“You go forth from an institution long honored for its learning, its high moral character, its noble charities, which have been bestowed in the best possible way—mental enlightenment, and its watchful sympathy for its learned children spread all over the land. The fathers of that institution expect much from you, and they will be ever ready to accord to you every possible encouragement. Your immediate instructors in your profession
cannot fail to feel for you the deepest interest.”
Surely the gist of the above is that the graduates who “stand upon the threshold of their profession, holding passes to enter the great arena”—as Mr. Daly has so happily expressed it in his valedictory on the same occasion—must bear imprinted on their brows the parting kiss of their Alma Mater.
Now, if bonum ex integrâ causâ, malum ex quocumque defectu, everything in a collegiate course must tend to give the graduate a Catholic individuality in the world of science and of letters.
And here it is that we cannot fail to admire the great wisdom of the Holy Father, who, when the question of classics in the Catholic schools began to be mooted, ex professo and in earnest, would not sanction a total and blind exclusion of the pagan classics—for that would be obscurantism—but advised the use of the classics, with a proviso that the rich wells of Christian classicism should not be passed by.
Then it cannot be gainsaid that the use of pagan classics is necessary in the curriculum of belles-lettres, just as, if we may be allowed the comparison, the study of the sacred books is indispensable to the student of divinity; although even in Holy Writ there are passages which should not be wantonly read, and much less commented upon.
And here we must differ from the admirable letter of Dr. Engbers, who certainly is at home on the subject and makes some excellent points. He avers that it is neither possible nor necessary “to prepare Catholic books for the whole extent of a college education.”
For brevity’s sake we shall not give his reasons, but shall limit
ourselves to our own views on the subject.
In the first place, it is necessary to prepare text-books of the classics for our schools. For, surely, we cannot trust to the scholar’s hand Horace, or Ovid, or even Virgil, as they came from their authors; and this on the score of morality. Secondly, we have no hesitation in saying that we do not possess as yet a single Latin classic (to speak of Latin alone) so prepared to meet all the requirements of the youthful student. We may almost challenge contradiction when we assert that, in all such editions as are prepared for American schools, the passages really difficult are skipped over. True, it is many years since we had an opportunity of examining such works thoroughly; but from what we knew then, and have looked into lately, we find no reason for a change of opinion. The work of such editions is perfunctorily done. The commentators, annotators, or whatsoever other name they may go by, seem to have only aimed at doing a certain amount of work somewhat à la penny-a-liner; but nothing seems to be done con amore, and much less according to thorough knowledge. Let our readers point to one annotator or editor of any poet adopted in American schools who is truly æsthetic in his labors.