mechanism which had kept society together in the fifth century was
worn out, broken, rejected. There was no literature, no
philosophy, no poetry, no history, and no art. Even the clergy had
become ignorant, superstitious, and idle. Forms had taken the
place of faith. No great theologians had arisen since Saint
Augustine. The piety of the age hid itself in monasteries; and
these monasteries were as funereal as society itself. Men
despaired of the world, and retreated from it to sing mournful
songs. The architecture of the age expressed the sentiments of the
age, and was heavy, gloomy, and monotonous. "The barbarians
ruthlessly marched over the ruins of cities and palaces, having no
regard for the treasures of the classic world, and unmoved by the
lessons of its past experience." Rome itself, repeatedly sacked,
was a heap of ruins. No reconstruction had taken place. Gardens
and villas were as desolate as the ruined palaces, which were the
abodes of owls and spiders. The immortal creations of the chisel
were used to prop up old crumbling walls. The costly monuments of
senatorial pride were broken to pieces in sport or in caprice, and
those structures which had excited the admiration of ages were
pulled down that their material might be used in erecting tasteless
edifices. Literature shared the general desolation. The valued
manuscripts of classical ages were mutilated, erased, or burned.
Ignorance finished the destruction which the barbarians began.
Ignorance as well as anarchy veiled Europe in darkness. The rust
of barbarism became harder and thicker. The last hope of man had
fled, and glory was succeeded by shame. Even slavery, the curse of
the Roman Empire, was continued by the barbarians; only, brute
force was not made subservient to intellect, but intellect to brute
force. The descendants of ancient patrician families were in
bondage to barbarians. The age was the jubilee of monsters.