# Jesuit Education/Chapter 20

Contents
Chapter XX.
The Teacher's Motives and Ideals.
The teacher's life is a most arduous one. Like that of the scholar and scientist it presents few attractions. It has none of the external brilliant dramatic quality that makes the soldier's and stateman's career attractive, and as its material remuneration is relatively scanty, and the chance of promotion to a lucrative position is almost excluded, it can make little impression on an age whose watchwords are exterior success and material progress. Still, the teacher's mission is one of the greatest importance while touched with sublimity. It is in a way a "priestly" office, for the material on which the teacher works is the mind, the immortal soul of man; his object is truly "sacerdotal," namely to consecrate these souls to their Creator, to make them more God-like in wisdom and moral goodness. The teacher is also entrusted with the destinies of society; the children and youths whom he now trains will one day be the heads of families, the parents of a new generation, the men that powerfully influence public opinion for good or ill, in the press and from the platform, the citizens whose vote will make or mar their country. Surely, this is a profession that deserves the enthusiasm of noble hearts and the absorbing interest of the ablest minds. ​In the case of the Jesuit teacher there can be no question of a material compensation. What he needs for his sustenance is furnished by the Order; beyond this he seeks no earthly reward. In this all members of the Order are equally situated: the professor of philosophy and the teacher of the lowest grammar class, the President of the college, and the lay brother who acts as porter. What, then, are the motives that inspire him to undergo willingly and cheerfully the labors and trials of his profession? They are in the first place the consideration of the utility and the dignity of his calling. He is convinced that teaching is a grand and noble profession. St. Gregory Nazianzen says: "There is nothing more God-like than to benefit others;" and what benefit can be greater than that of education, as we have described it in previous chapters: the making of man, the harmonious development of all his faculties, the fitting him for best performing the duties of this life and the preparing him for the life to come? Is not this thought a reward as well as a powerful incentive for the teacher to exert himself most strenuously in his sublime vocation?
The Jesuits Sacchini and Jouvancy have written some beautiful passages on this subject. Their comparisons may seem to some far-fetched or even fantastic, but they will appear natural and appropriate to every person who views things in the light of the teaching of the Great Master. These two Jesuits say that the school may be considered as a garden, a nursery, in which the choicest trees and flowers are ​cultivated, plants whose saplings are not brought from the tropics, but from heaven, whither they are again to be transplanted, when fully grown. They are, under the tender and prudent care of the teacher, to yield abundant fruit of virtues, of human and divine wisdom. They are to become the ornaments of Church, State and society. They are the plants of which the Son of Sirach said: "Hear me, ye divine offspring and bud forth as the rose planted by the brooks of waters, give ye a sweet odor as frankincense. Send forth flowers, as the lily, and bring forth leaves in grace." In this garden the teacher, like him "who sowed the good seed," has to sow and to plant by instruction, to dig and to water by practice and exercise, to weed and to prune by salutary admonition, to fence and restrain by wise regulations. Besides, the virtuous example of the teacher combined with cheerfulness in performing all his duties, will be the atmosphere in which the plants grow wonderfully. However, the husbandman can plant and water, but not prevent storms and hail and frost and drought, and, therefore, implores heaven's protection for his fields; so the teacher must see the necessity of divine blessing for his class, a grace which will be given to humble and fervent prayer.
The teacher may consider himself the shepherd of the tender lambs of the flock of Christ. The children, in a special sense, may be called the lambs of Christ's flock. The teacher's duty is to feed them, to lead them to the wholesome pasture and to the clear springs of divine and human knowledge. He must ​protect them against the wolves, especially those that "are clothed in sheepskins," that come in the garb of agnostic and infidel science, or in the glittering dress of pernicious reading. He must protect his flock without sparing himself, not fly from dangers and exertions like the hireling, but must be ready to "give his life for his sheep," that means, he must sacrifice himself, devote all his time and strength to his class. He should "go before his sheep" by his good example, attract them by kindness and meekness, that they may "know his voice and follow him, and fly not from him as from a stranger whose voice they know not."
Again, is not the teacher to be compared to a sculptor, or a painter? We admire the masterpieces of Phidias, Praxiteles, Lysippus, of Michael Angelo and Raphael. And yet, the teacher's art is far nobler. Those artists produced likenesses of marble or bronze, likenesses that are cold and lifeless, whereas the teacher is working at living statues. Those artists could produce only exterior likenesses of men or of superior beings; the teacher shapes the innermost nature of man. Nay, more, the Christian teacher endeavors to bring out more beautifully the image of God. Christ, the true teacher of mankind is his ideal and model. In prayer and meditation on the life of Christ, he studies line after line of him to whom he applies the words of the royal prophet: "Thou art beautiful above the sons of men, grace is poured abroad in thy lips. With thy comeliness and beauty set out, proceed prosperously and reign." ​Having grasped this beauty he tries to express in his own character, and then to embody in the hearts of his pupils that heavenly beauty of purity, humility, meekness and charity which shines forth from every word and action of the God-man. Thus he is making real living pictures of Christ, which for all eternity shall be ornaments in heaven, the trophies of the labors and struggles of the zealous teacher. And whereas the greatest artist can work only at one statue or picture at the same time, the teacher is working on as many as he has auditors.
The teacher is an architect; he does not build merely a splendid city hall, nor a national capitol, nor even a cathedral of stone or marble: he builds up those living temples, of which St. Paul speaks: "Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?"
The teacher is the tutor of the sons of the Most High. King Philip of Macedon chose Aristotle as preceptor to his son Alexander, an office which the great philosopher discharged for many years. The letter which Philip wrote to invite Aristotle, is said to have been couched in the following terms: "Be informed that I have a son, and that I am thankful to the gods not so much for his birth as that he was born in the same age with you; for if you will undertake the charge of his education, I assure myself that he will become worthy of his father and of the kingdom which he will inherit." King Philip's hope was not disappointed. His son, Alexander the Great, became one of the greatest figures in human history, and his success is partly due to his great teacher. At all times ​it was a much coveted honor to be the tutor to the sons of Emperors, Kings, Princes, and other high personages. Is not every Christian teacher tutor to the sons of the King of Kings? St. John says: "Behold, what manner of charity the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called and should be the sons of God."
Lastly, the teacher should consider himself the representative and successor of Christ in his love for his children. No feature in the life of the Teacher of mankind is more fascinating than his love for children. The Gospels commemorate a scene of unspeakable tenderness and sweetness. "Then little children were brought to him that he might touch them." He does not bless them together, but lays his hands on every child, and takes one after the other in his arms. From this scene Christian teachers must learn an important lesson: love and reverence for children. Indeed, princes of heaven are appointed their guardians, and the teacher should be like them in watchful care for the young. This care is all the more necessary as the teacher in higher schools has to do with the young when the first and most attractive chapter of their history is already over, at the time when the storms of temptations rage most furiously in their hearts. With Christ's love for children must frequently be united the good Samaritan's compassion and anxious solicitude for the wayfarer who fell among the robbers. Frequently enough there is sad need of the teacher's fatherly care, not only in the ​case of the children of the poor but also of the rich. Some wealthy parents pride themselves that they do all in their power to procure for their children the best possible education, from the best instructors in elocution, music, gymnastics, etc., and yet that which above all is education – moral and religious training – is sadly neglected, owing to the indifference that pervades the family life. In consequence of this neglect of the most important part of education, it has happened that many a man ended his life in disgrace and wretchedness whose childhood was spent among the luxuries of a splendid home. Fortunate is the youth who is placed under the tutelage of teachers who endeavor to counteract the baneful influences of a neglected or ill-directed home training. These considerations explain the anxious care and strenuous exertions of religious teachers to promote the moral training of their charges. They realize that now is the spring-time of life when the good seed must be sown, if a rich harvest is to be hoped for in the autumn. They know that now their work is most useful, most promising of success. Now the pupil's nature is docile and pliable as wax. And if it were hard as marble, still the material is not yet spoiled and may be shaped into a beautiful statue, and it should not be forgotten, of the hardest marble the most endurable statues are made, though with greater care and labor. Similarly the most stubborn and headstrong of boys, under patient and prudent guidance, often develop into the finest character of manhood.
To the Jesuit these considerations furnish powerful incentives, the motives which inspire him in all his work. St. Ignatius, in calling his Order the ​Society of Jesus, wished to impress it forcibly on the minds of his sons that they were to endeavor to imitate him whose name they bear, especially in his zeal for the glory of his Father and the welfare of men. Indeed, other educators may take as their guides and ideals Spencer, or Rousseau, or Kant, or Pestalozzi, or Herbart – the Jesuits' guide and ideal is Christ. Him they are told to imitate in his devotion to his life-work, in his all-embracing zeal, in his patience and meekness. In education they behold a participation in the work of the Great Master, that work whose end and object it is to make men truly wise, good, and God-like, and thereby to lead them to true happiness. Can there be a nobler, a loftier work, a holier mission on earth?
When the teacher thus reflects on the dignity of his work, and on its necessity and utility for the individual, the family, the State and the Church, can he ever become tired and disgusted with it? Are all these considerations not most encouraging, and do they not constitute one of the rewards of the teacher? He may truly say with the sacred writer: "Wisdom I have learned without guile and communicate without envy and her riches I hide not," and again: "I have not labored for myself alone, but for all who seek discipline." Such thoughts may well inspire a man with love and enthusiasm for this profession. To the Jesuit the educational work is a labor of love. We read that in the seventeenth century, in the period ​of witch panic, some Protestant writers charged the Jesuits with using secret charms in order to attach the pupils to themselves and to advance them in learning. Indeed, the Jesuits as educators have a spell, and make no secret of it, but they will be glad if others wish to borrow it. This spell is nothing but ardent devotion to their work, a devotion which springs from the conviction of the importance and usefulness of their work. This devotion is their strongest motive to action and it urges them to use all the resources within their reach.
Although the teacher does not seek himself in his work, nevertheless he labors also for himself. What better compensation can there be than the thought of performing so important a work, the conviction that through his instrumentality noble characters are formed, that some youths are preserved in their innocence and others led back from evil paths on which they had trodden in their ignorance and levity? The teacher may not receive much recognition and gratitude for his efforts – youths do not reflect on the debts they owe to a zealous teacher –, nor is it this that he is looking for in his labors. However, some pupils will show their thankfulness by a lifelong affection for their former master. If one wishes to know with what reverence, devotion, and frequently with what attachment Jesuit pupils regard their teachers, let him read the biographies of Jesuit educators. The letters written by former pupils sufficiently testify to the impressions made by their religious teachers.
If one wishes to see beautiful specimens of the relation of Jesuit pupils to their teachers, he may read ​the biography of Father Alexis Clerc, who left the French Navy to become a Jesuit and professor of mathematics and was shot by the Communards in Paris 1871.
But it is rather the success of his pupils over which the teacher rejoices, than their tribute of gratitude. An incident is related of the life of Father Bonifacio, a distinguished Jesuit teacher of the Old Society, who for more than forty years taught the classics. One day he was visited by his brother, a professor in a university, whom he had not seen for many years. When the professor heard that the Father had spent all the years of his life in the Society in teaching Latin and Greek to young boys, he exclaimed: "You have wasted your great talents in such inferior work! I expected to find you at least a professor of philosophy or theology. What have you done that this post is assigned to you?" Father Bonifacio quietly opened a little book, and showed him the list of hundreds of pupils whom he had taught, many of whom occupied high positions in Church or State, or in the world of business. Pointing at their names, the Father said with a pleasant smile: "The success which my pupils have achieved is to me a far sweeter reward than any honor which I might have ​obtained in the most celebrated university of the kingdom."
Not all teachers may have the consolation of seeing their pupils in high positions. It happens that the best efforts of a devoted teacher seem to be lost on many pupils. Even this will not discourage the religious teacher. He will remember that his model, Jesus Christ, did not reap the fruit which might have been expected from the teaching of such a Master. Not all that he sowed brought forth fruit, a hundredfold, not even thirtyfold. Some fell upon stony ground, and some other fell among the thorns, and yet he went on patiently sowing. So a teacher ought not to be disheartened if the success should not correspond with his labors. He knows that one reward is certainly in store for him, the measure of which will not be his success, but his zeal; not the fruit, but his efforts. The Great Master has promised that "whosoever shall give to drink to one of these little ones a cup of cold water, he shall not lose his reward." What, then, may he expect, who has given the little ones of Christ not a cup of cold water, but with great patience and labor has opened to them the streams of knowledge, human and divine? Indeed, "they that instruct many to justice shall shine as stars for all eternity."
Conclusion.
We have examined the educational system of the Jesuits in its various aspects, its history and its principles, its theory and practice, its aims and means. There are few of its principles which have not been censured by some of its opponents. But we have also seen that there is hardly one principle in it which has not been heartily recommended by most distinguished educators, Protestants as well as Catholics. We have seen that on many lines there is, at present, a decided return to what the Jesuits defended and practised all along. Can it then be said in justice that the Jesuit system is antiquated and that little can be hoped for it, and from its principles, in the improvement of education at present? Or can it be said with a modern writer that "the regulations of the Jesuit system of studies, viewed in the light of modern requirements, need not shun any comparison, and the pedagogical wisdom contained therein, is in no way antiquated"? Another writer declared a few years ago, with reference to modern school systems: "Those now living may desire that in the new much of the old may be preserved which has proved of benefit." May it not be said that much, very much, of the Jesuit system should be preserved, and that many of its principles and regulations could, with best advantage, be followed in the education of the present day? We leave ​it to the impartial reader to pass judgment. It is true that in our times Jesuit education is not viewed with favor by the many. To some it is too religious, too "clerical;" to others it appears old-fashioned. For this reason it is not popular; popular favor is never bestowed on what seems old. It is the novelty that attracts, and the bolder the innovations, the more captivating for the large majority of the people. This is as true now as it was 2600 years ago when old Homer sang:
And yet the novel songs are not always the best. – As to the Jesuits, they know full well that there are not many who will take the trouble to investigate thoroughly their educational system, in order to pass a fair and independent judgment on its merit, but that there are many who will content themselves with repeating the verdict passed on this system by others who were either ignorant of its true character, or were misled in their estimates by prejudice. Hence the Jesuits do not expect that the misrepresentations of their system will ever cease; their experience of three hundred years has taught them not to entertain such sanguine hopes. On the other hand, this same experience has taught them another valuable lesson, namely, not to be disheartened by the antipathy and opposition of those who do not know them, but to continue their efforts to realize, to the best of their ability, in the education of Catholic youth that which they have chosen as their motto: The greater glory of God, and the welfare of their fellow-men.
* ↑ See Brownson's Review, 1860, pp. 303 and 314.
* ↑ Migne, Patrologia Graeca, vol. XXXV, 892.
* ↑ Sacchini, Paraenesis, art. 5, no. 1-2.
* ↑ Ecclesiasticus 39, 17 sq.
* ↑ Sacchini, Paraenesis, art. 5, no. 3.
* ↑ John 10, 4. 5. 11.
* ↑ Sacchini, Protrepticon, Part I, art. 8.
* ↑ Psalm 44, 3 sq.
* ↑ 1. Cor. 3, 16.
* ↑ Sacchini, Protrepticon, Part I, art. 12.
* ↑ 1 John 3, 1.
* ↑ Mark 10, 13.
* ↑ On the "Pedagogy of Our Lord" there is a beautiful article by Father Meschler, S. J., in the Stimmen aus Maria-Laach, vol. 38, 1890, p. 265 foll.
* ↑ The Book of Wisdom 7, 13.
* ↑ Ecclesiasticus 33, 18.
* ↑ See above pp. 147-148.
* ↑ Alexis Clerc, Sailor and Martyr, New York, Sadlier, 1879. See especially chap. XII: "Father Clerc and his pupils." It may be interesting to add that the American edition of this biography is dedicated to the memory of Father Andrew Monroe, S. J. (grand-nephew of President Monroe), officer in the American Navy and a convert to the Catholic faith, who, after spending his religious life, like his friend Father Clerc, chiefly in the humble duties of a professor, died at St. Francis Xavier College, New York, 1871.
* ↑ Matth. 10, 42.
* ↑ Daniel 12, 3.
* ↑ See especially chapter XVI.
* ↑ See above p. 288.
* ↑ Dr. Nohle of Berlin, in the Report of the Commissioner of Education, 1897-1898, vol. I, p. 82.