Chapter IX: Section IV: Literature and Art

Next to the moral condition of mankind, their intellectual state is the most interesting subject of inquiry. The dark ages form a kind of parenthesis in the history of the human mind in Europe. A long and brilliant period of intellectual cultivation and energy preceded them; and an era, in many respects, of still higher attainment and of richer promise has followed. The night which comes between two such days seems very gloomy, yet is there much truth in the observation, "that there was always a faint twilight, like that auspicious gleam, which, in a summer's night, fills up the interval between the setting and the rising sun."[1] Nor should it be forgotten, that before the commencement of the mediæval period, there had been a great decline in sound learning; and that the nations of Europe, whose ignorance we deplore, were, for the most part, the descendants not of the classic nations of antiquity, but of the rude barbarians of the north.

Whatever measure of intellectual cultivation may have relieved the prevailing darkness, it emanated from the church. To men of the ecclesiastical profession we are indebted for the preservation of ancient literature; and they were almost the only authors who wrote during the period. The church afforded an asylum for the studious; and, in those times, quiet and reflective minds would naturally seek refuge in its bosom. It is difficult, even after much inquiry, to form a definite and accurate idea of the literary aspect of Europe in the dark ages; and next to impossible to convey, in the short space which we can here allot to it, a correct impression of the result of such inquiries. The seventh century may be fixed on as the nadir of the human mind.[2] Faint traces of the spirit of literature cheer the subsequent space of five hundred years, after which a very considerable revival of learning took place. General remarks as to the state of literature in Europe, daring the whole of this period, are likely to mislead, because the state of one country and of one century materially differed from another. The spirit of literature may be said to have migrated from land to land; now visiting the shores of Ireland and England, then passing over to France and Germany, and touching upon Italy, till there, in its classic form, it found a congenial home. Ireland and England were, probably, much in advance of their contemporaries, in the seventh and eighth centuries, but afterwards declined. France revived in the ninth, and went on progressing during the following ages; and, towards the latter part of the tenth century, Germany possessed many learned churchmen. In Italy, signs of improvement are perceptible in the eleventh century, but classical literature did not flourish there till the fifteenth.

A considerable number of books were written during the very darkest periods of the middle ages. They treat of various subjects connected with theology and the church. Several of the authors were evidently studious men, and were, for the time in which they lived, extensively acquainted with books. It should also be stated, that they were certainly not so ignorant of Scripture, so far as the letter of it was concerned, as is generally supposed. In looking over the writers of the middle ages, down to the monkish chroniclers and legendary tale-tellers, the reader finds frequent use made of Scripture language; the application of it, however, shows, in a great number of instances, a deplorable ignorance of its proper sense, and but little sympathy with its true spirit. "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 is literature and philosophy."[3]

What might be the average state of the clergy, in reference to the possession of knowledge, during the middle ages, is an interesting question, but one, like many others, difficult to answer. There can be no doubt that many ecclesiastics could not write, but it appears that ability to read, at least the service books, was a common attainment. Notices of extreme ignorance, in some countries, at certain times, may be found; for instance, king Alfred complains, in his day, that there were very few on the south side of the Humber, and none on the south side of the Thames, who could translate the Latin service into English; and Ratherius, bishop of Verona, in the tenth century, laments that he had found many clergy in his diocese who did not know (_sapere_) the apostles' creed.[4] But, perhaps, it would be unfair to take these as decisive proofs of the ignorance of the clergy in general, during the dark ages. The state of things assuredly was mournful enough, without adding to them any imaginary aggravations.

Ecclesiastics were the only instructors in those days; but there is no evidence of their having shown much zeal in the enlightenment of the mass of the people. It is true there were schools connected with monasteries and cathedrals, but these institutions were for the education of such persons as were intended for the service of the church. The chief promoters of learning among the laity, to any great extent, were Charlemagne and Alfred, who brought to their assistance the more enlightened men of their times. Parish schools were established by the bishop of Orleans, upon whom Charlemagne placed much dependence in carrying out his liberal views, and, in these schools, education was gratuitously provided for such children as their parents might choose to send.[5] Alfred also greatly exerted himself to extend the benefits of education over his own country: most of the noble, and many of the inferior orders, were placed under the care of masters, who taught them not only to read in Latin and Saxon books, but also to write.[6] Such facts, however, constitute the exception, rather than the rule, respecting the cultivation of the minds of laymen. Undoubtedly the higher as well as the lower classes were immersed in the deepest shades of ignorance; pursuits conducive to the improvement of their physical strength being, as a matter of course, in such an age, much more highly valued than those which tended to increase intellectual vigour. "For many centuries, to sum up the account of ignorance in a word, it was rare for a layman, of whatever rank, to know how to sign his name. Their charters, till the use of seals became general, were subscribed with the mark of the cross. Still more extraordinary was it to find one who had any tincture of learning. Even admitting every indistinct commendation of a monkish biographer, (with whom a knowledge of church music would pass for literature,) we could make out a very short list of scholars. None, certainly, were more distinguished as such than Charlemagne and Alfred. But the former, unless we reject a very plain testimony, was incapable of writing, and Alfred found difficulty in making a translation from the pastoral instruction of St. Gregory, on account of his imperfect knowledge of Latin."[7]

The church did more for art than she did for literature. It is in the nature of Christianity, even when imperfectly understood, or greatly corrupted, to produce an influence friendly to civilisation, and its attendant comforts, and thereby to foster the growth of the useful arts, of which the changes wrought in the barbaric nations, during the early part of the mediæval period, by the introduction of Christianity among them, are striking proofs: and in addition to this, it must be acknowledged that the innovations which, by that time, had been made upon the simplicity of gospel worship, operated in the same direction. The advantage, however, which thus accrued to the artistic civilisation of society, will be deemed, by Christian minds, a poor compensation for the mischief done to the interests of religion, and the souls of men, by the corruption of the service of God.

The study of architecture was a pursuit to which many of the clergy early devoted themselves; and though the ecclesiastical structures, from the seventh to the twelfth century, were far inferior to those which were afterwards reared, they were undoubtedly much superior to the generality of buildings of the period to which they belonged. The edifices reared by our Saxon fathers, in this island, before the arrival of the missionaries from Rome, were extremely humble; but the latter soon introduced a taste for structures of a higher order. Places of worship, rudely constructed of oaken planks, and covered with thatch, were succeeded by churches of polished masonry, with lofty towers, glazed windows, and roofs sheeted with lead. But convenience and taste, such as might have comported with the simplicity of Christian worship, did not suffice; the magnificence of Romish decorations and ceremonies found their way into the Saxon sanctuary. Pictures were brought from Rome by Augustin and Benedict, and placed in churches: a stimulus certainly was thus given to the art of painting. Images, crucifixes, and lamps of precious materials, and elaborate workmanship, were also introduced, and the manufacture of these afforded employ and encouragement to the goldsmith. The making of church bells was another important branch of industry; and the costly robes worn by the priests put the arts of weaving, embroidery, and dyeing in requisition. Splendid service books were also used; and for the production of these it was necessary to cultivate the art of ornamental writing, gilding, and setting precious stones. Servants skilled in these various employments might be found in the establishments of ecclesiastical dignitaries, and among the inmates of monasteries: nor did the clergy themselves deem it any degradation to practise the useful and elegant arts. The performance of mass led to the cultivation of a taste for music. Beside the harp and different kinds of wind instruments, such as the flute and horn, early mention is made of the organ, an instrument of which Bede gives a minute description: and attention seems to have been paid to music regarded as a science. The gentle and soothing influence of harmonious sounds will scarcely fail to be recognised as having been a civilizing power upon the minds of many a rude inhabitant of the British isles; and, in a little melody which has floated down to us from those distant times, we find express mention of the effect produced upon Canute the Great, who as he was approaching Ely in his boat, with his queen and courtiers, heard the music of the monks at their devotions, and was so affected that he told the rowers to pause, that he might listen to the sounds which were wafted by the breeze from the church, which stood on the rock before him.[8] Some of the hymns sung in those days were very beautiful; and to those who understood them, they conveyed sentiments adapted to elevate the tone of moral and religious feeling, by directing the heart to the source of all piety and virtue. Such was the following hymn, chanted in many a monastery at the hour of prime:--

"Now that the sun is gleaming bright
Implore we, bending low.
That He, the uncreated light,
May guide us as we go.

No sinful word, nor deed of wrong,
Nor thoughts that idly rove,
But simple truth be on our tongue,
And in our hearts be love.

And while the hours in order flow,
O Christ, securely fence
Our gates, beleaguer'd by the foe,
The gate of every sense.

And grant that to thine honour, Lord,
Our daily toil may tend,
That we begin it at thy word,
And in thy favour end."[9]

In bringing to a close this rapid survey of the influence of the church, during the middle ages, upon the manners, morals, literature, and arts of society, we cannot suppress the remark, which, however, must be obvious to every one, who at all thinks upon the subject, that the decided benefits emanating from this source, proceeded from so much of the genuine spirit of Christianity as still remained within its bosom, while benefits of but a doubtful, or imperfect kind, and evils, some of them most flagrant in their nature, were the fruit of institutions which men had officiously planted around the temple of God. Nor, when attempting to estimate the social good and evil thus produced, should we forget to think of the far larger amount of good, with no attendant evil, which might have been produced had Christianity been preserved in her purity, and her heaven-born energies been fully developed and directed to the improvement of mankind. Assuredly the church failed to perform her mission; and the benefits she actually conferred on society were but scanty and imperfect specimens of those rich and clustered blessings, which, if faithful to her Lord, she would have been enabled plentifully to scatter over all the nations of the world. It affords matter for curious speculation to inquire, what might have been the course of European history if Christianity had continued uncorrupt from the beginning, and the church had maintained her purity. Perhaps the progress of decay in the Roman empire might have been arrested, and the spirit of a new and righteous civilisation might have been infused into the commonwealth: or, if that had not been the case, yet the destiny of the nations, into which that colossal power was broken up, might have been one of far more rapid and decided advancement than it has proved to be. Much of the social conflict and confusion of the middle ages, perhaps, might have been prevented, and the human mind preserved from its deep and long degradation. The course of civilisation, instead of being like the troubled mountain stream, dashing, roaring, foaming, and eddying on its way, might rather have resembled the deep broad river, flowing calmly and steadily on, and reflecting from its glassy surface the hues of heaven.

[1] Harris, Phil. Enq.

[2] See Hallam, Introd. to Lit. of Europe, vol. i.

[3] Hallam, Introd. to Lit. of Europe, vol. i. 11.

[4] D'Achery, Spic. i. 381.

[5] Mansi, tom. xiii. p. 993. Giesler, ii. 34.

[6] Sharon Turner, Anglo-Saxons, vol. iii. 14.

[7] Hallam, Middle Ages, chap. ix. p. 1.

[8] Sharon Turner Anglo-Saxons, vol. iii. 279.

[9] Translation from Quarterly Rev. No. 118, p. 324.