Part 23 (2/2)
The library of the Grey Friars in London was of more than usual magnificence and extent. It was founded by the celebrated Richard Whittington. Its origin is thus set forth in an old ma.n.u.script in the Cottonian library:[455]
”In the year of our Lord, 1421, the wors.h.i.+pful Richard Whyttyngton, knight and mayor of London, began the new library and laid the first foundation-stone on the 21st day of October; that is, on the feast of St.
Hilarion the abbot. And the following year before the feast of the nativity of Christ, the house was raised and covered; and in three years after, it was floored, whitewashed, glazed,[456] adorned with shelves, statues, and carving, and furnished with books: and the expenses about what is aforesaid amount to 556:16:9; of which sum, the aforesaid Richard Whyttyngton paid 400, and the residue was paid by the reverend father B. Thomas Winchelsey and his friends, to whose soul G.o.d be propitious.--Amen.”
Among some items of money expended, we find, ”for the works of Doctor de Lyra contained in two volumes, now in the chains,[457] 100 marks, of which B. John Frensile remitted 20s.; and for the Lectures of Hostiensis, now lying in the chains, 5 marks.”[458] Leland speaks in the most enthusiastic terms of this library, and says, that it far surpa.s.sed all others for the number and antiquity of its volumes. John Wallden bequeathed as many ma.n.u.scripts of celebrated authors as were worth two thousand pounds.[459]
The library of the Dominicans in London was also at one time well stored with valuable books. Leland mentions some of those he found there, and among them some writings of Wicliff;[460] indeed those of this order were renowned far and wide for their love of study; look at the old portraits of a Dominican friar, and you will generally see him with the pen in one hand and a book in the other; but they were more ambitious in literature than the monks, and aimed at the honors of an author rather than at those of a scribe; but we are surprised more at their fertility than at their style or originality in the mysteries of bookcraft. Henry Esseburn diligently read at Oxford, and devoted his whole soul to study, and wrote a number of works, princ.i.p.ally on the Bible; he was appointed to govern the Dominican monastery at Chester; ”being remote from all schools, he made use of his spare hours to revise and polish what he had writ at Oxford; having performed the same to his own satisfaction, he caused his works to be fairly transcribed, and copies of them to be preserved in several libraries of his order.”[461] But they did not usually pay so much attention to the duties of transcribing. The Dominicans were fond of the physical sciences, and have been accused of too much partiality for occult philosophy. Leland tells us that Robert Perserutatur, a Dominican, was over solicitous in prying into the secrets of philosophy,[462] and lays the same charge to many others.
The Carmelites were more careful in transcribing books than the Dominicans, and anxiously preserved them from dust and worms; but I can find but little notice of their libraries; the one at Oxford was a large room, where they arranged their books in cases made for that purpose; before the foundation of this library, the Carmelites kept their books in chests, and doubtless gloried in an ample store of ma.n.u.script treasures.[463]
But in the fifteenth century we find the Mendicant Friars, like the order religious sects, disregarding those strict principles of piety which had for two hundred years so distinguished their order. The holy rules of St.
Francis and St. Dominic were seldom read with much attention, and never practised with severity; they became careless in the propagation of religious principles, relaxed in their austerity, and looked with too much fondness on the riches and honors of the world.[464] This diminution in religious zeal was naturally accompanied by a proportionate decrease in learning and love of study. The sparkling orator, the acute controversialist, or the profound scholar, might have been searched for in vain among the Franciscans or the Dominicans of the fifteenth century.
Careless in literary matters, they thought little of collecting books, or preserving even those which their libraries already contained; the Franciscans at Oxford ”sold many of their books to Dr. Thomas Gascoigne, about the year 1433,[465] which he gave to the libraries of Lincoln, Durham, Baliol, and Oriel. They also declining in strictness of life and learning, sold many more to other persons, so that their libraries declined to little or nothing.”[466]
We are not therefore surprised at the disappointment of Leland, on examining this famous repository; his expectations were raised by the care with which he found the library guarded, and the difficulty he had to obtain access to it: but when he entered, he did not find one-third the number of books which it originally contained; but dust and cobwebs, moths and beetles he found in abundance, which swarmed over the empty shelves.[467]
The mendicant friars have rendered themselves famous by introducing theatrical representations[468] for the amus.e.m.e.nt and instruction of the people. These shows were usually denominated miracles, moralities, or mysteries, and were performed by the friars in their convents or on portable stages, which were wheeled into the market places and streets for the convenience of the spectators.
The friars of the monastery of the Franciscans at Coventry are particularly celebrated for their ingenuity in performing these pageants on Corpus Christi day; a copy of this play or miracle is preserved in the Cottonian Collection, written in old English rhyme. It embraces the transactions of the Old and New Testament, and is ent.i.tled _Ludus Corpus Christi_. It commences--
A PLAIE CALLED CORPUS CHRISTI.[469]
Now gracyous G.o.d groundyd of all goodnesse, As thy grete glorie neuyr begynnyng had; So you succour and save all those that sytt and sese, And lystenyth to our talkyng with sylens stylle and sad, For we purpose no pertly stylle in his prese The pepyl to plese with pleys ful glad, Now lystenyth us lowly both mar and lesse Gentyllys and 3emaury off goodly lyff lad, is tyde, We call you shewe us that we kan, How that is werd fyrst began, And howe G.o.d made bothe worlde and man If yt ye wyll abyde.
These miracles were intended to instruct the more ignorant, or those whose circ.u.mstances placed the usual means of acquiring knowledge beyond their reach; but as books became accessible, they were no longer needed; the printing press made the Bible, from which the plots of the miracle plays were usually derived, common among the people, and these gaudy representations were swept away by the Reformation; but they were temporarily revived in Queen Mary's time, with the other abominations of the church papal, for we find that ”in the year 1556 a goodly stage play of the Pa.s.sion of Christ was presented at the Grey Friers in London on Corpus Christi day,” before the Lord Mayor and citizens;[470] but we have nothing here to do with anecdotes ill.u.s.trating a period so late as this.
We have now arrived at the dawn of a new era in learning, and the slow, plodding, laborious scribes of the monasteries were startled by the appearance of an invention with which their poor pens had no power to compete. The year 1472 was the last of the parchment literature of the monks, and the first in the English annals of printed learning; but we must not forget that the monks with all their sloth and ignorance, were the foremost among the encouragers of the early printing press in England; the monotony of the dull cloisters of Westminster Abbey was broken by the clanking of Caxton's press; and the prayers of the monks of old St. Albans mingled with the echoes of the pressman's labor. Little did those barefooted priests know what an opponent to their Romish rites they were fostering into life; their love of learning and pa.s.sion for books, drove all fear away; and the splendor of the new power so dazzled their eyes that they could not clearly see the nature of the refulgent light just bursting through the gloom of ages.
After the invention of the printing art, bibliomania took some mighty strides; and many choice collectors, full of ardor in the pursuit, became renowned for the vast book stores they ama.s.sed together. But some of their names have been preserved and good deeds chronicled by Dibdin, of bibliographical renown; so that a chapter is not necessary here to extol them. We may judge how fas.h.i.+onable the avocation became by the keen satire of Alexander Barkley, in his translation of Brandt's _Navis Stultifera_ or Shyp of Folys,[471] who gives a curious ill.u.s.tration of a bibliomaniac; and thus speaks of those collectors who ama.s.sed their book treasures without possessing much esteem for their contents.
”That in this s.h.i.+p the chiefe place I gouerne, By this wide sea with fooles wandring, The cause is plain & easy to discerne Still am I busy, bookes a.s.sembling, For to have plentie it is a pleasaunt thing In my conceyt, to have them ay in hand, But what they meane do I not understande.
”But yet I have them in great reverence And honoure, sauing them from filth & ordure By often brus.h.i.+ng & much diligence Full goodly bounde in pleasaunt couerture Of Damas, Sattin, or els of velvet pure I keepe them sure, fearing least they should be lost, For in them is the cunning wherein I me boast.
”But if it fortune that any learned man Within my house fall to disputation, I drawe the curtaynes to shewe my bokes them, That they of my cunning should make probation I love not to fall in alterication, And while the commen, my bokes I turne and winde For all is in them, and nothing in my minde.
”Ptolomeus the riche caused, longe agone, Over all the worlde good bookes to be sought, Done was his commandement--anone These bokes he had, and in his studie brought, Which pa.s.sed all earthly treasure as he thought, But neverthelesse he did him not apply Unto their doctrine, but lived unhappily.
”Lo, in likewise of bookes I have store, But fewe I reade and fewer understande, I folowe not their doctrine nor their lore, It is ynough to beare a booke in hande.
It were too muche to be in such a bande, For to be bounde to loke within the booke I am content on the fayre coveryng to looke.
”Why should I studie to hurt my wit therby, Or trouble my minde with studie excessiue.
Sithe many are which studie right busely, And yet therby thall they never thrive The fruite of wisdome can they not contriue, And many to studie so muche are inclinde, That utterly they fall out of their minde.
”Eche is not lettred that nowe is made a lorde, Nor eche a clerke that hath a benefice; They are not all lawyers that pleas do recorde, All that are promoted are not fully wise; On suche chaunce nowe fortune throwes her dice That though we knowe but the yrishe game, Yet would he have a gentleman's name.
”So in like wise I am in suche case, Though I nought can, I would be called wise, Also I may set another in my place, Whiche may for me my bokes exercise, Or els I shall ensue the common guise, And say concedo to euery argument, Least by much speache my latin should be spent.
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