But we might continue for a long time to bring together facts of this kind. Enough has been written to suggest the character and extent of the work done by the churches. Many of these small collections were for use in connexion with the schools; they were formed for the benefit of clergy and the increase of clergy. The few books chained up in the churches for the use of the people were displayed for various reasons. The _Catholicon_, a Latin grammar and a dictionary, was a large book, obtainable only at great cost, yet for reference purposes all students and scholars constantly needed it. Wealthy ecclesiastics and benefactors would therefore naturally leave such a book for chaining up in the church, which was then the real centre of communal life. The _Catholicon_ was chained up for reference in French churches, and the practice was imitated here, possibly in nearly all the large churches.[337] The _Medulla grammatice_, left to King’s Norton Church by Sir Thomas Lyttleton, was a book of similar character, and would be deposited in church for a like purpose. Books of canon law would also be useful for reference purposes when chained in the church. Some other shackled books were homiletical in character. Should we be accused of excess of imagination if we conjured up a picture of a little cluster of people standing by a clerk who reads to them a sermon or a passage of Holy Writ? The collection of tales, each with a moral, known as the _Gesta Romanorum_, would make especially attractive reading. Some books often found in churches and frequently mentioned in this book, as the _Summa Praedicantium_ of John de Bromyarde, _Pupilla Oculi_, by John de Burgo, and the _Speculum Christiani_, by John Walton, were manuals for the instruction of priests.
ST. MARY’S CHURCH, OXFORD: THE FIRST HOME OF THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY]
Probably a few scribes plied their craft in Oxford in early days long before the students began to make a settlement, for the town had been a flourishing borough, one of the largest in England. But until the end of the twelfth century we hear nothing about books and their makers or users in Oxford. Then we find illuminators, bookbinders, parchmenters, and a scribe referred to in a document relating to the sale of land in Cat Street. This record is very significant, as it suggests the active employment of book-makers in the centre of Oxford’s student life. St. Mary’s Church was the hub. Cat Street, School Street running parallel with it from High Street to the north boundary, and Schydyard Street, the continuation of School Street on the southern side of High Street, alleys of the usual medieval narrowness and mean appearance, the buildings on either hand almost touching one another, and the way dark--were the haunts of masters and scholars and all those depending on them. Students, old and young, of high station and low, are crowded in lodging-houses, many of which are shabby, dirty, and disreputable. Hence they come forth to play their games or carry on their feuds. Some haunt taverns and worse places. Others eke out their means by begging at street corners. All get their teaching by gathering round masters whose rostrum is the church doorstep or the threshold of the lodging-house. Amid the manifold distractions of this queerly-ordered life the maker and seller of books earns what living he can; his chief patrons being indigent masters, who often must starve themselves to get books, and students so poor that pawning becomes a custom regulated by the University itself.