CHAPTER XXXIV.

HISTORY OF PHYSICAL AND OTHER LITERATURE FROM 1650 TO 1700.

Reasons for omitting Mathematics 831

Academy del Cimento 831

Royal Society 832

Academy of Sciences at Paris 832

State of Chemistry 832

Becker 833

Boyle 833

His Metaphysical Works 833

Extract from one of them 833

His Merits in Physics and Chemistry 834

General Character of Boyle 834

Of Hooke and Others 834

Lemery 835

Slow Progress of Zoology 835

Before Ray 835

His Synopsis of Quadrupeds 835

Merits of this Work 835

Redi 836

Swammerdam 836

Lister 836

Comparative Anatomy 836

Botany 837

Jungius 837

Morison 837

Ray 837

Rivinus 838

Tournefort 838

Vegetable Physiology 839

Grew 839

His Anatomy of Plants 840

He discovers the Sexual System 840

Camerarius confirms this 840

Predecessors of Grew 840

Malpighi 840

Early Notions of Geology 840

Burnet’s Theory of Earth 840

Other Geologists 841

Protogæa of Leibnitz 841

Circulation of Blood Established 842

Willis--Vieussens 842

Malpighi 842

Other Anatomists 842

Medical Theories 843

Polyglott of Walton 843

Hottinger 844

Spencer 844

Bochart 844

Pococke 844

D’Herbelot 844

Hyde 844

Maps of the Sansons 844

De Lisle’s Map of the World 845

Voyages and Travels 845

Historians 845

De Solis 845

Memoirs of De Retz 845

Bossuet on Universal History 846

English Historical Works 846

Burnet 846

General Character of 17th Century 846

Conclusion 847

PREFACE.

The advantages of such a synoptical view of literature as displays its

various departments in their simultaneous condition through an extensive

period, and in their mutual dependency, seem too manifest to be

disputed. And, as we possess little of this kind in our own language, I

have been induced to undertake that to which I am in some respects, at

least, very unequal, but which no more capable person, as far as I could

judge, was likely to perform. In offering to the public this

introduction to the literary history of three centuries--for I cannot

venture to give it a title of more pretension--it is convenient to state

my general secondary sources of information, exclusive of the

acquaintance I possess with original writers; and, at the same time, by

showing what has already been done, and what is left undone, to furnish

a justification of my own undertaking.

The history of literature belongs to modern, and chiefly to almost

recent times. The nearest approach to it that the ancients have left us

is contained in a single chapter of Quintilian, the first of the tenth

book, wherein he passes rapidly over the names and characters of the

poets, orators, and historians of Greece and Rome. This, however, is but

a sketch; and the valuable work of Diogenes Laertius preserves too

little of chronological order to pass for a history of ancient

philosophy, though it has supplied much of the materials for all that

has been written on the subject.

In the sixteenth century, the great increase of publications, and the

devotion to learning which distinguished that period, might suggest the

scheme of a universal literary history. Conrad Gesner, than whom no one,

by extent and variety of erudition, was more fitted for the labour,

appears to have framed a plan of this kind. What he has published, the

Bibliotheca Universalis, and the Pandectæ Universales, are, taken

together, the materials that might have been thrown into an historical

form; the one being an alphabetical catalogue of authors and their

writings; the other a digested and minute index to all departments of

knowledge, in twenty-one books, each divided into titles, with short

references to the texts of works on every head in his comprehensive

classification. The order of time is therefore altogether disregarded.

Possevin, an Italian Jesuit, made somewhat a nearer approach to this in

his Bibliotheca Selecta, published at Rome in 1593. Though his

partitions are rather encyclopædic than historical, and his method,

especially in the first volume, is chiefly argumentative, he gives under

each chapter a nearly chronological catalogue of authors, and sometimes

a short account of their works.

Lord Bacon, in the second book De Augmentis Scientiarum, might justly

deny, notwithstanding these defective works of the preceding century,

that any real history of letters had been written; and he

compares that of the world, wanting this, to a statue of Polypheme

deprived of his single eye. He traces the method of supplying this

deficiency in one of those luminous and comprehensive passages which

bear the stamp of his vast mind: the origin and antiquities of every

science, the methods by which it has been taught, the sects and

controversies it has occasioned, the colleges and academies in which it

has been cultivated, its relation to civil government and common

society, the physical or temporary causes which have influenced its

condition, form, in his plan, as essential a part of such a history, as

the lives of famous authors, and the books they have produced.

No one has presumed to fill up the outline which Bacon himself could but

sketch; and most part of the seventeenth century passed away with few

efforts on the part of the learned to do justice to their own

occupation; for we can hardly make an exception for the Prodromus

Historiæ Literariæ (Hamburg, 1659) of Lambecius, a very learned German,

who, having framed a magnificent scheme of a universal history of

letters, was able to carry it no farther than the times of Moses and

Cadmus. But, in 1688, Daniel Morhof, professor at Kiel in Holstein,

published his well-known Polyhistor, which received considerable

additions in the next age at the hands of Fabricius, and is still found

in every considerable library.

Morhof appears to have had the method of Possevin in some measure before

his eyes; but the lapse of a century, so rich in erudition as the

seventeenth, had prodigiously enlarged the sphere of literary history.

The precise object, however, of the Polyhistor, as the word imports, is

to direct, on the most ample plan, the studies of a single scholar.

Several chapters, that seem digressive in an historical light, are to be

defended by this consideration. In his review of books in every province

of literature, Morhof adopts a sufficiently chronological order; his

judgments are short, but usually judicious; his erudition so copious,

that later writers have freely borrowed from, and, in many parts, added

little to the enumeration of the Polyhistor. But he is far more

conversant with writers in Latin than the modern languages; and, in

particular, shows a scanty acquaintance with English literature.

Another century had elapsed, when the honour of first accomplishing a

comprehensive synopsis of literary history in a more regular form than

Morhof, was the reward of Andrès, a Spanish Jesuit, who, after the

dissolution of his order, passed the remainder of his life in Italy. He

published at Parma, in different years, from 1782 to 1799, his Origine

Progresso e Stato attuale d’ogni Litteratura. The first edition is in

five volumes quarto; but I have made use of that printed at Prato, 1806,

in twenty octavo volumes. Andrès, though a Jesuit, or perhaps because a

Jesuit, accommodated himself in some measure to the tone of the age

wherein his book appeared, and is always temperate, and often candid.

His learning is very extensive in surface, and sometimes minute and

curious, but not, generally speaking, profound; his style is flowing,

but diffuse and indefinite; his characters of books have a vagueness

unpleasant to those who seek for precise notions; his taste is correct,

but frigid; his general views are not injudicious, but display a

moderate degree of luminousness or philosophy. This work is, however, an

extraordinary performance, embracing both ancient and modern literature

in its full extent, and, in many parts, with little assistance from any

former publication of the kind. It is far better known on the

Continent than in England, where I have not frequently seen it quoted;

nor do I believe it is common in our private libraries.

A few years after the appearance of the first volumes of Andrès, some of

the most eminent among the learned of Germany projected a universal

history of modern arts and sciences on a much larger scale. Each single

province, out of eleven, was deemed sufficient for the labours of one

man, if they were to be minute and exhaustive of the subject: among

others, Bouterwek undertook poetry and polite letters; Buhle speculative

philosophy; Kästner the mathematical sciences; Sprengel anatomy and

medicine; Heeren classical philology. The general survey of the whole

seems to have been assigned to Eichhorn. So vast a scheme was not fully

executed; but we owe to it some standard works, to which I have been

considerably indebted. Eichhorn published, in 1796 and 1799, two

volumes, intended as the beginning of a General History of the

Cultivation and Literature of modern Europe, from the twelfth to the

eighteenth century. But he did not confine himself within the remoter

limit; and his second volume, especially, expatiates on the dark ages

that succeeded the fall of the Roman empire. In consequence, perhaps, of

this diffuseness, and also of the abandonment, for some reason with

which I am unacquainted, of a large portion of the original undertaking,

Eichhorn prosecuted this work no farther in its original form. But,

altering slightly its title, he published, some years afterwards, an

independent universal “History of Literature” from the earliest ages to

his own. This is comprised in six volumes, the first having appeared in

1805, the last in 1811.

The execution of these volumes is very unequal. Eichhorn was conversant

with oriental, with theological literature, especially of his own

country, and in general with that contained in the Latin language. But

he seems to have been slightly acquainted with that of the modern

languages, and with most branches of science. He is more specific, more

chronological, more methodical in his distribution than Andrès: his

reach of knowledge, on the other hand, is less comprehensive; and though

I could praise neither highly for eloquence, for taste, or for

philosophy, I should incline to give the preference in all these to the

Spanish Jesuit. But the qualities above mentioned render Eichhorn, on

the whole, more satisfactory to the student.

These are the only works, as far as I know, which deserve the name of

general histories of literature, embracing all subjects, all ages, and

all nations. If there are others, they must, I conceive, be too

superficial to demand attention. But in one country of Europe, and only

in one, we find a national history so comprehensive as to leave

uncommemorated no part of its literary labour. This was first executed

by Tiraboschi, a Jesuit born at Bergamo, and, in his later years,

librarian of the Duke of Modena, in twelve volumes quarto: I have used

the edition published at Rome in 1785. It descends to the close of the

seventeenth century. In full and clear exposition, in minute and exact

investigation of facts, Tiraboschi has few superiors; and such is his

good sense in criticism, that we must regret the sparing use he has made

of it. But the principal object of Tiraboschi was biography. A writer of

inferior reputation, Corniani, in his Secoli della litteratura Italiana

dopo il suo risorgimento (Brescia, 9 vols., 1804-1813), has gone more

closely to an appreciation of the numerous writers whom he passes in

review before our eyes. Though his method is biographical, he

pursues sufficiently the order of chronology to come into the class of

literary historians. Corniani is not much esteemed by some of his

countrymen, and does not rise to a very elevated point of philosophy;

but his erudition appears to me considerable, his judgments generally

reasonable; and his frequent analyses of books gives him one superiority

over Tiraboschi.

The Histoire Littéraire de l’Italie, by Ginguéné, is well known: he had

the advantage of following Tiraboschi; and could not so well, without

his aid, have gone over a portion of the ground, including in his

scheme, as he did, the Latin learning of Italy; but he was very

conversant with the native literature of the language, and has, not a

little prolixly, doubtless, but very usefully, rendered much of easy

access to Europe, which must have been sought in scarce volumes, and

was, in fact, known by name to a small part of the world. The Italians

are ungrateful if they deny their obligations to Ginguéné.

France has, I believe, no work of any sort, even an indifferent one, on

the universal history of her own literature; nor can we claim for

ourselves a single attempt of the most superficial kind. Warton’s

History of Poetry contains much that bears on our general learning; but

it leaves us about the accession of Elizabeth.

Far more has been accomplished in the history of particular departments

of literature. In the general history of philosophy, omitting a few

older writers, Brucker deserves to lead the way. There has been, of late

years, some disposition to depreciate his laborious performance, as not

sufficiently imbued with a metaphysical spirit, and as not rendering,

with clearness and truth, the tenets of the philosophers whom he

exhibits. But the Germany of 1744 was not the Germany of Kant and

Fichte; and possibly Brucker may not have proved the worse historian for

having known little of recent theories. The latter objection is more

material; in some instances he seems to me not quite equal to his

subject. But, upon the whole, he is of eminent usefulness; copious in

his extracts, impartial and candid in his judgments.

In the next age after Brucker, the great fondness of the German learned

both for historical and philosophical investigation produced more works

of this class than I know by name, and many more than I have read. The

most celebrated, perhaps, is that of Tennemann; but of which I only know

the abridgment, translated into French by M. Victor Cousin, with the

title Manuel de l’Histoire de Philosophie. Buhle, one of the society

above mentioned, whose focus was at Göttingen, contributed his share to

their scheme in a History of Philosophy from the revival of letters.

This I have employed through the French translation in six volumes.

Buhle, like Tennemann, has very evident obligations to Brucker; but his

own erudition was extensive, and his philosophical acuteness not

inconsiderable.

The history of poetry and eloquence, or fine writing, was published by

Bouterwek, in twelve volumes octavo. Those parts which relate to his own

country, and to Spain and Portugal, have been of more use to me than the

rest. Many of my readers must be acquainted with the Littérature du

Midi, by M. Sismondi; a work written in that flowing and graceful style

which distinguishes the author, and succeeding in all that it seeks to

give--a pleasing and popular, yet not superficial or unsatisfactory,

account of the best authors in the southern languages. We have nothing

historical as to our own poetry but the prolix volumes of Warton. They

have obtained, in my opinion, full as much credit as they deserve.

Without depreciating a book in which so much may be found and which has

been so great a favourite with the literary part of the public, it may

be observed that its errors as to fact, especially in names and dates,

are extraordinarily frequent, and that the criticism, in points of

taste, is not of a very superior kind.

Heeren undertook the history of classical literature--a great

desideratum, which no one had attempted to supply. But, unfortunately,

he has only given an introduction, carrying us down to the close of the

fourteenth century, and a history of the fifteenth. These are so good,

that we must much lament the want of the rest; especially as I am aware

of nothing to fill up the vacuity. Eichhorn, however, is here of

considerable use.

In the history of mathematical science, I have had recourse chiefly to

Montucla and, as far as he conducts us, to Kästner, whose catalogue and

analysis of mathematical works is far more complete, but his own

observations less perspicuous and philosophical. Portal’s History of

Anatomy, and some other books, to which I have always referred, and

which it might be tedious to enumerate, have enabled me to fill a few

pages with what I could not be expected to give from any original

research. But several branches of literature, using the word, as I

generally do, in the most general sense for the knowledge imparted

through books, are as yet deficient in anything that approaches to a

real history of their progress.

The materials of literary history must always be derived in great

measure from biographical collections, those especially which intermix a

certain portion of criticism with mere facts. There are some, indeed,

which are almost entirely of this description. Adrian Baillet, in his

Jugemens des Sçavans, published in 1685, endeavoured to collect the

suffrages of former critics on the merits of all past authors. His

design was only executed in a small part, and hardly extends beyond

grammarians, translators, and poets; the latter but imperfectly. Baillet

gives his quotations in French, and sometimes mingles enough of his own

to raise him above a mere compiler, and to have drawn down the animosity

of some contemporaries. Sir Thomas Pope Blount is a perfectly

unambitious writer of the same class. His Censura Celebriorum Autorum,

published in 1690, contains nothing of his own, except a few short dates

of each author’s life, but diligently brings together the testimonies of

preceding critics. Blount omits no class, nor any age; his arrangement

is nearly chronological, and leads the reader from the earliest records

of literature to his own time. The polite writers of modern Europe, and

the men of science, do not receive their full share of attention; but

this volume, though not, I think, much in request at present, is a very

convenient accession to any scholar’s library.

Bayle’s Dictionary, published in 1697, seems at first sight an

inexhaustible magazine of literary history. Those who are conversant

with it know that it frequently disappoints their curiosity; names of

great eminence are sought in vain, or are very slightly treated; the

reader is lost in episodical notes, perpetually frivolous, and disgusted

with an author who turns away at every moment from what is truly

interesting to some idle dispute of his own time, or some contemptible

indecency. Yet the numerous quotations contained in Bayle, the

miscellaneous copiousness of his erudition, as well as the good

sense and acuteness he can always display when it is his inclination to

do so, render his Dictionary of great value, though, I think, chiefly to

those who have made a tolerable progress in general literature.

The title of a later work by Père Niceron, Mémoires Pour Servir à

l’Histoire des Hommes Illustres de la République des Lettres, avec un

Catalogue Raisonné de leurs Ouvrages, in forty-three volumes 12mo,

published at Paris from 1727 to 1745, announces something rather

different from what it contains. The number of “illustrious men”

recorded by Niceron is about 1600, chiefly of the sixteenth and

seventeenth centuries. The names, as may be anticipated, are frequently

very insignificant; and, in return, not a few of real eminence,

especially when Protestant, and, above all, English, are overlooked, or

erroneously mentioned. No kind of arrangement is observed; it is utterly

impossible to conjecture in what volume of Niceron any article will be

discovered. A succinct biography, though fuller than the mere dates of

Blount, is followed by short judgments on the author’s works, and by a

catalogue of them far more copious, at least, than had been given by any

preceding bibliographer. It is a work of much utility; but the more

valuable parts have been transfused into later publications.

The English Biographical Dictionary was first published in 1761. I speak

of this edition with some regard from its having been the companion of

many youthful hours; but it is rather careless in its general execution.

It is sometimes ascribed to Birch; but I suspect that Heathcote had more

to do with it. After several successive enlargements, an edition of this

Dictionary was published in thirty-two volumes from 1812 to 1817, by

Alexander Chalmers, whose name it now commonly bears. Chalmers was a man

of very slender powers, relatively to the magnitude of such a work; but

his life had been passed in collecting small matters of fact, and he has

added much of this kind to British biography. He inserts, beyond any one

else, the most insignificant names, and quotes the most wretched

authorities. But as the faults of excess, in such collections, are more

pardonable than those of omission, we cannot deny the value of his

Biographical Dictionary, especially as to our own country, which has not

fared well at the hands of foreigners.

Coincident nearly in order of time with Chalmers, but more distinguished

in merit, is the Biographie Universelle. The eminent names appended to a

large proportion of the articles contained in its fifty-two volumes, are

vouchers for the ability and erudition it displays. There is, doubtless,

much inequality in the performance; and we are sometimes disappointed by

a superficial notice where we had a right to expect most. English

literature, though more amply treated than had been usual on the

Continent, and with the benefit of Chalmer’s contemporaneous volumes, is

still not fully appreciated: our chief theological writers, especially,

are passed over almost in silence. There seems, on the other hand, a

redundancy of modern French names; those, above all, who have, even

obscurely and insignificantly been connected with the history of the

Revolution: a fault, if it be one, which is evidently gaining ground in

the supplementary volumes. But I must speak respectfully of a work to

which I owe so much, and without which, probably, I should never have

undertaken the present.

I will not here characterise several works of more limited biography;

among which are the Bibliotheca Hispana Nova of Antonio, the

Biographia Britannica, the Bibliothèque Française of Goujet; still less

is there time to enumerate particular lives, or those histories which

relate to short periods, among the sources of literary knowledge. It

will be presumed, and will appear by my references, that I have employed

such of them as came within my reach. But I am sensible that, in the

great multiplicity of books of this kind, and especially in their

prodigious increase on the Continent of late years, many have been

overlooked from which I might have improved these volumes. The press is

indeed so active, that no year passes without accessions to our

knowledge, even historically considered upon some of the multifarious

subjects which the present volumes embrace. An author who waits till all

requisite materials are accumulated to his hands, is but watching the

stream that will run on for ever; and though I am fully sensible that I

could have much improved what is now offered to the public by keeping it

back for a longer time, I should but then have had to lament the

impossibility of exhausting my subject. Epoiei, the modest phrase of the

Grecian sculptors, but expresses the imperfection that attaches to every

work of literary industry or of philosophical investigation. But I have

other warnings to bind up my sheaves while I may--my own advancing

years, and the gathering in the heavens.

I have quoted, to my recollection, no passage which I have not seen in

its own place; though I may possibly have transcribed in some instances,

for the sake of convenience, from a secondary authority. Without

censuring those who suppress the immediate source of their quotations, I

may justly say that in nothing I have given to the public has it been

practised by myself. But I have now and then inserted in the text

characters of books that I have not read, on the faith of my guides; and

it may be the case that intimation of this has not been always given to

the reader.

It is very likely that omissions, not, I trust, of great consequence,

will be detected; I might in fact say that I am already aware of them;

but perhaps these will be candidly ascribed to the numerous

ramifications of the subject, and the necessity of writing in a

different order from that in which the pages are printed. And I must add

that some omissions have been intentional: an accumulation of petty

facts, and especially of names to which little is attached, fatigues

unprofitably the attention; and as this is very frequent in works that

necessarily demand condensation, and cannot altogether be avoided, it

was desirable to make some sacrifice in order to palliate the

inconvenience. This will be found, among many other instances, in the

account of the Italian learned of the fifteenth century where I might

easily have doubled the enumeration, but with little satisfaction to the

reader.

But, independently of such slight omissions, it will appear that a good

deal is wanting in these volumes which some might expect in a history of

literature. Such a history has often contained so large a proportion of

biography, that a work in which it appears very scantily, or hardly at

all, may seem deficient in necessary information. It might be replied,

that the limits to which I have confined myself, and beyond which it is

not easy perhaps in the present age to obtain readers, would not admit

to this extension; but I may add, that any biography of the authors of

these centuries, which is not servilely compiled from a few known books

of that class, must be far too immense an undertaking for one man,

and besides its extent and difficulty, would have been particularly

irksome to myself, from the waste of time, as I deem it, which an

inquiry into trifling facts entails. I have more scruple about the

omission of extracts from some of the poets and best writers in prose,

without which they can be judged very unsatisfactorily: but in this also

I have been influenced by an unwillingness to multiply my pages beyond a

reasonable limit. But I have, in some instances, at least in the later

periods, gone more largely into analysis of considerable works than has

hitherto been usual. These are not designed to serve as complete

abstracts, or to supersede, instead of exciting, the reader’s industry;

but I have felt that some books of traditional reputation are less fully

known than they deserve.

Some departments of literature are passed over, or partially touched.

Among the former are books relating to particular arts, as agriculture

or painting, or to subjects of merely local interest, as those of

English law. Among the latter is the great and extensive portion of

every library, the historical. Unless where history has been written

with peculiar beauty of language, or philosophical spirit, I have

generally omitted all mention of it: in our researches after truth of

fact, the number of books that possess some value is exceedingly great,

and would occupy a disproportionate space in such a general view of

literature as the present. For a similar reason, I have not given its

numerical share to theology.

It were an impertinence to anticipate, for the sake of obviating, the

possible criticism of the public which has a right to judge, and for

those judgments I have had so much cause to be grateful, nor less so to

dictate how it should read what it is not bound to read at all; but

perhaps I may be allowed to say, that I do not wish this to be

considered as a book of reference on particular topics, in which point

of view it must often appear to disadvantage; and that, if it proves of

any value, it will be as an entire and synoptical work.

INTRODUCTION

TO THE

LITERATURE OF EUROPE

IN THE FIFTEENTH, SIXTEENTH,

AND

SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES.

CHAPTER I.

ON THE GENERAL STATE OF LITERATURE IN THE MIDDLE AGES TO THE END OF

THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.

_Loss of Ancient Learning in the Fall of the Roman Empire--First

Symptoms of its Revival--Improvement in the Twelfth

Century--Universities and Scholastic Philosophy--Origin of Modern

Languages--Early Poetry--Provençal, French, German, and

Spanish--English Language and Literature--Increase of Elementary

Knowledge--Invention of Paper--Roman Jurisprudence--Cultivation of

Classical Literature--Its Decline after the Twelfth Century--Less

visible in Italy--Petrarch._

|Retrospect of learning in middle ages necessary.|

1. Although the subject of these volumes does not comprehend the

literary history of Europe, anterior to the commencement of the

fifteenth century, a period as nearly coinciding as can be expected in

any arbitrary division of time, with what is usually denominated the

revival of letters, it appears necessary to prefix such a general

retrospect of the state of knowledge for some preceding ages, as will

illustrate its subsequent progress. In this, however, the reader is not

to expect a regular history of mediæval literature, which would be

nothing less than the extension of a scheme already, perhaps, too much

beyond my powers of execution.[1]

[1] The subject of the following chapter has been already

treated by me in another work, the History of Europe during the

Middle Ages. I have not thought it necessary to repeat all that is

there said: the reader, if he is acquainted with those volumes, may

consider the ensuing pages partly as supplemental, and partly as

correcting the former where they contain anything inconsistent.

|Loss of learning in fall of Roman empire.|

|Boethius--his Consolation of Philosophy.|

2. Every one is well aware, that the establishment of the barbarian

nations on the ruins of the Roman empire in the West, was accompanied or

followed by an almost universal loss of that learning which had been

accumulated in the Latin and Greek languages, and which we call ancient

or classical; a revolution long prepared by the decline of taste and

knowledge for several preceding ages, but accelerated by public

calamities in the fifth century with overwhelming rapidity. The last of

the ancients, and one who forms a link between the classical period of

literature and that of the Middle Ages, in which he was a favourite

author, is Boethius, a man of fine genius, and interesting both from his

character and his death. It is well known, that, after filling the

dignities of Consul and Senator in the court of Theodoric, he fell a

victim to the jealousy of a sovereign, from whose memory, in many

respects glorious, the stain of that blood has never been effaced. The

Consolation of Philosophy, the chief work of Boethius, was written in

his prison. Few books are more striking from the circumstances of their

production. Last of the classic writers, in style not impure, though

displaying too lavishly that poetic exuberance which had distinguished

the two or three preceding centuries, in elevation of sentiment equal to

any of the philosophers, and mingling a Christian sanctity with

their lessons, he speaks from his prison in the swan-like tones of dying

eloquence. The philosophy that consoled him in bonds, was soon required

in the sufferings of a cruel death. Quenched in his blood, the lamp he

had trimmed with a skilful hand gave no more light; the language of

Tully and Virgil soon ceased to be spoken; and many ages were to pass

away, before learned diligence restored its purity, and the union of

genius with imitation taught a few modern writers to surpass in

eloquence the latinity of Boethius.

|Rapid decline of learning in sixth century.|

3. The downfall of learning and eloquence, after the death of Boethius

in 524, was inconceivably rapid. His contemporary Cassiodorus, Isidore

of Seville, and Martianus Capella, the earliest, but worst, of the

three, by very indifferent compilations, and that encyclopedic method

which Heeren observes to be an usual concomitant of declining

literature, superseded the use of the great ancient writers, with whom,

indeed, in the opinion of Meiners, they were themselves acquainted only

through similar productions of the fourth and fifth centuries. Isidore

speaks of the rhetorical works of Cicero and Quintilian as too diffuse

to be read.[2] The authorities upon which they founded their scanty

course of grammar, logic, and rhetoric were chiefly obscure writers, no

longer extant. But themselves became the oracles of the succeeding

period, wherein the trivium and quadrivium, a course of seven sciences,

introduced in the sixth century, were taught from their jejune

treatises.[3]

[2] Meiners, Vergleichung der sitten, &c., des mittelalters mit denen

unsers Jahrhunderts, 3 vols. Hanover, 1793. Vol. ii p. 333.

Eichhorn, Allgemeine Geschichte der Cultur und Litteratur, vol. ii.

p. 29. Heeren, Geschichte des studium der classischen Litteratur.

Göttingen, 1797. These three books, with the Histoire Littéraire de

la France, Brucker’s History of Philosophy, Turner’s and Henry’s

Histories of England, Muratori’s43d Dissertation, Tiraboschi, and

some few others, who will appear in the notes, are my chief

authorities for the dark ages. But none, in a very short compass,

is equal to the third discourse of Fleury, in the 13th volume of

the 12mo edition of his Ecclesiastical History.

[3] The trivium contained grammar, logic, and rhetoric;

the quadrivium, arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy, as in

these two lines, framed to assist the memory:--

“GRAMM. loquitur; DIA. vera docet; RHET. verba colorat; MUS. canit;

AR. numerat; GEO. ponderat; AST. colit astra.”

But most of these sciences, as such, were hardly taught at all. The

arithmetic, for instance, of Cassiodorus or Capella is nothing but

a few definitions mingled with superstitious absurdities about the

virtues of certain numbers and figures. Meiners, ii. 339. Kästner,

Geschichte der Mathematik, p. 8.

The arithmetic of Cassiodorus occupies little more than two folio

pages, and does not contain one word of the common rules. The

geometry is much the same; in two pages we have some definitions

and axioms, but nothing farther. His logic is longer and better,

extending to sixteen folio pages. The grammar is very short and

trifling, the rhetoric the same.

|A portion remains in the church.|

4. This state of general ignorance lasted, with no very sensible

difference, on a superficial view, for about five centuries, during

which every sort of knowledge was almost wholly confined to the

ecclesiastical order. But among them, though instances of gross

ignorance were exceedingly frequent, the necessity of preserving the

Latin language, in which the Scriptures, the canons, and other

authorities of the church, and the regular liturgies, were written, and

in which alone the correspondence of their well organised hierarchy

could be conducted, kept flowing, in the worst seasons, a slender but

living stream; and though, as has been observed, no great difference may

appear, on a superficial view, between the seventh and eleventh

centuries, it would easily be shown that, after the first prostration of

learning, it was not long in giving signs of germinating afresh, and

that a very slow and gradual improvement might be dated farther back

than is generally believed.[4]

[4] M. Guizot confirms me in a conclusion to which I had previously

come, that the seventh century is the _nadir_ of the human mind in

Europe, and that its movement in advance began before the end of

the next, or, in other words, with Charlemagne. Hist. de la

Civilisation en France, ii. 345. A notion probably is current in

England, on the authority of the older writers, such as Cave or

Robertson, that the greatest darkness was later; which is true as

to England itself. It was in the seventh century that the

barbarians were first tempted to enter the church, and obtain

bishoprics, which had, in the first age after their invasion, been

reserved to Romans. Fleury, p. 18.

|Prejudices of the clergy against profane learning.|

5. Literature was assailed in its downfall by enemies from within as

well as from without. A prepossession against secular learning had taken

hold of those ecclesiastics who gave the tone to the rest; it was

inculcated in the most extravagant degree by Gregory I., the founder, in

a great measure, of the papal supremacy, and the chief authority

in the dark ages;[5] it is even found in Alcuin, to whom so much is due,

and it gave way very gradually in the revival of literature. In some of

the monastic foundations, especially in that of Isidore, though himself

a man of considerable learning, the perusal of heathen authors was

prohibited. Fortunately Benedict, whose order became the most widely

diffused, while he enjoined his brethren to read, copy, and collect

books, was silent as to their nature, concluding, probably, that they

would be wholly religious. This, in course of time, became the means of

preserving and multiplying classical manuscripts.[6]

[5] Gregory has been often charged, on the authority of a passage in

John of Salisbury, with having burned a library of heathen authors.

He has been warmly defended by Tiraboschi, iii. 102. Even if the

assertion of our countryman were more positive, he is of too late

an age to demand much credit. Eichhorn, however, produces vehement

expressions of Gregory’s disregard for learning, and even for the

observance of grammatical rules. ii. 443.

[6] Heeren, p. 59. Eichhorn, ii. 11, 12, 40, 49, 50.

|Their usefulness in preserving it.|

6. If, however, the prejudices of the clergy stood in the way of what we

more esteem than they did, the study of philological literature, it is

never to be forgotten, that but for them the records of that very

literature would have perished. If they had been less tenacious of their

Latin liturgy, of the vulgate translation of Scripture, and of the

authority of the fathers, it is very doubtful whether less superstition

would have grown up, but we cannot hesitate to pronounce, that all

grammatical learning would have been laid aside. The influence of the

church upon learning, partly favourable, partly the reverse, forms the

subject of Eichhorn’s second volume; whose comprehensive views and well

directed erudition, as well as his position in a great protestant

university, give much weight to his testimony. But we should remember

also, that it is, as it were, by striking a balance that we come to this

result; and that, in many respects, the clergy counteracted that

progress of improvement which, in others, may be ascribed to their

exertions.

|First appearances of reviving learning in Ireland and England.|

7. It is not unjust to claim for these islands the honour of having

first withstood the dominant ignorance, and even led the way in the

restoration of knowledge. As early as the sixth century, a little

glimmer of light was perceptible in the Irish monasteries: and in the

next, when France and Italy had sunk in deeper ignorance, they stood,

not quite where national prejudice has sometimes placed them, but

certainly in a very respectable position.[7] That island both drew

students from the Continent, and sent forth men of comparative eminence

into its schools and churches. I do not find, however, that they

contributed much to the advance of secular, and especially of

grammatical learning. This is rather due to England, and to the happy

influence of Theodore, our first primate, an Asiatic Greek by birth,

sent hither by the pope in 668, through whom and his companion Adrian,

some knowledge of the Latin and even Greek languages was propagated in

the Anglo-Saxon church. The Venerable Bede, as he was afterwards styled,

early in the eighth century, surpasses every other name of our ancient

literary annals; and, though little more than a diligent compiler from

older writers, may perhaps be reckoned superior to any man the world (so

low had the east sunk like the west) then possessed. A desire of

knowledge grew up; the school of York, somewhat later, became

respectable, before any liberal education had been established in

France; and from this came Alcuin, a man fully equal to Bede in ability,

though not, probably, in erudition.[8] By his assistance, and that of

one or two Italians, Charlemagne laid in his vast dominions the

foundations of learning, according to the standard of that age, which

dispelled, at least for a time, some part of the gross ignorance wherein

his empire had been enveloped.[9]

[7] Eichhorn, ii. 176, 188. See also the first volume of Moore’s

History of Ireland, where the claims of his country are stated

favourably, and with much learning and industry, but not with

extravagant partiality.

[8] Eichhorn, ii. 188, 207, 263. Hist. Litt. de la France, vols. iii.

and iv. Henry’s History of England, vol. iv. Turner’s History of

Anglo-Saxons. No one, however, has spoken so highly or so fully of

Alcuin’s merits as M. Guizot in his Histoire de la Civilisation en

France, vol. ii. p. 344-385.

[9] Besides the above authors, see, for the merits of Charlemagne as

a restorer of letters, his Life by Gaillard, and Andrés, Origine,

&c., della Litteratura, i. 165.

|Few schools before the age of Charlemagne.|

8. The praise of having originally established schools belongs to some

bishops and abbots of the sixth century. They came in place of the

imperial schools overthrown by the barbarians.[10] In the downfall of

that temporal dominion, a spiritual aristocracy was providentially

raised up, to save from extinction the remains of learning, and religion

itself. Some of those schools seem to have been preserved in the south

of Italy, though merely, perhaps, for elementary instruction. But in

France the barbarism of the later Merovingian period was so complete,

that, before the reign of Charlemagne, all liberal studies had come to

an end.[11] Nor was Italy in a much better state at his accession,

though he called two or three scholars from thence to his literary

councils: the libraries were destroyed, the schools chiefly closed;

wherever the Lombard dominion extended, illiteracy was its

companion.[12]

[10] Eichhorn, ii. 5, 45. Guizot (vol. ii. p. 116) gives a list of

the episcopal schools in France before Charlemagne.

[11] Ante ipsum Carolum regem in Galliâ nullum fuerat studium

liberalium artium. Monachus Engolimensis, apud Launoy de Scholis

celebrioribus.

[12] Tiraboschi. Eichhorn. Heeren.

|Beneficial effects of those established by him.|

9. The cathedral and conventual schools, created or restored by

Charlemagne, became the means of preserving that small portion of

learning which continued to exist. They flourished most, having had time

to produce their fruits, under his successors, Louis the Debonair,

Lothaire, and Charles the Bald.[13] It was, doubtless, a fortunate

circumstance, that the revolution of language had now gone far enough to

render Latin unintelligible without grammatical instruction. Alcuin and

others who, like him, endeavoured to keep ignorance out of the church,

were anxious, we are told, to restore orthography; or, in other words,

to prevent the written Latin from following the corruptions of speech.

They brought back, also, some knowledge of better classical authors than

had been in use. Alcuin’s own poems could at least not have been written

by one unacquainted with Virgil:[14] the faults are numerous, but the

style is not always inelegant; and from this time, though quotations

from the Latin poets, especially Ovid and Virgil, and sometimes from

Cicero, are not very frequent, they occur sufficiently to show that

manuscripts had been brought to this side of the Alps. They were,

however, very rare: Italy was still, as might be expected, the chief

depository of ancient writings; and Gerbert speaks of the facility of

obtaining them in that country.[15]

[13] The reader may find more of the history of these schools in a

little treatise by Launoy, De Scholis celebrioribus a Car. Mag. et

post Car. Mag. instauratis; also in Hist. Litt. de la France, vols.

iii. and iv.; Crevier, Hist. de l’Université de Paris, vol. i.;

Brucker’s Hist. Phil. iii.; Muratori, Dissert. xliii.; Tiraboschi,

iii. 158; Eichhorn, 261, 295; Heeren, and Fleury.

[14] A poem by Alcuin, De Pontificibus Ecclesiæ Eboracensis, is

published in Gale’s xv. Scriptores, vol. iii. Henry quotes a

passage from this, describing the books at York, in which we read

this line--

Acer Atistoteles, rhetor _atque_ Tullius ingens. Such a verse

could not have come from Alcuin; though he errs in the quantity of

syllables, where memory alone could set him right, he was not

ignorant of common rules. It is found in Gale:

Rhetor _quoque_ Tullius ingens.

[15] Nosti quot scriptores in urbibus aut in agris Italise passim

habeantur. Gerbert, Epist. 130, apud Heeren, p. 166.

|The tenth century more progressive than usually supposed.|

10. The tenth century used to be reckoned by mediæval historians the

darkest part of this intellectual night. It was the iron age, which they

vie with one another in describing as lost in the most consummate

ignorance. This, however, is much rather applicable to Italy and

England, than to France and Germany. The former were both in a

deplorable state of barbarism. And there are, doubtless, abundant proofs

of ignorance in every part of Europe. But, compared with the seventh and

eighth centuries, the tenth was an age of illumination in France. And

Meiners, who judged the middle ages somewhat, perhaps, too severely, but

with a penetrating and comprehensive observation, of which there had

been few instances, has gone so far as to say, that “in no age, perhaps,

did Germany possess more learned and virtuous churchmen of the episcopal

order, than in the latter half of the tenth, and beginning of the

eleventh century.”[16] Eichhorn points out indications of a more

extensive acquaintance with ancient writers in several French and German

ecclesiastics of this period.[17] In the eleventh century, this

continued to increase; and, towards its close, we find more vigorous and

extensive attempts at throwing off the yoke of barbarous ignorance, and

either retrieving what had been lost of ancient learning, or supplying

its place by the original powers of the mind.

[16] Vergleichung der Sitten, ii. 384. The eleventh century he holds

far more advanced in learning than the sixth. Books were read in

the latter which no one looked at in the earlier. P. 399.

[17] Allg. Gesch. ii. 335, 398.

|Want of genius in the dark ages.|

11. It is the most striking circumstance in the literary annals of the

dark ages, that they seem to us still more deficient in native,

than in acquired ability. The mere ignorance of letters has sometimes

been a little exaggerated, and admits of certain qualifications; but a

tameness and mediocrity, a servile habit of merely compiling from

others, runs through the writers of these centuries. It is not only that

much was lost, but that there was nothing to compensate for it; nothing

of original genius in the province of imagination; and but two

extraordinary men, Scotus Erigena and Gerbert, may be said to stand out

from the crowd in literature and philosophy. It must be added, as to the

former, that his writings contain, at least in such extracts as I have

seen, unintelligible rhapsodies of mysticism, in which, perhaps, he

should not even have the credit of originality. Eichhorn, however,

bestows great praise on Scotus; and the modern historians of philosophy

treat him with respect.[18]

[18] Extracts from John Scotus Erigena will be found in Brucker, Hist.

Philosophiæ, vol. iii. p. 619; in Meiners, ii. 373; or more fully,

in Turner’s History of England, vol. i. 447, and Guizot, Hist. de

la Civilisation en France, iii. 137, 178. The reader may consult

also Buhle, Tennemann, and the article on Thomas Aquinas in the

Encyclopædia Metropolitana, ascribed to Dr. Hampden. But, perhaps,

Mr. Turner is the only one of them who has seen, or at least read

the metaphysical treatise of John Scotus, entitled De Divisione

Naturæ, in which alone we find his philosophy. It is very rare out

of England.

|Prevalence of bad taste.|

12. It would be a strange hypothesis, that no man endowed with superior

gifts of nature lived in so many ages. Though the pauses of her

fertility in these high endowments are more considerable, I am disposed

to think, that any previous calculation of probabilities would lead us

to anticipate, we could not embrace so extreme a paradox. Of military

skill, indeed, and civil prudence, we are not now speaking. But, though

no man appeared of genius sufficient to burst the fetters imposed by

ignorance and bad taste, some there must have been, who, in a happier

condition of literature, would have been its legitimate pride. We

perceive, therefore, in the deficiencies of these writers, the effect

which an oblivion of good models, and the prevalence of a false standard

of merit, may produce in repressing the natural vigour of the mind.

Their style, where they aim at eloquence, is inflated and redundant,

formed upon the model of the later fathers, whom they chiefly read; a

feeble imitation of that vicious rhetoric which had long overspread the

latinity of the empire.[19]

[19] Fleury, l. xlv. § 19, and Troisième Discours (in vol. xiii.),

p. 6. Turner’s History of England, iv. 137, and History of

Anglo-Saxons, iii. 403. It is sufficient to look at any extracts

from these writers of the dark ages to see the justice of this

censure. Fleury, at the conclusion of his excellent third

discourse, justly and candidly apologises for these five ages, as

not wholly destitute of learning, and far less of virtue. They have

been, he says, outrageously depreciated by the humanists of the

sixteenth century, who thought good Latin superior to every thing

else; and by protestant writers, who laid the corruptions of the

church on its ignorance. Yet there is an opposite extreme into

which those who are disgusted with the commonplaces of superficial

writers sometimes run; an estimation of men by their

_relative_ superiority above their own times, so as to forget

their position in comparison with a fixed standard.

An eminent living writer, who has carried the philosophy of

history, perhaps, as far as any other, has lately endeavoured, at

considerable length, to vindicate in some measure the intellectual

character of this period. (Guizot, vol. ii. p. 123-224.) It is with

reluctance that I ever differ from M. Guizot; but the passages

adduced by him, (especially if we exclude those of the fifth

century, the poems of Avitus, and the homilies of Cæsarius,) do not

appear adequate to redeem the age by any signs of genius they

display. It must always be a question of degree; for no one is

absurd enough to deny the existence of a relative superiority of

talent, or the power of expressing moral emotions, as well as

relating facts, with some warmth and energy. The legends of saints,

an extensive though quite neglected portion of the literature of

the dark ages, to which M. Guizot has had the merit of directing

our attention, may probably contain many passages, like those he

has quoted, which will be read with interest; and it is no more

than justice, that he has given them in French, rather than in that

half-barbarous Latin, which, though not essential to the author’s

mind, never fails, like an unbecoming dress, to show the gifts of

nature at a disadvantage. But the questions still recur: Is this in

itself excellent? Would it indicate, wherever we should meet with

it, powers of a high order? Do we not make a tacit allowance in

reading it, and that very largely, for the mean condition in which

we know the human mind to have been placed at the period? Does it

instruct us, or give us pleasure?

In what M. Guizot has said of the moral influence of these

legends, in harmonising a lawless barbarian race (p. 157), I

should be sorry not to concur: it is a striking instance of that

candid and catholic spirit with which he has always treated the

mediæval church.

|Deficiency of poetical talent.|

13. It might naturally be asked, whether fancy and feeling were extinct

among the people, though a false taste might reign in the

cloister. Yet it is here that we find the most remarkable deficiency,

and could appeal scarce to the vaguest tradition, or the most doubtful

fragment, in witness of any poetical talent worthy of notice, except a

very little in the Teutonic languages. The Anglo-Saxon poetry has

occasionally a wild spirit, rather impressive, though it is often turgid

and always rude. The Scandinavian, such as the well-known song of Regner

Lodbrog, if that be as old as the period before us, which is now denied,

displays a still more poetical character. Some of the earliest German

poetry, the song on the victory of Louis III. over the Normans in 883,

and, still more, the poem in praise of Hanno, archbishop of Cologne, who

died in 1075, are warmly extolled by Herder and Bouterwek.[20] In the

Latin verse of these centuries, we find, at best, a few lines among

many, which show the author to have caught something of a classical

style: the far greater portion is very bad.[21]

|Imperfect state of language may account for this.|

14. The very imperfect state of language, as an instrument of refined

thought, in the transition of Latin to the French, Castilian, and

Italian tongues, seems the best means of accounting in any satisfactory

manner for this stagnation of the poetical faculties. The delicacy that

distinguishes in words the shades of sentiment, the grace that brings

them to the soul of the reader with the charm of novelty united to

clearness, could not be attainable in a colloquial jargon, the offspring

of ignorance, and indeterminate possibly in its forms, which those who

possessed any superiority of education would endeavour to avoid. We

shall soon have occasion to advert again to this subject.

[20] Herder, Zerstreute Blätter, vol. v. p. 169, 184. Heinsius,

Lehrbuch der Deutschen Sprachwissenschaft, iv. 29. Bouterwek

Geschichte der Poesie und Beredsamkeit, vol. ix. p. 78, 82. The

author is unknown; aber dem unbekannten sichert sein werk die

unsterblichkeit, says the latter critic. One might raise a question

as to the capacity of an anonymous author to possess immortal fame.

Nothing equal to this poem, he says occurs in the earlier German

poetry: it is an outpouring of genius, not without faults, but full

of power and feeling: the dialect is still Frankish, but approaches

to Swabian. Herder calls it “a truly Pindaric song.” He has given

large extracts from it in the volume above quoted, which glows with

his own fine sense of beauty.

[21] Tiraboschi supposes Latin versifiers to have been common in Italy.

Le Città al pari che le campagne risonavan di versi. iii. 207.

The specimens he afterwards produces, p. 219, are miserable.

Hroswitha, abbess of Gandersheim, has, perhaps, the greatest

reputation among these Latin poets. She wrote, in the tenth

century, sacred comedies in imitation of Terence, which I have not

seen, and other poetry which I saw many years since, and thought

very bad. Alcuin has now and then a Virgilian cadence.

|Improvement at beginning of twelfth century.|

|Leading circumstances in progress of learning.|

15. At the beginning of the twelfth century, we enter upon a new

division in the literary history of Europe. From this time we may deduce

a line of men, conspicuous, according to the standard of their times, in

different walks of intellectual pursuit, and the commencement of an

interesting period, the later Middle Ages; in which, though ignorance

was very far from being cleared away, the natural powers of the mind

were developed in considerable activity. We shall point out separately

the most important circumstances of this progress; not all of them

concurrent in efficacy with each other, for they were sometimes opposed,

but all tending to arouse Europe from indolence, and to fix its

attention on literature. These are, 1st. The institution of

universities, and the methods pursued in them: 2d. The cultivation of

the modern languages, followed by the multiplication of books, and the

extension of the art of writing: 3d. The investigation of the Roman law:

And lastly, the return to the study of the Latin language in its ancient

models of purity. We shall thus come down to the fifteenth century, and

judge better of what is meant by the revival of letters, when we

apprehend with more exactness their previous condition.

|Origin of the university of Paris.|

16. Among the Carlovingian schools it is doubtful whether we can reckon

one at Paris; and though there are some traces of public instruction in

that city about the end of the ninth century, it is not certain that we

can assume it to be more ancient. For two hundred years more, indeed, it

can only be said, that some persons appear to have come to Paris for the

purposes of study.[22] The commencement of this famous university, like

that of Oxford, has no record. But it owes its first reputation to the

sudden spread of what is usually called the scholastic philosophy.

[22] Crevier, i. 13-75.

|Modes of treating the science of theology.|

17. There had been hitherto two methods of treating theological

subjects: one that of the fathers, who built them on scripture,

illustrated and interpreted by their own ingenuity, and in some measure

also on the traditions and decisions of the church; the other, which is

said by the Benedictines of St. Maur to have grown up about the

eighth century (though Mosheim seems to refer it to the sixth), using

the fathers themselves, that is the chief writers of the first six

hundred years, who appear now to have acquired that distinctive title of

honour, as authority, conjointly with scripture and ecclesiastical

determinations, by means of extracts or compends of their writings.

Hence about this time we find more frequent instances of a practice

which had begun before--that of publishing _Loci communes_ or

_Catenæ patrum_, being only digested extracts from the authorities

under systematic heads.[23] Both these methods were usually called

positive theology.

[23] Fleury, 3me discours. p. 48. (Hist. Ecclés. vol. xiii. 12mo ed.)

Hist. Litt. de la France, vii. 147. Mosheim, in Cent. vi. et post.

Muratori, Antichità Italiane, dissert. xliii. p. 610. In this

dissertation, it may be observed by the way, Muratori gives the

important fragment of Caius, a Roman presbyter before the end of

the second century, on the canon of the New Testament, which has

not been quoted, as far as I know, by any English writer, nor,

which is more remarkable, by Michaelis. It will be found in

Eichhorn, Einleitung in das Neue Testament, iv. 35. The Latinity is

very indifferent for the second century; yet it cannot be much

later, and may possibly be suspected of being a translation from a

Greek original.

Upon this great change in the theology of the church, which

consisted principally in establishing the authority of the fathers,

the reader may see M. Guizot, Hist. de la Civilisation, iii. 121.

There seem to be but two causes for this: the one, a consciousness

of ignorance and inferiority to men of so much talent as Augustin

and a few others; the other, a constantly growing jealousy of the

free exercise of reason, and a determination to keep up unity of

doctrine.

|Scholastic philosophy; its origin.|

|Roscelin.|

18. The scholastic theology was a third method; it was in its general

principle, an alliance between faith and reason; an endeavour to arrange

the orthodox system of the church, such as authority had made it,

according to the rules and methods of the Aristotelian dialectics, and

sometimes upon premises supplied by metaphysical reasoning. Lanfranc and

Anselm made much use of this method in the controversy with Berenger as

to transubstantiation; though they did not carry it so far as their

successors in the next century.[24] The scholastic philosophy seems

chiefly to be distinguished from this theology by a larger infusion of

metaphysical reasoning, or by its occasional inquiries into subjects not

immediately related to revealed articles of faith.[25] The origin of

this philosophy, fixed by Buhle and Tennemann in the ninth century, or

the age of Scotus Erigena, has been brought down by Tiedemann, Meiners,

and Hampden,[26] so low as the thirteenth. But Roscelin of Compiegne, a

little before 1100, may be accounted so far the founder of the

schoolmen, that the great celebrity of their disputations, and the rapid

increase of students, is to be traced to the influence of his theories,

though we have no proof that he ever taught at Paris. Roscelin

also, having been the first to revive the famous question as to the

reality of universal ideas, marks, on every hypothesis, a new era in the

history of that philosophy. The principle of the schoolmen in their

investigations was the expanding, developing, and if possible

illustrating and clearing from objection, the doctrines of natural and

revealed religion in a dialectical method and by dint of the subtlest

reasoning. The questions which we deem altogether metaphysical, such as

that concerning universal ideas, became theological in their hands.[27]

[24] Hist. Litt. de la France, ubi suprà. Tennemann, Manuel de l’Hist.

de la Philosophie, i. 332. Crevier, i. 100. Andrés, ii. 15.

[25] A Jesuit of the sixteenth century thus shortly and clearly

distinguishes the positive from the scholastic, and both from

natural or metaphysical theology. At nos theologiam scholasticam

dicimus quæ certiori methodo et rationibus imprimis ex divina

scriptura ac traditionibus seu decretis patrum in conciliis

definitis veritatem eruit, ac discutiendo comprobat. Quod cum in

scholis præcipue argumentando comparetur, id nomen sortita est.

Quamobrem differt a positiva theologia, non re sed modo,

quemadmodum item alia ratione non est eadem cum naturali theologia,

quo nomine philosophi metaphysicen nominarunt. Positiva igitur non

ita res disputandas proponit, sed pæne sententiam ratam et firmam

ponit, præcipue in pietatem incumbens. Versatur autem et ipsa in

explicatione Scripturæ sacræ, traditionum, conciliorum et sanctorum

patrum. Naturalis porro theologia Dei naturam per naturæ argumenta

et rationes inquirit, cum supernaturalis, quam scholasticam

dicimus, Dei ejusdem naturam, vim, proprietates, cæterasque res

divinas per ea principia vestigat, quæ sunt hominibus revelata

divinitas. Possevin, Bibliotheca Selecta, l. 3. c. i.

Both positive and scholastic theology were much indebted to Peter

Lombard, whose Liber Sententiarum is a digest of propositions

extracted from the fathers, with no attempt to reconcile them. It

was therefore a prodigious magazine of arms for disputation.

[26] The first of these, according to Tennemann, begins the list of

schoolmen with Hales; the two latter agree in conferring that

honour on Albertus Magnus. Brucker inclines to Roscelin, and has

been followed by others. It may be added, that Tennemann divides

the scholastic philosophy into four periods, which Roscelin, Hales,

Ockham, and the sixteenth century terminate; and Buhle into three,

ending with Roscelin, Albertus Magnus, and the sixteenth century.

It is evident, however, that, by beginning the scholastic series

with Roscelin, we exclude Lanfranc and even Anselm; the latter of

whom was certainly a deep metaphysician; since to him we owe the

subtle argument for the existence of a Deity, which Des Cartes

afterwards revived. Buhle, 679. This argument was answered at the

time by one Gaunelo; so that metaphysical reasonings were not

unknown in the eleventh century. Tennemann, 344.

[27] Brucker, though he contains some useful extracts, and tolerable

general views, was not well versed in the scholastic writers.

Meiners (in his Comparison of the Middle Ages) is rather

superficial as to their philosophy, but presents a lively picture

of the schoolmen in relation to literature and manners. He has

also, in the Transactions of the Göttingen Academy, vol. xii. pp.

26-47, given a succinct, but valuable, sketch of the Nominalist and

Realist Controversy. Tenneman, with whose Manuel de la Philosophie

alone I am conversant, is supposed to have gone very deeply into

the subject in his larger history of philosophy. Buhle appears

superficial. Dr. Hampden, in his Life of Thomas Aquinas, and view

of the scholastic philosophy, published in the Encyclopædia

Metropolitana, has the merit of having been the only Englishman,

past or present, so far as I know, since the revival of letters,

who has penetrated far into the wilderness of scholasticism. Mr.

Sharon Turner has given some extracts in the fourth volume of his

History of England.

|Progress of scholasticism; increase of university of Paris.|

19. Next in order of time to Roscelin came William of Champeaux, who

opened a school of logic at Paris in 1109; and the university can only

deduce the regular succession of its teachers from that time.[28] But

his reputation was soon eclipsed, and his hearers drawn away by a more

potent magician, Peter Abelard, who taught in the schools of Paris in

the second decade of the twelfth century. Wherever Abelard retired, his

fame and his disciples followed him; in the solitary walls of the

Paraclete, as in the thronged streets of the capital.[29] And the

impulse given was so powerful, the fascination of a science which now

appears arid and unproductive was so intense, that from this time for

many generations it continued to engage the most intelligent and active

minds. Paris, about the middle of the twelfth century, in the words of

the Benedictines of St. Maur, to whom we owe the Histoire Littéraire de

la France, was another Athens; the number of students (hyperbolically

speaking, as we must presume) exceeding that of the citizens. This

influx of scholars induced Philip Augustus, some time afterwards, to

enlarge the boundaries of the city; and this again brought a fresh

harvest of students, for whom, in the former limits, it had been

difficult to find lodgings. Paris was called, as Rome had been, the

country of all the inhabitants of the world, and we may add, as, for

very different reasons, it still claims to be.[30]

[28] Crevier, i. 3.

[29] Hist. Litt. de la France, vol. xii. Brucker, iii. 750.

[30] Hist. Litt. de la France, ix. 78. Crevier, i. 274.

|Universities founded.|

|Oxford.|

20. Colleges with endowments for poor scholars were founded in the

beginning of the thirteenth century, or even before, at Paris and

Bologna, as they were afterwards at Oxford and Cambridge, by munificent

patrons of letters; charters incorporating the graduates and students

collectively under the name of universities were granted by sovereigns,

with privileges perhaps too extensive, but such as indicated the dignity

of learning, and the countenance it received.[31] It ought, however, to

be remembered, that these foundations were not the cause, but the effect

of that increasing thirst for knowledge, or the semblance of knowledge,

which had anticipated the encouragement of the great. The schools of

Charlemagne were designed to lay the basis of a learned education, for

which there was at that time no sufficient desire.[32] But in the

twelfth century, the impetuosity with which men rushed to that source of

what they deemed wisdom, the great university of Paris, did not depend

upon academical privileges or eleemosynary stipends, which came

afterwards, though these were undoubtedly very effectual in keeping it

up. The university created patrons, and was not created by them. And

this may be said also of Oxford and Cambridge in their incorporate

character, whatever the former may have owed, if in fact it owed

anything, to the prophetic munificence of Alfred. Oxford was a school of

great resort in the reign of Henry II., though its first charter was

only granted by Henry III. Its earlier history is but obscure, and

depends chiefly on a suspicious passage in Ingulfus, against which we

must set the absolute silence of other writers.[33] It became in the

thirteenth century second only to Paris in the multitude of its

students, and the celebrity of its scholastic disputations. England

indeed, and especially through Oxford, could show more names of the

first class in this line than any other country.[34]

[31] Fleury, xvii. 13, 17. Crevier, Tiraboschi, &c. A University,

universitas doctorum et scholarium, was so called either from its

incorporation, or from its professing to teach all subjects, as

some have thought. Meiners, ii. 405. Fleury, xvii. 15. This

excellent discourse of Fleury, the fifth, relates to the

ecclesiastical literature of the later middle ages.

[32] These schools, established by the Carlovingian princes in

convents and cathedrals, declined, as it was natural to expect,

with the rise of the universities. Meiners, ii. 406. Those of

Paris, Oxford, and Bologna contained many thousand students.

[33] Giraldus Cambrensis, about 1180, seems the first unequivocal

witness to the resort of students to Oxford, as an established seat

of instruction. But it is certain that Vacarius read there on the

civil law in 1149, which affords a presumption that it was already

assuming the character of a university. John of Salisbury, I think,

does not mention it. In a former work, I gave more credence to its

foundation by Alfred than I am now inclined to do. Bologna, as well

as Paris, was full of English students about 1200. Meiners, ii. 428.

[34] Wood expatiates on what he thought the glorious age of the

university. “What university, I pray, can produce an invincible

Hales, an admirable Bacon, an excellent well-grounded Middleton, a

subtle Scotus, an approved Burley, a resolute Baconthorpe, a

singular Ockham, a solid and industrious Holcot, and a profound

Bradwardin? all which persons flourished within the compass of one

century. I doubt that neither Paris, Bologna, or Rome, that grand

mistress of the Christian world, or any place else, can do what the

renowned Bellosite (Oxford) hath done. And without doubt all

impartial men may receive it for an undeniable truth, that the most

subtle arguing in school divinity did take its beginning in England

and from Englishmen; and that also from thence it went to Paris,

and other parts of France, and at length into Italy, Spain, and

other nations, as is by one observed. So that though Italy boasteth

that Britain takes her Christianity first from Rome, England may

truly maintain that from her (immediately by France) Italy first

received her school divinity.” Vol. i. p. 159, A.D. 1168.

|Collegiate foundations not derived from the Saracens.|

21. Andrés is inclined to derive the institution of collegiate

foundations in universities from the Saracens. He finds no trace of

these among the ancients; while in several cities of Spain, as Cordova,

Granada, Malaga, colleges for learned education both existed and

obtained great renown. These were sometimes unconnected with each other,

though in the same city, nor had they, of course, those privileges which

were conferred in Christendom. They were therefore more like ordinary

schools of gymnasia than universities; and it is difficult to perceive

that they suggested anything peculiarly characteristic of the latter

institutions, which are much more reasonably considered as the

development of a native germ, planted by a few generous men, above all

by Charlemagne, in that inclement season which was passing away.[35]

[35] Andrés, ii. 129.

|Scholastic philosophy promoted by Mendicant Friars.|

22. The institution of the Mendicant orders of friars, soon after the

beginning of the thirteenth century, caused a fresh accession, in

enormous numbers, to the ecclesiastical state, and gave encouragement to

the scholastic philosophy. Less acquainted, generally, with grammatical

literature than the Benedictine monks, less accustomed to collect and

transcribe books, the disciples of Francis and Dominic betook themselves

to disputation, and found a substitute for learning in their own

ingenuity and expertness.[36] The greatest of the schoolmen were the

Dominican Thomas Aquinas, and the Franciscan Duns Scotus. They were

founders of rival sects, which wrangled with each other for two or three

centuries. But the authority of their writings, which were incredibly

voluminous, especially those of the former,[37] impeded, in some

measure, the growth of new men; and we find, after the middle of the

fourteenth century, a diminution of eminent names in the series of the

schoolmen, the last of whom, that is much remembered in modern times,

was William Ockham.[38] He revived the sect of the Nominalists,

formerly instituted by Roscelin, and, with some important variances of

opinion, brought into credit by Abelard, but afterwards overpowered by

the great weight of leading schoolmen on the opposite side,--that of the

Realists. The disciples of Ockham, as well as himself, being politically

connected with the party in Germany unfavourable to the high pretensions

of the Court of Rome, though they became very numerous in the

universities, passed for innovators in ecclesiastical, as well as

philosophical principles. Nominalism itself indeed was reckoned by the

adverse sect cognate to heresy. No decline however seems to have been as

yet perceptible in the spirit of disputation, which probably, at the end

of the fourteenth century, went on as eagerly at Paris, Oxford, and

Salamanca, the great scenes of that warfare, as before; and which, in

that age, gained much ground in Germany, through the establishment of

several universities.

[36] Meiners, ii. 615, 629.

[37] The works of Thomas Aquinas are published in seventeen volumes

folio; Rome, 1570; those of Duns Scotus in twelve; Lyon, 1639. It

is presumed that much was taken down from their oral lectures; some

part of these volumes is of doubtful authenticity. Meiners, ii.

718. Biogr. Univ.

[38] “In them (Scotus and Ockham), and in the later schoolmen

generally, down to the period of the reformation, there is more of

the parade of logic, a more formal examination of arguments, a more

burthensome importunity of syllogising, with less of the

philosophical power of arrangement and distribution of the subject

discussed. The dryness again irreparable from the scholastic method

is carried to excess in the later writers, and perspicuity of style

is altogether neglected.” Encyclopædia Metropol. part xxxvii. p. 805

The introduction of this excess of logical subtlety, carried to the

most trifling sophistry, is ascribed by Meiners to Petrus Hispanus

afterwards Pope John XXI., who died in 1271. ii. 705. Several

curious specimens of scholastic folly are given by him in this

place. They brought a discredit upon the name, which has adhered to

it, and involved men of fine genius, such as Aquinas himself, in

the common reproach.

The barbarism of style, which amounted almost to a new language,

became more intolerable in Scotus and his followers than it had

been in the older schoolmen. Meiners, 722. It may be alleged, in

excuse of this, that words are meant to express precise ideas; and

that it was as impossible to write metaphysics in good Latin, as

the modern naturalists have found it to describe plants and

animals.

|Character of this philosophy.|

|It prevails least in Italy.|

23. Tenneman has fairly stated the good and bad of the scholastic

philosophy. It gave rise to a great display of address, subtlety, and

sagacity in the explanation and distinction of abstract ideas, but at

the same time to many trifling and minute speculations, to a contempt of

positive and particular knowledge, and to much unnecessary

refinement.[39] Fleury well observes, that the dry technical style of

the schoolmen, affecting a geometrical method and closeness, is in fact

more prolix and tedious, than one more natural, from its formality in

multiplying objections and answers.[40] And as their reasonings commonly

rest on disputable postulates, the accuracy they affect is of no sort of

value. But their chief offences were the interposing obstacles to the

revival of polite literature, and to the free expansion of the mind.

Italy was the land where the schoolmen had least influence; many of the

Italians who had a turn for those discussions repaired to Paris,[41] and

it was accordingly from Italy that the light of philological learning

spread over Europe. Public schools of theology were not opened in Italy

till after 1360.[42] Yet we find the disciples of Averroes numerous in

the university of Padua about that time.

[39] Manuel de la Philosophie, i. 337. Eichhorn, ii. 396.

[40] See 5me discours, xvii. 30-50.

[41] Tiraboschi, v. 115.

[42] Id. 137, 160. De Sade, Vie de Pétrarque, iii. 757.

|Literature in modern languages.|

24. II. The universities were chiefly employed upon this scholastic

theology and metaphysics, with the exception of Bologna, which dedicated

its attention to the civil law, and of Montpelier, already famous as a

school of medicine. The laity in general might have remained in as gross

barbarity as before, while topics so removed from common utility were

treated in an unknown tongue. We must therefore look to the rise of a

truly native literature in the several languages of western Europe, as a

more essential cause of its intellectual improvement; and this will

render it necessary to give a sketch of the origin and early progress of

those languages and that new literature.

|Origin of the French, Spanish, and Italian languages.|

25. No one can require to be informed, that the Italian, Spanish, and

French languages are the principal of many dialects deviating from each

other in the gradual corruption of the Latin, once universally spoken by

the subjects of Rome in her western provinces. They have undergone this

process of change in various degrees, but always from similar causes;

partly from the retention of barbarous words belonging to their

aboriginal languages, or the introduction of others through the

settlement of the northern nations in the empire; but in a far greater

proportion, from ignorance of grammatical rules, or from vicious

pronunciation and orthography. It has been the labour of many

distinguished writers to trace the source and channels of these streams

which have supplied both the literature and the common speech of the

south of Europe; and perhaps not much will be hereafter added to

researches which, in the scarcity of extant documents, can never be

minutely successful. Du Cange, who led the way in the admirable preface

to his Glossary; Le Bœuf, and Bonamy, in several memoirs among the

transactions of the Academy of Inscriptions about the middle of

the last century; Muratory, in his 32d, 33d, and 40th dissertation on

Italian antiquities; and, with more copious evidence and successful

industry than any other, M. Raynouard, in the first and sixth volume of

his Choix des Poesies des Troubadours, have collected as full a history

of the formation of these languages as we could justly require.

|Corruption of colloquial Latin in the lower empire.|

26. The pure Latin language, as we read it in the best ancient authors,

possesses a complicated syntax, and many elliptical modes of expression

which give vigour and elegance to style, but are not likely to be

readily caught by the people. If, however, the citizens of Rome had

spoken it with entire purity, it is to be remembered, that Latin, in the

later times of the republic, or under the empire, was not like the Greek

of Athens, or the Tuscan of Florence, the idiom of a single city, but a

language spread over countries in which it was not originally

vernacular, and imposed by conquest upon many parts of Italy, as it was

afterwards upon Spain and Gaul. Thus we find even early proofs, that

solecisms of grammar, as well as barbarous phrases, or words

unauthorised by use of polite writers, were very common in Rome itself;

and in every succeeding generation, for the first centuries after the

Christian æra, these became more frequent and inevitable. A vulgar Roman

dialect, called _quotidianus_ by Quintilian, _pedestris_ by

Vegetius, _usualis_ by Sidonius, is recognised as distinguishable

from the pure Latinity to which we give the name of classical. But the

more ordinary appellation of this inferior Latin was _rusticus_; it

was the country language or _patois_, corrupted in every manner,

and from the popular want of education, incapable of being restored,

because it was not perceived to be erroneous.[43] Whatever may have been

the case before the fall of the Western Empire, we have reason to

believe that in the sixth century the colloquial Latin had undergone, at

least in France, a considerable change even with the superior class of

ecclesiastics. Gregory of Tours confesses that he was habitually falling

into that sort of error, the misplacing inflexions and prepositions,

which constituted the chief original difference of the rustic tongue

from pure Latinity. In the opinion, indeed, of Raynouard, if we take his

expressions in their natural meaning, the Romance language, or that

which afterwards was generally called Provençal, is as old as the

establishment of the Franks in Gaul. But this is, perhaps, not

reconcileable with the proofs we have of a longer continuance of Latin.

In Italy, it seems probable that the change advanced more slowly.

Gregory the Great, however, who has been reckoned as inveterate an enemy

of learning as ever lived, speaks with superlative contempt of a regard

to grammatical purity in writing. It was a crime in his eyes for a

clergyman to teach grammar; yet the number of laymen who were competent

or willing to do so had become very small.

[43] Du Cange, preface, pp. 13, 29. Rusticum igitur sermonem non

humiliorem paulo duntaxat, et qui sublimi opponitur, appellabant;

sed eum etiam, qui magis reperet, barbarismis solæcismisque

scateret, quam apposite Sidonius squamam sermonis Celtici, &c.,

vocat.--Rusticum, qui nullis vel grammaticæ vel orthographiæ

legibus astringitur. This is nearly a definition of the early

Romance language; it was Latin without grammar or orthography.

The squama sermonis Celtici, mentioned by Sidonius, has led Gray,

in his valuable remarks on rhyme, vol. ii. p. 53, as it has some

others, into the erroneous notion that a real Celtic dialect, such

as Cæsar found in Gaul, was still spoken. But this is incompatible

with the known history of the French language; and Sidonius is one

of those loose declamatory writers, whose words are never to be

construed in their proper meaning: the common fault of Latin

authors from the third century. Celticus sermo was the patois of

Gaul, which, having once been Gallia Celtica, he still called such.

That a few proper names, or similar words in French are Celtic, is

well known.

Quintilian has said, that a vicious orthography must bring on a

vicious pronunciation. Quod male scribitur, male etiam dici necesse

est. But the converse of this is still more true, and was in fact

the great cause of giving the new Romance language its

_visible_ form.

27. It may render this more clear, if we mention a few of the growing

corruptions, which have in fact transformed the Latin into French and

the sister tongues.--The prepositions were used with no regard to the

proper inflexions of nouns and verbs. These were known so inaccurately,

and so constantly put one for another, that it was necessary to have

recourse to prepositions instead of them. Thus _de_ and _ad_ were made

to express the genitive and dative cases, which is common in charters

from the sixth to the tenth century. It is a real fault in the Latin

language, that it wants both the definite and indefinite article; _ille_

and _unus_, especially the former, were called in to help this

deficiency. In the forms of Marculfus, published towards the end of the

seventh century, _ille_ continually occurs as an article; and it appears

to have been sometimes used in the sixth. This of course, by an easy

abbreviation, furnished the articles in French and Italian. The people

came soon to establish more uniformity of case in the noun, either by

rejecting inflexions, or by diminishing their number.--Raynouard gives a

long list of old French nouns formed from the Latin accusative by

suppressing _em_ or _am_.[44] The active auxiliary verb, than which

nothing is more distinctive of the modern languages from the Latin, came

in from the same cause, the disuse, through ignorance, of several

inflexions of the tenses; to which we must add, that here also the Latin

language is singularly deficient, possessing no means of distinguishing

the second perfect from the first, or ‘I have seen’ from ‘I saw.’ The

auxiliary verb was early applied, in France and Italy, to supply this

defect; and some have produced what they think occasional instances of

its employment even in the best classical authors.

[44] See a passage of Quintilian, l. 9, c. 4, quoted in Hallam’s Middle

Ages, iii. 316.

In the grammar of Cassiodorus, a mere compilation from old writers,

and in this instance from one Cornutus, we find another remarkable

passage, which I do not remember to have seen quoted, though

doubtless it has been so, on the pronunciation of the letter

_M_. To utter this final consonant, he says, before a word

beginning with a vowel, is wrong, durum ac barbarum sonat; but it

is an equal fault to omit it before one beginning with a consonant;

par enim atque idem est vitium, ita cum vocali sicut cum consonanti

_M_ literam, exprimere. Cassiodorus, De orthographia, cap. 1.

Thus we perceive that there was a nicety as to the pronunciation of

this letter, which uneducated persons would naturally not regard.

Hence in the inscriptions of a low age, we frequently find this

letter omitted; as in one quoted by Muratori, Ego L. Contius me

bibo [vivo] archa [archam] feci, and it is very easy to multiply

instances. Thus the neuter and the accusative terminations were

lost.

|Continuance of Latin in seventh century.|

28. It seems impossible to determine the progress of these changes, the

degrees of variation between the polite and popular, the written and

spoken Latin, in the best ages of Rome, in the decline of the empire,

and in the kingdoms founded upon its ruins; or finally, the exact epoch

when the grammatical language ceased to be generally intelligible. There

remains, therefore, some room still for hypothesis and difference of

opinion. The clergy preached in Latin early in the seventh century, and

we have a popular song of the same age on the victory obtained by

Clotaire II. in 622 over the Saxons.[45] This has been surmised by some

to be a translation, merely because the Latin is better than they

suppose to have been spoken. But, though the words are probably not

given quite correctly, they seem reducible, with a little emendation, to

short verses of an usual rythmical cadence.[46]

[45] Le Bœuf, in Mém. de l’Acad. des Inscript. vol. xvii.

[46] Turner, in Archæologia, vol. xiv. 173. Hallam’s Middle Ages, iii.

326. Bouterwek, Gesch. der Französen Poesie, p. 18, observes,

that there are many fragments of popular Latin songs preserved. I

have not found any quoted, except one, which he gives from La

Revaillère, which is simple and rather pretty; but I know not

whence it is taken. It seems the song of a female slave, and is

perhaps nearly as old as the destruction of the empire.

At quid jubes, pusiole,

Quare mandas, filiole,

Carmen dulce me cantare

Cum sim longe exul valde

Intra mare,

O cur jubes canere?

Intra seems put for trans. The metre is rhymed trochaic; but that

is consistent with antiquity. It is, however, more pleasing than

most of the Latin verse of this period, and is more in the tone of

the modern languages. As it is not at all a hackneyed passage, I

have thought it worthy of quotation.

|It is changed to a new language in eighth and ninth.|

29. But in the middle of the eighth century, we find the rustic language

mentioned as distinct from Latin;[47] and in the council of Tours held

in 813 it is ordered that homilies shall be explained to the people in

their own tongue, whether rustic Roman or Frankish. In 842 we find the

earliest written evidence of its existence, in the celebrated oaths

taken by Louis of Germany and his brother Charles the Bald, as well as

by their vassals, the former in Frankish or early German, the latter in

their own current dialect. This, though with somewhat of a closer

resemblance to Latin, is accounted by the best judges a specimen of the

language spoken south of the Loire; afterwards variously called the

Langue d’oc, Provençal, or Limousin, and essentially the same with the

dialects of Catalonia and Valencia.[48] It is decidedly the opinion of

M. Raynouard, as it was of earlier inquirers, that the general

language of France in the ninth century was the southern dialect, rather

than that of the north, to which we now give the exclusive name of

French, and which they conceive to have deviated from it afterwards.[49]

And he has employed great labour to prove, that, both in Spain and

Italy, this language was generally spoken with hardly as much difference

from that of France, as constitutes even a variation of dialect; the

articles, pronouns, and auxiliaries being nearly identical; most

probably not with so much difference as would render the native of one

country by any means unintelligible in another.[50]

[47] Acad. des. Inscript. xvii. 713.

[48] Du Cange, p. 35. Raynouard, passim. M. de la Rue has called it,

“un Latin expirant.” Recherches sur les Bardes d’Armorique. Between

this and “un Français naissant” there may be only a verbal

distinction; but, in accuracy of definition, I should think M.

Raynouard much more correct. The language of this oath cannot be

called Latin without a violent stretch of words: no Latin scholar,

as such, would understand it, except by conjecture. On the other

hand, most of the words, as we learn from M. R., are Provençal of

the twelfth century. The passage has been often printed, and

sometimes incorrectly. M. Roquefort, in the preface to his

Glossaire de la Langue Romane, has given a tracing from an ancient

manuscript of Nitard, the historian of the ninth century, to whom

we owe this important record of language.

[49] The chief difference was in orthography; the Northerns wrote

Latin words with an _e_ where the South retained _a_; as charitet,

caritat: veritet, veritat; appelet, apelat. Si l’on rétablissait

dans les plus anciens textes Français les _a_ primitifs en place

des _e_, on aurait identiquement la langue des troubadours.

Raynouard, Observations sur le Roman du Rou, 1829, p. 5.

[50] The proofs of this similarity occupy most part of the first and

sixth volumes in M. Raynouard’s excellent work.

It is a common error to suppose that French and Italian had a

double source, barbaric as well as Latin; and that the northern

nations, in conquering those regions, brought in a large share of

their own language. This is like the opinion, that the Norman

Conquest infused the French we now find in our own tongue. There

are certainly Teutonic words, both in French and Italian, but not

sufficient to affect the proposition that these languages are

merely Latin in their origin. These words in many instances express

what Latin could not; thus _guerra_ was by no means synonymous

with _bellum_. Yet even Roquefort talks of “un jargon composé

de mots Tudesques et Romains.” Discours Preliminaire, p. 19;

forgetting which, he more justly remarks afterwards, on the oath of

Charles the Bald, that it shows “la langue Romane est entièrement

composée de Latin.” A long list could, no doubt, be made of French

and Italian words that cannot easily be traced to any Latin with

which we are acquainted; but we may be surprised that it is not

still longer.

|Early specimens of French.|

|Poem on Boethius.|

30. Thus, in the eighth and ninth centuries, if not before, France had

acquired a language unquestionably nothing else than a corruption of

Latin, (for the Celtic or Teutonic words that entered into it were by no

means numerous, and did not influence its structure), but become so

distinct from its parent, through modes of pronunciation as well as

grammatical changes, that it requires some degree of practice to trace

the derivation of words in many instances. It might be expected that we

should be able to adduce, or at least prove to have existed, a series of

monuments in this new form of speech. It might naturally appear that

poetry, the voice of the soul, would have been heard wherever the joys

and sufferings, the hopes and cares of humanity, wherever the

countenance of nature, or the manners of social life, supplied their

boundless treasures to its choice; and among untutored nations it has

been rarely silent. Of the existence of verse, however, in this early

period of the new languages, we find scarce any testimony, a doubtful

passage in a Latin poem of the ninth century excepted,[51] till we come

to a production on the captivity of Boethius, versified chiefly from

passages in his Consolation, which M. Raynouard, though somewhat wishing

to assign a higher date, places about the year 1000. This is printed by

him from a manuscript formerly in the famous abbey of Fleury, or St.

Benoit-sur-Loire, and now in the public library of Orleans. It is a

fragment of 250 lines, written in stanzas of six, seven, or a greater

number of verses of ten syllables, sometimes deviating to eleven or

twelve; and all the lines in each stanza rhyming masculinely with each

other. It is certainly by much the earliest specimen of French

verse;[52] even if it should only belong, as Le Bœuf thought,

to the eleventh century.

[51] In a Latin eclogue quoted by Paschasius Radbert (ob. 865) in the

life of St. Adalhard, abbot of Corbie (ob. 826), the romance poets

are called upon to join the Latins in the following lines: “Rustica

concelebret Romana Latinaque lingua, Saxo, qui, pariter plangens,

pro carmine dicat; Vertite huc cuncti, cecinit quam maximus ille,

Et tumulum facite, et tumulo superaddite carmen.”

Raynouard, Choix des Poésies, vol. ii. p. cxxxv. These lines are

scarcely intelligible; but the quotation from Virgil, in the ninth

century, perhaps deserves remark, though, in one of Charlemagne’s

monasteries, it is not by any means astonishing. Nennius, a Welsh

monk of the same age, who can hardly write Latin at all, has quoted

another line; “Purpurea intexti tollant aulæa a Britanni;” which is

more extraordinary, and almost leads us to suspect an

interpolation, unless he took it from Bede. Gale, xv. Scriptores,

iii. 102.

[52] Raynouard, vol. ii. pp. 5, 6, and preface, p. cxxvii.

|Provençal grammar.|

31. M. Raynouard has asserted what will hardly bear dispute, that “there

has never been composed any considerable work in any language, till it

has acquired determinate forms of expressing the modifications of ideas

according to time, number, and person,” or, in other words, the elements

of grammar.[53] But whether the Provençal or Romance language were in

its infancy so defective, he does not say; nor does the grammar he has

given lead us to that inference. This grammar, indeed, is necessarily

framed, in great measure, out of more recent materials. It may be

suspected, perhaps, that a language formed by mutilating the words of

another, could not for many ages be rich or flexible enough for the

variety of poetic expression. And the more ancient forms would long

retain their prerogative in writing: or, perhaps, we can only say, that

the absence of poetry was the effect, as well as the evidence, of that

intellectual barrenness, more characteristic of the dark ages than their

ignorance.

[53] Observations philogiques et grammaticales, sur le Roman de Rou

(1829), p. 26. Two ancient Provençal grammars, one by Raymond Vidal

in the twelfth century, are in existence. The language therefore

must have had its determinate rules before that time.

M. Raynouard has shown, with a prodigality of evidence, the

regularity of the French or Romance language in the twelfth

century, and its retention of Latin forms, in cases when it had not

been suspected. Thus it is a fundamental rule, that, in nouns

masculine, the nominative ends in s in the singular, but wants it

in the plural; while the oblique cases lose it in the singular, but

retain it in the plural. This is evidently derived from the second

declension in Latin. As, for example--

Sing. Li princes est venus, et a este sacrez rois.

Plur. Li evesque et li plus noble baron se sont assemble.

Thus also the possessive pronoun is always _mes_, _tes_,

_ses_, (meus, tuus, suus) in the nominative singular;

_mon_, _ton_, _son_, (meum, &c.), in the oblique

regimen. It has been through ignorance of such rules that the old

French poetry has seemed capricious, and destitute of strict

grammar; and, in a philosophical sense, the simplicity and

extensiveness of M. Raynouard’s discovery entitle it to the

appellation of beautiful.

|Latin retained in use longer in Italy.|

32. In Italy, where we may conceive the corruption of language to have

been less extensive, and where the spoken patois had never acquired a

distinctive name, like _lingua Romana_ in France, we find two

remarkable proofs, as they seem, that Latin was not wholly

unintelligible in the ninth and tenth centuries, and which therefore

modify M. Raynouard’s hypothesis as to the simultaneous origin of the

Romance tongue. The one is a popular song of the soldiers, on their

march to rescue the Emperor Louis II. in 881, from the violent detention

in which he had been placed by the duke of Benevento; the other, a

similar exhortation to the defenders of Modena in 924, when that city

was in danger of siege from the Hungarians. Both of these were published

by Muratori, in his fortieth dissertation on Italian Antiquities; and

both have been borrowed from him by M. Sismondi, in his Littérature du

Midi.[54] The former of these poems is in a loose trochaic measure,

totally destitute of regard to grammatical inflections. Yet some of the

leading peculiarities of Italian, the article and the auxiliary verb, do

not appear. The latter is in accentual iambics, with a sort of

monotonous termination in the nature of rhyme; and in very much superior

Latinity, probably the work of an ecclesiastic.[55] It is difficult to

account for either of these, especially the former, which is merely a

military song, except on the supposition that the Latin language was not

grown wholly out of popular use.

[54] Vol. i. pp. 23, 27.

[55] I am at a loss to know what Muratori means by saying, “Son versi

di dodici sillabe, ma computata la ragione de’ tempi, vengono ad

essere uguali a gli endecasillabi.” p. 551. He could not have

understood the metre, which is perfectly regular, and even

harmonious, on the condition only, that no “ragione de’ tempi”

except such as accentual pronunciation observes, shall be demanded.

The first two lines will serve as a specimen:--

“O tu, qui servas armis ista mænia,

Noli dormire, moneo, sed vigila.”

This is like another strange observation of Muratori in the same

dissertation, that, in the well-known lines of the emperor Adrian

to his soul, “Animula vagula, blandula,” which could perplex no

schoolboy, he cannot discover “un’esatta norma di metro;” and

therefore takes them to be merely rhythmical.

|French of eleventh century.|

33. In the eleventh century, France still affords us but few extant

writings. Several, indeed, can be shown to have once existed. The

Romance language, comprehending the two divisions of Provençal and

Northern French, by this time distinctly separate from each other, was

now, say the authors of the Histoire Littéraire de la France, employed

in poetry, romances, translations, and original works in different kinds

of literature; sermons were preached in it, and the code, called

the Assizes de Jerusalem, was drawn up under Godfrey of Bouillon in

1100.[56] Some part of this is doubtful, and especially the age of these

laws. They do not mention those of William the Conqueror, recorded in

French by Ingulfus. Doubts have been cast by a distinguished living

critic on the age of this French code, and upon the authenticity of the

History of Ingulfus itself; which he conceives, upon very plausible

grounds, to be a forgery of Richard II.’s time: the language of the laws

indeed appears to be very ancient, but not probably distinguishable at

this day from the French of the twelfth century. It may be said, in

general, that, except one or two translations from books of Scripture,

very little now extant has been clearly referred to an earlier

period.[57] Yet it is impossible to doubt that the language was much

employed in poetry, and had been gradually ramifying itself by the

shoots of invention and sentiment; since, at the close of this age, or

in the next, we find a constellation of gay and brilliant versifiers,

the Troubadours of southern France, and a corresponding class to the

north of the Loire.

[56] Vol. vii. p. 107.

[57] Roquefort, Glossaire de la Langue Romane, p. 25, and État de la

Poésie Française, p. 42, and 206, mentions several religious works

in the royal library, and also a metrical romance in the British

Museum, lately published in France on the fabulous voyage of

Charlemagne to Constantinople. Raynouard has collected a few

fragments in Provençal. But I must dissent from this excellent

writer in referring the famous poem of the Vaudois, La Nobla

Leyczon, to the year 1100. Choix des Poésies des Troubadours, vol.

ii. p. cxxxvii. I have already observed, that the two lines which

contain what he calls la date de l’an 1100, are so loosely

expressed, as to include the whole ensuing century. (Hallam’s

Middle Ages, iii. 467.) And I am now convinced that the poem is not

much older than 1200. It seems probable that they reckoned 1100

years, on a loose computation, not from the Christian era, but from

the time when the passage of Scripture to which these lines allude

was written. The allusion may be to 1 Pet. i. 20. But it is clear

that, at the time of the composition of this poem, not only the

name of _Vaudois_ had been imposed on those sectaries, but they had

become subject to persecution. We know nothing of this till near

the end of the century. This poem was probably written in the south

of France, and carried afterwards to the Alpine valleys of

Piedmont, from which it was brought to Geneva and England in the

seventeenth century. La Nobla Leyczon is published at length by

Raynouard. It consists of 479 lines, which seem to be rhythmical or

aberrant Alexandrines; the rhymes uncertain in number, chiefly

masculine. The poem censures the corruptions of the church, but

contains little that would be considered heretical; which agrees

with what contemporary historians relate of the original Waldenses.

Any doubts as to the authenticity of this poem are totally

unreasonable. M. Raynouard, an indisputably competent judge,

observes, “Les personnes qui l’examineront avec attention jugeront

que le manuscrit n’a pas été interpolé,” p. cxliii.

I will here reprint more accurately than before the two lines

supposed to give the poem the date of 1100:--

“Ben ha mil et cent ancz compli entièrement,

Que fo scripta l’ora car sen al derier temps.”

Can M. Raynouard, or any one else, be warranted by this in saying,

_La date de l’an 1100_, qu’on lit dans ce poème, merite toute

confiance?

|Metres of modern languages.|

34. These early poets in the modern languages chiefly borrowed their

forms of versification from the Latin. It is unnecessary to say, that

metrical composition in that language, as in Greek, was an arrangement

of verses corresponding by equal or equivalent feet; all syllables being

presumed to fall under a known division of long and short, the former

passing for strictly the double of the latter in quantity of time. By

this law of pronunciation all verse was measured; and to this not only

actors, who were assisted by an accompaniment, but the orators also

endeavoured to conform. But the accented, or, if we choose rather to

call them so, emphatic syllables, being regulated by a very different

though uniform law, the uninstructed people, especially in the decline

of Latinity, pronounced, as we now do, with little or no regard to the

metrical quantity of syllables, but according to their accentual value.

And this gave rise to the popular or rhythmical poetry of the lower

empire; traces of which may be found in the second century, and even

much earlier, but of which we have abundant proofs after the age of

Constantine.[58] All metre, as Augustin says, was rhythm, but all rhythm

was not metre: in rhythmical verse, neither the quantity of syllables,

that is, the time allotted to each by metrical rule, nor even, in some

degree, their number, was regarded, so long as a cadence was retained in

which the ear could recognise a certain approach to uniformity. Much

popular poetry, both religious and profane, and the public hymns

of the church, were written in this manner; the distinction of long and

short syllables, even while Latin remained a living tongue, was lost in

speech, and required study to attain it. The accent or emphasis, both of

which are probably, to a certain extent, connected with quantity and

with each other, supplied its place; the accented syllable being,

perhaps, generally lengthened in ordinary speech; though this is not the

sole cause of length, for no want of emphasis or lowness of tone can

render a syllable of many letters short. Thus we find two species of

Latin verse: one metrical, which Prudentius, Fortunatus, and others

aspired to write; the other rhythmical, somewhat licentious in number of

syllables, and wholly accentual in its pronunciation. But this kind was

founded on the former, and imitated the ancient syllabic arrangements.

Thus the trochaic, or line, in which the stress falls on the uneven

syllables, commonly alternating by eight and seven, a very popular metre

from its spirited flow, was adopted in military songs, such as that

already mentioned of the Italian soldiers in the ninth century. It was

also common in religious chants. The line of eight syllables, or dimeter

iambic, in which the cadence falls on the even places, was still more

frequent in ecclesiastical verse. But these are the most ordinary forms

of versification in the early French or Provençal, Spanish, and Italian

languages. The line of eleven syllables, which became in time still more

usual than the former, is nothing else than the ancient hendecasyllable;

from which the French, in what they call masculine rhymes, and ourselves

more generally, from a still greater deficiency of final vowels, have

been forced to retrench the last syllable. The Alexandrine of twelve

syllables might seem to be the trimeter iambic of the ancients. But

Sanchez has very plausibly referred its origin to a form more usual in

the dark ages, the pentameter; and shown it in some early Spanish

poetry.[59] The Alexandrine, in the southern languages, had generally a

feminine termination, that is, in a short vowel, thus becoming of

thirteen syllables, the stress falling on the penultimate, as is the

usual case in a Latin pentameter verse, accentually read in our present

mode. The variation of syllables in these Alexandrines, which run from

twelve to fourteen, is accounted for by the similar numerical variety in

the pentameter.

[58] The well-known lines of Adrian to Florus, and his reply, “Ego

nolo Florus esse,” &c., are accentual trochaics, but not wholly so;

for the last line, Scythicas pati pruinas, requires the word pati

to be sounded as an iambic. They are not the earliest instance

extant of disregard to quantity, for Suetonius quotes some

satirical lines on Julius Cæsar.

[59] The break in the middle of the Alexandrine, it will occur to

every competent judge, has nothing analogous to it in the trimeter

iambic, but exactly corresponds to the invariable law of the

pentameter.

|Origin of rhyme in Latin.|

35. I have dwelt, perhaps tediously, on this subject, because vague

notions of a derivation of modern metrical arrangements, even in the

languages of Latin origin, from the Arabs or Scandinavians, have

sometimes gained credit.[60] It has been imagined also that the peculiar

characteristic of the new poetry, rhyme, was borrowed from the Saracens

of Spain.[61] But the Latin language abounds so much in consonances,

that those who have been accustomed to write verses in it well know the

difficulty of avoiding them, as much as an ear formed on classical

models demands; and as this gingle is certainly pleasing in itself, it

is not wonderful that the less fastidious vulgar should adopt it in

their rhythmical songs. It has been proved by Muratori, Gray, and

Turner, beyond the possibility of doubt, that rhymed Latin verse was in

use from the end of the fourth century.[62]

[60] Roquefort, Essai sur la Poésie Française dans le 12me et 13me

siècles, p. 66. Galvani, Osservazioni sulla poesia de’ Trovatori.

(Modena, 1829) Sanchez, Poesias Castellanas anteriores al 15mo

siglo, vol. i. p. 122.

Tyrwhitt had already observed, “The metres which the Normans used,

and which we seem to have borrowed from them, were plainly copied

from the Latin rhythmical verses, which, in the declension of that

language, were current in various forms among those who either did

not understand, or did not regard, the true quantity of syllables;

and the practice of rhyming is probably to be deduced from the same

original.” Essay on the Language and Versification of Chaucer, p.

51.

[61] Andrès, with a partiality to the Saracens of Spain, whom, by an

odd blunder, he takes for his countrymen, manifested in almost

every page, does not fail to urge this. It had been said long

before by Huet, and others who lived before these subjects had been

thoroughly investigated. Origine e Progresso, &c., ii. 194. He has

been copied by Ginguéné and Sismondi.

[62] Muratori, Antichità Italiane dissert., 40. Turner, in Archæologia,

vol. xiv., and Hist. of England, vol. iv. pp. 328, 653. Gray has

gone as deeply as any one into this subject; and, though writing at

what may be called an early period of metrical criticism, he has

fallen into a few errors, and been too easy of credence,

unanswerably proves the Latin origin of rhyme. Gray’s Works by

Mathias, vol. ii. p. 30-54.

|Provençal and French poetry.|

36. Thus, about the time of the first crusade, we find two dialects of

the same language, differing by that time not inconsiderably from each

other, the Provençal and French, possessing a regular grammar,

established forms of versification (and the early troubadours added

several to those borrowed from the Latin[63]), and a flexibility which

gave free scope to the graceful turns of poetry. William, duke of

Guienne, has the glory of leading the van of surviving Provençal

songsters. He was born in 1070, and may possibly have composed some of

his little poems before he joined the crusaders in 1096. If these are

genuine, and no doubt of them seems to be entertained, they denote a

considerable degree of previous refinement in the language.[64] We do

not, I believe, meet with any other troubadour till after the middle of

the twelfth century. From that time till about the close of the

thirteenth, they were numerous almost as the gay insects of spring;

names of illustrious birth are mingled in the list with those whom

genius has saved from obscurity; they were the delight of a luxurious

nobility, the pride of southern France, while the great fiefs of

Toulouse and Guienne were in their splendour. Their style soon extended

itself to the northern dialect. Abelard was the first of recorded name,

who taught the banks of the Seine to resound a tale of love; and it was

of Eloise that he sung.[65] “You composed,” says that gifted and

noble-spirited woman, in one of her letters to him, “many verses in

amorous measure, so sweet both in their language and their melody, that

your name was incessantly in the mouths of all, and even the most

illiterate could not be forgetful of you. This it was chiefly that made

women admire you. And as most of these songs were on me and my love,

they made me known in many countries, and caused many women to envy me.

Every tongue spoke of your Eloise; every street, every house resounded

with my name.”[66] These poems of Abelard are lost; but in the Norman,

or northern French language, we have an immense number of poets

belonging to the twelfth, and the two following centuries. One hundred

and twenty-seven are known by name in the twelfth alone.[67] Thibault,

king of Navarre and count of Champagne, about the middle of the next, is

accounted the best, as well as noblest of French poets.

[63] See Raynouard, Roquefort, and Galvini, for the Provençal and

French metres, which are very complicated.

[64] Raynouard, Choix des Poésies des Troubadours, vol. ii. Auguis,

Recueil des Anciens Poètes Français, vol. i.

[65] Bouterwek, on the authority of La Ravaillere, seems to doubt

whether these poems of Abelard were in French or Latin. Gesch. der

Französen Poesie, p. 18. I believe this would be thought quite

paradoxical by any critic at present.

[66] Duo autem, fateor, tibi specialiter inerant, quibus feminarum

quarumlibet animos statim allicere poteras, dictandi videlicet et

cantandi gratia; quæ cæteros minimè philosophos assecutos esse

novimus. Quibus quidem quasi ludo quodam laborem exercitii recreans

philosophici pleraque amatorio metro vel rithmo composita

reliquisti carmina, quæ præ nimiâ suavitate tam dictaminis quam

cantus sæpius frequentata tuum in ore omnium nomen incessanter

tenebant, ut etiam illiteratos melodiæ dulcedo tui non sineret

immemores esse. Atque hinc maxime in amorem tui feminæ suspirabant.

Et cum horum pars maxima carminum nostros decantaret amores, multis

me regionibus brevi tempore nunciavit, et multarum in me feminarum

accendit invidiam. And in another place: Frequenti carmine tuam in

ore omnium Heloissam ponebas: me plateæ omnes, me domus singulæ

resonabant. Epist. Abælardi et Heloissæ. These epistles of Abelard

and Eloisa, especially those of the latter, are, as far as I know,

the first book that gives any pleasure in reading which had been

produced in Europe for 600 years, since the Consolation of

Boethius, But I do not press my negative judgment. We may at least

say that the writers of the dark ages, if they have left anything

intrinsically very good, have been ill-treated by the learned, who

have failed to extract it. Pope, it may be here observed, has done

great injustice to Eloisa in his unrivalled Epistle, by putting the

sentiments of a coarse and abandoned woman into her mouth. Her

refusal to marry Abelard arose not from an abstract predilection

for the name of mistress above that of wife, but from her

disinterested affection, which would not deprive him of the

prospect of ecclesiastical dignities, to which his genius and

renown might lead him. She judged very unwisely, as it turned out,

but from an unbounded generosity of character. He was, in fact,

unworthy of her affection, which she expresses in the tenderest

language. Deum testem invoco, si me Augustus universo præsidens

mundo matrimonii honore dignaretur, totumque mihi orbem confirmaret

in perpetuum præsidendum, charius mihi et dignius videretur tua

dici meretrix quam illius imperatrix.

[67] Auguis, Discours Préliminaire, p. 2. Roquefort, Etat de la Poésie

Française aux 12me et 13me siècles.

37. In this French and Provençal poetry, if we come to the consideration

of it historically, descending from an earlier period, we are at once

struck by the vast preponderance of amorous ditties. The Greek and Roman

muses, especially the latter, seem frigid as their own fountain in

comparison. Satires on the great, and especially, on the clergy,

exhortations to the crusade, and religious odes, are intermingled in the

productions of the troubadours; but love is the prevailing theme.

This tone they could hardly have borrowed from the rhythmical Latin

verses, of which all that remain are without passion or energy. They

could as little have been indebted to their predecessors for a peculiar

gracefulness, an indescribable charm of gaiety and ease, which many of

their lighter poems display. This can only be ascribed to the polish of

chivalrous manners, and to the influence of feminine delicacy on public

taste. The well-known dialogue, for example, of Horace and Lydia, is

justly praised; nothing extant of this amœbean character, from Greece

or Rome, is nearly so good. But such alternate stanzas, between speakers

of different sexes, are very common in the early French poets; and it

would be easy to find some quite equal to Horace in grace and spirit.

They had even a generic name, _tensons_, contentions; that is,

dialogues of lively repartee, such as we are surprised to find in the

twelfth century, an age accounted by many almost barbarous. None of

these are prettier than what are called _pastourelles_, in which

the poet is feigned to meet a shepherdess, whose love he solicits, and

by whom he is repelled, (not always finally,) in alternate stanzas.[68]

Some of these may be read in Roquefort, Etat de la Poésie Française,

dans le 12me et 13me siècles; others in Raynouard, Choix des Poésies des

Troubadours; in Auguis, Recueil des Anciens Poètes Français; or in

Galvani, Osservazioni sulla Poesia de’ Trovatori.

[68] These have, as Galvani has observed, an ancient prototype in the

twenty-seventh pastoral of Theocritus, which Dryden has translated

with no diminution of its freedom. Some of the Pastourelles are

also rather licentious; but that is not the case with the greater

part. M. Raynouard, in an article of the Journal des Savans for

1824, p. 613, remarks the superior decency of the southern poets,

scarcely four or five transgressing in that respect; while many of

the fabliaux in the collections of Barbazan and Méon are of the

most coarse and stupid ribaldry; and such that even the object of

exhibiting ancient manners and language scarcely warranted their

publication in so large a number.

38. In all these light compositions which gallantry or gaiety inspired,

we perceive the characteristic excellencies of French poetry, as

distinctly as in the best vaudeville of the age of Louis XV. We can

really sometimes find little difference, except an obsoleteness of

language, which gives them a kind of poignancy. And this style, as I

have observed, seems to have been quite original in France, though it

was imitated by other nations.[69] The French poetry, on the other hand,

was deficient in strength and ardour. It was also too much filled with

monotonous commonplaces; among which the tedious descriptions of spring,

and the everlasting nightingale, are eminently to be reckoned. These,

perhaps, are less frequent in the early poems, most of which are short,

than they became in the prolix expansion adopted by the allegorical

school in the fourteenth century. They prevail, as is well known, in

Chaucer, Dunbar, and several other of our own poets.

[69] Andrès, as usual, derives the Provençal style of poetry from the

Arabians; and this has been countenanced, in some measure, by

Ginguéné and Sismondi. Some of the peculiarities of the Trobadours,

their tensons, or contentions, and the envoi, or termination of a

poem, by an address to the poem itself or the reader, are said to

be of Arabian origin. In assuming that rhyme was introduced by the

same channel, these writers are probably mistaken. But I have seen

too little of oriental, and, especially, of Hispano-Saracenic

poetry, to form any opinion how far the more essential

characteristics of Provençal verse may have been derived from it.

One seems to find more of oriental hyperbole in the Castilian

poetry.

|Metrical romances. Havelok the Dane.|

Introduction to the Literature of Europe in the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Seventeenth Centuries, Vol. 1 · 第 34 / 51 章