HISTORICAL ANALYSIS OF INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT.
From the rapid view we have taken of the several branches of learning
in their relations to the authority of the Church, it is clear to a
demonstration, that the alleged enslavement of the intellect amongst
Catholics is nothing but a mere bugbear: in no respect does our faith
either arrest or retard the progress of learning. Since, however, it
not unfrequently happens that, in arguments apparently the most solid,
a flaw is discovered when they are brought to the test of facts, it
will be well to corroborate our assertion by historical testimony;
fully assured as we are, that the result must be favorable to the cause
of truth. We will begin at the beginning.
M. Guizot maintains that the contest between the Church and the
advocates of the freedom of thought originated in the middle ages.
Noticing the efforts of John Erigena, Roscelin, Abelard, and the alarm
they excited in the Church, he observes: "This was the great event
that occurred at the end of the eleventh, and at the beginning of the
twelfth centuries, at a time when the Church was under theocratic and
monastic influence. It was then that, for the first time, a serious
struggle was commenced between the clergy and the freethinkers."
(_Hist. Générale de la Civilisation en Europe. Leçon 6._) The entire
scope of M. Guizot's work shows that, in his judgment, the best-founded
reproach that could be cast upon the Catholic Church was, that she
checked the freedom of thought. According to him, this is the point
upon which the advantage of the Protestant system over Catholicity is
the least controvertible. His object being the complete development of
this idea, in treating of the religious revolution of the sixteenth
century it was requisite for him to deposit it as a seed in his
preliminary lectures; as otherwise the fact of the Reformation would
have appeared isolated, and shorn of its importance. Besides, it was
necessary that the resistance of Protestants to the Catholic Church
should have a meaning; that it should carry with it the appearance
of a noble and generous thought; that it should be regarded as the
proclamation of the freedom of the human mind. To attain this end,
the Church, on the one hand, must be represented as asserting claims
in the middle ages to which she had not previously pretended; and, on
the other, those writers who resisted these alleged pretensions of the
Church must be held up as men of extraordinary penetration.
Now, such is precisely the thread of M. Guizot's discourse; and we
hence infer his efforts to prepare beforehand the triumph of his
opinions. His plan, however, is ill-concerted; for he appears to have
overlooked the most palpable facts in the history of the Church; and
not even to have known what were the doctrines of the three champions,
whose names he invokes with so much complacency. That no one may
accuse me of making inconsiderate assertions, I will here quote his
words literally: "Thus every thing," says he, "seemed turning to the
advantage of the Church, of her unity, and of her power. But whilst
the Papacy was grasping at the government of the world, whilst the
monasteries were undergoing a moral reformation, a few powerful but
isolated individuals claimed for human reason the right of being
something in man, the right to interfere in the formation of his
opinions. Most of them refrained from attacking received opinions, or
religious belief; they merely said that reason had a right to prove
them; and that it was not enough that they were affirmed by authority.
John Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard were the interpreters, through whom
individual reason began to lay claim to her inheritance--the first
authors of that movement of liberty, which was associated with the
reform movement of Hildebrand and St. Bernard. If we seek the dominant
feature of this movement, we shall find that it was not a change of
opinion, a revolt against the system of public belief; it was simply
the right of reasoning claimed for reason." (_Hist. Générale de la
Civilisation en Europe. Leçon 6._)
We will pass over the author's singular parallel between the efforts of
John Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard, and those of the great reformers,
Hildebrand or St. Gregory VII., and St. Bernard. These latter sought
to reform the Church by legitimate means, to render the clergy more
venerable by making them more virtuous, and to win greater respect for
authority by sanctifying the persons entrusted with its exercise: the
others, according to M. Guizot, resisted this authority in matters
of faith; that is, they aimed at its overthrow, and for this purpose
laid the axe to the root; the former _were_ reformers, the latter
devastators: and yet we are told that their efforts were directed to
one and the same object, had one and the same tendency. Verily, the
philosophy of history were a sorry thing, if it could allow of such
a confusion of ideas! What progress can be made in this branch of
knowledge, by men who have so strange a way of dealing with facts? But,
I repeat, let us take leave of these aberrations, and fix our attention
specially on two points: the worth of these three writers, so much
vaunted, and the idea we are told to entertain of their resistance to
authority. Doubtless the names of John Erigena and Roscelin are already
pronounced with respect by those persons who would fain be thought well
versed in the philosophy of history, without having ever read history,
and who are obliged to content themselves with those easy lessons that
are learned in an hour, and studied in an evening. With persons of this
description, it is enough to have heard these names pronounced with
emphasis, to have seen them coupled with epithets, such as _powerful
men_, _advocates of human reason_, _interpreters of individual reason_,
to make them fancy that learning is no less indebted to Erigena and
Roscelin than to Descartes or Bacon.
Without bearing in mind the remarks I have already made on the
peculiarity of M. Guizot's position, it would not be easy to conjecture
why he should seek to represent as new and extraordinary, what was,
in fact, neither new nor uncommon; how he could say that the Church
first began the contest against liberty of thought, when she put down
Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard. He brings forward these three writers,
as though their influence had been paramount; whereas they had no more
influence than other sectarians, who abounded in preceding centuries.
Who and what really was this John Erigena? A writer but imperfectly
versed in theological science; but who, puffed up by the favor shown
him by Charles the Bold, broached certain errors on the subject of the
Eucharist, predestination and grace. In all that, I see only a man
departing from the doctrine of the Church; and in Nicholas the First
attempting to stop him in his career, I see only a Pope fulfilling his
duty. What is there in all this either new or extraordinary? Does not
the whole history of the Church, from the time of the Apostles, exhibit
an unbroken succession of similar facts?
I repeat, it is impossible to conceive for what purpose the name
of Erigena is brought forward. His errors produced no result of
importance; and the age in which he lived cannot be considered as
having exercised any great influence on the intellectual development
of subsequent times. He lived in the ninth century. Now, this century
had no share in the movement of those that followed; indeed, it is
well known that the tenth century was the darkest period of ignorance
during the middle ages; and that the intellectual movement commenced
only at the close of the tenth, and at the opening of the eleventh
century. Erigena and Roscelin are separated by two centuries. As for
Roscelin and Abelard, it is easier to understand why their names are
cited. Every one knows the noise that Abelard made in the world by
his doctrines, and perhaps still more by his adventures. Roscelin may
also command attention by his errors, and especially as the master of
Abelard.
To give an idea of the spirit that guided these men, and of the opinion
we are to form of their intentions, we must enter into some details
touching their lives and their doctrines. Roscelin was one of the most
crafty men of his time. A subtle dialectician and warm partizan of
the sect of the Nominalists, he substituted his own opinions for the
teaching of the Church; and ended by falling into the gravest errors on
the sacred mystery of the Trinity. History has recorded a fact, that
proves incontestably the notorious dishonesty of the man--his want
of probity and of modesty. At the time that Roscelin was propagating
his errors, St. Anselm, who was afterwards archbishop of Canterbury,
was living, but at that time abbot of Beck. Lanfranc, archbishop of
Canterbury, who died some time before, had left behind him the highest
reputation for virtue and sound doctrine. Roscelin thought that the
authority of so high a name would give currency and consideration to
his errors; and, resorting to the foulest calumny, he affirmed that his
opinions were the same as those of Archbishop Lanfranc, and Anselm,
abbot of Beck. To this calumny Lanfranc could not reply, as he was
already in the tomb; but the abbot of Beck vigorously repelled so
unjust an imputation; and at the same time vindicated the reputation
of Lanfranc, who had been his master. The works of St. Anselm leave
no doubt as to the nature of Roscelin's errors. We find them recorded
with the greatest precision. In fact, it were difficult to say why M.
Guizot has conferred so much importance upon this man, or why he should
be adduced as one of the principal champions of the freedom of thought.
There is nothing in Roscelin to distinguish him from other heretics.
He is a man who employs artifices and subtleties, and falls into
error; but nothing is more common in the history of the Church; and it
certainly cannot be considered matter of astonishment.
Abelard is more deserving of notice: his name has become so famous that
no one is unacquainted with his sad adventures. A disciple of Roscelin,
and as well skilled as his master in the dialectics of the age,
endowed with great talents, and eager to parade them on the principal
theatres of literature, Abelard earned a reputation never attained
by the dialectician of Compiègne. His errors on points of very great
importance produced much mischief in the Church, and drew upon himself
many sorrows. But it is not true, as M. Guizot will have it, that his
doctrines met with less reproof than his method; neither is it true
that he and his master Roscelin had no intention of effecting a radical
change in matters of doctrine. Evidence of a most unexceptionable kind
fortunately places the matter beyond all doubt, and proves that it
was not Roscelin's method, but his error on the Trinity, for which he
was condemned. Nor have we less certainty in the case of Abelard; for
the various errors taken from his works are preserved in the form of
articles.
We learn from St. Bernard, that on the Trinity, Abelard held the
opinions of Arius--on the Incarnation, those of Nestorius--on grace,
those of Pelagius. All this did not merely _tend_ to a radical change
of doctrine, but actually was one. I do not know that Abelard ever
protested against the truth of these accusations; and even if he had,
we all know how to estimate such a protest. It is certain that, in the
famous Assembly of Sens--convoked at the request of Abelard himself--he
had not a word to say in reply to the sainted abbot of Clairvaux, who
reproached him with his errors; and laying before him the very words
of his propositions, extracted from his writings, urged him either
to defend or abjure them. Abelard, confronted with so formidable an
adversary, was so embarrassed that he could only say, in reply, that
he appealed to Rome. The Council of Sens, out of respect for the Holy
See, abstained from condemning the person of the innovator, but did
not fail to condemn his errors; and this condemnation was approved by
the Sovereign Pontiff, and extended to his person also. Now, from the
articles containing the errors of Abelard, it does not appear that
his dominant idea was to proclaim the liberty of thought. He has, it
is true, an overweening confidence in his own subtleties; but, beyond
this, his only fault is an erroneous and dogmatizing spirit on points
of the greatest importance; a fault which he had in common with all the
heretics who preceded him.
All this M. Guizot ought to have known; how he can have overlooked it
I cannot imagine, nor why he attaches to these authors an importance
which they really do not deserve. Perhaps he was anxious to furnish
Protestants with some illustrious predecessors, when he laid such
stress on the names of Roscelin and Abelard. These two, after all, were
not deficient in ability or in erudition, and they lived precisely
during the early period of the intellectual movement. Probably M.
Guizot thought, that to bring these two innovators upon the scene would
answer his purpose extremely well, as showing that, from the very
dawn of intellectual development, men of the greatest fame had raised
their voices in favor of freedom of thought. After all, had M. Guizot
succeeded in proving that John Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard aimed at
nothing more than the assertion of the right of private examination in
matters of faith, it would not follow that these innovators had not
sought to effect a radical change in matters of doctrine. In fact, what
can be more radical as regards matters of faith than that which strikes
at authority, the root of all certainty? Neither would it follow, that
in condemning the errors of these men the Church had taken alarm merely
at their _method_; for if this method was to consist in withdrawing the
intellect from the yoke of authority, even in matters of faith, it was
itself a very grievous error, combated at all times by the Catholic
Church, which never would consent to have her authority called in
question on points of faith.
And yet, if these innovators had entered into the contest chiefly
for the purpose of contending against authority in matters of faith,
M. Guizot would have had some reason to notice their proceedings as
constituting a new era; but, strange to say, their propositions do not
appear to have been drawn up with a view to advocate the independence
of thought, nor against authority in matters of faith; it was not
for such an attempt, but for other errors, that the Church condemned
them. Where, then, are the accuracy and historical truth which we
should expect from such a man as M. Guizot? How could he venture, in
addressing a numerous audience, thus to substitute his own thoughts
for facts? The fact is, he well knew that these were matters generally
treated very superficially; that to gain the sympathy of superficial
men it would suffice to speak in pompous terms of the liberty of
thought, to pronounce certain names probably heard by many for the
first time, such as Erigena and Roscelin, and especially to mention the
unfortunate lover of Heloïse.
M. Guizot, unable to conceal from himself that his observations upon
this period were somewhat feeble, tries to apply a remedy by inserting
a passage from the _Introduction to the Theology_ of Abelard, which, in
my opinion, is very far from answering the purpose of the publicist.
His object, in fact, is to show that from that very period a vigorous
spirit of resistance to the authority of the Church in matters of faith
had sprung up, and that the human mind was even then longing to burst
asunder the fetters in which it had been held. He would have us believe
that Abelard, yielding to the importunities of his own disciples, had
the courage to throw off the yoke of authority; and that his writings
were, to a certain extent, the expression of a necessity long felt, of
an idea with which many minds had long been agitated. The following
is the passage referred to: "If we seek the dominant feature of this
movement, we shall find that it was not a change of opinion, a revolt
against the system of public belief; it was simply the right of
reasoning claimed for reason."
We have already seen how utterly devoid of truth is this assertion of
the publicist. The very attack upon authority was itself a radical
change in opinions, and a revolution in received doctrines; for the
authority of the Church was in itself a dogma, and formed the basis
of all religious belief, as experience has satisfactorily shown,
since the appearance of Protestantism at the commencement of the
sixteenth century. But let us allow the historian to proceed: "The
disciples of Abelard, as he himself tells us in his _Introduction to
Theology_, required of him philosophical arguments, and such as would
satisfy reason, requesting him to teach them not merely to repeat his
instructions, but to understand them also; for no one can believe
what he does not understand, and it is ridiculous to preach to others
things that neither the teacher nor his pupils understand. 'What object
can the study of philosophy have but that of leading the mind to the
contemplation of God, to whom all things are to be referred? Why are
the faithful allowed to read works treating of worldly affairs and the
books of the Gentiles, except to prepare them to understand the sacred
Scriptures, and to furnish them with the skill necessary for their
defence?... For this purpose alone we should avail ourselves of all
our reasoning powers, lest, on questions so difficult and complicated
as those that form the object of Christian faith, the subtilty of our
opponents should too readily injure the purity of our faith.'"
It cannot be denied, that in Abelard's time a lively curiosity aroused
men's minds to employ all their powers to be able to give a reason
for what they believed; but it is not true that the Church threw any
obstacle in the way of this movement, considering it as a scientific
method, and so long as it did not overstep legitimate bounds, and
attack or undermine the articles of faith. It is impossible to take
a more unfavorable view of the Church than M. Guizot has here taken
of her; nor could any one more completely overlook, I will even say
distort, facts.
"The importance of this first attempt at liberty," says he, "of this
revival of the spirit of inquiry, was soon felt. The Church, though
engaged in effecting her own reform, took the alarm nevertheless, and
at once declared war against the reformers, whose new methods menaced
her with more evils than their doctrines."
Thus is the Church represented as conspiring against the progress
of thought, repressing with a strong arm the first attempts of the
mind to advance in the path of science, and laying aside questions of
doctrine to contend against methods; and all this, we are told, as
if it were something new and wonderful. "For," says M. Guizot, "this
was the great event which occurred at the end of the eleventh and
beginning of the twelfth centuries, at a time when the Church was under
theocratic and monastic influence. It was now that, for the first time,
a serious struggle commenced between the clergy and the freethinkers.
The quarrels of Abelard and St. Bernard, the Councils of Soissons and
Sens, in which Abelard was condemned, merely give expression to this
event, which has occupied so large a space in the history of modern
civilization."
Still the same confusion of ideas. I have said already, and must repeat
here that the Church has condemned no method; it was not a _method_,
but error, that the Church condemned, unless by a method be meant an
assault upon the articles of faith, under pretence of breaking the
fetters of authority, which is not merely a method, but an error of the
very highest import. In reproving a pernicious doctrine, subversive of
all faith, and denying the infallibility of the See of St. Peter in
matters of doctrine, the Church did not put forth any new pretensions;
her conduct has always been the same ever since the time of the
Apostles, and is the same still. The moment a doctrine is propagated
that appears in the least degree dangerous, the Church examines it,
compares it with the sacred deposit of truth confided to her; if the
doctrine is not inconsistent with divine truth, she allows it free
circulation, for she is not ignorant that _God has given up the world
to the controversies of men_; but if it is opposed to the faith, its
condemnation is irremissible, without concern or regret. Were the
Church to act otherwise, she would contradict herself, and cease to be
what she is, the jealous depository of divine truth. If she allowed her
infallible authority to be questioned, that moment she would forget one
of her most sacred obligations, and would lose all claim on our belief;
for, in betraying an indifference for truth, she would prove herself to
be no longer a religion descended from heaven, but a mere delusion.
Precisely at the time of which M. Guizot speaks, we observe a fact
which proves that the Church allows free scope to the exercise of
thought. The high reputation which St. Anselm sustained during his
whole career, and the great esteem in which he was held by the
Sovereign Pontiffs of his time, are well known; yet St. Anselm
philosophised with great freedom. In the introduction to his
_Monologue_, he tells us that some persons entreated him to explain
things by reason alone, without the aid of the sacred Scriptures. The
Saint was not afraid to comply with their request, and he accordingly
wrote the little work we have just named. In other parts of his works,
too, St. Anselm adopts the same method. Very few persons concern
themselves now-a-days about ancient writers, and doubtless very few
have read the works of the holy Doctor of whom we are speaking. They
display, however, such perspicuity of thought, such solid reasoning,
and above all such a discreet and temperate judgment, that we are
surprised to find the human mind, at the very commencement of the
intellectual movement, attaining to so high an elevation. In him we
find the greatest freedom of thought combined with the respect due
to the authority of the Church; and far from impairing the vigor of
his ideas, this respect augments their force and perspicuity. From
his works we learn that Abelard was not the only one who taught, _not
merely to repeat his lectures, but also to understand them_; for St.
Anselm, some years previous, followed the same method with a clearness
and solidity far beyond what could be expected at that time. We there
discover, also, that in the bosom of the Catholic Church men carried
the operations of reason to the greatest possible extent, though always
within the bounds prescribed by its own weakness, and with reverential
regard to the sacred veil that shrouds august mysteries.
The works of St. Anselm prove that Abelard was not exactly the man
to teach the world that the end of philosophical studies is to lead
the mind to the contemplation of God, to whom all things should be
referred; and that we should avail ourselves of all our reasoning
powers, lest on questions so difficult and complicated as those that
form the object of Christian faith, the subtilties of our opponents
should too readily injure the purity of our faith. But from the Saint's
profound submission to the authority of the Church, from the candor and
ingenuousness with which he acknowledges the limits of the human mind,
we see that he was persuaded _that it is not impossible to believe what
we do not comprehend_; and, in fact, there is a wide difference between
the conviction that a thing exists, and a clear knowledge of the nature
of the thing in the existence of which we believe.