Jesuit education

“It is our lot here below. No one on earth can know Charles’s secret thoughts. Did I guard him here at home ever so well, yet, in due time, it might be found that a serpent had crept into the Eden of his innocence. Boys do not fully know what is good and what is evil; they do wrong things at first almost innocently. Novelty hides vice from them; there is no one to warn them or give them rules; and they become slaves of sin while they are learning what sin is.”

Is not this a most pathetic confession of a great shortcoming of the Protestant system which renounces all inward government and direction of the soul? It leaves all to the private judgment of the individual. And yet, what a blessing for young people to have one to whom they can securely disclose “their secret thoughts.” Then this friend of their souls can “warn them and give them rules.” The evil will be discovered and counteracted before the young are slaves of sin. The Catholic youth has all this advantage in the confession. What could an Arnold, a Thring, a McCosh do here? Indeed, does not this reserve of the Protestant system frustrate in many educators talent, zeal, kindliness, and keen-eyed affection, of their best fruits?

On the educational influence of the reception of the Holy Eucharist, a beautiful passage is found in the diary of the first American Cardinal, Archbishop McCloskey of New York, written when sojourning in Rome as a young priest. “Feast of St. Aloysius, Rome, June 21, 1835. This is the peculiar festivity of the students of Rome. It is observed with the greatest solemnity at the Church of the Roman College, S. Ignazio [under the care of the Jesuits]. Nearly all the students of the college, amounting to the number of 1500, receive Holy Communion together on this day. Being anxious to witness so interesting and edifying a spectacle, I took care to be at the Church of S. Ignazio at a seasonable hour. When I arrived, the students had just entered and had taken their places in ranks forming an aisle in the middle, and extending from the altar along the nave of the church to the very door. The Community Mass, a low one, was celebrated by a Cardinal, and the choir was composed of some of the choice singers among the pupils. It may have been owing to the numberless youthful associations that were connected with the scene before me, but I must confess it was to me the most edifying and most affecting ceremony I have yet witnessed in Rome. It was one which I shall never forget. To behold that spacious and beautiful edifice almost exclusively occupied by such a number of students of every rank and almost every age, arranged in such beautiful order, their countenances bespeaking a deep sense of the act they were about to perform in receiving into their bosoms their Divine Lord and Saviour, and to hear, at the same time, the solemn strains of music which filled the place with pious harmony, was certainly enough to fill a far less sensitive breast with holy enthusiasm. The moment of Communion arrived. It was a moment in which I felt the holiness and sublimity of my religion with a peculiar force. Fifteen hundred young men and boys approached the table of their Divine Master with a modesty and a fervor most marked and sincere, and, it is to be supposed, with a corresponding purity of mind and heart, all of them in the heyday of life, and most of that age, and in those exterior circumstances, which lead the youth, particularly of Protestant colleges, to the most dangerous vices. This, assuredly, I thought was a triumphant evidence of the superior moral influence of the Catholic religion. Call it Jesuitism, call it priestcraft, call it what you please, no candid mind contemplating such a spectacle can deny that as edifying a one has never been, and never will be, presented by the same number, nor one tenth of the number, of Protestant youth in any part of the world.”⁠[946]

Besides these two principal means employed for the religious and moral training of youth, there are others which are used with the most salutary results. Among them are certain devotions recommended to, and encouraged among, the students. Non-Catholics do not view the Catholic devotions very favorably, but their antipathy springs, for the most part, from a misunderstanding of the true nature of these devotions. Protestants think that Catholics consider these practices as the essence of religion; further, they have the opinion that these devotions are merely mechanical recitations of certain set prayers. In this they are seriously mistaken.⁠[947] To the Catholic the religious devotions are not the essence of religion, but they are practical manifestations of religion and, at the same time, valuable helps to obtain and strengthen what is essential in religion, namely, the perfect subjection of the intellect and will to the will of God. Nor are they merely mechanical recitations of prayers; they are, if performed according to the mind of the Church, powerful means of lifting up the understanding, the imagination, the feelings and the will to the contemplation and active love of God. They all contain most potent motives for the moral elevation and betterment of man. Let us take that devotion which Jesuit educators recommend so much to their pupils: the devotion to St. Aloysius, the “Lily of Gonzaga.” In this devotion the picture of the highest Christian perfection attainable in youth is placed before the eyes of the students. They see in this Saint a noble youth who, in the midst of wealth and luxury and the allurements of a courtly life, preserved unsullied the white robe of innocence; a youth who from early childhood measured all things, as he himself expressed it, secundum rationes aeternas, non secundum rationes temporales, i. e. according to the value which they possess for his final destination; a youth who always followed the dictates of conscience with a chivalrous energy and steadfastness, and who heroically spurned the pleasures that prove so fatal to many young men; a youth who renounced the inheritance of a principality in order to follow the evangelical counsels, and to devote himself to the glory of God and the service of his fellow-men. Surely, a devotion which places before the admiring gaze of students such a type of youthful holiness for imitation, is a practical devotion, one that cannot fail to elevate the character of the students and make their lives purer and holier. Here we may also mention another most salutary exercise, namely, the annual retreat in which, following the directions of St. Ignatius, the end of man, the means of attaining this end, and the motives for striving after Christian sanctity are set before the mind of the pupil. What untold blessings result from these exercises, only he is able to realize who has made them.

Then there exist in every Jesuit college the Sodalities of the Blessed Mother of God, pious associations originated by the Jesuit Scholastic Leon, and solemnly recognized and highly eulogized by many Popes, beginning from Gregory XIII. (1584) down to Leo XIII. It is worth while to read the high commendation bestowed on them by the learned Pope Benedict XIV., who, as a former Jesuit pupil and member of the sodality, could well form a competent judgment upon their value. The influence of these sodalities on the moral life of the pupils cannot be valued too highly. Their members are usually the leaders in setting good example to others. The decline of sodalities was frequently followed by a decline of morality in Catholic colleges. In 1871 the sodalities in the thirty higher schools in Rhenish Prussia were hampered by government interference; it was said that the good they might do to individuals, should be accomplished by the schools without them. A year after, in 1872, Dr. Falk, Minister of Instruction in Prussia, ordered the dissolution of the sodalities in all higher schools in the kingdom. Not eight years had elapsed when Dr. Falk’s successor, von Puttkamer, on the 20th day of May 1880, had to warn the heads of the same institutions against associations formed by the students with the avowed purpose of practising drink, dishonesty and immorality.⁠[948]

These sodalities, instituted to advance the students in true and solid piety as well as learning, effected inestimable good. The members were exhorted to cherish above all that virtue which is the most beautiful ornament of youth, purity. They created a lofty moral tone in the colleges and sustained a healthy, manly public opinion. Thus these pious associations exerted a most powerful formative influence on the character of the students.⁠[949] Their piety, too, was active in works of charity. The socialists of early colleges united in bands to purchase articles of food and clothing for distribution among the poor; they visited prisoners, and consoled and instructed them; they went to the hospitals and to the squalid quarters of the city to look after the sick.⁠[950] What the students thus began to practise in college, was by many continued throughout their lives.

Nor have the sodalities ceased to achieve the same excellent results in our days. As a modern model sodality we mention that of Barcelona, consisting of seven hundred members, mostly students of the University, or members of the professions. Its Academia encourages excellent literary and scientific work.⁠[951]

Another point concerning the moral training that deserves particular mention is the care of the Society with regard to reading. The press is a mighty instrument for good and evil. With it heaven and hell are contesting for a priceless treasure—the soul of man. St. Ignatius and the framers of the Ratio Studiorum knew this full well. They tell the teacher to encourage good and wholesome reading, but even more earnestly to warn the students against dangerous books, which St. Augustine calls “the hellish stream into which the children of men are daily cast.”⁠[952] Ignatius feared lest the reading of classic authors should introduce into young minds pagan tastes and morals. Nor was his fear groundless in view of the disastrous results that had followed the one-sided study and admiration of the classics during the latter period of the Renaissance, when people not only imitated the beautiful style of the writers of antiquity but also their shocking principles.⁠[953] About the year 1550 Ignatius, who had thought long and deeply upon this subject, wrote to a prelate: “Seeing that young people are so disposed to receive and retain first impressions, whether good or bad ... and considering that books, especially classics as they are taught to boys, as Terence, Virgil, and others, contain amongst many things to be learnt, and not useless but profitable rather for life, some other things very profane and injurious even if only heard ... and so much the more, if these are placed before them in books in which they study habitually, having them in their hands—this considered, it has seemed to me, as it does still seem, that it would be very expedient if we were to remove from these classic works all the parts that are unedifying or noxious, and replace them by others of a better sort, or, without adding anything leave only what is profitable. And this appears to me up to these last years most desirable for the good Christian life and good training of our youth.”⁠[954]

The principles of St. Ignatius found a practical expression in the Constitutions of the Society,⁠[955] and later in various parts of the Ratio Studiorum.⁠[956] There it is laid down that in the authors given into the hands of the pupils all dangerous passages should be omitted, or if certain authors, as Terence, could hardly be expurgated they ought rather not to be read at all. Many modern educators or writers on education consider this anxiety of the Jesuits mere prudery. Others who have studied the question more thoroughly and conscientiously, admit that many reasons can be given for the practice of the Jesuits. Others again declare themselves unable to speak decisively on this “perplexing” question. Thus a writer in the St. James’s Gazette, after having mentioned the “castrated editions of the classics” used in the Jesuit college at Stonyhurst, England, says: “Our public schools go upon another principle; the argument being that the shock of introduction on entering the world, to what has been so zealously excluded would only lead to a sudden and fatal downfall. For my part I find the question a perplexing one.”⁠[957]

To those who see in the caution of the Society nothing but prudery, we may reply that even pagan writers, and those of the very highest standing, as Plato, Aristotle, Cicero and Quintilian, denounced emphatically the reading of certain authors of their own language and race. Quintilian well said: “As regards reading, great care is to be taken, above all things, that tender minds, which will imbibe deeply whatever has entered them when they are ignorant of everything and, as it were, resemble empty vessels, may learn not only what is well written, but, still more, what is morally good. The reading of tragedies is beneficial, the lyric poets nourish the mind, provided that you select from them, not merely authors, but portions of their works; for the Greeks are licentious in many of their writings, and I should be loath to interpret Horace in certain passages.”⁠[958] And even Ovid, that licentious writer, warns his readers if they want to be free from the consequences of disorderly passion, not to read, nay, not to touch frivolous poetry: Teneros ne tange poetas, and he includes in this class some of his own works. The language of the Fathers of the Church is unmistakable on this subject. In fact, the terms of condemnation used by some Fathers against pagan writings, are actually directed against the idolatry and immorality contained therein. It would be useless to multiply quotations.

There are modern educators, also Protestants, who on this point are at one with the Society. Thus writes Quick: “It is much to the credit of the Jesuit Fathers that, though Plautus and Terence were considered very valuable for giving a knowledge of colloquial Latin and were studied and learned by heart in the Protestant schools, the Jesuits rejected them on account of their impurity.”⁠[959] Later on expurgated editions of Plautus, Terence, Horace, Juvenal, Persius and others were published by Jesuits, especially by Father Jouvancy. The words of Professor Paul Barth of Leipsic, written a year ago, are also well worth being summarized here.⁠[960] “One of the truest sayings of Goethe is: ‘Let no one imagine that the first impressions of youth can be effaced.’ There are striking examples recorded in history how perverse reading in early years caused the greatest harm. Of course there will be wise people, even educators, who say: ‘It is true, there are some offensive passages in this work, but their effect is counteracted by other instruction. Don’t let us be pedantic. Don’t let us make so much noise about such trifles.’ These gentlemen must be answered that in education there are no trifles; that nothing is so little that it may be overlooked. For every trifle has an influence on many, very many souls of children, and in every one of these souls it can work its effect for a long time, perhaps for a whole life. Others, advocates of a ‘sound realism,’ as they style themselves, will say: ‘Evil is after all a component part of this world, and so it is beneficial to free the young of the illusion that there is no evil in the world.’ To this we reply: Belief in the moral order in this world is an energizing factor in the life of the young, and the man who robs the child of this belief, weakens its moral energy, consequently does an immoral act. Others again, granting all this, will say: ‘Although there is some danger in such reading, still it gives an insight into the life and the history of the nations.’ Such historians we answer: The history of civilization can be learned in other ways; at any rate, it is too dearly bought if it ruins the character of children.”

That no prudishness is advocated by our remarks on reading the classics, is sufficiently proved from what has been said on Homer.⁠[961] Nor do we deny that some editors of school-texts, as well as teachers, may not have gone too far in expurgating. Here, as in other matters, the golden rule is: Medio tutissimus ibis. It will always remain a delicate and difficult question to decide what is to be omitted or what may be read without danger. The tact of the teacher and skill in handling such passages will often give the proper solution. But about the correctness of the general principle laid down in the Ratio Studiorum there can be no doubt.

The same principle holds good not only of the classical authors of Greece and Rome, but of the moderns as well, if not in a higher degree.⁠[962] The ancients are direct, outspoken and straightforward, even in their obscenity; the moderns are more indirect and insinuating. The latter method is not the more harmless as might appear to the superficial, but is by far the more dangerous, since it stimulates curiosity, sets the mind thinking and leaves the reader to reflect and dwell on an unsavory and prurient subject. The Jesuit teachers are exhorted not only “not to read in class any obscene author or any book which contains matter dangerous to good morals, but also to deter most energetically their pupils from reading such books outside of class.”⁠[963] This advice about deterring pupils from bad reading, is far more necessary now-a-days than at the time when the Ratio was drawn up. How many popular books and magazines, openly, or secretly under the name of “modern science,” are advocating principles which in reality are agnostic and irreligious? How many of the novels that flood the literary market, are filled with ill-disguised nastiness? How many books are borrowed by the young people from libraries, which should never be permitted to fall into their hands? God alone knows all the harm done to faith and purity by these books. For many a talented youth, the pride and joy of a happy home, the indulging in filthy novels has been the beginning of a career of sin and crime.

As a rule it is not advisable to say this or that book is bad or indecent; for some boys, either through viciousness or curiosity, will for that very reason read the book. But should an evil publication circulate among the boys, then it should be denounced in the strongest terms.

Boys should be likewise cautioned against over-indulgence in the reading of newspapers, especially of the sensational kind. There is no worse school for the mind than such papers. They not unfrequently swarm with infamous advertisements; scandalous happenings, whose very possibility ought to be unknown to young people, are there discussed in a frivolous manner and with the omission of not a single disgusting detail. If these newspapers form the daily mental food of a boy, they will dull and blunt all sense of delicacy and modesty, and disable his mind for serious application to hard study. In his “Book of the Spiritual Exercises,” St. Ignatius pictures the inveterate enemy of mankind seated on a throne on the plains of Babylon, despatching innumerable demons all over the world, to every city and every person in order to ensnare and deceive men. This wily fiend has undergone a marvellous metamorphosis. He makes use of the doctrine of evolution, adapting himself to new circumstances. He is no longer the horned and hoofed monster of olden legends, but a polished, well-read gentleman, who manages thousands of printing establishments. And every mail carries countless demons, in the shape of bad novels, magazines and papers, to every city, every town, every village, every dwelling, no matter how secluded or remote. Shall we expect these envoys of Satan, “transformed into angels of light,” to overlook our schools and colleges? Alas, how often do they sneak in, unnoticed by porter or janitor, to work their deeds of darkness among the young. Naught but the utmost vigilance on the part of school authorities will be able to counteract these evils. Certainly the principle of St. Ignatius and the Ratio Studiorum need not be further vindicated.⁠[964]

We must make some remarks about sports, which take so important a part in our modern schools. We do this in connection with moral education for various reasons. First, because a moderate use of athletics helps to develop certain moral qualities. Secondly, because some moderns see in it a remedy for nearly all vicious habits of youth. They rejoice that “muscular Christianity,” “a sound, practical, sensible, worldly basis of life has taken the place of the morbid asceticism and unreal superstitions and transcendentalism of former generations, which considered the flesh a burden, a clog, a snare.”⁠[965]—Thirdly, because excess in athletics leads to serious damage, moral as well as intellectual.

The physical culture of the pupils forms a most important feature in a good system of education: sit mens sana in corpore sano. Athletics, out-door sports and gymnastics do much for the physical health of the students. Besides, they demand, and consequently help to develop, quickness of apprehension, steadiness and coolness, self-reliance, self-control, readiness to subordinate individual impulses to a command. This is all valuable for education. Still, “in the reaction from the asceticism of our early college life there is little doubt our athletics have gone too far; so far as to direct in a noticeable degree the student’s attention from his studies.”⁠[966] Indeed, it has come to pass that among students base-ball, foot-ball, boat-races and other sports form almost the exclusive topic of conversation. The favorite reading is the sporting sheet of the newspaper. Some college periodicals give almost more space to athletics than to literature. “Pray,” said an Oxford Don to President McCosh, after reading several numbers of the Princetonian, “are you the president of a gymnastic institution?”⁠[967] The dangers arise not so much from athletic exercises themselves, as from their publicity and the universal admiration in which they are held. There is in our days a morbid craving for notoriety; people wish to be interviewed, to be talked about, to be kept before the eyes of the public. Many a young man thinks he cannot realize this ambition better than by athletic triumphs. Thus by competitive games much time and talent is wasted, much enthusiasm for higher aspirations is stifled. Unfortunately, some colleges, instead of checking this spirit have catered to it. No wonder that boys have changed their views of the ideal student. Their ideals are on the campus, no longer in the domain of literature and science. The hero to whom they look up with admiration is not the leading boy in the class, not the one who at the end of the year carries off the honors, but the one “who breaks the world’s record” in some athletic contest. Many prefer the approving shout of thousands of spectators on the football field to the earning of class honor. Indeed brain is no longer the highest human gift in the eyes of a great number of students, but muscles and muscular achievements. And a writer in a periodical for September 1901, boasted that “we are fast becoming a nation of athletes.” The best educators are unanimous in condemning this excessive spirit of athleticism. They foresee the serious dangers that spring from it, to intellectual and moral culture.⁠[968]

The Jesuits have never neglected the care of the health of their pupils.⁠[969] Long ago they had introduced various games into their colleges and did much to interest all the pupils in them. This is mentioned as a laudable feature of their educational system even by men who wrote in a hostile spirit against the Society.⁠[970] The Jesuits recognized the importance of games at a period when they were little esteemed by others. “The schools of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are in general noted for their gloomy neglect of this cheerful element in the education of youth. The schools of the Jesuits were, in this respect, conducted on more reasonable principles than most of the rest.”⁠[971] It is a well-known fact that in Germany sport in the higher schools, is, or was, until recently, neglected more than is expedient for the general development of the pupils. And yet, wherever German Jesuits opened a college, be it in Freiburg (Switzerland), Feldkirch (Vorarlberg), or Sao Leopoldo (Brazil), everywhere they introduced and encouraged plenty of healthful games, an evident sign that it is the spirit of the Society to give the pupils sufficient recreation. Of the French Jesuits, the Figaro wrote years ago (June 2, 1879): “Games and amusements occupy an important place in the schools of the Jesuits. They are as much interested about the place of recreation as about the study hall. The prefects induce the pupils to join in the games with the same ardor they display in stimulating them to work at their books. Two prefects, Fathers de Nodaillac and Rousseau, have written the history of games.... Fencing is honored and encouraged in the Jesuit schools. In the three institutions at Paris (rue de Madrid, de Vaugirard and des Postes) more than four hundred pupils take lessons in fencing under the direction of the best instructors.”⁠[972] It is not necessary to prove that in English speaking countries the Jesuit colleges do not neglect this part of training.