plain of those that devote themselves entirely to secular and pagan science, discard divinity, and prefer the fables of antiquity to sacred history. The French chronicler, Radulphus Glaber, tells, under the year 1000 ("Historiarum," lib. ii., cap. 12), of a certain Vilgardus at Ravenna, who had devoted himself entirely to the study of grammar, "as, indeed, it was always customary among the Italians to neglect the other arts, and cultivate only that one": demons had then appeared to him one night in the shapes of Virgil, Horace, and Juvenal, thanked him for devoting such loving care to their works, and for spreading their fame, and promised him that he would share in the latter. This had made him proud, so that he had taught many doctrines against Christianity, and had maintained that absolute credence must be given to the words of the poets. Finally, he had been condemned by the Bishop Peter as a heretic. "Then," closes the chronicler, "others appeared in Italy who shared in this fearful error, and likewise met their death by fire or sword." From this it appears that some were already filled with a passionate idolatry for antiquity, which was persecuted by the Church as dangerous. But the best testimony to the continuance of these studies in Italy is supplied by two literary productions, a poem and a history, which are entirely imbued with their spirit. The Panegyric on the Emperor Berengar by a poet who remains anonymous, but was undoubtedly a Lombard, and who describes himself in the prologue as being but one of many who then devoted themselves to the art of poetry, was written during the lifetime of its hero, that is, between the years 914 and 924. In hexameters that are not unskilful and mostly correct, though the style is frequently laboured and obscure, the author celebrates the emperor as a hero of antiquity; he quotes Homer and Virgil, everywhere imitates the classical epics in invocations, similes, descriptions and speeches, and even inserts into his poem verses and longer passages, which are literally borrowed from Virgil, Statius, and Juvenal. We also find here already that ostentatious show of Greek words so frequent among the Latin poets of the Middle Ages; the whole poem bears a Greek superscription.' An equally 1 E. Dümmler, “Gesta Berengarii Imperatoris." Halle, 1871. surprising knowledge of the classical authors is displayed by the somewhat later historian Liutprand (d. in 972 as Bishop of Cremona), who described the storms and crimes of those wild times with the sharp eye of a man of the world, and with a keen sense of actuality. In his principal work, which narrates the events from 888 till 950, he now and again, and sometimes at the most unsuitable passages, changes over from prose to verse in various metres, following in this the example of Boethius's "Consolatio." He, too, likes to quote pieces of the old poets, mingled with sayings from the Bible, knows classical history and mythology, gives things their classical names (always, for example, calling the Saracens of Africa Poni), everywhere parades his knowledge of Greek, which he had acquired at Constantinople on the occasion of his frequent embassies, and likewise gives his book a Greek title, "Antapodosis" ("Repayment"), as his history was to be a judgment of his enemies, Berengar of Ivrea and his wife Willa.1 While the panegyric on Berengar and the writings of Liutprand represent the efforts of the schools, we have a remarkable remnant of the popular poetry of this period in the rough poem which relates and laments the capture of the Emperor Lewis II. by Adalgisus, the ruler of Benevento (871). The verse is the trochaic catalectic tetrameter of the Roman soldier-songs, but treated almost throughout as a rythmical (accentuated) verse, and even as such not regularly: Audite omnes fines terræ errore (1. horrore?) cum tristitia, Ludhuicum comprenderunt sancto, pio, augusto, 2 In the endings of the words, in the use of the cases without flexional distinctions, in the employment of the pronouns 1 Migne, "Patrologia," Ser. Lat., t. 136. The Sapphic Carmen on the Bishop Adalhard of Verona (cf. Dümmler, 1. c., p. 134 ff.) shows how skilfully writers could still handle the classical metres. 2 Du Méril," Poésies populaires antérieures au XIIe siècle," Paris, 1843, p. 264 ff. It is a carmen alphabeticum, that is to say, each section of three verses begins with a letter according to the order of the alphabet. This proves that the poem has come down incomplete, and that the last two verses, which begin with a J, are out of their place, and should come at the close of the emperor's speech. 2 and numerals as articles and the like, the language is already Italian in many respects, though Italian used but cautiously as yet. At any rate it is clear that Latin, though no longer the speech of everyday life, was still understood without difficulty by the people in this deteriorated and vulgarised form. Still, it is doubtful whether we are therefore justified in assuming the existence in these early times of a rich literature of Latin popular poetry now lost, as some literary historians have done. The other poem which is generally quoted as a relic of this literature, the Summons to the defenders of Modena to maintain vigilance when the town was besieged by the Hungarians (924)1 has already a very different character, and testifies to no slight culture on the part of the author, in thought and form. In other writings people have thought they recognised the traces of old epic songs. In the first half of the eleventh century, a monk of Novalese, at the foot of Mont Cenis, wrote in barbarous Latin the history of the monastery, and introduced into his childishly simple account all kinds of legendary traits. Here we find the history of Walter of Aquitaine, which is for the greater part borrowed from the Latin poem written in Germany, but contains additions concerning the later years of the hero, his entry into the monastery of Novalese, where he fills the humble office of gardener, the re-awakening of his old love of war, when the monastery is pillaged by the soldiers of King Desiderius, and the terrible injuries he inflicts on his enemies with a stirrup and the bone of a calf, for want of other arms. We are told of Charles the Great and the end of the Lombard rule, of Charles's victory over the robber Eberardus, of the Lombard minstrel who, dancing and singing before the King of the Franks, offers to point out to him the safe approach into the country, of the treachery and death of the daughter of Desiderius, of the gigantic Algisus (Adelchi), who on horseback lays low his enemies with an iron club, the rings on whose arms touch Charles's shoulders, and who, at table, crushes the bones and swallows the marrow like a lion. These tales of the monk are without doubt based on living tradition and testify to the existence of popular legends in Northern Italy; 1 Du Méril, "Poésies populaires antérieures au XIIe siècle," p. 268 ff. 2 "Chronicon Novaliciense, Monumenta Germaniæ," Script. vii. 73. but whether these were ever clothed in poetic form, and, so, in what language, we do not know. With the eleventh century begins a revolution in the intellectual life of Italy. The political relations enter again into a more settled state. It is true that the union of the nation is not effected, but in its stead the power of the com munes develops together with the fertilising action of liberty, and with the want of a more able administration of the state a want that rouses the intellectual faculties of the citizens. The conflict for great interests, the struggle be tween Emperor and Pope, violently moves men's minds, and calls for intellectual weapons. The conquest of Sicily by the Normans, the sea-fights of the Pisans and Genoese, and the expeditions to the East bring Christendom into closer contact with the Mussulmans and make them acquainted with their civilisation. Through the efforts of Otto the Great Italy was again united under one sceptre, but without enjoying political independence; the imperial crown and the kingdom of Italy belonged to Germany, and Italy, which was nominally the ruling country, was in reality a subject province. This continued to be the lasting contradiction between the old idea of the Roman Empire and the actual state of affairs. The young Emperor Otto III. wished to put an end to this. Filled with the notions of classical literature into which he had been initiated by his master Gerbert, and at the same time burning with religious ardour, he determined to make the Roman Empire really what its name implied, and to take up his residence in Rome; but he soon died, and none of his successors was inclined to take up again his fantastic plan. In the meantime the distant empire was not able to check for any length of time the aspirations of the nobles. The Emperor was perhaps respected when close at hand; but as soon as he returned to Germany, the princes, bishops and towns pursued their own interests. In opposition to Henry II., a native King, Hardouin of Ivrea, was set up. Finally, all the elements hostile to the Empire became centred in the Pope. In Rome the old causes of discontent went on with few interruptions—the power over the Papal See exercised by the Counts of Tusculum, the descendants of the family of Alberic, the immorality of the Popes and the deposition of and opposition to several that had been elected. At last Henry III. dealt firmly with this net-work of impure passions, set up four German Popes one after another, freed the Papal See from party influences, and reserved for the Emperor the right of taking part in the elections of the Popes and of confirming them. It was, however, just by these means that the foundations of the momentous struggle between the spiritual and secular powers were laid. With the recovery of her dignity, the Church gained more and more authority, and began to strive for complete independence, and then for the rule of the world. This movement was led by Hildebrand, as counsellor of Leo IX. (from 1059) and of his successors, and was continued by him as Pope Gregory VII. (1073-1085). The bonds which linked the clergy to the world and made them serve its interests, were loosened by the prohibition of simony, of the marriage of priests and of lay investitures, and by conferring on the cardinals alone the right of choosing the Pope, without any interference on the part of Emperor or people. By thus freeing and secluding herself, the Church raised herself above all worldly power, which could not be anything without her consecration, and could lawfully exist only through her instrumentality. Innovations of such harshness, an undertaking of such gigantic boldness, at first met with the most violent opposition even in Italy itself; and yet the ideal of Gregory and his successors was deeply rooted in the thoughts and feelings of the Italian people. Through it the Papacy inherited the Roman idea of a world monarchy which men's minds could not get rid of; first this monarchy appeared to be renewed in the shape of the Empire, and now the Papacy and Empire fought for its possession the fiercest battle of the Middle Ages. However, the Pope's was a spiritual power. He would not suffer the growth of a powerful foreign rule in Italy, but at the same time he himself could not become the sovereign of the country, nor could he do anything beyond keeping up the incessant factions and struggles. In his most immediate neighbourhood his authority was least respected: at Rome he was not able to combat the intrigues of the nobles and the rebellions of the people. The mighty Gregory himself, whose word shook |