CHAPTER IV.

PHILOSOPHY.

The era of the subversion of the western empire, A.D. 476, presents a

point from which a step forward, and a change for the better in human

affairs, was distinctly marked. It was one from which we may most

advantageously survey the field of political and moral philosophy.

The exterminating swords of barbarian conquerors left scarcely a

vestige of former systems behind them. A deluge of new influences

prevailed, and the moral aspect of earth was transformed. Men came

upon a broader stage, amid more expanding scenes, and were soon acting

a new character under impulses and in situations before unknown.

Standing on this elevation, we see that old things have passed away,

and all things have become new; mental pursuits in general have assumed

an augmented interest, and especially is philosophy improved in its

influence, accelerated in its progress, and enlarged in its extent. As

the gorgeous but unsatisfactory pictures of oriental mysticism gave

place to the fervor and fluctuations of more intellectual destinies in

Greece--gleams of grandeur and wide tracks of gloom--and as this in

turn fell before the gradual rise, broad dominion, and fatal decline of

mighty Rome, so the latter sank in darkness, but the night of its tomb

was soon seen to rest on a horizon of immortal day, which eventually

rose to the zenith with augmented splendor. The Hyrcinian forest teemed

with nascent states, and islands which the empress of the seven hills

had known only to despise, assumed an imposing attitude to produce a

language and dictate laws over realms wider than Rome ever knew.

Greek and Roman philosophy comprised the free efforts of reason to

acquire a knowledge of first principles and the laws of nature,

without a clear consciousness of the method most conducive to such

attainments. The philosophy of the middle ages endeavored to attain the

same end, but under the influence of a principle superior to itself,

derived from revelation. In the course of transitional progress, it

fell into a spirit exclusively dialectic, whence it emerged through

fresh and independent exertions toward the discovery of fundamental

principles. Thenceforth a combination of all human knowledge, in a more

complete and systematic form, has tended with unfaltering success to

explore, found, and define the principles of philosophy as a science.

This, like every other element of cotemporaneous civilization, had its

successive periods of origin, foundation, and development, stretching

over a wide space, of which the twelfth century formed the middle

line. Previous to that epoch, the various elements were disengaging

themselves, and entering into a higher, as well as more practical

amalgamation, which was destined rapidly to achieve the widest possible

good.

The early fathers of the Greek church went deeply into the current of

oriental speculation, and they are worthy of special research, since

so many golden grains of philosophy may be picked up in that sacred

stream. It has already been shown, that by a range of imaginative

reasoning, which soared far above the world of sense and outward

experience, Plato sought a return to the supreme Godhead, infinitely

exalted above all nature, deriving his chief proofs from immediate

intuition and primeval revelation, or profound internal reminiscence.

This fundamental tenet of the prior existence of the human soul

was closely allied to the Indian doctrine of the metempsychosis,

and, regarded in a literal sense, must be equally rejected by true

Christian philosophy. But if we are to consider this Platonic notion

of reminiscence under a more spiritual view, as the resuscitation of

the consciousness of the divine image implanted in our souls, or the

soul's perception of that image, this theory would then coincide with

evangelical doctrine, and we ought not to wonder that this Platonic

mode of thinking became the first great philosophy of revelation which

was fashioned and promulgated in a mediæval form. It was most adapted

to captivate the profoundest Christian thinkers, and pour a sweet

solace into their aspiring hearts; hence, the prevalency of this system

in the schools, until the end of the twelfth, and the beginning of

the thirteenth century. Many leading minds even believed that they

discovered in it the types of their own religious views. The symbolical

fancies of Timæus respecting physical phenomena, were taken up with

spirit, and erroneous ideas respecting the laws of creation long

prevailed, although the mathematicians of Alexandria had demonstrated

their fallacies. Nevertheless, under various forms, the echo of

Platonism was propagated from Augustin to Alcuin, far into the middle

ages.

The philosophy of Aristotle was based upon ample and substantial

logic, and from the beginning was a wonderful _organum_,

admirably adapted to the uses of scientific truth. His perspicacious,

piercing, and comprehensive intellect reduced all the historical

and philosophic principles of preceding ages and of his own time,

to the exactest system, and for twenty centuries he remained the

master-guide. Considered merely as an effort of unassisted reason,

the ethics of Aristotle have an extraordinary interest; but as a

scientific introduction to divine revelation, and in all important

moral questions, the Stagyrite is far from being so valuable a guide

as Plato. It was an ominous gift to western Europe, when the works

of Aristotle were brought from the East, translated into Arabic,

and thence turned again into Latin almost as obscure. The Christian

philosophers belonging to the first period of the middle ages, such

as Bernard and Abelard of France, Anselm, and Scotus Erigena, the

cotemporary of Alfred of England, were incomparably more luminous

and forcible than the schoolmen of succeeding times, being much more

free from idle logic and empty subtleties. Apparently, it would

have been much better if the powerful emperors and potentates who

patronized science had brought away with them, from the Latin empire

at Constantinople, those philological treasures which there abounded,

instead of fostering a universal and irresistible rage for the most

metaphysical of authors, and whom it was quite impossible for them

to comprehend. But the strange proceeding was overruled for the

greatest benefit. The whole foundation of the scholastic philosophy

was doubtless thoroughly false, and inflicted great injury, not only

on theology, but on the whole range of mediæval thought. But when

the evil became most formidable, a mighty service was rendered to

mankind, when acute and sagacious men like Thomas Aquinas, endowed

with exalted philosophical talents, adopted the old Aristotelian

rationalism, and founded thereon a system in which they attempted to

reconcile philosophy with faith, and thus avert from their age the

dangerous consequences of false dialectics. This, however, was no true

reconciliation, and the rationalism of the middle age afterward broke

into a violent collision with the divine doctrines to which it had

been unnaturally allied. But before this extreme was arrived at, the

resuscitation of a nobler rationalism began, and gradually obtained

the mastery over leading minds, producing a radical change in the

whole spirit of literature and science. Philosophy passed through

a very important renovation, and its profoundest votaries began to

set themselves wholly free from the authority of Aristotle in his

own department, and proceeded to the unfettered investigation of the

deepest and most solemn problems. Their main purpose, indeed, was, as

one of them declared, to compare the tenets of former teachers with the

original handwriting of God, the world and nature.

The now almost forgotten contest between the _Realists_ and

_Nominalists_ of the middle ages, exercised a decided influence

upon the final establishment of the experimental sciences. These were

the two philosophic schools which labored respectively to bridge the

apparently impassable "gap between thought and actual existence,

and the relations between the mind which discerns, and the objects

which are discerned." According to Humboldt, "The Nominalists, who

only admitted a subjective existence to belong to general ideas in

the imagination of man, after many oscillations, ultimately in the

fourteenth and fifteenth centuries became the victorious party. From

that great aversion to mere abstractions, they first arrived at the

necessity of experience, and of increasing the physical basis of

knowledge. This direction of their ideas had, at any rate, a secondary

influence upon empirical natural science; but even while the views

of the Realists still prevailed, the acquaintance with the Arabian

literature had diffused a love for Nature's works, in happy contrast

with the study of theology, which otherwise absorbed every thing.

Thus we see, that in the different periods of the Middle Ages, to

which we have been perhaps accustomed to attribute too great a unity

of character, in very different courses, namely, in the ideal and the

experimental way, the great work of distant discoveries, and the

possibility of their being of avail in the extension of the general

ideas of the earth, were gradually advanced."

The Arabians cultivated philosophy with characteristic ardor, and

founded upon it the fame of many ingenious and erudite men. Al-Farabi,

in Transoxiana, died in 950. It is affirmed that he spoke seventy

languages, wrote upon all the sciences, and collected them into an

encyclopædia. Al-Gazeli of Thous, who submitted religion to the test

of philosophy, died in 1111. Avicenna, from the vicinity of Chyraz,

who died in 1037, was a profound philosopher, as well as a celebrated

physician. Averrhoes of Cordova, was the most erudite commentator on

the works of Aristotle, and died in 1198. The system of the great

Macedonian metaphysician was well fitted to the mathematical genius of

the Arabians, and they worshiped him as a sort of divinity. According

to their belief, all philosophy was to be found in his writings, and

they explained every problem according to his arbitrary rules. In

the preceding chapter, we have seen with what success the Arabians

cultivated all the sciences; and let us here add that, while of all

their studies, philosophy was the one in particular which penetrated

most rapidly into the West, and had the greatest influence in the

schools of Europe, it was the one, in fact, the progress of which

was the least real. The ardent sons of Shem were more ingenious than

profound, more abstract than practical, and attached themselves rather

to the subtleties of fancy than to the substantial ideas of reason.

They possessed many qualities which enabled them to dazzle, but few

attributes of a character adapted to instruct. More enthusiastic than

enterprising, they were willing to place themselves under the supreme

dictation of another, rather than to feed their own minds at the

original sources of knowledge. They gathered up much that had been

produced by their superiors in the East, and brought it forward as the

nourishment of still nobler races destined to succeed them; but they

produced little that was native to themselves, especially in the realm

of philosophy, and now exert absolutely no influence on western mind.

The human spirit was not less active and indomitable in the middle

age than at earlier periods; and although it was placed under the

severest religious restrictions, it still sought to render to itself

an account of its speculative belief. The more methodical system of

instruction which originated in the cloisters, and ascended thence to

the universities, gave rise to diversified sects, whose impassioned

conflicts occasioned increased liberty of disquisition. For a long time

the scholastic philosophy was exercised in a circle it did not itself

trace, and which it dared not pass; but meanwhile it was approaching

emancipation, and grew finally into a bolder strength and traversed

broader realms. Still it was not thought in that exact form and

absolute freedom which should characterize philosophy, and the pedantic

system therefore ended with the age it was created to serve.

The scholasticism which was so marked a peculiarity of the age of Leo

X., was the labor of intellect in the service of faith, and we know

its starting point, its progress, and its end. It arose with the new

society of that formative era, and arrived at perfect dominion after

having been delivered from all the ruins of the ancient civilization,

when the soil of Europe had become more firm and capable of receiving

the foundations upon which a nobler and broader social compact might

arise. Charlemagne, who with one hand arrested the Saracens in the

South, and with the other resisted the barbarians of the North, became

the type and leader of western civilization in the dawn of the third

great period; and, succeeded by Charles the Bald and Alfred the Great,

carefully fanned the sparks of ancient culture, in order to rekindle

the flame of progressive science. It was he who first opened the

schools, and originated scholasticism. As the Mysteries of olden times

had been the primary source of Greek philosophy, so the convents of the

eighth century were the cradle of the ethical systems we still possess

and desire to improve.

Scholasticism commenced in the absolute submission of philosophy to

theology, advanced to the separation of these two spheres of mental

exercise, and culminated in the entire independence of thought. The

first epoch comprised, with the inspired Scriptures, the Christian

fathers generally, and especially those of the Latin church, of whom

Augustine was the chief. The little knowledge in this department that

had escaped barbarism was then principally contained in the meagre

writings of Boethius, born in 470, and senator of Theodoric; of

Capella, born at Madaura, in Africa, about 474; of Mamert, at Vienna,

who died in the year 477; of Cassiodorus, who flourished in the

first half of the sixth century; of the Venerable Bede, who opened

the chief sources of British civilization at the end of the seventh

century; and of that other Anglo-Saxon, Alcuin, born at York, 726,

and whom Charlemagne placed on the heights of mediæval culture, at

the head of the regeneration of mind at large. John Scot, or Johannes

Scotus Erigena, as he was called because an Irishman, lived long at

the court of Charles the Bald, and afterward returned to England at

the invitation of Alfred the Great, to teach at Oxford, where he died

in 886, expressed the great text of his cotemporaries which they all

labored to expound and exemplify: "There are not two studies, one

of philosophy, and the other of religion; true philosophy is true

religion, and true religion is true philosophy."

Anselm, born in Piedmont in 1034, Prior of Bec in Normandy, and,

at the time of his death, Archbishop of Canterbury, was the true

metaphysician of this epoch. He was called the second Saint Augustine,

and his writings achieved a remarkable progress. To him is accredited

the argument, which draws from the idea alone of an absolute maximum

of greatness, of beauty, and of goodness, the demonstration of the

existence of its object, which can be only God. This was doubtless

inspired by the genius of Christian idealism, and was so effectively

elaborated by Saint Anselm that it is supposed to have extended its

influence even down to Leibnitz and Descartes.

Another beautiful classic spirit, who struggled and triumphed in the

midst of mediæval gloom was Abelard. Born near Nantes, in 1079, and

having acquired all the strength that could be furnished by provincial

knowledge, he went to Paris, where from a pupil he soon became a

rival of the most renowned masters, and thenceforth for a long time

in dialectics ruled supreme. He attracted such multitudes of scholars

from all parts of Europe, that, as himself said, the hotels were

neither sufficient to contain them, nor the ground to nourish them. He

moved the church and the state, eclipsed Roscellinus and Champeaux,

having Arnold of Brescia among his friendly disciples, and a powerful

adversary in the great Bernard. We are told that this "Bossuet of the

twelfth century" was handsome, was a poet, and musician. He wrote songs

which amused the refined, gave lectures which absorbed the profound,

and both as canon and professor, was regarded with the most absolute

devotion by that noble creature, Heloise, who loved like Theresa the

saint. As a hero who was active to reform abuses and wise to enlighten

barbarism, the chief of an advancing school, and the martyr of exalted

opinions, Abelard was indeed an extraordinary personage.

Nominalism and Realism found a new competitor on the philosophic

stage when the advanced and victorious system of Conceptualism was

established by Abelard. Of this school, John of Salisbury was an

enlightened and polished disciple. To him and his co-laborer in the

same faith and age, Peter Lombard, succeeded the three great masters

who represented the succeeding epoch. Albert the Great, born in

Suabia, was by turns professor at Cologne and Paris. In 1260 he was

bishop of Ratisbon, but soon withdrew from that post to devote himself

exclusively to his philosophical pursuits at Cologne, where he died in

1280. Thomas Aquinas was of a rich and illustrious family, who wished

to give him a good position in the world. But he declined all secular

honors, and became a Dominican, that he might devote himself entirely

to philosophy. He is said to have been an incomparable teacher, and

was called the Angel of the School. His birth occurred near Naples, in

1225; he studied under Albert, both at Cologne and Paris, died in 1274,

and was canonized in 1323. He was not so scientific as his master,

nor so mystical as his compatriot, Bonaventura. He could not dream

of modern equality; but, as a Christian philosopher he recommended

humanity toward the persecuted, and exemplified the high morality he

taught. The English Duns Scotus, born at Dunston, in Northumberland,

according to others at Duns, in Ireland, near 1275, possessed a mind

of uncommon firmness and powerful action. Physics and mathematics

were his forte, while more spiritual themes won the preference and

exercised the skill of Albert and Thomas. Cotemporaries named the first

the seraphic Doctor, and the second the angelic Doctor, but the third

was characterized by another epithet more descriptive of his genius,

namely, the subtile, Doctor subtilis.

Roger Bacon, born in 1214, and whose great scientific capacities were

alluded to in the preceding chapter, was a man who stood alone in the

thirteenth century on account of his linguistic skill and attainments

in philosophy. The poor persecuted Franciscan was three centuries

in advance of his age, but, despite all difficulties, he did much

to promote a movement of mental independence which, soon after his

death made itself rapidly manifest. The separation of philosophy from

theology began to be perfected, and the destruction of scholasticism

was thus secured. Roscelin, a canon of Compiègne, did not a little

toward the attainment of this end, but much more was accomplished by

an English pupil of Duns Scotus, at the commencement of the fourteenth

century. He was named John Occam, born in the county of Surrey, and

is often called simply Occam. He was a successful teacher at Paris,

under Philip le Bel, at the epoch when the political powers strove to

emancipate themselves from the ecclesiastical power. The monk sided

with the sovereign, and wrote against the pretensions of pope Boniface

VIII. Afterward he said to the emperor Louis of Bavaria, "Defend me

with the sword, and I will defend you with the pen," and in like manner

resisted pope John XXII. A man so bold in politics could not have been

timid in philosophy, and his persevering courage procured him the name

of Doctor invincibilis. The spirit of independence was everywhere

aroused under the auspices of Occam, so that the old schools were

quickened, and new masters were produced. Walter Burleigh flourished

about 1337, and wrote commentaries on Aristotle, Porphyry, etc., while

professor at Paris and Oxford. He was author of the first history of

philosophy written in the middle age. Marsile of Inghen, founder of the

university of Heidelberg, died in 1394. Thomas of Strasburg, author

of a Commentary on The Master of Sentences, died in 1357. Thomas of

Bradwardin, Archbishop of Canterbury, was not only a mathematician of

uncommon power, but a great proficient in the more literary departments

of high philosophy. He died in 1439.

In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, after the heated conflicts

between nominalism and realism, another species of philosophy,

mysticism, separated itself from all other systems, acquired

consciousness of itself, exposed its own theory, and by its own name

was called. Near the close of his life, Petrarch abandoned literary

pursuits, in order to devote himself to contemplative philosophy, was

a mystic in belief, and died in 1374. Most of the remarkable men of

this epoch were disciples of the same transcendental faith. Such were

John Tauler, the celebrated preacher at Cologne, and the still more

illustrious author of the "Imitation of Jesus Christ." Whether that

work belongs to Gerson, or to Thomas à Kempis, it may be regarded as

the most perfect reflection of philosophy in those foreboding times,

when the thoughtful, oppressed with doubt, aspired after relief through

reliance on the mercy of God. Scholasticism ceased at the beginning of

the fifteenth century, and was succeeded by mysticism, which continued

till the opening of the seventeenth century, when modern philosophy,

properly so called, began, and is now molding a grander philosophic

age. The mystical polemics which brought all learning to a low ebb at

the epoch of the decline of ancient literature, long lurked faintly

among the cloisters, by the dim lamp of dreaming solitaries, to whom

true science was an unfathomable ocean, of which they vainly strove

to sound the depths, while their only object should have been to sail

across it. But their dogmatical fixedness was overruled for good, since

all the great elements of speculative thought were thus conserved, and

progressive philosophy, nevertheless, like its type and hero, through

night and tempest westward took its course.

The interior of the cathedral at Florence, so imposing from its dim

light and great extent, is full of that local interest which connects

itself with a mausoleum of greatness and museum of art. Upon the north

wall is a portrait of Dantè, and behind the choir is an unfinished

Pieta by Michael Angelo, whose fervid and impatient genius designed

so much more than it could possibly execute. Under the crowning glory

of the dome, that masterpiece and model of renaissant architecture,

lie the remains of Giotto and Brunelleschi, in spots marked by

commemorative busts; and the same honor is paid to the remains of

Facino, the great restorer of the Platonic philosophy. It was this

erudite scholar who, at the revival of learning, procured the printing

of Plato, performed the same service for the illustrious leaders of

the later school, and illustrated his edition of the great master with

many commentaries, in which he showed himself an equal adept in the

mysteries of Plotinus and Porphyry, as in the sense of Plato. In order

to give additional zest to the study of Platonism, Lorenzo and his

friends formed the intention of renewing, with extraordinary pomp, the

solemn annual feasts to the memory of the great philosopher, which had

been celebrated from the time of his death to that of his disciples,

Plotinus and Porphyrius, but had been discontinued for twelve hundred

years. The day fixed on for this purpose was the 7th of November, the

supposed anniversary of both the birth and death of Plato. Francesco

Bandini, eminent for rank and learning, was fixed on by Lorenzo to

preside over this ceremony at Florence. On the same day another party

met at Lorenzo's villa at Careggi, where he presided in person. The

new academy of Platonists, in the fifteenth century, embraced a large

number of the most eminent men, the greatest part of whom were natives

of Florence, a fact that may give us some idea of the surprising

attention which was then paid to philosophy, as well as to art,

science, and literary pursuits. In this respect, the birthplace of Leo

X., and the great mental centre of his age stands unrivaled; a species

of praise as indisputable as it is well-deserved.

We have seen that the capacious mind of Aristotle absorbed the whole

existing philosophy of his age, and that it was reproduced, digested,

and transmitted, in a form still preserved, and of which the spirit

early penetrated into the inmost recesses of mediæval mind. Translated

in the fifth century into Syriac, and thence into Arabic, four hundred

years later, his writings furnished the Mohammedan conquerors of the

East with the germs of science which they bore so opportunely to the

West, and thus extended the empire of an exacter philosophy from Bagdad

to Cordova, from Egypt to Britain's occidental shore.

Platonism took deep root in Germany, and was the favorite of the ablest

philosophers; and whether the mystic Reuchlin, or the mathematical

Leibnitz, or the recondite Kant, elaborated their respective theories,

they equally acknowledged the great Greek master to be the one model of

their admiration. Sydenham, Spens, and Taylor, translated him in the

bosom of the English race; and among the British admirers of Plato,

besides the cabalists Gale and More, and the eloquent pupil of the

Alexandrian school, Cudworth, were many of the ablest philosophers and

poets. Not to anticipate the new age, on the border of which shone

the Platonic minds of Milton and Gray, we allude to Berkeley, whose

enthusiastic esteem is well known, and to Bacon, who never speaks

of the political or moral works of Plato without marked respect.

The mighty architects of the age to come, best understood the worth

of those foundations on which they built, and with a noble sadness

sometimes bemoaned the obscurity which progress necessarily throws upon

the superseded past.

In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, philosophy appeared to

have but one home, Italy; but in the seventeenth century, all Europe

became the field of its culture, and the richest fruits were ripened

by the setting sun. At earlier periods, inventive mind had scarcely

any means of expression, save a single language, and that a dead

one; but in the seventeenth century the Latin became the exception,

and philosophy began to use national tongues, which it enriched and

reformed. At the moment a new world was opened to the sublimest

advance, philosophy admitted to its service only living languages, full

of the future, and which placed it in direct communication with the

masses. Thus it accumulated its resources, concentrated its influence,

and pressed forward in its majestic career, promising soon to become an

independent, universal, and popular power.

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