THE CULTURE OF THE MIDDLE AGES
97. The interest of the Middle Ages lies by no means exclusively in the
statesmanship of kings and emperors, their victories and defeats; in the
policy of popes and bishops; or even in feudalism and Europe's escape
from it. Important as all these are, we should have but a very imperfect
idea of the period which we have been studying if we left it without
considering the intellectual life and the art of the time, the books
that were written, the universities that were founded, and the
cathedrals that were built.
[Sidenote: General use of Latin in the Middle Ages.]
To begin with, the Middle Ages differed from our own time in the very
general use then made of Latin, both in writing and speaking. In the
thirteenth century, and long after, all books that made any claim to
learning were written in Latin;[159] the professors in the universities
lectured in Latin, friends wrote to one another in Latin, and state
papers, treaties, and legal documents were drawn up in the same
language. The ability of every educated person to make use of Latin, as
well as of his native tongue, was a great advantage at a time when there
were many obstacles to intercourse among the various nations. It helps
to explain, for example, the remarkable way in which the pope kept in
touch with all the clergymen of western Christendom, and the ease with
which students, friars, and merchants could wander from one country to
another. There is no more interesting or important revolution than that
by which the language of the people in the various European countries
gradually pushed aside the ancient tongue and took its place, so that
even scholars scarcely ever think now of writing books in Latin.
In order to understand how it came about that two languages, the Latin
and the native speech, were both commonly used in all the countries of
western Europe all through the Middle Ages, we must glance at the origin
of the modern languages. These all fall into two quite distinct groups,
the Germanic and the Romance.
[Sidenote: The Germanic languages derived from the dialects of the
German barbarians.]
Those German peoples who had continued to live outside of the Roman
Empire, or who, during the invasions, had not settled far enough within
its bounds to be led, like the Franks in Gaul, to adopt the tongue of
those they had conquered, naturally adhered to the language they had
always used, namely, the particular Germanic dialect which their
forefathers had spoken for untold generations. From the various
languages spoken by the German barbarians, modern German, English,
Dutch, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, and Icelandic are derived.
[Sidenote: The Romance languages derived from the spoken Latin.]
The second group of languages developed within the territory which had
formed a part of the Roman Empire, and includes modern French, Italian,
Spanish, and Portuguese. It has now been clearly proved, by a very
minute study of the old forms of words, that these Romance languages
were one and all derived from the _spoken_ Latin, employed by the
soldiers, merchants, and people at large. This differed considerably
from the elaborate and elegant written Latin which was used, for
example, by Cicero and Cæsar. It was undoubtedly much simpler in its
grammar and doubtless varied a good deal in different regions;--a Gaul,
for instance, could not pronounce the words like an Italian. Moreover,
in conversation people did not always use the same words as those in the
books. For example, a horse was commonly spoken of as _caballus_,
whereas a writer would use the word _equus_; it is from _caballus_ that
the word for horse is derived in Spanish, Italian, and French
(_caballo_, _cavallo_, _cheval_).
As time went on the spoken language diverged farther and farther from
the written. Latin is a troublesome speech on account of its complicated
inflections and grammatical rules, which can be mastered only after a
great deal of study. The people of the Roman provinces and the incoming
barbarians naturally paid very little attention to the niceties of
syntax and found easy ways of saying what they wished.[160] Yet several
centuries elapsed after the German invasions before there was anything
written in the language of conversation. So long as the uneducated could
understand the correct Latin of the books when they heard it read or
spoken, there was no necessity of writing anything in their familiar
daily speech. But the gulf between the spoken and the written language
had become so great by the time Charlemagne came to the throne, that he
advised that sermons should be given thereafter in the language of the
people, who, apparently, could no longer follow the Latin. The Strasburg
oaths[161] are, however, about the first example which has come down to
us of the speech which was growing into French.
[Sidenote: Earliest examples of the Germanic languages.]
[Sidenote: Gothic.]
98. As for the Germanic languages, one at least was reduced to writing
even before the break-up of the Empire. An eastern bishop, Ulfilas (d.
381), had undertaken to convert the Goths while they were still living
north of the Danube before the battle of Adrianople. In order to carry
on his work, Ulfilas translated a great part of the Bible into Gothic,
using the Greek letters to represent the sounds. With the single
exception of the Gothic, there is no example of writing in any German
language before Charlemagne's time. There is no doubt, however, that the
Germans possessed an unwritten literature, which was passed down by word
of mouth for several centuries before any of it was written out.
Charlemagne caused certain ancient poems to be collected, which
presumably celebrated the great deeds of the German heroes during the
invasions. These invaluable specimens of ancient German are said to have
been destroyed by the order of Louis the Pious, who was shocked by their
paganism. The great German epic, the _Song of the Niebelungs_, was not
reduced to writing until the end of the twelfth century, after it had
been transmitted orally for many generations.
[Sidenote: Ancient English, or Anglo-Saxon.]
The oldest form of English is commonly called Anglo-Saxon and is so
different from the language that we use that, in order to read it, it
must be learned like a foreign language. We hear of an English poet,
Cædmon, as early as Bede's time, a century before Charlemagne. A
manuscript of an Anglo-Saxon epic, called _Beowulf_, has been preserved
which belongs perhaps to the close of the eighth century. The interest
which King Alfred displayed in the mother tongue has already been
mentioned. This old form of our language prevailed until after the
Norman Conquest; the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, which does not close until
1154, is written in pure Anglo-Saxon. Then changes may be noticed in the
language as it appears in the books of the time, and decade by decade it
approaches more nearly to that which we speak. Although the first public
document in English (1256), which belongs to the reign of Henry III, is
scarcely to be understood without study, a poem written in his son's
time is tolerably intelligible.[162]
English literature was destined one day to arouse the admiration of the
peoples across the Channel and exercise an important influence upon
other literatures. In the Middle Ages, however, French, not English, was
the most important of the vernacular languages of western Europe. In
France a vast literature was produced in the language of the people
during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries which profoundly affected
the books written in Italy, Spain, Germany, and England.
[Sidenote: French and Provençal.]
99. Two quite different languages had gradually developed in France from
the spoken Latin of the Roman Empire. If a line were drawn on the map
from La Rochelle, on the Atlantic, eastward to the Alps, crossing the
Rhone a little below Lyons, it would give a general idea of the limits
of the two tongues. To the north, French was spoken; to the south, in a
region bounded by the Pyrenees and the Alps, Provençal.[163]
[Sidenote: Mediæval French romances.]
Very little in the ancient French language written before the year 1100
has been preserved. The West Franks undoubtedly began much earlier to
sing of their heroes, of the great deeds of Clovis, Dagobert, and
Charles Martel. These famous rulers were, however, completely
overshadowed later by Charlemagne, who became the unrivaled hero of
mediæval poetry and romance. It was believed that he had reigned for a
hundred and twenty-five years, and the most marvelous exploits were
attributed to him and his knights. He was supposed, for instance, to
have led a crusade to Jerusalem. Such themes as these--more legend than
history--were woven into long epics, which were the first written
literature of the Frankish people. These poems, combined with the
stories of adventure, developed a spirit of patriotic enthusiasm among
the French which made them regard "fair France" as the especial care of
Providence.
[Sidenote: The _Song of Roland_.]
It is little wonder that the best of these long poems came to be looked
upon as the national epic of the French. This is the _Song of Roland_,
probably written just before the First Crusade. It tells the story of
Charlemagne's retreat from Spain, during which Roland, one of his
commanders, lost his life in a romantic encounter in the defiles of the
Pyrenees.
That death was on him he knew full well;
Down from his head to his heart it fell.
On the grass beneath a pine tree's shade,
With face to earth, his form he laid,
Beneath him placed he his horn and sword,
And turned his face to the heathen horde.
Thus hath he done the sooth to show,
That Karl and his warriors all may know,
That the gentle count a conqueror died.[164]
[Sidenote: Romances of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.]
In the latter part of the twelfth century the romances of King Arthur
and his Knights of the Round Table begin to appear. These enjoyed great
popularity in all western Europe for centuries, and they are by no means
forgotten yet. Arthur, of whose historical existence no one can be quite
sure, was supposed to have been king of Britain shortly after the Saxons
gained a foothold in the island. In other long poems of the time,
Alexander the Great, Cæsar, and other ancient worthies appear as heroes.
The absolute disregard of historical facts and the tendency to represent
the warriors of Troy and Rome as mediæval knights, show the inability of
the mediæval mind to understand that the past could have been different
from the present. All these romances are full of picturesque adventures
and present a vivid picture of the valor and loyalty of the true knight,
as well as of his ruthlessness and contempt for human life.[165]
[Sidenote: The _fabliaux_ and the fables.]
Besides the long and elaborate epics, like _Roland_, and the romances in
verse and prose, there were numberless short stories in verse (the
_fabliaux_), which usually dealt with the incidents of everyday life,
especially with the comical ones. Then there were the fables, the most
famous of which are the stories of Reynard the Fox, which were satires
upon the customs of the time, particularly the weaknesses of the priests
and monks.
[Sidenote: The troubadours.]
100. Turning now to southern France, the beautiful songs of the
troubadours, which were the glory of the Provençal tongue, reveal a gay
and polished society at the courts of the numerous feudal princes. The
rulers not merely protected and encouraged the poets; they aspired to be
poets themselves and to enter the ranks of the troubadours, as the
composers of these elegant verses were called. These songs were always
sung to an accompaniment on some instrument, usually the lute. Those who
merely sang them, without being themselves poets, were called
_jongleurs_. The troubadours and jongleurs traveled from court to court,
not only in France, but north into Germany and south into Italy,
carrying with them the southern French poetry and customs. We have few
examples of Provençal before the year 1100, but from that time on, for
two centuries, countless songs were written, and many of the troubadours
enjoyed an international reputation. The terrible Albigensian crusade
brought misery and death into the sprightly circles which had gathered
about the count of Toulouse and others who had treated the heretics too
leniently. But the literary critic traces signs of decline in the
Provençal verse even before this disaster.[166]
[Sidenote: Chivalry.]
For the student of history, the chief interest of the epics of northern
France and the songs of the South lies in the insight that they give
into the life and aspirations of this feudal period. These are usually
summed up in the term _chivalry_, or _knighthood_, of which a word may
properly be said here, since we should know little of it were it not for
the literature of which we have been speaking. The knights play the
chief rôle in all the mediæval romances; and, as many of the troubadours
belonged to the knightly class, they naturally have much to say of it in
their songs.
Chivalry was not a formal institution established at any particular
moment. Like feudalism, with which it was closely connected, it had no
founder, but appeared spontaneously throughout western Europe to meet
the needs and desires of the period. We learn from Tacitus that even in
his time the Germans considered the moment a solemn one when the young
warrior was first invested with the arms of a soldier. "This was the
sign that the youth had reached manhood; this was his first honor." It
is probably a survival of this feeling which we find in the idea of
knighthood. When the youth of good family had been carefully trained to
ride his horse, use his sword, and manage his hawk in the hunt, he was
made a _knight_ by a ceremony in which the Church took part, although
the knighthood was actually conferred by an older knight.
[Sidenote: Nature of the knightly order.]
The knight was a Christian soldier, and he and his fellows were supposed
to form, in a way, a separate order with high ideals of the conduct
befitting their class. Knighthood was not, however, membership in an
association with officers and a written constitution. It was an ideal,
half-imaginary society,--a society to which even those who enjoyed the
title of king or duke were proud to belong. One was not born a knight as
he might be born a duke or count, and could become one only through the
ceremony mentioned above. One might be a noble and still not belong to
the knightly order, and, on the other hand, one baseborn might be raised
to knighthood on account of some valorous deed.
[Sidenote: The ideals of the knight.]
The knight must, in the first place, be a Christian and must obey and
defend the Church on all occasions. He must respect all forms of
weakness and defend the helpless wherever he might find them. He must
fight the infidel ceaselessly, pitilessly, and never give way before the
enemy. He must perform all his feudal duties, be faithful in all things
to his lord, never lie or violate his plighted word. He must be generous
and give freely and ungrudgingly to the needy. He must be faithful to
his lady and be ready to defend her person and her honor at all costs.
Everywhere he must be the champion of the right against injustice and
oppression. In short, chivalry was the Christianized profession of arms.
In the stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table there
is a beautiful picture of the ideal knight. The dead Lancelot is
addressed by one of his sorrowing companions as follows: "Thou wert the
courtliest knight that ever bare shield, and thou wert the truest friend
to thy lover that ever bestrode horse, and thou wert the truest lover of
a sinful man [i.e., among sinful men] that ever loved woman, and thou
wert the kindest man that ever struck with sword, and thou wert the
goodliest person that ever came among the press of knights, and thou
wert the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among
ladies, and thou wert the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever
put spear in breast."
[Sidenote: The German minnesingers.]
[Sidenote: Walther von der Vogelweide.]
[Sidenote: _Parsifal._]
The Germans also made their contribution to the literature of chivalry.
The German poets of the thirteenth century are called _minnesingers_.
Like the troubadours, whom they greatly admired, they usually sang of
love (German, _Minne_). The most famous of the minnesingers was Walther
von der Vogelweide (d. about 1228), whose songs are full of charm and of
enthusiasm for his German fatherland. Wolfram von Eschenbach (d. about
1225) in his story of _Parsifal_ gives the long and sad adventures of a
knight in search of the Holy Grail,--the sacred vessel which had held
the blood of Christ. Only those perfectly pure in thought, word, and
deed could hope to behold it. Parsifal failed to speak a word of
sympathy to a suffering man and was forced to undergo a long atonement.
At last he learned that only through pity and humility and faith in God
could he hope to find the Grail.
[Sidenote: Difference between the earlier and later ideals of chivalry.]
The chivalry depicted in the _Song of Roland_ and the more serious poems
of northern France is of a severe type, in which the service of the
Church, especially against the infidel, and the obligations to the
feudal suzerain have the predominant place. On the other hand, in the
Arthurian legends, and, above all, in the songs of the troubadours, the
ideal conduct of a polished and valorous gentleman, especially toward
the lady of his choice, finds expression. The later romances of chivalry
(in the thirteenth and following centuries) deal very largely with
knighthood in the latter sense of the word. No one, indeed, any longer
thought of fighting the infidel; for the Crusades were over and the
knight was forced to seek adventures nearer home.[167]
[Sidenote: General ignorance of the past.]
101. So long as all books had to be copied by hand, there were, of
course, but few of them compared with modern times. The literature of
which we have been speaking was not in general read, but was listened
to, as it was sung or recited by those who made it their profession.
Wherever the wandering jongleur appeared he was sure of a delighted
audience for his songs and stories, both serious and light. Those
unfamiliar with Latin could, however, learn little of the past; there
were no translations of the great classics of Greece and Rome, of Homer,
Plato, Cicero, or Livy. All that they could know of ancient history was
derived from the fantastic romances referred to above, which had for
their theme the quite preposterous deeds ascribed to Alexander the
Great, Æneas, and Cæsar. As for their own history, the epics relating to
the earlier course of events in France and the rest of Europe were
hopelessly confused. The writers attributed a great part of the acts of
the Frankish kings, from Clovis to Pippin, to Charlemagne. The first
real history written in French is Villehardouin's account of the capture
of Constantinople by the crusaders (in 1204), which he witnessed.
[Sidenote: Mediæval popular science.]
What we should call scientific literature was practically wanting. It is
true that there was a kind of encyclopedia in verse which gave a great
deal of misinformation about things in general. Every one believed in
strange animals like the unicorn, the dragon, and the phoenix, and in
still stranger habits of real animals. A single example will suffice to
show what passed for zoölogy in the thirteenth century.
"There is a little beast made like a lizard and such is its nature that
it will extinguish fire should it fall into it. The beast is so cold and
of such a quality that fire is not able to burn it, nor will trouble
happen in the place where it shall be." This beast signifies the holy
man who lives by faith, who "will never have hurt from fire nor will
hell burn him.... This beast we name also by another name,--it is called
salamander, as you find written,--it is accustomed to mount into
apple-trees, poisons the apples, and in a well where it shall fall it
will poison the water."
It will be noticed that the habits of the animals were supposed to have
some spiritual meaning and carry with them a lesson for mankind. It may
be added that this and similar stories were centuries old. The most
improbable things were repeated from generation to generation without
its occurring to any one to inquire if there was any truth in them. Even
the most learned men of the time believed in astrology and in the
miraculous virtues of herbs and gems. For instance, Albertus Magnus, one
of the most distinguished scientists of the thirteenth century, agrees
that a sapphire will drive away boils and that the diamond can be
softened in the blood of a stag, which will work best if the stag has
been fed on wine and parsley.[168]
102. It is not only in the literature of the Middle Ages that we find
the thought and life of the people reflected, but in the art as well,
for painters, sculptors, and builders were at work in every country of
western Europe.
[Sidenote: Illuminations done by the monks.]
[Sidenote: In religious works.]
The paintings were altogether different from those of to-day, and
consisted chiefly of illustrations in the books, called _illuminations_.
Just as the books had all to be laboriously written out by hand, so each
picture was painted on the parchment page with tiny brushes and usually
in brilliant colors with a generous use of gold. And as the monks wrote
out the books, so it was, in general, the monks who painted the
pictures. The books that they adorned were chiefly those used in the
church services, especially the breviary, the psalter, and the book of
hours. Naturally these pictures usually dealt with religious subjects
and illustrated the lives of the saints or the events of biblical
history. Virtue was encouraged by representations of the joys of heaven
and also stimulated by spirited portrayals of the devil and his fiends,
and of the sufferings of the lost.
[Sidenote: In secular books.]
Secular works, too, were sometimes provided with pictures drawn from a
wide variety of subjects. We find in their pages such homely and
familiar figures as the farmer with his plow, the butcher at his block,
the glass blower at his furnace; then, again, we are transported to an
imaginary world, peopled with strange and uncouth beasts and adorned
with fantastic architecture.
[Sidenote: The artist governed by fixed rules.]
The mediæval love of symbols and of fixed rules for doing things is
strikingly illustrated in these illuminations. Each color had its
especial significance. There were certain established attitudes and ways
of depicting various characters and emotions which were adhered to by
generation after generation of artists and left comparatively little
opportunity for individual talent or lifelike presentation. On the other
hand, these little pictures--for of course they were always
small[169]--were often executed with exquisite care and skill and
sometimes in the smaller details with great truth to nature.
Beside the pictures of which we have been speaking, it was a common
practice to adorn the books with gay illuminated initials or page
borders, which were sometimes very beautiful in both design and color.
In these rather more freedom was allowed to the caprice of the
individual artist, and they were frequently enlivened with very charming
and lifelike flowers, birds, squirrels, and other small animals.
[Illustration: A Romanesque Church]
[Sidenote: Sculpture subservient to architecture.]
The art of sculpture was more widely and successfully cultivated during
the Middle Ages than painting. Mediæval sculpture did not, however,
concern itself chiefly with the representation of the human figure, but
with what we may call _decorative carving_; it was almost wholly
subservient to the dominant art of the Middle Ages, namely,
architecture.
[Sidenote: Architecture the dominant art of the Middle Ages.]
It is in the great cathedrals and other churches scattered throughout
England, France, Spain, Holland, Belgium, and Germany, that we find the
noblest and most lasting achievements of mediæval art, which all the
resources of modern skill have been unable to equal. Everybody belonged
to the Church, but the Church, too, belonged to each individual. The
building and beautifying of a new church was a matter of interest to the
whole community,--to men of every rank. It gratified at once their
religious sentiments, their local pride, and their artistic cravings.
All the arts and crafts ministered to the construction and adornment of
the new edifice, and, in addition to its religious significance, it took
the place of our modern art museum.
[Illustration: Durham Cathedral (Romanesque)]
[Sidenote: The Romanesque style.]
Up to the beginning of the thirteenth century the churches were built in
the Romanesque style.[170] They were, generally speaking, in the form of
a cross, with a main aisle, and two side aisles which were both narrower
and lower than the main aisle. The aisles were divided from each other
by massive round pillars which supported the round vaulting of the roof
and were connected by round arches. The round-arched windows were
usually small for the size of the building, so that the interior was not
very light. The whole effect was one of massive simplicity. There was,
however, especially in the later churches of this style, a profusion of
carved ornament, usually in geometric designs.
[Sidenote: Introduction of the Gothic style.]
[Sidenote: The pointed arch.]
[Sidenote: Flying buttresses.]
The _pointed_ form of arch was used occasionally in windows during the
eleventh and twelfth centuries. But about the beginning of the
thirteenth century[171] it began to be employed much more extensively,
and in an incredibly short time practically superseded the round arch
and became the characteristic feature of a new style, called _Gothic_.
The adoption of the pointed arch had very important results. It enabled
the builder to make arches of the same height but various widths, and of
varying height and the same width. A round arch of a given span can be
only half as high as it is wide, but the pointed arch may have a great
diversity of proportions. The development of the Gothic style was
greatly forwarded by the invention of the "flying buttress." By means of
this graceful outside prop it became possible to lighten the masonry of
the hitherto massive walls and pierce them with great windows which let
a flood of light into the hitherto dark churches.[172]
[Illustration: Round and Pointed Arches]
[Illustration: FAÇADE OF RHEIMS CATHEDRAL]
[Sidenote: Stained glass.]
The light from all these great windows might even have been too glaring
had it not been for the wonderful stained glass set in exquisite stone
tracery with which they were filled. The stained glass of the mediæval
cathedral, especially in France, where the glass workers brought their
art to the greatest perfection, was one of its chief glories. By far the
greater part of this old glass has of course been destroyed, but it is
still so highly prized that every bit of it is now carefully preserved,
for it has never since been equaled. A window set with odd bits of it
pieced together like crazy patch-work is more beautiful, in its rich and
jewel-like coloring, than the finest modern work.
[Illustration: Flying Buttresses of Notre Dame, Paris]
[Sidenote: Sculptured ornament.]
As the Gothic style developed and the builders grew all the time more
skillful and daring, the churches became marvels of lightness and
delicacy of detail and finish, while still retaining their dignity and
beauty of proportion. Sculptors enriched them with the most beautiful
creations of their art. Moldings and capitals, pulpits, altars, and
choir screens, the wooden seats for the clergy and choristers, are
sometimes literally covered with carving representing graceful leaf and
flower forms, familiar animals or grotesque monsters, biblical incidents
or homely scenes from everyday life. In the cathedral of Wells, in
England, one capital shows us among its vines and leaves a boy whose
face is screwed up with pain from the thorn he is extracting from his
foot; another depicts a whole story of sin found out, thieves stealing
grapes pursued by an angry farmer with a pitchfork. One characteristic
of the mediæval imagination is its fondness for the grotesque. It loved
queer beasts, half eagle, half lion, hideous batlike creatures, monsters
like nothing on land or sea. They lurk among the foliage on choir
screens, leer at you from wall or column, or squat upon the gutters high
on roof and steeple.
[Illustration: Window in the Cathedral of Sens, France]
[Sidenote: Gothic sculpture.]
A striking peculiarity of the Gothic structure is the great number of
statues of apostles, saints, and rulers which adorn the façades and
especially the main portal of the churches. These figures are cut from
the same kind of stone of which the building is made and appear to be
almost a part of it. While, compared with later sculpture, they seem
somewhat stiff and unlifelike, they harmonize wonderfully with the whole
building, and the best of them are full of charm and dignity.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF EXETER CATHEDRAL]
[Sidenote: Secular buildings.]
So far we have spoken only of the church architecture, and that was by
far the most important during the period with which we have been
dealing. Later, in the fourteenth century, many beautiful secular
buildings were constructed in the Gothic style. The most striking and
important of these were the guildhalls built by the rich merchant
guilds, and the townhalls of some of the important cities. But the
Gothic style has always been especially dedicated to, and seems
peculiarly fitted for, ecclesiastical architecture. Its lofty aisles and
open floor spaces, its soaring arches leading the eye toward heaven, and
its glowing windows suggesting the glories of paradise, may well have
fostered the ardent faith of the mediæval Christian.
[Illustration: Figures (gargoyles) on Notre Dame, Paris]
[Sidenote: The mediæval castle.]
We have already touched upon some of the characteristics of domestic
architecture in referring to the mediæval castle. This was rather a
stronghold than a home,--strength and inaccessibility were its main
requirements. The walls were many feet thick and the tiny windows, often
hardly more than slits in the massive walls, the stone floors, the great
bare halls warmed only by large fireplaces, suggest nothing of the
comfort of a modern household. At the same time they imply a simplicity
of taste and manners and a hardihood of body which we may well envy.
[Sidenote: The schools before the eleventh century.]
103. On turning from the language and books of the people and the art of
the period to the occupations of the learned class, who carried on their
studies and discussions in Latin, we naturally inquire where such
persons obtained their education. During the long centuries which
elapsed between the time when Justinian closed the government schools
and the advent of Frederick Barbarossa, there appears to have been
nothing in western Europe, outside of Italy and Spain, corresponding to
our universities and colleges. Some of the schools which the bishops and
abbots had established in accordance with Charlemagne's commands were,
it is true, maintained all through the dark and disorderly times which
followed his death. But the little that we know of the instruction
offered in them would indicate that it was very elementary, although
there were sometimes noted men at their head.
[Sidenote: Abelard, d. 1142.]
About the year 1100 an ardent young man named Abelard started out from
his home in Brittany to visit all the places where he might hope to
receive instruction in logic and philosophy, in which, like all his
learned contemporaries, he was especially interested. He reports that he
found teachers in several of the French towns, particularly in Paris,
who were attracting large numbers of students to listen to their
lectures upon logic, rhetoric, and theology. Abelard soon showed his
superiority to his teachers by defeating them several times in debate.
Before long he began lecturing on his own account, and such was his
success that thousands of students flocked to hear him.
[Sidenote: Abelard's _Yea and Nay_.]
He prepared a remarkable little text-book, called _Yea and Nay_,
containing seemingly contradictory opinions of the church fathers upon
particular questions. The student was left to reconcile the
contradictions, if he could, by careful reasoning; for Abelard held that
a constant questioning was the only path to real knowledge. His free way
of dealing with the authorities upon which men based their religious
beliefs seemed wicked to many of his contemporaries, especially to St.
Bernard, who made him a great deal of trouble. Nevertheless it soon
became the fashion to discuss the various doctrines of Christianity with
great freedom and to try to make a well-reasoned system of theology by
following the rules of Aristotle's logic. It was just after Abelard's
death (1142) that Peter Lombard published his _Sentences_, already
described.
Abelard did not found the University of Paris, as has sometimes been
supposed, but he did a great deal to make the discussions of theological
problems popular, and by his attractive method of teaching he greatly
increased the number of those who wished to learn. The sad story of his
life, which he wrote when he was worn out with the calamities that had
overtaken him, is the best and almost the only account which exists of
the remarkable interest in learning which explains the origin of the
University of Paris.[173]
[Sidenote: Origin of the University of Paris.]
Before the end of the twelfth century the teachers had become so
numerous in Paris that they formed a union, or guild, for the
advancement of their interests. This union of professors was called by
the usual name for corporations in the Middle Ages, _universitas_; hence
our word "university." The king and pope both favored the university and
granted the teachers and students many of the privileges of the clergy,
a class to which they were regarded as belonging, because learning had
for so many centuries been confined to the clergy.
[Sidenote: Study of the Roman and canon law in Bologna.]
[Sidenote: The _Decretum_ of Gratian.]
About the time that we find the beginnings of a university or guild of
professors at Paris, a great institution of learning was growing up at
Bologna. Here the chief attention was given, not to theology, as at
Paris, but to the study of the law, both Roman and canon. Very early in
the twelfth century a new interest in the Roman law became apparent in
Italy, where the old jurisprudence of Rome had never been completely
forgotten. Then, in 1142 or thereabouts, a monk, Gratian, published a
great work in which he aimed to reconcile all the conflicting
legislation of the councils and popes and to provide a convenient
text-book for the study of the church or canon law. Students then began
to stream to Bologna in greater numbers than ever before. In order to
protect themselves in a town where they were regarded as strangers, they
organized themselves into associations, which became so powerful that
they were able to force the professors to obey the rules which they laid
down.
[Sidenote: Other universities founded.]
The University of Oxford was founded in the time of Henry II, probably
by English students and masters who had become discontented at Paris for
some reason. The University of Cambridge, as well as numerous
universities in France, Italy, and Spain, appeared in the thirteenth
century. The German universities, which are still so famous, were
established somewhat later, most of them in the latter half of the
fourteenth and in the fifteenth centuries. The northern institutions
generally took the great mother university on the Seine as their model,
while those in southern Europe usually adopted the habits of Bologna.
[Sidenote: The academic degree.]
When, after some years of study, a student was examined by the
professors, he was, if successful, admitted to the corporation of
teachers and became a master himself. What we call a degree to-day was
originally, in the mediæval universities, nothing more than the
qualification to teach. But in the thirteenth century many began to
desire the honorable title of master or doctor (which is only the Latin
word for _teacher_) who did not care to become professors in our sense
of the word.[174]
[Sidenote: Simple methods of instruction.]
The students in the mediæval universities were of all ages, from
thirteen to forty, and even older. There were no university buildings,
and in Paris the lectures were given in the Latin quarter, in Straw
Street, so called from the straw strewn on the floors of the hired rooms
where the lecturer explained the text-book, with the students squatting
on the floor before him. There were no laboratories, for there was no
experimentation. All that was required was a copy of the
text-book,--Gratian's _Decretum_, the _Sentences_, a treatise of
Aristotle, or a medical book. This the lecturer explained sentence by
sentence, and the students listened and sometimes took notes.
[Sidenote: The universities could move freely from one town to another.]
The fact that the masters and students were not bound to any particular
spot by buildings and apparatus left them free to wander about. If they
believed themselves ill-treated in one town they moved to another,
greatly to the disgust of the tradespeople of the place which they
deserted, who of course profited by the presence of the university. The
universities of Oxford and of Leipsic, among others, were founded by
professors and students who had deserted their former home.
[Sidenote: Course of study.]
The course in arts, which corresponded to our college course and led to
the degree of Master of Arts, occupied six years at Paris. The studies
were logic, various sciences,--physics, astronomy, etc.,--studied in
Aristotle's treatises, and some philosophy and ethics. There was no
history, no Greek. Latin had to be learned in order to carry on the work
at all, but little attention was given to the Roman classics. The new
modern languages were considered entirely unworthy of the learned. It
must of course be remembered that none of the books which we consider
the great classics in English, French, Italian, or Spanish had as yet
been written.
[Sidenote: Aristotle's works become known in the West.]
104. The most striking peculiarity of the instruction in the mediæval
university was the supreme deference paid to Aristotle. Most of the
courses of lectures were devoted to the explanation of some one of his
numerous treatises,--his _Physics_, his _Metaphysics_, his various
treatises on logic, his _Ethics_, his minor works upon the soul, heaven
and earth, etc. Only his _Logic_ had been known to Abelard, as all his
other works had been forgotten. But early in the thirteenth century all
his comprehensive contributions to science reached the West, either from
Constantinople or through the Arabs who had brought them to Spain. The
Latin translations were bad and obscure, and the lecturer had enough to
do to give some meaning to them, to explain what the Arab philosophers
had said of them, and, finally, to reconcile them to the teachings of
Christianity.
[Sidenote: Veneration for Aristotle.]
Aristotle was, of course, a pagan. He was uncertain whether the soul
continued to exist after death; he had never heard of the Bible and knew
nothing of the salvation of man through Christ. One would have supposed
that he would have been promptly rejected with horror by those who never
questioned the doctrines of Christianity. But the teachers of the
thirteenth century were fascinated by his logic and astonished at his
learning. The great theologians of the time, Albertus Magnus (d. 1280)
and Thomas Aquinas (d. 1274), did not hesitate to prepare elaborate
commentaries upon all his works. He was called "The Philosopher"; and so
fully were scholars convinced that it had pleased God to permit
Aristotle to say the last word upon each and every branch of knowledge
that they humbly accepted him, along with the Bible, the church fathers,
and the canon and Roman law, as one of the unquestioned authorities
which together formed a complete guide for humanity in conduct and in
every branch of science.
[Sidenote: Scholasticism.]
The term _scholasticism_ is commonly given to the philosophy, theology,
and method of discussion of the mediæval professors. To those who later
outgrew the fondness for logic and the supreme respect for Aristotle,
scholasticism, with its neglect of Greek and Roman literature, came to
seem an arid and profitless plan of education. Yet if we turn over the
pages of the wonderful works of Thomas Aquinas, we see that the
scholastic philosopher might be a person of extraordinary insight and
erudition, ready to recognize all the objections to his position, and
able to express himself with great clearness and cogency.[175] The
training in logic, if it did not increase the sum of human knowledge,
accustomed the student to make careful distinctions and present his
material in an orderly way.
[Sidenote: Roger Bacon's attack on scholasticism.]
Even in the thirteenth century there were a few scholars who criticised
the habit of relying upon Aristotle for all knowledge. The most
distinguished fault-finder was Roger Bacon, an English Franciscan monk
(d. about 1290), who declared that even if Aristotle were very wise he
had only planted the tree of knowledge and that this had "not as yet put
forth all its branches nor produced all its fruits." "If we could
continue to live for endless centuries we mortals could never hope to
reach full and complete knowledge of all the things which are to be
known. No one knows enough of nature completely to describe the
peculiarities of a single fly and give the reason for its color and why
it has just so many feet, no more and no less." Bacon held that truth
could be reached a hundred thousand times better by experiments with
real things than by poring over the bad Latin translations of Aristotle.
"If I had my way," he declared, "I should burn all the books of
Aristotle, for the study of them can only lead to a loss of time,
produce error and increase ignorance."
So we find that even when scholasticism was most popular in the
universities, there were keen-sighted scientists who recommended the
modern scientific method of discovering truth. This does not consist in
discussing, according to the rules of logic, what a Greek philosopher
said hundreds of years ago, but in the patient observation of things
about us.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Review of the great changes between the break-up of the Roman
Empire in the west and the end of the thirteenth century.]
We have now traversed somewhat over one half of the long period of
fifteen hundred years which separates Europe of to-day from the
disintegrating Roman Empire of the fifth century. The eight hundred
years which lie between the century of Alaric, Attila, Leo the Great,
and Clovis, and that of Innocent III, St. Louis, and Edward I, witnessed
momentous changes, quite as important as any that have occurred since.
[Sidenote: The 'dark ages.']
It is true that it seemed at first as if the barbarous Goths, Franks,
Vandals, and Burgundians were bringing nothing but turmoil and
distraction. Even the strong hand of Charlemagne curbed the unruly
elements for only a moment; then the discord of his grandsons and the
incursions of Northmen, Hungarians, Slavs, and Saracens plunged western
Europe once more into the same anarchy and ignorance through which it
had passed in the seventh and eighth centuries.
Two hundred years and more elapsed after Charlemagne's death before we
can begin once more to note signs of progress. While we know little of
the eleventh century, and while even its most distinguished writers are
forgotten by all save the student of the period, it was undoubtedly a
time of preparation for the brilliant twelfth century--for Abelard and
St. Bernard, for the lawyers, poets, architects, and philosophers who
seem to come suddenly upon the scene.
[Sidenote: The twelfth and thirteenth centuries a period of rapid
advance.]
The Middle Ages may therefore be divided into two fairly distinct and
quite different periods. The centuries prior to the age of Gregory VII
and of William the Conqueror may, on account of their disorder and
ignorance, be properly called the "dark ages," although they beheld some
important stages in the transformation of Europe. The later Middle Ages,
on the contrary, were a time of rapid and unmistakable progress in
almost every line of human endeavor. Indeed by the end of the thirteenth
century a great part of those changes were well under way which serve to
make modern Europe so different from the condition of western Europe
under the Roman Empire. The most striking of these are the following.
[Sidenote: Appearance of national states.]
(1) A group of national states in which a distinct feeling of
nationality was developing had taken the place of the Roman Empire,
which made no allowance in its government for the differences between
Italians, Gauls, Germans, and Britons. The makeshift feudal government
which had grown up during the dark ages was yielding to the kingly
power (except in Germany and Italy) and there was no hope of ever
reuniting western Europe into a single empire.
[Sidenote: The national states begin to deprive the Church of its
governmental powers.]
(2) The Church had, in a way, taken the place of the Roman Empire by
holding the various peoples of western Europe together under the
headship of the pope and by assuming the powers of government during the
period when the feudal lords were too weak to secure order and justice.
Organized like an absolute monarchy, the Church was in a certain sense
far the most powerful state of the Middle Ages. But it attained the
zenith of its political influence under Innocent III, at the opening of
the thirteenth century; before its close the national states had so
grown in strength that it was clear that they would gradually reassume
the powers of government temporarily exercised by the Church and confine
the pope and clergy more and more to their strictly religious functions.
[Sidenote: Appearance of the commons or third estate.]
(3) A new social class had come into prominence alongside the clergy and
the knightly aristocracy. The emancipation of the serfs, the founding of
towns, and the growth of commerce made it possible for merchants and
successful artisans to rise to importance and become influential through
their wealth. From these beginnings the great intelligent and educated
public of modern times has sprung.
[Sidenote: Books begin to be written in the language of the people.]
(4) The various modern languages began to be used in writing books. For
five or six hundred years after the invasions of the Germans, Latin was
used by all writers, but in the eleventh and following centuries the
language of the people began to replace the ancient tongue. This enabled
the laymen who had not mastered the intricacies of the old Roman speech
to enjoy the stories and poems which were being composed in French,
Provençal, German, English, and Spanish, and, somewhat later, in
Italian.
[Sidenote: The clergy lose the monopoly of learning.]
Although the clergy still directed education, laymen were beginning to
write books as well as to read them, and gradually the churchmen ceased
to enjoy the monopoly of learning which they had possessed during the
early Middle Ages.
[Sidenote: Study of law, theology, and philosophy.]
[Sidenote: The universities.]
(5) Scholars began as early as the year 1100 to gather eagerly about
masters who lectured upon the Roman and canon law or upon logic,
philosophy, or theology. The works of Aristotle, the most learned of the
ancients, were sought out, and students followed him enthusiastically
into all fields of knowledge. The universities grew up which are now so
conspicuous a feature of our modern civilization.
[Sidenote: Beginnings of experimental science.]
(6) Scholars could not satisfy themselves permanently with the works of
Aristotle but began themselves to add to the fund of human knowledge. In
Roger Bacon and his sympathizers we find a group of scientific
investigators who were preparing the way for the unprecedented
achievements in natural science which are the glory of recent times.
[Sidenote: Artistic progress.]
(7) The developing appreciation of the beautiful is attested by the
skill and taste expressed in the magnificent churches of the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries, which were not a revival of any ancient style but
the original production of the architects and sculptors of the period.
General Reading.--The most convenient and readable account of
mediæval literature is perhaps that of SAINTSBURY, _The Flourishing
of Romance_ (Charles Scribner's Sons, $1.50). For chivalry, see
CORNISH, _Chivalry_ (The Macmillan Company, $1.75). For Gothic
architecture, see C.H. MOORE, _Development and Character of Gothic
Architecture_ (The Macmillan Company, $4.50). For the art in
general, LÜBKE, _Outlines of the History of Art_ (Dodd, Mead & Co.,
2 vols., $7.50). For the universities, RASHDALL, _History of the
Universities of the Middle Ages_ (Clarendon Press, 3 vols.,
$14.00).