"The college is consecrated to the divine child, Jesus, whom the pupils will strive to imitate, growing daily like him in grace, wisdom, knowledge and virtue."
The words of the founder and first president of Blackrock College, Pere Jules Leman, still carry weight there. A huge statue of the Virgin Mary dominates the main corridor where pupils pass on their way to class.
In the corridors one passes a large number of priests and along the walls are framed images including those of John Charles McQuaid and Frank Duff, one of the founders of the Legion of Mary.
One could not be in any doubt about the school's Catholic ethos which, along with its achievements in rugby, dominate its history. A dedication to sporting achievement and divinity are still part of the school's mission, according to Father Sean Casey, the president of the college, a Holy Ghost father since the 1960s.
He says Blackrock boys are not arrogant, but are used to "pushing themselves forward and achieving what they want". As in other Holy Ghost Fathers' schools, the boys are imbued with a collegiate identity and looking out for your fellow 'Rock boy is demanded from all pupils.
Like a conveyor belt, the Holy Ghost Fathers' schools - Blackrock, St Michael's, St Mary's and Templeogue in Dublin, plus Rockwell College in Tipperary - have been churning out future lawyers, doctors, dentists and businessmen for decades.
While Blackrock's principal, Father Cormac O Brolchain, is strongly opposed to publishing school league tables, if it ever happens Blackrock College is unlikely to be in the bottom half.
"We offer 23 Leaving Certificate subjects, including newer options like Japanese, and that is what we stand on, the range of subjects we offer and the activities we offer the pupils," says Father Casey.
At the school's radio station, BCR (103.8FM), a huddle of pupils are compiling their final packages before they go on air on November 22nd.
One tells of interviewing former paramilitary prisoners from Northern Ireland in recent weeks. When asked if this was an intimidating experience for a schoolboy, he simply shrugs, "What do you mean?"
Downstairs Father Casey watches the pupils pass along the oak-panelled corridor and points to photographs of winning rugby teams hanging on the wall as proof of the school's lineage.
As he passes the bulging trophy cabinet, a tapping sound from another room gives a clue to the forces which are imposing change upon the school and its four sister colleges. Father Casey walks into one of the school's computer rooms and points to a large group tapping away at their PCs. "In a few years you can expect to see them with laptops on their desks," he says.
The computer teacher watching over them, Mr Colm Mealy, says in the future the school's computers will be networked and all pupils will have email accounts. But Father Casey points at some of the older buildings, some dating from between 1860 and 1880, and sighs, "You can't put laptops in there."
He says a major redevelopment of the college is needed and several buildings will have to be completely altered internally, although the facades will be maintained. But after more than a year as college president, his thoughts are on more than fixtures and fittings.
"We expect to have a lay principal in the near future and I am looking at appointing lay management to run the school. We can no longer operate the way we used to," he says.
He is even considering withdrawing into the background himself and says the days of a single school manager "are over".
Also over is Blackrock's boarding school, which for generations has taken in the sons of middleclass rural families, moulding them in a Catholic environment and then propelling them into the professions with effortless ease.
Father Casey remembers many of them and says he hopes they will help the school in its fundraising for the future.
Not all the past pupils of the school became the foot soldiers of middle-class Ireland. Bob Geldof passed under the famous metal arches and Father Casey, who taught him, restricts his comments about the pop singer to "He spoke his mind".
The school's first prospectus said the greatest attention would "be paid to all that is useful for the moral and religious training of the pupils." But along with that came "awful hours, sometimes bad food and a spartan lifestyle," recalls Father Casey.
However, the subsequent success achieved by those boarders would suggest the daily grind of the study hall made an impact, he adds. "The dramatic growth in community and comprehensive schools in rural areas has reduced the need for boarding schools among rural families."
In 1960 Blackrock had 285 boarders. It now has 161 and from next year no new applications for first-year places will be accepted. The fall in vocations has not just sapped normal pastoral endeavours, but has meant that the sometimes boisterous boarders can no longer be supervised, says Father Casey.
He corrects himself. "It could be done, but at a cost which would greatly exceed the fee levels we currently have to charge". Considering that the fee is £5,200 a year for boarders, it is understandable that many could not live with any further increases.
Father Casey is not uncomfortable with the increasing withdrawal of the clergy from education.
"It will give us more time to take on pastoral work and deal with the students' spiritual needs. When the first lay principal was appointed people were a little concerned, but now most people realise the quality of the education should not suffer," he says.
When asked how staff and parents have reacted to the news of the boarding school closure, which signals a wider withdrawal from school management by the order, Father Casey says, "Some have found it harder to accept than others. But there is a new world out there and we can't just sit still."