the story of mankind-第35节

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process　（almost　invariably）　is　as　follows：　Some　rich　man

wants　to　do　something　for　the　community　in　which　he　lives　or

a　particular　religious　sect　wants　to　build　a　school　to　keep　its

faithful　children　under　decent　supervision；　or　a　state　needs　doc…

tors　and　lawyers　and　teachers。　The　university　begins　as　a

large　sum　of　money　which　is　deposited　in　a　bank。　This　money

is　then　used　to　construct　buildings　and　laboratories　and　dormitories。

Finally　professional　teachers　are　hired；　entrance　examinations

are　held　and　the　university　is　on　the　way。



But　in　the　Middle　Ages　things　were　done　differently。　A　wise　man

said　to　himself；　‘‘I　have　discovered　a　great　truth。　I　must　impart　my

knowledge　to　others。''　And　he　began　to　preach　his　wisdom

wherever　and　whenever　he　could　get　a　few　people　to　listen　to　him；

like　a　modern　soap…box　orator。　If　he　was　an　interesting　speaker；　the

crowd　came　and　stayed。　If　he　was　dull；　they　shrugged　their　shoulders

and　continued　their　way。



By　and　by　certain　young　men　began　to　come　regularly　to　hear

the　words　of　wisdom　of　this　great　teacher。　They　brought　copybooks

with　them　and　a　little　bottle　of　ink　and　a　goose　quill　and

wrote　down　what　seemed　to　be　important。　One　day　it　rained。

The　teacher　and　his　pupils　retired　to　an　empty　basement　or

the　room　of　the　‘‘Professor。''　The　learned　man　sat　in　his　chair

and　the　boys　sat　on　the　floor。　That　was　the　beginning　of　the

University；　the　‘‘universitas；''　a　corporation　of　professors　and

students　during　the　Middle　Ages；　when　the　‘‘teacher''　counted

for　everything　and　the　building　in　which　he　taught　counted　for

very　little。



As　an　example；　let　me　tell　you　of　something　that　happened

in　the　ninth　century。　In　the　town　of　Salerno　near　Naples　there

were　a　number　of　excellent　physicians。　They　attracted　people

desirous　of　learning　the　medical　profession　and　for　almost　a

thousand　years　（until　1817）　there　was　a　university　of　Salerno

which　taught　the　wisdom　of　Hippocrates；　the　great　Greek　doctor

who　had　practiced　his　art　in　ancient　Hellas　in　the　fifth

century　before　the　birth　of　Christ。



Then　there　was　Abelard；　the　young　priest　from　Brittany；

who　early　in　the　twelfth　century　began　to　lecture　on　theology

and　logic　in　Paris。　Thousands　of　eager　young　men　flocked

to　the　French　city　to　hear　him。　Other　priests　who　disagreed

with　him　stepped　forward　to　explain　their　point　of　view。　Paris

was　soon　filled　with　a　clamouring　multitude　of　Englishmen　and

Germans　and　Italians　and　students　from　Sweden　and　Hungary

and　around　the　old　cathedral　which　stood　on　a　little　island　in

the　Seine　there　grew　the　famous　University　of　Paris。

In　Bologna　in　Italy；　a　monk　by　the　name　of　Gratian　had

compiled　a　text…book　for　those　whose　business　it　was　to　know

the　laws　of　the　church。　Young　priests　and　many　laymen　then

came　from　all　over　Europe　to　hear　Gratian　explain　his　ideas。

To　protect　themselves　against　the　landlords　and　the　innkeepers

and　the　boarding…house　ladies　of　the　city；　they　formed　a　corporation

（or　University）　and　behold　the　beginning　of　the　university

of　Bologna。



Next　there　was　a　quarrel　in　the　University　of　Paris。　We　do

not　know　what　caused　it；　but　a　number　of　disgruntled　teachers

together　with　their　pupils　crossed　the　channel　and　found　a

hospitable　home　in　n　little　village　on　the　Thames　called　Oxford；

and　in　this　way　the　famous　University　of　Oxford　came　into

being。　In　the　same　way；　in　the　year　1222；　there　had　been　a　split

in　the　University　of　Bologna。　The　discontented　teachers　（again

followed　by　their　pupils）　had　moved　to　Padua　and　their　proud　city

thenceforward　boasted　of　a　university　of　its　own。　And　so　it　went

from　Valladolid　in　Spain　to　Cracow　in　distant　Poland　and　from

Poitiers　in　France　to　Rostock　in　Germany。



It　is　quite　true　that　much　of　the　teaching　done　by　these

early　professors　would　sound　absurd　to　our　ears；　trained　to

listen　to　logarithms　and　geometrical　theorems。　The　point

however；　which　I　want　to　make　is　thisthe　Middle　Ages　and

especially　the　thirteenth　century　were　not　a　time　when　the

world　stood　entirely　still。　Among　the　younger　generation；

there　was　life；　there　was　enthusiasm；　and　there　was　a　restless

if　somewhat　bashful　asking　of　questions。　And　out　of　this

turmoil　grew　the　Renaissance。



But　just　before　the　curtain　went　down　upon　the　last　scene

of　the　Mediaeval　world；　a　solitary　figure　crossed　the　stage；　of

whom　you　ought　to　know　more　than　his　mere　name。　This

man　was　called　Dante。　He　was　the　son　of　a　Florentine　lawyer

who　belonged　to　the　Alighieri　family　and　he　saw　the　light　of

day　in　the　year　1265。　He　grew　up　in　the　city　of　his　ancestors

while　Giotto　was　painting　his　stories　of　the　life　of　St。　Francis

of　Assisi　upon　the　walls　of　the　Church　of　the　Holy　Cross；　but

often　when　he　went　to　school；　his　frightened　eyes　would　see　the

puddles　of　blood　which　told　of　the　terrible　and　endless　warfare

that　raged　forever　between　the　Guelphs　and　the　Ghibellines；

the　followers　of　the　Pope　and　the　adherents　of　the　Emperors。



When　he　grew　up；　he　became　a　Guelph；　because　his　father

had　been　one　before　him；　just　as　an　American　boy　might　become

a　Democrat　or　a　Republican；　simply　because　his　father

had　happened　to　be　a　Democrat　or　a　Republican。　But　after　a

few　years；　Dante　saw　that　Italy；　unless　united　under　a　single

head；　threatened　to　perish　as　a　victim　of　the　disordered　jealousies

of　a　thousand　little　cities。　Then　he　became　a　Ghilbeiline。



He　looked　for　help　beyond　the　Alps。　He　hoped　that　a

mighty　emperor　might　come　and　re…establish　unity　and　order。

Alas！　he　hoped　in　vain。　The　Ghibellines　were　driven　out　of

Florence　in　the　year　1802。　From　that　time　on　until　the　day

of　his　death　amidst　the　dreary　ruins　of　Ravenna；　in　the　year

1321；　Dante　was　a　homeless　wanderer；　eating　the　bread　of

charity　at　the　table　of　rich　patrons　whose　names　would　have

sunk　into　the　deepest　pit　of　oblivion　but　for　this　single　fact；

that　they　had　been　kind　to　a　poet　in　his　misery。　During　the

many　years　of　exile；　Dante　felt　compelled　to　justify　himself

and　his　actions　when　he　had　been　a　political　leader　in　his

home…town；　and　when　he　had　spent　his　days　walking　along

the　banks　of　the　Arno　that　he　might　catch　a　glimpse　of　the

lovely　Beatrice　Portinari；　who　died　the　wife　of　another　man；　a

dozen　years　before　the　Ghibelline　disaster。



He　had　failed　in　the　ambitions　of　his　career。　He　had

faithfully　served　the　town　of　is　birth　and　before　a　corrupt

court　he　had　been　accused　of　stealing　the　public　funds　and

had　been　condemned　to　be　burned　alive　should　he　venture

back　within　the　realm　of　the　city　of　Florence。　To　clear

himself　before　his　own　conscience　and　before　his　contemporaries；

Dante　then　created　an　Imaginary　World　and　with　great

detail　he　described　the　circumstances　which　had　led　to

his　defeat　and　depicted　the　hopeless　condition　of　greed　and　lust

and　hatred　which　had　turned　his　fair　and　beloved　Italy　into　a

battlefield　for　the　pitiless　mercenaries　of　wicked　and　selfish

tyrants。



He　tells　us　how　on　the　Thursday　before　Easter　of　the　year

1300　he　had　lost　his　way　in　a　dense　forest　and　how　he　found

his　path　barred　by　a　leopard　and　a　lion　and　a　wolf。　He　gave

himself　up　for　lost　when　a　white　figure　appeared　amidst　the

trees。　It　was　Virgil；　the　Roman　poet　and　philosopher；　sent

upon　his　errand　of　mercy　by　the　Blessed　Virgin　and　by　Beatrice；

who　from　high　Heaven　watched　over　the　fate　of　her

true　lover。　Virgil　then　takes　Dante　through　Purgatory　and

through　Hell。　Deeper　and　deeper　the　path　leads　them　until

they　reach　the　lowest　pit　where　Lucifer　himself　stands　frozen

into　the　eternal　ice　surrounded　by　the　most　terrible　of　sinners；

traitors　and　liars　and　those　who　have　achieved　fame　and

success　by　lies　and　by　deceit。　But　before　the　two　wanderers

have　reached　this　terrible　spot；　Dante　has　met　all　those　who

in　some　way　or　other　have　played　a　role　in　the　history　of　his

beloved　city。　Emperors　and　Popes；　dashing　knights　and

whining　usurers；　they　are　all　there；　doomed　to　eternal　punishment

or　awaiting　the　day　of　deliverance；　when　they　shall

leave　Purgatory　for　Heaven。



It　is　a　curious　story。　It　is　a　handbook　of　everything　the

people　of　the　thirteenth　century　did　and　felt　and　feared　and

prayed　for。　Through　it　all　moves　the　figure　of　the　lonely

Florentine　exile；　forever　followed　by　the　shadow　of　his　own

despair。



And　behold！　when　the　gates　of　death　were　closing　upon

the　sad　poet　of　the　Middle　Ages；　the　portals　of　life　swung

open　to　the　child　who　was　to　be　the　first　of　the　men　of　the

Renaissance。　That　was　Francesco　Petrarca；　the　son　of　the

notary　public　of　the　little　town　of　Arezzo。



Francesco's　father　had　belonged　to　the　same　political　party

as　Dante。　He　too　had　been　exiled　and　thus　it　happened　that

Petrarca　（or　Petrarch；　as　we　call　him）　was　born　away　from

Florence。　At　the　age　of　fifteen　he　was　sent　to　Montpellier

in　France　that　he　might　become　a　lawyer　like　his　father。　But

the　boy　did　not　wa