It is curious to find that at the beginning of our period, in which we have tried to demonstrate the supremacy of the Gallic schools, there was a tradition that the Gauls were dull and slow of understanding, and that this opinion persists in the writings of Jerome.
The case of the ‘advocatus diaboli’ may be briefly put. Julian, in his satire on the citizens of Antioch, constantly speaks of the boorishness of the Gauls, whom he calls[304] Κελτοί or Γαλάται. To Alypius, the brother of Caesarius, he writes of the barbarous Muse of Gaul (ταῦτά σοι Γαλλικὴ καὶ βάρβαρος Μοῦσα προσπαίζει), and in the Misopogon the Celts (and he is thinking of the Gauls among whom he had lived) are classed with Syrians, Arabs, Thracians, Paeonians, and Mysians—a stock which is utterly lacking in culture—ἄγροικον, αὐστηρόν, ἀδέξιον ... ἂ δὴ πάντα ἐστὶ δείγματα δεινῆς ἀγροικίας.[305] Referring to his residence among the barbarous Celts like a hunter surrounded by wild beasts,[306] he says he is ἀγριώτρος than Cato in proportion as the Celts are more uncivilized than the Romans; and the Antiochean is represented as flinging the taunt into Julian’s face: ταῦτα ἐνόμισας Θρᾳξὶ νομοθετεῖν ... ἤ τοῖς ἀναισθήτοις Γαλάταις.[307]
Now all these references are sarcastic: ‘the boorish Gauls could put up with my eccentricities, but Antioch, forsooth, was too polished and cultured to tolerate them!’ The satire does not deny the barbarism of the Gauls; it merely establishes the vanity of the Antiocheans. But the passages quoted show the ἄγροίκοι is accepted as the current estimation of the Gauls; and even if Julian did not really believe it, obviously there was a body of opinion which did. Nor is it mere ἀγροικία, lack of culture, which may be due to lack of opportunity, that is imputed to them: it is also ἀναισθησία, dullness, with which they are charged. This part of the tradition finds support elsewhere. Martial had called Bordeaux ‘crassa’,[308] and Gallic credulity was proverbial.[309] Jerome says in his commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians[310] that it was no wonder they were so stupid, seeing that their ancestors, the Gauls, had that reputation—‘cum et Hilarius Latinae eloquentiae Rhodanus, Gallus ipse et Pictavis genitus, in Hymnorum carmine Gallos indociles vocet’. The et is significant, and also seems to imply a tradition to the effect that the Gauls were stupid. It is interesting to find that a French scholar and patriot, who has studied the schools of Gaul with care, is inclined to accept Martial’s judgement for the smaller towns.[311]
In estimating the worth of this opinion, we must first of all discount a good deal of what Julian says. His mind was saturated with Hellenic philosophy and Hellas was the passion of his life. Hence he naturally despised Roman culture, and still more the Gauls whom the Romans contemned. The Greek idea of βάρβαροι would be strong in a mind like Julian’s. He did not mingle with the provincials; by the liberality of Eusebia, he says,[312] he was constantly surrounded by Greek books, so that Gaul and Germany became for him a Μουσεῖον Ἑλληνικόν. He would therefore be distinctly prejudiced, and incapable of appreciating the qualities or the culture of the Gallic mind.
Moreover, there is another and an opposite tradition. Caesar distinctly testifies to their exceptional cleverness: ‘est summae genus sollertiae atque ad omnia imitanda atque efficienda, quae a quoque traduntur, aptissimum’,[313] and Diodorus is as clear: ταῖς δὲ διανοίαις ὀξεῖς καὶ πρὸς μάθησιν οὐκ ἀφυεῖς.[314] Clement of Alexandria, in his attempt to show that the Greeks by no means had the monopoly of philosophy, even went so far as to say, with manifest exaggeration, that the Gauls preceded and instructed the Greeks in philosophy,[315] and Claudian, disagreeing at any rate with the charge of dullness, in so far as slowness of spirit is suggested, applied to Gaul the adjective animosa.[316]
Caesar tells us that the Gallic liveliness of spirit manifested itself in a curiosity about distant lands, an eagerness to learn from travellers, whom they detained, even against their will, plying them with many questions on every subject. In the towns a crowd would gather around some newly arrived merchant and compel him to describe the countries of his travel and their affairs.[317]
This is the kind of curiosity that makes for knowledge and science, and it is hard to reconcile with the characteristics of dullness and stupidity. The width and general soundness of Caesar’s observation gives to his testimony a value which the other statements lack, for they are mostly founded on hearsay or particular cases. With regard to Hilary’s statement, Jung points out that the Pictavi seem from Ausonius to have been very backward in letters. Eight epigrams are directed against Rufus, rhetor at Poitiers, jibing at his lack of culture,[318] while another Pictavian teacher, Anastasius, was not much of a success.[319] ‘Can we wonder’, he concludes, ‘that Hilary calls the Gauls unteachable in the singing of hymns, when he himself was born at Poitiers?’[320]
But a tradition applied to a whole nation, and dating from the early days of the Empire, cannot be explained by a few particular cases. The motives that prompted particular writers to accept the tradition may be particular, but its origin must be sought in some more general principle. It was an attitude of mind, an habitual way of looking at things that was responsible. It was the ingrained pagan idea of ‘barbari’ (increased, perhaps, in the case of the Gauls by their reputation for warlike impetuosity),[321] the idea which Christian writers like Paul and Clement of Alexandria set themselves to combat, the idea of a chosen people and a chosen culture. It was a habit of mind which did not imply enmity or hatred: sometimes it did not even imply contempt. It was just the tradition of superiority (largely true), grown customary in the minds of a ruling people whose customs and language other nations accepted. But just because it had an element of truth in it, there was a danger of its being made universal, a chance that it might blind the ruler to the individuality of the subject and preclude a sympathetic study of the provincial. It is this attitude, and its attendant misunderstanding, together with the general impression which the large number of country people would make on the dweller in the metropolis, that are responsible for such judgements as Martial’s crassa. But there can be no doubt that during our period this surprising opinion must have been less commonly held and less generally applied, in view of Gaul’s growing importance as a teacher of the Empire.