The last of these orthodox humanists was Johannes Trithemius,
Abbot of Sponheim, who nevertheless wrote in 1496: "The days of
building monasteries are past; the days of their destruction are
coming." `061566 A less devout humanist, Celtes, described
Trithemius as "abstemious in drink, disdaining animal food, living
on vegetables, eggs, and milk, as did our ancestors when... no doctors
had begun to brew their gout-and-fever-breeding
concoctions." *06037 `061567 In his brief life he became a very
summa of learning: skilled in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and their
literatures, and carrying on a correspondence with Erasmus,
Maximilian, Imperial electors, and other celebrities. The common
people of the time could only explain his attainments on the theory
that he possessed secret supernatural powers. However, he died at
fifty-four (1516).
Conradus Celtes was the most zealous and effective of the German
humanists. Passing like some hurried diplomat of letters from city
to city, studying in Italy, Poland, and Hungary, teaching in
Cologne, Heidelberg, Cracow, Prague, Mainz, Vienna, Ingolstadt, Padua,
Nuremberg, he unearthed precious forgotten manuscripts like the
plays of Hrotswitha, and ancient maps like that which he gave to
Peutinger, whose name it came to bear. Wherever he went he gathered
students about him, and inspired them with his passion for poetry,
classical literature, and German antiquities. In 1447, at Nuremberg,
the Emperor Frederick III crowned him poet laureate of Germany. At
Mainz Celtes founded (1491) the influential Rhenish Literary
Society, which included scientists, theologians, philosophers,
physicians, historians, poets, such lawyers as the distinguished
jurist Ulrich Zasius, and such scholars as Pirkheimer, Trithemius,
Reuchlin, and Wimpheling. At Vienna, with funds provided by
Maximilian, he organized (1501) an Academy of Poetry which became an
honored part of the university, and in which teachers and pupils lived
together in the same house and enterprise. In the course of his
studies Celtes apparently lost his religious faith; he raised such
questions as "Will the soul live after death?" and "Is there,
really, a God?" In his travels he took many samples of femininity, but
none to the altar; and he concluded lightheartedly that "there is
nothing sweeter under the sun, to banish care, than a pretty maid in a