Latin graces at Commons

This article was published in Trinity News on 25 November, 2008, without a headline, the fifth 'Old Trinity' column.

Latin graces at Commons

THAT THE LATIN graces continue to be recited before and after Commons every evening in the old Dining Hall is a victory of the perennial over the transitory. These fine prayers, composed by William Bedell, who was provost from 1627 to 1629, are taken for granted, but such a venerable part of our college’s history deserves attention.

Each night an appointed “waiter” ascends the pulpit to read the time-honoured prayers. Ten students are appointed to waiterships every year and, while the job is not restricted to them, these positions are usually filled by scholars.

HA Hinkson, with characteristic sarcasm, says the waiters of his time were “ten scholars of blameless lives and exemplary character”. In his Student Life, published in 1892, he also makes a jab at the eminent fellows: “If a student be seen talking during grace he is liable to be sharply rebuked by one of the junior fellows, whose learning is only equalled by their piety and godliness.”

The curious pulpit from which grace is read is known as the “egg cup”. It is said that it was originally in the old chapel of 1683, which would make it older than all of the buildings in college, and almost as old as the college graces themselves.

Commons begins with a kick on the door, and the waiter says, in Latin, from memory: “The eyes of all hope in thee, O Lord. Thou givest them meat in due season. Thou openest thy hand, and fillest with blessing every living creature. ...”

These sentences are from Psalm 144. While there are some variations among the other colleges which use these lines to begin their graces, our version is exactly as in the Sixto-Clementine Vulgate, the Latin edition of the Bible published by Pope Clement VIII.

The Psalm 144 (Psalm 145 in the Hebrew bible) verses are also used, with variations, at Brasenose, Keble, Merton and New College at Oxford, and at Christ’s, Clare, Emmanuel, Jesus, King’s, Sidney Sussex, St Catherine’s, St John’s and Trinity College at Cambridge. Provost Bedell, who had been a fellow of Emmanuel, would have heard these lines many times when at Cambridge.

The waiter continues the “before meat” prayer: “... Have mercy on us, we beseech thee, O Lord, and bless thy gifts, which from thy kindness we are about to receive, through Christ our Lord.” This sentence, almost word for word, is the ante cibum prayer at Trinity College, Oxford. It is probably of the same origin as the familiar “Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts, which of thy bounty we are about to receive, through Christ our Lord.”

That the Dublin grace consists of a combination of the graces of Trinity Oxford and Trinity Cambridge may simply be coincidence, but it may be a nod by Bedell to the two English colleges with which we share our name.

All in hall then proceed to fill their bellies as the three courses are served in quick succession.

Once the meal is finished and libations have been poured out to the earls of Iveagh, the same student mounts the egg cup to read the “after meat” grace, much of which is unique to our college.

Again in Latin, he begins: “To thee be praise, to thee be honour, to thee be glory, O blessed and glorious Trinity.  Blessed be the name of the Lord now and forever. ...”

This beginning is very similar to the start of the prayer used after meals at Clare College, Cambridge, an establishment which was founded over 250 years before our own. The triple praise corresponds to the three persons of the Holy Trinity. “Blessed be the name of the Lord” is a quote from the first chapter of Job.

Continuing: “... We praise thee, most gracious Father, for the most serene ones, Queen Elizabeth the founder of this college, James its most munificent builder, Charles its preserver, and our other benefactors...”

Queen Elizabeth I, as is well known, founded this college in 1592. Her immediate successors to the throne of England and Ireland, James I was responsible for granting generous amounts of land to the college in the 1610s, while Charles I was king during the time of the composition of the graces. All three monarchs issued charters to the new Trinity College.

One must wonder what Catholic students, over the years, thought of having to praise God the Father for Elizabeth – excommunicated and deposed by Pope St Pius V – and her heretical successors. It wasn’t until 1873, when religious tests were abolished, that Catholics could attend Trinity. That year, a Catholic scholar asked to be excused from saying grace, and was supported by the vicar general of the Archdiocese of Dublin, who declared that “no Catholic could with safe conscience take any part, active or passive, in such a prayer”.

McDowell and Webb, in their Academic History, put this declaration down to the Church of the time “riding high on the ultramontane tide”. There seems to have been no problem with the prayer since that time, even when “the ban” was lifted in 1970.

The waiter then finishes: “...asking thee, as we make use of these thy gifts rightly and for thy glory at this time, that we might exalt in thee together with the faithful happily in the future, through Christ our Lord.”

The divine source of all wisdom thus acknowledged, all remain standing for the fellows’ exit, after which the undergraduate rabble stays standing for the scholars’ departure.

The ancient prayers are not always said with the dignity they demand. The unedifying sound of a giddy scholaress racing illiterately through the graces assaults the ears of the assembled diners more often than one would hope. But nothing under the sun is new: an 1898 issue of the student rag TCD called for the university’s professor of oratory to “offer instruction to the misguided young men to whom is relegated the task of saying grace”. “Sensitive ears”, it recorded, were forced to endure “barbarisms produced by faulty phrasing”.

It must be something close to a miracle that these graces have escaped the revolutionary wrath of today’s progressives. One would expect Christian prayers to have been excised from college life by indignant modernists, whose abundant zeal is usually matched by their intolerance.

But, laus Deo, the graces remain prescribed by the statutes. Long may they be preserved from the wretched onslaught of change. Amen.

Before meat

Oculi omnium in te sperant Domine. Tu das iis escam eorum in tempore opportuno. Aperis tu manum tuam, et imples omne animal benedictione tua. Miserere nostri te quaesumus Domine, tuisque donis, quae de tua benignitate sumus percepturi, benedicito per Christum Dominum nostrum.

The eyes of all hope in thee, O Lord. Thou givest them meat in due season. Thou openest thy hand, and fillest with blessing every living creature. Have mercy on us, we beseech thee, O Lord, and bless thy gifts, which from thy kindness we are about to receive, through Christ our Lord.

After meat

Tibi laus, tibi honor, tibi gloria, O beata et gloriosa Trinitas. Sit nomen Domini benedictum et nunc et in perpetuum. Laudamus te, benignissime Pater, pro serenissimis, regina Elizabetha hujus Collegii conditrice, Jacobo ejusdem munificentissimo auctore, Carolo conservatore, caeterisque benefactoribus nostris, rogantes te, ut his tuis donis recte et ad tuam gloriam utentes in hoc saeculo, te una cum fidelibus in futuro feliciter perfruamur, per Christum Dominum nostrum.

To thee be praise, to thee be honour, to thee be glory, O blessed and glorious Trinity.  Blessed be the name of the Lord now and forever. We praise thee, most gracious Father, for the most serene ones, Queen Elizabeth the founder of this college, James its most munificent builder, Charles its preserver, and our other benefactors, asking thee, as we make use of these thy gifts rightly and for thy glory at this time, that we might exalt in thee together with the faithful happily in the future, through Christ our Lord.

A bright future for college's ancient dining tradition?

This piece was published in Trinity News on 15 April, 2008, with this introduction:

“Peter Henry was very impressed by his recent experiences in England, where he dined at Oriel in Oxford and at Homerton and Emmanuel in Cambridge. He argues for the improvement and promotion of our own evening meal, Commons.”

A bright future for college’s ancient dining tradition?

STUDENTS AT Trinity College inherit an immemorial custom which, despite its value, is rarely taken full advantage of. A communal evening meal was considered integral to university education in the past, yet Commons nowadays is attended almost solely by Scholars and the odd Fellow.

The Provost, Fellows, Scholars and Sizars are entitled to free Commons. But it’s not just the presence of the neediest and the most studious students at Commons which deters the average undergrad. With the fee at just under €20 for a rushed three-course meal, it makes more sense to spend your money on a few litres of chocolate milk or some homemade cider from the College off-licence.

Yet at England’s ancient universities, college evening meals, usually called “Hall”, are extremely popular with students. Most colleges have a regular “Formal Hall” where smart dress is expected and a gown is recommended, the food is better than the usual daily fare and students have to book in advance to be sure of a seat.

If our own establishment took some steps towards promoting Commons as a meal which is not just for Scholars, it could have a healthy future and become a popular evening venue for students.

As it stands, the occasional student goes to Commons once during his years at Trinity, usually for novelty’s sake or because he has a Scholar friend.

Awareness is certainly lacking. There are, without doubt, some unfortunate students who have never heard of “Commons”. There are some things every undergraduate knows about Trinity: walking under the Campanile is a bad idea, this is the last ever Trinity Ball, and you can bring your own cans to the Pavilion Bar. Commons deserves a place on this list and some promotion would make a big difference.

Some initiatives wouldn’t go astray. First, the introduction of a bulk discount for Commons tickets would allow the average student to attend with reasonable regularity without breaking the bank. If the price was seen as reasonable, it would surely encourage more students to dine in. Indeed, value for money is probably more important to most people than simple cost: most students have plenty of cash and the poor get a grant.

A further concession might be made to the clubs and societies. Many of them, indeed, do attend Commons at Christmas, but some discounts for groups would undoubtedly bring more students to Commons and help make eating-in a more central part of the undergraduate experience.

A little more time allowed in the Dining Hall would do no harm at all. Perhaps the grace after meat could be said after the main course? This would allow the scholars to skip off back to their books and those who want to indulge in further intelligent discussion could do so, unrushed, over dessert and coffee. Failing this, even twenty minutes’ more time would improve the Commons experience.

Good food is always desirable. A recent review of Commons in The Irish Times pointed out that “pretty vile” food was standard fare even in the 1980s, so perhaps there isn’t so much cause for complaint. Of course, Trinity’s kitchens are graced with proud chefs, who will undoubtedly rise to any challenge to provide ever-more appealing dishes in the evenings.

A glass of stout is central to the Trinity dining experience and excuses should be tolerated no more. Lines from waiting staff such as “Guinness is only for scholars” and “only four glasses of Guinness per table” need to be exposed for the miserable lies that they are. A liberal attitude towards the provision of the drink, in honour of former Chancellors of the University Edward and Rupert Guinness, would go a long way towards instilling a love of Commons in the students of Trinity.

With the College’s modern guardians of morals being averse to the pleasures of alcohol, surely no argument could be made against the suggestion that a food-based event be promoted in College. Indeed, perhaps the same abstinent Fellows and Fellows-aspirant will spearhead the drive to bring Commons to the student hordes.

It should be noted that overindulgence in good food can itself be a sin. However, I suspect that the College Alcohol Policy was not written to protect our souls from an extended stay in purgatory, but rather to spare the porters and the Junior Dean the hassle of having to deal with intemperate young pups.

The introduction of once-a-month in-term formal Commons would also make Commons attractive to the average student. Some table cloths, a wine list and some slightly better food would make all the difference. And yes, a dress code: formality makes an evening special, and there’s always the local institute of technology if you have a complex about these kinds of things.

Scholars: wear your gowns! The right to wear the bachelors’ gown and a velvet cap was once a major incentive for the hard-working Schol hopeful and a hall full of gown-clad diners would certainly add to the atmosphere at Commons.

Perhaps some students, with more affection for alcohol than my sober self, may be deterred by the epicurean emphasis to dining in College. They will be pleased to hear that, at the analogous Halls at Oxford and Cambridge colleges, an undergraduate’s dining experience is sometimes merely the prelude to a night of bibulous intellectual conversation at the college bar, often followed by a crapulous stagger back to rooms.

But, of course, that kind of thing is not encouraged.

Imitation of English universities for imitation’s sake is a bad idea and that is not what is being proposed here. But dining is certainly one area where students at Oxford and Cambridge (and Durham, Nottingham and Bristol) have an advantage over us. If some brave individual – student or staff member – would take on the noble cause of the promotion of Commons, he would be doing a huge service to the university and its students.