit of twenty-five years experience, was something new. However, I had scarcely finished, when through the information of a friend of mine, I found out that there was nothing new under the sun. The merit and honor of the invention belongs, as I know now, to the seventeenth century, and, as hardly can be expected otherwise, to the diligence of the Order of the Jesuits, who were unwearied in preparing pedagogical helps and means. I shall be satisfied if my work finds only one tenth of the approval which their work found, and as I think, most deservedly found.” Another great educator of Germany, K. L. Roth, said: “Exercise was the secret of the old college-systems; it forced the pupil daily to use for the formation of his judgment the material accumulated to excess in his memory.”⁠[556]

Intimately connected with the subject of the last chapter is a question now much discussed in pedagogical circles, namely, whether the “old-fashioned” prescribed courses are the best way of attaining the object of education, the training of the mind, or whether the elective system should claim the monopoly in the education of our nation.

Not many years ago the secondary school programmes offered a single course of study, or at most two courses which were to be pursued in order to obtain the diploma of the school. The principal course consisted of Latin, Greek, history and mathematics. At present we find in most secondary schools a number of parallel courses, and the disposition is growing to regard the different courses as of equal value and dignity. It has been said by advocates of the new system that “the old narrow course, with its formal contents and mechanical routine, is doomed; and a richer course of study, with a broader and more inspiring conception of the elementary school-teacher’s responsibilities and opportunities, is taking its place.”⁠[557]

Whence these changes? Not from the conviction of teachers that the old system was bad and inefficient; but, as Professor Hanus says, these changes are chiefly the result of external demands of parents and [311]sons and daughters. They have not been stimulated by the marked encouragement of the colleges; for, at the present day, several important colleges still decline to regard any pre-collegiate course of study as comparable in value to the traditional classical course.⁠[558] Would it not have been the duty of the “leading” schools of the country to lead public opinion, and not allow themselves to be guided by it? When some large and influential schools adopted many parallel courses, the majority of the smaller and less important schools imitated the larger ones, or were practically forced to do so. After these schools had yielded to external demands, it was but natural that there “has also come a desire on the part of all to justify such programmes by an appeal to reason.”⁠[559]

This appeal has been made most forcibly by President Eliot on various occasions. We have heard that his most serious charge against Jesuit colleges is their adherence to prescribed courses. To this indictment the President added: “Nothing but an unhesitating belief in the Divine wisdom of such prescriptions can justify them; for no human wisdom is equal to contriving a prescribed course of study equally good for even two children of the same family, between the ages of eight and eighteen. Direct revelation from on high would be the only satisfactory basis for a uniform prescribed school curriculum. The immense deepening and expanding of human knowledge, in the nineteenth century, and the increasing sense of the [312]sanctity of the individual’s gifts and will power, have made uniform prescriptions of study in secondary schools impossible and absurd. We must absolutely give up the notion that any set of human beings, however wise and learned, can ever again construct and enforce on school children one uniform course of study. The class system, that is, the process of instructing children in large groups, is a quite sufficient school evil, without clinging to its twin evil, an inflexible programme of studies. Individual instruction is the new ideal.”⁠[560]

If this new ideal of individual instruction should be carried out consistently—and the patrons of this electivism certainly ought to work at the realization of this ideal state—we might in the twentieth century see the day, when for five thousand students at Harvard there will be no less than five thousand instructors. No wonder that all these pupils will turn out geniuses, such as the world has never seen before. It seems certain that great results are anticipated by President Eliot. For he concludes his paper with the words: “These gains are noiseless but persuasive; they take effect on five hundred thousand pupils every year. Have we not here some solid ground for hopefulness about the Republic, both as a form of government and as a state of society?”

Not less amusing is the absolute certainty with which President Eliot affirms that electivism is the only system which can claim a right to exist. He says: “Direct revelation from on high would be the only satisfactory basis for a uniform prescribed school curriculum, and nothing but an unhesitating belief in [313]the Divine wisdom of such prescriptions can justify them.” Does not the President himself claim almost a superhuman infallibility when he straightway asserts: “Uniform prescriptions in secondary schools have been made impossible and absurd. We must absolutely give up the notion that any set of human beings, however wise and learned, can ever again construct and enforce on school children one uniform course of study.”⁠[561] Could any one, whether prophet or pope, speak with more certainty, than President Eliot does in this passage? How can uniform prescriptions be styled impossible and absurd, when they are exacted in whole countries, and not only among half-civilized Moslems, or “Decaying” Latin races, but also in “Teutonic” States, for instance in Germany, a country which leads in scholarship and of late years has so rapidly advanced also in industrial and commercial enterprise, that it is considered a formidable rival of American industry and commerce? The absolute certainty with which President Eliot proclaims his views is all the more unwarranted if we compare them with what other distinguished scholars think on this subject.

We quoted before the words of Professor Russell of Columbia, that the experience of Germany can teach us much, especially that “a uniform course of study for all schools of a particular grade, and a common standard for promotion and graduation, can be made most serviceable in a national scheme of education.”⁠[562] Mr. Canfield, in his interesting book The College Student and his Problems, cautions the student in the following terms: “The more specialized your course, [314]the more certain ought you to be that the end is that which you desire. It is quite necessary, therefore, that you know yourself and your purposes, something quite definite of your capacity and powers, if you are to make a wise selection of your work. In the inefficiency or inexactness of such knowledge the college finds one weakness and one danger in multiplying courses or in enlarging the number of electives within a course. For very few young men know themselves at the age at which they enter college, and I think that others know them less.... It is because of this uncertainty of purpose and this ignorance of self that the wisest educators and the most thoughtful students of mankind have always given such loyal adherence to the general culture courses, and especially to the classical courses. This adherence does not mean that all culture power is denied to other courses. It is simply an insistence upon that broad and humanizing work which has been and which ever will be one of the best and surest foundations for large and generous life.”⁠[563] Nothing less is contained in these statements than a condemnation of President Eliot’s electivism. For, if a choice of a specialized course without perfect knowledge of self is a great danger to the college student, how much more to the pupil in the high school? Or, if very few know themselves when entering college, how many can be expected to know themselves when entering the high school? Another remark is most significant. President Eliot asserts that “Moslems and Jesuits” uphold the old [315]prescribed courses; the former President of Ohio State University does not hesitate to say, that for the most weighty reasons, “the wisest educators and the most thoughtful students of mankind have always given loyal adherence to the general culture courses, and especially to the classical courses,” that is practically, to the old prescribed courses.

But to return to the Jesuit system. President Eliot is perfectly correct in stating that it defends a prescribed curriculum. However, it does not exclude, but in many places admits distinct parallel courses; beside the classical course there may be offered an English course, consisting chiefly in English, history, modern languages, some of the natural sciences and mathematics; or a Scientific course in which mathematics and natural sciences are the principal subjects taught. But these courses have to be followed as laid down, at least in the main subjects. Nor do the Jesuits exclude a certain amount of election in secondary branches. We say secondary, as there can be no reasonable doubt that not all branches are of the same educational value. For who would have the hardihood to say, that music and drawing, or even botany and zoology, are as well fitted to develop the mental faculties as the old-fashioned course of classics and mathematics? The Society at least does not dare to affirm it, and in this she is at one with the best educators of all ages, our own not excepted. Dr. McCosh said years ago in the famous debate with President Eliot: “At Harvard a young man has two hundred courses from which he may choose, and many of these courses, I am compelled to call dilettante. I should prefer a young man who has been trained in an old-fashioned [316]college, in rhetoric, philosophy, Latin, Greek, and mathematics, to one who had frittered away four years in studying the French drama of the eighteenth century, a little music and similar branches.”⁠[564] Again Dr. McCosh maintains “there should be required studies for all who pursue a full course for a degree, and the required studies should be disciplinary, affording true mental training. Such studies are English, Greek, Latin, German, French, history, mathematics and physical science.”⁠[565]

The objections of the Jesuits to the extreme electivism are mainly two. The first is that they apprehend serious dangers for the intellectual training from this new system. As was said in the preceding chapter, the intellectual scope of the Jesuit system is a thorough general training of the mind. There are the gravest reasons to fear that this training can scarcely be expected from the elective system as practised in many schools. The second objection arises from the conviction that the moral training of the students will be injured if the choice of studies is to any great extent left to them, especially if they are allowed to change the branches which they find difficult and disagreeable. For, greatly as the Jesuits value the intellectual training of their pupils, they attach far greater importance to the moral training, to the training of the will and the development of character.

President Eliot implicitly asserts that the Jesuits, as upholders of prescribed courses, violate the sanctity of the individual’s will-power. This is a serious charge. In answer to it we may first quote the words [317]of a prominent educator who in the strongest terms makes the same charge against systems like that of President Eliot. Professor Weissenfels of Berlin wrote in 1901: “In our times the moment comes relatively early when the special gifts and abilities of the individual try to assert themselves. But let it not be forgotten that there are brilliant abnormities. The talent for a special science, particularly mathematics, or for a special art, particularly music, even in childhood, gets a tyrannical ascendancy over everything else. Shall we give free play to it and foster it? Or shall we at first endeavor to counteract it, or at least keep from it all that could stimulate still more the inclination which is in itself too strong? Among the tolerably intelligent there is but one opinion: they distrust precociousness.... It is justly considered want of common sense, nay more, a sin against the child’s soul, to make advances to the impatience with which the special aptitude is trying to assert itself, and thus to add fuel to the fire.”⁠[566] The author further calls this system a criminal mutilation of the soul, and maintains that the special talent, if unduly and prematurely fostered will be like a rank weed that stifles every other inclination and thus destroys all harmony of mind and character.

We hear now-a-days so much about the “sanctity of the individual’s will” that one’s idea of human nature may easily get confused. True, there is something sacred in human nature, because it is the image and likeness of its Maker. Still, that sanctity of man is not pure and unalloyed, that image is not altogether [318]intact and spotless. Divine revelation, the world’s history, daily experience and our innermost conscience tell us that there are disorders and derangements, that there are not only holy and divine, but also animal desires, not only upward, but also downward tendencies in our nature. The great Apostle testifies to this truth, when he exclaims: “For I know that there dwelleth not in me, that is to say, in my flesh, that which is good. For to will is present with me; but to accomplish that which is good, I find not. For the good which I will, I do not; but the evil which I will not, that I do.”⁠[567] Now this “law of sin which fights against the spirit” manifests itself differently according to the different dispositions and the age of the individual. In youth, it assumes generally the shape of love of pleasure and enjoyment together with a tendency to idleness, and “idleness is the fruitful mother of many vices.” The old educational systems believed in Allopathy, and thought that these moral diseases could be cured effectively only by means which directly attack the root of the evil. So they tried seriously to occupy a boy’s mind, to accustom him to hard, steady work, to fight against his dislikes, to do his duty and to break his will. But, we are told, that was all wrong, it was only the outcropping of the severe and gloomy asceticism of former ages. Our modern pedagogues have discovered that Homoeopathy alone will do in education. “The poor children are overburdened, make it easy for them. Give full vent to the pupil’s inclinations and do not force him to anything he dislikes. For this would be interfering with the sanctity of the individual!”

[319]

If the old view of life and youth and education savors of asceticism, the new one is sheer materialism. But setting aside all supernatural considerations, we must condemn the extreme electivism of the modern system on merely natural grounds. Nor is this attitude peculiar to the Society of Jesus; it is firmly maintained by educators who in their religious tenets differ widely from ourselves. Professor Münsterberg has well pointed out the damage which results from this system to the character of the child, to the “formal side of education,” as he styles it. “A child who has himself the right of choice, or who sees that parents and teachers select these courses according to his tastes and inclinations, may learn a thousand pretty things, but never the one which is the greatest of all: to do his duty. He who is allowed always to follow the paths of least resistance never develops the power to overcome resistance; he remains utterly unprepared for life. To do what we like to do,—that needs no pedagogical encouragement: water always runs down hill. Our whole public and social life shows the working of this impulse, and our institutions outbid one another in catering to the taste of the public. The school alone has the power to develop the opposite tendency, to encourage and train the belief in duties and obligations, to inspire devotion to better things than those to which we are drawn by our lower instincts. Yes, water runs down hill all the time; and yet all the earth were sterile and dead if water could not ascend again to the clouds, and supply rain to the field which brings us the harvest. We see only the streams going down to the ocean; we do not see how the ocean sends up the waters to bless our fields. Just so do we see in [320]the streams of life the human emotions following the impulses down to selfishness and pleasure and enjoyment, but we do not see how the human emotions ascend again to the ideals,—ascend in feelings of duty and enthusiasm; and yet without this upward movement our fields were dry, our harvest lost. That invisible work is the sacred mission of the school; it is the school that must raise man’s mind from his likings to his belief in duties, from his instincts to his ideals, that art and science, national honor and morality, friendship and religion, may spring from the ground and blossom.”

According to Dean Briggs of Harvard,⁠[568] no people lay themselves more recklessly open to reductio ad absurdum than advocates of the elective system. They wish to put enjoyment into education, without being sure that such education is robust enough. He quotes the example of Dr. Martineau, who gave double time to the studies he disliked, in order to correct the weak side of his nature rather than to develop its strong side. Now it is not necessary to go to such length; studies need not be imposed because they are difficult and unpleasant, but if they are of real educational value they should be imposed although they are hard and unpleasant. Still, no branch is of any educational value, unless it presents difficulties; the mental powers are called into action and are trained only if they have to overcome obstacles.

Some pedagogists sneer at the idea that resistance, the overcoming of obstacles, plays an important part in education. Herein, however, they manifest their shortsightedness. The old adage, “Fast gotten, fast [321]gone,” might be expressed in somewhat different form: “Easily gotten, easily gone.” Dr. Stanley Hall, President of Clark University, whose fame as an educator is widely acknowledged, has well said: “Only great, concentrated and prolonged efforts in one direction really train the mind, because they alone train the will beneath it.” President Jones of Hobart College speaks to a like purpose: “The college must not always follow the line of least resistance. The intellectual life has also its athletic exercises, and mental slouchiness is no less to be regretted than physical insufficiency. The youthful will needs cultivation no less than the growing body.”⁠[569]

On the same head Mr. Townsend Austen wrote most appositely in the North American Review (May 1898). He severely censures those systems of education which attempt to remove as far as possible the obstacles from the course of study. He rightly maintains that the finest nature is the one out of which the dross has been squeezed by painful pressure, and the precious metal has been hammered and beaten into shape. The human being rarely works more than he has to. He appreciates by instinct an easy thing—what college students call a ‘snap’. Some of the strongest points of our nature are best called out by resistance. This element in education should never be overlooked. To eliminate the element of difficulty from a study is an act of dishonesty; it deceives the student. The practice side of almost any study is not interesting, but is often rather tedious and must be so: for instance, to spell correctly, to write good English, to draw well, to reason clearly.—This repugnance [322]constitutes one of the numerous forms of resistance offered to success in human endeavor; drudgery is the bridge to success. The honors of this life must be won, as the Germans say (and how well the progress of that nation illustrates it), “mit saurem Schweiss,” and by the application of another German proverb: “Geduld bricht Eisen” (patience breaks iron). In the development of character in the youth the wise instructor finds the application of this principle most useful and efficient. Will power is acquired. The acquisition of self-control, by which I mean not only the ability to control the passions, but also to compel the action of the mental powers upon a given subject, is aided. The German historian, von Ranke, has stated as a principle in human development, that “all progress is through conflict.” The results become of value, because they have a value in work.⁠[570]

Now this last principle was the favorite one of the founder of the Society of Jesus, which he used to inculcate on every occasion, quoting the words of Thomas a Kempis: Tantum proficies, quantum tibi ipsi vim intuleris—“The greater violence thou offerest to thyself, the greater progress thou wilt make.” But the “make-it-easy” method—and such is the elective system as advocated by its foremost champions—is pernicious to the formation of the character.

Not less serious is the harm done to instruction, as distinguished from moral education. If the choice of subjects is left to the personal likings of the pupils, in many, if not in most cases, such branches will be chosen which seem to be the easiest, no matter what [323]their educational value is. No one who knows human nature will deny this. But that the subjects left to the choice of the students are not all equally capable of giving a thorough mental discipline, is quite evident; and the easier the subject, the less is, as a rule, its educational value.

There are several false assumptions in the contentions of the advocates of electivism. They state without hesitation that the first and foremost object of modern education is to develop the special aptitudes of the pupils, and they apply this not only to college but also to high school education. But this is a most serious mistake. The application of the pupil’s talent to specialties belongs to the university and the professional school; but in the secondary schools, and even in the college, special aptitudes may and should be left to themselves. They will assert themselves when the occasion offers, and the wise teacher will be more solicitous to prevent them from warping the whole course of education than to promote their abnormal development.⁠[571] Special aptitudes must be developed after the general education is completed.

The premature and excessive development of such special aptitudes will invariably result in products which have been called “lop-sided”. It is Powell who said: “I had rather the college turn out one of Aristotle’s four-square men, capable of holding his own in whatever field he may be cast, than a score of lop-sided ones developed abnormally in one direction.” The outcome of such education, or rather instruction, is a sort of mental deformity: one faculty is over-developed, [324]while the others are suffering from atrophy. If the “special aptitude” of the student lies in the field of natural sciences or technics, he is liable to neglect altogether literature, history and philosophy, branches which are indispensable for the real culture of the mind. He becomes a narrow specialist, he swells the host of those men who even now afflict the community, men who are incapable of forming a sane opinion on any question which cannot be decided by a laboratory experiment. Such men have no perceptions of the relations and interrelations of the various branches of knowledge; they lack all appreciation of what is noble and sublime; above all they are most liable to ignore, or even to deny, that beyond the narrow limits of natural science lie truths of the utmost importance, unattainable by any process of synthetic reasoning. It is such warped specialists that Goethe ridicules in the famous passage in Faust (part 2, act I):

There is always a danger that science leads to pride, particularly to that kind of pride which the Germans call Gelehrtenstolz and Professorendünkel. This danger is especially great in the case of specialists. Professor Paulsen quotes a passage from Kant, in which the philosopher of Königsberg speaks of “Cyclopses of science,” who carry an immense weight of learning, a “load of a hundred camels,” but who have only one eye, namely that of their own specialty.⁠[572] They lack [325]entirely the “philosophic eye,” with which they see the relations of things to one another. Of such men Schopenhauer, in his wonted forcible but not over-polite manner, has said: “The man who, disregarding everything else, studies one branch, will in this branch be superior to the rabble (vulgus), but in all the rest he will belong to it. If to this specialization is added a thing which now-a-days becomes more and more common, namely, the neglect of the ancient languages, in consequence of which the general humanistic culture is dropped, then we shall see scientists who, outside their special branch, are real oxen.” This danger can be obviated only by a solid general training. But the earlier the specialization begins, the greater shall be the temptation to disregard all other branches, and to despise all those who know little about this special subject, no matter how much they know in other branches. This is intellectual pride, as contemptible as it is ridiculous.

After having described some of the effects which must necessarily result from electivism, as defended by some, we now turn to a plain question, which has been well stated by Professor Münsterberg. “Are elective studies really elected at all? I mean, do they really represent the deeper desires and demands of the individual, or do they not simply express the cumulation of a hundred chance influences? I have intentionally lingered on the story of my shifting interests in my boyhood; it is more or less the story of every half-way intelligent boy or girl. A little bit of talent, a petty caprice favored by accident, a contagious craze or fad, a chance demand for something of which scarcely the outside is known,—all these whir and buzz [326]in every boyhood; but to follow such superficial moods would mean dissolution of all organized life, and education would be an empty word. Election which is more than a chance grasping presupposes first of all acquaintance with the object of our choice. Even in the college two thirds of the elections are haphazard, controlled by accidental motives; election of courses demands a wide view and broad knowledge of the whole field. The lower the level on which the choice is made, the more external and misleading are the motives which direct it. A helter-skelter chase of the unknown is no election. If a man who does not know French goes into a restaurant where the bill of fare is given in the French language, and points to one and to another line, not knowing whether his order is fish, or roast, or pudding, the waiter will bring him a meal, but he cannot say that he has ‘elected his course.’ From whatever standpoint I view it, the tendency to base the school on elective studies seems to me a mistake,—a mistake for which, of course, not a special school, but the social consciousness is to be blamed.”⁠[573]

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The same truth has been expressed in very plain language by other American educators. We mention a few utterances of more recent date. President Draper, of the University of Illinois, declared recently: “Children are being told that they should elect their studies. They cannot elect.”⁠[574] Professor Peck of Columbia University, reviewing Father Brosnahan’s answer to President Eliot’s charges, speaks of the latter’s “theories which have made Harvard into a curious jumble of college and university, and which President Eliot would like to see carried down into the schools, in the apparent belief that babes and sucklings have an intuitive and prophetic power of determining just what is going to be best for them in all their after life.”⁠[575] Mr. Tetlow, of Boston, calls the elective system “elective chaos, and philosophical anarchism,” and he lays down these propositions: the students are not competent to direct their own studies; most of the parents are utterly incompetent to make an intelligent choice, too many will readily accept the choice made [328]by the children; the principals and teachers are in most cases incompetent to make a wise choice for the pupils, as they are hardly ever sufficiently acquainted with the individual scholars.⁠[576] Indeed, to make such a choice for the individual would require nothing less than “direct revelation from on high,” as no man knows sufficiently the talent and possibilities that may lie dormant in the mind of a young student. If this system is the outcome of the much vaunted child study and pedagogical psychology, we have little reason to boast of this modern science. And we think those are amply justified who, against this “apotheosis of individual caprice,” defend the old system which prescribes those branches that give a solid general training and thereby prepare the mind for taking up successfully any specialty in due time. The philosophical basis of this system is undoubtedly sound, whereas the elective system fully deserves the stigma of “philosophical anarchism”.

We have purposely dwelt longer on the question of “electives,” as a serious charge has recently been raised against the educational institutions of the Jesuits for not accepting the electivism of some modern reformers. After having quoted the opinions of leading educators on that subject, we may ask: Was [329]that charge justified?—It is superfluous to ask, whether the Society will ever adopt that excessive electivism advocated by several educationists. The Society considers this system as destructive of thorough education.

As early as 1832 the General of the Order, in an encyclical letter on education addressed to his subjects, thus spoke of new inventions: “As to the methods, ever easier and easier, which are being excogitated, whatever convenience may be found in them, there is this grave inconvenience: first, that what is acquired without labor adheres but lightly to the mind, and what is summarily gathered is summarily forgotten; secondly, and this, though not adverted to by many, is a much more serious injury, almost the principal fruit of a boy’s training is sacrificed, which is, accustoming himself from an early age to serious application of mind, and to that deliberate exertion which is required for hard work.”⁠[577] A comparison with former quotations shows an almost literal identity of these remarks with those of Prof. Münsterberg and other American educators. This agreement, in our humble opinion, is no discredit to either party. Before concluding this chapter, we repeat once more that the Jesuits are not absolutely opposed to the election of courses or branches. But they think with many other educators that the elective system could work well only with many limitations and safeguards. Such limitations are nothing else but prescriptions of certain branches.

Much has been written within the last few decades for and against the value of the study of the classical languages and literature.⁠[578] Some writers, especially fanatical advocates of “modern” culture, see in the humanistic school only a gloomy ruin of the time of the renaissance, which stands in the midst of the grand structures of modern culture, half monastery, half pagan temple. Latin and Greek philologists have built their nests in its dilapidated walls, like owls that shun the bright light of day, and in the dusk they flutter about to frighten and torment poor children with their cries of monstrous Latin and Greek forms. Others, the one-sided admirers [331]of the “practical” studies, above all of the natural sciences, decry the classical studies as useless, because they do not teach the rising generation how to build bridges or war vessels, how to make aniline colors, or how to utilize best the oil fields of Texas, or the Western prairies. These men do not appreciate classical studies because, to use the words of Brownson, they cannot reduce them immediately to any corresponding value in United States currency. They would rather fill their pockets with Attic oboli and drachmae than their brains with Attic thought. In a word, to them education is only the wild race after the hen that lays the golden eggs. All other requirements they count for nothing. Such views are based on an utter misconception of the intellectual scope of education, and on sheer ignorance of the educational value of the classics. This point we endeavor to illustrate in the present chapter.

The Society of Jesus has always valued classical studies most highly. In the preface to his Ratio Discendi et Docendi, Father Jouvancy says: “Any one acquainted with the Society of Jesus knows how highly she always esteemed the classical studies.” Of late the Society has even been censured for clinging tenaciously to them, as to a venerable, but now out-of-date, curriculum. Be it remarked from the very outset, that the Society upholds the classical curriculum not because this is the old traditional system, but because it has so far proved the best means of training the mind, which is the one great end of education. The various branches of studies are the means to this end. Should other means prove better than the classical languages, the Jesuits would not [332]hesitate to accept them. They would teach, let us say French and German, instead of Latin and Greek.⁠[579] They would not have to change their system, they would apply it only to the new branches. And the much lauded new method of teaching modern languages by practice and exercise, is essentially what the Ratio Studiorum has insisted on all along. However, the Jesuits are not so short-sighted as to claim for the classical studies the educational monopoly which these studies held in former ages. It cannot be denied that the so-called modern high school, which has a curriculum of English, some other modern languages, mathematics, and natural sciences, answers to particular needs of our age. It is especially fitted for those who want to devote only a few years to study after the completion of the elementary course. For this reason the Jesuits have opened in various countries such “modern high schools,” v. g. the Institut St. Ignace, Antwerp. In some of these schools they employ for many branches secular professional teachers, for instance in the successful “army class” attached to the College at Wimbledon, England. Still they think that the best preparation for the professions and for all who wish to exert a far-reaching influence on their fellow-men, is the complete classical course, together with mathematics, history, and a certain amount of natural sciences. They think, and with much reason, that the classical studies even at present should form the backbone of liberal education. [333]They think, with many other prominent educators, that the humanistic studies train the man, whereas the sciences train the specialist.

This is not the place to discuss fully the question of the value of the study of Latin and Greek for liberal education or general culture. Still, we cannot refrain from enumerating a few testimonies in their favor; and that they may be the more effective, we shall exclude those of professors of classical languages, who in this matter might be looked upon as prejudiced witnesses who speak pro domo sua. Many interesting statements were made some ten years ago by the ablest schoolmen of Germany in the famous Berlin Conference preparatory to the “New Plan of Studies” for the Higher Schools of Prussia, which was promulgated in 1892.⁠[580] The relative educational value of the various branches was discussed most thoroughly, and it is surprising to find what professors of mathematics, natural sciences, and medicine have to say in favor of classical studies. Dr. Holzmüller, Director of a commercial and industrial school, said: “I am a mathematician and professor of mathematics, a thorough Realist, but I sound a warning against exaggerating the educational value of mathematics in higher schools. The range of thought and ideas in mathematical studies is narrow; whereas the linguistic studies have many more forms of thought at their disposal.”⁠[581] Professor Helmholtz of the University of Berlin, one of the leading scientists of the nineteenth century, [334]said in the same conference: “The study of the ancient languages alone has so far proved to be the best means of imparting the best mental culture.”⁠[582] As a proof he gives his own experience in the physical laboratory of the Berlin University, where the students that had made the classical course, after one year’s laboratory work surpassed those who had made the so-called science course (Realschulen), although the latter had studied much more natural science than the former. Professor Virchow, one of the greatest medical authorities, although strongly opposed to the then prevailing methods of the gymnasium, made a plea for the classical studies, saying that “the dropping of Latin would prove most dangerous and injurious to the medical profession.” It is a well known fact that this famous pathologist, who died but a few months ago, was an enthusiastic student and admirer of Greek Literature. The verdict of these scholars was based on personal experience made at the University of Berlin some years before. In 1899, seven years after Latin had suffered a severe loss in consequence of the School Order of 1892, Professor Virchow bitterly complained in the German Parliament, that “grammar had been kicked out of the gymnasia, and with it logic.”⁠[583]

The graduates of the German schools which deal with practical subjects, and prepare students for commercial pursuits, or for entrance into polytechnic institutes, were at first debarred from entrance into the universities, being considered unqualified for university work; but in 1870 they were admitted, on equal terms with the graduates of classical schools, to [335]the philosophical department of the universities. After ten years trial of this plan the philosophical faculty of the University of Berlin addressed to the Ministry of Instruction a memorandum, which is declared to be the most powerful plea ever made in behalf of classical studies. They declared unhesitatingly that the students of the practical schools were not fitted to pursue a university course on a par with the graduates of the classical schools, and that, if the plan was reversed, German scholarship would soon be a thing of the past. Even the representatives of science and modern languages in the faculty joined heartily in this judgment. In specifying the reasons why the admission of the non-classical graduate was injurious to the interests of higher education, the thirty-six professors mentioned slower development, superficial knowledge, lack of independent judgment, inferiority in private research, less dexterity, want of keenness, and defective power of expression.

Since 1890 new and significant results were obtained in Germany, which prove that the classical course, besides the better liberal training which it imparts, is no less fitted as a preparation for technical studies than the courses pursued in the Real-Gymnasium and the Oberrealschule. This was attested in the last Berlin Conference (1900), by professors of the Technical Institutes. The Professors of the Technical Institutes, v. g. of Aix-la-Chapelle, adduced statistics to this effect from their respective schools.⁠[584] Professor [336]Launhart of the Technical Institute (Hochschule) of Hanover stated that, from 1890–99, 1209 candidates were examined; 583 from the humanistic gymnasium, 588 from the Real-Gymnasium, and 31 from the Oberrealschule. The results of the examinations proved that the different courses had been equally efficient in preparing pupils for the technical studies. Be it remembered that the humanistic gymnasium devotes less time to mathematics and natural sciences, studies specially required for the technical schools, than the other two kinds of schools. This result, therefore, speaks very well for the solid mental training of the classical schools.

Still more interesting are the statements of Dr. Vogt, who is professor of mathematics in parallel classes of the humanistic Gymnasium and the Reform-Gymnasium at Breslau. This position gives him an exceptional opportunity to compare the results of the two systems. In the lower classes of the Reform-School French is taught, in the humanistic gymnasium Latin. Professor Vogt and his colleagues made the following observations in the third class (Quarta): In 124 hours of the Reform-School they could not achieve more than in the 84 hours of the Latin course. Age, talent, and other conditions of the students were compared, and it was found that all in all the two classes were equal. Does it not necessarily follow from this fact that French does not afford the same mental training as Latin? Professor Vogt maintains in general, that the pupils of the gymnasium acquire less in mathematics than those of the Real-Schulen, if the extent of knowledge is considered, but that their knowledge of mathematics is more intense, more [337]thorough. This he ascribes to the more intense and more thorough training that Latin affords.⁠[585] In fact, this contention is amply proved by the above mentioned results obtained in the Technical Institutes.

The following testimony of a distinguished German writer, who had a large experience in this matter, may claim the attention of all educators. Dr. Karl Hildebrand writes: “If it were conceivable that a youth should entirely forget all the facts, pictures, and ideas he has learned from the classics, together with all the rules of Latin and Greek grammar, his mind would still, as an instrument, be superior to that of one who has not passed through the same training.⁠[586] To give an example, I may state that in my quality of inspector it was my duty to visit a very large number of French lycées and colleges, each of which is usually connected with an école speciale or professionelle, and here I found that the classical pupils, without exception, acquired more English and German than the others, in less than a quarter of the time. (The time devoted to living languages was six hours a week for four years in the special, and only one hour and a half a week for three years in the classical schools.) The same fact struck me in my visits to the German, [338]Belgium, Dutch, and Swiss colleges.... A similar experience may be gathered from practical life. One of the first bankers in a foreign capital lately told me that in the course of a year he had given some thirty scholars—who had been educated expressly for commerce in commercial schools—a trial in his offices, and was not able to make use of a single one of them, while those who came from the grammar schools, although they knew nothing whatever of business matters to begin with, soon made themselves masters of them.”⁠[587]

The same evidence may be given for England. English papers, on the experience of leading English firms, combated the idea that a university degree was of no use to a man intended for business.⁠[588] Mr. Bryce, no mean authority on this subject, concludes the article in which he advocates a special commercial training, with this significant remark: “This paper is not designed to argue on behalf of what is called a modern or non-classical education. I am not one of those who think that either the ancient languages, or what are called ‘literary’ or ‘humanistic’ subjects, play too large a part in our schools, either in England or in the United States. On the contrary, I believe (basing myself on such observations as I have been able to make) that Latin and Greek, when properly taught, are superior as instruments of education to any modern language, and that ‘literary’ subjects, as history, are on the whole more efficient stimulants to the mind (taking an average of minds) than mathematics or natural science.”⁠[589]

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If Mr. Huntington, the late railroad king, disapproved of colleges, because their training unfitted the young men for practical life, and discounted their chances for becoming millionaires, the right answer seems to have been given by President Jones of Hobart College. “Boys who have followed science, mathematics, and literature to their best results, are not, upon graduation, anxious to be brokers’ runners or bank clerks at five or ten dollars per week, and do not exhibit a dawdling inaccuracy, whatever their pursuits. The fresh graduate Mr. Huntington complained of has usually ‘skinned through college,’ and has been unsatisfactory there also.”⁠[590] He was one of the “students” who found football reports more enticing than the Latin and Greek classics; hence “their shortcomings and their commercial inefficiency are evidently not the results and handicaps of scholarship.”

Here we must add that the popular argument against the classical studies is very superficial. We [340]hear it often said: Of what use are these studies? Men in after life mostly throw aside Latin and Greek; there are exceedingly few who after leaving school take a classical author into their hands. Let us grant it. But does it not follow, then, that the study of mathematics and natural sciences is equally useless except for those who become engineers or chemists? Or who, except a professional mathematician, ever in after life looks at logarithms, equations and the like? But there are many instances on record of men in prominent positions who with pleasure returned to the classics, which they had learned to cherish in college. We may quote one instance of a Jesuit pupil, whose name is indelibly engraved in the annals of American history, we refer to Charles Carroll, of Carrollton. Bishop England says of him: “I have known men who, during protracted lives, found in the cultivation of the classical literature that relaxation which improved, whilst it relieved the mind. The last survivor of those who pledged their lives and fortunes, and nobly redeemed their sacred honor in the achievement of our glorious inheritance of liberty, was a striking instance of this. When nearly fourscore years had passed away from the period of his closing the usual course of his classical education—after the perils of a revolution, after the vicissitudes of party strife, when the decay of his faculties warned him of the near approach of that hour when he should render an account of his deeds to that Judge who was to decide his fate for eternity, from his more serious occupations of prayer and self-examination, and from the important concern of managing and dividing his property, would Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, turn [341]for refreshment to those classic authors with whom he had been familiar through life:—his soul would still feel emotion at the force of Tully’s eloquence, or melt at Virgil’s pastoral strain.”⁠[591]

This much is certain from what has been said so far, that the advocates of “practical” studies indulge in a grave delusion when they object to the classical studies. Their usefulness even for a commercial and political career is undeniable, as President Stryker of Hamilton College pointed out in 1901. He said, it should be remembered that the best preparation for a practical and useful life is in the high development of the powers of the mind, and that, commonly, by a culture that is not considered practical. The great parliamentary orators in the days of George III. were remarkable for the intellectual grasp and resource they displayed in the entire world of letters, in the classics, in ancient and modern history. Yet all of them owed their development to a strictly classical training in the schools. And most of them had not only the gift of imagination necessary to great eloquence, but also had so profited by the mental discipline of the classics, that they handled the practical questions upon which they legislated with clearness and decision. The great masters of finance were the classically trained orators, William Pitt and Charles James Fox. Such an education puts no premium upon haste, nor does it discount future power by an immature substitution of learning for training. It is structural towards the whole man, and seeks to issue him, not “besmeared, but bessemered.” It considers the capable metal more [342]than the commercial false edge. Self-realization is the end.⁠[592]

The testimonies given so far undoubtedly outweigh the contemptuous charges which sometimes are hurled against colleges and higher education, by a few “self-made” men, who boast of their ignorance and proudly point to the millions which they were able to amass without any liberal education. These men and some other worshippers of the ‘golden calf’ frequently ask: “Of what use is the study of the classics? What can I do with Greek?” We have heard that the study of the classics is of very great use, also for practical life, and the fact that a few have become rich without them, does in no way prove against their usefulness. But let us for a moment entirely abstract from the utilitarian point of view and rise to higher conceptions of life. Too much has the spirit of the market place invaded the field of education; and the interests of a liberal training have too often been sacrificed to an insatiate commercialism. Is the highest goal of intellectual and social life nothing but the rearing of a few millionaires? No, there must be a higher aim of education, for the nation as well as the individual. A nation that aims at nothing but industrial and commercial expansion, neglecting the higher ideals of mankind, may flourish for a time, but will not contribute much to real civilization. History has proved this. Take the Carthaginians; for a considerable length of time they held the commercial supremacy among the nations. Even intellect there was in the service of capital. The economical principles of a later and more advanced epoch are found by us in [343]Carthage alone of all the more considerable states of antiquity.⁠[593] But not this “nation of shop-keepers” has civilized the world, but poor Greece, whose culture, continued into the literature of Rome, together with the studies which it involves, has been the instrument of education, and the food of civilization, from the first times of the world down to this day.⁠[594] May we not find a lesson in this fact? This country has made marvellous strides in industrial and commercial enterprise, but should it not aim at becoming a leader in the world of science, literature and art? In order to assume this leadership, the country must aim at thoroughness in education, and at solid, productive scholarship.⁠[595] Now, so far the classical studies have proved the best basis of thorough education and solid scholarship, and doubtless will continue to do so in the future. The inference from this seems to be evident.

Fortunately, in this country, a reaction seems to have set in against the realistic tendency of our secondary schools, and people who have the real education of the nation at heart, are more and more converted to the conviction that the classical studies are most useful, if not necessary, for a liberal culture. It will be interesting to hear what the great journalist, Charles A. Dana, thought of the relation of classical studies to journalism. In a lecture delivered at Union College, Schenectady, N. Y., October 13, 1893, he said: “Give the young man (who is entering upon journalism) a first class course of general education: and if [344]I could have my own way, every young man who is going to be a newspaper man, and who is not absolutely rebellious against it, should learn Greek and Latin after the good old fashion. I would rather take a young fellow who knows the Ajax of Sophocles, and who has read Tacitus, and who can scan every Ode of Horace—I would take him to report a prizefight, or a spelling match, for instance, than to take one who has never had these advantages.”⁠[596]

Professor West of Princeton University stated in 1899 that a change of profound significance is taking place in our secondary schools.⁠[597] This change is an improvement, but in reality it is a return to the ‘old-fashioned’ classical courses, and the writer aptly styles it a ‘New Revival.’ As one important cause of the change now in progress he assigns dissatisfaction with former school programmes of study. There were too many studies crowded into the programme. In other words, American opinion is moving steadily, and irresistibly, toward the sound elementary and elemental conviction that the best thing for the mass of pupils in secondary schools is a programme consisting of a few well-related studies of central importance, instead of a miscellany.

Is there sufficient evidence, then, that this tendency of things is becoming strongly marked among us? Is attention being more and more concentrated on a few well-related leading studies which have been important in the best modern education? Let us see. Take out all the secondary studies for which statistics are available from 1889–90 to 1897–98:

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The importance of the figures is the more evident when we bear in mind that the rate of increase in the total enrollment of pupils from 297,894 in 1889–90 to 554,814 in 1897–98 is 86 per cent. But certain studies are growing faster than this; some of them much faster. Latin, to the surprise of many, heads the list with its literally enormous gain of 174 per cent., a rate fully double the 86 per cent. which represents the eight year increase in the total number of pupils. Next comes history with 152 per cent., then the two mathematical disciplines (geometry with 147 and algebra with 141), and then German with 131. After these we find French with 107, and Greek with 94. All these and only these exceed the average. Physics and chemistry close the list somewhat below. Prominent educators all the world over hail this “new revival” as one of the most promising signs of the educational movement in America.

The foregoing pages contain sufficient proof that the Ratio Studiorum does not need any defence for giving such prominence to the study of the classical [346]languages, especially to Latin. On the contrary, it speaks well for the educational wisdom of the Jesuits that for about a century, despite the sneers of many modern school reformers, they firmly upheld that method to which the more prudent educators steadfastly adhered, and to which others, after roaming about far and wide, now wish to return.

It may be asked why the study of the classical languages is the best means of intellectual training and universal culture. The reasons are manifold. The first is the very fact for which this study is frequently attacked, namely, that these languages are dead languages. “They are not the language of common life. They are not picked up by instinct and without reflection. Everything has to be learned by system, rule, and formula. The relations of grammar and logic must be attended to with deliberation. Thought and judgment are constantly exercised in assigning the exact equivalents of the mother tongue for every phrase of the original. The coincidence of construction is too little, the community of idiomatic thought too remote, for the boy’s mind to catch at the idea, by force of that preestablished harmony which exists among most modern tongues. Only the law of thought and logic guides him, with the assistance of a teacher to lead the way, and reassure his struggling conception.”⁠[598]

This, then, is the first point of the study of the classical languages: logical training, training that leads to correct and clear thinking, to close and sharp reasoning.⁠[599] The study of Latin is better adapted to [347]accomplish this effect than any other language; for, whereas Greek is more delicately organized, more beautiful and poetic, the Latin is perhaps the more systemically elaborated tongue. In its severe syntax it participates in some of the striking qualities of the Roman character, which seems to have been fitted to legislate, to govern, and to command, as the great poet has it:

The study of Latin requires such application of various rules and laws that it forces the student to the closest attention, to rigorous mental discipline. The processes of reasoning which are, at least implicitly, to be gone through, in translating an English sentence into Latin, are ample proof of this statement. Suppose a pupil has to render the following sentence into correct Latin: “As soon as you arrive at Philadelphia, give him the letter, to prevent him from going to New York.” He will probably start: As soon as: ubi primum; arrive is pervenire, or advenire. Now what tense? Ubi primum, together with postquam, etc., is construed with the Perfect Indicative. But wait, does it always take the Perfect? No, only when a single past fact is related; is this the case here? That depends on the tense of the verb in the principal clause: it is give. What tense? It is properly the present tense, but has reference to the future. Therefore, the whole clause does not express a past but a future fact. In English arrive is present tense, but in Latin the use of tenses is much more accurate; if the action of principal and dependent clauses are both [348]future, they must be expressed by a future tense. Now arrive has a future meaning; therefore a future tense. But which of the two? First or second? That depends on the nature of the action; if the verb of the dependent clause denotes an action antecedent to that of the principal clause, it must be put in the tense which denotes antecedence. Now, let us see: the arriving at Philadelphia necessarily antecedes the giving of the letter; consequently I have to use the second future, the futurum exactum: ubi primum—venio, Perfect veni—well: perveneris. At Philadelphia; at is in; however, names of cities are construed without a preposition, they are used in the locativus, which in singular nouns of the 1st and 2nd declensions is like the Genitive case, therefore Philadelphiae. But is there not a rule about advenire, pervenire, congregari, etc.? They mean going towards, into, therefore I must use the construction answering the question: whither, therefore Philadelphiam. Very well. Now: give him the letter; give: trade, da; him: eum, but stop—eum is direct object, while in the given sentence him is indirect, so it must be ei, trade ei epistolam.—To prevent, is the infinitive, here it expresses a purpose. Clauses denoting purpose are not expressed by the infinitive in Latin prose, but by ut, causa with the gen. of the Gerund, or ad with the accusative, etc.; take ut: but attend to the sequence of tenses!—impedias eum; from going: a proficiscendo? No! but: quominus or ne proficiscatur. To New York—Neo-Eboraco?—Very often pupils use the Dative, not having been instructed from the beginning about the difference of to, meaning towards, into, and to, meaning for the benefit, in the interest of; here Neo-Eboracum. Now the [349]sentence is complete: Ubi primum Philadelphiam adveneris, epistolam ei trade ut impedias eum, quominus Neo-Eboracum proficiscatur.

Is it not surprising how much intellectual labor is spent, and well spent, in translating that little sentence?⁠[601] How many syllogisms were formed, or are at least implied? Père Fabri, a French Jesuit teacher, wrote in 1669: “Besides literary accomplishments gained from the study of the classical languages there are other advantages to be derived, especially an exquisite power and facility of reasoning. For in the writing of verses, in the examination of words and contents, a constant analysis and combination is required which helps the mind wonderfully to sound reasoning.”⁠[602] Indeed, the study of these languages is a course of applied logic. Immanent logic has been called the characteristic of the Latin language and its grammar.⁠[603] “Latin grammar,” says Dr. Karl Hildebrand, “is a course of logic presented in an almost tangible form. Let us only remember how an idea so abstract as that of subject and object is rendered palpable by the s and m.” We said, the labor was well spent. For, a student who has thus been trained will acquire the habit of clear thinking. When a doctor, he will in a given case reason similarly, though not in that cumbrous form, but pass in a moment, unconsciously, because from habit, through various syllogisms, and examine whether this or that remedy will have the desired effect. A patient should naturally [350]have much more confidence in such a doctor, than in one who has not had the advantage of the same logical training. The results will be similar in the case of a lawyer, a politician, a business man, a writer. The father in the fable told his sons that there was a treasure hidden in his vineyard. They began to dig the vineyard once, twice, and oftener, in the hope of finding the treasure. No chests of gold, no bags filled with good coin, appeared; but in the following year the vineyard yielded immeasurably more than ever before. Here was the treasure the wise father meant them to seek after. The same holds good in education. The man in later life may never again use his Latin or Greek, still the study of these languages has turned up the soil in the field of his intellect, fertilized it, and if now it yields a rich harvest, the result is to a great extent due to that patient digging, although he himself may not, and in most cases does not, realize to what source his success in life is to be ascribed.

But the logical training acquired by translating from or into the ancient languages, although a most important result, is by no means the only benefit of the study of those languages. There is, besides this formal side, the historical. The Latin and Greek literatures present to us at first hand all the great masterpieces of antiquity, which have inspired directly or indirectly most of what is really great and noble in modern literature. Most deservedly, therefore, have the classical studies been styled the ABC of all higher studies.⁠[604] Latin especially is, as Professor Paulsen styles it, “the gate to the great historical world. No [351]one who wishes to move in wider circles of historical life can do without Latin.” For similar reasons Director Jäger maintained the necessity of classical lore for the man who wishes to possess a title to real scientific preparation for higher studies. In the last Berlin Conference on higher education, 1900, there was probably no point so strongly insisted on as the necessity of Latin for all men who lay any claim to culture. Professor Harnack claimed that the humanistic training seemed to him especially necessary for all who had any great influence on their fellow-men and on the social and political life of a nation.⁠[605] Arnold had expressed a similar opinion when he said: “Expel Greek and Latin from your schools, and you confine the views of the existing generation to themselves and their immediate predecessors, you will cut off so many centuries of the world’s experience, and place us in the same state as if the human race had first come into existence in the year 1500.”⁠[606]

There is, in the third place, what we may call the literary and aesthetic momentum. When through means of grammatical studies the pupil is sufficiently prepared, he begins to read the greatest masterpieces of literature. Gradually he becomes intimately acquainted with some of the maturest minds of all ages, provided the teaching is carried on in the proper form, i. e. if the authors are read not to furnish merely material for grammatical drill, but in such a manner that the contents of the authors form the central part of the whole instruction, that the author begins to live, that the persons seem to act and speak before the [352]eye of the student. He is thus introduced to one great author after another. First comes Caesar, whose plain but vigorous style is the true image of the great Roman general and statesman, who changed the greatest of republics into an Empire. Then appears Xenophon with his lifelike descriptions; Livy with his eloquent history of Rome, full of ardent patriotism; then Cicero, the most gifted and versatile of all the Romans, with his brilliant style, his sparkling wit, his cutting irony and stern denunciation of corruption. Then the student admires Ovid’s elegant verses, Virgil’s grand and stately lines, Horace’s refined and tasteful stanzas. Then rises before him the great philosopher Plato, who portrays in fascinating dialogues the wise man of heathen antiquity, Socrates. If properly taught, but then only, the student is sure, after the struggle of a few months, to form an intimate friendship with the ‘Father of Poetry’, immortal Homer. He will soon realize the greatness of the blind old man, who lived in the mouths of a hundred generations and a thousand tribes; who, as Cardinal Newman says, “may be called the first apostle of civilization;” whose Odyssey and Iliad formed a source of purest enjoyment to many of the greatest men of history: to Alexander the Great, Napoleon, Newman, Gladstone, and countless others. We could continue and mention the powerful harangues of the prince of orators, Demosthenes, the grand and soul-stirring tragedies of Aeschylus and Sophocles. But we have enumerated enough to show what wealth and variety of intellectual food is placed before the classical student in the course of a few years. By these studies his aesthetical sense is developed, he acquires imperceptibly that precious gift, which we call taste.

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Sometimes we hear it said that a good translation of these Greek authors would give us all the advantages we may derive from the study of the original. Any one acquainted with classical literature knows what to think of this assertion. Translations are, at the best, what the reproduction of a grammophone is compared to the original concert or solo. Father Jouvancy has well observed: “Translations of Greek authors, even if they are accurate, seldom render the force, beauty, and other striking qualities of the original. It is always better to draw drinking water from the source; the further it runs from the source, the more it is contaminated, and the more it loses its original taste.”⁠[607]

This opinion is confirmed by the judgment of many modern writers. Thus Sterne says: “The most excellent profane authors, whether Greek or Latin, lose most of their graces whenever we find them literally translated. In the classical authors, the expressions, the sweetness of numbers, occasioned by a musical placing of words, constitute a great part of their beauties.”⁠[608] Mr. Genung, Professor of Rhetoric in Amherst College, speaks thus of the “Untranslatable” in literature: “In all the higher achievements of literature there must necessarily remain a great deal that, in spite of the utmost skill, cannot be adequately reproduced in another language. The thought may indeed survive, though marred and mutilated, but the subtle spiritual aroma, the emotional essence perishes in the transmission. This is preeminently true of [354]poetry. George Henry Lewes, in his Life of Goethe, says: ‘In its happiest efforts, translation is but approximation; and its efforts are not often happy. A translation may be good as translation, but it cannot be an adequate reproduction of the original.’”⁠[609] To single out one instance: there exist numerous translations of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, in prose and verse. And yet, any one familiar with the most important poetical monument existing⁠[610] can trace but few remains of the graces which charmed him in the original. Cowper and Wright have failed in rendering Homer’s rapidity; Pope and Sotheby have failed in rendering his plainness and directness of style and diction; Chapman has failed in rendering his plainness and directness of ideas; and for want of appreciating Homer’s nobleness, Newman has failed more conspicuously than any of his predecessors. Some passages of Pope’s translation exhibit the translator’s prodigious talent. But as Bentley said: “You must not call it Homer.” Chapman’s translation is praised by Coleridge, who, however, is forced to add: “It will give you a small idea of Homer.” Dr. Maginn’s Homeric Ballads are vigorous poems in their own way, but as a Homeric translation very often nothing more than a travesty.⁠[611] Similar objections may be raised against any of the other translations of classical poems.

A fourth advantage which the classical studies possess over mathematics and natural sciences, consists in the moral or ethical element, in the many examples they present of the natural virtues, examples [355]of heroic patriotism, of filial devotion, and dutifulness. The example of Socrates, dying in obedience to what he considers the voice of God, of chaste Penelope, of faithful Eumaeus, and of many other characters depicted so vividly and graphically with the inimitable simplicity and skill of the ancient writers, cannot fail to produce an elevating, ennobling and purifying effect on the hearts of the young; these examples show us that the sense of moral beauty was left in mankind even in the midst of the darkness and corruption of paganism. What have the other branches of study, mathematics and natural sciences, to offer that could be compared to this? Mathematics is an excellent means of developing logical thinking, but there its efficiency stops, it has, as professors of mathematics have said, “a narrow range of thoughts and ideas.” It certainly does not inspire, does not elevate. Or whose heart has ever become warmed or ennobled by fully grasping the Pythagorean system, or by developing (a + b)³ or any other algebraic formula? Whose aesthetic or moral sense has been refined by analyzing FeS + H₂SO₄ = FeSO₄ + H₂S, or other chemical equations? Mathematics and natural sciences are justly called by the Germans Realfächer; they impart practical, useful knowledge, but not ideal, not liberal culture. Newman has well expressed this difference: “When an idea, whether it is real or not, is of a nature to interest and possess the mind, it is said to have life, that is, to live in the mind which is the recipient of it. Thus mathematical ideas, real as they are, cannot be called living, for they have no influence and lead to nothing.”⁠[612] The same applies [356]more or less to the natural sciences, whereas the very opposite holds good of the study of literature and history.

In the fifth place we mention the gain classical studies yield to the mother-tongue. This is very important for a thorough and scholarly understanding of the English language, as two thirds or more of the English vocabulary are words derived from Latin. But the principal gain in knowledge of the mother-tongue is derived from careful, idiomatic translations into the vernacular. If translations are made regularly and accurately, there is little need of giving special instructions on English grammar and style. In the Berlin Conference of 1890 some of the leading men, among them Professor Helmholtz, emphasized this point, saying that “good and idiomatic translations are an instruction in the German language, which cannot be appreciated highly enough.”⁠[613] The great Prussian schoolman Dr. Wiese had long before expressed himself to the same effect, referring to the example of Dr. Arnold of Rugby, who saw in good translation the best preparation for writing excellent English. “Whenever it is attended to,” says Dr. Arnold, “it [translation] is an exercise of exceeding value; it is in fact one of the best modes of instruction in English composition, because the constant comparison with the different idioms of the languages, from which you are translating, shows you in the most lively manner the peculiar excellence and defects of your own.”⁠[614] In another passage he writes: “Every lesson in Latin and Greek may, or ought to be made [357]a lesson in English; the translation of every sentence in Demosthenes or Tacitus is properly an exercise in extemporaneous English composition; a problem how to express with equal brevity, clearness and force in our own language the thought which the original author has so admirably expressed in his.” “The practice of translating,” says James Russell Lowell, “by making us deliberate in the choice of the best equivalent of the foreign word in our own language, has likewise the advantage of schooling us in one of the main elements of a good style—precision.”⁠[615] “The old theory is now reviving that the teaching of English in the modern fashion is of little value, and that the old method of teaching Latin grammar, and allowing English to take care of itself, is really sounder and more practical.”⁠[616]

Similar are the words of a prominent schoolman of this country, Mr. Nightingale, Superintendent of High Schools, Chicago. In the Report of the Conference on English, read before the National Association of Education at Asbury Park, N. J., 1894, he says: “I would have children at the age of ten or eleven years commence the study of that language which in the fields of persuasion and philosophy, of literature and law, is so largely the progenitor of the English—the incomparable Latin. If we would be strong we must contend with something—resist something—conquer something. We cannot gain muscle on a bed of eiderdown. Toying with straws will only enervate [358]the faculties. The blacksmith’s arm becomes mighty through his ponderous strokes of the hammer on the anvil. The very facility of the acquisition of the modern languages precludes the possibility of discipline. Put Latin into our common schools, and the puzzling problem of English Grammar will be nearing its solution, for the why that meets the pupil at every step, the very laboriousness and difficulty of the task, will open the intellect, develop the powers of discrimination and adaptation, enlarge the vocabulary, enable the student to write a better English essay, use a more terse and trenchant style of speech, and grasp with more avidity and keenness any promulgated form of thought, than if he should spend quintuple the time on the study of the English Grammar alone.”

Is it not significant that nearly all the great English writers and orators were ardent admirers and students of the classical languages? A Pope, a Dryden, an Addison, a Milton, a Burke, a Pitt, a Tennyson and a Newman, and others? The younger Pitt gives a student the following advice: “The practice of rendering the Greek and Roman classics into English, and of committing to memory the most eloquent passages which occur in reading, is the best exercise in which the young student can engage. It imparts a command of language, aids him in acquiring a forcible style, affords the best mental discipline, strengthens the memory, cultivates his taste, invigorates his intellect, and gives him a relish for the sublime and beautiful in writing.” Further, the whole of English literature is so saturated with classical allusions, that without a fair knowledge of the more important works of Greek and Roman writers, it is impossible to appreciate [359]fully, or even to understand the finest productions of English literature. This being the case, we have another proof that our modern pedagogists, by exaggerating the claims of the natural sciences beyond all reasonable bounds, are doing great harm to literature and liberal culture.

Having reviewed the various advantages which the study of the classics affords, we may well say with one of the greatest minds of the nineteenth century: Modern methods and sciences, and “their inestimable services in the interest of our material well-being, have dazzled the imaginations of men, and since they do wonders in their own province, it is not unfrequently supposed that they can do as much in any other province also. But to advance the useful arts is one thing, and to cultivate the mind another. The simple question to be considered is how best to strengthen, refine, and enrich the intellectual powers; the perusal of the poets, historians and philosophers of Greece and Rome will accomplish this purpose, as long experience has shown; but that the study of experimental sciences will do the like, is proved to us as yet by no experience whatever. Far indeed am I from denying the extreme attractiveness, as well as the practical benefit to the world at large, of the sciences of chemistry, electricity, and geology; but the question is not what department of study contains the more wonderful facts, or promises the more brilliant discoveries, and which is in the higher and which is in the inferior rank; but simply which out of all provides the most robust and invigorating discipline for the unformed mind.... Whatever be the splendors of the modern philosophy, the marvellousness of its disclosures, [360]the utility of its acquisitions, and the talents of its masters, still it will not avail in the event, to detrude classical literature and the studies connected with it from the place which they have held in all ages in education.”⁠[617] Goethe, realizing what debt he himself owed to the classics, exclaimed: “Would that the study of Greek and Roman literature forever remained the basis of higher education.”⁠[618]

These are the reasons why the Society of Jesus always gave such prominence to classical studies. She considers them to be among the “few well-related studies of central importance;”⁠[619] to them she would apply the words of Dr. Stanley Hall, quoted before: “Only great, concentrated and prolonged efforts in one direction really train the mind.” The mind can never be trained by that miscellany of studies crowded into the programme of our modern systems. Their effects on youth were ably pointed out seventy years ago by the General of the Society, Father Roothaan.⁠[620] “In the lower schools [he means grammar schools and colleges], the object kept in view is to have boys learn as many things as possible, and learn them in the shortest time and with the least exertion possible. Excellent! But that variety of so many things and so many courses, all barely tasted by youth, enables them to conceive a high opinion of how much they know, and sometimes swells the crowd of the half instructed, the most pernicious of all classes to the sciences and the State alike. As to knowing anything [361]truly and solidly, there is none of it. Ex omnibus aliquid, in toto nihil: Something of everything, nothing in the end. In the method of conducting the lower studies, some accessory branches should have time provided for them, especially the vernacular tongues and literatures. But the study of Latin and Greek must always remain intact and be the chief object of attention. As they have always been the principal sources of exhibiting the most perfect models of literary beauty in precept and style, so are they still.”

Here it is necessary to meet some objections to the Jesuit system. It is said that, however much the Jesuits insisted on the classical studies, they directed them to a wrong end. They aimed only at “formation of style.” “To write in Latin is the ideal they propose to their pupils.... They direct the pupil’s attention, not to the thoughts, but to the elegancies of language, to the elocutionary effort; in a word, to the form.” Thus M. Compayré.⁠[621] Mr. Painter tells us even that the Jesuits’ “plan” says: “The study of classic authors can have for us only a secondary end, namely, to form the style, we wish nothing else. Style will be formed essentially after Cicero.”⁠[622] What answer can be given to this serious charge? The answer is a very simple one: the first sentence of Mr. Painter’s quotation is untrue. That statement of his is nowhere contained in the whole Ratio, neither literally nor equivalently.⁠[623] The Ratio and its commentator Jouvancy [362]state expressly that various things are to be considered in these studies: knowledge of language, of grammar, of syntax, precepts of rhetoric, style, and varied erudition.⁠[624] Jouvancy, in the schemata for explaining the authors, has five or six points, the first is always the interpretation of the meaning, the contents, the linguistic and logical explanation; then rhetorical or poetical precepts, then general erudition, and lastly Latinity.⁠[625] This proves how untrustworthy are the quotations of Mr. Painter and of other critics of the Ratio. The perusal of the commentary of Jouvancy refutes also in general the charge of “mere formalism.” However, if by “formal” is meant the general linguistic training,⁠[626] the Society has always laid great stress on it. Many scholars begin to deplore the fact that this “formal” training is being neglected too much in the new schools. “The great linguistic and logical training which results from solid and properly conducted instruction in grammar, especially in another language, particularly in Latin and Greek, has of late been undervalued—the nemesis for it has come already.”⁠[627]

It is true that in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the Jesuits did not enter as fully into the explanation of the contents as is demanded at present. But who can blame them for this? It is true also that [363]they insisted very much on speaking and writing Latin, much more than is advisable in our days. But so did the Protestant schools.⁠[628] For this mastery of Latin was at that time of foremost practical importance, as Latin was the universal language of Western Christendom, the language of law and science, and the necessary organ of international intercourse. As it was necessary, therefore, to teach Latin in such a manner as to enable the pupils to write it, the Jesuits endeavored to do this as well as possible; hence they insisted much on a good Latin style, and imitated most of all that of Cicero, a choice which only some radical critics of the school of Mommsen can condemn. If even at present the writing and speaking of Latin is one of the exercises in the Jesuit schools, it is not for the same practical purpose as formerly, but these exercises are directed towards the logical training of the mind. Besides, much less time is devoted to these exercises now than heretofore.—That the writing and speaking of Latin was never the only object of teaching this language, is proved from the manner in which the authors were explained; it is also sufficiently clear from the fact that Greek was always taught in the Jesuit schools, certainly not for the practical purpose of speaking it, but for purposes of general training. One of these purposes was to acquaint the pupils with the classical writers, with their thoughts and ideas.

But here M. Compayré has discovered another defect in the Jesuit system. “It is to be noted, besides, that the Jesuits put scarcely more into the hands of their pupils than select extracts, expurgated editions. [364]They wish in some sort to efface from the ancient books whatever marks the epoch and characterizes the time. They detach fine passages of eloquence and beautiful extracts of poetry, but they are afraid, it seems, of the authors themselves; they fear lest the pupils find in them the old human spirit—the spirit of nature.”⁠[629] There are several fallacies in this assertion. First of all the terms “select extracts” and “expurgated editions” apparently are used by M. Compayré as synonymous; but this is not correct. An expurgated edition, v. g. of the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Aeneid, gives the whole work with the omission of but a few objectionable passages. Such editions are certainly not to be called select extracts from these authors. The Jesuits used to read select extracts from some authors, whose works are of such a character as to make it impossible to read them entire, as Juvenal, Tibullus, Catullus, etc. But they read the great works, the Odyssey, the Iliad, the Aeneid, some of Plato’s Dialogues, the works of Cicero, etc., in expurgated editions in which only a few indecent passages were left out. These editions did not efface what characterized the time, or marked the spirit of the authors. On the contrary, it would have been directly against the principles of the Jesuits to suppress all this. For, whereas the Protestant Reformers and the Jansenists taught that man, unaided by grace, was utterly corrupt and unable to do anything good, that the seeming virtues of the pagans, of a Socrates and others, were but gilded vices, the Jesuits always maintained firmly that fallen man remained capable of performing some good works. The Jesuits were more [365]than once styled Pelagians or Semipelagians, because, as their adversaries said, they extolled human nature too much. The Jesuits could, consistently with their philosophical and theological doctrine, propose to their pupils the example of the natural virtues of the pagans.

On the other hand, they were most anxious to show the immense superiority of the religion of Christ to the philosophical systems of the ancients; they pointed out the helplessness of Greek philosophy to raise man above the baser elements of nature, and they showed into what an abyss of corruption the human race, left to itself, had fallen. All this instruction they could impart only if they left in the authors what was characteristic of their time and spirit, except such passages as on account of their obscenity were not fit to be read by youths. Here we have the meaning of the saying frequently used by Jesuit educators: “So interpret pagan authors as to make of them heralds of Christ.” The religious and moral principles of the ancients were to be judged by the standard of Christian principles; what manifested the human spirit in its divine likeness, the testimony of the Anima naturaliter Christiana, as Tertullian says so beautifully, was approved and recommended; what exhibited that spirit of nature which is “the enemy of Christ,” was condemned. If M. Compayré reprehends the Jesuits for doing this, they must be proud of such reproach; for it is a contumely suffered for defending the teaching of Christ against the doctrine of rank naturalism.

The Jesuits were never afraid of the ancient authors themselves. History has proved this. If they had been afraid, they would have introduced the Christian Latin and Greek authors instead of the pagan classics. [366]As they possessed almost an educational monopoly in Catholic countries for about two centuries, it is certain that they would have succeeded, had they attempted such a change. But they never attempted this change; on the contrary, they strongly opposed such attempts. It suffices to allude to the famous controversy carried on with so much vigor by Abbé Gaume in France, about fifty years ago. This zealous scholar maintained that the pagan classics infected the schools with pagan ideas; indeed, he saw in their use in the schools the “fatal cancer which preys upon the vitals of Christianity.”⁠[630] Christian Latin and Greek authors should, therefore, be substituted for the pagan classics. Many distinguished Catholic scholars and writers, such as Montalembert, Louis Veuillot, Donoso Cortes and others sided with Abbé Gaume. Among those who most strenuously defended the classics were the Jesuits, foremost among them Father Daniel. In a most elegant and learned book⁠[631] this Jesuit proved overwhelmingly that, from the earliest centuries, the majority of the great Doctors of the Christian Church were not opposed to the classics, on the contrary that most of them favored their study, and that the severe language of a few Fathers is directed not against the classics as such, but against the idolatry and obscenity contained in many of them.⁠[632]

[367]

There was, as far as I can ascertain, only one Jesuit writer who ranged himself prominently on the side of Abbé Gaume in this controversy.⁠[633] The Jesuits, as a body, “the greatest of all educational communities,” as a writer at the time called them,⁠[634] stood up for the defence of the classics. They did not deny that the classics contained dangerous elements, which could work evil in men of bad hearts, or weak heads. But they thought that it was the vicious organization of the individual, or a pernicious system of teaching, as that of many humanists, that extracted the poison from the classics and rejected the sound aliment of intellectual food contained in the ancient literature. This danger cannot exist for all, and it can be effectively remedied by wise teaching. As the afore-mentioned writer declared, “put education into proper hands, and the greatest step [towards obviating [368]possible evils] is achieved. The present position of the Jesuits in France is for us a more hopeful sign than would be the introduction of the very system called for by Abbé Gaume.”⁠[635]

In 1894 M. Jules Lemaître renewed the attacks on the classics, directing his accusations especially against the Jesuit schools. “I find,” he writes, “in the pagan authors read in schools voluptuous naturalism, Epicurean principles, or that Stoicism which is not virtue but pride. The consequences of this anomalous state of affairs are incalculable. We cannot wonder that the Jesuit colleges have produced so many pagans and freethinkers, among them Voltaire.”⁠[636] Now this is very amusing. This writer accuses the Jesuits of fostering a heathen, free-thinking spirit, by means of teaching the classics; and M. Compayré charges them with suppressing the characteristic spirit of the classical writers. This is one of the numberless contradictions into which the opponents of the Society have been betrayed. If the classics were taught in the spirit of M. Compayré, there is little doubt that, as Abbé Gaume and M. Lemaître apprehended, freethinkers would be produced. But the Jesuits teach them in quite a different spirit. Hence the charges of these writers are wide of the mark. Nor did the Jesuits give mere anonymous fragments, mere travesties of the classics, as M. Compayré claims. They expunged obscene passages from their editions, as conscientious non-Catholic editors have done, and that is all.⁠[637] The reasons for doing this are so obvious that [369]there should be no need of defending this practice. However, we shall say more on this subject when speaking of the “Moral Scope of Education.” (Chapter XVII.)

One more word about selected extracts. One of the greatest Greek scholars of our age, Professor von Wilamowitz-Moellendorf of the Berlin University, has just published, at the recommendation of the Prussian Ministry of Instruction, a Greek reader consisting of selected extracts from different authors and different kinds of literature.⁠[638] The object of this book is to give the students of the higher classes of the gymnasium, by means of characteristic selections from various kinds of writings, a conspectus of the whole range of Greek literature. We do not wish here to attempt a criticism of such a plan; what we want to state is that, even at present, great scholars think selected extracts of great value especially for acquainting the students with the spirit of a great nation, as expressed in its literature. If, then, the Jesuits had read chiefly selected extracts—which is not the case—M. Compayré would not be justified in blaming the Jesuits in particular for doing this, unless he could prove that their selections were destitute of all educational value.

Chapter XIII.
Syllabus of School Authors.

§ 1. General Remarks.

The Ratio Studiorum divides the literary curriculum into five classes. Father Jouvancy speaks of six,⁠[639] adding that the sixth is sometimes combined with the fifth. Father Kropf in 1736, in his programme, has six. Most Jesuit colleges in this country have six classes in the literary course, to which are added two years of philosophy with higher mathematics, natural sciences and economics. These eight classes correspond to the high school and the college course. The four lower or grammar classes are equivalent to the high school, whereas the four higher classes: Humanities (Freshman), Rhetoric (Sophomore), Junior and Senior Philosophy, correspond to the American college, with one essential difference, “that the work of the Jesuit college is not professional study, but general culture and preparation for professional study.”⁠[640]

When in the following pages we speak of the study of the authors, it is understood that a systematic study of grammar has preceded and partly accompanies the reading of the authors. Of late there is a tendency to begin reading too early, almost from the beginning, [371]and to study the whole grammar inductively. Such reading cannot be fruitful. Let us hear two German schoolmen on this question. Director Jäger of Cologne said in the 41st Conference of the German Philologians and Educators (Munich, 1891): “The reading of the authors should remain the principal object of the classical training, but it must be an intelligent reading, reading that is understood because of solid grammatical training imparted previously. Only thus can the study of a language become a means of scientific knowledge. Therefore, sufficient time must be devoted to the grammatical training.” Professor Seeliger makes the following very timely observations: “One point in the linguistic training must not be lost sight of: namely, that the understanding of the authors must be solid; but a solid appreciation of the authors can be built only on the foundation of a knowledge of grammar. Teachers now-a-days try too much to keep this end out of sight for fear of public opinion; some weakly yield to the Zeitgeist and hush it up altogether, to proclaim the more loudly that the reading of the authors is the only object of classical instruction. But I think grammatical discipline is very salutary, even for the youth of the present age, indeed, a remedy against many dangers of our time. And any one of us teachers who conscientiously endeavors to make instruction effective should fearlessly profess to be a grammaticus, and act according to this profession.”⁠[641]

The Ratio Studiorum prescribes the authors to be studied in the various classes, and in Jouvancy’s commentary and similar documents, other authors are mentioned which may be read alongside or instead of [372]those enumerated by the Ratio. As we have seen, the matter and the order in which the different subjects are to be taught are not essential to the Ratio. Consequently it is not necessary to follow strictly the given list. If in any point the Ratio can and must be adapted to the times, it is in the choice of authors. Therefore, those which are generally read in other classical institutions of the country, should be preferred and taught according to the spirit and method of the Ratio. In fact, all authors read in the modern classical schools are mentioned in the Ratio or by Jouvancy.

In different ages we find different tastes and opinions. We must not, therefore, be surprised to find authors recommended as school books which do not suit our taste. We give here a list of authors as contained in different documents of the Society.⁠[642] When the Ratio enumerates many authors for one and the same class, it is understood that the choice was left to provincial or local superiors.

First Grammar Class (first high school class). Latin: easy selections from Cicero, if possible in separate editions; Fables of Phaedrus, Lives of Nepos.

Second Grammar Class. Latin: Ratio Studiorum: the same as preceding. Jouvancy: somewhat more difficult letters of Cicero, Virgil’s Bucolics, selections from Ovid and other poets.—Greek: Fables of Aesop.

Third Grammar Class. Latin: Ratio Studiorum: Letters of Cicero, Caesar’s Commentaries, easy poems of Ovid. Jouvancy: Cicero’s Somnium Scipionis, [373]Virgil’s Georgics, especially books I and IV. Ovid’s Metamorphoses.—Greek: Fables of Aesop; the Tablet of Cebes; select dialogues of Lucian.

Fourth Grammar Class. Latin: more important letters of Cicero; De Senectute, De Amicitia etc.; select elegies and epistles of Ovid, or selections from Tibullus, Catullus, Propertius, and Virgil’s Eclogues; or the fourth book of Virgil’s Georgics, the fifth and seventh book of the Aeneid etc.—Jouvancy: Caesar, Cicero’s De Officiis.—Greek: St. Chrysostom (select Homilies), Xenophon.—Jouvancy: Orations of Isocrates.

Humanities (Freshman). Latin: Cicero, especially ethical writings and easier orations. Caesar, Sallust, Livy, Curtius etc.; of the poets, above all Virgil (Aeneid); Odes of Horace, etc.—Greek: Orations of Isocrates, St. Chrysostom, St. Basil, Epistles of Plato,⁠[643] and Synesius, selections from Plutarch; of the poets: Homer, Phocylides, Theognis etc. Nadal prescribes besides: Aristophanes.

Rhetoric (Sophomore). Latin: Rhetorical works and orations of Cicero; Quintilian; historians. Jouvancy: Livy, Tacitus, Suetonius etc.; poets (not specified by the Ratio); Jouvancy: Seneca, Juvenal etc.—Greek: Demosthenes, Plato, Thucydides, Homer, Hesiod, Pindar etc.; also St. Gregory Nazianzen, St. Basil, and St. Chrysostom.—Jouvancy: Sophocles or Euripides.—Nadal prescribes Demosthenes, Thucydides, the tragedians, Pindar, and “all the more important and more difficult authors.”⁠[644]

[374]

From this last statement, and in fact from the whole list, it appears that all the important authors were included in the Jesuit plan, and that those who made the sweeping assertion that “the greatest Greek authors were all excluded from the Jesuit schools,”⁠[645] have not looked at the documents of the Society. All the most important authors were explicitly prescribed. It is evident that not all the authors which are mentioned could be read. The different provinces of the Society drew up lists, or catalogues of authors, which varied in different years. Thus in the Province of Upper Germany in 1602–1604 a catalogus perpetuus was drawn up, i. e. a list of authors to be read every four or five years. We subjoin the list of the books for Rhetoric class.⁠[646]

In the Province of the Rhine in Rhetoric class were read:

These lists represent a considerable amount of reading from the best authors. Modern writers object to some of the authors recommended by the Ratio. However, to avoid unfairness, it should not be forgotten that the opinions held in former ages about certain authors were different from those current at present. The same objections can be made against Protestant school plans of former centuries. Thus Melanchthon, as well as the Jesuits, considered the smaller poems formerly attributed to Homer, v. g. the Batrachomyomachia, as a fit school classic. Also Hesiod, Aratus, Plutarch, and Lucian are recommended by Melanchthon.⁠[647]

Catullus, Tibullus, Propertius, the Disticha Catonis, Aurelius Victor, Eutropius, Lucan, Pliny, Prudentius, [376]Publilius, Sedulius, Seneca, Severus, Vellejus, Aelian, Aesop, Cebes, Hesiod, Lucian, Phocylides, Plutarch, Pythagoras, Theognis etc., were read in the Protestant schools of Brunswick and other countries.⁠[648] Besides, in these schools the works of the Neo-Latinists, as Buchanan, Castalio, Eobanus Hessus, Erasmus, Lotichius, Sabinus, Sleidanus and others, were read more extensively than in the Jesuit schools, which confined themselves almost exclusively to the ancient classics. As the ancient authors possess a far superior educational value, the choice of the Jesuits betokens great pedagogical wisdom.

It is evident that authors like Theognis, Phocylides, etc. are not read in modern Jesuit schools. In fact the Jesuits have, in the choice of authors, suited their schools to the times.

It may also be questioned whether it is advisable to read selections from Cicero’s letters in the lowest classes, as they can be given only piecemeal; they furnish an excellent subject for higher classes, after the students have become acquainted with Roman history. For the lowest class good connected pieces, short stories from history, mythology etc., as found in Latin Readers, will serve the purpose better than Cicero’s letters. In the next class the Lives of Nepos may be taken up, followed by the study of Caesar’s Commentaries in the third. Such a plan was suggested by the German province as early as 1830. In the propositions sent to Rome in that year it was said that Cicero’s letters, with very few exceptions, require a considerable knowledge of Roman history and should [377]be replaced by select historical passages etc. from the writings of the same author.⁠[649]

Father Jouvancy, in several chapters of his Ratio Discendi, gives brief notes on the most important Latin and Greek authors and their characteristics, “to show,” as he says, “in what order they should be read and what fruit may be derived from their study.”⁠[650] A few of his remarks, as is to be expected, cannot stand in the light of modern philological and historical criticism. However, for the greater part his observations are most judicious and correct. We shall embody the substance of these chapters of Jouvancy in the following notes on the authors, supplementing them from the splendid History of Universal Literature of Father Baumgartner,⁠[651] and comparing them with the opinions of other prominent scholars.⁠[652]

§ 2. Latin Prose Writers.

Cicero is first and preeminently prescribed by the Ratio for every grade. And rightly so, if we except the lowest classes. For he is the master of the Latin language and the best representative of ancient culture, indeed, as regards Latin oratory, the only representative.⁠[653] In former times, particularly during the [378]Renaissance, Cicero was overestimated; now, after the sweeping condemnations of Drumann, Froude, and Mommsen, it has become the fashion to treat him with contempt. Cicero finds a more sympathetic, and we think more just, treatment at the hands of the great Cardinal Newman, in his Personal and Literary Character of Cicero,⁠[654] where the life of this gifted Roman, his works, and his style are admirably described. Cicero’s style is so splendid and masterly that the greatest of the Romans, Caesar, could not help admiring his inventive powers, which, as Newman says, “constitute him the greatest master of composition that the world has seen.” Of late years a healthy reaction has set in against the vagaries of such radical critics as Mommsen and Froude. Quite recently Professor von Wilamowitz of the University of Berlin, stated emphatically: “In spite of Mommsen, Cicero must remain the centre of Latin instruction.”⁠[655]

Which works of Cicero are to be read? The Ratio Studiorum and other documents mention his epistles, orations, philosophical and rhetorical works. Some specimens of all these should be studied.

I. Of his orations the following deserve especially to be read.⁠[656]

1. Verrinae I, IV, V; in the fourth, De Signis, the marvellous grouping of the material is highly instructive. 2. De Imperio Cn. Pompei (De Lege Manilia), has a most lucid disposition. 3. In Catilinam, [379]especially the first and third exhibit a splendid eloquence. 4. Pro Milone, distinguished by masterly argumentation. 5. One or other of the Philippicae (the second seems to be the best). 6. Pro Ligario. 7. Pro Marcello. 8. Pro Archia Poeta (contains a magnificent passage on the Liberal Arts).—Cicero’s invectives (against Catiline and Anthony) are sometimes wanting in gravity, and are too declamatory; his laudatory orations, on the other hand, are among his happiest efforts. But all abound in descriptions full of life and nature, and his skill in amplification is unsurpassed.

II. Philosophical writings:

1. The finest part is his Somnium Scipionis, on the immortality of the soul, (in his De Republica, which cannot well be read on account of the many gaps in the text).⁠[657] 2. Cato Major, or De Senectute, is clear and easy, and is better than Laelius: De Amicitia.⁠[658] 3. De Officiis is well fitted for the highest classes. 4. The Disputationes Tusculanae, especially lib. 1, form good and relatively easy reading.⁠[659]

III. Rhetorical Works. De Oratore, Orator ad Brutum etc., are read in Rhetoric class (Sophomore).

IV. The Letters of Cicero form the most valuable, as well as the largest, collection of letters (870 pieces) [380]we possess of any of the ancients. They are the most important source for the history of this remarkable period. In a very pleasant manner the writer exposes all his good and weak points: his honest, although short-sighted patriotism, his affectionate heart, his fickleness, inconstancy and vanity. Drumann and Mommsen, who take his naive confessions in a wrong light, are too severe on Cicero. Professor Mommsen is altogether biased against Cicero in favor of his hero Caesar. Mr. T. Rice Holmes has well said with reference to Mommsen: “Historical imagination is a great quality, but it should not be allowed to run riot.”⁠[660]

These letters are an excellent subject for study in the middle or higher classes. A selection can easily be made so as to illustrate Cicero’s stormy career from 62–43 B. C., as well as to reflect the whole history of that period fraught with events, which were to change the world’s history. For this purpose the following selection used to be read in a Jesuit college of this country: Ad Fam. V, 1; V, 2; Ad Att. II, 22; Ad Fam. XIV, 4; Ad Att. IV, 1; Ad Fam. VII, 1; XIV, 4; Ad Att. VII, 11; Ad Fam. XVI, 12; Ad Att. VIII, 3 (Cicero’s opinion of Pompey and Caesar); Ad Att. IX, 18 (a highly interesting description of Cicero’s interview with Caesar); Ad Att. XII, 18; Ad Fam. IV, 5 and 6; Ad Att. XIV, 12; Ad Fam. XI, 27 and 28; XI, 1; IX, 14; XII, 4; X, 28, etc.⁠[661]

[381]

The translation of Cicero should be exquisite and polished, as is the noble and refined diction of the original.⁠[662]

Caesar. Of the character of this “greatest of the Romans,” Mommsen has given a splendid delineation in his Roman History, although this sketch is overdrawn and entertaining rather than convincing. We have here to do with Caesar only as historian, particularly as the writer of the Commentaries on the Gallic War. For simple straightforward historical style these commentaries remain up to this day, an unsurpassed model.⁠[663] Caesar’s style is remarkable for clearness, ease, perfect equality of expression, and a simplicity bordering on severity. There is something of the imperator or the dictator in his very language. He commands style and language as he does his legions. After the first difficulties are overcome, the reading ought to be quick, as that of all histories and epics in general. Continual references are to be made to the maps. Drawings and plans, illustrating the descriptions of battles and sieges, will arouse interest and facilitate the understanding of the text. The translation of this author, quite different from that of Cicero, should be plain and forcible, like the original itself. From the historical standpoint it must not be overlooked that Caesar’s Commentaries are not an unbiased historical work, but one written for a political purpose, viz., the justification of his proceedings in Gaul. The great general was also a skilled strategist in writing, a master in the art of grouping events, so [382]as to represent his measures as justified without losing the appearance of strict historic objectivity. In particular the speeches are frequently clever partisan writings. From the ethical point of view it will be also necessary to indicate occasionally the brutality of this great imperialist in dealing with the Gallic and German tribes. Roman military antiquities should be studied in connection with the reading of the Commentaries,⁠[664] while the civil, political and social antiquities are best treated in connection with the study of Cicero. So it was done in the Jesuit schools under the name of “general erudition.”

Livy’s great history of Rome is not a critical work, but a popular narrative, written with the warmth of an enthusiastic patriot. His Latin is not as elegant and grand as Cicero’s, but is, as Jouvancy says, “forcible and dignified.”⁠[665] In a period of moral decadence he upheld the old virtus Romana, which had made Rome the queen of the world. Of special beauty are the speeches which Livy makes his heroes deliver in important moments. They form part and parcel of his narrative and dramatically exhibit the inner feelings of the principal personages. Books I and II should be read; but above all XXI and XXII, the glowing account of the second Punic War, especially Hannibal’s daring exploit in crossing the Alps.—Care must be taken to analyze his periods and to render them into shorter English sentences.

Sallust, in his Bellum Jugurthinum and Conjuratio Catilinae, of which latter event he was a contemporary, [383]gives an insight into the political machinations and the corruptions of Roman society. His style is carefully formed after that of Thucydides, and is distinguished for vigor and conciseness, but becomes sometimes sententious and abrupt. He is also censured for archaic expressions, and on the whole, lacks graceful ease and smoothness. The delineations of character, (e. g. of Catiline, Jugurtha, Marius), have always been considered masterpieces. Jouvancy rightly says: “Sallust exhibits an abundance of material and a wealth of ideas.”

Tacitus is the greatest historian of Rome, if not of antiquity.⁠[666] He was a stern Roman of the old stamp, an enthusiastic admirer of the virtus Romana, which in his time had almost totally vanished. But the sad condition of his time made him gloomy, pessimistic, and one-sided. “Tacitus and Juvenal paint the deathbed of pagan Rome; they have no eyes to see the growth of new Rome, with its universal citizenship, its universal Church (first of the Emperors, afterwards of Christ).... The Empire outraged the old republican tradition, that the provincial was naturally inferior to the Roman: but this, which is the greatest crime in the eyes of Tacitus, is precisely what constitutes its importance in the history of the world.”⁠[667] Tacitus’ sympathetic description of the simple and incorrupt manners of the Germans, in his Germania, was intended to set the Roman corruptions in a more glaring light, and is evidently too much idealized. In psychological depth, warmth of feeling, and vigor of expression, Tacitus surpasses even Thucydides. [384]His style is dignified, manly, studiously devoid of everything feminine and merely ornamental; it is so brief and concise, as to be often obscure. Jouvancy says most appropriately: “His sentiments are striking and profound, so that only deep reflection can fathom them, and mere reading is not sufficient.”⁠[668] For these reasons his Annales and Historiae are the proper reading only for the highest classes and for mature men.

Of other Latin prose authors not much need be said. Cornelius Nepos’ Biographies of Great Generals, written in a simple style, form easy and instructive reading for the lowest classes.—During the Middle Ages, as well as in the first centuries of the Christian era, one of the favorite authors was Seneca. The reason is obvious. No philosopher of antiquity has approached the Christian view of life as closely as Seneca, so that a legend sprang up that the Roman had become acquainted with St. Paul and Christianity. Tertullian says: Seneca saepe noster, and Augustine, Jerome, and Lactantius appeal to his testimony. His letters contain the loftiest moral sentiments,—in sharp contrast with the author’s life—; “whole letters, with few changes, might have been delivered in the pulpit by Bourdaloue and Massillon.”⁠[669] However, it is questionable whether Seneca’s works are suitable reading for young pupils. A distinguished critic says: “Seneca is not to be read. His every sentence must have a sharp [385]point, a striking antithesis. This is no wholesome food for boys.”⁠[670] Jouvancy seems to say the same, when he speaks of the “abruptness and ruggedness of Seneca’s style.”

§ 3. Latin Poets.

Phaedrus wrote several books of fables, partly translations, partly imitations of the famous fables of Aesop. The gracefulness, precision, elegance, and simplicity of style, make the fables of Phaedrus excellent reading to start with in lower classes. Besides, his sound moral precepts afford other pedagogical advantages.

Ovid is the most gifted of Roman poets, more brilliant than Virgil, unsurpassed in his power of describing and “painting,” and in his ease and fluency of versification. Father Jouvancy, in a few words, expresses the best judgment that can be passed on this writer: “Would that he were as chaste and pure as he is elegant and pleasing.” This is only too true. Therefore, his works must be read with great caution. There are some of his productions of whose existence young students should be ignorant. The Amores, Ars Amandi, Remedia Amoris, cannot be condemned in too strong terms. The poet himself confesses: “Nil nisi lascivi per me discuntur amores.” Critics, who cannot be suspected of squeamishness or religious prejudice, have severely censured the erotic poems of Ovid, as “gems of frivolousness, handbooks of lasciviousness, which on young readers must produce the effects of sweet poison that enters into the [386]very marrow.”⁠[671] In some parts of the second and third book of the Ars Amandi, the poet burns a firework, the stench of which leaves no doubt as to where we are. The poison is all the more dangerous as it is offered sweetened with the virgin honey of genuine poetic diction.⁠[672] But even the Metamorphoses contain many seductive passages, for which reason only selections should be in the hands of the pupils.

The Metamorphoses are the most important work for class reading. There is, on the whole, not very much depth of feeling or thought, but myth after myth is related, in a marvellous variety of detailed description, in a most fascinating style, and in a truly Homeric naiveté. Indeed Ovid has little of the stern Roman character; he has more of the gay, imaginative Greek. As regards his style, the elegance and unlabored ease of his versification is unrivalled. He says himself of his facility in writing verses: Et quod temptabam dicere, versus erat.⁠[673] The brilliancy of his imagination, the liveliness of his wit, the wonderful art of bringing every scene distinctly before the eye, whether he describes the palace of the Sun-God or the cottage of Philemon, have been universally admired. If properly treated, Ovid will please and delight boys. Above all, the account of the primeval chaos and creation should be read. It is, as Father Baumgartner says, “clear and grand and forms the noblest and most beautiful cosmogony which classical antiquity and the pagan Orient have handed down.”⁠[674] [387]Then should be read the four ages of the world, the war with the giants, the deluge, Phaeton (perhaps the most splendid and highly poetical of his efforts), Niobe, and the lovely idyl Philemon and Baucis.

The translation of Ovid should be easy and fluent. The students should be encouraged to translate Ovid into English verse. The study of Greek and Oriental mythology can easily be connected with the study of the Metamorphoses. Father Jouvancy, in an appendix to his edition of select stories from the Metamorphoses, gives a short, but useful account of the various deities.

Nägelsbach thinks it foolish to torment boys of fourteen or fifteen years with the Tristia or Epistolae ex Ponto, as a youthful mind could not take interest in those perpetual lamentations. A few pieces, however, may be read with advantage, v. g. the departure from Rome, or the poet’s autobiography (Ep. ex Ponto IV, 10), etc.

Virgil is “the Prince of Latin poets” (Jouvancy), “the greatest poet of the Augustan age, the most celebrated imitator of Homer, the master and model of Dante,⁠[675] the favorite of Augustus and Maecenas, the friend, whom Horace calls ‘the half of my soul’,⁠[676] and the anima candida, the stainless soul, the ‘Virgin poet’, as he was styled in Naples.”⁠[677] His language is not as easy and as fluent as that of Ovid, but is grand, noble and stately; but in his ideas and lofty sentiments, Virgil is infinitely superior to Ovid.

In modern times Virgil has been severely censured—for [388]not being Homer. Indeed, he is inferior to Homer in many, in very many points. But let it not be forgotten that his epic is an entirely different species of poetry. It belongs to the artistic or literary epic, whereas Homer’s is primitive epic. Hence it would be unfair to judge both according to the same standard. Virgil is an imitator of Homer, and did not come up to his master. For this the critics censure him, but they should remember the words of Voltaire: “Homer has made Virgil, they say; if this be true, it is undoubtedly his finest work.”⁠[678]

In his Eclogues or Pastorals Virgil imitates the Greek idyls of Theocritus. But he is not as varied, lively and natural—at the same time not as coarse—as his Greek model. Theocritus’ Idyls are genuine Pastorals, full of rural simplicity of thought and unadorned style, whereas Virgil’s Pastorals are rather political allegories. For a full appreciation they require much learning, and hence they are less fitted for younger boys. The first, however, and above all the celebrated fourth Eclogue, should be read. On account of this fourth Eclogue, the poet was considered as a prophet during the Middle Ages. The mysterious prediction of the son, with whose birth—as the Sybils foretold—, the golden age was to return, naturally reminds us of the prophetic passages of Isaias. Virgil evidently refers to the son of a noble Roman, most probably of Asinius Pollio; but it is highly probable that he borrowed the idea and some details from Old Testament writings, whose contents, especially the expectation of a Redeemer, had become [389]known through the Jews in the dispersion.⁠[679] Pope’s Messiah, a Sacred Eclogue, should be read in connection with this fourth Eclogue of Virgil.

The four books of the Georgics are the best didactic production in Roman literature. They have been styled poetical essays on the dignity of labor, as set against the warlike glory, that was the popular theme of the day. This is Virgil’s most characteristic work, which breathes the genuine air of Italy. The language is magnificent, superior to that of the Aeneid. The work abounds in beautiful descriptions and contains charming episodes. It is not advisable to read the whole work, as the student will not be satisfied with such a topic. Select passages, however, may be studied in class, especially from book II, and book IV (the life of the bees: their little state, character, pursuits, and wars).

Virgil’s greatest work, the Aeneid, is in many points an imitation of both Iliad and Odyssey; but in its spirit it is a national poem in the best sense of the word, “a reflection and an echo of all the grandeur of the history of Rome,”⁠[680] a prophetia post factum. By a most ingenious device, the poet succeeded in exhibiting, and, as it were, foreshadowing the greatness of historical Rome in its legendary history. How bold and successful, for instance, is it to connect the legendary ancestor of the Roman rulers with Dido, [390]the foundress of Carthage. Her imprecation: “Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor,” is the most clever and most poetical conception of the Punic wars. Then take the sixth book, where Aeneas, in a grand vision, sees all the future splendor and glory of Rome, and show in Homer’s poems, or in any other work, a passage of nobler, more majestic and more poetical character. It is true, the hero of the poem, Aeneas, does not inspire the reader. He lacks the fiery passion and impetuous vigor of Achilles, the chivalrous spirit of Hector, the inventiveness and cunning of Odysseus. But he is more than all that: he is the chosen instrument of Divine Providence for bringing about the greatest achievement in human history: “the settlement of that race in Italy, from which were to spring the founders of Rome.” Only narrow prejudice, therefore, can depreciate Virgil’s immortal work. Rightly has a Jesuit said: “This grand picture warmed with strong national and religious enthusiasm, elevated by the consciousness of Roman majesty and dignity, illumined by the light of a higher world, outweighs many a beautiful passage of the Iliad. This is not merely frosty imitation, not studied artifice, this is poetry, as it can well forth only from the inspired heart of a true poet. This noble idealism and genuine enthusiasm is the soul and the life-inspiring principle of the whole poem.”⁠[681]

I think it is Nägelsbach who says, that every classical scholar should study carefully all the works of Virgil. For the pupils, of course, selections must suffice. But, as far as possible, these selections should give a view of the whole poem. The I. book, the II. [391](compare Lessing’s Laokoon), the V., and above all the VI., should not be omitted. In reading the sixth book, references to Dante’s Inferno should be given throughout. The translation of Virgil is no easy task; it ought to be noble and dignified.

Horace is the great lyric poet of Rome. His Epistles and Satires, carefully selected, make good reading for Freshman Class, his Odes for Sophomore. There is a great variety in his poems. All show good sense, clear judgment, extraordinary taste and elegance. His descriptions of nature are true, portrait-like, vivid and very effective. With the greatest candor he opens his heart to his friends, without disguising his weaknesses. His shorter poems are light, graceful and tender. The patriotic Odes are very different. They show the poet’s aim at effecting some large social or political purpose and consequently rise to a grander and more dignified tone. Although reckoning himself among the followers of Epicurus (Epicuri de grege porcum), he rises above the coarser tenets of that school, and many of his sayings contain much practical wisdom. He is, as Lord Lytton says, the most “quotable” of authors.⁠[682] He is not easy of translation.

The comedies of Plautus and Terence, as Jouvancy says, are written in pure Latin, but contain many impure things, for which reason they should be studied in expurgated editions. This point is strongly insisted on by the Ratio Studiorum.

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§ 4. Greek Prose Writers.

Before speaking of the Greek authors, it may be well to make a few observations of fundamental import. There is a difference between the study of Greek and of Latin, which seems to be well expressed in the “Prussian School Order” of 1892 and 1901. There we find as the object of studying Latin: “The understanding of the principal authors and logical training;” as the object of the study of Greek: “The understanding of the principal classical authors.” A similar distinction was made centuries ago by the Jesuits. As early as 1669 Father Fabri wrote: “To write and to speak Greek is not necessary. An educated man must, according to the adage, speak Latin, understand Greek, and read Hebrew. Latine loquatur, Graece intelligat, Hebraice legat.”⁠[683] It is evident that the study of Greek contributes also to the logical training of the mind, but it ought not to be sought so directly as in Latin. The Latin language with its rigorous syntax seems to be better fitted for that purpose. It is different with Greek. In a former chapter,⁠[684] we mentioned that Latin grammar was eminently logic, and its study a course of applied logic. “Greek on the other hand, might almost be called a course of aesthetics, by means of which we learn to distinguish a thousand gradations of meaning which our barbarous languages will not allow us to accentuate.”⁠[685] However, the principal object of the study of Greek is the [393]reading of the Greek classics. “The Greeks are for us not one of the civilized nations of antiquity, but the civilized nation (das Kulturvolk), which has given us the models for all kinds of literary productions.”⁠[686] And Father Baumgartner observes: “The intellectual culture of the Greeks became a power which not only survived their political decadence, but for all coming centuries exercised a decisive influence on the development of the world’s culture.”⁠[687]

In order to attain this object of the study of Greek, the reading of authors should be begun as soon as possible. Etymology should be limited to the essentials occurring in the authors which form the staple reading in colleges. The old grammars contain many forms which never or quite exceptionally are met with in the course of reading. To this class belong many rare forms of declension, comparison, exceptional augments and reduplications, and, above all, numerous irregular verbs. They should be left out, as has been done in the best modern grammars.⁠[688] The Jesuits always favored brief textbooks, “perquam breves,” says a document in 1829.⁠[689] This was in accordance with their fundamental principle: Pauca praecepta, multa exempta, exercitatio plurima.

Greek syntax may at first not be taught systematically but inductively, incidentally, as the rules are [394]met with in reading. Then the various rules are to be put together systematically. Important rules (the use of Subjunctive and Optative, the position of the article, and the like) should be learned with the practice of the forms. The various conditional clauses, the meaning of tenses (especially of the Aorist), and the use of the participles must be well explained. These points are the whole Greek Syntax in nuce.⁠[690] The study of vocables should be a direct preparation for the future reading of authors. Many vocables, found in exercise-books in vogue during the last century, are altogether useless to this end. This evil arose from the system of confining Greek reading for two years to translating unconnected sentences. According to the spirit of the Ratio, the reading of connected pieces, easy narratives and easy authors, should be begun as soon as possible.

The best author to begin with is Xenophon. For the sweetness and graceful simplicity of his language he was styled the “Attic Bee.” In former times his Cyropaedia was the favorite book, also in Jesuit colleges. But this work is not as easy, nor as interesting as the Anabasis. The Anabasis, or The Retreat of the Ten Thousand, is a book most fit for youth,⁠[691] and a good preparation for Herodotus. The speeches which are interwoven with the narrative prepare for the reading of Demosthenes. The geographical and ethnographical details about Asia Minor will prove useful [395]for the study of the Acts of the Apostles (Travels of St. Paul) and of the Crusades. Books I-IV should be read with maps, and with the plans of battles drawn on paper or on the blackboard. If this is done, and the reading is not too slow, the boys will take a real interest in the clear and simple narrative of battles and marches through the countries of hostile tribes. Boys delight in warfare and travels.—Whether the Memorabilia should be read is questionable, as a better picture of Socrates will afterwards be given in Plato’s works. After the Anabasis selections may be read from the Cyropaedia and the Hellenica.

Herodotus, the “Father of History”, as Cicero styles him, is a most attractive author. He seems not to have been read in the colleges of the Old Society. In modern times, in many plans of study, he receives more attention; some selections may well be read, especially such stories as have been taken into the literatures of all civilized nations. In their original garb they will exercise a special charm on account of their naive character.

Thucydides, the “Father of Pragmatic and Political History,” wrote the history of the first part of the Peloponnesian War. He ranks very high as historian, being distinguished for critical spirit, accurate research, and severe impartiality. His style is concise, often so concise as to degenerate into obscurity. This conciseness and the depth of thought make him a difficult author for young students. In the highest class, choice passages may be read: v. g. the plague in Athens, the funeral oration of Pericles. Demosthenes was an ardent admirer of the harangues of Thucydides, and the two great Roman historians, Sallust and Tacitus, have taken him for their model.

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Plato. Plato is recommended in the Ratio as one of the authors for Rhetoric class; in modern Jesuit colleges Plato is mostly read in Freshman class, for which he is an excellent author. In the words of a Jesuit critic, “Greek philosophy is one of the choicest fruits of Greek culture which, together with Greek poetry, history and oratory, was destined to form the basis of the culture of the Western nations.”⁠[692] Plato, one of the greatest thinkers of all ages, vaguely felt and presaged some of the grand religious and moral truths which were to be clearly revealed by Christ. Thus he became the παιδαγωγὸς εἰς Χριστόν. No philosopher, in fact no writer of antiquity, exerted a greater influence on the early Christian writers. His many errors, mixed with some Christian truth, gave rise to numerous heresies in the earlier centuries, and misled even gigantic intellects like that of Origen. On the other hand, as Father Baumgartner observes, “numerous minds, searching after truth, have through his writings been raised out of the depths of materialism to the purer heights of idealistic speculations.”⁠[693]

In Plato, there is, in the words of his disciple Aristotle, “a middle species of diction, between prose and verse,” and Cicero said: “If Jupiter were to speak in the Greek tongue, he would use the language of Plato.”⁠[694] Some of his dialogues are so sublime, so harmonious, so rhythmical, that they may truly be [397]styled poetical. There are not many which, both for contents and style, can be read in colleges. Best suited for this purpose are the Apology and Crito. The Apology, or Defense of Socrates, the only work of Plato which is not in the form of a dialogue, probably contains the substance of the answer Socrates made to the insidious charges of his accusers. The tone is throughout fearless, at times even defiant, the accused merely pleading that, whatever he did, was done at the bidding of the divinity, who spoke to him through a mysterious inner voice, and that all his doings were directed towards improving the minds and morals of his fellow-citizens. It is, on the whole, grand and elevating reading. A Jesuit professor and distinguished critic, Father Stiglmayr, wrote recently: “What a pity, if youths should no longer drink inspiration from such a source!”⁠[695]

In the Crito we find Socrates in prison, during the interval between his condemnation and death. Crito advises him to fly, Socrates refuses, “as it was not allowed a good citizen to withdraw from proper authority and violate the laws of the state.” The dialogue contains very fine passages.

The Phaedo is one of the most remarkable of Plato’s dialogues. It relates a conversation held shortly before the death of Socrates, in which the great Athenian undertakes to prove the immortality of the soul. The last chapters narrate in a touching manner, how, when [398]the summons came, Socrates with much composure and tranquillity of mind, drank the fatal cup, in the midst of his weeping friends. This dialogue may be read, as Nägelsbach says, with a good class of students. It is always advisable to read the Apology, then the Crito, and finally the last chapters of the Phaedo. Thus the students will get a clear picture of the whole life and the heroic death of the most remarkable man of antiquity.

Demosthenes. Rhetorical talent was a gift common to all Greeks. The splendid speeches in Homer’s poems are not accidental fictions, but the expressions of old traditions, of national manners and peculiarities. The diplomatic Agamemnon, the subtle Odysseus, the passionate Achilles, the conciliatory Nestor are oratorical types which were renewed in the life of the Greeks from generation to generation.⁠[696] Greek oratory reached its zenith in Demosthenes, the “prince of orators”. The Ratio Studiorum assigns his masterly orations to the highest class of the literary curriculum, which is, indeed, the proper place for this author. One or other of the Olynthiacs or Philippics should be studied, as was done early in Jesuit colleges. It may be questioned whether it is possible to do justice to the oration On the Crown, except with a very good class of pupils. This speech is not only the masterpiece of Demosthenes, but is regarded as the most perfect specimen that eloquence has ever produced.

A word must here be said on the reading of the Greek New Testament. Professor Bristol says that the present ignorance of the Greek New Testament on [399]the part of the people who have had a classical education is little short of disgrace, and he wishes that it should be read an hour a week.⁠[697] This is exactly what was done in many colleges of the Old Society, as may be seen from Father Kropf’s programme of 1736, in which the reading of the Greek Gospel (chiefly that of St. Luke), is prescribed for every Saturday in the fourth and fifth classes, and the Acts of the Apostles for Rhetoric (Sophomore).⁠[698]

§ 5. Greek Poets.

Homer is “the Father of Poetry.” He was truly the “educator of Greece” and influenced the literature of all coming ages as no other writer ever has done. To dwell on his excellence, would merely be, as the Greek adage has it, γλαῦκ’ εἰς ἈΘήνας. The Odyssey and Iliad should be read so as to give the pupil a perfect view of the whole. There are but few passages which cannot be read with boys. Homer is very naive and outspoken, as, in general, ancient literature is more honest, direct, and straightforward than modern literature, which often merely suggests what is offensive. But this very suggestiveness makes modern writings more insidious, as the mind is set thinking to find out what is meant. Homer is never licentious; the song in the Odyssey which is most objectionable is put into the mouth of another bard, and even in this song there is no glorification of sin, no mistake as to what is right or wrong. This straightforwardness in delicate matters must not offend the mature reader, or he must also [400]object to Holy Scripture. It is evident that not all passages of Scripture are to be read by the young, no more than many of the profane writers. As to Homer, Jouvancy says very appositely: “A few comparisons which are somewhat low, and other traces of primeval simplicity and of a naiveté no longer known, must not shock any one. Every sensible reader will also make allowances for the lies and other crimes which the pagan writer imputes to his gods.”⁠[699] If single lines with rather objectionable contents occur, the only way is to translate them correctly, but in careful and decent expressions, which have to be thought out beforehand; to omit them would almost surely lead some pupils to study them out at home. To give a wrong translation is dishonest, and “the end does not justify the means.” Besides, as all sorts of translations may be had from our public libraries, and actually are in the hands of the students, such a fraud would be detected and would surely undermine the confidence of the pupils in their teacher. When the first passage is met with, the teacher may call attention to the above mentioned characteristics of ancient literature, sacred as well as profane. If a few prudent and grave remarks of this kind are made, the pupils will not suffer any harm from such reading.

We have said above that the epic dialect is to be studied inductively. When the first difficulties are overcome, the pupils will begin to like Homer, provided the teacher is what he ought to be. The introductions of the Odyssey and Iliad, as also other passages from Greek and Latin poetry, should be learned [401]by heart. As of Virgil’s Aeneid, so also of the Odyssey and Iliad, the whole cannot be studied. But care should be taken that the selections are such as to give the pupils a clear view of the whole work.⁠[700] The translation of Homer must be simple and natural. Anglo-Saxon words ought to prevail.⁠[701] It has been previously stated, and it is self-evident, that the teaching of antiquities, descriptions of the life and manners of the heroic age, should accompany the reading of Homer.⁠[702]

It is not necessary to dwell on the Greek Tragedies, and their importance for the higher classes of the literary curriculum. The Ratio does not mention them in particular; but Sophocles and Euripides are recommended by Jouvancy, and they were read in the colleges, as appears from the catalogues given on previous pages.⁠[703]—The amount of the world’s best literature, with which the student in the Jesuit Colleges was made acquainted, is certainly not insignificant.

The aim proposed by the Ratio Studiorum is a great and noble one, which tasks the undivided energy of able and experienced men. Does the Society fit the teachers for this work? This is a most important question. However good and excellent a system may be, it is of little avail if the teachers know not how to apply it, or if they apply it badly. Professor Münsterberg rightly insists on the truth that all effective school reform must start with a reform of teachers. “Just as it has been said that war needs three things, money, money, and again money, so it can be said with much greater truth that education needs, not forces and buildings, not pedagogy and demonstrations, but only men, men, and again men,—without forbidding that some, not too many of them, shall be women. The right kind of men is what the schools need; they have the wrong kind. They need teachers whose interest in the subject would banish all drudgery, and they have teachers whose pitiable unpreparedness makes the class work either so superficial that the pupils do not learn anything, or, if it is taken seriously, so dry and empty that it is a vexation for children and teachers alike. To produce anything equivalent to the teaching staff from whose guidance I benefited in my boyhood, no one ought to be allowed to teach in a grammar school who has not passed through a college or a good normal school; no one ought to teach [403]in a high school who has not worked, after his college course, at least two years in the graduate school of a good university; no one ought to teach in a college who has not taken his doctor’s degree in one of the best universities; and no one ought to teach in a graduate school who has not shown his mastery of method by powerful scientific publications. We have instead a misery which can be characterized by one statistical fact: only two per cent of the school teachers possess any degree whatever.”⁠[704]

It would certainly be an ideal state, if all teachers came up to the Professor’s requirements, as laid down in this proposition; but one may justly object to the importance assigned to the doctor’s degree and the scientific publications, as necessary requisites for teaching. Although this degree and productive scholarship are very desirable, still we must consider it a mistake to expect from them alone or even chiefly the men needed in our educational institutions. The present writer, in his own school days, had some teachers who neither possessed the doctor’s degree—of course they all had undergone the “State examinations”—nor had published any books, and yet as teachers were far superior to others who possessed the doctor’s degree and had published books. Scholarship and capability for teaching are by no means identical. Too much weight has been given of late to scholarship in preference to practical experience, combined, as is understood, with a sufficient knowledge of the matter to be taught. The documents of the Society insist strongly that the teacher should thoroughly master the subject which he is to teach. Father Ledesma wrote [404]three hundred years ago: “In all classes the teachers should be such that they could teach a much higher class” [than that which is actually assigned to them],⁠[705] and Father Nadal said: “All the professors should be distinguished in their respective branches, and no one can teach in the classes of Humanities and Rhetoric (Freshman and Sophomore) who is not a Master of Arts.”⁠[706] In these words Father Nadal virtually lays down as a postulate what Professor Münsterberg wants, namely, that the professors in the college course should have the doctor’s degree. But the Society attached still greater weight to skill in teaching than scholarship, and we think rightly so.

Within the last two years this question of the relation of scholarship to teaching has received more attention than before, and some articles in leading reviews and periodicals found one of the reasons of the decline of teaching exactly in the excess of scholarship. It was especially the New York Nation which in the spring of 1900 brought the topic before the eyes of the public. On March 8, 1900, the Nation had an editorial on The Decline of Teaching, in which we find this statement: “It is at least a curious coincidence that the development of the modern science of pedagogy, with its array of physiological and psychological data, should have been accompanied by a distinct decline in the prominence of the teacher. No one, we suppose, will question that the number of great teachers is less now than it once was, and that the depleted ranks are not being adequately filled up. While this dearth of teaching power, notwithstanding the persistent [405]efforts to overcome it, is characteristic of all departments of education, it is especially noticeable in the colleges and universities; perhaps in no single respect, indeed, does the average college of the present day contrast more sharply with the college of a generation or two ago.” On March 22, the Nation published the following correspondence. “Your editorial upon the Decline of Teaching ought to arouse very general solicitude throughout the profession: it gives notable emphasis to the condition which some of us have perceived for several years, although, so far as I am aware, stress has not hitherto been laid upon it in any public way. Your statement of the facts implies, without directly asserting, both the magnitude of the evil and its causes. Possibly both of these should receive, at the proper time and place, more extended and more exhaustive consideration.... In the upper schools—high schools and colleges—the evil which has brought about the decline of teaching is an entirely different one. There is no evidence that the pseudo-pedagogy has won any hold on these men, except as subjects for wise admonitions to elementary teachers. The evil here is that original research has been confounded with true teaching. Original research is an independent profession, worthy of all honor and respect, but its processes are not in any essential or fundamental way those of education. We can never bring back to our colleges the nobler ideals of character and culture until we separate them from an ideal which is purely that of a trade or profession. We should have a very analogous confusion if our lawyers were to contend that education consisted in mastering the process and methods of the law. In so far as our [406]colleges are converted into workshops where ‘the bounds of knowledge’ are widened, their real and greater function becomes restricted, if not forgotten.”⁠[707] Dean Briggs of Harvard College shortly after wrote as follows: “Another doubt about the new-fashioned education concerns the abnormal value set on the higher degrees. That a teacher should know his subject is obvious; but the man of intelligence and self-sacrifice who bends his energy to teaching boys will soon get enough scholarship for the purpose; whereas no amount of scholarship can make up for the want of intelligence and self-sacrifice.”⁠[708]

Many years ago Arnold had expressed the same opinion. In a letter of inquiry for a master he wrote: “What I want is a Christian and a gentleman—an active man, and one who has common sense and understands boys. I do not so much care about scholarship, as he will have immediately under him the lowest forms [classes] in the school; but yet, on second thoughts, I do care about it very much, because his pupils may be in the highest forms; and besides, I think that even the elements are best taught by a man who has a thorough knowledge of the matter. However, if one must give way, I prefer activity of mind and an interest in his work to high scholarship, for the one can be acquired more easily than the other.”⁠[709]

The views of prominent German educators are not less pronounced on this subject—and yet, no nation insists more on scholarship than the German. Says [407]one: “We have no more educators in the true sense of the word.”⁠[710] The opinion of Professor Paulsen is especially worthy of notice. We summarize what he says on this subject in his History of Higher Education. It cannot be doubted that scholarship of the teacher, as a rule, tends towards raising teaching. But it should not be overlooked that the success of a teacher depends not only upon the amount of his scientific knowledge, but as much on his inclination and practical skill for teaching. Do the latter qualities increase in proportion with the teacher’s scholarship? This is not always the case. It should be expected that, the richer, the clearer and the deeper the knowledge is, the stronger the inclination, and the facility of imparting it to others. But between philological scholarship proper and elementary instruction in Latin grammar and style, we find rather the reverse proportion. Scholarship can become an obstacle to teaching. First, it weakens the liking for it, or rather it strengthens the aversion to it. For the “drilling” in the elements of a language is undoubtedly one of the least attractive tasks to a man who feels in himself an inclination to educate the souls of the young.—Secondly, scholarship easily leads to introducing into class-instruction things that are important for the teacher’s own scientific grasp of the subject. Hence the common complaint: the more grammar and the study of antiquities increase, and the more deeply the teachers enter into these sciences, the less the pupils learn; or rather the more the pupils learn of these things, the less thoroughness and facility they acquire [408]in reading and writing; but this last is exactly what they need. From this it appears that it was in part disadvantageous to replace theologians in the gymnasia by philologians and mathematicians, a change which for a long time was wished for, undoubtedly not without good reasons. The theologian, owing to his whole training, had a tendency towards caring for the souls; an interest in the whole man was the centre of his calling,—if indeed he was an honest theologian,—not an interest in science, nor an interest in the student as student. Everything leads the theologian and the true philosopher to be an educator; the scholar, the learned specialist, may content himself with being an instructor. Add to this that the theologian through his studies was everywhere led to view things philosophically. And, after all, it is philosophy and religion alone that impel a man to communicate what he knows. He who has no philosophic views of life and of the world, has nothing to communicate; it is only the relation to some such ultimate object which gives learning pedagogical power and motives.⁠[711] Be it remembered that the man who says this is no ecclesiastic, but a layman, one of the foremost professors of the University of Berlin.

In his latest important work,⁠[712] he speaks still more emphatically on the drawbacks and dangers that menace teaching, even in the university, from scholarship. The professor, he says, considers himself in the first place not so much a teacher as a scholar, as the man [409]of science, and so scientific research appears to him nobler and more important than instruction. Consequently, it happens very easily that he becomes indifferent about perfecting himself as teacher, he devotes scarcely the necessary time to preparing his lectures, he loses interest in teaching, which is an unwelcome interruption of his researches. It is evident that no great success is to be expected from such teaching or lecturing. There are also dangers on the part of the students. Not unfrequently they are introduced too early to the specialized treatment of the sciences, before they have acquired general information about their subject. This danger is the greatest for the most talented and zealous students. If afterwards they are teachers in a gymnasium, they feel altogether out of place; nearly all they had to study in the university is inapplicable in this present position, and it takes very long before the mental equilibrium is found again. The author then points out the dangers for science. If manifestation of scholarship is required for obtaining a position as teacher, the unavoidable consequence will be a kind of “pseudo-productivity” and other evils.

Of recent utterances from England the following of the Hon. George C. Brodrick (Warden of Merton) will suffice. In an article, “Amateur Nation,” he says: “Strange to say, the higher branches of the great educational profession in England are strongholds of amateurism. The masters and mistresses of elementary schools are now well trained, and even when they teach mechanically, they teach as persons who have grasped the difficulties of teaching, and mean business, as most professionals do. But what of masters at the great public schools, grammar schools, [410]and private academies, or of the great multitude of private tutors who keep boarding houses or ‘coach’ pupils in their own houses? Not a twentieth of them have received any training whatever, or have the smallest idea that anything beyond a certain amount of scholarship and a certain power of commanding attention is required for teaching young people.” The writer then states what he thinks is needed: “It is teachers of average ability instructing pupils of average industry, not individually, but in classes, who specially need training—not of necessity in training colleges, but through close attention at lessons given by masters of tried experience.”⁠[713]

This is exactly the idea of the Ratio Studiorum. The aim is to provide teachers, who are “men of intelligence and self-sacrifice, who possess, besides an excellent general culture, a good knowledge of their subject, and who are trained through close attendance, by masters of tried experience.” Before attempting to prove this from the Constitutions of the Society and the Ratio Studiorum, we beg to make one remark. The Society does not undervalue scholarship, but, on the contrary, appreciates it highly and wishes always a considerable number of her members to possess it to an eminent degree. This is proved beyond doubt by the list of distinguished Jesuit writers given in two preceding chapters (V and VII). The Society recognizes also the value of university studies. We have quoted previously the decree of the 23rd General Congregation of the Order (1883, Decretum XXI): “It is [411]expedient to send select members to the universities to obtain the degrees which empower them to teach in the public [i. e. Government] schools.”⁠[714] We learn that the English Jesuits in late years have opened a Hall at Oxford (Pope’s Hall), to afford young members an opportunity of attending the university lectures and of taking the degrees. We learn further that a number of Jesuits from other countries are there pursuing linguistic and scientific studies. The same is done in Ireland, Belgium, Holland, Austria, France and other countries. In some places, as in Austria, several Jesuit colleges are wholly under the supervision of the government, and all the teachers have made the prescribed studies at the universities and passed the rigid “state examinations”. One of the professors of the Jesuit college at Feldkirch, Austria, has been chosen as “one of the seven prominent Latinists who are working at the great Historical Grammar of the Latin Language.”⁠[715] It is evident that in all professional schools conducted by Jesuits, as in the Medical and Law Departments of Georgetown University, Washington, D. C., the instructors and professors are able professional teachers.

As far as America is concerned there existed peculiar handicaps to the cultivation of scholarship especially in Catholic institutions. Throughout the nineteenth century missions had to be established, chapels and churches built, and missionaries found to care for the spiritual wants of a rapidly increasing population.⁠[716] [412]This work claimed the greatest part of the interest of the Catholic Church in general, and a comparatively large share of the time and energy of the members of the Society. But a teacher overburdened with work cannot devote himself to original research. Add to this the general poverty of the Catholic population, who had to support not only their churches, but also their schools, and it will be easy to understand that Catholic colleges had serious difficulties in acquiring the libraries, museums and laboratories which are essential for higher studies, and much more so for scholarly work. How much better situated are the secular institutions of learning in this country! “The National Government has, from the very beginning, made enormous grants of land and money in aid of education in the several states. The portion of public domain hitherto set apart by Congress for the endowment of public education amounts to 86,138,473 acres or 134,591 English square miles. This is an area larger than the New England States, New York, New Jersey, Maryland, and Delaware added together, as great as the kingdom of Prussia. The aggregate value of lands and money given for education by the National Government is nearly $300,000,000.”⁠[717] Besides, of the three hundred and fifteen million dollars given by private individuals within the last nine years for educational purposes,⁠[718] very little has gone to Catholic institutions.

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In spite of the liberal national and private assistance granted, the public institutions have, until a short time ago, not been overconspicuous for scholarship, as is openly declared in a number of recent articles on this subject, by Professor Münsterberg of Harvard,⁠[719] Mr. Carl Snyder,⁠[720] and Professor Simon Newcomb of the Naval Observatory, Washington.⁠[721] These writers repeat the complaints which Professor Rowland of Johns Hopkins had uttered more than twenty-five years ago.⁠[722] Professor Münsterberg, in the said article of the Atlantic Monthly, repudiates the charge that America has no scholarship at all; he affirms that the situation is infinitely better than Europeans suppose it to be—in certain branches of knowledge excellent work has been done. Nevertheless the author is compelled to continue: “And yet I am convinced that the result stands in no proper relation to the achievements of American culture in all the other aspects of national life, and the best American scholars everywhere frankly acknowledge and seriously deplore it.... American publications cross the ocean in a ridiculously small number; in the world of letters no Columbus has yet discovered the other side of the globe.”⁠[723] Years ago, Dr. McCosh had passed a similar verdict: “The scholarship of the great body of the students is as high in America as in Europe; but they rear in Great Britain and Germany a body of ripe scholars to whom we have nothing equal in the New World.”⁠[724]

[414]

Can we, then, be surprised to find that the Catholic institutions could not yet develop productive scholarship? However, as was said by many distinguished writers, productive scholarship is by no means the first requisite for an efficient teacher, much more essential are “intelligence, self-sacrifice, and close attention to lessons given by masters of tried experience.” In the next chapter we shall show that the training prescribed by the Ratio Studiorum for the young Jesuit is excellently suited to furnish him with these requisites, and thus to make of him a good teacher.⁠[725]

It is generally admitted that even at present the Jesuits exercise considerable influence in the world. What is the secret of their hold on Catholics? What the source from which their power springs? The real secret of the Jesuits’ influence is to be found in their training. Dr. Freytag in his review of Father Duhr’s work on the Ratio Studiorum remarked: “After the perusal of this learned work, one will understand that only highly talented young men can join that Order; for what is demanded of them [in the line of studies] is extraordinary.”⁠[726] We have to see how far this training of a Jesuit is a satisfactory preparation for his work as teacher in high schools and colleges, how far it tends to make the Jesuit teacher—in the words of the Hon. G. C. Brodrick—“a man of self-sacrifice,” and whether it gives him a “solid knowledge of his subject and the art of teaching, through close attendance from a master of experience.”

The first requisite is, that the original material, the candidate for the Order, is good. The statue, however deftly carved, will not be a success if the marble has serious defects. Therefore, such only are to be admitted into the ranks of the Society, as are capable of receiving the Jesuit ‘form,’ only those who show a capacity for imbibing its spirit and submitting [416]to its discipline.⁠[727] The Constitutions of the Society are quite explicit on this point. They say that the person having the power of admission “should not be turned by any consideration from that which he shall judge most conducive in the Lord to the service of God in the Society; to promote which he should not be too eager to grant admission.”⁠[728] The Provincial Superior is further exhorted “to watch that his subjects are not too anxious (ne nimii sint) to attract people to the Society, but by their virtues they should endeavor to lead all to Christ.”⁠[729] The teachers in particular are told “even in private conversations to inculcate piety, but without attracting any one to the Order.”⁠[730] Now what qualities does the Society require of those applying for admission? The Constitutions want men endowed with the highest gifts of nature. In order that they may be able to benefit their fellow creatures, the candidates of the Society should be endowed with the following gifts: as regards their intellect, they should possess good judgment, sound doctrine, or the talent to acquire it. As to character, they must be studious of all virtue and spiritual perfection, calm, steadfast and strenuous in what they undertake for God’s service, and burning with zeal for the salvation of souls. In externals, facility of language, so needful for the intercourse with fellow men; besides, the applicant should possess good health and strength to undergo the labors of the Institute.⁠[731]

[417]

Such is the material of the future Jesuit; no mean material indeed. How does the Society carry out the modelling of the young members? How does she—to confine ourselves to the question of training teachers—train them to become efficient instructors and educators? To understand this better, it will be good to follow a young Jesuit through the course of his training. Take a young man, a student of a college, perhaps of a university. May be, he has been educated in a Jesuit college, he has seen the Jesuits working for education, has heard them preaching and lecturing, he feels attracted by their work: he wants to become one of them. Perhaps he has never seen a Jesuit, but he has heard of them, has read of the great achievements of the famous missionaries of the Order, beginning from St. Francis Xavier down to our days; he has come across a book written by a Jesuit, he hears how much they have done in the defense of Christianity, above all how they are hated and persecuted by the enemies of the Church: the ideal inspirations of his heart grow stronger, and he inquires where he can find these men so much spoken of. It is a fact that during the Kulturkampf in Germany, the German Province of the Society almost doubled its numbers. Many students, who had never seen a Jesuit, left the gymnasium or university to join the exiles, just because of the singular hatred of which the outlawed Order was the object. They concluded that a body of men thus singled out, must possess something extraordinary, something especially praiseworthy, as they could not believe that the calumnies spread by the enemies of the Jesuits could have any foundation. The student, frequently the brightest of [418]his class, travels to the nearest place, perhaps to a foreign country, where he finds a house or a college of the Order.⁠[732] He is introduced to the Superior, to whom he expresses his desire of joining the ranks of the sons of St. Ignatius. He is strictly examined as to his studies, his character, the motives which led him to apply for admission to the Society, and above all, whether any one, especially a Jesuit, has influenced him to take this step, which latter fact would be considered an impediment to his admission. The hardships of the religious life, the long course of studies prescribed by the Society, the sacrifices to be undergone, the obedience to be rendered, all this is explained to him. But suppose these representations do not deter him, then after a careful examination conducted by several Jesuits, if the student is thought to possess sufficient talent, and a good moral disposition, he is received as a novice of the Society.

Perhaps the young candidate expected soon to be sent to the missions, or to be employed in teaching or writing, but the Society holds to the old principle that he who is to teach, is first to learn. Above all, he has to learn the most necessary science, expressed by the old Nosce teipsum: “Know thyself,” and that not in a merely speculative, but in a severely practical manner. By this intense self-knowledge, the young religious is enabled to understand the characters of others and to deal with them successfully. During the first two years, in strict seclusion from the world, [419]he learns that self-knowledge, self-control, and “self-sacrifice,” which are necessary to the future missionary, and no less so, to the future teacher. It is a religious, a spiritual training which the future educator receives first as the foundation of all other training. Education and reform must begin at home. The teacher is to instruct his pupils in the principles of true and solid morality. If he does not possess and practise these principles himself, he will be a corrupter of youth instead of a father and friend, “a blind leader of the blind, and both shall fall into the pit,” as the Divine Teacher expresses it. If without practising these principles he endeavors to teach them, he is a hypocrite; his deeds will belie his words, and the eyes of the young are sharp and their perception is keen; they will soon discover the discord between the teacher’s action and his precepts, and the former will have a more powerful influence on them, than the latter, as the Latin adage has it: Verba movent, exempla trahunt. Even the pagan rhetorician Quintilian insists on this point: Ipse (magister) nec habeat vitia, nec ferat: “The teacher should neither have nor tolerate faults.”⁠[733] The teacher is daily for hours with his pupils, speaking to them, moving before them, his every word, his every gesture, his every smile is watched by a set of keen critics. All this must imperceptibly exercise a deep influence on the youthful mind. How perfect, therefore, ought the teacher to be, how faultless, how exemplary! But this moral perfection cannot be acquired except by severe self-control, by rigorous self-discipline, the acquirement of which forms the great end of the religious noviceship. [420]It was St. Ignatius' oft-repeated maxim, not only: Nosce te ipsum, but, Vince te ipsum: “Conquer thyself.” This is the way of training men, characters, of whom there is greater need than of scholars.

In frequent meditations on the end of man, on the life of the Divine Master, the young religious beholds the true dignity of man, the true “sanctity of the individual,” which consists in his relation to God, his Creator. These truths brought home to the religious by daily reflection will inspire him with that genuine zeal, that pure love of man, which is ready to undergo any hardship, to spend time, talent, health, and life, in order to make his neighbor’s soul good and noble on earth and happy throughout eternity. To the practical study of the character, of the life, of the words and actions of the Divine Master, not only the novice, but every Jesuit, devotes an hour every day in his morning meditation. In this school he learns to deal with pupils, seeing with what patience, kindness and love Christ dealt with little ones and with His disciples whose “slowness of grasp and understanding” (Luke 24, 25) would have been too much for any teacher, except him who was so “meek and humble of heart” (Matt. 11, 29). From Christ, the poor, and the friend of the lowly, he learns to “slight no one, to care as much for the progress of the poor pupils as of the rich,” as his rule enjoins him.⁠[734] From Christ, who sacrificed the most tender relations on earth to the will and service of God, in order to be “about his father’s business” (Luke 2, 49), the future teacher must learn how to control the affections of his heart, so as not to show any partiality, any special [421]love to particular pupils. All these qualities and virtues, so necessary for the teacher, the young religious endeavors to acquire during the time of his preparation. The new school of educators may sneer at this “asceticism,” still we know that godliness, although not sufficient for everything, is nevertheless profitable for everything,⁠[735] especially so for education.

The first two years of the life of the young Jesuit are principally devoted to this religious and moral training. However, his future life work is not lost sight of even during this time. Many exercises and practices of the novitiate have a direct bearing on his scientific preparation. As a rule, the students are admitted only after they have finished their classical course, in Germany and Austria for instance after completing the gymnasium, which is a classical course of nine years; in this country, after Sophomore class, which amounts to four years academic or high school work and two years of college properly so-called. Of course, there are exceptions to this rule, not a few enter after having finished a course of philosophy or after having taken special courses at a university, in addition to their classical studies, while sometimes students are admitted who have not completed the whole college course. During the first two years, novices have frequent oratorical exercises, they receive theoretical instructions on explaining Christian doctrine, and still more frequently—in accordance with the fundamental maxim of the Society, that practice and exercise are most important means of training—they have to give catechetical instructions. This exercise is an excellent preparation for explaining [422]any subject in a simple and intelligent manner, a thing most valuable for instructors in lower classes. Their conversations throughout a great part of the day are to be carried on in Latin. Besides, there are several hours a week devoted to regular schools in Latin, Greek, and the mother tongue; thus the knowledge of languages is at least kept alive, if not perfected.

After the two years novitiate, the young Jesuits have to repeat the classical studies for one, two or three years—the time varies according to the studies made previous to admission to the Society. Special attention is paid to the precepts of aesthetics, poetics, and rhetoric, and to various practical applications of these precepts. Then follows a three years’ course of philosophy, mathematics and natural sciences, especially physics, chemistry, biology, physiology, astronomy and geology. The system pursued is entirely different from that followed at our universities, where the student listens to the lectures of the professor, takes down notes and studies them at home, and then goes up for examination at the end of the year. Not so with the Jesuits. The lectures of the professor are not the only, perhaps not even the most important part in the philosophical and scientific training. Characteristic and most essential are again the exercises, foremost among them the disputations, for which three or four times a week a full hour is set apart. In what do they consist? One of the students has to study carefully a thesis previously treated in the lectures, in order to expound and defend it against the objections which are being prepared in the meantime by two other students. On the appointed day the [423]defender takes his place at a special desk in front of the class, opposite him the two objectors. The defender states his proposition, explains its meaning, and the opinions of the adversaries, ancient and modern, then gives proofs for it, in strictly syllogistic form, all this in Latin. After a quarter of an hour, the first objector attacks the proposition, or a part of it, or an argument adduced in its proof, all this again in syllogisms. The defender repeats the objection, then answers in a few words to major, minor and conclusion, by conceding, denying, or distinguishing the various parts of the objector’s syllogism. The opponent urges his objection, by offering a new subsumptive syllogism to the defender’s solution. After a quarter of an hour the second objector does the same for fifteen minutes. During the last quarter, either the professor, or any student present, may offer objections against the defender’s proposition.

These disputations are regular intellectual tournaments, the objectors trying to show the weak points of the thesis, the defender striving to maintain his proposition. “This system of testing the soundness of the doctrine taught, continued as it is throughout the theological studies, which come at a later period of the young Jesuit’s career, provides those who pass through it with a complete defense against difficulties which otherwise are likely to puzzle the Catholic controversialist. It is a splendid means of sifting truth from falsehood. Many of those who take part in it are men of ability and well versed in the objections that can be urged against the Catholic teaching. Such men conduct their attack not as a mere matter of form, but with vigor and ingenuity.... Sometimes the [424]objector will urge his difficulties with such a semblance of conviction as even to mislead some of those present.... So far from any check being put on the liberty of the students, they are encouraged to press home every sort of objection, however searching and fundamental, however bold and profane (e. g. against the existence of God, free will, immortality of the soul, Divinity of Christ, the Catholic Church etc.), that can be raised to the Catholic doctrine. In every class are found to be men, who are not to be put off with an evasion, and a professor who was to attempt to substitute authority for reason, would very soon find out his mistake. This perfect liberty of disputation is one of the many happy results of the possession of perfect and unfailing truth.”⁠[736]

Every six or eight weeks, all the more important theses discussed during the preceding time, are defended in the monthly disputations, at which all the different classes of the institution and all the professors of the faculty are present. Sometimes more solemn disputations are held, to which frequently professors from other institutions are invited, and any one is free to offer objections which the defender has to solve. There can be no doubt that this method has many great advantages. First of all, it forces the student to study his proposition most thoroughly; for he is not aware what objections shall be made. Therefore, both defenders and objectors have to prepare most carefully, to examine closely the proposition on all sides, to know its exact meaning, to understand the arguments, and to discover its weak points. The professor, of course, is present, sees that strict syllogistic [425]form is kept, and in case the defender is unable to solve the difficulties, has to give the final decision. At the same time it forces the professor to be most careful and accurate in the opinion he holds, and especially in the arguments which he proposes, as fullest liberty is given in attacking every point, and as the students, frequently mature men and highly gifted, try their very best to show any weak point in the argumentation of the text book, or in the professor’s propositions. Professor Paulsen observes on the disputations of the medieval schoolmen, of which the disputations of the Jesuit schools are a modification: “As regards the disputations, it may be said that the Middle Ages were hardly mistaken. They were undoubtedly fitted to produce a great readiness of knowledge and a marvellous skill in grasping arguments.”⁠[737]

It has frequently been asserted that this uniform training of the Jesuits crushes out all individuality. Professor Paulsen says: “Great individualities do not appear in the history of the Order,” and Cardinal Newman writes: “What a great idea, to use Guizot’s expression, is the Society of Jesus! what a creation of genius in its organization; but so well adapted is the institution to its object that for that very reason it can afford to crush individualities, however gifted; so much so, that, in spite of the rare talents of its members, it has even become an objection to it in the mouth of its enemies, that it has not produced a thinker like Scotus or Malebranche!”⁠[738]

Does uniform training necessarily result in uniformity of character? Certainly not. If all those [426]trained had the same disposition, the same nature to be worked upon, perhaps it would. Does the same nourishment given to a number of children produce the same result, the same complexion, the same color of hair, the same seize? Why should mental food? Does the same training in a military academy produce a perfect likeness in all? The military system of the “Great Powers” gives the most uniform training in the world. Does it crush out individuality of the generals and officers in tactics and strategy? Jesuit pupils will be surprised at being told that their teachers have all the same mould of character and are destitute of individuality. But no one smiles more at the above mentioned assertion than Jesuit Superiors, whose hardest task it is to unite all the different characters in one common effort, without interfering too much with their individuality. They know too well that the crushing out of the individuality would mean the crushing of energy and of self-activity so much insisted on by St. Ignatius in his Spiritual Exercises. It was St. Ignatius who told those who have charge of the spiritual training of the members of the Order: “It is most dangerous to endeavor to force all on the same path to perfection; he who attempts this does not know how different and how manifold the gifts of the Holy Ghost are.”⁠[739]

If one studies the works of the great writers of the Society, he will be struck by the variety and difference of opinions held by professors and writers of the same period, v. g. Suarez and Vasquez.⁠[740] It is amusing to read [427]how one attacks and refutes the other, speaking of “the opinions of a certain modern author which cannot be maintained at all” etc. Cardinal Newman says in his Historical Sketches: “It is plain that the body is not over-zealous about its theological traditions, or it certainly would not suffer Suarez to controvert with Molina, Viva with Vasquez, Passaglia with Petavius, and Faure with Suarez, de Lugo and Valentia. In this intellectual freedom its members justly glory; inasmuch as they have set their affections, not on the opinions of the Schools, but on the souls of men.”⁠[741] Professor Paulsen seems to have forgotten his own statement: “Greatest possible power of the individual is preserved without derangement of the organism of the Order, spontaneous activity and perfect submission of the will, contrasts almost irreconcilable, seem to have been harmoniously united in a higher degree by the Society, than by any other body.”⁠[742] A recent English writer,⁠[743] speaking of the “crushing of individuality practised by the Jesuits,” seems to trace it to the pernicious influence of the spirit of the Latin races. The Latins “keep men in leading strings;” “liberty to Latins means license;” “true Latins cannot understand the principle of personality.” The Spaniards, in particular, are regarded with special horror. The Roman Curia is said to have adopted the system used by the Spaniards, “who could not endure discussion or publicity; centralization [428]was the ideal; routine the practice,” and so on. “The Jesuit system of blind obedience was founded to bring about the absolutism of authority;” this “makes them akin (strange though it may seem) to that Puritan strain so often found in those doing or desirous of doing great things.” This is strange indeed, but far stranger are the absurdities and contradictions into which prejudiced men are led. The Jesuits are said to be deprived of personality and individuality, and in the same breath it is sometimes asserted that everywhere they know how to adapt themselves to the most different circumstances: In England, America, Germany, Spain, France, Russia, China, Japan, Paraguay, Abyssinia. It is said the General wants a man for some secret mission. He opens his list and there he finds a man especially fitted to influence the court of St. Petersburg, or the Padisha in Constantinople; then one who knows so well how to ingratiate himself with Cromwell as to become his friend, dine at his table, play chess with him;⁠[744] then one who is fitted for guiding his Celestial Majesty in Pekin; here one to rouse the starving peasants of Ireland to enthusiasm for their ‘Romish’ faith, then one who by all sorts of devices tames the savages of Paraguay; one who disputes with the bonzes in Japan, or becomes a Brahmin in India, as the famous Robert de Nobili; there is one who is best suited to conquer the refractory Professors at the University in Louvain, and the Doctors of the Sorbonne, then another who wins the confidence of the townspeople and villagers in Switzerland, the Tyrol, and Germany—in short men for [429]every possible mission.⁠[745] Such are the opinions of the adversaries of the Society. But is not the greatest variety of characters needed for all these employments? And yet, they are supposed to be deprived of individuality! Or is that unpersonal trait which is infused into every Jesuit so universal that all other individualities are contained in it, as the scholastic philosophers express it, eminenter, in a subtle and mysterious form? Is every Jesuit a sort of Proteus, who could change himself into a lion, a serpent, a pard, a boar, a tree, a fountain? A wonderful system of training, indeed, for which the diplomats of our modern courts might envy the Jesuits. To be serious, that depriving of personality, attributed to the Jesuit system, is nothing but one of the numerous Jesuit myths.

We have left our young Jesuit in his philosophical course. But what becomes in the meantime of the study of the classical languages? It is not neglected during the course of philosophy, at least the Ratio Studiorum provides special means to foster and promote this important branch of study. The lectures in mathematics and natural sciences are given in the mother tongue, but the lectures and disputations in philosophy are all conducted in Latin, so that the young Jesuit is in the habit of speaking Latin and may speak it with ease and fluency. It is true, the Latin of these disputations and lectures is not exactly Ciceronian, still it is by no means as barbarous as the [430]opponents of this system represent it. Some of the Latin text books on philosophy are written in accurate Latin.⁠[746] It is not, however, this custom of speaking Latin which we wished to adduce as a provision of the Ratio Studiorum, to advance the study of Latin during the course of philosophy. But we find in the Ratio, among the rules for the Prefect of the higher studies, the following clause: “He shall give every student of philosophy a classical author and admonish him not to omit reading it at certain hours.”⁠[747]

[431]

In this manner six or seven years of training have been spent in the Society in addition to about the same number of years devoted to higher studies previous to the admission into the Order; thus, before the Jesuit begins his work as teacher, twelve years, on the average, have been spent in studies after the completion of the elementary or public school course. The Jesuit teacher is then employed in the academical or high school department. His training compares favorably to that of the high school teachers in this country, at least as far as the length of time is concerned. In Massachusetts (1897) one per cent of high school teachers were graduates of scientific schools, thirteen per cent of normal schools, sixty-six per cent of colleges, twenty per cent unclassified.—In the State of New York (1898) there were thirty-two per cent college graduates, thirty-nine per cent normal school graduates, nineteen per cent high school graduates, ten per cent had other training.⁠[748] Thus the average of higher studies is certainly not more than eight years, against the twelve years of the Jesuit teacher.

It may be asked how far the Jesuit’s studies are preparatory to his work as teacher? The repetition of the classics in the two years “Juniorate” previous to the study of philosophy, is not only considered as part of the general culture, but is especially viewed as a preparation for the Jesuits’ work as teachers. Quick has correctly said that the Juvenats or Juniorates were the training schools where the young Jesuit learned the method of teaching.⁠[749] That this was the aim of this course is apparent from what the General Visconti [432]said: “Immediately after their novitiate they [the young Jesuits] must have the most accomplished professors of Rhetoric [by which word is understood general philological knowledge], men, who not only are altogether eminent in this faculty, but who know how to teach and make everything smooth for the scholars; men of eminent talent and the widest experience in the art; who are not merely to form good scholars, but to train good masters.”⁠[750]

But there are other most important regulations concerning the direct training for teaching. Towards the end of the philosophical course, before going to the colleges, there should be an immediate preparation for those who in the near future are to enter on the momentous career of teaching boys. The outline of the Ratio Studiorum of 1586 demands the following course:⁠[751] “It would be most profitable for the schools, if those who are about to be preceptors were privately taken in hand by some one of great experience, and for two months or more were practised by him in the method of reading, teaching, correcting, writing, and managing a class. If teachers have not learned these things beforehand, they are forced to learn them afterwards at the expense of their scholars; and then they will acquire proficiency only when they have already lost in reputation; and perchance they will never unlearn a bad habit. Sometimes such a habit is neither very serious nor incorrigible, if taken at the beginning; but if the habit is not corrected at the outset, it comes to pass that a man, who otherwise would have been most useful, becomes well-nigh useless. There is no describing how much amiss preceptors take it, if they [433]are corrected, when they have already adopted a fixed method of teaching; and what continual disagreement ensues on that score with the Prefect of Studies. To obviate this evil, in the case of our professors, let the Prefect in the chief college, whence our professors of Humanities and Grammar are usually taken, remind the Rector and Provincial, about three months before the next scholastic year begins, that, if the Province needs new professors for the following term, they should select some one eminently versed in the art of managing classes, whether he be at the time actually a professor or a student of theology or philosophy; and to him the future masters are to go daily for an hour,⁠[752] to be prepared by him for their new ministry, giving prelections in turn, writing, dictating, correcting, and discharging the other duties of a good teacher.”⁠[753] Professor Ziegler, commenting on this regulation, says: “To the Jesuits must be given the credit of first having done something for the pedagogical preparation of the future teachers in higher schools; and of having paved the way for the Probe- und Seminarjahr of our days.”⁠[754]

Another regulation laid down in the Ratio of 1599, as a duty of the Provincial,⁠[755] is of the greatest importance: “In order to preserve the knowledge of classical literature, and to keep up a Seminary of teachers, he shall try to have in his Province at least two or [434]three men distinguished in these branches. This he shall accomplish, if, from time to time, he takes care that some of them who have a special talent and inclination for these studies, and are sufficiently trained in other branches, devote themselves exclusively to this vocation, so that, through their efforts and industry, a stock of good teachers is formed.”

In order to give the young teachers, who were to be trained in this Seminary, a reliable guide, the general assembly of the Society, in 1696–97, passed a decree that, “besides the rules whereby the masters of literature are directed in the manner of teaching, they should be provided with an Instruction and proper Method of Learning, and so be guided in their private studies even while they are teaching.”⁠[756] Father Joseph de Jouvancy (Latinized Juvencius), one of the greatest authorities on education of his age, was ordered to revise, and adapt to the requirements of this decree, a work which he had published five years previously. This book, after a careful examination by a special commission, appeared in 1703, as the authorized handbook for the teachers of the Society, under the title: Magistris scholarum inferiorum Societatis Jesu de ratione discendi et docendi.⁠[757] The General Visconti in 1752 wished the little book to be in the hands of all Jesuit [435]teachers.⁠[758] The little work has been styled a pedagogical gem, and it was highly praised by Rollin and Voltaire.⁠[759] Dr. Ernst von Sallwürk said of it a few years ago that its importance reaches far beyond the Jesuit schools. “We may consider it a reliable source for information of what Jesuit pedagogy at his time aimed at and achieved. Besides, this book is one of the most prominent works on college pedagogy (Gymnasial-Pädagogik).”⁠[760] In the following chapters we shall frequently refer to this excellent work of Father Jouvancy.

The account we have given so far of the training of the Jesuit teacher furnishes an answer to the charge, which is brought forward now and then, that the Jesuit teachers were too young. No matter how things stood in the Old Society, at present, according to the above data, the average age of the Jesuit teacher when he begins teaching cannot be less than twenty-four years. Besides, every college, according to the Ratio Studiorum, ought to possess a number of magistri perpetui, permanent teachers, i. e. of men who spend their whole lives in teaching. This is clearly stated in the rules of the Provincial: “He shall procure as many as possible permanent teachers of grammar and rhetoric. This he shall effect if, at the end of the casuistic or theological studies, some men who are thought to fulfil the duties of the Society better in this ministry than in any other, are resolutely (strenue) destined for it, and admonished to devote themselves wholly to so salutary a work, to the greater glory of [436]God.”⁠[761] Father Sacchini devotes the fourth part of his Protrepticon to encouraging the members of the Society first, to offer themselves to the arduous but noble work of education: “The education of youth for many reasons deserves to be preferred by a zealous Jesuit to all the other ministries of the Order.” He quotes the words of Pope Paul III., in the Bull of the confirmation of the Society: “They [the members of the Society] shall have expressly recommended to them the instruction of boys and ignorant people.... For it is most necessary that the General and his council diligently watch over the management of this business; seeing that the edifice of faith cannot be raised in our neighbors without a foundation, and there may be danger among ourselves lest, as each is more learned, he may endeavor to evade this duty [of instructing the young], as at first sight perhaps less engaging: whilst in fact none is more productive, either of edification to our neighbors or of the practice of the duties of charity and humility to ourselves.”⁠[762] Father Sacchini says that this volunteering and application for the work of education, far from being in any way opposed to obedience, on the contrary, is the most beautiful flower and [437]perfection of that virtue, which St. Ignatius recommended when saying, one should not wait for the Superior’s command, but should anticipate his very suggestions and silent wishes.

In the second place Father Sacchini exhorts the teacher to devote generously his whole life to this great work. Some writers on the history of education have stated that the Jesuits, after having been admitted to Priest’s Orders, did not teach the grammar classes, but gave only the higher instruction.⁠[763] Compayré goes so far as to assert that “in their establishments for secondary instruction they entrust the lower classes to teachers who do not belong to their Order, and reserve to themselves the direction of the higher classes.”⁠[764] This is utterly false. Lay teachers are only employed when the insufficiency in the number of Jesuits makes it necessary; or for certain branches, as commercial branches, or in professional courses, as in the faculties for Law and Medicine, preparatory schools for Army and Navy, in short, wherever lay experts are needed. The history of Jesuit schools, old and new, refutes the statement of Compayré and other writers. Many priests have taught the lower classes for many years, some for their whole lives. Besides, if priests did not teach these classes, the regulations of the Ratio about “permanent teachers,” the earnest appeals of Sacchini and other Jesuit writers, would be altogether meaningless.

Father Sacchini, in order to encourage the Jesuits to devote their whole lives to this noble work, enumerates the various emoluments accruing from this perseverance to the teacher himself, as it gives him [438]facility, interest, and experience in his work. He further points out the advantages of this stability for the pupils and for the Society. He cites in this connection the words of Ecclesiasticus⁠[765]: “Be steadfast in the covenant, and be conversant therein, and grow old in thy work. Trust in God and stay in thy place.” The Greek text has, instead of “place”, πόνος, i. e. “hard work, toil, drudgery,” a word admirably suited to express the toilsome labor of education. Therefore: “stay in thy place, bear patiently the toil and drudgery necessarily connected with teaching,” is the advice given to the teacher of the Society. In fact, numerous Jesuits have heeded this advice, and have spent thirty, forty, fifty, and more years in college work. Not to speak of times long gone by, or of foreign countries, we mention the following fact. In 1888, died at Spring Hill College, near Mobile, Alabama, Father Yenni, author of a Latin and a Greek grammar, who for fifty years had been teaching boys, and, at his special request, always in the lowest classes.

The Ratio speaks more explicitly of the training of the teachers for the literary curriculum; it is understood that those who have to teach mathematics, sciences, etc., receive a special training in their respective branches. Other documents of the Society state this principle in the clearest terms. In the memorandum of Father Clavius, written more than three hundred years ago, it is said: “In order to have always in the Society able teachers of these sciences, some who are especially fitted for this task should be selected and trained, in a private course, in the various [439]mathematical branches.”⁠[766] In another document we read: “The best way, perhaps, is that those who are chosen for this office [teaching mathematics] should, after the course of philosophy, study for a whole year the branches which they will have to teach.”⁠[767] This special course, in addition to the general training in mathematics received in the course of philosophy, was certainly a sufficient preparation for the amount of mathematics which was taught in former centuries.

It is evident, then, that both the general and special training of the Jesuit teacher were well attended to before he was sent out to teach.

Several weeks before the beginning of a new scholastic year, the young Jesuit arrives at the college which is to be the first field of his educational labors. After some time, during which the Rector of the college and the Prefect of Studies have formed acquaintance with the new-comer, a certain class is assigned to him for the next year. It is according to the spirit, not only of the Ratio Studiorum, but of the whole Institute of the Society, that great care be taken that the positions in colleges, as well as elsewhere, are assigned according to the talent, the knowledge and the practical abilities of the individuals. To quote only a few regulations of the Institute, the Constitutions declare: “Every one should be trained according to his age, talent, and inclinations,” of course always considering “where the common good can be advanced best.”⁠[768] The Provincial is told “to take care that those who have a special inclination for a certain [440]branch of study, in which they can distinguish themselves, spend more time in this branch,”⁠[769]—certainly for no other reason than that they should use this knowledge for teaching, or if circumstances require, writing on this special subject. Specialization is, accordingly, no new invention of modern times, but was recognized as important centuries ago, but a specialization which presupposes the solid foundation of general culture. Unless this be done, the educational structure becomes “top-heavy”; “time, money, and labor are put on the superstructure at the expense of the foundation,” as an American writer complains of modern educational systems.⁠[770] The specialties to be provided for by the selection and fostering of special talents, are, in the terms of the second last general assembly of the Order (in 1883), “ancient languages, philosophy, ethnology, history, higher mathematics, and all the natural sciences.”⁠[771] The Institute emphasizes the necessity of selecting the teachers according to their abilities: “In universities and colleges learned and able professors are to be appointed,”⁠[772] and the Provincial Superior is exhorted “to consider in due time what teachers are to be taken for the single branches, and look out for those that seem best fitted, who are learned, studious, and assiduous (docti, diligentes, assidui), and intent upon the progress of the pupils.”⁠[773] Now, there is scarcely any studiousness or [441]assiduity possible, unless a man takes a natural interest in the subject which he has to study or teach. True, the Jesuit is told by his Institute to do everything from a supernatural motive; still in the special field of studies “great success is hardly possible if one possesses no natural liking for such work,” as a distinguished living Jesuit used to tell the younger members of the Order.

Different documents of the Society state the same principle most emphatically. We have heard that those men were to be appointed as teachers of mathematics, who were especially fitted for this task, and who felt an inclination and a liking for this branch.⁠[774] A second document says: “Those should be chosen who, all other things being equal, are superior to all others in talent, diligence, inclination for these subjects, and in the method of teaching.... For it happens sometimes that some, proficient enough in other branches, are not mathematicians, be it for want of study or of natural talent for this branch.”⁠[775] The same principle was, of course, applied to other subjects. Father Nadal had laid it down as a general rule of the Prefect of Studies, to see that all the younger members of the Society receive a solid general training, and that special talents should be diligently cultivated. “He must take pains to discover what talent our young men have, and endeavor to advance them accordingly. If one is fitted for the study of rhetoric, see that he is [442]given a longer and more accurate training in the humanistic studies and oratory. The same care must be taken if one is thought to have a talent for poetics, for Greek, for philosophy, theology, Sacred Scripture, the Fathers of the Church, the Councils, and Canon Law. On the other hand, if one seems not to be fitted for a certain branch of study, he should not be detained therein longer than is necessary for acquiring an ordinary knowledge.”⁠[776]

Thus it is clear that the Constitutions of the Society and the documents directly concerning the studies, from the very beginning, insisted on the necessity of assigning each teacher’s work according to his natural abilities. The General of the Society, Father Visconti, inculcated this principle later on, saying that “special care should be taken to assign the classes to the teachers according to their talent, knowledge and practical skill.”⁠[777] This must be emphasized much more in our days. For in the sixteenth century, the subjects taught in colleges were fewer, and it was not so difficult to appoint teachers. But in our times, other branches must be taught. This cannot be done effectively by the same man who teaches languages and literature. There are exceedingly few men who can excel in many branches, or can be good teachers in several of them.

Here, however, there is another danger which must [443]be avoided: that of splitting up too much the work of teaching in the same class. This is most injurious to education properly so-called, especially in the lower and middle classes. One teacher should have a prominent position in the class; he should be the teacher, and, in the first place, the educator of his pupils. For this reason he should teach as many subjects as possible in his class—provided he masters them—, all those branches which are more closely connected, as Latin, Greek, also English, in short, languages and literature. With Latin and Greek it is natural to combine also Roman and Greek history. Medieval and modern history may be taught by a special teacher. Mathematics and natural sciences go well together and can easily be taught by the same teacher. In a word, the Society wishes to have class teachers preferably to branch teachers. As is well known, the class system is, to a certain extent, prevalent in Germany. For some time the branch system had been favored, but experience proved that the old class system was unquestionably better. So the “New School Order” for Prussia, 1901, strongly recommends the strengthening of the influence of the class teacher as distinct from the branch teacher, in order to secure, above all, better education. “The splitting up of the teaching in the lower and middle classes among too many teachers, as well as frequent changes of teachers, are considered an obstacle to any enduring educational influence. To put a stop, as far as possible, to these evils, the provincial school authorities are strictly bound to see to it that a professor proposed as a class teacher be suitable for the position, and that he teach in his class as many subjects as possible, so far as his scholastic [444]attainments and practical experience allow it.”⁠[778] The advantages of this system for education need not be demonstrated. It is the only system which gives the teacher a thorough knowledge of the pupil and influence on the formation of his character.⁠[779]

There is another practice of Jesuit colleges which had for its end the strengthening of the educational influence of the teacher. According to the Ratio Studiorum, it was customary that the teacher should not always remain in the same grade, except the professors of the two highest literary classes, of Humanities and Rhetoric, where more erudition is required. But the young teacher should begin with the lowest class, then year after year advance with the better part of his pupils to the next higher grade, at least for three or four years. Thus the students have not to pass so often from one master, and consequently from one kind of management, to the other; master and pupil understand each other, and if the teacher is a good religious and a fairly efficient teacher, he will have won the esteem, the affection, and the confidence of the pupils, all which gives him inestimable advantages for the real and thorough education of his charges. On the other hand, frequent changes interfere considerably with the training of the pupils. As early as 1583, Father Oliver Manare, visiting the colleges of the German provinces by the General’s authority, laid it down as a directive that “frequent changes were burdensome to the students, because they were forced to [445]accommodate themselves often to new teachers and prefects.”⁠[780]

If, for want of a sufficient number of men, some of the regulations laid down for the training of the teacher, were, perhaps, not everywhere and always complied with, the Ratio Studiorum is not to be censured on that account, nor the Society as such, as by wise legislation she endeavored to obviate any such shortcomings.⁠[781] Moreover, the uniformity of the previous training of the Jesuit teachers, as well as the uniform system of teaching in the colleges of the same province, has the effect that, although teachers are changed, there is no change in the method of teaching. Besides, is not every institution, secular or ecclesiastical, however well organized, open to such or similar temporary defects? Exceptional shortcomings must naturally be expected in any system, as there is nothing on earth altogether perfect and ideal. Deficiencies in individual Jesuit teachers, or in single colleges, do not prove anything against the system, no more than the inefficient administration of one Governor or President proves the worthlessness of the constitution of a State or the Republic. Our contention is only that excellent teachers are trained if the regulations of the Jesuit system are followed.

The young teacher has received his appointment, let us say for one of the high school classes, to teach Latin and Greek. He knows his grammar well, he [446]has in the course of years read many classical authors. Is anything still wanting? Indeed very much: an intimate acquaintance with the authors, facility in handling their languages, skill in explaining the grammar and the authors. All this he has to acquire by a system of continued self-training, under the direction of the Rector or Prefect of Studies. Above all he must study the classic authors themselves. Second-hand knowledge will not suffice for the teacher. Reading over the regulations of the Society in former centuries concerning the preparation of the teachers,⁠[782] one must be surprised to see what an amount of reading was required of the young teacher, in Latin, Greek, and history. Thus the teacher of the second lowest Grammar class (Media Grammatica) had to study, besides the authors he explained in class, all the philosophical writings of Cicero (the epistles he had read the year before), and some of the orations of the same author; the poets Claudian, Catullus, Tibullus, Propertius, Martial, the first ten books of Livy, Justin, Valerius Maximus, Velleius Paterculus, and the whole of Caesar. In Greek, Aelian, Aesop, and Xenophon’s Cyropaedia. Various books on style, poetry, and rhetoric.⁠[783] The teacher of the third class was to study all the orations of Cicero with a commentary; Horace, Seneca, and other poets; some more books of Livy, Curtius, Sallust; the Philippics of Demosthenes.—Every minute was to be utilized in order to master these authors. Catalogues of books on philology and antiquities were printed from which the young teacher might find assistance in studying and explaining the [447]authors.⁠[784] The young teacher has to look not so much for pedagogical theories, as for practical knowledge. He is to read carefully the authors, closely observe peculiarities of their style, accurately translate and intelligently expound their meaning. It is exactly the system, according to which Professor Hermann of Leipsic trained his philologians. This practical method of self-activity and self-training we find explained in the first part of Jouvancy’s commentary on the Ratio Studiorum, in The Method of Learning.

As the object of this training is to form practical teachers, not a word is said about higher criticism and the like; but Father Jouvancy urges the teacher to acquire in the first place a thorough mastery of three languages: Greek, Latin, and the vernacular. The means of gaining this mastery are plentiful reading of the best authors, and practising compositions of various kinds: letters, orations, essays.

The second part of the learning proper to the master of literature consists, according to Jouvancy, in the thorough knowledge of certain sciences. “The erudition of a master is not confined to mere command of languages; it must rise higher to the understanding of some sciences which it is usual to impart to youth in the classical schools. Such are rhetoric, poetry, history, chronology, geography, philology.”⁠[785] [448]As regards history, it is superfluous to speak of its usefulness for a higher education. History is, indeed, a magistra vitae, a teacher and mirror of life, a school of practical wisdom. Of particular importance for the teacher is the thorough knowledge of the history of Greece and Rome. A scholarly appreciation of the classics is impossible without an intimate acquaintance with the history: political, social, religious, and literary, of these nations.

Here we must say a few words on the teacher’s attitude towards ancient history. The religious teacher’s viewpoint of history is radically different from that of the agnostic. To the religious teacher historical events are not merely the products of natural agencies. He sees rather in history, to use the words of the Jesuit Kropf, “the wonderful manifestation of God’s power and a revelation of the wisdom of a [449]Divine Providence.”⁠[786] History, in this sense, is a record of the development of mankind under the providential guidance of God; or, more precisely, a record of the systematic training and improvement of the human race by divinely appointed means as a preparation for the birth of Christ, that God might, through the coming of His Son, secure from man a spontaneous homage, a worship worthy of Himself. The coming of Christ, in this view, gives a definite character to history, and the periods both before and after that event—the greatest in history—constitute its two grand divisions,⁠[787] the one the preparation for the coming of Christ, the other the spread and struggle of Christ’s kingdom, to the final triumph on the day of Judgment. Christ, therefore, is the central figure of all history, “the stone which was rejected by the builders, which is become the head of the corner.”⁠[788]

From this standpoint, then, the Jesuit masters will study and teach the history of Greece and Rome. Of this viewpoint he will not lose sight when reading and explaining the classic authors. It need not be feared that this view will prevent the teacher from doing full justice to these two great nations. On the contrary. In the Greeks he will acknowledge those brilliant gifts of nature which made them the foremost promoters of human art, human knowledge, and human culture. In the history of Rome he will admire that wonderful talent for ruling the world, and [450]that system of jurisprudence which exercised so potent an influence on the formation of later codes of laws. However, the Christian view of history will prevent the teacher from sharing that one-sided admiration of antiquity which was so disastrous among the humanists during the Renaissance, and which is found sometimes in the ranks of professional philologists. The Greeks were indeed a race endowed with exceptional gifts of body and mind. However, we need not and cannot shut our eyes to their many moral defects, especially to that frightful kind of immorality which has received its name from the Greeks, and which manifests itself even in the finest pieces of their literature.

Nor is the Christian teacher’s attitude towards imperial Rome very different. At the time when Christ appeared on earth, Rome under Augustus had risen to the zenith of her glory, and the poets sang that the golden age had returned on earth. But under a glittering surface lay hidden the misery of slavery, universal corruption, scepticism and despair. In the midst of this darkness appeared the “Light to the revelation of the Gentiles.”⁠[789] Yet the darkness did not surrender without a fierce struggle, the greatest which the world has ever seen. The history of this struggle between Christ and Caesar, between Christianity and paganism, between faith and infidelity, is the keynote of the first three centuries, nay more, of the nineteen hundred years which have since elapsed.

The Christian historian, although objecting to Gibbon’s explanation of the spread of Christianity from merely natural causes,⁠[790] admits that, apart from [451]the intrinsic worth and positive character of Christianity as a divinely revealed religion, external circumstances also contributed to the rapid propagation of the religion of Christ. He discovers that the coming of the Desired of Nations had been prepared directly, through “the Law and the Prophets,” among the chosen people of Israel, indirectly also among the Gentiles. This indirect preparation was first a negative one; the ancient world had to realize the limitation of the natural powers; it had to experience that all progress in philosophy, art and politics could neither quiet the mind nor satisfy the heart, and was utterly unable to save either the individual or the family, the state or society.⁠[791] But there was also a more positive preparation of the Gentile world. The Greek methods of philosophy, especially those of Plato and Aristotle, in spite of their many shortcomings, became efficient means with which the early champions of the Church successfully combated the errors and absurdities of paganism and logically defended the doctrines of Revelation. Thus Plato, in the words of Clement of Alexandria, was a παιδαγωγὸς εἰς Χριστόν, a teacher who prepared the way for Christ. Origen, Eusebius and St. Augustine see a special providence of God in the conquest of the world by the Roman Empire. It is this tracing of God’s working in history which Father Kropf suggested to the teacher, and it is in this light that he has to study the history and literature of Greece and Rome.

With ancient history and the classics, the teacher has to connect the study of antiquities. Those who have heard it said again and again that the Jesuit [452]system aims at nothing but “mere formalism, at cleverness in speaking and disputing,” will naturally ask in surprise, whether the Jesuits had any place for these subjects in their course of instruction. However, a mere glance at the Ratio, the commentary of Jouvancy and other sources will convince any one that the teaching of antiquities is even prescribed in the colleges of the Society. Under the name of eruditio, i. e. general erudition or general learning, the study of antiquities forms an essential part of the explanation of the authors. The professor of Rhetoric (Sophomore) is told that “one of the three principal points of this grade consists in general erudition. This is to be drawn from the history of the nations and their culture, from the best authors and from every field of learning; but it is to be imparted sparingly and according to the capacity of the pupils.” The fifteenth rule of the professor says that “for the advancement of erudition, sometimes, instead of reading the historical author, other subjects might be treated, e. g. hieroglyphics, and symbolic signs, epitaphs,⁠[792] the Roman or Athenian Senate, the military systems of the Romans and Greeks, the costumes, gardens, banquets, triumphs, sibyls, etc., in short—as the Revised Ratio has it—archaeology. The first rule of the professor of Humanities mentions the same.” But that it was intended for all classes, though naturally not to the same extent, is evident from Jouvancy’s treatise “On the Explanation of Authors,” which we shall give in substance in the next chapter. There it will also be explained why antiquities, [453]according to the Ratio, should be imparted “sparingly.”

If antiquities are to be taught in Jesuit colleges, the teacher must carefully study them. This is done partly in the two years of philological studies which follow the novitiate. One of the great teachers of the first century of the Society, Father Bonifacio, who for more than forty years labored in the Spanish colleges, writes: “In the philological seminaries, our young men, besides studying Latin, Greek and Hebrew, should acquire an intimate knowledge of history and classical antiquities.”⁠[793] However, this archaeological learning has to be acquired chiefly throughout the course of teaching. It will always form a part of the preparation of the authors which are, at the time, read in class. Father Jouvancy advises the young teacher to devote especially the holidays to this study, which he calls a useful and, at the same time, pleasant change.⁠[794]

In the Old Society there existed special lists or catalogues of various works, from which historical and antiquarian information could best be obtained. Very interesting in this regard is the Catalogue of the province of Upper Germany of the year 1604.⁠[795] In an introductory remark it is stated that the list of philological helps is not made for the old and experienced professors, but for the young masters, for the beginners; and a great number of works is given that every [454]one might suit his own taste and select those authors whom he likes best. The first part of the catalogue contains the best commentaries on the classical authors. The second enumerates works on Roman Law, which will help towards a better understanding of the writings of Cicero. The third gives the titles of about sixty works on antiquities: Roman and Greek games, triumphs, chronology, religion and sacrifices, mythology, banquets, costumes, the army and navy, numismatics, measures and weights, architecture, the triumphal arches, the circus, the amphitheatre, topography, geography, etc.⁠[796] Several works on these subjects were written by Jesuits. It will appear, then, that although antiquities were to be taught but sparingly, the information of the teacher on these subjects was supposed to be thorough. Jouvancy, at the end of his Method of Learning, reminds the young master that “he must beware of superficiality; he must not be satisfied with a smattering but should endeavor to master thoroughly, to exhaust, if possible, that branch to which, by his natural gifts and God’s will, he is destined to apply himself. Above all he must be constant in his studies and devote all his time to earnest self-training. Should he trifle away his time, he would seriously fail in [455]his religious obligations; for God’s glory and the honor of the Society demand of him as much progress in learning as he can possibly attain, and one day God will ask of him a rigorous account of his time and his work.”

This is the training which the Society gives its young teachers. It is a solid and practical training, one, we think, fitted for forming competent teachers.

It was said before that the intellectual scope of the Jesuit system is the general training of the mind; the means for obtaining this end are the various exercises. In this chapter we shall treat the exercises of the literary course, and this for several reasons. First, because the study of languages and literature should form the backbone of, at least, the secondary schools and of part of the college course. Secondly, because the Ratio Studiorum treats the exercises in languages and literature very minutely, whereas it makes only a few suggestions concerning the exercises in mathematics and natural sciences. Thirdly, because it is especially in the literary studies that there exists a danger to neglect the exercises, as is, in fact, the case in some modern systems. No one will doubt for a moment that for the successful teaching of mathematics continual exercises are absolutely necessary. In natural sciences, particularly in physics and chemistry, the equivalent of the exercises are the experiments and especially the laboratory work.⁠[797] On teaching physics and chemistry the Ratio has one very important remark, viz., the professor should not treat [457]them merely theoretically and mathematically, so that no time is left for the experiments; nor should he, on the other hand, spend so much time on the experiments that the teaching seems to be purely experimental; but sufficient time should be devoted to the principles, systems, theories, and hypotheses.⁠[798] The object of all these exercises, be they scientific or literary, must be clear from what has been said in previous chapters, especially in the chapter on the Intellectual Scope. There we compared the different branches of study to the tools of the artisan or the dumb bells of one who takes a course of physical training; the exercises are the practical handling of these instruments, not by the teacher, but by the pupil. The teacher has to show how they are to be handled, but then the pupil has to lay hold of the intellectual tools and handle them himself. Thus, and thus only, not by merely listening to the lectures of a teacher, will the youthful mind be trained and acquire that readiness and nimbleness which is the object of true education. The literary exercises laid down in the Ratio Studiorum shall be treated under four headings: the “prelection”, memory lessons, compositions, and contests.⁠[799]

§ 1. The Prelection or Explanation of the Authors.

The typical form of Jesuit instruction is called praelectio. This word is largely the equivalent of “lecturing” in the higher faculties;⁠[800] of “explanation” [458]in the lower. In either case, however, it is something specific.⁠[801] For this reason the word may be used in an English dress, as “prelection”. We are here not concerned with the lecture in the higher faculties, but with the prelection or explanation in the literary or classical course. This prelection is two-fold: one is upon the authors, the other upon the precepts of rhetoric, poetry, and style in the higher classes, of grammar, prosody, etc., in the lower classes. The Ratio gives some useful hints as to teaching the principles of rhetoric in connection with the reading of the authors. Taking up a passage, let us say of Cicero, the professor will, in the first place, make clear the sense of the text; secondly, analyze the artistic structure; thirdly, explain the force and meaning of the rhetorical precept contained in the passage; fourthly, adduce other examples which are similar in thought or expression, especially famous and striking ones; cite other orators or poets, whether in the classics or the vernacular, in which the same principles are employed; lastly, weigh the words singly, comment upon the propriety of their use, their rhythm, variety, beauty. The comparison of Latin and Greek authors with those of the vernacular, that treat of similar subjects, was especially recommended by the Jesuits in Germany, in 1830.⁠[802]

The method of explaining authors is sketched admirably in the 27th of the common rules. The first thing the professor is told to do is to read the whole passage through, unless it be too long. There is a very good reason for this. It makes an impression on the [459]ear of the pupils, and accustoms them to the rhythm of the language. Again, the reading is calculated, better than the rules of prosody, to impress on them the correct quantity of Latin syllables. Remember that the boys are understood to be employing Latin words a year, two years, before they learn the prosody; they are surely not supposed to be pronouncing incorrectly all that time. How, then, do they acquire accuracy in this important detail? Simply by imitating their professor. He reads every lesson for them before explaining; they read every lesson before translating, when they repeat next day. The rules of prosody afterwards only complete the work. Jouvancy observes that the teacher should accustom the pupils from the very beginning to distinct and articulate reading⁠[803]; the same holds good of the recitations. From the first lesson in Latin and Greek the teachers should insist on the correct quantity, particularly of the final syllables (os, es, is, etc.). If in the lowest classes the students acquire a faulty pronunciation, they will never get rid of it in later years. Some modern teachers go to an extreme in insisting too much on quantity and other points. This is affectation. Years ago many colleges used the English pronunciation of Latin: pueri = pyueray, etc.; others follow more or less the (European) continental system; of late the high schools and most colleges have adopted the ancient or Roman pronunciation: Cicero = Kikero, etc. This is not the place to enter on a discussion [460]about the relative value of the different systems. The opinions of leading educators differ considerably.⁠[804]

The reading of the text is not merely intended for correctness of pronunciation; the passage should be so read that the sense may fully appear, and that the sentiment may be rendered expressively. Inflection, tone, quality of voice, all the elements of elocution applicable to reading should be carefully attended to, and represented faithfully. A distinguished Jesuit professor even went so far as to employ gesture in this part of his prelection. What is easier in an oration than to put that spirit into the reading which shows the pupils that they are not examining a dead series of words, but a living organism with life and feeling in it, that they are studying the actual expression of real human feelings? One would not be too venturesome in asserting that the reading of the passage well done is the very best introduction to the matter studied. Of course, the repetition of this excellent reading should be exacted immediately, as often as possible; the next day at all events. It will prove the easiest and surest means of teaching elocution. The Rule [461]does not say legat, nor recitet, but pronunciet; legat or recitet would be satisfied by any reading, monotonous or not; pronunciet necessarily implies delivery, the attempt at elocutionary finish.

The delivery of the passage well done—and, when possible, exacted immediately,—the professor proceeds to sketch the argumentum, or gist of the passage. This he does briefly. Father Jouvancy, in his Odes of Horace, gives us examples of argumenta which are all that could be desired; other instances, found in the Ratio Docendi, will be given below. Of course, the professor gives the argument mostly from his notes, and he usually, or often, dictates it,—a reason for his writing it out at home. It should be brief, pithy, striking, and clear, and given in Latin in the higher classes, in the vernacular in the lower classes.

Then, when the passage is connected with the preceding, the professor has to set forth the nature of the connection; this refers especially to points of history, and, in general, to such references as come under the head of eruditio. It will seldom be necessary when, as often occurs in the lower grades, the passage for prelection is the whole of a short story. In Freshman class and Sophomore, on the contrary, it may require some time to explain this connection.

The professor next passes on to consider each sentence by itself. He explains each one, shows the grammatical or rhetorical connection or dependence of its successive members and phrases, and, in general, clears up any obscurities or difficulties which the words contain. If the explanation is in the vernacular,⁠[805] he [462]is careful to keep at first, as far as possible, the order of the Latin words, to accustom the ear to the numerus of that language. If this cannot be done, then he first translates nearly word for word, almost regardless of vernacular excellence, then afterwards returns and gives a version, with all attention to the elegancies of diction. This last translation must be a model of the vernacular, the very best the professor can do. Jouvancy says that all translations and dictations in the vernacular must be in strict accord with the most exact rules of the language, and free from any defect.⁠[806] The Ratio of 1832, in the eighteenth rule for the teachers, insists on the same.

By all odds the better way for the teacher, as Jouvancy has said, is to elaborate his version for himself. It is a risky thing to rely on printed translations; many of them, especially the “Handy Library Translations” and the like, are frequently done in awkward and slovenly English. Further, as now-a-days the pupils have easy access to libraries, they will soon detect what sort of translation the teacher uses. In consequence the professor will lose a great part of his authority, the first element of which is esteem for the teacher’s learning. Besides, as soon as the students have discovered the source of the teacher’s translation, the careless and lazy ones will no longer pay any attention in class. Of course, the most conscientious and painstaking teacher has sometimes to have recourse to translations. But he should procure the most scholarly translations, and use them with discretion.

There can be no objection to the teacher’s reading [463]the translation from his paper; by which means he will be ensured against slips and sins against idiom, such as otherwise can hardly be avoided. If he chooses, after his own version, he may read a printed translation, which is especially useful in the case of such works as Butcher and Lang’s Homer.

Notes and remarks are now to be given. Many professors prefer the alternative suggested in the Rule, of putting these in here and there, where they belong, in the course of the explanation. This plan, and that of presenting all the remarks together at the end, have both their own advantages. The former is more in keeping with unity, the latter affords a good opportunity of going over the passage again, and gives the pupils an occasion to make a little review of what has been done so far. Repetition is always good: it impresses and enforces. It is for this reason that the second rule of the several classes orders that immediately after the prelection a short repetition be “exacted” of the students. While the matter is still fresh, this can be done more easily and will have a more lasting effect.

The notes given should be made brief and striking and should be carefully worded. Littera scripta manet. The Grammar classes are not to write unless bidden. This evidently supposes that the higher classes may write when they choose. They are considered to have acquired discretion enough to guide them in their choice of what to note down from the professor’s explanation. The lower grades are not to do this for themselves, because, as Father Hughes⁠[807] says, “it happens now and then that, with much labor, waste [464]of time and to no good purpose whatever, the boys take down and preserve with diligence a set of notes which have not been thought out very judiciously nor been arranged very carefully, notes simply trivial, common, badly patched together, sometimes worse than worthless, and these notes they commit to paper in wretched handwriting, full of mistakes and errors. Therefore let the dictation be only of a few points and those extremely select.”

The Trial Ratio of 1586 bids the professor and the Prefect look over the students’ note books occasionally.⁠[808] This examination ensures the notes being written neatly and in order. It must not be forgotten that one great advantage of notes in general is the habit of system which they tend to foster; hence they must be diligently seen to. The teacher leads the way, as in every other detail of class work, by being orderly himself; he exacts the same care of his pupils.

The Ratio strongly recommends careful preparation on the part of the professor. He is not to give the prelection ex tempore, but after careful thought and even writing. What a splendid thing it would be if every teacher could so thoroughly make himself ready as to go to class with nothing but the text of the author and give his prelection, reading, argument, explanation, version, notes, dictation and all without so much as looking on his book before the boys! This would be the perfection of preparation and has been attained in the Society, old and new, but would possibly require too much time of professors of but a few years’ teaching. At any rate, the one who wishes to [465]be successful in his work and do it faithfully, will not only have taken the pains to have studied carefully beforehand—the long vacation is the best time to do this—the book or oration which he is to explain, but will never come to class without having prepared, at the very least, some notes put in order as he designs to give them to the pupils.

These notes may be more or less in extenso: if the professor has sufficient fluency in expressing himself, they can be simple jottings, mere hints of what he is to say, and in what place. He will also have carefully fixed such points as he means to dictate. It will seldom be necessary for one to write out the entire prelection word for word. Such a practice would be good at times, no doubt, by way of exercising oneself in neatness and accuracy, and in style; but ordinarily mere notes will suffice. What will they consist of? That will depend largely on the passage under discussion. Now they will include a bit of history, the narration of which is called for by the passage for prelection; now geography; at other times archaeology; oftener grammatical or rhetorical precepts will enter, and similar passages from other authors, ancient and modern, may be quoted. When possible, these notes should embrace such moral hints as may be brought in naturally. The teacher will depend to a great extent on such occasional hints for his moral influence on his pupils.

A prelection written one year, even if the same author is read, will rarely do another if not modified. The circumstances of the class will have changed. A prelection has this in common with an oration, that it must suit the present audience. Contemporary events, [466]to which reference is at times in order, will differ. These and other circumstances will naturally make the prelection matter different, even on the same passage. Each lesson should, therefore, be prepared for each class especially. This is the chief work which a teacher has to attend to during his free hours each day. It is rarely good to make this preparation a week ahead of time; unless the professor reviews and adapts his notes shortly before delivering them. It is evident that to prepare a prelection in this manner is a serious thing, a work by no means trifling; but easy or not, it must be gone through. It supposes that the professor spends his hours free from class in honest preparation.

Repetition has been called the mater studiorum, and in truth, few points are of more vital importance. The Ratio insists on repetition throughout the course, but particularly in the lowest classes. Without constant, steady, persistent drilling on the same matter in the beginning of the student’s career, no solid foundation for the future literary edifice can be hoped for. Perhaps it is owing to inadvertence to this necessity that in some instances the fruit does not correspond to the labor of the professor. It has been well said that young teachers think mainly of stimulating their pupils’ minds, and so neglect the repetition needed for accuracy.⁠[809]

The 25th rule enjoins explicitly two distinct repetitions, one of yesterday’s lesson, the other of the lesson just explained. A short repetition should immediately follow the prelection. This is of great importance; it shows the professor whether his meaning [467]has been well grasped by the pupils, and, moreover, brings home to their yet untrained minds the salient points of the previous explanation. This particular repetition should not be omitted in the lower classes. It does not require much time, ordinarily a very few minutes will suffice. The chief result to be gained is that the pupils should really understated what has just been said. In this it differs from the repetition of the lesson which was explained on the preceding day; for the principal end of this exercise is so to fix the matter in the boys’ minds that it may really become their own. The more advanced students may be called to give the short repetition at the end of the prelection, whereas the duller, or perhaps the more indolent ones should be asked especially for the fuller repetition of the lesson of the previous day. But never should the teacher follow the order in which the pupils are seated, or the alphabetical order of the names. Jouvancy thinks that the teacher, before going to school, should go over the names of the boys and reflect whom he is to call up for repetition.⁠[810] Every one should have his turn, but duller and indolent ones should be called more frequently, as they need it most.

The 26th rule establishes an excellent principle, namely “to repeat on Saturday everything that was seen during the week.” Monday or any other fixed day will do as well. By everything is understood a thorough and careful review of the more important parts of the matter taught, especially the rules of grammar, precepts of style and rhetoric.

Jouvancy has drawn up several schemata or specimens [468]of a prelection on Cicero, Virgil and Phaedrus as adapted to different classes.⁠[811] We give the substance of two. Be it remarked, however, that the same order need not and cannot be followed strictly in all details in every prelection. They are specimens exhibiting a general rule, which is to be applied with discretion. Professor Willmann has well observed: “As all similar schemata also Jouvancy’s canon explanationis is useful if applied properly, whereas if it is carried through pedantically in all subjects and with stereotyped regularity, it makes instructions mechanical.”⁠[812]

A. Explanation of a Passage from Cicero in Rhetoric (Sophomore). Take the exordium of Cicero’s second Philippic from Quonam meo fato to Cui priusquam. We distinguish five parts in the explanation.

I. Argumentum. (Willmann: “In this part Jouvancy recommends a paraphrase of the contents, whose place is now taken by the translation.”)—When Cicero had delivered his first Philippic, Mark Anthony attacked him vehemently. To this attack Cicero replied in this oration, the second Philippic, showing that Anthony’s invectives were groundless, and that Anthony himself, because of his crimes, deserved the severest reproaches.

We explain the exordium of the oration in which Cicero declares that he has incurred the enmity of many; but that Anthony’s animosity was unfair and less called for, than that of his other adversaries, as he had never offended him as much as by a single word. But Anthony believes he could demonstrate [469]his enmity to the Republic by being an opponent of Cicero.

II. Explanatio. (Willmann: “Linguistic and logical.”) Quonam meo fato. This may have a double meaning; either: to what misfortune shall I say that I have been born; to what destiny of mine is it owing, by what fate of mine does it come to pass, that on me alone light all the arrows with which our enemies try to harm the country; or: what a happy and enviable lot that all who attack the Republic believe they must become my enemies. Either meaning is apt to gain the good will of the audience.—His annis viginti, i. e. from the beginning of his consulship, the year 690 A. U. C.—Nec vero etc. Cicero points to men like Catiline, Clodius, Piso, etc.... Tuam a me alienationem commendationem tibi ad impios cives fore putavisti. Construe: Putavisti alienationem tuam a me fore tibi commendationem [gloriae] ad impios; literally: You thought your alienation from me would be a recommendation for you to the wicked, i. e.: You thought to gain in the estimation of the destructionists, if you turned away from me and became my enemy.

III. Rhetorica. Attention is called to all that pertains to rhetoric in the highest class, to poetry in the next, to grammar, syntax in the other classes. For the class of Rhetoric this explanation may run as follows: This is the exordium of an excellent oration. The exordium or introduction has to prepare the audience for the coming speech. It has to gain their good will, and to make them attentive and docile. Let us see how Cicero complies with these three requirements of the exordium.

Good will may be gained in three ways. First, by [470]showing that the speaker is possessed of a respectable character. Secondly, by manifesting interest for his hearers’ welfare. Thirdly, by cleverly predisposing them against his adversaries. The first Cicero effects by pointing to his character to which all feeling of revenge is alien, to his previous career, and to the flattering testimony of the senate with regard to his consulship.—The second he effects by stating that all enemies of the Republic had ever become his personal enemies.—The third, by imputing to Anthony a passionate character, hatred against his country, and intimate friendship with the very dregs of the population.

The orator gains attention by telling how important the point at issue is: how the enemies of the country have become his enemies, etc.

He makes his hearers docile by briefly stating what he is going to speak about: little in his own defense, much against Anthony.

Fine exordiums of other orations may be mentioned, and also the faults which are easily made in the introduction. The rhetorical figure of subjectio: Quid putem, its force and use, may be explained.

IV. Eruditio (“General learning;” Willmann translates it appropriately by “antiquarian and subject-explanation, antiquarische, also Sacherklärung.”) In the beginning occurs the word fato. Explain what the pagans understood by this and what we Christians have to think of it.—His viginti annis. Say (or better: ask) in what year Cicero was born, when he was made consul, when he died.—Bellum indixerit. Explain how the Romans used to declare war. (The solemnities of the Fetiales).—The word maledictum [471]affords an opportunity to show the difference between maledictum, convicium and contumelia.—Mihi poenarum plus etc. A few words may be said on revenge, how little it becomes a noble character. For this end copious material may be taken from the 13th Satire of Juvenal and from the Adagia of Erasmus. Illustrations may also be taken from the treasure of Christian doctrine and Church History.

V. Latinitas. (Willmann: “The gain for vocabulary and phraseology, in short the proper technics of the pupils.”).

Bellum mihi indixerit, add a few other meanings of this verb. Mention the indictiva funera, i. e. funerals which were publicly announced.—Perhorrescere, give a few examples illustrating the force and meaning of compound words.

Verbo violatus, similarly: corpus violare vulnere, ebur ostro; fidem, foedus, jura sacra violare.

The second specimen is on Virgil’s Aeneid XII, 425–440. At its close Jouvancy adds: “In the second highest class, called Poetry or Humanities (Freshman), the same order is observed except that here more attention is paid to poetics. The strictly rhetorical part should be sparingly dealt with. In the highest Grammar class, grammar and beauty of expression claim more attention. In the two lowest classes the difference is still more striking. Here the teacher has to sail along the coast and only seldom may he venture out into the sea (of longer explanations). He must beware of the reefs along the shore, i. e. he must not become disgusted at, nor neglect, what they call trifles. To explain even one little fable will require great skill and is a sign of considerable talent.”

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The third specimen is the explanation of a little fable of Phaedrus in the lowest Grammar class. The fable is: “Personam tragicam forte vulpes viderat: O quanta species, inquit, cerebrum non habet.” The teacher explains in the vernacular.

I. Contents of the Fable.

II. Explanation: Vulpes, a fox; viderat (translate), forte (translate); personam. Persona now means “person,” but originally meant a “mask,” as used in carnival masquerades, and at mask-balls; (per—through; sonare, sound, speak; speak through); tragicam, as it was used by the players in Greek and Roman tragedies. Similarly explain all the other words, and not once only, but twice or three times, if necessary.

III. Grammar. Give declension, gender of nouns and adjectives; conjugation, tense, mood etc. of every verb. This should be done as much as possible by putting questions to the pupils. Vulpes is a noun of the third declension; like...?—Proles, clades, etc. mention such as are known already to the pupils. Then give the rules of declension, gender. Viderat, is a verb. What form? Third person singular Pluperfect Active. Present tense? video.—Like? doceo.... Perfect: Vidi. Conjugate: Vidi, vidisti, etc.—Why third person?—Forte: is an adverb. Adverbs are words which....—Personam. What case?—Why accusative? Because it is the direct object of viderat.⁠[813]—Tragicam, why not tragicum, or tragica? Explain the rule....

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IV. General Erudition. Could not a short description of the cunning fox be given? Or could not a litte story be told? Or the adage: cum vulpe vulpinandum, be explained?

Tragicam. A short easy explanation of tragedy might be given.—Cerebrum. The Latin words for other parts of the head should be added.

V. Latinity. Show the order of words and let the pupils imitate it in other sentences, e. g. Fratrem tuum nuper videram, which is better than Fratrem tuum videram nuper.

A short theme may be written in Latin: Fratrem tuum nuper videram. O quanta eruditio, dixi, mercedem non habet.

VI. Morals. The teacher may show that prudence and common sense are preferable to other natural possessions. A short story illustrating this may be told, which could be translated into Latin and repeated by one of the better pupils.

For the sake of comparison we add a schema drawn mostly from the writings of Nägelsbach and Willmann. A careful examination will prove that it is not so different from that of Jouvancy, as might appear at first sight.

I. Preparation.—1. The passage which is to be prepared by the pupils for the following day, is assigned in class. The teacher gives extensive hints on difficult points, on which the pupils otherwise might lose too much time. (In the lower and middle classes the whole text should be translated. See p. 478.)

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2. At home the pupil tries to find out the meaning of the whole text. Dots on the margin should mark the passages which he could not make out.

3. In class the text is read by a student.

II. Translation.—1. The boy who has read the text translates, the teacher and the other pupils correct the translation.

2. Explanations, linguistic and logical, are given to understand the text fully.

3. A correct and fluent translation is repeated by a boy with the help of the teacher and other boys.—The translation has to be different according to the authors: plain in Caesar and Xenophon; simple and direct in Homer; elaborate and dignified in Virgil and Cicero, etc.

III. Handling of the Text.

1. Explanation of contents. (Realerklärung. Explanatio and eruditio of Jouvancy.)

2. Pointing out of ethical momenta (quae ad mores spectant. Jouvancy).

3. Technics of rhetoric, poetry and style. (Rhetorica of Jouvancy.)

4. Latinity etc.: vocabulary, phrases, grammatical rules. (Latinitas. Jouvancy.)

IV. Repetition.—1. Let the student translate and explain the text.

2. Frequently let the pupil, instead of a strict translation, give the contents in Latin, in a simple clear style.

3. Always see whether everything is understood.

4. Put questions of such a kind as force the boys to group and view things in a new manner. Thus they are led to reflect on the subject at home. This advice [475]is also given by the Jesuit Kropf in his Ratio et Via (ch. V, art. 9): “The repetition ought to be conducted partly in the form of an examination etc.”

A few remarks about the prelection must be added:

1. After the whole work has been studied, a retrospective view is to be taken; the work is to be estimated as a whole, with its leading ideas; as a masterpiece of art; as a product of a certain age or school, from the aesthetical, philosophical, and historical point of view. This should be done especially in higher classes;—but ne quid nimis, and everything, in the words of the Ratio: “sparingly and according to the capacity of the pupils.”