historians are sometimes too prone to neglect such as are plain and obvious. In the present instance these were certainly no other than the prolongation of unmitigated despotism, and the civil confusion, which, in addition to its customary attendants, it so commonly introduced regarding the succession to the throne. It is unnecessary to search after remote reasons for the degradation of any people which has been subjected for three centuries to the abuse of arbitrary rule; and though it be true that Trajan and the Antonines for a moment arrested the torrent of corruption, they were but accidental blessings; and if their personal excellence partially remedied the monstrous depravity of the system, their influence lasted not beyond their life. Presently the tide resumed its downward course, and its natural and necessary progress was scarcely accelerated either by the crimes of Severus or the calamities of Decius. Whether, then, it be reasonable to consider the first period of the decline of literature as closing with the reign of the Antonines, or whether we shall extend it over the barren period which intervened between the death of Marcus and the establishment of Christianity, it is clear that it proceeded from causes quite independent of that religion. The second line we may venture perhaps to draw after the fourth Council of Carthage, and the third at the expulsion of the Athenian philosophers by Justinian.

During the second period, Constantine, Julian and Theodosius successively proposed encouragements to learning, and bestowed personal honours on those possessing it. If Julian confined his rewards to Pagan, and Constantine to Christian, literature, the greater effect (owing to the longer duration of his reign) was produced by the latter-the same is true of the exertions of Theodosius; consequently, during the last half of the fourth and the beginning of the fifth century, the Church abounded with prelates of splendid talents, and laborious industry, and such learning as was then thought most necessary. The Christian writings of this period, to whatsoever objections they may be liable, constitute the best part of its literature. And in so far as they are censured (and justly censured) for the occasional display of vain speculation about things not determinable, of unfair representation, of perverse disputatiousness, of absurd or unworthy arguments, it is a question, whether the lucubrations of the schoolmen and rhetoricians of Rome or Greece give less ground for the same reproaches for in a mere literary point of view, it matters little, whether it be the inscrutable in nature or in revelation on which the wayward imagination wastes itself; and as these latter investigations are more likely to deviate into a moral character, so is there a better prospect of their utility. And in justice to most of the Fathers of this period we should add, that there are many splendid illustrations of scripture, and many generous bursts of moral exhortation, which enrich and ennoble their works, and which surpass the ardour, if they do not rival the elegance, of profane philosophy.

A canon of the Council held at Carthage* in the year 398 forbade the study of secular books by Bishops; and we have therefore Fourth Council selected this as a crisis in the history of Christian literaof Carthage. ture. Assuredly a deplorable dearth of learning very soon followed this crisis, and our third period is distinguished by scarcely two or three names respectable for talents or

* The celebrated Canon in question appears in the midst of several others, generally respecting the episcopal office and duties: their substance is as follows- the Bishop should have a small residence near the church; his furniture should be of small price, and his table poorly supplied; he should sustain his dignity by his faith and his holy

acquirements. However we do not at all intend to attribute this rapid defection to the injudicious ordinance in question; since its authority was not universal, and since injunctions of that description are seldom obeyed, except by such as are previously disposed to receive them. It was an index rather than a cause of the altering spirit of the Church, and as such we record it. The real reasons of that sudden defection, and of the darkness which followed it, are two: the first of these, which alone perhaps might gradually have completed the extinction of sound learning, was the internal corruption of Christianity, and the spreading disease of monachism. An age of prodigies and relics and Stylites was not proper for the growth of genius or the cultivation of knowledge; and the little of either which survived in the East may have owed its existence to the dissensions of the Christians, as much as to their virtues. The second reason was the frequent irruption and final settlement of the barbarian conquerors. This cause was indeed confined almost entirely to the provinces of the West; but the wounds which it inflicted there were deeper and of more extensive influence than might at first have been apprehended. It afforded a fearful prospect that those hordes of colonists were wholly uninstructed in literary acquirements, and even generally prejudiced against them. Theodoric himself, the wisest, as well as the best, among their Princes, while he respected the superior civilization of the vanquished, despised and disclaimed that art which seemed to be employed for no other end, than to inflame and perpetuate religious controversy. He could never be prevailed upon to learn to read. But the cause which increased and prolonged that mischief, and created many others, was the superstitious disposition which the invaders brought with them. They had learnt, as the rudiments of their own religion, a subservient reverence for their priesthood, and this principle accompanied them into the Christian church; the priesthood received without reluctance the unbounded homage which was offered to them; their authority grew with that obsequiousness, and their ambition swelled with their authority; and when they found how easily this could be maintained and extended over a credulous people, and how certainly credulity is the offspring of ignorance, they became interested in perpetuating blindness and prejudice.

Some schools indeed still subsisted, and the youth were instructed in what were called the Seven Liberal Arts*; but these, as we learn from Augustin's account of them, consisted only in a number of subtile and useless precepts; and were consequently more adapted to perplex the memory than to strengthen the judgment. The arts in question were grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy; and those were very rare among the scholars whose studies extended beyond the three first. Moral exhortations began now to be commonly confined to the public reading of Books of Martyrs' and Lives of Saints,' by which the passions of the vulgar were excited, and their imaginations prepared for the belief of any imposture which it might be expedient to practise upon them. Such were the materials of Christian life; he shall read no profane books, nor those of the heretics, unless by necessity. He shall take no concern in the execution of wills, nor any care of his domestic affairs, nor plead for any temporal interests. He shall not himself take charge either of the widows, orphans, or strangers, but commit that office to the chief priest-he shall have no other occupation than reading, prayer and preaching. He shall perform no ordinations without the counsel of his clergy, and the consent of the people.' See Fleury, liv. xx., sect. xxxii. We are not to suppose that the above canons were everywhere received, or perhaps strictly enforced any where.

* Mosh., cent. v., p. xi., c. i.

literature during the fifth and sixth centuries, and such they continued with very little alteration until the eleventh.

Justinian.

Some remnants of the philosophy of ancient Greece still lingered at Athens; and a few degenerate descendants of Plato, ArisEdict of totle or Zeno, still exhibited in their half deserted schools the shadow of the lore of former ages. Those teachers had been encouraged by M. Antoninus and Julian, and tolerated by the Christian Emperors, and they may have constituted the wisest, and probably the most virtuous portion of the Pagan population; but they had gradually dwindled away into obscurity and insignificance. Nevertheless, Justinian considered their existence as inconsistent with the principles of his government, and consequently issued (in the year 529) that celebrated edict which closed the schools of Athens for ever. The historian of the Church of Christ need not fear to celebrate any judicious exertions to enlighten and dignify mankind. And in so far as the genius of philosophy has been employed in the discovery of moral truth, and in effectual exhortations to virtue and magnanimity; in so far as it has taught the science of government on sound and practical principles; in so far as its researches have had no other object than truth, and truth which was convertible to the service and improvement of society-so far we respect its exertions and honour its name, and disdain the narrow policy which completed its extinction. But we are bound to admit, that, long before the period in question, the abuse of reason had so far supplanted its proper exercise, and perverted its noble character and purposes, that it constituted in fact the most active portion of the systems then called philosophical-just as the abuses of religion were then beginning to form the most conspicuous part of the Catholic system. To the connexion of Christianity with philosophy several of those abuses may be attributed; for at the first moment of their contact, while religion was yet pure, philosophy was already deeply and vitally corrupted; and the infection of bad principles, whether of reasoning or morality, was too easily communicated. And thus religion, which is indeed the friend of that true and useful philosophy whose object is the advancement of society and the happiness of man, became stained and degraded by its alliance with controversial sophistry. There is also another reflection which lessens the indignation so naturally excited in every generous mind by the edict of Justinian. The philosophers had declared war against Christianity at an early period; to their malignity the last and severest persecution may be partly attributed, and the more dangerous aggressions of Julian were conducted by their spirit, if not by their counsel; so that, if we cannot excuse the severe retaliation, which Christianity, in her time of triumph, more effectually inflicted, at least our compassion for the sufferer is diminished by the recollection of its hostility and its vices. The exiled philosophers (seven in number) at first took refuge at the court of Persia; but finding none of the moral advantages which they professed to expect under a different form of government and worship, they were presently contented to return, on certain stipulations, and terminate their days under a Christian monarch.

We can scarcely believe that the character of Christian literature was so deeply affected by that act of Justinian, as some imagine. Mosheim* appears to consider it as having occasioned particularly the extinction of the New Academy, (the descendant of the Platonic school,) and the substi

* Cent. vi., p. ii., c. i. In another place he seems inclined to attribute the same result (and perhaps with rather more probability) to the decision of the fifth General Council, by which some of the opinions of Origen, who was a New Platonician, were condemned.

tution of the system of Aristotle. It is, indeed, well known that about this period the latter philosophy was gradually gaining ground upon the former in the Christian schools, probably because it was better suited to the contentious spirit of the age; and whatever evils had heretofore been occasioned in the Church by too great reverence for the authority of Plato, and by the boldness of his followers, much more extensive and more durable calamities were afterwards inflicted upon the Christian world by the universal submission of the human mind to the name of Aristotle. But we are not persuaded that this change was brought about violently: or that the edict, which silenced a few obscure Pagan philosophers, at all generally influenced the learning of Christians; or that any act of legislation could suddenly have effected so general an alteration in the studies and intellectual pursuits of an extensive empire. These mighty changes usually result from the patient operation of general principles upon the morals and habits of a people-the caprice of a monarch has no power to create them; and, perhaps, it is the commonest mistake of historians to attribute too much to the edicts of Sovereigns, and too little to the unceasing movement and agitation of civilized society.

Morality.

Respecting the condition of morals during this period it is impossible to speak with equal definiteness; some indeed do not hesitate to describe them as exceedingly depraved, and as being in no respect better upheld by the clergy than by the laity and true it is, that certain laws were enacted, with the specific object of securing the morality, and even of punishing the offences, of the priesthood; indeed when we consider the sort of immunity from civil tribunals which that body in those times enjoyed, we are not surprised that too great general indulgence led to the imposition of occasional and particular restraints. But these by no means prove its universal corruption. The increased wealth of the Church is mentioned as another and a necessary reason of its increased degradation. But we should not be too indiscriminate in our inference of evil from that cause; the ill effects of ecclesiastical wealth, which is generally diffused among the clergy with very great inequality, would be chiefly confined to the more elevated and ambitious members of the hierarchy, and would scarcely extend to the lower and more numerous ranks of the ministry; besides which we should recollect that it is at least as common an effect of wealth to enlarge and exalt, as to debase, the character of its possessor. Even were this not so, the Church, in the sixth century, had certainly not arrived at any dangerous degree of opulence, since the sources, which in after ages so profusely supplied it, were scarcely yet opened. At the same time, the steady progress of religion, the general conversion of the barbarian conquerors, and the devotion of the converts to their priesthood, are scarcely consistent with the gross immorality, and even total contempt of decency, with which Mosheim charges that ordert. And therefore, * Mosheim, cent. vi., p. ii., c. ii.

Whence so many laws to restrain the vices and preserve the morals of the ecclesiastical orders, if they had fulfilled even the obligations of external decency, or shown, in the general tenor of their conduct, a certain degree of respect for religion or virtue. Be that as it will, the effects of all these laws and edicts were so inconsiderable as to be hardly perceived; for so high was the veneration paid at this time to the clergy, that their most flagitious crimes were corrected by the slightest and gentlest punishments: an unhappy circumstance, which added to their presumption, and rendered them more daring and audacious in iniquity. These are Mosheim's words; and some will think that they carry their own confutation with them. At least we may safely believe, that the flagrant offences of a few notorious individuals have been darkly reflected upon the whole body; and such has been the misfortune of the Christian priesthood in every age.

without advocating its perfect moral purity, which again would have been strangely at variance with the superstitious spirit which already vitiated the faith, we need not hesitate to believe, that the great majority of its members continued with zeal, though in silence, to execute their offices of piety, and that, though stained by individual transgression and scandal, the body was very far removed from general degradation, either in the Eastern or Western empire.

Hitherto we have spoken of the clergy only, and the general morality of the age would to a great extent be regulated by the conduct of that body. But the political prostration of the Western provinces, overrun by so many savage tribes-the rapid dissolution of the old governments without any stability in those which succeeded them-the subversion of legal security, the substitution of military and barbarous licence-these and other circumstances, aggravating the usual miseries of conquest, occasioned, wheresoever they extended, more absolute wretchedness, both individual and national, than had hitherto been recorded in the history of man; insomuch, that among those who beheld and shared those inflictions, there were many who regarded them as special demonstrations of divine wrath. And as men are ever prone to attribute such chastisements to the most striking revolution of their own day, and as the subversion of the temples of their ancestors was still recent in their memory, some there were who ascribed the anger of the Gods to the establishment and prevalence of Christianity. Since the appearance of that impiety (they said) the Roman power has incessantly declined. The Gods, the founders and protectors of that empire, have withdrawn their succour, as their service has been neglected; and now that it has been entirely repressed, now that their sanctuaries are closed, and their sacrifices, auguries and other propitiations rigorously prohibited, they have at length abandoned us wholly, and left the once victorious Rome to be a prey to barbarians*. foolish delusion was immediately and successfully combated by the eloquence of St. Augustin. In his noble composition, The City of Godt,' he confuted the error by irrefragable arguments, and conclusive appeals to the evidence of profane history; and inculcated the more reasonable opinion, that the temporal afflictions which God permitted to devastate the empire were chastisements inflicted by a just Providence for the

*Fleury, H. E., 'liv. xxiii., sect. vii.

This

+ The work was published in 426, after thirteen years had been employed in its composition. It consists of twenty-two books, of which the ten first are devoted to the confutation of the various errors of Paganism, and among others of that which we have now mentioned; while the twelve last establish the truth of Christianity.

Thirteen years afterwards Carthage was sacked by the Vandals; and Salvian, a presbyter of Marseilles, a contemporary author, also considers that event as a signal example of divine justice; and he enlarges with great fervour on the exceeding corruption of that great city. It seemed as if the inhabitants had entirely taken leave of reasonthe streets were filled with drunkards crowned with flowers and perfumes, and infested with every possible snare against chastity; adulteries, and the most abominable impurities were the commonest of all things, and they were publicly practised with the extreme of impudence. The orphans and widows were oppressed, and the poor were tortured to such despair, that they prayed God to deliver the city to the barbarians. Blasphemies, too, and impiety reigned there; many, though professedly Christians, were at heart Pagans, and worshipped the celestial Goddess with entire devotion. Besides which (he adds), the people had an extreme contempt and aversion for the Monks, however holy they might be. The description is probably exaggerated-yet ecclesiastical historians almost universally admit the corruption of Christians to have been the cause of their chastisement. Baronius adds another reason—the prevalence of heresy. At the year 412, he asserts— Barbari prævalent ubi. hæreses vigent; and in other places (ann. 410, 428) declares, that the former might easily have been subdued, if the latter could have been expelled; and