[61] A few years ago you might have been surprised (shocked?) to hear that Guy Lombardo had written a mass. Or Spike Jones. Today people in that category are writting [sic] masses but without the talent or musicianship of anybody leading a name-band or even a local combo. I wonder what the Rolling Stones, the Four Lads, (going back again) Jackie Gleason or the Dave Clark Five could work up for a church wedding or a modern Requiem? The Beatles might attract a crowd with some special music for Holy Week. Lloyd Thaxton could probably take over some afternoon Mass in California and direct the crowd through a Gloria in the best Frug rhythms, or Peter, Paul and Mary might be invited to some cathderal [sic] to work out a few numbers for Christmas. But get everybody into it. Just so they all participate!
A few musicologists and a great number of non-musicologists have decided lately that there is really no difference between secular and church music. The problem isn't half so much whether there is a difference as whether they want a difference. We must attract teenagers, relate to the existential world, accept a realistic culture — and all that. Then why not retranslate the Hail Mary into jive-talk or into ancient rock n' roll: "like man, Mary, you are in, really cool among women...." I'd better stop. As someone said, "It's all right for me to make these cracks because I'm deeply religious!" If you use the music, why not use the words that go with it? Under what auspices are we trying to achieve participation? Togetherness. With the latest hankering for store-front churches and family masses, much could be done to "come alive" with the music. Or are all these sentiments the final groanings of a bitter conservative? I think not. Not as long as God is worthy of the best we have in talent and art and appropriate expression; not as long as we can distinguish between the Eucharist and a continental breakfast!
It seems more and more evident, as hootenanny masses are being promoted here and there, that we had better line up our notions of participation with the purpose we have in participation; otherwise, see if you can program a little Gregorian Chant for the New Year's party in the Blue Room of New Orlean's Roosevelt Hotel. There must be a difference between secular and sacred music! The Church has been trying to impress this doctrine on people since the days of Palestrina. The vestments of a priest (how long will they last?) indicate the vast difference between worshipping God and driving a taxicab. The windows in a church are supposed to add something sacred to the mere function of ventilation. So with the language we address to God. So, then, with the music we use in His presence.
[62] Serious-minded church musicians are alarmed by the great number of inept composers who contribute to the current mediocrity in music destined for worship. The rediscovery of private judgment and freedom of untrained opinion has silenced many proficient musicians and stimulated people to compose who hardly understand the elements of the modern major scale. When I was a child I begged and begged to be allowed to sit at the piano. Finally the day came when the concession was granted for a period of two minutes. I was dismayed that I couldn't make effective music simply by hitting the piano with my hands and fists. The only difference between some of these composers and me is that they seem undismayed by the results of their efforts.
These jeremiads have been repeated over and over, but the stockpile of church-music "bombs" increases hourly. Some liturgical people have developed a keen discriminatory sense regarding metrical English hymns; they anathematize — rightly — the old sugar-tunes and ballads and commend heartily the vast importation of heterodox tunes and amended texts — rightly; but they seem to look with unruffled spirit upon every kind of musical tripe which is set to the proper and the ordinary of High Masses: "It's good; everybody will participate." Is it artistic, well adapted to reverent worship, competently composed by people with true musical instinct? "Oh, that's not important: the thing is to get the people singing!" This is not a complaint against modern or contemporary concepts or true progressivism in church music; it's a complaint against the tawdry and secularistic substitutes. Too often if a piece of music is sufficiently discordant it is considered "aggiornamented," — "hodiernistic," I like to call it. Discord and dissonance mean the same thing to an untrained musician. If the music follows the fundamental rules of acoustics (harmony and counterpoint) it's "romantic" — Ugh! that ugly word! But a musician should know the rules of harmony well enough to break them skillfully and for a good musical reason. Bad grammar may be respectable at times if it is used deliberately. Otherwise it is just stupidity. Not so in hodiernistic church music! Anything goes, just so the crowd can be made to sing it. To impose the free expression of an ignorant composer on a congregation is to make slaves of the many! The people will accept the compositions of a well-prepared and knowledgeable musician even if some elements were foreign to their tastes. They could assume, at least, that they were being asked to sing good music, music worthy of the worship of God.
The whole problem is reducible to an appropriate system of wieghts [sic] and measures: standards. That problem cannot be handled well except by trained musicians any more than a simple appendectomy can be performed by a whittler. The Church Music Association of America will shortly be calling [63] upon definitely proficient musicians to put out a list of recommended music as a service to choirmasters and organists. There will likely be no direct condemnations of any music proposed for church use, but on a positive level the Association will name the items which it feels will preserve the proper elements for truly artistic and worship-engendering music. This list will supplant the former "White List of the St. Gregory Society" which attempted the same thing at a level based on church legislation. At any rate, the judgment of competent church musicians will afford greater reliability in deciding what is appropriate and spiritual.
The problems connected with the adaptation of chant to the vernacular have been gone over in the previous issue of SACRED MUSIC as well as in other trade papers; but there is no question that St. Pius X's principle about judging music for church on the objective standards of the movement, inspiration and savor of the Gregorian Chant is entirely valid today; all subsequent direction from the Holy See has backed up the same principle because it produces a music which is innately holy, artistic and universally acceptable. That does not mean that we must compose chant, or distort the chant melodies by weaving them into modern music. But all church music, however up-to-date, will have the qualities proper to worship when it reflects the spirit which the chant evinces.
Presently being prepared is a type of music known as Verna Canto which will undoubtedly come into very wide use. The composer intends to remain ananymous [sic]. The experimental stages have revealed that the music has a high spiritual content, is ideally suited to the vernacular and, though it preserves the modality and the rhythm of the ancient chant, it makes no attempt to reflect the actual melodies or musical formulae. Others have also experimented with adaptations of polyphony, but these efforts may not fare so well. In spite of that, the original literature is often so noble that it may furnish a legitimate excuse for some arbitrary use of Latin in our future liturgy.
Modern and contemporary church music is impossible for the hack, the amateur composer. Only a skilled musician can keep it from all sorts of absurd affectations and eccentricities. The banalities produced under this category are indistinguishable from the abominations about which we have been complaining. The liturgy is still to undergo many changes in text and format. Experiments are soon to be conducted in this country, but the strain of waiting for a truly spiritual music based on a final form for the English should not drive us into accepting the worse-than-mediocre materials which are produced these days in so great an abundance. What we might consider a temporary expedient could dissipate good taste and propriety for generations. Caution is then the interim corollary.
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Source: John C. Selner, "Singing the New Songs," Sacred Music 92, no. 1 (1965): 61–63.
Tuesday, November 12, 2019
Church Legislation on Education in 1929
[12] THE OFFICIAL POSITION of the Catholic Church regarding education can be clearly determined by reference to three sources, namely: the Decrees of the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore, the Code of Canon Law and the 1919 Pastoral Letter of the Hierarchy.
"All parents shall be bound to send their children to a parochial school, unless it is evident that such children obtain a sufficient Christian education at home, or unless they attend some other Catholic school, or unless, for sufficient cause approved by the bishop, with proper cautions and remedies duly applied, they attend another school. It is left to the Ordinary to decide what constitutes a Catholic school."—From the Law Promulgated by the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore, 1884.
Canon 1113: "Parents are bound by a most grave obligation to provide to the best of their ability for the religious and moral as well as for the physical and civil education of their children, and for their temporal well-being."
Canon 1373: "In every elementary school religious instruction, adapted to the age of the children, must be given."
Canon 1374: "Catholic children must not attend non-Catholic. neutral, or mixed schools, that is, such as are also open to non-Catholics. It is for the bishop of the place alone to decide, according to the instructions of the Apostolic See, in what circumstances and with what precautions attendance at such schools may be tolerated, without danger of perversion to the pupils."—From the New Code of Canon Law [i.e. the 1917 Code].
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Source: "Legislation of the Church on Education," The National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 11, no. 3 (Aug. 1929): 12.
"All parents shall be bound to send their children to a parochial school, unless it is evident that such children obtain a sufficient Christian education at home, or unless they attend some other Catholic school, or unless, for sufficient cause approved by the bishop, with proper cautions and remedies duly applied, they attend another school. It is left to the Ordinary to decide what constitutes a Catholic school."—From the Law Promulgated by the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore, 1884.
Canon 1113: "Parents are bound by a most grave obligation to provide to the best of their ability for the religious and moral as well as for the physical and civil education of their children, and for their temporal well-being."
Canon 1373: "In every elementary school religious instruction, adapted to the age of the children, must be given."
Canon 1374: "Catholic children must not attend non-Catholic. neutral, or mixed schools, that is, such as are also open to non-Catholics. It is for the bishop of the place alone to decide, according to the instructions of the Apostolic See, in what circumstances and with what precautions attendance at such schools may be tolerated, without danger of perversion to the pupils."—From the New Code of Canon Law [i.e. the 1917 Code].
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Source: "Legislation of the Church on Education," The National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 11, no. 3 (Aug. 1929): 12.
The Religious School: An American Institution (1929)
[11] *
HISTORICALLY, FREEDOM OF education has always been a characteristic of our American polity. The first American schools were religious, and they continued so up to the middle of the last century.
In origin, at least, the secular school is not an American institution; it is an importation from Continental Europe, born of the compromises and ambitions of contending politicians.
Constitutionally, the religious school is as American as the secular school. If there is one point in American jurisprudence which is accepted by all, it is the principle that to the parent belongs the primary right to educate and to select the type of education he desires his children to have.
Legal decision after decision confirms that right. The Supreme Court itself, in the famous Oregon decision [i.e. Pierce vs. Society of Sisters of the Holy Names (1925) regarding an Oregon law requiring children to attend only public schools], once and forever settled that question of right. And in the pursuance of that right of American citizenship, if we elect to give at our own expense a religious education to our children, who can gainsay that right, who can accuse us of disloyalty to the Constitution, who can justly contend that we oppose one of the fundamental institutions of the country?
Since the beginning of this nation we have had religious schools; we have the constitutional right to conduct such schools; we would be traitors to our highest interests and to our profoundest beliefs in the need of religious training for the preservation of the best in American citizenship, were we to fail to maintain and support religious education.
THE reason is simple—religious education for us is not a purple patch added on to the ordinary curriculum. It is the very soul, the life-breath of all our training. It is as necessary to the preservation and development of Catholic life as is the air we breathe to the preservation of our natural life. To close our schools in the hope that our fellow-citizens would then come to understand that we do not oppose public education, would be a futile gesture; it would be to betray our faith in American justice, history, law; it would but add to the tremendous difficulties which every democracy must face in its continuous struggle for existence; it would be a denial of our very belief in the teaching of Christ which we profess to hold.
Fortunately, one need no longer defend, at least in educational circles, the religious school. There has come about a wonderful change in viewpoint in that regard in the last ten years. To an attitude of hostility there has succeeded an attitude of challenge, and I venture to think that it will be much more difficult for us to meet the latter than it was the former.
The religious school today is on trial before the bar of American education. And it will be judged in the only way that Americans know how to judge—by results. Its future will be determined not by attacks made upon it but rather by the type of men and women which the religious school produces. It is to them that we must turn, in the last analysis, for the justification of our schools.
IF the religious school continues to turn out, as it has done, strong, virile, intelligent, unusually upright men and women as citizens of this Republic, we need have little fear of those narrow partisans who go about poisoning the public conscience with the age-old cry of Catholic opposition to the public school.
The Catholic citizenship of this Republic can not [sic] rise above its source—and that source is our schools. If we are to be compelled, for any reason whatsoever, to continue to meet rancor, prejudice, hatred, and discrimination, let us meet them in the only way Christians can and should, and in the only way which will bring certain and complete victory. And what is that way? By concentrating our efforts toward the development of a Catholic body which, because of its understanding, intelligence, and virtue, will be irresistible. Knowledge can conquer ignorance; love, hatred; truth, prejudice; loyalty, distrust. And the great instrument in the production of these qualities in our men and women is the school. From elementary school to university let us make of these schools a great crucible from which shall come forth gold of the purest quality in the form of alert, sincere, educated men and women.
I WOULD particularly insist on the need of university trained men and women, since it is from them that leadership and all the accomplishments which we associate rightly with finely trained minds must come. The training of scholars may seem, at first view, no part of our Catholic duty. On second thought there is no one who can not understand that without general support the university can not function as it should, that it is to the interest of each individual, no matter how lowly his position may be, to assist in the training of that group of scholars who by their labors in the fields of science, philosophy, and religion will do more to dispel the dark clouds of ignorance and bigotry than a veritable army of men ready to lay down their lives for their beliefs.
I am not quite sure whether we would succeed, should we go out at this time to the American public and seek directly its understanding and appreciation of our position. But I am sure that if we continue to contribute to the upbuilding of the national life those qualities of heart and mind which [27] are found in every true Catholic citizen, that if particularly from our universities men go forth who will loyally do their share in the development of the intellectual and moral life of our country, I am sure that the fog of intolerance which seems to be setting down upon our fair land will soon be dispelled before this glorious sun of understanding; that in the centuries to come this nation will be illumined and go forward to ever loftier heights, led on by the pure light which comes from truth joined with that love which Christ came to bring us here below, which He foretold would bind His brethren together, would be an unfailing sign to the whole world that men were truly Christian.
---
Footnote:
* From an Address delivered at the June, 1929 Commencement Exercises of the Cathedral High School, Indianapolis, Ind.
---
Source: Msgr. James H. Ryan, "The Religious School: An American Institution," The National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 11, no. 3 (Aug. 1929): 11, 27.
HISTORICALLY, FREEDOM OF education has always been a characteristic of our American polity. The first American schools were religious, and they continued so up to the middle of the last century.
In origin, at least, the secular school is not an American institution; it is an importation from Continental Europe, born of the compromises and ambitions of contending politicians.
Constitutionally, the religious school is as American as the secular school. If there is one point in American jurisprudence which is accepted by all, it is the principle that to the parent belongs the primary right to educate and to select the type of education he desires his children to have.
Legal decision after decision confirms that right. The Supreme Court itself, in the famous Oregon decision [i.e. Pierce vs. Society of Sisters of the Holy Names (1925) regarding an Oregon law requiring children to attend only public schools], once and forever settled that question of right. And in the pursuance of that right of American citizenship, if we elect to give at our own expense a religious education to our children, who can gainsay that right, who can accuse us of disloyalty to the Constitution, who can justly contend that we oppose one of the fundamental institutions of the country?
Since the beginning of this nation we have had religious schools; we have the constitutional right to conduct such schools; we would be traitors to our highest interests and to our profoundest beliefs in the need of religious training for the preservation of the best in American citizenship, were we to fail to maintain and support religious education.
THE reason is simple—religious education for us is not a purple patch added on to the ordinary curriculum. It is the very soul, the life-breath of all our training. It is as necessary to the preservation and development of Catholic life as is the air we breathe to the preservation of our natural life. To close our schools in the hope that our fellow-citizens would then come to understand that we do not oppose public education, would be a futile gesture; it would be to betray our faith in American justice, history, law; it would but add to the tremendous difficulties which every democracy must face in its continuous struggle for existence; it would be a denial of our very belief in the teaching of Christ which we profess to hold.
Fortunately, one need no longer defend, at least in educational circles, the religious school. There has come about a wonderful change in viewpoint in that regard in the last ten years. To an attitude of hostility there has succeeded an attitude of challenge, and I venture to think that it will be much more difficult for us to meet the latter than it was the former.
The religious school today is on trial before the bar of American education. And it will be judged in the only way that Americans know how to judge—by results. Its future will be determined not by attacks made upon it but rather by the type of men and women which the religious school produces. It is to them that we must turn, in the last analysis, for the justification of our schools.
IF the religious school continues to turn out, as it has done, strong, virile, intelligent, unusually upright men and women as citizens of this Republic, we need have little fear of those narrow partisans who go about poisoning the public conscience with the age-old cry of Catholic opposition to the public school.
The Catholic citizenship of this Republic can not [sic] rise above its source—and that source is our schools. If we are to be compelled, for any reason whatsoever, to continue to meet rancor, prejudice, hatred, and discrimination, let us meet them in the only way Christians can and should, and in the only way which will bring certain and complete victory. And what is that way? By concentrating our efforts toward the development of a Catholic body which, because of its understanding, intelligence, and virtue, will be irresistible. Knowledge can conquer ignorance; love, hatred; truth, prejudice; loyalty, distrust. And the great instrument in the production of these qualities in our men and women is the school. From elementary school to university let us make of these schools a great crucible from which shall come forth gold of the purest quality in the form of alert, sincere, educated men and women.
I WOULD particularly insist on the need of university trained men and women, since it is from them that leadership and all the accomplishments which we associate rightly with finely trained minds must come. The training of scholars may seem, at first view, no part of our Catholic duty. On second thought there is no one who can not understand that without general support the university can not function as it should, that it is to the interest of each individual, no matter how lowly his position may be, to assist in the training of that group of scholars who by their labors in the fields of science, philosophy, and religion will do more to dispel the dark clouds of ignorance and bigotry than a veritable army of men ready to lay down their lives for their beliefs.
I am not quite sure whether we would succeed, should we go out at this time to the American public and seek directly its understanding and appreciation of our position. But I am sure that if we continue to contribute to the upbuilding of the national life those qualities of heart and mind which [27] are found in every true Catholic citizen, that if particularly from our universities men go forth who will loyally do their share in the development of the intellectual and moral life of our country, I am sure that the fog of intolerance which seems to be setting down upon our fair land will soon be dispelled before this glorious sun of understanding; that in the centuries to come this nation will be illumined and go forward to ever loftier heights, led on by the pure light which comes from truth joined with that love which Christ came to bring us here below, which He foretold would bind His brethren together, would be an unfailing sign to the whole world that men were truly Christian.
---
Footnote:
* From an Address delivered at the June, 1929 Commencement Exercises of the Cathedral High School, Indianapolis, Ind.
---
Source: Msgr. James H. Ryan, "The Religious School: An American Institution," The National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 11, no. 3 (Aug. 1929): 11, 27.
The Home – Society's Fundamental Educational Agency (1929)
[6] "THE home is the fundamental educational agency in society. The first right to educate belongs to the parents. Catholic schools exist because Catholic parents are convinced that the only education which can insure a noble and happy life for their children is that which is rooted and founded in the religion of Jesus Christ. In the words of our Holy Father, Pius XI, 'The state has nothing to fear from education given by the Church and under its guidance; it is this education which has prepared modern civilization in all it has which is really good, superior, and lofty.'
"Catholic schools from kindergarten to university achieve their purpose only in the measure in which they reflect and inculcate a Catholic philosophy of life. The Catholic educator faces no greater responsibility than that of understanding the educational implications of Catholic philosophy and their application to every detail of organization, method, and administration.
"The curriculum of the American school suffers from overloading and lack of organization. Expediency has blinded us to ultimate principles and destroyed in us a sense of relative value. There is need of a sound determination of the fundamentals of education. Applicable to the present situation are these words of our Holy Father: 'We who have some personal experience of teaching and books often fear lest the danger foreseen by St. Augustine be lying in wait for our dear young people: necessaria non norunt, quia superflua didicerunt.' [Trans: they did not know the necessary things because they learned the superfluous.]
"As Catholic educators we need to take strict account of ourselves that we may determine to what extent the superfluous is usurping the field of the necessary in our programs of instruction."
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Source: "The Home – Society's Fundamental Educational Agency: A Timely and Forceful Pronouncement by the National Catholic Educational Association," The National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 11, no. 3 (Aug. 1929): 6.
"Catholic schools from kindergarten to university achieve their purpose only in the measure in which they reflect and inculcate a Catholic philosophy of life. The Catholic educator faces no greater responsibility than that of understanding the educational implications of Catholic philosophy and their application to every detail of organization, method, and administration.
"The curriculum of the American school suffers from overloading and lack of organization. Expediency has blinded us to ultimate principles and destroyed in us a sense of relative value. There is need of a sound determination of the fundamentals of education. Applicable to the present situation are these words of our Holy Father: 'We who have some personal experience of teaching and books often fear lest the danger foreseen by St. Augustine be lying in wait for our dear young people: necessaria non norunt, quia superflua didicerunt.' [Trans: they did not know the necessary things because they learned the superfluous.]
"As Catholic educators we need to take strict account of ourselves that we may determine to what extent the superfluous is usurping the field of the necessary in our programs of instruction."
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Source: "The Home – Society's Fundamental Educational Agency: A Timely and Forceful Pronouncement by the National Catholic Educational Association," The National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 11, no. 3 (Aug. 1929): 6.
How, When, and What to Play: A Guide for Catholic Organists (1934)
[543] INTRODUCTION
A musician called to offer the fruits of his talents to the service of God, either as a composer, as a choirmaster, or as an organist, in a Catholic Church should conform to the regulations established by the Catholic Church. Such rules, prescriptions, or regulations, are definite and precise.
In the old Law (Deut. XXVIII, 15) is the command of God saying: ". . . .if thou will not hear the voice of the Lord, thy God, to keep and to do all His commandments and ceremonies, which I command thee this day, all these curses shall come upon thee. Cursed shalt thou be in the city, cursed in the field. Cursed shall be thy barn, and cursed thy stores, etc."
And down, in more recent ages, we find Pius V, who orders us: ". . . .decantetur aut recitetur Missa juxta ritum, modum et norman quae per Missale traditur" ("The Mass shall be sung or said according to the rite, the way and the rule laid down in the Missal").
There are many other regulations, or ecclesiastical orders, to prove that no one has any right to presume the possibility of disregarding, with impunity, any regulation of which Our Mother the Church is a very jealous custodian. As soon as we know and feel truly convinced that the Church is the House of God, and we go there ONLY to pray and to worship our Creator and our Redeemer, we easily come to the natural conclusion that everything should be in accordance with the first aim and intention.
In the Introduction to the Motu Proprio, we read: "Nothing therefore ought to occur in tne Temple, which disturbs, or even merely diminishes, the piety and devotion of the Faithful. . . .and, above all, nothing which offends against the decorum and sanctity of the sacred offices, and which appears unworthy of the House of prayer and the Majesty of God."
Consequently all the ceremonies and the singing and playing is to be done in the way that the Church prescribes, abhorring everything that would be even a smallest profanation of that very House of God.
The Duties of The Organist At A Low Mass
In almost all the Catholic Churches in this Country, the organist is also the Choirmaster (or director of the Choir); therefore what is said here of the one, is understood also for the other. A person who occupies a place of responsibility in society must know the duties of his state.
A priest, a doctor, a lawyer, a justice or any magistrate etc. has to know the duties of his particular position. "Whoever asserts that the accepted and approved Rites of the Catholic Church can be ignored or omitted at pleasure, or changed by any Pastor of the Church, let him be an anathema." (Councel [sic] of Trent, 7th S. Can. 13). Consequently, as the Catholic organist occupies a very important place in the service of the House of God he has a duty to learn and to know and to practice [emphasis original] what concerns him, according to his position. He must learn "how to appreciate and love our holy Liturgy". The organist, besides knowing HOW to play well his instrument, must also know especially WHEN to play it; and here the writer will try to help him, by consulting together the three most important official Sources of the Latin Liturgy, namely the Coeremoniale Episcoporum (Ceremonial of the Bishops), the Council of Trent, and the precious Motu proprio of Pius X. It would be well that every Catholic organist and choirmaster should have and peruse the above mentioned Motu proprio, to which that holy Pope commanded that "the force of Law be given", and to the same He imposed a "scrupulous observance on all". And now, let us see at last when the organ may be played at a low Mass.
We may say that in general, it is allowed, or optional, to play the organ at every extraliturgical [sic] service, an organist may start to play a few minutes before the Celebrant goes [544] to the altar for a low Mass*; on all Sundays and Festivals on which the people abstain from servile work; except the Sundays of Advent and Lent; among these are not included the Sundays of Advent and Lent, except the Sunday Gaudette [sic] and Laetare, i.e. the 3rd Sunday of Advent and the 4th of Lent". We may add that the organ, without singing, may play on the Feasts and Ferias in Advent and Lent which are celebrated solemnly by the Church: it is also understood that the organ (without singing) is not allowed in the Masses of the Dead. We said it is optional to play the organ during all the time of a low Mass, loud or soft; in fact if the Ceremonial of the Bishops says that "ad elevationem Sanctissimi Sacramenti pulsatur organum graviori et dulciori sono, during the elevation the organ plays in a grave and sweet way" (XXVIII, 9), it is clear enough that it can play also during the rest of the time of the Mass; but an organist who understands (as he ought to) the various parts of Holy Mass, knows HOW and WHEN to play loud, or soft, or moderately; and, to give an idea, he can play a little louder before the Mass, during the reading of the Gospel, and after the Mass, continuing (if he likes) until a few minutes after the Celebrant has gone to the Sacristy. But let me end this Chapter with the quotation of some good words of Fr. J. Kelly: "As people attend Mass to praise God in supreme act of worship, the position of the organist being a sacred one he should contribute to this praise by such music as will assist the people in their devotions; the possession of technical ability does not imply the possession of skill in playing a Catholic liturgical service." And much more forcible are these words of the Caerem. Ep.: "Cavendum est ne sonus organi sit lascivus aut impurus" (XXVIII, 11), ("Endeavor that the playing of the organ be not lascivious or obscene".) Consequently not all the piano or concert-music is good for the organ, in Church services.
As far as here, the above rules concern only low Mass, when there is no singing at all. Now let us see what the organist (or choirmaster) has to know and to do at the low Mass, when there is singing.
(To be continued.)
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Footnotes:
* This can be done "in omnibus Dominicis et omnibus festis per annum occurrentibus, in quibus populi a servilibus operibus abstinere solent. Inter eas non connumeratur Dominicae Adventus et Quadragesimae except a Dominica tertia Adventus quae dicitur Gaudete in Domino et quarta Quadragesimae, quae dicitur Laetare, Jerusalem, et nisi celebratur pro Defunctis" (Caerem. Episc. XXVIII. 1-2).
Source: Giuseppe Villani, "'How, When and What to Play': A Guide for Catholic Organists," The Caecilia 60, no. 11 (Dec. 1934): 543–544.
A musician called to offer the fruits of his talents to the service of God, either as a composer, as a choirmaster, or as an organist, in a Catholic Church should conform to the regulations established by the Catholic Church. Such rules, prescriptions, or regulations, are definite and precise.
In the old Law (Deut. XXVIII, 15) is the command of God saying: ". . . .if thou will not hear the voice of the Lord, thy God, to keep and to do all His commandments and ceremonies, which I command thee this day, all these curses shall come upon thee. Cursed shalt thou be in the city, cursed in the field. Cursed shall be thy barn, and cursed thy stores, etc."
And down, in more recent ages, we find Pius V, who orders us: ". . . .decantetur aut recitetur Missa juxta ritum, modum et norman quae per Missale traditur" ("The Mass shall be sung or said according to the rite, the way and the rule laid down in the Missal").
There are many other regulations, or ecclesiastical orders, to prove that no one has any right to presume the possibility of disregarding, with impunity, any regulation of which Our Mother the Church is a very jealous custodian. As soon as we know and feel truly convinced that the Church is the House of God, and we go there ONLY to pray and to worship our Creator and our Redeemer, we easily come to the natural conclusion that everything should be in accordance with the first aim and intention.
In the Introduction to the Motu Proprio, we read: "Nothing therefore ought to occur in tne Temple, which disturbs, or even merely diminishes, the piety and devotion of the Faithful. . . .and, above all, nothing which offends against the decorum and sanctity of the sacred offices, and which appears unworthy of the House of prayer and the Majesty of God."
Consequently all the ceremonies and the singing and playing is to be done in the way that the Church prescribes, abhorring everything that would be even a smallest profanation of that very House of God.
The Duties of The Organist At A Low Mass
In almost all the Catholic Churches in this Country, the organist is also the Choirmaster (or director of the Choir); therefore what is said here of the one, is understood also for the other. A person who occupies a place of responsibility in society must know the duties of his state.
A priest, a doctor, a lawyer, a justice or any magistrate etc. has to know the duties of his particular position. "Whoever asserts that the accepted and approved Rites of the Catholic Church can be ignored or omitted at pleasure, or changed by any Pastor of the Church, let him be an anathema." (Councel [sic] of Trent, 7th S. Can. 13). Consequently, as the Catholic organist occupies a very important place in the service of the House of God he has a duty to learn and to know and to practice [emphasis original] what concerns him, according to his position. He must learn "how to appreciate and love our holy Liturgy". The organist, besides knowing HOW to play well his instrument, must also know especially WHEN to play it; and here the writer will try to help him, by consulting together the three most important official Sources of the Latin Liturgy, namely the Coeremoniale Episcoporum (Ceremonial of the Bishops), the Council of Trent, and the precious Motu proprio of Pius X. It would be well that every Catholic organist and choirmaster should have and peruse the above mentioned Motu proprio, to which that holy Pope commanded that "the force of Law be given", and to the same He imposed a "scrupulous observance on all". And now, let us see at last when the organ may be played at a low Mass.
We may say that in general, it is allowed, or optional, to play the organ at every extraliturgical [sic] service, an organist may start to play a few minutes before the Celebrant goes [544] to the altar for a low Mass*; on all Sundays and Festivals on which the people abstain from servile work; except the Sundays of Advent and Lent; among these are not included the Sundays of Advent and Lent, except the Sunday Gaudette [sic] and Laetare, i.e. the 3rd Sunday of Advent and the 4th of Lent". We may add that the organ, without singing, may play on the Feasts and Ferias in Advent and Lent which are celebrated solemnly by the Church: it is also understood that the organ (without singing) is not allowed in the Masses of the Dead. We said it is optional to play the organ during all the time of a low Mass, loud or soft; in fact if the Ceremonial of the Bishops says that "ad elevationem Sanctissimi Sacramenti pulsatur organum graviori et dulciori sono, during the elevation the organ plays in a grave and sweet way" (XXVIII, 9), it is clear enough that it can play also during the rest of the time of the Mass; but an organist who understands (as he ought to) the various parts of Holy Mass, knows HOW and WHEN to play loud, or soft, or moderately; and, to give an idea, he can play a little louder before the Mass, during the reading of the Gospel, and after the Mass, continuing (if he likes) until a few minutes after the Celebrant has gone to the Sacristy. But let me end this Chapter with the quotation of some good words of Fr. J. Kelly: "As people attend Mass to praise God in supreme act of worship, the position of the organist being a sacred one he should contribute to this praise by such music as will assist the people in their devotions; the possession of technical ability does not imply the possession of skill in playing a Catholic liturgical service." And much more forcible are these words of the Caerem. Ep.: "Cavendum est ne sonus organi sit lascivus aut impurus" (XXVIII, 11), ("Endeavor that the playing of the organ be not lascivious or obscene".) Consequently not all the piano or concert-music is good for the organ, in Church services.
As far as here, the above rules concern only low Mass, when there is no singing at all. Now let us see what the organist (or choirmaster) has to know and to do at the low Mass, when there is singing.
(To be continued.)
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Footnotes:
* This can be done "in omnibus Dominicis et omnibus festis per annum occurrentibus, in quibus populi a servilibus operibus abstinere solent. Inter eas non connumeratur Dominicae Adventus et Quadragesimae except a Dominica tertia Adventus quae dicitur Gaudete in Domino et quarta Quadragesimae, quae dicitur Laetare, Jerusalem, et nisi celebratur pro Defunctis" (Caerem. Episc. XXVIII. 1-2).
Source: Giuseppe Villani, "'How, When and What to Play': A Guide for Catholic Organists," The Caecilia 60, no. 11 (Dec. 1934): 543–544.
Monday, November 11, 2019
The Necessary Subordination of Educational Theories to Sound Sociology (1922)
[385] Is man a sociable, or a social being? Perhaps there are professed sociologists to whom the question has never occurred. The terms seem almost identical. Nevertheless the ideas behind them differ with all the difference that lies between Rousseau's fable of man everywhere in chains, and the reality of man free in his necessary social relations; that distinguishes the figment of the social contract from society, the spontaneous outcome of human nature; that divides the artificial State created by the Revolution from the State developing naturally under Christian influences; that marks off the State using the individual as its tool from the State serving the individual's perfection. To say that man is sociable is to say that essentially he is indifferent to the solitary life or the social; that if he chooses the latter he docs so merely for its advantages to buy which he pays, as price, some of his individual rights. In a word, it is to affirm the social contract with all its consequences as seen in the modern State. On the other hand to say that man is social is to say that his very nature demands life in society; that society began simultaneously with the race; that it is morally impossible for men to live permanently in the same place unassociated; that the savage state with its pretended individual rights never existed; that the social contract is a myth, invented to promote the Revolution and continued because it falls in so neatly with that other baseless invention, evolution. United they give the modern theory of the State, with every logical conclusion deduced from it.
Let us see one very important conclusion. Were man merely sociable and actual social union a free contract, the individual could have no natural antecedent rights against society, nor [386] society any necessary natural obligation towards the individual. Every subsequent social right or obligation would arise from the contract and be confined to its stipulations. The price once paid in individual rights would have no further exchangeable value. Ameliorations never dreamed of at the making of the contract would have to be paid for with new surrenders, in exacting which society would be found a creditor hard as flint. Describing the day of mourning over Jerusalem, purchased yearly by the Jews from their Roman conquerors, St. Jerome tells us how, notwithstanding the great price already received and the sight of cheeks wet with tears that might well have moved to pity, the callous soldiery compelled the mourners begging a little more time for sorrow, to open their purses afresh and pay the price of further weeping. A society pretending to originate in a social contract would refuse to its members the freedom granted to the conquered. These were free to protract their weeping or not. Only when they resolved to renew their tears had they to pay the price. A society according to Rousseau's theory would impose its dubious benefits on the very individuals Rousseau is supposed to have freed, and then compel them to pay for the imposition.
On the other hand, to say that man is social is to say that society is so necessary that without it the normal life in the exercise of his natural faculties would be impossible. It is to assert his antecedent right to all that society can give him. It is to say that society is naturally no loose association of individuals, the artificial result of a voluntary contract, but a closely compacted organization of subordinate, incomplete societies, the result of man's constant need of cooperation, of his constant impulse towards association with his fellows, into one complete, supreme society, the State. Let us illustrate. In a society, even the most primitive, A would need the cooperation of B for clothing, of C for food, of D for any journey he might make, of E and F for shelter. In the same way B, C, D, E, F, would need cooperation reaching out to G, H, I, J, etc. Here we discern the rudiments of organization. In its development A and B could no longer between them provide material and make it up into clothes, such as the more perfect social life requires. [387] Hence would arise the various trades, and in the same way the various professions, with the same natural tendency in each association drawing the members into union for cooperation and mutual support. So in fact each became an inchoate society developing with the community in which it originated; and as villages became cities and their inhabitants citizens, these found themselves in their new life, not mere individuals, but members of their pre-existing associations, which thus became the elements immediately constituting the larger unit, as this was the immediate element of the supreme society. Nowhere did the individual stand alone. Everywhere he had his fellows with the immediate social superior to be the guardian of his liberty, his protection against wrong.
Of this society so perfect in its unity, so complex in its organization, the modern evolutionary sociologist knows little or nothing. It was never found but under the shadow of the cross in that Christian civilization which religion effected in the barbarian conquerors of Europe, and was found in its perfection only in the ages of faith. Why this was so we cannot examine here. Suffice it to note that, as the loosely organized despotism, characteristic of idolatry and Mohammedanism, with its tyrant, lord of all, and its incoherent multitude at his absolute disposal, was the reproduction on earth of the kingdom of Satan, the typical tyrant defying all order, trampling on every right; so in the compact, highly organized Christian society was seen the analogue of that abode of perfect order arising from the perfect blending of mutual rights and duties through the long, closely linked order of superior and inferior, of which the crown is Christ the King, the perfect custodian and vindicator of obligation and right.
But in the revolutionary State, whether it be empire, kingdom, republic, or social anarchy, the form is immaterial, is always found the approximation to the old barbarous despotism, the disintegration of the Christian State. There is no medium between the two. The prevalence of the former implies the the destruction of the latter. According to the revolutionary theory, man, freed from his chains, stands in a regenerated society an individual of the sovereign people, with neither patron, [388] nor lord, nor social class to mar his dignity, or to come between him and his servant delegated to public authority. How different the actual fact! Stripped of the protection and support of his fellows, powerless to withstand the force working remorselessly to make him a simple unit expendable by the State functioning towards its revolutionary ideal, man would stand alone were he not saved from utter solitariness by the inextinguishable workings of his social nature impelling him to reach out to every helping hand that offers. Such, despite its intensely monarchical exterior, was the Prussian system, bureaucratic and impersonal to the last degree. Such was never the system of the United States. Resting on the inalienable rights of man our Constitution makes the humblest citizen's personal liberty its characteristic note.
There is no essential reason why the colonies going out from the old nations after the sixteenth century should not have carried with them this natural society. It is indifferent to every form of government; it is adaptable to all. In England it was one kind of monarchy; in France, another. It had a special organization in the Holy Roman Empire. We find it democratic in Florence and other Italian cities, while in Venice it was oligarchic. It could be feudal in Teutonic lands; in others founded on commerce. It could have lived on American soil; nay more, no diligence will reveal, nor ingenuity invent a system more conducive to the American ideal, personal liberty under just government. That it did not cross the seas was accidental, due to this, that before general emigration from Europe had begun, the corruption of the Renaissance, the inflowing of gold from the Indies, the Protestant Reformation had sapped the foundations of the old order. Still, that it is the perfect natural order is clear from the instinct leading men inevitably to supply for the old natural subordinate societies, with artificial associations for mutual support and defense.
We may now put some conclusions which shall be the principles of our specific argument.
I. Since the permanence of a composite body depends on the permanence of its elements both in themselves and in their natural relations; and since society must by nature be as lasting [389] as possible, every supreme society demands the permanence of its subordinate societies, its constituent elements.
II. This permanence of the subordinate society implies necessarily stability in its members. Hence the stability of social man in his social surroundings, in other words, a permanent diversity of individuals in their respective social orders, is a necessary consequence of man's social nature.
III. From this it follows as regards each social order, that its members, if taken distributively, may each rise to a higher station; taken collectively they will, as a rule remain in that in which they are born.
These are natural principles, depending on no particular form of society. Rather society is peaceful and stable, or confused and mutable, according as they are allowed or refused their efficacy. They are therefore especially applicable in the matter of education, so potent to correct false sociology or to diffuse it. Wherefore we conclude justly that a system of universal education which ignores the natural distinctions in social order is a capital error. To attempt a system that will suit everybody, whatever his station in life, is to offer what will suit none. To say that the democratic ideal demands such a system, is to betray an imperfect concept of that ideal. It is easy to say that it requires perfect equality among citizens and no privilege: to define the meaning of this exactly is more difficult. The most authoritative expression of the democratic ideal, the Declaration of Independence, founds it on the primitive fact that all men are created free and equal, with inalienable rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The word created implies an essential equality in natural rights, not only not precluding acquired rights with the consequent accidental inequality of their subjects, but actually supporting them as their very foundation. Man is created a social being. Wherefore all find themselves equally members of society, with an equal right to be free from all hindrance in the perfecting of themselves as social individuals. For this a necessary means, inasmuch as they are social, is the procuring of the common good under the direction of competent authority. As long as life lasts that equality and freedom remains. The respecting of them in others is no small share of [390] each individual's action for the common good. Let none say that self-perfection and common action for the common good, are mutually repugnant, calling for accommodation based on mutual sacrifice. This notion, utterly false, is one of the immediate conclusions of the social contract, and one of its most noxious. Grasp the fundamental truth that man is by nature a social being, and you will see inevitably that he cannot perfect himself individually without perfecting himself in social action. To perfect oneself, to combine with others for the common good, in this to obey authority, are not repugnant but concordant. They work together; and in their perfect coordination is the perfection of social freedom, the only liberty of a being essentially social. Each member of society exists in his individual character and faculties with his essential right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Each as a social being recognizes and respects what others accomplish in virtue of their individual gifts of character and faculty. In these two is evident the foundation of consequent inequalities. These are so natural that when the revolution destroys legitimate society with its natural social distinctions, enduring because founded in right, it immediately sets up in its lawless society artificial distinctions, precarious because without title, to be maintained by violence.
But there is the cry: "No privilege." What is privilege? It is an exemption of an individual from common order and obligation. Now nothing is clearer than that by no acquisition of private and personal rights can a social being generate a title against common order and obligation. This can come from the ordainer only of that common order, namely, public authority. On the other hand, that the duties and relations of citizens should follow the nature of things and conform to actual social conditions, calls for neither exemption nor concession, nor even formal recognition. It is then utterly foreign to the true notion of privilege.
It may be asked, whether a universal system in the primary and grammar grades be impossible. I would not say impossible. Reading, writing, arithmetic, are necessary for everyone, whatever his social condition be. But I will say that under existing conditions it can be proved impracticable. As we shall see in [391] the course of this paper, those grades, being the preparation of the higher, are infected with the errors prevailing in these. However, as this is but indirect, there is every reason to believe that the correction of methods in the high school would eliminate the errors in the grades below. Let us then begin with something born of a double error, of a wrong idea of what complete education is, and of the obligation of the State to provide it, namely, vocational training. For this I can find no other foundation than the assumption that a complete educational system must provide every pupil with the opportunity of rising above his native condition, with the consequence that the State must discharge the obligation. This is in flat contradiction to the natural principle we have established, that mankind taken collectively tends to remain in the station to which it is born, and that those who rise are the exceptions. These through their talent and character will ascend, and in this they must be helped. But from vocational training, with all it implies of a deficient foundation, they will gain little. Indeed that training if examined carefully, will be found to be an occasion of sinking rather than of rising. To make the son of a skillful mechanic or of a thrifty farmer, a barely competent engineer, a mediocre journalist, a lawyer rarely briefed, or a doctor with scanty practice, is not social progress. On the other hand, if he is to remain in his native condition, he will learn his trade at home far better than in any school. The vocational school, then, commits the capital error of basing its work on the needs of the few, which it treats as if they were those of the many.
We said that vocational schools imply deficient fundamental training. The lower grades, which through exaggerated notions of the importance of observation and classification, have become less intellectual in their work, are now hampered with the practical. Pupils are encouraged by their surroundings and their prospects to make little of things purely mental, and to resist attempts to retain them within the strict circle of the grammar school. Thus, while all recognize the gravest national peril in the widespread tendency to abandon the land and other callings, laborious indeed, but neither unprofitable nor dishonorable, for what, in so many cases turns out to be some petty employment; [392] and while many a plan is proposed to mitigate it; the schools, resting on a false social theory and an idea no less false of democratic equality, ignoring also the laws of man's social nature, encourage it. We do not look for the stoppage of the movement from the farm and the trade to the desk. Our social, commercial, economic conditions would make that hope vain. But to moderate it is possible; and the moderating of it is a function of education. What then, is to be thought of a system encouraging the evil, almost forcing it upon our young people?
Let us pass from the schools to find ourselves in the university. On all sides magnificent buildings, commodious lecture halls, ample libraries and museums, with a host of professors and instructors, all at the public expense. Young people are there by the thousand. It is the climax of the false conclusion that, as every boy and girl taken distributively, has the right to rise above his or her native condition, the opportunity of doing so must be provided for all collectively. Hence to all the State offers a university education so complex and complete that from its courses may be had the proximate preparation for any career. Now if there be anything confined by its nature to a class and to a very small class at that, it is a university education. And here let me digress to meet a prejudice that may be growing in your minds. When I say a class, I do not mean the aristocracy, as found elsewhere. So far am I from this that I hold as a calamity the way we have fallen into, of looking to the English universities as models. To this is due much of the excessive sport that has made its way into our universities to the detriment of study, first into the private foundations, as Harvard and Yale, and then into the public institutions. It is bad enough to have young people using the university as a place of social enjoyment and physical prowess, when they do so at their own cost; it is infinitely worse when they thus divert from its legitimate end an institution furnished for them so lavishly at the public expense. But to resume, the function of a university is to provide general culture and special science for those who, engaging in their particular vocations, will promote the amelioration, progress and perfection of society. Such, for many reasons, must be relatively few. Now only are few capable of the task, but from the social [393] point of view few are needed for it. It is of the essence of leadership that the leaders cannot be many. The university, then, is not a place of resort for young people, unequal to such an education, to idle away in crowds a great part of their adolescence, during which they should he gaining in the school of experience habits of industry and thrift; to live at the expense of others, when, according to every natural social law they should be supporting themselves; and in the end to get a degree representing the minimum result of their long course in school and college paid for by the people. The thought of becoming something better than their fathers pushes boys and girls from the high school into the university unfit for university work. Over the ideals of professors mere numbers must prevail, and standards are lowered. The complaint is universal. Standardization, more spending of public money, additional qualifications in teachers of high school and grammar grades, degrees of various kinds in those of the undergraduate departments of colleges and universities, these, and other remedies are proposed. But there is no remedy for an evil that comes from the violation of the essential laws of man's social nature, other than a return to the observance of those laws.
The demand beginning to be heard from the universities for a restriction in the number of students, the acknowledgment now from one now from another, that as a teaching agent the small college has an efficiency all its own, are signs that some are beginning to comprehend in general the real cause of their trouble. But as long as the present theory lasts, and as long as the climax of the system built on it is found in the university, this cannot close its doors to high school graduates, the product of the system, however numerous and however imperfectly grounded. Efficacious reform must begin with the recognition of the utter falseness of the prevailing theory; must be continued by laying a safe foundation in the understanding of the nature of social man and of its necessary consequences in the development of all society; must be perfected by adapting all education to those necessary consequences.
For what is the end of education? We have shown from man's social nature that it is not to lift up our children in the [394] social scale, nor even to offer them collectively the opportunity of rising. It must be therefore to prepare them to discharge, as they should, the duties of the station to which they are born. The fleeing from this is for the multitude, as they learn too late, a fleeing to graver cares, to the losing of opportunity instead of to the gaining of it on a larger scale, and to disappointed hopes; while for the State it is the cause of serious disorder coming from the universal habit it generates of discontent and unrest. Our social infirmities are only too apparent: among the remedies devised is one much insisted on: — Education for citizenship. If this be taken, as seems to be the case, in the sense that pupils must leave the school with definite views on social reforms, that is, as a rule, with the personal ideas of a very fallible master, or those of the organization for social uplift prevailing in their part of the country, and a strong sense of the share they should take in putting such reform into execution, the dullest must see that this is nothing else than to put schools as instruments of propaganda into the hands of the huge organizations which daily usurp more and more the functions of government, dictating to executives, legislatures, judges, juries, the course to follow.
More than one case can be shown of action in obedience to this lawless moral forced which those charged with authority, had they been free, would have rejected as unprofitable and even unjust; and in the Convention of the Bar Association of the United States two years ago, this was dwelt upon as one of the gravest dangers threatening the nation. Such education for citizenship would be nothing else than vocational training assuming a most dangerous form. The only other is that which fits the individual morally and intellectually, to live honorably, industriously, soberly where his lot is cast; doing justice himself, and in common with his fellows, exacting it from others; paying authority rightful obedience, and requiring from it the protection which is his due. In a word, it is to give that moral and mental training which our Christian schools have given in the past, are giving now, and will always give, if they follow faithfully their own system, not a theory, but fundamental truth by long experience reduced to practice.
[395] Leaving aside the moral training, as not immediately connected with our present argument, we say that education taken in its perfect term has for its object, scholarship; and this we take, not in the contracted sense it has acquired in these days of specialization, but for what it really is, a broad and exact culture. Now if this be so, — and it must be so, if education is not to be strictly vocational, but rather a broad foundation on which all callings in life can rest, each in its proper place — no more telling proof of the incompetence of the present system can be brought than the steady decline of scholarship in the higher education, as of exactness and thoroughness in the secondary and primary, during the latter years of the nineteenth century and these early years of the twentieth. There has been no stinting of money. It has been lavished on universities, colleges and schools. Yet as endowments and expenditure grew what was looked for from them decreased. "The Americans are bright men," was the testimony to the Rhodes scholars of a delegation from Oxford to visit American universities, "they have no little information, but thoroughness and exactness are lacking." That scholarship is failing we must confess, if we are able to understand that the seats vacated by the scholars of the earlier nineteenth century remain unfilled. How much scholarship means, we can judge from our loss. A leading member of the Bar Association of the United States, discussing existing political and constitutional conditions, pointed out that the Bench and Bar of earlier days were noteworthy for men, not only lawyers, but also statesmen, and did not hesitate to assert that in the present crisis, for we are really at a crisis of the Constitution, there is an absolute need of such men to save it. According to the ordinary law such men are the fruit of scholarship. Though of our statesmen, jurists, administrators, some were heaven-born, nevertheless even in these how much do we find of scholarship indirectly acquired, how little did they owe to mere technical training. Take but one example in but one man, the Gettysburg address of Abraham Lincoln. Direct scholarship he had none. Still there is a something about those two hundred words or so which all must perceive and the initiated can recognize as the skill of expression and exactness in word that only scholarship can give, in him the result of a [396] careful study the technically trained would view as purposeless, that of the writings, simply as writings, of those who had enjoyed what to him was denied, the liberal education of the scholar.
Though this culture in its fullness is the special work of the university, its foundation and no little of its development belongs to the purely educational secondary school, that aims at an adequate general discipline of the mind, without any further design than to send out young people, each with a training perfect in its degree, that fits them, as did their liberal culture the Athenians of Pericles' day, to enter into commerce or service, civil or military, or to continue in the university their preparation for the professions, or to make it their life career, with an easy versatility and perfect self-possession, the sign of one without fear of finding himself unequal to his undertaking.
Such schools imply as a necessary consequence others widely different for those to whom opportunity opens not the higher culture or whom inclination or natural gifts do not draw to it. In other words, they imply a system of education fitting in with the conditions arising from man's social nature, rather than one that, as far as possible, would abolish them. Sometimes indeed circumstances compel a material union of schools. From the Irish hedge-school and the Scottish village school have come scholars we should seek in vain from the American school to-day. But it was because the master, himself not without scholarship, seeing in this one or in that possibilities of greater things, gave him ungrudgingly a training other than that received by his less capable companions, a training in the old time-honored curriculum, Latin, Greek, Euclid, algebra; not one of them, the last excepted to a certain degree, of practical value in the eyes of the modern teacher, yet all combining wonderfully to effect what Cicero calls the subactio of the mind; that laborious deep ploughing which, if it be not culture itself, is in the intellect, as in the field, a condition without which there will be no real fruit of culture. But when the larger scale is reached, what the master did of his own initiative, must be done by system.
The answer is heard, of course, that the State considers the universal good, and cannot descend to minute particulars. But this cannot mean that therefore it has the right to impose a system [397] unnatural and therefore harmful to the universal good. Rather is it a confession that education is too complex an affair to be a function of the general government, and must be left to those whom nature designates as its own agents to bring it to successful issue. Thus what has been demonstrated again and again from parental and religious right, is proved anew from the very nature of man.
All this confirms me in the advice I gave last year. Be accommodating in non-essentials. Conciliate the authorities in boards and universities. But hold fast to our traditional methods founded on truth and exemplifying all I have said far better than I can say it. I see two rays of hope promising a better day. One is that the national intelligence is beginning to be conscious of the inroads upon the Constitution already made by bureaucratic methods, and measures imposed lawlessly by certain associations upon Congress and State legislatures. The other is, that a system which contradicts human nature cannot stand. Only an hour ago I read a complaint from a leader in the world of State education that only a comparatively small percentage of those of student age avail themselves of the opportunities offered them. It may be that Americans will prefer bureaucratic tyranny to constitutional liberty, and consent to have forced upon them what nature abhors. If so, then your career is ended. But you and I think better of American people. Lastly your position in the matter is much better than that of the colleges for men. You have a net-work [sic] of academies and parish schools all over the country that must give pause to any attack. The colleges stand isolated and alone. Their pupils could be taken up into existing institutions: yours would need new institutions to be provided. This is your safeguard and it is a real one.
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Source: Fr. Henry Woods, S.J., "The Necessary Subordination of Educational Theories to Sound Sociology," The Catholic Educational Association Bulletin 19, no. 1 (Nov. 1922): 385–397.
Let us see one very important conclusion. Were man merely sociable and actual social union a free contract, the individual could have no natural antecedent rights against society, nor [386] society any necessary natural obligation towards the individual. Every subsequent social right or obligation would arise from the contract and be confined to its stipulations. The price once paid in individual rights would have no further exchangeable value. Ameliorations never dreamed of at the making of the contract would have to be paid for with new surrenders, in exacting which society would be found a creditor hard as flint. Describing the day of mourning over Jerusalem, purchased yearly by the Jews from their Roman conquerors, St. Jerome tells us how, notwithstanding the great price already received and the sight of cheeks wet with tears that might well have moved to pity, the callous soldiery compelled the mourners begging a little more time for sorrow, to open their purses afresh and pay the price of further weeping. A society pretending to originate in a social contract would refuse to its members the freedom granted to the conquered. These were free to protract their weeping or not. Only when they resolved to renew their tears had they to pay the price. A society according to Rousseau's theory would impose its dubious benefits on the very individuals Rousseau is supposed to have freed, and then compel them to pay for the imposition.
On the other hand, to say that man is social is to say that society is so necessary that without it the normal life in the exercise of his natural faculties would be impossible. It is to assert his antecedent right to all that society can give him. It is to say that society is naturally no loose association of individuals, the artificial result of a voluntary contract, but a closely compacted organization of subordinate, incomplete societies, the result of man's constant need of cooperation, of his constant impulse towards association with his fellows, into one complete, supreme society, the State. Let us illustrate. In a society, even the most primitive, A would need the cooperation of B for clothing, of C for food, of D for any journey he might make, of E and F for shelter. In the same way B, C, D, E, F, would need cooperation reaching out to G, H, I, J, etc. Here we discern the rudiments of organization. In its development A and B could no longer between them provide material and make it up into clothes, such as the more perfect social life requires. [387] Hence would arise the various trades, and in the same way the various professions, with the same natural tendency in each association drawing the members into union for cooperation and mutual support. So in fact each became an inchoate society developing with the community in which it originated; and as villages became cities and their inhabitants citizens, these found themselves in their new life, not mere individuals, but members of their pre-existing associations, which thus became the elements immediately constituting the larger unit, as this was the immediate element of the supreme society. Nowhere did the individual stand alone. Everywhere he had his fellows with the immediate social superior to be the guardian of his liberty, his protection against wrong.
Of this society so perfect in its unity, so complex in its organization, the modern evolutionary sociologist knows little or nothing. It was never found but under the shadow of the cross in that Christian civilization which religion effected in the barbarian conquerors of Europe, and was found in its perfection only in the ages of faith. Why this was so we cannot examine here. Suffice it to note that, as the loosely organized despotism, characteristic of idolatry and Mohammedanism, with its tyrant, lord of all, and its incoherent multitude at his absolute disposal, was the reproduction on earth of the kingdom of Satan, the typical tyrant defying all order, trampling on every right; so in the compact, highly organized Christian society was seen the analogue of that abode of perfect order arising from the perfect blending of mutual rights and duties through the long, closely linked order of superior and inferior, of which the crown is Christ the King, the perfect custodian and vindicator of obligation and right.
But in the revolutionary State, whether it be empire, kingdom, republic, or social anarchy, the form is immaterial, is always found the approximation to the old barbarous despotism, the disintegration of the Christian State. There is no medium between the two. The prevalence of the former implies the the destruction of the latter. According to the revolutionary theory, man, freed from his chains, stands in a regenerated society an individual of the sovereign people, with neither patron, [388] nor lord, nor social class to mar his dignity, or to come between him and his servant delegated to public authority. How different the actual fact! Stripped of the protection and support of his fellows, powerless to withstand the force working remorselessly to make him a simple unit expendable by the State functioning towards its revolutionary ideal, man would stand alone were he not saved from utter solitariness by the inextinguishable workings of his social nature impelling him to reach out to every helping hand that offers. Such, despite its intensely monarchical exterior, was the Prussian system, bureaucratic and impersonal to the last degree. Such was never the system of the United States. Resting on the inalienable rights of man our Constitution makes the humblest citizen's personal liberty its characteristic note.
There is no essential reason why the colonies going out from the old nations after the sixteenth century should not have carried with them this natural society. It is indifferent to every form of government; it is adaptable to all. In England it was one kind of monarchy; in France, another. It had a special organization in the Holy Roman Empire. We find it democratic in Florence and other Italian cities, while in Venice it was oligarchic. It could be feudal in Teutonic lands; in others founded on commerce. It could have lived on American soil; nay more, no diligence will reveal, nor ingenuity invent a system more conducive to the American ideal, personal liberty under just government. That it did not cross the seas was accidental, due to this, that before general emigration from Europe had begun, the corruption of the Renaissance, the inflowing of gold from the Indies, the Protestant Reformation had sapped the foundations of the old order. Still, that it is the perfect natural order is clear from the instinct leading men inevitably to supply for the old natural subordinate societies, with artificial associations for mutual support and defense.
We may now put some conclusions which shall be the principles of our specific argument.
I. Since the permanence of a composite body depends on the permanence of its elements both in themselves and in their natural relations; and since society must by nature be as lasting [389] as possible, every supreme society demands the permanence of its subordinate societies, its constituent elements.
II. This permanence of the subordinate society implies necessarily stability in its members. Hence the stability of social man in his social surroundings, in other words, a permanent diversity of individuals in their respective social orders, is a necessary consequence of man's social nature.
III. From this it follows as regards each social order, that its members, if taken distributively, may each rise to a higher station; taken collectively they will, as a rule remain in that in which they are born.
These are natural principles, depending on no particular form of society. Rather society is peaceful and stable, or confused and mutable, according as they are allowed or refused their efficacy. They are therefore especially applicable in the matter of education, so potent to correct false sociology or to diffuse it. Wherefore we conclude justly that a system of universal education which ignores the natural distinctions in social order is a capital error. To attempt a system that will suit everybody, whatever his station in life, is to offer what will suit none. To say that the democratic ideal demands such a system, is to betray an imperfect concept of that ideal. It is easy to say that it requires perfect equality among citizens and no privilege: to define the meaning of this exactly is more difficult. The most authoritative expression of the democratic ideal, the Declaration of Independence, founds it on the primitive fact that all men are created free and equal, with inalienable rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The word created implies an essential equality in natural rights, not only not precluding acquired rights with the consequent accidental inequality of their subjects, but actually supporting them as their very foundation. Man is created a social being. Wherefore all find themselves equally members of society, with an equal right to be free from all hindrance in the perfecting of themselves as social individuals. For this a necessary means, inasmuch as they are social, is the procuring of the common good under the direction of competent authority. As long as life lasts that equality and freedom remains. The respecting of them in others is no small share of [390] each individual's action for the common good. Let none say that self-perfection and common action for the common good, are mutually repugnant, calling for accommodation based on mutual sacrifice. This notion, utterly false, is one of the immediate conclusions of the social contract, and one of its most noxious. Grasp the fundamental truth that man is by nature a social being, and you will see inevitably that he cannot perfect himself individually without perfecting himself in social action. To perfect oneself, to combine with others for the common good, in this to obey authority, are not repugnant but concordant. They work together; and in their perfect coordination is the perfection of social freedom, the only liberty of a being essentially social. Each member of society exists in his individual character and faculties with his essential right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Each as a social being recognizes and respects what others accomplish in virtue of their individual gifts of character and faculty. In these two is evident the foundation of consequent inequalities. These are so natural that when the revolution destroys legitimate society with its natural social distinctions, enduring because founded in right, it immediately sets up in its lawless society artificial distinctions, precarious because without title, to be maintained by violence.
But there is the cry: "No privilege." What is privilege? It is an exemption of an individual from common order and obligation. Now nothing is clearer than that by no acquisition of private and personal rights can a social being generate a title against common order and obligation. This can come from the ordainer only of that common order, namely, public authority. On the other hand, that the duties and relations of citizens should follow the nature of things and conform to actual social conditions, calls for neither exemption nor concession, nor even formal recognition. It is then utterly foreign to the true notion of privilege.
It may be asked, whether a universal system in the primary and grammar grades be impossible. I would not say impossible. Reading, writing, arithmetic, are necessary for everyone, whatever his social condition be. But I will say that under existing conditions it can be proved impracticable. As we shall see in [391] the course of this paper, those grades, being the preparation of the higher, are infected with the errors prevailing in these. However, as this is but indirect, there is every reason to believe that the correction of methods in the high school would eliminate the errors in the grades below. Let us then begin with something born of a double error, of a wrong idea of what complete education is, and of the obligation of the State to provide it, namely, vocational training. For this I can find no other foundation than the assumption that a complete educational system must provide every pupil with the opportunity of rising above his native condition, with the consequence that the State must discharge the obligation. This is in flat contradiction to the natural principle we have established, that mankind taken collectively tends to remain in the station to which it is born, and that those who rise are the exceptions. These through their talent and character will ascend, and in this they must be helped. But from vocational training, with all it implies of a deficient foundation, they will gain little. Indeed that training if examined carefully, will be found to be an occasion of sinking rather than of rising. To make the son of a skillful mechanic or of a thrifty farmer, a barely competent engineer, a mediocre journalist, a lawyer rarely briefed, or a doctor with scanty practice, is not social progress. On the other hand, if he is to remain in his native condition, he will learn his trade at home far better than in any school. The vocational school, then, commits the capital error of basing its work on the needs of the few, which it treats as if they were those of the many.
We said that vocational schools imply deficient fundamental training. The lower grades, which through exaggerated notions of the importance of observation and classification, have become less intellectual in their work, are now hampered with the practical. Pupils are encouraged by their surroundings and their prospects to make little of things purely mental, and to resist attempts to retain them within the strict circle of the grammar school. Thus, while all recognize the gravest national peril in the widespread tendency to abandon the land and other callings, laborious indeed, but neither unprofitable nor dishonorable, for what, in so many cases turns out to be some petty employment; [392] and while many a plan is proposed to mitigate it; the schools, resting on a false social theory and an idea no less false of democratic equality, ignoring also the laws of man's social nature, encourage it. We do not look for the stoppage of the movement from the farm and the trade to the desk. Our social, commercial, economic conditions would make that hope vain. But to moderate it is possible; and the moderating of it is a function of education. What then, is to be thought of a system encouraging the evil, almost forcing it upon our young people?
Let us pass from the schools to find ourselves in the university. On all sides magnificent buildings, commodious lecture halls, ample libraries and museums, with a host of professors and instructors, all at the public expense. Young people are there by the thousand. It is the climax of the false conclusion that, as every boy and girl taken distributively, has the right to rise above his or her native condition, the opportunity of doing so must be provided for all collectively. Hence to all the State offers a university education so complex and complete that from its courses may be had the proximate preparation for any career. Now if there be anything confined by its nature to a class and to a very small class at that, it is a university education. And here let me digress to meet a prejudice that may be growing in your minds. When I say a class, I do not mean the aristocracy, as found elsewhere. So far am I from this that I hold as a calamity the way we have fallen into, of looking to the English universities as models. To this is due much of the excessive sport that has made its way into our universities to the detriment of study, first into the private foundations, as Harvard and Yale, and then into the public institutions. It is bad enough to have young people using the university as a place of social enjoyment and physical prowess, when they do so at their own cost; it is infinitely worse when they thus divert from its legitimate end an institution furnished for them so lavishly at the public expense. But to resume, the function of a university is to provide general culture and special science for those who, engaging in their particular vocations, will promote the amelioration, progress and perfection of society. Such, for many reasons, must be relatively few. Now only are few capable of the task, but from the social [393] point of view few are needed for it. It is of the essence of leadership that the leaders cannot be many. The university, then, is not a place of resort for young people, unequal to such an education, to idle away in crowds a great part of their adolescence, during which they should he gaining in the school of experience habits of industry and thrift; to live at the expense of others, when, according to every natural social law they should be supporting themselves; and in the end to get a degree representing the minimum result of their long course in school and college paid for by the people. The thought of becoming something better than their fathers pushes boys and girls from the high school into the university unfit for university work. Over the ideals of professors mere numbers must prevail, and standards are lowered. The complaint is universal. Standardization, more spending of public money, additional qualifications in teachers of high school and grammar grades, degrees of various kinds in those of the undergraduate departments of colleges and universities, these, and other remedies are proposed. But there is no remedy for an evil that comes from the violation of the essential laws of man's social nature, other than a return to the observance of those laws.
The demand beginning to be heard from the universities for a restriction in the number of students, the acknowledgment now from one now from another, that as a teaching agent the small college has an efficiency all its own, are signs that some are beginning to comprehend in general the real cause of their trouble. But as long as the present theory lasts, and as long as the climax of the system built on it is found in the university, this cannot close its doors to high school graduates, the product of the system, however numerous and however imperfectly grounded. Efficacious reform must begin with the recognition of the utter falseness of the prevailing theory; must be continued by laying a safe foundation in the understanding of the nature of social man and of its necessary consequences in the development of all society; must be perfected by adapting all education to those necessary consequences.
For what is the end of education? We have shown from man's social nature that it is not to lift up our children in the [394] social scale, nor even to offer them collectively the opportunity of rising. It must be therefore to prepare them to discharge, as they should, the duties of the station to which they are born. The fleeing from this is for the multitude, as they learn too late, a fleeing to graver cares, to the losing of opportunity instead of to the gaining of it on a larger scale, and to disappointed hopes; while for the State it is the cause of serious disorder coming from the universal habit it generates of discontent and unrest. Our social infirmities are only too apparent: among the remedies devised is one much insisted on: — Education for citizenship. If this be taken, as seems to be the case, in the sense that pupils must leave the school with definite views on social reforms, that is, as a rule, with the personal ideas of a very fallible master, or those of the organization for social uplift prevailing in their part of the country, and a strong sense of the share they should take in putting such reform into execution, the dullest must see that this is nothing else than to put schools as instruments of propaganda into the hands of the huge organizations which daily usurp more and more the functions of government, dictating to executives, legislatures, judges, juries, the course to follow.
More than one case can be shown of action in obedience to this lawless moral forced which those charged with authority, had they been free, would have rejected as unprofitable and even unjust; and in the Convention of the Bar Association of the United States two years ago, this was dwelt upon as one of the gravest dangers threatening the nation. Such education for citizenship would be nothing else than vocational training assuming a most dangerous form. The only other is that which fits the individual morally and intellectually, to live honorably, industriously, soberly where his lot is cast; doing justice himself, and in common with his fellows, exacting it from others; paying authority rightful obedience, and requiring from it the protection which is his due. In a word, it is to give that moral and mental training which our Christian schools have given in the past, are giving now, and will always give, if they follow faithfully their own system, not a theory, but fundamental truth by long experience reduced to practice.
[395] Leaving aside the moral training, as not immediately connected with our present argument, we say that education taken in its perfect term has for its object, scholarship; and this we take, not in the contracted sense it has acquired in these days of specialization, but for what it really is, a broad and exact culture. Now if this be so, — and it must be so, if education is not to be strictly vocational, but rather a broad foundation on which all callings in life can rest, each in its proper place — no more telling proof of the incompetence of the present system can be brought than the steady decline of scholarship in the higher education, as of exactness and thoroughness in the secondary and primary, during the latter years of the nineteenth century and these early years of the twentieth. There has been no stinting of money. It has been lavished on universities, colleges and schools. Yet as endowments and expenditure grew what was looked for from them decreased. "The Americans are bright men," was the testimony to the Rhodes scholars of a delegation from Oxford to visit American universities, "they have no little information, but thoroughness and exactness are lacking." That scholarship is failing we must confess, if we are able to understand that the seats vacated by the scholars of the earlier nineteenth century remain unfilled. How much scholarship means, we can judge from our loss. A leading member of the Bar Association of the United States, discussing existing political and constitutional conditions, pointed out that the Bench and Bar of earlier days were noteworthy for men, not only lawyers, but also statesmen, and did not hesitate to assert that in the present crisis, for we are really at a crisis of the Constitution, there is an absolute need of such men to save it. According to the ordinary law such men are the fruit of scholarship. Though of our statesmen, jurists, administrators, some were heaven-born, nevertheless even in these how much do we find of scholarship indirectly acquired, how little did they owe to mere technical training. Take but one example in but one man, the Gettysburg address of Abraham Lincoln. Direct scholarship he had none. Still there is a something about those two hundred words or so which all must perceive and the initiated can recognize as the skill of expression and exactness in word that only scholarship can give, in him the result of a [396] careful study the technically trained would view as purposeless, that of the writings, simply as writings, of those who had enjoyed what to him was denied, the liberal education of the scholar.
Though this culture in its fullness is the special work of the university, its foundation and no little of its development belongs to the purely educational secondary school, that aims at an adequate general discipline of the mind, without any further design than to send out young people, each with a training perfect in its degree, that fits them, as did their liberal culture the Athenians of Pericles' day, to enter into commerce or service, civil or military, or to continue in the university their preparation for the professions, or to make it their life career, with an easy versatility and perfect self-possession, the sign of one without fear of finding himself unequal to his undertaking.
Such schools imply as a necessary consequence others widely different for those to whom opportunity opens not the higher culture or whom inclination or natural gifts do not draw to it. In other words, they imply a system of education fitting in with the conditions arising from man's social nature, rather than one that, as far as possible, would abolish them. Sometimes indeed circumstances compel a material union of schools. From the Irish hedge-school and the Scottish village school have come scholars we should seek in vain from the American school to-day. But it was because the master, himself not without scholarship, seeing in this one or in that possibilities of greater things, gave him ungrudgingly a training other than that received by his less capable companions, a training in the old time-honored curriculum, Latin, Greek, Euclid, algebra; not one of them, the last excepted to a certain degree, of practical value in the eyes of the modern teacher, yet all combining wonderfully to effect what Cicero calls the subactio of the mind; that laborious deep ploughing which, if it be not culture itself, is in the intellect, as in the field, a condition without which there will be no real fruit of culture. But when the larger scale is reached, what the master did of his own initiative, must be done by system.
The answer is heard, of course, that the State considers the universal good, and cannot descend to minute particulars. But this cannot mean that therefore it has the right to impose a system [397] unnatural and therefore harmful to the universal good. Rather is it a confession that education is too complex an affair to be a function of the general government, and must be left to those whom nature designates as its own agents to bring it to successful issue. Thus what has been demonstrated again and again from parental and religious right, is proved anew from the very nature of man.
All this confirms me in the advice I gave last year. Be accommodating in non-essentials. Conciliate the authorities in boards and universities. But hold fast to our traditional methods founded on truth and exemplifying all I have said far better than I can say it. I see two rays of hope promising a better day. One is that the national intelligence is beginning to be conscious of the inroads upon the Constitution already made by bureaucratic methods, and measures imposed lawlessly by certain associations upon Congress and State legislatures. The other is, that a system which contradicts human nature cannot stand. Only an hour ago I read a complaint from a leader in the world of State education that only a comparatively small percentage of those of student age avail themselves of the opportunities offered them. It may be that Americans will prefer bureaucratic tyranny to constitutional liberty, and consent to have forced upon them what nature abhors. If so, then your career is ended. But you and I think better of American people. Lastly your position in the matter is much better than that of the colleges for men. You have a net-work [sic] of academies and parish schools all over the country that must give pause to any attack. The colleges stand isolated and alone. Their pupils could be taken up into existing institutions: yours would need new institutions to be provided. This is your safeguard and it is a real one.
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Source: Fr. Henry Woods, S.J., "The Necessary Subordination of Educational Theories to Sound Sociology," The Catholic Educational Association Bulletin 19, no. 1 (Nov. 1922): 385–397.
Igor Stravinsky on Snobs
[91] I have often heard artists say: "Why do you complain about snobs? It is they who are the most useful servants of new trends. If they don't serve [92] them out of conviction, they do it at least in their capacity as snobs. They are your best customers." I answer that they are bad customers, false customers, as they are as readily at the service of error as of truth. By serving all causes they completely vitiate the best ones because they confuse them with the worst.
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Source: Igor Stravinsky, Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons, trans. by Arthur Knodel and Ingolf Dahl (New York: Vintage Books, 1947), 91–92.
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Source: Igor Stravinsky, Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons, trans. by Arthur Knodel and Ingolf Dahl (New York: Vintage Books, 1947), 91–92.
Igor Stravinsky on Universality and Order in Music
[75] It just so happens that our contemporary epoch offers us the example of a musical culture that is day by day losing the sense of continuity and the taste for a common language.
Individual caprice and intellectual anarchy, which tend to control the world in which we live, isolate the artist from his fellow artists and condemn him to appear as a monster in the eyes of the public; a monster of originality, inventor of his own language, of his own vocabulary, and of the apparatus of his art. The use of already employed materials and of established forms is usually forbidden him. So he comes to the point of speaking an idiom without relation to the world that listens to him. His art becomes truly unique, in the sense [76] that it is incommunicable and shut off on every side. The erratic block is no longer a curiosity that is an exception; it is the sole model offered neophytes for emulation.
The appearance of a series of anarchic, incompatible, and contradictory tendencies in the field of history corresponds to this complete break in tradition. Times have changed since the day when Bach, Handel, and Vivaldi quite evidently spoke the same language which their disciples repeated after them, each one unwittingly transforming this language according to his own personality. The day when Haydn, Mozart, and Cimarosa echoed each other in works that served their successors as models, successors such as Rossini, who was fond of repeating in so touching a way that Mozart had been the delight of his youth, the desperation of his maturity, and the consolation of his old age.
Those times have given way to a new age that seeks to reduce everything to uniformity in the realm of matter while it tends to shatter all universality in the realm of the spirit in deference to an anarchic individualism. That his how once universal centers of culture have become isolated. They withdraw into a national, even regional, framework, which in its turn splits up to the point of eventual disappearance.
[77] Whether he wills it or not, the contemporary artist is caught in this infernal machination. There are simple souls who rejoice in this state of affairs. There are criminals who approve of it. Only a few are horrified at a solitude that obliges them to turn in upon themselves when everything invites them to participate in social life.
The universality whose benefits we are gradually losing is an entirely different thing from the cosmopolitanism that is beginning to take hold of us. Universality presupposes the fecundity of a culture that is spread and communicated everywhere, whereas cosmopolitanism provides for neither action nor doctrine and induces the indifferent passivity of a sterile eclecticism.
Universality necessarily stipulates submission to an established order. And its reasons for this stipulation are convincing. We submit to this order out of sympathy or prudence. In either case the benefits of submission are not long in appearing.
In a society like that of the Middle Ages, which recognized and safeguarded the primacy of the spiritual realm and the dignity of the human person (which must not be confused with the individual)—in such a society recognition by everyone of a hierarchy of values and a body of moral principles established an order of things that put everyone in accord concerning certain fundamental [78] concepts of good and evil, truth and error. I do not say of beauty and ugliness, because it is absolutely futile to dogmatize in so subjective a domain.
It should not surprise us then that social order has never directly governed these matters. As a matter of fact, it is not by promulgating an aesthetic, but by improving the status of man and by exalting the competent workman in the artist that a civilization communicates something of its order to works of art and speculation. The good artisan himself in those happy ages dreams of achieving the beautiful only through the categories of the useful. His prime concern is applied to the rightness of an operation that is performed well, in keeping with a true order. The aesthetic impression that will arise from this rightness will not be legitimately achieved except insofar as it was not calculated. Poussin said quite correctly that "the goal of art is delectation." He did not say that this delectation should be the goal of the artist who must always submit solely to the demands of the work to be done.
It is a fact of experience, and one that is only seemingly paradoxical, that we find freedom in a strict submission to the object: "It is not wisdom, but foolishness, that is stubborn," says Sophocles, in the magnificent translation of Antigone given us by André Bonnard. "Look at the trees. By embracing [78] the movements of the tempest they preserve their tender branches; but if they rear against the wind they are carried off, roots and all."
Let us take the best example: the fugue, a pure form in which the music means nothing outside itself. Doesn't the fugue imply the composer's submission to the rules? And is it not within those strictures that he finds the full flowering of his freedom as a creator? Strength, says Leonardo da Vinci, is born of constraint and dies in freedom.
Insubordination boasts of just the opposite and does away with constraint in the ever-disappointed hope of finding in freedom the principle of strength. Instead, it finds in freedom only the arbitrariness of whim and the disorders of fancy. Thus it loses every vestige of control, loses its bearings and ends by demanding of music things outside its scope and competence. Do we not, in truth, ask the impossible of music when we expect it to express feelings, to translate dramatic situations, even to imitate nature? And, as if it were not enough to condemn music to the job of being an illustrator, the century to which we owe what it called "progress through enlightenment" invented for good measure the monumental absurdity which consists of bestowing on every accessory, as well as on every feeling and every character of the lyrical drama, a sort of check-room number called a Leitmotiv—a [80] system that led Debussy to say that the Ring struck him as a sort of vast musical city directory.
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Source: Igor Stravinsky, Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons, trans. by Arthur Knodel and Ingolf Dahl (New York: Vintage Books, 1947), 75–80.
Individual caprice and intellectual anarchy, which tend to control the world in which we live, isolate the artist from his fellow artists and condemn him to appear as a monster in the eyes of the public; a monster of originality, inventor of his own language, of his own vocabulary, and of the apparatus of his art. The use of already employed materials and of established forms is usually forbidden him. So he comes to the point of speaking an idiom without relation to the world that listens to him. His art becomes truly unique, in the sense [76] that it is incommunicable and shut off on every side. The erratic block is no longer a curiosity that is an exception; it is the sole model offered neophytes for emulation.
The appearance of a series of anarchic, incompatible, and contradictory tendencies in the field of history corresponds to this complete break in tradition. Times have changed since the day when Bach, Handel, and Vivaldi quite evidently spoke the same language which their disciples repeated after them, each one unwittingly transforming this language according to his own personality. The day when Haydn, Mozart, and Cimarosa echoed each other in works that served their successors as models, successors such as Rossini, who was fond of repeating in so touching a way that Mozart had been the delight of his youth, the desperation of his maturity, and the consolation of his old age.
Those times have given way to a new age that seeks to reduce everything to uniformity in the realm of matter while it tends to shatter all universality in the realm of the spirit in deference to an anarchic individualism. That his how once universal centers of culture have become isolated. They withdraw into a national, even regional, framework, which in its turn splits up to the point of eventual disappearance.
[77] Whether he wills it or not, the contemporary artist is caught in this infernal machination. There are simple souls who rejoice in this state of affairs. There are criminals who approve of it. Only a few are horrified at a solitude that obliges them to turn in upon themselves when everything invites them to participate in social life.
The universality whose benefits we are gradually losing is an entirely different thing from the cosmopolitanism that is beginning to take hold of us. Universality presupposes the fecundity of a culture that is spread and communicated everywhere, whereas cosmopolitanism provides for neither action nor doctrine and induces the indifferent passivity of a sterile eclecticism.
Universality necessarily stipulates submission to an established order. And its reasons for this stipulation are convincing. We submit to this order out of sympathy or prudence. In either case the benefits of submission are not long in appearing.
In a society like that of the Middle Ages, which recognized and safeguarded the primacy of the spiritual realm and the dignity of the human person (which must not be confused with the individual)—in such a society recognition by everyone of a hierarchy of values and a body of moral principles established an order of things that put everyone in accord concerning certain fundamental [78] concepts of good and evil, truth and error. I do not say of beauty and ugliness, because it is absolutely futile to dogmatize in so subjective a domain.
It should not surprise us then that social order has never directly governed these matters. As a matter of fact, it is not by promulgating an aesthetic, but by improving the status of man and by exalting the competent workman in the artist that a civilization communicates something of its order to works of art and speculation. The good artisan himself in those happy ages dreams of achieving the beautiful only through the categories of the useful. His prime concern is applied to the rightness of an operation that is performed well, in keeping with a true order. The aesthetic impression that will arise from this rightness will not be legitimately achieved except insofar as it was not calculated. Poussin said quite correctly that "the goal of art is delectation." He did not say that this delectation should be the goal of the artist who must always submit solely to the demands of the work to be done.
It is a fact of experience, and one that is only seemingly paradoxical, that we find freedom in a strict submission to the object: "It is not wisdom, but foolishness, that is stubborn," says Sophocles, in the magnificent translation of Antigone given us by André Bonnard. "Look at the trees. By embracing [78] the movements of the tempest they preserve their tender branches; but if they rear against the wind they are carried off, roots and all."
Let us take the best example: the fugue, a pure form in which the music means nothing outside itself. Doesn't the fugue imply the composer's submission to the rules? And is it not within those strictures that he finds the full flowering of his freedom as a creator? Strength, says Leonardo da Vinci, is born of constraint and dies in freedom.
Insubordination boasts of just the opposite and does away with constraint in the ever-disappointed hope of finding in freedom the principle of strength. Instead, it finds in freedom only the arbitrariness of whim and the disorders of fancy. Thus it loses every vestige of control, loses its bearings and ends by demanding of music things outside its scope and competence. Do we not, in truth, ask the impossible of music when we expect it to express feelings, to translate dramatic situations, even to imitate nature? And, as if it were not enough to condemn music to the job of being an illustrator, the century to which we owe what it called "progress through enlightenment" invented for good measure the monumental absurdity which consists of bestowing on every accessory, as well as on every feeling and every character of the lyrical drama, a sort of check-room number called a Leitmotiv—a [80] system that led Debussy to say that the Ring struck him as a sort of vast musical city directory.
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Source: Igor Stravinsky, Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons, trans. by Arthur Knodel and Ingolf Dahl (New York: Vintage Books, 1947), 75–80.
Sunday, November 10, 2019
A New Vocation (1930)
[66] The Catholic Gazette (Vol. XXI, No. 2) thinks the moment is propitious for some sort of corporate action by Catholic ladies (and every true Catholic woman is a lady) to emphasize the present trend of fashion towards a more becoming and more artistic style of dress. Any artist will tell you, says our contemporary, that the short dress was not beautiful, whatever may be claimed for it on the score of comfort and hygiene. The trend of fashion is now against it, and possibly the energetic action of Catholic women in Italy and elsewhere has had much to do with the change. We have heard an eminent professor of moral theology argue that a few Catholic women, recognized as leaders of fashion, could quickly put an end to the extravagances of the dress designers by corporate action. Let it be agreed amongst them that they will resolutely refuse to buy anything, however beautiful, which offends Christian modesty, and let it be equally agreed that they will not buy a modest garment which is not beautiful, and the designers will quickly toe the line. This idea opens up the interesting possibility of turning the ''cult of fashion" into a vocation, but it requires a little pluck on the part of the few Catholic women who are sufficiently well-off and well-placed to be recognized as "leaders of fashion."
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Source: Anonymous editorial, "A New Vocation," The Catholic Fortnightly Review 37, no. 3 (March 1930): 66.
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Source: Anonymous editorial, "A New Vocation," The Catholic Fortnightly Review 37, no. 3 (March 1930): 66.
The Influence of Secularism in Education (1930)
[53] That there exists an antagonism between the spirit of the world and the spirit of Christ is proclaimed on nearly every page of Holy Writ. This spirit of the world, secularism, from the Latin saeculum, strives after the things of the earth as if the things beyond the earth had no real existence. Those imbued with this spirit sometimes pity, sometimes despise, and not infrequently hate those who are led by the spirit of Christ. The Book of Wisdom (V. 3) represents them as saying within themselves at seeing the reward of the just: "These are they whom we had sometime in derision, and for a parable of reproach; we fools esteemed their life madness and their end without honor."
At times this opposition breaks forth in deeds of violence, and we then have an era of persecution, an age of martyrs. At other times it works secretly, scarcely betraying its presence by outward signs; working as slow poison works in destroying life. But never will there be a cessation of hostilities as long as children of men inhabit this earth. Our present Holy Father in his encyclical on the Kingdom of Christ stresses anew the dangers of this bitter and unrelenting conflict.
What applies to the conflict between these two forces in general, is found particularly in the field of education. Here also we at times meet with open violence, as, for instance, in France and Mexico, and as attempted in Oregon and Michigan, to mention only recent instances. But more frequently it is a warfare hidden, but none the less dangerous, none the less bitter and determined, that is being waged: Secularism, under some disguise or other, is continually trying to dominate the educational field, and backed as it often is by the wealth and the power of the State, it would surely gain the victory were it not for the assistance of Christ, who promised that the gates of hell shall not prevail against His Church. Let me briefly call attention to some of the aspects of this struggle:
1. Secular education places paramount importance on the training of the intellect, not hesitating to state, with Socrates of old, that "ignorance is the only sin." Secular teachers (by this term I mean those that are influenced by the secular spirit) are calling continually for more and more book-learning; are continually on the lookout for a new "ology" of some kind or other to squeeze into their already over-crowded curriculum. They seem not to know that at the man who from things visible, from things created, can rise to the knowledge of his Creator, as man, far surpasses the product of pure secular education. They would look askance at the words of Dr. Cassidy (Cath. Educational Review) that "Education is the making of the man; is the development of the Christian." They rank the mountaineer of Kentucky very low in their educational standards because he does not know how to read man-made books; they disregard entirely the fact that the same mountaineer often knows how to read the far more important book of nature and finds [54] therein lessons of uprightness, honesty, loyalty, deep religious convictions, etc. I wonder if Dr. Johnson, of the Catholic University, would still condemn as unreservedly as he did in 1919 the following opinion of a well-known educator: "I would say to elementary teachers: 'Give me a boy of the age of eleven or twelve, who writes a good legible hand, who spells correctly, reads with expression, has an accurate knowledge of the Baltimore Catechism and of Bible History, who can do rapid and accurate work in arithmetic, who knows fractions and percentages, who can write a short letter in simple and plain English, whose habits of speech are correct, and not slangy, whose manners, if not gentle, show at least some thought of others besides himself, and whose life is virtuous—and I will say that this boy has received a good elementary education. With these results we need not care how much or how little information he has acquired, nor need we inquire about methods, nor ask how much the teacher knows about psychology'." 'Tis strange indeed, in the pulpit and on the platform, our Catholic spokesmen emphasize the need of a complete education of the child, as distinct from the mere training of the intellect; they would in this respect be willing to quote Dr. Butler, who says: "Mere learning is not enough. The educated man whose character is not sound, whose conscience is not rightly instructed, whose conduct is not governed by higher considerations than those resting on mere expediency is liable to become a detriment to society: selfishness is apt to rule the life of such a one." And yet what do we find? Are not those who have been intellectually first in mathematics, science, history, etc., called upon the stage to receive all honors? Is it hard to find herein the influence of secularism, which is able to make us follow in practice what in theory we all condemn? The true religious teacher ought to view things from God's standpoint: the sentire cum ecclesia must be a pronounced trait in his or her character. Does God reward the intellectual giants on account of their achievements? Does the Church reserve her honors for those who have been able to astound their fellowmen by their mental prowess? Why not reward those and those only who have sincerely tried to use whatever talent God has given them and have made earnest efforts to conform their conduct to God's holy rule?
2. Secularism likewise stands revealed in the modern educator's attitude towards classical training; modern education insists, beyond all measure, that education must be practical, that it must impart ability to the child to share in the world's power and riches: hence the insistence on a business or manual training. What shall we eat? what shall we drink? with what shall we be clothed?—seems adequately to express this whole outlook on life. Training for a certain condition or vocation cannot be reasonably condemned; but we cannot approve the a priori condemnation of classical learning as something impractical for modern times. The underlying principle of the advocates of this tendency is that the training of the child should enable it to gain the most of life's advantages in the shortest possible time. An editorial writer in one of the afternoon papers puts it thus: "In this industrial and commercial age the public mind is on money or the means whereby money may be obtained."
3. If we carefully look over the textbooks used in the modern schools we meet again and easily recognize the spirit of the world hostile to the spirit of God. How many of our histories unblushingly teach the progress of nations along the lines of evolution. The Bible tells us that the first man was gifted with preternatural powers of mind and body; that owing to sin his mind became darkened and his will weak; and hence the state of barbarism is the result of his own conduct; but pseudo history teaches that somehow or other, by his own efforts and fitness man has gradually reached the present pinnacle of perfection, after evolving from some lower type. How many geographies tell the child only of material [55] and commercial progress; as illustrations you will find pictures of mining operations, industrial sites, business activities, etc., but seldom, if ever is allusion made to monuments inspired by religion, to cathedrals, universities, works of art. Not a few textbooks give extracts from authors who are justly condemned on account of their immoral teaching, thus opening to the mind of the child a vast field of what is vile and debasing. Many other examples of the same type could be quoted, but these few will suffice to show in how many different ways, through textbooks, the spirit of the world tries to gain the heart of the child.
4. In that indefinable something which we call the atmosphere of the schoolroom the workings of secularism are oftentimes very apparent. In our public schools all religious instruction is barred; no teacher is allowed to speak of man's duties towards God;—duties towards fellowman, perhaps, and towards self, but not towards God. The pupil may be told to live his own life and to obey his own impulses, but not that God has a right to exact of him obedience and submission. During the day no allusions will be made to the supernatural; no religious pictures or sacred images, the silent yet powerful reminders of a world beyond, are allowed. Even in our own Catholic schools—especially such as have non-Catholic pupils—secularism now and then shows itself under this guise. For fear of offending the non-Catholic child, the Catholic child is deprived of his birthright; his religious education is confined to a half-hour daily; indeed, in some extreme cases strictly Catholic pictures and emblems are banished from the classroom. Do such teachers realize that religion is not merely a body of truth, but also a virtue, in fact the highest of the moral virtues; that to form this virtue in the child must be the supreme aim of the teacher; and that since virtue is formed and strengthened by repeated acts, the teacher, not only during the period of instruction in religion, but frequently during the day, must strive to arouse in the child acts of this virtue, and that religious pictures, statues, devotions, etc., are a great help to the teacher in this respect? Dr. Johnson, in Fundamentals of Education, very appropriately says: "It is not enough for the child to learn the truth; he must like- wise be schooled in living according to it. Opportunities must be afforded him for putting his ideas to work. . . . The whole atmosphere of the school, the personality of the teacher, the discipline, the spirit, the experience provided, should reflect the truths that are taught . . , [sic] so that while the pupil acquires the necessary ideas, he may develop the attitudes and the habits that are of the essence of Christian character." That Sister who, as quoted by the Rev. Felix Kirsch, O.M.Cap., said, "Since I am called to make saints of my pupils, I must be a saint myself," seems to understand this truth. The hostile government of Mexico is fully aware of the influence of a Catholic atmosphere on the mind of a child. How pitiful this cry of the superioress of a teaching community in Mexico: "We have pretended that in our schools only lay instruction is impartial. We have removed the sacred images from our parlors and reception rooms. We have taught the pupils to conceal the fact that they are being taught religion. We have, in short, taught our pupils to deny the truth, and if we go farther, we shall tear out by the roots from their tender hearts their Christian faith and manhood." How courageous and truly Christian: "We will refuse in every school we have in Mexico to accept these infernal rules. . . . We are prepared with all our Sisters to undertake the hardships of an effective and open fight." This trying to spare the susceptibilities of the non-Catholic by toning down Catholic teaching is known in Europe as "Americanism" and was condemned by the late Pope Leo XIII. A recent editorial in the Dearborn Independent said quite apropos: "This is the broad age of suave tolerance. The soft pedal threatens at times to become our national symbol. Tolerance is our shibboleth; intolerance our greatest [56] dread. We must not speak our minds lest we offend. . . . Be bland! is the new commandment." The title of the editorial was: The Great Hush-Hush.
5. "He that is not with me is against me." According to this principle of our Saviour [sic] we must consider most governments of the present day as on the side of secularism. Now we find that there is a growing interference on the part of the State in our educational system, and some of us even seem proud of State supervision and boast of State approbation. Do we not find academies and high schools glorying in the fact that they are affiliated with the State University, as if our Catholic schools should serve as feeders to these centers of learning so frequently condemned by pope and bishop! A certain State superintendent personally told me that he was asked by some religious to come and inspect their schools because they were anxious for the State's approval! Need we be surprised, then, if the State arrogates to itself the power to dictate as to the requirements of the religious teachers and their course of studies? King Ezechias, as is mentioned in Holy Writ, invited God's enemies to come and inspect his treasures; the punishment, foretold by Isaias [Isaiah], was not long delayed; the Babylonians came and carried away all the boasting king's possessions.
6. Secularism shows itself likewise in the treatment of religious instruction. Time is but grudgingly allowed for this subject, especially in our high schools and normal schools. When Bismarck, in 1872, tried to bring the Church under the complete control of the State, he wanted to allow two hours weekly for religious instruction; the German episcopate fought him and insisted on having six hours a week at least. How many of our high schools allow more than a half credit for religion, whereas a full credit is allowed for English, science, mathematics, etc. Even in our teachers' training schools religious instruction is considered more or less of secondary importance—but studies demanded by the State receive fullest consideration.
If the provisions of §203 of the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore were carried out, we should perhaps not meet with religious teachers who do not know the principal parts of the Mass, or who would teach children that certain acts are mortal sins which are not sins at all, or would frighten with eternal hell fire the little child telling a lie. I have heard of instances where, during the year of the novitiate, which, according to canon 565, must be entirely devoted to the religious formation of the novice, some of the time is spent in preparing for examination in secular branches—because the State requires it! Need we be astonished if even some of our own teachers think that the principal difference between themselves and the public school teachers consists in their being somewhat more piously dressed? During their years of training they have not been made to realize the truth of Bishop McFaul's words: "That education, whose value ends with the few fleeting years of this earthly life, is of comparatively little importance, seeing that our future weal and woe depends upon the life we have led in this world. . . . Here is the object the religious teacher must unceasingly keep in mind—the Kingdom of God and His justice! . . . It is well to be learned, polished, and cultured, yet it is far more necessary to be God-fearing, conscious of an approaching day of reckoning, when the acts of life will be weighed in the balance of divine justice."
7. Since this insistence for higher education has taken hold of our religious teaching communities, there has come along with it some of the worldling's love for titles, for an M.A., or a Ph.D., etc., and a certain superiority complex which fits in badly with the Christian spirit. The old teacher may not know all the new terms modern pedagogy finds necessary to coin; but neither does the old-fashioned mother know aught about calories, carbohydrates, vitamines [sic], balanced rations, etc., yet many a savory meal does she know how to prepare, and many a man finds a country dinner more nourishing than [57] a meal prepared by a domestic science expert. There is danger that the young teacher, in her anxiety to acquire the new knowledge, will forget some of the decorum, modesty, unselfishness, childlike faith and simplicity which a religious teacher must possess in an eminent degree. There is danger that the young teacher, disregarding the laws of the Church, will seek knowledge at secular schools where, as Archbishop Curley puts it, "in the school of history Catholic students are forced to listen to vitriolic diatribes against their Church, the papacy, and Catholic religious life in general; in the school of sociology the professor may give out a teaching which is fundamentally opposed to Christian doctrine." G. K. Chesterton is even more explicit: "The professor can teach any sectarian idea, not in the name of the sect, but in the name of science. The professor can preach the advantage of polygamy and call it a lesson in anthropology or history. The professor can insinuate any ideas about life, because biology is a study of life. The professor can suggest any views on the nature of man, because history is the story of man." (Illustrated London News, Aug., 1925.)
Not only is attendance at such schools fraught with danger for the student ("He who loves danger shall perish therein"), but it is often a source of scandal to others. Some time ago a priest told me how he had warned a mother against sending her girl to the University of Cincinnati and got the reply, "Why, Father, quite a few Sisters attend the lectures there." There is a secular university in the East attended, I am told, by a large number of Sisters, because it offers some courses not found elsewhere, and this reason is considered sufficient for disregarding the wishes of Holy Church. "Verily, He who hears you hears me, he who despiseth you despiseth me," must be considered a dead letter by these nuns.
The Gnostics of old certainly made a mistake when they grossly exaggerated the power of evil and made of it a vital principle equal in power to the good God. But are we not drifting to the opposite extreme by minimizing the potency for evil of him who still goes about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour ? In the garden of Eden he enticed our first parents by the promise of greater knowledge—"you shall be knowing good and evil"—to disregard God's commandment, and at the present day he still holds out the same lure to make men deaf to the Church's cry of alarm.
"East is East and West is West and ne'er the twain shall meet," says Kipling. This holds good, so it seems to me, as regards the public school system and the parochial school system. The one is of earth, earthy; the other must be from heaven, heavenly; the one's great object is to train good and useful citizens; the other's chief aim is to win adherents for the kingdom of God. The one teaches the values of the means leading to material prosperity; the other deals mainly in spiritual realities. The one is becoming daily more intensely national; the other is essentially Catholic, teaching that we all are children of one Father in Heaven, who loves all men without distinction of color or race. Though it would be blindness not to see the good accomplished by our public school teachers, yet we would be betraying a sacred trust and opening the doors of our schools to secularism, were we slavishly to imitate their methods and copy their curriculum.
Brann, of Iconoclast fame [William Cowper Brann (1855–1898), American journalist, owned and ran a newspaper out of Austin, Texas and later Waco, called the Iconoclast], said to an Episcopalian who asked him for his opinion as to the difference between the Episcopalian and the Catholic Church; "The Catholics are Papists and you people are Apists." Let us always be Papists and never Apists.
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[Anonymous Editorial appended to the above essay:]
While we make a great fuss about education and boast how many millions we are spending as a people in educating everybody in this land of ours, it is rather amusing to read that the coach of a football team receives a larger salary than any of the professors who teach only such minor and unimportant studies at literature, logic, philosophy, mathematics, etc.
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Source: Fr. Michael Leick, "The Influence of Secularism in Education," The Catholic Fortnightly Review 37, no. 3 (March 1930): 53–57.
At times this opposition breaks forth in deeds of violence, and we then have an era of persecution, an age of martyrs. At other times it works secretly, scarcely betraying its presence by outward signs; working as slow poison works in destroying life. But never will there be a cessation of hostilities as long as children of men inhabit this earth. Our present Holy Father in his encyclical on the Kingdom of Christ stresses anew the dangers of this bitter and unrelenting conflict.
What applies to the conflict between these two forces in general, is found particularly in the field of education. Here also we at times meet with open violence, as, for instance, in France and Mexico, and as attempted in Oregon and Michigan, to mention only recent instances. But more frequently it is a warfare hidden, but none the less dangerous, none the less bitter and determined, that is being waged: Secularism, under some disguise or other, is continually trying to dominate the educational field, and backed as it often is by the wealth and the power of the State, it would surely gain the victory were it not for the assistance of Christ, who promised that the gates of hell shall not prevail against His Church. Let me briefly call attention to some of the aspects of this struggle:
1. Secular education places paramount importance on the training of the intellect, not hesitating to state, with Socrates of old, that "ignorance is the only sin." Secular teachers (by this term I mean those that are influenced by the secular spirit) are calling continually for more and more book-learning; are continually on the lookout for a new "ology" of some kind or other to squeeze into their already over-crowded curriculum. They seem not to know that at the man who from things visible, from things created, can rise to the knowledge of his Creator, as man, far surpasses the product of pure secular education. They would look askance at the words of Dr. Cassidy (Cath. Educational Review) that "Education is the making of the man; is the development of the Christian." They rank the mountaineer of Kentucky very low in their educational standards because he does not know how to read man-made books; they disregard entirely the fact that the same mountaineer often knows how to read the far more important book of nature and finds [54] therein lessons of uprightness, honesty, loyalty, deep religious convictions, etc. I wonder if Dr. Johnson, of the Catholic University, would still condemn as unreservedly as he did in 1919 the following opinion of a well-known educator: "I would say to elementary teachers: 'Give me a boy of the age of eleven or twelve, who writes a good legible hand, who spells correctly, reads with expression, has an accurate knowledge of the Baltimore Catechism and of Bible History, who can do rapid and accurate work in arithmetic, who knows fractions and percentages, who can write a short letter in simple and plain English, whose habits of speech are correct, and not slangy, whose manners, if not gentle, show at least some thought of others besides himself, and whose life is virtuous—and I will say that this boy has received a good elementary education. With these results we need not care how much or how little information he has acquired, nor need we inquire about methods, nor ask how much the teacher knows about psychology'." 'Tis strange indeed, in the pulpit and on the platform, our Catholic spokesmen emphasize the need of a complete education of the child, as distinct from the mere training of the intellect; they would in this respect be willing to quote Dr. Butler, who says: "Mere learning is not enough. The educated man whose character is not sound, whose conscience is not rightly instructed, whose conduct is not governed by higher considerations than those resting on mere expediency is liable to become a detriment to society: selfishness is apt to rule the life of such a one." And yet what do we find? Are not those who have been intellectually first in mathematics, science, history, etc., called upon the stage to receive all honors? Is it hard to find herein the influence of secularism, which is able to make us follow in practice what in theory we all condemn? The true religious teacher ought to view things from God's standpoint: the sentire cum ecclesia must be a pronounced trait in his or her character. Does God reward the intellectual giants on account of their achievements? Does the Church reserve her honors for those who have been able to astound their fellowmen by their mental prowess? Why not reward those and those only who have sincerely tried to use whatever talent God has given them and have made earnest efforts to conform their conduct to God's holy rule?
2. Secularism likewise stands revealed in the modern educator's attitude towards classical training; modern education insists, beyond all measure, that education must be practical, that it must impart ability to the child to share in the world's power and riches: hence the insistence on a business or manual training. What shall we eat? what shall we drink? with what shall we be clothed?—seems adequately to express this whole outlook on life. Training for a certain condition or vocation cannot be reasonably condemned; but we cannot approve the a priori condemnation of classical learning as something impractical for modern times. The underlying principle of the advocates of this tendency is that the training of the child should enable it to gain the most of life's advantages in the shortest possible time. An editorial writer in one of the afternoon papers puts it thus: "In this industrial and commercial age the public mind is on money or the means whereby money may be obtained."
3. If we carefully look over the textbooks used in the modern schools we meet again and easily recognize the spirit of the world hostile to the spirit of God. How many of our histories unblushingly teach the progress of nations along the lines of evolution. The Bible tells us that the first man was gifted with preternatural powers of mind and body; that owing to sin his mind became darkened and his will weak; and hence the state of barbarism is the result of his own conduct; but pseudo history teaches that somehow or other, by his own efforts and fitness man has gradually reached the present pinnacle of perfection, after evolving from some lower type. How many geographies tell the child only of material [55] and commercial progress; as illustrations you will find pictures of mining operations, industrial sites, business activities, etc., but seldom, if ever is allusion made to monuments inspired by religion, to cathedrals, universities, works of art. Not a few textbooks give extracts from authors who are justly condemned on account of their immoral teaching, thus opening to the mind of the child a vast field of what is vile and debasing. Many other examples of the same type could be quoted, but these few will suffice to show in how many different ways, through textbooks, the spirit of the world tries to gain the heart of the child.
4. In that indefinable something which we call the atmosphere of the schoolroom the workings of secularism are oftentimes very apparent. In our public schools all religious instruction is barred; no teacher is allowed to speak of man's duties towards God;—duties towards fellowman, perhaps, and towards self, but not towards God. The pupil may be told to live his own life and to obey his own impulses, but not that God has a right to exact of him obedience and submission. During the day no allusions will be made to the supernatural; no religious pictures or sacred images, the silent yet powerful reminders of a world beyond, are allowed. Even in our own Catholic schools—especially such as have non-Catholic pupils—secularism now and then shows itself under this guise. For fear of offending the non-Catholic child, the Catholic child is deprived of his birthright; his religious education is confined to a half-hour daily; indeed, in some extreme cases strictly Catholic pictures and emblems are banished from the classroom. Do such teachers realize that religion is not merely a body of truth, but also a virtue, in fact the highest of the moral virtues; that to form this virtue in the child must be the supreme aim of the teacher; and that since virtue is formed and strengthened by repeated acts, the teacher, not only during the period of instruction in religion, but frequently during the day, must strive to arouse in the child acts of this virtue, and that religious pictures, statues, devotions, etc., are a great help to the teacher in this respect? Dr. Johnson, in Fundamentals of Education, very appropriately says: "It is not enough for the child to learn the truth; he must like- wise be schooled in living according to it. Opportunities must be afforded him for putting his ideas to work. . . . The whole atmosphere of the school, the personality of the teacher, the discipline, the spirit, the experience provided, should reflect the truths that are taught . . , [sic] so that while the pupil acquires the necessary ideas, he may develop the attitudes and the habits that are of the essence of Christian character." That Sister who, as quoted by the Rev. Felix Kirsch, O.M.Cap., said, "Since I am called to make saints of my pupils, I must be a saint myself," seems to understand this truth. The hostile government of Mexico is fully aware of the influence of a Catholic atmosphere on the mind of a child. How pitiful this cry of the superioress of a teaching community in Mexico: "We have pretended that in our schools only lay instruction is impartial. We have removed the sacred images from our parlors and reception rooms. We have taught the pupils to conceal the fact that they are being taught religion. We have, in short, taught our pupils to deny the truth, and if we go farther, we shall tear out by the roots from their tender hearts their Christian faith and manhood." How courageous and truly Christian: "We will refuse in every school we have in Mexico to accept these infernal rules. . . . We are prepared with all our Sisters to undertake the hardships of an effective and open fight." This trying to spare the susceptibilities of the non-Catholic by toning down Catholic teaching is known in Europe as "Americanism" and was condemned by the late Pope Leo XIII. A recent editorial in the Dearborn Independent said quite apropos: "This is the broad age of suave tolerance. The soft pedal threatens at times to become our national symbol. Tolerance is our shibboleth; intolerance our greatest [56] dread. We must not speak our minds lest we offend. . . . Be bland! is the new commandment." The title of the editorial was: The Great Hush-Hush.
5. "He that is not with me is against me." According to this principle of our Saviour [sic] we must consider most governments of the present day as on the side of secularism. Now we find that there is a growing interference on the part of the State in our educational system, and some of us even seem proud of State supervision and boast of State approbation. Do we not find academies and high schools glorying in the fact that they are affiliated with the State University, as if our Catholic schools should serve as feeders to these centers of learning so frequently condemned by pope and bishop! A certain State superintendent personally told me that he was asked by some religious to come and inspect their schools because they were anxious for the State's approval! Need we be surprised, then, if the State arrogates to itself the power to dictate as to the requirements of the religious teachers and their course of studies? King Ezechias, as is mentioned in Holy Writ, invited God's enemies to come and inspect his treasures; the punishment, foretold by Isaias [Isaiah], was not long delayed; the Babylonians came and carried away all the boasting king's possessions.
6. Secularism shows itself likewise in the treatment of religious instruction. Time is but grudgingly allowed for this subject, especially in our high schools and normal schools. When Bismarck, in 1872, tried to bring the Church under the complete control of the State, he wanted to allow two hours weekly for religious instruction; the German episcopate fought him and insisted on having six hours a week at least. How many of our high schools allow more than a half credit for religion, whereas a full credit is allowed for English, science, mathematics, etc. Even in our teachers' training schools religious instruction is considered more or less of secondary importance—but studies demanded by the State receive fullest consideration.
If the provisions of §203 of the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore were carried out, we should perhaps not meet with religious teachers who do not know the principal parts of the Mass, or who would teach children that certain acts are mortal sins which are not sins at all, or would frighten with eternal hell fire the little child telling a lie. I have heard of instances where, during the year of the novitiate, which, according to canon 565, must be entirely devoted to the religious formation of the novice, some of the time is spent in preparing for examination in secular branches—because the State requires it! Need we be astonished if even some of our own teachers think that the principal difference between themselves and the public school teachers consists in their being somewhat more piously dressed? During their years of training they have not been made to realize the truth of Bishop McFaul's words: "That education, whose value ends with the few fleeting years of this earthly life, is of comparatively little importance, seeing that our future weal and woe depends upon the life we have led in this world. . . . Here is the object the religious teacher must unceasingly keep in mind—the Kingdom of God and His justice! . . . It is well to be learned, polished, and cultured, yet it is far more necessary to be God-fearing, conscious of an approaching day of reckoning, when the acts of life will be weighed in the balance of divine justice."
7. Since this insistence for higher education has taken hold of our religious teaching communities, there has come along with it some of the worldling's love for titles, for an M.A., or a Ph.D., etc., and a certain superiority complex which fits in badly with the Christian spirit. The old teacher may not know all the new terms modern pedagogy finds necessary to coin; but neither does the old-fashioned mother know aught about calories, carbohydrates, vitamines [sic], balanced rations, etc., yet many a savory meal does she know how to prepare, and many a man finds a country dinner more nourishing than [57] a meal prepared by a domestic science expert. There is danger that the young teacher, in her anxiety to acquire the new knowledge, will forget some of the decorum, modesty, unselfishness, childlike faith and simplicity which a religious teacher must possess in an eminent degree. There is danger that the young teacher, disregarding the laws of the Church, will seek knowledge at secular schools where, as Archbishop Curley puts it, "in the school of history Catholic students are forced to listen to vitriolic diatribes against their Church, the papacy, and Catholic religious life in general; in the school of sociology the professor may give out a teaching which is fundamentally opposed to Christian doctrine." G. K. Chesterton is even more explicit: "The professor can teach any sectarian idea, not in the name of the sect, but in the name of science. The professor can preach the advantage of polygamy and call it a lesson in anthropology or history. The professor can insinuate any ideas about life, because biology is a study of life. The professor can suggest any views on the nature of man, because history is the story of man." (Illustrated London News, Aug., 1925.)
Not only is attendance at such schools fraught with danger for the student ("He who loves danger shall perish therein"), but it is often a source of scandal to others. Some time ago a priest told me how he had warned a mother against sending her girl to the University of Cincinnati and got the reply, "Why, Father, quite a few Sisters attend the lectures there." There is a secular university in the East attended, I am told, by a large number of Sisters, because it offers some courses not found elsewhere, and this reason is considered sufficient for disregarding the wishes of Holy Church. "Verily, He who hears you hears me, he who despiseth you despiseth me," must be considered a dead letter by these nuns.
The Gnostics of old certainly made a mistake when they grossly exaggerated the power of evil and made of it a vital principle equal in power to the good God. But are we not drifting to the opposite extreme by minimizing the potency for evil of him who still goes about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour ? In the garden of Eden he enticed our first parents by the promise of greater knowledge—"you shall be knowing good and evil"—to disregard God's commandment, and at the present day he still holds out the same lure to make men deaf to the Church's cry of alarm.
"East is East and West is West and ne'er the twain shall meet," says Kipling. This holds good, so it seems to me, as regards the public school system and the parochial school system. The one is of earth, earthy; the other must be from heaven, heavenly; the one's great object is to train good and useful citizens; the other's chief aim is to win adherents for the kingdom of God. The one teaches the values of the means leading to material prosperity; the other deals mainly in spiritual realities. The one is becoming daily more intensely national; the other is essentially Catholic, teaching that we all are children of one Father in Heaven, who loves all men without distinction of color or race. Though it would be blindness not to see the good accomplished by our public school teachers, yet we would be betraying a sacred trust and opening the doors of our schools to secularism, were we slavishly to imitate their methods and copy their curriculum.
Brann, of Iconoclast fame [William Cowper Brann (1855–1898), American journalist, owned and ran a newspaper out of Austin, Texas and later Waco, called the Iconoclast], said to an Episcopalian who asked him for his opinion as to the difference between the Episcopalian and the Catholic Church; "The Catholics are Papists and you people are Apists." Let us always be Papists and never Apists.
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[Anonymous Editorial appended to the above essay:]
While we make a great fuss about education and boast how many millions we are spending as a people in educating everybody in this land of ours, it is rather amusing to read that the coach of a football team receives a larger salary than any of the professors who teach only such minor and unimportant studies at literature, logic, philosophy, mathematics, etc.
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Source: Fr. Michael Leick, "The Influence of Secularism in Education," The Catholic Fortnightly Review 37, no. 3 (March 1930): 53–57.
The Catholic Family
[11] The Christian father, as a matter of course, uncomplainingly devotes his energies to provide for the family over which he rules with a firm, yet gentle, hand. The Christian mother is the heart of the family. Her influence pervades the home like a continuous benediction. Christian children recognize in their parents the true representatives of the God of authority, counsel and love.
IN the Christian home, God and the things that are God, are always spoken of with respect and veneration. There is deeply implanted in the childish mind that first and above all things comes duty to God. In a home where that policy is pursued, where religion is always spoken of with respect and with affection, where the priesthood is honored, where prayer is regularly said, where God is thanked constantly for the blessings of health and strength, where reverence for the Church and sympathy for her hard fight in the world is freely expressed, where solemn warning is given at frequent intervals against the dangers of the times and the conditions and surroundings, where children are continually impressed with the importance of being truthful and good—there, in that home, is an atmosphere which has its inevitable effects on the soul, heart and mind of the child as cold or heat has on its body.
That is the Catholic Christian atmosphere; and that is the atmosphere of the truly Catholic home. Though Christian parents are necessarily solicitous for the physical welfare of the children, they never permit matters of the soul to be made secondary or subservient to other matters; and above all, they take precautions against anything which might lead the children into temptation or sin. St. Blanche's words spoken to St. Louis in his youth: "I had rather see you dead at my feet than guilty of mortal sin," were engraved on his heart and influenced him throughout his entire life.
The home is the primeval school, and the mother the most influential of teachers. History is full of examples of great men and women who owed practically all that was in them to good religious mothers. And many wonderfully edifying examples may be found in fathers who were true devotees of St. Joseph, the Patron of Family Life, and whom the Divine Child fondly addressed as "father." Even among the saintly, the Holy Family of Nazareth is immeasurably transcendent, uniting heaven with earth and clothing with love unfathomable the names of "father" and "mother."
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Source: D. J. McDonald, "Prize Winning Essay—'The Christian Family'," National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 10, no. 4 (Sept. 1928): 11.
IN the Christian home, God and the things that are God, are always spoken of with respect and veneration. There is deeply implanted in the childish mind that first and above all things comes duty to God. In a home where that policy is pursued, where religion is always spoken of with respect and with affection, where the priesthood is honored, where prayer is regularly said, where God is thanked constantly for the blessings of health and strength, where reverence for the Church and sympathy for her hard fight in the world is freely expressed, where solemn warning is given at frequent intervals against the dangers of the times and the conditions and surroundings, where children are continually impressed with the importance of being truthful and good—there, in that home, is an atmosphere which has its inevitable effects on the soul, heart and mind of the child as cold or heat has on its body.
That is the Catholic Christian atmosphere; and that is the atmosphere of the truly Catholic home. Though Christian parents are necessarily solicitous for the physical welfare of the children, they never permit matters of the soul to be made secondary or subservient to other matters; and above all, they take precautions against anything which might lead the children into temptation or sin. St. Blanche's words spoken to St. Louis in his youth: "I had rather see you dead at my feet than guilty of mortal sin," were engraved on his heart and influenced him throughout his entire life.
The home is the primeval school, and the mother the most influential of teachers. History is full of examples of great men and women who owed practically all that was in them to good religious mothers. And many wonderfully edifying examples may be found in fathers who were true devotees of St. Joseph, the Patron of Family Life, and whom the Divine Child fondly addressed as "father." Even among the saintly, the Holy Family of Nazareth is immeasurably transcendent, uniting heaven with earth and clothing with love unfathomable the names of "father" and "mother."
---
Source: D. J. McDonald, "Prize Winning Essay—'The Christian Family'," National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 10, no. 4 (Sept. 1928): 11.
The "Why" of Catholic Schools (1928)
[2] IN 1926 THERE WERE 162 major and minor seminaries, with 15,836 students; 154 colleges and universities, with 74,849 students; 2,242 secondary schools, with 204,815 pupils; and 7,449 elementary schools, with 2,111,560 pupils. The total number of all schools was 10,087, with an attendance of 2,423,019.
THESE figures, quoted from the latest school statistics, have a salient and inescapable significance. They portray the existence of a vast system of separate schools, established and maintained without appreciable outside aid in money or material, labor or talent. They prove an accomplishment and a sacrifice. They set forth the fulfillment of the personal, religious and patriotic duty of education. They are evidence of obedience to the moral law and the positive law of the Church. They represent an expression of faith. They are, in a manner of speaking, a vote of confidence in the rightfulness and efficacy of the Catholic educational policy.
SUCH is the favorable significance of the figures. But they have also an unfavorable significance, which is no less salient and inescapable. They imply that a very large number—nearly one half—of the Catholic youth are not attending Catholic schools. Even after allowance is made for the many instances where Catholic schools are not available or can not [sic] be conveniently attended, the figures still justify the conclusion that in many quarters there is an unfortunate lack of that spirit of sacrifice, that fulfillment of duty, that obedience of law, that faith and that confidence, of which mention was made a moment ago.
WHOM to blame? A part of the blame can be put upon the agents of the Church; but most of it undoubtedly rests upon the parents and to some degree upon the young themselves. Our school figures are not so high as they should be, because many Catholics fail or neglect or refuse fully to understand the "why" of Catholic schools.
AGAIN and again it seems necessary to insist that the primary and principal reason for the existence of Catholic schools is the Catholic religion. This is elementary. If salvation is our ultimate goal—if religion, therefore, is the chief concern of man—then schooling, whether it is to prepare for life or be life itself for a time, cannot without ruin be robbed of religion. Deny the need of religion in education, and you deny the need of salvation.
IT is a false defense to say that religious education can ordinarily take place apart from regular schooling; for it can not so take place successfully. It is a perverse pedagogy and an insincere psychology that propound such a doctrine. You can not counteract twenty hours (the average school week) spent in a non-religious, or perhaps anti-religious, school by one or two or five hours spent anywhere in a religious class. Education is very much a matter of environment, and impression; of atmosphere, and absorption; of example, and imitation. Education, even in a formal process, is fostered as much by indirection as by direction. As much is taught by vague suggestion as by positive instruction. As much damage is done by unmeaning omission as by culpable commission.
TO allege that there are greater temporal benefits—scientific, social or what not—to be derived from non-Catholic schooling, is faithless flippancy on the part of parents and nothing but upstart sophistication on the part of the young. Are not the treasures of religion immeasurably more valuable than the richest of secular advantages? Is not the sacred simplicity of the faith ineffably superior to the world's vainglorious complexities? It is shocking to see Christian parents pretentiously planning mere careers for their children. It is not a good living they should make, but it is a Christian life they should lead. They should not seek selfish success, but rather service of God and man, and, through such service, salvation of soul.
LOVING parents want their children to be happy. But happiness is not in the fame of a name, not in the pride of learning, not in the glory of art, not in the triumphs of science, not in the comfort of riches, not in the delights of love, not in the command of men, not in the conquest of nature. True happiness is only in the fulfillment of the soul's desire to see its God. Such is the Christian doctrine, lofty in its lowliness. "Thou hast made us unto Thee, O Lord, and my heart is restless until it reposeth in Thee."
FOR Catholic children, a Catholic education is the pre-requisite equipment for traveling the road to true happiness. That is "WHY" the Church, being our God-given guide, maintains her own schools.
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Source: Charles A. McMahon, "The 'Why' of Catholic Schools," National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 10, no. 4 (Sept. 1928): 2.
THESE figures, quoted from the latest school statistics, have a salient and inescapable significance. They portray the existence of a vast system of separate schools, established and maintained without appreciable outside aid in money or material, labor or talent. They prove an accomplishment and a sacrifice. They set forth the fulfillment of the personal, religious and patriotic duty of education. They are evidence of obedience to the moral law and the positive law of the Church. They represent an expression of faith. They are, in a manner of speaking, a vote of confidence in the rightfulness and efficacy of the Catholic educational policy.
SUCH is the favorable significance of the figures. But they have also an unfavorable significance, which is no less salient and inescapable. They imply that a very large number—nearly one half—of the Catholic youth are not attending Catholic schools. Even after allowance is made for the many instances where Catholic schools are not available or can not [sic] be conveniently attended, the figures still justify the conclusion that in many quarters there is an unfortunate lack of that spirit of sacrifice, that fulfillment of duty, that obedience of law, that faith and that confidence, of which mention was made a moment ago.
WHOM to blame? A part of the blame can be put upon the agents of the Church; but most of it undoubtedly rests upon the parents and to some degree upon the young themselves. Our school figures are not so high as they should be, because many Catholics fail or neglect or refuse fully to understand the "why" of Catholic schools.
AGAIN and again it seems necessary to insist that the primary and principal reason for the existence of Catholic schools is the Catholic religion. This is elementary. If salvation is our ultimate goal—if religion, therefore, is the chief concern of man—then schooling, whether it is to prepare for life or be life itself for a time, cannot without ruin be robbed of religion. Deny the need of religion in education, and you deny the need of salvation.
IT is a false defense to say that religious education can ordinarily take place apart from regular schooling; for it can not so take place successfully. It is a perverse pedagogy and an insincere psychology that propound such a doctrine. You can not counteract twenty hours (the average school week) spent in a non-religious, or perhaps anti-religious, school by one or two or five hours spent anywhere in a religious class. Education is very much a matter of environment, and impression; of atmosphere, and absorption; of example, and imitation. Education, even in a formal process, is fostered as much by indirection as by direction. As much is taught by vague suggestion as by positive instruction. As much damage is done by unmeaning omission as by culpable commission.
TO allege that there are greater temporal benefits—scientific, social or what not—to be derived from non-Catholic schooling, is faithless flippancy on the part of parents and nothing but upstart sophistication on the part of the young. Are not the treasures of religion immeasurably more valuable than the richest of secular advantages? Is not the sacred simplicity of the faith ineffably superior to the world's vainglorious complexities? It is shocking to see Christian parents pretentiously planning mere careers for their children. It is not a good living they should make, but it is a Christian life they should lead. They should not seek selfish success, but rather service of God and man, and, through such service, salvation of soul.
LOVING parents want their children to be happy. But happiness is not in the fame of a name, not in the pride of learning, not in the glory of art, not in the triumphs of science, not in the comfort of riches, not in the delights of love, not in the command of men, not in the conquest of nature. True happiness is only in the fulfillment of the soul's desire to see its God. Such is the Christian doctrine, lofty in its lowliness. "Thou hast made us unto Thee, O Lord, and my heart is restless until it reposeth in Thee."
FOR Catholic children, a Catholic education is the pre-requisite equipment for traveling the road to true happiness. That is "WHY" the Church, being our God-given guide, maintains her own schools.
---
Source: Charles A. McMahon, "The 'Why' of Catholic Schools," National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 10, no. 4 (Sept. 1928): 2.
Dangers of Modern Fashions and Social Codes for Women (1928)
[8] "THERE IS STILL ANOTHER lurking danger in connection with fashion and social codes. Our Catholic women are practically everywhere in the minority. In aspiring to social prominence, some accept prevalent standards that are manifestly unchristian. As every Catholic woman individually should be herself and stand firmly on Catholic principles, refusing absolutely to make concessions to the pagan spirit of the day, whether it be noisy, or cultured, or intriguing; so every group of Catholic women in the minority must likewise stand inflexibly against the insidious encroachments of neo-pagamism in our modern social life. This is not because we have the least desire to stand as a group apart, but because we cleary recognize that for us there can be no possible compromise where the very fundamental principles of Christian morality are at stake.
"If our Catholic women are to exercise the powerful influence that it is possible for them to exercise, they should have thought not so much of their numbers, or of political affiliations, but rather of the high and ennobling principles by which they must be guided and which are guaranteed by their divine religion. It is simply impossible for any group of women to live truly Catholic lives and to stand unalterably for basic Christian principles without influencing profoundly and permanently the community in which they live."—From Archbishop McNicholas' Sermon at the Cleveland Convention of the N. C. C. W.
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Source: "Archbishop McNicholas Points Out Dangers in Connection with Modern Fashions and Social Codes," National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 10, no. 6 (November 1928): 8.
"If our Catholic women are to exercise the powerful influence that it is possible for them to exercise, they should have thought not so much of their numbers, or of political affiliations, but rather of the high and ennobling principles by which they must be guided and which are guaranteed by their divine religion. It is simply impossible for any group of women to live truly Catholic lives and to stand unalterably for basic Christian principles without influencing profoundly and permanently the community in which they live."—From Archbishop McNicholas' Sermon at the Cleveland Convention of the N. C. C. W.
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Source: "Archbishop McNicholas Points Out Dangers in Connection with Modern Fashions and Social Codes," National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 10, no. 6 (November 1928): 8.
Duties of Catholic Women (1928)
[7] MOST REVEREND JOHN T. McNICHOLAS, Archbishop of Cincinnati, sounded the keynote of the Eighth Annual Convention for the National Council of Catholic Women when, in a sermon delivered at the Solemn Pontifical Mass at St. John's Cathedral, Cleveland, he stressed the present day need of trained leadership in all fields which Catholic women have entered, urgently insisted that Catholic women should be mindful of their civic obligations and urged constructive work in behalf of an endangered youth and the promotion of womanly modesty.
At the very beginning of his sermon, Archbishop McNicholas emphasized that the Convention has no political significance, but would be "an example of that dignity, liberality and tolerance, and that freedom from any tendency to use the organization of your Church as a political instrument, which should characterize Catholic women."
After calling attention to the fact that the day chosen for the opening of the Convention was the Feast of our Blessed Mother, under one of her most endearing titles—"Queen of the Holy Rosary," Archbishop McNicholas asked: "What are the special lessons we should learn from Mary—those that will aid in giving us the help and the inspiration to meet the conditions of our times?"
ONE of the greatest works awaiting Catholic women, he declared, is to make their influence felt upon youth. He pointed to the "incredible change" which has taken place among youth in modern times, characterized by indifference to religion and a distorted view of liberty. Liberty in its true sense, he insisted, does not mean merely a restriction which enables one to escape the penalty of the law," but "a perfecting, not a demoralizing power—a gift of God, a gift which neither the Church nor the State has the right to take away but rather has the obligation to safeguard." Much of the law-making today shows a tendency not to protect this God-given liberty of individuals, he said, but rather to exercise compulsion. He declared it the duty of mothers to teach their children a true concept of liberty—that it is not license.
"Under this false concept of liberty," His Grace continued, "the public virtue of modesty is considered as something hampering the development of young women." Christian mothers, he warned, must not leave wholly to the schools the combating of this trend.
"We must face the fact," continued the Archbishop, "that the daily press, the ephemeral literature, the sensational and too frequently suggestive moving picture, the general tone of the conversation of youth, the abuses brought about by the automobile, the immodest manner of dress now in vogue among women, the weakening of home ties and the lessening of home influence, the rejection of the wisdom and experience of the older generation, not perhaps by disrespect but by regarding it as an outworn philosophy of life not applicable to our modern times—all these necessarily make their impress on the mind and character of youth and tend to lower the ideals inculcated during their school years. Youth must be in fashion, and unfortunately at the present time pagans are dictating the fashions, not only in the matter of dress but of conduct as well. And this is the precise state of affairs which offers to Catholic women today a field in which there are exceptional opportunities of achievement.
"THERE is no doubt that women can exert a much greater influence over youth than men, but it must be wisely exercised. Mere fault-finding does no good whatever, but simply alienates those whom we wish to influence. It makes them feel that there is no sympathy for them on the part of the older generation, nor any understanding of their youthful problems. Who so well as our Catholic women, who hold our Blessed Mother as their model, can help to reestablish the sense of Christian modesty and bring about the observances of those delicacies and refinements of life—not to speak of the ordinary decencies of life—which are too little appreciated today?"
"OUR Catholic women," continued Archbishop McNicholas, "must study Mary especially as a mother. The lives of our Catholic women must be a manifest challenge to the women of the whole world with regard to the sacred obligations of marriage, and especially of Christian motherhood.
[8] "Marriage today outside the Catholic Church is reduced practically to the level of a business contract, to be terminated whenever it proves unsatisfactory to the contracting parties. The marvel is, with divorce so readily accepted in principle in our country, that public opinion has not brought about the abrogation of all official procedure leading to it. One trembles at the thought of the consequences to society when this comes about. And come it must unless Catholic women and Catholic principles are able to stem the tide of divorce, the cause of which, however much we may try to disguise the fact, is in its true analysis sensuality.
"IT is not surprising under these circumstances that the home should lose almost entirely its influence; that it should be no longer the center of true family life, where Christian virtues bear fruit, but merely a place to eat and sleep."
"Other things that are undermining the stability of the home," the Archbishop pointed out, "are the immoderate pursuit of temporal goods and the craze for pleasure. The modern world is frankly engrossed in material things, eager for power and place and for all the advantages and pleasures that go with them. There is no wish to discourage a laudable ambition to rise in the world. It is the right of every human being to acquire by industry and the proper use of God's gifts a share of all that the world has to offer, provided things be held in their true proportion, and that in the pursuit of temporal prosperity the spiritual life be not choked and deadened.
"IT is possible to acquire even great wealth and yet remain poor in spirit, recognizing ever and always that wealth means a stewardship, to be strictly accounted for, rather than personal ownership and the unrestrained indulgence of luxurious tastes. If the home is to be restored to its proper place and to exercise its divine influence, it must be through our women. Catholic women must be the leaders in this restoration. They are not called upon in an heroic degree to emulate Mary, who with the sublimest vocation ever given to a creature lived in extreme poverty in her little home in Nazareth, but they are required at least to take her as the model in the home."
WORK in which diocesan councils could well engage, with the approval of their Bishops, said His Grace, is the training of a number of Catholic young women for leadership, "and this in all fields where women are active today." Here he made a practical suggestion: That intellectual women of fine character who have completed their college course, or even girls of promise who have finished high school, be selected and given additional opportunities for study in university centers. A group of women in the diocese might unite to finance such a project, he said. After emphasizing that they should have the advantage of Catholic philosophy and the sane direction of the Church, he exclaimed:
"Who can measure what ten outstanding women who would command the attention of the whole country would mean to the Church if we had them at the present moment! What a simple task it would be for the Church, through groups of women of means in many of the principal centers, to give opportunities to intelligent, sensible, laudably ambitious Catholic women to attain eminence in the professions and in public life!"
"GREAT praise," said His Grace, "is due to the National Council of Catholic Women for the establishment of the School of Social Service at Washington. Generous patrons have helped to support it, but it deserves also the interest of every Catholic woman and the encouragement of every society of Catholic women throughout the country." [emphasis original]
In concluding his sermon, Archbishop McNicholas referred to the persecution of the Church in Mexico as follows:
"We have within recent years given our Blessed Mother the beautiful title, 'Queen of Peace.' During the World War we fervently invoked her intercession to bring about a cessation of hostilities. Shall we not now with equal fervor implore her good offices to restore to the afflicted Church of Mexico the rights of which a tyrannical government has deprived her and to deliver her from the cruel persecution from which she has long suffered. Resolve today to join the women of Mexico, your sisters in the South, in imploring the Queen of the Rosary to obtain for their unhappy country the blessings of peace and religious liberty."
When Archbishop McNicholas had concluded his sermon, Bishop Schrembs, before resuming the Mass, thanked him and declared: "You have spoken with fine poise the watchword of the Convention."
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Source: "Archbishop McNicholas Calls for Catholic Leadership: Outlines Duties of Catholic Women in Forceful Sermon at Opening of Cleveland Convention," National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 10, no. 6 (November 1928): 7–8.
At the very beginning of his sermon, Archbishop McNicholas emphasized that the Convention has no political significance, but would be "an example of that dignity, liberality and tolerance, and that freedom from any tendency to use the organization of your Church as a political instrument, which should characterize Catholic women."
After calling attention to the fact that the day chosen for the opening of the Convention was the Feast of our Blessed Mother, under one of her most endearing titles—"Queen of the Holy Rosary," Archbishop McNicholas asked: "What are the special lessons we should learn from Mary—those that will aid in giving us the help and the inspiration to meet the conditions of our times?"
ONE of the greatest works awaiting Catholic women, he declared, is to make their influence felt upon youth. He pointed to the "incredible change" which has taken place among youth in modern times, characterized by indifference to religion and a distorted view of liberty. Liberty in its true sense, he insisted, does not mean merely a restriction which enables one to escape the penalty of the law," but "a perfecting, not a demoralizing power—a gift of God, a gift which neither the Church nor the State has the right to take away but rather has the obligation to safeguard." Much of the law-making today shows a tendency not to protect this God-given liberty of individuals, he said, but rather to exercise compulsion. He declared it the duty of mothers to teach their children a true concept of liberty—that it is not license.
"Under this false concept of liberty," His Grace continued, "the public virtue of modesty is considered as something hampering the development of young women." Christian mothers, he warned, must not leave wholly to the schools the combating of this trend.
"We must face the fact," continued the Archbishop, "that the daily press, the ephemeral literature, the sensational and too frequently suggestive moving picture, the general tone of the conversation of youth, the abuses brought about by the automobile, the immodest manner of dress now in vogue among women, the weakening of home ties and the lessening of home influence, the rejection of the wisdom and experience of the older generation, not perhaps by disrespect but by regarding it as an outworn philosophy of life not applicable to our modern times—all these necessarily make their impress on the mind and character of youth and tend to lower the ideals inculcated during their school years. Youth must be in fashion, and unfortunately at the present time pagans are dictating the fashions, not only in the matter of dress but of conduct as well. And this is the precise state of affairs which offers to Catholic women today a field in which there are exceptional opportunities of achievement.
"THERE is no doubt that women can exert a much greater influence over youth than men, but it must be wisely exercised. Mere fault-finding does no good whatever, but simply alienates those whom we wish to influence. It makes them feel that there is no sympathy for them on the part of the older generation, nor any understanding of their youthful problems. Who so well as our Catholic women, who hold our Blessed Mother as their model, can help to reestablish the sense of Christian modesty and bring about the observances of those delicacies and refinements of life—not to speak of the ordinary decencies of life—which are too little appreciated today?"
"OUR Catholic women," continued Archbishop McNicholas, "must study Mary especially as a mother. The lives of our Catholic women must be a manifest challenge to the women of the whole world with regard to the sacred obligations of marriage, and especially of Christian motherhood.
[8] "Marriage today outside the Catholic Church is reduced practically to the level of a business contract, to be terminated whenever it proves unsatisfactory to the contracting parties. The marvel is, with divorce so readily accepted in principle in our country, that public opinion has not brought about the abrogation of all official procedure leading to it. One trembles at the thought of the consequences to society when this comes about. And come it must unless Catholic women and Catholic principles are able to stem the tide of divorce, the cause of which, however much we may try to disguise the fact, is in its true analysis sensuality.
"IT is not surprising under these circumstances that the home should lose almost entirely its influence; that it should be no longer the center of true family life, where Christian virtues bear fruit, but merely a place to eat and sleep."
"Other things that are undermining the stability of the home," the Archbishop pointed out, "are the immoderate pursuit of temporal goods and the craze for pleasure. The modern world is frankly engrossed in material things, eager for power and place and for all the advantages and pleasures that go with them. There is no wish to discourage a laudable ambition to rise in the world. It is the right of every human being to acquire by industry and the proper use of God's gifts a share of all that the world has to offer, provided things be held in their true proportion, and that in the pursuit of temporal prosperity the spiritual life be not choked and deadened.
"IT is possible to acquire even great wealth and yet remain poor in spirit, recognizing ever and always that wealth means a stewardship, to be strictly accounted for, rather than personal ownership and the unrestrained indulgence of luxurious tastes. If the home is to be restored to its proper place and to exercise its divine influence, it must be through our women. Catholic women must be the leaders in this restoration. They are not called upon in an heroic degree to emulate Mary, who with the sublimest vocation ever given to a creature lived in extreme poverty in her little home in Nazareth, but they are required at least to take her as the model in the home."
WORK in which diocesan councils could well engage, with the approval of their Bishops, said His Grace, is the training of a number of Catholic young women for leadership, "and this in all fields where women are active today." Here he made a practical suggestion: That intellectual women of fine character who have completed their college course, or even girls of promise who have finished high school, be selected and given additional opportunities for study in university centers. A group of women in the diocese might unite to finance such a project, he said. After emphasizing that they should have the advantage of Catholic philosophy and the sane direction of the Church, he exclaimed:
"Who can measure what ten outstanding women who would command the attention of the whole country would mean to the Church if we had them at the present moment! What a simple task it would be for the Church, through groups of women of means in many of the principal centers, to give opportunities to intelligent, sensible, laudably ambitious Catholic women to attain eminence in the professions and in public life!"
"GREAT praise," said His Grace, "is due to the National Council of Catholic Women for the establishment of the School of Social Service at Washington. Generous patrons have helped to support it, but it deserves also the interest of every Catholic woman and the encouragement of every society of Catholic women throughout the country." [emphasis original]
In concluding his sermon, Archbishop McNicholas referred to the persecution of the Church in Mexico as follows:
"We have within recent years given our Blessed Mother the beautiful title, 'Queen of Peace.' During the World War we fervently invoked her intercession to bring about a cessation of hostilities. Shall we not now with equal fervor implore her good offices to restore to the afflicted Church of Mexico the rights of which a tyrannical government has deprived her and to deliver her from the cruel persecution from which she has long suffered. Resolve today to join the women of Mexico, your sisters in the South, in imploring the Queen of the Rosary to obtain for their unhappy country the blessings of peace and religious liberty."
When Archbishop McNicholas had concluded his sermon, Bishop Schrembs, before resuming the Mass, thanked him and declared: "You have spoken with fine poise the watchword of the Convention."
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Source: "Archbishop McNicholas Calls for Catholic Leadership: Outlines Duties of Catholic Women in Forceful Sermon at Opening of Cleveland Convention," National Catholic Welfare Council Bulletin 10, no. 6 (November 1928): 7–8.
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