brazen tablets in the Campus Martius in a few days. Domitian is under the
impression that they in their private meetings are plotting against his
life and throne. He has already ordered one of the most intimate and
trusted friends of Jesus to be arrested at Ephesus and to be brought in
chains to Rome," said Aurelian.
At this announcement Clement, who had been a quiet listener, started as if
with sudden pain; then as suddenly recovering his composure, he asked: "Is
it possible they could think of dragging the good old man across the sea in
this wintry weather? The journey would kill him."
"It is not only possible, but it is a fact," said Aurelian.
"You know this good old man, then?" asked Sisinnius.
{395}
"Know him! Yes, good right have I to know him. There is not a country from
the Pillars of Hercules or the Tin Islands of the North to the sunny steeps
of Asia and syrtes of Africa, in which I have not been and met with many
friends. Most of those I loved and labored with are gone"--he wiped away a
tear--"but of all that remain there is none more worthy, none more
venerated, none more dear to my heart and to the heart of one far greater
than I, than John of Ephesus. He is the last of a generation now almost
passed away--a generation of mighty workers--giants in their way--sent on
earth to lay the foundations of an edifice, the stories of which are to be
laid on age after age until they reach the sky. When he is gone, the last
direct link between that generation and the present will be taken away.
Already the work they commenced has fallen on frail and feeble shoulders."
Here the speaker, who had forgotten his company in the warmth of his
language, bent his head upon his breast, and again his lips moved silently.
All present looked on wonderingly: there was something in the old man's
appearance to excite their admiration.
Soon after, Clement rose to depart. Theodora and Sisinnius endeavored to
induce him to remain. He had spent nights from time to time in their house,
when the former had been sick; but now he was not to be moved.
"Young men!" he said as be rose, "we may or we may not meet again, No one
can count on another day; it is better to arrange tonight what the morrow
might not dawn upon." Theodora and Flavia bent their eyes inquiringly upon
him: addressing them, he said: "To you I address the words often said to me
by one I journeyed with for many years: 'Be always ready with lamps
trimmed. The shadow of this world is passing away. The night is at hand;
but remember there is a bright and lasting dawn beyond it.' Allow an old
man, whose pilgrimage in this world will not be long, to invoke his
blessing upon you all." He raised his outspread hands, and the ring with
the engraven cross shone out as he solemnly said, "May my blessing and the
blessing of the unknown God descend upon you. May he soon gather you all
into that glorious edifice he has sent his workmen to build on earth, and
there manifest to you the _admirable light_ and beauty of his
countenance!" While he spoke, Flavia and Theodora bent their heads, as if
some unseen influence was descending upon them; while Sisinnius and
Aurelian attributed the manner of Clement to an eccentricities not
previously noticed.
After Clement's departure, Aurelian approached Flavia to express his
anxiety about her health. She was agitated. He saw that her face did not
wear the sunshine welcome and the loving smile with which it heretofore
brightened at his approach. She seemed sad, yet not unhappy, but anxious to
avoid his presence and his look. Could the insinuations of Zoilus be true?
Formerly when she went from home, or when she expected to meet him, she
took trouble to heighten her great natural beauty of appearance and manner
by artificial assistance. Her toilet table and attendants were models for
the Roman ladies, who spent enormous sums on Asiatic cosmetics and Ionian
female slaves to aid them in dressing. All seemed now changed with Flavia.
Her dress was a mourning one of brown cloth, such as the wives of Roman
shopkeepers might wear, drawn modestly about her from chin to feet, without
a single ornament. Her hair was bound in no Persian head-dress, as was then
the fashion with high-born dames; but was folded unpretendingly about her
head, so as to conceal as much as possible the fair proportions of her full
and polished forehead. Her dark eyes, usually so full of hearty affection,
were not upturned as of old to his. He saw something was out of joint.
Could it be the effect of sickness? If so, he would pour out all his
fortune, melt down the silver and golden images of his ancestors, at
Clement's feet, and beseech him to cure her. Or could it be that she had
transferred her affections from himself to the young officer lately
returned from Judea? Such were the thoughts flitting through the mind of
Aurelian as he found himself alone with Flavia. Sisinnius had beckoned
Theodora away.
{396}
"Flavia!" he at length said, "in what have I offended? You appear
distressed at my approach. Who can have a better right to that affection
you always professed for me than I, who shall call you by a new endearing
title on the next Kalends?"
"The next Kalends! You cannot be in earnest, Aurelian!" she said.
"Your guardian and adopted father, the emperor, has chosen that day for the
fulfilment of the promise you have made me. It is a day to be for ever
marked with Cretan chalk in my memory," he replied.
"But it cannot be! It is impossible!"
"Why not? How?" he asked.
"O Aurelian! you are too noble, too generous, you have been always too kind
to me to force me to fulfil a promise which can never bring me aught but
misery!"
"Misery? Why, have you not always professed the greatest confidence and
love of me? Have I done anything to lose them? You admit I have not. How,
then, can the fulfilment of your engagement make you miserable?"
"I shall never," she answered, "forget your kindness day after day to me,
and I shall always love you as my brother. But any other relationship there
cannot be!"
"I see it all plainly," he said. "You too have been infected by this new
plague: you have withdrawn your affections to bestow them on another?"
"And suppose I have," said Flavia, grasping at another mode of calming his
excitement. "You are too high in rank, too proud to accept the hand of one
who cannot bestow her heart with it?"
"By Hercules! I know who this Christian enchanter is, and by the honor of a
Roman knight--"
"Then, if you know him well, you cannot blame me for bestowing my
affections on him. He is so beautiful, so noble, so glorious beyond the
sons of men. His teeth are whiter than milk, and the words of his mouth are
like the dripping of the honey-comb. He is encompassed with perpetual
youth, and crowned with a comeliness which shall never fade. All these
enduring qualities he promises to confer on me if I will love and serve
him!"
"Love him then, infatuated girl! But serve him you never shall, if the
sword and fortune of Aurelian can prevent it!"
"Aurelian, my brother! I will pray and ask him that you also may know him;
for, if you did, you could not help loving and serving him."
"Do you wish to mock my misery," he bitterly asked, "now that you have
blighted all on which my hopes of happiness rested? But, Flavia! remember I
am not to be put off, if the power of Domitian can crush this Christian
viper! Remember your uncle's fate!"
And turning be left the room.
TO BE CONTINUED.
------
{397}
From The Dublin University Magazine.
The Libraries Of The Middle Ages And Their Contents.
Father Hardouin On The Classics.
The fourteenth century was doubtlessly an era of great literary activity
with regard to transcribing and filling libraries with copies of the Latin
Scriptures, of theological works in general, and of the classics. The
learned and eccentric Jesuit, Father John Hardouin, fixed on it for the
composition of all the supposed classic treasures of antiquity which we
possess, except the works of Cicero, Pliny's Natural History, the Satires
and Epistles of Horace, the Georgics and nine Eclogues of Virgil, the
comedies of Plautus, the poems of Homer, and the history of Herodotus. All
the rest were the brain-produce of the cloistered scholars of the
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, especially the latter, as being
distinguished by the rage for collecting manuscripts and forming libraries.
Not only were these supposed fruits of the classic pagan tree the growth of
the Christian intellect of that late time, but the works of St. Augustin
and his disciples were composed for them nine hundred years after their
funerals.[Footnote 120]
[Footnote 120: John Hardouin, the son of a bookseller of Quimper, was
born in 1646. He entered at an early age into the Society of Jesus. He
soon distinguished himself by acute perception and a great memory, but
still more by cherishing such paradoxes as the above. The AEneid,
according to him, was the work of a Benedictine of the thirteenth
century, and was an allegorical description of St. Peter's journey to
Rome; and Horace's _Lalage_ was a type of the Christian religion.
The antique metals were all modern inventions, each letter representing
a word. "You are quite right, father," said an antiquary to him one
day. "These letters found on so many metals, Con. Os., and supposed to
stand for 'Constantinopli Obsignatum,' (stamped [sealed] at
Constantinople,) are evidently intended to read, 'Cusi Omnes Nummi
Officina Benedictina'--all moneys struck in the Benedictine Mint." He
was a most firm believer in all the dogmas of revealed religion, but a
thorough Pyrrhonist in human traditions. He classed Jansenism,
Thomassin, Malebranche, Quesnel, Arnauld, Nicole, Pascal, Descartes, Le
Grand, and Regis among the atheists. They were Cartesians, merely
another name for unbelievers. His learning was most extensive and his
works numerous. He died in Paris in 1729 at the age of 88.]
There was in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries a literary warfare
between the Classicists and Romancists as real as that which sprung up in
Paris before the three days of July, but much less noisy. We find among the
145 volumes bequeathed to the library of the church of Langres in 1365, by
Jean de Saffres, about two dozen of romances whose titles deserve to be
remembered. They were Renart, (Reynard the Fox,) Girart de Roussillon,
Garin la Loherain, Aimeri de Narbonne, Raoul de Cambrai, Bueves de
Barbastre,[Footnote 121] Jean dit le Lanson, Parise la Duchesse, Merlin,
Courberau d'Oliferne, Gibert dit Desrée, les Sept Sages, les Machabées,
Troie la Grant, (Troy the Great,) Florimont, la Rose, Beaudoux, (Sweet
Beauty or Beautifully Sweet.) Clyges, Perceval le Gallois, Basin et
Gombaud, Amadas, (Amadis, qu.,) Galaad, Lancelot, Tristan, (Sir Tristrem.)
[Footnote 121: A cherished manual of our youth was Wild Roses or
Cottage Tales, published by Anne Lemoine in some court whose name has
escaped our memory. One of the stories was "Barbastal, or the Magician
of the Forest of Bloody Ash!" Was _Bueves de Barbastre_ the
original of that terrible and interesting narrative?]
The Care Bestowed On The Libraries.
We may be certain that St. Benedict had not such books as these in his mind
when he composed the following prayer of blessing on the works to be copied
by his monks, a prayer which has been preserved in the Abbey of
Fleuri-sur-Loire:
"O Lord, let the virtue of thy Holy Spirit descend on these books; let it
purify them, bless them, sanctify them. Sweetly enlighten the hearts of
those who read them, and impart their true sense to them. Grant us also
to be faithful to the precepts emanating from thy light, in accomplishing
them by good works, according to thy will"
{398}
The same respect for good books is found in an the abbeys of the
Benedictines. The very high value the religious communities set on rare
works connected with their order, subjected the monks of the abbey of St.
Denis to a cruel imposition in 1389. An imposter, such as some who have
practised mighty deceptions in our times, a supple Greek named Paul Tagari,
passing himself off for the patriarch of Constantinople, obtained thirty
thousand crowns of gold from the king of Cyprus, on imparting the royal
unction to his majesty, and a magnificent reception from the pope at
Avignon, as he held out strong assurances of the return of the Greek schism
to the faith. He announced to the simple monks of St. Denis the existence
of some manuscripts from the hand of the very patron of their order, Saint
Dionysius the Areopagite, who had heard the words of life from the lips of
St. Paul himself, when he spoke to the news loving people of Athens on the
hill of Mars. Two brothers set out on foot to Marseilles, and, deluded by
the knave's representations, journeyed on from that to Rome. The Greek had
got their money, but they got nothing by their long journey but the labor
and expenses of performing it, and the chagrin of the disappointment.
The monks of Cluni were particular in the illustrating and the binding of
their volumes. As a general rule the outsides of the volumes in the abbey
libraries were not attractive. The Bernardine houses of Citeaux and
Clairvaux affected the plainest style. We may here give an instance of the
care taken of the precious volumes, by quoting the library rules of the
canons regular: "The _armarius_ (literally, guardian of shelves or
presses) should apply labels to the backs, catalogue the volumes, go over
them twice or thrice in the year, see that they were not crowded, and that
every volume was in its place." In case of a loan he was to record the
borrower's address, the title of the volume, and the deposit received,
which in all cases should be the registered value of the book. When the
book was highly prized, he was not to give it out without the express
sanction of the prior or abbot. He had charge of the parchment, the ink,
the pens, the bodkins, and the penknives, and he kept an eye on the intern
and extern copyists. The writers of funeral billets and of business letters
were also under his control. He provided his indoor copiers with a quiet
apartment where no one had right of ingress but the abbot, the prior, or
the sub-prior. He examined the purity of the texts, the binding, the
condition of the volumes. He kept the volumes in daily use, such as the
Bibles, the accounts of the passion, the lives of the saints, and the
homilies in a place accessible to all, regulated the readings during meal
times, and corrected faults committed in reading or chanting, and arranged
processions. Our Benedictine librarian had no sinecure.
The Rich Libraries Of the Begging Brothers.
The Dominicans were no less careful of their literary treasures. In a
general chapter of the order, held at Saragossa in 1309, it was forbidden
to every prior, sub-prior, or officer commissioned by them, to bestow,
sell, lend, or pledge any book of which there was but one copy in the
respective houses. Whoever was guilty of infraction was to be deprived of
his faculties (official to wit) for three years. The theological works
should not be sold out of the order. Whoever disobeyed should, till the
restitution of the property, fast on bread and water one day in every week.
A student was privileged, in cases of urgent necessity, to sell a book, the
Bible and the great work of St. Thomas of Aquino excepted.
The English Richard de Bury before mentioned found the Dominicans the most
keen-scented and zealous retrievers of rare treasures in bibliography.
{399}
"When," said he, "they traverse seas and deserts, when they search the
recesses of convents, they never forget me. What beast of chase can
escape these keen hunters? What fish so small can wriggle out of their
nets?"
He goes on, mentioning how they despatch to him sermons lately preached in
Rome, discourses delivered at a Paris university, and adds:
"We are now about visiting their convents and their books. There in a
profound poverty we shall discover untold of treasures. We shall find in
their baskets and their wallets, along with such crumbs as men fling to
the dogs, the unleavened bread of proposition, the bread of angels, the
granaries of Joseph filled with wheat, all the riches of Egypt, all the
sumptuous presents which the queen of Sheba offered to Solomon. Yes!
having come into the vineyard at the eleventh hour, the friars-preachers
have secured the richest vintage." (Victor le Clerc.)
These Begging Brothers, being a rich and numerous branch, secured the most
valuable works everywhere. The Archbishop of Armagh having sent four
theological students to complete their course at Oxford, they were obliged
to return as they went, the Mendicant friars having bought up all the
books: so that the poor Irishmen could neither borrow nor buy the Bible nor
any theological work.
Divers presents were made from time to time to these lovers of books. In
the end of a MS. of the Dominicans at Clermont, containing the pastoral of
St. Gregory, and some tracts of St. Jerome and St. Isadore of Seville, is
found the following note:
"The Seigneur Peter d'Andre, citizen of Clermont, licentiate in both
laws, (LL.D.,) at first bishop of Noyon, then of Clermont, and finally of
Cambrai, has given us this book and many others. Wherefore we bind
ourselves to Celebrate his anniversary [Footnote 122] in perpetuity. You
who read in this book, pray to God for him, for he has done us great
kindnesses, and we owe much to him, as well as to his family. Let him who
shall wickedly efface these words be Anathema! So be it! Dated on St.
George's day, the 23d of the month of April, 1377."
[Footnote 122: That is, celebrate divine offices for the repose of
soul.]
The Franciscans possessed poor libraries compared with those of the
Dominicans. Indeed the accumulation of the profane writers seemed
inconsistent with the spirit of the order. The following story was put in
currency either to advance the views of the body or throw ridicule on their
fear or neglect of classic literature. We incline to the first theory, and
will give the outline of the little drama with as little irreverence as we
can.
There were two Friars Minors in a convent at Marseilles, one the guardian
of the library, the other the reader, and both attentive students of the
rare old pagan classics. On the same night the summons came to both, and a
monk of their order, but living in a distant province, had a vision at the
moment of their departure which terrified him not a little. He saw them
passing to judgment, preceded by two mules heavily laden with books, and it
appeared to him that their patron, St. Francis, was commissioned to examine
into their lives, and pass sentence. The awe-struck monk then heard the
following questions and answers: "What use made you of these books?" "We
read them." "Did you act as they recommended?" "By no means." "Then as it
was through a principle of vanity and in contempt of your holy law of
poverty you amassed so many volumes, and left neglected that which God
ordained, you and your books shall!" ...... The poor monk awoke terrified
beyond expression, and was confirmed in his utter neglect of Homer, Virgil,
and Horace, and in his predilection for the study of the Bible and the
early fathers.
The Sorbonne.
If the universities had heard the above narrative, it did not make much
impression on them. They multiplied books--the university of Paris
particularly; but this last was unprovided with a suitable lodgment for
them as well as for itself, and was obliged to borrow accommodation for its
assemblies from the establishment of the Mathurins, and for its sermons on
great occasions, the pulpit of the Dominicans, corner of the Rue Saint
Jacques.
{400}
It left to posterity only one library of importance, that of the
Sorbonne. [Footnote 123]
[Footnote 123: This much spoken of institution was founded by Robert, a
canon of Cambrai, born in the village of Sarbon, in the Ardennes, in
1201. He was much endeared to Louis IX, (St. Louis) by his learning and
piety, and became his chaplain. He conceived the project of an
institution in which clergymen supported by government might
gratuitously instruct poor students in theology, and thus give great
assistance to the university. St. Louis warmly approving his design,
the institution was opened in 1252 with sixteen poor scholars selected
from England, Gaul, Normandy, and Picardy, the four nations so called.
Four German scholars were afterward affiliated. Each candidate for
admission was obliged to maintain these propositions against all
opponents one day from five A.M. to seven P.M. The institution
continued to maintain its reputation for theological science down to
the first revolution. It was reestablished, and still exists.]
Among the rare old collections of manuscripts, that of the Sorbonne
deserves honorable mention. In 1290 it included 1017 volumes. About that
time a heroic socius simply calling himself "John," seeing so many volumes
never taken off the shelves nor opened, owing to the want of a catalogue,
set to the work, and made out one to the best of his abilities, assorting
the books into a few general classes. He arranged the works in each class
by the authors' names, and after the title he copied a few words of the
commencement--a very useful proceeding. Generally the books in the convents
were only lent to the brothers or other inmates of the house, or to some
one of the order; but in the Sorbonne library the volumes were freely lent
to all applicants on depositing somewhat more than the value of the work in
gold, silver, or some more valuable book, the rule being _Extraneo sub
juramento_-to an extern--under oath, (to return the work.)
We find the lending system in full vigor with most of the libraries either
gratis or at a very trifling charge. Besides the catalogues, they possessed
at the Sorbonne a registry for the lending department. In this registry
were not only marked the opening words of the first page, but also those of
the third, sometimes those of the last leaf but one, in order that, if the
borrower was rogue enough to return a volume different from the one
borrowed, he might be easily detected. It is a matter worth attention, the
low prices set on books in common use by ordinary folk or by students.
Tullius de Officiis, de Senectute et de Amicitia was valued at decem
sols--say five pence sterling. Allowing even for the high value of money at
the time in relation to that of our day, the price seems out of all
proportion with the materials of the book and the time bestowed on the
writing. Baron Tauchnitz at this moment would make the poorest student pay
about half a florin for it, notwithstanding the aid of movable type and
steam presses.
Some of the works in this register were distinguished by the word
_catenatus_, (chained to its place,) others by _deficit_. Among
books in this category were most of the Libri in Gallico. These were called
romances, whatever the subject. Thus we find Romancium de Rosa, Romancium
quod incipit Miserere mei, (one of the Seven Penitential Psalms;) Romancium
de decem praeceptis, sine rigmo, et dicitur Gallice, (romance of the Ten
Commandments unrhymed and issued in the French language;) Le libre roiaus
(roiaulx, royal) de Vices et Virtus (sic): Incipit Ce sont li X
commandemens.
From the year 1321 they began to bestow or sell numbers of the less
important works, for the library had outgrown the calculated proportions,
and such things as the students' _cahiers_ (copy books) and old
sermons only took up valuable space.
The learned Bishop of Durham bequeathed his valuable library to the
university of Oxford in 1344; and actuated by the same good spirit, left
directions that the books should be lent even as the works in the Sorbonne
on receiving sufficient security.
{401}
Unprincipled Book Borrowers.
Many were the deplorable losses of valuable books incurred by lending but
yet the practice was productive of too many and too great benefits to be
discontinued. No one in our days, except a true bibliomaniac or the keeper
of a circulating library, can enter into the sore feelings of abbot or
rector of a university when the invaluable MS. was either lost or returned
damaged. Such a heart-scald was inflicted on Peter called Monoculus,
(one-eyed,) abbot of Clairvaux, when a book lent to a neighboring abbot was
returned as wet as if it had been placed under a water-pipe. Observe the
rascality of the messenger! He came by night, made a great bustle, turned
off the attention of the unsuspicious librarian, got another volume
instead, and departed at a very early hour to escape a perquisition. This
was in 1187. In the next century the Abbot Philip, with feelings soured by
such instances of want of principle, would not lend the tracts of St.
Augustin, humbly and earnestly demanded. No; there they were--too large to
be carried away. "His dear brother was welcome to send an accredited writer
to make a copy."
Proprietors of valuable books became so chary from sad experience, that
unless the messenger who came to borrow was provided with a good steed, he
would not be entrusted with the treasure. This supposes some distance to
separate lender from borrower.
Saint Louis and Charles the Wise were liberal in bestowing and lending.
Borrowers, as has been their custom since the days of Job, were found
frequently false in their vows, and after the reign of poor Charles VI.,
_deficit_ was found in multiplied instances in the royal register
after the names of works in request. So strong was the desire among
lettered people to be the owners of valuable works that a certain learned
monk was not considered above the temptation of what some lawyers have
termed _conveyancing_. In a life of St. Bernard it is related that one
day at Clairvaux he thus addressed three novices: "One of you will make his
escape this night: let the others watch and not allow him to take away
anything." Two fell asleep, the spirit of evil sitting very heavy on their
eyelids. The third, who staid awake, saw about daybreak two giants enter,
and place under the nostrils of one of the sleepers a roast fowl encircled
by a serpent. Roused by the deluding smell, he got up, approached the
library, forced open the door, and was about making off with some of the
literary treasures. Being stopped by his fellow-students, he attempted to
scale the wall, but being prevented and still remaining impenitent, he lost
his reason, and continued in that state till be died.
In some of the old abbeys the place of the library is still to be found
sunk in the thickness of the wall, as well as the desks of wood or stone
before it, fixed there for the behoof of the copyists.
Fires aided the class of knavish borrowers in destroying the labors of the
learned and their copiers. Twenty-two thousand volumes were reported as
burned at Saint Vicent at Laon. The entire books of Livy were lost, if some
people are to be trusted, at the Benedictine abbey of Malmesbury. A savant
said he saw the Treatises on the Republic, by Cicero, in a certain convent
in 1517, and when he inquired some time after for it, the reply was, that
they had been _furto praerepti_, [Footnote 124] (thievishly
abstracted.)
[Footnote 124: Cardinal de Mai was enabled to rescue a portion of the
work. A copy of his edition was published in London in 1828, with a
fac-simile of a page of the palimpsest exhibiting the ancient and
modern letters.]
Besides strong locks and vigorous anathemas, chains were used to secure
some of the most valued volumes from pilfering fingers. Some suspected
books were even fastened to their shelves with stout nails, as tradition
relates to have happened to Roger Bacon's works at the hands of his
unscientific brethren, Lord Litton's Friar Bungay being probably the most
active on the occasion. Under the treatment of the nails the book could not
be read. A relic of the old custom has remained till now in some churches
of Florence, where missals and rituals may be read under wire gratings, and
even the leaves turned over.
{402}
Unworthy Curators.
As a rule libraries in the possession of kings and lords were not as
carefully watched as those in convents. A remarkable exception to
conventual care is recorded by Boccaccio when relating a visit to the
Benedictines of Mount Cassino. He found the door of the library left open,
and the books covered by a thick coat of dust, grass growing on the
windows, the volumes imperfect, the margins clipped, and everything
denoting the greatest negligence. On inquiring the cause of the injury to
the volumes, he learned that they erased the writing from the vellum to
write psalters (the Seven Penitential Psalms) for young people on them, and
clipped off the margins to receive short prayers. About the same time the
French king's library was not better secured. It was near the falconry, and
the new librarian Giles Malet, apprehensive that the "birds and other
beasts" would take the liberty of coming in and injuring the volumes, the
wire-worker got eighteen golden francs for applying wire screens to the
windows.
At the same convent of Mount Cassino, Mabillon saw the remains of a
manuscript of the tenth century, converted to covers. Montfaucon was
informed by the archbishop of Rosano that one of his predecessors being
rather annoyed by a succession of curious scholars to inspect some Greek
documents in his possession, hid them in the earth to get rid of the
annoyance. [Footnote 125]
[Footnote 125: The first of these two eminent scholars was born in the
diocese of Rheims in 1632, and became a Benedictine monk at St. Maur,
same diocese, at the age of 21. Being employed at Saint Denys to show
the curiosities of the place, he fortunately broke a glass which had
once belonged to Virgil! He received his _congé_ in consequence.
His next employment was on the lives of the Saints of the Benedictine
order, the Spicilegium, and when his brethren of St. Maur were editing
the works of the fathers he was entrusted with those of St. Bernard.
Being sent by Colbert into Germany to collect for the library archives
of France, he made many valuable acquisitions. The celebrated abbot of
La Trappe, De Rancé, having contended that many in a religious state
should not distract their attention with literature, Mabillon was
appointed to answer him, a duty which he performed with great effect,
but in a very mild manner. Le Tellier presented him to Louis XIV., by
whom he was graciously received. The learned Du Cange being consulted
by a stranger on some abstruse points, sent him to Dom Mabillon. "You
have applied to an ignorant person," said D. M. "Go to my master in
erudition, M. de Cange." "Why!" said the other, "it was he who directed
me to you." This modest and devout and learned man died in Paris in
1707 at the age of seventy-five. Among his chief works is that history
of the Benedictine order, and a work on diplomacy.]
Notwithstanding the care shown in influential quarters by heads of
religious houses, by kings, by universities, and even the threats of
excommunication issued against all pilferers or destroyers of good books,
many instances of cruel neglect such as those quoted occurred. The curators
of the Sainte Chapelle of Bourges felt so little interest in their literary
property that the library was converted into a fowl-house, and valuable
works were discovered there by sorrowful visitors, lying open on the desks,
it being hard to say whether they were worse treated by the feathered or
the unfeathered two-legged animals. These negligences notwithstanding, the
work of conserving and reproducing standard works in the classics, and
others in the native tongue, went on vigorously, the brave laborers little
aware of the mighty aid near at hand for lightening and abridging the labor
of hands and pens, and even unable to conceive the possibility of the
results of a few mechanical appliances to the rapid and almost infinite
multiplication of literary works, a single copy of which required such
close application, and such a length of time for its production.
If Saint Louis, when painfully increasing his library in the Sainte
Chapelle, volume by volume, and at slow intervals, had been vouchsafed in
one of his nightly visions the knowledge of the art and mystery of
printing, and, while his whole being was filled with joy and admiration,
suddenly awoke, and found all the steps of the process completely vanished
from his memory, what anguish would have seized on him for a time, and with
what disgust he would continue to witness the snail-like progress of a
book, word by word, and line by line, till the writer reached the colophon.
{403}
However, the possibility of what we now look on as a commonplace privilege
and convenience never disturbed the equanimity of the earnest laborers of
the fourteenth century, and they performed their daily tasks with patient
content, and frequently with enjoyment.
Lay Libraries and Popular Fictions.
The Bibliotheque Royal dates its origin from a collection in the Sainte
Chapelle of Saint Louis's palace, made by the good king for his own special
reading, as well as for that of his friends of good taste. Something was
done by his successors, but the real history of the royal library begins
with Charles V., surnamed the "Wise."
Old house-keeping accounts preserved till the great fire on 27th October,
1737, and then partially destroyed, have put it into the power of
archaeologists to point out that particular tower of the Louvre called the
Library Tower. There were two floors wainscotted with _boìs
d'Irlande_--shillela oak, as we may suppose--vaulted with cypress wood,
and all ornamented with bas-reliefs. The painted windows were furnished
with brass wire and iron bars. There were _lutrines_, (choristers'
desks,)' _pupitres tournants_, (desks revolving on pivots,) and some
of these were brought from the palace. Thirty small chandeliers and a
silver lamp were lighted when evening came, and thus the students were
enabled to study at night.
From some of the household accounts of Charles V. still in preservation, we
learn that this Irish oak, to the amount of four hundred and eighty pieces,
was presented in 1364 to the Wise King, to be used in the building of his
castle, the donor being the seneschal of Hainault. The chief part of the
volumes in the library of the Louvre were in the French tongue.
Besides the pieces of native literature already mentioned, we may here
quote the following as the established favorites:
Romances About Charlemagne And His Peers:
Berte, Roland et Olivier, Roncevaux, Merlin, Gaidon, le Voyage à
Jerusalem, Ferabras, Garin de Monglane, Dame Aye, Amis et Amile,
Jordain de Blaives, Ogier le Danois, (Holger the Dane,) Beuve
d'Aigremont, les Quartre Fils d'Aymon, Maugis, Aubri le Bourgoing, Gui
de Nanteuil, Beuve de Hanstone, Basin, Carlon, Anseis de Carthage,
Guillaume au Court Nez.
Tales Of The Round Table:
La Mort d'Artus, le Saint Graal, Gauvain, l'Atre Perilleux, (Castle
Perilous,) Glorion de Bretagne, Giron le Courtois (Sir Gawain, qu.)
Meliadus, and those already mentioned.
Poems And Romances:
Cleomedes, Blancandin, Gerart de Nevers, le Comte de Poitiers, Flore et
Blanche-fleur, Gautier d'Aupais, Gui de Warwick, Meraugia, la Manckine,
Robert le Diable.
Poems On Classic Subjects:
Troie, Enéas, Narcissus, la Prise de Thèbes, (the Taking of Thebes,) le
Siège d'Athènes, Ypomedon, Thesalus, Alexandre, Jules César, Vespasien.
Poems On Religious Traditions:
les Machabées, la Passion, les Trois Maries, Barlaam et Josaphat, Lives
of the Saints and Miracles.
Poems On Modern Subjects:
Godefroi de Bouillon, le Voeu du Paon, (the Vow of the Peacock,) Songs,
Fabliaux, collections of stories, such as the Dolopathos, allegorical
compositions, as la Rose, le Renart, la Poire, l'Escoufle, instructive
compositions like l'Image du Monde, le Livre de Charité, les
Bestiaires, les Lapidaires, books of hunting, etc.
Many of these volumes were richly bound, and liberally paid for. The
Duchess of Brabant, in 1369, paid to Maitre Jean six sheep for binding a
French book.
{404}
In 1376, Godfrey Bloc (suitable name!) charged his patron, the Duke of
Brabant, seven sheep and a half for binding Meliadus, and in 1383, twelve
sheep for binding the Saint Graal, called in the bill by its other title,
Joseph of Arimathea.
In the age of which we are treating Greek was little studied or known. The
scholars were ignorant of the Greek historians, of the dramatic poets, even
of Homer, of whom the poet Petrarch said, when his eyes first rested on a
copy, "Your Homer is dumb to me, or rather I understand him not."
Boccaccio, when young, attempted to translate him. Some Dominicans studied
the language, but it was for the sake of their sermons, not to be able to
peruse Homer, or even St. Chrysostom or St. Basil. The Greeks were
schismatics, and everything coming from them was liable to a moral
quarantine. The works of Aristotle and some others were accessible in Latin
translations.
It is time to glance at the other subjects which, along with the classics
and the romances in the native tongue, occupied the minds of the scholars
of the fourteenth century, and filled the books they produced with such
care and patience.
The Educational Cursus of the Fourteenth Century.
All the humanities of the day were included in the Trivium and the
Quadrivium, the first comprising grammar, rhetoric, and dialectics, and the
second, arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy. This was apparently a
strait circle for human intelligence to move in at freedom, but the prime
masters in the intellectual craft endeavored to enlarge the various
compartments to their widest extent. Thus into rhetoric crept poetry,
epistolary correspondence, didactics, and translation. With dialectics came
in philosophy entire. "Aristotle and his numerous interpreters," among whom
were many saints, authorized free discussions on the highest abstractions
of thought, on the natural sciences, on physiology and the curative art, on
politics, and even on common law. Thus, without going out of the Trivium,
see what a vast amount of facts were lugged in, analyzed, and discussed. In
dialectics no subject was let drop till it was turned in every point of
view, analyzed, and established in true or fancied relation to every other
thing.
Grammar.
They were not at all scant--these earnest seekers--in grammatic manuals.
They had their "Large Donatus," their "Small Donatus," and the commentary
on Donatus by Remy of Anxerre; Priscian, entire and in abridgments; Bede's
metres, and several modern works. Those not content with the mere
enunciation of the old rules, would moralize them something in this style:
"'What is a prenomen?' [Footnote 126] _Man_ is thy nomen,
_sinner_ is thy prenomen. So when you pray to God, make use only of
thy prenomen, and say, 'O Heavenly Father, I invoke not thy name as man,
but I implore thy pardon as sinner.'"
[Footnote 126: In Caius Julius Caesar, _Caius_ is the prenomen,
corresponding to our Christian name, _Julius_ is the nomen or
family name, _Caesar_ the adnomen, derived from some particular
event or circumstance.]
Wonderful were the applications of even such simple things as the four
(five) declensions. The first declension was from the obedience of God to
the suggestion of the devil. Eve made this declension. The second is from
the obedience of God to the obedience to the woman. This declension was
made by Adam. The third declension is from Paradise to this world; the
fourth from this world to hell.
Analogies of grammar and piety were often of a slight and whimsical tissue.
Some of them might be classed with modern conundrums, thus. "Why is the
preposition a theme of pleasure to the elect? Because _Illi praeponuntur
damnandis._" "Why does an interjection resemble the sufferings of the
damned? Because it is the expression of the soul by an unmeaning sound."
{405}
Such was the tendency of the time for extracting moral conclusions, that
Ovid's Metamorphoses served as an excellent text-book for the learned
Dominican Thomas Walleis, for the enunciation of a series of moral axioms
which the Epicurean poet of Augustus's court never dreamed of for a moment.
Philippe de Vitri, friend to Petrarch, made a Latin prose version of the
book, and educed Christian dogmas from the least austere of the tales.
The attention paid by our fourteenth century scholars to their Latin
grammar, and their aptitude to convert it to as many uses as the Knave in
the folk story did his pack of cards, ceases to excite much wonder when it
is recollected that a practical grammar of the native language at the time
was a complete desideratum. What a falling was that from the state of
things when the Canterbury pilgrims may be supposed to have collected at
the Tabard Inn in Southwark, and when the trouvères told and sung their
lays. Every Chaucerian will recall at once the sweet nun, Madame
Englentyne:
"That of hire smylyng was ful simple and coy;
Hire grettest ooth was but by Seint Loy;
Entuned (the service) in hire nose ful semyly.
And Frensch she spak ful faire and fetyaly.
After the scole of Strattford atte Bowe.
For Frensch of Paris was to hire unknowe."
French must consequently have been taught with more or less attention to
grammar rules long before the period with which this paper is occupied, and
it is a case of comfort to archaeologists that a French grammar exists
written by Gautier de Biblesworth in the thirteenth century, for the
instruction of English natives in that language, and principally for Lady
Dionysia de Monchensi, of the county of Kent, wife to Count Hugh de Vere.
The author in his preface modestly announced it as "Le Tretys Ke (qui)
Mounsire Gauter de Bibelesworth fist (fit) a ma Dame Dionysie de Mounchenay
pur aprise de Language." [Footnote 127] Master Biblesworth, if that was his
name, mixed his grammatical rules with educational precepts, beginning very
properly at the birth of his pupil, and naming the different parts of the
body, terms of agriculture, domestic economy, hunting, fishing, and
gardening, and all conveyed in octosyllabic verse, with the slightest
possible pretension to poetry.
[Footnote 127: "The treatise which Monsieur Walter de Blblesworth has
composed for My Lady, Dionysie de Mounchenay, to learn the language,"
etc.]
That people with some pretensions to education took pride in speaking the
"Frensch of Paris" with propriety long before the fourteenth century, is
evinced by the boast of the Picard trouvère, Guernes, who recited his poem
at the tomb of Saint Thomas of Canterbury in 1173:
"Mes languages est buens car en France ful nez." [Footnote 128]
[Footnote 128: "My language is good, for in France was I born." The
reader will remark the Latin instead of the modern French form for the
verb _was_.]
Quenes de Bethunes, a contemporary and authoress of several fine songs,
excused herself for using provincial words, for "she was of Artois, not of
Pontoise." A century later, the poets mention the request in which
professors of French were among foreigners. They relate how "good Queen
Bertha of the long feet spoke French like any lady of Paris"--more favored
in this than Chaucer's good prioress. There was a humorous poem current
among the people, in which _Dom. Barbarisme_ played a ludicrous part,
and which would not have circulated among the laity if they had no notion
of French grammar.
Domestic troubles and other causes, for whose introduction we have not
space, had effected the destruction of grammatical treatises previous to
1400. About that date the translator of the psalter into the vulgar tongue
thus bewailed the general ignorance:
"Et pour ceu que, nulz ne tient eu son parlier, ne rigle certenne,
mesure, ne raison. Est langue romance si corrompue qu' à poinne li uns
eutent l'aultres, et à poinne puet on trouveir à jour d'ieu personne qui
saiche escrire, anteir,(_Chanter_,) ne prononcieir en une meisme
semblant menieir, mais eseript, ante, et prononce, li uns en une guise,
et li aultre eu une aultre." [Footnote 129]
[Footnote 129: And because no one observes in his speech either a
certain rule, measure, or reason, the romance tongue is so corrupted
that scarcely one understands another, and scarcely can a person be
found to-day who knows how to write, sing, and pronounce in the same
manner; but they write, sing, and pronounce--one in one way, another in
a different way.]
{406}
The strong predilection of churchmen and princes for the Latin tongue was
one of the chief causes of the tardy amelioration of the French language
and French grammar. In a council held in the palace in 1398, where the
vulgar tongue was spoken, a learned ecclesiastic, by name Pierre Plaoul,
excused his indifferent style of speaking by his want of familiarity with
the tongue. Others spoke as bad or worse, but made no apology. It was as
late as 1345 that the government thought it advisable to put forth in the
language of the people laws respecting the tanners, curriers, and makers of
baldrics and shoes in Paris, as they were ignorant of Latin.
The early composers of French grammars under the new order, instead of
studying the spirit of the language as it was then spoken by educated
people, subjected it to the rules of the Latin tongue as given by Donatus
and others. Much time was lost and much linguistic error propagated by this
arrangement. As time went on, and that attention which had been entirely
given to a foreign tongue began to be shared with the language of the
country, some philologists took to study its construction, and frame
suitable rules for the government and concord of its chief parts; and by
degrees the orthography and the syntax of the language became subject to
laws which fitted its character.
Rhetoric.
Under the name rhetoric, as already mentioned, were joined to eloquence
historic recitals, letter writing, didactic teaching, translations, and
poetry. Few treatises on the art have survived. The Dominicans were fonder
of practising than teaching it, and some who taught it correctly could not
refrain from allegorizing on it in the style already alluded to. Under
Molenier's management, three kings, Barbarisme, Solecisme [Footnote 130],
and Allebolé, make war on three queens, Diction, Oration, and Sentence.
[Footnote 130: The Greek inhabitants of _Soli_ in Cillcia suffered
"their parts of speech" to be affected for the worse by intercourse
with the neighboring barbarians. So the fastidious Athenians began to
designate all infractions of grammar as _solecisms_.]
They possess in common ten arrows--pleonasm, tautology, ellipse, tapinosis,
(obscurity, qu.,) etc. Allebolé has thirteen daughters, Barbarisme
fourteen, and Solecisme twenty-two, and the number of grandchildren is not
small. If any reader desires to see how men of some talent can lose
themselves in matters trifling and intricate at the same time, let him
procure Molenier's treatise, or even that of the chronicler Chastellain,
where he will find Dame Rhetoric accompanied by science, gravity, multiform
riches, flowery memory, noble nature, precious possession, laudable
deduction, old acquisition, etc.
The professors of rhetoric in the middle ages had sundry classic writers to
fall back on, such as Quintilian, Aristotle, Cicero, etc. They had also the
aid of Priscian, Donatus, and Isadore of Seville. Among the earliest
specimens of eloquence assuming the garb of the vulgar tongue was the
eulogium pronounced on the brave Bertrand du Gueselin by the bishop of
Auxerre, Ferrie Cassinel, at the request of Charles VI. A poet of the
century thus described its effects:
"Les princes fondolent en larmes,
Des mots que l'evesque monstroit;
Quar il disoit, 'Plorez gens d'armes
Bertrant qui trestant vos amoit.
On doit regreter les fex d'armes
Qu'il fist au temps qu'il vivoit.
Dieux ait pitie sur toutes ames;
De la sienne quar bonne estoit.'"
[Footnote 131]
[Footnote 131:
"The princes melted in tears
At the words which the bishop spoke;
for he said, 'Weep, ye men of arms,
Bertrand, who so much loved you.
We should regret those feats of arms
Which he performed in the time he lived.
O God! have pity on all souls;
and in _his_, for he was good.'"]
Four men of that era distinguished themselves by eloquence at the bar, and
in addressing assemblies in the tumultuous days of the poor demented king.
Jean Faure and Guillaume le Breul besides their speeches, left behind them
valuable works on jurisprudence; and their learned contemporary, Yves de
Kaermarten, acquired such a good name that he was promoted to the Calendar
of Saints.
{407}
We are unable to quote any other gentleman of the bar whose sanctity
attained the heroic degree. Renault d'Acie and Jean des Marès ventured
among the political tempests of the day, and perished in their patriotic
efforts.
Few instances of eloquence, ancient or modern, could surpass that of
Charles the Bad, King of Navarre, if we can trust the chroniclers. Having
been released from prison, and brought to Paris, 29th November, 1357, he
ascended a platform near the Pre aux-cleres (the Clerk's Meadow) in the
morning, and kept a considerable portion of his ten thousand auditors
either crying at, or deeply sympathizing with, his pretended wrongs, till
the dinner hour of the citizens had passed. He afterward scattered his
poison among multitudes at the Greve and the Halles. His oration made to a
deputation at St. Denis bears an annoying resemblance to some delivered not
very long since in various American cities, by patriots of our own time:
"Gentlemen and friends," said he, "no ill luck can befall you which I
will not freely share. But I strongly counsel you, while you govern
Paris, to provide yourselves well with gold and silver. Confide in me.
Send me here freely all that you can put together. I shall give you a
good account of it, and will have at your service numerous men at arms,
many comrades who shall defend you from your enemies."
The speeches of the wicked king were mostly prefaced by texts, but it is
not rightly known whether this _argumentum ad crumenam_ was so
garnished.
While some exhibited their eloquence in defending or accusing prisoners,
and others spoke against king, or chiefs of obnoxious parties, some
minstrels were still to be found chanting the old romances for ready money.
In 1368, the municipal authorities of Valenciennes are found allowing
Colart de Maubeuge, "xii gros, in value vi sols ix deniers, for playing on
his instrument, and singing gests of arms." The ancient romances of
Charlemagne, of King Arthur, and of the wars of Troy, were still in
possession of the popular mind, but such poets as there were did not fail
to seize on recent or passing events, and do their best to immortalize
them, as well as perpetuate their own fame. The raising of the walls of New
Ross, on the Barrow, was celebrated by a poet of the day in two hundred and
nineteen verses, in which the patriotism of the citizens, and the clergy,
and the ladies, was sung, not forgetting the beauty of the women of all
degrees, whose delicate hands did not disdain to bring materials to the
masons. "Yet in no part of the earth, where the minstrel had been, did he
ever see such beauty."
"Kique la fu pur regarder
Meint bele dame, y put veer
Ke unke en terre ou jal esté,
Tants belies ne vi in fossé."
The siege of Carlaverock by King Edward I., in 1300, where six hundred men
defended the place against three thousand assailants, was sung by an
eye-witness in octo-syllabic rhyme.
The Vow of the Heron, commencing the war between Edward III. and Philippe
de Valois, was not neglected by the rhymers. Collins, trouvere of John of
Hainault, Lord of Beaumont, in a poem of five hundred and sixty-six
eight-syllable verses, lamented the fate of the brave old king of Bohemia,
and his ostrich plume and the other victims of the battle of Creci,
signalized by the minstrels of the era as in
"L'an mil iij.c.xl.vj.,
Que nos seigneurs furent occis
En la bataille de Creci;
Jhü Cris leur face mierci!"
[Footnote 132]
[Footnote 132:
"The year one thousand, three hundred, forty, and six,
When our lords were slain
In the battle of Creci;
Jesus Christ show them mercy!"]
{408}
The life and deeds of the Black Prince were commemorated by Chandos, the
herald of Sir John Chandos, Constable of Aquitaine, in five thousand and
forty-six verses, of the same measure as those others recorded. We quote a
few lines of the courteous communications between the captive king and the
chivalric prince.
"Li rois Johan lui ad dit,
'Beaux douis cosins pur Dieu mercit.
Laissez; il n'apartient a moi,
Car par la foi que jeo vous doi,
Plus avez ei jour d'hul d'honour
Qu'onques n'éust prince a un jour.'
Dont dist il prince, 'Sire douls,
Dieux l'ad fait et non mie nous.
Si l'en devons remercier,
Et de bon coer vers lui prier,
Qu'll nous ottroier sa gloire,
Et pardonner cesto victoire,'" etc.
[Footnote 133]
[Footnote 133:
"But King John to him said,
'Fair, sweet cousin, God-a-mercy,
Let be; it belongs to me not,
For, by the faith which I owe thee,
More honor this day you've won
Than ever did prince in any one day (of fight)'
Then to him said the prince, Sweet sire,
God has achieved it, not we ourselves,
So to him we should give thanks,
And with good heart thus pray to him,
That he would give us his glory,
And pardon this victory.'"]
The single-minded and patriotic Du Guesclin was not forgotten by the poetic
chroniclers. Jean Cuvelier, in 1384, put his deeds in verse.
Judicious historians have not disdained to avail themselves of these
productions of the rhymers. They have extracted those passages from them
which were despised by the matter-of-fact chroniclers, but which had an air
of probability, and were calculated to add picturesque and interesting
features to the narrative.
It is highly probable that every ancient narrative poem which was not
inspired by mere emulation of former poets had some foundation in fact. The
mere invention of subjects, as well as their treatment, is a feature of
comparatively modern times. The personages figured by _Reynard, Bruin,
Isgrim_, and the other animals of the great beast-epic of the middle
ages, once lived and acted some way in the spirit of their four-footed
substitutes.
Toward the end of the century, the taste for the old rhymes, romances, and
narratives began to veer round to more trivial and simple subjects, and to
take more interest in the distinctions between the different classes of the
shorter pieces of poetry. Prosody had been in process of cultivation for
some time, and now the attention of such dilettanti as filled courts and
the castles of the nobles was more strongly arrested upon feet, accents,
lengths, measures, and number of lines in each piece, than in the deed
recorded or sentiments expressed.
While Froissart was searching for material for his chronicle, in 1392,
Eustache des Champs was instructing poetic students in the difference
between _chansons, balades, virelais,_ and _rondeaux_. He was
well entitled to do so, having himself composed 80 virelais, 171 rondeaux,
1,175 balades. These ballads he divided into _Leonines, Sonnantes,
equivoques, retrogrades,_ etc., etc.; but in the next century his merits
were forgotten in presence of Henri de Croy, who subdivided his ballads
into _communes, balladantes, fatrisées_, and the rondeaux into simple,
twin, and double. Then care should be taken not to mix the rhymes beaten,
broken, re-linked, doubled tailed, etc., in form of amorous complaint. The
combination denominated _ricquerac_, and that called _baguenaude_
we would explain but for the misfortune of being ignorant of their
structure. The first, perhaps, was a disjointed affair, like some negro
melody, the other, a perpetual hovering round the predominant idea,
whatever it might be.
That was the golden age of bouts rimés, logogriphes, enigmas,
chronographes, achrostiches, and fatfasies, (unmeaning combinations of
words.) In Henri de Croy's great work, even the single fatrasies were
distinguished from the double ones. The reign of these egregious morsels
still lingers in some almanacs, people's penny periodicals, and even in the
Paris Illustrated News, where the logogriph, consisting partly of letters
and partly of pictured objects, keeps the subscribers in misery till next
Saturday, when the solution appears.
{409}
The taste of the public with regard to spectacles was not superior to that
of the readers of the time for such trifles as have been just mentioned. In
1313, when the young princes, sons of Philip the Fair, received the order
of knighthood, a grand mystery was exhibited to the people of Paris, where
the Infant Saviour was presented smiling on his mother and eating an apple,
surrounded by the three kings of Cologne, (the Magi,) the twelve apostles
saying their paternosters, the souls of the blessed in paradise singing
hymns in unison with ninety angels, and the reprobate in hell howling for
the entertainment of about a hundred demons.
Of translations, which were also included under the head rhetoric, we have
already spoken. As Latin was almost the only language from which the
versions were made, the spirit of that language must have had considerable
influence on future compositions in the vulgar tongue.
Dialectics.
In teaching and learning the dialectics, which embraced metaphysics,
jurisprudence, political economy, and even claimed physics for its
jurisdiction, the object seemed rather a victory in a war of words and
ideas than discoveries of new truths or the establishment of old ones.
Hair-splitting and sophistry flourished in all the contests. So useless and
even criminal seemed this amazing waste of time to quiet-minded and earnest
people, that a legend was current in the twelfth century of a dead scholar
appearing to a comrade in a robe of hell all covered with sophisms. Another
displayed himself wrapped round and oppressed with a heavy parchment all
covered with closely written exercises in the _dialectique_. Both
attributed their present sufferings to the sort of logic they had acquired
in the Paris schools.
Irish students were as redoubtable in these witty duels in the Sorbonne and
in Salamanca as Irish colonels and generals of later times in the armies of
France and Spain and Austria. In metaphysics, the realists, with John Duns
Scotus for leader, warred with the nominalists, using such arms as were
supplied by substantial forms, quiddities, heccéites, polycarpéites, and
other such chimeras, the result being nothing but obscurity of the
understanding from these clashings in the dark. Sometimes the sharp-witted
dialecticians intruded rashly on the domains of theology and morality, and
were smartly pulled up, as in the case of the great interpreter of
Aristotle, Nicolas d'Autrecourt, in 1348, for this ingenious proposition:
"A young man of good birth met with a sage who undertook to communicate
the 'universal science' to him without delay, for a hundred crowns; but
the young man had no other means to procure the money than by stealing
it. Was he justified in this theft? Certainly; for we must do what is
agreeable to God; but it was agreeable to God that this young man should
get instruction, and he had no other means to get it than theft; ergo,"
etc.
A sharp condemnation by the Theological Faculty of Paris was all the honor
awarded to Mr. Nicolas's plausible conclusion.
In physics and natural history, our philosophers of the middle ages were
more prone to depend on Aristotle and Pliny, and later dreamy sages, than
to resort to careful observation. Theory, not induction, was their darling
mode of enlarging the domain of human knowledge, and no fact fitted
comfortably in its place without being moralized. Far away in the realms of
Prester John were to be found giants, pigmies, men with one eye in front
and three behind, female warriors, griffins, licorns, and alerions, animals
well adapted to point a moral.
The learned Pierre Bercheure, who translated Livy, informed his readers
that the toad was mute in every country but France. _Moral_: The
Frenchman, a babbler at home, is perforce mute when he goes abroad. The
learned Bercheure either intended to hint that the Gaul too much neglected
the study of foreign languages, or that, while vainglorious at home, he
became meek and humble when he crossed the frontier.
{410}
Still proceeding in this moral strain, Dr. Bercheure asked, "Why, in the
territory of Orange, was utterance by sound denied to all toads, one only
excepted?" No answer being received, he gave this explanation: The holy
bishop, Florent, being much disturbed in his meditations by the
disagreeable songs of the toads, ordered them to be silent. They obeyed on
the moment, and the good bishop was so touched by their prompt attention to
his command that he revoked his order. However, the stupid messenger who
brought the news, instead of using the plural form of the
verb--_cantate_--merely said _canta_, and thus only one of the
community ever after could avail itself of the privilege: nasty Mercury!
say we. These additions to Pliny could scarcely be called improvements in
the science of natural history.
For a long time the healing art was nearly monopolized by the religious
houses, but it was not so without an occasional scruple of conscience on
the part of the chiefs in the various orders. They feared that their art
might too much engross the attention of the practitioners. To moderate
their mere scientific ardor, the following legend was sent abroad among
them: There was a skilful medical man among the monks of Citeaux, whose
time was so much taken up in provincial excursions that he was not found in
the convent unless at the great festivals. As he was employed on one of the
feasts of the Blessed Virgin, singing in choir with the rest, he was
favored with a vision of his heavenly patroness distributing a spoonful of
elixir to every one of the singers, himself alone excepted. He made a
gesture of supplication not to be treated to such an unenviable
distinction, but this reply reached the recesses of his understanding
without any action of the senses: "Physician, thou hast no need for my
elixir, for you do not deny to yourself any consolation." A radical change
was wrought in the man, and on the next solemnity he was favored as the
rest. Such was the rapture into which he was thrown, that for the future
his healing excursions were as short and as few as possible.
There was no college of physicians at Paris nor Montpellier in the
beginning of the twelfth century, but considerable progress was made in
founding medical establishments during the next two hundred years. Some
enthusiastic pill-taker thus expanded in commendation of the faculty of
Paris in 1323:
"In this city, where there is no want or consolation or succor, the
physicians appointed to look after our health and the cure of our
maladies, and whom the sage orders us to honor as being created by the
Most High for our needs, are so numerous that, when they pass through the
streets to discharge their duty in their rich dresses and in their
doctoral caps, those who have need of them have little trouble to get an
interview. Oh! how we should love these good physicians, who, in the
practice of their profession, philosophically conform themselves to the
rules of science and long experience!"
We have seen a copy of the Medical Review, a brochure, in rhyme, issued in
Dublin circa 1775, eulogizing by name the several physicians and surgeons
who practised in our city at that period. It was written throughout in the
spirit of the above extract, and, but for the evident good faith of the
writer, would be supremely ludicrous.
All the old writers on the subject were not so complimentary to the
faculty. Some of the members deserved what they got if they were of the
sect of the impudent Arnaud de Villeneuve, some of whose counsels to his
students took this shape: "You examine perhaps the ... of a patient without
being anything the wiser for it, but say, 'There is an obstruction in the
liver.' The patient may perhaps answer, 'But, master, it is in my head I
feel the illness.' You answer without hesitation, 'It is from the liver it
comes.' Always make use of the word obstruction. They don't know the
meaning of it, and it's all for the best that they should not."
{411}
But skilful or the reverse, the doctors of the fourteenth century found all
their resources powerless to arrest the epidemic which about the middle of
it swept across Europe. Its visitations were more appalling than those of
cholera in our times. The physicians behaved as feeling and heroic men, and
were swept off in thousands, while doing their duty by their patients.
There was no writer found to introduce a series of licentious stories as
sequel to a harrowing account of the scourge.
Among those who essayed to cure Charles VI. of his mental malady was Arnaud
Guillem, who came in 1393 from Languedoc to Paris, bringing with him the
volume Smagorad, which "Adam had received by way of consolation a century
after the death of Abel." There is some doubt about his being put to death
for failure; but two Augustine monks suffered in 1398, and four sorcerers
in 1403, for the same liberty taken with sick majesty. It is probable that
the heads stuck on spikes over palace gates for similar failures in our
Household Stories had some foundation in pre-historic times. In one of his
lucid intervals the poor king directed that once in the year the dead body
of a criminal should be delivered to the Faculty of Medicine at
Montpellier, a proof that he set more value on the study of the human
subject than the virtue of charms or other superstitious processes. Among
medical treatises of the fourteenth century, some disfigured by the dreams
of the astrologer, the alchymist, and the sorcerer, that of Gui de Chauliai
stands pre-eminent for scientific attainment.
Arithmetic Geometry, Music, and Astronomy.
At first scholars were careful to avoid the title of mathematicians.
Something magical and occult was attached to it, as in the old Roman times.
Mathematician and felon were synonymous terms. Mere arithmetic was in
better odor; it was useful in concocting the ordinary tables set in the
beginning of prayer-books, and including the golden number, the epact, the
dominical letter, etc.[Footnote 134] Calendars were carefully compiled all
through the era in question. It has often puzzled us to know how
calculations to any extent could be effected by the Xs and Vs and Is which
denoted numbers previous to the eleventh century. Wretched was the pupil's
lot (if such an incident ever took place) required to perform an operation
in long division, in multiplication by tens of thousands, or to extract the
cube root of a large number. Great are our obligations to the Arabians for
the use of their system of notation.
[Footnote 134: These names mysterious to scholars of city and
university, were household words with the masters of Hedge schools and
their advanced pupils half a century ago.]
A household joke of the day throws light on the incapacity of the wives of
small citizens to manage deep calculations. A few of the husbands drinking
agree that he whose wife could not count up to four accurately should pay
the reckoning. The calculation of Robin's wife was "One, two, three, seven,
twelve, and fourteen." John's wife began at two. Tassin's wife tossed her
head, and said she was not a baby, and would not count at all. We cannot
find out which of the husbands paid the scot.
The geometry of the day chiefly confined itself to the measurement of land,
but there were treatises on perspective, and portions of the Latin Euclid
extant.
Charles the Wise was not without charts and maps of the world. Many such
existed, but, as may be supposed, tolerably incorrect. The earth was
supposed to consist of two hemispheres, glued, as it were, to each other,
and the globe somehow maintained its place in the void like a suspended
lamp.
In 1366, King Charles V., in order to prevail on Pope Urban V. not to
remove to Rome, urged that Marseilles was in the centre of the civilized
world. This would be rendered still more sensible by cutting off Greece
from the general map.
{412}
"The schismatic Greeks cut themselves off from the spiritual world by their
separation from the church: let their land be removed from the material
world." It does not appear that this ingenious proposition was put in
practice.
Of accounts of foreign parts there was no lack, and it must be said that
the early books of travels and accounts of countries, if less strictly
confined to facts than ours, were much more entertaining. A copy of Marco
Polo's travels was presented in 1307 to Charles Count of Valois by John de
Cepoy, son of the Venetian ambassador. John de Meun translated into French
the Wonders of Ireland. They had also the Wonders of England, India, the
World, etc.
Several works were composed in the fourteenth century on the subject of
music, but chiefly in Latin and with reference to the established canons of
sacred melody.
Astronomy had a hard strife with the impostor astrology, which had been so
long in possession of the general intellect. However, some glimmerings of
the true state of heavenly things had been gradually entering the minds of
the astrologers themselves. The total eclipse of the moon on the night of
the 15th of January, 1305, terrified the Parisians. It was mentioned as an
_Eclipsis Lunae horribilis_. But an eclipse of the sun, 31st January,
1310, was predicted by the Faculty of Astronomy. Another in 1337 was
treated of by John of Genoa, who, in 1332, had composed his canon of
eclipses. Comets gave considerable disturbance to the public mind during
this century. They predicted the death of Louis X., and the destruction of
France, the plague, and all varieties of deceit, lies, hatred, and
insubordination, etc. However, science was making a sure though slow
progress, and toward the close of the century the learned were in
possession of many astronomical facts unknown at the beginning. The comets
made their fearful visits at these dates--March, 1315, July, 1337. April,
1338, 1340, 1346, 1360, 1368, 1378.
Several voyages and land journeys were performed during this century, and
among the rest that by our own Sir John Mandeyille, some of whose
discoveries were inferior to those of the truth-loving Lemuel Gulliver
alone. The Holy Land possessed strong attractions for devout and cultivated
souls. Of all these the most enthusiastic was the Tuscan Dominican,
Riccoldo di Monte da Croce. Having gained the valley of Josaphat, he
believed himself at the end of the world, and thus gave vent to his burning
thoughts:
"We saw about the middle or the valley the tomb of the Blessed Virgin
Mary, and, considering it to be the place of the final Judgment, we
passed between the Mount of Olives and Mount Cavalry, weeping, and
trembling with fear, as if the Supreme Judge was already above our heads.
In this sentiment of awe we thought within ourselves, and we said to each
other--'It is from above this hill that the most Just of Judges will
pronounce his decision. Here is the right hand, there is the left. We
then selected, to the best of our judgment, our places on the right, and
each sunk in the ground a stone to denote his own. I sunk mine, and I
retain that spot for myself, and for all those who, after receiving from
me the word of God, shall persevere in faith, in charity, and in the
truth of the holy gospel, and we marked the stone in the presence of many
of the faithful, who wept with us, and whom I call on as witnesses this
day."
We have come to the end of our sketch of the progress of intelligence
during a brief portion of its course, namely, that portion immediately
preceding the epoch of the invention of the printing-press. The impediments
in the way of scientific progress were great and humorous. Many weak
spirits were discouraged, and did nothing; others, some few of whom we have
particularized, wrought like giants, and thus benefited themselves and
their kind. Among these benefits we do not reckon in chief the conveniences
and luxuries which distinguish our existence from that of the Samoyeds or
dog-ribbed Indians. The Mussulman, well to do, and spending the eleven
twelfths of his time in mere indolence and indulgence of the senses, would
be better off discharging the duties of porter or ferryman.
{413}
No, the chief advantages we derive from the advance of human knowledge is
the easier and swifter communication between the scattered members of the
great human family, the advance of education among the working classes, and
the healthy occupation of so many active and energetic minds, which,
without suitable work to do, would prey on themselves, and become a curse
to their possessors.
------
Original.
Laudate Pueri Dominum. [Footnote 135]
[Footnote 135: Died at the Convent of the Visitation, Georgetown,
D.C. on the 18th of April, .... a young girl thirteen years of age,
who was received into the bosom of the Holy Church October 2d, 1866.]
"I will wash my hands among the Innocent,
and so will I compass thy altar, O Lord!"
Oct. 2d. Feast Of The Holy Guardian Angels. Baptism
In snowy robe and spotless veil
Stands the fair child at the altar rail.
"Of Holy Church what askest thou?"
"The FAITH," she murmured. Upon her brow
The bright drops fell. An angel smiled
In the face of God, all he said: "Thy Child!"
Dec. 8th. Feast Of The Immaculate Conception. First Communion.
In snowy robe and spotless veil
Kneels the fair child at the altar rail.
"Of Holy Chinch what cravest thou,
On suppliant knee and with rev'rent brow?"
"My Lord, my Hope, in whom I live."
"'Tis thy Child!" said the angel. "Master, give!"
April 14th. Palm Sunday. Burial.
In snowy robe and spotless veil
Lies the fair child at the altar rail.
"Of Holy Church what askest thou,
Palm-branch in hand, and with flower-crowned brow?"
"In robe baptismal yet undefiled,
MY LOVE!" Said the angel: "He waits thee, Child!"
------
{414}
Translated from Paris l'Union.
Christianity And Social Happiness.
It is the fate of illustrious men to reproduce the tendencies of the age in
which they live--whether for good or evil. Thus, the study of characters,
that the engraver of fame has impressed on the memory of humanity, leads
frequently to a knowledge of the age to which they belonged, and from this
knowledge much that is useful can be elicited.
A man has lived among us, whose noble character, generous aspirations,
illusions even, or exaggerations, are reflected in his contemporaries.
Lacordaire is France of the nineteenth century, and the thought that
germinated in the soul of the celebrated Dominican, and until his time
awaited its development, borne down by the weight of intellectual ruin
which the school of Voltaire had amassed, this thought harmonizes so well
with the genius of the day, and with its research, that it seems impossible
not to recognize the ray of light destined to dissipate for ever the
shadows of doubt and unbelief, which lead astray and weaken the life of our
generation.
"I have attained to my catholic belief," writes Lacordaire, "through my
social beliefs, and today nothing appears plainer to me than such a
consequence. Society is necessary, therefore the Christian religion is
divine; for it is the means of leading society to perfection by accepting
man with all his weaknesses, and social order with its every condition."
Such words cannot be too deeply considered; and the truths that they
express are in such close affinity with the tendencies of our time that it
is easy and profitable to meditate upon them. We wish for the happiness of
the masses, social prosperity, and the advancement of civilization;
therefore, we wish for Christianity. Humanity is called upon to peaceably
develop its strength, while releasing itself from the bonds of the monster
called pauperism, with whom physical misery is only the clothing of moral.
Therefore humanity is called upon to germinate in a reviving sun all
Christian teachings.
Do you wish for facts? You are children of an age that acts only by
experience. Well, then, light the torch of history, and, throwing its rays
over the annals of the world, read the observations spread before your
eyes, and compare the actual state of an ancient and modern people. In
instructing and bringing man to a sense of his greatness and duty, who has
raised and elevated social relations? Who has broken the chains of pagan
slavery? Who has sown the seed of all intellectual and moral virtue in
those vast regions that barbarian night had enveloped? Who, then, has given
servants to weakness, to suffering, to the disinherited by fortune, to all
those that grief had touched with an unpitying hand? Who has founded large
schools, asylums of science and art; great centres from which have parted
in radiating those who, by gigantic works, accomplished under the
observation of astonished generations, have merited the appellation of the
Cultivators of Europe? Who has done all these things, if not the church,
that is to say, Christianity teaching, directing, and moralizing humanity?
Christianity, then, not only elevates man to a moral grandeur unknown to
pagan nations, but through its influence society exists in a material
prosperity to which Greece and Rome never attained. Profane history shows
us a few privileged ones, satiated, we may say, with riches, but beneath
and around them, we see only a servile mass vegetating in degrading misery.
{415}
What a difference, say we, with a modern wise economist, M. Perin,
professor in the university or Louvain--what a difference in the riches of
the sun between the Roman empire in its happiest time and contemporary
Europe! What difference in products, in the multiplicity and rapidity of
communication, in the cheapness of transportation, and in the extent of
relations which to-day embrace the entire world!
What a difference, again, in the financial resources of states, in their
armies, in their material. What a difference and what superiority on the
side of modern nations, not only in that which constitutes their individual
happiness, but in that which makes the material power of nations and their
true force. What superiority especially in the mass of wealth destined for
the consumption of a people. Time, since the thirteenth century, has rolled
on in the full power of Christian civilization, and has evidenced a period
of prosperity which has had no equal in history. These are the facts. But
science does not stop at facts. Its mission is to investigate by labor of
which it only has the secret and the glorious trouble, the why as well as
the end of things.
Science is the knowledge of objects of observation studied by their causes:
cognitio rerum per causas. We ask of it, therefore, the reason of the
marvellous power we have just proved in Christianity; and in order not to
extend our investigations, we will content ourselves by seeking with it how
material prosperity and the wealth of nations come from a religion which
preaches the doctrine of renunciation.
The reason of the prosperity of nations truly Christian is, it seems to us,
evident. We find them practising generally the virtues of which
Christianity is the apostle and propagator. Economists will tell, you
without capital, that is to say, without expenditure with the view of
reproduction, there can be no social riches. But is this expenditure
compatible with vice, that never has enough to satisfy its brutal
appetites?
Virtue, then, is the source of social ease, and in it only the remedy for
pauperism. "If you do not give a people virtue, the only serious guarantee
of present expenditure and future capital, you can never entirely defend it
against an invasion of misery. In vain you may accumulate well-being and
ease around the domestic hearth; in vain make and increase capital from
growing wealth, if you do not accumulate a capital conservative of all
other, that of virtue." We are happy to quote these beautiful words, only a
few days since fallen from the pulpit of Notre Dame.
Just now we pronounced the word renunciation. Well, it is necessary that
all understand that Christian self-denial is a dispensing force, the
results of which are incalculable. It elevates the poor man beyond
discouragement, and preserves for him the energy with which he diminishes
the privations of his family. To him it comes to destroy the individuality
which absorbs the opulence of the rich. To him it leads the beneficent
current of fortune, which flows from those who have toward those who have
not. To him, at last, it brings riches in every way, since under its mild
influence each one profits by its thousand sacrifices, although he
individually may make none. Let us be permitted to borrow some lines from
the beautiful book of M. Périn, De la Richesse dans les Sociétés
Chrétiennes:
"Follow the course of ages," said this wise economist, "and you will ever
find Christianity accomplish through the virtue of self-denial the work of
each epoch, forcing humanity toward progress, and even saving it from the
perils of success. Run through the society of to-day, and in every degree
of civilization that a contemporary world presents us, in the same picture
and at a single glance, and in the varied phases that pervade our different
societies, you will find Christianity proportion its action to
circumstances; you will find it endeavoring to impress all countries and
races with the salutary impulse for progress by the power of self-denial,
while it is ever the same in principle, and ever infinitely varied in its
applications and fertile in its effects."
{416}
Self-denial! Yes, it is this which gives Christian souls that holy love of
work which is the productive element of social riches. To make a sacrifice
of one's repose to God, while bending under the yoke of painful labor, is
the joy of the Scripture disciple. He wishes for such joy, he loves it, and
it was to obtain it that the children of Saint Benedict have sown its seed
in the uncultivated deserts of the old Europe or under the murderous sun of
Africa.
At the time of its decay and corruption Rome, it is said, was at the same
time lazy and servile. But, even in the days of its grandeur, can we
believe that labor showed itself to the eyes of the Roman people
transfigured by that aureole which gives it incomparable beauty, so grand
that one loves it with a love which might seem folly if it were not supreme
wisdom? Such a sentiment can only be born with the doctrine of renunciation
and the thought of the Saviour. "To re-establish labor and the condition of
the workman, it was necessary that Christ, making himself a laborer, should
wield with his own royal and divine hands, in the workshop of Nazareth, the
axe and the tools of the carpenter."
These words, which we borrow from a course of political economy, delivered
with so much eloquence to the Faculté de Droit de Caen, by M. Alexandre
Carel, finish by exemplifying how labor, and, by consequence, the wealth of
society, owes so much to Christianity.
The limits of an article do not permit us to develop further the ideas
necessary to understand all its power and truth. We can only resume them in
saying:
To occupy one's self with social and political studies is to follow the
impulse that our age impresses on intelligence. To find the condition
necessary for the well-being of society, of which we form a part, would be
from the point of view of contemporary aspirations one of the finest
victories that the public mind could carry with it, one of the greatest
satisfactions that the heart can obtain. Well! may our eyes open at last.
Let us learn to see that, without neglecting secondary means, it is
necessary, to attain the end desired, to christianize the people.
Christianity with its virtues, its doctrine of self-renunciation, its labor
transfigured by freedom and love, behold the agent, and the only one
capable of producing the prosperity with which we would wish to endow
nations. Let us understand these things, and we shall march with success to
the conquest of social happiness. But we shall do better still. Penetrating
the harmonious connection that unites effects to causes, we shall ask of it
the secret of the superhuman power that escapes from it by submission to
the Scripture; and soon we can repeat again the conviction of Lacordaire:
"Christianity is the means of leading society to its perfection, by
accepting man with all his weaknesses, and social order with its even
condition. Society is necessary; therefore the Christian religion is
divine."
------
{417}
From The Lamp.
Visible Speech.
Mr. Alexander Melville Bell has recently brought under the notice of the
Society of Arts his very remarkable system of Visible Speech or Universal
Language, which is (says Chamber's Journal) intended to remove an absurdity
which vitiates all ordinary alphabets and languages. This absurdity is the
utter want of agreement between the appearance of a letter or word and the
sound which it is intended to convey; between the visible form of the
symbol and the sound and meaning of the thing symbolized; between (for
instance) the shape of the letter C and the value of that letter in the
alphabets which contain it. This is an old difficulty--how old, we do not
know; but to understand the proposed remedy, it will be necessary to have a
clear idea of the defect to which the remedy is to be applied.
Spoken language may, for aught we know, have had its origin in an attempt
to imitate, by the organs of the voice, the different sounds which animate
and inanimate nature presents. Man could thus recall to the minds of those
around him those notions of absent objects and past actions with which the
sounds are connected. The expression of abstract qualities by the same
means would be a later object, and one more difficult of attainment. When
the eye instead of the ear had to be appealed to, or the signs rendered
visible instead of audible, the system of hieroglyphics would at once
suggest itself, by marking on a tablet or paper, a piece of ground or a
smooth surface of sand, a rude picture of the object intended. When we get
beyond these preliminary stages, however, the difficulty rapidly increases.
There is no visible picture by which we could convey the meaning of such
sentiments as are called in English virtue, justice, fear, and the like,
except by so elaborate a composition as it would require an artist to
produce; nor could an audible symbol for each of these sentiments be
framed. It would take a Max Müller to trace how the present complication
gradually arose. That there _is_ a complication, anyone may see in a
moment. What is there in the shape of the five letters forming the word
table, in these particular combinations of curved and straight lines, to
denote either the sound of the word or the movements of the mouth and other
vocal organs which produce its utterance? Nothing whatever. Any other
combination of straight and curved lines might be made familiar by common
use, and substituted for our plain English word, with as little attention
to any analogy between the visible symbol and the sound of the thing
symbolized.
Numerous attempts have been made to devise some sort of alphabet in which
the shapes of the letters should in some way be dependent on the movements
of the vocal organs--not actual pictures of them, but analogies, more or
less complete. Without going to earlier labors, we may adduce those of
Professor Willis. Nearly forty years ago, he showed that the ordinary vowel
sounds--_a, e, i, o, u_--are produced on regular acoustic principles;
that "the different vowel sounds may be produced artificially, by throwing
a current of air upon a reed in a pipe; and that, as the pipe is lengthened
or shortened, the vowels are successively produced"--not in the order
familiar to us, but in the order _i, e, a, o, u_, (and with the
continental sounds,
_i_ like _ee_,
_e_ like _ay_,
_a_ like _ah_,
_u_ like _oo_.)
{418}
Eighty or ninety years ago, Mr. Kratzenstein contrived an apparatus for
imitating the various vowel sounds. He adapted a vibrating reed to a set of
pipes of peculiar forms. Soon afterward, Mr. Kempelen succeeded in
producing the vowel sounds by adapting a reed to the bottom of a
funnel-shaped cavity, and placing his hand in various positions within the
funnel. He also contrived a hollow oval box, divided into two portions, so
attached by a hinge as to resemble jaws; by opening and closing the jaws,
he produced various vowel sounds; and by using jaws of different shapes, be
produced imperfect imitations of the consonant sounds _l, m_, and
_p_. By constructing an imitative mouth of a bell-shaped piece of
caoutchouc, imitative nostrils of two tin tubes, and imitative lungs in the
form of a rectangular wind-chest, he produced with more or less
completeness the familiar sounds of _n, d, g, k, s, j, v, t_, and
_r_. By combining these he produced the words _opera, astronomy,_
etc., and the sentences _Vous etes mon ami--Je vous aime de tout mon
coeur_. By introducing various changes in some such apparatus as this,
Professor Willis has developed many remarkable facts concerning the mode in
which wind passes through the vocal organs during oral speech.
The useful work would be, however, not to imitate vocal sounds by means of
mechanism, but to write them so that they should give more information as
to their mode of production than our present alphabet affords. Such was the
purport of the _Phonetic_ system, which had a life of great activity
from ten to twenty years ago, but which has since fallen into comparative
obscurity. Mr. Ellis and the Messrs. Pitman published very numerous works,
either printed in the phonetic language itself, or intended to develop its
principles. Bible Histories, the New Testament, the Sermon on the Mount,
Pilgrim's Progress, Paradise Lost, Macbeth, The Tempest--all were printed
in the new form; and there were numerous works under such titles as
Phonetic or Phonographic Alphabets. Almanacs, Journals, Miscellanies,
Hymn-books, Note-books, Primers, Lesson-books, and the like. The intention
was not so much to introduce new forms of letters, as new selections of
existing letters to convey the proper sounds of words. There was an
unfortunate publication, the Fonetik Nuz, which worked more harm than good
to the system, seeing that it was made a butt for laughter and
ridicule--more formidable to contend against than logical argument.
Mr. Bell contemplates something more than this. He has been known in
Edinburgh for twenty years in connection with numerous works relating to
reading, spelling, articulation, orthoëpy, elocution, the language of the
passions, the relations between letters and sounds, logograms for
shorthand, and the like. As a writer and teacher on these subjects, he had
felt, with many other persons, how useful it would be if we could have a
system of letters of universal application; letters which, when learned in
connection with any one language, could be vocalized with uniformity in
every other. There are two obstacles to the attainment of this end: first,
that the association between the existing letters and sounds is merely
arbitrary; and second, that international uniformity of association is
impracticable, because the sounds of different languages, and their mutual
relations, have not hitherto been ascertained with exactitude or
completeness.
Mr. Bell, as he tells us, feeling that all attempted collations of existing
alphabets have failed to yield the elements of a complete alphabet, tried
in a new direction. Instead of going to languages to discover the elements
of utterance, he went to the apparatus of speech itself, endeavoring to
classify all the movements of tongue, teeth, lips, palate, etc., concerned
in the pronunciation of vocal sounds. By this means, he hoped to obtain,
from the physiological basis of speech, an organic scale of sounds which
should include all varieties, known and unknown.
{419}
To transfer these sounds to paper, in the form of visible characters, a new
alphabet was necessary. To have adopted letters from the Roman, Greek, or
other alphabets, constructed on no common principle of symbolization, would
have been to introduce complexity and confusion, and to create a conflict
between old and new associations. He therefore discarded old letters and
alphabets of every kind. He set himself the task of inventing a new scheme
of symbols, each of which should form a definite part of a complete design;
insomuch that, if the plan of the alphabet were communicated by diagrams,
each letter would teach its own sound, by expressing to the reader's eye
the exact position of the sound in the physiological circuit. Could this
object be attained, not only would there be a universal alphabet; there
would be a scheme of letters representative of sounds, and not, like
ordinary alphabets, associated with sounds only by arbitrary conventions.
Mr. Bell believes that he has achieved this result, and his expositions
before the Ethnological Society, the College of Preceptors, and the Society
of Arts, have had for their object the presentation of various phases of
the system. The fitness of the term _visible_ speech may, be urges, be
shown by the analogy of an artist, who, wishing to depict a laughing face,
draws the lines of the face as seen under the influence of mirth; be
depicts, in fact, _visible_ laughter. Every passion and sentiment,
emotion and feeling, has this kind of facial writing; and an idea of it
might be expressed on paper by a picture of the muscular arrangements of
the face, so that all persons seeing the symbols would have a common
knowledge of their meaning. In forming any sound, we adjust the parts of
the mouth to certain definite attitudes; and the sound is the necessary
result of our putting the mouth in such a shape. If, then, we could
represent the various positions of the mouth, we should have in those
symbols a representation of the sounds which cannot but result from putting
the mouth in the positions symbolized. Now, Mr. Bell claims to have applied
this system of symbolization to every possible arrangement of the mouth: he
claims that, whatever your language, and whether you speak a refined or a
rustic dialect, he can show, in the forms of his new letters, the exact
sounds you make use of. If this be so, a Chinaman may read English, or an
Englishman Chinese, without any difficulty or uncertainty, after he has
learned to form his mouth in accordance with the directions given him by
the letters. Nearly all the existing alphabets contain vestiges of a
similar relation between letters and sounds--a relation which has nearly
disappeared during the changes which alphabetic characters have gradually
undergone. Mr. Bell gave the following anecdote illustrating this relation:
"Shortly before I left Edinburgh, in the early part of last year, an
elderly lady called on me, accompanied by two young ladies, who were going
out to India as missionaries. The elderly lady had been for upward of
twenty years engaged in mission work, and she spoke the language of the
district like a native. Nevertheless, she could not teach the English girls
to pronounce some of the peculiar sounds which she had acquired by habit.
They had been for some time under her instruction, but they could not catch
the knack of certain characteristic elements. Having heard of 'Visible
Speech,' the lady called to solicit my assistance. I know nothing of the
language she pronounced before me. Some of the sounds I had never heard in
linguistic combinations, though, of course, I am acquainted with them
theoretically. I saw the young ladies for half an hour, but this proved
long enough to give them the power of pronouncing the difficult sounds
which, while they did not know precisely what to do, they could not
articulate. Strangely enough, since I came to reside in London, I heard a
clergyman and former missionary, speaking of these very girls, remark on
the great success with which they pronounced the Canarese language before
they left this country; and the speaker knew nothing of their previous
difficulty, or how it had been overcome."
{420}
The system analyzes all sounds according to the mode in which they are
produced. The number of sounds discriminated in various languages amounts
to several times the number of letters in the English alphabet; and even in
English, although there are only twenty-six letters, there are at least
forty different sounds. The Church Missionary Society employ nearly two
hundred different letters or symbols in their several printed books; and
the list is even then imperfect as regards many of the languages.
Mr. Bell finds thirty symbols sufficient to denote all the two hundred
varieties of vowel and consonant sounds. What kind of symbols they are, we
do not know, (for a reason presently to be explained;) but he states that,
while each elementary sound has its own single type to express it in
printing, he requires only thirty actual types to express them as used in
language. Each symbol has a name, which does not include the sound of the
letter, but merely describes its form. The learner has thus at first only
to recognize pictures. But the name of the symbol also expresses the
arrangement of the mouth which produces the sound; so that, when the symbol
is named, the organic formation of its sound is named at the same time. In
order that thirty symbols may denote two hundred sounds, Mr. Bell has
adopted certain modes of classification. All vowels receive a common
generic symbol, all consonants another; vocality and whisper have their
respective symbols; so have inspiration, retention, and expulsion of
breath; so have the touching and the vibration of the several vocal organs;
so have the lips, the palate, the pharynx, the glottis, and the different
parts of the tongue; so has the breathing of sounds through the nostrils,
or through nearly closed teeth. There are thirty of these generic meanings
altogether, and they are combined to make up letters, every part of every
letter having a meaning. The thirty symbols need not be represented
mechanically by exactly thirty types; they may be embodied in a larger or
smaller number, according to taste or convenience; such of the symbols as
together represent simple elements of speech being properly combined in
single types. "The highest possible advantages of the system," we are told,
"would be secured by extending the number of types to about sixty. At
present, I and my sons--as yet the only experts in the use of visible
speech--write the alphabet in a form that would be cast on between forty
and fifty types, which is but little more than the number in an ordinary
English fount, including diphthongs and accented letters. This number does
not require to be exceeded in order to print, with typographic simplicity,
the myriad dialects of all nations."
Mr. Bell pointed out the prospective usefulness of his system in
telegraphic communication. The symbols of speech may, in all their
varieties, be transmitted by telegraph, through any country, without the
necessity for a knowledge of the language adopted on the part of the
signaller. He would only have to discriminate forms of letters; he may be
totally ignorant of the value of a single letter, and yet may convey the
telegram so as to be intelligible to the person to whom it is virtually
addressed. It is known that the telegrams from India now reach London in a
sadly mutilated and unintelligible state, owing to their passing through
the hands of Turkish and Persian agents who do not know the English
alphabet; an evil which, it is contended, would be removed by the adoption
of the new system.
{421}
The mode in which Mr. Bell illustrated his method was curious and
interesting. His son uttered a great variety of sounds--whispered
consonants, vocal consonants, vowels, diphthongs, nasal vowels,
interjections, inarticulate sounds, animal sounds, mechanical sounds--all
of which are susceptible of being represented in printed or written
symbols. Then, the son being out of the room, several gentlemen came
forward and repeated short sentences to Mr. Bell, some in Arabic, some in
Persian, some in Bengali, some in Negro patois, some in Gaelic, some in
Lowland Scotch, some in Norfolk dialect; Mr. Bell wrote down the sounds as
he heard them, without, except in one or two cases, knowing the purport of
the words. The son was called in, and, looking attentively at the writing,
repeated the sentences with an accuracy of sound and intonation which
seemed to strike those who were best able to judge as being very
remarkable.
There is something a little tantalizing in the present state of the
subject. We know that there is _a_ system of symbols, but we do not
know the symbols themselves. Mr. Bell states that, besides the members of
his own family, only three persons have been made acquainted with the
symbols, and the details of their formation--namely, Sir David Brewster,
Professor de Morgan, and Mr. Ellis. He has not intended, and does not
intend, to secure his system to himself by any kind of patent or copyright;
and yet, if he made it fully public at once, he would lose any legitimate
hold over it to which he is rightly entitled. He has submitted his plan to
certain government departments, but has found that it is "nobody's
business" to take up a subject which is not included in any definite sphere
of duty. He has next endeavored to interest scientific societies in the
matter, so far as to induce them to urge the trial of his plan by the
government. He says: "I am willing to surrender my private rights in the
invention _pro bono publico_, on the simple condition that the costs
of so introducing the system may be undertaken at the public charge."
Teachers there must be, because "the publication of the theory of the
system and the scheme of symbols must necessarily be supplemented by oral
teaching of the scales of sound, in order that the invention may be applied
with uniformity." The reading of the paper gave rise to some discussion at
the Society of Arts, not as to the value and merit of the system itself,
but as to anything which the society can do in the matter. It is one rule
of the society that no new invention shall be brought forward without a
full explanation of the _modus operandi_ as well as of the leading
principles; and in this case, the objection lay that the inventor declined
to make public, unless under some government agreement, the actual secret
of his method. Mr. Bell replied that, if even he were to write a sentence
in view of the audience, it would add very little to their real knowledge
of the subject; but he furthermore said he was ready to explain the details
of the system to any committee whom the council of the society, or any
other scientific body, may appoint. To us it appears that neither Mr. Bell
nor the society is open to blame in the matter. He has the right to name
the conditions under which he will make his system public; while they have
the right to lay down rules for the governance of their own proceedings.
The results actually produced struck the auditors generally with surprise;
and there can be little doubt that the system will in some way or other, at
all events, work itself into public notice.
------
{422}
Comparative Mortality of Great Capitals.
Our recent alarm at the appearance and progress of the cholera in London
may have drawn the attention of many who had before been accustomed to pass
them by with indifference, to those columns in the papers in which the
reports of the Registrar-General on the state of the public health are from
time to time recorded. But we are perhaps hardly yet sufficiently awake to
the importance and interest of the statistics there contained, any more
than to the value of the short and, at first sight, rather unintelligible
tables which embody, day after day, the meteorological phenomenon collected
in London from so many different points on our own coast and those of
adjacent countries. These last statistics have an interest which does not
yet belong to those which relate to the public health, in that they embrace
reports from so many distinct places which can be compared together. We, of
course, only publish our own statistics of health, disease, births, and
deaths; and we have not yet seen our way to the information that might be
gathered by a comparison of our own condition in these respects with that
of others under similar circumstances. The interest and value of such a
comparison is obvious enough; and some of the results which might be hoped
from it, if it were systematically and scientifically made, may be guessed
at by the perusal of a thin volume of less than two hundred pages, lately
published in Paris by M. Vacher, [Footnote 136] which at first sight may
seem not to promise very much except to professional readers, but from
which we shall take the liberty of drawing a few facts which certainly seem
worthy of the attention of the more general public.
[Footnote 136: Etude Médicale et Statistique sur la Mortalité à Paris,
à Londres, à Vienne et à New-York en 1865. D'aprés les Documens
officiels, avec une Carte Météorologique et Mortuaire. Par le docteur
L. Vacher. Paris: F. Savy, 1866.]
Canning once said, in answer to some one who alleged "a well-known fact"
against him, that there was but one thing more fallacious than a fact, and
that was a figure. We must all be ready to allow that the results which we
see embodied so neatly in a set of figures in statistical tables are, after
all, but approaches to the truth; and they are not put forward as anything
more. Still, there is often a wonderful accuracy about the average results
given by statistical inquiries; and it is obvious that when the result of
one calculation is confirmed by that of another independent of the former,
or when one uniform result is given by a continued series of inquiries, or
when there is a very decided preponderance on one side of a comparison,
such as cannot be accounted for by chance, it would be absurd to refuse to
assent to conclusions thus obtained. With this single preliminary remark,
let us proceed to some of the facts collected for us by M. Vacher.
He begins by giving due credit to this country for having taken the lead in
the publication of the kind of statistics with which he has to deal. The
reports of the Registrar-General are all that he can desire. New York and
Vienna have followed, more or less fully, the example set in London. It has
also been copied in St. Petersburg, as far as the registration of deaths is
concerned; and it is hoped that a weekly publication of the results will
soon be made in that city. Paris joined the movement at the end of 1864 or
the beginning of 1865.
{423}
There is, however, some difference of system. The chief point is, that in
England the medical man who attends a sick person reports the cause of
death; in Paris there are certain official physicians, _vérificateurs des
décès_, and these, instead of the attending physician, assign the cause.
The superiority of the English system seems to be acknowledged. M. Vacher's
book is founded on the reports thus produced.
His first business is, of course, to settle approximately the population of
the four capitals with whose statistics he deals--a matter of considerable
difficulty, even with all the results of the census before him. He
calculates the number of the inhabitants of Paris in 1865 at 1,863,000;
those of London were 3,028,600; those of Vienna, 560,000; and those of New
York, 1,025,000, (in 1864.) At the present rate of increase, Paris will
double its population in 32 years, London in 40, Vienna in 44, and New York
in 13½. On the other hand, this increase is not to be set down to the
excess of births over deaths, which in London, in 20 years before 1861, was
only 328,189--about a third of the actual increase, (35 per cent.) In a
similar period, the births exceed the deaths in Paris by only 13 (and a
fraction) per cent of the whole increase. Immigration has therefore the
largest share in the increase of the population. A flow is continually
setting in from the country to the town in the age in which we live, and it
enriches the largest towns, and the capitals especially. New York,
receiving annually so many immigrants from Europe, is, of course, beyond
the others in its gains from this source. Paris has undergone great
vicissitudes as to the number of its inhabitants. In 1762, the population
seems to have been about 600,000. It fell off immensely during the
Revolution; even in 1800 it was only 547,756. From 1790 to 1810 the number
of deaths exceeded the number of births. Since that time the proportion has
been reversed, except in years of great epidemics.
Of the four capitals with which M. Vacher deals, Vienna, the smallest, had
the largest proportion of deaths in 1865. In Vienna the proportion was 1 to
31 of the inhabitants; in Paris, notwithstanding the ravages of the cholera
in October--causing 6591 deaths (nearly an eighth of the whole)--it was 1
to 36; in New York, 1 to 40; in London, 1 to 41. In Paris, London, and New
York, the death rate has diminished in its proportion to the population for
some time past. In Paris, in the three decades of years from 1830 to 1860,
it fell successively from 1 to 31, to 1 to 34, and then to 1 to 38. There
has been the same improvement in the other two cities. In New York, fifteen
years ago, the rate of deaths was 1 to 22--nearly twice as high as at
present. We do not see any statement in M. Vacher's pages as to the case of
Vienna. He attributes the improvement in Paris to some extent to the great
public works and measures for securing the health of the population which
have marked the second empire; but much more, it would seem, to the better
management of the hospitals. In Paris and Vienna a much larger proportion
of the inhabitants die in hospitals than in New York and London; and, as
far as we are concerned, M. Vacher includes workhouses and asylums of all
kinds under the general name of hospitals. He finds, on comparing some
scanty statistics of the last century with the facts of the present, that
in old times the number of deaths in hospitals was far greater in
proportion to the cases admitted than now; and he thinks that, in Paris at
least, this almost explains the improvement in the death-rate. In New York
the same improvement may have had many causes, but it is remarkably
coincident as to time with the magnificent changes made, at an immense
cost, in the water supply of that city. From some meteorological tables
compiled with great care by M. Vacher, we gather the rather surprising
result that the variations of temperature during the year, which have
considerable influence on the death-rate, are greatest at Vienna, (nearly
27°,) next at New York, (25°,) much lower in Paris (17°,) and lowest of all
in London, (15°.)
{424}
One of the most interesting questions at the present time on this subject
is that of the water supply. M. Vacher begins with a cordial tribute to the
Romans on this head. The magnificent aqueducts by which the city of Rome
was supplied date from the time of the early republic, though the emperors
increased their number. At an early point of their history, therefore, the
Romans were wise and liberal enough to dispense with the waters of the
Tiber for drinking. They carried their system everywhere when they became
the masters of the world; in France, in Spain, and in Italy many aqueducts
can still be traced which were their work. We may be quite certain that if
Britain were now a Roman province, the Thames water companies would never
be allowed to supply water except for the streets, and great aqueducts
would long since have brought us the pure water of Bala Lake or Windermere.
Thanks to the popes, modern Rome though not so profusely supplied as in
imperial times, is still very far in advance of all other cities in the
world in this respect. [Footnote 137] M. Vacher reckons the water supply in
ancient Rome as 1492 _litres_ a day for each inhabitant; in modern
Rome it is 1040; in New York, 159; in Vienna. 134; [Footnote 138] in Paris,
according to the new system, 109; in London, 132. But no city seems to have
its _houses_ so well supplied as London; in Rome a great quantity of
water is wasted, being left to run away from the fountains, while the
houses are not conveniently provided with water. We suppose that our old
friend the house-cistern, against which we have heard so many complaints
lately, is not an essential feature in our system of house supply.
[Footnote 137: M. Vacher attributes the salubrity of Rome--for,
considering its position, it enjoys remarkable salubrity--to the
abundance and good quality of its water. Lancisi, who practiced there
as a physician in the last century, accounts for the longevity of its
inhabitants in the same way. At all events, remarks M. Vacher, "il est
impossible de n'étre pas frappé de ce fait, que les historiens ne
mentionnent pas un seul example de peste à Rome, et qu'au moyen age et
dans les temps modernes elle a constainment échappé aux atteintes de la
pests et du choléra, qui ont sévi à plusteurs reprises en Italie." But
Rome has certainly been visited by the cholera more than once, and the
rest of the statement is surely contrary to history.]
[Footnote 138: This statement is, however, an anticipation. The
municipality of the Vienna has undertaken some immense works in order
to improve the water supply, at a cost of 16,000,000 florins. The works
are not yet completed: but M. Vacher gives the quantity of water for
each inhabitant which they are expected to furnish. Hitherto the city
has been supplied, it would seem, partly from the Danube, partly by
wells. The new supply will be drawn from three different sources among
the neighboring mountains.]
M. Vacher gives the following conclusions as to the sanitary effect of good
and abundant water. He tells us that inorganic substances contained in
water are comparatively innocuous to the health of those who drink it; on
the other hand, great injury is caused by the presence of organic matter.
The best water in Paris--that of the springs on the north--contains nine
times as much of calcareous salts as the water of the Seine; but it is
justly preferred for drinking purposes. On the other hand, M. Vacher quotes
the testimony of M. Bouchut, a professor at the Ecole de Médecine, for the
fact that he noticed the frequency of epidemic diarrhoea during the summer
months in the Quartier de Sèvres and that it had been almost stopped in
cases where the doctors had ordered the water of the Seine to be no longer
used, and had substituted for it water from the artesian well of Grenelle.
He adds his own experience at the Lycée Napoleon, which is supplied from
the reservoir of the Pantheon, which receives its water from the Seine and
the aqueduct d' Arcueil. He had known as many as fifteen students at once
ill of diarrhoea, and the disease was stopped by the "alcoholization of all
the water." [Footnote 139]
[Footnote 139: P, 106. M. Vacher here cites the Indian case quoted by
Mr. Farre in is cholera report. The natives in India drink boiled water
as a preventative against cholera; and it has been found that out of a
great number in the family of a single proprietor in Calcutta, all of
whom took this precaution, not a single person had been attacked even
in the worst times of the prevalence of cholera. But Dr. Frank has
disapproved at least the universality of this fact.]