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BOOK I.
CHAPTER III.
GREGORY’S EDUCATION
GREGORY’S father, Gordianus, was a member of a class
which, in the fifth century at least, was accustomed to pride itself on its
culture scarcely less than on its aristocratic origin. The tone of good
society, when Gordianus was a boy, was distinctly literary. The nobles of the
period modelled themselves according to the patterns set by Symmachus and
Sidonius; affected cultured tastes, scribbled verses, composed elaborate
letters, were devoted to the classics, and cherished a fastidious literary
sense. By the middle of the sixth century, this lettered society had well-nigh
vanished in Italy, and perhaps its extinction was not entirely to be regretted.
But those who had been educated after the old traditions doubtless retained a
tender recollection of the interests of their youth, and set a high value on a
literary training. It may have been some such sentiment as this which prompted
Gordianus to expend peculiar pains upon the education of his son. At any rate,
we know that he procured for Gregory the best training to be had in the arts
most studied at this time; and it was, in no slight degree, to this foresight
on his father's part that Gregory owed his subsequent success in life. As
Chrysostom says, a good education is the best legacy that a parent can bequeath
to a son.
The general course of Gregory’s studies may be briefly
outlined.
As soon as he was of an age to learn, the boy would
have been handed over to a “grammatistes”, or
preparatory teacher (litterarum primus informator), from whom he would receive an elementary
training in reading, writing, and cultivating the memory by learning off
passages of Virgil or Holy Scripture. After a few years spent on the rudiments,
he would enter on a course of higher education, and begin to attend the
lectures of the professors.
Rome was once the seat of a distinguished University,
supported (at least in Imperial times) by the State. Vespasian made a liberal
provision for the teachers of the capital, and Hadrian and the Antonines were forward in helping on the cause of humanism;
Alexander Severus endowed professorships of rhetoric, founded exhibitions for
poor scholars, and erected class-rooms; Constantine relieved professors from
public burdens, decreeing also heavy punishments against any who should offer
outrage to their persons; and Julian, while excluding Christians from the
chairs of grammar and rhetoric, proved himself in other respects an enlightened
patron of education. So again, in accordance with an edict of Theodosius and
Valentinian, there were established at Rome ten grammarians and three rhetors
for Latin, ten grammarians and five rhetors for Greek, one professor of
dialectic, and two of law. At the close of the fifth century, indeed, the
University of Rome was no longer so flourishing as it had once been, yet Sidonius
still alludes to it as the seat of law and the abode of learning; and we learn
from Ennodius that in his time young men from the provinces continued to visit
it in search of a liberal education. Theodoric certainly showed his
enlightenment by extending his protection to the schools; and during the
regency of his daughter, Amalasuntha, handsome salaries were granted to the
professors of grammar, rhetoric, and law, and Cassiodorus could proudly declare
that "whereas other districts furnish wine, balsams, and aromatic herbs,
Rome dispenses the gift of eloquence, to which it is inexpressibly sweet to
listen." This same veteran statesman consistently used his political power
for the promotion of public education and intellectual studies. He even
attempted to induce Pope Agapetus to found at Rome a great theological school,
similar to those of Alexandria and Nisibis. But the outbreak of the Gothic War
cut short all plans of university extension, and in the stormy years that
followed, the Roman University was brought to the verge of ruin. The State
ceased to make the usual grants. The more distinguished teachers transferred
themselves to Constantinople or Berytus, or retired
into private life. Their pupils left their books to learn more practical
lessons in the school of war. Lectures ceased, and the class-rooms were closed.
With the settlement, however, the necessities of
education began once more to make themselves felt. The University was reopened,
and Justinian assigned salaries to professors of grammar, rhetoric, medicine,
and jurisprudence. But it is unlikely that the doctors of the first rank
returned to their lecture-halls. The University had lost prestige. Culture was
no longer fashionable. The men of wealth and refinement had perished or
migrated, and the last admirer of classic literature had shut himself up in a
monastery. Nor were the necessary funds forthcoming; for it is more than
doubtful whether the salaries guaranteed by Justinian were ever paid, while the
Church, which had the means of endowing learning, lacked the will to do so.
Further, the Gothic War almost certainly involved the destruction of the
libraries. It is just possible, though unlikely, that the Palatine Library
still survived; but the Libraries of Trajan and most of those belonging to
private owners without doubt had perished. It is true that in the Lateran and
elsewhere new collections were being made. These, however, were purely
ecclesiastical, and also, as we learn from Gregory’s letters, still very
defective. Thus it appears that, at the time of Gregory's schooling, the Roman
University had fallen on evil fortunes. In the science and practice of medicine
it was still pre-eminent. It was also one of the three schools authorized by
Justinian to teach the science of law. Yet even legal knowledge declined in
Rome soon after the promulgation of Justinian's legislation, and in other
respects also the Roman University was far surpassed by those which could offer
greater attractions to teachers of ability.
When these facts are taken into consideration, it can
scarcely be maintained that Gregory received a first-rate education. He had,
however, the best that could be got at the time, and by comparing some passages
in the "Lives" with a contemporary treatise of Cassiodorus
entitled, De Artibus ac Disciplinis Liberalium Litterarum,
we are able to arrive at a very fair idea of the training to which he was
subjected.
Paul the Deacon tells us that in the arts of grammar,
rhetoric, and dialectic, Gregory was well versed from boyhood, so that,
although these studies were still flourishing in Rome, he was second to none in
his skill in them. And a similar statement is found in Gregory of Tours. Both
writers thus impute to Gregory a remarkable proficiency in the arts at that
period most in vogue.
Of these arts, grammar—called by Isidore "the
source and basis of liberal culture"—was not the least important. Much
more, of course, was then included in this term than modern usage would imply.
As defined by Cassiodorus, grammar meant such a study of the best poets and
orators as would enable the student to write both poetry and prose with
elegance and correctness. It was, in fact, the study of belles-lettres.
The grammarians lectured on ancient authors, interpreted their meaning,
commented on beauties of language and style, pointed out archaisms, furnished
derivations, and dictated elaborate and learned notes upon the subject-matter.
Their teaching combined grammatical analysis with attempts at literary
appreciation. In its earlier stages it "was not above that of a low form
in one of our grammar schools"; in its more ambitious efforts "it
would, in a very unmethodical and perhaps superficial way, correspond in some
degree to the liberal studies of our universities." A course of this kind
must have been of advantage to Gregory in three ways. In the first place, he
would be taught to read correctly, with proper attention to the accent and
expression. Secondly, he would be instructed in the art of composition. It is
true that the standard of excellence was not a high one. The poetry of the
period particularly—that, for instance, of Arator or
Venantius Fortunatus—was extremely decadent; its strange jumble of ideas and
words, its bizarre misrepresentations of Christian thoughts by pagan images,
its strained antiquarianism, frigid elaboration, and ridiculous conceits are
significant of the utter degeneration of literary taste. Nor was the prose much
better. The canons of style were hopelessly debased, and the ideals of teachers
and critics were false and misleading. It is therefore, perhaps, a fortunate
thing that Gregory failed in this respect to catch the spirit of the schools.
He took little interest in the art of composition, made no effort to adorn or
elaborate his style, cared not particularly even for the elementary rules of
grammar. The Latinity of the Dialogues and Morals however,
though certainly not excellent, is yet on the whole respectable, and its
grammatical simplicity contrasts favourably, not only
with the barbarism of a Gregory of Tours, but also with the pedantry and polish
of a Cassiodorus or a Columban. Thirdly, by his studies in grammar, Gregory
would be made acquainted with some of the masterpieces of classical literature.
The authors most studied in the fourth and fifth centuries were Virgil, Horace,
Terence, Statius, and Claudian among the poets; and Sallust, Pliny, and Cicero
of the writers in prose. The same authorities were doubtless read in Gregory's
time. But it must be confessed that the extant works of Gregory exhibit little
or no trace of any study of the classics. Whatever knowledge of ancient
literature he had once possessed, the hard-worked Bishop had obviously
forgotten.
After grammar came the study of rhetoric—"the art
of speaking well on civil questions." Probably Cassiodorus's treatise on
this subject may be taken to represent the textbooks then used in the Roman
schools. It is based upon Cicero and Quintilian, and is of moderate length,
being not much more than a statement of the chief rhetorical forms with
explanations of technical terms, so that to be of much service it would require
to be supplemented by good oral instruction. The rhetorical teaching of this
period was in part theoretical—instruction concerning the divisions of a
discourse, rhythm, varieties of style and the like—and in part practical. The
pupils were exercised in declamation on prescribed subjects, being taught to
debate, to argue, to deliver panegyric or invective, to condense a chain of
ideas into a flowing period. Of these exercises the extant declamations of
Ennodius may stand as typical examples. They are of two kinds. Some are mere
displays of rhetorical skill on purely imaginary subjects—such, e.g., as
"The words of Thetis as she gazed on the corpse of Achilles";
"of Menelaus as he looked on the burning of Troy"; "of Dido
watching the departure of Aeneas"; "of Juno when she saw that Antaeus
was equal in strength to Hercules." Others are set speeches supposed to be
addressed to a public assembly or to judges. Among such orations are the
following: "Against an ambassador who betrayed his country to the
enemy"; "Against a law enacting that priests and vestal virgins shall
be dismissed in safety from a captured city"; "Against a man who
placed a statue of Minerva in a brothel"; " Against a father who
refused to ransom his son from pirates, but afterwards called upon him for
maintenance." Absurd and unreal as were the theses thus debated, these
school exercises were none the less extremely useful to those who were
preparing for a public life. They cultivated and trained the oratorical powers,
and taught the art of manipulating ideas and words with telling effect. And it
must be remembered that in Rome eloquence was the essential condition of
success in public life. Statesmen and churchmen were expected to be able to
speak well. Even the Emperors found it incumbent on them to study oratory, or,
if they themselves lacked the gift of eloquence, at least to retain in their
service professional rhetoricians to compose their speeches. Still more was it
necessary for a preacher to be fluent and convincing, for otherwise he would
never be tolerated by his critical Roman audience. It is not surprising, therefore,
to learn that such celebrated preachers as Ambrose and Augustine started life
as brilliant rhetoricians, and we may conjecture that the foundation of
Gregory's great success as preacher was laid in the training he received in
youth in the rhetorician's class-room.
Dialectic in the sixth century was but little studied.
Sufficient indication of this is found in the fact that whereas the Gothic
Government endowed chairs of grammar, rhetoric, and law, and Justinian
established teachers of grammar, rhetoric, law, and medicine, neither Goth nor
Roman thought it necessary to make provision for a professor of dialectic. And
doubtless the utility of the science would not be obvious to politicians and
practical persons. Nevertheless, though the study of dialectic had declined, it
was not entirely given up, and Cassiodorus devotes to this branch of learning
the most elaborate of all his essays. The manual—if so it may be called—is
based upon Boethius, and, through Boethius, on Aristotle. Expounded by a
judicious teacher, it would convey to pupils a very fair idea of ancient logic.
John the Deacon says that Gregory was "arte philosophus"; but this
phrase can scarcely mean very much. That Gregory had any knowledge of
metaphysical philosophy is extremely unlikely. Jerome says that in his time
hardly any one read Aristotle, and few had heard so much as the name of Plato.
Throughout the fifth century (though here and there we come across a student of
Greek philosophy) the interest in the subject was steadily declining; and when,
in 529, Justinian closed the schools of Athens, and the last philosophers fled
away to seek an ideal republic in Persia, metaphysical speculation altogether
ceased, and all the philosophy thereafter known to the West was that contained
in the works of Cicero, Boethius, and Martianus Capella. But though it is certain
that Gregory was no metaphysician, yet there is another sense in which he might
have been correctly described as a philosopher. In later life he was
undoubtedly versed in ethics, and his grasp of the principles of moral
philosophy have even won for him the appellation of "the Christian
Seneca." It is possible, of course, that in his school-days Gregory heard
lectures on Marcus Aurelius and Seneca, and was initiated, perhaps, into some
of the doctrines of the Nicomachean Ethics. But the manner in which he treats
his problems in the Morals is not academic, and his conclusions seem to be the
result of independent thought. I conceive, therefore, that Gregory's
"philosophy" was taught him by a long and various experience of
mankind. As a study, it is improbable that it formed a part of his university
curriculum.
Besides grammar, rhetoric, and dialectic, Cassiodorus
deals with the so-called mathematical sciences—arithmetic, music, geometry, and
astronomy. But his treatises on all these subjects put together occupy less
space than the essay on rhetoric, and are scarcely more than half as long as
the dissertation on dialectic. They contain, in fact, little beside brief
explanations of some technical terms, and pupils who might desire to go deeper
are referred for guidance to certain standard works—in arithmetic, to Boethius's
translation of Nicomachus; in music, to several Greek and Latin authors; in
geometry, to Boethius's translation of Euclid; in astronomy, to Ptolemaeus. To what extent Gregory studied these subjects
is, of course, a matter of pure conjecture. Elementary arithmetic he must have
learnt at an early age, but there is no evidence that he possessed any
knowledge of its higher branches, "the science of abstract number."
Of astronomy and geometry he seems to have been equally ignorant. For music,
however, he had a natural aptitude, and we have evidence that he devoted to
this study much of his time and attention.
Of science, in the narrower sense of the term, Gregory
knew nothing; and, indeed, there was little to know. The scientific knowledge
of the period is fairly represented in the works of Cassiodorus, and of Isidore
a little later. It is a curious medley of serious arguments and mere fancies,
of quotations from pagan authors and the Bible, of strange etymologies used as
authorities for supposed facts, of deductions from observed facts and from
figurative expressions of Scripture misunderstood, of old mythological stories
and moral and spiritual reflections. Amid this collection of ideas we find much
that is interesting now, much that was doubtless valuable then, but also much
that is fantastic, and not a little that is ludicrous. The following passage,
taken from the De Natura Rerum of Isidore, may serve to
illustrate the manner in which scientific subjects were treated about this
time. In respect of the tides of the sea, Isidore says: “Some persons say that
there are in the depths of ocean certain passages for the winds, as it were the
nostrils of the world. According as the air is alternately sent out or drawn
back along these passages, it causes the sea to rise or fall. Some, however,
hold that the ocean rises with the increase of the moon, and is drawn back
again by certain aerial forces emanating like breath from the moon itself.
Others say that the sun draws up water from the ocean for its flames, and then
diffuses it among the stars to temper their fires. Thus when the sun draws up
the water it makes high tide in the ocean. But whether the waters are raised by
the blowing of winds, or whether they rise with the course of the moon, or fall
by the influence of the sun, is known to God alone, who has made the world, and
who alone understands its meaning. The ocean is incomparable in size,
untraversable in width. Which Clement, the disciple of the Apostle, has endeavoured to express when he says, ‘No one can cross the
ocean or reach the worlds which are beyond it’. But the philosophers say that
beyond the ocean there is no land, and that the sea, like the land, is held
together by a thick atmosphere of clouds ... But why the sea does not become
larger, and why, with such supplies of water from the rivers, it does not rise
in height, the Bishop Clement says is because salt water naturally consumes the
fresh water that comes into it, and thus the saltness of the sea exhausts the
supplies of water it receives, however great they may be. Besides, there is
what the winds carry off, what the vapour and the sun
absorb. We see pools and many hollows dried up in a very short time by the
winds and the sunshine. But Solomon says that unto the place from whence the
rivers come, thither they return again, which must be understood of the sea,
that through certain hidden passages of the deep the waters flow back and
return to their sources, and then as before flow again in their rivers”.
Finally, it is likely that Gregory attended lectures
on jurisprudence. Rome ranked with Berytus and
Constantinople as one of the great legal universities, and it is probable that
the professors of jurisprudence were superior in ability and eminence to the
professors of the other faculties. The education of a boy like Gregory, the son
of a public man and himself destined for public life, would certainly include a
course of legal studies. And for such studies he proved himself pre-eminently
adapted. The clearness with which, in his later correspondence, he is
accustomed to handle complicated concerns, and his entire familiarity with
questions of law, show that his early training was not thrown away.
Such was the general scheme of Gregory's public
education. But it must not be forgotten that the strongest influences brought
to bear upon his youthful mind probably lay outside the schools, in the
religious atmosphere of his home. Gregory was the child of pious parents, and
from his earliest years his thoughts were turned into religious channels. As a
contemporary records, he was “devoted to God from his youth up”. Even when a
boy, he acquired habits of piety which distinguished him from others of his age.
He loved to meditate on the Scriptures, and to listen attentively to the
conversation of his elders, whose words of wisdom he retained in a memory
singularly tenacious. And possibly it was the recollection of these bygone
conferences overheard in his father's house that made Gregory in after-life so
solicitous regarding the surroundings and attendants of the young. “For in
truth”, we find him writing, “the words of those who bring up children will be
as milk if they be good, but as deadly poison if they be evil”.
We hear no more of Gregory for many years. For the
moment, therefore, we take leave of him—a grave boy, wise beyond his age, a
dreamer full of fervent aspirations and religious enthusiasm, a student of
wisdom glad to sit humbly at the feet of older and riper men, a University
scholar without a touch of pedantry, and withal a youth whose character was
shaping in noble lines. Such was Gregory in 554. When we meet him next he will
be a boy no longer.
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