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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60bd7ce --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63574 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63574) diff --git a/old/63574-0.txt b/old/63574-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5685f68..0000000 --- a/old/63574-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3018 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rise of Universities, by Charles Homer -Haskins - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Rise of Universities - -Author: Charles Homer Haskins - -Release Date: October 29, 2020 [EBook #63574] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES *** - - - - - THE COLVER LECTURES - IN BROWN UNIVERSITY - - 1923 - - THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES - - BY - - CHARLES H. HASKINS - - - - - COLVER LECTURES - - HUMAN LIFE AS THE BIOLOGIST - SEES IT - - BY VERNON KELLOGG - - - Published by - HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY - - - - - BROWN UNIVERSITY. THE COLVER LECTURES, 1923 - - THE - RISE OF UNIVERSITIES - - - BY - CHARLES HOMER HASKINS - - GURNEY PROFESSOR OF HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE - DEAN OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF ARTS AND SCIENCES - HARVARD UNIVERSITY - - [Illustration] - - - NEW YORK - HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY - 1923 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1923 - BY BROWN UNIVERSITY - - - PRINTED IN - UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - - TO MY STUDENTS - IN THREE UNIVERSITIES - 1888-1923 - - - - -The Colver lectureship is provided by a fund of $10,000 presented to -the University by Mr. and Mrs. Jesse L. Rosenberger of Chicago in -memory of Mrs. Rosenberger’s father, Charles K. Colver of the class of -1842. The following sentences from the letter accompanying the gift -explain the purposes of the foundation:-- - -“It is desired that, so far as possible, for these lectures only -subjects of particular importance and lecturers eminent in scholarship -or of other marked qualifications shall be chosen. It is desired that -the lectures shall be distinctive and valuable contributions to human -knowledge, known for their quality rather than their number. Income, -or portions of income, not used for lectures may be used for the -publication of any of the lectures deemed desirable to be so published.” - -Charles Kendrick Colver (1821-1896) was a graduate of Brown University -of the class of 1842. The necrologist of the University wrote of him: -“He was distinguished for his broad and accurate scholarship, his -unswerving personal integrity, championship of truth, and obedience -to God in his daily life. He was severely simple and unworldly in -character.” - -The lectures now published in this series are:-- - -1916 - - _The American Conception of Liberty and Government_, by Frank Johnson - Goodnow, LL.D., President of Johns Hopkins University. - -1917 - - _Medical Research and Human Welfare_, by W. W. Keen, M.D., LL.D. - (Brown), Emeritus Professor of Surgery, Jefferson Medical College, - Philadelphia. - -1918 - - _The Responsible State: A Reëxamination of Fundamental Political - Doctrines in the Light of World War and the Menace of Anarchism_, - by Franklin Henry Giddings, LL.D., Professor of Sociology and the - History of Civilization in Columbia University; sometime Professor - of Political Science in Bryn Mawr College. - -1919 - - _Democracy: Discipline: Peace_, by William Roscoe Thayer. - -1920 - - _Plymouth and the Pilgrims_, by Arthur Lord. - -1921 - - _Human Life as the Biologist Sees It_, by Vernon Kellogg, Sc.D., - LL.D., Secretary, National Research Council; sometime Professor in - Stanford University. - -1922 - - _The Rise of Universities_, by Charles H. Haskins, Ph.D., LL.D., - Litt.D., Gurney Professor of History and Political Science, Dean of - the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences, in Harvard University. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGES - - I. THE EARLIEST UNIVERSITIES 3-36 - Introduction 3 - Bologna and the South 10 - Paris and the North 19 - The mediaeval inheritance 31 - - II. THE MEDIAEVAL PROFESSOR 37-78 - Studies and textbooks 37 - Teaching and examinations 54 - Academic status and freedom 68 - - III. THE MEDIAEVAL STUDENT 79-126 - Sources of information 79 - Student manuals 89 - Student letters 102 - Student poetry 111 - Conclusion 120 - - BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 127-130 - - INDEX 131-134 - - - - -THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES - - - - -THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES - - -I - -THE EARLIEST UNIVERSITIES - - -Universities, like cathedrals and parliaments, are a product of the -Middle Ages. The Greeks and the Romans, strange as it may seem, had -no universities in the sense in which the word has been used for the -past seven or eight centuries. They had higher education, but the terms -are not synonymous. Much of their instruction in law, rhetoric, and -philosophy it would be hard to surpass, but it was not organized into -the form of permanent institutions of learning. A great teacher like -Socrates gave no diplomas; if a modern student sat at his feet for -three months, he would demand a certificate, something tangible and -external to show for it--an excellent theme, by the way, for a Socratic -dialogue. Only in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries do there -emerge in the world those features of organized education with which -we are most familiar, all that machinery of instruction represented -by faculties and colleges and courses of study, examinations and -commencements and academic degrees. In all these matters we are the -heirs and successors, not of Athens and Alexandria, but of Paris and -Bologna. - -The contrast between these earliest universities and those of today -is of course broad and striking. Throughout the period of its origins -the mediaeval university had no libraries, laboratories, or museums, -no endowment or buildings of its own; it could not possibly have met -the requirements of the Carnegie Foundation! As an historical textbook -from one of the youngest of American universities tells us, with an -unconscious touch of local color, it had “none of the attributes -of the material existence which with us are so self-evident.” The -mediaeval university was, in the fine old phrase of Pasquier, “built -of men”--_bâtie en hommes_. Such a university had no board of trustees -and published no catalogue; it had no student societies--except so far -as the university itself was fundamentally a society of students--no -college journalism, no dramatics, no athletics, none of those “outside -activities” which are the chief excuse for inside inactivity in the -American college. - -And yet, great as these differences are, the fact remains that the -university of the twentieth century is the lineal descendant of -mediaeval Paris and Bologna. They are the rock whence we were hewn, the -hole of the pit whence we were digged. The fundamental organization -is the same, the historic continuity is unbroken. They created the -university tradition of the modern world, that common tradition which -belongs to all our institutions of higher learning, the newest as well -as the oldest, and which all college and university men should know -and cherish. The origin and nature of these earliest universities -is the subject of these three lectures. The first will deal with -university institutions, the second with university instruction, the -third with the life of university students. - - * * * * * - -In recent years the early history of universities has begun to -attract the serious attention of historical scholars, and mediaeval -institutions of learning have at last been lifted out of the region -of myth and fable where they long lay obscured. We now know that the -foundation of the University of Oxford was not one of the many virtues -which the millennial celebration could properly ascribe to King Alfred; -that Bologna did not go back to the Emperor Theodosius; that the -University of Paris did not exist in the time of Charlemagne, or for -nearly four centuries afterward. It is hard, even for the modern world, -to realize that many things had no founder or fixed date of beginning -but instead “just grew,” arising slowly and silently without definite -record. This explains why, in spite of all the researches of Father -Denifle and Dean Rashdall and the local antiquaries, the beginnings of -the oldest universities are obscure and often uncertain, so that we -must content ourselves sometimes with very general statements. - -The occasion for the rise of universities was a great revival of -learning, not that revival of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries to -which the term is usually applied, but an earlier revival, less known -though in its way quite as significant, which historians now call the -renaissance of the twelfth century. So long as knowledge was limited -to the seven liberal arts of the early Middle Ages, there could be no -universities, for there was nothing to teach beyond the bare elements -of grammar, rhetoric, logic, and the still barer notions of arithmetic, -astronomy, geometry, and music, which did duty for an academic -curriculum. Between 1100 and 1200, however, there came a great influx -of new knowledge into western Europe, partly through Italy and Sicily, -but chiefly through the Arab scholars of Spain--the works of Aristotle, -Euclid, Ptolemy, and the Greek physicians, the new arithmetic, and -those texts of the Roman law which had lain hidden through the Dark -Ages. In addition to the elementary propositions of triangle and -circle, Europe now had those books of plane and solid geometry which -have done duty in schools and colleges ever since; instead of the -painful operations with Roman numerals--how painful one can readily see -by trying a simple problem of multiplication or division with these -characters--it was now possible to work readily with Arabic figures; in -the place of Boethius the “Master of them that know” became the teacher -of Europe in logic, metaphysics, and ethics. In law and medicine men -now possessed the fulness of ancient learning. This new knowledge burst -the bonds of the cathedral and monastery schools and created the -learned professions; it drew over mountains and across the narrow seas -eager youths who, like Chaucer’s Oxford clerk of a later day, ‘would -gladly learn and gladly teach,’ to form in Paris and Bologna those -academic gilds which have given us our first and our best definition of -a university, a society of masters and scholars. - -To this general statement concerning the twelfth century there is one -partial exception, the medical university of Salerno. Here, a day’s -journey to the south of Naples, in territory at first Lombard and later -Norman, but still in close contact with the Greek East, a school of -medicine had existed as early as the middle of the eleventh century, -and for perhaps two hundred years thereafter it was the most renowned -medical centre in Europe. In this “city of Hippocrates” the medical -writings of the ancient Greeks were expounded and even developed on the -side of anatomy and surgery, while its teachings were condensed into -pithy maxims of hygiene which have not yet lost their vogue--“after -dinner walk a mile,” etc. Of the academic organization of Salerno we -know nothing before 1231, and when in this year the standardizing -hand of Frederick II regulated its degrees Salerno had already been -distanced by newer universities farther north. Important in the -history of medicine, it had no influence on the growth of university -institutions. - -If the University of Salerno is older in time, that of Bologna has -a much larger place in the development of higher education. And -while Salerno was known only as a school of medicine, Bologna was a -many-sided institution, though most noteworthy as the centre of the -revival of the Roman law. Contrary to a common impression, the Roman -law did not disappear from the West in the early Middle Ages, but its -influence was greatly diminished as a result of the Germanic invasions. -Side by side with the Germanic codes, Roman law survived as the -customary law of the Roman population, known no longer through the -great law books of Justinian but in elementary manuals and form-books -which grew thinner and more jejune as time went on. The _Digest_, -the most important part of the _Corpus Juris Civilis_, disappears -from view between 603 and 1076; only two manuscripts survived; in -Maitland’s phrase, it “barely escaped with its life.” Legal study -persisted, if at all, merely as an apprenticeship in the drafting of -documents, a form of applied rhetoric. Then, late in the eleventh -century, and closely connected with the revival of trade and town -life, came a revival of law, foreshadowing the renaissance of the -century which followed. This revival can be traced at more than one -point in Italy, perhaps not first at Bologna, but here it soon found -its centre for the geographical reasons which, then as now, made this -city the meeting-point of the chief routes of communication in northern -Italy. Some time before 1100 we hear of a professor named Pepo, “the -bright and shining light of Bologna”; by 1119 we meet with the phrase -_Bononia docta_. At Bologna, as at Paris, a great teacher stands at -the beginning of university development. The teacher who gave Bologna -its reputation was one Irnerius, perhaps the most famous of the many -great professors of law in the Middle Ages. Just what he wrote and -what he taught are still subjects of dispute among scholars, but he -seems to have fixed the method of ‘glossing’ the law texts upon the -basis of a comprehensive use of the whole _Corpus Juris_, as contrasted -with the meagre epitomes of the preceding centuries, fully and finally -separating the Roman law from rhetoric and establishing it firmly as -a subject of professional study. Then, about 1140, Gratian, a monk of -San Felice, composed the _Decretum_ which became the standard text -in canon law, thus marked off from theology as a distinct subject of -higher study; and the preëminence of Bologna as a law school was fully -assured. - -A student class had now appeared, expressing itself in correspondence -and in poetry, and by 1158 it was sufficiently important in Italy to -receive a formal grant of rights and privileges from Emperor Frederick -Barbarossa, though no particular town or university is mentioned. By -this time Bologna had become the resort of some hundreds of students, -not only from Italy but from beyond the Alps. Far from home and -undefended, they united for mutual protection and assistance, and this -organization of foreign, or Transmontane, students was the beginning of -the university. In this union they seem to have followed the example of -the gilds already common in Italian cities. Indeed, the word university -means originally such a group or corporation in general, and only -in time did it come to be limited to gilds of masters and students, -_universitas societas magistrorum discipulorumque_. Historically, the -word university has no connection with the universe or the universality -of learning; it denotes only the totality of a group, whether of -barbers, carpenters, or students did not matter. The students of -Bologna organized such a university first as a means of protection -against the townspeople, for the price of rooms and necessaries rose -rapidly with the crowd of new tenants and consumers, and the individual -student was helpless against such profiteering. United, the students -could bring the town to terms by the threat of departure as a body, -secession, for the university, having no buildings, was free to move, -and there are many historic examples of such migrations. Better rent -one’s rooms for less than not rent them at all, and so the student -organizations secured the power to fix the prices of lodgings and books -through their representatives. - -Victorious over the townsmen, the students turned on ‘their other -enemies, the professors.’ Here the threat was a collective boycott, -and as the masters lived at first wholly from the fees of their pupils, -this threat was equally effective. The professor was put under bond to -live up to a minute set of regulations which guaranteed his students -the worth of the money paid by each. We read in the earliest statutes -(1317) that a professor might not be absent without leave, even a -single day, and if he desired to leave town he had to make a deposit -to ensure his return. If he failed to secure an audience of five for -a regular lecture, he was fined as if absent--a poor lecture indeed -which could not secure five hearers! He must begin with the bell and -quit within one minute after the next bell. He was not allowed to skip -a chapter in his commentary, or postpone a difficulty to the end of the -hour, and he was obliged to cover ground systematically, so much in -each specific term of the year. No one might spend the whole year on -introduction and bibliography! Coercion of this sort presupposes an -effective organization of the student body, and we hear of two and even -four universities of students, each composed of ‘nations’ and presided -over by a rector. Emphatically Bologna was a student university, and -Italian students are still quite apt to demand a voice in university -affairs. When I first visited the University of Palermo I found it -just recovering from a riot in which the students had broken the front -windows in a demand for more frequent, and thus less comprehensive, -examinations. At Padua’s seventh centenary last May the students -practically took over the town, with a programme of processions and -ceremonies quite their own and an amount of noise and tumult which -almost broke up the most solemn occasions and did break the windows of -the greatest hall in the city. - -Excluded from the ‘universities’ of students, the professors also -formed a gild or ‘college,’ requiring for admission thereto certain -qualifications which were ascertained by examination, so that no -student could enter save by the gild’s consent. And, inasmuch as -ability to teach a subject is a good test of knowing it, the student -came to seek the professor’s license as a certificate of attainment, -regardless of his future career. This certificate, the license to -teach (_licentia docendi_), thus became the earliest form of academic -degree. Our higher degrees still preserve this tradition in the words -master (_magister_) and doctor, originally synonymous, while the French -even have a _licence_. A Master of Arts was one qualified to teach the -liberal arts; a Doctor of Laws, a certified teacher of law. And the -ambitious student sought the degree and gave an inaugural lecture, -even when he expressly disclaimed all intention of continuing in the -teaching profession. Already we recognize at Bologna the standard -academic degrees as well as the university organization and well-known -officials like the rector. - -Other subjects of study appeared in course of time, arts, medicine, -and theology, but Bologna was preëminently a school of civil law, and -as such it became the model of university organization for Italy, -Spain, and southern France, countries where the study of law has always -had political and social as well as merely academic significance. Some -of these universities became Bologna’s competitors, like Montpellier -and Orleans as well as the Italian schools nearer home. Frederick II -founded the University of Naples in 1224 so that the students of his -Sicilian kingdom could go to a Ghibelline school at home instead of the -Guelfic centre in the North. Rival Padua was founded two years earlier -as a secession from Bologna, and only last year, on the occasion of -Padua’s seven-hundredth anniversary, I saw the ancient feud healed by -the kiss of peace bestowed on Bologna’s rector amid the encores of -ten thousand spectators. Padua, however, scarcely equalled Bologna in -our period, even though at a later age Portia sent thither for legal -authority, and though the university still shines with the glory of -Galileo. - - * * * * * - -In northern Europe the origin of universities must be sought at Paris, -in the cathedral school of Notre-Dame. By the beginning of the twelfth -century in France and the Low Countries learning was no longer confined -to monasteries but had its most active centres in the schools attached -to cathedrals, of which the most famous were those of Liège, Rheims, -Laon, Paris, Orleans, and Chartres. The most notable of these schools -of the liberal arts was probably Chartres, distinguished by a canonist -like St. Ives and by famous teachers of classics and philosophy -like Bernard and Thierry. As early as 991 a monk of Rheims, Richer, -describes the hardships of his journey to Chartres in order to study -the _Aphorisms_ of Hippocrates of Cos; while from the twelfth century -John of Salisbury, the leading northern humanist of the age, has left -us an account of the masters which we shall later have occasion to -cite. Nowhere else today can we drop back more easily into a cathedral -city of the twelfth century, the peaceful town still dominated by its -church and sharing, now as then, - - the minster’s vast repose. - Silent and gray as forest-leaguered cliff - Left inland by the ocean’s slow retreat, - ... patiently remote - From the great tides of life it breasted once, - Hearing the noise of men as in a dream. - -By the time the cathedral stood complete, with its “dedicated shapes of -saints and kings,” it had ceased to be an intellectual centre of the -first importance, over-shadowed by Paris fifty-odd miles away, so that -Chartres never became a university. - -The advantages of Paris were partly geographical, partly political -as the capital of the new French monarchy, but something must be set -down to the influence of a great teacher in the person of Abelard. -This brilliant young radical, with his persistent questioning and his -scant respect for titled authority, drew students in large numbers -wherever he taught, whether at Paris or in the wilderness. At Paris -he was connected with the church of Mont-Sainte-Geneviève longer than -with the cathedral school, but resort to Paris became a habit in his -time, and in this way he had a significant influence on the rise of -the university. In an institutional sense the university was a direct -outgrowth of the school of Notre-Dame, whose chancellor alone had -authority to license teaching in the diocese and thus kept his control -over the granting of university degrees, which here as at Bologna -were originally teachers’ certificates. The early schools were within -the cathedral precincts on the Ile de la Cité, that tangled quarter -about Notre-Dame pictured by Victor Hugo which has long since been -demolished. A little later we find masters and scholars living on the -Little Bridge (Petit-Pont) which connected the island with the Left -Bank of the Seine--this bridge gave its name to a whole school of -philosophers, the Parvipontani--but by the thirteenth century they have -over-run the Left Bank, thenceforth the Latin Quarter of Paris. - -At what date Paris ceased to be a cathedral school and became a -university, no one can say, though it was certainly before the end of -the twelfth century. Universities, however, like to have precise dates -to celebrate, and the University of Paris has chosen 1200, the year of -its first royal charter. In that year, after certain students had been -killed in a town and gown altercation, King Philip Augustus issued a -formal privilege which punished his prévôt and recognized the exemption -of the students and their servants from lay jurisdiction, thus creating -that special position of students before the courts which has not yet -wholly disappeared from the world’s practice, though generally from -its law. More specific was the first papal privilege, the bull _Parens -scientiarum_ of 1231, issued after a two years’ cessation of lectures -growing out of a riot in which a band of students, having found “wine -that was good and sweet to drink,” beat up the tavern keeper and his -friends till they in turn suffered from the prévôt and his men, a -dissension in which the thirteenth century clearly saw the hand of the -devil. Confirming the existing exemptions, the Pope goes on to regulate -the discretion of the chancellor in conferring the license, at the -same time that he recognizes the right of the masters and students -“to make constitutions and ordinances regulating the manner and time -of lectures and disputations, the costume to be worn,” attendance at -masters’ funerals, the lectures of bachelors, necessarily more limited -than those of fully fledged masters, the price of lodgings, and the -coercion of members. Students must not carry arms, and only those who -frequent the schools regularly are to enjoy the exemptions of students, -the interpretation in practice being attendance at not less than two -lectures a week. - -While the word university does not appear in these documents, it is -taken for granted. A university in the sense of an organized body -of masters existed already in the twelfth century; by 1231 it had -developed into a corporation, for Paris, in contrast to Bologna, was -a university of masters. There were now four faculties, each under a -dean: arts, canon law (civil law was forbidden at Paris after 1219), -medicine, and theology. The masters of arts, much more numerous than -the others, were grouped into four ‘nations:’ the French, including -the Latin peoples; the Norman; the Picard, including also the Low -Countries; and the English, comprising England, Germany, and the -North and East of Europe. These four nations chose the head of the -university, the rector, as he is still generally styled on the -Continent, whose term, however, was short, being later only three -months. If we may judge from such minutes as have survived, much of the -time of the nations was devoted to consuming the fees collected from -new members and new officers, or, as it was called, drinking up the -surplus--at the Two Swords near the Petit-Pont, at the sign of Our Lady -in the Rue S.-Jacques, at the Swan, the Falcon, the Arms of France, -and scores of similar places. A learned monograph on the taverns of -mediaeval Paris has been written from the records of the English -nation alone. The artificial constitution of the nations seems to have -encouraged rather than diminished the feuds and rivalries between the -various regions represented at Paris, of which Jacques de Vitry has -left a classic description:[1] - -“They wrangled and disputed not merely about the various sects or -about some discussions; but the differences between the countries also -caused dissensions, hatreds, and virulent animosities among them, and -they impudently uttered all kinds of affronts and insults against -one another. They affirmed that the English were drunkards and had -tails; the sons of France proud, effeminate, and carefully adorned -like women. They said that the Germans were furious and obscene at -their feasts; the Normans, vain and boastful; the Poitevins, traitors -and always adventurers. The Burgundians they considered vulgar and -stupid. The Bretons were reputed to be fickle and changeable, and were -often reproached for the death of Arthur. The Lombards were called -avaricious, vicious, and cowardly; the Romans, seditious, turbulent, -and slanderous; the Sicilians, tyrannical and cruel; the inhabitants -of Brabant, men of blood, incendiaries, brigands, and ravishers; -the Flemish, fickle, prodigal, gluttonous, yielding as butter, and -slothful. After such insults, from words they often came to blows.” - -Another university institution which goes back to twelfth-century -Paris is the college. Originally merely an endowed hospice or hall of -residence, the college early became an established unit of academic -life at many universities. “The object of the earliest college-founders -was simply to secure board and lodging for poor scholars who could -not pay for it themselves;” but in course of time the colleges became -normal centres of life and teaching, absorbing into themselves much -of the activity of the university. The colleges had buildings and -endowments, if the university had not. There was a college at Paris as -early as 1180; there were sixty-eight by 1500, and the system survived -until the Revolution, to leave behind it only fragments of buildings or -local names like the Sorbonne of today, sole memento of that Collège -de la Sorbonne founded for theologians by a confessor of St. Louis in -the thirteenth century. Many other continental universities had their -colleges, one of which, the ancient College of Spain at Bologna, still -survives for the delectation of the few Spanish youths who reach its -quiet courtyard. But of course the ultimate home of the college was -Oxford and Cambridge, where it came to be the most characteristic -feature of university life, arrogating to itself practically all -teaching as well as direction of social life, until the university -became merely an examining and degree-conferring body. Here the older -colleges like Balliol, Merton, and Peterhouse date from the thirteenth -century. - -Paris was preëminent in the Middle Ages as a school of theology, and, -as theology was the supreme subject of mediaeval study, “Madame la -haute science” it was called, this means that it was preëminent as a -university. “The Italians have the Papacy, the Germans have the Empire, -and the French have Learning,” ran the old saying; and the chosen abode -of learning was Paris. Quite naturally Paris became the source and the -model for northern universities. Oxford branched off from this parent -stem late in the twelfth century, likewise with no definite date of -foundation; Cambridge began somewhat later. The German universities, -none of them older than the fourteenth century, were confessed -imitations of Paris. Thus the Elector Palatine, Ruprecht, in founding -the University of Heidelberg in 1386--for these later universities were -founded at specific dates--provides that it “shall be ruled, disposed, -and regulated according to the modes and matters accustomed to be -observed in the University of Paris, and that as a handmaid of Paris--a -worthy one let us hope--it shall imitate the steps of Paris in every -way possible, so that there shall be four faculties,” four nations and -a rector, exemptions for students and their servants, and even caps and -gowns for the several faculties “as has been observed at Paris.”[2] - -By the end of the Middle Ages at least eighty universities had -been founded in different parts of Europe.[3] Some of these were -short-lived, many were of only local importance, others like Salerno -flourished only to die, but some like Paris and Montpellier, Bologna -and Padua, Oxford and Cambridge, Vienna and Prague and Leipzig, Coimbra -and Salamanca, Cracow and Louvain, have an unbroken history of many -centuries of distinction. And the great European universities of more -recent foundation, like Berlin, Strasbourg, Edinburgh, Manchester, and -London, follow in their organization the ancient models. In America -the earliest institutions of higher learning reproduced the type of -the contemporary English college at a time when the university in -England was eclipsed by its constituent colleges; but in the creation -of universities in the later nineteenth century, America turned to -the universities of the Continent and thus entered once more into the -ancient inheritance. Even in the colonial period a sense of the general -university tradition survived, for the charter of Rhode Island College -in 1764 grants “the same privileges, dignities, and immunities enjoyed -by the American colleges, and European universities.” - - * * * * * - -What then is our inheritance from the oldest of universities? In the -first place it is not buildings or a type of architecture, for the -early universities had no buildings of their own, but on occasion used -private halls and neighboring churches. After all, as late as 1775 the -First Baptist Church in Providence was built “for the publick worship -of Almighty God, and also for holding Commencement in”! Indeed one -who seeks to reconstruct the life of ancient universities will find -little aid in their existing remains. Salerno retains no monuments of -its university, though its rare old cathedral, where Hildebrand lies -buried, must have seen the passing of many generations of would-be -physicians. In the halls and coats of arms of “many-domed Padua proud” -we behold the Renaissance, not the Middle Ages. Even Bologna, _Bononia -docta_, with its leaning towers and cool arcades, has no remains of -university architecture earlier than the fourteenth century, from -which date the oldest monuments of its professors of law gathered now -into the municipal museum. Montpellier and Orleans preserve nothing -from this period. Paris, too often careless of its storied past, can -show today only the ancient church of Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, where -university meetings were often held, unless we count, as we should, the -great cathedral in the Cité whence the university originally sprang. -The oldest Cambridge college, Peterhouse, has only a fragment of its -earliest buildings; the finest Cambridge monument, King’s College -chapel, is of the late fifteenth century. More than all others Oxford -gives the deepest impression of continuity with an ancient past, -Matthew Arnold’s Oxford, “so venerable, so lovely ... steeped in -sentiment as she lies, spreading her gardens to the moon-light, and -whispering from her towers the last enchantments of the Middle Age;” -yet so far as the actual college buildings are concerned they have much -more of sentiment than of the Middle Ages. Only at Merton, which fixed -the college type at Oxford, do any of the present structures carry us -back of 1300, and nowhere is there much of the fourteenth century. -Those venerable glories of Oxford, the Bodleian library, the tower of -Magdalen, and the hall of Christ Church, belong to a much later age, -the period of the Tudors, and thus by ordinary reckoning to modern -times. When we say how very mediaeval, we often mean how very Tudor! - -Neither does the continuity lie in academic form and ceremony, in -spite of occasional survivals, like the conferring of degrees by the -ring or the kiss of peace, or the timing of examinations by the hour -glass as I have seen it at Portuguese Coimbra. Academic costume has in -it some element of tradition where it is a daily dress as at Oxford, -Cambridge, and Coimbra, but in America the tradition was broken by our -ancestors, and the formal cap and gown current in the United States -today are a product of modern Albany rather than of mediaeval Paris -and Bologna. Even in their ancient homes the costumes have changed. -“It is probable,” says Rashdall, “that no gown now worn in Oxford has -much resemblance to its mediaeval ancestor.” A student of mediaeval -Padua would not recognize the variegated procession which wound through -its streets last summer; Robert de Sorbon would rub his eyes at the -non-mediaeval styles of the gorgeous gowns which were massed on the -stage of the great hall of the Sorbonne when President Wilson received -his honorary degree in 1918. - -It is, then, in institutions that the university tradition is most -direct. First, the very name university, as an association of masters -and scholars leading the common life of learning. Characteristic -of the Middle Ages as such a corporation is, the individualistic -modern world has found nothing to take its place. Next, the notion -of a curriculum of study, definitely laid down as regards time and -subjects, tested by an examination and leading to a degree, as well -as many of the degrees themselves--bachelor, as a stage toward the -mastership, master, doctor, in arts, law, medicine, and theology. Then -the faculties, four or more, with their deans, and the higher officers -such as chancellors and rectors, not to mention the college, wherever -the residential college still survives. The essentials of university -organization are clear and unmistakable, and they have been handed -down in unbroken continuity. They have lasted more than seven hundred -years--what form of government has lasted so long? Very likely all this -is not final--nothing is in this world of flux--but it is singularly -tough and persistent, suited to use and also to abuse, like Bryce’s -university with a faculty “consisting of Mrs. Johnson and myself,” -or the “eleven leading universities” of a certain state of the Middle -West! Universities are at times criticised for their aloofness or -their devotion to vocationalism, for being too easy or too severe, and -drastic efforts have been made to reform them by abolishing entrance -requirements or eliminating all that does not lead directly to bread -and butter; but no substitute has been found for the university in its -main business, the training of scholars and the maintenance of the -tradition of learning and investigation. The glory of the mediaeval -university, says Rashdall, was “the consecration of Learning,” and -the glory and the vision have not yet perished from the earth. “The -mediaeval university,” it has been said, “was the school of the modern -spirit.” How the early universities performed this task will be the -theme of the next lecture. - - - - -II - -THE MEDIAEVAL PROFESSOR - - -In the last lecture we considered the mediaeval university as an -institution. We come now to examine it as an intellectual centre. This -involves some account of its course of study, its methods of teaching, -and the status and freedom of its teachers. The element of continuity, -so clear in institutions, is often less evident in the content of -learning, but even here the thread is unbroken, the contrast with -modern conditions less sharp than is often supposed. - -The basis of education in the early Middle Ages consisted, as we have -seen, of the so-called seven liberal arts. Three of these, grammar, -rhetoric, and logic, were grouped as the trivium; the remaining four, -arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music, made up the quadrivium. -The first group was the more rudimentary, but the second was -rudimentary enough. The number was fixed and the content standardized -during the decadence of ancient learning, and the whole conception -reached the Middle Ages chiefly in the book of a certain Martianus -Capella, written in the early fifth century. These later ages of -classical antiquity, in condensing and desiccating knowledge for their -own more limited intelligence, were also unconsciously preparing for -later times those small and convenient packages which alone could be -carried as a _viaticum_ through the stormy times of the Dark Ages. -It was almost wholly as formulated in a few standard texts that the -learning of the ancient world was transmitted to mediaeval times, and -the authority of these manuals was so great that a list of those in use -in any period affords an accurate index of the extent of its knowledge -and the nature of its instruction. It was a bookish age, with great -reverence for standard authorities, and its instruction followed -closely the written word. - -In the monastic and cathedral schools of the earlier period the -textbooks were few and simple, chiefly the Latin grammars of Donatus -and Priscian with some elementary reading-books, the logical manuals of -Boethius, as well as his arithmetic and music, a manual of rhetoric, -the most elementary propositions of geometry, and an outline of -practical astronomy such as that of the Venerable Bede. Of Greek, -of course, there was none. This slender curriculum in arts was much -enlarged by the renaissance of the twelfth century, which added to -the store of western knowledge the astronomy of Ptolemy, the complete -works of Euclid, and the Aristotelian logic, while at the same time -under the head of grammar great stimulus was given to the study and -reading of the Latin classics. This classical revival, which is -noteworthy and comparatively little known, centred in such cathedral -schools as Chartres and Orleans, where the spirit of a real humanism -showed itself in an enthusiastic study of ancient authors and in the -production of Latin verse of a really remarkable quality. Certain -writings of one of these poets, Bishop Hildebert of Le Mans, were even -mistaken for “real antiques” by later humanists. Nevertheless, though -brilliant, this classical movement was short-lived, crushed in its -early youth by the triumph of logic and the more practical studies -of law and rhetoric. In the later twelfth century John of Salisbury -inveighs against the logicians of his day, with their superficial -knowledge of literature; in the university curriculum of the thirteenth -century, literary studies have quite disappeared. Toward 1250, when a -French poet, Henri d’Andeli, wrote his _Battle of the Seven Arts_, the -classics are already the ancients, fighting a losing battle against the -moderns: - - Logic has the students, - Whereas Grammar is reduced in numbers. - - * * * * * - - Civil Law rode gorgeously - And Canon Law rode haughtily - Ahead of all the other arts. - -If the absence of the ancient classics and of vernacular literature is -a striking feature of the university curriculum in arts, an equally -striking fact is the amount of emphasis placed on logic or dialectic. -The earliest university statutes, those of Paris in 1215, require the -whole of Aristotle’s logical works, and throughout the Middle Ages -these remain the backbone of the arts course, so that Chaucer can speak -of the study of logic as synonymous with attendance at a university-- - - That un-to logik hadde longe y-go. - -In a sense this is perfectly just, for logic was not only a major -subject of study itself, it pervaded every other subject as a method -and gave tone and character to the mediaeval mind. Syllogism, -disputation, the orderly marshalling of arguments for and against -specific theses, these became the intellectual habit of the age in -law and medicine as well as in philosophy and theology. The logic, -of course, was Aristotle’s, and the other works of the philosopher -soon followed, so that in the Paris course of 1254 we find also the -_Ethics_, the _Metaphysics_, and the various treatises on natural -science which had at first been forbidden to students. To Dante -Aristotle had become “the Master of them that know,” by virtue of the -universality of his method no less than of his all-embracing learning. -“The father of book knowledge and the grandfather of the commentator,” -no other writer appealed so strongly as Aristotle to the mediaeval -reverence for the textbook and the mediaeval habit of formal thought. -Doctrines like the eternity of matter which seemed dangerous to faith -were explained away, and great and authoritative systems of theology -were built up by the methods of the pagan philosopher. And all idea of -literary form disappeared when everything depended on argument alone. - -If the study of the classics became confined to examples and -excerpts designed to illustrate the rules of grammar, rhetoric had -a somewhat different fate by reason of its practical applications. -The intellectual life of the Middle Ages was not characterized by -spontaneous or widely diffused power of literary expression. Few -were able to write, still fewer could compose a letter, and the -professional scribes and notaries on whom devolved the greater part of -the labor of mediaeval correspondence fastened upon the letter-writing -of the period the stereotyped formalism of a conventional rhetoric. -Regular instruction in the composition of letters and official acts -was given in the schools and chanceries, and numerous professors, -called _dictatores_, went about from place to place teaching this -valuable art--“often and exceeding necessary for the clergy, for -monks suitable, and for laymen honorable,” as one rhetorician tells -us. By the thirteenth century such masters had found a place in -certain universities, especially in Italy and Southern France, and -they advertised their wares in a way that has been compared to the -claims of a modern business course--short and practical, with no time -wasted on outgrown classical authors but everything fresh and snappy -and up-to-date, ready to be applied the same day if need be! Thus one -professor at Bologna derides the study of Cicero, whom he cannot recall -having read, and promises to train his students in writing every sort -of letter and official document which was demanded of the notaries and -secretaries of his day. Since, as we shall see in the next lecture, -such teachers specialized in the composition of student letters, -chiefly skilful appeals to the parental purse, their practical utility -was at once apparent. “Let us,” says one writer, “take as our theme -today that a poor and diligent student at Paris is to write his mother -for necessary expenses.” Would not every listener be sure that here at -least he had found “the real thing”? The professor of rhetoric might -also be called in to draft a university prospectus, like the circular -issued in 1229 by the masters of the new University of Toulouse setting -forth its superiority to Paris--theologians teaching in the pulpits -and preaching at the street corners, lawyers magnifying Justinian -and physicians Galen, professors of grammar and logic, and musicians -with their organs, lectures on the books of natural philosophy then -forbidden at Paris, low prices, a friendly populace, the way now -prepared by the extirpation of the thorns of heresy, a land flowing -with milk and honey, Bacchus reigning in the vineyards and Ceres in the -fields under the mild climate desired by the philosophers of old, with -plenary indulgence for all masters and students. Who could resist such -an appeal from the South? - -With grammar and rhetoric reduced to a subordinate position and the -studies of the quadrivium receiving but scant attention, the arts -course was mainly a course in logic and philosophy, plus so much of the -natural sciences as could be apprehended by the scholastic study of the -“natural books” of Aristotle. Laboratories there were none until long -after the Middle Ages were past, and of history and the social sciences -nothing was heard in universities until still later. Hard, close drill -on a few well-thumbed books was the rule. The course in arts led -normally to the master’s degree in six years, with the baccalaureate -somewhere on the way. Graduation in arts was the common preparation for -professional study, being regularly required for theology and usual -for intending lawyers and physicians. A sound tradition, to which the -American world has given too little attention! - -Contrary to a common impression, there were relatively few students -of theology in mediaeval universities, for a prescribed theological -training for the priesthood came in only with the Counter-Reformation. -The requirements for admission were high; the course in theology itself -was long; the books were costly. True, these books were commonly only -the Bible and the _Sentences_ of Peter Lombard, but the Bible in the -Middle Ages might run into several volumes, especially when accompanied -by gloss and commentary, and the copying of these by hand was a tedious -and costly business. An ambitious student at Orleans who asks for money -to buy a Bible and begin theology is advised by his father to turn -rather to some lucrative profession. At the best, complain the Paris -chancellors, students come late to theology, which should be the wife -of their youth. - -Medicine likewise was studied in books, chiefly Galen and Hippocrates -with their Arabic translators and commentators, among whom Avicenna -held the first place after the thirteenth century. Indeed Avicenna -was still more firmly intrenched in the East, for as late as 1887 a -majority of the native physicians in the Persian capital “knew no -medicine but that of Avicenna.”[4] Except for some advance in anatomy -and surgery at certain southern schools, like Bologna and Montpellier, -the mediaeval universities made no contributions to medical knowledge, -for no subject was less adapted to their prevailing method of verbal -and syllogistic dogmatism. - -In law the basis of all instruction was inevitably the _Corpus Juris -Civilis_ of Justinian, for the customary law of mediaeval Europe was -never a subject of university study. The central book was the _Digest_, -summarizing the ripest fruits of Roman legal science, and it was -their mastery of the _Digest_ that gives preëminence to the mediaeval -civilians. They brought the resources of the whole _Corpus_ to bear -on each passage in an elaborate gloss, and they showed refinement -and subtlety of legal thought analogous to that of the scholastic -philosophers. After all, “law is a form of scholasticism.” But whereas -the scholastic method in philosophy has lost hold on much of the modern -world, the work of the glossators still survives. “In many respects,” -says Rashdall,[5] “the work of the School of Bologna represents the -most brilliant achievement of the intellect of mediaeval Europe. The -mediaeval mind had, indeed, a certain natural affinity for the study -and development of an already existing body of Law. The limitations -of its knowledge of the past and of the material Universe were not, -to any appreciable extent, a bar to the mastery of a Science which -concerns itself simply with the business and the relations of every-day -life. The Jurist received his Justinian on authority as the Theologian -received the Canonical and Patristic writings, or the Philosopher his -Aristotle, while he had the advantage of receiving it in the original -language. It had only to be understood, to be interpreted, developed, -and applied.... The works of these men are, perhaps, the only -productions of mediaeval learning to which the modern Professor of any -science whatever may turn, not merely for the sake of their historical -interest, not merely in the hope of finding ideas of a suggestive -value, but with some possibility of finding a solution of the doubts, -difficulties and problems which still beset the modern student.” - -The canon law was closely associated with the civil, indeed for -many purposes it was desirable to graduate in both these subjects -as a _Doctor utriusque juris_, or as we say a J.U.D. or an LL. D. -Canon law was condemned by the theologians as a “lucrative” subject, -which drew students away from pure learning toward the path of -ecclesiastical preferment. By the thirteenth century the mediaeval -church was a vast administrative machine which needed lawyers to run -it, and a well-trained canonist had a good chance of rising to the -highest dignities.[6] No wonder canon law attracted the ambitious, -the wealthy, even the idle, for at Paris we are told that the lazy -students frequented the lectures of the canonists in the middle of the -morning, rather than the other courses which began at six. The standard -textbook in canon law was the _Decretum_ of Gratian, supplemented by -the decretals of subsequent popes, especially the great collection -which Gregory IX in 1234 distributed to the principal universities. -The methods of studying these texts were the same as in the civil law, -giving rise to the rich canonistic literature of the later Middle Ages -and the marginal glosses for which, according to Dante, “the Gospel and -the great doctors are deserted.” - -Of the textbooks needed in all these subjects the university undertook -to secure a supply at once sufficient, correct, and cheap, for the -regulation of the book trade was one of the earliest and most valued -of university privileges. As books were costly they were commonly -rented, at a fixed price per quire, rather than owned; indeed the -sale of books was hedged in by close restrictions designed to curb -monopoly prices and to prevent their removal from town. The earliest -Paris tariff, ca. 1286, lists for rent copies of one hundred and -thirty-eight different books. In course of time many students came to -have books of their own--a Bible, or at least some part of it, a piece -of the _Digest_, perhaps even the “twenty bokes clad in blak or reed” -of Chaucer’s Oxford clerk. Whether rented or owned, the supply was not -inconsiderable; on the Bolognese monuments each student has a book -before him. So long as each copy had to be made by hand, accuracy was a -matter of much importance, and the university had its supervisors and -correctors who inspected periodically all the books for sale in the -town. Moreover, at Bologna a constant supply of new books was secured -by the requirement that every professor should turn over a copy of -his repetitions and disputations to the stationers for publication. -The principal books of law and theology were the natural outgrowth of -university lectures. With demand and supply so largely concentrated in -the universities, it is not surprising that these should have become -the chief centres of the book trade and, as we should say, of the -publishing business. So long as students could rent the books they -required, there was less need for libraries than we might at first -suppose, and it was quite natural that for long the university as -such should have no library. In course of time, however, books were -given for the use of students, chiefly in the form of bequests to -the colleges, where they could be borrowed or consulted on the spot. -By 1338 the oldest extant catalogue of the Sorbonne, the chief Paris -library, lists 1722 volumes, many of them still to be seen in the -Bibliothèque Nationale, while many an Oxford college still preserves -codices which belonged to its library in the Middle Ages. - -Turning from books to professors, we should note at the outset that -the Middle Ages produced many excellent and renowned teachers. The -mechanism of learning was still comparatively simple, its content not -yet overwhelming, and, in spite of the close adherence to texts, there -was a large scope for the personality of the instructor. Thus, long -before the days of universities, Alcuin was the moving spirit in the -revival of education at the court of Charlemagne and the monastery -school of Tours, and two centuries later Gerbert of Rheims roused the -wonder of contemporaries by his skilful use of the classics in the -study of rhetoric and by devices for the teaching of astronomy so -ingenious that they seemed in some way “divine.”[7] From the period -of university origins we get a fairly clear impression of Abelard -as a teacher and ‘class-room entertainer,’ bold, original, lucid, -sharply polemical, always fresh and stimulating, and withal “able to -move to laughter the minds of serious men.” His procedure as exhibited -in his _Sic et non_ was to marshal authorities and arguments for and -against specific propositions, a method which was soon imitated in -Gratian’s _Concord of Discordant Canons_, and, reënforced by the _New -Logic_ of Aristotle, was to culminate in the scholastic method of St. -Thomas Aquinas and stamp itself upon the thought of many generations. -Sharpening to the wits as this method was in the hands of Abelard and -his successors, the very antagonism of yes or no as he formulated it -left no room for intermediate positions, for those _nuances_ of thought -in which, as Renan pointed out, truth is usually to be found. - -For a contemporary impression of the teachers of the twelfth century, -nothing is so good as the oft-quoted passages in which John of -Salisbury describes his _Wanderjahre_ in France from 1136 to 1147, -chiefly at Paris and Chartres.[8] Learning the rudiments of dialectic -from Abelard, he continued under two other teachers of this art, one -over-scrupulous in detail, perspicuous, brief, and to the point, the -other subtle and profuse, showing that simple answers could not be -given. “Afterward one of them went to Bologna and unlearned what he had -taught, so that on his return he also untaught it.” John then passed -on to Chartres to study grammar under William of Conches and Bernard. -The humane yet thorough teaching of literature here excited his warm -admiration--close study, memorizing choice extracts, grammar taught -by composition, imitation of excellent models but merciless exposure -of borrowed finery, qualities which made Bernard “the most copious -source of letters in Gaul in modern times.” Returning to Paris after -twelve years’ absence, John found his old companions “as before, and -where they were before; nor did they appear to have reached the goal -in unravelling the old questions, nor had they added one jot of a -proposition. The aims that once inspired them, inspired them still: -they had progressed in one point only: they had unlearned moderation, -they knew not modesty; in such wise that one might despair of their -recovery. And thus experience taught me a manifest conclusion, that, -whereas dialectic furthers other studies, so if it remain by itself it -lies bloodless and barren, nor does it quicken the soul to yield fruit -of philosophy, except the same conceive from elsewhere.” - -The teachers of the thirteenth century who talk most about themselves -are the professors of grammar and rhetoric like Buoncompagno at -Bologna, John of Garlande at Paris, Ponce of Provence at Orleans, and -Lorenzo of Aquileia at Naples and almost everywhere, but we shall -make sufficient acquaintance with their inflated writings in other -connections. More significant is the account which Odofredus gives of -his lectures on the _Old Digest_ at Bologna: - -“Concerning the method of teaching the following order was kept by -ancient and modern doctors and especially by my own master, which -method I shall observe: First, I shall give you summaries of each title -before I proceed to the text; second, I shall give you as clear and -explicit a statement as I can of the purport of each law [included in -the title]; third, I shall read the text with a view to correcting it; -fourth, I shall briefly repeat the contents of the law; fifth, I shall -solve apparent contradictions, adding any general principles of law -[to be extracted from the passage], commonly called ‘Brocardica,’ and -any distinctions or subtle and useful problems (_quaestiones_) arising -out of the law with their solutions, as far as the Divine Providence -shall enable me. And if any law shall seem deserving, by reason of -its celebrity or difficulty, of a repetition, I shall reserve it for -an evening repetition, for I shall dispute at least twice a year, once -before Christmas and once before Easter, if you like. - -“I shall always begin the _Old Digest_ on or about the octave of -Michaelmas [6 October] and finish it entirely, by God’s help, with -everything ordinary and extraordinary, about the middle of August. The -_Code_ I shall always begin about a fortnight after Michaelmas and by -God’s help complete it, with everything ordinary and extraordinary, -about the first of August. Formerly the doctors did not lecture on the -extraordinary portions; but with me all students can have profit, even -the ignorant and the new-comers, for they will hear the whole book, nor -will anything be omitted as was once the common practice here. For the -ignorant can profit by the statement of the case and the exposition of -the text, the more advanced can become more adept in the subtleties -of questions and opposing opinions. And I shall read all the glosses, -which was not the practice before my time.” Then comes certain general -advice as to the choice of teachers and the methods of study, followed -by some general account of the _Digest_. - -This course closed as follows: “Now gentlemen, we have begun and -finished and gone through this book as you know who have been in the -class, for which we thank God and His Virgin Mother and all His saints. -It is an ancient custom in this city that when a book is finished -mass should be sung to the Holy Ghost, and it is a good custom and -hence should be observed. But since it is the practice that doctors on -finishing a book should say something of their plans, I will tell you -something but not much. Next year I expect to give ordinary lectures -well and lawfully as I always have, but no extraordinary lectures, -for students are not good payers, wishing to learn but not to pay, as -the saying is: All desire to know but none to pay the price. I have -nothing more to say to you beyond dismissing you with God’s blessing -and begging you to attend the mass.”[9] - -Important as was the formal lecture in those days of few books and no -laboratories, it was by no means the sole vehicle of instruction. A -comprehensive survey of university teaching would need also to take -account of the less formal ‘cursory’ or ‘extraordinary’ lectures, -many of them given by mere bachelors; the reviews and ‘repetitions,’ -which were often given in hospices or colleges in the evenings; and -the disputations which prepared for the final ordeal of maintaining -publicly the graduation thesis. - -The class-rooms in which these lectures were given have long since -disappeared. If the master’s house had no suitable room, he literally -hired a hall in some convenient neighborhood. At Paris such halls -were mostly in a single street on the Left Bank, the Vicus Stramineus -or Rue du Fouarre celebrated by Dante, apparently so-called from the -straw-covered floor on which the students sat as they took notes. At -Bologna the class-rooms were rather more ambitious. Here Buoncompagno, -writing in 1235, has described an ideal lecture hall, quiet and clean, -with a fair prospect from its windows, its walls painted green but -with no pictures or statues to distract attention, the lecturer’s -seat elevated so that he may see and be seen by all, the seats of the -students permanently assigned by nations and according to individual -rank and fame; but he adds significantly, “I never had such a house -myself and do not believe any of this sort was ever built.” Our -knowledge of the realities of the Bolognese class-room is derived -chiefly from the monuments and miniatures of the professors of the -fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, in which the master is regularly -seated at a desk under a canopy on a raised platform, while the -students have flat or inclined desks on which their books lie open. The -professors, in medicine as in law, regularly have an open volume before -them. - -The nature of the final examination is best illustrated at Paris, -where it is described in the _De conscientia_ of that genial moralist, -Robert de Sorbon, founder of the Sorbonne, by means of a suggestive -parallel with the Last Judgment. Taking as his text Job’s desire that -his “adversary had written a book,” and outlining his headings in the -approved fashion of his time, Robert begins with the statement that -if any one decides to seek the _licentia legendi_ at Paris and cannot -be excused from examination--as many of the great, by special favor, -are--he would much like to be told by the chancellor, or by some one -in his confidence, on what book he would be examined. Just as he would -be a crazy student indeed, who, having found out which book this was, -should neglect it and spend his time on others, even so is he mad who -fails to study the book of his own conscience, in which we shall all, -without exception, be examined at the great day. Moreover, if any one -is rejected by the chancellor, he may be reëxamined after a year, or -it may be that, through the intercession of friends or by suitable -gifts or services to the chancellor’s relatives or other examiners, -the chancellor can be induced to change his decision; whereas at the -Last Judgment the sentence will be final and there will be no help -from wealth or influence or stout assertion of ability as canonist or -civilian or of familiarity with all arguments and all fallacies. Then, -if one fails before the chancellor of Paris, the fact is known to but -five or six and the mortification passes away in time, while the Great -Chancellor, God, will refute the sinner ‘in full university’ before -the whole world. The chancellor, too, does not flog the candidate, -but in the Last Judgment the guilty will be beaten with a rod of iron -from the valley of Jehosaphat through the length of hell, nor can we -reckon, like idle boys in the grammar-schools, on escaping Saturday’s -punishment by feigning illness, playing truant, or being stronger -than the master, or like them solace ourselves with the thought -that after all our fun is well worth a whipping. The chancellor’s -examination, too, is voluntary; he does not force any one to seek the -degree, but waits as long as the scholars wish, and is even burdened -with their insistent demands for examinations. In studying the book -of our conscience we should imitate the candidates for the license, -who eat and drink sparingly, conning steadily the one book they are -preparing, searching out all the authorities that pertain to this, -and hearing only the professors that lecture on this subject, so that -they have difficulty in concealing from their fellows the fact that -they are preparing for examination. Such preparation is not the work -of five or ten days--though there are many who will not meditate a day -or an hour on their sins--but of many years. At the examination the -chancellor asks, “Brother, what do you say to this question, what do -you say to this one and this one?” The chancellor is not satisfied with -a verbal knowledge of books without an understanding of their sense, -but unlike the Great Judge, who will hear the book of our conscience -from beginning to end and suffer no mistakes, he requires only seven -or eight passages in a book and passes the candidate if he answers -three questions out of four. Still another difference lies in the -fact that the chancellor does not always conduct the examination in -person, so that the student who would be terrified in the presence of -so much learning often answers well before the masters who act in the -chancellor’s place. Nothing is here said of the public maintenance of -a thesis against all comers, an important final exercise which still -survives as a form in German universities. - -At Bologna there was first a “rigorous and tremendous examination” -before doctors, each sworn to treat the candidate “as he would his own -son.” Then followed a public examination and inception which a letter -home described as follows: “‘Sing unto the Lord a new song, praise him -with stringed instruments and organs, rejoice upon the high-sounding -cymbals,’ for your son has held a glorious disputation, which was -attended by a great multitude of teachers and scholars. He answered -all questions without a mistake, and no one could prevail against his -arguments. Moreover he celebrated a famous banquet, at which both rich -and poor were honored as never before, and he has duly begun to give -lectures which are already so popular that others’ class-rooms are -deserted and his own are filled.” The same rhetorician also tells of an -unsuccessful candidate who could do nothing in the disputation but sat -in his chair like a goat while the spectators in derision called him -rabbi; his guests at the banquet had such eating that they had no will -to drink, and he must needs hire students to attend his classes. - -The social position of mediaeval professors must be seen against the -background of the social system of a different age from ours. We come -perhaps nearest to modern conditions in the cities of Italy, where -there is evidence in the Middle Ages as now of the distinguished -position of many professors of medicine and civil law. Many theologians -and teachers of canon law reached high places in the church such as -bishoprics and cardinalates. Among the theologians and philosophers -those of highest distinction were regularly university professors: -Thomas Aquinas, Albertus Magnus, Bonaventura, all the great array -of doctors angelic, invincible, irrefragable, seraphic, subtle, and -universal. That these were also Dominicans or Franciscans withdrew them -only partially from the world. - -If, as some reformers maintain, the social position and self-respect -of professors involve their management of university affairs, the -Middle Ages were the great age of professorial control. The university -itself was a society of masters when it was not a society of students. -As there were no endowments of importance there were no boards of -trustees, nor was there any such system of state control as exists on -the Continent or in many parts of the United States. Administration in -the modern sense was strikingly absent, but much time was consumed in -various sorts of university meetings. In a quite remarkable degree the -university was self-governing as well as self-respecting, escaping some -of the abuses of a system which occasionally allows trustees or regents -to speak of professors as their “hired men.” Whether the individual -professor was freer under such a system is another question, for the -corporation of masters was apt to exercise a pretty close control over -action if not over opinion, and the tyranny of colleagues is a form of -that “tyranny of one’s next-door neighbor” from which the world seems -unable to escape. - -There remains the question of the professor’s intellectual liberty, -the right to teach truth as he sees it, which we have come to call -academic freedom. It is plain that much depends here, as with Pilate, -on our conception of truth. If it is something to be discovered by -search, the search must be free and untrammelled. If, however, truth -is something which has already been revealed to us by authority, then -it has only to be expounded, and the expositor must be faithful to the -authoritative doctrine. Needless to say, the latter was the mediaeval -conception of truth and its teaching. “Faith,” it was held, “precedes -science, fixes its boundaries, and prescribes its conditions.”[10] “I -believe in order that I may know, I do not know in order to believe,” -said Anselm. If reason has its bounds thus set, it befits reason to be -humble. Let not the masters and students of Paris, says Gregory IX, -“show themselves philosophers, but let them strive to become God’s -learned.” The dangers of intellectual pride and reliance upon reason -alone are illustrated by many characteristic stories of masters struck -dumb in the midst of their boasting, like Étienne de Tournay, who, -having proved the doctrine of the Trinity “so lucidly, so elegantly, so -catholically,” asserted that he could just as easily demolish his own -proof. Mediaeval orthodoxy looked askance at mere cleverness, partly -because much of the discussion of the schools led nowhere, partly -because a mind that played too freely about a proposition might easily -fall into heresy. And for the detection and punishment of heresy the -mediaeval church organized a special system of courts known as the -Inquisition. - -Such being the general conditions, what was the actual situation? In -practice freedom was general, save in philosophy and theology. In -law, in medicine, in grammar and mathematics, men were normally free -to lecture and dispute as they would. As there was no social problem -in the modern sense and no teaching of the social sciences as such, -a fruitful source of difficulty was absent. So far as I know, no -mediaeval professor was condemned for preaching free trade or free -silver or socialism or non-resistance. Moreover, while individual -treatises might be publicly burnt, as in the later Roman Empire, there -was no organized censorship of books before the sixteenth century. - -Now as to philosophy and theology. The trouble lies of course with -theology, for philosophy was free save when it touched theological -questions. But then, philosophy is very apt to touch theological -questions, and all through the twelfth and thirteenth centuries -there was an intermittent fight between Christian theology and pagan -philosophy as represented by the works of Aristotle. It began with -Abelard when he tried to apply his logical method of inquiry to -theology, and it went on when his contemporary, Gilbert de la Porrée, -directed still more of the Aristotelian logic toward theological -speculation. By the end of the twelfth century, the _New Logic_ was -pretty well assimilated, but then came Aristotle’s _Metaphysics_ and -natural philosophy, with their Arabic commentators, the study of which -at Paris was formally forbidden in 1210 and 1215. In 1231 the Pope -requires them to be “examined and purged of all suspicion of error,” -but by 1254 they are a fixed part of the curriculum in arts, not -expurgated but reconciled by interpretation to the Christian faith. A -generation later there is a recrudescence of Averroism, emphasizing the -doctrine of the eternity of matter and the determination of earthly -acts by the heavenly bodies; and two hundred and nineteen errors of -this party were condemned in 1277 by the bishop of Paris, who took -occasion to lament incursions into theology on the part of students -of arts. Throughout this period the whole of Aristotle was taught and -studied at Paris, and his method was used by Thomas Aquinas to rear his -vast structure of scholastic theology. Others reserved for themselves -a wide range of philosophic speculation, and in case of trouble they -could save themselves by falling back on the doctrine that what was -true in philosophy might be false in theology, and _vice versa_. - -With an eye to this question of freedom of teaching, I have gone -through all the documents of the thirteenth century in the Paris -_Chartularium_. Outside of the great controversies just mentioned the -result is meagre. In 1241 a series of ten errors was examined and -condemned by the chancellor and the professors of theology, a very -abstract series of propositions dealing with the visibility of the -divine essence, angels, and the exact abiding-place of glorified souls -in the next world, whether in the empyrean or the crystalline heaven. -In 1247 it appears that a certain Master Raymond had been imprisoned -for his errors by the advice of the masters of theology, and one -John de Brescain had been deprived of his right to teach because of -certain errors in logic “which seemed to come near Arian heresy,” thus -confusing the subjects of the two faculties, whose bounds had been -set by the fathers. In and about 1255 Paris was in a ferment over the -so-called ‘Eternal Gospel,’ an apocalyptic treatise which foretold a -new era of the Spirit, beginning in 1260, in which the New Testament, -the Pope, and the hierarchy should be superseded. Accepted by certain -advanced Franciscans, these doctrines became the occasion of a long -conflict with the Mendicant orders, but with no very decisive results. -In 1277 Paris received notice of thirty errors in arts condemned at -Oxford, not as heretical but as sufficient to cause the deposition of -the master teaching them; but when we find among them the abolition -of the cases of Latin nouns and the personal endings of verbs (_ego -currit_, _tu currit_, etc.), we are likely to sympathize more with -their unfortunate students than with the deposed masters. One is -reminded of the modern definition of academic freedom as “the right to -say what one thinks without thinking what one says!” - -With these as the only notable examples of interference with free -teaching at the storm centre of theological speculation in the most -active period of its history, we must infer that there was a large -amount of actual freedom. Trouble arose almost entirely out of what was -deemed theological heresy, or undue meddling with theological subjects -by those who lacked theological training. Those who stuck to their -job seem generally to have been let alone. As the great jurist Cujas -replied in the sixteenth century when asked whether he was Protestant -or Catholic, _Nihil hoc ad edictum praetoris_. Even within the more -carefully guarded field of theology and philosophy, it is doubtful -whether many found themselves cramped. Accepting the principle of -authority as their starting-point, men did not feel its limitations as -we should feel them now. A fence is no obstacle to those who do not -desire to go outside, and many barriers that would seem intolerable to -a more sceptical age were not felt as barriers by the schoolmen. He is -free who feels himself free. - -Furthermore, for those accustomed to the wide diversities of the -modern world, it is easy to form a false impression of the uniformity -and sameness of mediaeval thought. Scholasticism was not one thing -but many, as its historians constantly remind us, and the contests -between different schools and shades of opinion were as keen as -among the Greeks or in our own day. And if the differences often -seem minute or unreal to our distant eye, we can make them modern -enough by turning, for example, to the old question of the nature of -universal conceptions, which divided the Nominalists and Realists -of the Middle Ages. Are universals mere names, or have they a real -existence, independent of their individual embodiments? A bit arid -it all sounds if we make it merely a matter of logic, but exciting -enough as soon as it becomes a question of life. The essence of the -Reformation lies implicit in whether we take a nominalist or a realist -view of the church; the central problem of politics depends largely -upon a nominalist or a realist view of the state. Upon the two sides -of this last question millions of men have “all uncouthly died,” all -unconsciously too, no doubt, in the majority of cases, unaware of the -ultimate issues of political authority for which they fought, but yet -able to comprehend them when expressed in the concrete form of putting -the interest of the state above the interest of its members. - -In his own time and his own way the mediaeval professor often dealt -with permanent human interests as he sharpened men’s wits and kept -alive the continuous tradition of learning. - - - - -III - -THE MEDIAEVAL STUDENT - - -“A University,” it has more than once been remarked by professors, -“would be a very comfortable place were it not for the students.” So -far we have been considering universities from the point of view of -professors; it is now the turn of the students, for whether these be -regarded as a necessary evil or as the main reason for the university’s -existence, they certainly cannot be ignored. A mediaeval university -was no regiment of colonels but “a society of masters _and scholars_,” -and to this second and more numerous element we must now direct our -attention. - -The mediaeval student is a more elusive figure than his teachers, for -he is individually less conspicuous and must generally be seen in -the mass. Moreover the mass is much diversified in time and space, -so that generalization is difficult, what is true of one age and one -university being quite untrue of other times and places. Even within -the briefer span of American universities there are wide differences -among the students of, let us say, Harvard in the seventeenth -century, William and Mary in the eighteenth century, California in -the nineteenth century, and Columbia in the twentieth century; and -it would be impossible to make a true picture out of elements drawn -indiscriminately from such disparate sources. Until the conditions -at each university of the Middle Ages shall have been studied -chronologically, no sound account of student life in general can be -written, and this preliminary labor has nowhere been systematically -attempted. At present we can do no more than indicate the principal -sources of our information and the kind of light they throw upon -student life. - -Fortunately, out of the scattered remains of mediaeval times, there -has come down to us a considerable body of material which deals, more -or less directly, with student affairs. There are, for one thing, the -records of the courts of law, which, amid the monotonous detail of -petty disorders and oft-repeated offences, preserve now and then a -vivid bit of mediaeval life--like the case of the Bolognese student who -was attacked with a cutlass in a class-room, to the great damage and -loss of those assembled to hear the lecture of a noble and egregious -doctor of laws; or the student in 1289 who was set upon in the street -in front of a lecture-room by a certain scribe, “who wounded him on -the head with a stone, so that much blood gushed forth,” while two -companions gave aid and counsel, saying, “Give it to him, hit him,” -and when the offence had been committed ran away. So the coroners’ -rolls of Oxford record many a fatal issue of town and gown riots, while -a recently published register of 1265 and 1266 shows the students -of Bologna actively engaged in raising money by loans and by the -sale of textbooks. There are of course the university and college -statutes, with their prohibitions and fines, regulating the subjects -of conversation, the shape and color of caps and gowns, that academic -dress which looks to us so mediaeval and is, especially in its American -form, so very modern; careful also of the weightier matters of the law, -like the enactment of New College against throwing stones in chapel, or -the graded penalties at Leipzig for him who picks up a missile to throw -at a professor, him who throws and misses, and him who accomplishes -his fell purpose to the master’s hurt. The chroniclers, too, sometimes -interrupt their narrative of the affairs of kings and princes to tell -of students and their doings, although their attention, like that -of their modern successors, the newspapers, is apt to be caught by -outbreaks of student lawlessness rather than by the wholesome routine -of academic life. - -Then we have the preachers of the time, many of them also professors, -whose sermons contain frequent allusions to student customs; indeed -if further evidence were needed to dispel the illusion that the -mediaeval university was devoted to biblical study and religious -nurture, the Paris preachers of the period would offer sufficient -proof. “The student’s heart is in the mire,” says one of them, “fixed -on prebends and things temporal and how to satisfy his desires.” “They -are so litigious and quarrelsome that there is no peace with them; -wherever they go, be it Paris or Orleans, they disturb the country, -their associates, even the whole university.” Many of them go about -the streets armed, attacking the citizens, breaking into houses, and -abusing women. They quarrel among themselves over dogs, women, or -what-not, slashing off one another’s fingers with their swords, or, -with only knives in their hands and nothing to protect their tonsured -pates, rush into conflicts from which armed knights would hold back. -Their compatriots come to their aid, and soon whole nations of -students may be involved in the fray. These Paris preachers take us -into the very atmosphere of the Latin quarter and show us much of its -varied activity. We hear the cries and songs of the streets-- - - Li tens s’en veit, - Et je n’ei riens fait; - Li tens revient, - Et je ne fais riens-- - -the students’ tambourines and guitars, their “light and scurrilous -words,” their hisses and handclappings and loud shouts of applause at -sermons and disputations. We watch them as they mock a neighbor for her -false hair or stick out their tongues and make faces at the passers-by. -We see the student studying by his window, talking over his future with -his room-mate, receiving visits from his parents, nursed by friends -when he is ill, singing psalms at a student’s funeral, or visiting a -fellow-student and asking him to visit him--“I have been to see you, -now come to our hospice.” - -All types are represented. There is the poor student, with no friend -but St. Nicholas, seeking such charity as he can find or earning a -pittance by carrying holy water or copying for others, in a fair but -none too accurate hand, sometimes too poor to buy books or afford -the expense of a course in theology, yet usually surpassing his more -prosperous fellows who have an abundance of books at which they never -look. There is the well-to-do student, who besides his books and desk -will be sure to have a candle in his room and a comfortable bed with a -soft mattress and luxurious coverings, and will be tempted to indulge -the mediaeval fondness for fine raiment beyond the gown and hood and -simple wardrobe prescribed by the statutes. Then there are the idle -and aimless, drifting about from master to master and from school to -school, and never hearing full courses or regular lectures. Some, who -care only for the name of scholar and the income which they receive -while attending the university, go to class but once or twice a week, -choosing by preference the lectures on canon law, which leave them -plenty of time for sleep in the morning. Many eat cakes when they -ought to be at study, or go to sleep in the class-rooms, spending the -rest of their time drinking in taverns or building castles in Spain -(_castella in Hispania_); and when it is time to leave Paris, in order -to make some show of learning such students get together huge volumes -of calfskin, with wide margins and fine red bindings, and so with wise -sack and empty mind they go back to their parents. “What knowledge -is this,” asks the preacher, “which thieves may steal, mice or moths -eat up, fire or water destroy?” and he cites an instance where the -student’s horse fell into a river, carrying all his books with him. -Some never go home, but continue to enjoy in idleness the fruits of -their benefices. Even in vacation time, when the rich ride off with -their servants and the poor trudge home under the burning sun, many -idlers remain in Paris to their own and the city’s harm. Mediaeval -Paris, we should remember, was not only the incomparable “parent of -the sciences,” but also a place of good cheer and good fellowship and -varied delights, a favorite resort not only of the studious but of -country priests on a holiday; and it would not be strange if sometimes -scholars prolonged their stay unduly and lamented their departure in -phrases which are something more than rhetorical commonplace. - -Then the student is not unknown to the poets of the period, among whom -Rutebeuf gives a picture of thirteenth-century Paris not unlike that -of the sermonizers, while in the preceding century Jean de Hauteville -shows the misery of the poor and diligent scholar falling asleep over -his books, and Nigel “Wireker” satirizes the English students at Paris -in the person of an ass, Brunellus,--“Daun Burnell” in Chaucer--who -studies there seven years without learning a word, braying at the end -as at the beginning of his course, and leaving at last with the resolve -to become a monk or a bishop. Best of all is Chaucer’s incomparable -portrait of the clerk of Oxenford, hollow, threadbare, unworldly-- - - For him was lever have at his beddes heed - Twenty bokes, clad in blak or reed, - Of Aristotle and his philosophye, - Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrye. - - * * * * * - - Souninge in moral vertu was his speche, - And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche. - -But after all, no one knows so much about student life as the students -themselves, and it is particularly from what was written by and for -them, the student literature of the Middle Ages, that I wish to draw -more at length. Such remains of the academic past fall into three chief -classes: student manuals, student letters, and student poetry. Let us -consider them in this order. - -The manuals of general advice and counsel addressed to the mediaeval -scholar do not call for extended consideration. Formal treatises on the -whole duty of students are characteristic of the didactic habit of mind -of the Middle Ages, but the advice which they contain is apt to be of a -very general sort, applicable to one age as well as another and lacking -in those concrete illustrations which enliven the sermons of the period -into useful sources for university life. - -A more interesting type of student manual, the student dictionary, -owes its existence to the position of Latin as the universal language -of mediaeval education. Textbooks were in Latin, lectures were in -Latin, and, what is more, the use of Latin was compulsory in all forms -of student intercourse. This rule may have been designed as a check -on conversation, as well as an incentive to learning, but it was -enforced by penalties and informers (called wolves), and the freshman, -or yellow-beak, as he was termed in mediaeval parlance, might find -himself but ill equipped for making himself understood in his new -community. For his convenience a master in the University of Paris -in the thirteenth century, John of Garlande, prepared a descriptive -vocabulary, topically arranged and devoting a large amount of space -to the objects to be seen in the course of a walk through the streets -of Paris. The reader is conducted from quarter to quarter and from -trade to trade, from the book-stalls of the Parvis Notre-Dame and the -fowl-market of the adjoining Rue Neuve to the money-changers’ tables -and goldsmiths’ shops on the Grand-Pont and the bow-makers of the Porte -S.-Lazare, not omitting the classes of _ouvrières_ whose acquaintance -the student was most likely to make. Saddlers and glovers, furriers, -cobblers, and apothecaries, the clerk might have use for the wares of -all of them, as well as the desk and candle and writing-materials which -were the special tools of his calling; but his most frequent relations -were with the purveyors of food and drink, whose agents plied their -trade vigorously through the streets and lanes of the Latin quarter and -worked off their poorer goods on scholars and their servants. There -were the hawkers of wine, crying their samples of different qualities -from the taverns; the fruit-sellers, deceiving clerks with lettuce and -cress, cherries, pears, and green apples; and at night the vendors of -light pastry, with their carefully covered baskets of wafers, waffles, -and rissoles--a frequent stake at the games of dice among students, -who had a custom of hanging from their windows the baskets gained by -lucky throws of the six. The _pâtissiers_ had also more substantial -wares suited to the clerical taste, tarts filled with eggs and cheese -and well-peppered pies of pork, chicken, and eels. To the _rôtissiers_ -scholars’ servants resorted, not only for the pigeons, geese, and -other fowl roasted on their spits, but also for uncooked beef, pork, -and mutton, seasoned with garlic and other strong sauces. Such fare, -however, was not for the poorer students, whose slender purses limited -them to tripe and various kinds of sausage, over which a quarrel -might easily arise and “the butchers be themselves butchered by angry -scholars.” - -A dictionary of this sort easily passes into another type of treatise, -the manual of conversation. This method of studying foreign languages -is old, as survivals from ancient Egypt testify, and it still spreads -its snares for the unwary traveller who prepares to conquer Europe _à -la_ Ollendorff. To the writers of the later Middle Ages it seemed to -offer an exceptional opportunity for combining Instruction in Latin -with sound academic discipline, and from both school and university -it left its monuments for our perusal. The most interesting of these -handbooks is entitled a “Manual of Scholars who propose to attend -universities of students and to profit therein,” and while in its -most common form it is designed for the students of Heidelberg about -the year 1480, it could be adapted with slight changes to any of the -German universities. “Rollo at Heidelberg,” we might call it. Its -eighteen chapters conduct the student from his matriculation to his -degree, and inform him by the way on many subjects quite unnecessary -for either. When the young man arrives he registers from Ulm; his -parents are in moderate circumstances; he has come to study. He is -then duly hazed after the German fashion, which treats the candidate -as an unclean beast with horns and tusks which must be removed by -officious fellow-students, who also hear his confession of sin and -fix as the penance a good dinner for the crowd. He begins his studies -by attending three lectures a day, and learns to champion nominalism -against realism and the comedies of Terence against the law, and to -discuss the advantages of various universities and the price of food -and the quality of the beer in university towns. Then we find him and -his room-mate quarrelling over a mislaid book; rushing at the first -sound of the bell to dinner, where they debate the relative merits of -veal and beans; or walking in the fields beyond the Neckar, perhaps by -the famous Philosophers’ Road which has charmed so many generations -of Heidelberg youth, and exchanging Latin remarks on the birds and -fish as they go. Then there are shorter dialogues: the scholar breaks -the statutes; he borrows money, and gets it back; he falls in love -and recovers; he goes to hear a fat Italian monk preach or to see the -jugglers and the jousting in the market-place; he knows the dog-days -are coming--he can feel them in his head! Finally our student is told -by his parents that it is high time for him to take his degree and -come home. At this he is much disturbed; he has gone to few lectures, -and he will have to swear that he has attended regularly; he has not -worked much and has incurred the enmity of many professors; his master -discourages him from trying the examination; he fears the disgrace of -failure. But his interlocutor reassures him by a pertinent quotation -from Ovid and suggests that a judicious distribution of gifts may do -much--a few florins will win him the favor of all. Let him write home -for more money and give a great feast for his professors; if he treats -them well, he need not fear the outcome. This advice throws a curious -light upon the educational standards of the time; it appears to have -been followed, for the manual closes with a set of forms inviting the -masters to the banquet and the free bath by which it was preceded. - -If university students had need of such elementary compends of morals -and manners, there was obviously plenty of room for them in the lower -schools as well, where they were apt to take the form of Latin couplets -which could be readily impressed upon the pupil’s memory. Such _statuta -vel precepta scolarium_ seem to have been especially popular in -the later fifteenth century in those city schools of Germany whose -importance has been so clearly brought out by recent historians of -secondary education. Wandering often from town to town, like the roving -scholars of an earlier age, these German boys had good need to observe -the moral maxims thus purveyed. The beginning of wisdom was to remember -God and obey the master, but the student had also to watch his behavior -in church and lift up his voice in the choir--compulsory attendance -at church and singing in the choir being a regular feature of these -schools--keep his books clean, and pay his school bills promptly. Face -and hands should be washed in the morning, but the baths should not be -visited without permission, nor should boys run on the ice or throw -snowballs. Sunday was the day for play, but this could be only in the -churchyard, where boys must be careful not to play with dice or break -stones from the wall or throw anything over the church. And whether at -play or at home, Latin should always be spoken. - -More systematic is a manual of the fifteenth century preserved in a -manuscript of the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris.[11] “Since by reason -of imbecility youths cannot advance to a knowledge of the Latin tongue -by theory alone,” the author has for their assistance prepared a set -of forms which contain the expressions most frequently employed by -clerks. Beginning with the courtesies of school life, for obedience -and due reverence for the master are the beginning of wisdom, the -boy learns how to greet his master and to take leave, how to excuse -himself for wrong-doing, how to invite the master to dine or sup with -his parents--there are half a dozen forms for this! He is also taught -how to give proper answers to those who seek to test his knowledge, -“that he may not appear an idiot in the sight of his parents.” “If the -master asks, ‘Where have you been so long?’” he must be ready, not -only to plead the inevitable headache or failure to wake up, but also -to express the causes of delay well known to any village boy. He had -to look after the house or feed the cattle or water the horse; he was -detained by a wedding, by picking grapes, or making out bills, or--for -these were German boys--by helping with the brew, fetching beer, or -serving drink to guests. - -In school after the “spiritual refection” of the morning singing-lesson -comes refection of the body, which is placed after study hours because -“the imaginative virtue is generally impeded in those who are freshly -sated.” In their talk at luncheon or on the playground “clerks are -apt to fall from the Latin idiom into the mother tongue,” and for -him who speaks German the discretion of the master has invented a -dunce’s symbol called an ass, which the holder tries hard to pass on -to another. “Wer wel ein Griffel kouffe[n]?” “Ich wel ein Griffel -kouffen.” “Tecum sit asinus.” “Ach, quam falsus es tu!” Sometimes -the victim offers to meet his deceiver after vespers, with the usual -schoolboy brag on both sides. As it is forbidden to come to blows in -school, the boys are taught to work off their enmities and formulate -their complaints in Latin dialogue. “You were outside the town after -dark. You played with laymen Sunday. You went swimming Monday. You -stayed away from matins. You slept through mass.” “Reverend master, -he has soiled my book, he shouts after me wherever I go, he calls me -names.” Besides the formal disputations the scholars discuss such -current events as a street fight, a cousin’s wedding, the coming war -with the duke of Saxony, or the means of getting to Erfurt, whither -one of them is going when he is sixteen to study at the university. -The great ordeal of the day was the master’s quiz on Latin grammar, -when every one was questioned in turn (_auditio circuli_). The pupils -rehearse their declensions and conjugations and the idle begin to -tremble as the hour draws near. There is some hope that the master may -not come. “He has guests.” “But they will leave in time.” “He may go to -the baths.” “But it is not yet a whole week since he was there last.” -“There he comes. Name the wolf, and he forthwith appears.” Finally -the shaky scholar falls back on his only hope, a place near one who -promises to prompt him. - -“When the recitation is over and the lesson given out, rejoicing -begins among the youth at the approach of the hour for going home,” -and they indulge in much idle talk “which is here omitted, lest it -furnish the means of offending.” Joy is, however, tempered by the -contest which precedes dismissal, “a serious and furious disputation -for the _palmiterium_,” until one secures the prize and another has the -_asinus_ to keep till next day. - -After school the boys go to play in the churchyard, the sports -mentioned being hoops, marbles (apparently), ball (during Lent), and a -kind of counting game. The author distinguishes hoops for throwing and -for rolling, spheres of wood and of stone, but the subject soon becomes -too deep for his Latin, and in the midst of this topic the treatise -comes to an abrupt conclusion. - -In some of its forms the student manual touches on territory already -occupied by another type of mediaeval handbook, the manual of manners, -which under such titles as “The Book of Urbanity,” “The Courtesies of -the Table,” etc., enjoyed much popularity from the thirteenth century -onward. Such manuals have, however, none of the polish of Castiglione’s -_Courtier_ or the elaborateness of the modern book of etiquette. Those -who have not mastered the use of knife and fork have little use for the -finer points of social intercourse, and the readers of the mediaeval -manuals were still at their a b c’s in the matter of behavior. Wash -your hands in the morning and, if you have time, your face; use your -napkin and handkerchief; eat with three fingers, and don’t gorge; -don’t be boisterous or quarrelsome at table; don’t stare at your -neighbor or his plate; don’t criticise the food; don’t pick your teeth -with your knife--such, with others still more elementary, are the -maxims which meet us in this period, in Latin and French, in English, -German, and Italian, but regularly in verse. Now and then there is a -further touch of the age: scrape bones with your knife but don’t gnaw -them; when you have done with them, put them in a bowl or on the floor! - - * * * * * - -If the correspondence of mediaeval students were preserved for us in -casual and unaffected detail, nothing could give a more vivid picture -of university conditions. Unfortunately in some respects for us, -the Middle Ages were a period of forms and types in letter-writing -as in other things; and for most men the writing of a letter was -less an expression of individual feeling and experience than it was -the laborious copying of a letter of some one else, altered where -necessary to suit the new conditions. And if something fresh or -individual was produced, there was small chance of preserving it, since -it was on that account all the less likely to be useful to a future -letter-writer--“so careful of the type, so careless of the single” -letter, history seems. The result is that the hundreds of student -letters which have reached us in the manuscripts of the Middle Ages -have come down through the medium of collections of forms or complete -letter-writers, shorn of most of their individuality but for that very -reason reflecting the more faithfully the fundamental and universal -phases of university life. - -By far the largest element in the correspondence of mediaeval students -consists of requests for money; “a student’s first song is a demand for -money,” says a weary father in an Italian letter-writer, “and there -will never be a letter which does not ask for cash.” How to secure -this fundamental necessity of student life was doubtless one of the -most important problems that confronted the mediaeval scholar, and -many were the models which the rhetoricians placed before him in proof -of the practical advantages of their art. The letters are generally -addressed to parents, sometimes to brothers, uncles, or ecclesiastical -patrons; a much copied exercise contained twenty-two different methods -of approaching an archdeacon on this ever-delicate subject. Commonly -the student announces that he is at such and such a centre of learning, -well and happy but in desperate need of money for books and other -necessary expenses. Here is a specimen from Oxford, somewhat more -individual than the average and written in uncommonly bad Latin: - -“B. to his venerable master A., greeting. This is to inform you that -I am studying at Oxford with the greatest diligence, but the matter -of money stands greatly in the way of my promotion, as it is now -two months since I spent the last of what you sent me. The city -is expensive and makes many demands; I have to rent lodgings, buy -necessaries, and provide for many other things which I cannot now -specify. Wherefore I respectfully beg your paternity that by the -promptings of divine pity you may assist me, so that I may be able to -complete what I have well begun. For you must know that without Ceres -and Bacchus Apollo grows cold.” - -If the father was close-fisted, there were special reasons to be urged: -the town was dear--as university towns always are!--the price of living -was exceptionally high owing to a hard winter, a siege, a failure of -crops, or an unusual number of scholars; the last messenger had been -robbed or had absconded with the money; the son could borrow no more of -his fellows or of the Jews; and so on. The student’s woes are depicted -in moving language, with many appeals to paternal vanity and affection. -At Bologna we hear of the terrible mud through which the youth must -beg his way from door to door, crying, “O good masters,” and coming -home empty-handed. In an Austrian formulary a scholar writes from the -lowest depths of prison, where the bread is hard and moldy, the drink -water mixed with tears, the darkness so dense that it can actually be -felt. Another lies on straw with no covering, goes without shoes or -shirt, and eats he will not say what--a tale designed to be addressed -to a sister and to bring in response a hundred _sous tournois_, two -pairs of sheets, and ten ells of fine cloth, all sent without her -husband’s knowledge. “We have made little glosses, we owe money,” is -the terse summary of two students at Chartres. - -To such requests the proper answer was, of course, an affectionate -letter, commending the young man’s industry and studious habits and -remitting the desired amount. Sometimes the student is cautioned -to moderate his expenses--he might have got on longer with what he -had, he should remember the needs of his sisters, he ought to be -supporting his parents instead of trying to extort money from them, -etc. One father--who quotes Horace!--excuses himself because of the -failure of his vineyards. It often happened, too, that the father or -uncle has heard bad reports of the student, who must then be prepared -to deny indignantly all such aspersions as the unfounded fabrications -of his enemies. Here is an example of paternal reproof taken from an -interesting collection relating to Franche-Comté: - -“To his son G. residing at Orleans P. of Besançon sends greetings with -paternal zeal. It is written, ‘He also that is slothful in his work is -brother to him that is a great waster.’ I have recently discovered that -you live dissolutely and slothfully, preferring license to restraint -and play to work and strumming a guitar while the others are at their -studies, whence it happens that you have read but one volume of law -while your more industrious companions have read several. Wherefore I -have decided to exhort you herewith to repent utterly of your dissolute -and careless ways, that you may no longer be called a waster and your -shame may be turned to good repute.” - -In the models of Ponce de Provence we find a teacher writing to a -student’s father that while the young man is doing well in his studies, -he is just a trifle wild and would be helped by judicious admonition. -Naturally the master does not wish it known that the information came -through him, so the father writes his son: - -“I have learned--not from your master, although he ought not to hide -such things from me, but from a certain trustworthy source--that you do -not study in your room or act in the schools as a good student should, -but play and wander about, disobedient to your master and indulging in -sport and in certain other dishonorable practices which I do not now -care to explain by letter.” Then follow the customary exhortations to -reform. - -Two boys at Orleans thus describe their arrival at this centre of -learning: - -“To their dear and respected parents M. Martre, knight, and M. his -wife, M. and S. their sons send greeting and filial obedience. This is -to inform you that, by divine mercy, we are living in good health in -the city of Orleans and are devoting ourselves wholly to study, mindful -of the words of Cato, ‘To know anything is praiseworthy.’ We occupy a -good dwelling, next door but one to the schools and market-place, so -that we can go to school every day without wetting our feet. We have -also good companions in the house with us, well advanced in their -studies and of excellent habits--an advantage which we well appreciate, -for as the Psalmist says, ‘With an upright man thou wilt show thyself -upright.’” - -Such youths were slow to quit academic life. Again and again they ask -permission to have their term of study extended; war might break out, -parents or brothers die, an inheritance have to be divided, but the -student pleads always for delay. He desires to “serve longer in the -camp of Pallas;” in any event he cannot leave before Easter, as his -masters have just begun important courses of lectures. A scholar is -called home from Siena to marry a lady of many attractions; he answers -that he deems it foolish to desert the cause of learning for the sake -of a woman, “for one may always get a wife, but science once lost can -never be recovered.” - -The time to leave, however, must come at last, and then the great -problem is money for the expenses of commencement, or, as it was then -called, inception. Thus a student at Paris asks a friend to explain to -his father, “since the simplicity of the lay mind does not understand -such things,” how at length after much study nothing but lack of -money for the inception banquet stands in the way of his graduation. -From Orleans D. Boterel writes to his dear relatives at Tours that he -is laboring over his last volume of law and on its completion will -be able to pass to his licentiate provided they send him a hundred -_livres_ for the necessary expenses. An account of the inception at -Bologna was quoted in the preceding chapter.[12] - - * * * * * - -Unlike the student letters, which range over the whole of the later -Middle Ages, mediaeval student poetry, or rather the best of it, is -limited to a comparatively short period comprised roughly within the -years 1125 and 1225, and is closely connected with the classical -phase of the twelfth-century renaissance. It is largely the work of -the wandering clerks of the period--students, ex-students, professors -even--moving from town to town in search of learning and still more of -adventure, nominally clerks but leading often very unclerical lives. -“Far from their homes,” says Symonds, “without responsibilities, light -of purse and light of heart, careless and pleasure-seeking, they ran -a free, disreputable course.” “They are wont,” writes a monk of the -twelfth century, “to roam about the world and visit all its cities, -till much learning makes them mad; for in Paris they seek liberal arts, -in Orleans classics, at Salerno medicine, at Toledo magic, but nowhere -manners and morals.” Their chief habitat, however, was northern France, -the center of the new literary renaissance. - -Possibly from some obscure allusion to Goliath the Philistine, -these wandering clerks took the name Goliardi and their verse is -generally known as Goliardic poetry. This literature is for the most -part anonymous, though recent research has individualized certain -writers of the group, notably a Master Hugh, canon of Orleans, ca. -1142, styled the Primate, and the so-called Archpoet. The Primate, -mordant, diabolically clever, thoroughly disreputable, became famous -for generations as “an admirable improviser, who if he had but turned -his heart to the love of God would have had a great place in divine -letters and have proved most useful to God’s church.” The Archpoet is -found chiefly in Italy from 1161 to 1165, going “on his own” in spring -and summer but when autumn comes on turning to beg shirt and cloak -from his patron, the archbishop of Cologne. Ordered to compose an epic -for the emperor in a week, he replies he cannot write on an empty -stomach--the quality of his verse depends on the quality of his wine: - - Tales versus facio quale vinum bibo. - -Good wine he must at times have found, for he composed the masterpiece -of the whole school, the Confession of a Goliard, that unforgettable -description of the burning temptations of Pavia which contains the -famous glorification of the joys of the tavern: - - In the public house to die - Is my resolution; - Let wine to my lips be nigh - At life’s dissolution; - That will make the angels cry, - With glad elocution, - “Grant this toper, God on high, - Grace and absolution!” - -Though written in Latin, the Goliardic verse has abandoned the ancient -metrical system for the rhyme and accent of modern poetry, but even the -best of modern versions, such as those of John Addington Symonds, from -which I am quoting, fail to render the swing, the lilt, the rhythmical -flow of the original. Its authors are familiar with classical mythology -and especially with the writings of Ovid, whose precepts, copied even -in severe Cluny, were freely followed. Most of all is this poetry -classical in its frankly pagan view of life. Its gods are Venus and -Bacchus, also Decius, the god of dice. Love and wine and spring, life -on the open road and under the blue sky, these are the common subjects; -the spirit is that of an intense delight in the world that is, a joy in -mere living, such as one finds in the Greek and Roman poets or in that -sonorous song of a later age which the academic world still cherishes, - - Gaudeamus igitur iuvenes dum sumus. - -In general the Goliardic poetry is of an impersonal sort, giving us -few details from any particular place, but reflecting the gayer, -more jovial, less reputable side of the life of mediaeval clerks. -The worshipful order of vagrants is described, open to men of every -condition and every clime, with its rules which are no rules, -late-risers, gamesters, roysterers, proud that none of its members has -more than one coat to his back, begging their way from town to town -with requests for money which sound like students’ letters in verse: - - I, a wandering scholar lad, - Born for toil and sadness, - Oftentimes am driven by - Poverty to madness. - - Literature and knowledge I - Fain would still be earning, - Were it not that want of pelf - Makes me cease from learning. - - These torn clothes that cover me - Are too thin and rotten; - Oft I have to suffer cold, - By the warmth forgotten. - - Scarce I can attend at church, - Sing God’s praises duly; - Mass and vespers both I miss, - Though I love them truly. - - Oh, thou pride of N----, - By thy worth I pray thee - Give the suppliant help in need, - Heaven will sure repay thee. - - Take a mind unto thee now - Like unto St. Martin; - Clothe the pilgrim’s nakedness, - Wish him well at parting. - - So may God translate your soul - Into peace eternal, - And the bliss of saints be yours - In His realm supernal. - -The brethren greet each other at wayside taverns with songs like this: - - We in our wandering, - Blithesome and squandering, - Tara, tantara, teino! - - Eat to satiety, - Drink with propriety; - Tara, tantara, teino! - - Laugh till our sides we split, - Rags on our hides we fit; - Tara, tantara, teino! - - Jesting eternally, - Quaffing infernally: - Tara, tantara, teino! - etc. - -The assembled topers are described in another poem: - - Some are gaming, some are drinking, - Some are living without thinking; - And of those who make the racket, - Some are stripped of coat and jacket; - Some get clothes of finer feather, - Some are cleaned out altogether; - No one there dreads death’s invasion, - But all drink in emulation. - -Then they sacrilegiously drink once for all prisoners and captives, -three times for the living, a fourth time for the whole body of -Christians, a fifth for those departed in the faith, and so on to -the thirteenth for those who travel by land or water, and a final -and unlimited potation for king and Pope. Such poetry is plainly the -expression of a ‘wet’ age. - -Often bibulous and erotic, the Goliardic verse contains a large amount -of parody and satire. Appealing to a public familiar with scripture and -liturgy, its authors parody anything--the Bible, hymns to the Virgin, -the canon of the mass, as in the “Drinkers’ Mass” and the “Office for -Gamblers.” One of the best-known pieces is a satire on the Papacy under -the caption of “The Gospel according to Mark-s of silver.” This is only -one of many bitter attacks on Rome, while the pride, hardness, and -greed of the higher clergy are portrayed in “Golias the Bishop.” The -point of view in general is that of the lower clergy, especially the -looser, wandering, undisciplined element which frequented the schools -and the roads, the _jongleurs_ of the clerical world, familiar subjects -of ecclesiastical legislation since the ninth century. - -Poetry of this sort is so contrary to conventional conceptions of the -Middle Ages that some writers have denied its mediaeval character. -“It is,” says one, “mediaeval only in the chronological sense,” while -others find in it close affinities with the spirit of the Renaissance -or of the Reformation. It would be more consonant with the spirit of -history to enlarge our ideas of the Middle Ages so as to correspond to -the facts of mediaeval life. The Goliardi were neither humanists before -the Renaissance nor reformers before the Reformation; they were simply -men of the Middle Ages who wrote for their own time. If the writings of -these northern and chiefly French clerks seem to anticipate the Italian -Renaissance, it may be that the Renaissance began earlier and was less -specifically Italian than has been supposed. If the authors are more -secular, even more earthy, than we should expect clerks to be, we must -learn to expect something different. In lyric poetry, as in the epic -and the drama, we are now learning more of the close interpenetration -of the lay and ecclesiastical worlds, no longer separated by the -air-tight partitions which the imagination of a later day interposed. -And whether their spirit was lay or ecclesiastical, the Goliardi were -certainly human; they saw and felt life keenly, and they wrote of what -they knew. - - * * * * * - -It is time to redress the balance with a word about a less obtrusive -element, the good student. “The life of the virtuous student,” says -Dean Rashdall, “has no annals,”[13] and in all ages he has been less -conspicuous than his more dashing fellows. Thus the ideal scholar -of the sermons is a bit colorless but obedient, respectful, eager -to learn, assiduous at lectures, and bold in debate, pondering his -lessons even during his evening promenades by the river. The ideal -student of the manuals is he who practices their precepts. The typical -student of the letters has already described himself as devoted wholly -to study, though somewhat short of money. The good student of the -poems--there is no such person! Student poetry was “not all bacchic -or erotic or profane,”[14] but much of it was, and we must not look -here for the more serious side of academic life. Jean de Hauteville’s -account of the poor and industrious scholar is representative of a -large class of students but not of a large body of poetry. The good -student’s occupations are best reflected in the course of study, his -assiduity best seen in his note-books and disputations. The documents -which concern the educational side of the university are also a source -for student life! It has been observed that the alumni reunions of our -own day are often more prolific in recollections of student escapades -than of the daily performance of the allotted task. The studious lad -of today never breaks into the headlines as such, and no one has seen -fit to produce a play or a film “featuring the good student.” Yet -everyone familiar with contemporary universities knows that the serious -student exists in large numbers, and it has been shown conclusively -that the distinction he there achieves reflects itself in his later -life. So it was in the Middle Ages. The law students of Bologna -insisted on their money’s worth of teaching from their professors. -The examinations described by Robert de Sorbon required serious -preparation. Not only was the vocational motive a strong incentive to -study in the mediaeval university, but there was much enthusiasm for -knowledge and much discussion of intellectual subjects. The greater -universities, at least, were intellectually very much alive, with -something of that ‘religion of learning’ which had earlier called -Abelard’s pupils into the wilderness, there to build themselves huts -that they might feed upon his words. The books of the age were in large -measure written by its professors, and the students had the advantage -of seeing them in the making and thus drinking of learning at its -fountain-head. Then as now, the moral quality of a university depended -on the intensity and seriousness of its intellectual life. - -If we consider the body of student literature as a whole, its most -striking, and its most disappointing, characteristic is its lack of -individuality. The _Manuale Scholarium_ is written for the use of all -scholars who propose to attend universities of students. The letters -are made as general as possible in order to fit the need of any student -who wants money, clothes, or books. Even the poems, where we have -some right to expect personal expression of feeling, have the generic -character of most mediaeval poetry; they are for the most part the -voice of a class, not of individuals. - -At the same time it must be remembered that this characteristic of the -student productions, if it robs them of something of their interest, -increases their historical value. The historian deals with the general -rather than the particular, and his knowledge must be built up by a -painful collection and comparison of individual facts, which are often -too few or too unlike to admit of sound generalization. In the case of -these student records, however, that labor has already been performed -for him; in the form in which they come down to us they have lost, -at the hands of the students themselves, what is local and peculiar -and exceptional, and have become, what in view of the nature of our -information no historian could hope to make them, the generalized -experience of centuries of student life. - -It is this broadly human quality that gives the productions of -the mediaeval student a special interest for the world of today. -In substance, though not in form, many of them are almost as -representative of modern Harvard or Yale as of mediaeval Oxford or -Paris. The Latin dialogue and disputation, the mud of Bologna, and -the money-changers of the Grand-Pont, belong plainly in the Middle -Ages and not in our time; but money and clothing, rooms, teachers, and -books, good cheer and good fellowship, have been subjects of interest -at all times and all places. A professor of history once said that -the greatest difficulty of historical teaching lay in convincing -pupils that the events of the past did not all happen in the moon. -The Middle Ages are very far away, farther from us in some respects -than is classical antiquity, and it is very hard to realize that men -and women, then and now, are after all much the same human beings. We -need constantly to be reminded that the fundamental factors in man’s -development remain much the same from age to age and must so remain -as long as human nature and physical environment continue what they -have been. In his relations to life and learning the mediaeval student -resembled his modern successor far more than is often supposed. If his -environment was different, his problems were much the same; if his -morals were perhaps worse, his ambition was as active, his rivalries as -intense, his desire for learning quite as keen. And for him as for us, -intellectual achievement meant membership in that city of letters not -made with hands, “the ancient and universal company of scholars.” - - - - -BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE - - -I - -The standard work on mediaeval universities is Hastings Rashdall, -_The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages_ (Oxford, 1895; new -edition in preparation), to which my indebtedness will be apparent -throughout. The later literature can be most easily found in L. J. -Paetow, _Guide to the Study of Mediaeval History_ (Berkeley, 1917). -Important materials are conveniently accessible in translation in D. -C. Munro, _The Mediaeval Student_ (Philadelphia, 1895); and A. O. -Norton, _Readings in the History of Education: Mediaeval Universities_ -(Cambridge, Mass., 1909). Bologna now has a cartulary and a special -series of _Studî e Memorie_ (both since 1907); while the municipal -history of the early period has been studied by A. Hessel, _Geschichte -der Stadt Bologna von 1116 bis 1280_ (Berlin, 1910). Light has recently -been thrown on Salerno by the studies of Giacosa and Sudhoff and the -dissertations of Sudhoff’s pupils; its most popular product, _The -School of Salernum_, can be read in the quaint English version of Sir -John Harrington, recently reprinted (London, 1922) with a good note by -F. H. Garrison and a less valuable preface by Francis R. Packard. Paris -still lacks a modern historian; Mullinger is still the standard work on -Cambridge; while Oxford can best be studied in Rashdall, supplemented, -as in the case of Cambridge, by the histories of the several colleges. - - -II - -The most useful general work on the content of mediaeval learning is -Henry Osborn Taylor, _The Mediaeval Mind_ (third edition, New York, -1919). This may be supplemented by R. L. Poole, _Illustrations of the -History of Mediaeval Thought and Learning_ (second edition, London, -1920); M. Grabmann, _Geschichte der scholastischen Methode_ (Freiburg, -1909-11); Sir J. E. Sandys, _History of Classical Scholarship_, I -(third edition, Cambridge, 1921); Lynn Thorndike, _History of Magic and -Experimental Science_ (New York, 1923); Pierre Duhem, _Le système du -monde de Platon à Copernic_, II-V (Paris, 1914-17); Charles H. Haskins, -_Studies in the History of Mediaeval Science_ (in press, Harvard -University Press); the standard histories of philosophy, mathematics, -law, and medicine; and the more special literature in Paetow’s -_Guide_, including his own study of the _Arts Course_ (Urbana, 1910) -and his edition of the _Battle of the Seven Arts_ (Berkeley, 1914). For -a sample of Abelard’s _Sic et Non_, see Norton, _Readings_, pp. 20-25. -Abelard’s method can be followed further in the logical writings edited -for the first time by B. Geyer in Baeumker’s _Beiträge zur Geschichte -der Philosophie des Mittelalters_, XXI (Münster, 1919 ff.). The best -account of the class-rooms of a mediaeval university is F. Cavazza, _Le -scuole dell’antico studio bolognese_ (Milan, 1896). Robert de Sorbon’s -_De conscientia_ is edited by Chambon (Paris, 1903). - - -III - -Brief sketches of student life will be found in the last chapter of -Rashdall and in the little volume of R. S. Rait, _Life in the Mediaeval -University_ (Cambridge, 1912). In the text I have drawn freely from an -article of my own on student letters (_American Historical Review_, -III, pp. 203-229) and from one on the Paris sermons (_ib._, X, pp. -1-27). John of Garlande’s _Dictionary_ will be found most conveniently -in T. Wright, _A Volume of Vocabularies_ (London, 1882), pp. 120-138; -he also wrote a _Morale Scolarium_ of which Paetow is preparing an -edition. The _Manuale Scholarium_ has been translated and annotated by -R. F. Seybolt (Harvard University Press, 1921). _Statuta vel Precepta -Scolarium_ have been edited by M. Weingart (Metten, 1894) and by P. -Bahlmann in _Mitteilungen der Gesellschaft für deutsche Erziehungs- und -Schulgeschichte_, III, pp. 129-145 (1893). The latest discussion of -mediaeval manuals of manners is by S. Glixelli, in _Romania_, XLVII, -pp. 1-40 (1921). The best single collection of Goliardic verse is J. -A. Schmeller, _Carmina Burana_ (Breslau, 1894); the best translations -are those of J. A. Symonds, _Wine, Women, and Song_. Two poets have -since been individualized, the Primate by Léopold Delisle and W. Meyer, -the Archpoet by B. Schmeidler and M. Manitius. For an introduction to -the vast literature of Goliardic poetry, see Paetow’s _Guide_, pp. -449 f.; P. S. Allen, in _Modern Philology_, V, VI; and H. Süssmilch, -_Lateinische Vagantenpoesie_ (Leipzig, 1917). On the origin of the word -‘Goliardi,’ see James Westfall Thompson, in the _Studies in Philology_, -published by the University of North Carolina, XX, pp. 83-98 (1923). - - - - -INDEX - - - Abelard, 20, 21, 54-56, 72, 122, 129. - - Albertus Magnus, 68. - - Alcuin, 54. - - Alfred, King, 6. - - Allen, P. S., 130. - - Anselm, 70. - - Arabic learning, 8, 47, 73. - - Archpoet, 112-114, 130. - - Aristotle, 8, 39, 41, 42, 46, 55, 72-74. - - Arnold, Matthew, quoted, 32. - - Arts, seven, 7, 37-46. - - Averroës, 73, 74. - - Avicenna, 47. - - - Bede, 39. - - Berlin, 30. - - Bernard of Chartres, 19, 56. - - Besançon, 107. - - Bible, 47, 52. - - Boethius, 8, 39. - - Bologna, 4-6, 10-18, 24, 27, 30, 32, 34, 44, 48, 49, 52, 56-63, 66, - 67, 81, 105, 111, 122, 127. - - Bonaventura, 68. - - Books, control of, 14, 51-53. - - Brown University, 30, 31. - - Bryce, James, quoted, 35. - - Buoncompagni, 44, 57, 62, 67. - - Cambridge, 28, 30, 32, 34, 128. - - Cathedral schools, 9, 19-21. - - Cavazza, F., 129. - - Chancellor, 21, 23, 47, 63-66, 74. - - Charlemagne, 6, 54. - - Chartres, 19, 20, 39, 56, 57, 106. - - Chaucer, 9, 41, 52, 87, 88. - - Classics, 39-41, 54-56, 112, 114. - - Class-rooms, 61, 62. - - Coimbra, 30, 33, 34. - - Colleges, 26-28, 32-35, 53, 82. - - _Corpus Juris Civilis_, 11, 12, 48, 58-61. - - Cracow, 30. - - Cujas, 76. - - - Dante, quoted, 42, 51, 62. - - Degrees, 17, 35. - - Denifle, H., 7. - - Dominicans, 68. - - Donatus, 39. - - Duhem, P., 128. - - - Edinburgh, 30. - - Erfurt, 99. - - Étienne de Tournay, 71. - - Euclid, 8, 39. - - Examinations, 17, 63-67, 122. - - Franciscans, 68, 75. - - Frederick Barbarossa, 13, 113. - - Frederick II, 10, 18. - - Freedom, academic, 69-78. - - - Galen, 45, 47. - - Galileo, 19. - - Gerbert, 54. - - Germany, universities and schools of, 28-30, 66, 92-101. - - Gilbert de la Porrée, 72. - - Gilds, 13-17. - - Glixelli, S., 130. - - Glossators, 12, 49-51. - - Goliardi, 112-120, 130. - - Grabmann, M., 128. - - Gratian, 12, 50, 51, 55. - - Gregory IX, 22, 51, 70. - - - Haskins, C. H., 128, 129. - - Heidelberg, 29, 92-95. - - Henri d’Andeli, 40, 129. - - Hessel, A., 127. - - Hildebert, 40. - - Hippocrates, 9, 19, 47. - - - Inception, 67, 110, 111. - - Irnerius, 12. - - - Jacques de Vitry, quoted, 25. - - John of Brescain, 74. - - John of Garlande, 57, 90-92, 129, 130. - - John of Hauteville, 87. - - John of Salisbury, 19, 40, 55-57. - - - Laon, 19. - - Latin, use of, 89-102. - - Law, Canon, 12, 19, 24, 41, 50, 51. - - Law, Roman, 8, 10-18, 24, 41, 48-50, 58-61. - - Leipzig, 30, 82. - - Letters, student, 102-111. - - Libraries, 4, 51-53. - - Liège, 19. - - Logic, 41-43, 56, 57. - - London, 30. - - Lorenzo of Aquileia, 57. - - Louvain, 30. - - Lowell, J. R., quoted, 20. - - - Maitland, F. W., quoted, 11. - - Manchester, 30. - - _Manuale Scholarium_, 92-94, 123, 130. - - Manuals of manners, 101, 102, 130. - - Martianus Capella, 38. - - Medicine, 8-10, 19, 24, 47, 48, 127. - - Montpellier, 18, 30, 32, 48. - - Munro, D. C., 25, 127. - - - Naples, 18, 57. - - Nations, 24-26. - - Nigel Wireker, 87. - - Nominalism and realism, 77, 78, 93. - - Norton, A. O., 56, 127, 129. - - Odofredus, 58-61. - - Orleans, 18, 19, 32, 39-41, 57, 83, 107-112. - - Oxford, 6, 9, 28, 30, 32-34, 52, 53, 75, 81, 82, 88, 104, 128. - - - Padua, 16, 18, 30, 31, 34. - - Paetow, L. J., 127, 129, 130. - - Palermo, 16. - - Paris, 4-6, 12, 19-30, 32, 34, 41-45, 52, 53, 56, 57, 63-66, 73-75, - 83-88, 90-92, 97, 112, 128. - - Parody, 118. - - Pavia, 113. - - Pepo, 12. - - Peter Lombard, 47. - - Philip Augustus, 22. - - Poetry, student, 111-120. - - Ponce of Provence, 57, 108. - - Poole, R. L., 56, 128. - - Prague, 30. - - Primate, 112, 130. - - Priscian, 39. - - Professors, 15-17, 54-78. - - Ptolemy, 8, 39. - - - Quadrivium, 7, 37. - - - Rait, R. S., 129. - - Rashdall, H., 7, 127; - quoted, 27, 29, 34, 36, 49, 61, 120, 121. - - Raymond, Master, 74. - - Renaissance, of twelfth century, 7-12, 111, 112. - - Rheims, 19. - - Rhetoric, 40, 43-45, 103. - - Richer, 19, 54. - - Robert de Sorbon, 27, 34, 63-66, 122, 129. - - Ruprecht, 29. - - Rutebeuf, 87. - - - Salamanca, 30. - - Salerno, 9, 10, 30, 31, 112, 127. - - Sandys, J. E., 128. - - Savigny, F. K. von, 61. - - Schools, cathedral, 19-21; - grammar, 95-101. - - Sermons, Paris, 82-87. - - Socrates, 3. - - Sorbonne, 27, 34, 53. - - Spain, 8, 18, 27, 30. - - Strasbourg, 30. - - Students, 13-15, 79-126; - students, letters by, 102-111; - students, manuals for, 89-102; - students, poems concerning, 87, 88, 111-120; - students, sermons concerning, 82-87. - - Sudhoff, K., 127. - - Süssmilch, H., 130. - - Symonds, J. A., 111, 114, 130. - - - Taylor, H. O., 54, 128. - - Textbooks, 37-53. - - Theodosius II, 6. - - Theology, 12, 24, 28, 46, 47, 72-78. - - Thomas Aquinas, 55, 68, 73. - - Thompson. J. W., 130. - - Thorndike, L., 128. - - Toledo, 112. - - Toulouse, 45. - - Tours, 54, 110. - - Trivium, 7, 37. - - - United States, university tradition in, 30-36, 125. - - Universities, characterized and defined, 4, 5, 9, 13, 14; - number of, 29, 30; - origin of, 5-29; - studies of, 37-51; - teaching in, 54-78; - tradition of, 31-36. - - - Vienna, 30. - - - William of Conches, 56. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - - -[1] As translated by Munro, _The Mediaeval Student_, p. 19. - -[2] Translated in E. F. Henderson, _Select Historical Documents of the -Middle Ages_, pp. 262-266. - -[3] Table in Rashdall, _Universities_, I, p. xxviii; map at beginning -of Vol. II and in Shepherd, _Historical Atlas_ (New York, 1911), p. 100. - -[4] E. G. Browne, _Arabian Medicine_ (1921), p. 93. - -[5] _Universities_, I, pp. 254-255. - -[6] Sic heredes Gratiani - Student fieri decani, - Abbates, pontifices. - -[7] Richer, I, cc. 45-54; extracts translated in Taylor, _Mediaeval -Mind_ (1919), I, pp. 289-293. - -[8] Translated in R. L. Poole, _Illustrations of the History of -Mediaeval Thought_, pp. 203-212; A. O. Norton, _Readings in the History -of Education_, pp. 28-34. What we know of these masters is analyzed by -Poole in the _English Historical Review_, xxxv, pp. 321-342 (1920). - -[9] Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, MS. Lat. 4489, f. 102; Savigny, -_Geschichte des römischen Rechts im Mittelalter_ (1834), III, pp. 264, -541, 553; cf. Rashdall, I, p. 219. - -[10] Alzog, _Church History_ (1876), II, p. 733. - -[11] MS. Lat. n. a. 619, ff. 28-35. - -[12] Supra, p. 67. - -[13] _Universities_, II, p. 692. - -[14] _Ib._, II, p. 686, note. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - -Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - -Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - -Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES *** - -***** This file should be named 63574-0.txt or 63574-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/7/63574/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Rise of Universities - -Author: Charles Homer Haskins - -Release Date: October 29, 2020 [EBook #63574] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES *** -</pre> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="50%" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="center">THE COLVER LECTURES<br /> -IN BROWN UNIVERSITY<br /> - -1923</p> - -<p class="center">THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES<br /> - -BY<br /> - -CHARLES H. HASKINS</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ii"></a>[ii]</span></p> -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="center">COLVER LECTURES<br /> -<br /> - -HUMAN LIFE AS THE BIOLOGIST<br /> -SEES IT<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">By Vernon Kellogg</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Published by<br /> -HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_iii"></a>[iii]</span></p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<p>BROWN UNIVERSITY. THE COLVER LECTURES, 1923</p> - -<h1><span class="small">THE</span><br /> -RISE OF UNIVERSITIES</h1> - - -<p>BY<br /> -<span class="large">CHARLES HOMER HASKINS</span><br /> - -GURNEY PROFESSOR OF HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE<br /> -DEAN OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF ARTS AND SCIENCES<br /> -HARVARD UNIVERSITY</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p>NEW YORK<br /> -<span class="large">HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY</span><br /> -1923</p> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_iv"></a>[iv]</span></p> - -<p class="center"> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1923<br /> -By Brown University</span><br /> -<br /> -PRINTED IN<br /> -UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_v"></a>[v]</span></p> - -<p class="center"> -TO MY STUDENTS<br /> -IN THREE UNIVERSITIES<br /> -1888-1923</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vi"></a>[vi]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vii"></a>[vii]</span> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Colver lectureship is provided by a -fund of $10,000 presented to the University -by Mr. and Mrs. Jesse L. Rosenberger -of Chicago in memory of Mrs. Rosenberger’s -father, Charles K. Colver of the class of 1842. -The following sentences from the letter accompanying -the gift explain the purposes of -the foundation:—</p> -</div> - -<p>“It is desired that, so far as possible, for -these lectures only subjects of particular importance -and lecturers eminent in scholarship -or of other marked qualifications shall be -chosen. It is desired that the lectures shall -be distinctive and valuable contributions to -human knowledge, known for their quality -rather than their number. Income, or portions -of income, not used for lectures may be used -for the publication of any of the lectures -deemed desirable to be so published.”</p> - -<p>Charles Kendrick Colver (1821-1896) was -a graduate of Brown University of the class -of 1842. The necrologist of the University -wrote of him: “He was distinguished for his -broad and accurate scholarship, his unswerving -personal integrity, championship of truth, and -obedience to God in his daily life. He was -severely simple and unworldly in character.”</p> - -<p>The lectures now published in this series -are:—</p> - -<div class="hangingindent"> -<p class="center">1916</p> - - - -<p><i>The American Conception of Liberty and Government</i>, -by Frank Johnson Goodnow, -LL.D., President of Johns Hopkins University.</p> - - - -<p class="center"><span class="pagenum2"><a id="Page_viii"></a>[viii]</span>1917</p> - - - -<p><i>Medical Research and Human Welfare</i>, by -W. W. Keen, M.D., LL.D. (Brown), Emeritus -Professor of Surgery, Jefferson Medical -College, Philadelphia.</p> - -<p class="center">1918</p> - - - -<p><i>The Responsible State: A Reëxamination of -Fundamental Political Doctrines in the Light -of World War and the Menace of Anarchism</i>, -by Franklin Henry Giddings, LL.D., Professor -of Sociology and the History of -Civilization in Columbia University; sometime -Professor of Political Science in Bryn -Mawr College.</p> - -<p class="center">1919</p> - - - -<p><i>Democracy: Discipline: Peace</i>, by William -Roscoe Thayer.</p> - -<p class="center">1920</p> - - - -<p><i>Plymouth and the Pilgrims</i>, by Arthur Lord.</p> - -<p class="center">1921</p> - - - -<p><i>Human Life as the Biologist Sees It</i>, by Vernon -Kellogg, Sc.D., LL.D., Secretary, National -Research Council; sometime Professor in -Stanford University.</p> - -<p class="center">1922</p> - - - -<p><i>The Rise of Universities</i>, by Charles H. Haskins, -Ph.D., LL.D., Litt.D., Gurney Professor -of History and Political Science, -Dean of the Graduate School of Arts and -Sciences, in Harvard University.</p></div> -</div> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ix"></a>[ix]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td class="tdr"><span class="small">PAGES</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Earliest Universities</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3"> 3-36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Introduction</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3"> 3</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Bologna and the South</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_10"> 10</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Paris and the North</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_19"> 19</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">The mediaeval inheritance</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31"> 31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Mediaeval Professor</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37"> 37-78</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Studies and textbooks</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37"> 37</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Teaching and examination</span>s</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_54"> 54</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Academic status and freedom</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68"> 68</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Mediaeval Student</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_79"> 79-126</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Sources of information</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_79"> 79</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Student manuals</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89"> 89</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Student letters</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_102"> 102</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Student poetry</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_111"> 111</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="gap">Conclusion</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_120"> 120</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="smcap">Bibliographical Note</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_127"> 127-130</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td><span class="smcap">Index</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_131"> 131-134</a></td></tr> -</table> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span> -<p class="ph1">THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span> -<p class="ph1">THE<br /> -RISE OF UNIVERSITIES</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">I<br /> - - -THE EARLIEST UNIVERSITIES</h2> - - -<p><span class="smcap">Universities</span>, like cathedrals and parliaments, -are a product of the Middle -Ages. The Greeks and the Romans, -strange as it may seem, had no universities -in the sense in which the word has -been used for the past seven or eight centuries. -They had higher education, but -the terms are not synonymous. Much of -their instruction in law, rhetoric, and philosophy -it would be hard to surpass, but -it was not organized into the form of permanent -institutions of learning. A great -teacher like Socrates gave no diplomas; -if a modern student sat at his feet for -three months, he would demand a certificate,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span> -something tangible and external -to show for it—an excellent theme, by -the way, for a Socratic dialogue. Only in -the twelfth and thirteenth centuries do -there emerge in the world those features -of organized education with which we are -most familiar, all that machinery of instruction -represented by faculties and colleges -and courses of study, examinations -and commencements and academic degrees. -In all these matters we are the -heirs and successors, not of Athens and -Alexandria, but of Paris and Bologna.</p> - -<p>The contrast between these earliest -universities and those of today is of course -broad and striking. Throughout the period -of its origins the mediaeval university -had no libraries, laboratories, or museums, -no endowment or buildings of its -own; it could not possibly have met the requirements -of the Carnegie Foundation! -As an historical textbook from one of the -youngest of American universities tells -us, with an unconscious touch of local -color, it had “none of the attributes of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span> -material existence which with us are so -self-evident.” The mediaeval university -was, in the fine old phrase of Pasquier, -“built of men”—<i>bâtie en hommes</i>. Such -a university had no board of trustees and -published no catalogue; it had no student -societies—except so far as the university -itself was fundamentally a society of students—no -college journalism, no dramatics, -no athletics, none of those “outside -activities” which are the chief excuse -for inside inactivity in the American -college.</p> - -<p>And yet, great as these differences are, -the fact remains that the university of the -twentieth century is the lineal descendant -of mediaeval Paris and Bologna. They -are the rock whence we were hewn, the -hole of the pit whence we were digged. -The fundamental organization is the -same, the historic continuity is unbroken. -They created the university tradition of -the modern world, that common tradition -which belongs to all our institutions of -higher learning, the newest as well as the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span> -oldest, and which all college and university -men should know and cherish. The -origin and nature of these earliest universities -is the subject of these three lectures. -The first will deal with university -institutions, the second with university instruction, -the third with the life of university -students.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In recent years the early history of -universities has begun to attract the serious -attention of historical scholars, and -mediaeval institutions of learning have at -last been lifted out of the region of myth -and fable where they long lay obscured. -We now know that the foundation of the -University of Oxford was not one of the -many virtues which the millennial celebration -could properly ascribe to King -Alfred; that Bologna did not go back to -the Emperor Theodosius; that the University -of Paris did not exist in the time -of Charlemagne, or for nearly four centuries -afterward. It is hard, even for -the modern world, to realize that many<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span> -things had no founder or fixed date of -beginning but instead “just grew,” arising -slowly and silently without definite -record. This explains why, in spite of all -the researches of Father Denifle and -Dean Rashdall and the local antiquaries, -the beginnings of the oldest universities -are obscure and often uncertain, so that -we must content ourselves sometimes with -very general statements.</p> - -<p>The occasion for the rise of universities -was a great revival of learning, not that -revival of the fourteenth and fifteenth -centuries to which the term is usually applied, -but an earlier revival, less known -though in its way quite as significant, -which historians now call the renaissance -of the twelfth century. So long as knowledge -was limited to the seven liberal arts -of the early Middle Ages, there could be -no universities, for there was nothing to -teach beyond the bare elements of grammar, -rhetoric, logic, and the still barer notions -of arithmetic, astronomy, geometry, -and music, which did duty for an academic<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span> -curriculum. Between 1100 and 1200, -however, there came a great influx of new -knowledge into western Europe, partly -through Italy and Sicily, but chiefly -through the Arab scholars of Spain—the -works of Aristotle, Euclid, Ptolemy, -and the Greek physicians, the new arithmetic, -and those texts of the Roman law -which had lain hidden through the Dark -Ages. In addition to the elementary -propositions of triangle and circle, Europe -now had those books of plane and solid -geometry which have done duty in schools -and colleges ever since; instead of the -painful operations with Roman numerals—how -painful one can readily see by -trying a simple problem of multiplication -or division with these characters—it -was now possible to work readily with -Arabic figures; in the place of Boethius -the “Master of them that know” became -the teacher of Europe in logic, metaphysics, -and ethics. In law and medicine -men now possessed the fulness of ancient -learning. This new knowledge burst the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span> -bonds of the cathedral and monastery -schools and created the learned professions; -it drew over mountains and across -the narrow seas eager youths who, like -Chaucer’s Oxford clerk of a later day, -‘would gladly learn and gladly teach,’ -to form in Paris and Bologna those academic -gilds which have given us our first -and our best definition of a university, a -society of masters and scholars.</p> - -<p>To this general statement concerning -the twelfth century there is one partial -exception, the medical university of Salerno. -Here, a day’s journey to the south -of Naples, in territory at first Lombard -and later Norman, but still in close contact -with the Greek East, a school of medicine -had existed as early as the middle -of the eleventh century, and for perhaps -two hundred years thereafter it was the -most renowned medical centre in Europe. -In this “city of Hippocrates” the medical -writings of the ancient Greeks were -expounded and even developed on the -side of anatomy and surgery, while its<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span> -teachings were condensed into pithy maxims -of hygiene which have not yet lost -their vogue—“after dinner walk a -mile,” etc. Of the academic organization -of Salerno we know nothing before 1231, -and when in this year the standardizing -hand of Frederick II regulated its degrees -Salerno had already been distanced -by newer universities farther north. Important -in the history of medicine, it had -no influence on the growth of university -institutions.</p> - -<p>If the University of Salerno is older -in time, that of Bologna has a much larger -place in the development of higher education. -And while Salerno was known only -as a school of medicine, Bologna was a -many-sided institution, though most noteworthy -as the centre of the revival of the -Roman law. Contrary to a common impression, -the Roman law did not disappear -from the West in the early Middle -Ages, but its influence was greatly diminished -as a result of the Germanic invasions. -Side by side with the Germanic<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span> -codes, Roman law survived as the customary -law of the Roman population, -known no longer through the great law -books of Justinian but in elementary -manuals and form-books which grew -thinner and more jejune as time went on. -The <i>Digest</i>, the most important part of -the <i>Corpus Juris Civilis</i>, disappears from -view between 603 and 1076; only two -manuscripts survived; in Maitland’s -phrase, it “barely escaped with its life.” -Legal study persisted, if at all, merely as -an apprenticeship in the drafting of documents, -a form of applied rhetoric. -Then, late in the eleventh century, and -closely connected with the revival of trade -and town life, came a revival of law, foreshadowing -the renaissance of the century -which followed. This revival can be -traced at more than one point in Italy, -perhaps not first at Bologna, but here it -soon found its centre for the geographical -reasons which, then as now, made this -city the meeting-point of the chief routes -of communication in northern Italy.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span> -Some time before 1100 we hear of a professor -named Pepo, “the bright and shining -light of Bologna”; by 1119 we meet -with the phrase <i>Bononia docta</i>. At Bologna, -as at Paris, a great teacher stands -at the beginning of university development. -The teacher who gave Bologna its -reputation was one Irnerius, perhaps the -most famous of the many great professors -of law in the Middle Ages. Just what he -wrote and what he taught are still subjects -of dispute among scholars, but he seems to -have fixed the method of ‘glossing’ the -law texts upon the basis of a comprehensive -use of the whole <i>Corpus Juris</i>, as -contrasted with the meagre epitomes of -the preceding centuries, fully and finally -separating the Roman law from rhetoric -and establishing it firmly as a subject of -professional study. Then, about 1140, -Gratian, a monk of San Felice, composed -the <i>Decretum</i> which became -the standard text in canon law, thus -marked off from theology as a distinct -subject of higher study; and the preëminence<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span> -of Bologna as a law school was -fully assured.</p> - -<p>A student class had now appeared, expressing -itself in correspondence and in -poetry, and by 1158 it was sufficiently -important in Italy to receive a formal -grant of rights and privileges from Emperor -Frederick Barbarossa, though no -particular town or university is mentioned. -By this time Bologna had become -the resort of some hundreds of students, -not only from Italy but from -beyond the Alps. Far from home and -undefended, they united for mutual protection -and assistance, and this organization -of foreign, or Transmontane, students -was the beginning of the university. -In this union they seem to have followed -the example of the gilds already common -in Italian cities. Indeed, the word university -means originally such a group or -corporation in general, and only in -time did it come to be limited to gilds -of masters and students, <i>universitas -societas magistrorum discipulorumque</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span> -Historically, the word university has no -connection with the universe or the universality -of learning; it denotes only the -totality of a group, whether of barbers, -carpenters, or students did not -matter. The students of Bologna organized -such a university first as a means of -protection against the townspeople, for -the price of rooms and necessaries rose -rapidly with the crowd of new tenants -and consumers, and the individual student -was helpless against such profiteering. -United, the students could bring -the town to terms by the threat of -departure as a body, secession, for the -university, having no buildings, was free -to move, and there are many historic examples -of such migrations. Better rent -one’s rooms for less than not rent them at -all, and so the student organizations -secured the power to fix the prices of -lodgings and books through their representatives.</p> - -<p>Victorious over the townsmen, the students -turned on ‘their other enemies, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span> -professors.’ Here the threat was a collective -boycott, and as the masters lived -at first wholly from the fees of their pupils, -this threat was equally effective. The -professor was put under bond to live up -to a minute set of regulations which guaranteed -his students the worth of the -money paid by each. We read in the -earliest statutes (1317) that a professor -might not be absent without leave, even a -single day, and if he desired to leave town -he had to make a deposit to ensure his -return. If he failed to secure an audience -of five for a regular lecture, he was -fined as if absent—a poor lecture indeed -which could not secure five hearers! He -must begin with the bell and quit within -one minute after the next bell. He was -not allowed to skip a chapter in his commentary, -or postpone a difficulty to the -end of the hour, and he was obliged to -cover ground systematically, so much in -each specific term of the year. No one -might spend the whole year on introduction -and bibliography! Coercion of this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span> -sort presupposes an effective organization -of the student body, and we hear of two -and even four universities of students, -each composed of ‘nations’ and presided -over by a rector. Emphatically Bologna -was a student university, and Italian students -are still quite apt to demand a voice -in university affairs. When I first visited -the University of Palermo I found it -just recovering from a riot in which the -students had broken the front windows -in a demand for more frequent, and thus -less comprehensive, examinations. At -Padua’s seventh centenary last May the -students practically took over the town, -with a programme of processions and ceremonies -quite their own and an amount -of noise and tumult which almost broke -up the most solemn occasions and did -break the windows of the greatest hall in -the city.</p> - -<p>Excluded from the ‘universities’ of -students, the professors also formed a gild -or ‘college,’ requiring for admission thereto -certain qualifications which were ascertained<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span> -by examination, so that no student -could enter save by the gild’s consent. -And, inasmuch as ability to teach a subject -is a good test of knowing it, the -student came to seek the professor’s license -as a certificate of attainment, regardless -of his future career. This certificate, the -license to teach (<i>licentia docendi</i>), thus -became the earliest form of academic -degree. Our higher degrees still preserve -this tradition in the words master -(<i>magister</i>) and doctor, originally synonymous, -while the French even have a -<i>licence</i>. A Master of Arts was one qualified -to teach the liberal arts; a Doctor of -Laws, a certified teacher of law. And the -ambitious student sought the degree and -gave an inaugural lecture, even when he -expressly disclaimed all intention of continuing -in the teaching profession. -Already we recognize at Bologna the -standard academic degrees as well as the -university organization and well-known -officials like the rector.</p> - -<p>Other subjects of study appeared in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> -course of time, arts, medicine, and theology, -but Bologna was preëminently a -school of civil law, and as such it became -the model of university organization for -Italy, Spain, and southern France, countries -where the study of law has always -had political and social as well as merely -academic significance. Some of these universities -became Bologna’s competitors, -like Montpellier and Orleans as well as -the Italian schools nearer home. Frederick -II founded the University of -Naples in 1224 so that the students of his -Sicilian kingdom could go to a Ghibelline -school at home instead of the Guelfic centre -in the North. Rival Padua was -founded two years earlier as a secession -from Bologna, and only last year, on the -occasion of Padua’s seven-hundredth anniversary, -I saw the ancient feud healed -by the kiss of peace bestowed on Bologna’s -rector amid the encores of ten thousand -spectators. Padua, however, scarcely -equalled Bologna in our period, even -though at a later age Portia sent thither<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> -for legal authority, and though the university -still shines with the glory of -Galileo.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In northern Europe the origin of universities -must be sought at Paris, in the -cathedral school of Notre-Dame. By the -beginning of the twelfth century in -France and the Low Countries learning -was no longer confined to monasteries but -had its most active centres in the schools -attached to cathedrals, of which the most -famous were those of Liège, Rheims, -Laon, Paris, Orleans, and Chartres. The -most notable of these schools of the liberal -arts was probably Chartres, distinguished -by a canonist like St. Ives and by famous -teachers of classics and philosophy like -Bernard and Thierry. As early as 991 -a monk of Rheims, Richer, describes the -hardships of his journey to Chartres in -order to study the <i>Aphorisms</i> of Hippocrates -of Cos; while from the twelfth century -John of Salisbury, the leading northern -humanist of the age, has left us an<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> -account of the masters which we shall -later have occasion to cite. Nowhere else -today can we drop back more easily into a -cathedral city of the twelfth century, the -peaceful town still dominated by its -church and sharing, now as then,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="indent9">the minster’s vast repose.</div> -<div class="verse">Silent and gray as forest-leaguered cliff</div> -<div class="verse">Left inland by the ocean’s slow retreat,</div> -<div class="indent9">... patiently remote</div> -<div class="verse">From the great tides of life it breasted once,</div> -<div class="verse">Hearing the noise of men as in a dream.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>By the time the cathedral stood complete, -with its “dedicated shapes of saints and -kings,” it had ceased to be an intellectual -centre of the first importance, over-shadowed -by Paris fifty-odd miles away, -so that Chartres never became a university.</p> - -<p>The advantages of Paris were partly -geographical, partly political as the capital -of the new French monarchy, but -something must be set down to the influence -of a great teacher in the person of -Abelard. This brilliant young radical,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span> -with his persistent questioning and his -scant respect for titled authority, drew -students in large numbers wherever he -taught, whether at Paris or in the wilderness. -At Paris he was connected with the -church of Mont-Sainte-Geneviève longer -than with the cathedral school, but resort -to Paris became a habit in his time, and -in this way he had a significant influence -on the rise of the university. In an institutional -sense the university was a direct -outgrowth of the school of Notre-Dame, -whose chancellor alone had authority to -license teaching in the diocese and thus -kept his control over the granting of university -degrees, which here as at Bologna -were originally teachers’ certificates. The -early schools were within the cathedral -precincts on the Ile de la Cité, that tangled -quarter about Notre-Dame pictured -by Victor Hugo which has long since -been demolished. A little later we find -masters and scholars living on the Little -Bridge (Petit-Pont) which connected the -island with the Left Bank of the Seine—this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> -bridge gave its name to a whole school -of philosophers, the Parvipontani—but -by the thirteenth century they have over-run -the Left Bank, thenceforth the Latin -Quarter of Paris.</p> - -<p>At what date Paris ceased to be a cathedral -school and became a university, -no one can say, though it was certainly before -the end of the twelfth century. Universities, -however, like to have precise -dates to celebrate, and the University of -Paris has chosen 1200, the year of its first -royal charter. In that year, after certain -students had been killed in a town and -gown altercation, King Philip Augustus -issued a formal privilege which punished -his prévôt and recognized the exemption -of the students and their servants from -lay jurisdiction, thus creating that special -position of students before the courts -which has not yet wholly disappeared -from the world’s practice, though generally -from its law. More specific was the -first papal privilege, the bull <i>Parens scientiarum</i> -of 1231, issued after a two<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> -years’ cessation of lectures growing out -of a riot in which a band of students, having -found “wine that was good and sweet -to drink,” beat up the tavern keeper and -his friends till they in turn suffered from -the prévôt and his men, a dissension in -which the thirteenth century clearly saw -the hand of the devil. Confirming the -existing exemptions, the Pope goes on to -regulate the discretion of the chancellor -in conferring the license, at the same time -that he recognizes the right of the masters -and students “to make constitutions and -ordinances regulating the manner and -time of lectures and disputations, the -costume to be worn,” attendance at masters’ -funerals, the lectures of bachelors, -necessarily more limited than those of -fully fledged masters, the price of lodgings, -and the coercion of members. Students -must not carry arms, and only those -who frequent the schools regularly are to -enjoy the exemptions of students, the -interpretation in practice being attendance -at not less than two lectures a week.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span>While the word university does not appear -in these documents, it is taken for -granted. A university in the sense of an -organized body of masters existed already -in the twelfth century; by 1231 it had developed -into a corporation, for Paris, in -contrast to Bologna, was a university of -masters. There were now four faculties, -each under a dean: arts, canon law (civil -law was forbidden at Paris after 1219), -medicine, and theology. The masters of -arts, much more numerous than the -others, were grouped into four ‘nations:’ -the French, including the Latin -peoples; the Norman; the Picard, including -also the Low Countries; and the -English, comprising England, Germany, -and the North and East of Europe. -These four nations chose the head of the -university, the rector, as he is still generally -styled on the Continent, whose term, -however, was short, being later only three -months. If we may judge from such -minutes as have survived, much of the -time of the nations was devoted to consuming<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span> -the fees collected from new members -and new officers, or, as it was called, -drinking up the surplus—at the Two -Swords near the Petit-Pont, at the sign -of Our Lady in the Rue S.-Jacques, at -the Swan, the Falcon, the Arms of -France, and scores of similar places. A -learned monograph on the taverns of mediaeval -Paris has been written from the -records of the English nation alone. The -artificial constitution of the nations seems -to have encouraged rather than diminished -the feuds and rivalries between the -various regions represented at Paris, of -which Jacques de Vitry has left a classic -description:<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> - -<p>“They wrangled and disputed not -merely about the various sects or about -some discussions; but the differences between -the countries also caused dissensions, -hatreds, and virulent animosities -among them, and they impudently uttered -all kinds of affronts and insults<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span> -against one another. They affirmed that -the English were drunkards and had tails; -the sons of France proud, effeminate, and -carefully adorned like women. They -said that the Germans were furious and -obscene at their feasts; the Normans, vain -and boastful; the Poitevins, traitors and -always adventurers. The Burgundians -they considered vulgar and stupid. The -Bretons were reputed to be fickle and -changeable, and were often reproached -for the death of Arthur. The Lombards -were called avaricious, vicious, and cowardly; -the Romans, seditious, turbulent, -and slanderous; the Sicilians, tyrannical -and cruel; the inhabitants of Brabant, -men of blood, incendiaries, brigands, and -ravishers; the Flemish, fickle, prodigal, -gluttonous, yielding as butter, and -slothful. After such insults, from words -they often came to blows.”</p> - -<p>Another university institution which -goes back to twelfth-century Paris is the -college. Originally merely an endowed -hospice or hall of residence, the college<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> -early became an established unit of academic -life at many universities. “The -object of the earliest college-founders was -simply to secure board and lodging for -poor scholars who could not pay for it -themselves;” but in course of time the -colleges became normal centres of life and -teaching, absorbing into themselves much -of the activity of the university. The colleges -had buildings and endowments, if -the university had not. There was a college -at Paris as early as 1180; there were -sixty-eight by 1500, and the system survived -until the Revolution, to leave behind -it only fragments of buildings or -local names like the Sorbonne of today, -sole memento of that Collège de la Sorbonne -founded for theologians by a confessor -of St. Louis in the thirteenth century. -Many other continental universities -had their colleges, one of which, the -ancient College of Spain at Bologna, still -survives for the delectation of the few -Spanish youths who reach its quiet courtyard. -But of course the ultimate home of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> -the college was Oxford and Cambridge, -where it came to be the most characteristic -feature of university life, arrogating -to itself practically all teaching as well as -direction of social life, until the university -became merely an examining and degree-conferring -body. Here the older -colleges like Balliol, Merton, and Peterhouse -date from the thirteenth century.</p> - -<p>Paris was preëminent in the Middle -Ages as a school of theology, and, as theology -was the supreme subject of mediaeval -study, “Madame la haute science” -it was called, this means that it was -preëminent as a university. “The Italians -have the Papacy, the Germans have -the Empire, and the French have Learning,” -ran the old saying; and the chosen -abode of learning was Paris. Quite naturally -Paris became the source and the -model for northern universities. Oxford -branched off from this parent stem late -in the twelfth century, likewise with no -definite date of foundation; Cambridge -began somewhat later. The German universities,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span> -none of them older than the -fourteenth century, were confessed imitations -of Paris. Thus the Elector Palatine, -Ruprecht, in founding the University -of Heidelberg in 1386—for these -later universities were founded at specific -dates—provides that it “shall be ruled, -disposed, and regulated according to the -modes and matters accustomed to be observed -in the University of Paris, and -that as a handmaid of Paris—a worthy -one let us hope—it shall imitate the steps -of Paris in every way possible, so that -there shall be four faculties,” four nations -and a rector, exemptions for students -and their servants, and even caps -and gowns for the several faculties “as -has been observed at Paris.”<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> - -<p>By the end of the Middle Ages at least -eighty universities had been founded in -different parts of Europe.<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Some of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> -these were short-lived, many were of only -local importance, others like Salerno -flourished only to die, but some like Paris -and Montpellier, Bologna and Padua, -Oxford and Cambridge, Vienna and -Prague and Leipzig, Coimbra and Salamanca, -Cracow and Louvain, have an -unbroken history of many centuries of -distinction. And the great European universities -of more recent foundation, like -Berlin, Strasbourg, Edinburgh, Manchester, -and London, follow in their organization -the ancient models. In America -the earliest institutions of higher learning -reproduced the type of the contemporary -English college at a time when the -university in England was eclipsed by -its constituent colleges; but in the creation -of universities in the later nineteenth -century, America turned to the universities -of the Continent and thus entered -once more into the ancient inheritance. -Even in the colonial period a sense of the -general university tradition survived, for -the charter of Rhode Island College in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span> -1764 grants “the same privileges, dignities, -and immunities enjoyed by the -American colleges, and European universities.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>What then is our inheritance from the -oldest of universities? In the first place -it is not buildings or a type of architecture, -for the early universities had no -buildings of their own, but on occasion -used private halls and neighboring -churches. After all, as late as 1775 the -First Baptist Church in Providence was -built “for the publick worship of Almighty -God, and also for holding Commencement -in”! Indeed one who seeks -to reconstruct the life of ancient universities -will find little aid in their existing -remains. Salerno retains no monuments -of its university, though its rare old cathedral, -where Hildebrand lies buried, must -have seen the passing of many generations -of would-be physicians. In the halls -and coats of arms of “many-domed -Padua proud” we behold the Renaissance,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> -not the Middle Ages. Even Bologna, -<i>Bononia docta</i>, with its leaning -towers and cool arcades, has no remains -of university architecture earlier than the -fourteenth century, from which date the -oldest monuments of its professors of law -gathered now into the municipal museum. -Montpellier and Orleans preserve nothing -from this period. Paris, too often -careless of its storied past, can show today -only the ancient church of Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, -where university meetings -were often held, unless we count, as -we should, the great cathedral in the Cité -whence the university originally sprang. -The oldest Cambridge college, Peterhouse, -has only a fragment of its earliest -buildings; the finest Cambridge monument, -King’s College chapel, is of the late -fifteenth century. More than all others -Oxford gives the deepest impression of -continuity with an ancient past, Matthew -Arnold’s Oxford, “so venerable, so -lovely ... steeped in sentiment as she -lies, spreading her gardens to the moon-light,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span> -and whispering from her towers the -last enchantments of the Middle Age;” -yet so far as the actual college buildings -are concerned they have much more of -sentiment than of the Middle Ages. Only -at Merton, which fixed the college type -at Oxford, do any of the present structures -carry us back of 1300, and nowhere -is there much of the fourteenth century. -Those venerable glories of Oxford, the -Bodleian library, the tower of Magdalen, -and the hall of Christ Church, belong to -a much later age, the period of the Tudors, -and thus by ordinary reckoning to -modern times. When we say how very -mediaeval, we often mean how very -Tudor!</p> - -<p>Neither does the continuity lie in academic -form and ceremony, in spite of occasional -survivals, like the conferring of -degrees by the ring or the kiss of peace, -or the timing of examinations by the hour -glass as I have seen it at Portuguese -Coimbra. Academic costume has in it -some element of tradition where it is a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> -daily dress as at Oxford, Cambridge, and -Coimbra, but in America the tradition -was broken by our ancestors, and the -formal cap and gown current in the -United States today are a product of -modern Albany rather than of mediaeval -Paris and Bologna. Even in their ancient -homes the costumes have changed. “It -is probable,” says Rashdall, “that no -gown now worn in Oxford has much resemblance -to its mediaeval ancestor.” A -student of mediaeval Padua would not -recognize the variegated procession which -wound through its streets last summer; -Robert de Sorbon would rub his eyes at -the non-mediaeval styles of the gorgeous -gowns which were massed on the stage of -the great hall of the Sorbonne when President -Wilson received his honorary degree -in 1918.</p> - -<p>It is, then, in institutions that the university -tradition is most direct. First, the -very name university, as an association of -masters and scholars leading the common -life of learning. Characteristic of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span> -Middle Ages as such a corporation is, -the individualistic modern world has -found nothing to take its place. Next, -the notion of a curriculum of study, definitely -laid down as regards time and subjects, -tested by an examination and leading -to a degree, as well as many of the -degrees themselves—bachelor, as a stage -toward the mastership, master, doctor, in -arts, law, medicine, and theology. Then -the faculties, four or more, with their -deans, and the higher officers such as chancellors -and rectors, not to mention the -college, wherever the residential college -still survives. The essentials of university -organization are clear and unmistakable, -and they have been handed down in unbroken -continuity. They have lasted -more than seven hundred years—what -form of government has lasted so long? -Very likely all this is not final—nothing -is in this world of flux—but it is singularly -tough and persistent, suited to use -and also to abuse, like Bryce’s university -with a faculty “consisting of Mrs. Johnson<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span> -and myself,” or the “eleven leading -universities” of a certain state of the -Middle West! Universities are at times -criticised for their aloofness or their devotion -to vocationalism, for being too -easy or too severe, and drastic efforts have -been made to reform them by abolishing -entrance requirements or eliminating all -that does not lead directly to bread and -butter; but no substitute has been found -for the university in its main business, -the training of scholars and the maintenance -of the tradition of learning and investigation. -The glory of the mediaeval -university, says Rashdall, was “the consecration -of Learning,” and the glory and -the vision have not yet perished from the -earth. “The mediaeval university,” it -has been said, “was the school of the modern -spirit.” How the early universities -performed this task will be the theme of -the next lecture.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">II<br /> - - -THE MEDIAEVAL PROFESSOR</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the last lecture we considered the -mediaeval university as an institution. -We come now to examine it as an intellectual -centre. This involves some account -of its course of study, its methods -of teaching, and the status and freedom -of its teachers. The element of continuity, -so clear in institutions, is often less -evident in the content of learning, but -even here the thread is unbroken, the contrast -with modern conditions less sharp -than is often supposed.</p> - -<p>The basis of education in the early -Middle Ages consisted, as we have seen, of -the so-called seven liberal arts. Three of -these, grammar, rhetoric, and logic, were -grouped as the trivium; the remaining -four, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, -and music, made up the quadrivium. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span> -first group was the more rudimentary, -but the second was rudimentary enough. -The number was fixed and the content -standardized during the decadence of ancient -learning, and the whole conception -reached the Middle Ages chiefly in the -book of a certain Martianus Capella, -written in the early fifth century. These -later ages of classical antiquity, in condensing -and desiccating knowledge for -their own more limited intelligence, were -also unconsciously preparing for later -times those small and convenient packages -which alone could be carried as a -<i>viaticum</i> through the stormy times of the -Dark Ages. It was almost wholly as -formulated in a few standard texts that -the learning of the ancient world was -transmitted to mediaeval times, and the -authority of these manuals was so great -that a list of those in use in any period affords -an accurate index of the extent of -its knowledge and the nature of its instruction. -It was a bookish age, with -great reverence for standard authorities,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span> -and its instruction followed closely the -written word.</p> - -<p>In the monastic and cathedral schools of -the earlier period the textbooks were few -and simple, chiefly the Latin grammars -of Donatus and Priscian with some elementary -reading-books, the logical manuals -of Boethius, as well as his arithmetic -and music, a manual of rhetoric, the most -elementary propositions of geometry, and -an outline of practical astronomy such as -that of the Venerable Bede. Of Greek, -of course, there was none. This slender -curriculum in arts was much enlarged by -the renaissance of the twelfth century, -which added to the store of western -knowledge the astronomy of Ptolemy, -the complete works of Euclid, and the -Aristotelian logic, while at the same time -under the head of grammar great stimulus -was given to the study and reading of -the Latin classics. This classical revival, -which is noteworthy and comparatively -little known, centred in such cathedral -schools as Chartres and Orleans, where<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span> -the spirit of a real humanism showed itself -in an enthusiastic study of ancient -authors and in the production of Latin -verse of a really remarkable quality. Certain -writings of one of these poets, Bishop -Hildebert of Le Mans, were even mistaken -for “real antiques” by later humanists. -Nevertheless, though brilliant, -this classical movement was short-lived, -crushed in its early youth by the triumph -of logic and the more practical studies of -law and rhetoric. In the later twelfth -century John of Salisbury inveighs -against the logicians of his day, with their -superficial knowledge of literature; in the -university curriculum of the thirteenth -century, literary studies have quite disappeared. -Toward 1250, when a French -poet, Henri d’Andeli, wrote his <i>Battle of -the Seven Arts</i>, the classics are already -the ancients, fighting a losing battle -against the moderns:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="verse">Logic has the students,</div> -<div class="verse">Whereas Grammar is reduced in numbers.</div> -<div class="verse"> · · · · · · · </div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span> -<div class="verse">Civil Law rode gorgeously</div> -<div class="verse">And Canon Law rode haughtily</div> -<div class="verse">Ahead of all the other arts.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>If the absence of the ancient classics -and of vernacular literature is a striking -feature of the university curriculum in -arts, an equally striking fact is the -amount of emphasis placed on logic or -dialectic. The earliest university statutes, -those of Paris in 1215, require the -whole of Aristotle’s logical works, and -throughout the Middle Ages these remain -the backbone of the arts course, so that -Chaucer can speak of the study of logic -as synonymous with attendance at a university—</p> - -<p class="center">That un-to logik hadde longe y-go.</p> - -<p>In a sense this is perfectly just, for logic -was not only a major subject of study itself, -it pervaded every other subject as a -method and gave tone and character to -the mediaeval mind. Syllogism, disputation, -the orderly marshalling of arguments<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span> -for and against specific theses, -these became the intellectual habit of the -age in law and medicine as well as in philosophy -and theology. The logic, of -course, was Aristotle’s, and the other -works of the philosopher soon followed, -so that in the Paris course of 1254 we find -also the <i>Ethics</i>, the <i>Metaphysics</i>, and the -various treatises on natural science which -had at first been forbidden to students. -To Dante Aristotle had become “the -Master of them that know,” by virtue of -the universality of his method no less than -of his all-embracing learning. “The -father of book knowledge and the grandfather -of the commentator,” no other -writer appealed so strongly as Aristotle -to the mediaeval reverence for the textbook -and the mediaeval habit of formal -thought. Doctrines like the eternity of -matter which seemed dangerous to faith -were explained away, and great and authoritative -systems of theology were built -up by the methods of the pagan philosopher. -And all idea of literary form disappeared<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span> -when everything depended on -argument alone.</p> - -<p>If the study of the classics became confined -to examples and excerpts designed to -illustrate the rules of grammar, rhetoric -had a somewhat different fate by reason -of its practical applications. The intellectual -life of the Middle Ages was not -characterized by spontaneous or widely -diffused power of literary expression. -Few were able to write, still fewer could -compose a letter, and the professional -scribes and notaries on whom devolved -the greater part of the labor of mediaeval -correspondence fastened upon the letter-writing -of the period the stereotyped -formalism of a conventional rhetoric. -Regular instruction in the composition of -letters and official acts was given in the -schools and chanceries, and numerous -professors, called <i>dictatores</i>, went about -from place to place teaching this valuable -art—“often and exceeding necessary -for the clergy, for monks suitable, and for -laymen honorable,” as one rhetorician<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span> -tells us. By the thirteenth century such -masters had found a place in certain universities, -especially in Italy and Southern -France, and they advertised their wares -in a way that has been compared to the -claims of a modern business course—short -and practical, with no time wasted -on outgrown classical authors but everything -fresh and snappy and up-to-date, -ready to be applied the same day if need -be! Thus one professor at Bologna derides -the study of Cicero, whom he cannot -recall having read, and promises to train -his students in writing every sort of letter -and official document which was demanded -of the notaries and secretaries of -his day. Since, as we shall see in the next -lecture, such teachers specialized in the -composition of student letters, chiefly skilful -appeals to the parental purse, their -practical utility was at once apparent. -“Let us,” says one writer, “take as our -theme today that a poor and diligent student -at Paris is to write his mother for -necessary expenses.” Would not every<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span> -listener be sure that here at least he had -found “the real thing”? The professor -of rhetoric might also be called in to draft -a university prospectus, like the circular -issued in 1229 by the masters of the new -University of Toulouse setting forth its -superiority to Paris—theologians teaching -in the pulpits and preaching at the -street corners, lawyers magnifying Justinian -and physicians Galen, professors of -grammar and logic, and musicians with -their organs, lectures on the books of natural -philosophy then forbidden at Paris, -low prices, a friendly populace, the way -now prepared by the extirpation of the -thorns of heresy, a land flowing with milk -and honey, Bacchus reigning in the vineyards -and Ceres in the fields under the -mild climate desired by the philosophers -of old, with plenary indulgence for all -masters and students. Who could resist -such an appeal from the South?</p> - -<p>With grammar and rhetoric reduced to -a subordinate position and the studies of -the quadrivium receiving but scant attention,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> -the arts course was mainly a -course in logic and philosophy, plus so -much of the natural sciences as could be -apprehended by the scholastic study of -the “natural books” of Aristotle. Laboratories -there were none until long after -the Middle Ages were past, and of history -and the social sciences nothing was heard -in universities until still later. Hard, -close drill on a few well-thumbed books -was the rule. The course in arts led normally -to the master’s degree in six years, -with the baccalaureate somewhere on the -way. Graduation in arts was the common -preparation for professional study, being -regularly required for theology and -usual for intending lawyers and physicians. -A sound tradition, to which the -American world has given too little attention!</p> - -<p>Contrary to a common impression, -there were relatively few students of theology -in mediaeval universities, for a -prescribed theological training for the -priesthood came in only with the Counter-Reformation.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span> -The requirements for admission -were high; the course in theology -itself was long; the books were costly. -True, these books were commonly only -the Bible and the <i>Sentences</i> of Peter -Lombard, but the Bible in the Middle -Ages might run into several volumes, -especially when accompanied by gloss and -commentary, and the copying of these by -hand was a tedious and costly business. -An ambitious student at Orleans who asks -for money to buy a Bible and begin -theology is advised by his father to turn -rather to some lucrative profession. At -the best, complain the Paris chancellors, -students come late to theology, which -should be the wife of their youth.</p> - -<p>Medicine likewise was studied in books, -chiefly Galen and Hippocrates with their -Arabic translators and commentators, -among whom Avicenna held the first -place after the thirteenth century. Indeed -Avicenna was still more firmly intrenched -in the East, for as late as 1887 -a majority of the native physicians in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span> -Persian capital “knew no medicine but -that of Avicenna.”<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> Except for some -advance in anatomy and surgery at certain -southern schools, like Bologna and -Montpellier, the mediaeval universities -made no contributions to medical knowledge, -for no subject was less adapted to -their prevailing method of verbal and -syllogistic dogmatism.</p> - -<p>In law the basis of all instruction was -inevitably the <i>Corpus Juris Civilis</i> of -Justinian, for the customary law of mediaeval -Europe was never a subject of university -study. The central book was the -<i>Digest</i>, summarizing the ripest fruits of -Roman legal science, and it was their -mastery of the <i>Digest</i> that gives preëminence -to the mediaeval civilians. They -brought the resources of the whole <i>Corpus</i> -to bear on each passage in an elaborate -gloss, and they showed refinement and -subtlety of legal thought analogous to -that of the scholastic philosophers. After -all, “law is a form of scholasticism.” But<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span> -whereas the scholastic method in philosophy -has lost hold on much of the modern -world, the work of the glossators still -survives. “In many respects,” says Rashdall,<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> -“the work of the School of Bologna -represents the most brilliant achievement -of the intellect of mediaeval Europe. -The mediaeval mind had, indeed, a certain -natural affinity for the study and development -of an already existing body of -Law. The limitations of its knowledge -of the past and of the material Universe -were not, to any appreciable extent, a bar -to the mastery of a Science which concerns -itself simply with the business and -the relations of every-day life. The Jurist -received his Justinian on authority as the -Theologian received the Canonical and -Patristic writings, or the Philosopher his -Aristotle, while he had the advantage of -receiving it in the original language. It -had only to be understood, to be interpreted, -developed, and applied.... The -works of these men are, perhaps, the only<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span> -productions of mediaeval learning to -which the modern Professor of any science -whatever may turn, not merely for -the sake of their historical interest, not -merely in the hope of finding ideas of a -suggestive value, but with some possibility -of finding a solution of the doubts, -difficulties and problems which still beset -the modern student.”</p> - -<p>The canon law was closely associated -with the civil, indeed for many purposes -it was desirable to graduate in both these -subjects as a <i>Doctor utriusque juris</i>, or -as we say a J.U.D. or an LL. D. Canon -law was condemned by the theologians as -a “lucrative” subject, which drew students -away from pure learning toward -the path of ecclesiastical preferment. By -the thirteenth century the mediaeval -church was a vast administrative machine -which needed lawyers to run it, and a -well-trained canonist had a good chance -of rising to the highest dignities.<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> No<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span> -wonder canon law attracted the ambitious, -the wealthy, even the idle, for at Paris -we are told that the lazy students frequented -the lectures of the canonists in -the middle of the morning, rather than -the other courses which began at six. The -standard textbook in canon law was the -<i>Decretum</i> of Gratian, supplemented by -the decretals of subsequent popes, especially -the great collection which Gregory -IX in 1234 distributed to the principal -universities. The methods of studying -these texts were the same as in the civil -law, giving rise to the rich canonistic literature -of the later Middle Ages and the -marginal glosses for which, according to -Dante, “the Gospel and the great doctors -are deserted.”</p> - -<p>Of the textbooks needed in all these -subjects the university undertook to secure -a supply at once sufficient, correct, -and cheap, for the regulation of the book -trade was one of the earliest and most -valued of university privileges. As books -were costly they were commonly rented,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span> -at a fixed price per quire, rather than -owned; indeed the sale of books was -hedged in by close restrictions designed -to curb monopoly prices and to prevent -their removal from town. The earliest -Paris tariff, ca. 1286, lists for rent copies -of one hundred and thirty-eight different -books. In course of time many students -came to have books of their own—a -Bible, or at least some part of it, a piece -of the <i>Digest</i>, perhaps even the “twenty -bokes clad in blak or reed” of Chaucer’s -Oxford clerk. Whether rented or owned, -the supply was not inconsiderable; on the -Bolognese monuments each student has -a book before him. So long as each copy -had to be made by hand, accuracy was a -matter of much importance, and the university -had its supervisors and correctors -who inspected periodically all the books -for sale in the town. Moreover, at Bologna -a constant supply of new books was -secured by the requirement that every -professor should turn over a copy of his -repetitions and disputations to the stationers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span> -for publication. The principal books -of law and theology were the natural -outgrowth of university lectures. With -demand and supply so largely concentrated -in the universities, it is not surprising -that these should have become the -chief centres of the book trade and, as -we should say, of the publishing business. -So long as students could rent the books -they required, there was less need for libraries -than we might at first suppose, -and it was quite natural that for long the -university as such should have no library. -In course of time, however, books were -given for the use of students, chiefly in -the form of bequests to the colleges, where -they could be borrowed or consulted on -the spot. By 1338 the oldest extant catalogue -of the Sorbonne, the chief Paris -library, lists 1722 volumes, many of them -still to be seen in the Bibliothèque Nationale, -while many an Oxford college -still preserves codices which belonged to -its library in the Middle Ages.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span>Turning from books to professors, we -should note at the outset that the Middle -Ages produced many excellent and renowned -teachers. The mechanism of -learning was still comparatively simple, -its content not yet overwhelming, and, in -spite of the close adherence to texts, there -was a large scope for the personality of -the instructor. Thus, long before the -days of universities, Alcuin was the moving -spirit in the revival of education at -the court of Charlemagne and the monastery -school of Tours, and two centuries -later Gerbert of Rheims roused the wonder -of contemporaries by his skilful use of -the classics in the study of rhetoric and by -devices for the teaching of astronomy so -ingenious that they seemed in some way -“divine.”<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> From the period of university -origins we get a fairly clear impression -of Abelard as a teacher and ‘class-room -entertainer,’ bold, original, lucid,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span> -sharply polemical, always fresh and stimulating, -and withal “able to move to -laughter the minds of serious men.” His -procedure as exhibited in his <i>Sic et non</i> -was to marshal authorities and arguments -for and against specific propositions, -a method which was soon imitated -in Gratian’s <i>Concord of Discordant Canons</i>, -and, reënforced by the <i>New Logic</i> -of Aristotle, was to culminate in the -scholastic method of St. Thomas Aquinas -and stamp itself upon the thought of -many generations. Sharpening to the -wits as this method was in the hands of -Abelard and his successors, the very antagonism -of yes or no as he formulated it -left no room for intermediate positions, -for those <i>nuances</i> of thought in which, as -Renan pointed out, truth is usually to be -found.</p> - -<p>For a contemporary impression of the -teachers of the twelfth century, nothing is -so good as the oft-quoted passages in -which John of Salisbury describes his -<i>Wanderjahre</i> in France from 1136 to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span> -1147, chiefly at Paris and Chartres.<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> -Learning the rudiments of dialectic from -Abelard, he continued under two other -teachers of this art, one over-scrupulous -in detail, perspicuous, brief, and to the -point, the other subtle and profuse, showing -that simple answers could not be -given. “Afterward one of them went to -Bologna and unlearned what he had -taught, so that on his return he also untaught -it.” John then passed on to -Chartres to study grammar under William -of Conches and Bernard. The humane -yet thorough teaching of literature here -excited his warm admiration—close -study, memorizing choice extracts, grammar -taught by composition, imitation of -excellent models but merciless exposure of -borrowed finery, qualities which made Bernard -“the most copious source of letters<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span> -in Gaul in modern times.” Returning to -Paris after twelve years’ absence, John -found his old companions “as before, and -where they were before; nor did they appear -to have reached the goal in unravelling -the old questions, nor had they added -one jot of a proposition. The aims that -once inspired them, inspired them still: -they had progressed in one point only: -they had unlearned moderation, they -knew not modesty; in such wise that one -might despair of their recovery. And -thus experience taught me a manifest -conclusion, that, whereas dialectic furthers -other studies, so if it remain by itself it lies -bloodless and barren, nor does it quicken -the soul to yield fruit of philosophy, except -the same conceive from elsewhere.”</p> - -<p>The teachers of the thirteenth century -who talk most about themselves are the -professors of grammar and rhetoric like -Buoncompagno at Bologna, John of Garlande -at Paris, Ponce of Provence at -Orleans, and Lorenzo of Aquileia at -Naples and almost everywhere, but we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span> -shall make sufficient acquaintance with -their inflated writings in other connections. -More significant is the account -which Odofredus gives of his lectures on -the <i>Old Digest</i> at Bologna:</p> - -<p>“Concerning the method of teaching -the following order was kept by ancient -and modern doctors and especially by my -own master, which method I shall observe: -First, I shall give you summaries -of each title before I proceed to the text; -second, I shall give you as clear and explicit -a statement as I can of the purport -of each law [included in the title]; third, -I shall read the text with a view to correcting -it; fourth, I shall briefly repeat the -contents of the law; fifth, I shall solve -apparent contradictions, adding any general -principles of law [to be extracted -from the passage], commonly called -‘Brocardica,’ and any distinctions or -subtle and useful problems (<i>quaestiones</i>) -arising out of the law with their solutions, -as far as the Divine Providence shall enable -me. And if any law shall seem deserving,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span> -by reason of its celebrity or difficulty, -of a repetition, I shall reserve it -for an evening repetition, for I shall dispute -at least twice a year, once before -Christmas and once before Easter, if you -like.</p> - -<p>“I shall always begin the <i>Old Digest</i> on -or about the octave of Michaelmas [6 -October] and finish it entirely, by God’s -help, with everything ordinary and extraordinary, -about the middle of August. -The <i>Code</i> I shall always begin about a -fortnight after Michaelmas and by God’s -help complete it, with everything ordinary -and extraordinary, about the first of -August. Formerly the doctors did not -lecture on the extraordinary portions; -but with me all students can have profit, -even the ignorant and the new-comers, for -they will hear the whole book, nor will -anything be omitted as was once the common -practice here. For the ignorant can -profit by the statement of the case and the -exposition of the text, the more advanced -can become more adept in the subtleties<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span> -of questions and opposing opinions. -And I shall read all the glosses, which was -not the practice before my time.” Then -comes certain general advice as to the -choice of teachers and the methods of -study, followed by some general account -of the <i>Digest</i>.</p> - -<p>This course closed as follows: “Now -gentlemen, we have begun and finished -and gone through this book as you know -who have been in the class, for which we -thank God and His Virgin Mother and -all His saints. It is an ancient custom in -this city that when a book is finished mass -should be sung to the Holy Ghost, and it -is a good custom and hence should be observed. -But since it is the practice that -doctors on finishing a book should say -something of their plans, I will tell you -something but not much. Next year I -expect to give ordinary lectures well and -lawfully as I always have, but no extraordinary -lectures, for students are not good -payers, wishing to learn but not to pay, -as the saying is: All desire to know but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span> -none to pay the price. I have nothing -more to say to you beyond dismissing you -with God’s blessing and begging you to -attend the mass.”<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p> - -<p>Important as was the formal lecture in -those days of few books and no laboratories, -it was by no means the sole vehicle -of instruction. A comprehensive survey -of university teaching would need also to -take account of the less formal ‘cursory’ -or ‘extraordinary’ lectures, many of -them given by mere bachelors; the reviews -and ‘repetitions,’ which were often given -in hospices or colleges in the evenings; -and the disputations which prepared for -the final ordeal of maintaining publicly -the graduation thesis.</p> - -<p>The class-rooms in which these lectures -were given have long since disappeared. -If the master’s house had no suitable -room, he literally hired a hall in some convenient<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span> -neighborhood. At Paris such -halls were mostly in a single street on the -Left Bank, the Vicus Stramineus or Rue -du Fouarre celebrated by Dante, apparently -so-called from the straw-covered -floor on which the students sat as they -took notes. At Bologna the class-rooms -were rather more ambitious. Here Buoncompagno, -writing in 1235, has described -an ideal lecture hall, quiet and clean, with -a fair prospect from its windows, its walls -painted green but with no pictures or statues -to distract attention, the lecturer’s seat -elevated so that he may see and be seen by -all, the seats of the students permanently -assigned by nations and according to individual -rank and fame; but he adds significantly, -“I never had such a house myself -and do not believe any of this sort was -ever built.” Our knowledge of the realities -of the Bolognese class-room is derived -chiefly from the monuments and -miniatures of the professors of the fourteenth -and fifteenth centuries, in which -the master is regularly seated at a desk<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span> -under a canopy on a raised platform, -while the students have flat or inclined -desks on which their books lie open. The -professors, in medicine as in law, regularly -have an open volume before them.</p> - -<p>The nature of the final examination -is best illustrated at Paris, where it is described -in the <i>De conscientia</i> of that genial -moralist, Robert de Sorbon, founder -of the Sorbonne, by means of a suggestive -parallel with the Last Judgment. Taking -as his text Job’s desire that his “adversary -had written a book,” and outlining -his headings in the approved fashion of -his time, Robert begins with the statement -that if any one decides to seek the <i>licentia -legendi</i> at Paris and cannot be excused -from examination—as many of the great, -by special favor, are—he would much -like to be told by the chancellor, or by -some one in his confidence, on what book -he would be examined. Just as he would -be a crazy student indeed, who, having -found out which book this was, should -neglect it and spend his time on others,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span> -even so is he mad who fails to study the -book of his own conscience, in which we -shall all, without exception, be examined -at the great day. Moreover, if any one -is rejected by the chancellor, he may be reëxamined -after a year, or it may be that, -through the intercession of friends or by -suitable gifts or services to the chancellor’s -relatives or other examiners, the -chancellor can be induced to change his decision; -whereas at the Last Judgment the -sentence will be final and there will be no -help from wealth or influence or stout assertion -of ability as canonist or civilian or -of familiarity with all arguments and all -fallacies. Then, if one fails before the -chancellor of Paris, the fact is known to -but five or six and the mortification passes -away in time, while the Great Chancellor, -God, will refute the sinner ‘in full university’ -before the whole world. The chancellor, -too, does not flog the candidate, but -in the Last Judgment the guilty will be -beaten with a rod of iron from the valley -of Jehosaphat through the length of hell,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span> -nor can we reckon, like idle boys in the -grammar-schools, on escaping Saturday’s -punishment by feigning illness, playing -truant, or being stronger than the master, -or like them solace ourselves with the -thought that after all our fun is well -worth a whipping. The chancellor’s examination, -too, is voluntary; he does -not force any one to seek the degree, but -waits as long as the scholars wish, and is -even burdened with their insistent demands -for examinations. In studying -the book of our conscience we should imitate -the candidates for the license, who -eat and drink sparingly, conning steadily -the one book they are preparing, searching -out all the authorities that pertain to -this, and hearing only the professors that -lecture on this subject, so that they have -difficulty in concealing from their fellows -the fact that they are preparing for examination. -Such preparation is not the -work of five or ten days—though there -are many who will not meditate a day or -an hour on their sins—but of many<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span> -years. At the examination the chancellor -asks, “Brother, what do you say to -this question, what do you say to this one -and this one?” The chancellor is not -satisfied with a verbal knowledge of books -without an understanding of their sense, -but unlike the Great Judge, who will hear -the book of our conscience from beginning -to end and suffer no mistakes, he requires -only seven or eight passages in a book and -passes the candidate if he answers three -questions out of four. Still another difference -lies in the fact that the chancellor -does not always conduct the examination -in person, so that the student who would -be terrified in the presence of so much -learning often answers well before the -masters who act in the chancellor’s place. -Nothing is here said of the public maintenance -of a thesis against all comers, an -important final exercise which still survives -as a form in German universities.</p> - -<p>At Bologna there was first a “rigorous -and tremendous examination” before -doctors, each sworn to treat the candidate<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span> -“as he would his own son.” Then followed -a public examination and inception -which a letter home described as follows: -“‘Sing unto the Lord a new song, praise -him with stringed instruments and organs, -rejoice upon the high-sounding cymbals,’ -for your son has held a glorious disputation, -which was attended by a great multitude -of teachers and scholars. He answered -all questions without a mistake, -and no one could prevail against his arguments. -Moreover he celebrated a famous -banquet, at which both rich and poor were -honored as never before, and he has duly -begun to give lectures which are already -so popular that others’ class-rooms are -deserted and his own are filled.” The -same rhetorician also tells of an unsuccessful -candidate who could do nothing in the -disputation but sat in his chair like a -goat while the spectators in derision called -him rabbi; his guests at the banquet had -such eating that they had no will to drink, -and he must needs hire students to attend -his classes.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span>The social position of mediaeval professors -must be seen against the background -of the social system of a different -age from ours. We come perhaps nearest -to modern conditions in the cities of Italy, -where there is evidence in the Middle -Ages as now of the distinguished position -of many professors of medicine and civil -law. Many theologians and teachers of -canon law reached high places in the -church such as bishoprics and cardinalates. -Among the theologians and philosophers -those of highest distinction were -regularly university professors: Thomas -Aquinas, Albertus Magnus, Bonaventura, -all the great array of doctors angelic, -invincible, irrefragable, seraphic, subtle, -and universal. That these were also Dominicans -or Franciscans withdrew them -only partially from the world.</p> - -<p>If, as some reformers maintain, the -social position and self-respect of professors -involve their management of university -affairs, the Middle Ages were the -great age of professorial control. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span> -university itself was a society of masters -when it was not a society of students. As -there were no endowments of importance -there were no boards of trustees, nor was -there any such system of state control as -exists on the Continent or in many parts -of the United States. Administration in -the modern sense was strikingly absent, -but much time was consumed in various -sorts of university meetings. In a quite -remarkable degree the university was -self-governing as well as self-respecting, -escaping some of the abuses of a system -which occasionally allows trustees or regents -to speak of professors as their -“hired men.” Whether the individual -professor was freer under such a system -is another question, for the corporation of -masters was apt to exercise a pretty close -control over action if not over opinion, -and the tyranny of colleagues is a form of -that “tyranny of one’s next-door neighbor” -from which the world seems unable -to escape.</p> - -<p>There remains the question of the professor’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span> -intellectual liberty, the right to -teach truth as he sees it, which we have -come to call academic freedom. It is plain -that much depends here, as with Pilate, -on our conception of truth. If it is something -to be discovered by search, the -search must be free and untrammelled. -If, however, truth is something which has -already been revealed to us by authority, -then it has only to be expounded, and the -expositor must be faithful to the authoritative -doctrine. Needless to say, the latter -was the mediaeval conception of truth and -its teaching. “Faith,” it was held, “precedes -science, fixes its boundaries, and -prescribes its conditions.”<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> “I believe in -order that I may know, I do not know in -order to believe,” said Anselm. If reason -has its bounds thus set, it befits reason to -be humble. Let not the masters and students -of Paris, says Gregory IX, “show -themselves philosophers, but let them -strive to become God’s learned.” The -dangers of intellectual pride and reliance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span> -upon reason alone are illustrated by many -characteristic stories of masters struck -dumb in the midst of their boasting, like -Étienne de Tournay, who, having proved -the doctrine of the Trinity “so lucidly, -so elegantly, so catholically,” asserted -that he could just as easily demolish his -own proof. Mediaeval orthodoxy looked -askance at mere cleverness, partly because -much of the discussion of the schools led -nowhere, partly because a mind that -played too freely about a proposition -might easily fall into heresy. And for the -detection and punishment of heresy the -mediaeval church organized a special system -of courts known as the Inquisition.</p> - -<p>Such being the general conditions, what -was the actual situation? In practice freedom -was general, save in philosophy and -theology. In law, in medicine, in grammar -and mathematics, men were normally -free to lecture and dispute as they would. -As there was no social problem in the -modern sense and no teaching of the social -sciences as such, a fruitful source of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span> -difficulty was absent. So far as I know, -no mediaeval professor was condemned -for preaching free trade or free silver or -socialism or non-resistance. Moreover, -while individual treatises might be publicly -burnt, as in the later Roman Empire, -there was no organized censorship of -books before the sixteenth century.</p> - -<p>Now as to philosophy and theology. -The trouble lies of course with theology, -for philosophy was free save when it -touched theological questions. But then, -philosophy is very apt to touch theological -questions, and all through -the twelfth and thirteenth centuries -there was an intermittent fight between -Christian theology and pagan philosophy -as represented by the works of -Aristotle. It began with Abelard when -he tried to apply his logical method of -inquiry to theology, and it went on when -his contemporary, Gilbert de la Porrée, directed -still more of the Aristotelian logic -toward theological speculation. By the -end of the twelfth century, the <i>New Logic</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span> -was pretty well assimilated, but then -came Aristotle’s <i>Metaphysics</i> and natural -philosophy, with their Arabic commentators, -the study of which at Paris was -formally forbidden in 1210 and 1215. In -1231 the Pope requires them to be “examined -and purged of all suspicion of -error,” but by 1254 they are a fixed part -of the curriculum in arts, not expurgated -but reconciled by interpretation to the -Christian faith. A generation later there -is a recrudescence of Averroism, emphasizing -the doctrine of the eternity of matter -and the determination of earthly acts -by the heavenly bodies; and two hundred -and nineteen errors of this party were condemned -in 1277 by the bishop of Paris, -who took occasion to lament incursions -into theology on the part of students of -arts. Throughout this period the whole -of Aristotle was taught and studied at -Paris, and his method was used by -Thomas Aquinas to rear his vast structure -of scholastic theology. Others reserved -for themselves a wide range of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span> -philosophic speculation, and in case of -trouble they could save themselves by -falling back on the doctrine that what was -true in philosophy might be false in theology, -and <i>vice versa</i>.</p> - -<p>With an eye to this question of freedom -of teaching, I have gone through all the -documents of the thirteenth century in -the Paris <i>Chartularium</i>. Outside of the -great controversies just mentioned the result -is meagre. In 1241 a series of ten -errors was examined and condemned by -the chancellor and the professors of theology, -a very abstract series of propositions -dealing with the visibility of the divine -essence, angels, and the exact abiding-place -of glorified souls in the next -world, whether in the empyrean or the -crystalline heaven. In 1247 it appears -that a certain Master Raymond had been -imprisoned for his errors by the advice of -the masters of theology, and one John de -Brescain had been deprived of his right -to teach because of certain errors in logic -“which seemed to come near Arian<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span> -heresy,” thus confusing the subjects of -the two faculties, whose bounds had -been set by the fathers. In and about -1255 Paris was in a ferment over the so-called -‘Eternal Gospel,’ an apocalyptic -treatise which foretold a new era of the -Spirit, beginning in 1260, in which the -New Testament, the Pope, and the hierarchy -should be superseded. Accepted -by certain advanced Franciscans, these -doctrines became the occasion of a long -conflict with the Mendicant orders, but -with no very decisive results. In 1277 -Paris received notice of thirty errors in -arts condemned at Oxford, not as heretical -but as sufficient to cause the deposition -of the master teaching them; but -when we find among them the abolition -of the cases of Latin nouns and the personal -endings of verbs (<i>ego currit</i>, <i>tu -currit</i>, etc.), we are likely to sympathize -more with their unfortunate students than -with the deposed masters. One is reminded -of the modern definition of academic -freedom as “the right to say what<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span> -one thinks without thinking what one -says!”</p> - -<p>With these as the only notable examples -of interference with free teaching at -the storm centre of theological speculation -in the most active period of its history, -we must infer that there was a large -amount of actual freedom. Trouble arose -almost entirely out of what was deemed -theological heresy, or undue meddling -with theological subjects by those who -lacked theological training. Those who -stuck to their job seem generally to have -been let alone. As the great jurist Cujas -replied in the sixteenth century when -asked whether he was Protestant or Catholic, -<i>Nihil hoc ad edictum praetoris</i>. Even -within the more carefully guarded field -of theology and philosophy, it is doubtful -whether many found themselves cramped. -Accepting the principle of authority as -their starting-point, men did not feel its -limitations as we should feel them now. -A fence is no obstacle to those who do not -desire to go outside, and many barriers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span> -that would seem intolerable to a more -sceptical age were not felt as barriers by -the schoolmen. He is free who feels himself -free.</p> - -<p>Furthermore, for those accustomed to -the wide diversities of the modern world, -it is easy to form a false impression of the -uniformity and sameness of mediaeval -thought. Scholasticism was not one thing -but many, as its historians constantly remind -us, and the contests between different -schools and shades of opinion were as -keen as among the Greeks or in our own -day. And if the differences often seem -minute or unreal to our distant eye, we -can make them modern enough by turning, -for example, to the old question of -the nature of universal conceptions, which -divided the Nominalists and Realists of -the Middle Ages. Are universals mere -names, or have they a real existence, independent -of their individual embodiments? -A bit arid it all sounds if we -make it merely a matter of logic, but exciting -enough as soon as it becomes a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span> -question of life. The essence of the Reformation -lies implicit in whether we take -a nominalist or a realist view of the -church; the central problem of politics depends -largely upon a nominalist or a realist -view of the state. Upon the two sides -of this last question millions of men have -“all uncouthly died,” all unconsciously -too, no doubt, in the majority of cases, -unaware of the ultimate issues of political -authority for which they fought, but yet -able to comprehend them when expressed -in the concrete form of putting the interest -of the state above the interest of its -members.</p> - -<p>In his own time and his own way the -mediaeval professor often dealt with permanent -human interests as he sharpened -men’s wits and kept alive the continuous -tradition of learning.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">III<br /> - - -THE MEDIAEVAL STUDENT</h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">A University</span>,” it has more than -once been remarked by professors, “would -be a very comfortable place were it not -for the students.” So far we have been -considering universities from the point of -view of professors; it is now the turn of -the students, for whether these be regarded -as a necessary evil or as the main -reason for the university’s existence, they -certainly cannot be ignored. A mediaeval -university was no regiment of colonels -but “a society of masters <i>and -scholars</i>,” and to this second and more -numerous element we must now direct -our attention.</p> - -<p>The mediaeval student is a more elusive -figure than his teachers, for he is -individually less conspicuous and must -generally be seen in the mass. Moreover<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span> -the mass is much diversified in time and -space, so that generalization is difficult, -what is true of one age and one university -being quite untrue of other times and -places. Even within the briefer span of -American universities there are wide -differences among the students of, let us -say, Harvard in the seventeenth century, -William and Mary in the eighteenth century, -California in the nineteenth century, -and Columbia in the twentieth century; -and it would be impossible to make a true -picture out of elements drawn indiscriminately -from such disparate sources. Until -the conditions at each university of the -Middle Ages shall have been studied -chronologically, no sound account of student -life in general can be written, and -this preliminary labor has nowhere been -systematically attempted. At present we -can do no more than indicate the principal -sources of our information and the kind -of light they throw upon student life.</p> - -<p>Fortunately, out of the scattered remains -of mediaeval times, there has come<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span> -down to us a considerable body of material -which deals, more or less directly, -with student affairs. There are, for one -thing, the records of the courts of law, -which, amid the monotonous detail of -petty disorders and oft-repeated offences, -preserve now and then a vivid bit of -mediaeval life—like the case of the -Bolognese student who was attacked with -a cutlass in a class-room, to the great -damage and loss of those assembled to -hear the lecture of a noble and egregious -doctor of laws; or the student in 1289 -who was set upon in the street in front -of a lecture-room by a certain scribe, -“who wounded him on the head with a -stone, so that much blood gushed forth,” -while two companions gave aid and counsel, -saying, “Give it to him, hit him,” -and when the offence had been committed -ran away. So the coroners’ rolls of Oxford -record many a fatal issue of town -and gown riots, while a recently published -register of 1265 and 1266 shows the -students of Bologna actively engaged in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span> -raising money by loans and by the sale of -textbooks. There are of course the -university and college statutes, with their -prohibitions and fines, regulating the -subjects of conversation, the shape and -color of caps and gowns, that academic -dress which looks to us so mediaeval and -is, especially in its American form, so -very modern; careful also of the weightier -matters of the law, like the enactment -of New College against throwing stones -in chapel, or the graded penalties at -Leipzig for him who picks up a missile -to throw at a professor, him who throws -and misses, and him who accomplishes his -fell purpose to the master’s hurt. The -chroniclers, too, sometimes interrupt their -narrative of the affairs of kings and -princes to tell of students and their doings, -although their attention, like that of their -modern successors, the newspapers, is -apt to be caught by outbreaks of student -lawlessness rather than by the wholesome -routine of academic life.</p> - -<p>Then we have the preachers of the time,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span> -many of them also professors, whose sermons -contain frequent allusions to student -customs; indeed if further evidence -were needed to dispel the illusion that the -mediaeval university was devoted to biblical -study and religious nurture, the -Paris preachers of the period would offer -sufficient proof. “The student’s heart -is in the mire,” says one of them, “fixed -on prebends and things temporal and how -to satisfy his desires.” “They are so litigious -and quarrelsome that there is no -peace with them; wherever they go, be it -Paris or Orleans, they disturb the country, -their associates, even the whole university.” -Many of them go about the streets -armed, attacking the citizens, breaking -into houses, and abusing women. They -quarrel among themselves over dogs, -women, or what-not, slashing off one -another’s fingers with their swords, or, -with only knives in their hands and -nothing to protect their tonsured pates, -rush into conflicts from which armed -knights would hold back. Their compatriots<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span> -come to their aid, and soon whole -nations of students may be involved in -the fray. These Paris preachers take us -into the very atmosphere of the Latin -quarter and show us much of its varied -activity. We hear the cries and songs -of the streets—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Li tens s’en veit,</div> -<div class="verse">Et je n’ei riens fait;</div> -<div class="verse">Li tens revient,</div> -<div class="verse">Et je ne fais riens—</div> -</div></div> - -<p>the students’ tambourines and guitars, -their “light and scurrilous words,” their -hisses and handclappings and loud shouts -of applause at sermons and disputations. -We watch them as they mock a neighbor -for her false hair or stick out their tongues -and make faces at the passers-by. We -see the student studying by his window, -talking over his future with his room-mate, -receiving visits from his parents, -nursed by friends when he is ill, singing -psalms at a student’s funeral, or visiting -a fellow-student and asking him to visit<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span> -him—“I have been to see you, now come -to our hospice.”</p> - -<p>All types are represented. There is the -poor student, with no friend but St. -Nicholas, seeking such charity as he can -find or earning a pittance by carrying -holy water or copying for others, in a fair -but none too accurate hand, sometimes -too poor to buy books or afford the expense -of a course in theology, yet usually -surpassing his more prosperous fellows -who have an abundance of books at which -they never look. There is the well-to-do -student, who besides his books and desk -will be sure to have a candle in his room -and a comfortable bed with a soft mattress -and luxurious coverings, and will -be tempted to indulge the mediaeval -fondness for fine raiment beyond the -gown and hood and simple wardrobe -prescribed by the statutes. Then there -are the idle and aimless, drifting about -from master to master and from school -to school, and never hearing full courses -or regular lectures. Some, who care only<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span> -for the name of scholar and the income -which they receive while attending the -university, go to class but once or twice -a week, choosing by preference the lectures -on canon law, which leave them -plenty of time for sleep in the morning. -Many eat cakes when they ought to be at -study, or go to sleep in the class-rooms, -spending the rest of their time drinking -in taverns or building castles in Spain -(<i>castella in Hispania</i>); and when it is -time to leave Paris, in order to make some -show of learning such students get together -huge volumes of calfskin, with -wide margins and fine red bindings, and -so with wise sack and empty mind they -go back to their parents. “What knowledge -is this,” asks the preacher, “which -thieves may steal, mice or moths eat up, -fire or water destroy?” and he cites an -instance where the student’s horse fell -into a river, carrying all his books with -him. Some never go home, but continue -to enjoy in idleness the fruits of their -benefices. Even in vacation time, when<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span> -the rich ride off with their servants and -the poor trudge home under the burning -sun, many idlers remain in Paris to their -own and the city’s harm. Mediaeval -Paris, we should remember, was not only -the incomparable “parent of the sciences,” -but also a place of good cheer and good -fellowship and varied delights, a favorite -resort not only of the studious but of -country priests on a holiday; and it would -not be strange if sometimes scholars prolonged -their stay unduly and lamented -their departure in phrases which are something -more than rhetorical commonplace.</p> - -<p>Then the student is not unknown to the -poets of the period, among whom Rutebeuf -gives a picture of thirteenth-century -Paris not unlike that of the -sermonizers, while in the preceding century -Jean de Hauteville shows the misery -of the poor and diligent scholar falling -asleep over his books, and Nigel “Wireker” -satirizes the English students at -Paris in the person of an ass, Brunellus,—“Daun -Burnell” in Chaucer—who<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span> -studies there seven years without learning -a word, braying at the end as at the beginning -of his course, and leaving at last -with the resolve to become a monk or a -bishop. Best of all is Chaucer’s incomparable -portrait of the clerk of Oxenford, -hollow, threadbare, unworldly—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">For him was lever have at his beddes heed</div> -<div class="verse">Twenty bokes, clad in blak or reed,</div> -<div class="verse">Of Aristotle and his philosophye,</div> -<div class="verse">Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrye.</div> -<div class="verse"> · · · · · · · </div> -<div class="verse">Souninge in moral vertu was his speche,</div> -<div class="verse">And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>But after all, no one knows so much -about student life as the students themselves, -and it is particularly from what -was written by and for them, the student -literature of the Middle Ages, that I wish -to draw more at length. Such remains -of the academic past fall into three -chief classes: student manuals, student -letters, and student poetry. Let us consider -them in this order.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span>The manuals of general advice and -counsel addressed to the mediaeval -scholar do not call for extended consideration. -Formal treatises on the whole -duty of students are characteristic of the -didactic habit of mind of the Middle -Ages, but the advice which they contain -is apt to be of a very general sort, -applicable to one age as well as another -and lacking in those concrete illustrations -which enliven the sermons of the -period into useful sources for university -life.</p> - -<p>A more interesting type of student -manual, the student dictionary, owes its -existence to the position of Latin as the -universal language of mediaeval education. -Textbooks were in Latin, lectures -were in Latin, and, what is more, the use -of Latin was compulsory in all forms of -student intercourse. This rule may have -been designed as a check on conversation, -as well as an incentive to learning, but it -was enforced by penalties and informers -(called wolves), and the freshman, or<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span> -yellow-beak, as he was termed in mediaeval -parlance, might find himself but ill -equipped for making himself understood -in his new community. For his convenience -a master in the University of -Paris in the thirteenth century, John of -Garlande, prepared a descriptive vocabulary, -topically arranged and devoting a -large amount of space to the objects to -be seen in the course of a walk through -the streets of Paris. The reader is conducted -from quarter to quarter and from -trade to trade, from the book-stalls of the -Parvis Notre-Dame and the fowl-market -of the adjoining Rue Neuve to the -money-changers’ tables and goldsmiths’ -shops on the Grand-Pont and the bow-makers -of the Porte S.-Lazare, not omitting -the classes of <i>ouvrières</i> whose acquaintance -the student was most likely -to make. Saddlers and glovers, furriers, -cobblers, and apothecaries, the clerk -might have use for the wares of all of -them, as well as the desk and candle and -writing-materials which were the special<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span> -tools of his calling; but his most frequent -relations were with the purveyors of food -and drink, whose agents plied their trade -vigorously through the streets and lanes -of the Latin quarter and worked off their -poorer goods on scholars and their servants. -There were the hawkers of wine, -crying their samples of different qualities -from the taverns; the fruit-sellers, -deceiving clerks with lettuce and cress, -cherries, pears, and green apples; and at -night the vendors of light pastry, with -their carefully covered baskets of wafers, -waffles, and rissoles—a frequent stake -at the games of dice among students, -who had a custom of hanging from their -windows the baskets gained by lucky -throws of the six. The <i>pâtissiers</i> had also -more substantial wares suited to the clerical -taste, tarts filled with eggs and cheese -and well-peppered pies of pork, chicken, -and eels. To the <i>rôtissiers</i> scholars’ servants -resorted, not only for the pigeons, -geese, and other fowl roasted on their -spits, but also for uncooked beef, pork,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span> -and mutton, seasoned with garlic and -other strong sauces. Such fare, however, -was not for the poorer students, whose -slender purses limited them to tripe and -various kinds of sausage, over which a -quarrel might easily arise and “the -butchers be themselves butchered by -angry scholars.”</p> - -<p>A dictionary of this sort easily passes -into another type of treatise, the manual -of conversation. This method of studying -foreign languages is old, as survivals -from ancient Egypt testify, and it still -spreads its snares for the unwary traveller -who prepares to conquer Europe <i>à la</i> -Ollendorff. To the writers of the later -Middle Ages it seemed to offer an exceptional -opportunity for combining -Instruction in Latin with sound academic -discipline, and from both school and -university it left its monuments for our -perusal. The most interesting of these -handbooks is entitled a “Manual of -Scholars who propose to attend universities -of students and to profit therein,”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span> -and while in its most common form it is -designed for the students of Heidelberg -about the year 1480, it could be adapted -with slight changes to any of the German -universities. “Rollo at Heidelberg,” we -might call it. Its eighteen chapters conduct -the student from his matriculation -to his degree, and inform him by the way -on many subjects quite unnecessary for -either. When the young man arrives he -registers from Ulm; his parents are in -moderate circumstances; he has come to -study. He is then duly hazed after the -German fashion, which treats the candidate -as an unclean beast with horns and -tusks which must be removed by officious -fellow-students, who also hear his confession -of sin and fix as the penance a -good dinner for the crowd. He begins -his studies by attending three lectures a -day, and learns to champion nominalism -against realism and the comedies of -Terence against the law, and to discuss -the advantages of various universities -and the price of food and the quality of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span> -the beer in university towns. Then we -find him and his room-mate quarrelling -over a mislaid book; rushing at the first -sound of the bell to dinner, where they -debate the relative merits of veal and -beans; or walking in the fields beyond the -Neckar, perhaps by the famous Philosophers’ -Road which has charmed so many -generations of Heidelberg youth, and -exchanging Latin remarks on the birds -and fish as they go. Then there are -shorter dialogues: the scholar breaks the -statutes; he borrows money, and gets it -back; he falls in love and recovers; he -goes to hear a fat Italian monk preach or -to see the jugglers and the jousting in -the market-place; he knows the dog-days -are coming—he can feel them in his -head! Finally our student is told by his -parents that it is high time for him to -take his degree and come home. At this -he is much disturbed; he has gone to few -lectures, and he will have to swear that -he has attended regularly; he has not -worked much and has incurred the enmity<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span> -of many professors; his master discourages -him from trying the examination; -he fears the disgrace of failure. But his -interlocutor reassures him by a pertinent -quotation from Ovid and suggests that a -judicious distribution of gifts may do -much—a few florins will win him the -favor of all. Let him write home for more -money and give a great feast for his -professors; if he treats them well, he need -not fear the outcome. This advice throws -a curious light upon the educational -standards of the time; it appears to have -been followed, for the manual closes with -a set of forms inviting the masters to the -banquet and the free bath by which it -was preceded.</p> - -<p>If university students had need of such -elementary compends of morals and manners, -there was obviously plenty of room -for them in the lower schools as well, -where they were apt to take the form of -Latin couplets which could be readily -impressed upon the pupil’s memory. -Such <i>statuta vel precepta scolarium</i> seem<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[96]</span> -to have been especially popular in the -later fifteenth century in those city schools -of Germany whose importance has been -so clearly brought out by recent historians -of secondary education. Wandering -often from town to town, like the roving -scholars of an earlier age, these German -boys had good need to observe the moral -maxims thus purveyed. The beginning -of wisdom was to remember God and obey -the master, but the student had also to -watch his behavior in church and lift up -his voice in the choir—compulsory attendance -at church and singing in the -choir being a regular feature of these -schools—keep his books clean, and pay -his school bills promptly. Face and hands -should be washed in the morning, but -the baths should not be visited without -permission, nor should boys run on the -ice or throw snowballs. Sunday was the -day for play, but this could be only in -the churchyard, where boys must be careful -not to play with dice or break stones -from the wall or throw anything over the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span> -church. And whether at play or at home, -Latin should always be spoken.</p> - -<p>More systematic is a manual of the -fifteenth century preserved in a manuscript -of the Bibliothèque Nationale at -Paris.<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> “Since by reason of imbecility -youths cannot advance to a knowledge of -the Latin tongue by theory alone,” the -author has for their assistance prepared -a set of forms which contain the expressions -most frequently employed by clerks. -Beginning with the courtesies of school -life, for obedience and due reverence for -the master are the beginning of wisdom, -the boy learns how to greet his master and -to take leave, how to excuse himself for -wrong-doing, how to invite the master to -dine or sup with his parents—there are -half a dozen forms for this! He is also -taught how to give proper answers to -those who seek to test his knowledge, -“that he may not appear an idiot in the -sight of his parents.” “If the master -asks, ‘Where have you been so long?’” he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span> -must be ready, not only to plead the inevitable -headache or failure to wake up, but -also to express the causes of delay well -known to any village boy. He had to look -after the house or feed the cattle or water -the horse; he was detained by a wedding, -by picking grapes, or making out bills, or—for -these were German boys—by -helping with the brew, fetching beer, or -serving drink to guests.</p> - -<p>In school after the “spiritual refection” -of the morning singing-lesson -comes refection of the body, which is -placed after study hours because “the -imaginative virtue is generally impeded in -those who are freshly sated.” In their -talk at luncheon or on the playground -“clerks are apt to fall from the Latin -idiom into the mother tongue,” and for -him who speaks German the discretion of -the master has invented a dunce’s symbol -called an ass, which the holder tries hard -to pass on to another. “Wer wel ein -Griffel kouffe[n]?” “Ich wel ein Griffel -kouffen.” “Tecum sit asinus.” “Ach,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span> -quam falsus es tu!” Sometimes the -victim offers to meet his deceiver after -vespers, with the usual schoolboy brag on -both sides. As it is forbidden to come to -blows in school, the boys are taught to -work off their enmities and formulate -their complaints in Latin dialogue. “You -were outside the town after dark. You -played with laymen Sunday. You went -swimming Monday. You stayed away -from matins. You slept through mass.” -“Reverend master, he has soiled my book, -he shouts after me wherever I go, he calls -me names.” Besides the formal disputations -the scholars discuss such -current events as a street fight, a cousin’s -wedding, the coming war with the duke -of Saxony, or the means of getting to -Erfurt, whither one of them is going when -he is sixteen to study at the university. -The great ordeal of the day was the master’s -quiz on Latin grammar, when every -one was questioned in turn (<i>auditio circuli</i>). -The pupils rehearse their declensions -and conjugations and the idle begin<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span> -to tremble as the hour draws near. There -is some hope that the master may not -come. “He has guests.” “But they -will leave in time.” “He may go to the -baths.” “But it is not yet a whole week -since he was there last.” “There he -comes. Name the wolf, and he forthwith -appears.” Finally the shaky scholar falls -back on his only hope, a place near one -who promises to prompt him.</p> - -<p>“When the recitation is over and the -lesson given out, rejoicing begins among -the youth at the approach of the hour for -going home,” and they indulge in much -idle talk “which is here omitted, lest it -furnish the means of offending.” Joy is, -however, tempered by the contest which -precedes dismissal, “a serious and furious -disputation for the <i>palmiterium</i>,” until -one secures the prize and another has the -<i>asinus</i> to keep till next day.</p> - -<p>After school the boys go to play in the -churchyard, the sports mentioned being -hoops, marbles (apparently), ball (during -Lent), and a kind of counting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span> -game. The author distinguishes hoops -for throwing and for rolling, spheres of -wood and of stone, but the subject soon -becomes too deep for his Latin, and in the -midst of this topic the treatise comes to -an abrupt conclusion.</p> - -<p>In some of its forms the student -manual touches on territory already occupied -by another type of mediaeval -handbook, the manual of manners, which -under such titles as “The Book of Urbanity,” -“The Courtesies of the Table,” -etc., enjoyed much popularity from the -thirteenth century onward. Such manuals -have, however, none of the polish of -Castiglione’s <i>Courtier</i> or the elaborateness -of the modern book of etiquette. -Those who have not mastered the use of -knife and fork have little use for the finer -points of social intercourse, and the readers -of the mediaeval manuals were still -at their a b c’s in the matter of behavior. -Wash your hands in the morning and, -if you have time, your face; use your -napkin and handkerchief; eat with three<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span> -fingers, and don’t gorge; don’t be boisterous -or quarrelsome at table; don’t stare -at your neighbor or his plate; don’t -criticise the food; don’t pick your teeth -with your knife—such, with others still -more elementary, are the maxims which -meet us in this period, in Latin and -French, in English, German, and Italian, -but regularly in verse. Now and then -there is a further touch of the age: scrape -bones with your knife but don’t gnaw -them; when you have done with them, put -them in a bowl or on the floor!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>If the correspondence of mediaeval -students were preserved for us in casual -and unaffected detail, nothing could give -a more vivid picture of university conditions. -Unfortunately in some respects -for us, the Middle Ages were a period of -forms and types in letter-writing as in -other things; and for most men the writing -of a letter was less an expression of -individual feeling and experience than it -was the laborious copying of a letter of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span> -some one else, altered where necessary to -suit the new conditions. And if something -fresh or individual was produced, -there was small chance of preserving it, -since it was on that account all the less -likely to be useful to a future letter-writer—“so -careful of the type, so careless -of the single” letter, history seems. -The result is that the hundreds of student -letters which have reached us in the manuscripts -of the Middle Ages have come -down through the medium of collections -of forms or complete letter-writers, shorn -of most of their individuality but for that -very reason reflecting the more faithfully -the fundamental and universal phases of -university life.</p> - -<p>By far the largest element in the correspondence -of mediaeval students consists -of requests for money; “a student’s -first song is a demand for money,” says a -weary father in an Italian letter-writer, -“and there will never be a letter which -does not ask for cash.” How to secure -this fundamental necessity of student<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span> -life was doubtless one of the most important -problems that confronted the -mediaeval scholar, and many were the -models which the rhetoricians placed before -him in proof of the practical advantages -of their art. The letters are generally -addressed to parents, sometimes to -brothers, uncles, or ecclesiastical patrons; -a much copied exercise contained twenty-two -different methods of approaching an -archdeacon on this ever-delicate subject. -Commonly the student announces that -he is at such and such a centre of learning, -well and happy but in desperate need of -money for books and other necessary expenses. -Here is a specimen from Oxford, -somewhat more individual than the average -and written in uncommonly bad -Latin:</p> - -<p>“B. to his venerable master A., greeting. -This is to inform you that I am -studying at Oxford with the greatest -diligence, but the matter of money stands -greatly in the way of my promotion, as -it is now two months since I spent the last<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span> -of what you sent me. The city is expensive -and makes many demands; I -have to rent lodgings, buy necessaries, -and provide for many other things which -I cannot now specify. Wherefore I respectfully -beg your paternity that by the -promptings of divine pity you may assist -me, so that I may be able to complete -what I have well begun. For you must -know that without Ceres and Bacchus -Apollo grows cold.”</p> - -<p>If the father was close-fisted, there -were special reasons to be urged: the -town was dear—as university towns -always are!—the price of living was exceptionally -high owing to a hard winter, -a siege, a failure of crops, or an unusual -number of scholars; the last messenger -had been robbed or had absconded with -the money; the son could borrow no more -of his fellows or of the Jews; and so on. -The student’s woes are depicted in moving -language, with many appeals to -paternal vanity and affection. At Bologna -we hear of the terrible mud through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span> -which the youth must beg his way from -door to door, crying, “O good masters,” -and coming home empty-handed. In an -Austrian formulary a scholar writes from -the lowest depths of prison, where the -bread is hard and moldy, the drink water -mixed with tears, the darkness so dense -that it can actually be felt. Another lies -on straw with no covering, goes without -shoes or shirt, and eats he will not say what—a -tale designed to be addressed to a -sister and to bring in response a hundred -<i>sous tournois</i>, two pairs of sheets, and -ten ells of fine cloth, all sent without her -husband’s knowledge. “We have made -little glosses, we owe money,” is the terse -summary of two students at Chartres.</p> - -<p>To such requests the proper answer -was, of course, an affectionate letter, -commending the young man’s industry -and studious habits and remitting the desired -amount. Sometimes the student -is cautioned to moderate his expenses—he -might have got on longer with what he -had, he should remember the needs of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span> -sisters, he ought to be supporting his -parents instead of trying to extort -money from them, etc. One father—who -quotes Horace!—excuses himself -because of the failure of his vineyards. It -often happened, too, that the father or -uncle has heard bad reports of the student, -who must then be prepared to deny -indignantly all such aspersions as the -unfounded fabrications of his enemies. -Here is an example of paternal reproof -taken from an interesting collection relating -to Franche-Comté:</p> - -<p>“To his son G. residing at Orleans P. -of Besançon sends greetings with paternal -zeal. It is written, ‘He also that is -slothful in his work is brother to him that -is a great waster.’ I have recently discovered -that you live dissolutely and -slothfully, preferring license to restraint -and play to work and strumming a guitar -while the others are at their studies, -whence it happens that you have read but -one volume of law while your more industrious -companions have read several.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span> -Wherefore I have decided to exhort you -herewith to repent utterly of your dissolute -and careless ways, that you may no -longer be called a waster and your shame -may be turned to good repute.”</p> - -<p>In the models of Ponce de Provence -we find a teacher writing to a student’s -father that while the young man is doing -well in his studies, he is just a trifle wild -and would be helped by judicious admonition. -Naturally the master does not -wish it known that the information came -through him, so the father writes his son:</p> - -<p>“I have learned—not from your -master, although he ought not to hide -such things from me, but from a certain -trustworthy source—that you do not -study in your room or act in the schools -as a good student should, but play and -wander about, disobedient to your master -and indulging in sport and in certain -other dishonorable practices which I do -not now care to explain by letter.” Then -follow the customary exhortations to -reform.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span>Two boys at Orleans thus describe -their arrival at this centre of learning:</p> - -<p>“To their dear and respected parents -M. Martre, knight, and M. his wife, M. -and S. their sons send greeting and filial -obedience. This is to inform you that, by -divine mercy, we are living in good health -in the city of Orleans and are devoting -ourselves wholly to study, mindful of the -words of Cato, ‘To know anything is -praiseworthy.’ We occupy a good dwelling, -next door but one to the schools and -market-place, so that we can go to school -every day without wetting our feet. We -have also good companions in the house -with us, well advanced in their studies -and of excellent habits—an advantage -which we well appreciate, for as the -Psalmist says, ‘With an upright man -thou wilt show thyself upright.’”</p> - -<p>Such youths were slow to quit academic -life. Again and again they ask permission -to have their term of study extended; -war might break out, parents or brothers -die, an inheritance have to be divided,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span> -but the student pleads always for delay. -He desires to “serve longer in the camp -of Pallas;” in any event he cannot leave -before Easter, as his masters have just -begun important courses of lectures. A -scholar is called home from Siena to -marry a lady of many attractions; he answers -that he deems it foolish to desert -the cause of learning for the sake of a -woman, “for one may always get a wife, -but science once lost can never be recovered.”</p> - -<p>The time to leave, however, must come -at last, and then the great problem is -money for the expenses of commencement, -or, as it was then called, inception. -Thus a student at Paris asks a friend to -explain to his father, “since the simplicity -of the lay mind does not understand such -things,” how at length after much study -nothing but lack of money for the inception -banquet stands in the way of his -graduation. From Orleans D. Boterel -writes to his dear relatives at Tours that -he is laboring over his last volume of law<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span> -and on its completion will be able to pass -to his licentiate provided they send him -a hundred <i>livres</i> for the necessary expenses. -An account of the inception at -Bologna was quoted in the preceding -chapter.<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Unlike the student letters, which range -over the whole of the later Middle Ages, -mediaeval student poetry, or rather the -best of it, is limited to a comparatively -short period comprised roughly within the -years 1125 and 1225, and is closely connected -with the classical phase of the -twelfth-century renaissance. It is largely -the work of the wandering clerks of the -period—students, ex-students, professors -even—moving from town to town -in search of learning and still more of adventure, -nominally clerks but leading -often very unclerical lives. “Far from -their homes,” says Symonds, “without -responsibilities, light of purse and light of -heart, careless and pleasure-seeking, they<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span> -ran a free, disreputable course.” “They -are wont,” writes a monk of the twelfth -century, “to roam about the world and -visit all its cities, till much learning makes -them mad; for in Paris they seek liberal -arts, in Orleans classics, at Salerno medicine, -at Toledo magic, but nowhere manners -and morals.” Their chief habitat, -however, was northern France, the center -of the new literary renaissance.</p> - -<p>Possibly from some obscure allusion to -Goliath the Philistine, these wandering -clerks took the name Goliardi and their -verse is generally known as Goliardic poetry. -This literature is for the most -part anonymous, though recent research -has individualized certain writers of the -group, notably a Master Hugh, canon of -Orleans, ca. 1142, styled the Primate, and -the so-called Archpoet. The Primate, -mordant, diabolically clever, thoroughly -disreputable, became famous for generations -as “an admirable improviser, who if -he had but turned his heart to the love of -God would have had a great place in divine<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[113]</span> -letters and have proved most useful -to God’s church.” The Archpoet is found -chiefly in Italy from 1161 to 1165, going -“on his own” in spring and summer but -when autumn comes on turning to beg -shirt and cloak from his patron, the archbishop -of Cologne. Ordered to compose -an epic for the emperor in a week, he replies -he cannot write on an empty stomach—the -quality of his verse depends on the -quality of his wine:</p> - -<p class="center">Tales versus facio quale vinum bibo.</p> - -<p>Good wine he must at times have found, -for he composed the masterpiece of the -whole school, the Confession of a Goliard, -that unforgettable description of the -burning temptations of Pavia which contains -the famous glorification of the joys -of the tavern:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">In the public house to die</div> -<div class="indent">Is my resolution;</div> -<div class="verse">Let wine to my lips be nigh</div> -<div class="indent">At life’s dissolution;</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[114]</span> -<div class="verse">That will make the angels cry,</div> -<div class="indent">With glad elocution,</div> -<div class="verse">“Grant this toper, God on high,</div> -<div class="indent">Grace and absolution!”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Though written in Latin, the Goliardic -verse has abandoned the ancient metrical -system for the rhyme and accent of modern -poetry, but even the best of modern -versions, such as those of John Addington -Symonds, from which I am quoting, fail -to render the swing, the lilt, the rhythmical -flow of the original. Its authors -are familiar with classical mythology and -especially with the writings of Ovid, -whose precepts, copied even in severe -Cluny, were freely followed. Most of -all is this poetry classical in its frankly -pagan view of life. Its gods are Venus -and Bacchus, also Decius, the god of dice. -Love and wine and spring, life on the -open road and under the blue sky, these -are the common subjects; the spirit is -that of an intense delight in the world that -is, a joy in mere living, such as one finds<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[115]</span> -in the Greek and Roman poets or in that -sonorous song of a later age which the -academic world still cherishes,</p> - -<p class="center">Gaudeamus igitur iuvenes dum sumus.</p> - -<p>In general the Goliardic poetry is of an -impersonal sort, giving us few details -from any particular place, but reflecting -the gayer, more jovial, less reputable side -of the life of mediaeval clerks. The worshipful -order of vagrants is described, -open to men of every condition and every -clime, with its rules which are no rules, -late-risers, gamesters, roysterers, proud -that none of its members has more than -one coat to his back, begging their way -from town to town with requests for -money which sound like students’ letters -in verse:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I, a wandering scholar lad,</div> -<div class="indent">Born for toil and sadness,</div> -<div class="verse">Oftentimes am driven by</div> -<div class="indent">Poverty to madness.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[116]</span> - - -<div class="verse">Literature and knowledge I</div> -<div class="indent">Fain would still be earning,</div> -<div class="verse">Were it not that want of pelf</div> -<div class="indent">Makes me cease from learning.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">These torn clothes that cover me</div> -<div class="indent">Are too thin and rotten;</div> -<div class="verse">Oft I have to suffer cold,</div> -<div class="indent">By the warmth forgotten.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Scarce I can attend at church,</div> -<div class="indent">Sing God’s praises duly;</div> -<div class="verse">Mass and vespers both I miss,</div> -<div class="indent">Though I love them truly.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh, thou pride of N——,</div> -<div class="indent">By thy worth I pray thee</div> -<div class="verse">Give the suppliant help in need,</div> -<div class="indent">Heaven will sure repay thee.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Take a mind unto thee now</div> -<div class="indent">Like unto St. Martin;</div> -<div class="verse">Clothe the pilgrim’s nakedness,</div> -<div class="indent">Wish him well at parting.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">So may God translate your soul</div> -<div class="indent">Into peace eternal,</div> -<div class="verse">And the bliss of saints be yours</div> -<div class="indent">In His realm supernal.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[117]</span>The brethren greet each other at wayside -taverns with songs like this:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">We in our wandering,</div> -<div class="verse">Blithesome and squandering,</div> -<div class="indent">Tara, tantara, teino!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Eat to satiety,</div> -<div class="verse">Drink with propriety;</div> -<div class="indent">Tara, tantara, teino!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Laugh till our sides we split,</div> -<div class="verse">Rags on our hides we fit;</div> -<div class="indent">Tara, tantara, teino!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Jesting eternally,</div> -<div class="verse">Quaffing infernally:</div> -<div class="indent">Tara, tantara, teino!</div> -<div class="indent9">etc.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The assembled topers are described in -another poem:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Some are gaming, some are drinking,</div> -<div class="verse">Some are living without thinking;</div> -<div class="verse">And of those who make the racket,</div> -<div class="verse">Some are stripped of coat and jacket;</div> -<div class="verse">Some get clothes of finer feather,</div> -<div class="verse">Some are cleaned out altogether;</div> -<div class="verse">No one there dreads death’s invasion,</div> -<div class="verse">But all drink in emulation.</div> -</div></div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[118]</span>Then they sacrilegiously drink once for -all prisoners and captives, three times for -the living, a fourth time for the whole -body of Christians, a fifth for those departed -in the faith, and so on to the thirteenth -for those who travel by land or -water, and a final and unlimited potation -for king and Pope. Such poetry is plainly -the expression of a ‘wet’ age.</p> - -<p>Often bibulous and erotic, the Goliardic -verse contains a large amount of -parody and satire. Appealing to a public -familiar with scripture and liturgy, its -authors parody anything—the Bible, -hymns to the Virgin, the canon of the -mass, as in the “Drinkers’ Mass” and -the “Office for Gamblers.” One of the -best-known pieces is a satire on the Papacy -under the caption of “The Gospel -according to Mark-s of silver.” This is -only one of many bitter attacks on Rome, -while the pride, hardness, and greed of the -higher clergy are portrayed in “Golias -the Bishop.” The point of view in general -is that of the lower clergy, especially<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span> -the looser, wandering, undisciplined element -which frequented the schools and the -roads, the <i>jongleurs</i> of the clerical world, -familiar subjects of ecclesiastical legislation -since the ninth century.</p> - -<p>Poetry of this sort is so contrary to -conventional conceptions of the Middle -Ages that some writers have denied its -mediaeval character. “It is,” says one, -“mediaeval only in the chronological -sense,” while others find in it close affinities -with the spirit of the Renaissance or -of the Reformation. It would be more -consonant with the spirit of history to -enlarge our ideas of the Middle Ages so -as to correspond to the facts of mediaeval -life. The Goliardi were neither humanists -before the Renaissance nor reformers -before the Reformation; they were simply -men of the Middle Ages who wrote for -their own time. If the writings of these -northern and chiefly French clerks seem -to anticipate the Italian Renaissance, it -may be that the Renaissance began earlier -and was less specifically Italian than has<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[120]</span> -been supposed. If the authors are more -secular, even more earthy, than we should -expect clerks to be, we must learn to expect -something different. In lyric poetry, -as in the epic and the drama, we are now -learning more of the close interpenetration -of the lay and ecclesiastical worlds, -no longer separated by the air-tight partitions -which the imagination of a later day -interposed. And whether their spirit was -lay or ecclesiastical, the Goliardi were certainly -human; they saw and felt life -keenly, and they wrote of what they knew.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It is time to redress the balance with a -word about a less obtrusive element, the -good student. “The life of the virtuous -student,” says Dean Rashdall, “has no -annals,”<a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> and in all ages he has been less -conspicuous than his more dashing fellows. -Thus the ideal scholar of the sermons -is a bit colorless but obedient, respectful, -eager to learn, assiduous at -lectures, and bold in debate, pondering his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[121]</span> -lessons even during his evening promenades -by the river. The ideal student of -the manuals is he who practices their precepts. -The typical student of the letters -has already described himself as devoted -wholly to study, though somewhat short -of money. The good student of the poems—there -is no such person! Student -poetry was “not all bacchic or erotic or -profane,”<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> but much of it was, and we -must not look here for the more serious -side of academic life. Jean de Hauteville’s -account of the poor and industrious -scholar is representative of a large class of -students but not of a large body of poetry. -The good student’s occupations are best -reflected in the course of study, his assiduity -best seen in his note-books and disputations. -The documents which concern -the educational side of the university are -also a source for student life! It has been -observed that the alumni reunions of our -own day are often more prolific in recollections -of student escapades than of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[122]</span> -the daily performance of the allotted -task. The studious lad of today never -breaks into the headlines as such, and -no one has seen fit to produce a play -or a film “featuring the good student.” -Yet everyone familiar with contemporary -universities knows that the serious -student exists in large numbers, -and it has been shown conclusively that -the distinction he there achieves reflects -itself in his later life. So it was in the -Middle Ages. The law students of Bologna -insisted on their money’s worth of -teaching from their professors. The examinations -described by Robert de Sorbon -required serious preparation. Not -only was the vocational motive a strong -incentive to study in the mediaeval university, -but there was much enthusiasm -for knowledge and much discussion of intellectual -subjects. The greater universities, -at least, were intellectually very -much alive, with something of that ‘religion -of learning’ which had earlier -called Abelard’s pupils into the wilderness,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[123]</span> -there to build themselves huts that -they might feed upon his words. The -books of the age were in large measure -written by its professors, and the students -had the advantage of seeing them in the -making and thus drinking of learning -at its fountain-head. Then as now, the -moral quality of a university depended -on the intensity and seriousness of its -intellectual life.</p> - -<p>If we consider the body of student literature -as a whole, its most striking, and -its most disappointing, characteristic is -its lack of individuality. The <i>Manuale -Scholarium</i> is written for the use of all -scholars who propose to attend universities -of students. The letters are made -as general as possible in order to fit the -need of any student who wants money, -clothes, or books. Even the poems, where -we have some right to expect personal expression -of feeling, have the generic character -of most mediaeval poetry; they are -for the most part the voice of a class, not -of individuals.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[124]</span>At the same time it must be remembered -that this characteristic of the student -productions, if it robs them of something -of their interest, increases their -historical value. The historian deals -with the general rather than the particular, -and his knowledge must be -built up by a painful collection and -comparison of individual facts, which -are often too few or too unlike to -admit of sound generalization. In the -case of these student records, however, -that labor has already been performed -for him; in the form in which they -come down to us they have lost, at the -hands of the students themselves, what -is local and peculiar and exceptional, and -have become, what in view of the nature -of our information no historian could -hope to make them, the generalized experience -of centuries of student life.</p> - -<p>It is this broadly human quality that -gives the productions of the mediaeval -student a special interest for the world of -today. In substance, though not in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[125]</span> -form, many of them are almost as representative -of modern Harvard or Yale as -of mediaeval Oxford or Paris. The -Latin dialogue and disputation, the mud -of Bologna, and the money-changers of -the Grand-Pont, belong plainly in the -Middle Ages and not in our time; but -money and clothing, rooms, teachers, and -books, good cheer and good fellowship, -have been subjects of interest at all times -and all places. A professor of history -once said that the greatest difficulty of -historical teaching lay in convincing -pupils that the events of the past did not -all happen in the moon. The Middle -Ages are very far away, farther from us -in some respects than is classical antiquity, -and it is very hard to realize that -men and women, then and now, are after -all much the same human beings. We -need constantly to be reminded that the -fundamental factors in man’s development -remain much the same from age to -age and must so remain as long as human -nature and physical environment continue<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[126]</span> -what they have been. In his relations to -life and learning the mediaeval student -resembled his modern successor far more -than is often supposed. If his environment -was different, his problems were -much the same; if his morals were perhaps -worse, his ambition was as active, -his rivalries as intense, his desire for learning -quite as keen. And for him as for -us, intellectual achievement meant membership -in that city of letters not made -with hands, “the ancient and universal -company of scholars.”</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[127]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE</h2> -</div> - - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p>The standard work on mediaeval universities -is Hastings Rashdall, <i>The Universities of Europe -in the Middle Ages</i> (Oxford, 1895; new -edition in preparation), to which my indebtedness -will be apparent throughout. The later -literature can be most easily found in L. J. -Paetow, <i>Guide to the Study of Mediaeval History</i> -(Berkeley, 1917). Important materials -are conveniently accessible in translation in -D. C. Munro, <i>The Mediaeval Student</i> (Philadelphia, -1895); and A. O. Norton, <i>Readings -in the History of Education: Mediaeval Universities</i> -(Cambridge, Mass., 1909). Bologna -now has a cartulary and a special series of -<i>Studî e Memorie</i> (both since 1907); while the -municipal history of the early period has been -studied by A. Hessel, <i>Geschichte der Stadt Bologna -von 1116 bis 1280</i> (Berlin, 1910). Light -has recently been thrown on Salerno by the -studies of Giacosa and Sudhoff and the dissertations -of Sudhoff’s pupils; its most popular -product, <i>The School of Salernum</i>, can be read<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[128]</span> -in the quaint English version of Sir John Harrington, -recently reprinted (London, 1922) -with a good note by F. H. Garrison and a less -valuable preface by Francis R. Packard. -Paris still lacks a modern historian; Mullinger -is still the standard work on Cambridge; while -Oxford can best be studied in Rashdall, supplemented, -as in the case of Cambridge, by the -histories of the several colleges.</p> - - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p>The most useful general work on the content -of mediaeval learning is Henry Osborn Taylor, -<i>The Mediaeval Mind</i> (third edition, New York, -1919). This may be supplemented by R. L. -Poole, <i>Illustrations of the History of Mediaeval -Thought and Learning</i> (second edition, -London, 1920); M. Grabmann, <i>Geschichte der -scholastischen Methode</i> (Freiburg, 1909-11); -Sir J. E. Sandys, <i>History of Classical Scholarship</i>, -I (third edition, Cambridge, 1921); Lynn -Thorndike, <i>History of Magic and Experimental -Science</i> (New York, 1923); Pierre Duhem, -<i>Le système du monde de Platon à Copernic</i>, II-V -(Paris, 1914-17); Charles H. Haskins, -<i>Studies in the History of Mediaeval Science</i> (in -press, Harvard University Press); the standard -histories of philosophy, mathematics, law,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[129]</span> -and medicine; and the more special literature -in Paetow’s <i>Guide</i>, including his own study of -the <i>Arts Course</i> (Urbana, 1910) and his edition -of the <i>Battle of the Seven Arts</i> (Berkeley, -1914). For a sample of Abelard’s <i>Sic et Non</i>, -see Norton, <i>Readings</i>, pp. 20-25. Abelard’s -method can be followed further in the logical -writings edited for the first time by B. Geyer -in Baeumker’s <i>Beiträge zur Geschichte der -Philosophie des Mittelalters</i>, XXI (Münster, -1919 ff.). The best account of the class-rooms -of a mediaeval university is F. Cavazza, <i>Le -scuole dell’antico studio bolognese</i> (Milan, -1896). Robert de Sorbon’s <i>De conscientia</i> is -edited by Chambon (Paris, 1903).</p> - - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p>Brief sketches of student life will be found -in the last chapter of Rashdall and in the little -volume of R. S. Rait, <i>Life in the Mediaeval -University</i> (Cambridge, 1912). In the text -I have drawn freely from an article of my own -on student letters (<i>American Historical Review</i>, -III, pp. 203-229) and from one on the -Paris sermons (<i>ib.</i>, X, pp. 1-27). John of -Garlande’s <i>Dictionary</i> will be found most conveniently -in T. Wright, <i>A Volume of Vocabularies</i> -(London, 1882), pp. 120-138; he also<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[130]</span> -wrote a <i>Morale Scolarium</i> of which Paetow is -preparing an edition. The <i>Manuale Scholarium</i> -has been translated and annotated by R. -F. Seybolt (Harvard University Press, 1921). -<i>Statuta vel Precepta Scolarium</i> have been -edited by M. Weingart (Metten, 1894) and by -P. Bahlmann in <i>Mitteilungen der Gesellschaft -für deutsche Erziehungs- und Schulgeschichte</i>, -III, pp. 129-145 (1893). The latest discussion -of mediaeval manuals of manners -is by S. Glixelli, in <i>Romania</i>, XLVII, -pp. 1-40 (1921). The best single collection of -Goliardic verse is J. A. Schmeller, <i>Carmina -Burana</i> (Breslau, 1894); the best translations -are those of J. A. Symonds, <i>Wine, Women, and -Song</i>. Two poets have since been individualized, -the Primate by Léopold Delisle and W. -Meyer, the Archpoet by B. Schmeidler and M. -Manitius. For an introduction to the vast literature -of Goliardic poetry, see Paetow’s -<i>Guide</i>, pp. 449 f.; P. S. Allen, in <i>Modern Philology</i>, -V, VI; and H. Süssmilch, <i>Lateinische -Vagantenpoesie</i> (Leipzig, 1917). On the -origin of the word ‘Goliardi,’ see James Westfall -Thompson, in the <i>Studies in Philology</i>, -published by the University of North Carolina, -XX, pp. 83-98 (1923).</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[131]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">INDEX</h2> -</div> - - - -<p> -Abelard, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>-<a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Albertus Magnus, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Alcuin, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Alfred, King, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Allen, P. S., <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Anselm, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Arabic learning, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Archpoet, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>-<a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Aristotle, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>-<a href="#Page_74">74</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Arnold, Matthew, quoted, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Arts, seven, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-<a href="#Page_46">46</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Averroës, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Avicenna, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Bede, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Berlin, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Bernard of Chartres, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Besançon, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Bible, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Boethius, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Bologna, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>-<a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>-<a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>-<a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Bonaventura, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Books, control of, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>-<a href="#Page_53">53</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Brown University, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Bryce, James, quoted, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Buoncompagni, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Cambridge, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Cathedral schools, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>-<a href="#Page_21">21</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Cavazza, F., <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Chancellor, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-<a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Chartres, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Chaucer, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Classics, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>-<a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>-<a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Class-rooms, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Coimbra, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Colleges, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>-<a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>-<a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<i>Corpus Juris Civilis</i>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>-<a href="#Page_61">61</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Cracow, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Cujas, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Dante, quoted, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Degrees, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Denifle, H., <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Dominicans, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Donatus, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Duhem, P., <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Edinburgh, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Erfurt, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Étienne de Tournay, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Euclid, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Examinations, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-<a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[132]</span> -Franciscans, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Frederick Barbarossa, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Frederick II, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Freedom, academic, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>-<a href="#Page_78">78</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Galen, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Galileo, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Gerbert, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Germany, universities and schools of, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>-<a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>-<a href="#Page_101">101</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Gilbert de la Porrée, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Gilds, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>-<a href="#Page_17">17</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Glixelli, S., <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Glossators, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>-<a href="#Page_51">51</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Goliardi, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>-<a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Grabmann, M., <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Gratian, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Gregory IX, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Haskins, C. H., <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Heidelberg, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>-<a href="#Page_95">95</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Henri d’Andeli, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Hessel, A., <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Hildebert, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Hippocrates, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Inception, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Irnerius, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Jacques de Vitry, quoted, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>.<br /> -<br /> -John of Brescain, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>.<br /> -<br /> -John of Garlande, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>-<a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -John of Hauteville, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>.<br /> -<br /> -John of Salisbury, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>-<a href="#Page_57">57</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Laon, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Latin, use of, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>-<a href="#Page_102">102</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Law, Canon, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Law, Roman, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>-<a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>-<a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>-<a href="#Page_61">61</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Leipzig, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Letters, student, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>-<a href="#Page_111">111</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Libraries, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>-<a href="#Page_53">53</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Liège, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Logic, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>-<a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>.<br /> -<br /> -London, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Lorenzo of Aquileia, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Louvain, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Lowell, J. R., quoted, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Maitland, F. W., quoted, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Manchester, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<i>Manuale Scholarium</i>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>-<a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Manuals of manners, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Martianus Capella, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Medicine, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>-<a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Montpellier, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Munro, D. C., <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Naples, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Nations, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>-<a href="#Page_26">26</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Nigel Wireker, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Nominalism and realism, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Norton, A. O., <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[133]</span> -Odofredus, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>-<a href="#Page_61">61</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Orleans, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>-<a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>-<a href="#Page_112">112</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Oxford, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>-<a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Padua, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Paetow, L. J., <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Palermo, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Paris, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>-<a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>-<a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>-<a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-<a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>-<a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>-<a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>-<a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Parody, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Pavia, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Pepo, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Peter Lombard, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Philip Augustus, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Poetry, student, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>-<a href="#Page_120">120</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Ponce of Provence, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Poole, R. L., <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Prague, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Primate, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Priscian, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Professors, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>-<a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>-<a href="#Page_78">78</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Ptolemy, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Quadrivium, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Rait, R. S., <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Rashdall, H., <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>;<br /> -<span class="gap">quoted, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</span><br /> -<br /> -Raymond, Master, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Renaissance, of twelfth century, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>-<a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Rheims, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Rhetoric, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>-<a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Richer, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Robert de Sorbon, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-<a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Ruprecht, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Rutebeuf, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Salamanca, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Salerno, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Sandys, J. E., <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Savigny, F. K. von, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Schools, cathedral, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>-<a href="#Page_21">21</a>;<br /> -<span class="gap">grammar, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>-<a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</span><br /> -<br /> -Sermons, Paris, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>-<a href="#Page_87">87</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Socrates, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Sorbonne, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Spain, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Strasbourg, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Students, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>-<a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>-<a href="#Page_126">126</a>;<br /> -<span class="gap">students, letters by, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>-<a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="gap">students, manuals for, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>-<a href="#Page_102">102</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="gap">students, poems concerning, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>-<a href="#Page_120">120</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="gap">students, sermons concerning, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>-<a href="#Page_87">87</a>.</span><br /> -<br /> -Sudhoff, K., <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Süssmilch, H., <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Symonds, J. A., <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Taylor, H. O., <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Textbooks, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-<a href="#Page_53">53</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Theodosius II, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Theology, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>-<a href="#Page_78">78</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Thomas Aquinas, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.<br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[134]</span> -Thompson. J. W., <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Thorndike, L., <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Toledo, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Toulouse, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Tours, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Trivium, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -United States, university tradition in, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>-<a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Universities, characterized and defined, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>;<br /> -<span class="gap">number of, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="gap">origin of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>-<a href="#Page_29">29</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="gap">studies of, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-<a href="#Page_51">51</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="gap">teaching in, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>-<a href="#Page_78">78</a>;</span><br /> -<span class="gap">tradition of, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>-<a href="#Page_36">36</a>.</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Vienna, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -William of Conches, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>.<br /> -</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="FOOTNOTES">FOOTNOTES:</h2> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> As translated by Munro, <i>The Mediaeval -Student</i>, p. 19.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[2]</a> Translated in E. F. Henderson, <i>Select Historical -Documents of the Middle Ages</i>, pp. 262-266.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[3]</a> Table in Rashdall, <i>Universities</i>, I, p. xxviii; -map at beginning of Vol. II and in Shepherd, <i>Historical -Atlas</i> (New York, 1911), p. 100.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[4]</a> E. G. Browne, <i>Arabian Medicine</i> (1921), p. -93.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[5]</a> <i>Universities</i>, I, pp. 254-255.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[6]</a></p> - -<p>Sic heredes Gratiani<br /> -Student fieri decani,<br /> -Abbates, pontifices.</p> - - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[7]</a> Richer, I, cc. 45-54; extracts translated -in Taylor, <i>Mediaeval Mind</i> (1919), I, pp. -289-293.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[8]</a> Translated in R. L. Poole, <i>Illustrations of the -History of Mediaeval Thought</i>, pp. 203-212; -A. O. Norton, <i>Readings in the History of Education</i>, -pp. 28-34. What we know of these masters -is analyzed by Poole in the <i>English Historical Review</i>, -xxxv, pp. 321-342 (1920).</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[9]</a> Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, MS. Lat. 4489, -f. 102; Savigny, <i>Geschichte des römischen -Rechts im Mittelalter</i> (1834), III, pp. 264, -541, 553; cf. Rashdall, I, p. 219.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[10]</a> Alzog, <i>Church History</i> (1876), II, p. 733.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[11]</a> MS. Lat. n. a. 619, ff. 28-35.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[12]</a> Supra, p. 67.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">[13]</a> <i>Universities</i>, II, p. 692.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">[14]</a> <i>Ib.</i>, II, p. 686, note.</p> - -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="transnote"> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> -</div> - - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> - -<p>The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber and is entered into the public domain.</p> -</div> - -<pre style='margin-top:6em'> -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISE OF UNIVERSITIES *** - -This file should be named 63574-h.htm or 63574-h.zip - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/7/63574/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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