times were waxing late, and into men’s minds
entered as never before a conviction of the importance
of the four last things—death, judgment,
heaven and hell. One obstacle alone stood between
man and his redemption, the vile body, “this
muddy vesture of decay,” that so grossly wrapped
his soul. To find methods of bringing it into
subjection was the task of the Christian Church for
centuries. In the Vatican Gallery of Inscriptions
is a stone slab with the single word “Stercoriae,”
and below, the Christian symbol. It might serve
as a motto for the Middle Ages, during which, to quote
St. Paul, all things were “counted dung but
to win Christ.” In this attitude of mind
the wisdom of the Greeks was not simply foolishness,
but a stumbling-block in the path. Knowledge
other than that which made a man “wise unto salvation”
was useless. All that was necessary was contained
in the Bible or taught by the Church. This simple
creed brought consolation to thousands and illumined
the lives of some of the noblest of men. But,
“in seeking a heavenly home man lost his bearings
upon earth.” Let me commend for your reading
Taylor’s “Mediaeval Mind."(1) I cannot
judge of its scholarship, which I am told by scholars
is ripe and good, but I can judge of its usefulness
for anyone who wishes to know the story of the mind
of man in Europe at this period. Into the content
of mediaeval thought only a mystic can enter with
full sympathy. It was a needful change in the
evolution of the race. Christianity brought new
ideals and new motives into the lives of men.
The world’s desire was changed, a desire for
the Kingdom of Heaven, in the search for which the
lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye and the pride
of life were as dross. A master-motive swayed
the minds of sinful men and a zeal to save other souls
occupied the moments not devoted to the perfection
of their own. The new dispensation made any other
superfluous. As Tertullian said: Investigation
since the Gospel is no longer necessary. (Dannemann,
Die Naturw., I, p. 214.) The attitude of the early
Fathers toward the body is well expressed by Jerome.
“Does your skin roughen without baths? Who
is once washed in the blood of Christ needs not wash
again.” In this unfavorable medium for
its growth, science was simply disregarded, not in
any hostile spirit, but as unnecessary.(2) And a third
contributing factor was the plague of the sixth century,
which desolated the whole Roman world. On the
top of the grand mausoleum of Hadrian, visitors at
Rome see the figure of a gilded angel with a drawn
sword, from which the present name of the Castle of
St. Angelo takes its origin. On the twenty-fifth
of April, 590, there set out from the Church of SS.
Cosmas and Damian, already the Roman patron saints
of medicine, a vast procession, led by St. Gregory
the Great, chanting a seven-fold litany of intercession
against the plague. The legend relates that Gregory
saw on the top of Hadrian’s tomb an angel with
a drawn sword, which he sheathed as the plague abated.