Our sketch would be incomplete were we to leave unnoticed the daily life of the Brothers of the Christian Schools, which exhibits their profession put into practice.
The Brothers rise at half-past four; read the Imitation until a quarter to five, followed by prayer and meditation until Mass, at six, after which they attend to official work until breakfast, at a quarter-past seven; at half-past seven the rosary is said, and the classes commence at eight; catechism at eleven, examination at half-past; at a quarter to twelve dinner, after which is a short recreation. At one o’clock prayers and rosary; classes recommence at half-past one. Official work at five; at half-past five preparation of the catechism; spiritual reading at six; at half-past six meditation; at seven supper and recreation; at half-past eight evening prayers; at nine the Brothers retire to bed; and at a quarter-past nine the lights are extinguished, and there is perfect silence.
After having been for twenty-five years established in the Rue du Faubourg St. Martin the Brothers had to make way for the building of the Station of the Eastern Railway (Gare de l’Est), and after long search found a suitable house in the Rue Plumet, now Rue Oudinot, which they purchased, and of which they took possession, as the mother-house of the institute, in the early part of 1847.
On entering this house it is at once evident that rule and order preside there. All the employments, even to the post of concièrge, or door-keeper, are carried on by the Brothers, each one of whom is engaged in his appointed duty. The first court, called the Procure, presents a certain amount of movement and activity from its relations with the world outside. The second court, which is the place for recreations, and which leads into the interior, is much more spacious and planted with trees. It was in these alleys that Brother Philip was accustomed to walk during his few moments of repose, conversing with one of the Brothers or readily listening to any of the youngest little novices who might address him.
The Salle du Régime, or Chamber of Government, is a marvel in the perfection of its arrangements. The superior-general is there at his post, the assistants also; the place of each occupying but a small space and on the same line. Each has his straw-seated chair, his bureau, and papers; the chair of the superior differing in no way from the rest. On each bureau is a small case, marked with its ticket, indicating the countries placed under the particular direction of the Brother assistant to whom it belongs. There are to be found all the countries to which the schools of the institute have been extended, from the cities of France and of Europe to the most distant regions of the habitable globe. Little cards in little drawers represent the immensity of the work. Everything is ruled, marked, classified, in such a manner as to take up the smallest amount of space possible; as if in all things these servants of God endeavored to occupy no more room in this world than was absolutely necessary. “We have seen,” writes M. Poujoulat, “in the Salle du Régime, the place which had been occupied by Brother Philip; his straw-seated chair and simple bureau, upon which stood a small image of the Blessed Virgin, for which he had a particular affection, and one of S. Peter, given to him at Rome. From this unpretending throne he governed all the houses of his order in France, Belgium, Italy, Asia, and the New World, and hither letters daily reached him from all countries. He wrote much; and his letters had the brevity and precision of one accustomed to command. The secretariate occupies ten Brothers, and, notwithstanding its variety and extent, nothing is complicated or irregular in this well-ordered administration.
“We visited, as we should visit a sanctuary, the cell of Brother Philip, and there saw his hard bed and deal bedstead, over which hung his crucifix.… A few small prints on the walls were the only luxury he allowed himself.… Some class-books ranged on shelves, a chair, a bureau, and a cupboard (the latter still containing the few articles of apparel which he had worn), … compose the whole of the furniture. How often the hours which he so needed (physically) to have passed in sleep had Brother Philip spent at this desk or kneeling before his crucifix, laying his cares and responsibilities before God, to whom, in this same little chamber, when the long day’s toil was ended, he offered up his soul!”
In another room, that of the venerable Brother Calixtus, may be seen the documents relating to the beatification of the Abbé de la Salle, bearing a seal impressed with the device of the congregation—Signum Fidei. Besides thirty-five autograph letters of the founder and the form of profession of the members, there are here the bulls of approbation accorded by Pope Benedict XIII. in 1725, and the letters-patent granted the previous year by Louis XV. In a room called the Chamber of Relics are preserved various sacred vestments and other objects which had belonged to the venerable De la Salle. The chapel is at present a temporary construction.
The mother-house comprises the two novitiates and a normal school appropriated solely to the perfecting of the younger masters. It is from the little novices that the Brothers select the children of the choir. To see these twenty-five or thirty little fellows on great festivals, in alb and red cassock, swinging censers or scattering flowers before the Blessed Sacrament, amid the rich harmonies of the organ and the church’s sacred chant, was Brother Philip’s especial delight; he seemed to see in them, as it were, a little battalion of angels offering their innocent homage to the hidden God.
If order forms one part of the permanent spirit of the institute, so also does the practice of poverty; but it is holy poverty, tranquil and cheerful. Self-denial is the foundation of all that is seen there, but so also are propriety and suitability. The life of the Brothers is austere, but by no means gloomy; on the contrary, one of their prevailing characteristics is a cheerful equanimity, which seems never to forsake them. Nothing useless is permitted in any of the houses. “We must not,” wrote Brother Agathon in 1787, “allow anything which may habitually or without good reason turn aside the Brothers from the exercises of the community or trouble their tranquillity; such things, for instance, as fancy dogs, birds, the culture of flowers, shrubs, or curious plants.” And these regulations have been faithfully observed.
This the mother-house, in the Rue Oudinot, is the centre of government to the numerous establishments of the institute spread over the earth; it is, in fact, their little capital, from whence the superior-general and his assistants, like the monarch and parliament of a constitutional kingdom, exercise a wise and beneficent dominion.