Of course repetition is allowable and, if rightly used, a beauty. In Homer Juno is always “white-armed,” Venus “ox-eyed,” Apollo “far-darting,” Agamemnon a “king of men,” Achilles “swift-footed,” the dawn “rosy-fingered,” the sea “hoarse-resounding,” and so on. But we need not dwell on the point that this is a very different kind of repetition from that in Deirdrè, which is faulty and tiresome in the extreme.
The defects we have pointed out are such as might have been easily avoided by care in the supervision. As it is, they seriously mar a work of real power, much promise, and undeniable beauty.
Religion and Education. By the very Rev. Thomas S. Preston, V.G. New York: Robert Coddington. 1876.
There is much matter for thought and reflection in this pamphlet of forty-six pages. It treats of what is now an old subject, yet a subject about which new issues are constantly being raised, not only in this country but all the world over. And as the subject is far from being settled, and is likely so to remain for some time to come, one cannot but welcome the observations and pronounced
expression of such a mind as that of the distinguished author regarding a vital question of this and all countries and of all time. The question of education has been treated time and again in these pages. Indeed, many of the articles which have appeared in The Catholic World have been collected and published in book-form (Catholics and Education), and combined make an excellent treatise in defence of Catholic education as opposed to the popular objections of non-Catholics. Father Preston necessarily travels over old ground here, but with a freshness, vigor, and clearness of statement and exposition that will amply repay the reader. His lecture—for such it was—bears all the marks of a strong and trained mind, fully alive to the difficulties that beset the vexed question of which he treats, yet of one who knows exactly where strength ends and extravagance begins. There is, perhaps, no question to-day more open to extravagant demands and declamation on both sides than this of education. The tendency of the times regarding it is in a radically wrong direction. Hot words will not mend matters, but calm reason, such as this pamphlet affords, will in the long run tell. To sincere and rightly-instructed Catholics there is no question at all in the matter. Education is as much a subject of religious discipline as is the guiding of a man’s life, and to banish God from the school is no more justifiable than to banish him from the church or the home. No Catholic dare say to God: We will admit you here, but not there. At the same time we must take into serious account the opinions of men who, having practically lost faith, cannot be expected to look upon everything in the same light as ourselves. More especially is this the case in a country like our own, where all things are still more or less in a state of formation. It is very certain that the Fathers of this Republic, to whom in our emergencies we often vaguely appeal, never dreamed that the whole machinery of a republic which, in its present vastness, power, and future import, could scarcely have flashed even on their happiest dreams, would be perfectly adjusted in a century. We must make the best of things as they exist, work earnestly, untiringly, and hopefully to make them still better, but not slap the whole world in the face for the poor satisfaction
of the slap. Father Preston is an excellent guide in this matter. There is not a waste word in all that he says. He has a reason, and gives it, for every statement, and he strengthens his position by the testimony of honored men among those opposed to him. It is strange that this country should be behind every other civilized nation in the fair adjustment of the educational question. They do the best they can for all denominations; we seem to have one predominating idea—to wit, that Catholic children, so far as the States can prevent it without absolute force, shall not have the right of Catholic education. Education is not and never can be a purely abstract affair as regards religion. It must have some informing moral principle, which will be right or wrong according to circumstances. Catholics refuse, on their conscience, to have any doubt about the matter. Others may do as they think fit under a government which professes to respect absolute freedom of conscience. Their freedom of conscience recognizes and claims education for their children in the spirit of their faith. To deny this is coercion. To make them contribute to a system of education based on its denial is coercion and extortion. To see how fully enlightened Protestants and enlightened governments uphold this view, we can recommend nothing better in a brief form than the pages of this admirable pamphlet.
Wit, Humor, and Shakspeare. Twelve Essays. By John Weiss. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1876.
There could be no better proof of the large tolerance of literary charlatanism by the American public than that a shrewd Boston firm should in such times as the present consent to publish a book like this. Mr. Weiss evidently has nothing to say which can be of interest to a sensible man, and his style is as bad as his thought. His chief aim, it would appear, is to be odd, unnatural, and barbarous. Like the clown in the circus, he hopes to amuse us by his antics, if not by his wit. But fantastic and affected phraseology cannot hide poverty or barrenness of thought. If a man has nothing to say, grimaces only make him ridiculous in the eyes of the judicious. It would seem, too, that the author is under the delusion that he may succeed in making us believe that he means something by striving
to render it as difficult as possible to find out what he means. Here are specimens of his style: “The life-breaths of joy and grief tend primitively to the lungs, and they voice the mother-tongue of all emotions.” “What a wide range of nature’s curious freakery a forest has!” “Only those who are capable of annihilating capricious distinctions by feelings of common humanness are capable of enjoying the union of heterogeneous ideas.”
It is Mr. Weiss’ great misfortune to believe that he is witty; and the attempts which reveal this deep conviction might indeed make us laugh, if they did not make us grieve.