<h1>IX <br/> LIBRARIES AND BOOKMEN.</h1>
<p>As the Thirteenth Century begins some 250 years before the art of
printing was introduced, it would seem idle to talk of libraries and
especially of circulating libraries during this period and quite as
futile to talk of bookmen and book collectors. Any such false
impression, however, is founded entirely upon a lack of knowledge of
the true state of affairs during this wonderful period. A diocesan
council held in Paris in the year 1212, with other words of advice to
religious, recalled to them the duty that they had to lend such books
as they might possess, with proper guarantee for their return, of
course, to those who might make good use of them. The council, indeed,
formally declared that the lending of books was one of the works of
mercy. The Cathedral chapter of Notre Dame at Paris was one of the
leaders in this matter and there are records of their having lent many
books during the Thirteenth Century. At most of the abbeys around
Paris there were considerable libraries and in them also the lending
custom obtained. This is especially true of the Abbey of St. Victor of
which the rule and records are extant.</p>
<p>Of course it will be realized that the number of books was not large,
but on the other hand it must not be forgotten that many of them were
works of art in every particular, and some of them that have come down
to us continue to be even to the present day among the most precious
bibliophilic treasures of great state and city libraries. Their value
depends not alone on their antiquity but on their perfection as works
of art. In general it may be said that the missals and office books,
and the prayer books made for royal personages and the nobility at
this time, are yet counted among the best examples of bookmaking the
world has ever seen. It is not surprising that such should be the case
since these books were mainly meant for use in the Cathedrals and the
chapels, and these edifices were so beautiful in every detail that the
generations that erected them could not think of making books
for use in them, that would be unworthy of the artistic environment
for which they were intended. With the candlesticks, the vessels, and
implements used in the ceremonial surpassing works of art, with every
form of decoration so nearly perfect as to be a source of unending
admiration, with the vestments and altar linens specimens of the most
exquisite handiwork of their kind that had ever been made, the books
associated with them had to be excellent in execution, expressive of
the most refined taste and finished with an attention utterly careless
of the time and labor that might be required, since the sole object
was to make everything as absolutely beautiful as possible. Hence
there is no dearth of wonderful examples of the beautiful bookmaking
of this century in all the great libraries of the world.</p>
<p>The libraries themselves, moreover, are of surpassing interest because
of their rules and management, for little as it might be expected this
wonderful century anticipated in these matters most of our very modern
library regulations. The bookmen of the time not only made beautiful
books, but they made every provision to secure their free circulation
and to make them available to as many people as was consonant with
proper care of the books and the true purposes of libraries. This is a
chapter of Thirteenth Century history more ignored perhaps than any
other, but which deserves to be known and will appeal to our century
more perhaps than to any intervening period.</p>
<p>The constitutions of the Abbey St. Victor of Paris give us an
excellent idea at once of the solicitude with which the books were
guarded, yet also of the careful effort that was made to render them
useful to as many persons as possible. One of the most important rules
at St. Victor was that the librarian should know the contents of every
volume in the library, in order to be able to direct those who might
wish to consult the books in their selection, and while thus sparing
the books unnecessary handling also save the readers precious time. We
are apt to think that it is only in very modern times that this
training of librarians to know their books so as to be of help to the
readers was insisted on. Here, however, we find it in full force seven
centuries ago. It would be much more difficult in the present day to
know all the books confided to his care, but some of the
librarians at St. Victor were noted for the perfection of their
knowledge in this regard and were often consulted by those who were
interested in various subjects.</p>
<p>In his book on the Thirteenth Century [Footnote 15 ] M. A. Lecoy de
la Marche says that in France, at least, circulating libraries were
quite common. As might be expected of the people of so practical a
century, it was they who first established the rule that a book might
be taken out provided its value were deposited by the borrower. Such
lending libraries were to be found at the Sorbonne, at St. Germain des
Prés, as well as at Notre Dame. There was also a famous library at
this time at Corbie but practically every one of the large abbeys had
a library from which books could be obtained. Certain of the castles
of the nobility, as for instance that of La Ferte en Ponthieu, had
libraries, with regard to which there is a record, that the librarian
had the custom of lending certain volumes, provided the person was
known to him and assumed responsibility for the book.</p>
<p class="footnote">
[Footnote 15: Le Treizieme Siecle Litteraire et Scientifique, Lille,
1857.]</p>
<p>Some of the regulations of the libraries of the century have an
interest all their own from the exact care that was required with
regard to the books. The Sorbonne for instance by rule inflicted a
fine upon anyone who neglected to close large volumes after he had
been making use of them. Many a librarian of the modern times would be
glad to put into effect such a regulation as this. A severe fine was
inflicted upon any library assistant who allowed a stranger to go into
the library alone, and another for anyone who did not take care to
close the doors. It seems not unlikely that these regulations, as M.
Lecoy de la Marche says, were in vigor in many of the ecclesiastical
and secular libraries of the time.</p>
<p>Some of the regulations of St. Victor are quite as interesting and
show the liberal spirit of the time as well as indicate how completely
what is most modern in library management was anticipated. The
librarian had the charge of all the books of the community, was
required to have a detailed list of them and each year to have them in
his possession at least three times. On him was placed the obligation
to see that the books were not destroyed in any way, either by
parasites of any kind or by dampness. The librarian was required
to arrange the books in such a manner as to make the finding of them
prompt and easy. No book was allowed to be borrowed unless some pledge
for its safe return were left with the librarian. This was emphasized
particularly for strangers who must give a pledge equal to the value
of the book. In all cases, however, the name of the borrower had to be
taken, also the title of the book borrowed, and the kind of pledge
left. The larger and more precious books could not be borrowed without
the special permission of the superior.</p>
<p>The origin of the various libraries in Paris is very interesting as
proof that the mode of accumulating books was nearly the same as that
which enriches university and other such libraries at the present
time. The library of La St. Chapelle was founded by Louis IX, and
being continuously enriched by the deposit therein of the archives of
the kingdom soon became of first importance. Many precious volumes
that were given as presents to St. Louis found their way into this
library and made it during his lifetime the most valuable collection
of books in Paris. Louis, moreover, devoted much time and money to
adding to the library. He made it a point whenever on his journeys he
stopped, at abbeys or other ecclesiastical institutions, to find out
what books were in their library that were not at La Saint Chapelle
and had copies of these made. His intimate friendship with Robert of
Sorbonne, with St. Thomas of Aquin, with Saint Bonaventure, and above
all with Vincent of Beauvais, the famous encyclopedist of the century,
widened his interest in books and must have made him an excellent
judge of what he ought to procure to complete the library. It was, as
we shall see, Louis' munificent patronage that enabled Vincent to
accumulate that precious store of medieval knowledge, which was to
prove a mine of information for so many subsequent generations.</p>
<p>From the earliest times certain books, mainly on medicine, were
collected at the Hotel Dieu, the great hospital of Paris, and this
collection was added to from time to time by the bequests of
physicians in attendance there. This was doubtless the first regular
hospital library, though probably medical books had also been
collected at Salernum. The principal colleges of the universities also
made collections of books, some of them very valuable, though as
a rule, it would seem as if no attempt was made to procure any other
books than those which were absolutely needed for consultation by the
students. The best working library at Paris was undoubtedly that of
the Sorbonne, of which indeed its books were for a long time its only
treasures. For at first the Sorbonne was nothing but a teaching
institution which only required rooms for its lectures, and usually
obtained these either from the university authorities or from the
Canons of the Cathedral and possessed no property except its library.
From the very beginning the professors bequeathed whatever books they
had collected to its library and this became a custom. It is easy to
understand that within a very short time the library became one of the
very best in Europe. While most of the other libraries were devoted
mainly to sacred literature, the Sorbonne came to possess a large
number of works of profane literature. Interesting details with regard
to this library of the Sorbonne and its precious treasures have been
given by M. Leopold Delisle, in the second volume of Le Cabinet des
Manuserits, describing the MSS. of the Bibliothèque Nationale at
Paris. According to M. Lecoy de la Marche, this gives an excellent
idea of the persevering efforts which must have been required, to
bring together so many bibliographic treasures at a time when books
were such a rarity, and consequently enables us better almost than
anything else, to appreciate the enthusiasm of the scholars of these
early times and their wonderful efforts to make the acquisition of
knowledge easier, not only for their own but for succeeding
generations. When we recall that the library of the Sorbonne was,
during the Thirteenth Century, open not only to the professors and
students of the Sorbonne itself, but also to those interested in books
and in literature who might come from elsewhere, provided they were
properly accredited, we can realize to the full the thorough
liberality of spirit of these early scholars. Usually we are prone to
consider that this liberality of spirit, even in educational matters,
came much later into the world.</p>
<p>In spite of the regulations demanding the greatest care, it is easy to
understand that after a time even books written on vellum or parchment
would become disfigured and worn under the ardent fingers of
enthusiastic students, when comparatively so few copies were
available for general use. In order to replace these worn-out copies
every abbey had its own scriptorium or writing room, where especially
the younger monks who were gifted with plain handwriting were required
to devote certain hours every day to the copying of manuscripts.
Manuscripts were borrowed from neighboring libraries and copied, or as
in our modern day exchanges of duplicate copies were made, so as to
avoid the risk that precious manuscripts might be subject to on the
journeys from one abbey to another. How much the duty of transcription
was valued may be appreciated from the fact, that in some abbeys every
novice was expected to bring on the day of his profession as a
religious, a volume of considerable size which had been carefully
copied by his own hands.</p>
<p>Besides these methods of increasing the number of books in the
library, a special sum of money was set aside in most of the abbeys
for the procuring of additional volumes for the library by purchase.
Usually this took the form of an ecclesiastical regulation requiring
that a certain percentage of the revenues should be spent on the
libraries. Scholars closely associated with monasteries frequently
bequeathed their books and besides left money or incomes to be
especially devoted to the improvement of the library. It is easy to
understand that with all these sources of enrichment many abbeys
possessed noteworthy libraries. To quote only those of France,
important collections of books were to be found at Cluny, Luxeuil,
Fleury, Saint-Martial, Moissac, Mortemer, Savigny, Fourcarmont, Saint
Père de Chartres, Saint Denis, Saint-Maur-des-Fossés, Saint Corneille
de Compiègne, Corbie, Saint-Amand, Saint-Martin de Tournai, where
Vincent de Beauvais said that he found the greatest collections of
manuscripts that existed in his time, and then especially the great
Parisian abbeys already referred to, Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Saint
Victor, Saint-Martin-des-Champs, the precious treasures of which are
well known to all those who are familiar with the Bibliothèque
Nationale of Paris, of whose manuscript department their relics
constitute the most valuable nucleus.</p>
<p>Some of the bequests of books that were made to libraries at this time
are interesting, because they show the spirit of the testators
and at the same time furnish valuable hints as to the consideration in
which books were held and the reverent care of their possessors for
them. Peter of Nemours, the Bishop of Paris, when setting out on the
crusades with Louis IX. bequeathed to the famous Abbey of St. Victor,
his Bible in 22 volumes, which was considered one of the finest copies
of the scriptures at that time in existence. To the Abbey of Olivet he
gave his Psalter with Glosses, besides the Epistles of St. Paul and
his Book of Sentences, by which is evidently intended the well-known
work with that title by the famous Peter Lombard. Finally he gave to
the Cathedral of Paris all the rest of his books. Besides these he had
very little to leave. It is typical of the reputation of Paris in that
century and the devotion of her churchmen to learning and culture,
that practically all of the revenues that he considered due him for
his personal services had been invested in books, which he then
disposed of in such a way as would secure their doing the greatest
possible good to the largest number of people. His Bible was evidently
given to the abbey of St. Victor because it was the sort of work that
should be kept for the occasional reference of the learned rather than
the frequent consultation of students, who might very well find all
that they desired in other and less valuable copies. His practical
intention with regard to his books can be best judged from his gift to
Notre Dame, which, as we have noted already possessed a very valuable
library that was allowed to circulate among properly accredited
scholars in Paris.</p>
<p>According to the will of Peter Ameil, Archbishop of Narbonne, which is
dated 1238, he gave his books for the use of the scholars whom he had
supported at the University of Paris and they were to be deposited in
the Library at Notre Dame, but on condition that they were not to be
scattered for any reason nor any of them sold or abused. The effort of
the booklover to keep his books together is characteristic of all the
centuries since, only most people will be surprised to find it
manifesting itself so early in bibliophilic history. The Archbishop
reserved from his books, however, his Bible for his own church. Before
his death he had given the Dominicans in his diocese many books from
his library. This churchman of the first half of the Thirteenth
Century seems evidently to deserve a prominent place among the bookmen
of all times.</p>
<p>There are records of many others who bequeathed libraries and gave
books during their lifetime to various institutions, as may be found
in the Literary History of France, [Footnote 16] already mentioned,
as well as in the various histories of the University of Paris. Many
of these gifts were made on condition that they should not be sold and
the constantly recurring condition made by these booklovers is that
their collections should be kept together. The libraries of Paris were
also in the market for books, however, and there is proof that the
Sorbonne purchased a number of volumes because the cost price of them
was noted inside the cover quite as libraries do in our own days. When
we realize the forbidding cost of them, it is surprising that there
should be so much to say about them and so many of them constantly
changing hands. An ordinary folio volume probably cost from 400 to 500
francs in our values, that is between $80 and $100.</p>
<p class="footnote">
[Footnote 16: Histoire Litteraire de la France, by the Benedictines
of St. Maur.]</p>
<p>While the older abbeys of the Benedictines and other earlier religious
orders possessed magnificent collections of books, the newer orders of
the Thirteenth Century, the Mendicants, though as their name indicates
they were bound to live by alms given them by the faithful, within a
short time after their foundation began to take a prominent part in
the library movement. It was in the southern part of France that the
Dominicans were strongest and so there is record of regulations for
libraries made at Toulouse in the early part of the Thirteenth
Century. In Paris, in 1239, considerable time and discussion was
devoted in one of the chapters of the order to the question of how
books should be kept, and how the library should be increased. With
regard to the Franciscans, though their poverty was, if possible,
stricter, the same thing is known before the end of the century. In
both orders arrangements were made for the copying of important works
and it is, of course, to the zeal and enthusiasm of the younger
members of these orders for this copying work, that we owe the
preservation by means of a large number of manuscript copies, of the
voluminous writings of such men as Albertus Magnus, St. Thomas,
Duns Scotus and others.</p>
<SPAN name="opp156">{opp156}</SPAN>
<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp156.jpg" border=1><br/>
MONUMENT OF CARDINAL DE BRAY (ARNOLFO)</p>
<p>While the existence of libraries of various kinds, and even
circulating libraries, in the Thirteenth Century may seem definitely
settled, it will appear to most people that to speak of book
collecting at this time must be out of place. That fad is usually
presumed to be of much later origin and indeed to be comparatively
recent in its manifestations. We have said enough already, however, of
the various collections of books in libraries especially in France to
show that the book collector was abroad, but there is much more direct
evidence of this available from an English writer. Richard de Bury's
Philobiblon is very well known to all who are interested in books for
their own sake, but few people realize that this book practically had
its origin in the Thirteenth Century. The writer was born about the
beginning of the last quarter of that century, had completed his
education before its close, and it is only reasonable to attribute to
the formative influences at work in his intellectual development as a
young man, the germs of thought from which were to come in later life
the interesting book on bibliophily, the first of its kind, which was
to be a treasure for book-lovers ever afterwards.</p>
<p>Philobiblon tells us, among other things, of Richard's visits to the
continent on an Embassy to the Holy See and on subsequent occasions to
the Court of France, and the delight which he experienced in handling
many books which he had never seen before, in buying such of them as
his purse would allow, or his enthusiasm could tempt from their owners
and in conversing with those who could tell him about books and their
contents. Such men were the chosen comrades of his journeys, sat with
him at table, as Mr. Henry Morley tells us in his English Writers
(volume IV, page 51), and were in almost constant fellowship with him.
It was at Paris particularly that Richard's heart was satisfied for a
time because of the great treasures he found in the magnificent
libraries of that city. He was interested, of course, in the
University and the opportunity for intellectual employment afforded by
Academic proceedings, but above all he found delight in books, which
monks and monarchs and professors and churchmen of all kinds and
scholars and students had gathered into this great intellectual
capital of Europe at that time. Anyone who thinks the books were not
valued quite as highly in the Thirteenth Century as at the present
time should read the Philobiblon. He is apt to rise from the reading
of it with the thought that it is the modern generations who do not
properly appreciate books.</p>
<p>One of the early chapters of Philobiblon argues that books ought
always to be bought whatever they cost, provided there are means to
pay for them, except in two cases, "when they are knavishly
overcharged, or when a better time for buying is expected." "That sun
of men, Solomon," Richard says, "bids us buy books readily and sell
them unwillingly, for one of his proverbs runs, 'Buy the truth and
sell it not, also wisdom and instruction and understanding.'" Richard
in his own quaint way thought that most other interests in life were
only temptations to-draw men away from books. In one famous paragraph
he has naively personified books as complaining with regard to the
lack of attention men now display for them and the unworthy objects,
in Richard's eyes at least, upon which they fasten their affections
instead, and which take them away from the only great life interest
that is really worth while—books.</p>
<p>"Yet," complain books, "in these evil times we are cast out of our
place in the inner chamber, turned out of doors, and our place taken
by dogs, birds, and the two-legged beast called woman. But that beast
has always been our rival, and when she spies us in a corner, with no
better protection than the web of a dead spider, she drags us out with
a frown and violent speech, laughing us to scorn as useless, and soon
counsels us to be changed into costly head-gear, fine linen, silk and
scarlet double dyed, dresses and divers trimmings, linens and woolens.
And so," complain the books still, "we are turned out of our homes,
our coats are torn from our backs, our backs and sides ache, we lie
about disabled, our natural whiteness turns to yellow—without doubt
we have the jaundice. Some of us are gouty, witness our twisted
extremities. Our bellies are griped and wrenched and are consumed by
worms; on each side the dirt cleaves to us, nobody binds up our
wounds, we lie ragged and weep in dark corners, or meet with Job upon
a dunghill, or, as seems hardly fit to be said, we are hidden in
abysses of the sewers. We are sold also like slaves, and lie as
unredeemed pledges in taverns. We are thrust into cruel butteries, to
be cut up like sheep and cattle; committed to Jews, Saracens, heretics
and Pagans, whom we always dread as the plague, and by whom some of
our forefathers are known to have been poisoned."</p>
<p>Richard De Bury must not be thought to have been some mere wandering
scholar of the beginning of the Fourteenth Century, however, for he
was, perhaps, the most important historical personage, not even
excepting royalty or nobility, of this era and one of the striking
examples of how high a mere scholar might rise in this period quite
apart from any achievement in arms, though this is usually supposed to
be almost the only basis of distinguished reputation and the reason
for advancement at this time. While he was only the son of a Norman
knight, Aungervyle by name, born at Bury St. Edmund's, he became the
steward of the palace and treasurer of the royal wardrobe, then Lord
Treasurer of England and finally Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal. While
on a mission to the Pope he so commended himself to the Holy See that
it was resolved to make him the next English bishop. Accordingly he
was made Bishop of Durham shortly after and on the occasion of his
installation there was a great banquet at which the young King and
Queen, the Queen Mother Isabelle, the King of Scotland, two
Archbishops, five bishops, and most of the great English lords were
present. At this time the Scots and the English were actually engaged
in war with one another and a special truce was declared, in order to
allow them to join in the celebration of the consecration of so
distinguished an individual to the See of Durham near the frontier.</p>
<p>Before he was consecrated Bishop, Richard De Bury had been for some
time the treasurer of the kingdom. Before the end of the year in which
he was consecrated he became Lord Chancellor, at a time when the
affairs of the kingdom needed a master hand and when the French and
the Scots were seriously disturbing English peace and prosperity. He
resigned his office of Chancellor, as Henry Morley states, only to go
abroad in the royal service as ambassador that he might exercise his
own trusted sagacity in carrying out the peaceful policy he had
advised. During this diplomatic mission to the continent he visited
the courts of Paris, of Flanders, of Hainault and of Germany. He
succeeded in making terms of peace between the English king and the
Counts of Hainault and Namur, the Marquis of Juliers and the Dukes of
Brabant and Guelders. This would seem to indicate that he must be
considered as one of the most prominent men of Europe at this time.</p>
<p>His attitude toward books is then all the more noteworthy. Many people
were surprised that a great statesman like Gladstone in the Nineteenth
Century, should have been interested in so many phases of thought and
of literature and should himself have been able to find the time to
contribute important works to English letters. Richard De Bury was at
least as important a man in his time as Gladstone in ours, and
occupied himself as much with books as the great English commoner.
This is what will be the greatest source of surprise to those who in
our time have been accustomed to think, that the great scholars deeply
interested in books who were yet men of practical worth in helping
their generation in its great problems, are limited to modern times
and are least of all likely to be found in the heart of the Middle
Ages. In spite of his occupations as a politician and a bookman,
Richard De Bury was noted for his faithfulness in the fulfilment of
his duties as a churchman and a bishop. It is worthy of note that many
of the important clergymen of England, who were to find the highest
church preferment afterwards, were among the members of his household
at various times and that the post of secretary to the bishop,
particularly, was filled at various times by some of the best scholars
of the period, men who were devoted friends to the bishop, who
dedicated their works to him and generally added to the reputation
that stamped him as the greatest scholar of England and one of the
leading lights of European culture of his time.</p>
<p>This is not so surprising when we realize that to be a member of
Richard's household was to have access to the best library in England,
and that many scholars were naturally ambitious to have such an
opportunity, and as the results showed many took advantage of it.
Among Richard of Durham's chaplains were Thomas Bradwardine who
afterwards became Archbishop of Canterbury, Richard Fitzraufe,
subsequently Archbishop of Armagh, Walter Seagrave, afterwards
Bishop of Chichester, and Richard Bentworth, who afterwards became
Bishop of London Among the distinguished scholars who occupied the
post were Robert Holcot, John Manduit, the astronomer of the
Fourteenth Century, Richard Kilmington, a distinguished English
theologian, and Walter Burley, a great commentator on Aristotle, who
dedicated to the bishop, who had provided him with so many
opportunities for study, his Commentaries upon the Politics and Ethics
of the ancient Greek philosopher.</p>
<p>That Richard's love for books and the time he had necessarily devoted
to politics did not dry up the fountains of charity in his heart, nor
cause him to neglect his important duties as the pastor of the people
and especially of the poor, we know very well from certain traditions
with regard to his charitable donations. According to a standing rule
in his household eight quarters of wheat were regularly every week
made into bread and given to the poor. In his alms giving Richard was
as careful and as discriminating as in his collection of books, and he
used a number of the regularly organized channels in his diocese to
make sure that his bounty should be really helpful and should not
encourage lack of thrift. This is a feature of charitable work that is
supposed to be modern, but the personal service of the charitably
inclined in the Thirteenth Century, far surpassed in securing this
even the elaborate organization of charity in modern times. Whenever
the bishop traveled generous alms were distributed to the poor people
along the way. Whenever he made the journey between Durham and New
Castle eight pounds sterling were set aside for this purpose; five
pounds for each journey between Durham and Stockton or Middleham, and
five marks between Durham and Auckland. Money had at that time at
least ten times the purchasing power which it has at present, so that
it will be easy to appreciate the good bishop's eminent liberality.</p>
<p>That Richard was justified in his admiration of the books of the time
we know from those that remain, for it must not be thought for a
moment that because the making of books was such a time-taking task in
the Thirteenth Century, they were not therefore made beautiful. On the
contrary, as we shall see shortly, no more beautiful books have
ever been made than at this time. This of itself would show how
precious in the eyes of the collectors of the time their books were,
since they wanted to have them so beautifully made and were satisfied
to pay the high prices that had to be demanded for such works of art.
Very few books of any size cost less than the equivalent of $100 in
our time and illuminated books cost much higher than this, yet seem
never to have been a drug on the market. Indeed, 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.</p>
<p>While illumination was not an invention of the Thirteenth Century, as
indeed were very few of the great art features of the century, during
this time book decoration was carried to great perfection and reached
that development which artists of the next century were to improve on
in certain extrinsic features, though the intrinsic qualities were to
remain those which had been determined as the essential
characteristics of this branch of art in the earlier time. The
Thirteenth Century, for instance, saw the introduction of the
miniature as a principal feature and also the drawing out of initials
in such a way as to make an illuminated border for the whole side of
the page. After the development thus given to the art in the
Thirteenth Century further evolution could only come in certain less
important details. In this the Thirteenth Century generations were
accomplishing what they had done in practically everything else that
they touched, laying foundations broad and deep and giving the
superstructure the commanding form which future generations were only
able to modify to slight degree and not always with absolute good
grace.</p>
<p>Humphreys in his magnificent volume on The Illuminated Books of the
Middle Ages, which according to its title contains an account of the
development and progress of the art of illumination as a distinct
branch of pictorial ornamentation from the Fourth to the Seventeenth
centuries, [Footnote 17] has some very striking words of praise for
Thirteenth Century illuminations and the artists who made them. He
says:</p>
<p class="footnote">
[Footnote 17: The Illuminated Books of the Middle Ages, by Henry
Noel Humphreys Longman. Green, Brown and Longmans, London, 1848.]</p>
<p class="cite">
"Different epochs of the art of illumination present widely
different and distinct styles; the most showy and the best known,
though the least pure and inventive in design, being that of the
middle and end of the Fifteenth Century; whilst the period perhaps
the least generally known, that of the Thirteenth Century, may be
considered as the most interesting and original, many of the best
works of that period displaying an astonishing variety and profusion
of invention. The manuscript, of which two pages form the opposite
plate, may be ranked among the most elaborate and profusely
ornamented of the fine books of that era; every page being
sufficient to make the fortune of the modern decorator by the quaint
and unexpected novelties of inventions which it displays at every
turn of its intricate design."</p>
<p>The illuminations of the century then are worthy of the time and also
typical of the general work of the century. It is known by experts for
its originality and for the wealth of invention displayed in the
designs. Men did not fear that they might exhaust their inventive
faculty, nor display their originality sparingly, in order that they
might have enough to complete other work. As the workmen of the
Cathedrals, the artist illuminators devoted their very best efforts to
each piece of work that came to their hands, and the results are
masterpieces of art in this as in every other department of the
period. The details are beautifully wrought, showing the power of the
artist to accomplish such a work and yet his designs are never
overloaded, at least in the best examples of the century, with details
of ornamentation that obscure and minimize the effect of the original
design. This fault was to be the error of his most sophisticated
successors two centuries later.</p>
<p>Nor must it be thought the high opinion of the century is derived from
the fact that only a very few examples of its illumination and
bookmaking are now extant, and that these being the chosen specimens
give the illumination of the century a higher place than it might
otherwise have. Many examples have been preserved and some of
them are the most beautiful books that were made. Paris was
particularly the home of this form of art in the Thirteenth Century,
and indeed the school established there influenced all the modes of
illumination everywhere, so much so that Dante speaks of the art with
the epithet "Parisian," as if it were exclusively done there. The
incentive to the development of this form of art came from St. Louis
who, as we have said, was very much interested in books. His taste as
exhibited in La Sainte Chapelle was such as to demand artistic
excellence of high grade in this department of art, which has many
more relations with the architecture of the period, and especially
with the stained glass, than might possibly be thought at the present
time, for most of the decoration of books partook of the character of
the architectural types of the moment.</p>
<p>Among the most precious treasures from the century are three books
which belonged to St. Louis himself. One of these is the Hours or
Office Book; a second, is his Psalter, which contains some extremely
beautiful initials; a third, which is in the Library of the Arsenal at
Paris, is sometimes known as the Prayer Book of St. Louis himself,
though a better name for it would be the Prayer Book of Queen Blanche,
for it was made at Louis' orders for his mother, the famous Blanche of
Castile, and is a worthy testimonial of the affectionate relations
which existed between mother and son.</p>
<p>Outside of Paris there are preserved many books of great value that
come from this century. One of them, a Bestiarum or Book of Beasts, is
in the Ashmoleam Museum at Oxford. This is said to be a very beautiful
example of the illumination of the Thirteenth Century, but it is even
more interesting because it shows the efforts of the artists of the
time to copy nature in the pictures of animals as they are presented.
There is said to be an acuity of observation and a vigor of
representation displayed in the book which is highly complimentary to
the powers of the Thirteenth Century artists.</p>
<p>Even these brief notes of the books and libraries of the Thirteenth
Century, will serve to make clear how enthusiastic was the interest of
the generations of this time in beautiful books and in collections of
them that were meant for show as well as for practical
usefulness. There is perhaps nothing more amusing in the attitude of
modern generations with regard to the Middle Ages, than the assumption
that all the methods of education and of the distribution of knowledge
worth while talking about, are the inventions of comparatively modern
times. The fact that libraries were also a creation of that time and
that most of the regulations which are supposed to be the first fruit
of quite recent science in the circulation of books had been adopted
by these earlier generations, is commonly ignored utterly, though it
is a precious bit of knowledge that cannot help but increase our
sympathy with those bookmen of the olden times, who thought so much of
their books, yet wished to share the privilege of their use with all
those who would employ them properly, and who, in their great
practical way succeeded in working out the scheme by which many people
could have the opportunity of consulting the treasures they thought so
much of, without risk of their loss or destruction, even though use
might bring some deterioration of their value.</p>
<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i165.jpg" border=1><br/>
DECORATION (XIII. CENT. PSALTER MSS.)</p>
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