There is a 1923 book titled “Church Latin for Beginners: An Elementary Course of Exercises in Ecclesiastical Latin” by Miss J. I. Lowe (online here) which contains two prefaces, as well as an appendix with a handy list of syntactical usages. At the time Catholic services were still held in Latin, so such a book had an obvious value.
The first preface, by a Canon William Barry, opens with the words:
I was very glad to see in print this little volume, which deals with our Church Latin; and I hope that it will be widely read and studied. The want of such a help has long been evident. Classical or heathen Latin is a beautiful creation of genius ; but as a language it is dead. The Latin of Catholic Christendom is a living literature; great portions of it are every day read and recited all over the world, by thousands on thousands of priests, seminarists, religious orders of men and women. But they have never been taught the grammar of it, seldom have learned by reflection how marvellous a transformation it is of a language singularly hard to refashion ; yet the miracle stands perfect in their sight.
Perfect I call it, and take my position close to such masters of style as Ruskin, Matthew Arnold, and J. A. Symonds, whose hearty recognition of what another has termed “baptized Latin” was enhanced by their Oxford training in the classics. Not a degenerate offspring of Roman speech in decay, but a most original and happy adaptation of the popular idiom to sacred uses, our literature of sanctuary, cloister, and the schools is a world in itself.
This is followed by a preface by Ronald Knox, which makes many interesting points, but begins with this:
There is a story told in one of our Catholic Colleges (and probably in all of them) which throws, it is to be feared, a sinister light upon the easy familiarity with which altar-boys, choirs, and even congregations patter out their ecclesiastical Latin. A boy in Latin class was exhibiting a mulish ignorance as to the meaning of the word tantus, and the class master, with that fatal tendency we all have to adopt the method of cross-examination, was trying to get the right meaning out of him. At last in despair he suggested: “Well, you have met the words Tantum ergo Sacramentum before; at least you know what that means.” At which a great light dawned upon the boy, and he said : “Oh, yes, sir, I know that : it means ‘Down in adoration falling.'” Most Catholic schoolmasters have had similar, if not quite so poignant, experiences .
No doubt it was ever so. All the same, we are the poorer for the loss of this kind of Latin.




