Medieval rhetoric and poetic to 1400 : $b Interpreted from representative works — Baldwin, Charles Sears

MEDIEVAL RHETORIC AND POETIC

MEDIEVAL
RHETORIC AND POETIC
(to 1400)

INTERPRETED FROM REPRESENTATIVE
WORKS

BY
CHARLES SEARS BALDWIN
PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC IN COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

Gloucester, Mass.
PETER SMITH
1959

_Reprinted, 1959
by permission of_
MARSHALL W. BALDWIN

SANCTO THOMÆ AQVINATI
PHILOSOPHO POETÆ
ARTEM ILLIVS SÆCVLI
RHETORICAM ATQVE POETICAM
REDINTEGRATAM
COMMENDAT INTERPRES

PREFACE

The rhetoric and the poetic of any age, as the complementary theories of
composition, are indicative of its habits in education and in literature.
Thus their medieval history concerns all students of the middle age. For
consecutive interpretation in this single aspect both supplements the
more comprehensive surveys and adds significance to many special studies.
Whether for initiation, for review, or for suggestions of further
inquiry, medieval rhetoric and poetic offer a directly literary guide.

As in my preceding volume, _Ancient rhetoric and poetic_, conciseness has
been sought by proportion. Space is given to those salient tendencies
which mark the literary course. Minor relations and collateral studies,
indicated no less carefully, are relegated to the notes, but included
in the index. Detailing the actual theory and the actual practise of
composition, often for the first time, I have tried no less to show their
bearing, to make medieval rhetoric and poetic available by interpreting
them in historical sequence. Thus are interpreted the tasks of the
schools, the poetic developments of and from the hymns, the habits of
prose rhythm, the encroachment of logic upon rhetoric and of rhetoric
upon poetic, the progress of verse narrative.

Ancient theory being eminent in a few cardinal texts long recognized as
representative, the former volume subordinates history to exposition.
Medieval theory, on the other hand, being best grasped as development
from an inheritance, the plan of the present volume is historical.
Though each aims at sufficiency within itself, the second refers again
and again to the first, and the two volumes together offer a history
down to 1400. Throughout this history rhetoric and poetic are seen to be
indeed complementary. Where they were distinguished, as where they were
confused, they are most fruitfully studied side by side. Each illuminates
the other because their relations are always significant historically.

Their medieval history must begin with those particular influences from
antiquity which were transmitted through the last schools of the Roman
Empire, especially through the schools of Gaul. It is a Latin history;
for contact with Greek was soon lost and was not widely reëstablished
till the Renaissance. But in the imperial centuries before the separation
East and West, Greek and Latin, agreed so far in literary ideals and
practise that the whole Mediterranean basin had a substantially common
system of education through rhetoric. An inert survival of what is known
historically as the second sophistic, this was sharply challenged by St.
Augustine’s reversion through Cicero to the elder tradition for authority
to direct the real oratory of preaching. Nevertheless the schools of Gaul
continued the sophistic tradition beyond the fall of Rome.

Nor were the large philosophy of rhetoric in Cicero’s _De oratore_, the
great survey of Quintilian, the later medieval guides. The prevalent
textbooks were Cicero’s youthful digest _De inventione_ and a second
book universally attributed to him, the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_. Though
the survival of these minor works may be due partly to the accidents
of manuscripts, their persistence has other causes. _De inventione_
reduces to summary what the middle age taught least, those counsels
of preparation and ordering which ancient teaching had progressively
adjusted to oral discourse, and for which the earlier middle age had less
opportunity. The _Rhetorica ad Herennium_, comparatively summary also
as to analysis and sequence, is devoted largely to style, and reduces
stylistic ornament to a list so conveniently specific that medieval
schools made it a ritual. Though the greater Cicero and Quintilian were
known to such original minds as Gerbert in the tenth century and John
of Salisbury in the twelfth, they were hardly available for the usual
course of teaching. Medieval rhetoric was generally a lore of style.
Here _rhetorica_ tended to coincide with that school study of Latin
poetry which was a recognized function of _grammatica_. The constant
quotation of Horace’s “Ars poetica” is one of the signs of the merging of
poetic with rhetoric. The conventional doctrine from both was largely of
descriptive dilation. Among the effects of this teaching which outlast
schooling and reach beyond Latin are certain conventions of vernacular
poetry. Conversely, poetic advance in the vernaculars is seen in breaking
away not only from school rhetoric, but from rhetoric altogether.

The main medieval fields proper to rhetoric were sermons and letters.
The former, exploring their rhetoric in the earlier centuries, continued
to feel the example, perhaps more than the precept, of St. Augustine.
Even the Dominicans had no need to seek a new lore of oral composition.
What is distinctive in sermon composition of the twelfth century is
oftener poetic than rhetoric. Letters, on the other hand, are at once a
legitimate application of ancient rhetoric and a distinctively medieval
development. They practically comprehend the medieval rhetoric of written
prose. Though ordinary routine was largely content, as in any other time,
with correctness, and therefore with recipe and formulary, serious study
of both composition and style is evident in the better manuals, and
conspicuous in those achievements which are part of medieval literature.

The teaching of _poetica_, from of old a part of _grammatica_, included
extensive practise in Latin verse. This had early to take account of that
dominance of stress which had gradually supplanted the ancient control
by time. The characteristic medieval achievements in Latin lyric are
the hymns. Radiating into other songs, even into humorous and satirical
verse, the hymns were the common lyric fund of medieval Latin. As early
as St. Ambrose they had created a new Latin poetry; and the beauty of
their various art was not exhausted with Adam of St. Victor. Meantime
they opened to the vernaculars those poetic possibilities of stanza
which arise from the development of rime. Medieval poetic theory, on
the contrary, went but a little way. Mainly pedagogical formulation, it
lagged far behind the most characteristic medieval poetic advance, which
was in verse narrative. Here is a sharp contrast with the Renaissance.
The fifteenth century opens a long series of critical inquiries into
poetic. The middle age, merging poetic with rhetoric in the schoolroom,
was little concerned to make it tally with vernacular achievement. With
the death in 1400 of Chaucer, whose criticism exposed this lack, the
poetic of medieval narrative reaches its term.

I owe to the unstinted courtesy and scholarly interest of a trustee
of Barnard College, Mr. George A. Plimpton, the privilege of studying
at leisure his manuscript of one of the most important Bolognese
_dictamina_, the thirteenth-century _Candelabrum_. Far better than
Boncompagno or Thomas of Capua, better even than Conrad, this unprinted
manual exhibits _dictamen_ in both scope and method. My other debts are
too manifold to rehearse. The bibliographical notes, if they recorded the
reading of years, would defeat their proper object of serving further
study. Therefore they have been made, as in the former volume, at once
specific and strictly selective, applied to each chapter separately,
and further indicated both in the index and on a page of recurring
abbreviations after the table of contents.

As I record gratefully my obligation for generous help with the proofs to
my colleagues Professors Ayres, Clark, Krapp, McCrea, Moore, Perry, and
Van Hook, and to my old friend, the Jesuit scholar Dr. Donnelly, I see
further in such coöperation great promise for the progress of medieval
studies.

C. S. B.

BARNARD COLLEGE

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

JANUARY, 1928.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE SOPHISTIC TREND IN ANCIENT RHETORIC 1
A. THE TWO HISTORIC CONCEPTIONS OF RHETORIC 2
B. THE SECOND SOPHISTIC 8
1. Philostratus, _Lives of the Sophists_ 8
2. The Character of Sophistic 9
a. virtuosity 9
(1) _declamatio_ 10
(2) improvisation and memory 13
(3) delivery 16
b. dilation 17
(1) ecphrasis 17
c. pattern 20
(1) the elementary exercises of Hermogenes 23
d. elaboration of style 39
(1) literary allusion and archaism 40
(2) decorative imagery 41
(3) balance 42
(4) _clausula_ 48
(5) vehemence 49

II. ST. AUGUSTINE ON PREACHING (_DE DOCTRINA CHRISTIANA_, IV) 51

III. THE LAST ROMAN SCHOOLS AND THE COMPENDS (FIFTH TO SEVENTH
CENTURIES) 74
A. THE SCHOOLS OF GAUL 75
1. Ausonius 75
2. Sidonius Apollinaris 78
3. Textbooks 87
a. _grammatica_ and _dialectica_ 87
b. _rhetorica_ 89
B. THE TRIVIUM IN COMPENDS OF THE SEVEN LIBERAL ARTS 90
1. Martianus Capella 91
2. Cassiodorus 95
3. Isidore 95

IV. POETIC, OLD AND NEW (FIFTH TO SEVENTH CENTURIES) 99
A. CLAUDIAN AND BOETHIUS 100
B. PRUDENTIUS, SEDULIUS, FORTUNATUS 103
C. THE EARLIER LATIN HYMNS 107
1. Iambic 116
2. Trochaic 119
3. Other Measures 121
4. Poetic Conceptions 123

V. THE CAROLINGIANS AND THE TENTH CENTURY 126
A. THE TRIVIUM IN THE GREATER MONASTERIES 127
B. _GRAMMATICA_ 130
1. _Poetica_ 130
2. Hymns 132
a. iambic 132
b. trochaic 134
c. other measures 136
3. Narrative Hexameters and Elegiacs 140
C. _DIALECTICA_ 141
D. _RHETORICA_ 142
E. THE POETIC OF GERMANIC EPIC 145

VI. RHETORIC AND LOGIC IN THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES 150
A. THE TRIVIUM AT CHARTRES, ELEVENTH AND TWELFTH CENTURIES 151
B. THE TRIVIUM IN HUGH OF ST. VICTOR 153
C. THE _METALOGICUS_ OF JOHN OF SALISBURY 156
D. THIRTEENTH-CENTURY SURVEYS 172
1. Alain de Lille, _Anticlaudianus_ 172
2. Vincent de Beauvais, _Speculum doctrinale_ 174
3. St. Bonaventure, _De reductione artium ad theologiam_ 176
4. Brunetto Latini, _Trésor_ 178

VII. LATIN POETIC IN THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES 183
A. _DOCTRINALE_ AND _GRÆCISMUS_ 184
B. _POETRIA_ 185
1. Matthieu de Vendôme, _Ars versificatoria_ 185
2. Geoffroi de Vinsauf, _Poetria nova_ 187
3. Évrard, _Laborintus_ 189
4. Johannes de Garlandia, _Poetria_ 191
5. Common Traits 195
C. HYMNS 197
1. Progress of Rimed Accentual Verse 197
2. Variations in Trochaic Stanza 201
3. Symbolism 203

VIII. _DICTAMEN_ 206
A. THE RHETORIC OF _DICTAMEN_ 213
B. DIGEST OF _CANDELABRUM_ I-V 216
C. _CURSUS_ 223

IX. PREACHING 228
A. VERNACULAR TO THE PEOPLE, LATIN TO THE CLERGY 232
B. COLLECTIONS 233
C. MANUALS 236
D. SYMBOLISM 239
E. COMPOSITION 245
1. Imaginative Method 245
2. Logical Method 247
F. STYLE 250
1. Rhythm 250
2. Balance and Rime 251
3. Refrain 254

X. POETIC ACHIEVEMENT IN VERNACULAR 258
A. LYRIC AND EPIC 258
B. EXPERIMENT AND CONVENTION IN ROMANCE 260
1. Romance in Latin and in Vernacular 260
2. Walter Map and Marie 261
3. Chrétien de Troyes 264
4. Conventional Composition 267
C. THE POETIC COMPOSITION OF THE _DIVINA COMMEDIA_ 269
D. THE HISTORY OF MEDIEVAL VERSE NARRATIVE IN CHAUCER 280
1. Poetic Conventions in the Earlier Poems 281
2. Poetic Innovation in the _Troilus and Criseyde_ 284
3. Criticism of the _Poetriæ_ 289
4. The Poetic of the _Canterbury Tales_ 296

SYNOPTIC INDEX 303

INDEX 307

ABBREVIATIONS RECURRING IN THE NOTES

[The abbreviations used in each chapter will be found with the list of
references below the chapter heading.]

AH Dreves and Blume, _Analecta hymnica medii ævi_,
Leipzig, 1886-1911 (cited by volume and page).

ARP Baldwin (C. S.), _Ancient rhetoric and poetic_, New
York, 1924.

Clerval Clerval (l’Abbé A.), _Les écoles de Chartres au moyen
âge, du Ve au XVIe siècle_, Chartres, 1895.

CSE _Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum_, Vienna.

F Faral (E.), _Les arts poétiques du XIIe et du XIIIe
siècle_, recherches et documents sur la technique
littéraire du moyen âge, Paris, 1924.

Halm Halm (K.), _Rhetores latini minores_, Leipzig, 1863.

Keil Keil (H.), _Grammatici latini_, Leipzig, 1870-1880
(cited by volume and page).

Manacorda Manacorda (G.), _Storia della scuola in Italia_,
volume I, _Il medio evo_, Milan, 1913 (2 parts in
separate volumes).

Manitius Manitius (M.), _Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur
des Mittelalters_, Munich, 1911, 2 vols. (in Von
Mueller’s Handbuch der klassischen Alterthums-Wissenschaft,
IX, ii).

Mearns Mearns (J.), _Early Latin hymnaries_, an index of
hymns in hymnaries before 1100, Cambridge (University
Press), 1913.

MGH _Monumenta Germaniæ historica_ (cited by page of
the appropriate volume).

NE _Notices et extraits des manuscrits de la Bibliothèque
Nationale ..._ (cited by volume, part, and page).

PL _Patrologia latina_ (Migne, cited by volume and column).

CHAPTER I

THE SOPHISTIC TREND IN ANCIENT RHETORIC

REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS

Ameringer Ameringer (T. E.), _The stylistic influence of the second
sophistic on the panegyrical sermons of St. John
Chrysostom_, Washington, 1921 (Catholic University
of America Patristic Studies).

ARP Baldwin (C. S.), _Ancient rhetoric and poetic_, New
York, 1924.

Boulanger Boulanger (A.), _Ælius Aristide et la sophistique dans
la province d’Asie au ii siècle de notre ère_, Paris, 1923.

Burgess Burgess (T. C.), _Epideictic literature_, University of
Chicago Studies in Classical Philology III (1902), 89-251.

Campbell Campbell (J. M.), _The influence of the second sophistic
on the style of the sermons of St. Basil the Great_,
Washington, 1922.

Guignet Guignet (M.), _St. Grégoire de Nazianze, orateur et
épistolier_, Paris, 1911.

Hubbell Hubbell (H. M.), _The influence of Isocrates on Cicero,
Dionysius, and Aristides_, New Haven (Yale dissertation),
1914.

Méridier Méridier (L.), _L’influence de la seconde sophistique
sur l’œuvre de Grégoire de Nysse_, Paris, 1906.

Wright Wright (W. C), _Philostratus and Eunapius, the
lives of the sophists_, with an English translation,
London and New York, Loeb Library, 1922.

A. THE TWO HISTORIC CONCEPTIONS OF RHETORIC

Plato’s distrust of rhetoric is a permanent reminder. It is so
significantly typical that it recurs throughout the history of education,
and must recur. Again and again educational practise has found that
it cannot do without rhetoric; again and again educational theory has
grudgingly inquired what to do with it. For distrust of rhetoric may
be more than the impatience of the philosopher with the orator, of
speculation with ordered presentation, of the quest for truth with
persuasion. This is involved too; for philosophers have often been
impatient of presentation. They have wished to think aloud, or to
question and answer, or merely to analyze for themselves, without being
held to consecutive explanation. Plato himself falls short of discerning
the importance of making truth available and effective for the mass of
men incapable of scientific analysis; and this is the ground of Cicero’s
rejoinder.[1] But Plato’s distrust is more deeply of rhetoric as he heard
it taught. Even in his day Greek rhetoric was largely sophistic, the
rhetoric of personal display and triumph. In the _Gorgias_[2] Socrates
admits the function of a nobler rhetoric, but cannot find it in use. In
the _Protagoras_[3] he asks the vital question, “_About what_ does the
sophist make a man more eloquent?” In the _Phædrus_, which discusses
rhetoric more specifically, his satire is most evidently of sophistic.
To this the ultimate objection is moral. A man should train himself “not
with a view to speaking and acting before the world, but for the sake
of making himself able ... to please the gods.”[4] Plato challenges not
merely the method of the sophists, but their ideal. Since rhetoric has
almost always had some part in education, and since it always ultimately
involves morality, Plato raises a leading question.

The ultimate, the only final answer to Plato’s challenge is the
_Rhetoric_ of Aristotle. This proceeds from a conception not only larger
than the sophistic of Gorgias and Protagoras, but also significantly
divergent in aim. The true theory of rhetoric as the energizing
of knowledge, the bringing of truth to bear upon men,[5] is there
established for all time. Aristotle amply vindicated rhetoric by defining
its place among studies, its necessary correlation with inquiry and with
policy, its permanent function. He settled the question of rhetoric
philosophically. He established its theory. But this theory was oftener
accepted than followed. The sophists had, indeed, been put in their place
more surely by Aristotle than by Plato; but they continued to thrive,
until ancient rhetoric became more and more sophistic.

The conception animating the practise and the teaching of sophistic,
far from being limited to antiquity, is medieval as well, and modern.
Apparently it is permanent. Rhetoric is conceived by Aristotle as the art
of giving effectiveness to truth; it is conceived alike by the earlier
and the later sophists and by their successors as the art of giving
effectiveness to the speaker. The conceptions are not contradictory.
The second may be theoretically included within the first; and actually
Demosthenes may learn something from Isocrates. But to embody them in
educational procedure, to carry out either as the controlling idea of
a course of study, is to discover that sooner or later they become
practically incompatible. Ingenuous youth will be devoted either to
energizing truth or to exploiting itself. There will come a parting of
the ways; for the two conceptions are divergent. What Aristotle discerned
as differentiating is differentiating still. The flaw in sophistic is
moral. It may not impair technical training; but by deviating motive it
tends to impair education.

For Aristotle’s theory is a touchstone. To recall rhetoric to the true
function discerned by him has repeatedly been the object of reform
in teaching. What has intervened to deviate rhetoric and frustrate
its best use has again and again been the preoccupation with giving
effectiveness not to the message, but to the speaker. Ancient sophistic
is thus typical. It is not merely historical; it is historic. The
false conception divined by Plato, and exposed finally by Aristotle’s
demonstration of the true conception, led ancient rhetoric through empty
personal triumphs into an elaborate art of display, devoid, at its worst,
of other motive. As sophistic spread, as its idea of rhetoric became
dominant, ancient education was narrowed;[6] and ancient oratory eddied
in shallows until it found a new course with the new motive of Christian
preaching.

In exorcising the false conception Aristotle removed the false sophistic
emphasis from style. He does not despise, nor even slight, technic. He
finds analysis of sentence rhythms necessary. But his goal in this, as
in his analysis of figures, is beyond the technical means of securing
particular effects. He does not classify figures for reference; he seeks
in both phrase and cadence the function; and he discusses neither until
he has spent some two-thirds of his treatise on the function of rhetoric
as a whole course of study. This he finds philosophically necessary.
Otherwise rhetoric cannot be justified; otherwise, he clearly implies,
it is narrowed and degraded. For him rhetoric is so inextricably moral
that it should never be divorced from subject matter of real significance.

But what subject matter of real significance has oratory when it is
barred from discussion of present policy? Here appears a strong external
cause of the spread of sophistic. The sophistical trend, already marked,
was furthered by the narrowing of public discussion. Of the three
fields[7] of oratory distinguished by Aristotle, deliberative, forensic,
and occasional, the first was restricted by political changes. It faded
with democracy. So later it faded at Rome, and still later in other
realms. Deliberative oratory presupposes free discussion and audiences
that vote. The steady increase of government from above administered by
an appointed official class hastened also the tendency of the second
kind of oratory, forensic, to become technical, the special art of
legal pleading. Thus the only field left free was the third, occasional
oratory, encomium, or panegyric, the commemoration of persons and days,
the address of welcome, the public lecture. A favorite field even in
Plato’s time, it is in any time the freest field for imaginative and
emotional appeal and for personal triumphs. Thus it was early and
assiduously cultivated by the sophists. Though it opens, on the other
hand, the highest reaches of eloquence, though Isocrates is more than
a sophist and Lincoln’s Gettysburg address is as far from sophistic as
possible, still its becoming the main field of Greek oratory gave the
lead to sophistic. In such conditions sophistic could control education;
and its control of education reacted upon the conditions to make a
vicious circle. Oratory and the training for it became preponderantly
an art of display; and the rhetoric finally bequeathed by the ancient
schools was sophistic.

In sum, the sophistic tendency, which may be found in any highly
developed literature, was confirmed in Greek by causes both intrinsic and
extrinsic. Becoming a habit, it became a scheme of education. Against
this Plato represents Socrates in fundamental opposition. Aristotle does
more than oppose it; he establishes constructively a rhetoric whose
persuasion shall be more than personal appeal and personal triumph. But
the rhetoric nobly and philosophically conceived by him did not succeed
in supplanting the tendency seen at its best in Isocrates. The conception
of Isocrates in Philostratus, though inadequate, is not wrong essentially.

The siren which stands on the tomb of Isocrates the sophist—its
pose is that of one singing—testifies to the man’s persuasive
charm, which he combined with the laws and habits of rhetoric.
Balances, antitheses, rimes, though he was not their discoverer
but only the skilful user of what had been discovered
already, he put his mind to, and also to amplitude, rhythm,
sentence-movement, beat. These things prepared the diction of
Demosthenes, who was a pupil, indeed, of Isæus, but a disciple
of Isocrates. Philostratus, _Lives of the Sophists_, I. 17
(Wright’s translation, page 50, modified).

The Isocratean ideal of eloquence, influential even upon its critic
Dionysius of Halicarnassus, even upon so great an orator as Cicero,[8]
became more sophistic in the practise of the schools. In the first
century of our era sophistic had won its place, by the second century
an eminence undisputed till Christian preaching returned to the sound
ancient tradition.

For sophistic is the historic demonstration of what oratory becomes when
it is removed from urgency of subject matter. Seeking some inspiration
for public occasions, it revives over and over again a dead past. Thus
becoming conventionalized in method, it turns from cogency of movement
to the cultivation of style. Cogency presupposes a message. It is
intellectual ordering for persuasion, the means toward making men believe
and act. Style, no longer controlled by such urgencies of subject, tends
toward decoration and virtuosity. A necessary study in any rhetoric, it
had been highly cultivated during Greek democracy; but under monarchy
and Empire it became a preoccupation, almost a monopoly. Sophistic
practically reduces rhetoric to style. The old lore of investigation
(_inventio_), paralyzed by the compression of its trunk nerve, has little
scope beyond ingenuity. Organized movement[9] (_dispositio_), similarly
impaired at the source, tends to be reduced to salience and variety,
or to be supplanted by pattern. Memory becomes verbal. But style and
delivery, becoming the main reliance, are elaborated into a systematic
technic to a degree almost incredible to-day. In sheer virtuosity the
second sophistic has hardly a parallel in earlier or later centuries.
It is more like the art of Paderewski or Bernhardt than like that of
Demosthenes.

B. THE SECOND SOPHISTIC[10]

1. Philostratus, _The Lives of the Sophists_[11]

_The Lives of the Sophists_ by Philostratus derives the “new” sophistic
of his day from the old. New, says he, it is not. We may call it a
second sophistic; but it keeps an old tradition. Far from apologizing
for sophistic, old or new, Philostratus is proud of it. He sets out
to celebrate it as a great tradition. Gorgias is not defended from
Socratic exposure; he is claimed as a distinguished ancestor.[12] That
rhetoric is not what Aristotle urged, that it is after all sophistic,
Philostratus assumes. Nor is the assumption merely provincial vanity;
it was widespread and secure. There was no need to vindicate what was
generally accepted. Moreover the facts justify not only the assumption
of Philostratus, but his history. Though he is not historical in method,
his assertion of continuity from Gorgias down to the platform artists
of his day has been approved by studies really historical, and affirmed
for the fourth century as well. _The Lives of the Sophists_, therefore,
exhibit the second sophistic as the fixing of an old tendency in habitual
practise and teaching.

During the second, third, and fourth centuries, and throughout the Roman
world, rhetoric meant a sophistic generally constant. The leanings of
particular schools, such as Stoic Pergamum, were not wide enough to
bring new departures. They were merely shifts of emphasis within a
common doctrine and practise. The cult of “Atticism” was too artificial
to check the general tendency to “Asianism.”[13] What was learned at
Athens could be practised at Rome; and neither Athens nor Rome dimmed the
glory of Smyrna and Antioch.[14] The schools of Bordeaux were to become
essentially like those of Gaza and Carthage. The same “Gorgian figures”
were learned by St. Augustine in Latin Africa, by St. Gregory Nazianzen
in the Greek East, and by the pagan Libanius. Greco-Roman rhetoric was as
pervasive as Roman law and almost as constant.

2. The Character of Sophistic

a. VIRTUOSITY

In estimating this rhetoric, then, little allowance need be made for
place or date.[15] Its main characteristics were so constant as to stand
out clearly. The most obvious arise from the general aim of virtuosity.
This is the constant assumption of Philostratus. Individual triumphs were
not so much triumphs of individuality as outstanding exhibitions of skill
in working out a pattern. In method, in composition, there was little
difference between a teacher’s assignments to his amateur pupils and his
own professional orations.[16] Sophistic is largely an oratory of themes.

(1) _Declamatio_[17] (μελέτη)

THEMES OF THE SOPHISTS CELEBRATED BY PHILOSTRATUS

HISTORICAL OR SEMI-HISTORICAL THEMES

The Lacedemonians deliberate concerning a wall. I. 20 (70).[18]
(Isæus; so Aristides, II. 9 (220).)

Demosthenes swears that he did not take the bribe.

Should the trophies erected by the Greeks be taken down?

The Athenians should return to their demes after Ægospotami.

Xenophon refuses to survive Socrates.

Solon demands that his laws be rescinded after Pisistratus has
obtained a bodyguard. I. 25 (122-132). (Polemo.)

The Cretans maintain that they have the tomb of Zeus. II. 4
(188). (Antiochus.)

Scythians, return to your nomadic life. II. 5 (194). (Alexander
of Seleucia; so Hippodromus, II. 27 (296).)

The wounded in Sicily implore the Athenians who are retreating
thence to put them to death with their own hands.

Pericles urges them to keep up the war even after the oracle
declares Apollo’s support of the Lacedemonians. (II. 5; both
also of Alexander.)

Isocrates tries to wean the Athenians from their empire of the
sea.

Callixenus is upbraided for not having granted burial to the
Ten.

Deliberation on affairs in Sicily.[19]

Æschines, when the grain had not come.

Those whose children have been murdered reject a treaty of
alliance. II. 9 (220, seq.) (Aristides.)

Hyperides, when Philip is at Elatea, heeds only the counsels of
Demosthenes. II. 10 (230). (Hadrian of Tyre.)

Islanders sell their children to pay taxes. II. 12 (238).
(Pollux.)

The Thebans accuse the Messenians of ingratitude. II. 15 (244).
(Ptolemy.)

Callias tries to dissuade the Athenians from burning the dead.
II. 20 (256). (Apollonius of Athens.)

The citizens of Catana.

Demades against revolting from Alexander while he is in India.
II. 27 (296). (Hippodromus.)

FICTITIOUS THEMES

The adulterer unmasked. I. 25 (132). (Polemo.)

The instigator of a revolt suppresses it. I. 26 (136).
(Secundus.)

The ravished chooses that her ravisher be put to death. II. 4
(188). (Antiochus.)

A tyrant abdicates on condition of immunity. (_Ibid._)

The man who fell in love with a statue. II. 18 (250).
(Onomarchus.)

The magician who wished to die because he was unable to kill
another magician, an adulterer. II. 27 (292). (Hippodromus.)

Evidently the themes were generally the same as those of the
_declamationes_ celebrated by Seneca.[20] Some of them were identical.
Such subjects give the oratory of the imperial centuries, both Greek
and Latin, the air of athletics, and make its teaching seem largely
gymnastic. Gregory Nazianzen, indeed, calls the sophists “oratorical
acrobats.”[21] But instead of dismissing sophistic with so obvious a
sarcasm, we may learn something from its delight in verbal artistry.

For what, then, ultimately do we blame them? For their absolute
emptiness of thought? But who shall say that they were trying
to think, or that they were asked to think?... a kind of
eloquence, and also a system of education, of which we have
not any longer even the notion; for it rested on a sentiment
which has disappeared, _the absolute and disinterested love of
speaking well_—disinterested not always, indeed, as to personal
advantage, but always as to thought. Who knows whether thought
was for them anything else or anything more than a simple
_motif_, a theme to be developed, something which sustained the
discourse without imparting to it any value, something like the
libretto of an opera?[22]

Since the oratory of display is still with us, the second sophistic
should be taken to heart as a complete historic demonstration of what
must become of rhetoric without the urgencies of matter and motive.

Philostratus has no qualms. For him _declamatio_ (μελέτη), far from being
merely a school exercise, is a form of public speaking on a par with any
other. It is even _the_ form of his sophists. He pays little attention
to any other except encomium, which is also a school exercise. Reading
the past with the eyes of the present, he finds it in Gorgias,[23] who
elaborated “encomia of the Medic trophies.” “Medics” (Μηδικά), dilations
on the old glories of the Persian wars, were the favorite subjects of
_declamatio_. This is evident both from their frequent recurrence and
from Lucian’s satire.[24] Scopelian, Philostratus thinks, was best

in Medics, in the Darius and Xerxes things, I mean; for, to me
at least, he of all the sophists seems to render these best and
to set a tradition of rendering for his successors. I. 21 (84).

Ptolemy of Naucratis, however, was nicknamed Marathon.[25] The wonder is
that the nickname was sufficiently distinctive.[26]

(2) Improvisation and Memory

The vogue of such subjects does much to explain the otherwise incredible
accounts of improvisation. “Propose a theme,” the sophist’s challenge
which Philostratus traces back to Gorgias,[27] becomes less startling
when we find that the theme, as well as the treatment, might come from
stock. Even so the readiness and fluency seem phenomenal and were the
great boast. See Mark of Byzantium recognized by pupils in the school of
Polemo.

Accordingly when Polemo asked for themes to be proposed, they
all turned towards Mark.... Mark, lifting up his voice and
tossing his head, said: “I will both propose and execute.”
Thereupon Polemo ... discoursed at him long and wonderfully on
the spur of the moment; and when he had declaimed and heard
Mark declaim, he was both admired and admiring. I. 24 (104).

Aristides was exceptional in declining to speak thus; and Philostratus
thinks the less of him.[28] Generally improvisation was expected as a
mark of virtuosity.[29] The _locus classicus_, perhaps, of improvisation,
the most daring and phenomenal virtuosity, is ascribed by Eunapius to
Prohæresius.

Then from his chair the sophist first delivered a graceful
prelude ... then with the fullest confidence he rose for
his formal discussion. The proconsul was ready to propose a
definition for the theme, but Prohæresius threw back his head
and gazed all round the theater ... and beheld in the farthest
row of the audience, hiding themselves in their cloaks, two
men, veterans in the service of rhetoric, at whose hands he
had received the worst treatment of all, and he cried out:
“Ye gods! There are those honourable and wise men! Proconsul,
order them to propose a theme for me. Then perhaps they will
be convinced that they have behaved impiously.”... Whereupon,
after considering for a short time and consulting together,
they produced the hardest and most disagreeable theme that they
knew of, a vulgar one, moreover, that gave no opening for the
display of fine rhetoric. Prohæresius glared at them fiercely,
and said to the proconsul: “I implore you to grant me ... to
have shorthand writers assigned to me.”... Then he said: “I
shall ask for something even more difficult to grant ... there
must be no applause whatever.” When the proconsul had given
all present an order to this effect ... Prohæresius began his
speech with a flood of eloquence, rounding every period with
a sonorous phrase.... As the speech grew more vehement and
the orator soared to heights which the mind of man could not
describe or conceive of, he passed on to the second part of the
speech and completed the exposition of the theme. But then,
suddenly leaping in the air like one inspired, he abandoned the
remaining part, left it undefended, and turned the flood of his
eloquence to defend the contrary hypothesis. The scribes could
hardly keep pace with him, the audience could hardly endure
to remain silent, while the mighty stream of words flowed on.
Then, turning his face towards the scribes, he said: “Observe
carefully whether I remember all the arguments that I used
earlier.” And without faltering over a single word, he began
to declaim the same speech for the second time. (Wright’s
translation, 493.)

This performance is extraordinary only in degree. That of Isæus, as
reported by Pliny,[30] seems the same in kind; and so, apparently,
are many other recorded triumphs. Taken together, they reveal strict
limits. The improvisation was mainly of style. It consisted in fluency
of rehandling, of variations upon themes, and in patterns, so common
as to constitute a stock in trade. It permitted the use over and over
again not only of stock examples and illustrations, but of successful
phrases, modulated periods, even whole descriptions. It was the art of
a technician, not of a composer.[31] Memory, too, thus trained, was no
longer the orator’s command of his material;[32] it was the actor’s
command of words. Though a sophist might, indeed, be a thinker, he
hardly needed to be for the purposes of his oratory. His fluency was
typically not in seizing and carrying forward ideas and images, but in
readiness to draw upon a store.

(3) Delivery

The character of this oratory is further expressed in the records of
its delivery. Even more than modulation Philostratus exhibits sonority
and force. Polemo’s delivery was thrilling as an Olympian trumpet.[33]
Scopelian imitated the volume of Nicetes and had the sonority of
Gorgias.[34] Favorinus fascinated even those who did not understand
Greek.[35] The carrying voice spoke in marked rhythms. Gesture, pushed
sometimes to the extent of acting, was habitually demonstrative. Sitting
at first, the orator might then leap to his feet, smite his thigh, walk,
stamp, sway as a Bacchante. If such theatrical delivery seems to moderns
of the West more violent than it seemed to its own audiences, it has
never been extinct; and any one familiar with the oratory of display
in any time will recognize the sophist’s heavy frown, his mien of deep
thought, his air of authority.[36] Chaucer’s Pardoner speaks for the
whole sophist line:

I peyne me to han an hauteyn speche.

_Canterbury Tales_, C. 330.

Such weight and vehemence of delivery, sometimes conceding a benignant
smile, oftener relying on arrogance,[37] was the bodily expression of
the impressiveness (δεινότης) cultivated no less assiduously in style.
The sophist was over-expressive lest for a moment he should cease to
be impressive. The audience need not be held to any course of thought;
it must not be held too long by any one device of style; but it must
unflaggingly admire. It must be spellbound. The constant implication of
Philostratus probably echoes the ideal of orator and audience alike:
behold a great speaker!

b. DILATION

Such oratory must be dilated, even inflated. That it was so in fact any
one may satisfy himself who has the patience. The amplification[38]
practised by Cicero and taught by Quintilian, though in print it may
seem over-anxious, is an oratorical necessity. It is not merely Greek
expansiveness; for it moves also the more stinted Latin. In any language
it must almost always be practised as a means to oral clearness.[39]
But sophistic amplification has no such warrant. It is often purely
decorative. Instead of marking a stage of progress, it often merely
dwells on a picture, or elaborates a truism, or acts out a mood. It is
there for itself, expecting its own applause. Many of the figures of
speech are devices of dilation; for sophistic is an art not only of
elaboration, but of elaborateness.

(1) _Ecphrasis_

Without enumerating devices that constitute a large part of sophistic, we
may see the characteristic dilation at the full in the single form known
as ἔκφρασις.[40] An ecphrasis is a separable decorative description,
usually of a stock subject. “I will draw this for you in words,” says
Himerius,[41] using the formula of introduction, “and will make your
ears serve for eyes.” The natural beauty of a prospect or of the human
body is detailed for admiration, even oftener the artistic beauty of
statue or temple. The orator turns on, as it were, a storm, a feast, the
prospect of a city. The essentially artificial character of the ecphrasis
is obvious in the favorite exercise of word-painting a peacock.[42]
Apparently a boy could carry this peacock from school to the platform and
continue to use it with merely verbal variations.

Of course the ecphrasis might rise to a higher level. So it did often.
An accomplished orator might make it splendid, even really moving.
Oratory cannot afford to neglect the appeal of oral description.
None the less the ecphrasis had two essential vices. First it was
extraneous, separable, detachable, a clear sign that sequence did not
count. Secondly, instead of following the Aristotelian counsels of
specific concrete imagery, it habitually generalized and rapidly became
conventional.

Ecphrasis is no less significant for poetic. A form of Alexandrianism[43]
avoided by Vergil and adopted with enthusiasm by Ovid, it perverts
description because it frustrates narrative movement. The habit
of decorative dilation in oratory confirmed a decadent habit of
literature.[44] That the habit is decadent even when indulged with more
taste is suggested by certain passages in De Quincey, in Pater, most
clearly perhaps in that English sophist Laurence Sterne. Among the
ecphrases of the _Sentimental Journey_ is one that he executed upon a
theme taken from the most expert mocker of the sophists, Lucian,[45] and
has made quite typical of the soothing rhythms and the elegant dilation
of sophistic eloquence.

The town of Abdera, notwithstanding Democritus lived there,
trying all the powers of irony and laughter to reclaim it, was
the vilest and most profligate town in all Thrace. What for
poisons, conspiracies, and assassinations, libels, pasquinades
and tumults, there was no going there by day; ’twas worse by
night. Now when things were at their worst, it came to pass
that the Andromeda of Euripides being represented at Abdera,
the whole orchestra was delighted with it. But of all the
passages which delighted them, nothing operated more upon their
imaginations than the tender strokes of nature which the poet
had wrought up in that pathetic speech of Perseus, “O Cupid!
prince of gods and men.” Every man, almost, spoke pure iambics
the next day, and talked of nothing but Perseus’ pathetic
address—“O Cupid! prince of gods and men!” In every street of
Abdera, in every house—“O Cupid! Cupid!” in every mouth, like
the natural notes of some sweet melody, which drop from it
whether it will or no, nothing but “Cupid! Cupid! prince of
gods and men!” The fire caught; and the whole city, like the
heart of one man, opened itself to love. No pharmacopolist
could sell one grain of hellebore; not a single armorer had a
heart to forge one instrument of death. Friendship and Virtue
met together and kissed each other in the street. The golden
age returned and hung over the town of Abdera. Every Abderite
took his oaten pipe, and every Abderitish woman left her purple
web, and chastely sat her down, and listened to the song.
“’Twas only in the power,” says the fragment, “of the god whose
empire extended from heaven to earth, and even to the depths of
the sea, to have done this.”

c. PATTERN

For the composition of the whole speech sophistic generally had little
care. That planned sequence, that leading on of the mind from point
to point, which is the habit of great orators and the chief means of
cogency, presupposes urgency toward a goal. Sophistic often had no goal.
The audience need be won only to admiration, not to decision. Easily,
therefore, rhetoric came to pay no more attention to logical movement
than poetic to movement in narrative. Like Alexandrian narrative,
sophistic oratory cares little for onwardness; and its lore is reduced to
prescription for detail.

If Philostratus seems occasionally aware of the value of planned
movement, scrutiny will reveal that he is thinking not of the order of
the whole, but only of sentences. For instance, the passage praising
Isocrates for his “brilliant composition”[46] specifies his handling of
rhythms; “for thought after thought concludes upon a balanced period.”

This lack of plan may seem paradoxical in the works of writers
as artistic as the Greek men of letters. So, indeed, it is;
but it is explained by the quite different conception that the
Greeks—at least those of the decadence—have of the beauty of
a discourse. For them the whole value is in the detail. The
perfecting of the whole is secondary; they have no taste for
it. By a sort of deliberate intellectual myopia they restrict
their field of vision to the analysis of a paragraph, a period,
a phrase, even a word. Their esthetic sense, so to speak, is
fragmentary.[47]

As if to mark the lack of individual planning for cogency, sophistic
is commonly composed upon set patterns. No other body of oratory has
so uniformly resigned itself to forms. The orator could devote his
whole attention to each separate development because its place was
predetermined in a traditional series of topics. The encomium[48] of
a country was expected to deal with its situation, climate, products,
its race, founders, government, its advancement in learning and
literature, its festivals and its buildings, unless indeed the whole
encomium were based on one of these topics. Similar topics controlled
the praise of a city, a harbor, a bay, an acropolis. The classification
of these as separate forms goes on to enumerate the speech at an
embarkation, a marriage, a birthday, a festival, etc., as in a complete
letter-writer.[49] Similarly prescribed was the encomium of a person. So
pervasive were its topics that they invaded even written biography.[50]
Philostratus follows them in his account of Herodes Atticus.[51] Basil,
on the other hand, explicitly rejects them as inept for encomia of
Christian martyrs; and his protest shows at once their prevalence and
their typical vice.

The school of God does not recognize the laws of the encomium,
but holds that a mere telling of the martyr’s deeds is a
sufficient praise for the saints and sufficient inspiration for
those who are struggling towards virtue. For it is the fixed
habit of encomia to search out the history of the native city,
to find out the family exploits, and to relate the education of
the subject of the encomium, but it is our custom to pass over
in silence such details and to compose the encomium of each
martyr from those facts which have a bearing on his martyrdom.
How could I be an object of more reverence or be more
illustrious from the fact that my native city once upon a time
endured great and heavy battles and after routing her enemies
erected famous trophies? What if she is so happily located that
in summer and winter her climate is pleasant? If she is the
mother of heroes and is capable of supporting cattle, what gain
are these to me? In her herds of horses she surpasses all lands
under the sun. How may these facts improve us in manly virtue?
If we talk about the peaks of mountains near, how they out-top
the clouds and reach the farthest stretches of the air, shall
we deceive ourselves into thinking that drawing praise from
these facts we give praise to men? Of all things it is most
absurd that when the just despise the whole world, we celebrate
their praises from those things which they contemned.[52]

Such composing upon a pattern is legitimately a school exercise. Its use
in elementary education is not confined to sophistic. What is sophistic
is its extent and its prescriptiveness, still more its extension from
school into adult and professional practise. How far the oratory of the
imperial centuries was controlled by fixed topics becomes startingly
evident in its conformity to the rules set forth by the manuals of
elementary exercises.[53] Theon’s of uncertain date may have been
superseded[54] by that of Aphthonius in the fourth century, which at any
rate had a long life.[55] But the pattern is most concisely shown in the
second century by Hermogenes,[56] whose work is typical of them all.
There some of the most characteristic habits of form in sophistic oratory
are seen as prolongations of school exercises.

THE ELEMENTARY EXERCISES (προγυμνάσματα) OF HERMOGENES[57]

MYTH (FABLE)

Myth is the approved thing to set first before the young,
because it can lead their minds into better measures.

Myths appear to have been used also by the ancients, Hesiod
telling that of the nightingale, Archilochus that of the fox.

From their inventors myths are named Cyprian or Libyan or
Sybaritic; but all alike are called Æsopic, because Æsop used
myths for his dialogues.

The description of a myth is traditionally something like this.
It may, they say, be fictitious, but thoroughly practical
for some contingency of actual life. Moreover it should be
plausible. How may it be plausible? By our assigning to the
characters actions that befit them. For example, if the
contention be about beauty, let this be posed as a peacock; if
some one is to be represented as wise, there let us pose a fox;
if imitators of the actions of men, monkeys.

Myths are sometimes to be expanded, sometimes to be told
concisely. How? By now telling in bare narrative, and now
feigning the words of the given characters. For example, “the
monkeys in council deliberated on the necessity of settling
in houses. When they had made up their minds to this end and
were about to set to work, an old monkey restrained them,
saying that they would more easily be captured if they were
caught within enclosures.” Thus if you are concise; but if you
wish to expand, proceed in this way. “The monkeys in council
deliberated on the founding of a city; and one coming forward
made a speech to the effect that they too must have a city.
‘For see,’ said he, ‘how fortunate in this regard are men. Not
only does each of them have a house, but all going up together
to public meeting or theater delight their souls with all
manner of things to see and hear.’” Go on thus, dwelling on the
incidents and saying that the decree was formally passed; and
devise a speech for the old monkey. So much for this.

The style of recital, they say, should be far from periods and
near to pleasantness. The moral to be derived from the myth is
sometimes put first, sometimes last. Orators[58] too appear to
have used myth instead of example.

TALE

A tale, they say, is the setting forth of something that has
happened or of something as if it had happened. Sometimes,
however, authorities set the chria instead of this.

A tale differs from a story as a poem from an extended poetical
work. For a poem or a tale is about one thing, a poetical
work or a story about several. Thus a poetical work is the
_Iliad_, for example, or the _Odyssey_; but a poem is (one of
the component parts, such as) the making of the shield, the
visit to the shades, or the slaying of the suitors. And again,
a story is the history of Herodotus or the composition of
Thucydides; a tale is the incident of Arion or that of Alcmæon.

The forms of the tale are said to be four: the mythical; the
fictitious, which is also called the dramatic, as those of the
tragic poets; the historical; and the political or personal.
But for the present we consider the last.

The modes of tales are five: direct declarative, indirect
declarative, interrogative, enumerative, comparative. Direct
declarative is as follows: “Medea was the daughter of Æetes.
She betrayed the golden fleece”; and it is called direct
because the whole discourse, or the greater part, keeps the
nominative case. Indirect declarative is as follows: “The story
runs that Medea, daughter of Æetes, was enamored of Jason,”
and so on; and it is called indirect because it uses the other
cases. The interrogative is this mode: “What terrible thing did
not Medea do? Was she not enamored of Jason, and did she not
betray the golden fleece and kill her brother Absyrtus?” and
so on. The enumerative mode is as follows: “Medea, daughter
of Æetes, was enamored of Jason, betrayed the golden fleece,
slew her brother Absyrtus,” and so on. The comparative is
as follows: “Medea, daughter of Æetes, instead of ruling
her spirit, was enamored; instead of guarding the golden
fleece, betrayed it; instead of saving her brother Absyrtus,
slew him.” The direct mode is suited to stories, as being
clearer; the indirect, rather to trials; the interrogative to
cross-questioning; the enumerative, to perorations, as rousing
emotion.

CHRIA

A chria[59] is a concise exposition of some memorable saying or
deed, generally for good counsel.

Some chriæ are of words, others of deeds, still others of both:
of words, i.e., essentially sayings, as “Plato said that
the Muses dwell in the souls of the fit”; of deeds, i.e.,
essentially doings, as “Diogenes, seeing an ill-bred youth,
smote his tutor, saying ‘why did you teach him thus?’”

A chria differs from a memoir mainly in scope; for some
memoirs may run to considerable length, but a chria must be
concise. It differs from a proverb in that the latter is a bald
declaration, whereas a chria is often (developed) by question
and answer; and again in that a chria may be based upon deeds,
whereas a proverb is based only upon words; and again in that
a chria introduces the person who did or said, whereas the
proverb has no reference to a person.

Chriæ have been distinguished, mainly by the ancients, as
declarative, interrogative, and investigative.

But now let us come to the point, that is the actual working
out. Let this working out be as follows: first, brief encomium
of the sayer or doer; then paraphrase of the chria itself; then
proof or explanation. For example, Isocrates said that the root
of education is bitter, but its fruit sweet: (1) encomium,
“Isocrates was wise,” and you will slightly develop this topic;
(2) chria, “said, etc.,” and you will not leave this bare, but
develop the significance; (3) proof, (a) direct, “the greatest
affairs are usually established through toil, and, once
established, bring happiness”; (b) by contrast, “those affairs
which succeed by chance require no toil and their conclusion
brings no happiness; quite the contrary with things that demand
our zeal”; (c) by illustration, “as the farmers who toil
ought to reap the fruit, so with speeches”; (d) by example,
“Demosthenes, who shut himself up in his room and labored much,
finally reaped his fruit, crowns and public proclamations.” (e)
You may also cite authority, as “Hesiod says, ‘Before virtue
the gods have put sweat’; and another poet says, ‘The gods
sell all good things for labor.’” (4) Last you will put an
exhortation to follow what was said or done.

So much for now; fuller instructions you will learn later.

PROVERB

A proverb is a summary saying, in a statement of general
application, dissuading from something or persuading toward
something, or showing what is the nature of each: dissuading,
as in that line “a counsellor should not sleep all night”;
persuading, as in the lines “he who flees poverty, Cyrnus,
must cast himself upon the monster-haunted deep and down steep
crags.” Or it does neither of these, but makes a declaration
concerning the nature of the thing: “Faring well undeservedly
is for the unintelligent the beginning of thinking ill.”

Again, some proverbs are true, others plausible; some simple,
others compound, others hyperbolic:

(1) true, such as “no one can find a life without pain”;

(2) plausible, such as “never have I asked what manner of man
takes pleasure in bad company, knowing that birds of a feather
flock together”;

(3) simple, such as “wealth may make men even benevolent”;

(4) compound, such as “no good comes of many rulers; let there
be one”;

(5) hyperbolic, such as “earth breeds nothing feebler than man.”

The working out is similar to that of the chria; for it
proceeds by (1) brief encomium of him who made the saying, as
in the chria; (2) direct exposition; (3) proof; (4) contrast;
(5) enthymeme; (6) illustration; (7) example; (8) authority.
Let the proverb be, for example, “_a counsellor should not
sleep all night._” (1) You will briefly praise the speaker.
Then to (2) direct exposition, i.e., to paraphrase of the
proverb, as “it befits not a man proved in counsels to
sleep through the whole night”; (3) proof, “always through
pondering is one a leader, but sleep takes away counsel”;
(4) contrast, “as a private citizen differs from a king, so
sleep from wakefulness”; (5) “how, then, might it be taken?
if there is nothing startling in a private citizen’s sleeping
all night, plainly it befits a king to ponder wakefully”; (6)
illustration, “as helmsmen are incessantly wakeful for the
common safety, so should chieftains be”; (7) example, “Hector,
not sleeping at night, but pondering, sent Dolon to the ships
to reconnoiter.” (8) The last topic is the one from authority.
Let the conclusion be hortatory.

REFUTATION AND CONFIRMATION

Destructive analysis is the overturning of the thing cited;
constructive analysis, on the contrary, its confirmation.

Things fictitious, such as myths, are open to neither
destruction nor construction; destruction and construction
apply only to things that offer argument on either side.

Destructive analysis proceeds by alleging that the thing is (1)
obscure, (2) incredible, (3) impossible, (4) inconsistent or,
as it is called, contrary, (5) unfitting, (6) inexpedient: (1)
obscure, as “in the case of Narcissus the time is obscure”;
(2) incredible, as “it is incredible that Arion in the midst
of his ills was willing to sing”; (3) impossible, “it is
impossible that Arion was saved on a dolphin”; (4) inconsistent
or contrary, “quite opposite to preserving popular government
is wishing to destroy it”; (5) unfitting, “it was unfitting for
Apollo, being a god, to love a mortal woman”; (6) inexpedient,
when we say that it is of no use to hear this.

Confirmation proceeds by the opposites of these.

COMMONPLACE

The so-called commonplace is the amplification of a thing
admitted, of demonstrations already made. For in this we
are no longer investigating whether so-and-so was a robber
of temples, whether such-another was a chieftain, but how we
shall amplify the demonstrated fact. It is called commonplace
because it is applicable to every temple-robber and to every
chieftain. The procedure must be as follows: (1) analysis of
the contrary, (2) the deed itself, (3) comparison, (4) proverb,
(5) defamatory surmise of the past life (of the accused) from
the present, (6) repudiation of pity by the so-called final
considerations and by a sketch of the deed itself.

Introductions will not be merely within the commonplace, but
will be maintained up to it. For instance, if the commonplace
be about a temple-robber, the introduction, not in sense but
in type, may be as follows: “All evil-doers, honorable judges,
should be hated, but especially those whose audacity is
directed toward the gods”; or again, “If you wish to deprave
other men, let this one go; if not, punish him”; or again, “To
outward seeming the only one on trial here is the accused, but
in truth you judges, too; for to be false to one’s oath of
office may be more criminal than transgression.”

Then, before proceeding to the deed itself, (1) discuss its
contrary; e.g., “Our laws have provided for the worship of
the gods, have reared altars and adorned them with votive
offerings, have honored the gods with sacrifices, festal
assemblies, processions.” Then the application to the
indictment. “Naturally, for the favor of the gods preserves
cities; and without this they must be destroyed.” (2) Now
proceed to the case in hand. “These things being so, what has
this man dared?” and tell what he has done, not as explaining
it, but as heightening. “He has defiled the whole city, both
its public interests and its private; and we must fear lest our
crops fail; we must fear lest we be worsted by our enemies,”
etc. (3) Next go on to comparison. “He is more dangerous than
murderers; for the difference is in the object of attack.
They have presumed against human life; he has outraged the
gods. He is like despots, not like them all, but like the most
dangerous. For in them it appears most shocking that they
lay hands on what has been dedicated to the gods.” And you
will bring into the denunciation comparisons with the lesser,
since they are destructive. “Is it not shocking to punish the
thief, but not the temple-robber?” (4, 5 above.) You may draw
defamation of the rest of his life from his present crime.
“Beginning with small offenses, he went on to this one last,
so that you have before you in the same person a thief, a
housebreaker, and an adulterer” (5, 4 above). You may cite
the proverb in accordance with which he came to this pass,
“Unwilling to work in the fields, he wished to get money by
such means”; and, if you are denouncing a homicide, (you may
tell) also the consequences, “a wife made widow, children
orphans.” (6) Use also the repudiation of pity. Now you will
repudiate pity by the so-called final considerations of equity,
justice, expediency, possibility, and propriety, and by
description of the crime. “Look not on him as he weeps now, but
on him as he despises the gods, as he approaches the shrine, as
he forces the doors, as he lays hands on the votive offerings.”
And conclude upon exhortation. “What are you about to do? what
to decide concerning that which has been already judged?” So
much for the present; the ampler method you will know later.

ENCOMIUM

Encomium is the setting forth of the good qualities that
belong to some one in general or in particular: in general,
as encomium of man; in particular, as encomium of Socrates.
We make encomia also of things, such as justice; and of
animals without reason, such as the horse; and even of plants,
mountains, and rivers. It has been called encomium, they say,
from poets’ singing the hymns of the gods in villages long ago;
and passes also used to be called villages.

Encomium differs from praise (in general) in that the latter
may be brief, as “Socrates was wise,” whereas encomium
is developed at some length. Observe too that censure is
classified with encomia, either because the latter may be
euphemistic or because both are developed by the same
commonplaces. In what, then, does the encomium differ from the
commonplace? For in some cases the two seem very much alike.
The difference, they say, appears in the end, in the issue.
For whereas in the commonplace the aim is to receive a reward,
encomium has no other (end) than the witness to virtue.

Subjects for encomia are: a race, as the Greek; a city, as
Athens; a family, as the Alcmæonidæ. You will say[60] what
marvelous things befell at the birth, as dreams or signs or the
like. Next, the nurture, as, in the case of Achilles, that he
was reared on lions’ marrow and by Chiron. Then the training,
how he was trained and how educated. Not only so, but the
nature of soul and body will be set forth, and of each under
heads: for the body, beauty, stature, agility, might; for
the soul, justice, self-control, wisdom, manliness. Next his
pursuits, what sort of life he pursued, that of philosopher,
orator, or soldier, and most properly his deeds, for deeds
come under the head of pursuits. For example, if he chose the
life of a soldier, what in this did he achieve? Then external
resources, such as kin, friends, possessions, household,
fortune, etc. Then from the (topic) time, how long he lived,
much or little; for either gives rise to encomia. A long-lived
man you will praise on this score; a short-lived, on the score
of his not sharing those diseases which come from age. Then,
too, from the manner of his end, as that he died fighting for
his fatherland, and, if there were anything extraordinary under
that head, as in the case of Callimachus that even in death
he stood. You will draw praise also from the one who slew
him, as that Achilles died at the hands of the god Apollo.
You will describe also what was done after his end, whether
funeral games were ordained in his honor, as in the case of
Patroclus, whether there was an oracle concerning his bones, as
in the case of Orestes, whether his children were famous, as
Neoptolemus. But the greatest opportunity in encomia is through
comparisons, which you will draw as the occasion may suggest.

Similarly also living things without speech, so far as they
permit. You will draw your encomia from the place in which the
thing lives; and in addition to the country of its birth you
will tell to which of the gods it is dedicated, as the owl to
Athena, the horse to Poseidon. In like manner also you will
tell its nurture, the nature of soul and body, its deeds and
their use, the length of its life; and you will use throughout
such comparisons as fall in with these topics.

Encomia of things done you will draw from their inventors, as
the things of the chase from Artemis and Apollo; from those
who practised them, as heroes. But the best procedure for
such encomia is to consider those who pursue them, of what
sort these are in soul and body, e.g., hunters as manly,
courageous, more alert in intelligence, physically vigorous.
Finally you will observe that we must make encomia of the gods;
and it is to be borne in mind that such encomia must be called
hymns.[61]

Furthermore plants similarly, each from the topics of its
habitat, of the god to which it is dedicated, as the olive to
Athena, of its nurture, as how it is grown. If it needs much
care, you will marvel at this; if little, at that. You will
tell concerning its body, its rapid growth, its beauty, and
whether it is ever-blooming, as the olive. Then its usefulness,
on which you will dwell most. Comparisons you will lay hold of
everywhere.

Furthermore encomium of a city you may undertake from these
topics without difficulty. For you will tell of its race that
its citizens were autochthonous, and concerning its nurture
that they were nourished by the gods, and concerning its
education that they were educated by the gods. And you will
expound, as in the case of a man, of what sort the city is
in its manners and institutions, and what its pursuits and
accomplishments.

COMPARISON

Comparison has been included both under _commonplace_ as a
means of our amplifying misdeeds, and also under _encomium_ as
a means of amplifying good deeds, and finally has been included
as having the same force in censure. But since some (authors)
of no small reputation have made it an exercise by itself, we
must speak of it briefly. It proceeds, then, by the encomiastic
topics; for we compare city with city as to the men who came
from them, race with race, nurture with nurture, pursuits,
affairs, external relations, and the manner of death and what
follows. Likewise if you compare plants, you will set over
against one another the gods who give them, the places in which
they grow, the cultivation, the use of their fruits, etc.
Likewise also if you compare things done, you will tell who
first undertook them, and will compare with one another those
who pursued them as to qualities of soul and body. Let the same
principle be accepted for all.

Now sometimes we draw our comparisons by equality, showing the
things which we compare as equal either in all respects or in
several; sometimes we put the one ahead, praising also the
other to which we prefer it; sometimes we blame the one utterly
and praise the other, as in a comparison of justice and wealth.
There is even comparison with the better, where the task is
to show the less equal to the greater, as in a comparison of
Heracles with Odysseus. But such comparison demands a powerful
orator and a vivid style; and the working out always needs
vivacity because of the need of making the transitions swift.

CHARACTERIZATION (ΗΘΟΠΟΙΙΑ)[62]

Characterization is imitation of the character of a person
assigned, e.g., what words Andromache might say to Hector.
(The exercise is called) _prosopopœia_ when we put the person
into the scene, as Elenchus in Menander, and as in Aristides
the sea is imagined to be addressing the Athenians. The
difference is plain; for in the one case we invent words for a
person really there, and in the other we invent also a person
who was not there. They call it image-making (εἰδωλοποιία)
when we suit words to the dead, as Aristides in the speech
against Plato in behalf of the Four; for he suited words to the
companions of Themistocles.

Characterizations are of definite persons and of indefinite;
of indefinite, e.g., what words a man might say to his family
when he was about to go away; of definite, e.g., what words
Achilles might say to Deidamia when he was about to go forth
to war. Characterizations are single when a man is supposed
to be making a speech by himself, double when he has an
interlocutor: by himself, e.g., what a general might say on
returning from a victory; to others, e.g., what a general
might say to his army after a victory.

Always keep the distinctive traits proper to the assigned
persons and occasions; for the speech of youth is not
that of age, nor the speech of joy that of grief. Some
characterizations are of the habit of mind, others of the
mood, others a combination of the two: (1) of the habit, in
which the dominant throughout is this habit, e.g., what a
farmer would say on first seeing a ship; (2) of the mood,
in which the dominant throughout is the feeling, e.g.,
what Andromache might say to Hector; (3) combined, in which
character and emotion meet, e.g., what Achilles might say to
Patroclus—emotion at the slaughter of Patroclus, character in
his plan for the war.

The working out proceeds according to the three times. Begin
with the present because it is hard; then revert to the past
because it has had much happiness; then make your transition to
the future because what is to happen is much more impressive.
Let the figures and the diction conform to the persons assigned.

ECPHRASIS[63]

An ecphrasis is an account in detail, visible, as they say,
bringing before one’s eyes what is to be shown. Ecphrases are
of persons, actions, times, places, seasons, and many other
things: of persons, e.g., Homer’s “crooked was he and halt of
one foot”; of actions, e.g., a description of a battle by land
or sea; of times, e.g., of peace or of war; of places, e.g.,
of harbors, sea-shores, cities; of seasons, e.g., of spring
or summer, or of a festal occasion. And ecphrasis may combine
these, as in Thucydides the battle by night; for night is a
time and battle is an action.

Ecphrasis of actions will proceed from what went before, from
what happened at the time, and from what followed. Thus if we
make an ecphrasis on war, first we shall tell what happened
before the war, the levy, the expenditures, the fears; then the
engagements, the slaughter, the deaths; then the monument of
victory; then the pæans of the victors and, of the others, the
tears, the slavery. Ecphrases of places, seasons, or persons
will draw also from narrative and from the beautiful, the
useful, or their contraries. The virtues of the ecphrasis are
clearness and visibility; for the style must through hearing
operate to bring about seeing. But it is no less important that
the expression correspond to the thing. If the thing be fresh,
let the style be so too; if it be dry, let the style be similar.

Note that some precisians do not make ecphrasis a (separate)
exercise on the ground that it has been anticipated both in
fable and in tale, in commonplace and in encomium; for in these
too, they say, we expatiate descriptively on places, rivers,
deeds, and persons. Nevertheless, since some (authors) of no
small account have numbered this also among their exercises, we
too have followed them, lest we be accused of negligence.

THESIS

The limits of the thesis are traditionally that the thesis
is a discussion of a matter considered apart from every
particular circumstance. For the thesis usually occupies the
field of general debate, not referring to any assigned person,
but simply taking a typical course of exposition, as of any
person whatsoever, by consideration of such things only as
are inherent in the subject matter. Thus when we analyze the
advisability of marriage, we speak not with reference to such
and such an one, as Pericles or Alcibiades, nor to one in
such and such circumstances, time of life, or fortune; but
subtracting all these, we shall consider simply the subject in
itself, making our analysis of what is inherent in that, i.e.,
whether this should be done by anybody whatsoever because
such and such are the results for those who do so; whereas if
we take a definite person and circumstances, and thus make
our exposition of reasons, it will be not a thesis, but an
hypothesis.

Some theses are political, some not. Political are such as
fall within common considerations, e.g., the advisability of
studying oratory, etc.; unpolitical are such as are peculiar
to a certain field of knowledge and proper to those versed in
it, e.g., whether the heavens are spherical, whether there
are many worlds, whether the sun is a fire. These suit the
philosophers; the others are the exercises of the rhetors. Some
have called the latter practical, the former theoretical; for
action underlies the former, whereas the goal of the latter is
theory.

The thesis differs from the commonplace in that the commonplace
is the amplification of a subject matter admitted, whereas the
thesis is an inquiry into a matter still in doubt. Some theses
are simple, others relative, others twofold: if we discuss
the advisability of marriage, simple; if the advisability of
marriage for a king, relative; if we discuss whether it is
better to contend in games than to farm, twofold, for we must
dissuade from the one and persuade to the other.

Theses are determined by the so-called final headings: justice,
expediency, possibility, propriety; e.g., that it is just
to marry and make to life the contribution of life itself;
that it is expedient, as bringing many consolations; that
it is possible by analogy; that it is fitting, as showing a
disposition not savage. Thus for your constructive argument;
your destructive will be from the opposites. You will refute
also whatever theses may have been found on the other side. At
the end, exhortations and the common moral habits of mankind.

INTRODUCING A BILL

Some include in their exercises the introduction of a bill. And
since in practise lawmaking and the categories falling within
it constitute a (separate) study, they make this distinction.
In practise there is a (particular) circumstance; in an
exercise there is not; e.g., if “in dearth of necessaries it
is proposed that governmental positions be put on sale,” you
have an occasion in the dearth; in an exercise there is none,
but simply a proposal to put governmental positions on sale,
without occasion or other circumstance.

It is determined as evident, just, legal, expedient, possible,
proper; evident, as in Demosthenes “but that this is just is
simple and evident for all to know and learn”; legal, as when
we say “it is contrary to the ancient laws”; just, as when we
say “it is contrary to nature and morals”; expedient, as when
we say “nor can it be done”; proper, as when we say “it hurts
our reputation.”

Arid, impersonal as arithmetic, pedantically over-classified, sometimes
inconsistent, these rules[64] are nevertheless illuminating. They expose
sophistic oratory. The patterns set forth for boys are recognizably the
patterns of the public oratory of men. Such higher attainment as might
come with experience was not in composition. In composition adult oratory
too, as well as these elementary exercises, was feeble at the source. For
lack of animating conception and advancing urgency of thought, it eddied
in forms. It is the historic demonstration of the doom of an oratory of
themes. The resounding reputations so expertly cultivated for themselves
time has reduced to absurdity. Hippodromus, Mark, Polemo, Scopelian—which
of the beadroll of Philostratus is even the echo of an echo?

d. ELABORATION OF STYLE

The long reign of sophistic reduced rhetoric to style.[65] That this was
the preoccupation even of the earlier sophistic we may guess from the
derision of the _Phædrus_ and from other references.[66]

And there is also Polus, who has schools of diplasiology and
gnomology and eikonology, and who teaches in them the words of
which Licymnius made him a present; they were to give a polish.
_Phædrus_, 267, Jowett’s translation.

The wider scope demanded by Aristotle’s different conception is
recognized in the traditional fivefold division[67] found in Cicero and
Quintilian. This division, which has such validity as to be essential
for securing the educational values proposed by the ancients, seems to
have been inactive from Quintilian on to the fall of Rome.[68] That the
limitation to style impoverishes rhetoric and impairs even the study of
style itself is evident in the sophistic period and is confirmed in the
medieval.

Incidentally, the focus on style contributed to the confusion of rhetoric
with poetic.[69] Neither being conceived often in its larger aspects of
movement, both being studied habitually for words and sentences, the
distinction between the two was the more easily blurred. Here poetry
had the more to lose. The use of poetic diction to decorate oratory
must have confirmed the tendency to conceive poetic itself as an art of
decoration.

But the main results of giving to style a monopoly are the cultivation
of literary flavor, with conformity to past usage, and the forcing of
figure and rhythm. The style inevitably acquired by those who seek style
is decorative and elaborate. In order to sound literary, the orator
is impelled both to depart from common speech and to force his note.
Devices valuable in revision, to clarify and impress a message, become
artificial in practise and unduly elaborated in theory by being pursued
for themselves.

(1) Literary Allusion and Archaism

The preoccupation that seized any opportunity for “Medics”[70] led to
frequent literary allusions. Allusion is a legitimate, sometimes an
important, means of heightening eloquence. Reviving old associations by
familiar words and rhythms, it helps to suggest a mood or intensify an
appeal.

Who is this that cometh from Domrémy? Who is she in bloody
coronation robes from Rheims? Who is she that cometh with
blackened flesh from walking the furnaces of Rouen? De Quincey,
_Joan of Arc_, last paragraph.

But the sophists used this form of suggestion so incontinently, and often
so conventionally,[71] as to betray an anxiety to sound literary.

The same anxiety led to their frequent use of obsolescent words. Archaism
became an habitual form of decoration. They borrowed the language
of Demosthenes to welcome a proconsul and win from him some otiose
appointment, or played upon an audience to capture its applause for
literary tone. “Atticism” was often little more than pride in a highly
sanctioned diction. The aim of the sophists was not to model their
composition on Demosthenes, still less on the restrained habit of Lysias,
but to borrow from them words enough to give antique flavor. Presuming to
be apostles of Hellenism, they were anxious to sound traditional. That
they often thereby became stilted is early evidence that this conception
of elegance is false.[72]

(2) Decorative Imagery

Metaphor, which is a reliance of all popular oratory, seldom has in
sophistic the suggestiveness of fresh observation. Rather the sophist
relied on far-fetching or on the abundance of his literary stock.[73]
“Living tombs,” said of vultures, is ascribed to Gorgias by the treatise
_On the Sublime_,[74] and passed on through the schools. If Athens
was “the eye of Greece,” another city might be “the eye of Asia.”
Sophistic metaphor generally lacks vitality. That it should achieve
so little imaginative suggestion is a clear sign of artificiality. No
less conventional and decorative are the frequent similes. They are
more sophistic only in being more elaborate. In both cases it is not
the imagery that is sophistic; it is the straining, or the conventional
decoration, or the dilation. For all its store of tropes, for all its
lavish use of them, sophistic is poor in active imagery. Quintilian’s
eighth book analyzes the heightening of diction which comes from
concreteness[75] (iii), amplification (iv), epigram (_sententia_, v),
and tropes (vi). Of these the second and third were the reliance of the
sophists. The first they neglected; the fourth they had conventionalized.

(3) Balance

Imagery, what the ancients called trope, covers all that is usually
meant by the term _figure_ in modern use. Ancient manuals and their
medieval derivatives generally use _figures_ to mean typical adaptations
of sentence movement. These are minutely classified even in the older
rhetoric. The treatise _Ad Herennium_,[76] which does not distinguish
them from tropes, enumerates sixty-one and groups them by the traditional
twofold division followed by Quintilian: _figuræ sententiarum_ (σχήματα
διανοίας), and _figuræ verborum_ (σχήματα λέξεως). Quintilian (IX),
distinguishing them from tropes, both reduces the number of figures
and by grouping simplifies the analysis. Of _figuræ sententiarum_ he
enumerates twelve.[77] _Figuræ verborum_ he groups as: (1) variations
of syntax, (2) modes of iteration, (3) word-play, (4) balance and
antithesis. The sophists especially cultivated these figures, most of
all the last, those forms of balance which were traditionally called the
figures of Gorgias (Γοργίεια σχήματα).[78]

Balance, as an obvious way of marking a comparison or a contrast, is so
familiar in every language and in every period as hardly to be thought
of as a figure. It becomes a figure by becoming a preoccupation; and the
preoccupation, evident in certain modern literary periods, has never been
stronger than in sophistic. The sophists pursued balance with such zeal
as to display its typical faults of padding and superficiality. A habit
of balance tends to slip in here and there a makeweight of mere words,
or to force the sense into the form. Over-balancing, sophistic shows
abundantly, invites false balance. It is the way not to precision, but to
epigram.

Description of the several forms of balance distinguished by sophistic
cannot go far without examples. The only sufficient examples must be
sought in Greek and Latin; for the sophistic refinements often depend
upon the recurrence of inflections or upon transpositions possible only
in a language that is highly inflected. Modern languages depend so much
less on inflection that they chime less readily and can transpose for
symmetry sometimes only by more conspicuous violation of normal sentence
order. Nevertheless some of the sophistic forms of balance, with other
figures of words, can be exhibited accurately, and the character and
effect of them all can be generally suggested, by English examples. Both
the charm and the danger of the ancient figures are exemplified by De
Quincey in what he called “impassioned prose.”

De Quincey’s encomium _Joan of Arc_, insistent in apostrophe, has one
hyperbole that might have been uttered by Polemo or Scopelian. “The
graves that had closed sixty years ago seemed to fly open in sympathy
with a sorrow that echoed their own.” His alliteration, too, often
suggests the same anxiety to enhance. In the ecphrasis on the forest and
fountain of Domrémy (paragraph 12), and again in the corresponding one
toward the close, he is more delicate. On the other hand he uses with
sophistic fondness the device of a carrying iteration. The encomium opens:

What is to be thought of _her_? What is to be thought of the
poor shepherd girl from the hills and forests of Lorraine,
that—like the Hebrew shepherd boy from the hills and forests
of Judea—rose suddenly out of the quiet, out of the safety,
out of the religious inspiration rooted deep in pastoral
solitudes, to a station in the van of armies, and to the more
perilous station at the right hand of kings?[79]

An even more marked example is the paragraph next to the last. Its
opening and its close are as follows:

The shepherd girl that had delivered France—she, from her
dungeon, she, from her baiting at the stake, she, from her
duel with fire, as she entered her last dream—saw Domrémy,
saw the fountain of Domrémy, saw the pomp of forests in which
her childhood had wandered.... For all, except this comfort
from her farewell dream, she had died—died amidst the tears
of ten thousand enemies—died amidst the drums and trumpets of
armies—died amidst peals redoubling upon peals, volleys upon
volleys, from the saluting clarions of martyrs.

There are few more striking examples of a value in iteration much sought
by the sophists, its carrying on to a climax. Refrain carrying to climax
is used at greater length, and with finer balances and allusions, in the
twenty-eighth paragraph of _The English Mail-Coach_.

The situation here contemplated exposes a dreadful ulcer,
lurking far down in the depths of human nature. It is not that
men generally are summoned to face such awful trials; but
potentially, and in shadowy outline, such a trial is moving
subterraneously in perhaps all men’s natures. Upon the secret
mirror of our dreams such a trial is darkly projected, perhaps,
to every one of us. That dream so familiar to childhood, of
meeting a lion, and, through languishing prostration in hope
and the energies of hope, that constant sequel of lying down
before the lion, publishes the secret frailty of human nature,
reveals its deep-seated falsehood to itself, records its
abysmal treachery. Perhaps not one of us escapes that dream;
perhaps, as by some sorrowful doom of man, that dream repeats
for every one of us, through every generation, the original
temptation in Eden. Every one of us, in this dream, has a bait
offered to the infirm places of his own individual will; once
again a snare is presented for tempting him into captivity to
a luxury of ruin; once again, as in aboriginal Paradise, the
man falls by his own choice; again, by infinite iteration, the
ancient earth groans to heaven, through her secret caves, over
the weakness of her child: “Nature, from her seat, sighing
through all her works,” again “gives signs of woe that all is
lost”; and again the counter sigh is repeated to the sorrowing
heavens for the endless rebellion against God. It is not
without probability that in the world of dreams every one of
us ratifies for himself the original transgression. In dreams,
perhaps under some secret conflict of the midnight sleeper,
lighted up to the consciousness at the time, but darkened to
the memory as soon as all is finished, each several child of
our mysterious race completes for himself the treason of the
aboriginal fall.

Whether De Quincey’s reading of Greek may have dwelt too long on
Isocrates is less important than that his devices of style spring from
similar preoccupations. The balances of Sir Thomas Browne, whose style he
tells us that he studied, have none of this sophistic chiming and oral
dilation. De Quincey reminds us of the sophists because he is a sophist.
Sophistic was not extinguished with the Roman Empire; and De Quincey’s
style has marked family traits. Thus it is easy to detach many suggestive
examples of the Gorgian figures, balances used not for clearness,
but generally for emotional emphasis and sometimes for emotional
expansiveness.

No! for her voice was then silent;
no! for her feet were dust.

_Joan of Arc_, 1.

The moments were numbered;
the strife was finished;
the vision was closed.

_The English Mail-Coach_, last paragraph.

These are simple balances. “Which was heaven’s vicegerent, and which the
creature of hell” marks the antithesis by reverse balance (_chiasmus_).
The following are enhanced by alliteration:

Flower nor bud, bell nor blossom, would ever bloom for her.
_Joan of Arc_, 2.

It was not wonderful that in such a haunted solitude, with such
a haunted heart, Joanna should see angelic visions, and hear
angelic voices. _Ibid._, 10.

Nor does De Quincey’s refinement stop there. The following balances have
antithesis, alliteration, chiasmus, hyperbaton. The first varies its
contrasting rhythms; the second leads up to the climax quoted above (“For
all, except this comfort”).

Bishop of Beauvais! thy victim died in fire upon a
scaffold—thou upon a down bed. But, for the departing minutes
of life, both are oftentimes alike. At the farewell crisis,
when the gates of death are opening, and flesh is resting from
its struggles, oftentimes the tortured and the torturer have
the same truce from carnal torment; both sink together into
sleep; together both sometimes kindle into dreams. _Joan of
Arc_, 30.

The storm was weathered; the skirts even of that mighty storm
were drawing off. The blood that she was to reckon for had been
exacted; the tears that she was to shed in secret had been
paid to the last. The hatred to herself in all eyes had been
faced steadily, had been suffered, had been survived. And in
her last fight upon the scaffold she had triumphed gloriously;
victoriously she had tasted the stings of death. _Ibid._, 31.

The sophistic marking of balance by rime (_homœoteleuton_), easy in Greek
or Latin through the recurrence of inflectional endings, is so forced
in English as to be very rare and in very bad taste. Word-play, on the
other hand, has always been one of the commonest devices for enhancing
balance into epigram. “Figures do not lie. The trouble with statistics
is not that figures lie, but that liars figure.” Paronomasia is not
sophistic; but, like other jingles, it attracted the sophists too much,
as to-day it attracts Mr. Chesterton and Mr. Bernard Shaw.

(4) _Clausula_

Balance is only one mode of rhythm. The sophists were so preoccupied
with it as often to risk monotony. For though they boasted of variety,
they were too fond of certain rhythms, and too anxious to mark them,
to achieve much flexibility. Their idea of aptness as conformity to an
assumed character or occasion led them rather to cast a whole passage in
one stylistic pattern.

Next to the perfecting of balances, they studied most attentively
sentence cadences.[80] Of _clausulæ_, as of other effects of style,
they had a classified store for selection. Though we find it hard to
follow them here, and impossible to translate their _clausulæ_ in terms
of English stress rhythms, we are not warranted in dismissing their
studies of rhythm as idle. True, they often overdid rhythm as they
overdid technic in general; but English prose has rarely been in danger
of this excess, and in particular it has been surest with those who have
controlled cadence. Sentence emphasis is the clue to mastery of sentence
movement. Its greater masters, modern as well as ancient, have grasped
this not only as logic, but as cadence. The flaw in sophistic rhythms
is their emptiness, the pursuit of them for themselves. The difference
between the sounding _clausula_ of dilation and the solving _clausula_
of mounting emotion can be heard in the same English sophist. All the
following sentences conclude well for the ear; but whereas the first two
are prolonged by decorative additions, the last is an ascending period.

The boy rose to a splendour and a noonday prosperity, both
personal and public, that rang through the records of his
people, and became a by-word amongst his posterity for a
thousand years, until the sceptre was departing from Judah.
_Joan of Arc_, 1.

How if it should be some Marie Antoinette, the widowed queen,
coming forward on the scaffold, and presenting to the morning
air her head, turned grey by sorrow, daughter of Cæsars
kneeling down humbly to kiss the guillotine, as one that
worships death? _Ibid._, 26.

Still in the confidence of children that tread without fear
every chamber in their father’s house, and to whom no door is
closed, we, in that Sabbatic vision which sometimes is revealed
for an hour upon nights like this, ascend with easy steps from
the sorrow-stricken fields of earth upwards to the sandals of
God. _The English Mail-Coach_, 32.

(5) Vehemence

“Scopelian, when one of Polemo’s pupils said that his instrument was the
drum, picked up the sneer with ‘the drum, indeed; but it is the shield
of Ajax.’”[81] The passage is characteristic not only in allusion,
figure, and ingenuity, but in grandiloquence. It is itself a drum-beat;
and the sophistic harmony was fond of drums. The stylistic effects most
sought are those most marked.[82] Scott’s deprecatory “The big bow-wow
strain I can do myself”[83] has neither this aim nor this attitude. He
is generously wishing that he could control the quiet sureness of Jane
Austen. A sophist was complacent in his own style. He was anxious only
that his bow-wow should always be big, or, to return to Scopelian’s more
precise figure, that the audience should always hear the drum. It is
the drum that marks sophistic. Few of the devices of style so carefully
cultivated are sophistic in themselves. What is sophistic is the use
of them all, as from a classified store, in excess and with insistent
emphasis. The sophistic style cannot be escaped. It is always saying,
Here is style.

Such rhetoric is not worthless. Some of its technical skill is available
for better ends. But as other arts, to survive and progress, must be
more than technics, so especially the art of words cannot go far without
being animated by power of conception.[84] Technic is promotive and
educative only as it gives free course to motive and vision. As a system
of education, therefore, sophistic was hollow. This is the issue raised
by Plato; and he is justified by history. Sophistic could use its many
devices only to exhibit skill, not to guide either the state or the
individual. The only force that could revive rhetoric with the lore older
than this spent tradition was a new motive.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _De orat._ I. xiii.

[2] 503.

[3] 312.

[4] 273-4.

[5] ARP Chapter II, especially pages 9-11.

[6] Cf. Tacitus, _Dialogus_, in ARP 88.

[7] ARP 14-17.

[8] See Hubbell.

[9] This defect is discerned as early as the _Phædrus_ (264, seq.); but
Socrates does not carry the remedy beyond logical analysis into cogency
of sequence.

[10] The term _second sophistic_ is generally applied to the Greek
rhetoric and oratory of the second, third, and fourth Christian
centuries, and is also applicable to the Latin. Already defined as a
tendency in the first century (ARP IV. ii), it is reviewed at that point
by H. von Arnim in the introduction to _Leben und Werke des Dio von
Prusa_, Berlin, 1898. The second century is reviewed more specifically
by Boulanger. Wright’s introduction provides the best summary guide and
bibliography for English readers. The studies of the influence of the
second sophistic on the Christian orators of this period (see the list at
the head of this chapter) review and define sophistic more precisely and
more significantly than the general works cited in their bibliographies.
But E. Norden’s _Die antike Kunstprosa_ and E. Rohde’s _Der griechische
Roman_ are still suggestive.

[11] Written between 230 and 238. For the dates of the orators celebrated
by Philostratus see Wright, xxii-xl.

[12] I. 9 (30). Substantially the same things, including the public
honors, are recorded of Scopelian, I. 21 (84), and of Polemo, I. 25 (112).

[13] See the general histories, Guignet, 85, and Campbell’s summary,
pages 7-10.

[14] Boulanger, 16, 57; Méridier, 46-47. “By the middle of the first
century A. D., Ephesus, Smyrna, Miletus, and Mytilene were become world
centers for the instruction of rhetoric.” Campbell, 10.

[15] “L’abandon du point de vue historique, qui serait condamnable
ailleurs, devient légitime pour la sophistique, puisque toute évolution y
est rendue impossible par l’existence d’un canon oratoire réligieusement
observé. Libanios s’applique à copier Aristide, qui croit être un
imitateur fidèle de Démosthène.” Méridier, page vi.

[16] “Un public qui ne se lasse pas de faire éternellement sa classe de
rhétorique.” Boulanger, 271.

[17] See προγυμνάσματα under section c below, and, in the index to ARP,
_declamatio_.

[18] The references are to sections and, in parenthesis, to Wright’s
pages.

[19] Cf. Ælius Aristides XXIX and XXX D, summarized by Boulanger, 275.

[20] ARP Chapter IV. ii. 90-93.

[21] xxvii, page 12. A; quoted by Guignet, 46.

[22] Petit de Julleville, _L’école d’Athènes au quatrième siècle_, 105.
Méridier arrives at the same estimate: “Or, dans aucun de ces exercices
oratoires, le sophiste n’a à compter avec la réalité.... La question de
fond importe peu; elle sert simplement de thème, de point de départ,
pour ne pas dire de prétexte.... La grande affaire, c’est de donner au
public l’impression d’un tour de force surprenant exécuté sans difficulté
apparente. Le sophiste est proprement un virtuose qui est capable de
jouer, sur n’importe quel thème, des variations brillantes. Indifférent
aux sujets qu’il traite, il s’applique à multiplier les difficultés de la
forme.” 9. Pliny’s account of Isæus Rhetor (ARP 95) gives substantially
the same impression.

[23] I. 9 (32).

[24] E.g., _Demonax_, 33, 36; _Rhetorum præceptor_, 17.

[25] II. 15 (244).

[26] “Troics” Τρωικά, which Philostratus traces back to Hippias of
Elis (I. 11 (36)), seem more like ἠθοποιίαι (ARP 68, 71, 187, and see
Hermogenes below, section c). The Τρωικά of Dio Chrysostom are an exercise
of another sort, the refutation of a classic (Boulanger, 249). It is
discussed by Von Arnim, 166.

Further on μελέτη see Boulanger, Chapter ii, section v; Méridier, Chapter
i.

[27] Introduction (8).

[28] II. 9 (222).

[29] I. 24 (102); II. 15 (244). Several of the sophists celebrated by
Philostratus withdrew for a brief meditation after receiving the theme:
Scopelian, I. 21 (82); Dionysius of Miletus and Isæus, I. 22 (90);
Polemo, I. 25 (120). Apollonius of Naucratis, he complains, took too
long. II, 19 (254).

[30] ARP 95.

[31] The sound ancient doctrine of _facilitas_ is most definitely
formulated by Quintilian in his tenth book (see ARP 79). It is different
not only in detail, but in its conception and method.

[32] See _memoria_ in the index to ARP.

[33] I. 25 (130).

[34] I. 21 (80-82).

[35] I. 8 (28).

[36] II. 8 (212), 10 (226).

[37] “Polemo was so arrogant that he conversed with cities as his
inferiors, emperors as not his superiors, and the gods as his equals.” I.
25 (114).

[38] See _amplification_ in the index to ARP.

[39] E.g., see _chria_ in the index to ARP and in section c below.

[40] Méridier, 41-44, and Chapter ix; Guignet, Chapter ix; Burgess, 201;
Ameringer, 72, 78, 87; and the “Tempe” and “Memnon” of Dio Chrysostom.
For restraint of this form of dilation by Augustine see Barry, 246;
by Basil, Campbell, 128. For ἔκφρασις in the προγυμνάσματα see below,
section c.

Among his many sallies Lucian has inserted a sober warning: “Restraint in
description of mountains, walls, rivers, and the like is very important;
you must not give the impression that you are making a tasteless display
of word-painting, and expatiating independently while the history takes
care of itself.... You have the mighty Homer’s example in such a case....
If Parthenius, Euphorion, or Callimachus had been in his place, how many
lines do you suppose it would have taken to get the water to Tantalus’
lips; how many more to set Ixion spinning?” _Quomodo historia_, 57;
Fowler’s translation, II. 134.

[41] Orat. x, quoted by Guignet, 188. Hermogenes uses much the same
words. See below, section c.

[42] E.g., [Hippodromus] “recited an encomium on fair-speaking,
beginning with the peacock and showing how admiration makes him spread
his plumage aloft.” II. 27 (288). For this peacock see also Méridier, 144.

[43] ARP 168, 203, 218.

[44] ARP 100.

[45] The theme, which Lucian handles with biting conciseness, is at the
opening of _Quomodo historia_.

[46] ἡ συνθήκη λαμπρά I. 17 (50) (54). Συνθήκη here seems to be used
for σύνθεσις, and νόημα in the context to be equivalent to _sententia_,
as in I. 22 (90) of Dionysius of Miletus. If so, τάξις also, which in
the older rhetoric means _dispositio_, is restricted by Philostratus to
_compositio_. The latter, at any rate, is all that he ever discusses
specifically.

[47] Guignet, 214.

[48] Menander Rhetor, περὶ ἐπιδεικτικῶν, analyzed by Burgess, 110 seq.
Cf. Boulanger, 342, 363. See below, pages 30, 31.

[49] The same topics, indeed, are found in letters, anticipating the
medieval _dictamen_. See Guignet, _Les procédés épistolaires de St.
Grégoire de Nazianzen_, Paris, 1911 (added to the work previously cited).

[50] Miss Kennedy shows that the cramping of biography by encomiastic
pattern hampers Ammianus in imitating Tacitus, whose method is narrative
(_The Literary Work of Ammianus_, Chicago, 1912, pages 11-14).

[51] II., opening.

[52] Basil, _In Gordium_, 142 D-143 A, as translated by Campbell, 147.

[53] For προγυμνάσματα in a general sense see ARP 249.

[54] Sandys, _History of Classical Scholarship_, I. 311. Theon is quoted
by Walden, _The Universities of Ancient Greece_, 200-1, 205-10.

[55] E.g., there is a commentary on Aphthonius by the Byzantine John
Doxopater in the twelfth century, and an Amsterdam edition as late as
1665.

[56] “The most famous technical writer on rhetoric in the second century
... categories quoted by all the technical rhetoricians who succeeded
him.” Wright, xxxvi. See also Boulanger, 241; and Radermacher in
Pauly-Wissowa.

[57] My translation is from the Teubner text of Rabe, Leipzig, 1913,
pages 1-27.

[58] This section and the following remind both of the traditional
importance of narrative and description in oratory and of the general
confusion of poetic with rhetoric.

[59] The exercise is still included in the Jesuit Latin manual of
rhetoric, Kleutgen’s _Ars dicendi_ (1898), but is relegated to an
appendix.

[60] The topics for encomium of a person are analyzed by Burgess (120)
from Aphthonius, and by Méridier (15, 44, 226) and Burgess (120 seq.)
from Menander Rhetor. Menander distinguishes four kinds: simple encomium
(of one dead some time), funeral oration, monody, speech of consolation.
The topic _achievements_ might also be divided as of war and of peace, or
by virtues. That the topic _comparison_ (σύγκρισις) might be distributed,
as in Menander, Hermogenes admits below.

APHTHONIUS MENANDER

I. prologue

{ 1. nationality native country
II. race { 2. native city race
{ 3. ancestors birth
{ 4. parents nature

{ 1. pursuits education
III. education { 2. art pursuits
{ 3. laws

{ 1. of soul { (a) manliness
{ { (b) judgment
{
IV. achievements { { (a) beauty
(the main topic) { 2. of body { (b) speed achievements
{ { (c) strength
{
{ { (a) power
{ 3. of fortune { (b) wealth
{ (c) friends

V. comparison comparison with
each of the
foregoing

VI. epilogue

[61] For the relation of encomium to poetry, see Burgess, 130.

[62] For ἠθοποιία and προσωποποιία see the index to ARP.

[63] See above, page 17.

[64] The other works of Hermogenes deal with _status_ (Περὶ στάσεων),
with _inventio_ (Περὶ εὑρέσεως), with the rationale of impressiveness
(Περὶ μεθόδου δεινότητος), with types of style (Περὶ ἰδεῶν). They show
him to be not altogether a pedant, nor incapable of style. He was
frequently commented, especially by the Byzantines. For modern comment
see, besides Radermacher in Pauly-Wissowa, Jæneke, _De statuum doctrina
ab Hermogene tradita_, Leipzig, 1904; Becker, _Hermogenes de rhythmo
oratorio_, Münster, 1896.

[65] See above, section A.

[66] See O. Navarre, _La rhétorique grecque avant Aristote_.

[67] ARP 21, 42, 64.

[68] Hermogenes, though he has a treatise on _inventio_ (εὕρεσις), and a
separate one on _status_ (στάσις), deviates the former into the formal
parts of _dispositio_ and still more widely into _elocutio_.

[69] ARP, 125-6, 229; Burgess, 166.

[70] See above, page 13.

[71] See the store classified by Burgess, 150.

[72] See Boulanger, 57; Méridier, 17; and St. Augustine on _integritas_,
below, page 65.

[73] “En principe, il fallait ‘bourrer’ sa matière du plus grand nombre
d’images possible, même quand rien n’y obligeait. En fait, on ne devait
donner asile dans ses écrits qu’à certaines images ... dont la nature et
le nombre étaient rigoureusement fixés.” Guignet, 132.

[74] iii.

[75] Quintilian’s use of the terms ἐνάργεια and φαντασία are among the
evidences that he remembered the vital counsels of Aristotle (see ARP 23,
127), though his own treatment of metaphor (VIII. vi. 4) is hardly vital.

[76] Long thought to be Cicero’s. The list of figures is given, pages
62-64, in Wilkins’s digest, section 5 of his introduction to Cicero’s _De
Oratore_.

[77] Interrogatio (rhetorical question), præsumptio (πρόληψις), dubitatio
(ἀπορία, with several modifications), simulatio (including παρρησία and
prosopopœia), apostrophe, sub oculos subjectio (ὑποτύπωσις, corresponding
to the trope evidentia), dissimulatio (εἰρωνεία, distinguished from the
trope ironia, and appearing also as ἀντίφρασις, confessio, concessio,
consensio), reticentia (ἀποσιώπησις, with interruptio and digressio),
imitatio (ἠθοποιία), pœnitentia, emphasis (also a trope), and finally
various forms of insinuation by hint and double meaning. Other figures,
as included by Rutilius Lupus and Celsus, Quintilian lists (IX. ii. 102),
but does not describe.

[78] For convenience of reference Quintilian’s grouping of _figuræ
verborum_ in IX. iii. may be tabulated as follows:—

Group 1, variations of syntax (3-27), such as hyperbaton.

Group 2, modes of iteration (28-65), figuræ per adjectionem; e.g.,
ἐπάνοδος (regressio), πολύπτωτον, μεταβολή, πλοκή, συνωνυμία, πλεονασμός,
διαλλαγή (with the accompanying syntactical variations, βραχυλογία,
ἀσύνδετον, πολυσύνδετον), and, most important, climax (κλῖμαξ, gradatio),
a term applied consistently to progressive iteration; related figuræ per
detractionem, συνεζευγμένον, παραδιαστολή (distinctio).

Group 3, word-play, paronomasia, annominatio (66-73), e.g., ἀντανάκλασις.

Group 4, balance and antithesis (74-86). Quintilian introduces these
Gorgian figures by saying: “Magnæ veteribus curæ fuit gratiam dicendi
paribus et contrariis acquirere. Gorgias in hoc immodicus, copiosus
ætate prima utique Isocrates fuit. Delectatus est his etiam M. Tullius”
(74), and proceeds (75) to divide balance into: πάρισον, ὁμοιοτέλευτον,
ὁμοιόπτωτον, ἰσόκωλον.

The Gorgian figures are analyzed and exemplified by Méridier, 33. 162;
Guignet, 106. Campbell includes them in a different classification,
more distinctive for his analysis, and is generally followed by Sr M.
Inviolata Barry, _St Augustine the orator, a study of the rhetorical
qualities of St. Augustine’s Sermones ad Populum_, Washington, 1924
(Catholic University of America Patristic Studies, VI). Sr Barry’s table,
pages 18-19, is useful for reference.

[79] Incidentally the comparison and contrast with David is carried out
much in the manner of a σύγκρισις.

[80] For Aristotle, Cicero, and Quintilian on sentence rhythm, see ARP
27, 28, 59-61, 79.

[81] Philostratus, I. 21 (84).

[82] See Méridier’s analysis (20) of the distinction made by Hermogenes
between true and false δεινότης.

[83] Diary, March 14, 1826.

[84] The classic formulation of this is the treatise _On the Sublime_,
viii.

CHAPTER II[1]

ST. AUGUSTINE ON PREACHING (_DE DOCTRINA CHRISTIANA_, IV)

With this elaborate pedagogical tradition a clean break is made by
St. Augustine. The fourth book of his _De doctrina christiana_[2] has
historical significance in the early years of the fifth century out of
all proportion to its size; for it begins rhetoric anew. It not only
ignores sophistic; it goes back over centuries of the lore of personal
triumph to the ancient idea of moving men to truth; and it gives to the
vital counsels of Cicero a new emphasis for the urgent tasks of preaching
the word of God.

Abstractly and in retrospect the very character of Christian preaching
seems necessarily to reject sophistic. But at the time this seemed
anything but inevitable. Sophistic was almost the only lore of public
speaking then active. It dominated criticism and education. The Greek
fathers Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory Nazianzen might expose its falsity
of conception; but they could not escape it. It had brought them up. Its
stylistic habits were ingrained in their expression. Augustine too had
been brought up on sophistic. Nor could he escape it. Again and again his
style rings with its tradition.[3] Not only had he learned it for good;
he had taught it. He had been himself, in Plutarch’s sense and Strabo’s,
a sophist. We must hasten to add that the great Christians of the fourth
century, if they could not escape sophistic, at least redeemed it by
curbing its extravagance and turning it to nobler uses. But Augustine did
much more. He set about recovering for the new generation of Christian
orators the true ancient rhetoric. He saw that for Christian preaching
sophistic must not only be curbed; it must be supplanted. Against the
background of his day his quiet, simple book, renouncing the balances and
figures of his other works without renouncing their fervor, is seen to be
a startling innovation.

Not the least striking trait of the innovation is its reserve. Augustine
does not attack sophistic as the Gregorys do; he ignores it. In Chapter
xxxi of Book II he had, indeed, mentioned it. Discussing there not
style, but matter, he had contrasted the necessary training in argument
with sophistic quibbling, and had then added, forecasting Book IV, that
superfluous stylistic ornament also is sophistic.

But training in argument on questions of all such kinds as
are to be investigated and resolved in sacred literature
is of the highest value; only we must beware of the lust
for quarrelling, and of the puerile display of skill in
disappointing an opponent.... This sort of quibbling conclusion
Scripture execrates, I think, in the text _Qui sophistice[4]
loquitur odibilis est_. Even though not quibbling, a speech
seeking verbal ornament beyond the bounds of responsibility to
subject matter (_gravitas_) is called sophistic. II. xxxi.

But an uninformed modern reader of Book IV would hardly be aware that
sophistic existed. No denunciation could be more scathing than this
silence. In Augustine’s view of Christian preaching sophistic simply has
no place. A good debater, instead of parrying he counters. He spends his
time on his own case. A good teacher, he tells his neophytes not what to
avoid, but what to do. He has so far renounced sophistic that he has no
concern to triumph. He wishes simply to teach sound rhetorical doctrine.
He achieves an extraordinary conciseness not so much by compression as by
undeviating straightforwardness.

A reader familiar with the times, however, will be reminded of sophistic
by many allusions. Single phrases or sentences some of them, a few more
extended, they all serve to illuminate by contrast the true rhetoric.

All these things, when they are taught by rhetors, are thought
great, bought at a great price, sold with great boasting. Such
boasting, I fear, I may suggest myself in speaking so; but I
had to answer those ill-educated men who think that our authors
are to be despised, not because they lack the eloquence which
such critics love too much, but because they do not use it for
display. vii.

[But an audience of Christian sobriety] will not be pleased
with that suave style in which though no wrong things are
said, right things slight and frail are adorned with foamy
circumlocution. xiv.

I think I have accomplished something not when I hear them
applauding, but when I see them weeping. xxiv.[5]

Display, inflation, thirst for applause—every reader of Augustine’s time
would recognize in these allusions a repudiation of sophistic.

For Augustine thinks that Christian preaching is to be learned best
from Christian preachers. As if in reply to Julian’s scornful “Let
them elucidate their Matthew and Luke,”[6] he recommends not only for
doctrine, but for rhetoric, the Epistles, the Prophets, and the Fathers,
and proceeds to analyze their style. The analysis, though based on the
current Latin version, is generally transferable to the Greek, since
it is much simpler than the classification set forth by sophistic. It
exhibits sentence movement simply in climax, period, balance—those
devices which are most easily appropriated and most useful. The general
ancient counsels of aptness and variety are applied specifically to
preaching. As to cadence (_clausula_), Augustine dispenses with all
subdivisions, and even makes bold to assert that it must sometimes be
sacrificed. Similarly omitting all classification of figures, he manages
to suggest in a few words what figures are for. In a word, he shows how
to learn from the Canon and the Fathers the rhetoric that is vital to
homiletic.

This rhetoric, not only simpler than sophistic, but quite different
in emphasis, is set forth in the terms of Cicero. Augustine has gone
back four and a half centuries to the days before _declamatio_. The
instruction that he draws from his analysis of Christian literature is
planned upon the “instruct, win, move” (_docere_, _delectare_, _movere_)
of _De oratore_ and upon the corresponding three typical styles (_genus
tenue_—_medium_—_grande_) of _Orator_.[7] Evidently Augustine had the
greater Cicero, not the lesser that sufficed for the Middle Age. He
neither quotes nor cites any other rhetorician; and though his doctrine
of aptness and of variety is common throughout the older rhetoric, for
this too he had no need to go beyond the master’s two great works.
Nor have any others been more persuasive as to imitation,[8] which is
Augustine’s controlling idea. This first Ciceronianism, too immediately
aware of the perverted imitation of style taught by sophists to fall into
the archaism and redundancy of later worship of Cicero, is a penetrative
recovery of Cicero’s larger meaning. Augustine’s application of the three
typical styles is more just and more practically distinct than Cicero’s
own. Would that all Ciceronians had been equally discerning!

TABULAR VIEW OF ST. AUGUSTINE’S _DE DOCTRINA CHRISTIANA_ IV

A. For learning to preach, models are more fruitful than rules i-v
B. Eminent models are offered by the literature of Christian
eloquence vi-viii
1. Christian eloquence not merely comparable with pagan,
but distinctive.
2. Analysis of _Romans_ v. especially of climax, period,
clauses, etc.
3. Analysis of _2 Corinth._ xi. 16, especially of variety.
4. Analysis of _Amos_ vi. especially of figures.
C. Christian preaching must fulfil all three typical tasks of
oratory summarized in Cicero’s _docere_, _delectare_,
_movere_ ix-xix
1. _docere_, subordinating even _integritas_ to clearness ix-xi
2. _delectare_, necessary as a means, never an end xii-xvii
3. _movere_, to carry assent into action xviii, xix
D. The three corresponding styles of oratory, Cicero’s
_tenue_, _medium_, _grande_, are exemplified in the Canon xx
1. _genus tenue_ (_submissum_) in _Galatians_ iv. 21 and iii.
15 as demanding trained reasoning and memory.
2. _genus medium_ (_temperatum_) in 1 _Timothy_ v, _Romans_
xii, xiii, as rhythmical, but with cadence often
sacrificed.
3. _genus grande_ in _2 Corinthians_ vi. 2, _Romans_ viii.
28, _Galatians_ iv. 10, the last without the usual
stylistic means.
E. They are also exemplified in St. Cyprian _Ad Cæcilium_ and
_De habitu virginum_, St. Ambrose _De Spiritu_ and _De
virginibus_ xxii
F. No one of the three can effectively be constant xxii, xxiii
G. Constancy is rather in the aim, which is always persuasion xxiv-xxvi
1. The speaker’s life is the greater means of persuasion
in the third style xxvii-xxviii
(Appended Note) The recital of borrowed sermons is permissible xxix
Conclusion, with reminder of prayer, in thanksgiving xxx, xxxi

The fourth book of the _De doctrina Christiana_ is specifically linked by
its proem to the preceding three as setting forth presentation (_modus
proferendi_). Books I-III have dealt with study of the subject matter
(_inventio_); Book IV is to deal with expression. Augustine thus makes
the traditional fivefold division twofold. _Inventio_, which under
sophistic had lapsed, he restores to its rightful place and gives it a
new application to the exegesis of Scripture. Of the remaining four left
to his second heading he discusses only style (_elocutio_). Delivery and
memory are mentioned incidentally; plan is omitted. The omission is not
negligent. The first chapter warns us not to expect a manual of rhetoric.
Nevertheless a modern student cannot help wishing that so suggestive
a treatise had both applied to preaching the ancient counsels as to
plan and exhibited the New Testament in this aspect. Thus to analyze
for imitation not only the style of the Pauline epistles, but their
cogency of order, would doubtless have made the work unduly extensive.
One hopes that seminarians of the fifth century were stimulated, and
that seminarians of the twentieth century will be stimulated, by the
example of the treatise itself to study _Romans_ not only for appeal, but
for cogency. Meantime Augustine’s fourth book remains one of the most
fruitful of all discussions of style in preaching.

Who dare say that the defenders of truth should be unarmed
against falsehood? While the proponents of error know the
art of winning an audience to good will, attention, and open
mind,[9] shall the proponents of truth remain ignorant? While
the [sophist] states facts concisely, clearly, plausibly,[10]
shall the preacher state them so that they are tedious to hear,
hard to understand, hard to believe? While the one attacks
truth and insinuates falsehood by fallacious argument, shall
the other have too little skill either to defend the true or to
refute the false? Shall the one, stirring his hearers to error,
urging them by the force of oratory, move them by terror, by
pity, by joy, by encouragement, and the other slowly and coldly
drowse for truth? ii.

But to learn such skill from rules, he goes on, is the way rather for
boys than for men who have immediately before them the urgent tasks of
preaching.

For eloquence will stick to such men, if they have the talent
of keenness and ardor, more easily through their reading and
hearing of the eloquent than through their following of the
rules of eloquence. Nor does the Church lack literature, even
outside the Canon established in the citadel of authority,
to imbue a capable man with its eloquence, even though his
mind be not on the manner but on the matter, provided he add
practise in writing, in dictating, finally also in composing
orally[11] what he feels according to the rule of piety and
faith. Besides, if such talent be lacking, either the rules of
rhetoric will not be grasped, or if by great labor some few of
them are partially grasped, they will be of no avail.... [Young
preachers] must beware of letting slip what they have to say
while they attend to saying it in good form. iii.

They must, indeed, know the principles of adaptation (iv), and develop
their expression as far as they can; but they will do so best by
imitation.

Whoever wishes to speak not only with wisdom, but with
eloquence.... I rather direct to read or hear the eloquent and
to imitate them by practise than advise to spend his time on
teachers of the art of rhetoric. v.

Expressed in modern terms, Augustine’s position is that rhetoric as a
classified body of doctrine is properly an undergraduate study. It is not
the best approach for seminarians because its method is analytical. The
young preacher, needing rather promotion than revision, will advance more
rapidly by imitation.

Starting from this principle, that the more fruitful study for learning
to preach is imitation of Christian eloquence, Augustine proceeds to show
(vi-viii) how distinctive is the eminence of such models and how repaying
to analysis. His vindication should be pondered by those who still permit
themselves to disparage without distinction the literary value of the New
Testament, and by those who, granting poetic to Ambrose, remain unaware
of his rhetoric.

At this point the question, perhaps, arises whether our
authors, whose divinely inspired writings constitute for
us a canon of most salutary authority, are to be called
philosophers[12] only, or also orators. To me and to those
who agree with what I am saying, the question is very easily
answered. For where I comprehend them, nothing can seem to me
either more philosophical or more eloquent. And all, I venture
to say, who rightly comprehend what they speak, comprehend at
the same time that they could not have spoken otherwise. For as
there is an eloquence becoming to youth, another to age, nor
can that be called eloquence which does not befit the character
of the speaker, so there is an eloquence becoming to men most
worthy of the highest authority and evidently inspired. Our
authors have spoken with such eloquence. No other is becoming
to them, nor theirs to others. For it is like themselves; and,
the more it rejects display, the more it ranges above others
not by inflation, but by cogency. Where on the other hand I do
not comprehend them, though their eloquence is less apparent
to me, I have no doubt that it is such as I find it where I
do comprehend. The very obscurity of inspired and salutary
utterances has been tinged with such eloquence that our minds
should be stimulated not only in study [of their meaning], but
in practise [of their art]. Indeed, if there were leisure,
all the virtues and graces of eloquence with which those are
inflated who put their style ahead of the style of our authors
not by greatness, but by distension, could be exhibited in the
sacred literature of those whom divine Providence has sent to
instruct us and to draw us from this corrupt world to the world
of happiness. But what delights me more than I can say in their
eloquence is not what it has in common with pagan orators and
poets. What I rather admire, what fills me with amazement, is
that the eloquence which we hear around us has so been used,
as it were through another eloquence of their own, as to be
neither deficient nor conspicuous. For it should be neither
condemned nor displayed; and they would have seemed to do the
one if they shunned it, the other if it became noticeable. Even
in those places where perhaps it is noticeable to experts, such
is the message that the words in which it is expressed seem
not to be sought by the speaker, but to subserve that message
naturally, as if one saw philosophy issuing from her own home
in the heart of the philosopher, and eloquence following as an
inseparable servant even when not called.[13] vi.

The vindication of an eloquence distinctly Christian has the more weight
because its doctrine of form and substance echoes from Cicero the best
ancient tradition. The older tradition had in Augustine’s time been so
overlaid that he could do no better service to rhetoric than to recall
it. In fact, Christian eloquence redeemed public speaking by reviving the
true persuasion.

The insistence on the Ciceronian doctrine that style is not separable
has a bearing more than historical. Not only for Augustine’s time, but
for any time, the truism must be reasserted. His iteration is more than
preoccupation with Cicero, more than repudiation of sophistic. It springs
from the cardinal importance of the truism for homiletic. In the pulpit
the sophistic heresy of art for art’s sake becomes intolerable.

Augustine’s next step (vii) is to support his general claims for
Christian eloquence, and to show how it may be studied, by analyzing
briefly three typical passages. In the first, _Romans_ v. 3-5, he
analyzes prose rhythm under the familiar heads of classical sentence
movement (_compositio_): phrases and subordinate clauses (_cæsa_),
coordinate clauses (_membra_), period (_circuitus_), climax (_gradatio_),
adding the equivalent Greek terms.[14]

RHYTHMICAL ANALYSIS OF _ROMANS_ V. 3, 4, 5

(1) καυχώμεθα ἐν ταῖς θλίψεσιν, (1) Gloriamur in tribulationibus,

(2) εἰδότες ὅτι ἡ θλῖψις ὑπομονὴν (2) scientes quod tribulatio
κατεργάζεται, patientiam operatur,

(3) ἡ δὲ ὑπομονὴ δοκιμήν, (3) patientiam autem probationem,

(4) ἡ δὲ δοκιμὴ ἐλπίδα, (4) probatio vero spem,

(5) ἡ δὲ ἐλπὶς οὐ καταισχύνει, (5) spes autem non confundit,

(6) ὅτι ἡ ἀγάπη τοῦ θεοῦ ἐκκέχυται (6) quia caritas Dei diffusa est
ἐν ταῖς καρδίαις ἡμῶν, in cordibus nostris,

(7) διὰ πνεύματος ἁγίου τοῦ (7) per Spiritum sanctum qui datus
δοθέντος ἡμῖν. est nobis.

The passage is short enough, and the sentence movement simple enough, to
be grasped readily. Its balance is striking without being monotonous,
and is reinforced by a linking iteration that leads to a climax.[15] He
is a wise teacher who begins with an instance so memorable. It must have
seized even more quickly a generation familiar with both the terms and
the method.

The next example, _2 Corinthians_ xi. 16-31, shows the same sentence
devices carried through a much longer reach, and is therefore used both
to reinforce the first and to add the importance of rhythmical variety.
The counsel of variety, though a commonplace of the older rhetoric, had
especial point by contrast with the sophistic fondness for trimming
and prolonging balances. Incidental to the exhibition of variety is a
reminder of aptness; and the analysis concludes:

Finally all this breathless passage is closed with a period of
two members.... But how after this impetus the brief statement
interposed comes to rest, and rests the reader, how apt it is
and how charming, can hardly be said. vii.

The analysis of the third example, _Amos_ vi. 1-6, leads the study to
longer and more sustained rhythmical reaches. Lest it seem the more
difficult in the more figurative version of the Septuagint, Augustine
quotes it “as translated from the Hebrew into Latin style through the
interpretation of the priest Jerome, expert in both languages.”

ANALYSIS OF _AMOS_ VI. 1-6

(1) Woe to them that are at ease (1) Væ qui opulenti estis in
in Zion and trust in the Sion et confiditis in
mountains of Samaria, monte Samariæ, optimates,
which are named chief capita populorum,
of the nations, to whom ingredientes pompatice
the house of Israel came! domum Israel;

(2) Pass ye unto Calneh, and (2) transite in Chalanne et
see; and from thence go videte, et ite inde in
ye to Hamath the great: Emath magnam, et descendite
then go down to Gath of in Geth Palæstinorum,
the Philistines: be they et ad optima
better than these kingdoms? quæque regna horum, si
or their border latior terminus eorum
greater than your border? termino vestro est:

(3) Ye that put away the evil (3) qui separati estis in diem
day, and cause the seat malum, et adpropinquatis
of violence to come near; solio iniquitatis;

(4) That lie upon beds of ivory, (4) qui dormitis in lectis eburneis,
and stretch themselves et lascivitis in stratis
upon their couches, and vestris; qui comeditis
eat the lambs out of the agnum de grege, et vitulos
flock, and the calves out de medio armenti;
of the midst of the stall;

(5) That chant to the sound of (5) qui canitis ad vocem psalterii:
the viol,

(6) and invent to themselves (6) sicut David putaverunt se
instruments of musick, habere vasa cantici,
like David; that drink bibentes in phialis vinum,
wine in bowls, and anoint et optimo unguento
themselves with the chief delibuti;
ointments:

(7) but they are not grieved for (7) et nihil patiebantur super
the affliction of Joseph. contritione Joseph.

Much more urgent, leaping to attack, rising, prolonging, varying,
subsiding to a pregnant close, the prophecy widens the conception of
rhythmical range. Marking the rhythms briefly, Augustine uses it also to
show the oratorical force of figures.[16] Thus a few pages of analysis
are made to yield wide and definite suggestion. This, perhaps, is their
outstanding merit; while they show the student what to look for, they
invite him to go on for himself. But the pedagogical achievement does
not stop there. The professor of rhetoric has seen that rhetorical
analysis must be simplified, and that it must be made progressive.
Where else shall we find so much drawn from three analyses? The first
reduces the complicated lore of rhythm to its essentials. The second,
reinforcing and extending these, dwells upon aptness as a corrective of
rhetorical zeal, and as a constructive principle. The third, quoting
rhythms still more urgent with emotion, passes to the emotional value
of concrete words. To bring the over-classified lore of sophistic back
to the simplicity of Aristotle was a service not only to homiletic, but
to all rhetoric. A greater service was to substitute for the static
and formalized pedagogy of the day a vital order. Augustine had been
doubtless a popular professor; Christianity made him a great teacher.

Pedagogically, therefore, even his incidental definitions are worth
noticing. That the function of grammar is traditionally to impart
correctness of speech (iii) is used to support the contention that even
this elementary skill comes best in fact from imitation. The period
(vii) is defined so as to throw the emphasis on delivery. Its “clauses
are suspended by the speaker’s voice until it is concluded at the end.”
Therefore it “cannot have fewer than two clauses.” So he points out in
the passage above from _Amos_ that the rhythm is available for delivery
(_in potestate pronuntiantis_) either as a series of six or as three
pairs, and that the latter is more beautiful. So he suggests limiting
analysis to give room for oral interpretation.

This same passage which we have set as an example can be used
to show other things relevant to the rules of eloquence. But a
good hearer is not so much instructed by discussion in detail
as he is kindled by ardent delivery. vii.

The next and longest section (ix-xix) is based on Cicero’s “inform,
please, move” (_docere_, _delectare_, _movere_). Distinguishing each of
these tasks clearly, Augustine is at the same time careful to unite
them, by progressively iterative transitions, in the single and constant
task of persuasion. In exposition (_docere_) clearness may demand the use
of popular expressions. What avails correctness in a diction that is not
understood?

He who teaches will rather avoid all words that do not teach.
If he can find correct words that are understood, he will
choose those; if he cannot, whether because they do not exist
or because they do not occur to him at the time, he will use
even words that are less correct, provided only the thing
itself be taught and learned correctly. ix.

The correctness (_integritas_) of diction boasted by the sophists, and
carried by them even to the pedantry of archaism, is here faced squarely.
The assertion that it must sometimes be sacrificed, the making of
clearness absolutely paramount, is the bolder at a time when Christian
preaching was not yet recognized as having secure command of elegance.
Unmistakable clearness, Augustine goes on, is so much more important in
preaching than in discussions permitting question and answer that the
speaker must be quick to help unspoken difficulties.

For a crowd eager to grasp will show by its movement whether it
has understood; and until it has given this signal the subject
must be turned over and over by various ways of expressing it—a
resource beyond the power of those who deliver speeches written
out and memorized.[17] x.

No warrant here, he adds (xi), for dilation beyond the demands of
clearness, but good warrant for making instruction pleasant and appealing
in order to hold attention. Passing thus to the two other tasks of
oratory, he quotes (xii) Cicero’s “to instruct is of necessity, to
please is for interest, to move is for victory.”[18] The three are
then both carefully distinguished and shown to be a sort of geometrical
progression. The first is first of necessity. It must be mastered; but
it is rarely sufficient. To supply the lack, the second demands more
rhetoric by demanding further adaptation to the audience; but it too
must remain insufficient. So the third task, to move, is not merely the
third item in a classification; it is the final stage in a progress.
That progress is increasingly emotional. The last stage demands not only
all the rhetoric of the preceding, but also the art of vivid imagery[19]
and of urgent application. So Augustine arrives at one of those linking
summaries which constitute almost a refrain.

Therefore the eloquence of the Church, when it seeks to have
something done, must not only explain to instruct and please to
hold, but also move to win. xiii.

The next chapter (xiv) warns against resting in the second stage.[20] To
make the pleasing of the audience an end in itself is the typical vice
of sophistic. If preaching tolerates it, “the time will come when they
will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they
heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears.” Augustine quotes,
not these words of St. Paul, but Jeremiah, and rises to denunciation
of mere pleasing. “Far from us be that madness.” One of Cyprian’s rare
descriptive passages is adduced to show how “the wholesomeness of
Christian preaching has recalled his diction from [sophistic] redundancy
and held it to a graver eloquence of less display.” As the ultimate
objection to the sophistic ideal is moral, so is the preacher’s ultimate
resource. Since his strength is derived from a source deeper than human
skill, his best preparation is prayer. Augustine is not above enforcing
this reminder by playing upon the words _orare_, _orator_, _oratio_.
Nevertheless human skill is to be cultivated. Prayer itself proves the
folly (xvi) of making no other preparation. He who abjures human lore of
preaching because God gives us our messages might equally well abjure
prayer because God knows us and our needs. The Pauline counsels specify
how Timothy should preach. As God heals through doctors and medicines, so
he gives the gospel to men by men and through man.

The transition (xvii) to the final task of moving men to action is
another full and explicit iteration of all three, and at the same time
a preparation for the next section on the corresponding three typical
styles. Since the subject matter of preaching is always great, at least
in implication (xviii), does it not always demand a great style? No; for
a great matter (xix) may at the time rather demand exposition; and this
in turn demands a restrained style. Again, a great matter may at the time
rather demand praise or blame; and here enters the second task of so
adapting the style as to win sympathy.

But when something ought to be done, and we are talking to
those who ought to do it and will not, then the great subject
is to be expressed greatly and in such wise as to bend their
minds.... What subject is greater than God? Is it therefore
not a subject for instruction? Or how can any one expounding
the unity of the Trinity do it except by confining himself to
exposition, that so difficult a distinction may as far as is
possible be understood? Is ornament demanded here, and not
rather argument?[21] Is there here something that the audience
is to be moved to do, and not rather something that it is to
be taught to learn? Again, when God is praised in himself or
in his works, what a vision of beautiful and splendid diction
rises before any one praising as well as he can him whom no one
praises aright and no one fails to praise in some way or other!
But if God be not worshipped, or if idols be worshipped with
him or even in his stead, whether dæmons or any other created
being, then to meet so great an evil, and from this evil to
save men, the preaching too must be great. xix.

Augustine has passed (xvii-xix) from Cicero’s three tasks of oratory
to his three typical styles by applying to the preacher Cicero’s
definition of the orator: “He, then, shall be called eloquent who can
speak small things quietly, larger things proportionally, great things
greatly.”[22] Thus the three styles are _genus submissum_ (or _tenue_),
_genus temperatum_ (or _medium_), and _genus grande_. As in Cicero,
these correspond to _docere_, _delectare_, _movere_, and the second is
connected with panegyric.

Augustine now proceeds to exemplify the first style (xx) from _Galatians_
as calling for skill in reasoning and for a memory trained to bring in
objections and difficulties where they can best be met. This debater’s
memory is precisely the ancient _memoria_, the fifth of the traditional
parts of rhetoric. It seems to have fallen into abeyance under sophistic.
What the sophists boasted was verbal memory, which Augustine merely
mentions in his appendix as something quite different.[23]

The same chapter (xx) exemplifies the second, or median style from
_Timothy_ and _Romans_ as having the charm of aptness. Here Augustine
confronts squarely the sophistic habit of making rhythmical beauty
paramount and the pagan disparagement of Christian style. Some one may
find the cadence of _Romans_ xiii. 14 defective. Certainly it would
soothe the ear more rhythmically if the verb came last.

But a graver translator has preferred to keep the usual
word-order [and, he might have added, the logical emphasis].
How this sounds in the Greek used by the apostle they may see
whose expertness in that language goes so far. To me at least,
the word-order, which is the same as in our version, does not
seem there either to run rhythmically. Indeed, the stylistic
beauty (_ornatum_) which consists of rhythmical cadences is
defective, we must confess, in our authors. Whether this is
due to our versions, or whether, as I incline to think, the
authors deliberately avoided these occasions for applause, I
do not venture to affirm, since I confess that I do not know.
But this I know, that anyone who shall make their cadences
regular in the same rhythms—and this is done very easily by
shifting certain words that have equal force of meaning in the
new order—will recognize that these inspired men lacked none of
those things which he learned as great matters in the schools
of the grammarians or rhetors. Moreover, he will discover many
sorts of diction of so great beauty as to be beautiful even in
our customary language, much more in theirs, and never found in
the literature with which [the sophists] are inflated. But we
must beware lest the addition of rhythm detract from the weight
of inspired and grave sentences. Most learned Jerome does not
carry over into his translation the musical skill in which
rhythm is learned most fully, though our prophets did not lack
even that, as he shows in the Hebrew meters of some of them;
[and he gave this up] in order to keep truth to their words....
As in my own style, so far as I think I may do so modestly, I
do not neglect rhythmical cadences,[24] so in our authors they
please me the more because I find them there so rarely. xx.

The third, or great style, whether it be elegant or not, has for its
distinguishing quality the force of emotional appeal. The instances are
from _2 Corinthians_ vi and _Romans_ viii. _Romans_ is a long epistle,
not a sermon. Though it was read aloud, of course, it is essentially
a treatise, a philosophy of history. It is largely expository and
argumentative. Since it is addressed primarily to reflection and reason,
its main artistic reliance is on cogency of order. But even here
presentation does not remain purely logical. For persuasion it must rise
also emotionally. As we read in _Acts_ xvii the outline of the apostle’s
Areopagus speech, we discern beyond the logical chain of propositions
an expanding conception of the Life-giver. Who can doubt that the style
too, as in _Romans_, rose to _grande_? The traditional doctrine of
the peroration, easily as it may be abused, is only the expression in
rhetoric of the audience’s final demand and the speaker’s final answer.
That demand and that answer are emotional.

Adding _Galatians_ iv, Augustine says of it:

Although the whole epistle, except in the elegant last part, is
written in the plain style, nevertheless the apostle inserts
a certain passage of such moving force that it must be called
great even though it has no such embellishments as those just
cited.... Is there here either antithesis, or subordination for
climax, or rhythm in phrase, clause, or period? None the less
for that there is no cooling of the great emotion with which we
feel the style to glow. xx.

After quoting without further comment examples from Cyprian and Ambrose,
Augustine shows (xxii, xxiii) the need of variety. More even than other
forms of oratory, preaching seems to suffer from a stylistic level. No
one of the three styles, least of all the third, can effectively be
prolonged; the change from style to style gives relief; and subordination
of what might be heightened may enhance the emotion of what must be.
What must be heightened is what is to rouse the audience to action. So
the test of achievement in the third style is not applause, but tears
and change of life (xxiv). So also the end of all eloquence, in whatever
style, is persuasion (xxv).

In the restrained style the orator persuades of truth. In the
great style he persuades to action. In the elegant style is
he to persuade himself that he is speaking beautifully? With
such an end what have we to do? Let them seek it who glory
in language, who display themselves in panegyrics and such
exercises, in which the hearer is neither to be instructed nor
to be moved to any action, but merely to be pleased. But let us
judge this end by another end. xxv.

Thus Augustine is more explicit than Cicero in showing that the three
typical styles are but three ways (xxvi) of achieving a single end, even
as the three corresponding tasks, though one of them absorbs attention
at a time, are but three aspects of the single task. Nor can persuasion
dispense with a means beyond art, the appeal of the speaker’s life[25]
(xxvii). Though the Church speaks not merely through a man, but through
his office, persuasion needs for full effect his whole influence. Because
his life is without shame, the preacher speaks not shamelessly (xxviii),
not only with restraint and charm, but with power, to win obedience to
the truth.

The historical significance of the _De doctrina christiana_, important
as it is, should not obscure its value as a contribution to homiletic.
The first homiletic, though one of the briefest, remains one of the
most suggestive. It omits no essential; while it reminds us of the
general principles of rhetoric, it emphasizes those applications to
preaching which are distinctive; and it proceeds pedagogically. Though
the _doctrina_ of the title refers strictly to exposition, and this
is amplified and iterated as a constant necessity, Augustine includes
specifically and from the start both charm and appeal, and concludes by
showing emotional appeal to be the final stage of the comprehensive task
of persuasion. Homiletic is an application of rhetoric long established
as permanent, consistent, and in both materials and conditions fairly
constant. That it is also comprehensive, demanding all three typical
styles, including argument in its exposition, winning sympathy in order
to urge action, varying its art[26] while holding to its single aim, is
most suggestively established here in its first great monument.

Not only does Augustine forbid the arid and the tedious, not only
does he insist on emotional appeal; he also vindicates for Christian
eloquence the importance of charm. This was the more delicate because
charm was both abused by contemporary sophists and still suspected by
contemporary preachers. Augustine presents it at once frankly and with
just discrimination. To make it an end in itself, he is careful to
show, is indeed sophistic; but to ignore it is to forget that preaching
is a form of the oratory of occasion.[27] The Areopagus speech of St.
Paul,[28] though it is only summarized in _Acts_ xvii, is evidently
occasional, and has clear indications of that adaptation to win sympathy
which is Augustine’s interpretation of Cicero’s _delectare_. The speech
on occasion, favorite form of oratory in Augustine’s time, had been
conventionalized to the point of recipe. The recipes, though he knew them
all, Augustine simply ignores; the field he redeems. He shows Christian
preaching how to cultivate it for real harvest. History has shown no
other direction of rhetoric to be so peculiarly homiletic.

Already Christian eloquence had reached conspicuous achievement in
panegyric and more widely in the field of occasional oratory. The pagan
sophist must look to his laurels. But these very triumphs had brought the
danger of lapsing into too familiar conventions. What in pagan oratory
might be no worse than pretty or merely exciting, in Christian oratory
would be meretricious. To hold his difficult course, the preacher, as
Augustine reminds him again and again, must at every moment steer for
his message. He must never deviate. Though sophistic lost its dominance
centuries ago, it has never been quite dead, and it always besets
preaching. Therefore a constant concern of homiletic is to exorcise it
by a valid rhetoric; and no book has ever revealed this more succinctly,
more practically, or more suggestively than the _De doctrina christiana_.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Reprinted by courteous permission from vol. XXII (April, 1925) of
Proceedings of the (British) Classical Association, to which it was
presented under the title _St Augustine and the rhetoric of Cicero_.

[2] In _Patrologia latina_ and in the Vienna _Corpus scriptorum
ecclesiasticorum latinorum_; reprinted, Missouri Lutheran Synod, St.
Louis, 1882; translated (1) by Dods (M.), Edinburgh, 1872-1875 (reprinted
in Schaff’s Nicene and post-Nicene Fathers), (2) by Baker (W. J. V.) and
Bickersteth (C.) in _Preaching and teaching according to St. Augustine_
(Book IV only, with _De catechizandis rudibus_), London, 1907, (3) by
Sister Therèse, S.N.D. (IV, with text and commentary), Washington, 1928.

To the references and abbreviations at the head of Chapter I add: Barry
(Sister Inviolata), _St. Augustine the orator_, Washington, 1924 (in the
Catholic University of America Patristic Studies, VI); and Christopher
(J. P.), _S. Aureli Augustini ... de catechizandis rudibus_ translated
with an introduction and commentary, Washington, 1926 (in the same
series, VIII).

[3] For detailed analysis, see Barry.

[4] Even though the application of the text from _Ecclus._ xxxvii. 20 be
questioned, the rebuke of sophistic display, whether in dialectic or in
style, is none the less clear.

[5] Other allusions may be found in the passages quoted below from vi,
from xiv, and from xxv.

[6] βαδιζόντων εἰς τὰς τῶν Γαλιλαίων ἐκκλησίας ἐξηγησόμενοι Ματθαῖον καὶ
Λουκᾶν. Julian, _Epist._ 42, cited in Gibbon’s twenty-third chapter.

[7] ARP 51, 56. The reminiscences of Cicero are so numerous as to show
a pervasive preoccupation. See J. B. Eskredge, _The influence of Cicero
upon Augustine_, etc. (Chicago dissertation), 1912.

[8] E.g., _De oratore_, II. xxi. 88.

[9] The traditional maxim for the _exordium_, _reddere auditores
benevolos, attentos, dociles_, as again in iv.

[10] The traditional maxim for the _narratio_.

[11] Exercitatione sive scribendi, sive dictandi, postremo etiam dicendi.
Cf. the close of xxi.

[12] Thus I venture to translate _sapientes_, remembering the connotation
of the word both for Augustine and for his master Cicero.

[13] So toward the close “The Christian preacher prefers to appeal rather
with matter than with manner, and thinks neither that anything is said
better which is not said more truly, nor that the teacher must serve
words, but words the teacher.” xxviii.

[14] For this sort of analysis see ARP, Chapter v, and the terms in the
index. For the more elaborate sophistical analysis see Méridier, Guignet,
and the other studies of Greek fathers cited above. To suggest such
further study, the Greek of the first example and the King James English
of the third have been set beside. St. Augustine not only confines
himself to the Latin version, but disclaims competence in Greek style.

[15] The linking iteration is characteristic of climax as practised by
sophistic.

[16] Chapter xxix of Book III relegates the study of figures to
_grammatica_; but there also Augustine reminds his readers that figures,
without regard to books or teaching, are a natural expression of the
imaginative impulse.

[17] As to this form of _memoria_ see also Chapter xxix.

[18] Docere necessitatis est, delectare suavitatis, flectere victoriæ.
Or. xxi. 69, with _docere_ for the original _probare_.

[19] Ante oculos dicendo constituis (xii) recalls the _De sublimitate_,
and behind that the _Rhetoric_ of Aristotle. Its immediate source is
doubtless Cicero.

[20] The warning is repeated where Augustine is gathering the three
tasks into the final and constant idea of persuasion: “But that which is
handled in the way of charm ... is not to be made an end in itself (xxv)
... nor does it seek merely to please.” Nothing is more admirable in
Augustine’s exposition than this expert linking of his chain of progress.

[21] Numquid hic ornamenta et non documenta quæruntur?

[22] _Orator_, xxix. 101.

[23] Cf. xxix with the quotation from x above; and see _memoria_ in the
index to ARP.

[24] For his cadences, see Barry.

[25] Aristotle, _Rhetoric_ I. ii.

[26] That the Scriptures enter all the three fields of oratory indicated
by Aristotle in _Rhetoric_ I. iii, is suggested by the language of a
passage in Augustine’s third book: _Non autem adserit [scriptura] nisi
catholicam fidem rebus præteritis et futuris et præsentibus. Præteritorum
narratio est, futurorum prænuntiatio, præsentium demonstratio_, III. x.
For the last two words suggest in the context ἐπιδεικτικός, and hence
δικανικός for the first phrase of the sentence and συμβουλευτικός for the
second, according to the Aristotelian division. If so, Augustine has not
followed Cicero’s reducing of the fields to two (ARP 47, 53).

[27] In the passage quoted above from Chapter xix, and in other places
there are clear references to occasional oratory.

[28] See Norden, _Agnostos Theos, Untersuchungen zur Formengeschichte
religiöser Rede_. Leipzig, 1913. But this speech, to judge from the
indications of _Acts_ xvii, was as original in plan as in idea.

CHAPTER III

THE LAST ROMAN SCHOOLS AND THE COMPENDS (FIFTH TO SEVENTH CENTURIES)

REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS

ARP Baldwin (C. S.), _Ancient rhetoric and poetic_, New
York, 1924.

Boissier Boissier (G.), _La fin du paganisme_, Paris, 1891, 2 vols.

CSE _Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum_, Vienna.

Glover Glover (T. R.), _Life and letters in the fourth century_,
Cambridge, 1901.

Haarhoff Haarhoff (T.), _The Schools of Gaul_, Oxford, 1920.

Halm Halm (K.), _Rhetores latini minores_, Leipzig, 1863.

Keil Keil (H.), _Grammatici latini_, Leipzig, 1870-1880, 7 vols.

Labriolle Labriolle (P. de), _Histoire de la littérature latine
chrétienne_, Paris, 1920.

Manacorda Manacorda (G.), _Storia della scuola in Italia_, vol. I,
_Il medio evo_, Milan, 1913 (2 parts in separate volumes).

Manitius Manitius (M.), _Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur des
Mittelalters_, Munich, 1911, 2 vols. (in Iwan von Mueller’s
Handbuch der klassischen Alterthums-Wissenschaft, IX. ii).

Monceaux Monceaux (P.), _Histoire de la littérature latine
chrétienne_, Paris, 1924 (Collection Payot).

MGH _Monumenta Germaniæ historica_ (cited by page of the
appropriate volume).

PL Migne, _Patrologia latina_ (cited by volume and column).

Pichon Pichon (R.), _Études sur l’histoire de la littérature
latine dans les Gaules_, Paris (vol. 1), 1906.

Roger Roger (M.), _L’enseignement des lettres classiques d’Ausone
à Alcuin_, Paris, 1905.

A. THE SCHOOLS OF GAUL

The need of the Church and of the Roman world for such forward counsels,
the tenacity of sophistic among reactionaries and conformists, are amply
exhibited by the last days of Roman Gaul. In the ancient province a
cultivated leisure class, living in the twilight of a great past outworn
and doomed, cherished the sophistic conception of elegance and the
sophistic habit of education by rhetoric[1] as symbols of their Romanism.
Provincials, they were sometimes more Catholic than the Pope; their
writers and teachers would not risk being thought less literary than the
capital of the world. But in fact Gaul of the fifth and sixth centuries
was more Roman than Rome. It was the last territory of the ancient world.

1. Ausonius[2]

“The poetical fame of Ausonius,” says Gibbon in a contemptuous postscript
to a footnote,[3] “condemns the taste of his age.” Whether or not Gibbon
took too seriously the fourth-century habit in compliments, Ausonius at
least reflects the taste of his age. Fading, therefore, long since to
the shadow of a shade, hardly any longer an author, he is nevertheless
an important document. Such fame as he may have had once is hardly even
considered. Like the rhetors celebrated by Philostratus,[4] like those
at Bordeaux whom he himself commemorates, he has ceased to be even a
name. He is a collection of trivial fourth-century verses recalled only
because they incidentally record contemporary preoccupations. Expert in
the metric and the diction that he taught as _grammaticus_, he could turn
a stanza on anything—on a city, a Cæsar, or a sage. Only he preferred
topics that came handily in series: the order of the daily round or of
noble cities, twelve Cæsars, seven sages, a roster of Trojan heroes.
These are topics for Latin verses in school. Many of his poems are
evidently, and others probably, school exercises. This in itself, the
acceptance of themes as literature, is eloquent of the literary habit of
sophistic.

For the work of Ausonius may be summed up as _declamatio_.[5] Its
being mainly in verse hardly modifies its character beyond emphasizing
_sententiæ_. The conciseness imposed upon some of his work by his
predilection for epigrams is the balance and word-play of rhetoric,
not the focus of poetry. That poetic was rhetoric applied to verse
Ausonius was not the man to doubt. His praise of the Bordeaux rhetors
for both alike[6] increases the probability that the two were in fact
alike; and this is confirmed by his own verse. It is confirmed also by
the appearance of several local celebrities now as _grammatici_, now as
_rhetores_. The function of the former was traditionally both to teach
elegant correctness and to expound the poets; of the latter, to train
directly for oratory. But the two functions thus distinguished by
Quintilian seem in fourth-century Bordeaux to have been combined, or at
least to have been exercised successively by the same person.[7]

Evidently the sophistic conception of style as dilation by decoration and
literary allusion was still prevalent. To be literary was to dilate. Of
this Ausonius sometimes shows a humorous awareness.

I might tell thee outright; but for more pleasure I will talk
in mazes and with speech drawn out get full enjoyment.[8]

But the humor of his address to his stenographer does not make the
description of composing the less true to the habit of his time.

I ponder works of generous scope; and thick and fast like
hail the words tumble off my tongue.... I declaim, as now, at
greatest speed, talking in circles round my theme....[9]

The typical _declamator_ appears in Exuperius, “majestic in gait and in
great words.”[10] Literary tags, especially in panegyric, come thick.

Who like you can approach the charm of Æsop, the sophistic
perorations of Isocrates, the arguments of Demosthenes, the
Tullian richness, or the felicity of our own Maro?[11]

The speeches and poems of these men, and of Ausonius himself,[12] are
typically occasional. Their ideal of aptness is sought by following the
recipes for encomium. Literature, long fixed, was to be attained by
expert conformity.

Evidently too these encomiasts still had their reward.[13] As official
spokesmen they were appointed to public office. Ausonius himself rose
with the fortunes of Gratian. From being his tutor he mounted by the
steps of _comes_ and _quæstor_ to be in 378 _præfectus Galliarum_. Such
a position dispenses a man from writing for posterity, and effectually
prevents him from questioning the permanence of an order of life
and thought already spent. Until the Roman world fell apart, it was
satisfyingly enclosed in the schools of Bordeaux.

2. Sidonius Apollinaris

Cherishing of the past, rhetorical education, obsession of style—all
this is embodied in the Roman prefect and Christian bishop Sidonius
Apollinaris.[14] His letters and poems, current through the middle
age as models of style, are consistently in the modes of sophistic.
Commemorations, addresses of welcome or congratulation, above all
panegyrics, they follow the tradition of _declamatio_;[15] and their
allusions abundantly exemplify both the school practise of his day and
the literary preoccupations.

Sending to Perpetuus his discourse at Bourges, Sidonius apologizes for
its defects of style.

Neither rhetorical division, nor oratorical urgency, nor the
figures of _grammatica_ have contributed to it appropriate
ornament and virtuosity. For I did not give myself the
pleasure of adjusting, after the habit of those who file their
perorations, the weight of narrative, or the figures of poetry,
or the sparks of the cadences practised in school.[16]

A long letter to Domitius, describing villa life in detail most
interesting to the historian, contains a lively passage of description.

How pleasant the sound of crickets chorusing at midday, frogs
prating as twilight broods, swans and geese trumpeting their
matings at night, cocks in concert crowing untimely!

So far Sidonius sounds as if he had a respite from style. The
picturesqueness seems to spring from observation. But habit is too
strong to let him either stop there or dispense with literary allusions.
He goes on:

ominous ravens thrice saluting the ruddy torch of rising
Aurora, and at daybreak Philomela whispering among the bushes,
Progne chirping among the posts. To this symphony you may
add the shepherds’ reed music, which in rivalry of songs by
night the unsleeping Tityri of our mountains practise among
herds whose bells echo through the cropped pastures. But all
the various melodies of voices and of songs will the more
caressingly lure your sleep.[17]

Balance has never been pursued more anxiously. The teaching of Probus is
praised for handing down:

the loftiness of the epic poet and the wit of the comic,
the lyrist’s tunefulness and the orator’s declamation, the
historian’s truth and the satirist’s figure, the grammarian’s
regularity and the panegyrist’s plausibility, the sophist’s
seriousness and the epigrammatist’s liberty, the commentator’s
lucidity and the barrister’s obscurity.[18]

The letter of welcome to Constans has a similar series of balanced
contrasts.

For days there was in each mind the paradox that your person,
with the weight of age and the frailty of illness, lofty in
rank and venerable in religion, with mind bent only on giving
pleasure, broke so many bars, so many difficulties in the
way of your coming: the journey’s length, the shortness of
the days; the snows’ abundance, the poverty of provisions;
deserts’ wideness, narrowness of lodgings; in the roads chasms
miry with the wetting of showers or rutted with the dryness
of frosts; besides, either banks rough with rocks or rivers
frozen slippery, hills rugged to climb or valleys scoured by
the frequency of landslides. Through all these discomforts,
because you sought not your private comfort, you brought back
the public love.[19]

Such contrasts in series are sometimes made even more artificial by
word-play.

He responds as Pythagoras, discriminates as Socrates; evolves
as Plato, involves as Aristotle; as Æschines soothes, as
Demosthenes provokes; as Hortensius is in spring, as Cethegus
in summer; hurries as Curio, lingers as Fabius; simulates as
Crassus, dissimulates as Cæsar; has the suasion of Cato, the
dissuasion of Appius, the persuasion of Cicero.[20]

This is the “pomp of Roman speech.”[21]

The aristocracy bent on discarding the scales of Celtic speech
was indoctrinated now with the style of oratory, now with the
modes of the Muses.[22]

Sidonius feels himself the representative of a great tradition.[23]
That tradition was generally ceremonious regard for usage and a certain
anxiety to exhibit culture by literary allusions and by command of
the technic of style. Generally, that is, the literary tradition of
Gaul was sophistic. Specifically it was _declamatio_.[24] The school
tradition celebrated by the elder Seneca, and made by him and by the
_declamatores_ after him the exemplar of oratory, is seen in the pages
of Sidonius equally to monopolize the schools and the platforms of Gaul.
This is rhetoric, and there is no other. It is fully displayed in the
long letters to Lupus[25] and to Claudianus Mamertius,[26] not only in
conclusive evidence of detail, but as a conception that is pervasive
because it is exclusive. As in the letter above to Probus, there is
frequent use of the words _declamatio_, _declamare_, _controversia_, etc.

I remember that your boyhood was competently taught in the
liberal schools; and I have satisfied myself that you often
declaimed before an orator ardently and eloquently.[27]

Now blows the epos of tragedies, now soothes gay comedy, now
flame satires and the oratory of debates on tyrants.[28]

He would vary prosopopœia according to the quality of person,
time, and place, and that in words not ordinary, but thought
out as great and beautiful. In debate assignments [he was]
strong and muscular.[29]

The most extended reference is the letter to Remigius about the
collection which had originally, perhaps, been his desk-book at Rheims,
and which had been revised and copied for imitation.

A certain Auvergnat on his way to Belgium ... filched from
your scribe or bookseller, whether you will or not, at a price
very large, though doubtless inadequate, the first draft of
your _Declamationes_. When he came back to us ... I took
care to have them all copied. It was the universal opinion
that few such can now be spoken. For few, if any, bring to
such assignments even an approximately equal ... aptness
in examples, authority in evidence; propriety in epithets,
urbanity in figures; force in argument, weight in appeal; flow
of words, stroke of cadence. The structure, moreover, is strong
and firm, the very clever transitions woven with pauses that
cannot be resolved. Nor is it the less smooth, light, every way
rounded, and such as aptly to speed a reader’s tongue without
making it stumble, or stutter over rough combinations, or twist
into the chamber of the palate. Finally all is liquid, ductile,
as when the finger runs without a scratch over a surface of
crystal or onyx.... There is no man now living whose discourse
your skill cannot easily outdistance and surpass.[30]

Interesting as is the glimpse of the transmission and traffic of books,
it is quite overshadowed by the significance of such a collection.
Evidently it was regarded not only as a storehouse for imitation in
school, but as a work of literature. Similarly were collected early in
the sixth century the _declamationes_ of Ennodius, Bishop of Pavia.[31]
The letter of Sidonius specifies, moreover, those literary excellences
which were sought alike in teaching and in professional practise. What
he means, for instance, by firmness of _structura_ is not cogency of
composition, but smoothness of style; and revision to this end involves
meticulous adjustment to tongue and ear.

Other references show equally that the exercises of the schools were
carried, as in the earlier imperial centuries, into public speaking and
literature. The orator’s achievement is not the persuasion of his fellow
men; it is his own virtuosity.

He spoke with order, weight, ardor, with great keenness,
greater fluency, greatest skill.[32]

The climax of the praise is his _disciplina_. _Declamatio_ teaches boys
to develop an outline at length.

So providing boys’ themes with pieces to weave in, they
understood that for youth expression consists rather in working
out what is brief than in cutting down what is extended.[33]

But this is no less the achievement of the finished orator.

So a great orator, if he essays an affair that is small, shows
the more convincingly that his talent is large.[34]

The habit of dilation is carried into poetry. Is it not sanctioned by
Horace?

But if any one suggests that a poem so diffuse is to be blamed
for exceeding the sparseness of epigram, he exposes himself
as not having read the Etruscan baths, nor the Hercules of
Sorrento, nor the locks of Flavius Earinus, nor the Tibur of
Vopiscus, nor anything at all from the _Silvæ_ of our Papinius;
for all these ecphrases are not confined by the poet thus
prejudged within the narrow bounds of distichs or quatrains.
Rather as Horace, though a lyrist, teaches in his volume on
the poetic art, he appropriately extends the matter he has
undertaken by many, yes, and purple, patches from the common
store.[35]

Horace is so misapplied because _declamatio_ tends to merge poetic in
rhetoric.[36] The poems of Sidonius differ from his prose in little but
verse. Three of the longer ones are panegyrics; all are occasional;
all show the same habits of style. The literary tags used to sum up
the teaching of Probus[37] assign to poetry a kind of appropriateness
which belongs to rhetoric. Sapaudus owes his literary reputation to
his training in _declamatio_ under Pragmatius, who used to “break the
rhetoric benches” with a peroration.[38]

In short, the rhetoric and the poetic of fifth-century Gaul are seen
in Sidonius to be following faithfully the sophistic tradition of
_declamatio_. He knows all its recipes. From correctness conceived as
archaism and elegance conceived as ceremony, through dilation by the
Gorgian figures and by literary allusion, he is constant to the sophistic
ideal of expert impressiveness.[39] Augustine had been the pioneer of
the Christian future of rhetoric; Sidonius was a complacent reactionary
of its decadent Roman past.

3. Textbooks

a. GRAMMATICA AND DIALECTICA

In this period were written the Latin grammars authoritative throughout
the middle age, those of Donatus and Priscian.[40] The former, used
generally in two parts as an introductory manual, was so current, indeed,
as to become common property and to reduce its author’s name to a common
noun.[41] Priscian came to be used as a second book.[42]

The ancient tradition including in the scope of _grammatica_ not only
meters and some of the figures of speech, but also the study of poetry
through _prælectiones_,[43] is recognized in several of the preliminary
definitions.

What is grammatica? The lore of interpreting poets and
story-writers and the theory of writing and speaking
correctly.[44]

St. Augustine refers to this induction into poetry as habitual.

Without some training in poetic you would not dare to attempt
the function of grammarian. Asper, Cornutus, Donatus, and
others without number are required, that any poet whose
verse appears to seek the applause of the theater may be
understood.[45]

For such teaching the favorite author was Vergil; the favorite authority,
the “Ars Poetica” of Horace.

From this period come also the standard medieval textbooks of logic.
The logic of Aristotle was mediated to the whole middle age by the
translations and commentaries of Boethius. “He translated the Εἰσαγωγή
of Porphyry and the whole of Aristotle’s _Organon_. He wrote a double
commentary on the Εἰσαγωγή and commentaries on the _Categories_ and the
_De interpretatione_ of Aristotle, and on the _Topica_ of Cicero. He
also composed original treatises on the categorical and hypothetical
syllogism, on Division and on Topical Differences.”[46] The medieval
order of studies was: Porphyry’s Introduction, the Categories,
Interpretation, Syllogisms, Topics.

b. RHETORICA

Quintilian was known to both Ausonius and Sidonius, and doubtless
generally to the rhetors of Gaul.[47] But his work is addressed rather
to teachers than to pupils. More available for the schools was Cicero’s
youthful compend _De inventione_. The early and continued use of this is
widely attested. Its contents are as follows:

_Book I._ i-vi scope, function, and relations of rhetoric;
vii its five parts; viii-xiii investigation (with _status_
and _quæstio_); xiv the parts of a speech; xv-xviii exordium;
xix-xxi statement of facts; xxii-xxiii division; xxiv-xli proof
(with adaptation to the persons and the case, and with the
kinds of argument); xlii-li rebuttal; lii-lv conclusion (with
appeal to feeling).

_Book II_ (expansion of I in pleading). i-iv introductory
review, the Aristotelian type and the Isocratean type, the
fields of oratory, the determining of the issue (_status_);
v-xvi issues of fact (_status coniecturalis_) in relation to
motive, person, evidence; xvii-xx issues of terms (_status
definitivus_); xxi-xxxvi issues involving more general
considerations (_status generalis_); xxxvii-xxxix profit
(_præmium_) in relation to advantages in themselves and to the
person concerned, in general and with reference to particular
opportunities; xl-li disputed written evidence; lii typical
subjects of deliberative oratory; liii-lvii honor, utility,
necessity; lix encomium and invective.

To this was added in general medieval use the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_,
probably by Cornificius, but thought throughout the middle age to
be Cicero’s.[48] When this began its medieval vogue is difficult to
determine. Since it is not mentioned by either Cassiodorus or Isidore,
it may not have been generally current before the Carolingian revival.
Meantime the fourth century added, besides the commentary of Victorinus
on the _De inventione_, the compendious catechism of Fortunatianus;[49]
and the fifth century, the longer work of Julius Victor.[50]

B. THE TRIVIUM IN COMPENDS OF THE SEVEN LIBERAL ARTS

The relations of rhetoric to grammar on the one hand and to logic on
the other must be considered in determining its function at any period
of its history. The ancient _grammatica_, for instance, included at its
best not only metric and some of the figures of speech, but a certain
induction into poetry. Its field of composition was pretty definitely
marked out in traditional elementary exercises.[51] _Rhetorica_ as
conceived by Aristotle or by Cicero concerns itself of necessity with
logic. With Quintilian not only proof and refutation, but that estimate
of the whole line of argument for which he provides systematic analysis
under the traditional head of _status_, are largely logical. Logic may be
used for analysis without presentation. This, indeed, is abstractly its
proper function, and indicates its relation to philosophy; but in actual
practise, or in a given system of teaching, its relation may be rather to
rhetoric, and conversely rhetoric, by yielding its field of _inventio_ to
logic, may be reduced to the study of style.

So the estimate of the rhetoric or the poetic of a given period must
consider the contemporary view of the whole Trivium. This obligation is
obvious where the Trivium is conceived as a unified group of studies;
but it is no less important where the three studies are pursued without
explicit relations. Indeed, one of the measures of effective functioning
in any one of them is the fostering or the ignoring of their relations.
A survey of the history of the Trivium in this aspect distinguishes the
lingering of ancient educational traditions in the fourth and fifth
centuries and their lapse in the sixth and seventh, then that increasing
range of cathedral and especially monastic schools which received its
historic impulse from Charlemagne. The great monastic schools come to
their prime in the eleventh and twelfth centuries; in the thirteenth they
yield to the universities. The dominant member of the Trivium in the
earliest of these periods is the _rhetorica_ of decadent antiquity; from
the seventh into the tenth it is _grammatica_; from the eleventh on, it
is _dialectica_.

1. Martianus Capella

The division of studies into seven liberal arts came to the middle age
from Varro’s _Disciplina_ largely through Martianus Capella.[52] His
_Marriage of Philology and Mercury_ was widely current for centuries.
The allegory implied by his title is carried out in ornate verse and
prose through two books. In the other seven books allegory is reduced to
the conventional description introducing each of the arts in turn with
appropriate costume, symbols, and speech. Thus the work divides sharply
into a grandiose allegorical prelude of two books, with a similar prelude
to each following book, and a sober, concise, pedestrian compend of
_grammatica_ (III), _dialectica_ (IV), _rhetorica_ (V), _geometria_ (VI),
_arithmetica_ (VII), _astronomia_ (VIII), and _harmonia_ (IX).

_Grammatica_, the first of the language studies, claims its ancient
territory, including the exposition of poetry. The subsequent treatment
is conventional and incomplete.[53]

The Lady _Dialectica_ is more assertive.

I claim jurisdiction over whatsoever the other arts utter; for
evidently neither _Grammatica_ herself, whom your ears have
approved, nor the second sister, renowned for the skill of rich
utterance, nor she who reduces to line varieties of forms ...
can be explained without my theories. Nay, in my domain and
jurisdiction abide six norms, to which the other disciplines
conform. For the first concerns naming; the second, defining;
the third, affirming; the fourth, concluding; the fifth,
judging, which bears upon the interpretation of poets and their
poems; the sixth, diction, which is adapted to rhetors.[54]

The fifth _norma_ annexes that part of _grammatica_ which was most remote
from logic; the sixth trenches on _rhetorica_. The actual extension of
_dialectica_ into the ancient domain of rhetoric during the high middle
age[55] may have found here some warrant. But Martianus himself does not
include these items either in the prospectus immediately following or in
the subsequent compend.[56]

_Rhetorica_ enters Book V with such pomp and noise as to frighten some of
the minor symbols.

Interea sonuere tubæ raucusque per æthram
Cantus, et ignoto cælum clangore remugit:
Turbati expauere dii....

But while the crowd of gods terrestrial was thus disconcerted,
behold a woman of loftiest stature and great assurance, with
countenance of radiant splendor, made her solemn entry.
Helmeted and crowned with royal majesty, she held ready for
defense or for attack weapons that gleamed with the flash of
lightning. Beneath her armor the vesture draped Roman-wise
about her shoulders glittered with the various light of all
_figuræ_, all _schemata_; and she was cinctured with most
precious _colores_ for jewels. The clatter of her weapons as
she moved was as if thunder in the crash of a cloud aflame
broke with leaping echoes. Nay, it seemed as if, like Jove, she
herself could hurl the thunderbolt. For as queen in control
of all things she has shown power to move men whither she
pleased, or whence, to bow them to tears, to incite them to
rage, to transform the mien and feeling as well of cities as of
embattled armies and all the hosts of the peoples.[57]

After this fanfare _Rhetorica_ settles down to drill. Though the
predilection for _declamatio_ transpires now and then even in this,
the compend covers all five parts of the ancient program, and gives
to _inventio_ and _dispositio_ more than twice the space granted to
_elocutio_. There is room not only for character and the feelings (ἤθη
and πάθη), but for _status_ and analysis of types of argument. Most of
the examples are from Cicero. The rhetoric that Martianus preaches is
quite distinct from that which he practises. Its proportions are those of
the better ancient tradition. It does not even dilate on _colores_.[58]
For all the rodomontade with which it is introduced, the ancient program
is still comprehended.

2. Cassiodorus

The survey included by the monk Cassiodorus[59] in his _Institutiones_
is hardly more than an enumeration. The seven arts are not considered in
their larger aspects; and the Trivium is merely sketched. _Rhetorica_,
after being summarily distinguished from _dialectica_ and divided into
its typical considerations and objects, is hastened through the parts of
a speech into the emotions. Then defining it anew and dividing it into
its traditional five parts, Cassiodorus enumerates _status_, reverts to
the parts of a speech, cites Quintilian and Fortunatianus, and classifies
arguments. The meager summary is not even clear. Nevertheless the
influence of Cassiodorus in carrying forward the idea of the seven arts
is attested by frequent reference.[60]

3. Isidore

In the seventh century, and for centuries afterward, a chief purveyor
of the lore of the seven arts was the _Etymologiæ_, or _Origines_, of
the Spanish bishop Isidore of Seville.[61] The work is an aggregation
of summaries, not only of the seven arts, which occupy only three books
of the twenty, but of medicine, law, holy writ, history, the hierarchy
celestial and terrestrial, zoölogy, geography, metallurgy, agriculture,
and crafts. Though it has no single guiding scheme, its brief chapters
are grouped under headings fairly convenient for reference. It is a
guide-book, rendering its first service when books were few and hard to
get, and long continuing in vogue. In the thirteenth century Vincent
of Beauvais,[62] undertaking more systematically a compend hardly less
comprehensive, his vast _Speculum_, transferred to it whole passages from
Isidore.

Isidore appealed to the earlier middle age as a mediator not only of
manifold lore, but especially of ancient tradition.

The disciplines of the liberal arts are seven: first
_grammatica_, i.e., skill in speaking; second, _rhetorica_,
for the splendor and abundance of its eloquence deemed
necessary especially in political questions;[63] third,
_dialectica_, surnamed _logica_, which by subtlest arguments
distinguishes the true from the false. I. ii.

Isidore’s _grammatica_ has the usual contents, including _schemata_,
_tropi_, and metric.[64] _Fabula_ and _historia_ reflect the ancient
elementary exercises.[65] His second book contains both _rhetorica_ and
_dialectica_.

“_Rhetorica_ is the lore of speaking well on political
questions to persuade [men of what is] just and good. It is
called by a Greek name ἀπὸ τοῦ ῥητορίζειν, i.e., from wealth
of speech. For in Greek speech is called ῥῆσις, and an orator
ῥήτωρ. _Rhetorica_, moreover, is connected with _grammatica_.
In the one we learn the lore of speaking correctly; in the
other we perceive how to utter what we have learned. II. i.

“This discipline was invented by the Greeks—Gorgias,
Aristotle, Hermagoras, and transferred to Latin by Cicero and
Quintilian.... The perfect knowledge of this discipline makes
the orator. ii.

“The orator, then, is a good man skilled in speaking: good,
i.e., in nature, breeding, education; skilled in speaking, i.e.,
in expert eloquence. This consists of five parts (_inventio_,
_dispositio_, _elocutio_, _memoria_, _pronuntiatio_) and in the
function of persuading.”... iii.

In the same summary fashion Isidore treats the three fields,
_status_, simple or compound proposition, the four parts of a
speech, the five sorts of cases, syllogisms, law, apothegm,
proof and disproof, the school exercises _prosopopœia_ and
_ethopœia_, questions abstract and concrete. The remainder
of the section, somewhat more than one third, is devoted to
_elocutio_: the three styles, the division into phrase, clause,
and period, the typical faults of phrasing, and the figures.
As to the last he makes a distinction lost on his later
medieval readers. “Of these most have been noted above under
_grammatica_ as the _schemata_ of Donatus. Therefore only those
should find place here which hardly occur in a poem, but freely
in a speech.” II. xxi.

“_Dialectica_ is the discipline designed for the discussion of
cases (ad disserendas causas). It is that species of philosophy
which is called _logica_, i.e., the theory controlling
definition, investigation and discussion. For it teaches in
many forms of questions how by discussion the true may be
distinguished from the false.... Therefore _dialectica_ follows
the discipline of _rhetorica_ because they have many things in
common.” II. xxii.

To distinguish the two, Isidore quotes from Varro a metaphor
often quoted from Zeno; _dialectica_ is the closed fist,
_rhetorica_ the open hand. The one is the more acute in
discussing, the other the more fluent in imparting; the one is
of the schools, the other of the forum; the one for scholars,
the other for the people. xxiii.

A chapter (xxiv) inserted here groups all the seven arts under
_philosophia_, which is threefold:[66] (1) _naturalis_ (_physica_), (2)
_moralis_ (_ethica_), (3) _rationalis_ (_logica_), “in which is discussed
how in the causes of things or in the conduct of life truth itself may be
sought.” Isidore does not, however, pursue this larger scope of _logica_.
Though he cites additionally Plato’s use of the term to include both
_dialectica_ and _rhetorica_, he goes on to enumerate other divisions
of philosophy, and then (xxv) to the usual items of _dialectica_ as
presented by Boethius: Porphyry’s Introduction, Aristotle’s Categories,
interpretation, syllogisms, division and definition, topics.

The program for the Trivium keeps in the main the ancient proportions.
Some usurpation of composition by _dialectica_, some leaning of
_rhetorica_ toward dilation and decoration, may be read into it; but each
of the two studies clearly has its own function, and work enough for
serious occupation. As in other parts of his aggregation, Isidore makes
his summary of the Trivium a list of studies, not a group. He attempts
no unified plan. Therefore his putting of _rhetorica_ before instead of
after _dialectica_ should hardly be pressed for significance.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] ARP 90, 94, 96, 101.

[2] About 310-393; _grammaticus_ and _rhetor_ at Bordeaux, which was the
greatest, perhaps, of the schools of Gaul.

Editions: Schenkl, Berlin (MGH, Auctores antiquissimi, V. ii), 1883;
Peiper, Leipzig (Teubner), 1886; H. G. E. White, London & New York (Loeb
series, 2 vols.), 1919-1921, with translation (used in this section),
introduction, notes, and select bibliography; full bibliography in Marie
José Byrne, _Prolegomena to an edition of the works of Ausonius_, New
York, 1916.

[3] III. xxvii, last sentence of footnote 1.

[4] Chapter I. B. 1.

[5] See Chapter I. B. 2, especially a. (1); and for the earlier
_declamatio_, ARP 87-101.

[6]

Palmæ forensis et camenarum decus.

V. ii. 7.

Facundum doctumque virum, seu lege metrorum
Condita seu prosis solveret orsa modis.

_Ibid._ iii. 3.

[7]

Grammatice ad Scaurum atque Probum, promptissime rhetor.

_Ibid._ xx. 7.

Grammatici in studio vel rhetoris aut in utroque.

_Ibid._ xxv. 3.

Nos [i.e. Ausonius] ad grammaticen studium convertimus et mox
Rhetorices etiam, quod satis, attigimus.

I. i. 15.

[8]

Possem absolute dicere,
Sed dulcius circumloquar
Diuque fando perfruar.

Lines 7-9 of the poem in _Epist._ XII.

[9]

Ego volvo libros uberes,
Instarque densæ grandinis
Torrente lingua perstrepo.
...
Cum maxime nunc proloquor
Circumloquentis ambitu.

II. vii. 7.

[10]

Incessu gravis et verbis ingentibus.

V. xvii. 2.

[11] Quis ita Æsopi venustatem, quis sophisticas Isocratis conclusiones,
quis ad enthymemata Demosthenis aut opulentiam Tullianam aut proprietatem
nostri Maronis accedat? _Epist._ ii.

[12] His most considerable prose piece is the _Gratiarum actio ad
Gratianum_.

[13]

Mox schola et auditor multus prætextaque pubes
Grammatici nomen divitiasque dedit.

V. xviii. 7.

[14] About 430-484; Bishop of Auvergne, 471; educated at Lyon.

Editions: Mohr, Leipzig (Teubner), 1895, and MGH.

Biography by Chaix (l’Abbé L.-A.), _St. Sidoine Apollinaire et son
siècle_, 2 vols., Paris, 1867; translation, with introduction and notes,
by Dalton (O. M.), Oxford, 1915.

For his influence see Manitius, Boissier, Roger. It was doubtless
enhanced, if not revived, by _dictamen_, for which see below, Chapter
VIII. Alain de Lille puts him beside Quintilian and Symmachus among
“rhetoricæ auctores alii” (_Anticlaudianus_, III. iii). John of Salisbury
refers to him in _Metalogicus_ (PL. 199: 831 A, 865 D) and _Policraticus_
(see the index to Webb’s ed.).

[15] See above, Chapter I, B. 2. a. and ARP, IV. ii. A.

[16] Cui non rhetorica partitio, non oratoriæ minæ, non grammaticales
figuræ congruentem decorem disciplinamque suppeditaverunt. Neque enim
illic, ut exacte perorantibus mos est, aut pondera historica aut poetica
schemata scintillasve controversialium clausularum libuit aptari. VII.
ix. 1-2. The words _disciplina_ and _controversialis_ allude to the
schools; _clausula_, to the study of closing cadences. Cf. VIII. iii. 3.

[17] Hic iam quam volupe auribus insonare cicadas meridie concrepantes,
ranas crepusculo incumbente blaterantes, cygnos atque anseres concubia
nocte clangentes, intempesta gallos gallinacios concinentes, oscines
corvos voce triplicata puniceam surgentis Auroræ facem consalutantes,
diluculo autem Philomelam inter frutices sibilantem, Prognen inter
asseres minurientem! Cui concentui licebit adiungas fistulæ septiforis
armentalem Camenam, quam sæpe nocturnis carminum certaminibus insomnes
nostrorum montium Tityri exercent inter greges tinnibulatos per depasta
buceta reboantes. Quæ tamen varia vocum cantuumque modulamina profundius
confovendo sopori tuo lenocinabuntur. II. ii. 14.

[18] Si quid heroicus arduum comicus lepidum, lyricus cantilenosum
orator declamatorium, historicus verum satiricus figuratum, grammaticus
regulare panegyrista plausibile, sophista serium epigrammatista lascivum,
commentator lucidum iurisconsultus obscurum. IV. i. 2.

[19] Obversatur etenim per dies mentibus singulorum quod persona ætate
gravis infirmitate fragilis, nobilitate sublimis religione venerabilis,
solius dilectionis obtentu abrupisti tot repagula, tot obiectas veniendi
difficultates, itinerum videlicet longitudinem brevitatem dierum, nivium
copiam penuriam pabulorum, latitudines solitudinum angustias mansionum,
viarum voragines aut umore imbrium putres aut frigorum siccitate
tribulosas; ad hoc aut aggeres saxis asperos aut fluvios gelu lubricos
aut colles ascensu salebrosos aut valles lapsuum assiduitate derasas;
per quæ omnia incommoda, quia non privatum commodum requirebas, amorem
publicum rettulisti. III. ii. 3.

[20] Sentit ut Pythagoras dividit ut Socrates, explicat ut Platon
implicat ut Aristoteles, ut Æschines blanditur ut Demosthenes irascitur,
vernat ut Hortensius æstuat ut Cethegus, incitat ut Curio moratur ut
Fabius, simulat ut Crassus dissimulat ut Cæsar, suadet ut Cato dissuadet
ut Appius persuadet ut Tullius. IV. iii. 6. This is immediately followed
by another series balancing the Fathers. Similar is the invective
in the letter to Thaumastus: iudicanda dictant, dictata convellunt;
adtrahunt litigaturos, protrahunt audiendos; trahunt addictos, retrahunt
transigentes. V. vii. 2. So 3 and 5 in the same letter, and 14 in the
letter to Faustus, IX. ix.

[21] Sermonis pompa Romani. IV. xvii. 2.

[22] Sermonis Celtici squamam depositura nobilitas nunc oratorio stilo,
nunc etiam Camenalibus modis imbuebatur. III. iii. 2.

[23] Cui tamen sermonicari Latialiter cordi est. IV. iii. 1.

[24] For sophistic, see Chapter I. B.; for _declamatio_, ARP 87-101.

[25] VIII. xi.

[26] IV. iii.

[27] Atqui pueritiam tuam competenter scholis liberalibus memini imbutam
et sæpenumero acriter eloquenterque declamasse coram oratore satis habeo
compertum. V. v. 2.

[28]

Et nunc inflat epos tragœdiarum,
Nunc comœdia temperat iocosa,
Nunc flammant satiræ et tyrannicarum
Declamatio controversiarum.

VIII. xi. 3 (lines 26-29 of the enclosed poem).

Note that _declamatio_ is here recognized as a literary form.

[29] Ethicam dictionem pro personæ temporis loci qualitate variabat,
idque non verbis qualibuscumque, sed grandibus pulchris elucubratis. In
materia controversiali fortis et lacertosus. VIII. xi. 6. For prosopopœia
see ARP, index, and Emporius in Halm, 561. For the use of χαρακτήρ by
Sidonius himself see the stock parasite in III. 13.

[30] Quidam ab Arvernis Belgicam petens ... postquam Remos advenerat,
scribam tuum sive bybliopolam pretio fors fuat officione demeritum
copiosissimo velis nolis declamationum tuarum schedio emunxit. Qui
redux nobis ... curæ mihi ... cuncta transcribere. Omnium assensu
pronuntiatum pauca nunc posse similia dictari. Etenim rarus aut nullus
est cui meditaturo par affatim assistat dispositio per causas, positio
per litteras, compositio per syllabas; ad hoc oportunitas in exemplis
fides in testimoniis, proprietas in epithetis urbanitas in figuris,
virtus in argumentis pondus in sensibus, flumen in verbis fulmen in
clausulis. Structura vero fortis et firma coniunctionumque perfacetarum
nexa cæsuris insolubilibus, sed nec hinc minus lubrica et levis ac modis
omnibus erotundata quæque lectoris linguam inoffensam decenter expediat,
ne salebrosas passa iuncturas per cameram palati volutata balbutiat; tota
denique liquida prorsus et ductilis, veluti cum crystallinas crustas aut
onychitinas non impacto digitus ungue perlabitur ... non extat ad præsens
vivi hominis oratio quam peritia tua non sine labore transgredi queat ac
supervadere. IX. vii. 1-4.

[31] 474-521; works in MGH and in CSE. The subjects of the _controversiæ_
are from the usual stock; e.g.: In abdicatum qui patrem necavit. In
novercam quæ, cum marito privigni odia suadere non posset, utrique
venenum porrexit. In eum qui patri suo cibum subtraxit. His panegyric of
Theodoric was delivered about 507.

A collection of _declamationes_ was current under the name of Quintilian.

[32] Dixit disposite graviter ardenter, magna acrimonia maiore facundia
maxima disciplina. VIII. vi. 6.

[33] Sic adulescentum declamatiunculas pannis textilibus comparantes
intellegebant eloquia iuvenum laboriosius brevia produci quam porrecta
succidi. I. iv. 3.

[34] Sic et magnus orator, si negotium aggrediatur angustum, tunc amplum
plausibilius manifestat ingenium. VIII. x. 3.

[35] Si quis autem carmen prolixius eatenus duxerit esse culpandum quod
epigrammatis excesserit paucitatem, istum liquido patet neque balneas
Etrusci neque Herculem Surrentinum neque comas Flavii Earini neque Tibur
Vopisci neque omnino quicquam de Papinii nostri silvulis lectitasse
quas omnes descriptiones vir ille præiudicatissimus non distichorum
aut tetrastichorum stringit angustiis, sed potius, ut lyricus Flaccus
in artis poeticæ volumine præcipit, multis isdemque purpureis locorum
communium pannis semel inchoatas materias decenter extendit. Carmen XXII.
6 (prose epilogue). The allusions are to Statius. For the rhetorical cast
of the _Ars poetica_ itself, which is constantly quoted throughout the
middle age, see ARP 245.

[36] ARP 100.

[37] Above, page 80.

[38] Nam debetur ab eo percopiosus litteris honor. Hunc olim perorantem
et rhetorica sedilia plausibili oratione frangentem. V. x. 2.

[39] See Chapter I. B. 2. a (3) and d (5).

[40] Both are in Keil, with two other grammarians of this period who seem
to have had considerable currency, Fortunatianus and Victorinus. The
names have occasioned some confusion. Keil calls the grammarian Atilius
Fortunatianus, and distinguishes Maximus from Marius Victorinus. The
latter has been regarded as the author of the widespread commentary on
Cicero’s _De inventione_; but Halm assigns this to Q. Fabius Laurentius
Victorinus. The _Ars rhetorica_ is generally assigned to Q. Chirius (or
Curius) Fortunatianus. But the determination of persons is of little
moment here. The works are all of this period and all current in the
middle age.

Keil includes also the compends of Cassiodorus and Bede. His notes are
valuable especially for locating correspondences and medieval use.

W. J. Chase’s translation of the _Ars Minor_ of Donatus reprints Keil’s
text and has an historical introduction (Univ. of Wisconsin Studies No.
36, Madison, 1926).

[41] E.g., in 1445 Panicali da Cingoli gave his _Flores grammaticæ_ the
sub-title _Donatellus_; and by then the English name for an elementary
grammar was _donet_. Pecock uses the word, in the sense of primer, as a
title for his handbook of morals.

[42] Priscian includes a translation of the elementary exercises of
Hermogenes (see above, Chapter I. B. 2. c).

[43] For _prælectio_ see the index to ARP.

[44] Scientia interpretandi poetas atque historicos et recte scribendi
loquendique ratio. Marius Victorinus, Keil VI. 188. The same words are
found in Audax, Keil VII. 321; and substantially equivalent definitions
in Servius on Donatus, Keil IV. 486; Asper, Keil V. 547; Dositheus, Keil
VII. 376. Priscian’s examples are mainly from poetry.

[45] Nulla imbutus poetica disciplina Terentianum Maurum sine magistro
adtingere non auderes. Asper, Cornutus, Donatus et alii innumerabiles
requiruntur, ut quilibet poeta possit intellegi cuius carmina et theatri
plausus uiderentur captare. _De utilitate credendi_, 17 (CSE, S. August,
vol. 6, 21. 25).

For later use of prælectio see the index to the present volume.

[46] E. K. Rand’s introduction to the Loeb _Boethius_, page ix.

For the commented translation of the Analytics see Manitius I. 30; for
the resumption of the Analytics at Chartres, the section on John of
Salisbury’s _Metalogicus_ below, Chapter VI. C.

[47] The history of the use of Quintilian is set forth in Fierville’s
edition of Book I (Paris, 1890). This has been reviewed and extended by
F. H. Colson in the introduction to his edition of Book I (Cambridge
University Press, 1924).

[48] The assignment to Cicero is as early as Jerome. See Cornificius in
Pauly-Wissowa.

Halm shows very little use of the _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ during this
period. There is a full synopsis of this work in Wilkins’s introduction
to his edition of Cicero’s _De oratore_ (Oxford, 1893), page 56. Faral
shows in comparative tables that it is the source of the lists of figures
in the medieval _artes poeticæ_ (_Les arts poétiques du xiie et du xiiie
siècle_, Paris, 1924), pages 52-54.

[49] _Ars rhetorica._ It is praised by Cassiodorus.

[50] Julius Victor makes far the largest use of Quintilian.

[51] See Quintilian I. ix, and compare this and his II. iv with the
exercises of Hermogenes above in Chapter I. B. 2. c.

[52] The best edition of the _De nuptiis Philologiæ et Mercurii_ is
Dick’s, Leipzig (Teubner), 1925.

[53] “Officium uero meum tunc fuerat docte scribere legereque; nunc etiam
illud accessit ut meum sit erudite intellegere probareque.” III. 230.

Many of the usual topics are merely mentioned. Marked agreement with
this book is shown by Priscian, Diomedes, and Charisius; considerable
agreement, by Marius Victorinus and Maximus Victorinus. See Dick’s
references _ad loc._ It is used by Cassiodorus especially, and also by
Isidore. Bede’s use may be through Maximus Victorinus.

[54] Meique prorsum iuris esse quicquid Artes ceteræ proloquuntur. Nam
neque ipsam quam aures uestræ probauere, Grammaticam, neque alteram
opimi oris præcluem facultate, uel illam formarum diuersa radio ac
puluere lineantem sine meis posse rationibus explicari quis dubitat?
Quippe in dicione mea iureque consistunt sex normæ, quis constant ceteræ
disciplinæ. Nam prima est de loquendo, secunda de eloquendo, tertia de
proloquendo, quarta de proloquiorum summa, quinta de iudicando, quæ
pertinet ad iudicationem poetarum et carminum, sexta de dictione, quæ
dicenda rhetoribus commodata est. IV. 336-338.

[55] See below, Chapter VI.

[56] The compend uses Cicero and Quintilian, Aristotle’s _Topics_, but
above all Aristotle’s _Categories_. See Dick _ad loc._

[57] Sed dum talibus perturbatur multa terrestrium plebs deorum, ecce
quædam sublimissimi corporis ac fiduciæ grandioris, uultus etiam decore
luculenta femina insignis ingreditur, cui galeatus uertex ac regali caput
maiestate sertatum, arma in manibus, quibus se uel communire solita
uel aduersarios uulnerare, fulminea quadam coruscatione renidebant.
Subarmalis autem uestis illi peplo quodam circa humeros inuoluto
Latiariter tegebatur, quod omnium figurarum lumine uariatum cunctorum
schemata præferebat, pectus autem exquisitissimis gemmarum coloribus
subbalteatum. Hæc cum in progressu arma concusserat, uelut fulgoreæ
nubis fragore colliso bombis dissultantibus fracta diceres crepitare
tonitrua; denique creditum quod instar Iouis eadem posset etiam fulmina
iaculari. Nam ueluti potens rerum omnium regina et impellere quo uellet
et unde uellet deducere, et in lacrimas flectere et in rabiem concitare,
et in alios etiam uultus sensusque conuertere tam urbes quam exercitus
prœliantes, quæcumque poterat agmina populorum. V. 426-27.

[58] The sections on figures (523-555) are taken almost verbatim from
Aquila Romanus. The preceding sections on _clausula_ are based on
Cicero. _Color_ is used also (e.g. 471) as by Seneca Rhetor (ARP 98).
The frequent agreement of Fortunatianus with this book is shown by Dick
_ad loc._ In comparison with the medieval vogue of the whole work, the
influence of this book seems small. John of Salisbury’s _Metalogicus_,
for instance, citing Martianus a dozen times, never refers to it.

[59] About 490-575.

[60] He is used, for instance, by Remi of Auxerre, and appears in the
tenth-century library of Chartres (Clerval, 21). For other references see
Manitius and Manacorda. The _Institutiones_ are in MGH.

[61] About 570-636; Bishop of Seville about 600. _Etymologiæ_ edited by
Lindsay, Oxford, 1910.

To the usual general books of reference add Labriolle.

[62] See below, Chapter VI. D. 2.

[63] If Isidore’s concision seems to involve him here in a non-sequitur,
he is not the first, nor the last, to force the rhetoric that he heard
under the rhetoric that he read.

[64] _Rhythmus_ is defined vaguely as follows: “Huic adhæret rythmus, qui
non est certo fine moderatus, sed tamen rationabiliter ordinatis pedibus
currit; qui Latine nihil aliud quam numerus dicitur.” I. xxxix.

[65] See the indexes to ARP and to this volume.

[66] For divisions of _philosophia_, see below, Chapter VI.

CHAPTER IV

POETIC, OLD AND NEW (FIFTH TO SEVENTH CENTURIES)

REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS

AH Dreves and Blume, _Analecta hymnica medii ævi_, Leipzig,
vol. 1, 1886; vol. 53, 1911.

ARP Baldwin (C. S.), _Ancient rhetoric and poetic_,
New York, 1924.

Britt Britt (the Rev. Matthew, O. S. B.), _The hymns of the
Breviary and Missal_, New York, 1922.

CSE _Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum_, Vienna.

Keil Keil (H.), _Grammatici latini_, Leipzig, 1870-1880, 7 vols.

Mearns Mearns (J.), _Early Latin hymnaries_, an index of hymns in
hymnaries before 1100, Cambridge (University Press), 1913.

MGH _Monumenta Germaniæ historica_ (cited by page of the
appropriate volume).

PL _Patrologia latina_, Migne (cited by volume and column).

A. CLAUDIAN AND BOETHIUS

Lack of literary vitality must show itself conspicuously in poetry.
Claudian[1] at the end of the fourth century is typical of the
fashionable versified rhetoric. Poet of those who taught and quoted
Vergil, but liked Lucan and Statius, he is imitative fluently, prettily,
and, except for a certain monotony, expertly. His _Raptus Proserpinæ_ had
the longer life, doubtless, because the abundant allusions and decorative
descriptions give literary atmosphere without taxing either memory or
imagination, and because, though diffuse, it is briefer than much verse
narrative current in its time. Most of Claudian’s other poems were
occasional, and faded with the occasion.

But the old modes, for all the trivial use of them, were not spent.
Boethius[2] showed himself here too the last of the Romans. The man who
interpreted to century after century the logic of Aristotle was a poet.
Not only is the _Consolatio philosophiæ_ poetic in conception; its lyric
interludes are so far above the facile expertness of the time as to
suggest comparison with the best Latin achievement. Nothing less was the
inspiration of their firm and various technic. Though he seems at first
like his contemporaries in looking backward to what was going or gone,
he knew better than they what to look for in the Roman tradition. He is
never either archaist or sophist. Images of classical reminiscence are
used with fresh realization of their source in the sounds and colors of
sea and fields and clouds. They are not tags, nor merely allusions, nor
decoration. So used, they have much the same freshness as of old, or as
the poet’s own immediate observation.

Visebat gelidæ sidera lunæ[3]

is at once old and original; and the last line of this poem focuses the
whole in a pregnant phrase:

Cogitur, heu! stolidam cernere terram.

Conceived by him habitually in cosmical aspects, nature none the less
struck his senses in distinct detail. The philosopher was a poet.

Boethius thus revived the old poetic terseness, as in

Desuper in terram nox funditur,[4]

not merely because he was too original and too serious to be deviated by
the literary habit of dilation, but because he grasped constructively the
economy set forth in the _De sublimitate_[5] as a poetic principle.

Ah! how sheer is the deep flooding my spirit!
Light of my own is lost; alien darkness
Daunts and deludes my soul. Swollen by wind-storms
Charged with vapors of earth, often returning,
Care like a poison spreads infinite languor.[6]

Having thus suggested the mood of oppression through images of the blind
frustration of man by the heavens and the earth, the lyric contrasts the
first, joyous contemplation of nature “under the open sky,” advances
to the inevitable later pondering upon the causes of movements so
stupendous, and returns to the unyielding inertia of environment, still
sharply imaged, but now carried from mood to conviction. The essentially
poetic composition of his lyrics saves them from what would otherwise
seem too intellectual solutions. _Stolidam cernere terram_ is, indeed,
as some other closes of his, a logical conclusion; but it is not reached
by a logical process, nor is it mere epigram. It is the final satisfying
image of a composition intensely and progressively imaginative. The
immense medieval vogue of the _Consolatio_ must often have reminded apt
spirits of the true method of poetry.

In detail also Boethius set a chastening example. The spiritual elevation
of this very lyric may have suggested for hymns[7] a measure that
otherwise would hardly have seemed available. Analysis reveals a fondness
for cæsural effects of syncope, for rime, and for subtler recurrences.
The next lines are:

Hic quondam cæl_o_ liber apert_o_
Suetus in ætheri_os_ ire meat_us_
Cernebat rosei lumina solis,
Visebat gelid_æ_ sidera lun_æ_
Et qu_æ_cumque uag_os_ stella recurs_us_
Exercet uari_os_ flexa per _or_bes,
Comprensam numeris uict_or_ habebat.
Quin etiam causas unde son_or_a....

But the italics exaggerate recurrences which to the ear are not
exaggerated. Boethius does not remind us of literary devices. He never
descends to word-play. His rime[8] is neither insistent nor inclined to
the later art of stanzas. It is merged in the other suggestions of a
various harmony.

The third measure of the third book, echoed now and then in hymns, slows
its pace not only by the cæsural pause, but by the predominance of
spondees at the onset.

Quamuis fluente diues auri gurgite
Non expleturas cogat auarus opes
Oneretque bacis colla rubri litoris
Ruraque centeno scindat opima boue,
Nec cura mordax deseret superstitem,
Defunctumque leues non comitantur opes.

Such reflective lyrics were so readily assimilated to medieval thought
that their grave and restrained form must have been instructive in the
centuries of poetic transition.

B. PRUDENTIUS, SEDULIUS, FORTUNATUS

Prudentius[9] devoted much capable and dignified verse in many meters and
in several distinct literary forms entirely to the service of religion.
The _Psychomachia_, in some nine hundred hexameters, is an allegory of
the soul’s warfare. Such description as that which introduces Avarice[10]
handed on from Roman antiquity to the middle age the poetic habit of
presenting personified abstractions by appropriate costume, gesture, and
speech. The habit is allegory in its most obvious form; the method is the
descriptive ecphrasis[11] transferring to poetry the rhetorical doctrine
of appropriateness. It is the method of Martianus Capella in the same age
and of Alain de Lille in the thirteenth century.[12]

Reviewing his life in the preface to the _Days_ (_Cathemerinon_),
Prudentius seeks a poetry proper to his old age in hymns.

Hymnis continuet dies,
Nec nox ulla vacet, quin Dominum canat.

The twelve poems that follow, cast in nine different measures, are
lyric reflections on the daily recurrences of cockcrow, food or fast,
lamplighting, sleep; or on the festal recurrences of Christmas or
Epiphany. They are poems of some length, not hymns in the specific sense
to which the word was soon limited. But stanzas selected from them were
combined to make the Breviary hymns for Lauds on Tuesday, Wednesday, and
Thursday, and for the feasts of the Holy Innocents, the Epiphany, and the
Transfiguration. Almost equally familiar in the middle age was the _Corde
natus_[13] hymn taken from the ninth poem.

The _Crowns_ (_Peristephanon_) is a group of fourteen poems commemorating
martyrs. Some are even longer than those of the preceding group; and
the narrative of St. Romanus extends to eleven hundred iambic trimeters
in five-line stanzas. Other lyric stanzas are pressed into the service
of narrative, as well as the better adapted hexameter and elegiac.
There is little narrative movement. What Prudentius sought was detailed
description, the making of martyrdom vivid. This, rather than the vogue
of _declamatio_,[14] explains a certain diffuseness and the violence of
many physical horrors of torture and execution. His descriptive habit is
utterly different from Claudian’s. That he was not thinking of rhetoric
seems sufficiently evident from his ignoring the recipes of encomium.[15]

The remaining verses of Prudentius, nearly four thousand hexameters,
more than one-third of his work, present theology by exposition and
argument.[16]

The main work of Sedulius[17] is a hexameter paraphrase of the Bible;
but he is better known for his _Carmen paschale_ because this gave to the
Breviary two hymns.[18] Its rimes suggest increasing inclination toward
regularity, forecasting the time when what the ancient prosody felt as
a device of style was to become a device of composition, a recognized
method of emphasizing words and of making stanzas.

But rime was recognized slowly as a composing principle. Fortunatus[19]
in the next century used it often enough, indeed, to show intention, but
still incidentally. His famous hymn _Vexilla regis_, ignoring rime in
its first quatrain, ends every line of the second with the same sound,
and three of them with double rime.[20] Contemporary interest in meter
appears in the poem replying to Gregory’s request for Sapphics.[21] Most
of his many other graceful occasional poems are in elegiacs. One other
hymn achieved a fame second only to that of the _Vexilla regis_, the
_Pange, lingua, gloriosi_. These two great Passion hymns may be taken
as typical of the transitional poetic of the time. They are at once old
and new. Each is a veritable hymn, not adapted as were the selections
from Prudentius, but composed in a popular measure for community singing.
Turning back to them from their successors of the great medieval period,
one almost inevitably renders them with the same strong stresses. So
read, they seem not to lose, but to gain in emphasis and swing. Who
shall prove that they were not so rendered in the poet’s own time? But
who shall prove that they were? Against such rendering is clear evidence
that Fortunatus controlled expertly the ancient quantitative prosody. For
it are, first, the measures themselves, which come from popular verse
accentual even in ancient Rome, and, second, a shift of speaking habit
spreading slowly through the new Roman world. Both these must now be
examined.

C. THE EARLIER LATIN HYMNS[22]

O lux beata Trinitas
Et principalis Unitas,
Iam sol recedit igneus;
Infunde lumen cordibus.

Te mane laudum carmine
Te deprecamur vespere;
Te nostra supplex gloria
Per cuncta laudet sæcula.[23]

Here is new poetry, and the beginning of a new poetic. Not graver than
Boethius in rejecting decoration, not terser in rejecting dilation, it
is more direct, more simply responsive. The communal expression, the
imaginative answer of people united, is as distinct poetically from
individual reflection as is the communal hope from pensive resignation.
The hope that Boethius had, but did not express in his _Consolatio_,
appears here as above all a communal inspiration. The hymns are popular
essentially in being the poetry of a society, the kingdom of heaven.
Often intensely lyric, they express typically in these earlier centuries
the emotions of a community. Their poets, many of them soon forgotten, if
ever known, without thought of individual fame sought to give voice to
what all felt together. The wide and continued vogue of the early hymns
testifies to the validity of their popular poetic.

Their popularity is conspicuous in their verse. The measure above may be
found, indeed, among learned poets; but it is originally and usually the
verse of common people. Latin popular verse, even in classical times,
was probably accentual. Though still called by the grammarians dimeter,
this particular measure is certainly accentual as it is used in hymns of
later centuries, and as it is rendered later even in hymns of this early
period. Is it accentual as rendered even here at the beginning of Latin
hymnody? The answer, though still disputed, has been much advanced in the
last fifty years. To begin with clear terms, _accentual_ means controlled
by stresses; _quantitative_, controlled by time. All verse beyond mere
mechanical exercise and doggerel has both elements; but every verse has
one or the other for its control, its rhythm. All verse is something
like dance, something like song; but every verse is dominated by the
one rhythm or the other. In this sense English verse is accentual. Every
expert English poet regards time also, as he is aware of alliteration or
subtler recurrences, or as he uses rime; but he sets and holds his rhythm
by stresses. In this sense modern French verse is quantitative. Though it
regards other elements, including stress, it makes time, as English verse
does not, essential in its pattern. The same difference distinguishes
the verse of Bernard of Morlaix from the verse of Vergil, and generally
medieval Latin verse from ancient. Medieval Latin verse has a different
rhythm. Probably the new rhythmical habit began early.

But when we try to determine dates, we should remember that old
verse habits give way to new gradually. Poetic does not progress by
revolutions. The decorative habit of the _Roman de la Rose_, though
it is now a curious piece of antiquity, survived long after Chaucer
had outgrown it and had even exploded it in satire. In verse, too, the
three centuries including Chaucer help us to understand the centuries
from Sedulius to Bede. With other court poets, Chaucer was bilingual.
He not only understood and spoke French; he had French verse in his
subconscious mind. True, the French verse of his time shows, more than
that of to-day, awareness of stress. The two rhythms were so much less
distinct that Chaucer could more easily turn French to the profit of his
own development in metric. None the less his rhythm is English. In spite
of his ready tolerance of a shift of stress in foreign words, and of the
enhancing of his harmonies by long vowels, his rhythm, the pattern or
control of his verse, is consistently accentual. The first great English
poet, as he used French, indeed, but turned for his poetry to English,
kept no less confidently English rhythm.

In the fourth century Latin verse showed distinctly side by side two
rhythms. Quantitative verse, long confirmed by Greek example and often
directly imitative of Greek models, held the field of culture. The verse
of Horace, Vergil, Ovid, it imposed itself upon all educated poets.
Its influence controlled the schools through the archaistic teaching
of style; and its quantitative prosody continued for centuries to be
taught as part of _grammatica_. But all this while another rhythm was
heard from the mouths of soldiers in songs of marching beat. What is
somewhat indefinitely known as Saturnian verse moved beneath and behind
literature, sometimes broke in half-conscious echoes through learned
poetry, then gained the ground lost by literary standards, and finally
won recognition as valid poetry in the hymns.[24]

Eventually the manuals of metric, which in any age proverbially lag
behind current habit, distinguished the new verse by a new application of
an old name. They called it _rhythmus_. The ancient quantitative verse is
generally referred to in the middle age as _metrum_ (_metra_, _metricus_,
etc.); the new Latin verse, as _rhythmus_ (_rithmus_, _rithmicus_, etc.).
Bede’s _De arte metrica_, written early in the eighth century and widely
used as a textbook, distinguishes as follows:

Rhythm is seen moreover to be like meter in that it is a
harmonized pattern of words, not planned metrically, but
adjusted by recurrence of syllables to the judgment of the
ear, as are the songs of popular poets. Though there can be
rhythm without meter, there cannot be meter without rhythm.
The distinction may be stated more clearly thus: meter is
regularity with harmony; rhythm is harmony without regularity.
But often you will find in rhythm even regularity, kept not by
the modes of [ancient] art, but by the sound and by the lead
of the harmony itself. This, though popular poets must do it
rudely, expert poets may do expertly. In this manner was most
beautifully composed, with resemblance to iambic meter, that
famous hymn

Rex æterne domine,
rerum creator omnium,
qui eras ante sæcula
semper cum patre filius,

and other Ambrosians not a few. So in the fashion of trochaic
meter is sung the alphabetical hymn on the day of judgment:

Apparebit repentina
dies magna domini,
fur obscura velut nocte
improvisos occupans.[25]

Bede is apparently feeling his way, and evidently trying to find
warrant for a new poetic in ancient authority. Victorinus, whom he
is quoting,[26] may intend by _rhythmus_ and _numerus_ nothing more
than their older, more general sense. Bede’s variations and additions
make specific and unmistakable application to the verse of the hymns
as distinct from _metra_. The testimony, first to the new habit, and
secondly to the recognition of it as a valid and beautiful poetic, is
testimony to fact. In a schoolbook of the early eighth century Ambrosians
are exhibited as _rhythmi_; and _rhythmi_ are recognized as a distinct,
self-sufficient method of verse.

Though the change of verse habit was slow, though _metra_ were composed
long after _rhythmi_ had won the field, and though on the other hand
even early hymns that are metrically correct may have been rendered as
_rhythmi_, the progressive prevalence of accentual composition can hardly
be doubted; for it answers a shift in the habit of speech itself. By the
seventh century Latin was no longer spoken even by the learned, much less
by the average monk in England or Spain, as it had been spoken by Cicero.
The change of speech tune, doubtless more rapid among men not born to
the language, certainly unequal and gradual, seems to be a fact in the
history of the language.[27]

Some of the earliest verse generally recognized as _rhythmus_ comes
from Ireland.[28] The earliest known hymn manuscript is the so-called
Antiphonary of [Irish] Bangor,[29] which is not an antiphonary, but a
collection of hymns, prayers, and canticles. In poetic art these range
all the way from measures of noble beauty, some of which appear to have
been composed as _metra_, to mnemonic jingle. The following hymn is
probably of the fifth or sixth century:

Ignis creator igneus,
Lumen, donator luminis,
Vitaque vitæ conditor,
Dator salutis et salus,

Ne noctis huius gaudia
Vigil lucerna deserat,
Qui hominem non vis mori,
Da nostro lumen pectori.

Folio 11, _recto_; AH 51: 296.

On its face this is a _metrum_, the familiar iambic dimeter. Rendered
as a _rhythmus_, it would freely disregard quantities, stress the final
syllable of each line, and elsewhere generally stress the word-accent:
ígnis creâtor ígneús. Though either measure is satisfying, the safer
assumption is that the composer intended a _metrum_.

Probably even older, on the other hand, is St. Sechnall’s (Secundinus,
fifth century) fervent but rude praise of St. Patrick in twenty-three
stanzas beginning with the successive letters of the alphabet.

Audite, omnes amantes
Deum, sancta merita
Viri in Christo beati,
Patricii episcopi,
Quomodo bonum ob actum
similatur angelis
Perfectamque propter vitam
æquatur apostolis.

Beata Christi custodit
mandata in omnibus,
Cuius opera refulgent
clara inter homines,
Sanctumque cuius sequuntur
exemplum mirificum,
Unde et in cælis patrem
magnificant Dominum....

Folio 13, _verso_; AH 51: 340.

Here the ignoring of quantities is such as to preclude a _metrum_.[30]
But accentual interpretation also is difficult. Read as a _rhythmus_
based on the _Corde natus_ measure,[31] which was frequently thus used
later, it moves tolerably in certain stanzas (e.g., 4 and 7), but in
others, including the two quoted, intolerably violates word-accent. Read
by word-accent as a _rhythmus_ of three stresses, it makes extravagant
use of two intervening unstressed syllables.[32] Indeed, without some
clearer clue than has yet been offered, we can hardly be sure what
measure was intended.[33] Much less should we regard it as representative
of the early poetic capacity of _rhythmus_. That capacity is amply
vindicated in other hymns of this very manuscript.

1. Iambic

Examination of the early hymns measure by measure begins with St.
Ambrose, Bishop of Milan at the end of the fourth century. Both his own
fame and the recognition of a typical stanza appear in the general use
of the adjective Ambrosian to describe many hymns of unknown authorship
and sometimes of uncertain date. The canon of his own hymns has, indeed,
been determined;[34] but it is less important than his achievement of a
type. His answer to a common need established a common form. He had the
discernment, first, to select a popular measure often used accentually,
and then so to use it as to obey both the popular stress habit and the
learned poetic of quantity. That his hymns are valid either as _metra_
or as _rhythmi_ means, though his regard for word-accent shows that he
foresaw the latter rendering, that they must have been composed in the
former, and probably that time rhythm was still heard in speech. The
increase of the stress habit gradually worked a transformation. The
regular dactylic close hardly satisfying so short a line, the final
syllable, which even in the ancient metric might be long sometimes, came
to be stressed always. As a _metrum_ the iambic dimeter ran _Ætērnĕ
rērūm cōndĭtŏr_; as a _rhythmus_ it became _Ætérne rérum cónditór_.
The effect, though different, is not inferior. For the distinctive
verse values of _rhythmi_, heard at their best in later hymns freely
so composed, can be discerned even here in the earliest centuries by
rendering as _rhythmi_—as in fact they came to be rendered—two of the
most familiar hymns taken from the dimeters of Prudentius.

Ales diei nuntius
Lucem propinquam præcinit:
Nos excitator mentium
Iam Christus ad vitam vocat.

Auferte, clamat, lectulos
Ægros, sopores desides:
Castique, recti, ac sobrii
Vigilate, iam sum proximus....

_Cathemerinon_ i. 1: AH 50: 23.

Salvete flores martyrum,
Quos lucis ipso in limine
Christi insecutor sustulit,
Ceu turbo nascentes rosas.

Quid crimen Herodem iuvat?
Vos prima Christi victima,
Grex immolatorum tener,
Palma et coronis luditis....

_Cathemerinon_ xii. 125: AH 50: 27.

The accentual habit spread slowly and intermittently as a change of
control from one element of verse to another. Both elements continued
in the better hymns to vary and enhance what must otherwise become
monotonous or bald; but the control, the rhythm, gradually changed from
time to stress. Variety through shifting the places of stress[35] appears
in several hymns of the sixth century. The Ambrosian quoted by Bede as an
example of _rhythmus_[36] even begins with a stress;[37] and the probable
following of word-accent often gives a dactylic opening.

Réx ætérne, Dóminé,
Rérum creátor ómniúm,
Qui éras ánte sǽculá
Sémper cum pátre fíliús,

Qui múndi ín primórdió
Ádam plasmásti hóminém,
Cuí tuaé imáginís
Vúltum dedísti símilém; ...

AH 51: 5.

Similar variations appear in the “Versus Flavii ad Mandatum.”

Téllus ac ǽthra iúbilént
In mágni céna príncipís,
Quæ prótoplásti péctorá
Vítæ purgávit férculó.

Hac nócte fáctor ómniúm
Poténti sát mystérió
Cárnem súam cum sánguiné
In éscam tránsfert ánimǽ....

AH 51: 77.

Though possible lingering or revival of a sense of quantities, and the
shifting pronunciation of proper names, leave uncertainties (as above,
for example in _Adam_ and _vitæ_), there is little doubt that such
variations were not only accepted, but even sought. They often relieve
dubious measures; and conversely they are sometimes used in ruder
_rhythmi_ so excessively as to blur the verse pattern. One of the Bangor
hymns seems to run best as follows:

Médiæ nóctis témpus ést;
Prophética vóx ádmonét,
Dicámus laúdes út Deó
Pátri sémper ac fílió

Sáncto quóque spírituí.
Perfécta énim trínitás
Úniúsque substántiǽ
Laudánda nóbis sémper ést....

Folio 11 _verso_; AH 51: 3.

If so, the syncope in line 2 serves to emphasize _vox_. But the verse
of this hymn is inferior.[38] The better hymns use the variations with
better art.

2. Trochaic

More immediately suggestive of accentual rendering was another
soldiers’ measure used by Prudentius in the first poem of his _Crowns_
(_Peristephanon_), a commemoration of two soldier martyrs. It was better
known through a hymn taken from the ninth poem of his _Days_.

Corde natus ex parentis ante mundi exordium,
A et O cognominatus, ipse fons et clausula
Omnium quæ sunt, fuerunt, quæque post futura sunt,

Ipse iussit, et creata; dixit ipse, et facta sunt:
Terra, cælum, fossa ponti, trina rerum machina,
Quæque in his vigent sub alto solis et lunæ globo,

Corporis formam caduci, membra morti obnoxia
Induit, ne gens periret primoplasti ex germine,
Merserat quem lex profundo noxialis tartaro....

_Cathemerinon_ ix. 10.[39]

Rendered as a _rhythmus_, as in the hymn quoted by Bede,[40] the measure,
besides ending with a stress, was often divided at the cæsura, to make
stanzas of six four-stress lines; for the original line is long to handle
singly; it tends to break. None of the other hymns taken from this poem
of Prudentius is so familiar and so stirring as this of Fortunatus:

Pange, lingua, gloriosi prælium certaminis,
Et super crucis tropæo dic triumphum nobilem,
Qualiter redemptor orbis immolatus vicerit.

De parentis protoplasti fraude factor condolens,
Quando pomi noxialis morte morsu conruit,
Ipse lignum tunc notavit, damna ligni ut solveret....

_Carmina_ II. ii; MGH 27.[41]

Possibly Fortunatus composed this as a _rhythmus_; more probably he
thought of the soldiers’ marching stresses as reinforcing his _metra_.
The long Bangor hymn ascribed to St. Hilary of Poitiers, and probably
very old,[42] is quoted with admiration by Bede[43] as a metrum.

Hymnum dicat turba fratrum,
hymnum cantus personet;
Christo regi concinnantes
laudem demus debitam.

Tu Dei de corde verbum,
tu via, tu veritas,
Iesse virga tu vocaris,
te leonem legimus.

Dextra patris, mons et agnus,
angularis tu lapis,
Sponsus idem vel columba,
flamma, pastor, ianua.

In prophetis inveniris
nostro natus sæculo;
Ante sæcla tu fuisti
factor primi sæculi....

Folio 3 _recto_; AH 51: 264.

It has the deeper significance of exhibiting an early form of medieval
symbolism.

The very different trochaic measure of the sixth-century Irish
“breastplate” hymn, with abrupt pauses and rime, seems clearly a
_rhythmus_, and deserves attention least of all for its art.

_Lorica sancti Gyldæ Sapientis_

Suffragare, * trinitatis unitas,
Unitatis * miserere trinitas.

Suffragare,
quæso, mihi posito
Maris magni
velut in periculo,
Ut non secum
trahat me mortalitas
Huius anni
neque mundi vanitas.

Et hoc idem
peto a sublimibus
cælestis mi-
litiæ virtutibus,
Ne me linquant
lacerandum hostibus,
Sed defendant
me iam armis fortibus....

AH 51: 358.

3. Other Measures

Less popular, more literary measures, though some of them were used
early in the hymnaries, seem to have been interpreted as _rhythmi_ more
slowly. This, indeed, is what one would expect; but the evidence is not
decisive. The Sapphic stanza, the beautiful meter of the second poem of
Boethius,[44] even iambic trimeter, were in time transformed. But in
hymns they were comparatively infrequent; and for other uses they were
revived with what seems clearly quantitative intention and achievement.
Either rendering is beautiful for one of the few Sapphic poems that are
essentially hymns, a hymn for Sunday Lauds.

Ecce iam noctis tenuatur umbra;
Lucis aurora rutilans coruscat;
Nisibus totis rogitemus omnes
Cunctipotentem,

Ut Deus nostri miseratus omnem
Pellat languorem, tribuat salutem,
Donet et patris pietate nobis
Regna polorum.

Præstet hoc nobis deitas beata
Patris et nati pariterque sancti
Spiritus, cuius reboatur omni
Gloria mundo.

AH 51: 31.[45]

The most striking verse in the Bangor manuscript is that of the familiar
Communion hymn.

Sancti, venite, Christi corpus sumite
Sanctum bibentes, quo redempti, sanguinem,

Salvati Christi corpore et sanguine,
A quo refecti laudes dicamus Deo,

Hoc sacramento corporis et sanguinis
Omnes exuti ab inferni faucibus.

Dator salutis, Christus filius Dei,
Mundum salvavit per crucem et sanguinem;

Pro universis immolatus Dominus
Ipse sacerdos exsistit et hostia....

Folio 10 _verso_; AH 51: 298.

The spondaic opening and the marked cæsura may be reminiscent of the
_Quamvis fluente dives auri gurgite_ of Boethius;[46] and the composition
is far superior to the Bangor habit in sense of time values. Not only
Irish and popular, but probably much older than this manuscript,[47]
the hymn may have been composed as a _metrum_. By either rendering it
is unusually, and at the same time expertly, free. Though the spread of
stress rhythm carried some verse that is rude and mechanical, as in this
manuscript, it did not of itself forfeit time values, and it opened in
the old language new effects of verse.

4. Poetic Conceptions

But the newness of the verse is at best less significant than the newness
of the poetry. A jaded world has been refreshed by new imaginative
expression. Bede’s exhibition of Christian poetry is not merely pious;
nor is it either timid or complacent. He is convinced of a new Latin
poetry. As Augustine redeemed rhetoric, so Ambrose transformed poetic, by
new motives. The tender image of the Holy Innocents playing with their
palms and crowns[48] is neither old nor new; it is the timeless language
of individual lyric. But the habitual conceptions of Prudentius and
Ambrose, of Hilary and Gregory, are not individual; they are communal.
The lyric of the hymns exalts the common emotions of common observance.
It is the poetry of aspirations shared not only with all Christians
everywhere, but with immediate companions turning work into worship. It
expresses the visions of a fellowship.

No exception is found in the early hymns commemorating martyrs. The
triumph is not personal. The individual heroism passes into the common
hope of released energy and of the triumph of the kingdom of God. As
early churches were built over the tombs of martyrs, and later additions
made the nave look both down to the original _confessione_ and up to the
high altar, so the martyr hymns express both a common gratitude and a
common devotion. So a hundred images of light, suggestions of dawn, noon,
stars, the ordinary lamp, the candle in church, lead not to individual
emotion, but to the poetry of theology.

In every light is the light of the world. The night-light (_vigil
lucerna_) leads up to the giver of light, the creative fire (_Ignis
creator igneus, Lumen donator luminis_).[49] Poetry discerns a new earth
because of a new heaven, and finds both one. The poets of the hymns do
not, as the Stoics, look down on the material world; they look through
it. They neither belittle physical reality nor bow to it; they go on from
it. Life in the hymns is not an urgent present and a visioned future;
it is all one. The frame of the Christian year opens in the hymns on
eternity. Eternal life begins now, and is not survival, but progressive
release of human energy by God. Thus the Incarnation is revealed by
Prudentius not in versified theology, but in poetic truth. It becomes a
cosmic vision.

Though this conception was widespread through the Prudentian hymn _Corde
natus_,[50] and though Prudentius was quite as much philosopher as poet,
literary influences are insufficient to account for the consistent
continuity of the hymns as thought. Even Fortunatus, who certainly was
no philosopher, was uplifted by common visions. The single line _Hymnum
dicat turba fratrum_[51] might be taken as a formula for the poetic
of the early hymns. Hilary discerned also the communal appeal of the
symbolism of the Old Testament, as Ambrose had discerned a communal
verse; but though the hymns owe much to individuals, the character of
their lyric grows from unifying communal conceptions of life.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Claudian wrote about 400, mainly in hexameters and elegiacs. Sidonius
refers to him; and he is often cited later as a model of verse.

[2] About 480-524. _Tractates_ and _De consolatione philosophiæ_, text
and translation, ed. Stewart (H. F.) and Rand (E. K.), London and New
York, 1918 (Loeb Classical Library). For bibliography, see Manitius I;
for introduction to the manifold significance, Stewart’s _Boethius, an
essay_, Edinburgh and London, 1891.

[3] _De consolatione philosophiæ_ I, Metr. ii. 9.

[4] I, Metr. iii. 6.

[5] ARP 126-127.

[6]

Heu quam præcipiti mersa profundo
Mens hebet et propria luce relicta
Tendit in externas ire tenebras,
Terrenis quotiens flatibus aucta
Crescit in immensum noxia cura.

I, Metr. ii. 1-5.

[7] Hymns echoing this measure may be traced in _Mearns_. Bede cites two,
which he erroneously ascribes to St. Ambrose (_De arte metrica_, Keil
VII. 255, 256).

[8] In this poem _or_ recurs at the same place in 11, 13, 15, 17, 18, 19;
22 rimes with 24 on _-entis_. The rime of adjective with noun is frequent
of course; but Boethius marks it by putting one at the cæsura, the other
at the end. His most frequent rimes of this sort are on _-as_. For the
recurrence of _-os_, _-us_, with neighboring _-o_ see III. ii. 32-35.

[9] Aurelius Prudentius Clemens, Spaniard, 348-about 410; prepared
a complete edition of his works 405. Often cited in the middle age,
his works were printed in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth
centuries, and have been studied often since. Lanfranchi reëdited the
Bodoni edition in 1894 (Turin, second ed., 1904).

See, besides Manitius, Boissier, Monceaux, and Glover: Puech, _Prudence,
étude sur la poésie latine chrétienne_, Paris, 1888; Lease, _A syntactic,
stylistic, and metrical study of P._, Baltimore, 1895; Maigret, _Le
poète chrétien P._, Paris, 1903; Ermini (F.), _Peristephànon, studi
Prudenziani_, Rome, 1914; Bergman, _Aulus Prudentius Clemens, der
grösste christliche Dichter des Alterthums_, Dorpat, 1921-1924.

[10] 454.

[11] See above, page 17.

[12] For Martianus Capella see above, Chapter III; for Alain, below,
Chapter VI.

[13] See below, C. 2.

[14] Puech, however, calls Prudentius in the _Peristephanon_ “l’un des
derniers représentants de la déclamation latine,” and perhaps with no
more warrant, “le prédécesseur des peintres castillans ou valenciens du
xvie ou du xviie siècle” (page 129).

[15] Nor has Prudentius, though he is fond of alliteration, much
word-play. His verse, rather strictly quantitative, seems undoubtedly to
have been so composed, though later it was rendered accentually.

[16] _Apotheosis_, 1089 verses on the Incarnation; _Hamartigenia_,
974 on the origin of sin; two books _Contra Symmachum_, 1756 directly
polemic. J. Bergman regards him as a pioneer even in these poems. After
pointing out the influence of the _Psychomachia_ on the whole middle age,
he adds that _Apotheosis_ and _Hamartigenia_ are “kühne Versuche, die
kühnsten seit Lucretius’ Tagen, Philosophie in Form einer Dichtung zu
bieten.” _Aulus Prudentius Clemens, der grösste christliche Dichter des
Alterthums_, Dorpat (Acta et Comment. Univer. II. 1), 1924.

[17] Fifth century; works in CSE and in PL.

Bede praises Sedulius for internal rime in hexameters. “Optima autem
versus dactylici ac pulcherrima compositio est cum primis pænultima ac
mediis respondent extrema, qua Sedulius frequenter uti consuevit, ut

pervi_a_ divis_i_ patuerunt cærul_a_ pont_i_

sicc_a_ peregrin_as_ stupuerunt marmor_a_ plant_as_....

Non tamen hoc continuatim agendum, verum post aliquot interpositos
versus.” _De arte metrica_, Keil VII. 244.

[18] _A solis ortus cardine_ for Lauds on Christmas Day, and _Crudelis
Herodes, Deum_ for Epiphany Vespers (AH 50: 58).

[19] Venantius Honorius Clementianus Fortunatus, about 530-600; went from
Italy to Gaul, 565; Bishop of Poitiers, 599. Works, ed. Leo, MGH.

See, besides the general works, Elss, _Untersuchungen über den Stil und
die Sprache des Venantius Fortunatus_, Heidelberg, 1907.

[20] Rime appears early in Irish hymns. See AH 51, Part II.

[21] _Carmina_ IX. vi.

[22] An excellent introductory summary is that of Blume (article
_hymnody_) in the _Catholic Encyclopedia_, which may also be consulted
for Ambrose, etc., and for some of the greater hymns. Britt makes the
best known Latin hymns available in one volume, with carefully selected
translations, trustworthy ascriptions, biographical and bibliographical
notes, indexes, and brief historical introduction. But this admirable
work, though otherwise constantly useful, does not give for most of the
hymns the earliest known text. This will be found, through the invaluable
index of Mearns, in AH. Other references will be found in Britt’s preface.

[23] St. Ambrose; Britt, 71; AH 51: 38.

[24] Recognition of the two methods of verse may be indicated by a line
of Fortunatus,

Quæque sunt rythmis vel amica metris,

in stanza 11 of _Carm._ IX. vii (MGH, page 212); but the two words are
not necessarily used with the distinction that is clear in Bede (below,
in next paragraph).

[25] Videtur autem rhythmus metris esse consimilis, quæ est verborum
modulata compositio, non metrica ratione, sed numero syllabarum ad
iudicium aurium examinata, ut sunt carmina vulgarium poetarum. Et quidem
rhythmus per se sine metro esse potest, metrum vero sine rhythmo esse non
potest; quod liquidius ita definitur: metrum est ratio cum modulatione,
rhythmus modulatio sine ratione. Plerumque tamen casu quodam invenies
etiam rationem in rhythmo, non artifici moderatione servata, sed sono et
ipsa modulatione ducente, quem vulgares poetæ necesse est rustice, docti
faciant docte. Quomodo et ad instar iambici metri pulcherrime factus est
hymnus ille præclarus ... et alii Ambrosiani non pauci. Item ad formam
metri trochaici canunt hymnum de die iudicii per alphabetum.... Keil VII.
258.

[26] The work, which is assigned by Keil to Maximus Victorinus, is headed
_Ars Palæmonis de Metrica Institutione_. It begins by defining _metrum_,
and then goes on: “Metro quid videtur consimile? Rhythmus. Rhythmus
quid est? Verborum modulata compositio non metrica ratione sed numerosa
scansione ad iudicium aurium examinata, ut puta veluti sunt cantica
poetarum vulgarium. Rhythmus ergo in metro non est? Potest esse. Quid
ergo distat a metro? Quod rhythmus per se sine metro esse potest, metrum
sine rhythmo esse non potest. Quod liquidius ita definitur, metrum est
ratio cum modulatione, rhythmus sine ratione metrica modulatio. Plerumque
tamen casu quodam etiam invenies rationem metricam in rhythmo, non
artificii observatione servata, sed sono et ipsa modulatione ducente.”
Keil VI. 206.

[27] The importance of the music for the interpretation of a measure
gives additional weight to what is in other respects the most specific
exposition of the verse of the early hymns, that of Pierre Aubry in _Le
rythme tonique dans la poésie liturgique et dans le chant des églises
chrétiennes au moyen âge_, Paris, 1903. For his conclusions as to verse,
and more widely as to language, are supported by his expert knowledge
of the early history of Church music. They may be indicated by a few
leading quotations. “Évolution du langage parlé vers le principe tonique
au quatrième et au cinquième siècle” (8). “La rythmique antique est
en voie de transformation ... transformation même que subissent les
langues de l’antiquité au seuil du moyen âge ... un principe nouveau
de vitalité linguistique: l’accent. L’ancienne prosodie, qui reposait
sur la distinction des syllabes en longues et en brèves, a disparu
dans l’usage vers le même temps. On ne connaît plus que des syllabes
accentuées et des syllabes atones. Un rythme d’intensité s’est substitué
au rythme quantitatif. L’accent vainqueur a tué la quantité” (54). “Les
langues liturgiques ... ont dans chaque mot une syllabe affectée d’un
accent tonique.... À l’époque qui nous occupe, cet accent est toujours
d’intensité ... ni plus d’acuité, ni plus de durée, mais plus de force”
(55). “Un poète comme Claudien faisait des vers latins à la façon d’un
amateur de vieux langage.... L’accent tonique prend un rôle de plus en
plus prépondérant.... Au septième siècle cette transformation est un
fait accompli” (57). “Telles hymnes de saint Ambroise, _Consors paterni
luminis_ par exemple, ou de saint Grégoire le Grand, par exemple _Rerum
Creator optime_, sont de pures strophes iambiques dimètres métriques,
tandisque le principe tonique domine dans l’hymne ambrosienne _Vox clara
ecce intonat_, et que dans cette autre, _Christe, Redemptor omnium_, il
est assez malaisé de déterminer les règles suivies par le poète” (60).
But even readers inexpert in music and in some of the languages quoted
will learn much by following the line of exposition throughout.

Aubry’s position as to the dominance of stress is supported by Gastoué,
_Les origines du chant romain_, Paris, 1907, chapter ii, pages 60-67.

[28] See AH 51, Part II, with Blume’s introduction.

[29] 681-691; reproduced in facsimile and transcribed by F. E. Warren for
the Henry Bradshaw Society, volume IV, London, 1892; edited and annotated
by him in volume X, 1895.

[30] Blume (AH 51: 345) calls it “der älteste uns bekannte rein
rhythmische Hymnus;” but by “rein” he too probably means that it has no
rhythm but syllabic equality. See note 33, below.

[31] See below, section 2.

[32] Nevertheless Benchuir bona regula (folio 30, _recto_; AH 51: 356)
may well be reconsidered in this aspect, as well as the two later Irish
hymns in AH 51: 351 and 352.

[33] A widespread explanation is that Irish hymns were often composed
with no other rhythm than equality between lines in the number of
syllables. Even the support of W. Meyer (see especially _Spanisches zur
Geschichte der ältesten mittellateinischen Rythmik_) and of Blume seems
insufficient to establish this theory against two grave objections. The
first objection is that _mere_ equality in number of syllables hardly
constitutes a pattern. It does not provide recurrences marked enough to
guide either composer or hearer. It is hardly verse. The idea that a
practise so mechanical actually became a habit is repugnant. The second
objection is that on this theory Irish Latin verse ignored not only
quantities, but word-accent—ignored, that is, either speech-tune. The
Irish monks of all men, the best linguists of Europe in this period,
were hardly the ones to write Latin verse by ignoring the habit of the
language. And in fact the following of the word-accent will often reveal
a stress rhythm sufficient for the ruder mnemonic verses and satisfying
in the better ones. Moreover this consideration is fortified by what we
know of the music (see note 27 above), which leaned on the word-accent.
True, such rendering sometimes involves two unstressed syllables in
succession, or conversely two stresses without intervention; but this
variation is a natural means against monotony. The pattern is kept by
the unvarying number of stresses in each line; variety is secured by
occasionally shifting their places. The idea that in this period iambic
or trochaic _rhythmi_ admitted no effects similar to the substitution
of dactyl or anapest in a _metrum_, or to a spondee, is an assumption
unwarranted by either theory or fact.

[34] Dreves (_Aurelius Ambrosius, der Vater des Kirchengesanges, eine
hymnologische Studie_, Freiburg, 1893) settles on the following eighteen
hymns, of which he prints the text and indicates the melodies.

(1) Æterne rerum conditor,
(2) Splendor paternæ gloriæ,
(3) Iam surgit hora tertia,
(4) Nunc sancte nobis Spiritus,
(5) Rector potens verax Deus,
(6) Rerum, deus, tenax vigor,
(7) Deus, creator omnium,
(8) Intende, qui regis Israel,
(9) Amore Christi nobilis,
(10) Inluminans altissimus,
(11) Agnes, beatæ virginis,
(12) Hic est dies verus Dei,
(13) Victor, Nabor, Felix, pii,
(14) Grates tibi, Iesu, novas,
(15) Apostolorum passio,
(16) Apostolorum supparem,
(17) Æterna Christi munera,
(18) Iesu, corona virginum.

[35] Compare _Ignis creator igneus_ above, page 114, and the latter part
of note 33.

[36] Above, page 111.

[37] Blume _ad loc._ notes that this opening is not unusual. The hymn is
mentioned by Cæsarius of Arles.

[38] So is that of the commemorative Bangor hymn _Sáncta sanctórum óperá_
at the end of the manuscript (folio 36 _verso_; AH 51: 357).

[39] The meter is – ⏓ – – – ⏓ – – – ⏑ – – – ⏑ ⏑ (with – ⏑ permissible
instead of – –) For other combinations of stanzas in hymns taken from
this poem see AH 50: 25-27.

[40] _Apparebit repentina_, above, page 111.

[41] Part of this, but also used separately, is _Lustra sex qui iam
peregit_.

[42] The evidence is reviewed by Blume, AH 51: 269-271.

[43] _De arte metrica_, Keil VII. 258.

[44] _De consol. philos._ I, Metr. ii. See above, page 101.

[45] Blume rejects the ascription to St. Gregory the Great; and the hymn
may belong to the next period. Cf. _Nocte surgentes vigilemus omnes_,
page 136. Any one who will render in time rhythm the most familiar of
all Sapphics, the “Integer vitæ” of Horace, then sing it to the familiar
college tune, then render it as a _rhythmus_, will realize practically
much of what is involved in interpreting a given text of this period of
transition. Greenough’s _Accentual rhythm in Latin_ (Harvard Studies IV.
105) pointed out in 1893 that quantitative correctness in medieval use of
the Sapphic does not preclude accentual preoccupation.

[46] _De consol. phil._ III, metrum iii; quoted above, page 103.

[47] See Blume _ad loc._ He admits the possibility, which seems far
from a probability, of reading this as a senarius, but prints it with
conviction as a four-verse stanza (dividing at the cæsura) after the
analogy of other Irish hymns. Some of these are in this manuscript; but
none is equal in art, and this one is not so written. I think it must
have been sung _Sánctí, veníté, Chrísti córpus súmité_, though _Sáncti,
veníte_ is a more frequent rhythmical opening.

[48] Second stanza of _Salvete flores martyrum_, above, section 1.

[49] Above, page 114.

[50] Page 119.

[51] Page 120.

CHAPTER V

THE CAROLINGIANS AND THE TENTH CENTURY

REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS

AH Dreves and Blume, _Analecta hymnica medii ævi_, Leipzig,
vol. 1, 1886; vol. 53, 1911.

ARP Baldwin (C. S.), _Ancient rhetoric and poetic_, New
York, 1924.

Clark Clark (J. M.), _The abbey of St. Gall ..._, Cambridge
University Press, 1926.

Ermini Ermini (F.), _Poeti epici latini del secolo X_, Rome, 1920.

Halm Halm (K.), _Rhetores latini minores_, Leipzig, 1863.

Keil Keil (H.), _Grammatici latini_, Leipzig, 1870-1880, 7 vols.

Manitius Manitius (M.), _Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur des
Mittelalters_, Munich, 1911, 2 vols. (in Von Mueller’s
Handbuch der klassischen Alterthums-Wissenschaft, IX. ii).

MGH _Monumenta Germaniæ historica_ (cited by page of the
appropriate volume).

PL Migne, _Patrologia latina_ (cited by volume and column).

A. THE TRIVIUM IN THE GREATER MONASTERIES

Hibernia, Northumbria, Francia were successively the seats of learning
in the period of readjustment after the invasions. Men born to Celtic
speech, to English, to Frankish learned the Latin culture and transmitted
it to the middle age. In the circumstances the writers of the eighth,
ninth, and tenth centuries were primarily teachers; and their chief field
was _grammatica_. The language of learning was no longer for any of them
common speech; it had to be acquired even by Italians and Gauls as a
second language and a superior. In compensation it was universal, halted
by no frontiers. The whole western world of culture was a _quartier
Latin_. _Scoti_, as the Irish Celts were commonly called, wrote and
taught in it by Humber, Rhine, or Loire; Bede wrote in it his _Church
History of the English People_; Alcuin was brought from the school
of York to apply it to the education of the Frankish empire, and his
companion and successor was the Bishop of Orléans, Theodulf, a Goth from
Spain.

_Grammatica_ became thus more important than ever. It opened not
only learning in general, not only literature, but especially the
interpretation of the liturgy, the offices, the creeds, and the
Scriptures. Charlemagne’s care was to secure a clergy that should be
first educated and then educating. The mission of the Church to teach
through the universal language of western Christianity was exercised
partly through the cathedrals, mainly through the monasteries. In these
centuries rose such great monastic schools as Fulda, St. Gall, and Tours.
As the physical preservation and circulation of texts depended on the
_scriptoria_, so on the masters of the monasteries depended not only
specific training for the religious life, but much of the more general
training in divinity and most of the seven liberal arts.

The monastic slant suggests a narrowing of culture. But the restriction
of the seven arts must have been due quite as much to those other
conditions which gave the preponderance to _grammatica_. The achievement
of the age was preparatory. That the age of preparation was also an age
of revival is witnessed best by the outstanding teachers. The _Scoti_ who
fled from the Danes to the Continent were remarkable no more for their
preservation of the last vestiges of Greek than for their intellectual
eagerness. They were a stirring leaven. The greater schools founded
during this period, such as that at Wearmouth to which English Benedict
had brought store of books from Rome and Vienne, show an impressive
succession of teachers: Bede, Alcuin, Rabanus, Loup, Remi, Gerbert.[1]
The former three are sufficient assurance that culture was safe; the
latter, that it was advancing.

A work on the Elements of Philosophy, ascribed to Bede, closes with the
following list:

The order of learning is as follows. Since _eloquentia_ is the
instrument of all teaching, they are instructed in it first.
Its three parts are correct writing and correct delivery
of what is written; proof of what is to be proved, which
_dialectica_ teaches; figures of words and sentences, which
_rhetorica_ hands down. Therefore we are to be initiated in
_grammatica_, then in _dialectica_, afterward in _rhetorica_.
Equipped with these arms, we should approach the study of
philosophy. Here the order is first the quadrivium, and in this
first _arithmetica_, second _musica_, third _geometria_, fourth
_astronomia_, then holy writ, so that through knowledge of what
is created we arrive at knowledge of the Creator.[2]

Toward the close of the tenth century the same order of studies, except
for the transposition of _geometria_ and _musica_, appears in the school
at Speier. Though the details of the reminiscences prefixed by Walter of
Speier to his _Passion of St. Christopher_[3] are obscured by figurative
language, allusions, and other devices of style, he shows unmistakably,
after his first lessons in psalmody, a full course of _grammatica_,
including much metric. His references seem also to indicate both the
elementary exercises beginning with _fabula_, and _prælectiones_ on
Vergil, Ovid, Horace’s _Ars poetica_, and the _metra_ of Boethius.
_Dialectica_, which he entered by the door of Porphyry, he recalls less
distinctly. _Rhetorica_, though remembered in her usual garb of flowers,
evidently included _declamatio_. By the end of the tenth century,
then, a typical monastic school, though still spending most time on
_grammatica_, seems to have offered an ample trivium.

B. _GRAMMATICA_

Donatus and Priscian, with the other grammarians of the declining
Empire,[4] kept their authority. They were successively adapted to
changing needs in manuals by Bede, Boniface, Paulus Diaconus, Alcuin,
Loup, Remi, Gerbert, Abbo, Ælfric. That _grammatica_ thus engaged the
best teachers of the time is evidence of its cardinal importance. At
Chartres, by the tenth century, _grammaticus_ was the usual name for
headmaster.[5]

The study of figures, both those usually included in _grammatica_ and
those assigned to _rhetorica_, was applied to the interpretation of
holy writ. Augustine[6] had pointed out that the Scriptures not only
use figures, but explicitly mention allegory and parable. Bede’s brief
summary _De schematibus et tropis sacræ scripturæ_[7] is thus typical
both of elementary teaching and of medieval habit of reading.

1. POETIC

That neither Bede nor Alcuin specifically defines _grammatica_ in the
traditional terms as including the study of Latin poetry may mean no
more than that neither wrote comprehensively on the whole subject. The
_prælectio_ can hardly have been neglected by the _Scoti_, or by Bede
himself. The definition of Rabanus in the ninth century[8] not only
resumes the whole ancient scope, but puts the interpretation of the poets
first. That Boethius was added to the list of classics[9] is significant
of the influence of his _metra_ even on the hymns.

When Bede tells his boys to look at all the first syllables[10] of a
manuscript page of hexameters, because these syllables must be long, he
is not precluding either nicer points of metric or wiser consideration of
poetry; he is very practically teaching Latin quantities. His book offers
much more; and though its subject is only metric, it takes pains to
distinguish rhythmic,[11] and closes with that classification of poetry
by Diomedes which was to be often repeated.

Since we have discussed at length poems and meters, it is to be
observed finally that the kinds of poetry are three. For it is
active, or imitative, what the Greeks entitle _dramaticon_ or
_mimeticon_; or narrative, what the Greeks style _exegematicon_
or _apangelticon_; or common, i.e. mixed, what the Greeks
call _cœnon_ or _micton_. That is _dramaticon_, or active,
in which the _personæ_ are presented as speaking without the
intervention of the poet, as in tragedies and fables, for
drama is called in Latin _fabula_. In this kind is written
“Quo te Moeri pedes? an quo via ducit, in urbem?” as also
among ourselves the Song of Songs, where the voice of Christ
and of the Church are clearly found to alternate without the
writer’s intervention. That is _exegematicon_, or narrative,
in which the poet himself speaks without the intervention of
any _persona_, as three books of the Georgics and the first
part of the fourth, as well as the poems of Lucretius and
others like them. In this kind our literature shows Proverbs
and Ecclesiastes, which are composed metrically in their
own language. _Cœnon_ or mixed, is the kind in which the
poet himself speaks and also the _personæ_ are presented as
speaking. So are written the Iliad and Odyssey of Homer, the
Æneid of Vergil, and with us the story of blessed Job, though
this in its own language is written not entirely as poetry, but
partly as prose, partly in _metra_ or in _rhythmi_.[12]

Far as this is not only from Aristotle, but from Vergil, the shift of
emphasis from composition to style remained for centuries characteristic
of medieval Latin poetic, and opened the way for the confusion of poetic
with rhetoric.

2. LATIN HYMNS

(1) Iambic

The best known hymn of this period is by Rabanus (ninth century).

Veni creator, Spiritus,
Mentes tuorum visita,
Imple superna gratia
Quæ tu creasti pectora.

Qui paracletus diceris,
Donum Dei altissimi,
Fons vivus, ignis, caritas
Et spiritalis unctio....

AH 50: 193.

This keeps generally the quantities of the metrical dimeter.[13] Rime
is insistent in ruder hymns. The two following, Irish of the eighth
century, though substantially correct as _metra_ in some stanzas, seem
to be _rhythmi_. The first is alphabetical; the second, a _lorica_. As
_rhythmi_ they are relieved by shift of stress in the places indicated,
and probably intend it elsewhere; i.e., they are most satisfactorily
read by word-accent.

R. Assint nobis sublimia
Sancti Petri suffragia.

Audite, fratres, famina
Petri pastoris plurima.
Baptismatis libamina
Fudit veluti flumina.

Bís refúlsit ut fulmine
Sacro sanctorum agmine;
Fléntes dúxit ex ordine
Gentes divino carmine....

AH 51: 347.

O rex, O rector regminis,
O cultor cæli carminis,
O persecutor murmuris,
O Deus alti agminis.

Aido, mech Prich, benevola
Posco puro precamina,
Út refrígeret flumina
Méi cápitis calida;

Curet caput cum renibus
Méis átque cum talibus,
Cum oculis et genibus,
Cum auribus et naribus,

Cum ancylis euntibus,
Cum fistulis sonantibus,
Cum lingua atque dentibus,
Cum lacrimarum fontibus.

Sanctus Aid altus adiuvet,
Meum caput ut liberet,
Ut hoc totum perseveret
Sánum, átque pervigilet.

AH 51: 315.

(2) Trochaic

Rhythmical use of the _Corde natus_ measure[14] is suggested by frequent
disregard of the distinction in the original meter between trochee and
spondee within the line, and of the dactyl at the end.[15] The popular
swing of this _rhythmus_ is felt in a well known hymn of the eighth
century:

Urbs beata Hierusalem, dicta pacis visio,
Quæ construitur in cælis vivis ex lapidibus,
Et angelis coornata ut sponsata comite!

Nova veniens e cælo, nuptiali thalamo
Præparata ut sponsata, copulatur Domino.
Plateæ et muri eius ex auro purissimo;

Portæ nitent margaritis, adytis patentibus
Et virtute meritorum illuc introducitur
Omnis qui pro Christi nomine hic in mundo premitur....

AH 51: 110.[16]

Freer use, with both end-rime and occasional internal rime,[17] as in
lines 3 and 5 above, appears in an Irish hymn ascribed to St. Cuchuimne.

Cantemus in omni die
concinnantes varie,
Conclamantes Deo dignum
hymnum sanctæ Mariæ.

Bis per chorum, hinc et inde,
collaudemus Mariam,
Ut vox pulset omnem aurem
per laudem vicariam.

Maria de tribu Iuda,
summi mater Domini,
Opportunam dedit curam
ægrotanti homini.

Gabriel advexit verbum,
sinu patris paterno
Quod conceptum et susceptum
in utero materno....

AH 51: 305.

A Septuagesima hymn in a tenth-century manuscript is so united by the
iteration of _Alleluia_ that the poet felt no need of rime.

Alleluia, dulce carmen, vox perennis gaudii,
Alleluia laus suavis est choris cælestibus,
Quod canunt Dei manentes in domo per sæcula.

Alleluia læta, mater, concinis, Ierusalem,
Alleluia vox tuorum civium gaudentium;
Exsules nos flere cogunt Babylonis flumina....

AH 51: 52.

A much simpler trochaic measure is heard in one of the most popular of
medieval hymns. Found in a manuscript of the ninth century, it may well
be earlier.

Ave, maris stella,
Dei mater alma
Atque semper virgo,
Felix cæli porta.

Sumens illud Ave
Gabrielis ore,
Funda nos in pace
Mutans nomen Evæ....

AH 51: 140.

(3) Other Measures

Sapphics, which of course exercised the skill of the learned,[18] are
occasionally convincing in a hymn.

Nocte surgentes vigilemus omnes,
Semper in psalmis meditemur atque
Viribus totis Domino canamus
Dulciter hymnos,

Ut pio regi pariter canentes
Cum suis Sanctis mereamur aulam
Ingredi cæli simul et beatam
Ducere vitam.

Præstet hoc nobis deitas beata
Patris et nati pariterque sancti
Spiritus, cuius reboatur omni
Gloria mundo.

AH 51: 26.

One Sapphic, doubtfully ascribed to Paulus Diaconus, had currency enough
to furnish later a memory stanza for the notes of the scale.

UT queant laxis REsonare fibris
MIra gestorum FAmuli tuorum,
SOLve polluti LAbii reatum,
Sancte Iohannes....

MGH, _Poet. lat. Carol._ I. 83.

The striking measure of _Sancti venite_[19] is not forgotten.

Felix per omnes festum mundi cardines
Apostolorum præpollet alacriter
Petri beati, Pauli sacratissimi,
Quos Christus almo consecravit sanguine:
Ecclesiarum deputavit principes....

MGH, _Poet. lat. Carol._ I. 136; AH 50: 141.

The second measure of Boethius, exhibited by Bede in two poems,[20] is
echoed in the _Tanquam præcipitans turbo regentes_ of Sedulius Scotus[21]
and appears in a fine Assumption hymn of the ninth century.

O quam glorifica luce coruscas,
Stirpis Davidicæ regia proles,
Sublimis residens, virgo Maria,
Supra cæligenas ætheris omnes!

Tu cum virgineo, mater, honore
Angelorum domino pectoris aulam
Sacris visceribus casta parasti;
Natus hinc Deus est corpore Christus....

AH 51: 146.

In a few hymns of this period the measure seems to be derived from one
used twice by Prudentius.[22]

En cæli rutilant lumine splendido,
Testantur dominum nascere parvulum,
Qui format minima et qui creat ardua;
Regni sceptra tenens, est Deus atque homo....

MGH, _Poet. lat. Carol._ II. 247.

A _rhythmus_ of uncertain date is most plausibly assigned to
tenth-century Verona.[23]

O Roma nobilis, orbis et domina,
Cunctarum urbium excellentissima,
Roseo martyrum sanguine rubea
Albis et virginum liliis candida,
Salutem dicimus tibi per omnia,
Te benedicimus, salve per sæcula.

Petre, tu præpotens cælorum claviger,
Vota precantium exaudi iugiter;
Cum bis sex tribuum sederis arbiter,
Factus placabilis iudica leniter
Teque petentibus nunc temporaliter
Ferto suffragia misericorditer.

O Paule, suscipe nostra precamina,
Cuius philosophos vicit industria;
Factus œconomus in domo regia
Divini muneris adpone fercula,
Ut, quæ repleverit te, sapientia
Ipsa nos repleat tua per dogmata.

AH 51: 219.

To read this as a rhythmical senarius disregards not only many
quantities, as might be expected, but also many word-accents. The
measure of the hymn just above is suggested by the doubly dactylic
close and the generally long and stressed opening. But so to render it
is again to violate many word-accents, including almost all those of
the characteristic second foot. The word-accent is generally kept by
rendering:

Ó Roma nóbilis, órbis et dómina.[24]

It is hard not to think that at least the final rhythmical dactyls were
in the composer’s mind. If so, we have rhythmical dactyls not only as
occasional substitutions, but as constituent; and the easiest rendering
makes them constitute the whole measure.

Carolingian hymn-writers ranged in art all the way from the expert and
fluent metrist Sedulius Scotus to the undisciplined Gottschalk,[25] who
would write twelve stanzas on a single rime such as _Christe, mearum |
Lux tenebrarum_,[26] or _Spes mea, Christe, | Rex benedicte_.[27] Thus he
rimes even Sapphics. With much diffuseness and jingle he has sometimes
a lyric appeal that forecasts the more sentimental hymns of later
centuries, and is as far from the gravity of the elder habit.

Hymnody is typically communal and popular. Such poetic opportunities
inspired and authorized in the Carolingian period some verse more valid
as devotion than as poetry. Here and there manuscripts have preserved
local commemorations which make little pretense beyond grateful mnemonic.
But hymns of higher achievement show that the new Latin verse given by
the Church to the last days of the Empire was appreciated and carried
forward as poetry; and the rhythmical adaptations of measures not used
before evince an active, and often an expert, poetic.

3. NARRATIVE HEXAMETERS AND ELEGIACS

But the characteristic verse of the period is hexameter or elegiac. Thus
Theodulf composed even the familiar Palm Sunday hymn.

Gloria, laus et honor tibi sit, rex Christe redemptor,
Cui puerile decus prompsit osanna pium....

MGH _Poet. lat. Carol._ I. 558.

Alcuin devotes fifty-five hexameters to a _conflictus_ between spring and
winter, and celebrates York in over sixteen hundred.[28] The elegiacs may
seek Ovidian recurrences.[29]

_Præsul amate, precor_, huc tu diverte, viator:
Sis memor Albini ut, _præsul amate, precor_.
_O mea cara domus_, habitatio dulcis, amata,
Sis felix semper, _O mea cara domus_.

Alcuin, _ibid._ 250.

_Ordiar unde tuos_, sacer O Benedicte, triumphos?
Virtutum cumulos _ordiar unde tuos_?
_Euge beate pater_, meritum qui nomine prodis!
Fulgida lux secli, _euge beate pater_!

Paulus Diaconus, _ibid._ 36.

Of the many narrative poems employing these measures the commonest were
the _passiones_, or saints’ legends, usually with at least a rhythmic
bent, and by the tenth century habitually _rhythmi_ with internal rime.
The tenth-century _Vita et passio sancti Christophori_ of Walter of
Speier, though it abundantly exemplifies both the metrical training and
the study of Latin poets that he mentions in his introduction, shows also
the trend of the time.

More quidem reg_um_ gestabat sceptra Syror_um_
Fascibus indign_us_ publicis rex, nomine Dagn_us_,
Celans corda lup_i_ simulatis vultibus agn_i_,
Et dum plumat_am_ portarent colla coron_am_,
Texerat occult_e_ serpentem forma columb_æ_.
Iam quid plura quer_ar_? Tigribus rabidis fuit is p_ar_.

II. 1-6; Ermini, page 82, 240-245.[30]

Some, at least, of these longer poems were cumulative school exercises.
A promising theme in the imitative verse that was commonly part of
the study of the Latin poets would be commented by the _grammaticus_,
revised according to his criticism, and kept by him for later
rehandling or extension.[31] Thus the verse, even with the rhythmical
habit established, attended to Latin quantities. Thus also classical
reminiscences, especially Vergilian, are frequent; and Walter shows the
continued vogue of Prudentius. For the hexameters most typical of the
period are literary exercises.

C. _DIALECTICA_

Logic followed the Boethian tradition handed down by Isidore.[32] Alcuin,
though his manual is meager, repeats in his tract on the Trinity St.
Augustine’s view of the importance of this study[33] for the defense of
the faith. Rabanus makes it theoretically central.

_Dialectica_ is the training of the reason to investigate,
define, and express, and to be able to distinguish the true
from the false. This, then, is the training of trainings; it
teaches how to learn. This exhibits and unfolds the nature,
aim, and scope of reason itself. It knows; its aims and
virtue are both to know and to make knowers. _De clericorum
institutione_ III. xx; PL 107: 397 C.

But the turn of _dialectica_ to dominate the Trivium was not yet.

D. _RHETORICA_

Alcuin’s adaptation of the _De inventione_ of Cicero, Walafrid Strabo’s
enumeration of the five ancient parts of rhetoric, do not prove the
use of the whole ancient program. Even the ancient texts would not of
themselves carry on the ancient method. The “_quæstiones civiles_”
often quoted from Cicero’s opening definition could hardly carry their
ancient content either in a society disturbed by the invasions or
in a society reorganizing under feudalism. Moreover the teaching of
_rhetorica_, even when it kept touch with Roman method, was likely to
lean on the _declamatio_ handed down by the schools of Gaul.[34] For all
these reasons the ancient lore naturally most sought and most used was
_elocutio_, the counsels of style. The function of _rhetorica_ is usually
described by some such verb as _ornare_.

Little beyond this is suggested by the summary of Rabanus. Repeating once
more that the field of rhetoric is _quæstiones civiles_, he adds:

Nevertheless [rhetoric] is not outside the scope of training
for the Church. For whatever an orator or preacher of the
divine law sets out capably and fitly in teaching, whatever he
expresses aptly and elegantly in letters, conforms to this art.
_De clericorum institutione_ III. xix; PL 107: 396 C.

The passage is reminiscent of St. Augustine’s _De doctrina
christiana_;[35] and eight later chapters (xxix-xxxvi) follow this
closely, sometimes continuously and word for word. But Rabanus is at once
less specific and narrower as to style. As to composition in the large he
says hardly anything; and he seems to miss the cogency of Augustine’s own
order.

The larger and more vital conception of rhetoric, which was at least
before the eyes of Rabanus, seems more to beckon Loup de Ferrières. Man
of letters in his intellectual eagerness[36] as well as in his style, and
teacher as well, he makes requisitions on the libraries of his friends.
The Quintilian that he needs is not the volume of selections, but all
twelve books;[37] the Cicero, not only the common _De inventione_, but
also the book whose recovery by Poggio in the fifteenth century was one
of the literary events of the Renaissance, the _De oratore_.[38] If these
two cardinal works of the better ancient tradition were not much sought,
at least they were available.

The “three styles” seem already to have been transferred in school from
rhetoric to poetic, and exemplified from Vergil.[39] Mature practise was
already attentive to prose rhythm. Abbo of Fleury, much preoccupied with
this, was also fond of alliteration, and sometimes marked his balances
with rime.

Qua peracta pœnitentia, populos suæ dioceseos mandat, mandando
convocat, convocando suppliciter persuadet, ut triduano jejunio
a se divinæ indignationis iracundiam removeant, removendo
avertant, quatenus sacrificio spiritus contribulati placatus
Dominus illi suam gratiam concederet, qua corpus beati martyris
tangere et lavare auderet; qui licet tantis virtutibus floreret
in mundo, vili tamen et sibi incongruo continebatur mausoleo.
_Abbonis Floriacensis Passio Sancti Edmundi._[40]

Though the extremes of this passage go beyond Abbo’s normal practise,
they appear also in tenth-century ceremonious letters.[41]

E. THE POETIC OF GERMANIC EPIC

This is the period also of Germanic epic: the Anglo-Saxon _Beowulf_
(probably eighth century), _Waldere_, _Finnsburgh_, and _Maldon_, the
_Hildebrand_ (early ninth century) of the continental Germans, the
Scandinavian “Elder Edda.”[42] Though little connection is apparent
between these verse narratives and the Latin poetic with which they are
contemporary, there may have been some.[43] Anglo-Saxon epic is of the
time of Bede. The Walter legends are known largely through the Latin
hexameters of Ekkehard;[44] and other learned clerks found native epic
worth while not only as history, but as literature.

What has been preserved shows the primary epic appeal of legend not
exotic and imported, but handed down in folklore still orally active.
This is not at all to say that they are history as opposed to fiction.
Their historical value, however great, is accidental. Their facts,
already centuries old, have been shaped by tradition. Their Sigurd or
Hildebrand is seen through a magnifying mist. Epic is never, in our
modern sense, history. It is the glorification in song of a hero; and
primary epic has its own authentic appeal from singing a hero that still
belongs to the poet and to his hearers and still beckons their communal
dreams.

Thus Germanic epic, taking us farther back through legend into myth,
gives a more immediate sense of oral tradition. There is even an eery
likeness, as of the most ancient poetic repeating itself, between the
minstrel in the _Beowulf_ and the minstrel in the _Odyssey_.

But after they had put from them the desire of meat and drink,
the muse stirred the minstrel to sing the songs of famous
men, even that lay whereof the fame had then reached the wide
heaven, namely the quarrel between Odysseus and Achilles,
son of Peleus.... Then Odysseus of many counsels spake to
Demodocus, saying: “Demodocus, I praise thee far above all
mortal men, whether it be the Muse, the daughter of Zeus,
that taught thee, or even Apollo; for right duly dost thou
chant the faring of the Achæans, even all that they wrought
and suffered, and all their travail, as if, methinks, thou
hadst been present, or heard the tale from another. Come now,
change thy strain, and sing of the fashioning of the horse of
wood, ... even the guileful thing that goodly Odysseus led up
into the citadel, when he had it laden with the men who wasted
Ilios!”... So spake he, and the minstrel, being stirred by the
god, began and showed forth his minstrelsy. He took up the
tale where it tells how the Argives of the one part set fire to
their huts, and went aboard their decked ships and sailed away,
while those others, the fellowship of renowned Odysseus, were
now seated in the assembly-place of the Trojans, all hidden in
the horse, for the Trojans themselves had dragged him to the
citadel. _Odyssey_ viii. 72-75, 484-504 (Butcher and Lang’s
prose translation).

So Hrothgar’s minstrel is represented as singing songs of former heroes
to awaken joy in hall along the mead-bench. Among those thus inserted
in the _Beowulf_ is the lay of King Finn, which has come down also in
another form. As the Greek minstrel turns old songs to the praise of the
hero present before him, so the warriors celebrating in hall Beowulf’s
killing of Grendel turn the legend of Sigmund.

At times one of the king’s thanes, whose memory was full of
songs, laden with vaunting rhymes, who knew old tales without
number, invented a new story, closely bound up with fact. The
man deftly narrated the adventures of Beowulf, and cunningly
composed other skilful lays with interwoven words. _Beowulf_,
867-874 (Tinker’s prose translation).

In such passages we seem to be near the roots of verse narrative.

The verse narratives of the Germanic peoples during this period are
poetically homogeneous. _Hildebrand_, indeed, is more stinted than
_Beowulf_, and the north inclines more than the west toward lyric; but
they all have essentially the same poetic.[45] Their epic conception is
typically not of a progressive story, but of a situation. The hero is
imagined in a crisis. Sometimes abrupt or stinted, they nevertheless
prevail by unity. This mainspring of their poetic is their habitual
means toward tragic intensity.[46] Even more constant is their movement
in detail. The verse consists of two staves separated by a marked cæsura,
but corresponding by alliteration. The alliteration is not, as in Latin
verse, an added suggestion; it is constituent; it makes the verse.

Him ða Scyld ᵹewat to ᵹescæphwile
felahror feran on frean wære;
hi hyne þa ætbæron to brimes faroðe,
swæse ᵹesiþas, swa he selfa bæd,
þenden wordum weold wine Scyldinᵹa,
leof landfruma lanᵹe ahte.
þær æt hyðe stod hrinᵹedstefna
isiᵹ and utfus, æþelinᵹes fær:

_Beowulf_, 26-33 (Wülcker’s revised text).

No less essential is the two-stave movement, so strong in Germanic
habit that it may well have been influential in handling even Latin
hexameters with cæsura reinforced by rime.[47] In Anglo-Saxon the staves
show distinct recurrent types; and the verses generally tend, as above,
to “run on,” whereas the Old Norse are oftener composed in the fashion
of the “closed couplet.” But these differences are unimportant beside
the constant binary movement. The verses are not equal in number of
syllables; their stress rhythm is patterned in alliterated pairs.

Then departed Scyld at his appointed hour,
glorious to go unto God’s keeping.
Together they bore him to breaking surges,
bosom companions, as he bade himself
while he wielded words, warden of Scyldings,
loved land-ruler, long their master.
At the roadstead bode his ringèd bow,
icy, eager, atheling’s ship.
They laid him there, beloved chieftain,
bringer of booty, on the breast of the ship,
mighty by the mast. There were many treasures
from long voyages laden beside him.
Ne’er heard I that comelier keel provided
hacking weapons and harness warlike,
brands and byrnies. On his bosom lay
store unstinted that must start with him
on the flood’s realm to float outward.[48]

_Beowulf_, 26-42.

All primary epic is thus concrete. It speaks habitually in the immediate
terms of the five senses. But the habit of images crystallized among
the Germanic poets in a conventional epic diction. Their style is
deliberately removed from common speech. Its most obvious traits are
designation by descriptive compounds and accompaniment by descriptive
epithets. A lord is “land-ruler,” as above, or “prize-giver,” or
“hoard-ward.” His warrior is “hall-counselor,” “earl’s hope,”
“rugged-in-war.” The ominous raven is “sallow-brown, swarthy.” Ships
especially command a whole store of such phrases as those of the seventh
and eighth lines above. Germanic epic has a distinct poetic language.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Bede (c. 673-735), Wearmouth.

Alcuin (c. 735-804), York, Schools of the Palace, St. Martin’s at Tours.

Rabanus (c. 780-856), Fulda.

Loup (805-862), Fulda, Ferrières.

Remi (841-908), Auxerre, Reims.

Gerbert (c. 940-1003), Reims. See Julien Havet’s _Lettres de Gerbert
(983-997)_, with his valuable introduction, Paris, 1889. For a suggestive
summary of the greater schools and their teaching, with valuable
bibliographical notes, see Ermini, vi-xvi, 69-70.

[2] _Opera_, Basel, 1563 (whence PL), vol. II, page 343, end of the last
book (IV, περὶ διδάξεων) of _De elementis philosophiæ_.

Loup’s first letter to Einhard puts _rhetorica_ second (MGH, _Epist._
tom. VI, pars prior, page 8); and so does Rabanus, _De clericorum
institutione_, III. xviii (PL 107: 395 B).

[3] _Passio S. Christophori, carmen rhythmicum_, rec. C. Strecker, MGH,
Poet. lat. med. æv., vol. IV, Part II. 809.

The introduction is included among the selections printed in Ermini.

Walter’s reference to psalmody is at line 15; to _fabula_, at 55; to
_prælectio_, at 91; to _declamatio_, at 140. For all these, except the
first, see the indexes to ARP and to the present volume.

[4] See above, page 87. Alcuin’s verses on York (MGH, _Poet. lat. æv.
Carol._ I. 169) enumerate in the eighth-century library there: Donatus,
Eutyches, Phocas, Pompeius, Priscian, Probus, Victorinus, Servius.
The ninth-century library of St. Amand had Eutyches, Marius Plotius
[Sacerdos], Priscian, Servius, and Victorinus (Desilve, _De schola
Elnonensi Sancti Amandi_, Louvain, 1890, page 51).

[5] Clerval, _Les écoles de Chartres_, 22; and, for the eleventh century,
47, 48, 56, etc.

[6] _De doctrina christiana_, III. xxix.

[7] PL. 90: 175; Halm, 607.

[8] Grammatica est scientia interpretandi poetas atque historicos et
recte scribendi loquendique ratio. Hæc et origo et fundamentum est artium
liberalium. _De clericorum institutione_, III. xviii (PL, 107: 395 B).

[9] Above, section A, close.

[10] _De arte metrica_ (PL, 90: 156. 4; Keil, VII. 234).

[11] Above, page 110. The distinction seems to be made by Walafrid
Strabo, _Libellus de exordiis et incrementis rerum ecclesiasticarum_
(840-842), cap. 26, pp. 506-508 (MGH, _Capitularia regum francorum_, II,
Appendix); and by Hucbald (IXth century):

Astipulare meis, quia non sunt carmina, rhythmis ...
Quod si, ut puto, nequit carmen jam jure vocari,
Sit satis huic saltem censeri nomine rithmi.

Quoted by Desilve, _De schola Elnonensi Sancti Amandi_, p. 57.

[12] Keil, VII. 259. The passage in Diomedes is in Keil, I. 482.

[13] Iamb for spondee in the third foot, as in line 8, is a liberty
adopted from classical verse by Bede (_Adesto, Christe, vocibus_) and by
Paulus Diaconus (_Fratres, alacri pectore_). Even Sedulius Scotus, as to
whose metrical expertness there can be no doubt, uses this liberty in a
classical poem (_Ventosa cum desæviat_, MGH, _Poet. lat. Car._ III. 162).
Rendered rhythmically, their hymns often suggest the shift of stress that
seems to be intended in the Irish hymns.

[14] See above, page 119.

[15]

Nos dicamus Christo laudem genitoris unico,
Mundi legitur librorum qui creator paginis,
Cuius fine clemens venit liberare perditos....

Petrus Diaconus, MGH, _Poet. lat. Carol._ I. 48.

Sensi, cuius verba cepi exarata paginis,
Nam a magno sunt directa, quæ pusillus detulit;
Fortes me lacerti pulsant, non imbellis pueri....

Paulus Diaconus, _ibid._ 49.

The interesting application of the measure by Paulinus of Aquileia to
extended narrative, though generally keeping the final dactyl, pays
otherwise no more regard to quantity.

Fuit domini dilectus languens a Bethania
Lazarus beatus sacris olim cum sororibus,
Quas Iesus æternus amor diligebat plurimum,
Martha simul et Mariam felices per sæcula.

_Ibid._ 133.

These are all of the eighth century. Compare, in the ninth, Rabanus
(Claras laudes ac salubres, posco, fratres dicite, _ibid._ II. 235; AH
50: 203), and Sedulius Scotus (Conditor supernus orbis imperator omnium,
_ibid._ III. 159).

[16] The hymn has nine stanzas; but the latter part, beginning _Angularis
fundamentum_, is also sung separately.

[17] Interesting use of rime both as occasional echo and as regular
correspondence is heard in the hymn, from a tenth-century manuscript, _O
redemptor, sume carmen_, AH 51: 80.

[18] E.g., Sedulius Scotus. Blume suggests that the hymn above is by the
author of _Ecce iam noctis_, page 121.

Alcuin’s Sapphic _Christe salvator hominis ab ore_ (MGH, _Poet. lat.
Carol._ I. 313; AH 50: 154) is less scrupulous in quantities than might
be expected of him if he intended a _metrum_. It is entitled _Ymnus_.

[19] Chapter IV. C. 3. Compare, in the same volume of MGH, _Refulget
omnis luce mundus aurea_ (137); in volume III, _O tu qui servas armis
ista mœnia_ (703, late eighth century); in AH 51: 121, _Adnue, Christe,
sæculorum Domine_; and, in Duemmler’s _Rhythmorum eccl. ævi carolini
specimen_ (Berlin, 1881), _Audi me deus, peccatorem nimium_ (6), and
_Agnus et leo, mitis et terribilis_ (12). These instances taken together
seem to me to make against W. Meyer’s different reading (_Spanisches zur
Geschichte der ältesten mittellateinischen Rythmik_, 111) of the poem
below as a “rhythmic pentameter.”

[20] Ascribed erroneously to St. Ambrose (_De arte metrica_, Keil VII.
255). For the poem of Boethius, _Heu quam præcipiti mersa profundo_, see
above, Chapter IV. A.

[21] MGH, _Poet. lat. Carol._ III. 158. So _Vestri tecta nitent luce
serena_, III. 169, and others.

[22] _Cathemerinon_ v and in the preface to Book I _Contra Symmachum_.
The meter is – – – ⏑ ⏑ – – ⏑ ⏑ – ⏑ ⏑. Compare the first ode of Horace. So
Paulus Albarus in an acrostic poem on St. Eulogius, _Almi nunc revehit
festa polifera_ (MGH, _ibid._, III. 139). Boethius uses the measure
with a shorter alternate line (III, _metrum_ viii); and it is otherwise
varied, by a shorter line at the end of the stanza, in the eighth-century
hymn _Sanctorum meritis inclyta gaudia_ (Britt, 159), and in the
ninth-century hymn _Festum nunc celebre magnaque gaudia_ (MGH, _ibid._
II. 249). All these hymns are exceptionally correct in quantities; and
the measure, unusual in hymns, may well have been composed metrically.

[23] See Traube (in _Philolog. Untersuch. aus dem Mittelalter_, Munich
1891), who associates with it _O admirabile Veneris ydolum_.

Cf. Abelard’s _O quanta qualia sunt illa sabbata_. AH. 48: 163.

[24] The recollection that Poe wished thus to render the first ode of
Horace might well give pause, were it not that Poe, though doubtless
an ignoramus in Latin metric, was a poet and was interpreting Horace
rhythmically.

[25] Godescalc (822-870) is in MGH, _Poet. lat. Carol._ III. 724.

[26] AH 50: 220.

[27] _Ibid._ 221.

[28] _Ibid._ 270, 169.

[29] ARP 217.

[30] Riming hexameters appear generally, though not always, throughout
Ermini: in the Latin _Gesta Apollonii_ versifying the romance of
Apollonius of Tyre (113); in Uffing’s _Carmen de sancto Liudgero_ (131);
even in the accomplished Hrotsvitha.

[31] Ermini xvi, xviii, 43, 74, 110, 111. In the following century,
school exercise in prosopopœia is suggested by some of the verse of
Baudry de Bourgeuil (1046-1130); e.g., the Ovidian XLII, XLIII, CLIX,
CLX, pages 29, 39, 141, 145 in the edition of Phyllis Abrahams, Paris,
1926.

[32] Above, Chapter III. B.

[33] _Libellus de sancta Trinitate_, cited by Gaskoin, _Alcuin_, 127.

[34] Above, Chapter III. A.

[35] Book IV; see above, Chapter II.

[36] “Erinnert an die Tätigkeit der italienischen Humanisten.” _Manitius_
I. 486.

The letters of Loup are in MGH (_Epist._ VI, Pars Prior, ed. Duemmler,
1900). See also Levillain, _Étude sur les lettres de Loup de Ferrières_,
Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes 72 (1901): 445-509; 73 (1902):
69-118, 289-330, 537-586.

[37] _Epist._ 62, to Altsig about 849: “Quintiliani institutionum
oratoriarum libros xii.” Cf. _Epist._ 103, to Benedict III.

[38] _Epist._ 1, to Einhard: “Tullii de rhetorica liber ... eiusdem
auctoris de rhetorica tres libri in disputatione ac dialogo de oratore.”
The latter is unmistakable. It is sufficient evidence even if the
“Tullium de oratore” of _Epist._ 103 be regarded as uncertain.

[39] The misapplication, very common later (see the index), seems to be
intended by Walter of Speier.

Præterea triplicis succincta veste coloris
Omnibus excellens docuit nos musa Maronis.

_Vita et Passio Sancti Christophori_ I. 104.

For the “three styles” see ARP 56, 57-59, 228; and above, 56, 67.

[40] In _Memorials of St. Edmund’s Abbey_, ed. T. Arnold (Rolls Series,
96), I. 22. See the references to Abbo in G. H. Gerould’s _Abbot Ælfric’s
rhythmic prose_, Modern Philology 22 (May, 1925): 352-366; and, for the
prose of Loup de Ferrières, W. Meyer, _De clausula in Lupi epistolis
rhythmica_, Gött. gelehrt. Anzeig., 1893, page 22.

[41] E.g., Summæ sanctitatis, scientiæ, pietatis et ordinis culmine
sublimato domino.... Nunc ergo puerum istum, viscera mea, filium
consobrinæ meæ, solam et maximam curam meam, commendo quibus estis
plenissimi visceribus misericordiæ vestræ, ut vestram vitam et vos
‘primis miretur ab annis,’ mansuetudinem vigore decoratam, doctrinam
operibus commendatam, austeritatem dulcedine temperatam, taciturnitatem
modestam, locutionem utilem vel necessariam, victus et somni parcitatem,
mediocritatem vestitus, ieiuniorum et orationum per dies et noctes
instantiam, largitionem elemosinarum, susceptionem hospitum, solamen
lugentium, peregrinis et egentibus, plebibus et clero, monachis et
virginibus, viduis et orphanis, comitibus et regibus, servis et liberis,
coniugibus et continentibus, mediocribus et maximis, Iudæis et gentilibus
vos unum omnia perdiscat effectum. Quod si aliquid apud vos, ubi omnes
proficiunt, doctrinæ morumque profectus, Deo largiente, ceperit,
debitorem vobis de eo Christum facitis, qui eum talem educaveritis, ut
non solum sibi, sed et aliis possit utilitati fieri. MGH, Legum sectio v,
formulæ, 409 (Collectio Sangallensis Salomonis III tempore).

For prose rhythm in medieval letters see below, Chapter VIII. C.

[42] The poetic of Irish epic during this period is more difficult to
determine. From the existing forms, which are later, we may divine
that its conceptions were at once mythical and romantic, and that its
incidental verse—its main course was in prose—had already an elaborate
technic.

The generally typical epic traits are suggestively presented by W. P.
Ker, _Epic and Romance_, London, 1897; the specifically Anglo-Saxon ones,
by R. W. Chambers, _Beowulf_, Cambridge, 1921. Both give extracts and
references.

[43] Chambers, reviewing the parallels with classical epic explored by
Klaeber, finds “no tangible or conclusive proof of borrowing. But the
influence may have been none the less effective for being indirect” (330).

[44] Ekkehard I of St. Gall, _Waltharius_, MGH, _Script._ II. 117. For
other editions, translations, and studies see Ermini, who reprints
considerable selections.

[45] “For purposes of poetry there was only one nation—the Germanic—split
into many dialects and groups, but possessed of a common metre, a common
style, a common standard of heroic feeling.” Chambers, 99.

[46] For the tragic tendency see Ker, 86.

[47] See above, page 140.

[48] The beginning of the passage is quoted above in the original. The
object of this rendering is to follow exactly, verse by verse, the
original rhythm. Though such imitation must sooner or later break down,
for short stretches it indicates specifically the salient verse habits.

CHAPTER VI

RHETORIC AND LOGIC IN THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES

REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS

ARP Baldwin (C. S.), _Ancient rhetoric and poetic_, New
York, 1924.

Clerval Clerval (l’Abbé A.), _Les écoles de Chartres au moyen âge,
du Ve au XVIe siècle_, Chartres, 1895 (Mémoires de la
Société Archéologique d’Eure-et-Loir, XI).

Haskins Haskins (C. H.), _The renaissance of the twelfth century_,
Harvard University Press, 1927.

Manacorda Manacorda (G.), _Storia della scuola in Italia_, vol. I,
_Il medio evo_, Milan, 1913 (2 parts in separate volumes).

Mignon Mignon (l’Abbé A.), _Les origines de la scolastique et
Hugues de Saint-Victor_, Paris, 1895, 2 vols.

PL _Patrologia latina_, Migne (cited by volume and column).

Poole Poole (Reginald Lane), _Illustrations of the history of
medieval thought_, London, 2d ed., 1920. See also his
important biography of John of Salisbury in Dict. Nat.
Biog., his article in Eng. Histor. Rev., July, 1923, and
his communication, March 27, 1924, to the British Academy
(Proceedings, xl) on the early correspondence.

A. THE TRIVIUM AT CHARTRES, ELEVENTH AND TWELFTH CENTURIES

At the fall of Rome the Trivium was dominated by _rhetorica_; in
the Carolingian period, by _grammatica_; in the high middle age,
by _dialectica_. The shift of emphasis to logic probably began in
the eleventh century. Even Chartres, renowned for its teaching of
_grammatica_, shows hints of this under Fulbert.[1] In the next century
the theory of logic was fortified by commanding in Latin translation
those parts of Aristotle’s _Organon_ which had not been available; and
its practise became more urgent through the historic debates as to
universals. By offering thus the most active training in composition,
logic confirmed the restriction of rhetoric to style. John of Salisbury,
after giving full scope to _grammatica_, focuses his great book on
_dialectica_. _Rhetorica_ he merely mentions; it claims none of his
thought. Nor does any other leader of the high middle age treat rhetoric
as active in the intellectual processes of composing. Rhetoric has no
educational vitality. The vital study that taxes and develops men’s minds
is logic.

In detail, _grammatica_ at Chartres[2] during the great century of the
school (about 1050-1150), shows a full development of _prælectio_ and
distinct cultivation of rhythmic.[3] _Rhetorica_, except in _dictamen_
and in some application of the larger ancient precepts of composition
to preaching, is at a standstill.[4] The more significance therefore
attaches to a short poem of Fulbert summing up the differences between
rhetoric and logic: the one concrete, current, reasoning in enthymemes,
aiming at persuasion; the other abstract, syllogistic, aiming at
conviction.[5] This giving of the full ancient scope to rhetoric in
theory may be a reminder, may be even a protest. At any rate the practise
had no such scope. The Chartres manuscript[6] containing these verses is
an eleventh-century collection of traditional materials for the study
of logic. The study was advanced by Gilbert de la Porrée.[7] Thierry’s
collection[8] of the traditional writers on the seven arts, _Bibliotheca
septem artium_, or _Heptateuchon_, gives 190 leaves to _grammatica_,[9]
88 to _rhetorica_,[10] 154 to _dialectica_.[11] The remaining 160 leaves
of the two large volumes are devoted to the Quadrivium. Thierry’s
prologue,[12] summarizing the functions of the several arts _viâ_
Martianus Capella, distributes those of the Trivium as follows: through
_grammatica_, elegance; through _dialectica_, logical coherence; through
_rhetorica_, ornament. Oral composition, as distinct from revision for
style, seems to have no pedagogy except through logic.

B. THE TRIVIUM IN HUGH OF ST. VICTOR

Hugh of St. Victor’s[13] _Lore of teaching_ (_Eruditio didascalica_, or
_Didascalicon_) is neither a compend nor a program; it is a concise
philosophical survey of education. Though his primary concern is with
what is to be studied, and to what ends, he sometimes gives also acute
hints of method. Book I (_De studio legendi_), a preliminary survey of
typical directions of study, ends (xii) with _logica_, Hugh’s general
term for the Trivium as a group, i.e., for all language studies.
Considering language as expression (_logica sermocinalis_), these are
indeed the usual three; but considering language as thought (_logica
rationalis_), they are only two, _dialectica_ and _rhetorica_. Book II
(_De discretione artium_) expands the exposition to determine the places
of all seven arts in a scheme of philosophy. First the Quadrivium,
then the manual arts, are classified under the traditional threefold
division:[14] theory (1) of thought, (2) of morals, or conduct, (3)
of technical skill. Outside this division remains the Trivium, Hugh’s
_logica_, as a fourth and final group. Though _logica_ may be divided
simply, as in Book I, Hugh now offers a more philosophical division by
function in composing. By the latter we have (a) _grammatica_ by itself
as having no such function, and (b) _rhetorica_ and _dialectica_ together
as both involving investigation (_inventio_) and the processes of
arrangement, and revision (_iudicium_). These two composition studies are
thus seen to belong, as probable proof (_probabilis_), between absolute,
or abstract proof (_demonstratio_) and plausible, or illegitimate proof
(_sophistica_).

PHILOSOPHIA

_theorica_ { theologia (the Boethian intellectibilis) { arithmetica
(_speculativa_){ mathematica ( ” ” intelligibilis) { musica
{ physica ( ” ” naturalis) { geometria
{ astronomia

_practica_ (_activa_, _ethica_)

_mechanica_: the seven manual arts, e.g., lanificium, agricultura

{ dialectica
{ rationalis { rhetorica
_logica_ {
I { { grammatica (scientia loquendi sine vitio)
{ sermocinalis { dialectica (disputatio acuta, verum a falso
{ distinguens)
{ rhetorica (disciplina ad persuadendum quæque
{ idonea)

{ grammatica
_logica_ { { demonstratio
II { ratio disserendi { probabilis (involving { dialectica
{ inventio and iudicium) { rhetorica
{ sophistica

From these classifications Hugh proceeds in Book III to practical
considerations: of studies as training (_disciplina_), of the
interrelations of the seven arts, of a scheme of reading (_ordo
legendi_), of meditation, etc. The three remaining books deal with sacred
studies.

Hugh’s term _logica_ expresses a conception of the Trivium as an
integrated group. Less obvious, but hardly less significant, is the
importance given implicitly to logic (_dialectica_). Though rhetoric is
recognized as having theoretically a function in composing, it receives
otherwise but little more attention than in the cardinal treatise of
medieval pedagogy, the _Metalogicus_.

C. THE _METALOGICUS_ OF JOHN OF SALISBURY

The most extensive reasoned medieval survey of the Trivium is the
_Metalogicus_[15] of John of Salisbury. Though this devotes most space to
logic and to the logical aspects of other language study, it is a unified
and carefully coherent presentation of all teaching that deals with
words. Statesman as well as scholar, more widely known, perhaps, than any
other man of his time, and more widely conversant with its movements in
church and state, secretary to two archbishops of Canterbury, rounding
out his life as Bishop of Chartres, he devoted his best thought to the
_Metalogicus_. The classification underlying its first two books is that
of Hugh of St. Victor.[16]

{ scientia recte loquendi scribendique
{ grammatica {
{ { poetica
logica {
{ { demonstrativa
{ { { dialectica
{ ratio disserendi { probabilis {
{ { rhetorica
{ sophistica

By the conception of the Trivium as twofold, _rhetorica_ is theoretically
subordinated; and in John’s working out of the scheme it is ignored.
Barely mentioned,[17] it appears to have no distinctive composing
function. Part of its ancient function seems to be implied now and then
under _grammatica_; more is certainly transferred to _dialectica_, with
which John connects most of what he discerns of composition as a study.
His scheme can be comprehended only as a whole and in sequence. The
survey of _logica_ in Books I and II is not primarily an analysis. Rather
it develops the functions of language studies in progressive stages. This
procedure, too, as well as some of its important details, may have been
suggested by Quintilian.[18] John is concerned less with division than
with order. His own order is so significant and so carefully marked[19]
that it should be followed step by step.

DIGEST OF _METALOGICUS_

BOOK I. _GRAMMATICA_

i-vi. The opening takes occasion from certain opponents of the
Trivium.[20] “When _logica_ was derided, and its envious opponent
provoked me, in spite of my indignation and protests, by almost daily
disputes, at length I accepted trial, and have studied to reply to his
calumnies” (824 A) ... “Since I have undertaken the defense of _logica_,
the book is entitled Metalogicon.”

vii-ix. Eloquence is natural, not in the perverted sense that the full
exercise of speech is instinctive, but only to the extent that speech is
the peculiar opportunity of mankind.

x (837 B). “_Logica_, then, to show the widest meaning of the word, is
the theory of speaking or of discoursing. Sometimes it is contracted to
the extent of limiting the force of the word to theories of discourse.
Whether, therefore, it teaches the ways of reasoning or offers a rule
for all speech, they are evidently unwise who call it useless; for
either [the narrower or the wider scope] is taught by most famous theory
as necessary. The twofold meaning of the word comes from its origin in
Greek; for there λόγος means now speech (sermo), now theory (ratio).
But that its meaning may be extended most widely, let us assign to it
at present the control of all speech, so that nowhere it may be proved
useless, and so that in its more general sense it may appear as a whole
very useful and necessary.”

xi. The idea of any art is to further nature by theory.

xii (839 C). “But since _artes_ are of many kinds, the first of all for
a mind bent on wisdom are the _artes liberales_. All these are included
in the theory either of the Trivium or of the Quadrivium; and so great
efficacy they are said to have achieved among the ancients, who taught
them assiduously, that they opened all reading, roused the mind to
everything, and sufficed to resolve the difficulties of all questions
which can be settled. They to whom the theory of the Trivium expounded
the secrets of all speech, the law of the Quadrivium the secrets of
all nature, needed no teachers to explain their books or resolve their
questions.”

xiii (840 A). “Of all these the first is _logica_, in that part of it
which deals with the first teaching of speech.... This is _grammatica_,
the lore of speaking and writing correctly, the origin of all liberal
disciplines ... the cradle of all philosophy ... the first nurse of all
literary study.”

xiv-xvi. _Grammatica_ imitates nature by keeping congruity of
thought.[21] For instance, it does not tolerate adjectives of secondary
application with nouns of primary application.

xvii (847 A). “In other things, too, _grammatica_ imitates nature; for
the precepts of _poetica_ set forth the habits of nature and exact of
the craftsman in this art that he follow nature—to that degree, indeed,
that the poet shall not depart from the footprints of nature, but apply
himself to stick to them in manner, gesture, even word. Moreover the
theory is to be kept not only in feet or tenses, but in ages, places,
seasons,[22] and other details beyond our present purpose; for all these
come from the workshop of nature. Indeed, _poetica_ stays so close to the
things of nature that many have refused to include it in _grammatica_,
asserting that it is an art in itself, pertaining no more to _grammatica_
than to _rhetorica_,[23] though so far related to both as to have
precepts in common. Let them snarl about this who will. I will not keep
up the dispute; but under favor of them all I think that _poetica_ is to
be assigned to _grammatica_ as to the mother and nurse of its study....
Either _grammatica_ will hold on to _poetica_, or _poetica_ will be
turned out from the number of the liberal disciplines.”

xviii-xx. _Grammatica_ deals both with precision and with imagery, both
with denotation and with connotation. It includes letters, syllables,
phrase, sentence-form, punctuation, figures, metric—everything that can
be taught verbally.

xxi-xxiii. It has occupied persons no less eminent than Cæsar and Cicero.
It is a practical guide to utterance and to learning. The objection
derived from Seneca is insufficient. For the practise of philosophy and
of virtue the important approaches are reading, teaching, meditation. Of
these the root and foundation is _grammatica_.

xxiv. Actually the _prælectio_ is vindicated by such a _grammaticus_ as
Bernard of Chartres.[24]

(853 C) “He, then, who aspires to philosophy, let him lay hold of
reading, teaching, and meditation, with the practise of good works, lest
God be angry and what he seemeth to have be taken from him. But since
_lectio_ is equivocal, applicable both to the practise of teacher and
learner and to the absorption of one studying writings for himself,
let the one, the interchange of teacher and learner, be called, to use
Quintilian’s word, _prælectio_, the other, applied to the scrutiny of
meditation, simply _lectio_. On the authority, then, of Quintilian,
the _grammaticus_ in his _prælectio_ ought to attend to such details
as to ask to have the verse analyzed into the parts of speech and the
appropriate feet, which ought to be known in poems. He should take
exception to barbarisms, improprieties, or other transgressions of the
law of speaking—not, however, that he should find fault with poets for
metrical necessities which, though faults in prose, are called virtues
in verse, since force of necessity commonly wins the praise of virtue for
what cannot be denied without sacrifice. Metaplasm, sentence variation,
figures of speech and such various iterations as may be present, the
theory underlying this way of speaking or that—all these the _prælectio_
should point out and impress upon the hearer’s memory by frequent
warnings.

(854 A) “The _prælectio_ should make authors yield, without holding them
up to ridicule, the feathers with which, crow-fashion, they have decked
their works from various disciplines, to make the style more becoming.
The more disciplines the teacher is imbued with, and the more abundantly,
the more fully he will discern the elegance of authors, the more clearly
he will bring it out in teaching. For they by the _diacrisis_ which we
may call illustration[25] or visualization, when they had undertaken in
bare outline story, plot, fable, or whatever else it might be, would
develop it with such abundance of disciplines and such charm of sentence
and style that the work when completed seemed the image of all the arts.

(854 B) “_Grammatica_ and _poetica_, indeed, are entirely fused and
control the whole surface of what is expounded. _Campologica_, as it is
called, contributing descriptive amplification of proof,[26] looses its
theory in a blaze of gold; and _rhetorica_ with store of persuasions and
brilliance of style rivals the brightness of silver. Mathematics is borne
on the wheels of its Quadrivium and, hard on the heels of the others, has
woven its own figures and charms in manifold variety. Science, having
searched the counsels of nature, brings from its own storehouse manifold
charm of figures. Moreover that which rises above the other parts of
philosophy—I mean ethics—without which not even the name of philosopher
abides, surpasses all the others in the gift of ornament that it brings.
Sound Vergil or Lucan, and there, whatever philosophy you profess, you
will find its making. In proportion, therefore, to the capacity of the
pupil, or to the industry and diligence of the teacher, the fruit of the
_prælectio auctorum_ is constant.

(854 C) “This used to be the habit of Bernard of Chartres, in our modern
times the most overflowing spring of literature in Gaul. In his reading
he would show first what was simple and regular. Grammatical forms,
rhetorical figures, quibbles of sophistry, relations of the passage to
other disciplines, he used to bring out clearly—not, however, by teaching
everything at every point, but by adjusting to the capacity of his pupils
and to the time of the instruction. Since appeal of discourse is either
in precision, that is in the nice adjustment of adjective or verb to
noun, or in imagery, that is in passing by comparison from one sense to
another, he used to inculcate these in the minds of his hearers whenever
he found occasion. Since memory is strengthened and talent is sharpened
by practise, he would spur some by exhortation, others by punishments,
to imitate what they had heard. Each of them was required to account on
the following day for what he had heard on the preceding, some more, some
less. For with them the preceding day always taught the following.[27]

(855 A) “The evening exercise, which was called _declinatio_,[28] carried
such abundance of grammar that any one keeping at it for a whole year,
provided he were not too stupid, would control the principles of speaking
and writing and could not remain ignorant of the meaning of expressions
in common use. But since no school, nor any day, should be without
religion, such a subject was proposed as would upbuild faith and morals
and animate the group, as by common discussion, toward good. The final
item, moreover, of this _declinatio_, or rather of this philosophical
discussion, exhibited the footsteps of pious remembrance. The souls of
the departed, by devout offering of the sixth penitential psalm [_De
profundis_] and the Lord’s Prayer, were commended to their Redeemer.

(855 B) “For those whose assignments were elementary exercises in
imitating prose or poetry he set poets or orators and prescribed close
imitation after showing the art of connection and of sentence close.[29]
If a boy had brightened his work by sewing on a piece from some one else,
he would show that the theft was detected, but very often would inflict
no punishment. But if the borrowing was misplaced, with modest kindliness
he bade the boy come down to express his author’s likeness; and his own
practise was such that in imitating his predecessors he became a model
for his successors. He also taught among the elements and fixed in mind
the force of composition,[30] the achievement of thought and of phrase,
the character of the style, whether thinness or plausible abundance,
extravagance or just measure.

(855 C) “Stories and poems, he used to say, were to be read carefully,
not on the run; and of each pupil he required as a daily task something
memorized with careful attention. But superfluous reading, he would
add, should be shunned, famous authors are enough. To follow what every
one, however unimportant, has ever said is to regard oneself either
too meanly or too boastfully. It holds back and obstructs minds which
would otherwise make better use of their leisure; and what displaces
something better is so far unavailing that it cannot even be called
good. To explore all papers and ponder all writings, even those not
worth reading, is no more to the purpose than to attend to old wives’
tales. For, as Augustine says in his _De ordine_: ‘Who shall call that
man uncultured who has not heard of the flight of Dædalus, or a liar
for asserting it, or impudent for questioning it? I always feel deep
pity for those of our friends who are accused of ignorance if they have
not answered what was the name of the mother of Euryalus, and who dare
not call the people who ask such questions shallow, impertinent, and
curious.’ So says Augustine both neatly and truly. Therefore it was
rightly reckoned by the ancients among the virtues of a _grammaticus_
that there should be some things which he did not know.

(856 A) “Since in all the preliminary exercises nothing is more useful
than to accustom oneself to what ought to be done expertly, Bernard’s
students would daily write prose and verse and practise themselves
by exchange of criticism. Nothing is more useful than this exercise
for expression, nothing more promotive of learning; and its greatest
contribution is to the conduct of life, provided this insistence be
controlled by charity, and progress in literature contribute to humility.”

The last chapter (xxv) quotes at length the _laus grammaticæ_ of
Quintilian I. iv. 5-6.[31]

BOOK II. _DEMONSTRATIVA_ AND _DIALECTICA_

_Proem._ “The course of the former book has sufficiently, I think,
disengaged the truth that _grammatica_ is not useless, and that without
it not only eloquence falls short, but the way toward the other
expressions of philosophy is not open.”

i. _Logica_, being the theory of discourse, embraces both investigation
and judgment.[32]

ii. Knowledge of truth being for them the highest good, the Peripatetics
divided philosophy into two parts: natural, or physical, and moral, or
ethical.[33] But the difficulties arising from insufficient control of
discourse “demonstrated the need of determining and publishing a lore
which should distinguish words and concepts[34] and dissipate the mists
of fallacies. Here, indeed, as Boethius asserts in his second commentary
on Porphyry, is the origin of the _logica disciplina_. For there had to
be a lore which should distinguish the true from the false and teach
which reasoning holds the path of [absolute] truth, which of probable,
which of assumed,[35] and which should be distrusted. Otherwise truth
cannot be found by reasoning (858 C).... The rules of the art were seized
and handed down finally by Aristotle.”

iii. (859 C) “Later in time than the other disciplines of philosophy,
this is first in place. For beginners in philosophy it is a prerequisite,
as the interpreter of words and concepts, without which no item of
philosophy comes precisely to light. He who thinks that philosophy is
taught without _logica_, i.e., by [direct] cultivation of wisdom, may
as well do away with theory in everything, since this is the domain of
_logica_.... The very name comes from its being an aid and a test of
theory. Plato divided it into _dialectica_ and _rhetorica_; but those
who estimate its efficacy higher give it more, i.e., _demonstrativa_,
_probabilis_, _sophistica_. _Demonstrativa_ begins in the first stages of
training, and passes on into the next. It is satisfied only by necessity;
provided a thing ought to be so, it pays little attention to whether
or not it appears to be so. This becomes the philosophical majesty of
those who are teaching precisely, a majesty grounded, quite apart from
the assent of an audience, on its own will. _Probabilis_, on the other
hand, is occupied with what appears to be so to all, or to many, or to
intelligent observers, with what is best known and most probable to
them, or with what follows therefrom. This includes _dialectica_ and
_rhetorica_, since logician and orator alike striving to persuade, the
one an opponent, the other a judge, think the [abstract] truth of their
arguments makes little difference, provided they keep what seems to be
true. But _sophistica_, which is apparent and not serviceable wisdom,
assumes the likeness either of probability or of necessity, little caring
what this or that may be, while it involves whatever is discussed in
fanciful images and deceptive shadows. _Dialectica_, that member of the
Trivium which all approach from this side and from that, but few, in
my judgment, really pursue, neither aspires to dogma, nor is drowned
in the waves of politics, but analyzes truth by prompt and reasonable
probability.”

iv. _Dialectica_, moreover, is the art of effective debate.

v-viii. _Logica_ has for its distinctive function to serve as effective
instrument. It is not an end in itself. So perverted, it becomes the
absurd and deplorable occupation of senility.

ix-xi. (866 C) “_Dialectica_, which among the servants of eloquence is
most alert and prompt, avails each man according to the measure of his
knowledge.... Deprived of the strength of the other disciplines, it is
maimed and almost useless; thriving with their vigor, it is strong to
overthrow all falsehood, and always suffices at least to reach a probable
conclusion.” From my own teachers, to whom I returned years after
they had schooled me, I conclude that “as _dialectica_ advances other
disciplines, so if it remain alone, it lies bloodless and sterile, and
does not engender the fruit of philosophy in a soul not impregnated from
other sources.” Of itself it can only despatch issues, not rise to others.

xii. _Dialectica_ operates in all disciplines wherever the issue is
abstract.[36] It leaves to _rhetorica_ whatever is hypothesis, i.e.,
whatever involves concrete circumstances: who, what, when, why, how. It
makes no address to the public, expects no legal decision.

xiii-xv. Though each division of philosophy has its own field of inquiry
and its own principles, yet _logica_ supplies methods common to all, as
it were theory in a nutshell. A problem in _dialectica_ considers choice
and avoidance, truth and knowledge, whether for itself or as aiding
inquiry where opinion divides.

xvi-xvii. Review of the value and place of Aristotle, of the right use of
Porphyry’s Introduction, and of other typical cases in teaching. Bernard
(875 D) of Chartres and his followers took great pains to heal the breach
between Plato and Aristotle; “but in my opinion they came late and
labored in vain to reconcile in death those who differed as long as they
lived.”

xviii-xix. Certain errors of those who profess Aristotle can hardly be
overlooked: the burdening of tender shoulders, the making of Porphyry
cover the whole ground, the misinterpretation that simplifies Aristotle
by substituting Plato or something remote from both.

xx. The last chapter, much the longest, presents Aristotle on genus and
species.

BOOK III. _TOPICA_

i-iv. A survey of the teaching of categoriæ, prædicamenta, and
interpretatio as preliminary begins with general advice (890 D). “The
exposition of every book should be such as to furnish most readily the
knowledge of what is written. No occasion should be sought of introducing
difficulty; everywhere the way should be opened. That was the practise,
I remember, of Abelard ... (891 A). Thus Porphyry should be read so that
the significance of the expressions in question may be retained and
the sense of the words got from the surface. He will be sufficiently
introductory so, and conspicuous for being quickly intelligible ... (891
D). For the text is to be searched mannerly, not bitterly racked, as
if it were a prisoner, until it gives up what it has not taken.” This
preliminary closes with a reminiscence (900 C). “Bernard of Chartres
used to say that we, like dwarfs on the shoulders of giants, can see more
and farther not because we are keener and taller, but because of the
greatness by which we are carried and exalted.”

v-x. Forecasting the rest of the program, John wonders why Aristotle’s
_Topica_ should have been so long neglected (903 A). “Single words of
it, in both rules and examples, are valuable not only for _dialectica_,
but for almost all the disciplines. It comprises eight books, each more
potent than the last.” The following digest, book by book, iterates (910
C) the general value. “The precepts of all eloquence seem to be derived
originally from it as from the primary source. For it is indubitably
true, as Cicero and Quintilian say, that rhetors and rhetoricians have
found in it not only an aid, but a source.”

BOOK IV. _ANALYTICA_

In contrast to the ten long chapters of III, IV is divided into forty-two
short ones: i-v, _analytica_ in general; vi-viii, _demonstrativa_;
ix-xx, the progress of knowledge: sensus, imaginatio, prudentia, ratio,
intellectus; xxi-xxiii, _hypothetica_, _sophistica_; xxiv-xlii, critical
review: objectors to Aristotle the place of _logica_ in teaching, typical
conceptions of ratio, and of truth and error, the relation of ratio to
veritas.

This last book iterates the importance of correlation (xxviii. 982 B).
“But though _logica_ is useful generally, he who is ignorant of other
arts[37] is not so much helped by it toward philosophy as he is hindered
by a habit of verbosity and presumption. For _logica_ is almost useless
if it be alone. It stands out when it shines by the power of correlated
studies.”

John’s slighting of rhetoric cannot be explained merely by his
preoccupation with logic. Why was he thus preoccupied in a consistent
and progressive scheme of the whole Trivium? He begins with a _logica_
embracing all studies of words; he devotes a whole book to _grammatica_;
in his last pages he is speaking of an _organon_ that shall be a minister
to _eloquentia_. Yet _rhetorica_ he merely mentions when he must. That he
was aware of its ancient importance in such a scheme as his is evident
from his large use of Quintilian’s _Teaching of Rhetoric_. No other
medieval writer gave this work more attention. The much-quoted chapter
(I. xxiv) on _prælectio_ uses not only Quintilian’s ideas, but his
very words;[38] and other correspondences are no less significant. The
following list, though not complete, is typical.

QUINTILIAN, _INST. ORAT._ _METALOGICUS_

I. iii. 3-5 II. viii. 865 B-C

Illud ingeniorum ... decrescit. Hoc est quod ... decrescit.

I. viii. 13-14 I. xxiv. 853 D-854 A

In prælegendo grammaticus ... In prælegendo grammaticus ...
memoriam agitet. memoriam auditorum.

17-21 855 B-D

Præcipue vero illa ... Id quoque inter prima ...
aliqua nescire. aliqua ignorare [with substitution
of Augustine for Didymus, who is
relegated to 864 C].

The correspondences above, verbatim for considerable stretches, involve
here and there transpositions or other variations. The following are
quotations or adaptations.

I. iv. 5-6 I. xxv. 856 D

Quo minus sunt ferendi ... in libro _De institutione oratoris
quam ostentationis. Ne quis ..._ Ait ergo: “Ne quis
igitur ... scientiam possit. [and the two sentences are
quoted in reverse order].”

II. iii. 3 II. vii. 864 D

Propter quod Timotheum ... Refert Quintilianus [quotation
with slight verbal variation].

II. iv. 5-7 IV. xxviii. 932 B

Nec unquam ... quod exculpi. Teneræ tamen ætati ...
improbitas conquiescat
[correspondence evident in
idea, occasionally in word].

X. i. 83 II. ii. 859 A

Quid Aristotelem?... quid de eo dicat Quintilianus:
clariorem putem. “Quid Aristotelem?... [exact
quotation].”

X. i. 125-131 I. xxii. 852 B

Ex industria Senecam ... [Discusses Quintilian’s view (“ut
quod voluit efficit. pace Quintiliani loquar”) with
occasional reminiscence of his
words.]

Even if these correspondences were confined to Quintilian’s first and
second books, there would still be no sufficient ground for the inference
that John, consulting him primarily for _grammatica_ and further for his
general ideas on education, did not think of him as a rhetorician. For
Quintilian not only presents rhetoric from the beginning; he frequently
in these first books cites and quotes Aristotle as a rhetorician. But the
matter seems to be put beyond doubt by the use of Book X. It is only fair
to assume of so careful a scholar reading the first books and one of the
last, and occupied with Quintilian’s idea of educational sequence, that
he read the whole work.[39]

Having read and admired one of the chief ancient works on rhetoric, why
did he leave rhetoric out of his own scheme? The answer is probably in
the contemporary conditions to which the _Metalogicus_ is adjusted,
and especially in the contemporary state of rhetoric. It seems not to
have been in the twelfth century worth more than mention from a John of
Salisbury seeking a vital sequence of studies. It lacked what he sought
above all, vital relations. If he had known Aristotle’s _Rhetoric_, he
might conceivably have sought to recall the ancient study to its better
ancient aim. What he found vital in Quintilian’s rhetoric he transferred
to _grammatica_ or to _dialectica_, partly, no doubt, because the
transfer was actually going on, partly, one may think, because he saw in
these other studies the real opportunities of his time for composition.
The current lore of ornament which passed for rhetoric could hardly
detain his consideration.

What he discerns in _grammatica_, and had found in the teaching of
Bernard, is of course training in precision. But though he makes much
of this, he does not slight the value of concreteness for presentation;
he sees the importance of studying style by imitation; and he adopts
from Quintilian a word not common in medieval treatises, _œconomia_. All
these point to composition; and composition seems to have been one of the
essential applications of the master’s analysis. The _prælectio_ as John
describes it is tinged with Quintilian because it realizes fully the
ancient function of _grammatica_ with the poets.

In the rapidly expanding teaching of _dialectica_ also he sees
opportunity for composition. To this end, very likely, he urges
repeatedly that the debates of the schools keep touch with reality by
insisting on subject matter through correlation with other studies.
Above all he desires that language studies be unified and progressive,
that they call for expanding correlation of _inventio_ and _iudicium_.
The study that in his time actually demanded and exercised these was not
_rhetorica_, which was by way of ignoring both; it was _dialectica_.

D. THIRTEENTH CENTURY SURVEYS

1. The _Anticlaudianus_ of Alain de Lille

The allegorical survey entitled by Alain[40] _Anticlaudianus_ has but
superficial likeness to the _De nuptiis philologiæ et Mercurii_[41] of
Martianus Capella. Each presents the seven liberal arts in allegory; each
is in nine books; but there is no real resemblance, nor any indication of
Alain’s having used Martianus except as a stock source. The allegory of
Martianus is confined to his first two books, and is purely decorative;
the allegory of Alain pervades his whole work as a controlling idea. That
idea is the function of education in the redemption of mankind. The
sub-title “de officio viri boni et perfecti” is akin to Hugh’s[42] “animæ
perfectio.” The consistent, elaborate theological symbolism shows some
force of conception and, in spite of occasional excursions into style,
some ardor and elevation. The four thousand hexameters are usually above
the medieval fatal fluency in this verse. The survey, though it has not
Hugh’s originality and does not attempt John’s unification, is equally
serious.

The seven arts are summoned to provide _Prudentia_ with a
chariot for her quest on behalf of man. _Grammatica_ supplies
the pole; _Logica_, the axle, which _Rhetorica_ adorns with
gems and gold; the Quadrivium, the four wheels. The horses, the
five senses, are then harnessed by _Ratio_. When the upward
journey has reached the term of human powers, _Prudentia_,
leaving her chariot, is conducted by _Theologia_ into the
empyrean, to the saints, to Mary, to God himself. Obtaining
of God the formation of the new man, _Prudentia_ returns to
seek gifts for the _anima creata_. _Natura_ gives it a body.
_Concordia_ and _Pudicitia_, _Ratio_ and _Honestas_, coöperate
in gifts with the seven arts. The dubious gifts of _Fortuna_
are assisted by _Ratio_. Thereupon the vices declare war, which
is concluded by the victory of the opposed virtues.

Alain incidentally defines the character of each of the seven arts, and
summarizes its scope. Each has its function—except _rhetorica_. The other
members of the Trivium[43] provide the car of Prudentia with essential
pole and axle; the Quadrivium supplies essential wheels; but all that
_Rhetorica_ has to offer is quite unessential adornment. Though Alain
rehearses the traditional parts of her ancient lore,[44] he sums up her
actual occupation in two lines of cardinal significance.

Supremasque manus apponit, opusque sororum
Perficit, atque semel factum perfectius ornat.

III. ii. 511 D.

In other words, rhetoric is not operative as composition, but only as
style after the fact. Her gifts to the soul are only _colores_, _decor_,
_clausula_.

Adsunt rhetoricæ cultus floresque colorum,
Verba quibus stellata nitent; et sermo decorem
Induit, et multa splendescit clausula luce.

VII. vi. 554 D.

Alain’s own use of rhetoric is consistent with this point of view.
Each of his allegorical figures is introduced with the conventional
descriptive ecphrasis; and his diffuseness arises from the idea that
_poetica_ involves decorative dilation by those _colores_ of which Cicero
and Vergil are equally patterns.

Verbi pauperiem redimit splendore _colorum_
Tullius, et dictis ornatus fulgura donat.
Virgilii musa mendacia multa _colorat_,
Et facie veri contexit pallia falso.

I. iv. 491 C.

2. The _Speculum Doctrinale_ of Vincent of Beauvais

The vast _Speculum_ of Vincent of Beauvais[45] is a compend of all
knowledge. Its second part, _Speculum doctrinale_, Mirror of Teaching,
devotes two books to the Trivium. _Grammatica_,[46] including metric,
follows Isidore. The following book[47] devotes ninety-eight chapters to
logic (_logica_), ten to rhetoric, twenty-three to poetic. The proportion
is significant; and _poetica_, taken from under the ægis of _grammatica_,
appears as a separate, coördinate section. For rhetoric Vincent, still
following Isidore,[48] repeats the classical definition and division. The
following chapters (101-108) deal briefly with the elements of a speech,
the ideals of oratory, the types of cases, status, syllogisms, _loci
rhetorici_, style.

Vincent then goes on to _poetica_,

which Alphorabius[49] in his book on the division of the
_scientiæ_ puts last among the parts of _logica_, and which in
his book on the origin of the _scientiæ_ he describes thus:
“_Poetica_ is the lore of ordering meters according to the
proportion of words (dictiones) and the times of feet and of
their rhythms (numeri).” Again he says in the former book: “It
belongs to _poetica_ to make the hearer through its locutions
image something as fair or foul which is not so,[50] that he
may believe and shun or desire it. Although certainly it is
not so in truth, nevertheless, the minds of hearers are roused
to shun or desire what they image.” Moreover poetry has seven
species: _comedia_, _tragedia_, _invectio_, _satyra_, _fabula_,
_historia_, _argumentum_.[51] _Comedia_ is poetry reversing a
sad beginning by a glad end; but _tragedia_ is poetry lapsing
from a glad beginning to a sad end (109). The function, then,
of the poet is in this, that with a certain beauty he converts
actual events into other species by his slanting figures (end
of 110).

Except meter, which belongs under _grammatica_, and the two forms of
drama, which are not thought of as forms of composition, there is nothing
to distinguish this poetic from rhetoric.

3. St. Bonaventure _de Reductione Artium ad Theologiam_

St. Bonaventure[52] distinguishes four “lights”: (1) the exterior light
of a manual art, illuminating with regard to artistic form; (2) the
inferior light of knowledge through the senses, illuminating with regard
to the patterns of nature; (3) the interior light of philosophical
knowledge, illuminating with regard to truth comprehended intellectually;
(4) the superior light of grace and revelation, illuminating with regard
to truth as a means of salvation.[53] For (3), the “interior light,” his
division is stated first in its commonest form. _Philosophia_ is: (a)
_rationalis_ (i.e., _sermonum_), (b) _naturalis_ (i.e., _rerum_), (c)
_moralis_ (i.e., _morum_). This division[54] he then repeats in another
form and order:

(a) _physica_, for knowing the causes of being;

(b) _logica_, for knowing the theory of understanding;

Finally he considers it in a third aspect. The domain of _moralis_
is motive; of _physica_ is self-limited and self-sufficient; of
_sermocinalis_ is interpretation. The last item he subdivides into:

_grammatica_, for expression, regarding reason as apprehension,
seeking the appropriate;

_logica_, for instruction, regarding reason as judgment,
seeking the true;

_rhetorica_, for persuasion, regarding reason as motive,
seeking the ornate.[55]

Bonaventure does not use the word _dialectica_. His word for this,
not for the whole Trivium,[56] is _logica_. Though his _movendum_ and
_motivam_ suggest association of rhetoric with morals, and remind one of
Aristotle’s conception, and Cicero’s, and Quintilian’s, he is content
to give rhetoric the narrow and barren field of _ornatus_, assigning
_docendum_ and _verum_ to logic.

4. The _Trésor_ of Brunetto Latini

The Old French _Trésor_ of Brunetto Latini[57] devotes a far larger
proportion of space than Vincent’s _Speculum_ to rhetoric. Book I,
surveying the seven arts,[58] includes history, geography, and the
zoölogy of the bestiaries. Book II adds to Aristotelian ethics a
collection of moral apothegms.[59] Book III opens politics with rhetoric.

Here begins the third book of the _Treasure_, which speaks of
the teachings of good speech and of the government of towns and
cities.... Cicero says that the highest lore for governing a
city is rhetoric.[60] 467.

They are mistaken who think that to tell fables or old stories
... is matter of rhetoric.... [Rather rhetoric is concerned
with] what is said by word of mouth or sent by letter to induce
belief, to praise or blame, to advise ... in something that
demands decision. 471.

The following chapters present the ancient division into five parts and
the lore of _status_ and _quæstio_.[61] But at this point the distinctive
ancient function of rhetoric begins to fade. After saying that the main
division of all expression is into prose and rime, he adds that “the
teachings of rhetoric are common to both,” save for the restrictions of
meter.[62] The section on _dispositio_, the ordering of a speech, takes
from Martianus Capella not his sober survey, but a single passage which
Brunetto perverts by subdivision and by transfer to narrative.

To exploration of the material [of a speech], with discernment
of its value for persuasion, is to be joined the ordering of
the points, which is the part commonly called _dispositio_....
The scheme may be either the natural order or devised by the
orator’s artifice; natural, when after the beginning comes the
statement of facts, then the division, proposition, proof,
conclusion and epilogue; by the orator’s artifice, when the
things that must be said have been distributed through the
parts of the speech.[63]

Here Martianus is apparently extending to the whole plan of a speech the
commonplace of ancient rhetoric that the _narratio_ (statement of facts)
might be either continuous as a single, distinct part, or distributed for
the sake of giving salience to its separate items. Brunetto’s further
extension is not his own; it is common stock of the contemporary _artes
poeticæ_.[64] These manuals make much of “natural” and “artificial”
order, subdivide each, and apply both to narrative. Brunetto is typical.

“Order [means] everything in its place; but this order is in
two manners, one which is natural and another artificial....
The artificial order is divided into eight manners”:

(1) to say at the beginning what was at the end,
(2) to begin with what was in the middle,
(3) to base your story on the beginning of a proverb,
(4) to base it on the middle of the proverb,
(5) to base it on the end of the proverb,
(6) (7) (8) so for three uses of an example. 482.

The mechanical division reflects a wide abeyance in theory, not only of
poetic shaping and movement, but even of the _dispositio_ of ancient
rhetoric; for its real concern is not with composition at all, whether in
prose or in verse, but with the phrasing of certain patterns.

Brunetto’s preoccupation with style, and with style mainly as decorative
dilation, soon appears in “how to dilate one’s tale in eight ways
... which are called colors of rhetoric.”[65] Among these _colores_,
under _demonstrance_ (_demonstratio_), is his celebrated, but entirely
conventional, ecphrasis on Yseult.

The traditional parts of a speech (exordium, etc.) are used[66] as
an approach to _dictamen_, of which Brunetto appears to be thinking
through much of what follows. The concluding chapters on statecraft are
far from a discussion of politics. Rather they set forth the conduct of
a seigneur. Thus they fail to carry out the relations of rhetoric to
government which in his opening he borrows from Cicero. Book III, then,
of the _Trésor_ lapses further and further from the ancient conception of
rhetoric with which it begins. The rhetoric which it actually presents,
and which it applies to poetry as well as to _dictamen_,[67] is a meager,
though pleasant, review of style.[68]

What rhetoric appears in these surveys to lack most is distinct function.
Writers as different as John of Salisbury and Brunetto Latini seem
to think of it as polishing, decorating, especially dilating, what
has been already expressed. It comes in after the real job is done;
it has lost its ancient function of composing. The ancient lore of
_inventio_ kept rhetoric in contact with subject matter and with actual
presentation. This had so much less scope in feudal society that the lore
easily lapsed, or was perverted. The only large field for its exercise
was preaching. Education, therefore, naturally threw its weight on
_grammatica_ for boys, on _dialectica_ for men. Between the two rhetoric
was crowded into narrow room. Whether it would still have vindicated
itself if it had been the rhetoric of Aristotle, or oftener the rhetoric
of Quintilian, can be only conjectured. Actually it was the rhetoric
of _De inventione_ and _ad Herennium_, and inculcated the sophistic of
Sidonius. That may explain why there was no medieval rhetorician who
really advanced the study.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Fulbert, c. 960-1028. His distinguished successor Ives, who ruled
Chartres 1090-1115, had been, with Anselm, a pupil of Lanfranc at Bec,
and had himself taught there (Clerval, 146).

That Chartres had the whole _Organon_ even before Gilbert de la Porrée,
Richard l’Evêque, and John of Salisbury is shown by Clerval, 244 seq.

Haskins notes in the twelfth century the primacy of the cathedral schools
(Laon, Tours, Chartres, Orléans, Paris) over the monastic.

(_The Normans in European History_, 177; _The Renaissance of the Twelfth
Century_, 49.)

[2] The traditional manuals and authors continue: Donatus, Priscian,
Martianus Capella (not much used), Bede, _De arte metrica_; Livy,
Valerius Maximus, Orosius, Gregory of Tours; Vergil, Ovid, Horace,
Terence, Statius; Fortunatus, Sedulius, Arator, Prudentius, Boethius.
_Prælectio_ appears at its best in John of Salisbury’s account of the
teaching of Bernard of Chartres (below pages 160-164). See the admirable
summaries, period by period, in Clerval.

The library at Bec in the twelfth century had Priscian, Isidore,
Martianus Capella (with Remi’s commentary), Anselm _De grammatica_, and
Claudian (PL 150: 775-782).

[3] Clerval, 111-113, suggests an influence on the earlier forms of
liturgical sequences.

[4] Colson (ed. of Book I, Cambridge, 1924) finds no clear indication of
Quintilian in the eleventh century; and the large use of him by John of
Salisbury in the twelfth (below, page 169) is not specifically related
to rhetoric. Cicero is limited to _De inventione_ and the commentary of
Victorinus (Clerval, 115). The _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ is the source of
the _Colores_ of Onulf, who taught at Speier c. 1050. The Bec library
had in the twelfth century “utraque rhetorica” (i.e., _De inv._ and _Ad
Herenn._), Cicero, _De partit. orat._, Suetonius, and the letters of
Sidonius. At Chartres Thierry cites Quintilian and, according to Clerval,
233, Cicero, _De oratore_. The latter, with Quintilian, appears in _A
list of textbooks from the close of the twelfth century_, Haskins in
Harvard Stud. Class. Phil. 20:92.

[5] Clerval, 115-116.

[6] *100 as described in Clerval, 117. Besides Fulbert’s verses, it
has (*10) two short treatises: _De rhetoricæ cognatione_, and _Locorum
rhetoricorum distinctio_. The _Topica_, of course, are common ground
between rhetoric and logic.

[7] Gilbertus Porretanus, c. 1075-1154, Chancellor at Chartres 1126,
teacher at Paris 1141, Bishop of Poitiers 1142; _Liber sex principiorum_,
_Comment. IV libr. Boeth._, _Liber de causis_. See Clerval, 163-168, and
Poole. Clerval suggests that Gilbert, as well as Thierry and Bernard
Silvester, had relations with the Toulouse translators of Arabic books
into Latin.

[8] Terricus Carnotensis, Breton, _scolarum magister_ at Chartres 1121,
taught rhetoric at Paris c. 1140, died c. 1150; _Comment. De invent._
and _Rhet. ad Herenn._; _Heptateuchon_ c. 1141 (Chartres MSS. *497, 498)
described in Clerval, 220 seq., with a synoptic table of contents.

[9] Donatus and Priscian.

[10] Cic. _De invent._ and _Partit. Orat._, _Rhet. ad Herenn._, the
summary of Severianus, and Martianus Capella.

[11] The usual Boethian items.

[12] Translated in Clerval, 221.

[13] Hugh of St. Victor, Saxon, c. 1096-1141, entered the Abbey of
St. Victor at Paris c. 1116 and taught there; works PL 175-177. See
especially Mignon, whose second chapter is a good summary of studies
before Hugh. A critical study of the MSS. by Hauréau (B.), _Les œuvres
de H. de St. V._, Paris, 1886 (a revision of a study published in 1859),
shows that _Eruditio didascalica_ has only six parts, the seventh added
in PL being a separate work. See also Fourier Bonnard, _Histoire de
l’abbaye royale et de l’ordre des chanoines réguliers de St. Victor de
Paris_, Paris (n. d.); and the index to Manacorda. John of Salisbury
refers to Hugh, and uses part of his classification.

[14] The division, which is common in the middle age (e.g., John of
Salisbury, _Metalogicus_, II. ii), is in Quintilian, _Inst. Or._ XII. 2.
10.

[15] About 1159. For John see Poole, the index to Clerval, and the
antiquated, but still suggestive study of Schaarschmidt, _J. S. nach
Leben und Studien ..._, Leipzig, 1862. Webb (C. C. I.) has edited the
_Policraticus_, Oxford, 1909, with an introduction especially valuable
for John’s reading, and announced an edition of the _Metalogicus_, for
which meantime the only available text is in PL 199, referred to in
this section by column. The letters, also in PL 199, were printed with
Gerbert’s and Stephen of Tournai’s in 1611 (Paris, Ruette). The _Historia
pontificalis_, printed in MGH as anonymous, has been edited by Poole,
Oxford University Press, 1927. _Policraticus_ IV, V, VI, with selections
from VII and VIII, are translated, with an introduction, by Dickinson
(J.) as _The statesman’s yearbook of J. of S._, New York, 1927.

[16] See the preceding section. John mentions Hugh at 833 A, 924 B. The
word _disserere_ Hugh and John may have taken, as John took other things
at the opening of Book II, from Isidore (see above, page 97); but the
ultimate source of the phrase _ratio disserendi_ is probably Cicero’s
_Topica_: “omnis ratio diligens disserendi duas habet partes, unum
inveniendi alteram iudicandi.” _Top._ 2. Cf. _Fin._ 1. 7. 22; _Fat._ 1.
1. _Disserere_ seems limited to _dialectica_ in _De orat._ I. 9 (see
Wilkins’s note); but using the same word in II. 157, Cicero points
out that the proper function of _dialectica_ is analysis (_iudicium_,
not _inventio_). In _Orator_ 113, discussing the common ground of
rhetoric and logic, he says “utrumque in disserendo est,” and goes on to
distinguish logic as _ratio disputandi_ from rhetoric as _ratio dicendi_.
_Dicere_ is generally his word for rhetoric. Quintilian, whom John uses
largely, probably has in mind the same distinction in X. 1. 81, though in
other places he uses _disserere_ more generally.

[17] I. xvii (847 C), xxiv (854 B), II. x (868 B).

[18] For John’s use of Quintilian, see below, page 169.

[19] In this respect _Metalogicus_ is conspicuously different from
_Policraticus_.

[20] These “Cornificians” are mentioned 825 C, 827 A, 852 B, 857 A. See
Clerval 182, 211, 227.

[21] Quadam proportione rationis, 841 B.

[22] This poetic is none the less rhetoric for being confirmed by
quotations from Horace (_Ars poetica_, 102-105, 108-111; see ARP 245).
The general doctrine of appropriateness was the basis of the specific
recipes for _encomium_ (above, page 31).

[23] Cf. Vincent of Beauvais below, section D. 2.

[24] The following translation renders entire the most specific extant
account of _prælectio_ in the middle age. Long selections from it
in French translation will be found in Clerval, 225-227; a shorter
selection, with the corresponding Latin text, in Faral, _Les arts
poétiques du xiie et du xiiie siècle_, Paris, 1924, 99-101. Haskins, 135,
has a short selection in English translation.

For _prælectio_, see the index to ARP and to this volume.

[25] _Illustratio_ is Quintilian’s word (and Cicero’s, he says) in VI.
ii. 32, where he is exhibiting the same sort of development as is here
indicated by John. For _historia_, _argumentum_, _fabula_ see the index.
That these were elementary school exercises suggests that the subject of
this sentence (_Illi_) refers not to authors, but to schoolboys engaged
in developing a _materia_; but the reference can hardly be determined in
PL, in which the whole sentence seems to me dubious.

[26] _Probandi colores._ The word _colores_ in this sense, unusual at
this time, is characteristic of Seneca Rhetor, to whom John refers in II.
viii. But the solution of a passage apparently corrupt may well await a
better text.

[27] Cf. III. vi (904 C). Et sicut juxta ethicum: discipulus prioris est
posterior dies.

[28] _Declinatio_ is the eighth item, under Priscian, in the list from
Thierry’s _Heptateuchon_ cited above, page 153.

[29] For _clausula_ see the indexes to ARP and to this volume; for John’s
own cadences, below, Chapter VIII.

[30] Œconomia.

[31] See below, page 170.

[32] For _inventio_ and _iudicium_ see Hugh above, page 154, and note 16.
Quintilian III. iii. 5 objects to the application of this to rhetoric.

[33] See Hugh’s division above, page 155.

[34] Vocum et intellectuum.

[35] Ficta, hypothetical? Sophistica seems to be intended in the
following clause.

[36] Thesis.

[37] Reading _aliarum_.

[38] This is pointed out by Colson in his edition of Quintilian’s first
book, Cambridge, 1924, page 1, note 2. It is the stranger that the
quotations should not have been noticed before since John himself calls
attention to them: “ut verbo utamur Quintiliani,” “ab auctoritate ejusdem
Quintiliani” (I. xxiv. 853 D).

[39] _Illustratio_ in I. xxiv (854 A/B) is probably a reminiscence of
Quintilian VI. ii. 32, to judge not only from the word, but from the
context in both passages. Cf. 844 A, 851 C, 860 C, 910 D.

[40] Alanus de Insulis (about 1128-1202), Cistercian at Citeaux,
sometimes called “doctor universalis,” wrote mainly on theology.
_Anticlaudianus_ was edited by Wright in the second volume of his
_Anglo-Latin Satirical Poets and Epigrammatists of the Twelfth Century_,
London, (Rolls Series), which contains also _De planctu naturæ_. The
latter has been translated by D. M. Moffat in Yale Studies in English,
New York, 1908.

The citations in this section are by column from PL 210. For the _Summa
de arte predicatoria_ see below, Chapter IX. C.

[41] See above, Chapter III. B. 1.

[42] For Hugh, see above, page 153.

[43] Alain’s order is the usual (1) _grammatica_, (2) _dialectica_, (3)
_rhetorica_. His _logica_ is _dialectica_, not the inclusive term of Hugh
and John. Its _auctores_ (III. ii. 510 A) are Porphyry, Aristotle, Zeno,
Boethius.

[44] III. ii. 512-513.

[45] About 1190-1264. The _Speculum_ was printed at Strasburg in 1473,
and by the Benedictines at Douai in 1624.

[46] Book III (II in the Benedictine edition).

[47] Book IV (III in the Benedictine edition).

[48] Vincent refers in Chapter 100 to Quintilian. “Tullius in libro de
oratore” (100 and 127) is probably not a reference to _De oratore_. In
101 “Tullius in rhetorica prima,” and in 127 “idem in rhetorica secunda,”
are the usual references to _De inventione_ and _ad Herennium_. For the
references to Quintilian see Bassi, _Giornale storico_, XXIII, 186, and
Colson’s introduction to his edition of Quintilian’s first book, page lii.

[49] Farabi. For translations from Arabic see above, page 153, and
Haskins, Chapter IX.

[50] Compare Alain above in the quotation on page 174.

[51] For the three school exercises that conclude this list see the
indexes to ARP and to this volume; for the rest of the classification,
Bede, above, Chapter V. B. 1.

[52] 1221-1274. The _Opusculum de reductione artium ad theologiam_ is
number 4 (pages 317-325) in volume 5 of the Works edited by the College
of St. Bonaventure, Quaracchi (Florence), 1891.

[53] (1) Lumen exterius artis mechanicæ illuminat respectu figuræ
artificialis;

(2) lumen inferius cognitionis sensitivæ illuminat respectu formæ
naturalis;

(3) lumen interius cognitionis philosophicæ illuminat respectu veritatis
intellectualis;

(4) lumen superius gratiæ et sacræ Scripturæ illuminat respectu veritatis
salutaris.

[54] For the classifications of Hugh of St. Victor and John of Salisbury
see above, sections B and C.

[55]

(a) moralis regit motivam;
(b) naturalis regit se ipsam;
(c) sermocinalis regit interpretativam:
(1) grammatica ad exprimendum respicit rationem ut apprehensivam
... congruum;
(2) logica ad docendum respicit rationem ut iudicativam ... verum;
(3) rhetorica ad movendum respicit rationem ut motivam ... ornatum.

[56] That he does not intend _logica_ in the larger sense of Hugh and
John will be clear from comparative study of the three forms of his
division, and also from _Collationes in hexaëmeron_ (in the same volume),
IV. 18-25. This briefly sums up _rhetorica_ according to its ancient
topics, including the three fields and the five parts. Here again
_dialectica_ is not used, and _logica_ merely supersedes it.

[57] 1230-1294. The _Trésor_ is edited, with an introduction, by
Chabaille in the Collection des documents inédits sur l’histoire de
France, Paris, 1863. References in this section are to the pages of
this edition. The Italian version, also widely current, is edited by L.
Gaiter, Bologna, 1878. See also F. Maggini, _La rettorica italiana di B.
L._ (Pub. del R. Istituto di studi superiori), Florence, 1913.

[58] The proem, beginning with theology as the highest lore of
_theorica_, makes the usual enumeration under _mathematica_, divides
_practica_, “la seconde science de philosophie,” into “éthique .
économique . politique,” and so arrives at rhetoric, but with some
confusion as to logic.

[59] See Chabaille, xv.

[60] Villani may be merely repeating this when he says: “Egli fu
cominciatore e maestro in digrossare i Fiorentini, e farli scorti in bene
parlare et in sapere guidare e reggere la nostra repubblica secondo la
politica.” VIII. x.

[61] Brunetto’s main source is Cicero _De invent._

[62] La grans partisons de touz parleors ... en prose ... en rime; mais
li enseignement de rectorique sont commun andui, sauf ce que la voie de
prose est large et pleniere, si comme est ore la commune parleure des
gens; mais li sentiers de rime est plus estroiz et plus fors. 481.

[63] His igitur ad fidem faciendam prudenter inuentis ordo rerum est
sociandus, quæ pars _dispositio_ uocitatur ... duplex igitur huius partis
est ratio; aut enim naturalis est ordo aut oratoris artificio comparatur:
naturalis, cum post principium narratio, partitio, propositio,
argumentatio, conclusio epilogusque consequitur; artificio oratoris, cum
per membra orationis quæ dicenda sunt digerimus. V. 506 (Teubner, ed.
Dick, 248).

[64] See below, Chapter VII. B.

[65] “Comment l’om puet acroistre son conte en viij manieres ... qui sont
apelees color de rectorique.” The first of these, _aornement_, is defined
so bluntly that the humorous implication may be intentional: “tout ce
que l’om porroit en iij moz ou en iiij, ou a mult po de paroles dire, il
les acroist par autres paroles plus longues et plus avenans qui dient ce
meisme.” 486.

[66] 490.

[67] For _dictamen_, see below, Chapter VIII.

[68] Jean d’Antioche in his introduction to the translation of _De
inventione_ and _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ (end of XIIIth century) has two
divisions of _Philosophye_: (A) into _ethique morale_, _rationele_, and
_naturele_; (B) as follows:—

Philosophye

Practique Teorique
Civile Dispensative Morale Naturele Devine Matematique
| | |
| | |
{ Mecanique { Prudence |
{ Droit { Justize |
{ Sermocinale { Force |
| { Temprance { Geometrie
| { Arismetique
{ Gramaire { Muzique
{ Logique { Astronomie
{ Retorique |
| |
| |
+-------------------Les vii ars------------------+

Delisle in _Notices et Extraits_, 36:216.

Neither _Le mariage des sept arts_ nor Henri d’Andeli’s _Bataille des
sept arts_ contains any information about teaching.

CHAPTER VII

LATIN POETIC IN THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES

REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS

AH Dreves and Blume, _Analecta hymnica medii ævi_, Leipzig
(vol. 1, 1886; vol. 53, 1911; sixty volumes proposed).

ARP Baldwin (C. S.), _Ancient rhetoric and poetic_, New
York, 1924.

Britt Britt (the Rev. Matthew, O. S. B.), _The hymns of the
Breviary and Missal_, New York, 1922.

F Faral (E.), _Les arts poétiques du xiie et du xiiie
siècle_, recherches et documents sur la technique
littéraire du moyen âge, Paris, 1924.

Manacorda Manacorda (G.), _Storia della scuola in Italia_, vol. I,
_Il medio evo_, Milan, 1913 (2 parts in separate volumes).

Mari Mari (G.), _I trattati medievali di ritmica latina_, Milan,
1899, pages 35-80, for the latter part of the _Poetria_ of
Johannes de Garlandia; for the former part, Romanische
Forschungen XIII (1901-1902), pages 883-965.

Misset-Aubry Misset (l’Abbé E.) and Aubry (P.), _Les proses d’Adam de
St. Victor_, texte et musique, précédées d’une étude
critique, Paris, 1900.

A. _POETICA_ INCLUDED IN _GRAMMATICA_

The _grammatica_ of this period continued the traditional inclusion of
metric and of certain figures of speech; and the master’s _prælectio_
on the Latin poets involved at Chartres, as two centuries before at
Speier,[1] imitative writing of Latin verse. About 1200 appeared two
hexameter summaries: the _Doctrinale_[2] of the Norman Alexandre de
Villedieu, and the _Græcismus_[3] of the Flemish Évrard de Béthune. The
former had so long and wide a vogue that it may be called the standard
medieval mnemonic of _grammatica_. Reviewing successively inflections,
syntax, metric,[4] accents, figures, it includes under the last the lists
of Greek terms that show at once a preoccupation of the time and the
shifting boundary between _grammatica_ and _rhetorica_.[5]

B. _POETRIA_

Distinctive of this period is the separate _ars poetica_, or _poetria_.
Often itself in verse, this sort of manual differed from Bede’s, first in
being less a reference book for the study of meters than an exercise book
for the actual writing of Latin verse, and secondly in giving less space
to prosody than to poetic diction. The four most conspicuous[6] may be
assigned approximately to the half-century divided by 1200 (c. 1175-1225).

1. Matthieu de Vendôme, _Ars Versificatoria_ (before 1175)

Matthew’s prose manual, though it omits prosody, is otherwise connected
even more obviously than the others with the teaching of _grammatica_.
Not only is he known to have been _grammaticus_ at Orléans; his book
is inclined throughout in the direction of such teaching,[7] and it
contains specimen school exercises. The grammatical slant is most
obvious in those on adjectives in _-alis_, _-osus_, _-atus_, _-ivus_,
_-aris_.[8] The longer examples of descriptive verse may well be such
successively revised themes as were seen earlier at Speier.[9] The use of
Horace’s “Ars poetica” is so extensive, even for the time, as to suggest
that Matthew’s book may have begun in his _prælectiones_ on that poem.
Whatever degree of probability may be attached to these suggestions,
there is no doubt of Matthew’s intention and preoccupation. His book
seeks to further the writing of Latin descriptive verse. The idea behind
it is that poetry is mainly description, which in turn proceeds mainly by
dilation. Style, which is his only concern, is conceived as decoration.
Though his lists of figures for this purpose (III) generally agree with
those of the _Doctrinale_,[10] rhetoric is evident not only in the phrase
_colores rhetorici_,[11] but as a constant preoccupation. That _poetica_
as style is identical with _rhetorica_ he assumes; that it is distinct as
composition can hardly have entered his head, but composition in either
field is beyond his scope. His sections on beginning (I. 3-16) refer not
to introducing the subject, but to phrasing the first sentences. The
faults then enumerated (I. 30-37) are of style. Description is expounded
(I. 38-113) as appropriateness of phrase to condition, age, place, etc.,
and as the seeking of “attributes” in a person’s physical and mental
habit, his deeds, his speech,[12] or in the cause, quality, and time of
an event. Reference to subject, thought, or composition goes no further;
the rest of the book is purely verbal.

2. Geoffroi de Vinsauf, _Poetria Nova_ (c. 1210)

The extraordinary vogue of Geoffrey’s two thousand hexameters in itself
suggests that his too is an exercise book. To suppose that it was
cherished for its literary achievement is to impute to several centuries
a larger and more general appetite for bombast than other evidence
warrants. As school mnemonics his verses are more tolerable. As exercises
in synonyms they have excuse for their redundancy. As suggestions
and examples in the pursuit of figures they have more warrant for
exaggeration as a means of distinctness. Caricature, which can never have
been the intention of a man devoid of humor, has before Geoffrey’s time,
and since, resulted from sheer overemphasis. His own incessant word-play
is so anxious as to verge sometimes on _reductio ad absurdum_. Or were
some of these tirades made to order by his students? May they be such
progressively revised composite themes as the earlier schools assigned in
similar hexameter tasks?[13] At any rate, a probable explanation of the
portentous style, as well as a charitable one, is that the _Poetria nova_
was a museum for boys.

After bowing to the ancient _inventio_ and _dispositio_, neither of which
is in point and neither handled as a process of composing, Geoffrey
devotes most of his book to the rhetorical means of dilation. This is
the aim of the _colores_, not only of verbal expansions in general, but
in particular of two sorts of deliberate interpolation: apostrophe and
description.

To go farther afield, let apostrophe be the fourth means of
lingering by which you may detain the subject.

Seventh comes description, pregnant with words, to dilate the
work.[14]

Chaucer,[15] whose ironical homage has made Geoffrey a laughing-stock,
was exploding the use of these figures in verse narrative. In oratory
also of a certain sort he exhibits their deviation in the specimen
preaching of the Pardoner because they are perennial in sophistic.
Geoffrey’s description is precisely the ecphrasis cultivated throughout
the Empire in _declamatio_.[16] In a word, Geoffrey’s poetic, as
Alain’s, Vincent’s, Brunetto Latini’s,[17] is mainly the rhetoric of
dilation. The sophistic of the ancient encomium, walking the schools once
more, is now called Poetria.

3. Évrard, _Laborintus_ (c. 1213)

The _Laborintus_[18] is at once briefer and more inclusive. Opening with
rueful mock-heroic on the lot of a schoolmaster, it glances through the
seven arts in a series of allusions, and expands upon _grammatica_.
Thus poetry is reached by the traditional approach.[19] Most space,
however (269-598), is given to exemplifying rhetorical ornament,
especially figures. Though the list, as usual, is long, the manufactured
or borrowed examples are short. Évrard’s plan of tucking away each
within a closed hexameter-pentameter couplet is carried out with some
ingenuity. Though he has to take more room for _demonstratio_ (573-594),
he generally abjures Geoffrey’s dilating upon dilation. His examples
are rather mnemonics than exhibitions. The fourth section (599-686)
is a list of authors for school reading.[20] The order, though not
obviously progressive, suggests: (1) certain brief moralizing works for
elementary study, i.e., a “Cathonet” (the so-called “Distichs of Cato”),
a “Théodolet,” or “Theudlet” (the allegorical verse dialogue entitled
_Theodulus_),[21] an “Ysopet,” or collection of fables;[22] (2) the
classics and their imitators, with Vergil applied as the exemplar of all
“three styles”;[23] (3) the Latin summaries of the Trojan war, Dares and
the _Ilias latina_, (4) Sidonius and the earlier Christian poets, Alain’s
_Anticlaudianus_, and Matthew’s _Tobias_; (5) a group of works on style,
i.e., Geoffrey’s _Poetria_; the _Doctrinale_ and _Græcismus_, Matthew’s
_Ars versificatoria_, Martianus Capella, and Bernard Silvester.[24]

The section on metric (687-834) exemplifies the leonine verses repudiated
by Matthew,[25] the handling of phrases and clauses—even to such
ingenuities as reversible lines, several patterns of internal rime in
the hexameter,[26] and typical faults. After lamenting a schoolmaster’s
hardships (835-990), Évrard concludes (991-end) with classified
specimens of _rhythmi_. There is a noticeable preponderance of trochaic
measures.[27] The final group of quatrains in a measure common both in
hymns and in Goliardic use is clearly a school exercise in framing a
stanza to end upon a familiar quotation.

4. Johannes de Garlandia, _Poetria_ (probably before mid-Thirteenth
Century).

John’s work differs from the other three in specific application to
_dictamen_.[28] The inclusion of _poetria_ and _dictamen_ in one
treatise, though ill managed, is a practical adjustment to the teaching
of the time. As taught, both were _rhetorica_, and both were confined
within the single department anciently called _elocutio_. John begins,
indeed, as Geoffrey does, with _inventio_; but his treatment of it[29]
shows how faint in his time were even the echoes of its ancient function.
Invoking for it simultaneously the “Ars poetica” and the _Rhetorica ad
Herennium_, he first misapplies it to adaptation of style to person,
occasion, etc., as in a letter—and as in the “three styles” of which
Vergil is again made the exemplar! Then he perverts it to the search for
appropriate proverbs, of which he provides a classified list for use in
_dictamen_. His further applications show that _inventio_ in his practise
is purely verbal and leads, as fatally as all other approaches, to the
lists of figures. “Nor should it be forgotten,” he adds (897),[30]
“that any theme (_materia_) can be expressed in six ways according to
the six cases of the noun.” As if uneasy at the ancient application of
the term, he appends a final section _De arte inveniendi materiam_, as
a separate device for “boys wishing to amplify and vary a theme.” For
example, in writing about a book they might find occasion for praise
or blame in the efficient cause, i.e., in the writer; in the material
cause, i.e., in parchment, ink, etc. This can hardly be the mere dotage
of John the Englishman. It is a sharp reminder of the educational level
of these manuals; and it shows that the old _inventio_ had departed from
_rhetorica_.[31]

Otherwise he could hardly go on (Chapter II): “After _inventio_ ...
follows _electio_. Tully after _inventio_ puts _dispositio_, then the
art of memorizing, and finally delivery; but, for writers of poetry
or _dictamen_, after _inventio_ the useful art is that of choosing”!
The choosing that he means is of the right style, “brief for affairs
of the Curia (i.e., _dictamen_), diffuse for poetry” (897). Again he
exemplifies by a specimen letter. _Memoria_ is considered merely as
mnemonic; and the cardinal mnemonic is a diagram of the “three styles”
(900), each with its proper furniture of persons and things occupying a
segment of a circle, the _Rota Virgili_.[32] As in the other manuals,
the “art of beginning” (905), though divided into several modes, has
little to do with composition. A letter (907) may begin with a proverb,
an example, a comparison, with _si_, or _cum_, or _dum_, or an ablative
absolute. The “six parts of a discourse” (911) are summarily defined as
by the ancients, but thereupon exemplified in seventy-eight elegiacs. As
in the other manuals also, the art of concision (913) is mentioned; but
the art of dilation (914) by figures is dilated.

Such clumsy handling makes obvious the misapplications of rhetoric to
poetic that are current among John’s contemporaries. Another perversion
equally general is that of the _narratio_[33] of a speech to narrative.
After exhibiting quite properly the statement of facts in a letter as an
application of _narratio_, John deviates as follows:

But since _narratio_ is common to prose and meter, we must
enumerate its kinds [the three kinds of poetry taken by Bede
from Diomedes[34]].... Under the second falls the _narratio_
which is distinguished by Tully thus: there is a kind of
_narratio_ remote from legal pleading ... _fabula_, _historia_,
_argumentum_ (926).

Brunetto Latini shows not only the same deviation,[35] but also that
“natural order and artificial order” which John (905) and the other
pedagogues had perverted from Martianus Capella’s _narratio_ to
narrative, and, behind both, the general misconception of the ancient
_dispositio_.[36] Terms traditional in ancient rhetoric for the processes
of composition are deviated at once to poetic and to style because the
consideration never extends beyond figures, feet, or clauses.

Thus John is able to add (928) to the “three poetic styles ... four
other styles in modern use: (1) the Gregorian, (2) the Tullian, (3)
the Hilarian, (4) the Isidorian. By the first he means the Roman style
in _dictamen_.”[37] The second he distinguishes not by rhythm, but
by _colores_, and as “used both by poets when they write prose and
by teachers in school exercises.” The third, defined metrically, is
exemplified both by an ancient hymn[38] and (929) by a letter. The
fourth, that of Augustine’s _Soliloquies_, marks the balance of clauses
not by equality of length, but by chiming cadences. To the usual list of
figures are added the ten commonplaces (939) for the description of a
person;[39] to a lust-and-blood plot (_tragedia_), further specimens of
_dictamen_. Rhetoric and poetic are merged in one scheme of style. The
scheme is confused; but the intention is single.

The final section, _ars ritmica_, is significant, as Évrard’s is, by
its very presence in a schoolbook. It shows (56)[40] the same school
assignment of a stanza framed to end on a familiar quotation. Its
classification of examples, though not illuminating, is much clearer than
the subdivisions of the chapters preceding. _Rhythmus_, the verse of
the hymns, distinguished from _metrum_ though discussed in some of the
ancient metrical terms, is presented for study and practise. For the
schoolboys who used it, as for the modern explorer, this section must
have offered the relief of an active poetic after the drill of deviated
rhetoric.[41]

5. Common Traits

The pedantic subdivision of these manuals shows that their aim was not
to organize the study of poetic, but to cover its elements by as many
exercises as possible. Imitative writing of Latin verse, long part of the
study of _grammatica_, has been combined with the theory of _rhetorica_
through exercises in figures, and with its practise through exercises
in _dictamen_. Doubtless the resulting aggregation was called _poetria_
both because the exercises were still connected with the traditional
_prælectio_ and were oftenest in verse, and because, whether in verse
or in _dictamen_, they were focused on that heightening by ornament and
by dilation which was conventionally regarded as poetic. _Poetria_,
then, meant generally the study of style, and specifically the study of
stylistic decoration. The lore for this was rhetoric,[42] partly indeed
by misapplication, partly from the vagueness of the boundary in Latin
tradition. The “colors of rhetoric,” not always clearly distinguished,
sometimes strangely spelled, were faithfully recited as a sort of Greek
ritual of poetic. The confusion went to its bitter end in that stock
perversion by which Vergil’s poetic was broken on the wheel into three
pieces of rhetoric.

The vital difference between rhetoric and poetic in composition, probably
beyond the ken of these writers, was certainly beyond the intention of
these manuals. Composition for them goes no further than the adjustment
of a sentence. The ancient _inventio_ and _dispositio_, sometimes dragged
in by misapplication, are generally ignored. The distinction of “natural”
from “artificial” order provides a pattern, not to promote composition,
but to obviate its necessity. So the “methods of beginning” are presented
as verbal devices. The scope of these manuals suggests that rhetoric,
whether in its own name or as _poetria_, did not teach composition. What
had once been part of rhetoric was now left to logic and the debates of
the schools. As for poetic composition, the active progress of vernacular
verse narrative would hardly be represented in a schoolbook. What is
represented, what appears alike in school Latin and in professional
vernacular,[43] is surviving conventional pattern, the passive voice
of poetic, not its active. Marie had found another poetic. Chrétien,
though he had accepted some of the same conventions of style, had learned
otherwise what he knew of narrative movement. Even Latin narrative had
been otherwise studied by Walter Map. To poetic in this larger composing
activity the _poetria_ of the schools offers no clue. At the turn of the
next century Dante, who knew all its poetic conventions, ignored them in
a supreme composition; and within that century Chaucer, who knew them
too, laughed them away.

C. HYMNS

1. Progress of Rimed Stress Verse

The ancient quantitative metric learned in school was often practised in
such occasional verse as Baudry de Bourgeuil’s.[44] Both his elegiacs and
his partially rimed verses are literary exercises. More significant is
the tentative use of rime in the same eleventh century by Fulbert.

Verbum Dei Spiritumque legifer in Genesi,
Rex David secundo psalmo post tricenum cecin_it_;
Sic uterque Trinitatem unitatis prodid_it_.

Sapiens cum genitore sancto suo Salomon
Plane verbo declaravit esse Deo Fili_um_,
Verbum scilicet æternum corde ejus genit_um_:

PL 141: 342.[45]

Heribert, Bishop of Eichstätt in 1021, rimed more confidently, but still
without insistence.

Salve, crux sancta, salve mundi gloria,
Vera spes nostra, vera ferens gaudia,
Signum salutis, salus in periculis,
Vitale lignum, vitam portans omnium....

AH 50: 291.

The danger of insistence in rimed stress verse was already evident in
many accentual hexameters riming the end of the verse with the middle.
How easily the combination lapses into doggerel appears in a common
seven-stress verse with marked cæsura (4 + 3).

Gratiæ millesimo ducentesimoque
Anno sexagesimo quarto quarta quoque
Feria Pancratii post sollempnitatem
Valde gravis prelii tulit tempestatem
Anglorum turbatio castroque Lewensi,
Nam furori ratio, vita cessit ensi....

_The Battle of Lewes_ (in Wright’s _Political Songs_,
Camden Society, 1839, page 72).

Such mechanical versifying merely makes obvious that stress rhythm was
the established habit.[46] By the twelfth century anything else was
merely literary exercise, quite out of the literary current; and the
danger of obtruding the stress pattern of failing to fuse it with the
other means of suggestion, was more and more expertly avoided.

How far even a very marked pattern of stress and rime could be carried
was demonstrated in the famous _De contemptu mundi_ of Bernard of
Cluny.[47] Though its arraignment of his age soon faded, its detail of
doom and redemption, its realization of eternal life, showed poetic
vitality. Bernard’s failure in organizing the movement of the whole is
thus forgotten in the striking success of these parts.[48]

Nescio, nescio quæ jubilatio, lux tibi qualis,
Quam socialia gaudia, gloria quam specialis.
Laude studens ea tollere, mens mea victa fatiscit.
O bona gloria, vincor; in omnia laus tua vicit.
Stant Sion atria conjubilantia, martyre plena,
Cive micantia, Principe stantia, luce serena.

The heavenly Jerusalem has never been contrasted with the cities of the
perverted present more eloquently. For Bernard’s achievement of style is
rather in the ample realizations of eloquence than in poetic compression.
The poetic distinction is in the verse. The sheer technical mastery of
insistently rimed stress rhythm shows the possibilities of the verse
habit of his time.

Hora novissima, tempora pessima sunt; vigilemus.
Ecce minaciter imminet arbiter, ille supremus.

Thus the poem begins; and the cento made from it is often entitled[49]
_Hora novissima_. Accentual hexameters rimed within—the Leonine system
carried a step further—are rimed together as couplets. They are entirely
dactylic except in the last foot; the typical ancient variation by
spondee within the line is never used. Finally they are divided into
three staves of two beats each, thus foregoing another ancient variation,
the shift of cæsura. The first two staves of each line rime together; the
last rimes with the last stave of the next line. The pattern could hardly
be more marked. Yet the drumming dactyls, the insistent rime, are kept
in movement; they do not stall even when the weaving of the line becomes
sheer virtuosity.

Pax ea pax rata, pax superis data, danda modestis.

Bernard demonstrated that even insistently rimed stress rhythm could be
kept from jar and jingle by attending constantly to movement. For this he
exhibited further the capacity of accentual dactyls. More generally he
displayed with great technical skill the range and flexibility of rhythm
always chiming with word-accent, that is always answering the habit of
speech.

The currency of rimed stress verse is obvious in student songs and
other jocular and satirical poems known generically as Goliardic.[50] A
little satire on masters and bachelors of arts, assigned to the eleventh
century, is typical of the ease with which such verse could be turned.

Jam fit magister artium
Qui nescit quotas partium
De vero fundamento.
Habere nomen appetit,
Rem vero nec curat nec scit,
Examine contento.

Jam fiunt baccalaurii
Pro munere denarii
Quamplures idiotæ.
In artibus ab aliis
Egregiis scientiis
Sunt bestiæ promotæ.

E. du Méril, _Poésies populaires du moyen
âge_, Paris, 1847, page 153.

Of the numerous twelfth- and thirteenth-century poems of this sort, many
of which have been repeated ever since, none is more famous than the
drinking song once attributed to Walter Map.

Mihi est propositum in taberna mori.
Vinum sit appositum morientis ori,
Ut dicant cum venerint angelorum chori:
Deus sit propitius huic potatori....

Du Méril, 205.

2. Variations in Trochaic Stanza

Rime no longer incidental, but integral and composing, opened to medieval
poetic wide artistic possibilities of stanza. The austere requiem
sequence of Thomas of Celano, _Dies iræ_, is cast in three-line trochaic
stanzas of a single rime.

Dies iræ, dies illa,
Solvet sæclum in favilla,
Teste David cum Sibylla.

Quantus tremor est futurus
Quando Judex est venturus,
Cuncta stricte discussurus!...

Britt, 87.

That forty of the forty-five hymns assigned by Misset-Aubry to Adam of
St. Victor are trochaic shows the strong preference of the time. The
commonest of these trochaic stanzas, the favorite hymn measure of the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries, expands _Corde natus_ into a six-line
stanza by doubling the first stave in a riming couplet twice and using
the second stave between the two couplets and at the riming end.

In natale Salvatoris
angelorum nostra choris
succinat conditio.
Armonia diversorum
sed in unum redactorum
dulcis est connexio.

Felix dies hodiernus,
in quo Patri coeternus
nascitur ex virgine;
felix dies et iocundus!
illustrari gaudet mundus
veri solis lumine....

Adam of St. Victor, _In die Natali Domini_.

Using this scheme oftener than any other, Adam rarely holds to it
throughout a hymn. His way is rather to vary it in one or two stanzas;
and in some of his hymns he even interpolates a stanza of a different
measure. For example, the ninth stanza of this Christmas hymn departs
entirely from the pattern except in the middle and end lines.

Quam subtile Dei consilium,
quam sublime rei misterium!
virga florem,
vellus rorem,
virgo profert filium.
Nec pudorem lesit conceptio,
nec virorem floris emissio:
concipiens
et pariens
comparatur lilio.

This is the only variation; all the other stanzas are regular. The _Lauda
Sion_ sequence of St. Thomas Aquinas varies the measure but slightly; and
the _Stabat Mater_ keeps it strictly—even reinforces it with additional
rimes.

Adam’s harmonizing of rimed rhythmic, conspicuous above, has great range
and variety. The range appears in the following contrast:

Suggestor sceleris
pulsus a superis
per huius aeris
oberrat spacia,
dolis invigilat,
virus insibilat;
sed hunc adnichilat
presens custodia.

_St Michael_, v (Misset-Aubry 214)

Salve dies dierum gloria,
dies felix Christi victoria,
dies digna iugi leticia,
dies prima!
Lux divina cecis irradiat
in qua Christus infernum spoliat,
mortem vincit et reconciliat
summis ima.

Feria IV [_Pasche_], i (Misset-Aubry 185)

Within a hymn the variations are delicate adjustments. The hymn on the
Cross strikes the familiar measure, swerves from it, returns to it,
varies it.

Laudes crucis attollamus,
nos qui crucis exultamus
speciali gloria.

Dulce melos
tangat celos,
dulce lignum
dulci dignum
credimus melodia.
Voce vita non discordet;
cum vox vitam non remordet,
dulcis est simphonia.

Servi crucis crucem laudent
qui per crucem sibi gaudent
vite dari munera.
Dicant omnes et dicant singuli:
Ave, salus totius seculi,
arbor salutifera.

O quam felix, quam preclara
hec salutis fuit ara,
rubens agni sanguine,
agni sine macula
qui mundavit secula
ab antiquo crimine!

_De cruce_, i-iv (Misset-Aubry 189)

3. Symbolism

Quite as widely Adam realized the poetic possibilities of symbolism.
Imagination in the middle age was stirred habitually by types. As these
spoke in sculpture and glass they spoke in the hymns. Medieval symbolism
sought to induce mood, to stir emotion, not by individualizing concrete
details, but by familiar typical associations: lamb, vine, star of the
sea. Such symbols, long ago drawn from Messianic prophecy,[51] had become
both numerous and familiar. They differ essentially from the figures
of the _poetriæ_ in being not decoration, not epithets or periphrases
used instead of proper names, but immediate lyrical approaches. _Light_
is used, not instead of the sacred name, or of some such title as
Redeemer or Savior, but to focus attention on the Light of the World.
So _Cornerstone_,[52] or _Lamb_, or _Bread_, suggests redemption
immediately in one aspect. So the Redeemer is seen to be foreshadowed
in Isaac,[53] Joseph, or David; for medieval art sees history as the
progress of the redemption of mankind.

In this aspect the symbols of the Virgin Mother are lyric not merely
in warmth of emotion, but in visions of human progress as divine. In
turn _Bush_ burning but unburnt, _Flower_, _Fleece_ bedewed, _Star_
immemorially guiding sailors, she embodies personally hope after hope.
This habitual symbolism of stone and glass and hymn is less sentimental
than intellectual. While it appeals to childhood memories, it opens
vistas. The surcharging of the Corpus Christi hymns does not cloud their
scholastic precision.

Ecce, panis angelorum,
Factus cibus viatorum,
Vere panis filiorum,
Non mittendus canibus.
In figuris præsignatur,
Cum Isaac immolatur,
Agnus Paschæ deputatur,
Datur manna patribus.

_Lauda Sion_, x; AH 50: 584.

Panis angelicus fit panis hominum,
Dat panis cælicus figuris terminum;
O res mirabilis! Manducat Dominum
Servus pauper et humilis.

_Sacris sollemniis_, vi; AH 50: 587.

Keeping much of the tradition of its earliest centuries, hymnody has
nevertheless widened its range; keeping communal devotion, it has risen
in contemplation. This is the character of the poetry written for the
new feast by the Angelic Doctor.[54] The enthusiasm of the popular
processions is answered, but it is also brought to its goal. The
greatest medieval hymns obliterate the crude distinction between “reason”
and “feeling,” between “thought” and “emotion.” They remind us of that
ancient saying about the sublime, that it springs from intellectual vigor
of conception.[55] That is why, of all medieval poetry, they are the best
approach to the _Divina Commedia_.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Pages 129, 152.

[2] In 1199; represents the new school of Paris as against the
conservatives of Orléans; 2645 hexameters; in use at Troyes, 1436 (Carré
(G.), _L’enseignement secondaire à Troyes_, Paris, 1888, pages 18, 19,
49).

First printed at Venice by Wendelin of Spires, 1470; more than 160
editions by 1500 (Allen (P.), _The Age of Erasmus_, page 41), though
meantime attacked by Valla and Sulpitius Verulanus.

Ed. Reichling (D.) Berlin, 1893, with an introduction of 300 pages,
including the researches of Thurot. See also Manacorda, index.

Generally speaking, the _Doctrinale_ was current throughout Europe for
three hundred years.

Fierville (Ch.) exhibits the interesting return to Priscian of a
thirteenth-century grammarian evidently dissatisfied with the method of
Alexander (_Une grammaire inédite du xiiie siècle ..._ Paris, 1886).

[3] About 1212, _Græcismus de figuris et octo partibus orationis, sive
grammaticæ regulæ versibus latinis explicatæ_; mentioned by Henri
d’Andeli (ed. Paetow, 49, 50); by Reginald Pecock, _Reule_ (ed. Greet, E.
E. T. S., 251); printed 1487, Paris; reprinted in Corpus grammaticorum
latinorum medii ævi, vol. I, Wratislaviæ, 1887. See Manacorda, index.

[4] In this part (III) he makes bold to say (1559): “Cum sim Christicola,
normam non est mihi cura / de propriis facere quæ gentiles posuere.” In
the next part also (IV, accents) he insists on the habit of the actual
Latin verse of the time (2295): “hos solos usu debes servare moderno”;
and again (2329) “Accentus normas legitur posuisse vetustas; / non tamen
has credo servandas tempore nostro.”

[5] The first list (2365), pleonasmos, is: acyrologia, cacosyntheton,
eclipsis, tautologia, amphibologia, tapinosis, macrologia, perissologia,
cacenphaton, aleoteta.

The second, metaplasmus (2405), appears as: prothesis, epenthesis,
paragoge, auferesis (syncopa, apocopa), systola, ectasis, etc.

The third, schema (2445), is: prolempsis, zeugma, sylempsis, hypozeuxis,
anadiplosis, epanalempsis, epizeuzis, anaphora, paronomœon, schesis
onomaton, homoteleuton, paronomasia, polyptoton, etc.

The fourth, tropi (2497), is: metaphora, metonomia, antonomasia,
catachresis, onomatopœia, synodoche, allegoria, hyperbole, etc.

[6] F, cardinal for these _poetriæ_, and a most important contribution
to medieval poetic, studies dates, ascriptions, and relations, provides
analytical tables of contents, sums up in its introduction the common
rhetorical doctrine, and for three of these authors establishes critical
texts. The fourth and latest, Johannes de Garlandia, will be found in
Mari.

[7] Ad informationem puerilis disciplinæ quasdam dictiones quæ
cooperativæ sunt ... interserui. II. 12 (F 154). Qui in scolastico
exercitio fabulas circinantes poeticas. IV. 1 (F 180). In scolastico
versificandi exercitio. IV. 16 (P 184).

[8] II. 15-26 (F 155-160). He adds: “sunt et aliæ terminationes
adjectivorum; sed in prælibatis ornatior verborum festivitas et
elegantior junctura potest assignari.” (F 155).

[9] I. 50-58, 107-111 (F 121-132, 146-149). For the practise at Speier,
see above, page 141.

[10] See note 5, above.

[11] III. 45.

[12] Sunt igitur attributa personæ undecim: nomen, natura, convictus,
fortuna, habitus, studium, affectio, consilium, casus, facta, orationes,
I. 77 (F 136). Both the topics and their application are descended from
the encomium of sophistic. See above, page 31.

[13] Above, note 7, and page 141.

[14]

Latius ut curras, sit apostropha quarta morarum
Qua rem detineas et ubi spatieris ad horam.

264.

Septima succedit prægnans Descriptio verbis,
Ut dilatet opus.

554.

A hundred lines later Geoffrey can still say:

Restat adhuc aliud quod linguam reddit opimam.

So certain is he of dilation as the mode of poetry that he demands
support for it even of Horace.

Multiplice forma
Dissimuletur idem; varius sis et tamen idem.

224.

The doctrine is no less insistent in his prose treatise, also printed in
F. See especially II. 2. A. (F 271-284).

[15] Tale of the Nun’s Priest, 521 (B 4531). The allusions are to
_Poetria_ 326 (Anglia regnorum regina), 375 (O Veneris lacrimosa dies).
For the significance of Chaucer’s satire here, see below, Chapter X. D.
3. Chaucer’s use of the contemporary rhetorical fund is discussed in
Manly’s “Chaucer and the Rhetoricians,” London, 1927 (British Academy,
Warton Lecture on English Poetry XVII, read June, 1926).

[16] See in general Chapter I, and in particular the index. Faral acutely
notes Geoffrey’s mention of Sidonius.

[17] See above, Chapter VI. D. Geoffrey presents Lady Poetry (61)
substantially as Alain presents Lady Rhetoric (_Anticlaudianus_ III. ii,
quoted above, page 174); and Alain tags with the same _colores_ Cicero
and Vergil in two successive lines (I. iv, above, page 174).

[18] Composed in some thousand elegiacs, to which are appended specimens
of various _rhythmi_. The author is called by Faral, to distinguish him
from Évrard de Béthune, Évrard l’allemand.

[19]

Nostra comes fida,

Poesis, 224.

Grammatical famulans subit ingeniosa

Poesis, 253.

[20]

Viribus apta suis pueris ut lectio detur,
Auctores tenero fac ut ab ore legas.

599.

The following titles, which are sometimes given allusively, are indicated
in F.

[21] For this medieval textbook see Hamilton (G. L.) in Modern Philol.
VII (1909), 169-185. The work, which is of the middle of the ninth
century, is assigned by Manitius (I. 570) to Godescalc, as the name
suggests. It is called an eclogue because of the matching of pagan with
Christian instances between Pseustis and Alethia, with final appeal to
Phronesis. John of Salisbury alludes to it, _Metalogicus_, 859 C.

[22] These items appear also in the later schoolbooks known as _Auctores_
(_Autores_, _Actores_) _octo_. The one used at Troyes in 1436 contained:
a Cathonet, a Théodolet, a Facet (_Facetus_), _Carmen de contemptu
mundi_, Matthew’s _Tobias_, Alain’s _Parabolæ_, an Ysopet, and a Fleuret
(_Floretus_), and added Sulpicius of Veroli’s _De moribus puerorum_
(Carré, _L’enseignement secondaire à Troyes ..._ Paris, 1888, page 20).
Cf. Paetow’s ed. of Henri d’Andeli, 16, 37, 53. The same contents, with
some variations of order, appear in two sixteenth-century _Autores_
printed at Lyon. See also Haskins, 131.

[23] For the three styles of ancient rhetoric, see ARP 56, 57-59, 228;
for St. Augustine’s application, above, page 68; for the transfer to
poetic, Geoffrey’s prose treatise II. 145 (F 312), John’s _Rota Virgili_
below, page 192, and Walter of Speier above, page 144.

[24] Bernard Silvester is one more reminder of _dictamen_.

[25] _Ars versificatoria_ II. 43 (F 166).

[26] For instance, the pattern of the _Hora novissima_, below, page 199.

[27] I am unable to follow always the classification in F.

[28] _Dictamen_, however (for which see below, Chapter VIII), is in the
background of all these manuals. The title is _Poetria magistri Johannis
anglici de arte prosayca metrica et rithmica_.

[29] Chapter I.

[30] The numbers refer to the pages of Mari’s edition in Romanische
Forschungen XIII.

[31] Matthew begins with the same topics, but without the perverted
ancient terms.

[32] Reproduced in F. 87. Vergil exemplifies _genus tenue_ in the
_Bucolics_, _medium_ in the _Georgics_, _grande_ in the _Æneid_.

[33] For the ancient _narratio_ see the index to ARP.

[34] See above, page 131.

[35] _Trésor_ III, part I. ii and xxxvii; Chabaille 471 and 518.

[36] See the section on Brunetto Latini, D. 4 of the preceding chapter.
It is noticeable that he too is preoccupied with _dictamen_. For the
elementary exercises _fabula_, _historia_, _argumentum_, see the tabular
view of Quintilian in ARP 64, compare the section on Hermogenes in
Chapter I above, and consult the index to this volume.

[37] Utuntur notarii domini pape, 928. Fierville, in the study mentioned
above, note 2, finds: (1) stilus gallicus seu Aurelianensis, based on
stress (i.e., rhythmic), (2) stilus Tullianus, based on quantities, (3)
stilus romane curie. See below, Chapter VIII, B and C.

[38] Primo dierum, AH 51: 24.

[39] As in Matthew; see note 12 above.

[40] The references are to the pages of Mari’s _Trattati_. One of John’s
own poems (AH 50: 554) ends each stanza with a hexameter taken from
Vergil, Ovid, or Lucan.

[41] As a document also it is interesting both for its examples and, if
the text may be trusted, for some of its terms: “a rithmo qui constat ex
duabus _percussionibus_” (35); “in prosis que cantantur in ecclesia” (42,
the regular twelfth-century use, as for the hymns of Adam of St. Victor);
“frequenter contigit in gallicis consonantiis” (59); “sed in toto ymnario
quo nos utimur nonnisi tres diversitates metri autentice sunt” (60).

[42] For the common derivation of the _colores_ from the _Rhetorica ad
Herennium_ see the valuable tables in F 52-54.

[43] F presents many interesting correspondences, with indications for
further study.

[44] See above, Chapter V, footnote 31.

[45] Part of the interesting collection of Fulbert’s verse in PL 141 is
printed as prose.

[46] The ignoring of the quantity of an unstressed syllable appears in
such rimes as _chórīs_ with _salvatórĭs_, _vītā_ with _levítă_. Every
dissyllable stresses the penult (Alexander de Villedieu, _Doctrinale_,
2299); and the disregard of quantity is even more marked in calling it
indifferently a spondee. See below, Chapter VIII, note 44.

[47] Called also Bernard of Morlaix or Morlas. The poem, some 3000 lines,
is of 1140. It is printed in Wright’s _Anglo-Latin Satirical Poets and
Epigrammatists of the Twelfth Century_, vol. II, London, 1872 (Rolls
Series). A considerable portion, including the familiar parts, is in
Harrington’s _Medieval Latin_, Boston, 1925, pages 315-322. Bernard’s
rime is no less insistent in his _Mariale_, AH 50: 426.

[48] The modern revival of these parts is due largely to John Mason
Neale. His _Rhythm of Bernard de Morlaix, monk of Cluny, on the
celestial country_ gives verse renderings beginning: “The world is very
evil,” “Brief life is here our portion,” “There Jesus shall embrace
us,” “For thee O dear, dear country,” “Jerusalem the golden,” with
the corresponding Latin text (first ed. 1858; seventh, 1865). _Britt_
(170-173) quotes large portions.

[49] As in the musical setting of Horatio Parker.

[50] For an introduction to the Goliardic poetry see the article
_Goliard_ in Encyclopedia Britannica, with its bibliography.

[51] See the _Hymnum dicat turba fratrum_ above, page 120; the seven
Advent antiphons (_O Sapientia_, etc.) known as the seven O’s, and
_symbolism_ in the index.

[52] Lapis, petra, fundamentum, silex, etc., and further, mel de petra,
oleum de saxo, etc.

[53] This is one of the suggestions that Adam seems to have taken from
Hugh of the same community.

Adam’s most frequently recurring symbols are grouped conveniently in
relation to medieval habit by Misset-Aubry, pages 56-110.

[54] The doctrine of transubstantiation was promulgated by Innocent III
at the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215; the feast of Corpus Christi, by
Urban IV in 1264, for the Thursday after Trinity Sunday. The proper hymns
were written by St. Thomas Aquinas: _Lauda, Sion_ for the sequence of the
Mass; _Pange, lingua_ (containing _Tantum ergo_), _Sacris sollemniis_,
_Verbum supernum_ (containing _O salutaris_), for the office; _Adoro te
devote_, for adoration. See AH 50: 583-591; _Britt_, pages 173-192.

[55] ARP 123, 124.

CHAPTER VIII

_DICTAMEN_

REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS

Bornecque Bornecque (H.), _Les clausules métriques latines_,
Lille, 1907, Travaux et mémoires de l’Université de
Lille (for the ancient tradition, but including late
Latin).

Butow Butow (A.), _Die Entwicklung der mittelalt. Briefsteller_,
Greifswald (dissertation), 1908.

Clark Clark (A. C.), _The cursus in medieval and vulgar
Latin_, Oxford, 1910. See also his _Fontes prosæ
numerosæ_, Oxford, 1909.

Clerval (as in headnote to Chapter VI).

Croll Croll (M. W.), _The cadence of English oratorical
prose_, Studies in philology, 16 (1919): 1-55.

Fierville Fierville (C.), _Une grammaire latine inédite du xiiie
siècle_, Paris, 1886.

Gaudenzi Gaudenzi (A.), _Sulla cronologia delle opere dei dettatori
bolognesi da Buoncompagno a Bene di Lucca_,
Bulletino dell’ istituto storico italiano, 14 (1895):
85. See also in Bibliotheca iuridica medii ævi, vol.
II, Bologna, 1892, his _Rainerii de Perusia ars notaria_
(page 25) and _Boncompagni rhetorica novissima_ (page 240).

Hahn Hahn (S. F.), _Collectio monumentorum ..._,
Braunschweig, 1724.

Harmon Harmon (A. M.), _The clausula in Ammianus Marcellinus_,
New Haven, 1910, Conn. Acad. of Arts and Sciences.

Havet Havet (L.), _La prose métrique de Symmache ..._
Paris, 1892.

Langlois Langlois (C. V.), _Formulaires de lettres ..._, six
articles in NE, 34 (parts 1 and 2), 35 (part 2).

Manacorda (as in headnote to Chapter VI).

MGH _Monumenta Germaniæ Historica._

NE _Notices et extraits des manuscrits de la Bibliothèque
Nationale...._

Paetow Paetow (L. J.), _The arts course at medieval universities
with special reference to grammar and rhetoric_,
University of Illinois Studies, vol. 3, No. 7, Jan.,
1910. See also the bibliography in his _Guide to the
study of medieval history_, University of California
Press, 1917.

PL _Patrologia latina_ (Migne) cited by volume and column.

Polheim Polheim (K.), _Die lateinische Reimprosa_, Berlin, 1925.

Poole Poole (R. L.), _Lectures on the history of the Papal
chancery ..._, Cambridge (University Press), 1915.

Rockinger Rockinger (L.), _Briefsteller und Formelbücher ..._,
2 vols., Munich, 1863-1804, Quellen zur bayerisch.
u. deutsch. gesch.

Thurot Thurot (C.), _Notices et extraits ... pour servir à
l’histoire des doctrines grammaticales au moyen âge_,
Paris, 1868, in NE 22, part 2 (entire).

Toynbee Toynbee (P.), _Dantis Alagherii epistolæ ..._ with
introduction, translation, notes, and indices, and
appendix on the _cursus_, Oxford, 1920.

Vacandard Vacandard (E.), _Le cursus, son origine, son histoire,
son emploi dans la liturgie_, Revue des questions
historiques, n. s., 34 (1905): 59-102.

Valois Valois (N.), _De arte scribendi epistolas apud gallicos
medii ævi scriptores rhetoresve_, Paris, 1880, in Bibl.
de l’École des Chartes, 22: 161, 257.

The art of letter-writing, especially the composition of official and
other ceremonious letters, was of cardinal importance in the middle age.
Even to-day, when letters of affairs are facilitated and multiplied by
devices for dictation and despatch, it has a field smaller than the
medieval in proportion to the other means of communication. Since these
conditions lasted into modern times, letter-writing kept its importance
throughout the Renaissance; but its art, developed in Latin antiquity
and keeping for all affairs of moment the Latin language, became in the
middle age a necessary ally alike to law and to diplomacy. _Dictamen_ was
a recognized profession and an habitual means of education. The model for
the official correspondence of the western world was the Papal Chancery.
The chief center of teaching was Bologna.[1] Though there was rivalry at
Orléans, there was a recognized primacy of _stilus Romanus_.

No medieval form of writing has come down to us more abundantly in
manuscripts; and none is more abundantly available in print. In addition
to the collections of letters by famous men, or included with them, are
many form-letters preserved as models.[2] Medieval epistolary habits
are thus amply exemplified as the most widespread applications of the
study of style. As a fine art medieval diplomatic correspondence is seen
at its finest in the letters of John of Salisbury. The expertness that
illuminated even routine affairs and determined the direction of great
ones was recognized in his own day. The Archbishop of Rheims, writing to
the Pope concerning the exile of the Archbishop of Canterbury, leaves the
form of his letter to John.[3] At an earlier crisis of that exile, when
Becket cried out against Henry’s influence at Rome, the indignation of
the great prelate was submitted to the great secretary; and he was too
faithful a friend to forget his art.

On reading the letter that you have decided to send to the lord
William of Pavia, though I dare not judge its intention, I
cannot approve its literary conception.... If the items of your
letter are thus brought up one by one, your reply will seem to
have proceeded rather from bitterness and rancor than from the
singleness of charity. _Ep._ 220; PL 199: 246.

Having shown a list of grievances to be ineffective as composition,
he adds immediately that accusations are dangerous as style. But not
stopping with criticism, he took the great hazard upon himself in the
following letter to the same Cardinal.

Popular rumor reports to us that you and the lord Otto,
Cardinal Deacon of the Holy Roman Church, invited by our
illustrious lord the King of the English, and commissioned by
Papal mandate, are come down to the Aquitanian country, with
the help of God by your best endeavor to restore to the English
Church its inalienable freedom, and to renew peace and concord
between the king and the archbishop. By princes, yea, and even
by prelates, it has been heard that our aforesaid lord the king
so trusts your devotion that his acceptance of your advice in
every particular is a foregone conclusion: in my exceeding
joy whereat, I have decided that I too should ask advice of
you and assistance, ready in all things to obey you, saving
my freedom of conscience and my personal honor. For I trust
in the Lord that with you consideration of personages and of
rewards will not be so influential that by any of your actions
the Church shall be injured, scandal be engendered in lay folk,
or your bright reputation be darkened. These, indeed, are the
works of men by whom either the law is unknown or its Author
is disregarded. Not such are you, whose good faith and whose
prudence the Lord has so honored with his approval that you
are set before the world upon the golden candlestick of seven
lamps as a lantern and as a beacon, that yours may be the light
for all men that enter. On you, therefore, all men are fixing
their observation; and many fear lest the temptation of Lucifer
should end in extinction and in ruin, lest the intimacy with
the king, which they say you have lately been cementing, be to
you beginning of dereliction. And indeed,

Sin will be judged by intent; but its crime becomes greater
and greater
Strictly with every degree of the criminal’s office and
station.

(Juvenal, III. viii. 140.)

But in the meantime I am hopeful that this intimacy between you
and the king, which to many is so suspect, will be fruitful to
the Church, necessary to us, salutary to him, to you a further
glory. For if he gives you obedience where even legal necessity
binds him, and where any evasion would be at the risk of his
salvation, without doubt he will be repentant, will confess his
transgression, and humbly giving the Church satisfaction, will
restore to us all peace and freedom with our stolen integrity,
and will tear quite out of his heart the hate of his brethren.
Otherwise what power is able to save him from the snare of the
devil?

I am most certain, since it is indubitably true and even most
obvious, that not even Peter himself received of the Lord such
plenitude of commission that he could absolve the impenitent;
and it no less certainly follows that if stolen goods can be
restored and are not restored, the move is not penitence, but
stratagem. Where, therefore, the prince of the apostles has
restricted authority, no argument will convince me that power
can be validly exercised by any man whatsoever. I admit, for
it is true, that our lord the king, as a prince among the
most glorious, is most highly to be considered, but with the
condition that God be never offended. Otherwise arises a form
of idolatry, when on whatsoever pretext of expediency the
creature is put above the Creator, as we are taught by Paul
the apostle. Wrongs are not to be done that good things may
issue; nor may any right of dispensation counter the Lord’s
commandment, which in law or in gospel has always the final
ruling.

As for me, that you may the more conveniently advise me, that
the cry of the poor man may be admitted to have its hearing,
exile for me has now passed its fourth year; notwithstanding
my lord the king, by me and through others, has often been
notified that, though at the bar of my conscience I have not
deserved his anger, yet to regain his favor I would gladly
perform whatever might please him, saving my conscience and
the integrity of my honor. Certain intermediaries, indeed,
have approached me, suggesting that I withdraw my fidelity and
devotion from the lord Archbishop of Canterbury, and swear
fidelity to the king and observance of the laws of the kingdom.
Because I cannot do this, and will not, for it is against my
conscience and my honor, proscribed as an exile, I shall be
gladly an exile till God shall deliver me. Am I to break my
obligation of obedience when the Church is in danger, and God
in the trial? Father and suzerain deserted, am I to swear to
laws disapproved by the canons, when our lord the Pope in
council at Sens with the brethren, with yourselves, I imagine,
in audience, has denounced them? Nay, I would not swear that I
had kept all the canons, or even all the gospel, since, as the
apostle sadly reminds us, in much we have all been offenders.
A lesser wickedness is simple prevarication than prevarication
that is loaded with perjury. Well I know that perjury,
disobedience, or any other baseness whatsoever, no one dare
impute to your Lordships.

But since I fear you may weary of my wordiness, my words shall
reach their conclusion, a fervent prayer that you may be
zealous to end the misery of a Church too long in danger of
foundering, and to defend us from the assaults of unremitting
injustices.

May my lord fare well, and upon the proscripts of Christ may he
have mercy. For I am interceding in the name of all my fellows
in exile; and if I fail of my consolation, none the less I
shall hold myself paid by whatever I know the other proscripts
of Christ to have through your offices. _Ep._ 221; PL 199:
247.[4]

Medieval letters, long studied for history, should be better known as
literature.

Less available, though for our purposes more directly important, are the
manuals. Called generically _ars dictaminis_ (or _dictandi_), or _summa
dictaminis_, they are sometimes brief introductions to the formularies,
sometimes substantial and detailed separate works. The latter have much
less often than the formularies been printed. The ampler manuals apply to
letter-writing a review of both grammar and rhetoric. This is instructive
in Conrad’s _Summa de arte prosandi_.[5] The _Boncompagnus_,[6] so
widely used that Boncompagno’s name, like Donatus, became a common noun,
is amplified rather by diffuseness and by abundance of specimens. The
_Rhetorica novissima_[7] of the same author is at once over-divided
and ill-digested. Equally diffuse and equally relying on specimens, it
appeals to students of law by deliberate and often inept variations from
the traditional lore of rhetoric. The vogue of Thomas of Capua is hardly
explained by the meager printed text of his _Dictator_.[8] None of these
is at once so ample and so specific as a work by a Florentine of the
Bolognese school, perhaps Bene of Florence, entitled _Candelabrum_.[9]

A. THE RHETORIC OF _DICTAMEN_

The international affairs of the Roman Curia demanded and developed
professional _notarii_.[10] Their first and abiding concern was
precision. Legal correctness of language, exactitude, systematic
verification and record, precaution against tampering and forgery, all
demanded an elaborate technical skill. This was _ars notaria_ in the
stricter sense, an important branch of the practise of law, especially
of canon law.[11] Beyond legal correctness and dignity it developed
style befitting Rome. Privileges,[12] decrees, mandates, dispensations,
commissions, and other forms observed exact appropriateness and rhythms
that were at once marks of authenticity and models. The same care
extended to diplomatic correspondence. The documents in both fields, a
mine for students of medieval history, amply attest the importance of
_dictamen_ as a profession.[13]

So wide a demand would of itself have maintained schools of professional
technic. But since the technic demanded preliminary general training,
it became a development of _rhetorica_. Not only so; it divided with
preaching the whole field of daily prose composition. In current
application oral composition was preaching, written composition was
_dictamen_. The two were the typical medieval fields for the ancient
lore of persuasion. The manuals of _dictamen_ often begin by defining
it in the general sense of writing.[14] Dividing all writing into (1)
_metricum_, the ancient quantitative verse still taught as a branch
of _grammatica_, (2) _rithmicum_, the accentual rimed verse of the
hymns, and (3) _prosaicum_, they confine themselves to the third, and
make it equivalent to letter-writing (_prosaicum vel epistolare_). To
this they apply the current ancient authorities, _De inventione_ and
_Ad Herennium_, adding for its maxims of aptness _Ars poetica_. The
ampler manuals include the sacred list of figures obligatory in the
_poetriæ_.[15] Otherwise the application of the ancient rhetoric is
practical and pointed.

For in fact the ancient lore was immediately and practically applicable.
It did not, as in the _poetriæ_, have to be perverted. Of the
traditional five parts of ancient rhetoric, _inventio_, _dispositio_,
and _elocutio_, though not _pronuntiatio_ and _memoria_, bear directly
on letters, whereas the first two have nothing properly to do with
verse-writing. _Elocutio_ is applied practically by being focused on the
cardinal ancient virtue of appropriateness; artistically, by elaborating
_compositio_ as prose rhythm. Immediately adaptable were the five
parts of a speech. The _exordium_ is always cardinal in a letter as
_benevolentiæ captatio_. _Narratio_ applies exactly in its proper sense
of statement of the facts. _Petitio_, though it has less scope, is quite
pertinent. _Conclusio_, though varying most from its ancient function,
has some general correspondence. In a word, the classical doctrine for
the parts of a speech applied to a letter by mere reduction of scale.

_Dictamen_ was equally practical in actual teaching. Besides giving
exercises in correctness, it compelled attention to elegance. Its
study of appropriateness was readily extended by such imaginary
adaptations as were inculcated in the ancient _prosopopœia_, and thus
provided in writing the kind of practise sought orally in the ancient
_controversiæ_.[16] John of Garlandia’s confused combination of verse and
prose in a single manual[17] is insufficient to prove that the two were
often taught concurrently; and the higher tone of the _artes dictandi_
suggests that they were addressed to older pupils.

B. DIGEST OF _CANDELABRUM_ I-V[18]

Book I. Choice of Words, Rhythmical Composition of Sentences

_Dictamen_ is defined with the usual inclusiveness as apt and elegant
writing, inseparable from subject matter, depending on native ability,
teaching, and practise, using to some extent all five traditional parts
of rhetoric, but mainly style (_elocutio_).

Exercising in all three styles (_humilis_, _mediocris_,
_sublimis_),[19] it must beware of the corresponding
vices: aridity, looseness, inflation. Its three requisites
are choiceness of diction (_elegantia_), sentence skill
(_compositio_), and dignity (_dignitas_, _ornatus_).
Choiceness, or elegance, includes both purity (_latinitas_,
the avoidance of barbarisms and solecisms, and, more widely,
exactness of syntax) and lucidity (_explanatio_, including such
figures as are illustrative).

All the rest of Book I is devoted to _compositio_ as rhythm.

“_Compositio_ is order polished smooth (_ordinatio verborum
equabiliter perpolita_). If, therefore, we wish to give
discourse this charm, we must so change the natural order
that speech may have a _cursus_[20] charming and smooth and
that we may not seem to talk vulgarly. _Compositio_ seems
to be threefold: natural, casual (_fortuita_), and apt [i.e.,
adjusted, called below artistic]. The natural, proper to
expositors, reduces the artistry of discourse to the natural
order. Even in this the _dictator_ must give most careful
attention to elegance.... If following the natural order
does not give elegance, that superficial _compositio_ is
inadmissible. Casual may be called that which, regarding only
elegance, arranges words not artistically, but with simple
freedom. It is observed in manuals and in the Scriptures,
and commended by holy men; for, as says the apostle, ‘the
kingdom of God consists not in word, but in work and power’
[1 Cor. 4. 20]. Further a certain sage says: ‘the simple word
is the guardian of our faith’. That _compositio_ is artistic
(_artificialis_) which gives the sentence charm by harmonizing
its words in equable arrangement. But this is observed in one
way at Orléans, in another by the fount of Latinity, Cicero, in
another by the Apostolic See. For the Orléans arrangement is by
imaginary dactyls and spondees; the Ciceronian tradition, by
the artistry of the several feet—a style therefore absolutely
dependent on the laws of metric. We, however, shall proceed
according to the authority of the Roman Curia, because every
one finds its style simpler.”

Considering the positions of nominatives and of oblique cases, of
relative clauses, of infinitives, of locutions fixed in certain places by
usage, the author quotes Geoffroi de Vinsauf: “A noble gravity comes from
order itself when what is joined by syntax is separated by order.”[21]
A word ending in a consonant should be followed by one beginning with a
vowel, and _vice versa_. The _cursus_ should not be continuously swift or
slow but varied:

E.g., neither _animo simplici colitur dominus_, nor
_simplicitate cordiali dominator summus perfecte veneratur_,
but _simplicitate animi perfecte dominus veneratur_.

So the _dictator_ will add, subtract, or transpose.

E.g., _Vestra amicitia presentium tenore cognoscat_ is
relieved by transposing the first two words.

He will consider the rhythms of terminations:[22]

of adjectives in _-ivus_, _-aris_, _-alis_, _-osus_, _-orus_,
_-ensis_, _-atus_ [stressed on the penult], against those in
_-icus_ and _-eus_ [stressed on the antepenult]; of verbs,
e.g., _nobilitat et coronat_, noticing that participles are
available oftener than gerunds.

The rule for cadences (_de finibus distinctionum_) is that they must
satisfy.

“The _cursus_ must not be held up by a crowded or stinted
close. Clauses (_distinctiones_) should therefore end on
polysyllables, that the whole _cursus_ may be forwarded by the
sentence-closes. For style limps and is involved in delay if
the end is suffocated by the crowding of contracted speech....
Neither monosyllables nor words of more than four syllables are
in place at the end.” The rule is then exemplified in detail.

These considerations open the large principle, fundamental in ancient
rhetoric and clearly discerned by this writer, that sentence skill
consists in composing rhythmical units in a total movement, i.e., in
composing by heard clauses.

“We have spoken often of _distinctiones_ since no discourse
can please that is indistinct.... A _distinctio_, then, is an
integral member of one sentence,[23] weaving its words in apt
order and releasing its thoughts from any tangle of doubt....
There are three kinds: ... [1] _dependens_ [later styled by its
ancient name _comma_, or _cæsum_], [2] _constans_ [a statement
complete in itself, but carrying on, _colum_, _membrum_, also
called _distinctio media_], [3] _finitiva_, that _distinctio_
in which the whole sentence is finished (_totalis clausula
terminatur_), called by the Greeks _periodus_, i.e.,
_circuitus_, or _finalis_.”[24]

In punctuation the author prefers the simple and sparing Roman use, and
deprecates applying to _dictamen_ the rules followed in pointing the
religious offices.[25]

The final consideration of this section is of sentence length. Book I
closes with general advice.

“Let the _dictator_ be so attentive in weaving his series
of sentences as not to obstruct his auditor’s ears with
burdensome words, nor to induce prolixity; but by aptness, as
well of words as of thought, let all seem to proceed so easily
(_expedite_) that each has its place as chosen fitly.”

Book II. Figures

The second book, on stylistic ornament (_ornatus_, _dignitas_) is devoted
to the traditional figures. These are the same list from the _Rhetorica
ad Herennium_ as serves for the _poetriæ_, and are rehearsed in the same
order.

The author even excuses himself for not providing new examples.
The book closes with three lists of vices in sense or sound:
(1) achirologia, etc., as in Alexandre de Villedieu; (2)
_repetitio_, etc., as in _ad Herennium_; (3) six derived from
_Ars poetica_.

Book III. _Salutatio_

The three kinds of _dictamen_ are: (1) prose, i.e., free composition
(_sermo communis_, or _solutus_); (2) metrical; (3) rhythmical (_genus
rithmicum_), which observes syllabic equality and rime.[26] “Since we
have nothing, however, to do with the two others, ... let us now proceed
to the prose _dictamen_, the _dictamen_ of letters; for that is demanded
of all and recognized as of great utility. It increases eloquence,
promotes favor, enlarges honors, and often enriches the needy.” The
typical parts of a letter—there may be more, or fewer—are _salutatio_,
_exordium_, _petitio_, _conclusio_. This whole book is devoted to
prescriptions for the first. The _salutatio_ must always be in the third
person. Its order is determined by the relation of the rank or dignity
of the sender to that of the recipient, though this in certain cases is
waived. It is careful of titles and of their appropriate modifiers.

The use of _Dei gratia_ with a title is determined
specifically. “The main consideration, however, in any
_salutatio_ is who is writing to whom; for there must always
be made an adjustment of the one to the other (_collatio
personarum_). The Pope thus salutes the Emperor: ‘_dilecto
filio F. romanorum imperatori et semper augusto_’.... The
Emperor calls the Pope ‘_sanctissimum in Christo patrem_.’” So
on down the list of dignities and occupations[27] the author
specifies what is correct, or suggests what is appropriate, in
noun and modifier, and answers certain questions of syntax.

The book closes with a protest. Merely to consult a formulary is a poor
substitute for studying the art of _salutatio_. It is like swimming with
corks. “The ideal (_forma_) of _salutatio_ which we have here worked out,
well grasped and held, will save writers both from borrowed plumage and
from deficiency.”

Book IV. _Exordium, Narratio, Petitio, Conclusio_

The _exordium_ is such a prelude to the statement of the facts as will
make the hearer[28] open-minded, well disposed, and attentive.

The reader’s sympathy is engaged by the writer’s reference
to himself, to his opponent,[29] to his reader, or to the
occasion. According to the nature of the subject, the
_exordium_ may be either direct (_principium_) or indirect
(_insinuatio_). Its diction must be fluent, correct, unstudied,
i.e., it must avoid harshness, deviation from recognized
usage, and pomp.[30] Especially must the writer avoid any
language that can be turned against him. To begin with a
proverb, though this is advised by some authors,[31] is to
deviate the _exordium_ from its proper function.

_Narratio_, statement of the facts,[32] should be concise, transparently
clear, and plausible (_brevis_, _dilucida_, _verisimilis_). The
application of the ancient maxim is to the connection of _narratio_
with _exordium_ by proper conjunctions and in several possible cases.
Similarly are set forth the ways of connecting it with the following
_petitio_, which is summarily defined. _Conclusio_ in a letter is not, as
in a speech, the logical result of proof. Rather it is the satisfaction
of whatever expectations have been aroused. It may be affirmative,
negative, or conditional, so long as it is a satisfying close. Modes of
connecting it with the rest of the letter again have most space.

Book V. Summary Review of the Preceding Books

The fifth book, reviewing all these items in the same order, constitutes
a summary manual, a _summa dictaminis_.

“Since I know that some will find the multiplicity of the
preceding burdensome, let the multiplicity be reduced in this
book to paucity in consideration for the unlettered (_rudium_).
Thus, as for those who rejoice in abundance I have displayed
letters both various and adequate, so for the many of weaker
stomach who wish to be fed on light diet I ought to set forth
food at once moderate and proper (_honestum_).” The author then
proceeds seriatim with a digest.

This book by itself provides about the same quantity of precept as
suffices in other manuals to introduce collections of specimens; but it
is exceptionally systematic.[33]

C. _CURSUS_

In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the practise of _cursus_ became
more technical, and the use of the term more special. The Chancellor
appointed by Pope Urban II was John of Gaetà (Giovanni Gaetano), who
had learned _dictamen_ from Alberic of Monte Cassino,[34] and who was
specifically commissioned to “reform the style of ancient grace and
elegance in the Apostolic See” and to “restore the Leonine rhythm with
its lucid rapidity.”[35] The dominant chancery style, thus reformed,
embodied the principle of rhythmical close in three types of prose
cadence:

(1) _cursus planus_, víncla perfrégit;
(2) _cursus tardus_, víncla perfrégerat;
(3) _cursus velox_, vínculum frègerámus.[36]

The first sentence of a mandate of Innocent III shows all three.

Inter omnes munitiónes et cástra (_planus_)
quæ Romana ténet ecclésia (_tardus_)
munitionem et castrum Montis Fiasconis non solum inténdit sed
cúpit (_planus_)
et providéntius gùbernári (_velox_)
et studiósius cùstodíri (_velox_).[37]

The indignant closing paragraph of Dante’s letter to the Florentines
begins:

O miserrima Fæsulanórum propágo (_planus_),
et iterum iam puníta barbáries (_tardus_)!
An parum timoris prælibáta incútiunt (_tardus_)?
Omnino vos tremere árbitror vìgilántes (_velox_),
Quamquam spem simuletis in facie verbóque mendáci (_planus_),
atque in somniis expergísci plerúmque (_planus_),
sive pavescentes infúsa præságia (_tardus_),
sive diurna consília rècoléntes (_velox_).[38]

The fixing of these three cadences in Roman use would of itself have
given them a vogue beyond letter-writing. Moreover they were chosen not
at random, but as typical fulfilments of rhythmical expectation. For they
appear also, though not exclusively, in the collects of the liturgy and
in the daily offices.[39] The collect for the fourth Sunday after the
Epiphany has all three.

Deus qui nos in tantis perículis cònstitútos (_vel._) pro
humana scis fragilitate non pósse subsístere (_tard._) da nóbis
salútem (_plan._) méntis et córporis (_tard._) ut ea quæ pro
peccatis nostris patimur (not conformed) te adjuvánte vincámus
(_plan._).[40]

The longer measures of the collect composed in 1264 by St. Thomas Aquinas
for Corpus Christi fall upon _velox_.

Deus, qui nobis sub sacramento mirabili passionis tuæ memóriam
rèliquísti, tribue, quæsumus, ita nos corporis et sanguinis tui
sacra mystéria vènerári ut redemptionis tuæ fructum in nobis
júgiter sèntiámus.

The English translation, following this cadence in the first measure and
the third, departs in the second.

O God, who in this wonderful sacrament hast left us a memórial
of thy pássion, grant us, we beseech thee, so to venerate
the sacred mysteries of thy body and blood [not conformed]
that we may ever perceive within ourselves the frúit of thy
redémption.[41]

Hearing these cadences over and over, preachers of course used them often
in Latin sermons. Thus the cadences that were obligatory in ceremonious
letters, and habitual in other use, confirmed the conception and
practise of Latin prose as rhythmical.

The rhythmical conception of prose, as the middle age knew well, had been
dominant in classical antiquity. But medieval Latin prose, though its
tradition came through the schools of Gaul, had had its own development.
As in verse,[42] so in prose, the shift of rhythmical control to stress
opened, not a breach, but a new artistic life. Medieval Latin ran as a
living language with the movement of living speech. This was recognized
even by the grammarians.[43] So the thirteenth-century manuals of
_dictamen_ kept the terminology of ancient metric to describe accentual
rhythms[44] because Latin to them was present as well as past, and
seemed to reach indefinitely into the future. The future, by the time
of the Renaissance, was seen to be with the vernacular for poetry. More
slowly it was seen to be there also for prose. Meantime Latin poetic and
rhetoric came to be studied by revival of antiquity. Revival translates
Renaissance exactly. Italian scholars, and after them French and
English, sought to turn Latin prose back to Cicero. Though they thus
accomplished some most worthy ends, their theory and their practise
interrupted Latin prose composition. Their contemptuous rejection of
medieval rhythms hastened the processes by which Latin became a “dead”
language. In the middle age it was living. A conspicuous evidence of its
vitality, not merely a legal technic, but the formulation of a rhythmical
habit, was the _cursus_.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Thurot, 91, 114 (note 2), 483 (note 1). Thurot finds Orléans more in
touch with Italy than with its own part of France.

[2] Several of the collection by Pierre de Blois in PL 207 seem to
be form-letters; and this is the main intention in the tenth-century
_Collectio Sangallensis_, MHG, Legum Sectio V, Formulæ, pages 390-433.
See Clerval, 114, on the letters of Fulbert in Bibl. Nat. MS 14167;
311-313, on Pierre de Blois, Étienne de Tournay, and John of Salisbury.

[3] Scribit Remensis archiepiscopus pro causa nostra domino Papæ,
præcipiens litteras suas ad meum formari arbitrium. _Ep._ 286; PL, 199:
326.

[4] _Ep._ 223, page 389, in the collection of the letters of Gerbert,
John of Salisbury, and Stephen of Tournay printed by Ruette, Paris, 1611.
Both texts, omitting the _salutatio_, have the simple heading _Guillelmo
Papiensi_. PL dates the letter 1167.

[5] Rockinger, I. 405-482.

[6] See Gaudenzi, who also edits it in _Bibliotheca iuridica_, I. It is
printed in part by Rockinger, I. 121-174.

[7] Edited by Gaudenzi in _Bibliotheca iuridica_, II.

[8] Hahn, I. 279-385; composed mainly of specimens. For Guido Fava and
Bene di Lucca, see Gaudenzi.

[9] Described from MS Bibl. Nat. fonds St. Victor, 906, and several
times quoted, by Thurot, 414, 415, 483, 484, 485; mentioned by Clark.
Manacorda, II. 266, citing Gaudenzi, says it is by Bene of Florence.

The _Candelabrum_ is digested below, section B. 1.

[10] The term was more special than _dictator_, which meant more
generally a master in the art of prose; but Boncompagno, perhaps
because of his legal bent, uses the two side by side in his _Rhetorica
novissima_: “Dictator, prout hodie sumitur, est ille qui oratorum dicta
legit et repetit, et repetita variat et componit.... Dictatoris officium
est materias sibi exhibitas vel a se aliquando inventas congruo latino
et appositione ornare: tales namque interdum notarii appellantur.” Bibl.
iurid. II. 257.

[11] Under the title _Rhetorica ecclesiastica_ this is studied for
the twelfth century by Emil Ott in Sitzungsberichte der K. Akad. der
Wissenschaften, philosophisch-historische Klasse 125 (1891-1892),
Abhandl. 8: pages 1-118, Vienna, 1892; and in the series edited by
Dr. Ludwig Wahrmund with the sub-title Quellen zur Geschichte des
römischcanonistischen Processes im Mittelalter, Innsbruck, vol. I, 1906.

[12] E.g., the _privilegia_ of Urban III (1185) and of Gregory VIII
(1187) in PL 202.

[13] Poole provides the best English introduction to this study.

[14] E.g., Alberic in Rockinger, I. 9. Ermini finds it used in the tenth
century to mean _devoir_, or theme, “specimen eruditionis,” “lavoro
scolastico,” _Poeti epici latini del secolo x_, 70, 109.

[15] E.g., _Candelabrum_, as also Conrad in Rockinger, I. 442. For the
_poetriæ_, see above, Chapter VII. B.

[16] For _prosopopœia_ and _controversia_ see the index to ARP.

[17] See above, page 191.

[18] Made from the Plimpton MS.

[19] For the three styles, see the indexes to ARP and to this volume.

[20] Cursus is used in this general sense by the thirteenth-century
grammar edited by Fierville (119), which also applies to compositio
the phrase equabiliter perpolita (116). Rhet. ad Heren. has æqualiter
perpolita.

For cursus in its special sense, see below, section C.

[21] _Poetria nova_ 1051-1060 is quoted here with some variations from
Faral’s text. The _Candelabrum_ is therefore posterior to 1208-1213.

[22] Cf. Matthieu de Vendôme, II., section 13 seq.; Faral, 155 seq.

[23] “_Unius clausule integrum membrum._” _Clausula_ is consistently
used to mean what we now call a sentence. It is so defined below (folio
6): “De clausulis quoque sequitur ut agamus, quoniam ex distinctionibus
clausule compinguntur. Clausula igitur est plurium distinctionum
continuatio ambitum perfectum sententie comprehendens.” The author
adds that it is otherwise used _abusive_. His definition agrees with
Fierville, 119.

[24] Alberic (Rockinger, I. 25) has the same threefold division, but
calls [1] _suspensiva_, and says that it ends _acuto accentu_. Conrad
(Rockinger, I. 443) follows Alberic’s terms, and quotes (444-445)
Alexander de Villedieu’s _Doctrinale_, 2348-2358. The _Candelabrum_
grasps clearly the ancient conception of a period as a sentence
rhythmically composed and rhythmically completed.

[25] The technical significances of this section cannot safely be
suggested by translation. The available terms of modern English, if not
misleading, would be at least prejudicial to an interesting inquiry. A
considerable part of the original is printed by Thurot, 415: “De punctis
... et modo punctandi,” etc.

[26] “Quod paritatem sillabarum et similem consonantiam sine ulla
temporis consideratione observat.” The example is the hymn _Ave, Maria,
salvatoris_. There is added, by way of caveat, the different ancient
definition of _rhythmus_; but the medieval use is vindicated “ad
delectationem et quandam mollitiem; quoque ad dignitatem....” So Conrad:
“Rithmicum observat tantummodo certum numerum sillabarum, distinguendo
clausulas versiculorum in quadam finali concinnantia.” Rockinger, I. 419.

[27] Cf. Conrad’s list headed _Diversitas personarum_. Rockinger, I. 425
seq.

[28] The ancient term _auditor_ is kept, as well as the traditional three
functions. The second function being cardinal in a letter, _benevolentiæ
captatio_ in some manuals, e.g., Alberic’s (Rockinger, I. 18), is used
as the heading, instead of _exordium_. In others, as, here, it is a
subheading. The doctrine here is from _Rhet. ad Herennium_ I.

[29] Reference to the opponent is kept from ancient rhetoric, though
often inapplicable in a letter. But see the opening of John of
Salisbury’s letter at the beginning of this Chapter.

[30] The ancient counsel against pomp in the _exordium_, though repeated,
seems to have been less regarded than the others.

[31] E.g., by Geoffroi de Vinsauf, _Poetria nova_, 126-133 (Faral, 201);
Guido Fava (Rockinger, I. 185; Gaudenzi, 129).

[32] The term is said to be more inclusive. “Narrationum genera tria
sunt: oratorium, digressorium, et poeticum.” _Digressorium_ probably
refers to the _digressio_ for which a place in the speech was provided
by ancient rhetoric after the division (see ARP, 65). _Poeticum_ is of
course divided into _historia_, _fabula_, _argumentum_ (for which see the
index). The author makes no use of this, or of the whole division, which
indeed is inapplicable to a letter; but it seems to have troubled him,
as it troubled the _poetriæ_ (see above, page 193). Quintilian’s clear
distinction seems to have escaped them: “Et historiæ, quæ currere debet
ac ferri, minus convenissent insistentes clausulæ,” etc., IX. iv.

[33] At this point the author turns from Roman use to French, beginning
Book VI with a new set of definitions.

[34] Alberic’s _Rationes dictandi_ are printed in Rockinger, I. 9-28, and
are followed by _Albericus de dictamine_, 29-46.

[35] _Liber pontificalis_, 162, vol. II. 311, as translated by Poole (84)
in context. The Chancellor was afterward (1118-1119) Pope Gelasius II.

[36] The key phrases are Clark’s (10), repeated by Poole (90). The
grave accent in the last indicates that at this point there is often a
secondary, lighter stress.

_Tardus_ is called _ecclesiasticus_ in a thirteenth-century work quoted
by Thurot, 482.

A fourth form, _trispondiacus_ (Vacandard, 72, 89), is regarded by Croll
(2) as a modification of _velox_.

For correctness of cadence as a mark of authenticity see the passage from
Pierre de Blois quoted by Langlois, NE 34, part 2: 26.

The best English summary of the technic of _cursus_ is Poole, Chapter
IV, which also reviews Valois, Havet, W. Meyer, and Clark. The best
indication of the significance of _cursus_ is Croll; for though this
essay is directed to a later period, it reviews medieval habit and
through English examples exhibits the influence of _cursus_ in the
development of vernacular prose rhythm.

[37] _Reg._ VI. 105, June 30, 1203, as quoted and pointed by Poole (97),
who thus prints the whole mandate.

[38] _Ep._ VI. 6; Toynbee, 75; pointed by Clark, 20. Both record W.
Meyer’s emendation for _cursus_, _puníta_ (for _Púnica_, a former corrupt
reading). The _cursus_ in John of Salisbury’s _Ep._ 221 are followed
in the translation above, page 209. The text begins as follows: “Fáma
vulgánte (_plan._) didicimus vos et dominum Ottonem sanctæ Romanæ
Ecclesiæ diáconum càrdinálem (_vel._) ad preces illustris domini nostri
regis Anglórum (_plan._) ex mandato dómini pápæ (_plan._) in partes
Aquitániæ dèscendísse (_vel._) ut auctore Deo, si fieri potest, Anglicanæ
Ecclesiæ debitam reddatis libertatem (not conformed) et inter dominum
regem et Cantuariensem archiepiscopum pacem et concórdiam rèformétis
(_vel._). A magnis etiam et a venerabilibus víris audítum est (_tard._)
quod præfatus dominus noster rex adeo de amore véstro confídit (_plan._)
ut consilio vestro in omnibus obtemperáre decréverit” (_tard._).

[39] For this see Vacandard’s historical review.

[40] Pointed by Croll (27), who compares the English versions of this and
of other collects in the Book of Common Prayer.

[41] If the second measure could have ended on _mýsteries of thy bódy_,
it would have conformed.

[42] See above, Chapter IV. C.

[43] See above, pages 111, 184.

[44] _Candelabrum_, describing French interpretation of prose rhythms
by metrical terms, says: “Nor do they consider those feet according
to shortness or length, but according to number of syllables and
word-habit.” The whole passage is quoted by Thurot (484), who notes
its correspondence to Maître Guillaume (quoted at 481): “The feet used
in verse are three, dactyl, spondee, trochee. In _dictamen_, however,
we use two, spondee and dactyl. Nor are the feet to be measured by
length and shortness, but by the run (_cursus_) of the words. For every
dissyllable, whether long or short, is a spondee; and a trisyllable
with a short penult is a dactyl.” Ponce (quoted also at 481) lays down
the same principle. The _cursus_, that is, was determined by the number
of unstressed syllables between word-accents. The old terminology
of quantitative metric was kept, partly because it was conveniently
familiar, partly because the new rhythms were legitimate descendants of
the old. But the abeyance of quantity could not be more clearly indicated
than by the dictators’ habit of calling every dissyllable a spondee.

CHAPTER IX

PREACHING

REFERENCES AND ABBREVIATIONS

Bourgain Bourgain (l’Abbé L.), _La chaire française au xiie
siècle_ d’après les manuscrits, Paris, 1879.

Clerval (see the list for Chapter VI).

Cruel Cruel (R.), _Geschichte der deutschen Predigt im
Mittelalter_, Detmold, 1879.

Douais Douais (C.), _Essai sur l’organisation des études dans
l’Ordre des Frères Prêcheurs au xiiie et au xive siècle_
(1216-1342). Prèmiere province de Provence. Province
de Toulouse, avec de nombreux textes inédits.
Toulouse & Paris, 1884.

LM Lecoy de la Marche (A.), _La chaire française au
moyen âge_, spécialement au xiiie siècle, d’après les
manuscrits contemporains, Paris, 1886 (2nd edition).

Owst Owst (G. R.), _Preaching in medieval England_, an
introduction to sermon manuscripts of the period c.
1350-1450, Cambridge, 1926.

PL _Patrologia latina_ (Migne), cited by volume and column.

Perdrizet Perdrizet (Paul), _Étude sur le Speculum humanæ
salvationis_, Paris (thèse), 1908.

Polheim Polheim (Karl), _Die lateinische Reimprosa_, Berlin, 1925.

The historian of twelfth-century preaching finds the “prodigious
success”[1] of St. Anselm’s sermon on the Assumption not even faintly
echoed in the flat record. The same disappointment awaits any one who
shall turn from the fame of John Bunyan’s preaching to his printed
sermons. In both cases the reputation is more convincing than the record.
The testimony leaves no doubt that the preacher was eloquent; but his
eloquence has not been preserved. The seventeenth-century record and the
medieval, though in different directions, are alike insufficient.[2]
Even when we have on the page before us the very sentences—and often
we have something less, or even something different, we lack something
of the eloquence. For the difficulty of transmission is so fundamental
that it thwarts even the records of our own day. Oratory is typically
the energizing of a message by a speaker for a specific audience. Its
style depends on all three. In varying degrees all three enter into its
composition. The occasion becomes part of the message. Between speaker
and audience there is mutual response. Therefore of all the arts oratory
is the most perishable.

But the history of oratory, though often baffling, is not hopeless. So
perishable that it can never be quite recaptured, oratory may be so
charged that even through imperfect record much often transpires. For any
given period its records not only reveal much of the habit of the time,
but conversely can often be so interpreted by that habit as to become
really significant. Medieval sermons can thus be related not only to the
medieval pedagogy of rhetoric, but to actual habits of composition and of
style. In a form of oratory continuous for nearly two thousand years they
will show at least what in preparation, composition, utterance, record is
typically medieval.

For the middle age preaching is the characteristic form of oratory.
Political oratory being in abeyance, legal oratory having little scope,
preaching practically monopolizes the third field distinguished by
Aristotle, occasional oratory, the oratory of here and now. Teaching,
clearly of course a sermon function, sometimes becomes the main object;
but even so it is not incompatible with other oratorical use of the
occasion. Indeed, a sermon hardly succeeds as teaching except through
the typical means of occasional oratory. For a sermon is different from
a lesson, and even more different from an essay. As a form of oral
composition it has opportunities and methods distinct from those of the
bar or the senate. Occasional oratory, always beset by temptations toward
sophistic,[3] has always opened on the other hand the highest ranges. In
preaching, the safeguard against sophistic is in the distinctive use of
the occasion to move men to action. Always emotional, occasional oratory
becomes in preaching a distinct form of persuasion. Relying less than
political oratory on argument, reasoning less and pleading more, it is
even more urgent toward a goal. This character, achievement alike and
misuse, is vivid in the medieval preaching of the friars.

Medieval preaching is occasional oratory not only in the ancient
application to special solemnity, but more significantly in using the
familiar recurrences of the Church year. The whole western world kept not
only Christmas, but Candlemas, Michaelmas, and the rest. Nothing is more
characteristic than the focus of popular emotion upon Corpus Christi. The
calendar of feasts and fasts was the actual calendar. A medieval auditory
had a great common fund of conscious and subconscious associations.
The surrounding symbolism of stone and glass was familiar from land to
land. The pulpit was beside the altar. The regular sermon on a Sunday
or a feast was at Mass after the gospel, which furnished its text.[4]
The atmosphere of prayer was intensified by specific petition preceding
and following. “Let us therefore ask our Lord to give me good words for
you” ended the exordium, or “Pray that we may be illuminated,” or “Pray
the Lord, therefore, that by the power of spiritual teaching to-day your
hearts may be uplifted”;[5] and the congregation united in _Pater_ and
_Ave_. So the sermon ended with prayer, and was immediately followed
by common intercessions. Though some of these conditions are constant
throughout the history of Christendom, never before or since have they
combined at once so amply and so widely to constitute the conditions
of preaching. In this special sense medieval preaching was the oratory
of occasion. At no other time has oratory had at command so large and
constant a fund of common emotional associations.

A. VERNACULAR TO THE PEOPLE, LATIN TO THE CLERGY

The appeal of medieval preaching to this common emotional fund, though
it cannot often be measured, can be analyzed often as to style and
composition, oftener as to habit of thought, in abundant documents. Even
in print hardly any medieval material is more abundant—and there are
further stores in manuscript—than collections of sermons. In order to
interpret these, we must constantly remember how they were made and why.
First, medieval sermons are habitually gauged to one of the two typical
audiences. Either they are for the lay folk in parish church or cathedral
(_sermones ad populum_), and were preached in the vernacular; or they are
for the clergy (_sermones ad clerum_), i.e., before synods, councils,
schools, oftenest of all in monastery chapels, and were preached in
Latin.[6] In either case, until the late middle age, the record was
always in Latin; in either case the preparation also, the notes and
outline and more or less of the further composition, was usually in
Latin. In the former case of a sermon preached to a lay congregation
the record gives at most only a translation.[7] In the latter case of a
sermon preached to a monastic community the record is at least nearer to
the spoken word. We can press further, therefore, the analysis of sermons
preserved by such communities as the Cistercians and the Victorines.[8]

Though popular preaching is no less worthy of study, less of it has been
transferred to the written page.[9] But translation, though it could
convey little of the spoken vernacular style, must not be thought of as
involving the difficulties of to-day. In the middle age every cleric
was bilingual; and every preacher of distinction enough to be recorded
not only read and wrote Latin habitually, but spoke it fluently.[10]
His schooling having been in Latin, both written and oral, his daily
offices, his reading, and whatever writing he did being still in Latin,
he used Latin easily and naturally in thinking out and ordering a sermon
or in giving another’s sermon, or his own afterward, the permanence of
writing. Since he would not be embarrassed, as young preachers sometimes
are to-day, by trying to recall phrases and sentences, preaching in the
vernacular from Latin notes might even leave oral composition the more
free.

B. COLLECTIONS

The other process, the final rendering in Latin, was by no means
always of the sermon as preached. It might be merely a digest, or
more expansive, or the whole sermon. All three degrees seem to be
exemplified among the printed sermons of Fulbert.[11] The compilers of
Odo of Morimond say: “he was very eloquent; but in writing his sermons
we have ignored the form for the substance.”[12] Collections often show
distinctly less concern for record, for commemoration of achievement,
than for guidance. Some even of the more important collections have
evidently this practical aim. They propose not only inspiration, but
practical suggestion and direction for future sermons on recurrent
themes. They are less anthologies than repertories. Maurice de Sully,
Bishop of Paris, thus designed his widespread collection primarily for
the pastors of his diocese.[13] The study of preaching, not merely the
preservation of notable sermons preached in his time (_sermones reportati
de auditu_), seems to have been the object of the collections of Pierre
de Limoges. Clearly the best known of these, his _Distinctiones_,[14]
arranging not only whole sermons, but outlines and suggestive passages
alphabetically by subjects, is meant for reference. That the collections
commonly had in view the practical use of successful sermons as models is
suggested again and again, and sometimes indicated.[15]

The great thesaurus of Jacques de Vitry[16] is systematically practical,
a collection not primarily _of_ sermons, but _for_ sermons. Models,
outlines, suggestions, intended for adaptation in the vernacular[17] are
arranged according to the Church calendar: four books for the seasons,
a fifth for the saints, with three expositions for each day, the first
of the introit, the second of the epistle, the third of the gospel. The
sixth book is classified for adaptations to typical social groups. What
has naturally most attracted modern historians in this storehouse is the
abundance of illustrative descriptions and stories, the _exempla_. A
resource prized in all times for popular address, the _exemplum_ was so
cultivated in medieval preaching as to call forth many collections.[18]
It looms unduly large to modern readers because the _exempla_ have now
an extraneous interest in reflecting medieval life, and because they
were taken not only, as now, from contemporary life, from history, from
legend, but also from the bestiaries.

The basilisk, they tell us, bears in his eye his poison, vilest
of animals, beyond others to be execrated. Wilt thou know the
eye that is empoisoned, eye of evil, eye that has fascination?
Then think thou upon envy. St. Bernard on the Psalm _Qui
habitat_, xiii. 4; PL 183: 237.

The mythical zoölogy is now often too diverting to keep its effectiveness
as illustration. But to recover this, and to realize that the bestiaries
do not convict the middle age of credulity, we need not go back of St.
Francis de Sales. _Exempla_, after all, are a commonplace of preaching
because they are a necessity.

The general thesaurus and the special[19] alike confirm the impression
of wide use of a common fund of topics and illustrations. But sermon
helps are not peculiar to the middle age. Every age has offered to its
preachers something equivalent to the medieval handy manuals.[20] Not
only preaching, but all occasional oratory, has always been beset by the
temptation to rely on pattern and stock.[21] That the middle age had many
conventional sermons is less significant than that it had St. Bernard and
the early Dominicans.

C. MANUALS

Medieval manuals of preaching are no more specific than modern manuals
as to their rhetoric. That is typically generalized, or even taken for
granted. For instance, Guibert de Nogent’s _Liber quo ordine sermo fieri
debeat_,[22] concerned entirely with interpretation, has no rhetoric
at all. The anonymous Chartres work on popular preaching quoted in
part by Clerval[23] gives, besides the usual procedure and advice, a
practical counsel for preparation and one for delivery. The first is to
fix meditation on the specific object of that sermon and on the specific
means most likely to bring it home, not on the words. The words will come
if the matter is surely ordered. The second is to increase urgency from
quotations of texts through _exempla_ uttered with loud appeal until the
congregation shows emotional response, then to moderate the tone so as to
lead quietly to the final benediction.

Another anonymous manual[24] sets forth eight methods of expansion
(_De dilatatione sermonum_): (1) definition and exposition of terms,
especially of their “moral” significance; (2) division, not to be
so minute in a sermon as in a treatise; (3) proof, by contraries,
enthymemes, examples, again to be guarded from subtlety; (4) citation of
confirmatory texts; (5) degrees, i.e., positive-comparative-superlative,
as in exhibiting one of the virtues; (6) metaphors, not to be multiplied
nor mixed; (7) symbolism, i.e., allegory, tropology, anagogy; (8) cause
and effect. Most of these are commonplaces of rhetoric. Some of them,
and their use for dilation, suggest the same preoccupations as the
_poetriæ_.[25]

The Dominicans, devoted to preaching, maintaining a long and severe
discipline of studies, provided systematically for oral composition.
“_Legendo, studendo, disputando_”[26]—the last tallies not only with
Dominican fame, but with the focus, and the increasing emphasis, of
oral training on logic.[27] Otherwise the manual of the fifth Dominican
General, the _De eruditione prædicatorum_ of Humbert de Romans, says
little of rhetoric. Rather it is practical psychology, as are the second
book of Aristotle’s _Rhetoric_ and the sixth book of Jacques de Vitry.

Practical by another method is the manual of Alain de Lille, _Summa
magistri Alani doctoris universalis de arte prædicatoria_.[28] “First we
must see,” he says at the end of his preface, “_what_ preaching is, its
distinguishing qualities of expression and of thought, and its typical
species; secondly, _who_ should preach; thirdly, _to whom_; fourthly,
_why_; fifthly, _where_.” His first chapter, after brief consideration
of preaching as public speaking, sets forth the special sanction for
sermons of the gospels, the Psalms, the Pauline epistles, and the “books
of Solomon” as offering instruction in morals. Winning his audience by
his own humility and by the practical import of his message,[29] not by
appeals to applause, the preacher proceeds to the twofold exposition of
the text. “Let his words be sometimes emotional (_commotiva_), to soften
the minds of his hearers and bring tears. But let the sermon be concise,
lest prolixity bring instead boredom.... Finally he should use _exempla_.”

Chapter ii proposes for a theme the scorning of the world (_De mundi
contemptu_), and for its text, “Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.”
Distinguishing the vanity of this world as thus typically threefold,
Alain quotes _Romans_ and the Psalms and adds Persius. “Thus the preacher
should confirm each division of his text. His next step is to show where
is vanity, where vanity of vanities, where all is vanity.... The scorning
of the world, thus established by the way of the world itself, should be
established also by consideration of man’s end (_a causa finali_).” The
peroration apostrophizes human blindness (_O homo, si mundana_, etc.).

In a word, Alain furnishes a specimen order and procedure. Succeeding
chapters thus present other usual topics: scorning of oneself, gluttony,
the other deadly sins, the heavenly hope, spiritual grief and joy,
patience and each of the other virtues, love of God and of one’s
neighbor, etc. The remaining headings of his prefatory division are
taken up at chapter xxxviii; and his consideration of different types in
congregations has the humor to include the sleepy. The title _Summa_,
then, implies a preacher’s book of reference, with advice and direction
subordinated to classified material. The distinction of this _Summa_ is
its systematic conciseness.

D. SYMBOLISM

Much more distinctive than any provision of collection or manual for
ordinary use of a common fund is the prevalence of symbolism. The “moral”
exposition that followed the literal commonly had this direction. For
medieval symbolism was not merely a habit of exposition; it was seen as
well as heard because it was a habit of conception. The cathedrals still
exhibit in sculpture and glass what came in words from their pulpits. The
Psalms, especially those recurring in the daily offices, thus conveyed
from generation to generation the eternal word of God. For every psalm
was the lyric cry of David, or of some other ancient Hebrew, only in
the first instance (_litteralis expositio_). It always meant more; and
its further meaning (_moralis expositio_), as cumulating progressive
experience of God, was more important. It always meant not only David,
but every other soul thus answering God, the “poor man” of every time and
of every clime, every individual then and there focusing and enlarging by
those words his own experience.

So far the “moral” interpretation treats the psalm as an extreme case of
literary inspiration, appropriates it as having the universal validity of
every lyric that has survived the centuries. A religious classic, more
widely and intensely spiritual than any other body of lyrics, the psalter
is still only a classic. But medieval interpretation always took a third
step. Every psalm meant not only David, and further not only every
“poor man” making it his own, but also “the man,” the Lord incarnate to
share all humanity and to give men “power to become the sons of God.”
Thus the Psalms spanned the centuries, connected the New Testament with
the Old indivisibly, and were the voice of man in every age answering
God in the Church. The habitual use of the Old Testament, and even of
secular history, as prefiguring is here focused in its simplest form.[30]
Simplest and commonest instance of symbolism, the interpretation of the
Psalms is characteristic. Though not, indeed, peculiar to the middle age,
it opens a widespread medieval habit.

The habitual use of the _Song of Songs_ as symbolic of the Christ and
his Church reminds us that symbolism is essentially poetic. It was
the usual poetic of medieval preaching in interpreting not only the
Scriptures, but all human experience. As behind the word lay spiritual
meaning, so behind the veil of the senses lay the realities of life.
The so-called “otherworldliness” of medieval preaching is no ignoring
of physical facts; it is a sustained and consistent call to see through
them. What medieval philosophy defined as seeing “in the aspect of
eternity” (_sub specie æternitatis_) medieval preaching inculcated as a
habit of vision. The habit might, indeed, degenerate, as in that popular
manual of the fourteenth century, the _Speculum humanæ salvationis_,[31]
into extravagance or minute formalism; but even so it kept some view of
history as a providential progress. It might rise, on the other hand,
to express the immediate apprehension of the mystic, the vision of
spiritual genius. But the distinction of the medieval mystic is rather
in degree than in kind. The whole age is characteristically habituated to
mysticism. No other poetic vision is equal to Dante’s; but no other form
of poetry in his age, whether in verse or in sermon, is commoner than the
vision.

Not only to the rapt was the visible world eloquent of the unseen eternal.

Full, indeed, is everything of supernal mysteries, abounding
each in its special sweetness if the eye that beholds be but
attentive, as of him who knows how to suck honey from the
stone and oil from the hardest rock. St. Bernard, _De Laudibus
Virginis Matris_, I. 1; PL 183: 56.

In the following sermon of this series St. Bernard refers seriatim to
the accepted prefigurations of the Blessed Virgin. She is the perennial
antagonist of the serpent (Genesis iii. 15), the _mulier fortis_ of
Solomon (Proverbs xxxi. 10), the burning bush (Exodus iii. 2), Aaron’s
budding rod (Numbers xvii. 8), Isaiah’s rod from the root of Jesse (xi.
1), the rod that smote the rock (Exodus xvii. 6) and divided the sea
(Exodus xiv. 16), Gideon’s fleece (Judges vi. 37-40), the woman who is
the Lord’s new creation (Jeremiah xxxi. 22). The prefigurations of this
list had an obvious appeal in sermons through being familiar in hymns, in
sculpture, in glass. Evidently St. Bernard loved them for their poetry;
but he is also convinced of their sanction. He even formulates the theory
of symbolic prefiguration.

These words [“To-day ye shall know that the Lord will come”],
indeed, have in Holy Writ their [historical] location in place
and time; but not incongruously have they been adapted to the
vigil of the Lord’s Nativity by mother Church—the Church, I
say, she who has with her the counsel and spirit of her Spouse
and God.... When, therefore, she changes or shifts words in
Holy Writ, her combination (_compositio_) has more weight than
the passage in its original place, the more, perhaps, the
greater the distance between figure and fact, between light and
shadow, between mistress and handmaid. St. Bernard, _In Vigilia
Nativitatis Domini_, III. 1; PL 183: 94.

His second sermon for Advent carries out the prefiguration of the rod, or
stem (_virga_).[32]

From these passages I think it now manifest what is the stem
proceeding from the root of Jesse, and what is the flower on
which reposeth the Holy Spirit. For the Virgin Mother of God
is the stem, her son is the flower, flower indeed the son of
the Virgin, flower white at once and ruddy, the chosen from
thousands (Cantic. v. 10), flower that angels desire in their
visions, flower at whose fragrance the dead have revival, and,
as he himself beareth witness, flower of the field (Cantic.
ii. 1), not of the garden. Flowereth the field without human
ministry, not by sowing of any one, not upturned by spading,
not from without made fertile. So entirely, so the Virgin’s
womb hath flowered; so inviolate, unimpaired, and chaste the
body of Mary as the pasture of the eternal vigor hath burgeoned
its flower, whose is a beauty beyond corruption, whose a glory
unfading forever. O Virgin! stem of the highest, to what a
summit thou liftest on high thy holiness! even to him that
sitteth on the throne, even to the Lord in his majesty. Nor is
that a great marvel, since thou has sent so deep the roots of
thy meekness. O truly celestial plant, that art precious above
all and holy above mankind! O true tree of life, which alone
was worthy to bear the fruit of salvation! _De Adventu Domini_,
II. 4; PL 183: 42.

The symbolism of his sermon in the Epiphany octave on the marriage at
Cana is specifically moralized.

Now, methinks, ye have fathomed to what my words are tending.
To-day ye have been hearing the wonder performed at the
marriage, beginning indeed of the Lord’s tokens, even as a
story sufficiently wonderful, and in significance still richer
in gladness. Great indeed was the sign of the heavenly power,
that water turned into wine at the Lord’s bidding; but far
better that other changing at the right hand of the Highest
which in this one is prefigured. We are bidden every one to
the spiritual marriage at which of a truth the bridegroom
is Christ our Lord. Wherefore we sing in the Psalter: _And
he as a bridegroom coming forth from his chamber_ [Psalm
xviii. 6]. Spouse indeed are we to him, if this seem not to
you incredible, both all together one spouse and every soul
by itself a spouse singly. But when can this be conceived
of its God by human weakness, that we should be his beloved
as a bride is beloved by her bridegroom? Far enough is this
bride below her bridegroom in origin, below in her nature,
below in her dignity. Nevertheless for that ancient Æthiop
woman the son of the eternal king from far made his advent,
and that for his own he might espouse her, feared not even to
die for her. Moses, indeed, took to wife an Æthiop woman, but
his marriage availed not to change the Æthiop’s color: Christ
will present his bride, whom he loved in her baseness and all
her foulness, glorious with his own glory, his Church without
spot or wrinkle. Aaron may murmur; Miriam (Maria) may murmur,
not the new, but the old, not the Lord’s mother, but Moses’
sister; not, I say, our Mary, she who shows her solicitude if
some lack perchance is found at the marriage. Ye, therefore, as
is meet, amid the murmurs of the priests, amid the murmurs of
the synagogue, give your entire devotion to these our common
acts of praise and thanksgiving. _Dominica Prima post Octavam
Epiphaniæ_, II. 2; PL 183: 158.

Such preaching shows the same preoccupation as the symbolic windows
of the cathedrals, their carved capitals, above all the thronged but
harmonized groups of their great porches. It is not merely conventional
illustration; it is a constant and consistent reminder of the history of
mankind as a scheme of redemption.

E. COMPOSITION

1. Imaginative Method

The most conventional form of symbolism is allegory. This may be no
more than what Lowell calls “personification by capital letters,” as in
the Vice and Virtue, the Reason, Feeling, or Nature, of the eighteenth
century. Even so it has more point when the convention is as instantly
recognizable as the seven deadly sins of medieval capitals and poems,
or the four cardinal and the three theological virtues, or even the
seven liberal arts, each with appropriate costume, attitude, gesture,
or action. How pleasant allegory may be in verse is evident in the wide
popularity of the _Roman de la Rose_.

But no less evidently such pictorial aggregation offers little to
preaching, since it has no vigor of composition. To be moving, allegory
as well as higher symbolism must be narrative. The classic demonstration
of this, the _Pilgrim’s Progress_, was written by a preacher. The art
has never been more widely or more expertly pursued than in the middle
age. The fourteenth-century English _Piers Plowman_ suggests even more
vividly, with its strongly oral manner, how allegory might move in
preaching. A sermon might be not only enlivened by passages of easily
recognizable description; it might further be vivified by making the
figures individuals and by putting them into speech and action. A
complete demonstration is furnished in the interlude, prologue, and tale
of Chaucer’s Pardoner. That accomplished rascal is made to display the
whole art of oral narrative, from its vulgar drama to its high ranges
of symbolic suggestion. The case is extreme; but the method has been a
resource of popular preaching from the days of Nathan’s rebuke to David
down to the present. Oral narrative, often with dramatic dialogue, has
been heard again and again, both in such base uses as the Pardoner’s and
in such urgency of message as Bunyan’s, because it has been found surely
persuasive.

Here is the high art of the _exemplum_. Often the medieval record puts
us off with a summary; sometimes the manuals give a mere note, “Tell
the story of so-and-so”; but sometimes there are clear clues to such
narrative art as makes the Pardoner’s tale breathless. An _exemplum_ of
Walter Map’s lets us divine how dramatic the tale might be in the pulpit.

But for other men the monastic life turns out otherwise. Far
more pitiable was the fate of a noble and eloquent man who,
likewise a monk of the same community, was in the same case
recalled to arms. [After winning great fame as a warrior, he
had in penitence become a monk, vowing never again to shed
blood. But when the countryside was harried, his old comrades
dragged him forth, in spite of his protests, and made him lead
them once more.] Enduring many reverses of battle with a noble
fortitude, he was always reanimated by defeat to fight again,
and, inflamed as it were with new ardor, would fly at the
enemy the more fiercely, and whether they fled or held their
ground, would indefatigably stick to them like glue. When the
enemy sought to crush him by the size of their company, they
found that victory goes to bravery, not to numbers. Burning
with wrath, therefore, and increasing their force many fold,
they surprised him in a valley hemmed between two cliffs,
and had him almost trapped. No hope, for he was caught; no
issue, for he was held; they went to work the more leisurely
because the more securely. But he, bursting into their midst
like a tempest, scatters them like dust in a whirlwind, and
so stupefies them by his daring that they see nothing to do
but run. Promptly he hangs on their rear with his band, small
enough in comparison with theirs; and the throng of the enemy,
in the effort to save their lords from him, becomes the
prize of a single monk. But one leader of that attack, after
escaping, makes a detour ahead and, mingling unrecognized with
the monk’s men, works back steadily toward the monk, risking
his own life to take his. The monk, almost stifled with toil
and sun, calls his page, enters a vineyard, doffs his armor,
and, while his band passes on, stretches himself half-stripped
to the air under the shade of a tall vine. Then the skulker,
leaving the line of march and slipping up stealthily step by
step, pierces the monk with a deadly dart and escapes. The
monk, knowing himself near death, confesses his sins to the
page, the only person within reach, bidding him impose penance.
He, being a layman, swears he knows not how. But the monk,
extreme in his penitence as in everything, says: “Impose upon
me by the mercy of God, dearest son, that in the name of Jesus
Christ my soul may be in hell doing penance up to the day of
judgment; so that then the Lord may have mercy upon me, lest
with the wicked I behold the countenance of his wrath and
anger.” Then replies the boy with tears, “My lord, I impose
upon thee for penance that which here before the Lord thy lips
have uttered.” And he, accepting with word and look, devoutly
received the penance and died.

Here let us remember the words of mercy, In whatsoever hour a
sinner shall repent, he shall be saved. Wherein he might have
repented and did not, whether he omitted anything possible, we
may discuss; and God have mercy on his soul. Walter Map, _De
nugis curialium_, I. xiv.

2. Logical Method

Composition as a progress of thought, logical sequence, ordering by
paragraphs, shows on the other hand little that is distinctively
medieval. As in other times, differences here are rather individual.
Bourgain does not establish his assertion of a general weakness of
order;[33] and his addition that even St. Bernard proceeds by leaps[34]
is extravagant. Lecoy de la Marche has more warrant for asserting that
medieval sermons generally lack such sustained progress[35] as Bossuet’s.
For often the course of a medieval sermon is not only shorter;[36] it
is less sustained by a progress of paragraphs than forwarded by stages
of emotion. The latter method may be for its audience no less valid.
Indeed, preaching must learn poetic as well as rhetoric. Its composition,
ideally embracing both, will be bent toward the one or the other by the
particular preacher and audience. The medieval abeyance of sustained
logical progress, if in fact it was general, may have been due to
preoccupation with those poetic methods which were effective with some of
the greatest preachers.

The school lore of rhetoric, however, was weak in the inculcation of
logical progress. Busy with style, confusing in this study rhetoric
with poetic, it offered too little practical guidance for preaching
as composition. Doubtless the lack was filled in some cases by the
teacher;[37] but the shift of pedagogy to logic implies, among other
things, dissatisfaction with rhetoric.[38] What medieval rhetoric lacked,
medieval logic, for all its triumphs in other directions, could not quite
supply for preaching. The disputations of the schools, excellent for
general training in oral fluency, in precision, in detecting and meeting
error, could not reach the specific skill of continuously instructing,
winning, and moving a silent congregation. They might even lead a vain or
unwary preacher astray. Medieval preaching has been accused of habitual
over-division, of tedious minuteness in headings and subheadings.
Unfortunately such sermon divisions are not peculiar to any period.
They seem no less common, for instance, in printed English sermons of
the seventeenth century. But the medieval record, at least, does not
always reproduce the actual preaching method.[39] Sometimes it gives
little beyond the outline, which thus seems the more barren. Sometimes it
uses a sermon as the occasion for further development, rather providing
for future than following actual exposition of the text. Where the
record seems to follow, there is evidence enough to make probable that
the dominance of logic did deviate many late medieval sermons into
over-analysis.

Analysis, the very function of logic, can never suffice, as Aristotle
makes clear, for presentation. In preaching, its value is not for
organizing, but for preliminary study. It is rather for the preacher than
for his audience. It belongs rather in his notes than in his sermon. But
though doctors analyzing daily in the schools might rely unduly on their
habitual method when they preached, they preached oftenest to the schools
themselves, that is to special audiences habituated to logical method.
The popular preaching of the Franciscans can hardly have had that bent.
The Dominicans, severely trained in logic, were also trained specifically
to preach. St. Bernard, preaching both to monastic communities and to
the people, will not be accused of over-division. Neither St. Anthony
of Padua nor St. Bernardine of Siena can have set Italy on fire with
elaborate analysis. These considerations, though largely _a priori_,
are at least as weighty as contrary inferences from the sermon record.
They permit the belief that medieval preachers realized as generally as
preachers of other times the apothegm of St. Ambrose: _Non in dialectica
complacuit Deo salvum facere populum suum_.

F. STYLE

Medieval sermons, for all the defects of transmission, offer ample and
various demonstration of the force and beauty of medieval Latin. In
contrast to the archaistic composition of the Renaissance, medieval
sermon Latin moves at its best with ready variety and even in ordinary
use with easy fluency.

1. Rhythm

Pierre de Celles,[40] fairly typical of ordinary expertness, is clearly
rhythmical. St. Bernard’s ardor and winsomeness, the oral immediacy of
his expression, appear in no resource of his style more strikingly than
in his very pace.[41]

We have heard with our ears what is full of grace and worthy of
acceptance: “Jesus Christ the Son of God is born in Bethlehem
of Judah.” My soul hath been melted at this announcement; but
my spirit in my breast is surging in haste to utter this joy
and this exultation of your desire at the time appointed. Jesus
is interpreted Savior. What so necessary to the fallen, what
so desirable to the wretched, what so useful to the hopeless?
Nay, elsewhere whence is salvation, whence even some slight
hope of salvation, in the law of sin and the body of our death,
in the evil of the present day and the place of our affliction,
unless it were born to us anew and unlooked for? Thou perhaps
desirest salvation; but the bitterness of the remedy, when thou
thinkest alike of thy weakness and of thy illness, affrighteth
thee. Fear thou not. Christ is very gentle, mild and of great
mercy, anointed with the oil of gladness above his fellows, who
receive, though not his very fulness, yet some of the fulness
of his anointing. But lest thou, hearing his gentleness,
shouldst undervalue the might of thy Savior, cometh his title,
the Son of God. _In Vigilia Nativitatis Domini_, VI. 1; PL 183:
109.

Now let us return unto Bethlehem, and let us see this word
which is wrought, which the Lord hath wrought and hath shown to
his people. House of bread it is by old rendering; good for us
there to tarry. Where hath been the word of the Lord, naught
shall fail of the bread which shall strengthen the heart,
as saith the prophet: “Comfort thou me according unto thy
word” (Psalm cxviii. 28). In every word from the mouth of God
proceeding mankind liveth, liveth in Christ as Christ in him is
living. _Ibid._ 10; PL 183: 114.

Happy then forever are these our brethren, who now have been
freed from the snare of those that hunted them, who from the
tents (_tabernaculis_) of our campaigning to the halls where we
shall be resting have made their passage, their fear of evil
lifted, their hope singly and fully now established. This is
the faithful, all the faithful body, greeted in “There shall
no evil happen unto thee; neither shall any plague come nigh
thy dwelling” (_tabernaculo_: Psalm xc. 10). _In Psal. Qui
habitat_, XI. 2; PL 183: 225.

2. Balance and Rime

Balance, beloved of occasional orators from Gorgias down,[42] is useful
in sharpening the iterations and contrasts of preaching.

Human weakness must realize its limitation.... The counsel of
preaching, rather the counsel of the truth itself and of the
divine reason, calls on man to yield his own reason. Let him
fear not to yield himself entirely, following God entirely,
and boasting in the Lord entirely, knowing him in whom he
believes as able to keep the deposit of oneself and to give
it increase (2 Tim. i. 12). He will restore thyself to thee,
and with interest. He takes it as earthly, to restore it in
heaven. He takes it in humility, to restore it exalted. He
takes it as diminished, to restore it perfected. He takes it as
empty, to restore it face to face with God in contemplation.
He takes it corrupted, to render it incorruptible. He takes it
in wretchedness, to render it happy, transferring a creature
of time to the eternal, man unto the godlike. Achard of St.
Victor, _De septem desertis_[43] (peroration).

Such balance often leads, through mere inflectional correspondence, to
rime. That rime of clause with clause was avoided as a vice even in
classical Latin is an exaggeration of Renaissance scrupulosity.[44] The
middle age, following rather Augustine and the tradition of the schools
of Gaul,[45] found rime desirable, and often sought it to mark parallel
or contrast. Simple, ordinary use of it is heard again and again in a
sermon by Hilduin.[46]

Porro bruttis animalibus paleam littere relinquamus, et de
medulla tritici panem vite confestim filiis porrigamus.

Elinand uses it to point an epigram.[47]

Quæsivit me diabolus, et invenit, et circumvenit; quæsivit me
Christus, invenit et subvenit.

Richard of St. Victor’s rime often marks insistently exact balances.

Hic flos factus est nobis medicina, ex illo mel et cera, in
ipso potus et esca; medicina in redemptione, potus et esca in
justificatione, mel et cera in glorificatione.

Ex hac medicina sanitas sempiternæ incorruptibilitatis;
ex ejus esca refectio internæ satietatis;
ex ejusmodi potu ebrietas æternæ securitatis;
de illius cera splendor summæ claritatis;
in ejus melle dulcor indeficientis felicitatis.

PL 196: 1032.

It may mark a progressive iteration. Repeating _florida_ and _transeamus_
from what he has just said, he goes on:

Sternamus itaque viam nostram floribus talibus, et per
florida virtutum transeamus, munde et honeste procedamus, ut
processionem nostram pulchram et gratam faciamus, et pascha
floridum digna celebritate perficiamus. _In Ramis Palmarum_, PL
196: 1059.

Even such insistence remains within the limits of rimed prose; it is only
extreme use of a widespread habit. Exceptional, on the other hand, since
it repeatedly verges toward verse, is St. Anselm’s Lament of the Magdalen
at the tomb.[48]

Audivimus, fratres, Mariam
ad monumentum foris stantem;
audivimus Mariam
foris plorantem.

The device was so easily abused as to call forth more than one
warning;[49] but it was so obvious a means of emphasis as to be widely
prevalent.

3. Refrain

St. Bernard, though he does not avoid rime, shows habitually no need of
it to strengthen his iterations. With him iteration often advances from
rhetorical cumulation to poetical refrain.

“Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign. Behold a
virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name
Immanuel,” which by interpretation is God with us. Flee not,
fallen Adam; for God is with us. Fear not, mankind, nor hearing
the name of God be affrighted; for God is with us: with us
likened by incarnation, with us by unification. All for us his
coming, though he be one of us, like unto us in our suffering.
_De Adventu Domini_, II. 1 (end); PL 183: 41.

His fifth sermon for the vigil of Christmas uses incremental iteration to
contrast _to-day_ and _to-morrow_.

This our task to-day; for to-morrow’s shall be neither in
sanctification nor in preparation, but in the very vision of
majesty. “To-morrow,” saith the word, “ye shall see the majesty
of God in you.” This is the meaning of the patriarch Jacob:
“To-morrow unto me shall my justice make answer” (Genesis xxx.
33). To-day, indeed, justice is in observance; to-morrow it
will answer: to-day it is practised; fruit cometh to-morrow.
But that which man hath not planted neither shall he harvest.
For neither shall he then behold the majesty who hath meantime
made light of the holiness, nor shall the sun of glory rise
for him to whom the sun of justice has not arisen, nor shall
he see the light of to-morrow who has not been enlightened by
to-day. Nay even he himself, who to-day for us is made justice
by God the Father, shall appear as our life to-morrow, that we
also may appear with him in glory. For to-day he is come to
us in childhood, that man may not have wherewith to magnify
himself, but that we may be rather converted and become as
children. To-morrow shall be shown how great is God, how worthy
of praises, that even we ourselves may be magnified in praises,
since every man shall have his praise of God. Nay, those whom
to-day he has justified, to-morrow he shall magnify; and to the
achievement of holiness shall succeed the majesty of vision.
No empty vision this, consisting only in similitude. We shall
be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Therefore here
also the words are not simply “Ye shall see the majesty of
God”; but significantly is added “in you”. To-day, indeed, as
in a mirror, we see ourselves in him as he taketh our nature;
to-morrow we shall see him in us, when he giveth of his nature,
since he will show us himself and take us up to himself. This
is what he promised to minister at his coming; and meantime we
have received of his fulness, not indeed glory for glory, but
grace for grace, as it is written ‘The Lord will give grace
and worship’ (Psalm lxxxiii. 12). Despise not, then, the gifts
preceding, if thou yearnest for those that follow. _In Vigilia
Nativitatis Domini_, V. 3; PL 183: 107.

Refrain reinforces other incremental iteration in an ardent sermon on the
_Magnificat_.[50] The very insistence exhibits strikingly the value of
cumulative progress for charging exposition with emotion.

1. _Magnificat anima mea Dominum._ Magnificat voce, magnificat
opere, magnificat affectu. Magnificat laudando, amando,
prædicando. Magnificat, laudandi, amandi et magnificandi formam
simul et materiam dando. _Magnificat anima mea Dominum_: quia
magnifice a magnifico Domino magnifica est. In primis ad
imaginem et similitudinem Dei anima mea mirabiliter a Domino
creata est; sed postea in Adam miserabiliter deformata, nunc
mirabilius, gloriosius et magnificentius a Domino renovata
est. _Magnificat anima mea Dominum._ Magnificat omnis creatura
Dominum, sed amplius super omnem creaturam anima mea Dominum
magnificat. In omni enim creatura nihil tam magnifice fecit
Dominus sicut animam meam. Sed Dominus est: sicut voluit, sic
factum est. _Magnificat anima mea Dominum._ Dominum magnifica,
non temetipsum. Qui semetipsum magnificavit, quantum in
ipso fuit, Deum exhonoravit: et ideo non se exaltavit, sed
præcipitavit. Tuum est te ipsum humiliare, Domini exaltare.

2. _Et exsultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo._ Vide
qualis ordo. Prius citharam, postea psalterium tetigit: prius
animam, postea spiritum posuit: non enim prius quod spirituale,
sed quod animale; deinde quod spirituale. _Et exsultavit
spiritus meus_, extra omnem creaturam, extra seipsum etiam præ
immensitate gaudii saltavit. In quo? Non in me; sed _in Deo_
creatore meo, cognitione et amore ejus fervendo: et hoc non
per me, sed mediante et salvante me _Salutari meo_ Jesu filio
meo, singulariter meo. Meus est Deus, meus Salutaris, meus
est filius. Omnium quidem et mei conditor est, sed mei solius
filius est: et me mediante omnium salus est.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Bourgain, 31. The sermon is in PL 158.

[2] “The lord Abbot preached in chapter on the Epiphany a magnificent
sermon. I have rendered it rapidly, as well as I could from memory, to
send to you.” Odo, quoted by Bourgain, 16.

“Les sermons d’Hildebert n’ont donc pas été prononcés tels qu’ils sont
écrits.” Bourgain, 41.

Cf. LM 120-121 on the manuscript sermons of St. Thomas Aquinas. For the
text of St. Bernard’s, see Mabillon’s introduction to PL 183.

[3] See Chapter II above.

[4] Special sermons, panegyrics for instance, might be preached after
Mass. Both were called _sermones in mane_ in distinction from the
afternoon _collatio_, which, however, might continue or confirm them. See
LM, 223-226.

[5] Quoted by LM, 289.

[6] The evidence is so ample as to leave no further dispute, though there
were naturally exceptions, as in the case of lay brothers in monasteries.
See the review in either Bourgain or LM, and for the sermons of St.
Bernard Mabillon’s introduction to PL 183.

[7] E.g., Pierre de Blois (PL 207: 750) sends by request a written
(Latin) version of a sermon preached in French, remarking that the Latin
naturally has more amplitude.

[8] As was suggested by Langlois, _L’éloquence sacrée au moyen âge_,
Revue des deux mondes, 115 (Jan., 1893): 177.

[9] Cruel, 338, has some racy bits from the Dominican Frater Peregrinus.

[10] Samson, famous twelfth-century Abbot of St. Edmund’s, preached in
two vernaculars, as well as in Latin. This, doubtless, and his Norfolk
accent, seemed worthy of record. His command of Latin and one vernacular
would hardly be mentioned. “Homo erat eloquens gallice et latine magis
rationi dicendorum quam ornatui verborum innitens. Scripturam anglice
scriptam legere novit elegantissime, et anglice sermonicari solebat
populo, sed secundum linguam Norfolchie, ubi natus et nutritus erat; unde
et pulpitum jussit fieri in ecclesia et ad utilitatem audiencium et ad
decorem ecclesie.” _Cronica Jocelini de Brakelonda_, Camden Soc., London,
1840, page 30; “Rolls Series,” 96, vol. I, page 244.

[11] _Sermones ad populum_, PL 141.

[12] Bourgain, 86.

[13] Bourgain, 48; LM, 45.

[14] About 1273. See LM, 107-109.

[15] See, e.g., Polheim, 390, on St. Anthony of Padua; Cruel, 337, on
Frater Peregrinus.

[16] Cardinal, bishop, historian, famous preacher; died 1240.

[17] This, as well as their derivation from his own _sermones ad
populum_, explains the title _sermones vulgares_. The scheme by books is:

I. Advent to Septuagesima, tempus deviationis;
II. Septuagesima to Easter, tempus revocationis;
III. Easter to Pentecost, tempus reconciliationis;
IV. Pentecost to Advent, tempus peregrinationis.
V. Sancti Maiores, Commune Sanctorum.
VI. Secundum Diversitatem Personarum.

See LM, 55-58.

[18] E.g., Étienne de Bourbon’s _Tractatus de diversis materiis
prædicabilibus_, for which see LM, 113. See also Little (A. G.), _Liber
exemplorum ad usum prædicantium sæculo xiii compositus a quodam fratre
minore anglico de provincia hiberniæ secundum codicem dunelmensem ed._,
Aberdeen, British Society of Franciscan Studies, 1908.

For Jacques de Vitry see Crane (T. F.). _The exempla ... from the
sermones vulgares of J. de V._, ed. with introduction, analysis, and
notes [of sources and parallels], London, 1890 (Pub. Folk-lore Soc. XXVI).

See also Mosher (J. A.). _The exemplum in the early religious and
didactic literature of England_, New York (Columbia University Press),
1911.

[19] For Guillaume d’Auvergne’s _De faciebus mundi_, a thesaurus of
figures, see LM, 70.

[20] One of these was called from its first text, the Advent “Let us cast
away the works of darkness,” _Abjiciamus_.

[21] See above, Chapter I. As in sophistic, encomium was most readily
formalized. See Bourgain, 198, on stock panegyrics.

[22] PL 156: 22. See Bourgain, 67. Guibert died in 1124.

[23] 314, from MS Bib. Nat. fonds latin 9376, folio 89.

[24] MS latin 16530, as summarized in LM 295-296.

[25] See above, Chapter VII. B.

[26] Quoted and discussed in Douais, 65-67. See also LM 131. LM notes
(27) that in 1273 half of the principal sermons at Paris were by
Dominicans, a large proportion of the remainder being by Franciscans.
Humbert de Romans died in 1277.

[27] See above, Chapter VI.

[28] PL 210: 110-198. For Alain’s _Anticlaudianus_, see above, Chapter
VI. D. 1.

[29] The phrase _captare benevolentiam_ and the two ways are traditional
and oft-repeated.

[30] Quatuor sunt regulæ scripturarum quibus quasi quibusdam rotis
volvitur omnis sacra pagina: hoc est historia, quæ res gestas loquitur;
allegoria, in qua ex alio aliud intelligitur; tropologia, id est moralis
locutio, in qua de moribus componendis ordinandisque tractatur; anagoge,
spiritualis scilicet intellectus, per quem de summis et cœlestibus
tractaturi ad superiora ducimur. Guibert, _Liber quo ordine sermo fieri
debeat_, PL 156: 25 D.

In the Victorine thesaurus _Sermones centum_ (PL 179) the 39th opens
according to this scheme as follows. _Jerusalem civitas sancta_ (Apoc.
21) et _civitas sancti_ (Isa. 52). Secundum historiam civitas est
terrena, secundum allegoriam sancta est Ecclesia; secundum tropologiam
vita spiritualis, secundum anagogen patria cœlestis. PL 179: 999.

See also Hugh of St. Victor’s _De triplici intelligentia sacræ
scripturæ_, chapter iii of his _De scripturis et scriptoribus sacris_, PL
175: 11-12.

[31] For this and for its relations to symbolistic habit see Perdrizet.
For one of the many earlier examples of minuteness see the Advent sermon
of Pierre de Celles on Isaiah xvi. 1, “Send the lamb” (_Emitte agnum
tuum_), PL 202: 687, which draws significance from every part of the
lamb: the four feet, the belly, the back, etc. Alain’s chariot (above,
VI. D. 1), remote and artificial to us, was a familiar allegory. Cf. his
theological application of _grammatica_ and _rhetorica_ in the verses _De
incarnatione Christi_, PL 210: 577, and Bourgain, 256.

[32] The following translations from St. Bernard in this chapter attempt
to suggest his characteristic rhythms. Though these cannot, of course
be imitated exactly, even partial or approximate rendering may make him
sound the more like himself.

[33] Bourgain, 261. Clerval makes the same criticism (313) of Pierre de
Celles. Cruel gives some means of testing it as a generalization by his
abundant analyses and digests.

[34] “St Bernard lui-même ne marche que par soubresauts.” Bourgain, 261.

[35] “On ne trouvera point au treizième siècle le grand art, l’éloquence
de longue haleine.” LM, 17.

[36] But here too the record may sometimes be misleading. See above, page
234.

[37] For the Dominicans, see above, page 237.

[38] For this implication in John of Salisbury, see above, page 171.

[39] See above, page 229.

[40] PL 202: 637 seq.

[41] St. Bernard’s dactylic pace is more marked at the opening of the
first sermon of this series: “Laborat affectio mellifluæ dulcedinis
copiam latius effundere gestiens, nec inveniens verba. Tanta siquidem
est gratia sermonis hujus ut continuo incipiat minus sapere si unum iota
mutavero.” PL 183: 87.

[42] See Chapter I above, page 42.

[43] Modum suum agnoscat humana imbecillitas.... Consilio meo, immo
consilio ipsius veritatis et rationis divinæ suam deserat homo rationem.
Non timeat se totum deserere, totus Deum sequens, et se totum jactans
in Domino. Sciat cui credit quia potens est depositum ipsius reservare
sed et augmentare. Ipsum tibi restituet, et cum usura. Accipit in terra
et restituet in cælo. Accipit humilem et restituet sublimem. Accipit
diminutum et restituet perfectum. Accipit vacuum et restituet facie ad
faciem Deum contemplantem. Accipit corruptum et reddet incorruptibilem.
Accipit miserum et reddet beatum, temporalem transferens in æternum,
hominem in Deum. Quoted by Hauréau, _Histoire littéraire du Maine_, I.
19. Achard was Abbot of St. Victor 1155.

Cf. St. Bernard’s “Neque sine salute Jesus, neque sine unctione Christus,
nec sine gloria venit Dei Filius: siquidem ipse salus, ipse unctio, ipse
gloria.” _In Vigil. Nativ. Dom._ I. 2; PL 183: 87.

[44] For the history of Latin prose rime, with ample documentation, see
Polheim; for concise summary, Perdrizet.

[45] See above, Chapter III. A.

[46] _In Fest. S. Dionisi_, last sentence of the exordium. The sermon is
quoted in full by Bourgain, 384 seq.

[47] _In Ascens. Dom._, quoted in context by LM 312 from Tissier VII. 252.

[48] MS latin 2622, ff. 12-18 (Incipit omelia Beati Anselmi super
Johannem de planctu Magdalene), as printed in Bourgain, 373-883.
Bourgain’s comment, 225-227, does not clearly distinguish between such
passages and the rimed prose of most of this _Planctus_.

For a discreet use of rimed prose, deliberate but relieved from
insistence, compare the passage from Alain de Lille quoted in Bourgain
88: “Fenum et stipule sunt”, etc.

[49] E.g., the one quoted in Bourgain, 235, against “rimorum melodias
vel metrorum consonantias que potius fuerunt ad aures audientium
demulcendas quam ad animum informandum” (MS latin 15005, folio 193).

[50] _In Canticum Beatæ Virginis Mariæ_, placed by Mabillon among the
sermons attributed to St. Bernard doubtfully or erroneously (PL 184:
1121).

Imitative translation is practically precluded by the intractable rhythm
of the familiar English “My soul doth magnify the Lord.”

For an exposition of this text different even in the handling of
iteration see Hugh of St. Victor in PL 175: 416.

CHAPTER X

POETIC ACHIEVEMENT IN VERNACULAR

NOTE. This chapter indicates the poetic animating certain
typical or outstanding literary developments in the vernaculars.
Its intention is both historical review in this single aspect
and suggestion of further study. Since it is thus selective
and suggestive, not attempting the impossible appraisal of
vernacular poetic as a whole, it offers no general list of
references. Particular references will be found in place.

A. LYRIC AND EPIC

Lyric, earliest medieval poetic achievement in Latin, shows full
development in the vernaculars. On this the widest Latin influence was of
course the hymns. The most distinct and conspicuous vernacular poetic,
that of the Provençal troubadours, is mainly a minute and elaborate
stanza technic. The fame of troubadour virtuosity gave vogue in other
vernaculars to metrical skill. This is its historical significance in the
development of medieval lyric. Lyric in any time, however, has a short
history. As in Greece, so again and again, having perfected its diction
and its metric, it comes to its own and abides. For more than any other
form of poetic it is timeless; not ancient, nor medieval, nor modern, but
perennial.

Germanic epic,[1] surviving as a strong influence in medieval English
romance, persisted as a distinct poetic among the Scandinavians. In
remote Iceland they developed an elaborate technic of verse epic, and
later a distinct art of prose epic. Not even the troubadour poetic in
the south is more detailed and elaborate than the epic doctrine of the
_Skáldskaparmál_.[2] No medieval stories have more force of narrative
directness than the prose sagas; and few have as much. In narrative
stripped and stark the chief medieval author, perhaps, is Snorri
Sturlasson. But in spite of Viking travels the Old Norse poetic of
verse and of prose remained apart from medieval habit. Bounded by its
own civilization, it was so little appropriated in the general medieval
development of narrative that its recovery in modern times was as
startling as that of the Etruscan sculpture at Perugia.

French epic, flowering later than Germanic, is already in the eleventh
century tinged with romance. The French _chansons de geste_ reflect
a society distinctly feudal; their communal sense is of a larger
community; and they constitute a first chapter in European vernacular
poetic. Epic still in characterization and in the youthful zest of their
combats against odds, they are swayed by new literary currents. The
physical environment is less sharply detailed than in Germanic epic,
perhaps because a kindlier nature was more taken for granted. A sharper
difference is in style. They have none of that Germanic conventional
elaboration which made epic diction a language apart. Much simpler,[3]
they are also more diffuse, in both respects nearer to common speech.
The movement in detail is of ten-syllable verses gathered into irregular
stanzas (_laisses_) by assonance. A more significant distinction is the
habit of narrative. _Roland_ presents substantially the same situation
as _Maldon_. In Anglo-Saxon it is focused by concentration; in French it
is approached as the culmination of a series. Habitually French epic is
more extended and fluent, expansive not descriptively but historically,
running through more events in a single composition. Whereas Anglo-Saxon
epic typically selects and intensifies a crisis, French epic tells the
whole story.

B. EXPERIMENT AND CONVENTION IN ROMANCE

1. Romance in Latin and in Vernacular

Medieval story-tellers in turning to the vernacular found wider
opportunity. The Latin poetic that they all studied in school, practised
in _historia_, _fabula_, _argumentum_, and at greater length in saint’s
legend, was too much absorbed in descriptive elaboration to teach them
much of narrative. Outside the cloister, at the regular stations of the
pilgrimage routes, waited audiences of increasing size and diversity;
and the development of feudalism established the castle hall as a social
center. The development of vernacular narrative answered with the more
social art of romance. The narrative future was increasingly for the
vernacular. Meantime Latin narrative continued not only for its more
special audience, but in various interplay. _Exempla_, sketched or summed
in Latin, were preached in vernacular. An ugly old legend of folklore,
moralized in Latin for an _exemplum_, Chaucer gave back to the wider
audience in the exquisite art of his Prioress. Romances and legends of
saints interpenetrated. The complicated development of the Grail legend
must be followed in both Latin and vernacular. Nevertheless poetic was
beckoned into new narrative paths mainly by the wider appeal through the
vernacular.

Something, of course, was carried over from the _poetriæ_,[4] oftenest
the conventional lore of style. By contrast we are made the more
sharply aware of the escape and adventure of individual bent and native
inspiration. _Aucassin et Nicolete_ has another appeal by another method.
Its style, in spite of occasional conformity, is not in the tradition of
the _poetriæ_. Chrétien, though conforming more, draws his psychology
rather from observation of social habits and even of individual character
than from the classified lore of appropriateness to type. Dante not only
commits the most serious enterprise of medieval poetic to the vernacular;
he utterly ignores the Latin school lore. At the end of the middle age,
the Renaissance already tinging his thought, Chaucer passes through a
whole course of Latin conventions, adapting critically as he goes, and
ranges beyond.

2. Walter Map and Marie

In the twelfth century Walter Map’s Latin notebook _De nugis
Curialium_[5] shows both the persistence of old forms and the stirring of
new in rendering new material. Some of his stories are clearly oriental.
Historical anecdotes and _exempla_, often given in mere lucid summary,
occasionally indicate narrative composition.[6] He tries a story in the
way of Ovid, or again in the Petronian way of the “Matron of Ephesus.”
Two longer tales show not only a firmer conciseness, a sharper vividness,
but what is more significant, grasp of narrative movement. The Friendship
of Sadius and Galo (III. ii)[7] and Sceva and Ollo (IV. xvi) are
enlivened in scene and furthered in plot by dialogue. Both are carried
through progressively to an issue. The former skilfully combines the
Orestes-Pylades motive of friendship with the Joseph-Zuleika motive of
the scorned queen. The latter turns the cynicism of its oriental source
to brisk social satire. Here in Latin are narrative experiments full of
promise. Looking over Walter’s shoulder, we can divine a new literary
stir.

More suggestive of response to a new interest of his audience is the
abundance of Celtic folklore. There are banshees, wandering dead, a
nicker, a pact with a demon. King Herla (I. xi), like Rip Van Winkle,
stays too long in fairyland. The fairy mistress appears four times. Once
(II. xi) the old tale is hardly more than notes. In Edric the Wild (II.
xii) the moonlight dance (_chorea feminarum_) keeps its ancient spell.
Meridiana (IV. xi) associates a different and longer version quite
disconcertingly with the great Gerbert. Though none of these brings the
tale to the sequence of Sadius and Galo, we feel an artist at work. Some
of these shorter tales may be Latin summaries, like the _exempla_ of the
collections, for telling in French. Whether he worked out his narrative
art in the vernacular we do not know. Though some critics have inferred
for him a considerable part in the development of the Grail legend, the
only surviving work that is certainly his is this artist’s sketch-book.

There are fewer suggestions of narrative experiment in the contemporary
French _lais_ of Marie.[8] Her _Yonec_ is satisfied with the rapid
summary of Latin tradition. Her charming _Honeysuckle_ is an episode of
the Tristram story. Iseult, finding a peeled wand by her way through
the wood, knew that Tristram was near. As much lyric as narrative, such
episodic poems suggest what the _lai_ may have been in its earliest
use of Celtic fairy adventure. _Lanval_ and _Eliduc_ handle with more
narrative progress what we now call a situation. Another rendering
of the former situation, the anonymous _Graalent_, shows by contrast
Marie’s discernment either in choosing a version narratively superior
or in herself reshaping. Generally her art is less of composition than
of style. Her habit with a situation is not the fluent onwardness of
_Aucassin et Nicolete_,[9] nor the intensive and progressive sequence of
the later _Chastelaine de Vergi_.[10] The technic of the latter, though
distinctly realized in the middle age, remained exceptional. It receives
little attention even in the _Decameron_; and it stands out among the
_Canterbury Tales_.

3. Chrétien de Troyes

A romance of five or six thousand lines, but still selective, was
developed by Chrétien de Troyes.[11] His _Erec_ tells the tale which
Lady Charlotte Guest translated in her _Mabinogion_ as _Geraint the
Son of Erbin_ from a later Welsh version. Enid is stricken with shame
that Geraint’s love of her should run to ignoble fondness. Her lament,
overheard and mistaken by Geraint, rouses his jealous pride to prove her
long and cruelly. This moment the Welsh writer sees in its setting.

And one morning in the summer time they were upon their couch,
and Geraint lay upon the edge of it. And Enid was without sleep
in the apartment, which had windows of glass. And the sun shone
upon the couch. And the clothes had slipped from off his arms
and his breast, and he was asleep. Then she gazed upon the
marvellous beauty of his appearance, and she said, “Alas! and
am I the cause that these arms and this breast have lost their
glory and the warlike fame which they once so richly enjoyed?”
And as she said this, the tears dropped from her eyes, and they
fell upon his breast.[12]

At such a point the Welsh writer’s abundance of description is not merely
pretty; it is fitting. What he thus dwells upon until we must feel it
because we can see it, is an important moment in the story. But in
general he blurs his story by spending equal elaboration on what is quite
subordinate, or even irrelevant. His incidents claim attention equally
in succession; Chrétien’s are lengthened or shortened with a sense of
their narrative values. For Chrétien, relying less on the traditional
picturesque description, has the better narrative. Using descriptive
detail less for itself, he uses it more to bring out character or give
to important moments salience. Instead of merely accumulating adventures
and telling each for what it is worth by itself, as is the habit of the
longer romances, he has selective art enough to bring out those that will
keep attention on the conquest of the proud, selfish devotion of the
husband by the nobler devotion of the wife. And at the end he impresses
the significance of the whole course of adventures, the meaning of the
story as a whole. He discerns, though he does not always achieve, the
narrative force of unified progress.

How far the art of such romances was studied in the middle age appears
again on comparison of the fourteenth-century _Ywain and Gawain_ with
its original, Chrétien’s _Chevalier au Lion_. The Englishman, without
losing anything of the plot, reduces the length one-third by compressing,
modifying, or even omitting Chrétien’s detail. And since Chrétien’s
detail is not merely added for richness, but spent to bring out character
or mood, a change here is a change in the total effect, a shifting of
interest from the persons to the events. Thus to Chrétien the central
situation is this. A widow forced to marry again, as medieval widows
were if they had property, accepts the slayer of her husband. How would
she feel? Might she not, from making a virtue of necessity, come to love
her second husband if he were young and brave? If, tiring of her riches
and ease, he would be off to his wars again, would she forgive him for
breaking his promise to return on a day? And might he not then, learning
from the loss of her to value her truly, devote himself to winning her
back by proving his better manhood? The situation is almost the reverse
of that in _Erec_. Such questions of character and feeling lead Chrétien
to dwell upon the scenes between Ywain and Alundyne, and even to comment
satirically now and then on their mental attitudes. Most of this the
English translator omits.

But that the omissions were deliberate appears in his throwing emphasis
upon what directly furthers the movement of the story. What makes a story
quick and strong he understands so well that he even quickens and varies
Chrétien’s pace by turning some of the indirect discourse into direct
dialogue. Nor was he insensible to Chrétien’s suggestions of character or
mood. At the final revelation, where Chrétien says simply that Alundyne
started (_la dame tresaut_), he renders:

Then went the lady far aback,
And long she stood ere that she spake

(3983-3984).

This is exactly in Chrétien’s habitual manner. Rendering with discernment
and spirit, then, keeping the plan and transitions that hold the tale
together, he bends the story in the direction of his own interest and
skill. He too knows something of narrative art. His simpler, more onward
version throws into relief Chrétien’s superiority not only in delicacy of
verse and style, but in those ampler and finer suggestions of character
which bring out of a situation its deeper narrative values.

The increasing audience for romance invited much mere retelling, many
versions inartistic or even unintelligent. But the scientific study of
sources, while it defines the diffusion of current tales and carries
their history back to folklore and myth, should not blur the history of
medieval narrative art. In the midst of almost impersonal transmission
were both artistic experiment and artistic achievement. Chrétien de
Troyes and a few others have survived by name. Nameless, but no less
convincing, is the narrative art of _Aucassin et Nicolete_, of the
_Chastelaine de Vergi_, of _Gawain and the Green Knight_.

4. Conventional Composition

Generally the artist is less clear, the impersonal processes of
transmission and the conventions of telling clearer, in the long
romances. Adventure, when fairyland was no longer new, was sometimes
supplied by mere aggregation. Love, presented mainly as wooing,
crystallized into the code of _amour courtois_. Chivalry, a motive even
more clearly ideal, could be no less presented as a code. Adventure,
love, chivalry, established as the three habitual motives of romance,
were readily combined in stock forms. Better artists vitalized them by
characterization; but since romance can be composed acceptably without
characterization, its journeywork, medieval or modern, tends to content
itself with types. The hero is “a very perfect gentle knight”; and his
action consists in having many adventures. The heroine is a beautiful
young lady, and needs no action at all. Both may be described at length
without being individualized. Even on these terms, much as they have
always amused satirists, romance may have charm of style and some of the
perennial appeal of youth. But it has no properly narrative vigor. Its
composition tends so easily to repeat that the stock adventures can be
assigned as well to one knight as to another.

In fact, the middle age saw adventures transferred from one hero to
another who had meantime become more popular. Thus Gawain, coming
straight out of fairyland, gradually lost more and more of his glory;
and the process is one of the ways in which there grew up cycles of
romance. The longer Lancelot stories are aggregations of many separate
adventures. One of the best remembered feats in Malory’s compilation is
the three-days’ tournament. Not only is this told of other knights in
other romances; it is found also by itself, as in the tale of Ipomedon.
Some medieval rewriter added it to his Lancelot; and there it stayed.
The Lancelot story was further swelled by adventures formerly ascribed
to Gawain, who had already lost some of his feats to Percival. Even
the winning of the Grail quest, which had early been transferred from
Gawain to Percival, went to Lancelot’s son Galahad. Finally the Lancelot
aggregation was attached to the cycle of Arthur.

Whether or not it was attached to one of the cycles, a conventional long
romance could thus aggregate. _Bevis of Hampton_ or _Guy of Warwick_
might be longer or shorter without the slightest narrative difference.
It is long because it is interminable. Even in better hands the medieval
long romance prevails part by part, as it was read. It was not composed
as a single narrative. Such singleness as the middle age cultivated in
romance must be sought in the parts considered as separate stories,
and will be found oftener in the shorter romances that remained by
themselves. For lack of it the most conventional long romances become
series of typical descriptions. The typical hero, typically equipped
without and within, has one typical encounter after another.

The difference between such aggregative transmission and narrative
progress can be discerned among the many versions of the Grail. A magic
talisman from folklore had been transmuted by the popular emotion focused
at Corpus Christi;[13] but it became a narrative goal only for those with
art enough to conceive the great quest as something more than a series of
adventures. Meeting an earlier form of it in his Balin and Balan, Malory
brought it into no distinct relation to that tragedy. Its recurrence in
his later books is similarly unharmonized and inconclusive. Wolfram von
Eschenbach, also using more than one version, had focused his _Parzival_
sufficiently to give a long romance some movement onward.

C. THE POETIC COMPOSITION OF THE _DIVINA COMMEDIA_

The solitary eminence of Dante is a perpetual reminder of the limits of
any lore of poetic. As for medieval lore, its approach to the _Divina
Commedia_ is hopelessly short. The ultimate reason, of course, for its
inadequacy is that the greatest poetic achievement of the middle age is
far more than medieval. It is for all time even more clearly than the
_Œdipus Rex_ or the _Æneid_ or _Othello_; and like them it derives its
greatness from something beyond poetic.

Nevertheless it is also medieval and also a great achievement of poetic
composition. So to consider it is to discern both more of its greatness
and more of medieval habit. In the current medieval lore the main
lack is seen by contrast to be in the larger movement of composition.
Medieval poetic carries us so short a distance toward the _Divina
Commedia_ because it is preoccupied with style. Vergil is currently
cited and quoted, but usually as an exemplar of the three styles.[14]
Medieval romances carried nationalism back to Troy for centuries without
discerning the larger art of the _Æneid_ in composition. For Dante Vergil
was guide not only in a deeper sense, but also in poetic.

This makes clearer why Dante turned his back on current lore. He knew
that lore, not only the elaborate technic of the troubadours, but the
Latin _poetria_. His ignoring of it is tantamount to an arraignment of
its cardinal weakness. It had too little technic for his main poetic
concern, the movement of the whole. It had too much schoolmasterly
fiddling with words to carry orchestration beyond a few conventional
modes. No one can study the history of poetic without finding this
deficiency exceptional only in degree. In kind it is historic. Here,
again and again, appears the gap between pedagogically formulated poetic
and poetry.

In Dante’s style the medieval _poetria_ is not merely outdistanced;
it is repudiated. Matthieu de Vendôme, Geoffroi de Vinsauf, John the
Englishman, might have tolerated figures of wrestlers and dogs in hell,
but hardly broth, cooks, oxen, and swine. They would have challenged
bellows in purgatory; they would have been shocked at rooks and a
fish-pool in heaven. The decorative descriptions of a rhetoricated poetic
seem nowhere else quite so futile as beside Dante’s figures of precise
geography.

As seems beetling Carisenda, when a cloud goes over it so as to
make it hang the other way, so seemed Antæus to me as I stood
watching to see him bend. I. xxxi. 136.[15]

As that stream which has its own path first from Monte Veso
toward the east on the left coast of Apennine, which is called
Acquaqueta above before it descends to its low bed, and at
Forlì has lost that name, reëchoes there over San Benedetto
from the alp, because its fall has a single leap where for
a thousand should be room, so down an abrupt bank we heard
resounding that turbid water. I. xvi. 94.

As for Paolo and Francesca, Ugolino, and a hundred other passages, with
those single lines that enrich memory,[16] no better praise can be
compassed than Matthew Arnold’s word “touchstones.” They tell us, better
than any definition, what poetry is. But the mere historical significance
of Dante’s luminous precision is its vindication of that true theory
of poetic diction which was formulated in the _De sublimitate_.[17]
The essential character of poetic style is not dilation, which belongs
to rhetoric; it is sublimation. Dante’s extraordinary conciseness,
austere, ascetic, is never bare; it is surcharged. For style too, as
well as for composition, he must have discerned that ancient critic’s
fine distinction: rhetoric and poetic must never be confused; but at high
temperatures they can be welded together.

Poetry conveyed vision oftener, perhaps, in the middle age than in any
other period. _Piers Plowman_ and _Pearl_ carry on in the next century a
persistent medieval preoccupation. The _Divina Commedia_, fulfilling this
aspiration, reveals man’s need, his quest, his attainment, of vision.
“Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God.” Purity remains
negative to those who have no desire to see God. But Dante answers those
for whom it is positive and constructive.

Ye other few, who have lifted up your necks betimes to the
bread of angels, by which men live here, but with which none
cometh away sated. III. ii. 10.

The poetry of this “concreate and perpetual thirst” (III. ii. 19)
animates for all time a whole cosmogony antiquated merely as science, and
communicates the great philosophy of the middle age to the heart. The
_Divina Commedia_ achieved the high quest of the Grail romances. It is
_the_ vision poem.

The heaven of Dante’s vision transcends time and space.

And I was with him; but of my mounting I was no more aware
than is a man, ere his first thought, aware that it is coming.
Beatrice is she who thus discloses from good to better so
instantly that her act has no extent in time. III. x. 34.

Brother, thy high desire shall be fulfilled in the last sphere,
where all the rest are fulfilled, and mine.... For it is not in
space, nor hath it poles, and our ladder attains even so far.
III. xxii. 61.

But it is not reserved for rapt contemplatives.

Of the seraphim he who is most rapt, Moses, Samuel, or that
John whom thou choosest to take, nay, even Mary has not a seat
in another heaven than these spirits who but now appeared
to thee; nor have they to their being more or fewer years;
but all make beauteous the first circle, and have sweet life
differently as they feel more or less the eternal breath. III.
iv. 28.

For the _Divina Commedia_ ranges beyond the lyric exaltation of the
individual poet. It is suffused with social sense, as constantly aware
as the _Piers Plowman_ of the “fair field full of folk,” of the world
of striving men and women. Its vision begins with society gone bad
and frustrating itself; it arrives at society perfectly realized as
immediate intercommunion and interaction. So the Church, the heavenly
society, recurs constantly in communal echoes of hymns and canticles:
_Ave_, _Agnus Dei_, _Benedictus qui venit_, _Salve Regina_. In the same
spirit Cynewulf had composed his _Christ_ upon the seven great antiphons
of Advent.[18] Familiar gospels are recalled. Most frequent echoes,
as of symbols most suggestive of common human experience, are of the
Psalms.[19] The artistic harmony is based upon the medieval conception of
social history as the redemption of mankind.

The word allegory has come to suggest vagueness, or conventionalization,
or fancy. None of these has any place in the _Divina Commedia_.
Allegorical, indeed, it may be called in a sense large enough to include
_Piers Plowman_, the _Faerie Queene_, and the _Pilgrim’s Progress_;
but no other allegory is so large in scope, so consistent and complete
in composition. For such details as the sacred chariot, the eagle,
wolf, and dragon (II. xxxii) we search the carved capitals and the
windows; but including all these and ranging beyond them is the constant
interpretation of the whole sensible, transitory world as typical of the
eternal. Ephemeral matters, politics, even quarrels and grudges (I. xvi.
73), are interpreted permanently. The intensely specific realism is made
constantly to serve idealization. Human life is revealed _sub specie
æternitatis_.

For life beyond is seen as the prolongation of the line that we give to
life here and now. Its motive power throughout is love radiating from
God and leading men back to him. The disturbance of life is sin. The
horror of the _Inferno_ is of sin as perversion. The warpings of life
there tormenting Italians or ancients are typical to the fearsome degree
of revealing our own. Thus the course of the _Divina Commedia_ is of
ideas and principles of action so embodied as to lead emotion on. What
is familiar in lyric is here carried through a whole conception of life.
Theology is translated through vision into emotion and will, as if lyric
were carried through into drama.

Thus the persons are typical, not merely as wearing recognizable costumes
and uttering appropriate sentiments, but more intensely as acting in
our drama. The thieves transformed into serpents, which in turn absorb
them (I. xxv), are thus akin artistically to the sculpture of medieval
capitals. They are not pictorial imitation of the other arts, as are
the conventional descriptive pauses of the _Roman de la Rose_ and the
_poetriæ_; for they are narrated. There is no ecphrasis.[20] The method
is never static. The speaking flames move.

As a little cloud ascends, so moved each flame along the throat
of the chasm, none showing its theft, each stealing away a
sinner. I. xxvi. 39.

Such narrative progress in detail is integral with the progress of the
total symbolism toward culmination. The famous ascent in Paradise moves
both in and by itself and with the movement of the whole.

Now were my eyes fixed again on the face
of my lady, and my mind with them,
and from every other thought were removed.

And she smiled not; but “Were I to smile”,
she began, “thou wouldst fare
as Semele when she turned to ashes;

For my beauty, which up the stair
of the eternal palace kindleth more and more,
as thou hast seen, the higher it ascends,

Were it not tempered, is so radiant
that thy mortal power at its flash
would be foliage shriveled by thunderbolt.”

III. xxi. 1.

In method, as in degree, this is the individual achievement of a great
poet; in kind the symbolism is characteristically medieval. For in
detail and in total conception the _Divina Commedia_ starts not with the
individual event or person, not with Beatrice Portinari,[21] but with the
idea. Whether Dante recalls a youthful love is a question so subordinate
as to be artistically immaterial. He has not sublimated earthly passion
into heavenly. His conception is heavenly from the beginning, and
progressively throughout. He carries a single, controlling idea forward
imaginatively, stage by stage. Each stage is vivid with intensely
specific realism; but this realism, as that of the carved capitals, is
neither the object nor the occasion; it is only the imaginative means
to impress the idea. The idea is constant; it is beginning and end. The
final vision is not transformation; it is conclusion.

Such grasp of poetic movement doubtless owed much to Vergil. Dante’s
homage to the “courteous soul of Mantua” (I. ii. 58) is more than
conventional tribute.

Art thou then that Vergil and that spring which spreads so
large a stream of speech?... O poet’s honor and light, may the
long zeal avail me and the great love which made me search thy
volume. Thou art my master and my author, thou alone he from
whom I took the fair style that hath brought me honor. I. i.
79.[22]

The larger narrative movement of the _Æneid_, which quite escaped the
average medieval romancer, was not lost on so great a composer. Of all
the ancient art available in his time this alone could give him that
instruction. But if the _Æneid_ inspired him with its poetic scope and
reach, and gave him a sense of the poetic energy of onwardness, it did
not prescribe his method. The _Divina Commedia_ is not an imitation of
the _Æneid_. Its movement is both different and more compelling.

For the movement of the _Divina Commedia_ is at once logical and
imaginative, an extraordinary fusion of rhetoric and poetic. The first
canto closes with a forecast of the whole progress.

Lead me where thou hast said, that I may see the gate of St.
Peter. I. i. 134.

Throughout, the progress is so reasoned that it can be mapped and
briefed. None the less the _Divina Commedia_ is a great exemplar of
poetic movement. It arrives not at a demonstration, but at a catharsis.
Its conception, at once constant and widening, is carried forward
imaginatively. We move not from proposition to proposition, but from
scene to scene. The _Faerie Queene_, no less imaginative in detail,
has none of this force of imaginative composition. The _Christ_ in the
earliest middle age, the _Pearl_ in the latest, have far less scope. The
_Divina Commedia_ reveals the whole capacity of medieval symbolism by
sustained poetic movement.

So sustained a movement has no time for the conventional descriptive
pause. In spite of the abundance of its illustrations, the _Divina
Commedia_ is never merely pictorial.[23] Nor is the steady movement
monotonous. The transitions are beautifully various. _Purgatorio_
does not repeat the plan of _Inferno_; and it has more interaction.
As the action advances through _Purgatorio_ into _Paradiso_, there is
increasing exposition of ideas. There is even the Gothic variety that
enlivens the cathedrals. The grotesque devils of the twenty-second canto
of _Inferno_ are brothers to those on the capitals of Vézelay. At the
other pole of sentiment, the eleventh canto of _Purgatorio_ opens with a
poetic amplification of the Paternoster. The fifth canto of _Paradiso_
is Justinian’s summary of the history of Rome. But the variety is never
merely picturesque. Never merely aggregative, the variations of the
_Divina Commedia_ are more like those of Bourges than like those of
Chartres. They are still more like the variations in a symphony.

The logical order fused with this poetic movement is: _Inferno_,
the punishment of self-enslavement; _Purgatorio_, the progress of
self-mastery; _Paradiso_, the rapture of self-expression. From perversion
and frustration we pass through discipline to the liberation of
personality.

Then said my lady, “Let out the heat of thy desire, so that
thy utterance bear the print of the press within; not that our
knowledge may increase by thy speaking, but that thou mayst
learn how to tell thy thirst, that drink be given thee.” III.
xvii. 7.

It is through this liberation of personality that the human drama becomes
divine. “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have
it more abundantly.” For the _Divina Commedia_ is far more than a
vindication of free will; it is a vision of the progressive freeing of
the will. After the terrible revelation of hell as self-enslavement, free
will is asserted from purgatory as essential to divine justice.

Ye who are living refer every occasion only up to heaven, as if
all moved of itself by necessity. Were it so, in you would be
destroyed free will; and it would not be justice to have joy
for good, mourning for evil. II. xvi. 67.

But this liberty is not innate merely as are the physical impulses. God’s
gift of free will is a progressive energizing of man’s struggle to will
higher and higher till he attains perfect freedom.

Now in order that to this [will] every other may be reunited,
innate in you is the virtue that giveth counsel,[24] and ought
to guard the threshold of assent. This is the principle whence
is derived the scheme of desert in you according as it collects
and winnows good loves and guilty. Those whose scheme of life
went to the foundation became aware of this innate liberty, and
so left ethics to the world. III. xviii. 61.

So developed by the mutual response of God and man, free will becomes the
greatest gift (“lo maggior don,” III. v. 19). Heaven is the final release
and achievement of personality.

The culmination is quite beyond what is usually meant by
self-satisfaction. As personality can be progressively released and
achieved only through giving, so the self-expressive joy of _Paradiso_
contributes to the common joy. It is simultaneously giving and receiving,
utterance and response. No longer, as the poet of _Pearl_ discerned again
in the parable of the laborers, is giving and receiving frustrated by
competition. Immediately every joy is the joy of all, every expression of
personality is a gift and a response, in the creative activity of love.

As in a fish-pond that is still and clear the fishes draw to
what so comes from without that they deem it their food, so saw
I more than a thousand radiances draw toward us, and in each
was heard: “Lo! one who will increase our loves.” III. v. 100.

I saw more radiances, living and conquering, make of us a
center and of themselves a corona, sweeter in voice than lucent
to behold. III. x. 64.

The amazing figures in which this triumph is symbolized sum up also
Dante’s poetic: vividness of charged simplicity in expression carried
forward in a composition of progressive movement.

No other single work of medieval art conveys so much of the middle age;
for no other concedes so little to medieval convention. The centuries of
St. Bernard, Adam of St. Victor, and St. Thomas Aquinas, of Chrétien and
the _Roman de la Rose_, of Vézelay and Bourges, like other centuries,
had their artistic conventions. These, as too often in other centuries,
seemed to the makers of manuals to comprise the theory of art. Such
theory needs both correction and expansion from great artists.

D. THE HISTORY OF MEDIEVAL VERSE NARRATIVE IN CHAUCER

Chaucer, more clearly than most poets, shows the whole artistic progress
from expert verse translation through convention accepted and convention
modified to creation. From the _Roman de la Rose_ through his study of
Boccaccio to the _Canterbury Tales_ his work comprehends in itself much
of the history of medieval poetic. He was ahead of his time; that is,
he was artist enough to feel new currents of thought and new ventures
in expression, to bend toward these the received modes, and finally
to enlarge the scope and perfect the technic of medieval narrative.
The Renaissance movement, which he was quick to feel in Italy, he
could not communicate to England. It had to be brought again, and in
different ways. But the art of narrative, most popular of medieval
arts, he led from accepted poetic habits in new directions and to new
achievements. Consummate metrist, he knew what to do in English with
the richer couplet, the more fluent stanza, of Boccaccio. Composition
in the larger sense he learned more slowly. The road is long from the
leisurely conventions of the _Book of the Duchesse_ to the intensity
of the _Pardoner_ and the sustained poetic progress of the _Troilus
and Criseyde_. All the more clearly he illuminates the significance of
previous experiments by revealing what was vital in their technic. For
since he was a studious artist, and even a critic, as well as a genius,
his career epitomizes the progress of medieval verse narrative. Medieval
poetic may fairly be said to end with his death in 1400.

1. Poetic Conventions in the Earlier Poems

The first part of the _Roman de la Rose_, Chaucer’s literary point of
departure, represents the conventions and the mood of the fashionable
fiction of courtly love. Its allegory is simple personification carried
out by costume and attitude, less by speech and action, appropriate to
type. It is less narrative than descriptive. Relying mainly on style, it
has so little vigor of composition that in spite of its great medieval
vogue it has been long dead. Chaucer’s translation shows no small command
of diction and of verse. Though the French octosyllabic and the English
line of four stresses differed less then than later, translation had
much to teach a bilingual poet not only reading, but constantly hearing
and speaking two rhythms. It made him early aware both of the difference
between the two and of the directions of development for the English of
his choice. He has already found variations to evade the tendency of this
short couplet toward jingling monotony; and still more verse control is
evident in his catching one of the chief charms of the original, its easy
fluency.

His own _Book of the Duchesse_ uses the same magazine of courtly love:
rehearsal of a tale of Ovid, May-morning dream-vision, “love’s servant”
in “complaint,” praise of the lady, tapestry description, couplet of
facile fluency. How much poetry could still be conveyed through these
symbols he showed later in the pageant prologue to the _Legend of Good
Women_. Kittredge[25] finds the conventional dream manipulated in the
_Book of the Duchesse_ to give some sense of actual dreaming. Every
attentive reader has been relieved by the realism of the half-grown,
unbroken dog,

A whelp that fauned me as I stood,
That hadde y-folowed, and coude no good.
Hit com and creep to me as lowe,
Right as hit hadde me y-knowe,
Hild doun his heed and joyned his eres,
And leyde al smothe doun his heres.

389-394.[26]

The touch of individualizing stands out, indeed, because most of the
description is conventionally generalized and decorative; but it may be
significant as forecasting Chaucer’s later use of gesture, and as a means
of transition. There is an attempt at variety in the punctuation of the
long praise of the lady by dialogue; and the closing dialogue is really
rapid. An expert metrist in conventional modes, with originality enough
for pleasing variations—we can hardly read more of Chaucer into the _Book
of the Duchesse_. The Ovidian thin lucidity of narrative, the usual
aggregation, the involution, above all the stalling for description, show
that he was not yet giving his mind to narrative composition.

He was spurred to explore narrative by the timely stimulus of
Italy. First of English artists to learn there, he was among the
most responsive. The _Parlement of Foules_ shows immediate artistic
development and promises more. The verse is enriched. The five-stress
line, so near the beginning of its long English history, is realized not
only for variety, but for flexibility to the mood of speech. Most of its
typical variations, shift of cæsura, syncope, doubling of the unstress as
in anapest or dactyl, close on stress or on unstress, are here. Though
there is not yet that narrative fluency which makes the verse constantly
further the story, there is narrative stanza. Stanza, of course, was no
innovation. Such set lyric forms as _balade_ and _rondel_, which were
to hold their popularity into the sixteenth century, were exploring the
technic of refrain. Linking refrain, used simply in verse narrative,[27]
was carried in _Pearl_ to intricate harmonies. In French and in English,
stanza was an assured technic. But its narrative development owes much
to Chaucer. His adaptation of the Italian stanza in the _Parlement of
Foules_ opened the way toward that technical mastery which is one of the
characteristic achievements of his narrative.

The _Parlement of Foules_ shows development thus in detail. The total
composition, the movement of the whole, is still to seek. Here again
are conventional allegory, this time mainly from Alain de Lille,[28]
rehearsal from the medieval treasury, dream-vision, decorative
description, without any narrative progress. But the allegory is vivified
as in _Piers Plowman_. The classes are differentiated by the lively
speech of their representatives. The interaction, though elementary, is
more than mere _débat_. There is even approach to individual character in
distinguishing the second tercel from the first. In these modifications
there is promise[29] of a still more characteristic achievement, the
interludes of the _Canterbury Tales_.

2. Poetic Innovation in _Troilus and Criseyde_

The narrative stanza of _Troilus and Criseyde_ is a technical triumph.
Even the rich harmonies of The _Faerie Queene_ hardly dispute its
eminence; for they are adjusted rather to description. Chaucer’s stanza
is narrative in sure and fluent onwardness. It so furthers the movement
of the story as rarely to invite separate attention, so deftly merges
with the other means of narrative suggestion that its values transpire
not from quoting this stanza or that, but from reading on and on. No
other verse narrative is more satisfying to read aloud. The subtle
harmonies of _Pearl_ are adapted to lyric reflection. The easy movement
of _Childe Harold_ pauses again and again on picturesqueness. A fairer
comparison is Byron’s triumph of fluency, _Don Juan_. Those stanzas
have the same achievement of onwardness where Byron gives himself to
the story. Chaucer’s story, deeper, more consistent, more progressive,
is always his main concern. His distinction is in making his stanza
constantly serve this.

For _Troilus and Criseyde_ carries verse narrative beyond Boccaccio’s
scope and beyond his own habit.[30] Perhaps the challenge of the
_Filostrato_ was the more provocative because he already suspected
the ways of romance. Here was the perennial situation of romance with
a new emphasis. Passion, so little realized in French, was presented
convincingly; and the lover’s complaint was not the conventional tribute
of devotion, but the anguish of disillusionment. Passion, then, left dust
and ashes. The French literary lover had been forever wooing a literary
goddess; the Italian lover, smitten with the beauty of flesh and blood,
won it easily, held it in ecstasy, and could not recover from its loss.
As if divining here something truer, which yet was not the whole truth,
Chaucer planned one of the few great love-stories. What the romances
generally left out of Tristram and Iseult, what only the best of them saw
in Lancelot and Guenevere as motive, was the effect of illicit love on
character. Passion, stronger than _amour courtois_, was it stronger than
the whole social code? And what then? Chaucer lived to present love in
other aspects and in other ways; but first Boccaccio’s story moved him to
carry the passion of the noble and beautiful through to its bitter end.
He composed not at all a French romance, not the lyric Italian story, but
a verse narrative at once so realistic and so dramatic that we naturally
call it a novel.

_Amour courtois_, both conventional and feeble as plot, he relegated to
the setting as one of the fictions of high society. Troilus languishes
appropriately and writes a complaint. Cressid keeps a proper distance.
Pandarus makes allowance for moonshine. What Chrétien had found surely
appealing in social romance, the habit of society itself, is appropriated
as amply as in _Gawain and the Green Knight_. Medieval rendering of all
stories in contemporary terms is here carried into realism. Pandarus,
visiting Criseyde,

... fond two othere ladyes sete and she
Withinne a paved parlour; and they three
Herden a mayden reden hem the geste
Of the Sege of Thebes whyl hem leste.

Quod Pandarus, “Madame, god you see,
With al your book and al the companye.”
“Ey! uncle myn, welcome ywis”, quod she;
And up she roos and by the hond in hye
She took him faste, and seyde, “This night thrye—
To goode mote it turne—of yow I mette.”
And with that word she doun on bench him sette.

II. 81-91.

The dialogue is more than realistic; it gives leads for the story.

Quod tho Criseyde, “Lat me som wight calle.”
“Ey! God forbede that it sholde falle”,
Quod Pandarus, “that ye swich foly wroughte!
They mighte deme thing they never er thoughte.”

III. 760-763.

Description, too, is made to serve the narrative economy. The garden
setting (II. 813) combines with the song of Antigone to turn Criseyde’s
mood, which is then revealed in their brief dialogue. Setting in _Gawain
and the Green Knight_, equally distinct as social background, oftener
picturesque as scenery, is less forwarding, less woven into the texture
of the story. The clue to this advance in poetic is in Chaucer’s
accompaniment of significant speech by significant gesture. He often
indicates the stage “business.”

With this he stente and caste adoun the heed;
And she bigan to breste awepe anoon.

II. 407-408.

Finally dialogue is used to bring a scene to an issue. _Stage business_,
_scene_, _issue_, the terms are not too dramatic for the method of the
passage between Pandarus and Criseyde over the first love-letter.

“But for al that ever I may deserve,
Refuse it nought,” quod he, and hent hir faste,
And in hir bosom the lettre doun he thraste,

And seyde hir, “now cast it away anoon,
That folk may seen and gauren on us tweye.”
Quod she, “I can abyde til they be goon.”
And gan to smyle, and seyde him, “eem, I preye,
Swich answere as yow list yourself purveye;
For trewely I nil no lettre wryte.”
“No? than wol I,” quod he, “so ye endyte.”

Therwith she lough, and seyde, “go we dyne.”

II. 1153-1163.

The scene becomes a situation. The eleven lines are dramatic not only
in presenting the situation as spoken and acted, but in developing by
interaction both character and plot. Chaucer has found how to tell the
whole story of illicit love progressively by revealing in speech and
action not merely type, not merely situation, which had rarely been so
used to its full significance, but character moving to its issue. In this
larger movement, sustained and advanced by progressive characterization,
_Troilus and Criseyde_ is the great medieval love story.

The achievement of creation becomes the more conspicuous on review
of what the story had been.[31] Mere unrelated episodes of the older
sources, mere scattered incidents in Benoît’s huge _Roman de Troie_, had
kindled Boccaccio’s _Filostrato_. Of its 5512 lines Chaucer used 2730,
or about half, but carried his own story to 8239. His addition, most
of the first half of his story, is devoted to the gradual yielding of
Cressid. Boccaccio has no such approach because he has no such person.
His story is of Troilus; and his Cressid, remaining the typical fair
inconstant that he found in Benoît, falls as readily into the arms of
her first lover as into those of her second. Chaucer’s Cressid is the
first great character of English fiction. The characterization, delicate
enough to keep her graciousness even in ruin, and to give the unashamed
materialism of Pandarus engaging frankness and humor, is dynamic. It
gives the story motive. Cressid is always dominant, not in having more
space, but in bringing about before our eyes alike the heartbreak of
Troilus and her own degradation. This is Chaucer’s achievement of
narrative progress. Cressid, we say to ourselves, _would_ yield to
Diomed. But though dominated by Cressid, the movement is of all three
characters interacting, of characterization advancing by stages.[32] Thus
Chaucer’s refocusing is neither modification of Boccaccio’s story nor
such variation as had been already achieved; it is progressive motivation
toward a significant issue.

3. Criticism of the _Poetriæ_

The dramatic interaction effective in _Troilus and Criseyde_ is less
continuous, though no less striking, in the Canterbury interludes. It is
not drama, it remains subordinate to narrative, partly because the time
for drama was not ripe, more because Chaucer knew verse narrative for his
own art. The bent of his genius he followed in both experiment and study.
One of his first technical achievements, the weaving of description into
the action, appears not only in progressive mastery, but also as distinct
theory. Here evidently he discerned as a critic the deviation and the
insufficiency of the poetic that he had learned at school.[33]

Thise olde gentil Britons in hir dayes
Of diverse adventures maden layes
Rymeyed in hir firste Briton tonge,
Which layes with hir instruments they songe,
Or elles redden hem for hir plesaunce;
And oon of hem have I in remembraunce,
Which I shal seyn with good wil as I can.
But, sires, bycause I am a burel man,
At my biginning first I yow biseche
Have me excused of my rude speche.
I lerned never rethoryk certayn;
Thing that I speke, it moot be bare and pleyn.
I sleep never on the mount of Pernaso,
Ne lerned Marcus Tullius Cithero.
Colours ne knowe I none, withouten drede,
But swiche colours as growen in the mede,
Or elles swiche as men dye or peynte.
Colours of rethoryk ben to me queynte.
My spirit feleth noght of swich matere;
But if yow list, my tale shul ye here.

_Franklin’s Prologue_, F. 709-728.

Let me tell an old British tale in my own plain way; for I am unversed
in ornaments of style. This is all that the Franklin’s prologue means
on its surface. The connotation beneath is inviting. Are “aventures,”
“layes,” “rymeyed,” “instruments” intended precisely? How much grasp they
suggest of early medieval poetic is perhaps beyond our determination.[34]
But the term “colours of rethoryk” occurs also in the _Hous of Fame_.
The interlude before the Clerk’s Tale has a sarcasm of the Host against
these same “colours” in the same connection. The Squire’s disclaimer has
the same significant terms as the Franklin’s, and the same point as the
Clerk’s reply to the Host. The satire in the Tale of the Nun’s Priest on
Geoffroi de Vinsauf confirms the suspicion that in all these passages
Chaucer implies specific criticism of the _poetriæ_.

For the language of the Franklin’s prologue, in spite of his disclaimer,
is literary. Chaucer knew as well as Shakspere that he who announces “a
plain, unvarnished tale” may command a better art than the rhetoric that
he disclaims. It is worth while to explore, therefore, the mention of
rhetoric in connection with story-telling, the conjunction of Cicero and
Parnassus. As _Sir Thopas_ parodies not only the conventional motives
of romance, but also particular faults in its conventional technic, so
Chaucer’s references to “colours of rethoryk,” instead of being taken
as general disparagement of grandiloquence, may well be sounded for
their particular significance. In any age, indeed, the man of letters
contemplating the rules of his art laid down by pedagogues is moved to
sarcasm; but Chaucer’s sarcasms may suggest specifically wherein the
pedagogues that he knew went wide of the narrative art that he came to
comprehend as artist and as critic. His reference in the _Hous of Fame_
merely glances at “prolixitee.” The passages in the four Canterbury
tales, ampler and more specific, together suggest that the application of
“colours of rethoryk” to narrative is a perversion, that Cicero is out of
place on Parnassus.

The notion that the citing of “Pernaso” and “Cithero” in the same
breath is meant to exhibit the Franklin as “a burel man” is dispelled
by literary history. Cicero as a master of style had long been invoked
to teach poetry. _Poetria_, as conceived by the medieval manuals,
is essentially elaboration of style.[35] That it is a distinct mode
of composition is never even hinted. Focused on diction and devoted
to elaboration, it draws upon the ancient _colores_ until poetic is
indistinguishable from rhetoric. Either, then, Chaucer is merely
accepting this merger, without particular intention in his “Pernaso”
and “Cithero,” or he is hinting that the very conception hinders
straightforward narrative.

In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the English word _rhetoric_
denoted style generally, whether in prose or in verse. So _rhetor_ or
_rhetorien_ meant master of style, and was freely applied to poets. The
familiar reference to Petrarch, therefore, is usually taken as general
praise.

Fraunceys Petrark, the laureat poete,
Highte this clerk, whos rethoryke swete
Enlumined al Itaille of poetrye.

_Clerk’s Prologue_, E. 31.

Nor should we pause over the conjunction of “rethoryke” and “poetrye,”
were it not identical with that of “Cithero” and “Pernaso.” Even if this
pairing, like that, merely reflects medieval habit without reflecting on
it, the Clerk’s prologue as a whole is sufficiently definite. Repeating
the Host’s term “heigh style,” it goes on to consider Petrarch in this
aspect. The Host had been quite precise.

Your termes, your colours, and your figures,
Kepe hem in stoor til so be ye endyte
Heigh style, as whan that men to kinges write.

_Clerk’s Prologue_, E. 16.

Whether or not “heigh style” is a misappropriation of a phrase of
Petrarch’s, its implication here is both definite and significant.
“As whan that men to kinges write” makes “endyte” refer unmistakably
to _dictamen_.[36] The Host deprecates the perversion of this to the
telling of a tale. His sarcasm is directed not vaguely at grandiloquence,
but specifically at the application of _dictamen_ to story-telling. To
measure its significance, one must read the doctrine pervading _poetria_
and _dictamen_ alike. That doctrine is rhetoric; it is nothing more and
nothing else.

The Clerk, taking up “heigh style,” admits that it is a hindrance in
Petrarch’s descriptive opening.

I seye that first with heigh style he endyteth,[37]
Er he the body of his tale wryteth,
A proheme, in the which discryveth he
Pemond and of Saluces the contree,
And speketh of Apennyn, the hilles hye
That been the boundes of West Lumbardye,
And of Mount Vesulus in special,
Where as the Poo, out of a welle smal,
Taketh his firste springing and his sours,
That estward ay encreseth in his cours
To Emelward, to Ferrare, and Venyse,
The whiche a long thing were to devyse.
And trewely, as to my Iugement,
Me thinketh it a thing impertinent.

_Clerk’s Prologue_, E. 41-54.

What the Clerk is made to challenge here in the application of “heigh
style” to a tale is the separable description. No device for dilation
was more magnified in the _poetriæ_. More than apostrophe, contrast, and
other “colours,” it was inculcated to give poetry what Chaucer’s eagle
calls

gret prolixitee
Of termes of philosophye,
Of figures of poetrye,
Or colours of rethoryke.

_Hous of Fame_, 856-859.

Chaucer’s _bête noire_ of “prolixitee” among these pedagogues was
Geoffroi de Vinsauf; and that brings us to the familiar sarcasms of
the Nun’s Priest.[38] They pursue not merely an ass, but still more a
perverted poetic. Chaucer pillories Geoffrey not merely because the
_Nova poetria_ is an Ovidian nightmare, but because its constant object,
alike in the rules and in the manufactured examples, is to inculcate the
stalling of composition by “colours.”[39]

The separable description challenged by the Clerk is challenged also by
the Squire, and in terms that confirm the significance of the Franklin’s.

A doghter hadde this worthy king also,
That yongest was, and highte Canacee.
But for to telle yow al hir beautee,
It lyth nat in my tonge, n’in my conning.
I dar nat undertake so heigh a thing.
Myn English eek is insufficient.
It moste been a rethor excellent
That coude his colours longing for that art,
If he sholde hir discryven every part.

F. 32-40.

The Squire’s later sarcasm is more open and more constructive. It may
well sum up Chaucer’s criticism of the deviation of poetic by rhetoric.

The knotte, why that every tale is told,
If it be taried til that lust be cold
Of hem that han it after herkned yore,
The savour passeth ever lenger the more
For fulsomnesse of his prolixitee.
And by the same reson thinketh me
I sholde to the knotte condescende,
And maken of hir walking sone an ende.

F. 401-408.

A rhetoricated poetic, though in other mouths than Geoffrey’s it has
often had a fairer sound, is always a perversion. The confusion of poetic
with rhetoric has always tended to obscure the imaginative value to
narrative of onward movement. The medieval pedagogues who reduced the
greatness of Vergil to mastery of all “three styles” of rhetoric would
doubtless have recommended embellishing the eloquences of _Aucassin et
Nicolete_ at the expense of the story, dilating the _Tombeor de Notre
Dame_, and making the _Chastelaine de Vergi_ static. Their conception of
narrative has no room for such composition as makes the Pardoner’s Tale a
fatal sequence.

Even Chaucer is too responsive to the taste of his time to abandon the
accepted means of dilation. Some of his own apostrophes differ from
Geoffrey’s to Friday[40] only in eloquence, not in method. But as early
as the House of Fame he was critically aware of the “prolixitee” inherent
in “colours of rethoryk.” The interpolated description, which he had
elaborated to make the Knight’s Tale magnificent,[41] he parodied in
_Sir Thopas_ and challenged through the Clerk and the Squire. In these
passages he reminds us that his achievement of narrative composition had
taught him to distrust rhetoric as a means of enhancing when the tale,
Pardoner’s, Squire’s, or Franklin’s, was really the thing. Further he
implies general denunciation of the staleness and ineptitude of medieval
rhetoric as poetic method.

4. The Poetic of the _Canterbury Tales_

Within the Canterbury frame narrative composition is widely various. The
early tale of the Man of Law follows the pattern of a saint’s legend;
the Clerk’s is rather iterative than progressive. In such cases Chaucer
has not recomposed; he has limited his art to style. What distinction he
could achieve even so is most conspicuous in the exquisite tale of the
Prioress. Without crisis, without even salience of moment, with no more
reshaping than the shift of focus from the horror of ancient superstition
to the beauty of childlike devotion, he wrought by adjustment of tone and
cadence a marvel of simplicity. The Merchant infuses into his _fableau_
realistic suggestions of senile sexuality; but the _fableaux_ generally,
Miller’s, Reeve’s, etc., are told in their typical form for their typical
values. Beast epic in the mouth of the Nun’s Priest, never livelier
and seldom so rich in suggestion, is little reshaped as a story. Even
the Wife of Bath tells her fairy mistress tale without originality of
composition.

The artistic interest of the narrative couplet in the Knight’s Tale has
been heightened by Dryden. Beneath the superficial differences which mark
each verse with its time is a difference of conception. Chaucer’s time
gave him easier variations; but he himself bent them narratively. The
larger movement of the Knight’s Tale conveys the magnificence of princely
chivalry less in action than in pageantry. Romance as story was not for
Chaucer, one might say but for the tale of the Franklin. Here he shapes a
plot complementary to that of _Troilus and Criseyde_ in briefer compass,
but with equal onwardness. The issue again is convincing because it is
reached by distinct stages. The fourth, for instance, culminates upon the
squire’s desperate triumph.

Doth as yow list; have your biheste in minde;
For quik or deed, right ther ye shul me finde.
In yow lyth al, to do me live or deye;
But wel I woot the rokkes been aweye.

F. 1385-1338.

And the next begins:

He taketh his leve; and she astonied stood.
In al hir face nas a drope of blood.

F. 1339-1340.

The crisis upon Dorigen’s taking all to her husband, thus fulfilling her
character while she flies in the face of the code of secrecy, is rendered
in dialogue of sharp interaction.

“Is ther oght elles, Dorigen, but this?”
“Nay, nay”, quod she, “God help me so, as wis;
This is to muche, and it were Goddes wille.”
“Ye, wyf”, quod he, “lat slepen that is stille.
It may be wel, paraventure, yet to-day.
Ye shul your trouthe holden, by my fay!
For God so wisly have mercy on me,
I hadde wel lever ystiked for to be,
For verray love which that I to yow have,
But if ye sholde your trouthe kepe and save.
Trouth is the hyeste thing that man may kepe.”
But with that word he brast anon to wepe.

F. 1469-1480.

No less eloquent is her reply to the squire at their meeting.

[He] asked of hir whiderward she wente.
And she answerde, half as she were mad,
“Unto the gardin, as myn housbond bad,
My trouthe for to holde, allas! allas!”

F. 1510-1513.

Such passages, as in _Troilus and Criseyde_, are narrative leads. The
last leads directly to the squire’s fine renunciation; for the tale of
generosity has been embodied in individuals working out its issue. Even
the illusion of the rocks is lifted above magic because they were first
an obsession of the anxious wife. An _exemplum_ and a tale of marvel have
been reconceived and recomposed in a moving story.

No triumph of Chaucer’s is more evident than the art of narrative
swiftness in the tale of the Pardoner. Verse narrative has nothing
more seizing, more breathless, more fatal. Yet even this is no greater
than the art that reveals the Pardoner himself. The tale is no more
triumphant than the interlude and the prologue. Rather they belong
together. So the ordinary romance told by the Wife of Bath is heard
amid the echoes of her brutal realism. The familiar story of the cock
and the fox takes both color and shape from the Nun’s Priest. Readers
opening their _Canterbury Tales_ for the second time, or the third or
the tenth, are as likely to turn to an interlude as to a tale. Even an
adequate account of the poetic of every tale would fall short of the
total artistic value. For the interludes play a part in a scheme more
ambitious than any other medieval “framework”. Gower’s plan in the
_Confessio Amantis_ is no more than a classified series. The preface
to the _Decameron_ proposes “a hundred tales ... told in ten days by a
noble company of seven ladies and three youths in the time of the late
pestilence ... in the which tales appear pleasant or rude chances of love
and other incidents of fortune happening as well in modern times as in
ancient.” After describing the plague in Florence, the “noble company”,
and the fair country house to which they withdrew for safety, Boccaccio
makes each of his ten persons tell a tale each day on the same general
theme. Thus he arranges ten groups of ten tales each, with charming
interludes of conversation, song, and description. But only the charm
of style saves the connective from monotony. The narrators are merely
mouthpieces; the interludes are not used, as by Chaucer, to bring about
contrast and interchange; the setting, though more attractive than the
allegorical fiction of the _Confessio Amantis_, is merely repeated with
variations. The ancient plan of _The Seven Sages_ remains inflexible
through all the versions. The king, stayed by the tale of the first
sage, finds the queen in tears, and is won back by her counter-tale to
reaffirm his sentence on the prince. With mere variation of the dialogue
this scene is repeated six times. Instead of being always different, as
in the _Canterbury Tales_, the interlude is always substantially the
same. Not only are the tales generally alike in form, being all by the
necessity of the plan _exempla_, but the plan itself is little more than
a vehicle.

The scheme of the _Canterbury Tales_ is at once more flexible and larger
in scope. The fiction of a traveling company offers more opportunity than
that of a confession, a trial, or even a house-party. But further the
interludes, instead of being pauses, whether pleasant as Boccaccio’s or
tedious as Gower’s, act upon the tales. They add an individualized teller
in action and interaction. The parody romance of _Sir Thopas_ gains in
point by the rude interruption of the host. Revenge for this may be meant
as excuse for the dulness of the following prose morality. At any rate,
the host’s rueful comparison between the wife of Melibeus and his own,
and the domestic comedy of Chantecler and Pertelote, suggest cues for the
marvelous prologue of the Wife of Bath; and her tale opens the way for
other _maistrye_ of women in marriage.[42] Though the grouping remains
conjectural because the scheme remained incomplete and the manuscripts
do not agree in the order, there is no doubt that Chaucer projected a
larger technic of dramatic setting. The general prologue describes each
teller by summary indications of make-up, costume, and personal style,
not in order to review medieval social classes, but to prepare for the
various interaction of the interludes. Far from exemplifying Chaucer’s
descriptive habit, it is specifically adjusted to a list of _dramatis
personæ_.

Medieval verse narrative was recited or read aloud. Chaucer had learned
early that setting need not interrupt its oral course. Making description
run instead in that course, he had learned further that inanimate
background is both less tractable orally and less significant narratively
than the environment of men and women. Dialogue, the most oral means of
liveliness, he pointed by gesture, and from mood and emotion advanced it
to interaction. Finally he staged his tales by characterizing the tellers
and suggesting their interplay with an audience. Though this is not often
carried out so dramatically as with the Pardoner, it is evident as a
narrative scheme. For the “framework” of the _Canterbury Tales_ is human.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] For Anglo-Saxon epic see above, Chapter V. E.

[2] For the Prose Edda as “a textbook for apprentice poets” see A.
G. Brodeur’s introduction to his translation (New York, 1916), which
includes the _Skáldskaparmál_ entire, and Gustav Necker’s introduction to
his German translation (Jena, 1925, vol. 20 of the series _Thule_). Parts
of the _Skáldskaparmál_ are included in R. B. Anderson’s translation,
_The Younger Edda_, Chicago, 1880.

[3] “Nulle intention littéraire, nul souci de l’effet ne gâtent l’absolue
simplicité du récit. Le style, tel quel, purement déclaratif, ne
s’interpose pas entre l’action et les vers.” Lanson, _Histoire de la
littérature française_, 25.

[4] For this see Faral, _Les arts poétiques du xiie et du xiiie siècle_,
93-97.

[5] Edited for the Camden Society by Thomas Wright, London, 1850;
reëdited by Montague Rhodes James in Anecdota Oxoniensia, Oxford, 1914;
translated and edited by James, Lloyd, and Hartland, London, 1923; by
Tupper and Ogle, London, 1924. See Hinton in _Studies in Philology_, 20:
448 (Oct., 1923).

[6] See the _exemplum_ quoted above, page 246.

[7] References are to the books and _distinctiones_ into which the
collection was grouped by some compiler, evidently not by Walter himself.

[8] The charm of Marie’s _lais_ as poetry is suggested by the metrical
versions of F. B. Luquiens, New York, 1911, which has a bibliography and
a valuable introduction. There are several prose translations.

[9] The appendix of adventures in _Aucassin et Nicolete_ seems to be
a later addition, not part of the original composition. Among the
translations, Andrew Lang’s keeps its distinction.

[10] Translation by Alice Kemp-Welch, London, 1903, with the French text.

[11] Prose translation of _Erec_, _Cligés_, _Yvain_, and _Lancelot_ by
W. W. Comfort, Everyman’s Library, 1914, with introduction, notes, and
bibliography. The fourteenth-century English translation of _Yvain_
(_Ywain and Gawain_) has been edited by G. Schleich with study of its
relation to the original, Oppeln and Leipzig, 1887.

[12] Lady Charlotte Guest, _The Mabinogion_ (1877), 162.

[13] See note 52 to Chapter VII, and Lizette A. Fisher, _The Mystic
vision in the Grail legend and in the Divine Comedy_, New York, 1917
(Columbia University Press).

[14] Book II of Dante’s unfinished _De vulgari eloquentia_ has several
passages suggestive of the preoccupations of his time and of his own
bent: “Si poesim recte consideremus: quæ nihil aliud est quam fictio
rethorica musicaque composita” (III, page 393 of the Oxford 1 vol.
text of the Works); “magister noster Horatius” (_ibid._); “grandiosa
modo vocabula sub prælato stilo digna consistere....” (VII. 395);
“ornativa vero dicimus omnia polysyllaba....” (VII. 396); “tota igitur
ars cantionis circa tria videtur consistere: ... cantus divisionem ...
partium habitudinem ... numerum carminum et syllabarum” (IX. 397).

For the three styles, see the indexes to ARP and to this volume.

[15] The references are to book, canto, and line. I refers to _Inferno_;
II, to _Purgatorio_; III, to _Paradiso_. The translations are adapted
from the convenient and familiar edition in Temple Classics.

[16] Tanto vilmente nel eterno esilio. I. xxiii. 125.

La concreata e perpetua sete. III. ii. 19.

E la sua volontate è nostra pace. III. iii. 85.

Non fu dal vel del cor giammai disciolta. III. iii. 117.

[17] See ARP, 128.

[18] See the introduction to Cook’s edition, Boston, 1900.

[19] See above, page 240.

[20] For ecphrasis, see the index.

[21] For the demonstration of this see Gratia Eaton Baldwin, _The new
Beatrice, or the virtue that counsels_, New York, Columbia University
Press, 1928.

Neglect of this medieval habit has hindered the interpretation of
_Pearl_. See the study of it by Sister M. Madaleva, New York, 1925.

[22] The passage refers specifically, though not in the usual medieval
terms, to Vergil’s diction. So do I. ii. 67, “la tua parola ornata”; and
II. vii. 16, “O gloria de’ Latin ... per cui mostrò ciò che potea la
lingua nostra.”

There are many references and allusions to specific passages; e.g., to
the fourth Eclogue, often interpreted symbolically in the middle age, in
II. xxii. 70; to Dido’s “Agnosco veteris vestigia flammæ” (_Æn._ IV. 23),
in II. xxx. 48.

Justinian’s vision of Rome in III. vi may be said to carry out the idea
of the _Æneid_ in having the same Romanism.

[23] See above, page 271. The sculptured reliefs in II. x, though
doubtless reminiscent, as many a medieval ecphrasis, of the wall-pictures
in Dido’s palace, are _exempla_, not decoration.

[24] See note 21 above. I owe to this book the interpretation of Dante’s
intention as the progressive freeing of the will.

[25] _Chaucer and his poetry_, Cambridge, 1915, page 58.

[26] A similar touch is added in the English _Ywain and Gawain_.

He bad his lyoun go to rest;
And he laid him sone onane
Doun byfore tham everilkane.
Bitwene his legges he layd his tail,
And so biheld to the batayl.

2592-2596.

[27] Lecoy de la Marche quotes from a versified morality on the Blessed
Virgin a passage exemplifying simple use of linking refrain.

Ne trova pas l’angeles vostre cuer vain ne vole,
Quand il semma an vos la saintisme parole;
Ne li fiz Deu meismes ne vos tint pas a fole,
Quant il sor totes femmes vos retint a s’escole.

A sor vos retint li verais gloriox ...

_La chaire française au moyen âge_, 284.

Thus it is used in the stanzaic _Morte Arthur_.

...
Lancelot sayd: “yiff I sayd nay,
I were wele worthy to be brent.

Brent to bene worthy I were”
...

3696-3698.

[28] _De planctu naturæ_, translated by D. M. Moffat, New York, 1908
(Yale Studies in English).

[29] “We have already here some of that variety of tone, that dramatic
briskness, that air of gaiety mingled with romance.” Legouis, _Chaucer_,
85.

[30] “From Italy, and primarily I think from Dante, came the inspiration
to tell the story of Troilus in the _bel stilo alto_, to write in the
vernacular with the dignity and elevation which mark the great ancients.”
Root, _The book of Troilus and Criseyde ..._ Princeton University Press,
1926, page xlv.

[31] For Chaucer’s sources see the critical summary in the introduction
to Root’s edition (Princeton University Press, 1926) and the
bibliography, pages 567-569.

[32] Price finds the movement typically dramatic: rising action with
suspense and complication to the climax in Book III, peripety in the
exchange of prisoners, falling action in the yielding to Diomed,
conclusion on the despair and death of Troilus. PMLA 11 (1896): 307-322.

[33] For Chaucer’s knowledge of the _poetriæ_ see J. M. Manly, _Chaucer
and the rhetoricians_, Warton Lecture on English Poetry XVII (read June
2, 1926), printed in Proceedings of the British Academy.

The following pages on Chaucer’s criticism of the _poetriæ_ are adapted
from my _Cicero on Parnassus_, PMLA 42: 106-112 (March, 1927).

For the _poetriæ_ see above, Chapter VII. B.

[34] It is advanced, however, by Tatlock’s interpretation of the evidence
as suggesting rather Chaucer’s adoption of the “lay” as a literary
form than his use of a particular “lay” as a source (_The Scene of the
Franklin’s Tale Visited_, London, Chaucer Society, 1914).

Skeat notes the reminiscence of the prologue (appearing in better
manuscripts as an epilogue) to the _Satires_ of Persius.

Nec fonte labra prolui caballino,
nec in bicipiti somniasse Parnaso
memini, ut repente sic poeta prodirem.

[35] See above, Chapter VII. B.

[36] The “heigh style” in the Squire’s joke may have the same reference.

Accordant to his wordes was his chere,
As techeth art of speche hem that it lere.
Albeit that I can nat soune his style,
Ne can nat climben over so heigh a style,
Yet seye I this, as to commune entente,
Thus muche amounteth al that ever he mente.

F. 103-108.

For _dictamen_ see above, Chapter VIII.

[37] If _endyteth_ here also refers to _dictamen_, Chaucer is underlining
Petrarch’s rhetoric. But the word is not necessarily technical.

[38] B. 4537, seq.

[39] The reference to romance which follows the Nun’s Priest’s sarcastic
dilation of truisms suggests that here too, as well as in the direct
reference to Geoffrey, Chaucer was glancing at rhetorication of narrative.

God woot that worldly joye is sone ago;
And if a rethor coude faire endyte,
He in a cronique saufly mighte it wryte,
As for a sovereyn notabilitee.
Now every wys man lat him herkne me.
This storie is also trewe, I undertake,
As is the book of Launcelot de Lake.

B. 4396-4402.

Perhaps also he was thinking of Geoffrey’s dilation on the instability of
“worldly joye” (277-291, _Quid gaudia tanta_).

[40] “O Veneris lacrimosa dies!” 375. Chaucer’s reference is at B 4531.
The Pardoner’s apostrophes (C 512, 534, 551, 895) are subtly tinged, as
everything else that he says, with demagogy. Those of the Nun’s Priest
(B 4416, 4529), of course, are played flat. But in other places (E 2056,
2242, G 1076) Chaucer’s use of this “colour” seems conventional.

[41] The rehearsal of all the conventionally appropriate _loci_ of
description at the funeral of Arcite (A 2919-2966) sounds to modern ears
impatient, if not sarcastic. But, after all, the whole long passage is
the “colour” _occupatio_ (præteritio). The shorter _occupatio_ in the
Squire’s Tale (F 63-75) suggests sarcasm less by itself than in its
connection with lines 32-40 and 401-408 quoted above.

[42] See W. W. Lawrence in _Modern Philology_, 11: no. 2 (October,
1913), with his references to Kittredge and Tatlock; and for a summary
of considerations of the order of the tales, R. K. Root, _The poetry of
Chaucer_, 153-159.

SYNOPTIC INDEX

[For further references see the alphabetical index following.]

MEDIEVAL RHETORIC
A. SOURCES
I. Inheritance of _declamatio_, as typically through Sidonius, 77-87
II. Authorities
1. _De inventione_ (_rhetorica prima_), 89, 152, 175
2. _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ (_rhetorica secunda_), 90, 181
3. _Ars poetica_, 86, 88, 129, 159
4. (secondary) Martianus Capella, 92-95, 179, 193
5. (occasional) Cicero, _De oratore_, 143; Quintilian, 169, 175
B. FIELDS [Of the three ancient fields, deliberative, forensic, and
occasional, the characteristically medieval use was of the
third.]
I. _Dictamen_, 206-227
II. _Preaching_, 51-73, 228-257
C. COMPONENTS
I. Investigation (_inventio_) largely transferred to _dialectica_
(which see, and also _judicium_, _status_, _topica_), 172,
182, 192
1. _inventio_ perverted, 187, 191
II. Order (_dispositio_) little taught, 171, 180, 196; perverted,
179
1. conventional items for encomium, 30-32, 187
2. natural order and artistic, 180
3. traditional parts
a. exordium (in _dictamen_), 215, 221
b. statement (_narratio_, in _dictamen_), 215, 222
(1) _narratio_ perverted to narrative, 193
(2) _fabula_, _historia_, _argumentum_, 161, 175
c. argument (_confirmatio_, _refutatio_) largely transferred
to _dialectica_
(1) _petitio_ (in _dictamen_), 215, 222
d. conclusion, 222
III. Style (elocutio)
1. diction
a. three styles (_tenue_, _medium_, _grande_), 68, 144, 216
(1) _Rota Virgili_, 192
(2) high style, 270, 292
b. elegance (with review of correctness), 82, 216
c. aptness
(1) conformity to type, 35, 159, 187
(2) in _dictamen_, especially important for _salutatio_, 220,
221
d. elaboration (_ornatus_, _dignitas_), 79, 82, 216, 219
(1) descriptive dilation (through _poetria_), 85, 174, 180,
186, 294
(2) figures (in _poetria_ and _dictamen_) from _Rhetorica
ad Herennium_
(a) _figuræ verborum_
1. _repetitio_, initial repetition
2. _conversio_, end repetition
3. _complexio_, 1 with 2
4. _traductio_, iteration
5. _contentio_, antithesis
6. _exclamatio_, exclamation
7. _interrogatio_, summary challenge
8. _ratiocinatio_, questioning oneself
9. _sententia_, apothegm
10. _contrarium_, putting the opposite
11. _membrum_, clause in relation
12. _articulus_, staccato
13. _continuatio_, closing series
14. _compar_, balance
15. _similiter cadens_, rime on inflections
16. _similiter desinens_, rime
17. _annominatio_, word-play
18. _subiectio_, suggestion of reply
19. _gradatio_, linking repetition
20. _definitio_, definition
21. _transitio_, linking summary
22. _correctio_, substitution
23. _occupatio_ (_occultatio_, _præteritio_) specifying
under cover of passing over
24. _disiunctio_, syntactical separation
25. _coniunctio_, syntactical combination
26. _adiunctio_, salient key-word
27. _conduplicatio_, iteration
28. _interpretatio_, repetition in other words
29. _commutatio_, chiasmus
30. _permissio_ (_concessio_), yielding
31. _dubitatio_, feigned hesitation
32. _expeditio_, logical exclusion
33. _dissolutio_, asyndeton
34. _præcisio_ (_aposiopesis_), unfinished sentence
35. _conclusio_, syllogistic summary
[the ten _tropi_]
36. _nominatio_, onomatopœia
37. _pronominatio_, title or epithet for name
38. _denominatio_, metonymy
39. _circuitio_, periphrasis
40. _transgressio_, hyperbaton
41. _superlatio_, hyperbole
42. _intellectio_, synecdoche
43. _abusio_, catachresis
44. _translatio_, metaphor
45. _permutatio_, allegorical or ironical allusion
(b) _figuræ sententiarum_
1. _distributio_, itemizing
2. _licentia_, boldness
3. _diminutio_, disparagement
4. _descriptio_, descriptive detail
5. _divisio_, dilemma
6. _frequentatio_, cumulation
7. _expolitio_, iteration
8. _sermocinatio_, direct discourse
9. _commoratio_, iteration
10. _contentio_, antithesis
11. _similitudo_, simile
12. _exemplum_, instance
13. _imago_, comparison
14. _effictio_, portrait
15. _notatio_, ethopœia
16. _conformatio_, prosopopœia
17. _significatio_, suggestion, insinuation
18. _brevitas_, rapid narration
19. _demonstratio_, ecphrasis
2. sentence movement (_compositio_), 83, 216
a. _prosaicum_ (_epistolare_), _metricum_, _rhythmicum_, 220
b. _stilus Aurelianensis_, _Hilarianus_, _Isidorianus_,
_Romanus_, _Tullianus_, 194, 217
c. _distinctiones_
(1) _dependens_ (_cæsum_), 218
(2) _constans_ (_membrum_), 218
(3) _periodus_ (_circuitus_), 219
d. euphony, 83, 218, 221
e. balance, 42-48, 80, 145, 252
(1) prose rime, 252, 253
(2) refrain, 254-257
f. cadence, 69, 70, 250
(1) _cursus_: _planus_, _tardus_, _velox_, 223-227
IV. Delivery (237) and V. Memory (163) little discussed

MEDIEVAL POETIC
A. POETICA IN SCHOOL
I. _Prælectio_, 88, 129, 160-164
II. Metric and Verse-writing, 87, 96, 129, 131, 184
1. coöperative and cumulative school verse, 141, 191
2. merging of poetic with rhetoric, 76, 186, 193
a. doctrine from _Ars poetica_, 86, 159
b. figures from _Rhetorica ad Herennium_ (see above)
III. Kinds of Poetry, 131, 175
B. LATIN POETRY
I. Ambrosian Development, 116-118, 132
II. _Corde natus_ Development, 119-121, 134, 201
III. Other Hymn Measures, 121, 122, 136-141
IV. Dactylic and Spondaic Effects, 122, 137, 198
V. Rime and Stanza, 141, 197-203
C. SYMBOLISM
I. Allegory, 92, 104, 172, 173
II. Type, Prefiguration, Mysticism, 120, 124, 203-205, 239-245,
273-276
D. VERNACULAR NARRATIVE
I. Epic: Germanic (intensive), 145-149; French (extensive), 259, 260
II. Romance
1. conventions of composition, 196, 261, 267, 281
2. salience and movement, 263, 268, 269, 275-277, 297
a. dialogue, 266, 286
3. characterization, 265-267, 287-289, 298
III. Oral Values and Habits, 245, 285, 301

GENERAL INDEX

Abbo of Fleury, 130, 144

Abelard, 138, 167

_Abjiciamus_, 236

Abrahams, P., 141

_abusio_, 305

accentual verse, 107-123, 133, 141, 148, 184, 189, 190, 191, 194,
195, 197-205, 220, 226, 281

_accentus_, 219

Achard of St. Victor, 252

Adam of St. Victor, 201-204

_Adesto, Christe, vocibus_, 133

_adjunctio_, 304

_Adnue, Christe, sæculorum Domine_, 136

_Adoro te devote_, 205

Advent antiphons, 203, 273

Æsop, 23, 190

_Agnus et leo, mitis et terribilis_, 136

Alain de Lille (Alanus de Insulis), 79, 104, 172-174, 175, 189, 190,
238, 239, 241, 254, 284

Alberic of Monte Cassino, 214, 219, 223

Alcuin, 127, 128, 130, 136, 140, 142

_Ales diei nuntius_, 117

Alexandre de Villedieu, 184-186, 190, 198, 219

Alexandrianism, 19, 20

allegory, 92, 104, 130, 172, 173, 174, 185, 237, 240, 273

_Alleluia, dulce carmen_, 135

Allen, P., 184

alliteration, 44, 47, 105, 144, 145, 148

allusion, 40, 77, 79-82, 86

Alphorabius, 175

Ambrose, St., 56, 71, 102, 107, 108, 116, 123, 125, 137, 250

Ambrosian hymns, 111, 112, 116, 117

Ameringer, T. E., 1, 17

Ammianus, 22

_amour courtois_, 267, 281, 282, 286

_anagoge_, 237, 240

Anderson, R. B., 259

_Angularis fundamentum_, 134

_annominatio_, 43, 304

Anselm, St., 151, 152, 229, 254

Anthony, St., of Padua, 234, 249

_Anticlaudianus_ (Alain de Lille), 79, 104, 172-174, 189, 190

antithesis, 6, 43, 47, 80, 81, 237, 252, 294, 304, 305

_apangelticon_, 131

Aphthonius, 23, 31

_Apollonii_, _Gesta_, 141

_apostrophe_, 42, 188, 239, 296

_Apotheosis_ (Prudentius), 105

_Apparebit repentina_, 111, 119

appropriateness to type, 33, 35, 78, 83, 159, 187, 191, 194, 215,
220, 235, 261, 268, 274, 281, 284

aptness, 54, 62, 64, 78, 159, 162, 187, 191, 194, 214, 215, 216, 219,
220

Aquila Romanus, 95

Aquinas, St. Thomas, 202, 204, 205, 229

Arabic versions, 153, 175

archaism, 40, 65, 86, 100, 110, 227, 250

_argumentum_, 161, 175, 193, 222, 260

Aristotle, 3-6, 8, 18, 39, 42, 48, 66, 88, 90, 93, 97, 98, 100, 132,
151, 165, 167, 168, 170, 171, 173, 177, 178, 182, 230, 238, 249

Arnim, H. von, 8

Arnold, M., 271

Arnold, T., 144

_ars notaria_, 213

_Ars Poetica_; see Horace

_Ars versificatoria_ (Matthieu de Vendôme), 185-187, 190

_artes liberales_, 91, 92, 95, 96, 128, 153, 155, 158-161, 172-181,
189, 245

_articulus_, 304

_A solis ortus cardine_, 106

_Assint nobis sublimia_, 133

Atticism, 9, 41

_attributa_, 187

Aubry, P., 112, 113, 183, 201, 204

_Aucassin et Nicolete_, 261, 263, 267, 295

_Auctores_, 189, 190

_Audi me, Deus, peccatorem_, 136

_Audite, fratres, famina_, 133

_Audite, omnes amantes_, 114

Augustine, St., 17, 41, 43, 51-73, 88, 123, 130, 141, 143, 164, 190,
194, 252

_Aurelianensis_, _stilus_, 194, 195, 208, 217, 223, 226

Ausonius, 75-78, 89

_Ave, Maria, salvatoris_, 220

_Ave, maris stella_, 135

Baker, W. J. V., 51

_balade_, 283

balance, 6, 21, 42-48, 54, 61, 76, 80, 81, 83, 144, 194, 251-254

Baldwin, G. E., 275

_Bangor antiphonary_, 113, 118, 120, 122

Barry, Sister M. Inviolata, 18, 43, 51, 52, 70

Basil, St., 22

_Bataille des sept arts_, 181

_Battle of Lewes_, 198

Baudry de Bourgeuil, 141, 197

Bec, 151, 152

Becker, H., 38

Bede, 105, 110-112, 117, 119, 120, 123, 127, 128, 130, 131, 133, 145,
151, 175, 185, 193

_Benchuir bona regula_, 115

Bene of Florence, 213

Bene of Lucca, 213

_benevolentiæ captatio_, 215, 221, 238

Benoît, 288

_Beowulf_, 145-147

Bergman, J., 104, 105

Bernard of Chartres, 160, 162-164, 167, 168, 171

Bernard, St. of Clairvaux, 229, 232, 236, 242, 243, 248, 250-252,
254-257

Bernard of Morlaix, 109, 198-200

Bernard Silvester, 153, 190

bestiaries, 235, 236

_Bevis of Hampton_, 268

Bickersteth, C., 51

Blume, C., 99, 107, 113-115, 117, 120, 122, 123, 126, 136, 183

Boccaccio, 263, 280, 281, 285, 286, 288, 289, 299

Boethius, 88, 98, 100-103, 108, 121, 122, 129, 131, 137, 141, 151,
153, 155, 165, 173

Boissier, G., 74

Bologna, 208

Bonaventure, St., 176-178

Boncompagno, 212, 213

Bonnard, Fourier, 154

Bordeaux, 9, 75-78

Bornecque, H., 206

Boulanger, A., 1, 8, 9, 10, 13, 23, 41

Bourgain, L., 228, 229, 232, 234, 236, 241, 247, 248, 254

breastplate verses (_lorica_), 121, 133

_brevitas_, 305

Britt, M., O. S. B., 99, 183

Brodeur, A. G., 259

Browne, Sir Thomas, 46

Brunetto Latini, 178-182, 189, 193

Bunyan, 229, 245, 246

Burgess, T. C., 1, 17, 21, 31, 33, 40

Butow, A., 206

Byrne, M. J., 75

Byron, 285

cadence, 48, 49, 54, 61, 63, 69, 79, 83, 95, 144, 145, 163, 194, 218,
223-227

Cæsarius of Arles, 117

_cæsum_ (_incisum_, _comma_), 61, 218

_cæsura_, 103, 119, 122, 148, 197, 199, 283

Campbell, J. M., 1, 9, 22, 43

_Candelabrum_, 213, 214, 216-223, 226

_Cantemus in omni die_, 135

_Carmen de S. Liudgero_ (Uffing), 141

_Carmen paschale_ (Sedulius), 106

Carolingians, 126-149, 151

Carré, G., 184, 190

Cassiodorus, 90, 92, 95

catachresis, 185, 305

cathedral schools, 127, 151

_Cathemerinon_ (Prudentius), 104, 119, 137

_Cathonet_ (_Distichs of Cato_), 190

Chabaille, P., 178

Chaix, L. A., 78

Chambers, R. W., 145, 147

chancery, Papal, 223

_chanson de geste_, 259-260

characterization, 34, 187, 245, 261, 265-267, 287-289, 298

Chartres, 89, 95, 130, 151-153, 160, 162-164, 168, 184, 237

Chase, W. J., 87

_Chastelaine de Vergi_, 263, 267, 295

Chaucer, 16, 109, 188, 196, 245, 246, 260, 261, 263, 280-301

_chiasmus_, 47

Chrétien de Troyes, 196, 261, 264-267, 286

_chria_, 26

_Christ_ (Cynewulf), 273, 277

_Christe, redemptor omnium_, 113

_Christe, salvator hominis_, 136

Christopher, J. P., 51

Cicero, 6, 39, 42, 43, 48, 51, 54, 55, 56, 60, 65, 68, 87-90, 93, 94,
97, 142, 143, 152, 153, 156, 157, 160, 161, 168, 174, 175, 178,
181, 189, 192, 193, 214, 217, 227, 291, 292

_circuitio_, 305

_circuitus_ (period), 61, 219

Cistercians, 172, 233

_Claras laudes ac salubres_, 134

Clark, A. C., 206, 223, 224

Clark, J. M., 126

Claudian, 100, 105, 113, 152

_clausula_ (cadence), 48, 49, 54, 79, 95, 144, 145, 163, 174
—(sentence), 218

Clerval, A., 130, 150-153, 156, 158, 160, 206, 237, 247

climax, 45, 47, 49, 61

_cœnon_, 132

cogency, 7, 20, 21, 39, 57, 70, 247-249

_collatio_, 231

_Collationes in hexaëmeron_ (St. Bonaventure), 177

collects, cadence in, 225

_colon_ (_membrum_), 61, 218

_colores_, 152, 161, 174, 180, 186, 188, 194, 195, 290-292, 294-296

Colson, F. H., 89, 152, 169, 175

_comedia_, 175, 176

Comfort, W. W., 264

_comma_ (_cæsum_, _incisum_), 61, 218

_commoratio_, 305

communal poetic, 108, 123, 125, 139, 146, 204, 259, 273, 279

_commutatio_ (_chiasmus_), 47, 304

_compar_, 304, and see balance

complaint, 282, 286

_complexio_, 304

_compositio_ (sentence rhythm), 6, 20, 44, 48, 49, 54, 61-64, 68-70,
83, 84, 144, 145, 163, 215-227, 250-254

_conclusio_, 215, 220, 222, 305

concrete, 19, 42, 101, 105, 149, 152, 171, 203, 245, 259, 270, 282,
284, 286-288, 301

_Conditor supernus orbis_, 134

_conduplicatio_, 304

_Confessio amantis_ (Gower), 299, 300

_conflictus_ (_débat_), 140, 284

_conformatio_, 305

_conjunctio_, 304

Conrad, _Summa de arte prosandi_, 212, 214, 219, 220

_Consors paterni luminis_, 113

_constans_, _distinctio_ (_membrum_), 218

_contentio_, 304, 305

_continuatio_, 304

_contrarium_, 304

_Contra Symmachum_ (Prudentius), 105, 137

_controversia_, 79, 82, 83, 84, 215

conventions of composition, 7, 10, 15, 21-38, 48, 73, 78, 180, 187,
196, 236, 261, 267, 270, 280-282, 284, 291, 296

_conversio_, 304

_Corde natus_, 104, 119, 124, 134, 201

Cornificians, 158

Cornificius, 90

_correctio_, 304

correctness, 64, 65, 86, 160, 213, 215, 216, 221

cosmogony, poetic, 124, 173, 204, 241, 242, 244, 272, 273, 274

couplet, 199, 282, 297

courtly love, 267, 281, 282, 286

Crane, T. F., 235

Croll, M. W., 206, 223, 224, 225

Cruel, R., 228, 233, 234, 247

_cursus_, 216-218, 223-227

Cynewulf, 273, 277

Cyprian, St., 56, 67, 71

dactylic effects in accentual verse, 115, 117, 118, 133, 137-139,
199, 283
—in prose, 226, 250, 251

Dalton, O. M., 78

Dante, 196, 205, 224, 242, 261, 269-280, 285

Dares, 190

_De arte metrica_ (Bede), 110, 111, 120, 131, 151

_débat_ (_conflictus_), 140, 284

_Decameron_, 263, 299

_declamatio_, 10-13, 54, 77, 79, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 94, 105, 129,
142, 188, 215

_De clericorum institutione_ (Rabanus), 142, 143

_declinatio_, 162, 163

_De consolatione philosophiæ_, 101-103, and see Boethius

_De contemptu mundi_ (Bernard of Morlaix), 198-200

decoration, 7, 18, 39, 40, 41, 100, 186, 195, 203, 271

_De doctrina christiana_ (St. Augustine), 51-73, 130, 143

_De eruditione prædicatorum_ (Humbert de Romans), 238

_De faciebus mundi_ (Guillaume d’Auvergne), 236

_definitio_, 304

_Dei gratia_, 220

_De incarnatione Christi_ (Alain de Lille), 241

_De inventione_ (Cicero), 89, 142, 143, 152, 153, 175, 179, 181,
182, 214

_delectare_ (_docere_, _movere_), 64-68, 72, 73

Delisle, L., 181

delivery, 16, 57, 64, 97, 237

_demonstratio_ (logic), 154, 157, 164, 165
—(description), 180, 189, 305

_denominatio_, 305

_De nugis curialium_; see Map

_De nuptiis Philologiæ et Mercurii_; see Martianus Capella

_dependens_ (_suspensiva_), _distinctio_ (_cæsum_, _incisum_,
_comma_), 218, 219

_De planctu naturæ_ (Alain de Lille), 172, 284

De Quincey, T., 19, 44-47, 49

_De reductione artium ad theologiam_ (St. Bonaventure), 176-178

_De rhetoricæ cognatione_, 152

_De schematibus et tropis sacræ scripturæ_ (Bede), 130

_descriptio_, 305

description, 17-19, 35, 41, 79-81, 92, 100, 104, 105, 149, 161, 174,
186, 259, 260, 264, 265, 271, 277, 278, 281-284, 287, 289,
294-296, 301

_De scripturis et scriptoribus sacris_ (Hugh of St. Victor), 241

Desilve, J., 130, 131

_De vulgari eloquentia_ (Dante), 270

_diacrisis_, 161

_dialectica_, 88-93, 95-98, 129, 141, 142, 151-182, 190, 238, 248, 249

dialogue, 132, 140, 245, 246, 262, 266, 282, 286, 287, 301

Dick, A., 92

Dickinson, J., 156

_dictamen_, 21, 79, 143-145, 152, 181, 191-195, 206-227, 293

_dictator_, 213, 217, 219

_dictio_, 175

_Dies iræ_, 201

_dignitas_, 216, 219; see _ornatus_

dilation, 17-20, 46, 77, 85, 86, 101, 161, 174, 180, 182, 186, 188,
189, 193, 195, 237, 271, 291, 294-296

dimeter, 108, 113, 116, 117

_diminutio_, 305

Dio Chrysostom, 13, 17

Diomedes, 92, 131, 132, 193

Dionysius of Halicarnassus, 6

diplomatic, 213, 214

_disciplina_, 79, 85, 91, 155, 165, 166

_disjunctio_, 304

_dispositio_, 7, 20, 21, 94, 97, 171, 179, 180, 187, 192, 193, 196,
215, 247-249

_disserere_, 97, 155-157

_dissolutio_, 305

_distinctio_, 218

_Distinctiones_ (Pierre de Limoges), 234

_distributio_, 305

_Divina Commedia_, 205, 242, 269-280

_divisio_, 305

_docere_ (_delectare_, _movere_), 64-68, 72, 73

_Doctrinale_ (Alexandre de Villedieu), 184-186, 190, 198

Dominican preaching, 233, 236-238, 249

Donatus, 87, 97, 130, 151, 158

Douais, C., 228, 237

drama, 132, 176, 289

_dramaticon_, 131, 132

Dreves, G. M., 99, 116, 126, 183

Dryden, 297

_dubitatio_, 42, 305

Du Méril, E., 200

_Ecce iam noctis tenuatur umbra_, 121, 136

_ecclesiasticus_, _cursus_; see _tardus_

_ecphrasis_, 17-20, 35, 44, 104, 174, 188, 274, 294, 305

_Edda_, 145, 259

_Edric the wild_ (Walter Map), 262

_effictio_, 305

Ekkehard I of St. Gall, 145

elaboration, 17, 40-50, 142, 161, 259, 292

_electio_, 192

elegance, 19, 65, 82, 161, 213, 215-217

elegiacs, 105, 106, 140, 141, 189, 193

elementary exercises, 10, 23-38, 97, 129

_Eliduc_ (Marie), 263

Elinand, 253

_elocutio_, 39, 57, 94, 97, 142, 191, 215, 216

_eloquentia_, 128, 169

Elss, H., 106

_En cæli rutilant lumine splendido_, 138

encomium, 5, 21, 22, 30, 31, 44, 71, 78, 105, 187, 194, 236

Ennodius, 84

enthymeme, 152, 237

epic, 145-149, 258-260

epigram, 42, 48, 76, 81

_Erec_ (Chrétien), 264, 266

Ermini, F., 104, 126, 129, 141, 145, 214

_Eruditio didascalica_ (Hugh of St. Victor), 153-155

Eskredge, J. B., 55

_ethopœia_ (_ethica dictio_), 34, 83, 97

Étienne de Bourbon, 235

Étienne de Tournay, 156, 208

_Etymologiæ_; see Isidore

Eunapius, 14

euphony, 83, 217-221

Évrard de Béthune, 184, 190

Évrard l’allemand, 189-191, 194

_exclamatio_, 304

_exegematicon_, 131, 132

_exemplum_, 180, 192, 235-238, 246, 247, 260, 262, 298, 300

exordium, 57, 215, 220, 221

_expeditio_, 305

_explanatio_, 216

_expolitio_, 305

fable, 23, 132, 178

_fableau_, 297

_fabula_, 96, 129, 132, 161, 175, 186, 193, 222, 260

_Facetus_, 190

_Faerie Queene_, 273, 277, 284

fairy mistress, 262, 297

Farabi, 175

Faral, E., 160, 183, 185, 188, 189, 191, 196, 261

_Felix per omnes festum mundi cardines_, 137

_Festum nunc celebre magnaque gaudia_, 187

Fierville, C., 89, 184, 194, 206, 216, 218

figures, 4, 9, 40-42, 54, 62-64, 66, 79, 87, 94, 96, 130, 162, 174,
184-186, 188, 189, 191, 193-195, 214, 216, 219, 304, 305

_Filostrato_ (Boccaccio), 285, 286

_finalis_ (_finitiva_), _distinctio_ (_periodus_), 219

_Finnsburgh_, 145, 147

Fisher, L. A., 269

five parts of rhetoric, 39, 57, 94, 97, 174, 177, 179, 192, 215, 216

_Floretus_ (_Fleuret_), 190

folklore, 146, 147, 260, 262, 267, 297

form letters, 208

Fortunatianus, 87, 95

Fortunatus, 106, 107, 110, 119, 120, 124, 151

framework tales, 296-301

Franciscan sermons, 235, 238, 249

Francis de Sales, St., 236

Frater Peregrinus, 233, 234

_Fratres, alacri pectore_, 133

_frequentatio_, 305

Fulbert, 151, 152, 197, 234

Fulda, 127, 128

Gaiter, L., 178

_gallicus_, _stilus_ (_Aurelianensis_), 195, 223, 226

Gaskoin, C. J. B., 142

Gastoué, 113

Gaudenzi, A., 206, 212, 213

Gaul, schools of, 75-90, 142, 226, 252

_Gawain and the Green Knight_, 267, 286, 287

Geoffroi de Vinsauf, 187-189, 190, 217, 221, 270, 291, 294-296

Gerbert, 128, 130, 156, 262

Germanic epic, 145-149

Gerould, G. H., 144

_Gesta Apollonii_, 141

Gibbon, 75

Gilbert de la Porrée (Gilbertus Porretanus), 151, 153

_Gloria, laus et honor tibi sit_, 140

Glover, T. R., 74

Godescalc (Gottschalk), 139, 190

Goliardic verse, 191, 200

Gorgian figures, 9, 42-48, 86; and see balance

Gorgias, 8, 9, 13, 41, 97

Gower, 299, 300

_Graalent_, 263

_gradatio_, 61, 304

_Græcismus_ (Évrard de Béthune), 184, 190

Grail, 261, 263, 268

_grammatica_, 63, 79, 87, 88, 90-93, 96, 97, 110, 127-132, 151,
153-155, 157, 159-162, 164, 169-171, 173, 175-177, 182,
184-186, 189, 195, 214

_grammaticus_, 76, 130, 141, 160, 164

_grande_ (_genus_), 68, 70, 71, 192, 216; see three styles

Greek, 61, 97, 110, 128, 158

Greenough, J. B., 122

Greet, W. C., 184

_Gregorianus_, _stilus_, 194

Gregory the Great, St., 113, 122, 123

Gregory Nazianzen, St., 9, 12, 21, 52

Gregory of Nyssa, St., 52

grotesque, 278

Guest, C., 264

Guibert de Nogent, 236, 240

Guido Fava, 213, 221

Guignet, M., 1, 9, 17, 18, 21, 41, 43, 61

Guillaume, Maître, 226

Guillaume d’Auvergne, 236

Guy of Warwick, 268

Hahn, S. F., 206

Halm, K., 74, 126

_Hamartigenia_ (Prudentius), 105

Hamilton, G. L., 190

Harmon, A. M., 206

Harrington, K. P., 198

Hartland, E. S., 261

Haskins. C. H., 150, 151, 152, 160, 175, 190

Hauréau, B., 153, 252

Havet, J., 128

Havet, L., 206, 223

Henri d’Andeli, 181, 184, 190

_Heptateuchon_ (Thierry of Chartres), 153

_Herennium_, _Rhetorica ad_, 42, 90, 152, 153, 175, 181, 182, 191, 195,
214, 219, 221

Heribert of Eichstätt, 197

Hermagoras, 97

Hermogenes, 23-39, 49, 87

hexameter, 105, 140, 141, 145, 148, 173, 184, 190, 197-199

high style, 270, 285, 292, 293, 294; see _grande_ and three styles

_Hilarianus_, _stilus_, 194

Hilary of Poitiers, St., 120, 123, 125

_Hildebrand_, 145, 146, 147

Hilduin, 253

Hinton, J., 261

_historia_, 96, 161, 175, 193, 222, 260

_Historia pontificalis_ (John of Salisbury), 156

homiletic; see preaching

_Honeysuckle_ (Marie), 263

_Hora novissima_, 190, 199

Horace, _Ars Poetica_, 85, 86, 88, 129, 151, 159, 186, 188, 191, 214,
219, 270

Hrotsvitha, 141

Hubbell, H. M., 1, 6

Hucbald, 131

Hugh of St. Victor, 153-156, 165, 173, 177, 204, 241, 256

Humbert de Romans, 238

_Hymnum dicat turba fratrum_, 120, 125, 203

hymns, 104, 106, 107-125, 132-140, 194, 197-205, 258; and see first
lines

hyperbaton, 43, 47, 305

hyperbole, 44, 185, 305

hypothesis, 37, 166

iambic rhythms, 116-118, 132, 133

_Ignis Creator igneus_, 114, 117

_Ilias latina_, 190

_illustratio_, 161, 171

_imago_, 305

imitation, 55, 58, 64, 162, 163, 171

improvisation, 13-16

_incisum_ (_cæsum_, _comma_), 61, 218

individualizing detail; see concrete

_In natale Salvatoris_, 201, 202

_insinuatio_ (exordium), 221

_Institutiones_ (Cassiodorus), 95

_integritas_, 65

_intellectio_, 305

_intellectus_, 165, 168

_interpretatio_, 304

interpretation of Scripture, 237, 239-244; see symbolism

_interrogatio_, 42, 304

_invectio_, 175

_inventio_, 7, 56, 57, 91, 94, 97, 154-156, 164, 172, 182, 187, 191,
192, 196, 215, 237

Irish epic, 145

Irish hymns, 106, 113-115, 120, 121, 122, 133

Isidore, 90, 95-98, 141, 152, 156, 175

_Isidorianus_, _stilus_, 194

Isocrates, 5, 6, 43, 46

iteration, 43, 44, 61, 252-257

Ives of Chartres, St., 151

Jacques de Vitry, 234, 235, 238

Jæneke, J. F. G., 38

James, M. R., 261

Jean d’Antioche, 181

Jerome, St., 62

Jocelyn of Brakelond, 233

John of Gaetà, 223

John of Garlandia (Johannes Anglicus), 190, 191-195, 215, 270

John of Salisbury, 79, 89, 151, 152, 154-173, 177, 181, 190,
208-212, 221, 224

_judicium_, 154-156, 164, 172

Julian, 54

_junctura_, 186

Keil, H., 74, 99, 126

Kemp-Welch, A., 263

Kennedy, M. J., 22

Ker, W. P., 145, 148

Kittredge, G. L., 282, 300

Kleutgen, J., 26

_Laborintus_, 189-191

Labriolle, P. de, 74

_lai_, 263, 290

_laisse_, 260

Lanfranc, 151

Lanfranchi, V., 103

Lang, A., 263

Langlois, C. V., 207, 223, 233

Lanson, G., 259

_Lanval_ (Marie), 263

_latinitas_, 216

_Lauda Sion_, 202, 204, 205

_Laudes crucis attollamus_, 203

_Laus erumpat ex affectu_ (v), 202

Lawrence, W. W., 300

Lease, E. B., 103

Lecoy de la Marche, A., 228, 229, 231, 232, 234, 235, 237, 248, 283

Legouis, E., 284

Leonine hexameters, 190, 199

Leonine (prose), rhythm, 223

letters, 21, 78, 79, 128, 143-145, 152, 156, 181, 191-195, 206-227,
293

_Libellus de exordiis et incrementis_ (Walafrid Strabo), 181

_Liber de causis_ (Gilbert), 153

_Liber pontificalis_, 223

_Liber quo ordine sermo_ (Guibert de Nogent), 236, 240

_Liber sex principiorum_ (Gilbert), 153

liberal arts, 91, 92, 95, 96, 128, 153, 155, 158-161, 172-181, 189,
245

_licentia_, 305

_litteralis expositio_, 240

Little, A. G., 235

Lloyd, J. E., 261

_loci rhetorici_, 152, 175

logic, 88-93, 95-98, 129, 141, 142, 151-182, 196, 238, 248, 249

_logica_, 97, 98, 154, 155, 157-159, 164-167, 169, 173, 175, 177

_lorica_, 121, 133

Loup de Ferrières, 128-130, 143, 144

Lucan, 100, 162

Lucian, 13, 18, 19

Luquiens, F. B., 263

_Lustra sex qui jam peregit_, 120

lyric, 123, 258; see hymns

Mabillon, 229, 232

_Mabinogion_, 264

Maggini, F., 178

Maigret, F., 103

_Maldon_, 145, 260

Malory, Sir Thomas, 268, 269

Manacorda, G., 74, 150, 183, 207

Manitius, M., 74, 126, 143, 190

Manly, J. M., 188, 289

Map, Walter, 196, 200, 246, 247, 261-263

Mari, G., 183

_Mariage des sept arts_, 181

_Mariale_ (Bernard of Morlaix), 198

Marie, 196, 263

Martianus Capella, 91-95, 104, 151-153, 172, 179, 190, 193

martyr poems, 105, 124, 129, 140, 141

_materia_, 192, 213

Matthieu de Vendôme, 185-187, 190, 192, 194, 218, 270

Maurice de Sully, 234

Mearns, J., 99

_media_, _distinctio_ (_membrum_, _colon_), 61, 218, 219

_Mediæ noctis tempus est_, 118

Medica, 13, 40

_medium_, _genus_ (_mediocre_, _temperatum_), 68, 69, 71, 192, 216;
see three styles

_membrum_ (_colon_, _distinctio media_), 61, 218, 219

memory, 13, 15, 57, 68, 69, 97, 162, 163, 192

Menander Rhetor, 21, 31

Méridier, L., 1, 9, 13, 17, 18, 31, 41, 43, 49, 61

_Metalogicus_ (John of Salisbury), 79, 89, 152, 154-172, 190

metaphor, 237, 305

metonymy, 185, 305

Meyer, W., 115, 136, 144, 223, 224

Mignon, A., 150, 153

_mimeticon_, 131

Misset, E., 183, 201, 204

Moffat, D. M., 172

monastic schools, 127, 128, 151

Monceaux, P., 74

_moralis expositio_, 240, 243, 244

Morte d’Arthur, stanzaic, 283

Mosher, J. A., 235

_movere_ (_docere_, _delectare_), 64-68, 72, 73

mysticism, 241; see symbolism

_narratio_, 57, 179, 193, 215, 221, 222

narrative movement, 20, 196, 246, 259, 260, 262-270, 275-278, 283,
284, 286-289, 293-298, 301

narrative, verse, 100, 105, 188, 260, 264-301

Neale, J. M., 198

Necker, G., 259

_Nocte surgentes vigilemus omnes_, 122

_nominatio_, 305

Norden, E., 8, 73

_Nos dicamus Christo laudem_, 134

_notarii_, 213

_notatio_, 305

_numerus_, 112, 175

occasional oratory, 5, 73, 78, 79, 229-231

_occupatio_ (_occultatio,_ _præteritio_), 296, 304

Odo of Morimond, 234

_œconomia_, 163, 171

Ogle, M. B., 261

_O lux beata Trinitas_, 107

Onulf of Speier, 152

_O quam glorifica luce coruscas_, 137

_O quanta qualia sunt illa sabbata_, 138

oral narrative, 245, 285, 301

order;
logical, see _dispositio_;
—narrative, see narrative movement;
—natural or artistic, 179, 193, 196

_Ordiar unde tuos, sacer O Benedicte, triumphos_, 140

_O redemptor, sume carmen_, 135

oriental tales, 261, 262

_Origines_; see Isidore

Orléans, 151, 184, 185, 194, 195, 208, 217

_ornatus_, 142, 178, 216, 219, 233, 270, 276

_O Roma nobilis_, 138

_O salutaris_, 205

Ott, E., 213

Ovid, 19, 129, 140, 141, 151, 262, 282, 294

Owst, G. R., 228

Paetow, L. J., 184, 190, 207

panegyric; see encomium

_Pange, lingua, gloriosi_, 106, 119

_Pange, lingua, gloriosi corporis_, 205

Panicali da Cingoli, 87

_Parabolæ_ (Alain de Lille), 190

Paris, 151, 158, 154, 184, 234

Parker, H., 199

_paronomasia_, 43, 48

parts of a discourse, 193

_Parzival_ (Wolfram), 269

_passiones_, 129, 140, 141, 144

Pater, W., 19

Paul, St., 61, 67-70, 73

Paulinus of Aquileia, 134

Paulus Albarus, 137

Paulus Diaconus, 133, 134, 136, 140

_Pearl_, 272, 277, 279, 283, 285

Pecock, R., 87, 184

Perdrizet, P., 228, 241, 252

period (_periodus_, _circuitus_, _distinctio finalis_), 61, 62, 64,
219

Peripatetics, 164

_Peristephanon_ (Prudentius), 105, 119

_permissio_, 305

_permutatio_, 305

peroration, 70, 79; see _conclusio_

Persius, 239, 290

Petit de Julleville, L., 12

_petitio_ (of a letter), 215, 220, 222

Petrarch, 292, 293

Petronius, 262

Petrus Diaconus, 134

_philosophia_, divisions of, 98, 154-156, 164, 165, 176-178, 181

Philostratus, 8-23, 38, 49, 76

Pichon, R., 74

Pierre de Blois, 208, 223, 232

Pierre de Celles, 241, 247, 250

Pierre de Limoges, 234

_Piers Plowman_, 245, 272, 273, 284

_Pilgrim’s Progress_, 245, 246, 273

plan; see _dispositio_, order

_planus_, _cursus_, 223, 225

Plato, 2-7, 39, 50, 98, 165, 167

Pliny, 12, 15

_poetica_, 157, 159, 160, 161, 174, 184, 186, 189; see _prælectio_

poetic diction, 149, 161; and see foregoing

poetic merged with rhetoric, 24, 39, 76, 85, 86, 100, 132, 144, 159,
174-176, 179-181, 186, 193, 194, 196, 215, 219, 270, 292, 295,
296

_poetria_, 185-196, 203, 214, 222, 237, 260, 261, 270, 271, 274,
289-296

_Poetria_; see John of Garlandia

_Poetria nova_; see Geoffroi de Vinsauf

poetry, kinds of, 131, 175

Poggio, 143

Polheim, K., 207, 228, 234, 252

_Policraticus_ (John of Salisbury), 79, 156, 157

Ponce, 226

Poole, R. L., 150, 156, 207, 214, 223, 224

Porphyry, 88, 98, 129, 165, 167, 173

_præcisio_ (_aposiopesis_), 42, 305

_prælectio_, 88, 129, 131, 152, 160-164, 171, 184, 186, 195

preaching, 51-73, 214, 225, 228-257

prefiguration, symbolic, 203, 240, 242, 244

Price, T. R., 289

_Primo dierum_, 194

_principium_ (exordium), 221

Priscian, 87, 92, 130, 151-153, 184

_privilegia_, 213

_probabilis_, 154, 155, 157, 165

progymnasmata; see elementary exercises

_pronominatio_, 305

_pronuntiatio_; see delivery

_prosa_, 195

_prosopopœia_, 83, 97, 141, 215, 305

proverb, 27, 180, 191, 192, 221

Prudentius, 103-105, 117, 119, 123, 124, 137, 141, 151

_Psychomachia_ (Prudentius), 104, 105

Puech, A., 103, 105

punctuation, 219

Quadrivium, 153-155, 158, 159, 161, 173

_quæstiones civiles_, 142, 178

Quintilian, 39, 41-43, 48, 77, 84, 89, 90, 95, 97, 143, 152, 154,
157, 160, 161, 164, 169, 170, 171, 175, 178, 182, 222

Rabanus, 128, 129, 131, 132, 134, 142, 143

Rabe, H., 23

Rand, E. K., 89, 100

_ratiocinatio_, 304

refrain, 45, 140, 254-257, 283

_Refulget omnis luce mundus aurea_, 136

Reichling, D., 184

Remi of Auxerre, 95, 128, 130, 152

Renaissance, 226, 227, 250, 252, 261

_repetitio_, 304

_Rerum Creator optime_, 113

_Rex æterne Domine_, 118

_rhetor_, 76, 93, 97, 292, 295

_rhetorica ecclesiastica_, 213

_Rhetorica novissima_ (Boncompagno), 212, 213

rhythm (prose), 4, 6, 19, 20, 40, 43-49, 61-64, 68, 69, 70, 83, 84,
144, 145, 163, 214, 216-219, 223-227, 250-254

_rhythmus_ (accentual verse), 96, 107-123, 132-140, 152, 189-191,
194, 195, 197-205, 214, 220

Richard l’Evêque, 151

Richard of St. Victor, 253

rime (verse), 102, 103, 106, 120, 133, 135, 141, 148, 190, 194,
197-205, 220;
—(prose) 6, 47, 144, 252-254, 304

Rockinger, L., 207

Roger, M., 74

Rohde, E., 8

_Roland_, 260

_Roman de la Rose_, 109, 245, 274, 281

_Roman de Troie_ (Benoît), 288

romance, 260-269, 285-289, 291, 297

_Romanus_, _stilus_, 194, 208, 217, 223, 225

rondel, 283

Root, R. K., 285, 288, 300

_Rota Virgili_, 192, 196

Rutilius Lupus, 42

_Sacris sollemniis_, 204, 205

_Sadius and Galo_ (Walter Map), 262

St. Amand school, 130, 131

St. Gall school, 127, 145

saints’ legend, 260, 261, 296; see martyr poems, _passiones_

St. Victor, abbey, 153, 154, 233, 240

_salutatio_, 220

_Salve, crux sancta_, 197

_Salve, dies dierum gloria_, 202

_Salvete, flores martyrum_, 117, 123

Samson, Abbot of St. Edmund’s, 233

_Sancti, venite_, 122, 123, 136

_Sanctorum meritis inclyta gaudia_, 137

Sandys, J. E., 23

sapphics, 106, 121, 122, 136, 139

_satira_, 175

Saturnian verse, 110

Scandinavian epic, 259

_Sceva and Ollo_ (Walter Map), 262

schemata (figures), 42, 94, 96, 97, 185

Schleich, G., 264

schools; see Chartres, etc.

school verse, 76, 141, 164, 184, 186, 187, 191, 194

_Scoti_, 127, 128, 131

Scott, Sir Walter, 49, 50

Sedulius, 105, 106, 151

Sedulius Scotus, 133, 134, 136, 137, 139

Seneca, 160

Seneca Rhetor, 82, 95, 161

sentences; see _compositio_, rhythm

_sententia_, 42, 76, 304

sequence; see order

sequence, liturgical, 202

_sermocinatio_, 305

sermon; see preaching

sermon digests, 234-236

_sermones ad clerum_, _ad populum_, 232, 234, 249, 250

_Sermones vulgares_ (Jacques de Vitry), 234, 235

seven liberal arts; see _artes_

_Seven Sages_, 299, 300

Sidonius, 78-87, 89, 152, 182, 188, 190

_significatio_, 305

_similiter cadens_, _desinens_, 304

_similitudo_, 305

situation, narrative, 263, 288

_Skáldskaparmál_, 259

Snorri Sturlasson, 259

social romance, 261, 262, 286, 287

_Song of Songs_, 132, 238, 241

sophistic, 2-54, 61, 65-67, 71, 73, 75, 79, 82, 187, 188, 189

_sophistica_ (logic), 154, 155, 157, 165, 166

_Speculum doctrinale_; see Vincent

_Speculum humanæ salvationis_, 228, 241

Speier, 129, 140, 141, 152, 184, 186

Spenser, 273

spondaic effects in accentual verse, 115, 117, 118, 122, 198, 226

_Stabat mater_, 202

stanza, 201-203, 258, 283-285

statement of the facts; see _narratio_

Statius, 85, 100, 151

_status_, 89, 91, 94, 95, 175, 179

staves, Anglo-Saxon, 148;
—Latin, 199

Sterne, L., 19

Stewart, H. F., 100

_stilus_; see _Aurelianus_, _Hilarianus_, _Isidorianus_, _Romanus_,
_Tullianus_

_subjectio_, 304

_Sublime_, treatise on the, 41, 50, 66, 101, 205, 271

_sublimis_, _stilus_; see _grande_

_submissum_, _genus_ (_humile_, _tenue_), 68, 71, 192, 216

_Suffragare, Trinitatis unitas_, 121

Sulpitius Verulanus, 184, 190

_Summa de arte prædicatoria_ (Alain de Lille), 238, 239

_Summa de arte prosandi_ (Conrad), 212, 214, 219, 220

_superlatio_, 305

_suspensiva, distinctio_ (_dependens_, _comma_, _cæsum_, _incisum_),
219

syllabic equality in accentual verse, 220

syllabic scansion, 220, 260, 281

syllogism, 152, 175

symbolism, 120, 124, 125, 130, 173, 203-205, 237, 239-244, 245, 273

syncope in accentual verse, 115, 117, 118, 122, 137, 283

synecdoche, 185, 305

Tacitus, 22

_Tantum ergo_, 205

_tardus_ (_ecclesiasticus_), _cursus_, 223-225

Tatlock, J. P. S., 290, 300

_Tellus ac æthra jubilent_, 118

_tenue_, _genus_ (_humile_, _submissum_), 68, 71, 192, 216

_Théodolet_, 190

Theodulf, 127, 140

_Theodulus_, 190

Theon, 23

Therèse, Sister, S. N. D., 51

thesaurus, sermon, 235, 236

thesis, 36, 166

Thierry of Chartres, 152, 153

Thomas Aquinas, St., 202, 204, 205, 229

Thomas of Capua, _Dictator_, 212

Thomas of Celano, 201

three fields of oratory, 5, 72, 97, 177, 230

three functions of oratory, 64-68, 72, 73, 221, 230

three kinds of composition (_metricum_, _rhythmicum_, _prosaicum_),
214

three styles, 56, 67-72, 97, 144, 190-192, 194, 216, 270, 295

Thurot, C., 184, 207, 208, 213, 219, 226

_Tobias_ (Matthieu de Vendôme), 190

_Tombeor de Notre Dame_, 295

_topica_, 89, 167, 168

Toulouse, 153

Tours, 127, 151

Toynbee, P., 207, 224

_Tractatus de diversis materiis prædicabilibus_ (Étienne de Bourbon),
235

_traductio_, 304

_tragedia_, 132, 175, 176, 194

tragedy, 148, 285, 288, 298

_transgressio_, 305

_transitio_, 304

_translatio_, 305

Traube, L., 138

_Trésor_; see Brunetto Latini

_trispondiacus_, _cursus_, 223

Tristram, 263, 285

Trivium, 90-98, 127-132, 141-144, 151-182

trochaic rhythms in accentual verse, 119-121, 134-136, 197, 201-203

Troica, 13

trope, 42, 96, 185, 305

_tropologia_, 237, 240

troubadours, 258, 270

_Tullianus_, _stilus_, 194, 217

Tupper, F., 261

type; see appropriateness, prefiguration

Uffing, 141

_Urbs beata Hierusalem_, 134

Vacandard, E., 207, 223, 225

Valla, L., 184

Valois, N., 207, 223

Varro, 91, 98

vehemence, 16, 49, 50, 86

_velox_, _cursus_, 223-225

_Veni Creator Spiritus_, 132

_Verbum Dei Spiritumque_, 197

_Verbum supernum_, 205

Vergil, 19, 100, 129, 132, 141, 144, 151, 162, 174, 189-192, 196,
270, 276, 277, 295

vernacular poetry, 258-301

vernacular sermons, 232, 234, 249

verse, Latin, 87, 96, 102-123, 131-140, 148, 160, 161, 173, 175, 176,
179, 184-205, 214, 220, 258, 280

_Versus Flavii ad Mandatum_, 118

_Vexilla regis_, 106

Victorinus, 87, 92, 111

Villani, 178

Vincent of Beauvais, 96, 159, 174-176, 189

vision poetry, 241, 242, 272, 282, 284

_Vita et passio S. Christophori_ (Walter of Speier), 129, 140

_Vox clara ecce intonat_, 113

Wahrmund, L., 213

Walafrid Strabo, 131, 142

Walden, J. W. H., 23

Walter of Speier, 129, 140, 141, 144, 190

_Waltharius_ (Ekkehard), 145

Warren, F. E., 113

Webb, C. C. I., 156

White, H. G. E., 75

Wilkins, A. S., 42

Wolfram von Eschenbach, 269

word-play, 43, 48, 67, 81, 103, 105, 187, 304

Wright, T., 172, 198, 261

Wright, W. C., 1, 6, 8, 23

_Yonec_ (Marie), 263

York, 127, 130, 140

_Ysopet_, 190

_Yvain_ (Chrétien), 264-266

_Ywain and Gawain_, 265, 266, 282

Zeno, 98, 173