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Vol. XXX. NOTRE DAME, INDIANA, October 3, 1896. No. 4.
Hills of Home.
JAMES BARRY, 97.
LUE hills of home,
1 Where’er I roam
The memory hovers round me day and night,
Of fair blue-bells.
The -honeyed wells
Where bees do love to linger with delight;
That shady slope
Which bleating flocks surveyed.
Dear hills, my hope
Is soon to wander in your shade!
Grey cloud-tipped peaks,
My fancy seeks
To probe the secrets that surround each crest,
To soar beyond,
• In regions fond,
All heavy cares, that crush the human breast.
My memory steals
Me back to that loved home;
My fancy feels
Ecstatic as it whispers “Come!”
James Clarence Mangan.
JOHN A. MCNAMARA, ’9 7.
N the cemetery of Glasnevin, on
.the northern confines of Dublin,
'where O’Connell, Curran, Parnell
and many another brilliant and
patriotic Irishman sleeps his
last sleep, lies the body of one
who is generally ''conceded to
be. the greatest of Ireland’s
poets. Without stone or monument to mark
his last abode, he sleeps the sleep that knows
no waking, forgotten* by all save a few of his
own countrymen and lovers of good literature.
James Clarence Mangan was born in Dublin
in 1S03. Of his early life little is known. He
went to school until he was fifteen, at which
age he obtained a situation in a scrivener’s
office, where he remained for seven years.
Afterward he became a solicitor’s clerk, which
position he held for three years. Of this period
in his life the poet says: “I was obliged to
work seven years of the ten, from five in the
morning, winter and summer, to eleven at night;
and during the remaining three years, noth-
ing but a special providence could have saved
me from suicide. The misery of my own mind,
my natural tendency to loneliness, poetry and
self-analysis, the disgusting' obscenities and
horrible blasphemies of those associated with
me, the persecutions I was obliged to endure,
and which I never avenged but by acts; of
kindness, the close air of the room aridwthe
perpetual smoke of the chimney — all these
destroyed my constitution. No! I am .wrong:
it was not even all these that destroyed ‘me. In
seeking to escape from this misery, I had laid
the foundation of that evil habit which has
proved to be my ruin.”
From his own words we can easily see what
misery and pain he must have endured during
those ten long years; and we can appreciate it
all the more when we know that he suffered all
this mental anguish and torment in order to
support his mother, brother and sister.. No
wonder that he never looked back upon this,
portion of his life without shuddering and
horror, for it was then that he contracted that
love for brandy and craving for opium, which
laid him low in the grave when he should have
been in the prime of life and in the full fire
of his genius. Yet it must have been during
these ten terrible years that he acquired the
greater part, if not all, of that wide and varied
learning which he possessed. I can imagine
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
him, as far into the night he pored over his •
books by the light of a candle, but I cannot
appreciate sufficiently the perseverance and
determination which enabled the poor, weary
toiler of the day to spend sleepless nights in
For some years after Mangan had left the
order to satisfy his cravings for knowledge,
attorney’s office, there is a period in his life
of which . comparatively little is known; and
when we next see him it is but the wreck of
his former self which appears to us. The
bright-eyed youth has become a decrepit,
stricken-down old man. It is said, however,
that during this time Mangan fell in love and
was disappointed. John Mitchel, who wrote
his biograph)'-, says of him about this time:
“ From several obscure indications it is plain
that in one at least of the great branches of
education he had run through his curriculum
regularly; he had loved and was deceived.”
In this statement, however, I think that Mr.
Mitchel was wrong, for Father C. P. Meehan,
the kind priest who attended Mangan in his
last hours, and who undoubtedly knew the poet
better than any other man at the time, says
that Mangan was never in love. Hence this
could not have been the disappointment which
affected his whole after-life.
Be that as it may, Mangan had passed through
the greatest crisis of his life. What that crisis
• was we know not; but we do know that the
poet in passing through it became a changed
man, and never again recovered his health or
strength of body.
By this time his writings had won for him
• many friends, but shy and sensitive as he was
he avoided them all. Through their influence
he was appointed to a position in the Library
of Dublin University, and here, in a position
for which he was eminently fitted, he dragged
out the remainder of his wretched life. His
evil habits became stronger and stronger and
little by little sapped and undermined his
constitution, till at last the end came. He died
June 20, 1849, an d may God grant that his
troubled spirit has found the repose and quiet
for which it had so long sought!
We have given this short sketch of Mangan’s
life, in order to acquaint the reader with our
poet; but we have only, sketched the life of
Mangan the man. His. inner or truer life yet
remains, and that we can read in his works. He
really lived in his poetry, and his outward life
was but a living death. His great soul knew
' no bounds, could be restrained by no shackles,
and, borne on the golden wings of liis fancy, it
soared aloft into the empyrean, and wandered
at will over the fairy worlds of his imagination.
He was a true poet; there was nothing mechan-
ical about him, and everything he wrote came
from his heart. He evinces a depth of feeling
which we see in no other Irish poet.
Mangan was a scholar; but how or whence
he acquired his knowledge we cannot deter-
mine, other than that he acquired it himself.
A thorough classical scholar, he was versed
in Spanish, French and German, “arid he roved
at will through the glowing garden of their
As a poet Clarence Mangan has been
greatly underrated. This was, no doubt, due
to the fact that, unlike Moore or Mahoney,
he never catered to the English publishers.
He never wrote a poem or an article except
for the patriotic Irish papers, and he always
treated the English booksellers and press with
scorn and contempt, not deigning even to
notice them. On this account he lacked that
advertising, at which we must confess the
British publishers are so clever;, consequently
it is only of late that due praise and attention
have been given to his genius. Of a modest
and retiring disposition, he became but little
known even in his own land, and many an
inferior poet held the place in the family
household which belonged to Mangan.
But now circumstances have changed, and
Mangan has become dear to every Irish heart.
Truly did Mitchel say: “I have never yet met
a cultivated Irishman or woman of genuine
Irish nature who did not cherish Clarence
Mangan above all the poets that their island
of song ever nursed.” To show how great the
interest taken in Mangan is at present, we
merely mention the fact that Miss Louise
Imogen Guiney is busily engaged in getting
out a collection of his poems.
As a translator Mangan was inimitable, and
some of his best work is done in this line. He
never believed in literalness, and allowed himself
such freedom that in many cases his transla-
tions are nothing more than paraphrases. He
always, however, caught the fire and spirit of the
original and very often vastly improved upon
it, and what was before crude ore became,
under his magic touch, the purest of refined
gold. In his Irish translations he generally
chose those subjects of a dismal character and
with that melancholy strain running through
them that so well accorded with his nature.
What a world of woe and desolation is
breathed forth in' his “ O -Hussey’s Ode to the
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
Maguire,” “ Sarsfield,” “ Kinkora,” and “ Dark
Rosaleen!” We can see in these that strange,
mercurial temperament of the Celt; bold and
irresistible in triumph, but despondent and
weak in adversity. Strange -to say, Mangan
could not read a word of Irish, and his transla-
tions are but versifications of paraphrases
furnished him by Irish scholars of the time.
These he rendered in his own way, yet he
always caught and expressed the spirit, the
cadence and the rhythm of the original.
His German translations were collected and
published in 1845 under the title of “Antho-
logia Germanica.” In these translations he is
undoubtedly unequal, yet some of them are
masterpieces, whether we consider them as
translations or not. They were, as Mitchel says,
“never, perhaps, exceeded for strength, sweet-
ness, clearness and beauty of finish.” What
can be more beautiful than his translation of
Rueckert’s “Dying Flower,” of which we give
“ How often soared my soul aloft
In balmy bliss too deep to speak,
When zephyrs came and kissed with soft
Sweet incense breath my blushing cheek!
When beauteous bees and butterflies
Flew round me in the summer beam,
Or when some virgin’s glorious eyes
Bent o’er me like a dazzling dream!”
Is there a word or phrase in the “ Spectre
Caravan” which can be altered without destroy-
ing the music of the verse? Or could the
melody be more perfect, or the picture be
placed before us more clearly? In his first
stanza alone, can we not picture the scene
“’Twas at midnight in the desert, where we rested on the
There my Beddaweens were sleeping, and their steeds
were stretched around;
In the farness lay the moonlight on the mountains of
And the camel-bones that strewed the sands for many
an arid mile.”
And again, what could be more pathetic or
accordant with the disappointment which the
poet met with in his life than the following
passage from Schiller:
“Extinguished in dead darkness lies the sun
That lighted up my shrivelled world of wonder —
Those fairy bands imagination spun
Around my heart have long been rent asunder.
Gone, gone forever, is the fine belief -
The all-too generous trust in the Ideal;
All my divinities have died of grief,
And left me wedded to the Rude and Real.”
Everyone is familiar with Longfellow’s trans-
lations from the German, ;and it might jbe well
to compare these with Mangan’s. The first
stanza of the “Castle by the Sea” Longfellow
translates as follows:
“Hast thou seen that lordly castle.
That castle by the sea.
Golden and red above it.
The clouds float gorgeously? ”
Mangan renders the same:
“ Sawest thou the castle that beetles over
The wine-dark sea?
The rosy sunset clouds do hover
Above it so goldenly.”
Only saying that Longfellow’s is the more
literal, we leave it to the reader to decide
which is the more poetical. In another trans-
lation Longfellow sings:
“ I heard a brooklet gushing
From its rocky fountain near,
Down into the valley rushing.
So fresh and wondrous clear.”
Mangan renders it thus:
“There danceth adown the mountain
The child of a lofty race;
A streamlet fresh from its fountain
Hies toward the valley apace.”
Once again Longfellow is the more literal,
but Mangan is the more poetical. It is a cause
of regret that Longfellow translated so little
from the German as we might otherwise have
had a chance of comparing with one another
the two greatest translators of German song.
As to Mangan’s translations from the Coptic
and Persian they are undoubtedly so in
name only. The original never existed except
in Mangan’s mind. No other poet than Mangan
ever wrote “ The Karamanian Exile,” “ The
Wail and Warning of the Three Khalendeers,”
or that magnificent poem “The Time of the
Barmecides.” What could be more character-
istic of Mangan than for him to sing
“ My eyes are filmed, my beard is. gray,
I am bowed with the weight of years.
I would I were stretched in my bed of clay
With my long-lost youth’s compeers.
For back to the past, tho’ the thought brings woe.
My memory ever glides
To the old, old time, long, long ago.
The time of the Barmecides.”
Who that has once read these lines can forgot
them? In spite of themselves their memories
will ever glide
“To the old, old time, long, long ago.
The time of the Barmecides.”
And those singular verses called “Twenty
Golden Years Ago,” can we pass them over in
silence? Can we pass over unnoticed the
depth of pathos together with the hollow
humor the poet displays in his lament for the
life which Avas his “twenty golden years ago?”
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC .
To my mind, that poem is one of the most
pathetic in the English language. Nor can we
pass unmentioned his “ Broken-hearted Lays,”
“Vision of Connaught” “The Warning Voice,”
and “The Irish National Hymn,” all of which
There is one class of literature of which
Mangan, as a translator, stands alone. It is that
class in which German literature excels — those
poems “which strive to utter that vague,
yearning aspiration towards something nobler
and grander than the world can give us, — that
passionate stretching forth of the hands to
reach the ever-flying Ideal, which must be to
us all as the fair Cloud Juno was to Ixion.”
Mangan was a master of the mechanical
art of poetry, and it is this, combined with his
depth of feeling, which makes him the artist
he is. He had the happy power of clearly and
aptly expressing his meaning, and he is never
at a loss for the right word. Then, too, he was
a believer in the use of broken metres, and
this one thing adds greatly to the force and
power of all his works. In this respect he
reminds us of our own Poe, who also delighted
in the use of peculiar metres. Mangan had
very little humor, and that which he had was
of that bitter mocking sort which shows us his
sad experience with the world.
No one‘ who considers the man can be
otherwise than interested in him or his life —
or rather, his double life. The man was a
mystery unfathomable even to his nearest
friends, and this veil of mystery still hangs
so closely about him that we cannot but try to.
tear it away. We know little of him beyond
his wretchedness and genius; but what we do
know is sufficient to convince us that had he
been given opportunities he would have
been one of the greatest of English-speaking
poets. As it is, he is the greatest poet the
Emerald Isle has ever produced, and as such is
recognized by all great critics.
In this short article we have tried to direct
attention to Mangan, and to show his ability
and worth as a poet. Our subject has been a
broad one, and we may have failed to treat
it properly; but if we have accomplished our
object -we will rest satisfied. We are sure that
no one will ever regret having spent a few
hours on Mangan, and we hope that in the
future lovers of good poetry will devote more
attention, to him. Then we may rest happy
in, /the assurance that he will be properly
appreciated, and will receive the praise and
place in literature, which he so highly deserves.
Me an’ the Oap’n.
ELMER J. MURPHY, ’97.
Just outside the barracks, where the spring
sun shines warmest and the spring sod is
driest, sat Sergeant Quigley smoking his little
black pipe, with a feeling of deep contentment.
It was just such a day as was suited to revery.
The long vigil of winter was over; the first
touch of the days of a new year brought to the
mind a bit of idleness which turned towards
other springs like this and mused upon the
days that memory knows. At least this is
what the Sergeant was doing. His eyes looked
listlessly out upon the greening landscape;
the puffs of smoke curled unnoticed around
his head. When I came up to him, he started
suddenly and saluted:
“Ah! Gineral,” — he called me thus because I
was the Major’s elder brother — “it’s a fine
day we’re havin’.”
“True, Mike,” I replied. “You seemed to
be dreamin’ when I came up.”
“Yis, sir; so I wuz, Gineral, — an’ dramin’ av
a time whin I wuz happier’n I am now, though
I haven’t got any rasdn to shuffle me tongue.
But, sir, it’s in this weather to trundle up the
owld times. What Bdvuz thinkin’ about wuz
twinty years ago, sir; an’ I can see it all as
if ’twere yisterday.”
“Some girleen or otljer, Mike?”
“No, sir, it wuzn’L .But there is a bit av a
girleen in it; an’ such a one as I never saw
before. Sit down, Gineral, an’ I’ll tell ye about
“It wuz this way: When I wuz in the army
a soldierin’ about tin years, an’ in active service
about five, I sthumbled on a man that I’ve
never seen the like av’ yit; an’ I never expect
to. ’Twuz Cap’n Tom, sir. That’s the only
name I ever called him, an’ that’s all the name
you’ll have to know. We jisht .stharted, or
wuz gettin’ ready to sthart, whin I came under
his command. We wint out to knock the
galoots off av thim dammed crows, an’ a maner
set o’ red divils I never seen in me life. They’re
worse than thim Chirokees an’ Black Feet.
“I wuz a corporil thin, an’ not a big one
aither; but Cap’n Tom tuk a fancy for me, an’
I tuk one for him, arid we sthuck like cactuses.
Anyway, I got a post beside him an’ I tuk the
banner before long.
“ It wuzn’t a long time before we stharted out.
At. first nothin’ came up., .We had a big. march
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
.to the inimy’s counthry, but nearly all the boys
were owld hands an’ didn’t sigh for fightin’
as thim young fellies do. They tuk things as
they had a mind to come. As fer Cap’n
Tom, he made every mother’s son av ’em feel
as if they wud follow him through the counthry
till their jaws quit workin’.
“ I remimber one night whin some av ’em
got too much rye-spirits between their belts so
as they couldn’t tell a bay’net from a gun-
sthock. He talked to ’em quietly, as if he
were talkin’ with his own brother. I see’d ’em
slink away when he wuz finished. The whul
mob av ’em felt as if they were the manest things
that ever sthood on two feet. Since that time
nary one touched a dhrop till the dammed
Indians slunk into their hole; and thin many
’av ’em were lyin’ out in the buffalo fields
widout any longin’ for it.
“The firsht av the red divils we ran into wid
both feet, for we had ’em, — owin’ to the skill av
Cap’n Tom — in a pepper box, an’ cud sift ’em
out as we plazed. It made me feel bully, too,
to shoot the words out av their mouths.
“Thin we wint into hard times an’ active
service. I laid the owld banner by; for there
wuz no need av a flag fightin’ those shnakes.
It wuz betther to keep your glory hid if ye
wanted to keep it at all. For days we wint
on over the plains, hot on the thrail av a big
squad; an’ yit, we cud no more grab ’em than
we cud fry the earth on a griddle.
“ Gineral, I never worked so hard in me
life, an’ yit, I wuz jisht as happy as any
man. Since thin, I’ve had an aisy time av it,
but, bedad, I’d like to go through wid the
same owld campaign agin, wid Cap’n Tom at
“As I wuz sayin’, we wint on for a dammed
long time before we had signs av a round-up.
Whin we got into the hilly regions, we saw
signs av scouts and dammed quare risin’s
av smoke, which meant somethin* as sure as
me name izn’t Dutch. *
“ Many times I saw the Cap’n wid a lowered
brow an’ throubled face gazin’ afther thim
little shmOke signals. I knowed he wuz cal-
c’latin’ somethin’, an’ I wuz afeard we’d have a
tough fight wid the red skins before we wud be
able to clane ’em out.
“At lasht- we came to a sthand-sthill, an’ the
Cap’n said: ‘Tomorrow we’ll have a hard
time, an’ there will be many av the boys that
won’t fight agin.’ He spoke to ’em that' night
an’ put out extry watches. ' '
' “ Next mornin’ we wint a little ahead until we
came up on a bit av a hill. Thin we saw the
sight that knocked us cold. There on the
hill forninst us, there wuz about a million av
the dommed feathers an’ warpaint. It seemed
about twice as much, Gineral; puttin’ it six
av thim to one av us wuzn’t a toothpick too
much. The whole hillside wuz covered- rvid
’em, movin’ kind o’ restless and snake-like.
“Cap’n Tom sthood before us: ‘Byes,’ he
said, ‘you see this pile we’ve got to fight.
We are few, they’re many. But we have guns
an’ they’ve only got a few av ’em. Don’t sthop
once. Kill an’ slash an’ shoot till they run;
an’ when- they take to the woods keep your
noggins'low. If I fall, you’ll follow Ouigley.
Whin his turn comes — well, do your duty.’ -
“We got everything in shape an’ wuz movin
to . a shnug little cove, whin three av the
Indians came forrud with a snip av’ a white
flag. The Cap’n called me an’ Crowley an’
we wint ahead to meet ’em, the hateful divils.
Gineral, they were the most deservin’ av the
name I’ve, ever seen.
“ Crowley commenced palaverin’ wid ’em;
tellin’ Cap’n Tom what they promised, whin
the whul three wid one lape sprang upon us, an’
before I know’d it'Gap’n Tom wuz down. This
made me sthrong all av a suddin, an’ I tuk
the one ’at came at me by the head an’ broke
his neck wid a crack, — which wuz too good
for his thievin’ hide. Crowley did the same wid
his; but Cap’n Tom was sthill strugglin’ wid
the baste that come at him. That wan died
before he cud take another eye-wink. By this
time the whul mob came at us, wid a whoop,
an’ all I did wuz to tell some av the fellies
to take Cap’n Tom back an’ care for ’im. .
“An’ thin we let go. I know’d there wuz no
need av a leader now. Such a savage, bloody
thrick as that set us all on fire, an’ wid one
gineral cuss we went at ’em. They came on
wid a rush^whoopin’ an’ yellin’ an’ swingin’
their arms like divils. Then I looked at me
boys. ; I never saw a line av sterner faces iri
me life before or since thin. Their eyes was-
blazin’ an’ bloodshot ; their teeth set like
vices; The whul line wuz quiverin’ wid anger:
I knew, Gineral, that every wan wud fight till
he wuz dead.
“The first volley tumbled a. heap av ’em
down, the second more. We didn’t git a third.
■By that time they were on us, 'an’ every man
forgot everythin’ an’ pitched in like ravin’
maniacs. As for meself, I wuz swingin’ me guri
for hours; what I did, I cudn’t tell. I wuz
thinkin’ av- Cap’n Tom/ ; •
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
“ I don’t know how ’twuz. All av a suddin I
found meself sthandin’ wid a bloody gun in
me hand, an’ jisht afore me wuz a red divil
squirmin’ in the lasht breath av life. His head
wuz battered in an’ the blood was strainin’
out upon the parched grass. He gave wan
quiver an’ thin lay quiet. We had licked the
shkunks so bad they didn’t sthay to take away
“Thin I wint sthumblin’ over the dead to the
Cap’n. Sir, what I saw wuz enough to make
any shtrong man quaver. The Cap’n lay in
owld Crowley’s arms, an’ around him sthood
most av the byes. Gineral, such a soight I
niver want to see agin. It wuz near sundown.
The laves o’ the trees rustled wid the same
noise as before the fight. On )'onder hill
lay the scattered dead av the reds. By Cap’n
Tom’s side, the men sthood wid their clothes
torn and bloody. Their guns lay in a heap
broken and battered.
“ Eight hours ago they tore down the hill like
wild men wid terrible inds in view; they
dealt blows wid a stringth that never gave up.
An’ now, sir, they sthood by the Cap’n wid
their eyes full av tears an’ their heads bowed,
prayin’, Gineral, — thim that never thought
av a prayer before, — prayin’ wid their voices
choked wid sobbin’. Somehow or other the
tears bubbled up in . me own eyes as I knelt
down beside him an’ he tuk me hand. He
gave me a packet sir, whispered a good-bye,
an’ — fell back — dead.”
Here the old veteran paused, for his voice
was husky, and he wiped off the two tears that
trickled down over his rough, honest face.' I
did not urge him. He waited until his voice
became firmer, and then finished the story
which I had best tell in my own words. It is
too difficult to bring out the broken accents
that told what sorrow was in his heart.
He who lay alone in the unknown prairie,
whose grave was marked only by the little
mound of earth, had looked forward to the toil
of a soldier’s life as a way to happier things.
The future of this world, which he had hoped
and longed for, never came. And how many
hearts— tender and strong and noble — were
made sad? In how many hearts is he now living?
.In a large city in a large mansion there was
one who opened the packet with trembling
fingers, and swooned away before she could
read the message it contained. A fond mother
tried to press upon our hero a gift of money;
but he took nothing. He did. not do all this
for money; it was for the. sake ot Cap’n Tom
The Stile— that Used to Be.
AN ANSWER WITHOUT WORDS.
LD times, old books, the hours to while;
Old friends to dream in revery and rest;
Old places — such as was the stde, —
Are these the memories we love the best?
E. J. M.
I'm sitting on the stile, Mary,
Where we sat side hy side .— .lady dufferi'J.
I’m dreaming of the stile, Mary,
Where we sat side by side
When the birds sang love for us, Mary,
And a pair o’ birds espied.
The stile was old and worn, Mary,
And the grass grew ’round its base,
But I see it now as a queenly throne
All brightened by your face.
’Twas our rest whene’er we could, Mary,
The scenes of our rendezvous, Mary,
Whenever we found a way.
And there — but why recall them,
For grief comes with the joy,
When I think that the stile’s no more, Mary,
But replaced by a pretty toy?
A pretty toy! — pray, pardon!
’Tis a toy for boors and — men!
An iron gate! what madness
Has changed to the now the then ?
No more will angels’ whispers
Be heard around the stile.
There are angels still, but— horror! —
They’ve smashed that antique pile.
OLD— HE, SHE AND IT.
You cannot change the good old place
Though you destroy the scene.
For memories of her dear old face
Still keep the old stile green.
T. T. C.
A GUSHING SPRING.
Poor old moth-eaten, mildewed thing,
They’ve hacked and chopped your frame;
But axes cannot choke the spring
That still holds to your fame.
B. J. K.
OUR SHRINE DESECRATED.
f - - ^ , , - „ „
Somehow beneath the murmuring, wind-fanned trees
An odor of sweet, by-gone memories .
Seems hovering still. We close our eyes and seem
To see old time-dimmed pictures, and we dream
Forgotten voices whisper in the breeze. ;
But stiff our shrine is rifled— yea, the shrine
At which the students knelt with love divine.
And worshipped idols of pQetic past
Is gone. Time all unfeeling has at last
Placed bars prosaic in the place once thine. '
;'*’ v v.*" C M. B. ; B.
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
Greek and Mathematics.
JESSE W. LANTRY, ’97.
The American student of today differs
greatly from the one of twenty years ago, and
the cause of this vast difference may be attrib-
uted to the fact that he is now obliged to pursue
a certain trend of study which then would have
aided him little in practical life. Another cause
is evident from the object of education, which
today consists in broadening the intellect, and
rendering one’s views more clear and valuable
to others, while its object then was often of a
pecuniary nature, and to assist the student in
gaining the professional confidence more than
the respect of those around him. The present
scholar shows the merit of devotion to a certain
class of study, how it assists him in his own
efforts, and how instructive it is to the knowl-
edge-seeking public. In the first place, it
strengthens the mind, so much so that colleges
have adopted certain studies merely for the
cultivation and preparation of the student for
future work — to assist memory and observation
the natural sciences are taught; to confirm the
judgment foreign languages and mathematics,
and likewise every faculty is developed by-
exercise in its own work.
In regard to Greek and mathematics it is
difficult to say which gives the best mental
training. I shall compare them with each other
in the different functions the mind performs,
and try to show the comparative value of each.
The best common advantage is their aid to
judgment. In this, I think Greek is subordinate;
for in the study of mathematics there is a
continuous line of reasoning from arithmetic
to the highest branch, while in Greek it is
almost lost after one has acquired a facility in
sight-translation. After this is attained the
study of the language becomes more useful to
the observation, — the beauties of style, the
characteristics of the work, the peculiarities of
the author, are only the reward of diligent
research. The method of seeking results in
mathematics rather develops the understanding,
because in its problems the student is com-
pelled to begin at one point and work onward,
but at each step he is obliged to determine in
which direction the next must be taken.
For accuracy, mathematics is again superior;
because the student is forced to be more exact
in the solution of problems than he is in the
analysis of a paragraph of Greek. Still, there
is an objection to this which maintains that the.
acquirement of the precise meaning of the
author demands the same mental energy, if not
more than that used in the explication of a
theorem. Whether it does or not is hard to
decide. Greek, on the one hand, embracing
philology and the comparison with similar
constructions in other languages, indeed taxes
the mind to a wonderful degree; but when we
look at what is required to deal with imaginary
quantities, then it is that we have an idea of
what mathematics does for our judgment. The
acquirement of a good vocabulary makes Greek
very beneficial as a training for the memory;
and besides the mere knowledge of words there
is much to be retained concerning the ancient
literature, the author’s methods, the syntax,
and one’s success depends - altogether on ' the
amount remembered from previous reading.
In mathematics the memorizing of rules, for-
mulae and theorems and their application in
the different branches, is also necessary for
work in the higher studies, and, in my opinion,
exacts more energy to preserve them fresh in
our memory than it does to retain the prin-
ciples of Greek.
There are many secondary advantages which
these classes possess; but the most important
have been referred to and their benefits
enumerated in a general way. Now let us look
at the methods that the different colleges
use in developing the mind. In Cornell they
use the mathematical sciences and everything
connected with them, both for drill and in
preparing their graduates for practical work.
Harvard uses both systems, but from her
catalogue it appears that she gives preference
to Greek. Princeton agrees , with Cornell;
Yale and almost all Catholic colleges with
Harvard. Twelve years ago, one of the German
universities attempted to substitute mathe-
matics for Greek, merely as an experiment,
with the intention of replacing it at the end of
ten years if it proved a failure. They saw from
their graduates that during that time less able
men were turned out, so that the year before
last they restored Greek to their curriculum.
If we take the benefits derived from devotion
to these studies and examine them separately,
mathematics, in every case, appears to have
the preference. It seems to strengthen the
intellect and memory more than Greek, and to
be far above it as a training for mental devel-
opment; but-experience shows that it is really
inferior, and the reason of this is indeed hard
to find. I myself, .have attributed it to the
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
fact that mathematics delights the student
after he has passed the elementary part, and
he rather delights in working with exact
quantities, knowing that the result when ob-
tained is true and cannot be otherwise. Greek,
on the other hand, seems to require an effort
on the part of the student to continue the
work, unless he is following a natural desire to
learn the language.
Nowadays the aim of an education is not
the simple learning of a few facts and technical
rules, but the development of the powers of
the mind; and when a man knows what he is
most capable of doing in life he should pursue
it to the end, and turn all his efforts towards
its accomplishment. We find that mathematics
and Greek cultivate almost every mental faculty
and are alinost indispensable to a collegiate
education. Although the mathematical course
is good in its place, still a person seems to lack
something unless he has had a thorough clas-
sical training, because it embraces nearly all
the general learning contained in the other
courses. At the present time mathematics is
often studied more for its use in practical life,
and as such it loses half its value as an educator,
because one is apt to omit a great deal, and
pass through even more without understanding,
it thoroughly, in order to complete one’s course
sooner. On the other hand, the classical is
considered as a foundation for all the profes-
sions, and though the same fault may be found
with it as with the other, still there are enough
studies connected with it to make up for the
neglect No matter what position in life he
may enter, the classical student has enough
general knowledge to assist him in all his
The Prisoner of Zenda.
MARTIN J. COSTELLO, 9 7.
If one were to visit a large bookstore for the
purpose of examining some.of the latest novels,
one would be surprised to find how many are
of the lowest rank and deserve very little
attention. Although the average novel may be
read and commented upon by the critics and the
people for a short time after its publication, yet
its existence is of a brief duration'. .Its popularity
gradually wanes, and the novel itself is. lost sight
of until some curious and interested reader
resurrects it from its dark abode. Everyone
knows the old, but credible saying that there
is always an exception to every rule. This is
true, indeed, of the novel about which I am to
speak, “The Prisoner of Zenda” — read not only
by the critics, who contended with one another
in bestowing encomiums upon its author, but
also by the majority of people. As a novel it
has gained success for its writer, yet, I might
say, it has received greater approval- as a
drama. It has brought fame to Mr. Anthony
Hope Hawkins, who, until the publication of
this work, was little known. Since then he
has attained an. enviable position among the
novelists of the day. His greatest success may
be said to be in the writing of short stories.
In these he is a skilful master, both in the
development of plot and in the delineation
of character. The story briefly outlined is
as follows :
Rudolph. Rassendyll, a young Englishman,
overcome by the strong' desire of travelling,
determines -to visit Ruritania, telling his
sister and his friends that he intends to make
a few months’ sojourn in the Tyrol for the
purpose of exploration. On his arrival in
Ruritania he is surprised to find a similarity
of appearance between himself and the future
king. After a few day’s acquaintance with the
head of the government, Rudolph finds him to
be a good-natured and jovial partner, and upon
the king’s invitation to dine with him, Rudolph
willingly accepts and becomes a participant
in a very perilous undertaking, which the
author states in a most striking manner.
The sumptuous meal of which the king and
Rudolph partook, with the best wine that
could be had, was too much for the former.
As an outcome of his excessive drinking, the
kins was unable to attend his coronation.
On account of the likeness between Rudolph
and the king, Colonel Sapt, one of the king’s
servant’s and a jolly soldier of the old German
stock, suggests that in the present trouble
Rassendyll assume the position and character of
the monarch and deceive the crowd. Rassendyll
does not like the idea, as he tells Colonel
Sapt that if he were discovered in the act
of imitating the king, great trouble would
follow. However, after much persuasion on
the Colonel’s part, Rudolph consents. He
disguises himself arid, takes the place of the
king at flie coronation. In the meantime
Rudolph and the Colonel, have found out to
their amazement that while the king was in an
intoxicated, condition he had been removed
to an unknown place by his wicked cousin
Michael. -As they are unable to ascertain the
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC
king’s whereabouts, Rudolph is forced to
continue his perilous role. He does this with
great anxiety for three long months, during
which time he passes through some of ithe
most dangerous ventures he has ever heard
of. Not only was the character of the king
sufficient for him to assume, but he had to
make love to Flavia, to whom the king was
engaged. This was greater trouble, but through
the wise counsels of Colonel Sapt and Fritz
Von Tarlenheim, another of the king’s attend-
ants, he admirably succeeded in playing the
part of the lover. He performs this so well
that in the course of a few weeks Flavia
and himself fall deeply in love. What seemed
at first to be counterfeit, soon became real.
After much diligent' work the prison of the
king is made known through the assistance of
the villain’s concubine, Madame de Mauban,
who joins the followers of the king in order to
save him. The king is finally rescued; Michael
is killed in the attack upon the castle, and
Rassendyll, after liberating the king and settling
all his affairs, returns to England a much
wiser and sadder man.
The plot is the work of a clever, creative
imagination. Through the author’s pleasing
style and the nobleness of the characters the
interest never flags. It is well connected, for
the scenes and changes of time follow each
other in clear succession so that all flow onward
to the end, making one complete unit. As
regards Anthony Hope’s style there is some-
thing so original in it that it is very pleasing
to the reader. It resembles none of the modern
writers, nor, I may say,‘ any of the most noted
writers of the early part of the present century.
It is neither so rough as to be unpopular, nor is
it so heavy as to be unbearable; but it is easy,
forcible and, above all, pleasing. Undoubt-
edly, the charm of Mr. Hope is in his conver-
sational method. He does not tire the reader
with too much dialogue, because he knows
where to stop in order to hold the interest of
In the portrayal of character, Mr. Hope has
achieved greatest glory. He has done this
with such skill that idealized characters seem
to lis to be natural. Although we may not meet
with them in life, still we are consoled when
we read about them, as our spirits are drawn
towards that which is noble. The hero of the
novel, Rudolph Rassendyll, may be somewhat
overdrawn, yet we hardly notice it in the con-
trast of the other characters. He charms us
by his bravery and his good-natured disposi-
tion. There is one phase .where the character
is not consistent. After he has settled all his
affairs he departs suddenly for England as
though nothing had happened. We would not
expect such a thing to occur after following
Rudolph through the work. There is another
blemish against Mr. Hope, and a very bad
mark upon the book. Rassendyll, though a
non-Catholic, receives the Viaticum at the
coronation. This is a fault that can hardly
be pardoned. Mr. Hope did not think that this
part of the book would be attacked by Catholic
readers as offensive, and, above all, unworthy
of a liberal-minded man.
In delineating the characters of Colonel
Sapt and Fritz Von Tarlenheim, Mr. Hope has
portrayed for us two soldiers — one of the old
school and the other of the new. The former
is a keen-sighted, obstinate warrior and a good-
natured man; the latter, not so courageous as
his friend, yet a soldier devoted to his king.
He has not that stern look of the Colonel, but
is a soldier of the court, brave and courteous.
Duke Michael’s character is so well depicted
that when reading the novel we wish that his
every movement might be his last. We hate
him because of his wicked actions and his
designs against his gentle and good-hearted
king. Occupying a high position in the kingdom,
he is not satisfied, but is ever striving for the
crown. Ambition works his ruin, and thus we
see his unfortunate life brought to a sudden
and well-deserved end.
Flavia, the heroine, is the best-drawn char-
acter in the novel. Although she does not
occupy as great a position as Rassendyll,
still she shines forth in a more brilliant man-
ner than the other characters. In the portrayal
of Flavia, Mr. Hope has shown himself to be
a wonderful artist. When Rudolph decides
to return to England, great as the love Flavia
had for him, she was averse to going with
him, and remains in Ruritania to be the king’s
wife and an unhappy queen. The separation of-
These two lovers is the most pathetic scene
throughout the book. As noble as Flavia is,
she parts from Rassendyll rather than accom-
pany him to England arid thereby stain the
name and honor of her family. If Anthony
Hope is to be considered a rising novelist, his
book, “The Prisoner of Zenda,” "speaks for himl
As I have treated his first novel, in this short
essay, it appears that if “The Prisoner of
Zenda” be taken as the criterion of Mr.
Hope’s abilities, what cannot we still expect
from his pen?
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
Notre Daniil, October 3, 1S9G.
ISubligljrti cbrrji ,Satur3)an During JTcrm JTiutc at £1. D. Hiuticrsitn.
Entered as second-class matter at the Post Office, Notre Dame, Ind.
Terms , $1.50 per Annum. Postpaid.
Address: THE EDITOR, NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC,
Notre Dame, Ind.
JOSEPH A. marjion;
MICHAEL J. NEY, ’9 /; ARTHUR W. STACE, ’96;
JAMES HARRY, ’97;
ELMER J. MURPIIY, ’97; SHERMAN STEELE, ’97;
JESSE W. LANTRY, ’97;
JOS. V. SULLIVAN, ’97; PAUL J. RAGAN, ’97;
CHARLES M. 13. BRYAN, ’97;
THOMAS 13. REILLY, ’9 7; JOHN A. MCNAMARA, ’97;
WILLIAM C. HENGEN, ’97.
FRANK W. O’MALLEY,
FRANCIS J. F. CONFER,
LOUIS C. M. REED,
JOHN F. FENNESSEY, J
Note. — The Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors
and. Seniors of the Classical, English, Scientific
and of all the Engineering Courses are hereby
requested to hand in their regular essays to the
Director of Studies on or before November 2.
— To address the entire student body on the
matter of etiquette may be considered a bold
and reprehensible act, for there are . many
among us who have already laid the founda-
tions of their character and acquired those
good habits, which every one should seek, to.
practise. But there are others, who, on account
of their youth or carelessness, can yet lay no
claim to good breeding. Fortunately this class
is^ small, but, though small, not insignificant.
Since a college course includes the inculcation
of Christian principles and Christian virtues,
we would say a word to the small class, which
we have just mentioned, by recommending to
their attention a booklet called “ Don’t,” con-
taining directions for avoiding improprieties
in conduct and common errors of speech. The
author of this little book takes a hint from
Portia, and says: “It is a good divine that
follows his own instructions.” And so we may
know very well how to conduct ourselves, but,
at the same time, may conduct ourselves very
ill indeed. This booklet, which may be found
in the Students’ Office, will repay perusal, and
is so neat and handy that its possession will
be no incumbrance.
— The candidates for the Varsity are work-
ing hard and in a few more days will be in
a fit condition to try conclusions with their
opponents. The Eleven will soon be chosen;
therefore it behooves every man who dons the
canvas to see to it that his practice be all that
he can make it. The duty devolves upon every
man of making as good a fight as possible for
a place on the team, and if so fortunate as to
secure that honor, he should make every effort
to hold it.. No man will be so unreasonable as
to attempt to fill a position which it is evident
he can not fill, and if, when the team has finally
been chosen, it appears that any member of it
fall below the standard, he should at once
vacate and give a better man a chance.
— Last year a new custom was instituted by
the Boat Club which it _ would be well to
observe this fall. A regatta should be held on
Founder’s Day, the memory of which will be
cherished by those. who witness it, and handed
down to succeeding oarsmen. In the calendar
of the University of Notre Dame there are days
which should be looked forward to with long-
ing and remembered with delight; days which,
should evpke all the patriotism of the students’
souls and fill their hearts with love undying,
ineffaceable for their Alma Mater. We ought
to build up traditions for those who follow us,
even though vve cannot reap the pleasure which,
in time, those traditions must bring forth. The
legacy we leave behind must be honorable, —
worthy of true sons of Notre Dame and appro-
priate to the season in which they should be
St. Edward’s Day is one of these red-letter
days, and what is more fitting to its fulfilment
than a contest between skill and muscle?
Already : some r work has been done in this
regard by members of the Boat Club, but
greater interest should be shown in this matter
than has heretofore been evinced. Let the
sharp, quick stroke of the oarsmen curl the
waters of St Joseph’s Lake; let the Gold and
Blue wave in the breeze, and the thirteenth of
October will be a day- to be remembered!
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
The Passing of the Stile.
Certain mediaeval schoolmen, who had more
leisure than was befitting, were fond of arguing
questions of this sort: Utrimi muiecim tnillid
angcloram acus supra punctum saltare possunt —
“Whether eleven thousand angels could dance
upon the point of a needle.” Whatever way
this grave discussion ended, surely these
angels could not dance upon our old Stile.
The point of a needle is not a quarter section
in Indiana, but it is something— the Stile today
is nothing, merely a sweet memory, a treasure,
set away with fair dreams faded.
Lady Dufferin, in her “Lament of the Irish Em-
igrant,” begins with this pathetic opening chord:
I’m sittin’ on the stile,
Where we sat side by
On that bright May
mornin’ long ago.
The poetic lady
could appreciate our
grief, and the diffi-
culty this Emigrant
would nbw experi-
ence if he attempted
to repeat his en-
thro n i z a t i o n. He
perch upon the sup-
planting, utilitarian, -
iron gate, but what
could Mary do?
She was probably
no bicyclist, no bird, an angel only by meta-
phor during the enthusiastic moments of the
A few days since a rondel-writing Sorinite,
coming, here like the goldenrod, after the dear
idle days of summer, bethought him of the
stile and of those fair white towers that soar
starward along the sky-line, over emerald,
billowy, trees. ..There, dwell, as in a dovecot,
comely., maidens innumerous, guarded vigi-
lantly as precious things should be guarded..
Onward between the lakes, with sunset all
incarnadined, he wandered, chanting softly as
did Autolycus, . the love-worthy rogue in
Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile-a:
A merry heart goes all the way,
■ — • - Your sad tires in a mile-a!
VVhat though he might not pass the Stile and
enter the Promised Land, could he .not, like
Mary’s Emigrant, sit upon the stile as he had
often done in hours of May and watch the
West burn from flame of carnation to .the
spiritual golden light that trembles under frost-
touched maple leaves? Could he not rest him
there on steps which haply the hem of her
trailing raiment had made blessed by a touch?
Even as Satan,
So on he fares, and to the border comes
Where also “Adam,” the gardener, dwells —
so named by envious .Sorinites- because he is
the only man within that Place of Paradise.
But alack! and well -a- day! where is the
Stile ? — Mais on sont les > icigcs d'antan?
At last with the
gentle bitterness of
he essays a wan
jest, — he writes up-
on the gate-post:
“Please do not sit
upon the Stile!”
Then with eyes
downcast he drifts
away like a with-
Did the carpen-
ter, being mechani-
cal, know what his
plebeian axe was
d e stroying? -The
Stile family is of
and deserving of
better entreatment. Back in the days of good
Will Shakspere. it was called Style, and before
the Norman Invasion it was Stigcl. It came
to England from Germany. When : middle
: High German was spoken the family was called
Stiegel ; and in the dim distant days when the
Nibelungen were quarreling about the Rhine-
gold it was known as Stiagil. The derivation
of the name is from Stigan, to climb, to ascend,
and the family motto, borne by many a field,
was Sic itur ad astra. The Romans were fam-
iliar with the. Stile. I do not mean that stile
which Horace would have us so often evert,
but the stile which held back charging cavalry.
Caius Silius Itaiicus, in his epic poem upon the
Second Punic War (x., 413), says:
Cervorum ambustis imitantur cornua ramis,
Et Stilus occulitur, caecum in vestigia telum.
THE STILE — THAT USED TO BE.
It certainly is of long lineage, venerable, not
proper food for axes. - *
There was an old Stile which the “ Flos
Regum Arthurus ” had placed near
Tintagil castle by the Coriiish sea.
That Cornish Stile was a line of stepping
stones standing within a violet-enameled ditph.
Upon these, haply, were set the trembling san-
dals of old Merlin as he fled into the South,
and the jeweled purfling on the purple shoon
of that dangerous damsel Vivian twinkled
thereupon as she switched over the long grass
in her unmaidenly pursuit of the very ancient
precursor of Mr. Herman. There, too, when
Queen Guinevere went a-Maying Sir Lancelot,
to safeguard her passage, would hold her
finger-tips, — a proceeding which was not
But why wander so far from our own ; Stile
which was and is no more? Let us rather
forthwith begin the quest for that carpenter!
They that have done this deed are honorable: .
What private griefs they have, alas! I know not,
That made them do it; they’re; wise and honorable,
And will, no doubt, with reason answers yon; —
nathless we still demand the sacrifice of that
It is not an easy task to have anything in
this column of the Scholastic this week.
Most of our exchanges have not as yet shaken*
off the torpor of the holidays, and it will take
many of them a long time before they do so-.
A few of our friends of last year have reached us,
and but a very small number of these possess
enough zeal and talent to be above the child-
ishness of informing us that Miss Constance
Montgomery has returned from Michigan, or
that Professor Slowman is yet away in the
Jfc ’ 1
Last year the Mid-Continent— then a monthly
school paper — had not enough in it to repay
the looking at it. This year it has. become a
Weekly publication; but from the first numbers
we conclude that it is at least four times more
meagre and forbidding than it was last year.
We. admire pluck, but not imbecility.
* . '
Th e. Round Table congratulates Beloit College
on the success of its co-education movement —
a movement begun last year not without doubt
and hesitation. The Round Table believes that.
to every question there are two sides; and that
while some of the college men ’(nasty, dried-up
fellows) still dwell with loving affection upon
the excellencies of Old Beloit (where there
were no women?), they have cheerfully trans-
ferred their devotion and love to New Beloit.
This is not surprising. In the heart of the
college youth is change, forever change. We
understand that in the Freshman class of the
college there was a fall from the standard of
scholarship hitherto reached by this class.
Probably the zeal of the young ladies dis-
couraged the weak Freshmen.
The Earlhamite finds our remarks about
padding college papers with the aid of con-
tributions from professors and outsiders “in
the main highly commendable.” We should be
obliged by knowing on what points our criti-
cisms do not meet with the approval of the
Earlhamite. The Earlhamite ventures to say
that the editors of most college papers are
excusable if they occasionally succumb to the
temptation to fill up by the aid of the professor.
We do not condemn the aid of the Professor
when occasion requires it. In our remarks we
pointed out such occasions. If, outside of this,
editors succumb to the. temptation they suc-
cumb to laziness.
The Heidelberg Argus opens, the present
year in the same spirit which it showed during
the whole of last year. Is the Argus a field for
the efforts of Heidelberg students, or a stage
for the long-winded pomposities of professors
and outsiders, eked out by the scissors of the
staff? Enough is as good as a feast, especially
at an unbecoming repast.
The St. Vincent's Journal ', in chaste covers,
celebrates the Golden Jubilee of the foundation
of St. Vincent’s Abbey. Reproductions of St.
Vincent’s in 1846 and 1896, together with
pictures of the men who have made the
institution what it is, add to the attractiveness
of the number. We cordially concur with the
sentiments of the Journal that the fiftieth
anniversary of St. Vincent’s is an occasion
when one, like a traveler, who, after covering
a difficult and darksome way, has reached an
eminence, may pause and look back with
self congratulation upon the path already
covered. Such a retrospect has quickening
results. The energy, devotedness and sacrifice
visible in the past give impulse to the present, .
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC
while the conviction is born that the achieve-
ment of each individual, though small in itself,
is, when combined with the efforts of others
striving for the saine end, a factor productive
of glorious results. It is unnecessary to say we
felicitate St. Vincent’s on this happy occasion,
and hope that an equal stretch of further life
may be blessed with equal success.
An exchange editor, in an outburst of timid
righteousness, condemns the assertion of what
he deems immoral advertisements between the
covers of a college paper. Managers of pool
and billiard rooms, and dealers in cigars and
tobacco should be allowed no voice in a concert
where the elevating strains of a baccalaureate
sermon might be stifled by the clamorings of
wickedness. There are two sides to every ques-
tion, as all old men say. Advertising clothiers
and grocers might also be prevented from
contaminating the backs of college magazines,
for these good souls may, in their way, develop
the immorality of vanity and gluttony. As it
is the first time that the said exchange editor
is heard he begs that his mistakes might be
forgiven. In oiir pity we are ready to, forgive
— The many friends of Mr. J. Ducey, Sr., were
glad to see him at the University this week.
— Rev. George A. Lyons, of the Most Precious
Blood Church, Hyde Park, Boston, and the Rev.
P. J. O’Callaghan, the well-known Paulist Father,
were guests of the University on Tuesday last.
— Mr. J. Francis Harrison (student ’96) paid
us a passing visit on his way to New York.
Frank will attend the New York College of
Pharmacy. His many friends wish him success.
— The Hon. Judge T. E. Howard, accom-
panied by United States District Attorney
Burke, spent Wednesday morning in looking
over the treasures of the Bishops’ Memorial
— Louis C. Wurzer (Law ’96) has opened an
office in the Majestic, Building in Detroit. He
is with Corporation Counsel Chas. E. Flowers
and Mr. John E. Moloney and is rapidly build-
ing up a good practice.
— Thomas Monarch (student ’93) was a
welcome visitor at the University last week.
He is the same, good-natured fellow he was
when in college, though there is a furrow
between his eyes that has grown there during
the past three years. The only fault his friends
here find with, Tom is that he doesn’t come
—John Qriffin Mott. (LL. B. ’95, Litt. B. ’96}
was here on a visit last week, and took a run
to Danville to visit his chum, Francis W.
Barton (Biol. ’96). Frank turned out the
whole, town to meet him, giving a dance in his
honor, and entertaining him royally. Both will-
take post-graduate courses, Mott in law at
the Catholic University, Barton in medicine at
the College of Physicians and Surgeons, the
medical school of Columbia College, New York.
— The Rt. Rev. Monsignor Stephen, who has
charge of the Indian Bureau at Washington,
honored the President and Faculty with a
passing call. The Monsignor appeared to be
in the’ best of health, which blessing the
Scholastic hopes it may be his privilege to
enjoy, for many years to come. With the
Rt. Rev. visitor was an old patron of the
Institution, Colonel Pollock, former Inspector
of the Indian Schools. We are pleased to note
that both gentlemen were favorably impressed
.with their visit.
Mr. Michael J. Cooney.
It is our sad duty to chronicle the demise of
one of Notre Dame’s old friends and patrons,
Mr. Michael J. Cooney, of Toledo, Ohio, who
departed this life on last Friday morning. The
news of Mr. Cooney’s death comes as a severe
shock to his numerous friends at Notre Dame,
for he was much prized by all who knew him.
As a citizen and as a private individual he
impressed all with whom he came in contact
as an ideal man. He was as unassuming as
a child, and was so highly esteemed and
respected by his fellow-citizens that they feel
in his death a personal loss to themselves.
He was always .full of gratitude for favors
done him. When told that some friends of his
at Notre Dame were making a novena for
him, he expressed his heartfelt thanks, and
requested that his words be repeated to those
who took such a practical interest in his wel-
fare. Of Mr. Cooney the Catholic Universe says :
Mr. Cooney has been a prominent man, and well
deserved the confidence reposed in him. For two terms
he served as alderman from the second ward, and was
-president of the City Council' for three terms. In 1878
he was appointed to fill the vacancy of County Auditor
and occupied that position for ten months. He was
born in Monroe, Mich., January 27, 1842, and came to
Toledo in ’65, where he made an honorable reputation,
and is justly esteemed for his sterling, manly qualities.
Always prominent in affairs of the Church, he served
as councilman for many years, until he was obliged to
resign on account of his time being so occupied with
business. He leaves a family of two sons and five
daughters besides his wife, who are inconsolable over
the loss of a devoted husband and most loving father.
There has not been so much regret over the death of
any one in Toledo for years as over Mr. Cooney.
To his son James, who attended the University
for some years, and to the bereaved family, the
Scholastic tenders its sympathy.
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
— Lost — A new steel-rod umbrella with
curved handle. Please return it to Students’
. — Never mind, Rosey. Stay here during the
Christmas holidays, and it will be all forgotten
— And Bostang Brown, the deah old fellah,
has come alone through all this beastly weatha
to be with us again!
— Lost. — A watch-chain and pair of nose
glasses. Finder, please return them to H. J.
Moorhead, Brownson Hall.
— Students not having tickets will positively
not. be allowed on the field during football
games. See the treasurer, gentlemen.
— No, gentle reader, they are not “skiving.”
They are the new Brownson Hall faculty,
Bruecker and McGinnis, who' are out for a
— Dispel your inquisitiveness, kind reader,
Niezer sits on the top of his desk merely to
force the cover down over his fall stock of
— Lost— A small Rosary of brown colored
beads to which was attached, a medal of the
House of Loreto. Finder, please return to
--The candidates for the Varsity Eleven
have begun to diet themselves. They gathered
around the training table for the first time last
— “Say,” said O’Malley, and- the sun hid
himself behind a cloud, “if the foul-tackle punt
the goal post, how many quarter-backs does
the line-up score?”
— A tackling bag has been erected on the
Brownson campus. The football men may now
practise that difficult feature of the game with-
out fear of a cracked skull.
— Fox is an ardent free-silver advocate, but
his conception of the issue is somewhat unique.
In consequence, the boys of his table are
manipulating wooden knives and forks.
—The • munching of apples still continues
with little prospect of abatement; for alas! the
Brownsonites are now storing dozens of these
bigj juicy spheres away into their desks.
— He now restlessly paces the floor of his room, -
* : Sleep cometh not, and his mind is in gloorii; -
He tries hard to study, but knowledge comes? No,
While Ducey’s expounding tough Blackstone below.
— That was a mean man who asked where
the “dummy” was when Ducey made an
unsuccessful dive for the bag and ploughed up
enough sod to cover the whole base - ball
. — -“ Can ? t you fellows keep in step,” .authori-
tatively “shouted one. of our 'hew 'coxswains
after witnessing the flounder i ngs ! of the barsiii
the hands of a raw crew. The waters are still
— Messrs. Thomas O’Hara, Louis Girardi,
Roy Crawford, and Thomas Lowery, were
admitted to the University Stock Company.
They will appear in a play which will be given
by the Company about Nov. i.
— “ I hear the University is going to pay half
the expenses of a coach this season,” bravely
ventured the new student from Pennsylvania;
“ but I guess only the players will be allowed
to ride in it.” Get up! Get up!
— The history recitation was suddenly inter-
rupted by the crash of a falling chair followed
by a dull thud. Cypher then uncereriioniously
picked himself up from the floor where he had
unconsciously dropped while indulging in a
peaceful slumber. .
— The Band has now a full membership and
all are practising earnestly. A number of the
old men have not returned this year, but the
new men are keeping a stiff upper lip, and the
indications are that the Band will maintain its
enviable reputation of former years.
— A meeting of Company A, Iioynes’ Light
Guard 6 :, was held last Saturday evening with
Father Regan in the chair, but nothing of
importance was considered. A large number
of applications have been received, and the
outlook for a large membership is flattering
— Steeletto has increased his range by a
note! Before Thursday last his laugh ran from
minus A flat to O sharp; but one of Coxey’s
venerable jokes on that particular , evening
caused him to break the record with ease.
What a fortune that very audible smile would
be to a. comic opera star!
— The mandolin club, bids fair to equal in
point of excellence the splendid club of last
year. Two rehearsals have been held thus far,
and Prof. Preston assures us that the prospects
are flattering. It is gratifying to know that the
reputation of the mandolin club is to be main-
tained notwithstanding the fact that several of
the old members are missing.
— A long bag, stuffed with excelsior, has been
slung from a scaffolding on the Brownson
campus, on which the candidates for the. Varsity
are permitted to work off their surplus animal
spirits every afternoon. The bag was erected
at the suggestion of Coach Hering in order to
give the men plenty of practice in tackling.
An improvement has been noticed already in
their work. . \
—A meeting of the. Class of ’98 was held
Wednesday evening! .; There was a full attend-
ance . and plenty of enthusiasm. The officers
elected were: R. G. O’Malley, President; W. C.
KeglerJ 1st Vice-President; S. Spalding, 2d Vice-
President; W. F. Sheehan, Recording Secretary;
;A. ! MacDonald, ' Corresponding. Secretary; T.
Medley, T reasurdr ; E. Cr il ly ; Poet ; E. Mi ngey ,
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
Historian; C. Piquette, Orator; W. Fitzpatrick,
Critic. A committee was appointed to select
class pin and colors.
— The following schedule of games has been
arranged by the football manager:
Oct. 8 — College of Physicians and Surgeons,
Oct. 15 — South Bend Athletic Club,
Oct. 22 — Indianapolis Light Artillery,
Oct. 31 — Albion College,
Nov. — Lake Forest University,
Nov. 14 — Purdue University,
Nov. 26 — University of Indiana.
Students who have not purchased athletic tickets
will not be admitted to witness panics.
— A Drama in one Basket. — (The Brownson
goal is in danger'). Referee: — “A goal secured
from behind the line doesn’t count.” ( The ball
rolls towards the Carroll goal. It is thrown into
the basket by a Brownson man standing behind
the goal.) Referee: — “ Good! good! Score.”
Chorus of Carrolls: — “What! You said a
moment ago — ” Referee: — “Oh! stop kicking.
Play ball! Hurrah for Brownson Hall!” And
the sable curtain of night fell on the scene,
while far away Willie’s voice was heard in
unison with a grandfather frog cheering for
— -The first regular meeting of the St. Cecilians
was held last Wednesday evening. The follow-
ing officers were elected: Very Rev. Andrew
Morrissey, C. S. C., Honorary President; Rev.
J. W. Cavanaugh, C. S. C., and Dr. Austin
O’Malley, Literary Critics; Prof. N. A. Preston,
Musical Director; Bro. Alexander, C. S. C.,
Promoter; Rev. James J. French, C. S. C.,
President; John Francis Fennessey, 1st Vice-
President; Francis B. Cornell, 2d Vice-Presi-
dent; Francis X. Druiding, Recording Secretary;
T. V. Watterson, Jr., Corresponding Secretary;
John V. Walsh, Treasurer; Charles D. Wells,
Historian; Joseph J. Murray, 1st Censor; John
Morrissey, 2d Censor; James G. Taylor, Ser-
geant-at-Arms. Over twenty members were
•present. A programme was arranged for the
— Students in Carroll Hall get more than an
average value for the money they invest in an
athletic ticket. They pay only two dollars a
year, and for this sum they have the use of
football apparel, and are furnished footballs,
enjoy the privilege of witnessing seven games
of football with outside elevens, are furnished
with a ball for basket ball, have the use of a
punching bag, are given the use of balls, bats,
uniforms, bases, and have entrance to all the
baseball games which Varsity plays with other
colleges. And yet there are some chaps in
tha.t Hall who are behind in paying their dues!
Think of witnessing, a football game for. four-
teen cents! The Carrolls enjoy that privilege.
Why, in other institutions the admission fee to
a game is one dollar. , .
— Bones, Steeletto, and Boru got their heads
together! last -week and organized an American
branch of the French Academy. They have
been waiting ever since that wise council
adjourned for the other thirty-seven members
to come in, but so far nobody has given any
sign of a yearning to join them. Anybody
is eligible. All. that is necessary is to supply
your own sword and the green knickerbockers
and cocked hat. If you intend to become one
of them, gentle reader, be sure to get the right
shade of green. Bones had his outfit made
from the cloth of the Sorin Plall billiard table
There are several more tables in Brownson
and Carroll Halls, so there should' not be any-
one without the official uniform. At its next
meeting the Academy intends to crown Bertha
M. Clay’s lastest novel, “Her Girlhood’s Lover,”
and all of her poetical works. .
— A resident of Sorin Hall ..received, his
trunk, a severe shock, and about forty yards of
oil-cloth one day this week. He had been
expecting the trunk for some time, and some
oil-cloth, too; but not forty yards. Hence the
shock. During one of his recent trips to town
he ordered a piece of oil-cloth about a yard
square; but the dealer, either through a mis-
take or a desire to make a larger sale, sent
forty yards. The purchaser had intended to
return the extra thirty-nine yards, of course,
but he cannot now. While absent from his
apartments yesterday afternoon some bright
youths tacked two or three layers on the floor,
made pillow-cases and bed-clothes for him
with a few more yards, and decorated rthe walls
with graceful festoons of the remainder. Now
he spends his days and nights in the law r
library trying to find out who will have to pay
for the oil-cloth.
— In the report last week of the ’97 Class
meeting one important business transaction was
unfortunately omitted. We'beg the ’97’s pardon.
It was Mr. Sullivan’s motion to the effect
that the members of the Class should raise
full beards and moustaches before June (June
’97, of course). This motion was so strongly
objected to by some of the younger members,
on the ground that they had so many classes
to carry that they could not give the matter
the proper attention, that Mr. Sullivan omitted
the full beard clause and made it simply
moustache. . The motion in this form was
seconded by Mr. Lantry. Now those young
men will have troubles of their own. Think
of Mr. Miller, for instance, when the soup
comes his way next Friday: Mr. Miller is
fond of oyster soup. too. Then there are other
members of- the Class who could not grow a
. moustache if all the porous plasters in creation
were placed on their upper lips to draw the
hair out. • And in the meantime the hair invig-
orater manufacturers are getting rich enough
to join the gold party.
-—Once more the Good, the True and the
.Beautiful'has refuted his accuser and brought
consternation unto his enemies. Only the other
NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC.
day, when Wurzer accused him of courting fame,
the orator of Bullit County rose to his feet in
reply: “ Fame, sir? ” lie hissed — and his finely
chiseled nostrils dilated until they swallowed
up his mustache — “ what is fame? It is a
shaved pig with a greased tail, which slips
through the hands of thousands, and then is
accidentally caught by some lucky fellow that
happens to hold on to it. I let the greasy-
tailed quadruped go by me without an effort
to clutch it, sir.”
— Under the able tutorship of Mr. Hering,
the football team is fast getting into shape.
With every practice, the improvement is notice-
able, and if the good work keeps up, we will
unfurl our colors triumphantly on Thursday
afternoon. The men all evince a disposition to
learn, and seem willing to get down to har4
work. This is as it should be. There is one
fault, however, which should be corrected
immediately — and that is too much talk while
on the field. Systematic and effective work
cannot be accomplished without the cessation
of this hindrance. Every man should attend
strictly to the duties of his own position and
pass no comments on the plays of his neighbor.
Let the coach do the talking.
— While the men were resting and practising
signals preparatory to another line-up, Corby
was told by the coach to give the reserves a code
of signals which would not be known to those
who were playing with Varsity. Three of those
who had been playing with the reserves were
resting on the side-lines. “Oh! go in and play sub
on Corby's team,” sneeringly said a bystander.
The remark was a mean one; and but for the fact
that the speaker forms one of many “dogs in
the manger” he would have been treated with
the contempt he deserves. If men are willing to
go on the field, taking their chances of getting
a place on the team, and practising hard that
Notre Dame may have a representative eleven,
they should not be sneered at by a set of miser-
— There are few coaches as energetic in their
work as Hering. He not only spends the
greater part of “ rec ” hours teaching them how
to play, but takes part with them, working
harder than many of the men. It is a pleasure
to find that the candidates respond to his call,
and seem anxious to learn. The team is not
announced yet, although the men are working
by signals. On Thursday they lined up as
follows: Mueller and Lyons, centre; Rosenthal,
and Cavanagh, guards; Schillo and Hesse,
tackles; Bauwens, Hay, Mullen and Murphy,
ends; Taylor, quarter; O’Hara, Palmer and
Silver, halves; O’Hara and Mullen, full. The
practice was hard and began to tell on the
reserves, many of whom left the field before
it was finished. The reserves should understand
that no one is sure of a position on the team.
They ; should, therefore, get out- for practice
Roll of Honor.
Messrs. Arce, Atherton, Barry, Bryan, Bennett, Byrne,
Brennan, Confer, Costello, Crilly, Delaney, Fagan, Golden,
Kegler, Lantry, Mingey, McDonough, Miller, Medley,
McNamara, O’Hara, R. O’Malley, Piquette, Pulskamp,
- Palmer, Rosenthal, Reilly, Reardon, Sheehan, Steele,
Spaulding, Sullivan, Steiner, Weaver.
Messrs. Armijo, Arizpe, W. Berry, G. Berry,. Baab, J.
Brown, Blanchard, Brucker, Barry, R. Brown, E. Brown,
Burke, Cull inane, Crowley, Cavanagh, Conway, Crowdus,
Campbell, Carney, Desmond, Donovan, J. Daley, Dreher,
Dukette, M. Daley, Dowd, Dncey, Fadley, Fetherstone,
Fitzgerald, Franey, Farrell, Frazer, M. Flanigan, Fox,
Follen, C. Flanigan, Foulks, Fehr, Falvey, Guilfoyle, R.
Garza, Gilbert, Grady, Girardi, C. Garza, Hartung, Hay,
Hessel, Hayes, Hoban, Hagerty, Haley, Hermann, E,
Hake, Hengen, L. Hake, Hanhauser, Jelonak, Kidder.
Kraus, Kearney, Konzen, Kuerze, I. Kaul, F. Kaul,
Koehler, Lyons, Long, Lutz, Landers, Lowery, Mc-
Donald, McKenzie, McConn, McCormack, McMillan,
McGinnis, Massey, Martin, Miller, Maurus, Monahan,
Mulcrone, Morris, Morrisson, Moorehead, Meagher,
Meyers, Murphy, Neizer, F. O’Shaughnessy, O’Fhua,
M. O'Shaughnessy, O’Brien, Pickett, Pendleton, Paras,
Putnam, Pirn, Powell, Quandt, Quinn, Reed, Reinhard,
Rahe, Singler, Schulte, Shillington, Stulfauth, Smoger,
San Roman, Scott, Speake, Summers, Spaulding. J.
Tuohy, Tong, Taylor, C. Tuhey, Thiele Thams, Tom-
linson, Toba, Voght, Welker, Wieczorke, Wheadock,
Wimberg, Wilson, Wade, Whitehead, Wigg, O. Zaehnle,
Messrs. Abrahams, P. Armijo, R. Armijo, Beardslee,
Breslin, Becker, Burns, Burke, Berger, Bebont, Cowie,
Cornell, Coquijlard, Conklin, T. Condon, Curtis, Corby,
Devine, Drejer, Druiding, Dellone, Dinnen, Darst,
Dugas, Ellwanger, Elliott, F. Ward, A, Fish, Flynn,
Frank, Fennessey, Funke, Foley Girsch, Gimbel, Gros-
sart, Houck, Hagerty, Hoban, Herron, Hawkins, John-
' son, P. Kuntz, J. Kuntz, Kieffer, G. Kasper, Kirkland,
Kiley, Klein, Kelly, Kilgallen, Krug, Land, Lyle, Leach,
McIntyre, J. McMahon, O. McMahon, McCarthy, Mc-
Elroy, McNamara, McMaster. McDonald, MeCallen, T.
Mulcare, J. Mulcare, Morgan, Mooney, Moss, Moore,
Merz, Moxley, R. Murray, J. Murray, T. Murray, Maher,
Meagher, Morrissey, Noonan, Newell, Nolan, J. Naugh-
ton, D. Naughton, T. Naughton, O’Malley, F. O’Brien, G.
O’Brien, 'O’Neill, Pyle,Pulford, Padden, Powers, Putnam,
Pohlman, Quinlan, Richon, Reuss, Swan, J. Scherrer,
W. Scherrer, Schaffhauser, Sexton, Shiels, Sample,
Sullivan, Shillington, Schmidtt, E. Sheekey, J. Sheekey,
Selvin, Shea, Sanford, Stengel, J. Taylor, Waite, J. Ward,
Wilson, Wagonman, Wells, Walsh, Watterson, Ward,
ST. EDWARD’S HALL.
Masters Atkinson, Arnold, Abercrombie, Abrahams,
Allyn, Butler, Bosworth, C. Bode, F. Bode, Blanchfield,
Beardslee, Cowie, Clarke, Casparis, Cressy, Cunnea,
Cotter, Coquillard, Davis, Dorian, Dugas, Ebbert, Frwin,
Engelmann, Frost, Fetter, Freeman, Franey. Griffith,
Graham, Hall, Hart, Hubbard, Kasper, Kelly, Lovell,
Lawton, P. Manion, E. Manion, McMaster, E. McCarthy,
G. McCarthy, L. McBride, P. McBride, J. McBride, W.
McBride, M. McMahon, W. McMahon, J. McMahon,
McConnell, J. McGeeney, E. McGeeney, Paul, Philips,
G. Quertimont, E. Quertimont, Reese, Reynolds, Spillard,
Steele, Strauss, Shields, Terhune, R. Van Sant, L: Van
Sant, Welch, Wilde, F. Weidman, G. Weidman, Burton,