authors of antiquity were lost, at this time, through
the sloth and negligence of the Greeks” (p.
219). “Nor did the cause of philosophy
fare better than that of literature. Philosophers,
indeed, there were; and, among them, some that were
not destitute of genius and abilities; but none who
rendered their names immortal by productions that
were worthy of being transmitted to posterity”
(p. 219). So low, under the influence of Christianity,
had sunk the literature of Greece—Greece
Pagan, which once brought forth Pythagoras, Socrates,
Plato, Euclid, Zenophon, and many another mighty one,
whose fame rolls down the ages—that Greece
had become Greece Christian, and the vitality of her
motherhood had been drained from her, and left her
without strength to conceive men. In the West
things were yet worse—instead of Rome Pagan,
that had spread light and civilization—the
Rome of Cicero, of Virgil, of Lucretius—we
have Rome Christian, spreader of darkness and of degradation,
the Rome of the Popes and the monks. The Latins
“were, almost without exception, sunk in the
most brutish and barbarous ignorance, so that, according
to the unanimous accounts of the most credible writers,
nothing could be more melancholy and deplorable than
the darkness that reigned in the western world during
this century.... In the seminaries of learning,
such as they were, the seven liberal sciences were
taught in the most unskilful and miserable manner,
and that by the monks, who esteemed the arts and sciences
no further than as they were subservient to the interests
of religion, or, to speak more properly, to the views
of superstition” (p. 219). But the light
from Arabia was struggling to penetrate Christendom.
Gerbert, a native of France, travelled into Spain,
and studied in the Arabian schools of Cordova and
Seville, under Arabian doctors; he developed mathematical
ability, and returned into Christendom with some amount
of learning: raised to the papal throne, under
the name of Sylvester II., he tried to restore the
study of science and philosophy, and found that his
geometrical figures “were regarded by the monks
as magical operations,” and he himself “as
a magician and a disciple of Satan” (p. 220).
The vice of the clergy was something terrible.
“These corruptions were mounted to the most
enormous height in that dismal period of the Church
which we have now before us. Both in the eastern
and western provinces, the clergy were, for the most
part, composed of a most worthless set of men, shamefully
illiterate and stupid, ignorant, more especially in
religious matters, equally enslaved to sensuality and
superstition, and capable of the most abominable and
flagitious deeds. This dismal degeneracy of the
sacred order was, according to the most credible accounts,
principally owing to the pretended chiefs and rulers
of the universal Church, who indulged themselves in
the commission of the most odious crimes, and abandoned
themselves to the lawless impulse of the most licentious