Chapter V: Rome (3)

The same satirist refers more than once to many amiable and deserving authors, who, despite their talents, succeeded in reaching no public at all other than the unhappy guests who learned from experience to dread the admirable dinners which had to be paid for by listening to literary productions. The practice of recitations on the part of the host must have been quite general, if when no such performance was intended it was considered desirable to mention the fact in the invitations. Martial quotes himself as promising to Stella in inviting him to dinner, that under no provocation will he be tempted to recite anything, not even though Stella should recite his own poem on the “Wars of the Giants.”[264]

Martial explains the inferiority of the literary production of the reign of Domitian by the fact that there was no Mæcenas to give encouragement to authors. All the great poets of the Augustan age had, as he recalls, been placed in easy circumstances (as far as they were not so already) either through the direct bounty of Mæcenas or as a result of his influence over the Court. According to the view of Martial, literature possessing any lasting value is impossible without the leisure and freedom from care which comes from an assured income. Mæcenas, and the fashion of subsidizing literature initiated by him, appear in a crude way, in presenting encouragement for literary work, to have supplied the place of a copyright law.

There may, of course, often have been question as to what constituted a “proper compensation” for a poetical effort. Tacitus speaks of a certain Roman knight, C. Lutorius Priscus, who had won some repute from a poem on the death of Germanicus. He thereupon composed another poem on the death of Drusus (son of Tiberius), who was at the time seriously ill, but who was perverse enough to recover. Priscus had, however, already read his poem aloud, after which he was promptly put to death under a vote of the Senate, whether on account of the badness of the poem, or because he had prophesied the death of the Prince, Tacitus does not state.[265]

Juvenal joins with Martial in characterizing the writing of poetry as an unsatisfactory profession, and hints more strongly than Martial that the profession was spoiled by amateurs. He suggests as a further ground for the absence of first-rate poetry, that all the subjects had been exhausted, meaning, of course, all the mythological subjects. He arrives at the conclusion that poetry and literature in general are dying, and considers this is not to be wondered at, since even if a man of letters makes a sacrifice which ought not to be required of him, and turns schoolmaster, he will be grossly underpaid, and often not able to recover the beggarly pittance which will be due him.[266]

This inadequacy of the legitimate returns for literary work was doubtless considered by Martial as a sufficient justification for utilizing his unquestioned literary cleverness in ways not always legitimate, for, as has been pointed out by Cruttwell, Simcox, and others, not a few of the epigrams look like demands for blackmail. “Somebody”--the poet declines to know who the somebody is--“has given offence”; if the poet should discuss who, so much the worse for somebody. He is full of veiled personalities of the most damaging kind. He deprecates guessing at the persons indicated, but they must have recognized themselves, and have seen the need of propitiating a poet who was at once politic and vindictive. He insists repeatedly upon his successful avoidance of all personal attacks, while he had been lavish of personal compliments. He tells us himself that these were not given gratis, and when somebody whom he has praised ignores the obligation he receives, the fact is published as a general warning. We cannot doubt that when Martial wrote that “there were no baths in the world like the baths of Etruscus,” and that “whoever missed bathing in them would die without bathing,” he expected to be paid in some form or other for the valuable advertisement he was giving to Etruscus.[267] In like manner, when he answers numerous requests for a copy of his poems with a reference to his bookseller, adding a jocose assurance that the poems are not really worth the money, it is fair to assume that the bookseller had paid something for the manuscript or that the author had some continued interest in the sales.[268]

In being obliged by the narrowness of his means to watch thus closely the sales of his booksellers, and in believing himself compelled to pick up _sesterces_ by writing complimentary epigrams or threatening abusive ones, Martial may well have envied the assured position of his contemporary Quintilian, who received from the imperial treasury as a rhetorician a salary, which, with his other emoluments, gave him an income of 100,000 _sesterces_ (about $4000). Quintilian appears to have been the first rhetorician to whom an imperial salary was given.

It is evident that at this time the art of the rhetorician or reciter was still one of importance. The great books of the Claudian period were evidently written to be recited or to please a taste formed by the habit of recitation.[269] After the reign of Claudius the noteworthy works, with the exception perhaps of the _Thebaïd_ of Statius, were certainly written to be read. How many readers they found is a more difficult thing to determine. There was certainly, on the part of some writers at least, no lack of persistency. Labeo, the jurist (who died 13 A.D.), is credited, for instance (or should we say debited?), with the production of no less than four hundred works.[270]

The average editions of works addressed to the general public are estimated by Birt to have comprised not less than five hundred copies, and in many cases a thousand copies.[271] Pliny, writing about 60 A.D., makes reference to a volume by M. Aquilus Regulus (a memoir of his deceased son), of which the author caused to be made one thousand copies for distribution throughout Italy and the provinces. Pliny thinks it rather absurd that for a volume like this, of limited and purely personal interest, the piety and the vanity of the author should have caused an edition to be prepared larger than that usually issued of readable works.[272] Birt is of opinion that there is sufficient evidence in the references of Horace, Propertius, Ovid, Martial, and others, to show the existence of a well organized system for the distribution and sale of books, not only in Italy, but throughout the distant provinces of Gaul, Britain, Germany, and Scythia. Such a distribution, even if restricted to the larger cities, would have been impracticable with editions of much less than one thousand copies.[273] In support of this view regarding a widespread distribution of books, Birt quotes a passage from Pliny concerning the service to literature rendered by Varro.

“Varro was unwilling that the fame of great men should perish, or
that the lapse of years should cause the memory of their deeds to
be lost. He took pains, therefore, in the almost countless volumes
of his writings, to preserve for posterity sketches or studies of
more than seven hundred men who had won renown. Such a device might
well have aroused the envy of the Gods, for these portraitures
were not only thus ensured a permanent existence, but they were
distributed to the farthest corners of the earth, so that the
names of these heroes of the past would, like those of the Gods
themselves, be known in all lands.”[274][275]

Varro, who was a contemporary of Cicero, appears to have interested himself not only in biography, but in almost every department of research. He is credited with forty-one books on antiquities, seventy-six books of edifying dialogues, fifteen books of parallel lives of illustrious Greeks and Romans, twenty-five books on the Latin language, nine books on the “seven liberal arts,” fifteen books on civil law, thirty political memoirs, twenty-two books of speeches, one hundred and fifty satires, and a number of minor works.[276] Such industry and versatility have few parallels in the history of literature, although it is to be borne in mind that the author was favored with length of days, and was able to be active in literary work as late as his eighty-second year. It is evident, however, that there must have been some measure of appreciation on the part of the public and the publisher to have encouraged him to such long-continued production.

Possibly the earliest instance of any practical interest taken by the imperial government in furthering the distribution of literature for the higher education of the public, is presented by an edict of the Emperor Tacitus (275 A.D.), ordering that every public library throughout the Empire should possess not less than ten sets of the writings of his ancestor, Tacitus, the historian. His reign of two hundred days was, however, too brief to enable him to ensure the execution of his decree. It seems probable that if the aged Emperor (he was in his seventy-fifth year when he came to the throne) had been able to carry out his plan, posterity would not have had occasion to mourn the disappearance of so large a portion of the writings of the great historian.

Tacitus, the historian, was born about 60 A.D., in a small town of Umbria. His father was of equestrian rank and a man of importance, and it is interesting to note that the son, instead of being sent to Athens for his education, as was so frequently done with well born youths of the preceding generation, received his university training at Massilia (the modern Marseilles), which by the close of the first century had become an important centre of literature and education. The supremacy of Athens in influencing the higher education of Italy had come to a close, and the centre of intellectual life was moving westward. Tacitus was evidently a man of no little versatility of power. Before achieving lasting fame through his histories and essays, he had won distinction as a lawyer and as an orator, and had served with dignity and success as prætor and consul. He is spoken of as a graceful poet, and was believed also to have been the author of a clever volume of _Facetiæ_.

His _History_ was published some time during the reign of Trajan, in some thirty books, of which less than five have been preserved. His second historical work was published a few years later, in sixteen books, under the title of _Annals_, and of this about nine books have been preserved. The frequent references to these two works and to the well known essay on the Germans, in the writings of the contemporaries and successors of Tacitus, show how important a position they occupied in the literature of the Empire, and show also that copies of them were distributed widely throughout the known world. We have unfortunately no details whatever concerning the method of their publication, and no references to the publishers to whose charge they were confided.

If Tacitus had only, like Martial, been an impecunious writer, we should probably have found in his correspondence with his friend Pliny, or in other of his writings, some mention of his publishing arrangements and of the receipts secured through the sale of his works. It is evident, however, that his official emoluments were sufficient to free him from any necessity of making close calculations concerning earnings by his pen, and it is even possible that he permitted the fortunate publishers, whoever they were to reserve to themselves the profits, which ought to have been considerable, arising from the sales of these important and popular works.

Notwithstanding the gradual decline of Athens towards the close of the second century as a centre of higher education, Greek continued to be throughout the Empire the language not only for many philosophical and scholarly undertakings, but for not a few works planned for popular reading. I mentioned that Massilia (Marseilles) had been selected as the place where the young Tacitus could secure to best advantage a refined education, but Massilia, although a thousand miles from Greece, was a Greek city. It is probably not too much to say that throughout the Roman world, wherever a town came into distinction in any way as a place of intellectual activity and of literary life, it would be found to have possessed a large Greek element. The Greek brains must have served as yeast for the intellectual substance of the Roman world.

Suetonius, writing, about 150 A.D., his work _Ludicra_, comprising treatises on the sports and public games of the Greeks and Romans, gave the work to the public in both Greek and Latin. The _Meditations_ of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, written about 170 were issued only in Greek. Simcox says:

“From the reign of Hadrian onwards until the translation of the
Empire to the East, the intellectual needs of the capital, such as
they were, were supplied by the eastern half of the Empire; all
the upper classes learned Greek in the nursery, and it was the
language of fashionable conversation ... all people who professed
to be serious entertained a Greek philosopher. Their only reason
for keeping up Latin literature at all was that the cleverest
people who had received a literary education wished to be poets
or historians or orators, an ambition which was sustained by the
competitions endowed by Domitian and by the professorships which
were founded by his predecessors and successors.”

I have already referred to the influence of the French language in Germany during the first half of the eighteenth century as presenting a somewhat similar case; but the influence upon German thought and German literature of the French language and literature, rendered fashionable under the Court of Frederick the Great, was of course slight and superficial as compared with the part played in the Roman world by the language and the thought of the Greeks.

Towards the end of the second century Carthage became of literary as well as commercial importance. Latin was the language of administration, and the literary culture of Carthage took upon itself, therefore, a Latin rather than a Greek form.[277] Among the authors who gave form, each in his own very distinctive manner, to the literary school of Carthage were Fronto and Apuleius, and a generation later the Father of the African Church, the theologian Tertullian.

Fronto’s books appear to have been made in Carthage, but were certainly on sale with Roman dealers, and the same was doubtless the case with the witty and popular _Fables_ and _Metamorphoses_ of Apuleius, but the evidence in regard to a publishing trade in Carthage is purely inferential. Aulus Gellius, writing about 170, speaks of picking up in a second-hand book-shop in Brundisium a volume from which he quotes a pretty story. The incident was probably imaginary, for, as Simcox points out, the story was taken from the elder Pliny; but the reference shows that the business of the bookseller was, at the date specified, already sufficiently systematized to support, even in the smaller towns, second-hand book dealers.

It was evident that by the close of the first century the machinery for the making and the distribution of books was sufficiently well organized to secure for authors the opportunity of a world-wide influence. It seems probable, however, that the works which at this date obtained for themselves the widest circulation and influence were not those of living writers, but were still the classics which Greece had originated, but which were so largely given to the world through Rome.

In the fourth century a certain Firmicus Maternus published an astrological work entitled _Mathesis_. The work was dedicated to the proconsul Mavertius Lollianus, who had suggested its preparation, and to him also the author appears to have assigned the control of the publication, with the curious instruction that the two final books (out of the eight of which the work was composed) must by no means be permitted to come into the hands of the general public (_vulgum profanum_), but that the reading of these should be restricted to those who had led holy and priestly lives.[278]

Birt, who is my authority for the incident, does not make clear what means were available for the proconsul by which to enforce this special and difficult discrimination among readers. Birt cites the case, however, as an evidence of the control that could be exercised, and that from time to time was exercised, by the government over the circulation of literature. It is certain, he says, that even the very considerable increase in the facilities for the reproduction of books did not prevent the authorities from undertaking to stop the sale of, and to confiscate, works which, for one reason or another, might work detriment to the State, or which conflicted with the personal interest of the ruler. The earliest example on record of a confiscation dates back to the time when the Athenian Republic was at its height. In the year 411 B.C., as mentioned in the chapter on Greece, the writings of the philosopher Protagoras were burned on the Agora, while the philosopher himself was held to trial for heresy.[279]

The emperors of Rome possessed, of course, a much more unquestioned authority and a more effective machinery for the suppression of doctrines and for the confiscation of books than belonged to the shifting authorities of Athens, and there are examples of a number of imperial decrees for literary confiscation, some of which were based on the real or apparent interests of the State, while not a few can be credited to personal motives.

The first instance of the kind was the order of Augustus for the burning of 2000 copies of certain pseudo-Sibylline books. Those charged with the task were directed not only to take all the stock that could be found in the book-shops, but to make thorough search also for all copies existing in private collections.[280] Caligula attempted a more difficult task, when, according to Suetonius, he undertook to suppress the writings of Homer--_cogitavit de Homeri carminibus abolendis_.[281] He also gave orders, says the historian, which were fortunately only partly carried out, to have destroyed all the writings and all the busts of Virgil and of Livy contained in the libraries. Tiberius ordered that the writings of a certain historian of the time of Augustus should be abolished, _abolita scripta_, by which we may properly understand simply that the copies were to be taken out of all public libraries.[282]

The rigorous measures adopted by Domitian to discourage the sale of the history of Hermogenes of Tarsus, by crucifying the publisher and all the booksellers who had copies in stock, have already been referred to.[283] This history was found objection to on the score of certain designs contained in it, _propter quasdam figuras_. Two other works which failed to secure the approval of this Emperor were the _Laudations_ by Junius Rusticus and Herennius Senecio of Paetus Thrasea and Helvidius Priscus. The two books, that is, all the copies of them that could be secured, were burned in the Forum after having been solemnly condemned under a _senatus consultum_. Senecio was nevertheless able to preserve his own copy.[284]

Not a few of the edicts of confiscation were, however, evidently carried out by a house to house visitation, extending at least to all domiciles known to contain collections of books. Diocletian caused to be collected and destroyed all the ancient manuscripts in Egypt, “which had to do with the chemistry of quicksilver and gold,” περὶ χημείας ἀργυροῦ καὶ χρυσοῦ, _i. e._, with the subject of alchemy.[285] The teachers in Africa of the doctrines of the Manichæans were also ordered to burn their books. The edict of Diocletian, issued 303 A.D., directing the persecution of the Christians, also provided for the destruction of the Christian Scriptures. According to Burckhardt, many Christians came forward with the acknowledgment that they possessed copies of the Scriptures, and, refusing to deliver the same, suffered the martyrdom for which they sought.[286]

Constantine permitted Arius to live unmolested, but his writings were, whenever found, committed to the flames, and any one concealing copies was liable to death. In 448, the Emperor Theodosius issued an edict for the destruction of all works the influence of which was opposed to the Christian faith, an instruction which, if it had been faithfully executed, would have annihilated a large portion of the world’s literature. Among other writers the loss of whose works, excepting only a few fragments, was probably due to the edict, was Porphyry of Tyre, who died about 300 A.D., and who was the ablest of the later scholarly opponents of the Christian doctrines.

St. Jerome relates that a certain Pammachius attempted to recall and to cancel almost immediately after publication the edition of Jerome’s controversial letters against the monk Jovinian, but that his efforts were unsuccessful, for copies of the book had already been distributed in every province.

The legislation of imperial Rome, which, as we have seen, made no specific provision for the protection of the rights of authors, also omitted to institute any measures for the public supervision of books. It was under the general provisions of the criminal law that the publication of writings on certain special subjects was prevented or was punished, and that the authors, publishers, and sometimes even the possessors of the works regarded as injurious to individuals or as likely to cause detriment to the State, became subject to penalties the severity of which varied with the times.[287] Several of the imperial edicts characterized libellous publications as acts of _lese-majesté_ or treason.[288]

It would not be in order to bring to a close this sketch of the history of literary property under the rule of the Romans, without reference to the contribution made by Roman jurists to the analysis of its origin and nature, although such contribution was but slight. The theories and conclusions of these jurists are of interest not on the ground of their having had any effect on the status of literary production throughout the Empire, but on account of the far-reaching influence of Roman jurisprudence upon the conceptions and the legislation of the mediæval and of the modern world.

As Klostermann points out, the Roman jurists interested themselves in the subject of property in an intellectual or immaterial creation rather as a matter of theoretical speculation than as one calling for legislation; and, as we have already seen, there is no record of any such legislation, imperial or municipal, having been instituted during the existence of the Roman State. Some of the earlier discussions as to the nature of property in formulated ideas appear to have turned upon the question as to whether such property should take precedence over that in the material which happened to be made use of for the expression of the ideas.

The disciples of Proculus (a lawyer living at about 50 A.D.) maintained that the occupation of alien material, so as to make of it a new thing, gave a property right to him who had reworked or reshaped it; while the school of Sabinus (who was himself a contemporary of Proculus) insisted that the ownership of the material must carry with it the title to whatever was produced upon the material. Justinian, or rather, I understand, Tribonianus, writing in the name of the Emperor (about 520 A.D.), took a middle ground, following the opinion of Gaius. Tribonianus concluded, namely, that the decision must be influenced by the possibility of restoring the material to its original form, and more particularly by the question as to whether the material or that which had been produced upon it were the more essential. The original opinion of Gaius appears to have had reference to the ownership of a certain table upon which a picture had been painted, and the decision was in favor of the artist. This decision (dating from about 160 A.D.) contains an unmistakable recognition of immaterial property, not, to be sure, in the sense of a right to exclusive reproduction, but in the particular application, that, while material property depends upon the substance, immaterial property, that is to say property in the presentation of ideas, depends upon the form.[289]

The opinion, as given in the _Institutes_ of Justinian, is as follows:

_Si quis in aliena tabula pinxerit, quidam putant tabulam picturæ cedere, aliis videtur picturam, qualiscunque sit, tabulæ cedere; sed nobis videtur melius esse, tabulam picturæ cedere. Ridiculum est enim picturam Apellis vel Parrhasii in accessionem vilissimæ tabulæ cedere._[290]

It is certainly curious that a question of this kind, first presented for consideration in the middle of the first century, should have been still under discussion nearly five centuries later.

An application of this same principle is presented in legal usage to-day, under which authors and artists are empowered to take possession of reproductions of their works even against innocent third parties or against the owners of the material on which such reproductions have been made.

The fact that papyrus rather than parchment was the material adopted by authors during the fruitful period of Latin literature, had of course an important bearing in the continued existence of their works, for papyrus was an extremely perishable substance. Damp, worms, moths, mice, were all deadly enemies of papyrus rolls, but even if, through persistent watchfulness, these were guarded against, the mere handling of the rolls, even by the most careful readers, brought them rapidly to destruction. We find, therefore, that a constant renewal of the rolls was required in all public libraries, just as to-day our librarians find it necessary to replace their supply of copies of books of popular authors which have become worn out by handling. The ancient librarian had, however, a more arduous and a more expensive task with his renewals. A reference of Pliny gives us an impression of the average age that could be looked for for a papyrus book.

“_Ita sint longinqua monumenta; Tiberi Gaique Gracchorum manus. Apud Pomponium Secundum vatem civemque clarissimum vidi annos fere post ducentos; jam vero Ciceronis ac divi Augusti Vergilique sæpe numero videmus._”[291]

We understand, therefore, that (with certain precautions) a book could last for one hundred years, but that a volume two centuries old was for Pliny something so exceptional as to be almost incredible.

The papyrus rolls were of course exposed to the most serious friction at the opening portions which were in immediate contact with one of the rollers where two rollers were employed, and which in any case were exposed to the most frequent handling. As a consequence, it was the initial page of books which first came to destruction, and of not a few works which were otherwise in readable condition these initial pages were lacking. A quotation from Eusebius, cited by Birt, shows that it was even a matter of surprise when a copy of the works of such a writer as Clement was found complete, with title and preface.[292]

In many of the libraries, it was also not uncommon to find that the different rolls of a particular work had been wrongly numbered in one of the transcribings, and had consequently been mixed up as to their arrangement. It was not infrequent even to find the rolls of the works of different authors jumbled together, in such a manner that no little scholarly skill was requisite for their proper understanding and correct rearrangement.[293]

The papyrus manuscripts from the Athenian, Alexandrian, and Roman workshops, as far as they have escaped destruction through imperial edicts, civil wars, and invasions, were permitted to fall into decay, and were not replaced. By the close of the fourth century, the great collections of papyrus rolls, in which were contained the classics of Greek and Roman literature, had practically disappeared. For later book-making, parchment replaced papyrus, a change which, if it had occurred two centuries, or even one century earlier, would, in spite of edicts of destruction, have preserved for future generations not a few of the lost “classics.” A small proportion of the Greek and Roman writings, in copies dating from the later literary period, had been placed on parchment, and some few of these have been handed down to us through the intervention of Christian monks, who had taken possession of the parchment for church documents or codices, but who in their own inscribing had not destroyed, or had only partially destroyed, the original writing. I have already made reference to this practice of making one piece of parchment do a double service, and to the name of _palimpsest_, by which such a doubly inscribed parchment was known.

In the early part of the fourth century several factors came into operation which checked the development and finally undermined the existence of the publishing and bookselling trade of Rome. First among these factors I should name the growing power and influence of the Christian Church.

In the centuries which elapsed between the downfall of the Roman Empire and the invention of printing, the centres of intellectual activities and of scholarly interests were undoubtedly the churches and the monasteries, and it is probable that if it had not been for the educational work done by the priests and monks, and for the interest taken by them (however inadequately and ignorantly) in the literature of the past, the fragments of this literature which have been preserved for to-day would have been much less considerable and more fragmentary than they are. As I understand the history, the literary interests of the world owe very much to the fostering care given to them by the Church, or by certain portions of the Church, during the troublous centuries of the early Middle Ages. During these centuries the Church not only supplied a standard of morality, but kept in existence whatever intellectual life there was.

At the time, however, when the Christian Church was rapidly extending its influence throughout the Roman Empire, and during the century after it had succeeded in winning over to the faith the emperors themselves, and had become the official Church of the Empire, the evidence goes to show that its influence was decidedly detrimental to the literary productiveness of the age and also inimical to the preservation of the literary masterpieces of previous ages.

As the range of membership of the Church increased, so that it came to include a larger proportion of men of cultivation and scholarship, there came into existence a considerable body of theological and controversial writings, the production of which has gone on steadily increasing until very recent times. But the reading of the works of “pagan” writers was discouraged, and the manuscripts themselves were first neglected, and later suffered to fall into decay. Such writing as was done by the Christian scribes was in the main limited to the transcribing of the books then accepted as scriptures and to the copying of prayers and hymns. The mental activities of both writers and readers were turned in other directions. Scholars gave their scholarship and trained copyists their clerical skill to the service of the Church. It was not merely that the Church took possession for its own work of so large a proportion of the best minds of the time. It directly discouraged then, as it did for many centuries thereafter, the study of any literature other than ecclesiastical. The writers of Greece and Rome were, for Christian believers, if not heretical, at least frivolous and time-wasting. Life was short and Christian duties left no free hours for Homer or Virgil, Plato or Epictetus. By the time of the accession of Constantine (306 A.D.) the book-shops on the Argiletum had lessened in number and in importance, the connections of the Roman publishers with the great towns of the provinces were for the most part broken off, and, most important of the signs of the times, there are no new books and no writers at work. Literary productiveness has for the time ceased.

The second cause which contributed to the destruction of the book-trade of Rome was the decision of Constantine to remove the capital of the Empire to Byzantium. The transfer was completed in the year 328, and for a number of years after that date there was no imperial Court in Rome. The “world of fashion” had migrated to the Bosphorus, and with the Court officials, the judges, the advocates, and the military leaders, had gone a large proportion of the active-minded men of the old capital, the men of intellectual interests. There remained the Bishop of Rome (soon to become Primate of the Latin Church) and his increasing staff of ecclesiastics, but to them, as pointed out, the literature of the classical period was either a matter of indifference or an abomination. The direction of the education of the young Romans must soon have come into the hands of the priests, and this would have increased their power to crush out the interest in, and the remembrance of, the literary productions of paganism.

A third factor which hastened the decline of Latin literature and the extinction of the book-trade of Rome, was the revival of the use of Greek, which, after the establishment of the capital at Constantinople, speedily became the official language of the Empire and the speech of the Court and of polite society generally.

I do not forget that there shortly came into existence an Empire of the West, under which Rome resumed (although with sadly reduced splendor) its position as an imperial capital. But the western emperors appear on the whole to have been a feeble lot, and they certainly did not succeed in gathering about them any number of men of “light and learning,” nor is there evidence of any substantial revival of the social or intellectual activities of Rome. The times continued troublous. The State had to fight almost continuously for its existence, and the fighting was not infrequently near at home, the city itself being from time to time menaced. The “peace of the Empire” existed no longer. It was not a time for the development of literature, and literature, excepting a small body of doctrinal and controversial publications of the Church, practically disappeared.

After the expansion, in 379, of the prerogatives of the Roman See, the literary activities of the ecclesiastics increased, but it does not appear that any bookselling machinery was required or employed for the sale or distribution of the works of devotion, of doctrine, or of controversy. This distribution was doubtless managed directly by the priests themselves. The capture of Rome by the Goths under Alaric, in 410, brought destruction upon the accumulated wealth and trade of the city, but it is not probable that the tradespeople whose shops were despoiled included any considerable number of booksellers, as, according to my understanding, the trade in books had in great part disappeared some years before. The Goths doubtless had, however, not a little to do with the destruction of as many of the classic manuscripts as still existed in the public libraries or in private collections. It is certain that they would have had no appreciation for and no use for any manuscripts that fell into their hands. The more recent and still inconsiderable collections of Church manuscripts shared, of course, in the general destruction, but these (apart from a few relics) could easily be replaced.

The Goths disappeared like the rolling back of a flood after its work of devastation has been completed; and the insignificant series of Emperors of the West resumed their sway over the ruins of the imperial city.

The city was restored to a semblance of its old self; but we find no further traces of the production or of the sale of books. It is probable that when, in 476, Odoacer, chief of the Herulians, gave the final blow to the Empire of the West, and took possession of its capital, he found there, outside of the few treatises and books of worship of the Church, practically nothing in the shape of literature.

The rule of the Herulian was short; in less than twenty years he was overthrown by the Goth, and Theodoric came into possession of Rome and undertook the task of organizing a kingdom out of the much harried territory of Italy.

In the later portion of his reign, after the city had been favored with a few years of peace and of freedom from the dread of invasion, there was some revival of intellectual and literary interests. Cassiodorus, prætor, prefect, quæstor, and later “master of the offices,” won fame as court orator and official letter-writer. He wrote a Gothic history in twelve books (which has disappeared), and a collection of letters and state-papers entitled _Variæ_, also in twelve books. Of greater permanent importance was the work of the philosopher Boëthius. Hodgkin says of him:

“Boëthius was the skilful mechanic who constructed the water-clock
and sun-dial for the King of the Burgundians ... a man of great
and varied accomplishments--philosopher, theologian, musician, and
mathematician. He had translated thirty books of Aristotle into
Latin for the benefit of his countrymen; his treatise on music was
for many centuries the authoritative exposition of the science of
harmony.”[294]

His greatest work was _The Consolation of Philosophy_, which was composed while the philosopher was in prison awaiting sentence of death. This was rendered into English by King Alfred and by Geoffrey Chaucer; translations were made into every European tongue, and copies were to be found in every mediæval convent library. The _Consolation_ is written partly in prose and partly in verse. Hodgkin is of opinion that its writer was at the time a Christian.

The production of this work is the only literary event which marks the rule of Rome by the Goths, and in fact, unless we include the “master of the offices,” Cassiodorus, with his court orations and courtly letters, there appeared during the time no other writer of whose work record has remained. We can infer that some means existed in connection either with the Court or with the convents for the production of copies of the _Consolation_ and of the translation of Aristotle. The latter work, having been prepared, as its translator says, “for the benefit of his countrymen,” was evidently planned for some general circulation.

As there is no evidence of the existence at the time of any bookselling machinery, it is probable that for the multiplication and distribution of his volumes, Boëthius depended upon the scribes of the Church and upon the connections with each other of the convents throughout Europe. It is undoubtedly through the libraries of the convents (the only places in Europe which were to any extent protected against ravages of war) that the _Consolation_ was preserved.

After the death of Theodoric, Italy became the camping ground and the fighting place for successive hordes of Lombards, Saracens, and Franks. Social organization must have almost disappeared. Of scholarly or literary production there is again for some centuries hardly a trace. _Inter arma silent styli._ What intellectual life, outside of the monasteries, was still active in Europe must be looked for at the Court of the Greek Emperors of Constantinople.