the schools attached to the greater monasteries and cathedrals. But these, even if a few, especially in Lotharingia, retained something of their vital force, had long lost their popularity and become appropriated to a class. The slender tradition of learning and thought lay hidden in their libraries rather than shone forth in the mechanical instruction of their teachers. The rare pupils who sought for knowledge were left, as we may learn from the experience of bishop Ratherius, to discover it by their own labour. The pursuit of the few was looked on with suspicious jealousy by the many, and the most tentative steps towards enlarging the compass of education were mistrusted as though they had been directed against religion. An excellent illustration of this attitude of mind is afforded by the history of Bruno the Saxon, known by the time-honoured name of saint Bruno. His brother, Otto the Great, was never more consciously the successor of the great Charles and the second founder of the medieval empire, than when he set himself to organise a body of ministers specially educated for the duties of government. The chancellorship had by this time become a mere titular appendage to the archbishops of Mentz, Cologne, Trèves, and Salzburg, whose work was done by the royal chancery or chapel, the staff of clergymen of the household. It was of the first importance not only to train these into efficiency but also to bring up a new generation of administrators qualified to manage the affairs of what was soon to be an empire. This task Otto entrusted to the young abbat Bruno,[1] who wisely recognised the necessity of promoting the widest learning attainable. Among his studies Greek is specially mentioned. It is an interesting circumstance that now, as in the first foundation of the Palace School by Charles, it was to the British islands that the German looked for help; and Israel, a Scottish bishop,[2] was called from his cloister
