CHAPTER XXVI

GREAT BEGINNINGS OF MODERN COMMERCE. 415

This is the most interesting phase for our generation. Hanseatic

League and obscurity of its origin. League of Lombard cities and

effect of crusades. Importance of Hansa. Enforcement of its decrees.

Confederation of cities from England to Central Russia. Surprising

greatness of the cities. Beginnings of international law. Commerce and

peace. Origins of coast regulation. Fraternal initiations and their

equivalents in the aftertime. Origins in hazing. Commerce and liberty.

Fostering of democracy. International comity.

APPENDIX I

So-called history. 430

APPENDIX II

TWENTY-SIX CHAPTERS THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 432

I. America in the Thirteenth Century--Papal documents.

II. A representative upper house.

III. The parish, and training in citizenship.

IV. The chance to rise.

V. Insurance--fire, marine, robbery, against injustice.

VI. Old age pensions, disability wages.

VII. Ways and means of charity--organized charity.

VIII. Scientific universities, investigation, writing.

IX. Medical education and high professional status.

X. Magnetism--first perpetual motion inventor--the North Pole.

XI. Biological theories--evolution, recapitulation.

XII. The Pope of the century--Innocent III.

XIII. International arbitration.

XIV. Bible revision.

XV. Fiction of the century.

XVI. Great orators.

XVII. Great beginnings of English literature.

XVIII. Origins of music.

XIX. Refinement and table manners.

XX. Textiles, satins, brocades, laces, needlework.

XXI. Glass-making.

XXII. Inventions.

XXIII. Industry and trade.

XXIV. Fairs and markets.

XXV. Intensive farming.

XXVI. Cartography and the teaching of geography--Hereford Map of the World.

APPENDIX III

CRITICISMS, COMMENTS, DOCUMENTS. 464

Human progress. The century of origins. Education. Technical education

of the masses. How it all stopped. Comfort and poverty. Comfort and

happiness. Comfort and health. Hygiene. Wages and the condition of

working people. Interest and loans. The eighteenth lowest of

centuries.

{xxvi}

{xxvii}

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

1. Le Beau Dieu (Amiens)--Frontispiece (ii)

2. Virgin with the Divine Child (Mosaic, St. Mark's, Venice)--Opposite page 5

3. Pulpit (N. Pisano, Siena)--Opposite page 8

4. Archangel Michael (Giovanni Pisano, Pisa)--Opposite page 13

5. Christ (Andrea Pisano, Florence)--Opposite page 13

6. Sta. Reparata (Andrea Pisano, Florence)--Opposite page 13

7. Paschal Candlestick (Baptistery, Florence)--Opposite page 15

8. Reliquary (Cathedral Orvieto, Ugolino di Vieri)--Opposite page 15

9. The Church in Symbol (Paris)--On page 17

10. Adoration of Magi (Pulpit, Siena, Nic. Pisano)--Opposite page 22

11. Cathedral (Lincoln)--Opposite page 28

12. Cathedral (York)--Opposite page 28

13. Cloister of St. John Lateran (Rome)--Opposite page 32

14. Jacques Coeur's House (Bourges)--On page 32

15. Rathhaus (Tangermuende)--Opposite page 42

16. Cathedral (Hereford)--Opposite page 44

17. Cathedral (York, East)--Opposite page 44

18. Single Flying Buttress--On page 57

19. Christ Driving Out Money Changers (Giotto)--Opposite page 64

20. Bride from Marriage of Cana (Giotto)--Opposite page 64

21. Head (Mosaic, St. Mark's, Venice)--Opposite page 64

22. Head of Blessed Virgin Annunciation--Opposite page 64

23. Petrarch Portraits by Benozzo Gozzoli--Opposite page 71

24. Dante Portraits by Benozzo Gozzoli--Opposite page 71

25. Giotto Portraits by Benozzo Gozzoli--Opposite page 71

26. Screen (Hereford)--Opposite page 87

27. Doorway of Sacristy (Bourges)--Opposite page 87

28. Double Flying Buttress--On page 95

29. Angel Choir (Lincoln)--Opposite page 96

30. Cathedral (Amiens)--Opposite page 105

31. Cathedral (Rheims)--Opposite page 107

32. Cloister of St. Paul's (without the walls, Rome)--Opposite page 112

33. Cathedral (Bourges)--Opposite page 116

34. Cathedral (Chartres)--Opposite page 116

35. Durham Castle and Cathedral--Opposite page 120

36. King John's Castle (Limerick)--Opposite page 120

37. Giotto's Tower (Florence)--Opposite page 122

38. Palazzo Vecchio (Florence) Campanile (Giotto)--Opposite page 122

{xxviii}

39. Fountain (Perugia) [Town Pump]--Opposite page 126

40. Lavatoio (Todi) [Public Wash-House]--Opposite page 126

41. Reliquary (Limoges Museo, Florence)--Opposite page 133

42. Crucifix (Duomo, Siena)--Opposite page 133

43. Madonna, Cimabue (Rucellai Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence)--

Opposite page 136

44. St. Francis' Marriage with Poverty (Giotto, Assisi)--Opposite page 144

45. Espousal of St. Catherine (Gaddi, XIII. Century pupil, Perugia)--

Opposite page 147

46. Group from Visitation (Rheims)--On page 148

47. Monument of Cardinal de Bray (Arnolfo)--Opposite page 156

48. Decoration (XIII. Cent. Psalter MSS.)--On page 165

49. Santa Maria Sopra Minerva (Rome's Gothic Cathedral)--Opposite page 168

50. Crozier (obverse and reverse)--On page 181

51. Tower of Scaligers--On page 193

52. St. Francis Prophesies the Death of Celano

(Giotto, Upper Ch., Assisi)--Opposite page 197

53. Virgin and Child (Pisa, Campo Santo, Giov. Pisano)--Opposite page 200

54. Entombment of Blessed Virgin--On page 208

55. St. Christopher (alto relievo, Venice)--Opposite page 214

56. Madonna and Child (Giov. Pisano, Padua)--Opposite page 214

57. Tower (Lincoln)--On page 220

58. Porta Romana Gate, Florence (N. Pisano)--Opposite page 226

59. Ponte Alle Grazie (Lapo)--Opposite page 226

60. Church and Cloisters, San Antonio (Padua)--Opposite page 232

61. St. Catherine's (Luebeck)--Opposite page 232

62. Stone Carving (Paris)--On page 237

63. The First Nativity Play (Giotto, Upper Church of Assisi)--Opposite page 240

64. Palazzo Buondelmonti (Florence)--Opposite page 248

65. Palazzo Tolomei (Siena)--Opposite page 248

66. Capital (Lincoln)--On page 253

67. The Glorification of St. Francis (Giotto, Lower Church of Assisi)--

Opposite page 256

68. St. Francis (Church of the Frari, Venice, Nic. Pisano)--Opposite page 261

69. St. Clare--Three Franciscans (Giotto)--Opposite page 264

70. St. Louis--Three Franciscans (Giotto)--Opposite page 264

71. St. Elizabeth--Three Franciscans (Giotto)--Opposite page 264

72. Side Capital (Lincoln)--On page 269

73. Notre Dame (Paris)--Opposite page 290

74. La Sainte Chapelle (Paris)--Opposite page 294 [missing]

75. Cathedral (Orvieto)--Opposite page 294 [missing]

{xxix}

76. Apostle (la Sainte Chapelle, Paris)--Opposite page 296

77. Decoration (Queen Mary's Psalter, XIII. Century MS.)--On page 299

78. Portrait of Dante (Giotto, in the Bargello, Florence)--Opposite page 300

79. Torre del Fame (Dante, Pisa)--Opposite page 306

80. Palazzo Pretorio (Todi)--Opposite page 306

81. Angel (Rheims)--On page 318

82. St. Clare Bids the Dead St. Francis Good-bye

(Giotto, Up. Ch. Assisi)--Opposite page 320

83. Church (Doberan, Germany)--Opposite page 322

84. San Damiano (Assisi)--Opposite page 322

85. St. Elizabeth's Cathedral (Marburg)--Opposite page 325

86. Marriage of the Blessed Virgin (Giotto, Padua)--Opposite page 328

87. Mosaic (St. Mark's, Venice, 1220)--Opposite page 333

88. Stone Carving (Amiens)--On page 336

89. Hospital of the Holy Ghost (Luebeck)--Opposite page 341

90. Charity (Giotto)--Opposite page 347

91. Fortitude (Giotto)--Opposite page 347

92. Hope (Giotto)--Opposite page 347

93. Hospital Interior--On page 349

94. Tower (Marburg)--On page 363

95. City Gate (Neubrandenburg)--Opposite page 368

96. Rathhaus (Stralsund)--Opposite page 368

97. Portrait of Pope Boniface VIII. (Giotto, Rome)--Opposite page 372

98. Decoration (XIII. Cent. Psalter)--On page 374

99. Doorway (Lincoln)--Opposite page 381

100. Nave (Durham)--Opposite page 381

101. Broken Arch (St. Mary's, York, Climax of Gothic)--Opposite page 381

102. Animals from Bestiarium (XIII. Cent. MS.)--On page 391

103. Door of Giotto's Tower (Florence)--Opposite page 405

104. Principal Door of Baptistery (Pisa)--Opposite page 405

105. Palazzo dei Consoli (Gubbio)--Opposite page 417

106. Palazzo Zabarella (Padua)--Opposite page 417

107. Rathhaus (Luebeck)--Opposite page 422

108. City Gate (Neubrandenburg)--Opposite page 426

109. Minster (Chorin, Germany)--Opposite page 426

110. Hinge from Schlestadt--On page 429

111. Portion of Letter of Innocent III., Mentioning Greenland--On page 433

112. Double Pivoted Compass Needle--On page 441

113. Peregrinus' Compass--On page 442

114. Portion of MS. of Ormulum--On page 450

115. Key of Map of World (Hereford)--On page 461

116. Map of World (Hereford)--Opposite page 463

{xxx}

{1}

I

INTRODUCTION

THE THIRTEENTH, THE GREATEST OF CENTURIES

It cannot but seem a paradox to say that the Thirteenth was the

greatest of centuries. To most people the idea will appear at once so

preposterous that they may not even care to consider it. A certain

number, of course, will have their curiosity piqued by the thought

that anyone should evolve so curious a notion. Either of these

attitudes of mind will yield at once to a more properly receptive mood

if it is recalled that the Thirteenth is the century of the Gothic

cathedrals, of the foundation of the university, of the signing of

Magna Charta, and of the origin of representative government with

something like constitutional guarantees throughout the west of

Europe. The cathedrals represent a development in the arts that has

probably never been equaled either before or since. The university was

a definite creation of these generations that has lived and maintained

its usefulness practically in the same form in which it was then cast

for the seven centuries ever since. The foundation stones of modern

liberties are to be found in the documents which for the first time

declared the rights of man during this precious period.

A little consideration of the men who, at this period, lived lives of

undying influence on mankind, will still further attract the attention

of those who have not usually grouped these great characters together.

Just before the century opened, three great rulers died at the height

of their influence. They are still and will always be the subject of

men's thoughts and of literature. They were Frederick Barbarossa,

Saladin, and Richard Coeur De Lion. They formed but a suggestive

prelude of what was to come in the following century, when such {2}

great monarchs as St. Louis of France, St. Ferdinand of Spain, Alfonso

the Wise of Castile, Frederick II of Germany, Edward I, the English

Justinian, Rudolph of Hapsburg, whose descendants still rule in

Austria, and Robert Bruce, occupied the thrones of Europe. Was it by

chance or Providence that the same century saw the rise of and the

beginning of the fall of that great Eastern monarchy which had been

created by the genius for conquest of Jenghiz Khan, the Tartar warrior,

who ruled over all the Eastern world from beyond what are now the

western confines of Russia, Poland, and Hungary, into and including

what we now call China.

But the thrones of Europe and of Asia did not monopolize the great men

of the time. The Thirteenth Century claims such wonderful churchmen as

St. Francis and St. Dominic, and while it has only the influence of

St. Hugh of Lincoln, who died just as it began, it can be proud of St.

Edmund of Canterbury, Stephen Langton, and Robert Grosseteste, all men

whose place in history is due to what they did for their people, and

such magnificent women as Queen Blanche of Castile, St. Clare of

Assisi, and St. Elizabeth of Hungary. The century opened with one of

the greatest of the Popes on the throne, Innocent III, and it closed

with the most misunderstood of Popes, who is in spite of this one of

the worthiest successors of Peter, Boniface VIII. During the century

there had been such men as Honorius IV, the Patron of Learning,

Gregory IX, to whom Canon Law owes so much, and John XXI, who had been

famous as a scientist before becoming Pope. There are such scholars as

St. Thomas of Aquin, Albertus Magnus, Roger Bacon, St. Bonaventure,

Duns Scotus, Raymond Lully, Vincent of Beauvais, and Alexander of

Hales, and such patrons of learning as Robert of Sorbonne, and the

founders of nearly twenty universities. There were such artists as

Gaddi, Cimabue, and above all Giotto, and such literary men as the

authors of the Arthur Legends and the Nibelungen, the Meistersingers,

the Minnesingers, the Troubadours, and Trouveres, and above all Dante,

who is universally considered now to be one of the greatest literary

men of all times, but who was not, as is so often thought and said, a

solitary phenomenon in the period, but only the culmination of a great

literary movement that had to have {3} some such supreme expression of

itself as this in order to properly round out the cycle of its

existence.

If in addition it be said that this century saw the birth of the

democratic spirit in many different ways in the various countries of

Europe, but always in such form that it was never quite to die out

again, the reasons for talking of it as possibly the greatest of

centuries will be readily appreciated even by those whose reading has

not given them any preliminary basis of information with regard to

this period, which has unfortunately been shrouded from the eyes of

most people by the fact, that its place in the midst of the Middle

Ages would seem to preclude all possibility of the idea that it could

represent a great phase of the development of the human intellect and

its esthetic possibilities.

There would seem to be one more or less insuperable objection to the

consideration of the Thirteenth as the greatest of centuries, and that

arises from the fact that the idea of evolution has consciously and

unconsciously tinged the thoughts of our generation to such a degree,

that it seems almost impossible to think of a period so far in the

distant past as having produced results comparable with those that

naturally flow from the heightened development of a long subsequent

epoch. Whatever of truth there may be in the great theory of

evolution, however, it must not be forgotten that no added evidence

for its acceptance can be obtained from the intellectual history of

the human race. We may be "the heirs of all the ages in the foremost

files of time," but one thing is certain, that we can scarcely hope to

equal, and do not at all think of surpassing, some of the great

literary achievements of long past ages.

In the things of the spirit apparently there is very little, if any,

evolution. Homer wrote nearly three thousand years ago as supreme an

expression of human life in absolute literary values as the world has

ever known, or, with all reverence for the future be it said, is ever

likely to know. The great dramatic poem Job emanated from a Hebrew

poet in those earlier times, and yet, if judged from the standpoint of

mere literature, is as surpassing an expression of human intelligence

in the presence of the mystery of evil as has ever come from the mind

of man. We are no nearer the solution of the problem of {4} evil in

life, though thousands of years have passed and man has been much

occupied with the thoughts that disturbed the mind of the ruler of

Moab. The Code of Hammurabi, recently discovered, has shown very

definitely, that men could make laws nearly five thousand years ago as

well calculated to correct human abuses as those our legislators spend

so much time over at present, and the olden time laws were probably

quite as effective as ours can hope to be, for all our well

intentioned purpose and praiseworthy efforts at reform.

It used to be a favorite expression of Virchow, the great German

pathologist, who was, besides, however, the greatest of living

anthropologists, that from the history of the human race the theory of

evolution receives no confirmation of any kind. His favorite subject,

the study of skulls, and their conformation in the five thousand years

through which such remains could be traced, showed him absolutely no

change. For him there had been also no development in the intellectual

order in human life during the long period of human history. Of course

this is comparatively brief if the long aeons of geological times be

considered, yet some development might be expected to manifest itself

in the more than two hundred generations that have come and gone since

the beginning of human memory. Perhaps, then, the prejudice with

regard to evolution and its supposed effectiveness in making the men

of more recent times superior to those of the past, may be considered

to have very little weight as an _a priori_ objection to the

consideration of the Thirteenth Century as representing the highest

stage in human accomplishment. So far as scientific anthropology goes

there is utter indifference as to the period that may be selected as

representing man at his best.

To most people the greater portion of surprise with regard to the

assertion of the Thirteenth as the greatest of centuries will be the

fact that the period thus picked out is almost in the heart of the

Middle Ages. It would be not so amazing if the fifth century before

Christ, which produced such marvelous accomplishments in letters and

art and philosophy among the Greeks, was chosen as the greatest of

human epochs. There might not even be so much of unpreparedness of

mind if that supreme century of Roman History, from fifty years before

Christ to fifty years after, were picked out for such signal notice.

[Illustration]

VIRGIN WITH THE DIVINE CHILD (MOSAIC, ST. MARK'S, VENICE)

{5}

We have grown accustomed, however, to think of the Middle Ages as

hopelessly backward in the opportunities they afforded men for the

expression of their intellectual and artistic faculties, and above all

for any development of that human liberty which means so much for the

happiness of the race and must constitute the basis of any real

advance worth while talking about in human affairs. It is this that

would make the Thirteenth Century seem out of place in any comparative

study for the purpose of determining proportionate epochal greatness.

The spirit breathes where it will, however, and there was a mighty

wind of the spirit of human progress abroad in that Thirteenth

Century, whose effects usually miss proper recognition in history,

because people fail to group together in their minds all the

influences in our modern life that come to us from that precious

period. All this present volume pretends to do is to gather these

scattered details of influence in order to make the age in which they

all coincided so wonderfully, be properly appreciated.

If we accept the usual historical division which places the Middle

Ages during the thousand years between the fall of the Roman Empire,

in the Fifth Century and the fall of the Grecian Empire of

Constantinople, about the middle of the Fifteenth, the Thirteenth

Century must be considered the culmination of that middle age. It is

three centuries before the Renaissance, and to most minds that magical

word represents the beginning of all that is modern, and therefore all

that is best, in the world. Most people forget entirely how much of

progress had been made before the so-called Renaissance, and how many

great writers and artists had been fostering the taste and developing

the intelligence of the people of Italy long before the fall of

Constantinople. The Renaissance, after all, means only the re-birth of

Greek ideas and ideals, of Greek letters and arts, into the modern

world. If this new birth of Greek esthetics had not found the soil

thoroughly prepared by the fruitful labor of three centuries before,

history would not have seen any such outburst of artistic and literary

accomplishments as actually came at the end of the Fifteenth and

during the Sixteenth centuries.

{6}

In taking up the thesis, The Thirteenth the Greatest of Centuries, it

seems absolutely necessary to define just what is meant by the term

great, in its application to a period. An historical epoch, most

people would concede at once, is really great just in proportion to

the happiness which it provides for the largest possible number of

humanity. That period is greatest that has done most to make men

happy. Happiness consists in the opportunity to express whatever is

best in us, and above all to find utterance for whatever is

individual. An essential element in it is the opportunity to develop

and apply the intellectual faculties, whether this be of purely

artistic or of thoroughly practical character. For such happiness the

opportunity to rise above one's original station is one of the

necessary requisites. Out of these opportunities there comes such

contentment as is possible to man in the imperfect existence that is

his under present conditions.

Almost as important a quality in any epoch that is to be considered

supremely great, is the difference between the condition of men at the

beginning of it and at its conclusion. The period that represents most

progress, even though at the end uplift should not have reached a

degree equal to subsequent periods, must be considered as having best

accomplished its duty to the race. For purposes of comparison it is

the amount of ground actually covered in a definite time, rather than

the comparative position at the end of it, that deserves to be taken

into account. This would seem to be a sort of hedging, as if the terms

of the comparison of the Thirteenth with other centuries were to be

made more favorable by the establishment of different standards. There

is, however, no need of any such makeshift in order to establish the

actual supremacy of the Thirteenth Century, since it can well afford

to be estimated on its own merits alone, and without any allowances

because of the stage of cultural development at which it occurred.

John Ruskin once said that a proper estimation of the accomplishments

of a period in human history can only be obtained by careful study of

three books--The Book of the Deeds, The Book of the Arts, and the Book

of the Words, of the given epoch. The Thirteenth Century may be

promptly ready for this judgment of what it accomplished for men, of

{7} what it wrote for subsequent generations, and of the artistic

qualities to be found in its art remains. In the Book of the Deeds of

the century what is especially important is what was accomplished for

men, that is, what the period did for the education of the people, not

alone the classes but the masses, and what a precious heritage of

liberty and of social coordination it left behind. To most people it

will appear at once that if the most important chapter of Thirteenth

Century accomplishment is to be found in the Book of its Deeds and the

deeds are to be judged according to the standard just given of

education and liberty, then there will be no need to seek further,

since these are words for which it is supposed that there is no actual

equivalent in human life and history for at least several centuries

after the close of the Thirteenth.

As a matter of fact, however, it is in this very chapter that the

Thirteenth Century will be found strongest in its claim to true

greatness. The Thirteenth Century saw the foundation of the

universities and their gradual development into the institutions of

learning which we have at the present time. Those scholars of the

Thirteenth Century recognized that, for its own development and for

practical purposes, the human intellect can best be trained along

certain lines. For its preliminary training, it seemed to them to need

what has since come to be called the liberal arts, that is, a

knowledge of certain languages and of logic, as well as a thorough

consideration of the great problems of the relation of man to his

Creator, to his fellow-men, and to the universe around him. Grammar, a

much wider subject than we now include under the term, and philosophy

constituted the undergraduate studies of the universities of the

Thirteenth Century. For the practical purposes of life, a division of

post-graduate study had to be made so as to suit the life design of

each individual, and accordingly the faculties of theology, for the

training of divines; of medicine, for the training of physicians; and

of law, for the training of advocates, came into existence.

We shall consider this subject in more detail in a subsequent chapter,

but it will be clear at once that the university, as organized by

these wise generations of the Thirteenth Century, has come down

unchanged to us in the modern time. We {8} still have practically the

same methods of preliminary training and the same division of

post-graduate studies. We specialize to a greater degree than they

did, but it must not be forgotten that specialism was not unknown by

any means in the Thirteenth Century, though there were fewer

opportunities for its practical application to the things of life. If

this century had done nothing else but create the instrument by which

the human mind has ever since been trained, it must be considered as

deserving a place of the very highest rank in the periods of human

history.

It is, however, much more for what it accomplished for the education

of the masses than for the institutions it succeeded in developing for

the training of the classes, that the Thirteenth Century merits a

place in the roll of fame. This declaration will doubtless seem

utterly paradoxical to the ordinary reader of history. We are very

prone to consider that it is only in our time that anything like

popular education has come into existence. As a matter of fact,

however, the education afforded to the people in the little towns of

the Middle Ages, represents an ideal of educational uplift for the

masses such as has never been even distantly approached in succeeding

centuries. The Thirteenth Century developed the greatest set of

technical schools that the world has ever known. The technical school

is supposed to be a creation of the last half century at the outside.

These medieval towns, however, during the course of the building of

their cathedrals, of their public buildings and various magnificent

edifices of royalty and for the nobility, succeeded in accomplishing

such artistic results that the world has ever since held them in

admiration, and that this admiration has increased rather than

diminished with the development of taste in very recent years.

Nearly every one of the most important towns of England during the

Thirteenth Century was erecting a cathedral. Altogether some twenty

cathedrals remain as the subject of loving veneration and of frequent

visitation for the modern generation. There was intense rivalry

between these various towns. Each tried to surpass the other in the

grandeur of its cathedral and auxiliary buildings. Instead of lending

workmen to one another there was a civic pride in accomplishing for

one's native town whatever was best.

[Illustration]

PULPIT (PISANO, SIENA)

{9}

Each of these towns, then, none of which had more than twenty thousand

inhabitants except London, and even that scarcely more, had to develop

its own artist-artisans for itself. That they succeeded in doing so

demonstrates a great educational influence at work in arts and crafts

in each of these towns. We scarcely succeed in obtaining such trained

workmen in proportionately much fewer numbers even with the aid of our

technical schools, and while these Thirteenth Century people did not

think of such a term, it is evident that they had the reality and that

they were able to develop artistic handicraftsmen--the best the world

has ever known.

With all this of education abroad in the lands, it is not surprising

that great results should have flowed from human efforts and that

these should prove enduring even down to our own time. Accomplishments

of the highest significance were necessarily bound up with

opportunities for self-expression, so tempting and so complete, as

those provided for the generations of the Thirteenth Century. The

books of the Words as well as of the Arts of the Thirteenth Century

will be found eminently interesting, and no period has ever furnished

so many examples of wondrous initiative, followed almost immediately

by just as marvelous progress and eventual approach to as near

perfection as it is perhaps possible to come in things human.

Ordinarily literary origins are not known with sufficient certainty as

to dates for any but the professional scholar to realize the scope of

the century's literature. Only a very little consideration, however,

is needed to demonstrate how thoroughly representative of what is most

enduring in literary expression in modern times, are the works in

every country that had origin in this century.

There was not a single country in civilized Europe which did not

contribute its quota and that of great significance to the literary

movement of the time. In Spain there came the Cid and certain

accompanying products of ballad poetry which form the basis of the

national literature and are still read not only by scholars and

amateurs, but even by the people generally, because of the supreme

human interest in them. In England, the beginning of the Thirteenth

Century saw the putting {10} into shape of the Arthur Legends in the

form in which they were to appeal most nearly to subsequent

generations. Walter Map's work in these was, as we shall see, one of

the great literary accomplishments of all time. Subsequent treatments

of the same subject are only slight modifications of the theme which

he elaborated, and Mallory's and Spenser's and even our own Tennyson's

work derive their interest from the humanly sympathetic story, written

so close to the heart of nature in the Thirteenth Century that it will

always prove attractive.

In Germany, just at the same time, the Nibelungen-Lied was receiving

the form in which it was to live as the great National epic. The

Meistersingers also were accomplishing their supreme work of

Christianizing and modernizing the old German and Christian legends

which were to prove such a precious heritage of interest for

posterity. In the South of Germany the Minnesingers sang their tuneful

strains and showed how possible it was to take the cruder language of

the North, and pour forth as melodious hymns of praise to nature and

to their beloved ones as in the more fluent Southern tongues. Most of

this was done in the old Suabian high German dialect, and the basis of

the modern German language was thus laid. The low German was to prove

the vehicle for the original form of the animal epic or stories with

regard to Reynard, the Fox, which were to prove so popular throughout

all of Europe for all time thereafter.

In North France the Trouveres were accomplishing a similar work to

that of the Minnesingers in South Germany, but doing it with an

original genius, a refinement of style characteristic of their nation,

and a finish of form that was to impress itself upon French literature

for all subsequent time. Here also Jean de Meun and Guillaume de

Lorris wrote the Romance of the Rose, which was to remain the most

popular book in Europe down to the age of printing and for some time

thereafter. At the South of France the work of the Troubadours,

similar to that of the Trouveres and yet with, a spirit and character

all its own, was creating a type of love songs that the world recurs

to with pleasure whenever the lyrical aspect of poetry becomes

fashionable. The influence of the Troubadours was to be felt in Italy,

and before the end of the {11} Thirteenth Century there were many

writers of short poems that deserve a place in what is best in

literature. Men like Sordello, Guido Cavalcanti, Cino da Pistoia, and

Dante da Maiano, deserve mention in any historical review of

literature, quite apart from the influence which they had on their

great successor, the Prince of Italian poets and one of the immortal

trio of the world's supreme creative singers--Dante Alighieri. With

what must have seemed the limit of conceit he placed himself among the

six greatest poets, but posterity breathes his name only with those of

Homer and Shakespeare.

Dante, in spite of his giant personality and sublime poetic genius, is

not an exception nor a solitary phenomenon in the course of the

century, but only a worthy culmination of the literary movement which,

beginning in the distant West in Spain and England, gradually worked

eastward quite contrary to the usual trend of human development and

inspired its greatest work in the musical Tuscan dialect after having

helped in the foundation of all the other modern languages. Dante is

the supreme type of the Thirteenth Century, the child of his age, but

the great master whom medieval influences have made all that he is.

That he belongs to the century there can be no doubt, and of himself

alone he would be quite sufficient to lift any period out of obscurity

and place it among the favorite epochs, in which the human mind found

one of those opportune moments for the expression of what is sublimest

in human thought.

It is, however, the bock of the Arts of the Thirteenth Century that

deserves most to be thumbed by the modern reader intent on learning

something of this marvelous period of human existence. There is not a

single branch of art in which the men of this generation did not

accomplish excelling things that have been favorite subjects for study

and loving imitation ever since. Perhaps the most marvelous quality of

the grand old Gothic cathedrals, erected during the Thirteenth

Century, is not their impressiveness as a whole so much as their

wonderful finish in detail. It matters not what element of

construction or decoration be taken into consideration, always there

is an approach to perfection in accomplishment in some one of the

cathedrals that shows with what thoroughness the men of the {12} time

comprehended what was best in art, and how finally their strivings

after perfection were rewarded as bountifully as perhaps it has ever

been given to men to realize.

Of the major arts--architecture itself, sculpture and painting--only a

word will be said here since they will be treated more fully in

subsequent chapters. No more perfect effort at worthy worship of the

Most High has ever been accomplished than is to be seen in the Gothic

cathedrals in every country in Europe as they exist to the present

day. While the movement began in North France, and gradually spread to

other countries, there was never any question of mere slavish

imitation, but on the contrary in each country Gothic architecture

took on a national character and developed into a charming expression

of the special characteristics of the people for whom and by whom it

was made. English Gothic is, of course, quite different to that of

France; Spanish Gothic has a character all its own; the German Gothic

cathedrals partake of the heavier characteristics of the Northern

people, while Italian Gothic adds certain airy decorative qualities to

the French model that give renewed interest and inevitably indicate

the origin of the structures.

In painting, Cimabue's work, so wonderfully appreciated by the people

of Florence that spontaneously they flocked in procession to do honor

to his great picture, was the beginning of modern art. How much was

accomplished before the end of the century will be best appreciated

when the name of Giotto is mentioned as the culmination of the art

movement of the century. As we shall see, the work done by him,

especially at Assisi, has been a source of inspiration for artists

down even to our own time, and there are certain qualities of his art,

especially his faculty for producing the feeling of solidity in his

paintings, in which very probably he has never been surpassed. Gothic

cathedrals in other countries did not lend themselves so well as

subjects of inspiration for decorative art, but in every country the

sacred books in use in the cathedral were adorned, at the command of

the artistic impulse of the period, in a way that has made the

illuminated missals and office books of the Thirteenth Century perhaps

the most precious that there are in the history of book-making.

{opp13}

[Illustration]

ARCHANGEL MICHAEL (GIOVANNI PISANO, PISA)

[Illustration]

CHRIST (ANDREA PISANO, FLORENCE)

[Illustration]

STA. REPARATA (ANDREA PISANO, FLORENCE)

{13}

It might be thought that in sculpture, at least, these

Thirteenth-Century generations would prove to be below the level of

that perfection and artistic expression which came so assuredly in

other lines. It is true that most of the sculptures of the period have

defects that make them unworthy of imitation, though it is in the

matter of technique that they fail rather than in honest effort to

express feelings appropriately within the domain of chiseled work. On

the other hand there are some supreme examples of what is best in

sculpture to be found among the adornments of the cathedrals of the

period. No more simply dignified rendition of the God Man has ever

been made in stone than the statue of Christ, which with such charming

appropriateness the people of Amiens have called _le Beau Dieu_, their

beautiful God, and that visitors to their great cathedral can never

admire sufficiently, admirably set off, as it is, in its beautiful

situation above the main door of the great cathedral. Other examples

are not lacking, as for instance some of the Thirteenth-Century

effigies of the French kings and queens at St. Denis, and some of the

wonderful sculptures at Rheims. In its place as a subsidiary art to

architecture for decorative purposes, sculpture was even more

eminently successful. The best example of this is the famous Angel

Choir of Lincoln, one of the most beautiful things that ever came from

the hand of man and whose designation indicates the belief of the

centuries that only the angels could have made it.

In the handicrafts most nearly allied to the arts, the Thirteenth

Century reigns supreme with a splendor unapproached by what has been

accomplished in any other century. The iron work of their gates and

railings, even of their hinges and latches and locks, has been admired

and imitated by many generations since. When a piece of it is no

longer of use, or loosens from the crumbling woodwork to which it was

attached, it is straightway transported to some museum, there to be

displayed not alone for its antiquarian interest, but also as a model

and a suggestion to the modern designer. This same thing is true of

the precious metal work of the times also, at least as regards the

utensils and ornaments employed in the sacred services. The chalices

and other sacred {14} vessels were made on severely simple lines and

according to models which have since become the types of such sacred

utensils for all times.

The vestments used in the sacred ceremonials partook of this same

character of eminently appropriate handiwork united to the chastest of

designs, executed with supreme taste. The famous cope of Ascoli which

the recent Pierpont Morgan incident brought into prominence a year or

so ago, is a sample of the needlework of the times that illustrates

its perfection. It is said by those who are authorities in the matter

that Thirteenth-Century needlework represents what is best in this

line. It is not the most elaborate, nor the most showy, but it is in

accordance with the best taste, supremely suitable to the objects of

which it formed a part. It is, after all, only an almost inevitable

appendix to the beautiful work done in the illumination of the sacred

books, that the sacred vestments should have been quite as supremely

artistic and just as much triumphs of art.

As a matter of fact, every minutest detail of cathedral construction

and ornamentation shared in this artistic triumph. Even the

inscriptions, done in brass upon the gravestones that formed part of

the cathedral pavements, are models of their kind, and rubbings from

them are frequently taken because of their marvelous effectiveness as

designs in Gothic tracery.

Their bells were made with such care and such perfection that, down to

the present time, nothing better has been accomplished in this

handicraft, and their marvelous retention of tone shows how thorough

was the work of these early bell-makers.

The triumph of artistic decoration in the cathedrals, however, and the

most marvelous page in the book of the Arts of the century, remains to

be spoken of in their magnificent stained-glass windows. Where they

learned their secret of glass-making we know not. Artists of the

modern time, who have spent years in trying to perfect their own work

in this line, would give anything to have some of the secrets of the

glass-makers of the Thirteenth Century. Such windows as the Five

Sisters at York, or the wonderful Jesse window of Chartres with some

of its companions, are the despair of the modern {15} artists in

stained glass. The fact that their glass-making was not done at one,

or even a few, common centers, but was apparently executed in each of

these small medieval towns that were the site of a cathedral, only

adds to the marvel of how the workmen of the time succeeded so well in

accomplishing their purpose of solving the difficult problems of

stained glasswork.

{opp15}

[Illustration ]

PASCHAL CANDLESTICK (BAPTISTERY, FLORENCE)

[Illustration:]

RELIQUARY (CATHEDRAL ORVIETO, UGOLINO DI VIERI)

If, to crown all that has been said about the Thirteenth Century, we

now add a brief account of what was accomplished for men in the matter

of liberty and the establishment of legal rights, we shall have a

reasonably adequate introduction to this great subject. Liberty is

thought to be a word whose true significance is of much more recent

origin than the end of the Middle Ages. The rights of men are usually

supposed to have received serious acknowledgment only in comparatively

recent centuries. The recalling of a few facts, however, will dispel

this illusion and show how these men of the later middle age laid the

foundation of most of the rights and privileges that we are so proud

to consider our birthright in this modern time. The first great fact

in the history of modern liberty is the signing of Magna Charta which

took place only a little after the middle of the first quarter of the

Thirteenth Century. The movement that led up to it had arisen amongst

the guildsmen as well as the churchmen and the nobles of the preceding

century. When the document was signed, however, these men did not

consider that their work was finished. They kept themselves ready to

take further advantage of the necessities of their rulers and it was

not long before they had secured political as well as legal rights.

Shortly after the middle of the Thirteenth Century the first English

parliament met, and in the latter part of that half century it became

a formal institution with regularly appointed times of meeting and

definite duties and privileges. Then began the era of law in its

modern sense for the English people. The English common law took form

and its great principles were enunciated practically in the terms in

which they are stated down to the present day. Bracton made his famous

digest of the English common law for the use of judges and lawyers and

it became a standard work of reference. Such it {16} has remained down

to our own time. At the end of the century, during the reign of Edward

I, the English Justinian, the laws of the land were formulated,

lacunae in legislation filled up, rights and privileges fully

determined, real-estate laws put on a modern basis, and the most

important portions of English law became realities that were to be

modified but not essentially changed in all the after time.

This history of liberty and of law-making, so familiar with regard to

England, must be repeated almost literally with regard to the

continental nations. In France, the foundation of the laws of the

kingdom were laid during the reign of Louis IX, and French authorities

in the history of law, point with pride, to how deeply and broadly the

foundations of French jurisprudence were laid. Under Louis's cousin,

Ferdinand III of Castile, who, like the French monarch, has received

the title of Saint, because of the uprightness of his character and

all that he did for his people, forgetful of himself, the foundations

of Spanish law were laid, and it is to that time that Spanish jurists

trace the origin of nearly all the rights and privileges of their

people. In Germany there is a corresponding story. In Saxony there was

the issue of a famous book of laws, which represented all the grants

of the sovereigns, and all the claims of subjects that had been

admitted by monarchs up to that time. In a word, everywhere there was

a codification of laws and a laying of foundations in jurisprudence,

upon which the modern superstructure of law was to rise.

This is probably the most surprising part of the Thirteenth Century.

When it began men below the rank of nobles were practically slaves.

Whatever rights they had were uncertain, liable to frequent violation

because of their indefinite character, and any generation might, under

the tyranny of some consciousless monarch, have lost even the few

privileges they had enjoyed before. At the close of the Thirteenth

Century this was no longer possible. The laws had been written down

and monarchs were bound by them as well as their subjects. Individual

caprice might no longer deprive them arbitrarily of their rights and

hard won privileges, though tyranny might still assert itself and a

submissive generation might, for a time, {17} allow themselves to be

governed by measures beyond the domain of legal justification. Any

subsequent generation might, however, begin anew its assertion of its

rights from the old-time laws, rather than from the position to which

their forbears had been reduced by a tyrant's whim.

Is it any wonder, then, that we should call the generations that gave

us the cathedrals, the universities, the great technical schools that

were organized by the trades guilds, the great national literatures

that lie at the basis of all our modern literature, the beginnings of

sculpture and of art carried to such heights that artistic principles

were revealed for all time, and, finally, the great men and women of

this century--for more than any other it glories in names that were

born not to die--is it at all surprising that we should claim for the

period which, in addition to all this, saw the foundation of modern

law and liberty, the right to be hailed--the greatest of human

history?

[Illustration]

THE CHURCH [SYMBOLIZED] (PARIS)

{18}

II

UNIVERSITIES AND PREPARATORY SCHOOLS.

To see, at once, how well the Thirteenth deserves the name of the

greatest of centuries, it is necessary, only, to open the book of her

deeds and read therein what was accomplished during this period for

the education of the men of the time. It is, after all, what a

generation accomplishes for intellectual development and social uplift

that must be counted as its greatest triumph. If life is larger in its

opportunities, if men appreciate its significance better, if the

development of the human mind has been rendered easier, if that

precious thing, whose name, education, has been so much abused, is

made readier of attainment, then the generation stamps itself as

having written down in its book of deeds, things worthy for all

subsequent generations to read. Though anything like proper

appreciation of it has come only in very recent times, there is

absolutely no period of equal length in the history of mankind in

which so much was not only attempted, but successfully accomplished

for education, in every sense of the word, as during the Thirteenth

Century. This included, not only the education of the classes but also

the education of the masses.

For the moment, we shall concern ourselves only with the education

offered to, and taken advantage of by so many, in the universities of

the time. It was just at the beginning of the Thirteenth Century that

the great universities came into being as schools, in which all the

ordinary forms of learning were taught. During the Twelfth Century,

Bologna had had a famous school of law which attracted students from

all over Europe. Under Irnerius, canon and civil law secured a

popularity as subjects of study such as they never had before. The

study of the old Roman Law brought back with it an interest in the

Latin classics, and the beginning of the true new birth--the real

renaissance--of modern education must be traced from here. At Paris

there was a theological school attached to {19} the cathedral which

gradually became noted for its devotion to philosophy as the basis of

theology, and, about the middle of the Twelfth Century, attracted

students from every part of the civilized world. As was the case at

Bologna, interest after a time was not limited to philosophy and

theology; other branches of study were admitted to the curriculum and

a university in the modern sense came into existence.

During the first quarter of the Thirteenth Century both of these

schools developed faculties for the teaching of all the known branches

of knowledge. At Bologna faculties of arts, of philosophy and

theology, and finally of medicine, were gradually added, and students

flocked in ever increasing numbers to take advantage of these

additional opportunities. At Paris, the school of medicine was

established early in the Thirteenth Century, and there were graduates

in medicine before the year 1220. Law came later, but was limited to

Canon law to a great extent, Orleans having a monopoly of civil law

for more than a century. These two universities, Bologna and Paris,

were, in every sense of the word, early in the century, real

universities, differing in no essential from our modern institutions

that bear the same name.

If the Thirteenth Century had done nothing else but put into shape

this great instrument for the training of the human mind, which has

maintained its effectiveness during seven centuries, it must be

accorded a place among the epoch-making periods of history. With all

our advances in modern education we have not found it necessary, or

even advisable, to change, in any essential way, this mold in which

the human intellect has been cast for all these years. If a man wants

knowledge for its own sake, or for some practical purpose in life,

then here are the faculties which will enable him to make a good

beginning on the road he wishes to travel. If he wants knowledge of

the liberal arts, or the consideration of man's duties to himself, to

his fellow-man and to his Creator, he will find in the faculties of

arts and philosophy and theology the great sources of knowledge in

these subjects. If, on the other hand, he wishes to apply his mind

either to the disputes of men about property, or to their injustices

toward one another and the correction of abuses, then the faculty of

law will {20} supply his wants, and finally the medical school enables

him, if he wishes, to learn all that can be known at a given time with

regard to man's ills and their healing. We have admitted the

practical-work subjects into university life, though not without

protest, but architecture, engineering, bridge-building and the like,

in which the men of the Thirteenth Century accomplished such wonders,

were relegated to the guilds whose technical schools, though they did

not call them by that name, were quite as effective practical

educators as even the most vaunted of our modern university mechanical

departments.

It is rather interesting to trace the course of the development of

schools in our modern sense of the term, because their evolution

recapitulates, to some degree at least, the history of the

individual's interest in life. The first school which acquired a

European reputation was that of Salernum, a little town not far from

Naples, which possessed a famous medical school as early as the ninth

century, perhaps earlier. This never became a university, though its

reputation as a great medical school was maintained for several

centuries. This first educational opportunity to attract a large body

of students from all over the world concerned mainly the needs of the

body. The next set of interests which man, in the course of evolution

develops, has to do with the acquisition and retention of property and

the maintenance of his rights as an individual. It is not surprising,

then, to find that the next school of world-wide reputation was that

of law at Bologna which became the nucleus of a great university. It

is only after man has looked out for his bodily needs and his property

rights, that he comes to think of his duties toward himself, his

fellow-men, and his Creator, and so the third of these great medieval

schools, in time, was that of philosophy and theology, at Paris.

It is sometimes thought that the word university applied to these

institutions after the aggregation of other faculties, was due to the

fact that there was a universality of studies, that all branches of

knowledge might be followed in them. The word university, however, was

not originally applied to the school itself, which, if it had all the

faculties of the modern university, was, in the Thirteenth Century,

called a _studium generale_. The Latin word universitas had quite a

different {21} usage at that time. Whenever letters were formally

addressed to the combined faculties of a _studium generale_ by

reigning sovereigns, or by the Pope, or by other high ecclesiastical

authorities, they always began with the designation, Universitas

Vestra, implying that the greeting was to all of the faculty,

universally and without exception. Gradually, because of this word

constantly occurring at the beginning of letters to the faculty, the

term universitas came to be applied to the institution. [Footnote 1]

[Footnote 1: Certain other terms that occur in these letters of

greeting to university officials have a more than passing interest.

The rector of the university, for instance, was always formally

addressed as Amplitudo Vestra, that is, Your Ampleness. Considering

the fact that not a few of the rectors of the old time universities,

all of whom were necessarily ecclesiastics, must have had the

ampleness of girth so characteristic of their order under certain

circumstances, there is an appropriateness about this formal

designation which perhaps appeals more to the risibilities of the

modern mind than to those of medieval time.]

While the universities, as is typically exemplified by the histories

of Bologna and Paris, and even to a noteworthy degree of Oxford, grew

up around the cathedrals, they cannot be considered in any sense the

deliberate creation, much less the formal invention, of any particular

set of men. The idea of a university was not born into the world in

full panoply as Minerva from the brain of Jove. No one set about

consciously organizing for the establishment of complete institutions

of learning. Like everything destined to mean much in the world the

universities were a natural growth from the favoring soil in which

living seeds were planted. They sprang from the wonderful inquiring

spirit of the time and the marvelous desire for knowledge and for the

higher intellectual life that came over the people of Europe during

the Thirteenth Century. The school at Paris became famous, and

attracted pupils during the Twelfth Century, because of the new-born

interest in scholastic philosophy. After the pupils had gathered in

large numbers their enthusiasm led to the establishment of further

courses of study. The same thing was true at Bologna, where the study

of Law first attracted a crowd of earnest students, and then the

demand for broader education led to the establishment of other

faculties.

{22}

Above all, there was no conscious attempt on the part of any supposed

better class to stoop down and uplift those presumably below it. As we

shall see, the students of the university came mainly from the middle

class of the population. They became ardently devoted to their

teachers. As in all really educational work, it was the man and not

the institution that counted for much. In case of disagreement of one

of these with the university authorities, not infrequently there was a

sacrifice of personal advantage for the moment on the part of the

students in order to follow a favorite teacher. Paris had examples of

this several times before the Thirteenth Century, and notably in the

case of Abelard had seen thousands of students follow him into the

distant desert where he had retired. Later on, when abuses on the part

of the authorities of Paris limited the University's privileges, led

to the withdrawal of students and the foundation of Oxford, there was

a community of interest on the part of certain members of the faculty

and thousands of students. This movement was, however, distinctly of a

popular character, in the sense that it was not guided by political or

other leaders. Nearly all of the features of university life during

the Thirteenth Century, emphasize the democracy of feeling of the

students, and make it clear that the blowing of the wind of the spirit

of human liberty and intellectual enthusiasm influencing the minds of

the generation, rather than any formal attempt on the part of any

class of men deliberately to provide educational opportunities, is the

underlying feature of university foundation and development.

While the great universities of Paris, Bologna, and Oxford were, by

far, the most important, they must not be considered as the only

educational institutions deserving the name of universities, even in

our modern sense, that took definite form during the Thirteenth

Century. In Italy, mainly under the fostering care of ecclesiastics,

encouraged by such Popes as Innocent III, Gregory IX, and Honorius IV,

nearly a dozen other towns and cities saw the rise of Studia Generalia

eventually destined, and that within a few decades after their

foundation, to have the complete set of faculties, and such a number

of teachers and of students as merited for them the name of

University.

{opp23}

[Illustration]

ADORATION OF MAGI (PULPIT, SIENA, NIC. PISANO).

{23}

Very early in the century Vicenza, Reggio, and Arezzo became

university towns. Before the first quarter of the century was finished

there were universities at Padua, at Naples, and at Vercelli. In spite

of the troublous times and the great reduction in the population of

Rome there was a university founded in connection with the Roman

Curia, that is the Papal Court, before the middle of the century, and

Siena and Piacenza had founded rival university institutions. Perugia

had a famous school which became a complete university early in the

Fourteenth Century.

Nor were other countries much behind Italy in this enthusiastic

movement. Montpelier had, for over a century before the beginning of

the thirteenth, rejoiced in a medical school which was the most

important rival of that at Salernum. At the beginning this reflected

largely the Moorish element in educational affairs in Europe at this

time. During the course of the Thirteenth Century Montpelier developed

into a full-fledged university though the medical school still

continued to be the most important faculty. Medical students from all

over the world flocked to the salubrious town to which patients from

all over were attracted, and its teachers and writers of medicine have

been famous in medical history ever since. How thorough was the

organization of clinical medical work at Montpelier may perhaps best

be appreciated from the fact, noted in the chapter on City

Hospitals--Organized Charity, that when Pope Innocent III. wished to

establish a model hospital at Rome with the idea that it would form an

exemplar for other European cities, he sent down to Montpelier and

summoned Guy, the head of the Hospital of the Holy Ghost in that city,

to the Papal Capital to establish the Roman Hospital of the Holy Ghost

and, in connection with it, a large number of hospitals all over

Europe.

A corresponding state of affairs to that of Montpelier is to be noted

at Orleans, only here the central school, around which the university

gradually grouped itself, was the Faculty of Civil Law. Canon law was

taught at Paris in connection with the theological course, but there

had always been objection to the admission of civil law as a faculty

on a basis of equality with the other faculties. There was indeed {24}

at this time some rivalry between the civil and the canon law and so

the study of civil law was relegated to other universities. Even early

in the Twelfth Century Orleans was famous for its school of civil law

in which the exposition of the principles of the old Roman law

constituted the basis of the university course. During the Thirteenth

Century the remaining departments of the university gradually

developed, so that by the close of the century, there seem to be

conservative claims for over one thousand students. Besides these

three, French universities were also established at Angers, at

Toulouse, and the beginnings of institutions to become universities

early in the next century are recorded at Avignon and Cahors.

Spain felt the impetus of the university movement early in the

Thirteenth Century and a university was founded at Palencia about the

end of the first decade. This was founded by Alfonso XII. and was

greatly encouraged by him. It is sometimes said that this university

was transferred to Salamanca about 1230, but this is denied by

Denifle, whose authority in matters of university history is

unquestionable. It seems not unlikely that Salamanca drew a number of

students from Palencia but that the latter continued still to attract

many students. About the middle of the Thirteenth Century the

university of Valladolid was founded. Before the end of the century a

fourth university, that of Lerida, had been established in the Spanish

peninsula. Spain was to see the greatest development of universities

during the Fourteenth Century. It was not long after the end of the

Thirteenth Century before Coimbra, in Portugal, began to assume

importance as an educational institution, though it was not to have

sufficient faculty and students to deserve the more ambitious title of

university for half a century.

While most people who know anything about the history of education

realize the important position occupied by the universities during the

Thirteenth Century and appreciate the estimation in which they were

held and the numbers that attended them, very few seem to know

anything of the preparatory schools of the time, and are prone to

think that all the educational effort of these generations was

exhausted in connection {25} with the university. It is often said, as

we shall see, that one reason for the large number of students

reported as in attendance at the universities during the Thirteenth

Century is to be found in the fact that these institutions practically

combined the preparatory school and the academy of our time with the

university. The universities are supposed to have been the only

centers of education worthy of mention. There is no doubt that a

number of quite young students were in attendance at the universities,

that is, boys from 12 to 15 who would in our time be only in the

preparatory school. We shall explain, however, in the chapter on the

Numbers in Attendance at the Universities that students went to

college much younger in the past and graduated much earlier than they

do in our day, yet apparently, without any injury to the efficacy of

their educational training.

In the universities of Southern Europe it is still the custom for boys

to graduate with the degree of A. B. at the age of 15 to 16, which

supposes attendance at the university, or its equivalent in

under-graduate courses, at the age of 12 or even less. There is no

need, however, to appeal to the precociousness of the southern nations

in explanation of this, since there are some good examples of it in

comparatively recent times here in America. Most of the colleges in

this country, in the early part of the nineteenth century and the end

of the eighteenth, graduated young men of 16 and 17 and thought that

they were accomplishing a good purpose, in allowing them to get at

their life work in early manhood. Many of the distinguished divines

who made names in educational work are famous for their early

graduations. Dr. Benjamin Rush, of Philadelphia, whom the medical

profession of this country hails as the Father of American Medicine,

graduated at Princeton at 15. He must have begun his college course,

therefore, about the age of 12. This may be considered inadvisable in

our generation, but, it must be remembered that there are many even in

our day, who think that our college men are allowed to get at their

life-work somewhat too late for their own good.

It must be emphasized, moreover, that in many of the university towns

there were also preparatory schools. Courses {26} were not regularly

organized until well on in the Thirteenth Century, but younger

brothers and friends of students as well as of professors would not

infrequently be placed under their care and thus be enabled to receive

their preparation for university work. At Paris, Robert Sorbonne

founded a preparatory school for that institution under the name of

the College of Calvi. Other colleges of this kind also existed in

Paris. This custom of having a preparatory school in association with

the university has not been abandoned even in our own day, and it has

some decided advantages from an educational standpoint, though perhaps

these are not enough to balance certain ethical disadvantages almost

sure to attach to such a system, disadvantages which ultimately led in

the Middle Ages to the prohibition that young students should be taken

at the universities under any pretext.

The presence of these young students in university towns probably did

add considerably to the numbers reported as in attendance. It must not

be thought, however, that there were no formal preparatory schools

quite apart from university influence. This thought has been the root

of more misunderstanding of the medieval system of education than

almost any other. As a matter of fact there were preliminary and

preparatory schools, what we would now call academies and colleges, in

connection with all of the important monasteries and with every

cathedral. Schools of less importance were required by a decree of a

council held at the beginning of the Thirteenth Century to be

maintained in connection with every bishop's church. During the

Thirteenth Century there were some twenty cathedrals in various parts

of England; each one had its cathedral school. Besides these there

were at least as many important abbeys, nearly a dozen of them immense

institutions, in which there were fine libraries, large writing rooms,

in which copies of books were being constantly made, many of the

members of the communities of which were university men, and around

which, therefore, there clung an atmosphere of bookishness and

educational influence that made them preparatory schools of a high

type. The buildings themselves were of the highest type of

architecture; the community life was well calculated to bring out what

was best in the {27} intellectuality of members of the community, and,

then, there was a rivalry between the various religious orders which

made them prepare their men well in order that they might do honor to

the order when they had the opportunity later, as most of those who

had the ability and the taste actually did have, to go to one or other

of the universities.

This system of preparatory schools need not be accepted on the mere

assumption that the monasteries and churches must surely have set

about such work, because there is abundant evidence of the actual

establishment and maintenance of such schools. With regard to the

monasteries there can be no doubt, because it was the members of the

religious orders who particularly distinguished themselves at the

universities, and the histories of Oxford, Cambridge, and Paris are

full of their accomplishments. They succeeded in obtaining the right

to have their own houses at the universities and to have their own

examinations count in university work, in order that they might

maintain their influence over the members of the orders during the

precious formative period of their intellectual life. With regard to

the church schools there is convincing evidence of another kind.

In the chapter on the foundation of City Hospitals we have detailed on

the authority of Virchow all that Innocent III. accomplished for the

hospital system of Europe. This chapter was published originally in

the form of a lecture from the historical department of the Medical

School of Fordham University and a reprint of it was sent to a

distinguished American educator well known for his condemnation of

supposed church intolerance in the matter of education and scientific

development. He said that he was glad to have it because it confirmed

and even broadened the idea that he had long cherished, that the

Church had done more for Charity during the despised Middle Ages than

national governments had ever been able to accomplish since, though it

was all the more surprising to him that it should not have under the

circumstances, done more for education, since this might have

prevented some of the ills that charity had afterward to relieve. This

expression very probably represents the state of mind of very many

scholars with regard to this period. The Church is supposed to have

interested herself {28} in charity almost to the exclusion of

educational influence. Charity is of course admitted to be her special

work, yet these scholars cannot help but regret that more was not done

in social prophylaxis by the encouragement of education.

In the light of this almost universal expression it is all the more

interesting to find that such opinions are founded entirely on a lack

of knowledge of what was done in education, since the same Pope, in

practically the same way and by the exertion of the same prestige and

ecclesiastical authority, did for education just what he did for

charity in the matter of the hospitals and the ailing poor. Virchow,

as we shall see, declared that to Innocent III. is due the foundation

of practically all the city hospitals in Europe. If the effect of

certain of the decrees issued in his papacy be carefully followed, it

will be found that practically as many schools as hospitals owe their

origin to his beneficent wisdom and his paternal desire to spread the

advantages of Christianity all over the civilized world. This policy

with regard to the hospitals led to the foundation before the end of

the century of at least one hospital in every diocese of all the

countries which were more closely allied with the Holy See. There is

extant a decree issued by the famous council of Lateran, in 1215, a

council in which Innocent's authority was dominant, requiring the

establishment of a Chair of Grammar in connection with every cathedral

in the Christian world. This Chair of Grammar included at least three

of the so-called liberal arts and provided for what would now be

called, the education of a school preparatory to a university.

Before this, Innocent III, [Footnote 2] who had himself received the

benefit of the best education of the time, having spent some years at

Rome and later at Paris and at Bologna, had encouraged the sending of

students to these universities in every way.

[Footnote 2: Most of the details of what was accomplished for

education by Pope Innocent III, and all the references needed to

supply further information, can be found in the _Hestoire

Litteratire de la France_, recent volumes of which were issued by

the French Institute, though the magnificent work itself was begun

by Benedictines of St. Maur, who completed some fifteen volumes. The

sixteenth volume, most of which is written by Daunou, is especially

valuable for this period. Du Boulay, in his History of the

University of Paris, will furnish additional information with regard

to Pope Innocent's relations to education throughout Europe,

especially, of course, in what regards the University of Paris.]

[Illustration]

CATHEDRAL (YORK)

[Illustration]

CATHEDRAL (LINCOLN)

{29}

Bishops who came to Rome were sure to hear inculcated the advisability

of a taste for letters in clergymen, hear it said often enough that

such a taste would surely increase the usefulness of all churchmen.

Schools had been encouraged before the issuance of the decree. This

only came as a confirmatory document calculated to perpetuate the

policy that had already been so prominently in vogue in the church for

over fifteen years of the Pope's reign. It was meant, too, to make

clear to hesitant and tardy bishops, who might have thought that the

papal interest in education was merely personal, that the policy of

the church was concerned in it and recalled them to a sense of duty in

the matter, since the ordinary enthusiasm for letters, even with the

added encouragement of the Pope, did not suffice to make them realize

the necessity for educational establishments.

The institution of the schools of grammar in connection with

cathedrals was well adapted to bring about a definite increase in the

opportunities for book learning for those who desired it. In

connection with the cathedrals there was always a band of canons whose

duty it was to take part in the singing of the daily office. Their

ceremonial and ritual duties did not, however, occupy them more than a

few hours each day. During the rest of the time they were free to

devote themselves to any subject in which they might be interested and

had ample time for teaching. The requirement that there should be at

least a school of grammar in connection with every cathedral afforded

definite opportunity to such of these ecclesiastics as had

intellectual tastes to devote themselves to the spread of knowledge

and of culture, and this reacted, as can be readily understood, to

make the whole band of canons more interested in the things of the

mind, and to make the cathedral even more the intellectual center of

the district than might otherwise have been the case.

For the metropolitan churches a more far-reaching regulation was made

by this same council of Lateran under the inspiration of the Pope

himself. These important Archiepiscopal cathedrals were required to

maintain professors of three chairs. One of these was to teach

grammar, a second philosophy, and a third canon law. Under these

designations there was practically included much of what is now

studied not only in preparatory {30} schools but also at the beginning

of University courses. The regulation was evidently intended to lead

eventually to the formation of many more universities than were then

in existence, because already it had become clear that the traveling

of students to long distances and their gathering in such large

numbers in towns away from home influences, led to many abuses that

might be obviated if they could stay in their native cities, or at

least did not have to leave their native provinces. This was a

far-seeing regulation that, like so many other decrees of the century,

manifests the very practical policy of the Pope in matters of

education as well as charity. As a matter of fact this decree did lead

to the gradual development of about twenty universities during the

Thirteenth Century, and to the establishment of a number of other

schools so important in scope and attendance that their evolution into

universities during the Fourteenth Century became comparatively easy.

This formal church law, moreover, imposed upon ecclesiastical

authorities the necessity for providing for even higher education in

their dioceses and made them realize that it was entirely in sympathy

with the church's spirit and in accord with the wish of the Father of

Christendom, that they should make as ample provision for education as

they did for charity, though this last was supposed to be their

special task as pastors of the Christian flock.

All this important work for the foundation of preparatory schools in

every diocese and of the preliminary organization of teaching

institutions that might easily develop into universities, as they

actually did in a score of cases in metropolitan cities, was

accomplished under the first Pope of the Thirteenth Century, Innocent

III. His successors kept up this good work. Pope Honorius III., his

immediate successor, went so far in this matter as to depose a bishop

who had not read Donatus, the popular grammarian of the time. The

bishop evidently was considered unfit, as far as his mental training

went, to occupy the important post of head of a diocese. Pope Gregory

IX., the nephew of Innocent III., was one of the most important

patrons of the study of law in this period (see Legal Origins in Other

Countries), and encouraged the collection of the decrees of former

Popes so as to make them available for purposes of study as well as

for court use. He is famous for {31} having protected the University

of Paris during some of the serious trouble with the municipal

authorities, when the large increase of the number of students in

attendance at the University had unfortunately brought about strained

relations between town and gown.

Pope Innocent IV. by several decrees encouraged the development of the

University of Paris, increased its rights and conferred new

privileges. He also did much to develop the University of Toulouse,

and especially to raise its standard and make it equal to that of

Paris as far as possible. The patronage of Toulouse on the part of the

Pope is all the more striking because the study of civil law was here

a special feature and the ecclesiastical authorities were often said

to have looked askance at the rising prominence of civil law, since it

threatened to diminish the importance of canon law; and the

cultivation of it, only too frequently, seemed to give rise to

friction between civil and ecclesiastical authorities. While the

pontifical court of Innocent IV. was maintained at Lyons it seemed,

according to the Literary History of France, [Footnote 3] more like

an academy of theology and of canon law than the court of a great

monarch whose power was acknowledged throughout the world, or a great

ecclesiastic who might be expected to be occupied with details of

Church government.

[Footnote 3: Histoire Litteratire de la France, Vol. XVI,

Introductory Discourse.]

Succeeding Popes of the century were not less prominent in their

patronage of education. Pope Alexander IV. supported the cause of the

Mendicant Friars against the University of Paris, but this was

evidently with the best of intentions. The mendicants came to claim

the privilege of having houses in association with the university in

which they might have lectures for the members of their orders, and

asked for due allowance in the matter of degrees for courses thus

taken. The faculty of the University did not want to grant this

privilege, though it was acknowledged that some of the best professors

in the University were members of the Mendicant orders, and we need

only mention such names as Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas Aquinas from

the Dominicans, and St. Bonaventure, Roger Bacon and Duns Scotus from

the Franciscans, to show the truth of this assertion. To give such a

privilege {32} seemed a derogation of the faculty rights and the

University refused. Then the Holy See interfered to insist that the

University must give degrees for work done, rather than merely for

regulation attendance. The best possible proof that Pope Alexander

cannot be considered as wishing to injure or even diminish the

prestige of the University in any way, is to be found in the fact that

he afterwards sent two of his nephews to Paris to attend at the

University.

All these Popes, so far mentioned, were not Frenchmen and therefore

could have no national feeling in the matter of the University of

Paris or of the French universities in general. It is not surprising

to find that Pope Urban IV., who was a Frenchman and an alumnus of the

University of Paris, elevated many French scholars, and especially his

fellow alumni of Paris, to Church dignitaries of various kinds. After

Urban IV., Nicholas IV. who succeeded him, though once more an

Italian, founded chairs in the University of Montpelier, and also a

professorship in a school that it was hoped would develop into a

university at Gray in Franche Comte. In a word, looked at from every

point of view, it must be admitted that the Church and ecclesiastical

authorities were quite as much interested in education as in charity

during this century, and it is to them that must be traced the

foundation of the preparatory schools, as well as the universities,

and the origin and development of the great educational movement that

stamps this century as the greatest in human history.

[Illustration]

JACQUES COEUR'S HOUSE (BOURGES)

[Illustration]

CLOISTER OF ST. JOHN LATERAN (ROME)

{33}

III

WHAT AND HOW THEY STUDIED AT THE UNIVERSITIES.

It is usually the custom for text books of education to dismiss the

teaching at the universities of the Middle Ages with some such

expression as: "The teachers were mainly engaged in metaphysical

speculations and the students were occupied with exercises in logic

and in dialectics, learning in long drawn out disputations how to use

the intellectual instruments they possessed but never actually

applying them. All knowledge was supposed to be amenable to increase

through dialectical discussion and all truth was supposed, to be

obtainable as the conclusion of a regular syllogism." Great fun

especially is made of the long-winded disputations, the time-taking

public exercises in dialectics, the fine hair-drawn distinctions

presumably with but the scantiest basis of truth behind them and in

general the placing of words for realities in the investigation of

truth and the conveyance of information. The sublime ignorance of

educators who talk thus about the century that saw the rise of the

universities in connection with the erection of the great Cathedrals,

is only equaled by their assumption of knowledge.

It is very easy to make fun of a past generation and often rather

difficult to enter into and appreciate its spirit. Ridicule comes

natural to human nature, alas! but sympathy requires serious mental

application for understanding's sake. Fortunately there has come in

recent years a very different feeling in the minds of many mature and

faithful students of this period, as regards the Middle Ages and its

education. Dialectics may seem to be a waste of time to those who

consider the training of the human mind as of little value in

comparison with the stocking of it with information. Dialectical

training will probably not often enable men to earn more money than

might have otherwise been the case. This will be {34} eminently true

if the dialectician is to devote himself to commercial enterprises in

his future life. If he is to take up one of the professions, however,

there may be some doubt as to whether even his practical effectiveness

will not be increased by a good course of logic. There is, however,

another point of view from which this matter of the study of

dialectics may be viewed, and which has been taken very well by Prof.

Saintsbury of the University of Edinburgh in a recent volume on the

Thirteenth Century.

He insists in a passage which we quote at length in the chapter on the

Prose of the Century, that if this training in logic had not been

obtained at this time in European development, the results might have

been serious for our modern languages and modern education. He says:

"If at the outset of the career of the modern languages, men had

thought with the looseness of modern thought, had indulged in the

haphazard slovenliness of modern logic, had popularized theology and

vulgarized rhetoric, as we have seen both popularized and vulgarized

since, we should indeed have been in evil case." He maintains that

"the far-reaching educative influence in mere language, in mere system

of arrangement and expression, must be considered as one of the great

benefits of Scholasticism." This is, after all, only a similar opinion

to that evidently entertained by Mr. John Stuart Mill, who, as Prof.

Saintsbury says, was not often a scholastically-minded philosopher,

for he quotes in the preface of his logic two very striking opinions

from very different sources, the Scotch philosopher, Hamilton, and the

French philosophical writer, Condorcet. Hamilton said, "It is to the

schoolmen that the vulgar languages are indebted for what precision

and analytical subtlety they possess." Condorcet went even further

than this, and used expressions that doubless will be a great source

of surprise to those who do not realize how much of admiration is

always engendered in those who really study the schoolmen seriously

and do not take opinions of them from the chance reading of a few

scattered passages, or depend for the data of their judgment on some

second-hand authority, who thought it clever to abuse these old-time

thinkers. Condorcet thought them far in advance of the old Greek

philosophers for, he said, "Logic, ethics, and metaphysics {35}

itself, owe to scholasticism a precision unknown to the ancients

themselves."

With regard to the methods and contents of the teaching in the

undergraduate department of the university, that is, in what we would

now call the arts department, there is naturally no little interest at

the present time. Besides the standards set up and the tests required

can scarcely fail to attract attention. Professor Turner, in his

History of Philosophy, has summed up much of what we know in this

matter in a paragraph so full of information that we quote it in order

to give our readers the best possible idea in a compendious form of

these details of the old-time education.

"By statutes issued at various times during the Thirteenth Century

it was provided that the professor should read, that is expound, the

text of certain standard authors in philosophy and theology. In a

document published by Denifle, (the distinguished authority on

medieval universities) and by him referred to the year 1232, we find

the following works among those prescribed for the Faculty of Arts:

Logica Vetus (the old Boethian text of a portion of the Organon,

probably accompanied by Porphyry's Isagoge); Logica Nova (the new

translation of the Organon); Gilbert's Liber Sex Principorium; and

Donatus's Barbarismus. A few years later (1255), the following works

are prescribed: Aristotle's Physics, Metaphysics, De Anima, De

Animalibus, De Caelo et Mundo, Meteorica, the minor psychological

treatises and some Arabian or Jewish works, such as the Liber de

Causis and De Differentia Spirititus et Animae."

"The first degree for which the student of arts presented himself

was that of bachelor. The candidate for this degree, after a

preliminary test called responsiones (this regulation went into

effect not later than 1275), presented himself for the determination

which was a public defense of a certain number of theses against

opponents chosen from the audience. At the end of the disputation,

the defender summed up, or determined, his conclusions. After

determining, the bachelor resumed his studies for the licentiate,

assuming also the task of cursorily explaining to junior students

some portion of the Organon. The test for the degree of licentiate

consisted {36} in a _collatio_, or exposition of several texts,

after the manner of the masters. The student was now a licensed

teacher; he did not, however, become magister, or master of arts,

until he had delivered what was called the _inceptio_, or inaugural

lecture, and was actually installed (_birrettatio_). If he continued

to teach he was called _magisier actu regens_; if he departed from

the university or took up other work, he was called _magister non

regens_. It may be said that, as a general rule, the course of

reading was: (1) for the bachelor's degree, grammar, logic, and

psychology; (2) for the licentiate, natural philosophy; (3) for the

master's degree, ethics, and the completion of the course of natural

philosophy."

Quite apart from the value of its methods, however, scholasticism in

certain of its features had a value in the material which it discussed

and developed that modern generations only too frequently fail to

realize. With regard to this the same distinguished authority whom we

quoted with regard to dialectics, Prof. Saintsbury, does not hesitate

to use expressions which will seem little short of rankly heretical to

those who swear by modern science, and yet may serve to inject some

eminently suggestive ideas into a sadly misunderstood subject.

"Yet there has always in generous souls who have some tincture of

philosophy, subsisted a curious kind of sympathy and yearning over

the work of these generations of mainly disinterested scholars, who,

whatever they were, were thorough, and whatever they could not do,

could think. _And there, have even, in these latter days, been some

graceless ones who have asked whether the Science of the nineteenth

century, after an equal interval, will be of any more positive

value--whether it will not have even less comparative interest than

that which appertains to the Scholasticism of the Thirteenth."_

In the light of this it has seemed well to try to show in terms of

present-day science some of the important reflections with regard to

such problems of natural history, as magnetism, the composition of

matter, and the relation of things physical to one another, which we

now include under the name science, some of the thoughts that these

scholars of the Thirteenth Century were thinking and were developing

for the benefit of the {37} enthusiastic students who flocked to the

universities. We will find in such a review though it must necessarily

be brief many more anticipations of modern science than would be

thought possible.

To take the example for the moment of magnetism which is usually

considered to be a subject entirely of modern attention, a good idea

of the intense interest of this century in things scientific, can be

obtained from the following short paragraph in which Brother Potamian

in his sketch of Petrus Peregrinus, condenses the references to

magnetic phenomena that are found in the literature of the time. Most

of the writers he mentions were not scientists in the ordinary sense

of the word but were literary men, and the fact that these references

occur shows very clearly that there must have been wide-spread

interest in such scientific phenomena, since they had attracted the

attention of literary writers, who would not have spoken of them

doubtless, but that they knew that in this they would be satisfying as

well as exciting public interest.

"Abbot Neckam, the Augustinian (1157-1217), distinguished between

the properties of the two ends of the lodestone, and gives in his De

Utensilibus, what is perhaps the earliest reference to the mariner's

compass that we have. Albertus Magnus, the Dominican (1193-1280), in

his treatise De Mineralibus, enumerates different kinds of natural

magnets and states some of the properties commonly attributed to

them; the minstrel, Guyot de Provins, in a famous satirical poem,

written about 1208, refers to the directive quality of the lodestone

and its use in navigation, as do also Cardinal de Vitry in his

Historia Orientialis (1215-1220), Brunetto Latini, poet, orator and

philosopher (the teacher of Dante), in his Tresor des Sciences, a

veritable library, written in Paris in 1260; Raymond Lully, the

enlightened Doctor, in his treatise, De Contemplatione, begun in

1272, and Guido Guinicelli, the poet-priest of Bologna, who died in

1276." [Footnote 4]

[Footnote 4: The letter of Petrus Peregrinus on the Magnet, A. D.

1269, translated by Bro. Arnold, M. Sc., with an Introductory Note

by Bro. Potamian, N. Y., 1904.]

{38}

The metaphysics of the medieval universities have come in for quite as

much animadversion, not to say ridicule, as the dialectics. None of

its departments is spared in the condemnation, though most fun is made

of the gropings of the medieval mind after truth in the physical

sciences. The cosmology, the science of matter as it appealed to the

medieval mind, is usually considered to have been so entirely

speculative as to deserve no further attention. We have presumably,

learned so much by experimental demonstration and original observation

in the physical sciences, that any thinking of the medieval mind along

these lines may, in the opinion of those who know nothing of what they

speak, be set aside as preposterous, or at best nugatory. It will

surely be a source of surprise, then, to find that in the

consideration of the composition of matter and of the problem of the

forces connected with it, the minds of the medieval schoolmen were

occupied with just the same questions that have been most interesting

to the Nineteenth Century and that curiously enough the conclusions

they reached, though by very different methods of investigation, were

almost exactly the same as those to which modern physical scientists

have attained by their refined methods of investigation.

One or two examples will suffice, I think, to show very clearly that

the students of the Thirteenth Century had presented to them

practically the same problems with regard to matter, its origin and

composition, as occupy the students of the present generation. For

instance Thomas Aquinas usually known as St. Thomas, in a series of

lectures given at the University of Paris toward the end of the third

quarter of the Thirteenth Century, stated as the most important

conclusion with regard to matter, that _"Nihil omnino in nihilum

redigetur_,"' "Nothing at all will ever be reduced to nothingness." By

this it was very evident from the context that he meant that matter

would never be annihilated and could never be destroyed. It might be

changed in various ways but it could never go back into the

nothingness from which it had been taken by the creative act.

Annihilation was pronounced as not being a part of the scheme of

things as far as the human mind could hope to fathom its meaning.

In this sentence, then, Thomas of Aquin was proclaiming the {39}

doctrine of the indestructibility of matter. It was not until well on

in the nineteenth century that the chemists and physicists of modern

times realized the truth of this great principle. The chemists had

seen matter change its form in many ways, had seen it disappear

apparently in the smoke of fire or evaporate under the influence of

heat, but investigation proved that if care were taken in the

collection of the gases that came off under these circumstances, of

the ashes of combustion and of the residue of evaporation, all the

original material that had been contained in the supposedly

disappearing substance could be recovered or at least completely

accounted for. The physicists on their part had realized this same

truth and finally there came the definite enunciation of the absolute

indestructibility of matter. St. Thomas' conclusion "Nothing at all

will ever be reduced to nothingness" had anticipated this doctrine by

nearly seven centuries. What happened in the Nineteenth Century was

that there came an experimental demonstration of the truth of the

principle. The principle itself, however, had been reached long before

by the human mind by speculative processes quite as inerrable in their

way as the more modern method of investigation.

When St. Thomas used the aphorism "Nothing at all will ever be reduced

to nothingness" there was another signification that he attached to

the words quite as clearly as that by which they expressed the

indestructibility of matter. For him _Nihil_ or nothing meant neither

_matter_ nor _form_, that is, neither the material substance nor the

energy which is contained in it. He meant then, that no energy would

ever be destroyed as well as no matter would ever be annihilated. He

was teaching the conservation of energy as well as the

indestructibility of matter. Here once more the experimental

demonstration of the doctrine was delayed for over six centuries and a

half. The truth itself, however, had been reached by this medieval

master-mind and was the subject of his teaching to the university

students in Paris in the Thirteenth Century. These examples should, I

think, serve to illustrate that the minds of medieval students were

occupied with practically the same questions as those which are now

taught to the university students of our day. There are, however, some

even {40} more striking anticipations of modern teaching that will

serve to demonstrate this community of educational interests in spite

of seven centuries of time separation.

In recent years we have come to realize that matter is not the

manifold material we were accustomed to think it when we accepted the

hypothesis that there were some seventy odd different kinds of atoms,

each one absolutely independent of any other and representing an

ultimate term in science. The atomic theory from this standpoint has

proved to be only a working hypothesis that was useful for a time, but

that our physicists are now agreed must not be considered as something

absolute. Radium has been observed changing into helium and the

relations of atoms to one another as they are now known, make it

almost certain that all of them have an underlying sub-stratum the

same in all, but differentiated by the dynamic energies with which

matter in its different forms is gifted. Sir Oliver Lodge has stated

this theory of the constitution of matter very clearly in recent

years, and in doing so has only been voicing the practically universal

sentiment of those who have been following the latest developments in

the physical sciences. Strange as it may appear, this was exactly the

teaching of Aquinas and the schoolmen with regard to the constitution

of matter. They said that the two constituting principles of matter

were prime matter and form. By prime matter they meant the material

sub-stratum the same in all material things. By form they meant the

special dynamic energy which, entering into prime matter, causes it to

act differently from other kinds and gives it all the particular

qualities by which we recognize it. This theory was not original with

them, having been adopted from Aristotle, but it was very clearly set

forth, profoundly discussed, and amply illustrated by the schoolmen.

In its development this theory was made to be of the greatest help in

the explanation of many other difficulties with regard to living as

well as non-living things in their hands. The theory has its

difficulties, but they are less than those of any other theory of the

constitution of matter, and it has been accepted by more philosophic

thinkers since the Thirteenth Century than any other doctrine of

similar nature. It may be said that it was reached only by deduction

and not by experimental observation. Such an expression, {41} however,

instead of being really an objection is rather a demonstration of the

fact that great truths may be reached by deduction yet only

demonstrated by inductive methods many centuries later.

Of course it may well be said even after all these communities of

interest between the medieval and the modern teaching of the general

principles of science has been pointed out, that the universities of

the Middle Ages did not present the subjects under discussion in a

practical way, and their teaching was not likely to lead to directly

beneficial results in applied science. It might well he responded to

this, that it is not the function of a university to teach

applications of science but only the great principles, the broad

generalizations that underlie scientific thinking, leaving details to

be filled in in whatever form of practical work the man may take up.

Very few of those, however, who talk about the purely speculative

character of medieval teaching have manifestly ever made it their

business to know anything about the actual facts of old-time

university teaching by definite knowledge, but have rather allowed

themselves to be guided by speculation and by inadequate second-hand

authorities, whose dicta they have never taken the trouble to

substantiate by a glance at contemporary authorities on medieval

matters.

It will be interesting to quote for the information of such men, the

opinion of the greatest of medieval scientists with regard to the

reason why men do not obtain real knowledge more rapidly than would

seem ought to be the case, from the amount of work which they have

devoted to obtaining it. Roger Bacon, summing up for Pope Clement the

body of doctrine that he was teaching at the University of Oxford in

the Thirteenth Century, starts out with the principle that there are

four grounds of human ignorance. "These are first, trust in inadequate

authority; second, the force of custom which leads men to accept too

unquestioningly what has been accepted before their time; third, the

placing of confidence in the opinion of the inexperienced; and fourth,

the hiding of one's own ignorance with the parade of a superficial

wisdom." Surely no one will ever be able to improve on these four

grounds for human ignorance, and they continue to be as {42} important

in the twentieth century as they were in the Thirteenth. They could

only have emanated from an eminently practical mind, accustomed to

test by observation and by careful searching of authorities, every

proposition that came to him. Professor Henry Morley, Professor of

English Literature at University College, London, says of these

grounds for ignorance of Roger Bacon, in his English Writers, Volume

III, page 321: "No part of that ground has yet been cut away from

beneath the feet of students, although six centuries ago the Oxford

friar clearly pointed out its character. We still make sheep walks of

second, third, and fourth and fiftieth-hand references to authority;

still we are the slaves of habit; still we are found following too

frequently the untaught crowd; still we flinch from the righteous and

wholesome phrase, 'I do not know'; and acquiesce actively in the

opinion of others that we know what we appear to know. Substitute

honest research, original and independent thought, strict truth in the

comparison of only what we really know with what is really known by

others, and the strong redoubt of ignorance has fallen."

The number of things which Roger Bacon succeeded in discovering by the

application of the principle of testing everything by personal

observation, is almost incredible to a modern student of science and

of education who has known nothing before of the progress in science

made by this wonderful man. He has been sometimes declared to be the

discoverer of gunpowder, but this is a mistake since it was known many

years before by the Arabs and by them introduced into Europe. He did

study explosives very deeply, however, and besides learning many

things about them realized how much might be accomplished by their use

in the after-time. He declares in his Opus Magnum: "That one may cause

to burst forth from bronze, thunderbolts more formidable than those

produced by nature. A small quantity of prepared matter occasions a

terrible explosion accompanied by a brilliant light. One may multiply

this phenomenon so far as to destroy a city or an army." Considering

how little was known about gunpowder at this time, this was of itself

a marvelous anticipation of what might be accomplished by it.

[Illustration]

RATHHAUS (TANGERMUeNDE)

Bacon prophesied, however, much more than merely {43} destructive

effects from the use of high explosives, and indeed it is almost

amusing to see how closely he anticipated some of the most modern

usages of high explosives for motor purposes. He seems to have

concluded that some time the apparently uncontrollable forces of

explosion would come under the control of man and be harnessed by him

for his own purposes. He realized that one of the great applications

of such a force would be for transportation. Accordingly he said: "Art

can construct instruments of navigation such that the largest vessels

governed by a single man will traverse rivers and seas more rapidly

than if they were filled with oarsmen. One may also make carriages

which without the aid of any animal will run with remarkable

swiftness." [Footnote 5] When we recall that the very latest thing

in transportation are motor-boats and automobiles driven by gasoline,

a high explosive, Roger Bacon's prophesy becomes one of these weird

anticipations of human progress which seem almost more than human.

[Footnote 5: These quotations are taken from Ozanam's Dante and

Catholic Philosophy, published by the Cathedral Library Association,

New York, 1897. ]

It was not with regard to explosives alone, however, that Roger Bacon

was to make great advances and still more marvelous anticipations in

physical science. He was not, as is sometimes claimed for him, either

the inventor of the telescope or of the theory of lenses. He did more,

however, than perhaps anyone else to make the principles of lenses

clear and to establish them on a mathematical basis. His traditional

connection with the telescope can probably be traced to the fact that

he was very much interested in astronomy and the relations of the

heavens to the earth. He pointed out very clearly the errors which had

crept into the Julian calendar, calculated exactly how much of a

correction was needed in order to restore the year to its proper

place, and suggested the method by which future errors of this kind

could be avoided. His ideas were too far beyond his century to be

applied in a practical way, but they were not to be without their

effect and it is said that they formed the basis of the subsequent

correction of the calendar in the time of Pope Gregory XIII three

centuries later.

{44}

It is rather surprising to find how much besides the theory of lenses

Friar Bacon had succeeded in finding out in the department of optics.

He taught, for instance, the principle of the aberration of light,

and, still more marvelous to consider, taught that light did not

travel instantaneously but had a definite rate of motion, though this

was extremely rapid. It is rather difficult to understand how he

reached this conclusion since light travels so fast that as far as

regards any observation that can be made upon earth, the diffusion is

practically instantaneous. It was not for over three centuries later

that Roemer, the German astronomer, demonstrated the motion of light

and its rate, by his observations upon the moons of Jupiter at

different phases of the earth's orbit, which showed that the light of

these moons took a definite and quite appreciable time to reach the

earth after their eclipse by the planet was over.

We are not surprised to find that Bacon should praise those of his

contemporaries who devoted themselves to mathematics and to

experimental observations in science. Of one of his correspondents who

even from distant Italy sent him his observations in order that he

might have the great Franciscan's precious comments on them. Bacon has

given quite a panegyric. The reasons for his praise, however, are so

different from those which are ordinarily proclaimed to have been the

sources of laudation in distant medieval scientific circles, that we

prefer to quote Bacon's own words from the Opus Tertium. Bacon is

talking of Petrus Peregrinus and says: "I know of only one person who

deserves praise for his work in experimental philosophy, for he does

not care for the discourses of men and their wordy warfare, but

quietly and diligently pursues the works of wisdom. Therefore, what

others grope after blindly, as bats in the evening twilight, this man

contemplates in all their brilliancy because he is a master of

experiment. Hence, he knows all natural science whether pertaining to

medicine and alchemy, or to matters celestial and terrestrial.

"He has worked diligently in the smelting of ores as also in the

working of minerals; he is thoroughly acquainted with all sorts of

arms and implements used in military service and in hunting, besides

which he is skilled in agriculture and in the measurement of lands.

{45} It is impossible to write a useful or correct treatise in

experimental philosophy without mentioning this man's name.

Moreover, he pursues knowledge for its own sake; for if he wished to

obtain royal favor, he could easily find sovereigns who would honor

and enrich him."

[Illustration]

CATHEDRAL (YORK)

[Illustration]

CATHEDRAL (HEREFORD)

Lest it should be thought that these expressions of laudatory

appreciation of the great Thirteenth Century scientist are dictated

more by the desire to magnify his work and to bring out the influence

in science of the Churchmen of the period, it seems well to quote an

expression of opinion from the modern historian of the inductive

sciences, whose praise is scarcely if any less outspoken than that of

others whom we have quoted and who might be supposed to be somewhat

partial in their judgment. This opinion will fortify the doubters who

must have authority and at the same time sums up very excellently the

position which Roger Bacon occupies in the History of Science.

Dr. Whewell says that Roger Bacon's Opus Majus is "the encyclopedia

and Novam Organon of the Thirteenth Century, a work equally wonderful

with regard to its general scheme and to the special treatises with

which the outlines of the plans are filled up. The professed object of

the work is to urge the necessity of a reform in the mode of

philosophizing, to set forth the reasons why knowledge had not made a

greater progress, to draw back attention to the sources of knowledge

which had been unwisely neglected, to discover other sources which

were yet almost untouched, and to animate men in the undertaking by a

prospect of the vast advantages which it offered. In the development

of this plan all the leading portions of science are expanded in the

most complete shape which they had at that time assumed; and

improvements of a very wide and striking kind are proposed in some of

the principal branches of study. Even if the work had no leading

purposes it would have been highly valuable as a treasure of the most

solid knowledge and soundest speculations of the time; even if it had

contained no such details it would have been a work most remarkable

for its general views and scope."

It is only what might have been expected, however, from {46} Roger

Bacon's training that he should have made great progress in the

physical sciences. At the University of Paris his favorite teacher was

Albertus Magnus, who was himself deeply interested in all the physical

sciences, though he was more concerned with the study of chemical

problems than of the practical questions which were to occupy his

greatest pupil. There is no doubt at all that Albertus Magnus

accomplished a great amount of experimental work in chemistry and had

made a large series of actual observations. He was a theologian as

well as a philosopher and a scientist. Some idea of the immense

industry of the man can be obtained from the fact that his complete

works as published consist of some twenty large folio volumes, each

one of which contains on the average at least 500,000 words.

The Thirteenth, Greatest of Centuries · 第 26 / 35 章