CHAPTER IX

CHRISTENDOM IN THE MIDDLE AGES

It would be an error, in view of the biological generalization

proceeded on and the facts noted in this inquiry, to suppose that

even in the Dark Ages, so called, [1194] the spirit of critical

reason was wholly absent from the life of Christendom. It had simply

grown very rare, and was the more discountenanced where it strove

to speak. But the most systematic suppression of heresies could

not secure that no private heresy should remain. As Voltaire has

remarked, there was "nearly always a small flock separated from the

great." [1195] Apart too from such quasi-rationalism as was involved

in semi-Pelagianism, [1196] critical heresy chronically arose even

in the Byzantine provinces, which by the curtailment of the Empire

had been left the most homogeneous and therefore the most manageable

of the Christian States. It is necessary to note those survivals of

partial freethinking, when we would trace the rise of modern thought.

§ 1. HERESY IN BYZANTIUM

It was probably from some indirect influence of the new anti-idolatrous

religion of Islam that in the eighth century the soldier-emperor,

Leo the Isaurian, known as the Iconoclast, derived his aversion

to the image-worship [1197] which had long been as general in

the Christian world as ever under polytheism. So gross had the

superstition become that particular images were frequently selected

as god-parents; of others the paint was partly scratched off to be

mixed with the sacramental wine; and the bread was solemnly put in

contact with them. [1198] Leo began (726) by an edict simply causing

the images to be placed so high that they could not be kissed, but

on being met with resistance and rebellion he ordered their total

removal (730). One view is that he saw image-worship to be the

main hindrance to the spread of the faith among Jews and Moslems,

and took his measures accordingly. [1199] Save on this one point he

was an orthodox Christian and Trinitarian, and his long effort to

put down images and pictures was in itself rather fanatical [1200]

than rationalistic, though a measure of freethinking was developed

among the religious party he created. [1201] Of this spirit, as

well as of the aversion to image-worship, [1202] something must

have survived the official restoration of idolatry; but the traces

are few. The most zealous iconoclasts seem never to have risen above

the flat inconsistency of treating the cross and the written gospels

with exactly the same adoration that their opponents paid to images;

[1203] and their appeal to the scriptures--which was their first and

last argument--was accordingly met by the retort that they themselves

accepted the authority of tradition, as did the image-worshippers. The

remarkable hostility of the army to the latter is to be explained,

apparently, by the local bias of the eastern regions from which the

soldiers were mainly recruited.

In the ninth century, when Saracen rivalry had stung the Byzantines

into some partial revival of culture and science, [1204] the

all-learned Patriarch Photius (c. 820-891), who reluctantly accepted

ecclesiastical office, earned a dangerous repute for freethinking

by declaring from the pulpit that earthquakes were produced by

earthly causes and not by divine wrath. [1205] But this was an

almost solitary gleam of reason in a generation wholly given up to

furious strife over the worship of images, and Photius was one of

the image-worshippers. The battle swung from extreme to extreme. The

emperor Michael II, "the Stammerer" (820-828), held a medium position,

and accordingly acquired the repute of a freethinker. A general under

Leo V, "the Armenian," he had conspired against him, and when on the

verge of execution had been raised to the throne in place of Leo, who

was assassinated at the altar. The new emperor aimed above all things

at peace and quietness; but his methods were thoroughly Byzantine,

and included the castration of the four sons of Leo. Michael himself

is said to have doubted the future resurrection of men, to have

maintained that Judas was saved, and to have doubted the existence

of Satan because he is not named in the Pentateuch [1206]--a species

of freethinking not far removed from that of the Iconoclasts, whose

grounds were merely Biblical. A generation later came Michael IV, "the

Sot," bred a wastrel under the guardianship of his mother, Theodora

(who in 842 restored image-worship and persecuted the Paulicians),

and her brother Bardas, who ultimately put her in a convent. Michael,

repeatedly defeated by the Saracens, long held his own at home. Taking

into favour Basil, who married his (Michael's) mistress, he murdered

Bardas, and a year later (867) was about to murder Basil in turn,

when the latter anticipated him, murdered the emperor, and assumed the

purple. It was under Basil, who put down the Iconoclasts, that Photius,

after formally deposing and being deposed by the Pope of Rome (864-66)

was really deposed and banished (868), to be restored to favour and

office ten years later. In 886, on the death of Basil, he was again

deposed, dying about 891. In that kaleidoscope of plot and faction,

fanaticism and crime, there is small trace of sane thinking. Michael

IV, in his disreputable way, was something of a freethinker, and

could even with impunity burlesque the religious processions of

the clergy, [1207] the orthodox populace joining in the laugh;

but there was no such culture at Constantinople as could develop

a sober rationalism, or sustain it against the clergy if it showed

its head. Intelligence in general could not rise above the plane of

the wrangle over images. While the struggle lasted, it was marked by

all the ferocity that belonged from the outset to Christian strifes;

and in the end, as usual, the more irrational bias triumphed.

It was in a sect whose doctrine at one point coincided with iconoclasm

that there were preserved such rude seeds of oriental rationalism

as could survive the rule of the Byzantine emperors, and carry the

stimulus of heresy to the west. The rise of the Paulicians in Armenia

dates from the seventh century, and was nominally by way of setting

up a creed on the lines of Paul as against the paganized system of the

Church. Rising as they did on the borders of Persia, they were probably

affected from the first by Mazdean influences, as the dualistic

principle was always affirmed by their virtual founder, Constantine,

afterwards known as Sylvanus. [1208] Their original tenets seem to have

been anti-Manichean, anti-Gnostic (though partly Marcionite), opposed

to the worship of images and relics, to sacraments, to the adoration

of the Virgin, of saints, and of angels, and to the acceptance of the

Old Testament; and in an age in which the reading of the Sacred Books

had already come to be regarded as a privilege of monks and priests,

they insisted on reading the New Testament for themselves. [1209]

In this they were virtually founding on the old pagan conception

of religion, under which all heads of families could offer worship

and sacrifice without the intervention of a priest, as against the

Judæo-Christian sacerdotalism, which vetoed anything like a private

cultus. In the teaching of Sylvanus, further, there were distinct

Manichean and Gnostic characteristics--notably, hostility to Judaism;

the denial that Christ had a real human body, capable of suffering; and

the doctrine that baptism and the communion were properly spiritual and

not physical rites. [1210] In the ninth century, when they had become

a powerful and militant sect, often at war with the empire, they were

still marked by their refusal to make any difference between priests

and laymen. Anti-ecclesiasticism was thus a main feature of the whole

movement; and the Byzantine Government, recognizing in its doctrine

a particularly dangerous heresy, had at once bloodily attacked it,

causing Sylvanus to be stoned to death. [1211] Still it grew, even

to the length of exhibiting the usual phenomena of schism within

itself. One section obtained the protection of the first iconoclastic

emperor, who agreed with them on the subject of images; and a later

leader, Sergius or Tychicus, won similar favour from Nicephorus I;

but Leo the Armenian (suc. 813), fearing the stigma of their other

heresies, and having already trouble enough from his iconoclasm,

set up against them, as against the image-worshippers, a new and

cruel persecution. [1212] They were thus driven over to the Saracens,

whose advance-guard they became as against the Christian State; but the

iconoclast Constantine Copronymus sympathetically [1213] transplanted

many of them to Constantinople and Thrace, thus introducing their

doctrine into Europe. The Empress Theodora (841-855), who restored

image-worship, [1214] sought to exterminate those left in Armenia,

slaying, it is said, a hundred thousand. [1215] Many of the remnant

were thus forced into the arms of the Saracens; and the sect did the

empire desperate mischief during many generations. [1216]

Meantime those planted in Thrace, in concert with the main body,

carried propaganda into Bulgaria, and these again were further

reinforced by refugees from Armenia in the ninth century, and in the

tenth by a fresh colony transplanted from Armenia by the emperor

John Zimisces, who valued them as a bulwark against the barbarous

Slavs. [1217] Fresh persecution under Alexius I at the end of the

eleventh century failed to suppress them; and imperial extortion

constantly drove to their side numbers of fresh adherents, [1218]

while the Bulgarians for similar reasons tended in mass to adopt

their creed as against that of Constantinople. So greatly did the

cult flourish that at its height it had a regular hierarchy, notably

recalling that of the early Manicheans--with a pope, twelve magistri,

and seventy-two bishops, each of whom had a filius major and filius

minor as his assistants. Withal the democratic element remained strong,

the laying on of the hands of communicants on the heads of newcomers

being part of the rite of reception into full membership. Thus it

came about that from Bulgaria there passed into western Europe, [1219]

partly through the Slavonic sect called Bogomiles or Bogomilians [1220]

(= Theophiloi, "lovers of God"), who were akin to the Paulicians,

partly by more general influences, [1221] a contagion of democratic

and anti-ecclesiastical heresy; so that the very name Bulgar became

the French bougre = heretic--and worse. [1222] It specified the most

obvious source of the new anti-Romanist heresies of the Albigenses,

if not of the Vaudois (Waldenses).

§ 2. CRITICAL HERESY IN THE WEST

In the west, meanwhile, where the variety of social elements was

favourable to new life, heresy of a rationalistic kind was not wholly

lacking. About the middle of the eighth century we find one Feargal

or Vergilius, an Irish priest in Bavaria, accused by St. Boniface,

his enemy, of affirming, "in defiance of God and his own soul,"

the doctrine of the antipodes, [1223] which must have reached him

through the ancient Greek lore carried to Ireland in the primary

period of Christianization of that province. Of that influence we

have already seen a trace in Pelagius and Coelestius; and we shall

see more later in John the Scot. After being deposed by the Pope,

Vergilius was reinstated; was made Bishop of Salzburg, and held the

post till his death; and was even sainted afterwards; but the doctrine

disappeared for centuries from the Christian world.

Other heresies, however, asserted themselves. Though image-worship

finally triumphed there as in the east, it had strong opponents,

notably Claudius, bishop of Turin (fl. 830) under the emperor Louis

the Pious, son of Charlemagne, and his contemporary Agobard, bishop

of Lyons. [1224] It is a significant fact that both men were born

in Spain; and either to Saracen or to Jewish influence--the latter

being then strong in the Moorish and even in the Christian [1225]

world--may fairly be in part attributed their marked bias against

image-worship. Claudius was slightly and Agobard well educated in

Latin letters, so that an early impression [1226] would seem to have

been at work in both cases. However that may be, they stood out as

singularly rationalistic theologians in an age of general ignorance

and superstition. Claudius vehemently resisted alike image-worship,

saint-worship, and the Papal claims, and is recorded to have termed a

council of bishops which condemned him "an assembly of asses." [1227]

Agobard, in turn, is quite extraordinary in the thoroughness of his

rejection of popular superstition, being not only an iconoclast but an

enemy to prayer for change in the weather, to belief in incantations

and the power of evil spirits, to the ordeal by fire, to the wager

of battle, [1228] and to the belief in the verbal inspiration of the

Sacred Books. In an age of enormous superstition and deep ignorance,

he maintained within the Church that Reason was the noble gift of

God. [1229] He was a rationalist born out of due time. [1230]

A grain of rationalism, as apart from professional self-interest,

may also have entered into the outcry made at this period by the

clergy against the rigidly predestinarian doctrine of the monk

Gottschalk. [1231] His enemy, Rabanus or Hrabanus (called "the

Moor"), seems again to represent some Saracen influence, inasmuch

as he reproduced the scientific lore of Isidore of Seville. [1232]

But the philosophic semi-rationalism of John Scotus (d. 875), later

known as Erigena (John the Scot = of Ireland--the original "Scots"

being Irish), seems to be traceable to the Greek studies which had

been cherished in Christianized Ireland while the rest of western

Europe lost them, and represents at once the imperfect beginning

of the relatively rationalistic philosophy of Nominalism [1233] and

the first western revival of the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle,

howbeit by way of accommodation to the doctrine of the Church. [1234]

That John the Scot was an Irishman remains practically certain,

even if we give up the term "Erigena," which, as has been shown by

Floss, the most careful editor of his works, is not found in the

oldest MSS. The reading there is Ierugena, which later shades into

Erugena and Eriugena. (Cp. Ueberweg, i, 359; Poole, pp. 55-56,

note; Dr. Th. Christlieb, Leben und Lehre des Johannes Scotus

Erigena, 1860, p. 14 sq.; and Huber, Johannes Scotus Erigena:

ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie im

Mittelalter, 1861, pp. 38-40.) From this elusive cognomen no

certain inference can be drawn, too many being open; though the

fact that John had himself coined the term Graiugena for a late

Greek writer makes it likely that he called himself Ierugena in

the sense of "born in the holy (island)" = Ireland. But the name

Scotus, occurring without the Ierugena, is common in old MSS.;

and it is almost impossible that any save a Scot of Ireland should

have possessed the scholarship of John in the ninth century. In

the west, Greek scholarship and philosophy had been special to

Ireland from the time of Pelagius; and it is from Greek sources

that John draws his inspiration and cast of thought. M. Taillandier

not unjustly calls the Ireland of that era "l'île des saints,

mais aussi l'île des libres penseurs." (Scot Érigène et la

philosophie scolastique, 1843, p. 64.) To the same effect Huber,

pp. 40-41. In writing that Johannes "was of Scottish nationality,

but was probably born and brought up in Ireland," Ueberweg (i,

358) obscures the fact that the people of Ireland were the Scoti

of that period. All the testimony goes to show "that Ireland

was called Scotia, and its ruling people Scoti, from the first

appearance of these names down to the eleventh century. But that

[the] present Scotland was called Scotia, or its people Scoti,

before the eleventh century, not so much as one single authority

can be produced" (Pinkerton, Enquiry into the History of Scotland,

1789, ii, 237). Irish Scots gave their name to Scotland, and it

was adopted by the Teutonic settlers.

While the land of John the Scot's birth is thus fairly certain, the

place of his death remains a mystery. Out of a statement by Asser

that King Alfred made one John, a priest, Abbot of Athelney, and

that the said Abbot was murdered at the altar by hired assassins,

there grew a later story that Alfred made John the Scot Abbot of

Malmesbury, and that he was slain with the styli of two of his

pupils. It is clear that the John of Asser was an "Old Saxon,"

and not the philosopher; and it is difficult to doubt that the

second story, which arises in the twelfth century, is a hearsay

distortion of the first. Cp. Christlieb, who argues (p. 42 sq.) for

two Johns, one of them Scotus, and both assassinated, with Huber,

who sets forth (p. 108 sq.) the view here followed. There is really

no adequate ground for believing that John the Scot was ever a

priest. We know not where or when he died; but the presumption

is that it was in France, and not long after the death of his

patron Charles--877. (Huber, p. 121.)

Called in by Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims, himself a normally

superstitious believer, [1235] to answer Gottschalk, John Scotus in

turn was accused of heresy, as he well might be on many points of his

treatise, De Praedestinatione [1236] (851). He fiercely and not very

fairly condemned Gottschalk as a heretic, charging him with denying

both divine grace and freewill, but without disposing of Gottschalk's

positive grounds; and arguing that God could not be the cause of sin,

as if Gottschalk had not said the same thing. His superior speculative

power comes out in his undertaking to show that for the Divine Being

sin is non-ens; and that therefore that Being cannot properly be said

either to foreknow or to predestinate, or to punish. But the argument

becomes inconsistent inasmuch as it further affirms Deity to have

so constituted the order of things that sin punishes itself. [1237]

It is evident that in assimilating his pantheistic conceptions he

had failed to think out their incompatibility with any theistic

dogma whatever; his reasoning, on the whole, being no more coherent

than Gottschalk's. He had in fact set out from an arbitrary theistic

position that was at once Judaic, Christian, and Platonic, and went

back on one line to the Gnostics; while on another his argument

that sin has no real existence is a variant from an old thesis--made

current, as we saw, by Euclides of Megara--with which orthodoxy had

met the Manicheans. [1238] But to the abstract doctrine he gave a new

practical point by declaring that the doctrine of hell-fire was a mere

allegory; that heaven and hell alike were states of consciousness,

not places. [1239] And if such concrete freethinking were not enough

to infuriate the orthodox, they had from him the most explicit

declarations that authority is derivable solely from reason. [1240]

In philosophy proper he must be credited, despite his inconsistency,

with deep and original thought. [1241] Like every theologian of

philosophic capacity before and since, he passes into pantheism

as soon as he grapples closely with the difficulties of theism,

and "the expressions which he uses are identical with those which

were afterwards employed by Spinoza.... It was a tradition of the

fourth or fifth century transferred to the ninth, an echo from

Alexandria." [1242] Condemned by Pope Nicholas I and by two Church

Councils, [1243] his writings none the less availed to keep that echo

audible to later centuries.

The range and vigour of his practical rationalism may be gathered from

his attitude in the controversy begun by the abbot Paschasius Radbert

(831) on the nature of the Eucharist. Paschasius taught that there was

a real transformation of the bread and wine into the divine body and

blood; and the doctrine, thus nakedly put, startled the freer scholars

of the time, who were not yet habituated to Latin orthodoxy. Another

learned monk, Ratramnus, who had written a treatise on predestination

at the request of the rationalizing emperor, Charles the Bald

(discussing the problem in Gottschalk's sense [1244] without naming

him), produced on the same monarch's invitation a treatise in which

transubstantiation was denied, and the "real presence" was declared

to be spiritual [1245]--a view already known to Paschasius as being

held by some. [1246] John Scotus, also asked by the emperor to write

on the subject, went so far as to argue that the bread and wine were

merely symbols and memorials. [1247] As usual, the irrational doctrine

became that of the Church; [1248] but the other must have wrought for

reason in secret. For the rest, he set forth the old "modal" view of

the Trinity, resolving it into the different conceptual aspects of

the universe, and thus propounding one more vital heresy. [1249]

Nothing but a succession of rationalizing emperors could have secured

continuance for such teaching as that of Ratramnus and John the

Scot. For a time, the cruelty meted out to Gottschalk kept up feeling

in favour of his views; Bishop Remigius of Lyons condemned Hincmar's

treatment of him; and others sought to maintain his positions, with

modifications, though Hincmar carried resolutions condemning them at

the second Synod of Chiersy. On the other hand, Archbishop Wenilo of

Sens, Bishop Prudentius of Troyes, and Florus, a deacon of Lyons,

all wrote against the doctrines of John the Scot; and the second

Synod of Valence (855), while opposing Hincmar and affirming duplex

predestination, denounced with fury the reasonings of John the Scot,

ascribing them to his nation as a whole. [1250] The pope taking the

same line, the fortunes of the rationalistic view of the eucharist and

of hell-fire were soon determined for the Middle Ages, though in the

year 950 we find the Archbishop of Canterbury confronted by English

ecclesiastics who asserted that there was no transubstantiation, the

elements being merely a figure of the body and blood of Christ. [1251]

The economic explanation clearly holds alike as regards the attack

on John and the condemnation of Gottschalk for a doctrine which had

actually been established for centuries, on the authority of Augustine,

as strict orthodoxy. In Augustine's time, the determining pressures

were not economic: a bankrupt world was seeking to explain its fate;

and Augustine had merely carried a majority with him against Pelagius,

partly by his personal influence, partly by force of the fatalist

mood of the time. But in the renascent world of Gottschalk's day the

economic exploitation of fear had been carried several stages forward

by the Church; and the question of predestination had a very direct

financial bearing. The northern peoples, accustomed to compound for

crimes by money payments, had so readily played into the hands of

the priesthood by their eagerness to buy surcease of purgatorial

pain that masses for the dead and "penitential certificates" were

main sources of ecclesiastical revenue. Therefore the condemnations

of such abuses passed by the Councils, on the urging of the more

thoughtful clergy, were constantly frustrated by the plain pecuniary

interest of the priests. [1252] It even appears that the eucharist

was popularly regarded not as a process of religious "communion,"

but as a magical rite objectively efficacious for bodily preservation

in this life and the next. Thus it came about that often "priests

presented the offering of the mass alone and by themselves, without

any participation of the congregation." [1253]

If then it were to be seriously understood that the future lot of

all was foreordained, all expenditure on masses for the dead, or to

secure in advance a lightening of purgatorial penance, or even to buy

off penance on earth, was so much waste; and the Teutons were still

as ready as other barbarians to make their transactions with Church,

God, and the saints a matter of explicit bargain. [1254] Gottschalk,

accordingly, had to be put down, in the general interests of the

Church. It could not truthfully be pretended that he deviated from

Augustine, for he actually held by the "semi-Pelagian" inconsistency

that God predestinates good, but merely foreknows evil. [1255]

There was in fact no clear opposition between his affirmations and

those of Rabanus Maurus, who also professed to be an Augustinian;

but the latter laid forensic stress on the "desire" of God that all

men should be saved, and on the formula that Christ died for all;

while Gottschalk, more honestly, insisted that predestination is

predestination, and applied the principle not merely, as had been

customary, to the future state of the good, but to that of the bad,

[1256] insisting on a prædestinatio duplex. His own fate was thus

economically predestinate; and he was actually tortured by the scourge

till he cast into the fire his written defence, "a document which

contained nothing but a compilation of testimonies from Scripture,

and from the older church-teachers." [1257]

Gottschalk later challenged a fourfold ordeal of "boiling water,

oil, and pitch." His primary doctrine had been the immutability

of the divine will; but he brought himself to the belief that

God would work a miracle in his favour. His conception of

"foreordination" was thus framed solely with regard to the

conception of a future state. The ordeal was not granted, the

orthodox party fearing to try conclusions, and he died without

the sacraments, rather than recant. Then began the second reaction

of feeling against his chief persecutor, Hincmar. Neander, vi, 190.

A recent writer, who handles very intelligently and temperately

the problem of persecution, urges that in that connection "one

ought not to lay great stress on the old argument of the Hallam

and Macaulay school as to the strength of vested interests, though

it has a certain historical importance, because the priest must

subsist somehow" (Religious Persecution: a Study in Psychology,

by E. S. P. Haynes, 1904, p. 4). If the "certain importance" be in

the ratio of the certainty of the last adduced fact, the legitimate

"stress" on the argument in question would seem sufficient for most

purposes. The writer adds the note: "It is not unfair, however,

to quote the case of Dr. Middleton, who, writing to Lord Radnor

in 1750 in respect of his famous work on Miracles, admits frankly

enough that he would never have given the clergy any trouble, had

he received some good appointment in the church." If the essayist

has met with no other historic fact illustrative of the play of

vested interests in ecclesiastical history, it is extremely candid

of him to mention that one. Later on, however, he commits himself

to the proposition that "the history of medieval persecution leads

one to infer that the clergy as a whole were roused to much greater

activity by menaces to their material comforts in this world than

by an altruistic anxiety for the fate of lay souls in the next"

(id. p. 60. Cp. p. 63). This amount of "stress" on vested interests

will probably satisfy most members of the Hallam and Macaulay

school; and is ample for the purposes of the present contention.

From this point onward, the slow movement of new ideas may for

a time be conveniently traced on two general lines--one that of

the philosophic discussion in the schools, reinforced by Saracen

influences, the other that of partially rationalistic and democratic

heresy among the common people, by way first of contagion from

the East. The latter was on the whole as influential for sane

thought as the former, apart from such ecclesiastical freethinking

as that of Berengar of Tours and Roscelin (Rousselin), Canon of

Compiègne. Berengar (c. 1050) was led by moral reflection [1258]

to doubt the priestly miracle of the Eucharist, and thenceforth he

entered into a stormy controversy on the subject, in the course of

which he twice recanted under bodily fear, but passionately returned

to his original positions. Fundamentally sincere, and indignantly

resentful of the gross superstition prevailing in the Church, he

struck fiercely in his writings at Popes Leo IX and Nicholas II and

Archbishop Lanfranc, [1259] all of whom had opposed him. At length,

after much strife, he threw up the contest, spending the latter part

of his long life in seclusion; Pope Gregory VII, who was personally

friendly to him, having finally shielded him from persecution. It

seems clear that, though accused, with others of his school, of

rejecting certain of the gospel miracles, [1260] he never became a

disbeliever; his very polemic testifying to the warmth of his belief

on his own lines. His teaching, however, which went far by reason of

the vividness of his style, doubtless had the effect of promoting not

only the rationalistic-Christian view of the Eucharist, [1261] but a

criticism which went further, inasmuch as his opponents forced on the

bystanders the question as to what reality there was in the Christian

creed if his view were true. [1262] All such influences, however, were

but slight in total mass compared with the overwhelming weight of the

economic interest of the priesthood; and not till the Reformation was

Berengar's doctrine accepted by a single organized sect. The orthodox

doctrine, in fact, was all-essential to the Catholic Church. Given the

daily miracle of the "real presence," the Church had a vital hold on

the Christian world, and the priest was above all lay rivalry. Seeing

as much, the Council of the Lateran (1059) met the new criticism by

establishing the technical doctrine of the real presence for the

first time as an article of faith; and as such it will doubtless

stand while there is a Catholic priesthood. Berengar's original view

must have been shared by thousands; but no Catholic carried on his

propaganda. The question had become one of life and death.

Berengar's forced prevarications, which are unsympathetically

set forth by Mosheim (11 Cent., pt. ii, ch. iii, §§ 13-18), are

made much more intelligible in the sympathetic survey of Neander

(vi, 225-60). See also the careful inquiry of Reuter, Gesch. der

religiösen Aufklärung im Mittelalter, i, 91 sq. As to Berengar's

writings, see further Murdock's note to Mosheim, last cit.,

§ 18. The formal compromise forced on him by Pope Hildebrand,

who was personally friendly to him, consisted in adding to his

denial of the change of the bread and wine into "body and blood"

the doctrine that the body and blood were "superadded to the bread

and wine in and by their consecration." This formula, of course,

did not represent the spirit of Berengar's polemic. As to the

disputes on the subject, which ran to the most unseemly length

of physiological detail, see Voltaire, Essai sur les Moeurs,

ch. xlv. It is noteworthy that Augustine had very expressly

set forth a metaphorical interpretation of the Eucharist--De

doctrina christiana, l. iii, c. 16. But just as the Church later

set aside the verdict of Thomas Aquinas that the Virgin Mary was

"born in sin," so did it reverse Augustine's judgment on the

Eucharist. Always the more irrational view carried the day,

as being more propitious to sacerdotal claims.

So far as the Church by her keenly self-regarding organization

could attain it, all opinion was kept within the strict bounds of her

official dogma, in which life in the Middle Ages so long stagnated. For

centuries, despite the turmoil of many wars--which, indeed, helped

to arrest thought--the life of the mind presented a uniformity hardly

now conceivable. The common expectation of the ending of the world, in

the year 1000, in particular had an immense prepotency of paralysing

men's spirits; and the grooves of habit thus fixed were hard to

alter. For most men, the notion of possible innovation in thought did

not exist: the usual was the sacred: the very ideal of an improvement

or reformation, when it arose, was one of reaching back to a far-away

perfection of the past, never of remoulding things on lines laid

down by reason. Yet even into this half-stifled world there entered,

by eastern ways, and first in the guise of rude demotic departures

from priestly prescription, the indestructible spirit of change.

§ 3. POPULAR ANTI-CLERICAL HERESY

The first Western traces of the imported Paulician heresy are about the

year 1000, [1263] when a rustic of Châlons is heard of as destroying a

cross and a religious picture, and asserting that the prophets are not

wholly to be believed. [1264] From this time forward, the world having

begun to breathe again after the passing of the year 1000 without any

sign of the Day of Judgment, heresy begins to multiply, the chief

movers being "distinguished by a tendency to rationalism." [1265]

In 1010 there is a trace of it in Aquitaine. [1266] In the year

1022 (or, as the date is sometimes put, in 1017) we hear of the

unveiling of a secret society of rationalizing mystics at Orleans,

ten canons of one church being members. [1267] An Italian woman

was said to be the founder, and thirteen were burned alive on their

refusal to recant. According to the records, they denied all miracles,

including the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection; rejected baptism and

the miracle of the Eucharist; took the old "Docetic" view of Jesus,

denying his actual humanity; and affirmed the eternity of matter and

the non-creation of the world. They were also accused, like the first

Christians, of promiscuous nocturnal orgies and of eating sacrificed

infants; but unless such charges are to be held valid in the other

case, they cannot be here. [1268] The stories told of the Manichean

community who lived in the castle of Monforte, near Asti in Lombardy,

in the years 1025-1040, and who at length were likewise burned alive,

are similarly mixed with fable. [1269] On this case it is recorded

that, while the Archbishop of Milan investigated the heresy, the

burning of the victims was the work of the fanatical populace of Milan,

and was done against his will.

A less savage treatment may have made possible the alleged success

of Gerhard, bishop of Cambray and Arras, in reconciling to the

Church at Arras, in 1025 or 1030, a number of laymen--also said to

have been taught by an Italian--who as a body rejected all external

worship, setting aside priestly baptism and the sacraments, penance

and images, funeral rites, holy oil, church bells, cross-worship,

altars, and even churches, and denied the necessity of an order

of priests. [1270] Few of the Protestants of a later age were so

thorough-going; but the fact that many of the sect stood to the old

Marcionite veto on marriage and the sexual instinct gives to their

propaganda its own cast of fanaticism. This last tenet it seemingly

was that gave the Paulicians their common Greek name of cathari,

[1271] "the pure," corrupted or assimilated in Italian to gazzari,

whence presumably the German word for heretic, Ketzer. [1272] Such

a doctrine had the double misfortune that if acted on it left the

sect without the normal recruitment of members' children, while if

departed from it brought on them the stigma of wanton hypocrisy; and

as a matter of fact every movement of the kind, ancient and modern,

seems to have contained within it the two extremes of asceticism and

licence, the former generating the latter.

It could hardly, however, have been the ascetic doctrine that won for

the new heresy its vogue in medieval Europe; nor is it likely that the

majority of the heretics even professed it. If, on the other hand, we

ask how it was that in an age of dense superstition so many uneducated

people were found to reject so promptly the most sacrosanct doctrines

of the Church, it seems hardly less difficult to account for the

phenomenon on the bare ground of their common sense. Critical common

sense there must have been, to allow of it at all; but it is reasonable

to suppose that then, as clearly happened later at the Reformation,

common sense had a powerful stimulus in pecuniary interest.

With the evidence as to Christian practice in the fourth century

on the one hand, and the later evidence as to clerical life on the

other, we are certain of a common play of financial motive throughout

the Middle Ages. And whereas it is intelligible that such rapacity

as we have seen described by Libanius should evoke a heresy which

rejected alike religious ceremonial and the claims of the priest,

it is further reasonable to surmise that resentment of priestly

rapacity and luxury helped men to similar heresy in Western Europe

when the doctrine reached them. If any centuries are to be singled

out as those of maximum profligacy and extortion among the clergy,

they are the ninth and the three following. [1273] It had been part of

the policy of Charlemagne everywhere to strengthen the hands of the

clergy by way of checking the power of the nobles; [1274] and in the

disorder after his death the conflicting forces were in semi-anarchic

competition. The feudal habit of appointing younger sons and underlings

to livings wherever possible; the disorders and strifes of the papacy;

and the frequent practice of dispossessing priests to reward retainers,

thereby driving the dispossessed to plunder on their own account, must

together have created a state of things almost past exaggeration. It

was a matter of course that the clergy on their part should make the

utmost possible use of their influence over men's superstitious fears

in order to acquire bequests of lands; [1275] and such bequests in

turn exasperated the heirs thus disinherited.

Thus orthodoxy and heterodoxy alike had strong economic motives;

and in these may be placed a main part of the explanation of the

gross savagery of persecution now normal in the Church. Such a heresy

as that of Gottschalk, we saw, by denying to the priest all power

of affecting the predestined course of things here or hereafter,

logically imperilled the very existence of the whole hierarchy, and

was by many resented accordingly. The same principle entered into

the controversies over the Eucharist. Still more would the clergy

resent the new Manichean heresy, of which every element, from the

Euchite tenet of the necessity of personal prayer and mortification,

as against the innate demon, to the rejection of all the rites of

normal worship and all the pretensions of priests, was radically

hostile to the entire organization of the Church. When the heretics

in due course developed a priestly system of their own, [1276] the

hostility was only the more embittered.

The crisis was the more acute, finally, because in the latter part of

the tenth century the common expectation that the world would end with

the year 1000 had inspired enormous donations to the Church, [1277]

with a proportionally oppressive effect on the general population,

moving them to economic self-defence. It is in fact clear that

an anti-clerical element entered largely into the beginnings of

the communal movement in France in the eleventh century. In 1024

we find the citizens of Cambrai forming a league to drive out the

canons; [1278] and though that beginning of revolt was crushed out

by massacre, the same spirit expressed itself in heresy. The result

was that religious persecution ere long eclipsed political. Bishop

Wazon of Lüttich (d. 1048) in vain protested against the universal

practice of putting the heretics to death. [1279] Manicheans who

were detected in 1052 at Goslar, in Germany, were hanged, [1280]

a precedent being thus established in the day of small things.

All this went on while the course of the papacy was so scandalous

to the least exacting moral sense that only the ignorance of the

era could sustain any measure of reverence for the Church as an

institution. In the year 963 the ablest of the emperors of that

age, Otto the Great, had the consent of the people of Rome to his

deposition of Pope John XII, a disorderly youth of twenty-five,

"the most profligate if not the most guilty of all who have worn

the tiara," [1281] and to his appointing the Pope in future; but

Teutonic administration soon drove the populace to repeated revolt,

quenched by massacre, till at length John returned, speedily to

be slain by a wronged husband. Economic interest entered largely

into the subsequent attempts of the Romans to choose their own

Pope and rule their own city, and into the contrary claim of the

emperors to do both; and in the nature of things the usually absent

emperors could only spasmodically carry their point. The result was

an epoch of riotous disorder in the papacy. Between John and Leo IX

(955-1048) six popes were deposed, two murdered, and one mutilated;

[1282] and the Church was a mere battle-ground of the factions of the

Roman and Italian nobility. [1283] At last, in 1047, "a disgraceful

contest between three claimants of the papal chair shocked even the

reckless apathy of Italy"; [1284] and the emperor Henry III deposed

them all and appointed a pope of his own choosing, the clergy again

consenting. Soon, however, as before, the local claim was revived;

and in the papacy of the powerful Gregory VII, known as Hildebrand,

the head of the Church determinedly asserted its autonomy and his own

autocracy. Then came the long "war of the investitures" between the

popes and the emperors, in which the former were substantially the

gainers. The result was, in addition to the endless miseries set up

by war, a systematic development of that financial corruption which

already had been scandalous enough. The cathedral chapters and the

nobles traded in bishoprics; the popes sold their ratifications for

great sums; the money was normally borrowed by the bishops from the

papal usurers; and there was witnessed throughout Europe the spectacle

of the Church denouncing all usury as sin, while its own usurers were

scrupulously protected, the bishops paying to them their interest

from the revenues they were able to extort. [1285] Satirical comment

naturally abounded wherever men had any knowledge of the facts; and

what current literature there was reflected the feeling on all sides.

The occurrence of the first and second crusades, the work

respectively of Peter the Hermit and St. Bernard, created a period

of new fanaticism, somewhat unfavourable to heresy; but even in that

period the new sects were at work, [1286] and in the twelfth century,

when crusading had become a mere feudal conspiracy of conquest and

plunder, [1287] heresy reappeared, to be duly met by slaughter. A

perfect ferment of anti-clerical heresy had arisen in Italy, France,

and Flanders. [1288] At Orvieto, in Italy, the heretics for a time

actually had the mastery, and were put down only after a bloody

struggle. [1289] In France, for a period of twenty years from 1106,

Peter de Brueys opposed infant baptism, the use of churches, holy

crosses, prayers for the dead (the great source of clerical income),

and the doctrine of the Real Presence in the eucharist (the main

source of their power), and so set up the highly heretical sect of

Petrobrussians. [1290] Driven from his native district of Vallonise,

he long maintained himself in Gascony, till at length he was seized

and burned (1126 or 1130). The monk Henry (died in prison 1148)

took a similar line, directly denouncing the clergy in Switzerland

and France; as did Tanquelin in Flanders (killed by a priest, 1125);

though in his case there seems to have been as much of religious

hallucination as of the contrary. [1291] A peasant, Eudo of Stella

(who died in prison), is said to have half-revolutionized Brittany

with his anti-ecclesiastical preaching. [1292] The more famous monk

Arnold of Brescia (strangled and burned in 1155), a pupil of Abailard,

but orthodox in his theology and austere in his life, simplified his

plan of reform (about 1139) into a proposal that the whole wealth of

the clergy, from the pope to the monks, should be transferred to the

civil power, leaving churchmen to lead a spiritual life on voluntary

offerings. [1293] For fifteen years the stir of his movement lasted

in Lombardy, till at length his formation of a republic at Rome forced

the papacy to combine with the Emperor Frederick II, who gave Arnold up

to death. But though his movement perished, anti-clericalism did not;

and heretical sects of some kind persisted here and there, in despite

of the Church, till the age of the Reformation. In Italy, during

the age of the Renaissance, all alike were commonly called paterini

or patarini--a nickname which seems to come from pataria, a Milanese

word meaning "popular faction" or "rowdies." [1294] Thus in the whole

movement of fresh popular thought there is a manifest connection with

the democratic movement in politics, though in the schools the spirit

of discussion and dialectic had no similar relationship.

During the first half of the century its warfare with the emperors,

and the frequent appointment of anti-popes, prevented any systematic

policy on the part of the Holy See, [1295] repression being mostly

left to the local ecclesiastical authorities. It was in 1139 that

Innocent II issued the first papal decree against Cathari, expelling

them from the Church and calling on the temporal power to give full

effect to their excommunication. [1296] In 1163 Pope Alexander III,

being exiled from Rome by Frederick I and the anti-pope Victor, called

a great council at Tours, where again a policy of excommunication was

decided on, the secular authorities being commanded to imprison the

excommunicated and confiscate their property, but not to slay them. In

the same year some Cathari arrested at Cologne had been sentenced to

be burned; but the Council did not go so far. As a result the decree

had little or no effect. [1297]

So powerless was the Church at this stage that in 1167 the Cathari held

a council of their own near Toulouse; a bishop of their order, Nicetas,

coming from Constantinople to preside; and a whole system of French

sees was set on foot. [1298] So numerous had the Cathari now become

that their highest grade, the perfecti, alone was reckoned to number

4,000; [1299] and from this time it is of Cathari that we read in the

rolls of persecution. About 1170 four more of them, from Flanders, were

burned at Cologne; and others, of the higher grade called bos homes

(= boni homines, "good men"), at Toulouse. In 1179, the heresy still

gaining ground, an oecumenical council (the Third Lateran) was held at

Rome under Pope Alexander III, decreeing afresh their excommunication,

and setting up a new machinery of extirpation by proclaiming a

crusade at once against the orderly heretics of southern France and

the companies of openly irreligious freebooters who had arisen as a

result of many wars and much misgovernment. To all who joined in the

crusade was offered an indulgence of two years. In the following year

Henry of Clairvaux, Cardinal of Albano, took the matter in hand as

papal plenipotentiary; and in 1181 he raised a force of horse and foot

and fell upon the ill-defended territory of the Viscount of Beziers,

where many heretics, including the daughter of Raymond of Toulouse,

had taken refuge. The chief stronghold was captured, with two Catharist

bishops, who renounced their heresy, and were promptly given prebends

in Toulouse. Many others submitted; but as soon as the terms for which

the crusaders had enlisted were over and the army disbanded, they

returned to their heretical practices. [1300] Two years later an army

collected in central France made a campaign against the freebooters,

slaying thousands in one battle, hanging fifteen hundred after another,

and blinding eighty more. But freebooting also continued. [1301]

The first crusade against heresy having failed, it was left by the

papacy for a number of years to itself; though anti-pope Lucius III in

1184 sought to set up an Inquisition; and in 1195 a papal legate held a

council at Montpellier, seeking to create another crusade. The zeal of

the faithful was mainly absorbed in Palestine; while the nobles at home

were generally at war with each other. Heresy accordingly continued to

flourish, though there was never any suspension of local persecution

outside of Provence, where the heretics were now in a majority,

having more theological schools and scholars than the Church. [1302]

In France in particular, in the early years of the reign of Philip

Augustus (suc. 1180), many paterini were put to death by burning;

[1303] and the clergy at length persuaded the king to expel the Jews,

the work being done almost as cruelly as it was two centuries later

in Spain. In England, where there was thus far little heresy, it

was repressed by Henry II. Some thirty rustics came from Flanders

in 1166, fleeing persecution, and vainly sought to propagate their

creed. Zealous to prove his orthodoxy in the period of his quarrel

with Becket, Henry presided over a council of bishops called by him

at Oxford to discuss the case; and the heretics were condemned to

be scourged, branded in the face, and driven forth--to perish in the

winter wilds. "England was not hospitable to heresy;" and practically

her orthodoxy was "unsullied until the rise of Wiclif." [1304]

In southern Europe and northern Italy in the last quarter of

the century a foremost place began to be taken by the sect of the

Waldenses, or Vaudois (otherwise the Poor Men of Lyons), which--whether

deriving from ancient dissent surviving in the Vaux or Valleys of

Piedmont, [1305] or taking its name and character from the teaching

of the Lyons merchant, Peter Waldus, or an earlier Peter of Vaux

or Valdis [1306]--conforms substantially to the general heretical

tendencies of that age, in that it rejected the papal authority,

contended for the reading of the Bible by the laity, condemned tithes,

disparaged fasting, stipulated for poverty on the part of priests

and denied their special status, opposed prayers for the dead,

and preached peace and non-resistance. In 1199, at Metz, they were

found in possession of a French translation of the New Testament,

the Psalms, and the book of Job--a new and startling invasion of the

priestly power in the west. Above all, their men and women alike went

about preaching in the towns, in the houses, and in the churches,

and administered the eucharist without priests. [1307] Thus Cathari,

Paterini, Manicheans, and non-Manichean Albigenses and Waldenses were

on all fours for the Church, as opponents of its economic claims;

and when at length, under Celestine III and Innocent III, the Holy

See began to be consolidated after a long period of incessant change,

[1308] desperate measures began to be contemplated. Organized heresy

was seen to be indestructible save by general extirpation; and on

economic grounds it was not to be tolerated. At Orvieto the heresy

stamped out with blood in 1125 was found alive again in 1150; was

again put down in 1163 by burning, hanging, and expulsion; and yet

was again found active at the close of the century. [1309] In 1198

Innocent III is found beginning a new Inquisition among the Albigenses;

and in 1199, while threatening them with exile and confiscation, [1310]

he made a last diplomatic attempt to force the obstinately heretical

people of Orvieto to take an oath of fidelity in the year 1199. It

ended in the killing of his representative by the people. [1311]

The papacy accordingly laid plans to destroy the enemy at its centre

of propagation.

§ 4. HERESY IN SOUTHERN FRANCE

In Provence and Languedoc, the scene of the first great papal crusade

against anti-clerical heresy, there were represented all the then

existing forces of popular freethought; and the motives of the crusade

were equally typical of the cause of authority.

1. In addition to the Paulician and other movements of religious

rationalism above noted, the Languedoc region was a centre of

semi-popular literary culture, which was to no small extent

anti-clerical, and by consequence somewhat anti-religious. The

Latin-speaking jongleurs or minstrels, known as Goliards, [1312]

possessing as they did a clerical culture, were by their way of

life committed to a joyous rather than an ascetic philosophy;

and though given to blending the language of devotion with that of

the drinking-table, very much after the fashion of Hafiz, they were

capable of burlesquing the mass, the creed, hymns to the Virgin, the

Lord's Prayer, confessions, and parts of the gospels, as well as of

keenly satirizing the endless abuses of the Church. [1313] "One is

astonished to meet, in the Middle Ages, in a time always represented

as crushed under the yoke of authority, such incredible audacities on

the papacy, the episcopacy, chivalry, on the most revered dogmas of

religion, such as paradise, hell, etc." [1314] The rhymers escaped

simply because there was no police that could catch them. Denounced

by some of the stricter clergy, they were protected by others. They

were, in fact, the minstrels of the free-living churchmen. [1315]

Of this type is Guiot of Provence, a Black Friar, the author of La

Bible Guiot, written between 1187 and 1206. He is a lover of good

living, a champion of aristocrats, a foe of popular movements, [1316]

and withal a little of a buffoon. But it is to be counted to him for

righteousness that he thought the wealth devoured by the clergy might

be more usefully spent on roads, bridges, and hospitals. [1317] He has

also a good word for the old pagans who lived "according to reason";

and as to his own time, he is sharply censorious alike of princes,

pope, and prelates. The princes are rascals who "do not believe in

God," and depress their nobility; and the breed of the latter has sadly

degenerated. The pope is to be prayed for; but he is ill counselled

by his cardinals, who conform to the ancient tendency of Rome to

everything evil; many of the archbishops and bishops are no better;

and the clergy in general are eaten up by greed and simony. [1318]

This is in fact the common note. [1319]

A kindred spirit is seen in much of the verse alike of the northern

Trouvères and the southern Troubadours. A modern Catholic historian

of medieval literature complains that their compositions "abound with

the severest ridicule of such persons and of such things as, in the

temper of the age, were highly estimated and most generally revered,"

and notes that in consequence they were ranked by the devout as

"lewd and impious libertines." [1320] In particular they satirized

the practice of excommunication and the use made by the Church of

hell and purgatory as sources of revenue. [1321] Their anti-clerical

poetry having been as far as possible destroyed by the Inquisition, its

character has to be partly inferred from the remains of the northern

trouvères--e.g., Ruteboeuf and Raoul de Houdan, of whom the former

wrote a Voya de Paradis, in which Sloth is a canon and Pride a bishop,

both on their way to heaven; while Raoul has a Songe d'enfer in which

hell is treated in a spirit of the most audacious burlesque. [1322]

In a striking passage of the old tale Aucassin et Nicolette there is

naïvely revealed the spontaneous revolt against pietism which underlay

all these flings of irreverence. "Into paradise," cries Aucassin,

"go none but ... those aged priests, and those old cripples, and

the maimed, who all day long and all night cough before the altars,

and in the crypts beneath the churches; those ... who are naked and

barefoot and full of sores.... Such as these enter in paradise, and

with them have I nought to do. But in hell will I go. For to hell

go the fair clerks and the fair knights who are slain in the tourney

and the great wars, and the stout archer and the loyal man. With them

will I go. And there go the fair and courteous ladies [of many loves];

and there pass the gold and the silver, the ermine and all rich furs,

harpers and minstrels, and the happy of the world. With these will I

go...." [1323] It was such a temper, rather than reasoned unbelief,

that inspired the blasphemous parodies in Reynard the Fox and other

popular works of the Middle Ages.

The Provençal literature, further, was from the first influenced by

the culture of the Saracens, [1324] who held Sicily and Calabria in

the ninth and tenth centuries, and had held part of Languedoc itself

for a few years in the eighth. On the passing of the duchy of Provence

to Raymond Berenger, Count of Barcelona, at the end of the eleventh

century, not only were the half-Saracenized Catalans mixed with the

Provençals, but Raymond and his successors freely introduced the arts

and science of the Saracens into their dominion. [1325] In the Norman

kingdom of Sicily too the Saracen influence was great even before

the time of Frederick II; and thence it reached afresh through Italy

to Provence, [1326] carrying with it everywhere, by way of poetry, an

element of anti-clerical and even of anti-Christian rationalism. [1327]

Though this spirit was not that of the Cathari and Waldenses, yet the

fact that the latter strongly condemned the Crusades [1328] was a point

in common between them and the sympathizers with Saracen culture. And

as the tolerant Saracen schools of Spain or the Christian schools

of the same region, which copied their curriculum, [1329] were in

that age resorted to by youth from each of the countries of western

Europe for scientific teaching [1330]--all the latest medical and

most other scientific knowledge being in their hands--the influence

of such culture must have been peculiarly strong in Provence. [1331]

The medieval mystery-plays and moralities, already common in Provence,

mixed at times with the normal irreverence of illiterate faith [1332]

a vein of surprisingly pronounced skeptical criticism, [1333] which

at the least was a stimulus to critical thought among the auditors,

even if they were supposed to take it as merely dramatic. Inasmuch as

the drama was hereditarily pagan, and had been continually denounced

and ostracized by Fathers and Councils, [1334] it would be natural

that its practitioners, even when in the service of the Church,

should be unbelievers.

The philosophy and science of both the Arabs and the Spanish Jews

were specially cultivated in the Provence territory. The college of

Montpellier practised on Arab lines medicine, botany, and mathematics;

and the Jews, who had been driven from Spain by the Almohades, had

flourishing schools at Narbonne, Beziers, Nîmes, and Carcassonne,

as well as Montpellier, and spread alike the philosophy of Averroës

and the semi-rational theology of the Jewish thinker Maimonides,

[1335] whose school held broadly by Averroïsm.

For the rest, every one of the new literary influences that were

assailing the Church would tend to flourish in such a civilization as

that of Languedoc, which had been peaceful and prosperous for over two

hundred years. Unable to lay hold of the popular poets and minstrels

who propagated anti-clericalism, the papacy could hope to put down

by brute force the social system in which they flourished, crushing

the pious and more hated heretic with the scoffer. And Languedoc

was a peculiarly tempting field for such operations. Its relative

lack of military strength, as well as its pre-eminence in heresy,

led Innocent III, a peculiarly zealous assertor of the papal power,

[1336] to attack it in preference to other and remoter centres of

enmity. In the first year of his pontificate, 1198, he commenced a new

and zealous Inquisition [1337] in the doomed region; and in the year

1207, when as much persecution had been accomplished as the lax faith

of the nobility and many of the bishops would consent to--an appeal

to the King of France to interfere being disregarded--the scheme

of a crusade against the dominions of Raymond Count of Toulouse was

conceived and gradually matured. The alternate weakness and obstinacy

of Raymond, and the fresh provocation given by the murder, in 1208,

of the arrogant papal legate, Pierre de Castelnau, [1338] permitted

the success of the scheme in such hands. The crusade was planned

exactly on the conditions of those against the Saracens--the heretics

at home being declared far worse than they. [1339] The crusaders

were freed from payment of interest on their debts, exempted from

the jurisdiction of all law courts, and absolved from all their

sins past or future. [1340] To earn this reward they were to give

only forty days' service [1341]--a trifle in comparison with the

hardships of the crusades to Palestine. "Never therefore had the

cross been taken up with a more unanimous consent." [1342] Bishops

and nobles in Burgundy and France, the English Simon de Montfort,

the Abbot of Citeaux, and the Bernardine monks throughout Europe,

combined in the cause; and recruits came from Austria and Saxony, from

Bremen, even from Slavonia, as well as from northern France. [1343]

The result was such a campaign of crime and massacre as European

history cannot match. [1344] Despite the abject submission of the

Count of Toulouse, who was publicly stripped and scourged, and

despite the efforts of his nephew the Count of Albi to make terms,

village after village was fired, all heretics caught were burned, and

on the capture of the city and castle of Beziers (1209), every man,

woman, and child within the walls was slaughtered, many of them in the

churches, whither they had run for refuge. The legate, Arnold abbot

of Citeaux, being asked at an early stage how the heretics were to be

distinguished from the faithful, gave the never-to-be-forgotten answer,

"Kill all; God will know his own." [1345] Seven thousand dead bodies

were counted in the great church of St. Mary Magdalene. The legate

in writing estimated the total quarry at 15,000; others put the

number at sixty thousand. [1346] When all in the place were slain,

and all the plunder removed, the town was burned to the ground,

not one house being left standing. Warned by the fate of Beziers,

the people of Carcassonne, after defending themselves for many days,

secretly evacuated their town; but the legate contrived to capture

a number of the fugitives, of whom he burned alive four hundred, and

hanged fifty. [1347] Systematic treachery, authorized and prescribed

by the Pope, [1348] completed the success of the undertaking. The

Church had succeeded, in the name of religion, in bringing half of

Europe to the attainment of the ideal height of wickedness, in that

it had learned to make evil its good; and the papacy had on the whole

come nearer to destroying the moral sense of all Christendom [1349]

than any conceivable combination of other causes could ever have done

in any age.

According to a long current fiction, it was the Pope who first

faltered when "the whole of Christendom demanded the renewal of

those scenes of massacre" (Sismondi, Crusades, p. 95); but this is

disproved by the discovery of two letters in which, shortly before

his death, he excitedly takes on himself the responsibility for

all the bloodshed (Michelet, Hist. de France, vii, introd. note

to § iv). Michelet had previously accepted the legend which

he here rejects. The bishops assembled in council at Lavaur,

in 1213, demanded the extermination of the entire population of

Toulouse. Finally, the papal policy is expressly decreed in the

third canon of the Fourth General Council of Lateran, 1215. On that

canon see The Statutes of the Fourth General Council of Lateran,

by the Rev. John Evans, 1843. On the crusade in general, cp. Lea,

History of the Inquisition, bk. i, ch. iv; Gieseler, Per. III,

Div. iii, § 89.

The first crusade was followed by others, in which Simon de Montfort

reached the maximum of massacre, varying his procedure by tearing

out eyes and cutting off noses when he was not hanging victims

by dozens or burning them by scores or putting them to the sword

by hundreds [1350] (all being done "with the utmost joy") [1351];

though the "White Company" organized by the Bishop of Toulouse [1352]

maintained a close rivalry. The Church's great difficulty was that

as soon as an army had bought its plenary indulgence for all possible

sin by forty days' service, it disbanded. Nevertheless, "the greater

part of the population of the countries where heresy had prevailed

was exterminated." [1353] Organized Christianity had contrived to

murder the civilization of Provence and Languedoc [1354] while the

fanatics of Islam in their comparatively bloodless manner were doing

as much for that of Moorish Spain. Heresy indeed was not rooted out:

throughout the whole of the thirteenth century the Inquisition met with

resistance in Languedoc [1355]; but the preponderance of numbers which

alone could sustain freethinking had been destroyed, and in course

of time it was eliminated by the sleepless engines of the Church.

It was owing to no lack of the principle of evil in the Christian

system, but simply to the much greater and more uncontrollable

diversity of the political elements of Christendom, that the whole

culture and intelligence of Europe did not undergo the same fate. The

dissensions and mutual injuries of the crusaders ultimately defeated

their ideal [1356]; after Simon de Montfort had died in the odour of

sanctity [1357] the crusade of Louis VIII of France in 1226 seems to

have been essentially one of conquest, there being practically no

heretics left; and the disasters of the expedition, crowned by the

king's death, took away the old prestige of the movement. Meanwhile,

the heresy of the Albigenses, and kindred ideas, had been effectually

driven into other parts of Europe [1358]; and about 1231 we find

Gregory IX burning a multitude of them at the gates of the church of

Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome [1359] and compassing their slaughter

in France and Germany. [1360] In Italy the murderous pertinacity of

the Dominicans gradually destroyed organized heresy despite frequent

and desperate resistance. About 1230 we hear of one eloquent zealot,

chosen podestà by the people of Verona, using his power to burn in one

day sixty heretics, male and female. [1361] The political heterogeneity

of Europe, happily, made variation inevitable; though the papacy,

by making the detection and persecution of heresy a means of gain to

a whole order of its servants, had set on foot a machinery for the

destruction of rational thought such as had never before existed.

It is still common to speak of the personnel of the Inquisition as

disinterested, and to class its crimes as "conscientious." Buckle

set up such a thesis, without due circumspection, as a support

to one of his generalizations. (See the present writer's ed. of

his Introduction to the History of Civilization in England,

pp. 105-108, notes, and the passages in McCrie and Llorente

there cited.) Dr. Lea, whose History of the Inquisition is

the greatest storehouse of learning on the subject, takes up a

similar position, arguing (i, 239): "That the men who conducted

the Inquisition, and who toiled sedulously in its arduous,

repulsive, and often dangerous labour, were thoroughly convinced

that they were furthering the kingdom of God, is shown by the

habitual practice of encouraging them with the remission of sins,

similar to that offered for a pilgrimage to the Holy Land"--a

somewhat surprising theorem. Parallel reasoning would prove that

soldiers never plunder and are always Godly; that the crusaders

were all conscientious men; and that policemen never take bribes

or commit perjury. The interpretation of history calls for a

less simple-minded psychology. That there were devoted fanatics

in the Inquisition as in the Church is not to be disputed; that

both organizations had economic bases is certain; and that the

majority of office-bearers in both, in the ages of faith, had

regard to gain, is demonstrated by all ecclesiastical history.

Dr. Lea's own History shows clearly enough (i, 471-533) that the

Inquisition, from the first generation of its existence, lived

upon its fines and confiscations. "Persecution, as a steady and

continuous policy, rested, after all, upon confiscation.... When

it was lacking, the business of defending the faith lagged

lamentably" (i, 529). "But for the gains to be made out of fines

and confiscations its [the Inquisition's] work would have been

much less thorough, and it would have sunk into comparative

insignificance as soon as the first frantic zeal of bigotry

had exhausted itself" (pp. 532-33). Why, in the face of these

avowals, "it would be unjust to say that greed and thirst for

plunder were the impelling motives of the Inquisition" (p. 532)

is not very clear. See below, ch. x, § 3, as to the causation

in Spain. Cp. Mocatta, The Jews and the Inquisition, pp. 37,

44, 52. On the Inquisition in Portugal, in turn, Professor

W. E. Collins sums up that "it was founded for reasons ostensibly

religious but actually fiscal" (in the "Cambridge Modern History,"

vol. ii, The Reformation, ch. xii, p. 415). Every charge of

economic motive that Catholicism can bring against Protestantism is

thus balanced by the equivalent charge against its own Inquisition.

§ 5. FREETHOUGHT IN THE SCHOOLS

The indestructibility of freethought, meanwhile, was being proved

even in the philosophic schools, under all their conformities to

faith. Already in the ninth century we have seen Scotus Erigena putting

the faith in jeopardy by his philosophic defence of it. Another

thinker, Roscelin (or Roussellin: fl. 1090), is interesting as

having made a critical approach to freethought in religion by way

of abstract philosophy. With him definitely begins the long academic

debate between the Nominalists and Realists so called. In an undefined

way, it had existed as early as the ninth century, [1362] the ground

being the Christian adoption of Plato's doctrine of ideas--that

individual objects are instances or images of an ideal universal,

which is a real existence, and prior to the individual thing:

"universalia ante rem." To that proposition Aristotle had opposed the

doctrine that the universal is immanent in the thing--"universalia

in re"--the latter alone being matter of knowledge; [1363] and in the

Middle Ages those who called Aristotle master carried his negation of

Plato to the extent of insisting that the "universal" or "abstract,"

or the "form" or "species," is a mere subjective creation, a name,

having no real existence. This, the Nominalist position--mistakenly

ascribed to Aristotle [1364]--was ultimately expressed in the formula,

"universalia post rem."

Such reasonings obviously tend to implicate theology; and Roscelin

was either led or helped by his Nominalist training to deny either

explicitly or implicitly the unity of the Trinity, arguing in effect

that, as only individuals are real existences, the actuality of the

persons of the Trinity involves their disunity. [1365] The thesis,

of course, evoked a storm, the English Archbishop Anselm and others

producing indignant answers. Of Roscelin's writing only one letter

is extant; and even Anselm, in criticizing his alleged doctrine,

admits having gathered it only from his opponents, whose language

suggests perversion. [1366] But if the testimony of his pupil Abailard

be truthful, [1367] he was at best a confused reasoner; and in his

theology he got no further than tritheism, then called ditheism. [1368]

Thus, though "Nominalism, by denying any objective reality to general

notions, led the way directly to the testimony of the senses and

the conclusions of experience," [1369] it did so on lines fatally

subordinate to the theology it sought to correct. Roscelin's thesis

logically led to the denial not only of trinity-in-unity but of the

Incarnation and transubstantiation; yet neither he nor his opponents

seem to have thought even of the last consequence, he having in fact

no consciously heretical intention. Commanded to recant by the Council

of Soissons in 1092, he did so, and resumed his teaching as before;

whereafter he was ordered to leave France. Coming to England, he showed

himself so little of a rebel to the papacy as to contend strongly for

priestly celibacy, arguing that all sons of priests and all born out of

wedlock should alike be excluded from clerical office. Expelled from

England in turn for these views, by a clergy still anti-celibate,

he returned to Paris, to revive the old philosophic issue, until

general hostility drove him to Aquitaine, where he spent his closing

years in peace. [1370]

Such handling of the cause of Nominalism gave an obvious advantage

to Realism. That has been justly described by one clerical scholar

as "Philosophy held in subordination to Church-Authority"; [1371]

and another has avowed that "the spirit of Realism was essentially

the spirit of dogmatism, the disposition to pronounce that truth

was already known," while "Nominalism was essentially the spirit

of progress, of inquiry, of criticism." [1372] But even a critical

philosophy may be made to capitulate to authority, as even à priori

metaphysic may be to a certain extent turned against it. Realism had

been markedly heretical in the hands of John Scotus; and in a later

age the Realist John Huss was condemned to death--perhaps on political

grounds, but not without signs of sectarian hate--by a majority of

Nominalists at the Council of Constance. Everything depended on the

force of the individual thinker and the degree of restraint put

upon him by the authoritarian environment. [1373] The world has

even seen the spectacle of a professed indifferentist justifying

the massacre of St. Bartholomew; and the Platonist Marsilio Ficino

vilified Savonarola, basely enough, after his execution, adjusting

a pantheistic Christianity to the needs of the political situation

in Medicean Florence. Valid freethinking is a matter of thoroughness

and rectitude, not of mere theoretic assents.

Tried by that test, the Nominalism of the medieval schools was no

very potent emancipator of the human spirit, no very clear herald of

freedom or new concrete truth. A doctrine which was so far adjusted

to authority as to affirm the unquestionable existence of three

deities, Father, Son, and Spirit, and merely disputed the not more

supra-rational theorem of their unity, yielded to the rival philosophy

a superiority in the kind of credit it sought for itself. Nominalism

was thus "driven to the shade of the schools," where it was "regarded

entirely in a logical point of view, and by no means in its actual

philosophic importance as a speculation concerning the grounds of

human knowledge." [1374] For Roscelin himself the question was one of

dialectics, not of faith, and he made no practical rationalists. The

popular heresies bit rather deeper into life. [1375]

It is doubtless true of the Paulicians that "there was no principle

of development in their creed: it reflected no genuine freedom

of thought" (Poole, Illustrations, p. 95); but the same thing,

as we have seen, is clearly true of scholasticism itself. It may

indeed be urged that "the contest between Ratramn and Paschase on

the doctrine of the Eucharist; of Lanfranc with Berengar on the

same subject; of Anselm with Roscelin on the nature of Universals;

the complaints of Bernard against the dialectical theology of

Abelard; are all illustrations of the collision between Reason

and Authority ... varied forms of rationalism--the pure exertions

of the mind within itself ... against the constringent force

of the Spiritual government" (Hampden, Bampton Lectures on The

Scholastic Philosophy, 3rd ed. p. 37; cp. Hardwick, Church History:

Middle Age, p. 203); but none of the scholastics ever professed

to set Authority aside. None dared. John Scotus indeed affirmed

the identity of true religion with true philosophy, without

professing to subordinate the latter; but the most eminent of the

later scholastics affirmed such a subordination. "The vassalage of

philosophy consisted in the fact that an impassable limit was fixed

for the freedom of philosophizing in the dogmas of the Church"

(Ueberweg, i, 357); and some of the chief dogmas were not allowed

to be philosophically discussed; though, "with its territory thus

limited, philosophy was indeed allowed by theology a freedom which

was rarely and only by exception infringed upon" (ib. Cp. Milman,

Latin Christianity, 4th ed. ix, 151). "The suspicion of originality

was fatal to the reputation of the scholastic divine" (Hampden,

pp. 46-47). The popular heresy, indeed, lacked the intellectual

stimulus that came to the schools from the philosophy of Averroës;

but it was the hardier movement of the two.

Already in the eleventh century, however, the simple fact of the

production of a new argument for the existence of God by Anselm,

Archbishop of Canterbury, is a proof that, apart from the published

disputes, a measure of doubt on the fundamental issue had arisen in

the schools. It is urged [1376] that, though the argumentation of

Anselm seems alien to the thought of his time, there is no proof that

the idea of proving the existence of God was in any way pressed on him

from the outside. It is, however, inconceivable that such an argument

should be framed if no one had raised a doubt. And as a matter of fact

the question was discussed in the schools, Anselm's treatise being

a reproduction of his teaching. The monks of Bec, where he taught,

urged him to write a treatise wherein nothing should be proved by mere

authority, but all by necessity of reason or evidence of truth, and

with an eye to objections of all sorts. [1377] In the preface to his

Cur Deus Homo, again, he says that his first book is an answer to the

objections of infidels who reject Christianity as irrational. [1378]

Further, the nature of part of Anselm's theistic argument and the

very able but friendly reply of Gaunilo (a Count of Montigni, who

entered a convent near Tours, 1044-1083) show that the subject was

within the range of private discussion. Anselm substantially follows

St. Augustine; [1379] and men cannot have read the ancient books

which so often spoke of atheism without confronting the atheistic

idea. It is not to be supposed that Gaunilo was an unbeliever; but

his argumentation is that of a man who had pondered the problem. [1380]

Despite the ostensibly rationalistic nature of his argument, however,

Anselm stipulated for absolute submission of the intellect to the

creed of the Church; [1381] so that the original subtitle of his

Proslogium, Fides quaerens intellectum, in no way admits rational

tests. In the next century we meet with new evidence of sporadic

unbelief, and new attempts to deal with it on the philosophic

side. John of Salisbury (1120-1180) tells of having heard many

discourse on physics "otherwise than faith may hold"; [1382] and the

same vivacious scholar put in his list of "things about which a wise

man may doubt, so ... that the doubt extend not to the multitude," some

"things which are reverently to be inquired about God himself." [1383]

Giraldus Cambrensis (1147-1223), whose abundant and credulous gossip

throws so much light on the inner life of the Church and the laity in

his age, tells that the learned Simon of Tournay "thought not soundly

on the articles of the faith," saying privately, to his intimates,

things that he dared not utter publicly, till one day, in a passion,

he cried out, "Almighty God! how long shall this superstitious sect

of Christians and this upstart invention endure?"; whereupon during

the night he lost the power of speech, and remained helpless till

his death. [1384] Other ecclesiastical chroniclers represent Simon

as deriding alike Jesus, Moses, and Mahomet--an ascription to him

of the "three impostors" formula. [1385] Again, Giraldus tells how

an unnamed priest, reproved by another for careless celebration

of the mass, angrily asked whether his rebuker really believed in

transubstantiation, in the incarnation, in the Virgin Birth, and

in resurrection; adding that it was all carried on by hypocrites,

and assuredly invented by cunning ancients to hold men in terror and

restraint. And Giraldus comments that inter nos there are many who

so think in secret. [1386] As his own picture of the Church exhibits

a gross and almost universal rapacity pervading it from the highest

clergy to the lowest, the statement is entirely credible. [1387]

Yet again, in the Romance of the Holy Grail, mention is twice made

of clerical doubters on the doctrine of the Trinity; [1388] and on

that side, in the crusading period, both the monotheistic doctrine

of Islam and the Arab philosophy of Averroës were likely to set up a

certain amount of skepticism. In the twelfth century, accordingly,

we have Nicolas of Amiens producing his tractate De articulis (or

arte) catholicæ fidei in the hope of convincing by his arguments men

"who disdain to believe the prophecies and the gospel." [1389]

To meet such skepticism too was one of the undertakings of the

renowned Abailard (1079-1142), himself persecuted as a heretic for

the arguments with which he sought to guard against unbelief. Of the

details of his early life it concerns us here to note only that he

studied under Roscelin, and swerved somewhat in philosophy from his

master's theoretic Nominalism, which he partly modified on Aristotelian

lines, though knowing little of Aristotle. [1390] After his retirement

from the world to the cloister, he was induced to resume philosophic

teaching; and his pupils, like those of Anselm, begged their master to

give them rational arguments on the main points of the faith. [1391]

He accordingly rashly prepared a treatise, De Unitate et Trinitate

divina, in which he proceeded "by analogies of human reason," avowing

that the difficulties were great. [1392] Thereupon envious rivals,

of whom he had made many by his arrogance as well as by his fame, set

up against him a heresy hunt; and for the rest of his life he figured

as a dangerous person. While, however, he took up the relatively

advanced position that reason must prepare the way for faith, since

otherwise faith has no certitude, [1393] he was in the main dependent

on the authority either of second-hand Aristotle [1394] or of the

Scriptures, though he partly set aside that of the Fathers. [1395]

When St. Bernard accused him of Arianism and of heathenism he was

expressing personal ill-will rather than criticizing. Abailard himself

complained that many heresies were current in his time [1396]; and

as a matter of fact "more intrepid views than his were promulgated

without risk by a multitude of less conspicuous masters." [1397]

For instance, Bernard Sylvester (of Chartres), in his cosmology,

treated theological considerations with open disrespect [1398];

and William of Conches, who held a similar tone on physics, [1399]

taught, until threatened with punishment, that the Holy Ghost and

the Universal Soul were convertible terms. [1400] This remarkably

rational theologian further rejected the literal interpretation of

the creation of Eve; in science he adopted the Demokritean doctrine of

atoms; and in New Testament matters he revived the old rationalistic

heresy that the three Persons of the Trinity are simply three aspects

of the divine personality--power, wisdom, and will--which doctrine he

was duly forced to retract. It is clear from his works that he lived

in an atmosphere of controversy, and had to fight all along with the

pious irrationalists who, "because they know not the forces of nature,

in order that they may have all men comrades in their ignorance,

suffer not that others should search out anything, and would have us

believe like rustics and ask no reason." "If they perceive any man

to be making search, they at once cry out that he is a heretic." The

history of a thousand years of struggle between reason and religion

is told in those sentences.

As to William's doctrines and writings see Poole, pp. 124-30,

346-59. His authorship of one treatise is only latterly cleared

up. In the work which under the title of Elementa Philosophiae

is falsely ascribed to Bede, and under the title De Philosophia

Mundi to Honorius of Autun (see Poole, pp. 340-42, 347 sq.), but

which is really the production of William of Conches, there occurs

the passage: "What is more pitiable than to say that a thing is,

because God is able to do it, and not to show any reason why it

is so; just as if God did everything that he is able to do! You

talk like one who says that God is able to make a calf out of

a log. But did he ever do it? Either, then, show a reason why a

thing is so, or a purpose wherefore it is so, or else cease to

declare it so." Migne, Patrolog. Latin. xc, 1139. It is thus an

exaggeration to say of Abailard, as does Cousin, that "il mit

de côté la vieille école d'Anselme de Laon, qui exposait sans

expliquer, et fonda ce qu'on appelle aujourd'hui le rationalisme"

(Ouvr. inédits d'Abélard, 1836, intr. p. ii).

Abailard was not more explicit on concrete issues than this

contemporary--who survived him, and studied his writings. If, indeed,

as is said, he wrote that "a doctrine is believed not because God has

said it, but because we are convinced by reason that it is so," [1401]

he went as far on one line as any theologian of his time; but his

main service to freethought seems to have lain in the great stimulus

he gave to the practice of reasoning on all topics. [1402] His enemy,

St. Bernard, on the contrary, gave an "immense impulse to the growth

of a genuinely superstitious spirit among the Latin clergy." [1403]

Dr. Rashdall pronounces Abailard "incomparably the greatest

intellect of the Middle Ages; one of the great minds which mark

a period in the world's intellectual history"; and adds that

"Abailard (a Christian thinker to the very heart's core, however

irredeemable (sic) the selfishness and overweening vanity of his

youth) was at the same time the representative of the principle of

free though reverent inquiry in matters of religion and individual

loyalty to truth." (The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages,

1895, i, 56-57.) If the praise given be intended to exalt Abailard

above John Scotus, it seems excessive.

On a survey of Abailard's theological teachings, a modern reader is

apt to see the spirit of moral reason most clearly in one set forth

in his commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, to the effect that

Jesus was not incarnate to redeem men from damnation, but solely to

instruct them by precept and example, and that he suffered and died

only to show his charity towards men. The thesis was implicit if not

explicit in the teaching of Pelagius; and for both men it meant the

effort to purify their creed from the barbaric taint of the principle

of sacrifice. In our own day, revived by such theologians as the

English Maurice, it seems likely to gain ground, as an accommodation

to the embarrassed moral sense of educated believers. But it is heresy

if heresy ever was, besides being a blow at the heart of Catholic

sacerdotalism; and Abailard on condemnation retracted it as he did

his other Pelagian errors. Retractation, however, is publication;

and to have been sentenced to retract such teaching in the twelfth

century is to leave on posterity an impression of moral originality

perhaps as important as the fame of a metaphysician. In any case,

it is a careful judge who thus finally estimates him: "When he is

often designated as the rationalist among the schoolmen, he deserves

the title not only on account of the doctrine of the Trinity, which

approaches Sabellianism in spite of all his polemics against it, and

not only on account of his critical attempts, but also on account of

his ethics, in which he actually completely agrees in the principal

point with many modern rationalists." [1404] And it is latterly his

singular fate to be valued at once by many sympathetic Catholics,

who hold him finally vindicated alike in life and doctrine, and by

many freethinkers.

How far the stir set up in Europe by his personal magnetism and his

personal record may have made for rational culture, it is impossible

to estimate; but some consequence there must have been. John of

Salisbury was one of Abailard's disciples and admirers; and, as

we saw, he not only noted skepticism in others but indicated an

infusion of it in his own mind--enough to earn for him from a modern

historian the praise of being a sincere skeptic, as against those

false skeptics who put forward universal doubt as a stalking horse for

their mysticism. [1405] But he was certainly not a universal skeptic

[1406]; and his denunciation of doubt as to the goodness and power

of God [1407] sounds orthodox enough. What he gained from Abailard

was a concern for earnest dialectic.

The worst side of scholasticism at all times was that it was more

often than not a mere logical expatiation in vacuo; this partly

for sheer lack of real knowledge. John of Salisbury probably did

not do injustice to the habit of verbiage it developed [1408]; and

the pupils of Abailard seem to have expressed themselves strongly to

him concerning the wordy emptiness of most of what passed current as

philosophic discourse; speaking of the teachers as blind leaders of

the blind. [1409] One version of the legend against Simon of Tournay is

to the effect that, after demonstrating by the most skilful arguments

the truth of the doctrine of the Trinity, he went on to say, when

enraptured listeners besought him to dictate his address so that

it might be preserved, that if he had been evilly minded he could

refute the doctrine by yet better arguments. [1410] Heresy apart,

this species of dialectical insincerity infected the whole life of

the schools, even the higher spirits going about their work with a

certain amount of mere logical ceremony.

§ 6. SARACEN AND JEWISH INFLUENCES

Even in the schools, however, over and above the influence of the more

original teachers, there rises at the close of the twelfth century and

the beginning of the thirteenth some measure of a new life, introduced

into philosophy through the communication of Aristotle to the western

world by the Saracens, largely by the mediation of the Jews. [1411]

The latter, in their free life under the earlier Moorish toleration,

had developed something in the nature of a school of philosophy,

in which the Judaic Platonism set up by Philo of Alexandria in the

first century was blended with the Aristotelianism of the Arabs. As

early as the eighth and ninth centuries, anti-Talmudic (the Karaïtes)

and pro-Talmudic parties professed alike to appeal to reason [1412];

and in the twelfth century the mere production of the Guide of the

Perplexed by the celebrated Moses Maimonides (1130-1205) [1413]

tells of a good deal of practical rationalism (of the kind that

reduced miracle stories to allegories), of which, however, there

is little direct literary result save of a theosophic kind. [1414]

Levi ben Gershom (1286-1344), commonly regarded as the greatest

successor of Maimonides, is like him guardedly rationalistic in his

commentaries on the Scriptures. [1415] But the doctrine which makes

Aristotle a practical support to rationalism, and which was adopted

not only by Averroës but by the Motazilites of Islam--the eternity

of matter--was rejected by Maimonides (as by nearly all other Jewish

teachers, with the partial exception of Levi ben Gershom), [1416]

on Biblical grounds; though his attempts to rationalize Biblical

doctrine and minimize miracles made him odious to the orthodox Jews,

some of whom, in France, did not scruple to call in the aid of the

Christian inquisition against his partisans. [1417] The long struggle

between the Maimonists and the orthodox is described as ending in the

"triumph of peripatetism" or Averroïsm in the synagogue [1418]; but

Averroïsm as modified by Maimonides is only a partial accommodation

of scripture to common sense. It would appear, in fact, that Jewish

thought in the Saracen world retrograded as did that of the Saracens

themselves; for we find Maimonides exclaiming over the apparent

disbelief in creatio ex nihilo in the "Chapters of Rabbi Eliezer the

Great," believed by him to be ancient, but now known to be a product

of the eighth century. [1419] The pantheistic teaching of Solomon

ben Gebirol or Ibn Gebirol, better known as Avicebron, [1420] who

in point of time preceded the Arab Avempace, and who later acquired

much Christian authority, was orthodox on the side of the creation

dogma even when many Jews were on that head rationalistic. [1421]

The high-water mark, among the Jews, of the critical rationalism of

the time, is the perception by Aben or Ibn Ezra (1119-1174) that the

Pentateuch was not written by Moses--a discovery which gave Spinoza

his cue five hundred years later; but Ibn Ezra, liberioris ingenii vir,

as Spinoza pronounced him, had to express himself darkly. [1422]

Thus the Jewish influence on Christian thought in the Middle Ages was

chiefly metaphysical, carrying on Greek and Arab impulses; and to call

the Jewish people, as does Renan, "the principal representative of

rationalism during the second half of the Middle Age" is to make too

much of the academic aspects of freethinking. On the side of popular

theology it is difficult to believe that they had much Unitarian

influence; though Joinville in his Life of Saint Louis tells how,

in a debate between Churchmen and Jews at the monastery of Cluny,

a certain knight saw fit to break the head of one of the Jews with

his staff for denying the divinity of Jesus, giving as his reason

that many good Christians, listening to the Jewish arguments, were

in a fair way to go home unbelievers. It was in this case that the

sainted king laid down the principle that when a layman heard anyone

blaspheme the Christian creed his proper course was not to argue,

but to run the blasphemer through with his sword. [1423] Such admitted

inability on the part of the laity to reason on their faith, however,

was more likely to accompany a double degree of orthodoxy than to

make for doubt; and the clerical debating at the Abbey of Cluny,

despite the honourable attitude of the Abbot, who condemned the

knight's outrage, was probably a muster of foregone conclusions.

For a time, indeed, in the energetic intellectual life of northern

France the spirit of freethought went far and deep. After the great

stimulus given in Abailard's day to all discussion, we find another

Breton teacher, Amaury or Amalrich of Bène or Bena (end of twelfth

century) and his pupil David of Dinant, partly under the earlier

Arab influence, [1424] partly under that of John the Scot, [1425]

teaching a pronounced pantheism, akin to that noted as flourishing

later among the Brethren of the Free Spirit [1426] and some of the

Franciscan Fraticelli. Such a movement, involving disregard for

the sacraments and ceremonies of the Church, was soon recognized as

a dangerous heresy, and dealt with accordingly. The Church caused

Amaury to abjure his teachings; and after his death, finding his party

still growing, dug up and burned his bones. At the same time (1209)

a number of his followers were burned alive; David of Dinant had to

fly for his life; [1427] and inasmuch as the new heresy had begun

to make much of Aristotle, presumably as interpreted by Averroës,

a Council held at Paris vetoed for the university the study alike of

the pagan master and his commentators, interdicting first the Physics

and soon after the Metaphysics. [1428] This veto held until 1237,

when the school which adapted the lore of Aristotle to Christian

purposes began to carry the day.

The heretical Aristotelianism and the orthodox system which was

to overpower it were alike radiated from the south, where the Arab

influence spread early and widely. There, as we shall see, the long

duel between the Emperor Frederick II and the papacy made a special

opportunity for speculative freethought; and though this was far

from meaning at all times practical enmity to Christian doctrine,

[1429] that was not absent. It is clear that before Thomas Aquinas

(1225-1274) a Naturalist and Averroïst view of the universe had

been much discussed, since he makes the remark that "God is by some

called Natura naturans" [1430]--Nature at work--an idea fundamental

alike to pantheism and to scientific naturalism. And throughout his

great work--a marvel of mental gymnastic which better than almost

any other writing redeems medieval orthodoxy from the charge of

mere ineptitude--Thomas indicates his acquaintance with unorthodox

thought. In particular he seems to owe the form of his work as well

as the subject-matter of much of his argument to Averroës. [1431]

Born within the sphere of the Saracen-Sicilian influence, and of

high rank, he must have met with what rationalism there was, and he

always presupposes it. [1432] "He is nearly as consummate a skeptic,

almost atheist, as he is a divine and theologian," says one modern

ecclesiastical dignitary; [1433] and an orthodox apologist [1434]

more severely complains that "Aquinas presented ... so many doubts

on the deepest points ... so many plausible reasons for unbelief

... that his works have probably suggested most of the skeptical

opinions which were adopted by others who were trained in the study

of them.... He has done more than most men to put the faith of his

fellow-Christians in peril." Of course he rejects Averroïsm. Yet he,

like his antagonist Duns Scotus, inevitably gravitates to pantheism

when he would rigorously philosophize. [1435]

What he did for his church was to combine so ingeniously the semblance

of Aristotelian method with constant recurrence to the sacred books

as to impose their authority on the life of the schools no less

completely than it dominated the minds of the unlearned. Meeting

method with method, and showing himself well aware of the lore he

circumvented, he built up a system quite as well fitted to be a

mere gymnastic of the mind; and he thereby effected the arrest for

some three centuries of the method of experimental science which

Aristotle had inculcated. He came just in time. Roger Bacon, trained

at Paris, was eagerly preaching the scientific gospel; and while he

was suffering imprisonment at the hands of his Franciscan superiors

for his eminently secular devotion to science, the freer scholars of

the university were developing a heresy that outwent his.

Now, however, began to be seen once for all the impossibility

of rational freedom in or under a church which depended for its

revenue on the dogmatic exploitation of popular credulity. For a

time the Aristotelian influence, as had been seen by the churchmen

who had first sought to destroy it, [1436] tended to be Averroïst

and rationalist. [1437] In 1269, however, there begins a determined

campaign, led by the bishop of Paris, against the current Averroïst

doctrines, notably the propositions "that the world is eternal";

"that there never was a first man"; "that the intellect of man

is one"; "that the mind, which is the form of man, constituting

him such, perishes with the body"; "that the acts of men are not

governed by divine providence"; "that God cannot give immortality or

incorruptibility to a corruptible or mortal thing." [1438] On such

doctrines the bishop and his coadjutors naturally passed an anathema

(1270); and at this period it was that Albertus Magnus and Thomas

Aquinas wrote their treatises against Averroïsm. [1439]

Still the freethinkers held out, and though in 1271 official commands

were given that the discussion of such matters in the university should

cease, another process of condemnation was carried out in 1277. This

time the list of propositions denounced includes the following:

"that the natural philosopher as such must deny the creation of

the world, because he proceeds upon natural causes and reasons;

while the believer (fidelis) may deny the eternity of the world,

because he argues from supernatural causes"; "that creation is not

possible, although the contrary is to be held according to faith";

"that a future resurrection is not to be believed by the philosopher,

because it cannot be investigated by reason"; "that the teachings of

the theologians are founded on fables"; "that there are fables and

falsities in the Christian religion as in others"; "that nothing more

can be known, on account of theology"; "that the Christian law prevents

from learning"; [1440] "that God is not triune and one, for trinity

is incompatible with perfect simplicity"; "that ecstatic states and

visions take place naturally, and only so." Such vital unbelief could

have only one fate; it was reduced to silence by a papal Bull, [1441]

administered by the orthodox majority; and the memory of the massacres

of the year 1209, and of the awful crusade against the Albigenses,

served to cow the thinkers of the schools into an outward conformity.

Henceforward orthodox Aristotelianism, placed on a canonical footing

in the theological system of Thomas Aquinas, ruled the universities;

and scholasticism counts for little in the liberation of European

life from either dogma or superstition. [1442] The practically

progressive forces are to be looked for outside. In the thirteenth

century in England we find the Franciscan friars in the school of

Robert Grosstête at Oxford discussing the question "Whether there

be a God?" [1443] but such a dispute was an academic exercise like

another; and in any case the authorities could be trusted to see

that it came to nothing. The work of Thomas himself serves to show

how a really great power of comprehensive and orderly thought can be

turned to the subversion of judgment by accepting the prior dominion

of a fixed body of dogma and an arbitrary rule over opinion. And yet,

so strong is the principle of ratiocination in his large performance,

and so much does it embody of the critical forces of antiquity and of

its own day, that while it served the Church as a code of orthodoxy

its influence can be seen in the skeptical philosophy of Europe

as late as Spinoza and Kant. It appears to have been as a result

of his argumentation that there became established in the later

procedure of the Church the doctrine that, while heretics who have

once received the faith and lapsed are to be coerced and punished,

other unbelievers (as Moslems and Jews) are not. This principle also,

it would appear, he derived from the Moslems, as he did their rule

that those of the true faith must avoid intimacy with the unbelievers,

though believers firm in the faith may dispute with them "when there

is greater expectation of the conversion of the infidels than of the

subversion of the fidels." And to the rule of non-inquisition into

the faith of Jews and Moslems the Church professed to adhere while the

Inquisition lasted, after having trampled it under foot in spirit by

causing the expulsion of the Jews and the Moriscoes from Spain. [1444]

A Short History of Freethought Ancient and Modern, Volume 1 of 2 Third edition, Revised and Expanded, in two volumes · 第 11 / 18 章