much more the fourteenth.
Invention of linen paper.
Libraries.
In the thirteenth century there seems to have been some decline of classical literature, in consequence probably of the scholastic philosophy, which was then in its greatest vigour; at least we do not find so many good writers as in the preceding age. But about the middle of the fourteenth, or perhaps a little sooner, an ardent zeal for the restoration of ancient learning began to display itself. The copying of books, for some ages slowly and sparingly performed in monasteries, had already become a branch of trade;[x]and their price was consequently reduced. Tiraboschi denies that the invention of making paper from linen rags is older than the middle of that century; and although doubts may be justly entertained as to the accuracy of this position, yet the confidence with which so eminent a scholar advances it is at least a proof that paper manuscripts of an earlier date are very rare.[y]Princes became far more attentiveto literature when it was no longer confined to metaphysical theology and canon law. I have already mentioned the translations from classical authors, made by command of John and Charles V. of France. These French translations diffused some acquaintance with ancient history and learning among our own countrymen.[z]The public libraries assumed a more respectable appearance. Louis IX. had formed one at Paris, in which it does not appear that any work of elegant literature was found.[a]At the beginning of the fourteenth century, only four classical manuscripts existed in this collection; of Cicero, Ovid, Lucan, and Boethius.[b]The academical library of Oxford, in 1300, consisted of a few tracts kept in chests under St Mary's church. That of Glastonbury Abbey, in 1240, contained four hundred volumes, among which were Livy, Sallust, Lucan, Virgil, Claudian, and other ancient writers.[c]But no other, probably, of that age was so numerous or so valuable. Richard of Bury, chancellor of England, and Edward III., spared no expense in collecting a library, the first perhaps that any private man had formed. But the scarcity of valuable books was still so great, that he gave the abbot of St. Albans fifty pounds weight of silver for between thirty and forty volumes.[d]Charles V.increased the royal library at Paris to nine hundred volumes, which the duke of Bedford purchased and transported to London.[e]His brother Humphrey duke of Gloucester presented the university of Oxford with six hundred books, which seem to have been of extraordinary value, one hundred and twenty of them having been estimated at one thousand pounds. This indeed was in 1440, at which time such a library would not have been thought remarkably numerous beyond the Alps,[f]but England had made comparatively little progress in learning. Germany, however, was probably still less advanced. Louis, Elector Palatine, bequeathed in 1421 his library to the university of Heidelberg, consisting of one hundred and fifty-two volumes. Eighty-nine of these related to theology, twelve to canon and civil law, forty-five to medicine, and six to philosophy.[g]
Transcription of manuscripts.
Those who first undertook to lay open the stores of ancient learning found incredible difficulties from the scarcity of manuscripts. So gross and supine was the ignorance of the monks, within whose walls these treasures were concealed, that it was impossible to ascertain, except by indefatigable researches, the extent of what had been saved out of the great shipwreck of antiquity. To this inquiry Petrarch devoted continual attention. He spared no means to preserve the remains of authors, who were perishing from neglect and time. This danger was by no meanspassed in the fourteenth century. A treatise of Cicero upon Glory, which had been in his possession, was afterwards irretrievably lost.[h]He declares that he had seen in his youth the works of Varro; but all his endeavours to recover these and the second Decad of Livy were fruitless. He found, however, Quintilian, in 1350, of which there was no copy in Italy.[i]Boccaccio, and a man of less general fame, Colluccio Salutato, were distinguished in the same honourable task. The diligence of these scholars was not confined to searching for manuscripts. Transcribed by slovenly monks, or by ignorant persons who made copies for sale, they required the continual emendation of accurate critics.[k]Though much certainly was left for the more enlightened sagacity of later times, we owe the first intelligible text of the Latin classics to Petrarch, Poggio, and their contemporary labourers in this vineyard for a hundred years before the invention of printing.
Industry of the fifteenth century.
Poggio.
What Petrarch began in the fourteenth century was carried on by a new generation with unabating industry. The whole lives of Italian scholars in the fifteenth century were devoted to the recovery of manuscripts and the revival of philology. For this they sacrificed their native language, which had made such surprising shoots in the preceding age, and were content to trace, in humble reverence, the footsteps of antiquity. For this too they lost the hope of permanent glory, which can never remain with imitators, or such as trim the lamp of ancient sepulchres. No writer perhaps of the fifteenth century, except Politian, can aspire at present even to the second class, in a just marshalling of literary reputation. But we owe them our respect and gratitude for their taste and diligence. The discovery of an unknown manuscript, says Tiraboschi, was regarded almost as the conquest of a kingdom. The classical writers, he adds, were chiefly either found in Italy, or at least by Italians; they were first amended and first printed in Italy, and in Italy they were first collected in public libraries.[m]This is subject to some exception, when fairly considered; several ancient authors were never lost, and therefore cannot be said to have been discovered; and we know that Italy did not always anticipate other countries in classical printing. But her superior merit is incontestable. Poggio Bracciolini, who stands perhaps at the head of the restorers of learning, in the earlier part of the fifteenth century, discovered in the monastery of St. Gall, among dirt and rubbish in a dungeon scarcely fit for condemned criminals, as he describes it, an entire copy of Quintilian, and part of Valerius Flaccus. This was in 1414; and soon afterwards, he rescued the poem of Silius Italicus, and twelve comedies of Plautus, in addition to eight that were previously known: besides Lucretius, Columella, Tertullian, Ammianus Marcellinus, and other writers of inferior note.[n]A bishop of Lodi brought to light the rhetorical treatises of Cicero. Not that we must suppose these books to have been universally unknown before; Quintilian, at least, is quoted by English writers much earlier. But so little intercourse prevailed among different countries, and the monks had so little acquaintance with the riches of their conventual libraries, that an author might pass for lost in Italy, who was familiar to a few learned men in other parts of Europe. To the name of Poggio we may add a number of others, distinguished in this memorable resurrection of ancient literature, and united, not always indeed by friendship, for their bitter animosities disgrace their profession, but by a sort of common sympathy in the cause of learning; Filelfo, Laurentius Valla, Niccolo Niccoli, Ambrogio Traversari, more commonly called Il Camaldolense, and Leonardo Aretino.
Greek language unknown in the West.
From the subversion of the Western Empire, or at least from the time when Rome ceased to pay obedience to the exarchs of Ravenna, the Greek language and literature had been almost entirely forgotten within the pale of the Latin church. A very few exceptions might be found, especially in the earlier period of the middle ages, while the eastern emperors retained their dominion overpart of Italy.[o]Thus Charlemagne is said to have established a school for Greek at Osnaburg.[p]John Scotus seems to have been well acquainted with the language. And Greek characters may occasionally, though very seldom, be found in the writings of learned men; such as Lanfranc or William of Malmsbury.[q]It is said that Roger Bacon understood Greek; and that his eminent contemporary, Robert Grostete, bishop of Lincoln, had a sufficient intimacy with it to translate a part of Suidas. Since Greek was spoken with considerable purity by the noble and well educated natives of Constantinople, we may wonder that, even as a living language, it was not better known by the western nations, and especially in so neighbouring a nation as Italy. Yet here the ignorance was perhaps even more complete than in France or England. In some parts indeed of Calabria, which had been subject to theeastern empire till near the year 1100, the liturgy was still performed in Greek; and a considerable acquaintance with the language was of course preserved. But for the scholars of Italy, Boccaccio positively asserts, that no one understood so much as the Greek characters.[r]Nor is there probably a single line quoted from any poet in that language from the sixth to the fourteenth century.
Its study revives in the fourteenth century.
The first to lead the way in restoring Grecian learning in Europe were the same men who had revived the kindred muses of Latium, Petrarch and Boccaccio. Barlaam, a Calabrian by birth, during an embassy from the court of Constantinople in 1335, was persuaded to become the preceptor of the former, with whom he read the works of Plato.[s]Leontius Pilatus, a native of Thessalonica, was encouraged some years afterwards by Boccaccio to give public lectures upon Homer at Florence.[t]Whatever might be the share of general attention that he excited, he had the honour of instructing both these great Italians in his native language. Neither of them perhaps reached an advanced degree of proficiency; but they bathed their lips in the fountain, and enjoyed the pride of being the first who paid the homage of a new posterity to the father of poetry. For some time little fruit apparently resulted from their example; but Italy had imbibed the desire of acquisitions in a new sphere of knowledge, which, after some interval, she was abundantly able to realize. A few years before the termination of the fourteenth century, Emanuel Chrysoloras, whom the emperor John Palæologus had previously sent into Italy, and even as far as England, upon one of those unavailing embassies, by which the Byzantine court strove to obtain sympathy and succour from Europe, returned to Florence as a public teacher of Grecian literature.[u]His school was afterwards removedsuccessively to Pavia, Venice, and Rome; and during nearly twenty years that he taught in Italy, most of those eminent scholars whom I have already named, and who distinguish the first half of that century, derived from his instruction their knowledge of the Greek tongue. Some, not content with being the disciples of Chrysoloras, betook themselves to the source of that literature at Constantinople; and returned to Italy, not only with a more accurate insight into the Greek idiom than they could have attained at home, but with copious treasures of manuscripts, few, if any, of which probably existed previously in Italy, where none had ability to read or value them; so that the principal authors of Grecian antiquity may be considered as brought to light by these inquirers, the most celebrated of whom are Guarino of Verona, Aurispa, and Filelfo. The second of these brought home to Venice in 1423 not less than two hundred and thirty-eight volumes.[x]
State of learning in Greece.
The fall of that eastern empire, which had so long outlived all other pretensions to respect that it scarcely retained that founded upon its antiquity, seems to have been providentially delayed till Italy was ripe to nourish the scattered seeds of literature that would have perished a few ages earlier in the common catastrophe. From the commencement of the fifteenth century even the national pride of Greece could not blind her to the signs of approaching ruin. It was no longer possible to inspire the European republic, distracted by wars and restrained by calculating policy, with the generous fanaticism of the crusades; and at the council of Florence, in 1439, the court and church of Constantinople had the mortification of sacrificing their long-cherished faith, without experiencing any sensible return of protection or security. The learned Greeks were perhaps the first to anticipate, and certainly not the last to avoid, their country's destruction. The council of Florence brought many of them into Italian connexions, and held out at least a temporary accommodation of their conflicting opinions. Though the Roman pontiffs did nothing, and probably could have done nothing effectual,for the empire of Constantinople, they were very ready to protect and reward the learning of individuals. To Eugenius IV., to Nicolas V., to Pius II., and some other popes of this age, the Greek exiles were indebted for a patronage which they repaid by splendid services in the restoration of their native literature throughout Italy. Bessarion, a disputant on the Greek side in the council of Florence, was well content to renounce the doctrine of single procession for a cardinal's hat—a dignity which he deserved for his learning, if not for his pliancy. Theodore Gaza, George of Trebizond, and Gemistus Pletho, might equal Bessarion in merit, though not in honours. They all, however, experienced the patronage of those admirable protectors of letters, Nicolas V., Cosmo de' Medici, or Alfonso king of Naples. These men emigrated before the final destruction of the Greek empire; Lascaris and Musurus, whose arrival in Italy was posterior to that event, may be deemed perhaps still more conspicuous; but as the study of the Greek language was already restored, it is unnecessary to pursue the subject any further.
The Greeks had preserved, through the course of the middle ages, their share of ancient learning with more fidelity and attention than was shown in the west of Europe. Genius indeed, or any original excellence, could not well exist along with their cowardly despotism, and their contemptible theology, more corrupted by frivolous subtleties than that of the Latin church. The spirit of persecution, naturally allied to despotism and bigotry, had nearly, during one period, extinguished the lamp, or at least reduced the Greeks to a level with the most ignorant nations of the West. In the age of Justinian, who expelled the last Platonic philosophers, learning began rapidly to decline; in that of Heraclius it had reached a much lower point of degradation; and for two centuries, especially while the worshippers of images were persecuted with unrelenting intolerance, there is almost a blank in the annals of Grecian literature.[y]But about the middle of the ninth century itrevived pretty suddenly, and with considerable success.[z]Though, as I have observed, we find in very few instances any original talent, yet it was hardly less important to have had compilers of such erudition as Photius, Suidas, Eustathius, and Tzetzes. With these certainly the Latins of the middle ages could not place any names in comparison. They possessed, to an extent which we cannot precisely appreciate, many of those poets, historians, and orators of ancient Greece, whose loss we have long regretted and must continue to deem irretrievable. Great havoc, however, was made in the libraries of Constantinople at its capture by the Latins—an epoch from which a rapid decline is to be traced in the literature of the eastern empire. Solecisms and barbarous terms, which sometimes occur in the old Byzantine writers, are said to deform the style of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.[a]The Turkish ravages and destruction of monasteriesensued; and in the cheerless intervals of immediate terror there was no longer any encouragement to preserve the monuments of an expiring language, and of a name that was to lose its place among nations.[b]
Literature not much improved beyond Italy.
That ardour for the restoration of classical literature which animated Italy in the first part of the fifteenth century, was by no means common to the rest of Europe. Neither England, nor France, nor Germany, seemed aware of the approaching change. We are told that learning, by which I believe is only meant the scholastic ontology, had begun to decline at Oxford from the time of Edward III.[c]And the fifteenth century, from whatever cause, is particularly barren of writers in the Latin language. The study of Greek was only introduced by Grocyn and Linacer underHenry VII., and met with violent opposition in the university of Oxford, where the unlearned party styled themselves Trojans, as a pretext for abusing and insulting the scholars.[d]Nor did any classical work proceed from the respectable press of Caxton. France, at the beginning of the fifteenth age, had several eminent theologians; but the reigns of Charles VII. and Louis XI. contributed far more to her political than her literary renown. A Greek professor was first appointed at Paris in 1458, before which time the language had not been publicly taught, and was little understood.[e]Much less had Germany thrown off her ancient rudeness. Æneas Sylvius, indeed, a deliberate flatterer, extols every circumstance in the social state of that country; but Campano, the papal legate at Ratisbon in 1471, exclaims against the barbarism of a nation, where very few possessed any learning, none any elegance.[f]Yet the progress of intellectual cultivation, at least in the two former countries, was uniform, though silent; libraries became more numerous, and books, after the happy invention of paper, though still very scarce, might be copied at less expense. Many colleges were founded in the English as well as foreign universities during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Nor can I pass over institutions that have so eminently contributed to the literary reputation of this country, and that still continue to exercise so conspicuous an influence over her taste and knowledge, as the two great schools of grammatical learning, Winchester and Eton—the one founded by William of Wykeham, bishop of Winchester, in 1373; the other in 1432, by King Henry the Sixth.[g]
Invention of printing.
But while the learned of Italy were eagerly exploring their recent acquisitions of manuscripts, decyphered with difficulty and slowly circulated from hand to hand, a few obscure Germans had gradually perfected the most important discovery recorded in the annals of mankind. The invention of printing, so far from being the result of philosophical sagacity, does not appear to have been suggested by any regard to the higher branches of literature, or to bear any other relation than that of coincidence to their revival in Italy. The question why it was struck out at that particular time must be referred to that disposition of unknown causes which we call accident. Two or three centuries earlier, we cannot but acknowledge the discovery would have been almost equally acceptable. But the invention of paper seems to have naturally preceded those of engraving and printing. It is generally agreed that playing cards, which have been traced far back in the fourteenth century, gave the first notion of taking off impressions from engraved figures upon wood. The second stage, or rather second application of this art, was the representation of saints and other religious devices, several instances of which are still extant. Some of these are accompanied with an entire page of illustrative text, cut into the same wooden block. This process is indeed far removed from the invention that has given immortality to the names of Fust, Schœffer, and Gutenburg, yet it probably led to the consideration of means whereby it might be rendered less operose and inconvenient. Whether moveable wooden characters were ever employed in any entire work is very questionable—the opinion that referred their use to Laurence Coster, of Haarlem, not having stood the test of more accurate investigation. They appear, however, in the capital letters of some early printed books. But no expedient of this kind could have fulfilled the great purposes of this invention, until it was perfected by founding metal types in a matrix or mould, the essential characteristic of printing, as distinguished from other arts that bear some analogy to it.
The first book that issued from the presses of Fustand his associates at Mentz was an edition of the Vulgate, commonly called the Mazarine Bible, a copy having been discovered in the library that owes its name to Cardinal Mazarin at Paris. This is supposed to have been printed between the years 1450 and 1455.[h]In 1457 an edition of the Psalter appeared, and in this the invention was announced to the world in a boasting colophon, though certainly not unreasonably bold.[i]Another edition of the Psalter, one of an ecclesiastical book, Durand's account of liturgical offices, one of the Constitutions of Pope Clement V., and one of a popular treatise on general science, called the Catholicon, filled up the interval till 1462, when the second Mentz Bible proceeded from the same printers.[k]This, in the opinion of some, is the earliest book in which cast types were employed—those of the Mazarine Bible having been cut with the hand. But this is a controverted point. In 1465 Fust and Schœffer published an edition of Cicero's Offices, the first tribute of the new art to polite literature. Two pupils of their school, Sweynheim and Pannartz, migrated the same year into Italy, and printed Donatus's grammar and the works of Lactantius at the monastery of Subiaco, in the neighbourhood of Rome.[m]Venice had the honour of extending her patronage to John of Spira, the first who applied the art on an extensive scale to the publication of classical writers.[n]Several Latin authors came forth from his press in 1470; and during the next ten years a multitude of editions were published in various parts of Italy. Though, as we may judge from their present scarcity, these editions were by no means numerous in respect of impressions, yet, contrasted with the dilatory process of copying manuscripts, they were like a new mechanical power in machinery, and gave a wonderfully accelerated impulse to the intellectual cultivation of mankind. From the era of these first editions proceeding from the Spiras, Zarot, Janson, or Sweynheim and Pannartz, literature must be deemed to have altogetherrevived in Italy. The sun was now fully above the horizon, though countries less fortunately circumstanced did not immediately catch his beams; and the restoration of ancient learning in France and England cannot be considered as by any means effectual even at the expiration of the fifteenth century. At this point, however, I close the present chapter. The last twenty years of the middle ages, according to the date which I have fixed for their termination in treating of political history, might well invite me by their brilliancy to dwell upon that golden morning of Italian literature. But, in the history of letters, they rather appertain to the modern than the middle period; nor would it become me to trespass upon the exhausted patience of my readers by repeating what has been so often and so recently told, the story of art and learning, that has employed the comprehensive research of a Tiraboschi, a Ginguené, and a Roscoe.