Jesuit Education/Chapter 12

by Robert Schwickerath

 

Chapter XII.

Classical Studies.

Much has been written within the last few decades for and against the value of the study of the classical languages and literature.^[1] 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 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 Of late the Society has even been censured for clinging tenaciously to them, as to a venerable, but now out-of-date, curriculum.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 hesitate to accept them. They would teach, let us say French and German, instead of Latin and Greek.^[2] 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. 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.^[3] 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."^[4] Professor Helmholtz of the University of Berlin, one of the leading scientists of the nineteenth century, 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."^[5] 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."^[6]

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 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.^[7] Professor 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 thorough. This he ascribes to the more intense and more thorough training that Latin affords.^[8] 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.^[9] 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, 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."^[10]

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.^[11] 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."^[12]

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."^[13] 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 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 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."^[14]

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 than the commercial false edge. Serf-realization is the end.^[15]

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 Carthage alone of all the more considerable states of antiquity.^[16] 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.^[17] 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.^[18] 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 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 prize-fight, or a spelling match, for instance, than to take one who has never had these advantages."^[19]

Professor West of Princeton University stated in 1899 that a change of profound significance is taking place in our secondary schools.^[20] 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:

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 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." ^[21]

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.^[22] The study of Latin is better adapted to 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:

"O Rome, 'tis thine alone with awful sway
To rule mankind and make the world obey."^[23]

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 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 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?^[24] 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."^[25] 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.^[26] "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 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.^[27] Latin especially is, as Professor Paulsen styles it, "the gate to the great historical world. No 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.^[28] 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."^[29]

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 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.

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."^[30]

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."^[31] 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 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.'"^[32] 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^[33] 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.^[34] 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 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."^[35] The same applies 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."^[36] 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."^[37] In another passage he writes: "Every lesson in Latin and Greek may, or ought to be made 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."^[38] "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."^[39]

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 Ashbury 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 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 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, 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."^[40] 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."^[41]

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;"^[42] 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,^[43] "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 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.^[44] 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."^[45] 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.^[46] The Ratio and its commentator Jouvancy 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.^[47] 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.^[48] 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,^[49] 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."^[50]

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 they insisted very much on speaking and writing Latin, much more than is advisable in our days. But so did the Protestant schools.^[51] 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. 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."^[52] 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 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. 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."^[53] 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^[54] 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.^[55]

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.^[56] The Jesuits, as a body, "the greatest of all educational communities," as a writer at the time called them,^[57] 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 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."^[58]

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."^[59] 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, free-thinkers 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.^[60] The reasons for doing this are so obvious that 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.^[61] 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.

 

1. There exists a vast literature on this subject. Of more recent publications we mention only those of a man whose opinions must be of special interest to American educators, viz. those of the United States Commissioner of Education, W.T. Harris: A Brief for Latin—On the Function of the Study of Latin and Greek in Modern Education—Place of the Study of Latin and Greek in Modern Education, and Herbert Spencer and what to Study (Educational Review, September 1902). In this last article Commissioner Harris very ably refutes Spencer’s attacks on the study of the classics.—Of older works we wish to call attention to one of an American ecclesiastic, which is almost unknown: Bishop England’s Address on Classical Education ( Bishop England’s Works, vol. V, pp. 13—31), in which the advantages of a classical education are set forth with admirable force and lucidity.
2. As early as 1843 in the College of Freiburg, Switzerland, besides Latin and Greek, French, German, English, Italian, and Spanish were taught, some as obligatory, others as optional branches. Pachtler, vol. IV, pp. 546 ff.
3. See Report of Commissioner of Education, 1889-90, vol. I, pp. 343-398; and especially Schmid, Geschichte der Erziehung, vol. V, Abteilung I, pp. 357-422.
4. Duhr, p. 89 foll.
5. Schmid, l. c., p. 379. (Rep. of C. of Ed., l. c., p. 372.)
6. Schmid, l. c., p. 443.
7. Verhandlungen über Fragen des höheren Unterrichts, 1902, pp. 10, 18. Be it said, however, that Professor Slaby of Charlottenburg maintained that the graduates of the Gymnasium in his school were not as successful in the sciences as those of the scientific schools. Ibid., p. 378.
8. Die Mathematik im Reform-Gymnasium. Neue Jahrbücher, 1901, vol. VIII, pp. 190-218.
9. The same idea is well expressed by Edw. Thring in his Theory and Practice of Teaching: "The trained mind is like a skilled workman with his tools, the mind merely stocked with knowledge is like a ready made furniture shop. The one needs but a small outlay to equip, and when equipped he can always produce the things he wants. The other is costly to provide, and when provided is good only for the exact articles it contains." The Month, February 1886.
10. Contemporary Review, August 1880.
11. See The Month, Febr. 1886, pp. 170-176.
12. North American Review, June 1899.
13. The Forum, Jan. 1901, p. 584. However, in the Report delivered at the Commencement of Yale 1902, President Hadley could quote the following words of a leading employer of railroad labor: "When I want a college man, I want a man who knows that it is hard work to use books that are worth anything; and, as a preparation for railroad service, I would rather have a man who has used one hard book without liking it – a Greek dictionary if you please – than a man who thinks he knows all the experimental science and all the shop work which any school can give him, and has enjoyed it because it is easy." The Yale Alumni Weekly, July 31, 1902, p. 433. – And the Electrical World said recently (October 25) in the article "The College and Business": "In our profession such doubts are settled once for all by the great electrical companies in demanding a college education in those who cast their lot with them for technical training."
14. The Works of Bishop England, vol. V, p. 35.
15. See Buffalo Commercial, June 29, 1901.
16. Mommsen, History of Rome, vol. II, ch. 1.
17. Newman, Idea of a University.
18. See Professor Münsterberg's article in the Atlantic Monthly, May 1901.
19. Buffalo Courier, Oct. 16, 1893.
20. Educational Review, 1899, October.
21. Hughes, Loyola, p. 251.
22. See above, pp. 333-339.
23. Virgil's Aeneid, VI.
24. Professor Bennett, in his Teaching Latin in the Secondary School, pp. 12-22, points out the mental processes to be gone through in translating from the Latin into English.
25. Euphyander, p. 157; Chossat, l. c., 295.
26. Willmann, Didaktik, vol. II, 115.
27. Verhandlungen. (Transactions of the Berlin Conference 1890.) See Duhr, p. 91.
28. Verhandlungen, 1900, p. 17.
29. Fitch, Thomas and Matthew Arnold, p. 35.
30. Ratio Discendi, ch. I, art. I.
31. Quoted by Cardinal Newman in his Idea of a University, p. 271.
32. Practical Elements of Rhetoric, p. 320.
33. Matthew Arnold: On Translating Homer.
34. Arnold, l. c.
35. Newman, Development of Christian Doctrine, ch. 1.
36. Transactions; see Duhr, p. 117.
37. Stanley, Life of Arnold, vol. II, p. 112; and Fitch, Thomas and Matthew Arnold, p. 44.
38. Democracy and Other Addresses, p. 126; quoted by Genung, Practical Elements of Rhetoric, p. 320.
39. Professor Mahaffy, Irish Endowed School Commission Report, p. 244.
40. Cardinal Newman, Idea of a University, p. 263.
41. Sprüche in Prosa.
42. See page 344.
43. Letter of 1832. Hughes, Loyola, p. 290.
44. History of Pedagogy, p. 144.
45. History of Education, p. 169.
46. I do not wish to imply that Mr. Painter has consciously committed this blunder. I suspect it is based on an entirely false translation of the first Rule for the Professor of Rhetoric, which says that Latin style should be modeled chiefly after Cicero.
47. See below chapter XVI, also Reg. Prof. Rhet. I. – Reg. Hum. I., etc.
48. Ratio Docendi, ch. II, art. 4. See below ch. XVI, § 1.
49. This is the meaning of the term "formal" in many letters of the Generals, as in that of Father Beckx quoted by M. Compayré, page 145, where this author misinterprets the phrase "pure form".
50. Dr. Hirzel, in Neue Jahrbücher, 1902, vol. X, p. 53.
51. See Paulsen, Gesch. des gel. Unt., vol. I, p. 352 and passim.
52. History of Pedagogy, p. 144.
53. Gaume, Paganism in Education, translated by Robert Hill, London, Dolman, 1852.
54. Charles Daniel, S. J., Des études classiques dans la société chretienne. Paris 1853.
55. On this subject see two interesting articles in the Dublin Review: "The French Controversy on the Use of Pagan Literature in Education," vol. XXXIII, Dec. 1852, pp. 321-336; and "The Gaume Controversy on Classical Studies," vol. VII (new series), 1866, pp. 200-228.
56. La Natura e la Grazia, Rome 1865. – The fact that this Jesuit publicly opposed the views held generally by his fellow-religious, may furnish material for an important reflection. It is so often asserted that the Jesuits have to follow, like humble sheep, a certain system or set of opinions prescribed for them, and that any utterance of individual views is practically excluded. The whole history of the Order proves the contrary. Even in theological opinions, as Cardinal Newman said, the Order is not over-zealous about its traditions, or it would not suffer its great writers to be engaged in animated controversies with one another. (Historical Sketches, vol. II, p. 369.) We shall have more to say on this subject in chapter XV, when we treat of the training of the Jesuit teacher. Whenever the Jesuits as a body defend certain opinions, they do so on the intrinsic strength of the arguments for these opinions, not for the extrinsic reason of a tradition of their Order.
57. Dublin Review, December 1852, p. 322.
58. Ibid., p. 335.
59. Revue bleue, Jan. 1894. Chossat, l. c., p. 330.
60. We do not intend by any means to say that all Jesuit editors of such texts have kept to the golden mean. On the contrary, we admit that some have gone to extremes. But we do not deal here with individual cases, but with the general principle.
61. Griechisches Lesebuch. Berlin, Weidmann, 1902. Two volumes text, two volumes commentary. See on this reader, Transactions of the Berlin Conference, 1900, pp. 205-215. – Neue Jahrbücher, 1902, vol. X, pp. 270-284. – Monatschrift für höhere Schulen, Berlin, March 1902, pp. 158-160, and October. In the April number of this new educational review, p. 301, it is stated that an English edition of this work is in preparation.