confessional are mainly responsible. In these novels by Jesuit pupils
in revolt, the abuses of the confessional in the training of boys are
clearly indicated, and though these abuses are considerably diminished in
the case of secular priests, I still have no faith in the discretion of
the good Fathers of Stanislas.
When I was present at the distribution of prizes at the Sorbonne, a very
imposing spectacle, the display of Stanislas was that of a charming,
well-bred group of French lads, but behind each I saw the spectre of
dissimulation, the insidious suggestion of the “priestly Father,” and
the glory of the Church to the detriment of the State, the significant,
inalterable law of Catholicity, that the triumph of good is the
justification of evil, and that the law of Christ is less important than
the maintenance of sacerdotal prestige and power. I looked attentively
at those boys, and asked myself what the value of such training could
be for them. For the priests who have educated them, they represent so
many prized instruments against the Republic, and possibly so many future
souls in paradise. But they themselves? When the present fashionable
craze for mere “exterior” Catholicity—which is nothing more than an
exasperated revolt against foreign influences, on a level, in the record
of modern civilisation, with the outbreak of the Boxers of China—shall
have exhausted itself, many of the lads will be mediocre freethinkers;
the greater part will be what are euphemistically called “non-practical
Catholics,” that is, men who are not expected to go to Mass of a Sunday
in the shooting season, because it interferes with their sport; who
regard confession as a distraction for women; who allow neither God nor
the devil to stand between them and the most shameless vices, but who are
married and buried by the ritual of Holy Mother, the Church, and whose
friends, after their death, piously contemplate them aloft, wreathed and
winged, playing harps and chanting hymns, who in life never listened with
pleasure to any but ribald songs and unedifying verse.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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