To this famous cathedral school Abélard came as a pupil of the veteran

dialectician at the age of twenty, and dared to dispute his doctrines.

He soon set up as a teacher himself; but as Notre Dame was interdicted

to him he retired to Melun, ten leagues from Paris, where enthusiastic

pupils crowded to his lecture room, for he was witty, bold, sarcastic,

acute, and eloquent. He afterwards removed to Paris, and so completely

discomfited his old master that he retired from the field. Abélard then

applied himself to the study of divinity, and attended the lectures of

Anselm of Laon, who, though an old man, was treated by Abélard with

great flippancy and arrogance. He then began to lecture on divinity as

well as philosophy, with extraordinary _éclat_. Students flocked to his

lecture room from all parts of Germany, Italy, France, and England. It

is said that five thousand young men attended his lectures, among whom

one hundred were destined to be prelates, including that brilliant and

able Italian who afterwards reigned as Innocent III. It was about this

time, 1117, when he was thirty-eight, that he encountered Héloïse,--a

passage of his life which will be considered in a later volume of this

work. His unfortunate love and his cruel misfortune led to a temporary

seclusion in a convent, from which, however, he issued to lecture with

renewed popularity in a desert place in Champagne, where he constructed

a vast edifice and dedicated it to the Paraclete. It was here that his

most brilliant days were spent. It is said that three thousand pupils

followed him to this wilderness. He was doubtless the most brilliant and

successful lecturer that the Middle Ages ever saw. He continued the

controversy which was begun by Roscelin respecting universals, the

reality of which he denied.

Abélard was not acquainted with the Greek, but in a Latin translation

from the Arabic he had studied Aristotle, whom he regarded as the great

master of dialectics, although not making use of his method, as did the

great Scholastics of the succeeding century. Still, he was among the

first to apply dialectics to theology. He maintained a certain

independence of the patristic authority by his "Sic et Non," in which

treatise he makes the authorities neutralize each other by placing side

by side contradictory assertions. He maintained that the natural

propensity to evil, in consequence of the original transgression, is not

in itself sin; that sin consists in consenting to evil. "It is not,"

said he, "the temptation to lust that is sinful, but the acquiescence in

the temptation;" hence, that virtue cannot be tested without

temptations; consequently, that moral worth can only be truly estimated

by God, to whom motives are known,--in short, that sin consists in the

intention, and not in act. He admitted with Anselm that faith, in a

certain sense, precedes knowledge, but insisted that one must know why

and what he believes before his faith is established; hence, that faith

works itself out of doubt by means of rational investigation.

The tendency of Abélard's teachings was rationalistic, and therefore he

arrayed against himself the great champion of orthodoxy in his

day,--Saint Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, the most influential churchman

of his age, and the most devout and lofty. His immense influence was

based on his learning and sanctity; but he was dogmatic and intolerant.

It is probable that the intellectual arrogance of Abélard, his flippancy

and his sarcasms, offended more than the matter of his lectures. "It is

not by industry," said he, "that I have reached the heights of

philosophy, but by force of genius." He was more admired by young and

worldly men than by old men. He was the admiration of women, for he was

poet as well as philosopher. His love-songs were scattered over Europe.

With a proud and aristocratic bearing, severe yet negligent dress,

beautiful and noble figure, musical and electrical voice, added to the

impression he made by his wit and dialectical power, no man ever

commanded greater admiration from those who listened to him. But he

excited envy as well as admiration, and was probably misrepresented by

his opponents. Like all strong and original characters, he had bitter

enemies as well as admiring friends; and these enemies exaggerated his

failings and his heretical opinions. Therefore he was summoned before

the Council of Soissons, and condemned to perpetual silence. From this

he appealed to Rome, and Rome sided with his enemies. He found a

retreat, after his condemnation, in the abbey of Cluny, and died in the

arms of his friend Peter the Venerable, the most benignant ecclesiastic

of the century, who venerated his genius and defended his orthodoxy, and

whose influence procured him absolution from the Pope.

But whatever were the faults of Abélard; however selfish he was in his

treatment of Héloïse, or proud and provoking to adversaries, or even

heretical in many of his doctrines, especially in reference to faith,

which he is accused of undermining, although he accepted in the main the

received doctrines of the Church, certainly in his latter days, when he

was broken and penitent (for no great man ever suffered more humiliating

misfortunes),--one thing is clear, that he gave a stimulus to

philosophical inquiries, and awakened a desire of knowledge, and gave

dignity to human reason, beyond any man in the Middle Ages.

The dialectical and controversial spirit awakened by Abélard led to such

a variety of opinions among the inquiring young men who assembled in

Paris at the various schools, some of which were regarded as

rationalistic in their tendency, or at least a departure from the

patristic standard, that Peter Lombard, Bishop of Paris, collected in

four books the various sayings of the Fathers concerning theological

dogmas. He was also influenced to make this exposition by the "Sic et

Non" of Abélard, which tended to unsettle belief. This famous manual,

called the "Book of Sentences," appeared about the middle of the twelfth

century, and had an immense influence. It was the great text-book of the

theological schools.

About the time this book appeared the works of Aristotle were introduced

to the attention of students, translated into Latin from the Saracenic

language. Aristotle had already been commented upon by Arabian scholars

in Spain,--among whom Averroes, a physician and mathematician of

Cordova, was the most distinguished,--who regarded the Greek philosopher

as the founder of scientific knowledge. His works were translated from

the Greek into the Arabic in the early part of the ninth century.

The introduction of Aristotle led to an extension of philosophical

studies. From the time of Charlemagne only grammar and elementary logic

and dogmatic theology had been taught, but Abélard introduced dialectics

into theology. A more complete method was required than that which the

existing schools furnished, and this was supplied by the dialectics of

Aristotle. He became, therefore, at the close of the twelfth century, an

acknowledged authority, and his method was adopted to support the dogmas

of the Church.

Meanwhile the press of students at Paris, collected into various

schools,--the chief of which were the theological school of Notre Dame,

and the school of logic at Mount Geneviève, where Abélard had

lectured,--demanded a new organization. The teachers and pupils of these

schools then formed a corporation called a university (_Universitas

Magistrorum et Scholarium_), under the control of the chancellor and

chapter of Notre Dame, whose corporate existence was secured from

Innocent III. a few years afterwards.

Thus arose the University of Paris at the close of the twelfth century,

or about the beginning of the thirteenth, soon followed in different

parts of Europe by other universities, the most distinguished of which

were those of Oxford, Bologna, Padua, and Salamanca. But that of Paris

took the lead, this city being the intellectual centre of Europe even at

that early day. Thither flocked young men from Germany, England, and

Italy, as well as from all parts of France, to the number of twenty-five

or thirty thousand. These students were a motley crowd: some of them

were half-starved youth, with tattered clothes, living in garrets and

unhealthy cells; others again were rich and noble,--but all were eager

for knowledge. They came to Paris as pilgrims flocked to Jerusalem,

being drawn by the fame of the lecturers. The old sleepy schools of the

convents were deserted, for who would go to Fulda or York or Citeaux,

when such men as Abélard, Albert, and Victor were dazzling enthusiastic

youth by their brilliant disputations? These young men also seem to have

been noisy, turbulent, and dissipated for the most part, "filling the

streets with their brawls and the taverns with the fumes of liquor.

There was no such thing as discipline among them. They yelled and

shouted and brandished daggers, fought the townspeople, and were free

with their knocks and blows." They were not all youth; many of them were

men in middle life, with wives and children. At that time no one

finished his education at twenty-one; some remained scholars until the

age of thirty-five.

Some of these students came to study medicine, others law, but more

theology and philosophy. The headquarters of theology was the Sorbonne,

opened in 1253,--a college founded by Robert Sorbon, chaplain of the

king, whose aim was to bring together the students and professors,

heretofore scattered throughout the city. The students of this college,

which formed a part of the university, under the rule of the chancellor

of Notre Dame, it would seem were more orderly and studious than the

other students. They arose at five, assisted at Mass at six, studied

till ten,--the dinner hour; from dinner till five they studied or

attended lectures; then went to supper,--the principal meal; after which

they discussed problems till nine or ten, when they went to bed. The

students were divided into _hospites_ and _socii_, the latter of whom

carried on the administration. The lectures were given in a large hall,

in the middle of which was the chair of the master or doctor, while

immediately below him sat his assistant, the bachelor, who was going

through his training for a professorship. The chair of theology was the

most coveted honor of the university, and was reached only by a long

course of study and searching examinations, to which no one could aspire

but the most learned and gifted of the doctors. The students sat around

on benches, or on the straw. There were no writing-desks. The teaching

was oral, principally by questions and answers. Neither the master nor

the bachelor used a book. No reading was allowed. The students rarely

took notes or wrote in short-hand; they listened to the lectures and

wrote them down afterwards, so far as their memory served them. The

usual text-book was the "Book of Sentences," by Peter Lombard. The

bachelor, after having previously studied ten years, was obliged to go

through a three years' drill, and then submit to a public examination in

presence of the whole university before he was thought fit to teach. He

could not then receive his master's badge until he had successfully

maintained a public disputation on some thesis proposed; and even then

he stood no chance of being elevated to a professor's chair unless he

had lectured for some time with great _éclat_ Even Albertus Magnus,

fresh with the laurels of Cologne, was compelled to go through a three

years' course as a sub-teacher at Paris before he received his doctor's

cap, and to lecture for some years more as master before his

transcendent abilities were rewarded with a professorship. The dean of

the faculty of theology was chosen by the suffrages of the doctors.

The _Organum_ (philosophy of first principles) of Aristotle was first

publicly taught in 1215. This was certainly in advance of the seven

liberal arts which were studied in the old Cathedral schools,--grammar,

rhetoric, and dialectic (Trivium); and arithmetic, geometry, music, and

astronomy (Quadrivium),--for only the elements of these were taught. But

philosophy and theology, under the teaching of the Scholastic doctors

(_Doctores Scholastici_), taxed severely the intellectual powers. When

they introduced dialectics to support theology a more severe method was

required. "The method consisted in connecting the doctrine to be

expounded with a commentary on some work chosen for the purpose. The

contents were divided and subdivided, until the several propositions of

which it was composed were reached. Then these were interpreted,

questions were raised in reference to them, and the grounds of affirming

or denying were presented. Then the decision was announced, and in case

this was affirmative, the grounds of the negative were confuted."

Aristotle was made use of in order to reduce to scientific form a body

of dogmatic teachings, or to introduce a logical arrangement. Platonism,

embraced by the early Fathers, was a collection of abstractions and

theories, but was deficient in method. It did not furnish the weapons to

assail heresy with effect. But Aristotle was logical and precise and

passionless. He examined the nature of language, and was clear and

accurate in his definitions. His logic was studied with the sole view

of learning to use polemical weapons. For this end the syllogism was

introduced, which descends from the universal to the particular, by

deduction,--connecting the general with the special by means of a middle

term which is common to both. This mode of reasoning is opposite to the

method by induction, which rises to the universal from a comparison of

the single and particular, or, as applied in science, from a collection

and collation of facts sufficient to form a certainty or high

probability. A sound special deduction can be arrived at only by logical

inference from true and certain general principles.

This is what Anselm essayed to do; but the Schoolmen who succeeded

Abélard often drew dialectical inferences from what appeared to be true,

while some of them were so sophistical as to argue from false premises.

This syllogistic reasoning, in the hands of an acute dialectician, was

very efficient in overthrowing an antagonist, or turning his position

into absurdity, but not favorable for the discovery of truth, since it

aimed no higher than the establishment of the particulars which were

included in the doctrine assumed or deduced from it. It was reasoning in

perpetual circles; it was full of quibbles and sophistries; it was

ingenious, subtle, acute, very attractive to the minds of that age, and

inexhaustible from divisions and subdivisions and endless

ramifications. It made the contests of the schools a dialectical display

of remarkable powers in which great interest was felt, yet but little

knowledge was acquired. In one respect the Scholastic doctors rendered a

service: they demolished all dreamy theories and poured contempt on

mystical phrases. They insisted, like Socrates, on a definite meaning to

words. If they were hair-splitting in their definitions and

distinctions, they were at least clear and precise. Their method was

scientific. Such terms and expressions as are frequently used by our

modern transcendental philosophers would have been laughed to scorn by

the Schoolmen. No system of philosophy can be built up when words have

no definite meaning. This Socrates was the first to inculcate, and

Aristotle followed in his steps.

With the Crusades arose a new spirit, which gave an impulse to

philosophy as well as to art and enterprise. "The _primum mobile_ of the

new system was Motion, in distinction from the Rest which marked the old

monastic retreats." An immense enthusiasm for knowledge had been kindled

by Abélard, which was further intensified by the Scholastic doctors of

the thirteenth century, especially such of them as belonged to the

Dominican and Franciscan friars.

These celebrated Orders arose at a great crisis in the Papal history,

when rival popes aspired to the throne of Saint Peter, when the Church

was rent with divisions, when princes were contending for the right of

investiture, and when heretical opinions were defended by men of genius.

At this crisis a great Pope was called to the government of the

Church,--Innocent III., under whose able rule the papal power

culminated. He belonged to an illustrious Roman family, and received an

unusual education, being versed in theology, philosophy, and canon law.

His name was Lothario, of the family of the Conti; he was nephew of a

pope, and counted three cardinals among his relatives. At the age of

twenty-one, about the year 1181, he was one of the canons of Saint

Peter's Church; at twenty-four he was sent by the Pope on important

missions. In 1188 he was created cardinal by his uncle, Clement III.;

and in 1198 he was elected Pope, at the age of thirty-eight, when the

Crusades were at their height, when the south of France was agitated by

the opinions of the Albigenses, and the provinces on the Rhine by those

of the Waldenses. It was a turbulent age, full of tumults,

insurrections, wars, and theological dissensions. The old Benedictine

monks had lost their influence, and were disgraced by idleness and

gluttony, while the secular clergy were ignorant and worldly. Innocent

cast his eagle eye into all the abuses which disgraced the age and

Church, and made fearless war upon those princes who usurped his

prerogatives. He excommunicated princes, humbled the Emperor of Germany

and the King of England, put kingdoms under interdict, exempted abbots

from the jurisdiction of bishops, punished heretics, formed crusades,

laid down new canons, regulated taxes, and directed all ecclesiastical

movements. His activity was ceaseless, and his ambition was boundless.

He instituted important changes, and added new orders of monks to the

Church. It was this Pope who instituted auricular confession, and laid

the foundation of a more dreadful spiritual despotism in the form of

inquisitions.

Yet while he ruled tyrannically, his private life was above reproach.

His habits were simple and his tastes were cultivated. He was charitable

and kind to the poor and unfortunate. He spent his enormous revenues in

building churches, endowing hospitals, and rewarding learned men; and

otherwise showed himself the friend of scholars, and the patron of

benevolent movements. He was a reformer of abuses, publishing the most

severe acts against venality, and deciding quarrels on principles of

justice. He had no dramatic conflicts like Hildebrand, for his authority

was established. As the supreme guardian of the interests of the Church

he seldom made demands which he had not the power to enforce. John of

England attempted resistance, but was compelled to submit. Innocent

even gave the archbishopric of Canterbury to one of his cardinals,

Stephen Langton, against the wishes of a Norman king. He took away the

wife of Philip Augustus; he nominated an emperor to the throne of

Constantine; he compelled France to make war on England, and incited the

barons to rebellion against John. Ten years' civil war in Germany was

the fruit of his astute policy, and the only great failure of his

administration was that he could not exempt Italy from the dominion of

the Emperors of Germany, thus giving rise to the two great political

parties of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries,--the Guelphs and

Ghibellines.

To cement his vast spiritual power he encouraged what doubtless seemed

even to him a great fanaticism, but which he found could be turned to

his advantage,--that of the Mendicant Friars, established by Saint

Francis of Assisi, and Saint Dominic of the great family of the Guzmans

in Spain. These men made substantially the same offers to the Pope that

Ignatius Loyola did in after times,--to go where they were sent as

teachers, preachers, and missionaries without condition or reward. They

renounced riches, professed absolute poverty, and wandered from village

to city barefooted, and subsisting entirely on alms as beggars. The

Dominican friar in his black habit, and the Franciscan in his gray,

became the ablest and most effective preachers of the thirteenth

century. The Dominicans confined their teachings to the upper classes,

and became their favorite confessors. They were the most learned men of

the thirteenth century, and also the most reproachless in morals. The

Franciscans were itinerary preachers to the common people, and created

among them the same religious revival that the Methodists did later in

England under the guidance of Wesley. The founder of the Franciscans was

a man who seemed to be "inebriated with love," so unquenchable was his

charity, rapt his devotions, and supernal his sympathy. He found his way

to Rome in the year 1215, and in twenty-two years after his death there

were nine thousand religious houses of his Order. In a century from his

death the friars numbered one hundred and fifty thousand. The increase

of the Dominicans was not so rapid, but more illustrious men belonged to

this institution. It is affirmed that it produced seventy cardinals,

four hundred and sixty bishops, and four popes.

It was in the palmy days of these celebrated monks, before corruption

had set in, that the Dominican Order was recruited with one of the most

extraordinary men of the Middle Ages. This man was Saint Thomas, born

1225 or 1227, son of a Count of Aquino in the kingdom of Naples, known

in history as Thomas Aquinas, "the most successful organizer of

knowledge," says Archbishop Trench, "the world has known since

Aristotle." He was called "the angelical doctor," exciting the

enthusiasm of his age for his learning and piety and genius alike. He

was a prodigy and a marvel of dialectical skill, and Catholic writers

have exhausted language to find expressions for their admiration. Their

Lives of him are an unbounded panegyric for the sweetness of his temper,

his wonderful self-control, his lofty devotion to study, his

indifference to praises and rewards, his spiritual devotion, his loyalty

to the Church, his marvellous acuteness of intellect, his industry, and

his unparalleled logical victories. When he was five years of age his

father, a noble of very high rank, sent him to Monte Cassino with the

hope that he would become a Benedictine monk, and ultimately abbot of

that famous monastery, with the control of its vast revenues and

patronage. Here he remained seven years, until the convent was taken and

sacked by the soldiers of the Emperor Frederic in his war with the Pope.

The young Aquino returned to his father's castle, and was then sent to

Naples to be educated at the university, living in a Benedictine abbey,

and not in lodgings like other students. The Dominicans and Franciscans

held chairs in the university, one of which was filled with a man of

great ability, whose preaching and teaching had such great influence on

the youthful Thomas that he resolved to join the Order, and at the age

of seventeen became a Dominican friar, to the disappointment of his

family. His mother Theodora went to Naples to extricate him from the

hands of the Dominicans, who secretly hurried him off to Rome and

immured him in their convent, from which he was rescued by violence. But

the youth persisted in his intentions against the most passionate

entreaties of his mother, made his escape, and was carried back to

Naples. The Pope, at the solicitation of his family, offered to make him

Abbot of Monte Cassino, but he remained a poor Dominican. His superior,

seeing his remarkable talents, sent him to Cologne to attend the

lectures of Albertus Magnus, then the most able expounder of the

Scholastic Philosophy, and the oracle of the universities, who continued

his lectures after he was made a bishop, and even until he was

eighty-five. When Albertus was transferred from Cologne to Paris, where

the Dominicans held two chairs of theology, Thomas followed him, and

soon after was made bachelor. Again was Albert sent back to Cologne, and

Thomas was made his assistant professor. He at once attracted attention,

was ordained priest, and became as famous for his sermons as for his

lectures. After four years at Cologne Thomas was ordered back to Paris,

travelling on foot, and begging his way, yet stopping to preach in the

large cities. He was still magister and Albert professor, but had

greatly distinguished himself by his lectures.

His appearance at this time was marked. His body was tall and massive,

but spare and lean from fasting and labor. His eyes were bright, but

their expression was most modest. His face was oblong, his complexion

sallow; his forehead depressed, his head large, his person erect.

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