De Studiis et Litteris
Leonardo Bruni d'Arezzo (1370-1444)
THIS short
Treatise, cast as usual in the form of a Letter, is probably the earliest
humanist tract upon Education expressly dedicated to a Lady; just as Baptista di Montefeltro, to whom
it is addressed, may stand as the first of the succession of studious women who
were a characteristic product of the Renaissance.
Baptista
was the younger daughter of Antonio, Count of Urbino,
who died in 1404. She was then twenty-one years of age, and was married, on
June 14, 1405, to Galeazzo Malatesta,
the heir to the lordship of Pesaro. The marriage was a most unhappy one. The
worthless husband was so hated as a ruler that, after
two years of power (1429-1431), he was driven from his city. His wife thereupon
found a welcome refuge in her old home at Urbino. She
lived for some twenty years a widowed and secluded life; she died, as a Sister
of the Franciscan Order of Santa Chiara, in 1450.
Even before
her marriage she had cultivated a taste for poetry and was powerfully attracted
by the passion for the ancient literature which marked the close of the 14th
century. Her husband’s father, the reigning lord of Pesaro, is known to us as
"Il Malatesta
degli Sonetti,"
and he aided and shared the literary tastes of his young daughter-in-law. They
interchanged canzoni and Latin epistles, many of which are preserved in MS. collections. The Emperor Sigismund passing through Urbino in 1433 was greeted by her in a Latin oration, which
half a century later was still thought worthy of print. To her Lionardo Bruni, at the time
probably Apostolic Secretary, addressed the Letter
which is here given in English form. The date of its composition cannot now be
determined. But we may fairly assume from the tenor of the opening words that
it was written not much later than the year of her marriage (1405).
The interest
of the tractate lies chiefly in the fact that it reveals, at an early stage in
the history of Humanism, a concern for classical study on the part of the more
thoughtful and earnest of the great ladies of Italy. Baptista
is the forerunner of the Nogarola of Verona, of
Cecilia Gonzaga, of Ippolita Sforza, and of her own
more fortunate and distinguished descendants, Costanza
and her daughter, another Baptista (1447-1472), the
wife of the great Duke Federigo of Urbino.
There is
evidence also, I think, of the bitterness with which the New Learning was
regarded in Florence by the Dominicans of Santa Maria Novella, which had lately
found expression in the work of Giovanni Dominici,
who denounced the growing absorption of the intelligence of his day in pagan
thought and letters. Bruni, however, as became his
position, and in accord moreover, with all that we read of the ideals of the
highest training of women during this century, in mapping out a course of
reading for his correspondent holds fast by the supreme worth of morals and
religion. He is anxious to shew the connection between the ancient world and
the Christian standards of life. Hence the paragraph upon the relation of
profane learning to the art of noble living is very significant. It expresses
with precision what we feel to have been the aim of Vittorino
da Feltre in his education of Cecilia and Barbara,
and it coincides in principle with the judgments on the education of girls laid
down in the treatise of Maffeo Vegio.
The main features of this course of study best adapted to a woman seem to be
these. Religion, as a subject of study not less than as a personal quality,
demands the first place: morals, as recognized by the best intelligence of the
ancient world, as well as by the Church, stand in close relation to Faith.
Philosophy, disputation, the art of clever conversation and discussion,
history, as a body of illustration of moral precepts, all these follow closely.
Literature, in a broad sense covering the range of Latin antiquity and the
greater Fathers, must be studied both for its matter and its form. The importance
of this last is hardly to be exaggerated. For taste and fluency of expression
are among the finer marks of distinction accepted by educated opinion.
It cannot be
said that the study of Letters by women, in spite of some pedantry and
occasional display, was, judging from the more prominent instances of which we
have intimate knowledge, unfavourably regarded by
social opinion, or that it established a new standard of womanly activity.
Women, indeed, at this epoch seem to have preserved their moral and
intellectual balance under the stress of the new enthusiasm better than men.
The learned ladies were, in actual life, good wives and mothers, domestic and
virtuous, women of strong judgment, and not seldom of
marked capacity in affairs. The duchess Baptista,
great in scholarship, was even more distinguished for her needlework. At the
same time, before the century was out, Chairs at the Universities, both in
Italy and in Spain, were occasionally occupied by women.
[Hain, 1571, gives the Cologne edition as the earliest, but
no date is suggested (? 1472). A Florentine edition appeared in April 1477,
which from its Prefatory Letter would seem to be the first current in that
city. This was followed by a Roman issue. Two others, Padua, 1483, and Munich,
1496, were printed during the century. Very few editions are noted of later
date.]
A
LETTER ADDRESSED TO THE ILLUSTRlOUS LADY, BAPTISTA
MALATESTA.
I
AM led to address this Tractate to you, Illustrious Lady, by the high repute
which attaches to your name in the field of learning; and I offer it, partly as
an expression of my homage to distinction already attained, partly as an
encouragement to further effort. Were it necessary I might urge you by
brilliant instances from antiquity: Cornelia, the daughter of Scipio, whose
Epistles survived for centuries as models of style; Sappho, the poetess, held
in so great honour for the exuberance of her poetic
art; Aspasia, whose learning and eloquence made her not unworthy of the
intimacy of Socrates. Upon these, the most distinguished of a long range of
great names, I would have you fix your mind; for an
intelligence such as your own can be satisfied with nothing less than the best.
You yourself, indeed, may hope to win a fame higher
even than theirs. For they lived in days when learning was no
rare attainment, and therefore they enjoyed no unique renown. Whilst,
alas, upon such times are we fallen that a learned man seems well-nigh a portent, and erudition in a woman is a thing utterly
unknown. For true learning has almost died away amongst us. True learning, I
say: not a mere acquaintance with that vulgar, threadbare jargon which
satisfies those who devote themselves to Theology; but sound learning in its
proper and legitimate sense, viz., the knowledge of realities—Facts and
Principles—united to a perfect familiarity with Letters and the art of
expression. Now this combination we find in Lactantius,
in Augustine, or in Jerome; each of them at once a great theologian and
profoundly versed in literature. But turn from them to their successors of
today: how must we blush for their ignorance of the whole field of Letters!
This
leads me to press home this truth—though in your case it is unnecessary—that
the foundations of all true learning must be laid in the sound and thorough
knowledge of Latin: which implies study marked by a broad spirit, accurate
scholarship, and careful attention to details. Unless this solid basis be
secured it is useless to attempt to rear an enduring edifice. Without it the great
monuments of literature are unintelligible, and the art of composition
impossible. To attain this essential knowledge we must never relax our careful
attention to the grammar of the language, but perpetually confirm and extend
our acquaintance with it until it is thoroughly our own. We may gain much from Servius, Donatus and Priscian,
but more by careful observation in our own reading, in which we must note
attentively vocabulary and inflexions, figures of speech and metaphors, and all
the devices of style, such as rhythm, or antithesis, by which fine taste is
exhibited. To this end we must be supremely careful in our choice of authors,
lest an inartistic and debased style infect our own writing and degrade our
taste; which danger is best avoided by bringing a keen, critical sense to bear
upon select works, observing the sense of each passage, the structure of the
sentence, the force of every word down to the least important particle. In this
way our reading reacts directly upon our style.
You
may naturally turn first to Christian writers, foremost amongst whom, with marked distinction, stands Lactantius,
by common consent the finest stylist of the post-classical period. Especially
do I commend to your study his works, Adversus falsam Religionem, De via Dei, and De opificio hominis. After Lactantius your choice may lie
between Augustine, Jerome, Ambrose, and Cyprian; should you desire to read
Gregory of Nazianzen, Chrysostom, and Basil, be
careful as to the accuracy of the translations you adopt. Of the classical
authors Cicero will be your constant pleasure: how unapproachable in wealth of
ideas and of language, in force of style, indeed, in all that can attract in a
writer! Next to him ranks Vergil, the glory and the delight of our national
literature. Livy and Sallust, and then the chief poets, follow in order. The
usage of these authors will serve you as your test of correctness in choice of
vocabulary and of constructions.
Now
we notice in all good prose—though it is not of course obtrusive--a certain
element of rhythm, which coincides with and expresses the general structure of
the passage, and consequently gives a clue to its sense. I commend, therefore,
to you as an aid to understanding an author the practice of reading aloud with
clear and exact intonation. By this device you will seize more quickly the
drift of the passage, by realizing the main lines on which it is constructed.
And the music of the prose thus interpreted by the voice will react with
advantage upon your own composition, and at the same time will improve your own
Reading by compelling deliberate and intelligent expression.
The
art of Writing is not limited to the mere formation of letters, but it concerns
also the subject of the diphthongs, and of the syllabic divisions of words; the
accepted usages in the writings of each letter, singly and in cursive script,
and the whole field of abbreviations. This may seem a trivial matter, but a knowledge of educated practice on these points may fairly
be expected from us. The laws of quantity are more important, since in poetry
scansion is frequently our only certain clue to construction. One might ask,
further, what capacity in poetic composition or what critical ability or taste
in poetical literature is possible to a man who is not first of all secure on
points of quantity and metre? Nor is prose, as I have
already hinted, without its metrical element; upon which indeed Aristotle and
Cicero dwelt with some minuteness. A skillful orator or historian will be
careful of the effect to be gained by spondaic, iambic, dactylic or other
rhythm in arousing differing emotions congruous to his matter in hand. To
ignore this is to neglect one of the most delicate points of style. You will
notice that such refinements will apply only to one who aspires to proficiency
in the finer shades of criticism and expression, but such a one must certainly
by observation and practice become familiar with every device which lends
distinction and adornment to the literary art.
But
the wider question now confronts us, that of the subject matter of our studies,
that which I have already called the realities of fact and principle, as
distinct from literary form. Here, as before, I am contemplating a student of
keen and lofty aspiration to whom nothing that is worthy in any learned
discipline is without its interest. But it is necessary to exercise
discrimination. In some branches of knowledge I would rather restrain the ardour of the learner, in others, again, encourage it to
the uttermost. Thus there are certain subjects in which, whilst a modest
proficiency is on all accounts to be desired, a minute knowledge and excessive
devotion seem to be a vain display. For instance, subtleties of Arithmetic and
Geometry are not worthy to absorb a cultivated mind, and the same must be said
of Astrology. You will be surprised to find me suggesting (though with much
more hesitation) that the great and complex art of Rhetoric should be placed in
the same category. My chief reason is the obvious one, that I have in view the
cultivation most fitting to a woman. To her neither the intricacies of debate
nor the oratorical artifices of action and delivery are of the least practical
use, if indeed they are not positively unbecoming. Rhetoric in all its forms—public
discussion, forensic argument, logical fence, and the like—lies absolutely
outside the province of woman.
What
Disciplines then are properly open to her? In the first place she has before
her, as a subject peculiarly her own, the whole field of religion and morals.
The literature of the Church will thus claim her earnest study. Such a writer,
for instance, as St Augustine affords her the fullest scope for reverent yet
learned inquiry. Her devotional instinct may lead her to value the help and
consolation of holy men now living; but in this case let her not for an instant
yield to the impulse to look into their writings, which, compared with those of
Augustine, are utterly destitute of sound and melodious style, and seem to me
to have no attraction whatever.
Moreover,
the cultivated Christian lady has no need in the study of this weighty subject
to confine herself to ecclesiastical writers. Morals, indeed, have been treated
of by the noblest intellects of Greece and Rome. What
they have left to us upon Continence, Temperance, Modesty, Justice, Courage,
Greatness of Soul, demands your sincere respect. You must enter into such
questions as the sufficiency of Virtue to Happiness; or whether, if Happiness consist in Virtue, it can be destroyed by torture, imprisonment
or exile; whether, admitting that these may prevent a man from being happy,
they can be further said to make him miserable. Again, does Happiness consist
(with Epicurus) in the presence of pleasure and the absence of pain: or (with
Xenophon) in the consciousness of uprightness: or (with Aristotle) in the
practice of Virtue? These inquiries are, of all others, most worthy to be
pursued by men and women alike; they are fit material for formal discussion and
for literary exercise. Let religion and morals, therefore, hold the first place
in the education of a Christian lady.
But
we must not forget that true distinction is to be gained by a wide and varied
range of such studies as conduce to the profitable enjoyment of life, in which,
however, we must observe due proportion in the attention and time we devote to
them.
First
amongst such studies I place History: a subject which must not on any account
be neglected by one who aspires to true cultivation. For it is our duty to
understand the origins of our own history and its development; and the
achievements of Peoples and of Kings.
For
the careful study of the past enlarges our foresight in contemporary affairs
and affords to citizens and to monarchs lessons of
incitement or warning in the ordering of public policy. From History, also, we
draw our store of examples of moral precepts.
In
the monuments of ancient literature which have come down to us History holds a
position of great distinction. We specially prize such authors as Livy, Sallust
and Curtius; and, perhaps even above these, Julius
Caesar; the style of whose Commentaries, so elegant and so limpid, entitles
them to our warm admiration. Such writers are fully within the comprehension of
a studious lady. For, after all, History is an easy subject: there is nothing
in its study subtle or complex. It consists in the narration of the simplest
matters of fact which, once grasped, are readily retained in the memory.
The
great Orators of antiquity must by all means be included. Nowhere do we find the
virtues more warmly extolled, the vices so fiercely decried. From them we may
learn, also, how to express consolation, encouragement, dissuasion or advice. If the principles which orators set forth are portrayed for us by
philosophers, it us from the former that we learn how to em
ploy the emotions—such as indignation, or pity—in driving home their
application in individual cases. Further, from oratory we derive our
store of those elegant or striking turns of expression which are used with so
much effect in literary compositions. Lastly, in oratory we find that wealth of
vocabulary, that clear easy-flowing style, that verve and force, which are
invaluable to us both in writing and in conversation.
I
come now to Poetry and the Poets—a subject with which every educated lady must
shew her self thoroughly familiar. For
we cannot point to any great mind of the past for whom the Poets had not a
powerful attraction. Aristotle, in constantly quoting Homer, Hesiod,
Pindar, Euripides and other poets, proves that he knew their works hardly less
intimately than those of the philosophers. Plato, also, frequently appeals to them, and in this way covers them with his approval. If we
turn to Cicero, we find him not content with quoting Ennius,
Accius, and others of the Latins,
but rendering poems from the Greek and employing them
habitually. Seneca, the austere, not only abounds in poetical allusions, but
was himself a poet; whilst the great Fathers of the Church, Jerome, Augustine, Lactantius and Boethius, reveal their acquaintance with the
poets in their controversies and, indeed, in all their writings. Hence my view
that familiarity with the great poets of antiquity is essential to any claim to
true education. For in their writings we find deep speculations upon Nature,
and upon the Causes and Origins of things, which must carry weight with us both
from their antiquity and from their authorship. Besides these, many important
truths upon matters of daily life are suggested or illustrated. All this is
expressed with such grace and dignity as demands our admiration. For example,
how vividly is the art of war portrayed in Homer: the duties of a leader of
men: the chances of the field: the varying temper of the host! Wise counsel,
too, is not wanting, as when Hector upbraids Aeneas for too rashly urging the
pursuit. Would, indeed, that in our own day our captains would deign to profit
by this ancient wisdom, to the security of the common-wealth and the saving of
valuable lives! Consider, again, how fitly Iris, descending upon Agamemnon in
his sleep, warns against the sloth of rulers--could Socrates, Plato or
Pythagoras more pointedly exhibit the responsibility of a king of men? There
are the precepts also, not fewer nor less weighty,
which pertain to the arts of peace. But it is time to pass to our own Poets, to
Vergil, who surpasses, it seems to me, all
philosophers in displaying the inner secrets of Nature and of the Soul:
"Know
first, the heaven, the earth, the main,
The moon’s pale
orb, the starry train,
Are nourished by a soul,
A bright
intelligence, whose flame
Glows in each
member of the frame
And stirs the
mighty whole.
Thence souls of
men and cattle spring,
And the gay
people of the wing,
And those
strange shapes that ocean hides
Beneath the smoothness of the tides.
A fiery strength
inspires their lives,
An essence that
from heaven derives,
Though clogged
in part by limbs of clay
And the dull vesture
of decay. "
Nor
can we deny a certain inspiration to a poet who, on the very eve of the
Redeemer’s birth, could speak of “the Virgin’s return,” and “the Divine offspring sent
down from on High.” So thought Lactantius, who
held that the Sibyl here alludes directly to the Saviour. Such power of reading
the future is implied in the name “vates,” so often given to the true poet, and we must all
recognize in such one a certain “possession,” as by a Power other and
stronger than himself.
We
know, however, that in certain quarters—where all knowledge and appreciation of
Letters is wanting—this whole branch of Literature, marked as it is by
something of the Divine, and fit, therefore, for the highest place, is decried
as unworthy of study. But when we remember the value of the best poetry, its
charm of form and the variety and interest of its subject-matter, when we
consider the ease with which from our childhood up it can be committed to
memory, when we recall the peculiar affinity of rhythm and metre
to our emotions and our intelligence, we must conclude that Nature herself is
against such headlong critics. Have we not often felt the sudden uplifting of
the Soul when in the solemn Office of the Mass such a passage as the Primo dierum omnium bursts upon us? It is not hard for us, then, to
understand what the Ancients meant when they said that the Soul is ordered in
special relation to the principles of Harmony and Rhythm, and is, therefore, by
no other influence so fitly and so surely moved. Hence I hold my conviction to
be securely based; namely, that Poetry has, by our very constitution, a
stronger attraction for us than any other form of expression, and that anyone
ignorant of, and indifferent to, so valuable an aid to knowledge and so
ennobling a source of pleasure can by no means be entitled to be called
educated. If I seem to have dwelt at undue length upon this matter, please
believe that my difficulty has rather been to restrain myself, so keenly do I
feel upon it. I do not forget that one of your own House
has expressly taken up a position in a contrary sense. He, indeed, justly
commands the respect of all. But there are disputants of another class. Their
attitude is merely this: the themes of the ancient poets are chosen from
stories of love and sin. But I point to the tale of Penelope and Ulysses, of
Alcestis and Admetus, which are but typical of many
others, and I ask, “Where can you find nobler examples of constancy and
devotion, or more pointed lessons in the highest virtues of womanhood?” “True,” it is replied, “but
there are stories of a different kind, of Phoebus and Danae,
of Vulcan and Venus.” But who can fail to understand that such fictions are
not to be read literally, that such episodes are insignificant in number as
compared with that great array of noble figures which stand forth from the
pages of Vergil and Homer, and that it is unjust criticism to ignore the
beauties of any work of art and to call attention only to its blemishes? “Yes, but, like Cato, we are
willing to sacrifice the beauties so we be not soiled
by the blots: hence we would neither read the poets ourselves nor put them into
the hands of others.” Plato and Aristotle, however, studied the poets, and
I decline to admit that in practical wisdom or in moral earnestness they yield
to our modern critics. They were not Christians, indeed, but consistency of
life and abhorrence of evil existed before Christianity and are independent of
it. Suppose we turn to the Scriptures. We must admit that they contain not a
few narratives which compare unfavourably with any
treated by the poets, but we do not for that reason prohibit the Bible. When I
read the loves of Aeneas and Dido in the Aeneid I pay my tribute of admiration
to the genius of the poet, but the matter itself I know to be a fiction, and
thus it leaves no moral impression: and so in other instances of the kind,
where literal truth is not the object aimed at. The Scriptures, on the other
hand, whose literal accuracy no one questions, not seldom
cause me misgivings on this head.
But
I am ready to admit that there are two types of poet: the aristocracy, so to
call them, of their craft, and the vulgar, and that the latter may be put aside
in ordering a woman’s reading. A comic dramatist may season his wit too
highly: a satirist describe too bluntly the moral
corruption which he scourges: let her pass them by. Vergil, on the other hand,
Seneca, Statius, and others like them, rank with the noblest names, and may,
nay must, be the trusted companions of all who aspire to be called cultivated.
To
sum up what I have endeavoured to set forth. That
high standard of education to which I referred at the outset is only to be
reached by one who has seen many things and read much. Poet, Orator, Historian,
and the rest, all must be studied, each must contribute a share. Our learning
thus becomes full, ready, varied and elegant, available for action or for
discourse in all subjects. But to enable us to make effectual use of what we
know we must add to our knowledge the power of expression. These two sides of
learning, indeed, should not be separated: they afford mutual aid and
distinction. Proficiency in literary form, not accompanied by broad
acquaintance with facts and truths, is a barren attainment; whilst information,
however vast, which lacks all grace of expression, would seem to be put under a
bushel or partly thrown away. Indeed, one may fairly ask what advantage it is
to possess profound and varied learning if one cannot convey it in language
worthy of the subject. Where, however, this double capacity exists--breadth of
learning and grace of style--we allow the highest title to distinction and to
abiding fame. If we review the great names of ancient literature, Plato,
Democritus, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Varro, Cicero, Seneca, Augustine, Jerome, Lactantius, we shall find it hard to say whether we admire
more their attainments or their literary power.
But
my last word must be this. The intelligence that aspires to the best must aim
at both. In doing so, all sources of profitable learning will in due proportion
claim your study. None have more urgent claim than the subjects and authors
which treat of Religion and of our duties in the world; and it is because they
assist and illustrate these supreme studies that I press upon your attention
the works of the most approved poets, historians and orators of the past.