The roots of the great monastic movement which continued for nearly the whole of the Middle Ages run well back into the early Christian centuries. While the beginnings of Monasticism are involved in uncertainty they probably sprang from exaggerated tendencies on the part of individuals, toward lives of privation, hardship, and exposure, of which there were early numerous examples and conspicuous manifestations. These travesties upon devout character and mere abnormalities of religious devotion were not true products of Christian sentiment and ideals but glaring manifestations of morbid self-assertion. This movement was not conterminous nor contemporaneous with the development of Christianity; it existed apart from and prior to Christianity. There were tendencies and examples in the direction here indicated among the Jewish teachers; and it had a large embodiment in the ancient Buddhist as in the modern Indian systems. The central idea of the early ascetics, ever, was that the body is a clog and hindrance to the spirit of man, and hence the assumption of merit in and through the practice of severe austerities and rigid self-abnegation. There were many gross, horrible, and idiotic applications of this practice in the early stages of Christian history as there are in India to-day. The period of its chief ascendency was in the third and fourth centuries.

The monastic movement spread in the fourth century into the extreme West. "Many of the islands around Ireland and Scotland," says Professor Thatcher, "were occupied by the monks, a large number of whom were hermits. Many monasteries were established. The movement became immensely popular, and within a hundred and fifty years there were hundreds of monasteries in the West and thousands of monks in them."72 The order of Benedictines (founded by Benedict of Nursia at the beginning of the sixth century) ran its course and flourished for centuries. The order of Benedictines was followed (not superseded) by a succession of orders modeled somewhat after their earlier precurser. This movement extended its existence and its influence also far into the East as well as to the westward. Syria, Palestine, and Arabia—especially in the region of Mt. Sinai—were thickly studded with monasteries and "literally swarmed with recluses." Jerome, who lived well into the first quarter of the fifth century (died 420 A. D.), wrote at Bethlehem, Palestine, "We daily receive monks from India, and Persia, and Ethiopia."

The monasteries, so widely established during the period we are considering, became the schools and training-houses for the clergy—the only schools for a long period of time. And we are told that the rulers in the West encouraged the monasteries to open schools for boys in connection with their houses. The schools of this period, to be sure, would not compare with those of modern times, but they were the best available—in fact, the only schools; and they were not circumscribed to religious instruction. The testimony of Professor DobschÜtz is that, "All the great fathers of the church insisted upon classical training; so did Jerome himself and Saint Augustine, not to speak of the great classical scholars in Christian bishoprics in the East. And even in the later centuries, when classical civilisation had gone and was only kept up artificially by assiduous reading, it was the church which maintained the right and the necessity of a classical training for the clergy.... There was a time when there was no reading at all outside the clergy and the monasteries, but this reading was a combination of classical and Biblical. That is the great merit of the medieval church."73

The value and the extent of the instruction given in these schools was, for the most part, exceedingly limited, in both range and research. The monasteries were—and continued to be, for long—of far greater significance and service, no doubt, in their relation to literature—to its preservation and also its dissemination—than they were as seats and sources of learning. "If there had not been great abbeys where schools of grammar were established, and where as many books as possible were jealously preserved, perhaps not one Latin writer would have come down to us."74 Most of the monasteries, especially the larger ones, were provided with a "scriptorium" or a writing-room, where the monks with an inclination to literature and those also who were skillful with the pen were required, in the custom of most monasteries, to devote a proportion of every day to the employment of copying books. The large majority of all the scribes, throughout this entire period of a thousand years, were connected with the churches or the monasteries. By their employment in the writing-room worn-out manuscripts were replaced; borrowed books, transcribed, the copies made therefrom being retained at the return of the borrowed book; and thus in these and in other ways, gradually an increasing number of books found a home in the monasteries.

In the business of transcribing books, as often extensively carried on in many monasteries, several monks would sometimes copy manuscripts at the dictation of a reader and thus a number of copies would be produced at the same time. Each copy thus produced, however, was an "individual" and not a "manifold" or duplicate of the others, as in carbon copies or as printed from a type-plate. Writing at the dictation of another was an ancient custom. It may have been practiced in the transcription of the cuneiform tablets. It is affirmed that Jeremiah, the prophet, thus dictated the writing to his faithful scribe, "And they asked Baruch, saying, How didst thou write all these words at his mouth? Then Baruch answered them, He pronounced all these words unto me with his mouth, and I wrote them with ink in the book." (Jeremiah 36:17, 18.) It is possible, or perhaps probable, that the fifty copies of the Scriptures which Constantine is said to have ordered to be made for the churches in and about Constantinople, may all have been produced at the dictation of a single reader. In that event, each respective copy, while collectively made by individual monks in the scriptorium, would bear its own distinct individuality. The copies thus made at dictation would not be facsimiles of one another or a proof copy of the original, but each copy would preserve a special kinship to all the other copies made under the same general conditions. And this is an important consideration in textual criticism—especially in tracing "family" likeness of certain manuscripts. And so, no doubt, from the scriptoria of the monasteries came the books, or many of them, with which the provincial mansions of the nobility and the private and public libraries were supplied. These manuscripts, made by the monks, were afterwards collected (or many of them were) in the libraries of Rome, Florence, Venice, Milan, and elsewhere, as well as those treasured in abbeys and churches.

The monks, who were the principal copyists of the times, fostered distinct traditions of penmanship that led to distinguishing "hands" (page 115). They cultivated, also, not only the science and art of penmanship but the higher art of embellishment and illumination of manuscripts. For this they had both the time and the inspiring motive. From the monasteries of this period issued some of the finest specimens of the book-making industry and art extant in the world. In speaking of the illuminated books of the thirteenth century, Dr. Walsh says that, "Considering the number of them that are still in existence to this day, in spite of the accidents of fire, and water, and war, and neglect, and carelessness, and ignorance, there must have been an immense number of very handsome books made by the generations of the thirteenth century." And, quoting from another author concerning a special manuscript of this period, he says, "Every page is sufficient to make the fortune of the modern decorator by the quaint and unexpected novelties of invention which it displays at every turn of its intricate design."75

Allowing as we must—from the evidence—that monasticism possessed many inherent weaknesses and deficiencies, such as these: It withdrew many useful forces from society; it developed indifference for the family and the family life; it isolated religion from relation to and contact with the world; it nourished and incited materialistic aims and ideals under the garb of superior sanctity; it prompted and promoted fanatical zeal for part truths and whole errors; and other and kindred weaknesses and excesses—and yet, with due recognition of its limitations and perversions, its crudities and idiosyncrasies, it remains true, nevertheless, that monasticism, as a system, made many and important contributions, in various directions and for centuries, to the good of mankind, and furnished the most important link in the chain of events which perpetuated learning and literature in an age when, except for so extraordinary provision and guarantees, they must inevitably have perished. The monastic institution supplied, in a special and adequate manner, through the abbeys and monastic houses in which, so to speak, it was domiciled, a safe asylum and depository for the word of God. The common isolation of these establishments, together with the reputed sanctity of their occupants, were double security against the hand of violence and, therefore, a double means of preservation for the literary treasures—including both the Bible and classic literature—made and treasured therein.

But these affirmations are not to be maintained by reasoning however cogent nor by logic however convincing but by evidence;—by the testimony of the historians for the period in question. The witness of competent historians is summoned in their corroboration. Mr. Lecky declares: "It is undoubted truth that, for a considerable period, almost all the knowledge of Europe was included in the monasteries, and from this it is continually inferred that, had these institutions not existed, knowledge would have been absolutely extinguished.... The monasteries, as corporations of peaceful men protected from the incursions of the barbarians, became very naturally the reservoirs to which the streams of literature flowed; but much of what they are represented as creating, they had in reality only attracted. The inviolable sanctity which they secured rendered them invaluable receptacles of ancient learning in a period of anarchy and perpetual war, and the industry of the monks in transcribing, probably more than counterbalanced their industry in effacing the classical writings."76 "It is certain," say Munro and Sellery, "that we are indebted for the preservation of classical literature as far as it has been preserved, to the monks above all others. For hundreds of years they truly sheltered and preserved the treasures heaped up by those gone before, and also multiplied them through copying.... If the rules of some monastic orders forbade the reading of the pagan authors, the rules of other orders not only permitted it, but made it an express obligation to copy manuscripts. In this way the monks of the tenth, the eleventh, and the twelfth centuries rendered services to civilization which will never be forgotten.... With the foundation of the monasteries by the missionaries, learning and poetry made their entrance into Germany. Many of the writings of this early time are, of course, lost forever; but enough survives to enable us to declare, with certainty, that virtually all who studied and wrote did so in the quiet of the monastic cells."77 Hallam testifies: "The monasteries were subjected to strict rules of discipline, and held out, at the worst, more opportunities for study than the secular clergy possessed, and fewer for worldly dissipations. But their most important service was in the fact that they were the secure repositories for books. All our manuscripts have been preserved in this manner, and they could have hardly descended to us by any other channel; at least there were intervals when I do not conceive that any royal or private libraries existed."78 "The monks were also the civilizers," say Thatcher and Schwill. "Every monastery founded by them became a center of life and learning, and hence a light to the surrounding country. They cleared the lands and brought them under cultivation. They were farmers and taught by their example the dignity of labor in an age when the soldier was the world's hero. They preserved and transmitted much of the civilization of Rome to the barbarians. They were the teachers of the West. Literature and learning found a refuge with them in times of violence."79 "The monks became missionaries," declares Myers, "and it was largely to their zeal and devotion that the Church owed her speedy and signal victory over the barbarians; they also became teachers, and under the shelter of the monasteries established schools which were the nurseries of learning during the Middle Ages; they became copyists, and with great care and industry gathered and multiplied ancient manuscripts, and thus preserved and transmitted to the modern world much classical learning and literature that would otherwise have been lost.... In a word, these retreats were the inns, the asylums, and the hospitals, as well as the schools of learning and the nurseries of religion of medieval Europe."80 Speaking of the monks' contribution to civilization, Professor Emerton gives this estimate: "They opened up vast tracts of land to civilized culture; they helped by their lives of self-denial to keep in the minds of men a standard of morals somewhat higher than their own; they furnished a safe retreat where the spark of learning, beaten out by the violence of the time, might find a quiet corner in which to smoulder at first, and then to flicker up slowly and feebly, yet steadily into a brilliant flame."81 Similar is the witness of Professor Harding: "Each monastery was a settlement complete in itself, surrounded by a wall; and the monks were not allowed to wander at will. New monasteries were often located on waste ground, in swamps, and in dense forests; and by reclaiming such lands and teaching better methods of agriculture the monks rendered a great service to society. Schools were also maintained in connection with the monasteries.... The monks were encouraged to copy and read books."82 Professor Duruy claims that "the Benedictines added agriculture to preaching, and copying manuscripts to prayer. Schools were usually annexed to their convents, and contributed toward the saving of letters from complete ruin."83 Says another: "Only with the revival of learning did literature and art issue out to the world in general; and then the end of the reign of the manuscript was at hand. So, before the decline of monasticism was accomplished, its special work as the exclusive guardian of literature was done; and the secular world was ready to take into its own keeping the heritage of learning which the monks had been so largely instrumental in handing down to it."84 And says Mr. Putnam: "The fall of Constantinople in 1453," (at the very time when Gutenberg was engaged in printing the first book) "and the introduction into Europe of the Turks, was unquestionably a great injury to Europe and to civilization, and the destruction of the collections of manuscripts existing in the capital itself and in the monasteries and libraries in other cities of the Empire, was an irreparable loss for literature. For the educational interests and the literary development of Europe there were, however, considerations to offset this serious disaster. Great as was the destruction of manuscripts, a number were preserved by individual scholars and in the hidden recesses of certain convents and monasteries. Many of these were at once taken to Italy, Germany, and France by the scholars flying from the barbarous conquerors of their land, and the works were thus brought to the knowledge and made available for the use of European students. Others were secured from their hiding places years after the capture of the City, by Greek scholars sent back for the purpose on behalf of the publishers of Italy and France, or of the universities of Bologna, Padua, and Paris, while some few valuable parchments were hidden so safely that they have been forgotten for centuries and are only to-day being brought to light from the vaults and attics of old monasteries, so as again to be included in literature accessible for the world."85

The monasteries, as the tangible and permanent accretion of monasticism, then, may be justly regarded as the centers of learning and sources for the making of books—and by the slow and laborious process of hand-writing. And it was a slow and laborious process even though many copies were made at the same time from the dictation of a single reader. The monasteries became also the depositories wherein the Scriptures, together with other literature, including often the classical writings, were preserved from destruction which the vandal hordes that often devastated large sections of Europe occasioned. The larger ancient libraries, except that at Constantinople, were destroyed through the fanaticism and ruthlessness of Saracen and savage, as these forces swept across northern Africa, overran Europe, and dominated all Bible lands. But in consequence of the previous wide diffusion of books into the monasteries and religious houses of the Roman Empire and beyond—in fact, into all parts of Europe and western Asia—the destruction by vandal, savage, and Saracen was far less sweeping, undoubtedly, than these successive invasions and revolutions—these changes and upheavals in society and government—would otherwise have occasioned. While cities were sacked and burned, castles, palaces, strongholds, and many churches were pillaged and overthrown, and whole countries were laid waste, a measure of immunity from attack was accorded to these religious houses—the homes of the monks and the Orders.

This immunity from attack, secured by the monasteries, was due often, and perhaps chiefly, to the fact of their secluded situations and to the strong defenses of resisting masonry which made subjection and pillage difficult and profitless. The convent of St. Catharine, where Dr. Tischendorf discovered the peerless Sinaitic Manuscript of the Bible in 1859, is an example and illustration. This monastery was perched, as it were, on the precipitous slopes of Mt. Sinai at an altitude of full 5,000 feet above the level of the sea; and, until recently, the only manner of access beyond its solid, massive, and centuries-old masonry, was by means of a crude and primitive "lift" consisting of a chair and rope, controlled by the inmates and operated by a windlass and drum within and above. By this appliance all visitors were "elevated" some twenty or twenty-five feet from its base to the main entrance of the monastery. This arrangement safeguarded the occupants and the contents of this religious stronghold from risk of robbery and violence. These religious houses furnished even greater security by their position and isolation and were generally respected by the fiercest invaders.

The safety of the monks—of peaceful occupation and mien—and of their possessions—almost wholly literary, even in the periods of disorder and violence—was often due to the supposed sacredness of the roofs under which they were sheltered. And even when these asylums were not respected but seized and plundered, the books which they treasured had little or no value in the eyes of the ignorant and hostile invaders, or were hidden away in recesses of the monasteries beyond the reach of prying eyes. And even when the manuscripts of a single monastery, or the monasteries of a given region, were all destroyed, untold numbers of copies—and largely duplicate copies—by reason of their previous extensive dispersion throughout wide areas and secluded regions, were preserved elsewhere to be again brought to light in more favored times, and, finally, at the revival of learning, which awaited the coming of the printing-press.

The thirteenth century has been called "the greatest of centuries," and, mainly, because it was the beginning period of emergence from the 'Dark Ages' and because the hearts of men were beginning to be thrilled with the anticipatory birth-throes of the coming revival of letters. "There is," says Goldwin Smith, "no more romantic period in the history of the human intellect than the thirteenth century." The Italian renaissance in the fourteenth century brought a deepening interest for the old Latin writings, and this, in turn, revived attention to the Greek classics—the fountain-head of the world's pagan literature. The awakening concern for classic literature led the Humanists in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries to ransack the libraries of the monasteries and religious houses in even out-of-the-way places of Europe for all kinds of old manuscripts. Statesmen as well as students gave themselves up to the recovering of the literary and art treasures of Greece and Rome. The Greek empire, the Levant, and all western Europe were ransacked in every nook and corner; and the treasures of the Indies and the libraries of the Levant were bought, says one, "with impartial interest and equal delight."

This was a new and more fruitful kind of crusade, of which Symonds declares, "As the Franks deemed themselves thrice blessed if they returned with relics from Jerusalem, so these new Knights of the Holy Ghost, seeking not the sepulchre of a risen Lord, but the tomb wherein the genius of the ancient world awaited resurrection, felt holy transport when a brown, begrimed and crabbed scrap of some Greek or Latin author rewarded their patient search." And of Petrarch, one of the most enthusiastic searchers for these ancient writings, Myers says: "He made many a long and wearisome journey, with the object of collecting manuscripts. The precious documents were found covered with mold in damp cellars, or loaded with dust in the attics of monasteries. This late search for these remains of classical authors saved to the world hundreds of valuable manuscripts which, a little longer neglected, would have been lost forever." And he says, further, "Libraries were founded where the new treasures might be stored, and copies of the manuscripts were made and distributed among all who could appreciate them."86 For it was a specific outgrowth of these new intellectual and literary impulses which heralded the passing of the "Dark Ages" that came the beginnings of the Vatican Library at Rome. This renowned library was established by Pope Nicholas V. at about the same date as the invention of printing and concurred with that invention to make effective for all time to come the revival of learning and of letters. We have come back from our far-journeying to our starting point, the invention of printing, and perhaps cannot more fitly conclude this discussion than in the words of Lord Macaulay in his tribute to that great patron of learning after the "Dark Ages," Pope Nicholas V.: "By him was founded the Vatican Library, then and long after, the most precious and the most extensive collection of books in the world. By him, were carefully preserved the most valuable treasures which had been snatched from the ruins of the Byzantine Empire. His agents were to be found everywhere—in the bazaars of the farthest East, in the monasteries of the farthest West—purchasing or copying worm-eaten parchments, on which were traced words worthy of immortality."