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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Mediaeval Mind (Volume II of II) - A History of the Development of Thought and Emotion in the Middle Ages - -Author: Henry Osborn Taylor - -Release Date: October 4, 2013 [EBook #43881] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEDIAEVAL MIND (VOLUME II) *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive.) - - - - - - - - - -THE MEDIAEVAL MIND - - - - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - London · Bombay · Calcutta - Melbourne - - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - New York · Boston · Chicago - Atlanta · San Francisco - - THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. - TORONTO - - - - - THE MEDIAEVAL MIND - - A HISTORY OF THE DEVELOPMENT - OF THOUGHT AND EMOTION - IN THE MIDDLE AGES - - - BY HENRY OSBORN TAYLOR - - - IN TWO VOLUMES - - VOL. II - - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON - 1911 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - BOOK IV - - THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL: SOCIETY (_continued_) - - CHAPTER XXV - - THE HEART OF HELOÏSE 3 - - CHAPTER XXVI - - GERMAN CONSIDERATIONS: WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE 28 - - - BOOK V - - SYMBOLISM - - CHAPTER XXVII - - SCRIPTURAL ALLEGORIES IN THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES; HONORIUS OF AUTUN 41 - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - THE RATIONALE OF THE VISIBLE WORLD: HUGO OF ST. VICTOR 60 - - CHAPTER XXIX - - CATHEDRAL AND MASS; HYMN AND IMAGINATIVE POEM 76 - - I. Guilelmus Durandus and Vincent of Beauvais. - - II. The Hymns of Adam of St. Victor and the _Anticlaudianus_ - of Alanus of Lille. - - - BOOK VI - - LATINITY AND LAW - - CHAPTER XXX - - THE SPELL OF THE CLASSICS 107 - - I. Classical Reading. - - II. Grammar. - - III. The Effect upon the Mediaeval Man; Hildebert of Lavardin. - - CHAPTER XXXI - - EVOLUTION OF MEDIAEVAL LATIN PROSE 148 - - CHAPTER XXXII - - EVOLUTION OF MEDIAEVAL LATIN VERSE 186 - - I. Metrical Verse. - - II. Substitution of Accent for Quantity. - - III. Sequence-Hymn and Student-Song. - - IV. Passage of Themes into the Vernacular. - - CHAPTER XXXIII - - MEDIAEVAL APPROPRIATION OF THE ROMAN LAW 231 - - I. The Fontes Juris Civilis. - - II. Roman and Barbarian Codification. - - III. The Mediaeval Appropriation. - - IV. Church Law. - - V. Political Theorizing. - - - BOOK VII - - ULTIMATE INTELLECTUAL INTERESTS OF THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES - - CHAPTER XXXIV - - SCHOLASTICISM: SPIRIT, SCOPE, AND METHOD 283 - - CHAPTER XXXV - - CLASSIFICATION OF TOPICS; STAGES OF EVOLUTION 311 - - I. Philosophic Classification of the Sciences; the - Arrangement of Vincent's Encyclopaedia, of the Lombard's - _Sentences_, of Aquinas's _Summa theologiae_. - - II. The Stages of Development: Grammar, Logic, Metalogics. - - CHAPTER XXXVI - - TWELFTH-CENTURY SCHOLASTICISM 338 - - I. The Problem of Universals: Abaelard. - - II. The Mystic Strain: Hugo and Bernard. - - III. The Later Decades: Bernard Silvestris; Gilbert de la - Porrée; William of Conches; John of Salisbury, and - Alanus of Lille. - - CHAPTER XXXVII - - THE UNIVERSITIES, ARISTOTLE, AND THE MENDICANTS 378 - - CHAPTER XXXVIII - - BONAVENTURA 402 - - CHAPTER XXXIX - - ALBERTUS MAGNUS 420 - - CHAPTER XL - - THOMAS AQUINAS 433 - - I. Thomas's Conception of Human Beatitude. - - II. Man's Capacity to know God. - - III. How God knows. - - IV. How the Angels know. - - V. How Men know. - - VI. Knowledge through Faith perfected in Love. - - CHAPTER XLI - - ROGER BACON 484 - - CHAPTER XLII - - DUNS SCOTUS AND OCCAM 509 - - CHAPTER XLIII - - THE MEDIAEVAL SYNTHESIS: DANTE 525 - - INDEX 561 - - - - -BOOK IV - -THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL: SOCIETY - -(_Continued_) - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -THE HEART OF HELOÏSE - - -The romantic growth and imaginative shaping of chivalric love having been -followed in the fortunes of its great exemplars, Tristan, Iseult, -Lancelot, Guinevere, Parzival, a different illustration of mediaeval -passion may be had by turning from these creations of literature to an -actual woman, whose love for a living man was thought out as keenly and as -tragically felt as any heart-break of imagined lovers, and was impressed -with as entire a self-surrender as ever ravished the soul of nun panting -with love of the God-man. - -There has never been a passion between a man and woman more famous than -that which brought happiness and sorrow to the lives of Abaelard and -Heloïse. Here fame is just. It was a great love, and its course was a -perfect soul's tragedy. Abaelard was a celebrity, the intellectual glory -of an active-minded epoch. His love-story has done as much for his -posthumous fame as all his intellectual activities. Heloïse became known -in her time through her relations with Abaelard; in his songs her name was -wafted far. She has come down to us as one of the world's love-heroines. -Yet few of those who have been touched by her story have known that -Heloïse was a great woman, possessed of an admirable mind, a character -which proved its strength through years, and, above all, a capacity for -loving--for loving out to the full conclusions of love's convictions, and -for feeling in their full range and power whatever moods and emotions -could arise from an unhappy situation and a passion as deeply felt as it -was deeply thought upon. - -Abaelard was not a great character--aside from his intellect. He was vain -and inconsiderate, a man who delighted in confounding and supplanting his -teachers, and in being a thorn in the flesh of all opponents. But he -became chastened through his misfortunes and through Heloïse's high and -self-sacrificing love. In the end, perhaps, his love was worthy of the -love of Heloïse. Yet her love from the beginning was nobler and deeper -than his love of her. Love was for him an incident in his experience, then -an element in his life. Love made the life of Heloïse; it remained her -all. Moreover, in the records of their passion, Heloïse's love is unveiled -as Abaelard's is not. For all these reasons, the heart of Heloïse rather -than the heart of Abaelard discloses the greatness of a love that wept -itself out in the twelfth century, and it is her love rather than his that -can teach us much regarding the mediaeval capacity for loving. Hers is a -story of mediaeval womanhood, and sin, and repentance perhaps, with peace -at last, or at least the lips shut close and further protest foregone. - -Abaelard's stormy intellectual career[1] and the story of the love between -him and the canon's niece are well known. Let us follow him in those parts -of his narrative which disclose the depth and power of Heloïse's love for -him. We draw from his _Historia calamitatum_, written "to a friend," -apparently an open letter intended to circulate. - -"There was," writes he, referring to the time of his sojourn in Paris, -when he was about thirty-six years old, and at the height of his fame as a -lecturer in the schools-- - - "There was in Paris a young girl named Heloïse, the niece of a canon, - Fulbert. It was his affectionate wish that she should have the best - education in letters that could be procured. Her face was not unfair, - and her knowledge was unequalled. This attainment, so rare in women, - had given her great reputation. - - "I had hitherto lived continently, but now was casting my eyes about, - and I saw that she possessed every attraction that lovers seek; nor - did I regard my success as doubtful, when I considered my fame and my - goodly person, and also her love of letters. Inflamed with love, I - thought how I could best become intimate with her. It occurred to me - to obtain lodgings with her uncle, on the plea that household cares - distracted me from study. Friends quickly brought this about, the old - man being miserly and yet desirous of instruction for his niece. He - eagerly entrusted her to my tutorship, and begged me to give her all - the time I could take from my lectures, authorizing me to see her at - any hour of the day or night, and punish her when necessary. I - marvelled with what simplicity he confided a tender lamb to a hungry - wolf. As he had given me authority to punish her, I saw that if - caresses would not win my object, I could bend her by threats and - blows. Doubtless he was misled by love of his niece and my own good - reputation. Well, what need to say more: we were united first by the - one roof above us, and then by our hearts. Our hours of study were - given to love. The books lay open, but our words were of love rather - than philosophy, there were more kisses than aphorisms; and love was - oftener reflected in our eyes than the lettered page. To avert - suspicion, I struck her occasionally--very gentle blows of love. The - joy of love, new to us both, brought no satiety. The more I was taken - up with this pleasure, the less time I gave to philosophy and the - schools--how tiresome had all that become! I became unproductive, - merely repeating my old lectures, and if I composed any verses, love - was their subject, and not the secrets of philosophy; you know how - popular and widely sung these have become. But the students! what - groans and laments arose from them at my distraction! A passion so - plain was not to be concealed; every one knew of it except Fulbert. A - man is often the last to know of his own shame. Yet what everybody - knows cannot be hid forever, and so after some months he learned all. - Oh how bitter was that uncle's grief! and what was the grief of the - separated lovers! How ashamed I was, and afflicted at the affliction - of the girl! And what a storm of sorrow came over her at my disgrace. - Neither complained for himself, but each grieved at what the other - must endure." - -Although Abaelard was moved at the plight of Heloïse, he bitterly felt his -own discomfiture in the eyes of the once admiring world. But the sentence -touching Heloïse is a first true note of her devoted love: what a storm of -sorrow (_moeroris aestus_) came over her at my disgrace. Through this -trouble and woe, Heloïse never thought of her own pain save as it pained -her to be the source of grief to Abaelard. - -Abaelard continues: - - "The separation of our bodies joined our souls more closely and - inflamed our love. Shame spent itself and made us unashamed, so small - a thing it seemed compared with satisfying love. Not long afterwards - the girl knew that she was to be a mother, and in the greatest - exultation wrote and asked me to advise what she should do. One night, - as we agreed on, when Fulbert was away I bore her off secretly and - sent her to my own country, Brittany, where she stayed with my sister - till she gave birth to a son, whom she named Astralabius. - - "The uncle, on his return to his empty house, was frantic. He did not - know what to do to me. If he should kill or do me some bodily injury, - he feared lest his niece, whom he loved, would suffer for it among my - people in Brittany. He could not seize me, as I was prepared against - all attempts. At length, pitying his anguish, and feeling remorse at - having caused it, I went to him as a suppliant and promised whatever - satisfaction he should demand. I assured him that nothing in my - conduct would seem remarkable to any one who had felt the strength of - love or would take the pains to recall how many of the greatest men - had been thrown down by women, ever since the world began. Whereupon I - offered him a satisfaction greater than he could have hoped, to wit, - that I would marry her whom I had corrupted, if only the marriage - might be kept secret so that it should not injure me in the minds of - men. He agreed and pledged his faith, and the faith of his friends, - and sealed with kisses the reconciliation which I had sought--so that - he might more easily betray me!" - -It will be remembered that Abaelard was a clerk, a _clericus_, in virtue -of his profession of letters and theology. Never having taken orders, he -could marry; but while a clerk's slip could be forgotten, marriage might -lead people to think he had slighted his vocation, and would certainly bar -the ecclesiastical preferment which such a famous _clericus_ might -naturally look forward to. Nevertheless, he at once set out to fetch -Heloïse from Brittany, to make her his wife. - -The stand which she now took shows both her mind and heart: - - "She strongly disapproved, and urged two reasons against the marriage, - to wit, the danger and the disgrace in which it would involve me. She - swore--and so it proved--that no satisfaction would ever appease her - uncle. She asked how she was to have any glory through me when she - should have made me inglorious, and should have humiliated both - herself and me. What penalties would the world exact from her if she - deprived it of such a luminary; what curses, what damage to the - Church, what lamentations of philosophers, would follow on this - marriage. How indecent, how lamentable would it be for a man whom - nature had made for all, to declare that he belonged to one woman, and - subject himself to such shame. From her soul, she detested this - marriage which would be so utterly ignominious for me, and a burden to - me. She expatiated on the disgrace and inconvenience of matrimony for - me and quoted the Apostle Paul exhorting men to shun it. If I would - not take the apostle's advice or listen to what the saints had said - regarding the matrimonial yoke, I should at least pay attention to the - philosophers--to Theophrastus's words upon the intolerable evils of - marriage, and to the refusal of Cicero to take a wife after he had - divorced Terentia, when he said that he could not devote himself to a - wife and philosophy at the same time. 'Or,' she continued, laying - aside the disaccord between study and a wife, 'consider what a married - man's establishment would be to you. What sweet accord there would be - between the schools and domestics, between copyists and cradles, - between books and distaffs, between pen and spindle! Who, engaged in - religious or philosophical meditations, could endure a baby's crying - and the nurse's ditties stilling it, and all the noise of servants? - Could you put up with the dirty ways of children? The rich can, you - say, with their palaces and apartments of all kinds; their wealth does - not feel the expense or the daily care and annoyance. But I say, the - state of the rich is not that of philosophers; nor have men entangled - in riches and affairs any time for the study of Scripture or - philosophy. The renowned philosophers of old, despising the world, - fleeing rather than relinquishing it, forbade themselves all - pleasures, and reposed in the embraces of philosophy.'" - -Speaking thus, Heloïse fortified her argument with quotations from Seneca, -and the examples of Jewish and Gentile worthies and Christian saints, and -continued: - - "It is not for me to point out--for I would not be thought to instruct - Minerva--how soberly and continently all these men lived who, - according to Augustine and others, were called philosophers as much - for their way of life as or their knowledge. If laymen and Gentiles, - bound by no profession of religion, lived thus, surely you, a clerk - and canon, should not prefer low pleasures to sacred duties, nor let - yourself be sucked down by this Charybdis and smothered in filth - inextricably. If you do not value the privilege of a clerk, at least - defend the dignity of a philosopher. If reverence for God be despised, - still let love of decency temper immodesty. Remember, Socrates was - tied to a wife, and through a nasty accident wiped out this blot upon - philosophy, that others afterwards might be more cautious; which - Jerome relates in his book against Jovinianus, how once when enduring - a storm of Xanthippe's clamours from the floor above, he was ducked - with slops, and simply said, 'I knew such thunder would bring rain.' - - "Finally she said that it would be dangerous for me to take her back - to Paris; it was more becoming to me, and sweeter to her, to be called - my mistress, so that affection alone might keep me hers and not the - binding power of any matrimonial chain; and if we should be separated - for a time, our joys at meeting would be the dearer for their rarity. - When at last with all her persuasions and dissuasions she could not - turn me from my folly, and could not bear to offend me, with a burst - of tears she ended in these words: 'One thing is left: in the ruin of - us both the grief which follows shall not be less than the love which - went before.' Nor did she here lack the spirit of prophecy." - -Heloïse's reasonings show love great and true and her absolute devotion to -Abaelard's interests. None the less striking is her clear intelligence. -She reasoned correctly; she was right, the marriage would do great harm to -Abaelard and little good to her. We see this too, if we lay aside our -sense of the ennobling purity of marriage--a sentiment not commonly felt -in the twelfth century. Marriage was holy in the mind of Christ. But it -did not preserve its holiness through the centuries which saw the rise of -monasticism and priestly celibacy. A way of life is not pure and holy when -another way is holier and purer; this is peculiarly true in Christianity, -which demands the ideal best with such intensity as to cast reflection on -whatever falls below the highest standard. From the time of the barbarian -inroads, on through the Carolingian periods, and into the later Middle -Ages, there was enough barbarism and brutality to prevent the -preservation, or impede the development, of a high standard of marriage. -Not monasticism, but his own half-barbarian, lustful heart led Charlemagne -to marry and remarry at will, and have many mistresses besides. It was the -same with the countless barons and mediaeval kings, rude and half -civilized. This was barbarous lust, not due to the influence of -monasticism. But, on the other hand, it was always the virgin or celibate -state that the Church held before the eyes of all this semi-barbarous -laity as the ideal for a Christian man or woman. The Church sanctioned -marriage, but hardly lauded it or held it up as a condition in which lives -of holiness and purity could be led. Such were the sentiments in which -Heloïse was born and bred. They were subconscious factors in her thoughts -regarding herself and her lover. Devoted and unselfish was her love; -undoubtedly Heloïse would have sacrificed herself for Abaelard under any -social conditions. Nevertheless, with her, marriage added little to love; -it was a mere formal and binding authorization; love was no purer for it. -To her mind, for a man in Abaelard's situation to be entangled in a -temporary _amour_ was better than to be chained to his passion, with his -career irrevocably ruined, in marriage. In so far as her thoughts or -Abaelard's were influenced by the environment of priestly thinking, -marriage would seem a rendering permanent of a passionate and sinful -state, which it were _best_ to cast off altogether. For herself, as she -said truly, the marriage would bring obloquy rather than reinstatement. -She had been mistress to a clerk; marriage would make her the partner of -his abandonment of his vocation, the accomplice of broken purposes if not -of broken vows. And finally, as there was then no line of disgrace as now -between bastard and lawful issue, Heloïse had no thought that the -interests of her son demanded that his mother should become his father's -wife. - - "Leaving our son in my sister's care, we stole back to Paris, and - shortly after, having in the night celebrated our vigils in a certain - church, we were married at dawn in the presence of her uncle and some - of his and our friends. We left at once separately and with secrecy, - and afterwards saw each other only in privacy, so as to conceal what - we had done. But her uncle and his household began at once to announce - the marriage and violate his word; while she, on the contrary, - protested vehemently and swore that it was false. At that he became - enraged and treated her vilely. When I discovered this I sent her to - the convent of Argenteuil, near Paris, where she had been educated. - There I had her take the garb of a nun, except the veil. Hearing this, - the uncle and his relations thought that I had duped them, ridding - myself of Heloïse by making her a nun. So having bribed my servant, - they came upon me by night, when I was sleeping, and took on me a - vengeance as cruel and irretrievable as it was vile and shameful. Two - of the perpetrators were pursued and vengeance taken. - - "In the morning the whole town was assembled, crying and lamenting my - plight, especially the clerks and students; at which I was afflicted - with more shame than I suffered physical pain. I thought of my ruined - hopes and glory, and then saw that by God's just judgment I was - punished where I had most sinned, and that Fulbert had justly - avenged treachery with treachery. But what a figure I should cut in - public! how the world would point its finger at me! I was also - confounded at the thought of the Levitical law, according to which I - had become an abomination to the Church.[2] In this misery the - confusion of shame--I confess it--rather than the ardour of conversion - drove me to the cover of the cloister, after she had willingly obeyed - my command to take the veil. I became a monk in the abbey of St. - Denis, and she a nun in the convent of Argenteuil. Many begged her not - to set that yoke upon her youth; at which, amid her tears, she broke - out in Cornelia's lament: 'O great husband! undeserving of my couch! - Has fortune rights over a head so high? Why did I, impious, marry thee - to make thee wretched? Accept these penalties, which I gladly pay.'[3] - With these words, she went straight to the altar, received the veil - blessed by the bishop, and took the vows before them all." - -Abaelard's _Historia calamitatum_ now turns to troubles having no -connection with Heloïse: his difficulties with the monks of St. Denis, -with other monks, with every one, in fact, except his scholars; his -arraignment before the Council of Soissons, the public burning of his -book, _De Unitate et Trinitate divina_, and various other troubles, till, -seeking a retreat, he constructed an oratory on the bank of the Ardisson. -He named it the Paraclete, and there he taught and lectured. He was -afterwards elected abbot of a monastery in Brittany, where he discovered -that those under him were savage beasts rather than monks. Here the -_Historia calamitatum_ was written. - -The monks of St. Denis had never ceased to hate Abaelard for his assertion -that their great Saint was not really Dionysius the Areopagite who heard -Paul preach. Their abbot now brought forward and proved an ancient title -to the land where stood the convent of Argenteuil, "in which," to resume -Abaelard's account, - - "she, once my wife, now my sister in Christ, had taken the veil, and - was at this time prioress. The nuns were rudely driven out. News of - this came to me as a suggestion from the Lord to bethink me of the - deserted Paraclete. Going thither, I invited Heloïse and her nuns to - come and take possession. They accepted, and I gave it to them. - Afterward Pope Innocent II. confirmed this grant to them and their - successors in perpetuity. There for a time they lived in want; but - soon the Divine Pity showed itself the true Paraclete, and moved the - people of the neighbourhood to take compassion on them, and they soon - knew no lack. Indeed as women are the weaker sex, their need moves men - more readily to pity, and their virtues are the more grateful to both - God and man. And on our sister the Lord bestowed such favour in the - eyes of all, that the bishops loved her as a daughter, the abbots as a - sister, the laity as a mother; and all wondered at her piety, her - wisdom, and her gentle patience in everything. She rarely let herself - be seen, that she might devote herself more wholly to prayers and - meditations in her cell; but all the more persistently people sought - her spiritual counsel." - -What were those meditations and those prayers uttered or unuttered in that -cell? They did not always refer to the kingdom of heaven, judging from the -abbess's first letter to her former lover. After the installation of -Heloïse and her nuns, Abaelard rarely visited the Paraclete, although his -advice and instruction was desired there. His visits gave rise to too much -scandal. In the course of time, however, the _Historia calamitatum_ came -into the hands of Heloïse, and occasioned this letter, which seems to -issue forth out of a long silence; ten years had passed since she became a -nun. The superscription is as follows: - - "To her master, rather to a father, to her husband, rather to a - brother, his maid or rather daughter, his wife or rather sister, to - Abaelard, Heloïse. - - "Your letter, beloved, written to comfort a friend, chanced recently - to reach me. Seeing by its first lines from whom it was, I burned to - read it for the love I bear the writer, hoping also from its words to - recreate an image of him whose life I have ruined. Those words dropped - gall and absinthe as they brought back the unhappy story of our - intercourse and thy ceaseless crosses, O my only one. Truly the letter - must have convinced the friend that his troubles were light compared - with yours, as you showed the treachery and persecutions which had - followed you, the calumnies of enemies and the burning of your - glorious book, the machinations of false brothers, and the vile acts - of those worthless monks whom you call your sons. No one could read it - with dry eyes. Your perils have renewed my griefs; here we all despair - of your life and each day with trembling hearts expect news of your - death. In the name of Christ, who so far has somehow preserved thee - for himself, deign with frequent letters to let these weak servants of - Him and thee know of the storms overwhelming the swimmer, so that we - who alone remain to thee may be participators of thy pain or joy. One - who grieves may gain consolation from those grieving with him; a - burden borne by many is more lightly borne. And if this tempest - abates, how happy shall we be to know it. Whatever the letters may - contain they will show at least that we are not forgotten. Has not - Seneca said in his letter to Lucilius, that the letters of an absent - friend are sweet? When no malice can stop your giving us this much of - you, do not let neglect prove a bar. - - "You have written that long letter to console a friend with the story - of your own misfortunes, and have thereby roused our grief and added - to our desolation. Heal these new wounds. You owe to us a deeper debt - of friendship than to him, for we are not only friends, but friends - the dearest, and your daughters. After God, you alone are the founder - of this place, the builder of this oratory and of this congregation. - This new plantation for a holy purpose is your own; the delicate - plants need frequent watering. He who gives so much to his enemies, - should consider his daughters. Or, leaving out the others here, think - how this is owing me from thee: what thou owest to all women under - vows, thou shalt pay more devotedly to thine only one. How many books - have the holy fathers written for holy women, for their exhortation - and instruction! I marvel at thy forgetfulness of these frail - beginnings of our conversion. Neither respect of God nor love of us - nor the example of the blessed fathers, has led thee by speech or - letter to console me, cast about, and consumed with grief. This - obligation was the stronger, because the sacrament of marriage joined - thee to me, and I--every one sees it--cling to thee with unmeasured - love. - - "Dearest, thou knowest--who knows not?--how much I lost in thee, and - that an infamous act of treachery robbed me of thee and of myself at - once. The greater my grief, the greater need of consolation, not from - another but from thee, that thou who art alone my cause of grief may - be alone my consolation. It is thou alone that canst sadden me or - gladden me or comfort me. And thou alone owest this to me, especially - since I have done thy will so utterly that, unable to offend thee, I - endured to wreck myself at thy command. Nay, more than this, love - turned to madness and cut itself off from hope of that which alone it - sought, when I obediently changed my garb and my heart too in order - that I might prove thee sole owner of my body as well as of my spirit. - God knows, I have ever sought in thee only thyself, desiring simply - thee and not what was thine. I asked no matrimonial contract, I looked - for no dowry; not my pleasure, not my will, but thine have I striven - to fulfil. And if the name of wife seemed holier or more potent, the - word mistress (_amica_) was always sweeter to me, or even--be not - angry!--concubine or harlot; for the more I lowered myself before - thee, the more I hoped to gain thy favour, and the less I should hurt - the glory of thy renown. This thou didst graciously remember, when - condescending to point out in that letter to a friend some of the - reasons (but not all!) why I preferred love to wedlock and liberty to - a chain. I call God to witness that if Augustus, the master of the - world, would honour me with marriage and invest me with equal rule, it - would still seem to me dearer and more honourable to be called thy - strumpet than his empress. He who is rich and powerful is not the - better man: that is a matter of fortune, this of merit. And she is - venal who marries a rich man sooner than a poor man, and yearns for a - husband's riches rather than himself. Such a woman deserves pay and - not affection. She is not seeking the man but his goods, and would - wish, if possible, to prostitute herself to one still richer. Aspasia - put this clearly when she was trying to effect a reconciliation - between Xenophon and his wife: 'Until you come to think that there is - nowhere else a better man or a woman more desirable, you will be - continually looking for what you think to be the best, and will wish - to be married to the man or woman who is the very best.' This is - indeed a holy, rather than a philosophical sentiment, and wisdom, not - philosophy, speaks. This is the holy error and blessed deception - between man and wife, when affection perfect and unimpaired keeps - marriage inviolate not so much by continency of body as by chastity of - mind. But what with other women is an error, is, in my case, the - manifest truth: since what they suppose in their husbands, I--and the - whole world agrees--know to be in thee. My love for thee is truth, - being free from all error. Who among kings or philosophers can vie - with your fame? What country, what city does not thirst to see you? - Who, I ask, did not hurry to see you appearing in public and crane his - neck to catch a last glimpse as you departed? What wife, what maid did - not yearn for you absent, and burn when you were present? What queen - did not envy me my joys and couch? There were in you two qualities by - which you could draw the soul of any woman, the gift of poetry and the - gift of singing, gifts which other philosophers have lacked. As a - distraction from labour, you composed love-songs both in metre and in - rhyme, which for their sweet sentiment and music have been sung and - resung and have kept your name in every mouth. Your sweet melodies do - not permit even the illiterate to forget you. Because of these gifts - women sighed for your love. And, as these songs sung of our loves, - they quickly spread my name in many lands, and made me the envy of my - sex. What excellence of mind or body did not adorn your youth? No - woman, then envious, but now would pity me bereft of such delights. - What enemy even would not now be softened by the compassion due me? - - "I have brought thee evil, thou knowest how innocently. Not the result - of the act but the disposition of the doer makes the crime; justice - does not consider what happens, but through what intent it happens. My - intent towards thee thou only hast proved and alone canst judge. I - commit everything to thy weighing and submit to thy decree. - - "Tell me one thing: why, after our conversion, commanded by thee, did - I drop into oblivion, to be no more refreshed by speech of thine or - letter? Tell me, I say, if you can, or I will say what I feel and what - every one suspects: desire rather than friendship drew you to me, lust - rather than love. So when desire ceased, whatever you were manifesting - for its sake likewise vanished. This, beloved, is not so much my - opinion as the opinion of all. Would it were only mine and that thy - love might find defenders to argue away my pain. Would that I could - invent some reason to excuse you and also cover my cheapness. Listen, - I beg, to what I ask, and it will seem small and very easy to you. - Since I am cheated of your presence, at least put vows in words, of - which you have a store, and so keep before me the sweetness of thine - image. I shall vainly expect you to be bountiful in acts if I find you - a miser in words. Truly I thought that I merited much from you, when I - had done all for your sake and still continue in obedience. When - little more than a girl I took the hard vows of a nun, not from piety - but at your command. If I merit nothing from thee, how vain I deem my - labour! I can expect no reward from God, as I have done nothing from - love of Him. Thee hurrying to God I followed, or rather went before. - For, as you remembered how Lot's wife turned back, you first delivered - me to God bound with the vow, and then yourself. That single act of - distrust, I confess, grieved me and made me blush. God knows, at your - command I would have followed or preceded you to fiery places. For my - heart is not with me, but with thee; and now more than ever, if not - with thee it is nowhere, for it cannot exist without thee. That my - heart may be well with thee, see to it, I beg; and it will be well if - it finds thee kind, rendering grace for grace--a little for much. - Beloved, would that thy love were less sure of me so that it might be - more solicitous; I have made you so secure that you are negligent. - Remember all I have done and think what you owe. While I enjoyed - carnal joy with you, many people were uncertain whether I acted from - love or lust. Now the end makes clear the beginning; I have cut myself - off from pleasure to obey thy will. I have kept nothing, save to be - more than ever thine. Think how wicked it were in thee where all the - more is due to render less, nothing almost; especially when little is - asked, and that so easy for you. In the name of God to whom you have - vowed yourself, give me that of thee which is possible, the - consolation of a letter. I promise, thus refreshed, to serve God more - readily. When of old you would call me to pleasures, you sought me - with frequent letters, and never failed with thy songs to keep thy - Heloïse on every tongue; the streets, the houses re-echoed me. How - much fitter that you should now incite me to God than then to lust? - Bethink thee what thou owest; heed what I ask; and a long letter I - will conclude with a brief ending: farewell only one!" - -Remarks upon this letter would seem to profane a shrine--had the man -profaned that shrine? He had not always worshipped there. Heloïse knew -this, for all her love. She said it too, writing in phraseology which had -been brutalized through the denouncing spirit of Latin monasticism. How -truly she puts the situation and how clearly she thinks withal, discerning -as it were the beautiful and true in love and marriage. The whole letter -is well arranged, and written in a style showing the writer's training in -Latin mediaeval rhetoric. It was not the less deeply felt because composed -with care and skill. Evidently the writer is of the Middle Ages; her -occasional prolixity was not of her sex but of her time; and she quotes -the ancients so naturally; what they say should be convincing. How the -letter bares the motives of her own conduct: not for God's sake, or the -kingdom of heaven's sake, but for Abaelard's sake she became a nun. She -had no inclination thereto; her letters do not indicate that she ever -became really and spontaneously devoted to her calling. Abaelard was her -God, and as her God she held him to the end; though she applied herself to -the consideration of religious topics, as we shall see. Moreover, her -position as nun and abbess could not fail to force such topics on her -consideration. - -Is there another such love-letter, setting forth a situation so -triple-barred and hopeless? And the love which fills the letter, which -throbs and burns in it, which speaks and argues in it, how absolute is -this love. It is love carried out to its full conclusions; it includes the -whole woman and the whole of her life; whatever lies beyond its ken and -care is scorned and rejected. This love is extreme in its humility, and -yet realizes its own purity and worth; it is grieved at the thought of -rousing a feeling baser than itself. Heloïse had been and still was -Heloïse, devoted and self-sacrificing in her love. But the situation has -become torture; her heart is filled with all manner of pain, old and new, -till it is driven to assert its right at least to consolation. Thus -Heloïse's love becomes insistent and requiring. Was it possibly burdensome -to the man who now might wish to think no more of passion? who might wish -no longer to be loved in that way? In his reply Abaelard does not unveil -himself; he seems to take an attitude which may have been the most -faithful expression that he could devise of his changed self. - - "To Heloïse his beloved sister in Christ, Abaelard her brother in the - Same." - -This superscription was a gentle reminder of their present -relationship--in Christ. The writer begins: his not having written since -their conversion was to be ascribed not to his negligence, but to his -confidence in her wisdom; he did not think that she who, so full of grace, -had consoled her sister nuns when prioress, could as abbess need teaching -or exhortation for the guidance of her daughters; but if, in her humility, -she felt the need of his instruction in matters pertaining to God, she -might write, and he would answer, as the Lord should grant. Thanks be to -God who had filled their hearts--hers and her nuns--with solicitude for -his perils, and had made them participators in his afflictions; through -their prayers the divine pity had protected him. He had hastened to send -the Psalter, requested by his sister, formerly dear to him in the world -and now most dear in Christ, to assist their prayers. The potency of -prayer, with God and the saints, and especially the prayer of women for -those dear to them, is frequently declared in Scripture; he cites a number -of passages to prove it. May these move her to pray for him. He refers -with affectionate gratitude to the prayers which the nuns had been -offering for him, and encloses a short prayer for his safety, which he -begs and implores may be used in their daily canonical hours. If the Lord, -however, delivers him into the hands of his enemies to kill him, or if he -meet his death in any way, he begs that his body may be brought to the -Paraclete for burial, so that the sight of his sepulchre may move his -daughters and sisters in Christ to pray for him; no place could be so safe -and salutary for the soul of one bitterly repenting of his sins, as that -consecrated to the true Paraclete--the Comforter; nor could fitter -Christian burial be found than among women devoted by their vows to -Christ. He begs that the great solicitude which they now have for his -bodily safety, they will then have for the salvation of his soul, and by -the suffrage of their prayer for the dead man show how they had loved him -when alive. The letter closes, not with a personal word to Heloïse, but -with this distich: - - "Vive, vale, vivantque tuae valeantque sorores, - Vivite, sed Christo, quaeso, mei memores." - -Thus as against Heloïse's beseeching love, Abaelard lifted his hands, -palms out, repelling it. His letter ignored all that filled the soul and -the letter of Heloïse. His reply did not lack words of spiritual -affection, and its tone was not as formal then as it now seems. When -Abaelard asked for the prayers of Heloïse and her nuns, he meant it; he -desired the efficacy of their prayers. Then he wished to be buried among -them. We are touched by this; but, again, Abaelard meant it, as he said, -for his soul's welfare; it was no love sentiment. The letter stirred the -heart of Heloïse to a rebellious outcry against the cruelty of God, if not -of Abaelard, a soul's cry against life and the calm attitude of one who no -longer was--or at least meant to be no longer--what he had been to her. - - "To her only one, next to Christ, his only one in Christ. - - "I wonder, my only one, that contrary to epistolary custom and the - natural order of things, in the salutation of your letter you have - placed me before you, a woman before a man, a wife before a husband, a - servant before her lord, a nun before a monk and priest, a deaconess - before an abbot. The proper order is for one writing to a superior to - put his own name last, but when writing to an inferior, the writer's - name should precede. We also marvelled, that where you should have - afforded us consolation, you added to our desolation, and excited the - tears you should have quieted. How could we restrain our tears when - reading what you wrote towards the end: 'If the Lord shall deliver me - into the hand of my enemies to slay me'! Dearest, how couldst thou - think or say that? May God never forget His handmaids, to leave them - living when you are no more! May He never allot to us that life, which - would be harder than any death! It is for you to perform our obsequies - and commend our souls to God, and send before to God those whom you - have gathered for Him--that you may have no further anxiety, and - follow us the more gladly because assured of our safety. Refrain, my - lord, I beg, from making the miserable most miserable with such words; - destroy not our life before we die. 'Sufficient unto the day is the - evil thereof'--and that day will come to all with bitterness enough. - 'What need,' says Seneca, 'to add to evil, and destroy life before - death?' - - "Thou askest, only one, that, in the event of thy death when absent - from us, we should have thy body brought to our cemetery, in order - that, being always in our memory, thou shouldst obtain greater benefit - from our prayers. Did you think that your memory could slip from us? - How could we pray, with distracted minds? What use of tongue or reason - would be left to us? When the mind is crazed against God it will not - placate Him with prayer so much as irritate Him with complaints. We - could only weep, pressing to follow rather than bury you. How could we - live after we had lost our life in you? The thought of your death is - death to us; what would be the actuality? God grant we shall not have - to pay those rites to one from whom we look for them; may we go before - and not follow! A heart crushed with grief is not calm, nor is a mind - tossed by troubles open to God. Do not, I beg, hinder the divine - service to which we are dedicated. - - "What remains of hope for me when thou art gone? Or what reason to - continue in this pilgrimage, where I have no solace save thee? and of - thee I have but the bare knowledge that thou dost live, since thy - restoring presence is not granted me. Oh!--if it is right to say - it--how cruel has God been to me! Inclement Clemency! Fortune has - emptied her quiver against me, so that others have nothing to fear! If - indeed a single dart were left, no place could be found in me for a - new wound. Fortune fears only lest I escape her tortures by death. - Wretched and unhappy! in thee I was lifted above all women; in thee am - I the more fatally thrown down. What glory did I have in thee! what - ruin have I now! Fortune made me the happiest of women that she might - make me the most miserable. The injury was the more outrageous in that - all ways of right were broken. While we were abandoned to love's - delights, the divine severity spared us. When we made the forbidden - lawful and by marriage wiped out fornication's stains, the Lord's - wrath broke on us, impatient of an unsullied bed when it long had - borne with one defiled. A man taken in adultery would have been amply - punished by what came to you. What others deserved for adultery, that - you got from the marriage which you thought had made amends for - everything. Adulteresses bring their paramours what your own wife - brought you. Not when we lived for pleasure, but when, separated, we - lived in chastity, you presiding at the Paris schools, I at thy - command dwelling with the nuns at Argenteuil; you devoted to study, I - to prayer and holy reading; it was then that you alone paid the - penalty for what we had done together. Alone you bore the punishment, - which you deserved less than I. When you had humiliated yourself and - elevated me and all my kin, you little merited that punishment either - from God or from those traitors. Miserable me, begotten to cause such - a crime! O womankind ever the ruin of the noblest men![4] - - "Well the Tempter knows how easy is man's overthrow through a wife. He - cast his malice over us, and the man whom he could not throw down - through fornication, he tried with marriage, using a good to bring - about an evil where evil means had failed. I thank God at least for - this, that the Tempter did not draw me to assent to that which became - the cause of the evil deed. Yet, although in this my mind absolves me, - too many sins had gone before to leave me guiltless of that crime. For - long a servant of forbidden joys, I earned the punishment which I now - suffer of past sins. Let the evil end be attributed to ill beginnings! - May my penitence be meet for what I have done, and may long remorse in - some way compensate for the penalty you suffered! What once you - suffered in the body, may I through contrition bear to the end of - life, that so I may make satisfaction to thee if not to God. To - confess the infirmities of my most wretched soul, I can find no - penitence to offer God, whom I never cease to accuse of utter cruelty - towards you. Rebellious to His rule, I offend Him with indignation - more than I placate Him with penitence. For that cannot be called the - sinner's penitence where, whatever be the body's suffering, the mind - retains the will to sin and still burns with the same desires. It is - easy in confession to accuse oneself of sins, and also to do penance - with the body; but hard indeed to turn the heart from the desire of - its greatest joys![5] Love's pleasures, which we knew together, cannot - be made displeasing to me nor driven from my memory. Wherever I turn, - they press upon me, nor do they spare my dreams. Even in the solemn - moments of the Mass, when prayer should be the purest, their phantoms - catch my soul. When I should groan for what I have done, I sigh for - what I have lost. Not only our acts, but times and places stick fast - in my mind, and my body quivers. O truly wretched me, fit only to - utter this cry of the soul: 'Wretched that I am, who shall deliver me - from the body of this death?' Would I could add with truth what - follows:--'I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord.' Such - thanksgiving, dearest, may be thine, by one bodily ill cured of many - tortures of the soul, and God may have been merciful where He seemed - against you; like a good physician who does not spare the pain needed - to save life. But I am tortured with passion and the fires of memory. - They call me chaste, who do not know me for a hypocrite. They look - upon purity of the flesh as virtue--which is of the soul, not of the - body. Having some praise from men, I merit none from God, who knows - the heart. I am called religious at a time when most religion is - hypocrisy, and when whoever keeps from offence against human law is - praised. Perhaps it seems praiseworthy and acceptable to God, through - decent conduct,--whatever the intent--to avoid scandalizing the Church - or causing the Lord's name to be blasphemed or the religious Order - discredited. Perhaps it may be of grace just to abstain from evil. But - the Scripture says, 'Refrain from evil and do good'; and vainly he - attempts either who does not act from love of God. God knows that I - have always feared to offend thee more than I feared to offend Him; - and have desired to please thee rather than Him. Thy command, not the - divine love, put on me this garb of religion. What a wretched life I - lead if I vainly endure all this here and am to have no reward - hereafter. My hypocrisy has long deceived you, as it has others, and - therefore you desire my prayers. Have no such confidence; I need your - prayers; do not withdraw their aid. Do not take away the medicine, - thinking me whole. Do not cease to think me needy; do not think me - strong; do not delay your help. Cease from praising me, I beg. No one - versed in medicine will judge of inner disease from outward view. Thy - praise is the more perilous because I love it, and desire to please - thee always. Be fearful rather than confident regarding me, so that I - may have the help of your care. Do not seek to spur me on, by quoting, - 'For strength is made perfect in weakness,' or 'He is not crowned - unless he have contended lawfully.' I am not looking for the crown of - victory; enough for me to escape peril;--safer to shun peril than to - wage war! In whatever little corner of heaven God puts me, that will - satisfy me. Hear what Saint Jerome says: 'I confess my weakness; I do - not wish to fight for the hope of victory, lest I lose.' Why give up - certainties to follow the uncertain?" - -This letter gives a view of Heloïse's mind, its strong grasp and its -capacity for reasoning, though its reasoning is here distraught with -passion. Scathingly, half-blinded by her pain, she declares the -perversities of Providence, as they glared upon her. Such a disclosure of -the woman's mind suggests how broadly based in thought and largely reared -was that great love into which her whole soul had been poured, the mind as -well as heart. Her love was great, unique, not only from its force of -feeling, but from the power and scope of thought by which passion and -feeling were carried out so far and fully to the last conclusions of -devotion. The letter also shows a woman driven by stress of misery to -utter cries and clutch at remedies that her calmer self would have put -by. It is not hypocrisy to conceal the desires or imaginings which one -would never act upon. To tell these is not true disclosure of oneself, but -slander. Torn by pain, Heloïse makes herself more vile and needy than in -other moments she knew herself to be. Yet the letter also uncovers her, -and in nakedness there is some truth. Doubtless her nun's garb did clothe -a hypocrite. Whatever she felt--and here we see the worst she felt--before -the world she had to act the nun. We shall soon see how she forced herself -to act, or be, the nun toward Abaelard. - -Abaelard replied in a letter filled with religious argument and -consolation. It was self-controlled, firm, authoritative, and strong in -those arguments regarding God's mercy which have stood the test of time. -If they sometimes fail to satisfy the embittered soul, at least they are -the best that man has known. And withal, the letter is calmly and nobly -affectionate--what place was there for love's protestations? They would -have increased the evil, adding fuel to Heloïse's passionate misery. - -The master-note is struck in the address: "To the spouse of Christ, His -servant." The letter seeks to turn Heloïse's thoughts to her nun's calling -and her soul's salvation. It divides her expressions of complaint under -four heads. First, he had put her name first, because she had become his -superior from the moment of her bridal with his master Christ. Jerome -writing to Eustochium called her Lady, when she had become the spouse of -Jerome's Lord. Abaelard shows, with citations from the Song of Songs, the -glory of the spouse, and how her prayers should be sought by one who was -the servant of her Husband. Second, as to the terrors roused in her by his -mention of his peril and possible death, he points out that in her first -letter she had bidden him write of those perils; if they brought him -death, she should deem that a kind release. She should not wish to see his -miseries drawn out, even for her sake. Third, he shows that his praise of -her was justified even by her disclaimer of merit--as it is written, Who -humbles himself shall be exalted. He warns her against false modesty which -may be vanity. - -He turns at last to the old and ceaseless plaint which she makes against -God for cruelty, when she should rather glorify Him; he had thought that -that bitterness had departed, so dangerous for her, so painful to him. If -she wished to please him, let her lay it aside; retaining it, she could -not please him or advance with him to blessedness; let her have this much -religion, not to separate herself from him hastening to God; let her take -comfort in their journeying to the same goal. He then shows her that his -punishment was just as well as merciful; he had deserved it from God and -also from Fulbert. If she will consider, she will see in it God's justice -and His mercy; God had saved them from shipwreck; had raised a barrier -against shame and lust. For himself the punishment was purification, not -privation; will not she, as his inseparable comrade, participate in the -workings of this grace, even as she shared the guilt and its pardon? Once -he had thought of binding her to him in wedlock; but God found a means to -turn them both to Him; and the Lord was continuing His mercy towards her, -causing her to bring forth spiritual daughters, when otherwise she would -only have borne children in the flesh; in her the curse of Eve is turned -to the blessing of Mary. God had purified them both; whom God loveth He -correcteth. Oh! let her thoughts dwell with the Son of God, seized, -dragged, beaten, spit upon, crowned with thorns, hung on a vile cross. Let -her think of Him as her spouse, and for Him let her make lament; He bought -her with himself, He loved her. In comparison with His love, his own -(Abaelard's) was lust, seeking the pleasure it could get from her. If he, -Abaelard, had suffered for her, it was not willingly nor for her sake, as -Christ had suffered, and for her salvation. Let her weep for Him who made -her whole, not for her corrupter; for her Redeemer, not for her defiler; -for the Lord who died for her, not for the living servant, himself just -freed from the death. Let his sister accept with patience what came to her -in mercy from Him who wounded the body to save the soul. - - "We are one in Christ, as through marriage we were one flesh. Whatever - is thine is not alien to me. Christ is thine, because thou art His - spouse. And now thou hast me for a servant, who formerly was thy - master--a servant united to thee by spiritual love. I trust in thy - pleading with Him for such defence as my own prayers may not obtain. - That nothing may hinder this petition I have composed this prayer, - which I send thee: 'O God, who formed woman from the side of man and - didst sanction the sacrament of marriage; who didst bestow upon my - frailty a cure for its incontinence; do not despise the prayers of thy - handmaid, and the prayers which I pour out for my sins and those of my - dear one. Pardon our great crimes, and may the enormity of our faults - find the greatness of thy ineffable mercy. Punish the culprits in the - present; spare, in the future. Thou hast joined us, Lord, and hast - divided us, as it pleased thee. Now complete most mercifully what thou - hast begun in mercy; and those whom thou hast divided in this world, - join eternally in heaven, thou who art our hope, our portion, our - expectation, our consolation, Lord blessed forever. Amen.' - - "Farewell in Christ, spouse of Christ; in Christ farewell and in - Christ live. Amen." - -In her next letter Heloïse obeys, and turns her pen if not her thoughts to -the topics suggested by Abaelard's admonitions. The short scholastically -phrased address cannot be rendered in any modern fashion: "Domino -specialiter sua singulariter." - - "That you may have no further reason to call me disobedient, your - command shall bridle the words of unrestrained grief; in writing I - will moderate my language, which I might be unable to do in speech. - Nothing is less in our power than our heart; which compels us to obey - more often than it obeys us. When our affections goad us, we cannot - keep the sudden impulse from breaking out in words; as it is written, - 'From the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh.' So I will withhold - my hand from writing whenever I am unable to control my words. Would - that the sorrowing heart were as ready to obey as the hand that - writes! You can afford some remedy to grief, even when unable to - dispel it quite. As one nail driven in drives out another, a new - thought pushes away its predecessor, and the mind is freed for a time. - A thought, moreover, takes the mind up and leads it from others more - effectually, if the subject of the thought is excellent and of great - importance." - -The rest of this long letter shows Heloïse putting her principles in -practice. She is forcing her mind to consider and her pen to discourse -upon topics which might properly occupy an abbess's thoughts--topics, -moreover, which would satisfy Abaelard and call forth long letters in -reply. Whether she cared really for these matters or ever came to care -for them; or whether she turned to them to distract her mind and keep up -some poor makeshift of intercourse with one who would and could no longer -be her lover; or whether all these motives mingled, and in what -proportion, perhaps may best be left to Him who tries the heart. - -The abbess writes: - - "All of us here, servants of Christ and thy daughters, make two - requests of thy fathership which we deem most needful. The one is, - that you would instruct us concerning the origins of the order of nuns - and the authority for our calling. The other is, that you would draw - up a written _regula_, suitable for women, which shall prescribe and - set the order and usages of our convent. We do not find any adequate - _regula_ for women among the works of the holy Fathers. It is a - manifest defect in monastic institutions that the same rules should be - imposed upon both monks and nuns, and that the weaker sex should bear - the same monastic yoke as the stronger." - -Heloïse, having set this task for Abaelard, proceeds to show how the -various monastic _regulae_, from Benedict's downward, failed to make -suitable provision for the habits and requirements and weaknesses of -women, the _regulae_ hitherto having been concerned with the weaknesses of -men. She enters upon matters of clothing and diet, and everything -concerning the lives of nuns. She writes as one learned in Scripture and -the writings of the Fathers, and sets the whole matter forth, in its -details, with admirable understanding of its intricacies. She concludes, -reminding Abaelard that it is for him in his lifetime to set a _regula_ -for them to follow forever; after God, he is their founder. They might -thereafter have some teacher who would build in alien fashion; such a one -might have less care and understanding, and might not be as readily obeyed -as himself; it is for him to speak, and they will listen. _Vale._ - -The first of Heloïse's letters is a great expression of a great love; in -the second, anguish drives the writer's hand; in the third, she has gained -self-control; she suppresses her heart, and writes a letter which is -discursive and impersonal from the beginning to the little _Vale_ at the -end. - -Abaelard returned a long epistle upon the Scriptural origin of the order -of nuns, and soon followed it with another, still longer, containing -instruction, advice, and rules for the nuns of the Paraclete. He also -wrote them a letter upon the study of Scripture. From this time forth he -proved his devotion to Heloïse and her nuns by the large body of writings -which he composed for their edification. Heloïse sent him a long list of -questions upon obscure phrases and knotty points of Scripture, which he -answered diligently in detail.[6] He then sent her a collection of hymns -written or "rearranged" by himself for the use of the nuns, accompanied by -a prefatory letter: "At thy prayers, my sister Heloïse, once dear to me in -the world, now most dear in Christ, I have composed what in Greek are -called hymns, and in Hebrew _tillim_." He then explains why, yielding to -the requests of the nuns, he had written hymns, of which the Church had -such a store. - -Next he composed for them a large volume of sermons, which he also sent -with a letter to Heloïse: "Having completed the book of hymns and -sequences, revered in Christ and loved sister Heloïse, I have hastened to -compose some sermons for your congregation; I have paid more attention to -the meaning than the language. But perhaps an unstudied style is well -suited to simple auditors. In composing and arranging these sermons I have -followed the order of Church festivals. Farewell in the Lord, servant of -His, once dear to me in the world, now most dear in Christ: in the flesh -then my wife, now my sister in the spirit and partner in our sacred -calling." - -At a subsequent period, when his opinions were condemned by the Council of -Sens, he sent to Heloïse a confession of faith. Shortly afterward his -stormy life found a last refuge in the monastery of Cluny. His closing -years (of peace?) are described in a letter to Heloïse from the good and -revered abbot, Peter the Venerable. He writes that he had received with -joy the letter which her affection had dictated,[7] and now took the first -opportunity to express his recognition of her affection and his reverence -for herself. He refers to her keenly prosecuted studies (so rare for -women) before taking the veil, and then to the glorious example of her -sage and holy life in the nun's sacred calling--her victory over the proud -Prince of this World. His admiration for her was deep; his expression of -it was extreme. A learned, wise, and holy woman could not be praised more -ardently than Heloïse is praised by this good man. He had spoken of the -advantages his monastery would have derived from her presence, and then -continued: - - "But although God's providence denied us this, it was granted us to - enjoy the presence of him--who was yours--Master Peter Abaelard, a man - always to be spoken of with honour as a true servant of Christ and a - philosopher. The divine dispensation placed him in Cluny for his last - years, and through him enriched our monastery with treasure richer - than gold. No brief writing could do justice to his holy, humble, and - devoted life among us. I have not seen his equal in humility of garb - and manner. When in the crowd of our brethren I forced him to take a - first place, in meanness of clothing he appeared as the last of all. - Often I marvelled, as the monks walked past me, to see a man so great - and famous thus despise and abase himself. He was abstemious in food - and drink, refusing and condemning everything beyond the bare - necessities. He was assiduous in study, frequent in prayer, always - silent unless compelled to answer the question of some brother or - expound sacred themes before us. He partook of the sacrament as often - as possible. Truly his mind, his tongue, his act, taught and - exemplified religion, philosophy, and learning. So he dwelt with us, a - man simple and righteous, fearing God, turning from evil, consecrating - to God the latter days of his life. At last, because of his bodily - infirmities, I sent him to a quiet and salubrious retreat on the banks - of the Saone. There he bent over his books, as long as his strength - lasted, always praying, reading, writing, or dictating. In these - sacred exercises, not sleeping but watching, he was found by the - heavenly Visitor; who summoned him to the eternal wedding-feast not as - a foolish but as a wise virgin, bearing his lamp filled with oil--the - consciousness of a holy life. When he came to pay humanity's last - debt, his illness was brief. With holy devotion he made confession of - the Catholic Faith, then of his sins. The brothers who were with him - can testify how devoutly he received the viaticum of that last - journey, and with what fervent faith he commended his body and soul to - his Redeemer. Thus this master, Peter, completed his days. He who was - known throughout the world by the fame of his teaching, entered the - school of Him who said, 'Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of - heart'; and continuing meek and lowly he passed to Him, as we may - believe. - - "Venerable and dearest sister in the Lord, the man who was once joined - to thee in the flesh, and then by the stronger chain of divine love, - him in thy stead, or as another thee, the Lord holds in His bosom; and - at the day of His coming, His grace will restore him to thee." - -The abbot afterwards visited the Paraclete, and on returning to Cluny -received this letter from the abbess: - - "God's mercy visiting us, we have been visited by the favour of your - graciousness. We are glad, kindest father, and we glory that your - greatness condescended to our insignificance. A visit from you is an - honour even to the great. The others may know the great benefit they - received from the presence of your highness. I cannot tell in words, - or even comprehend in thought, how beneficial and how sweet your - coming was to me. You, our abbot and our lord, celebrated mass with us - the sixteenth of the Calends of last December; you commended us to the - Holy Spirit; you nourished us with the Divine Word;--you gave us the - body of the master, and confirmed that gift from Cluny. To me also, - unworthy to be your servant, though by word and letter you have called - me sister, you gave as a pledge of sincere love the privilege of a - Tricenarium, to be performed by the brethren of Cluny, after my death, - for the benefit of my soul. You have promised to confirm this under - your seal. May you fulfil this, my lord. Might it please you also to - send to me that other sealed roll, containing the absolution of the - master, that I may hang it on his tomb. Remember also, for the love of - God, our--and your--Astralabius, to obtain for him a prebend from the - bishop of Paris or another. Farewell. May God preserve you, and grant - to us sometime your presence." - -The good abbot replied with a kind and affectionate letter, confirming his -gift of the Tricenarium, promising to do all he could for Astralabius, and -sending with his letter the record of Abaelard's absolution, as follows: - - "I, Peter, Abbot of Cluny, who received Peter Abaelard to be a monk in - Cluny, and granted his body, secretly transported, to the Abbess - Heloïse and the nuns of the Paraclete, absolve him, in the performance - of my office (_pro officio_) by the authority of the omnipotent God - and all the saints, from all his sins." - -Abaelard died in the year 1142, aged sixty-three. Twenty-one years -afterward Heloïse died at the same age, and was buried in the same tomb -with him at the Paraclete: - - "Hoc tumulo abbatissa jacet prudens Heloïssa." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -GERMAN CONSIDERATIONS: WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE - - -A criticism of the world of feudalism, chivalry, and love may be had from -the impressions and temperamental reactions of a certain thinking atom -revolving in the same. The atom referred to was Walther von der -Vogelweide, a German, a knight, a Minnesinger, and a national poet whose -thoughts were moved by the instincts of his caste and race. - -In language, temperament, and character, the Germans east of the Rhine -were Germans still in the thirteenth century. They had accepted, and even -vitally appropriated, Latin Christianity; those of them who were educated -had received a Latin education. Yet their natures, though somewhat -tempered, showed largely and distinctly German. Moreover, through the -centuries, they had acquired--or rather they had never lost--a national -antipathy toward those Roman papal well-springs of authority, which seemed -to suck back German gold and lands in return for spiritual assurance and -political betrayal. - -A different and already mediaevalized element had also become part of -German culture, to wit, the matter of the French Arthurian romances and -the lyric fashions of Provence, which, working together, had captivated -modish German circles from the Rhine to the Danube. Nevertheless the -German character maintained itself in the _Minnelieder_ which followed -Provençal poetry, and in the _höfisch_ (courtly) epics which were palpable -translations from the French.[8] The distinguished group of German poets -whose lives fall around the year 1200, were as German as their language, -although they borrowed from abroad the form and matter of their -compositions. - -There could be no better Germans than the two most thoughtful of this -group, Wolfram von Eschenbach and Walther von der Vogelweide. Most -Germanically the former wrestled with that ancient theme, "from suffering, -wisdom," which he pressed into the tale of _Parzival_. His great poem, -achieved with toil and sweat, was mighty in its climaxes, and fit to -strengthen the hearts of those men who through sorrow and loneliness and -despair's temptations were growing "slowly wise." - -The virtues which Wolfram praised and embodied in his hero were those -praised in the verses, and even, one may think, strugglingly exemplified -in the conduct, of Walther von der Vogelweide,[9] most famous of -Minnesingers, and a power in the German lands through his _Sprüche_, or -verses personal and political. Less is known of his life than of his whole -and manly views, his poetic fancies, his musings, his hopes, and great -depressions. Many places have claimed the honour of his birth, which took -place somewhat before 1170. He was poor, and through his youth and manhood -moved about from castle to castle, and from court to court, seeking to win -some recompense for his excellent verses and good company. Thus he learned -much of men, "climbing another's stairs," with his fellows, at the -Landgraf Hermann's Wartburg, or at the Austrian ducal Court. - -Walther's _Sprüche_ render his moods most surely, and reflect his outlook -on the world. His charming _Minnelieder_ bear more conventional evidence. -The courtly German love-songs passing by this name were affected by the -conceits and conventions of the Provençal poetry upon which they were -modelled. A strong nature might use such with power, or break with their -influence. Walther made his own the high convention of trouvère and -troubadour, that love uplifts the lover's being. Besides this, and besides -the lighter forms and phrases current in such poetry, his _Lieder_ carry -natural feeling, joy, and moral levity, according to the theme; they also -may express Walther's convictions. - -To take examples: Walther's _Tagelied_[10] imitates the Provençal _alba_ -(dawn), in which knight and truant lady bewail the coming of the light and -the parting which it brings. Far more joyous, and as immoral as one -pleases, is _Unter der Linde_, most famous of his songs. Marvellously it -gives the mood of love's joy remembered--and anticipated too. The -immorality is complete (if we will be serious), and is rendered most -alluring by the utter gladness of the girl's song--no repentance, no -regret; only joy and roguish laughter. - -Walther was young, he was a knight and a Minnesinger; he had doubtless -loved, in this way! His love-songs have plenty to say of the red mouth, -good for kissing--I care not who knows it either. But he also realizes, -and greatly sings, the height and breadth and worth of love the true and -stable, the blessing and completion of two lives, which comes to a false -heart never.[11] He seems to feel it necessary to defend love for itself, -perhaps because _marriage_ was taken more seriously in this imitative -German literature than in the French and Provençal originals: "Who says -that love is sin, let him consider well. Many an honour dwells with her, -and troth and happiness. If one does ill to the other, love is grieved. I -do not mean false love; that were better named un-love. No friend of that, -am I." But his thoughts turn quickly to love as a lasting union: "He happy -man, she happy woman, whose hearts are to each other true; both lives -increased in price and worth; blessed their years and all their days."[12] - -Giving play to his caustic temper, Walther puts scorn upon the light of -love: "Fool he who cannot understand what joy and good, love brings. But -the light man is ever pleased with light things, as is fit!"[13] This -Minnesinger applied most earnest standards to life; lofty his praise of -the qualities of womanhood, which are better than beauty or riches: -"woman" is a higher word than "lady"[14]--it took a German to say this. -"He who carries hidden sorrow in his heart, let him think upon a good -woman--he is freed."[15] With a burst of patriotism, in one of his -greatest poems Walther praises German women as the best in all the -world.[16] - -But even in the _Minnelieder_, Walther has his despondencies. One of the -most definite, and possibly conventional, was regret for love's labour -lost, and the days of youth spent in service of an ungracious fair. The -poet wonders how it is that he who has helped other men is tongue-tied -before his lady. Again, his reflections broaden from thoughts of -unresponsive fair ones to a conviction of life's thanklessness. "I have -well served the World (_Frau Welt_, Society), and gladly would serve her -more, but for her evil thanks and her way of preferring fools to me.... -Come, World, give me better greeting--the loss is not all mine." He knows -his good unbending temper which will not endure to hear ill spoken of the -upright. But he thinks, what is the use? why speak so sweetly, why sing, -when virtue and beauty are so lightly held, and every one does evil, -fearing nought? The verse which carries these reflections is tossing in -the squally haven of Society; soon the poet will encounter the wild sea -without. Still from the windy harbour comes one grand lament over art's -decline: "The worst songs please, frogs' voices! Oh, I laugh from anger! -Lady World, no score of mine is on your devil's slate. Many a life of man -and woman have I made glad--might I so have gladdened mine! Here, I make -my Will, and bequeath my goods--to the envious my ill-luck, my sorrows to -the liars, my follies to false lovers, and to the ladies my heart's -pain."[17] He makes a solemn offering of his poems: "Good women, worthy -men, a loving greeting is my due. Forty years have I sung fittingly of -love; and now, take my songs which gladden, as my gift to you. Your favour -be my return. And with my staff I will fare on, still wooing worth with -undisheartened work, as from my childhood. So shall I be, in lowly lot, -one of the Noble--for me enough." - -To relish Walther's love-songs, one need not know whether she was dark or -fair, kept forest-tryst or listened by some castle's hearth, or in what -German land that castle stood. Likewise in his _Sprüche_, which have other -bearing, the roll of his protesting voice carries the universal human. To -comprehend them it were well to know that life was then as now niggardly -in rewarding virtue; beyond this, one needs to have the type-idea of the -Empire and the Papacy, those two powers which were set, somewhat -antagonistically, on the decree of God; both claiming the world's -headship; the one, Roman in tradition, but in strength and temper German, -and of this world decidedly. The other, Roman in the genius of its -organization, and Christian in its subordination of the life below to the -life to come, if not in the methods of establishing this consummation; -Christian too, but more especially mediaeval, in its formal disdain for -whatever belonged to earth. In Germany these two partial opposites were -further antagonized, since the native resources recoiled from the foreign -drain upon them, and the struggling patriotism of a broken land resented -the pressure of a state within and above the state of duke and king and -emperor. - -In Walther's time Innocent III. swayed the nations from Peter's throne. -Just before Innocent's accession, Germany's able emperor, Henry VI., died -suddenly in Sicily (September 1197), leaving an heir not two years old. -The queen-mother, dying the next year, bequeathed this child, Frederick, -to the paternal care of Innocent, his feudal as well as ghostly lord, -since the queen, for herself and child, had accepted the Pope as the -feudal suzerain of their kingdom of Sicily. In Germany (using that name -loosely and broadly) Philip Hohenstauffen, Henry's brother and Duke of -Suabia, claimed the throne. His unequal opponent was Otto of Brunswick, of -the ever-rebellious house of Henry the Lion. The Pope opposed the -Hohenstauffen; but was obliged to acknowledge him when the course of the -ten years of wasting civil war in Germany decided in his -favour--whereupon, alack! Philip was murdered (1207). Quickly the Pope -turned back to Otto; but the latter, after he had been crowned king and -emperor, became intolerable to Innocent through the compulsion of his -position as the head of an empire inherently hostile to the papacy. To -thwart him Innocent set up his own ward, Frederick. Soon this precocious -youth began to make head against pope-forsaken Otto; and then the -excommunicated emperor was overthrown in 1214 by Philip Augustus of -France, who had intervened in Frederick's favour. So Otto passed away, -and, some time after, Frederick was crowned German king at -Aix-la-Chapelle.[18] In the meanwhile Innocent died (1216), and amity -followed between Frederick and the gentle Honorius III., who crowned -Frederick emperor at Rome in 1220. This peace ended quickly when the -sterner Gregory IX. ascended the papal throne on the death of Honorius in -1227. - -Walther's life extended through these events. Though apparently changing -sides under the stress of his necessities, he was patriotically German to -the end. First he clave to the Hohenstauffen, Philip, as the true upholder -of German interests against Otto and the Pope. On Philip's death, he -turned to Otto; but with all the world left him at last for Frederick. It -is known that Walther, an easily angered man, felt himself ill-used by -Otto and justified in turning to the open-handed Frederick, who finally -gave him a small fief. To the last, Walther upheld him as Germany's -sovereign. Probably the poet died in the year 1228, just as Gregory was -succeeding Honorius, and the death-struggle of the Empire with the Papacy -was opening. - -With no light heart, as well may be imagined, had Walther looked about him -on the death of the emperor Henry in 1197. "I sat upon a rock, crossed -knee on knee, and with elbow so supported, chin on hand I leaned. -Anxiously I pondered. I could see no way to win gain without loss. Honour -and riches do not go hand in hand, both of less value than God's favour. -Would I have them all? Alas! riches and worldly honour and God's favour -come not within the closure of one heart's wishes. The ways are barred; -perfidy lurks in secret, and might walks the highroads. Peace and law are -wounded."[19] - -The personal dilemma of the poet with his fortune to make, but desirous of -doing right, mirrors the desperate situation of the State: "Woe is thee, -German tongue; ill stand thy order and thy honour!--I hear the lies of -Rome betraying two kings!" And in verses of wrath Walther inveighs against -the Pope. The sweeping nature of his denunciation raises the question -whether he merely attacked the supposed treachery of the reigning pope, or -was opposed to the papacy as an institution hostile to the German nation. - -The answer is not clear. Mediaeval denunciations of the Church range from -indictments of particular abuses, on through more general invectives, to -the clear protests of heretics impugning the ecclesiastical system. It is -not always easy to ascertain the speaker's meaning. Usually the abuse and -not the system is attacked. Hostility to the latter, however sweeping the -language of satirist or preacher, is not lightly to be inferred. The -invectives of St. Bernard and Damiani are very broad; but where had the -Church more devoted sons? Even the satirists composing in Old French -rarely intended an assault upon her spiritual authority. It would seem as -if, at least in the Romance countries, one must look for such hostility to -heretical circles, the Waldenses for example. And from the orthodox -mediaeval standpoint, this was their most accursed heresy. - -It would have been hard for any German to use broader language than some -of the French satirists and Latin castigators. If there was a difference, -it must be sought in the specific matter of the German disapproval viewed -in connection with the political situation. Was a position ever taken -incompatible with the Church's absolute spiritual authority? or one -intrinsically irreconcilable with the secular power of the papacy? At any -time, in any country, papal claims might become irreconcilable with the -royal prerogative--as William the Conqueror had held those of Gregory VII. -in England, and as, two centuries afterwards, Philip the Fair was to hold -those of Boniface VIII. in France. But in neither case was there such -sheer and fundamental antagonism as men felt to exist between the Empire -and the Papacy. Perhaps it was possible in the early thirteenth century -for a German whose whole heart was on the German side to dispute even the -sacerdotal principle of papal authority. It is hard to judge otherwise of -Freidank, the very German composer or collector of trenchant sayings in -the early thirteenth century. Many of these sneer at Rome and the Pope, -and some of them strike the gist of the matter: "Sunde nieman mac vergeben -wan Got alein" ("God alone can forgive sins"). This is the direct -statement; he gives its scornful converse: "Could the Pope absolve me from -my oaths and duties, I'd let other sureties go and fasten to him -alone."[20] Such words mean denial of the Church's authority to forgive, -and the Pope's to grant absolution from oaths of allegiance. Freidank is -very near rejecting the principles of the ecclesiastical system. - -Walther, Freidank's contemporary, is more picturesque: "King Constantine, -he gave so much--as I will tell you--to the Chair of Rome: spear, cross, -and crown. At once the angels cried: 'Alas! Alas! Alas! Christendom before -stood crowned with righteousness. Now is poison fallen on her, and her -honey turned to gall--sad for the world henceforth!' To-day the princes -all live in honour; only their highest languishes--so works the priest's -election. Be that denounced to thee, sweet God! The priests would upset -laymen's rights: true is the angels' prophecy."[21] - -On Constantine's apocryphal gift, symbolized by the emblems of Christ's -passion, rested the secular authority of the popes, which Walther laments -with the angels. "The Chair of Rome was first set up by Sorcerer Gerbert! -[Queer history this, but we see what he means.] He destroyed his own soul -only; but this one would bring down Christendom with him to perdition. -When will all tongues call Heaven to arms, and ask God how long He will -sleep? They bring to nought His work, distort His Word. His steward steals -His treasure; His judge robs here and murders there; His shepherd has -become a wolf among His sheep."[22] The clergy point their fingers -heavenward while they travel fast to hell.[23] How laughs the Pope at us, -when at home with his Italians, at the way he empties our German pockets -into his "poor boxes."[24] Walther's hatred of the foreign Pope is roused -at every point. And at last, in a _Spruch_ full of implied meaning, he -declares that Christ's word as to the tribute money meant that the emperor -should receive his royal due.[25] - -These utterances, considered in the light of the political and racial -situation, seem to deny, at least implicitly, the secular power of the -papacy. Yet in matters of religion Walther apparently was entirely -orthodox, and a pious Christian. He has left a sweet prayer to Christ, -with ample recognition of the angels and the saints, and a beautiful verse -of penitent contrition, in which he confesses his sins to God very -directly--how that he does the wrong, and leaves the right, and fails in -love of neighbour. "Father, Son, may thy Spirit lighten mine; how may I -love him who does me ill? Ever dear to me is he who treats me well!"[26] -Walther's questing spirit also pondered over God's greatness and -incomprehensibility.[27] His open mind is shown by the famous line: "Him -(God) Christians, Jews, and heathen serve,"[28] a breadth of view shared -by his friend Wolfram von Eschenbach, who speaks of the chaste virtue of a -heathen lady as equal to baptism.[29] - -The personal lot of this proud heart was not an easy one; homelessness -broke him down, and the bitterness of eating others' bread. Too well had -he learned of the world and all its changing ways, and how poor becomes -the soul that follows them. Mortality is a trite sorrow; there are worse: -"We all complain that the old die and pass away; rather let us lament -taints of another hue, that troth and seemliness and honour are -dead."[30] At the last Walther's grey memory of life and his vainly -yearning hope took form in a great elegy. After long years he seemed, with -heavy steps, and leaning on his wanderer's staff, to be returning to a -home which was changed forever: "Alas! whither are they vanished, my many -years! Did I dream my life, or is it real? what I once deemed it, was it -that? And now I wake, and all the things and people once familiar, -strange! My playmates, dull and old! And the fields changed; only that the -streams still flow as then they flowed, my heart would break with thinking -on the glad days, vanished in the sea. And the young people! slow and -mirthless! and the knights go clad as peasants! Ah! Rome! thy ban! Our -groans have stilled the song of birds. Fool I, to speak and so -despair,--and the earth looks fair! Up knights again: your swords, your -armour! would to God I might fare with your victor band, and gain my pay -too--not in lands of earth! Oh! might I win the eternal crown from that -sweet voyage beyond the sea, then would I sing O joy! and never more, -alas--never more, alas."[31] - - - - -BOOK V - -SYMBOLISM - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -SCRIPTURAL ALLEGORIES IN THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES; HONORIUS OF AUTUN - - -Words, pictures, and other vehicles of expression are symbols of whatever -they are intended to designate. A certain unavoidable symbolism also -inheres in human mental processes; for the mind in knowing "turns itself -to images," as Aquinas says following Aristotle; and every statement or -formulation is a casting together of data in some presentable and -representative form. An example is the Apostles' Creed, called also by -this very name of Symbol, being a casting together, an elementary formula, -of the essentials of the Christian Faith. In the same sense the "law of -gravitation" or a moral precept is a deduction, induction, or gathering -together into a representative symbol, of otherwise unassembled and -uncorrelated experience. In the present and following chapters, however, -the term symbol will be used in its common acceptation to indicate a -thing, an act, or a word invested with an adventitious representative -significance. All statements or expressions (through language or by means -of pictures) which are intended to carry, besides their palpable meaning, -another which is veiled and more spiritual, are symbolical or figurative, -and more specifically are called allegories.[32] - -These devices of the mind have a history as old as humanity. From -inscrutable beginnings, in time they become recognized as makeshifts; yet -they remain prone to enter new stages of confusion. The mind seeking to -express the transcendental, avails itself of symbols. All religions have -teemed with them, in their primitive phases scarcely distinguishing -between symbol and fact; then a difference becomes evident to -clearer-minded men, while perhaps at the same time others are elaborately -maintaining that the symbol magically is, or brings to pass, that which it -represents. Such obscuring mysticism existed not merely in confused Egypt -and Brahminical India, but everywhere--in antique Greece and Rome, and -then afterwards through the times of the Christian Church Fathers and the -entire Middle Ages. Fact and symbol are seen constantly closing together -and becoming each other like the serpent-souls in the twenty-fifth canto -of Dante's _Inferno_. - -Allegory properly speaking, which involves a conscious and sustained -effort to invest concrete or material statements with more general or -spiritual meaning, played an interesting rôle in epochs antecedent to the -patristic and mediaeval periods. Even before Plato's time the personal -myths of the gods shocked the Greek ethical intellect, which thereupon -proceeded to convert them into allegories. Greek allegorical -interpretation of ancient myth was apologetic to both the critical mind -and the moral sense. - -With Philo, the Hellenizing Jew of Alexandria, whose philosophy revolted -from the literal text of Genesis, the motive for allegorical -interpretation was similar. But the document before him was most unlike -the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_. Genesis contained no palpably immoral stories -of Jehovah to be explained away. Its account of divine creation and human -beginnings merely needed to be invested with further ethical meaning. So -Philo made cardinal virtues of the four rivers of Eden, and through like -allegorical conceits transformed the Book of Genesis into a system of -Hellenistic ethics. Not cosmogonic myths, but moral meanings, he had -discovered in his document. - -Advancing along the path which Philo found, Christian allegorical -interpretation undertook to substantiate the validity of the Gospel. To -this end it fixed special symbolical meanings upon the Old Testament -narratives, so as to make them into prefigurative testimonies to the truth -of Christian teachings.[33] Allegory was also called on to justify, as -against educated pagans, certain acts of that heroic but peccant "type" of -Christ, David, the son of Jesse. Such special apologetic needs hardly -affected the allegorical interpretation of the Gospel itself, which began -at an early day, and from the first was spiritual and anagogic, constantly -straining on to educe further salutary meaning from the text. - -The Greek and Latin Church Fathers created the mass of doctrine, including -Scriptural interpretation,[34] upon which mediaeval theologians were to -expend their systematizing and reconstructive labours. Through the Middle -Ages, the course of allegory and symbolism strikingly illustrates the -mediaeval way of using the patristic heritage--first painfully learning -it, then making it their own, and at last creating by means of that which -they had organically appropriated. Allegory and symbolism were to impress -the Middle Ages as perhaps no other element of their inheritance. The -mediaeval man thought and felt in symbols, and the sequence of his thought -moved as frequently from symbol to symbol as from fact to fact. - -The allegorical faculty with the Fathers was dogmatic and theological; -ingenious in devising useful interpretations, but oblivious to all -reasonable propriety in the meaning which it twisted into the text: -controversial necessities readily overrode the rational and moral -requirements of the "historical" or "literal" meaning. For the deeply -realized allegorical significance was a law unto itself. These -characteristics of patristic allegory passed over to the Middle Ages, -which in the course of time were to impress human qualities upon the -patristic material. - -The Bathsheba and Uriah episode in the life of David was of course taken -allegorically, and affords a curious example of a patristic interpretation -originating in the exigencies of controversy, and then becoming -authoritative for later periods when the echoes of the old controversy had -long been silent. Augustine was called upon to answer the book of the -clever Manichaean, Faustus, the stress of whose attacks was directed -against the Old Testament. Faustus declared that he did not blaspheme "the -law and the prophets," but rejected merely the special Hebrew customs and -the vile calumnies of the Old Testament writers, imputing shameful acts to -prophets and patriarchs. In his list of shocking narratives to be -rejected, was the story "that David after having had such a number of -wives, defiled the little woman of Uriah his soldier, and caused him to be -slain in battle."[35] - -Augustine responds with a general exclamation at the Manichaean's failure -to understand the sacramental symbols (_sacramenta_) of the Law and the -deeds of the prophets. He then speaks of certain Old Testament statements -regarding God and His demands, and proceeds to consider the nature of sin -and the questionable deeds of the prophets. Some of the reprehended deeds -he justifies, as, for instance, Abraham's intercourse with Hagar and his -deceit in telling Abimelech that Sara was his sister when she was his -wife. He also declares that Sara typifies the Church, which is the secret -spouse of Christ. Proceeding further, he does not justify, but palliates, -the conduct of Lot and his daughters, and then introduces its typological -significance. At length he comes to David. First he gives a noble estimate -of David's character, his righteousness, his liability to sin, and his -quick penitence.[36] Afterwards he considers, briefly as he says, what -David's sin with Bathsheba signifies prophetically.[37] The passage may be -given to show what a mixture of banality and disregard of moral propriety -in drawing analogies might emanate from the best mind among the Latin -Fathers, and be repeated by later transitional and mediaeval commentators. - - "The names themselves when interpreted indicate what this deed - prefigured. David is interpreted 'Strong of hand' or 'Desirable.' And - what is stronger than that Lion of the tribe of Judah that overcame - the world? and what is more desirable than him of whom the prophet - says: 'The desired of all nations shall come' (Hag. ii. 7)? Bathsheba - means 'well of satiety,' or 'seventh well.' Whichever of these - interpretations we adopt will suit. For in Canticles the Bride who is - the Church is called a well of living water (Cant. iv. 15); and to - this well the name of the seventh number is joined in the sense of - Holy Spirit; and this because of Pentecost (the fiftieth), the day on - which the Holy Spirit came. For that same festival is of the weeks - (_de septimanis constare_) as the Book of Tobit testifies. Then to - forty-nine, which is seven times seven, one is added, whereby unity is - commended. By this spiritual, that is 'Seven-natured' (_septenario_) - gift the Church is made a well of satiety; because there is made in - her a well of living water springing up unto everlasting life, which - whoso has shall never thirst (John iv. 14). Uriah, indeed, who had - been her husband, what but devil does his name signify? In whose - vilest wedlock all those were bound whom the grace of God sets free, - that the Church without spot or wrinkle may be married to her own - Saviour. For Uriah is interpreted, 'My light of God'; and Hittite - means 'cut off,' or he who does not stand in truth, but by the guilt - of pride is cut off from the supernal light which he had from God; or - it means, he who in falling away from his true strength which was - lost, nevertheless fashioneth himself into an angel of light (2 Cor. - xi. 14), daring to say: 'My light is of God.' Therefore this David - gravely and wickedly sinned; and God rebuked his crime through the - prophet with a threat; and he himself washed it away by repenting. Yet - likewise He, the desired of all nations, was enamoured of the Church - bathing upon the roof, that is cleansing herself from the filth of the - world, and in spiritual contemplation surmounting and trampling on her - house of clay; and knowledge of her having been had at their first - meeting, He afterwards killed the devil, apart from her, and joined - her to himself in perpetual marriage. Therefore we hate the sin but - will not quench the prophecy. Let us love that (_illum_) David, who is - so greatly to be loved, who through mercy freed us from the devil; and - let us also love that (_istum_) David who by the humility of penitence - healed in himself so deep a wound of sin."[38] - -Augustine's interpretation of the story of David and Bathsheba was -embodied verbatim in a work upon the Old Testament by Isidore of -Seville.[39] The voluminous commentator Rabanus Maurus took the same, also -verbatim, either from Isidore or Augustine.[40] His pupil, Walafrid -Strabo, in his famous _Glossa ordinaria_, cited, probably from Rabanus, -the first part of the passage as far as the reference to the well of -living water from John's Gospel. He abridged the matter somewhat, thus -showing the smoothing compiler's art which was to bring his _Glossa -ordinaria_ into such general use. Walafrid omitted the lines declaring -that Uriah signified the devil. He did cite, however, again probably from -Rabanus, part of a long passage, taken by Rabanus from Gregory the Great, -where Bathsheba is declared to be the letter of the Law, united to a -carnal people, which David (Christ) joins to himself in a spiritual sense. -Uriah is that carnal people, to wit, the Jews.[41] - -Thus far as to the comments on the narrative from the eleventh chapter of -the Second Book of Samuel, otherwise called the Second Book of Kings. When -Rabanus came to explain the sixth verse of the first chapter of -Matthew--"And David begat Solomon from her who was the wife of Uriah"--he -said: "Uriah indeed, that is interpreted 'My light of God,' signifies the -devil, who fashions himself into an angel of light, daring to say to God: -'My light of God,' and 'I will be like unto the Most High' (Isaiah -xiv.)."[42] Here pupil Walafrid follows his master, but adds: "Whose -bewedded Church Christ became enamoured of from the terrace of His -paternal majesty and joined her, made beautiful, to himself in -matrimony."[43] - -With Rabanus and Walafrid, as with Isidore and the Venerable Bede who were -the links between these Carolingians and the Fathers, the interest in -Scripture relates to its allegorical significance. Unmindful of the -obvious and literal meaning of the text, they were unabashed by the -incongruity of their allegorical interpretations.[44] Rabanus, for -instance, had unbounded enthusiasm for Exodus, because of its rich -symbolism: - - "Among the Scriptures embraced in the Pentateuch of the Law, the Book - of Exodus excels in merit; in it almost all the sacraments by which - the present Church is founded, nourished, and ruled, are figuratively - set forth. For there, through the corporeal exit of the children of - Israel from the terrestrial Egypt, our exit from the spiritual Egypt - is made clear. There again, through the crossing of the Red Sea and - the submersion of Pharaoh and the Egyptians, the mystery of Baptism - and the destruction of spiritual enemies are figured. There the - immolation of the typifying lamb and the celebration of the Passover - suggest the passion of the true Lamb and our redemption. There manna - from heaven and drink from a rock are given in order to teach us to - desire the heavenly bread and the drink of life. There precepts and - judgments are delivered to the people of God upon a mountain in order - that we may learn to be subject to supernal discipline. There the - construction of the tabernacle and its vessels is ordered to take - place with worship and sacrifices, that therein the adornment of the - marvellous Church and the rites of spiritual sacrifices may be - indicated. There the perfumes of incense and anointment are prepared, - in order that the sanctification of the Holy Spirit and the mystery of - sacred prayers may be commended to us."[45] - -The same commentator compiled a dictionary of allegories entitled -_Allegoriae in universam sacram scripturam_,[46] saying in his lumbering -Preface: - - "Whoever desires to arrive at an understanding of Holy Scripture - should consider when he should take the narrative historically, when - allegorically, when anagogically, and when tropologically. For these - four ways of understanding, to wit, history, allegory, tropology, - anagogy, we call the four daughters of wisdom, who cannot fully be - searched out without a prior knowledge of these. Through them Mother - Wisdom feeds her adopted children, giving to tender beginners drink in - the milk of history; to those advancing in faith, the food of - allegory; to the strenuous and sweating doers of good works, satiety - in the savoury refection of tropology; and finally, to those raised - from the depths through contempt of the earthly and through heavenly - desire progressing towards the summit, the sober intoxication of - theoretical contemplation in the wine of anagogy.... History, through - the ensample which it gives of perfect men, incites the reader to the - imitation of holiness; allegory, in the revelation of faith, leads to - a knowledge of truth; tropology, in the instruction of morals, to a - love of virtue; anagogy, in the display of everlasting joys, to a - desire of eternal felicity. In the house of our soul, history lays the - foundation, allegory erects the walls, anagogy puts on the roof, while - tropology provides ornament, within through the disposition, without - through the effect of the good work."[47] - -This work, alphabetically arranged, gave the allegorical significations of -words used in the Vulgate, with examples; for instance: - - "_Ager_ (field) is the world, as in the Gospel: 'To the man who sowed - good seed in his field,' that is to Christ, who sows preaching through - the world. - - "_Amicus_ (friend) is Christ, as in Canticles: 'He is my friend, - daughters of Jerusalem,' for He loved His Church so much that He would - die for her.... - - "_Ancilla_ (handmaid) is the Church, as in the Psalms: 'Make safe the - son of thine handmaid,' that is me, who am a member of the Church. - _Ancilla_, corruptible flesh, as in Genesis: 'Cast out the handmaid - and her son,' that is, despise the flesh and its carnal fruit. - _Ancilla_, preachers of the Church, as in Job: 'He will bind her with - his handmaids,'[48] because the Lord through His preachers conquered - the devil. _Ancilla_, the effeminate minds of the Jews, as in Job: - 'Thy handmaids hold me as a stranger,' because the effeminate minds of - the Jews knew me through faith.[49] _Ancilla_, the lowly, as in - Genesis, 'and meal for his handmaids,' because Holy Church affords - spiritual refection to the lowly. - - "_Aqua_ is the Holy Spirit, Christ, subtle wisdom, loquacity, temporal - greed, baptism, the hidden speech of the prophets, the holy preaching - of Christ, compunction, temporal prosperity, adversity, human - knowledge, this world's wealth, the literal meaning carnal pleasure, - eternal reflection, holy angels, souls of the blessed, saints, - humility's lament, the devotions of the saints, sins of the elect - which God condones, knowledge of the heretics, persecutions, unstable - thoughts, the blandishments of temptations, the pleasures of the - wicked, the punishments of hell. - - "_Mons_, mountain (in the singular) the Virgin Mary, _montes_ (in the - plural) angels, apostles, sublime precepts, the two Testaments, inner - meditations, proud men, the Gentiles, evil spirits."[50] - -Thus Rabanus dragged into his compilation every meaning that had ever been -ascribed to the words defined. In him and his contemporaries, the -allegorical material, apart from its utility for salvation, seems void of -human interest or poetic quality, as yet unstirred by a breath of life. -That was to enter, as allegory and all manner of symbolism began to form -the temper of mediaeval thought, and became a chosen vessel of the -mediaeval spirit in poetry and art. The vital change had taken place -before the twelfth century had turned its first quarter.[51] - -There flourished at this time a worthy monk named Honorius of Autun, also -called "the Solitary." It has been argued, and vehemently contradicted, -that he was of German birth. At all events, monk he was and teacher at -Autun. Those about him sought his instruction, and also requested him to -put his discourses into writing for their use; their request reads as if -at that time Honorius had retired from among them.[52] This is all that is -known of the man who composed the most popular handbook of sermons in the -Middle Ages. It was called the _Speculum ecclesiae_. Honorius may never -have preached these sermons; but still his book exists with sermons for -Sundays, saints' days, and other Church festivals; a sermon also to be -preached at Church dedications, and one "sermo generalis," very useful, -since it touched up all orders of society in succession, and a preacher -might take or omit according to his audience. Before beginning, the -preacher is directed to make the sign of the cross and invoke the Holy -Spirit: he is admonished first to pronounce his text of Scripture in the -Latin tongue, and then expound it in the vernacular;[53] he is instructed -as to what portions of certain sermons should be used under special -circumstances, and what parts he may omit in winter when the church is -cold, or when in summer it is too hot; or this is left quite to his -discretion: "Here make an end if you wish; but if time permits, continue -thus." - -Most of these sermons are short, and contain much excellent moral advice -put simply and directly. They also make constant use of allegory, and -evidently Honorius's chief care in their composition was to expound his -text allegorically and point the allegory's application to the needs of -his supposed audience. Neither he nor any man of his time devised many -novel allegorical interpretations; but the old ones had at length become -part of the mediaeval spirit and the regular means of apprehending the -force and meaning of Scripture. Consequently Honorius handles his -allegories more easily, and makes a more natural human application of -them, than Rabanus or Walafrid had done. Sometimes the allegory seems to -ignore the moral lesson of the literal facts; but while a smile may escape -us in reading Honorius, the allegories in his sermons are rarely strained -and shocking, likewise rarely dull. A general point from which he regards -the narratives and institutions of the Old Testament is summed up in his -statement, that for us Christ turned all provisions of the law into -spiritual sacraments.[54] The whole Old Testament has pre-figurative -significance and spiritual meaning; and likewise every narrative in the -Gospels is spiritual. - -Two or three examples will illustrate Honorius's edifying way of using -allegory. His sermon for the eleventh Sunday after Pentecost is typical of -his manner. The text is from the thirty-first[55] Psalm: "Blessed is the -man to whom the Lord will not impute sin." Opening with an exhortation to -penitence and tears and almsgiving, the preacher turns to the -self-righteous "whose obstinacy the Lord curbs in the Gospel for the day, -telling how two went up into the temple to pray, the one a Pharisee, to -wit, one of the Jewish clergy, the other a Publican." After proceeding for -a while with sound and obvious comment on the situation, Honorius says: - - "By the two men who went up into the temple to pray, two peoples, the - Jewish and the Gentile, are meant. The Pharisee who went close to the - altar is the Jewish people, who possessed the Sanctuary and the Ark. - He tells aloud his merits in the temple, because in the world he - boasts of his observance of the law. - - "The Publican who stands afar off is the Gentile people, who were far - off from the worship of God. He did not lift up his eyes to heaven, - because the Gentile was agape at the things of earth. He beat his - breast when he bewailed his error through penitence; and because he - humbled himself in confession, God exalted him through pardon. Let us - also, beloved, thus stand afar off, deeming ourselves unworthy of the - holy sacraments and the companionship of the saints. Let us not lift - up our eyes to heaven, but deem ourselves unworthy of it. Let us beat - our breasts and punish our misdeeds with tears. Let us fall prostrate - before God; and let us weep in the presence of the Lord who made us, - so that He may turn our lament to joy, rend asunder our garb of - mourning, and clothe us with happiness." - -Honorius lingers a moment with some further exhortations suggested by his -parable, and then turns to the edification to be found in fables wisely -composed by profane writers. Let not the congregation be scandalized; for -the children of Israel despoiled the Egyptians of gold and gems and -precious vesture, which they afterwards devoted to completing the -tabernacle. Pious Christians spoil the Egyptians when they turn profane -studies to spiritual account. The philosophers tell of a woman bound to a -revolving wheel, her head now up now down. The wheel is this world's -glory, and the woman is that fortune which depends on it. Again, they tell -of one who tries to roll a stone to the top of a mountain; but, near the -top, it hurls the wretch prostrate with its weight and crashes back to the -bottom; and again, of one whose liver is eaten by a vulture, and, when -consumed, grows again. The man who pushes up the stone is he who -toilsomely amasses dignities, to be plunged by them to hell; and he of the -liver is the man upon whose heart lust feeds. From that pest, they say, -Medusa sprang, with noble form exciting many to lust, but with her look -turning them to stone. She is wantonness, who turns to stone the hearts of -the lewd through their lustful pleasure. Perseus slew her, covering -himself with his crystalline shield; for the strong man, gazing into -virtue's mirror, averts his heart's countenance (_i.e._ from wantonness). -The sword with which he kills her is the fear of everlasting fire. - -Then, continues Honorius, we read of a boy brought up by one of the -Fathers in a hermitage; but as he grew to youth he was tickled with lust. -The Father commanded him to go alone into the desert and pass forty days -in fasting and prayer. When some twenty days had passed, there appeared a -naked woman foul and stinking, who thrust herself upon him, and he, unable -to endure her stench, began to repel her. At which she asked: "Why do you -shudder at the sight of me for whom you burned? I am the image of lust, -which appears sweet to men's hearts. If you had not obeyed the Father, you -would have been overthrown by me as others have been." So he thanked God -for snatching him from the spirit of fornication. Many other examples lead -us to the path of life. - -Honorius closes with the story of the "Three Fools," observed by a certain -Father: the first an Ethiopian who was unable to move a faggot of wood, -which he would continually unbind and make still heavier by adding further -sticks; the second, a man pouring water into a vase which had no bottom; -and, thirdly, the two men who came bearing before them crosswise a beam of -wood; as they neared the city gate neither would let the other precede him -even a little, and so both remained without. The Ethiopian who adds to his -insupportable faggot is he who continually increases his weight of sin, -adding new sins to old ones unrepented of; he who pours water into the -vase with no bottom is he who by his uncleanness loses the merit of his -good acts; and the two who bear the beam crosswise are those bound by the -yoke of Pride.[56] - -Such are good examples of the queer stories to which preachers resorted. -One notices that whatever be the source from which Honorius draws, his -interest is always in the allegory found in the narratives. Another very -apt example of his manner is his treatment of the story of the Good -Samaritan, so often depicted on Gothic church windows. For us this parable -carries an exhaustless wealth of direct application in human life; it was -regarded very differently by Honorius and the glass painters, whose -windows are a pictorial transcription of the first half of his -sermon.[57] - -"Blessed is the man who walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly"--this -is the text; and Honorius proceeds: - - "Adam was the unhappy man who through the counsel of the wicked - departed from his native land of Paradise and dragged all his - descendants into this exile. He thus stood in the way of sinners, - because he remained stable in sin. He sat 'in the seat of the - scornful,' because by evil example he taught others to sin. But Christ - arose, the blessed man who walketh in the counsel of the Father from - the hall of heaven into prison after the lost servant. He did not walk - in the counsel of the ungodly when the devil showed Him all the - kingdoms of the world; He did not stand in the way of sinners, because - He committed no sin; He did not sit in the seat of the scornful, since - neither by word nor deed did He teach evil. Thus as that unhappy man - drew all his carnal children into death, this blessed man brought all - His sons to life. As He himself sets forth in the Gospel: 'A certain - man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and robbers attacked and - wounded him, stripped him and went away. And by chance there came that - way a certain priest, who seeing him half-dead, crossed to the other - side. Likewise a Levite passed by when he had seen him. But a - Samaritan coming that same way, had compassion on the poor wretch, - bound up his wounds and poured in oil and wine, and setting him on his - own beast, brought him to an inn. The next day he gave the innkeeper - two pence and asked that he care for him, and if more was needed He - promised to repay the innkeeper on His return.' - - "Surely man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho when our first parent - from the joys of Paradise entered death's eclipse. For Jericho, which - means moon, designates the eclipse of our mortality. Whereby man fell - among thieves, since a swarm of demons at once surrounded the exile. - Wherefore also they despoiled him, since they stripped him of the - riches of Paradise and the garment of immortality. They gave him - wounds, for sins flowed in upon him. They left him half-dead, because - dead in soul. The priest passed down the same way, as the Order of - Patriarchs proceeded along the path of mortality. The priest left him - wounded, having no power to aid the human race while himself sore - wounded with sins. The Levite went that way, inasmuch as the Order of - Prophets also had to tread the path of death. He too passed by the - wounded man, because he could bear no human aid to the lost while - himself groaning under the wounds of sin. The wretch half-dead was - healed by the Samaritan, for the man set apart through Christ is made - whole. - - "Samaria was the chief city of the Israelitish kingdom whose chiefs - were led away to idolatry in Nineveh, and Gentiles were placed in her. - The Jews abhorred their fellowship, making them a byword of - malediction. So when reviling the Lord, they called Him a Samaritan. - The Lord was the true Samaritan, being called guardian (_custos_) - since the human race is guarded by Him. He went down this way when - from heaven He came into this world. He saw the wounded traveller, - inasmuch as He saw man held in misery and sin. He was moved with - compassion for him, since for man He undergoes all pains. Approaching, - He bound his wounds when, proclaiming eternal life, He taught man to - cease from sin. He bound his wounds together with the two parts of the - bandage when He quelled sins through two fears--the servile fear which - forbids through penalties, and the filial fear which exhorts the holy - to good works. He drew tight the lower part of the bandage when He - struck men's hearts with fear of hell. Their worm, He said, does not - die, and their fire is not quenched. He drew tight the upper part when - He taught the fear which belongs to the study of good. 'The children - of the kingdom,' said He, 'shall be cast into outer darkness, where - there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.' He poured in wine and oil - when He taught repentance and pardon. He poured in wine when He said, - 'Repent ye'; He added oil when He said, 'for the kingdom of heaven is - at hand.' He set him upon His beast when He bore our sins in His body - on the Cross. He led him to the inn when He joined him to the supernal - Church. The inn, in which living beings are assembled at night, is the - present Church, where the just are harboured amid the darkness of this - life until the Day of Eternity blows and the shadows of mortality give - way. - - "The next day He tendered the two pence. The first day was of death, - the next of life. The day of death began with Adam, when all die. The - day of life took its beginning from Christ, in whom all shall be made - alive. Before Christ's resurrection all men were travelling to death; - since His resurrection all the faithful have been rising to life. He - tendered the two pence the next day--when after His resurrection He - taught that the two Testaments were fulfilled by the two precepts of - love. He gave the pence to the innkeeper when He committed the - doctrine of the law of life to the Order of Doctors. He directed him - to tend the sick man when He commanded that the human race should be - saved from sin. The stench drove the sick man from the inn, because - this world's tribulation drives the righteous to seek the things - celestial. Two pence are given to the innkeeper when the Doctors are - raised on high by Scriptural knowledge and temporal honour. If they - should require more, He repays them on His return; for if they - exemplify good preaching with good works, when the true Samaritan - returns to judgment and leads him, aforetime wounded but now healed, - from the inn to the celestial mansion, He will repay the zealous - stewards with eternal rewards."[58] - -Here Honorius proceeds to expound the allegory contained in the healing of -the dumb man and the ten lepers, and closes his sermon with two -narratives, one of a poor idiot who sang the _Gloria_ without ceasing, and -was seen in glory after death; the other of a lay nun (_conversa_) around -whose last hours were shed sweet odours and a miraculous light, while -those present heard the chant of heavenly voices. - -The parables of Christ present types which we may apply in life according -to circumstances. In the concrete instance of the parable we find the -universal, and we deem Christ meant it so. Thus we also view the parables -as symbols, which they were. Honorius, with the vast company of mediaeval -and patristic expounders, ordinarily directs the symbolism of the parables -in a special mode, whereby--like the stories of the Old Testament--they -become figurative of Christ and the needy soul of man, or figurative of -the Christian dispensation with its historical antecedents and its Day of -Judgment at the end. - -The like may be said of Honorius's allegorical interpretation of Greek -legends. These ancient stories have the perennial youth of human charm and -meaning ever new. They had been good old stories to the Greeks, and then -acquired further intendment as later men discerned a broader symbolism in -them. Even in classic times, Homer's stories had been turned to -allegories, philosophers and critics sometimes finding in them a spiritual -significance not unlike that which the same tales may bear for us. But -with this difference: the later Greeks usually were trying to explain away -the somewhat untrammelled ways of the Homeric pantheon, and therefore -maintained that Homer's stories were composed as allegories, the wise and -mystic poet choosing thus to veil his meaning. To-day we find the clarity -of daybreak in Homer's tales, and if we make symbols of them we know the -symbolism is not his but ours. Honorius chooses to think that allegory had -always lain in the old story; he will not deem it the invention of himself -or other Christian writers. Here his attitude is not unlike that of the -apologetic Greek critics. But his interpretations are apt to differ from -theirs as well as from our own. For his symbolism tends to abandon the -broadly human, and to become, like the mediaeval Biblical interpretations, -figurative of the tenets of the Christian Faith. - -There is an interesting example of this in the sermon for Septuagesima -Sunday, which was written on a somewhat blind text from the twenty-eighth -chapter of Job. Honorius proceeds expounding it through a number of -strained allegories, which he doubtless drew from Gregory's _Moralia_; for -that great pope was the recognized expositor of Job, and the Book of Job -was simply Gregory through all the Middle Ages. Perhaps Honorius felt that -this sermon was rather soporific. At all events he stops in the middle to -give a piece of advice to the supposed preacher: "Often put something of -this kind in your sermon; for so you will relieve the tedium." And he -continues thus: - - "Brethren, on this holy day there is much to say which I must pass - over in silence, lest disgusted you should wish to leave the church - before the end. For some of you have come far and must go a long way - to reach your houses. Or perhaps, some have guests at home, or crying - babies; or others are not swift and have to go elsewhere, while to - some a bodily infirmity brings uneasiness lest they expose themselves. - So I omit much for everybody's sake, but still would say a few words. - - "Because to-day, beloved, we have laid aside the song of gladness and - taken up the song of sadness, I would briefly tell you something from - the books of the pagans, to show how you should reject the melody of - this world's pleasures in order that hereafter with the angels you may - make sweet harmonies in heaven. For one should pick up a gem found in - dung and set it as a kingly ornament; thus if we find anything useful - in pagan books we should turn it to the building up of the Church, - which is Christ's spouse. The wise of this world write that there were - three Syrens in an island of the sea, who used to chant the sweetest - song in divers tones. One sang, another piped, the third played upon a - lyre. They had the faces of women, the talons and wings of birds. They - stopped all passing ships with the sweetness of their song; they rent - the sailors heavy with sleep; they sank the ships in the brine. When a - certain duke, Ulysses, had to sail by their island, he ordered his - comrades to bind him to the mast and stuff their ears with wax. Thus - he escaped the peril unharmed, and plunged the Syrens in the waves. - These, beloved, are mysteries, although written by the enemies of - Christ. By the sea is to be understood this age which rolls beneath - the unceasing blasts of tribulations. The island is earth's joy, which - is intercepted by crowding pains, as the shore is beat upon by - crowding waves. The three Syrens who with sweet caressing song - overturn the navigators in sleep, are three delights which soften - men's hearts for vice and lead them into the sleep of death. She who - sings with human voice is Avarice, and to her hearers thus she tunes - her song: 'Thou shouldst get together much, so as to be able to spread - wide thy fame, and also visit the Lord's sepulchre and other places, - restore churches, aid the poor and thy relatives as well.' With such - baneful song she charms the miser's heart, until the sleep of death - oppresses him. Then she tears his flesh, the wave devours the ship, - and the wretch by fierce pains is waked from his riches and plunged in - eternal flame. She who plays upon the pipe is Vainglory (_Jactantia_), - and thus she pipes her lay for hers: 'Thou art in thy youth, and - noble; make thyself appear glorious. Spare no enemies, but kill them - all when able. Then people will call thee a good knight.' Again will - she chant: 'Thou shouldst win Jerusalem, and give great alms. Then - thou wilt be famous, and wilt be called good by all.' To the lay - brethren (_conversis_) she sings: 'Thou must fast and pray always, - singing with loud voice. Then wilt thou hear thyself lauded as a saint - by all.' Such song with vain heart she makes resound till the - whirlpool of death devours the wretch emptied of worth. - - "She who sings to a lyre is Wantonness (_Luxuria_), and she chants - melodies like these to her parasites: 'Thou art in thy youth; now is - the time to sport with the girls--old age will do to reform in. Here - is one with a fine figure; this one is rich; from this one you would - gain much. There is plenty of time to save your soul.' In such way she - melts the hearts of the wanton till Cocytus's waves engulf them - suddenly tripped by death. - - "They have the faces of women, because nothing so estranges man from - God as the love of women. They have wings of birds, because the desire - of worldlings is always unstable, their appetites now craving one - thing, and again their lust flying to another object. They have also - the talons of birds, because they tear their victims as they snatch - them away to the torments of hell. Ulysses is called Wise. Unharmed he - steers his course by the island, because the truly wise Christian - swims over the sea of this world, in the ship of the Church. By the - fear of God he binds himself to the mast of the ship, that is, to the - cross of Christ; with wax, that is with the incarnation of Christ, he - seals the ears of his comrades, that they may turn their hearts from - lusts and vices and yearn only for heavenly things. The Syrens are - submerged, because he is protected from their lusts by the strength - of the Spirit. Unharmed the voyagers avoid the peril, inasmuch as - through victory they reach the joys of the saints."[59] - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -THE RATIONALE OF THE VISIBLE WORLD: HUGO OF ST. VICTOR - - -Just as the Middle Ages followed the allegorical interpretation of -Scripture elaborated by the Church Fathers, so they also accepted, and -even made more precise, the patristic inculcation of the efficacy of such -most potent symbols as the water of baptism and the bread and wine -transubstantiated in the Eucharist.[60] Passing onward from these mighty -bases of conviction, the mediaeval genius made fertile use of allegory in -the polemics of Church and State, and exalted the symbolical principle -into an ultimate explanation of the visible universe. - -Notable was the career of allegory in politics. Throughout the long -struggle of the Papacy with the Empire and other secular monarchies, -arguments drawn from allegory never ceased to carry weight. A very -shibboleth was the witness of the "two swords" (Luke xxii. 38), both of -which, the temporal as well as spiritual, the Church held to have been -entrusted to her keeping for the ordering of earthly affairs, to the end -that men's souls should be saved. Still more fluid was the argumentative -nostrum of mankind conceived as an Organism, or animate body (_unum -corpus, corpus mysticum_). This metaphor was found in more than one of the -Latin classics; but patristic and mediaeval writers took it from the works -of Paul.[61] The likeness of the human body to the body politic or -ecclesiastic was carried out in every imaginable detail, and used acutely -or absurdly by politicians and schoolmen from the eleventh century -onward.[62] - -We turn to the symbolical explanation of the universe. In the first half -of the twelfth century, a profoundly meditative soul, Hugo of St. Victor -by name, attempted a systematic exposition of the symbolical or -sacramental plan inhering in God's scheme of creation. Of the man, as with -so many monks and schoolmen whose names and works survive, little is known -beyond the presentation of his personality afforded by his writings. He -taught in the monastic school of St. Victor, a community that had a story, -with which may be connected the scanty facts of the short and happy -pilgrimage to God, which made Hugo's life on earth.[63] - -When William of Champeaux, according to Abaelard's account, was routed -from his logical positions in the cathedral school of Paris,[64] he -withdrew from the school and from the city to the quiet of a secluded spot -on the left bank of the Seine, not far distant from Notre-Dame. Here was -an ancient chapel dedicated to Saint-Victor, and here William, with some -companions, organized themselves into a monastic community according to -the rule of the canons of St. Augustine. This was in 1108. If for a time -William laid aside his studies and lecturing, he soon resumed them at the -solicitations of his scholars, joined to those of his friend Hildebert, -Bishop of Le Mans.[65] And so the famous school of Saint-Victor began. -William remained there only four years, being made Bishop of Chalons in -1112, and thereafter figuring prominently in Church councils, frequent in -France at this epoch. - -Under William's disciple and successor, Gilduin, the community flourished -and increased. King Louis VI., whose confessor was Gilduin himself, -endowed it liberally, and other donors were not lacking. Saint-Victor -became rich, and its fame for learning and holiness spread far and -wide.[66] Abbot Gilduin lived to see more than forty houses of monks or -regular canons[67] flourishing as dependencies of Saint-Victor. He died in -1155, some years after the death of the young man whose scholarship and -genius was the pride of the Victorine community. - -Notwithstanding a statement in an old manuscript, that Hugo was born near -Ypres in Flanders, the ancient tradition of Saint-Victor, confirmed by the -records of the cathedral of Halberstadt, shows him to have been a son of -the Count of Blankemberg, and born at Hartingam in Saxony.[68] His uncle -Reinhard was Bishop of Halberstadt, where his great-uncle, named Hugo like -himself, was archdeacon. Reinhard had been a pupil of William of Champeaux -at Saint-Victor, and after becoming bishop continued to cherish a profound -esteem for him. The young Hugo renounced his inheritance and entered a -monastery not far from Halberstadt; but soon, in view of the disturbed -affairs of Saxony, his uncle Reinhard urged him to go and pursue his -studies at Saint-Victor. The young man persuaded his great-uncle Hugo to -accompany him. By circuitous routes, visiting various places of pious -interest on the way, the two reached Saint-Victor, where they were -received with all honour by the abbot Gilduin. This was not far from the -year 1115, and Hugo was about twenty at the time. He was already an -accomplished scholar, and doubtless it is to his previous studies that he -refers when he speaks as follows in his book of elementary instruction, -called the _Didascalicon_: - - "I dare say that I never despised anything pertaining to learning, and - learned much that might strike others as light and vain. I practised - memorizing the names of everything I saw or heard of, thinking that I - could not properly study the nature of things unless I knew their - names. Daily I examined my notes of topics, that I might hold in my - memory every proposition, with the questions, objections, and - solutions. I would inform myself as to controversies and consider the - proper order of the argument on either side, carefully distinguishing - what pertained to the office of rhetoric, oratory, and sophistry. I - set problems of numbers; I drew figures on the pavement with charcoal, - and with the figure before me I demonstrated the different qualities - of the obtuse, the acute and the right angle, and also of the square. - Often I watched out the nocturnal horoscope through winter nights. - Often I strung my harp (_Saepe ad numerum protensum in ligno magadam - ducere solebam_) that I might perceive the different sounds and - likewise delight my mind with the sweet notes. All these were boyish - occupations (_puerilia_) but not useless. Nor does it burden my - stomach to know them now."[69] - -Not long after Hugo's arrival at Saint-Victor he began to teach at the -monastery school, and upon the death of its director, in 1133, succeeded -to the office, which he held until his death in 1141.[70] Colourless and -grey are the outer facts of a monk's life, counting but little. The soul -of a Hugo of Saint-Victor did not soil itself with any interest in the -pleasures of the world: "He is not solitary with whom is God, nor is the -power of joy extinguished because his appetite is kept from things abject -and vile. He rather does himself an injustice who admits to the society of -his joy what is disgraceful or unworthy of his love."[71] - -Hugo belonged to the aristocracy of contemplative piety, with its scorn of -whatever lies without the pale of the soul's companionship with God. In -his independent way he followed Augustine, and Augustine's Platonism, -which was so largely the Neo-Platonism of Plotinus and Porphyry. He also -followed the real Plato speaking in the _Timaeus_, with which he was -acquainted. Plato would have nothing to do with allegorical interpretation -as a defence of Homer's gods; but he could himself make very pretty -allegories, and his theory of ideas as at once types and creative -intelligences lent itself to Christian systems of symbolism. In this way -he was a spiritual ancestor of Hugo, who found in God the type-ideas of -all things that He created. Moreover, if not Plato, at least his spiritual -children--Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Plotinus--recognized that the -highest truths must be known in modes transcending reason and its -syllogisms, although these were the necessary avenues of approach. Hugo -likewise regarded rational knowledge as but the path by which the soul -ascends to the plateau of contemplation. The general aspects of his -philosophy will be considered in a later chapter. Here he is to be viewed -as a mediaeval symbolist, upon whom pressed a sense of the symbolism of -all visible things. An examination of his great _De sacramentis -Christianae fidei_ will disclose that with Hugo the material creation in -its deepest verity is a symbol; that Scripture, besides its literal -meaning, is allegory from Genesis to Revelation; that the means of -salvation provided by the Church are sacramental, and thus essentially -symbolical, consisting of perfected and potent symbols which have been -shadowed forth in the unperfected sacramental character of all God's works -from the beginning.[72] - -Hugo's little Preface (_praefatiuncula_) mentions certain requests made to -him to write a book on the Sacraments. In undertaking it, he proposes to -present in better form many things dictated from time to time rather -negligently. Whatever he has taken from his previous writings he has -revised as seemed best. Should there appear any inconsistency between what -he may have said elsewhere and the language of the present work, he begs -the reader to regard the present as the better form of statement. His -method will be to treat his matter in the order of time; and to this end -his work is divided into two Books. The first discusses the subject from -the Beginning of the World until the Incarnation of the Word; the second -continues it from the Incarnation to the final Consummation of all things. -He explains that as he has elsewhere spoken at length upon the primary or -historical meaning of Holy Writ,[73] he will devote himself here rather to -its secondary or allegorical significance. - -Hugo further explains the subject of his treatise in a Prologue: - - "The work of man's restoration is the subject-matter (_materia_) of - all the Scriptures. There are two works, the work of foundation and - the work of restoration, which include everything whatsoever. The - former is the creation of the world with all its elements; the latter - is the incarnation of the Word with all its sacraments, those which - went before from the beginning and those which follow even to the end - of the world. For the incarnate Word is our King, who came into this - world to fight the devil. And all the saints who were before His - coming, were as soldiers going before His face; and those who have - come and will come after, until the end of the world, are as soldiers - who follow their king. He is the King in the centre of His army, - advancing girt by His troops. And although in such a multitude divers - shapes of arms appear in the sacraments and observances of those who - precede and come after, yet all are soldiers under one king and follow - one banner; they pursue one enemy and with one victory are crowned. In - all of this may be observed the work of restoration. - - "Scripture gives first a brief account of the work of creation. For it - could not aptly show how man was restored unless it had previously - explained how he had fallen; nor could it show how he had fallen, - without first showing how God had made him, for which in turn it was - necessary to set forth the creation of the whole world, because the - world was made for man. The spirit was created for God's sake; the - body for the spirit's sake, and the world for the body's sake, so that - the spirit might be subject to God, the body to the spirit, and the - world to the body. In this order, therefore, Holy Scripture describes - first the creation of the world which was made for man; then it tells - how man was made and set in the way of righteousness and discipline; - after that, how man fell; and finally how he was restored - (_reparatus_)." - -In these first little chapters of his Prologue, Hugo has grouped his -topics suggestively. The world was made for man, and therefore the account -of its creation is needed in order to understand man. Moreover, that man's -body exists for his spirit's sake, at once suggests that a significance -beyond the literal meaning is likely to dwell in that account of the -material creation which enables us to understand man. The soul needs -instruction and guidance; and God in creating the world for man surely had -in view his most important interests, which were not those of his mortal -body, but those of his soul. So the creation of the world subserves man's -spiritual interests, and the divine account of it carries spiritual -instruction. The allegorical significance of the world's creation, which -answers to man's spiritual needs, is as veritable and real as the facts of -the world's material foundation, which answers to the needs of his body. -Thus symbolism is rooted in the character and purpose of the material -creation; it lies in the God-implanted nature of things; therefore the -allegorical interpretation of the Scriptures corresponds to their deepest -meaning and the revealed plan of God. - -These principles underlie Hugo's exposition of the Christian sacraments, -whose unperfected prototypes existed in the work of the Creation. No fact -of sacred history, no single righteous pre-Christian observance, was -unaffiliated with them. An adequate understanding of their nature involves -a full knowledge not only of Christian doctrine, but of all other -knowledge profitable to men--as Hugo clearly indicates in the remaining -portion of his Prologue: - - "Whence it appears how much divine Scripture in subtle profundity - surpasses all other writings, not only in its matter but in the way of - treating it. In other writings the words alone carry meaning: in - Scripture not only the words, but the things may mean something. - Wherefore just as a knowledge of the words is needed in order to know - what things are signified, so a knowledge of the things is needed in - order to determine _their_ mystical signification of other things - which have been or ought to be done. The knowledge of words falls - under two heads: expression, and the substance of their meaning. - Grammar relates only to expression, dialectic only to meaning, while - rhetoric relates to both. A knowledge of things requires a knowledge - of their form and of their nature. Form consists in external - configuration, nature in internal quality. Form is treated as number, - to which arithmetic applies; or as proportion, to which music applies; - or as dimension, to which geometry applies; or as motion, to which - pertains astronomy. But physics (_physica_) looks to the inner nature - of things. - - "It follows that all the natural arts serve divine science, and the - lower knowledge rightly ordered leads to the higher. History, _i.e._ - the historical meaning, is that in which words signify things, and its - servants, as already said, are the three sciences, grammar, dialectic, - and rhetoric. When, however, things signify facts mystically, we have - allegory; and when things mystically signify what ought to be done, we - have tropology. These two are served by arithmetic, music, geometry, - astronomy, and physics. Above and beyond all is that divine something - to which divine Scripture leads, either in allegory or tropology. Of - this the one part (which is in allegory) is right faith, and the other - (which is in tropology) is good conduct: in these consist knowledge of - truth and love of virtue, and this is the true restoration of - man."[74] - -Hugo has now stated his position. The rationale of the world's creation -lies in the nature of man. The Seven Liberal Arts, and incidentally all -human knowledge, in handmaidenly manner, promote an understanding of man -as well as of the saving teaching contained in Scripture. This was the -common mediaeval view; but Hugo proves it through application of the -principles of symbolism and allegorical interpretation. By these -instruments he orders the arts and sciences according to their value in -his Christian system, and makes all human knowledge subserve the -intellectual economy of the soul's progress to God. - -An exposition of the Work of the Six Days opens the body of Hugo's -treatise. God created all things from nothing, and at once. His creation -was at first unformed; not absolutely formless, but in the form of -confusion, out of which in the six days He wrought the form of ordered -disposition. The first creation included the matter of corporeal things -and (in the angelic nature) the essence of things invisible; for the -rational creature may be said to be unformed until it take form through -turning unto its Creator, whereby it gains beauty and blessedness from Him -through the conversion which is of love. Thus the matter of every -corporeal thing which God afterwards made, existed from the time of His -first creation, and likewise the image of everything invisible. For -although new souls are still created every day, their image existed -previously in the angelic spirits. - -Then God made light, the unformed material of which He had created in the -beginning. - - "And at the very moment when light was visibly and corporeally - separated from darkness, the good angels were invisibly set apart from - the wicked angels who were falling in the darkness of sin. The good - were illumined and converted to the light of righteousness, that they - might be light and not darkness. Thus we ought to perceive a - consonance in the works of God, the visible work conforming to the - issue of the invisible in such wise that the Wisdom which worked in - both may in the former instruct by an example and in the latter - execute judgment." - -The severance of light from darkness is the material example of how God -executes judgment in dividing the good from the evil. In this visible work -of God a "sacrament" is discernible, since every soul, so long as it is in -sin, is in darkness and confusion. All the visible works of God offer -spiritual lessons (_spiritualia praeferunt documenta_). They have -sacramental qualities, and yet are not perfected and completed sacraments, -as will hereafter appear from Hugo's definition. - -Following the order of creation, Hugo now speaks of the firmament which -God set in the midst of the waters to divide them: - - "He who believes that this was made for his sake will not look for the - reason of it outside of himself. For it all was made in the image of - the world within him; the earth which is below, is the sensual nature - of man, and the heaven above is the purity of his intelligence - quickening to immortal life." - -The rational and unseen are a world as well as the material and visible. -The sacramental quality of the material world lies in its correspondence -to the unseen world. When Hugo speaks of the "sacramenta" in the creation -of light and the waters divided by the firmament, he means that in -addition to their material nature as light and water, they are essentially -symbols. Their symbolism is as veritably part of their nature as the -symbolical character of the Eucharist is part of the nature of the -consecrated bread and wine. The sacraments are among the deepest verities -of the Christian Faith. And the same representative verity that exists in -them, exists, in less perfected mode, throughout God's entire creation. So -the argument carries out the principles of the sacraments and the -principles of symbolism to a full explanation of the world; and Hugo's -work upon the Sacraments presents his theory of the universe. - - "Many other mysteries," says Hugo, closing the first "Part" of his - first Book, "could be pointed out in the work of the creation. But we - briefly speak of these matters as a suitable approach to the subject - set before us. For our purpose is to treat of the sacrament of man's - redemption. The work of creation was completed in six days, the work - of restoration in six ages. The latter work we define as the - Incarnation of the Word and what in and through the flesh the Word - performed, with all His sacraments, both those which from the - beginning prefigured the Incarnation and those which follow to declare - and preach it till the end." - -It is unnecessary to follow Hugo through the discussion, upon which he now -enters, of the will, knowledge, and power of the Trinity, or through his -consideration of the knowledge which man may have of God. In Part V. of -the first Book, he considers the creation of angels, their qualities and -nature, and the reasons why a part of them fell. With Part VI. the -creation of man is reached, which Hugo shows to have been causally prior, -though later in time, to the creation of the world which God made for man. -From love God created rational creatures, the angels purely spiritual, and -man a spirit clothed with earth.[75] Hugo considers the corporeal as well -as the spiritual nature and qualities of man, and his condition before the -Fall. The seventh Part is devoted to the Fall itself, and discusses its -character and sinfulness. - -At length, in the eighth Part, Hugo reaches the true subject of his -treatise, the restoration of man. Man's first sin of pride was followed by -a triple punishment, consisting in a penalty, and two entailed defects, -the penalty being bodily mortality, the defects carnal concupiscence and -mental ignorance. - - "Regarding his reparation three matters are to be considered, the - time, the place, the remedy. The time is the present life, from the - beginning to the end of the world. The place is this world.[76] The - remedy is threefold, and consists in faith, the sacraments, and good - works. Long is the time, that man may not be taken unprepared. Hard is - the place, that the transgressor may be castigated. Efficacious is the - remedy, that the sick one may be healed." - -Hugo then sets forth the situation, the case in court as it were, to which -God, the devil, and man, are the three parties. In this trial - - "... the devil is convicted of an injury to God in that he seduced - God's servant by fraud and holds him by violence. Man also is - convicted of an injury to God in that he despised His command and - wickedly gave himself to evil servitude. Likewise the devil is - convicted of an injury toward man, in first deceiving him and then - bringing evil upon him. The devil holds man unjustly, though man is - justly held." - -Since the devil's case against man was unjust, man might defeat his -lordship; but he needed an advocate (_patronus_), which could be only God. -God, angry at man's sin, did not wish to undertake man's cause. He must be -placated; and man had no equivalent to offer for the injury he had done -Him; for he had deserted God when rational and innocent, and could deliver -himself back to God only as an irrational and sinful creature. Therefore, -in order that man might have wherewithal to placate God, God through -mercy gave man a man whom man might give in place of him who had sinned. -God became man for man and as man gave himself for man. Thus He who had -been man's Creator became also his Redeemer. God might have redeemed man -in some other way, but took the way of human nature as best suited to -man's weakness. - -After our first parent had been exiled from Paradise for his sin, the -devil possessed him violently. But God's providence tempered justice with -mercy, and from the penalty itself prepared a remedy. - - "He set for man as a sign the sacraments of his salvation, in order - that whoever would apprehend them with right faith and firm hope, - might, though under the yoke, have some fellowship with freedom. He - set His edict informing and instructing man, so that whoever should - elect to expect a saviour, should prove his vow of election in - observance of the sacraments. The devil also set his sacraments, that - he might know and possess his own more surely. The human race was at - once divided into opposite parties, some accepting the devil's - sacraments and some the sacraments of Christ.... Hence it is clear, - that from the beginning there were Christians in fact, if not in - name." - -Hugo proceeds to show that the time of the institution of the sacraments -began when our first parent, expelled from Paradise, was subjected to the -exile of this mortal life, with all his posterity until the end. - - "As soon as man had fallen from his first state of incorruption, he - began to be sick, in body through his mortality, in mind through his - iniquity. Forthwith God prepared the medicine of his reparation - through His sacraments. In divers times and places God presented these - for man's healing, as reason and the cause demanded, some of them - before the Law, some under the Law and some under grace. Though - different in form they had the one effect and accomplished the one - health. If any one inquires the period of their appointment he may - know that as long as there is disease so long is the time of the - medicine. The present life, from the beginning to the end of the - world, is the time of sickness and the time of the remedy. When a - sacrament has fulfilled its time it ceases, and others take its place, - to bring about that same health. These in turn have been succeeded at - last by others, which are not to be superseded." - -Having followed Hugo's plan thus far, one sees why it is only at the -commencement of the ninth Part of his first Book that he reaches the -definition and discussion of those final and enduring sacraments which -followed the Incarnation. He has hitherto been developing his theme, and -now takes up its very essence. Laying out the matter scholastically, he -says "there are four things to consider: first, what is a sacrament; -second, why they were instituted; third, what may be the material of each -sacrament, in which it is made and sanctified; and fourth, how many -sacraments there are. This is the definition, cause, material, and -classification." - -Proceeding to the definition, he says that the doctors have briefly -described a sacrament as the token of the sacred substance (_sacrae rei -signum_). - - "For as there is body and soul in man, and in Scripture the letter and - the sense, so in every sacrament there is the visible external which - may be handled and the invisible within, which is believed and taught. - The material external is the sacrament, and the invisible and - spiritual is the sacrament's substance (_res_) or _virtus_. The - external is handled and sanctified; that is the _signum_ of the - spiritual grace, which is the sacrament's _res_ and is invisibly - apprehended." - -Having thus explained the old definition, Hugo objects to it on the ground -that not every _signum rei sacrae_ is a sacrament; the letters of the -sacred text and the pictures of holy things are _signa rei sacrae_, and -yet are not sacraments. He therefore offers the following definition as -adequate: - - "The sacrament is the corporeal or material element set out sensibly, - representing from its similitude, signifying from its institution, and - containing from its sanctification, some invisible and spiritual - grace."[77] - -This, he maintains, is a perfect definition, since all sacraments possess -these three qualities, and whatever lacks them cannot properly be called a -sacrament. As an example he instances the baptismal water: - - "There is the visible element of water, which is the sacrament; and - these three are found in one: representation from similitude, - significance from appointment, virtue from sanctification. The - similitude is from creation, the appointment from dispensation, the - sanctification from benediction. The first is imparted to it through - the Creator, the second is added through the Saviour, the third is - given through the administrator."[78] - -Passing to the second consideration, Hugo finds that the sacraments were -instituted with threefold purpose, for man's humiliation, instruction, and -discipline or exercise. The man contemning them cannot be saved. Yet God -has saved many without them, as Jeremiah was sanctified in the womb, and -John the Baptist, and those who were righteous under the natural law. "For -those who under the natural law possessed the substance (_res_) of the -sacrament in right faith and charity, did not to their damnation lack the -sacrament." And Hugo warns whoever might take a narrower view, to beware -lest in honouring God's sacraments, His power and goodness be made of no -avail. "Dost thou tell me that he who has not the sacraments of God cannot -be saved? I tell thee that he who has the virtue of the sacraments of God -cannot perish. Which is greater, the sacrament or the virtue of the -sacrament--water or faith? If thou wouldst speak truly, answer, 'faith.'" -One notes that the twelfth century had its broad-mindedness, as well as -the twentieth. - -While passing on discursively to consider the classification of the -sacraments, Hugo considers many matters,[79] and then opens his treatment -of the sacraments of the natural law with a recapitulation: - - "The sacraments from the beginning were instituted for the restoration - and healing of man, some under the natural law, some under the - written law, and others under grace. Those which are later in time - will be found more worthy means of spiritual grace. For all those - sacraments of the former time, under the natural or the written law, - were signs and figures of those now appointed under grace. The - spiritual effect of the former in their time was wrought through the - virtue and sanctification drawn from the latter. If any one therefore - would deny that those prior sacraments were effectual for - sanctification, he does not seem to me to judge aright."[80] - -The sacraments of the natural law were as the _umbra veritatis_; those of -the written law as the _imago vel figura veritatis_; but those under grace -are the _corpus veritatis_.[81] The written law, though given fully only -through Moses, began with Abraham, upon whom circumcision was enjoined as -a sacrament and sign of separation from the heathen peoples. In obedience -to its precepts lies the merit, in its promises lies the reward, while its -sacraments aid men to fulfil its precepts and obtain its reward. Hugo -discusses the sacraments of circumcision and burnt-offerings which were -necessary for the remission of sins; then those which exercised the -faithful people in devotion--the peace-offering is an example; and again -those which aided the people to cultivate piety, as the tabernacle and its -utensils. - -Hugo's second Book, which makes the second half of his work, is devoted to -the "time of grace" inaugurated by the Incarnation. It treats in detail -the Christian sacraments and other topics of the Faith, down to the Last -Judgment, when the wicked are cast into hell, and the blessed enter upon -eternal life, where God will be seen eternally, praised without weariness, -and loved without satiety. This blessed lot flows from the grace of the -salvation brought by Christ, and is dependent on the sacraments, the -enduring means of grace. On their part, the sacraments, whatever more they -are, are symbols, in essence and function connected with the symbolical -nature of God's creation, with the prefigurative significance of the -fortunes of God's chosen people until the coming of Christ, with the -import and symbolism of Christ's life and teachings, and with the -symbolism inherent in the organization and building up of Christ's holy -Church. Symbolism and allegory are made part of the constitution of the -world and man; they connect man's body and environment with his spirit, -and link the life of this world with the life to come. Hugo has thus -grounded and established symbolism in the purposes of God, in the -universal scheme of things, and in the nature and destinies of man.[82] - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -CATHEDRAL AND MASS; HYMN AND IMAGINATIVE POEM - - I. GUILELMUS DURANDUS AND VINCENT OF BEAUVAIS. - - II. THE HYMNS OF ADAM OF ST. VICTOR AND THE _Anticlaudianus_ OF ALANUS - OF LILLE. - - -Under sanction of Scriptural interpretation and the sacraments, allegory -and symbolism became accepted principles of spiritual verity, sources of -political argument, and modes of transcendental truth. They penetrated the -Liturgy, charging every sentence and ceremonial act with saving -significance and power; and as plastic influences they imparted form and -matter to religious art and poetry, where they had indeed been potent from -the beginning. - - -I - -In the early Church the office of the Mass, the ordination of priests, and -the dedication of churches were not charged with the elaborate symbolism -carried by these ceremonies in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,[83] -when the Liturgy, or speaking more specifically, the Mass, had become -symbolical from the _introit_ to the last benediction; and Gothic -sculpture and glass painting, which were its visible illustration, had -been impressed with corresponding allegory. Mediaeval liturgic lore is -summed up by Guilelmus Durandus in his _Rationale divinorum officiorum_, -which was composed in the latter part of the thirteenth century, and -contains much that is mirrored in the art of the French cathedrals. It is -impossible to review the elaborate symbolical significance of the Mass as -set forth in the authoritative work of one who was a bishop, theologian, -jurist, and papal regent.[84] But a little of it may be given. - -The office of the Mass, says Durandus, is devised with great forethought, -so as to contain the major part of what was accomplished by and in Christ -from the time when He descended from heaven to the time when He ascended -into heaven. In the sacrifice of the Mass all the sacrifices of the -Ancient Law are represented and superseded. It may be celebrated at the -third hour, because then, according to Mark, Christ ascended the cross, -and at that hour also the Holy Spirit descended upon the Apostles in -tongues of fire; or at the sixth hour, when, according to Matthew, Christ -was crucified; or at the ninth hour, when on the cross He gave up His -spirit. - -The first part of the Mass begins with the _introit_. Its antiphonal -chanting signifies the aspirations and deeds, the prayers and praises of -the patriarchs and prophets who were looking for the coming of the Son of -God. The chorus of chanting clergy represents this yearning multitude of -saints of the Ancient Law. The bishop, clad in his sacred vestments,[85] -at the end of the procession, emerging from the sacristy and advancing to -the altar, represents Christ, the expected of the nations, emerging from -the Virgin's womb and entering the world, even as the Spouse from His -secret chamber. The seven lights borne before him on the chief festivals -are the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit descending upon the head of Christ. -The two acolytes preceding him signify the Law and the Prophets, shown in -Moses and Elias who appeared with Christ on Mount Tabor. The four who bear -the canopy are the four evangelists, declaring the Gospel. The bishop -takes his seat and lays aside his mitre. He is silent, as was Christ -during His early years. The Book of the Gospels lies closed before him. -Around him in the company of clergy are represented the Magi and others. - -The services proceed, every word and act filled with symbolic import. The -reading of the Epistle is reached--that is the preaching of John the -Baptist, who preaches only to the Jews; so the reader turns to the north, -the region of the Ancient Law. The reading ended, he bows before the -bishop, as the Baptist humbled himself before Christ. - -After the Epistle comes the Gradual or _responsorium_, which relates to -penitence and the works of the active life. The Baptist is still the main -figure, until the solemn moment when the Gospel is read, which signifies -the beginning of Christ's preaching. The Creed follows the Gospel, as -faith follows the preaching of the truth. Its twelve parts refer to the -calling of the twelve apostles. Then the bishop begins his sermon; that is -to say, after the calling of the Twelve, the Word of God is preached to -the people, and it henceforth behoves the Church to hold fast to the Creed -which has just been recited.[86] - -The authoritative allegorizing of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries -extended the symbolism of the Mass to the edifice in which it was -celebrated; as the _Rationale_ sets forth in its opening chapter entitled -"De ecclesia et eius partibus." There it is shown that the corporeal -church is the edifice, while the Church, spiritually taken, signifies the -faithful people drawn together from all sorts of men as the edifice is -constructed of all sorts of stones. The various names ecclesia, synagogue, -basilica, and tabernacle are explained; and then why the Church is called -the Body of Christ, and also Virgin, also Spouse, Mother, Daughter, Widow, -and indeed Meretrix, as it shuts its bosom against no one seeking it. The -form of the church conforms to that of Solomon's temple, in the anterior -part of which the people heard and prayed, while the clergy prayed and -preached, gave thanks and ministered, in the sanctuary or sacred place. -Solomon's temple in turn was modelled on the Tabernacle of the Exodus, -which, because it was constructed on a journey, is the type of the world -which passes away and the lust thereof. It was made with the four colours -of the arch of heaven, as the world consists of the four elements. Since -God is in the world, He is in the tabernacle (which also means the Church -militant) and in the midst of the faithful congregation. The anterior part -of the tabernacle, where the people sacrificed, is also the _Vita activa_, -in which the laity labour in neighbourly love; and the portion where the -Levites ministered is the _Vita contemplativa_. - -The church should be erected in the following manner: the place of its -foundation should be made ready--well-founded is the house of the Lord -upon a rock--and the bishop or licensed priest should sprinkle it with -holy water to dispel the demons, and should lay the first stone, on which -should be carved a cross. The head of the church, that is the chancel, -should be set toward the rising sun at the time of the equinox. Now if the -Jews were commanded to build walls for Jerusalem, how much more ought we -to build the walls of our churches? The material church signifies the Holy -Church built of living stones in heaven, with Christ the corner-stone, -upon which are set the foundations of Apostles and Prophets. The walls -above are the Jews and Gentiles, who believing come to Christ from the -four quarters of the world. The faithful people predestined to life are -the stones thereof. - -The mortar in which the stones are set is made of lime, sand, and water. -Lime is fervent love, which takes to itself the sand, that is, earthly -toil; then water, which is the Spirit, unites the lime and sand. As the -stones of the wall would have no stability without the mortar, so men -cannot be set in the walls of the heavenly Jerusalem without love, which -the Holy Spirit brings. The stones of the wall are hewn and squared, which -means sanctified and made clean. Some stones are borne, but do not -themselves bear any burden, and these are the feeble in the Church. Other -stones are borne, yet also bear; while still others bear, but are not -borne, save by Christ alone, the one foundation; and the last are the -perfect. - -The Jews were subject to hostile attack while building the walls of -Jerusalem,[87] so that with one hand they set stones, while they fought -with the other. Likewise are we surrounded by hostile vices as we build -the walls of the Church; but we oppose them with the shield of faith and -the breastplate of righteousness, and the sword of the Word of God in our -hands. - -The church edifice is disposed like the human body. The chancel, where the -altar is, represents the head, and the cross (transept) the arms and -hands. The western portion (nave and aisles) is the rest of the body. But -indeed Richard of St. Victor deems that the three parts of the edifice -represent in order of sanctity, first the virgins, then the continent, and -lastly married people. - -Again, the Church is built with four walls; that is, by the teaching of -the four evangelists it rises broad and high into the altitude of the -virtues. Its length is the long-suffering with which it endures adversity; -its breadth is love, with which it embraces its friends in God, and loves -its enemies for His sake; its height is the hope of future reward. Again, -in God's temple the foundation is faith, which is as to what is not seen; -the roof is charity, which covers a multitude of sins. The door is -obedience--keep the commandments if thou wilt enter into life.[88] The -pavement is humility. The four walls are the four virtues, righteousness, -(_justitia_), fortitude, prudence, and temperance. The windows are glad -hospitality and free-handed pity. - -Some churches are cruciform, to teach us that we are crucified to the -world, or should follow the Crucified. Some are circular, which signifies -that the Church is spread through the circle of the world. - -The apse signifies the faithful laity; the crypts, the hermits. The nave -signifies Christ, through whom lies the way to the heavenly Jerusalem; the -towers are the preachers and prelates, and the pinnacles represent the -prelates' minds which soar on high. Also a weather-cock on top of the -church signifies the preachers, who rouse the sleeping from the night of -sin, and turning ever to the wind, resist the rebellious. The iron rod -upholding the cock is the preacher's sermon; and because this rod is -placed above the cross on the church, it indicates the word of God -finished and confirmed, as Christ said in His passion, "It is finished." -The lofty dome on which the cross is set, signifies how perfect and -inviolate should be the preaching and observance of the Catholic Faith. - -The glass windows of the church are the divine Scriptures, which repel the -wind and rain, but admit the light of the true sun, to wit God, into the -church, that is, into the hearts of the faithful. The windows also signify -the five senses of the body.[89] - -The door of the church (again) is Christ--"I am the Door"; the doors are -also the Apostles. The pillars are the bishops and doctors; their bases -are the apostolic bishops; their capitals are the minds of the doctors and -bishops. The pavement is the foundation of faith, and also signifies the -"poor in spirit," also the common crowd by whose labours the church is -upheld. The rafters are the princes and preachers in the world, who defend -the church by deed and word. The seats in a church are the contemplative -in whom God rests without offence. The panels in the ceiling are also -preachers who adorn and strengthen. - -The chancel, the head of the church, by being lower than the rest, -indicates how great should be the humility of the clergy. The screens by -which the altar is separated from the choir signify the separation of -heavenly beings from things of earth. The choir stalls indicate the body's -need of recreation. The pulpit is the life of the perfect. The horologe -signifies the diligence with which the priests should say the canonical -hours. The tiles of the roof are the knights who protect the church from -pagans. The spiral stairways concealed within the walls are the secret -knowledge had only by those who ascend to the heavenly places. The -sacristy, where the holy utensils are kept and the priest puts on his -vestments, signifies the womb of the most holy Virgin, in which Christ put -on His sacred garb of flesh. From thence the priest emerges before the -public, as Christ went forth from the Virgin's womb into the world. The -lamp signifies Christ, who is the light of the world; or the lamps -signify the Apostles and other doctors, whose doctrine lights the church. -Moses also made seven lights, which are the seven gifts of the Holy -Spirit. - -Durandus next devotes a whole chapter to the symbolism of the altar, and -another to the significance and function of ornaments, pictures, and -sculpture. The latter opens with the words: "The pictures and ornaments in -a church are the texts and scriptures (_lectiones et scripturae_) of the -laity." This chapter is long; it explains how Christ and the angels, also -saints, Apostles and others, should be represented, and describes the -proper kinds of church ornament and utensils. Much of the detail is -symbolical. - -Thus Durandus devised or brought together meanings to fit each bit of the -church edifice, its materials and furnishings. In the work of a -contemporary are stored the allegorical meanings of the subjects of Gothic -sculpture and painted glass. The thirteenth century had a weakness for the -word "Speculum," and the idea it carried of a mirror or compendium of all -human knowledge. The chief of mediaeval encyclopaedists was Vincent of -Beauvais, a _protégé_ of the saintly King Louis IX. An analysis of his -huge _Speculum majus_ is given elsewhere.[90] It was made up of the Mirror -of Nature, the Mirror of human Knowledge and Ethics, and the Mirror of -History. The compiler and his assistants laboured during the best period -of Gothic art, and from their work, industry may draw an exhaustive -commentary upon the series of topics presented by the sculpture and glass -of a cathedral.[91] - -The Mirror of Nature appears carved in the sculpture of Chartres or -Bourges. In rendering the work of the Six Days, the Creator is shown -(under the form of Christ)[92] contemplating His work, or resting from -His toil; here and there a lion, sheep, or goat, suggests the animal -creation, and a few trees the vegetable world. This is the necessary -symbolism of the sculptor's art. But Gothic animals and plants sometimes -have other definite symbolic meanings, as in the instance of the -well-known signs of the four Evangelists, the man, the lion, the ox, the -eagle. The allegorical interpretations of Scripture were an exhaustless -source of symbolism for Gothic sculptors; another was the _Physiologus_ -and its progeny of Bestiaries, with their symbolic explanations of the -legendary attributes of animals. Intentional symbolism, however, did not -inhere in all this carving, much of which is sheer fancy and decoration. -Such was the character of the splendid Gothic flora, of the birds and -beasts that move in it, and of the grotesque monsters. They were not out -of place, since the Gothic cathedral was itself a Speculum or Summa, and -should include the whole of God's creation, not omitting even the devils -who beset men's souls. - -Vincent may have drawn from Hugo of St Victor the current doctrine that -the arts have part in the work of man's restoration; a doctrine abundantly -justifying the presence of the sciences and crafts (composing the Mirror -of Knowledge) in the sculpture and painting of the cathedral. There the -Seven Liberal Arts are rendered, through allegorical figures; and the -months of the year are symbolized in the Zodiac and the labours of the -field which make up man's annual toil. Philosophy is shown and Fortune's -wheel; the Virtues and Vices are represented in personifications, and even -their conflict, the Psychomachia, may be shown. - -At last the Mirror of History is reached. This will teach in concrete -examples what has been learned from the figures of the abstract Virtues -and Vices. Its chief source is the Bible. Those Old Testament incidents -were selected which for centuries had been interpreted as prefigurements -of the life of Christ; and each was presented as a pendant to the Gospel -scene which it typified. These make the chief subjects of the coloured -glass of Chartres and Bourges and other cathedrals where the windows are -preserved. Here may be seen the Passion of Christ, surrounded by scenes -from the Old Testament typifying it; likewise His Resurrection and its -ancient types; and other significant incidents in the life of the Saviour -and His virgin mother.[93] The latter is typified by the burning bush, by -the fleece of Gideon, by the rod of Aaron, even as in the hymns of Adam of -Saint-Victor.[94] Besides these incidents, leading personages of the Old -Testament are presented as prefigurative of Christ, as in the great series -of statues of Melchizedek, Abraham, Moses, Samuel, David, on the north -portal of Chartres; while the four greater and twelve minor prophets are -shown as types of the four Evangelists and the twelve Apostles. Christ -himself is depicted on a window at St. Denis, between the allegorical -figures of the Ancient Law and the Gospel,--figures which are allied to -those of the uncrowned and blinded Synagogue and the triumphant Church, so -frequently seen together upon cathedrals. Everywhere the tendency to -symbolize is strong. Parts of the Crucifixion scene are rendered -symbolically, and many of the parables. That of the Good Samaritan -constantly appears upon the windows, and is always designed so as to -convey the allegorical teaching drawn from it in Honorius's sermon.[95] - -Obviously this Mirror of History was chiefly sacred history. Pagan -antiquity was scantily suggested by the Sibyls, who stand for the dumb -pagan prophecy of Christ. Scenes from the history of Christian nations -were more frequent; but they always told of some victory for Christ, like -the baptism of Clovis, or the crusading deeds of Charlemagne, Roland or -Godfrey of Bouillon. God's drama closed with the Last Judgment, the -damnation of the damned and the beatitude of the elect. The Last -Judgments, usually over-arching the tympanums above cathedral doors, are -known to all--as at Rheims, at Chartres, at Bourges. They are full of -symbolism, and full of "historic" reality as well. The treatment becomes -entirely allegorical when the sculptor enters Paradise with the redeemed, -and portrays in lovely personifications the beatitudes of the blessed, as -on the north portal of Chartres. - -Those bands of nameless men who carved the statues and designed the -coloured glass which were to make Gothic cathedrals speak, faithfully -presented the teachings of the Church. They rendered the sacred drama of -mankind's creation, fall, redemption, and final judgment unto hell or -heaven: they rendered it in all its dogmatic symbolism, and with a plastic -adequacy showing how completely they thought and felt in the allegorical -medium in which they worked. They also created matchless ideals of -symbolism in art. The statuary of the portals and façades of Rheims and -Chartres are in their way comparable to the sculptures of the pediment of -the Parthenon. But unlike those masterpieces of antique idealism, these -Christian masterpieces do not seek to set forth mortal man in his natural -strength and beauty and completeness. Rather they seek to show the working -of the human spirit held within the power and grace of God. Theirs is not -the strength and beauty of the flesh, or the excellence of the -unconquerable mind of man; but in them man's mind and spirit are palpably -the devout creatures of God's omnipotence, obedient to His will, sustained -and redeemed by His power and grace. Attitude, form, feature, alike -designed to express the sacred beauty of the soul, are not invested with -physical excellence for its own sake; but every physical quality of these -statues is a symbol of some holy and beautiful quality of spirit. These -statues attain a symbolic, and not a natural, ideal in art. Yet many of -them possess the physical beauty of form and feature, inasmuch as such may -be the proper envelope for the chaste and eager soul.[96] - -On the other hand, in the filling out of the illustrative detail of life -on earth, of handicraft and art, the sculptor showed how he could carve -these actualities, and present earth's beauty in the cathedral's wealth of -vine and flower and leaf. The level commonplace of humanity is deftly -rendered, the daily doings of the forge and field and market-place, the -tugging labourer, the merchant with his stuffs, the scholar with his -scrolls. He knew life well, this artist, and had an eye for every catching -scene, also for Nature's subtle beauties. Sometimes a certain passing show -was represented because a window was given by some drapers' guild, -desirous of seeing its craft shown in a place of honour; and the artist -loved his scenes from busy life, as he loved his ornament from Nature. -Such scenes (which rarely held specific allegory) were not unconnected -with the rest of the drama of creation and redemption mirrored in the -cathedral, nor was the exquisitely cut leaf and rose without its -suggestion of the grace incarnate in the Virgin and her Son. Daily life -and natural ornament had at least an illustrative pertinency to the whole, -of which they were unobtrusive and lovely elements; and since that whole -was primarily a visible symbol of the unseen and divine power, these -humble elements had part in its unutterable mystery, and were likewise -symbols. - -Finally, have not these nameless artists--even as Dante and our English -Bunyan--presented by their art a synthesis of life's realities? Their feet -were on the earth; with sympathy and knowledge their hands worked in the -media of things seen and handled, and fashioned the little human matters -which are bounded by the cradle and the grave. Such were the materials -from which Dante formed his _Commedia_, and Bunyan drew the Progress of -his Pilgrim soul to God. Yet as with Bunyan and Dante, so with these -artists in stone and coloured light, the mortal and the tangible were but -the elements through which the poem or story, or the carved or painted -picture, was made the realizing symbol of the unseen and eternal Spirit. - - -II - -Beneath the Abbey Church of Saint-Victor there was a crypt consecrated to -the Mother of God. Here a certain monk was wont to retire and compose -hymns in her honour. One day his lips uttered the lines: - - "Salve, mater pietatis, - Et totius Trinitatis - Nobile triclinium; - Verbi tamen incarnati - Speciale majestati - Praeparans hospitium!" - -Whereupon a flood of light filled the crypt, and the Virgin, appearing to -him, inclined her head. - -The monk's name was Adam,[97] and he is deemed the best of Latin -hymn-writers. Breton born, he entered Saint-Victor in his youth, about the -year 1130. He was favoured with the instruction of Hugo till the master's -death in 1141. Adam must have been of nearly the same age as Richard of -Saint-Victor, that other pupil of Hugo who makes the third member of the -great Victorine trio. Their works have been the monastery's fairest fame. -Hugo was a Saxon; Adam a Breton; Richard was Scotch. So Saint-Victor drew -her brilliant sons from many lands. Richard, whose writings worthily -supplemented those of his master Hugo,[98] died in 1173; his friend Adam -outlived him, and died an old man as the twelfth century was closing. He -was buried in the cloister, and over him was placed an elegiac epitaph -upon human vanity and sin, in part his own composition. - -Adam's hymns were Sequences[99] intended for church use. Their author was -learned in Christian doctrine, skilled in the Liturgy, and saturated with -the spirit of devotional symbolism. His symbolism, which his gift of verse -made into imagery, was that of the mediaeval church and its understanding -of the Liturgy; he also shows the special influence of Hugo. Adam's hymns, -with their powerful Latin rhymes, cannot be reproduced in English; but a -translation may give the contents of their symbolism. The hymn for Easter, -beginning "Zyma vetus expurgetur,"[100] is an epitome of the symbolic -prefiguration of Christ in the Old Testament. Each familiar allegorical -interpretation flashes in a phrase. Literally translated, or rather -maltreated, it is as follows: - - "Let the old leaven be purged away that a new resurrection may be - celebrated purely. This is the day of our hope; wonderful is the power - of this day by the testimony of the law. - - "This day despoiled Egypt, and liberated the Hebrews from the fiery - furnace; for them in wretched straits the work of servitude was mud - and brick and straw.[101] - - "Now as praise of divine virtue, of triumph, of salvation, let the - voice break free! This is the day which the Lord made, the day ending - our grief, the day bringing salvation. - - "The Law is the shadow of things to come, Christ the goal of promises, - who completes all. Christ's blood blunts the sword the guardians - removed.[102] - - "The Boy, type of our laughter, in whose stead the ram was slain, - seals life's joy.[103] Joseph issues from the pit;[104] Christ returns - above after death's punishment. - - "This serpent devours the serpents of Pharaoh secure from the - serpent's spite.[105] Whom the fire wounded, them the brazen serpent's - presence freed.[106] - - "The hook and ring of Christ pierce the dragon's jaw;[107] the sucking - child puts his hand into the cockatrice's den, and the old tenant of - the world flees affrighted.[108] - - "The mockers of Elisha ascending the house of God, feel the - bald-head's wrath;[109] David, feigning madness, the goat cast forth, - and the sparrow escape.[110] - - "With a jaw-bone Samson slays a thousand and spurns the marriage of - his tribe. Samson bursts the bars of Gaza, and, carrying its gates, - scales the mountain's crest.[111] - - "So the strong Lion of Judah, shattering the gates of dreadful death, - rises the third day; at His father's roaring voice, He carries aloft - His spoils to the bosom of the supernal mother.[112] - - "After three days the whale gives back from his belly's narrow house - Jonas the fugitive, type of the true Jonas. The grape of Cyprus[113] - blooms again, opens and grows apace. The synagogue's flower withers, - while flourishes the Church.[114] - - "Death and life fought together: truly Christ arose, and with Him many - witnesses of glory. A new morn, a glad morn shall wipe away the tears - of evening: life overcame destruction; it is a time of joy. - - "Jesu victor, Jesu life, Jesu life's beaten way, thou whose death - quelled death, bid us to the paschal board in trust. O Bread of life, - O living Wave, O true and fruitful Vine, do thou feed us, do thou - cleanse us, that thy grace may save us from the second death. Amen." - -From the time of that old third-century hymn ascribed to Clement of -Alexandria,[115] hymns to Christ had been filled with symbolism, the -symbolism of loving personification of His attributes, as well as with the -more formal symbolism of His Old Testament prefigurements. Adam's -symbolism is of both kinds. It has feeling even when dogmatic,[116] and -throbs with devotion as its theme approaches the Gospel Christ. Prevailing -modes of thought and feeling may prescribe topics for verse which a -succeeding age will find curiously unpoetic. Yet if the later time have a -sympathetic understanding for the past, it will recognize how fervid and -how songful was that bygone verse--the verse of Adam's hymns, for -instance. In one for Christmas Day, beginning: - - "Potestate, non natura, - Fit Creator creatura,"[117] - -a stanza touches on the reason why the Creator thus became creature. It -would be impossible to render its feeling in English, and much -circumlocution would be needed to express even its literal meaning in any -language but mediaeval Latin. This stanza has twelve lines: - - "Causam quaeris, modum rei: - Causa prius omnes rei, - Modus justum velle Dei, - Sed conditum gratia." - - "Thou askest cause and _modus_ of the fact: the _causa rei_ was before - all, the _modus_ was God's righteous willing, but seasoned with - grace." - -These lines are scholastic. In the next four, the feeling begins to rise, -yet the phrases repel rather than attract us: - - "O quam dulce condimentum - Nobis mutans in pigmentum, - Cum aceto fel cruentum - Degustante Messya!" - - "Oh! how sweet the condiment changing for us into juice, as the - Messiah tastes the bloody gall and vinegar." - -The feeling touches its climax with the four concluding lines, in which -the parable of the Good Samaritan is invested with the special allegorical -significance set forth in the sermon of Honorius:[118] - - "O salubre sacramentum, - Quod nos ponit in jumentum - Plagis nostris dans unguentum - Ille de Samaria." - - "O health-giving sacrament which sets us on a beast, giving ointment - for our stripes,--he of Samaria."[119] - -Two stanzas from another of Adam's Christmas hymns will show how -curiously intricate could be his symbolism. Having spoken of the ineffable -wonder of the Incarnation, he proceeds: - - "Frondem, florem, nucem sicca - Virga profert, et pudica - Virgo Dei Filium. - Fert coelestem vellus rorem, - Creatura creatorem, - Creaturae pretium. - - "Frondis, floris, nucis, roris - Pietati Salvatoris - Congruunt mysteria. - Frons est Christus protegendo, - Flos dulcore, nux pascendo, - Ros coelesti gratia."[120] - - "A dry rod puts forth leafage, flower, nut,[121] and a chaste Virgin - brings forth the Son of God. A fleece bears heavenly dew,[122] a - creature the Creator, the creature's price. - - "The mysteries of leafage, flower, nut, dew are suited to the - Saviour's tender love (_pietas_). The foliage by its protecting is - Christ, the flower is Christ by its sweetness, the nut as it yields - food, the dew by its celestial grace." - -One observes that here the symbolism first touches Christ's birth, the dry -rod and the fleece representing the Virgin. Then the leafage, flower, nut -and dew typify His qualities. The remaining stanzas of this hymn carry out -in further detail the symbolism of the nut. - -Besides the hymns devoted to the Saviour, the greater part of Adam's hymns -are symbolical throughout. Those written for the dedication of churches -are among the most interesting. One beginning "Quam dilecta -tabernacula"[123] sketches the Old Testament facts which prefigure -Christ's holy Church. The keynote is in the lines: - - "Quam decora fundamenta - Per concinna sacramenta - Umbra praecurrentia!" - - "How seemly the foundations through the appropriate sacraments, the - forerunning shadow." - -The shadow is the Old Testament, and these three lines sum up the teaching -of Hugo as to the sacramental nature of the Old Testament narratives. -Throughout this hymn Adam follows Hugo closely.[124] In another dedicatory -hymn[125] Adam gives the prefigurative meaning of the parts of Solomon's -temple. There is likewise much symbolism in the grand hymns addressed to -the Virgin. One for the festival of the Assumption[126] gives the figures -of the Virgin in the Old Testament--the throne of Solomon, the fleece of -Gideon, the burning bush. Then with more feeling the metaphorical epithets -pour forth, voicing the heart's gratitude to the Virgin's saving aid to -man. A still more splendid example of like symbolism and ardent metaphor -is the great hymn beginning: - - "Salve mater Salvatoris, - Vas electum, vas honoris," - -which won the Virgin's greeting for the poet.[127] - -The lives of Honorius, of Hugo, of Adam, from whose works we have been -drawing illustrations of mediaeval symbolism, vie with each other in -obscurity; and properly enough since they were monks, for whom -self-effacement is becoming. This personal obscurity culminates with one -last example to be drawn from monastic sources. The man himself was an -impressive figure in his time; a sight of him was not to be forgotten: he -was called _magnus_ and _doctor universalis_. Nevertheless it has been -questioned whether he lived in the twelfth or the thirteenth century, and -whether one man or two bore the name of Alanus de Insulis. - -There was in fact but one, and he belongs to the twelfth century, dying -almost a centenarian, in the year 1202. The cognomen _de Insulis_ has also -been an enigma. From it he has been dubbed a Sicilian, and then a Scot, -born on the island of Mona. But the name in reality refers to the chief -town of Flanders, which is called Lisle; and Alanus doubtless was a -Fleming. - -He became a learned man, and lectured at Paris. That he was possessed with -no small opinion of his talents would appear from the legend told of him -as well as of St. Augustine. He had announced that on a certain day in a -single lecture he would set forth the complete doctrine of the mystery of -the most Holy Trinity. The afternoon before the day appointed, he walked -by the river, thinking how he should arrange his subject so as to include -it all. He chanced upon a child who was dipping up the river water with a -snail shell and dropping it into a little trench. Smiling, he asked what -should be the object of this; and the child told him that he was putting -the whole river into his trench. As the great scholar was explaining that -this could not be done, he suddenly felt himself chidden and taught--how -much less might he perform what he had set for the next morning. He stood -speechless at his presumption, and burst into tears. The next day -ascending the platform he said to the crowd of auditors, "Let it suffice -you to have seen Alanus";[128] and with that he left them all astonished, -and himself hastily set out for Citeaux. On arrival he asked to be -admitted as a _conversus_, and was given charge of the monastery's sheep. -Patient and unknown, he long plied this humble vocation. But at length it -chanced that the abbot took him to a council at Rome, in the capacity of -hostler. And there he beat down the arrogance of a heretic with such -arguments that the latter cried out that he was disputing either with the -devil or Alanus, and would say no more. - -Such is one story. By another he is made to seek the monastery of -Clairvaux, and there become a monk under St. Bernard. It is also written -that he became an abbot, and then a bishop, but afterwards resigned his -bishopric. However all this may have been, he died and was buried, and was -subjected to many epitaphs. On what purports to be an old copy of his tomb -at Citeaux, he is shown with St. Bernard, and called Alanus Magnus. The -title _Doctor universalis_ has always clung to his memory, which will not -altogether fade. For if Adam of Saint-Victor was the greatest of Latin -mediaeval hymn-writers, Alanus has good claim to be called the greatest of -mediaeval Latin poets in the field of didactic and narrative poetry.[129] - -The many works ascribed to Alanus include an allegorical Commentary on -Canticles, a treatise on the art of preaching, a book of _sententiae_, -another of _theologicae regulae_, sundry sermons, and a lengthy work -"contra haereticos"; also a large dictionary of Biblical allegorical -interpretations, entitled _Liber in distinctionibus dictionum -theologicalium_.[130] All these are prose. He composed besides his _Liber -de planctu naturae_,[131] and his _Anticlaudianus_, a learned and -profound, and likewise highly imaginative allegorical poem upon man.[132] -Its Preface in prose casts a curious light upon the author's enigmatical -personality, which combined the wonted or conventional humility of a monk -with the towering self-consciousness of a man of genius. - - "The lightning scorns to spend its force on twigs, but breaks the - proud tops of exalted trees. The wind's imperious rage passes over the - reed and drives the assaults of its wild blasts against the highest - summits. Wherefore let not envy's flame strike the pinched humility of - my work, nor detraction's breath overwhelm the driven poverty of my - little book, where misery's wreck demands a port of pity, far more - than felicity provokes the sting of spite." - -More sentences of turgid deprecation follow, and the author begs the -reader not to approach his book with disgust and irritation, but with -pleasant anticipations of novelty (not all a monk speaks here!). - - "For although the book may not bloom with the purple vestment of - flowering speech, nor shine with the constellated light of the - flashing period, still in the tenuity of the fragile reed the honey's - sweetness may be found, and parched thirst can be tempered with the - scant water of a rill. In this book let nothing be made vulgar - (_plebescat_) with ribaldry, nor let anything be open to biting - reproof, as if it smacked of the coarseness of the moderns [to whom - does he refer?]; but let the flower of my talent be presented, and the - dignity of diligence; for pigmy humility, thus raised upon a height, - may overtop the giant. Let not those dare to tire of this work, who - are squalling in the cradles of elementary instruction, sucking milk - from nurses' paps; nor let those seek to cry it down, who are pledged - to the service of the higher learning; nor those presume to discredit - it, who strike heaven from the top-notch of philosophy. For in this - work, the sweetness of the literal meaning will tickle the puerile - ear; moral teaching will instruct the more proficient understanding; - and the finer subtilty of allegory will sharpen the finished - intellect. Wherefore let all those be kept from ingress who, abandoned - to the mirrors of the senses, are not charioteered by reason, and, - pursuing the sense-image, have no appetite for reason's truth,--lest - indeed what is holy be defiled by dogs, and the pearl be trampled by - the feet of swine. But such as will not suffer the things of reason to - rest with the base images, and dare to lift their view to forms - divine, may thread the narrow passes of my book, while they weigh with - discretion's scales what is suited to the common ear, and what should - be buried in silence." - -This Preface of strained sentence and laboured metaphor, of forced -humility and overweening self-consciousness, hardly augurs well for the -poem of which it is the prelude. But prefaces are authors' pitfalls, and, -moreover, many writers have floundered in one medium of speech while in -another they have moved with ease. From the ungainly prose of the -_Persones Tale_, no one would expect the ease and force of Chaucer's -verse. And the reader of Alanus's Preface need not be discouraged from -entering upon his poem. Its subject is man; its philosophic or religious -purpose is to expound the functions of God, of Nature, of Fortune, of -Virtue and Vice, in making man and shaping his career. The poem is an -allegory, original in its general scheme of composition, but in many of -its parts following earlier allegorical writings. - -The opening lines tell of Nature's solicitude to bestow her gifts so that -the finished work may present a fair harmony: as a patient workman she -forges, trims and files, and fashions with reason's chisel. But when she -seeks to invest her work with qualities beyond her giving, she is obliged -to call on the Celestial Council of her Sisters. Responding, pilgrim-like -the Crown of Heaven's soldiery comes from on high, brightens the earth -with its light, and clothes the ground with blessed footprints. - -Leading this galaxy, Concord advances, foster-child of Peace; then Plenty -comes, and Favour, and Youth with favour anointed, and Laughter, banisher -of mental mists; then Shame and Modesty, and Reason the measure of good, -and Honesty, Reason's happy comrade; then Dignity (_decus_) and Prudence -balancing her scales, and Piety and true Faith, and Virtue. Last of all -Nobility (_nobilitas_), in grace not quite the others' equal.[133] - -In the midst of a great wood blessed with fountains and multitudinous -bird-song, a cloud-kissing mountain rose with level top. Nature's palace -was erected here, gemmed and golden; and within was a great hall hung upon -bronze columns. Here the painter's art had rendered the ways of men, and -inscriptions made plain the pictured story. "O new wonders of painting," -exclaims the poet; "what cannot be, comes into being; and painting, the -ape of truth, deluding with novel art, turns shadows to realities, and -transforms particular falsehood into (general) truth."[134] There might be -seen the power of logic pressing its arguments and conquering sophistry. -There Aristotle was preparing his arms, and, more divinely, Plato mused on -heaven's secrets. There Seneca moralized, and Ptolemy explained the stars -in their times and courses. There spoke the word of Tully, while Virgil's -muse painted many lies, and put truth's garb on falsehood. There was also -shown the might of Alcides and Ulysses' wisdom, Turnus's valour prodigal -of life, and Hippolytus's shame, undone by Venus's reins.[135] Such and -many other tropes of things and dreams of truth, this royal art set -forth. - -Here, standing in the midst of her Council, Nature, with bowed head, spoke -her solemn words: "Painfully I remake what my hand's solicitude has -wrought. But the hand's penitence does not wipe out the flaws. The -shortcomings of our works must be repaired by some perfect model, some man -divine, not smelling of the earth and earthly, but whose mind shall hold -to heaven while his body walks the earth. Let him be the mirror in which -we may see what our faith, our potency, and virtue ought to be. As it is, -our shame is over all the earth." - -When the Council had approved these words, Prudence arose in all her -beauty.[136] She discoursed upon man's dual nature, spirit and body. -Nature and her helpers may be the artificers of his mortal body, but the -soul demands its heavenly Artificer, and laughs at our rude arts. God's -wisdom alone can create the soul, as Prudence shows by an exposition of -its qualities. - -Now Reason raised his reverend form, holding his triple glass in which -appear the causes and effects and qualities of things. He humbly -disclaimed the power to instruct Minerva,[137] and applauded the plan by -which a new Lucifer should sojourn in the world. May he unite all the -gifts which they can bestow, and be their champion against the Vices. Now -let their suppliant vows be sped to Him who alone can create the divine -mind. A legate should be despatched above, bearing their request. For this -office none is so fit as Prudence, to whom the secrets of Heaven are -known, and whose energy and wisdom will surmount the difficulties of the -way. - -Prudence at first refuses; but Concordia rises, the inspirer of chaste -loves, she who knit the souls of David and Jonathan, Pirithous and -Theseus, Nisus and Euryalus, Orestes and Pylades. Persuasively she speaks, -and points out all the ills the world had suffered by disobedience to her -behests. Prudence is won over to the task, and now wills only as her -sisters will. She thinks upon the means and way. Wisdom orders a chariot -to be made, in which the sea, the stars, the heavens may be traversed. Its -artificers are her seven daughters, wise and fair, who unite the skill and -knowledge of all those wise ancients who had excelled in any Art. First -Grammar (her functions and great writers being told) forms the pole which -goes before the axle-tree (_temo praeambulus axis_). Then Logic makes the -axle-tree; and Rhetoric adorns the pole with gems and the axle with -flowers. Arithmetic constructs one wheel of the chariot, and Music the -second, Geometry the third, and the fourth wheel is made by -Astronomy.[138] - -Now Reason, at Nature's nod, yokes to the chariot the five horses, to wit, -the Senses disciplined and controlled, Sight, Hearing, Smell, Taste, and -Touch. He himself mounts as charioteer, and bids Prudence follow. Amid the -farewells and plaudits of all, the chariot soars aloft. As it speeds -along, Prudence investigates atmospheric phenomena, and then the spirits -of evil who wander through the air. They passed on through the upper -ether, reached the citadel and fount of light, where the Sun holds sway; -next was reached the region where Venus and the star of Mercury sing -together and Lucifer exults, the herald of the day. Then to their rapid -flight appeared Mars' flaming palace, seething with fire and wrath. Onward -they passed to the glad light and unhurtful flames of Jupiter, and then to -Saturn's sphere. At length they ascended the stellar region where the Pole -stars contend in brightness, where are seen Hercules and Orion, Leda's -twins, the fiery Crab, the Lion, and the rest of the Zodiac's -constellations.[139] - -Here at heaven's entrance the chariot halted. Those five horses of the -Senses, charioteered by Reason, could ascend no farther. But a damsel was -seen, seated upon the summit of the Pole. She scrutinizes the hidden Cause -and End of all things, holding scales in her right hand and in her left a -sceptre. On her vestments a subtile point traces God's secrets, and the -formless is figured in form. Reverently Phronesis, that is Prudence, -saluted this Queen of the Pole, and set forth the purpose of her journey, -telling of Nature's desire and her limitations. In reply Theology, for it -is she,[140] offered herself as a companion, and bade Prudence leave her -chariot, but keep the second courser (Hearing) to bear her on. Prudence -now surmounted the starry citadels, and marvelled at heaven's nodes, where -the four ways begin and the crystalline waters flow, shot with agreeing -fires; for here, in universal harmony transcending Nature's laws and -Reason's power, Concord unites those elements which war below. Onward -leads the way among those joys celestial which know no tears, where there -is peace without hate, and light above all brightness. Here dwell the -angel bands, the Thunderer's princes, regulators of the world; here glow -the seraphim, and cherubim drain draughts from the mind of God; and here -are the Thrones whereon God balances His weighed decrees, and with His -band of Powers conquers the tyrants.[141] Here also rest the saints, freed -from earth's dross and passion, clothed in virgin white or martyr's -purple, or wearing the Doctor's laurel. Joyful alike are they, yet diverse -in merit, shining with unequal splendour.[142] Here finally, in honour -surpassing all, is the Virgin Mother, clad in the garb of our -salvation--Star of the Sea, Way of Life, Port of Salvation, Limit of -Piety, Mother of Pity, Garden closed, Sealed Font, Fruitful Olive, Sweet -Paradise, Rose without Thorn, Guiltless Grace, Way of the Wanderer, Light -of the Blind, Rest of the Tired--untold, unnumbered, and unspeakable are -her praises.[143] - -Phronesis cannot bear the sight. Queen Theology calls to her sister Faith -to aid the fainting one. Faith comes and holds her Mirror before the eyes -of Phronesis; and in this glass her eyes can endure the shaded glory of -the overpowering vision. She staggers on, her trembling steps supported -by Faith and Theology. In the glass she sees the eternal and divine, the -enduring, moveless, sure; species unborn, celestial ideas, the forms of -men and principles of things, causes of causes and the course of fate, the -Thunderer's mind; why God condemns some, predestines others, prepares that -one for life and from this one withdraws His rewards; why poverty presses -upon some and want is filled only with tears; why riches pour on others, -why one is wise, another lacking, and why the worthies of the past have -been endowed each with his several gifts.[144] - -Marvelling at all these sights, Prudence, supported by the sisters, -reached at last the palace of the King, and fell prostrate before God -himself. He bade her rise, and speak. Humbly she set forth Nature's plight -and the evil upon earth, and presented her petition. God accedes -benignantly. He will not destroy the earth again, but will send a human -spirit endowed with heavenly gifts, a pilgrim to the earth, a medicine for -the world. Prudence worships. God summons Mind, and orders him to fashion -the type-form, the idea of the human mind. Mind searches among existing -beings for the traces of this new _idea_ or type.[145] His difficult -search succeeds at last, and in the Mirror which he constructs, every -grace takes its abode: Joseph's form, the intelligence of Judith, the -patience of righteous Job, the modesty of Moses, Jacob's simplicity, -Abraham's faith, Tobias's piety. He presents this pattern-type to God, who -sets an accordant soul therein, and then entrusts the new-made being to -Phronesis, while Mind anoints it with an unguent against the attacks of -the Vices. Phronesis, with her prize, turned to the way by which she had -ascended, regained her chariot and Reason her charioteer. Together they -sped back to the congratulations of Nature and her Council. - -For this perfect soul Nature now forms a beautiful body. Concord unites -the two, and a new man is formed, perfect and free from flaw. Chastity and -guardian Modesty endow him with their gifts; Reason adds his, and Honesty. -These Logic follows, with her gift of skill in argument; Rhetoric brings -her stores, then Arithmetic, next Music, next Geometry, next -Astronomy;[146] while Theology and Piety are not behind with theirs; and -to these Faith joins her gifts of fidelity and truth. Last of all comes -Nobility, Fortune's daughter. But because she has nothing of her own to -give, and must receive all from her mother, she betakes herself to -Fortune's house of splendid mutability. What will Fortune give? The two -return to Nature's palace, and Fortune's magnificence is proffered by her -daughter; but Reason, standing by, will allow only a measured -acceptance.[147] - -The report of this richly endowed creature reached Alecto. Raging she -summoned her pests, the chiefs of Tartarus, doers of ill, masters of every -sin--Injury, Fraud, Perjury, Theft, Rapine, Fury and Anger, Hate, Discord, -Strife, Disease and Melancholy, Lust, Wantonness and Need, Fear and Old -Age. She roused them with a harangue: their rule is threatened by this -upstart Creature, whom Parent Nature has prepared for war; but what can -his untried imbecility do against them in arms? - -All clamour assent, and in a tumult of rage make ready for the strife. The -hostile ranks approach. The first attack is made by Folly (_Stultitia_) -and her comrades, Sloth, Gaming, Idle Jesting, Ease and Sleep. But -faithful Virtues protect the constant youth against these foes. Next -Discord leads its mutinous band, but only to defeat. Onslaughts follow -from Poverty, next from Ill-Repute, from Old Age and Disease. Then -Grieving advances, and is overthrown by Laughter. More deadly still are -the attacks of Venus and Lust; then Excess and Wantonness take up the -fray; and at the end Impiety and Fraud and Avarice. But still the man -conquers with the aid of his Virtues ever true. - -The fight is over. The Virtues triumph and receive their Kingdoms; Vice -succumbs; Love reigns instead of Discord; the man is blessed; and the -earth, adorned with flowers in a new spring of youth, brings forth -abundance. The Poet sums up his poem's teaching: From God must everything -begin and in Him end. But our genius may not stand inert; ours is the -strife as well, according to our strength and faculty. Let the mind attach -itself to the things which are and do not pass, even as Plato sings, from -things of sense reaching on ever to the grades Angelic and Olympus's -steeps. Then it shall behold the universal praise of God and the true -ascription of all good to Him. He in himself is perfect, Part and likewise -Whole, and everywhere uncircumscribed. Nothing has power in itself, but -all would fall to nothing, did He close the flux of hidden power. - -Alanus, a good Christian Doctor, is also an eclectic in his thought. A -consistent system is hardly to be drawn from his poem. It suggests Christ. -But its hero is not the God-man of the Incarnation. Its figures are -semi-pagan. The virtue Faith, for example, is the Fides, the Good Faith, -of the antique Roman, though it is the Christian virtue Faith as well. In -language the poem is antique; its verse has vigorous flow; its imagery -lacks neither beauty nor sublimity. It is in fact a poem, a creation, -having a scheme and unity of its own, although the author borrows -continually. Martianus Capella is there and Dionysius the Areopagite; -there also is the _Psychomachia_ of Prudentius and its progeny of symbolic -battles between the Virtues and the Vices.[148] Yet Alanus has achieved; -for he has woven his material into a real poem and has reared his own -lofty allegory. His work is another grand example of mediaeval symbolism. - -Thus we see the ceaseless sweep of allegory through men's minds. They felt -and thought and dreamed in allegories; and also spent their dry ingenuity -on allegorical constructions. It was reserved for one supreme poet to -create, out of this atmosphere, a supreme poem which is as complete an -allegory as the _Anticlaudianus_. But the _Divina Commedia_ has also the -power of its human realities of actually experienced pain and joy, and -hate and love. Compared with it, the _Anticlaudianus_ betrays the -vapourings of monk and doctor, imaginative indeed, but thin. The author's -feet were not planted on the earth of human life. - -But the Middle Ages did not demand that allegory should have its feet -planted on the earth, so long as its head nodded high among the clouds--or -its sentiments wandered sweetly in fancy's gardens. In one of these dwelt -that lovely Rose, whose _Roman_ once had vogue. In structure the _Roman de -la rose_ is an allegory from the beginning of the first part by De Lorris -to the very end of that encyclopaedic sequel added by De Meun. The story -is well known.[149] One may recall the fact that in De Lorris's poem and -De Meun's sequel every quality and circumstance of Love's sentiment and -fortunes are figured in allegorical personifications--all the lover's -hopes and fears and the wavering chances of his quest. - -In this respect the poem is the courtly and romantic counterpart of such a -philosophical or religious allegory as the _Anticlaudianus_. -Personifications of the arts and sciences, the vices and virtues, current -since the time of Prudentius's _Psychomachia_ and Capella's _Nuptials of -Philology_, were all in the _Anticlaudianus_, while in the _Roman de la -rose_ figure their secular and romantic kin: in De Lorris's part, Love, -Fair-Welcome, Danger, Reason, Franchise, Pity, Courtesy, Shame, Fear, -Idleness, Jealousy, Wicked-Tongue; then, with De Meun, others besides: -Richesse, False-Seeming, Hypocrisy, Nature, and Genius.[150] The figures -of the _Roman de la rose_ have diverse antecedents scattered through the -entire store of knowledge and classic literature possessed by the Middle -Ages; perhaps their immediate source of inspiration was the scheme of -courtly love which the mediaeval imagination elaborated and revelled -in.[151] The poem of De Lorris was a veritable romantic allegory. De Meun, -in his sequel, rather plays with the allegorical form, which he continues; -it has become a frame for his stores of learning, his knowledge of the -world, his views of life, his wit and satire, and his great literary and -poetic gifts. Yet it ends in a regular _Psychomachia_, in which Love's -barons are hard beset by all the foes of Love's delight, though Love has -its will at last. - - - - -BOOK VI - -LATINITY AND LAW - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -THE SPELL OF THE CLASSICS - - I. CLASSICAL READING. - - II. GRAMMAR. - - III. THE EFFECT UPON THE MEDIAEVAL MAN; HILDEBERT OF LAVARDIN. - - -I - -During all the mediaeval centuries, men approached the Classics expecting -to learn from them. The usual attitude toward the classical heritage was -that of docile pupils looking for instruction. One may recall the -antecedent reasons of this, which have already been stated at length. In -Italy, letters survived as the most impressive legacy from an -overshadowing past. In the north, save where they lingered on from the -antique time, they came in the train of Latin Christianity, and were -offered to men under the same imposing conditions of a higher civilization -authoritatively instructing ruder peoples. Moreover, between the ancient -times which produced the classic literature and the Carolingian period -there intervened centuries of degeneracy and transition, when the Classics -were used pedagogically to teach grammar and rhetoric. Then grammars were -composed or revised, and other handbooks of elementary instruction. The -Classics still were loved; but how shall men love beyond their own -natures? Gifted Jerome, great Augustine, loved them with an ardour -bringing its own misgivings. Other lovers, like Ausonius and Apollinaris -Sidonius, were pedantic imitators. - -Both north and south of the Alps another and obviously enduring cause -fostered the habit of regarding the Classics as storehouses of knowledge: -the fact that they were such for all the mediaeval centuries. They -included not only poetry and eloquence, but also history, philosophy, -natural knowledge, law and polity. The knowledge contained in them -exceeded what the men of western Europe otherwise possessed. As century -after century passed, mediaeval men learned more for themselves, and also -drew more largely on the classic store. Yet it remained unexhausted. The -twelfth and thirteenth centuries constitute the great mediaeval epoch. Men -were then opening their eyes a little to observe the natural world, and -were thinking a little for themselves. Nevertheless the chief increase in -knowledge issued from the gradual discovery and mastering of the works of -Aristotle. These centuries, like their predecessors, make clear that men -who inherit from a greater past a universal literature containing the best -they can conceive and more knowledge than they can otherwise attain, will -be likely to regard every part of this literature as in some way a source -of knowledge, physical or metaphysical, historical or ethical. And the -Classics merited such regard; for where they did not instruct in science, -they imparted knowledge of life, and norms and instances of conduct, from -which men still may draw guidance. We have outlearned the physics, and -perhaps the metaphysics of the Greeks; their knowledge of nature, in -comparison with ours, was but as a genial beginning; their polities and -their formal ethics we have tried and tested; but we have not risen above -the power and inspiration of the story of Greece and Rome, and the -exemplifications of life in the Greek and Latin Classics. It has not -ceased to be true that he who best loves the Classics, and most deeply -feels and glories in their unique excellence as literature, is he who -still draws life from them, and discipline and knowledge. Their true -lovers, like the true lovers of all noble literature, are always in a -state of pupilage to the poems and the histories they love. - -Obviously then no final word lies in the statement that through the Middle -Ages men turned to the Classics for instruction. They did indeed turn to -them for all kinds of knowledge, and for discipline. Often they looked for -instruction from Ovid or Virgil in a way to make us smile. Often they -were like schoolboys, dully conning words which they did not feel and so -did not understand. But in the tenth century, and in the twelfth, some men -admired and loved the Latin Classics, and drew from them, as we may, -lessons which are learned only by those who love aright. - -It would be hard to say what the men of the Middle Ages did not thus gain. -The pagan classical literature was one of humanity in its full range of -interests. This was true of the Greek; and from the Greek, the universal -human passed to the Latin, which the Middle Ages were to know. In both -literatures, man was a denizen of earth. The laws of mortality and fate -were held before his eyes; and the action of the higher powers bore upon -mortal happiness, rather than upon any life to come. When reflecting upon -the use and influence of the Classics through the Middle Ages, it is -always to be kept in mind that the antique literature was the literature -of this life and of this world; that it was universal in its humanity, and -still in the Middle Ages might touch every human love and human interest -not directly connected with the hopes and terrors of the Judgment Day. - -So whenever educated mediaeval men were drawn by the ambitions or moved by -the finer joys of human life, it lay in their path to seek instruction or -satisfaction from some antique source. If a man wished the common -education of a clerk, he drew it from antique text-books and their -commentaries. Grammar and rhetoric meant Latin grammar and Latin rhetoric; -dialectic also was Latin and antique. Likewise the quadrivium of -arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music, could be studied only in -Latin. These ordinary branches of education having been mastered, if then -the man's tastes or ambitions turned to the interests of earth (and who -except the saintly recluse was not so drawn?) he would still look to the -antique. A civilian or an ecclesiastic would need some knowledge of law, -which for the most part was Roman, even when disguised as Canon law.[152] -Did a man incline toward philosophy, and the scrutiny of life's deeper -problems, again the source was the antique; and when he lifted his mind to -theology, he would still find himself reasoning in categories of antique -dialectic. Finally, and this was a broad field of humane inclination, if a -clerkly educated man loved poetry, eloquence, and history, for their own -sakes, he also would turn to the antique. - -There is scarcely need to revert again to the use of the Classics in the -earlier Middle Ages. We have seen that in Italy they never ceased to form -the conscious background to all intellectual life; and that in the north, -letters came a handmaid in the train of Latin Christianity--a handmaid -that was apt to assert her own value, and also charm the minds of men. -From the first, it was the orthodox view that Latin letters should provide -the education enabling men to understand the Christian religion -adequately. This is the object set forth in Charlemagne's Capitularies -upon education.[153] Three hundred years later Honorius of Autun says in -his sermonizing way: - - "Not only, beloved, do the sacred writings lead us to eternal life, - but profane letters also teach us; for edifying matter may be drawn - from them. In view of sacred examples no one should be scandalized at - this. For the children of Israel spoiled the Egyptians; they took gold - and silver, gems and precious vestments, which they afterwards turned - into God's treasury to build the tabernacle."[154] - -Honorius used Augustine's reference to the Egyptians, and followed this -Augustinian view, always recognized as orthodox in the Middle Ages. It was -narrower than the practice among those who followed letters. Gerbert at -the close of the tenth century loved to teach and read the pagan writers, -and drew from them training and discipline.[155] In the next century, the -German monk Froumund of Tegernsee, with Bernward and Godehard, bishops of -Hildesheim, are instances of German love of antique letters.[156] Yet -lofty souls might choose to limit their reading of the Classics, at least -in theory, to the needs of their Latinity. Such a one was Hugo of -St.-Victor, scholar, theologian, man of genius;[157] he professed to care -more for the Christian ardours of the soul than for learning even as a -means of righteousness, and chose to take the side of those who would -read the classic authors only so far as the needs of education demanded: - - "There are two kinds of writings, first those which are termed the - _artes_ proper, secondly, those which are the supplements - (_appendentia_) of the _artes_. _Artes_ comprise the works grouped - under (_supponuntur_) philosophy, those which contain some fixed and - determined matter of philosophy, as grammar, dialectic and the like. - _Appendentia artium_ are those [writings] which touch philosophy less - nearly and are occupied with some subject apart from it; and yet - sometimes offer flotsam and jetsam from the _artes_, or simply as - narratives smooth the road to philosophy. All the songs of poets are - such--tragedies, comedies, satires, heroics, and lyrics too, and - iambics, besides certain didactic works (_didascalica_); tales - likewise, and histories; also the writings of those nowadays called - philosophers, who extend a brief matter with lengthy circumlocution, - and thus darken a simple meaning. - - "Note then well the distinction I have drawn for thee: distinct and - different (_duo_) are the _artes_ and their _appenditia_, ... and - often from the latter the student will gain much labour and little - fruit. The _artes_, without their _appenditia_, may make the reader - perfect; but the latter, without the _artes_, can bring no whit of - perfection. Wherefore one should first of all devote himself to the - _artes_, which are so fundamental, and to the aforesaid seven above - all, which are the means and instruments (_instrumenta_) of all - philosophy. Then let the rest be read, if one has leisure, since - sometimes the playful mingled with the serious especially delights us, - and we are apt to remember a moral found in a tale."[158] - -Temperament affected Hugo's view. He was of the spiritual aristocracy, who -may be somewhat disdainful of the common means by which men get their -education and round out their natures. The mechanical monotony of pedagogy -grated on him and evoked the ironical sketch of a school-room, which he -put in his dialogue on the Vanity of the World. The little Discipulus, -directed by his Magister, is surveying human things. - - "Turn again, and look," says the latter, "and what do you see?" - - "I see the schools of learners. There is a great crowd, and of all - ages, boys and youths, men young and old. They study various things. - Some practise their rude tongue at the alphabet and at words new to - them. Others listen to the inflection of words, their composition and - derivation; then by reciting and repeating them they try to commit - them to memory. Others furrow the waxen tablets with a stylus. Others, - guiding the calamus with learned hand, draw figures of different - shapes and colours on parchments. Still others with sharper zeal seem - to dispute on graver matters and try to trip each other with twistings - and impossibilities (_gryphis_?). I see some also making calculations, - and some producing various sounds upon a cord stretched on a frame. - Others, again, explain and demonstrate geometric figures; and yet - others with various instruments show the positions and courses of the - stars and the movement of the heavens. Others, finally, consider the - nature of plants, the constitution of men, and the properties and - powers of things." - -The Disciple is captivated with this many-coloured show of learning; but -the Master declares it to be mostly foolishness, distracting the student -from understanding his own nature, his Creator, and his future lot.[159] - -These are examples, which might be multiplied indefinitely, of the pious -mediaeval view that the _artes_, with a very little reading of the -_auctores_, were proper for the educated Christian, whose need was to -understand Scripture. Sometimes, stung, at least rhetorically, by fear of -the lust and idolatry of the antique, mediaeval souls cry out against its -lures, even as Jerome's Christianly protesting nature dreamed that famous -dream of exclusion from heaven as a "Ciceronian." Alcuin, who led the -educational movement under Charlemagne, gently chides one whose fondness -for Virgil made him forget his friend--"would that the Gospels rather than -the _Aeneid_ filled thy breast."[160] Three hundred years later, St. Peter -Damiani, himself a virtuoso in letters and a sometime teacher of rhetoric, -arraigns the monks for teaching grammar rather than things spiritual.[161] -Damiani speaks with the harshness of one who fears what he loves. In -France, about the same time, our worthy sermon-writer, Honorius of Autun, -liked the profanities well enough, and drew from them apt moral tales, -which preachers might introduce to rouse drowsy congregations. Yet he -directs his pulpit-thunder at the _cives Babyloniae_, the _superbi_, who -after their several tastes finger profane literature to their peril: -"Those delighting in quibbling learn Aristotle: the lovers of war have -Maro, and the lustful idlers their Naso. Lucan and Statius incite -discords, while Horace and Terence equip the pert and wanton -(_petulantes_)--but since the names of these are blotted from the book of -life, I shall not commemorate them with my lips."[162] - -This with the excellent Honorius was pious rhetoric. Yet the love and fear -of antique letters caused anxiety in many a mediaeval soul, deflected by -them from its narrow path to the heavenly Jerusalem. Indeed the love of -letters and of knowledge was to play its part, and might take one side or -the other, according to the motive of their pursuit, in the great -mediaeval _psychomachia_ between the cravings of mortal life and the -militant insistencies of the soul's salvation. This conflict, not confined -to mediaeval monks, has its universal aspects. It echoes in the sigh of -Michelangelo over the - - "affectuosa fantasia, - Che l' arte si fece idolo e monarca," - ---which had so long drawn his heart from Eternity.[163] - -Commonly, however, this conflict did not greatly disturb scholars who felt -in some degree the classic spell so manifold of delight in themes -delightful, of pleasure somehow drawn from clear statement and convincing -sequence of thought, of even deeper happiness springing from the stirring -of those faculties through which man rejoices in knowledge. To be sure, -readers of the Classics, who drew joy from them or satisfaction, or humane -instruction, were comparatively few in the mediaeval centuries, as they -are to-day. And undoubtedly in the Middle Ages the Classics usually were -read in unenlightened schoolboy fashion. Yet making these reservations, we -may be sure that letters yielded up their joys to the chosen few in every -mediaeval century. "Amor litterarum ab ipso fere initio pueritiae mihi est -innatus," wrote Lupus in the ninth.[164] Gerbert might have said the -same, and many of the men who taught at Chartres in the generations -following. So likewise might have said John of Salisbury. In studying the -Classics he certainly looked to them for instruction. But he also loved -them, and found companionship and solace in them, as he says, and as -Cicero before him had said of letters. - -We may ask ourselves what sort of pleasure do _we_ get from reading the -Classics? not necessarily a light distracting of the mind, but rather a -deeper gratification: thought is aroused and satisfied, and our nature is -appeased by the admirable presentation of things admirable. At the same -time we may be conscious of discipline and benefit. There is good reason -to suppose that a like pleasure, or satisfaction, with discipline and -instruction, came to this exceedingly clever John from reading Terence, -Virgil and Ovid, Horace, Juvenal, Lucan, Persius and Statius, Cicero, -Seneca and Quintilian--for he read them all.[165] John is affected, -impressed, and trained by his classic reading; he has absorbed his -authors; he quotes from them as spontaneously and aptly as he quotes from -Scripture. A quotation from the one or the other may give final point to -an argument, and have its own eloquent suggestions. Sometimes the tone of -one of his own letters--which usually are excellent in form and -language--may agree with that of the pithy antique quotation garnishing -it. A mediaeval writer was not likely to say just what we should when -expressing ourselves on the same matter. Yet John makes quite clear to us -how he cared for antique letters, in the Prologue to his _Polycraticus_, -his chief work on philosophy and life; and we may take his word as to the -satisfaction which he drew from them, since his own writings prove his -assiduity in their cult. This prologue is somewhat _cherché_, and imbued -with a preciosity of sentiment putting one in mind of Cicero's oration -_Pro Archia poeta_. - - "Most delightful in many ways, but in this especially, is the fruit of - letters, that banishing the reserve of intervening place and time, - they bring friends into each other's presence, and do not suffer - noteworthy things to be obliterated by dust. For the arts would have - perished, laws would have vanished, the offices of faith and religion - would have fallen away, and even the correct use of language would - have failed, had not the divine pity, as a remedy for human infirmity, - provided letters for the use of mortals. Ancient examples, which - incite to virtue, would have corrected and served no one, had not the - pious solicitude of writers transmitted them to posterity.... Who - would know the Alexanders and the Caesars, or admire Stoics and - Peripatetics, had not the monuments of writers signalized them? - Triumphal arches promote the glory of illustrious men from the carved - inscription of their deeds. Thereby the observer recognizes the - Liberator of his Country, the Establisher of Peace. The light of fame - endures for no one save through his own or another's writing. How many - and how great kings thinkest thou there have been, of whom there is - neither speech nor cogitation? Vainly have men stormed the heights of - glory, if their fame does not shine in the light of letters. Other - favour or distinction is as fabled Echo, or the plaudits of the Play, - ceasing the moment it has begun. - - "Besides all this, solace in grief, recreation in labour, cheerfulness - in poverty, modesty amid riches and delights, faithfully are bestowed - by letters. For the soul is redeemed from its vices, and even in - adversity refreshed with sweet and wondrous cheer, when the mind is - intended upon reading or writing what is profitable. Thou shalt find - in human life no more pleasing or more useful employment; unless - perchance when, with heart dilated through prayer and divine love, the - mind perceives and arranges within itself, as with the hand of - meditation, the great things of God. Believe one who has tried it, - that all the sweets of the world, compared with these exercises, are - wormwood."[166] - -Hereupon, still addressing himself to his friend and patron, Thomas à -Becket, John suggests that these recreations are peculiarly beneficial to -men in their circumstances, burdened with affairs; and he puts his -principles in practice, by launching forth upon his lengthy work of -learned and philosophic disquisition. - -To supplement this outline of John's appreciation of the Classics, it will -be interesting to look into the literary interpretation of a classical -poem, from the pen of one of his contemporaries. So little is known of the -author, Bernard Silvestris, that he usually has been confused with his -more famous fellow, Bernard of Chartres. We may refer to both of them -again.[167] Here our business is solely with the _Commentum Bernardi -Silvestris super sex libros Aeneidos Virgilii_.[168] The writer draws from -the _Saturnalia_ of the fifth-century grammarian, Macrobius; but his -allegorical interpretation of the _Aeneid_ seems to be his own. He finds -in the _Aeneid_ a twofold consideration, in that its author meant to teach -philosophic truth, and at the same time was not inattentive to the poetic -plot. - - "Since then Virgil in this poem is both philosopher and poet, we shall - first expound the purpose and method of the poet.... His aim is to - unfold the calamities of Aeneas and other Trojans, and the labours of - the exiles. Herein disregarding the truth of history as told by Dares - the Phrygian,[169] and seeking to win the favour of Augustus, he - adorns the facts with figments. For Virgil, greatest of Latin poets, - wrote in imitation of Homer, greatest of Greek poets. As Homer in the - _Iliad_ narrates the fall of Troy and in the _Odyssey_ the exile of - Ulysses; so Virgil in the second Book briefly relates the overthrow of - Troy, and in the rest the labours of Aeneas. Consider the twin order - of narration, the natural and the artistic (_artificialem_). The - natural is when the narrative proceeds according to the sequence of - events, telling first what happened first. Lucan and Statius keep to - this order. The artistic is when we begin in the middle of the story, - and thence revert to the commencement. Terence writes thus, and Virgil - in this work. It would have been the natural order to have described - first the destruction of Troy, and then brought the Trojans to Crete, - from Crete to Sicily, and from Sicily to Libya. But he first brings - them to Dido, and introduces Aeneas relating the overthrow of Troy and - the other things that he has suffered.[170] - - "Up to this point we show how he proceeds: next let us observe why he - does it so. With poets there is the reason of usefulness, as with a - satirist; the reason of pleasure, as with a writer of comedies; and - again these two combined, as with the historical poet. As Horace says: - - 'Aut prodesse volunt aut delectare poetae, - Aut simul et iucunda et idonea dicere vitae.' - - "This kind of a historical poem is shown by its figurative and - polished diction and in the various mischances and deeds narrated. If - any one will study to imitate it he will gain skill in writing. The - narrative also contains instances and arguments for following the - right and avoiding what is evil. Hence a twofold profit to the reader: - skill in writing, gained through imitation, and prudence in conduct, - drawn from example and precept. For instance, in the labours of Aeneas - we have an example of endurance; and one of piety, in his affection - for Anchises and Ascanius. From the reverence which he shows the gods, - from the oracles which he supplicates, from the sacrifices which he - offers, from the vows and prayers which he pours forth, we feel drawn - to religion: while through Dido's unbridled love, we are recalled from - desire for the forbidden." - -The above is excellent, but not particularly original. It shows, however, -that Bernard could appreciate the _Aeneid_ in this way. His allegorical -interpretation is of a piece with current mediaeval methods. Yet to take a -poem allegorically was not distinctively mediaeval; for Homer and other -poets had been thus expounded from the days of Plato, who did not himself -approve. With Bernard, each Book of the _Aeneid_ represents one of the -ages of man, the first Book betokening infancy, the second boyhood, and so -forth. Allegorical etymologies are applied to the names of the personages; -and in general the whole natural course and setting of the poem is taken -allegorically. "The sea is the human body moved and tossed by drunkenness -and lusts, which are represented by waves." Aeneas, to wit, the human soul -joined to its body, comes to Carthage, the mundane city where Dido reigns, -which is lust; this allegory is unfolded in detail. So the interpretation -ambles on, not more and not less jejune than such ingenuities usually are. - - * * * * * - -Classical studies reached their zenith in the twelfth century. For in -every way that century surpassed its predecessors; and in classical -studies it excelled the thirteenth, which devoted to them a smaller -portion of its intellectual energies. The twelfth century, to be sure, was -prodigiously interested in dialectic and theology. Yet these had not quite -engulfed the humanities; nor had any newly awakened interest in physical -or experimental science distracted the eyes of men from the charms of the -ancient written page. The change took place in the thirteenth century. -Its best intellectual efforts, north of the Alps at least, were directed -to the study and theological appropriation of the Aristotelian -encyclopaedia of metaphysics and universal knowledge.[171] The effect of -Aristotle was totally unliterary. And the minds of men, absorbed in -mastering this giant mass of knowledge and argument, ceased to regard -literary form and the humane aspects of Latin literature. - -Until the thirteenth century, dialectic and theology were not completely -severed from _belles lettres_. The Platonic-Augustinian theology of the -twelfth century had been idealizing and imaginative, not to say poetical. -Such an interesting exponent of it as Hugo of St. Victor appears as a -literary personage, despite his stinted advocacy of classical study. One -notes that for his time the chief single source of physical knowledge was -the Latin version of the _Timaeus_, certainly not a prosaic composition. -Thus, for the twelfth century, an effective cause of the continuance of -the study of letters lay herein: whatever branch of natural knowledge -might allure the student, he could not draw it bodily from a serious but -unliterary repository, like the _Physics_ or _De animalibus_ of Aristotle, -which were not yet available; he must follow his bent through the writings -of various Latin poets as well as prose-writers. In fine, the sources of -profane knowledge open to the twelfth century were literary in their -nature, and might form part of the literature which would be read by a -student of grammar or rhetoric. - -One sees this in John of Salisbury. There may have been a few men who knew -more than he did of some particular topic. But his range and readiness of -knowledge were unique. And it is evident from his writings that his -knowledge (except in logic) had no special or scientific source, but was -derived from a promiscuous reading of Latin literature. As a result, he is -himself a literary man. One may say much the same of his younger -contemporary, Alanus de Insulis.[172] He too has gathered knowledge from -literary sources, and he himself is one of the best Latin poets of the -Middle Ages. Another extremely poetic philosopher was Bernard Silvestris, -the interpreter of Virgil. His _De mundi unitate_ is a Pantheistic -exposition of the Universe; it is also a poem; and incidentally it affords -another illustration of the general fact, that before the works of -Aristotle were made known and expounded in the thirteenth century, all -kinds of natural and quasi-philosophic knowledge were drawn from a variety -of writings, some of them poor enough from any point of view, but none of -them distinctly scientific and unliterary, like the works of Aristotle. -Formal logic or dialectic, as cultivated by Abaelard for example, appears -as an exception. It had been specialized and more scientifically treated -than any branch of substantial knowledge; for indeed it was based on the -logical treatises of Aristotle, most of which were in use before -Abaelard's death, and all of which were known to Thierry of Chartres and -John of Salisbury.[173] - -The contrast between the cathedral school of Chartres and the University -of Paris illustrates the change from the twelfth to the thirteenth -century. The former has been spoken of in a previous chapter, where its -story was brought down to the times of its great teachers, Bernard and -Thierry, of whom we shall have to speak in connection with the teaching of -grammar and the reading of classical authors. The school flourished -exceedingly until the middle of the twelfth century.[174] By that time the -schools of Paris had received an enormous impetus from the popularity of -Abaelard, and scholars had begun to push thither from all quarters. But it -was not till the latter part of the century that the University, with its -organization of Masters and Faculties, began visibly to emerge out of the -antecedent cathedral school.[175] Chartres was a home of letters; and -there Latin literature was read enthusiastically. But in Paris Abaelard -was pre-eminently a dialectician; and after he died, through those decades -when the University was coming into existence, the tide of study set -irresistibly toward theology and metaphysics. Students and masters of the -Faculty of Arts outnumbered all the other Faculties; nevertheless, -counting not by tumultuous numbers, but by intellectual strength, the -great matter was Theology, and the majority of the Masters in the Arts -were students in the divine science. The Arts were regarded as a -preparatory discipline. So through its great period, which roughly -coincides with the thirteenth century, the University of Paris was for all -Europe the supreme seat of Dialectic, Metaphysics, and Theology, and yet -no kindly nurse of _belles lettres_. - -The tendencies of Oxford were not quite the same as those of Paris, yet -Latin literature as such does not seem to have been cultivated there for -its own fair sake. This apparently was unaffected by the fact that a -movement for "close" or exact scholarship existed at the English -university. Grosseteste, its first great chancellor, teacher and inspirer, -unquestionably introduced, or encouraged, the study of Greek; and his -famous pupil, Roger Bacon, was a serious Greek scholar, and wrote a -grammar of that tongue. But neither Grosseteste nor Bacon appears to have -been moved by any literary interest in Greek literature; both one and the -other urged the importance of Greek, and of Hebrew too and Arabic, in -order to reach a surer knowledge of Scripture and Aristotle. They sought -to open the veritable founts of theology and natural knowledge, an -intelligent aim indeed, but quite unliterary. In spirit both these men -belong to the thirteenth century, not to the twelfth.[176] - -In Italy, one does not find that the passage from the twelfth to the -thirteenth century displays the decline in classical studies which is -apparent north of the Alps. The reasons seem obvious. The passion for -metaphysical theology did not invade this land of practical -ecclesiasticism and urban living, where pagan antiquity, dumb, broken, and -defaced, yet everywhere surviving, was the medium of life and thought and -temperamental inclination in the thirteenth as well as in the twelfth -century. Nor was Italy as yet becoming scientific, or greatly interested -in physical hypothesis; although medicine was cultivated in various -centres, Salerno, for example, and Bologna. But for the twelfth, and for -the thirteenth century as well, Italy's great intellectual achievement was -in the two closely neighbouring sciences of canon and civil law. These -made the University of Bologna as pre-eminent in law as Paris was in -theology. There had been schools of grammar and rhetoric at Bologna and -Ravenna, before the lecturing of Irnerius on the _Pandects_ drew to the -first-named town the concourse of mature and seemly students who were -gradually to organize themselves into a university.[177] Thus at Bologna -law flourished and grew great, springing upward from an antecedent base of -grammatical if not literary studies. The study of the law never cut itself -away from this foundation. For the exigencies of legal business demanded -training in the scrivener's and notarial arts of inditing epistles and -drawing documents, for which the _ars dictaminis_, to wit, the art of -composition was of primary utility. This _ars_, teaching as it did both -the general rules of composition and the more specific forms of legal or -other formal documents, pertained to law as well as grammar. Of the latter -study it was perhaps in Italy the main element, or, rather, end. But even -without this hybrid link of the _dictamen_, grammar was needed for the -interpretation of the _Pandects_; and indeed some of the glosses of -Irnerius and other early glossators are grammatical rather than legal -explanations of the text. We should bear in mind that this august body of -jurisprudential law existed not in the inflated statutory Latin of -Justinian's time, but in the sonorous and correct language of the earlier -empire, when the great Jurists lived, as well as Quintilian. Accordingly a -close study of the _Pandects_ required, as well as yielded, a knowledge of -classical Latinity. Thus law tended to foster, rather than repress, -grammar and rhetoric; and had no unfavourable effect on classical studies. -And even as such studies "flourished" in Italy in the eleventh and twelfth -centuries, they did not cease to "flourish," there in the thirteenth, in -the same general though rather dull and uncreative way. For it will -hereafter appear that the productions of the Latin poets and rhetoricians -of Italy were below the literary level of those composed north of the -Loire in France, or in England. - - -II - -From the days of the Roman Empire, the study of grammar was, and never -ceased to be, the basis of the conscious and rational knowledge of the -Latin tongue. The Roman boys studied it at Rome; the Latin-speaking -provincials studied it, and all people of education who remained in the -lands of western Europe which once had formed part of the Empire; its -study was renewed under Charlemagne; he and Alcuin and all the scholars of -the ninth century were deeply interested in what to them represented -tangible Latinity, and in fact was to be a chief means by which their -mediaeval civilization should maintain its continuity with its source. For -grammar was most instrumental in preserving mediaeval Latin from violent -deflections, which would have left the ancient literature as the -literature of a forgotten tongue. Had mediaeval Latin failed to keep -itself veritable Latin; had it instead suffered transmutation into local -Romance dialects, the Latin classics, and all that hung from them, might -have become as unknown to the Middle Ages as the Greek, and even have been -lost forever. It was the study of Latin grammar, with classic texts to -illustrate its rules, that kept Latin Latin, and preserved standards of -universal usage throughout western Europe, by which one language was read -and spoken everywhere by educated people. From century to century this -language suffered modification, and varied according to the knowledge and -training of those who used it; yet its changes were never such as to -destroy its identity as a language, or prevent the Latin writer of one age -or country from understanding whatever in any land or century had been -written in that perennial tongue. - -Therefore fortunately, as the Carolingian scholars studied Latin grammar, -so likewise did those of all succeeding mediaeval generations, thereby -holding themselves to at least a homogeneity, though not an unvarying -uniformity, of usage. Evidently, however, the method of grammatical -instruction had to vary with the needs of the learners and the teachers' -skill. The Romans prattled Latin on their mothers' knees; and so, with -gradually widening deflections, did the Latinized provincials. Neither -Roman nor Provincial prattled Ciceronian periods, or used quite the -vocabulary of Virgil; yet it was Latin that they talked. Thenceforward -there was to be a difference between the people who lived in countries -where Romance dialects had emerged from the spoken Latin and prevailed, -and those people who spoke a Teuton speech. Although always drawing away, -the natal speech of Romance peoples was so like Latin, that in learning it -they seemed rather to correct their vulgar tongue than to acquire a new -language. So it was in the Christian parts of Spain, in Gaul, and, above -all, in Italy, where the vulgar dialects were tardiest in taking -distinctive form. Nevertheless, as the Romance dialects, for instance in -the country north of the Loire, developed into the various forms of what -is called Old French, young people at school would have to learn Latin as -a quasi-foreign tongue. Across the Rhine in Germany boys ordinarily had to -learn it at school, as a strange language, just as they must to-day; and -every effort was devoted to this end.[178] It was not likely that the -grammars composed for Roman boys, or at least for boys who spoke Latin -from their infancy, would altogether meet the needs of German, or even -French, youth. Yet only gradually and slowly in the Middle Ages were -grammars put together to make good the insufficiencies of Donatus and -Priscian. - -The former was the teacher of St. Jerome. He composed a short work, in the -form of questions and answers, explaining the eight parts of speech, but -giving no rules of gender, or forms of declension and conjugation, needed -for the instruction of those who, unlike the Roman youth, could not speak -the language. This little book went by the name of the _Ars minor_. The -same grammarian composed a more extensive work, the third book of which -was called the _Barbarismus_, after its opening chapter. It defined the -figures of speech (_figurae_, _locutiones_), and was much used through the -mediaeval period. - -The _Ars minor_ explained in simple fashion the elements of speech. But -the _Institutiones grammaticae_ of Priscian, a contemporary of -Cassiodorus, offered a mine of knowledge. Of its eighteen books the first -sixteen were devoted to the parts of speech and their forms, considered -under the variations of gender, declension, and conjugation. The remaining -two treated of _constructio_ or syntax. As early as the tenth century -Priscian was separated into these two parts, which came to be known as -_Priscianus major_ and _minor_. The Priscian manuscripts, whose name is -legion, usually present the former. Diffuse in language, confused in -arrangement, and overladen perhaps with its thousands of examples, it was -berated for its labyrinthine qualities even in the Middle Ages; yet its -sixteen books remained the chief source of etymological knowledge. -_Priscianus minor_ was less widely used. - -The grammarians of the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries followed -Donatus and Priscian, making extracts from their works, or abridgements, -and now and then introducing examples of deviation from the ancient usage. -The last came usually from the Vulgate text of Scripture, which sometimes -departed from the idioms or even word-forms approved by the old -authorities.[179] The _Ars minor_ of Donatus became enveloped in -commentaries; but Priscian was so formidable that in these early centuries -he was merely _glossed_, that is, annotated in brief marginal fashion. - -It would be tedious to dwell upon mediaeval grammatical studies. But the -tendencies characterizing them in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries may -be indicated briefly. The substance of the _Priscianus major_ was followed -by mediaeval grammarians. That is to say, while admitting certain -novelties,[180] they adhered to its rules and examples relating to the -forms of words, their declension and conjugation. But the _Priscianus -minor_, although used, was departed from. In the first place its treatment -of its subject (syntax) was confused and inadequate. There was, however, a -broader reason for seeking rules elsewhere. Mediaeval Latin, in its -progress as a living or quasi-living language, departed from the classical -norms far more in syntax and composition than in word-forms. The latter -continued much the same as in antiquity. But the popular and so to speak -Romance tendencies of mediaeval Latin brought radical changes of -word-order and style, which worked back necessarily upon the rules of -syntax. These had been but hazily stated by the old writers, and the task -of constructing an adequate Latin syntax remained undone. It was a task of -vital importance for the preservation of the Latin tongue. Word-forms -alone will not preserve the continuity of a language; it is essential that -their use in speech and writing should be kept congruous through -appropriate principles of syntax. Such were intelligently formulated by -mediaeval grammarians. The result was not exactly what it would have been -had the task been carried out in the fourth century: yet it has endured in -spite of the attacks, pseudo-attacks indeed, of the _cinquecento_; and the -mediaeval treatment of Latin syntax is the basis of the modern treatment. -One may add that syntax or _constructio_ was taken broadly as embracing -not only the agreements of number and gender, and the governing[181] of -cases, but also the order of words in a sentence, which had changed so -utterly between the time of Cicero and Thomas Aquinas. - -These general statements find illustration in the famous _Doctrinale_ of -Alexander de Villa-Dei, whose author was born in Normandy in the latter -half of the twelfth century. He studied at Paris, and in course of time -was summoned by the Bishop of Dol to instruct his _nepotes_ in grammar. -While acting as their tutor, he appears to have helped their memory by -setting his rules in rhyme; and the bishop asked him to write a _Summa_ of -grammar in some such fashion. Complying, he composed the _Doctrinale_ in -the year 1199, putting his work into leonine or rhyming hexameter, to make -it easier to memorize. Rarely has a school-book met with such success. It -soon came into use in Paris and elsewhere, and for some three hundred -years was the common manual of grammatical teaching throughout western -Europe. It was then attacked and apparently driven from the field by the -so-called Humanists, who, however, failed to offer anything better in its -place, and plagiarized from the work which they professed to -execrate.[182] - -The etymological portions of the _Doctrinale_ follow the teachings of the -_Priscianus major_; the part devoted to syntax, or _constructio_, shows -traces of the influence of the _Priscianus minor_. But Alexander's -treatment of syntax is more systematic and elaborate than Priscian's; and -he did not hesitate to defer to the Vulgate and other Christian Latin -writings. Thus he made his work conform to contemporary usage, which its -purpose was to set forth. He did the same in the section on Prosody, in -which he says that the ancient metricians distinguished a number of feet -no longer used, and he will confine himself to six--the dactyl, spondee, -trochee, anapaest, iambus, and tribrach.[183] In contradiction to -classical usage he condemns elision;[184] and in his chapter on accent he -throws over the ancient rules: - - "Accentus normas legitur posuisse vetustas; - Non tamen has credo servandas tempore nostro."[185] - -Alexander was not really an innovator. He followed previous grammarians -in condemning elision, and in what he says of quantity and accent. In his -syntax he endeavoured to set forth rules conforming to the best Latin -usage of his time, like other mediaeval grammarians before him. He was -indeed vehement in his advocacy of recent and Christian authors as -standards of writing, and he inveighed against the scholars of Orleans, -who read the Classics, and would have us sacrifice to the gods and observe -the indecent festivals of Faunus and Jove.[186] But others defended the -Orleans school, and perhaps still regarded the Classics as the best -arbiters of grammar and eloquence. There exist thirteenth-century grammars -which follow Priscian more closely than Alexander does.[187] Yet his work -represents the dominant tendencies of his time. - -Twelfth and thirteenth century grammarians recommended to their pupils a -variety of reading, in which mediaeval and early Christian compositions -held as large a place as Virgil and Ovid. The _Doctrinale_ advocates no -work more emphatically than Petrus Riga's _Aurora_, a versified paraphrase -of Scripture. Its author was a chorister in Rheims, and died in 1209.[188] -The works of scholastic philosophers were not cited as frequently as the -compositions of verse-writers; yet mediaeval grammarians were influenced -by the language of philosophy, and drew from its training principles which -they applied to their own science. Grammar could not help becoming -dialectical when the intellectual world was turning to logic and -metaphysics. Commencing in the twelfth century, overmasteringly in the -thirteenth, logic penetrated grammar and compelled an application of its -principles. Often grammarians might better have looked to linguistic usage -than to dialectic; yet if grammar was to become a rational science, it had -to systematize itself through principles of logic, and make use of -dialectic in its endeavour to state a reason for its rules. Those who -applied logic to grammar at least endeavoured to distinguish between the -two, not always fruitfully. But a real difference could not fail to -assert itself inasmuch as logic was in truth of universal application, -while mediaeval grammar never ceased to be the grammar of the Latin -language. Nevertheless its terminology was largely drawn from logic.[189] - -So dialectic brought both good and ill, proving itself helpful in the -regulation of syntax, but banefully affecting grammarians with the -conviction that language was the creature of reason, and must conform to -principles of logic. One likewise notes with curious interest, that, from -their dialectic training apparently, grammarians first found as many -_species_ of grammar as languages,[190] and then forsook this idea for the -view that, in order to be a science, grammar must be universal, or, as -they phrased it, one, and must possess principles not applicable specially -to Greek or Latin, but to _congruous construction in the abstract_; "de -constructione congrua secundum quod abstrahit ab omni lingua speciali," -are the words of the English thirteenth-century philosopher and -grammarian, Robert Kilwardby.[191] A like idea affected Roger Bacon, who -composed a Greek grammar,[192] which appears to have been intended as the -first part of a work upon the grammars of the learned languages other than -Latin. It was adapted to afford a grounding in the elements of Greek: yet -it touches matters in a way showing that the writer had thought deeply on -the affinities of languages and the common principles of grammar. Of this -the following passage is evidence: - - "Therefore, because I wish to treat of the properties of Greek - grammar, it should be known that there are differences in the Greek - language, to be hereafter noted in giving the names of these dialects - (_idiomata_). And I call them _idiomata_ and not _linguas_, because - they are not different languages, but different properties which are - peculiarities (_idiomata_) of the same language.[193] Wishing to set - forth Greek grammar, for the use of the Latins, it is necessary to - compare it with Latin grammar, because I commonly speak Latin myself, - seeing that the crowd does not know Greek; also because grammar is of - one and the same substance in all languages, although varying in its - non-essentials (_accidentaliter_), also because Latin grammar in a - certain special way is derived from Greek, as Priscian says, and other - grammarians."[194] - -The dialecticizing of grammar took place in the north, under influences -radiating from Paris, the chief dialectic centre. These did not deeply -affect grammatical studies in Italy, or in the Midi of France, which in -some respects exhibited like intellectual tendencies. Grammar was -zealously studied in Italy, but it did not there become either speculative -or dialectical. To be sure northern manuals were used, especially the -_Doctrinale_; but the study remained practical, an art rather than a -science, and its chief element, or end, was the _ars dictaminis_ or -_dictandi_. The grammatical treatises of Italians were treatises upon this -art of epistolary composition and the proper ways of drawing documents. -These works were studied also in the North, where the _ars dictaminis_ was -by no means neglected.[195] - -Latin grammar, although over-dialecticized in the North, and in Italy made -very practical, remained of necessity the foundation of classical studies, -and of mediaeval literary effort, in prose and verse. As the basis of -liberal studies, it had no truer home than the cathedral school of -Chartres.[196] Contemporary writers picture the manner in which this study -was there made to perform its most liberal office, under favourable -mediaeval conditions, in the first half of the twelfth century. The time -antedates the _Doctrinale_, and one notes at once that the Chartrian -masters used the ancient grammatical authorities. This is shown by the -_Eptateuchon_ of Thierry, who was headmaster (_scholasticus_) and then -Chancellor there for a number of years between 1120 and 1150. As its name -implies, the work was a manual, or rather an encyclopaedia, of the Seven -Arts. Thierry compiled it from the writings of the "chief doctors on the -arts." He transcribed the _Ars minor_ of Donatus and then portions of his -larger work. Having commended this author for his conciseness and -subtilty, Thierry next copied out the whole of Priscian. As text-books for -the second branch of the Trivium, he gives Cicero's _De inventione -rhetorica libri 2_, _Rhetoricorum ad Herennium libri 4_, _De partitione -oratoria dialogus_, and concludes with the rhetorical writings of -Martianus Capella and J. Severianus.[197] - -So much for the books. Now for the method of teaching as described by John -of Salisbury. He gives the practice of Bernard of Chartres, Thierry's -elder brother, who was scholasticus and Chancellor before him, in the -first quarter of the twelfth century. John has been advocating the study -of grammar as the _fundamentum atque radix_ of those exercises by which -virtue and philosophy are reached; and he is advising a generous reading -of the Classics by the student, and their constant use by the professor, -to illustrate his teaching. - - "This method was followed by Bernard of Chartres, _exundissimus - modernis temporibus fons litterarum in Gallia_. By citations from the - authors he showed what was simple and regular; he brought into relief - the grammatical figures, the rhetorical colours, the artifices of - sophistry, and pointed out how the text in hand bore upon other - studies; not that he sought to teach everything in a single session, - for he kept in mind the capacity of his audience. He inculcated - correctness and propriety of diction, and a fitting use of congruous - figures. Realizing that practise strengthens memory and sharpens - faculty, he urged his pupils to imitate what they had heard, inciting - some by admonitions, others by whipping and penalties. Each pupil - recited the next day something from what he had heard on the - preceding. The evening exercise, called the _declinatio_, was filled - with such an abundance of grammar that any one, of fair intelligence, - by attending it for a year, would have at his fingers' ends the art of - writing and speaking, and would know the meaning of all words in - common use. But since no day and no school ought to be vacant of - religion, Bernard would select for study a subject edifying to faith - and morals. The closing part of this _declinatio_, or rather - philosophical recitation, was stamped with piety: the souls of the - dead were commended, a penitential Psalm was recited, and the Lord's - Prayer. - - "For those boys who had to write exercises in prose or verse, he - selected the poets and orators, and showed how they should be imitated - in the linking of words and the elegant ending of passages. If any one - sewed another's cloth into his garment, he was reproved for the theft, - but usually was not punished. Yet Bernard gently pointed out to - awkward borrowers that whoever imitated the ancients (_majores_) - should himself become worthy of imitation by posterity. He impressed - upon his pupils the virtue of economy, and the values of things and - words: he explained where a meagreness and tenuity of diction was - fitting, and where copiousness or even excess should be allowed, and - the advantage of due measure everywhere. He admonished them to go - through the histories and poems with diligence, and daily to fix - passages in their memory. He advised them, in reading, to avoid the - superfluous, and confine themselves to the works of distinguished - authors. For, he said (quoting from Quintilian) that to follow out - what every contemptible person has said, is irksome and vainglorious, - and destructive of the capacity which should remain free for better - things. To the same effect he cited Augustine, and remarked that the - ancients thought it a virtue in a grammarian to be ignorant of - something. But since in school exercises nothing is more useful than - to practise what should be accomplished by the art, his scholars wrote - daily in prose and verse, and proved themselves in discussions."[198] - -This passage indicates with what generous use of the _auctores_ Bernard -expounded grammar and explained the orators and poets; how he assigned -portions of their works for memorizing, and with what care he corrected -his pupils' prose and metrical compositions, criticizing their knowledge -and their taste. He was a man mindful of his Christian piety toward the -dead and living, but caring greatly for the Classics, and loving study. -"The old man of Chartres (_senex Carnotensis_)," says John of Salisbury, -meaning Bernard, "named wisdom's keys in a few lines, and though I am not -taken with the sweetness of the metre, I approve the sense: - - 'Mens humilis, studium quaerendi, vita quieta, - Scrutinium tacitum, paupertas, terra aliena....'"[199] - -Bernard, Thierry, and other masters and scholars of their school, as the -advocates of classical education, detested the men called by John of -Salisbury _Cornificiani_, who were for shortening the academic course, as -one would say to-day, so that the student might finish it up in two or -three years, and proceed to the business of life. A good many in the -twelfth century adopted this notion, and turned from the pagan classics, -not as impious, but as a waste of time. Some of the good scholars of -Chartres lost heart, among them William of Conches and a certain Richard, -both teachers of John of Salisbury. They had followed Bernard's methods; -"but when the time came that so many men, to the great prejudice of truth, -preferred to seem, rather than be, philosophers and professors of the -arts, engaging to impart the whole of philosophy in less than three years, -or even two, then my masters vanquished by the clamour of the ignorant -crowd, stopped. Since then, less time has been given to grammar. So it has -come about that those who profess to teach all the arts, both liberal and -mechanical, are ignorant of the first of them, without which vainly will -one try to get the rest."[200] - -Upon these people who seemed charlatans, and yet may have represented -tendencies of the coming time, Thierry, Gilbert de la Porrèe,[201] and -John of Salisbury poured their sarcasms. The controversy may have -clarified Bernard's consciousness of the value of classical studies and -deepened his sense of obligation to the ancients, until it drew from him -perhaps the finest of mediaeval utterances touching the matter: "Bernard -of Chartres used to say that we were like dwarfs seated on the shoulders -of giants. If we see more and further than they, it is not due to our own -clear eyes or tall bodies, but because we are raised on high and upborne -by their gigantic bigness."[202] - -Echoes of this same controversy--have they ever quite died away?--are -heard in letters of the scholarly Peter of Blois, who was educated at -Paris in the middle of the twelfth century, became a secretary of Henry -Plantagenet and spent the greater part of his life in England, dying about -the year 1200. He writes to a friend: - - "You greatly commend your nephew, saying that never have you found a - man of subtler vein: because, forsooth, skimming over grammar, and - skipping the reading of the classical authors, he has flown to the - trickeries of the logicians, where not in the books themselves but - from abstracts and note-books, he has learned dialectic. Knowledge of - letters cannot rest on such, and the subtilty you praise may be - pernicious. For Seneca says, nothing is more odious than subtilty when - it is only subtilty. Some people, without the elements of education, - would discuss point and line and superficies, fate, chance and - free-will, physics and matter and the void, the causes of things and - the secrets of nature and the sources of the Nile! Our tender years - used to be spent in rules of grammar, analogies, barbarisms, - solecisms, tropes, with Donatus, Priscian, and Bede, who would not - have devoted pains to these matters had they supposed that a solid - basis of knowledge could be got without them. Quintilian, Caesar, - Cicero, urge youths to study grammar. Why condemn the writings of the - ancients? it is written that _in antiquis est scientia_. You rise from - the darkness of ignorance to the light of science only by their - diligent study. Jerome glories in having read Origen; Horace boasts of - reading Homer over and over. It was much to my profit, when as a - little chap I was studying how to make verses, that, as my master bade - me, I took my matter not from fables but from truthful histories. And - I profited from the letters of Hildebert of Le Mans, with their - elegance of style and sweet urbanity; for as a boy I was made to learn - some of them by heart. Besides other books, well known in the schools, - I gained from keeping company with Trogus Pompeius, Josephus, - Suetonius, Hegesippus, Quintus Curtius, Tacitus and Livy, all of whom - throw into their histories much that makes for moral edification and - the advance of liberal science. And I read other books, which had - nothing to do with history--very many of them. From all of them we - may pluck sweet flowers, and cultivate ourselves from their urbane - suavity of speech."[203] - -In another letter Peter writes to his bishop of Bath, as touching the -accusation of some "hidden detractor," that he, Peter, is but a useless -compiler, who fills letters and sermons with the plunder of the ancients -and Holy Writ: - - "Let him cease, or he will hear what he does not like; for I am full - of cracks, and can hold in nothing, as Terence says. Let him try his - hand at compiling, as he calls it.--But what of it! Though dogs may - bark and pigs may grunt, I shall always pattern on the writings of the - ancients; with them shall be my occupation; nor ever, while I am able, - shall the sun find me idle."[204] - -It is evident how broadly Peter of Blois, or John of Salisbury, or the -Chartrians, were read in the Latin Classics. Peter mentions even Tacitus, -a writer not thought to have been much read in the Middle Ages. We have -been looking at the matter rather in regard to poetry and -eloquence--_belles lettres_. But one may also note the same broad reading -(among the few who read at all) on the part of those who sought for the -ethical wisdom of the ancients. This is apparent (perhaps more apparent -than real) with Abaelard, who is ready with a store of antique ethical -citations.[205] It is also borne witness to by the treatise _Moralis -philosophia de honesto et utili_, placed among the works of Hildebert of -Le Mans,[206] but probably from the pen of William of Conches, grammaticus -post Bernardum Carnotensem opulentissimus, as John of Salisbury calls -him.[207] In some manuscripts it is entitled _Summa moralium -philosophorum_, quite appropriately. One might hardly compare it for -organic inclusiveness with the Christian _Summa_ of Thomas Aquinas; but it -may very well be likened to the more compact Sentences of the Lombard[208] -which were so solidly put together about the same time. The Lombard drew -his Sentences from the writings of the Church Fathers; William's work -consists of moral extracts, mainly from Cicero, Seneca, Sallust, Terence, -Horace, Lucan, and Boëthius. The first part, _De honesto_, reviews -Prudentia, Justitia, Fortitudo, and under these a number of particular -virtues in correspondence with which the extracts are arranged. The _De -utili_ considers the adventitious goods of circumstance and fortune. - -The extracts forming the substance of this work were intelligently -selected and smoothly joined; and the treatise was much used by those who -studied the antique philosophy of life. It was drawn upon, for instance, -by that truculent and well-born Welshman, Giraldus Cambrensis, in his _De -instructione principum_, which the author wrote partly to show how evilly -Henry Plantagenet performed the functions of a king. This irrepressible -claimant of St. David's See had been long a prickly thorn for Henry's -side.[209] But he was a scholar, and quotes from the whole range of the -Latin Classics. - - -III - -When a man is not a mere transcriber, but puts something of himself into -the product of his pen, his work will reflect his personality, and may -disclose the various factors of his spiritual constitution. To discover -from the writings of mediaeval scholars the effect of their classical -studies upon their characters is of greater interest than to trace from -their citations the authors read by them. Such a compilation as the _Summa -moralium_ which has just been noticed, while plainly disclosing the latter -information, tells nothing of the personality of him who strung the -extracts together. Yet he had read writings which could hardly have failed -to influence him. Cicero and Seneca do not leave their reader unchanged, -especially if he be seeking ethical instruction. And there was a work -known to this particular compiler which moved men in the Middle Ages. Deep -must have been the effect of that book so widely read and pondered on and -loved, the _De consolatione_ of Boëthius with its intimate consolings, its -ways of reasoning and looking upon life, its setting of the intellectual -above the physical, its insistence that mind rather than body makes the -man. Imagine it brought home to a vigorous struggling personality--imagine -Alfred reading and translating it, and adding to it from the teachings of -his own experience.[210] The study of such a book might form the turning -of a mediaeval life; at least could not fail to temper the convulsions of -a soul storm-driven amid unreconcilable spiritual conflicts. - -One may look back even to the time of Alfred or Charlemagne and note -suggestions coming from classical reading. For instance, the antique -civilization being essentially urban, words denoting qualities of -disciplined and polished men had sprung from city life, as contrasted with -rustic rudeness. Thus the word _urbanitas_ passed over into mediaeval use -when the quality itself hardly existed outside of the transmitted Latin -literature. For an Anglo-Saxon or a Frank to use and even partly -comprehend its significance meant his introduction to a new idea. Alcuin -writes to Charlemagne that he knows how it rejoices the latter to meet -with zeal for learning and church discipline, and how pleasing to him is -anything which is seasoned with a touch of wit--_urbanitatis sale -conditum_.[211] And again, in more curious phrase, he compliments a -certain worthy upon his metrical exposition of the creed, "wherein I have -found gold-spouting whirlpools (_aurivomos gurgites_) of spiritual -meanings abounding with gems of scholastic wit (_scholasticae -urbanitatis_)."[212] Though doubtless this "scholastic wit" was flat -enough, it was something for these men to get the notion of what was witty -and entertaining through a word so vocalized with city life as -_urbanitas_, a word that we have seen used quite knowingly by the more -sophisticated scholar, Peter of Blois. - -Again, it is matter of common observation that a feeling for nature's -loveliness depends somewhat on the growth of towns. But mediaeval men -constantly had the idea suggested to them by the classic poetry of -city-dwelling poets. Here are some lines by Alcuin or one of his friends, -expressing sentiments which never came to them from the woods with which -they were disagreeably familiar: - - "O mea cella, mihi habitatio, dulcis, amata, - Semper in aeternum, o mea cella, vale. - Undique te cingit ramis resonantibus arbos, - Silvula florigeris semper onusta comis."[213] - -These are little hints of the effect of the antique literature upon men -who still were somewhat rough-hewn. Advancing a century and a half, the -influence of classic study is seen, as it were, "in the round" in -Gerbert.[214] It is likewise clear and full in John of Salisbury, of whom -we have spoken, and shall speak again.[215] For an admirable example, -however, of the subtle working of the antique literature upon character -and temperament, we may look to that scholar-prelate whose letters the -youthful Peter of Blois studied with profit, Hildebert of Lavardin, Bishop -of Le Mans, and Archbishop of Tours. He shows the effect of the antique -not so strikingly in the knowledge which he possessed or the particular -opinions which he entertained, as in the balance and temperance of his -views, and incidentally in his fine facility of scholarship. - -Hildebert was born at Lavardin, a village near the mouth of the Loire, -about the year 1055. He belonged to an unimportant but gentle family. -Dubious tradition has it that one of his teachers was Berengar of Tours, -and that he passed some time in the monastery of Cluny, of whose great -abbot, Hugh, he wrote a life. It is more probable that he studied at Le -Mans. But whatever appears to have been the character of his early -environment, Hildebert belongs essentially to the secular clergy, and -never was a monk. While comparatively young, he was made head of the -cathedral school of Le Mans, and then archdeacon. In the year 1096, the -old bishop of Le Mans died, and Hildebert, then about forty years of age, -was somewhat quickly chosen his successor, by the clergy and people of the -town, in spite of the protests of certain of the canons of the cathedral. -The none too happy scholar-bishop found himself at once a powerless but -not negligible element of a violently complicated feudal situation. There -was the noble Helias, Count of Maine, who was holding his domain against -Robert de Bellesme, the latter slackly supported by William Rufus of -England, who claimed the overlordship of the land. Helias reluctantly -acquiesced in Hildebert's election. Not so Rufus, who never ceased to hate -and persecute the man that had obtained the see which had been in the gift -of his father, William the Conqueror. It happened soon after that Count -Helias was taken prisoner by his opponent, and was delivered over to Rufus -at Rouen. But Fulk of Anjou now thrust himself into this feudal _mêlée_, -appeared at Le Mans, entered, and was acknowledged as its lord. He left a -garrison, and departed before the Red King reached the town. The latter -began its siege, but soon made terms with Fulk, by which Le Mans was to be -given to Rufus, Helias was to be set free, and many other matters were -left quite unsettled. - -Now Rufus entered the town (1098), where Hildebert nervously received him; -Helias, set free by the King, offered to become his feudal retainer; Rufus -would have none of him; so Helias defied the King, and was permitted to go -his way by that strange man, who held his knightly honour sacred, but -otherwise might commit any atrocity prompted by rage or greed. It was well -for Helias that trouble with the French King now drew Rufus to the north. -The next year, 1099, Rufus in England heard that the Count had renewed the -war, and captured Le Mans, except the citadel. He hurried across the -channel, rushed through the land, entered Le Mans, and passed on through -it, chasing Helias. But the war languished, and Rufus returned to Le Mans, -or to what was left of it. Hildebert had cause to tremble. He had met the -King on the latter's hurried arrival from England for the war. Rufus had -spoken him fair. But now, at Le Mans, he was accused before the monarch of -complicity in the revolt. Quickly flared the King's anger against the man -whom he never had ceased to detest. He ordered him to pull down the towers -of his cathedral, which rose threatening and massive over the city's ruins -and the citadel of the King. What could the defenceless bishop do to avert -disgrace and the desolation of his beloved church? Words were left him, -but they did not prove effectual. Rufus commanded him to choose between -immediate compliance and going to England, there to submit himself to the -judgment of the English bishops. He accepted the latter alternative, and -followed the King, leaving his diocese ruined and his people dispersed. In -England, Rufus dangled him along between fear and hope, till at last the -disheartened prelate returned to the Continent, having ambiguously -consented to pull down those towers. But instead, he set to work to repair -the devastation of his diocese. The reiterated mandate of the King was not -long in following him, and this time coupled with an accusation of -treason. Hildebert's state was desperate. His clergy were forbidden to -obey him, his palace was sacked, his own property destroyed. Such were -William's methods of persuasion. Then the King proposed that the bishop -should purge himself by the ordeal of hot iron. Hildebert, the bishop, the -theologian, the scholar, was almost on the verge of taking up the -challenge, when a letter from Yves, the saintly Bishop of Chartres, -dissuaded him. At this moment, with ruin for his portion, and no escape, -an arrow ended the Red King's life in the New Forest. It was the year of -grace 1100. - -Now, what a change! Henry Beauclerc was from the first his friend, as -William Rufus to the last had been his enemy. Hitherto Hildebert has -appeared weakly endeavouring to elude destruction, and perhaps with no -unshaken loyalty in his bosom toward any cause except his dire -necessities. Henceforth, sailing a calmer sea, he repays Henry's favour -with adherence and admiration. He has no support to offer Anselm of -Canterbury, still struggling with the English monarchy over investitures; -nor has he one word of censure for the clever cold-eyed scholar King who -kept his brother, Robert of Normandy, a prisoner for twenty-eight years -till he died. - -Hildebert had still thirty years of life before him; nor were they all to -be untroubled. Shortly after the Red King's death, he made a voyage to -Rome, to obtain the papal benediction. To judge from his poems, he was -deeply impressed with the ruins of the ancient city. Returning he devoted -himself to the affairs of his diocese and to rebuilding the cathedral and -other churches of Le Mans. In 1125, in spite of his unwillingness, for he -was seventy years old, he was enthroned Archbishop of Tours, where he was -to be worried by disputes with Louis le Gros of France over investitures. -But he acquitted himself with vigour, especially through his letters. A -famous one relates to this struggle of his closing years: - - "In adversity it is a comfort to hope for happier times. Long has this - hope flattered me; and as the harvest in the fields cheers the - countryman, the expectation of a fair season has comforted my soul. - But now I no longer hope for the clearing of the cloudy weather, nor - see where the storm-driven ship, on whose deck I sit, may gain the - harbour of rest. - - "Friends are silent; silent are the priests of Jesus Christ. And those - also are silent through whose prayers I thought the king would be - reconciled with me. I thought indeed, but in their silence the king - has added to the pain of my wounds. Yet it was theirs to resist the - injury to the canonical institutes of the Church. Theirs was it, if - the matter had demanded it, to raise a wall before the house of - Israel. Yet with the most serene king there is call for exhortation - rather than threat, for advice rather than command, for instruction - rather than the rod. By these he should have been drawn to agree, by - these reverently taught not to sheath his arrows in an aged priest, - nor make void the canonical laws, nor persecute the ashes of a church - already buried, ashes in which I eat the bread of grief, in which I - drink the cup of mourning, from which to be snatched away and escape - is to pass from death to life. - - "Yet amid these dire straits, anger has never triumphed over me, that - I should raise a hue and cry against the anointed of the Lord, or - wrest peace from him with the strong hand and by the arm of the - Church. Suspect is the peace to which high potentates are brought not - by love, but by force. Easily is it broken, and sometimes the final - state is worse than the first. There is another way by which, Christ - leading, I can better reach it. I will cast my thought upon the Lord, - and He will give me the desire of my heart. The Lord remembered - Joseph, forgotten by Pharaoh's chief butler when prosperity had - returned to him; He remembered David abandoned by his own son. Perhaps - He will remember even me, and bring the tossing ship to rest on the - desired shore. He it is who looks upon the petition of the meek, and - does not spurn their prayers. He it is in whose hand the hearts of - kings are wax. If I shall have found grace in His eyes, I shall easily - obtain the grace of the king or advantageously lose it. For to offend - man for the sake of God is to win God's grace."[216] - -Hildebert was a classical scholar, and in his time unmatched as a writer -of Latin prose and verse. Many of his elegiac poems survive, some of them -so antique in sentiment and so correct in metre as to have been taken for -products of the pagan period. One of the best is an elegy on Rome -obviously inspired by his visit to that city of ruins: - - "Par tibi, Roma, nihil, cum sis prope tota ruina." - -Its closing lines are interesting: - - "Hic superûm formas superi mirantur et ipsi, - Et cupiunt fictis vultibus esse pares. - Non potuit natura deos hoc ore creare - Quo miranda deûm signa creavit homo. - Vultus adest his numinibus, potiusque coluntur - Artificum studio quam deitate sua. - Urbs felix, si vel dominis urbs illa careret, - Vel dominis esset turpe carere fide!" - -Such phrases, such frank admiration for the idols of pagan Rome, are -startling from the pen of a contemporary of St. Bernard. The spell of the -antique lay on Hildebert, as on others of his time. "The gods themselves -marvel at their own images, and desire to equal their sculptured forms. -Nature was unable to make gods with such visages as man has created in -these wondrous images of the gods. There is a look (_vultus_) about these -deities, and they are worshipped for the skill of the sculptor rather than -for their divinity."[217] Hildebert was not only a bishop, he was a -Christian; but the sense and feeling of ancient Rome had entered into him. -Besides the poem just quoted, he wrote another, either in Rome or after -his return, Christian in thought but most antique in sympathy and turn of -phrase. - - "Dum simulacra mihi, dum numina vana placerent, - Militia, populo, moenibus alta fui; - - * * * * * - - ruit alta senatus - Gloria, procumbunt templa, theatra jacent." - -The antique feeling of these lines is hardly balanced by the expressed -sentiment: "plus Caesare Petrus!"[218] And again we hear the echo of the -antique in - - "Nil artes, nil pura fides, nil gloria linguae, - Nil fons ingenii, nil probitas sine re."[219] - -Hildebert has also a poem "On his Exile," perhaps written while in England -with the Red King. Quite in antique style it sings the loss of friends and -fields, gardens and granaries, which the writer possessed while _prospera -fata_ smiled. Then - - "Jurares superos intra mea vota teneri!" - ---a very antique sentiment. But the Christian faith of the despoiled and -exiled bishop reasserts itself as the poem closes.[220] Did Hildebert also -write the still more palpably "antique" elegiacs on Hermaphrodite, and -other questionable subjects?[221] That is hard to say. He may or may not -have been the author of a somewhat scurrilous squib against a woman who -seems to have sent him verses: - - "Femina perfida, femina sordida, digna catenis. - - "O miserabilis, insatiabilis, insatiata, - Desine scribere, desine mittere, carmina blandia, - Carmina turpia, carmina mollia, vix memoranda, - Nec tibi mittere, nec tibi scribere, disposui me. - - "Mens tua vitrea, plumbea, saxea, ferrea, nequam, - Fingere, fallere, prodere, perdere, rem putat aequam."[222] - -With all his classical leanings, the major part of Hildebert was -Christian. His theological writings which survive, his zeal against -certain riotous heretics, and in general his letters, leave no doubt of -this. It is from the Christian point of view that he gives his sincerest -counsels; it is from that that he balances the advantages of an active or -contemplative life, the claims of the Christian _vita activa_ and _vita -contemplativa_. Yet his classic tastes gave temperance to his Christian -views, and often drew him to sheer scholarly pleasures and to an antique -consideration of the incidents of life. - -How sweetly the elements were mixed in him appears in a famous letter -written to William of Champeaux, that Goliath of realism whom Abaelard -discomfited in the Paris schools. The unhappy William retreated a little -way across the Seine, and laid the foundations of the abbey of St. Victor -in the years between 1108 and 1113. He sought to abandon his studies and -his lectures, and surrender himself to the austere salvation of his soul, -and yet scarcely with such irrevocable purpose as would rebuff the -temperate advice of Hildebert's letter proffered with tactful -understanding. - - "Over thy change of life my soul is glad and exults, that at length it - has come to thee to determine to philosophize. For thou hadst not the - true odour of a philosopher so long as thou didst not cull beauty of - conduct from thy philosophic knowledge. Now, as honey from the - honeycomb, thou hast drawn from that a worthy rule of living. This is - to gather all of thee within virtue's boundaries, no longer - huckstering with nature for thy life, but attending less to what the - flesh is able for, than to what the spirit wills. This is truly to - philosophize; to live thus is already to enter the fellowship of those - above. Easily shalt thou come to them if thou dost advance - disburdened. The mind is a burden to itself until it ceases to hope - and fear. Because Diogenes looked for no favour, he feared the power - of no one. What the cynic infidel abhorred, the Christian doctor far - more amply must abhor, since his profession is so much more fruitful - through faith. For such are stumbling-blocks of conduct, impeding - those who move toward virtue. - - "But the report comes that you have been persuaded to abstain from - lecturing. Hear me as to this. It is virtue to furnish the material of - virtue. Thy new way of life calls for no partial sacrifice, but a - holocaust. Offer thyself altogether to the Lord, since so He - sacrificed Himself for thee. Gold shines more when scattered than when - locked up. Knowledge also when distributed takes increase, and unless - given forth, scorning the miserly possessor, it slips away. Therefore - do not close the streams of thy learning."[223] - -Eventually William followed this, or other like advice. One sees -Hildebert's sympathetic point of view; he entirely approves of William's -renunciation of the world--a good bishop of the twelfth century might also -have wished to renounce its troublous honours! Yes, William has at last -turned to the true and most disburdened way of living. But this -abandonment of worldly ends entails no abandonment of Christian knowledge -or surrender of the cause of Christian learning. Nay, let William resume, -and herein give himself to God's will without reserve. - -So the letter presents a temperate and noble view of the matter, a view as -sound in the twentieth century as in the twelfth. And a like broad -consideration Hildebert brings to a more particular discussion of the two -modes of Christian living, the _vita activa_ and the _vita contemplativa_, -Leah and Rachel, Martha and Mary. He amply distinguishes these two ways of -serving God from any mode of life with selfish aims. It happened that a -devout monk and friend of Hildebert was made abbot of the monastery of St. -Vincent, in the neighbourhood of Le Mans. The administrative duties of an -abbot might be as pressing as a bishop's, and this good man deplored his -withdrawal from a life of more complete contemplation. So Hildebert wrote -him a long discursive letter, of which our extracts will give the thread -of argument: - - "You bewail the peace of contemplation which is snatched away, and the - imposed burden of active responsibilities. You were sitting with Mary - at the feet of the Lord Jesus, when lo, you were ordered to serve with - Martha. You confess that those dishes which Mary receives, sitting and - listening, are more savoury than those which zealous Martha prepares. - In these, indeed, is the bread of men, in those the bread of angels." - -And Hildebert descants upon the raptures of the _vita contemplativa_, of -which his friend is now bereft. - - "The contemplative and the active life, my dearest brother, you - sometimes find in the same person, and sometimes apart. As the - examples of Scripture show us. Jacob was joined to both Leah and - Rachel; Christ teaches in the fields, anon He prays on the mountains; - Moses is in the tents of the people, and again speaks with God upon - the heights. So Peter, so Paul. Again, action alone is found, as in - Leah and Martha, while contemplation gleams in Mary and Rachel. - Martha, as I think, represents the clergy of our time, with whom the - press of business closes the shrine of contemplation, and dries up the - sacrifice of tears. - - "No one can speak with the Lord while he has to prattle with the whole - world. Such a prattler am I, and such a priest, who when I spend the - livelong day caring for the herds, have not a moment for the care of - souls. Affairs, the enemies of my spirit, come upon me; they claim me - for their own, they thieve the private hour of prayer, they defraud - the services of the sanctuary, they irritate me with their stings by - day and infest my sleep; and what I can scarcely speak of without - tears, the creeping furtive memory of disputes follows me miserable to - the altar's sacraments,--all such are even as the vultures which - Abraham drove away from the carcases (Gen. xv. 11). - - "Nay more, what untold loss of virtue is entailed by these occupations - of the captive mind! While under their power we do not even serve with - Martha. She ministered, but to Christ; she bustled about, but for - Christ. We truly, who like Martha bustle about, and, like Martha, - minister, neither bustle about for Christ nor minister to Him. For if - in such bustling ministry thou seekest to win thine own desire, art - taken with the gossip of the mob, or with pandering to carnal - pleasures, thou art neither the Martha whom thou dost counterfeit nor - the Mary for whom thou dost sigh. - - "In that case, dearest brother, you would have just cause for grief - and tears. But if you do the part of Martha simply, you do well; if, - like Jacob, you hasten to and fro between Leah and Rachel, you do - better; if with Mary you sit and listen, you do best. For action is - good, whose pressing instancy, though it kill contemplation, draws - back the brother wandering from Christ. Yet it is better, sometimes - seated, to lay aside administrative cares, and amid the irksome nights - of Leah, draw fresh life from Rachel's loved embrace. From this - intermixture the course to the celestials becomes more inclusive, for - thereby the same soul now strives for the blessedness of men and anon - participates in that of the angels. But of the zeal single for Mary, - why should I speak? Is not the Saviour's word enough, 'Mary hath - chosen the best part, which shall not be taken from her.'" - -And in closing, Hildebert shows his friend the abbot that for him the true -course is to follow Jacob interchanging Leah and Rachel; and then in the -watches of his pastoral duties the celestial vision shall be also -his.[224] - -Could any one adjust more fairly this contest, so insistent throughout the -annals of mediaeval piety, between active duties and heavenly -contemplation? The only solution for abbot and bishop was to join Leah -with Rachel. And how clearly Hildebert sees the pervasive peril of the -active life, that the prelate be drawn to serve his pleasures and not -Christ. Many souls of prelates had that cast into hell! - -In theory Hildebert is clear as day, and altogether Christian, so far as -we have followed the counsels of these letters. But in fact the quiet life -had for him a temptation, to which he yielded himself more generously than -to any of the grosser lures of his high prelacy. This temptation, so -alluring and insidious, so fairly masked under the proffer of learning -leading to fuller Christian knowledge, was of course the all too beloved -pagan literature, and the all too humanly convincing plausibilities of -pagan philosophy. Hildebert's writings evince that kind of classical -scholarship which springs only from great study and great love. His soul -does not appear to have been riven by a consciousness of sin in this -behoof. Sometimes he passes so gently from Christian to pagan ethics, as -to lead one to suspect that he did not deeply feel the inconsistency -between them. Or again, he seems satisfied with the moral reasonings of -paganism, and sets them forth without a qualm. For there was the antique -pagan side of our good bishop; and how pagan thoughts and views of life -had become a part of Hildebert's nature, appears in a most interesting -letter written to King Henry, consoling him upon the loss of his son and -the noble company so gaily sailing from Normandy in that ill-starred -_White Ship_ in the year 1120. - -Hildebert begins reminding the King how much more it is for a monarch to -rule himself than others. Hitherto he has triumphed over fortune, if -fortune be anything; now she has wounded him with her sharpest dart. Yet -that cannot penetrate the well-guarded mind. It is wisdom not to vaunt -oneself in prosperity, nor be overwhelmed with grief in adversity. -Hildebert then reasons on the excellence of man's nature and will; he -speaks of the effect of Adam's sin in loss of grace and entailment of -misery on the human race. He quotes from the Old Testament and from -Virgil. Then he proceeds more specifically with his fortifying arguments. -Their sum is, let the breast of man abound in weapons of defence and -contemn the thrusts of fortune; there is nothing over which the triumphant -soul may not triumph. - - "Unhappy he who lacks this armament; and most unhappy he who besides - does not know it. Here Democritus found matter for laughter, - Demosthenes (_sic_) matter for tears. Far be it from thee that the - chance cast of things should affect thee so, and the loss of wisdom - follow the loss of offspring. Thou hast suffered on dry land more - grievous shipwreck than thy son in the brine, if fortune's storm has - wrested wisdom from the wise." - -After a while Hildebert passes on to consider what is man, and wherein -consists his welfare: - - "To any one carefully considering what man is, nothing will seem more - probable than that he is a divine animal, distinguished by a certain - share of divinity (_numinis_). By bone and flesh he smacks of the - earth. By reason his affinity to God is shown. Moses, inspired, - certifies that by this prerogative man was created in the image of - God. Whence it also follows for man, that he should through reason - recognize and love his true good. Now reason teaches that what - pertains to virtue is the true good, and that it is within us. The - things we temporally possess are good only by opinion (_opinione_, - _i.e._ not _ratione_), and these are about us. What is about us is not - within our _jus_ but another's (_alterius juris sunt_). Chance directs - them; they neither come nor stand under our arbitrament. For us they - are at the lender's will (_precaria_), like a slave belonging to - another.[225] Through such, true felicity is neither had nor lost. - Indeed no one is happy, no one is wretched by reason of what is - another's. It is his own that makes a man's good or ill, and whatever - is not within him is not his own." - -Then Hildebert speaks of dignities, of wife and child, of the fruits of -the earth and riches--_bona vaga_, _bona sunt pennata haec omnia_. Men -quarrel and struggle about all these things--_ecce vides quanta mundus -laboret insania_.[226] - -No one need point out how much more natural this reasoning would have been -from the lips of Seneca than from those of an archiepiscopal contemporary -of St. Bernard. One may, however, comment on the patent fact that this -reflection of the antique in Hildebert's ethical consolation reflects a -manner of reasoning rather than an emotional mood, and in this it is an -instance of the general fact that mediaeval methods of reasoning -consciously or unconsciously followed the antique; while the emotion, the -love and yearning, of mediaeval religion was more largely the gift of -Christianity. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -EVOLUTION OF MEDIAEVAL LATIN PROSE - - -Classical antiquity lay far back of the mediaeval period, while in the -nearer background pressed the centuries of transition, the time of the -Church Fathers. The patristic material and a crude knowledge of the -antique passed over to the early Middle Ages. Mediaeval progress was to -consist, very largely, in the mastery and appropriation of the one and the -other. - -The varied illustration of these propositions has filled a large portion -of this work. In this and the next chapter we are concerned with -literature, properly speaking; and with the effect of the Classics, the -pure literary antique, upon mediaeval literary productions. The latter are -to be viewed as literature; not considering their substance, but their -form, their composition, style, and temperamental shading, qualities which -show the faculties and temper of their authors. We are to discover, if we -can, wherein the qualities of mediaeval literature reflect the Latin -Classics, or in any way betray their influence. - -It is an affair of dull diligence to learn what Classics were read by the -various mediaeval writers; and likewise is it a dull affair to note in -mediaeval writings the direct borrowing from the Classics of fact, -opinion, sentiment, or phrase. Such borrowing was incessant, resorted to -as of course wherever opportunity offered and the knowledge was at hand. -It would not commonly occur to a mediaeval writer to state in his own way -what he could take from an ancient author, save in so far as change of -medium--from prose to verse, or from Latin to the vernacular--compelled -him. So the church builders in Rome never thought of hewing new blocks of -stone, or making new columns, when some ancient palace or temple afforded -a quarry. The details of such spoliations offer little interest in -comparison with the effect of antique architecture upon later styles. So -we should like to discover the effect of the ancient compositions upon the -mediaeval, and observe how far the faculties and mental processes of -classic authors, incorporate in their writings, were transmitted to -mediaeval men, to become incorporate in theirs. - -Unless you are Virgil or Cicero, you cannot write like Virgil or Cicero. -Writing, real writing, that is to say, creative self-expressive -composition, is the personal product and closely mirrored reflex of the -writer's temperament and mentality. It gives forth indirectly the -influences which have blended in him, education and environment, his past -and present. His personality makes his style, his untransmittable style. -Yet a group of men affected by the same past, and living at the same time -and place, or under like spiritual influences, may show a like faculty and -taste. Having more in common with one another than with men of other time, -their mental processes, and therefore their ways of writing, will present -more common qualities. Around and above them, as well as through their -natal and acquired faculties, sweeps the genius of the language, itself -the age-long product of a like-minded race. In harmony with it, not in -opposition and repugnancy, each writer must, if he will write that -language, shape his more personal diction. - -Obviously the personal elements in classic writings were no more capable -of transmission than the personal qualities of the writers. Likewise, the -genius of the Latin language, though one might think it fixed in approved -compositions, changed with the spiritual fortune of the Roman people, and -constantly transmitted an altered self and novel tenets of construction to -control the linguistic usages of succeeding men. None but himself could -have written Cicero's letters. No man of Juvenal's time could have written -the _Aeneid_, nor any man of the time of Diocletian the histories of -Tacitus. There were, however, common elements in these compositions, all -of them possessing certain qualities which are associated with classical -writing. These may be difficult to formulate, but they become clear enough -in contrast with the qualities of mediaeval Latin literature. The -mediaeval man did not feel and reason like a contemporary of Virgil or -Cicero; he had not the same training in _Greek_ literature; he did not -have the same definitude of conception, did not care so much that a -composition should have limit and the unity springing from adherence to a -single topic; he did not, in fine, stand on the same level of attainment -and faculty and taste with men of the Augustan time. He had his own -heights and depths, his own temperament and predilections, his own -capacities. Reading the Classics had not transformed him into Cicero or -Seneca, or set his feet in the Roman Forum. His feet wandered in the ways -of the Middle Ages, and whatever he wrote in prose or verse, in Latin or -in his own vernacular, was himself and of himself, and but indirectly due -to the antecedent influences which had been transmuted even in entering -his nature and becoming part of his temper and faculty. - -Any consideration of the knowledge and appreciation of the Classics in the -Middle Ages would be followed naturally by a consideration of their effect -upon mediaeval composition; which in turn forms part of any discussion of -the literary qualities of mediaeval Latin literature. But inasmuch as -mediaeval form and diction tend to remove further and further from -classical standards, the whole discussion may seem a _lucus a non lucendo_ -for all the light it throws upon the effect of the Classics on mediaeval -literature. Our best plan will be to note the beginnings of mediaeval -Latinity in that post-Augustan and largely patristic diction which had -been enriched and reinvigorated with many phrases from daily speech; and -then to follow the living if sluggish river as it moves on, receiving -increment along its course, its currents mottled with the silt of -mediaeval Italy, France, Germany. We shall suppose this flood to divide in -rivers of Latin prose and verse; and we may follow them, and see where -they overflow their channels, carrying antique flotsam into the ample -marshes of vernacular poetry. - -There has always been a difference in diction between speech and -literature. At Rome, Cicero and Caesar, and of course the poets, did not, -in writing, use quite the language of the people. All the words of daily -speech were not taken into the literary or classical vocabulary, which had -often quite other words of its own. Moreover the writers, in forming their -prose and verse and constructing their compositions, were affected deeply -by their study of Greek literature.[227] If Caesar, Cicero, Virgil, and -their friends spoke differently from the Roman shopkeepers, there was a -still greater difference between their writings and the parlance of the -town. - -No one need be told that it was the spoken, and not the classical Latin, -which in Italy, Spain, Provence, and Northern France developed into -Italian, Spanish, Provençal, and French. On the other hand, the descent of -written mediaeval Latin from the classical diction or the popular speech, -or both, is not so clear, or at least not so simple. It cannot be said -that mediaeval Latin came straight from the classical; and manifestly it -cannot have sprung from the popular spoken Latin, like the Romance -tongues, without other influence or admixture; because then, instead of -remaining Latin, it would have become Romance; which it did not. Evidently -mediaeval Latin, the literary and to some extent the spoken medium of -educated men in the Middle Ages, must have carried classic strains, or -have kept itself Latin by the study of Latin grammar and a conscious -adherence to a veritable, if not classical, Latin diction. The mediaeval -reading of the Classics, and the earnest and constant study of Latin -grammar spoken of in the previous chapter, were the chief means by which -mediaeval Latin maintained its Latinity. Nevertheless, while it kept the -word forms and inflections of classical Latin, with most of the classical -vocabulary, it also took up an indefinite supplement of words from the -spoken Latin of the late imperial or patristic period. - -In order to understand the genesis and qualities of mediaeval Latin, one -must bear in mind (as with most things mediaeval) that its immediate -antecedents lie in the transitional fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries, -and not in the classical period.[228] Those centuries went far toward -declassicizing Latin prose, by departing from the balanced structure of -the classic sentences and introducing words from the spoken tongue. The -style became less correct, freer, and better suited to the expression of -the novel thoughts and interests coming with Christianity. The change is -seen in the works of the men to whom it was largely due, Tertullian, -Jerome, and other great patristic writers.[229] Such men knew the Classics -well, and regarded them as literary models, and yet wrote differently. For -a new spirit was upon them and new necessities of expression, and they -lived when, even outside of Christian circles, the classic forms of style -were loosening with the falling away of the strenuous intellectual temper, -the poise, the self-reliance and the self-control distinguishing the -classical epoch. - -The stylistic genius of Augustine and Jerome was not the genius of the -formative beginnings of the Romance tongues, with, for instance, its -inability to rely on the close logic of the case ending, and its need to -help the meaning by the more explicit preposition. Yet the spirit of these -two great men was turning that way. They were not classic writers, but -students of the Classics, who assisted their own genius by the study of -what no longer was themselves. So in the following centuries the most -careful Latin writers are students of the Classics, and do not study -Jerome and Augustine for style. Yet their writings carry out the -tendencies beginning (or rather not beginning) with these two. - -It was not in diction alone that the Fathers were the forerunners of -mediaeval writers. _Classic_ Latin authors, both from themselves and -through their study of Greek literature, had the sense and faculty of -form. Their works maintain a clear sequence of thought, along with strict -pertinency to the main topic, or adherence to the central current of the -narrative, avoiding digression and refraining from excessive -amplification. The classic writer did not lose himself in his subject, or -wander with it wherever it might lead him. But in patristic writings the -subject is apt to dominate the man, draw him after its own necessities, or -by its casual suggestions cause him to digress. The Fathers in their -polemic or expository works became prolix and circumstantial, intent, like -a lawyer with a brief, on proving every point and leaving no loophole to -the adversary. In their works literary unity and strict sequence of -argument may be cast to the winds. Above all, as it seems to us, and as it -would have seemed to Caesar or Cicero or Tacitus, allegorical -interpretation carries them at its own errant and fantastic will into -footless mazes. - -Yet whoever will understand and appreciate the writings of the Fathers and -of the mediaeval generations after them, should beware of inelastic -notions. The question of unity hangs on what the writer deems the -veritable topic of his work, and that may be the universal course of the -providence of God, which was the subject of Augustine's _Civitas Dei_. -Indeed, the infinite relationship of any Christian topic was like enough -to break through academic limits of literary unity. Likewise, the proper -sequence of thought depends on what constitutes the true connection -between one matter and another; it must follow what with the writer are -the veritable relationships of his topics. If the visible facts of a man's -environment and the narratives of history are to him primarily neither -actual facts nor literal narratives, but symbols and allegories of -spiritual things, then the true sequence of thought for him is from symbol -to symbol and from allegory to allegory. He is justified in ignoring the -apparent connection of visible facts and the logic of the literal story, -and in surrendering himself to that sequence of thought which follows what -is for him the veritable significance of the matter. - -Yet here we must apply another standard besides that of the writer's -conception of his subject's significance. He should be wise, and not -foolish. Other men and later ages will judge him according to their own -best wisdom. And with respect to the writings of the Fathers viewed as -literature, the modern critic cannot fail to see them entering upon that -course of prolixity which in mediaeval writings will develop into the -endless; looking forward, he will see their errant habits resolving into -the mediaeval lack of determined topic, and their symbolically driven -sequences of thought turning into the most ridiculous topical transitions, -as the less cogent faculties of later men permit themselves to be -_suggested_ anywhither. - -The Fathers developed their distinguishing qualities of style and language -under the demands of the topics absorbing them, and the influence of modes -of feeling coming with Christianity. They were compelling an established -language to express novel matter. In the centuries after them, further -changes were to come through the linguistic tendencies moulding the -evolution of the Romance tongues, through the counter influence of the -study of grammar and rhetoric, and also through the ignorance and -intellectual limitations of the writers. But as with the Latin of the -Fathers, so with the Latin of the Middle Ages, the change of style and -language was intimately and spiritually dependent upon the minds and -temperaments of the writers and the qualities of the subjects for which -they were seeking an expression. A profound influence in the evolution of -mediaeval Latin was the continual endeavour of the mediaeval genius to -express the thoughts and feelings through which it was becoming itself. -With impressive adequacy and power the Christian writers of the Middle -Ages moulded their inherited and acquired Latin tongue to utter the varied -matters which moved their minds and lifted up their hearts. We marvel to -see a language which once had told the stately tale of Rome here lowered -to fantastic incident and dull stupidity, then with almost gospel -simplicity telling the moving story of some saintly life; again sonorously -uttering thoughts to lift men from the earth and denunciations crushing -them to hell; quivering with hope and fear and love, and chanting the last -verities of the human soul. - -As to the evolution of various styles of written Latin from the close of -the patristic period on through the following centuries, one may premise -the remark that there would commonly be two opposite influences upon the -writer; that of the genius of his native tongue, and that of his education -in Latinity. If he lived in a land where Teutonic speech had never given -way to the spoken Latin of the Empire, his native tongue would be so -different from the Latin which he learned at school, that while it might -impede, it could hardly draw to its own genius the learned language. But -in Romance countries there was no such absolute difference between the -vernacular and the Latin, and the analytic genius of the growing Romance -dialects did not fail to affect the latter. Accordingly in France, for -example, the spoken Latin dialect, or one may say the genius that was -forming the old French dialects to what they were to be, tends to break up -the ancient periods, to introduce the auxiliary verb in the place of -elaborate inflections, and rely on prepositions instead of case endings, -which were disappearing and whose force was ceasing to be felt. One result -was to simplify the order of words in a sentence; for it was not possible -to move a noun with its accompanying preposition wherever it had been -feasible to place a noun whose relation to the rest of the sentence was -felt from its case ending. Gregory of Tours is the famous example of these -tendencies, with his _Historia francorum_, an ideal forerunner of -Froissart. He became Bishop of Tours in the year 573. In his writings he -followed the instincts of the inchoate Romance tongues. He acknowledges -and perhaps overstates his ignorance of Latin grammar and the rules of -composition. Such ignorance was destined to become still blanker; and -ignorance in itself was a disintegrating influence upon written Latin, and -also gave freer play to the gathering tendencies of Romance speech. - -Evidently, had all these influences worked unchecked, they would have -obliterated Latinity from mediaeval Latin. Grammatical and rhetorical -education countered them effectively, and the mighty genius of the ancient -language endured in the extant masterpieces. Nevertheless the spirit of -classical Latinity was never again to be a spontaneous creative power. -The most that men thenceforth could do was to study, and endeavour to -imitate, the forms in which it had embodied its living self. - -In brief, some of the chief influences upon the writing of Latin in the -Middle Ages were: the classical genius dead, leaving only its works for -imitation; the school education in Latin grammar and rhetoric; endeavour -to follow classic models and write correctly; inability to do so from lack -of capacity and knowledge; conscious disregard of classicism; the spirit -of the Teutonic tongues clogging Latinity, and that of the Romance tongues -deflecting it from classical constructions; and finally, the plastic -faculties of advancing Christian mediaeval civilization educing power from -confusion, and creating modes of language suited to express the thoughts -and feelings of mediaeval men. - -The life, that is to say the living development, of mediaeval Latin prose, -was to lie in the capacity of successive generations of educated men to -maintain a sufficient grammatical correctness, while at the same time -writing Latin, not classically, but in accordance with the necessities and -spirit of their times. There resulted an enormous literature which was not -dead, nor altogether living, and lacked throughout the spontaneity of -writings in a mother tongue; for Latin was not the speech of hearth and -home, nor everywhere the tongue of the market-place and camp. But it was -the language of mediaeval education and acquired culture; it was the -language also of the universal church, and, above all other tongues, -expressed the thoughts by which men were saved or damned. More profoundly -than any vernacular mediaeval literature, the Latin literature of the -Middle Ages expresses the mediaeval mind. It thundered with the authority -that held the keys of heaven; it was resonant with feeling, and through -long centuries gave voice to emotions, shattering, terror-stricken, -convulsively loving. When, say with the close of the eleventh century, the -mediaeval peoples had absorbed with power the teachings of patristic -Christianity, and had undergone some centuries of Latin schooling, and -when under these two chief influences certain distinctive and homogeneous -ways of thinking, feeling, and looking upon life, had been reached; when, -in fine, the Middle Ages had become themselves and had evolved a genius -that could create,--then and from that time appears the adaptability and -power of mediaeval Latin to serve the ends of intellectual effort and the -expression of emotion. - -To estimate the literary qualities of classical Latin is a simpler task -than to judge the Latinity and style of the Latin literature of the Middle -Ages. Classic Latin prose has a common likeness. In general one feels that -what Cicero and Caesar would have rejected, Tacitus and Quintilian would -not have admitted. The syntax of these writers shows still greater -uniformity. No such common likeness, or avoidance of stylistic aberration -and grammatical solecism, obtains in mediaeval prose or verse. The one and -the other include many kinds of Latin, and vary from century to century, -diversified in idiom and deflected from linguistic uniformity by -influences of race and native speech, of ignorance and knowledge. He who -would appreciate mediaeval Latin will be diffident of academic standards, -and mistrust his classical predilections lest he see aberration and -barbarism where he might discover the evolution of new constructions and -novel styles; lest he bestow encomium upon clever imitations of classical -models, and withhold it from more living creations of the mediaeval -spirit. He will realize that to appreciate mediaeval Latin literature, he -must shelve his Virgil and his Cicero.[230] - -The following pages do not offer themselves even as a slight sketch of -mediaeval Latin literature. Their purpose is to indicate the stages of -development of the prose and the phases of evolution of the verse; and to -illustrate the way in which antique themes and antique knowledge passed -into vernacular poetry. Classical standards will supply us less with a -point of view than with a point of departure. Nothing more need be said -of the Latin of the Church Fathers and Gregory of Tours. But one must -refer to the Carolingian period, in order to appreciate the Latin styles -of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. - -The revival of education and classical scholarship under the strong rule -and fostering care of the greatest of mediaeval monarchs has not always -been rightly judged. The vision of that prodigious personality ruling, -christianizing, striving to civilize masses of barbarians and barbarized -descendants of Romans and provincials; at the same time with eager -interest endeavouring to revive the culture of the past, and press it into -the service of the Christian faith; the striking success of his -endeavours, men of learning coming from Ireland, England, Spain, and -Italy, creating a peripatetic centre of knowledge at the imperial court, -and establishing schools in many a monastery and episcopal residence--all -this has never failed to arouse enthusiasm for the great achievement, and -has veiled the creative deadness of it all, a deadness which in some -provinces of intellectual endeavour was quite veritably moribund, while in -others it betokened the necessary preparation for creative epochs to -come.[231] - -Carolingian scholarship was directed to the mastery of Latin. Grammar was -taught, and the rules of composition. Then the scholars were bidden, or -bade themselves, do likewise. So they wrote verse or prose according to -their school lessons. They might write correctly; but they had no style of -their own. This was hopelessly true as to their metrical verses;[232] it -was only somewhat less tangibly true of their prose. The "classic" of the -period, in the eyes of modern classical scholars and also in the opinion -of the mediaeval centuries, is Einhard's _Life of Charlemagne_. Numberless -encomiums have been passed on it, and justly too. It was an excellent -imitation of Suetonius's _Life of Augustus_; and the writer had made a -careful study of Caesar and Livy.[233] There is no need to quote from a -writing so accessible and well known. Yet one remark may be added to what -others have said: if Einhard's composition was an excellent copy of -classical Latin it was nothing else; it has no stylistic -individuality.[234] - -Turning from this famous biography, we will illustrate our point by -quoting from the letters of him who stands as the type of the Carolingian -revival, the Anglo-Saxon Alcuin. All praise to this noble educational -coadjutor of Charlemagne; his learning was conscientious; his work was -important, his character was lovable. His affectionate nature speaks in a -letter to his former brethren at York, where his home had been before he -entered Charlemagne's service. Here is a sentence: - - "O omnium dilectissimi patres et fratres, memores mei estote; ego - vester ero, sive in vita, sive in morte. Et forte miserebitur mei - Deus, ut cujus infantiam aluistis, ejus senectutem sepeliatis."[235] - -It were invidious to find fault with this Latin, in which the homesick man -expresses his hope of sepulture in his old home. Note also the balance of -the following, written to a sick friend: - - "Gratias agamus Deo Jesu, vulneranti et medenti, flagellanti et - consolanti. Dolor corporis salus est animae, et infirmitas temporalis, - sanitas perpetua. Libenter accipiamus, patienter feramus voluntatem - Salvatoris nostri."[236] - -This too is excellent, in language as in sentiment. So is another, and -last, sentence from our author, in a letter congratulating Charlemagne on -his final subjugation of the Huns, through which the survivors were -brought to a knowledge of the truth: - - "Qualis erit tibi gloria, O beatissime rex, in die aeternae - retributionis, quando hi omnes qui per tuam sollicitudinem ab - adolatriae cultura ad cognoscendum verum Deum conversi sunt, te ante - tribunal Domini nostri Jesu Christi in beata sorte stantem - sequentur!"[237] - -Again, the only trouble is stylelessness. In fine, an absence of quality -characterizes Carolingian prose, of which a last example may be taken from -the Spaniard Theodulphus, Bishop of Orleans, "an accomplished Latin poet," -and an educator yielding in importance to Alcuin alone. The sentence is -from an official admonition to the clergy, warning them to attach more -value to salvation than to lucre: - - "Admonendi sunt qui negotiis ac mercationibus rerum invigilant, ut non - plus terrenam quam viam cupiant sempiternam. Nam qui plus de rebus - terrenis quam de animae suae salute cogitat, valde a via veritatis - aberrat."[238] - -Evidently there was a good knowledge of Latin among these Carolingians, -who laboured for the revival of education and the preservation of the -Classics. The nadir of classical learning falls in the succeeding period -of break-up, confusion, and dawning re-adjustment. In the century or two -following the year 850, the writers were too unskilled in Latin and often -too cumbered by it, to manifest in their writings that unhampered and -distinctive reflex of a personality which we term style. A rare exception -would appear in such a potent scholar as Gerbert, who mastered whatever he -learned, and made it part of his own faculties and temperament. His -letters, consequently, have an individual style, however good or bad we -may be disposed to deem it.[239] - -Accordingly, until after the millennial year Latin prose shows little -beyond a clumsy heaviness resulting from the writer's insufficient mastery -of his medium; and there are many instances of barbarism and corruption of -the tongue without any compensating positive qualities. A dreadful example -is afforded by the _Chronicon_ of Benedictus, a monk of St. Andrews in -Monte Soracte, who lived in the latter part of the tenth century. He -relates, as history, the fable of Charlemagne's journey to the Holy Land; -and his own eyes may have witnessed the atrocious times of John XII., of -whom he speaks as follows: - - "Inter haec non multum tempus Agapitus papa decessit (an. 956). - Octabianus in sede sanctissima susceptus est, et vocatus est Johannes - duodecimi pape. Factus est tam lubricus sui corporis, et tam audaces, - quantum nunc in gentilis populo solebat fieri. Habebat consuetudinem - sepius venandi non quasi apostolicus sed quasi homo ferus. Erat enim - cogitio ejus vanum; diligebat collectio feminarum, odibiles - aecclesiarum, amabilis juvenis ferocitantes. Tanta denique libidine - sui corporis exarsit, quanta nunc (non?) possumus enarrare."[240] - -No need to draw further from this writing, which is characterized -throughout by crass ignorance of grammar and all else pertaining to Latin. -It has no individual qualities; it has no style. Leaving this example of -illiteracy, let us turn to a man of more knowledge, Odo, one of the -greatest of the abbots of Cluny, who died in the year 943. He left lengthy -writings, one of them a bulky epitome of the famous _Moralia_ of Gregory -the Great.[241] More original were his three dull books of _Collationes_, -or moral comments upon the Scriptures. They open with a heavy note which -their author might have drawn from the dark temperament of that great pope -whom he so deeply admired; but the language has a leaden quality which is -not Gregory's, but Odo's. - - "Auctor igitur et judex hominum Deus, licet ab illa felicitate - paradisi genus nostrum juste repulerit, suae tamen bonitatis memor, ne - totus reus homo quod meretur incurrat, hujus peregrinationis molestias - multis beneficiis demulcet." - -And, again, a little further on: - - "Omnis vero ejusdem Scripturae intentio est, ut nos ab hujus vitae - pravitatibus compescat. Nam idcirco terribilibus suis sententiis cor - nostrum, quasi quibusdam stimulis pungit, ut homo terrore pulsatus - expavescat, et divina judicia quae aut voluptate carnis aut terrena - sollicitudine discissus oblivisci facile solet, ad memoriam - reducat."[242] - -One feels the dull heaviness of this. Odo, like many of his -contemporaries, knew enough of Latin grammar, and had read some of the -Classics. But he had not mastered what he knew, and his knowledge was not -converted into power. The tenth century was still painfully learning the -lessons of its Christian and classical heritage. A similar lack of -personal facility may be observed in Ruotger's biography of Bruno, the -worthy brother of the great emperor Otto I., and Archbishop of Cologne. -Bruno died in 965, and Ruotger, who had been his companion, wrote his Life -without delay. It has not the didactic ponderousness of Odo's writing, but -its language is clumsy. The following passage is of interest as showing -Bruno's education and the kind of learned man it made him. - - "Deinde ubi prima grammaticae artis rudimenta percepit, sicut ab ipso - in Dei omnipotentis gloriam hoc saepius ruminante didicimus, - Prudentium poetam tradente magistro legere coepit. Qui sicut est et - fide intentioneque catholicus, et eloquentia veritateque praecipuus, - et metrorum librorumque varietate elegantissimus, tanta mox dulcedine - palato cordis ejus complacuit, ut jam non tantum exteriorum verborum - scientiam, verum intimi medullam sensus, et nectar ut ita dicam - liquidissimum, majori quam dici possit aviditate hauriret. Postea - nullum penitus erat studiorum liberalium genus in omni Graeca vel - Latina eloquentia, quod ingenii sui vivacitatem aufugeret. Nec vero, - ut solet, aut divitiarum affluentia, aut turbarum circumstrepentium - assiduitas, aut ullum aliunde subrepens fastidium ab hoc nobili otio - animum ejus unquam avertit.... Saepe inter Graecorum et Latinorum - doctissimos de philosophiae sublimitate aut de cujuslibet in illa - florentis disciplinae subtilitate disputantes doctus interpres medius - ipse consedit, et disputantibus ad plausum omnium, quo nihil minus - amaverat, satisfecit."[243] - -The gradual improvement in the writing of Latin in the Middle Ages, and -the evolution of distinctive mediaeval styles, did not result from a -larger acquaintance with the Classics, or a better knowledge of grammar -and school rhetoric. The range of classical reading might extend, or from -time to time contract, and Donatus and Priscian were used in the ninth -century as well as in the twelfth. It is true that the study of grammar -became more intelligent in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and its -teachers deferred less absolutely to the old rules and illustrations. They -recognized Christian standards of diction: first of all the Vulgate; next, -early Christian poets like Prudentius; and then gradually the mediaeval -versifiers who wrote and won approval in the twelfth century. Thus grammar -sought to follow current usage.[244] This endeavour culminated at the -close of the twelfth century in the _Doctrinale_ of Alexander of Villa -Dei.[245] Before this, much of the best mediaeval Latin prose and verse -had been written, and the period most devoted to the Classics had come and -was already waning. That period was this same twelfth century. During its -earlier half, Latinity gained doubtless from such improvement in the -courses of the Trivium as took place at Chartres, for example, an -improvement connected with the intellectual growth of the time. But the -increase in the knowledge of Latin was mainly such as a mature man may -realize within himself, if he has kept up his Latin reading, however -little he seem to have added to his knowledge since leaving his Alma -Mater. - -So the development of mediaeval Latin prose (and also verse) advanced with -the maturing of mediaeval civilization. That which was at the same time a -living factor in this growth and a result of it, was the more organic -appropriation of the classical and Christian heritages of culture and -religion. As intellectual faculties strengthened, and men drew power from -the past, they gained facility in moulding their Latin to their purposes. -Writings begin to reflect the personalities of the writers; the diction -ceases to be that of clumsy or clever school compositions, and presents an -evolution of tangible mediaeval styles. Henceforth, although a man be an -eager student of the Classics, like John of Salisbury for example, and try -to imitate their excellences, he will still write mediaeval Latin, and -with a personal style if he be a strong personality. The classical models -no longer trammel, but assist him to be more effectively himself on a -higher plane. - -If mediaeval civilization is to be regarded as that which the peoples of -western Europe attained under the two universal influences of Christianity -and antique culture, then nothing more mediaeval will be seen than -mediaeval Latin. To make it, the antique Latin had been modified and -reinspired and loosed by the Christian energies of the Fathers; and had -then passed on to peoples who never had been, or no longer were, antique. -They barbarized the language down to the rudeness of their faculties. As -they themselves advanced, they brought up Latin with them, as it were, -from the depths of the ninth and tenth centuries, but a Latin which in the -crude natures of these men had been stripped of classical quality; a Latin -barbarous and naked, and ready to be clothed upon with novel qualities -which should make it a new creature. Throughout all this process, while -Latin was sinking and re-emerging, it was worked upon and inspired by the -spirit of the uses to which it was predominantly applied, which were those -of the Roman Catholic Church and of the intimacies of the Christian soul, -pressing to expression in the learned tongue which they were transforming. - -In considering the Latin writings of the Middle Ages one should bear in -mind the differences between Italy and the North with respect to the -ancient language. These were important through the earlier Middle Ages, -when modes of diction sufficiently characteristic to be called styles, -were forming. The men of Latin-sodden Italy might have a fluent Latin when -those of the North still had theirs to learn. Thus there were Italians in -the eleventh century who wrote quite a distinctive Latin prose.[246] -Among them were St. Peter Damiani, and St. Anselm of Aosta, Bec, and -Canterbury. - -The former died full of virtue in the year 1072. We have elsewhere -observed his character and followed his career.[247] He was, to his great -anxiety, a classical scholar, who had earned large sums as a teacher of -rhetoric before natural inclination and fears for his soul drove him to an -ascetic life. He was a master of the Latin which he used. His style is -intense, eloquent, personal to himself as well as suited to his matter, -and reflects his ardent character and keen perceptions. The following is a -rhetorical yet beautiful description of a "last leaf," taken from one of -his compositions in praise of the hermit way of salvation. - - "Videamus in arbore folium sub ipsis pruinis hiemalibus lapsabundum, - et consumpto autumnalis clementiae virore, jamjam pene casurum, ita ut - vix ramusculo, cui dependet, inhaereat, sed apertissima levis ruinae - signa praetendat: inhorrescunt flabra, venti furentes hic inde - concutiunt, brumalis horror crassi aeris rigore densatur: atque, ut - magis stupeas, defluentibus reliquis undique foliis terra sternitur, - et depositis comis arbor suo decore nudatur; cum illud solum nullo - manente permaneat, et velut cohaeredum superstes in fraternae - possessionis jura succedat. Quid autem intelligendum in hujus rei - consideratione relinquitur, nisi quia nec arboris folium potest - cadere, nisi divinum praesumat imperium?"[248] - -Anselm's diction, in spite of its frequent cloister rhetoric, has a simple -and modern word-order. An account has already been given of his life and -of his thoughts, so beautifully sky-blue, unpurpled with the crimson of -human passion, which made the words of Augustine more veritably -incandescent.[249] The great African was the strongest individual -influence upon Anselm's thought and language. But the latter's style has -departed further from the classical sentence, and of itself indicates that -the writer belongs neither to the patristic period nor to the Carolingian -time, busied with its rearrangement of patristic thought. The following is -from his _Proslogion_ upon the existence of God. Through this discourse, -Deity and the Soul are addressed in the second person after the manner of -Augustine's _Confessions_. - - "Excita nunc, anima mea, et erige totum intellectum tuum, et cogita - quantum potes quale et quantum sit illud bonum (_i.e._ Deus). Si enim - singula bona delectabilia sunt, cogita intente quam delectabile sit - illud bonum quod continet jucunditatem omnium bonorum; et non qualem - in rebus creatis sumus experti, sed tanto differentem quanto differt - Creator a creatura. Si enim bona est vita creata, quam bona est vita - creatrix! Si jucunda est salus facta, quam jucunda est salus quae - fecit omnem salutem! Si amabilis est sapientia in cognitione rerum - conditarum, quam amabilis est sapientia quae omnia condidit ex nihilo! - Denique, si multae et magnae delectationes sunt in rebus - delectabilibus, qualis et quanta delectatio est in illo qui fecit ipsa - delectabilia!"[250] - -In a more emotional passage Anselm arouses in his soul the terror of the -Judgment. It is from a "Meditatio": - - "Taedet animam meam vitae meae; vivere erubesco, mori pertimesco. Quid - ergo restat tibi, o peccator, nisi ut in tota vita tua plores totam - vitam tuam, ut ipsa tota se ploret totam? Sed est in hoc quoque anima - mea miserabiliter mirabilis et mirabiliter miserabilis, quia non - tantum dolet quantum se noscit; sed sic secura torpet, velut quid - patiatur ignoret. O anima sterilis, quid agis? quid torpes, anima - peccatrix? Dies judicii venit, juxta est dies Domini magnus, juxta et - velox nimis, _dies irae dies illa_, dies tribulationis et angustiae, - dies calamitatis et miseriae, dies tenebrarum et caliginis, dies - nebulae et turbinis, dies tubae et clangoris. O vox diei Domini amara! - Quid dormitas, anima tepida et digna evomi?"[251] - -Damiani wrote in the middle of the eleventh century, Anselm in the latter -part. The northern lands could as yet show no such characteristic -styles,[252] although the classically educated German, Lambert of -Hersfeld, wrote as correctly and perspicuously as either. His _Annals_ -have won admiration for their clear and correct Latinity, modelled upon -the styles of Sallust and Livy. He died in 1077, the year of Canossa, his -_Annals_ covering the conflict between Henry IV. and Hildebrand up to that -event. The narrative moves with spirit, as one may see by reading his -description of King Henry and his consort struggling through Alpine ice -and snow to reach that castle never to be forgotten, and gain absolution -from the Pope before the ban should have completed Henry's ruin.[253] - -For the North, the best period of mediaeval Latin, prose as well as -verse, opens with the twelfth century. It was indeed the great literary -period of the Middle Ages. For the vernacular literatures flourished as -well as the Latin. Provençal literature began as the eleventh century -closed, and was stifled in the thirteenth by the Albigensian Crusade. So -the twelfth was its great period. Likewise with the Old French literature: -except the _Roland_ which is earlier, the chief _chansons de geste_ belong -to the twelfth century; also the romances of antiquity, to be spoken of -hereafter; also the romances of the Round Table, and a great mass of -_chansons_ and _fabliaux_. The Old German--or rather, _Mittel -Hochdeutsch_--literature touches its height as the century closes and the -next begins, in the works of Heinrich von Veldeke, Gottfried von -Strassburg, Wolfram von Eschenbach, and Walther von der Vogelweide. - -The best Latin writers of the century lived, or sojourned, or were -educated, for the most part in the France north of the Loire. Not that all -of them were natives of that territory; for some were German born, some -saw the light in England, and the birthplace of many is unknown. Yet they -seem to belong to France. Nearly all were ecclesiastics, secular or -regular. Many of them were notables in theology, like Hugo of St. Victor, -Abaelard, Alanus de Insulis (Lille); many were poets as well, like Alanus -and Hildebert and John of Salisbury too; one was a thunderer on the earth, -and a most deft politician, Bernard of Clairvaux. Some again are known -only as poets, sacred or profane, like Adam of St. Victor, and Walter of -Chatillon--but of these hereafter. The best Latin prose writing of this, -or any other, mediaeval period, had its definite purpose, metaphysical, -theological, or pietistic; and the writers have been or will be spoken of -in connection with their specific fields of intellectual achievement or -religious fervour. Here, without discussing the men or their works, some -favourable examples of their writing will be given. - -In the last passage quoted from Anselm, the reader must have felt the -working of cloister rhetoric, and have noticed the antitheses and rhymes, -to which mediaeval Latin lent itself so readily. Yet it is a slight affair -compared with the confounding sonorousness, the flaring pictures, and -terrifying climaxes of St. Bernard when preaching upon the same topic--the -Judgment Day. In one of his famous sermons on Canticles, the saint has -been suggesting to his audience, the monks of Clara Vallis, that although -the _Father_ might ignore faults, not so the _Dominus_ and _Creator_: "et -qui parcit filio, non parcet figmento, non parcet servo nequam." Listen to -the carrying out and pointing of this thought: - - "Pensa cujus sit formidinis et horroris tuum atque omnium contempsisse - factorem, offendisse Dominum majestatis. Majestatis est timeri, Domini - est timeri, et maxime hujus majestatis, hujusque Domini. Nam si reum - regiae majestatis, quamvis humanae, humanis legibus plecti capite - sancitum sit, quis finis contemnentium divinam omnipotentiam erit? - Tangit montes, et fumigant; et tam tremendam majestatem audet irritare - vilis pulvisculus, uno levi flatu mox dispergendus, et minime - recolligendus? Ille, ille timendus est, qui postquam acciderit corpus, - potestatem habet mittere et in gehennam. Paveo gehennam, paveo judicis - vultum, ipsis quoque tremendum angelicis potestatibus. Contremisco ab - ira potentis, a facie furoris ejus, a fragore ruentis mundi, a - conflagratione elementorum, a tempestate valida, a voce archangeli, et - a verbo aspero. [Feel the climax of this sentence, which tells the end - of the sinner.] Contremisco a dentibus bestiae infernalis, a ventre - inferi, a rugientibus praeparatis ad escam. Horreo vermem rodentem, et - ignem torrentem, fumum, et vaporem, et sulphur, et spiritum - procellarum; horreo tenebras exteriores. Quis dabit capiti meo aquam, - et oculis meis fontem lacrymarum ut praeveniam fletibus fletum, et - stridorem dentium, et manuum pedumque dura vincula, et pondus - catenarum prementium, stringentium, urentium, nec consumentium? Heu - me, mater mea! utquid me genuisti filium doloris, filium amaritudinis, - indignationis et plorationis aeternae? Cur exceptus genibus, cur - lactatus uberibus, natus in combustionem, et cibus ignis?"[254] - -As one recovers from the sound and power of this high-wrought passage, he -notices how readily it might be turned into the form of a Latin hymn; and -also how very modern is its sequence of words. Bernard's Latin could -whisper intimate love, as well as thunder terror. He says, preaching on -the _medicina_, the healing power, of Jesu's name: - - "Hoc tibi electuarium habes, o anima mea, reconditum in vasculo - vocabuli hujus quod est Jesus, salutiferum, certe, quodque nulli - unquam pesti tuae inveniatur inefficax."[255] - -With the music of this prose one may compare the sweet personal plaint of -the following: - - "Felices quos abscondit in tabernaculo suo in umbra alarum suarum - sperantes, donec transeat iniquitas. Caeterum ego infelix, pauper et - nudus, homo natus ad laborem, implumis avicula pene omni tempore - nidulo exsulans, vento exposita et turbini, turbatus sum et motus sum - sicut ebrius, et omnis conscientia mea devorata est."[256] - -Extracts can give no idea of Bernard's literary powers, any more than a -small volume could tell the story of that life which, so to speak, was -_magna pars_ of all contemporary history. But since he was one of the best -of Latin letter-writers, one should not omit an example of his varied -epistolary style, which can be known in its compass only from a large -reading of his letters. The following is a short letter, written to win -back to the cloister a delicately nurtured youth whose parents had lured -him out into the world. - - "Doleo super te, fili mi Gaufride, doleo super te. Et merito. Quis - enim non doleat florem juventutis tuae, quem laetantibus angelis Deo - illibatum obtuleras in odorem suavitatis, nunc a daemonibus - conculcari, vitiorum spurcitiis, et saeculi sordibus inquinari? - Quomodo qui vocatus eras a Deo, revocantem diabolum sequeris, et quem - Christus trahere coeperat post se, repente pedem ab ipso introitu - gloriae retraxisti? In te experior nunc veritatem sermonis Domini, - quem dixit: Inimici hominis, domestici ejus (Matt. x. 36). Amici tui - et proximi tui adversum te appropinquaverunt, et steterunt. - Revocaverunt te in fauces leonis, et in portis mortis iterum - collocaverunt te. Collocaverunt te in obscuris, sicut mortuos saeculi: - et jam parum est ut descendas in ventrem inferi; jam te deglutire - festinat, ac rugientibus praeparatis ad escam tradere devorandum. - - "Revertere, quaeso, revertere, priusquam te absorbeat profundum, et - urgeat super te puteus os suum; priusquam demergaris, unde ulterius - non emergas; priusquam ligatis manibus et pedibus projiciaris in - tenebras exteriores, ubi est fletus et stridor dentium; priusquam - detrudaris in locum tenebrosum, et opertum mortis caligine. Erubescis - forte redire, quia ad horam cessisti. Erubesce fugam, et non post - fugam reverti in proelium, et rursum pugnare. Necdum finis pugnae, - necdum ab invicem dimicantes acies discesserunt: adhuc victoria prae - manibus est. Si vis, nolumus vincere sine te, nec tuam tibi invidemus - gloriae portionem. Laeti occuremus tibi, laetis te recipiemus - amplexibus, dicemusque: Epulari et gaudere oportet, quia hic filius - noster mortuus fuerat, et revixit; perierat, et inventus est" (Luc. - xv. 32).[257] - -The argument of this letter is, from the standpoint of Bernard's time, as -resistless as the style. Did it win back the little monk? Many wonderful -examples of loving expression could be drawn from Bernard's letters;[258] -but instead an instance may be given of his none too subtle way of -uttering his hate: "Arnaldus de Brixia, cujus conversatio mel et doctrina -venenum, cui caput columbae, cauda scorpionis est, quem Brixia evomuit, -Roma exhorruit, Francia repulit, Germania abominatur, Italia non vult -recipere, fertur esse vobiscum."[259] And then he proceeds to warn his -correspondent of the danger of intercourse with this arch-enemy of the -Church. - -Considering that Latin was a tongue which youths learned at school rather -than at their mothers' knees, such writing as Bernard's is a triumphant -recasting of an ancient language. One notices in him, as generally with -mediaeval religious writers, the influence of the Vulgate, which was -mainly in the language of St. Jerome--of Jerome when not writing as a -literary virtuoso, but as a scholar occupied with rendering the meaning, -and willing to accept such linguistic innovations as served his -purpose.[260] But beyond this influence, one sees how masterful is -Bernard's diction, quite freed from observance of classical principles, -quite of the writer and his time, adapting itself with ease and power to -the topic and character of the composition, and always expressive of the -personality of the mighty saint. - -Hildebert of Le Mans was a few years older than St. Bernard. As an example -of his prose a letter may be cited, of which the translation has been -given. It was written in 1128, when he was Archbishop of Tours, in protest -against the encroachments of the royal power of the French king, Louis the -Fat, upon the rights of the Archiepiscopacy of Tours in the matter of -ecclesiastical appointments within that diocese: - - "In adversis nonnullum solatium est, tempora sperare laetiora. Diutius - spes haec mihi blandita est, et velut agricolam messis in herba, sic - animum meum prosperitatis expectatio confortavit. Caeterum jam nihil - est quo serenitatem nimbosi temporis exspectem, nihil est quo navis, - in cujus puppi sedeo, crebris agitata turbinibus, portum quietis - attingat. - - "Silent amici, silent sacerdotes Jesu Christi. Denique silent et illi - quorum suffragio credidi regem mecum in gratiam rediturum. Credidi - quidem, sed super dolorem vulnerum meorum rex, illis silentibus, - adjecit. Eorum tamen erat gravamini ecclesiae canonicis obviare - institutis. Eorum erat, si res postulasset, opponere murum pro domo - Israel. Verum apud serenissimum regem opus est exhortatione potius - quam increpatione, consilio quam praecepto, doctrina quam virga. His - ille conveniendus fuit, his reverenter instruendus, ne sagittas suas - in sene compleret sacerdote, ne sanctiones canonicas evacuaret, ne - persequeretur cineres Ecclesiae jam sepultae, cineres in quibus ego - panem doloris manduco, in quibus bibo calicem luctus, de quibus eripi - et evadere, de morte ad vitam transire est. - - "Inter has tamen angustias, nunquam de me sic ira triumphavit, ut - aliquem super Christo Domini clamorem deponere vellem, seu pacem - ipsius in manu forti et brachio Ecclesiae adipisci. Suspecta est pax - ad quam, non amore sed vi, sublimes veniunt potestates. Ea facile - rescindetur, et fiunt aliquando novissima pejora prioribus. Alia est - via qua compendiosius ad eam Christo perducente pertingam. Jactabo - cogitatum meum in Domino, et ipse dabit mihi petitionem cordis mei. - Recordatus est Dominus Joseph, cujus pincerna Pharaonis oblitus, dum - prospera succederent, interveniendi pro eo curam abjecit.... Fortassis - recordabitur et mei, atque in desiderato littore navem sistet - fluctuantem. Ipse enim est qui respicit in orationem humilium, et non - spernit preces eorum. Ipse est in cujus manu corda regum cerea sunt. - Si invenero gratiam in oculis ejus, gratiam regis vel facile - consequar, vel utiliter amittam. Siquidem offendere hominem proper - Deum lucrari est gratiam Dei."[261] - -John of Salisbury (1110-1180), much younger than Hildebert and a little -younger than Bernard, seems to have been the best scholar of his time. -With the Classics he is as one in the company of friends; he cites them as -readily as Scripture; their _sententiae_ have become part of his views of -life. John was an eager humanist, who followed his studies to whatever -town and to the feet of whatsoever teacher they might lead him. So he -listened to Abaelard and many others. His writing is always lively and -often forcible, especially when vituperating the set who despised classic -reading. His most vivacious work, the _Metalogicus_, was directed against -their unnamed prophet, whom he dubs "Cornificus."[262] Its opening passage -is of interest as John's exordium, and because a somewhat consciously -intending stylist like our John is likely to exhibit his utmost virtuosity -in the opening sentences of an important work: - - "Adversus insigne donum naturae parentis et gratiae, calumniam veterem - et majorum nostrorum judicio condemnatam excitat improbus litigator, - et conquirens undique imperitiae suae solatia, sibi proficere sperat - ad gloriam, si multos similes sui, id est si eos viderit imperitos; - habet enim hoc proprium arrogantiae tumor, ut se commetiatur aliis, - bona sua, si qua sunt, efferens, deprimens aliena; defectumque - proximi, suum putet esse profectum. Omnibus autem recte sapientibus - indubium est quod natura, clementissima parens omnium, et - dispositissima moderatrix, inter caetera quae genuit animantia, - hominem privilegio rationis extulit, et usu eloquii insignivit: id - agens sedulitate officiosa, et lege dispositissima, ut homo qui - gravedine faeculentioris naturae et molis corporeae tarditate - premebatur et trahebatur ad ima, his quasi subvectus alis, ad alta - ascendat, et ad obtinendum verae beatitudinis bravium, omnia alia - felici compendio antecebat. Dum itaque naturam fecundat gratia, ratio - rebus perspiciendis et examinandis invigilat; naturae sinus excutit, - metitur fructus et efficaciam singulorum: et innatus omnibus amor - boni, naturali urgente se appetitu, hoc, aut solum, aut prae caeteris - sequitur, quod percipiendae beatitudini maxime videtur esse - accommodum."[263] - -One perceives the effect of classical studies; yet the passage is good -twelfth-century Latin, quite different from the compositions of the -Carolingian epoch, those, for example, from the pen of Alcuin, who had -studied the Classics like John, but unlike him had no personal style. One -gains similar impressions from the diction of the _Polycraticus_, a -lengthy, discursive work in which John surprises us with his classical -equipment. Although containing many quoted passages, it is not made of -extracts strung together; but reflects the sentiments or tells the -opinions of ancient philosophers in the writer's own way. The following -shows John's knowledge of early Greek philosophers, and is a fair example -of his ordinary style: - - "Alterum vero philosophorum genus est, quod Ionicum dicitur et a - Graecis ulterioribus traxit originem. Horum princeps fuit Thales - Milesius, unus illorum septem, qui dicti sunt sapientes. Iste cum - rerum naturam scrutatus, inter caeteros emicuisset, maxime admirabilis - exstitit, quod astrologiae numeris comprehensis, solis et lunae - defectus praedicebat. Huic successit Anaximander ejus auditor, qui - Anaximenem discipulum reliquit et successorem. Diogenes quoque ejusdem - auditor exstitit, et Anaxagoras, qui omnium rerum quas videmus, - effectorem divinum animum docuit. Ei successit auditor ejus Archelaüs, - cujus discipulus Socrates fuisse perhibetur, magister Platonis, qui, - teste Apuleio, prius Aristoteles dictus est, sed deinde a latitudine - pectoris Plato, et in tantam eminentiam philosophiae, et vigore - ingenii, et studii exercitio, et omnium morum venustate, eloquii - quoque suavitate et copia subvectus est, ut quasi in throno sapientiae - residens, praecepta quadam auctoritate visus est, tam antecessoribus - quam successoribus philosophis, imperare. Et primus quidem Socrates - universam philosophiam ad corrigendos componendosque mores flexisse - memoratur, cum ante illum omnes physicis, id est rebus naturalibus - perscrutandis, maximam operam dederint."[264] - -These extracts from the writings of saints and scholars may be -supplemented by two extracts from compositions of another class. The -mediaeval chronicle has not a good reputation. Its credulity and -uncritical spirit varied with the time and man. Little can be said in -favour of its general form, which usually is stupidly chronological, or -annalistic. The example of classical historical composition was lost on -mediaeval annalists. Yet their work is not always dull; and, by the -twelfth century, their diction had become as mediaeval as that of the -theologian rhetoricians, although it rarely crystallizes to personal style -by reason of the insignificance of the writers. A well-known work of this -kind is the _Gesta Dei per Francos_, by Guibert of Nogent, who wrote his -account of the First Crusade a few years after its turmoil had passed by. -The following passage tells of proceedings upon the conclusion of Urban's -great crusading oration at the Council of Clermont in 1099: - - "Peroraverat vir excellentissimus, et omnes qui se ituros voverant, - beati Petri potestate absolvit, eadem, ipsa apostolica auctoritate - firmavit, et signum satis conveniens hujus tam honestae professionis - instituit, et veluti cingulum militiae, vel potius militaturis Deo - passionis Dominicae stigma tradens, crucis figuram, ex cujuslibet - materiae panni, tunicis, byrris et palliis iturorum, assui mandavit. - Quod si quis, post hujus signi acceptionem, aut post evidentis voti - pollicitationem ab ista benevolentia, prava poenitudine, aut aliquorum - suorum affectione resileret, ut exlex perpetuo haberetur omnino - praecepit, nisi resipisceret; idemque quod omiserat foede repeteret. - Praeterea omnes illos atroci damnavit anathemate, qui eorum uxoribus, - filiis, aut possessionibus, qui hoc Dei iter aggrederentur, per - integrum triennii tempus, molestiam auderent inferre. Ad extremum, - cuidam viro omnimodis laudibus efferendo, Podiensis urbis episcopo, - cujus nomen doleo quia neque usquam reperi, nec audivi, curam super - eadem expeditione regenda contulit, et vices suas ipsi, super - Christiani populi quocunque venirent institutione, commisit. Unde et - manus ei, more apostolorum, data pariter benedictione, imposuit. Quod - ille quam sagaciter sit exsecutus, docet mirabilis operis tanti - exitus."[265] - -This Frenchman Guibert is almost vivacious. A certain younger contemporary -of his, of English birth, could construct his narrative quite as well. -Ordericus Vitalis (d. 1142) is said to have been born at Wroxeter, though -he spent most of his life as monk of St. Evroult in Normandy. There he -wrote his _Historia Ecclesiastica_ of Normandy and England. His account of -the loss of the _White Ship_ in 1120 tells the story: - - "Thomas, filius Stephani, regem adiit, eique marcum auri offerens, - ait: 'Stephanus, Airardi filius, genitor meus fuit, et ipse in omni - vita sua patri tuo in mari servivit. Nam illum, in sua puppe vectum, - in Angliam conduxit, quando contra Haraldum pugnaturus, in Angliam - perrexit. Hujusmodi autem officio usque ad mortem famulando ei - placuit, et ab eo multis honoratus exeniis, inter contribules suos - magnifice floruit. Hoc feudum, domine rex, a te requiro, et vas quod - Candida-Navis appellatur, merito ad regalem famulatum optime - instructum habeo.' Cui rex ait: 'Gratum habeo quod petis. Mihi quidem - aptam navim elegi, quam non mutabo; sed filios meos, Guillelmum et - Richardum, quos sicut me diligo, cum multa regni mei nobilitate, nunc - tibi commendo.' - - "His auditis, nautae gavisi sunt, filioque regis adulantes, vinum ab - eo ad bibendum postulaverunt. At ille tres vini modios ipsis dari - praecepit. Quibus acceptis, biberunt, sociisque abundanter - propinaverunt, nimiumque potantes inebriati sunt. Jussu regis multi - barones cum filiis suis puppim ascenderunt, et fere trecenti, ut - opinor, in infausta nave fuerunt. Duo siquidem monachi Tironis, et - Stephanus comes cum duobus militibus, Guillelmus quoque de Rolmara, et - Rabellus Camerarius, Eduardus de Salesburia, et alii plures inde - exierunt, quia nimiam multitudinem lascivae et pompaticae juventutis - inesse conspicati sunt. Periti enim remiges quinquaginta ibi erant, et - feroces epibatae, qui jam in navi sedes nacti turgebant, et suimet - prae ebrietate immemores, vix aliquem reverenter agnoscebant. Heu! - quamplures illorum mentes pia devotione erga Deum habebant vacuas - - 'Qui maris immodicas moderatur et aeris iras.' - - Unde sacerdotes, qui ad benedicendos illos illuc accesserant, aliosque - ministros qui aquam benedictam deferebant, cum dedecore et cachinnis - subsannantes abigerunt; sed paulo post derisionis suae ultionem - receperunt. - - "Soli homines, cum thesauro regis et vasis merum ferentibus, Thomae - carinam implebant, ipsumque ut regiam classem, quae jam aequora - sulcabat, summopere prosequeretur, commonebant. Ipse vero, quia - ebrietate desipiebat, in virtute sua, satellitumque suorum confidebat, - et audacter, quia omnes qui jam praecesserant praeiret, spondebat. - Tandem navigandi signum dedit. Porro schippae remos haud segniter - arripuerunt, et alia laeti, quia quid eis ante oculos penderet - nesciebant, armamenta coaptaverunt, navemque cum impetu magno per - pontum currere fecerunt. Cumque remiges ebrii totis navigarent - conatibus, et infelix gubernio male intenderet cursui dirigendo per - pelagus, ingenti saxo quod quotidie fluctu recedente detegitur et - rursus accessu maris cooperitur, sinistrum latus Candidae-Navis - vehementer illisum est, confractisque duabus tabulis, ex insperato, - navis, proh dolor! subversa est. Omnes igitur in tanto discrimine - simul exclamaverunt; sed aqua mox implente ora, pariter perierunt. - Duo soli virgae qua velum pendebat manus injecerunt, et magna noctis - parte pendentes, auxilium quodlibet praestolati sunt. Unus erat - Rothomagensis carnifex, nomine Beroldus, et alter generosus puer, - nomine Goisfredus, Gisleberti de Aquila filius. - - "Tunc luna in signo Tauri nona decima fuit, et fere ix horis radiis - suis mundum illustravit, et navigantibus mare lucidum reddidit. Thomas - nauclerus post primam submersionem vires resumpsit, suique memor, - super undas caput extulit, et videns capita eorum qui ligno utcunque - inhaerebant, interrogavit: 'Filius regis quid devenit?' Cumque - naufragi respondissent illum cum omnibus collegis suis deperisse: - 'Miserum,' inquit, 'est amodo meum vivere.' Hoc dicto, male desperans, - maluit illic occumbere, quam furore irati regis pro pernicie prolis - oppetere, seu longas in vinculis poenas luere."[266] - -Our examples thus far belong to the twelfth century. As touching its -successor, it will be interesting to observe the qualities of two opposite -kinds of writing, the one springing from the intellectual activities, and -the other from the religious awakening, of the time. In the thirteenth -century, scientific and scholastic writing was of representative -importance, and deeply affected the development of Latin prose. Very -different in style were the Latin stories and _vitae_ of the blessed -Francis of Assisi and other saints, composed in Italy. - -Roger Bacon, of whom there will be much to say, composed most of his -extant works about the year 1267.[267] His language is often rough and -involved, from his impetuosity and eagerness to utter what was in him. But -it is always vigorous. He took pains to say just what he meant, and what -was worth saying; and frequently rewrote his sentences. His writings show -little rhetoric; yet they are stamped with a Baconian style, which has a -cumulative force. The word-order is modern with scarcely a trace of the -antique. Perhaps we may say that he wrote Latin like an Englishman of -vehement temper and great intellect. He is powerful in continuous -exposition; yet instances of his general, and very striking statements, -will illustrate his diction at its best. In the following sentence he -recognizes the progressiveness of knowledge, a rare idea in the Middle -Ages: - - "Nam semper posteriores addiderunt ad opera priorum, et multa - correxerunt, et plura mutaverunt, sicut maxime per Aristotelem patet, - qui omnes sententias praecedentium discussit."[268] - -Again, he animadverts upon the duty of thirteenth-century Christians to -supply the defects of the old philosophers: - - "Quapropter antiquorum defectus deberemus nos posteriores supplere, - quia introivimus in labores eorum, per quos, nisi simus asini, - possumus ad meliora excitari; quia miserrimum est semper uti inventis - et nunquam inveniendis."[269] - -Speaking of language, he says: - - "Impossibile est quod proprietas unius linguae servetur in alia."[270] - ("The idioms of one language cannot be preserved in a translation.") - And again: "Omnes philosophi fuerunt post patriarchas et prophetas ... - et legerunt libros prophetarum et patriarcharum qui sunt in sacro - textu."[271] ("The philosophers of Greece came after the prophets of - the Old Testament and read their works contained in the sacred text.") - -In the first of these sentences Bacon shows his linguistic insight; in the -second he reflects an uncritical view entertained since the time of the -Church Fathers; in both, he writes with an order of words requiring no -change in an English translation. - -In his time, Bacon had but a sorry fame, and his works no influence. The -writings of his younger contemporary Thomas Aquinas exerted greater -influence than those of any man after Augustine. They represent the -culmination of scholasticism. He was Italian born, and his language, -however difficult the matter, is lucidity itself. It is never rhetorical; -but measured, temperate, and balanced; properly proceeding from the mind -which weighed every proposition in the scales of universal consideration. -Sometimes it gains a certain fervour from the clarity and import of the -statement which it so lucidly conveys. In article eighth, of the first -Questio, of Pars Prima of the _Summa theologiae_, Thomas thus decides that -Theology is a rational (_argumentativa_) science: - - "Respondeo dicendum quod, sicut aliae scientiae non argumentantur ad - sua principia probanda, sed ex principiis argumentantur ad ostendendum - alia in ipsis scientiis; ita haec doctrina non argumentatur ad sua - principia probanda, quae sunt articuli fidei; sed ex eis procedit ad - aliquid aliud ostendendum; sicut Apostolus I ad Cor. xv., ex - resurrectione Christi argumentatur ad resurrectionem communem - probandam. - - "Sed tamen considerandum est in scientiis philosophicis, quod - inferiores scientiae nec probant sua principia, nec contra negantem - principia disputant, sed hoc relinquunt superiori scientiae: suprema - vero inter eas, scilicet metaphysica, disputat contra negantem sua - principia, si adversarius aliquid concedit: si autem nihil concedit, - non potest cum eo disputare, potest tamen solvere rationes ipsius. - Unde sacra scriptura (_i.e._ Theology), cum non habeat superiorem, - disputat cum negante sua principia: argumentando quidem, si - adversarius aliquid concedat eorum quae per divinam revelationem - habentur; sicut per auctoritates sacrae doctrinae disputamus contra - hereticos, et per unum articulum contra negantes alium. Si vero - adversarius nihil credat eorum quae divinitus revelantur, non remanet - amplius via ad probandum articulos fidei per rationes, sed ad - solvendum rationes, si quas inducit, contra fidem. Cum enim fides - infallibili veritati innitatur, impossibile autem sit de vero - demonstrari contrarium, manifestum est probationes quae contra fidem - inducuntur, non esse demonstrationes, sed solubilia argumenta."[272] - -Of a different intellectual temperament was John of Fidanza, known as St. -Bonaventura.[273] He also was born and passed his youth in Italy. This -sainted General of the Franciscan Order was a few years older than the -great Dominican, who was his friend. Both doctors died in the year 1274. -Bonaventura's powers of constructive reasoning were excellent. His diction -is clear and beautiful, and eloquent with a spiritual fervour whenever the -matter is such as to evoke it. His account of how he came to write his -famous little _Itinerarium mentis in Deum_ is full of temperament. - - "Cum igitur exemplo beatissimi patris Francisci hanc pacem anhelo - spiritu quaererem, ego peccator, qui loco ipsius patris beatissimi - post eius transitum septimus in generali fratrum ministerio per omnia - indignus succedo; contigit, ut nutu divino circa Beati ipsius - transitum, anno trigesimo tertio ad montem Alvernae tanquam ad locum - quietum amore quaerendi pacem spiritus declinarem, ibique existens, - dum mente tractarem aliquas mentales ascensiones in Deum, inter alia - occurrit illud miraculum, quod in praedicto loco contigit ipsi beato - Francisco, de visione scilicet Seraph alati ad instar Crucifixi. In - cuius consideratione statim visum est mihi, quod visio illa - praetenderet ipsius patris suspensionem in contemplando et viam, per - quam pervenitur ad eam."[274] - -And Bonaventura at the end of his _Itinerarium_ speaks of the perfect -passing of Francis into God through the very mystic climax of -contemplation, concluding thus: - - "Si autem quaeras, quomodo haec fiant, interroga gratiam, non - doctrinam; desiderium, non intellectum; gemitum orationis, non studium - lectionis; sponsum, non magistrum; Deum, non hominem; caliginem, non - claritatem; non lucem, sed ignem totaliter inflammantem et in Deum - excessivis unctionibus et ardentissimis affectionibus - transferentem."[275] - -Bonaventura's fervent diction will serve to carry us over from the more -unmitigated intellectuality of Bacon and Thomas to the simpler matter of -those personal and pious narratives from which may be drawn concluding -illustrations of mediaeval Latin prose. Some of the authors will show the -skill which comes from training; others are quite innocent of grammar, and -their Latin has made a happy surrender to the genius of their vernacular -speech, which was the _lingua vulgaris_ of northern Italy. - -One of the earliest biographers of St. Francis of Assisi was Thomas of -Celano, a skilled Latinist, who was enraptured with the loveliness of -Francis's life. His diction is limpid and rhythmical. A well-known passage -in his _Vita prima_ (for he wrote two Lives) tells of Francis's joyous -assurance of the great work which God would accomplish through the simple -band who formed the beginnings of the Order. This assurance crystallized -in a vision of multitudes hurrying to join. Francis speaks to the -brethren: - - "Confortamini, charissimi, et gaudete in Domino, nec, quia pauci - videmini, efficiamini tristes. Ne vos deterreat mea, vel vestra - simplicitas, quoniam sicut mihi a Domino in veritate ostensum est, in - maximam multitudinem faciet vos crescere Deus, et usque ad fines orbis - multipliciter dilatabit. Vidi multitudinem magnam hominum ad nos - venientium, et in habitu sanctae conversationis beataeque religionis - regula nobiscum volentium conversari; et ecce adhuc sonitus eorum est - in auribus meis, euntium, et redeuntium secundum obedientiae sanctae - mandatum: vidique vias ipsorum multitudine plenas ex omni fere natione - in his partibus convenire. Veniunt Francigenae, festinant Hispani, - Teuthonici, et Anglici currunt, et aliarum diversarum linguarum - accelerat maxima multitudo. - - "Quod cum audissent fratres, repleti sunt gaudio Salvatoris sive - propter gratiam, quam dominus Deus contulerat sancto suo, sive quia - proximorum lucrum sitiebant ardenter, quos desiderabant ut salvi - essent, in idipsum quotidie augmentari."[276] - -We feel the flow and rhythm, and note the agreeable balancing of clauses. -Francis died in 1226. The _Vita prima_ by Celano was approved by Gregory -IX. in 1229. Already other matter touching the saint was gathering in -anecdote and narrative. Much of it was brought together in the so-called -_Speculum perfectionis_, which has been confidently but very questionably -ascribed to Francis's personal disciple, Brother Leo. Brother Leo, or -whoever may have been the narrator or compiler, was no scholar; his Latin -is naively incorrect, and has also the simplicity of Gospel narrative. -Indeed this Latin is as effectively "vulgarized" as the Greek of Matthew's -Gospel. An interesting passage tells with what loving wisdom Francis -interpreted a text of Scripture: - - "Manente ipso apud Senas venit ad eum quidam doctor sacrae theologiae - de ordine Praedicatorum, vir utique humilis et spiritualis valde. Quum - ipse cum beato Francisco de verbis Domini simul aliquamdiu - contulissent interrogavit eum magister de illo verbo Ezechielis: _Si - non annuntiaveris impio impietatem suam animam ejus de manu tua - requiram_. Dixit enim: 'Multos, bone pater, ego cognosco in peccato - mortali quibus non annuntio impietatem eorum, numquid de manu mea - ipsorum animae requirentur?' - - "Cui beatus Franciscus humiliter dixit se esse idiotam et ideo magis - expedire sibi doceri ab eo quam super scripturae sententiam - respondere. Tunc ille humilis magister adjecit: 'Frater, licet ab - aliquibus sapientibus hujus verbi expositionem audiverim, tamen - libenter super hoc vestrum perciperem intellectum.' Dixit ergo beatus - Franciscus: 'Si verbum debeat generaliter intelligi, ego taliter - accipio ipsum quod servus Dei sic debet vita et sanctitate in seipso - ardere vel fulgere ut luce exempli et lingua sanctae conversationis - omnes impios reprehendat. Sic, inquam, splendor ejus et odor famae - ipsius annuntiabit omnibus iniquitates eorum.' - - "Plurimum itaque doctor ille aedificatus recedens dixit sociis beati - Francisci: 'Fratres mei, theologia hujus viri puritate et - contemplatione subnixa est aquila volans, nostra vero scientia ventre - graditur super terram.'"[277] - -Another passage has Francis breaking out in song from the joy of his love -of Christ: - - "Ebrius amore et compassione Christi beatus Franciscus quandoque talia - faciebat, nam dulcissima melodia spiritus intra se ipsum ebulliens - frequenter exterius gallice dabat sonum et vena divini susurrii quam - auris ejus suscipiebat furtive gallicum erumpebat in jubilum. - - "Lignum quandoque colligebat de terra ipsumque sinistro brachio - superponens aliud lignum per modum arcus in manu dextera trahebat - super illud, quasi super viellam vel aliud instrumentum atque gestus - ad hoc idoneos faciens gallice cantabat de Domino Jesu Christo. - Terminabatur denique tota haec tripudiatio in lacrymas et in - compassionem passionis Christi hic jubilus solvebatur. - - "In his trahebat continue suspiria et ingeminatis gemitibus eorum quae - tenebat in manibus oblitus suspendebatur ad caelum."[278] - -This Latin is as childlike as the Old Italian of the _Fioretti_ of St. -Francis; it has a like word-order, and one might almost add, a like -vocabulary. The simple, ignorant writer seems as if held by a direct and -personal inspiration from the familiar life of the sweet saint. His -language reflects that inspiration, and mirrors his own childlike -character. Hence he has a style, direct, effective, moving to tears and -joy, like his impression of the blessed Francis. - -A not dissimilar kind of childlike Latin could attain to a remarkable -symmetry and balance. The _Legenda aurea_ is before us, written by the -Dominican Jacobus à Voragine, by race a Genoese, and living toward the -close of the thirteenth century. This book was the most popular compend of -saints' lives in use in the later Middle Ages. Its stories are told with -fascinating _naïveté_. We cite the opening sentences from its chapter on -the Annunciation, just to show the harmony and balance of its periods. The -passage is exceptional and almost formal in these qualities: - - "Annunciatio dominica dicitur, quia in tali die ab angelo adventus - filii Dei in carnem fuit annuntiatus, congruum enim fuit, ut - incarnationem praecederet angelica annuntiatio, triplici ratione. - Primo ratione ordinis connotandi, ut scilicet ordo reparationis - responderet ordini praevaricationis. Unde sicut dyabolus tentavit - mulierem, ut eam pertraheret ad dubitationem et per dubitationem ad - consensum et per consensum ad lapsum, sic angelus nuntiavit virgini, - ut nuntiando excitaret ad fidem et per fidem ad consensum et per - consensum ad concipiendum Dei filium. Secundo ratione ministerii - angelici, quia enim angelus est Dei minister et servus et beata virgo - electa erat, ut esset Dei mater, et congruum est ministrum dominae - famulari, conveniens fuit, ut beatae virgini annuntiatio per angelum - fieret. Tertio ratione lapsus angelici reparandi. Quia enim incarnatio - non tantum faciebat ad reparationem humani lapsus, sed etiam ad - reparationem ruinae angelicae, ideo angeli non debuerunt excludi. Unde - sicut sexus mulieris non excluditur a cognitione mysterii - incarnationis et resurrectionis, sic etiam nec angelicus nuntius. Imo - Deus utrumque angelo mediante nuntiat mulieri, scilicet incarnationem - virgini Mariae et resurrectionem Magdelenae."[279] - -These extracts bring us far into the thirteenth century. Two hundred years -later, mediaeval Latin prose, if one may say so, sang its swan song in -that little book which is a last, sweet, and composite echo of all -mellifluous mediaeval piety. Yet perhaps this _De imitatione Christi_ of -Thomas à Kempis can scarcely be classed as prose, so full is it of -assonances and rhythms fit for chanting. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - -EVOLUTION OF MEDIAEVAL LATIN VERSE - - I. METRICAL VERSE. - - II. SUBSTITUTION OF ACCENT FOR QUANTITY. - - III. SEQUENCE-HYMN AND STUDENT-SONG. - - IV. PASSAGE OF THEMES INTO THE VERNACULAR. - - -In mediaeval Latin poetry the endeavour to preserve a classical style and -the irresistible tendency to evolve new forms are more palpably -distinguishable than in the prose. For there is a visible parting of the -ways between the retention of the antique metres and their fruitful -abandonment in verses built of accentual rhyme. Moreover, this formal -divergence corresponds to a substantial difference, inasmuch as there was -usually a larger survival of antique feeling and allusion in the mediaeval -metrical attempts than in the rhyming poems. - -As in the prose, so in the poetry, the lines of development may be -followed from the Carolingian time. But a difference will be found between -Italy and the North; for in Italy the course was quicker, but a less -organic evolution resulted in verse less excellent and less distinctly -mediaeval. By the end of the eleventh century Latin poetry in Italy, -rhyming or metrical, seems to have drawn itself along as far as it was -destined to progress; but in the North a richer growth culminates a -century later. Indeed the most originative line of evolution of mediaeval -Latin verse would seem to have been confined to the North, in the main if -not exclusively. - -The following pages offer no history of mediaeval Latin poetry, even as -the previous chapter made no attempt to sketch the history of the prose. -Their object is to point out the general lines along which the -verse-forms were developed, or were perhaps retarded. Three may be -distinguished. The first is marked by the retention of quantity and the -endeavour to preserve the ancient measures. In the second, accent and -rhyme gradually take the place of metre within the old verse-forms. The -third is that of the Sequence, wherein the accentual rhyming hymn springs -from the chanted prose, which had superseded the chanting of the final _a_ -of the Alleluia.[280] - - -I - -The lover of classical Greek and Latin poetry knows the beautiful fitness -of the ancient measures for the thought and feeling which they enframed. -If his eyes chance to fall on some twelfth-century Latin hymn, he will be -struck by its different quality. He will quickly perceive that classic -forms would have been unsuited to the Christian and romantic sentiment of -the mediaeval period,[281] and will realize that some vehicle besides -metrical verse would have been needed for this thoroughly declassicized -feeling, even had metrical quantity remained a vital element of language, -instead of passing away some centuries before. Metre was but resuscitation -and convention in the time of Charlemagne. Yet it kept its sway with -scholars, and could not lack votaries so long as classical poetry made -part of the _Ars grammatica_ or was read for delectation. Metrical -composition did not cease throughout the Middle Ages. But it was not the -true mediaeval style, and became obviously academic as accentual verse was -perfected and made fit to carry spiritual emotion. Nevertheless the -simpler metres were cultivated successfully by the best scholars of the -twelfth century. - -Most of the Latin poetry of the Carolingian period was metrical, if we are -to judge from the mass that remains. Reminiscence of the antique enveloped -educated men, with whom the mediaeval spirit had not reached distinctness -of thought and feeling. So the poetry resembled the contemporary sculpture -and painting, in which the antique was still unsuperseded by any new -style. Following the antique metres, using antique phrase and commonplace, -often copying antique sentiment, this poetry was as dull as might be -expected from men who were amused by calling each other Homer, Virgil, -Horace, or David. Usually the poets were ecclesiastics, and interested in -theology;[282] but many of the pieces are conventionally profane in topic, -and as humanistic as the Latin poetry of Petrarch.[283] Moreover, just as -Petrarch's Latin poetry was still-born, while his Italian sonnets live, so -the Carolingian poetry, when it forgets itself and falls away from metre -to accentual verse, gains some degree of life. At this early period the -Romance tongues were not a fit poetic vehicle, and consequently living -thoughts, which with Dante and Petrarch found voice in Italian, in the -ninth century began to stammer in Latin verses that were freed from the -dead rules of quantity, and were already vibrant with a vital feeling for -accent and rhyme.[284] - -Through the tenth century metrical composition became rougher, yet -sometimes drew a certain force from its rudeness. A good example is the -famous _Waltarius_, or _Waltharilied_, of Ekkehart of St. Gall, composed -in the year 960 as a school exercise.[285] The theme was a German story -found in vernacular poetry. Ekkehart's hexameters have a strong Teuton -flavour, and doubtless some of the vigour of his paraphrase was due to the -German original. - -The metrical poems of the eleventh century have been spoken of already, -especially the more interesting ones written in Italy.[286] Most of the -Latin poetry emanating from that classic land was metrical, or so -intended. Frequently it tells the story of wars, or gives the _Gesta_ of -notable lives, making a kind of versified biography. One feels as if verse -was employed as a refuge from the dead annalistic form. This poetry was a -semi-barbarizing of the antique, without new formal or substantial -elements. Italy, one may say, never became essentially and creatively -mediaeval: the pressure of antique survival seems to have barred original -development; Italians took little part in the great mediaeval military -religious movements, the Crusades; no strikingly new architecture arose -with them; their first vernacular poetry was an imitation or a borrowing -from Provence and France; and by far the greater part of their Latin -poetry presents an uncreative barbarizing of the antique metres. - -These remarks find illustration in the principal Latin poems composed in -Italy in the twelfth century. Among them one observes differences in -skill, knowledge, and tendency. Some of the writers made use of leonine -hexameters, others avoided the rhyme. But they were all akin in lack of -excellence and originality both in composition and verse-form. There was -the monk Donizo of Canossa, who wrote the _Vita_ of the great Countess -Matilda;[287] there was William of Apulia, Norman in spirit if not in -blood, who wrote of the Norman conquests in Apulia and Sicily;[288] also -the anonymous and barbarous _De bello et excidio urbis Comensis_, in -which is told the destruction of Como by Milan between 1118 and 1127;[289] -then the metrically jingling Pisan chronicle narrating the conquest of the -island of Majorca, and beginning (like the _Aeneid_!) with - - "Arma, rates, populum vindictam coelitus octam - Scribimus, ac duros terrae pelagique labores."[290] - -We also note Peter of Ebulo, with his narrative in laudation of the -emperor Henry VI., written about 1194; Henry of Septimella and his elegies -upon the checkered fortunes of divers great men;[291] and lastly the more -famous Godfrey of Viterbo, of probable German blood, and notary or scribe -to three successive emperors, with his cantafable _Pantheon_ or _Memoria -saecularum_.[292] Godfrey's poetry is rhymed after a manner of his own. - -In the North, or more specifically speaking in the land of France north of -the Loire, the twelfth century brought better metrical poetry than in -Italy. Yet it had something of the deadness of imitation, since the _vis -vivida_ of song had passed over into rhyming verse. Still from the -academic point of view, metre was the proper vehicle of poetry; as one -sees, for instance, in the _Ars versificatoria_ of Matthew of -Vendome,[293] written toward the close of the twelfth century. "Versus est -metrica descriptio," says he, and then elaborates his, for the most part -borrowed, definition: "Verse is metrical description proceeding concisely -and line by line through the comely marriage of words to flowers of -thought, and containing nothing trivial or irrelevant." A neat conception -this of poetry; and the same writer denounces leonine rhyming as unseemly, -but praises the favourite metre of the Middle Ages, the elegiac; for he -regards the hexameter and pentameter as together forming the perfect -verse. It was in this metre that Hildebert wrote his almost classic elegy -over the ruins of Rome. A few lines have been quoted from it;[294] but the -whole poem, which is not long, is of interest as one of the very best -examples of a mediaeval Latin elegy: - - "Par tibi, Roma, nihil, cum sis prope tota ruina; - Quam magni fueris integra fracta doces. - Longa tuos fastus aetas destruxit, et arces - Caesaris et superum templa palude jacent. - Ille labor, labor ille ruit quem dirus Araxes - Et stantem tremuit et cecidisse dolet; - Quem gladii regum, quem provida cura senatus, - Quem superi rerum constituere caput; - Quem magis optavit cum crimine solus habere - Caesar, quam socius et pius esse socer, - Qui, crescens studiis tribus, hostes, crimen, amicos - Vi domuit, secuit legibus, emit ope; - In quem, dum fieret, vigilavit cura priorum: - Juvit opus pietas hospitis, unda, locus. - Materiem, fabros, expensas axis uterque - Misit, se muris obtulit ipse locus. - Expendere duces thesauros, fata favorem, - Artifices studium, totus et orbis opes. - Urbs cecidit de qua si quicquam dicere dignum - Moliar, hoc potero dicere: Roma fuit. - Non tamen annorum series, non flamma, nec ensis - Ad plenum potuit hoc abolere decus. - Cura hominum potuit tantam componere Romam - Quantam non potuit solvere cura deum. - Confer opes marmorque novum superumque favorem, - Artificum vigilent in nova facta manus, - Non tamen aut fieri par stanti machina muro, - Aut restaurari sola ruina potest. - Tantum restat adhuc, tantum ruit, ut neque pars stans - Aequari possit, diruta nec refici. - Hic superum formas superi mirantur et ipsi, - Et cupiunt fictis vultibus esse pares. - Non potuit natura deos hoc ore creare - Quo miranda deum signa creavit homo. - Vultus adest his numinibus, potiusque coluntur - Artificum studio quam deitate sua. - Urbs felix, si vel dominis urbs illa careret, - Vel dominis esset turpe carere fide."[295] - -The elegiac metre was used by Abaelard in his didactic poem to his son -Astralabius,[296] and by John of Salisbury in his _Entheticus_. The -hexameter also was a favourite measure, used, for instance, by Alanus of -Lille in the _Anticlaudianus_, perhaps the noblest of mediaeval narrative -or allegorical poems in Latin.[297] Another excellent composition in -hexameter was the _Alexandreis_ of Walter, born, like Alanus, apparently -at Lille, but commonly called of Chatillon. As poets and as classical -scholars, these two men were worthy contemporaries. Walter's poem follows, -or rather enlarges upon the _Life of Alexander_ by Quintus Curtius.[298] -He is said to have written it on the challenge of Matthew of Vendome, him -of the _Ars versificatoria_. The _Ligurinus_ of a certain Cistercian -Gunther is still another good example of a long narrative poem in -hexameters. It sets forth the career of Frederick Barbarossa, and was -written shortly after the opening of the thirteenth century. Its author, -like Walter and Alanus, shows himself widely read in the Classics.[299] - -The sapphic was a third not infrequently attempted metre, of which the _De -planctu naturae_ of Alanus contains examples. This work was composed in -the form of the _De consolatione philosophiae_ of Boëthius, where lyrics -alternate with prose. The general topic was Nature's complaint over man's -disobedience to her laws. The author apostrophizes her in the following -sapphics: - - "O Dei proles, genitrixque rerum, - Vinculum mundi, stabilisque nexus, - Gemma terrenis, speculum caducis, - Lucifer orbis. - Pax, amor, virtus, regimen, potestas, - Ordo, lex, finis, via, dux, origo, - Vita, lux, splendor, species, figura - Regula mundi. - Quae tuis mundum moderas habenis, - Cuncta concordi stabilita nodo - Nectis et pacis glutino maritas - Coelica terris. - Quae noys ([Greek: nous]) plures recolens ideas - Singulas rerum species monetans, - Res togas formis, chlamidemque formae - Pollice formas. - Cui favet coelum, famulatur aer, - Quam colit Tellus, veneratur unda, - Cui velut mundi dominae tributum - Singula solvunt. - Quae diem nocti vicibus catenans - Cereum solis tribuis diei, - Lucido lunae speculo soporans - Nubila noctis. - Quae polum stellis variis inauras, - Aetheris nostri solium serenans - Siderum gemmis, varioque coelum - Milite complens. - Quae novis coeli faciem figuris - Protheans mutas aridumque vulgus - Aeris nostri regione donans, - Legeque stringis. - Cujus ad nutum juvenescit orbis, - Silva crispatur folii capillo, - Et tua florum tunicata veste, - Terra superbit. - Quae minas ponti sepelis, et auges, - Syncopans cursum pelagi furori - Ne soli tractum tumulare possit - Aequoris aestus."[300] - -Practically all of our examples have been taken from works composed in the -twelfth century, and in the land comprised under the name of France. The -pre-excellence of this period will likewise appear in accentual rhyming -Latin poetry, which was more spontaneous and living than its loftily -descended relative. - - -II - -The academic vogue of metre in the early Middle Ages did not prevent the -growth of more natural poetry. The Irish had their Gaelic poems; people -of Teutonic speech had their rough verse based on alliteration and the -count of the strong syllables. The Romance tongues emerging from the -common Latin were as yet poetically untried. But in the proper Latin, -which had become as unquantitative and accentual as any of its vulgar -forms, there was a tonic poetry that was no longer unequipped with rhyme. - -Three rhythmic elements made up this natural mode of Latin versification: -the succession of accented and unaccented syllables; the number of -syllables in a line; and that regularly recurring sameness of sound which -is called rhyme. The source of the first of these seems obvious. Accent -having driven quantity from speech, came to supersede it in verse, with -the accented syllable taking the place of the long syllable and the -unaccented the place of the short. In the Carolingian period accentual -verse followed the old metrical forms, with this exception: the metrical -principle that one long is equivalent to two shorts was not adopted. -Consequently the number of syllables in the successive lines of an -accentual strophe would remain the same, where in the metrical antecedent -they might have varied. This is also sufficient to account for the second -element, the observance of regularity in the number of syllables. For this -regularity seems to follow upon the acceptance of the principle that in -rhythmic verse an accented syllable is not equal to two unaccented ones. -The query might perhaps be made why this Latin accentual verse did not -take up the principle of regularity in the number of strong syllables in a -line, like Old High German poetry for example, where the number of -unaccented syllables, within reasonable limits, is indifferent. A ready -answer is that these Latin verses were made by people of Latin speech who -had been acquainted with metrical forms of poetry, in which the number of -syllables might vary, but was never indifferent; for the metrical rule was -rigid that one long was equivalent to two short; and to no more and no -less. Hence the short syllables were as fixed in number as the long.[301] - -The origin of the third element, rhyme, is in dispute. In some instances -it may have passed into Greek and Latin verses from Syrian hymns.[302] But -on the other hand it had long been an occasional element in Greek and -Latin rhetorical prose. Probably rhyme in Latin accentual verse had no -specific origin. It gradually became the sharpening, defining element of -such verse. Accentual Latin lent itself so naturally to rhyme, that had -not rhyme become a fixed part of this verse, there indeed would have been -a fact to explain. - -These, then, were the elements: accent, number of syllables, and rhyme. -Most interesting is the development of verse-forms. Rhythmic Latin poetry -came through the substitution of accent for quantity, and probably had -many prototypes in the old jingles of Roman soldiers and provincials, -which so far as known were accentual, rather than metrical. Christian -accentual poetry retained those simple forms of iambic and trochaic verse -which most readily submitted to the change from metre to accent, or -perhaps one should say, had for centuries offered themselves as natural -forms of accentual verse. Apparently the change from metre to accent -within the old forms gradually took place between the sixth and the tenth -centuries. During this period there was slight advance in the evolution of -new verses; nor was the period creative in other respects, as we have -seen. But thereafter, as the mediaeval centuries advanced from the basis -of a mastered patristic and antique heritage, and began to create, there -followed an admirable evolution of verse-forms: in some instances -apparently issuing from the old metrico-accentual forms, and in others -developing independently by virtue of the faculty of song meeting the need -of singing. - -This factor wrought with power--the human need and cognate faculty of -song, a need and faculty stimulated in the Middle Ages by religious -sentiment and emotion. In the fusing of melody and words into an -utterance of song--at last into a strophe--music worked potently, shaping -the composition of the lines, moulding them to rhythm, insisting upon -sonorousness in the words, promoting their assonance and at last -compelling them to rhyme so as to meet the stress, or mark the ending, of -the musical periods. Thus the exigencies of melody helped to evoke the -finished verse, while the words reciprocating through their vocal -capabilities and through the inspiration of their meaning, aided the -evolution of the melodies. In fine, words and melody, each quickened by -the other, and each moulding the other to itself, attained a perfected -strophic unison; and mediaeval musician-poets achieved at last the -finished verses of hymns or Sequences and student-songs. - -There were two distinct lines of evolution of accentual Latin verse in the -Middle Ages; and although the faculty of song was a moving energy in both, -it worked in one of them more visibly than in the other. Along the one -line accentual verse developed pursuant to the ancient forms, displacing -quantity with accent, and evolving rhyme. The other line of evolution had -no connection with the antique. It began with phrases of sonorous prose, -replacing inarticulate chant. These, under the influence of music, through -the creative power of song, were by degrees transformed to verse. The -evolution of the Sequence-hymn will be the chief illustration. With the -finished accentual Latin poetry of the twelfth century it may become -impossible to tell which line of rhythmic evolution holds the antecedent -of a given poem. In truth, this final and perfected verse may often have a -double ancestry, descending from the rhythms which had superseded metre, -and being also the child of mediaeval melody. Yet there is no difficulty -in tracing by examples the two lines of evolution. - -To illustrate the strain of verse which took its origin in the -displacement of metre by accent and rhyme, we must look back as far as -Fortunatus. He was born about the year 530 in northern Italy, but he -passed his eventful life among Franks and Thuringians. A scholar and also -a poet, he had a fair mastery of metre; yet some of his poems evince the -spirit of the coming mediaeval time both in sentiment and form. He wrote -two famous hymns, one of them in the popular trochaic tetrameter, the -other in the equally simple iambic dimeter. The first, a hymn to the -Cross, begins with the never-to-be-forgotten - - "Pange, lingua, gloriosi proelium certaminis"; - -and has such lines as - - "Crux fidelis, inter omnes arbor una nobilis - - * * * * * - - Dulce lignum, dulce clavo dulce pondus sustinens!" - -In these the mediaeval feeling for the Cross shows itself, and while the -metre is correct, it is so facile that one may read or sing the lines -accentually. In the other hymn, also to the Cross, assonance and rhyme -foretell the coming transformation of metre to accentual verse. Here are -the first two stanzas: - - "Vexilla regis prodeunt, - Fulget crucis mysterium, - Quo carne carnis conditor - Suspensus est patibulo. - - Confixa clavis viscera - Tendens manus, vestigia - Redemtionis gratia - Hic immolata est hostia." - -Passing to the Carolingian epoch, some lines from a poem celebrating the -victory of Charlemagne's son Pippin over the Avars in 796, will illustrate -the popular trochaic tetrameter which had become accentual, and already -tended to rhyme: - - "Multa mala iam fecerunt ab antico tempore, - Fana dei destruxerunt atque monasteria, - Vasa aurea sacrata, argentea, fictilia."[303] - -Next we turn to a piece by the persecuted and interesting Gottschalk, -written in the latter part of the ninth century. A young lad has asked for -a poem. But how can he sing, the exiled and imprisoned monk who might -rather weep as the Jews by the waters of Babylon?[304] yet he will sing a -hymn to the Trinity, and bewail his piteous lot before the highest -pitying Godhead. The verses have a lyric unity of mood, and are touching -with their sad refrain. Their rhyme, if not quite pure, is abundant and -catching, and their nearest metrical affinity would be a trochaic dimeter. - - "1. Ut quid iubes, pusiole, - quare mandas, filiole, - carmen dulce me cantare, - cum sim longe exul valde - intra mare? - o cur iubes canere? - - 2. Magis mihi, miserule, - fiere libet, puerule, - plus plorare quam cantare - carmen tale, iubes quale, - amor care, - o cur iubes canere? - - 3. Mallem scias, pusillule, - ut velles tu, fratercule, - pio corde condolere - mihi atque prona mente - conlugere. - o cur iubes canere? - - 4. Scis, divine tyruncule, - scis, superne clientule, - hic diu me exulare, - multa die sive nocte - tolerare. - o cur iubes canere? - - 5. Scis captive plebicule - Israheli cognomine - praeceptum in Babilone - decantare extra longe - fines Iude. - o cur iubes canere? - - 6. Non potuerunt utique, - nec debuerunt itaque - carmen dulce coram gente - aliene nostri terre - resonare. - o cur iubes canere? - - 7. Sed quia vis omnimode, - consodalis egregie, - canam patri filioque - simul atque procedente - ex utroque. - hoc cano ultronee. - - 8. Benedictus es, domine, - pater, nate, paraclite, - deus trine, deus une, - deus summe, deus pie, - deus iuste. - hoc cano spontanee. - - 9. Exul ego diuscule - hoc in mare sum, domine: - annos nempe duos fere - nosti fore, sed iam iamque - miserere. - hoc rogo humillime. - - 10. Interim cum pusione - psallam ore, psallam mente, - psallam voce (psallam corde), - psallam die, psallam nocte - carmen dulce - tibi, rex piissime."[305] - -Gottschalk (and for this it is hard to love him) was one of the initiators -of the leonine hexameter, in which a syllable in the middle of the line -rhymes with the last syllable. - - "Septeno Augustas decimo praeeunte Kalendas" - -is the opening hexameter in his Epistle to his friend Ratramnus.[306] To -what horrid jingle such verses could attain may be seen from some leonine -hexameter-pentameters of two or three hundred years later, on the Fall of -Troy, beginning: - - "Viribus, arte, minis, Danaum clara Troja ruinis, - Annis bis quinis fit rogus atque cinis."[307] - -Hector and Troy, and the dire wiles of the Greeks never left the mediaeval -imagination. A poem of the early tenth century, which bade the watchers on -Modena's walls be vigilant, draws its inspiration from that unfading -memory, and for us illustrates what iambics might become when accent had -replaced quantity. The lines throughout end in a final rhyming _a_. - - "O tu, qui servas armis ista moenia, - Noli dormire, moneo, sed vigila. - Dum Hector vigil extitit in Troia, - Non eam cepit fraudulenta Graecia."[308] - -And from a scarcely later time, for it also is of the tenth century, rise -those verses to Roma, that old "Roma aurea et eterna," and forever "caput -mundi," sung by pilgrim bands as their eyes caught the first gleam of -tower, church, and ruin: - - "O Roma nobilis, orbis et domina, - Cunctarum urbium excellentissima, - Roseo martyrum sanguine rubea, - Albis et virginum liliis candida: - Salutem dicimus tibi per omnia, - Te benedicimus: salve per secula."[309] - -This verse, which still lifts the heart of whosoever hears or reads it, -may close our examples of mediaeval verses descended from metrical forms. -It will be noticed that all of them are from the early mediaeval -centuries; a circumstance which may be taken as a suggestion of the fact -that by far the greater part of the earlier accentual Latin poetry was -composed in forms in which accent simply had displaced the antique -quantity. - - -III - -We turn to that other genesis of mediaeval Latin verse, arising not out of -antique forms, but rather from the mediaeval need and faculty of song. In -the chief instance selected for illustration, this line of evolution took -its inception in the exigencies and inspiration of the Alleluia chant or -jubilation. During the celebration of the Mass, as the Gradual ended in -its last Alleluia, the choir continued chanting the final syllable of that -word in cadences of musical exultings. The melody or cadence to which this -final _a_ of the Alleluia was chanted, was called the _sequentia_. The -words which came to be substituted for its cadenced reiteration were -called the _prosa_. By the twelfth century the two terms seem to have been -used interchangeably. Thus arose the prose Sequence, so plastic in its -capability of being moulded by melody to verse. Its songful qualities lay -in the sonorousness of the words and in their syllabic correspondence with -the notes of the melody to which they were sung.[310] - -In the year 860, Norsemen sacked the cloister of Jumièges in Normandy, and -a fleeing brother carried his precious Antiphonary far away to the safe -retreat of St. Gall. There a young monk named Notker, poring over its -contents, perceived that words had been written in the place of the -repetitions of the final _a_ of the Alleluia. Taking the cue, he set to -work to compose more fitting words to correspond with the notes to which -this final _a_ was sung. So these lines of euphonious and fitting words -appear to have had their beginning in Notker's scanning of that fugitive -Antiphonary, and his devising labour. Their primary purpose was a musical -one; for they were a device--mnemotechnic, if one will--to facilitate the -chanting of cadences previously vocalized with difficulty through the -singing of one simple vowel sound. Notker showed his work to his master, -Iso, who rejoiced at what his gifted pupil had accomplished, and spurred -him on by pointing out that in his composition one syllable was still -sometimes repeated or drawn out through several successive notes. One -syllable to each note was the principle which Notker now set himself to -realize; and he succeeded. - -He composed some fifty Sequences. In his work, as well as in that of -others after him, the device of words began to modify and develop the -melodies themselves. Sometimes Notker adapted his verbal compositions to -those cadences or melodies to which the Alleluia had long been sung; -sometimes he composed both melody and words; or, again, he took a current -melody, sacred or secular, to which the Alleluia never had been sung, and -composed words for it, to be chanted as a Sequence. In these borrowed -melodies, as well as in those composed by Notker, the musical periods were -more developed than in the Alleluia cadences. Thus the musical growth of -the Sequences was promoted by the use of sonorous words, while the -improved melodies in turn drew the words on to a more perfect rhythmic -ordering. - -Notker died in 912. His Sequences were prose, yet with a certain -parallelism in their construction; and, even with Notker in his later -years, the words began to take on assonances, chiefly in the vowel sound -of _a_. Thereafter the melodies, seizing upon the words, as it were, by -the principle of their syllabic correspondence to the notation, moulded -them to rhythm of movement and regularity of line; while conversely with -the better ordering of the words for singing, the melodies in turn made -gain and progress, and then again reacted on the words, until after two -centuries there emerged the finished verses of an Adam of St. Victor. - -Thus these Sequences have become verse before our eyes, and we realize -that it is the very central current of the evolution of mediaeval Latin -poetry that we have been following. How free and how spontaneous was this -evolution of the Sequence. It was the child of the Christian Middle Ages, -seeing the light in the closing years of the ninth century, but requiring -a long period of growth before it reached the glory of its climacteric. It -was born of musical chanting, and it grew as song, never unsung or -conceived of as severable from its melody. Only as it attained its -perfected strophic forms, it necessarily made use of trochaic and other -rhythms which long before had changed from quantity to accent and so had -passed on into the verse-making habitudes of the Middle Ages.[311] If -there be any Latin composition in virtue of origin and growth absolutely -un-antique, it is the mediaeval Sequence, which in its final forms is so -glorious a representative of the mediaeval Hymn. And we shall also see -that much popular Latin poetry, "Carmina Burana" and student-songs, were -composed in verses and often sung to tunes taken--or parodied--from the -Sequence-hymns of the Liturgy. - -There were many ways of chanting Sequences. The musical phrases of the -melodies usually were repeated once, except at the beginning and the -close; and the Sequence would be rendered by a double choir singing -antiphonally. Ordinarily the words responded to the repetition of the -musical phrases with a parallelism of their own. The lines (after the -first) varied in length by pairs, the second and third lines having the -same number of syllables, the fourth and fifth likewise equal to each -other, but differing in length from the second and third; and so on -through the Sequence, until the last line, which commonly stood alone and -differed in length from the preceding pairs. The Sequence called "Nostra -tuba" is a good example. Probably it was composed by Notker, and in his -later years; for it is filled with assonances, and exhibits a regular -parallelism of structure. - - "Nostra tuba - Regatur fortissime Dei dextra et preces audiat - Aura placatissima et serena; ita enim nostra - Laus erit accepta, voce si quod canimus, canat pariter et pura - conscientia. - Et, ut haec possimus, omnes divina nobis semper flagitemus adesse - auxilia. - - * * * * * - - O bone Rex, pie, juste, misericors, qui es via et janua, - Portas regni, quaesumus, nobis reseres, dimittasque facinora - Ut laudemus nomen nunc tuum atque per cuncta saecula."[312] - -Here, after the opening, the first pair has seventeen syllables, and the -next pair twenty-six. The last pair quoted has twenty; and the final line -of seventeen syllables has no fellow. A further rhythmical advance seems -reached by the following Sequence from the abbey of St. Martial at -Limoges. It may have been written in the eleventh century. It is given -here with the first and second line of the couplets opposite to each -other, as strophe and antistrophe; and the lines themselves are divided to -show the assonances (or rhymes) which appear to have corresponded with -pauses in the melody: - - "(1) Canat omnis turba - - (2a) Fonte renata (2b) Laude jucunda - Spiritusque gratia et mente perspicua - - (3a) Jam restituta (3b) Sicque jactura - pars est decima coelestis illa - fuerat quae culpa completur in laude - perdita. divina. - - (4a) Ecce praeclara (4b) Enitet ampla - dies dominica per orbis spatia, - - (5a) Exsultat in qua (5b) Quia destructa - plebs omnis redempta, mors est perpetua."[313] - -A Sequence of the eleventh century will afford a final illustration of -approach to a regular strophic structure, and of the use of the final -one-syllable rhyme in _a_, throughout the Sequence: - - 1 - - "Alleluia, - Turma, proclama leta; - Laude canora, - Facta prome divina, - Jam instituta - Superna disciplina, - - 2 - - Christi sacra - Per magnalia - Es quia de morte liberata - Ut destructa - Inferni claustra - Januaque celi patefacta! - - 3 - - Jam nunc omnia - Celestia - Terrestria - Virtute gubernat eterna. - In quibus sua - Judicia - Semper equa - Dat auctoritate paterna." - - * * * *[314] - -As the eleventh century closed and the great twelfth century dawned, the -forces of mediaeval growth quickened to a mightier vitality, and -distinctively mediaeval creations appeared. Our eyes, of course, are fixed -upon the northern lands, where the Sequence grew from prose to verse, and -where derivative or analogous forms of popular poetry developed also. Up -to this time, throughout mediaeval life and thought, progress had been -somewhat uncrowned with palpable achievement. Yet the first brilliant -creations of a master-workman are the fruit of his apprentice years, -during which his progress has been as real as when his works begin to make -it visible. So it was no sudden birth of power, but rather faculties -ripening through apprentice centuries, which illumine the period opening -about the year 1100. This period would carry no human teaching if its -accomplishment in institutions, in philosophy, in art and poetry, had been -a heaven-blown accident, and not the fruit of antecedent discipline. - -The poetic advance represented by the Sequences of Adam of St. Victor may -rouse our admiration for the poet's genius, but should not blind our eyes -to the continuity of development leading to it. Adam is the final artist -and his work a veritable creation; yet his antecedents made part of his -creative faculty. The elements of his verses and the general idea and form -of the sequence were given him;--all honour to the man's holy genius which -made these into poems. The elements referred to consisted in accentual -measures and in the two-syllabled Latin rhyme which appears to have been -finally achieved by the close of the eleventh century.[315] In using them -Adam was no borrower, but an artist who perforce worked in the medium of -his art. Trochaic and iambic rhythms then constituted the chief measures -for accentual verse, as they had for centuries, and do still. For, -although accentual rhythms admit dactyls and anapaests, these have not -proved generally serviceable. Likewise the inevitable progress of Latin -verse had developed assonances into rhymes; and indeed into rhymes of two -syllables, for Latin words lend themselves as readily to rhymes of two -syllables as English words to rhymes of one. - -There existed also the idea and form of the Sequence, consisting of pairs -of lines which had reached assonance and some degree of rhythm, and varied -in length, pair by pair, following the music of the melodies to which they -were sung. For the Sequence-melody did not keep to the same recurring tune -throughout, but varied from couplet to couplet. In consequence, a Sequence -by Adam of St. Victor may contain a variety of verse-forms. Moreover, a -number of the Sequences of which he may have been the author show -survivals of the old rhythmical irregularities, and of assonance as yet -unsuperseded by pure rhyme. - -Before giving examples of Adam's poems, a tribute should be paid to his -great forerunner in the art of Latin verse. Adam doubtless was familiar -with the hymns[316] of the most brilliant intellectual luminary of the -departing generation, one Peter Abaelard, whom he may have seen in the -flesh. Those once famous love-songs, written for Heloïse, perished (so far -as we know) with the love they sang. Another fate--and perhaps Abaelard -wished it so--was in store for the many hymns which he wrote for his -sisters in Christ, the abbess and her nuns. They still exist,[317] and -display a richness of verse-forms scarcely equalled even by the Sequences -of Adam. In the development of Latin verse, Abaelard is Adam's immediate -predecessor; his verses being, as it were, just one stage inferior to -Adam's in sonorousness of line, in certainty of rhythm, and in purity of -rhyme. - -The "prose" Sequences were not the direct antecedents of Abaelard's hymns. -Yet both sprang from the freely devising spirit of melody and song; and -therefore those hymns are of this free-born lineage more truly than they -are descendants of antique forms. To be sure, every possible accentual -rhythm, built as it must be of trochees, iambics, anapaests, or dactyls, -has unavoidably some antique quantitative antecedent; because the antique -measures exhausted the possibilities of syllabic combination. Yet -antecedence is not source, and most of Abaelard's verses by their form and -spirit proclaim their genesis in the creative exigencies of song as loudly -as they disavow any antique parentage. - -For example, there may be some far echo of metrical asclepiads in the -following accentual and rhyme-harnessed twelve-syllable verse: - - "Advenit veritas, umbra praeteriit, - Post noctem claritas diei subiit, - Ad ortum rutilant superni luminis - Legis mysteria plena caliginis." - -But the echo if audible is faint, and surely no antique whisper is heard -in - - "Est in Rama - Vox audita - Rachel flentis - Super natos - Interfectos - Ejulantis." - -Nor in - - "Golias prostratus est, - Resurrexit Dominus, - Ense jugulatus est - Hostis proprio; - Cum suis submersus est - Ille Pharao." - -The variety of Abaelard's verse seems endless. One or two further examples -may or may not suggest any antecedents in those older forms of accentual -verse which followed the former metres: - - "Ornarunt terram germina, - Nunc caelum luminaria. - Sole, luna, stellis depingitur, - Quorum multus usus cognoscitur." - -In this verse the first two lines are accentual iambic dimeters; while the -last two begin each with two trochees, and close apparently with two -dactyls. The last form of line is kept throughout in the following: - - "Gaude virgo virginum gloria, - Matrum decus et mater, jubila, - Quae commune sanctorum omnium - Meruisti conferre gaudium." - -Next come some simple five-syllable lines, with a catching rhyme: - - "Lignum amaras - Indulcat aquas - Eis immissum. - Omnes agones - Sunt sanctis dulces - Per crucifixum." - -In the following lines of ten syllables a dactyl appears to follow a -trochee twice in each line: - - "Tuba Domini, Paule, maxima, - De caelestibus dans tonitrua, - Hostes dissipans, cives aggrega. - - Doctor gentium es praecipuus, - Vas in poculum factus omnibus, - Sapientiae plenum haustibus." - -These examples of Abaelard's rhythms may close with the following -curiously complicated verse: - - "Tu quae carnem edomet - Abstinentiam, - Tu quae carnem decoret - Continentiam, - Tu velle quod bonum est his ingeris - Ac ipsum perficere tu tribuis. - Instrumenta - Sunt his tua - Per quos mira peragis, - Et humana - Moves corda - Signis et prodigiis." - -In general, one observes in these verses that Abaelard does not use a pure -two-syllable rhyme. The rhyme is always pure in the last syllable, and in -the penult may either exist as a pure rhyme or simply as an assonance, or -not at all.[318] - -Probably Abaelard wrote his hymns in 1130, perhaps the very year when Adam -as a youth entered the convent of St. Victor, lying across the Seine from -Paris. The latter appears to have lived until 1192. Many Sequences have -been improperly ascribed to him, and among the doubtful ones are a number -having affinities with the older types. These may be anterior to Adam; for -the greater part of his unquestionable Sequences are perfected throughout -in their versification. Yet, on the other hand, one would expect some -progression in works composed in the course of a long life devoted to -such composition--a life covering a period when progressive changes were -taking place in the world of thought beyond St. Victor's walls. We take -three examples of these Sequences. The first contains occasional assonance -in place of rhyme, and uses many rhymes of one syllable. It appears to be -an older composition improperly ascribed to Adam. The second is -unquestionably his, in his most perfect form; the third may or may not be -Adam's; but is given for its own sake as a lovely lyric.[319] - -The first example, probably written not much later than the year 1100, was -designed for the Mass at the dedication of a church. The variety in the -succession of couplets and strophes indicates a corresponding variation in -the melody. - - 1 - - "Clara chorus dulce pangat voce nunc alleluia, - Ad aeterni regis laudem qui gubernat omnia! - - 2 - - Cui nos universalis sociat Ecclesia, - Scala nitens et pertingens ad poli fastigia; - - 3 - - Ad honorem cujus laeta psallamus melodia, - Persolventes hodiernas laudes illi debitas. - - 4 - - O felix aula, quam vicissim - Confrequentant agmina coelica, - Divinis verbis alternatim - Jungentia mellea cantica! - - 5 - - Domus haec, de qua vetusta sonuit historia - Et moderna protestatur Christum fari pagina: - 'Quoniam elegi eam thronum sine macula, - 'Requies haec erit mea per aeterna saecula. - - 6 - - Turris supra montem sita, - Indissolubili bitumine fundata - Vallo perenni munita, - Atque aurea columna - Miris ac variis lapidibus distincta, - Stylo subtili polita! - - 7 - - Ave, mater praeelecta, - Ad quam Christus fatur ita - Prophetae facundia: - 'Sponsa mea speciosa, - 'Inter filias formosa, - 'Supra solem splendida! - - 8 - - 'Caput tuum ut Carmelus - 'Et ipsius comae tinctae regis uti purpura; - 'Oculi ut columbarum, - 'Genae tuae punicorum ceu malorum fragmina! - - 9 - - 'Mel et lac sub lingua tua, favus stillans labia; - 'Collum tuum ut columna, turris et eburnea!' - - 10 - - Ergo nobis Sponsae tuae - Famulantibus, o Christe, pietate solita - Clemens adesse dignare - Et in tuo salutari nos ubique visita. - - 11 - - Ipsaque mediatrice, summe rex, perpetue, - Voce pura - Flagitamus, da gaudere Paradisi gloria. - Alleluia!"[320] - -The second example is Adam's famous Sequence for St. Stephen's Day, which -falls on the day after Christmas. It is throughout sustained and perfect -in versification, and in substance a splendid hymn of praise. - - 1 - - "Heri mundus exultavit - Et exultans celebravit - Christi natalitia; - Heri chorus angelorum - Prosecutus est coelorum - Regem cum laetitia. - - 2 - - Protomartyr et levita, - Clarus fide, clarus vita, - Clarus et miraculis, - Sub hac luce triumphavit - Et triumphans insultavit - Stephanus incredulis. - - 3 - - Fremunt ergo tanquam ferae - Quia victi defecere - Lucis adversarii: - Falsos testes statuunt, - Et linguas exacuunt - Viperarum filii. - - 4 - - Agonista, nulli cede, - Certa certus de mercede, - Persevera, Stephane; - Insta falsis testibus, - Confuta sermonibus - Synagogam Satanae. - - 5 - - Testis tuus est in coelis, - Testis verax et fidelis, - Testis innocentiae. - Nomen habes coronati: - Te tormenta decet pati - Pro corona gloriae. - - 6 - - Pro corona non marcenti - Perfer brevis vim tormenti; - Te manet victoria. - Tibi fiet mors natalis, - Tibi poena terminalis - Dat vitae primordia. - - 7 - - Plenus Sancto Spiritu, - Penetrat intuitu - Stephanus coelestia. - Videns Dei gloriam, - Crescit ad victoriam, - Suspirat ad praemia. - - 8 - - En a dextris Dei stantem, - Jesum pro te dimicantem, - Stephane, considera: - Tibi coelos reserari, - Tibi Christum revelari, - Clama voce libera. - - 9 - - Se commendat Salvatori, - Pro quo dulce ducit mori - Sub ipsis lapidibus. - Saulus servat omnium - Vestes lapidantium, - Lapidans in omnibus. - - 10 - - Ne peccatum statuatur - His a quibus lapidatur, - Genu ponit, et precatur, - Condolens insaniae. - In Christo sic obdormivit, - Qui Christo sic obedivit, - Et cum Christo semper vivit, - Martyrum primitiae." - - * * * *[321] - - -The last example, in honour of St. Nicholas's Day, is a lovely poem by -whomsoever written. Its verses are extremely diversified. It begins with -somewhat formal chanting of the saint's virtues, in dignified couplets. -Suddenly it changes to a joyful lyric, and sings of a certain sweet -sea-miracle wrought by Nicholas. Then it spiritualizes the conception of -his saintly aid to meet the call of the sin-tossed soul. It closes in -stately manner in harmony with its liturgical function. - - 1 - - "Congaudentes exultemus vocali concordia - Ad beati Nicolai festiva solemnia! - - 2 - - Qui in cunis adhuc jacens servando jejunia - A papilla coepit summa promereri gaudia. - - 3 - - Adolescens amplexatur litterarum studia, - Alienus et immunis ab omni lascivia. - - 4 - - Felix confessor, cujus fuit dignitatis vox de coelo nuntia! - Per quam provectus, praesulatus sublimatur ad summa fastigia. - - 5 - - Erat in ejus animo pietas eximia, - Et oppressis impendebat multa beneficia. - - 6 - - Auro per eum virginum tollitur infamia, - Atque patris earumdem levatur inopia. - - 7 - - Quidam nautae navigantes, - Et contra fluctuum saevitiam luctantes, - Navi pene dissoluta, - Jam de vita desperantes, - In tanto positi periculo, clamantes - Voce dicunt omnes una: - - 8 - - 'O beate Nicolae, - Nos ad maris portum trahe - De mortis angustia. - Trahe nos ad portum maris, - Tu qui tot auxiliaris, - Pietatis gratia.' - - 9 - - Dum clamarent, nec incassum, - 'Ecce' quidam dicens, 'assum - Ad vestra praesidia.' - Statim aura datur grata - Et tempestas fit sedata: - Quieverunt maria. - - 10 - - Nos, qui sumus in hoc mundo, - Vitiorum in profundo - Jam passi naufragia, - Gloriose Nicolae - Ad salutis portum trahe, - Ubi pax et gloria. - - 11 - - Illam nobis unctionem - Impetres ad Dominum, - Prece pia, - Qua sanavit laesionem - Multorum peccaminum - In Maria. - - 12 - - Hujus festum celebrantes gaudeant per saecula, - Et coronet eos Christus post vitae curricula!"[322] - -The foregoing examples of religious poetry may be supplemented by -illustrations of the parallel evolution of more profane if not more -popular verse. Any priority in time, as between the two, should lie with -the former; though it may be the truer view to find a general synchronism -in the secular and religious phases of lyric growth. But priority of -originality and creativeness certainly belongs to that line of lyric -evolution which sprang from religious sentiments and emotions. For the -vagrant clerkly poet of the Court, the roadside, and the inn, used the -forms of verse fashioned by the religious muse in the cloister and the -school. Thus the development of secular Latin verse presents a derivative -parallel to the essentially primary evolution of the Sequence or the hymn. - -It was in Germany that the composition of Sequences was most zealously -cultivated during the century following Notker's death; and it was in -Germany that the Sequence, in its earlier forms, exerted most palpable -influence upon popular songs.[323] In these so-called Modi (_Modus_ == -song), as in the Sequence, rhythmical compositions may be seen progressing -in the direction of regular rhythm, rhyme, and strophic form. As in the -Sequences, the tune moulded the words, which in turn influenced the -melody. The following is from the _Modus Ottinc_, a popular song composed -about the year 1000 in honour of a victory of Otto III. over the -Hungarians: - - "His incensi bella fremunt, arma poscunt, hostes vocant, signa secuntur, - tubis canunt. - Clamor passim oritur et milibus centum Theutones inmiscentur. - - Pauci cedunt, plures cadunt, Francus instat, Parthus fugit; vulgus - exangue undis obstat; - Licus rubens sanguine Danubio cladem Parthicam ostendebat." - -Another example is the _Modus florum_ of approximately the same period, a -song about a king who promised his daughter to whoever could tell such a -lie as to force the king to call him a liar. It opens as follows: - - "Mendosam quam cantilenam ago, - puerulis commendatam dabo, - quo modulos per mendaces risum - auditoribus ingentem ferant. - - Liberalis et decora - cuidam regi erat nata - quam sub lege hujusmodi - procis opponit quaerendam." - - * * * *[324] - - -Here the rhyme still is rude and the rhythm irregular. The following -dirge, written thirty or forty years later on the death of the German -emperor, Henry II., shows improvement: - - "Lamentemur nostra, Socii, peccata, - amentemur et ploremus! Quare tacemus? - Pro iniquitate corruimus late; - scimus coeli hinc offensum regem immensum. - Heinrico requiem, rex Christe, dona perennem."[325] - -We may pass on into the twelfth century, still following the traces of -that development of popular verse which paralleled the evolution of the -Sequence. We first note some catchy rhymes of a German student setting -out for Paris in quest of learning and intellectual novelty: - - "Hospita in Gallia nunc me vocant studia. - Vadam ergo; flens a tergo socios relinquo. - Plangite discipuli, lugubris discidii tempore propinquo. - Vale, dulcis patria, suavis Suevorum Suevia! - Salve dilecta Francia, philosophorum curia! - Suscipe discipulum in te peregrinum, - Quem post dierum circulum remittes Socratinum."[326] - -This Suabian, singing his uncouth Latin rhymes, and footing his way to -Paris, suggests the common, delocalized influences which were developing a -mass of student-songs, "Carmina Burana," or "Goliardic" poetry. The -authors belonged to that large and broad class of _clerks_ made up of any -and all persons who knew Latin. The songs circulated through western -Europe, and their home was everywhere, if not their origin. Some of them -betray, as more of them do not, the author's land and race. Frequently of -diabolic cleverness, gibing, amorous, convivial, they show the virtuosity -in rhyme of their many makers. Like the hymns and later Sequences, they -employed of necessity those accentual measures which once had their -quantitative prototypes in antique metres. But, again like the hymns and -Sequences, they neither imitate nor borrow, but make use of trochaic, -iambic, or other rhythms as the natural and unavoidable material of verse. -Their strophes are new strophes, and not imitations of anything in -quantitative poetry. So these songs were free-born, and their development -was as independent of antique influence as the melodies which ever moulded -them to more perfect music. Many and divers were their measures. But as -that great strophe of Adam's _Heri mundus exultavit_ (the strophe of the -_Stabat Mater_) was of mightiest dominance among the hymns, so for these -student-songs there was also one measure that was chief. This was the -thirteen-syllable trochaic line, with its lilting change of stress after -the seventh syllable, and its pure two-syllable rhyme. It is the line of -the _Confessio poetae_, or _Confessio Goliae_, where nests that one -mediaeval Latin verse which everybody still knows by heart: - - "Meum est propositum in taberna mori, - Vinum sit appositum morientis ori, - Tunc cantabunt laetius angelorum chori, - 'Sit Deus propitius huic potatori.'" - -It is also the line of the quite charming Phyllis and Flora of the -_Carmina Burana_: - - "Erant ambae virgines et ambae reginae, - Phyllis coma libera, Flora compto crine: - Non sunt formae virginum, sed formae divinae, - Et respondent facie luci matutinae."[327] - -Another common measure is the twelve-syllable dactylic line of the famous -_Apocalypsis Goliae Episcopi_: - - "Ipsam Pythagorae formam aspicio, - Inscriptam artium schemate vario. - An extra corpus sit haec revelatio, - Utrum in corpore, Deus scit, nescio. - In fronte micuit ars astrologica; - Dentium seriem regit grammatica; - In lingua pulcrius vernat rhetorica, - Concussis aestuat in labiis logica." - -An example of the not infrequent eight-syllable line is afforded by that -tremendous satire against papal Rome, beginning: - - "Propter Sion non tacebo, - Sed ruinam Romae flebo, - Quousque justitia - Rursus nobis oriatur, - Et ut lampas accendatur - Justus in ecclesia." - -Here the last line of the verse has but seven syllables, as is the case in -the following verse of four lines: - - "Vinum bonum et suave, - Bonis bonum, pravis prave, - Cunctis dulcis sapor, ave, - Mundana laetitia!" - -But the eight-syllable lines may be kept throughout, as in the following -lament over life's lovely, pernicious charm, so touching in its expression -of the mortal heartbreak of mediaeval monasticism: - - "Heu! Heu! mundi vita, - Quare me delectas ita? - Cum non possis mecum stare, - Quid me cogis te amare? - - * * * * - - Vita mundi, res morbosa, - Magis fragilis quam rosa, - Cum sis tota lacrymosa, - Cur es mihi graciosa?"[328] - - -IV - -Our consideration of the different styles of mediaeval Latin prose and the -many novel forms of mediaeval Latin verse has shown how radical was the -departure of the one and the other from Cicero and Virgil. Through such -changes Latin continued to prove itself a living language. Yet its -vitality was doomed to wane before the rivalry of the vernacular tongues. -The _vivida vis_, the capability of growth, had well-nigh passed from -Latin when Petrarch was born. In endeavouring to maintain its supremacy as -a literary vehicle he was to hold a losing brief, nor did he strengthen -his cause by attempting to resuscitate a classic style of prose and metre. -The victory of the vernacular was announced in Dante's _De vulgari -eloquentia_ and demonstrated beyond dispute in his _Divina Commedia_. - -A long and for the most part peaceful and unconscious conflict had led up -to the victory of what might have been deemed the baser side. For Latin -was the sole mediaeval literature that was born in the purple, with its -stately lineage of the patristic and the classical back of it. Latin was -the language of the Roman world and the vehicle of Latin Christianity. It -was the language of the Church and its clergy, and the language of all -educated people. Naturally the entire contents of existing and -progressive Christian and antique culture were contained in the mediaeval -Latin literature, the literature of religion and of law and government, of -education and of all serious knowledge. It was to be the primary -literature of mediaeval thought; from which passed over the chief part of -whatever thought and knowledge the vernacular literatures were to receive. -For scholars who follow, as we have tried to, the intellectual and the -deeper emotional life of the Middle Ages, the Latin literature yields the -incomparably greater part of the material of our study. It has been our -home country, from which we have made casual excursions into the -vernacular literatures. - -These existed, however, from the earliest mediaeval periods, beginning, if -one may say so, in oral rather than written documents. We read that -Charlemagne caused a book to be made of Germanic poems, which till then -presumably had been carried in men's memories. The _Hildebrandslied_ is -supposed to have been one of them.[329] In the Norse lands, the Eddas and -the matter of the Sagas were repeated from generation to generation, long -before they were written down. The habit, if not the art, of writing came -with Christianity and the Latin education accompanying it. Gradually a -written literature in the Teutonic languages was accumulated. Of this -there was the heathen side, well represented in Anglo-Saxon and the Norse; -while in Old High German the _Hildebrandslied_ remains, heathen and -savage. Thereafter, a popular and even national or rather racial poetry -continued, developed, and grew large, notwithstanding the spread of Latin -Christianity through Teutonic lands. Of this the _Niebelungenlied_ and the -_Gudrun_ are great examples. But individual still famous poets, who felt -and thought as Germans, were also composing sturdily in their -vernacular--a lack of education possibly causing them to dictate -(_dictieren_, _dichten_) rather than to write. Of these the greatest were -Wolfram von Eschenbach and Walther von der Vogelweide. With them and after -them, or following upon the _Niebelungenlied_, came a mass of secular -poetry, some of which was popular and national, reflecting Germanic -story, while some of it was courtly, transcribing the courtly poetry which -by the twelfth century flourished in Old French. - -Thus bourgeoned the secular branches of German literature. On the other -hand, from the time of Christianity's introduction, the Germans felt the -need to have the new religion presented to them in their own tongues. The -labour of translation begins with Ulfilas, and is continued with -conscientious renderings of Scripture and Latin educational treatises, and -also with such epic paraphrase as the _Heliand_ and the more elegiac poems -of the Anglo-Saxon Cynewulf.[330] Also, at least in Germany, there comes -into existence a full religious literature, not stoled or mitred, but -popular, non-academic, and non-liturgical; of which quantities remain in -the Middle High German of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.[331] - -Obviously the Romance vernacular literatures had a different commencement. -The languages were Latin, simply Latin, in their inception, and never -ceased to be legitimate continuations and developments of the popular or -Vulgar Latin of the Roman Empire. But as the speech of children, women, -and unlettered people, they were not thought of as literary media. All who -could write understood perfectly the better Latin from which these popular -dialects were slowly differentiating themselves. And as they progressed to -languages, still their life and progress lay among peoples whose ancestral -tongue was the proper Latin, which all educated men and women still -understood and used in the serious business of life. - -But sooner or later men will talk and sing and think and compose in the -speech which is closest to them. The Romance tongues became literary -through this human need of natural expression. There always had been songs -in the old Vulgar Latin; and such did not cease as it gradually became -what one may call Romance. Moreover, the clergy might be impelled to use -the popular speech in preaching to the laity, or some unlearned person -might compose religious verses. Almost the oldest monument of Old French -is the hymn in honour of Ste. Eulalie. Then as civilization advanced from -the tenth to the twelfth century, in southern and northern France for -example, and the _langue d'oc_ and the _langue d'oil_ became independent -and developed languages, unlearned men, or men with unlearned audiences, -would unavoidably set themselves to composing poetry in these tongues. In -the North the _chansons de geste_ came into existence; in the South the -knightly Troubadours made love-lyrics. Somehow, these poems were written -down, and there was literature for men's eyes as well as for men's ears. - -In the twelfth century and the thirteenth, the audiences for Romance -poetry, especially through the regions of southern and northern France, -increased and became diversified. They were made up of all classes, save -the brute serf, and of both sexes. The _chansons de geste_ met the taste -of the feudal barons; the Arthurian Cycle charmed the feudal dames; the -coarse _fabliaux_ pleased the bourgeoisie; and _chansons_ of all kinds -might be found diverting by various people. If the religious side was less -strongly represented, it was because the closeness of the language to the -clerkly and liturgical Latin left no such need of translations as was felt -from the beginning among peoples of Germanic speech. Still the Gospels, -especially the apocryphal, were put into Old French, and _miracles de -Notre Dame_ without number; also legends of the saints, and devout tales -of many kinds. - -The accentual verses of the Romance tongues had their source in the -popular accentual Latin verse of the later Roman period. Their development -was not unrelated to the Latin accentual verse which was superseding -metrical composition in the centuries extending, one may say, from the -fifth to the eleventh. Divergences between the Latin and Romance verse -would be caused by the linguistic evolution through which the Romance -tongues were becoming independent languages. Nor was this divergence -uninfluenced by the fact that Romance poetry was popular and usually -concerned with topics of this life, while Latin poetry in the most -striking lines of its evolution was liturgical; and even when secular in -topic tended to become learned, since it was the product of the -academically educated classes. Much of the vernacular (Romance as well as -Germanic) poetry in the Middle Ages was composed by unlearned men who had -at most but a speaking acquaintance with Latin, and knew little of the -antique literature. This was true, generally, of the Troubadours of -Provence, of the authors of the Old French _chansons de geste_, and of -such a courtly poet as Chrétien de Troies; true likewise of the great -German Minnesingers, epic poets rather, Gottfried von Strassburg, Wolfram -von Eschenbach, and Walther von der Vogelweide. - -On the other hand, vernacular poetry might be written by highly learned -men, of whom the towering though late example would be Dante Alighieri. An -instance somewhat nearer to us at present is Jean Clopinel or de Meun, the -author of the second part of the _Roman de la rose_. His extraordinary -Voltairean production embodies all the learning of the time; and its -scholar-author was a man of genius, who incorporated his learning and the -fruit thereof very organically in his poem. - -But here, at the close of our consideration of the mediaeval appreciation -of the Classics, and the relations between the Classics and mediaeval -Latin literature, we are not occupied with the very loose and general -question of the amount of classical learning to be found in the vernacular -literatures of western Europe. That was a casual matter depending on the -education and learning, or lack thereof, of the author of the given piece. -But it may be profitable to glance at the passing over of antique themes -of story into mediaeval vernacular literature, and the manner of their -refashioning. This is a huge subject, but we shall not go into it deeply, -or pursue the various antique themes through their endless propagations. - -Antique stories aroused and pointed the mediaeval imagination; they made -part of the never-absent antique influence which helped to bring the -mediaeval peoples on and evoke in them an articulate power to fashion and -create all kinds of mediaeval things. But with antique story as with other -antique material, the Middle Ages had to turn it over and absorb it, and -also had to become themselves with power, before they could refashion the -antique theme or create along its lines. All this had taken place by the -middle of the twelfth century. As to choice of matter, twelfth-century -refashioners would either select an antique theme suited to their -handling, or extract what appealed to them from some classic story. In the -one case as in the other they might recast, enlarge, or invent as their -faculties permitted. - -Mediaeval taste took naturally to the degenerate productions of the late -antique or transition centuries. The Greek novels seem to have been -unknown, except the _Apollonius of Tyre_.[332] But the congenially -preposterous story of Alexander by the Pseudo-Callisthenes was available -in a sixth-century Latin version, and was made much of. Equally popular -was the debasement and intentional distortion of the Tale of Troy in the -work of "Dares" and "Dictys"; other tales were aptly presented in Ovid's -_Metamorphoses_; and the stories of Hero and Leander, of Pyramus and -Thisbe, of Narcissus, Orpheus, Cadmus, Daedalus, were widely known and -often told in the Middle Ages. - -The mediaeval writers made as if they believed these tales. At least they -accepted them as they would have their own audiences accept their -recasting, with little reflection as to whether truth or fable. But was -the work of the refashioners conscious fiction? Scarcely, when it simply -recast the old story in mediaevalizing paraphrase; but when the poet went -on and wove out of ten lines a thousand, he must have known himself -devising. - -The mediaeval treatment of classic themes of history and epic poetry shows -how the Middle Ages refashioned and reinspired after their own image -whatever they took from the antique. If it was partly their fault, it was -also their unavoidable misfortune that they received these great themes in -the literary distortions of the transition centuries. Doubtless they -preferred encyclopaedic dulness to epic unity; they loved fantasy rather -than history, and of course delighted in the preposterous, as they found -it in the Latin version of the _Life and Deeds of Alexander_. As for the -Tale of Troy, the real Homer never reached them: and perhaps mediaeval -peoples who were pleased, like Virgil's Romans, to draw their origins from -Trojan heroes, would have rejected Homer's story just as "Dares" and -"Dictys," whoever they were, did.[333] The true mediaeval _rifacimenti_, -to wit, the retellings of these tales in the vernacular, mirror the -mediaeval mind, the mediaeval character, and the whole panorama of -mediaeval life and fantasy. - -The chief epic themes drawn from the antique were the Tales of Troy and -Thebes and the story of Aeneas. In verse and prose they were retold in the -vernacular literatures and also in mediaeval Latin.[334] We shall, -however, limit our view to the primary Old French versions, which formed -the basis of compositions in German, Italian, English, as well as French. -They were composed between 1150 and 1170 by Norman-French _trouvères_. The -names of the authors of the _Roman de Thebes_ and the _Eneas_ are unknown; -the _Roman de Troie_ was written by Benoit de St. More. - -These poems present a universal substitution of mediaeval manners and -sentiment. For instance, one observes that the epic participation of the -pagan gods is minimized, and in the _Roman de Troie_ even discarded; -necromancy, on the other hand, abounds. A more interesting change is the -transformation of the love episode. That had become an epic adjunct in -Alexandrian Greek literature as early as the third century before Christ. -It existed in the antique sources of all these mediaeval poems. -Nevertheless the romantic narratives of courtly love in the latter are -mediaeval creations. - -The _Eneas_ relates the love of Lavinia for the hero, most correctly -reciprocated by him. The account of it fills fourteen hundred lines, and -has no precedent in Virgil's poem, which in other respects is followed -closely. Lavinia sees Aeneas from her tower, and at once understands a -previous discourse of her mother on the subject of love. She utters love's -plaints, and then faints because Aeneas does not seem to notice her. After -which she passes a sleepless night. The next morning she tells her mother, -who is furious, since she favours Turnus as a suitor. The girl falls -senseless, but coming to herself when alone, she recalls love's -stratagems, and attaches a letter to an arrow which is shot so as to fall -at Aeneas's feet. Aeneas reads the letter, and turns and salutes the fair -one furtively, that his followers may not see. Then he enters his tent and -falls so sick with love that he takes to his bed. The next day Lavinia -watches for him, and thinks him false, till at last, pale and feeble, he -appears, and her heart acquits him; amorous glances now fly back and forth -between them.[335] - -To have this jaded jilt grow sick with love is a little too much for us, -and Aeneas is absurd; but the universal human touches us quite otherwise -in the sweet changing heart of Briseida in the _Roman de Troie_. There is -no ground for denying to Benoit of St. More his meed of fame for creating -this charming person and starting her upon her career. Following "Dares," -Benoit calls her Briseida; but she becomes the Griseis of Boccaccio's -_Filostrato_; and what good man does not sigh and love her under the name -of Cressid in Chaucer's poem, though he may deplore her somewhat brazen -heartlessness in Shakespeare's play. - -It is not given to all men, or women, in presence or absence, in life and -death, to love once and forever. One has the stable heart, another's -fancy is quickly turned. Sometimes, of course, our moral sledge-hammers -should be brought to bear; but a little hopeless smile may be juster, as -we sigh "she (it is more often "he") couldn't help it." Such was Briseida, -the sweet, loving, helpless--coquette? jilt? flirt? these words are all -too belittling to tell her truly. Benoit knew better. He took her -dry-as-dust characterization from "Dares"; he gave it life, and then let -his fair creature do just the things she might, without ceasing to be she. - -The abject "Dares" (Benoit may have had a better story under that name) in -his catalogue of characters has this: "Briseidam formosam, alta statura, -candidam, capillo flavo et molli, superciliis junctis, oculis venustis, -corpore aequali, blandam, affabilem, verecundam, animo simplici [O ye -gods!], piam." He makes no other mention of this tall, graceful girl, with -her lovely eyes and eyebrows meeting above, her modest, pleasant mien, and -simple soul; for simple she was, and therein lies the direst bit of truth -about her. For it is simple and uncomplex to take the colour of new scenes -and faces, and of new proffered love when the old is far away. - -Now see what Benoit does with this dust: Briseida is the daughter of -Calchas, a Trojan seer who had passed over to the Greeks, warned by -Apollo. He is in the Grecian host, but his daughter is in Troy. Benoit -says, she was engaging, lovelier and fairer than the _fleur de -lis_--though her eyebrows grew rather too close together. "Beaux yeux" she -had, "de grande manière," and charming was her talk, and faultless her -breeding as her dress. Much was she loved and much she loved, although her -heart changed; and she was very loving, simple, and kind: - - "Molt fu amée et molt ameit, - Mes sis corages li changeit; - Et si esteit molt amorose, - Simple et almosniere et pitose."[336] - -Calchas wants his daughter, and Priam decides to send her. There is truce -between the armies. Troilus, Troy's glorious young knight, matchless in -beauty, in arms second only to his brother Hector, is beside himself. He -loves Briseida, and she him. What tears and protestations, and what vows! -But the girl must go to her father. - -On the morrow the young dame has other cares--to see to the packing of her -lovely dresses and put on the loveliest of them; over all she threw a -mantle inwoven with the flowers of Paradise. The Trojan ladies add their -tears to the damsel's; for she is ready to die of grief at leaving her -lover. Benoit assures us that she will not weep long; it is not woman's -way, he continues somewhat mediaevally. - -The brilliant cortège is met by one still more distinguished from the -Grecian host. Troilus must turn back, and the lady passes to the escort of -Diomede. She was young; he was impetuous; he looks once, and then greets -her with a torrential declaration of love. He never loved before!! He is -hers, body and soul and high emprize. Briseida speaks him fair: - - "At this time it would be wrong for me to say a word of love. You - would deem me light indeed! Why, I hardly know you! and girls so often - are deceived by men. What you have said cannot move a heart grieving, - like mine, to lose my--friend, and others whom I may never see again. - For one of my station to speak to you of love! I have no mind for - that. Yet you seem of such rank and prowess that no girl under heaven - ought to refuse you. It is only that I have no heart to give. If I - had, surely I could hold none dearer than you. But I have neither the - thought nor power, and may God never give it to me!"[337] - -One need not tell the flash of joy that then was Diomede's, nor the many -troubles that were to be his before at last Briseida finds that her heart -has indeed turned to this new lover, always at hand, courting danger for -her sake, and at last wounded almost to death by Troilus's spear. The end -of the story is assured in her first discreetly halting words. - -Enough has been said to show how far Benoit was from _Omers qui fu clers -merveillos_, and what a story in some thirty thousand lines he has made of -the dry data of "Dares" and "Dictys." His Briseida, with her changing -heart, was to rival steadier-minded but not more lovable women of -mediaeval fiction--Iseult or Guinevere. And although the far-off echo of -Briseid's name comes from the ancient centuries, none the less she is as -entirely a mediaeval creation as Lancelot's or Tristram's queen. Thus the -Middle Ages took the antique narrative, and created for themselves within -the altered lines of the old tale.[338] - -The transformation of themes of epic story in vernacular mediaeval -versions is paralleled by mediaeval refashionings of historical subjects -which had been fictionized before the antique period closed. A chief -example is the romance of Alexander the Great. The antique source was the -conqueror's _Life and Deeds_, written by one who took the name of -Alexander's physician, Callisthenes. The author was some Egyptian Greek of -the first century after Christ. His work is preposterous from the -beginning to the end, and presents a succession of impossible marvels -performed by the somewhat indistinguishable heroes of the story. Its -qualities were reflected in the Latin versions, which in turn were drawn -upon by the Old French rhyming romancers. The latter mediaevalized and -feudalized the tale. Nor were they halted by any absurdity, or conscious -of the characterlessness of the puppets of the tale.[339] - -Further to pursue the fortunes of antique themes in mediaeval literature -would lead us beyond bounds. Yet mention should be made of the handling of -minor narratives, as the _Metamorphoses_ of Ovid. They were very popular, -and from the twelfth century on, paraphrases or refashionings were made of -many of them. These added to the old tale the interesting mediaeval -element of the moral or didactic allegory. The most prodigious instance of -this moralizing of Ovid was the work of Chrétien Légouais, a French -Franciscan who wrote at the beginning of the fourteenth century. In some -seventy thousand lines he presented the stories of the _Metamorphoses_, -the allegories which he discovered in them, and the moral teaching of the -same.[340] - -Equally interesting was the application of allegory to Ovid's _Ars -amatoria_. The first translators treated this frivolous production as an -authoritative treatise upon the art of winning love. So it was perhaps, -only Ovid was amusing himself by making a parable of his youthful -diversions. Mediaeval imitators changed the habits of the gilded youth of -Rome to suit the society of their time. But they did more, being votaries -of courtly love. Such love in the Middle Ages had its laws which were -prone to deduce their lineage from Ovid's verses. But its uplifted spirit -revelled in symbolism; and tended to change to spiritual allegory whatever -authority it imagined itself based upon, even though the authority were a -book as dissolute, when seriously considered, as the _Ars amatoria_. It is -strange to think of this poem as the very far off street-walking prototype -of De Lorris's _Roman de la rose_. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -MEDIAEVAL APPROPRIATION OF THE ROMAN LAW - - I. THE FONTES JURIS CIVILIS. - - II. ROMAN AND BARBARIAN CODIFICATION. - - III. THE MEDIAEVAL APPROPRIATION. - - IV. CHURCH LAW. - - V. POLITICAL THEORIZING. - - -Classical studies, and the gradual development of mediaeval prose and -verse, discussed in the preceding chapters, illustrate modes of mediaeval -progress. But of all examples of mediaeval intellectual growth through the -appropriation of the antique, none is more completely illuminating than -the mediaeval use of Roman law. As with patristic theology and antique -philosophy, the Roman law was crudely taken and then painfully learned, -till in the end, vitally and broadly mastered, it became even a means and -mode of mediaeval thinking. Its mediaeval appropriation illustrates the -legal capacity of the Middle Ages and their concern with law both as a -practical business and an intellectual interest. - - -I - -Primitive law is practical; it develops through the adjustment of social -exigencies. Gradually, however, in an intelligent community which is -progressing under favouring influences, some definite consciousness of -legal propriety, utility, or justice, makes itself articulate in -statements of general principles of legal right and in a steady endeavour -to adjust legal relationships and adjudicate actual controversies in -accordance. This endeavour to formulate just and useful principles, and -decide novel questions in accordance with them, and enunciate new rules in -harmony with the body of the existing law, is jurisprudence, which thus -works always for concord, co-ordination, and system. - -There was a jurisprudential element in the early law of Rome. The Twelve -Tables are trenchant announcements of rules of procedure and substantial -law. They have the form of the general imperative: "Thus let it be; If one -summons [another] to court, let him go; As a man shall have appointed by -his Will, so let it be; When one makes a bond or purchase,[341] as the -tongue shall have pronounced it, so let it be." These statements of legal -rules are far from primitive; they are elastic, inclusive, and suited to -form the foundation of a large and free legal development. And the -consistency with which the law of debt was carried out to its furthest -cruel conclusion, the permitted division of the body of the defaulting -debtor among several creditors,[342] gave earnest of the logic which was -to shape the Roman law in its humaner periods. Moreover, there is -jurisprudence in the arrangement of the Laws of the Twelve Tables. -Nevertheless the jurisprudential element is still but inchoate. - -The Romans were endowed with a genius for law. Under the later Republic -and the Empire, the minds of their jurists were trained and broadened by -Greek philosophy and the study of the laws of Mediterranean peoples; Rome -was becoming the commercial as well as social and political centre of the -world. From this happy combination of causes resulted the most -comprehensive body of law and the noblest jurisprudence ever evolved by a -people. The great jurisconsults of the Empire, working upon the prior -labours of long lines of older praetors and jurists, perfected a body of -law of well-nigh universal applicability, and throughout logically -consistent with general principles of law and equity, recognized as -fundamental. These were in part suggested by Greek philosophy, especially -by Stoicism as adapted to the Roman temperament. They represented the best -ethics, the best justice of the time. As principles of law, however, they -would have hung in the air, had not the practical as well as theorizing -genius of the jurisconsults been equal to the task of embodying them in -legal propositions, and applying the latter to the decision of cases. Thus -was evolved a body of practical rules of law, controlled, co-ordinated, -and, as one may say, universalized through the constant logical employment -of sound principles of legal justice.[343] - -The Roman law, broadly taken, was heterogeneous in origin, and complex in -its modes of growth. The great jurisconsults of the Empire recognized its -diversity of source, and distinguished its various characteristics -accordingly. They assumed (and this was a pure assumption) that every -civilized people lived under two kinds of law, the one its own, springing -from some recognized law-making source within the community; the other the -_jus gentium_, or the law inculcated among all peoples by natural reason -or common needs. - -The supposed origin of the _jus gentium_ was not simple. Back in the time -of the Republic it had become necessary to recognize a law for the many -strangers in Rome, who were not entitled to the protection of Rome's _jus -civile_. The edict of the praetor Peregrinus covered their substantial -rights, and sanctioned simple modes of sale and lease which did not -observe the forms prescribed by the _jus civile_. So this edict became the -chief source of the _jus gentium_ so-called, to wit, of those liberal -rules of law which ignored the peculiar formalities of the stricter law of -Rome. Probably foreign laws, that is to say, the commercial customs of the -Mediterranean world, were in fact recognized; and their study led to a -perception of elements common to the laws of many peoples. At all events, -in course of time the _jus gentium_ came to be regarded as consisting of -universal rules of law which all peoples might naturally follow. - -The recognition of these simple modes of contracting obligations, and -perhaps the knowledge that certain rules of law obtained among many -peoples, fostered the conception of common or natural justice, which human -reason was supposed to inculcate everywhere. Such a conception could not -fail to spring up in the minds of Roman jurists who were educated in -Stoical philosophy, the ethics of which had much to say of a common human -nature. Indeed the idea _naturalis ratio_ was in the air, and the thought -of common elements of law and justice which _naturalis ratio inter omnes -homines constituit_, lay so close at hand that it were perhaps a mistake -to try to trace it to any single source. Practically the _jus gentium_ -became identical with _jus naturale_, which Ulpian imagined as taught by -nature to all animals; the _jus gentium_, however, belonged to men -alone.[344] - -Thus rules which were conceived as those of the _jus gentium_ came to -represent the principles of rational law, and impressed themselves upon -the development of the _jus civile_. They informed the whole growth and -application of Roman law with a breadth of legal reason. And conceptions -of a _jus naturale_ and a _jus gentium_ became cognate legal fictions, by -the aid of which praetor and jurisconsult might justify the validity of -informal modes of contract. In their application, judge and jurist learned -how and when to disregard the formal requirements of the older and -stricter Roman law, and found a way to the recognition of what was just -and convenient. These fictions agreed with the supposed nature and demands -of _aequitas_, which is the principle of progressive and discriminating -legal justice. Law itself (_jus_) was identical with _aequitas_ conceived -(after Celsus's famous phrase) as the _ars boni et aequi_. - -The Roman law proper, the _jus civile_, had multifarious sources. First -the _leges_, enacted by the people; then the _plebiscita_, sanctioned by -the Plebs; the _senatus consulta_, passed by the Senate; the -_constitutiones_ and _rescripta[345] principum_, ordained by the Emperor. -Excepting the _rescripta_, these (to cover them with a modern expression) -were statutory. They were laws announced at a specific time to meet some -definite exigency. Under the Empire, the _constitutiones principum_ became -the most important, and then practically the only kind of legal enactment. - -Two or three other sources of Roman law remain for mention: first, the -_edicta_ of those judicial magistrates, especially the praetors, who had -the authority to issue them. In his edict the praetor announced what he -held to be the law and how he would apply it. The edict of each successive -praetor was a renewal and expansion or modification of that of his -predecessor. Papinian calls this source of law the "_jus praetorium_, -which the praetors have introduced to aid, supplement, or correct the _jus -civile_ for the sake of public utility." - -Next, the _responsa_ or _auctoritas jurisprudentium_, by which were -intended the judicial decisions and the authority of the legal writings of -the famous jurisconsults. Imperial rescripts recognized these _responsa_ -as authoritative for the Roman courts; and some of the emperors embodied -portions of them in formally promulgated collections, thereby giving them -the force of law. Justinian's _Digest_ is the great example of this method -of codification.[346] One need scarcely add that the authoritative -writings and _responsa_ of the jurisconsults extended and applied the _jus -gentium_, that is to say, the rules and principles of the best-considered -jurisprudence, freed so far as might be from the formal peculiarities of -the _jus civile_ strictly speaking. And the same was true of the -praetorian edict. The Roman law also gave legal effect to _inveterata -consuetudo_, the law which is sanctioned by custom: "for since the laws -bind us because established by the decision of the people, those unwritten -customs which the people have approved are binding."[347] - -Simply naming the sources of Roman law indicates the ways in which it -grew, and the part taken by the jurisconsults in its development as a -universal and elastic system. It was due to their labours that legal -principles were logically carried out through the mass of enactments and -decisions; that is, it was due to their large consideration of the body of -existing law, that each novel decision--each case of first -impression--should be a true legal deduction, and not a solecism; and that -even the new enactments should not create discordant law. And it was due -to their labours that as rules of law were called forth, they were stated -clearly and in terms of well-nigh universal applicability. - -The Laws of the Twelve Tables showed the action of legal intelligence and -the result of much experience. They sanctioned a large contractual -freedom, if within strict forms; they stated broadly the right of -testamentary disposition. Many of their provisions, which commonly were -but authoritative recognitions, were expressions of basic legal -principles, the application of which might be extended to meet the needs -of advancing civic life. And through the enlargement of this fundamental -collection of law, or deviating from it in accordance with principles -which it implicitly embodied, the jurists of the Republic and the first -centuries of the Empire formed and developed a body of private and public -law from which the jurisprudence of Europe and America has never even -sought to free itself. - -Roman jurisprudence was finally incorporated in Justinian's _Digest_, -which opens with a statement of the most general principles, even those -which would have hung in the air but for the Roman genius of logical and -practical application to the concrete instance. "Jus est ars boni et -aequi"--it is better to leave these words untranslated, such is the wealth -of significance and connotation which they have acquired. "Justitia est -constans et perpetua voluntas jus suum cuique tribuendi. Juris praecepta -sunt haec: honeste vivere, alterum non laedere, suum cuique tribuere. -Jurisprudentia est divinarum atque humanarum rerum notitia, justi atque -injusti scientia." - -The first pregnant phrase is from the older jurist Celsus; the longer -passage is by the later Ulpian, and may be taken as an expansion of the -first. Both the one and the other expressed the most advanced and -philosophic ethics of the ancient world. They are both in the first -chapter of the _Digest_, wherein they become enactments. An extract from -Paulus follows: "_Jus_ has different meanings; that which is always -_aequum ac bonum_ is called _jus_, to wit, the _jus naturale_: _jus_ also -means the _jus civile_, that which is expedient (_utile_) for all or most -in any state. And in our state we have also the praetorian _jus_." This -passage indicates the course of the development of the Roman law: the -fundamental and ceaselessly growing core of specifically Roman law, the -_jus civile_; its continual equitable application and enlargement, which -was the praetor's contribution; and the constant application of the -_aequum ac bonum_, observed perhaps in legal rules common to many peoples, -but more surely existing in the high reasoning of jurists instructed in -the best ethics and philosophy of the ancient world, and learned and -practised in the law. - -Now notice some of the still general, but distinctly legal, rather than -ethical, rules collected in the _Digest_: The laws cannot provide -specifically for every case that may arise; but when their intent is -plain, he who is adjudicating a cause should proceed _ad similia_, and -thus declare the law in the case.[348] Here is stated the general and -important formative principle, that new cases should be decided -consistently and _eleganter_, which means logically and in accordance with -established rules. Yet legal solecisms will exist, perhaps in a statute or -in some rule of law evoked by a special exigency. Their application is -not to be extended. For them the rule is: "What has been accepted _contra -rationem juris_, is not to be drawn out (_producendum_) to its -consequences,"[349] or again: "What was introduced not by principle, but -at first through error, does not obtain in like cases."[350] - -These are true principles making for the consistent development of a body -of law. Observe the scope and penetration of some other general rules: -"Nuptias non concubitus, sed consensus facit."[351] This goes to the legal -root of the whole conception of matrimony, and is still the recognized -starting-point of all law upon that subject. Again: "An agreement to -perform what is impossible will not sustain a suit."[352] This is still -everywhere a fundamental principle of the law of contracts. Again: "No one -can transfer to another a greater right than he would have himself,"[353] -another principle of fundamental validity, but, of course, like all rules -of law subject in its application to the qualifying operation of other -legal rules. - -Roman jurisprudence recognized the danger of definition: "Omnis definitio -in jure civili periculosa est."[354] Yet it could formulate admirable -ones; for example: "Inheritance is succession to the sum total (_universum -jus_) of the rights of the deceased."[355] This definition excels in the -completeness of its legal view of the matter, and is not injured by the -obvious omission to exclude those personal privileges and rights of the -deceased which terminate upon his death. - -Thus we note the sources and constructive principles of the Roman law. We -observe that while certain of the former might be called "statutory," the -chief means and method of development was the declarative edict of the -praetor and the trained labour of the jurisconsults. In these appears the -consummate genius of Roman jurisprudence, a jurisprudence matchless in its -rational conception of principles of justice which were rooted in a -philosophic consideration of human life; matchless also in its carrying -through of such principles into the body of the law and the decision of -every case. - - -II - -The Roman law was the creation of the genius of Rome and also the product -of the complex civilization of which Rome was the kinetic centre. As the -Roman power crumbled, Teutonic invaders established kingdoms within -territories formerly subject to Rome and to her law--a law, however, which -commonly had been modified to suit the peoples of the provinces. Those -territories retained their population of provincials. The invaders, -Burgundians, Visigoths, and Franks, planting themselves in the different -parts of Gaul, brought their own law, under which they continued to live, -but which they did not force upon the provincial population. On the -contrary, Burgundian and Visigothic kings promulgated codes of Roman law -for the latter. And these represent the forms in which the Roman law first -passed over into modes of acceptance and application no longer fully -Roman, but partly Teutonic and incipiently mediaeval. They exemplify, -moreover, the fact, so many aspects of which have been already noticed, of -transitional and partly barbarized communities drawing from a greater past -according to their simpler needs. - -One may say that these codes carried on processes of decline from the full -creative genius of Roman jurisprudence, which had irrevocably set in under -the Empire in the fourth and fifth centuries. The decline lay in a -weakening of the intellectual power devoted to the law and its -development. The living growth of the praetorian edict had long since come -to an end; and now a waning jurisprudential intelligence first ceased to -advance the development of law, and then failed to save from desuetude the -achieved jurisprudence of the past. So the jurisprudential and juridical -elements (_jus_) fell away from the law, and the imperial constitutions -(_leges_) remained the sole legal vehicle and means of amendment. The need -of codification was felt, and that preserving and eliminating process was -entered upon. - -Roman codification never became a reformulation. The Roman _Codex_ was a -collection of existing constitutions. A certain jurist ("Gregorianus") -made an orderly and comprehensive collection of such as early as the close -of Diocletian's reign; it was supplemented by the work of another jurist -("Hermogenianus") in the time of Constantine. Each compilation was the -work of a private person, who, without authority to restate, could but -compile the imperial constitutions. The same method was adopted by the -later codifications, which were made and promulgated under imperial -decree. There were two which were to be of supreme importance for the -legal future of western Europe, the Theodosian Code and the legislation of -Justinian. The former was promulgated in 438 by Theodosius II. and -Valentinianus. The emperors formally announce that "in imitation (_ad -similitudinem_) of the Code of Gregorianus and Hermogenianus we have -decreed that all the Constitutions should be collected" which have been -promulgated by Constantine and his successors, including ourselves.[356] -So the Theodosian Code contains many laws of the emperors who decreed -it.[357] It was thus a compilation of imperial constitutions already in -existence, or decreed from year to year while the codification was in -process (429-438). Every constitution is given in the words of its -original announcement, and with the name of the emperor. Evidently this -code was not a revision of the law. - -The codification of Justinian began with the promulgation of the _Codex_ -in 529. That was intended to be a compilation of the constitutions -contained in the previous codes and still in force, as well as those which -had been decreed since the time of Theodosius. The compilers received -authority to omit, abbreviate, and supplement. The _Codex_ was revised and -promulgated anew in 534. The constitutions which were decreed during the -remainder of Justinian's long reign were collected after his death and -published as _Novellae_. So far there was nothing radically novel. But, -under Justinian, life and art seemed to have revived in the East; and -Tribonian, with the others who assisted in these labours, had larger views -of legal reform and jurisprudential conservation than the men who worked -for Theodosius. Justinian and his coadjutors had also serious plans for -improving the teaching of the law, in the furtherance of which the famous -little book of _Institutes_ was composed after the model, and to some -extent in the words, of the _Institutes_ of Gaius. It was published in -533. - -The great labour, however, which Justinian and his lawyers were as by -Providence inspired to achieve was the encyclopaedic codification of the -jurisprudential law. Part of the emperor's high-sounding command runs -thus: - - "We therefore command you to read and sift out from the books - pertaining to the _jus Romanum_ composed by the ancient learned - jurists (_antiqui prudentes_) to whom the most sacred emperors granted - authority to indite and interpret the laws, so that the material may - all be taken from these writers, and incongruity avoided--for others - have written books which have been neither used nor recognized. When - by the favour of the Deity this material shall have been collected, it - should be reared with toil most beautiful, and consecrated as the own - and most holy temple of justice, and the whole law (_totum jus_) - should be arranged in fifty books under specific titles."[358] - -The language of the ancient jurists was to be preserved even critically, -that is to say, the compilers were directed to emend apparent errors and -restore what seemed "verum et optimum et quasi ab initio scriptum." It was -not the least of the providential mercies connected with the compilation -of this great body of jurisprudential law, that Justinian and his -commission did not abandon the phrasing of the old jurisconsults, and -restate their opinions in such language as we have a sample of in the -constitution from which the above extract is taken. This jurisprudential -part of Justinian's Codification was named the _Digest_ or -_Pandects_.[359] - -Inasmuch as Justinian's brief reconquest of western portions of the Roman -Empire did not extend north of the Alps, his codification was not -promulgated in Gaul or Germany. Even in Italy his legislation did not -maintain itself in general dominance, especially in the north where the -Lombard law narrowed its application. Moreover, throughout the peninsula, -the _Pandects_ quickly became as if they were not, and fell into -desuetude, if that can be said of a work which had not come into use. This -body of jurisprudential law was beyond the legal sense of those -monarchically-minded and barbarizing centuries, which knew law only as the -command of a royal lawgiver. The _Codex_ and the _Novellae_ were of this -nature. They, and not the _Digest_, represent the influence upon Italy of -Justinian's legislation until the renewed interest in jurisprudence -brought the _Pandects_ to the front at the close of the eleventh century. -But _Codex_ and _Novellae_ were too bulky for a period that needed to have -its intellectual labours made easy. From the first, the _Novellae_ were -chiefly known and used in the condensed form given them in the excellent -_Epitome of Julianus_, apparently a Byzantine of the last part of -Justinian's reign.[360] The cutting down and epitomizing of the _Codex_ is -more obscure; probably it began at once; the incomplete or condensed forms -were those in common use.[361] - -It is, however, with the Theodosian Code and certain survivals of the -works of the great jurists that we have immediately to do. For these were -the sources of the codes enacted by Gothic and Burgundian kings for their -Roman or Gallo-Roman subjects. Apparently the earliest of them was -prepared soon after the year 502, at the command of Gondebaud, King of the -Burgundians. This, which later was dubbed the _Papianus_,[362] was the -work of a skilled Roman lawyer, and seems quite as much a text-book as a -code. It set forth the law of the topics important for the Roman -provincials living in the Burgundian kingdom, not merely making extracts -from its sources, but stating their contents and referring to them as -authorities. These sources were substantially the same as those used by -the Visigothic _Breviarium_, which was soon to supersede the _Papianus_ -even in Burgundy. - -_Breviarium_ was the popular name of the code enacted by the Visigothic -king Alaric II. about the year 506 for his _provinciales_ in the south of -Gaul.[363] It preserved the integrity of its sources, giving the texts in -the same order, and with the same rubrics, as in the original. The -principal source was the Theodosian Code; next in importance the -collections of _Novellae_ of Theodosius and succeeding emperors: a few -texts were taken from the Codes of "Gregorianus" and "Hermogenianus." -These parts of the _Breviarium_ consisted of _leges_, that is, of -constitutions of the emperors. Two sources of quite a different character -were also drawn upon. One was the _Institutes_ of Gaius, or rather an old -epitome which had been made from it. The other was the _Sententiae_ of -Paulus, the famous "Five Books of Sentences _ad filium_." This work of -elementary jurisprudence deserved its great repute; yet its use in the -_Breviarium_ may have been due to the special sanction which had been -given it in one of the constitutions of the Theodosian Code, also taken -over into the _Breviarium_: "Pauli quoque sententias semper valere -praecipimus."[364] The same constitution confirmed the _Institutes_ of -Gaius, among other great jurisconsults. Presumably these two works were -the most commonly known as well as the clearest and best of elementary -jurisprudential compositions. - -An interesting feature of the _Breviarium_, and destined to be of great -importance, was the _Interpretatio_ accompanying all its texts, except -those drawn from the epitome of Gaius. This was not the work of Alaric's -compilers, but probably represents the approved exposition of the _leges_, -with the exposition of the already archaic _Sentences_ of Paulus, current -in the law schools of southern Gaul in the fifth century. The -_Interpretatio_ thus taken into the _Breviarium_ had, like the texts, the -force of royal law, and soon was to surpass them in practice by reason of -its perspicuity and modernity. Many manuscripts contain only the -_Interpretatio_ and omit the texts. - -The _Breviarium_ became the source of Roman law, indeed the Roman law _par -excellence_, for the Merovingian and then the Carolingian realm, outside -of Italy. It was soon subjected to the epitomizing process, and its -epitomes exist, dating from the eighth to the tenth century: they reduced -it in bulk, and did away with the practical inconvenience of _lex_ and -_interpretatio_. Further, the _Breviarium_, and even the epitomes, were -glossed with numerous marginal or interlinear notes made by transcribers -or students. These range from definitions of words, sometimes taken from -Isidore's _Etymologiae_, to brief explanations of difficulties in the -text.[365] In like manner in Italy, the _Codex_ and _Novellae_ of -Justinian were, as has been said, reduced to epitomes, and also equipped -with glosses. - -These barbaric codes of Roman law mark the passage of Roman law into -incipiently mediaeval stages. On the other hand, certain Latin codes of -barbarian law present the laws of the Teutons touched with Roman -conceptions, and likewise becoming inchoately mediaeval. - -Freedom, the efficient freedom of the individual, belongs to civilization -rather than to barbarism. The actual as well as imaginary perils -surrounding the lives of men who do not dwell in a safe society, entail a -state of close mutual dependence rather than of liberty. Law in a -civilized community has the twofold purpose of preserving the freedom of -the individual and of maintaining peace. With each advance in human -progress, the latter purpose, at least in the field of private civil law, -recedes a little farther, while the importance of private law, as -compared with penal law, constantly increases. - -The law of uncivilized peoples lacks the first of these purposes. Its sole -conscious object is to maintain, or at least provide a method of -maintaining peace; it is scarcely aware that in maintaining peace it is -enhancing the freedom of every individual. - -The distinct and conscious purpose of early Teutonic law was to promote -peace within the tribe, or among the members of a warband. Thus was law -regarded by the people--as a means of peace. Its communication or -ordainment might be ascribed to a God or a divine King. But in reality its -chief source lay in slowly growing regulative custom.[366] The force of -law, or more technically speaking the legal sanction, lay in the power of -the tribe to uphold its realized purpose as a tribe; for the power to -maintain its solidarity and organization was the final test of its -law-upholding strength. - -Primarily the old Teutonic law looked to the tribe and its sub-units, and -scarcely regarded the special claims of an individual, or noticed -mitigating or aggravating elements in his culpability--answerability -rather. It prescribed for his peace and protection as a member of a -family, or as one included within the bands of _Sippe_ (blood -relationship); or as one of a warband or a chief's close follower, one of -his _comitatus_. On the other hand, the law was stiff, narrow, and -ungeneralized in its recognized rules. The first Latin codifications of -Teutonic law are not to be compared for breadth and elasticity of -statement to the Law of the Twelve Tables. And their substance was more -primitive.[367] - -The earliest of these first codifications was the Lex Salica, codified -under Clovis near the year 500. Unquestionably, contact with Roman -institutions suggested the idea, even as the Latin language was the -vehicle, of this code. Otherwise the Lex Salica is un-Christian and -un-Roman, although probably it was put together after Clovis's baptism. It -was not a comprehensive codification, and omitted much that was common -knowledge at the time; which now makes it somewhat enigmatical. One finds -in it lists of thefts of every sort of object that might be stolen, and of -the various injuries to the person that might be done, and the sum of -money to be paid in each case as atonement or compensation. Such schedules -did not set light store on life and property. On the contrary, they were -earnestly intended as the most available protection of elemental human -rights, and as the best method of peaceful redress. The sums awarded as -Wergeld were large, and were reckoned according to the slain man's rank. -By committing a homicide, a man might ruin himself and even his blood -relatives (_Sippe_) and of course on failure to atone might incur -servitude or death or outlawry. - -The Salic law is scarcely touched by the law of Rome. From this piece of -intact Teutonism the codes of other Teuton peoples shade off into bodies -of law partially Romanized, that is, affected by the provincialized Roman -law current in the locality where the Teutonic tribe found a home. The -codes of the Burgundians and the Visigoths in southern France are examples -of this Teutonic-Romanesque commingling. On the other hand, the Lombard -codes, though later in time, held themselves even harshly Teutonic, as -opposed to any influence from the law of the conquered Italian population, -for whom the Lombards had less regard than Burgundians and Visigoths had -for their subject provincials. Moreover, as the Frankish realm extended -its power over other Gallo-Teuton states, the various Teuton laws modified -each other and tended toward uniformity. Naturally the law of the Franks, -first the Salic and then the partly derivative Ribuarian code, exerted a -dominating influence.[368] - -These Teuton peoples regarded law as pertaining to the tribe. There was -little conscious intention on their part of forcing their laws on the -conquered. When the Visigoths established their kingdom in southern France -they had no idea of changing the law of the Gallo-Roman provincials living -within the Visigothic rule; and shortly afterwards, when the Franks -extended their power over the still Roman parts of Gaul, and then over -Alemanni, Burgundians, and Visigoths, they likewise had no thought of -forcing their laws either upon Gallo-Romans or upon the Teuton people -previously dominant within a given territory. This remained true even of -the later Frankish period, when the Carolingians conquered the Lombard -kingdom in upper Italy. - -Indeed, to all these Teutons and to the Roman provincials as well, it -seemed as a matter of course that tribal or local laws should be permitted -to endure among the peoples they belonged to. These assumptions and the -conditions of the growing Frankish Empire evoked, as it were, a more acute -mobilization of the principle that to each people belonged its law. For -provincials and Teuton peoples were mingling throughout the Frankish -realm, and the first obvious solution of the legal problems arising was to -hold that provincials and Teutons everywhere should remain amenable and -entitled to their own law, which was assumed to attend them as a personal -appurtenance. Of course this solution became intolerable as tribal blood -and delimitations were obscured, and men moved about through the -territories of one great realm. Archbishop Agobard of Lyons remarks that -one might see five men sitting together, each amenable to a different -law.[369] The escape from this legal confusion was to revert to the idea -of law and custom as applying to every one within a given territory. The -personal principle gradually gave way to this conception in the course of -the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries.[370] In the meanwhile during the -Merovingian, and more potently in the Carolingian period, king's law, as -distinguished from people's law, had been an influence making for legal -uniformity throughout that wide conglomerate empire which acknowledged the -authority of the Frankish king or emperor. The king's law might emanate -from the delegated authority, and arise from the practices, of royal -functionaries; it was most formally promulgated in Capitularies, which -with Charlemagne reach such volume and importance. Some of these royal -ordinances related to a town or district only. Others were for the realm, -and the latter not only were instances of law applying universally, but -also tended to promote, or suggest, the harmonizing of laws which they did -not modify directly. - - -III - -The Roman law always existed in the Middle Ages. Provincialized and -changed, it was interwoven in the law and custom of the land of the -_langue d'oc_ and even in the customary law of the lands where the _langue -d'oil_ was spoken. Through the same territory it existed also in the -_Breviarium_ and its epitomes. There was very little of it in England, and -scarcely a trace in the Germany east of the Rhine. In Italy it was applied -when not superseded by the Lombard codes, and was drawn from works based -on the _Codex_ and _Novels_ of Justinian. But the jurisprudential law -contained in Justinian's _Digest_ was as well forgotten in Italy as in any -land north of the Alps, where the Codification of Justinian had never been -promulgated. The extent to which the classic forms of Roman law were known -or unknown, unforgotten or forgotten, was no accident as of codices or -other writings lost accidentally. It hung upon larger conditions--whether -society had reached that stage of civilized exigency demanding the -application of an advanced commercial law, and whether there were men -capable of understanding and applying it. This need and the capacity to -understand would be closely joined.[371] - -The history of the knowledge and understanding of Roman law in the Middle -Ages might be resolved into a consideration of the sources drawn upon, and -the extent and manner of their use, from century to century. In the fifth -century, when the Theodosian Code was promulgated, law was thought of -chiefly as the mandate of a ruler. The Theodosian Code was composed of -_constitutiones principum_. Likewise the _Breviarium_, based upon it, and -other barbarian codes of Roman law, were ordained by kings; and so were -the codes of Teutonic law. For law, men looked directly to the visible -ruler. The _jus_, reasoned out by the wisdom of trained jurists, had lost -authority and interest. To be sure, a hundred years later Justinian's -Commission put together in the _Digest_ the body of jurisprudential law; -but even in Italy where his codification was promulgated, the _Digest_ -fell still-born. Never was an official compilation of less effect upon its -own time, or of such mighty import for times to come. - -The _Breviarium_ became _par excellence_ the code of Roman law for the -countries included in the present France. With its accompanying -_Interpretatio_ it was a work indicating intelligence on the part of its -compilers, whose chief care was as to arrangement and explanation. But the -time was not progressive, and a gathering mental decadence was shown by -the manner in which the _Breviarium_ was treated and used, to wit, -epitomized in many epitomes, and practically superseded by them. Here was -double evidence of decay; for the supersession of such a work by such -epitomes indicates a diminishing legal knowledge in the epitomizers, and -also a narrowing of social and commercial needs in the community, for -which the original work contained much that was no longer useful. - -There were, of course, epitomes and epitomes. Such a work as the _Epitome -Juliani_, in which a good Byzantine lawyer of Justinian's time presented -the substance of the _Novellae_, was an excellent compendium, and deserved -the fame it won. Of a lower order were the later manipulations of -Justinian's _Codex_, by which apparently the _Codex_ was superseded in -Italy. One of these was the _Summa Perusina_ of the ninth or tenth -century, a wretched work, and one of the blindest.[372] - -Justinian's _Codex_ and Julian's _Epitome_ were equipped with glosses, -some of which are as early as Justinian's time; but the greater part are -later. The glosses to Justinian's legislation resemble those of the -_Breviarium_ before referred to. That is to say, as the centuries pass -downward toward the tenth, the glosses answer to cruder needs: they become -largely translations of words, often taken from Isidore's -_Etymologiae_.[373] Indeed many of them appear to have had merely a -grammatical interest, as if the text was used as an aid in the study of -the Latin language. - -The last remark indicates a way in which a very superficial acquaintance -with the Roman law was kept up through the centuries prior to the twelfth: -it was commonly taught in the schools devoted to elementary instruction, -that is to say, to the Seven Liberal Arts. In many instances the -instructors had only such knowledge as they derived from Isidore, that -friend of every man. That is, they had no special knowledge of law, but -imparted various definitions to their pupils, just as they might teach -them the names of diseases and remedies, a list of which (and nothing -more) they would also find in Isidore. It was all just as one might have -expected. Elementary mediaeval education was encyclopaedic in its childish -way; and, in accordance with the methods and traditions of the transition -centuries, all branches of instruction were apt to be turned to grammar -and rhetoric, and made linguistic, so to speak--mere subjects for curious -definition. Thus it happened to law as well as medicine. Yet some of the -teachers may have had a practical acquaintance with legal matters, with an -understanding for legal documents and skill to draw them up. - -The assertion also is warranted that at certain centres of learning -substantial legal instruction was given; one may even speak of schools of -law. Scattered information touching all the early mediaeval periods shows -that there was no time when instruction in Roman law could not be obtained -somewhere in western Europe. To refer to France, the Roman law was very -early taught at Narbonne; at Orleans it was taught from the time of Bishop -Theodulphus, Charlemagne's contemporary, and probably the teaching of it -long continued. One may speak in the same way of Lyons; and in the -eleventh century Angers was famed for the study of law. - -Our information is less broken as to an Italy where through the early -Middle Ages more general opportunities offered for elementary education, -and where the Roman law, with Justinian's Codification as a base, made in -general the law of the land. There is no reason to suppose that it was not -taught. Contemporary allusions bear witness to the existence of a school -of law in Rome in the time of Cassiodorus and afterwards, which is -confirmed by a statement of the jurist Odofredus in the thirteenth -century. At Pavia there was a school of law in the time of Rothari, the -legislating Lombard king; this reached the zenith of its repute in the -eleventh century. Legal studies also flourished at Ravenna, and succumbed -before the rising star of the Bologna school at the beginning of the -twelfth century.[374] In these and doubtless many other cities[375] -students were instructed in legal practices and formulae, and some -substance of the Roman law was taught. Extant legal documents of various -kinds afford, especially for Italy, ample evidence of the continuous -application of the Roman law.[376] - -As for the merits and deficiencies of legal instruction in Italy and in -France, an idea may be gained from the various manuals that were prepared -either for use in the schools of law or for the practitioner. Because of -the uncertainty, however, of their age and provenance, it is difficult to -connect them with a definite _foyer_ of instruction. - -Until the opening of the twelfth century, or at all events until the last -quarter of the eleventh, the legal literature evinces scarcely any -originality or critical capacity. There are glosses, epitomes, and -collections of extracts, more or less condensed or confused from whatever -text the compiler had before him. Little jurisprudential intelligence -appears in any writings which are known to precede the close of the -eleventh century; none, for instance, in the epitomes of the _Breviarium_ -and the glosses relating to that code; none in those works of Italian -origin the material for which was drawn directly or indirectly from the -_Codex_ or _Novels_ of Justinian, for instance the _Summa Perusina_ and -the _Lex Romana canonice compta_, both of which probably belong to the -ninth century. Such compilations were put together for practical use, or -perhaps as aids to teaching. - -Thus, so far as inference may be drawn from the extant writings, the legal -teaching in any school during this long period hardly rose above an -uncritical and unenlightened explanation of Roman law somewhat -mediaevalized and deflected from its classic form and substance. There was -also practical instruction in current legal forms and customs. Interest in -the law had not risen above practical needs, nor was capacity shown for -anything above a mechanical handling of the matter. Legal study was on a -level with the other intellectual phenomena of the period. - -In an opusculum[377] written shortly after the middle of the eleventh -century, Peter Damiani bears unequivocal, if somewhat hostile, witness to -the study of law at Ravenna; and it is clear that in his time legal -studies were progressing in both France and Italy. It is unsafe to speak -more definitely, because of the difficulty in fixing the time and place of -certain rather famous pieces of legal literature, which show a marked -advance upon the productions to be ascribed with certainty to an earlier -time. The reference is to the _Petri exceptiones_ and the _Brachylogus_. -The critical questions relating to the former are too complex even to -outline here. Both its time and place are in dispute. The ascribed dates -range from the third quarter of the eleventh century to the first quarter -of the twelfth, a matter of importance, since the opening of the twelfth -century is marked by the rise of the Bologna school. As for the place, -some scholars still adhere to the south of France, while others look to -Pavia or Ravenna. On the whole, the weight of argument seems to favour -Italy and a date not far from 1075.[378] - -The _Petrus_, as it is familiarly called, is drawn from immediately prior -and still extant compilations. The compiler wished to give a compendious -if not systematic presentation of law as accepted and approved in his -time, that is to say, of Roman law somewhat mediaevalized in tone, and -with certain extraneous elements from the Lombard codes. The ultimate -Roman sources were the Codification of Justinian, and indeed all of it, -_Digest_, _Codex_, and _Novels_, the last in the form to which they had -been brought in Julian's _Epitome_. The purpose of the compilation is -given in the Prologue,[379] which in substance is as follows: - - "Since for many divers reasons, on account of the great and manifold - difficulties in the laws, even the Doctors of the laws cannot without - pains reach a certain opinion, we, taking account of both laws, to - wit, the _jus civile_ and the _jus naturale_, unfold the solution of - controversies under plain and patent heads. Whatever is found in the - laws that is useless, void, or contrary to equity, we trample under - our feet. Whatever has been added and surely held to, we set forth in - its integral meaning so that nothing may appear unjust or provocative - of appeal from thy judgments, Odilo;[380] but all may make for the - vigour of justice and the praise of God." - -The arrangement of topics in the _Petrus_ hardly evinces any clear design. -The substance, however, is well presented. If there be a question to be -solved, it is plainly stated, and the solution arrived at may be -interesting. For example, a case seems to have arisen where the son of one -who died intestate had seized the whole property to the exclusion of the -children of two deceased daughters. The sons of one daughter acquiesced. -The sons of the other _per placitum et guerram_ forced their uncle to give -up their share. Thereupon the supine cousins demanded to share in what had -so been won. The former contestants resisted on the plea that the latter -had borne no aid in the contest and that they had obtained only their own -portion. The decision was that the supine cousins might claim their -heritage from whoever held it, and should receive their share in what the -successful contestants had won; but that the latter could by -counter-actions compel them to pay their share of the necessary expenses -of the prior contest.[381] - -Sometimes the _Petrus_ seems to draw a general rule of law from the -apparent instances of its application in Justinian's Codification. Therein -certain formalities were prescribed in making a testament, in adopting a -son, or emancipating a slave. The _Petrus_ draws from them the general -principle that where the law prescribes formalities, the transaction is -not valid if they are omitted.[382] In fine, unsystematized as is the -arrangement of topics, the work presents an advance in legal intelligence -over mediaeval law-writings earlier than the middle of the eleventh -century. - -If the _Petrus_ was adapted for use in practice, the _Brachylogus_, on the -other hand, was plainly a book of elementary instruction, formed on the -model of Justinian's _Institutes_. But it made use of his entire -codification, the _Novels_, however, only as condensed in Julian's -_Epitome_. The influence of the _Breviarium_ is also noticeable; which -might lead one to think that the treatise was written in Orleans or the -neighbourhood, since the _Breviarium_ was not in use in Italy, while the -Codification of Justinian was known in France by the end of the eleventh -century. The beginning of the twelfth is the date usually given to the -_Brachylogus_. It does not belong to the Bologna school of glossators, but -rather immediately precedes them, wherever it was composed.[383] - -The _Brachylogus_, as a book of Institutes, compares favourably with its -model, from the language of which it departed at will. Both works are -divided into four _libri_; but the _libri_ of the _Brachylogus_ correspond -better to the logical divisions of the law. Again, frequently the author -of the _Brachylogus_ breaks up the chapters of Justinian's _Institutes_ -and gives the subject-matter under more pertinent headings. Sometimes the -statements of the older work are improved by rearrangement. The -definitions of the _Brachylogus_ are pithy and concise, even to a fault. -Often the exposition is well adapted to the purposes of an elementary -text-book,[384] which was meant to be supplemented by oral instruction. On -the whole, the work shows that the author is no longer encumbered by the -mass or by the advanced character of his sources. He restates their -substance intelligently, and thinks for himself. He is no compiler, and -his work has reached the rank of a treatise. - -The merits of the _Brachylogus_ as an elementary text-book are surpassed -by those of the so-called _Summa Codicis Irnerii_, a book which may mark -the beginning of the Bologna school of law, and may even be the -composition of its founder. Many arguments are adduced for this -authorship.[385] The book has otherwise been deemed a production of the -last days of the school of law at Rome just before the school was broken -up by some catastrophe as to which there is little information. In that -case the work would belong to the closing years of the eleventh century, -whereas the authorship of Irnerius would bring it to the beginning of the -twelfth. At all events, its lucid jurisprudential reasoning precludes the -likelihood of an earlier origin. - -This _Summa_ is an exposition of Roman law, following the arrangement and -titles of Justinian's _Codex_, but making extensive use of the _Digest_. -It thus contains Roman jurisprudential law, and may be regarded as a -compendious text-book for law students, forming apparently the basis of a -course of lectures which treated the topics more at length.[386] The -author's command of his material is admirable, and his presentation -masterly. Whether he was Irnerius or some one else, he was a great -teacher. His work may be also called academic, in that his standpoint is -always that of the Justinianean law, although he limits his exposition to -those topics which had living interest for the twelfth century. Private -substantial law forms the chief matter, but procedure is set forth and -penal law touched upon. The author appreciates the historical development -of the Roman law and the character of its various sources--praetorian law, -_constitutiones principum_, and _responsa prudentium_. He also shows -independence, and a regard for legal reasoning and the demands of justice. -While he sets forth the _jus civile_, his exposition and approval follow -the dictates of the _jus naturale_. - - "The established laws are to be understood benignly, so as to preserve - their spirit, and prevent their departure from equity; for the Judge - recognizes ordainments as legitimate when they conform to the - principles of justice (_ratio equitatis_).... Interpretation is - sometimes general and imperative, as when the lawgiver declares it: - then it must be applied not only to the matter for which it is - announced, but in all like cases. Sometimes an interpretation is - imperative, but only for the special case, like the interpretation - which is declared by those adjudicating a cause. It is then to be - accepted in that cause, but not in like instances; for not by - precedents, but by the laws are matters to be adjusted. There is - another kind of interpretation which binds no one, that made by - teachers explaining an ambiguous law, for although it may be - admissible because sound, still it compels no one. For every - interpretation should so be made as not to depart from justice, and - that all absurdity may be avoided and no door opened to fraud."[387] - -One must suppose that such concise statements were explained and qualified -in the author's lectures. But even as they stand, they afford an -exposition of Roman principles of interpretation. Not only under the Roman -Empire, but subsequently in mediaeval times, the Roman lawyer or the -canonist did not pay the deference to adjudicated precedent which is felt -by the English or American judge. The passage in the _Codex_ which -"Irnerius" was expounding commands that the judge, in deciding a case, -shall follow the laws and the reasoning of the great jurists, rather than -the decision of a like controversy. - -Since the author of this _Summa_ weighs the justice, the reason, and the -convenience of the laws, and compares them with each other, his book is a -work of jurisprudence. Its qualities may be observed in its discussion of -_possession_ and the rights arising therefrom. The writer has just been -expounding the _usucapio_, an institution of the _jus civile_ strictly -speaking, whereby the law of Rome in certain instances protected and, -after three years, perfected, the title to property which one had in good -faith acquired from a vendor who was not the owner: - - "Now we must discuss the _ratio possessionis_. _Usucapio_ in the _jus - civile_ hinges on possession, and ownership by the _jus naturale_ may - take its origin in possession. There are many differences in the ways - of acquiring possession, which must be considered. And since in the - _constitutiones_ and _responsa prudentium_ divers reasons are adduced - regarding possession, my associates have begged that I would expound - this important and obscure subject in which is mingled the _ratio_ - both of the civil and the natural law. So I will do my best. First one - must consider what possession is, how it is acquired, maintained, or - lost. Possession (here the author follows Paulus and Labeo in the - _Digest_) is as when one's feet are set upon a thing, when body - naturally rests on body. To acquire possession is to begin to possess. - Herein one considers both the fact and the right. The fact arises - through ourselves or our representative. It is understood differently - as to movables and as to land; for the movable we take in our hand, - but we take possession of a farm by going upon it with this intent and - laying hold of a sod. The intent to possess is crucial. Thus a ring - put in the hand of a sleeper is not possessed for lack of intent on - his part. You possess naturally when with mind and body (yours or - another's who represents you) you hold or sit upon with intent to - possess. Corporeal things you properly possess, and acquire possession - of, by your own or your agent's hand. In the same manner you retain. - Incorporeal things cannot be possessed properly speaking, but the - civil law accords a quasi possession of them." - -Then follows a discussion of the persons through whom another may have -possession, and of the various modes of possessing _longa manu_ without -actual touch: - - "It is one thing when the possession begins with you, and another when - it is transferred to you by a prior possessor: for possession begins - in three ways, by occupation, accession, and transfer. You occupy the - thing that belongs to no one. By accession you acquire possession in - two ways. Thus the increment may be possessed, as the fruit of thy - handmaid; or the accession consists in the union with a larger thing - which is yours, as when alluvium is deposited on your land. Again - possession is transferred to you," - -voluntarily or otherwise. He now discusses the various modes in which -possession is acquired by transfer, then the nature of the _justa_ or -_injusta causa_ with which possession may begin, and the effect on the -rights of the possessor, and then some matters more peculiar to the time -of Justinian. After which he passes to the loss of possession, and -concludes with saying that he has endeavoured to go over the whole -subject, and whatever is omitted or insufficiently treated, he begs that -it be laid to the fault of _humanae imbecillitatis_. The discussion reads -like a carefully drawn outline which his lecture should expand.[388] - -The knowledge and understanding of the Roman law in the mediaeval -centuries should be viewed in conjunction with the general progress of -intellectual aptitude during the same periods. The growth of legal -knowledge will then show itself as a part of mediaeval development, as one -phase of the flowering of the mediaeval intellect. For the treatment of -Roman law presents stages essentially analogous to those by which the -Middle Ages reached their understanding and appropriation of other -portions of their great inheritance from classical antiquity and the -Christianity of the Fathers. Let us recapitulate: the Roman law, adapted, -or corrupted if one will, epitomized and known chiefly in its later -enacted forms, was never unapplied nor the study of it quite abandoned. It -constituted a great part of the law of Italy and southern France; in these -two regions likewise was its study least neglected. We have observed the -superficial and mainly linguistic nature of the glosses which this early -mediaeval period interlined or wrote on the margins of the source-books -drawn upon, also the rude and barbarous nature of the earlier summaries -and compilations. They were helps to a crude practical knowledge of the -law. Gradually the treatment seems to become more intelligent, a little -nearer the level of the matter excerpted or made use of. Through the -eleventh century it is evident that social conditions were demanding and -also facilitating an increase in legal knowledge; and at that century's -close a by no means stupid compilation appears, the _Petri exceptiones_, -and perhaps such a fairly intelligent manual for elementary instruction -as the _Brachylogus_. These works indicate that the instruction in the law -was improving. We have also the sparse references to schools of law, at -Rome, at Ravenna, at Orleans. Then we come upon the _Summa Codicis_ called -of Irnerius, of uncertain _provenance_, like the _Petrus_ and -_Brachylogus_. But there is no need to be informed specifically of its -place and date in order to recognize its advance in legal intelligence, in -veritable jurisprudence. The writer was a master of the law, an adept in -its exposition, and his oral teaching must have been of a high order. With -this book we have unquestionably touched the level of the strong -beginnings of the greatest of mediaeval schools of Roman law. - -Its seat was Bologna, one of the chief centres of the civic and commercial -life of Lombardy. The Lombards themselves had shown a persistent legal -genius: their own Teutonic codes, enacted in Italy, had maintained -themselves in that land of Roman law and custom. Lombard codification had -almost reached a jurisprudence of its own, at Pavia, the juridical centre -of Lombardy. The provisions of various codes had been compared and put -together in a sort of _Concordia_, as early as the ninth century.[389] -Possibly the rivalry of Lombard law might stimulate those learned in the -law of Rome to sharper efforts to expound it and prove its superiority. -Moreover, all sides of civic life and culture were flourishing in that -region where novel commercial relations were calling for a corresponding -progress in the law, and especially for a better knowledge of the Roman -law which alone afforded provision for their regulation. - -As some long course of human development approaches its climax, the -advance apparently becomes so rapid as to give the impression of something -suddenly happening, a sudden leap upward of the human spirit. The velocity -of the movement seems to quicken as the summit is neared. One easily finds -examples, for instance the fifth century before Christ in Greek art, or -the fourth century in Greek philosophy, or again the excellence so quickly -reached apparently by the Middle High German poetry just about the year -1200. But may not the seeming suddenness of the phenomenon be due to lack -of information as to antecedents? and the flare of the final achievement -even darken what went before? Yet, in fact, as a movement nears its -climax, it may become more rapid. For, as the promoting energies and -favouring conditions meet in conjunction, their joint action becomes more -effective. Forces free themselves from cumbrances and draw aid from one -another. Thus when the gradual growth of intellectual faculty effects a -conjunction with circumstances which offer a fair field, and the prizes of -life as a reward, a rapid increase of power may evince itself in novel and -timely productivity. - -This may suggest the manner of the apparently sudden rise of the Bologna -school of Roman law, which, be it noted, took place but a little before -the time of Gratian's achievement in the Canon law, itself contemporaneous -with the appearance of Peter Lombard's novel _Books of Sentences_.[390] -The preparation, although obscure, existed; and the school after its -commencement passed onward through stages of development, to its best -accomplishment, and then into a condition of stasis, if not decline. -Irnerius apparently was its first master; and of his life little is known. -He was a native of Bologna. His name as _causidicus_ is attached to a -State paper of the year 1113. Thereafter he appears in the service of the -German emperor Henry V. We have no sure trace of him after 1118, though -there is no reason to suppose that he did not live and labour for some -further years. He had taught the Arts at Ravenna and Bologna before -teaching, or perhaps seriously studying, the law. But his career as a -teacher of the law doubtless began before the year 1113, when he is first -met with as a man of affairs. Accounts agree in ascribing to him the -foundation of the school. - -Unless the _Summa Codicis_ already mentioned, and a book of _Quaestiones_, -be really his, his glosses upon Justinian's _Digest_, _Codex_, and -_Novels_, are all we have of him;[391] of the rest we know by report. The -glosses themselves indicate that this jurist had been a grammarian, and -used the learning of his former profession in his exposition of the law. -His interlinear glosses are explanations of words, and would seem to -represent his earlier, more tentative, work when he was himself learning -the meaning of the law. But the marginal glosses are short expositions of -the passages to which they are attached, and perhaps belong to the time of -his fuller command over the legal material. They indicate, besides, a -critical consideration of the text, and even of the original connection -which the passage in the _Digest_ held in the work of the jurisconsult -from which it had been taken. Some of them show an understanding of the -chronological sequence of the sources of the Roman law, _e.g._ that the -law-making power had existed in the people and then passed to the -emperors. These glosses of Irnerius represent a clear advance in -jurisprudence over any previous legal comment subsequent to the -_Interpretatio_ attached to the _Breviarium_. It was also part of his plan -to equip his manuscripts of the _Codex_ with extracts taken from the text -of the _Novels_, and not from the _Epitome of Julian_. He appears also as -a lawyer versed in the practice of the law. For he wrote a book of forms -for notaries and a treatise on procedure, neither of which is extant.[392] - -The accomplishment of the Bologna school may be judged more fully from the -works, still extant, of some of its chief representatives in the -generations following Irnerius. A worthy one was Placentinus, a native of -Piacenza. The year of his birth is unknown, but he died in 1192, after a -presumably full span of life, passed chiefly as a student and teacher of -the law. He taught in Mantua and Montpellier, as well as in Bologna. He -was an accomplished jurist and a lover of the classic literature. His work -entitled _De varietate actionum_ was apparently the first attempt to set -forth the Roman law in an arrangement and form that did not follow the -sources.[393] He opens his treatise with an allegory of a noble dame, -hight Jurisprudentia, within the circle of whose sweet and honied -utterances many eager youths were thronging. Placentinus drew near, and -received from her the book which he now gives to others.[394] This little -allegory savours of the _De consolatione_ of Boëthius, or, if one will, of -Capella's _De nuptiis Philologiae_. - -The most admirable surviving work of Placentinus is his Summa of the -_Codex_ of Justinian. His autobiographical _proemium_ shows him not -lacking in self-esteem, and tells why he undertook the work. He had -thought at first to complete the Summa of Rogerius, an older glossator, -but then decided to put that book to sleep, and compose a full Summa of -the _Codex_ himself, from the beginning to the end. This by the favour of -God he has done; it is the work of his own hands, from head to heel, and -all the matter is his own--not borrowed. Next he wrote for beginners a -Summa of the _Institutes_. After which he returned to his own town, and -shortly proceeded thence to Bologna, whither he had been called. "There in -the citadel (_in castello_) for two years I expounded the laws to -students; I brought the other teachers to the threshold of envy; I emptied -their benches of students. The hidden places of the law I laid open, I -reconciled the conflicts of enactments, I unlocked the secrets most -potently." His success was great, and he was besought to continue his -course of lectures. He complied, and remained two years more, and then -returned to Montpellier, in order to compose a Summa of the _Digest_.[395] -If indeed Placentinus speaks bombastically of his work, its excellence -excuses him. His well-earned reputation as a jurist and scholar long -endured. - -_Quaestiones_, _Distinctiones_, _Libri disputationum_, _Summae_ of the -_Codex_ or the _Institutions_, and other legal writings, are extant in -goodly bulk and number from the Bologna school. The names of the men are -almost legion, and many were of great repute in their day both as jurists -and as men of affairs. We may mention Azo and Accursius, of a little -later time. Azo's name appears in public documents from the year 1190 to -1220--and he may have survived the latter date by some years. His works -were of such compass and excellence as to supersede those of his -predecessors. His glosses still survive, and his _Lectura_ on the _Codex_, -his _Summae_ of the _Codex_ and the _Institutes_, and his _Quaestiones_, -and _Brocarda_, the last a sort of work stating general legal propositions -and those contradicting them. Azo's glosses were so complete as to -constitute a continuous exposition of the entire legislation of Justinian. -His _Summae_ of the _Codex_ and _Institutes_ drove those of Placentinus -out of use, which we note with a smile.[396] - -None of the glossators is better known than Accursius. He comes before us -as a Florentine, and apparently a peasant's son. He died an old man rich -and famous, about the year 1260. Azo was his teacher. In 1252 he was -Podesta of Bologna, which indicates the respect in which men held him. -Villani, the Florentine historian, describes him as of martial form, -grave, thoughtful, even melancholy in aspect, as if always meditating; a -man of brilliant talents and extraordinary memory, sober and chaste in -life, but delighting in noble vesture. His hearers drank in the laws of -living from his mien and manners no less than from the dissertations of -his mouth.[397] Late in life he retired to his villa, and there in quiet -worked on his great _Glossa_ till he died. - -This famous, perhaps all too famous, _Glossa ordinaria_ was a digest and, -as it proved, a final one, of the glosses of his predecessors and -contemporaries. He drew not only from their glosses, but also on their -_Summae_ and other writings. He added a good deal of his own. Great as was -the feat, the somewhat deadened talent of a compiler shows in the result, -which flattened out the individual labours of so many jurists. It came at -once into general use in the courts and outside of them; for it was a -complete commentary on the Justinianean law, so compendious and convenient -that there was no further need of the glosses of earlier men. This book -marked the turning-point of the Bologna school, after which its -productivity lessened. Its work was done: _Codex_, _Novels_, and above -all the _Pandects_ were rescued from oblivion, and fully expounded, so far -as the matter in them was still of interest. When the labours of the -school had been conveniently heaped together in one huge _Glossa_, there -was no vital inducement to do this work again. The school of the -glossators was _functus officio_. Naturally with the lessening of the -call, productivity diminished. Little was left to do save to gloss the -glosses, an epigonic labour which would not attract men of talent. -Moreover, treating the older glosses, instead of the original text, as the -matter to be interpreted was unfavourable to progress in the understanding -of the latter. - -Yet, for a little, the breath of life was still to stir in the school of -the glossators. There was a man of fame, a humanist indeed, named Cino, -whose beautiful tomb still draws the lover of things lovely to Pistoia. -Cino was also a jurist, and it came to him to be the teacher of one whose -name is second to none among the legists of the Middle Ages. This was -Bartolus, born probably in the year 1314 at Sassoferrato in the duchy of -Urbino. He was a scholar, learned in geometry and Hebrew, also a man of -affairs. He taught the law at Pisa and Perugia, and in the last-named town -he died in 1357, not yet forty-four years old. Bartolus wrote and compiled -full commentaries on the entire _Corpus juris civilis_; and yet he -produced no work differing in kind from works of his predecessors. -Moreover, between him and the body of the law rose the great mass of gloss -and comment already in existence, through which he did not always -penetrate to the veritable _Corpus_. Yet his labours were inspired with -the energy of a vigorous nature, and he put fresh thoughts into his -commentaries.[398] - -The school of glossators presented the full Roman law to Europe. The -careful and critical interpretation of the text of Justinian's -Codification, of the _Digest_ above all, was their great service. In -performing it, these jurists also had educated themselves and developed -their own intelligence. They had also put together in Summae the results -of their own education in the law. These works facilitated legal study and -sharpened the faculties of students and professors. Books of Quaestiones, -legal disputations, works upon legal process and formulae, served the same -ends.[399] These men were deficient in historical knowledge. Yet they -compared _Digest_, _Codex_, and _Novels_; they tried to re-establish the -purity of the text; they weighed and they expounded. Theirs was an -intellectual effort to master the jurisprudence of Rome: their labours -constituted a renaissance of jurisprudence; and the fact that they were -often men of affairs as well as professors, kept them from ignoring the -practical bearings of the matters which they taught. - -The work of the glossators may be compared with that of the theologian -philosophers of the thirteenth century--Alexander of Hales, Albertus -Magnus, Thomas Aquinas--who were winning for the world a new and -comprehensive knowledge of Aristotle. Both jurists and philosophers, in -their different spheres, carried through a more profound study, and -reached a more comprehensive knowledge, of a great store of antique -thought, than previous mediaeval centuries conceived of. Moreover, the -interpretation of the _Corpus juris_ was quite as successful as the -interpretation of Aristotle. It was in fact surer, because freer from the -deflections of religious motive. No consideration of agreement or -disagreement with Scripture troubled the glossators' interpretation of the -_Digest_, though indeed they may have been interested in finding support -for whatever political views they held upon the claims of emperor and -pope. But this did not disturb them as much as Aristotle's opinion that -the universe was eternal, worried Albertus and Aquinas. - - -IV - -The Church, from the time of its first recognition by the Roman Empire, -lived under the Roman law;[400] and the constitutions safeguarding its -authority were large and ample before the Empire fell. Constantine, to be -sure, never dreamed of the famous "Donation of Constantine" forged by a -later time, yet his enactments fairly launched the great mediaeval -Catholic Church upon the career which was to bring it more domination than -was granted in this pseudo-charter of its power. A number of Constantine's -enactments were preserved by the Theodosian Code, in which the powers and -privileges of Church and clergy were portentously set forth. - -The Theodosian Code freed the property of the Church from most fiscal -burdens, and the clergy from taxes, from public and military service, and -from many other obligations which sometimes the Code groups under the head -of _sordida munera_. The Church might receive all manner of bequests, and -it inherited the property of such of its clergy as did not leave near -relatives surviving them. Its property generally was inalienable; and the -clergy were accorded many special safeguards. Slaves might be manumitted -in a church. The church edifices were declared asylums of refuge from -pursuers, a privilege which had passed to the churches from the heathen -fanes and the statues of the emperors. Constitution after constitution was -hurled against the Church's enemies. The Theodosian Code has one chapter -containing sixty-six constitutions directed against heretics, the combined -result of which was to deprive them, if not of life and property, at least -of protected legal existence. - -Of enormous import was the sweeping recognition on the Empire's part of -the validity of episcopal jurisdiction. No bishop might be summoned before -a secular court as a defendant, or compelled to give testimony. Falsely to -accuse one of the clergy rendered the accuser infamous. All matters -pertaining to religion and church discipline might be brought only before -the bishop's court, which likewise had plenary jurisdiction over -controversies among the clergy. It was also open to the laity for the -settlement of civil disputes. The command not to go to law before the -heathen came down from Paul (1 Cor. vi.), and together with the severed -and persecuted condition of the early Christian communities, may be -regarded as the far source of the episcopal jurisdiction, which thus -divinely sanctioned tended to extend its arbitrament to all manner of -legal controversies.[401] To be sure, under the Christian Roman Empire -the authority of the Church as well as its privileges rested upon imperial -law. Yet the emperors recognized, rather than actually created, the -ecclesiastical authority. And when the Empire was shattered, there stood -the Church erect amid the downfall of the imperial government, and capable -of supporting itself in the new Teutonic kingdoms. - -The constitutions of Christian emperors did not from their own force and -validity become Ecclesiastical or Canon law--the law relating to -Christians as such, and especially to the Church and its functions. The -source of that law was God; the Church was its declarative organ. -Acceptance on the Church's part was requisite before any secular law could -become a law of the Church. - -Canon law may be taken to include theology, or may be limited to the law -of the organization and functions of the Church taken in a large sense as -inclusive of the laity in their relations to the religion of Christ.[402] -Obviously part comes from Christ directly, through the Old Testament as -well as New. The other part, and in bulk far greater, emanates from His -foundation, the Church, under the guidance of His Spirit, and may be added -to and modified by the Church from age to age. It is expressed in custom, -universal and established, and it is found in written form in the works of -the Fathers, in the decrees of Councils, in the decretals of the popes, -and in the concordats and conventions with secular sovereignties. From the -beginning, canon law tacitly or expressly adopted the constitutions of the -Christian emperors relating to the Church, as well as the Roman law -generally, under which the Church lived in its civil relations. - -The Church arose within the Roman Empire, and who shall say that its -wonderfully efficient and complete organization at the close of the -patristic period was not the final creation of the legal and constructive -genius of Rome, newly inspired by the spirit of Christianity? But the -centre of interest had been transferred from earth to heaven, and human -aims had been recast by the Gospel and the understanding of it reached by -Christian doctors. Evidently since the ideals of the Church were to be -other than those of the Roman Empire, the law which it accepted or evolved -would have ideals different from those of the Roman law. If the great -Roman jurists created a legal formulation and rendering of justice -adequate for the highly developed social and commercial needs of Roman -citizens, the law of the Church, while it might borrow phrases, rules, and -even general principles, from that system, could not fail to put new -meaning in them. For example, the constant will to render each his due, -which was _justitia_ in the Roman law, might involve different -considerations where the soul's salvation, and not the just allotment of -the goods of this world, was the law's chief aim. Again, what new meaning -might attach to the _honeste vivere_ and the _alterum non laedere_ of -pagan legal ethics. _Honeste vivere_ might mean to do no sin imperilling -the soul; _alterum non laedere_ would acquire the meaning of doing nothing -to another which might impede his progress toward salvation. Injuries to a -man in his temporalities were less important. - -Further, Christianity although conceived as a religion for all mankind, -was founded on a definite code and revelation. The primary statement was -contained in the canonical books of the Old and New Testaments. These were -for all men, universal in application and of irrefragable validity and -truth. Here was some correspondence to the conception of the _jus gentium_ -as representative of universal principles of justice and expediency, and -therefore as equivalent to the _jus naturale_. There was something of -logical necessity in the transference of this conception to the law of -Christ. Says Gratian at the beginning of his _Decretum_: "It is _jus -naturae_ which is contained in the Law and the Gospel, by which every one -is commanded to do to another as he would be done by, and forbidden to -inflict on him what he does not wish to happen to himself." Since the Law -and the Gospel represent the final law of life for all men, they are _par -excellence_ the _jus naturae_, as well as _lex divina_. Gratian quotes -from Augustine: "Divinum jus in scripturis divinis habemus, humanum in -legibus regum."[403] And then adds: "By its authority the _jus naturale_ -prevails over custom and constitution. Whatever in customs or writings is -contrary to the _jus naturale_ is to be held vain and invalid." Again he -says more explicitly: "Since therefore nothing is commanded by natural law -other than what God wills to be, and nothing is forbidden except what God -prohibits, and since nothing may be found in the canonical Scripture -except what is in the divine laws, the laws will rest divinely in nature -(_divine leges natura consistent_). It is evident, that whatever is proved -to be contrary to the divine will or canonical Scripture, is likewise -opposed to natural law. Wherefore whatever should give way before divine -will or Scripture or the divine laws, over that ought the _jus naturale_ -to prevail. Therefore whatever ecclesiastical or secular constitutions are -contrary to natural law are to be shut out."[404] - -The canon law is a vast sea. Its growth, its age-long agglomerate -accretion, the systematization of its huge contents, have long been -subjects for controversialists and scholars. Its sources were as -multifarious as those of the Roman law. First the Scriptures and the early -quasi-apostolic and pseudo-apostolic writings; then the traditions of -primitive Christianity and also the writings of the Fathers; likewise -ecclesiastical customs, long accepted and legitimate, and finally the two -great written sources, the decretals or decisions of the popes and the -decrees of councils. From patristic times collections were made of the -last. These collections from a chronological gradually acquired a topical -and more systemic arrangement, which the compilers followed more -completely after the opening of the tenth century. The decisions of the -popes also had been collected, and then were joined to conciliar -compilations and arranged after the same topical plan. - -In all of them there was unauthentic matter, accepted as if its -pseudo-authorship or pseudo-source were genuine. But in the stormy times -of the ninth century following the death of Charlemagne, the method of -argument through forged authority was exceptionally creative. It produced -two masterpieces which won universal acceptance. The first was a -collection of false Capitularies ascribed to Charlemagne and Louis the -Pious, and ostensibly the work of a certain Benedictus Levita, deacon of -the Church of Mainz, who worked in the middle of the century. Far more -famous and important was the book of _False Decretals_, put together and -largely written, that is forged, about the same time, probably in the -diocese of Rheims, and appearing as the work of Saint Isidore of Seville. -This contained many forged letters of the early popes and other forged -matter, including the Epistle or "Donation" of Constantine; also genuine -papal letters and conciliar decrees. These false collections were accepted -by councils and popes, and formed part of subsequent compilations. - -From the tenth century onward many such compilations were made, all of -them uncritical as to the genuineness of the matter taken, and frequently -ill-arranged and discordant. They were destined to be superseded by the -great work in which appears the better methods and more highly trained -intelligence developing at the Bologna School in the first part of the -twelfth century. Its author was Gratianus, a monk of the monastery of St. -Felix at Bologna. He was a younger contemporary of Irnerius and of Peter -Lombard. Legend made him the latter's brother, with some propriety; for -the compiler of those epoch-making _Sentences_ represents the same stage -in the appropriation of the patristic theological heritage of the Middle -Ages, that Gratian represents in the handling of the canon law. The -Lombard's _Sentences_ made a systematic and even harmonizing presentation -of the theology of the Fathers in their own language; and the equally -immortal _Decretum_ of Gratian accomplished a like work for the canon law. -This is the name by which his work is known, but not the name he gave it. -That appears to have been _Concordia discordantium canonum_, which -indicates his methodical presentation of his matter and his endeavour to -reconcile conflicting propositions. - -The first part of the _Decretum_ was entitled "De jure naturae et -constitutionis." It presents the sources of the law, the Church's -organization and administration, the ordination and ranking of the clergy, -the election and consecration of bishops, the authority of legates and -primates. The second part treats of the procedure of ecclesiastical -courts, also the law regulating the property of the Church, the law of -monks and the contract of marriage. The third part is devoted to the -Sacraments and the Liturgy. - -Gratian's usual method is as follows: He will open with an authoritative -proposition. If he finds it universally accepted, it stands as valid. But -if there are opposing statements, he tries to reconcile them, either -pointing out the difference in date (for the law of the Church may be -progressive), or showing that one of the discordant rules had but local or -otherwise limited application, or that the first proposition is the rule, -while the others make the exceptions. If he still fails to establish -concord, he searches to find which rule had been followed in the Roman -Church, and accepts that as authoritative. A rule being thus made certain, -he proceeds with subdivisions and distinctions, treating them as -deductions from the main rule and adjusting the supporting texts. Or he -will suppose a controversy (_causa_) and discuss its main and secondary -issues. Throughout he accompanies his authoritative matter with his own -commentary--commonly cited as the _Dicta Gratiani_.[405] The _Decretum_ -was characterized by sagacity of interpretation and reconcilement, by vast -learning, and clear ordering of the matter. Only it was uncritical as to -the genuineness of its materials; and a number of Gratian's own statements -were subsequently disapproved in papal decretals. The _Dicta Gratiani_ -never received such formal sanction by pope or council as the writings of -Roman jurists received by being taken into Justinian's _Digest_. - -The papal decretals had become the great source of canonical law. -Gratian's work was soon supplemented by various compilations known as -_Appendices ad Decretum_ or _Decretales extravagantes_, to wit, those -which the _Decretum_ did not contain. These, however, were superseded by -the collection, or rather codification, made at the command of the great -canonist Gregory IX. and completed in the year 1234. This authoritative -work preserved Gratian's _Decretum_ intact, but suppressed, or abridged -and reordered, the decretals contained in subsequent collections. Arranged -in five books, it forms the second part of the _Corpus juris canonici_. In -1298 Boniface VIII. promulgated a supplementary book known as the _Sextus_ -of Boniface. This with a new collection promulgated under the authority of -Clement V. in 1313, called the _Clementinae_, and the _Extravagantes_ of -his successor John XXII. and certain other popes, constitute the last -portions of the _Corpus juris canonici_.[406] - -According to the law of the Empire the emperor's authority extended over -the Church, its doctrine, its discipline, and its property. Such authority -was exercised by the emperors from Constantine to Justinian. But the -Church had always stood upon the principle that it was better to obey God -rather than man. This had been maintained against the power of the pagan -Empire, and was not to be sunned out of existence by imperial favour. It -was still better to obey God rather than the emperor. The Church still -should say who were its members and entitled to participate in the -salvation which it mediated. Ecclesiastical authorities could -excommunicate; that was their engine of coercion. These principles were -incarnate in Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, withstanding and prohibiting -Theodosius from Christian fellowship until he had done penance for the -massacre at Thessalonica. Of necessity they inhered in the Church; they -were of the essence of its strength to fulfil its purpose; they stood for -the duly constituted power of Christian resolution to uphold and advance -the peremptory truth of Christ. - -So such principles persisted through the time of the hostile and then the -favouring Roman Empire. And when the Empire in fact crumbled and fell, -what _de facto_ and _de jure_ authority was best fitted to take the place -of the imperial supremacy? The Empire represented a universal secular -dominion; the Church was also universal, and with a universality now -reaching out beyond the Empire's shrinking boundaries. In the midst of -political fragments otherwise disjoined, the Church endured as the -universal unity. The power of each Teutonic king was great in fact and law -within his realm. Yet he was but a local potency, while the Church existed -through his and other realms. And when the power of one Teutonic line (the -Carolingian) reached something like universal sway, the Church was also -there within and without. It held the learning of the time, and the -culture which large-minded seculars respected; and quite as much as the -empire of Charlemagne, it held the prestige of Rome. Witness the attitude -of Charles Martel and Pippin toward Boniface the great apostle, and the -attitude of Boniface toward the Gregories whose legate he proclaimed -himself, and upon whose central authority he based his claims to be -obeyed. Through the reforms of the Frankish Church, carried out by him -with the support of Charles Martel and Pippin, the ecclesiastical -supremacy of Rome was established. Charlemagne, indeed, from the nature -and necessities of his own transcendent power, possessed in fact the -ecclesiastical authority of the Roman emperors, whom men deemed his -predecessors. But after him the secular power fell again into fragments -scarcely locally efficient, while the Church's universality of authority -endured. - -In the unstable fragmentation of secular rule in the ninth century, the -Isidorean _Decretals_ presented the truth of the situation as it was to -be, although not as it had been in the times of the Church dignitaries -whose names were forged for that collection. And thereafter, as the Church -recovered from its tenth-century disintegration, it advanced to the -pragmatic demonstration of the validity of those false _Decretals_, on -through the tempests of the age of Hildebrand to the final triumph of -Innocent III. at the opening of the thirteenth century. Evidently the -canon law, whatever might be its immediate or remote source, drew its -authority from the sanction of the Roman Catholic Church, which enunciated -it and made it into a body corresponding to the Church's functions. It was -what the Church promulgated as the law of the ecclesiastical hierarchy and -the kingdom of God on earth. It should be the temporal and legal -counterpart of the Church's spiritual purposes. Its general tendency and -purpose was the promotion of the Church's saving aim, which regarded all -things in the light of their relationship to life eternal. Therefore the -Church's law could not but define and consider all worldly interests, all -personal and property rights and secular authority, with constant regard -to men's need of salvation. The advancement of that must be the final -appellate standard of legal right. - -Such was the event. The entire canon law might be lodged within those -propositions which Hildebrand enunciated and Innocent III. realized. For -the salvation of souls, all authority on earth had been entrusted by -Christ to Peter and his successors. Theirs was the spiritual sword; -secular power, the sword material, was to be exercised under the pope's -mandate and permission. No king or emperor, no layman whatsoever, was -exempt from the supreme authority of the pope, who also was the absolute -head of the Church, which had become a monarchy. "The Lord entrusted to -Peter not only the universal Church, but the government of the whole -world," writes Innocent III., whose pontificate almost made this principle -a fact. In private matters no member of the clergy could be brought before -a secular court; and the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts over -the laity threatened to reduce the secular jurisdiction to narrow -functions.[407] The property of the Church might not be taxed or levied on -by any temporal ruler or government; nor could the Church's functions and -authority be controlled or limited by any secular decree. Universally -throughout every kingdom the Church was a sovereignty, not only in matters -spiritual, but with respect to all the personal and material -relationships that might be connected in any way with the welfare of -souls.[408] - - -V - -The exposition of the _Corpus juris civilis_ in the school of the -glossators was of great moment in the evolution of _mediaeval political -theory_, which in its turn yields one more example of the mediaeval -application of thoughts derived from antique and patristic sources. -Political thinking in the Middle Ages sought its surest foundation in -theology; then it built itself up with concepts drawn from the philosophy -and social theory of the antique world; and lastly it laid hold on -jurisprudence, using the substance and reasoning of the Roman and the -Canon law. - -Mediaeval ideas upon government and the relations between the individual -and his earthly sovereign, started from theological premises, of patristic -origin: _e.g._ that the universe and man were made by God, a miraculous -creation, springing from no other cause, and subject to no other -fundamental law, than God's unsearchable will, which never ceases to -direct the whole creation to the Creator's ends. A further premise was the -Scriptural revelation of God's purpose as to man, with all the contents of -that revelation touching the overweening importance of man's deathless -soul. - -Unity--the unity of the creation--springs from these premises, or is one -of them. The principle of this unity is God's will. Within the universal -whole, mankind also constitutes a unit, a community, specially ordained -and ordered. The Middle Ages, following the example of the patristic time, -were delivered over to allegory, and to an unbridled recognition of the -deductions of allegorical reasoning. Mankind was a community. Mankind was -also an organism, the mystical body whereof the head was Christ. Here was -an allegory potent for foolishness or wisdom. It was used to symbolize -the mystery of the oneness of all mankind in God, and the organic -co-ordination of all sorts and conditions of men with one another in the -divine commonwealth on earth; it was also drawn out into every detail of -banal anthropomorphic comparison. From John of Salisbury to Nicholas -Cusanus, Occam and Dante, no point of fancied analogy between the parts -and members of the body and the various functions of Church and State was -left unexploited.[409] - -Mankind then is one community; also an organism. But within the human -organism abides the duality of soul and body; and the Community of Mankind -on earth is constituted of two orders, the spiritual and temporal, Church -and State.[410] There must be either co-ordination between State and -Church, body and soul, or subordination of the temporal and material to -the eternal and spiritual. To evoke an adjustment of what was felt to be -an actually universal opposition, was the chief problem of mediaeval -polity, and forms the warp and woof of conflicting theories. The Church -asserted a full spiritual supremacy even in things temporal, and, to -support the claim, brought sound arguments as well as foolish -allegory--allegory pretending to be horror-stricken at the vision of an -animal with two heads, a bicephalic monstrosity. But does not the Church -comprise all mankind? Did not God found it? Is not Christ its head, and -under Him his vicegerent Peter and all the popes? Then shall not the pope -who commands the greater, which is the spiritual, much more command the -less, the temporal? And all the argumentation of the two swords, delivered -to Peter, comes into play. That there are two swords is but a propriety of -administration. Secular rulers wield the secular sword at the pope's -command. They are instruments of the Church. Fundamentally the State is -an ecclesiastical institution, and the bounds of secular law are set by -the law spiritual: the canon law overrides the laws of every State. True, -in this division, the State also is ordained of God, but only as -subordinate. And divinely ordained though it be, the origin of the State -lies in sin; for sin alone made government and law needful for man.[411] - -On the other hand, the partisans of the State upheld co-ordination as the -true principle.[412] The two swords represent distinct powers, Sacerdotium -and Imperium. The latter as well as the former is from God; and the two -are co-ordinates, although of course the Church which wields the spiritual -sword is the higher. This theory creates no bicephalic monster. God is the -universal head. And even as man is body as well as soul, the human -community is State as well as Church; and the State needs the emperor for -its head, as the Church has the pope. The Roman Dominion, _imperium -mundi_, was legitimate, and by divine appointment has passed over to the -Roman-German emperor. Other views sustaining the scheme of co-ordination -upheld a plurality of states, rather than one universal Imperium. Of -course these opposing views of subordination or co-ordination of State and -Church took on every shade of diversity. - -As to both Church and State, mediaeval political theory was predominantly -monarchical. Ideally this flowed from the thought of God as the true -monarch of the universe. Practically it comported with mediaeval social -conditions. Under Innocent III., if not under Gregory VII., the Church had -become a monarchy well-nigh absolute.[413] The pope's power continued -plenary until the great schism and the age of councils evoked by it. For -the secular state, the common voice likewise favoured monarchy. The unity -of the social organism is best effected by the singleness of its head. -Thomas Aquinas authoritatively reasons thus, and Dante maintains that as -the unifying principle is Will, the will of one man is the best means to -realize it.[414] But monarchy is no absolute right existing for the -ruler's benefit, rather it is an office to be righteously exercised for -the good of the community. The monarch's power is limited, and if his -command outrages law or right, it is a nullity; his subjects need not -obey, and the principle applies, that it is better to obey God than man. -Even when, as in the days of the Hohenstaufen, the civil jurists claimed -for the emperor the _plenitudo potestatis_ of a Roman Caesar, the opposite -doctrine held strong, which gave him only a limited power, in its nature -conditioned on its rightful exercise. - -Moreover, rights of the community were not unrecognized, and indeed were -supported by elaborate theories as the Middle Ages advanced to their -climacteric. The thought of a contract between ruler and people frequently -appears, and reference to the contract made at Hebron between David and -the people of Israel (2 Sam. v. 3). The civil jurist also looked back to -the principle of the _jus gentium_ giving to every free people the right -to choose a ruler; also to that famous text of the _Digest_, where, -through the _lex regia_, the people were said to have conferred their -powers upon the princeps.[415] With such thoughts of the people's rights -came theories of representation and of the monarch as the people's -representative; and Roman corporation law supplied the rules for mediaeval -representative assemblies, lay and clerical.[416] - -The old Germanic state was a conglomerate of positive law and specific -custom, having no existence beyond the laws, which were its formative -constituents. Such a conception did not satisfy mediaeval publicists, -imbued with antique views of the State's further aims and potency. Nor -were all men satisfied with the State's divinely ordered origin in human -sinfulness. An ultimate ground for its existence was sought, commensurate -with its broadest aims. Such was found, not in positive, but in natural -law--again an antique conception. That a veritable natural law existed, -all men agreed; also that its source lay back of human conventions, -somehow in the nature of God. All admitted its absolute supremacy, binding -alike upon popes and secular monarchs, and rendering void all acts and -positive laws contravening it. It must be the State's ultimate constituent -ground. - -God was the source of natural law. Some argued that it proceeded from His -will, as a command, others that its source was eternal Reason announcing -her necessary and unalterable dictates; again its source was held to lie -more definitely in the Reason that was identical with God the _summa ratio -in Deo existens_, as Aquinas puts it. From that springs the _Lex -naturalis_, ordained to rest on the participation of man, as a rational -creature, in the moral order which he perceives by the light of natural -reason. This _lex naturalis_ (or _jus naturale_) is a true promulgated -law, since God implants it for recognition in the minds of men.[417] -Absolute unconditional supremacy was ascribed to it, and also to the _jus -divinum_, which God revealed supernaturally for a supramundane end. A -cognate supremacy was ascribed to the _jus commune gentium_, which was -composed of rules of the _jus naturale_ adapted to the conditions of -fallen human nature. - -Such law was above the State, to which, on the other hand, positive law -was subject. Whenever the ruler was conceived as sovereign or absolute, he -likewise was deemed above positive law, but bound by these higher laws. -They were the source and sanction of the innate and indestructible rights -of the individual, to property and liberty and life as they were -formulated at a later period. It is evident how the recognition of such -rights fell in with the Christian revelation of the absolute value of -every individual in and for himself and his immortal life. On the other -hand, certain rights of the State, or the community, were also -indestructible and inalienable by virtue of the nature of their source in -natural law.[418] - -This abstract of political theory has been stated in terms generalized to -vagueness, and with no attempt to follow the details or trace the -historical development. The purpose has been to give the general flavour -of mediaeval thought concerning Church and State, and the Individual as a -member of them both. One observes how the patristic and mediaeval -Christian thought mingles with the antique; and one may assume the -intellectual acumen applied by legist, canonist, and scholastic theologian -to the discussion and formulation of these high arguments. The mediaeval -genius for abstractions is evident, and the mediaeval faculty of linking -them to the affairs of life; clear also is the baneful effect of mediaeval -allegory. Even as men now-a-days are disposed to rest in the apparent -reality of the tangible phenomenon, so the mediaeval man just as commonly -sought for his reality in what the phenomenon might be conceived to -symbolize. Therefore in the higher political controversies, even as in -other interests of the human spirit, argument through allegory was -accepted as legitimate, if not convincing; and a proper sequence of -thought was deemed to lie from one symbolical meaning to another, with -even a deeper validity than from one palpable fact to that which followed -from it. - - - - -BOOK VII - -ULTIMATE INTELLECTUAL INTERESTS OF THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -SCHOLASTICISM: SPIRIT, SCOPE, AND METHOD - - -The religious philosophy or theology of the Middle Ages is commonly called -scholasticism, and its exponents are called the scholastics. The name -applies most properly to the respectable academic thinkers. These, in the -early Middle Ages, usually were monks living in monasteries, like St. -Anselm, for instance, who was Abbot of Bec in Normandy before, to his -sorrow, he was made Archbishop of Canterbury. In the thirteenth century, -however, while these respected thinkers still were monks, or rather -mendicant friars, they were also university professors. Albertus Magnus -and St. Thomas Aquinas, the great Dominicans, and their friend St. -Bonaventura, who became the head of the Franciscan Order, all lectured at -the University of Paris, the chief university of the Middle Ages in the -domain of philosophy and theology. Moreover, as the scholastics were -respectable and academic, so they were usually orthodox Churchmen, good -Roman Catholics. The conduct or opinions of some of them, Abaelard for -example, became suspect to the Church authorities; yet Abaelard, although -his book had been condemned, kept within the Church's pale, and died a -monk of Cluny. There were plenty of obdurate heretics in the Middle Ages; -but their bizarre ideas, sometimes coming down from Manichaean sources, -were scarcely germane to the central lines of mediaeval thought.[419] - -One hears of scholastic philosophy and scholastic theology; and assuredly -these mediaeval theologian-philosophers endeavoured to distinguish between -the one and the other phase of the matters which occupied their minds. The -distinction was intelligibly drawn and, in many treatises, doubtless -affected the choice and ordering of topics. Whether it was consistently -observed in the handling of those topics, is another question, which -perhaps should be answered in the negative. At all events, to attempt to -observe this distinction in considering the ultimate intellectual -interests of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, might sap the matter of -the human interest attaching to it, to wit, that interest and validity -possessed by all serious effort to know--and to be saved. These were the -motives of the scholastics, whether they used their reason, or clung to -revelation, or did both, as they always did. - -Mediaeval methods of thinking and topics of thought are no longer in -vogue. For the time, men have turned from the discussion of universals and -the common unity or separate individuality of mind, and are as little -concerned with transubstantiation as with the old dispute over -investitures. But the scholastics were men and so are we. Our humanity is -one with theirs. Men are still under the necessity of reflecting upon -their own existence and the world without, and still feel the need to -reach conclusions and the impulse to formulate consistently what seem to -them vital propositions. Herein we are blood kin to Gerbert and Anselm, to -Abaelard and Hugo of St. Victor, to Thomas Aquinas as well as Roger Bacon: -and our highest nature is one with theirs in the intellectual fellowship -of human endeavour to think out and present that which shall appease the -mind. Because of this kinship with the scholastics, and the sympathy which -we feel for the struggle which is the same in us and them, their -intellectual endeavours, their achieved conclusions, although now -appearing as but apt or necessitated phrases, may have for us the immortal -interest of the eternal human. - -Let us then approach mediaeval thought as man meets man, and seek in it -for what may still be valid, or at least real to us, because agreeing with -what we find within ourselves. Being men as well as scholars, we would win -from its parchment-covered tomes those elements which if they do not -represent everlasting verities, are at least symbols of the permanent -necessities of the human mind. Whatever else there is in mediaeval -thought, as touching us less nearly, may be considered by way of -historical setting and explanation. - -In different men the impulse to know bears different relationships to the -rest of life. It sometimes seems self-impelled, and again palpably -inspired by a motive beyond itself. In some form, however, it winds itself -into every action of our mental faculties, and no province of life appears -untouched by this craving of the mind. Nevertheless to know is not the -whole matter; for with knowledge comes appetition or aversion, admiration -or contempt, love or abhorrence; and other impulses--emotional, -desiderative, loving--impel the human creature to realize its nature in -states of heightened consciousness that are not palpable modes of knowing, -though they may be replete with all the knowledge that the man has gained. - -These ultimate cravings which we recognize in ourselves, inspired -mediaeval thought. Its course, its progress, its various phases, its -contents and completed systems, all represent the operation of human -faculty pressing to expression and realization under the accidental or -"historical" conditions of the mediaeval period. We may be sure that many -kinds of human craving and corresponding faculty realized themselves in -mediaeval philosophy, theology, piety and mysticism--the last a word used -provisionally, until we succeed in resolving it into terms of clearer -significance. And we also note that in these provinces, realization is -expression. Every faculty, every energy, in man seeks to function, to -realize its power in act. The sheer body--if there be sheer body--acts -bodily, operates, and so makes actual its powers. But those human energies -which are informed with mind, realize themselves in ardent or rational -thought, or in uttered words, or in products of the artfully devising -hand. All this clearly is expression, and corresponds, if it is not one -and the same, with the passing of energy from potency to the actuality -which is its end and consummation. Thus love, seeking its end, thereby -seeks expression, through which it is enhanced, and in which it is -realized. Likewise, impelled by the desire to know, the faculties of -cognition and reason realize themselves in expression; and in expression -each part of rational knowledge is clarified, completed, rendered -accordant with the data of observation and the laws or necessities of the -mind. - -Human faculties form a correlated whole; and this composite human nature -seeks to act, to _function_. Thus the whole man strives to realize the -fullest actuality of his being, and satisfy or express the whole of him, -and not alone his reason, nor yet his emotions, or his appetites. This -uttermost realization of human being--man's _summum bonum_ or _summa -necessitas_--cannot unite the incompatible within its synthesis. It must -be kept a consistent ideal, a possible whole. Here the demiurge is the -discriminating and constructive intelligence, which builds together the -permanent and valuable elements of being, and excludes whatever cannot -coexist in concord with them. Yet the intelligence does not always set its -own rational activities as man's furthest goal of realization. It may -place love above reason. And, of course, its discriminating judgment will -be affected by current knowledge and by dominant beliefs as to man and his -destiny, the universe and God. - -Manifestly whatever the thoughtful idealizing man in any period (and our -attention may at once focus itself upon the Middle Ages) adjudges to -belong to the final realization of his nature, will become an object of -intellectual interest for him; and he will deem it a proper subject for -study and meditation. The rational, spiritual, or even physical elements, -which may enter and compose this, his _summum bonum_, represent those -intellectual interests which may be termed ultimate, for the very reason, -that they relate to what the thinker deems his beatitude. These ultimate -intellectual interests possess an absolute sanction, for the lack of which -whatever lies outside of them tends to adjudge itself vain. - -The philosophy, theology, and the profoundly felt and reasoned piety, of -the twelfth and thirteenth centuries made up that period's ultimate -intellectual interests. We are not concerned with other matters occupying -its attention, save as they bore on man's supreme beatitude, which was -held to consist in his everlasting salvation and all that might constitute -his bliss in that unending state. The elements of this blessedness were -not deemed to lie altogether in rational cognition and its processes; for -the conception of the soul's beatitude was catholic; and while with some -men the intellectual elements were dominant, with others salvation's -summit was attained along the paths of spiritual emotion. - -Obviously, from the side of the emotions, there could come no large and -lasting happiness, unless emotional desire and devotion were directed to -that which might also satisfy the mind, or at all events, would not -conflict with its judgment. Hence the emotional side of the ultimate -mediaeval ideal was pietistic; because the mediaeval dogmatic faith -regarded the emotional impulses between one human being and another as -distracting, if not wicked. Such mortal impulses were so very difficult to -harmonize with the eternal beatitude which consisted in the cognition and -love of God. This principle was proclaimed by monks and theologians, or -philosophers; it was even recognized (although not followed) in the -literature which glorified the love of man and woman, but in which the -lover-knight so often ends a hermit, and the convent at last receives his -sinful mistress. On the other hand, reason, with its practical and -speculative knowledge, is sterile when unmixed with piety and love. This -is the sum of Bonaventura's fervid arguments, and is as clearly, if more -quietly, recognized by Aquinas, with whom _fides_ without _caritas_ is -_informis_, formless, very far indeed from its true actuality or -realization. - -Thus, for the full realization of man's highest good in everlasting -salvation, the two complementary phases of the human spirit had to act and -function in concord. Together they must realize themselves in such -catholic expression as should exclude only the froward or evil elements, -non-elements rather, of man's nature. Both represent ultimate mediaeval -interests and desires; and perhaps deep down and very intimately, even -inscrutably, they may be one, even as they clearly are complementary -phases of the human soul. Yet with certain natures who perhaps fail to -hold the balance between them, the two phases seem to draw apart, or, at -least, to evince themselves in distinct expression, and indeed in all men -they are usually distinguishable. - -Generally speaking, the conception of man's divinely mediated salvation, -and of the elements of human being which might be carried on, and realized -in a state of everlasting beatitude, prescribed the range of ultimate -intellectual interests for the Middle Ages. The same had been despotically -true of the patristic period. Augustine would know God and the soul; -Ambrose expressed equally emphatic views upon the vanity of all knowledge -that did not contribute to an understanding of the Christian Faith. This -view was held with temperamental and barbarizing narrowness by Gregory the -Great. It was admitted, as of course, throughout the Carolingian period, -although humanistically-minded men played with the pagan literature. Nor -was it seriously disputed in the eleventh or twelfth century, when men -began to delight in dialectic, and some cared for pagan literature; nor -yet in the thirteenth when an increasing number were asking many things -from philosophy and natural knowledge, which had but distant bearing on -the soul's salvation. One of these men was Roger Bacon, whose scientific -studies were pursued with ceaseless energy. But he could also state -emphatically the principle of the worthlessness of whatever does not help -men to understand the divine truths by which they are saved. In Bacon's -time, the love of knowledge was enlarging its compass, while, really or -nominally as the individual case might be, the criterion of relevancy to -the Faith still obtained, and set the topics with which men should occupy -themselves. All matters of philosophy or natural science had to relate -themselves to the _summum bonum_ of salvation in order to possess ultimate -human interest. Therefore, if philosophy was to preserve the strongest -reason for its existence, it had to remain the handmaid of theology. -Still, to be sure, the conception of man's beatitude would become more -comprehensive with the expansion and variegation of the desire for -knowledge. - -As the _summum bonum_ of salvation prescribed the topics of ultimate -intellectual interest for the Middle Ages, so the stress which it laid -upon one topic rather than another tended to direct their ordering or -classification, as well as the proportion of attention devoted to each -one. Likewise the form or method of presentation was controlled by the -authority of the Scriptural statement of the way and means of salvation, -and the well-nigh equally authoritative interpretation of the same by the -beatified Fathers. Thus the nature of the _summum bonum_ and the character -of its Scriptural statement and patristic exposition suggested the -arrangement of topics, and set the method of their treatment in those -works of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries which afford the most -important presentations of the ultimate intellectual interests of that -time. Obvious examples will be Abaelard's _Sic et non_ and his -_Theologia_, Hugo of St. Victor's _De sacramentis_, the Lombard's _Books -of Sentences_, and the _Summa theologiae_ of Thomas Aquinas. - -It will be seen in the next chapter that the arrangement of topics in -these comprehensive treatises differed from what would have been evolved -through the requirements of a systematic presentation of human knowledge. -Aquinas sets forth the reasons why one mode of treatment is suitable to -philosophy and another to sacred science, and why the latter may omit -matters proper for the former, or treat them from another point of view. -The supremacy of sacred science is incidentally shown by the argument. In -his _Contra Gentiles_[420] chapter four, book second, bears the title: -"Quod aliter considerat de creaturis Philosophus et aliter Theologus" -("That the philosopher views the creation in one way and the theologian in -another"). In the text he says: - - "The science (_doctrina_) of Christian faith considers creatures so - far as there may be in them some likeness of God, and so far as error - regarding them might lead to error in things divine.... Human - philosophy considers them after their own kind, and its parts are so - devised as to correspond with the different classes (_genera_) of - things; but the faith of Christ considers them, not after their own - kind, as for example, fire as fire, but as representing the divine - altitude.... The philosopher considers what belongs to them according - to their own nature; the believer (_fidelis_) regards in creatures - only what pertains to them in their relationship to God, as that they - are created by Him and subject to Him. Wherefore the science of the - Faith is not to be deemed incomplete, if it passes over many - properties of things, as the shape of the heaven or the quality of - motion.... It also follows that the two sciences do not proceed in the - same order. With philosophy, which regards creatures in themselves, - and from them draws on into a knowledge of God, the first - consideration is in regard to the creatures and the last is as to God. - But in the science of faith, which views creatures only in their - relationship to God (_in ordine ad Deum_), the first consideration is - of God, and next of the creatures." - -Obviously _sacra doctrina_, which is to say, _theologia_, proceeds -differently from _philosophia humana_, and evidently it has to do with -matters of ultimate importance, and therefore of ultimate intellectual -interest. The passage quoted from the _Contra Gentiles_ may be taken as -introductory to the more elaborate statement at the beginning of his -_Summa theologiae_, where Thomas sets forth the principles by which _sacra -doctrina_ is distinguished from the _philosophicae disciplinae_, to wit, -the various sciences of human philosophy: - - "It was necessary to human salvation that there should be a science - (_doctrina_) according with divine revelation, besides the - philosophical disciplines which are pursued by human reason. Because - man was formed (_ordinatur_) toward God as toward an end exceeding - reason's comprehension. That end should be known to men, who ought to - regulate their intentions and actions toward an end. Wherefore it was - necessary for salvation that man should know certain matters through - revelation, which surpass human reason." - -Thomas now points out that, on account of many errors, it also was -necessary for man to be instructed through divine revelation as to those -saving truths concerning God which human reason was capable of -investigating. He next proceeds to show that _sacra doctrina_ is science. - - "But there are two kinds of sciences. There are those which proceed - from the principles known by the natural light of the mind, as - arithmetic and geometry. There are others which proceed from - principles known by the light of a superior science: as perspective - proceeds from principles made known through geometry, and music from - principles known through arithmetic. And _sacra doctrina_ is science - in this way, because it proceeds from principles known by the light of - a superior science or knowledge which is the knowledge belonging to - God and the beatified. Thus as music believes the principles delivered - to it by arithmetic, so sacred doctrine believes the principles - revealed to it from God." - -The question then is raised whether _sacra doctrina_ is one science, or -many. And Thomas answers, that it is one, by reason of the unity of its -formal object. For it views everything discussed by it as divinely -revealed; and all things which are subjects of revelation (_revelabilia_) -have part in the formal conception of this science; and so are -comprehended under _sacra doctrina_, as under one science. Nevertheless it -extends to subjects belonging to various departments of knowledge so far -as they are knowable through divine illumination. As some of these may be -practical and some speculative, it follows that sacred science includes -both the practical and the speculative, even as God with the same -knowledge knows himself and also the things He makes. - - "Yet this science is more speculative than practical, because on - principle it treats of divine things rather than human actions, which - it treats in so far as man by means of them is directed (_ordinatur_) - to perfect cognition of God, wherein eternal beatitude consists. This - science in its speculative as well as practical functions transcends - other sciences, speculative and practical. One speculative science is - said to be worthier than another, by reason of its certitude, or the - dignity of its matter. In both respects this science surpasses other - speculative sciences, because the others have certitude from the - natural light of human reason, which may err; but this has certitude - from the light of the divine knowledge, which cannot be deceived; - likewise by reason of the dignity of its matter, because primarily it - relates to matters too high for reason, while other sciences consider - only those which are subjected to reason. It is worthier than the - practical sciences, which are ordained for an ulterior end; for so far - as this science is practical, its end is eternal beatitude, unto which - as an ulterior end all other ends of the practical sciences are - ordained (_ordinantur_). - - "Moreover although this science may accept something from the - philosophical sciences, it requires them merely for the larger - manifestation of the matters which it teaches. For it takes its - principles, not from other sciences, but immediately from God through - revelation. So it does not receive from them as from superiors, but - uses them as servants. Even so, it uses them not because of any defect - of its own, but because of the defectiveness of our intellect which is - more easily conducted (_manuducitur_) by natural reason to the things - above reason which this science teaches." - -Thomas now shows, with scholastic formalism, that God is the _subjectum_ -of this science; since all things in it are treated with reference to God -(_sub ratione Dei_), either because they are God himself, or because they -bear relationship (_habent ordinem_) to God as toward their cause and end -(_principium et finem_). The final question is whether this science be -_argumentativa_, using arguments and proofs; and Thomas thus sets forth -his masterly solution: - - "I reply, it should be said that as other sciences do not prove their - first principles, but argue from them in order to prove other matters, - so this science does not argue to prove its principles, which are - articles of Faith, but proceeds from them to prove something else, as - the Apostle, in 1 Corinthians xv., argues from the resurrection of - Christ to prove the resurrection of us all. One should bear in mind - that in the philosophic sciences the lower science neither proves its - own first principles nor disputes with him who denies them, but leaves - that to a higher science. But the science which is the highest among - them, that is metaphysics, does dispute with him who denies its - principles, if the adversary will concede anything; if he concede - nothing it cannot thus argue with him, but can only overthrow his - arguments. Likewise _sacra Scriptura_ (or _doctrina_ or sacred - science, theology), since it owns no higher science, disputes with him - who denies its principles, by argument indeed, if the adversary will - concede any of the matters which it accepts through revelation. Thus - through Scriptural authorities we dispute against heretics, and adduce - one article against those who deny another. But if the adversary will - give credence to nothing which is divinely revealed, sacred science - has no arguments by which to prove to him the articles of faith, but - has only arguments to refute his reasonings against the Faith, should - he adduce any. For since faith rests on infallible truth, its contrary - cannot be demonstrated: manifestly the proofs which are brought - against it are not proofs, but controvertible arguments. - - "To argue from authority is most appropriate to this science; for its - principles rest on revelation, and it is proper to credit the - authority of those to whom the revelation was made. Nor does this - derogate from the dignity of this science; for although proof from - authority based on human reason may be weak, yet proof from authority - based on divine revelation is most effective. - - "Yet sacred science also makes use of human reason; not indeed to - prove the Faith, because this would take away the merit of believing; - but to make manifest other things which may be treated in this - science. For since grace does not annul nature, but perfects it, - natural reason should serve faith, even as the natural inclination - conforms itself to love (_caritas_). Hence sacred science uses the - philosophers also as authority, where they were able to know the truth - through natural reason. It uses authorities of this kind as extraneous - arguments having probability. But it uses the authorities of the - canonical Scriptures arguing from its own premises and with certainty. - And it uses the authorities of other doctors of the Church, as arguing - upon its own ground, yet only with probability. For our faith rests - upon the revelation made to the Apostles and Prophets, who wrote the - canonical books; and not upon the revelation, if there was any, made - to other doctors."[421] - -Mediaeval thought was beset behind and before by the compulsion of its -conditions. Its mighty antecedents lived in it, and wrought as moulding -forces. Well we know them, two in number, the one, of course, the antique -philosophy; the other, again of course, the dogmatic Christian Faith, -itself shot through and through with antique metaphysics, in the terms of -which it had been formulated. These two, very dual and yet joined, -antagonistic and again united, constituted the form-giving principles of -mediaeval thinking. They were, speaking in scholastic phrase, the -substantial as well as accidental forms of mediaeval theology, philosophy, -and knowledge. Which means that they set the lines of mediaeval theology -or philosophy, and caused the one and the other to be what it became, -rather than something else; and also that they supplied the knowledge -which mediaeval men laboured to acquire, and attempted to adjust their -thinking to. Thus, through the twelfth, the thirteenth, and the fourteenth -centuries, they remained the inworking formal causes of mediaeval thought; -while, on the other hand, the moving and efficient causes (still speaking -in scholastic-Aristotelian phrase) were the human impulses which those -formal causes moulded, or indeed suggested, and the faculties which they -trained. - -The patristic system of dogma with the antique philosophy, set the forms -of mediaeval expression, fixed the distinctive qualities of mediaeval -thought, furnished its topics, and even necessitated its problems--in two -ways: First, through the specific substance which passed over and filled -the mediaeval productions; and secondly, simply by reason of the existence -of such a vast authoritative body of antique and patristic opinion, -knowledge, dogma, which the Middle Ages had to accept and master, and -beyond which the substance of mediaeval thinking was hardly destined to -advance. - -The first way is obvious enough, inasmuch as patristic and antique matter -palpably make the substance of mediaeval theology and philosophy. The -second is less obvious, but equally important. This mass of dogma, -knowledge, and opinion, existed finished and complete. Men imperfectly -equipped to comprehend it were brought to it by the conviction that it was -necessary to their salvation, and then gradually by the persuasion also -that it offered the only means of intellectual progress. The struggle to -master such a volume of knowledge issuing from a more creative past, gave -rise to novel problems, or promoted old ones to a novel prominence. The -problem of universals was taken directly from the antique dialectic. It -played a monstrous rôle in the twelfth century because it was in very -essence a fundamental problem of cognition, of knowing, and so pressed -upon men who were driven by the need to master continually unfolding -continents of thought.[422] This is an instance of a problem transmitted -from the past, but blown up to extraordinary importance by mediaeval -intellectual conditions. So throughout the whole scholastic range, -attitude and method alike are fixed by the fact that scholasticism was -primarily an appropriation of transmitted propositions. - -In considering the characteristics of mediaeval thought, it is well to -bear in mind these diverse ways in which its antecedents made it what it -was: through their substance transmitted to it; through the receptive -attitude forced upon men by existing accumulations of authoritative -doctrine, and the method entailed upon mediaeval thought by its scholastic -rather than originative character. Also one will not omit to notice which -elements came from the action of the patristic body of antecedents, rather -than from the antique group, and _vice versa_. - -Since the antique and patristic constituted well-nigh the whole substance -of philosophy and theology in the Middle Ages, a separate consideration of -what was thus transmitted would amount to a history of mediaeval thought -from a somewhat unilluminating point of view. On the other hand, one may -learn much as to the qualities of mediaeval thought from observing the -attitudes of various men in successive centuries toward Greek philosophy -and patristic theology. The Fathers had used the concepts of the former in -the construction of their systems of acceptance of the Christian Faith. -But the spirit of inquiry from which Greek philosophy had sprung, was very -different from the spirit in which the Fathers used its concepts and -arguments, in order to substantiate what they accepted on the authority of -Scripture and tradition. It is true that Greek philosophy in the -Neo-Platonism of Porphyry and Iamblicus was not far from the patristic -attitude toward knowledge. But the spirit of these declining moods of -Neo-Platonism was not the spirit which had carried the philosophy of the -Greeks to its intellectual culmination in Plato and Aristotle, and to -its attainment of the ethically rational in Stoicism and the system of -Epicurus. - -Thus patristic thinking was essentially different in purpose and method -from the philosophy which it forced to serve its uses; and the two -differed by every difference of method, spirit, and intent which were -destined to appear among the various kinds of mediaeval thinkers. But the -difference between Greek philosopher and Church Father was deeper than any -that ever could exist among mediaeval men. Some of the last might be -conventionally orthodox and passionately pious, while others cared more -distinctly for the fruits of knowledge. But even these could not be as -Greek philosophers, because they were accustomed to rely on authority, and -because they who drew their knowledge from an existing store would not -have the independence and originality distinguishing the Greeks, who had -created so much of that store from which they drew.[423] Moreover, while -neither Plato's inquiry for truth, nor Aristotle's catholic search for -knowledge, was isolated from its bearing on either the conduct or the -event of life, nevertheless with them rational inquiry was a final motive -representing in itself that which was most divinely human, and so the best -for man.[424] But with the philosophers of the Middle Ages, it never was -quite so. For the need of salvation had worked in men's blood for -generations. And salvation, man's highest good, did not consist in -humanly-attained knowledge or in virtue won by human strength; but was -divinely mediated and had to be accepted upon authority. Hence, even in -the great twelfth and thirteenth centuries, intellectual inquiry was never -unlimbered from bands of deference, nor ever quite dispassionately -rational or unaffected by the mortal need to attain a salvation which was -bestowed or withheld by God according to His plan authoritatively -declared. - -Accordingly all mediaeval variances of thought show common similitudes: to -wit, some consciousness of need of super-rational and superhuman -salvation; deference to some authority; and finally a pervasive -scholasticism, since mediaeval thought was of necessity diligent, -acceptant, reflective, rather than original. One will be impressed with -the formal character of mediaeval thought. For being thus scholastic, it -was occupied with devising forms through which to express, or re-express, -the mass of knowledge proffered to it. Besides, formal logic was a -prominent part of the transmitted contents of antique philosophy; and -became a chief discipline for mediaeval students; because they accepted it -along with all the rest, and found its training helpful for men burdened -with such intellectual tasks as theirs. - -Within the lines of these universal qualities wind the divergencies of -mediaeval thought; and one will notice how they consist in leanings toward -the ways of Greek philosophy, or a reliance more or less complete upon the -contents and method of patristic theology. One common quality, of which we -note the variations, is that of deference to the authority of the past. -The mediaeval scholar could hardly read a classic poet without finding -authoritative statements upon every topic brushed by the poet's fancy, and -of course the matter of more serious writings, history, logic, natural -science, was implicitly accepted. If the pagan learning was thus regarded, -how much more absolute was the deference to sacred doctrine. Here all was -authority. Scripture was the primary source; next came the creed, and the -dogmas established by councils; and then the expositions of the Fathers. -Thus the meaning of the authoritative Scripture was pressed into -authoritative dogma, and then authoritatively systematized. The process -had been intellectual and rational, yet with the driven rationality of -Church Fathers struggling to formulate and express the accepted import of -the Faith delivered to the saints. Authority, faith, held the primacy, and -in two senses, for not only was it supreme and final, but it was also -prior in initiative efficiency. Tertullian's _certum est, quia impossibile -est_, was an extreme paradox. But Augustine's _credimus ut cognoscamus_ -was fundamental, and remained unshaken. Anselm lays it at the basis of his -arguments; with Bernard and many others it is _credo_ first of all, let -the _intelligere_ come as it may, and as it will according to the fulness -of our faith. The same principle of faith's efficient primacy is -temperamentally as well as logically fundamental with Bonaventura. - -Here then was a first general quality of mediaeval thought: deference to -authority. Now for the variances. Scarcely diverging, save in emphasis, -from Augustine and Bonaventura, are the greatest of the schoolmen, Albert -and Thomas. They defer to authority and recognize the primacy of faith, -and yet they will, with abundant use of reason, deliminate the respective -provinces of grace and human knowledge, and distinguish the absolute -authority of Scripture from the statements even of the saints, which may -be weighed and criticized. In secular philosophy, these two will, when -their faith admits, accept the views of the philosophers--Aristotle above -all--yet using their own reason. They are profoundly interested in -knowledge and metaphysical dialectic, but follow it with deferential -tempers and believing Christian souls. - -Outside the company of such, are men of more independent temper, whose -attitude tends to weaken the principle of acceptance of authority in -sacred doctrine. The first of these was Eriugena with his explicit -statement that reason is greater than authority; yet we may assume that he -was not intending to impugn Scripture. Centuries later another chief -example is Abaelard, whose dialectic temper leads him to wish to prove -everything by reason. Not that he stated, or would have admitted this; yet -the extreme rationalizing tendency of the man is projected through such a -passage as the following from his _Historia calamitatum_, where he alludes -to the circumstances of the composition of his work upon the Trinity. He -had become a monk in the monastery of St. Denis, but students were still -thronging to hear him, to the wrath of some of his superiors. - - "Then it came about that I was brought to expound the very foundation - of our faith by applying the analogies of human reason, and was led to - compose for my pupils a theological treatise on the divine Unity and - Trinity. They were calling for human and philosophical arguments, and - insisting upon something intelligible, rather than mere words, saying - that there had been more than enough of talk which the mind could not - follow; that it was impossible to believe what was not understood in - the first place; and that it was ridiculous for any one to set forth - to others what neither he nor they could rationally conceive - (_intellectu capere_)." - -And Abaelard cites the verse from Matthew about the blind leaders of the -blind, and goes on to tell of the success of his treatise, which pleased -everybody, yet provoked the greater envy because of the difficulty of the -questions which it elucidated; and at last envy blew up the condemnation -of his book, at the Council of Soissons, in the year of grace 1121.[425] - -Here one has the plain reversal. We must first understand in order to -believe. Doubtless the demands of Abaelard's students to have the -principles of the Christian Faith explained, that they might be understood -and accepted rationally, echoed the master's imperative intellectual need. -Not that Abaelard would breathe the faintest doubt of these verities; they -were absolute and unquestionable. He accepted them upon authority just as -implicitly (he might think) as St. Bernard. Herein he shows the mediaeval -quality of deference. But he will understand with his mind the profoundest -truths enunciated by authority; he will explain them rationally, that the -mind may rationally comprehend them. - -Men of an opposite cast of mind foresaw the outcome of this -rationalization of dogma more surely than the subtle dialectician for whom -this process was both peremptory and proper. And the Church acted with a -true instinct in condemning Abaelard in spite of his protestations of -belief, just as with a like true instinct Friar Bacon's own Franciscan -Order looked askance on one whose mind was suspiciously set upon -observation and experiment--and cavilling at others. _Celui-ci tuera -cela!_ The ultra-scientific spirit is dangerous to faith--and Bacon's -asseverations that no knowledge was of value save as it helped the soul's -salvation, was doubtless regarded as a conventional insincerity. Yet Roger -Bacon had his mediaeval deferences, as will appear.[426] - -Neither one extreme view nor the other was to represent the attitude of -thoughtful and believing Christendom; not William of St. Thierry and St -Bernard, nor yet (on these points) Abaelard and Friar Bacon should -prevail; but the all-balancing and all-considering Aquinas. He will draw -the lines between faith and reason, and bulwark them with arguments which -shall seem to render unto reason the things of reason, and unto faith its -due. Yet it is actually Roger Bacon who accuses Thomas of making his -_Theology_ out of dialectic and very human reasonings. It was true; and we -are again reminded how variant views shaded into each other in the Middle -Ages, and all within certain lines of similarity. Practically all -mediaeval thinkers defer to authority--more or less; and all hold to some -principle of faith, to the necessity of _believing_ something, for the -soul's salvation. There is likewise some similarity in their attitudes -toward intellectual interests. For all recognized their propriety, and -gave credit to the human desire to know. Likewise all saw that salvation, -the _summum bonum_ for man, included more than intellection; and felt that -it held some consummation of other human impulses; that it held love--the -love of God along with the intellectual ardour of contemplation; and -well-nigh all recognized also that the faith held mystery, not to be -solved by reason. Thus all were rational--some more, some less; and all -were devotional and believing, pietistic, ardent--some more, some less; -according as the intellectual nature dominated over the emotional, or the -emotions quelled the conscious exercise of reason, yet reached out and -upward from what knowledge and reason had given as a base to spring from. - -Thus the mediaeval spirit, variant within its lines of likeness; and of a -piece with it was the field it worked in, which made its range and scope. -Here as well, a saving knowledge of God and the soul was central and chief -among all intellectual interests. None denied this. Augustine, the -universal prototype of the mediaeval mind, had cried, "God and the soul, -these will I know, and these are all." But wide had been the scope of -_his_ knowledge of God and the soul; and in the centuries which hung upon -his words, wide also was the range of knowledge subsumed under those -capitals. How would one know God and the soul? Might one not know God in -all His universe, in the height and breadth thereof, and backwards and -forwards through the reach of time? Might not one also know the soul in -all its operations, all its queries and desires; would not it and they, -and their activities, make up the complementary side of -knowledge--complementary to the primal object, God, known in His eternity, -in His temporal creation, in His everlasting governance? Wide or narrow -might be the intellectual interests included within a knowledge of God and -the soul. And while many men kept close to the centre and saving _nexus_ -of these potentially universal themes, others might become absorbed with -data of the creature-world, or with the manifold actions of the mind of -man, so as to forget to keep all duly ordered and connected with the -central thought. - -So the search for knowledge might roam afield. Likewise as to its motive; -practically with many men it was, in itself, a joy and end; although they -might continue to connect this end formally with the salvation of the -soul. Roger Bacon of a surety was such a one. Another was Albertus Magnus. -The laborious culling of twenty tomes of universal knowledge surely had -the joy of knowing as the active motive. And Aquinas too; no one could be -such an acquisitive and reasoning genius, without the love of knowledge in -his soul. Yet Thomas never let this love point untrue to its goal of -research and devotion, to wit, sacred doctrine, theology, the Christian -Faith in its very widest compass, yet in its unity of saving purpose. - -In Thomas Aquinas the certitude of faith, the sense of grace, the ardour -of love, never quenched the conscious action of the reasoning and knowing -mind; nor did reasoning quench devotion. A balance too, though perhaps -with one scale higher than the other, was kept by Bonaventura, whose mind -had reason's faculty, but whose heart burned perpetually toward God. -Another rationally ardent soul was Bonaventura's intellectual forerunner, -Hugo of St. Victor. In these men intellect did not outstrip the fervours -of contemplation. But such catholic balance did not hold with Abaelard and -Bacon, who lacked the pietistic temperament. With others, conversely, the -strength of the pietistic and emotional nature overbore the intellect; -the mind was less exacting; and devotional ardour used reason solely for -its purposes. The mightiest of these were Bernard and Francis. To the same -key might chime the woman, St. Hildegard of Bingen. We narrow down from -these to hectic souls content with a few thoughts which serve as a basis -for the heart's fervours. - -The varying attitudes of mediaeval thinkers toward reason and authority, -and even their different views upon the limits of the field of salutary -knowledge, are exemplified in their methods, or rather in the variations -of their common method. Here the factors were again authority and the -intellect which considers the authority, and in terms of its own rational -processes reacts upon the proposition under view. The intellect might -simply accept authority; or, on the other hand, it might, through -dialectic, seek a conclusion of its own. But midway between a mere -acceptance of authority, and the endeavour of dialectic for a conclusion -of its own, there is the reasoning process which perceives divergence -among authorities, compares, discriminates, interprets, and at last acts -as umpire. This was the combined and catholic scholastic method. It -contained the two factors of its necessary duality; and its variations -(besides the gradual perfecting of its form from one generation to -another) consisted in the predominant employment of one factor or the -other. - -The beginning was in the Carolingian time, when Rabanus compiled his -authorities from sources sacred and profane, scarcely discriminating -except to maintain the pre-eminence of the sacred matter. His younger -contemporary, Eriugena, was a translator of his own chief source, -Pseudo-Dionysius, him of the _Hierarchies_, Celestial and Ecclesiastical. -Yet he composed also a veritable book, _De divisione naturae_, in which he -put his matter together organically and with argument. And while -professing to hold to the authority of Scripture and the Fathers, he not -only took upon himself to select from their statements, but propounded the -proposition that the authority which is not confirmed by reason appears -weak. Eriugena made his authorities yield him what his reason required. -His argumentative method became an independent rehandling of matter drawn -from them. It was very different from the plodding excerpt-gathering of -Rabanus. - -We pass down the centuries to Anselm. Contemplative and religious, his -reverence for authority was unimpaired by any conscious need to refashion -its meaning. Though he possessed creative intellectual powers, they were -incited and controlled by his deep piety. Hence his works were constructed -of original and lofty arguments, but such as did not infringe upon either -the efficient or the final priority of faith. - -With Abaelard of many-sided fame the duality of method becomes explicit, -and is, if one may say so, set by the ears. On the one hand, he advances -in his constructive theological treatises toward a portentous application -of reason to explain the contents of the Christian Faith; on the other, -somewhat sardonically, he devises a scheme for the employment and -presentation of authorities upon these sacred matters, a scheme so -obviously apt that once made known it could not but be followed and -perfected. - -The divers works of a man are likely to bear some relation and resemblance -to each other. Abaelard was a reasoner, more specifically speaking, a -dialectician according to the ways of Aristotelian logic. And in -categories of formal logic he sought to rationalize every matter -apprehended by his mind. Swayed by the master-interest of the time, he -turned to theology; and his own nature impelled him to apply a -constructive dialectic to its systematic formulation. The result is -exemplified in the extant portion of his _Theologia_ (mis-called -_Introductio ad Theologiam_), which was condemned by the Council of Sens -in 1141, the year before the master's death. The spirit of this work -appears in the passage already quoted from the _Historia calamitatum_, -referring to what was substantially an earlier form of the -_Theologia_.[427] The _Theologia_ argues for a free use of dialectic in -expounding dogma, especially in order to refute those heretics who will -not listen to authority, but demand reasons. Like Abaelard's previous -theological treatises, it is filled with citations of authority, -principally Augustine; and the reader feels the author's hesitancy to -reveal that dialectic is the architect. Nor, in fact, is the work an -exclusively dialectic structure; yet it illustrates (if it does not always -inculcate) the application of the arguments of human reason to the -exposition and substantiation of the fundamental and most deeply hidden -contents of the Christian Faith. Obviously Abaelard was not an initiator -here. Augustine had devoted his life to fortifying the Faith with argument -and explanation; Eriugena, with a far weaker realization of its contents, -had employed a more distorting metaphysics in its presentation; and -saintly Anselm had flown his veritable eagle flights of reason. But -Abaelard's more systematic work represents a further stage in the -application of independent dialectic to dogma, and an innovating freedom -in the citation of pagan philosophers to demonstrate its philosophic -reasonableness. Nevertheless his statement that he had gathered these -citations from writings of the Fathers, and not from the books of the -philosophers (_quorum pauca novi_),[428] shows that he was only using what -the Fathers had made use of before him, and also indicates the slightness -of his independent knowledge of Greek philosophy. - -On the other hand, Abaelard's way of presenting authorities for and -against a theological proposition was more distinctly original. He seems -to have been the first purposefully to systematize the method of stating -the problem, and then giving in order the authorities on one side and the -other--_sic et non_; as he entitled his famous work. But the trail of his -nature lay through this apparently innocent composition, the evident -intent of which was to emphasize, if not exaggerate, the opposition among -the patristic authorities, and without a counterbalancing attempt to show -any substantial accord among them. This, of course, is not stated in the -Prologue, which however, like everything that Abaelard wrote, discloses -his fatal facility of putting his hand on the raw spot in the matter; -which unfortunately is likely to be the vulnerable point also. In it he -remarks on the difficulty of interpreting Scripture, upon the corruption -of the text (a perilous subject), and the introduction of apocryphal -writings. There are discrepancies even in the sacred texts, and -contradictions in the writings of the Fathers. With a profuse backing of -authority he shows that the latter are not to be read _cum credendi -necessitate_, but _cum judicandi libertate_. Assuredly, as to anything in -the canonical Scriptures, "it is not permitted to say: 'The Author of this -book did not hold the truth'; but rather 'the codex is false or the -interpreter errs, or thou dost not understand.' But in the works of the -later ones (_posteriorum_, Abaelard's inclusive designation of the -Fathers), which are contained in books without number, if passages are -deemed to depart from the truth, the reader is at liberty to approve or -disapprove." - -This view was supported by Abaelard's citations from the Fathers -themselves; and yet, so abruptly made, it was not a pleasant statement for -the ears of those to whom the writings of the holy Fathers were sacred. -Nothing was sacred to the man who wrote this prologue--so it seemed to his -pious contemporaries. And who among them could approve of the Prologue's -final utterance upon the method and purpose of the book? - - "Wherefore we decided to collect the diverse statements of the holy - Fathers, as they might occur to our memory, thus raising an issue from - their apparent repugnancy, which might incite the _teneros lectores_ - to search out the truth of the matter, and render them the sharper for - the investigation. For the first key to wisdom is called - interrogation, diligent and unceasing.... By doubting we are led to - inquiry; and from inquiry we perceive the truth." - -To use the discordant statements of the Fathers to sharpen the wits of the -young! Was not that to uncover their shame? And the character of the work -did not salve the Prologue's sting. Abaelard selected and arranged his -extracts from pagan as well as Christian writers, and prepared sardonic -titles for the questions under which he ordered his material. Time and -again these titles flaunt an opposition which the citations scarcely bear -out. For example, title iv.: "Quod sit credendum in Deum solum, et -contra"--certainly a flaming point; yet the excerpts display merely the -verb _credere_, used in the palpably different senses borne by the word -"believe." There is no real repugnancy among the citations. And again, in -title lviii.: "Quod Adam salvatus sit, et contra"--there is no citation -_contra_. And the longest chapter in the book (cxvii.) has this bristling -title: "De sacramento altaris, quod sit essentialiter ipsa veritas carnis -Christi et sanguinis, et contra." - -Because of such prickly traits the _Sic et non_ did not itself come into -common use. But the suggestions of its method once made, were of too -obvious utility to be abandoned. First, among Abaelard's own pupils the -result appears in _Books of Sentences_, which, in the arrangement of their -matter, followed the topical division not of the _Sic et non_, but of -Abaelard's _Theologia_, with its threefold division of Theology into -_Fides_, _Caritas_, and _Sacramentum_.[429] But the arrangement of the -_Theologia_ was not made use of in the best and most famous of these -compositions, Peter Lombard's _Sententiarum libri quatuor_. This work -employed the method (not the arrangement) of the _Sic et non_, and -expounded the contents of Faith methodically, "Distinctio" after -"Distinctio," stating the proposition, citing the authorities bearing upon -it, and ending with some conciliating or distinguishing statement of the -true result. In canon law the same method was applied in Gratian's -_Decretum_, of which the proper name was _Concordia discordantium -canonum_. - -These _Books of Sentences_ have sometimes been called _Summae_, inasmuch -as their scope embraced the entire contents of the Faith. But the term -_Summa_ may properly be confined to those larger and still more -encyclopaedic compositions in which this scholastic method reached its -final development. The chief makers of these, the veritable _Summae -theologiae_, were, in order of time, Alexander of Hales, Albertus Magnus, -and Thomas Aquinas. The _Books of Sentences_ were books of sentences. The -_Summa_ proceeded by the same method, or rather issued from it, as its -consummation and perfect logical form; thus the scholastic method arrived -at its highest constructive energy. In the _Sentences_ one excerpted -opinion was given and another possibly divergent, and at the end an -adjustment was presented. This comparative formlessness attains in the -_Summa_ a serried syllogistic structure. Thomas, who finally perfects it, -presents his connected and successive topics divided into _quaestiones_, -which are subdivided into _articuli_, whose titles give the point to be -discussed. He states first, and frequently in his own syllogistic terms, -the successive negative arguments; and then the counter-proposition, which -usually is a citation from Scripture or from Augustine. Then with clear -logic he constructs the true positive conclusion in accordance with the -authority which he has last adduced. He then refutes each of the adverse -arguments in turn. - -Thus the method of the _Sentences_ is rendered dialectically organic; and -with the perfecting of the form of _quaestio_ and _articulus_, and the -logical linking of successive topics, the whole composition, from a -congeries, becomes a structure, organic likewise, a veritable _Summa_, and -a _Summa_ of a science which has unity and consistency. This science is -_sacra doctrina, theologia_. Moreover, as compared with the _Sentences_, -the contents of the _Summa_ are enormously enlarged. For between the time -of the Lombard and that of Thomas, there has come the whole of Aristotle, -and what is more, the mastery of the whole of Aristotle, which Thomas -incorporates in a complete and organic statement of the Christian scheme -of salvation.[430] - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV - -CLASSIFICATION OF TOPICS; STAGES OF EVOLUTION - - I. PHILOSOPHIC CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES; THE ARRANGEMENT OF - VINCENT'S ENCYCLOPAEDIA, OF THE LOMBARD'S _Sentences_, OF - AQUINAS'S _Summa theologiae_. - - II. THE STAGES OF DEVELOPMENT: GRAMMAR, LOGIC, METALOGICS. - - -I - -Having considered the spirit, the field, and the dual method, of mediaeval -thought, there remain its classifications of topics. The problem of -classification presented itself to Gerbert as one involved in the rational -study of the ancient material.[431] But as scholasticism culminated in the -twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the problem became one of arrangement -and presentation of the mass of knowledge and argument which the Middle -Ages had at length made their own, and were prepared to re-express. This -ordering was influenced by a twofold principle of classification; for, as -abundantly shown by Aquinas,[432] theology in which all is ordered with -reference to God, will properly follow an arrangement of topics quite -unsuitable to the natural or human sciences, which treat of things with -respect to themselves. But the mediaeval practice was more confused than -the theory; because the interest in human knowledge was apt to be touched -by motives sounding in the need of divine salvation; and speculation could -not free itself of the moving principles of Christian theology. On the -other hand, an enormous quantity of human dialectic, and a prodigious mass -of what strikes us as profane information, or misinformation, was carried -into the mediaeval _Summa_, and still more into those encyclopaedias, -which attempted to include all knowledge, and still were influenced in -their aim by a religious purpose.[433] - -As the human sciences came from the pagan antique, the accepted -classifications of them naturally were taken from Greek philosophy. They -followed either the so-called Platonic division, into Physics, Ethics, and -Logic,[434] or the Aristotelian division of philosophy into theoretical -and practical. The former scheme, of which it is not certain that Plato -was the author, passed on through the Stoic and Epicurean systems of -philosophy, was recognized by the Church Fathers, and received Augustine's -approval. It was made known to the Middle Ages through Cassiodorus, -Isidore, Alcuin, Rabanus, Eriugena and others. - -Nevertheless the Aristotelian division of philosophy into theoretical and -practical was destined to prevail. It was introduced to the western Middle -Ages through Boëthius's Commentary on Porphyry's _Isagoge_,[435] and -adopted by Gerbert; later it passed over through translations of Arabic -writings. It was accepted by Hugo of St. Victor, by Albertus Magnus and by -Thomas, to mention only the greatest names; and was set forth in detail -with explanation and comment in a number of treatises, such as -Gundissalinus's _De divisione philosophiae_, and Hugo of St. Victor's -_Eruditio didascalica_,[436] which were formal and schematic introductions -to the study of philosophy and its various branches. - -The usual subdivisions of these two general parts of philosophy were as -follows. Theoretica (or _Theorica_) was divided into (1) Physics, or -_scientia naturalis_, (2) Mathematics, and (3) Metaphysics or Theology, or -_divina scientia_, as it might be called. Physics and Mathematics were -again divided into more special sciences. _Practica_ was divided commonly -into Ethics, Economics, Politics, or into Ethics and _Artes mechanicae_. -There was a difference of opinion as to what to do with Logic. It had, to -be sure, its position in the current Trivium, along with grammar and -rhetoric. But this was merely current, and might not approve itself on -deeper reflection. Gundissalinus speaks of three propaedeutic sciences, -the _scientiae eloquentiae_, grammar, poetics, and rhetoric, and then puts -Logic after them as a _scientia media_ between these primary educational -matters and philosophy, _i.e._ the whole range of knowledge, theoretical -and practical. Again, over against _philosophia realis_, which contains -both the _theoretica_ (or _speculativa_) and the _practica_, Thomas -Aquinas sets the _philosophia rationalis_, or logic; and Richard Kilwardby -opposes _logica_, the _scientia rationalis_, to _practica_, in his -division.[437] - -The last-named philosopher was the pupil and then the hostile critic of -Aquinas, and also became Archbishop of Canterbury. He was the author of a -careful and elaborate classification of the parts of philosophy, entitled -_De ortu et divisione philosophiae_.[438] In it, following the broad -distinction between _res divinae_ and _res humanae_, Kilwardby divides -philosophy into _speculativa_ and _practica_. _Speculativa_ is divided -into _naturalis_ (physics), _mathematica_, and _divina_ (metaphysics). He -does not divide the first and third of these; but he divides _mathematica_ -into those sciences which treat of quantity in continuity and separation -respectively (_quantitas continua_ and _quantitas discreta_). The former -embrace geometry, astronomy and astrology, and perspective; the latter, -music and arithmetic. _Practica_, which is concerned with _res humanae_, -is divided into _activa_ and _sermocinalis_: because _res humanae_ consist -either of _operationes_ or _locutiones_. The _activa_ embraces Ethics and -mechanics; the _scientia sermocinalis_ embraces grammar, logic, and -rhetoric. Such are Kilwardby's bare captions; his treatise lengthily -treats of the interrelations of these various branches of knowledge. - -An idea of the scholastic discussion of the classification of sciences may -be had by following Albertus Magnus's ponderous approach to a -consideration of logic: whether it be a science, and, if so, what place -should be allotted it. We draw from the opening of his _liber_ on the -_Predicables_,[439] that is to say, his exposition of Porphyry's -Introduction. Albert will consider "what kind of a science (_qualis -scientia_) logic may be, and whether it is any part of philosophy; what -need there is of it, and what may be its use; then of what it treats, and -what are its divisions." The ancients seem to have disagreed, some saying -that logic is no science, since it is rather a _modus_ (mode, manner or -method) of every science or branch of knowledge. But these, continues -Albertus, have not reflected that although there are many sciences, and -each has its special _modus_, yet there is one _modus_ common to all -sciences, pertaining to that which is common to them all: the principle, -to wit, that through reason's inquiry, from what is known one arrives at -knowledge of the unknown. This mode or method common to every science may -be considered in itself, and so may be the subject of a special science. -After further balancing of the reasons and authorities _pro_ and _con_, -Albertus concludes: - - "It is therefore clear that logic is a special science just as in - ironworking there is the special art of making a hammer, yet its use - pertains to everything made by the ironworker's craft. So this process - of discovering the unknown through the known, is something special, - and may be studied as a special art and science; yet the use of it - pertains to all sciences." - -He next considers whether logic is a part of philosophy. Some say no, -since there are (as they say) only three divisions of philosophy, physics, -mathematics, and metaphysics; others say that logic is a _modus_ of -philosophy and not one of its divisions. But, on the contrary, it is shown -by others that this view of philosophy omits the practical side, for -philosophy's scope comprehends the truth of everything which man may -understand, including the truth of that which is in ourselves, and strives -to comprehend both truth and the process of advancing from the known to a -knowledge of the unknown. These point out that - - "... the Peripatetics divided philosophy first into three parts, to - wit, into _physicam generaliter dictam_, and _ethicam generaliter - dictam_ and _rationalem_ likewise taken broadly. I call _physica - generaliter dicta_ that which embraces _scientia naturalis_, - _disciplinalis_, and _divina_ (_i.e._ physics in a narrower sense, - mathematics which is called _scientia disciplinalis_, and metaphysics - which is _scientia divina_). And I call _ethica_, that which, broadly - taken, contains the _scientia monastica_, _oeconomica_ and _civilis_. - And I call that the _scientia rationalis_, broadly taken, which - includes every mode of proceeding from the known to the unknown. From - which it is evident that logic is a part of philosophy." - -And finally it may be shown that - - "if anything is within the scope of philosophy it must be that without - which philosophy cannot reach any knowledge. He who is ignorant of - logic can acquire no perfect cognition of the unknown, because he is - ignorant of the way in which he should proceed from the known to the - unknown." - -From these latter arguments, approved by him and in part stated as his -own, Albertus advances to a classification of the parts of logic, which he -makes to include rhetoric, poetics, and dialectic, and to be -demonstrative, sophistical or disputatious, according to the use to which -logic (broadly taken) is applied and the manner in which it may in each -case proceed, in advancing from the known to some farther ascertainment or -demonstration.[440] Soon after this, in discussing the subject of this -science, Albertus points out how logic differs from rhetoric and poetics, -although with them it may treat of _sermo_, or speech, and be called a -_scientia sermonalis_; for, unlike them, it treats of _sermo_ merely as a -means of drawing conclusions, and not in and for itself. - -From the purely philosophical division of the sciences we pass to the -hybrid arrangement adopted by Vincent of Beauvais, who died in 1264. This -man was a prodigious devourer of books, and for a sufficient pabulum, St. -Louis set before him his collection of twelve hundred volumes. Thereupon -Vincent compiled the most famous of mediaeval encyclopaedias, employing in -that labour enormous diligence and a number of assistants. His ponderous -_Speculum majus_ is drawn from the most serviceable sources, including the -works of Albertus, his contemporary, and great scholastics like Hugo of -St. Victor, who were no more. It consisted of the _Speculum naturale_, -_doctrinale_, and _historiale_; and a fourth, the _Speculum morale_, was -added by a later hand.[441] Turning its leaves, and reading snatches here -and there, especially from its Prologues, we shall gain a sufficient -illustration of the arrangement of topics followed by this writer, whose -faculties seem to drown in his shoreless undertaking.[442] - -In his turgid _generalis prologus_ to the _Speculum naturale_, Vincent -presents his motives for collecting in one volume - - "... certain flowers according to my modicum of faculty, gathered from - every one I have been able to read, whether of our Catholic Doctors or - the Gentile philosophers and poets. Especially have I drawn from them - what seemed to pertain either to the building up of our dogma, or to - moral instruction, or to the incitement of charity's devotion, or to - the mystic exposition of divine Scripture, or to the manifest or - symbolical explanation of its truth. Thus by one grand _opus_ I would - appease my studiousness, and perchance, by my labours, profit those - who, like me, try to read as many books as possible, and cull their - flowers. Indeed of making many books there is no end, and neither is - the eye of the curious reader satisfied, nor the ear of the auditor." - -He then refers to the evils of false copying and the ascription of -extracts to the wrong author. And it seems to him that Church History has -been rather neglected, while men have been intent on expounding knotty -problems. And now considering how to proceed and group his various -matters, Vincent could find no better method than the one he has chosen, -"to wit, that after the order of Holy Scripture, I should treat first of -the Creator, next of the creation, then of man's fall and reparation, and -then of events (_rebus gestis_) chronologically." He proposes to give a -summary of titles at the end of the work. Sometimes he may state as his -own, things he has had from his teachers or from very well-known books; -and he admits that he did not have time to collate the _gesta martyrum_, -and so some of the abstracts which he gives of these are not by his own -hand, but by the hand of scribes (_notariorum_). - -Vincent proposes to call the whole work _Speculum majus_, a Speculum -indeed, or an _Imago mundi_, "containing in brief whatever, from -unnumbered books, I have been able to gather, worthy of consideration, -admiration, or imitation _as to things which have been made or done or -said in the visible or invisible world from the beginning until the end, -and even of things to come_." He briefly adverts to the utility of his -work, and then gives his motive for including history. This he thinks will -help us to understand the story of Christ; and from a perusal of the wars -which took place "before the advent of our pacific King, the reader will -perceive with what zeal we should fight against our spiritual foes, for -our salvation and the eternal glory promised us." From the great slaughter -of men in many wars, may be realized also the severity of God against the -wicked, who are slain like sheep, and perish body and soul.[443] - -As to nature, Vincent says: - - "Moreover I have diligently described the nature of things, which, I - think, no one will deem useless, who, in the light of grace, has read - of the power, wisdom and goodness of God, creator, ruler and - preserver, in that same book of the Creation appointed for us to - read." - -Moreover, to know about things is useful for preachers and theologians, as -Augustine says. But Vincent is conscious of another motive also: - - "Verily how great is even the humblest beauty of this world, and how - pleasing to the eye of reason diligently considering not only the - modes and numbers and orders of things, so decorously appointed - throughout the universe, but also the revolving ages which are - ceaselessly uncoiled through abatements and successions, and are - marked by the death of what is born. I confess, sinner as I am, with - mind befouled in flesh, that I am moved with spiritual sweetness - toward the creator and ruler of this world, and honour Him with - greater veneration, when I behold at once the magnitude, and beauty - and permanence of His creation. For the mind, lifting itself from the - dunghill of its affections, and rising, as it is able, into the light - of speculation, sees as from a height the greatness of the universe - containing in itself infinite places filled with the divers orders of - creatures." - -Here Vincent feels it well to apologize for the limitlessness of his -matter, being only an excerptor, and not really knowing even a single -science; and he refers to the example of Isidore's _Etymologiae_. He -proceeds to enumerate the various sources upon which he relies, and then -to summarize the headings of his work; which in brief are as follows: - - The Creator. - - The empyrean heaven and the nature of angels; the state of the good, - and the ruin of the proud, angels. - - The formless material and the making of the world, and the nature and - properties of each created being, according to the order of the Works - of the Six Days. - - The state of the first man. - - The nature and energies of the soul, and the senses and parts of the - human body. - - God's rest and way of working. - - The state of the first man and the felicity of Paradise. - - Man's fall and punishment. - - Sin. - - The reparation of the Fall. - - The properties of faith and other virtues in order, and the gifts of - the Holy Spirit, and the beatitudes. - - _The number and matter of all the sciences._ - - _Chronological history of events in the world, and memorable sayings, - from the beginning to our time_, with a consideration of the state of - souls separated from their bodies, of the times to come, of - Antichrist, the end of the World, the resurrection of the dead, the - glorification of the saints and the punishments of the wicked. - -One may stand aghast at the programme. Yet practically all of it would go -into a _Summa theologiae_, excepting the human history, and the matter of -what we should call the arts and sciences! A programme like this might be -handled summarily, according to the broad captions under which it is -stated; or it might be carried out in such detail as to include all -available information, or opinion, touching every part of every topic -included under these universal heads. The latter is Vincent's way. -Practically he tries to include all knowledge upon everything. The first -of his tomes (the _Speculum naturale_) is to be devoted to a full -description of the forms and species of created beings, which make up the -visible world. Yet it includes much relating to beings commonly invisible; -for Vincent begins with a treatment of the angels. He then passes to a -consideration of the seven heavens; and then to the physical phenomena of -nature; then on to every known species of plant, the cultivation of trees -and vines, and the making of wine; then to the celestial bodies, and after -this to living things, birds, fishes, savage beasts, reptiles, the anatomy -of animals,--and at last comes to man. He discusses him body and soul, his -psychology, and the phenomena of sleep and waking; then human anatomy--nor -can he keep from considerations touching the whole creation; then human -generation, and a description of the countries and regions of the earth, -with a brief compendium of history until the time of Antichrist and the -Last Judgment. Of course he is utterly uncritical, even the -pseudo-Turpin's fictions as to Charlemagne serving him for authority. - -Vincent's Prologue to his second tome, the _Speculum doctrinale_, briefly -mentions the topics of the _tota naturalis historia_, contained in his -first giant tome. In that he had brought his matter down to God's creation -of _humana natura, omnium rerum finis ac summa_--and its spoliation -(_destitutio_) through sin. _Humana natura_ as constituted by God, was a -_universitas_ of all nature or created being, corporeal and spiritual. Now - - "in this second part, in like fashion we propose to treat of the - plenary restitution of that destitute nature.... And since that - restitution, or restoration, is effected and perfected by _doctrina_ - (imparted knowledge, science), this part not improperly is called the - _Speculum doctrinale_. For of a surety everything pertaining to - recovering or defending man's spiritual or temporal welfare - (_salutem_) is embraced under _doctrina_. In this book, the sciences - (_doctrinae_) and arts are treated thus: First concerning all of them - in general, to wit, concerning their invention, origin, and species; - and concerning the method of acquiring them. Then concerning the - singular arts and sciences in particular. And here first concerning - those of the Trivium, which are devoted to language (grammar, - rhetoric, logic); for without these, the others cannot be learned or - communicated. Next concerning the practical ones (_practica_), because - through them, the eyes of the mind being clarified, one ascends to the - speculative (_theorica_). Then also concerning the mechanical ones; - since, as they consist in making (_operatio_), they are joined by - affinity to the _practica_. Finally concerning the speculative - sciences (_theorica_), because the end and aim (_finis_) of all the - rest is placed by the wise in them. And since (as Jerome says) one - cannot know the power (_vis_) of the antidote unless the power of the - poison first is understood, therefore to the _reparatio doctrinalis_ - of the human race, the subject of the book, something is prefixed as a - brief epilogue from the former book, concerning the fall and misery of - man, in which he still labours, as the penalty for his sin, in - lamentable exile." - -So Vincent begins with the fall and misery of man; the _peccatum_ and the -_supplicium_. Then he proceeds to discuss the goods (_bona_) which God -bestows, like the mental powers, by which man may learn wisdom, and how to -strive against error and vice, and be overcome solely by the desire of the -highest and immutable good. He speaks also of the corporeal goods bestowed -on man, and the beauty and utility of visible things; and then of the -principal evils;--ignorance which corrupts the divine image in man, -concupiscence which destroys the divine similitude, sickness which -destroys his original bodily immortality. "And the remedies are three by -which these three evils may be repelled, and the three goods restored, to -wit, Wisdom, Virtue, and Need." - -Here we touch the gist of the ordering of topics in the _Speculum -doctrinale_, which treats of all the arts and sciences: - - "For the obtaining of these three remedies every art and every - _disciplina_ was invented. In order to gain Wisdom, _Theorica_ was - devised; and _Practica_ for the sake of virtue; and for Need's sake, - _Mechanica_. _Theorica_ driving out ignorance, illuminates Wisdom; - _Practica_ shutting out vice, strengthens Virtue; _Mechanica_ - providing against penury, tempers the infirmities of the present life. - _Theorica_, in all that is and that is not, chooses to investigate the - true. _Practica_ determines the correct way of living and the form of - discipline, according to the institution of the virtues. _Mechanica_ - occupied with fleeting things, strives to provide for the needs of the - body. For the end and aim of all human actions and studies, which - reason regulates, ought to look either to the reparation of the - integrity of our nature or to alleviating the needs to which life is - subjected. The integrity of our nature is repaired by Wisdom, to which - _Theorica_ relates, and by Virtue, which _Practica_ cultivates. Need - is alleviated by the administration of temporalities, to which - _Mechanica_ attends. Last found of all is Logic, source of eloquence, - through which the wise who understand the aforesaid principal sciences - and disciplines, may discourse upon them more correctly, truly and - elegantly; more correctly, through Grammar; more truly through - Dialectic; more elegantly through Rhetoric."[444] - -Thus the entire round of arts and sciences is connected with man's -corporeal and spiritual welfare, and is made to bear directly or -indirectly on his salvation. All constitutes _doctrina_, and by _doctrina_ -man is saved. This is the reason for including the arts and sciences in -one tome, rightly called the _Speculum doctrinale_. We need not follow the -detail, but may view as from afar the long course ploughed by Vincent -through his matter. He first sketches the history of antique philosophy, -and then turns to books and language, and presents a glossary of Latin -synonyms. Book II. treats of Grammar, Book III. of Logic, Book IV. of -_Practica scientia_ or _Ethica_, first giving pagan ethics and then -passing on to the virtues of the monastic life. Book V. is a continuation -of this subject. Book VI. concerns the _Scientia oeconomica_, treating of -domestic economy, then of agriculture. Books VII. and VIII. take up -Politica, and, having discussed political institutions, proceed to a -treatment of law--the law of persons, things, and actions, according to -the canon and the civil law. Books IX. and X. consider Crimes--simony, -heresy, perjury, sacrilege, homicide, rape, adultery, robbery, usury. Book -XI. is more cheerful, _De arte mechanica_, and tells of building, the -military art, navigation, alchemy, and metals. Book XII. is Medicine, and -Books XIII. and XIV. discuss Physics, in connection with the healing art. -Book XV. is Natural Philosophy--animals and plants. Book XVI., _De -mathematica_, treats of arithmetic, music, geometry, astronomy, and -metaphysics cursorily. Book XVII. likewise thins out in a somewhat slight -discussion of Theology, which was to form the topic of the tome that -Vincent did not write. - -But Vincent did complete another tome, the _Speculum historiale_. It is a -loosely chronological compilation of tradition, myth, and history, with -discursions upon the literary works of the characters coming under review. -It would be tedious to follow its excerpted presentation of the profane -and sacred matter. - -We may leave Vincent, with the obvious reflection that his work is a -conglomerate, both in arrangement and contents. It has the pious aim of -contributing to man's salvation, and yet is an attempted universal -encyclopaedia of human knowledge, much of which is plainly secular and -mundane. The monstrous scope and dual purpose of the work prevented any -unity in method and arrangement. More single in aim, and better arranged -in consequence, are the _Sentences_ of Peter Lombard and the _Summa -theologiae_ of Aquinas. For although their scope, at least the scope of -the _Summa_, is wide, all is ordered with respect to the true aim of -_sacra doctrina_, just as Thomas explained in the passage which we have -already given. - -The alleged principle of the Lombard's division strikes one as curious; -yet he got it from Augustine: _Signum_ and _res_--the symbol and the -thing: verily an age-long play of spiritual tendency lay back of these -contrasted concepts. Christian _doctrina_ related, perhaps chiefly, to the -significance of _signa_, signs, symbols, allegories, mysteries, -sacraments. It was not so strange that the Lombard made this antithesis -the ground of his arrangement. Quite as of course he begins by saying it -is clear to any one who considers, with God's grace, that the "contents of -the Old and New Law are occupied either with _res_ or _signa_. For as the -eminent doctor Augustine says in his _Doctrina Christiana_, all teaching -is of things or signs; but things also are learned through signs. Properly -those are called _res_ which are not employed in order to signify -something; while _signa_ are those whose use is to signify." Then the -Lombard separates the sacraments from other _signa_, because they not only -signify, but also confer saving aid; and he points out that evidently a -_signum_ is also some sort of a thing; but not everything is a _signum_. -He will treat first of _res_ and then of _signa_. - -As to _res_, one must bear in mind, as Augustine says, that some things -are to be enjoyed (_fruendum_), as from love we cleave to them for their -own sake; and others are to be used (_utendum_) as a means; and still -others to be both enjoyed and used. - - "Those which are to be enjoyed make us blessed (_beatos_); those which - are to be used, aid us striving for blessedness.... We ourselves are - the things which are both to be enjoyed and used, and also the angels - and the saints.... The things which are to be enjoyed are Father, Son, - and Holy Spirit; and so the Trinity is _summa res_." - -So the Lombard's first two Books consider _res_ in the descending order of -their excellence; the third considers the Incarnation, which, if not -itself a sacrament, and the chief and sum of all sacraments, is the source -of those of the New Law, considered in the fourth Book. The scheme is -single and orderly; the difficulty will be in actually arranging the -various topics within it. Endeavouring to do so, the Lombard in Book I. -puts together the doctrine of the Trinity, the three Persons composing it, -and their attributes and qualities. Book II. considers in order, the -Angels, and very briefly, the work of the Six Days down to the creation of -man; then the Christian _doctrina_ as to man is presented: his creation -and its reasons; the creation of his _anima_; the creation of woman; the -condition of man and woman before the Fall; their sin; next free-will and -grace. Book III. treats of the Incarnation, in all the aspects in which it -may be known, and of the nature of Christ, His saving merit, and the grace -which was in Him; also of the virtues of faith, hope, and charity, the -seven gifts of the Spirit, and the existence of them all in Christ. Book -IV. considers the Sacraments of the New Law: Baptism, Confirmation, the -Eucharist, penance, extreme unction, ordination to holy orders, marriage. -It concludes with setting forth the Resurrection and the Last Judgment. - -The first chapters of Genesis were the ultimate source of the Lombard's -actual arrangement. And the _Summa_ will follow the same order of -treatment. One may perceive how naturally the adoption of this order came -to Christian theologians by glancing over Augustine's _De Genesi ad -litteram_.[445] This Commentary was partially constructive, and not simply -exegetical; and afforded a _cadre_, or frame, of topical ordering, which -could readily be filled out with the contents of the _Sentences_ or even -of the _Summa_: God, in His unity and trinity, the Creation, man -especially, his fall, the Incarnation as the saving means of his -restoration, and then the Sacraments, and the final Judgment unto heaven -and hell. One may say that this was the natural and proper order of -presenting the contents of the Christian _sacra doctrina_. - -So the great _Summa theologiae_ of Thomas Aquinas adopts the same order -which the Lombard had followed. The _Pars prima_ begins with defining -_sacra doctrina_.[446] It then proceeds to consider God--whether He -exists; then treats of His _simplicitas_ and _perfectio_; next of His -attributes; His _bonitas_, _infinitas_, _immutabilitas_, _aeternitas_, -_unitas_; then of our knowledge of Him; then of His knowledge, and therein -of truth and falsity; thereupon are considered the divine will, love, -justice, and pity; the divine providence and predestination; the divine -power and beatitude. - -All this pertains to the _unitas_ of the divine essence; and now Thomas -passes on to the _Trinitas personarum_, or the more distinctive portions -of Christian theology. He treats of the _processio_ and _relationes_ of -the _divinae Personae_, and then of themselves--Father, Son, Holy Spirit, -and then of their essential relationship and properties. Next he discusses -the _missio_ of the divine Persons, and the relations between God and His -Creation. First comes the consideration of the principle of creation, the -_processio creaturarum a Deo_, and of the nature of created things, with -some discussion of evil, whether it be a thing. - -Among created beings, Thomas treats first of angels, and at great length; -then of the physical creation, in its order--the work of the six days, but -with no great detail. Then man, created of spiritual and corporeal -substance--his complex nature is to be analysed and fathomed to its -depths. Thomas discusses the union of the _anima ad corpus_; then the -powers of the anima, _in generali_ and _in speciali_--the intellectual -faculties, the appetites, the will and its freedom of choice; how the -_anima_ knows--the full Aristotelian theory of cognition is given. Next, -more specifically as to the creation of the soul and body of the first -man, and the nature of the image and similitude of God within him; then as -to man's condition and faculties while in a state of innocence; also as to -Paradise. - -This closes the treatment of the _creatio et distinctio rerum_; and Thomas -passes to their _gubernatio_, and the problem of how God conserves and -moves the corporeal and spiritual; then concerning the action of one -creature on another, and how the angels are ranged in hierarchies, and -although purely spiritual beings, minister to men and guard them; then -concerning the action of corporeal things, concerning fate, and the action -of men upon men. - -Here ends _Pars prima_. The first section of the second part (_Prima -secundae_) begins. In a short Prologue Thomas says: - - "Because man is made in the image of God, that is, free in his thought - and will, and able to act through himself (_per se potestativum_), - after what has been said concerning the Exemplar, God, and everything - proceeding from the divine power according to His will, it remains for - us to consider His image, to wit, man, in so far as he is the source - or cause (_principium_) of his own works, having free-will and power - over them." - -Hereupon Thomas takes up in order: the ultimate end of man; the nature of -man's beatitude, and wherein it consists, and how it may be attained; then -voluntary and involuntary acts, and the nature and action of will; then -fruition, intention, election, deliberation, consent, and actions good and -bad, flowing from the will; then the passions; concupiscence and pleasure, -sadness, hope and despair, fear, anger; next habits (_habitus_) and the -virtues, intellectual, cardinal, theological; the gifts of the Spirit, and -the beatitudes; the vices, and sin, and penalty. Thereupon it becomes -proper to consider the external causes (_principia_) of acts: "The -external cause (_principium_) moving toward good is God; who instructs us -through law, and aids us through grace. Therefore we must speak, first of -law, then of grace." So Thomas discusses: the _essentia_ of law, and the -different kinds of law--_lex aeterna_, _lex naturalis_, _lex -humana_--their effect and validity; then the precepts of the Old Law (of -the Old Testament); then as to the law of the Gospel and the need of -grace; and lastly, concerning grace and human merit. - -The _Secunda secundae_ (the second division of the second part) opens with -a Prologue, in which the author says that, having considered generally the -virtues and vices, and other things pertaining to the matter of ethics, it -is needful to consider these same matters more particularly, each in turn; -"for general moral statements (_sermones morales universales_) are less -useful, inasmuch as actions are always _in particularibus_." A more -special statement of moral rules may proceed in two ways: the one from the -side of the moral material, discussing this or that virtue or vice; the -other considers what applies to special orders (_speciales status_) of -men, for instance prelates and the lower clergy, or men devoted to the -active or contemplative religious life. "We shall, therefore, consider -specially, first what applies to all conditions of men, and then what -applies to certain orders (_determinatos status_)." Thomas adds that it -will be best to consider in each case the virtue and corresponding gift, -and the opposing vice, together; also that "virtues are reducible to -seven, the three theological,[447] and the four cardinal virtues. Of the -intellectual virtues, one is Prudence, which is numbered with the cardinal -virtues; but ars does not pertain to morals, which relate to what is to be -done, while ars is the correct faculty of making things (_recta ratio -factibilium_).[448] The other three intellectual virtues, _sapientia_, -_intellectus_, _et scientia_, bear the names of certain gifts of the Holy -Spirit, and are considered with them. Moral virtues are all reducible to -the cardinal virtues; and therefore, in considering each cardinal virtue, -all the virtues related to it are considered, and the opposite vices." - -This classification of the virtues seems anything but clear. And perhaps -the weakest feature of the _Summa_ is this scarcely successful ordering, -or combination, of the Aristotelian virtues with those more germane to the -Christian scheme. However this may be, the author of the _Summa_ proceeds -to consider in order: _fides_, and the gifts (_dona_) of _intellectus_ and -_scientia_ which correspond to the virtue faith; next the opposing vices: -_infidelitas_, _haeresis_, _apostasia_, _blasphemia_, and _caecitas -mentis_ (spiritual blindness). Next in order come the virtue _spes_, and -the corresponding gift of the Spirit, _timor_, and the opposing vices of -_desperatio_ and _praesumptio_.[449] Next, _caritas_, with its _dilectio_, -its _gaudium_, its _pax_, its _misericordia_, its _beneficentia_ and -_eleemosyna_, and its _correctio fraterna_; then the opposite vices, -_odium_, _acedia_, _invidia_, _discordia_, _contentio_, _schisma_, -_bellum_, _rixa_, _seditio_, _scandalum_. Next the _donum sapientiae_, and -its opposite, _stultitia_; next, _prudentia_, and its correspondent gift, -_consilium_; and its connected vices, _imprudentia_, _negligentia_, and -its evil semblances, _dolus_ and _fraus_. - -Says Thomas: _Consequenter post prudentiam considerandum est de Justitia_. -Whereupon follows a juristic treatment of _jus_, _justitia_, _judicium_, -_restitutio_, _acceptio personarum_; then _homicide_ and other crimes -recognized by law. Then come the virtues, connected with _justitia_, to -wit, _religio_, and its acts, _devotio_, _oratio_, _adoratio_, -_sacrificium_, _oblatio_, _decimae_, _votum_, _juramentum_; then the vices -opposed to _religio_: _superstitio_, _idolatria_, _tentatio Dei_, -_perjurium_, _sacrilegium_, _simonia_. Next is considered the virtue of -_pietas_; then _observantia_, with its parts, i.e. _dulia_ (service), -_obedientia_, and its opposite, _inobedientia_. Next, _gratia_ (thanks) or -_gratitudo_, and its opposite, _ingratitudo_; next, _vindicatio_ -(punishment); next, _veritas_, with its opposites, _hypocrisis_, -_jactantia_ (boasting), and _ironia_; next, _amicitia_, with the vices of -_adulatio_ and _litigium_. Next, the virtue of _liberalitas_, and its -vices, _avaritia_ and _prodigalitas_; next, _epieikeia_ (_aequitas_). -Finally, closing this discussion of all that is connected with _Justitia_, -Thomas speaks of its corresponding gift of the Spirit, _pietas_. - -Now comes the third cardinal virtue, _Fortitudo_--under which _martyrium_ -is the type of virtuous act; _intimiditas_ and _audacia_ are the two -vices. Then the parts of _Fortitudo_, to wit, _magnanimitas_, -_magnificentia_, _patientia_, _perseverantia_, and the obvious opposing -vices. Next, the fourth cardinal virtue, _Temperantia_, its obvious -opposing vices, and its parts, to wit, _verecundia_, _honestas_, -_abstinentia_, _sobrietas_, _castitas_, _clementia_, _modestia_, -_humilitas_, and the various appropriate acts and opposing vices related -to these special virtues. - -So far,[450] Thomas has been considering the virtues proper for all men; -and now he comes to those specially pertaining to certain kinds of men, -according to their gifts of grace, their modes of life, or the diversity -of their offices, or stations. Of the special virtues related to gifts of -grace, the first is _prophetia_, next _raptus_ (vision), then _gratia -linguarum_, and _gratia miraculorum_. After this, the _vita activa_ and -_contemplativa_, with their appropriate virtues, are considered. And then -Thomas proceeds to speak _De officiis et statibus hominum_, and their -respective virtues. - -Here ends the _Secunda secundae_, and _Pars tertia_ opens with this -Prologue: - - "Inasmuch as our Saviour Jesus Christ (as witnesseth the Angel, - _populum suum salvum faciens a peccatis eorum_) has shown in himself - the way of truth, through which we are able to come to the beatitude - of immortal life by rising again, it is necessary, for the - consummation of the whole theological matter, after the consideration - of the final end of human life, and of the virtues and vices, that our - attention should be fixed upon the Saviour of all and His benefactions - to the human race. - - "As to which, first one must consider the Saviour himself; secondly, - His sacraments, by which we obtain salvation; thirdly, concerning the - end (_finis_), immortal life, to which we come by rising again through - Him. - - "As to the first, one has to consider the mystery of the Incarnation, - in which God was made man for our salvation, and then those things - that were done and suffered by our Saviour, that is, God incarnate." - -This Prologue indicates sufficiently the order of topics in the _Pars -tertia_ of the _Summa_, through Quaestio xc., at which point the hand of -the Angelic Doctor was folded to eternal rest. He was then considering -_penance_, the fourth in his order of Sacraments. All that he had to say -as to the person, and attributes, and acts and passion of Christ had been -written; and he had considered the Sacraments of baptism, confirmation, -and the eucharist; he was occupied with _poenitentia_; and still other -sacraments remained, as well as his final treatment of the matters which -lie beyond the grave. So he left his work unfinished, and, in spite of -many efforts, unfinishable by any of his pupils or successors.[451] - - -II - -Inasmuch as the matter of their thoughts was transmitted to the men of the -Middle Ages, and was not drawn from their own observation or constructive -reasoning, the fundamental intellectual endeavour for mediaeval men was to -apprehend and make their own, and re-express. Their intellectual progress -followed this process of appropriation, and falls into three -stages--learning, organically appropriating, and re-expressing with added -elements of thought. Logically, and generally in time, these three stages -were successive. Yet, of course, they overlapped, and may be observed -progressing simultaneously. Thus, for example, what was known of Aristotle -at the beginning of the twelfth century was slight compared with the -knowledge of his philosophy that was opened to western Europe in the -latter part of the twelfth and the beginning of the thirteenth. And while, -by the middle of the twelfth century, the elements of Aristotle's logic -had been thoroughly appropriated, the substantial Aristotelian philosophy -had still to be learned and mastered, before it could be reformulated and -re-expressed as part of mediaeval thought. - -Looking solely to the outer form, the three stages of mediaeval thought -are exemplified in the Scriptural Commentary of the later Carolingian -time, in the twelfth-century _Books of Sentences_, and at last in the more -organic _Summa theologiae_. With this significant evolution and change of -outer form, proceeded the more substantial evolution consisting in -learning, appropriating, and re-expressing the inherited material. In both -cases, these three stages were necessitated by the greatness of the -transmitted matter; for the intellectual energies of the mediaeval period -were fully occupied with mastering the data proffered so pressingly, with -presenting and re-presenting this superabundant material, and recasting it -in new forms of statement, which were also expressions, or realizations, -of the mediaeval genius. So the mediaeval product may be regarded as given -by the past, and by the same token necessitated and controlled. But, on -the other hand, each stage of intellectual progress rendered possible the -next one. - -The first stage of learning is represented by the Carolingian period, -which we have considered. It was then that the patristic material was -extracted from the writings of the Fathers, and rearranged and reapplied, -to meet the needs of the time. The mastery of this material had scarcely -made such vital progress as to enable the men of the ninth and tenth and -eleventh centuries to re-express it largely in terms of their own -thinking. In the ninth century, Eriugena affords an extraordinary -exception with his drastic restatement of what he had drawn from -Pseudo-Dionysius and others; and at the end comes Anselm, whose genius is -metaphysically constructive. But Anselm touches the coming time; and the -springs of Eriugena's genius are hidden from us. - -As for the antique thought during these Carolingian centuries, Eriugena -dealt in his masterful way with what he knew of it through patristic and -semi-patristic channels. But let us rather seek it in the curriculum of -the Trivium and Quadrivium. What progress Gerbert made in the Quadrivium, -that is, in the various branches of mathematics which he taught, has been -noted, and to what extent his example was followed by his pupil Fulbert, -at the cathedral school of Chartres.[452] The courses of the -Trivium--grammar, rhetoric, logic--demand our closer attention; for they -were the key of the situation. We must keep in mind that we are -approaching mediaeval thought from the side of the innate human need of -intellectual expression--the impulse to know and the need to formulate -one's conceptions and express them consistently. For mediaeval men the -first indispensable means to this end was grammar, including rhetoric, and -the next was logic or dialectic. The Latin language contained the sum of -knowledge transmitted to the Middle Ages. And it had to be learned. This -was true even in Italy and Spain and France, where each year the current -ways of Romance speech were departing more definitely from the parent -stock; it was more patently true in the countries of Teutonic speech. -Centuries before, the Roman youth had studied grammar that they might -speak and write correctly. Now it was necessary to study Latin grammar, to -wit, the true forms and literary usages of the Latin tongue, in order to -acquire any branch of knowledge whatsoever, and express one's -corresponding thoughts. And men would not at first distinguish sharply -between the mediating value of the learned tongue and the learning which -it held.[453] - -Thus grammar, the study of the Latin language, represented the first stage -of knowledge for mediaeval men. This was to remain true through all the -mediaeval centuries; since all youths who became scholars had to learn the -language before they could study what was contained in it alone. One may -also say, and yet not speak fantastically, that grammar, the study of the -correct use of the language itself, corresponded spiritually with the main -intellectual labour of the Carolingian period. Alcuin's attention is -commonly fixed upon the significance of language, Latin of course. And the -labours of his pupil Rabanus, and the latter's pupil Walafrid, are as it -were devoted to the grammar of learning. That is to say, they read and -endeavour to understand the works of the Fathers; they compare and -collate, and make volumes of extracts, which they arrange for the most -part as Scripture commentaries; commentaries, that is, upon the -significance of the canonical writings which were the substance of all -wisdom, but needed much explication. Such works were the very grammar of -knowledge, being devoted to the exposition of the meaning of the -Scriptures and the vast burden of patristic thought. A like purpose was -evinced in the efforts of the great emperor himself to re-establish -schools of grammar, in order that the Scriptures might be more correctly -understood, and the expositions of the holy Fathers. In fine, just as -knowledge of the Latin tongue was the end and aim of grammar, so a correct -understanding of what was contained in Latin books was the aim of the -intellectual labours of this period. It all represented the first stage in -the mediaeval acquisition of knowledge, or in the presentation or -expression of the same; and thus the first stage in the mediaeval -endeavour to realize the human impulse to know. - -The next course of the Trivium was logic; and likewise its study will -represent truly the second stage in the mediaeval realization of the human -impulse to know, to wit, the second stage in the appropriation and -expression of the knowledge transmitted from the past. We have spoken at -some length of the logical studies of Gerbert, and his endeavours to -adjust his thinking and classify the branches of knowledge by means of -formal logic.[454] Those discussions of his which seem somewhat puerile to -us, were essential to his endeavours to formulate what he had learned, and -present it as rational and ordered knowledge. Logic is properly the stage -succeeding grammar in the formulation of rational knowledge. At least it -was for men of Gerbert's time, and the following centuries. Rightly -enough they looked on logic as a _scientia sermotionalis_, which on one -side touched sheer linguistics, and on the other, had for its field the -further processes of reason. Thus Hugo of St. Victor, Abaelard's very -great contemporary, says: - - "Logic is named from the Greek word _logos_, which has a twofold - interpretation. For _logos_ means either _sermo_ or _ratio_; and - therefore logic may be termed either a _scientia sermotionalis_ or a - _scientia rationalis_. _Logica rationalis_ embraces dialectic and - rhetoric, and is called _discretiva_ (argumentative and exercising - judgment); _logica sermotionalis_ is the genus which includes grammar, - dialectic and rhetoric, to wit, discursive science - (_disertiva_)."[455] - -The close connection between grammar and logic is evident. Logic treats of -language used in rational expression, as well as of the reasoning -processes carried on in language. Its elementary chapters teach a rational -use of language, whereby men may reach a more deeply consistent expression -of their thoughts than is gained from grammar. Yet grammar also is logic, -and based on logical principles. All this is exemplified in the logical -treatises composing the Aristotelian _Organon_, which the Middle Ages -used. First comes Porphyry's _Isagoge_, which clearly is bound up in -language. Likewise Aristotle's _Categories_ treat of the rational and -consistent use of language, or of what may be stated in language. Next it -is obvious that the _De interpretatione_ treats of language used to -express thought, its generic function. The more advanced treatises of the -_Organon_, the _Prior_ and _Posterior Analytics_, the _Topics_, and -_Sophistical Elenchi_, treat directly and elaborately of the reasoning -processes themselves. So one perceives the grammatical affinities of the -simpler treatises in the _Organon_. The more advanced ones seem to stand -to them as oratorical rhetoric stands to elementary grammar. For the -_Analytics_, _Topics_, and _Sophistical Elenchi_ are a kind of _eristic_, -training the student to use the processes of thought and their expression -in order to attain an end, commonly argumentative. The prior treatises -have taught the elements, as it were the orthography and etymology of the -rational expression of thought in language; the latter (even as syntax and -rhetoric), train the student in the use of these elements. And one -observes a nice historical fitness in the fact that only the simpler -treatises of the _Organon_ were in common use in the early Middle Ages, -since they alone were necessary to the first stage in the appropriation of -the substance of patristic and antique thought. The full _Organon_ was -rediscovered, and retaken into use in the middle or latter part of the -twelfth century, when men had progressed to a more organic appropriation -of the patristic material and what they knew of the antique philosophy. - -Thus in mediaeval education, and in the successive order of appropriating -the patristic and the antique, logic stood on grammar's shoulders. It was -grammar's rationalized stage, and treated language as the means of -expressing thought consistently and validly; that is, so as not to -contravene the necessities of that whereof it was the vehicle. And since -language thus treated was in accord with rational thought, it would accord -with the realities to which thought corresponds; and might be taken as -expressing _them_. This last reflection introduces metaphysics. - -And properly. For the three stages in the mediaeval appropriation and -expression of knowledge were grammar, logic, metaphysics. Logic has to do -with the processes of thought; with the positing of premises and the -drawing of the conclusion. It does not necessarily consider whether the -contents of its premises represent realities. This is matter for ontology, -metaphysics. Now mediaeval metaphysics, which were those of Greek -philosophy, were extremely pre-Kantian, in assuming a correspondence -between the necessities or conclusions of thought and the supreme -realities, God and the Universe. Nor did mediaeval logic doubt that its -processes could elucidate and express the veritable natures of things. So -mediaeval logic readily wandered into the province of metaphysics, and -ignored the line between the two. - -Yet there is little metaphysics in the _Organon_; none in its simpler -treatises. So there was none in the elementary logical instruction of the -schools before the twelfth century at least.[456] One may always -distinguish between logic and metaphysics; and it is to our purpose to do -so here. For as we have taken logic to represent the second stage in the -mediaeval appropriation of knowledge, so metaphysics, poised in turn on -logic's shoulders, is very representative of the third stage, to wit, the -stage of systematic and organic re-expression of the ancient matter, with -elements added by the great schoolmen. - -Metaphysics was very properly the final stage. The grammatical represented -an elementary learning of what the past had transmitted; the logical a -further retrying of the matter, an attempt to understand and express it, -formulate parts of it anew, with deeper consistency of expression. Then -follows the attempt for final and universal consistency: final inasmuch as -thought penetrates to the nature of things and expresses realities and the -relationships of realities; and universal, in that it seeks to order and -systematize all its concepts, and bring them to unity in a _Summa_--a -perfected scheme of rational presentation of God and His creation. This -will be, largely speaking, the final endeavour of the mediaeval man to -ease his mind, and realize _his_ impulse to know and express himself with -uttermost consistency. - -So for mediaeval men, metaphysics stood on logic's shoulders and -represented the final completion of their thought, in a universal system -and scheme of God and man and things.[457] But the first part of this -proposition had not been true with Greek philosophy. Metaphysics is -properly occupied with being, in its ultimate essence and relationships; -with the consistent putting together of things, to wit, the presentation -or expression of them so as not to disagree with any of the data -recognized as pertinent. The thinker considers profoundly, seeking to -penetrate the ultimate reality and relationships of things, through which -a universal whole is constituted. This makes ontology, metaphysics--the -science of being, of causes, and so the science of the first Cause, God. -Aristotle called this the "first" philosophy, because lying at the base of -all branches of knowledge, and depending on nothing beyond itself. Some -time after his death, the Peripatetics and then the Neo-Platonists called -this first science by the name of Metaphysics, "after" or "beyond" -physics, if one will, perhaps because of the actual order of treatment in -the schools. - -The term Metaphysics is vague enough; either "first" philosophy or -"ontology" is preferable. Yet as to Greek philosophy the term has apt -historical suggestiveness. For it did come after physics in time, and was -in fact evoked by the imperfect method and consequent contradictions of -the earlier philosophies. From the beginning, Greek philosophy drove -straight at the cause or origin of things--surely the central problem of -metaphysics. Thales and the other Ionians began with rational, though -crude, hypotheses as to the sources of the universe. These were first -attempts to reach a consistent expression of its origin and nature. Each -succeeding philosopher considered further, from the vantage-ground of the -recognized inconsistencies or inadequacies in the theories of his -predecessors. He was thus led on to consider more profoundly the essential -relationships of things, the very truth of their relationships, and on and -on into the problem of their being. For the verity of relations must be -according to the verity of being of the things related. The world about us -consists in relationships, of antecedents and sequences, of cause and -effect; and our thought of it is made up of consistencies or -contradictions, which last we struggle to eliminate, or to transform to -consistencies. - -These early philosophers looked only to the Aristotelian material cause -for the origin and cause of things; yet reflection plunged them deeper -into a consideration of the nature of being and relationships. The other -causes were evoked by Anaxagoras and then by Plato, and by them were led -into the arena of debate; and philosophers discussed the efficient and -final cause as well as the material. Such discussions are recognized by -Plato, and finally by Aristotle as relating to the first principles of -cognition and being, and so as constituting metaphysics. The constant -search for a deeper consistency of explanation had led on and on through a -manifold consideration of those palpable relationships which make up the -visible world; it had disclosed the series of necessary assumptions -required by those visible relationships; and thus the search for causality -and origins, and essential relationships, became one and the -same--metaphysics. - -Metaphysics was not ineptly called so, since it had in time come after the -cruder physical hypotheses. But such was not the order of _mediaeval_ -intellectual progress. The Middle Ages passed through no preliminary -course of physical hypotheses, explanatory of the universe. Not physics, -but logic (introduced by grammar) led up to the final construction--or -rather adoption and reconstruction--of ultimate hypotheses as to God and -man, led up to the all-ordering and all-compassing _Theologia_. -_Metalogics_, rather than Metaphysics, would be the proper name for these -final expressions or actualizations of the mediaeval impulse to know. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI - -TWELFTH-CENTURY SCHOLASTICISM - - I. THE PROBLEM OF UNIVERSALS: ABAELARD. - - II. THE MYSTIC STRAIN: HUGO AND BERNARD. - - III. THE LATER DECADES: BERNARD SILVESTRIS; GILBERT DE LA PORRÉE; - WILLIAM OF CONCHES; JOHN OF SALISBURY, AND ALANUS OF LILLE. - - -I - -From the somewhat elaborate general considerations which have occupied the -last two chapters, we turn to the representative manifestations of -mediaeval thought in the twelfth century. These belong in part to the -second or "logical," and in part to the third or "meta-logical," stage of -the mediaeval mind. The first or "grammatical" stage was represented by -the Carolingian period; and in reviewing the mental aspects of the -eleventh century, we entered upon the second stage, that of logic, or -dialectic, to use the more specific mediaeval term. Toward the close of -the tenth century Gerbert was found strenuously occupying himself with -logic, and using it as a means of ordering the branches of knowledge. At -the end of the eleventh, Anselm has not only considered certain logical -problems, but has vaulted over into constructive metaphysical theology. -Looking back over Anselm's work, from the vantage-ground of the twelfth -century's further reflections, one may be conscious of a certain genial -youthfulness in his reliance upon single arguments, noble and beautiful -soarings of the spirit, which however pay little regard to the firmness of -the premises from which they spring, and still less to a number of -cognate and pertinent considerations, which the twelfth century was to -analyze. - -Anselm's thoughts perhaps overleaped logic. At all events he appears only -occasionally absorbed with its formal problems. Yet he lived in a time of -dawning logical controversy. Roscellin was even then blowing up the -problem of universals, a problem occasioned by the entering of mediaeval -thought upon the "logical" stage of its appropriation of the patristic and -antique. - -The problem of universals, or general ideas, from the standpoint of logic, -lies at the basis of consistent thinking. It reverts to the time when -Aristotle's assertion of the pre-eminently real existence of individuals -broke away from the Platonic doctrine of Ideas. For the early mediaeval -philosophers, it took its rise in a famous passage in Porphyry's -Introduction to the _Categories_, the concluding sentence of which, as -translated into Latin by Boëthius, puts the question thus: "Mox de -generibus et speciebus illud quidem sive subsistant sive in nudis -intellectibus posita sint, sive subsistentia corporalia sint an -incorporalia, et utrum separata a sensibilibus an in sensibilibus posita -et circa haec consistentia, dicere recusabo." "Next as to _genera_ and -_species_, do they actually exist or are they merely in thought; are they -corporeal or incorporeal existences; are they separate from sensible -things or only in and of them?--I refuse to answer," says Porphyry; "it is -a very lofty business, unsuited to an elementary work." - -Thus, in three pairs of crude alternatives, the question came over to the -early Middle Ages. The men of the Carolingian period took one position or -another, without sensing its difficulties, or observing how it lay athwart -the path of knowledge. Students were not as yet attempting such a dynamic -appropriation of the ancient material as would evoke this veritable -problem of cognition. Even Gerbert at the close of the tenth century was -still so busy with the outer forms and figments of logic that he had no -time to enter on those ulterior problems where logic links itself to -metaphysics. One Roscellin, living and teaching apparently at Besançon in -the latter part of the eleventh century, seems to have been the first to -attack the currently accepted "realism" with some sense of the matter's -thorny intricacies. With his own "nominalistic" position we are acquainted -only through his adversaries, who imputed to him views which a thoughtful -person could hardly have entertained--that universals were merely words -and breath (_flatus vocis_). Roscellin seems at all events to have been a -man strongly held by the reality of individuals, and one who found it -difficult to ascribe a sufficient intellectual actuality to the general -idea as distinguished from the perception of things and the demands of the -concepts of their individual existences. His logical difficulties impelled -him to theological heresy. The unity in the Trinity became an -impossibility; he could only conceive of three beings, just as he might -think of three angels; and he would have spoken of three Gods had usage -not forbidden it, says St. Anselm.[458] As it was, he said enough to draw -on him the condemnation of a Council held at Soissons in 1092, before -which he quailed and recanted. For the remainder of his life he so -constrained the expression of his thoughts as to ensure his safety. - -One may say that Plato's theory of ideas was a metaphysical presentation -of the universe, sounding in conceptions of reality. But for the Middle -Ages, the problem whether genera and species exist when abstracted from -their particulars, sprang from logical controversy. It was a problem of -cognition, cognizance, understanding: how should one understand and -analyze the contents of a statement, _e.g._ Socrates is a man. Moreover, -it was a fundamental and universal problem of cognition; for it was not -merely occupied, like all mental processes, with bringing data to -consistent formulation, but pertained to those processes themselves by -which any and all data are stated or formulated. It touched every -formulation of truth, asking, in fine, how are we to think our statements? -The philosophers of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, however, did not -view this problem as one pertaining to the mind's processes, and as having -to do solely with the understanding of the contents of a statement. -Rather, even as Plato had done, they approached it as if it were a problem -of modes of existence; and for this very reason it had pushed Roscellin -into theological error. - -The discussion was to pass through various stages; and each stage may seem -to us to represent the point reached by the thinker in his analysis of his -conscious meaning in stating a proposition. Moreover, each solution may be -valid for him who gives it, because of its correspondence to the meaning -of his utterances so far as he has analyzed them. But mediaeval men could -not take it in this way. Their intellectual task lay in appropriating, and -in their own way re-expressing, all that had come to them from an -authoritative past. The problem of universals had been stated by a great -authority, who put it as pertaining to the objective reality of genera and -species. How then might mediaeval men take it otherwise, especially when -at all events it pertained in all verity to their endeavour to grasp and -re-express the contents of transmitted truth? It became for a while the -crucial problem, the answer to which might indicate the thinker's general -intellectual attitude. Far from keeping to logic, to the _organon_ or -instrumental part of the mediaeval endeavour to know, it wound itself -through metaphysics and theology. Obviously the thinker's answer to the -problem would bear relation to his thoughts upon the transcendent reality -of spiritual essences. - -The men who first became impressed with the importance of this problem, -gave extreme answers to it, sometimes crassly denying the real existence -of universals, but more often hailing them as antecedent and -all-permeating realities. If Roscellinus took the former position, a pupil -of his, William of Champeaux, held the extreme opposite view, when both he -and the twelfth century were still young. One may, however, bear in mind -that as the views of the older nominalist are reported only by his -enemies, so our knowledge of William's lucubrations comes mainly from the -exacerbated pen of Peter Abaelard. - -William held apparently "that the same thing, in its totality and at the -same time, existed in its single individuals, among which there was no -essential difference, but merely a variety of accidents."[459] Abaelard -appears to have performed a _reductio ad absurdum_ upon this view that the -total genus exists in each individual. He pointed out that in such case -the total genus _homo_ would at the same time exist in Socrates and also -in Plato, when one of them might be in Rome and the other in Athens. "At -this William changed his opinion," continues Abaelard, "and taught that -the genus existed in each individual not _essentialiter_ but -_indifferenter_ or [as some texts read] _individualiter_." Which seems to -mean that William no longer held that the total genus existed in each -individual actually, but "indistinguishably," or "individually." - -And the students flocked away with Abaelard, _he_ also says; and William -fled the lecture chair. William and Peter; shall we say of them _arcades -ambo_? This would be but a harmless depreciation of Abaelard, in the face -of the universal and correct tradition as to his epoch-making intellectual -progressiveness. Indeed it might be well to let the phrase sound in our -ears, just for the reminder's sake, that Abaelard was, like William, a man -of logic, although far more expert both in manipulating the dialectic -processes and in applying them to theology. - -Before endeavouring briefly to reconstruct the intellectual qualities of -Abaelard from his writings, let us see how the famous open letter to a -friend, in giving an apologetic story of the writer's life, discloses the -fatalities of his character. This _Historia calamitatum suarum_ makes it -plain enough why the crises of his life were all of them -catastrophes--even leaving out of view his liaison with Heloïse and its -penalty. A fatal impulse to annoy seems to drive him from fate to fate; -the old word of Heraclitus [Greek: êthos anthrôpô daimôn] (character is a -man's genius) was so patently true of him. Much that he said was to -receive orthodox approval after his time. Quite true. It has often been -remarked, that the heresy of one age is the accepted doctrine of the next, -even within the Church. But would the heretic have been _persona grata_ -to the later time? Perhaps not. Peter Abaelard at all events would have -led others and himself a life of thorns in the thirteenth century, or the -fourteenth had he been born again, when some of his methods and opinions -had become accepted commonplace. Did he have an eye for logical and human -truth more piercing than his twelfth-century fellows? Apparently. Was his -need to speak out his truth so much the more imperative than theirs? -Possibly. At all events, he was certainly possessed with an inordinate -impulsion to undo his rivals. He sits down before their fortress walls by -night, and when they see him there, they know not whether they look on -friend or foe--in this auditor. They will find out soon enough. He studied -dialectic under William of Champeaux at Paris, as all men were to know. He -got what William had to teach, and moved on, to lecture in Melun and -elsewhere. Then he returned and sat at William's feet awhile to learn -rhetoric, as he announced. But quickly he rose up, and assailed his -master's doctrine of universals, and overthrew him, as we have seen. The -victim's friends made Abaelard's eristically won lecturer's seat a prickly -one. He left Paris for a while, and then returned and taught on Mount St. -Geneviève, outside the city. - -Up to this time he had not been known to study theology. But in 1113, at -the age of thirty-four, he went to Laon to listen to a famous theologian -named Anselm, who himself had studied at Bec under a greater Anselm. Says -Abaelard in his _Historia calamitatum_: "So I came to this old man, whose -repute was a tradition, rather than merited by talent or learning. Any one -who brought his uncertainties to him, went away more uncertain still! He -was a marvel in the eyes of his hearers, but a nobody before a questioner. -He had a wonderful wordflow, but the sense was contemptible and the -reasoning abject." Well, I didn't listen to him long, Abaelard intimates; -but began to absent myself from his lectures, and was brought to task by -his auditors, to whom jokingly I said, I, too, could lecture on Scripture; -and I was taken up. Nothing loath, the next day I lectured to them on the -passage they had chosen from Ezekiel's obscure prophecies. So, all -unprepared, and trusting in my genius, I began to lecture, at first to -sparse audiences, but they quickly grew. Such is the substance of -Abaelard's own account, and he goes on to tell how "the old man aforesaid -was violently moved with envy," and shortly Abaelard had to take his -lecturings elsewhere. He returned to Paris, and we have the episode of -Heloïse, for whom, as his life went on, he evinced a devoted -affection.[460] - -Now he is monk in the abbey of St. Denis; and there again he lectures, and -takes up certain themes against Roscellinus, whom he seems to resurrect -from the quiet of old age to make a target of. This old man, too, hits -back, and other vicious people blow up a cloud of envy, until the gifted -lecturer finds himself an accused before the Council of Soissons, and his -book condemned. Untaught by the burning of his book, Abaelard returns to -his convent, and proceeds to unearth statements of the Venerable Bede -showing that Dionysius the Areopagite who heard Paul preach, was not the -St. Denis who became patron saint of France, and founder of the great -abbey which even now was sheltering a certain Abaelard, and drawing power -and revenue from the fame of its reputed almost apostolic founder. Its -abbot and monks did not care to have the abbey walls undermined by truth, -and Abaelard was hunted forth from among them. - -It was after this that he made for himself a lonely refuge, which he named -the Paraclete, not far from Troyes, and thither again his pupils followed -him in swarms, and built their huts around him in the wilderness. But -still mightier foes--or their phantoms--rise against this hunted head. The -_Historia_ seems to allude to St. Norbert and to St. Bernard. Whatever the -storm was, it was escaped by flight to a remote Breton convent -which--still for his sins!--had chosen Abaelard its abbot. There in due -course they tried to murder him, and again he fled, this time back to his -congenial sphere, the schools of Paris, where he lectured, now at the -summit of fame, to enthusiastic multitudes of students. Some years pass, -and then the pious jackal, William of St. Thierry, rouses his lion Bernard -to contend with Abaelard and crush him, not with dialectic, at the -Council of Sens in 1141. In a year he died, a broken man, in Cluny's -shelter. The conflict had not been of his seeking. Perhaps, had he been -less vain, he might have avoided it. When it was upon him, the unhappy -athlete of the schools found himself a pigmy matched against the giant of -Clairvaux--the Thor and Loki of the Church! Whether or not the unequal -battle raises Abaelard in our esteem, its outcome commends him to our -pity; and all our sympathy stays with him to the last days of a life that -was, as if physically, crushed. This accumulation of sad fortune bears -witness enough to the character of the man on whose neck it did not fall -by accident. Now let us try to reconstruct him intellectually. - -We have heretofore observed the genius and noted the somewhat swaddling -dialectic categories of a certain eager intellect bearing the name of -Gerbert.[461] Abaelard's mental processes have advanced beyond such -logical stammerings. He and his time are in the fulness of youth, and feel -the strength and joyful assurance of an intellectual progress, to be -brought about by a new-found proficiency in dialectic. In the first half -of the twelfth century, the intellectual genius of the time--and Abaelard -was its quintessence--knew itself advancing by this means in truth. A like -intellectual consciousness had rejoiced the disputants in Plato's academy, -under the inspiration of that beautiful reasoner's exquisite dialectic. -The one time, like the other, was justified in its confidence. For in such -epochs, language, reasoning, and knowledge advance with equal step; -thought clears up with linguistic and logical analysis; it becomes clear -and illuminated because more distinctly conscious of the character of its -processes, and the nature of statement. There is thus a veritable -progress, at least in the methodology of truth. - -In Abaelard's time men had already studied grammar, the grammar of the -Latin tongue, and the quasi-grammar of rearrangement and first painful -learning of the knowledge which it held. They had studied logic too, its -simpler elements, those which consist mainly in a further clearing up of -the meanings of language. Some men--Anselm of Canterbury--had already -made sudden flights beyond grammar, and out of logic's pale. And the -labour of logical and organic appropriation, with some reconstruction of -the ancient material, was to go on in this first half of the twelfth -century, when Hugo of St. Victor lived as well as Abaelard. Progress by -means of dialectic controversy, and first attempts at systematic -construction, mark this period intellectually. Abaelard lived and moved -and had his being in dialectic. The further interest of Theology was lent -him by the spirit of his time. Through the medium of the one he reasoned -analytically; and in the province of the other he applied his reasoning -constructively, using patristic materials and the fragments of Greek -philosophy scattered through them. Thus Abaelard, a true man of the -twelfth century, passes on through logic to theology or metaphysics. - -For the completeness of his logical knowledge he lived and worked twenty -or thirty years too soon. He was unacquainted with the more elaborate -logical treatises of Aristotle, to wit, the _Prior_ and _Posterior -Analytics_, the _Topics_, and _Sophistical Elenchi_. The sources of his -own treatises upon Dialectic are Porphyry's Introduction, Aristotle's -_Categories_ and _De interpretatione_, and certain treatises of -Boëthius.[462] A first result of the elementary and quasi-grammatical -character of the sources of logic upon which he drew, is that the -connection between logic and grammar is very plain with him. Note, for -example, this paragraph of his, the substance of which is drawn from -Aristotle's _Categories_: - - "But neither can substances be compared,[463] since comparison relates - to attribute, and not to substance; so it is shown that comparison - lies not as to nouns, but as to their attributes. Thus we say _whiter_ - but not _whitenesser_. Much more are substances which have no - attribute (_adjacentiam_) immune from comparison. More or less cannot - be predicated of nouns (_nomina substantiva_). For one cannot say - _more man_ or _less man_, as _more_ or _less white_."[464] - -Evidently this elementary sort of logic, whether with Aristotle or -Abaelard, represents a clearing up of the mind on current modes of -expression. And sometimes from such studies men make discoveries like that -of Molière's Bourgeois Gentilhomme, who discovered that he had always been -talking prose. Some of the points on which the minds of Abaelard's -contemporaries required clarification, would be foolish word-play to -ourselves, as, for instance, whether the significance of the sentence -_homo est animal_ is contained in the subject, copula, or predicate, or -only in all three; and whether when a word is spoken, the very same word -and the whole of it comes to the ears of all the hearers at the same time: -"utrum ipsa vox ad aures diversorum simul et tota aequaliter veniat."[465] -Such questions, as was observed regarding the problems of logical -arrangement in Gerbert's mind, may be pertinent and reasonable enough, if -viewed in connection with the intellectual conditions of a period; just as -many questions now make demand on us for solution, being links in the -chain of our knowledge, or manner of reasoning. But future men may pass -them by as not lying in their path to progressive knowledge of the -universe and man. - -So the problem of universals was still cardinal with Abaelard and his -fellow-logicians, who through logic were advancing, as they believed, -along the path of objective truth. Its solution would determine the nature -of the categories into which logic was fitting whatever might be -enunciated or expressed. The inquiry represented an ultimate analysis of -statement, of the general nature of propositions; and also related to -their assumed correspondence with realities. What William of Champeaux had -unqualifiedly alleged, Abaelard tried to determine more analytically, to -wit, the value of the proposition "si aliquid sit ea res quae est species, -id est vel homo vel equus et caetera, sit quaelibet res quae eorum genus -est, veluti animal aut corpus aut substantia,"--if species be something, -as man, horse, and so forth, then that which is the genus of these may be -something, as animal, body, or substance.[466] - -Abaelard's discussion of this matter is a discussion of the true content -of propositions. His conclusion is not so clear as to have occasioned no -dispute. One must not think of him as an Aristotelian--for he knew little -of the substantial philosophy of Aristotle. Our dialectician had absorbed -more of Plato, through turbid patristic channels and the current -translation of the _Timaeus_. So his solution of the question of genus and -species may prove an analytic bit of eclecticism, an imagined -reconcilement of the two great masters. The universal or general is, says -he, "quod natum est de pluribus praedicari," that which is by its nature -adapted to be predicated of a number of things. The universal consists -neither in things as such nor in words as such; it consists rather in -general predicability; it is _sermo, sermo praedicabilis_, that which may -be stated, as a predicate, of many. As such it is not a mere word: _sermo_ -is not merely _vox_; that is not the true general predicable. On the other -hand, one thing cannot be the predicate of another; _res de re non -praedicatur_: therefore _sermo_ is not _res_. Yet Abaelard does not limit -the existence of the universal to the concept of him who thinks it. It -surely exists in the individuals, since _substantia specierum_ is not -different from the _essentia individuorum_. But does not the general -concept exist as an objective unity? Apparently Abaelard would answer: -Yes, it does thus exist as a common sameness (_consimilitudo_). - -All this is anything but clear. And the various twelfth-century opinions -on universals no longer possess human interest. It is hard for us to -distinguish between them, or understand them clearly, or state them -intelligibly. They are bound up in a phraseology untranslatable into -modern language, because the discussion no longer corresponds to modern -ways of thought. But one is interested in the human need which drove -Abaelard and his fellows upon the horns of this problem, and in the nature -of their endeavours to formulate their thought so as to escape those -opposing horns--of an extreme realism which might issue in pantheism, and -an extreme nominalism which seemed to deprive predication of substance and -validity.[467] - -So much for Abaelard as sheer logician, formal adjuster of the -instrumental processes of thinking. Dialectic was for him a first stage in -the actualization of the impulse to know, and bring knowledge to -consistent expression. It was also his way of approach to the further -systematic presentation of his thoughts upon God and man, human society -and justice, divine and human. - - "A new calumny against me, have my rivals lately devised, because I - write upon the dialectic art; affirming that it is not lawful for a - Christian to treat of things which do not pertain to the Faith. Not - only they say that this science does not prepare us for the Faith, but - that it destroys faith by the implications of its arguments. But it is - wonderful if I must not discuss what is permitted them to read. If - they allow that the art militates against faith, surely they deem it - not to be science (_scientia_). For the science of truth is the - comprehension of things, whose _species_ is the wisdom in which faith - consists. Truth is not opposed to truth. For not as falsehood may be - opposed to falsity, or evil to evil, can the true be opposed to the - true, or the good to the good; but rather all good things are in - accord. All knowledge is good, even that which relates to evil, - because a righteous man must have it. Since he should guard against - evil, it is necessary that he should know it beforehand: otherwise he - could not shun it. Though an act be evil, knowledge regarding it is - good; though it be evil to sin, it is good to know the sin, which - otherwise we could not shun. Nor is the science _mathematica_ to be - deemed evil, whose practice (astrology) is evil. Nor is it a crime to - know with what services and immolations the demons may be compelled to - do our will, but to use such knowledge. For if it were evil to know - this, how could God be absolved, who knows the desires and cogitations - of all His creatures, and how the concurrence of demons may be - obtained? If therefore it is not wrong to know, but to do, the evil is - to be referred to the act and not to the knowledge. Hence we are - convinced that all knowledge, which indeed comes from God alone and - from His bounty, is good. Wherefore the study of every science should - be conceded to be good, because that which is good comes from it; and - especially one must insist upon the study of that _doctrina_ by which - the greater truth is known. This is dialectic, whose function is to - distinguish between every truth and falsity: as leader in all - knowledge it holds the primacy and rule of all philosophy. The same - also is shown to be needful to the Catholic Faith, which cannot - without its aid resist the sophistries of schismatics."[468] - -In this passage the man himself is speaking, and disclosing his innermost -convictions. For Abaelard's nature was set upon understanding all things -through reason, even the mysteries of the Faith. He does not say, or quite -think, that he will disbelieve whatever he cannot understand; but his -reasoning and temper point to the conclusion. This was obviously true of -Abaelard's ethical opinions; his enemies said it was true of his theology. -Such a man would naturally plead for freedom of discussion, even for -freedom of conclusion; but within certain bounds; for who in the twelfth -century could maintain that heretics or infidels did rightly in rejecting -the Christian Faith? Yet Abaelard says heretics should be compelled -(_coercendi_) by reason rather than force.[469] And he could at least -conceive of the rejection of the Faith upon, say, imperfect rational -grounds. In his dialogue between Philosopher, Jew, and Christian, the -Christian says to the Philosopher: One cannot argue against you from the -authority of Scripture, which you do not recognize; for no one can be -refuted save with arguments drawn from what he admits: _Nemo quippe argui -nisi ex concessis potest_.[470] However this sounded in Abaelard's time, -the same was enunciated by Thomas Aquinas after him, in a passage already -given.[471] But it is doubtful whether Thomas would have cared to follow -Abaelard in some of the arguments of his _Ethics_ or _Book called, Know -Thyself_, in which he maintains that no act is a sin unless the actor was -conscious of its sinfulness; and therefore that killing the martyrs could -not be imputed as sin to those persecutors who deemed themselves thereby -to be doing a service acceptable to God.[472] - -The titles given by Abaelard to his various treatises are indicative of -the critical insistency of his nature. He called his _Ethica_, _Scito te -ipsum_, _Know Thyself_: understand thy good and ill intentions, and what -may be vice or virtue in thee. Through the book, the discussion of right -and wrong directs itself as pertinaciously to considerations of human -nature as was possible in an age when theological dogma held the final -criteria of human conduct. And Abaelard is capable of a lofty insight -touching the relationship between God and man. - - "Penitence," says he, "is truly fruitful when grief and contrition - proceed from love of God, regarded as benignant, rather than from fear - of penalties. Sin cannot endure with this groaning and contrition of - heart: for sin is contempt of God, or consent to evil, and the love of - God in inspiring our groaning, suffers no ill."[473] - -Possibly when reading the _Scito te ipsum_ one is conscious of a -dialectician drawing distinctions, rather than of a moralist searching the -heart of the matter. Everything is set forth so reasonably. Yet Abaelard's -impartial delight in a rational view of belief and conduct shows nowhere -quite as obviously as in his _Dialogue_ between Philosopher and Jew and -Christian. Each in turn is made to set forth the best arguments his -position admits of. The author does his best for each, and perhaps seems -temperamentally drawn to the position of the Philosopher, whom he permits -to call the Jews _stultos_ and the Christians _insanos_. This philosopher -naturally is no Greek of Plato's or Aristotle's time, but a good Roman, -who regards _moralis philosophia_ as the _finis omnium disciplinarum_, and -hangs all intellectual considerations upon a discussion of the _summum -bonum_. His well-worn arguments are put with earnestness. He deprecates -the blind acceptance of beliefs by children from their fathers, and the -narrowness of mind which keeps men from perceiving the possible truth in -others' opinions: - - "so that whomsoever they see differing from themselves in belief, they - deem alien from the mercy of God. Thus condemning all others, they - vaunt themselves alone as blessed. Long reflecting on this blindness - and pride of the human race, I have unceasingly besought the Divine - Pity that He would deign to draw me forth from this miserable - Charibdian whirlpool of error, and guide me to a port of safety. So - you [addressing both Jew and Christian] behold me solicitous and - attentive as a disciple, to the documents of your arguments."[474] - -The qualities cultivated by dialectic, and the impartial rational temper, -here displayed, reappear in the works of Abaelard devoted to sacred -doctrine. Enough has been said of the method and somewhat captious -qualities of the _Sic et non_.[475] Unquestionably its manner of -presenting the contradictory opinions of the Fathers, without any attempt -to reconcile them, tended to bring into view the difficulties inhering in -the formulation of Christian belief. And indeed the book made prominent -all the diabolic insoluble problems of the Faith, or rather of life itself -and any view of God and man: Predestination, for example; whether God -causes evil; whether He is omnipotent; whether He is free. The Lombard's -_Sentences_ and Thomas's _Summa_ considered all these questions; but they -strove to solve them; and Thomas did solve every one, leaving no loose -ends to his theology. More potently than Abaelard did the Angelic Doctor -employ dialectic in his finished scheme. With him, this propaedeutic -discipline, this tool of truth, perfectly performs its task of -construction. So also Abaelard intended to work with it; but his somewhat -unconsidered use of the tool did not meet the approval of his -contemporaries. Accordingly, in his more constructive theological -treatises his impulse to know and state appears finally actualized in the -systematic formulation of convictions upon topics of ultimate interest, to -wit, theology, the contents of the Christian Faith, the full relationship -of God and man. Did he sever theology from philosophy? Nay, rather, with -him theology was ultimate philosophy. - -Several times Abaelard rewrote what was substantially the same general -work upon Theology. In one of its earliest forms it was burnt by the -Council of Soissons in 1121.[476] In another form it exists under the -title _Theologia Christiana_;[477] and the first part of its apparently -final revision is now improperly entitled, _Introductio ad -theologiam_.[478] - -The first Book of the _Theologia Christiana_ is an exposition of the -Trinity, not clinched in syllogisms, but consisting mainly of an orderly -presentation of the patristic authorities supporting the author's view of -the matter. The testimonies of profane writers are also given. Liber II. -opens by saying that in the former part of the work "we have collected the -_testimonia_ of prophets and philosophers, in support of the faith of the -Holy Trinity." Hereupon, by the same method of adducing authorities, -Abaelard proceeds to refute those who had blamed him for citing the pagan -philosophers. He marshals his supporting excerpts from the Fathers, and -remarks: "That nothing is more needful for the defence of our faith than -that as against the importunities of all the infidels we should have -witness from themselves wherewith to refute them." Then he points to the -moral worth of some of the philosophers, to their true teaching of the -soul's immortality, and quotes Horace's - - "Oderunt peccare boni virtutis amore." - -He continues at some length setting forth their well-nigh evangelical -virtue, and speaks of the Gospel as _reformatio legis naturalis_. - -At the beginning of Liber III. comes the statement: "We set the faith of -the blessed Trinity as the foundation of all good." Whereupon Abaelard -breaks out in a denunciation of those who misuse dialectic; but again he -passes to a defence of the art as an art and branch of knowledge, and -shows its need as a weapon against those wranglers who will be quieted -neither by the authority of the saints nor the philosophers: against whom, -he, Abaelard, trusting in the divine aid, will turn this weapon as David -did the sword of Goliath. He now states the true object of his work: -"First then is to be set forth the theme of our whole labour, and the sum -of faith; the unity of the divine substance and the Trinity of persons, -which are in God, and are one God. Next we state the objections to our -theses, and then the solutions of those objections." And he gives the -substance of the Athanasian Creed. From this point, his work becomes more -dialectical and constructive, although of course continuing to quote -authorities. He is emboldened to discuss the deepest mysteries, the very -penetralia of the Trinity, and in a way which might well alarm men like -Bernard, who desired acceptance of the Faith, with rhetoric, but without -discussion. To be sure Abaelard pauses to justify himself by reverting to -his apologetic purpose: "Heretics must be coerced with reason rather than -by force." However this may be, the work henceforth shows the passing on -of logic to the exercise of its architectonic functions in constructing a -systematic theological metaphysics. - -The miscalled _Introductio ad theologiam_, as might be expected of a last -revision of the author's _Theology_, is a more organic work. In the -Prologue, Abaelard speaks of it as a _Summa sacrae eruditionis_ or an -_Introductio_ to Divine Scripture. And again he states the justifying -purpose of his labour, or rather puts it into the mouths of his disciples -who have asked for such a work from him: "Since our faith, the Christian -Faith, seems entangled in such difficult questions, and to stand apart -from human reason (_et ab humana ratione longius absistere_), it should be -fortified by so much the stronger arguments, especially against the -attacks of those who call themselves philosophers." Continuing, Abaelard -protests that if in any way, for his sins, he should deviate from the -Catholic understanding and statement, he will on seeing his error revise -the same, like the blessed Augustine. - -The work itself opens with a statement of its intended divisions: "In -three matters, as I judge, rests the sum of human salvation: _Fides_, -_caritas_, and _sacramentum_"; and he gives his definition of faith, which -was so obnoxious to Bernard and others, as the _existimatio rerum non -apparentium_. The three extant Books do not conclude the treatment even of -the first of these three topics. But one readily sees that were the work -complete, its arrangement might correspond with that of Thomas's -_Summa_.[479] One may reiterate that it was more constructively -argumentative than the _Theologia Christiana_, even in the manner of -using the cited authorities. For instance, Abaelard's mind is fixed on the -analogy between the Neo-Platonic Trinity of _Deus_, _nous_, and _anima -mundi_, and that of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The _nous_ fitly -represents Christ, who is the _Sapientia Dei_--which Abaelard sets forth; -but then with even greater insistency he identifies the Holy Spirit with -the world-soul. Nothing gave a stronger warrant to the accusations of -heresy brought against him than this last doctrine, with which he was -obsessed. Yet what roused St. Bernard and his jackals was not so much any -particular opinion of Abaelard, as his dialectic and critical spirit, -which insisted upon understanding and explaining, before believing. "The -faith of the righteous believes; it does not dispute. But that man, -suspicious of God (_Deum habens suspectum_), has no mind to believe what -his reason has not previously argued."[480] - -Still, when Bernard says that faith does not discuss, but believes, he -states a conviction of his mind, a conviction corresponding with an inner -need of his own to formulate and express his thought. Only, with Abaelard -the need to consider and analyse was more consciously imperative. He could -not avoid the constant query: How shall I think this thing--this thing, -for example, which is declared by revelation? Just as other questioning -spirits in other times might be driven upon the query: How shall we think -these things which are disclosed by the variegated walls of our physical -environment? Those yield data, or refuse them, and force the mind to put -many queries, and come to some adjustment. So experience presents data for -adjustment, just as dogma, Scripture, revelation present that which reason -must bring within the action of its processes, and endeavour to find -rational expression for. - - -II - -The greatest dialectician of the early twelfth century felt no problems -put him by the physical world. That did not attract his inquiry; it did -not touch the reasonings evolved by his self-consciousness, any more than -it impressed the fervid mind of his great adversary, St. Bernard. The -natural world, however, stirred the mind of Abaelard's contemporary, Hugo -of St. Victor.[481] Its colours waved before his reveries, and its visible -sublimities drew his mind aloft to the contemplation of God: for him its -_things_ were all the things of God--_opus conditionis_ or _opus -restaurationis_;[482] the work of foundation, whereby God created the -physical world for the support and edification of its crowning creature -man; and the work of restoration, to wit, the incarnation of the Word, and -all its sacraments. - -Hugo was a Platonic and very Christian theologian. He would reason and -expound, and yet was well aware that reason could not fathom the nature of -God, or bring man to salvation. "Logic, mathematics, physics teach some -truth, yet do not reach that truth wherein is the soul's safety, without -which whatever is is vain."[483] So Hugo was not primarily a logician, -like Abaelard; nor did he care chiefly for the kind of truth which might -be had through logic. Nevertheless the productions of his short life prove -the excellence of his mind and his large enthusiasm for knowledge. - -As Hugo was the head of the school of St. Victor for some years before his -death, certain of his works cover topics of ordinary mediaeval education, -secular and religious; while others advance to a more profound expression -of the intellectual, or spiritual, interests of their author. For -elementary religious instruction, he composed a veritable book of -_Sentences_,[484] which preceded the Lombard's in time, but was later than -Abaelard's _Sic et non_. Without striking features, it lucidly and amiably -carried out its general purpose of setting forth the authoritative -explanations of the elements of the Christian Faith. The writer did not -hesitate to quote opposing views, which were not heralded, however, by -such danger-signals of contradiction as flare from the chapter headings of -the _Sic et non_. - -The corresponding treatise upon profane learning--the _Eruditio -didascalica_--is of greater interest.[485] It commences in elementary -fashion, as a manual of study: "There are two things by which we gain -knowledge, to wit, reading and meditation; reading comes first." The book -is to be a guide to the student in the study both of secular and divine -writings; it teaches how to study the _artes_, and then how to study the -Scriptures.[486] Even in this manual, Hugo shows himself a meditative -soul, and one who seeks to base his most elementary expositions upon the -nature and needs of man. The mind, says he, is distracted by things of -sense, and does not know itself. It is renewed through study, so that it -learns again not to look without for what itself affords. Learning is -life's solace, which he who finds is happy, and he who makes his own is -blessed.[487] - -For Hugo, philosophy is that which investigates the _rationes_ of things -human and divine, seeking ever the final wisdom, which is knowledge of the -_primaeva ratio_: this distinguishes philosophy from the practical -sciences, like agriculture: it follows the _ratio_, and they administer -the matter. Again and again, Hugo returns to the thought that the object -of all human _actiones_ and _studia_ is to restore the integrity of our -nature or mitigate its weaknesses, restore the image of the divine -similitude in us, or minister to the needs of life. This likeness is -renewed by _speculatio veritatis_, or _exercitium virtutis_.[488] - -Such is a pretty broad basis of theory for a high school manual. Hugo -proceeds to set forth the scheme, rather than the substance, of the arts -and sciences, pausing occasionally to admonish the reader to hold no -science vile, since knowledge always is good; and he points out that all -knowledge hangs together in a common coherency. He sketches[489] the true -student's life: Whoever seeks learning, must not neglect discipline! He -must be humble, and not ashamed to learn from any one; he must observe -decent manners, and not play the fool and make faces at lecturers on -divinity, for thereby he insults God. Yea, and let him mind the example of -the ancient sages, who for learning's sake spurned honours, rejected -riches, rejoiced in insults, deserted the companionship of men, and gave -themselves up to philosophy in desert solitudes, that they might be more -free for meditation. Diligent search for wisdom in quietude becomes a -scholar; and likewise poverty, and likewise exile: he is very delicate who -clings to his fatherland; "He is brave to whom every land is home -(_patria_); and he is perfect to whom the whole world is an exile!"[490] - -Hugo has much to say of the _pulchritudo_ and the _decor_ of the -creature-world. But with him the world and its beauty point to God. One -should observe it because of its suggestiveness, the visible suggesting -the invisible. Hugo has already been followed in his argument that the -world, in its veriest reality, is a symbol.[491] Here we follow him along -his path of knowledge, which leads on and upward from _cogitatio_, through -_meditatio_, to _contemplatio_. The steps in Hugo's scheme are rational, -though the summit lies beyond. This path to truth, leading on from the -visible symbol to the unseen power, is for him the reason and -justification of study; drawing to God it makes for man's salvation. - -Hugo has put perhaps his most lucid exposition of the three grades of -knowledge into the first of his _Nineteen Sermons on Ecclesiastes_.[492] -He is fond of certain numbers, and here his thought revolves in categories -of the number three. Solomon composed three works, the Proverbs, -Ecclesiastes, and Canticles. In the first, he addresses his son -paternally, admonishing him to pursue virtue and shun vice; in the second, -he shows the grown man that nothing in the world is stable; finally, in -Canticles, he brings the consummate one, who has spurned the world, to the -Bridegroom's arms. - - "Three are the modes of cognition (_visiones_) belonging to the - rational soul: cogitation, meditation, contemplation. It is cogitation - when the mind is touched with the ideas of things, and the thing - itself is by its image presented suddenly, either entering the mind - through sense or rising from memory. Meditation is the assiduous and - sagacious revision of cogitation, and strives to explain the involved, - and penetrate the hidden. Contemplation is the mind's perspicacious - and free attention, diffused everywhere throughout the range of - whatever may be explored. There is this difference between meditation - and contemplation: meditation relates always to things hidden from our - intelligence; contemplation relates to things made manifest, either - according to their nature or our capacity. Meditation always is - occupied with some one matter to be investigated; contemplation - spreads abroad for the comprehending of many things, even the - universe. Thus meditation is a certain inquisitive power of the mind, - sagaciously striving to look into the obscure and unravel the - perplexed. Contemplation is that acumen of intelligence which, keeping - all things open to view, comprehends all with clear vision. Thus - contemplation has what meditation seeks. - - "There are two kinds of contemplation: the first is for beginners, and - considers creatures; the kind which comes later, belongs to the - perfect, and contemplates the Creator. In the Proverbs, Solomon - proceeds as through meditation. In Ecclesiastes he ascends to the - first grade of contemplation. In the Song of Songs he transports - himself to the final grade. In meditation there is a wrestling of - ignorance with knowledge; and the light of truth gleams as in a fog of - error. So fire is kindled with difficulty in a heap of green wood; but - then fanned with stronger breath, the flame burns higher, and we see - volumes of smoke rolling up, with flame flashing through. Little by - little the damp is exhausted, and the leaping fire dispels the smoke. - Then _victrix flamma_ darting through the heap of crackling wood, - springs from branch to branch, and with lambent grasp catches upon - every twig; nor does it rest until it penetrates everywhere and draws - into itself all that it finds which is not flame. At length the whole - combustible material is purged of its own nature and passes into the - similitude and property of fire; then the din is hushed, and the - voracious fire having subdued all, and brought all into its own - likeness, composes itself to a high peace and silence, finding nothing - more that is alien or opposed to itself. First there was fire with - flame and smoke; then fire with flame, without smoke; and at last pure - fire with neither flame nor smoke." - -So the _victrix flamma_ achieves the three stages of spiritual insight, -fighting its way through the smoke of cogitation, through the smoke and -flame of meditation, and at last through the flame of creature -contemplation, to the high peace of God, where all is love's ardent -vision, without flame or smoke. It is thus through the grades of knowledge -that the soul reaches at last that fulness of intelligence which may be -made perfect and inflamed with love, in the contemplation of God. All -knowledge is good according to its grade; only let it always lead on to -God, and with humility. Hugo makes his principles clear at the opening of -his commentary on the _Celestial Hierarchy_ of Dionysius.[493] - - "_The Jews seek a sign, and the Greeks wisdom._ There was a certain - wisdom which seemed such to them who knew not the true wisdom. The - world found it, and began to be puffed up, thinking itself great in - this. Confiding in its wisdom, it presumed, and boasted that it would - attain the highest wisdom.... And it made itself a ladder of the face - of the creation, shining toward the invisible things of the - Creator.... Then those things which were seen were known, and there - were other things which were not known; and through those which were - manifest they expected to reach those which were hidden; and they - stumbled and fell into the falsehoods of their own imaginings.... So - God made foolish the wisdom of this world; and He pointed out another - wisdom, which seemed foolishness, and was not. For it preached Christ - crucified, in order that truth might be sought in humility. But the - world despised it, wishing to contemplate the works of God, which He - had made to be marvelled at, and it did not wish to venerate what He - had set for imitation. Neither did it look to its own disease, and - seek a medicine with piety; but presuming on a false health, it gave - itself over with vain curiosity to the study of alien matters." - -This study made the wisdom of the world, whereby it devised the arts and -sciences which we still learn. But the world in its pride did not read -aright the great book of nature. It had not the knowledge of the true -Exemplar, for the sanitation of its inner vision, to wit, the flesh of the -eternal Word in the humanity of Jesus. - - "There were two images (_simulacra_) set for man, in which he might - perceive the unseen: one consisting of nature, the other of grace. The - former image was the face of this world; the latter was the humanity - of the Word. And God is shown in both, but He is not understood in - both; since the appearance of nature discloses the artificer, but - cannot illuminate the eyes of him who contemplates it." - -Hugo then classifies the sciences in the usual Aristotelian way, and shows -that Christian theology is the end of all philosophy. The first part of -_philosophia theorica_ is mathematics, which speculates as to the visible -forms of visible things. The second is physics, which scrutinizes the -invisible causes of visible things. The third, theology, alone -contemplates invisible substances and their invisible natures. Herein is a -certain progression; and the mind mounts to knowledge of the true. Through -the visible forms of visible things, it comes to invisible causes of -visible things; and through the invisible causes of visible things, it -ascends to invisible substances, and to knowing their natures. This is the -summit of philosophy and the perfection of truth. In this, as already -said, the wise of this world were made foolish; because proceeding by the -natural document alone, making account only of the elements and appearance -of the world, they missed the instructive instances of Grace: which in -spite of humble guise afford the clearer insight into truth. - -This is Hugo's scheme of knowledge; it begins with _cogitatio_, then -proceeds through _meditatio_ to _contemplatio_ of the creature world, and -finally of the Creator. The arts and sciences, as well as the face of -nature, afford a _simulacrum_ of the unseen Power; but all this knowledge -by itself will not bring man to the perfect knowledge of God. For this he -needs the _exemplaria_ of Grace, shown through the incarnation of the -Word. Only by virtue of this added means, may man attain to perfect -contemplation of the truth of God. That end and final summit is beyond -reason's reach; but the attainment of rational knowledge makes part of the -path thither. Keen as was Hugo's intellectual nature, his interest in -reason was coupled with a deeper interest in that which reason might -neither include nor understand. The intellect does not include the -emotional and immediately desiderative elements of human nature; neither -can it comprehend the infinite which is God; and Hugo drew toward God not -only through his intellect, but likewise through his desiderative nature, -with its yearnings of religious love. That love with him was rational, -since its object satisfied his mind as far as his mind could comprehend -it. - -So Hugo's intellectual interests were connected with the emotional side of -human nature, and also led up to what transcended reason. Thus they led to -what was a mystery because too great for human reason, and they included -that which also was somewhat of a mystery to reason because lying partly -outside its sphere. Hugo is an instance of the intellectual nature which -will not rest in reason's province, but feels equally impelled to find -expression for matters that either exceed the mind, or do not altogether -belong to it. Such an intellect is impelled to formulate its convictions -in regard to these; its negative conviction that it cannot comprehend -them, and why it cannot; and its more positive conviction of their -value--of the absolute worth of God, and of man's need of Him, and of the -love and fear by which men may come close to Him, or avoid His wrath. - -What Hugo has had to say as to cogitation, meditation, and contemplation, -represents his analysis of the stages by which a sufficing sense may be -reached of the Creator and His world of creature-kind. In this final -wisdom and ardour of contemplation, both human reason and human love have -part. The intellect advances along its lines, considering the world, and -drawing inferences as to the unseen Being who created and sustains it. -Mind's unaided power will not reach. But by the grace of God, supremely -manifested in the Incarnation, the man is humbled, and his heart is -touched and drawn to love the power of the divine pity and humility. The -lesson of the Incarnation and its guiding grace, emboldens the heart and -enlightens the mind; and the man's faculties are strengthened and uplifted -to the contemplation of God, wherein the mind is satisfied and the heart -at rest. - -We have here the elements of piety, intellectual and devotional. Hugo is -an example of their union; they also preserve their equal weight in -Aquinas. But because Hugo emphasizes the limitations of the intellect, and -so ardently recognizes the heart's yearning and immediacy of -apperception, he is what is styled a mystic; a term which we are now in a -position to consider, and to some extent exchange for other phrases of -more definite significance.[494] - -Quite to avoid the term is not possible, inasmuch as the conception -certainly includes what is mysterious because unknowable through reason. -For it includes a sense of the supreme, a sense of God, who is too great -for human reason to comprehend, and therefore a mystery. And it includes a -yearning toward God, the desire of Him, and the feeling of love. The last -is also mysterious, in that it has not exclusive part with reason, but -springs as well from feeling. Yet the essence or nature of this spirit of -piety which we would analyse, consists in consciousness of the reality of -the object of its yearning or devotion. Not altogether through induction -or deduction, but with an irrational immediacy of conviction, it feels and -knows its object. In place of the knowledge which is mediated through -rational processes, is substituted a conviction upheld by yearning, love's -conviction indeed, of the reality and presence of that which is all the -greater and more worthy because it baffles reason. And the final goal -attainable by this mystic love is, even as the goal of other love, union -with the Beloved. - -The mystic spirit is an essential part of all piety or religion, which -relates always and forever to the rationally unknown, and therefore -mysterious. Without a consciousness of mystery, there can be neither piety -nor religion. Nor can there be piety without some devotion to God, nor the -deepest and most ardent forms of piety, without fervent love of God. This -devotion and this love supply strength of conviction, creating a realness -of communion with the divine, and an assurance of the soul's rest and -peace therein. But that the intellect has part, Hugo abundantly -demonstrates. One must have perceptions, and thought's severest -wrestlings--_cogitatio_ and _meditatio_--before reaching that first stage -of wide and sure intelligence, which relates to the creature world, and -affords a broad basis of assurance, whence at last the soul shall spring -to God. Intellectual perceptions and rational knowledge, and all the -mind's puttings together of its data in inductions and deductions and -constructions, form a basis for contemplation, and yield material upon -which the emotional side of human nature may exercise itself in yearning -and devotion. Herein the constructive imagination works; which is -intellectual faculty illuminated and impelled by the emotions. - -This spirit actualizes itself in the power and scope of its resultant -conviction, by which it makes real to itself the qualities, attributes, -and actions of its object, God, and the nature of man's relationship or -union with the divine. In its final energy, when only partly conscious of -its intellectual inductions, it discards syllogisms, quite dissatisfied -with their devious and hesitating approach. Instead, by the power of love, -it springs directly to its God. Nevertheless the soul which feels the -inadequacy of reason even to voice the soul's desires, will seek means of -expression wherein reason still will play a submerged part. The soul is -seeking to express what is not altogether expressible in direct and -rational statement. It seeks adumbrations, partial unveilings of its -sentiments, which shall perhaps make up in warmth of colour what they lack -in definiteness of line. In fine, it seeks symbols. Such symbolism must be -large and elastic, in order to shadow forth the soul's relations with the -Infinite; it must also be capable of carrying passion, that it may satisfy -the soul's craving to give voice to its great love. - -In Greek thought as well as in the Hellenizing Judaism of a Philo, -symbolism, or more specifically speaking, allegorical interpretation, was -obviously apologetic, seeking to cloud in naturalistic interpretations the -doings of the rather over-human gods of Greece.[495] But it sprang also -from the unresting need of man to find expression for that sense of things -which will not fit definite statement. This was the need which became -creative, and of necessity fancifully creative, with Plato. Though he -would have nothing to do with falsifying apologetics, all the more he felt -the need of allegories, to suggest what his dialectic could not -formulate. In the early times of the Church militant of Christ, -allegorical interpretation was exploited to defend the Faith; in the later -patristic period, the Faith had so far triumphed, that allegory as a sword -of defence and attack might be sheathed, or just allowed to glitter now -and then half-drawn. But piety's other need, with increasing energy, -compelled the use of symbols and articulate allegory to express the -directly inexpressible. Thereafter through the Middle Ages, while the use -of allegory as a defence against the Gentiles slumbered, so much more the -other need of it, and the sense of the universal symbolism of material -things, filled the minds of men; and in age-long answer to this need, -allegory, symbolism, became part of the very spirit of the mediaeval time. - -Thus it became the universal vehicle of pious expression: it may be said -almost to have co-extended with all mediaeval piety. It was ardently -loving, as with St. Bernard; it might be filled with scarlet passion, as -with Mechthild of Magdeburg; or it might be used in the self-conscious, -and yet inspired vision-pictures of Hildegard of Bingen. And indeed with -almost any mediaeval man or woman, it might keep talking, as a way of -speech, obtrusively, conventionally, _ad nauseam_. For indeed in treatise -after treatise even of the better men, allegory seems on the one hand to -become very foolish and perverse, banal, intolerably talking on and on -beyond the point; or again we sense its mechanism, hear the creaking of -its jaws, while no living voice emerges,--and we suspect that the mystery -of life, if it may not be compassed by direct statement, also lies deeper -than allegorical conventions. - -Hugo's great _De sacramentis_ showed the equipoise of intellectual and -pietistic interests in him, and the Platonic quality of his mind's sure -sense of the reality of the supersensual.[496] Other treatises of his show -his yearning piety, and the Augustinian quality of his soul, "made toward -thee, and unquiet till it rests in thee." The _De arca Noe morali_,[497] -that is to say, the Ark of Noah viewed in its moral significance, is -charming in its spiritual refinement, and interesting in its catholic -intellectual reflections. The Prologue presents a situation: - - "As I was sitting once among the brethren, and they were asking - questions, and I replying, and many matters had been cited and - adduced, it came about that all of us at once began to marvel - vehemently at the unstableness and disquiet of the human heart; and we - began to sigh. Then they pleaded with me that I would show them the - cause of such whirlings of thought in the human heart; and they - besought me to set forth by what art or exercise of discipline this - evil might be removed. I indeed wished to satisfy my brethren, so far - as God might aid me, and untie the knot of their questions, both by - authority and by argument. I knew it would please them most if I - should compose my matter to read to them at table. - - "It was my plan to show first whence arise such violent changes in - man's heart, and then how the mind may be led to keep itself in stable - peace. And although I had no doubt that this is the proper work of - grace, rather than of human labour, nevertheless I know that God - wishes us to co-operate. Besides it is well to know the magnitude of - our weakness and the mode of its repairing, since so much the deeper - will be our gratitude. - - "The first man was so created, that if he had not sinned, he would - always have beheld in present contemplation his Creator's face, and by - always seeing Him, would have loved Him always, and, by loving, would - always have clung close to Him, and by clinging to Him who was - eternal, would have possessed life without end. Evidently the one true - good of man was perfect knowledge of his Creator. But he was driven - from the face of the Lord, since for his sin he was struck with the - blindness of ignorance, and passed from that intimate light of - contemplation; and he inclined his mind to earthly desires, as he - began to forget the sweetness of the divine. Thus he was made a - wanderer and fugitive over the earth. A wanderer indeed, because of - disordered concupiscence; and a fugitive, through guilty conscience, - which feels every man's hand against it. For every temptation will - overcome the man who has lost God's aid. - - "So man's heart which had been kept secure by divine love, and one by - loving one, afterwards began to flow here and there through earthly - desires. For the mind which knows not to love its true good, is never - stable and never rests. Hence restlessness, and ceaseless labour, and - disquiet, until the man turns and adheres to Him. The sick heart - wavers and quivers; the cause of its disease is love of the world; the - remedy, the love of God." - -Hugo's object is to give rest to the restless heart, by directing its love -to God. One still bears in mind his three plains of knowledge, forming -perhaps the three stages of ascent, at the top of which is found the -knowledge that turns to divine contemplation and love. There may be a -direct and simple love of God for simple souls; but for the man of mind, -knowledge precedes love. - - "In two ways God dwells in the human heart, to wit, through knowledge - and through love; yet the dwelling is one, since every one who knows - Him, loves, and no one can love without knowing. Knowledge through - cognition of the Faith erects the structure; love through virtue, - paints the edifice with colour."[498] - -Then make a habitation for God in thy heart. This is the great matter, and -indeed all: for this, Scripture exists, and the world was made, and God -became flesh, through His humility making man sublime. The Ark of Noah is -the type of this spiritual edifice, as it is also the type of the Church. - -The piety and allegory of this work rise as from a basis of knowledge. The -allegory indeed is drawn out and out, until it seems to become sheer -circumlocution. This was the mediaeval way, and Hugo's too, alas! We will -not follow further in this treatise, nor take up his _De arca Noe -mystica_,[499] which carries out into still further detail the symbolism -of the Ark, and applies it to the Church and the people of God. Hugo has -also left a colloquy between man and his soul on the true love, which lies -in spiritual meditation.[500] But it is clear that the reaches of Hugo's -yearning are still grounded in intellectual considerations, though these -may be no longer present in the mind of him whose consciousness is -transformed to love. - -One may discern the same progression, from painful thought to surer -contemplation, and thence to the heart's devoted communion, in him whom we -have called the Thor and Loki of the Church. No twelfth-century soul loved -God more zealously than St. Bernard. He was not strong in abstract -reasoning. His mind needed the compulsion of the passions to move it to -sublime conclusions. Commonly he is dubbed a mystic. But his piety and -love of God poise themselves on a basis of consideration before springing -to soar on other wings. In his _De consideratione_,[501] Bernard explains -that word in the sense given by Hugo to _meditatio_, while he uses -_contemplatio_ very much as Hugo does. It applies to things that have -become certain to the mind, while "_consideratio_ is busy investigating. -In this sense _contemplatio_ may be defined as the true and certain -intuition of the mind (_intuitus animi_) regarding anything, or the sure -apprehension of the true: while _consideratio_ is thought intently -searching, or the mind's endeavour to track out the true."[502] - -_Contemplatio_, even though it forget itself in ecstasy, must be based on -prior consideration; then it may take wings of its own, or rather (with -orthodox Hugo and Bernard) wings of grace, and fly to the bosom of its -God. This flight is the immediacy of conviction and the ecstasy which -follows. One may even perceive the thinking going on during the soul's -outpour of love. For the mind still supports the soul's ardour with -reasonings, original or borrowed, as appears in the second sermon of that -long series preached by Bernard on Canticles to his own spiritual _élite_ -of Clairvaux.[503] The saintly orator is yearning, yearning for Christ -Himself; he will have naught of Moses or Isaiah; nor does he desire -dreams, or care for angels' visits: _ipse, ipse me osculetur_, cries his -soul in the words of Canticles--let _Him_ kiss me. The phrasing seems -symbolical; but the yearning is direct, and at least rhetorically -overmastering. The emotion is justified by its reasons. They lie in the -personality of Christ and Bernard's love of Him, rising from all his -knowledge of Him, even from his experience of Jesus' whisperings to the -soul. He knows how vastly Jesus surpasses the human prophets who -prefigured or foretold Him: _ipsos longe superat Jesus meus_--the word -_meus_ is love's very articulation. The orator cries: "Listen! Let the -kissing mouth be the Word assuming flesh; and the mouth kissed be the -flesh which is assumed; then the kiss which is consummated between them is -the _persona_ compacted of the two, to wit, the mediator of God and men, -the man Christ Jesus." - -This identical allegory goes back to Origen's _Commentary on Canticles_. -Bernard has kindled it with an intimate love of Jesus, which is not -Origen's. But the thought explains and justifies Bernard's desire to be -kissed by the kiss of His mouth, and so to be infolded in the divine love -which "gave His only-begotten Son," and also became flesh. _Os osculans_ -signifies the Incarnation: one realizes the emotional power which that -saving thought would take through such a metaphor. At the end of his -sermon, Bernard sums up the conclusion, so that his hearers may carry it -away: - - "It is plain that this holy kiss was a grace needed by the world, to - give faith to the weak, and satisfy the desire of the perfect. The - kiss itself is none other than the mediator of God and men, the man - Christ Jesus, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns - God, _per omnia saecula saeculorum_, Amen." - - -III - -There is small propriety in speaking of these men of the first half of the -twelfth century as Platonists or Aristotelians; nor is there great -interest in trying to find in Plato or Aristotle or Plotinus the specific -origin of any of their thoughts. They were apt to draw on the source -nearest and most convenient; and one must remember that their immediate -philosophic antecedents were not the distinct systems of Plato and -Aristotle and Plotinus, but rather the late pagan eras of eclecticism, -followed by that strongly motived syntheticism of the Church Fathers which -selected whatever might accord with their Christian scheme. So Abaelard -must not be called an Aristotelian. Neither he nor his contemporaries knew -what an Aristotelian was, and when they called Abaelard _Peripateticus_, -they meant one skilled in the logic which was derived from the simpler -treatises of Aristotle's _Organon_. Nor will we call Hugo a Platonist, in -spite of his fine affinities with Plato; for many of Hugo's thoughts, his -classification of the sciences for example, pointed back to Aristotle. - -Abaelard, Hugo, St. Bernard suggest the triangulation of the epoch's -intellectual interests. Peter Lombard, somewhat their junior, presents its -compend of accepted and partly digested theology. He took his method from -Abaelard, and drew whole chapters of his work from Hugo; but his great -source, which was also theirs, was Augustine. The Lombard was, and was to -be, a representative man; for his _Sentences_ brought together the -ultimate problems which exercised the minds of the men of his time and -after. - -The early and central decades of the twelfth century offer other persons -who may serve to round out our general notion of the character of the -intellectual interests which occupied the period before the rediscovery of -Aristotle, that is, of the substantial Aristotelian encyclopaedia of -knowledge. Among such Adelard of Bath (England) was somewhat older than -Abaelard. His keen pursuit of knowledge made him one of its early pilgrims -to Spain and Greece. He compiled a book of _Quaestiones naturales_, and -another called _De eodem et diverso_,[504] in which he struggled with the -problem of universals, and with palpable problems of psychology. His -cosmology shows a genial culling from the _Timaeus_ fragment of Plato, and -such other bits of Greek philosophy as he had access to. - -Adelard was influenced by the views of men who taught or studied at -Chartres. Bernard of Chartres, the first of the great Chartrian teachers -of the early twelfth century,[505] wrote on Porphyry, and after his death -was called by John of Salisbury _perfectissimus inter Platonicos saeculi -nostri_. He was one of those extreme realists whose teachings might bear -pantheistic fruit in his disciples; he had also a Platonistic imagination, -leading him to see in Nature a living organism. Bernard's younger brother, -Thierry, also called of Chartres, extended his range of studies, and -compiled numerous works on natural knowledge, indicating his wide reading -and receptive nature. His realism brought him very close to pantheism, -which indeed flowered poetically in his admirer or pupil, Bernard -Silvestris of Tours. - -If we should analyze the contents of the latter's _De mundi universitate_, -it might be necessary to affirm that the author was a dualistic thinker, -in that he recognized two first principles, God and matter; and also that -he was a pantheist, because of the way in which he sees in God the source -of Nature: "This mind (_nous_) of the supreme God is soul (_intellectus_), -and from its divinity Nature is born."[506] One should not, however, drive -the heterogeneous thoughts of these twelfth-century people to their -opposite conclusions. A moderate degree of historical insight should -prevent our interpreting their gleanings from the past by formulas of our -own greater knowledge. Doubtless their books--Hugo's as well as Thierry's -and Bernard Silvester's--have enough of contradiction if we will probe for -it with a spirit not their own. But if we will see with their eyes and -perceive with their feelings, we shall find ourselves resting with each of -them in some unity of personal temperament; and _that_, rather than any -half-borrowed thought, is Hugo or Thierry or Bernard Silvestris. -Silvester's book, _De mundi universitate, sive Megacosmus et microcosmus_, -is a half poem, like Boëthius's _De consolatione_ and a number of -mediaeval productions to which there has been occasion to allude. It is -fruitless to dissect such a composite of prose and verse. In it Natura -speaks to Nous, and then Nous to Natura; the four elements come into play, -and nine hierarchies of angels; the stars in their firmaments, and the -genesis of things on earth; Physics and her daughters, Theorica and -Practica, and all the figures of Greek mythology. An analysis of such a -book will turn it to nonsense, and destroy the breath of that -twelfth-century temperament which loved to gather driftwood from the -wreckage of the ancient world of thought. Thus perhaps they expected to -draw to themselves, even from the pagan flotsam, some congenial -explanation of the universe and man. - -A far more acute thinker was Gilbert de la Porrée,[507] who taught at -Chartres for a number of years, before advancing upon Paris in 1141. He -next became Bishop of Poictiers, and died in 1154. Like Abaelard, he was -primarily a logician, and occupied himself with the problem of universals, -taking a position not so different from Abaelard's. Like Abaelard also, -Gilbert was brought to task before a council, in which St Bernard sought -to be the guiding, _scilicet_, condemning spirit. But the condemnation was -confined to certain sentences, which when cut from their context and -presented in distorting isolation, the author willingly sacrificed to the -flames. He refused, some time afterwards, to discuss his views privately -with the Abbot of Clairvaux, saying that the latter was too inexpert a -theologian to understand them. Gilbert's most famous work, _De sex -principiis_, attempted to complete the last six of Aristotle's ten -_Categories_, which the philosopher had treated cursorily; it was almost -to rival the work of the Stagirite in authority, for instance, with -Albertus Magnus, who wrote a Commentary upon it in the same spirit with -which he commented on the logical treatises of the _Organon_. - -In the same year with Gilbert (1154) died a man of different mental -tendencies, William of Conches,[508] who likewise had been a pupil of -Bernard of Chartres. He was for a time the tutor of Henry Plantagenet. -William was interested in natural knowledge, and something of a humanist. -He made a Commentary on the _Timaeus_, and wrote various works on the -philosophy of Nature, in which he wavered around an atomistic explanation -of the world, yet held fast to the Biblical Creation, to save his -orthodoxy. He also pursued the study of medicine, which was a specialty at -Chartres; through the treatises of Constantinus Africanus[509] he had some -knowledge of the pathological theories of Galen and Hippocrates. For his -interest in physical knowledge, he may be regarded as a precursor of -Roger Bacon. On the other hand, he was a humanist in his strife against -those "Cornificiani" who would know no more Latin than was needful;[510] -and he compiled from the pagan moralists a sort of _Summa_. It is called, -in fact, a _Summa moralium philosophorum_ (an interesting title, -connecting it with the Christian _Summae sententiarum_).[511] It treats -the virtues under the head of _de honesto_; and under that of _de utile_, -reviews the other good things of mind, body, and estate. It also discusses -whether there may be a conflict between the _honestum_ and the _utile_. - -These men of the first half of the twelfth century lived before the new -revealing of the Aristotelian philosophy and natural knowledge coming at -the century's close. Their muster is finally completed by two younger men, -the one an Englishman and the other a Lowlander. The youthful years of -both synchronize with the old age of the men of whom we have been -speaking. For John of Salisbury was born not far from the year 1115, and -died in 1180; and Alanus de Insulis (Lille) was probably born in 1128, and -lived to the beginning of the next century. They are spiritually connected -with the older men because they were taught by them, and because they had -small share in the coming encyclopaedic knowledge. But they close the -group: John of Salisbury closing it by virtue of his critical estimate of -its achievement; Alanus by virtue of his final rehandling of the body of -intellectual data at its disposal, to which he may have made some slight -addition. Abaelard knew and used the simpler treatises of the Aristotelian -_Organon_ of logic. He had not studied the _Analytics_ and the _Topics_, -and of course was unacquainted with the body of Aristotle's philosophy -outside of logic. John of Salisbury and Alanus know the entire _Organon_; -but neither one nor the other knows the rest of Aristotle, which Alexander -of Hales was the first to make large use of. - -John of Salisbury, Little John, Johannes Parvus, as he was called, was the -best classical scholar of his time.[512] His was an acute and active -intellect, which never tired of hearing and weighing the views of other -men. He was, moreover, a man of large experience, travelling much, and -listening to all the teachers prominent in his youth. Also he was active -in affairs, being at one time secretary to Thibaut, Archbishop of -Canterbury, and then the intimate of Becket, of Henry II., and Pope Adrian -IV.! A finished scholar, who knew not one thing, but whatever might be -known, and was enlightened by the training of the world, Little John -critically estimates the learning and philosophy of the men he learns -from. Having always an independent point of view he makes acute remarks -upon it all, and admirable contributions to the sum of current thought. -But chiefly he seems to us as one who looks with even eye upon whatsoever -comes within his vision. He knows the weaknesses of men and the -limitations of branches of discipline; knows, for instance, that dialectic -is sterile by itself, but efficient as an aid to other disciplines. So, as -to logic, John keeps his own point of view, and is always reasonable and -practical.[513] Likewise, with open mind, he considers what there may be -in the alleged science of the Mathematicians, _i.e._ diviners and -astrologers. He uses such phrases as "_probabilia quidem sunt haec ... sed -tamen_ the venom lies under the honey!" For this science sets a fatal -necessity on things, and would even intrude into the knowledge of the -future reserved for God's majesty. And as John considers the order of -events to come, and the diviner's art, _cornua succrescunt_--the horns of -more than one dilemma grow.[514] - -John knew more than any man of the ancient philosophies.[515] For himself, -of course he loved knowledge; yet he would not dissever it from its value -in the art of living. "Wisdom indeed is a fountain, from which pour forth -the streams which water the whole earth; they fill not alone the garden of -delights of the divine page, but flow on to the Gentiles, and do not -altogether fail even the Ethiopians.... It is certain that the faithful -and wise reader, who from love keeps learning's watch, escapes vice and -draws near to life."[516] Philosophy is the _moderatrix omnium_ (a -favourite phrase with John); the true philosopher, as Plato says, is a -lover of God: and so _philosophia_ is _amor divinitatis_. Its precept is -to love God with all our strength, and our neighbour as ourselves: "He who -by philosophizing has reached _charitas_, has attained philosophy's true -end."[517] John goes on to show how deeply they err who think philosophy -is but a thing of words and arguments: many of those who multiply words, -by so doing burden the mind. Virtue inseparably accompanies wisdom; this -is John's sum of the matter. Clearly he is not always, or commonly, -wrestling with ultimate metaphysical problems; he busies himself, acutely -but not metaphysically, with the wisdom of life. He too can use the -language of piety and contemplation. In the sixth chapter of his _De -septem septenis_ (The seven Sevens) he gives the seven grades of -contemplation--_meditatio_, _soliloquium_, _circumspectio_, _ascensio_, -_revelatio_, _emissio_, _inspiratio_.[518] He presents the matter -succinctly, thus perhaps giving clarity to current pietistic phraseology. - -Alanus de Insulis was a man of renown in his life-time, and after his -death won the title of Doctor Universalis. Although the fame of scholar, -philosopher, theologian, poet, may have uplifted him during his years of -strength, he died a monk at Citeaux, in the year 1202. Fame came justly to -him, for he was learned in the antique literature, and a gifted Latin -poet, while as thinker and theologian he made skilful and catholic use of -his thorough knowledge of whatever the first half of the twelfth century -had achieved in thought and system. Elsewhere he has been considered as a -poet;[519] here we merely observe his position and accomplishment in -matters of salvation and philosophy.[520] - -Alanus possessed imagination, language, and a faculty of acute exposition. -His sentences, especially his definitions, are pithy, suggestive, and -vivid. He projected much thought as well as fantasy into his poem, -_Anticlaudianus_, and his _cantafable_, _De planctu naturae_. He showed -himself a man of might, and insight too, in his _Contra haereticos_. His -suggestive pithiness of diction lends interest to his encyclopaedia of -definitions, _Distinctiones dictionum theologicalium_; and his keen power -of reasoning succinctly from axiomatic premises is evinced in his _De arte -fidei catholicae_. - -The intellectual activities of Alanus fell in the latter decades of the -twelfth century, when mediaeval thought seemed for the moment to be -mending its nets, and preparing for a further cast in the new waters of -Aristotelianism. Alanus is busy with what has already been won; he is -unconscious of the new greater knowledge, which was preparing its -revelations. He is not even a man of the transition from the lesser to the -greater intellectual estate; but is rather a final compendium of the -lesser. Himself no epoch-making reasoner, he uses the achievements of -Abaelard and Hugo, of Gilbert de la Porrée and William of Conches, and -others. Neither do his works unify and systematize the results of his -studies. He is rather a re-phraser. Yet his refashioning is not a mere -thing of words; it proceeds with the vitalizing power of the man's plastic -and creative temperament. One may speak of him as keen and acquisitive -intellectually, and creative through his temperament. - -Alanus shows a catholic receptivity for all the mingled strains of -thought, Platonic, Aristotelian, Neo-Platonic and Pythagorean, which fed -the labours of his predecessors. He has studied the older sources, the -_Timaeus_ fragment, also Apuleius and Boëthius of course. His chief -blunder is his misconception of Aristotle as a logician and confuser of -words (_verborum turbator_)--a phrase, perhaps, consciously used with -poetic license. For he has made use of much that came originally from the -Stagirite. Within his range of opportunity, Alanus was a universal reader, -and his writings discover traces of the men of importance from -Pseudo-Dionysius and Eriugena down to John of Salisbury and Gundissalinus. - -These remarks may take the place of any specific presentation of Alanus's -work in logic, of his view of universals, of his notions of physics, of -nature, of matter and form, of man's mind and body, and of the Triune -Godhead.[521] In his cosmology, however, we may note his imaginatively -original employment of the conception or personification of Nature. God is -the Creator, and Nature is His creature, and His vice-regent or vicarious -maker, working the generation and decay of things material and -changeable.[522] This thought, imaginatively treated, makes a good part of -the poetry of the _De planctu_ and the _Anticlaudianus_. The conception -with him is full of charming fantasy, and we look back through Bernardus -Silvestris and other writers to Plato's divine fooling in the _Timaeus_, -not as the specific, but generic, origin of such imaginative views of the -contents and generation of the world. Such imaginings were as fantasy to -science, when compared with the solid and comprehensive consideration of -the material world which was to come a few years after Alanus's death -through the encyclopaedic Aristotelian knowledge presented in the works of -Alexander of Hales and Albertus Magnus. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII - -THE UNIVERSITIES, ARISTOTLE, AND THE MENDICANTS - - -Intellectually, the thirteenth century in western Europe is marked by -three closely connected phenomena: the growth of Universities, the -discovery and appropriation of Aristotle, and the activities of Dominicans -and Franciscans. These movements were universal, in that the range of none -of them was limited by racial or provincial boundaries. Yet a line may -still be drawn between Italy, where law and medicine were cultivated, and -the North, where theology with logic and metaphysics were supreme. -Absorption in these subjects produced a common likeness in the -intellectual processes of men in France, England, and Germany, whose -writings were to be no longer markedly affected by racial idiosyncrasies. -This was true of the logical controversy regarding universals, so -prominent in the first part of the twelfth century. It was very true of -the great intellectual movement of the later twelfth and the thirteenth -centuries, to wit, the coming of Aristotle to dominance, in spite of the -counter-currents of Platonic Augustinianism. - -The men who followed the new knowledge had slight regard for ties of home, -and travelled eagerly in search of learning. So, even as from far and wide -those who could study Roman law came to Bologna, the study of theology and -all that philosophy included drew men to Paris. Thither came the -keen-minded from Italy and from England; from the Low Countries and from -Germany; and from the many very different regions now covered by the name -of France. Wherever born and of whatever race, the devotees of philosophy -and theology at some period of their career reached Paris, learned and -taught there, and were affected by the universalizing influence of an -international aggregate of scholarship. So had it been with Breton -Abaelard, with German Hugo, and with Lombard Peter; so with English John, -hight of Salisbury. And in the following times of culmination, Albertus -Magnus comes in his maturity from Germany; and his marvellous pupil -Thomas, born of noble Norman stock in southern Italy, follows his master, -eventually to Paris. So Bonaventura of lowly mid-Italian birth likewise -learns and teaches there; and that unique Englishman, Roger Bacon, and -after him Duns Scotus. These few greatest names symbolize the centralizing -of thought in the crowded and huddled lecture-rooms of the City on the -Seine. - -The origins of the great mediaeval Universities can scarcely be -accommodated to simple statement. Their history is frequently obscure, and -always intricate; and the selection of a specific date or factor as -determining the inception, or distinctive development, of these mediaeval -creations is likely to be but arbitrary. They had no antique prototype: -nothing either in Athens or Rome ever resembled these corporations of -masters and students, with their authoritative privileges, their fixed -curriculum, and their grades of formally certified attainment. Even the -Alexandria of the Ptolemies, with all the pedantry of its learned -litterateurs and their minute study of the past, has nothing to offer like -the scholastic obsequiousness of the mediaeval University, which sought to -set upon one throne the antique philosophy and the Christian revelation, -that it might with one and the same genuflection bow down before them -both. It behoves us to advert to the conditions influencing the growth of -Universities, and give a little space to those which were chief among -them. - -The energetic human advance distinguishing the twelfth century in western -Europe exhibits among its most obvious phenomena an increased mobility in -all classes of society, and a tendency to gather into larger communities -and form strong corporate associations for profit or protection. New towns -came into being, and old ones grew apace. Some of them in the north of -Europe wrested their freedom from feudal lords; and both in the north and -south, municipalities attained a more complex organization, while within -them groups of men with common interests formed themselves into powerful -guilds. As strangers of all kinds--merchants, craftsmen, students--came -and went, their need of protection became pressing, and was met in various -ways. - -No kind of men were more quickly touched by the new mobility than the -thousands of youthful learners who desired to extend their knowledge, or, -in some definite field, perfect their education. In the eleventh century, -such would commonly have sought a monastery, near or far. In the twelfth -and then in the thirteenth, they followed the human currents to the -cities, where knowledge flourished as well as trade, and tolerable -accommodation might be had for teachers and students. Certain towns, some -for more, some for less, obvious reasons, became homes of study. Bologna, -Paris, Oxford are the chief examples. Irnerius, famed as the founder of -the systematic study of the Roman law, and Gratian, the equally famous -orderer of the Canon law, taught or wrote at Bologna when the twelfth -century was young. Their fame drew crowds of laymen and ecclesiastics, who -desired to equip themselves for advancement through the business of the -law, civil or ecclesiastical. At the same time, hundreds, which grew to -thousands, were attracted to the Paris schools--the school of Notre Dame, -where William of Champeaux held forth; the school of St. Victor, where he -afterwards established himself, and where Hugo taught; and the school of -St. Geneviève, where Abaelard lectured on dialectic and theology. These -were palpable gatherings together of material for a University. What first -brought masters and students to Oxford a few decades later is not so -clear. But Oxford had been an important town long before a University -lodged itself there. - -In the twelfth century, citizenship scarcely protected one beyond the city -walls. A man carried but little safety with him. Only an insignificant -fraction of the students at Bologna, and of both masters and students at -Paris and Oxford, were citizens of those towns. The rest had come from -everywhere. Paris and Bologna held an utterly cosmopolitan, international, -concourse of scholar-folk. And these scholars, turbulent enough -themselves, and dwelling in a turbulent foreign city, needed affiliation -there, and protection and support. Organization was an obvious necessity, -and if possible the erection of a _civitas_ within a _civitas_, a -University within a none too friendly town. This was the primal situation, -and the primal need. Through somewhat different processes, and under -different circumstances, these exigencies evoked a University in Bologna, -Paris, and Oxford.[523] - -In Italy, where the instincts of ancient Rome never were extinguished, -where some urban life maintained itself through the early helpless -mediaeval centuries, where during the same period an infantile humanism -did not cease to stammer; where "grammar" was studied and taught by -laymen, and the "ars dictaminis" practised men in the forms of legal -instruments, it was but natural that the new intellectual energies of the -twelfth century should address themselves to the study of the Roman law, -which, although debased and barbarized, had never passed into desuetude. -And inasmuch as abstract theology did not attract the Italian temperament -or meet the conditions of papal politics in Italy, it was likewise natural -that ecclesiastical energies should be directed to the equally useful and -closely related canon law. Such studies with their practical ends could -best be prosecuted at some civic centre. In the first part of the twelfth -century, Irnerius lectured at Bologna upon the civil law; a generation -later, Gratian published his _Decretum_ there. The specific reasons -inducing the former to open his lectures in that city are not known; but a -large and thrifty town set at the meeting of the great roads from central -Italy to the north and east, was an admirable place for a civil doctor and -his audience, as the event proved. Gratian was a monk in a Bologna -convent, and may have listened to Irnerius. The publication of his -_Decretum_ from Bologna, by that time (cir. 1142) famous for -jurisprudence, lent authority to this work, whose universal recognition -was to enhance in turn Bologna's reputation. - -From the time of this inception of juristic studies, the talents of the -doctors, and the city's fame, drew a prodigious concourse of students from -all the lands of western Europe. The Doctors of the Civil and Canon Laws -organized themselves into one, and subsequently into two, Colleges. -Apparently they had become an efficient association by the third quarter -of the twelfth century. But the University of Bologna was to be -constituted _par excellence_, not of one or more colleges of doctors, but -of societies of students. The persons who came for legal instruction were -not boys getting their first education in the Arts. They were men studying -a profession, and among them were many individuals of wealth and -consequence, holding perhaps civil or ecclesiastic office in the places -whence they came. The vast majority had this in common, that they were -foreigners, with no civil rights in Bologna. It behoved them to organize -for their protection and mutual support, and for the furtherance of the -purposes for which they had come. That a body of men in a foreign city -should live under the law of their own home, or the law of their own -making, did not appear extraordinary in the twelfth century. It was not so -long since the principle that men carried the law of their home with them, -had been widely recognized, and in all countries the clergy still lived -under the law of the Church. The gains accruing from the presence of a -great number of foreign students might induce the authorities of Bologna -to permit them to organize as student guilds, and regulate their affairs -by rules of their own, even as was done by other guilds in most Italian -cities. At Bologna the power of Guelf and Ghibeline clubs, and of -craftsmen's guilds, rivalled that of the city magistrates. - -There is some indirect evidence that these students first divided -themselves into four _Nationes_. If so, the arrangement did not last. For -by the middle of the thirteenth century they are found organized in two -_Universitates_, or corporations, a _Universitas Citramontanorum_ and a -_Universitas Ultramontanorum_; each under its own _Rector_. These two -corporations of foreign students constituted the University. The -Professors did not belong to them, and therefore were not members of the -University. Indeed they fought against the recognition of this University -of students, asserting that the students were but their pupils. But the -students prevailed, strong in their numbers, and in the weapon which they -did not hesitate to use, that of migration to another city, which cut off -the incomes of the Professors and diminished the repute and revenue of -Bologna. So great became the power of the student body, that it brought -the Professors to complete subjection, paying them their salaries, -regulating the time and mode of lecturing, and compelling them to swear -obedience to the Rectors. The Professors protested, but submitted. To make -good its domination over them, and its independence as against the city, -the student University migrated to Arezzo in 1215 and to Padua in -1222.[524] - -In origin as well as organization, the University of Paris differed from -Bologna. It was the direct successor of the cathedral school of Notre -Dame. This had risen to prominence under William of Champeaux. But -Abaelard drew to Paris thousands of students for William's hundreds (or at -least hundreds for William's tens); and Abaelard at the height of his -popularity taught at the school of St. Geneviève, across the Seine. -Therefore this school also, although fading out after Abaelard's time, -should be regarded as a causal predecessor of the Paris University. So, -for that matter, should the neighbouring school of St. Victor, founded by -the discomfited William; for its reputation under Hugo and Richard drew -devout students from near and far, and augmented the scholastic fame of -Paris. - -It was both the privilege and duty of the Chancellor of Notre Dame to -license competent Masters to open schools near the cathedral. In the -course of time, these Masters formed an Association, and assumed the right -to admit to their Society the licentiates of the Chancellor, to wit, the -new Masters who were about to begin to teach. In the decades following -Abaelard's death, the Masters who lectured in the vicinity of Notre Dame -increased in number. They spread with their schools beyond the island, and -taught in houses on the bridges. They were Masters, that is, teachers, in -the Arts. As the twelfth century gave way to the thirteenth, interest in -the Arts waned before the absorbing passion for metaphysical theology. -This was a higher branch of study, for which the Arts had come to be -looked on as a preparation. So the scholars of the schools of Arts became -impatient to graduate, that is, to reach the grade of Master, in order to -pass on to the higher study of theology. A result was that the course of -study in the Arts was shortened, while Masters multiplied in number. Their -Society seems to have become a definite and formal corporate body or -guild, not later than the year 1175. Herein was the beginning of the Paris -University. It had become a _studium generale_, like Bologna, because -there were many Masters, and students from everywhere were admitted to -study in their schools. - -Gradually the University came to full corporate existence. From about -1210, written statutes exist, passed by the Society of Masters; at the -same date a Bull of Innocent III. recognizes the Society as a Corporation. -Then began a long struggle for supremacy, between the Masters and the -Chancellor: it was the Chancellor's function to grant the licence to -become a Master; but it was the privilege of the Society to admit the -licentiate to membership. The action of both being thus requisite, time -alone could tell with whom the control eventually should rest. Was the -self-governing University to prevail, or the Chancellor of the Cathedral? -The former won the victory. - -The Masters in Arts constituted _par excellence_ the University, because -they far outnumbered the Masters in the upper Faculties of Theology, Law, -and Medicine. They were the dominant body; what they decided on, the other -Faculties acquiesced in. These Masters in Arts, besides being numerous, -were young, not older than the law students at Bologna. With their still -younger students,[525] they made the bulk of the entire University, and -were the persons who most needed protection in their lawful or unlawful -conduct. At some indeterminate period they divided themselves into the -four _Nationes_, French, Normans, Picards, and English. They voted by -_Nationes_ in their meetings; but from a period apparently as early as -their organization, a Rector was elected for all four _Nationes_, and not -one Rector for each. There were, however, occasional schisms or failures -to agree. It was to be the fortune of the Rector thus elected to supplant -the Chancellor of the Cathedral as the real head of the University. - -The vastly greater number of the Masters in Arts were actually _students_ -in the higher Faculties of Theology, Law,[526] or Medicine, for which -graduation in the Arts was the ordinary prerequisite. The Masters or -Doctors of these three higher Faculties, at least from the year 1213, -determined the qualifications of candidates in their departments. -Nevertheless the Rector of the Faculty of Arts continued his advance -toward the headship of the whole University. The oath taken by the -Bachelors in the Arts, of obedience to that Faculty and its Rector, was -strengthened in 1256, so as to bind the oath-taker so long as he should -continue a member of the University. - -The University had not obtained its privileges without insistence, nor -without the protest of action as well as word. Its first charter of -privileges from the king was granted in 1200, upon its protests against -the conduct of the Provost of Paris in attacking riotous students. Next, -in combating the jurisdiction of the Chancellor, it obtained privileges -from the Pope; and in 1229, upon failure to obtain redress for an attack -from the Provost's soldiers, ordered by the queen, Blanche of Castile, the -University dispersed. Thus it resorted to the weapon by which the -University of Bologna had won the confirmation of its rights. In the year -1231 the great Papal Bull, _Parens scientiarum_, finally confirmed the -Paris University in its contentions and demands: the right to suspend -lectures was sanctioned, whenever satisfaction for outrage had been -refused for fifteen days; likewise the authority of the University to -make statutes, and expel members for a breach of them. The Chancellor of -Notre Dame and the Bishop of Paris were both constrained by the same Bull. - -A different struggle still awaited the University, in which it was its -good fortune not to be altogether successful; for it was contending -against instruments of intellectual and spiritual renovation, to wit, the -Mendicant Orders. The details are difficult to unravel at this distance of -time. But the Dominicans and Franciscans, in the lifetime of their -founders, established themselves in Paris, and opened schools of theology. -Their Professors were licensed by the Chancellor, and yet seem to have -been unwilling to fall in with the customs of the University, and, for -example, cease from teaching and disperse, when it saw fit to do so. The -doctors of the theological Faculty became suspicious, and opposed the -admission of Mendicants to the theological Faculty. The struggle lasted -thirty years, until the Dominicans obtained two chairs in that Faculty, -and the Franciscans perhaps the same number, on terms which looked like a -victory for the Orders, but in fact represented a compromise; for the -Mendicant doctors in the end apparently submitted to the statutes of the -University.[527] - -The origin of Oxford University was different, and one may say more -adventitious than that of Paris or Bologna. For Oxford was not the capital -of a kingdom, nor is it known to have been an ancient seat of learning. -The city was not even a bishop's seat, a fact which had a marked effect -upon the constitution of the University. The old town lay at the edge of -Essex and Mercia, and its position early gave it importance politically, -or rather strategically, and as a place of trade. How or whence came the -nucleus of Masters and students that should grow into a University is -unknown. An interesting hypothesis[528] is that it was a colony from -Paris, shaken off by some academic or political disturbance. This surmise -has been connected with the year 1167. Some evidence exists of a school -having existed there before. Next comes a distinct statement from the year -1185, of the reading of a book before the Masters and students.[529] -After this date the references multiply. In 1209, one has a veritable -"dispersion," in protest against the hanging of some scholars. A charter -from the papal legate in 1214 accords certain privileges, among others -that a clerk arrested by the town should be surrendered on demand of the -Bishop of Lincoln[530] or the Archdeacon, or the Chancellor, whom the -Bishop shall set over the scholars. This document points to the beginning -of the chancellorship. The title probably was copied from Paris; but in -Oxford the office was to be totally different. The Paris Chancellor was -primarily a functionary of a great cathedral, who naturally maintained its -prerogatives against the encroachments of university privilege. But at -Oxford there was no cathedral; the Chancellor was the head of the -University, probably chosen from its Masters, and had chiefly its -interests at heart. - -Making allowance for this important difference in the Chancellor's office, -the development of the University closely resembled that of Paris. Its -first extant statute, of the year 1252, prescribes that no one shall be -licensed in Theology who has not previously graduated in the Arts. To the -same year belongs a settlement of disputes between the Irish and northern -scholars. The former were included in the _Australes_ or southerners, one -of the two _Nationes_ composing the Faculty of Arts. The _Australes_ -included the natives of Ireland, Wales, and England south of the Trent; -the other _Natio_, the _Boreales_, embraced the English and Scotch coming -from north of that river. But the division into _Nationes_ was less -important than in the cosmopolitan University of Paris, and soon ceased to -exist. The Faculty of Arts, however, continued even more dominant than at -Paris. There was no serious quarrel with the Mendicant Orders, who -established themselves at Oxford--the Dominicans in 1221, and the -Franciscans three years later. - -The curriculum of studies appears much the same at both Universities, and, -as followed in the middle of the thirteenth century, may be thus -summarized. For the lower degree of Bachelor of Arts, four or five years -were required; and three or four years more for the Master's privileges. -The course of study embraced grammar (Priscian), also rhetoric, and in -logic the entire _Organon_ of Aristotle, preceded by Porphyry's _Isagoge_, -and with the _Sex principia_ of Gilbert de la Porrée added to the course. -The mathematical branches of the Quadrivium also were required: -arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy. And finally a goodly part of -the substantial philosophy of Aristotle was studied, with considerable -choice permitted to the student in his selection from the works of the -philosopher. At Oxford he might choose between the _Physics_ or the _De -coelo et mundo_, or the _De anima_ or the _De animalibus_. The -_Metaphysics_ and _Ethics_ or _Politics_ were also required before the -Bachelor could be licensed as a Master. - -In Theology the course of study was extremely lengthy, especially at -Paris, where eight years made the minimum, and the degree of Doctor was -not given before the candidate had reached the age of thirty-five. The -chief subjects were Scripture and the _Sentences_ of Peter Lombard. -Besides which, the candidate had to approve himself in sermons and -disputations. The latter might amount to a trial of nerve and endurance, -as well as proficiency in learning, since the candidate was expected to -_militare in scholis_, against a succession of opponents from six in the -morning till six in the evening, with but an hour's refreshment at -noon.[531] - -In spite of the many resemblances of Oxford to Paris in organization and -curriculum, the intellectual tendencies of the two Universities were not -altogether similar. At Paris, speculative theology, with metaphysics and -other branches of "philosophy," regarded as its adjuncts, were of -absorbing interest. At Oxford, while the same matters were perhaps -supreme, a closer scholarship in language or philology was cultivated by -Grosseteste, and his pupils, Adam of Marsh and Roger Bacon. The genius of -observation was stirring there; and a natural science was coming into -being, which was not to repose solely upon the authority of ancient books, -but was to proceed by the way of observation and experiment. Yet Roger -Bacon imposed upon both his philology and his natural science a certain -ultimate purpose: that they should subserve the surer ascertainment of -divine and saving truth, and thus still remain handmaids of theology, at -least in theory. - - * * * * * - -The year 1200 may be taken to symbolize the middle of a period notable for -the enlargement of knowledge. If one should take the time of this increase -to extend fifty years on either side of the central point, one might say -that the student of the year 1250 stood to his intellectual ancestor of -the year 1150, as a man in the full possession and use of the -_Encyclopaedia Britannica_ would stand toward his father who had saved up -the purchase money for the same. The most obvious cause of this was an -increasing acquaintance with the productions of the so-called Arabian -philosophy, and more especially with the works of Aristotle, first through -translations from the Arabic, and then through translations from the -Greek, which were made in order to obviate the insufficiency of the -former. - -It would need a long _excursus_ to review the far from simple course of -so-called Arabian thought, philosophic and religious. It begins in the -East, and follows the setting sun. Even before the Hegira (622) the Arabs -had rubbed up against the inhabitants of Syria, Christian in name, eastern -or Hellenic in culture and proclivity. Then in a century or two, when the -first impulsion of Mohammedan conquest was spent, the works of Aristotle -and his later Greek commentators were translated into Arabic from Syrian -versions, under the encouragement of the rulers of Bagdad. The Syrian -versions, as we may imagine, were somewhat eclecticized and, more -especially, Neo-Platonized. So it was not the pure Aristotle that passed -on into Arabic philosophy, but the Aristotelian substance interpreted -through later phases of Greek and Oriental thought. Still, Aristotle was -the great name, and his system furnished the nucleus of doctrine -represented in this Peripatetic eclecticism which was to constitute, _par -excellence_, Arabic philosophy. Also Greek mathematical and medical -treatises were translated into Arabic from Syrian versions. El-Farabi (d. -950) and Avicenna (980-1036) were the chief glories of the Arabic -philosophy of Bagdad. These two gifted men were commentators upon the -works of the Stagirite, and authors of many interesting lucubrations of -their own.[532] Arabian philosophy declined in the East with Avicenna's -death; but only to revive in Mussulman Spain. There its great -representative was Averroes, whose life filled the last three quarters of -the twelfth century. So great became his authority as an Aristotelian, -with the Scholastics, that he received the name of Commentator, _par -excellence_, even as Aristotle was _par excellence_, Philosophus. We need -not consider the ideas of these men which were their own rather than the -Stagirite's; nor discuss the pietistic and fanatical sects among the -Mussulmans, who either sought to harmonize Aristotle with the Koran, or -disapproved of Greek philosophy. One readily perceives that in its task of -acquisition and interpretation, with some independent thinking, and still -more temperamental feeling, Arabic philosophy was the analogue of -Christian scholasticism, of which it was, so to speak, the collateral -ancestor.[533] - -And in this wise. The Commentaries of Averroes, for example, were -translated into Latin; and, throughout all the mediaeval centuries, the -Commentary tended to supplant the work commented on, whether that work was -Holy Scripture or a treatise of Aristotle. By the middle of the thirteenth -century all the important works of Averroes had been translated into -Latin, and he had many followers at Paris; and before then, from the -College of Toledo, had come translations of the principal works of the -other chief Arabian philosophers. Of still greater importance for the -Christian West was the work of Jews and Christians in Spain and Provence, -in translating the Arabic versions of Aristotle into Latin, sometimes -directly, and sometimes first into Hebrew and then into Latin. They -attempted a literal translation, which, however, frequently failed to give -the significance even of the Arabic version. These Arabic-Latin -translations were of primary importance for the first introduction of -Aristotle to the theologian philosophers of Christian Europe. - -They were not to remain the only ones. In the twelfth century, a number of -Western scholars made excursions into the East; and the capture of -Constantinople by the Crusaders in 1204 enlarged their opportunities of -studying the Greek language and philosophy. Attempts at direct translation -into Latin began. One of the first translators was the sturdy Englishman, -Robert Grosseteste. He was born in Suffolk about 1175; studied at Lincoln, -then at Oxford, then at Paris, whence he returned to become Chancellor of -the University of Oxford. He was made Bishop of Lincoln in 1236, and died -seventeen years later. It was he who laid the foundation of the study of -Greek at Oxford, and Roger Bacon was his pupil. But the most important and -adequate translations were the work of two Dominicans, the Fleming, -William of Moerbeke, and Henry of Brabant, who translated the works of -Aristotle at the instance of Thomas Aquinas, possibly all working together -at Rome, in 1263 and the years following. Aquinas recognized the -inadequacy of the older translations, and based his own Aristotelian -Commentaries upon these made by his collaborators, learned in the Greek -tongue. The joint labour of translation and commentary seems to have been -undertaken at the command of Pope Urban IV., who had renewed the former -prohibitions put upon the use of Aristotle at the Paris University, in the -older, shall we say, Averroistic versions. - -If these prohibitions, which did not touch the logical treatises, were -meant to be taken absolutely, such had been far from their effect. In 1210 -and again in 1215, an interdict was put upon the _naturalis philosophia_ -and the _methafisica_ of the Stagirite. It was not revoked, but rather -provisionally renewed, in 1231, until those works should be properly -expurgated. A Commission was appointed which accomplished nothing; and the -old interdict still hung in the air, unrescinded, yet ignored in practice. -So Pope Urban referred to it as still effective--which it was not--in -1263. For Aristotle had been more and more thoroughly exploited in the -Paris University, and by 1255 the Faculty of Arts formally placed his -works upon the list of books to be studied and lectured upon.[534] - -So the founding of Universities and the enlarged and surer knowledge -brought by a study of the works of Aristotle were factors of power in the -enormous intellectual advance which took place in the last half of the -twelfth and the first half of the thirteenth century. Yet these factors -could not have operated as they did, but for the antecedent intellectual -development. Before the first half of the twelfth century had passed, the -patristic material had been mastered, along with the current notions of -antique philosophy, for the most part contained in it. Strengthened by -this discipline, men were prepared for an extension and solidifying of -their knowledge of the universe and man. Not only had they appropriated -what the available sources had to offer, but, when we think of Abaelard -and Hugo of St. Victor, we see that organic restatements had been made of -what had been acquired. Still, men really knew too little. It is very well -to exploit logic, and construct soul-satisfying schemes of cosmogonic -symbolism, in order to represent the deepest truth of the material world. -But the evident sense-realities of things are importunate. The minds even -of spiritual men may, in time, crave explanation of this side of their -consciousness. Abaelard seems to have been oblivious to natural phenomena; -Hugo recognizes them in order to elicit their spiritual meaning; and -Alanus de Insulis, a generation and more afterwards, takes a poet's view -of Nature. Other men had a more hard-headed interest in these phenomena; -but they knew too little to attempt seriously to put them together in -some sense-rational scheme. The natural knowledge presented by the -writings of the Church Fathers was little more than foolishness; the early -schoolmen were their heirs. They observed a little for themselves; but -very little. - -There is an abysmal difference in the amount of natural knowledge -exhibited by any writing of the twelfth century, and the works of Albertus -Magnus belonging say to the middle of the thirteenth. The obvious reason -of this is, that the latter had drawn upon the great volume of natural -observation and hypothesis which for the preceding five hundred years had -been actually closed to western Europe, and for five hundred years before -that had been spiritually closed, because of the ineptitude of men to read -therein. That volume was of course the encyclopaedic Natural Philosophy of -Aristotle, completed, and treated in its ultimate causal relationships, by -his Metaphysics. The Metaphysics, the First Philosophy, gave completeness -and unity to the various provinces of natural knowledge expounded in his -special treatises. For this reason, one finds in the works of Albertus a -fund of natural knowledge solid with the solidity of the earth upon which -one may plant his feet, and totally unlike the beautiful dreaming which -drew its prototypal origins from the skyey mind of Plato. - -The utilization of Aristotle's philosophy by the Englishman, Alexander of -Hales, who became a Franciscan near the year 1230, when he had already -lectured for some thirty years at Paris; its far more elaborate and -complete exposition by the very Teutonic Dominican, Albertus Magnus; and -its even closer exposition and final incorporation within the sum of -Christian doctrine, by Thomas,--this three-staged achievement is the great -mediaeval instance of return to a genuine and chief source of Greek -philosophy. These three schoolmen went back of the accounts and views of -Greek philosophy contained in the writings of the Fathers. And in so doing -they also went back of what was transmitted to the Middle Ages by Boëthius -and other "transmitters."[535] - -But the achievement of these schoolmen had other import. Their work -represents the culmination of the third stage of mediaeval thought: that -of systematic and organic restatement of the substance of the patristic -and antique, with added elements; for there can be no organic restatement -which does not hold and present something from him who achieves it. The -result, attained at least by Thomas, was even more than this. Based upon -the data and assumptions of scholasticism, it was a complete and final -statement of the nature of God so far as that might be known, of the -creature world, corporeal and incorporeal, and especially of man, his -nature, his qualities, his relationship to God and final destiny. And -herein, in its completeness, it was satisfying. The human mind in seeking -explanation of the phenomena of its consciousness--presumably a reflex of -the universe without--tends to seek a unity of explanation. A unity of -explanation requires a completeness in the mental scheme of what is to be -explained. Thoughtful men in the Middle Ages craved a scheme of life -complete even in detail, which should educe life's currents from a primal -Godhead, and project them compacted, with none left straying or pointing -nowhither, on toward universal fulfilment of His will. - -Mediaeval thought had been preceded by whole views, entire schemes of -life. Greek philosophy had held only such from the time when Thales said -that water was the cause of all things. Plato's view or scheme also was -beautiful in its ideally pyramided structure, with the Idea of the Good at -the apex. For Aristotle, knowledge was to be a syllogistic, or at least -rational and jointed, encyclopaedia, rounded, unified, complete. After the -pagan times, another whole scheme was that of Augustine, or again, that of -Gregory the Great, though barbarized and hardened. Thus as patterns for -their own thinking, mediaeval men knew only of entire schemes of thought. -Their creed was, in every sense, a symbol of a completed scheme. And no -mediaeval philosopher or theologian suspected himself of fragmentariness. -Yet, in fact, at first they did but select and compile. After a century -and more of this, they began to make organic statements of parts of -Christian doctrine. So we have Anselm's _Proslogium_ and _Cur Deus Homo_. -Abaelard's _Theologia_ is far more complete; and so is Hugo's _De -sacramentis_, which offers an entire scheme, symbolical, sacramental, -Christian, of God and the world and man. Hugo's scheme might be ideally -satisfying; but little concrete knowledge was represented in it. And when -in the generations following his death, the co-ordinated Aristotelian -encyclopaedia was brought to light and studied, then and thereafter any -whole view of the world must take account of this new volume of argument -and concrete knowledge. Alexander of Hales begins the labour of using it -in a Christian _Summa_; Albertus makes prodigious advance, at least in the -massing and preparation of the full Aristotelian material. Both try for -whole views and comprehensive results. Then Thomas, most highly favoured -in his master Albert, and gifted with a genius for acquisition and -synthetic exposition, incorporates Aristotle, and Aristotle's whole views, -into the whole view presented by the Catholic Faith. - -Thomas's view, to be satisfying, had to be complete. It was knowledge -united and amalgamated into a scheme of salvation. But a scheme of -salvation is a chain, which can hold only in virtue of its completeness; -break one link, and it snaps; leave one rivet loose, and it may also snap. -A scheme of salvation must answer every problem put to it; a single -unanswered problem may imperil it. The problem, for example, of God's -foreknowledge and predestination--that were indeed an open link, which -Thomas will by no means leave unwelded. Hence for us modern men also, -whose views of the universe are so shamelessly partial, leaving so much -unanswered and so much unknown, the philosophy of Thomas may be restful, -and charm by its completeness. - -It is of great interest to observe the apparently unlikely agencies by -which this new volume of knowledge was made generally available. In fact, -it was the new knowledge and the demand for it that forced these agencies -to fulfil the mission of exploiting it. For they had been created for -other purposes, which they also fulfilled. Verily it _happened_ that the -chief means through which the new knowledge was gained and published were -the two new unmonastic Orders of monks, friars rather we may call them. -Francis of Assisi was born in 1182 and died in 1226; Dominic was born in -1177 and died in 1221. The Orders of Minorites and Preachers were founded -by them respectively in 1209 and 1215. Neither Order was founded to -promote secular knowledge. Francis organized his Minorites that they might -imitate the lives of Christ and His apostles, and preach repentance to the -world. Dominic founded his Order to save souls through preaching: "For our -Order is known from the beginning to have been instituted especially for -preaching and the saving of souls, and our study (_studium nostrum_) -should have as the chief object of its labour to enable us to be useful to -our neighbours' souls (_ut proximorum animabus possimus utiles -esse_)."[536] - -Within an apparent similarity of aim, each Order from the first reflected -the temper of its founder; and the temper of Francis was not that of -Dominic. For our purpose here, the difference may perhaps be symbolized by -the Dominican maxim to preach the Gospel throughout the world equally by -word and example (_verbo pariter et exemplo_); and the Franciscan maxim, -to exhort all _plus exemplo quam verbo_.[537] A generation later St -Bonaventura puts it thus: "Alii (scilicet, Praedicatores) principaliter -intendunt speculationi ... et postea unctioni. Alii (scilicet, Minores) -principaliter unctioni et postea speculationi."[538] - -It is safe to say that St Francis had no thought of secular studies; and -as for the Order of Preachers, the Constitutions of 1228 forbade the -Dominicans to study _libros gentilium and seculares scientias_. They are -to study _libros theologicos_.[539] Francis, also, recognized the -necessity of Scriptural study for those Minorites who were allowed to -preach. In these views the early Franciscans and Dominicans were not -peculiar; but rather represented the attitude of the older monastic Orders -and of the stricter secular clergy. The Gospel teaching of Christ had -nothing to do with secular knowledge--explicitly. But the first centuries -of the Church perceived that its defenders should be equipped with the -Gentile learning, into which indeed they had been born. And while Francis -was little of a theologian, and Dominic's personality and career remain -curiously obscure, one can safely say that both founders saw the need of -sacred studies, and left no authoritative expression prohibiting their -Orders from pursuing them to the best advantage for the cause of Christ. -Yet we are not called on to suppose that either founder, in founding his -Order for a definite purpose, foresaw all the means which after his death -might be employed to attain that purpose--or some other! - -The new Order cometh, the old rusteth. So has it commonly been with -Monasticism. Undoubtedly these uncloistered Orders embodied novel -principles of efficiency for the upholding of the Faith: their soldiers -marched abroad evangelizing, and did not keep within their fastnesses of -holiness. The Mendicant Orders were still young, and fresh from the -inspiration of their founders. In those years they moved men's hearts and -drew them to the ideal which had been set for themselves. The result was, -that in the first half of the thirteenth century the greater part of -Christian religious energy girded its loins with the cords of Francis and -Dominic. - -At the commencement of that century, when the Orders of Minorites and -Preachers were founded, the world of Western thought was prepared to make -its own the new Aristotelian volume of knowledge and applied reason. Once -that was opened and its contents perceived, the old -Augustinian-Neo-Platonic ways of thinking could no longer proceed with -their idealizing constructions, ignoring the pertinence of the new data -and their possible application to such presentations of Christian doctrine -as Hugo's _De sacramentis_ or the Lombard's _Sentences_. The new -knowledge, with its methods, was of such insistent import, that it had at -once to be considered, and either invalidated by argument, or accepted, -and perhaps corrected, and then accommodated within an enlarged Christian -Philosophy. - -The spiritual force animating a new religious movement attracts the -intellectual energies of the period, and furnishes them a new reality of -purpose. This was true of early Christianity, and likewise true of the -fresh religious impulse which proceeded from Francis's energy of love and -the organizing zeal of Dominic. From the very years of their foundation, -1209 and 1215, the rapid increase of the two Orders realized their -founders' visions of multitudes hurrying from among all nations to become -Minorites or Preachers. And more and more their numbers were recruited -from among the clergy. The lay members, important in the first years of -Francis's labours, were soon wellnigh submerged by the clericals; and the -educated or learned element became predominant in the Franciscan Order as -it was from the first in the Dominican. - -Consider for an instant the spread of the former. In 1216, Cardinal -Jacques of Vitry finds the Minorites in Lombardy, Tuscany, Apulia, and -Sicily. The next year five thousand are reported to have assembled at the -general meeting of the Order. Two years later Francis proceeds to carry -out his plan of world-conquest by apportioning the Christian countries, -and sending the brethren into France, Germany, Hungary, Spain, and -throughout Italy.[540] It was a period when in the midst of general -ignorance on the part of the clergy as well as laity, Universities -(_generalia studia_) were rising in Italy, France, and England. The popes, -Innocent III. (died 1216), Honorius III. (died 1221), and Gregory IX. -(died 1241), were seeking to raise the education and even the learning of -the Church. Their efforts found in the zeal of the Mendicants a ready -response which was not forthcoming from the secular clergy. The Mendicants -were zealous for the Faith, and loyal liegemen of the popes, who were -their sustainers and the guarantors of their freedom from local -ecclesiastical interference. What more fitting instruments could be found -to advance the cause of sacred learning at the Universities, and enlarge -it with the new knowledge which must either serve the Faith or be its -enemy. If all this was not evident in the first decades of the century, it -had become so by the middle of it, when the Franciscan Bonaventura and -the Dominicans Albertus and Thomas were the intellectual glories of the -time. And thus, while the ardour of the new Orders drew to their ranks the -learning and spiritual energy of the Church, the intellectual currents of -the time caught up those same Brotherhoods, which had so entrusted their -own salvation to the mission of saving other souls abroad in the world, -where those currents flowed. - -The Universities, above all _the_ University _par excellence_, were in the -hands of the secular clergy; and long and intricate is the story of their -jealous endeavours to exclude the Mendicants from Professors' chairs. The -Dominicans established themselves at Paris in 1217, the Franciscans two -years later. The former succeeded in obtaining one chair of theology at -the University in 1229, and a second in 1231; and about the same time the -Franciscans obtained their first chair, and filled it with Alexander of -Hales. When he died an old man, fifteen years later, they wrote upon his -tomb: - - "Gloria Doctorum, decus et flos Philosophorum, - Auctor scriptorum vir Alexander variorum," - -closing the epitaph with the words: "primus Doctor eorum," to wit, of the -Minorites. He was the author of the first _Summa theologiae_, in the sense -in which that term fits the work of Albert and Thomas. And there is no -harm in repeating that this _Summa_ of Alexander's was the first work of a -mediaeval schoolman in which use was made of the physics, metaphysics, and -natural history, of Aristotle.[541] He died in 1245, when the Franciscans -appear to have possessed two chairs at the University. One of them was -filled in 1248 by Bonaventura, who nine years later was taken from his -professorship, to become Minister-General of his Order. It was indeed only -in this year 1257 that the University itself had been brought by papal -injunctions formally to recognize as _magister_ this most eloquent of the -Franciscans, and the greatest of the Dominicans, Thomas Aquinas. The -latter's master, Albert, had been recognized as _magister_ by the -University in 1245. - -Before the intellectual achievements of these two men, the Franciscan fame -for learning paled. But that Order went on winning fame across the -Channel, which the Dominicans had crossed before them. In 1224 they came -to Oxford, and were received as guests by an establishment of Dominicans: -this was but nine years after the foundation of the preaching Order! -Perhaps the Franciscan glories overshone the Dominican at Oxford, where -Grosseteste belongs to them and Adam of Marsh and Roger Bacon. But -whichever Order led, there can be no doubt that together they included the -greater part of the intellectual productivity of the maturing thirteenth -century. Nevertheless, in spite of the vast work of the Orders in the -field of secular knowledge, it will be borne in mind that the advancement -of _sacra doctrina_, theology, the saving understanding of Scripture, was -the end and purpose of all study with Dominicans and Franciscans, as it -was universally with all orthodox mediaeval schoolmen; although for many -the nominal purpose seems a mere convention. Few men of the twelfth or -thirteenth century cared to dispute the principle that the _Carmina -poetarum_ and the _Dicta philosophorum_ "should be read not for their own -sake, but in order that we may learn holy Scripture to the best advantage: -I say they are to be offered as first-fruits, for we should not grow old -in them, but spring from their thresholds to the sacred page, for whose -sake we were studying them for a while."[542] - -Within the two Orders, especially the Franciscan, men differed sharply as -to the desirability of learning. So did their contemporaries among the -secular clergy, and their mediaeval and patristic predecessors as far back -as Clement of Alexandria and Tertullian. On this matter a large variance -of opinion might exist within the compass of orthodoxy; for Catholicism -did not forbid men to value secular knowledge, provided they did not -cleave to opinions contradicting Christian verity. This was heresy, and -indeed was the sum of what was called Averroism, the chief intellectual -heresy of the thirteenth century. It consisted in a sheer following of -Aristotle and his infidel commentator, wheresoever the opinions of the -Philosopher, so interpreted, might lead. They were not to be corrected in -the interest of Christian truth. A representative Averroist, and one so -important as to draw the fire of Aquinas, as well as the censures of the -Church, was Siger de Brabant. He followed Aristotle and his commentator in -maintaining: The universal oneness of the (human) intelligence, the _anima -intellectiva_, an opinion which involved the denial of an individual -immortality, with its rewards and punishments; the eternity of the visible -world,--uncreated and everlasting; a rational necessitarianism which -precluded freedom of human action and moral responsibility. - -It would be hard to find theses more fundamentally opposed to the -Christian Faith. Yet Siger may have deemed himself a Christian. With other -Averroists, he sought to preserve his religious standing by maintaining -that these opinions were true according to philosophy, but not according -to the Catholic Faith: "Dicunt enim ea esse vera secundum philosophiam, -sed non secundum fidem catholicam."[543] With what sincerity Siger held -this untenable position is hard to say. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII - -BONAVENTURA - - -The range and character of the ultimate intellectual interests of the -thirteenth century may be studied in the works of four men: St. -Bonaventura, Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas, and lastly, Roger Bacon. The -first and last were as different as might be; and both were Franciscans. -Albertus and Thomas represent the successive stages of one achievement, -the greatest in the course of mediaeval thought. In some respects, their -position is intermediate between Bonaventura and Bacon. Bonaventura -reflects many twelfth-century ways of thinking; Albert and Thomas embody -_par excellence_ the intellectual movement of the thirteenth century in -which they all lived; and Roger Bacon stands for much, the exceeding -import of which was not to be recognized until long after he was -forgotten. The four were contemporaries, and, with the possible exception -of Bacon, knew each other well. Thomas was Albert's pupil; Thomas and -Bonaventura taught at the same time in the Faculty of Theology at Paris, -and stood together in the academic conflict between their Orders and the -Seculars. Albertus and Bonaventura also must have known each other, -teaching at the same time in the theological faculty. As for Bacon, he was -likewise at Paris studying and teaching, when the others were there, and -may have known them.[544] Albert and Thomas came of princely stock, and -sacrificed their fortune in the world for theology's sake. Bacon's family -was well-to-do; Bonaventura was lowly born. - -John of Fidanza, who under the name of Bonaventura was to become -Minister-General of his Order, Cardinal, Saint, and _Doctor Seraphicus_, -saw the light in the Tuscan village of Bagnorea. That he was of Italian, -half Latin-speaking, stock is apparent from his own fluent Latin. Probably -in the year 1238, when seventeen years old, he joined the Franciscan -Order; and four years later was sent to Paris, where he studied under -Alexander of Hales. In 1248 he was licensed to lecture publicly, and -thenceforth devoted himself at Paris to teaching and writing, and -defending his Order against the Seculars, until 1257, when, just as the -University conferred on him the title of Magister, he was chosen -Minister-General of his Order, in the thirty-seventh year of his age. The -greater part of his writings were composed before the burdens of this -primacy drew him from his studies. He was still to become Prince of the -Church, for he was made Cardinal of Albano in 1273, the year before his -death. - -For all the Middle Ages the master in theology was Augustine. Either he -was studied directly in his own writings, or his views descended through -the more turbid channels of the works of men he influenced. Mediaeval -theology was overwhelmingly Augustinian until the middle of the thirteenth -century; and since theology was philosophy's queen, mediaeval philosophy -conformed to that which Augustine employed in his theology. This, if -traced backward to its source, should be called Platonism, or -Neo-Platonism if we turn our mind to the modes in which Augustine made use -of it. His Neo-Platonism was not unaffected by Peripatetic and later -systems of Greek philosophy; yet it was far more Platonic than Stoical or -Aristotelian. - -Those first teachers, who in the maturity of their powers became Brothers -Minorites, were Augustinians in theology, and consequently Platonists, in -so far as Platonism made part of Augustine's doctrines. Thus it was with -the first great teacher at the Minorites school in Oxford, Robert -Grosseteste, and with the first great Minorite teacher at Paris, Alexander -of Hales. Both of these men were promoters of the study of Aristotle; yet -neither became so imbued with Aristotelianism as to revise either his -theological system or the Platonic doctrines which seemed germane to it. -Moreover, in so far as we may imagine St. Francis to have had a theology, -we must feel that Augustine, with his hand on Plato's shoulder, would have -been more congenial to him than Aristotle. And so in fact it was to be -with his Order. Augustine's fervent piety, his imagination and religious -temperament, held the Franciscans fast. Surely he was very close to the -soul of that eloquent Franciscan teacher, who called Alexander of Hales -"master and father," sat at his feet, and never thought of himself as -delivering new teachings. It would have been strange indeed if Bonaventura -had broken from the influences which had formed his soul, this Bonaventura -whose most congenial precursor lived and wrote and followed Augustine far -back in the twelfth century, and bore the name of Hugo of St. Victor. -Bonaventura's writings did much to fix Augustinianism upon his Order; -rivalry with the Dominicans doubtless helped to make it fast; for the -latter were following another system under the dominance of their two -Titan leaders, who had themselves come to maturity with the new -Aristotelian influences, whereof they were _magna pars_. - -But just as Grosseteste and Alexander made use of what they knew of -Aristotle, so Bonaventura had no thought of misprizing him who was -becoming in western Europe "the master of those who know." In specific -points this wise Augustinian might prefer Aristotle to Plato. For example, -he chose to stand, with the former, upon the _terra firma_ of sense -perception, rather than keep ever on the wing in the upper region of ideal -concepts. - - "Although the _anima_, according to Augustine, is linked to eternal - principles (_legibus aeternis_), since somehow it does reach the light - of the higher reason, still it is unquestionable, as the Philosopher - says, that cognition originates in us by the way of the senses, of - memory, and of experience, out of which the universal is deduced, - which is the beginning of art and knowledge (_artis et scientiae_). - Hence, since Plato referred all certain cognition to the intelligible - or ideal world, he was rightly criticized by Aristotle. Not because he - spoke ill in saying that there are _ideas_ and eternal _rationes_; but - because, despising the world of sense, he wished to refer all certain - cognition to those Ideas. And thus, although Plato seems to make firm - the path of wisdom (_sapientiae_) which proceeds according to the - eternal _rationes_, he destroys the way of knowledge, which proceeds - according to the _rationes_ of created things (_rationes creatas_). So - it appears that, among philosophers, the word of wisdom (_sermo - sapientiae_) was given to Plato, and the word of knowledge - (_scientiae_) to Aristotle. For that one chiefly looked to the things - above, and this one considered things below.[545] But both the word of - wisdom and of knowledge, through the Holy Spirit, was given to - Augustine, as the pre-eminent declarer of the entire Scripture."[546] - -So there is Aristotelian ballast in Bonaventura's Platonic-Augustinian -theology. His chief divergence from Albert and Thomas (who, of course, -likewise held Augustine in honour, and drew on Plato when they chose) is -to be found in his temperamental attitude, toward life, toward God, or -toward theology and learning. His Augustinian soul held to the -pre-eminence of the _good_ above the _true_, and tended to shape the -second to the first. So he maintained the primacy of _willing_ over -knowing. Man attains God through goodness of will and through love. The -way of knowledge is less prominent with Bonaventura than with Aquinas. -Surely the latter, and his master Albert, saw the main sanction of secular -knowledge in its ministry to _sacra doctrina_; but their hearts may seem -to tarry with the handmaid. Bonaventura's position is the same; but his -heart never tarries with the handmaid; for with him heart and mind are -ever constant to the queen, Theology. Yet he recognizes the queen's need -of the handmaid. Holy Writ is not for babes; the fulness of knowledge is -needed for its understanding: "Non potest intelligi sacra Scriptura sine -aliarum scientiarum peritia."[547] And without philosophy many matters of -the Faith cannot be intelligently discussed. There is no knowledge which -may not be sanctified to the purpose of understanding Scripture; only let -this purpose really guide the mind's pursuits. - -Bonaventura wrote a short treatise to emphasize these universally admitted -principles, and to show how every form of human knowledge conformed to the -supreme illumination afforded by Scripture, and might be reduced to the -terms and methods of Theology, which is Scripture rightly understood. He -named the tract _De reductione artium ad theologiam_[548] (The leading -back of the Arts to Theology). - - "'Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the - Father of lights,' says James. This indicates the source of all - illumination, and the streaming of all enlightenment from that fontal - light. While every illumination is inner knowledge (_omnis illuminatio - cognitio interna sit_) we may distinguish the external light, (_lumen - exterius_), to wit, the light of mechanical art; the lower light, to - wit, the light of sense perception; the interior light, to wit, the - light of philosophical cognition; the superior light, to wit, the - light of grace and Holy Scripture. The first illuminates as to the - arts and crafts; the second as to natural form; the third as to - intellectual truth; the fourth as to saving truth." - -He enumerates the mechanical arts, drawing from Hugo of St. Victor; then -he follows with Augustine's explanation of the second _lumen_, as that -which discerns corporeal things. He next speaks of the third _lumen_ which -lightens us to the investigation of truths intelligible, scrutinizing the -truth of words (Logic), or the truth of things (Physics), or the truth of -morals (Ethics). The fourth _lumen_, of Holy Scripture, comes not by -seeking, but descends through inspiration from the Father of lights. It -includes the literal, the spiritual, moral and anagogic signification of -Scripture, teaching the eternal generation and incarnation of Christ, the -way to live, and the union of God and the soul. The first of these -branches pertains to faith, the second to morals, and the third to the aim -and end of both. - -"Let us see," continues Bonaventura, "how the other illuminations have to -be reduced to the light of Holy Scripture. And first as to the -illumination from sense cognition, as to which we consider its means, its -exercise, and its delight (_oblectamentum_)." Its means is the Word -eternally generated, and incarnated in time; its exercise is in the sense -perception of an ordered way of living, following the suitable and -avoiding the nocuous; and as for its object of delight, as every sense -pursues that which delights it, so the sense of our heart should seek the -beautiful, harmonious, and sweet-smelling. In this way divine wisdom -dwells hidden in sense cognition. - -Next, as to the illumination of mechanical art, which is concerned with -the production of the works of craft. Herein likewise may be observed -analogies with the light from Holy Scripture, which reveals the Word, the -order of living, and the union of God and the soul. No creature proceeds -from the great Artificer, save through the Word; and the human artificer -works to produce a beautiful, useful, and enduring work; which corresponds -to the Scriptural order of living. Each human artificer makes his work -that it may bring him praise or use or delight; as God made the rational -soul, to praise and serve and take delight in Him, through love. - -By similar methods of reasoning Bonaventura next "reduces," or leads back, -Logic, and Natural and Moral Philosophy to the ways and purposes of -Theology, and shows how "the multiform wisdom of God, which is set forth -lucidly by Scripture, lies hidden in every cognition, and in every nature. -It is also evident that all kinds of knowledge minister to Theology; and -that Theology takes illustrations, and uses phrases, pertaining to every -kind of knowledge (_cognitionis_). It is also plain how ample is the -illuminating path, and how in every thing that is sensed or perceived, God -himself lies concealed."[549] - -Ways of reasoning change, while conclusions sometimes endure. -Bonaventura's reasoning in the above treatise is for us abstruse and -fanciful; yet many will agree with the conclusion, that all kinds of -knowledge may minister to our thought of God, and of man's relationship to -Him. And with Bonaventura, all his knowledge, his study of secular -philosophy, his logic and powers of presentation, had theology unfailingly -in view, and ministered to the satisfaction, the actualization (to use -our old word) of his religious nature. He belongs among those -intellectually gifted men--Augustine, Anselm, Hugo of St. Victor--whose -mental and emotional powers draw always to God, and minister to the -conception of the soul's union with the living spring of its being. The -life, the labours of Bonaventura were as the title of the little book we -have just been worrying with, a _reductio artium ad theologiam_, a -constant adapting of all knowledge and ways of meditation, to the sense of -God and the soul's inclusion in the love divine. No one should expect to -find among his compositions any independent treatment of secular knowledge -for its own sake. Rather throughout his writings the reasonings of -philosophy are found always ministering to the sovereign theme. - -The most elaborate of Bonaventura's doctrinal works was his Commentary -upon the Lombard's _Sentences_. In form and substance it was a _Summa -theologiae_.[550] He also made a brief and salutary theological compend, -which he called the _Breviloquium_.[551] The note of devotional piety is -struck by the opening sentence, taken from the Epistle to the Ephesians, -and is held throughout the work: - - "'I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from whom - the whole fatherhood in heaven and earth is named, that He would grant - you according to the riches of His glory to be strengthened by His - Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts through - faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to - comprehend with all saints, what is the breadth and length and height - and depth; and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, - that ye might be filled in all the fulness of God.' The great doctor - of the Gentiles discloses in these words the source, progress, and - state (_ortus_, _progressus_, _status_) of Holy Scripture, which is - called Theology; indicating that the _source_ is to be thought upon - according to the grace (_influentiam_) of the most blessed Trinity; - the _progress_ with reference to the needs of human capacity; and the - _state_ or fruit with respect to the superabundance of a superplenary - felicity. - - "For the _Source_ lies not in human investigation, but in divine - revelation, which flows from the Father of lights, from whom all - fatherhood in heaven and earth is named, from whom, through His Son - Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit flows in us; and through the Holy Spirit - bestowing, as He wills, gifts on each, faith is given, and through - faith Christ dwells in our hearts. This is the knowledge of Jesus - Christ, from which, as from a source, comes the certitude and - understanding of the whole Scripture. Wherefore it is impossible that - any one should advance in its knowledge, unless he first has Christ - infused in him.... - - "The _Progress_ of Holy Scripture is not bound to the laws of - reasonings and definitions, like the other sciences; but, conformably - to supernatural light, proceeds to give to man the wayfarer (_homini - viatori_) a knowledge of things sufficing for his salvation, by plain - words in part, and in part mystically: it presents the contents of the - universe as in a _Summa_, in which is observed the _breadth_; it - describes the descent (from above) in which is considered the - _length_; it describes the goodness of the saved, in which is - considered the _height_; it describes the misery of the damned, in - which consists the _depth_ not only of the universe itself but of the - divine judgment.... - - "The _State_ or fruit of Holy Scripture is the plentitude of eternal - felicity. For the Book containing words of eternal life was written - not only that we might believe, but that we might have eternal life, - in which we shall see, we shall love, and all our desires shall be - filled, whereupon we shall know the love which passeth knowledge, and - be filled in all the fulness of God.... - - "As to the _progress_ of Scripture, first is to be considered the - _breadth_, which consists in the multitude of parts.... Rightly is - Holy Scripture divided into the Old and New Testament, and not in - _theorica_ and _practica_, like philosophy; because since Scripture is - founded on the knowledge of faith, which is a virtue and the basis of - morals, it is not possible to separate in Scripture the knowledge of - things, or of what is to be believed, from the knowledge of morals. It - is otherwise with philosophy, which handles not only the truth of - morals, but the true, speculatively considered. Then as Holy Scripture - is knowledge (_notitia_) moving to good and recalling from evil, - through fear and love, so it is divided into two Testaments, whose - difference, briefly, is fear and love.... - - "Holy Scripture has also _length_, which consists in the description - of times and ages from the beginning to the day of Judgment.... The - progress of the whole world is described by Scripture, as in a - beautiful poem, wherein one may follow the descent of time, and - contemplate the variety, manifoldness, equity, order, righteousness, - and beauty of the multitude of divine judgments proceeding from the - wisdom of God ruling the world: and as with a poem, so with this - ordering of the world, one cannot see its beauty save by considering - the whole.... - - "No less has Sacred Scripture _height_ (_sublimitatem_), consisting - in description of the ranged hierarchies, the ecclesiastical, - angelic, and divine.... Even as things have _being_ in matter or - nature, they have also being in the _anima_ through its acquired - knowledge; they have also _being_ in the _anima_ through grace, also - through glory; and they have also being in the way of the eternal--in - _arte aeterna_. Philosophy treats of things as they are in nature, or - in the _anima_ according to the knowledge which is naturally implanted - or acquired. But theology as a science (_scientia_) founded upon faith - and revealed by the Holy Spirit, treats of those matters which belong - to grace and glory and to the eternal wisdom. Whence placing - philosophic cognition beneath itself, and drawing from nature (_de - naturis rerum_) as much as it may need to make a mirror yielding a - reflection of things divine, it constructs a ladder which presses the - earth at the base, and touches heaven at the top: and all this through - that one hierarch Jesus Christ, who through his assumption of human - nature, is hierarch not in the ecclesiastical hierarchy alone, but - also in the angelic; and is the medial person in the divine hierarchy - of the most blessed Trinity."[552] - -The _depth_ (_profunditas_) of Scripture consists in its manifold mystic -meanings. It reveals these meanings of the creature world for the -edification of man journeying to his fatherland. Scripture throughout its -_breadth_, _length_, _height_, and _depth_ uses narrative, threat, -exhortation, and promise all for one end. "For this _doctrina_ exists in -order that we may become good and be saved, which comes not through naked -consideration, but rather through inclination of the will.... Here -examples have more effect than arguments, promises are more moving than -ratiocinations, and devotion is better than definition." Hence Scripture -does not follow the method and divisions of other sciences, but uses its -own diverse means for its saving end. The Prologue closes with rules of -Scriptural interpretation.[553] - -In our plan of following what is of human interest in mediaeval philosophy -or theology, prologues and introductions are sometimes of more importance -than the works which they preface; for they disclose the writer's intent -and purpose, and the endeavour within him, which may be more intimately -himself, than his performance. So more space has been given to -Bonaventura's Prologue than the body of the treatise will require. The -order of topics is that of the Lombard's _Sentences_ or Aquinas's _Summa_. -Seven successive _partes_ consider the Trinity, the creation, the -corruption from sin, the Incarnation, the grace of the Holy Spirit, the -sacramental medicine, and the Last Judgment. Each _pars_ is divided into -chapters setting forth some special topic. Bonaventura's method, pursued -in every chapter, is to state first the scriptural or dogmatic -propositions, and then give their reason, which he introduces with such -words as: _Ratio autem ad praedictorum intelligentiam haec est_. The work -is a complete systematic compend of Christian theology; its conciseness -and lucidity of statement are admirable. For an example of its method and -quality, the first chapter of the sixth part may be given, upon the origin -of Sacraments. - - "Having treated of the Trinity of God, of the creation of the world, - the corruption of sin, the incarnation of the Word, and the grace of - the Holy Spirit, it is time to treat of the sacramental medicine, - regarding which there are seven matters to consider: the origin of the - sacraments, their variation, distinction, appointment, dispensation, - repetition, and the integrity of each. - - "Concerning[554] the origin of the Sacraments this is to be held, that - sacraments are sensible signs divinely appointed as medicaments, in - which under cover of things sensible, divine virtue secretly operates; - also that from likeness they represent, from appointment they signify, - from sanctification they confer, some spiritual grace, through which - the soul is healed from the infirmities of vice; and for this as their - final end they are ordained; yet they avail for humility, instruction, - and exercise as for a subsidiary end. - - "The reason and explanation of the aforesaid is this: The reparative - principle (_principium_), is Christ crucified, to wit, the Word - incarnate, that directs all things most compassionately because - divine, and most compassionately heals because divinely incarnate. It - must repair, heal, and save the sick human race, in a way suited to - the sick one, the sickness and the occasion of it, and the cure of the - sickness. The physician is the incarnate Word, to wit, God invisible - in a visible nature. The sick man is not simply spirit, nor simply - flesh, but spirit in mortal flesh. The disease is original sin, which - through ignorance infects the mind, and through concupiscence - infects the flesh. While the origin of this fault primarily lay in - reason's consent, yet its occasion came from the senses of the body. - Consequently, in order that the medicine should correspond to these - conditions, it should be not simply spiritual, but should have - somewhat of sensible signs; for as things sensible were the occasion - of the soul's falling, they should be the occasion of its rising - again. Yet since visible signs of themselves have no efficiency - ordained for grace, although representative of its nature, it was - necessary that they should by the author of grace be appointed to - signify and should be blessed in order to sanctify; so that there - should be a representation from natural likeness, a signification from - appointment, and a sanctification and preparedness for grace from the - added benediction, through which our soul may be cured and made whole. - - "Again, since curative grace is not given to the puffed up, the - unbelieving, and disdainful, so these sensible signs divinely given, - ought to be such as not only would sanctify and confer grace, and - heal, but also would instruct by their signification, humble by their - acceptance, and exercise through their diversity; that thus through - exercise despondency (_acedia_) should be shut out from the - desiderative [nature], through instruction ignorance be shut out from - the rational [nature], through humiliation pride be shut out from the - irascible [nature], and the whole soul become _curable_ by the grace - of the Holy Spirit, which remakes us according to these three - capacities (_potentias_)[555] into the image of the Trinity and - Christ. Finally, whereas the grace of the Holy Spirit is received - through these sensible signs divinely appointed, it is found in them - as an accident. Hence sacraments of this kind are called the vessels - and cause of grace: not that grace is of their substance or produced - by them as by a cause; for its place is in the soul, and it is infused - by God alone; but because it is ordained by divine decree, that in - them and through them we shall draw the grace of cure from the supreme - physician, Christ; although God has not fettered His grace to the - sacraments.[556] - - "From the premises, therefore, appears not only what may be the origin - of the sacraments, but also the use and fruit. For their origin is - Christ the Lord; their use is the act which exercises, teaches, and - humbles; their fruit is the cure and salvation of men. It is also - evident that the efficient cause of the sacraments is the divine - appointment; their material cause is the figurement of the sensible - sign; their formal cause the sanctification by grace; their final - cause the medicinal healing of men. And because they are named from - their form and end they are called sacraments, as it were - _medicamenta sanctificantia_. Through them the soul is led back from - the filth of vice to perfect sanctification. And so, although - corporeal and sensible, they are medicinal, and to be venerated as - holy because they signify holy mysteries, and make ready for the holy - gifts (_charismata_) given by most holy God; and they are divinely - consecrated by holy institution and benediction for the holiest - worship of God appointed in holy church, so that rightly they should - be called sacraments." - -The _Breviloquium_ was Bonaventura's rational compendium of Christian -theology. It offered in brief compass as complete a system as the bulkiest -_Summa_ could carry out to doctrinal elaboration. Quite different in -method and intent was his equally famous _Itinerarium mentis in -Deum_,[557] the praise of which, according to the great Chancellor Gerson, -could not fitly be uttered by mortal mouth. We have seen how in the -_Reductio artium ad theologiam_ Bonaventura conformed all modes of -perception and knowledge to the uses and modes of theology; the final end -of which is man's salvation, consisting in the union of the soul with God, -through every form of enlightenment and all the power of love. The -_Breviloquium_ has given the sum of Christian doctrine, an intelligent and -heart-felt understanding of which leads to salvation. And now the -_Itinerarium_--well, it is best to let Bonaventura tell how he came to -compose it, and of its purpose and character. - - "Since, after the example of our most blessed father Francis, I pant - in spirit for the peace which he preached in the manner of our Lord - Jesus Christ, I a sinner who am the seventh, all unworthy, - Minister-General of the Brethren,--it happened that by God's will in - the thirty-third year after our blessed father's death, I turned aside - to the mountain of Alverna, as to a quiet place, seeking the spirit's - peace. While I lingered there my mind dwelt on the ascensions of the - spirit, and, among others, on the miracle which in that very spot came - to blessed Francis, when he saw the winged Seraph in the likeness of - the Crucified. And it seemed to me his vision represented the - suspension of our father in contemplation, and the way by which he - came to it. For by those six wings may be understood the suspensions - of the six illuminations, by which the soul, as by steps and journeys, - through ecstatic outpourings of Christian wisdom, is prepared to pass - beyond to peace. For the way lies only through love of the - Crucified, which so transformed Paul carried to the third heaven, that - he could say: 'I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet - not I, but Christ liveth in me.' So the image of the six seraph's - wings represents the six rungs of illumination, which begin with the - creatures and lead on to God, to whom no one can come save through the - Crucified.... - - "For one is not prepared for the divine contemplations, which lead to - the rapt visions of the mind, unless he be with Daniel, a man of - desires.[558] Desires are stirred within us by the cry of prayer and - the bright light of speculation. I shall invite the reader first to - the sighings of prayer through Christ crucified, lest perchance he - believe that study might suffice without unction, or diligence without - piety, knowledge without charity, zeal without divine grace, or the - mirror (_speculum_) without the wisdom divinely inspired. Then to - those humble and devout ones, to whom grace first has come, to those - lovers of the divine wisdom, who burn with desire of it, and are - willing to be still, for the magnifying of God, I shall propose - pertinent speculations, showing how little or nothing is it to turn - the mirror outward unless the mirror of our mind be rubbed and - polished." - -Thus Bonaventura writes his prologue to this devotional tract, which will -also hold "pertinent speculations." Remarkable is the intellectuality and -compacted thought which he fuses in emotional expression. He will write -seven chapters, on the seven steps, or degrees, in the ascent to God, -which is the mind's true _itinerarium_. Since we cannot by ourselves lift -ourselves above ourselves, prayer is the very mother and source of our -upward struggle. Prayer opens our eyes to the steps in the ascent. Placed -in the universe of things, we find in it the corporeal and temporal -footprint (_vestigium_) leading into the way of God. Then we enter our -mind, which is the everlasting and spiritual image of God; and this is to -enter the truth of God. Whereupon we should rise above us to the eternal -most spiritual first cause; and this is to rejoice in the knowledge of -God's majesty. This is the threefold illumination, by which we recognise -the triple existence of things, in matter, in the intelligence, and in the -divine way--_in arte divina_. And likewise our mind has three outlooks, -one upon the corporeal world without, which is called sense, another into -and within itself, which is called _spiritus_, and a third above itself, -which is called _mens_. By means of all three, man should set himself to -rising toward God, and love Him with the whole mind, and heart, and soul. - -Then Bonaventura makes further analysis of his triple illumination into - - "six degrees or powers of the soul, to wit, sense, imagination, - reason, intellect, intelligence, and _apex mentis seu synteresis - scintilla_. These degrees are planted within us by nature, deformed - through fault, reformed through grace, purged through righteousness, - exercised through knowledge, perfected through wisdom.... Whoever - wishes to ascend to God should shun the sins which deform nature, and - stretch forth his natural powers, in prayer, toward reforming grace, - in mode of life, toward purifying righteousness, in meditation, toward - illuminating knowledge, in contemplation toward the wisdom which makes - perfect. For as no one reaches wisdom except through grace, - righteousness, and knowledge, so no one reaches contemplation, except - through meditation, a holy life, and devout prayer." - -Chapter one closes with little that is novel; for we seem to be retracing -the thoughts of Hugo of St. Victor. The second chapter is on the -"Contemplation of God in His Footprints in the Sensible World." This is -the next grade of speculation, because we shall now contemplate God not -only through His footprints, but in them also, so far as He is in them -through essence, power, or presence. The sensible world, the macrocosmus, -enters the microcosmus, which is the _anima_, through the gates of the -five senses. The author sketches the processes of sense-perception, -through which outer facts are apprehended according to their species, and -delighted in if pleasing, and then adjudged according to the _ratio_ of -their delightfulness, to wit, their beauty, sweetness, salubrity, and -proportion. Such are the footprints in which we may contemplate our God. -All things knowable possess the quality of generating their species in our -minds, through the medium of our perceptions; and thus we are led to -contemplate the eternal generation of the Word--image and Son--from the -Father. Likewise sweetness and beauty point on to their fontal source. And -from speculation on the local, the temporal, and mutable, our reason -carries us to the thought of the immutable, the uncircumscribed and -eternal. Then from the beauty and delightfulness of things, we pass to -the thought of number and proportion, and judge of their irrefragable -laws, wherein are God's wisdom and power. - - "The creatures of this sensible world signify the invisible things of - God; in part because God is the source and exemplar and end of every - creature; in part through their proper likeness; in part from their - prophetic prefiguring; in part from angelic operations; and in part - through superadded ordainment. For every creature by nature is an - effigy of the eternal wisdom; especially whatever creature in - Scripture is taken by the spirit of prophecy as a type of the - spiritual; but more especially those creatures in the likeness of - which God willed to appear by an angelic minister; and most especially - that creature which he chose to mark as a sacrament." - -From these first grades of speculation, which contemplate the footprints -of God in the world, we are led to contemplate the divine image in the -natural powers of our minds. We find the image of the most blessed Trinity -in our memory, our rational intelligence, and our will; the joint action -of which leads on to the desire of the _summum bonum_. Next we contemplate -the divine image in our minds remade by the gifts of grace upon which we -must enter by the door of the faith, hope, and love of the Mediator of God -and men, Jesus Christ. As philosophy helped us to see the image of God in -the natural qualities of our mind, so Scripture now is needed to bring us -to these three theological virtues (faith, hope, and love), which enable -the mind of fallen man to be repaired and made anew through grace. - -From this fourth grade, in which God is still contemplated in his image, -we rise to consider God as pure being, wherein there is neither privation, -nor bound, nor particularity; and next in his goodness, the highest -communicability (_summam communicabilitatem_) of which may be -contemplated, but not comprehended, in the mystery of the most blessed -Trinity. "In whom [the persons of the Trinity] it is necessary because of -the _summa bonitas_ that there should be the _summa communicabilitas_, and -because of the latter, the _summa consubstantialitas_, and because of this -the _summa configurabilitas_, and from these the _summa coaequalitas_, and -through this the _summa coaeternitas_, and from all the preceding the -_summa cointimitas_, by which each is in the other, and one works with the -other through every conceivable indivisibility (_indivisionem_) of the -substance, virtue, and operation of the same most blessed Trinity...." -"And when thou contemplatest this," adds Bonaventura, "do not think to -comprehend the incomprehensible." - -From age to age the religious soul finds traces of its God in nature and -in its inmost self. Its ways of finding change, varying with the -prevailing currents of knowledge; yet still it ever finds these -_vestigia_, which represent the widest deductions of its reasoning, the -ultimate resultants of its thought, and its own brooding peace. Therefore -may we not follow sympathetically the _Itinerarium_ of Bonaventura's mind -as it traces the footprints of its God? Thus far the way has advanced by -reason, uplifted by grace, and yet still reason. This reason has -comprehended what it might comprehend of the traces and evidences of God -in the visible creation and the soul of man; it has sought to apprehend -the being of God, but has humbly recognized its inability to penetrate the -marvels of his goodness in the mystery of the most blessed Trinity. There -it stops at the sixth grade of contemplation; yet not baffled, or rendered -vain, for it has performed its function and brought the soul on to where -she may fling forth from reason's steeps, and find herself again, buoyant -and blissful, in a medium of super-rational contemplation. This makes the -last chapter of the mind's _Itinerarium_; it is the _apex mentis_, the -summit of all contemplations in which the mind has rest. Henceforth - - "Christ is the way and door, the ladder and the vehicle, as the - propitiation placed on the Ark of God, and the sacrament hidden from - the world. He who looks on this propitiation, with his look full fixed - on him who hangs upon the cross, through faith, hope, and charity, and - all devotion, he makes his Passover, and through the rod of the cross - shall pass through the Red Sea, out of Egypt entering the desert, and - there taste the hidden manna, and rest with Christ in the tomb, dead - to all without; and shall realize, though as one still on the way, the - word of Christ to the believing thief: 'To-day thou shalt be with me - in Paradise.' Which was also revealed to the blessed Francis when in - ecstasy of contemplation on the high mountain, the Seraph with six - wings, nailed on a cross, appeared to him. There, as we have heard - from his companion, he passed into God through ecstasy of - contemplation, and was set as an exemplar of perfect contemplation, - whereby God should invite all truly spiritual men to this transit and - ecstasy, by example rather than by word. In this passing over, if it - be perfect, all the ways of reason are relinquished, and the _apex - affectus_ is transferred and transformed into God. This is the mystic - secret known by no one who does not receive it, and received by none - who does not desire it, and desired only by him whose heart's core is - aflame from the fire of the Holy Spirit, whom Christ sent on earth.... - Since then nature avails nothing here, and diligence but little, we - should give ourselves less to investigation and more to unction; - little should be given to speech, and most to inner gladness; little - to the written word, and all to God's gift the Holy Spirit; little or - nothing is to be ascribed to the creature, and all to the creative - essence, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." - -Here Bonaventura loses himself in an untranslatable extract from -Eriugena's version of the _Areopagite_, and then proceeds: - - "If thou askest how may these things be, interrogate grace and not - doctrine, desire and not knowledge, the groaning of prayer rather than - study, the Spouse rather than the teacher, God and not man, mist - rather than clarity, not light but fire all aflame and bearing on to - God by devotion and glowing affection. Which fire is God, and the man - Christ kindles it in the fervour of his passion, as only he perceives - who says: 'My soul chooseth strangling and my bones, death.' He who - loves this death shall see God. Then let us die and pass into - darkness, and silence our solicitudes, our desires, and phantasies; - let us pass over with Christ crucified from this world to the Father; - that the Father shown us, we may say with Philip: 'it sufficeth us.' - Let us hear with Paul: 'My grace is sufficient for thee.' Let us exult - with David, saying: 'Defecit caro mea et cor meum, Deus cordis mei et - pars mea Deus in aeternum'."[559] - -It is best to leave the saint and doctor here, and not follow in other -treatises the current of his yearning thought till it divides in -streamlets which press on their tortuous ways through allegory and the -adumbration of what the mind disclaims the power to express directly. -Those more elaborate treatises of his, which are called mystic, are -difficult for us to read. As with Hugo of St. Victor, from whom he drew so -largely, Bonaventura's expression of his religious yearnings may -interest and move us; but one needs perhaps the cloister's quiet to follow -on through the allegorical elaboration of this pietism. Bonaventura's -_Soliloquium_ might weary us after the _Itinerarium_, and we should read -his _De septem itineribus aeternitatis_ with no more pleasure than Hugo's -_Mystic Ark of Noah_. It is enough to witness the spiritual attitude of -these men without tracking them through the "selva oscura" to their lairs -of meditation. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX - -ALBERTUS MAGNUS - - -Albert the Great was prodigious in the mass of his accomplishment. Therein -lay his importance for the age he lived in; therein lies his interest for -us. For him, substantial philosophy, as distinguished from the -instrumental rôle of logic, had three parts, set by nature, rather than -devised by man; they are physics, mathematics, and metaphysics. "It is our -intention," says Albert at the beginning of his exposition of Aristotle's -_Physics_, "to make all the said parts intelligible to the Latins." _And -he did._ Perhaps the world has had no greater purveyor of a knowledge not -his own. He is comparable with Boëthius, who gave the Latin world the -Aristotelian _Organon_, a gift but half availed of for many centuries. -Albert gave his Latin world the rest of Aristotle, the _philosophia -realis_. His world was as ready to receive this great donation, as the -time of Boëthius was unready to profit by any intellectual gift demanding -mental energies for its assimilation. Boëthius stood alone in his -undertaking; if his hand failed there was none to take up his task. Fate -stayed his hand; and the purpose that was his, to render the whole of -Plato and Aristotle intelligible to the Latin world, perished with him, -the Latin world being by no means eager for the whole of Aristotle and -Plato, and unfit to receive it had it been proffered. But Albert's time -was eager; it was importunate for the very enlargement of knowledge which -Albert, more than any other man, was bringing it. An age obtains what it -demands. Albert had fellow-labourers, some preceding, some assisting, and -others following him, to perfect the knowledge in which he worked, and -build it into the scholastic Christian scheme. But in this labour of -purveyorship he overtopped the rest, the giant of them all. - -He was born Count of Bollstadt, in Suabia, probably in the year 1193. -Whether his youth was passed in the profession of arms, or in study, is -not quite clear. But while still young he began his years of studious -travel, and at Padua in 1223 he joined the Dominican Order. He became a -miracle of learning, reputed also as one who could explain the phenomena -of nature. From 1228 to 1245 he taught in German cities, chiefly at -Cologne. Then the scene changed to Paris, where he lectured and won fame -from 1245 to 1248. With this period begins the publication of his -philosophical encyclopaedia. Perhaps it was first completed in 1256. But -Albert kept supplementing and revising it until his death. In 1248 he was -remanded to Cologne to establish a school there. His life continued -devoted to study and teaching, yet with interruptions. For he filled the -office of Provincial of his Order for Germany from 1254 to 1257, and was -compelled to be Bishop of Regensburg from 1260 to 1262. Then he insisted -on resigning, and retired to a cloister at Cologne. Naturally he was -engaged in a number of learned controversies, and was burdened with -numerous ecclesiastical affairs. In 1277 for the last time he set his face -toward Paris, to defend the doctrines and memory of his great pupil, who -had died three years before. His own illustrious life closed at Cologne on -the fifteenth of November, 1280. Albert was a man of piety, conforming -strictly to the rules of his Order. It is said that he refused to own even -the manuscripts which he indited; and as Dominican Provincial of Germany -he walked barefoot on his journeys through the vast territory set under -his supervision. Tradition has him exceeding small of stature. - -Albert's labours finally put within reach of his contemporaries the sum of -philosophy and science contained in the works of Aristotle, and his -ancient, as well as Arabian, commentators. The undertaking was grandly -conceived; it was carried out with tireless energy and massive learning. -Let us observe the principles which informed the mind of this mighty -Teuton scholar. He transcribed approvingly the opinion expressed by -Aristotle at the opening of the _Metaphysics_, that the love of knowledge -is natural to man; and he recognized the pleasure arising from knowledge -of the sensible world, apart from considerations of utility.[560] He took -this thought from Aristotle; but the proof that he made it his own with -power lay in those fifty years of intellectual toil which produced the -greatest of all mediaeval storehouses of knowledge. - -In his reliance on his sources, Albert is mediaeval; his tendency is to -accept the opinion which he is reproducing, especially when it is the -opinion of Aristotle. Yet he protested against regarding even him as -infallible. "He who believes that Aristotle was God, ought to believe that -he never erred. If one regards him as a man, then surely he may err as -well as we."[561] Albert was no Averroist to adhere to all the views of -the Philosopher; he pointedly differed from him where orthodoxy demanded -it, maintaining, for instance, the creation of the world in time, contrary -to the opinion of the Peripatetics. Albert, and with him Aquinas, had not -accepted merely the task of expounding Aristotle, but also that of -correcting him where Truth (with a large Christian capital) required it. -Albert held that Aristotle might err, and that he did not know everything. -The development of science was not closed by his death: "Dicendum quod -scientiae demonstrativae non omnes factae sunt, sed plures restant adhuc -inveniendae."[562] This is not Roger Bacon speaking, but Albertus; and -still more might one think to hear the voice of the recalcitrant -Franciscan in the words: "Oportet experimentum non in uno modo, sed -secundum omnes circumstantias probare."[563] Yet these words too are -Albert's, and he is speaking of the observation of nature's phenomena; -regarding which one shall not simply transcribe the ancient statement; but -observe with his own eyes and mind. - -This was in the spirit of Aristotle; Albert recognizes and approves. But -did he make the experimental principle his own with power, as he did the -thought that the desire to know is inborn? This is a fundamental question -as to Albert. No one denies his learning, his enormous book-diligence. But -was he also an observer of natural phenomena? One who sought to test from -his own observation the statements of the books he read? It is best here -to avoid either a categorical affirmation or denial. The standard by which -one shapes one's answer is important. Are we to compare Albert with a St. -Bernard, whose meditations shut his eyes to mountains, lakes, and woods? -Or are we to apply the standards of a natural science which looks always -to the tested results of observation? There is sufficient evidence in -Albert's writings to show that he kept his eyes open, and took notice of -interesting phenomena, seen, for instance, on his journeys. But, on the -other hand, it is absurd to imagine that he dreamed of testing the written -matter which he paraphrased, or of materially adding to it, by systematic -observation of nature. Accounts of his observations do not always raise -our opinion of his science. He transcribes the description of certain -worms, and says that they may come from horse-hairs, for he has seen -horse-hairs, in still water, turning into worms.[564] The trouble was that -Albert had no general understanding of the processes of nature. -Consequently, in his _De animalibus_ for instance, he gives the fabulous -as readily as the more reasonable. Nevertheless let no one think that -natural knowledge did not really interest and delight him. His study of -plants has led the chief historian of botany to assert that Albert was the -first real botanist, after the ancient Theophrastus, inasmuch as he -studied for the sake of learning the nature of plants, irrespective of -their medical or agricultural uses.[565] - -The writings of Albertus Magnus represent, perhaps more fully than those -of any other man, the round of knowledge and intellectual interest -attracting the attention of western Europe in the thirteenth century. At -first glance they seem to separate into those which in form and substance -are paraphrases of Aristotelian treatises, or borrowed expositions of -Aristotelian topics; and those which are more independent compositions. -Yet the latter, like the _Summa de creaturis_, for example, will be found -to consist largely of borrowed material; the matter is rearranged, and -presented in some new connection, or with a purpose other than that of its -source. - -In his Aristotelian paraphrases, which were thickly sown with digressive -expositions, Albert's method, as he states at the beginning of the -_Physica_, is "to follow the order and opinions of Aristotle, and to give -in addition whatever is needed in the way of explanation and support; yet -without reproducing Aristotle's text (_tamen quod textus eius nulla fiat -mentio_). And we shall also compose _digressiones_ to expound whatever is -obscure." The titles of the chapters will indicate whether their substance -is from Aristotle. Thus instead of giving the Aristotelian text, with an -attached commentary, Albert combines paraphrase and supplementary -exposition. Evidently the former method would have presented Aristotle's -meaning more surely, and would have thus subserved a closer scholarship. -But for this the Aristotelian commentaries of Aquinas must be awaited. - -The compass of Albert's achievement as a purveyor of ancient knowledge may -be seen from a cursory survey of his writings; which will likewise afford -an idea of the quality of his work, and how much there was of Albert in -it.[566] To begin with, he sets forth with voluminous exposition the -entire Aristotelian _Organon_. The preliminary questions as to the nature -of logic were treated in the _De praedicabilibus_,[567] which expanded the -substance of Porphyry's _Isagoge_. In this treatise Albert expounds his -conclusions as to universals, the universal being that which is in one yet -is fit (_aptum_) to be in many, and is predicable of many. "Et hoc modo -prout ratio est praedicabilitatis, ad logicam pertinet de universali -tractare; quamvis secundum quod est natura quaedam et differentia entis, -tractare de ipso pertineat ad metaphysicam." That is to say, It pertains -to logic to treat of the universal in respect to its predicability; but in -so far as the question relates to the nature and differences of essential -being, it pertains to metaphysics. This sentence is an example of Albert's -awkward Latin; but it shows how firmly he distinguishes between the -logical and the metaphysical material. His treatment of logic is -exhaustive, rather than acutely discriminating. He works constantly with -the material of others, and the result is more inclusive than -organic.[568] In his ponderous treatment of logical themes, no possible -consideration is omitted. - -The _De praedicabilibus_ is followed by the _De praedicamentis_, Albert's -treatise on the _Categories_. Next comes his _Liber de sex principiis_, -which is a paraphrasing exposition of the work of Gilbert de la Porrée. -Then comes his _Perihermenias_, which keeps the Greek title of the _De -interpretatione_. These writings are succeeded by elaborate expositions of -the more advanced logical treatises of Aristotle, all of them, of course, -_Analytics_ (_Prior_ and _Posterior_), _Topics_, and _Elenchi_. The total -production is detailed, exhaustive, awful; it is _ingens_ truly, only not -quite _informis_; and Teutonically painstaking and conscientious. - -Thus logic makes Tome I. of the twenty-one tomes of Albert's _Opera_. Tome -II. contains his expository paraphrases of Aristotle's _Physics_ and -lesser treatises upon physical topics, celestial and terrestrial. From the -opening chapter we have already taken the programme of his large intention -to make known all Aristotle to the Latins. In this chapter likewise he -proceeds to lay out the divisions of _philosophia realis_ into -Aristotelian conceptions of _metaphysica_, _mathematica_, and _physica_. -With chapter two he falls into the first of his interminable digressions, -taking up what were called "the objections of Heracleitus" to any science -of physics. Another digressive chapter considers the proper subject of -physical science, to wit, _corpus mobile_, and another considers its -divisions. After a while he takes up the opinions of the ancients upon the -beginnings (_principia_) of things, and then reasons out the true opinion -in the matter. Liber II. of his _Physica_ is devoted to _Natura_, -considered in many ways, but chiefly as the _principium intrinsecum omnium -eorum quae naturalia sunt_. It is the principle of motion in the mobile -substance. Next he passes to a discussion of causes; and in the succeeding -books he considers movement, place, time, and eternity. Albert's -paraphrase is replete with logical forms of thinking; it seems like formal -logic applied in physical science. The world about us still furnishes, or -_is_, data for our thoughts; and we try to conceive it consistently, so as -to satisfy our thinking; so did Aristotle and Albertus. But they avowedly -worked out their conceptions of the external world according to the laws -determining the consistency of their own mental processes; and deemed this -a proper way of approach to natural science. Yet the work of Aristotle -represents a real consideration of the universe, and a tremendous mass of -natural knowledge. The achievement of Albertus in rendering it available -to the scholar-world of the thirteenth century was an extension of -knowledge which seems the more prodigious as we note its enormous range. -This continues to impress us as we turn over Albert's next treatises, -paraphrasing those of Aristotle, as their names indicate: _De coelo et -mundo_; _De generatione et corruptione_; _Libri IV. meteorum_; _De -mineralibus_, which ends Tome II. and the physical treatises proper. - -Tome III. introduces us to another region, opening with Albert's -exhaustive paraphrase, _De anima_. It is placed here because the _scientia -de anima_ is a part of _naturalis scientia_, and comes after minerals and -other topics of physics, but precedes the science of animate -bodies--_corporum animatorum_; for the last cannot be known except through -knowing their _animae_. In this, as well as in other works of Albert, -psychological material is gathered from many sources. One may hardly speak -of the psychology of Albertus Magnus, since his matter has no organic -unity. It is largely Aristotelian, with the thoughts of Arab commentators -taken into it, as in Albert's Aristotelian paraphrases generally. But it -is also Augustinian, and Platonic and Neo-Platonic. Albert is capable of -defending opposite views in the same treatise; and in spite of best -intentions, he does not succeed in harmonizing what he draws from -Aristotle, with what he takes from Augustine. Hence his works nowhere -present a system of psychology which might be called Albert's, either -through creation or consistent selection. But at least he has gathered, -and bestowed somewhere, all the accessible material.[569] - -Tome III. of Albert's _Opera_ contains also his Aristotelian paraphrase, -_Metaphysicorum libri XIII._ In this _vera sapientia philosophiae_, he -follows Aristotle closely, save where orthodoxy compels deviation.[570] -Tome IV. contains his paraphrasing expositions, _Ethica_ and _In octo -libros politicorum Aristotelis commentarii_. Tome V. contains paraphrases -of Aristotle's minor natural treatises,--_parva naturalia_; to wit, the -_Liber de sensu et sensato_, treating problems of sense-perception; next -the _Liber de memoria et reminiscentia_, in which the two are thus -distinguished: "Memoria motus continuus est in rem, et uniformis. -Reminiscibilitas autem est motus quasi interceptus et abscissus per -oblivionem." Treatises follow: _De somno et vigilia_; _De motibus -animalium_; _De aetate, sive de juventute et senectute_; _De spiritu et -respiratione_; _De morte et vita_; _De nutrimento et nutribile_; _De -natura et origine animae_; _De unitate intellectus contra Averroem_ (a -controversial tract); _De intellectu et intelligibile_ (an important -psychological writing); _De natura locorum_; _De causis proprietatum -elementorum_; _De passionibus aeris, sive de vaporum impressionibus_; and -next and last, saving some minor tracts, Albert's chief botanical work, -_De vegetabilibus_. - -Aristotle's _Botany_ was lost, and Albert's work was based on the _De -plantis_ of Nicolas of Damascus, a short compend vulgarly ascribed to -Aristotle, but really made in the first century, and passing through -numerous translations from one language to another, before Albert accepted -it as the composition of the Stagirite. It consisted of two short books; -Albert's work contained seven long ones, and made the most important work -on botany since the times of Aristotle and his pupil Theophrastus. In -opening, Albert says that generalities applicable to all animate things -have been already presented, and now it is time to consider more -especially and in turn, _vegetabilia_, _sensibilia_, _rationabilia_. In -the first eight chapters of his first book, Albert follows his supposed -Aristotelian source, and then remarks that the translation of the -Philosopher's treatise is so ignorantly made that he will himself take up -in order the six problems thus far incompetently discussed. So he -considers whether plants have souls; whether plant-souls feel and desire; -whether plants sleep; as to sex in plants; whether without sex they can -propagate their species; and as to their hidden life. - -In the second book, having again bewailed the insufficiency of his source, -Albert takes up the classification of plants, and proceeds with a -description of their various parts, then passes on to the shape of leaves, -the generation and nature of flowers, their colour, odour, and shape. -Liber III., still as an independent _digressio_, discusses seeds and -fruit. In Liber IV. Albert returns to his unhappy source, and his matter -declines in interest; but again, in Liber V., he frees himself in a -_digressio_ on the properties and effects of plants, gathered from many -sources, some of which are foolish enough. His sixth book is a description -of trees and other plants in alphabetical order. The last and seventh is -devoted to agriculture.[571] - -In the _De vegetabilibus_, Albert, as an expounder of natural knowledge, -is at his best. A less independent and intelligent production is his -enormous treatise _De animalibus libri XXVI._, which fills the whole of -Tome IV. of Albert's _Opera_. A certain Thomas of Cantimpré, an admiring -pupil of Albert, may have anticipated the above-named work of his teacher -by his own compilation, _De naturis rerum_, which appears to have been -composed shortly before the middle of the thirteenth century. Its -descriptions of animals, although borrowed and uncritical, were at least -intended to describe them actually, and were not merely fashioned for the -moral's sake, after the manner of the _Physiologus_,[572] and many a -compilation of the early Middle Ages. Yet the work contains moralities -enough, and plenty of the fabulous. But Thomas diligently gathered -information as he might, and from Aristotle more than any other. Thus, in -his lesser way, he, as well as Albert, represents the tendency of the -period to interest itself in the realities, as well as in the symbolisms, -of the natural world. - -Albert's work is not such an inorganic compilation as Thomas's. He has -paraphrased the ten books of Aristotle's natural histories, his four books -on the parts of animals, and his five books on their generation. To these -nineteen, he has added seven books on the nature of animal bodies and on -their grades of perfection; and then on quadrupeds, birds, aquatic -animals, snakes, and small bloodless creatures. Besides Aristotle, he -draws on Avicenna, Galen, Ambrose (!), and others, including Thomas of -Cantimpré. Thus, his work is made up mainly of the ancient written -material. Moreover, Albert is kept from a natural view of his subject -through the need he feels to measure animals by the standards of human -capacity, and learn to know them through knowing man. His _digressiones_ -usually discuss abstract problems, as, for instance, whether beyond the -four elements, any fifth principle enters the composition of animal -bodies. As for his anatomy, he describes the muscles, and calls the veins -nerves, having no real knowledge of the latter. He corrects few ancient -errors, either anatomical or physiological; and his own observations, -occasionally referred to in his work, scarcely win our respect. Nor does -he exclude fabulous stories, or the current superstitions as to the -medicinal or magical effect of parts of certain animals. On the whole, -Albert's merit in the province of Zoology lies in his introduction of the -Aristotelian data and conceptions to the mediaeval Latin West.[573] - -After Tome IV. of Albert's _Opera_, follow many portly tomes, the contents -of which need not detain us. There are enormous commentaries on the Psalms -and Prophets, and the Gospels (Tomes VII.-XI.); then a tome of sermons, -then a tome of commentaries on the Hierarchies of Pseudo-Dionysius; and -three tomes of commentaries on the Lombard's _Sentences_,--commentaries, -that is to say, upon works which stood close to Scripture in authority. -With these we reach the end of Albert's labours in paraphrase and -commentary, and pass to his more constructive work. Of course, the first -and chief is his _Summa theologiae_, contained in Tomes XVII. and XVIII. -of the _Opera_. With Albert, theology is a science, a branch of systematic -knowledge, the highest indeed, and yet one among others. This science, -says he in the Prologue to his _Summa_, - - "... is of all sciences the most entitled to credence--_certissimae - credulitatis et fidei_. Other sciences, concerning creatures, possess - _rationes immobiles_, yet those _rationes_ are _mobiles_ because they - are in created things. But this science founded in _rationibus - aeternis_ is immutable both _secundum esse_ and _secundum rationem_. - And since it is not constituted of the sensible and imaginable, which - are not quite cleared of the hangings of matter, plainly it, alone or - supremely, is science: for the divine intellect is altogether - intellectual, being the light and cause of everything intelligible; - and from it to us is the divine science." - -Albert's dialectic is turgid enough, and lacks the lucidity of his pupil. -Yet his reasoning may be weighty and even convincing. Intellect, Reason -and its realm of that which is known through Reason, is higher than sense -perceptions and imaginations springing from them: it affords the surest -knowledge; the science that treats of pure reason, which is in God, is the -surest and noblest of sciences. Albert clearly defines the province and -nature of theology. - - "It is _scientia secundum pietatem_; it is not concerned with the - knowable (_scibile_) simply as such, nor with the knowable - universally; but only as it inclines us to Piety. Piety, as Augustine - says, is the worship of God, perfected by faith, hope, charity, - prayer, and sacrifices. Thus theology is the science of what pertains - to salvation; for piety conduces to salvation."[574] - -The _Summa theologiae_ treats of the encyclopaedic matter of the sacred -science, in the order and arrangement with which we are familiar.[575] It -is followed (Tome XIX.) by Albert's _Summa de creaturis_, a presentation -of God's creation, omitting the special topics set forth in the _De -vegetabilibus_ and _De animalibus_. It treats of creation, of matter, of -time and eternity, of the heavens and celestial bodies, of angels, their -qualities and functions, and the hierarchies of them; of the state of the -wicked angels, of the works of the six days, briefly; and then of man, -soul and body, very fully; of man's habitation and the order and -perfection of the universe. Thus the _Summa de creaturis_ treats of the -world and man as God's creation; but it is not directly concerned with -man's salvation, which is the distinguishing purpose of a _Summa -theologiae_, however encyclopaedic such a work may be. - -Two tomes remain of Albert's opera, containing much that is very different -from anything already considered. Tome XX. is devoted to the Virgin Mary, -and is chiefly made up of two prodigious tracts: _De laudibus beatae -Mariae Virginis libri XII._, and the _Mariale, sive quaestiones super -evangelium, Missus est angelus Gabriel_. These works--it is disputed -whether Albert was their author--are a glorification, indeed a -deification, of Mary. They are prodigious; they are astounding. The -worship of Mary is gathered up in them, of Mary the chief and best beloved -religious creation of the Middle Ages; only not a creation, strictly -speaking, for the Divine Virgin, equipped with attribute and quality, -sprang from the fecund matrix of the early Church. The works before us -represent a simpler piety than Albert's _Summa theologiae_. They contain -satisfying, consoling statements, not woven of dialectic. And the end is -all that the Mary-loving soul could wish. "Christ protects the servants of -His genetrix:--and so does Mary, as may be read in her miracles, protect -us from our bodily enemies, and from the seducers of souls."[576] The -praises of Mary will seem marvellous indeed to anyone turning over the -_tituli_ of books and chapters. There is here a whole mythology, and a -universal symbolism. Symbolically, Mary is everything imaginable; she has -every virtue and a mass of power and privileges. She is the adorable and -chief efficient Goddess mediating between the Trinity and the creature -man. - -Tome XXI., last tome of all, has a variety of writings, some of which may -not be Albert's. Among them is a work of sweet and simple piety, a work -of turning to God as a little child; and one would be loath to take it -away from this man of learning. _De adhaerendo Deo_ is its title, which -tells the story. Albert wished at last to write something presenting man's -ultimate perfection, so far as that might be realized in this life. So he -writes this little tract of chamber-piety, as to how one should cling to -Christ alone. Yet he cannot disencumber himself of his lifelong methods of -composition. He might conceive and desire; but it was not for him to write -a tract to move the heart. The best he can say is that the end of all our -study and discipline is _intendere et quiescere in Domino Deo intra te per -purissimum intellectum, et devotissimum affectum sine phantasmatibus et -implicationibus_. The great scholar would come home at last, like a little -child, if he only could. - - - - -CHAPTER XL - -THOMAS AQUINAS - - I. THOMAS'S CONCEPTION OF HUMAN BEATITUDE. - - II. MAN'S CAPACITY TO KNOW GOD. - - III. HOW GOD KNOWS. - - IV. HOW THE ANGELS KNOW. - - V. HOW MEN KNOW. - - VI. KNOWLEDGE THROUGH FAITH PERFECTED IN LOVE. - - -I - -With Albert it seemed most illuminating to outline the masses of his work -of Aristotelian purveyorship and inchoate reconstruction of the Christian -encyclopaedia in conformity with the new philosophy. Such a treatment will -not avail for Thomas. His achievement, even measured by its bulk, was as -great as Albert's. But its size and encyclopaedic inclusiveness do not -represent its integral excellences. The intellectual qualities of Thomas, -evinced in his work, are of a higher order than those included in -intelligent diligence, however exceptional. They must be disengaged from -out of the vast product of their energies, in order that they may be -brought together, and made to appear in the organic correlation which they -held in the mind of the most potent genius of scholasticism. - -We are pleased to find some clue to a man's genius in the race and place -from which he draws his origin. So for whatever may be its explanatory -value as to Thomas, one may note that he came of Teutonic stocks, which -for some generations had been domiciled in the form-giving Italian land. -The mingled blood of princely Suabian and Norman lines flowed in him; the -nobility of his father's house, the Counts of Aquinum, was equalled by -his mother's lineage. Probably in 1225 he was born, in Southern Italy, not -far from Monte Cassino. Thither, as a child, he was sent to school to the -monks, and stayed with them through childhood's formative period. His -education did not create the mind which it may have had part in directing -to sacred study. Near his tenth year, the extraordinary boy was returned -to Naples, there to study the humanities and philosophy under selected -masters. When eighteen, he launched himself upon the intellectual currents -of the age by joining the Dominican Order. Stories have come down of the -violent, but fruitless opposition of his family. In two years, with true -instinct, Thomas had made his way from Naples to the feet of Albert in -Cologne. Thenceforth the two were to be together, as their tasks -permitted, and the loyal relationship between master and scholar was -undisturbed by the latter's transcendent genius. Plato had the greatest -pupil, and Aristotle the greatest master, known to fame. That pupil's work -was a redirecting of philosophy. The work of pupil Thomas perfected -finally the matter upon which his master laboured; and the master's aged -eyes beheld the finished structure that was partly his, when the pupil's -eyes had closed. Thomas, dying, left Albert to defend the system that was -to be called "Thomist," after him who constructed and finished it to its -very turret points, rather than "Albertist," after him who prepared the -materials. - -To return to the time when both still laboured. Thomas in 1245 accompanied -his master to Paris, and three years later went back with him to Cologne. -Thereafter their duties often separated them. We know that in 1252 Thomas -was lecturing at Paris, and that he there received with Bonaventura the -title of _magister_ in 1257. After this he is found south of the Alps; it -was in the year 1263 that Urban IV. at Rome encouraged him to undertake a -critical commentary upon Aristotle, based on a closer rendering into Latin -of the Greek. In 1268, at the height of his academic fame, he is once more -at Paris; which he leaves for the last time in 1272, having been directed -to establish a _studium generale_ at Naples. Two years later he died, on -his way to advise the labours of the Council assembled at Lyons.[577] - -Thomas wrote commentaries upon the Aristotelian _De interpretatione_ and -_Posterior Analytics_; the _Physics_, the _De coelo et mundo_, the -_Meteorum_, the _Metaphysics_, _Ethics_, _Politics_, and certain other -Aristotelian treatises. His work shows such a close understanding of -Aristotle as the world had not known since the days of the ancient -Peripatetics. Of course, he lectured on the _Sentences_, and the result -remains in his Commentaries on them. He lectured, and the resulting -Commentaries exist in many tomes, on the greater part of both the Old and -New Testaments. It would little help our purpose to catalogue in detail -his more constructive and original works, wherein he perfected a system of -philosophy and sacred knowledge. Chief among them were the _Summa contra -Gentiles_ and the _Summa theologiae_, the latter the most influential work -of all western mediaeval scholasticism. Many of his more important shorter -treatises are included in the _Quaestiones disputatae_, and the -_Quodlibetalia_. They treat of many matters finally put together in the -_Summa theologiae_. _De malo in communi, de peccatis, etc._; _De anima_; -_De virtutibus in communi, etc._; _De veritate_; _De ideis_; _De -cognitione angelorum_; _De bono_; _De voluntate_; _De libero arbitrio_; -_De passionibus animae_; _De gratia_;--such are titles drawn from the -_Quaestiones_. The _Quodlibetalia_ were academic disputations held in the -theological faculty, upon any imaginable thesis having theological -bearing. Some of them still appear philosophical, while many seem bizarre -to us; for example: Whether an angel can move from one extreme to the -other without passing through the middle. One may remember that such -questions had been put, and put again, from the time of the Church -Fathers. This question answered by Thomas whether an angel may pass from -one extreme to the other without traversing the middle is pertinent to the -conception of angels as completely immaterial beings,--a conception upon -the elaboration of which theologians expended much ingenious thought. - -In the earlier Middle Ages, when men were busy putting together the -ancient matter, the personalities of the writers may not clearly appear. -It is different in the twelfth century, and very different in the -thirteenth, when the figures of at least its greater men are thrown out -plainly by their written works. Bonaventura is seen lucidly reasoning, but -with his ardently envisioning piety ever reaching out beyond; the -personality of Albert most Teutonically wrestles itself into salience -through the many-tomed results of his very visible efforts; when we come -to Roger Bacon, we shall find wormwood, and many higher qualities of mind, -flowing in his sentences. And the consummate fashioning faculty, the -devout and intellectual temperament of Thomas, are writ large in his -treatises. His work has unity; it is a system; it corresponds to the -scholastically creative personality, from the efficient concord of whose -faculties it proceeded. The unity of Thomas's personality lay in his -conception of man's _summum bonum_, which sprang from his Christian faith, -but was constructed by reason from foundation to pinnacle; and it is -evinced in the compulsion of an intellectual temperament that never let -the pious reasoner's energies or appetitions stray loitering or aberrant -from that goal. Likewise the unity of his system consists in its purpose, -which is to present that same _summum bonum_, credited by faith, -empowered, if not empassioned, by piety, and constructed by reason. To -fulfil this purpose in its utmost compass, reason works with the material -of all pertinent knowledge; fashioning the same to complete logical -consistency of expression. - -Therefore, it is from his conception of this _summum bonum_ as from a -centre of illumination, that we may trace the characteristic qualities -alike of Thomas and his work. His faith, his piety, and his intellectual -nature are revealed in his thought of supreme felicity. Man's chief good -being the ground of the system, the thought and study which Thomas puts -upon the created universe and upon God, regarded both as Creator and in -the relationships of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, conduce to make large -and sure and ample this same chief good of man. To it likewise conduce the -Incarnation, and the Sacraments springing therefrom; in accord with it, -Thomas accepts or constructs his metaphysics, his psychology, his entire -thought of human capacity and destiny, and sets forth how nearly man's -reason may bring him to this goal, and where there is need of divine -grace. In this goal, moreover, shall be found the sanction of human -knowledge, and the justification of the right enjoyment of human -faculties; it determines what elements of mortal life may be gathered up -and carried on, to form part of the soul's eternal beatitude. - -Thomas's intellectual powers work together in order to set his thought of -man's _summum bonum_ on its surest foundations, and make clear its scope: -his faculty of arrangement, and serious and lucid presentation; his -careful reasoning, which never trips, never overlooks, and never either -hurries or is taken unprepared; his marvellous unforgetfulness of -everything which might remotely bear on the subject; his intellectual -poise, and his just weighing of every matter that should be taken into the -scales of his determination. Observing these, we may realize how he seemed -to his time a new intellectual manifestation of God's illuminating grace. -There was in him something unknown before; his argument, his exposition, -was new in power, in interest, in lucidity. On the quality of newness the -wretched old biographer rings his reiteration: - - "For in his lectures he put out _new_ topics (_articulos_), inventing - a _new_ and clear way of drawing conclusions and bringing _new_ - reasons into them, so that no one, who had heard him teach _new_ - doubts and allay them by _new_ arguments, would have doubted that God - had illumined with rays of _new_ light one who became straightway of - such sure judgment, that he did not hesitate to teach and write _new_ - opinions, which God had deigned _newly_ to inspire."[578] - -His biographer's view is justified. Thomas was the greatest of the -schoolmen. His way of teaching, his translucent exposition, came to his -hearers as a new inspiration. Only Bonaventura (likewise Italian-born) may -be compared with him for clearness of exposition--of solution indeed; and -Thomas is more judicial, more supremely intellectual; his way of treatment -was a stronger incitement and satisfaction to at least the minds of his -auditors. Albert, with his mass of but half-conquered material, could not -fail to show, whether he would or not, the doubt-breeding difficulties of -the new philosophy, which was yet to be worked into Christian theology. -Thomas exposed every difficulty and revealed its depths; but then he -solved and adjusted everything with an argumentation from whose careful -inclusiveness no questions strayed unshepherded. Placed with Thomas, -Albert shows as the Titan whose strength assembles the materials, while -Thomas is the god who erects the edifice. The material that Thomas works -with, and many of his thoughts and arguments, are to be found in Albert; -and the pupil knew his indebtedness to the great master, who survived him -to defend his doctrines. But what is not in Albert, is Thomas, Thomas -himself, with his disentangled reasoning, his clarity, his organic -exposition, his final construction of the mediaeval Christian scheme.[579] - -In the third book of his _Summa philosophica contra Gentiles_, and in the -beginning of _Pars prima secundae_ of his _Summa theologiae_, Thomas -expounds man's final end, _ultimus finis_, which is his supreme good or -perfect beatitude. The exposition in the former work, dating from the -earlier years of the author's academic activities, seems the simpler at -first reading; but the other includes more surely Thomas's last reasoning, -placed in the setting of argument and relationship which he gave it in his -greatest work. We shall follow the latter, borrowing, however, from the -former when its phrases seem to present the matter more aptly to our -non-scholastic minds. The general position of the topic is the same in -both _Summae_; and Thomas gives the reason in the Prologus to _Pars prima -secundae_ of the _Summa theologiae_. His way of doing this is significant: - - "Man is declared to be made in the image of God in this sense (as - Damascenus[580] says) that by 'image' is meant _intellectual_, _free - to choose_, and _self-potent to act_. Therefore, after what has been - said of the Exemplar God, and of those things which proceed from the - divine power according to its will, there remains for us to consider - His image, to wit, man, in so far as he is himself the source - (_principium_) of his acts, possessing free will and power over them." - -Thereupon Thomas continues, opening his first Quaestio:[581] - - "First one must consider the final end (_ultimus finis_) of human - life, and then those things through which man may attain this end, or - deviate from it. For one must accept from an end the rationale of - those things which are ordained to that end." - -Assuming the final end of human life to be beatitude, Thomas considers -wherein man as a rational creature may properly have one final end, on -account of which he wills all that he wills. Quaestio ii. shows that man's -beatitude cannot consist in riches, honours, fame, power, pleasures of the -body, or in any created good, not even in the soul. Man gains his -beatitude _through_ the soul; but in itself the soul is not man's final -end. The next Quaestio is devoted to the gist of the matter: what -beatitude is, and what is needed for it. Thomas first shows in what sense -beatitude is something increate (_increatum_). He has already pointed out -that _end_ (_finis_) has a twofold meaning: the thing itself which we -desire to obtain, and the fruition of it. - - "In the first sense, the final end of man is an increate good, to wit - God, who alone with His infinite goodness can perfectly fulfil the - wish (_voluntas_) of man. In the second sense the final end of man is - something created existing in himself; which is nought else than - attainment or fruition (_adeptio vel fruitio_) of the final end. The - final end is called beatitude. If then man's beatitude is viewed as - cause or object, it is something increate; but if it is considered in - its beatific essence (_quantum ad ipsam essentiam beatitudinis_) it is - something created." - -Thomas next shows: - - "... that inasmuch as man's beatitude is something created existing in - himself, it is necessary to regard it as action (_operatio_). For - beatitude is man's ultimate perfection. But everything is perfect in - so far as it is actually (_actu_, _i.e._ in realized actuality): for - potentiality without actuality is imperfect. Therefore beatitude - should consist in man's ultimate actuality. But manifestly action - (_operatio_) is the final actuality of the actor (_operantis_); as the - Philosopher shows, demonstrating that everything exists for its action - (_propter suam operationem_). Hence it follows of necessity that man's - beatitude is action." - -The next point to consider is whether beatitude is the action of man's -senses or his intellect. Drawing distinctions, Thomas points out that - - "the action of sense cannot pertain to beatitude essentially; because - man's beatitude essentially consists in uniting himself to the - increate good; to which he cannot be joined through the action of the - senses. Yet sense-action may pertain to beatitude as an antecedent or - consequence: as an antecedent, for the imperfect beatitude attainable - in this life, where the action of the senses is a prerequisite to the - action of the mind; as a consequence, in that perfect beatitude which - is looked for in heaven; because, after the resurrection, as Augustine - says, from the very beatitude of the soul, there may be a certain - flowing back into the body and its senses, perfecting them in their - actions. But not even then will the action by which the human mind is - joined to God depend on sense." - -Beatitude then is the action of man's intellectual part; and Thomas next -inquires, whether it is an action of the intelligence or will -(_intellectus aut voluntatis_). With this inquiry we touch the pivot of -Thomas's attitude, wherein he departs from Augustine, in apparent reliance -on the word of John: "This is eternal life that they should know thee, the -one true God." Life eternal is man's final end; and therefore man's -beatitude consists in knowledge of God, which is an act of mind. Thomas -argues this at some length. He refers to the distinction between what is -essential to the existence of beatitude, and what is joined to it _per -accidens_, like enjoyment (_delectatio_). - - "I say then, that beatitude in its essence cannot consist in an act of - will. For it has appeared that beatitude is the obtaining - (_consecutio_) of the final end. But obtaining does not consist in any - act of will; for will attaches to the absent when one desires it, as - well as to the present in which one rests delighted. It is evident - that the desire for an end is not an obtaining of it, but a movement - toward it. Enjoyment attaches to will from the presence of the end; - but not conversely does anything become present because the will shall - delight in it. Therefore there must be something besides an act of - will, through which the end may become present to the will. This is - plain respecting the ends of sense (_fines sensibiles_). For if to - obtain money were an act of will, the miser would have obtained it - from the beginning. And so it comes to pass with respect to an end - conceived by the mind; we obtain it when it becomes present to us - through an act of the intellect; and then the delighted will rests in - the end obtained. Thus, therefore, the essence of beatitude consists - in an act of mind. But the delight which follows beatitude pertains to - will, even in the sense in which Augustine says: 'beatitudo est - gaudium de veritate,' because indeed joy is the consummation of - beatitude." - -The supremely intellectual attitude of the Angelic Doctor, shows at once, -and as it were universally, in his conviction of the primacy of the true -over the good, and of knowledge over will. Sometimes he argues these -points directly; and again, his temperamental attitude appears in the -course of argument upon other points. For example, Quaestio xvi. of _Pars -prima_ has for its subject _Veritas_. And in the first article, which -discusses whether truth is in the thing (_in re_) or only in the mind, he -argues thus: - - "As _good_ signifies that upon which desire (_appetitus_) is bent, so - _true_ signifies that at which understanding aims. There is this - difference between desire and understanding or any kind of cognition: - cognition exists in so far as what is known (_cognitum_) is in the - knower; but desire is as the desirous inclines toward the desired. - Thus the end (_terminus_ == _finis_) of desire, which is the _good_, - is in the desirable thing; but the end of knowing, which is the true, - is in mind itself." - -In _Articulus 4_, Thomas comes to his point: that the true _secundum -rationem_ (_i.e._ according to its formal nature) is prior to the good. - - "Although both the good and the true have been taken as convertible - with being, yet they differ in their conception (_ratione_); and that - the true is prior to the good appears from two considerations: First, - the true is more closely related to being, which is prior to the good; - for the true regards being itself, simply and directly; while the - ratio of the good follows being as in some way perfect, and therefore - desirable. Secondly, cognition naturally precedes desire. Therefore, - since the true regards cognition, and the good regards desire, the - true is prior to the good _secundum rationem_." - -This argument, whatever validity it may have, is significant of its -author's predominantly intellectual temperament, and consistent with his -conception of man's supreme beatitude as the intellectual vision of God. -Obviously, moreover, the setting of the true above the good is another way -of stating the primacy of knowledge over will, which is also maintained: -"Will and understanding (_intellectus_) mutually include each other: for -the understanding knows the will; and the will wills that the -understanding should know."[582] Evidently all rational beings have will -as well as understanding; God wills, the Angels will, man wills. Indeed, -how could knowledge progress but for the will to know? Yet of the two, -considered in themselves, understanding is higher than will-- - - "for its object is the _ratio_, the very essential nature, of the - desired good, while the object of will is the desired good whose - _ratio_ is in the understanding.... Yet will may be the higher, if it - is set upon something higher than the understanding.... When the thing - in which is the good is nobler than the soul itself, in which is the - rational cognizance (_ratio intellecta_), the will, through relation - to that thing, is higher than the understanding. But when the thing in - which is the good, is lower than the soul, then in relation to that - thing, the understanding is higher than the will. Wherefore the love - of God is better than the cognizance (_cognitio_); but the cognizance - of corporeal things is better than the love. Yet taken absolutely, the - understanding is higher than the will."[583] - -These positions of the Angelic Doctor were sharply opposed in his lifetime -and afterwards. Without entering the lists, let us rather follow him on -his evidently Aristotelian path, which quickly brings him to his next -conclusion: "That beatitude consists in the action of the speculative -rather than the practical intellect, as is evident from three arguments: - - "First, if man's beatitude is action, it ought to be the man's best - (optima) action. But man's best action is that of his best faculty in - respect to the best object. The best faculty is intelligence, whose - best object is the divine good, which is not an object of the - practical, but of the speculative intelligence. Wherefore, in such - action, to wit, in contemplation of things divine, beatitude chiefly - consists. And because _every one seems to be that which is best in - him_, as is said in the _Ethics_, so such action is most proper to man - and most enjoyable. - - "Secondly, the same conclusion appears from this, that contemplation - above all is sought on account of itself. The perfection (_actus_, - full realization) of the practical intelligence is not sought on - account of itself, but for the sake of action: the actions themselves - are directed toward some end. Hence it is evident that the final end - cannot consist in the _vita activa_, which belongs to the practical - intelligence. - - "Thirdly, it is plain from this, that in the _vita contemplativa_ man - has part with those above him, to wit, God and the Angels, unto whom - he is made like through beatitude; but in those matters which belong - to the _vita activa_, other animals, however imperfectly, have somehow - part with him. - - "And so the final and perfect beatitude which is looked for in the - life to come, in principle consists altogether in contemplation. But - the imperfect beatitude which may be had here, consists first and in - principle in contemplation, and secondly in the true operation of the - practical intellect directing human actions and passions, as is said - in the tenth book of the _Ethics_." - -It being thus shown that perfect beatitude lies in the action of the -speculative intelligence, Thomas next shows that it cannot consist in -consideration of the speculative sciences-- - - "for the consideration of a science does not reach beyond the potency - (_virtus_) of the principles of that science, seeing that the whole - science is contained potentially (_virtualiter_) in its principles. - But the principles of speculative sciences are received through the - senses, as the Philosopher makes clear. Therefore the entire - consideration of the speculative sciences cannot be extended beyond - that to which a cognition of sense-objects (_sensibilium_) is able to - lead. Man's final beatitude, which is his perfection, cannot consist - in the cognition of sense-objects. For no thing is perfected by - something inferior, except as there may be in the inferior some - participation in a superior. Evidently the nature (_forma_) of a - stone, or any other sensible thing, is inferior to man, save in so far - as something higher than the human intelligence has part in it, like - the light of reason.... But since there is in sensible forms some - participation in the similitude of spiritual substances, the - consideration of the speculative sciences is, in a certain way, - participation in true and perfect beatitude." - -Neither can perfect beatitude consist in knowledge of the higher, entirely -immaterial, or, as Thomas calls them, separate (_separatae_) substances, -to wit, the Angels. Because it cannot consist in that which is the -perfection of intelligence only from participation. The object of the -intelligence is the true. Whatever has truth only through participation in -something else cannot make the contemplating intelligence perfect with a -final perfection. But the angels have their being (_esse_) as they have -their truth, from the participation of the divine in them. Whence it -remains that only the contemplation of God, Who alone is truth through His -essential being, can make perfectly blessed. "But," adds Thomas, "nothing -precludes the expectation of some imperfect beatitude from contemplating -the angels, and even a higher beatitude than lies in the consideration of -the speculative sciences." - -So the conclusion is that "the final and perfect beatitude can be only in -the vision of the divine essence. The proof of this lies in the -consideration of two matters: first, that man is not perfectly blessed -(_beatus_) so long as there remains anything for him to desire or seek; -secondly, that the perfection of every capacity (_potentiae_), is adjudged -according to the nature (_ratio_) of its object." And a patent line of -argument leads to the unavoidable conclusion: "For perfect beatitude it is -necessary that the intellect should attain to the very essence of the -first cause. And thus it will have its perfection through union with God -as its object." - -There are few novel thoughts in Thomas's conception of man's supreme -beatitude. But he has taken cognizance of all pertinent considerations, -and put the whole matter together with stable coherency. He continues, -discussing in the succeeding Quaestiones a number of important matters -incidental to his central determination of the nature of man's supreme -good. Thus he shows how joy (_delectatio_) is a necessary accompaniment of -beatitude, which, however, in principle consists in the action of the -mind, which is _visio_, rather than in the resulting _delectatio_. The -latter consists in a quieting or satisfying of the will, through the -goodness of that in which it is satisfied. When the will is satisfied in -any action, that results from the goodness of the action; and the good -lies in the action itself rather than in the quieting of the will.[584] -Here Thomas's reasoning points to an active ideal, an ideal of energizing, -rather than repose. But he concludes that for beatitude "there must be a -concurrence of _visio_, which is the perfect cognizance of the -intelligible end; the getting it, which implies its presence; and the joy -or fruition, which implies the quieting of that which loves in that which -is loved."[585] Thomas also shows how rectitude of will is needed, and -discusses whether a body is essential; his conclusion being that a body is -not required for the perfect beatitude of the life to come; yet he gives -the counter considerations, showing the conduciveness of the perfected -body to the soul's beatitude even then. Next he follows Aristotle in -pointing out how material goods may be necessary for the attainment of the -imperfect beatitude possible on earth, while they are quite impertinent to -the perfect beatitude of seeing God; and likewise he shows how the society -of friends is needed here, but not essential hereafter, and yet a -concomitant to our supreme felicity. - -The course of argument of the Liber iii. of the _Contra Gentiles_ is not -dissimilar. A number of preliminary chapters show how all things tend to -an end; that the end of all is God; and that to know God is the end of -every intellectual being. Next, that human _felicitas_ does not consist in -all those matters, in which the _Summa theologiae_ also shows that -_beatitude_ does not lie; but that it consists in contemplation of God. He -puts his argument simply: - - "It remains that the ultimate felicity of man lies in contemplation of - truth. For this is the sole action (_operatio_) of man which is proper - to man alone. This alone is directed to nothing else, as an end; since - the contemplation of truth is sought for its own sake. Through this - action, likewise, man is joined to higher substances (_beings_) - through likeness of action, and through knowing them in some way. For - this action, moreover, man is most sufficient by himself, needing but - little external aid. To this also all other human acts seem to be - directed as to an end. For to the perfection of contemplation, - soundness of body is needed, to which all the arts of living are - directed. Also quiet from the disturbance of passions is required, to - which one comes through the moral virtues, and prudence; and quiet - also from tumults, to which end all rules of civil life are ordained; - and so, if rightly conceived, all human business seems to serve the - contemplation of truth. Nor is it possible for the final felicity of - man to consist in the contemplation which is confined to an - intelligence of beginnings (_principiorum_), which is most imperfect - and general (_universalis_), containing a knowledge of things - potentially: it is the beginning, not the end of human study. Nor can - that felicity lie in the contemplation of the sciences, which pertain - to the lowest things, since felicity ought to lie in the action of the - intelligence in relationship to the noblest intelligible verities. It - remains that man's final felicity consists in the contemplation of - wisdom pursuant to a consideration of things divine. From which it - also is evident by the way of induction, what was before proved by - arguments, that the final felicity of man consists only in - contemplation of God."[586] - -Having reached this central conclusion of the _Contra Gentiles_, as well -as of the _Summa theologiae_, Thomas proceeds to trim it further, so as -clearly to differentiate that knowledge of God in which lies the ultimate -felicity of intelligent beings from other ways of knowing God, which do -not fully represent this supreme and final bliss. He first excludes the -sort of common and confused knowledge of God, which almost all men draw -from observing the natural order of things; then he shuts out the -knowledge of God derived from logical demonstration, through which, -indeed, one rather approaches a proper knowledge of Him;[587] next, he -will not admit that supreme felicity lies in the cognition of God through -faith; since that is still imperfect. This felicity consists in -seeing[588] the divine essence, an impossibility in this life, when we see -as in a glass. The supreme felicity is attainable only after death. -Hereupon Thomas continues with the very crucial discussion of the capacity -of the rational creature to know God. But instead of following him further -in the _Contra Gentiles_, we will rather turn to his final presentation of -this question in his _Summa theologiae_. - - -II - -The great _Summa_, having opened with an introductory consideration of the -character of _sacra doctrina_,[589] at once fixes its attention upon the -existence and attributes of God. These having been reviewed, Thomas begins -Quaestio xii. by saying, that "as we have now considered what God is in -His own nature (_secundum se ipsum_) it remains to consider what He is in -our cognition, that is, how He is known by creatures." The first question -is whether any created intelligence whatsoever may be able to see God _per -essentiam_. Having stated the counter arguments, and relying on John's "we -shall see Him as He is," Thomas proceeds with his solution thus: - - "Since everything may be knowable so far as it exists in - actuality,[590] God, who is pure actuality, without any mingling of - potentiality, is in Himself, most knowable. But what is most knowable - in itself, is not knowable to every intelligence because of the - exceeding greatness of that which is to be known (_propter excessum - intelligibilis supra intellectum_); as the sun, which is most visible, - may not be seen by a bat, because of the excess of light. Mindful of - this, some have asserted that no created intelligence could behold the - essential nature (_essentiam_) of God. - - "But this is a solecism. For since man's final beatitude consists in - his highest action, which is the action of the intelligence, if the - created intelligence is never to be able to see the essential nature - of God, either it will never obtain beatitude, or its beatitude will - consist in something besides God: which is repugnant to the faith. For - the ultimate perfection of a rational creature lies in that which is - the source or principle (_principium_) of its being. Likewise the - argument is against reason. For there is in man a natural desire to - know the cause, when he observes the effect; and from this, wonder - rises in men. If then the intelligence of the rational creature is - incapable of attaining to the first cause of things, an inane desire - must be ascribed to nature. - - "Wherefore it is simply to be conceded that the blessed may see the - essential nature of God." - -So this general conclusion, or assumption, is based on faith, and also -leaps, as from the head of Jove, the creature of unconquerable human -need, which never will admit the inaneness of its yearnings. And now, -assuming the possibility of seeing God in his true nature, Thomas proves -that He cannot be seen thus through the similitude of any created thing: -in order to behold God's essence some divine likeness must be imparted -from the seeing power (_ex parte visivae potentiae_), to wit, the light of -divine glory (which is consummated grace) strengthening the intelligence -that it may see God. And he next shows that it is impossible to see God by -the sense of sight, or any other sense or power of man's sensible nature. -For God is incorporeal. Therefore He cannot be seen through the -imagination, but only through the intelligence. Nor can any created -intelligence through its natural faculties see the divine essence. -"Cognition takes place in so far as the known is in the knower. But the -known is in the knower according to the mode and capacity (_modus_) of the -knower. Whence any knower's knowledge is according to the measure of his -nature. If then the being of the thing to be known exceeds the measure of -the knowing nature, knowledge of it will be beyond the nature of that -knower." In order to see God in His essential nature, the created -intellect needs light created by God: _In lumine tuo videbimus lumen_. And -it may be given to one created intellect to see more perfectly than -another. - -Do those who see God _per essentiam_, comprehend Him? No. - - "To comprehend God is impossible for any created intelligence. To have - any true thought of God is a great beatitude.... Since the created - light of glory received by any created intelligence, cannot be - infinite, it is impossible that any created intelligence should know - God infinitely, and comprehend Him." - -Again he reasons; They who shall see God in His essence will see what they -see through the divine essence united to their intelligence; they will see -whatever they see at once, and not successively; for the contents of this -intellectual, God-granted vision are not apprehended by means of the -respective species or general images, but in and through the one divine -essence. But in this life, man may not see God in His essential nature: - - "The mode of cognition conforms to the nature of the knower. But our - soul, so long as we live in this life, has its existence (_esse_) in - corporeal matter. Wherefore, by nature, it knows only things that have - material form, or may through such be known. Evidently the divine - essence cannot be known through the natures of material things. Any - cognition of God through any created likeness whatsoever, is not a - vision of His essence.... Our natural cognition draws its origin from - sense; it may extend itself so far as it can be conducted (_manuduci_) - by things of sense (_sensibilia_). But from them our intelligence may - not attain to seeing the divine essence.... Yet since sensible - creatures are effects, dependant on a cause, we know from them that - God exists, and that as first cause He exceeds all that He has caused. - From which we may learn the difference between Himself and His - creatures, to wit, that He is not any of those things which He has - caused.... - - "Through grace a more perfect knowledge of God is had than through - natural reason. For cognition through natural reason needs both images - (_phantasmata_) received from things of sense, and the natural light - of intelligence, through whose virtue we abstract intelligible - conceptions from them. In both respects human cognition is aided - through the revelation of grace. For the natural light of the - intellect is strengthened through the infusion of light graciously - given (_luminis gratuiti_); while the images in the man's imagination - are divinely formed so that they are expressive of things divine, - rather than of what naturally is received through the senses, as - appears from the visions of the prophets."[591] - -Natural reason stops with the unity of God, and can give no knowledge of -the Trinity of divine Persons. Says Thomas:[592] - - "It has been shown that through natural reason man can know God only - _from His creatures_. Creatures lead to knowledge of God as effects - lead to some knowledge of a cause. Only that may be known of God by - natural reason which necessarily belongs to Him as the source of all - existences. The creative virtue of God is common to the whole Trinity; - it pertains to the unity of essence, not to the distinction of - persons. Through natural reason, therefore, those things concerning - God may be known which pertain to the unity of essence, but not those - which pertain to the distinction of persons.... Who strives to prove - the Trinity of Persons by natural reason, doubly disparages faith: - first as regards the dignity of faith itself, which concerns invisible - things surpassing human reason; secondly as derogating from its - efficiency in drawing men to it. For when any one in order to prove - the faith adduces reasons which are not cogent, he falls under the - derision of the faithless; for they think that we use such arguments, - and that we believe because of them. One shall not attempt to prove - things of faith save by authorities, and in discussion with those who - receive the authorities. With others it is enough to argue that what - the faith announces is not impossible." - -Here Thomas seems rationally to recognize the limits upon reason in -discovering the divine nature. In the regions of faith, reason's feet lack -the material footing upon which to mount. So Thomas would assert. But will -he stand to his assertion? The shadowy line between reason and faith -wavers with him. At least so it seems to us, for whom ontological -reasoning has lost reality, and who find proofs of God not so much easier -than proofs of the Trinity. But Thomas and the other scholastics dwelt in -the region of the metaphysically ideal. To them it was not only real, but -the most real; and it was so natural to step across the line of faith, -trailing clouds of reason. The feet of such as Thomas are as firmly -planted on the one side of the line as on the other. And now, as it might -also seem, Thomas, having thus formally reserved the realm of faith, -quickly steps across the line, to undertake a tremendous metaphysical -exposition of the Trinity, of the distinctions between its Persons, of -their properties, respective functions, and relationships; and all this is -carried on largely in the categories of Aristotelian philosophy. Yet is he -not still consistent with himself? For he surely did not conceive the -elements of his discussion to lie in the lucubrations or discoveries of -the natural reason; but in the data of revelation, and their explanation -by saintly doctors. And was not he also a vessel of their inspiration, a -son of faith, who might humbly hope for the light of grace, to transfigure -and glorify his natural powers in the service of revealed truth? - -Thomas's ideal is intellectual, and yet ends in faith. His intellectual -interests, by faith emboldened, strengthened, and pointed heavenward, make -on toward the realisation of that intellectual beatitude which is to be -consummate hereafter, when the saved soul's grace-illumined eye shall -re-awaken where it may see face to face. - - -III - -Knowledge, then, supplemented in this life by faith, is the primary -element of blessedness. We now turn our attention to the forms of -knowledge and modes of knowing appropriate to the three rational -substances: God, angel, man. The first is the absolute incorporeal being, -the primal mover, in whom there is no potentiality, but actuality simple -and perfect. The second is the created immaterial or "separated" -substance, which is all that it is through participation in the uncreate -being of its Creator. The third is the composite creature man, made of -both soul and body, his capacities conditioned upon the necessities of his -dual nature, his sense-perception and imagination being as necessary to -his knowledge, as his rational understanding; for whom alone it is true -that sense-apprehension may lead to the intelligible verities of God: -"etiam sensibilia intellecta manuducunt ad intelligibilia divinorum."[593] - -The earlier Quaestiones of _Pars prima_, on the nature of God, lead on to -a consideration of God's knowledge and ways of knowing. Those Quaestiones -expounded the qualities of God quite as far as comported with Thomas's -realization of the limitation of the human capacity to know God in this -life. Quaestio iii. upon the _Simplicitas_ of God, shows that God is not -body (_corpus_); that in Him there is no compositeness of form and -material; that throughout His nature, He is one and the same, and -therefore that He _is_ His _Deitas_, His _vita_, and whatever else may be -predicated of Him. Next it is shown (Qu. iv.) that God is perfect; that in -Him are the _perfectiones_ of all things, since whatever there may be of -perfection in an effect, should be found in the effective cause; and as -God is self-existent being, He must contain the whole perfection of being -in Himself (_totam perfectionem essendi in se_). Next, that God is the -good (_bonum_) and the _summum bonum_; He is infinite; He is in all things -(Qu. viii. Art. 1) not as a part of their essence, but as _accidens_, and -as the doer is in his deeds; and not only in their beginning, but so long -as they exist; He acts upon everything immediately, and nothing is -distant from Him; God is everywhere: as the soul is altogether in every -part of the body, so God entire is in all things and in each. God is in -all things created by Him as the working cause; but He is in the rational -creature, through grace; as the object of action is in the actor, as the -known is in the knower, and the desired in the wishful. God is immutable -(Qu. ix.); for as final actuality (_actus purus_), with no admixture of -potentiality, He cannot change; nor can He be _moved_; since His -infinitude comprehends the plenitude of all perfection, there is nothing -that He can acquire, and no whither for Him to extend. God is eternal (Qu. -x.); for him there is no beginning, nor any succession of time; but an -interminable now, an all at once (_tota simul_), which is the essence of -eternity, as distinguished from the successiveness of even infinite time. -And God is One (Qu. xi.). "One does not add anything to being, save -negation of division. For One signifies nothing else than undivided being -(_ens indivisum_). And from this it follows that One is convertible with -being." That God is One, is proved by His _simplicitas_; by the -infiniteness of His perfection; and by the oneness of the world. - - "After a consideration," now says Thomas, "of those matters which - pertain to the divine substance, we may consider those which pertain - to its action (_operatio_). And because certain kinds of action remain - in the doer, while others pass out into external effect, we first - treat of knowledge and will (for knowing is in the knower and willing - in him who wills); and then of God's power, which is regarded as the - source of the divine action passing out into external effect. Then, - since knowing is a kind of living, after considering the divine - knowledge, the divine life will be considered. And because knowledge - is of the true, there will be need to consider truth and falsity. - Again since every cognition is in the knower, the _rationes_ (types, - essential natures) of things as they are in God the Knower (_Deo - cognoscente_) are called ideas (_ideae_); and a consideration of these - will be joined to the consideration of knowledge."[594] - -Thus clearly laying out his topic, Thomas begins his discussion of God's -knowledge (_scientia Dei_); of the modes in which God knows and the -knowledge which He has. In God is the most perfect knowledge. God knows -Himself through Himself; in Him knowledge and Knower (_intellectum_ and -_intellectus_) are the same.[595] He perfectly comprehends Himself; for He -knows Himself so far as He is knowable; and He is absolutely knowable -being utter reality (_actus purus_). Likewise He knows things other than -Himself. For He knows Himself perfectly, which implies a knowledge of -those things to which His power (_virtus_) extends. Moreover, He knows all -things in their special natures and distinctions from each other: for the -perfection, or perfected actuality, of everything is contained in Him; and -therefore God in Himself is able to know all things perfectly, and the -special nature of everything exists through some manner of participation -in the divine perfection. God knows all things in one, to wit, Himself; -and not successively, or by means of discursive reasoning. "God's -knowledge is the cause of things. It stands to all created beings as the -knowledge of the artificer to the things he makes. God causes things -through His knowledge, since His being is His knowing (_cum suum esse sit -suum intelligere_)." His knowledge causes things when it has the will -joined with it, and, in so far as it is the cause of things, is called -_scientia approbationis_. God knows things which are not actually -(_actu_). Whatever has been or will be, He knows by the knowledge of sight -(_scientia visionis_, which by implication is equivalent to _scientia -approbationis_). For God's knowing, which is His being, is measured by -eternity; and eternity includes all time, as present, and without -succession; so the present vision (_intuitus_) of God embraces all time -and all things existing at any time, as if present. As for whatever is in -the power of God or creature, but which never has been or will be, God -knows it not as in vision, but simply knows it. - -God also knows evil. - - "Whoever knows anything perfectly should know whatever might happen to - it. There are some good things to which it may happen to be corrupted - through evils: wherefore God would not know the good perfectly, - unless He also knew the evil. Everything is knowable so far as it - _is_; but the being (_esse_) of evil is the privation of good: hence - inasmuch as God knows good, He knows evil, as darkness is known - through light." - -Thomas now takes up a point curious perhaps to us, but of importance to -him and Aristotle: does God know individuals (_singularia_), the -particular as opposed to the universal? This point might seem disposed of -in the argument by which Thomas maintained that God knew things in their -special and distinct natures. But he now proves that God knows -_singularia_ by an argument which bears on his contention that man does -not know _singularia_ through the intelligence, but perceives them through -sense; and as we shall see, that the angels have no direct knowledge of -individuals, being immaterial substances. - - "God knows individuals (_cognoscit singularia_). For all perfections - found in creatures pre-exist in higher mode in God. To know - (_cognoscere_) individuals pertains to our perfection. Whence it - follows that God must know them. The Philosopher (Aristotle) holds it - to be illogical that anything should be known to us, and not to - God.... But the perfections which are divided in inferior beings, - exist simply and as one in God. Hence, although through one faculty we - know universals and what is immaterial, and through another, - individuals and what is material; yet God simply, through His - intelligence, knows both.... One must hold that since God is the cause - of things through His knowledge, the knowledge of God extends itself - as far as His causality extends. Wherefore, since God's active virtue - extends itself not only to forms, from which is received the _ratio_ - of the universal, but also to matter, it is necessary that God's - knowledge should extend itself to individuals, which are such through - matter." - -And replying to a counter-argument Thomas continues: - - "Our intelligence abstracts the intelligible species from the - individuating principles. Therefore the intelligible species of our - intelligence cannot be the likeness of the individual principles; and, - for this reason, our intelligence does not know individuals. But the - intelligible species of the divine intelligence, which is the essence - of God, is not immaterial through abstraction, but through itself; and - exists as the principle of all principles entering the composition of - the thing, whether principles of species or of the individual. - Therefore through His essence God knows both universals and - individuals."[596] - -With these arguments still echoing, Thomas shows that God can know -infinite things; also future contingencies; also whatever may be stated -(_enuntiabilia_). His knowledge, which is His substance, does not change. -It is speculative knowledge, in so far as relating to His own unchangeable -nature, and to whatever He can do, but does not; it is practical knowledge -so far as it relates to anything which He does. - -Thomas concludes his direct discussion of God's knowledge, by an -application of the Platonic theory of _ideas_, in which he mainly follows -Augustine. - - "It is necessary to place _ideas_ in the divine mind. _Idea_ is the - Greek for the Latin _forma_. Thus through _ideas_ are understood the - forms of things existing beyond the things themselves. By which we - mean the prototype (_exemplar_) of that of which it is called the - form; or the principle of its cognition, in so far as the forms of - things knowable are said to be in the knower." - -There must be many ideas or (as Augustine phrases it) stable _rationes_ of -things. There is a _ratio_ in the divine mind corresponding to whatever -God does or knows. - - "Ideas were set by Plato as the principles both of the cognition and - the generation of things, and in both senses they are to be placed in - the divine mind. So far as _idea_ is the principle of the making of a - thing, it may be called the prototype (_exemplar_), and pertains to - practical knowledge (_practicam cognitionem_); but as the principle of - cognition (_principium cognoscitivum_), it is properly called _ratio_, - and may also pertain to speculative knowledge. In the signification of - _exemplar_, it relates to everything created at any time by God: but - when it means _principium cognoscitivum_, it relates to all things - which are known by God, although never coming into existence."[597] - -Such are the divine modes of knowledge. Thomas proceeds to discuss other -aspects of the divine nature, the life and power, will and love, which may -be ascribed to God. He then passes on to a discussion of the Persons of -the Trinity. This completed, he turns to the world of created substances; -into which we will follow him so far as to observe the forms of knowledge -and ways of knowing proper to angels and mankind. We shall hereafter have -to speak of the divine and angelic love, and of man's love of God; but -here, as our field is intellectual, we will simply recall to mind that -Thomas applies a like intellectual conception of beatitude to both God and -His rational creatures: - - "Beatitude, as has been said, signifies the perfect good of the - intellectual nature; as everything desires its perfection, the - intellectual [substance] desires to be _beata_. That which is most - perfect in every intellectual nature, is the intellectual operation - wherein, in a measure, it grasps all things. Wherefore the beatitude - of any created intellectual nature consists in knowing (_in - intelligendo_)."[598] - - -IV - -Thomas regards the creation as a _processio_, a going out of all creatures -from God. Every being (_ens_) that in any manner (_quocumque modo_) is, is -from God. - - "God is the _prima causa exemplaris_ of all things.... For the - production of anything, there is needed a prototype (_exemplar_), in - order that the effect may follow a determined form.... The - determination of forms must be sought in the divine wisdom. Hence one - ought to say that in the divine wisdom are the _rationes_ of all - things: these we have called _ideas_, to wit, prototypal forms - existing in the divine mind. Although such may be multiplied in - respect to things, yet really they are not other than the divine - essence, according as its similitude can be participated in by divers - things in divers ways. Thus God Himself is the first _exemplar_ of - all. There may also be said to be in created things certain - _exemplaria_ of other things, when they are made in the likeness of - such others, or according to the same species or after the analogy of - some resemblance."[599] - -God not only is the efficient and exemplary cause, but also the final -cause of all things (_Divina bonitas est finis omnium rerum_). "The -emanation (_emanatio_) of all being from the universal cause, which is -God, we call creation."[600] God alone may be said to create. The function -pertains not to any Person, but to the whole Trinity in common. And there -is found some image of the Trinity in rational creatures in whom is -intelligence and will; and in all creatures may be found some vestiges of -the creator. - -Thomas, after a while, takes up the distinction between spiritual and -corporeal creatures, and considers first the purely spiritual, called -Angels. We enter with him upon the contemplation of these conceptions, -which scholasticism did not indeed create, but elaborated with marvellous -logic, and refined to a consistent intellectual beauty. None had larger -share in perfecting the logical conception of the angelic nature, as -immaterial and essentially intellectual, than our Angelic Doctor. A volume -might well be devoted to tracing the growth of these beings of the mind, -from their not unmilitant career in the Old Testament and the Jewish -Apocrypha, their brief but classically beautiful mention in the Gospels, -and their storm-red action in the Apocalypse; then through their treatment -by the Fathers, to their hierarchic ordering by the great -Pseudo-Areopagite; and so on and on, through the earlier Scholastics, the -Lombard's _Sentences_, and Hugo of St. Victor's appreciative presentation; -up to the gathering of all the angelic matter by Albertus Magnus, its -further encyclopaedizing by Vincent of Beauvais, and finally its perfect -intellectual disembodiment by Thomas;--while all the time the people's -mythopoeic love went on endowing these guardian spirits with heart and -soul, and fashioning responsive stories of their doings. For men loved and -feared them, and looked to them as God's peculiar messengers. Thus they -flash past us in the _Divina Commedia_; and their forms become lovely in -Christian art. - -As we enter upon the contemplation of the angelic nature, let us not as of -course regard angels simply as imaginative conceptions of Scripture and of -the patristic and mediaeval mind. Thomas will show his reasons for their -necessary existence, which may not convince us. Yet we may believe in -angels, inasmuch as any real conception of the world's governance by God -requires the fulfilling of His thoughts through media that bring them down -to move and live and realize themselves with each of us. Who, in striving -to express, can do more than symbolize, the ways of God? What symbols -truer than angels have been devised? - - "It is necessary," opens Thomas,[601] "to affirm (_ponere_) that there - are incorporeal creatures. For in created things God chiefly intends - the good, which consists in assimilation to Him. Perfect assimilation - of the effect to the cause is seen when the effect resembles the cause - in that through which the cause produces the effect. God produces the - creature through intelligence and will. Consequently the perfection of - the universe requires that there should be intellectual creatures. To - know cannot be the act (_actus_) of the body or of any corporeal - faculty (_virtus_); because all body is limited to here and now. - Therefore it is necessary, in order that the universe may be perfect, - that there should be incorporeal creatures."[602] - -Thomas then argues that the intellectual substance is entirely immaterial. -"Angelic substances are above our understanding. So our understanding -cannot attain to apprehending them as they are in themselves; but only in -its own fashion as it apprehends composite things." These immaterial -substances exist in exceeding great number, and each is a species, because -there cannot be several immaterial beings of one species, any more than -there could be separate whitenesses or many humanities. Angels in their -nature are imperishable. For nothing is corrupted save as its form is -separated from its matter. But these immaterial substances are not -composed of matter and form, being themselves subsisting forms and -indestructible. Brass may have and lose a circular shape; but the circular -shape cannot be separated from the circle, which it is. - -Thomas next shows (_Pars prima_, Qu. li.) that angels have no bodies by -nature joined to them. Body is not of the _ratio_ of intellectual -substances. These (when perfect and not like the human soul) have no need -to acquire knowledge through sensation. But though angels are intellectual -substances, separate (_separatae_) from bodies, they sometimes assume -bodies. In these they can perform those actions of life which have -something in common with other kinds of acts; as speech, a living act, has -something in common with inanimate sounds. Thus far only can physical acts -be performed by angels, and not when such acts essentially belong to -living bodies. Angels may appear as living men, but are not; neither are -they sentient through the organs of their assumed bodies; they do not eat -and digest food; they move only _per accidens_, incidentally to the -inanimate motion of their assumed bodies; they do not beget, nor do they -really speak; "but it is something like speech, when these bodies make -sounds in the air like human voices." - -Dropping the sole remark, that scholasticism has no sense of humour, we -pass on to Thomas's careful consideration of the angelic relations to -space or locality (Qu. lii. and liii.). "Equivocally only may it be said -that an angel is in a place (_in loco_): through application of the -angelic virtue to some corporeal spot, the angel may be said in some sense -to be there." But, as angels are finite, when one is said, in this sense, -to be in a place, he is not elsewhere too (like God). Yet the place where -the angel is need not be an indivisible point, but may be larger or -smaller, as the angel wills to apply his virtue to a larger or smaller -body. Two angels may not be in the same place at the same time, "because -it is impossible that there should be two complete immediate causes of one -and the same thing." Angels are said, likewise equivocally, to move, in a -sense analogous to that in which they are said to be in a place. Such -equivocal motion may be continuous or not. If not continuous, evidently -the angel may pass from one place to another without traversing the -intervening spaces. The angelic movement must take place in time; there -must be a before and after to it, and yet not necessarily with any period -intervening. - -Now as to angelic knowledge: _De cognitione Angelorum_. Knowing is no easy -thing for man; and we shall see that it is not a simple matter to know, -without the senses to provide the data and help build up knowledge in the -mind. The function of sense, or its absence, conditions much besides the -mere acquisition of the elements from which men form their thoughts. -Thomas's exposition of angelic knowledge and modes of knowing is a logical -and consistent presentation of a supersensual psychology and theory of -knowledge. - -Entering upon his subject, Thomas shows (Qu. liv.) that knowing -(_intelligere_) is not the _substantia_ or the _esse_ of an angel. Knowing -is _actio_, which is the actuality of faculty, as being (_esse_) is the -actuality of substance. God alone is _actus purus_ (absolute realized -actuality), free from potentiality. His _substantia_ is His being and His -action (_suum esse_ and _suum agere_). "But neither in an angel, nor in -any creature, is _virtus_ or the _potentia operativa_ the same as the -creature's _essentia_," or its _esse_ or _substantia_. The difficult -scholastic-Aristotelian categories of _intellectus agens_ and _possibilis_ -do not apply to angelic cognition (for which the reader and the angels may -be thankful). The angels, being immaterial intelligences, have no share in -those faculties of the human soul, like sight or hearing, which are -exercised through bodily organs. They possess only intelligence and will. -"It accords with the order of the universe that the supreme intellectual -creature should be intelligent altogether, and not intelligent in part, -like our souls." - -Quaestio lv., concerning the _medium cognitionis angelicae_, is a -scholastic discussion scarcely to be rendered in modern language. The -angelic intelligence is capable of knowing all things; and therefore an -angel does not know through the medium of his _essentia_ or _substantia_, -which are limited. God alone knows all things through His _essentia_. The -angelic intellect is made perfect for knowing by means of certain forms or -ideas (_species_). These are not received from things, but are part of the -angelic nature (_connaturales_). The angelic intelligence (_potentia -intellectiva_) is completed through general concepts, of the same nature -with itself (_species intelligibiles connaturales_). These come to angels -from God at the same time with their being. Such concepts or ideas cover -everything that they can know by nature (_naturaliter_). And Thomas proves -that the higher angels know through fewer and more universal concepts than -the lower. - - "In God an entire plenitude of intellectual cognition is held _in - one_, to wit, in the divine essence through which God knows all - things. Intelligent creatures possess such cognition in inferior mode - and less simply. What God knows through one, inferior intelligences - know through many; and this many becomes more as the inferiority - increases. Hence the higher angel may know the sum total of the - intelligible (_universitatem intelligibilium_) through fewer ideas or - concepts (_species_); which, however, are more universal since each - concept extends to more [things]. We find illustration of this among - our fellows. Some are incapable of grasping intelligible truth, unless - it be set forth through particular examples. This comes from the - weakness of their intelligence. But others, of stronger mind, can - seize many things from a few statements" (Qu. lv. Art. 3). - -Through this argument, and throughout the rest of his exposition of the -knowledge of God, angel, and man, we perceive that, with Thomas, knowledge -is superior and more delightful, as it is abstract in character, and -universal in applicability. By knowing the abstract and the universal we -become like to God and the angels; knowledge of and through the particular -is but a necessity of our half-material nature. - -Thomas turns now to consider the knowledge had by angels of immaterial -beings, _i.e._ themselves and God (Qu. lvi.): "An angel, being immaterial, -is a subsisting form, and therefore intelligible actually (_actu_, _i.e._ -not potentially). Wherefore, through its form, which is its substance, it -knows itself." Then as to knowledge of each other: God from the beginning -impressed upon the angelic mind the likenesses of things which He created. -For in Him, from the beginning, were the _rationes_ of all things, both -spiritual and corporeal. Through the impression of these _rationes_ upon -the angelic mind, an angel knows other angels as well as corporeal -creatures. Their natures also yield them some knowledge of God. The -angelic nature is a mirror holding the divine similitude. Yet without the -illumination of grace the angelic nature knows not God in His essence, -because no created likeness may represent that. - -As for material things (Qu. lvii.), angels have knowledge of them through -the intelligible species or concepts impressed by God on the angelic mind. -But do they know particulars--_singularia_? To deny it, says Thomas, -would detract from the faith which accords to angels the ministration of -affairs. This matter may be thought thus: - - "Things flow forth from God both as they subsist in their own natures - and as they are in the angelic cognition. Evidently what flowed from - God in things pertained not only to their universal nature, but to - their principles of individuation.... And as He causes, so He also - knows.... Likewise the angel, through the concepts (_species_) planted - in him by God, knows things not only according to their universal - nature, but also according to their singularity, in so far as they are - manifold representations of the one and simple essence." - -One observes that the whole scholastic discussion of universals lies back -of arguments like these. - -The main principles of angelic knowledge have now been set forth; and -Thomas pauses to point out to what extent the angels know the future, the -secret thoughts of our hearts, and the mysteries of grace. He has still to -consider the mode and measure of the angelic knowledge from other points -of view. Whatever the angels may know through their implanted natures, -they know perfectly (_actu_); but it may be otherwise as to what is -divinely revealed to them. What they know, they know without the need of -argument. And the discussion closes with remarks on Augustine's phrase and -conception of the _matutina_ and _vespertina_ knowledge of angels: the -former being the knowledge of things as they are in the Word; the latter -being the knowledge of things as they are in their own natures.[603] - - -V - -That the abstract and the universal is the noble and delectable, we learn -from this exposition of angelic knowledge. We may learn the same from -Thomas's presentation of the modes and contents of human understanding. -The _Summa theologiae_ follows the Scriptural order of presentation;[604] -which is doubtless the reason why Thomas, instead of passing from -immaterial creatures to the partly immaterial creature man, considers -first the creation of physical things--the Scriptural work of the six -days. After this he takes up the last act of the Creation--man. In the -_Summa_ he considers man so far as his composite nature comes within the -scope of theology. Accordingly the principal topic is the human soul -(_anima_); and the body is regarded only in relation to the soul, its -qualities and its fate. Thomas will follow Dionysius (Pseudo-Areopagite) -in considering first the nature (_essentia_) of the soul, then its -faculties (_virtus sive potentiae_), and thirdly, its mode of action -(_operatio_). - -Under the first head he argues (_Pars prima_, Qu. lxxv.) that the soul, -which is the _primum principium_ of life, is not body, but the body's -consummation (_actus_) and _forma_. Further, inasmuch as the soul is the -_principium_ of mental action, it must be an incorporeal principle -existing by itself. It cannot properly be said to be the man; for man is -not soul alone, but a composite of soul and body. But the soul, being -immaterial and intellectual, is not a composite of form and matter. It is -not subject to corruption. Concerning its union with the body (Qu. -lxxvi.), "it is necessary to say that the mind (_intellectus_), which is -the principle of intellectual action, is the _form_ (_forma_) of the human -body." One and the same intellectual principle does not pertain to all -human bodies: there is no common human soul, but as many souls as there -are men.[605] Yet no man has a plurality of souls. "If indeed the _anima -intellectiva_ were not united to the body as form, but only as _motor_ (as -the Platonists affirm), it would be necessary to find in man another -substantial form, through which the body should be set in its being. But -if, as we have shown, the soul is united to the body as substantial form, -there cannot be another substantial form beside it" (Qu. lxxvi. Art. 4). -The human soul is fitly joined to its body; for it holds the lowest grade -among intellectual substances, having no knowledge of truth implanted in -it, as the angels have; it has to gather knowledge _per viam sensus_. "But -nature never omits what is necessary. Hence the _anima intellectiva_ must -have not only the faculty of knowing, but the faculty of feeling -(_sentiendi_). Sense-action can take place only through a corporeal -instrument. Therefore the _anima intellectiva_ ought to be united to such -a body, which should be to it a convenient organ of sense" (Art. 5). -Moreover, "since the soul is united to the body as form, it is altogether -in any and every part of the body" (Art. 8). - -It is a cardinal point (Qu. lxxvii.) with Thomas that the soul's -_essentia_ is not its _potentia_: the soul is not its faculties. That is -true only of God. In Him there is no diversity. There is some diversity of -faculty in an angel; and more in man, a creature on the confines of the -corporeal and spiritual creation, in whom concur the powers of both. There -is order and priority among the powers of the soul: the _potentiae -intellectivae_ are higher than the _potentiae sensitivae_, and control -them; while the latter are above the _potentiae nutritivae_. Yet the order -of their generation is the reverse. The highest of the sensitive faculties -is sight. The _anima_ is the subject in which are the powers of knowing -and willing (_potentiae intellectivae_); but the subject in which are the -powers of sensation is the combination of the soul and body. All the -powers of the soul, whether the subject be soul alone or soul and body, -flow from the essence of the soul, as from a source (_principium_). - -Thomas follows (Qu. lxxviii.) Aristotle in dividing the powers of the soul -into vegetative, sensitive, appetitive, motor, and intellectual. In taking -up the last, he points out (Qu. lxxix.) that intelligence (_intellectus_) -is a power of the soul, and not the soul itself. He then follows the -Philosopher in showing how intelligence (_intelligere_) is to be regarded -as a passive power, and he presents the difficult Aristotelian device of -the _intellectus agens_, and argues that memory and reason are not to be -regarded as powers distinct from the intelligence (_intellectus_). - -How does the soul, while united to the body (the _anima conjuncta_), (1) -know corporeal things which are beneath it? (2) how does it know itself -and what is in itself? and (3) how does it know immaterial substances -which are above it? The exposition of these problems is introduced by (Qu. -lxxxiv.) a historical discussion of the _primi philosophi_ who thought -there was nothing but body in the world. Then came Plato, seeking "to save -some certain cognition of truth" by means of his theory of Ideas. But -Plato seems to have erred in thinking that the form of the known must be -in the knower as it is in the known. This is not necessary. In -sense-perception the form of the thing is not in sense as it is in the -thing. "And likewise the intelligence receives the _species_ (Ideas) of -material and mobile bodies immaterially and immutably, after its own mode; -for the received is in the recipient after the mode of the recipient. -Hence it is to be held that the soul through the intelligence knows bodies -by immaterial, universal, and necessary cognition." - -Thomas sets this matter forth in a manner very illuminating as to his -general position regarding knowledge: - - "It follows that material things which are known must exist in the - knower, not materially, but immaterially. And the reason of this is - that the act of cognition extends itself to those things which are - outside of the knower. For we know things outside of us. But through - matter, the form of the thing is limited to what is single (_aliquid - unum_). Hence it is plain that the _ratio_ (proper nature) of - cognition is the opposite of the _ratio_ of materiality. And therefore - things, like plants, which receive forms only materially, are in no - way _cognoscitivae_, as is said in the second book of _De anima_. The - more immaterially anything possesses the form of the thing known, the - more perfectly it knows. Wherefore the intelligence, which abstracts - the species (Idea) not only from matter, but also from individualizing - material conditions, knows more perfectly than sense, which receives - the form of the thing known without matter indeed, but with material - conditions. Among the senses themselves, sight is the most - _cognoscitivus_, because least material. And among intelligences, that - is the more perfect which is the more immaterial" (Qu. lxxxiv. Art. - 2). - -Then Thomas again differs from Plato, and holds with Aristotle, that the -intelligence through which the soul knows has not its ideas written upon -it by nature, but from the first is capable of receiving them all (sed est -in principio in potentia ad hujusmodi species omnes). Hereupon, and with -further arguments, Thomas shows "that the _species intelligibiles_, by -which our soul knows, do not arise from separate forms" or ideas. - -To the converse question, whether intelligent cognition comes from things -of sense, Thomas answers, following Aristotle: "One cannot say that sense -perception is the whole cause of intellectual cognition, but rather in a -certain way is the matter of the cause (_materia causae_)." On the other -hand, - - "it is impossible that the mind, in the state of the present life, - wherein it is joined to the passive body (_passibili corpori_), should - know anything actually (_actu_) except by turning itself to images - (_phantasmata_). And this appears from two arguments. In the first - place, since the mind itself is a power (_vis_) using no bodily organ, - its action would not be interrupted by an injury to any bodily organ, - if for its action there was not needed the action of some faculty - using a bodily organ. Sense and imagination use a bodily organ. Hence - as to what the mind knows actually (_actu_), there is needed the - action of the imagination and other faculties, both in receiving new - knowledge and in using knowledge already acquired. For we see that - when the action of the imaginative faculty is interrupted by injury to - an organ, as with the delirious, the man is prevented from actually - knowing those things of which he has knowledge. Secondly (as any one - may observe in himself), whenever he attempts to know (_intelligere_) - anything, he forms images by way of example, in which he may - contemplate what he is trying to know. And whenever we wish to make - any one else understand, we suggest examples, from which he may make - for himself images to know by. - - "The reason of this is that the knowing faculty is suited to the - knowable (_potentia cognoscitiva proportionatur cognoscibili_). The - appropriate object of the intelligence of an angel, who is separate - from all body, is intelligible immaterial substance (_substantia - intelligibilis a corpore separata_); through this kind of intelligible - he cognizes also material things. But the appropriate object of the - human mind, which is joined to a body, is the essence or nature - (_quidditas sive natura_) existing in material body; and through the - natures of visible things of this sort it ascends to some cognition of - invisible things. It belongs to the idea (_ratio_) of this nature that - it should exist in some individual having corporeal matter, as it is - of the concept (_ratio_) of the nature of stone or horse that it - should be in _this_ stone or _this_ horse. Hence the nature of a stone - or any material thing cannot be known completely and truly, unless it - is known as existing in some particular [instance]. We apprehend the - particular through sense and imagination; and so it is necessary, in - order that the mind should know its appropriate object, that it should - turn itself to images, in order to behold the universal nature - existing in the particular. If, indeed, the appropriate object of our - intelligence were the separate form, or if the form of sensible - things did not subsist in the particular [instances], as the - Platonists say, our mind in knowing would have no need always to turn - itself to images" (Qu. lxxxiv. Art. 7). - -It is next queried whether the judgment of the mind is impeded through -binding (_per ligamentum_) the senses. In view of the preceding argument -the answer is, that since "all that we know in our present state, becomes -known to us through comparison with sensible things, it is impossible that -there should be in us perfect mental judgment when the senses are tied, -through which we take cognizance of sensible things" (Qu. lxxxiv. Art. 8). - -This entire argument shows in what firm Aristotelian manner, -scholasticism, in the person of Thomas, set itself upon a basis of sense -perception; through which it still pressed to a knowledge of the -supersensible and abstract. In this argument we also see, as always with -Thomas, that knowledge is perfect and blessed, the more immaterial and -abstract are its modes. All of which will continue to impress us as we -follow Thomas, briefly, through his exposition of the _modus_ and _ordo_ -of knowing (_intelligendi_) (Qu. lxxxv.). - -The first question is whether our mind knows corporeal things by -abstracting the species from the images--the type from the particular. -There are three grades of the cognizing faculty (_virtutis -cognoscitivae_). The lowest is sensation, which is the act of a bodily -organ. Its appropriate object is form as existing in matter. And since -matter is the principle of individuation (_i.e._ the particularizing -principle from which results the particular or individual), sense -perception is confined to the particular. The highest grade of the -cognitient faculty is that which is independent of bodily organs and -separate from matter, as the angelic intelligence; and its object is form -subsisting without matter. For though angels know material things, they -view them only in the immaterial, to wit, themselves or God. Between the -two is the human mind, which - - "is the _forma_ of the body. So it naturally knows form existing - individually in corporeal matter, and yet not as form is in such - matter. But to know form, which is in concrete matter, and yet know it - not as it is in such matter, is to abstract it from this particular - matter which the images represent. It follows that our intelligence - knows material things by abstracting them from images; and through - reflecting on these material abstractions we reach some cognition of - the immaterial, just as conversely the angels know the material - through the immaterial" (Qu. lxxxv. Art. 1). - -It is next proved that the soul, through the intelligible species or forms -abstracted from particulars, knows things which are outside the soul. In a -way, intellection arises from sense perception; therefore the sense -perception of the particular precedes the intellectual knowledge of -universals. But, on the other hand, the intelligence, in coming to perfect -cognition, proceeds from the undistinguished to the distinguished, from -the more to the less general, and so knows _animal_ before it knows -_homo_, and _homo_ before it knows Socrates. The next conclusion reads -very neatly in scholastic Latin, but is difficult to paraphrase: it is -that the intelligence may know many things at once (_simul_) _per modum -unius_, but not _per modum multorum_; that is to say, the mind may grasp -at once whatever it may grasp under one species, but cannot know a number -of things at once which fall under different species. - -Next as to what our mind knows in material things (Qu. lxxxvi.). It does -not know the particular or singular (_singularia_) in them directly; for -the principle of singularity in material things is the particular matter. -But our mind _knows_ by abstracting from such the species, that is, the -universal. This it knows directly. But it knows _singularia_ indirectly, -inasmuch as, when it has abstracted the intelligible species, it must -still, in order to know completely (_actu_), turn itself to the images in -which it knows the species. - -How does the _anima intellectiva_ know itself, and those things which are -in it (Qu. lxxxvii.)? Everything is knowable in so far as it is actually -(_in actu_) and not merely potentially. So the human intelligence knows -itself not through its essence, which is still but potential, but in so -far as it has actually realized itself; knows itself, that is, through its -actuality. The permanent qualities (_habitus_) of the soul exist in a -condition between potentiality and actuality. The mind knows them when -they are actually present or operative. - -Does the human intelligence know its own act--know that it knows? In God, -knowing and being are one. Although this is not true of the angelic -intelligence, nevertheless with an angel the prime object of knowledge is -his own essence. With one and the same act an angel knows that it knows, -and knows its essence. But the primal object of the human intelligence is -neither its knowledge (knowing, _intelligere_) nor its essence, but -something extrinsic, to wit, the nature of the material thing. Hence that -is the first object known by the human intelligence; and next is known its -own _actus_, by which that first object is known. Likewise the human -intelligence knows the acts of will. An act of will is nothing but a -certain inclination toward some form of the mind (_formam intellectam_) as -natural appetite is an inclination toward a natural form. The act of will -is in the knowing mind and so is known by it. - -So far as to how the soul knows material things, which are below it, and -its own nature and qualities. It is another question whether the soul -knows those things which are above it, to wit, the immaterial substances. -Can the soul in the state of the present life know the angels in -themselves? With lengthy argument, differing from Plato and adhering to -Aristotle, Thomas proves the negative: that in the present life we cannot -know _substantias separatas immateriales secundum seipsas_. Nor can we -come to a knowledge of the angelic substances through knowing material -things. - - "For immaterial substances are altogether of another nature (_ratio_) - from the whatnesses (_quidditates_) of material things; and however - much our intelligence abstracts from matter the essence (_quidditas_) - of the material thing, it will never arrive at anything like an - immaterial substance. And so, through material substances, we cannot - know immaterial substances perfectly" (Qu. lxxxviii. Art. 2). - -Much less can we thus know God. - -The discussion hitherto has been confined to the intellectual capacities -of souls united to their bodies. As to the knowledge which the "separated" -soul may have, other considerations arise akin to those touching the -knowledge possessed by the separated substances called angels. Is the -separated soul able to know? Thomas has shown that so long as the soul is -joined to the body it cannot know anything except by turning itself to -images. If this were a mere accident of the soul, incidental to its -existence in the body, then with that impediment removed, it would return -to its own nature and know simply. But if, as we suppose, this turning to -images is of the nature of the soul, the difficulty grows. Yet the soul -has one mode of existence when united to the body, and another when -separated, but with its nature remaining. Souls united to bodies may know -through resort to images of bodies, which are in the bodily organs; but -when separated, they may know by turning to that which is intelligible -simply, as other separate substances do. Yet still this raises doubt; for -why did not God appoint a nobler way for the soul to know than that which -is natural to it when joined to the body? The perfection of the universe -required that there should be diverse grades among intellectual -substances. The soul is the lowest of them. Its feeble intelligence was -not fit to receive perfect knowledge through universal conceptions, save -when assisted by concrete examples. Without these, souls would have had -but a confused knowledge. Hence, for their more perfect knowledge of -things, they are naturally united to bodies, and so receive a knowledge -from things of sense proper to their condition; just as rude men can be -led to know only through examples. So it was for a higher end that the -soul was united to the body, and knows through resort to images; yet, when -separated, it will be capable of another way of knowing.[606] - -Separated from the body, the soul can know itself through itself. It can -know other separated souls perfectly, but the angels, who are higher -natures, only imperfectly, at least through the knowledge which the -separated soul has from its nature; but that may be increased through -grace and glory. The separated soul will know natural objects through the -species (ideas) received from the inflowing divine light; yet less -perfectly than the angels. Likewise, less universally than angels, will -separated souls, by like means of species received from the divine light, -know particular things, and only such as they previously knew, or may know -through some affection or aptitude or the divine decree. For the habit and -aptitude of knowledge, and the knowledge already acquired, will remain in -the separated soul, so far as relates to the knowledge which is in the -intellect, and no longer in the lower perceptive faculties. Neither will -distance from the object affect the soul's knowledge, since it will know -through the influx of forms (_species_) from the divine light. - - "Yet through the cognition belonging to their nature, separated souls - do not know what is doing here below. For such souls know the - particular and concrete (_singularia_) only as from the traces - (_vestigia_) of previous cognition or affection, or by divine - appointment. And the souls of the dead by divine decree, and in - accordance with their mode of existence, are separated from the - intercourse of the living and joined to the society of spiritual - substances. Therefore they are ignorant of those things which are done - among us." - -Nevertheless, it would seem, according to the opinions of Augustine and -Gregory, "that the souls of the saints who see God know all that is done -here. Yet, perfectly joined to the divine righteousness, they are not -grieved, nor do they take part in the affairs of the living, save as the -divine disposition requires." - - "Still the souls of the dead are able to care for the affairs of the - living, although ignorant of their condition; just as we have care for - the dead, though ignorant of their state, by invoking the suffrages of - the Church. And the souls of the dead may be informed of the affairs - of the living from souls lately departed hence, or through angels or - demons, or by the revealing spirit of God. But if the dead appear to - the living, it is by God's special dispensation, and to be reckoned as - a divine miracle" (Qu. lxxxix. Art. 8). - - -VI - -We have thus traced Thomas's view of the faculty of knowledge, the primary -constituent of beatitude in God, and in angels and men. There are other -elements which not only supplement the faculty of knowledge, but even flow -as of necessity from a full and true conception of that faculty and its -perfect energizing. These needful, yet supplementary, factors are the -faculties of will and love and natural appetite; though the last does not -exist in God or angel or in "separated soul." The composite creature man -shares it with brutes: it is of enormous importance, since it may affect -his spiritual progress in this life, and so determine his state after -death. Let us observe these qualities in God, in the immaterial substances -called angels, and in man. - -In God there is volition as well as intelligence; for _voluntas -intellectum consequitur_; and as God's _being_ (_esse_) is His knowing -(_intelligere_), so likewise His being is His will (_velle_).[607] -Essentially alike in God and man and angel are the constituents of -spiritual beatitude and existence--knowing, willing, loving. From Creator -down to man, knowledge differs in mode and in degree, yet is essentially -the same. The like is true of will. As to love, because passion is of the -body, love and every mode of turning from or to an object is passionless -in God and the angels. Yet man through love, as well as through willing -and through knowing, may prove his kinship with angels and with God. - -God is love, says John's Epistle. "It is necessary to place love in God," -says Thomas. "For the first movement of will and any appetitive faculty -(_appetitivae virtutis_) is love (_amor_)." It is objected that love is a -passion; and the passionless God cannot love. Answers Thomas, "Love and -joy and delight are passions in so far as they signify acts (or -actualities, _actus_) of the _appetitus sensitivi_; but they are not -passions when they signify the _actus_ of the _appetitus intellectivi_; -and thus are they placed in God" (_Pars prima_, Qu. xx. Art. 1). - -God loves all existences. Now all existences, in so far as they are, are -good. For being itself (_esse_) is in a sense the _good_ of any thing, and -likewise its perfection. It has been shown that God's will is the cause of -all things; and thus it is proper that a thing should have being, or good, -in so far as it is willed by God. God wills some good to every existent -thing. And since to love is nothing else than to will good to something, -it is evident that God loves all things that are, yet not in the way we -love. For since our will is not the cause of the goodness of things, but -is moved by it as by an object, our love by which we will good to anything -is not the cause of its goodness; but its goodness calls forth the love by -which we wish to preserve and add to the good it has; and for this we -work. But God's love imparts and creates goodness in things. - -The divine love embraces all things in one and the same act of will; but -inasmuch as His love creates goodness, there could be no greater goodness -in one thing than in another unless He willed greater good to one than to -the other: in this sense He may be said to love one creature more than -another; and in this way He loves the better things more. Besides love, -the order of the universe proves God's _justitia_; an attribute which is -to be ascribed to Him, as Dionysius says, in that He grants to all things -what is appropriate, according to the dignity of the existence of each, -and preserves the nature of each in its own order and virtue. Likewise -_misericordia_ is to be ascribed to God, not as if He were affected by -pitying sadness, but in that He remedies the misery or defects of others. - -Thus far as to will and love in God. Next, as to these qualities in -Angels. Have angels will? (_Pars prima_, Qu. lix.). Thomas argues: All -things proceed from the divine will, and all _per appetitum_ incline -toward good. In plants this is called natural appetite. Next above them -come those creatures who perceive the particular good as of the senses; -their inclination toward it is _appetitus sensitivus_. Still above them -are such as know the _ratio_ of the good universally, through their -intelligence. Such are the angels; and in them inclination toward the good -is will. Moreover, since they know the nature of the good, they are able -to form a judgment as to it; and so they have free will: _ubicumque est -intellectus, est liberum arbitrium_. And as their knowledge is above that -of men, so in them free will exists more excellently. - -The angels have only the _appetitus intellectivus_ which is will; they are -not irascible or concupiscent, since these belong to the _appetitus -sensitivus_. Only metaphorically can _furor_ and evil concupiscence be -ascribed to demons, as anger is to God--_propter similitudinem effectus_. -Consequently _amor_ and _gaudium_ do not exist as passions in angels. But -in so far as these qualities signify solely an act of will, they are -intellectual. In this sense, to love is to will good to anything, and to -rejoice (_gaudere_) is to rest the will in a good obtained. Similarly, -_caritas_ and _spes_, in so far as they are virtues, lie not in appetite, -but in will; and thus exist in angels. With man the virtues of temperance -and fortitude may relate to things of sense; but not so with angels, who -have no passions to be bridled by these virtues. Temperance is ascribed to -them when they temper their will according to the will divine, and -fortitude, when they firmly execute it (Qu. lix. Art. 4). - -In a subsequent portion of _Pars prima_ (Qu. cx.) Thomas has occasion to -point out that, as in human affairs, the more particular power is governed -by the more universal, so among the angels. - - "The higher angels who preside over the lower have more universal - knowledge. It is likewise clear that the _virtus_ of a body is more - particular than the _virtus_ of a spiritual substance; for every - corporeal form is form particularized (_individuata_) through matter, - and limited to the here and now. But immaterial forms are - unconditioned and intelligible. And as the lower angels, who have - forms less universal, are ruled by the higher angels, so all corporeal - things are ruled by angels. And this is maintained not only by the - holy Doctors, but by all philosophers who have recognized incorporeal - substances." - -Next Thomas considers the action of angels upon men, and shows that men -may have their minds illumined by the lower orders of angels, who present -to men _intelligibilem veritatem sub similitudinibus sensibilium_. God -sends the angels to minister to corporeal creatures; in which mission -their acts proceed from God as a cause (_principio_). They are His -instruments. They are sent as custodians of men, to guide and move them to -good. "To every man an angel is appointed for his guard: of which the -reason is, that the guardianship (_custodia_) of the angels is an -execution of divine providence in regard to men." Every man, while as -_viator_ he walks life's _via non tuta_, has his guardian angel. And the -archangels have care of multitudes of men (Qu. cxiii.). - -Thus Thomas's, or rather, say the Christian doctrine as to angels, becomes -a corollary necessary to Christian theism, and true at least symbolically. -But--and this is the last point as to these ministering spirits--do the -angels who love without passion, grieve and suffer when those over whom -they minister are lost? - - "Angels grieve neither over the sins nor the punishment of men. For, - as says Augustine, sadness and grief arise only from what contravenes - the will. But nothing happens in the world that is contrary to the - will of the angels and other blessed ones. For their will is entirely - fixed (_totaliter inhaeret_) in the order of the divine righteousness - (_Justitiae_); and nothing takes place in the world, save what takes - place and is permitted by the same. And so, in brief, nothing takes - place in the world contrary to the will of the blessed" (Qu. cxiii. - Art. 7). - -We come to man. He has will, and free will or choice, as the angels have. -Will is part of the intellectual nature: it is as the _intellectivus -appetitus_. But man differs from the angels in possessing appetites which -belong to his sense-nature and do not perceive the good in its common -aspects; because sense does not apprehend the universal, but only the -particular.[608] Sometimes Thomas speaks of _amor_ as including every form -of desire, intellectual or pertaining to the world of sense. "The first -movement of will and of any appetitive faculty (_virtus_) is amor."[609] -So in this most general signification _amor_ "is something belonging to -appetite; for the object of both is the good." - - "The first effect of the desirable (_appetibilis_) upon the - _appetitus_, is called _amor_; thence follows _desiderium_, or the - movement toward the desirable; and at last the _quies_ which is - _gaudium_. Since then _amor_ consists in an effect upon the - _appetitus_, it is evidently _passio_; most properly speaking when it - relates to the yearning element (_concupiscibile_), but less properly - when it relates to will" (_Pars prima_, Qu. xxvi. Art. 2). - -Further distinguishing definitions are now in order: - - "Four names are applied to what pertains to the same: _amor_, - _dilectio_, _caritas_, _et amicitia_. Of the three first, _amor_ has - the broadest meaning. For all _dilectio_ or _caritas_ is _amor_; but - not conversely. _Dilectio_ adds to _amor_ a precedent choice - (_electionem praecedentem_) as its name indicates. Hence _dilectio_ is - not in the concupiscent nature, but in the will, and therefore in the - rational nature. _Caritas_ adds to _amor_ a certain _perfectionem - amoris_, inasmuch as what is loved, is esteemed as very precious, as - the name shows" (_Ibid._ Art. 3). - -Moreover, _amor_ may be divided into _amor amicitiae_, whereby we wish -good to the _amicus_, and _amor concupiscentiae_, whereby properly we -desire a good to ourselves. - -The Good is the object and, in that sense, the cause, of _amor_ (Qu. -xxvii.). - - "But love requires a cognition of the good which is loved. Therefore - the Philosopher says, that bodily sight is the cause of _amoris - sensitivi_. Likewise contemplation of spiritual beauty or goodness is - the cause of _amoris spiritualis_. Thus, therefore, cognition is the - cause of love, inasmuch as the good cannot be loved unless known." - -From this broad conception of _amor_ the argument rises to _amor_ in its -purest phases, which correspond to the highest modes of knowledge man is -capable of. They are considered in their nature, in their causes, and -effects. It is evident whither we are travelling in this matter. - - "Love (_amor_) may be perfect or imperfect. Perfect love is that by - which some one is loved for himself, as a man loves a friend. - Imperfect love is that by which some one loves a thing, not for - itself, but in order that that good may come to him, as a man loves - the thing he desires. The first love pertains to _caritas_ which - cleaves to God (_inhaeret Deo_) for Himself (_secundum - seipsum_)."[610] - -_Caritas_ is one of the theological virtues, and as such Thomas treats it. -To it corresponds the "gift" of _sapientia_, likewise a virtue bestowed by -God, but more particularly regarded as the "gift" of the Holy Spirit. -_Caritas_ is set not in the _appetitus sensitivus_, but in the will. Yet -as it exceeds our natural faculties, "it is not in us by nature, nor -acquired through our natural powers; but through the infusion of the Holy -Spirit, who is the _amor Patris et Filii_." He infuses _caritas_ according -to His will; and it will increase as we draw near to God; nor is there any -bound to its augmentation. May _caritas_ be perfect in this life? In one -sense it never can be perfect, because no creature ever can love God -according to His infinite lovableness. - - "But on the part of him who wills to love (_ex parte diligentis_), - _caritas_ is perfect when he loves as much as he is able. Which may be - taken in three ways. In one way, as the whole heart of man is always - borne toward God; and this is the perfection of the love of home - (_caritas patriae_), unattainable here, where because of this life's - infirmities it is impossible always actually to think upon God, and be - drawn toward Him by voluntary love (_dilectione_). In another way, as - a man may strive to keep himself free for God and things divine, - laying other matters aside, save as life's need requires: and that is - the perfection of _caritas_, possible in this life, yet not for all - who have _caritas_. And the third way, when any one habitually sets - his heart on God, so that he thinks and wills nothing that is contrary - to the divine love: this perfection is common to all who have - _caritas_."[611] - -The _caritas_ with which we love God, extends to our neighbours, and even -to our enemies, for God's sake; also to ourselves, including our bodies; -it embraces sinners, but not their sinfulness. It embraces the angels. -There is order and grade in _caritas_, according to its relationship to -God, the source of beatitude and voluntary love (_dilectionis_). God is to -be loved _ex caritate_ above all; for He is loved as the cause of -beatitude, while our neighbour is loved as a participant with us in the -beatitude from God. We should love God more than ourselves; because -beatitude is in God as in the common and fontal source of all things that -participate in beatitude. - - "But, after God, man should love himself, in so far as he is spirit - (_secundum naturam spiritualem_), more than any one else. This is - plain from the very reason of loving. God is loved as the principle of - good, on which the _dilectio caritatis_ is based. Man loves himself - _ex caritate_ for the reason that he is a participator in that good. - He loves his neighbour because of his association (_societas_) in that - good.... Participation in the divine good is a stronger reason for - loving, than association in this participation. Therefore, man _ex - caritate_ should love himself more than his neighbour; and the mark - (_signum_) of this is, that man should not commit any sin barring his - participation in this beatitude, in order to free his neighbour from - sin.... But one should love his neighbour's salvation more than his - own _body_."[612] - -We may love some of our neighbours more than others; for those bound to us -by natural ties and proximity can be loved more and in more actual ways. -The order and grades of love will endure when our natures are perfected in -glory. - -Love (_caritas_) is the supreme theological virtue. It comes to us in this -life through grace; it can be perfected only when grace is consummated in -glory. Likewise the highest knowledge possible in this life comes through -grace, to be perfected in glory. All is from God, and that which, of all -the rest, seems most freely given is the divine influence disposing the -intelligence and will toward good, and illuminating these best God-given -faculties. This, as _par excellence_, through the exceeding bounty of its -free bestowal, is called _gratia_ (grace). It is a certain habitual -disposition of the soul; it is not the same as _virtus_, but a divinely -implanted disposition, in which the virtues must be rooted; it is the -imparted similitude of the divine nature, and perfects the nature of the -soul, so far as that has part in likeness to the divine: it is the medial -state between nature and that further consummation of the grace-illumined -nature, which is glory; and so it is the beginning, the _inchoatio_, of -our glorified beatitude. Clearly, grace is no part of our inborn nature, -and does not belong to our natural faculties. It is a divinely bestowed -increment, directing our natural faculties toward God and uplifting them -to higher capacities of knowing and loving. - -To follow Thomas's exposition of grace a little more closely:[613] man, -through his natural powers, may know truth, but not the highest; and -without grace, our fallen nature cannot will all the good belonging to it -(_connaturale_), nor love God above all else, nor merit eternal life. -"Grace is something supernatural in man coming from God." It - - "is not the same as virtue; and its subject (_i.e._ its possessor, - that in which it is set) cannot be a faculty (_potentia_) of the soul; - for the soul's faculties, as perfected, are conceived to be virtues. - Grace, which is prior to virtue, is set, not in the faculties, but in - the essence of the soul. Thus, as through his faculty of knowing - (_potentiam intellectivam_), man shares the divine knowledge by the - virtue of faith, and through the faculty of will shares the divine - love by the virtue of _caritas_, so by means of a certain similitude - he shares in the divine nature through some regeneration or - recreation" (_Pars_ I. ii., Qu. cx. Art. 4). - -Grace may be conceived either as "divine aid, moving us to willing and -doing right, or as a formative and abiding (_habituale_) gift, divinely -placed in us" (Qu. cxi. Art. 2). "The gift of grace exceeds the power of -any created nature; and is nothing else than a sharing (_participatio_) of -the divine nature" (Qu. cxii. Art. 1). - -So it is clear that without grace man cannot rise to the highest knowledge -and the purest love of which he is capable in this life; far less can he -reach that final and perfected blessedness which is expected hereafter. -For this he must possess the virtue of Faith, which comes not without -grace. - - "The perfection of the rational creature consists not only in that - which may be his, in accordance with his nature; but also in that - which may come to him from some supernatural sharing in the divine - goodness. The final beatitude of man consists in some supernatural - vision of God. Man can attain to that only through some mode of - learning from God the Teacher, and he must believe God as a disciple - believes his master" (_Pars_ II. ii., Qu. ii. Art. 3). - -Within the province of the Christian Faith "it is necessary that man -should accept _per modum fidei_ not only what is above reason, but also -what may be known through reason." (Art. 4). He must believe explicitly -the _prima credibilia_, that is to say, the Articles of Faith; it is -enough if he believes other _credibilia_ implicitly, by holding his mind -prepared to accept whatever Scripture teaches (Art. 5). - - "To believe is an act of the intellect (_actus intellectus_) as moved - by will to assenting. It proceeds from the will and from the - intellect.... Yet it is the immediate act of the intellect, and - therefore faith is in the intellect as in a subject [_i.e._ - possessor]" (Qu. iv. Art. 2). - -And Thomas, having shown the function of will in any act of faith, passes -on by the same path to connect _fides_ with _caritas_: - - "Voluntary acts take their _species_ from the end which is the object - of volition. That from which anything receives its species, occupies - the place held by _form_ in material things. Hence, as it were, the - _form_ of any voluntary act is the end to which it is directed - (_ordinatur_). Manifestly, an act of faith is directed to the object - willed (which is the good) as to an end. But good which is the end of - faith, to wit, the divine good, is the proper object of _caritas_. And - so _caritas_ is called the _form_ of faith, in so far as through - _caritas_ the act of faith is perfected and given form" (Qu. iv. Art. - 3). - -Thomas makes his conclusion more precise: - - "As faith is the consummation of the intellect, that which pertains to - the intellect, pertains, _per se_, to faith. What pertains to will, - does not, _per se_, pertain to faith. The increment making the - difference between the faith which has form and faith which lacks it - (_fides formata_, _fides informis_), consists in that which pertains - to will, to wit, to _caritas_, and not in what pertains to intellect" - (Qu. iv. Art. 4). - -Only the _fides_ which is formed and completed in _caritas_ is a virtue -(Art. 5). And Thomas says concisely (Qu. vi. Art. 1) what in many ways has -been made evident before: For Faith, it is necessary that the _credibilia_ -should be propounded, and then that there should be assent to them; but -since man, in assenting to those things which are of the Faith, is lifted -above his nature, his assent must proceed from a supernatural principle -working within him, which is God moving him through grace. - -It is not hard to see why two gifts (_dona_) of the Holy Spirit should -belong to the virtue Faith, to wit, understanding and knowledge, -_intellectus et scientia_. Thomas gives the reasons in an argument germane -to his Aristotelian theory of cognition: - - "The object of the knowing faculty is _that which is_.... Many kinds - of things lie hidden within, to which the _intellectus_ of man should - penetrate. Beneath the _accidens_ the substantial nature of the thing - lies hidden; beneath words lie their meanings; beneath similes and - figures, lies the figured truth--_veritas figurata_ (for things - intelligible are, as it were, within things sensible); and in causes - lie hidden the effects, and conversely. Now, since human cognition - begins with sense, as from without, it is clear that the stronger the - light of the intellect, the further it will penetrate to the inmost - depths. But the light of our natural intellect is of finite virtue, - and may reach only to what is limited. Therefore man needs the - supernatural light, in order to penetrate to the knowledge which - through the natural light he is not able to know; and that - supernatural light given to man is called the _donum intellectus_" - (Qu. viii. Art. 1). - -This gift follows grace. Grace is more perfect than nature. It does not -abrogate, but perfects the natural faculties. Nor does it fail in those -matters in which man's natural power is competent (Qu. ix. Art. 1). So, -besides the _donum intellectus_, to Faith belongs the _donum scientiae_ -also, which brings and guides knowledge of human things (Art. 2). - -And now we shall not be surprised to find _sapientia_, the very highest -gift of the Spirit, attached to the grace-given virtue caritas. For -_caritas_ is the informing principle of Faith, and the highest virtue of -the grace-illumined will. The will, be it remembered, belongs to man's -intellectual nature; its object is the good which is known by the mind -(_bonum intellectum_). "_Sapientia_ (wisdom, right knowledge as to the -highest cause, which is God) signifies rectitude of judgment in accordance -with the _rationes divinae_," the ideas and reasons which exist in God. -Rectitude of judgment regarding things divine may arise from rational -inquiry; in which case it pertains to the _sapientia_ which is an -intellectual virtue. But it may also spring from affinity to those things -themselves; and then it is a gift of the Holy Spirit (II. ii., Qu. xlv. -Art. 2). - -Says Thomas: - - "By the name _beatitude_ is understood the final perfection of the - rational or intellectual nature. This consists for this life in such - contemplation as we may have here of the highest intelligible good, - which is God; but above this felicity is that other felicity which we - expect when we shall see God as He is" (_Pars_ I., Qu. lxii Art 1). - -But mark: the perfection of the intellectual nature does not consist -merely in knowing, narrowly taken. The right action of will is also -essential, of the will directed toward the highest good, which is God: and -this is _caritas_, of which the corresponding gift from the Spirit is -wisdom. In accord with this full consummation of human nature, comprising -the perfection of cognition and will, Thomas outlines his conception of -the _vita contemplativa_, the life of most perfect beatitude attainable on -earth: - - "The _vita contemplativa_ is theirs whose resolve is set upon the - contemplation of truth. Resolve is an act of will; because resolve is - with respect to the end, which is the object of will. Thus the _vita - contemplativa_, according to the essence of its action, is of the - intelligence; but so far as it pertains to what moves us to engage in - such action, it is of the will, which moves all the other faculties, - including the intelligence, to act. Appetitive energy (_vis - appetitiva_) moves toward contemplating something, either sensibly or - intellectually: sometimes from love of the thing seen, and sometimes - from love of the knowledge itself, which arises from contemplation. - And because of this, Gregory sets the _vita contemplativa_ in the love - of God--_in caritate Dei_--to wit, inasmuch as some one, from a - willing love (_dilectio_) of God burns to behold His beauty. And - because any one is rejoiced when he attains what he loves, the _vita - contemplativa_ is directed toward _dilectio_[614] which lies in affect - (_in affectu_); by which _amor_ also is intended" (II. ii., Qu. clxxx. - Art. 1). - -The moral virtues, continues Thomas, do not pertain _essentially_ to this -_vita_. But they may promote it, by regulating the passions and quieting -the tumult of outside affairs. In principle it is fixed upon the -contemplation of truth, which here we see but in a glass darkly; and so we -help ourselves along by contemplating the effects of the divine cause in -the world. - -Thus final beatitude, and its mortal approach in the _vita contemplativa_ -of this earth, is of the mind, both in its knowledge and its love. -Immateriality, spirituality, is with Thomas primarily intellectual. Yet -his beatitude is not limited to the knowing faculties. It embraces will -and love. The grace of God and the gifts of the Holy Spirit touch love as -well as knowledge, raising one and both to final unison of aim. Thus far -in this life, while in the life to come, these grace-uplifted qualities of -knowledge, and that choosing love (_dilectio_) which rises from knowledge -of the good, are perfected _in gloria_. - -Further than this we shall not go with Thomas, nor follow him, for -example, through his exposition of the means of salvation--the Incarnation -and the sacraments. Nor need we further mark the prodigious range of his -theology, or his metaphysics, logic, or physics. To all this many books -have been devoted. We are but seeking to realise his intellectual -interests and qualities, in such way as to bring them within the compass -of our sympathy. A more encyclopaedic and systematic presentation of his -teaching is proper for those who would trace, or perhaps attach themselves -to, particular doctrines; or would find in scholasticism, even in Thomas, -some special authoritativeness. For us these doctrines have but the -validity of all human striving after truth. Moreover, perhaps a truer view -of Thomas, the theologian and philosopher, is gained from following a few -typical forms of his teaching presented in his own exposition, than by -analyzing his thought with later solvents which he did not apply, and -presenting his matter classified as he would not have ordered it, and in -modern phrases, which have as many meanings foreign to scholasticism as -scholasticism has thoughts not to be translated into modern ways of -thinking. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI - -ROGER BACON - - -Of all mediaeval men, Thomas Aquinas achieved the most organic and -comprehensive union of the results of human reasoning and the data of -Christian theology. He may be regarded as the final exponent of -scholasticism, perfected in method, universal in scope, and still integral -in purpose. The scholastic method was soon to be impugned and the -scholastic universality broken. The premature attack upon the method came -from Roger Bacon;[615] the fatal breach in the scholastic wholeness -resulted from the constructive, as well as critical, achievements of Duns -Scotus and Occam. - -Bacon is a perplexing personality. With other mediaeval thinkers one -quickly feels the point of view from which to regard them. Not so with -this most disparate genius of the Middle Ages. Reading his rugged -statements, and trying to form a coherent thought of him, we are puzzled -at the contradictions of his mind. One may not say that he was not of his -time. Every man is of his time, and cannot raise himself very far out of -the mass of knowledge and opinion furnished by it, any more than a swimmer -can lift himself out of the water that sustains him. Yet personal temper -and inclination may aline a man with less potent tendencies, which are -obscured and hampered by the dominant intellectual interests of the -period. Assuredly, through all the Middle Ages, there were men who noticed -such physical phenomena as bore upon their lives, even men who cared for -the dumb beginnings of what eventually might lead to natural science. But -they were not representative of their epoch's master energies; and in the -Middle Ages, as always, the man of evident and great achievement will be -one who, like Aquinas, stands upon the whole attainment of his age. Roger -Bacon, on the contrary, was as one about whose loins the currents of his -time drag and pull; they did not aid him, and yet he could not extricate -himself. It was his intellectual misfortune that he was held by his time -so fatally, so fatally, at least, for the proper doing of the work which -was to be his contribution to human enlightenment, a contribution well -ignored while he lived, and for long afterward. - -Bacon accepted the dominant mediaeval convictions: the entire truth of -Scripture; the absolute validity of the revealed religion, with its -dogmatic formulation; also (to his detriment) the universally prevailing -view that the end of all the sciences is to serve their queen, theology. -Yet he hated the ways of mediaeval natural selection and survival of the -mediaeval fittest, and the methods by which Albert or Thomas or Vincent of -Beauvais were at last presenting the sum of mediaeval knowledge and -conviction. Well might he detest those ways and methods, seeing that he -was Roger Bacon, one impelled by his genius to critical study, to -observation and experiment. He was impassioned for linguistics, for -mathematics, for astronomy, optics, chemistry, and for an experimental -science which should confirm the contents of all these, and also enlarge -the scope of human ingenuity. Yet he was held fast, and his thinking was -confused, by what he took from his time. Especially he was obsessed by the -idea that philosophy, including every branch of knowledge, must serve -theology, and even in that service find its justification. But what has -chemistry to do with theology? What has mathematics? And what has the -physical experimental method? By maintaining the utility of these for -theology, Bacon saved his mediaeval orthodoxy, and it may be, his skin -from the fire. But it wrecked the working of his genius. His writings -remain, such of them as are known, astounding in their originality and -insight, and almost as remarkable for their inconsistencies; they are -marked by a confusion of method and a distortion of purpose, which sprang -from the contradictions between Bacon's genius and the current views which -he adopted. - -The career of Bacon was an intellectual tragedy, conforming to the old -principles of tragic art: that the hero's character shall be large and -noble, but not flawless, inasmuch as the fatal consummation must issue -from character, and not happen through chance. He died an old man, as in -his youth, so in his age, a devotee of tangible knowledge. His pursuit of -a knowledge which was not altogether learning had been obstructed by the -Order of which he was an unhappy and rebellious member; quite as fatally -his achievement was deformed from within by the principles which he -accepted from his time. But he was responsible for his acceptance of -current opinions; and as his views roused the distrust of his brother -Friars, his intractable temper drew their hostility (of which we know very -little) on his head. Persuasiveness and tact were needed by one who would -impress such novel views as his upon his fellows, or, in the thirteenth -century, escape persecution for their divulgence. Bacon attacked dead and -living worthies, tactlessly, fatuously, and unfairly. Of his life scarcely -anything is known, save from his allusions to himself and others; and -these are insufficient for the construction of even a slight consecutive -narrative. Born; studied at Oxford; went to Paris, studied, experimented; -is at Oxford again, and a Franciscan; studies, teaches, becomes suspect to -his Order, is sent back to Paris, kept under surveillance, receives a -letter from the pope, writes, writes, writes,--his three best-known works; -is again in trouble, confined for many years, released, and dead, so very -dead, body and fame alike, until partly unearthed after five centuries. - -Inference and construction may fill out this sombre outline. England was -the land of Bacon's birth, and Ilchester is said to have been the natal -spot. The approximate date may be guessed at from his reference to himself -as _senex_ in 1267, and his remark that he had then been studying forty -years. His family seems to have been wealthy. Besides the letter of Pope -Clement, hereafter to be quoted, there is one contemporary reference to -him. Mathew Paris has a story of a certain _clericus de curia, scilicet -Rogerus Bacum_, speaking up with bold wit to King Henry III. at Oxford in -1233. Bacon when a young man studied there under Robert Grosseteste and -Adam of Marsh. He frequently refers to both, and always with respect. His -chief enthusiasm is for the former. For years this admirable man was -chancellor of Oxford; until made bishop of Lincoln in 1235. Although never -a Franciscan, he was the Order's devoted friend, and lectured in its house -at Oxford. Grosseteste founded the study of Greek at Oxford, and collected -treatises upon Greek grammar. Bacon, following him, wrote a Greek grammar. -Grosseteste, before Bacon, devoted himself to physics and mathematics, and -all that these many-branched sciences might include. Besides a taste for -these studies Bacon may have had from him the idea that they were useful -for theology. "No one," says Bacon, "knew the sciences save Lord Robert, -Bishop of Lincoln, from his length of life and experience, and -studiousness and industry, and because he knew mathematics and optics, and -was able to know all things; and he knew enough of the languages to -understand the saints and philosophers of antiquity; but not enough to -translate them, unless towards the end of his life when he invited Greeks, -and had books of Greek grammar gathered from Greece and elsewhere."[616] -There is evidence that others at Oxford, besides Grosseteste, were -interested in the study of Greek and natural science. - -From Oxford Bacon went to Paris, where apparently he remained for a number -of years; he was made a doctor there, and afterwards became a Franciscan. -Since a monk could own nothing, one may perhaps infer that Bacon did not -join the Order until after the lapse of certain twenty years of scientific -research, in which he spent much money, as he says in 1267, in an -often-quoted passage of the _Opus tertium_: - - "For now I have laboured from my youth in the sciences and languages, - and for the furtherance of study, getting together much that is - useful. I sought the friendship of all wise men among the Latins, and - caused youth to be instructed in languages, and geometric figures, in - numbers and tables and instruments, and many needful matters. I - examined everything useful to the purpose, and I know how to proceed, - and with what means, and what are the impediments: but I cannot go on - for lack of the funds which are needed. Through the twenty years in - which I laboured specially in the study of wisdom, careless of the - crowd's opinion, I spent more than two thousand pounds in these - pursuits on occult books (_libros secretos_) and various experiments, - and languages and instruments, and tables and other things."[617] - -After his first stay at Paris Bacon returned to Oxford. There he doubtless -continued his researches, and divulged them, or taught in some way. For he -roused the suspicions of his Order, and in the course of time was sent or -conducted back to Paris, where constraint seems to have been put upon his -actions and utterances. Like the first, this second, possibly enforced, -stay was a long one; he speaks of himself in the first chapter of the -_Opus tertium_ as "for ten years an exile." Yet here as always, one is not -quite certain how literally to take Bacon's personal statements, either -touching himself or others. - -A short period of elation was at hand. He had evidently been forbidden to -write, or spread his ideas; he had been disciplined at times with a diet -of bread and water. All this had failed to sweeten his temper, or conform -his mind to current views. In 1265, an open-minded man who had been a -jurist, a warrior, and the counsellor of a king, before becoming an -ecclesiastic, was made Pope Clement IV. While living in Paris he had been -interested in Bacon's work. Soon after the papal election our -sore-bestead philosopher managed to communicate with him, as appears by -the pope's reply, written from Viterbo, in July 1266: - - "To our beloved son, Brother Roger, called Bacon, of the Order of - Brothers Minorites. We have received with pleasure the letter of thy - devotion; and we have well considered what our beloved son called - Bonecor, Knight, has by word of mouth set forth to us, with fidelity - and prudence. So then, that we may understand more clearly what thou - purposest, it is our will, and we command thee by our Apostolic - mandate that, notwithstanding the prohibition of any prelate, or any - constitution of thy Order, thou sendest to us speedily in good script - that work which, while we held a minor office, we requested thee to - communicate to our beloved son Raymond, of Laudunum. Also, we command - thee to set forth in a letter what remedies thou deemest should be - applied to those matters which thou didst recently speak of as fraught - with such peril. Do this as secretly as possible without delay."[618] - -Poor Bacon! The pope's letter roused him to ecstasy, then put him in a -quandary, and elicited elaborate apologies, and the flood of persuasive -exposition which he poured forth with tremulous haste in the eighteen -months following. Delight at being solicited by the head of Christendom -breaks out in hyperbole, not to be wondered at: he is uplifted and cast -prone; that his littleness and multiple ignorance, his tongue-tied mouth -and rasping pen, and himself unlistened to by all men, a buried man -delivered to oblivion, should be called on by the pope's wisdom for -wisdom's writings (_sapientales scripturas_)! - - "The Saviour's vicar, the ruler of the orb, has deigned to solicit me, - who am scarcely to be numbered among the particles of the - world--_inter partes universae_! Yet, while my weakness is oppressed - with the glory of this mandate, I am raised above my own powers; I - feel a fervour of spirit; I rise up in strength. And indeed I ought to - overflow with gratitude since your beatitude commands what I have - desired, what I have worked out with sweat, and gleaned through great - expenditures."[619] - -The word "expenditures" touches one horn of Bacon's dilemma. He is a -Franciscan; therefore penniless; and, besides that, apparently under the -restraining ban of his own Order. The pope has enjoined secrecy; therefore -Bacon cannot set up the papal mandate against the probable interference of -his own superiors. The pope has sent no funds; sitting _in culmine mundi_ -he was too busy with high affairs to think of that.[620] And now comes the -chief matter for Bacon's apologies: his Beatitude misapprehends, has been -misinformed: the work is not yet written; it is still to be composed. - -In spite of these obstacles the friendless but resourceful philosopher -somehow obtained opportunity to write, and the means needed for the fair -copy. And then in those great eighteen, or perhaps but fifteen, months, -what a flood of enlightenment, of reforming criticism, of plans of study -and methods of investigation, of examples and sketches of the matter to be -prepared or discovered, is poured forth. Four works we know of,[621] and -they may have made the greater part of all that Bacon ever actually wrote. -With variations of emphasis, of abridgement and elaboration, the four have -the one purpose to convince the pope of the enormous value of Bacon's -scheme of useful and saving knowledge. To a great extent they set forth -the same matters; indeed the _Opus tertium_ was intended to convey the -substance of the _Opus majus_, should that fail to reach the pope. So -there is much repetition and some disorder in these eager, hurried works, -defects which emphasise the dramatic situation of the impetuous genius -whose pent-up utterance was loosed at last. The _Opus minus_ and the -_Vatican Fragment_ are as from a man overpowered by the eagerness to say -everything at once, lest the night close in before he have chance of -speech. And when the _Opus majus_ was at last sent forth, accompanied by -the _Opus minus_, as a battleship by a light armed cruiser, the _Opus -tertium_ was despatched after them, filled with the same militant -exposition, for fear the former two should perish _en voyage_. - -Did they ever reach the pope? We may presume so. Did he read any one of -them? Here there is no information. Popes were the busiest men in Europe, -and death was so apt to cut short their industry. Clement died the next -year, and so far as known, no syllable of acknowledgement from him ever -reached the feverishly expectant philosopher. - -A few words will tell the rest. In 1271, apparently, Bacon wrote his -_Compendium studii philosophiae_, taking the occasion to denounce the -corruptions of Church and society in unmeasured terms. He rarely measured -his vituperation! His life was setting on toward its long last trial. In -1277, Jerome of Ascoli, the General of the Franciscan Order, held a -Chapter at Paris, and Bacon was condemned to imprisonment (_carceri -condempnatus_) because of his teachings, which contained _aliquas -novitates suspectas_.[622] Jerome became Pope Nicholas IV. At a Chapter of -the Order held in Paris in 1292, just after his death, certain prisoners -condemned in 1277, were set free. Roger Bacon probably was among the -number. If so, it was in the year of his liberation that he wrote a tract -entitled _Compendium theologiae_; for that was written in 1292. This is -the last we hear of him. But as he must now have been hard on to eighty, -probably he did not live much longer. - -There seems to have been nothing exceptional in Bacon's attitude toward -Scripture and the doctrines of the Church. He deemed, with other mediaeval -men, that Scripture held, at least implicitly, the sum of knowledge useful -or indeed possible for men. True, neither the Old Testament nor the New -treats of grammar, or physics, or of minerals, or plants, or animals. -Nevertheless, the statements in these revealed writings are made with -complete knowledge of every topic or thing considered or referred -to--bird, beast, and plant, the courses of the stars, the earth and its -waters, yea, the arts of song or agriculture, and the principles of every -science. Conversely (and here Bacon even gave fresh emphasis and novel -pointings to the current view) all knowledge whatsoever, every art and -science, is needed for the full understanding of Scripture, _sacra -doctrina_, in a word, theology. This opinion may hold large truth; but -Bacon's advocacy of it sometimes affects us as a _reductio ad absurdum_, -especially when he is proceeding on the assumption that the patriarchs and -prophets had knowledge of all sciences, including astrology and the -connection between the courses of the stars and the truth of Christianity. - -There was likewise nothing startling in Bacon's view of the Fathers, and -their knowledge and authoritativeness. Thomas did not regard them as -inspired. Neither did Bacon; he respects them, yet discerns limitations to -their knowledge; by reason of their circumstances they may have neglected -certain of the sciences; but this is no reason why we should.[623] - -As for the ancient philosophers, Bacon holds to their partial inspiration. -"God illuminated their minds to desire and perceive the truths of -philosophy. He even disclosed the truth to them."[624] They received their -knowledge from God, indirectly as it were, through the prophets, to whom -God revealed it directly. More than once and with every detail of baseless -tradition, he sets forth the common view that the Greek philosophers -studied the prophets, and drew their wisdom from that source.[625] But -their knowledge was not complete; and it behoves us to know much that is -not in Aristotle.[626] - - "The study of wisdom may always increase in this life, because nothing - is perfect in human discoveries. Therefore, we later men ought to - supplement the defects of the ancients, since we have entered into - their labours, through which, unless we are asses, we may be incited - to improve upon them. It is most wretched always to be using what has - been attained, and never reach further for one's self."[627] - -It may be that Bacon was suspected of raising the philosophers too near -the Christian level; and perhaps his argument that their knowledge had -come from the prophets may have seemed a vain excuse. Says he, for -example: - - "There was a great book of Aristotle upon civil science,[628] well - agreeing with the Christian law; for the law of Aristotle has precepts - like the Christian law, although much is added in the latter excelling - all human science. The Christian law takes whatever is worthy in the - civil philosophical law. For God gave the philosophers all truth, as - the saints, and especially Augustine, declare.... And what noble - thoughts have they expressed upon God, the blessed Trinity, the - Incarnation, Christ, the blessed Virgin, and the angels."[629] - -Possibly one is here reminded of Abaelard, and his thought of Christianity -as _reformatio legis naturalis_. Yet Christ had said, He came not to -destroy, but to fulfil; and the chief Christian theologians had followed -Augustine in "despoiling the Egyptians" as he phrased it; the very process -which in fact was making the authority of Aristotle supreme in Bacon's -time. So there was little that was peculiar or suspicious in Bacon's -admiration of the philosophers. - -The trouble with Bacon becomes clearer as we turn to his views upon the -state of knowledge in his time, and the methods of contemporary doctors in -rendering it worse, rather than better. These doctors were largely engaged -upon _sacra doctrina_; they were primarily theologians and expounders of -the truth of revelation. Bacon's criticism of their methods might -disparage that to which those methods were applied. His caustic -enumeration of the four everlasting causes of error, and the seven vices -infecting the study of theology, will show reason enough why his -error-stricken and infected contemporaries wished to close his mouth. The -anxiousness of some might sour to enmity under the acerbity of his attack; -nor would their hearts be softened by Bacon's boasting that these various -doctors, of course including Albert, could not write in ten years what he -is sending to the pope.[630] Bacon declares that there is at Paris a great -man (was it Albert? was it Thomas?), who is set up as an authority in the -schools, like Aristotle or Averroes; and his works display merely -"infinite puerile vanity," "ineffable falsity," superfluous verbiage, and -the omission of the most needful parts of philosophy.[631] Bacon is not -content with abusing members of the rival Dominican Order; but includes in -his contempt the venerable Alexander of Hales, the defunct light of the -Franciscans. "_Nullum ordinem excludo_," cries he, in his sweeping -denunciation of his epoch's rampant sins. As for the seculars, why, they -can only lecture by stealing the copy-books of the "boys" in the -"aforesaid Orders."[632] "Never," says Bacon in the _Compendium studii_ -from which the last phrases are taken, "has there been such a show of -wisdom, nor such prosecution of study in so many faculties through so many -regions as in the last forty years. Doctors are spread everywhere, -especially in theology, in every city, castle, and burg, chiefly through -the two student Orders. Yet there was never so great ignorance and so much -error--as shall appear from this writing."[633] - -Bacon never loses a chance of stating the four causes of the error and -ignorance about him. These causes preyed upon his mind--he would have said -they preyed upon the age. They are elaborately expounded in pars i. of the -_Opus majus_:[634] - - "There are four principal stumbling blocks (_offendicula_) to - comprehending truth, which hinder well-nigh every one: the example of - frail and unworthy authority, long-established custom, the sense of - the ignorant crowd (_vulgi sensus imperiti_), and the hiding of one's - own ignorance under the pretence of wisdom. In these, every man is - involved and every state beset. For in every act of life, or business, - or study, these three worst arguments are used for the same - conclusion: this was the way of our ancestors, this is the custom, - this is the common view: therefore should be held. But the opposite - of this conclusion follows much better from the premises, as I will - prove through authority, experience, and reason. If these three are - sometimes refuted by the glorious power of reason, the fourth is - always ready, as a gloss for foolishness; so that, though a man know - nothing of any value, he will impudently magnify it, and thus, - soothing his wretched folly, defeat truth. From these deadly pests - come all the evils of the human race; for the noblest and most useful - documents of wisdom are ignored, and the secrets of the arts and - sciences. Worse than this, men blinded by the darkness of these four - do not see their ignorance, but take every care to palliate that for - which they do not find the remedy; and what is the worst, when they - are in the densest shades of error, they deem themselves in the full - light of truth."[635] - -Therefore they think the true the false, and spend their time and money -vainly, says Bacon with many strainings of phrase. - -"There is no remedy," continues Bacon, "against the first three causes of -error save as with all our strength we set the sound authors above the -weak ones, reason above custom, and the opinions of the wise above the -humours of the crowd; and do not trust in the triple argument: this has -precedent, this is customary, this is the common view." But the fourth -cause of error is the worst of all. "For this is a lone and savage beast, -which devours and destroys all reason,--this desire of seeming wise, with -which every man is born." Bacon arraigns this cause of evil, through -numerous witnesses, sacred and profane. It has two sides: display of -pretended knowledge, and excusing of ignorance. Infinite are the verities -of God and the creation: let no one boast of knowledge. It is not for man -to glory in his wisdom; faith goes beyond man's knowledge; and still much -is unrevealed. In forty years we learn no more than could be taught youth -in one. I have profited more from simple men "than from all my famous -doctors." - -Bacon's four universal causes of ignorance indicate his general attitude. -More specific criticisms upon the academic methods of his time are -contained in his _septem peccata studii principalis quod est theologiae_. -This is given in the _Opus minus_.[636] Bacon, it will be remembered, says -again and again that all sciences must serve theology, and find their -value from that service: the science of theology includes every science, -and should use each as a handmaid for its own ends. Accordingly, when -Bacon speaks of the seven vices of the _studium principale quod est -theologia_, we may expect him to point out vicious methods touching all -branches of study, yet with an eye to their common service of their -mistress. - - "Seven are the vices of the chief study which is theology; the first - is that philosophy in practice dominates theology. But it ought not to - dominate in any province beyond itself, and surely not the science of - God, which leads to eternal life.... The greater part of all the - quaestiones in a _Summa theologiae_ is pure philosophy, with arguments - and solutions; and there are infinite quaestiones concerning the - heavens, and concerning matter and being, and concerning species and - the similitudes of things, and concerning cognition through such; also - concerning eternity and time, and how the soul is in the body, and how - angels move locally, and how they are in a place, and an infinitude of - like matters which are determined in the books of the philosophers. To - investigate these difficulties does not belong to theologians, - according to the main intent and subject of their work. They ought - briefly to recite these truths as they find them determined in - philosophy. Moreover, the other matter of the quaestiones which - concerns what is proper to theology, as concerning the Blessed - Trinity, the Incarnation, the Sacraments, is discussed principally - through the authorities, arguments, and distinctions of philosophy." - -Evidently, this first vice of theological study infected the method of -Albert and Thomas, and of practically all other theologians! Its -correction might call for a complete reversal of method. But the reversal -desired by Bacon would scarcely have led back to Gospel simplicity, as may -be seen from what follows. - - "The second vice is that the best sciences, which are those most - clearly pertinent to theology, are not used by theologians. I refer to - the grammar of the foreign tongues from which all theology comes. Of - even more value are mathematics, optics, moral science, experimental - science, and alchemy. But the cheap sciences (_scientiae viles_) are - used by theologians, like Latin grammar, logic, natural philosophy in - its baser part, and a certain side of metaphysics. In these there is - neither the good of the soul, nor the good of the body, nor the good - things of fortune. But moral philosophy draws out the good of the - soul, as far as philosophy may. Alchemy is experimental and, with - mathematics and optics, promotes the good of the body and of - fortune.... While the grammar of other tongues gives theology and - moral philosophy to the Latins.... Oh! what madness is it to neglect - sciences so useful for theology, and be sunk in those which are - impertinent! - - "The third vice is that the theologians are ignorant of those four - sciences which they use; and therefore accept a mass of false and - futile propositions, taking the doubtful for certain, the obscure for - evident; they suffer alike from superfluity and the lack of what is - necessary, and so stain theology with infinite vices which proceed - from sheer ignorance." For they are ignorant of Greek and Hebrew and - Arabic, and therefore ignorant of all the sciences contained in these - tongues; and they have relied on Alexander of Hales and others as - ignorant as themselves. The fourth vice is that they study and lecture - on the _Sentences_ of the Lombard, instead of the text of Scripture; - and the lecturers on the _Sentences_ are preferred in honour, while - any one who would lecture on Scripture has to beg for a room and hour - to be set him. - - "The fifth fault is greater than all the preceding. The text of - Scripture is horribly corrupt in the Vulgate copy at Paris." - -Bacon goes at some length into the errors of the Vulgate, and gives a good -account of the various Latin versions of the Bible. Next, the "_sextum -peccatum_ is far graver than all, and may be divided into two _peccata -maxima_: one is that through these errors the literal sense of the Vulgate -has infinite falsities and intolerable uncertainties, so that the truth -cannot be known. From this follows the other _peccatum_, that the -spiritual sense is infected with the same doubt and error." These errors, -first in the literal meaning, and thence in the spiritual or allegorical -significance, spring from ignorance of the original tongues, and from -ignorance of the birds and beasts and objects of all sorts spoken of in -the Bible. "By far the greater cause of error, both in the literal and -spiritual meaning, rises from ignorance of things in Scripture. For the -literal sense is in the natures and properties of things, in order that -the spiritual meaning may be elicited through convenient adaptations and -congruent similitudes." Bacon cites Augustine to show that we cannot -understand the precept, _Estote prudentes sicut serpentes_, unless we know -that it is the serpent's habit to expose his body in defence of his head, -as the Christian should expose all things for the sake of his head, which -is Christ. Alack! is it for such ends as these that Bacon would have a -closer scholarship fostered, and natural science prosecuted? The text of -the _Opus minus_ is broken at this point, and one cannot say whether Bacon -had still a seventh _peccatum_ to allege, or whether the series ended with -the second of the vices into which he divided the sixth. - -Bacon's strictures upon the errors of his time were connected with his -labours to remedy them, and win a firmer knowledge than dialectic could -supply. To this end he advocated the study of the ancient languages, which -he held to be "the first door of wisdom, and especially for the Latins, -who have not the text, either of theology or philosophy, except from -foreign languages."[637] His own knowledge of Greek was sufficient to -enable him to read passages in that tongue, and to compose a Greek -grammar.[638] But he shows no interest in the classical Greek literature, -nor is there evidence of his having studied any important Greek -philosopher in the original. He was likewise zealous for the study of -Hebrew, Chaldee, and Arabic, the other foreign tongues which held the -learning so inadequately represented by Latin versions. He spoke with some -exaggeration of the demerits of the existing translations;[639] but he -recognised the arduousness of the translator's task, from diversity of -idiom and the difficulty of finding an equivalent in Latin for the -statements, for example, in the Greek. The Latin vocabulary often proved -inadequate; and words had to be taken bodily from the original tongue. -Likewise he saw, and so had others, though none had declared it so -clearly, that the translator should not only be master of the two -languages, but have knowledge of the subject treated by the work to be -translated.[640] - -After the languages, Bacon urged the pursuit of the sciences, which he -conceived to be interdependent and corroborative; the conclusions of each -of them susceptible of proof by the methods and data of the others. - - "Next to languages," says Bacon in chapter xxix. of the _Opus - tertium_, "I hold mathematics necessary in the second place, to the - end that we may know what may be known. It is not planted in us by - nature, yet is closest to inborn knowledge, of all the sciences which - we know through discovery and learning (_inventionem et doctrinam_). - For its study is easier than all other sciences, and boys learn its - branches readily. Besides, the laity can make diagrams, and calculate, - and sing, and use musical instruments. All these are the _opera_ of - mathematics." - -Thus, with antique and mediaeval looseness, Bacon conceived this science. -He devotes to it the long _Pars quarta_ of the _Opus majus_: saying at the -beginning that of-- - - "the four great sciences the gate and key is mathematics, which the - saints found out (_invenerunt_) from the beginning of the world, and - used more than all the other sciences. Its neglect for the past thirty - or forty years has ruined the studies (_studium_) of the Latins. For - whoso is ignorant of it cannot know the other sciences, nor the things - of this world. But knowledge of this science prepares the mind and - lifts it to the tested cognition (_certificatam cognitionem_) of all - things." - -Bacon adduces authorities to prove the need of mathematics for the study -of grammar and logic; he shows that its processes reach indubitable -certitude of truth; and "if in other sciences we would reach certitude -free from doubt, and truth without error, we must set the foundations of -cognition in mathematics."[641] He points out its obvious necessity in the -study of the heavens, and in everything pertaining to speculative and -practical _astrologia_; also for the study of physics and optics. Thus his -interest lay chiefly in its application. As human science is nought unless -it may be applied to things divine, mathematics must find its supreme -usefulness in its application to the matters of theology. It should aid us -in ascertaining the position of paradise and hell, and promote our -knowledge of Scriptural geography, and more especially, sacred chronology. -Next it affords us knowledge of the exact forms of things mentioned in -Scripture, like the ark, the tabernacle, and the temple, so that from an -accurate ascertainment of the literal sense, the true spiritual meaning -may be deduced. It should not be confused with its evil namesake -magic,[642] yet the true science is useful in determining the influence of -the stars on the fortunes of states. Moreover, mathematics, through -astrology, is of great importance in the certification of the faith, -strengthening it against the sect of Antichrist;[643] then in the -correction of the Church's calendar; and finally, as all things and -regions of the earth are affected by the heavens, astrology and -mathematics are pertinent to a consideration of geography. And Bacon -concludes _Pars quarta_ with an elaborate description of the regions, -countries, and cities of the known world. - -Bacon likewise was profoundly interested in optics, the _scientia -perspectiva_, which he sets forth elaborately in _Pars quinta_ of the -_Opus majus_. Much space would be needed to discuss his theories of light -and vision, and the propagation of physical force, treated in the _De -multiplicatione specierum_. He knew all that was to be learned from Greek -and Arabic sources, and, unlike Albert, who compiled much of the same -material, he used his knowledge to build with. Bacon had a genius for -these sciences: his _Scientia perspectiva_ is no mere compilation, and no -work used by him presented either a theory of force or of vision, -containing as many adumbrations of later theorizing.[644] Yet he fails to -cast off his obsession with the "spiritual meaning" and the utility of -science for theology. He discussed the composition of Adam's body while in -a state of innocence,[645] a point that may seem no more tangible than -Thomas's reasonings upon the movements of Angels, which Bacon ridicules. -Again in his _Optics_, after an interesting discussion of refraction and -reflection, he cannot forego a consideration of the spiritual -significations of refracted rays.[646] Even his discussion of experimental -science has touches of mediaevalism, which are peculiarly dissonant in -this most original and "advanced" product of Bacon's genius, which now -must be considered more specifically. - -The speculative intellect of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries was so -widely absorbed with the matter and methods of the dominant scholasticism, -that no one is likely to think of the eminent scholastics as isolated -phenomena. Plainly they were but as the highest peaks which somewhat -overtop the other mountains, through whose aggregation and support they -were lifted to their supreme altitude. But with Bacon the danger is real -lest he seem separate and unsupported; for the influences which helped to -make him are not over-evident. Yet he did not make himself. The directing -of his attention to linguistics is sufficiently accounted for by the -influence of Grosseteste and others, who had inaugurated the study of -Greek, and perhaps Hebrew at Oxford. As for physics or optics, others also -were interested--or there would have been no translations of Greek and -Arabic treatises for him to use;[647] and in mathematics there was a -certain older contemporary, Jordanus Nemorarius (not to mention Leonardo -Fibonacci), who far overtopped him. It is safe to assume that in the -thirteenth, as in the twelfth and previous centuries, there were men who -studied the phenomena of nature. But they have left scant record. A period -is remembered by those features of its main accomplishment which are not -superseded or obliterated by the further advance of later times. Nothing -has obliterated the work of the scholastics for those who may still care -for such reasonings; and Aquinas to-day holds sway in the Roman Catholic -Church. On the other hand, the sparse footprints of the mediaeval men who -essayed the paths of natural science have long since been trodden out by -myriad feet passing far beyond them, along those ways. Yet there were -these wayfarers, who made little stir in their own time, and have long -been well forgotten. Had it not been for the letter from Pope Clement, -Bacon himself might be among them; and only his writings keep from utter -oblivion the name of an individual who, according to Bacon, carried the -practice of "experimental science" further than he could hope to do. It -may be fruitful to approach Bacon's presentation of this science, or -scientific method, through his references to this extraordinary Picard, -named Peter of Maharncuria, or Maricourt. - -In the _Opus tertium_, Bacon has been considering optics and mathematics, -and has spoken of this Peter as proficient in them; and thus he opens -chapter xiii., which is devoted to the _scientia experimentalis_: - - "But beyond these sciences is one more perfect than all, which all - serve, and which in a wonderful way certifies them all: this is called - the experimental science, which neglects arguments, since they do not - make certain, however strong they may be, unless at the same time - there is present the _experientia_ of the conclusion. Experimental - science teaches _experiri_, that is, to test, by observation or - experiment, the lofty conclusions of all sciences." This science none - but Master Peter knows. - -By following the text further, we may be able to appreciate what Bacon -will shortly say of him: - - "Another dignity of this science is that it attests these noble truths - in terms of the other sciences, which they cannot prove or - investigate: like the prolongation of human life; for this truth is in - terms of medicine, but the art of medicine never extends itself to - this truth, nor is there anything about it in medical treatises. But - the _fidelis experimentator_ has considered that the eagle, and the - stag, and the serpent, and the phoenix prolong life, and renew their - youth, and knows that these things are given to brutes for the - instruction of men. Wherefore he has thought out noble plans (_vias - nobiles_) with this in view, and has commanded alchemy to prepare a - body of like constitution (_aequalis complexionis_), that he may use - it." - -It may be pertinent to our estimate of Bacon's experimental science to -query where the _experimentator_ ever observed an eagle or a phoenix -renewing its youth, outside of the _Physiologus_? - - "The third dignity of this science is that it does not accept truths - in terms of the other sciences, yet uses them as handmaids.... And - this science attests all natural and artificial data specifically and - in the proper province, _per experientiam perfectam_; not through - arguments, like the purely speculative sciences, and not through weak - and imperfect _experientias_, like the operative sciences (_scientiae - operativae_).[648] So this is the mistress of all, and the goal of all - speculation. But it requires great expenditures for its prosecution; - Aristotle, by Alexander's authority, besides those whom he used at - home _in experientia_, sent many thousands of men through the world to - examine (_ad experiendum_) the natures and properties of all things, - as Pliny tells. And certainly to set on fire at any distance would - cost more than a thousand marks, before adequate glasses could be - prepared; but they would be worth an army against the Turks and - Saracens. For the perfect experimenter could destroy any hostile force - by this combustion through the sun's rays. This is a marvellous thing, - yet there are many other things more wonderful in this science; but - very few people are devoted to it, from lack of money. I know but one, - who deserves praise for the prosecution of its works; he cares not for - wordy controversies, but prosecutes the works of wisdom, and in them - rests. So what others as purblind men try to see, like bats in the - twilight, he views in the full brightness of day, because he is - _dominus experimentorum_. He knows natural matters _per experientiam_, - and those of medicine and alchemy, and all things celestial and below. - He is ashamed if any layman, or old woman, or knight, or rustic, knows - what he does not. He has studied everything in metal castings, and - gold and silver work, and the use of other metals and minerals; he - knows everything pertaining to war and arms and hunting; he has - examined into agriculture and surveying; also into the experiments and - fortune-tellings of old women, knows the spells of wizards; likewise - the tricks and devices of jugglers. In fine, nothing escapes him that - he ought to know, and he knows how to expose the frauds of magic." - -It is impossible to complete philosophy, usefully and with certitude, -without Peter; but he is not to be had for a price; he could have had -every honour from princes; and if he wished to publish his works, the -whole world of Paris would follow him. But he cares not a whit for honours -or riches, though he could get them any time he chose through his wisdom. -This man has worked at such a burning-glass for three years, and soon will -perfect it by the grace of God. - -There is a great deal of Roger Bacon in these curious passages; much of -his inductive genius, much of his sanguine hopefulness, not to say -inventive imagination; and enough of his credulity. No one ever knew or -could perform all he ascribes to this astounding Peter, from whom, -apparently, there is extant a certain intelligent treatise upon the -magnet.[649] And as for those burning-glasses, or possibly reflectors, by -which distant fleets and armies should be set afire--did they ever exist? -Did Archimedes ever burn with them the Roman ships at Syracuse? Were they -ever more than a myth? It is, at all events, safe to say that no device -from the hand and brain of Peter of Maharncuria ever threatened Turk or -Saracen. - -It is knowledge that gives insight. Modern critical methods amount chiefly -to this, that we know more. Bacon did not have such knowledge of animal -physiology as would assure him of the absurdity of the notion that an -eagle or any animal could renew its youth. Nor did he know enough to -realise the vast improbability of Greek philosophers drawing their -knowledge from the books of Hebrew prophets. And one sees how loose must -have been the practice, or the dreams, of his "experimental science." His -fundamental conception seems to waver: _Scientia experimentalis_, is it a -science, or is it a means and method universally applicable to all -scientific investigation? The sciences serve it as handmaids, says Bacon; -and he also says, that it alone can test and certify, make sure and -certain, the conclusions of the other sciences. Perhaps he thought it the -master-key fitting all the doors of knowledge; and held that all sciences, -so far as possible, should proceed from experience, through further -observation and experiment. But he has not said quite this. - -He is little to be blamed for his vagueness, and greatly to be admired for -having reached his possibly inconsistent conception. Observation and -experiment were as old as human thought upon human experience. And Albert -the Great says that the conclusions of all sciences should be tested by -them. But he evinces no formal conception of either an experimental -science or method; though he has much to say as to logic, and ponderously -considers whether it is a science or the means or method of all -sciences.[650] Herein he is discussing consciously with respect to logic, -the very point as to which Bacon, in respect to experimental science, -rather unconsciously wavers: is it a science, and almost the queen? Or is -it the true scientific method to be followed by all sciences when -applicable?[651] Bacon had no high regard for the study of logic, deeming -that the thoughts of untaught men naturally followed its laws.[652] This -was doubtless true, and just as true, moreover, of experimental science -as of logic. The one and the other were built up from the ways of the -common man and universal processes of thought. Yet the logic of the -trained mind is the surer; and so experimental science may reach out -beyond the crude observations of unscientific men. - -Manifestly with Roger Bacon the _scientia experimentalis_ held the place -which logic held with Albert, or queenly dialectic with Abaelard. He -repeats himself continually in stating its properties and prerogatives, -yet without advancing to greater clearness of conception. _Pars sexta_ of -the _Opus majus_ is devoted to it: and we may take one last glance to see -whether the statements there throw any further light upon the matter. - - "The roots of the wisdom of the Latins having been placed and set in - Languages, Mathematics, and Perspective, I now wish to re-examine - these _radices_ from the side of _scientia experimentalis_; because, - without _experientia_ nothing can be known adequately. There are two - modes of arriving at knowledge (_cognoscendi_), to wit, argument and - _experimentum_. Argument draws a conclusion and forces us to concede - it, but does not make it certain or remove doubt, so that the mind may - rest in the perception of truth, unless the mind find truth by the way - of experience." - -And Bacon says, as illustration, that you could never by mere argument -convince a man that fire would burn; also that "in spite of the -demonstration of the properties of an equilateral triangle, the mind would -not stick to the conclusion _sine experientia_." - -After referring to Aristotle, and adducing some examples of foolish things -believed by learned and common men alike, because they had not applied the -tests of observation, he concludes: "Oportet ergo omnia certificari per -viam experientiae." He continues with something unexpected: - - "_Sed duplex est experientia_: one is through the external senses, and - thus those _experimenta_ take place which are made through suitable - instruments in astronomy, and by the tests of observation as to things - below. And whatever like matters may not be observed by us, we know - from other wise men who have observed them. This _experientia_ is - human and philosophical; but it is not sufficient for man, because it - does not give plenary assurance as to things corporeal; and as to - things spiritual it reaches nothing. The intellect of man needs other - aid, and so the holy patriarchs and prophets, who first gave the - sciences to the world, received inner illuminations and did not stand - on sense alone. Likewise many believers after Christ. For the grace of - faith illuminates much, and divine inspirations, not only in spiritual - but corporeal things, and in the sciences of philosophy. As Ptolemy - says, the way of coming to a knowledge of things is duplex, one - through the _experientia_ of philosophy, and the other through divine - inspiration, which is much better."[653] - -Any doubt as to the religious and Christian meaning of the last passage is -removed by Bacon's statement of the - - "seven grades of this inner science: the first is through - _illuminationes pure scientiales_; the next consists in virtues, for - the bad man is ignorant; ... the third is in the seven gifts of the - Holy Spirit, which Isaiah enumerates; the fourth is in the beatitudes - which the Lord defines in the Gospel; the fifth is in the _sensibus - spiritualibus_; the sixth is in _fructibus_, from which is the peace - of God which passes _omnem sensum_; the seventh consists in raptures - (_in raptibus_) and their modes, as in various ways divers men have - been enraptured, so that they saw many things which it is not lawful - for man to tell. And who is diligently exercised in these experiences, - or some of them, can certify both to himself and others not only as to - spiritual things, but as to all human sciences."[654] - -These utterances are religious, and bring us back to the religious, or -practical, motive of Bacon's entire endeavour after knowledge: knowledge -should have its utility, its practical bearing; and the ultimate utility -is that which promotes a sound and saving knowledge of God. The true -method of research, says Bacon in the _Compendium studii_, - - "... is to study first what properly comes first in any science, the - easier before the more difficult, the general before the particular, - the less before the greater. The student's business should lie in - chosen and useful topics, because life is short; and these should be - set forth with clearness and certitude, which is impossible without - _experientia_. Because, although we know through three means, - authority, reason, and _experientia_, yet authority is not wise - unless its reason be given (_auctoritas non sapit nisi detur ejus - ratio_), nor does it give knowledge, but belief. We believe, but do - not know, from authority. Nor can reason distinguish sophistry from - demonstration, unless we know that the conclusion is attested by facts - (_experiri per opera_). Yet the fruits of study are insignificant at - the present time, and the secret and great matters of wisdom are - unknown to the crowd of students."[655] - -It is as with an echo of this thought, that Bacon begins the second -chapter of his exposition of experimental science in the sixth part of the -_Opus majus_, from which we have but now withdrawn our attention. He -anxiously reiterates what he has already said more than once, as to the -properties and prerogatives of this _scientia experimentalis_. Then he -gives his most interesting and elaborate example of its application in the -investigation of the rainbow, an example too lengthy and too difficult to -reproduce. In stating the three prerogatives, he makes but slight change -of phrasing; yet his restatement of the last of them:--"The third -_dignitas_ of this science is that it investigates the secrets of nature -by its own competency and out of its own qualities, irrespective of any -connection with the other sciences,"--signifies an autonomous science, -rather than a method applicable to all investigation. The illustrations -which Bacon now gives, range free indeed; yet in the main relate to -"useful discoveries" as one might say: to ever-burning lamps, Greek fire, -explosives, antidotes for poison, and matters useful to the Church and -State. Along these lines of discovery through experiment, Bacon lets his -imagination travel and lead him on to surmises of inventions that long -after him were realised. "Machines for navigating are possible without -rowers, like great ships suited to river or ocean, going with greater -velocity than if they were full of rowers: likewise wagons may be moved -_cum impetu inaestimabili_, as we deem the chariots of antiquity to have -been. And there may be flying machines, so made that a man may sit in the -middle of the machine and direct it by some devise: and again, machines -for raising great weights."[656] The modern reality has outdone this -mediaeval dream. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII - -DUNS SCOTUS AND OCCAM - - -The thirteenth century was a time of potent Church unity, when the papacy, -triumphant over emperors and kings, was drawing further strength from the -devotion of the two Orders, who were renewing the spiritual energies of -Western Christendom. Scholasticism was still whole and unbroken, in spite -of Roger Bacon, who attacked its methods with weapons of his own forging, -yet asserting loudly the single-eyed subservience of all the sciences to -theology. This assertion from a man of Bacon's views, was as vain as the -_Unam sanctam_ of Pope Boniface VIII., fulminated in 1302, arrogating for -the papacy every power on earth. In earlier decades such pretensions had -been almost acquiesced in; but the _Unam sanctam_ was a senile outcry from -a papacy vanquished by the new-grown power of the French king, sustained -by the awakening of a French nation. - -The opening years of the fourteenth century, so fatal for the papacy, were -also portentous for scholasticism. The _Summa_ of Thomas was impugned by -Joannes Duns Scotus, whose entire work, constructive as well as critical, -was impressed with qualities of finality, signifying that in the forms of -reasoning represented by him as well as Thomas, thought should advance no -farther. Bacon's attack upon scholastic methods had proved abortive from -its tactlessness and confusion, and because men did not care for, and -perhaps did not understand, his arguments. It was not so with the -arguments of Duns Scotus. Throughout the academic world, thought still was -set to chords of metaphysics; and although men had never listened to quite -such dialectic orchestration as Duns provided, they liked it, perceived -its motives, and comprehended the meaning of its themes. So his generation -understood and appreciated him. That he was the beginning of the end of -the scholastic system, could not be known until the manner of that ending -had disclosed itself more fully. We, however, discern the symptoms of -scholastic dissolution in his work. His criticism of his predecessors was -disintegrating, even when not destructive. His own dialectic was so -surpassingly intricate and dizzy that, like the choir of Beauvais, it -might some day collapse. With Duns Scotus, scholasticism reasoned itself -out of human reach. And with him also, the wholeness of the scholastic -purpose finally broke. For he no longer maintained the union of -metaphysics and theology. The latter, to be sure, was valid absolutely; -but, from a speculative, it has become a practical science. It neither -draws its principles from metaphysics, nor subordinates the other -sciences--all human knowledge--to its service. Although rational in -content, it possesses proofs stronger than dialectic, and stands on -revelation. - -There had always been men who maintained similar propositions. But it was -quite another matter that the severance between metaphysics and theology -should be demonstrated by a prodigious metaphysical theologian after a -different view had been carried to its farthest reaches by the great -Aquinas. Henceforth philosophy and theology were set on opposite -pinnacles, only with theology's pinnacle the higher. In spite of the last -circumstance, the coming time showed that men cannot for long possess in -peace two standards of truth--philosophy and revelation; but will be -driven to hold to the one and ignore the other. By breaking the rational -union of philosophy and theology, Duns Scotus prepared the way for Occam. -The latter also asserts vociferously the superiority of the divine truth -over human knowledge and its reasonings. But the popes are at Avignon, and -the Christian world no longer bows down before those willing Babylonian -captives. Under such a blasted condition of the Church, how should any -inclusive Christian synthesis of thought and faith be maintained? - -Duns Scotus[657] could not have been what he was, had he not lived after -Thomas. He was indeed the pinnacle of scholasticism; set upon all the -rest. Yet this pinnacle had its more particular supports--or antecedents. -And their special line may be noted without intending thereby to suggest -that the influences affecting the thought of Duns Scotus did not include -all the men he heard or read, and criticised. - -That Duns Scotus was educated at Oxford, and became a Franciscan, and not -a Dominican, had done much to set the lines of thought reflected in his -doctrines. Anselm of Aosta, of Bec, of Canterbury, had been an -intellectual force in England. Duns was strongly influenced by his bold -realism, by his emphasis upon the power and freedom of the will, and by -his doctrine of the atonement.[658] But Anselm also affected Scotus -indirectly through the English worthy who stands between them. - -This, of course, was Robert Grosseteste, to whom we have had occasion to -refer, yet, despite of his intrinsic worth, always in relation to his -effect on others. He was a great man; in his day a many-sided force, -strong in the business of Church and State, strong in censuring and -bridling the wicked, strong in the guidance of the young university of -Oxford, and a mighty friend of the Franciscan Order, then establishing -itself there. To his pupils, and their pupils apparently, he was a -fruitful inspiration; yet the historian of thought may be less interested -in the master than in certain of these pupils who brought to explicit form -divers matters which in Grosseteste seem to have been but inchoate.[659] -One thinks immediately of Roger Bacon, who was his pupil; and then of -Duns, the metaphysician, who possibly may have listened to some aged pupil -of Grosseteste. In different ways, Duns as well as Bacon took much from -the master. And it is possible to see how the great teacher and bishop -may have incited the genius of Scotus as well as that of Bacon to perform -its task. For Grosseteste was a rarely capable and clear-eyed man, honest -and resolute, who with the entire strength of a powerful personality -insisted upon going to the heart of every proposition, and testing its -validity by the surest means obtainable. By virtue of his training and -intellectual inheritance, he was an Augustinian and a Platonist; a -successor of Anselm, rather than a predecessor of the great Dominican -Aristotelians. He was accordingly an emphatic realist, yet one who would -co-ordinate the reality of his "universals" with the reality of -experience. Even had he not been an Augustinian, such a masterful -character would have realised the power of the human will, and felt the -practical insistencies of the _art_ of human salvation, which was the -_science_ of theology. - -Views like these prevailed at Oxford. They may be found clearly stated by -Richard of Middleton, an Oxford Franciscan somewhat older than Duns -Scotus. He declares that theology is a practical science, and emphasises -the primacy and freedom of the will. _Voluntas est nobilissima potentia in -anima._ Again: _Voluntas simpliciter nobilior est quam intellectus_: the -intellect indeed goes before the Will, as the servant who carries the -candle before his lord. So the idea of the Good, toward which the Will -directs itself, is higher than that of the True, which is the object of -the mind; and loving is greater than knowing.[660] Roger Bacon had also -held that Will (_Voluntas_) was higher than the knowing faculty -(_intellectus_); and so did Henry of Ghent,[661] a man of the Low -Countries, _doctor solemnis_ hight, and a ruling spirit at the Paris -University in the latter part of the thirteenth century. Many of his -doctrines substantially resembled those of Scotus, although attacked by -him. - -So we seem to see the pit in which Duns may have digged. This man, who was -no mere _fossor_, but a builder, and might have deserved the name of -Poliorcetes, as the overthrower of many bulwarks, has left few traces of -himself, beyond his twenty tomes of metaphysics, which contain no personal -references to their author. The birthplace of Johannes Duns Scotus, -whether in Scotland, England or Ireland, is unknown. The commonly accepted -date, 1274, probably should be abandoned for an earlier year. It is known -that he was a Franciscan, and that the greater part of his life as student -and teacher was passed at Oxford. In a letter of commendation, written by -the General of his Order in 1304, he is already termed _subtilissimus_. He -was then leaving for Paris, where, two or three years later, in 1307, he -was made a Doctor. The following year he was sent to Cologne, and there he -died an enigmatical death on November 8, 1308. Report has it that he was -buried alive while in a trance.[662] Probably there was little to tell of -the life of Duns Scotus. His personality, as well as his career, seems -completely included and exhausted in his works. Yet back of them, besides -a most acutely reasoning mind, lay an indomitable will. The man never -faltered in his labour any more than his reasoning wavered in its -labyrinthic course to its conclusions. His learning was complete: he knew -the Bible and the Fathers; he was a master of theology, of philosophy, of -astronomy, and mathematics. - -The constructive processes of his genius appear to issue out of the action -of its critical energies. Duns was the most penetrating critic produced by -scholasticism. Whatever he considered from the systems of other men he -subjected to tests that were apt to leave the argument in tatters. No -logical inconsequence escaped him. And when every point had been examined -with respect to its rational consistency, this dialectic genius was -inclined to bring the matter to the bar of psychological experience. On -the other hand he was a churchman, holding that even as Scripture and -dogma were above question, so were the decrees of the Church, God's -sanctioned earthly _Civitas_. - -Having thus tested whatever was presented by human reason, and accepting -what was declared by Scripture or the Church, Duns proceeds to build out -his doctrine as the case may call for. No man ever drove either -constructive logic or the subtilties of critical distinctions closer to -the limits of human comprehension or human patience than Duns Scotus. And -here lies the trouble with him. The endless ramification and refinement -of his dialectic, his devious processes of conclusion, make his work a -_reductio ad absurdum_ of scholastic ways of reasoning. Logically, -eristically, the argumentation is inerrant. It never wanders aimlessly, -but winding and circling, at last it reaches a conclusion from some point -unforeseen. Would you run a course with this master of the syllogism? If -you enter _his_ lists, you are lost. The right way to attack him, is to -stand without, and laugh. That is what was done afterwards, when whoever -cared for such reasonings was called a _Dunce_, after the name of this -most subtle of mediaeval metaphysicians. - -Thus a man is judged by his form and method, and by the bulk of his -accomplishment. Form, method, bulk of accomplishment, with Scotus were -preposterous. When the taste or mania for such dialectics passed away, -this kind of form, this maze of method, this hopelessness of bulk, made an -unfit vehicle for a philosophy of life. Men would not search it through to -find the living principles. Yet living principles were there; or, at -least, tenable and consistent views. The main positions of Duns Scotus, -some of which he held in opposition to Thomas, may strike us as quite -reasonable: we may be inclined to agree with him. Perhaps it will surprise -us to find sane doctrine so well hidden in such dialectic. - -He held, for example, that there is no real difference between the soul -and its faculties. Thomas never demonstrated the contrary quite -satisfactorily. Again, Duns Scotus was a realist: the Idea exists, since -it is conceived. For the intellect is passive, and is moved by the -intelligible. Therefore the Universal must be a something, in order to -occasion the conception of it. Thus the reality of the concept proves the -actuality of the Idea.[663] Duns adds further explanations and -distinctions regarding the actuality of universals, which are somewhat -beyond the comprehension of the modern mind. But one may remark that he -reaches his views of the actuality of universals through analysis of the -processes of thought. Sense-perception occasions the Idea in us; there -must exist some objective correspondence to our general concepts, as there -must also be in things some objective correspondence to our perception of -them as individuals, whereby they become to us this or that individual -thing. Such individual objectivity is constituted by the _thisness_ of the -thing, its _haecceitas_ which is to be contra-distinguished from its -general essence, to wit, its _whatness_, or _quidditas_. Duns holds that -we think individual things directly as we think abstract Ideas; and so -their _haecceitas_ is as true an object of our thought as their -_quidditas_. This seems a reasonable conclusion, seeing that the -individual and not the type is the final end of creation. So our -conceptions prove for us the actuality both of the universal and the -concrete; and the proof of one and the other is rooted in -sense-perception. - -Nothing was of greater import with Duns than the doctrine of the primacy -of the Will over the intellect. Duns supports it with intricate argument. -The soul in substance is identical with its faculties; but the latter are -formally distinguishable from it and from each other. Knowing and willing -are faculties or properties of the soul. The will is purely spiritual, and -to be distinguished from sense-appetite: the will, and the will alone, is -free; absolutely undetermined by any cause beyond itself. Even the -intellect, that is the knowing faculty, is determined from without. -Although some cognition precedes the act of willing, the will is not -determined by cognition, but uses it. So the will, being free, is higher -than the intellect. It is the will that constitutes man's greatness; it -raises him above nature, and liberates him from her coercions. Not the -intellect, but the will directs itself toward the goal of blessedness, and -is the subject of the moral virtues. Such seems to be Duns's main -position; but he distinguishes and refines the matter beyond the limits of -our comprehension.[664] - -Another fundamental doctrine with Duns Scotus is that theology is not a -speculative, but a practical, science--a position which Duns -unfortunately disproved with his tomes of metaphysics! But in spite of the -personal _reductio ad absurdum_ of his argument, the position taken by him -betokens the breaking up of the scholastic system. The subject of -theology, at least for men, is the revelation of God contained in -Scripture. "Holy Scripture is a kind of knowledge (_quaedam notitia_) -divinely given in order to direct men to a supernatural end--_in finem -supernaturalem_."[665] The knowledge revealed in Scripture relates to -God's free will and ordainment for man; which is, that man should attain -blessedness. Therefore the truths of Scripture are practical, having an -end in view; they are such as are necessary for Salvation. The Church has -authority to declare the meaning of Scripture, and supplement it through -its Catholic tradition. - -Is theology, then, properly a science? Duns will not deny it; but thinks -it may more properly be called a _sapientia_, since according to its -nature, it is rather a knowledge of principles than a method of -conclusions. It consists in knowledge of God directly revealed. Therefore -its principles are not those of the human sciences: for example, it does -not accept its principles from metaphysics, although that science treats -of much that is contained in theology. Nor are the sciences--we can hardly -say the _other_ sciences--subordinated to it; since their province is -natural knowledge obtained through natural means. Theology, if it be a -science, is one apart from the rest. The knowledge which makes its -substance is never its end, but always means to its end; which is to say, -that it is practical and not speculative. By virtue of its primacy as well -as character, theology pertains to the Will, and works itself out in -practice: practical alike are its principles and conclusions. Apparently, -with Duns, theology is a science only in this respect, that its substance, -which is most rational, may be logically treated with a view to a complete -and consistent understanding of it.[666] - -In entire consistency with these fundamental views, Duns held that man's -supreme beatitude lay in the complete and perfect functioning of his will -in accordance with the will of God. This was a strong and noble view of -man, free to think and act and will and love, according to the will, and -aided by the Grace, of the Creator of his will and mind. The trouble lay, -as said before, in the method by which all was set forth and proved. The -truly consequent person who made theology a practical matter, was such a -one as Francis of Assisi, with his ceaselessly-burning Christlike love -actualizing itself in living act and word--or possibly such a one as -Bonaventura with his piety. But can it ever seem other than fantastic, to -state this principle, and then bulwark it with volumes of dialectic and a -metaphysics beyond the grasp of human understanding? Not from such does -one learn to do the will of God. This was scarcely the way to make good -the ultimate practical character of religion, as against Thomas's frankly -intellectual view. Duns is as intellectual as Thomas; but Thomas is the -more consistent. And shall we say, that with Duns all makes toward God, as -the final end, through the strong action of the human will and love? So be -it--Thomas said, through intellection and through love. Again one queries, -did the Scotian reasoning ever foster love? - -And then Duns set theology apart,--and supreme. Again, so be it. Let the -impulsive religion of the soul assert its primacy. But this was not the -way of Duns. Theology and philosophy do not rest on the same principles, -says he; but how does he demonstrate it? By substantiating this severance -by means of metaphysical dialectic, and using the same dialectic and the -same metaphysics to prove that theology can do without either. Not by -dialectic and metaphysics can theology free itself from them, and set -itself on other foundations. - -Duns Scotus exerted great influence, both directly and through the -reaction occasioned by certain of his teachings. The next generations were -full of Scotists, who were proud if only they might be reputed more subtle -than their master. They succeeded in becoming more inane. There were other -men, whom the critical processes of Duns led to deny the validity of his -constructive metaphysics. Of those who profited by his teaching, yet -represented this reaction against parts of it, the ablest was the -Franciscan, William of Occam, a man but few years younger than Duns. He -was born in England, in the county of Surrey; and studied under Duns at -Paris. It is known that in 1320 he was lecturing with distinction at this -centre of intellectual life. Three years afterward, he quitted his chair, -and in the controversies then rending his Order, hotly espoused the cause -of the _Spirituales_--the Franciscans who would carry out the precepts of -Francis to the letter. Next, he threw himself with all the ardour of his -temper into the conflict with the papacy, and became the literary champion -of the rights of the State. He was cited before the pope, and imprisoned -at Avignon, but escaped, in 1328, and fled to the Court of the emperor, -Louis of Bavaria, to whom, as the accounts declare, he addressed the proud -word: _Tu me defendas gladio, ego te defendam calamo_. He died about 1347. - -The succession, as it were, of Occam to Duns Scotus, is of great interest. -It was portentous for scholasticism. The pupil, for pupil in large measure -he was, profited by the critical methods and negations of the master. But -he denied the validity of the metaphysical constructions whereby Duns -sought to rebuild what his criticism had cast down or shaken. Especially, -Occam would not accept the subtle Doctor's fabrication of an external -world in accord with the apparent necessities of thought. For with all -Duns's critical insistency, never did a man more unhesitatingly make a -universe to fit the syllogistic processes of his reason, projected into -the external world. Here Occam would not follow him, as Aristotle would -not follow Plato. - -It were well to consider more specifically these two sides of Occam's -succession to Duns Scotus, shown in his acceptance and rejection of the -master's teaching. He followed him, of course, in emphasising the -functions of the will; and accepted the conception of theology as -practical, and not speculative, in its ends; and, like Duns, he -distinguished, nay rather, severed, theology from philosophy, widening the -cleft between them. If, with Duns, theology was still, in a sense, a -science; with Occam it could hardly be called one. Although Duns denied -that theology was to be controlled by principles drawn from metaphysics, -he laboured to produce a metaphysical counterfeit, wherein theology, -founded on revelation and church law, should present a close parallel to -what it would have been, had its controlling principles been those of -metaphysics. Occam quite as resolutely as his master, proves the -untenability of current theological reasonings. More unreservedly than -Duns, he interdicts the testing of theology by reason: and goes beyond him -in restricting the sphere of rationally demonstrable truth, denying, for -instance, that reason can demonstrate God's unity, infinity, or even -existence. Unlike Duns, he would not attempt to erect a quasi-scientific -theology, in the place of the systems he rejects. To make up for this -negative result, Occam asserted the verity of Scripture unqualifiedly, as -Duns also did. With Occam, Scripture, revelation, is absolutely -infallible, neither requiring nor admitting the proofs of reason. To be -sure he co-ordinates with it the Law of Nature, which God has implanted in -our minds. But otherwise theology, faith, stands alone, very isolated, -although on the alleged most certain of foundations. The provinces of -science and faith are different. Faith's assent is not required for what -is known through evidence; science does not depend on faith. Nor does -faith or theology depend on _scientia_. And since, without faith, no one -can assent to those verities which are to be believed (_veritatibus -credibilibus_), there is no _scientia proprie dicta_ respecting them. So -the breach in the old scholastic, Thomist, unity was made utter and -irreparable. Theology stands on the surest of bases, but isolated, -unsupported; philosophy, all human knowledge, extends around and below -it, and is discredited because irrelevant to highest truth. - -Thus far as to Occam's loyal and rebellious succession to the theology of -Duns. In philosophy, it was much the same. He accepted his critical -methods, but would not follow him in his constructive metaphysics. -Although the older man was pre-eminently a metaphysician, the critical -side of his intellect drew empiric processes within the sweep of its -energies. Occam, unconvinced of the correspondence between the logic of -concepts and the facts of the external world, seeks to limit the -principles of the former to the processes of the mind. Accordingly, he -rejects the inferences of the Scotian dialectic which project themselves -outward, as proofs of the objective existence of abstract or general -ideas. It is thus from a more thoroughgoing application of the Scotian -analysis of mental processes, and a more thoroughgoing testing of the -evidence furnished by experience, that Occam refuses to recognise the -existence of universals save in the mind, where evidently they are -necessary elements of thinking. Manifestly, he is striving very earnestly -not to go beyond the evidence; and he is also striving to eliminate all -unevidenced and unnecessary elements, and those chimeras of the mind, -which become actual untruths when posited as realities of the outer world. - -Such were the motives of Occam's far from simple theory of cognition. In -it, mental perceptions, or cognitions, were regarded as symbols (_signa_, -_termini_) of the objects represented by them. They are natural, as -contrasted with the artificial symbols of speech and writing. They fall -into three classes; first, sense-perception of the concrete object, and -thirdly, so to speak, the abstract concept representative of many objects, -or of some ideal figment or quality. Intermediate between the two, Occam -puts _notitia intuitiva_, which relates to the existence of concrete -things. It serves as a basis for the cognition of their combinations and -relationships, and forms a necessary antecedent to abstract knowledge. -_Notitia abstractiva praesupponit intuitivam._[667] Occam holds that -_notitia intuitiva_ presents the concrete thing as it exists. Otherwise -with abstract or general concepts. They are _signa_ of mental -presentations, or processes; and there is no ground for transferring them -to the world of outer realities. Their existence is confined to the mind, -where they are formed from the common elements of other _signa_, -especially those of our _notitia intuitiva_. "And so," says Occam, "the -genus is not common to many things through any sameness _in them_, but -through the common nature (_communitatem_) of the _signum_, by which the -same _signum_ is common to many things signified."[668] These universals -furnish predicates for our judgments, since through them we conceive of -realities as containing a common element of nature. They are not mere -words; but have a real existence in the mind, where they perform functions -essential to thinking. Indirectly, through their bases of _notitiae -intuitivae_, they even reflect outer realities. "The Universal is no mere -figment, to which there is no correspondence of anything like it (_cui non -correspondet aliquod consimile_) in objective being, as that is figured in -the thinker." - -It results from the foregoing argument, that science, ordered knowledge, -which seeks co-ordination and unity, has not to do with things; but with -propositions, its object being that which is known, rather than that which -is. Things are singular, while science treats of general ideas, which are -only in the mind. "It should be understood, that any science, whether -_realis_ or _rationalis_, is only concerned with propositions -(_propositionibus_); because propositions alone are known."[669] - -It was not so very great a leap from the realism of Duns, which ascribed a -certain objective existence to general ideas, to the nominalism, or rather -conceptualism, of Occam, which denied it, yet recognised the real -existence and necessary functions of universals, in the mind. The -metaphysically proved realities of Duns were rather spectral, and Occam's -universals, subjective though they were, lived a real and active life. One -feels that the realities of Duns's metaphysics scarcely extended beyond -the thinker's mind. In many respects Occam's philosophy was a strenuous -carrying out of Duns's teachings; and when it was not, we see the younger -man pushed, or rather repelled, to the positions which he took, by the -unsatisfying metaphysics of his teacher. History shows other rebounds of -thought, which seem abrupt, and yet were consequential in the same dual -way that Occam's doctrine followed that of Duns. Out of the Brahmin -Absolute came the Buddhist wheel of change; even as Parmenides was -followed hard by Heraclitus. And how often Atheism steps on Pantheism's -heels! - -Thus, developing, revising, and changing, Occam carried out the work of -Duns, and promulgated a theory of knowledge which pointed on to much later -phases of thinking. In his school he came to be called _venerabilis -inceptor_, a proper title for the man who shook loose from so much -previous thought, and became the source of so many novel views. He had, -indeed, little fear of novelty. "Novelties (_novitates_) are not -altogether to be rejected; but as what is old (_vetusta_), on becoming -burdensome, should be abolished, so novelties when, to the sound judgment, -they are useful, fruitful, necessary, expedient, are the more boldly to be -embraced."[670] - -It is not, however, as the inceptor of new philosophies or of novel views -on the relations between State and Papacy that we are viewing Occam here -at the close of this long presentation of the ultimate intellectual -interests of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. But rather as the man -who represented the ways in which the old was breaking up, and embodied -the thoughts rending the scholastic system; who even was a factor in the -palpable decadence of scholastic thinking that had set in before his eyes -were closed. For from him came a new impulse to a renewed overstudy of -formal logic--with Thomas, for example, logic had but filled its proper -rôle. Withdrawing from metaphysics the matter pertaining to the problem of -universals and much more besides, Occam transferred the same to logic, -which he called _omnium artium aptissimum instrumentum_.[671] This -reinstatement of logic as the instrument and means of all knowledge was to -be the perdition of emptier-minded men, who felt no difference between -philosophy and the war of words. And in this respect at least the -decadence of scholasticism took its inception from this bold and virile -mind which had small reverence for popes or for the idols of the schools. -We shall not follow the lines of this decay, but simply notice where they -start. - -In the growth and decline of thought, things so go hand in hand that it is -hard to say what draws and what is drawn. In the scholastic decadence, the -preposterous use of logic was a palpable element. Yet was it cause or -effect? Obviously both. Scholasticism was losing its grasp of life; and -the universities in the fourteenth century were crowded with men whose -minds mistook words for thoughts; and because of this they gave themselves -to hypertrophic logic. On the other hand, this windy study promoted the -increasing emptiness of philosophy. - -Likewise, as cause and effect, inextricably bound together, the other -factors work, and are worked upon. The number of universities increases; -professors and students multiply; but there is an awful dearth of thinkers -among them. There ceases even to be a thorough knowledge of the scholastic -systems; men study from compendia; and thereby remain most deeply -ignorant, and unfecundated by the thoughts of their forbears. Cause and -effect again! We can hardly blame them, when tomes and encyclopaedias were -being heaped mountain high, with life crushed beneath the monstrous pile, -or escaping from it. But whether cause or effect, the energies of study -slackened, and even rotted, both at the universities and generally among -the members of the two Student Orders, from whom had come the last -creators--and perhaps destroyers--of scholasticism. - -Next: the language of philosophy deteriorated, becoming turbid with the -barbarisms of hair-splitting technicalities. Likewise the method of -presentation lost coherence and clarity. All of which was the result of -academic decadence, and promoted it. - -So decay worked on within the system, each failing element being both -effect and cause, in a general subsidence of merit. There were also -causes, as it were, from without; which possibly were likewise effects of -this scholastic decay As the life of the world once had gone out of -paganism, and put on the new vigour of Christianity, so the life of the -world was now forsaking scholasticism, and deriding, shall we say, the -womb it had escaped from. Was the embryo ripe, that the womb had become -its mephitic prison? At all events, the fourteenth century brought forth, -and the next was filled with, these men who called the readers of Duns -Scotus _Dunces_--and the word still lives. Men had new thoughts; the power -of the popes was shattered, and within the Church, popes and councils -fought for supremacy; there was no longer any actual unity of the Church -to preserve the unity of thought; Wicliffe had risen; Huss and Luther were -close to the horizon; a new science of observation was also stirring, and -a new humanism was abroad. The life of men had not lessened nor their -energies and powers of thought. Yet life and power no longer pulsed and -wrought within the old forms; but had gone out from them, and disdainfully -were flouting the emptied husks. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII - -THE MEDIAEVAL SYNTHESIS: DANTE - - -It lies before us to draw the lines of mediaeval development together. We -have been considering the Middle Ages very largely, endeavouring to fix in -mind the more interesting of their intellectual and emotional phenomena. -We have found throughout a certain spiritual homogeneity; but have also -seen that the mediaeval period of western Europe is not to be forced to a -fictitious unity of intellectual and emotional quality--contradicted by a -disparity of traits and interests existing then as now. Yet just as -certain ways of discerning facts and estimating their importance -distinguish our own time, making it an "age" or epoch, so in spite of -diversity and conflict, the same was true of the mediaeval period. From -the ninth to the fourteenth century, inter-related processes of thought, -beliefs, and standards prevailed and imparted a spiritual colour to the -time. While not affecting all men equally, these spiritual habits tended -to dominate the minds and tempers of those men who were the arbiters of -opinion, for example, the church dignitaries, or the -theologian-philosophers. Men who thought effectively, or upon whom it fell -to decide for others, or to construct or imagine for them, such, whether -pleasure-loving, secularly ambitious, or immersed in contemplation of the -life beyond the grave, accepted certain beliefs, recognized certain -authoritatively prescribed ideals of conduct and well-being, and did not -reject the processes of proof supporting them. - -The causes making the Middle Ages a characterizable period in human -history have been scanned. We observed the antecedent influences as they -finally took form and temper in the intellectual atmosphere of the -latter-day pagan world and the cognate mentalities of the Church Fathers. -We followed the pre-Christian Latinizing of Provence, Spain, Gaul, and the -diffusion of Christianity throughout the same countries, where, save for -sporadic dispossession, Christianity and Latin were to continue, and -become, in the course of centuries, mediaeval and Romance. As waves of -barbarism washed over the somewhat decadent society of Italy and her Latin -daughters, we saw a new ignorance setting a final seal upon the inability -of these epigoni to emulate bygone achievements. Plainly there was need of -effort to rescue the _disjecta membra_ of the antique and Christian -heritages. The wreckers were famous men, young Boëthius, old Cassiodorus, -the great pope Gregory, and princely Isidore. For their own people they -were gatherers and conservers; but they proved veritable transmitters for -Franks, Anglo-Saxons and Germans, who were made acquainted with -Christianity and Latinity between the sixth and the ninth centuries, the -period in the course of which the Merovingian kingdoms were superseded by -the Carolingian Empire. - -With the Carolingian period the Middles Ages unquestionably are upon us. -The factors and material of mediaeval development, howsoever they have -come into conjunction, are found in interplay. It was for the mediaeval -peoples, now in presence of their spiritual fortunes, to grow and draw -from life. Their task, as has appeared from many points of view, was to -master the Christian and antique material, and change its substance into -personal faculty. Under different guises this task was for all, whether -living in Italy or dwelling where the antique had weaker root or had been -newly introduced. - -This Carolingian time of so much sheer introduction to the teaching of the -past presented little intellectual discrimination. That would come very -gradually, when men had mastered their lesson and could set themselves to -further study of the parts suited to their taste. Nevertheless, there was -even in the Carolingian period another sort of discrimination, towards -which men's consciences were drawn by the contrast between their antique -and Christian heritages, and because the latter held a criterion of -selection and rejection, touching all the elements of human life. - -Whoever reflects upon his life and its compass of thought, of inclination, -of passion, action, and capacity for happiness or desolation, is likely to -consider how he may best harmonize its elements. He will have to choose -and reject; and within him may arise a conflict which he must bring to -reconcilement if he will have peace. He may need to sacrifice certain of -his impulses or even rational desires. As with a thoughtful individual, so -with thoughtful people of an epoch, among whom like standards of -discrimination may be found prevailing. The ninth century received, with -patristic Christianity, a standard of selection and rejection. In -conformity with it, men, century after century, were to make their choice, -and try to bring their lives to a discriminating unity and certain peace. -Yet in every mediaeval century the soul's peace was broken in ways -demanding other modes of reconcilement. - -What profiteth a man to gain the world and lose his eternal life? Here was -the Gospel basis of the matter. And, following their conception of -Christ's teaching, the Fathers of the Church elaborated and defined the -conditions of attainment of eternal life with God, which was salvation. -This was man's whole good, embracing every valid and righteous element of -life. Thus it had been with Christ; thus it was with Augustine; thus it -was with Benedict of Nursia and Gregory the Great; only in Benedict and -Gregory the salvation which represented the true and uncorrupt life of man -on earth, as well as the assured preparation for eternal life with God, -had shrunken from the universality of Christ, and even from the fulness of -desire with which Augustine sought to know God and the soul. In these -later men the conception of salvation had contracted through ascetic -exclusion and barbaric fear. - -Yet with Benedict and Gregory, in whom there was much constructive sanity, -and indeed with all men who were not maniacally constrained, there was -recognition that salvation was of the mind as well as through faith and -love, or abhorrent fear. It is necessary to know the truth; and surely it -is absolutely good to desire to know the truth forever, without the -cumbrances of fleshly mortality. This desire is a true part of everlasting -life. Through it Origen, Hilary of Poictiers, Augustine largely, and after -them the great scholastics with Dante at their close, achieved salvation. - -But why should one desire to know the truth utterly and forever, were not -the truth desirable, lovable? Naturally one loves that which through -desire and effort one has come to know. Love is required and also faith by -him who will have and know the salvation which is eternal life; the -emotions must take active part. Yet salvation comes not through the -unguided sense-desiderative nature. It is for reason to direct passionate -desire, and raise it to desire rationally approved, which is volition. - -Thus salvation not only requires the action of the whole man, but is in -and of his entire nature. It presents a unity primarily because of its -agreement with the will of God, and then because of its unqualified and -universal insistence that it, salvation, life eternal, be set absolutely -first in man's endeavour. What indeed could be more irrational, and more -loveless and faithless, than that any desire should prevail over the -entire good of man and the will of God as well? Oneness and peace consist -in singleness of purpose and endeavour for salvation. Herein lies the -standard of conduct and of discrimination as touching every element of -mortal life. - -With mediaeval men, the application of the criterion of salvation depended -on how the will of God for man, and man's accordant conduct, was -conceived. What kind of conduct, what elements of the intellectual and -emotional life were proper for the Kingdom of Heaven? What matters barred -the way, or were unfit for the eternal spiritual state? The history of -Christian thought lies within these queries. An authoritative consensus of -opinion was represented by the Church at large, holding from century to -century a _juste milieu_ of doctrine, by no means lax and yet not going to -ascetic extremes. Seemingly the Church maintained varying standards of -conduct for different orders of men. Yet in truth it was applying one -standard according to the responsibilities of individuals and their vows. - -The Church (meaning, for our purpose, the authoritative consensus of -mediaeval ecclesiastical or religious approvals) always upheld as the -ideal of perfect living the religious life, led under the sanction and -guidance of some recognized monastic _regula_. So lived monks and nuns, -and in more extreme or sporadic instances, anchorites and _reclusae_. The -main peril of this strait and narrow path was its forsaking, the breaking -of its vows. Less austerely guarded and exposed to further dangers were -the secular clergy, living in the world, occupied with the care of lay -souls, and with other cares that hardly touched salvation. The world -avowedly, the flesh in reality, and the devil in all probability, beset -the souls of bishops and other clergy. In view of their exposed positions -"in the world," a less austerely ascetic life was expected of the -seculars, whose lapses from absolute holiness God might--or perhaps might -not--condone. - -Around, and for the most part below, regulars and seculars were the laity -of both sexes, of all ages, positions, and degrees of instruction or -ignorance. They had taken no vows of utter devotion to God's service, and -were expected to marry, beget children, fight and barter, and fend for -themselves amid the temptations and exigencies of affairs. Well for them -indeed if they could live in communion with the Church, and die repentant -and absolved, eligible for purgatory. - -For all these kinds of men and women like virtues were prescribed, -although their fulfilment was looked for with varying degrees of -expectation. For instance, the distinctly theological virtues, faith, -hope, and charity, especially the first, could not be completely attained -by the ignorance and imperfect consecration of laymen. The vices, -likewise, were the same for all, pride, anger, hypocrisy, and the rest; -only with married people a venial unchastity was sacramentally declared -not to constitute mortal sin. For this one case, human weakness, also -mankind's necessity, was recognized; while, in practice, the Church, -through its boundless opportunities for penitence and absolution, -mercifully condoned all delinquency save obstinate pride, impenitence, and -disbelief. - -These were the bare poles ethical of the orthodox mediaeval Christian -scheme. How as to its intellectual and emotional inclusiveness? The -many-phased interest of the mind, _i.e._ the desire to know, was in -principle accepted, but with the condition that the ultimate end of -knowledge should be the attainment of salvation. It was stated and -re-emphasized by well-nigh every type of mediaeval thinker, that Theology -was the queen of sciences, and her service alone justified her handmaids. -All knowledge should make for the knowledge of God, and enlarge the soul's -relationship to its Creator and Judge. "He that is not with me is against -me." Knowledge which does not aid man to know his God and save his soul, -all intellectual pursuits which are not loyal to this end, minister to the -obstinacy and vainglory of man, stiff-necked, disobedient, unsubmissive to -the will of God. Knowledge is justified or condemned according to its -ultimate purpose. Likewise every deed, business, occupation, which can -fill out the active life of man. As they make for Christ and salvation, -the functions of ruler, warrior, lawyer, artisan, priest, are justified -and blessed--or the reverse. - -But how as to the appetites and the emotions? How as to love, between the -sexes, parent and child, among friends? The standard of discrimination is -still the same, though its application vary. Appetite for food, if -unrestrained, is gluttony; it must be held from hindering the great end. -One must guard against love's obsession, against sense-passion, which is -so forgetful of the ultimate good: concupiscence is sinful. Through bodily -begetting, the taint of original sin is transmitted; and in all carnal -desire, though sanctioned by the marriage sacrament, is lust and spiritual -forgetfulness. When in fornication and adultery its acts contravene God's -law, they are mortal sins which will, if unabsolved, cast the sinner into -hell. - -Few men in the Middle Ages were insensible to their future lot, and -therefore the criterion of salvation unto eternal life would rarely be -rejected. But often there was conflict within the soul before it -acquiesced in what it felt compelled to recognize; and sometimes there was -clear revolt against current convictions, or practical insistence that a -larger volume of the elements of human nature were fit for life eternal. - -Conflict before acquiescence had agitated the natures of sainted Fathers -of the Church, who marked out the path to salvation which the Middle Ages -were to tread. One thinks at once of Jerome's never-forgotten dream of -exclusion from Paradise because of too great delight in classic reading. -Another phase was Augustine's, set forth somewhat retrospectively in his -_Confessions_. Therein, as would seem, the drawings of the flesh were most -importunate. Yet not without sighs and waverings did the _mind_ of -Augustine settle to its purpose of knowing only God and the soul. At all -events the chafings of mortal curiosity, the promptings of cultivated -taste, and the cravings of the flesh, were the moving forces of the -Psychomachia which passed with Patristic Christianity to the Middle Ages. -Thousands upon thousands of ardent souls were to experience this conflict -before convincing themselves that classic studies should be followed only -as they led heavenward, and that carnal love was an evil thing which, even -when sacramentally sanctioned, might deflect the soul. - -The revolt against the authoritatively accepted standard declared itself -along the same lines of conflict, but did not end in acquiescence and -renunciation. It contended rather for a peace and reconcilement which -should include much that was looked upon askance. It was not always -violent, and might be dumb to the verge of unconsciousness, merely a tacit -departure from standards more universally recognized than followed. - -There were countless instances of this silent departure from the standard -of salvation. With cultivated men, it realized itself in classical -studies, as with Hildebert of Le Mans or John of Salisbury. It does not -appear that either of them experienced qualms of conscience or suffered -rebuke from their brethren. No more did Gerbert, an earlier instance of -catholic interest in profane knowledge, though legends of questionable -practices were to encircle his fame. - -Other men pursued knowledge, rational or physical, in such a way as to -rouse hostile attention to its irrelevancy or repugnancy to saving faith, -and this even in spite of formal demonstration by the investigator--Roger -Bacon is in our mind--of the advantage of his researches to the Queen -Theology. Bacon might not have been so suspect to his brethren, and his -demonstration of the theological serviceableness of natural knowledge -would have passed, had he not put forth bristling manifestos denouncing -the blind acceptance of custom and authority. Moreover, the obvious -tendencies of methods of investigation advocated by him countered methods -of faith; for the mediaeval and patristic conception of salvation, -whatever collateral supports it might find in reason, was founded on the -authority of revelation. - -Indeed it was the lifting up of the standard of rational investigation -which distinguished the veritable revolt from those preliminary inner -conflicts which often strengthened final acquiescence. And it was the -obstinate elevation of one's individual wisdom (as it appeared to the -orthodox) that separated the accredited supporters of the Church among -theologians and philosophers, from those who were suspect. We mark the -line of the latter reaching back through Abaelard to Eriugena. Such men, -although possibly narrower in their intellectual interests than some who -more surely abode within the Church's pale, may be held as broader in -principle. For inasmuch as they tended to set reason above authority, it -would seem that there was no bound to their pursuit of rational knowledge, -wherewith to expand and fortify their reason. - -But if the intellectual side of man pressed upon the absolutism of the -standard of salvation, more belligerent was the insistency of love--not of -the Crucified. To the Church's disparagement of the flesh, love made -answer openly, not slinking behind hedges or closed doors, nor even -sheltering itself within wedlock's lawfulness. It, love, without regard to -priestly sanction, proclaimed itself a counter-principle of worth. The -love of man for woman was to be an inspiration to high deeds and noble -living as well as a source of ennobling power. It presented an ideal for -knights and poets. It could confer no immortality on lovers save that of -undying fame: but it promised the highest happiness and worth in mortal -life. If only knights and ladies might not have grown old, the supremacy -of love and its emprize would have been impregnable. But age must come, -and the ghastly mediaeval fear of death was like to drive lover and -mistress at the last within some convent refuge. Fear brought compunction -and perhaps its tears. Renunciation of the joy of life seemed a fit -penance to disarm the Judge's wrath. So at the end of life the ideal of -love was prone to make surrender to salvation. Asceticism even enters its -literature, as with the monkish Galahad. There was, however, another way -of reconcilement between the carnal and the spiritual, the secular and the -eternal, by which the secular and carnal were transformed to symbols of -the spiritual and eternal--the way of the _Vita nuova_ and the _Divina -Commedia_, as we shall see. - -So in spite of conflicts or silent treasons within the natures of many who -fought beneath the Christian banner, in spite of open mutinies of the mind -and declared revolts of the heart, salvation remained the triumphant -standard of discrimination by which the elements of mediaeval life were to -be esteemed or rejected. What then were these elements to which this -standard, or deflections from it, should apply? How specify their -mediaeval guise and character? It would be possible to pass in review -synoptically the contents of this work. We might return, and then once -more travel hitherward over the mediaeval path, the many paths and byways -of mediaeval life. We might follow and again see applied--or -unapplied--these standards of discrimination, salvation over all, and the -deviations of pretended acquiescence or subconscious departure. We might -perhaps make one final attempt to draw the currents of mediaeval life -together, or observe the angles of their divergence, and note once more -the disparity of taste and interest making so motley the mediaeval -picture. But this has been done so excellently, in colours of life, and -presented in the person of a man in whom mediaeval thought and feeling -were whole, organic, living--an achievement by the Artist moving the -antecedent scheme of things which made this man Dante what he was. We -shall find in him the conflict, the silent departures, and the -reconcilement at last of recalcitrant elements brought within salvation as -the standard of universal discrimination. Dante accomplishes this -reconcilement in personal yet full mediaeval manner by transmuting the -material to the spiritual, the mortal to the eternal, through the -instrumentality of symbolism. He is not merely mediaeval; he is the end of -the mediaeval development and the proper issue of the mediaeval genius. - -Yes, there is unity throughout the diversity of mediaeval life; and Dante -is the proof. For the elements of mediaeval growth combine in him, -demonstrating their congruity by working together in the stature of the -full-grown mediaeval man. When the contents of patristic Christianity and -the surviving antique culture had been conceived anew, and had been felt -as well, and novel forms of sentiment evolved, at last comes Dante to -possess the whole, to think it, feel it, visualize its sum, and make of it -a poem. He had mastered the field of mediaeval knowledge, diligently -cultivating parts of it, like the Graeco-Arabian astronomy; he thought and -reasoned in the terms and assumptions of scholastic (chiefly -Thomist-Aristotelian) philosophy; his intellectual interests were -mediaeval; he felt the mediaeval reverence for the past, being impassioned -with the ancient greatness of Rome and the lineage of virtue and authority -moving from it to him and thirteenth-century Italy and the already -shattered Holy Roman Empire. He took earnest joy in the Latin Classics, -approaching them from mediaeval points of view, accepting their contents -uncritically. He was affected with the preciosity of courtly or chivalric -love, which Italy had made her own along with the songs of the Troubadours -and the poetry of northern France. His emotions flowed in channels of -current convention, save that they overfilled them; this was true as to -his early love, and true as to his final range of religious and poetic -feeling. His was the emotion and the cruelty of mediaeval religious -conviction; while in his mind (so worked the genius of symbolism) every -fact's apparent meaning was clothed with the significance of other modes -of truth. - -Dante was also an Italian of the period in which he lived; and he was a -marvellous poet. One may note in him what was mediaeval, what was -specifically Italian, and what, apparently, was personal. This scholar -could not but draw his education, his views of life and death, his -dominant inclinations and the large currents of his purpose, from the -antecedent mediaeval period and the still greater past which had worked -upon it so mightily. His Italian nature and environment gave point and -piquancy and very concrete life to these mediaeval elements; and his -personal genius produced from it all a supreme poetic creation. - -The Italian part of Dante comes between the mediaeval and the personal, as -species comes between the genus and the individual. The tremendous feeling -which he discloses for the Roman past seems, in him, specifically Italian: -child of Italy, he holds himself a Latin and a direct heir of the -Republic. Yet often his attitude toward the antique will be that of -mediaeval men in general, as in his disposition to accept ancient myth for -fact; while his own genius appears in his beautifully apt appropriation of -the Virgilian incident or image; wherein he excels his "Mantuan" master, -whose borrowings from Homer were not always felicitous. Frequently the -specifically Italian in Dante, his yearning hate of Florence, for example, -may scarcely be distinguished from his personal temper; but its civic -bitterness is different from the feudal animosities or promiscuous rages -which were more generically mediaeval. As a lighter example, there are -three lines in the fourth canto of the _Purgatorio_ which do not reflect -the Middle Ages, nor yet pertain to Dante's character, but are, we feel, -Italian. They are these: "Thither we drew; and there were persons who were -staying in the shadow behind the rock, as one through indolence sets -himself to stay." - -Again, Dante's arguments in the _De monarchia_[672] seem to be those of an -Italian Ghibelline. Yet beyond his intense realization of Italy's direct -succession to the Roman past, his reasoning is scholastic and mediaeval, -or springs occasionally from his own reflections. The Italian contribution -to the book tends to coalesce either with the general or the personal -elements. Dante argues that the rewards or fruits of virtue belonged to -the Roman people because of the pre-eminent virtue, high lineage, and -royal marriage-connections, of their ancestor Aeneas.[673] Here, of -course, the statements of Virgil are accepted literally, and one notes -that while the argument is mediaeval in its absurdity, it will be made -Italian in its application. Likewise his further arguments making for the -same conclusion, however Italianized in their pointing, are mediaeval, or -patristic, in their provenance: for example, that the Roman Empire was -divinely helped by miracles; that the divine arbitrament decided the -world-struggle or _duellum_ in its favour; and that Christ was born and -suffered legally to redeem mankind under the Empire's authority and -jurisdiction.[674] Moreover, in refuting the very mediaeval papal -arguments from "the keys," from "the two swords," and from the analogy of -the sun and moon, Dante himself reasons scholastically.[675] - -The _De vulgari eloquentia_ illustrates the difference between Dante -accepting and reproducing mediaeval views, and Dante thinking for himself. -In opening he speaks of mixing the stronger potions of others with the -water of his own talent, to make a beverage of sweetest hydromel--we have -heard such phrases before! Then the first chapters give the current ideas -touching the nature and origin of speech, and describe the confusion of -language at the building of Babel: each group of workmen engaged in the -same sort of work found themselves speaking a new tongue understood only -by themselves; while the sacred Hebrew speech endured with that seed of -Shem who had taken no part in the impious construction. After this -foolishness, the eighth chapter of Book I. becomes startlingly intelligent -as Dante discusses the contemporary Romance tongues of Europe and takes up -the _idioma_ which uses the particle _si_. Out of its many dialects he -detaches his thought of a _volgare_, a mother tongue, which shall be the -illustrious, noble, and courtly speech in Latium, and shall seem to be of -every Latian city and yet of none, and afford a standard by which the -speech of each city may be criticized. The mediaeval period offers no such -penetrating linguistic observation; and in the _De Vulgari Eloquentia_, as -in the _Convito_, Dante is deeply conscious of the worth of the Romance -vernacular. - -Written in the _volgare_, the style of the latter nondescript work bears -curious likeness to scientific Latin writing. The Latin scholastic thought -shows plainly through this involved and scholastic _volgare_, while the -scholastic substance is rendered in a scarcely altered medium. The -_Convito_ is indeed a curious work which one need not lament that Dante -did not carry out to its mediaeval interminableness in fourteen books. The -four that he wrote suffice to show its futility and apparent confusion in -conception and form. Besides incidentally explaining the thought of the -idyllic _Vita nuova_, it professed to be a commentary upon fourteen of -Dante's canzone, the meaning of which had been misunderstood. Indeed they -had been suspected of disclosing a passion bearing a morganatic -relationship to the love of Beatrice. Truly understood they referred to -that love which is the love of knowledge, philosophy to wit; and their -commentary should expound that, and might properly set forth the contents -of the Seven Liberal Arts and the higher divine reaches of knowledge. The -_Convito_ seems also to mark a stage in Dante's life: the time perhaps -when he turned, or imagined himself as turning, to philosophy for -consolation in youthful grief, or the time perhaps when his nature looked -coldly upon its early faith and sought to stay itself with rational -knowledge. The book might thus seem a _De consolatione philosophiae_, -after the temper, if not the manner, of Boëthius' work, which then was -much in Dante's mind. Yet it was to be a setting forth of knowledge for -the ignorant, a sort of _Summa contra Gentiles_, as is hinted in the last -completed chapter. These three purposes fall in with the fact that the -work was apparently the expression of Dante's intellectual nature, and of -his spiritual condition between the experience of the _Vita nuova_ and the -time or state of the _Commedia_.[676] - -Certainly the _Convito_ gives evidence touching the writer's mental -processes and the interests of his mind. Except for its lofty advocacy of -the _volgare_ and its personal apologetic references, it contains little -that is not blankly mediaeval. And had it kept on to its completion, so as -to have become no torso, but a full _Summa_ or _Tesoro_ of liberal -knowledge, its whimsical form as a commentary upon canzone would have made -it one of the most bizarre of mediaeval compositions. One should not take -this most repellent of Dante's writings as an adequate expression of the -intellectual side of his nature; though a significant phrase may be drawn -from it: "Philosophy is a loving use of wisdom (_uno amoroso uso di -sapienza_) which chiefly is in God, since in Him is utmost wisdom, utmost -love, and utmost actuality."[677] A loving use of wisdom--with Dante the -pursuit of knowledge was no mere intellectual search, but a pilgrimage of -the whole nature, loving heart as well as knowing mind, and the working -virtues too. This pilgrimage is set forth in the _Commedia_, perhaps the -supreme creation of the Middle Ages, and a work that by reason of the -beautiful affinity of its speech with Latin,[678] exquisitely expressed -the matters which in Latin had been coming to formulation through the -mediaeval centuries. - -The _Commedia_ (_Inferno_, _Purgatorio_, _Paradiso_) is a _Summa_, a -_Summa salvationis_, a sum of saving knowledge. It is such just as surely -as the final work of Aquinas is a _Summa theologiae_. But Aquinas was the -supreme mediaeval theologian-philosopher, while Dante was the supreme -theologian-poet; and with both Aquinas and Dante, theology includes the -knowledge of all things, but chiefly of man in relation to God. Such was -the matter of the _divina scientia_ of Thomas, and such was the subject of -the _Commedia_, which was soon recognized as the _Divina Commedia_ in the -very sense in which Theology was the divine science. The _Summa_ of Thomas -was _scientia_ not only in substance, but in form; the _Commedia_ was -_scientia_, or _sapientia_, in substance, while in form it was a poem, the -epic of man the pilgrim of salvation. In every sense, Aristotelian and -otherwise, it was a work of art; and herein if we cannot compare it with a -_Summa_, we may certainly liken it to a Cathedral, which also was a work -of art and a _Summa salvationis_ wrought in stone. For a Cathedral--it is -the great French type we have in mind--was a _Summa_ of saving knowledge, -as well as a place for saving acts. And presenting the substance of -knowledge in the forms of art, very true art, the matter of which had long -been pondered on and loved or hated, the Cathedral in its feeling and -beauty, as well as in the order of its manifested thought, was a -_Commedia_; for it too was a poem with a happy ending, at least for those -who should be saved. - -The Cathedral had grown from dumb barrel-vaulted Romanesque to Gothic, -speaking in all the terms of sculpture and painted glass. It grew out of -its antecedents. The _Commedia_ rested upon the entire evolution of the -Middle Ages. Therein had lain its spiritual preparation. To be sure it had -its casual forerunners (_precursori_): narratives, real or feigned, of men -faring to the regions of the dead.[679] But these signified little; for -everywhere thoughts of the other life pressed upon men's minds: fear of it -blanched their hearts; its heavenly or hellish messengers had been seen, -and not a few men dreamed that they had walked within those gates and -witnessed clanging horrors or purgatorial pain. Heaven they had more -rarely visited. - -Dante gave little attention to any so-called "forerunners," save only two, -Paul and Virgil. The former was a warrant for the poet's reticence as to -the manner of his ascent to Heaven;[680] the latter supplied much of his -scheme of Hell. Yet there were one or two others possessed of some -affinity of soul with the great Florentine, who perhaps knew nothing of -them. One of these was Hildegard of Bingen, with her vision of the spirits -in the cloud, and her pungent sights of the bitterness of the pains of -hell.[681] Another sort of affinity is disclosed in the allegorical -_Anticlaudianus_ of Alanus de Insulis, in which Reason can take -_Prudentia_ just so far upon her heavenly journey, and then gives place to -Theology, even as Virgil, symbol of rational wisdom, gives place to -Beatrice at the summit of the Mount of Purgatory.[682] Dante might have -drawn still more enlightenment from the _De sacramentis_ of Hugo of St. -Victor, in which the rational basis of the universal scheme of things is -shown to lie in the principle of allegorical intendment. Yet one finds few -traces of Hugo in Dante except through Hugo's pupil, Richard, whose works -he had read. That such apt forerunners should scarcely have affected him -shows how he was taught and inspired, not by individuals, but by the -entire Middle Ages. - -One observes mediaeval characteristics in the _Commedia_ raised to a -higher power. The mediaeval period was marked by contrasts of quality and -of conduct such as cannot be found in the antique or the modern age. And -what other poem can vie with the _Commedia_ in contrasts of the beautiful -and the loathsome, the heavenly and the hellish, exquisite refinement of -expression and lapses into the reverse,[683] love and hate, pity and -cruelty, reverence and disdain? These contrasts not only are presented by -the story; they evince themselves in the character of the author. Many -scenes of the _Inferno_ are loathsome:[684] Dante's own words and conduct -there may be cruel and hateful[685] or show tender pity; and every reader -knows the poetic beauty which glorifies the _Paradiso_, renders lovely the -_Purgatorio_, and ever and anon breaks through the gloom of Hell. - -Another mediaeval quality, sublimated in Dante's poem, is that of -elaborate plan, intended symmetry of composition, the balance of one -incident or subject against another.[686] And finally one observes the -mediaeval inclusiveness which belongs to the scope and purpose of the -_Commedia_ as a _Summa_ of salvation. Dante brings in everything that can -illuminate and fill out his theme. Even as the _Summa_ of St. Thomas, so -the _Commedia_ must present a whole doctrinal scheme of salvation, and -leave no loopholes, loose ends, broken links of argument or explanation. - -The substance of the _Commedia_, practically its whole content of thought, -opinion, sentiment, had source in the mediaeval store of antique culture -and the partly affiliated, if not partly derivative, Latin Christianity. -The mediaeval appreciation of the Classics, and of the contents of ancient -philosophy, is not to be so very sharply distinguished from the attitude -of the fifteenth or sixteenth, nay, if one will, the eighteenth, century, -when the _Federalist_ in the young inchoately United States, and many an -orator in the revolutionary assemblies of France, quoted Cicero and -Plutarch as arbiters of civic expediency. Nevertheless, if we choose to -recognize deference to ancient opinion, acceptance of antique myth and -poetry as fact,[687] unbounded admiration for a shadowy and much distorted -ancient world, as characterizing the mediaeval attitude toward whatever -once belonged to Rome and Greece, then we must say that such also is -Dante's attitude, scholar as he was;[688] and that in his use of the -Classics he differed from other mediaeval men only in so far as above them -all he was a poet. - -Lines of illustrative examples begin with the opening canto of the -_Inferno_, where Dante addresses Virgil as _famoso saggio_, an appellative -strictly corresponding with the current mediaeval view of the "Mantuan." -Mediaeval also is the grouping of the great poets who rise to meet Virgil, -first Homer, then _Orazio satiro_, and Ovid and Lucan.[689] More narrowly -mediaeval, that is, pertaining particularly to the thirteenth century, is -Dante's profound reverence for the authority of Aristotle, _il maestro di -color che sanno_.[690] It may be that the poet's sense of the enormous, -_elect_, importance of Aeneas,[691] and his putting Rhipeus, most -righteous of the Trojans, as the fifth regal spirit in the Eagle's -eye,[692] belonged more especially to Dante as the Ghibelline author of -the _De monarchia_. But generically mediaeval was his acceptance of -antique myth for fact, a most curious instance of which is his referring -to the consuming of Meleager with the consuming of the brand, to -illustrate a point of physiological psychology.[693] Antique heroes, even -monsters, seem as real to him as the people of Scripture and history. It -is not, however, his mediaevalism, but his own greatness that enables him -to lift his treatment of them to the level of their presentation in the -Classics. Noble as an antique demigod is the damned Jason, silent and -tearless, among the scourged;[694] and Ulysses is as great in the tale he -tells from out the lambent flame as he was in the palace of Alcinoos, -telling the tale which Dante never read.[695] - -The poet, especially in the _Purgatorio_, constantly balances moral -examples alternately drawn from pagan and sacred story. This propensity -was quite mediaeval; for throughout the Middle Ages the antique authority -was used to fortify or parallel the Christian argument. Yet herein, as -always, Dante is Dante as well as a mediaeval man; and his moral examples, -for the aid of souls who are purging themselves for Heaven, are -interesting and curious enough. On the pavement of the first ledge of -Purgatory, Lucifer is figured falling from Heaven and Briareus transfixed -by the bolt of Jove; then Nimrod, Niobe, Saul, Arachne, Rehoboam, Eriphyle -and Sennacherib, the Assyrians routed after Holophernes' death, and Troy -in ashes.[696] On the third ledge, as instances of gentle forgivingness, -he sees in vision the Virgin Mary, and then appear Peisistratus (tyrant of -Athens) refusing to avenge himself, and Stephen asking pardon for his -slayers.[697] But the most wonderful instance of this combining of the -Christian and the antique, each at its height of feeling, occurs in the -thirtieth canto of the _Purgatorio_, where angels herald the appearance of -Beatrice with the chant, _Benedictus qui venis_, and, as they scatter -flowers, sing _Manibus o date lilia plenis_. This unison of the hail to -Christ upon His sacrificial entry into Jerusalem and the Virgilian -heartbreak over the young Marcellus, shows how Dante rose in his -combinings, and how potent an element of his imagination was the -antique.[698] - -Of course the plan of Hell reflects the sixth Book of the _Aeneid_, and -throughout the whole _Commedia_ the Virgilian phrase rises aptly to the -poet's lips. "Thou wouldst that I renew the desperate grief which presses -my heart even before I put it into words," says Ugolino, nearly as Aeneas -speaks to Dido.[699] And in the _Paradiso_ the power of the Dantesque -reminiscence rouses the reader, spiritually as it were, to emulate the -glorious ones who passed to Colchos.[700] A more desperate passage was the -lot of those who must drop from Acheron's bank into Charon's boat;--the -whole scene here is quite reminiscent of Virgil. The simile: - - "Quam multa in silvis auctumni frigore primo - Lapsa cadunt folia," - -is even beautified and made more pregnant with significance in Dante's - - "Come d'autunno si levan le foglie - L'una appresso dell'altra...."[701] - -On the other hand, the threefold attempt of Aeneas to embrace Anchises is -stripped of its beautiful dream-simile in Dante's use.[702] A lovelier bit -of borrowing is that of the quick springing up again of the rush, the -symbol of humility, _l'umile pianta_, with which the poet is girt before -proceeding up the Mount of Purgatory.[703] - -With Dante the pagan antique represented much that was philosophically -true, if not veritably divine. In his mind, apparently, the heathen good -stood for the Christian good, and the conflict of the heathen deities with -Titan monsters symbolized, if indeed it did not continue to make part of, -the Christian struggle against the power of sin.[704] We may be jarred by -the apostrophe: - - "... O sommo Giove, - Che fosti in terra per noi crucifisso."[705] - -But this is a kind of Christian-antique phrase by no means unexampled in -mediaeval poetry. And we feel the poetic breadth and beauty of the -invocation in which Apollo symbolizes or represents, exactly what we will -not presume to say, but at all events some veritable spiritual power, as -Minerva does, apparently, in another passage.[706] In such instances the -antique image which beautifies the poem is transfigured to a Christian -symbol, if it does not present actual truth. - -Yet however universally Dante's mind was solicited by the antique matter -and his poet's nature charmed, he was profoundly and mediaevally -Christian. The _Commedia_ is a mediaeval Christian poem. Its fabric, -springing from the life of earth, enfolds the threefold quasi-other world -of damned, of purging, and of finally purified, spirits. It is dramatic -and doctrinal. Its drama of action and suffering, like the narratives of -Scripture, offers literal fact, moral teaching, and allegorical or -spiritual significance. The doctrinal contents are held partly within the -poem's dramatic action and partly in expositions which are not fused in -the drama. Thus whatever else it is, the poem is a _Summa_ of saving -doctrine, which is driven home by illustrations of the sovereign good and -abysmal ill coming to man under the providence of God. One may perhaps -discern a twofold purpose in it, since the poet works out his own -salvation and gives precepts and examples to aid others and help truth and -righteousness on earth. The subject is man as rewarded or punished -eternally by God--says Dante in the letter to Can Grande. This subject -could hardly be conceived as veritable, and still less could it be -executed, by a poet who had no care for the effect of his poem upon men. -Dante had such care. But whether he, who was first and always a poet, -wrote the _Commedia_ in order to lift others out of error to salvation, or -even in order to work out his own salvation,--let him say who knows the -mind of Dante. No divination, however, is required to trace the course of -the saving teaching, which, whether dramatically exemplified or expounded -in doctrinal statement, is embodied in the great poem; nor is it hard to -note how Dante drew its substance from the mediaeval past. - -The _Inferno_, which is the most dramatic and realistic, "Dantesque," part -of the _Commedia_, and replete with terrestrial interest, is doctrinally -the least rich. Its doctrine chiefly lies in its scheme of punishment, or -divine vengeance, for different sins. Herein Dante followed no set series -like the seven deadly sins expiated in Purgatory. Neither the Church nor -authoritative writers had laid out the plan of Hell. Dante had in mind -Thomas Aquinas and Aristotle, also Cicero's _De officiis_,[707] and, -structurally, Virgil. His scheme also was affected by his own character, -situation, and aversions, and assuredly by the movement of its own -composition. At the mouth of Hell the worthless nameless ones and the -neutral angels receive their due. Then after the sad calm of the place of -the unbaptized and the great blameless heathen, the veritable Hell begins, -and the series of tortures unfold, the lightest being such as punish -incontinence, while the most awful are reserved for those fraudulent ones -who have betrayed a trust. Dante's power of presenting the humanly -loathsome does not let the progress of hellish torment fail in climax even -to the end, where Brutus, Cassius, and Judas are crunched in the dripping -mouths of Lucifer at the bottom of the lowest pit of Hell. - -The general idea of hell torments came to the poet from current beliefs -and authoritative utterances, ranging from the "outer darkness" of the -Gospel to the lurid oratory of St. Bernard. Dante's thoughts were drawn -generically from the stores of mediaeval convictions, approvals, and -imaginings: they were given to him by his epoch. Of necessity--innocently, -one may say--he made them into concrete realities because he was Dante. -Terrifying phrases and crude ghastliness were raised through his dramatic -power to living experiences. The reader goes through Hell, sees with his -own eyes, hears with his own ears, and stifles in the choking air. -Doubtless the narrative brought fear and contrition to the men of Dante's -time. But for us the disproportion of the vengeance to the crime, the -outrage of everlasting torments for momentary, even impulsive sin, is -shocking and preposterous.[708] The torments themselves present conditions -which become unthinkable when we try to conceive them as enduring -eternally. Human flesh, or implicated spirit could not last beneath them. -And as for our impulses, there is many a tortured soul with whom we would -keep company, for instance, with the excellent band of Sodomites--Priscian -(!) Brunetto Latini, and those three Florentines whose "honoured names" -the poet greets with reverence and affection.[709] One might even wish to -make a third in the flame which enwraps Diomede and Ulysses. In fact, -Dante's dramatic genius has brought the mediaeval hell to a _reductio ad -absurdum_, to our minds. - -The poet is of it too. He can pity those who touch his pity. And how great -he can be, how absolute. There is compacted in the story of Francesca all -that can be thought or felt over unhappy love. Yet Dante never doubts the -justice of the punishment he describes; sometimes he calmly or cruelly -approves. _Nel mio bel San Giovanni!_ How many thousands have quoted these -detached words to show the poet's love of his beautiful baptistery. But, -in fact, he refers to the little cylindrical places where stood the -baptizing priests, in order to bring home to the reader the size of the -holes in the burning rock from which protruded the quivering feet of -Simoniacs![710] It appears that the souls of all the damned will suffer -more when they shall again be joined to their bodies after the -resurrection.[711] - -The _Inferno_ fully exemplifies the doctrinal statement obscurely set over -the gate which shut out hope: moved by justice, the Trinity, "divine -power, supreme wisdom, primal love, created me (Hell) to endure -eternally." Dante follows this current authoritative opinion, stated by -Aquinas. Here one may repeat that Dante is the child of the Middle Ages, -rather than a disciple of any single teacher. If he follows Aquinas more -than any other scholastic, he follows Bonaventura also with breadth and -balance. These two, however, were themselves final results of lines of -previous development. Both were rational and also mystically -contemplative, though the former quality predominates in Thomas and the -latter in Bonaventura. And in Dante's poem, at the end of the _Paradiso_, -Theology, the rational apprehension of divine truth, gives place to -contemplation's loftier insight. Dante is kin to both these men; but when -he thinks, more frequently he thinks like Thomas, and the intellectual -realization of life is dominant with him. This was evident in the -_Convito_; and that the intellectual vision constitutes the substance of -the _Commedia_, becomes luminously apparent in the _Paradiso_.[712] It is -even suggested at the gate of Hell, within which the wretched people will -be seen, who have lost the good of the Intellect,[713] by which is meant -knowledge of God. - -The _Purgatorio_ presents more saving doctrine than the cantica of -damnation. Its Mount with the earthly paradise at the top, may have been -his own, but might have been taken from the Venerable Bede or Albertus -Magnus.[714] The ante-purgatory appears as a creation of the poet, -influenced by certain passages of the _Aeneid_ and by ancient disciplinary -practices which kept the penitents waiting outside the church.[715] The -teaching of the whole cantica relates to the purgation of pride, envy, -anger, _accidia_ (sloth), avarice, gluttony, lust. These are the seven -deadly sins whose _provenance_ is early monasticism.[716] Through their -purgation man is made pure and fit to mount to the stars. - -We shall not follow Dante through the _Purgatorio_ and _Paradiso_, or -observe in detail the teachings set forth and the sources whence they were -derived.[717] But a brief reference to the successive incidents and topics -of instruction will show how the _Commedia_ touches every key of saving -doctrine. The soul entering Purgatory goes seeking liberty from sin,[718] -and as a first lesson learns to detach itself from memories of the -damned.[719] It receives some slight suggestion of the limits of human -reason;[720] and is told that according to the correct teaching there is -one soul in man with several faculties.[721] It learns the risk of -repentance in the hour of death;[722] and the efficacy of the prayers of -others to help souls through their purifying expiation; also, that, after -death, souls can advance only by the aid of grace.[723] The symbolism of -the gate of Purgatory teaches the need of contrition and confession. Upon -the first ledge, the proud do penance, disciplined with examples of -humility, and through the Lord's Prayer are taught man's entire dependence -upon God. It is fitting that Pride should be the first sin expiated, since -it lies at the base of all sins in the Christian scheme. Much doctrine is -inculcated by the treatment of the different sins and the appositeness of -the hymns sung by the penitents.[724] - -Ascending the second ledge, Virgil, _i.e._ human reason, expounds the -first principles of the doctrine of that love which is of the Good.[725] -Next is set forth the theory of human free-will and the effect of the -spheres in directing human inclination--all in strict accord with the -teaching of Thomas;[726] and then, still in accord with Thomas, the fuller -nature of love (or desire) is expounded, and the allotment of purgatorial -pains in expiation of the various modes of evil desire or failure to love -aright.[727] These fitting pains are as a solace to the soul yearning to -accomplish its purgation.[728] Next, generation is explained, the creation -of the soul, and the manner of its existence after separation from the -body, according to dominant scholastic theories.[729] In the concluding -cantos of the _Purgatorio_, much Church doctrine is symbolically set forth -by the Mystic Procession and the rivers of the earthly paradise, Lethe and -Eunoe--the latter representing sacramental grace through which good works, -killed by later sins, are made to live again.[730] The earthly paradise -symbolizes the perfect happiness of life in the flesh, and the state -wherein man is fit to pass to the heavenly Paradise. - -Besides doctrine directly bearing on Salvation, the _Commedia_ contains -explanations by the way, needed to understand Dante's journey through the -earth and heavens, and give it verisimilitude. Apparently these -explanations were also intended to afford a sufficient knowledge of the -structure of the universe. The _Paradiso_ abounds in this kind of -information, largely physical and astronomical. Its first canto offers a -general statement, beautifully put, of the ordering of created things. In -this instance, the instruction is not exclusively astronomical or -physical,[731] but touches upon animated creatures, and follows Thomist -teaching. Another interesting instance is the explanation in the second -canto of the spots on the moon and then of the influence of the heavens. -Here the astronomical matter runs on into elucidations touching human -nature, even that human nature which is to be saved through saving -doctrine. In this way the Christian-Thomist-Dantesque scheme of knowledge -holds together. The _Commedia_ is the pilgrimage of the soul after all -wisdom, and includes, implicitly at least, the matter of the _Convito_. - -The _Paradiso_ contains the chief store of saving knowledge. It sets forth -the ultimate problems of human life and divine salvation, with due -emphasis laid upon the limitations of human understanding. Dante, -conscious of the strenuousness of his high argument, warns off all but the -chosen few. - -A first point learned in the heavenly voyage is that no soul in Paradise -desires aught save what it has; since such desire would contravene the -will of God. Paradise is everywhere in Heaven, though the divine grace -rains not upon all in one mode.[732] Beatified souls do not dwell in any -particular star, though Plato seems to say so. Scripture condescends to -figure the intelligible under the guise of sensible forms, as Plato may -have done.[733] Broken vows and their reparation are now considered. Then -the history of the Roman Eagle brings out the fact that Christ was -crucified under Tiberius and His death avenged by Titus, which leads on to -the explanation of the Fall and the Redemption, occupying the seventh -canto. The next offers comment upon the divine goodness and the diversity -of human lots; and shows how the bitter may rise from the sweet. With deep -consistency the poet exclaims against the insensate toilsome reasonings -through which mortals beat their wings downward, away from God.[734] - -In canto thirteen the reader is enlightened regarding the wisdom of Adam, -of Solomon, and of Christ; and then as to the existence of the beatified -soul before and after it is clothed with the glorified body of the -Resurrection.[735] Incidentally the justice of eternal punishment is -adverted to.[736] The depth of the divine righteousness is next -presented,[737] and its application to the heathen, with illustrations of -God's saving ways, in the instances of certain princes who loved -righteousness, including Trajan and the Trojan Rhipeus.[738] The -incomprehensibility of Predestination next receives attention. - -Now intervenes the marvellous and illuminative beauty of canto -twenty-three, preceding Dante's declaration of his creed, upon -interrogatories from the apostles, Peter, James, and John. In this way he -states the dogmatic fundamentals of the Christian Faith, and the -substantiating rôles of philosophic argument and authority.[739] After -this, the vision of the hierarchies of angels leads on to discourse upon -their creation and nature, the immediate fall of those who fell, the -exaltation of the steadfast with added grace, and the mode and measure of -their knowledge. Thomas is followed in this scholastic argument. - -With the vision of the Rose, rational theology gives place to mystic -contemplation;[740] and further visions of the divine ordering precede the -prayer to the Virgin, with which the last canto opens--that prayer so -beautiful and so expressive of mediaeval thought and feeling as to the -most kind and blessed Lady of Heaven. This prayer or hymn is made of -phrases which the mediaeval mind and heart had been recasting and -perfecting for centuries. It is almost a great _cento_, like the _Dies -Irae_. After the Lady's answering benediction, there comes to Dante, in -grace, the final mystic vision of the Trinity, enfolding all -existence--substance, accidents and their modes, bound with love in one -volume. Supreme dogmatic truth is set forth, and the furthest strainings -of reason are stilled in supersensual and super-rational vision, which -satisfies all intellectual desire. This vision, vouchsafed through the -Virgin's grace, assures the pilgrim soul: the goal is reached alike of -knowledge and salvation. - -One may say that the _Commedia_ begins and ends with the Virgin. It was -she who sent Beatrice into the gates of Hell to move Virgil--meaning human -reason--to go to Dante's aid. The prayer which obtains her benediction, -and the vision following, close the _Paradiso_. So the teaching of the -poem ends in mediaeval strains. For the Virgin was the mediaeval goddess, -beloved and universally adored, helpful in every way, and the chief aid in -bringing man to Heaven. But no more with Dante than with other mediaeval -men is she the end of worship and devotion. Her eyes are turned on God. -So are those of Beatrice, of Rachel, and of all the saints in Paradise. As -for man on earth, he is _viator_, journeying on through discipline, in -righteousness and beneficence, but above all in faith and hope and love of -God, with his eyes of knowledge and desire set on God. God is the goal, -even of the _vita activa_, which is also training and enlightenment. -Loving his brother whom he hath seen, man may learn to love -God--practising himself in love. Even Christ's parable, "Inasmuch as ye -did it unto one of the least of these," rightly interpreted, implies that -the end of human charity is God: the human charity is preparation, -obedience, means of enlightenment. The brother for whom Christ died--that -is he whom thou shalt love, and that is why thou shalt love him. In -themselves human relationships are disciplinary, ancillary, as all the -sciences are ancillary to Theology. Mediaeval religion is turned utterly -toward God; the relationship of the soul to God is its whole matter. It is -not humanitarian: not human, but _divina scientia, fides, et amor_, make -mediaeval Christianity. Thus Dante's doctrine is mediaeval. Toward God -moves the desire of the _viatores_ in Purgatory, though they still are -incidentally mindful of earth's memories. In Paradise the eyes of all the -blessed are set on Him. Because of the divine love they may for a moment -turn the eyes of their knowledge and desire to aid a fellow-creature; the -occasion past, they fix them again on God: thus the Virgin, thus Bernard, -thus Beatrice. - -As a son of the Middle Ages, Dante was possessed with the spirit of -symbolism. Allegory, with him, was not merely a way of expressing that -which might transcend direct statement: it embodied a principle of truth. -The universally accepted allegorical interpretation of Scripture justified -the view that a deeper verity lay in allegorical significance than in -literal meaning. This principle applied to other writings also. "Now since -the literal sense [of the first canzone] is sufficiently explained, it is -time to proceed to the allegorical and true interpretation."[741] - -In the _Vita Nuova_ and somewhat more lifelessly in the _Convito_, Dante -explains that it is his way to invest his poetry with a secondary or -allegorical sense. He proposes in the latter work to carry out the formal -notion of the four kinds of meaning contained in profound -writings--literal, allegorical, moral, anagogical.[742] He never holds -himself, however, to the lines of any such obsession, but is content in -practice with the literal and the broadly allegorical sense.[743] Even -then the great Florentine occasionally can be jejune enough. The -conception of the ten heavens figuring the Seven Liberal Arts along with -metaphysics, ethics, and theology, as a plan of composition for the -_Convito_,[744] was on a level with the structural symbolism of the _De -nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii_ of Capella. Yet the likening of Ethics to -the _primum mobile_ and Theology to the Empyrean has bearing on Dante's, -and the mediaeval, scheme of the sciences, among which Theology is chief. - -Allegory moulds the structure and permeates the substance of the -_Commedia_. For this Dante himself vouches in the famous dedicatory letter -to Can Grande, where his thoughts may be heard creaking scholastically, as -he describes the nature of his poem, and explains why he entitled it -_Commedia_: - - "Literally, the subject is the state of souls after death taken - simply. If, however, the work be accepted allegorically, the subject - is man, according as by merit or demerit through freedom of choice - (_arbitrii libertatem_) he is subject to Justice, rewarding or - punitive." - -This is the positive statement emanating, in all probability, from the -poet. Perhaps it is as well that he did not live to inaugurate the series -of Commentaries upon his poem, which began within a few years of his death -and show no signs of ceasing.[745] So it has been left to others to -determine the metes and bounds and special features of the _Commedia's_ -allegorical intent. The task has proved hazardous, because Dante was such -a great poet, so realistic in his visualizing and so masterful in forcing -the different phases of his many-sided thoughts to combine in concrete -creations. His drama is so living that one can hardly think it an -allegory. - -Evidently certain matters, like the Mystic Procession and its apocalyptic -appurtenances in the last cantos of the _Purgatorio_, are sheer allegory. -Such, while suited to suggest theological tenets, are formal and lifeless, -a little like the hieratic allegorical mosaics of the fourth and fifth -centuries, which were composed before Christian art had become imbued with -Christian feeling.[746] Indeed, doffing for an instant one's reverence for -the great poet, one may say that from the point of view of art and life, -Dante's symbolism becomes jejune, or at least ceases to draw us, according -as it becomes palpable allegory.[747] - -Beyond such incidents one recognizes that the general course of the poem, -its more pointed occurrences, together with its chief characters and the -scenes amid which they move, have commonly both literal and allegorical -meaning.[748] Usually it is wise not to press either side too rigorously. -The poet's mind worked in the clearly imagined setting and dramatic action -of his poem, where fact and symbolism combined in that reality which is -both art and life. Surely the _Commedia_ was completed and rendered real -and beautiful through many a touch and incident which had no allegorical -intent. Even as in a French cathedral, the main sculptured and painted -subjects have doctrinal, that is to say, allegorical, significance, -besides their literal truth; but there is also much lovely carving of -scroll and flowered ornament and beast and bird, which beautifies the -building. - -For Dante's purpose, to set out the state of disembodied spirits after -death, allegory might prove prejudicial, because of the intensity of his -artist's vision. Much of the poem's symbolism, especially in the -_Paradiso_, belongs to that unavoidable imagery to which every one is -driven when attempting to describe spiritual facts. Such symbolism, -however, when constructed with the plastic power of a Dante, may become -itself so convincing or compelling as to reduce the intended spiritual -signification to the terms of its concrete embodiment in the symbol. In -view of the carnality of most sin, one is not surprised to find the place -of punishment a converging cavity within the earth. With Dante, as with -Hildegard, the sights and torments of Hell are realistically given quite -as of course. Perhaps Dante's Mount of Purgatory begins to give us pause, -and its corniced _mise en scène_ tends to enflesh the idea of spirit and -materialize its purgation. But the limiting effect of symbolism is most -keenly felt in the _Paradiso_, notwithstanding the beauty of that cantica; -for its very concrete symbolism seems sometimes to ensphere the intended -truths of spirit in a sort of crystalline translucency. It is all a -marvellously imagined description of the state of blessed souls. Yet in -the final pure and glorious image of a white rose (_candida rosa_) the -company of the glorified spirits is so visualized as to become, surely not -theatrical, but as if assembled upon the rounding tiers of seats occupied -by an audience.[749] There are topics in which the sheer ratiocination of -Thomas is more completely spiritual than the poetic vision of Dante. - -Dante's most admirable symbolic creation was also his dearest -reality--Beatrice. And while this being in which he has immortalized his -fame and hers, is eminently the creation of his genius, the elements were -drawn from the many-chambered mediaeval past. Some issued out of the vast -matter of chivalric love, with its high heart of service and sense of its -own worth, its science, its foolish and most wise reasoning, its -preciosity of temper--Dante and his literary friends were virtuosos in -everything pertaining to its understanding.[750] This love was of the -fine-reasoning mind. The first canzone of the _Vita Nuova_ does not begin -"Donne, che sentite amore," but: "Donne, ch' avete intelletto d' amore." -Through that book love is what it never ceases to be with Dante, -_intelligenza_: - - "Intelligenza nuova, che l' Amore - Piangendo mette in lui...." - -The _piangendo_, the tears, have likewise part; without them love is not -had or even understood. The enormous sense of love's supreme worth--that -too is in Dante. It had all been with the Troubadours of Provence, with -Chrétien de Troies, and with the great Minnesingers, and had been reasoned -on, appreciated, felt and wept over, by ladies and knights who listened to -their poems. From France and Provence love and its reasonings had come to -Italy even before Dante's eyes had opened to it and other matters. - -This was one strain that entered the Beatrice of the _Vita Nuova_, of the -_Convito_, of the _Commedia_. But Beatrice is something else: she is, or -becomes, Theology, the God-given science of the divine and human. Long had -Theologia (_divina scientia_) been a queen; and even before her, -Philosophia, as with Boëthius, had been a queenly woman gowned with as -full symbolical particularity as ever the Beatrice of Dante. Indeed from -the time of the _Psychomachia_ of Prudentius to the _Roman de la Rose_ of -De Lorris and De Meun, every human quality, and many an aspect of human -circumstance, had been personified, for the most part under the forms of -gracious or seductive women. Above all of these rose, sweet, gracious, and -potent, the Virgin Queen of Heaven. It came as of course to Dante to -symbolize his conception of divine wisdom in a woman's form. The -achievement of his genius was the transfusing combination of elements of -courtly love, didactic allegory, and _divina scientia_, in a creature -before whom the whole man Dante, heart and reason and religious faith, -could stand and gaze and love and worship. - -Beatrice was his and of him always; but with the visions and experience -of that mature and grace-illuminated manhood, which expressed itself in -the _Commedia_, she comes to be much that she had not been when she lived -on earth or had just left it, and Dante was a maker of exquisite verses in -Florence; and much too that she had scarce become while the poet was -consoling himself with philosophy for his bereavement and the dulling of -his early faith. Beatrice lives and moves and has her ever more uplifted -being as the reality as well as symbol of Dante's thoughts of life. With -all first love's idealism, he loved a girl; then she, having passed from -earth, becomes the inspiration and object of address of the young maker of -sonnets and canzoni, who with such intellectual preciosity was intent on -building these verses of fine-spun sentiment. Thereafter, when he is in -darker mood, she does not altogether leave him, whatever variant attitudes -his thought and temper take. And at last the yearning self-fulfilments of -his renewed life draw together in the Beatrice of the _Commedia_. - -It is very beautiful, and the growth, as well as work, of genius; but it -is not strange. For there is no bound to the idealizing of the love which -first transfuses a youth's nature with a mortal golden flame, and awakens -it to new understanding. Out of whatever of experience of life and joy and -sorrow may come to the man, this first love may still vivify itself -anew--often in dreams--and become again living and beautiful, in tears, -and will awaken new perceptions and disclose further vistas of the -_intelligenza nuova_ which love never ceases to impart to him who has -loved. - -Dante's mind was always turning from the obvious sense-actuality of the -fact to its symbolism; which held the truer reality. With such a man it is -not strange that the beloved and adored woman, the love of whom was virtue -and enlightenment, should, when dead to earth, become that divine wisdom -which opens Heaven to the lover who would follow, for all eternity, -whither his beloved has so surely gone. No, it was not strange, but only -as wonderful as all the works of God, that she who while living had been -the spring of virtue of all kinds and meanings in the poet's breast, -should after death become the emblem, even the reality, of that whereby -man is taught how to win his heavenly salvation. Passage after passage in -the _Purgatorio_ and _Paradiso_ show that Beatrice is this _divina -scientia_, and yet has never ceased to be one whom the poet loves.[751] - -Thus it is clear that mediaeval development converges at last in Dante. -He, or his _Commedia_, might be the final _Summa_, were not he, or rather -it, the final poem. Man and work include the emotions and the intellectual -interests of the Middle Ages, embracing what had been known,--Physics, -Astronomy, Politics, History, Pagan Mythology, Christian Theology,--all -bent and moulded at last to the matter of the book. Not the contents of -the _Commedia_ is Dante's own, but the poem itself--that is his creation. - -Yet even the poem itself was a climax long led up to. The power of its -feeling had been preparing in the conceptions, even in the reasonings, -which through the centuries had been gaining ardour as they became part of -the entire natures of men and women. Thus had mediaeval thought become -emotionalized and plastic and living in poetry and art. Otherwise, even -Dante's genius could not have fused the contents of mediaeval thought into -a poem. How many passages in the _Commedia_ illustrate this--like the -lovely picture of Lia moving in the flowering meadow, with her fair hands -making her a garland. The twenty-third canto of the _Paradiso_, telling of -the triumph of Christ and the Virgin, yields a larger illustration; and -within it, as a very concrete lyric instance, floats that flower of -angelic love, the song of Gabriel circling the Lady of Heaven with its -melody, and giving quintessential utterance to the love and adoration -which the Middle Ages had intoned to the Virgin. Yes, if it be Dante's -genius, it is also the gathering emotion of the centuries, which lifts the -last cantos of the _Paradiso_ from glory to glory, and makes this closing -singing of the _Commedia_ such supreme poetry. Nor is it the emotional -element alone that reaches its final voice in Dante. Passage after passage -of the _Paradiso_ is the apotheosis of scholastic thought and ways of -stating it, the very apotheosis, for example, of those harnessed phrases -in which the line of great scholastics had endeavoured to put in words -the universalities of substance and accident and the absolute qualities -of God. - -Yet one more feature of Dante's typifying inclusiveness of the past. Its -elements exist in him at first without conscious opposition and yet not -subordinated one to another, the less worthy to those of eternal validity. -Then conflict arises; the mediaeval Psychomachia awakes in Dante. -Evidently he who wrote the _Convito_ after the _Vita Nuova_, had not -continued spiritually undisturbed. Had there come dullings of his early -faith? Did his mind seek too exclusive satisfaction in knowledge? Had he -possibly swerved a little from some high intention? The facts are veiled. -Dante wears neither his mind nor his heart upon his sleeve. Yet a -reconcilement was attained by him, though perhaps he had to fetch it out -of Hell. He achieved it in his great poem, which in its long making made -the poet into the likeness of itself. Fitness for salvation is the -ultimate criterion with Dante respecting the elements of mortal life, as -it had been through the Middle Ages. And the _Commedia_--truly the _Divina -Commedia_--while it presents the scheme of salvation for universal man, is -the achieved salvation of the poet. - - - - -INDEX - -_NOTE.--Of several references to the same matter the more important are -shown by heavy type._ - - - Abaelard, Peter, career of, ii. 342-5; - at Paris, ii. 343, 344, 383; - popularity there, ii. 119; - love for Heloïse, ii. 4-=5=, 344; - love-songs, ii. =13=, 207; - Heloïse's love for, i. 585; ii. =3=, =5=, 8, 9, =15-16=; - early relations with Heloïse, ii. 4-5; - suggestion of marriage opposed by her, ii. 6-9; - marriage, ii. 9; - suffers vengeance of Fulbert, ii. 9; - becomes a monk at St. Denis, ii. 10; - at the Paraclete, ii. 10, 344; - at Breton monastery, ii. 10; - St. Bernard's denunciations of, i. 229, 401; ii. =344-5=, =355=; - letters to, from Heloïse quoted, ii. 11-15, 17-20, 23, 24; - letters from, to Heloïse quoted, ii. 16-17, 21-3, 24-5; - closing years at Cluny, ii. 25, =26=, 345; - death of, ii. =27=, 345; - estimate of, ii. 4, 342; - rationalizing temper, i. 229; ii. =298-9=; - skill in dialectic, ii. 303, =345-6=, 353; - not an Aristotelian, ii. 369; - works on theology, ii. 352-5; - _De Unitate et Trinitate divina_, ii. 10, =298-9=, 352 _and_ _n. 3_; - _Theologia_, ii. =303-4=, 395; - _Scito te ipsum_, ii. 350-1; - _Sic et non_, i. 17; ii. =304-6=, =352=, 357; - _Dialectica_, ii. 346 _and_ _nn._, 349-50; - _Dialogue_ between Philosopher, Jew, and Christian, ii. 350, =351=; - _Historia calamitatum_, ii. =4-11=, 298-9, =343=; - _Carmen ad Astralabium filium_, ii. 192; - hymns, ii. 207-9; - otherwise mentioned, ii. 134, 283 _and_ _n._ - - Abbo, Abbot, i. =294 and n.=, 324 - - Abbots: - Armed forces, with, i. 473 - Cistercian, position of, i. 362-3 _and_ _n._ - Investiture of, lay, i. 244 - Social class of, i. 473 - - Accursius, _Glossa ordinaria_ of, ii. 262, =263= - - Adalberon, Abp. of Rheims, i. 240, =282-3=, 287 - - Adam of Marsh, ii. 389, 400, 487 - - Adam of St. Victor, editions of hymns of, ii. 87 _n. 1_; - examples of the hymns, ii. 87 _seqq._; - Latin originals, ii. 206, 209-15 - - Adamnan cited, i. 134 _n. 2_, 137 - - Adelard of Bath, ii. 370 - - Aedh, i. 132 - - Agobard, Abp. of Lyons, i. 215, =232-3=; - cited, ii. 247 - - Aidan, St., i. 174 - - Aimoin, _Vita Abbonis_ by, i. 294 _and_ _n._ - - Aix, Synod of, i. 359 - - Aix-la-Chapelle: - Chapel at, i. 212 _n._ - School at, _see_ Carolingian period--Palace school - - Alans, i. 113, 116, 119 - - Alanus de Insulis, career of, ii. 92-4; - estimate of, ii. 375-6; - works of, ii. 48 _n. 1_, =94=, 375 _n. 5_, 376; - _Anticlaudianus_, ii. =94-103=, 192, 377, 539; - _De planctu naturae_, ii. =192-3 and n. 1=, 376 - - Alaric, i. 112 - - Alaric II., i. =117=; ii. 243 - - Alberic, Card., i. 252 _n. 2_ - - Alberic, Markgrave of Camerino, i. 242 - - Alberic, son of Marozia, i. 242-3 - - Albertus Magnus, career of, ii. 421; - estimate of, ii. 298, 301, =421=; - estimate of work of, ii. 393, 395; - attitude toward Gilbert de la Porrée, ii. 372; - compared with Bacon, ii. 422; - with Aquinas, ii. 433, =438=; - relations with Aquinas, ii. 434; - on logic, ii. 314-15; - method of, ii. 315 _n._; - edition of works, ii. 424 _n. 1_; - _De praedicabilibus_, ii. 314 and _n._, 315, 424-5; - work on the rest of Aristotle, ii. 420-1; - analysis of this work, ii. 424 _seqq._; - attitude toward the original, ii. 422; - _Summa theologiae_, ii. 430, 431; - _Summa de creaturis_, ii. 430-1; - _De adhaerendo Deo_, ii. 432; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17; ii. 82 _n. 2_, 283, 312, 402, 541 _n. 2_ - - Albigenses, i. 49; - persecution of, i. 366-7, 461, 481, 572; ii. 168 - - Alboin the Lombard, i. 115 - - Alchemy, ii. 496-7 - - Alcuin of York, career of, i. 214; - works of, i. 216-21 _and_ _n. 2_; - extracts from letters of, ii. 159; - stylelessness of, ii. =159=, 174; - verses by, quoted, ii. 136-7; - on _urbanitas_, ii. 136; - otherwise mentioned, i. 212, 240, 343; ii. 112, 312, 332 - - Aldhelm, i. 185 - - Alemanni, i. 9, 121, 122, 145 _n. 2_, 174, 192 - - Alemannia, Boniface's work in, i. 199 - - Alexander the Great, Pseudo-Callisthenes' Life of, ii. 224, 225, - =229-230=; - Walter of Lille's work on, ii. 230 _n. 1_ - - Alexander II., Pope, i. 262 _n._, 263 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Alexander de Villa-Dei, _Doctrinale_ of, ii. =125-7=, 163 - - Alexander of Hales--at Paris, i. 476; ii. =399=; - Bacon's attack on, ii. 494, 497; - estimate of work of, ii. 393, 395, 399; - Augustinianism of, ii. 403-4 - - Alfred, King of England, i. 144 _and_ _n. 2_, =187-90= - - Allegory (_See also_ Symbolism): - Dictionaries of, ii. 47-8 _and_ _n. 1_, 49 - Greek examples of, ii. 42, 364 - Metaphor distinguished from, ii. 41 _n._ - Politics, in, ii. 60-1, 275-=6=, =280= - _Roman de la rose_ as exemplifying, ii. 103 - Scripture, _see under_ Scriptures - Two uses of, ii. 365 - - Almsgiving, i. 268 - - Alphanus, i. 253-4 - - _Amadas_, i. 565 - - Ambrose, St., Abp. of Milan, on miracles, i. 85-6; - attitude toward secular studies, i. 300; ii. 288; - _Hexaëmeron_ of, i. 72-4; - _De officiis_, i. 96; - hymns, i. 347-8; - otherwise mentioned, i. 70, 75, 76, 104, 186, 354; ii. 45 _n._, 272 - - Anacletus II., Pope, i. 394 - - Anchorites, _see_ Hermits - - Andrew the Chaplain, _Flos amoris_ of, i. 575-6 - - Angels: - Aquinas' discussion of, ii. 324-5, 435, =457 seqq.=, =469=, =473-5= - Dante's views on, ii. 551 - Emotionalizing of conception of, i. 348 _n. 4_ - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 68, 69 - Symbols, regarded as, ii. 457 - Vincent's _Speculum_ as concerning, ii. 319 - Writings regarding, summary of, ii. 457 - - Angilbert, i. 234-5 - - Angles, i. 140 - - Anglo-Saxons: - Britain conquered by, i. 141 - Characteristics of, i. 142, =196= - Christian missions by, i. 196, 197 - Christian missions to, i. 172, 174, =180 seqq.= - Customs of, i. 141 - Poetry of, i. 142-4 - Roman influence slight on, i. 32 - - Aniane monastery, i. 358-9 - - Annals, i. 234 and _n. 1_ - - Anselm (at Laon), ii. 343-4 - - Anselm, St., Abp. of Canterbury, dream of, i. 269-70; - early career, i. 270; - at Bec, i. 271-2; - relations with Rufus, i. 273, 275; - journey to Italy, i. 275; - estimate of, i. 274, =276-7=; ii. =303=, 330, =338=; - style of, i. 276; ii. =166-7=; - influence of, on Duns Scotus, ii. 511; - works of, i. 275 _seqq._; - _Cur Deus homo_, i. 275, 277 _n. 1_, =279=; ii. 395; - _Monologion_, i. 275-7; - _Proslogion_, i. 276-8; ii. =166=, 395; - _Meditationes_, i. 276, =279=; - _De grammatico_, i. 277 _n. 2_; - otherwise mentioned, i. 16, 19, 301-2; ii. 139, 283, 297, 340 - - Anselm of Besate, i. 259 - - Anthony, St., i. 365-6; - Life of, by Athanasius, i. 47, =52 and n.= - - Antique literature, _see_ Greek thought _and_ Latin classics - - Antique stories, themes of, in vernacular poetry, ii. 223 _seqq._ - - Apollinaris Sidonius, ii. 107 - - Apollonius of Tyana, i. 44 - - _Apollonius of Tyre_, ii. 224 _and_ _n._ - - Aquinas, Thomas, family of, ii. 433-4; - career, ii. 434-5; - relations with Albertus Magnus, ii. 434; - translations of Aristotle obtained by, ii. 391; - _Vita_ of, by Guilielmus de Thoco, ii. 435 _n._; - works of, ii. 435; - estimate of, and of his work, i. 17, 18; ii. 301, =436-8=, 484; - completeness of his philosophy, ii. 393-5; - pivot of his attitude, ii. 440; - present position of, ii. 501; - style, ii. 180; - mastery of dialectic, ii. 352; - compared with Eriugena, i. 231 _n. 1_; - with Albertus Magnus, ii. 433, =438=; - with Bonaventura, ii. 437; - with Duns, ii. 517; - Dante compared with and influenced by, ii. 541 _n. 2_, =547=, 549, - 551, 555; - on monarchy, ii. 277; - on faith, ii. 288; - on difference between philosophy and theology, ii. 290; - on logic, ii. 313; - _Summa theologiae_, i. 17, 18; ii. =290 seqq.=; - style of the work, ii. 180-1; - Bacon's charge against it, ii. 300; - Peter Lombard's work contrasted with it, ii. 307-10; - its method, ii. 307; - its classification scheme, ii. 324-9; - analysis of the work, ii. 438 _seqq._, 447 _seqq._; - _Summa philosophica contra Gentiles_, ii. 290, 438, =445-6=; - otherwise mentioned, i. 69 _n. 2_; ii. 283, 298, 300, 312, 402 - - Aquitaine, i. 29, 240, =573= - - Arabian philosophy, ii. =389-90=, 400-1 - - Arabs, Spanish conquest by, i. 9, 118 - - Archimedes, i. 40 - - Architecture, Gothic: - Evolution of, i. 305; ii. =539= - Great period of, i. 346 - - Argenteuil convent, ii. 9, 10 - - Arianism: - Teutonic acceptance of, i. =120=, 192, 194 - Visigothic abandonment of, i. 118 _nn._ - - Aristotle, estimate of, i. 37-8; - works of, i. 37-8; - unliterary character of writings of, ii. 118, 119; - philosophy as classified by, ii. 312; - attitude of, to discussions of final cause, ii. 336; - the _Organon_, i. =37=, 71; - progressive character of its treatises, ii. 333-4; - Boëthius' translation of the work, i. 71, =91-2=; - advanced treatises "lost" till 12th cent., ii. 248 _n._, 334; - Porphyry's _Introduction_ to the _Categories_, i. 45, 92, 102; - ii. 312, =314 n.=, 333, =339=; - Arabian translations of works, ii. 389-90; - introduction of complete works, i. 17; - Latin translations made in 13th cent., ii. 391; - three stages in scholastic appropriation of the Natural Philosophy and - Metaphysics, ii. 393; - Paris University study of, ii. 391-2 _and_ _n._; - Albertus Magnus' work on, ii. 420-1, 424 _seqq._; - Aquinas' mastery of, i. 17, 18; - Dominican acceptance of system of, ii. 404; - Dante's reverence for, ii. 542 - - Arithmetic: - Abacus, the, i. 299 - Boëthius' work on, i. 72, =90= - Music in relation to, ii. 291 - Patristic treatment of, i. 72 - Scholastic classification of, ii. 313 - - Arnold of Brescia, i. 401; ii. 171 - - Arnulf, Abp. of Rheims, i. 283-4 - - Art, Christian (_For particular arts, see their names_): - Demons as depicted in, ii. 540 _n. 2_ - Early, i. 345 _n._ - Emotionalizing of, i. 345-7 - Evolution of, i. 19-20 - Germany, in (11th cent.), i. 312 - Symbolism the inspiration of, i. 21; ii. 82-6 - - Arthur, King, story of youth of, i. 568-569; - relations with Lancelot and Guinevere, i. 584; - with Parzival, i. 592, 599-600, 612 - - Arthurian romances: - Comparison of, with _Chansons de geste_, i. 564-5 - German culture influenced by, ii. 28 - Origin and authorship of, question as to, i. 565-7 - Universal vogue of, i. =565=, 573, 577 - otherwise mentioned, i. 531, 538 - - Arts, the (_See also_ Latin classics): - Classifications of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - Course of, shortening of, ii. =132=, 384 - _Dictamen_, ii. =121=, =129=, 381 - Grammar, _see that heading_ - Masters in, at Paris and Oxford, ii. 384-5; - course for, ii. 388 - Seven Liberal, _see that heading_ - - Asceticism: - Christian: - Carthusian, i. 384 - Early growth of, i. 333-5 - Manichean, i. 49 - Women's practice of, i. 444, 462-3 - Neo-Platonic, i. 43, 44, 46, 50, =331=, 334 - - Astralabius, ii. 6, 9, 27; - Abaelard's poem to, ii. 191-2 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Astrology, i. =44 and n.=; ii. 374: - Bacon's views on, ii. 499-500 - - Astronomy: - Chartres study of, i. 299 - Gerbert's teaching of, i. 288-9 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 72 - - Ataulf, i. 112, 116 - - Athanasius, St., estimate of work of, i. =54=, 68; - Life of St. Anthony by, i. 47, =52 and n.=, 84; - _Orationes_, i. 68 - - Atlantis, i. 36 - - Attila the Hun, i. 112-13; - in legend, i. 145-7 - - Augustine, Abp. of Canterbury, i. 6, 171, =180-2=; - Gregory's letters to, cited, i. 102 - - Augustine, St., Bp. of Hippo, Platonism of, i. 55; - personal affinity of, with Plotinus, i. 55-7; - barbarization of, by Gregory the Great, i. 98, 102; - compared with Gregory the Great, i. 98-9; - with Anselm, i. 279; - with Guigo, i. 385, 390; - overwhelming influence of, in Middle Ages, ii. 403; - on numbers, i. 72 _and_ _n. 2_, 105; - attitude toward physical science, i. 300; - on love of God, i. 342, 344; - allegorizing of Scripture by, ii. 44-5; - modification by, of classical Latin, ii. 152; - _Confessions_, i. =63=; ii. 531; - _De Trinitate_, i. =64=, =68=, 74, 96; - _Civitas Dei_, i. 64-65, 69 _n. 2_, =81-82=; - _De moribus Ecclesiae_, i. 65, 67-8; - _De doctrina Christiana_, i. 66-7; - classification scheme based on the _Doctrina_, ii. 322; - _De spiritu et littera_, i. 69; - _De cura pro mortuis_, i. 86; - _De genesi ad litteram_, ii. 324; - Alcuin's compends of works of, i. 220; - otherwise mentioned, i. 5, 53, 71, 75, 82, 87, 89, 104, 186, 225, 340, - 354, 366, 370; ii. 107, 269, 297, 312 - - Augustus, Emp., i. 26, 29 - - Aurillac monastery, i. 281 - - Ausonius, i. 126 _n. 2_; ii. 107 - - Austrasia: - Church organization in, i. 199 - Feudal disintegration of, i. 240 - Irish monasteries founded in, i. 174 - Rise of, under Pippin, i. 209 - - Authority _v._ reason, _see_ Reason - - Auxerre, i. 506-7 - - Averroes, ii. 390 - - Averroism, ii. 400-1 - - Averroists, ii. =284 n.=, 296 _n. 1_ - - Avicenna, ii. 390 - - Avitus, Bp. of Vienne, i. 126 _n. 2_ - - Azo, ii. 262-3 - - - Bacon, Roger, career of, ii. 486-7 - tragedy of career, ii. 486; - relations with Franciscan Order, ii. 299, 486, =488=, 490-1; - encouragement to, from Clement IV., ii. 489-90 _and_ _n. 1_; - estimate of, ii. 484-6; - estimate of work of, ii. 402; - style of, ii. 179-80; - attitude toward the classics, ii. 120; - predilection for physical science, ii. 289, 486-7; - Albertus Magnus compared with, ii. 422; - on four causes of ignorance, ii. 494-5; - on seven errors in theological study, ii. 495-8; - on experimental science, ii. 502-8; - on logic, ii. 505; - on faith, ii. 507; - editions of works of, ii. 484 _n._; - Greek Grammar by, ii. =128= _and_ _n. 5_, 484 _n._, 487, 498; - _Multiplicatio specierum_, ii. 484 _n._, 500; - _Opus tertium_, ii. =488=, 490 _and_ _nn._, 491, 492, 498, 499; - _Opus majus_, ii. 490-1, 492, =494-5=, 498, =499-500=, =506-8=; - _Optics_, ii. 500; - _Opus minus_, ii. 490-1, =495-8=; - _Vatican fragment_, ii. 490 _and_ _n. 2_, =505 n. 1=; - _Compendium studii philosophiae_, ii. 491, 493-4, 507-8; - _Compendium theologiae_, ii. 491; - otherwise mentioned, ii. 284 _n._, 335 _n._, =389=, 531-2 - - Bartolomaeus, _De proprietatibus rerum_ of, ii. 316 _n. 2_ - - Bartolus, ii. 264 - - Baudri, Abbot of Bourgueil, ii. 192 _n. 1_ - - Bavaria: - Irish monasteries founded in, i. 174 - Merovingian rule in, i. 121 - Otto's relations with, i. 241 - Reorganization of Church in, 198-9 - - Bavarians, i. 145 _n. 2_, 209, 210 - - Beauty, love of, i. 340 - - Bec monastery, i. 262 _n._, 270-2 - - Bede, estimate of, i. 185-6; - allegorizing of Scripture by, ii. 47 _n. 1_; - _Church History of the English People_, i. 172, =186=, 234 _n. 2_; - _De arte metrica_, i. 187, =298=; - _Liber de temporibus_, 300; - otherwise mentioned, i. 184, 212 - - Beghards of Liége, i. 365 - - Belgae, i. 126 - - Belgica, i. 29, 32 - - Benedict, Prior, i. 258 - - Benedict, St., of Nursia, i. =85 and n. 2=, 94, 100 _n. 4_; - _Regula_ of, _see under_ Monasticism - - Benedictus, _Chronicon_ of, ii. 160-1 - - Benedictus Levita, Deacon, ii. 270 - - Benoit de St. More, _Roman de Troie_ by, ii. 225, =227-9= - - Beowulf, i. 141, =143-4= _and_ _n. 1_ - - Berengar, King, i. 256 - - Berengar of Tours, i. 297, 299, =302-3=; ii. 137 - - Bernard, Bro., of Quintavalle, i. 502 - - Bernard, disciple of St. Francis, i. 425-6 - - Bernard of Chartres, ii. 130-2, 370 - - Bernard, St., Abbot of Clairvaux, at Citeaux, i. 360, 393; - inspires Templars' _regula_, i. 531; - denounces and crushes Abaelard, i. 229, 401; ii. =344-5=, =355=; - denounces Arnold of Brescia, i. 401; ii. 171; - relations with Gilbert de la Porrée, ii. 372; - Lives of, i. 392 _n._, 393 _n. 1_; - appearance and characteristics of, i. 392-3; - estimate of, i. 394; ii. 367-8; - love and tenderness of, i. 344, 345, =394 seqq.=; ii. 365; - severity of, i. 400-1; - his love of Clairvaux, i. 401-2; - of his brother, i. 402-4; - Latin style of, ii. 169-71; - on church corruption, i. 474; - on faith, ii. 298; - unconcerned with physics, ii. 356; - St. Francis compared with, i. 415-16; - extracts from letters of, i. 395 _seqq._; ii. 170-1; - _Sermons on Canticles_--cited, 337 _n._; - quoted, i. =409-13=; ii. =169=, 368-9; - _De consideratione_, ii. 368; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17, 20, 279, 302, 472, 501; ii. 34, 168 - - Bernard Morlanensis, _De contemptu mundi_ by, ii. 199 _n. 3_ - - Bernard Silvestris, _Commentum ..._ of, ii. 116-17 _and_ _n. 2_; - _De mundi universitate_, ii. 119, =371 and n.= - - Bernardone, Peter, i. 419, 423-4 - - Bernward, Bp. of Hildesheim, i. 312 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Bible, _see_ Scriptures - - Biscop, Benedict, i. 184 - - Bishops: - Armed forces, with, i. 473 - Francis of Assisi's attitude toward, i. 430 - Gallo-Roman and Frankish, position of, i. 191-2, 194 _and_ _nn._, 198, - =201 n.= - Investiture of, lay, i. 244-5 _and_ _n. 4_; ii. 140 - Jurisdiction and privileges of, ii. 266 - Papacy's ascendancy over, i. 304 - Reluctance to be consecrated, i. 472 - Social class of, i. 473 - Vestments of, symbolism of, ii. 77 _n. 2_ - - _Blancandrin_, i. 565 - - Bobbio monastery, i. 178, =282-3= - - Boëthius, death of, i. =89=, 93; - estimate of, i. 89, 92, =102=; - Albertus Magnus compared with, ii. 420; - works of, i. 90-3; - Gerbert's familiarity with works of, i. 289; - works of, studied at Chartres, i. 298-9; - their importance, i. 298; - _De arithmetica_, i. 72, =90=; - _De geometria_, i. 90; - commentary on Porphyry's _Isagoge_, i. =92=; ii. 312; - translation of the _Organon_, i. 71, =91-2=; - "loss" of advanced works, ii. 248 _n._, 334; - _De consolatione philosophiae_, i. =89=, 188, =189-90=, 299; - mediaeval study of the work, i. 89; ii. 135-6 - - Bologna: - Clubs and guilds in, ii. 382 - Fight of, against Parma, i. 497 - Law school at, ii. =121=, 251, =259-62=, 378 - Medical school at, ii. 121, 383 _n._ - University, Law, inception and character of, ii. 121, =381-3=; - affiliated universities, ii. 383 _n._ - - Bonaventura, St. (John of Fidanza), career of, ii. 403; - at Paris, ii. 399, 403; - estimate of, ii. 301; - style of, ii. 181-2; - contrasted with Albertus, ii. 405; - compared with Aquinas, ii. 405, 437; - with Dante, ii. 547; - on faith, ii. 298; - on Minorites and Preachers, ii. 396; - attitude toward Plato and Aristotle, ii. 404-5; - toward Scriptures, ii. 405 _seqq._; - _De reductione artium ad theologiam_, ii. 406-8; - _Breviloquium_, ii. 408-13; - _Itinerarium mentis in Deum_, ii. 413-18; - otherwise mentioned, ii. 283, 288 - - Boniface, _see_ Winifried-Boniface - - Boniface VIII., Pope, _Sextus_ of, ii. 272; - _Unam sanctam_ bull of, ii. 509 - - _Books of Sentences_, method of, ii. 307 - (_See also under_ Lombard) - - Botany, ii. 427-8 - - Bretons, i. 113 - - _Breviarium_, i. 117, 239, =243-4= - - Britain: - Anglo-Saxon conquest of, i. 141 - Antique culture in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 10-11 - Celts in, i. 127 _n._ - Christianity of, i. 171-2 - Romanization of, i. 32 - - Brude (Bridius), King of Picts, i. 173 - - Brunhilde, i. 176, 178 - - Bruno, Abp. of Cologne, i. 309-10, 383-4; - Ruotger's Life of, i. 310; ii. 162 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Burgundians: - Christianizing of, i. 193 - Church's attitude toward, i. 120 - Roman law code promulgated by (_Papianus_), ii. 239, =242= - Roman subjects of, i. 121 - otherwise mentioned, i. 9-10, 113, 145 - - Burgundy, i. =175=, 243 _n. 1_ - - Byzantine architecture, 212 _n._ - - Byzantine Empire, _see_ Eastern Empire - - - Cædmon, i. 183, 343 - - Caesar, C. Julius, cited, i. =27-9=, 138, 296 - - Caesar of Heisterbach, Life of Engelbert by, i. 482-6 _and_ _n._; - _Dialogi miraculorum_, cited, i. 488 _n._, 491. - - Canon law: - Authority of, ii. 274 - Basis of, ii. 267-9 - Bulk of, ii. 269 - Conciliar decrees, collections of, ii. =269= - Decretals: - Collections of, ii. 269, =271-2=, =275= =n.= - False, ii. 270, 273 - Gratian's _Decretum_, ii. 268-9, =270-1=, 306 - _Jus naturale_ in, ii. 268-9 - _Lex romana canonice compta_, ii. 252 - Scope of, ii. 267 - Sources of, ii. 269 - Supremacy of, ii. 277 - - Canossa, i. 244 - - Cantafables, i. 157 _n. 1_ - - Canticles, i. 350; - Origen's interpretation of, 333; - St. Bernard's Sermons on, i. 337 _n._, =409-13=; ii. =169=, 368-9 - - Capella, Martianus, _De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii_ of, i. =71 and - n. 3=; ii. 553 - - _Caritas_, ii. 476-8; - in relation to faith, ii. 479-81; - to wisdom, ii. 481 - - Carloman, King of Austrasia, i. =199-200 and n.=, 209 - - Carloman (son of Pippin), i. 209-10 - - Carnuti, i. 296 - - Carolingian period: - _Breviarium_ epitomes current during, ii. 244, =249= - Continuity of, with Merovingian, i. 210-12 - Criticism of records non-existent in, i. 234 - Definiteness of statement a characteristic of, i. 225, =227= - Educational revival in, 218-19, 222, =236=; ii. 122, =158=; - palace school, i. =214=, 218, 229, 235 - First stage of mediaeval learning represented by, ii. 330, 332 - History as compiled in, i. 234-5 - King's law in, ii. 247 - Latin poetry of, ii. 188, 194, 197 - Latin prose of, ii. 158 - Originality in, circumstances evoking, i. 232-3 - Restatement of antique and patristic matter in, i. =237=, 342-3 - - Carthaginians, i. 25 - - Carthusian Order, origin of, i. 383-4 - - Cassian's _Institutes_ and _Conlocations_, i. 335 - - Cassiodorus, life and works of, i. 93-7; - _Chronicon_, i. 94; - _Variae epistolae_, i. 94; - _De anima_, 94-5; - _Institutiones divinarum et saecularium litterarum_, i. =95-6=; ii. - 357 _n. 2_; - otherwise mentioned, i. 6, 88-9, 115; ii. 312 - - Cathari, i. 49; ii. 283 _n._ - - Catullus, i. 25 - - Cavallini, i. 347 - - Celsus cited, ii. 235, 237 - - Celtic language, date of disuse of, i. 31 _and_ _n._ - - Celts: - Gaul, in, i. =125 and n.=, =126-7=, 129 _n. 1_ - Goidelic and Brythonic, i. 127 _n._ - Ireland, in, _see_ Irish - Italy invaded by (3rd cent. B.C.), i. 24 - Latinized, i. 124 - Teutons compared with, i. 125 - - Champagne, i. 240, =573= - - Chandos, Sir John, i. 554-5 - - _Chanson de Roland_, i. 12 _n._, 528 _and_ _n. 2_, =559-62= - - _Chansons de geste_, i. =558 seqq.=; ii. 222 - - Charlemagne, age of, _see_ Carolingian period; - estimate of, i. 213; - relations of, with the Church, i. =201=, 239; ii. 273; - relations with Angilbert, i. 234-5; - educational revival by, i. =213-14=; ii. 110, 122, =158=, 332; - book of Germanic poems compiled by order of, ii. 220; - Capitularies of, ii. 110, =248=; - open letters of, i. 213 _n._; - Einhard's Life of, ii. 158-9; - poetic fame of, i. 210; - false Capitularies ascribed to, ii. 270; - empire of, non-enduring, i. 238; - otherwise mentioned, i. 9, 115, 153, 562; ii. 8 - - Charles Martel, i. 197, =198=, =209=; ii. 273 - - Charles II. (the Bald), King of France, i. 228, 235 - - Charles III. (the Simple), King of France, i. 239-40 - - Charles IV., King of France, i. 551 - - Chartres Cathedral, sculpture of, i. =20=, 297; ii. =82-5= - - Chartres Schools: - Classics the study of, i. 298; ii. 119 - Fulbert's work at, i. 296-7, 299 - Grammar as studied at, ii. 129-30 - Medicine studied at, ii. 372 - Orleans the rival of, ii. 119 _n. 2_ - Trivium and quadrivium at, i. =298-9=; ii. 163 - mentioned, i. 287, 293 - - Chartreuse, La Grande, founding of, i. 384 (_See also_ Carthusian) - - Chaucer, ii. 95 - - Childeric, King, i. 119, 122 - - Chivalry: - Literature of: - Arthurian romances, _see that heading_ - Aube (alba) poetry, i. =571=; ii. 30 - _Chansons de geste_, i. 558 _seqq._ - Nature of, i. 20 - _Pastorelle_, i. 571 - Pietistic ideal recognized in, ii. 288, 533 - Poems of various nations cited, i. 570 =n.= - Religious phraseology in love poems, i. 350 _n. 2_ - _Romans d'aventure_, i. =564-5=, 571 _n. 2_ - Three branches of, i. 558 - Nature of, i. 522, =570 n.= - Order of, evolution of, i. 524 _seqq._ - (_See also_ Knighthood) - - Chrétien de Troies, romances by, i. 566-=7=; - _Tristan_, i. 567; - _Perceval_, i. 567, =588-9=; - _Erec_ (Geraint), i. 567, 586; ii. 29 _n._; - _Lancelot_ or _Le Conte de la charrette_, i. 567, 569-70, =582-5=; - _Cligés_, i. 567, =586 n. 2=; - _Ivain_, i. =571 n. 2=, 586 _n. 3_; ii. 29 _n._; - translation of Ovid's _Ars amatoria_, i. 574 - - Christianity: - Appropriation of, by mediaeval peoples, stages in, i. 17-18 - Aquinas' _Summa_ as concerning, ii. 324 - Art, in, _see_ Art - Atonement doctrine, Anselm's views on, i. 279 - Basis of, ii. 268 - Britain, in, i. 171-2 - Buddhism contrasted with, i. 390 - Catholic Church, _see_ Church - Completeness of scheme of, ii. 394-5 - Dualistic element in, i. 59 - Eleventh century, position in, i. 16 - Emotional elements in: - Fear, i. 103, 339, 342, 383 - Hate, i. 332, 339 - Love, i. 331, =345= - Synthetic treatment of, i. 333 - Emotionalizing of, angels as regarded in, i. 348 _n. 4_ - Eternal punishment doctrine of, i. =65=, =339=, 486 - Faith of, _see_ Faith - Feudalism in relation to, i. 524, 527-=9 and n. 2=, =530= - Fifth century, position in, i. 15 - Gallo-Roman, i. 191-2 - German language affected by, i. 202 - Greek Fathers' contribution to, i. 5 - Greek philosophic admixture in, i. 33-4 - Hell-fear in, i. 103, =339=, 342, =383= - Hymns, _see that heading_ - Ideal _v._ actual, i. 354-5 - Incarnation doctrine of, ii. 369 - Irish missionaries of, _see under_ Irish - Latin as modified for expression of, ii. 152, =154=, 156, 164, 171 - Marriage as regarded by, ii. 8, 529 - Martyrs for, _see_ Martyrs - Mediaeval development in relation to, i. 11, 170 - Mediation doctrine of, i. 54, 59-60 - Militant character of, in early centuries, i. =69-70=, 75 - Miracles, attitude toward, i. 50-1 - Monasticism, _see that heading_ - Neo-Platonism compared with, i. 51 - Pagan ethics inconsistent with, i. 66 - Pessimism of, toward mortal life, i. 64 - Saints, _see that heading_ - Salvation: - Master motive, as, i. 59, =61=, 79, 89 - Scholasticism's main interest, as, ii. =296-7=, 300, 311 - Standard of discrimination, as, ii. =530=, =533=, 559 - Scriptures, _see that heading_ - Teutonic acceptance of, _see under_ Teutons - Trinity doctrine of: - Abaelard's works on, ii. 10, =298-9=, 352-3, 355 - Aquinas on, ii. 449-50, 456 - Bonaventura on, ii. 416-17 - Dante's vision, ii. 551 - Peter Lombard's Book on, ii. 323 - Roscellin on, ii. 340 - Vernacular presentation of, ii. 221 - Visions, _see that heading_ - - Chronicles, mediaeval, ii. 175 - - Chrysostom, i. 53 - - Church, Roman Catholic: - Authority of, Duns' views on, ii. 516 - Bishops, _see that heading_ - British Church's divergencies from, 171-2 - Canon Law, _see that heading_ - Charlemagne's relations with, i. =201=, 239; ii. 273 - Classical study as regarded by, i. 260; ii. =110 seqq.=, 396-7 - Clergy, _see that heading_ - Confession doctrine of, i. 489 - Constantine's relations with, ii. 266 - Creation of, i. 11, 68, =86-7= - Decretals, etc., _see under_ Canon Law - Denunciations of, i. 474-5; ii. 34-5 - Diocesan organization of, among Germans, i. 196 - Doctrinal literature of, i. 68-70 - Duns' attitude towards, ii. 513 - East and West, solidarity of development of, i. 55 - Empire's relations with, _see under_ Papacy - Eternal punishment doctrine of, i. =65=, =339=, 486; ii. 550 - Eucharistic controversy, _see that heading_ - Fathers of the, _see_ Greek thought, patristic; Latin Fathers; _and - chiefly_ Patristic thought - Feudalism as affected by, i. 524, 527-=9 and n. 2=, =530= - Feudalism as affecting, i. 244, 473 - Frankish, _see under_ Franks - Gallo-Roman, i. 191-2, 194 - Hildegard's visions regarding, i. 457 - Intolerance of, _see subheading_ Persecutions - Investiture controversy, _see under_ Bishops - Irish Church's relations with, i. 172-4 _and_ =n. 1= - Isidore's treatise on liturgical practices of, i. 106 - Knights' vow of obedience to, i. 530 - Mass, the: - Alleluia chant and Sequence-hymn, ii. 196, =201 seqq.= - Symbolism of, ii. 77-8 - Nicene Creed, i. 69 - Papacy, Popes, _see those headings_ - Paschal controversy, _see_ Eucharistic - Penance doctrine of, i. =101=, 195 - Persecutions by, i. 339; - of Albigenses, i. 366-7, 461, 481, 572; ii. 168; - of Jews, i. 118, 332; - of Montanists, i. 332 - Popes, _see that heading_ - Predestination, attitude toward, i. 228 - Property of, enactments regarding, ii. 266 - Rationalists in, i. 305 - Reforms in (11th cent.), i. 304 - Roman law for, ii. 265 _and_ _n. 2_ - Sacraments: - Definition of the word, ii. 72 _and_ _n. 1_ - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 64, 66, 68-9, 71, =72-4=, 90 _n. 2_ - Origin of, Bonaventura on, ii. 411-13 - Pagan analogy with, i. 53, 59-60 - Secularization of dignities of, i. 472 - Simony in, i. =244=, 475 - Spain, in, _see under_ Spain - Standards set by, ii. 528-9 - Suspects to, estimate of, ii. 532 - Synod of Aix (817), i. 359 - Theodosian Code as concerning, ii. 266-7 _and_ _n. 1_ - Transubstantiation doctrine of, i. 226-227 - "Truce of God" promulgated by, i. 529 _n. 2_ - - Churches: - Building of, symbolism in, ii. 78-82 - Dedication of, sequence designed for, ii. 210-11 - - Cicero, i. 26 _n. 3_, 39, 78, =219= - - Cino, ii. 264 - - Cistercian Order: - _Charta charitatis_, i. 361-3 - Clairvaux founded, i. 393 - Cluniac controversies with, i. 360 - - Citeaux monastery: - Bernard at, i. 360, 393 - Foundation and rise of, i. 360-3 - - Cities and towns: - Growth of, in 12th cent., i. 305; ii. =379-80= - Italian, _see under_ Italy - - Cities (_civitates_) of Roman provinces, i. 29-30 - - Clairvaux (Clara Vallis): - Founding of, i. 360, 393 - Position of, i. 362 - St. Bernard's love of, i. 401-2 - - Classics, _see_ Latin classics - - Claudius, Bp. of Turin, i. 215, 231-2 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Claudius, Emp., i. 30 - - Clement II., Pope, i. 243 - - Clement IV., Pope, ii. 489-91 - - Clement V., Pope, _Decretales Clementinae_ of, ii. 272 - - Clement of Alexandria, ii. 64 - - Clergy: - Accusations against, false, penalty for, ii. 266 - Legal status of, ii. 382 - Regular, _see_ Monasticism - Secular: - Concubinage of, i. 244 - Francis of Assisi's attitude toward, i. 430, 440 - Marriage of, i. 472 _n. 1_ - Reforms of, i. 359 - Standard of conduct for, i. 471; ii. 529 - Term, scope of, i. 356 - - Clerval, Abbé, cited, i. 300 _n. 1_ - - Clopinel, Jean, _see_ De Meun - - Clovis (Chlodoweg), i. 114, 117, =119-21=, 122, 138, =193-4=; ii. 245 - - Cluny monastery: - Abaelard at, ii. 25, =26=, 345 - Characteristics of, i. 359-60 - Monastic reforms accomplished by, i. =293=, 304 - - Cologne, i. 29, 31 - - Columba, St., of Iona, i. =133-7=, 173 - - Columbanus, St., of Luxeuil and Bobbio, i. 6, 133, =174-9=, 196; - Life and works of, 174 _n. 2_ - - Combat, trial by, i. 232 - - Commentaries, mediaeval: - Boëthius', i. 93 - Excerpts as characteristic of, i. 104 - General addiction to, ii. 390, 553 _n. 4_ - Originals supplanted by, ii. 390 - Raban's, i. 222-3 - - Compends: - Fourteenth century use of, ii. 523 - Mediaeval preference for, i. 94 - Medical, in Italy, i. 251 - Saints' lives, of (_Legenda aurea_), ii. 184 - - Conrad, Duke of Franconia, i. 241 - - Conrad II., Emp., i. 243 - - Constantine, Emp., ii. 266; - "Donation" of, ii. =35=, 265, 270 - - Constantinus Africanus, i. =251= _and_ _n._; ii. 372 - - Cordova, i. 25 - - Cornelius Nepos, i. 25 - - _Cornificiani_, ii. =132=, 373 - - Cosmogony: - Aquinas' theory of, ii. 456 - Mediaeval allegorizing of, ii. 65 _seqq._ - Patristic attitude toward, i. 72-4 - - Cosmology, Alan's, in _Anticlaudianus_, ii. 377 - - Cremona, i. 24 - - Cross, Christian: - Magic safeguard, as, i. 294-5 - Mediaeval feeling for, ii. 197 - - Crusades: - Constantinople, capture of, as affecting Western learning, ii. 391 - First: - _Chansons_ concerning, i. 537-8 - Character of, i. 535-7 - Guibert's account of, ii. 175 - Hymn concerning, quoted, i. 349 _and_ _n._ - Italians little concerned in, ii. 189 - Joinville's account of, quoted, i. 546-9 - Language of, i. 531 - Results of, i. 305 - Second, i. 394 - Spirit of, i. 535-7 - - Cuchulain, i. 129 _and_ _nn. 2, 3_ - - Cynewulf's _Christ_, i. 183 - - Cyprian quoted, i. 337 _n._ - - Cyril of Alexandria, i. 227 - - Cyril of Jerusalem, i. 53 - - - Da Romano, Alberic, i. 515-16 - - Da Romano, Eccelino, i. =505-6=, 516 - - Dacia, Visigoths in, i. 112 - - Damiani, St. Peter, Card. Bp. of Ostia, career of, i. 262-4; - attitude of, to the classics, i. 260; ii. 112, 165; - on the hermit life, i. 369-70; - on tears, i. 371 _and_ _n._; - extract illustrating Latin style of, ii. 165 _and_ _n. 3_; - works of, i. 263 _n. 1_; - writings quoted, i. 263-7; - _Liber Gomorrhianus_, i. 265, 474; - _Vita Romualdi_, i. 372 _seqq._; - biography of Dominicus Loricatus, i. 381-2; - _De parentelae gradibus_, ii. 252; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17, 19, 20, 260, 343, 345, 391; ii. 34 - - Damianus, i. 262, 265 - - Danes, i. 142, =153= - - Dante, estimate of, ii. 534-5; - scholarship of, ii. 541 _n. 2_; - possessed by spirit of allegory, ii. 552-5; - compared with Aquinas and influenced by him, ii. 541 _n. 2_, 547, 549, - 551, 555; - compared with Bonaventura, ii. 547; - attitude to Beatrice, ii. 555-8; - on love, ii. 555-6; - on monarchy, ii. 278; - _De monarchia_, ii. 535; - _De vulgari eloquentia_, ii. 219, =536=; - _Vita nuova_, ii. =556=, 559; - _Convito_, ii. =537-8=, 553; - _Divina Commedia_, i. 12 _n._; ii. 86, 99 _n. 1_, =103=, 219; - commentaries on this work, ii. 553-4; - estimate of it, ii. 538, 540-1, 544, 553-4; - _Inferno_ cited, ii. 42, 541-3, =545-7=; - _Purgatorio_ cited, ii. 535, 542-3, =548-9=, 554, 558; - _Paradiso_ cited, i. 395; ii. 542-3, =549-51=, 558 - - Dares the Phrygian, ii. 116 _and_ _n. 3_, 224-=5 and nn.=, 226-7 - - _De bello et excidio urbis Comensis_, ii. 189-90 - - De Boron, Robert, i. 567 - - _De casu Diaboli_, i. 279 - - _De consolatione philosophiae_, _see under_ Boëthius - - De Lorris, Guillaume, _Roman de la rose_ by, i. =586-7=; ii. 103 _and_ - _n. 1_, 104 - - De Meun, Jean (Clopinel), _Roman de la rose_ by, ii. 103 _and_ _n. 1_, - 104, =223= - - Denis, St., i. 230 - - Dermot (Diarmaid, Diarmuid), High-King of Ireland, i. =132=-3, 135, =136= - - Desiderius, Bp. of Vienne, i. 99 - - Desiderius, Pope, i. =253=, 263 - - Devil, the: - Mediaeval beliefs and stories as to, i. 487 _seqq._ - Romuald's conflicts with, i. =374=, 379-80 - - Dialectic (_See also_ Logic): - Abaelard's skill in, ii. 118, 119, =345-6=, 353; - his subjection of dogma to, ii. 304; - his _Dialectica_, ii. 346 _and_ _nn._, 349-50 - Chartres study of, i. 298 - Duns Scotus' mastery of, ii. 510, 514 - Grammar penetrated by, ii. 127 _seqq._ - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 67 - Raban's view of, i. 222 - Thirteenth century study of, ii. 118-20 - - Diarmaid (Diarmuid), _see_ Dermot - - _Dictamen_, ii. =121=, =129=, 381 - - Dictys the Cretan, ii. 224, 225 _and_ _n. 1_ - - _Dies irae_, i. 348 - - Dionysius the Areopagite, ii. 10, 102, =344= - - _Divina Commedia_, _see under_ Dante - - Divination, ii. 374 - - Dominic, St., i. =366-7=, 497; ii. 396 - - Dominican Order: - Aristotelianism of, ii. 404 - Founding of, i. =366=; ii. 396 - Growth of, i. 498; ii. =398= - Object of, ii. 396 - Oxford University, at, ii. 387 - Papacy, relations with, ii. =398=, 509 - Paris University, position in, ii. =386=, 399 - - Dominicus Loricatus, i. 263, =381-3= - - Donatus, i. 71, 297; - _Ars minor_ and _Barbarismus_ of, ii. 123-=4= - - Donizo of Canossa, ii. 189 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Druids: - Gallic, i. =28=, 296 - Irish, i. 133 - - Du Guesclin, Bertrand, Constable of France, i. 554-6, 557 _n._ - - Duns Scotus, education of, ii. 511; - career of, ii. 513; - estimate of, ii. 513; - intricacy of style of, ii. 510, 514, =516 n. 2=; - on logic, ii. 504 _n. 2_; - Occam's attitude toward, ii. 518 _seqq._; - editions of works of, ii. 511 _n. 1_; - estimate of his work, ii. 509-10, 514 - - Dunstan, St., Abp. of Canterbury, i. 323-4 - - Durandus, Guilelmus, _Rationale divinorum officiorum_ of, ii. 76 _seqq._ - - - Eadmer, i. 269, 273, 277 - - Eastern Empire: - Frankish relations with, i. 123 - Huns' relations with, i. 112-13 - Norse mercenaries of, i. 153 - Ostrogoths' relations with, i. 114 - Roman restoration by, i. 115 - - Ebroin, i. 209 - - Eckbert, Abbot of Schönau, i. 444 - - Ecstasy: - Bernard's views on, ii. 368 - Examples of, i. 444, 446 - - Eddas, ii. 220 - - Education: - Carolingian period, in, i. =213-14=, 218-19, 222, =236=; ii. 110, 122, - =158=, 332 - Chartres method of, ii. 130-1 - Grammar a chief study in, ii. 122 _seqq._, 331-2 - Italy, in, _see under_ Italy - Latin culture the means and method of, i. 12; ii. =109= - Schools, clerical and monastic, i. =250 n. 2=, 293 - Schools, lay, i. 249-51 - Seven Liberal Arts, _see that heading_ - Shortening of academic course, advocates of, ii. =132=, 373 - - Edward II., King of England, i. 551 - - Edward III., King of England, i. 550-1 - - Edward the Black Prince, i. 554-6 - - Einhard the Frank, i. 234 _n. 1_; - _Life of Charlemagne_ by, i. 215; ii. 158-9 - - Ekkehart family, i. 309 - - Ekkehart of St. Gall, _Waltarius_ (_Waltharilied_) by, ii. 188 - - El-Farabi, ii. 390 - - Eleventh century: - Characteristics of, i. 301; - in France, i. 301, 304, 328; - in Germany, i. 307-9; - in England, i. 324; - in Italy, i. 327 - Christianity in, position of, i. 16 - - Elias, Minister-General of the Minorites, i. 499 - - Elizabeth, St., of Hungary, i. 391, =465 n. 1= - - Elizabeth, St., of Schönau, visions of, i. 444-6 - - Emotional development, secular, i. 349-50 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Empire, the, _see_ Holy Roman Empire - - Encyclopaedias, mediaeval, ii. 316 _n. 2_; - Vincent's _Speculum majus_, ii. 315-22 - - _Eneas_, ii. 225, =226= - - Engelbert, Abp. of Cologne, i. 481-6; - estimate of, i. 482 - - England (_See also_ Britain): - Danish Viking invasion of, i. 153 - Eleventh century conditions in, i. 324 - Law in, principles of, i. 141-2; - Roman law almost non-existent in Middle Ages, ii. 248 - Norman conquest of, linguistic result of, i. 324 - - English language, character of, i. 324 - - Epicureanism, i. =41=, 70; ii. 296, 312 - - Eriugena, John Scotus, estimate of, i. 215, =228-9=, =231=; ii. 330; - on reason _v._ authority, ii. 298, 302; - works of, studied at Chartres, i. 299; - _De divisione naturae_, i. =230-1=; ii. 302; - otherwise mentioned, i. 16; ii. 282 _n._, 312 - - Essenes, i. 334 - - Ethelbert, King of Kent, i. 180-1 - - _Etymologies_ of Isidore, i. 33, 105 _and_ _n. 1_, =107-9=; ii. 318; - law codes glossed from, ii. 250 - - Eucharistic (Paschal) controversy: - Berengar's contribution to, i. 302-3 - Paschasius' contribution to, i. 225-7 - - Eucherius, Bp. of Lyons, ii. 48 _n. 1_ - - Euclid, i. 40 - - Eudemus of Rhodes, i. 38 - - Eunapius, i. 47, 52 - - Euric, King of the Visigoths, i. 117 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Eusebius, i. 81 _n. 2_ - - Evil or sin: - Abaelard's views concerning, ii. 350 - Eriugena's views concerning, i. 228 - Original sin, realism in relation to, ii. 340 _n._ - Peter Lombard and Aquinas contrasted as to, ii. 308-10 - - Experimental science, Bacon on, ii. 502-8 - - - _Fabliaux_, i. =521 n. 2=; ii. 222 - - Facts, unlimited actuality of, i. 79-80 - - Faith: - Abaelard's definition of, ii. 354 - Bacon's views on, ii. 507 - Bernard of Clairvaux's attitude toward, ii. 355 - _Caritas_ in relation to, ii. 479-81 - Cognition through, Aquinas' views on, ii. 446 - Occam's views on, ii. 519 - Proof of matters of, Aquinas on, ii. 450 - Will as functioning in, ii. 479 - - _False Decretals_, i. 104 _n._, =118 n. 1= - - Fathers of the Church (_See also_ Patristic thought): - Greek, _see_ Greek thought, patristic - Latin, _see_ Latin Fathers - - Faustus, ii. 44 - - Felix, St., i. 86 - - Feudalism (_See also_ Knighthood): - Anarchy of, modification of, i. 304 - Austrasian disintegration by, i. 240 - _Chansons_ regarding, i. 559 _seqq._, 569 - Christianity in relation to, i. 524, 527-=9 and n. 2=, =530= - Church affected by, i. 244, 473 - Italy not greatly under, i. 241 - Marriage as affected by, i. 571, 586 - Obligations of, i. 533-4 - Origin of, 522-3 - Principle and practice of, at variance, i. 522 - - Fibonacci, Leonardo, ii. 501 - - Finnian, i. 136 - - _Flamenca_, i. 565 - - _Flore et Blanchefleur_, i. 565 - - Florus, Deacon, of Lyons, i. 229 _and_ _n._ - - Fonte Avellana hermitage, i. =262-3=, 381 - - Forms, new, creation of, _see_ Mediaeval thought--Restatement - - Fortunatus, Hymns by, ii. 196-7 - - Fourteenth century: - Academic decadence in, ii. 523 - Papal position in, ii. 509-10 - - France (_For particular districts, towns, etc., see their names_): - Antique, the, in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 9-10 - Arthurian romances developed in, i. 566 - Cathedrals of, ii. 539, 554-5 - Church in, secularization of, i. 472-3 - Eleventh century conditions in, i. 301, 304, 328 - History of, in 11th century, i. 300 - Hundred Years' War, i. 550 _seqq._ - Jacquerie in (1358), i. 556 - Language modifications in, ii. 155 - Literary celebrities in (12th cent.), ii. 168 - Monarchy of, advance of, i. 305 - North and South, characteristics of, i. 328 - Rise of, in 14th century, ii. 509 - Town-dwellers of, i. =495=, 508 - - Francis, St., of Assisi, birth of, i. 415; - parentage, i. 419; - youth, i. 420-3; - breach with his father, i. 423-4; - monastic career, i. 427 _seqq._; - French songs sung by, i. =419 and n. 2=, 427, 432; - _Lives_ of, i. 415 _n._; - style of Thomas of Celano's _Life_, ii. 182-3; - _Speculum perfectionis_, i. 415 _n._, 416 _n._, =438 n. 3=; ii. =183=; - literal acceptance of Scripture by, i. 365, 406-=7=; - on Scripture interpretation, i. 427 _n. 1_; ii. 183; - universality of outlook, i. 417; - mediaevalism, i. 417; - Christ-influence, i. 417, =418=, =432=-3; - inspiration, i. =419 n. 1=, 441; - gaiety of spirit, i. 421, 427-8, 431-2; - poetic temperament, i. 422, 435; - love of God, man, and nature, i. 366, 428, =432-3=, =435=-7; - simplicity, i. 429; - obedience and humility, i. 365 _n._, =429-30=; - humanism, i. 495; - St. Bernard compared with, i. 415-16; - St. Dominic contrasted with, ii. 396; - _Fioretti_, ii. 184; - Canticle of Brother Sun, i. 433-4, =439-40=; - last testament of, i. 440-1; - otherwise mentioned, i. 20, 21, 279, 344, 345, 355-6; ii. 302 - - Franciscan Order: - Attractiveness of, i. 498 - Augustinianism of, ii. 404 - Bacon's relations with, ii. 486, =488=, 490-=1= - Characteristics of, i. 366 - Founding of, i. =427=; ii. 396 - Grosseteste's relations, ii. =487=, 511 - Object of, ii. 396 - Oxford University, at, ii. 387, 400 - Papacy, relations with, ii. =398=, 509 - Paris University, in, ii. 386, 399 - Rise of, ii. 398 - - Franconia, i. 241 - - Franks (_See also_ Germans): - Christianity as accepted by, i. 193 - Church among: - Bishops, position of, i. =194 and nn.=, 198, 201 _n._ - Charlemagne's relations with, i. =201=, 239; ii. 273 - Clovis, under, i. 194 - Lands held by, i. 194, 199-200; - immunities of, i. 201 _and_ _n._ - Organization of, i. 199 - Reform of, by Boniface, i. =196=; ii. 273 - Roman character of, i. 201 - Division of the kingdom a custom of, i. 238-9 - Gallo-Roman relations with, i. 123 - Language of, i. 145 _n. 2_ - Law of, ii. 245-6 - _Missi dominici_, i. 211 - Ripuarian, i. 119, 121; ii. 246 - Romanizing of, partial, i. 9-10 - Salian, i. 113, =119=; Code, ii. 245-6 - Saracens defeated by, i. 209-10 _n. 1_ - Trojan origin of, belief as to, ii. 225 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Frederic, Count of Isenburg, i. 483-6 - - Frederick I. (Barbarossa), Emp., i. 448 - - Frederick II., Emp., under Innocent's guardianship, ii. 32-3; - crowned, ii. 33; - estimate of, i. 497; - otherwise mentioned, i. 250 _n. 4_, 417, 481, 505, 510, 517 - - Free, meaning of term, i. 526 _n. 3_ - - Free Companies, i. 556 - - Free will: - Angelic, ii. 473 - Duns Scotus on, ii. 515 - Human, ii. 475 - Richard of Middleton on, ii. 512 - - Freidank, i. 475; ii. =35= - - Frescoes, i. 346-7 - - Friendship, chivalric, i. 561-2, 569-70, 583 - - Frisians, i. 169, 174; - missionary work among, i. =197=, 200, 209 - - Froissart, Sir John, _Chronicles_ of, i. 549 _seqq._; - estimate of the work, i. 557 - - Froumund of Tegernsee, i. =312-13=; ii. 110 - - Fulbert, Bp. of Chartres, i. 287, =296-7=, 299 - - Fulbert, Canon, ii. 4-6, 9 - - Fulco, Bp. of Toulouse, i. 461 - - Fulda monastery, i. =198=, 221 _n. 2_ - - Fulk of Anjou, ii. 138 - - - Gaius, _Institutes_ of, ii. 241, 243 - - Galahad, i. 569-70, 583, 584 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Galen of Pergamos, i. =40=, 251 - - Gall, St., i. 6, 178, =196= - - Gallo-Romans: - Feudal system among, i. 523 - Frankish rule over, i. 120, 123 - Literature of, i. 126 _n. 2_ - - Gandersheim cloister, i. 311 - - Gaul (_For particular districts, towns, etc., see their names_): - Celtic inhabitants of, i. =125 and n.=, =126=-7, 129 _n. 1_ - Druidism in, i. =28=, 296 - Ethnology of, i. 126 - Heathenism in, late survival of, i. 191 _n. 1_ - Latinization of, i. 9-10, =29-32= - Visigothic kingdom in south of, i. 112, 116, 117, 121 - - Gauls, characteristics and customs of, i. 27-8 - - Geoffrey of Beaulieu, Life of St. Louis by, i. 539-42 - - Gepidae, i. 113, 115 - - Geraldus, St., i. 281 - - Gerard, brother of St. Bernard, i. 402-4 - - Gerbert of Aurillac, _see_ Sylvester II. - - German language: - Christianity as affecting, i. 202 - High and Low, separation of, i. 145 _n. 2_ - Middle High German literature, ii. 168, 221 - Old High German poetry, ii. =194=, 220 - - Germans (Saxons) (_See also_ Franks): - Characteristics of, i. 138-40, 147, 151-2 - Language of, _see_ German language - Latin as studied by, i. =307-9=; ii. =123=, 155 - Literature of, ii. 220-1 (_See also subheading_ Poetry) - Marriage as regarded by, ii. 30 - Nationalism of, in 13th cent., ii. 28 - Poetry of: - _Hildebrandslied_, i. 145-7 - _Kudrun_ (_Gudrun_), i. 148, =149=-52; ii. 220 - _Nibelungenlied_, i. 145-6, =148-9=, 152, 193, 203 _n. 2_; ii. 220 - _Waltarius_, i. 147 _and_ _n._, 148 - otherwise mentioned, i. 113, 115, 119, 174, 209, 210 - - Germany: - Antique, the, in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 10-11 - Art in (11th cent.), i. 312 - Church in, secularization of, i. 472 - Italy contrasted with, as to culture, i. 249-50 - Merovingian supremacy in, i. 121 - Papacy as regarded by, ii. 28, 33, =34-5= - Sequence-composition in, ii. 215 - - Gertrude of Hackeborn, Abbess, i. 466 - - Gilbert de la Porrée, Bp. of Poictiers, ii. 132, =372= - - Gilduin, Abbot of St. Victor, ii. =62= _and_ _n. 2_ - - Giraldus Cambrensis, ii. 135 _and_ _n._ - - Girard, Bro., of Modena, i. 498 - - Glaber, Radulphus, _Histories_ of, i. 488 _n._ - - Glass-painting, ii. 82-6 - - Gnosticism, i. 51 _n. 1_ - - Gnostics, Eriugena compared with, i. 231 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Godehard, Bp. of Hildesheim, i. 312 - - Godfrey of Bouillon, i. 535-8 - - Godfrey of Viterbo, ii. 190 _and_ _n. 4_ - - Gondebaud, King of the Burgundians, ii. 242 - - Good and the true compared, ii. 441, 512 - - Goths (_See also_ Visigoths): - Christianity of, i. 192, 194 - Roman Empire invaded by, i. 111 _seqq._ - - Gottfried von Strassburg, i. 567; ii. 223; - _Tristan_ of, i. 577-82 - - Gottschalk, i. 215, 221 _n. 2_, 224-5, 227-=8=; - verses by, ii. 197-9 - - Government: - Church _v._ State controversy, ii. 276-7 - (_See also_ Papacy--Empire) - Ecclesiastical, _see_ Canon Law - Monarchical, ii. 277-8 - Natural law in relation to, ii. 278-=9= - Representative assemblies, ii. 278 - - Grace, Aquinas' definition of, ii. 478-9 - - Grail, the, i. 589, =596-7=, =607=, 608, 613 - - Grammar: - Chartres studies in, i. =298=; ii. 129-30 - Current usage followed by, ii. 163 _and_ _n. 1_ - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 67 - Importance and predominance of, in Middle Ages, i. 109 _and_ _n._, - =292=; ii. =331-2= - Italian study of, ii. =129=, 381 - Language continuity preserved by, ii. =122-3=, 151, 155 - Law studies in relation to, ii. 121 - Logic in relation to, ii. 127 _seqq._, 333-4; - in Abaelard's work, ii. 346 - Raban's view of, i. 222 - Scholastic classification of, ii. 313 - Syntax, connotation of term, ii. 125 - Works on--Donatus, Priscian, Alexander, ii. 123 =seqq.= - - Grammarian, meaning of term, i. 250 - - Gratianus, _Decretum_ of, ii. 268-9, =270-1=, 306, 380-2; - _dicta_, ii. 271 - - Greek classics, _see_ Greek thought, pagan - - Greek language: - Oxford studies in, ii. 120, 391, =487= - Translations from, direct, in 13th cent., ii. 391 - - Greek legends, mediaeval allegorizing of, ii. 52, 56-9 - - Greek novels, ii. 224 _and_ _n._ - - Greek thought, pagan: - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. 492-3 - Breadth of interest of, ii. 109 - Christian standpoint contrasted with, i. 390; ii. 295-6 - Church Fathers permeated by, i. 33-4 - Completeness of schemes presented by, ii. 394 - Limitless, the, abhorrent to, i. 353-4 - Love as regarded by, i. 575 - Metaphysics in, ii. 335-7 - Scholasticism contrasted with, ii. 296 - _Summa moralium philosophorum_, ii. 373 - Symbolism in, ii. 42, =56= - Transmutation of, through Latin medium, i. 4 - - Greek thought, patristic (_See also_ Patristic thought): - Comparison of, with Latin, i. 68 - Pagan philosophic thought contrasted with, ii. 295-6 - Symbolism in, ii. 43 - Transmutation of, through Latin medium, i. 5, 34 _and_ _n._ - - Gregorianus, ii. =240=, 243 - - Gregory, Bp. of Tours, i. 121; - _Historia Francorum_ by, i. 234 _n. 2_; ii. 155 - - Gregory I. (the Great), Pope, family and education of, i. 97; - Augustine of Hippo compared with, i. 98-9; - Augustinianism barbarized by, i. 98, 102; - sends mission to England, i. 6, 33, =180-1 and n. 1=; - estimate of, i. =56=, 89, =102-3=, =342=; - estimate of his writings, i. 354; - on miracles, i. 100, 182; - on secular studies, ii. 288; - letter to Theoctista cited, i. 102 _n. 1_; - editions of works of, i. 97 _n._; - works of, translated by King Alfred, i. 187; - _Dialogues on the Lives and Miracles of the Italian Saints_, i. 85 - and _n. 2_, 100; - _Moralia_, i. =97=, 100; ii. 57; - Odo's epitome of this work, ii. 161; - _Commentary on Kings_, i. 100 _n. 1_; - _Pastoral Rule_, i. =102=, 187-8; - otherwise mentioned, i. 16 _and_ _n. 4_, 65, 87, 104, 116 - - Gregory II., Pope, i. 197-8; ii. 273 - - Gregory III., Pope, i. 198; ii. 273 - - Gregory VII., Pope (Hildebrand), claims of, i. =244-5=; ii. 274; - relations with Damiani, i. 263; - exile of, i. 244, 253; - estimate of, i. 261; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17, 174 _n. 1_, 243, 304 - - Gregory IX., Pope, codification by, of Canon law, ii. 272; - efforts of, to improve education of the Church, ii. 398; - mentioned, i. 476; ii. 33 - - Gregory of Nyssa, i. 53, 80, 87, 340 - - Grosseteste, Robert, Chancellor of Oxford University and Bp. of Lincoln, - Greek studies promoted by, ii. =120=, =391=, 487; - estimate of, ii. 511-12; - Augustinianism of, ii. 403-4; - attitude toward the classics, ii. 120, 389; - relations with Franciscan Order, ii. =487=, 511; - Bacon's relations with, ii. 487 - - _Gudrun_ (_Kudrun_), i. 148, =149=-52; ii. 220 - - Guigo, Prior, estimate of, i. 390-1; - relations with St. Bernard, i. 405; - _Consuetudines Carthusiae_ by, i. 384; - _Meditationes_ of, i. 385-90 - - Guinevere, i. 569, =584= _and_ _n. 1_, 585 - - Guiot de Provens, "Bible" of, i. 475-6 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Guiscard, Robert, ii. 189 _n. 2_ - - Gumpoldus, Bp. of Mantua, _Life of Wenceslaus_ by, ii. 162 _n. 1_ - - Gundissalinus, Archdeacon of Segovia, ii. 312 _and_ _n. 4_, 313 - - Gunther, _Ligurinus_ of, ii. 192 _and_ _n. 4_ - - Gunzo of Novara, i. 257-8 - - - Harding, Stephen, Abbot of Citeaux, i. =360=, =361=, 393 - - Harold Fairhair, i. 153 - - _Hartmann von Aue_, i. =348-9 and n.=, 567; ii. 29 _n._ - - Harun al Raschid, Caliph, i. 210 - - Heinrich von Veldeke, i. 567; ii. 29 _n._ - - _Heliand_, i. =203 and nn.=, 308 - - Helias, Count of Maine, ii. 138 - - Hell: - Dante's descriptions of, ii. 546-7 - Fear of, i. 103, =339=, 342, =383= - Visions of, i. 454-5, 456 _n._ - - Heloïse, Abaelard's love for, ii. 4-5, 344; - his love-songs to, ii. =13=, 207; - love of, for Abaelard, i. 585; ii. =3=, =5=, 8, 9, =15-16=; - birth of Astralabius, ii. 6; - opposes marriage with Abaelard, ii. 6-9; - marriage, ii. 9; - at Argenteuil, ii. 9, 10; - takes the veil, ii. 10; - at the Paraclete, ii. 10 _seqq._; - letters of, to Abaelard quoted, ii. 11-15, 17-20, 23, 24; - Abaelard's letters to, quoted, ii. 16-17, 21-3, 24-5; - Peter the Venerable's letter, ii. 25-7; - letter of, to Peter the Venerable, ii. 27; - death of, ii. 27; - intellectual capacity of, ii. 3 - - Henry the Fowler, i. 241 - - Henry II., Emp., i. 243; - dirge on death of, ii. 216 - - Henry IV., Emp., i. 244; ii. =167= - - Henry VI., Emp., ii. 32, 190 - - Henry I., King of England, ii. 139, 146, 176-8 - - Henry II., King of England, ii. 133, 135, 372 - - Henry of Brabant, ii. 391 - - Henry of Ghent, ii. 512 - - Henry of Huntington cited, i. 525 - - Henry of Septimella, ii. 190 _and_ _n. 3_ - - Heretics (_For particular sects, see their names_): - Abaelard's views on coercion of, ii. 350, 354 - Insignificance of, in relation to mediaeval thought, ii. 283 _and_ _n._ - Theodosian enactments against, ii. 266 - Twelfth century, in, i. 305 - - Herluin, Abbot of Bec, i. 271 - - Hermann, Landgraf of Thüringen, i. 589; ii. 29 - - Hermann Contractus, i. 314-15 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Hermits: - Irish, i. 133 - Motives of, i. 335, 363 - Temper of, i. 368 _seqq._ - - Hermogenianus, ii. 240, 243 - - Herodotus, i. 77 - - Hesse, Boniface's work in, i. 197-8 - - Hilarion, St., i. 86 - - Hilary, Bp. of Poictiers, i. =63=, 68, 70 - - Hildebert of Lavardin, Bp. of Le Mans and Abp. of Tours, career of, ii. - 137-40; - love of the classics, ii. =141-2=, =146=, 531; - letters of, quoted, ii. 140, 143, 144-5, 146-7; - Latin text of letter, ii. 172; - Latin elegy by, ii. 191; - otherwise mentioned, ii. 61, 134, 373 _n. 2_ - - Hildebrand, _see_ Gregory VII. - - _Hildebrandslied_, ii. 220 - - Hildegard, St., Abbess of Bingen, dedication of, i. 447; - visions of, i. 267, =449-59=; - affinity of, with Dante, ii. 539; - correspondence of, i. 448; - works of, i. 446 _n._; - _Book of the Rewards of Life_, i. 452-6; - _Scivias_, i. 457-9; - otherwise mentioned, i. 20, 345, 443; ii. 302, 365 - - Hildesheim, bishops of (11th cent.), i. 312 - - Hilduin, Abbot, i. 230 - - Hincmar, i. 215, 230, =233 n. 1= - - Hipparchus, i. 40 - - Hippocrates, i. 40 - - History: - Carolingian treatment of, i. 234-5 - Classical attitude toward, i. 77-8 - Eleventh century treatment of, i. 300 - _Historia tripartita_ of Cassiodorus, i. 96-7 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 80-4 - _Seven Books of Histories adversum paganos_ by Orosius, i. 82-3 - - Holy Roman Empire: - Burgundy added to, i. 243 _n. 1_ - German character of, ii. 32 - Papacy, relations with, _see under_ Papacy - Refounding of, by Otto, i. 243 - Rise of, under Charlemagne, i. 212 - - Honorius II., Pope, i. 531 - - Honorius III., Pope, i. 366, 482, 497; ii. 33, 385 _n._, =398= - - Honorius of Autun--on classical study, ii. 110, =112-13=; - _Speculum ecclesiae_ of, ii. 50 _seqq._; - _Gemma animae_, ii. 77 _n. 1_ - - Hosius, Bp. of Cordova, i. 118 _n. 1_ - - Hospitallers, i. 531 - - Hrotsvitha, i. 311 _and_ _n. 2_, ii. 215 _n. 2_ - - Huesca (Osca), i. 25 - - Hugh, Abbot of Cluny, ii. 137 - - Hugh Capet, i. 239-=40= _and_ _n._ - - Hugh the Great, Count of Paris, i. 241 - - Hugh of Payns, i. 531 - - Hugo, Archdeacon of Halberstadt, ii. 62 - - Hugo, Bro., of Montpellier, i. 510-14 - - Hugo, King, i. 242 - - Hugo of St. Victor, estimate of, ii. =63=, =111=, 118, 301, =356=; - allegorizing by, ii. 367; - on classical study, ii. 110-11; - on logic, ii. 333; - pupils of, ii. 87; - works of, ii. 61 _n. 2_; - _Didascalicon_, ii. 48 _n. 2_, =63=, =111=, 312, =357 and nn. 2-5=; - _De sacramentis Christianae fidei_, ii. 48 _n. 2_, =64 seqq.=, 365, - =395=, 540; - _Expositio in regulam beati Augustini_, ii. 62 _n. 2_; - _De arca Noë morali_, ii. 75 _n._, =365-7=; - _De arca Noë mystica_, ii. 367; - _De vanitate mundi_, ii. 75 _n._, =111-12=; - _Summa sententiarum_, ii. 356; - _Sermons on Ecclesiastes_, ii. 358-9; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17, 20, 457; ii. 404 - - Humanists, ii. 126 - - _Humiliati_ of Lombardy, i. 365 - - Hungarians, i. 241-=2= - - Huns, i. 112, 119, 193 - - _Huon de Bordeaux_, i. 564 - - Hy (Iona) Island, i. 136, =173= - - Hymns, Christian: - Abaelard, by, ii. 25, =207-9= - Estimate of, i. 21 - Evolution of, i. 347-9 _and_ _n._; ii. 196, =200 seqq.= - Hildegard's visions regarding, i. 459 - Hugo of St. Victor, by, ii. 86 _seqq._ - Sequences, development of, ii. 196, =201-6=; - Adam of St. Victor's, ii. 209-15 - - - Iamblicus, i. 42, =47=, 51, 56-7; ii. 295 - - Iceland, Norse settlement in, i. 153 - - Icelanders, characteristics and customs of, i. 154 - - Icelandic Sagas, _see_ Sagas - - Ideal _v._ actual, i. 353 _seqq._ - - Innocent II., Pope, i. =394=; ii. 10 - - Innocent III., Pope, i. 417, 481, 497; ii. =32=, =274=, 384, =398= - - Innocent IV., Pope, i. 506 - - _Intellectus agens_, ii. 464, =507 n. 2= - - Iona (Hy) Island, i. 136, =173= - - Ireland: - Celts in, _see_ Irish - Church of, missionary zeal of, i. 133, 136, 172 _seqq._ - Danish settlements in, i. 153 - Monasteries in, i. =153 n. 1=, 173 - Norse invasion of, i. 134 - Scholarship in, i. =180 n.=, 184-5 - - Irenaeus, Bp. of Lyons, i. 225 - - Irish: - Art of, i. 128 _n. 1_ - Characteristics of, i. =128=, 130, 133, 179 - History of, i. 127 _and_ _n._ - Influence of, on mediaeval feeling, i. 179 _and_ _n._ - Literature of, i. =128 and n. 2=, =129 seqq.=, 134; - poetry, ii. 194 - Missionary labours of, i. 133, 136, 172 _seqq._; - defect of, i. 179, 196 - Norse harryings of, i. 133-4; - intercourse with, i. 152 _n. 3_ - Oxford University, at, ii. 387 - - Irnerius, ii. 121, =260=, 380-1; - _Summa codicis_ of, ii. 255-9 - - Irrationality (_See also_ Miracles): - Neo-Platonic teaching as to, i. 42-4, 48, 52 - Patristic doctrine as to, i. 51-3 - - Isabella, Queen, wife of Edward II., i. 550-1 - - Isidore, Abp. of Seville, estimate of, i. 89, 103, 118 _n. 1_; - Bede compared with, i. 185-7; - _False Decretals_ attributed to, i. 118 _n. 1_; ii. =270=, 273; - works of, i. 104-9; - _Etymologiae_, _see_ Etymologies of Isidore; - _Origines_, i. 236, 300; - otherwise mentioned, i. 6, 88; ii. 46, 312 - - Italian people in relation to the antique, i. 7-8 - - Italy (_For particular districts, towns, etc., see their names_): - Celtic inroads into (3rd cent. B.C.), i. 24 - Church in, secularization of, i. 472 - Cities in: - Continuity of, through dark ages, i. 248, =494-5=; ii. 381 - Fighting amongst, i. 497-8 - Importance of, i. 241, 326, =494-5= - Continuity of culture and character in, i. =326=, 495; ii. =120-2= - Dante as influenced by, ii. 534-5 - Education in--lay, persistence of, i. 249-51; - clerical and monastic, i. 250 _n. 2_ - Eleventh-century conditions in, i. 327 - Feudalism not widely fixed in, i. 241 - Feuds in, i. 515-16 - Grammar as studied in, i. 250 _and_ _n. 2_; ii. 129 - Irish monasteries founded in, i. 174 - Literature of, mediaeval, lack of originality in, ii. 189; - eleventh-century verse, i. 251 _seqq._; ii. 165 _n. 1_, 186 - Lombard kingdom of (6th cent.), i. 115-16 - Medicine studied in, i. 250 _and_ _n. 4_, =251=; ii. 121 - Unification of, under Rome, i. 23 - - - Jacobus à Voragine, _Legenda aurea_ by, ii. 184 - - Jacques de Vitry, Bp. and Card. of Tusculum, i. 461 and n.; - Exempla of, i. 488 _n._, 490 - - Jerome, St., estimate of, i. 344, 354; - letter of, on asceticism, i. 335 _and_ =n. 1=; - love of the classics, ii. 107, 112, 531; - modification by, of classical Latin, ii. 152, 171; - two styles of, ii. 171 _and_ _n. 4_; - Life of Paulus by, i. 84, 86; - Life of Hilarion, i. 86; - _Contra Vigilantium_, i. 86; - otherwise mentioned, i. 56, 75, 76, 104 - - Jerome of Ascoli (Pope Nicholas IV.), ii. 491 - - Jews: - Agobard's tracts against, i. 232-=3= - Gregory the Great's attitude toward, i. 102 - Louis IX.'s attitude toward, i. 545 - Persecution of, i. 118, 332 - - Joachim, Abbot of Flora, _Evangelicum eternum_ of, 502 _n._, =510=, - =512-13=, 517 - - John, Bro., of Vicenza, i. 503-4 - - John X., Pope, i. 242 - - John XI., Pope, i. 242 - - John XII., Pope, i. 243; ii. =160-1= - - John XIII., Pope, i. 282 - - John XXII., Pope, _Decretales extravaganes_ of, ii. 272 - - John of Damascus, ii. 439 _n. 1_ - - John of Fidanza, _see_ Bonaventura - - John of Parma, Minister-General of Franciscans, i. 507, 508, =510-11= - - John of Salisbury, estimate of, ii. 118, 373-4; - Chartres studies described by, ii. 130-2; - attitude of, to the classics, ii. 114, 164, =173=, 531; - Latin style of, ii. 173-4; - _Polycraticus_, ii. 114-15, 174-5; - _Metalogicus_, ii. 173-4; - _Entheticus_, ii. 192; - _De septem septenis_, ii. 375 - - John the Deacon, _Chronicon Venetum_ by, i. 325-6 - - Joinville, Sire de, _Histories_ of St. Louis by, i. 539, =542-9= - - Jordanes, compend of Gothic history by, i. 94 - - Jordanes of Osnabrück cited, ii. 276 _n. 2_ - - Joseph of Exeter, ii. 225 _n. 2_ - - Jotsaldus, Life of Odilo by, i. 295-6 - - Judaism, emotional elements in, i. 331-2 - - Julianus, _Epitome_ of, ii. 242, =249=, 254 - - Jumièges cloister, ii. 201 - - Jurisprudence (_See also_ Roman law): - Irnerius an exponent of, ii. 256, 259 - Mediaeval renaissance of, ii. 265 - Roman law, in, beginnings of, ii. 232 - - Justinian, _Codex_, _Institutes_, _Novellae_ of, _see under_ Roman law; - _Digest of_, _see_ Roman law--Pandects - - Jutes, i. 140 - - Jutta, i. 447 - - - Keating quoted, i. 136 - - Kilwardby, Richard, Abp. of Canterbury, _De ortu et divisione - philosophiae_ of, ii. 313 - - Kilwardby, Robert, ii. 128 - - Knighthood, order of: - Admission to, persons eligible for, i. 527 - Code of, i. 524 - Hospitallers, i. 531 - Investiture ceremony, i. 525-8 - Love the service of, i. 568, =573= - Templars, i. 531-5 - Virtues and ideals of, i. 529-31, 567-8 - - Knowledge: - Cogitation, meditation, contemplation (Hugo's scheme), ii. 358 _seqq._ - Forms and modes of, Aquinas on--divine, ii. 451-5; - angelic, ii. 459-62; - human, ii. 463 _seqq._ - Grades of, Aquinas on, ii. 461, 467 - Primacy of, over will maintained by Aquinas, ii. 440-1 - - - La Ferté Monastery, i. 362 - - Lambert of Hersfeld, _Annals_ of, i. 313; ii. 167 - - Lambertus Audomarensis, _Liber Floridus_ of, ii. 316 _n. 2_ - - _Lancelot of the Lake_, i. 567, 569-70, =582-5=; - Old French prose version of, i. 583 _seqq._ - - Land tenure, feudal, i. 523-4 - - Lanfranc, Primate of England, i. 174 _n. 1_, =261 n.=, 273 - - _Langue d'oc_, ii. 222, 248 - - _Langue d'oil_, ii. 222, 248 - - Languedoc, chivalric society of (11th and 12th centuries), i. 572 - - Latin classics: - Abaelard's reference to, ii. 353 - Alexandrian antecedents of the verse, ii. 152 _n. 1_ - Artificial character of the prose, ii. 151 _n._ - Breadth of interest of, ii. 109 - Characteristics of, ii. 153 - Chartres a home of, i. 298; ii. 119 - Common elements in, ii. 149, 157 - Dante's attitude toward, ii. 541, 544; - his quotations from, ii. 543 _n. 1_ - Ecclesiastical attitude toward, i. 260; ii. 110 _seqq._, 396-7 - Familiarity with, of Damiani, i. 260; ii. 165; - Gerbert, i. 287-8; ii. 110; - John of Salisbury, ii. 114, 164, =173=, 531; - Bernard of Chartres, ii. 132-3; - Peter of Blois, ii. 133-4; - Hildebert, ii. =141-2=, =146=, 531 - Knowledge-storehouses for the Middle Ages, as, ii. 108 - Mastery of, complete, as affecting mediaeval writings, ii. 164 - Reverential attitude of mediaevals toward, ii. 107-9 - Scripture study as aided by study of, ii. 110, 112, 120 - Suggestions of new ideas from, for Northern peoples, ii. 136 - Themes of, in vernacular poetry, ii. 223 _seqq._ - Twelfth-century study of, ii. 117-18 - - Latin Fathers (_See also their names and_ Patristic thought): - Comparison of, with Greek, i. 68 - Style and diction of, ii. 150, 152 _seqq._ - Symbolism in, ii. 43-6 - Transmutation by, of Greek thought, i. 5, 34 _and_ _n._ - - Latin language: - Britain, position in, i. 10, 32 - Children's letters in, ii. 123 _n._ - Christianity as modifying, ii. 152, =154=, 156, 164, 171 - Continuity of, preserved by universal study of grammar, ii. =122-3=, - 151, 155 - "Cornificiani" in regard to, ii. =132=, 373 - Educational medium as, ii. 109 - Genius of, susceptible of change, ii. 149 - German acquisition of, i. 10, 32, =307-8=, =313=; ii. =123=, 155 - Grammar of, _see_ Grammar - Mediaeval modifications in, ii. 125, 164 - Patristic modifications of, ii. 150, 152 _seqq._; - Jerome's, ii. 152, 171 - Spelling of, mediaeval, i. 219 - Sphere of, ii. 219-20 - Supremacy of (during Roman conquest period), i. 4, =23-4 and n. 1=, - 25, =30-1= - Translations from, scanty nature of, ii. 331 _n. 2_ - Translations into, difficulties of, ii. 498 - Universality of, as language of scholars, ii. 219, 331 _n. 2_ - Vernacular, developments of, ii. 151 - Vitality of, in relation to vernacular tongues, ii. 219 - - Latin prose, mediaeval: - Antecedents of, ii. 151 _seqq._ - Best period of, ii. 167-8 - Bulk of, ii. 157 _n._ - Carolingian, ii. 158-60 - Characteristics of, ii. 156 - Estimation of, difficulties of, ii. 157 _and_ _n._ - Influences upon, summary of, ii. 156 - Prolixity and inconsequence of, ii. 154 - Range of, ii. 154 - Simplicity of word-order in, ii. 163 _n. 1_ - Stages of development of, ii. 157 _seqq._ - Style in, beginnings of, ii. 164 - Stylelessness of, in Carolingian period, ii. 158-60 - Thirteenth-century styles, ii. 179 - Value of, as expressing the mediaeval mind, ii. 156, 164 - - Latin verse, mediaeval: - Accentual and rhyming compositions, ii. 194; - two kinds of, ii. 196 - Antecedents of, ii. 187 _n. 1_ - Carmina Burana (Goliardic poetry), ii. 203, =217-19 and n.= - Development of, stages in, ii. 187 - Leonine hexameters, ii. 199 _and_ _n. 3_ - Metrical composition, ii. 187 _seqq._; - elegiac verse, ii. 190-2 _and_ _n. 1_; - hexameters, ii. 192; - Sapphics, ii. 192-3 _and_ _n. 1_ - Modi, ii. 215-16 - Rhyme, development of, ii. 195, =206= - - Law: - Barbarian, Latin codes of, ii. 244 _seqq._ - Barbaric conception of, ii. 245, 248-9 - _Breviarium_, _see under_ Roman law - Canon, _see_ Canon law - English, principles of, i. 141-2 - Grammar in relation to, ii. 121 - Lombard codes, i. =115=; ii. 242, =246=, 248, 253; - _Concordia_, ii. 259 - Natural: - Gratian on, ii. 268-9 - _Jus gentium_ in relation to, ii. =234 and n.=, 268 - Occam on, ii. 519 - Sacraments of, ii. 74 _and_ _n. 1_ - Supremacy of, ii. 269, 279 - Roman, _see_ Roman law - Salic, ii. 245-6 - Territorial basis of, i. 123; ii. 247 - Tribal basis of, i. 123; ii. =245-7= - Visigothic codification of, in Spain, i. 118 - - Leander, Bp. of Seville, i. 118 _n. 1_ - - Légonais, Chrétien, ii. 230 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Leo, Brother, _Speculum perfectionis_ by, ii. 183-4 - - Leo I. (the Great), Pope, i. 113, 116 - - Leo IX., Pope, i. 243 - - Leon, Sir Guy de, i. 552-3 - - Leon, Sir Hervé de, i. 552-3 - - Leowigild, i. 117 _n. 2_, 118 _n. 1_ - - Lerins monastery, i. 195 - - Lewis, Lord, of Spain, i. 552-3 - - Liberal arts, _see_ Seven Liberal Arts - - Liutgard of Tongern, i. 463-5 - - Liutprand, Bp. of Cremona i. =256-7=; ii. 161 _n. 1_ - - Liutprand, King of Lombards, i. 115-16 - - Logic (_See also_ Dialectic): - Albertus Magnus on, ii. =313-15=, 504, 506 - Aristotelian, mediaeval apprehension of, ii. 329 (_See also_ - Aristotle--_Organon_) - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. 505 - Gerbert's preoccupation with, i. 282, 289, =292= - Grammar in relation to, ii. 127 _seqq._, 333-4; - in Abaelard's work, ii. 346 - Importance of, in Middle Ages, i. 236; ii. 297 - Nature of, ii. 333; - schoolmen's views on, ii. 313-15, 333 - Occam's views on, ii. 522 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 71 - Raban's view of, i. 222 - Scholastic classification of, ii. 313 _seqq._ - Scholastic decay in relation to, ii. 523 - Second stage of mediaeval development represented by, ii. 332-4 - Specialisation of, in 12th cent., ii. 119 - Theology in relation to, ii. =340 n.=, 346 - Twofold interpretation of, ii. 333 - Universals, problem of, ii. 339 _seqq._; - Abaelard's treatment of, ii. 342, =348= - - Lombard, Peter, estimate of, ii. 370; - Gratian compared with, ii. 270; - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. 497; - _Books of Sentences_ by, i. 17, 18; ii. 134, 370; - method of the work, ii. 306; - Aquinas' _Summa_ contrasted with it, ii. 307-10; - its classification scheme, ii. 322-4; - Bonaventura's commentary on it, ii. 408 - - Lombards: - Italian kingdom of (6th cent.), i. 115-16 - Italian influence on, i. 7, 249 - Law codes of, _see under_ Law - - Louis of Bavaria, Emp., ii. 518 - - Louis I. (the Pious), King of France, i. 233, 239, =359=; - false capitularies ascribed to, ii. 270 - - Louis VI. (the Fat), King of France, i. 304-5, 394, 400; ii. 62; - Hildebert's letter on encroachments of, ii. 140, 172 - - Louis IX. (the Saint), King of France, Geoffrey's _Vita_ of, i. 539-42; - Joinville's _Histoire of_, i. 542-9; - Testament of, i. 540 _n. 1_; - otherwise mentioned, i. 476, 507-=9=, 515 - - Love, Aquinas on distinguishing definitions of, ii. 475-6 - - Love, chivalric: - Antique conception of love contrasted with, i. 575 - _Chansons de geste_ as concerned with, i. 564 - Code of, by Andrew the Chaplain, i. 575-6 - Dante's exposition of, ii. 555-6 - Estimate of, mediaeval, i. 568, 570 - Literature of, _see_ Chivalry--Literature - Marriage in relation to, i. 571 _and_ _n. 2_ - _Minnelieder_ as depicting, ii. 30 - Nature of, i. 572-5, 582-7 - Stories exemplifying--_Tristan_, i. 577 _seqq._; - _Lancelot_, 582 _seqq._ - - Love, spiritual: - Aquinas' discussion of, ii. 472-3, 476 - Bernard of Clairvaux as exemplifying, i. 394 _seqq._ - - Lupus, Servatus, Abbot of Ferrières, i. 215; - ii. 113 - - Luxeuil, i. 175-7 - - Lyons: - Diet of the "Three Gauls" at, i. 30 - Law studies at, ii. 250 - - - Macrobius, _Saturnalia_ of, ii. 116 _and_ _n. 4_ - - Magic, i. =46-8=; ii. 500 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Majolus, Abbot of Cluny, i. 359 - - Manichaeism, i. =49=; ii. =44=, 283 - - Manny, Sir Walter, i. 552-4 - - Mapes (Map), Walter, i. =475=, 567; ii. 219 _n._ - - Marie, Countess, de Champagne, i. 566, 573, =576= - - Marie de France, i. =566=, 567, 573; - _Eliduc_ by, i. 571 _n. 2_ - - Marinus (hermit), i. 373 - - Marozia, i. 242 - - Marriage: - Christian attitude toward, ii. 8; - ecclesiastical view, ii. 529 - Feudalism as affecting, i. 571, 586 - German view of, ii. 30 - - Marsilius of Padua, ii. 277 _n. 2_ - - Martin, St., of Tours, i. 334; - Life of, i. 52 and _n._, 84, 85 _n. 2_, =86= - - Martyrs: - Mediaeval view of, i. 483 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 86 - - Mary, St., of Ognies, i. =462-3=; - nature of visions of, i. 459 - - Massilia, i. 26 - - Mathematics: - Bacon's views on, ii. 499-500 - Gerbert's proficiency in, i. 282, =288= - - Mathew Paris cited, ii. 487 - - Matthew of Vendome, _Ars versificatoria_ by, ii. 190 _and_ _n. 5_ - - Maurus, Rabanus, _see_ Rabanus - - Mayors of the palace, i. 240 - - Mechthild of Magdeburg, i. 20, 345; ii. 365; - Book of, i. 465 _and_ _n. 2_-70 - - Mediaeval thought: - Abstractions, genius for, ii. 280 - Characteristics of, i. 13 - Commentaries characteristic of, ii. 390, 553 _n. 4_ - Conflict inherent in, i. 22; ii. =293-4= - Deference of, toward the past, i. 13; ii. 534 - Emotionalizing by, of patristic Christianity, i. 345 - Metalogics rather than metaphysics the final stage of, ii. 337 - Moulding forces of, i. 3, 5, 12; ii. =293-4= - Orthodox character of, ii. 283 _and_ _n._ - Political theorizing, ii. 275 _seqq._ - Problems of, origins of, ii. 294-5 - Restatement and rearrangement of antique matter the work of, i. 13-15, - =224=, 237, =292=, 342; ii. 297, 329, 341: - Culmination of third stage in, ii. 394 - Emotional transformations of the antique, i. 18 _seqq._ - Intellectual transformations of the antique, i. 14 _seqq._ - Salvation the main interest of, i. =58-9=, 334; ii. =296-7=, 300 - Scholasticism, _see that heading_ - Superstitions accepted by, i. 487 - Symbolism the great influence in, ii. 43, 102, 365 - Three stages of, ii. 329 _seqq._ - Ultimate intellectual interests of, ii. 287 _seqq._ - - Medicine: - Relics used in, i. 299 - Smattering of, included in Arts course, ii. 250 - Study of--in Italy, i. 250 _and_ _n. 4_, =251=; ii. 383 _n._ - at Chartres, i. 299; ii. 372 - - Mendicant Orders, _see_ Dominican _and_ Franciscan - - Merovingian Kingdom: - Character of, i. 208 - Church under, i. 194 - Extent of, i. 210 _n. 3_ - German conquests of, i. 121, 138 - - Merovingian period: - Barbarism of, i. 9 - Continuity of, with Carolingian, i. 210-12 - King's law in, ii. 247 - - Merovingians, estimate of, i. 195 - - Metaphor distinguished from allegory, ii. 41 _n._ (_See also_ Symbolism) - - Metaphysics: - Final stage of mediaeval development represented by, ii. 335-7 - Logic, mediaeval, in relation to, ii. 334 - Theology dissociated from, by Duns, ii. 510, 516, =517= - - Michelangelo quoted, ii. 113 - - Middle Ages (_See also_ Mediaeval thought): - Beginning of, i. 6 - Extremes characteristic of, i. 355 - - Milan, lawyers in, ii. 251 _n. 2_ - - _Miles_, signification of word, i. 525-6 _and_ _n. 2_ - - _Minnelieder_, ii. 28-31 - - Minorites, i. 430 (_See also_ Franciscan Order) - - Miracles (_See also_ Irrationality): - Devil, concerned with, i. 488 _seqq._ - _Nostre Dame, Miracles de_, i. 491-2 - Patristic attitude toward, i. =85-6=, =100=, 182 - Roman Empire aided by, belief as to, ii. 536 - Salimbene's instance of, i. 516 - Universal acceptance of, i. =74=, 182 - _Vitae sanctorum_ in regard to, i. 85 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Mithraism, i. 49 - - Modena (Mutina), i. 24 - - Modi, ii. 215-16 - - Monasteries: - Immunities granted to, i. 523 _and_ _n._ - _Regula_ of, meaning of, ii. 62 - - Monasticism (_For particular Monasteries, Orders, etc., see their - names_): - Abuses of, i. 357-8; Rigaud's _Register_ quoted, i. 477-481 - Benedictine rule: - Adoption of--in England, i. 184; - among the Franks, i. 199, 201; - generally, i. 358 - Papal approval of, i. 335 - Cassiodorus a pioneer in literary functions of, i. 94 - General mediaeval view regarding, i. =472=; ii. 529 - Ideal _v._ actual, i. 355 - Ireland, in, i. 135 _n. 1_ - Lament over deprivations of, ii. 218-19 - Modifications of, by St. Francis, i. 366 - Motives of, i. 357 - Nature of, i. 336-7 - Nuns, _see_ Women--monastic life - Origin of, i. 335 - Pagan literature condemned by, i. 260 - Popularity of, in 5th and 6th centuries, i. 195-6 - Poverty--of monks, i. 365; - of Orders, i. 366, =425=, =430= - Reforms of, i. 358 _seqq._ - Schools, monastic, in Italy, i. 250 _n. 2_ - Sex-relations as regarded by, i. 338 - Studies of, in 6th cent., i. 94, 95 - Subordinate monasteries, supervision of, i. 361 - Uncloistered, _see_ Dominican _and_ Franciscan - _Vita activa_ accepted by, i. 363-6 - _Vita contemplativa_, _see that title_ - Women vilified by devotees of, i. =354 n.=, 521 _n. 2_, 532, =533=; - ii. 58 - - Montanists, 332 - - Monte Cassino, i. 250 _n. 2_, 252-3 - - Montfort, Countess of, i. 552-4 - - Moorish conquest of Spain, i. 9, 118 - - Morimond monastery, i. 362 - - Mosaics, i. 345-7 - - Music: - Arithmetic in relation to, ii. 291 - Chartres studies in, i. 299 - Poetry and, interaction of, ii. 195-=6=, =201-2= - Scholastic classification of, ii. 313 - - Mysticism: - Hugo's strain of, ii. 361-3 - Nature of, i. 443 _n. 1_; ii. =363 and n. 4= - Symbolism as expressing, _see_ Symbolism - - - Narbo, i. 26 - - Narbonensis, _see_ Provincia - - Narbonne, law studies at, ii. 250 - - Natural history and science, _see_ Physical science - - Nemorarius, Jordanus, ii. 501 - - Neo-Platonism: - Arabian versions of Aristotle touched with, ii. 389 - Augustinian, i. =55=; ii. 403 - Christianity compared with, i. 51; - Patristic habit of mind compared, ii. 295 - Ecstasy as regarded by, i. 331 - Metaphysics so named by, ii. 336 - Pseudo-Dionysian, i. 54 _and_ _n. 1_ - Tenets and nature of, i. 41-9; - a mediatorial system, i. 50, 54, 57-8, 70 - Trinity of, ii. 355 - - Neustria, i. 200, =209=, 239 - - _Nibelungenlied_, i. 145-6, =148-9=, 152, 193, 203 _n. 2_; ii. 220 - - Nicholas II., Pope, i. 243 _n. 2_ - - Nicholas III., Pope, i. 504 - - Nicholas IV., Pope (Jerome of Ascoli), ii. 491 - - Nicholas, St., sequence for festival of, ii. 213-15 - - Nicolas of Damascus, ii. 427 - - Nilus, St., Abbot of Crypta-Ferrata, i. 374 _n._ - - Nithard, Count, i. 234-5 - - Nominalism, i. 303 - - Norbert, ii. 344 - - Normandy, Norse occupation of, i. 153 - - Norsemen (Scandinavians, Vikings): - Characteristics of, i. 138, =154-5= - Continental and insular holdings of, i. 153 - Eddic poems of, i. 154-5 _and_ _n. 3_ - Irish harassed by, i. 133-4; - later relations, i. 152 _n. 3_ - Jumièges cloister sacked by, ii. 201 - Metal-working among, i. 152 _n. 3_ - Ravages by, in 8th and 9th centuries, i. 152-3 - _Sagas_ of, i. 155 _seqq._ - Settling down of, i. 240 - - Notker, i. 308-9 _and_ _n. 1_; sequences of, ii. 201-2 - - Numbers, symbolic phantasies regarding, i. 72 _and_ _nn. 1, 2_; ii. 49 - _n. 3_ - - - Oberon, fairy king, i. 564 _and_ _n._ - - Occam, William of, career of, ii. 518; - estimate of his work, ii. 522-3; - attitude toward Duns, ii. 518 _seqq._; - on faith and reason, ii. 519; - on Universals, ii. 520-1 - - Odilo, Abbot of Cluny, i. =294-5=, 359; - Jotsaldus' biography of, quoted, i. 295-6 - - Odo, Abbot of Cluny, i. 343 _and_ _n. 3_, 359; - Epitome by, of Gregory's _Moralia_, i. 16 _n. 4_; ii. 161 _and_ _n. 2_; - Latin style of _Collationes_, ii. 161-2 - - Odo of Tournai, ii. 340 _n._ - - Odoacer, i. =114=, 145 - - Olaf, St., i. 156, =160-1= - - Olaf Tryggvason, King, i. 156, =161-2= - - Old French: - Formation of, ii. 155 - Latin as studied by speakers of, ii. 123 - Poetry, ii. 222, =225 seqq.= - - Ontology, _see_ Metaphysics - - Ordeal, trial by, i. 232-3 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Ordericus Vitalis, i. 525; - _Historia ecclesiastica_ by, ii. 176-8 - - _Organon_, _see under_ Aristotle - - Origen, estimate of, i. 51, 62-3; - on Canticles, i. =333=; ii. 369; - _De principiis_, i. 68; - otherwise mentioned, i. 53, 76, 80, 87, 104, 411; ii. 64 - - Orleans School: - Classical studies at, ii. 119 _n. 2_, 127 - Law studies at, ii. 250 - Rivalry of, with Chartres, ii. 119 _n. 2_ - - Orosius, i. =82= _and_ _n. 1_, 188 - - Ostrogoths, i. 7, 113, =114-15=, 120 - - Otfrid the Frank, i. =203-4=, 308 - - Other world: - Irish beliefs as to, i. 131 _and_ _n. 2_ - Voyages to, mediaeval narratives of, i. 444 _n. 1_ - - Othloh, i. 315; - visions of, i. 443; - _Book concerning the Temptations of a certain Monk_, i. 316-23 - - Otric, i. 289-91 - - Otto I. (the Great), Emp., i. =241-3=, 256-7, 309 - - Otto II., Emp., i. 243, =282-3=, =289= - - Otto III., Emp., i. =243=, 283, 284; - _Modus Ottinc_ in honour of, ii. 215-216 - - Otto IV. (of Brunswick), Emp., i. 417; ii. =32-3= - - Otwin, Bp. of Hildesheim, i. 312 - - Ovid, _Ars amatoria_ of, i. 574-5; - mediaeval allegorizing of, and of _Metamorphoses_, ii. 230 - - Oxford University: - Characteristics of, ii. 388-9 - Curriculum at, ii. 387-8 - Foundation of, ii. 380, =386-7= - Franciscan fame at, ii. 400 - Greek studies at, ii. 120, 391, 487 - - - Palladius, Bp., i. 172 - - Pandects, _see under_ Roman law - - Papacy (_See also_ Church _and_ Popes): - Ascendancy of, over prelacy, i. 304 - Character of, ii. 32 - Denunciations against, i. 475; ii. 34-5, 218 - Empire's relations with: - Concordat of Worms, i. 245 _n. 4_ - Conflict (11th cent.), i. 244; - (12th cent.), i. 245 _n. 4_; ii. 273; - (13th cent.), ii. 33, =34-5=; - (14th cent.), ii. 518; - allegory as a weapon in, ii. 60 - Recognition of ecclesiastical authority, ii. 265-7, 272-3 - Reforms by Otto I., i. 243 - Gregory VII.'s claims for, i. 245; ii. 274 - Mendicant Orders' relations with, ii. =398=, 509 - Nepotism of, i. =504-5=, 511 - Schisms of popes and anti-popes, i. 264 - Temporal power of, rise of, i. 116; - claims advanced, i. 245; - realized, ii. 274, 276-7 - - Papinian cited, ii. 235 - - Paraclete oratory: - Abaelard at, ii. 10, 344 - Heloïse at, ii. 10 _seqq._ - - Paradise: - Dante's _Paradiso_, _see under_ Dante - Hildegard's visions of, i. 455-6 - - Paris: - Schools: - Growth of, ii. 380 - Notre Dame and St. Geneviève, ii. 383 - St. Victor, ii. =61-3=, 143, 383 - University: - Aristotle prohibited at, ii. 391-2 - Authorities on, ii. 381 _n._ - Bacon at, ii. 488 - Bonaventura at, ii. 403 - Curriculum at, ii. 387-8 - Dominicans and Franciscans at, ii. 399 - Prominence of, in philosophy and theology, ii. 283, =378-9= - Rise, constitution, and struggles of, ii. 119-20, 383-6 - Viking sieges of, i. 153 - - Parma, i. 497, 505-6 - - _Parsival_: - Chrétien's version of, i. 567, =588-9= - Wolfram's version of, i. 12 _n._, 571 _n. 2_, =589-613=; ii. =29= - - Paschal controversy, _see_ Eucharistic - - Paschasius, Radbertus, Abbot of Corbie i. 215, =225-7= - - Patrick, St., i. 172-3 - - Patristic thought and doctrine (_See also_ Greek thought, patristic, - _and_ Latin Fathers): - Abaelard's attitude toward, ii. 305 - Achievement of exponents of, i. 86-7 - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. 492 - Completeness of schemes presented by, ii. 394 - Emotion as synthesized by, i. 340-2 - Intellectual rather than emotional, i. 343-4; - emotionalizing of, by mediaeval thinkers, i. 345 - Latin medium of, i. 5 - Logic as regarded by, i. 71 - Mediaeval attitude toward, i. 16 - Miracle accepted by, i. 51-3, =85-6= - Natural knowledge as treated by, i. =61 seqq.=, =72-3=, =76-7=, 99; - ii. 393 - Pagan philosophy permeating exponents of, i. =33-4=, =58=, 61 - Philosophy as classified by, ii. 312 - Rearrangement of, undertaken in Carolingian period, i. =224=, 237 - Symbolism of, _see under_ Symbolism - - Paulinus of Aquileia, i. 215 - - Paulinus, St., of Nola, i. =86=, 126 _n. 2_ - - Paulus--on _jus_, ii. 237: - _Sententiae_ of, ii. 243 - - Paulus, St., i. 84, 86 - - Paulus Diaconus, i. 214-15, 252 - - Pavia, law school at, ii. 251, =259= - - Pedro, Don, of Castille, i. 554-5 - - Pelagians, i. 225 - - Pelagius, i. 172 _n._ - - Peripatetic School, i. 38-9 - (_See also_ Aristotle) - - Peter, Bro., of Apulia, i. 512-14 - - Peter, disciple of St. Francis, i. 426 - - Peter Damiani, _see_ Damiani - - Peter of Blois, ii. 133-4 - - Peter of Ebulo, ii. 190 - - Peter of Maharncuria, ii. 502-4 - - Peter of Pisa, i. 214 - - Peter the Venerable, Abbot of Cluny, i. 360; - letter of, to Heloïse, ii. 25-7 - - Petrarch, ii. 188, =219= - - Petrus Riga, _Aurora_ of, ii. 127 - - Philip VI., King of France, i. 551 - - Philip Augustus, King of France, ii. 33 - - Philip Hohenstauffen, Duke of Suabia, i. 481; ii. =32=, 33 - - Philo, i. 37, =231=; - allegorizing of, ii. =42=, 364 - - Philosophy: - Division of, schemes of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - End of: - Abaelard's and Hugo's views on, ii. 352, 361 - John of Salisbury on, ii. 375 - - Philosophy, antique: - Divine source of, Bacon's view as to, ii. 507 _n. 2_ - "First" (Aristotelian), ii. 335 - Position of, in Roman Empire (3rd-6th cent.), i. 34 (_See also_ - Greek thought) - - Philosophy, Arabian, ii. =389-90=, 400-1 - - Philosophy, scholastic: - Completeness of, in Aquinas, ii. 395 - Divisions of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - Importance of, as intellectual interest, ii. 287-8 - Physical sciences included in, _see_ Physical science - Theology as the end of (Abaelard's and Hugo's view), ii. 352, 361 - Theology distinguished from, ii. 284, 288; - by Aquinas, ii. =290=, 311; - by Bonaventura, ii. 410 _and_ _n._; - considered as superior to, by Aquinas, ii. 289-=90=, =292=; - dominated by (Bacon's contention), ii. 496; - dissociated from, by Duns and Occam, ii. 510, =517=, 519 - - Physical science: - Albertus Magnus' attitude toward, ii. 423; - his works on, ii. 425-9 - Bacon's predilection for, ii. 486-7 - Classifications of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - Experimental science or method, ii. 502-8 - Mediaeval attitude toward, i. 300 - Oxford school of, ii. 389 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 63, 66-7, =72-3=, =76-7=, 99; ii. 393 - Theology as subserved by, ii. =67=, 111, =289=, =486=, =492=, =496=, - 500, 530; - denial of the theory--by Duns, ii. 510; - by Occam, ii. 519-20 - - _Physiologus_, i. =76-7 and n.=, 300; ii. 83 - - Pippin of Heristal, i. =208-9=; ii. 197 - - Pippin of Neustria, i. 115, =200=, =209=, 210 and _n. 1_; ii. 273 - - Pippin, son of Charlemagne, ii. 197 - - Placentia (Piacenza), i. 24 - - Placentinus, ii. 261-2 - - Plato, supra-rationalism of, i. 42; - allegorizing by, i. 36; ii. 364; - doctrine of ideas, i. =35=; ii. 339-340; - Aquinas on this doctrine, ii. 455, 465; - Augustine of Hippo as influenced by, ii. 403; - "salvation" suggestion in, ii. 296 _n. 2_; - _Republic_, i. 36; - _Timaeus_, i. =35-6=, 291; ii. 64, 69, =118=, 348, 370, 372, =377= - - Platonism: - Alanus' _Anticlaudianus_, in, ii. 100 _n. 2_ - Augustinian, i. 55 - Nature of, i. =35-6=, 57, 59 - Philosophy as classified by, ii. 312 - - Pliny the Elder, _Historia naturalis_ by, i. 39-40, 75 - - Plotinus, estimate of, i. 43, 45; - personal affinity of Augustine with, i. 55-7; - philosophic system of, i. =42=-6, 50, 51; - _Enneads_ of, i. 55; - otherwise mentioned, i. 50, 51; ii. 64 - - Plutarch, i. 44 - - Poetry, mediaeval: - Carmina Burana (Goliardic poetry), ii. 203, =217-19 and n.= - Chivalric, _see_ Chivalry--Literature - Hymns, _see that heading_ - Italian, of 11th cent., i. =251 seqq.=; ii. 186 - Latin, _see_ Latin verse - Modi, ii. 215-16 - Music and, interaction of, ii. 195-=6=, =201-2= - Old High German, ii. 194 - Popular verse, _see sub-headings_ Carmina _and_ Modi; _also_ Vernacular - Prosody, Alexander de Villa-Dei on, ii. 126 - Vernacular: - Germanic, Norse, and Anglo-Saxon, ii. 220-1 - Romance, ii. 221-3, 225 _seqq._ - - Pontigny monastery, i. 362 - - Poor of Lyons (Waldenses), i. 364, =365 n.=; ii. 34 - - Popes (_See also_ Papacy; _and for particular popes see their names_): - Avignon, at, ii. 510 - Decretals of, _see under_ Canon law - Degradation of (10th cent.), i. 242 - Election of, freed from lay control, i. 243 _n. 2_ - - Popular rights, growth of, in 12th cent., i. 305 - - Porphyry, i. 42, =44-7=, 50, 51, 56; ii. 295; - _Isagoge_ (Introduction to the _Categories_ of Aristotle), i. 45, 92, - 102; ii. 312, =314 n.=, 333, =339= - - Preaching Friars, _see_ Dominican Order - - Predestination, Gottschalk's controversy as to, i. 224-5, 227-=8= - - Priscianus, i. 71; ii. 119 _n. 2_; - _Institutiones grammaticae_ of (_Priscianus major_ and _minor_), ii. - 124-5 - - Prosper of Aquitaine, i. 106 _n. 1_ - - Provençal literature, i. 571; ii. 168; - Alba (aube) poetry, i. 20, =571=; ii. 30 - - Provincia (Narbonensis): - Antique, the, in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 9 - Latinization of, i. 26-7 _and_ _n. 1_ - Ligurian inhabitants of, i. 126 - Teutonic invasion of, i. 125 - - Prudentius, ii. 63; - _Psychomachia_ of, ii. 102-4 - - Pseudo-Callisthenes, _Life and Deeds of Alexander_ by, ii. 224, 225, - =229-230= - - Pseudo-Dionysius, ii. 302; - _Celestial Hierarchy_ by, i. 54 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Pseudo-Turpin, ii. 319 - - Ptolemy of Alexandria, i. 40 - - Purgatory: - Dante's _Purgatorio_, _see under_ Dante - Hildegard's visions as to, i. 456 _n._ - Popular belief as to, i. 486 - - - _Quadrivium_, _see under_ Seven Liberal Arts - - - Rabanus Maurus, Abp. of Mainz, allegorizing of Scripture by, ii. 46-7; - interest in the vernacular, i. 308; - works of, i. 222-41; - _De universo_, i. 300; ii. 316 _n. 2_; - _Allegoriae in universam sacram scripturam_, ii. 48-9; - _De laudibus sanctae crucis_, ii. 49 _n. 3_; - otherwise mentioned, i. 16, 100, 215; ii. 302-303, 312, 332 - - Race, tests for determining, i. 124 _n._ - - Radbertus, _see_ Paschasius - - _Raoul de Cambrai_, i. 563-4 - - Ratherius, i. 309 and =n. 2= - - Ratramnus of Corbie, i. 215, 227; ii. 199 - - Ravenna: - Gerbert's disputation in, i. 289-91 - Grammar and rhetoric studies at, ii. 121 - Law studies at, ii. 251, 252 - S. Apollinaris in Classe, i. 373, 377 - - Raymond of Agiles quoted, i. 536 - - Realism, Duns' exposition of, ii. 514 _and_ _n._ - - Reason _v._ authority controversy: - Berengar's position in, i. 302-3 - Eriugena's contribution to, i. 229-=30= - - Reccared, i. 118 _nn._ - - Reinhard, Bp. of Halberstadt, ii. 62 - - Relics of saints and martyrs: - Arms enshrining, i. 528 - Curative use of, i. 299 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 86, 101 _n._ - - Renaissance, misleading nature of term, i. 211 _n._ - - _Renaud de Montaubon_, i. 564 - - Rheims cathedral school, i. 293 - - Rhetoric: - Chartres study of, i. 298 - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 67 - Predominance of, i. 109 _and_ _n._ - - Richard, Abbot of Jumièges, i. 480-1 - - Richard of Middleton, ii. 512 - - Richard of St. Victor, ii. 80, =87= _and_ _n. 2_, =367 n. 2=, 540 - - Richer, Abbot of Monte Cassino, i. 252, 300 _n. 2_; - history of Gerbert by, quoted, i. 287-91 - - Ricimer, Count, i. 113 - - Riddles, didactic, i. 218-19 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Rigaud, Eude (Oddo Rigaldus), Abp. of Rouen, i. =476=, =508=, 509; - _Register_ of, quoted, i. 476-81 - - Robert, cousin of St. Bernard, i. 395-7 - - Robert of Normandy, ii. 139 - - Rollo, Duke, of Normandy, i. 153, 239-40 - - _Roman de la rose_, i. =586-7=; ii. 103 _and_ _nn._, 104, 223 - - _Roman de Thebes_, ii. 227, =229 n.= - - Roman Empire: - Barbarization of, i. 5, 7, =111 seqq.= - Billeting of soldiers, custom as to, i. 114 _n._, 117 - Christianity accepted by, i. 345 - Church, relations with, ii. 265-7, 272-3 - Cities enjoying citizenship of--in Spain, i. 26 _and_ _n. 2_; - in Gaul, i. 30 - City life of, i. 27, 326 - Clientage system under, i. 117 _n. 2_ - Dante's views on, ii. 536 - Decadence of, i. =84=, 97, =111= - Eastern, _see_ Eastern Empire - Enduring nature of, conditions of, i. 238 _n._ - Greek thought diffused by, i. 4 - Italian people under, i. 7 - Jurisconsults of, authority and capacity of, ii. 232-3 _and_ _n._, 236 - Latinization of Western Europe due to, i. 23 _seqq._, 110 - Mediaeval attitude toward, i. 11 - Scandinavians under influence of, i. 152 _n. 3_ - - Roman law: - Auditory, Imperial or Praetorian, ii. 233 _n._, 235 _n. 1_ - Bologna famed for study of, ii. =121=, 251, =259-62=, 378 - _Brachylogus_, ii. 254-5 - _Breviarium_ and its _Interpretatio_, i. =117=; ii. 243-4; - Epitomes of, ii. 244, =249-50=; - _Brachylogus_ influenced by, ii. 254 - Burgundian tolerance of, i. 121; - code (_Papianus_), ii. 239, =242= - Church under, ii. 265 _and_ _n. 2_ - Codes of: - Barbaric, nature of, ii. 244 - (_See also sub-headings_ Breviarium _and_ Burgundian) - Gregorianus', ii. 240, 243 - Hermogenianus', ii. 240, 243 - Nature of, ii. 239-40 - Theodosian, ii. 240 _and_ _n. 2_, 241 _n. 2_, 242-3, =249=, =266-7 - and n. 1= - _Codex_ of Justinian, ii. =240=, =242=, 253: - Azo's and Accursius' work on, ii. 263-4 - Glosses to, ii. 249-50 - Placentinus' _Summa_ of, ii. 262 - _Summa Perusina_ an epitome of, ii. =249=, 252 - _Constitutiones_ and _rescripta principum_, ii. =235 and n. 1=, 239, - =240= - Custom recognized by, ii. 236 - Digest of, by Justinian, _see subheading_ Pandects - Elementary education including smattering of, ii. 250 - Epitomes of, various, ii. 249-50; - _Epitome of Julianus_, ii. 242, =249=, 254 - Glosses: - Accursius' _Glossa ordinaria_, ii. 263-4 - Irnerius', ii. 261 _and_ _n. 1_ - Justinian's _Codex_, to, ii. 249-50 - Gothic adoption of, i. 114 - _Institutes_ of Gaius, ii. 241, 243 - _Institutes_ of Justinian, ii. =241=, 243, =254=: - Azo's _Summa_ of, ii. 263 - Placentinus' _Summa_ of, ii. 262 - Jurisprudential element in early stages of, ii. 232 - _Jus_ identified with _aequitas_, ii. 235 - _Jus civile_, ii. 237, 257 - _Jus gentium_: - _Jus naturale_ in relation to, ii. 234 _and_ _n._ - Origin of, ii. 233-4 - Popular rights as regarded by, ii. 278 - _Jus praetorium_, ii. 235 - _Lex romana canonice compta_, ii. 252 - Lombard attitude toward, i. 115 - _Novellae_ of Justinian, ii. 240, =242= - Pandects (Justinian's _Digest_), ii. 235 _and_ _n. 2_, =236-8=, - =241=-2, 248, 253, 255: - Accursius' _Glossa_ on, ii. 264 - Glossators' interpretation of, ii. 265 - Permanence of, ii. 236 - _Petrus_ (_Petri exceptiones_), ii. 252-4 - Placentinus' work in, ii. 261-2 - Principles of, examples of, ii. 237-8; - possession and its rights, ii. 256-8 - Principles of interpretation of, ii. 256 - Provincia, in, i. 27 _n. 1_ - _Responsa_ or _auctoritas jurisprudentium_, ii. 235-6 - Sources of, multifarious, ii. 235 - Sphere of, ii. 248 - Study of, centres for--in France, ii. 250; - in Italy, ii. =121=, 251 _and_ _n. 2_, =259-62=, 378 - _Summa codicis Irnerii_, ii. 255 - Theodosian Code, _see under subheading_ Codes - Treatises on, mediaeval, ii. 252 _seqq._ - Twelve Tables, ii. 232, 236 - Visigothic code of, _see subheading_ _Breviarium_ - - Romance, spirit of, i. 418 - - Romance languages (_See also_ Old French): - Characteristics of, ii. 152 - Dante's attitude toward, ii. 537 - Latin as modified by, ii. 155 - Literature of, ii. 221-3 - (_See also_ Provençal literature) - Strength of, i. 9 - - Romance nations, mediatorial rôle of, i. =110-11=, 124 - - _Romans d'aventure_, i. =564-5=, 571 _n. 2_ - - Rome: - Bishops of, _see_ Popes - Factions in (10th cent.), i. 242 - Law School in, ii. 251, 255 - Mosaics in, i. 347 - Verses to, i. 348; ii. =200= - - Romualdus, St., youth of, i. 373; - austerities of, i. 374, =379=, 381; - relations with his father, i. 374-5; - harshness and egotism of, i. 375-7; - at Vallis de Castro, i. 376-7, 380; - at Sytrio, i. 378-9; - death of, i. 372 _n. 3_, =380=; - Commentary of, on the Psalter, i. 379 - - Romulus Augustulus, Emp., i. 114 - - Roncesvalles, battle of, i. 559 _n. 2_-62 - - Roscellinus, i. 303-4; ii. 339-=40= - - Rothari, King of Lombards, i. 115; ii. 251 - - Ruadhan, St., i. 132-3 - - Ruotger, Life of Abp. Bruno by, i. 310; ii. 162 _and_ _n. 1_ - - - _Sacra doctrina_, _see_ Theology - - Sacraments, _see under_ Church - - _Sagas_, Norse: - Character of, i. 12 _n._, 155 _seqq._ - _Egil_, i. 162-4 - _Gisli_, i. 158 - _Heimskringla_, i. 160-2 _and_ _n. 2_ - _Njala_, i. 157 _and_ =n.=, =159=, =164-7= - Oral tradition of, ii. 220 - - St. Denis monastery, ii. 10, =344= - - St. Emmeram convent (Ratisbon), i. 315, =316= - - St. Gall monastery, i. 257-8; - Notker's work at, ii. 201-2 - - St. Victor monastery and school, ii. =61-3=, 143, 383 - - Saints: - Austerities of, i. 374 _and_ _n._, 375 - Interventions of, mediaeval beliefs as to, i. 487-8, 490 - Irish clergy so called, i. 135 _n. 2_ - Lives of: - Compend. of (_Legenda Aurea_), ii. 184 - Conventionalized descriptions in, i. 393 _n. 1_ - Defects of, i. 494 - Estimate of, i. =84-5 and nn.= - otherwise mentioned, i. 298, 300 - Relics of, _see_ Relics - Visions of, i. 444-5 - Worship of, i. 101 - - Salerno medical school, i. =250 n. 4=, =251=; ii. 121 - - Salian Franks, _see under_ Franks - - Salimbene, i. 496-7, 499-500; - _Chronica_ of, quoted and cited, i. 498 _seqq._; - editions and translations of the work, i. 496 _n._ - - Salvation, _see under_ Christianity - - Salvian, _De gubernatione Dei_ by, i. 84 - - Saracens: - Crusades against, _see_ Crusades - Frankish victories against, i. 209-10 _n. 1_ - Wars with, necessitating mounted warriors, i. 525 - otherwise mentioned, i. 239, 252, 274, 332 - - Saxons, _see_ Anglo-Saxons _and_ Germans - - Scandinavians, _see_ Norsemen - - Scholasticism: - Arab analogy with, ii. 390 _and_ _n. 2_ - Aristotle's advanced works, stages of appropriation of, ii. 393-5 - Bacon's attack on, ii. 484, =493-4=, =496=, 509 - Classification of topics by: - Schemes of, various, ii. 312 _seqq._ - Twofold principle of, ii. 311 - Conceptualism, ii. 520-1 - Content of, i. 301 - Deference to authority a characteristic of, ii. 297, 300 - Disintegration of--through Duns, ii. 510, 516; - through Occam, ii. 522-3 - Elementary nature of discussions of, ii. 347 - Evil, problem of, _see_ Evil - Exponents of, ii. 283 _and_ _n._ - Final exposition of, by Aquinas, ii. 484 - Greek thought contrasted with, ii. 296 - Humour non-existent in, ii. 459 - Method of, ii. =302=, =306-7=, 315 _n._; - prototype of, i. 95 - Nominalism, ii. 340 - Philosophy of, _see_ Philosophy, scholastic - Phraseology of, untranslatable, ii. 348, 483 - _Praedicables_, ii. 314 _n._ - Present interest of, ii. 285 - Realism, ii. 340; - Pantheism in relation to, ii. 370 - Salvation a main interest of, ii. =296-7=, 300, 311 - Scriptural authority, position of, ii. 289, =291-2= - Secular studies as regarded by, ii. 349, 357 - Stages of development of, ii. 333 _seqq._ - Sympathetic study of, the key to contradictions, ii. 371 - Theology of, _see_ Theology - Universals, problem of: - Aquinas' treatment of, ii. 462 - Duns' treatment of, ii. 515 - Occam's contribution toward, ii. 520-1 - Roscellin's views on, i. 303-4 - - Sciences, classifications of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - (_See also_ Physical science) - - Scotland, Christianizing of, i. 173 - - Scriptures, Christian: - Allegorizing of: - Examples of: - David and Bathsheba episode, ii. 44-6 - Exodus, Book of, ii. 47 - Good Samaritan parable, ii. =53-6=, 84, 90 - Hannah, story of, ii. 47 _n. 1_ - Pharisee and Publican parable, ii. 51-2 - Hugo of St. Victor's view of, ii. 65 _n._ - Writers exemplifying--Philo, ii. 42-43; - the Fathers, ii. =43 seqq.=, 68-9 _and_ _n. 2_; - Rabanus, ii. 46-50; - Bede, ii. 47 _n. 1_; - Honorius of Autun, ii. 51 _seqq._; - Hugo of St. Victor, ii. 67 _seqq._ - Anglo-Saxon version of, i. =142 n. 2=, 183 - Authority of--in patristic doctrine, ii. 295; - acknowledged by Eriugena, i. 231; - by Berengar, i. 303; - in scholasticism, ii. 280, 291-2 - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. =491-2=, 497 - Bonaventura's attitude toward, and writings on, ii. 405 _seqq._ - Canon law based on, ii. 267-9 - Classical studies in relation to, _see subheading_ Secular - Classification of topics based on, ii. 317, 324 - Commentaries on--Alcuin's, i. 220-1; - Raban's, i. 222-3 - Duns' attitude toward, ii. 516 - Francis of Assisi's literal acceptance of, i. 365, 426-=7=; - his realization of spirit of, i. 427 _n. 1_; ii. 183 - Gothic version of, i. 143 _n._ - _Heliand_, i. =203 and nn.=, 308 - Hymns based on, ii. 88 _seqq._ - Interpretation of--by the Fathers, i. =43 seqq.=, 68-9 _and_ _n. 2_; - by Eriugena, i. 231; - by Berengar, i. 303 - Isidore's writings on, i. 104-5 - Love, human, as treated in Old Testament, i. 332-3 - Scenes from, in Gothic art, ii. 82 _seqq._ - Secular knowledge in relation to, i. 63, =66=; ii. =110=, =112=, 120, - 499 - Song of Songs, _see_ Canticles - Study of, by monks, i. 94; - Cassiodorus' _Institutiones_, i. 95-6 - Theology identified with, ii. 406, 408 - Vulgate, the: - Corruption in Paris copy of, ii. 497 - Language of, ii. 171 - - Sculpture, Gothic: - Cathedrals, evolution of, ii. 538-=9= - Symbolism of, i. 457 _n. 2_; ii. =82-6= - - Sedulius Scotus, i. 215 - - Seneca, i. 26, 41 - - _Sentences, Books of_: - Isidore's, i. 106 _and_ _n. 1_ - Paulus' _Sententiae_, ii. 243 - Peter Lombard's, _see under_ Lombard - Prosper's, i. 106 _n. 1_ - - Sequence-hymns, development of, ii. 196, =201-6=; - Adam of St. Victor's, ii. 209-215 - - Serenus, Bp. of Marseilles, i. 102 - - Sermons, allegorizing: - Bernard of Clairvaux, by, i. 337 _n._, =409-13=; ii. =169=, 368-9 - Honorius of Autun, by, ii. 50 _seqq._ - - Seven Liberal Arts (_See also separate headings_ Grammar, Logic, _etc._): - Alanus de Insulis on functions of, ii. 98 _n. 1_ - Carolingian study of, i. 236 - Clerical education in, i. 221-2 - Compend of, by Cassiodorus, i. 96 - _De nuptiis_ as concerned with, i. 71 _n. 3_ - Hugo of St. Victor on function of, ii. 67, 111 - Latin the medium for, ii. 109 - Law smattering included with, ii. 250 - Quadrivium: - Boëthius on, i. 90 _and_ _n. 2_ - Chartres, at, i. 299 - Thierry's encyclopaedia of, ii. 130 - Trivium: - Chartres, at, i. =298-9=; ii. 163 - Courses of, as representing stages of mediaeval development, ii. - 331 _seqq._ - otherwise mentioned, i. 217; ii. 553 - - Severinus, St., i. 192 - - Severus, Sulpicius, i. 126 _n. 2_; - Life of St. Martin by, i. 52, 84, 85 _n. 2_, =86= - - Sidonius, Apollinaris, i. 126 _n. 2_; - cited, i. 117 _n. 1_, 140 - - Siger de Brabant, ii. 401 _and_ _n._ - - _Sippe_, i. 122 - - Smaragdus, Abbot, i. 215 - - Socrates, i. 34-5; ii. 7 - - Songs, _see_ Poetry - - Sophists, Greek, i. 35 - - Sorbon, Robert de, i. 544-5 - - Sorcery, i. 46 - - Spain: - Antique, the, in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 9 - Arabian philosophy in, ii. 390 - Church in, i. 9, 103, =118 and n.= - Latinization of, i. 25-6 _and_ _n. 2_ - Moorish conquest of, i. 9, 118 - Visigoths in, i. 113, 116-=17 and n. 2=, 118 - - _Stabat Mater_, i. 348 - - Statius, ii. 229 _n._ - - Statius Caecilius, i. 25 - - Stephen IX., Pope, i. 263 - - Stephen, St., sequence for festival of, ii. 211-13 - - Stephen of Bourbon quoted, i. 365 _n._ - - Stilicho, i. 112 - - Stoicism: - Emotion as regarded by, i. 330 - Nature of, i. =41=, 57, 59 - Neo-Platonism contrasted with, ii. 296 - Philosophy as classified by, ii. 312 - Roman law as affected by, ii. 232 - otherwise mentioned, i. 40, 70 - - Strabo, Walafrid, _see_ Walafrid - - Suevi, i. 116-17 _and_ _n. 2_, =139= - - _Summae_, method of, ii. 306-7 - (_See also under_ Theology) - - _Summum bonum_, Aquinas' discussion of, ii. 438 _seqq._, 456 - - Switzerland, Irish monasteries founded in, i. 174 - - Sylvester II., Pope (Gerbert of Aurillac), career of, i. 281-4; - disputation with Otric, i. 289-91; - estimate of, i. 281, =285-7=; - love of the classics, i. =287-8=; ii. 110; - Latin style of, ii. 160; - logical studies of, ii. 332, 338, 339, 345; - letters of, quoted, i. 283-7; - estimated, i. 284-5; - editions of works of, i. 280 _n._; - _Libellus de rationali et ratione uti_, i. =292 n.=, 299; - otherwise mentioned, i. 249; ii. 35 - - Symbolism: - Alanus' _Anticlaudianus_ as exemplifying, ii. 94-103 - Angels as symbols, ii. 457 - Art, mediaeval, inspired by, i. 21 - Augustine and Gregory compared as to, i. 56-7 - Carolingian, nature and examples of, ii. 46-50 - Church edifices, of, ii. 78-82 - Dante permeated with, ii. 534, =552-5= - Greek, nature of, ii. 56-7 - Hildegard's visions, in, i. 456 _seqq._ - Marriage relationship, in, i. 413-14 - Mass, of the, ii. 77-8 - Mediaeval thought deeply impressed by, ii. =43=, 50 _n. 1_, =102=, - =365= - Mysticism in relation to, ii. 364 - Neo-Platonic, i. 52 - Ovid's works interpreted by, ii. 230 - Patristic, i. =37=, =43-6=, 52, 53, 58, =80= - Platonic, i. 36 - Raban's addiction to, i. 223 _and_ _n. 2_ - _Signum et res_ classification, ii. 322-3 - Twelfth century--in Honorius of Autun, ii. 51 _seqq._; - in Hugo of St. Victor, ii. 64 _seqq._ - Universal in mental processes, ii. 41, 552 _n._ - Universe explained by, ii. 64, 66 _seqq._ - otherwise mentioned, i. 15, 22 - - Sytrio, Romualdus at, i. 378-9 - - - Tacitus, i. 78; ii. 134 - - Tears, grace of, i. 370-1 _and_ _n._, 462, 463 - - Templars, i. 531-5 - - Tenth century, _see_ Carolingian period - - Tertullian, i. 5, 58, 87, 99, 171, 332, 344, 354 _n._; ii 152; - paradox of, i. 51; ii. 297; - _Adversus Marcionem_, i. 68 - - Teutons (_See also_ Anglo-Saxons, Danes, Germans, Norsemen): - Celts compared with, i. 125 - Characteristics of, i. 138 - Christianizing of: - Manner of, i. =181-3=, =196-7=, 193; - results of, i. 5, =170=-1 - Motives of converts, i. 193 - Customs of, i. 122, 139, 141, 523 - Law of, early, tribal nature of, ii. 245-7 - Rôle of, in mediaeval evolution, i. 125 - Roman Empire permeated by, i. 111 _seqq._ - - Theodora, i. 242 - - Theodore, Abp. of Canterbury, i. 184 - - Theodoric of Freiburg, ii. 501 _n._ - - Theodoric the Ostrogoth, i. 89, 91 _n. 2_, 93, =114-15=, 120-1, 138, 249; - in legend, i. 145-6; - Edict of, ii. 244 _n._ - - Theodosius the Great, Emp., i. 112; ii. 272; - Code of, ii. 240 _and_ _n. 2_, 241 _n. 2_, 242, =249=, =266-7 and n. 1= - - Theodulphus, Bp. of Orleans, i. =9=, 215; - Latin diction of, ii. 160 - - Theology, scholastic: - Abaelard's treatises on, _see under_ Abaelard - Aquinas' _Summa_ of, _see under_ Aquinas - Argumentative nature of, ii. 292-3 - Augustinian character of, ii. 403 - Course of study in, ii. 388 - Importance of, as intellectual interest, ii. 287-8 - Logic in relation to, ii. =340 n.=, 346 - Mysticism of, ii. 363-4 - Natural sciences, etc., as handmaids to, ii. =67=, 111, 289, =486=, - =492=, =496=, 500, 530; - denial of the theory--by Duns, ii. 510; - by Occam, ii. 519-520 - (_See also_ Physical science--Patristic attitude toward) - Paris the centre for, ii. 283, =379= - Philosophy in relation to, _see under_ Philosophy - Practical, not speculative, regarded as, ii. 512, =515=, 519 - Scientific nature of, as regarded by Albertus, ii. 291, 430 - Scripture identified with, ii. 406, 408 - _Summae_ of--by Alexander of Hales, ii. 399; - by Bonaventura, ii. 408; - by Albertus Magnus, ii. 430-1; - by Aquinas, _see under_ Aquinas - Thirteenth-century study of, ii. 118-=120= - - Theophrastus, i. 38 - - Theresa, St., i. 443 _n. 1_ - - Theurgic practice, i. 46-8 - - Thierry, Chancellor of Chartres, ii. 119, =370-1=; - _Eptateuchon_ of, ii. 130 _and_ _n._ - - Thirteenth century: - Intellectual interests of, ultimate, ii. 287 - Latin prose styles of, ii. 179 - Papal position in, ii. 509 - Personalities of writers emergent in, ii. 436 - Theology and dialectic the chief studies of, ii. 118-=20= - Three phenomena marking, ii. 378 - - Thomas à Kempis, _De imitatione Christi_ by, ii. 185 - - Thomas Aquinas, _see_ Aquinas - - Thomas of Brittany, _Tristan_ fragment by, i. 582 - - Thomas of Cantimpré, ii. 428-9 - - Thomas of Celano, Life of St. Francis by, quoted, i. 435, 436-8; - style of the work, ii. 182-3 - - Thucydides, _History of the Peloponnesian War_ by, i. 77-8 - - Thuringia: - Boniface's work in, i. 197-8 - Merovingian rule in, i. 121 - - Thuringians, language of, i. 145 _n. 2_ - - Torriti, i. 347 - - Trance, _see_ Ecstasy - - Trèves, i. =30=, 31, 192 - - _Tristan_: - Chrétien's version of, i. 567 - Gottfried von Strassburg's version of, i. 577-82 - - Trivium, _see under_ Seven Liberal Arts - - Troubadours (trouvères), i. 572-3 _and_ _nn._ - - Troy, tales of, in mediaeval literature, ii. 200, =224-5 and n. 2=, - =227-9= - - True and the good compared, ii. 441, 512 - - Truth, Guigo's _Meditationes_ as concerning, i. 385-6 - - Twelfth century: - Classical studies at zenith in, ii. 117-118 - Growth in, various, i. 305-6 - Intellectual interests of, ultimate, ii. 287 - Literary zenith in, ii. 168, 205-6 - Mobility increased during, ii. 379 - - - Ulfilas, i. 192; ii. 221 - - Ulpian--on _jus naturale_ and _jus gentium_, ii. 234 _and_ _n._; - on _justitia_, _jus_ and _jurisprudentia_, ii. 237 - - Ulster Cycle, Sagas of, i. 128 _and_ _n. 2_, 129 _seqq._ - - Universals, _see under_ Scholasticism - - Universities, mediaeval (_For particular universities see their names_): - Increase in (14th cent.), ii. 523 - Rise of, ii. 379, 381 _seqq._ - Studies at, ii. 388 _and_ _n._ - - Urban II., Pope, ii. 175 - - Urban IV., Pope, ii. 391-2, 434 - - Utrecht, bishopric of, i. 197 - - - Vallombrosa, i. 377 - - Vandals, i. 112, =113=, 120 - - Varro, Terentius, i. 39, 71, 78 - - Vercingetorix, i. 28 - - Vernacular poetry, _see under_ Poetry - - Verse, _see_ Poetry - - Vikings, _see_ Danes _and_ Norsemen - - Vilgard, i. 259-60 - - Vincent of Beauvais, _Speculum majus_ of, ii. 82 _and_ _n. 2_, 315-22 - - Virgil, Bernard Silvestris' _Commentum_ on, ii. 116-17 _and_ _n. 2_; - Dante in relation to, ii. 535, 536, 539, 543 - - Virgin Mary: - Dante's _Paradiso_ as concerning, ii. 551 - Hymns to, by Hugo of St. Victor, ii. 86-7, 92 - Interventions of, against the devil, i. 487, =490-2= - Mediaeval attitude toward, i. 53, 54 _and_ =n. 2=; ii. =431=, =551=, - 558 - - Virtues: - Aquinas' classification of, ii. 326-8 - Odilo's _Cardinales disciplinae_, i. 295 - - Virtues and vices, poetic treatment of--by Alanus, ii. 102 _n._; - by De Lorris and De Meun, ii. 103 - - Visigoths: - Arianism of, i. 120 - Dacian settlement of, i. 112 - Gaul, Southern, kingdom in, i. 7, 112, =116=; - Clovis' conquest of, i. 121 - Roman law code promulgated by, _see_ Roman law--_Breviarium_ - Spain, in, i. 9, 113, 116-=17 and n. 2=, 118 - - Visions: - Examples of, i. 444-6, 451, 452-9 - Monastic atmosphere in, i. 184 _and_ _n. 2_ - Nature of, i. 443, 449 and _n. 3_, =450=, 451 _and_ _n._ - - _Vita contemplativa_: - Aquinas' views on, ii. 443, =481-2= - Hildebert on, ii. 144-5 - - _Vitae sanctorum_, _see_ Saints--Lives of - - - Walafrid Strabo, i. 100, =215=; ii. =332=; - _Glossa ordinaria_ of, i. 16, =221 n. 2=; ii. =46=; - _De cultura hortorum_, ii. 188 _n. 2_ - - Waldenses, i. =365 n.=; ii. 34 - - Walter of Lille (of Chatillon), _Alexandreis_ of, ii. 192 _and_ _n. 3_, - 230 _n. 1_ - - Walther von der Vogelweide, political views of, ii. 33; - attitude of, toward Papacy, ii. 34-6; - piety and crusading zeal of, ii. 36; - melancholy, ii. 36-7; - _Minnelieder_ of, ii. 29-31; - _Sprüche_, ii. 29, =32=, 36; - _Tagelied_, ii. 30; - _Unter der Linde_, ii. 30; - otherwise mentioned, i. 475, =482=, 589; ii. 223 - - _Wergeld_, i. =122=, 139; ii. =246= - - Will, primacy of, over intellect, ii. 512, 515 - - William, Abbot of Hirschau, i. 315 - - William II. (Rufus), King of England, i. 273, 275; ii. =138-9= - - William of Apulia, ii. 189 _and_ _n. 3_ - - William of Champeaux--worsted by Abaelard, ii. 342-3; - founds St. Victor, ii. 61, 143; - Hildebert's letter to, quoted, ii. 143 - - William of Conches, ii. 132; - studies and works of, ii. 372-3; - _Summa moralium philosophorum_, ii. 134-5, 373 _and_ _n. 2_ - - William of Malmsbury cited, i. 525 - - William of Moerbeke, ii. 391 - - William of Occam, _see_ Occam - - William of St. Thierry, ii. 300, 344 - - Willibrord, St., i. 197 - - Winifried-Boniface, St., i. 6, =197-200=, 308; ii. 273 - - Wisdom, Aquinas on, ii. 481 - - Witelo, _Perspectiva_ by, ii. 501 _n._ - - Witiza of Aquitaine, i. 358-9 - - Wolfram von Eschenbach, ii. 223; - _Parzival_ by, i. 12 _n._, 149 _n. 1_, 152, 567, 571 _n. 2_, - =589-613=; ii. =36=; - estimate of the work, i. 588; ii. 29 - - Women: - Emotion regarding, i. 349-50 - Emotional Christ-love experienced by, i. 442, =459 seqq.= - Fabliaux' tone toward, i. 521 _n. 2_ - German prae-mediaeval attitude toward, i. 139, 150; - mediaeval, ii. 31 - Monastic life, in: - Abuses among, i. 491-2; - Rigaud's _Register_ as concerning, i. 479-480 - Consecration of, i. 337 _and_ _n._ - Gandersheim nuns, i. 311 - Visions of, i. 442 _seqq._, 463 _seqq._ - Monkish vilification of, i. =354 n.=, 521 _n. 2_, 532, =533=; ii. 58 - Romantic literature as concerned with, i. 564 - Romantic poems for audiences of, i. 565 - Walther von der Vogelweide on, ii. 31 - - Worms, Concordat of (1122), i. 245 _n. 4_ - - - Xenophon's _Cyropaedia_, i. 78 - - - Year-books (_Annales_), i. 234 _and_ =n. 1= - - Yves, Bp. of Chartres, i. 262 _n._; ii. =139= - - - Zacharias, Pope, i. 199 - - Zoology: - Albertus Magnus' works on, ii. 429 - Aristotle's work in, i. 38 - _Physiologus_, i. =76-7 and n.=, 300; ii. 83 - - -THE END - - -_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] See _post_, Chapter XXXVI., I. - -[2] Lev. xxi. 20; Deut. xxiii. 1. - -[3] Lucan, _Pharsalia_, viii. 94. - -[4] Heloïse here in mediaeval fashion cites a number of examples from -Scripture showing the ills and troubles brought by women to men. - -[5] Again she quotes to prove this, from Job and St. Gregory and Ambrose. - -[6] Heloïse's last _problema_ did not relate to Scripture, and may have -been suggested by her own life. "We ask whether one can sin in doing what -is permitted or commanded by the Lord?" Abaelard answers with a discussion -of what is permissible between man and wife. - -[7] This letter of Heloïse is not extant. - -[8] The _Tristan_ of Gottfried von Strassburg and the _Parzival_ of -Wolfram von Eschenbach have been given. One may also refer to works of -older contemporaries, _e.g._ to the _Aeneid_ of Heinrich von Veldeke, -translated (1184) from a French rendering of Virgil; and the two courtly -narrative poems, the _Erec_ and _Ivain_ (Knight of the Lion) taken from -Chrétien of Troies by Hartmann von Aue, who flourished as the twelfth -century was passing into the thirteenth. - -[9] On Walther von der Vogelweide, see Wilmann, _Leben und Dichtung -Walthers, etc._ (Bonn, 1882); Schönbach, _Walther von der Vogelweide_ (2nd -ed., Berlin, 1895). The citations from his poems in this chapter follow -the Pfeiffer-Bartsch edition. - -[10] No. 3 in the Pfeiffer-Bartsch edition. - -[11] 184. - -[12] 33. - -[13] 22. - -[14] 14, 16, 69. - -[15] 18. - -[16] 39. - -[17] See _Lieder_, 46, 51, 56, 59, 61, 62, 71, 72, 75, 76, 77. - -[18] A lucid account of this struggle is given in Luchaire, _Innocent -III._, vol. iii. ("La Papauté et l'Empire"), Paris, 1906. - -[19] 81. - -[20] From "Freidank in Auswahl," in Hildebrand's _Didaktik aus der Zeit -der Kreuzzüge_, p. 336 (Deutsche Nat. Lit.). - -[21] 85, cf. 164. - -[22] 110. - -[23] 113, cf. 111, 112. - -[24] 115, 116. - -[25] 133. My statement of the opposition to the papacy might be much more -analytical, and contain further apt distinctions. But this would remove it -too far from the anti-papal feeling of the common man; and the period, -moreover, is not yet that of Occam and Marsilius of Padua--as to whom see -Gierke, _Political Theories of the Middle Age_, trans. by Maitland -(Cambridge, 1900). - -[26] 88, 137. - -[27] 158. Walter shared the crusading spirit. The inference that he was -himself a Crusader is unsafe; but he wrote stirring crusading poems, one -opening with a line that in sudden power may be compared with Milton's - - "Avenge, O Lord, Thy slaughtered saints." - - "Rich, hêrre, dich und dine muoter, megede kint." - 167. See also 78, 79. - -[28] 87. - -[29] _Parzival_, i. 824. - -[30] 186. - -[31] 188. - -[32] While an allegory is a statement having another consciously intended -meaning, metaphor is the carrying over or deflection of a meaning from its -primary application. According to good usage, which has kept these terms -distinct, allegory implies a definite and usually a sustained intention, -and suggests the spiritual; while metaphor suggests figures of speech and -linguistic changes often unconscious. Language develops through the -metaphorical (not allegorical) extension or modification of the meanings -of words. The original meaning sometimes is obscured (_e.g._ in _profane_ -or _depend_), and sometimes continues to exist with the new one. In a vast -number of languages, such words as _straight_, _oblique_, _crooked_, seem -always to have had both a direct and a metaphorical meaning. Moral and -intellectual conceptions necessarily are expressed in phrases primarily -applicable to physical phenomena. - -[33] Cf. Taylor, _Classical Heritage_, p. 97 _sqq._ - -[34] _Ante_, Chapters IV., V. - -[35] _Contra Faustum_, xxii. 1-5. - -[36] _Contra Faustum_, xxii. 66-68. - -[37] Augustine's method in this twenty-second Book is first to consider -the actual sinfulness or justification of these deeds, and afterwards to -take up in succession their typological significance. So, for example, he -discusses the blamefulness of Judah's conduct with Tamar in par. 61-64 and -its typology in 83-86. - -[38] _Contra Faustum_, xxii. 87. St. Ambrose, in his _Apologia Prophetae -David_, cap. iii. (Migne 14, col. 857), written some years before -Augustine's treatise against Faustus, finds Bathsheba to signify the -"congregatio nationum quae non erat Christo legitimo quodam fidei copulata -connubio." - -[39] _Quaestiones in Vet. Testam. in Regum II._ (Migne 83, col. 411). -Isidore died A.D. 636 (_ante_, Chapter V.) - -[40] _Comment. in Libros IV. Regum_, in lib. ii. cap. xi.; Migne, _Pat. -Lat._ 109, col. 98 (written in 834). On Rabanus and Walafrid see _ante_, -Chapter X. - -[41] _Glossa ordinaria, Lib. Regum_, ii. cap. xi. (Migne 113, col. 571, -572). - -[42] _Comment. in Matthaeum_ (Migne 107, col. 734). - -[43] Migne 114, col. 67. - -[44] It was the way of Bede in his commentaries to speak briefly of the -literal or historic meaning of the text, and then give the usual -symbolical interpretations, paying special attention to the significance -of the Old Testament narratives as types of the career of Christ (see -_e.g._ the beginning of the Commentary on Exodus, Migne 92, col. 285 -_sqq._; and Prologue to the allegorical Commentary on Samuel, Migne 92, -col. 501, 502). For example, in the opening of the First Book of Samuel, -Elkanah is a type of Christ, and his two wives Peninnah and Hannah -represent the Synagogue and the Church. When Samuel is born to Hannah he -also is a type of Christ; and Bede says it need not astonish one that -Hannah's spouse and Hannah's son should both be types of Christ, since the -Mediator between God and man is at once the spouse and son of Holy Church: -He is her spouse as He aids her with His confidence and hope and love, and -her son when by grace He enters the hearts of those who believe and hope -and love. In _Samuelam_, cap. iii. (Migne 91, col. 508). Bede's monastic -mind balked at the literal statement that Elkanah had two wives (see the -Prologue, Migne 91, col. 499). - -[45] _Com. in Exodum_, Praefatio (Migne 108, col. 9). - -[46] Migne 112, col. 849-1088. A number of these dictionaries were -compiled, the earliest being the _De formulis spiritalis intellegentiae_ -of Eucherius, Bishop of Lyons, who died in 450, ed. by Pauly 1884. In the -later Middle Ages Alanus de Insulis (_post_, Chapter XXIX.) compiled one. - -[47] These distinctions, not commonly observed, are frequently reiterated. -Says Hugo of St. Victor (see _post_, Chapter XXVIII.) in the Prologue to -his _De sacramentis_: "Divine Scripture, with threefold meaning, considers -its matter historically, allegorically, and tropologically. History is the -narrative of facts, and follows the primary meaning of words; we have -allegory when the fact which is told signifies some other fact in the -past, present, or future; and tropology when the narrated fact signifies -that something should be done." Cf. Hugo's _Didascalicon_, v. cap. 2, -where Hugo illustrates his meaning, and points out that this threefold -significance is not to be found in every passage of Scripture. In _ibid._ -v. cap. 4, he gives seven curious rules of interpretation (Migne 176, col. -789-793). In his _De Scripturis, etc., praenotatiunculae_, cap. 3 (Migne -175, col. 11 _sqq._), Hugo speaks of the anagogical significance in the -place of the tropological. - -[48] Raban's Latin is "Ligabit earn ancillis suis"--the verse in Job xl. -24 reads "Ligabis earn ancillis tuis?" In the English version the verse is -Job xli. 5, "Wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?" - -[49] "Per fidem me cognoverunt"; I surmise a _non_ is omitted. - -[50] The Scriptural citations are omitted. Rabanus wrote an allegorical -_De laudibus sanctae crucis_ (Migne 107, col. 133-294), composed in metre -with prose explanations, which explain very little. The metrical portion -is a puzzle consisting of twenty-eight "figures," or lineal delineations -interwoven in hexameter verses; the words and letters contained within -each figure "make sense" when read by themselves, and form verses in -metres other than hexameters. The whole is as incomprehensible in meaning -as it is indescribable in form. Angels, cherubim and seraphim, tetragons, -the virtues, months, winds, elements, signs of the Zodiac, and other -twelvefold mysteries, the days of the year, the number seven, the five -books of Moses, the four evangelists, the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, -the eight beatitudes, the mystery of the number forty, the sacrament shown -by the number fifty,--all these and much besides contribute to the glory -of the Cross, and are delineated and arranged in cruciform manner, so as -to be included within the scope of the cross's symbolical significance. - -[51] Since allegory and the spirit of symbolism pervaded all mediaeval -thought, the present and two following chapters aim only at setting forth -the elements (with pertinent examples) of this quite limitless subject. - -[52] See prefatory epistle to _Speculum ecclesiae_, Migne 172, col. 813. -Compare the prefatory epistle to the _Gemma animae_, _ibid._ col. 541, and -the Preface to the _Elucidarium_, _ibid._ col. 1109. Probably Honorius -died about 1130. - -[53] We have these sermons only in Latin. Presumably a preacher using -them, gave them in that language or rendered them in the vernacular as he -thought fit. - -[54] "Ommia legalia Christus nobis convertit in sacramenta spiritualia" is -Honorius's apt phrase (which may be borrowed!), Migne 172, col. 842. His -special reference is to circumcision. - -[55] Ps. xxxi. Vulgate; Ps. xxxii. 2, Authorized Version. - -[56] _Speculum ecclesiae_, "Dominica XI." (Migne 172, col. 1053 _sqq._). - -[57] Yet, curiously enough, near the time when I was making the following -translation, I heard an elderly country clergyman preach substantially -this sermon of Honorius--wherever he may have culled it, perhaps from some -useful "Homiletical" Commentary. - -[58] _Speculum ecclesiae_, "Dominica XIII." (Migne 172, col. 1059-1061). - -[59] _Speculum ecclesiae_, "Dominica in Septuagesima" (Migne 172, col. -855-857). Honorius may have forgotten the weariness of his supposed -audience; for his sermon goes on with further admonition as to how the -victory is to be won. - -The allegorical interpretation of Scripture is exemplified in the whole -limitless mass of mediaeval sermons. Illustrations from St. Bernard's -sermons on Canticles are given in Chapter XVII., also _post_, in Chapter -XXXVI., II. - -[60] For the Eucharist in the Carolingian period see _ante_, Chapter X. -Berengar of Tours is spoken of in Chapter XII., IV. - -[61] Many members in one body, one body in Christ (Rom. xii. 4, 5). - -[62] Cf. _post_, Chapter XXXIII., V. - -[63] The works of Hugo of Saint-Victor are contained in Migne's -_Patrologia Latina_, 175-177 (Paris, 1854; the reprint of 1882 is full of -misprints). The Prolegomena (in French) of Mgr. Hugonin are elaborate and -valuable. Mignon, _Les Origines de la scholastique et Hugues de -Saint-Victor_ (2 vols., Paris, 1895), follows Hugonin's writing and adds -little of value. An exposition of Hugo's philosophy is to be found in -Stöckl, _Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters_, Band I. pp. 305-355 -(Mainz, 1864). On the authenticity of the writings ascribed to him see -Hauréau, _Les Oeuvres de Hugues de Saint-Victor_ (2nd ed., Paris, 1886). -For Hugo's position in the history of scholasticism and mysticism see -_post_, Chapter XXXVI., II. - -[64] _Post_, Chapter XXXI., I. - -[65] Hildebert's letter is given _post_, Chapter XXX., III. - -[66] On the neighbouring schools of Notre-Dame and St. Genevieve see -_post_, Chapter XXXVII. - -[67] At the opening of his _Expositio in regulam beati Augustini_, Migne -176, col. 881, Hugo explains that the precepts under which a monastic -community lives are called the _regula_, and what we call a _regula_ is -called a _canon_ by the Greeks; and those are called _canonici_ or -_regulares_, who "juxta regularia praecepta sanctorum Patrum canonice -atque apostolice vivunt." Thus the "regular canons" of St. Augustine were -monks who lived according to the rule ascribed to that saint. In the case -of the Victorines the rule was drawn up chiefly by Abbot Gilduin. See -Prolegomena to the works of _Hugo_, Migne 175, col. xxiv. _sqq._ - -[68] See the Prolegomena to the works of _Hugo de Saint-Victor_, by -Hugonin, Migne 175, col. xl. _sqq._ - -[69] _Didascalicon_, vi. 3 (Migne 176, col. 799). Other contents of this -work are given _post_, Chapter XXXVI., I. - -[70] His death is touchingly described in a letter of Osbert, the canon in -charge of the infirmary. See Migne 175, col. xlvii and clxi. - -[71] Hugo, _De arrha animae_, Migne 176, col. 954. Yet Hugo sometimes was -stung with an irrelevant pang for the German fatherland, which he had -left: "I have been an exile since my boyhood, and I know how the mind -grieves to forsake some poor hut's narrow hearth, and how easily it may -then despise the marble hall and fretted roof" (_Didascalicon_, iii. 20; -Migne 176, col. 778). Compare the single letter of Hugo that has a -personal note, _Ep._ i. (Migne 176, col. 1011). - -[72] The _De sacramentis Christianae fidei_ is printed in Migne 176, col. -174-618. It is thus a lengthy work. - -[73] Hugo evidently refers to his _De Scripturis et scriptoribus sacris -praenotatiunculae_, and his various _Adnotationes elucidatoriae_, which -will be found printed in vol. 175 of Migne's _Patrologia Latina_. In chap. -v. of the work first mentioned (Migne 175, col. 13) he speaks sensibly of -the folly of those who profess not to care for the literal historical -meaning of the sacred text, but, in ignorance, spring at once to very -inept allegorical interpretations. - -[74] _De sacramentis_, Prologus (Migne 176, col. 183-185). A more -elementary statement may be found in _De Scripturis, etc._, cap. xiii. -(Migne 175, col. 20). - -[75] God is perfect and utterly good. His beatitude cannot be increased or -diminished, but it can be imparted. Therefore the primal cause for -creating rational creatures was God's wish that there should be partakers -of His beatitude. This reasoning may be Christian; but it is also close to -the doctrine of Plato's _Timaeus_, which Hugo had read. - -[76] Hugo also takes a wider view of the "place" of mankind's restoration, -and finds that it includes (1) heaven, where the good are confirmed and -made perfect; (2) hell, where the bad receive their deserts; (3) the fire -of purgatory, where there is correction and perfecting; (4) paradise the -place of good beginnings; and (5) the world, the place of pilgrimage for -those who need restoring. - -[77] "Sacramentum est corporale vel materiale elementum foris sensibiliter -propositum ex similitudine repraesentans, et ex institutione significans, -et ex sanctificatione continens aliquam invisibilem et spiritalem gratiam" -(pars ix. 2; Migne 176, col. 317). In spite of Hugo the old definition -held its ground, being adopted by Peter Lombard and others after him. - -[78] Here we see clearly that the works of the Creation have the -sacramental quality of similitude and, in a way, the quality of -institution, since their similitude to spiritual things was intended by -the Creator for the instruction of man. They lack, however, the third -quality of sanctification, which enables the material _signum_ to convey -its spiritual _res_. - -[79] _e.g._ the material of the sacrament, which may consist in things, as -in bread and wine, or in actions (as in making the sign of the cross), or -in words, as in the invocation of the Trinity. He also shows how faith -itself may be regarded as a sacrament, inasmuch as it is that whereby we -now see in a glass darkly and behold but an image. But we shall hereafter -see clearly through contemplation. Faith then is the image, _i.e._ the -sacrament, of the future contemplation which is the sacrament's real -verity, the _res_. - -[80] _De sacr._ lib. i. pars xi. cap. 1. The sacraments of the natural law -included tithes, oblations, and sacrifices. Hugo also considers the good -works which the natural law prescribed. This period ceases with the -written law given implicitly through Abraham and explicitly through Moses. -See _De sacr._ lib. i. pars xii. cap. i. Hugo appears to me to vary his -point of view regarding the natural law and its time, for sometimes he -regards it as the law prevailing till the time of Abraham or Moses, and -again as the law under which pagan peoples lived, who did not know the -Mosaic law. - -[81] _De sacr._ lib. i. pars xi. cap. 6 (Migne 176, col. 346). - -[82] Whoever should wish for further illustration of Hugo's allegorical -methods may examine his treatises entitled _De arca Noë morali_ and _De -arca Noë mystica_ (Migne 176, col. 618-702), where every detail of the -Ark, which signifies the Church, is allegorically applied to the Christian -scheme of life and salvation. With these treatises, Hugo's _De vanitate -mundi_ (Migne 176, col. 703-740) is connected. They will be referred to -when considering Hugo's position in mediaeval philosophy, _post_, Chapter -XXXVI., II. - -[83] See Duchesne, _Origines du culte chrétien_. - -[84] See the epitaph from his tomb in S. Maria sopra Minerva in Rome, -given by Savigny, _Geschichte des Römischen Rechts_, v. 571 _sqq._, who -also gives a sketch of his life. With the work of Durandus, the _Gemma -animae_ of Honorius of Autun (Books I. II. III.; Migne 172, col. 541 -_sqq._) should be compared, as marking a somewhat earlier stage in the -interpretation of the Liturgy. It also gives the symbolism of the church -and its parts, its ministers, and services. - -[85] Every article worn or borne by the bishop (or celebrating priest) has -symbolic significance. - -[86] All this (which is taken from Book IV. of the _Rationale_) is but the -first part of the Mass. The maze of symbolism increases in vastness and -intricacy as the office proceeds. - -[87] Neh. iv. - -[88] Matt. xix. 17. - -[89] Many parts of the church have more than one significance. The windows -were said before to represent hospitality and pity. - -[90] _Post_, Chapter XXXV., I. - -[91] The application of Vincent's work to the sculpture and painting of a -Gothic cathedral is due to Didron, _Iconographie chrétienne, histoire de -Dieu_, Introduction (1843). Other writers have followed him, like Émile -Male in his _L'Art religieux du XIII{e} siècle en France_ (2nd ed., Paris, -1902), to which the present writer is much indebted. It goes without -saying, that the sources from which Vincent drew (_e.g._ the works of -Albertus Magnus) likewise form a commentary upon the subjects of Gothic -glass and sculpture, and may even have suggested the manner of their -presentation. - -[92] The opening verses of John's Gospel account for this. Christ, or God -in the person of Christ, is shown in Old Testament scenes as early as the -fourth century upon sarcophagi in the Lateran at Rome. - -[93] These subjects illustrated the series of events celebrated in the -calendar of church services. - -[94] _Post_, pp. 86 _sqq._ - -[95] _Ante_, Chapter XXVII. - -[96] So the composition and the arrangement of topics in the cathedral -sculpture and glass have scarcely the excellence of natural grouping. The -arrangement is intended to illustrate the series of successive acts making -up God's own artist-composition, itself symbolical of His purpose in the -creation and redemption of man. - -[97] Adam's hymns are edited with notes and an introductory essay by L. -Gautier, _Oeuvres poétiques d'Adam de S.-Victor_ (3rd ed., Paris, 1894). A -number of his hymns will be found in Migne 196, col. 1422 _sqq._; and also -in Clement's _Carmina e poetis christianis excerpta_. On Adam's verse see -_post_, Chapter XXXII., III. - -[98] Dante draws much from Richard of St. Victor. - -[99] See _post_, Chapter XXXII., III. - -[100] Gautier, _o.c._ p. 46 (Migne 196, col. 1437). - -[101] The Hebrews in bondage to the Egyptians are the symbol of all men in -the bonds of sin. - -[102] As Christ expires the cherubim at the gate of Eden lower the flaming -sword, so that the men bathed with His blood may pass in. - -[103] Isaac was always a type of Christ; his name was interpreted laughter -(_risus_) from Gen. xxi. 6: "And Sarah said, God hath made me to laugh, so -that all that hear will laugh with me." - -[104] Joseph another type of Christ. - -[105] This serpent, _i.e._ Christ the rod of Aaron, safe from the devil's -spite, consumes the false idols. - -[106] The Brazen Serpent, a type of Christ. Cf. John iii. 14. - -[107] Cf. Job xli. 1. The hook (_hamus_) is Christ's divinity, whereby He -pierces the devil's jaw. - -[108] Cf. Isa. xi. 8. The guiltless child is Christ, and the cockatrice is -the devil. - -[109] The children who mocked Elisha represent the Jews mocking Christ as -He ascended Calvary; the bear is Vespasian and Titus who destroy -Jerusalem. - -[110] These again are types of Christ: David feigning madness among the -Philistines, 1 Sam. xxi. 12-15; the goat cast forth for the people's sins, -Lev. xvi. 21, 22; and the sparrow in the rite of cleansing from leprosy, -Lev. xiv. 2-7. - -[111] Samson a type of Christ, will not wed a woman of his tribe (Judges -xiv. 1-3) as Christ chooses the Gentiles; Samson bursts open Gaza's gates -as Christ the gates of death and hell. - -[112] The allusion here is to the statement of mediaeval Bestiaries that -the lion cub, when born, lies lifeless for three days, till awakened by -his father's roar. The supernal mother is the Church triumphant. - -[113] The body of Christ, _i.e._ the Church. - -[114] A topic everywhere represented in church windows and cathedral -sculpture. - -[115] Printed at the end of his _Paedagogus_; see Taylor, _Classical -Heritage of the Middle Ages_, pp. 253-255, where it is translated. - -[116] Although the dogmas of Christianity were formulated by reason, they -were cradled in love and hate. Nowadays, in a time when dogmas are apt to -be thought useless clogs to the spirit, it is well for the -historically-minded to remember the power of emotional devotion which they -have inspired in other times. - -[117] Gautier, _Oeuvres d'Adam_ (1st ed., vol. i. p. 11); Gautier (3rd -ed., p. 269) doubts whether this hymn is Adam's. But for the purpose of -illustrating the symbolism of the twelfth-century hymn, the question of -authorship is not important. - -[118] _Ante_, Chapter XXVII. - -[119] In these closing lines the "salubre sacramentum" is in apposition to -"Ille de Samaria"--_i.e._ the "sacramentum" is the Saviour, who is also -typified by the Good Samaritan. In another hymn for Christmas, Adam speaks -of the concurrence in one _persona_ of Word, flesh, and spirit, and then -uses the phrase "Tantae rei sacramentum" (Gautier, _o.c._ p. 5). Here the -_sacramentum_ designates the visible human person of Christ, which was the -life-giving _signum_ or symbol of so great a marvel (_tantae rei_) as the -Incarnation. Adam has Hugo's teaching in mind, and the full significance -of his phrase will appear by taking it in connection with Hugo's -definition of the Sacrament, _ante_, Chapter XXVIII. - -[120] Gautier, _o.c._ p. 10. - -[121] The reference is to Aaron's rod in Numbers xvii. - -[122] The reference is to Gideon's fleece, Judges vi. 37, which is a type -of the Virgin Mary. - -[123] Gautier, _o.c._ 1st ed., i. 155 (Migne 196, col. 1464). In his third -edition, Gautier is doubtful of Adam's authorship of this hymn because of -its irregular rhyme. - -[124] Cf. Gautier's notes to this hymn, Gautier, _o.c._ 1st ed., i. -159-167. - -[125] Gautier, _o.c._ i. 168. - -[126] Gautier, _o.c._ ii. 127. - -[127] Gautier, 3rd ed., p. 186. This is in Migne 196, col. 1502. - -[128] A charlatan in Salimbene's Chronicle, _ante_, Chapter XXI., uses a -like phrase. - -[129] For the data as to Alanus see the Prolegomena to Migne, _Pat. Lat._ -210, which volume contains his works. See also Hauréau, _Mém. de l'acad. -des inscriptions et des belles lettres_, tome 32 (1886), p. 1, etc.; also -_Hist. lit. de France_, tome 16, p. 396, etc. On Alanus and his place in -scholastic philosophy, see _post_, Chapter XXXVI., III. - -[130] Migne 210, col. 686-1012. - -[131] Migne 210, col. 431-481. See _post_, Chapter XXXII., I. - -[132] The significance of the title is not quite clear. The poem is -written in hexametre, and is not far from 4700 lines in length. It is -printed in Migne 210, col. 486-576; also edited by Thos. Wright, Master of -the Rolls Series, vol. 59, ii. (1872). - -[133] The poem is highly imaginative in the delineation of its allegorical -figures. - -[134] These curious lines are as follows: - - "O nova picturae miracula, transit ad esse - Quod nihil esse potest! picturaque simia veri, - Arte nova ludens, in res umbracula rerum - Vertit, et in verum mendacia singula mutat." - _Anticlaudianus_, i. cap. iv. - (Migne 196, col. 491.) - -[135] The allusion here is to the fate of Hippolytus, whose -chariot-horses, maddened by the wiles of Venus, dashed the chariot to -pieces and caused their lord's death. - -[136] i. cap. vi. Her garb and attributes are elaborately told. In the -latter part of the poem she is usually called Phronesis. - -[137] A favourite commonplace; Heloïse uses it. - -[138] The functions of these virgins, the Seven Liberal Arts, are -poetically told. The _Anticlaudianus_ is no text-book. But the poet -apparently is following the _De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii_ of -Martianus Capella, _ante_, Chapter IV. - -[139] Compare the succession of Heavens in Dante's _Paradiso_. - -[140] One may recall Raphael's painting of Theology on the ceiling of the -Stanza del Segnatura in the Vatican. It is impossible not to compare the -rôles of Alan's Reason and Theology with those of Virgil and Beatrice in -the _Commedia_. - -[141] Here we are back in the _Celestial Hierarchy_ of Dionysius the -Areopagite. - -[142] As in Dante's _Paradiso_. - -[143] Most of these epithets of the Virgin come from allegorical -interpretations of the text of the Vulgate. - -[144] Compare the final vision of Dante in _Paradiso_, xxxiii. - -[145] The reader will notice the Platonism and Neo-Platonism of all this. - -[146] Notice that the Arts are here equipping and perfecting the man for -his fight against sin;--which corresponds with the common mediaeval view -of the function of education. - -[147] The poem gives a full description of Fortune and her house, and -unstable splendid gifts. - -[148] But the different names of Alanus's Virtues and Vices, and their -novel antagonisms, indicate an original view of morality with him. On the -_Psychomachia_ see Taylor, _Classical Heritage_, pp. 278 _sqq._ and 379. -Allegorical combats and _débats_ (both in Latin and in the vernacular -tongues) are frequent in mediaeval literature. Cf. _e.g._ _post_, Chapter -XXX. Again, in certain _parabolae_ ascribed to St. Bernard (Migne 183, -col. 757 _sqq._) the various virtues, Prudentia, Fortitude, Discretio, -Temperantia, Spes, Timor, Sapientia, are so naturally made to act and -speak, that one feels they had become personalities proper for poetry and -art. Compare Hildegard's characterizations of the Vices, _ante_, Chapter -XIX. - -[149] The English reader will derive much pleasure from F. S. Ellis's -admirable verse translation: _The Romance of the Rose_ (Dent and Co., -London, 1900). Each of the three little volumes of this translation has a -convenient synopsis of the contents. Those who would know what is known of -the tale and its authors should read Langlois's chapter on it, in -_Histoire de la langue et de la littérature française_, edited by Petit de -Julleville. It may be said here, for those whose memories need refreshing, -that William de Lorris wrote the first part, some forty-two hundred lines, -about the year 1237, and died leaving it unfinished; John de Meun took up -the poem some thirty years afterwards, and added his sequel of more than -eighteen thousand lines. - -[150] The names are Englished after Ellis's translation. - -[151] See _ante_, Chapter XXIII.; De Meun took much from the _De planctu -naturae_ of Alanus. - -[152] _Post_, Chapter XXXIII. - -[153] _Ante_, Vol. I. p. 213. - -[154] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 172, col. 1056. - -[155] _Ante_, Chapter XII., I. - -[156] _Ante_, Chapter XIII., I. - -[157] _Ante_, Chapter XXVIII. - -[158] _Didascalicon_, iii. 4 (Migne 176, col. 768-769). - -[159] _De vanitate mundi_, i. (Migne 176, col. 709, 710). - -[160] _Ep._ 169 (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 100, col. 441). - -[161] _Opusc._ xiii.; _De perfectione monachi_, cap. xi. (Migne 144, col. -306). See _ante_, Chapter XVI. - -[162] _Speculum ecclesiae_ (Migne 172, col. 1085). - -[163] Sonnet 56. - -[164] _Ep._ i. (Migne 119, col. 433). - -[165] John approved of reading the _auctores_, for educational purposes, -and not confining the pupil to the _artes_. See _Metalogicus_, i. 23, 24 -(Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 199, col. 453). On John, cf. _post_, Chapter XXXI. and -XXXVI., III. - -[166] _Polycraticus_, Prologus (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 199, col. 385). - -[167] _Post_, Chapter XXXVI., III. - -[168] I draw upon the extracts given in the thesis of M. Demimuid, _De -Bernardo Carnotensi grammatico professore et interprete Virgilii_ (Paris, -1873), who, as appears by his title, confuses the two Bernards. - -[169] The author of a bastard epitome on the Trojan War, see _post_, -Chapter XXXII., IV. - -[170] The above, in substance, is taken from Macrobius. - -[171] _Post_, Chapter XXXVII. - -[172] _Ante_, Chapter XXIX., II., and _post_, Chapter XXXVI., III. - -[173] _Post_, Chapter XXXVI., I. - -[174] For a successor or friendly rival to Chartres, in the interest taken -in grammar and classical literature, one should properly look to Orleans, -where apparently those studies continued to flourish. Cf. L. Delisle, "Les -Écoles d'Orléans au douzième siècle," _Annuaire-Bulletin de la Societé de -l'Histoire de France_, t. vii. (1869), p. 139 _sqq._ In a _Bataille des -septs arts_, by Henri d'Andeli, of the first half of the thirteenth -century, Logic, from its stronghold of Paris, vanquishes Grammar, whose -stronghold is Orleans. In the conflict, with much symbolic truth, -Aristotle overthrows Priscian, _Histoire littéraire de la France_, t. -xxiii. p. 225. - -[175] _Post_, Chapter XXXVII. - -[176] See _post_, Chapter XLI. and XLII. for the work of Grosseteste. - -[177] Cf. _post_, Chapter XXXIII. and XXXVII. - -[178] Cf. Specht, _Geschichte des Unterrichtswesens in Deutschland, etc._ -(Stuttgard, 1885), p. 75 and _passim_. - -Yet how soon and with what childish prattle youths might begin to speak -and write Latin is touchingly shown by a boy's letter, written from a -monastic school, to his parents. It just asks for various little things, -and its superscription is: "Parentibus suis A. agnus ablactatus pium -balatum": which seems to mean: "To his parents, A, a weaned lamb, sends a -loving bah." This and other curious little letters are ascribed to one -Robertus Metensis (_cir._ A.D. 900) (Migne 132, col. 533). - -[179] See Thurot, _Histoire des doctrines grammaticales au moyen âge; -Notices et extraits des MSS._ vol. 22, part 2, p. 85. For what is said in -the preceding and following pages the writer's obligations are deep to -this well-known work of Thurot, and to Reichling's edition of the -_Doctrinale_ of Alexander de Villa-Dei (_Mon. Germ. paedagogica_, XII., -Berlin, 1893). Paetow's _Arts Course at Medieval Universities_ (University -of Illinois, 1910) treats learnedly of these matters. - -[180] See Thurot, _o.c._ p. 204 _sqq._ - -[181] _Regere_, a mediaeval term not used in this sense by Priscian. - -[182] See the _Einleitung_ to Reichling's edition of the _Doctrinale_ -already referred to; also Thurot, _De Alexandri de Villa-Dei doctrinali_ -(Paris, 1850). The chief mediaeval rival of the _Doctrinale_ was the -_Graecismus_ of Eberhard of Bethune, written a little later. See Paetow, -_o.c._ p. 38. - -[183] _Doctrinale_, line 1561 _sqq._ - -[184] _Doctrinale_, 1603 _sqq._ - -[185] _Doctrinale_, 2330-2331. - -[186] See passage in Reichling's _Einleitung_, p. xxvii. - -[187] See _e.g._ _Une Grammaire latine inédite du XIII{e} siècle_, par Ch. -Fierville (Paris, 1886). - -[188] See Reichling, _o.c._ _Einleitung_, p. xix; Thurot, _Not. et extr._ -xxii. 2, p. 112 _sqq._ - -[189] See _e.g._ Thurot, _o.c._ p. 176 _sqq._; p. 216 _sqq._ - -[190] Thurot, _o.c._ pp. 126-127. - -[191] Thurot, _o.c._ p. 127. - -[192] _The Greek Grammar of Roger Bacon_, ed. by Nolan and Hirsch -(Cambridge, 1902). - -[193] Bacon defines _idioma_ "as the determined peculiarity (_proprietas_) -of language, which one _gens_ uses after its custom; and another _gens_ -uses another _idioma_ of the same language" (_Greek Grammar_, p. 26). -Dialect is the modern term. - -[194] _Greek Grammar_, p. 27. Bacon appears to have followed Priscian -chiefly. As to whether he used Byzantine models, or other sources, see the -Introduction to Nolan and Hirsch's edition of the _Greek Grammar_. These -thoughts inspiring Bacon's _Grammar_ became a veritable metaphysics in the -_Grammatica speculativa_ ascribed to Duns Scotus, see _post_, Chapter -XLII. - -[195] Cf. L. Rockinger, "Die Ars Dictandi in Italien," _Sitzungsber. -bayerisch. Akad._, 1861, pp. 98-151. For examples of these _dictamina_, -see L. Delisle, "Dictamina Magistri Berardi de Neapoli" (a papal notary -equally versed in law and rhetoric), _Notices et extraits des MSS., etc._, -vol. 27, part 2, p. 87 _sqq._; Ch. V. Langlois, "Formulaires de lettres," -etc., _Not. et ext._ vol. 32 (2), p. 1 _sqq._; _ibid._ vol. 34 (1), p. 1 -_sqq._ and p. 305 _sqq._ and vol. 35 (2), p. 409 _sqq._ - -[196] For the history of this school in the eleventh century, see _ante_, -Chapter XII. III. - -[197] The _Eptateuchon_ exists in manuscript. I have taken the above from -Clerval, _Les Écoles de Chartres au moyen âge_ (Chartres, 1895), p. 221 -_sqq._ Thierry appears to have written a commentary on Cicero's -_Rhetoric_. See _Mélanges Graux_, pp. 41-46. - -[198] _Metalogicus_, i. cap. xxiv. (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 199, col. 853-856). - -[199] _Polycraticus_, vii. 13 (Migne 199, col. 666). - -[200] _Metalogicus_, i. 24 (Migne 199, col. 856). - -[201] Cf. Clerval, _o.c._ p. 211 _sqq._ and p. 227 _sqq._ - -[202] _Metalogicus_, iii. 4 (Migne 199, col. 900). - -[203] Petrus Blesensis, _Epist._ 101 (Migne 207, col. 312). - -[204] _Epist._ 92 (Migne 207, col. 289). These letters are cited by -Clerval. - -[205] See _post_, Chapter XXXVI. I. - -[206] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 171, col. 1007-1056. - -[207] _Metalogicus_, i. 5. - -[208] See _post_, Chapter XXXV. I. - -[209] The works of Giraldus Cambrensis are published in Master of Rolls -Series, 21, in eight volumes. The last contains the _De instructione -principum_. Giraldus lived from about 1147 to 1220. - -[210] _Ante_, Chapter VIII. - -[211] Alcuin, _Ep._ 80 (Migne 100, col. 260). - -[212] Alcuin, _Ep._ 113, _ad Paulinum patriarcham_ (Migne 100, col. 341). - -[213] Traube, _Poëtae Lat. Aevi Carolini_ (_Mon. Germ._), 1, p. 243. Cf. -"Versus in laude Larii laci," by Paulus Diaconus, _ibid._ p. 42. - -[214] _Ante_, Chapter XII. - -[215] _Post_, Chapter XXXVI. III. - -[216] _Ep._ ii. 33 (Migne 171, col. 256). For the Latin text of this -letter see _post_, Chapter XXXI. - -[217] For the entire poem, which is of interest throughout, see _post_, -Chapter XXXII. I. - -[218] For the poem see Hauréau, _Mélanges poétiques d'Hildebert de -Lavardin_, p. 64 (Paris, 1882). - -[219] Hauréau, _o.c._ p. 56. - -[220] _Ibid._ p. 82. - -[221] _Ibid._ p. 144. - -[222] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 171, col. 1428. This volume of Migne also -contains the poems criticized and (some of them) edited by Hauréau in the -book already referred to. - -[223] Hildebert, _Epis._ i. 1 (Migne 171, col. 141). - -[224] Hildebert, _Ep._ i. 22 (Migne 171, col. 197). - -[225] A technical illustration from Roman law. - -[226] Hildeberti, _Ep._ ii. 12 (Migne 171, col. 172-177). Compare _Ep._ i. -17, consoling a friend on loss of place and dignities. Hildebert's works -are in vol. 171 of Migne's _Pat. Lat._ A number of his poems are more -carefully edited by Hauréau in _Notices et extraits des MSS., etc._, vol. -28, ii. p. 289 _sqq._; and some of them in vol. 29, ii. p. 231 _sqq._ of -the same series. The matter is more conveniently given by Hauréau in his -_Mélanges poétiques d'Hildebert de Lavardin_. On the man and his writings -see De servillers, _Hildebert et son temps_ (Paris, 1876); Hebert -Duperron, _De Venerabilis Hildeberti vita et scriptis_ (Bajocis, 1855); -also vol. xi. of _Hist. lit. de la France_; and (best of all) Dieudonné, -_Hildebert de Lavardin, sa vie, ses lettres, etc._ (Paris, 1898). - -[227] It is well known that the great Latin prose, in spite of variances -of stylistic intent and faculty among the individual writers, was an -artistic, not to say artificial creation, formed under the influence of -Greek models. Cicero is the supreme example of this, and he is also the -greatest of all Latin prose writers. After his time some great writers -(_e.g._ Tacitus, Quintilian) preserved a like tradition; others (_e.g._ -Seneca) paid less attention to it. And likewise on through the patristic -period, and the Middle Ages too, some men endeavoured to preserve a -classic style, while others wrote more naturally. - -[228] Even as it is necessary, in order to appreciate some of the methods -of the Latin classical poetry, to realize that their immediate antecedents -lay in Greek Alexandrian literature rather than in the older Greek -Classics. - -[229] See Taylor, _Classical Heritage_, chapter viii. - -[230] A palpable difficulty in judging mediaeval Latin literature is its -bulk. The extant Latin classics could be tucked away in a small corner of -it. Every well-equipped student of the Classics has probably read them -all. One mortal life would hardly suffice to read a moderate part of -mediaeval Latin. And, finally, while there are histories of the classic -literature in every modern tongue, there exists no general work upon -mediaeval Latin writings regarded as literature. Ebert's indispensable -_Allgemeine Geschichte der Literatur des Mittelalters_ ends with the tenth -century. The author died. Within the scope of its purpose Dr. Sandys' -_History of Classical Scholarship_ is compact and good. - -[231] _Ante_, Chapter X. - -[232] _Post_, Chapter XXXII., I. - -[233] See Sandys, _History of Classical Scholarship_, i. 463-464. - -[234] There was no attempt at classicism in the narrative in which he -recounted the _Translation_ of the relics of the martyrs Marcellinus and -Peter from Rome to his own new monastery at Seligenstadt (Migne 104, col. -537-594). It was an entertaining story of a pious theft, and one may be -sure that he wrote it more easily, and in a style more natural to himself -than that shown in his consciously imitative masterpiece. - -[235] _Ep._ vi. (Migne 100, col. 146). - -[236] _Ep._ xxxii. (Migne 100, col. 187). - -[237] _Ep._ xxxiii. (Migne 100, col. 187). - -[238] _Capitula ad Presbyteros_ (Migne 105, col. 202). - -[239] See _ante_, Chapter XII. - -[240] _Chronicon_, cap. 35 (Migne 139, col. 46). The sense is easy to -follow, but the impossible constructions render an exact translation quite -impossible. It is doubtful whether this Benedictus was an Italian. The -Italian writing of this period, like that of Liutprand, is easier than -among more painful students north of the Alps. But otherwise its qualities -are rarely more pronounced. Ease is shown, however, in the _Chronicon -Venetum_ of John the Deacon (d. cir. 1008). See _ante_, Chapter XIII., -III. - -[241] Migne 133. This work fills four hundred columns in Migne. On Odo see -_ante_, Chapter XII., II. - -[242] Odo of Cluny, _Collationes_, lib. i. cap. i. (Migne 133, col. 519 -and 520). - -"Therefore God, Creator and Judge of mankind, although He have justly -driven our race from that felicity of Paradise, yet mindful of His -goodness, lest man all guilt should incur what he deserves, softens the -sorrows of this pilgrimage with many benefits.... Indeed the purpose of -that same Scripture is to press us from the depravities of this life. For -to that end with its dreadful utterances, as with so many goads, it pricks -our heart, that man struck by fear may shudder, and may recall to memory -the divine judgments which he is wont so easily to forget, cut off by lust -of the flesh and the solicitudes of earth." - -[243] Ruotgerus, _Vita Brunonis_, cap. 4 and 6; Pertz, _Mon. Germ. -Script._ iv. p. 254, and Migne 134, col. 944 and 946. A translation of -this passage is given _ante_, Vol. I., p. 310. See _ibid._, p. 314, for -the scholarship and writings of Hermannus Contractus, an eleventh-century -German. Ruotger's clumsy Latin is outdone by the linguistic involutions of -the _Life of Wenceslaus_, the martyr duke of Bohemia, written toward the -close of the tenth century by Gumpoldus, Bishop of Mantua, who seems to -have cultivated classical rhetoric most disastrously (Pertz, _Mon. Germ. -Script._ iv. p. 211, and in Migne 135, col. 923 _sqq._). - -[244] From Thurot, _Notices et extraits, etc._, 22 (2), p. 87, and p. -341 _sqq._, one may see that the principles of construction stated by -mediaeval grammarians followed the usage of mediaeval writers in adopting -a simpler or more natural order than that of classical prose. An extract, -for example, from an eleventh-century MSS. indicates the simple order -which this grammarian author approved: _e.g._ "Johannes hodie venit de -civitate; Petrus, quem Arnulfus genuit et nutrivit, intellexit multa" -(Thurot, p. 87). - -[245] _Ante_, Chapter XXX., II. - -[246] So likewise in regard to verse, the perfected two-syllable rhyme -came first in Italy, and more slowly in the North, although the North was -to produce better Latin poetry. - -[247] _Ante_, Chapters XI., IV., and XVI. - -[248] _Opusc._ xiv., _De ordine erimitarum_ (Migne 145, col. 329). - -"We may see upon a tree a leaf ready to succumb beneath the wintry frosts, -and, with the sap of autumnal clemency consumed, even now about to fall, -so that it barely cleaves to the twig it hangs from, but displays most -evident signs of (its) light ruin. The blasts are quivering, wild winds -strike it from all sides, the mid-winter horror of heavy air congeals with -cold; and that you may marvel the more, the ground is strewn with the rest -of the leaves everywhere flowing down, and, with its locks laid low, the -tree is stripped of its grace; yet that alone, none other remaining, -endures, and, as the survivor of co-heirs, succeeds to the rights of the -brotherhood's possession. What then is left to be understood from -consideration of this thing, save that a leaf of a tree cannot fall unless -it receive beforehand the divine command?" - -This description is rhetorically elaborated; but Damiani commonly wrote -more directly, as in this sentence from a letter to a nobleman, in which -Damiani urges him not to fail in his duty to his mother through affection -for his wife: "Sed forte dices: mater mea me frequenter exasperat, duris -verbis meum et uxoris meae corda perturbat; non possumus tot injuriarum -probra perferre, non valemus austeritatis ejus et severae correptionis -molestias tolerare" (_Ep._ vii. 3; Migne 144, col. 466). This needs no -translation. - -[249] _Ante_, Chapter XI., IV. - -[250] _Proslogion_, cap. 24 (Migne 158, col. 239). - -"Awaken now, my soul, and rouse all thy mind, and consider, as thou art -able, of what nature and how great is that Good (God). For if single goods -are objects of delight, consider intently how delightful is that good -which contains the joy of all goods; and not such as in things created we -have tried, but differing as greatly as differs the Creator from the -creature. For if life created is good, how good is the life creatrix! If -joyful is the salvation wrought, how joyful is the salvation which wrought -all salvation! If lovely is wisdom in the knowledge of things created, how -lovely is the wisdom which created all from nothing. In fine, if there are -many and great delectations in things delightful, of what quality and -greatness is delectation (_i.e._ the delectation that we take) in Him who -made the delights themselves!" - -The reader may observe that the word-order of Anselm's Latin is preserved -almost unchanged in the translation. - -[251] "Meditatio II." (Migne 158, col. 722). - -"My soul is offended with my life. I blush to live; I fear to die. What -then remains for thee, O sinner, save that all thy life thou weepest over -all thy life, that it all may lament its whole self. But in this also is -my soul miserably wonderful and wonderfully miserable, since it does not -grieve as much as it knows itself (_i.e._ to the full extent of its -self-knowledge) but secure, is listless as if it knew not what it may be -suffering. O barren soul, what art thou doing? why art thou drowsing, -sinner soul? The Day of Judgment is coming, near is the great day of the -Lord, near and too swift the day of wrath, (that day!) day of tribulation -and distress, day of calamity and misery, day of shades and darkness, day -of cloud and whirlwind, day of the trump and the roar! O voice of the day -of the Lord--harsh! Why sleepest thou, soul lukewarm and fit to be spewed -out?" - -[252] Perhaps it may seem questionable to treat Anselm as an Italian, -since he left Lombardy when a young man. Undoubtedly his theological -interests were affected by his northern environment. But his temperament -and language, his diction, his style, seem to me more closely connected -with native temperament. - -[253] Annals for the year 1077 (Migne 146, col. 1234 _sqq._); also in -_Mon. Germ. Script._ iii. - -[254] _Sermo xvi._ (Migne 183, col. 851). The power of this passage keeps -it from being hysterical. But the monkish hysteria, without the power, may -be found in the writings of St. Bernard's jackal, William of St. Thierry, -printed in Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 180. Notice his _Meditationes_, for example; -also his _De contemplando Deo_, printed among St. Bernard's works (Migne -184, col. 365 _sqq._). - -[255] _Sermo xv._ (Migne 183, col. 847). Translated _ante_, Vol. I., p. -411. - -[256] _Ep._ xii., _ad Guigonem_ (Migne 182, col. 116). - -[257] Bernard, _Ep._ 112, _ad Gaufridum_ (Migne 182, col. 255). For -translation see _ante_, Vol. I., p. 398. - -[258] _E.g._ _Ep._ i. and 144 (Migne 182, col. 70 and 300). - -[259] _Ep._ 196, _ad Guidonem_ (Migne 182, col. 363). Translated _ante_, -Vol. I., p. 401. See also the preceding letter, 195. - -[260] As to Jerome's two styles see Goelzer, _La Latinité de St. Jerome_, -Introduction. - -[261] _Ep._ ii. 33 (Migne 171, col. 256). Translation _ante_, Chapter -XXX., III. - -[262] See _ante_, Chapter XXX., I. - -[263] "Against that signal gift of parent nature and grace, a shameless -wrangler has stirred up an old calumny, condemned by the judgment of our -ancestors; and, seeking everywhere comfort for his ignorance, he hopes to -advance himself toward glory, if he shall see many like himself, see them -ignorant, that is to say. For he has this special tumour of arrogance, -that he would be making himself the equal of others, exalting his own good -qualities (if they exist), and depreciating those of others. And he deems -his neighbour's defect to be his own advancement. - -"Now it is indubitable to all truly wise, that Nature, kindest parent of -all, and best-ordering directress, among the other living beings which she -brought forth, distinguished man with the prerogative of reason and -ennobled him with the exercise of eloquence (or 'with the use of speech'): -executing this with unremitting zeal and best-ordering decree, in order -that man who was pressed and dragged to the lowest by the heaviness of a -clodlike nature and the slowness of corporeal bulk, borne aloft as it were -by these wings might ascend to the heights, and by obtaining the crown of -true blessedness excel all others in happy reward. While Grace thus -fecundates Nature, Reason watches over the matters to be inspected and -considered; Nature's bosom gives forth, metes out the fruits and faculty -of individuals; and the inborn love of good, stimulating itself by its -natural appetite, follows this (_i.e._ the good) either solely or before -all else, since it seems best adapted to the bliss descried" (_Metal._ i. -1; Migne 199, col. 825). These translations are kept close to the -original, in order to show the construction of the sentences. - -[264] "There is another class of philosophers called the Ionic, and it -took its origin from the more remote Greeks. The chief of these was Thales -the Milesian, one of those seven who were called 'wise.' He, when he had -searched out the nature of things, shone among his fellows, and especially -stood forth as admirable because, comprehending the laws of astrology, he -predicted eclipses of the sun and moon. To him succeeded his hearer, -Anaximander, who (in turn) left Anaximenes as disciple and successor. -Diogenes, likewise his hearer, arose and Anaxagoras who taught that the -divine mind was the author of all things that we see. To him succeeded his -pupil Archelaus, whose disciple is said to have been Socrates, the master -of Plato, who, according to Apuleius, was first called Aristotle, but then -Plato from his breadth of chest, and was borne aloft to such height of -philosophy, by vigour of genius, by assiduity of study, by graciousness in -all his ways, and by sweetness and force of eloquence, that, as if seated -on the throne of wisdom, he has seemed to command by a certain ordained -authority the philosophers before and after him. And indeed Socrates is -said to have been the first to have turned universal philosophy to the -improvement and ordering of manners; since before him all had devoted -themselves chiefly to physics, that is to examining the things of nature" -(_Polycraticus_, vii. 5; Migne 199, col. 643). - -[265] "The most excellent man concluded his oration, and by the power of -the blessed Peter absolved all who had taken the vow to go, and by the -same apostolic authority confirmed it; and he instituted a suitable sign -of this so honourable vow; and as a badge of soldiering (or knighthood), -or rather, of being about to soldier, for God, he took the mark of the -Lord's Passion, the figure of a cross, made from material of any kind of -cloth, and ordered it to be sewed upon the tunics and cloaks of those -about to go. But if any one, after receiving this sign, or after making -open promise, should draw back from that good intent, by base repenting or -through affection for his kin, he ordained that he should be held an -outlaw utterly and perpetually, unless he turn and set himself again to -the neglected performance of his pledge. - -"Furthermore, with terrible anathema he damned all who within the term of -three years should dare to do ill to the wives, children, or property of -those setting forth on this journey of God. And finally he committed to a -certain and praiseworthy man (a bishop of some city on the Po, whose name -I am sorry never to have found or heard) the care and regulation of the -expedition, and conferred his own authority upon him over the tribute (?) -of Christian people wherever they should come. Whereupon giving his -benediction, in the apostolic manner, he placed his hands upon him. How -sagaciously that one executed the behest, is shown by the marvellous -outcome of so great an undertaking" (Guibert of Nogent, _Gesta Dei per -Francos_, ii. 2; Migne 156, col. 702). - -[266] _Hist. ecclesiastica_, pars iii. lib. xii. cap. 14 (Migne 188, col. -889-892). "Thomas, son of Stephen, approached the king, and offering him a -mark of gold, said: 'Stephen, son of Airard, was my sire, and all his life -he served thy father (William the Conqueror) on the sea. For him, borne on -his ship, he conveyed to England, when he proceeded to England in order to -make war on Harold. In this manner of service serving him until death he -gave him satisfaction, and honoured with many rewards from him, he -flourished grandly among his people. This privilege, lord king, I claim of -thee, and the vessel which is called _White Ship_ I have ready, fitted out -in the best manner for royal needs.' To whom the king said: 'I grant your -petition. For myself indeed I have selected a proper ship, which I shall -not change; but my sons, William and Richard, whom I cherish as myself, -with much nobility of my realm, I commend now to thee.' - -"Hearing these words the sailors were merry, and bowing down before the -king's son, asked of him wine to drink. He ordered three measures of wine -to be given them. Receiving these they drank and pledged their comrades' -health abundantly, and with deep potations became drunk. At the king's -order many barons with their sons went aboard the ship, and there were -about three hundred, as I opine, in that fatal bark. Then two monks of -Tiron, and Count Stephen with two knights, also William of Rolmar, and -Rabellus the chamberlain, and Edward of Salisbury, and a number of others, -went out from it, because they saw such a crowd of wanton showy youth -aboard. And fifty tried rowers were there and insolent marines, who having -seized seats in the ship were brazening it, forgetting themselves through -drunkenness, and showed respect for scarcely any one. Alas! how many of -them had minds void of pious devotion toward God!--'Who tempers the -exceeding rages of the sea and air.' And so the priests, who had gone up -there to bless them, and the other ministrants who bore the holy water, -they drove away with derision and loud guffaws; but soon after they paid -the penalty of their mocking. - -"Only men, with the king's treasure and the vessels holding the wine, -filled the keel of Thomas; and they pressed him eagerly to follow the -royal fleet which was already cutting the waves. And he himself, because -he was silly from drink, trusted in his skill and that of his satellites, -and rashly promised to outstrip all who were now ahead of him. Then he -gave the word to put to sea. At once the sailors snatched their oars, and -glad for another reason because they did not know what hung before their -eyes, they adjusted their tackle, and made the ship start over the sea -with a great bound. Now while the drunken rowers were putting forth all -their strength, and the wretched pilot was paying slack attention to -steering his course over the gulf, upon a great rock which daily is -uncovered by the ebbing wave and again is covered when the sea is at -flood, the left side of _White Ship_ struck violently, and with two -timbers smashed, all unexpectedly the ship, alas! was capsized. All cried -out together in such a catastrophe; but the water quickly filling their -mouths, they perished alike. Two only cast their hands upon the boom from -which hung the sail, and clinging to it a great part of the night, waited -for some aid. One was a butcher of Rouen named Berold, and the other a -well-born lad named Geoffrey, son of Gislebert of Aquila. - -"The moon was then at its nineteenth in the sign of the Bull, and lighted -the earth for nearly nine hours with its beams, making the sea bright for -navigators. Captain Thomas after his first submersion regained his -strength, and bethinking himself, pushed his head above the waves, and -seeing the heads of those clinging to some piece of wood, asked, 'What has -become of the king's son?' When the shipwrecked answered that he had -perished with all his companions, 'Miserable,' said he, 'is my life -henceforth.' Saying this, and evilly despairing, he chose to sink there, -rather than meet the fury of the king enraged for the destruction of his -child, or undergo long punishment in chains." - -[267] _Post_, Chapter XLI. - -[268] _Opus majus_, pars i. cap. 6. - -[269] _Op. maj._ ii. cap. 14. - -[270] _Op. maj._ iii. 1. - -[271] _Op. maj._ ii. 14. - -[272] For translation see _post_, Chapter XXXIV. - -[273] _Post_, Chapter XXXVIII. - -[274] _Itinerarium mentis in Deum_, Prologus, 2. - -[275] _Ibid._ cap. vii. 6. For translations see _post_, Chapter XXXVIII. - -[276] _Vita prima_, cap. xi. Translated _ante_, Vol. I., p. 427, note 1. - -[277] _Spec. perfectionis_, ed. Sabatier, cap. 53. Translated _ante_, Vol. -I., p. 427. - -[278] _Ibid._ cap. 93. Translated _ante_, Vol. I., p. 432. - -[279] Cap. li., ed. Graesse. - -"Annunciation Sunday (Advent) is so called, because on that day by an -angel the advent of the Son of God in the flesh was announced, for it was -fitting that the angelical annunciation should precede the incarnation, -for a threefold reason. For the first reason, of betokening the order, -that to wit the order of reparation should answer to the order of -transgression. Accordingly as the devil tempted the woman, that he should -draw her to doubt and through doubt to consent and through consent to -fall, so the angel announced to the Virgin, that by announcing he should -arouse her to faith and through faith to consent and through consent to -conceiving God's son. For the second reason, of the angelic ministry, -because since the angel is God's minister and servant, and the blessed -Virgin was chosen in order that she might be God's mother, and it is -fitting that the minister should serve the mistress, so it was proper that -the annunciation to the blessed Virgin should take place through an angel. -For the third reason, of repairing the angelical fall. Because since the -incarnation was made not only for the reparation of the human fall, but -also for the reparation of the angelical catastrophe, therefore the angels -ought not to be excluded. Accordingly as the sex of the woman does not -exclude her from knowledge of the mystery of the incarnation and -resurrection, so also neither the angelical messenger. Behold, God twice -announces to a woman by a mediating angel, to wit the incarnation to the -Virgin Mary and the resurrection to the Magdalene." The order of the Latin -words is scarcely changed in the translation. - -[280] In order that no reader may be surprised by the absence of -discussion of the antique antecedents of the more particular genres of -mediaeval poetry (Latin and Vernacular), I would emphasize the -impossibility of entering upon such exhaustless topics. Probably the very -general assumption will be correct in most cases, that genres of mediaeval -poetry (_e.g._ the Conflicts or _Débats_ in Latin and Old French) revert -to antecedents sufficiently marked for identification, in the antique -Latin (or Greek) poetry, or in the (extant or lost) productions of the -"low" Latin period from the third century downward. An idea of the -difficulty and range of such matters may be gained from Jeanroy, _Les -Origines de la poésie lyrique en France au moyen âge_ (Paris, 1889), and -the admirable review of this work by Gaston Paris in the _Journal des -savants_ for 1891 and 1892 (four articles). Cf. also Batiouchkof in -_Romania_, xx. (1891), pages 1 _sqq._ and 513 _sqq._ - -[281] Cf. Taylor, _Classical Heritage of the Middle Ages_, chap. ix. - -[282] There is much verse from noted men, Alcuin, Paulus Diaconus, -Walafrid Strabo, Rabanus Maurus, Theodulphus. It is all to be found in the -collection of Dümmler and Traube, _Poetae Latini aevi Carolini_ (_Mon. -Germ._ 1880-1896). - -[283] It is amusing to find a poem by Walafrid Strabo turning up as a -favourite among sixteenth-century humanists. The poem referred to, "De -cultura hortorum" (_Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ ii. 335-350), is a poetic -treatment of gardening, reminiscent of the Georgics, but not imitating -their structure. It has many allusions to pagan mythology. - -[284] _Post_, p. 193 _sqq._ - -[285] _Ante_, Vol. I., p. 147. - -[286] _Ante_, Chapter XI., III. - -[287] The following leonine hexameters are attributed to Donizo: - - "Chrysopolis dudum Graecorum dicitur usu, - Aurea sub lingua sonat haec Urbs esse Latina, - Scilicet Urbs Parma, quia grammatica manet alta, - Artes ac septem studiose sunt ibi lectae." - Muratori, _Antiquitates_, iii. p. 912. - -[288] William was a few years older than Donizo, and died about the year -1100. His hero is Robert Guiscard, and his poem closes with this bid for -the favour of his son, Roger: - - "Nostra, Rogere, tibi cognoscis carmina scribi, - Mente tibi laeta studuit parere Poeta: - Semper et auctores hilares meruere datores; - Tu duce Romano Dux dignior Octaviano, - Sis mihi, quaeso, boni spes, ut fuit ille Maroni." - Muratori, _Scriptores_, v. 247-248. - -[289] Muratori, _Script._ v. 407-457. - -[290] Muratori, _Script._ vi. 110-161; also in Migne. - -[291] Written at the close of the twelfth century. On these people see -Ronca, _Cultura medioevale e poesia Latina d' Italia_ (Rome, 1892). - -[292] Muratori, vii. pp. 349-482; Waitz, _Mon. Germ._ xxii. 1-338. Godfrey -lived from about 1120 to the close of the century. The _Pantheon_ was -completed in 1185. Cf. L. Delisle, _Instructions du comité des travaux -historiques, etc._; _Littérature latine_, p. 41 (Paris, 1890). - -[293] _Matthaei Vindocinensis ars versificatoria_, L. Bourgain (Paris, -1879). - -[294] _Ante_, Chapter XXX., III. - -[295] Text from Hauréau, _Les Mélanges poetiques d'Hildebert de Lavardin_, -p. 60: also in _Notices des manuscrits de la bib. nat._ t. 28, 2nd part -(1878), p. 331. - -[296] Hauréau gives a critical text of the _Carmen ad Astralabium filium_, -in _Notices et extraits, etc._, 34, part ii., p. 153 _sqq._ Other not -unpleasing instances of elegiac verse are afforded by the poems of Baudri, -Abbot of Bourgueil (d. 1130). They are occasional and fugitive -pieces--_nugae_, if we will. See L. Delisle, _Romania_, i. 22-50. - -[297] The substance of this poem has been given _ante_, Chapter XXIX. On -Alanus see also _post_, Chapter XXXVI., III. - -[298] It is printed in Migne 209. Cf. _post_, p. 230, note 1. - -[299] The _Ligurinus_ is printed in tome 212 of Migne's _Patrol. Lat._ On -its author see Pannenborg, _Forschungen zur deutschen Geschichte_, Band -ii. pp. 161-301, and Band xiii. pp. 225-331 (Göttingen, 1871 and 1873). - -[300] Alanus de Insulis, _De planctu naturae_ (Migne 210, col. 447). A -translation of the work has been made by D. M. Moffat (New York, 1908). -For other examples of Sapphic and Alcaic verses see Hauréau in _Notices et -extraits, etc._, 31 (2), p. 165 _sqq._ - -[301] Wilhelm Meyer, a leading authority upon mediaeval Latin -verse-structure, derives the principle of a like number of syllables in -every line from eastern Semitic influence upon the early Christians. See -_Fragmenta Burana_ (Berlin, 1901), pp. 151, 166. That may have had its -effect; but I do not see the need of any cause from afar to account for -the syllabic regularity of Latin accentual verse. - -[302] Again Wilhelm Meyer's view: see _l.c._ and the same author's -"Anfänge der latein. und griech. rhythmischen Dichtung," _Abhand. der -Bairish. Akad. Philos., philol. Klasse_, 1886. - -[303] _Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ i. 116. Cf. Ebert, _Gesch. etc._ ii. 86. -For similar verses see those on the battle at Fontanetum (A.D. 841), -_Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ ii. 138, and the carmen against the town of -Aquilegia, _ibid._ p. 150. - -[304] Cf. _ante_, Vol. I., pp. 227, 228. - -[305] Traube, _Poetae Lat. aevi Car._ iii. p. 731. Cf. Ebert, _Gesch. -etc._ ii. 169 and 325. - -[306] _Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ iii. 733. - -[307] Du Meril, _Poésies populaires latines_, i. 400. - -Perhaps the most successful attempt to write hexameters containing rhymes -or assonances is the twelfth-century poem of Bernard Morlanensis, a monk -of Cluny, beginning with the famous lines: - - "Hora novissima, tempora pessima sunt, vigilemus. - Ecce minaciter imminet arbiter ille supremus." - -Bernardi Morlanensis, _De contemptu mundi_, ed. by Thos. Wright, Master of -the Rolls Series, vol. 59 (ii.), 1872. Bernard says in his Preface, as to -his measures: "Id genus metri, tum dactylum continuum exceptis finalibus, -tum etiam sonoritatem leonicam servans...." - -[308] "Carmina Mutinensia," _Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ iii. 703. The poem has -forty-two lines, of which the above are the first four. The usual date -assigned is 924, but Traube in _Poet. aev. Car._ has put it back to 892. - -[309] See further text and discussion in Traube, "O Roma nobilis," -_Abhand. Bairish. Akad. Philos., philol. Klasse_, 1891. - -[310] The verbal Sequence or _prosa_ was thus a species of _trope_. Tropes -were interpolations or additions to the older text of the Liturgy. The -Sequences were the tropes appended to the last Alleluia of the _Gradual_, -the psalm chanted in the celebration of the Mass, between the reading of -the Epistle and the Gospel. Cf. Leon Gautier, _Poésie liturgique au moyen -âge_, chap. iii. (Paris, 1886); _ibid._ _Oeuvres poétiques d'Adam de -Saint-Victor_, p. 281 _sqq._ (3rd ed., Paris, 1894). - -[311] On the Sequence see Leon Gautier, _Poésie liturgique au moyen âge_ -(Paris, 1886), _passim_, and especially the comprehensive summary in the -notes from p. 154 to p. 159. Also see Schubiger, _Die Sängerschule St. -Gallus_ (1858), in which many of Notker's Sequences are given with the -music; also v. Winterfeld, "Die Dichterschule St. Gallus und Reichenau," -_Neue Jahrbücher f. d. klassisch. Altertum_, Bd. v. (1900), p. 341 _sqq._ - -The present writer has found Wilhelm Meyer's _Fragmenta Burana_ (Berlin, -1901) most suggestive; and in all matters pertaining to mediaeval Latin -verse-forms, use has been made of the same writer's exhaustive study: -"Ludus de Antichristo und über lat. Rythmen," _Sitzungsber. Bairisch. -Akad. Philos., philol. Klasse_, 1882. See also Ch. Thurot, "Notices, etc., -de divers MSS. latins pour servir à l'histoire des doctrines grammaticales -au moyen âge," in vol. xxii. (2) of _Notices et extraits des MSS._ pp. -417-457. - -[312] "May our trumpet be guided mightily by God's right hand, and may He -hear our prayers with gentle and tranquil ear: for our praise will be -accepted if what we sing with the voice a pure conscience sings likewise. -And that we may be able, let us all beseech divine aid to be always -present with us.... O good King, kind, just, and pitying, who art the way -and the door, unlock the gates of the kingdom for us, we beg, and pardon -our offences, that we may praise thy name now and through all the ages." - -[313] G. M. Dreves, "Die Prosen der Abtei St. Martial zu Limoges," p. 59 -(vol. vii. of Dreves's _Analecta hymnica medii aevi_; Leipzig, 1889). "Let -every band sing with fount renewed and the Spirit's grace with joyful -praise and clear mind. Now is made good the tenth part (_i.e._ the fallen -angels), undone by fault; and thus that celestial casting out is made good -in divine praise. Lo! the bright day of the Lord gleams through the broad -spaces of the world: in which all the redeemed people exult because -everlasting death is destroyed." - -[314] Published by Boucherie, "Mélanges Latins, etc.," _Revue des langues -romanes_, t. vii. (1875), p. 35. - -"Alleluia! O flock, proclaim joy; with melodious praise utter deeds divine -now fixed by revealed doctrine. Through the great sacrifice of Christ thou -art liberated from death; the gates of hell destroyed, opened are heaven's -doors. Now He rules all things celestial and terrestrial by eternal power; -wherein by the Father's authority He gives judgment always just." - -[315] See Gautier, _Poésie liturgique_, p. 147 _sqq._ It came somewhat -earlier in Italy. See Ronca, _Cultura medioevale, etc._, p. 348 _sqq._ -(Rome, 1892). - -[316] While Sequences may be called hymns, all hymns are not Sequences. -For the hymn is the general term designating a verbal composition sung in -praise of God or His saints. A Sequence then would be a hymn having a -peculiar history and a certain place in the Liturgy. - -[317] Contained in Migne 178, col. 1771 _sqq._ They have not been properly -edited or even fully published. - -[318] Reference should also be made to the six laments (_planctus_) -composed by Abaelard (Migne 178, col. 1817-1823). They are powerful -elegies, and exhibit a richness and variety of poetic measures. It may be -mentioned that the pure two-syllable rhyme is found in hymns ascribed to -Saint Bernard. - -[319] Leon Gautier, the editor of the _Oeuvres poétiques d'Adam de -Saint-Victor_, in his third edition of 1894, has thrown out from among -Adam's poems our first and third examples. On Adam see _ante_, Chapter -XXIX., II. - -[320] Gautier, _Oeuvres poétiques d'Adam de Saint-Victor_, i. 174. - -[321] Gautier, _o.c._ 3rd edition, p. 87. - -[322] Gautier, _o.c._ 1st edition, i. 201. - -[323] Did the Sequence exert an influence upon Hrotsvitha, the tiresome -but unquestionably immortal nun of Gandersheim, who flourished in the -middle and latter part of the tenth century? She wrote narrative poems, -like the _Gesta Ottonis_ (Otto I.) in leonine hexameters. Her pentameter -lines also commonly have a word in the middle rhyming with the last -syllable of the line. But it is in those famous pious plays of hers, -formed after the models of Terence, that we may look for a kind of writing -corresponding to that which was to progress to clearer form in the -Sequence. Without discussing to what extent the Latin of these plays may -be called rhythmical, one or two things are clear. It is filled with -assonances and rude rhymes, usually of one syllable. It has no clear -verse-structure, and the utterances of the _dramatis personae_ apparently -observe no regularity in the number of syllables, such as lines of verse -require. - -[324] For these and other songs, written after the manner of Sequences, -see Du Meril, _Poésies pop. lat._ i. p. 273 _sqq._ They are also printed -by Piper in _Nachträge zur älteren deutschen Lit._ (Deutsche Nat. Lit.) p. -206 _sqq._ and p. 234 _sqq._ See also W. Meyer, _Fragmenta Burana_, p. 174 -_sqq._ and Ebert, _Allgemeine Gesch. etc._ ii. 343 _sqq._ - -[325] Du Meril, _ibid._ i. p. 285. - -[326] Wil. Meyer, _Fragmenta Burana_, p. 180. - -[327] The best text of the "Phillidis et Florae altercatio" is Hauréau's -in _Notices et extraits_, 32 (1), p. 259 _sqq._ The same article has some -other disputes or _causae_, e.g. _causa pauperis scholaris cum -presbytero_, p. 289. - -[328] Du Meril, _Poésies pop. lat._ ii. p. 108 _sqq._ The piece is a -cento, and its tone changes and becomes brutal further on. The poems, from -which are taken the preceding citations, are to be found in Wright's -_Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes_ (London, 1841, Camden -Society); _Carmina Burana_, ed. J. A. Schmeller; "Gedichte auf K. -Friedrich I. (archipoeta)," in vol. iii. of Grimm's _Kleinere Schriften_. -Cf. also Hubatsch, _Die lateinischen Vagantenlieder_ (Gorlitz, 1870). The -best texts of many of these and other "Carmina Burana," and such like -poems, are to be found in the contributions of Hauréau to the _Notices et -extraits, etc._; especially in tome 29 (2), pp. 231-368; tome 31 (1), p. -51 _sqq._ - -[329] _Ante_, Vol. I., p. 145. - -[330] _Ante_, Chapter IX., II. and III. - -[331] For generous samples of it, see _Geistliche Lit. des Mittelalters_, -ed. P. Piper (Deutsche National Literatur). - -[332] For this novel, a Greek original is usually assumed; but the Middle -Ages had it only in a sixth-century Latin version. It was copied in -_Jourdain de Blaie_, a _chanson de geste_. See Hagen, _Der Roman von König -Apollonius in seinen verschiedenen Bearbeitungen_ (Berlin, 1878). The -other Greek novels doubtless would have been as popular had the Middle -Ages known them. In fact, the _Ethiopica_ of Heliodorus, and others of -these novels, did become popular enough through translations in the -sixteenth century. - -[333] Hugo of St. Victor says in the twelfth century: "Apud gentiles -primus Darhes Phrygius Trojanam historiam edidit, quam in foliis palmarum -ab eo scriptam esse ferunt" (_Erud. didas._ iii. cap. 3; Migne 176, col. -767). - -On the Trojan origin of the Franks, Britons, and other peoples, see Joly -in his "Benoit de St. More et le Roman de Troie," pp. 606-635 (_Mem. de la -Soc. des Antiquaires de Normandie_, vol. vii. 3{me} ser., 1869); also -Graf, _Roma nella memoria, etc., del medio aevo_. The Trojan origin of the -Franks was a commonplace in the early Middle Ages, see _e.g._ Aimoinus of -Fleury in beginning of his _Historia Francorum_, Migne 139, col. 637. - -On Dares the Phrygian and Dictys the Cretan see "Dares and Dictys," N. E. -Griffin (_Johns Hopkins Studies_, Baltimore, 1907); Taylor, _Classical -Heritage_, pp. 40 and 360 (authorities); also, generally, L. Constans, -"L'Épopée antique," in Petit de Julleville's _Histoire de la langue et de -la littérature française_, vol. i. (Paris, 1896). - -[334] Joseph of Exeter or de Iscano, as he is called, at the close of the -twelfth century composed a Latin poem in six books of hexameters entitled -_De bello Trojano_. It is one of the best mediaeval productions in that -metre. The author followed Dares, but his diction shows a study of Virgil, -Ovid, Statius, and Claudian. See J. J. Jusserand, _De Josepho Exoniensi -vel Iscano_ (Paris, 1877); A. Sarradin, _De Josepho Iscano, Belli Trojani, -etc._ (Versailles, 1878). - -[335] _Eneas_, ed. by Salverda de Grave (Halle, 1891), lines 7857-9262. - -[336] _Roman de Troie_, 5257-5270, ed. Joly; "Benoit de St. More et le -Roman de Troie, etc.," _Mem. de la Soc. des Antiquaires de Normandie_, -vol. vii. 3{me} ser., 1869. On its sources see also L. Constans, in Petit -de Julleville's _Hist. de la langue et de la litt. française_, vol. i. pp. -188-220. - -[337] _Roman de Troie_, 13235 _sqq._ - -[338] The _Roman de Thebes_, the third of these large poems, is temperate -in the adaptation and extension of its theme. Its ten thousand or more -lines of eight-syllable rhyming verse are no longer than the _Thebaid_ of -Statius, and as a narrative make quite as interesting reading. Statius, -who lived under Domitian, was a poet of considerable skill, but with no -genius for the construction of an epic. His work reads well in patches, -but does not move. Several books are taken up with getting the Argive army -in motion, and when the reader and Jove himself are wearied, it moves -on--to the next halt. And so forth through the whole twelve books. See -Nisard, _Études sur les poètes latins de la décadence_, vol. i. p. 261 -_sqq._ (2nd ed., Paris, 1849); Pichon, _Hist. de la litt. lat._ p. 606 -(2nd ed., Paris, 1898). The _Roman de Thebes_ was not drawn directly from -the work of Statius, but through the channels, apparently, of intervening -prose compendia. It also evidently drew from other works, as it contains -matters not found in Statius's _Thebaid_. It is easy, if not inspiring -reading. The style is clear, and the narrative moves. Of course it -presents a general mediaevalizing of the manners of Statius's somewhat -fustian antique heroes; it introduces courtly love (_e.g._ the love -between Parthonopeus and Antigone, lines 3793 _sqq._), mediaeval -commonplaces, and feudal customs. It drops the antique conception of -accursed fate as a fundamental motive of the plot, substituting in its -place the varied play of romantic and chivalric sentiment. - -Leopold Constans has made the _Roman de Thebes_ his own. Having followed -the story of Oedipus through the Middle Ages in his _Légende d'Oedipe, -etc._ (Paris, 1881) he has corrected some of his views in his critical -edition of the poem, "Le Roman de Thèbes," 2 vols., 1890 (_Soc. des -anciens textes français_), and has treated the same matters more popularly -in Petit de Julleville's _Hist. de la langue et de la litt. française_, -vol. i. pp. 170-188. These works fully discuss the sources, date, and -language of the poem, and the later redactions in prose and verse through -Europe. - -[339] On Pseudo-Callisthenes see Paul Meyer, _Alexandre le Grand dans la -littérature française du moyen âge_ (Paris, 1886); Taylor, _Classical -Heritage, etc._, pp. 38 and 360. In the last quarter of the twelfth -century Walter of Lille, called also Walter of Chatillon, wrote his -_Alexandreis_ in ten books of easy-flowing hexameters. It is printed in -Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 209, col. 463-572. Cf. _ante_, page 192. His work shows -that a mediaeval scholar-poet could reproduce a historical theme quite -soberly. His poem was read by other bookmen; but the Alexander of the -Middle Ages remained the Alexander of the fabulous vernacular versions. - -[340] See Gaston Paris, "Chrétien Légouais et autres imitateurs d'Ovide," -_Hist. litt. de la France_, t. xxix., pp. 455-525. - -[341] The words "nexum mancipiumque" are more formal and special than the -English given above. - -[342] The early law had as yet devised no execution against the debtor's -property. - -[343] The jurisconsults whose opinions were authoritative flourished in -the second and third centuries. The great five were Gaius, Julian, -Papinian, Ulpian, Paulus. Inasmuch as these jurisconsults of the Empire -were members of the Imperial (or, later, Praetorian) Auditory, they were -judges in a court of last resort, and their "responsa" were decisions of -actual cases. They subsequently "digested" them in their books. See Munroe -Smith, "Problems of Roman Legal History," _Columbia Law Review_, 1904, p. -538. - -[344] _Dig._ i. 1 ("De Just. et jure") 1. See Savigny, _System des -heutigen römischen Rechts_, i. p. 109 _sqq._ Apparently some of the -jurists (_e.g._ Gaius, _Ins._ i. 1) draw no substantial distinctions -between the _jus naturale_ and the _jus gentium_. Others seem to -distinguish. With the latter, _jus naturale_ might represent natural or -instinctive principles of justice common to all men, and _jus gentium_, -the laws and customs which experience had led men to adopt. For instance, -_libertas_ is _jure naturali_, while _dominatio_ or _servitus_ is -introduced _ex gentium jure_ (_Dig._ i. 5, 4; _Dig._ xii. 6, 64). _Jus -gentium_ represented common expediency, but its institutions (e.g. -_servitus_) might or might not accord with natural justice. For -_manumissio_ as well as _servitus_ was _ex jure gentium_ (_Dig._ i. 1, 4), -and so were common modes and principles of contract. Ulpian's notion of -the _jus naturale_ as pertaining to all animals, and _jus gentium_ as -belonging to men alone, was but a catching classification, and did not -represent any commonly followed distinction. - -[345] _Constitutio_ is the more general term, embracing whatever the -emperor announces in writing as a law. The term rescript properly applies -to the emperor's written answers to questions addressed to him by -magistrates, and to the decisions of his Auditory rendered in his name. - -[346] For this whole matter, see vol. i. of Savigny's _System des heutigen -römischen Rechts_; Gaius, _Institutes_, the opening paragraphs; and the -first two chapters of the first Book of Justinian's _Digest_. - -[347] _Dig._ i. 3, 32. - -[348] _Dig._ i. 3, 10, and 12. - -[349] _Dig._ i. 3, 14. - -[350] _Ibid._ 39. - -[351] _Dig._ l. 17, 30. - -[352] _Dig._ l. 17, 31. - -[353] _Ibid._ 54. - -[354] _Ibid._ 202. - -[355] _Dig._ l. 16, 24; _Ibid._ 17, 62. - -[356] _Cod. Theod._ (ed. by Mommsen and Meyer) i. 1, 5. - -[357] With the Theodosian Code the word _lex_, _leges_, begins to be used -for the _constitutiones_ or other decrees of a sovereign. - -[358] From the constitution directing the compilation of the _Digest_, -usually cited as _Deo auctore_. - -[359] The original plan of Theodosius embraced the project of a Codex of -the jurisprudential law. See his constitution of the year 429 in _Theod. -C._ i. 1, 5. Had this been carried out, as it was not, Justinian's -_Digest_ would have had a forerunner. - -[360] _Juliani epitome Latina Novellarum Justiniani_, ed. by G. Haenel -(Leipzig, 1873). - -[361] Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen und Lit. des röm. Rechts_, pp. 48-59, and -161 _sqq._; Mommsen, _Zeitschrift für Rechtsges_. 21 (1900), _Roman. -Abteilung_, pp. 150-155. - -[362] Ed. by Bluhme, _Mon. Germ. leges_, iii. 579-630. Cf. Tardif, -_Sources du droit français_, 124-128. A code of Burgundian law had already -been made. - -[363] Edited by Haenel, with the epitomes of it in parallel columns, under -the name of _Lex Romana Visigothorum_ (Leipzig, 1849). See Tardif, _o.c._ -129-143. - -[364] _Cod. Theod._ i. 4, 3; _Brev._ i. 4, 1. - -[365] On these epitomes and glosses see Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen, etc._, -pp. 222-252. Mention should be made of the Edict of Theodoric the -Ostrogoth, a piece of legislation contemporary with the _Breviarium_ and -the _Papianus_. In pursuance of Theodoric's policy of amalgamating Goths -and Romans, the Edict was made for both (_Barbari Romanique_). Its sources -were substantially the same as those of the _Breviarium_, except that -Gaius was not used. The sources are not given verbatim, but their contents -are restated, often quite bunglingly. Naturally a Teutonic influence runs -through this short and incomplete code, which contains more criminal than -private law. No further reference need be made to it because its influence -practically ceased with the reconquest of Italy by Justinian. It is edited -by Bluhme, in _Mon. Ger. leges_, v. 145-169. See as to it, Savigny, -_Geschichte des röm. Rechts_, ii. 172-181; Salvioli, _Storia del diritto -italiano_, 3rd ed., pp. 45-47. - -[366] Cf. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. p. 109 _sqq._ - -[367] For the characteristics and elements of early Teutonic law see -Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, Bd. i. - -[368] See Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. p. 254 _sqq._, and -338-340. - -[369] "Adversus Gundobadi legem," c. 4 (_Mon. Germ. leges_, iii. 504). As -to Agobard see _ante_, Vol. I. p. 232. - -[370] The matter is suggested here only in its general aspects. The -details present every kind of complication (for some purposes to-day a -court will apply the law of the litigant's domicile). The _professio_ -(_professus sum_ or _professa sum_), by which a man or woman formally -declares by what law he or she lives, remained common in Italy for five -centuries after Pippin's conquest, and indicates the legal situation -there, especially of the Teutonic newcomers. - -[371] One sees an analogy in the fortunes of the Boëthian translations of -the more advanced treatises of Aristotle's _Organon_. They fell into -disuse (or never came into use) and so were "lost" until they came to -light, _i.e._ into use, in the last part of the twelfth century. - -[372] See Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen_, pp. 182-187. - -[373] See Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen, etc._, pp. 162-166, 168-182, 192-202, -240-252. - -[374] See Salvioli, _Storia di diritto italiano_, 3rd ed., 1899, pp. -84-90; ibid. _L' Istruzione pubblica in Italia nei secoli VIII. IX. X._; -Tardif, _Hist. des sources du droit français_, p. 281 _sqq._; Savigny, -_Geschichte, etc._, iv. pp. 1-9; Fitting, "Zur Geschichte der -Rechtswissenschaft im Mittelalter," _Zeitschrift für Rges. Sav. Stift., -Roman. Abteil._, Bd. vi., 1885, pp. 94-186; ibid. _Juristische Schriften -des früheren Mittelalters_, 108 _sqq._ (Halle, 1876). - -[375] A contemporary notice speaks of the enormous number of judges, -lawyers, and notaries in Milan about the year 1000. Salvioli, _L' -Istruzione pubblica, etc._, p. 78. It is hard to imagine that no legal -instruction could be had there. - -[376] The evidence is gathered in different parts of Savigny's -_Geschichte_. - -[377] _De parentelae gradibus_, see Savigny, _Geschichte_, Bd. iv. p. 1 -_sqq._ - -[378] See Savigny, _Geschichte_, Bd. ii. pp. 134-163 (the text is -published in an Appendix to that volume, pp. 321-428); Conrat, _Ges. der -Quellen, etc._, pp. 420-549; Tardif, _Hist. des sources du droit -français_, pp. 213-246. - -[379] This follows the so-called Tübingen MSS., the largest immediate -source of the _Petrus_. As well-nigh the entire substance of the _Petrus_ -is drawn from the immediately prior compilations (which are still -unpublished) its characteristics are really theirs. - -[380] Apparently the chief magistrate of Valence: "Valentinae civitatis -magistro magnifico." - -[381] _Petri exceptiones_, iii. 69. - -[382] _Petrus_, i. 66. - -[383] See Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen, etc._, 550-582; Tardif, _Hist. des -sources, etc._, pp. 207-213; Fitting, _Zeitschrift für Rges._ Bd. vi. p. -141. It is edited by Bocking (Berlin, 1829) under the title of _Corpus -legum sive Brachylogus juris civilis_. - -[384] For instance, _Brach._ ii. 12, "De juris et facti ignorantia," is -short and clear. It follows mainly _Digest_ xxii. 6. - -[385] _Summa Codicis des Irnerius_, ed. by Fitting (Berlin, 1894). See -Introduction, and also Fitting in _Zeitschrift für Rechtsgeschichte_, Bd. -xvii. (1896), _Romanische Abteilung_, pp. 1-96. - -[386] Cf. _Summa Codicis Irnerii_, vii. 23, and vii. 31. 1. - -[387] _Summa Codicis Irnerii_, i. 14. The corresponding passages in -Justinian's Codification are _Dig._ i. 3, lex 12 and 38, and _Codex_ vii. -45, lex 13. - -[388] _Summa Codicis Irnerii_, vii. 22 and 23. The chief Justinianean -sources are _Dig._ xli. 2, and _Cod._ xii. 32. - -[389] See Salvioli, _Manuale, etc._, pp. 65-68; ibid. _L' Istruzione -pubblica in Italia_, pp. 72-75; Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. -p. 387 _sqq._ - -[390] _Post_, Chapter XXXV., I. - -[391] The Bologna school is commonly called the school of the glossators. -Their work was to expound the law of Justinian; and their glosses, or -explanatory notes, were the part of their writings which had the most -permanent influence. The glosses were originally written between the lines -or on the margins of the codices of the _Digest_, _Codex_, _Novels_, and -_Institutes_. - -[392] Savigny gives examples of Irnerius's glosses in an appendix to the -fourth volume of his _Geschichte_. Pescatore (_Die Glossen des Irnerius_, -Greifswald, 1888) maintains that Savigny overstates the difference between -the interlinear and the marginal glosses of Irnerius. - -[393] On Placentinus see Savigny, _Geschichte_, iv. pp. 244-285. - -[394] _Proemium_ to _De var. actionum_, given by Savigny, iv. p. 540. - -[395] This is from the _proemium_ attached to one old edition, and is -given in Sav. _Ges._ iv. p. 245. In an appendix, p. 542, Savigny gives an -even more florid _proemium_ to the _Summa Codicis_ from a manuscript. - -[396] On Azo, see Savigny, _Ges._ v. pp. 1-44. - -[397] Quoted by Savigny. On Accursius see Sav. _Ges._ v. pp. 262-305. - -[398] On Bartolus see Savigny, _Ges. etc._ vi. pp. 137-184. - -[399] Cf. Savigny, _Ges._ v. pp. 222-261. - -[400] "Ecclesia vivit lege Romana," _Lex Ribuaria_, 58. This was -universally recognized, although the individual _clericus_ might remain -amenable to the law of his birth. - -[401] For these matters see primarily the sixteenth book of the Theodosian -Code, and book i. chap. 27. Also the suspected _Constitutiones -Sirmondianae_ attached to that Code. Justinian's _Codex_ and _Novellae_ -add much. Zorn, in his _Kirchenrecht_, p. 29 _sqq._, gives a convenient -synopsis of the matter. - -[402] One observes that the opening chapter of Justinian's _Digest_ speaks -of _jurisprudentia_ as knowledge of divine as well as human matters. - -[403] _Decretum_, i. dist. viii. c. i. - -[404] _Decretum_, i. dist. ix. c. xi.; see _ibid._ dist. xiii., opening. - -[405] Tardif, _Sources du droit canonique_, p. 175 _sqq._, has been -chiefly followed here. - -[406] On the above matters see (with the authorities and bibliographies -therein given) Maasen, _Geschichte der Quellen, etc., der canonischen -Rechts_ (Bd. i., to the middle of the ninth century); Tardif, _Sources du -droit canonique_ (Paris, 1887); Zorn, _Lehrbuch des Kirchenrechts_ -(Stuttgart, 1888); Gerlach, _Lehrbuch des catholischen Kirchenrechts_ (5th -edition, Paderborn, 1890); Hinschius, _Decretales pseudo-Isidorianae_ -(Leipzig, 1863); _Corpus juris canonici_, ed. by Friedberg (Leipzig, -1879-1881). - -[407] Jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts embraced marriage and -divorce, wills and inheritance, and, by virtue of their surveillance of -usury and vows and oaths, practically the whole relationship between -debtor and creditor. - -[408] Volume ii. of R. W. and A. J. Carlyle's _History of Mediaeval -Political Theory in the West_ (1909) maintains that the statements of -papal pretensions which were incorporated in the recognized collections of -_Decretals_ were less extreme than those emanating from the papacy under -stress of controversy. - -[409] See Gierke, _Political Theories of the Middle Ages_, trans. by -Maitland (Cambridge, 1900), p. 22 _sqq._ and notes. I would express my -indebtedness to this book for these pages on mediaeval political theories. -Dunning's _History of Political Theories_ is a convenient outline; -Carlyle's _History of Mediaeval Political Theory_ gives the sources -carefully. - -[410] Occasionally _studium_ (knowledge, study, or science) is introduced -as a third part or element of the human community or of human life. Thus -in the famous statement of Jordanes of Osnabrück--the Romans received the -Sacerdotium, the Germans the Imperium, the French the Studium. See Gierke, -_Political Theories_, p. 104, note 8. - -[411] Cf. Gierke, _o.c._ p. 109, note 16. But compare Carlyle, _o.c._ vol. -ii. part ii. chaps. vii.-xi. - -[412] Even toward the close of the Middle Ages Marsilius of Padua was -almost alone in positing the absolute supremacy of the State, says Gierke. - -[413] See Gierke, _o.c._ p. 144, note 131, and compare notes 132, 133, and -183 for attacks upon the plenary power of the pope. - -[414] Gierke, _o.c._ pp. 31-32, and p. 139, notes 107 and 108. - -[415] _Dig._ i. 4, 1; Gierke, _o.c._ p. 39 and pp. 146, 147. - -[416] Gierke, _o.c._ p. 64. - -[417] Gierke, _o.c._ p. 172, note 256. Cf. _ante_, p. 268. - -[418] See Gierke, _o.c._ pp. 73-86, and corresponding notes. - -[419] Little will be said in these pages of palpable crass heretics like -the Cathari, for example. The philosophic ideas of such seem gathered from -the flotsam and jetsam of the later antique world; their stock was not of -the best, and bore little interesting fruit for later times. Such -mediaeval heresies present no continuous evolution like that of the proper -scholasticism. Progress in philosophy and theology came through _academic_ -personages, who at all events laid claim to orthodoxy. All lines of -advance leading on to later phases of philosophic, scientific, and -religious thought, lay within the labours of such, some of whom, however, -were suspected or even condemned by the Church, like Eriugena, Abaelard, -or Roger Bacon. But these men did not stand apart from orthodox academic -circles, and were never cast out by the Church. Thought and learning in -the Middle Ages were domiciled in monastic, episcopal, or university -circles; and these were at least conventionally orthodox. - -It has been said, to be sure, that the heresy of one generation becomes -the orthodoxy of another; but this is true only of tendencies like those -of Abaelard, which represent the gradual expansion and clearing up of -scholastic processes. For the time they may be condemned, perhaps because -of the vain and contentious character of the suspected thinker; but in the -end they are recognized as admissible. - -The Averroists constitute an apparent exception. Yet they were a -philosophic and academic sect, whose heresy consisted in an implicit -following of Aristotle as interpreted by Averroes. Moreover, they sought -to save their orthodoxy by their doctrine of the two kinds of truth, -philosophic and theological or dogmatic. It is not clear that much -fruitful thought came from their school. The positions of Siger de -Brabant, a prominent Averroist and contemporary of Aquinas, are referred -to _post_, Chapter XXXVII. The best account of Averroism is Mandonnet's -_Siger de Brabant et l'averroisme latin au XIII{e} siècle_ (a second -edition, Louvain, is in preparation). See also De Wulf, _Hist. of Medieval -Philosophy_ (3rd. ed., Longmans, 1909) p. 379 _sqq._ with authorities -cited. - -[420] Called also his _Summa philosophica_, to distinguish it from his -_Summa theologiae_. - -[421] _Summa theologiae_, i. i., quaestio i. art. 1-8. - -[422] _Post_, Chapter XXXVI., I. - -[423] Even the Averroists were more mediaeval than Greek, inasmuch as they -professed to follow Aristotle implicitly. Cf. _post_, Chapter XXXVII., at -the end. - -[424] A touch of "salvation," or salvation's need, is on Plato when his -"philosophy" becomes a consideration of death ([Greek: meletê thanatou]) -and a process of growing as like to God ([Greek: omoiôsis theô]) as man -can. _Phaedo_, 80 E, and _Theaetetus_, 176 A. - -[425] _Historia calamitatum_, cap. 9 and 10. Cf. _post_, p. 303. - -[426] _Post_, Chapter XLI. - -[427] _Ante_, p. 298. I cannot avoid referring to Abaelard several times -before considering the man and his work more specifically, and in the -proper place; _post_, Chapter XXXVI. I. - -[428] _Introductio ad theologiam_, lib. ii. (Migne 178, col. 1039). - -[429] See Denifle, "Die Sentenzen Abaelard's und die Bearbeitungen seiner -Theologia," _Archiv für Literatur und Kirchengeschichte_, i. p. 402 _sqq._ -and p. 584 _sqq._ Also Picavet, "Abélard et Alexander de Hales, créateurs -de la méthode scholastique," _Bib. de l'école des hautes études, sciences -religieuses_, t. vii. p. 221 _sqq._ - -[430] Two extracts, one from the _Sentences_ and one from the _Summa_, -touching the same matter, will illustrate the stage in the scholastic -process reached by Peter Lombard, about the year 1150, and that attained -by Thomas Aquinas a hundred years later. - -The Lombard's _Four Books of Sentences_ are divided into _Distinctiones_, -with sub-titles to the latter. Distinctio xlvi. of the first Book bears -the general title: "The opinion (_sententia_) declaring that the will of -God which is himself, cannot be frustrated, seems to be opposed by some -opinions." The first subdivision of the text begins: "Here the question -rises. For it is said by the authorities above adduced [the preceding -Distinctio had discussed "The will of God which is His essence, one and -eternal"] that the will of God, which is himself, and is called His good -pleasure (_beneplacitum_) cannot be frustrated, because by that will -_fecit quaecumque voluit in caelo et in terra_, which--witness the -Apostle--_nihil resistit_. [I leave the Scriptural quotations in Latin, so -as to mark them.] It is queried, therefore, how one should understand what -the Apostle says concerning the Lord, 1 Tim. 2: _Qui vult omnes homines -salvos fieri_. For since all are not saved, but many are damned, that -which God wills to take place, seems not to take place (become, _fieri_), -the human will obstructing the will of God. The Lord also in the Gospel -reproaching the wicked city, Matt, xxiii., says: _Quoties volui congregare -filios tuos, sicut gallina congregat pullos suos sub alis, et noluisti_. -Thus it might seem from these, that the will of God may be overcome by the -will of men, and, resisted by the unwillingness of the weakest, the Most -Strong may prove unable to do what He willed. Where then is that -omnipotence by which in _coelo et terra_, according to the Prophet, _omnia -quaecumque voluit fecit_? And how does nothing withstand His will, if He -wished to gather the children of Jerusalem, and did not? For these sayings -seem indeed to oppose what has been stated." - -The second paragraph proceeds: "But let us see the solution, and first -hear how what the Lord said should be understood. For it was not intended -to mean (as Augustine says, _Enchiridion_, c. 97, solving this question) -that the Lord wished to gather the children of Jerusalem, and did not do -what He willed because she would not; but rather she did not wish her -children to be gathered by Him, yet in spite of her unwillingness (_qua -tamen nolente_) He gathered all He willed of her children.... And the -sense is: As many as I have gathered by my will, always effective, I have -gathered, thou being unwilling. Hence it is evident that these words of -the Lord are not opposed to the authorities referred to." - -(Paragraph 3) "Now it remains to see how the aforesaid words do not -contradict what the Apostle said of the Lord: _Vult omnes homines salvos -fieri_. Because of these words many have wandered from the truth, saying -that God willed many things which did not come to pass. But the saying is -not thus to be understood, as if God willed any to be saved, and they were -not. For who can be so impiously foolish as to say that God cannot change -the evil wills of men to good when and where He will? Surely what is said -in Psalm 113, _Quaecumque voluit fecit_, is not true, if He willed -anything and did not accomplish it. Or,--(and this is still more shameful) -for that reason He did not do it, because what the Omnipotent willed to -come to pass, the will of man obstructed. Hence when we read in Holy -Scripture _velit omnes homines salvos fieri_, we should not detract from -the will of omnipotent God, but understand the text to mean that no man is -saved except whom He wills to be saved: not that there is no man whom He -does not will to be saved, but that no man may be saved except whom He -wills should be saved.... Thus also is to be understood the text from John -i.: _Illuminat omnem hominem venientem in hunc mundum_; not as if there is -no man who is not lighted, but that none is lighted save from Him...." - -The next and fourth paragraph takes up the problem whether evil, that is -sin, takes place by the will of God, or He unwilling (_eo nolente_). "As -to this, divers men thinking diversely have been found in contradiction. -For some say that God wills evils to be or become (_esse vel fieri_) yet -does not will evils. But others say that He neither wills evils to be nor -to become. Yet these and those agree in declaring that God does not will -evils. Yet each with arguments as well as authorities strives to make good -his assertion." We will not follow the Lombard through this thorny -problem. He cuts his way with passages from his chief patristic authority, -Augustine, and in the end concludes: "Leaving this and other like foolish -opinions, and favouring the sounder view, which is more fully sanctioned -by the testimonies of the Saints, we may say that God neither wills evils -to become, nor wills that they should not become, nor yet is He unwilling -(_nolle_) that they should become. All that He wills to become, becomes, -and all that He wills not to become does not become. Yet many things -become which He does not will to become, as every evil." - -Thus the Lombard. Now let us see how Thomas, in his _Summa theologiae_, -Pars Prima, Quaestio xix. Articulus ix. expounds the point: _utrum -voluntas Dei sit malorum_. - -"As to the ninth articulus thus one proceeds. (1) It seems [_Videtur_, -formula for stating the initial argument which will not be approved] that -the will of God is [the cause] of evils. For God wills every good that -becomes (_i.e._ comes into existence). But it is good that evils should -come; for Augustine says in the _Enchiridion_: 'Although those things -which are evils, in so far as they are evils, are not goods; yet it is -good (_bonum_) that there should be not only goods (_bona_) but evils.' -Therefore God wills evils." - -"(2) Moreover [_Praeterea_, Thomas's regular formula for introducing the -succeeding arguments, which he will not approve] Dionysius says, iv. cap. -_de divinis nominibus_: 'There will be evil making for the perfection of -the whole.' And Augustine says in the _Enchiridion_: 'Out of all (things) -the admirable beauty of the universe arises; wherein even that which is -called evil, well ordered and set in its place, commends the good more -highly; since the good pleases more, and is the more praiseworthy, when -compared with evil.' But God wills everything that pertains to the -perfection and grace of the universe; since this is what God chiefly wills -in His creation. Therefore God wills evils." - -"(3) Moreover, the occurrence and non-occurrence of evils (_mala fieri, et -non fieri_) are contradictory opposites. But God does not will evils not -to occur; because since some evils do occur, the will of God would not be -fulfilled. Therefore God wills evils to occur." - -"_Sed contra est_ [Thomas's formula for stating the opinion which he will -approve] what Augustine says in his book of Eighty-three Questions: 'No -wise man is the author of man's deterioration; yet God is more excellent -than any wise man; much less then, is God the author of any one's -deterioration. But He is said to be the author when He is spoken of as -willing anything. Therefore man becomes worse, God not willing it. But -with every evil, something becomes worse. Therefore God does not will -evils.'" - -"_Respondeo dicendum quod_ [Thomas's formula for commencing his -elucidation] since the reason (or ground or cause, _ratio_) of the good is -likewise the reason of the desirable (as discussed previously), evil is -opposed to good: it is impossible that any evil, as evil, should be -desired, either by the natural appetite or the animal, or the -intellectual, which is will. But some evil may be desired _per accidens_, -in so far as it conduces to some good. And this is apparent in any -appetite. For the natural impulse (_agens naturale_) does not aim at -privation or destruction (_corruptio_); but at form, to which the -privation of another form may be joined (_i.e._ needed, _conjungitur_); -and at the generation of one, which is the destruction of another. Thus a -lion, killing a stag, aims at food, to which is joined the killing of an -animal. Likewise the fornicator aims at enjoyment, to which is joined the -deformity of guilt. - -"Thus evil which is joined to some good, is privation of another good. -Never, therefore, is evil desired, not even _per accidens_, unless the -good to which the evil is joined appears greater than the good which is -annulled through the evil. But God wills no good more than His goodness; -yet He wills some one good more than some other good. Hence the evil of -guilt, which destroys relationship to divine good (_quod privat ordinem ad -bonum divinum_), God in no way wills. But the evil of natural defect, or -the evil of penalty, He wills in willing some good to which such evil is -joined; as, in willing righteousness He wills penalty; and in willing that -the order of nature be preserved, He wills certain natural corruptions. - -"_Ad primum ergo dicendum_ [Thomas's formula for commencing his reply to -the first false argument] that certain ones have said that although God -does not will evils, He wills evils to be or become: because, although -evils are not goods, yet it is good that evils should be or become. They -said this for the reason that those things which are evil in themselves, -are ordained for some good; and they deemed this ordainment involved in -saying _mala esse vel fieri_. But that is not said rightly. Because evil -is not ordained for good _per se_ but _per accidens_. For it is beyond the -sinner's intent, that good should come of it; just as it was beyond the -intent of the tyrants that from their persecutions the patience of the -martyrs should shine forth. And therefore it cannot be said that such -ordainment for good is involved in saying that it is good for evil to be -or become: because nothing is adjudged according to what pertains to it -_per accidens_ but according to what pertains to it _per se_." - -"_Ad secundum dicendum_ that evil is not wrought for the perfection or -beauty of the whole except _per accidens_, as has been shown. Hence this -which Dionysius says that evil makes for the perfection of the whole may -lead to an illogical conclusion." - -"_Ad tertium dicendum_ that although the occurrence and non-occurrence of -evils are opposed as contradictories; yet to will the occurrence and to -will the non-occurrence of evils, are not opposed as contradictories, -since both one and the other may be affirmative. God therefore neither -wills the occurrence nor the non-occurrence of evils; but wills to permit -their occurrence. And this is good." - -[431] _Ante_, Chapter XII. - -[432] _Ante_, pp. 289 _sqq._ - -[433] The _Speculum majus_ of Vincent of Beauvais will afford the -principal example of the resulting hybrid arrangement. - -[434] Ludwig Baur, _Dominicus Gundissalinus, De divisione philosophiae_ -(Baeumker's _Beiträge_, Münster, 1903), p. 193 _sqq._, to which I am -indebted for what I have to say in the next few pages. - -[435] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 64, col. 10 _sqq._ - -[436] These works were written near the middle of the twelfth century. -Gundissalinus was Archdeacon of Segovia and drew upon Arab writings. - -[437] See L. Baur, _Gundissalinus, etc._, p. 376 _sqq._ - -[438] The treatise is not printed. Its captions are given by L. Baur in -his _Gundissalinus_, pp. 368-375, from which I have borrowed what I give -of them. - -[439] _Liber de praedicabilibus_ (tome 1 of Albertus's works), which in -scholastic logic means the five "universals," genus, species, difference, -property, accident, (also called the _quinque voces_) discussed in -Porphyry's Introduction to the _Categories_. The _Categories_ themselves -are called _praedicamenta_. - -[440] The above gives the arguments of chapters i. and ii. of the work. -One notices that Albertus in this exposition of the subject of Porphyry's -treatise, is using the _method_ which Thomas brings to syllogistic -perfection in his _Summa_. - -[441] It was printed, more than once, in the late fifteenth century; the -most readable edition is that printed at Douai in 1624, in four huge -folios. - -[442] Boundless as the work appears, neither in mental powers, nor -learning, nor in massiveness of achievement, is its author to be compared -with Albertus Magnus. The _De universo_ of Rabanus Maurus, Migne 111, col. -9-612, is in its arrangement and method a forerunner of Vincent's -_Speculum_. Later predecessors were the English Franciscan Bartolomaeus, -whose encyclopaedic _De proprietatibus rerum_ was written a little before -the middle of the twelfth century (see Felder, _Studien in -Franciscanerorder, etc._, pp. 251-253); and Lambertus Audomarensis (St. -Omer) with his _Liber floridus_, a general digest of knowledge, -historical, ecclesiastical, and natural, taken from many writers, an -account of which is given in Migne 163, col. 1004 _sqq._ - -[443] Here, of course, we have the hands of Esau, but the voice of -Augustine and Orosius! - -[444] The above is from cap. 9 of liber i. of the _Speculum doctrinale_. - -[445] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 34, col. 246-485. - -[446] _Ante_, p. 290. - -[447] The three theological virtues are _fides_, _spes_, and _caritas_. -They are called thus because _Deum habent pro objecto_; and because they -are poured (_infunduntur_) into us by God alone. They are distinguished -from the moral and intellectual virtues because their object surpasses our -reason, while the object of the moral and intellectual virtues can be -comprehended by human reason (_Summa_, _Pars prima secundae_, Quaestio -lxii., Art. 1-4). - -[448] [Greek: hexis meta logou alêthous poiêtikê], Arist. _Nich. Ethics_, -vi. 4. - -[449] One notes that these two, like many other of the vices enumerated, -are vices in that they are extremes, in the Aristotelian sense. - -[450] We are at Quaestio clxxi. of _Secunda secundae_. - -[451] The order which Thomas would have followed in the unfinished -conclusion of his _Summa theologiae_, may be inferred from the order of -the last half of Book IV. of his _Contra Gentiles_, or indeed from the -last part of the fourth Book of the Lombard's _Sentences_. - -[452] _Ante_, Chapter XII. - -[453] There were, of course, attempts at translation, notably those of -Notker the German (see _ante_, Vol. I., p. 308) and Alfred's translation -of Boëthius's _De consolatione_. But such were made only of the popular -parts of Scripture (_e.g._ the Psalms) or of very elementary profane -treatises. To what extent Notker's translations were used, is hard to say. -But at all events any one really seeking learning, studied and worked and -thought in the medium of Latin; for the bulk of the patristic writings -never were translated; and when the works of Aristotle had at last reached -the Middle Ages in the Latin tongue, they were studied in that tongue. -Because of the crudeness of the vernacular tongues, the Latin classics -were even more untranslatable in the tenth or eleventh century than now. - -One may add, that it was fortunate for the progress of mediaeval learning -that Latin was the _one_ language used by all scholars in all countries. -This facilitated the diffusion of knowledge. How slow and painful would -have been that diffusion if the different vernacular tongues had been used -in their respective countries, for serious writing. - -[454] _Ante_, Chapter XII., I. - -[455] _Eruditio didascalica_, i. cap. 12 (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 176, col. -750). - -[456] Cf. Abelson, _The Seven Liberal Arts_ (New York, 1906). - -[457] I am speaking generally, that is to say, omitting for the present -the aberrant or special or intrusive tendencies found in a man like Roger -Bacon, for example. They were of importance for what was to come -thereafter; but are not broadly representative of the Middle Ages. - -[458] St. Anselm, _Epist._ lib. iii. 41, _ad Fulconem_ (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ -158, col. 1192). So Roscellin showed in his own case how problems -primarily logical could pass over to metaphysics or theology. Likewise, -although on the other side of the controversy, one, Odo of Tournai, a good -contemporary realist, found realism an efficient aid in explaining the -transmission of original sin; since for him all men formed but one -substance, which was infected once for all by the sin of the first -parents. Cf. Hauréau, _Hist. de la philosophie scholastique_, i. pp. -297-308; De Wulf, _Hist. of Medieval Philosophy_, p. 156, 3rd ed. - -[459] Abaelard, _Hist. calamitatum_, chap. 2. - -[460] _Ante_, Chapter XXV. - -[461] _Ante_, Chapter XII., I. - -[462] Abaelard's _Dialectica_ was published by Cousin, _Ouvrages inédits -d'Abélard_ (Paris, 1836). For a thorough exposition of Abaelard's logic -see Prantl, _Ges. der Logik_, ii. p. 160 _sqq._ - -[463] _I.e._ as positive, comparative, and superlative. - -[464] Cousin, _Ouvr. inédits_, p. 175. Cf. Aristotle's _Categories_, ii. -v. 20. The opening of _Pars tertia_ of Abaelard's _Dialectica_ (in -Cousin's edition, p. 324 _sqq._) affords an interesting example of this -logical analysis and reconstruction of statement, which seems to originate -in sheer grammar, and then advance beyond it. - -[465] Cousin, _o.c._ pp. 190, 192. - -[466] Cousin, _o.c._ p. 331. - -[467] Prantl's _Geschichte der Logik_, vol. ii., contains an exhaustive -discussion of the various phases of this controversy: its language is -little less difficult than that of the twelfth-century word-twisters. - -[468] Cousin, _o.c._ pp. 434, 435. - -[469] _Theologia Christiana_, iv. (Migne 178, col. 1284). - -[470] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 178, col. 1641. - -[471] _Ante_, p. 292. - -[472] _Scito te ipsum_, cap. 13 (Migne 178, col. 653). - -[473] _Scito te ipsum_, cap. 19 (Migne 178, col. 664). - -[474] Migne 178, col. 1615. - -[475] _Ante_, pp. 304 _sqq._ - -[476] This has been published by Stölzle: _Abaelards 1121 zu Soissons -verurteilter Tractatus de Unitate et Trinitate divina_ (1891). - -[477] Migne 178, col. 1123-1330; Cousin and Jourdain, _P. Abaelardi -opera_, ii. pp. 357-566 (1859). - -[478] Migne 178, col. 979-1114; Cousin and Jourdain, _o.c._ pp. 1-149. - -[479] _Ante_, Chapter XXXV., I. - -[480] Bernard, _Ep._ 338 (Migne 182, col. 542). - -[481] Whose sacramental theory of the Creation has already been given at -length, _ante_, Chapter XXVIII. For the incidents of Hugo's life see the -same chapter. Bibliography, note to page 61. See also Ostler, "Die -Psychologie des Hugo von St. Viktor" (Baeumker's _Beiträge_, Münster, -1906). - -[482] _De script._ cap. 2 (Migne 175, col. 11). - -[483] _De script._ cap. 2 (Migne 175, col. 10). - -[484] _Summa sententiarum_ (Migne 176, col. 42-174); also under title of -_Tractatus theologicus_, wrongly ascribed to Hildebert of Lavardin, in -Migne 171, col. 1067-1150. - -[485] Migne 176, col. 740-838. - -[486] I think of no previous work so closely resembling the _Erud. didas._ -as the _Institutiones divinarum et saecularum lectionum_ of Cassiodorus. - -[487] _Erud. did._ i. 2. - -[488] Here one sees the source of much that we quoted from Vincent de -Beauvais, _ante_, Chapter XXXV., 1. - -[489] Lib. iii. cap. 13 _sqq._ - -[490] _Erud. did._ iii. cap. 20. Cf. _ante_, p. 63. - -[491] _Ante_, Chapter XXVIII. - -[492] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 175, col. 115 _sqq._ - -[493] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 175, col. 923 _sqq._ - -[494] The following consideration of the mysticism of Christian -theologians is not intended to include other forms of "mysticism" -(Pantheistic, poetical, pathological, neurotic, intellectual, and -sensuous) within or without the Christian pale. - -[495] _Ante_, p. 42 _sqq._ - -[496] _Ante_, Chapter XXVIII. - -[497] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 176, col. 617-680. - -[498] _De arca Noe morali_, i. cap. 2 (Migne 176, col. 621). - -[499] Migne 176, col. 681-703. With Hugo's pupil, Richard of St. Victor, -this constant allegory, especially the constant allegorical use of -Scripture names, becomes pedantic, _precieux_, impossible. See _e.g._ his -_Benjamin major_ in Migne 196, col. 64-202. - -[500] _De arrha animae_, Migne 176, col. 951-970. - -[501] Migne 182, col. 727-808. A translation is announced by George Lewis -in the Oxford Library of Translations. - -[502] _De consid._ lib. ii. cap. 2. - -[503] Migne 183, col. 789 _sqq._ Chapter XVII., _ante_, is devoted to -Bernard, and his letters and sermons. - -[504] Ed. by Willner (Baeumker's _Beiträge_, Münster, 1903). - -[505] See _ante_, Chapter XXX., 1. - -[506] Bernardus Silvestris, _De mundi universitate_, i. 2 (ed. by Barach -and Wrobel; Innsbrück, 1876). As to Bernard Silvestris, see Clerval, -_Écoles de Chartres au moyen âge_, p. 259 _sqq._ and _passim_; also -Hauréau (who confuses him with Bernard of Chartres), _Hist. de la phil. -scholastique_, ii. 407 _sqq._ - -[507] See Hauréau, _Hist. etc._ ii. 447-472; R. L. Poole, _Illustrations -of Mediaeval Thought_, chap. vi. His _Liber de sex principiis_ is printed -in Migne 188, col. 1257-1270. - -[508] Werner, "Die Kosmologie und Naturlehre des scholastischen -Mittelalters, mit specialler Beziehung auf Wilhelm von Conches," -_Sitzungsb. K. Akad., philos. Klasse_, 1873, Bd. lxxv.; Hauréau, _Hist. -etc._ i. 431-446; ibid. _Singularités littéraires, etc._ - -[509] _Ante_, Vol. I., p. 251. - -[510] _Ante_, Chapter XXX., I. - -[511] Under another title, _Moralis philosophia de honesto et utile_, it -has been ascribed to Hildebert of Lavardin, Migne 171, col. 1007-1056. - -[512] For examples of John's Latin, see _ante_, p. 173. - -[513] See _e.g._ his treatment of logic in Lib. III. and IV. of the -_Metalogicus_ (Migne 199). - -[514] _Polycraticus_, ii. 19-21 _sqq._ There is now a critical edition of -this work by C. C. J. Webb (_Joannis Saresberiensis Policratici libri -VIII._; Clarendon Press, 1910). - -[515] _Polycraticus_, lib. vii., is devoted to a history of antique -philosophy. - -[516] _Polycraticus_, vii. cap. 10. - -[517] _Polycrat._ vii. cap. 11. - -[518] Migne 199, col. 955. - -[519] _Ante_, Chapter XXIX., 11. and XXXII., 1. - -[520] The works of Alanus are collected in Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 210. What -follows in the text is much indebted to M. Baumgartner, "Die Philosophie -des Alanus de Insulis" (Baeumker's _Beiträge_, Münster, 1896). - -[521] All this is thoroughly done by Baumgartner, _o.c._ - -[522] See Baumgartner, p. 76 _sqq._ and citations. - -[523] What I have felt obliged to say upon the organization of mediaeval -Universities, I have largely drawn from Rashdall's _Universities of Europe -in the Middle Ages_ (Oxford, 1895). The subject is too large and complex -for independent investigation, except of the most lengthy and thorough -character. Extracts from illustrative mediaeval documents, with -considerable information touching mediaeval Universities, are brought -together by Arthur O. Norton in his _Mediaeval Universities_ (Readings in -the History of Education, Harvard University, 1909). For the Paris -University, the most important source is the _Chartularium Universitatis -Parisiensis_, ed. by Denifle and Chatelain (1889-1891). See also Ch. -Thurot, _L'Organisation de l'enseignement dans l'Université de Paris_ -(Paris, 1850), and Denifle, _Die Universitäten des Mittelalters_ (Berlin, -1885). - -[524] What has been said applies to the Bologna Law University. That had -been preceded by a school of Arts, and later there grew up a flourishing -school of Medicine, where surgery was also taught. These schools became -affiliated Universities, but never equalled the Law University in -importance. - -[525] The Masters who taught were called _Regentes_. - -[526] Both civil and canon law were studied till 1219, when a Bull of -Honorius III. forbade the study of the former at Paris. - -[527] See _post_, p. 399. - -[528] Mr. Rashdall's. - -[529] Rashdall, _o.c._ ii. p. 341. - -[530] Oxford lay in the diocese of Lincoln. - -[531] For the course of medicine and the list of books studied or lectured -on, especially at Montpellier, from which we have the most complete list, -see Rashdall, ii. p. 118 _sqq._ and _ibid._ p. 780. In _Harvard Studies in -Classical Philology_, vol. xx., 1909, C. H. Haskins publishes An -unpublished List of Text-books, belonging to the close of the twelfth -century, when classical studies had not as yet been overshadowed by -Dialectic. See also, generally, Paetow, _The Arts Course at Medieval -Universities_ (Univ. of Illinois, 1910). - -[532] See generally, Carra de Vaux, _Avicenne_ (Paris, 1900); also -_Gazali_, by the same author. - -[533] Whoever will read the two monographs of the Baron Carra de Vaux, -_Avicenne_ and _Gazali_, will be struck by the closely analogous courses -of Moslem and Christian thought; each showing the parallel phases of -scholastic rationalism (reliant upon reason and rational authority) and -scholastic theological piety, or mysticism (reliant upon the authority of -Revelation and sceptical as to the validity of human reason). - -[534] See for this matter Mandonnet, O.P., _Aristote et la mouvement -intellectuel du moyen âge_, contained in his _Siger de Brabant_, and -printed separately; De Wulf, _History of Medieval Philosophy_, 3rd ed., -pp. 243-253 and authorities; C. Marchesi, _L' Etica Nicomachea nella -tradizione medievale_ (Messina, 1904). - -[535] _Ante_, Chapter V. - -[536] _Constitutiones des Prediger-Ordens vom Jahre 1228_, Prologus; H. -Denifle, _Archiv für Litt. und Kirchenges. des Mittelalters_, Bd i. -(1885), p. 194. - -[537] See Felder, _Wissenschaftlichen Studien im Franciskanerorden_, p. 24 -(Freiburg im Breisgau, 1904); a valuable work. - -[538] See Felder, _o.c._ p. 29. - -[539] _Constitutiones, etc._, cap. 28-31. - -[540] Cf. Felder, _o.c._ p. 107 _sqq._ - -[541] Cf. Felder, _o.c._ p. 177 _sqq._ - -[542] From Denifle, _Universitäten des Mittelalters_, i. 99, note 192. - -[543] See generally, Mandonnet, _Siger de Brabant et l'averroisme latin au -moyen âge_ (Fribourg, Switzerland, 1899); Baeumker (_Beiträge_, 1898), -_Die Impossibilia des Siger von Brabant_; De Wulf, _Hist. of Medieval -Philosophy_, 3rd ed., p. 379 _sqq._ (Longmans, 1909). - -[544] Albert was born probably in 1193, and died in 1280; Bacon was born -some twenty years later, and died about 1292. Bonaventura was born in -1221, and Thomas in 1225 or 1227; they both died in 1274. - -[545] So Raphael represents them in his "School of Athens." - -[546] Bonaventura, _Sermo IV._, Quaracchi edition, tome v. p. 572 (cited -by De Wulf, _Hist. etc._ p. 304, note). With all their -Augustinian-Platonism, the Franciscans made a good second to the -Dominicans in the study of Aristotle, as is proved by the great number of -commentaries upon his works by members of the former Order. See Felder, -_o.c._ p. 479. - -[547] _Epist. de tribus quaestionibus_, § 12. - -[548] Tome v. (Quaracchi ed.) pp. 319-325. - -[549] This is from § 26, the last in the work. Bonaventura has already -said (§ 7): "Omnes istae cognitiones ad cognitionem Sacrae Scripturae -ordinantur, in ea clauduntur et in illa perficiuntur, et mediante illa ad -aeternam illuminationem ordinantur." ("All kinds of knowledge are ordained -for the knowledge of Holy Scripture, are in it enclosed and thereby are -perfected; and through its mediation are ordered for eternal -illumination.") - -[550] It is contained in tomes i.-iv. of the Quaracchi edition. - -[551] T. v. pp. 201-291. - -[552] _Breviloquium_, Prologus. - -[553] One feels the reality of Bonaventura's distinctions here between -theology and philosophy. They are enunciations of his religious sense, and -possess a stronger validity than any elaborate attempt to distinguish by -argument between the two. Thomas distinguishes them with excellent -reasoning. It lacks convincingness perhaps from the fact that Thomas's -theology is so largely philosophy, as Roger Bacon said. - -[554] As this chapter opens a _pars_, it begins with a recapitulation of -what has preceded and a summary of what is to come. The specific topic of -the chapter commences here. - -[555] _I.e._ the desiderative, rational, and irascible elements in man. - -[556] Bonaventura closely follows Hugo of St. Victor's _De sacramentis_, -see _ante_, Chap. XXVIII., especially p. 72. - -[557] _Opera_, t. v. pp. 295-313. - -[558] _Vir desideriorum_, Dan. ix. 23 (Vulgate). - -[559] The _Breviloquium_ and _Itinerarium_ are conveniently edited by -Hefele in a little volume (Tübingen, 1861). - -[560] Albertus, _Metaphysicorum libri XIII._, lib. i. tract. 1, cap. 4. - -[561] _Physic._ lib. viii. tract. 1, cap. 14. - -[562] _Poster. Analyt._ lib. i. tract. 1, cap. 1. This and the previous -citation are from Mandonnet's _Siger de Brabant_. - -[563] _Ethic._ lib. vi. tract. 2, cap. 25. - -[564] Carus, _Ges. der Zoologie_, p. 231. - -[565] Ernst Meyer, _Ges. der Botanik_, Bd. iv. p. 77. - -[566] The works of Albertus were edited by the Dominican Jammy in -twenty-one volumes (Lyons, 1651); they are reprinted by Borgnet (Paris, -1890 _et seq._). My references to volumes follow Jammy's edition. - -[567] See _ante_, pp. 314 _sqq._ - -[568] Prantl, _Ges. der Logik_, iii. 89 _sqq._, calls him an "unklarer -Kopf," incapable of consistent thinking. - -[569] This is the view of A. Schneider, _Die Psychologie Alberts des -Grossen_ (Baeumker's _Beiträge_, Münster, 1903). The author presents -analytically the disparate elements--Aristotelian, Neo-Platonic, and -theological-Augustinian, which are found in Albert's writings. - -[570] See Endriss, _Albertus Magnus als Interpret der Aristotelischen -Metaphysik_ (Munich, 1886). - -[571] The above is mainly drawn from E. Meyer's _Ges. der Botanik_, Bd. -iv. pp. 38-78. - -[572] _Ante_, Volume I. p. 76. - -[573] See Carus, _Geschichte der Zoologie_, pp. 211-239. - -[574] _Sum. theol. pars prima_, tract. I, quaest. ii. - -[575] _Ante_, Chapter XXXV., I. - -[576] Tome xx. p. 41_a_. - -[577] The _Vita_ of Thomas by Guilielmus de Thoco, _Acta sanctorum_, -Martius, tome i. folio 657 _sqq._ (March 7), is wretchedly confused. - -[578] _Vita_, cap. iii. § 15. - -[579] One may see the truth of this by comparing the treatment of a matter -in Albert's _Summa theologiae_ with the corresponding sections in Thomas. -For example, compare Albert's _Summa theol. prima_, Tract. vii. Quaest. -xxx.-xxxiii., on _generatio_, _processio_, _missio_ of the divine persons, -with Thomas, _Sum. theol. prima_, Quaest. xxvii. and xliii. - -[580] John of Damascus, an important Greek theologian of the eighth -century, often cited by Thomas. - -[581] Quaestiones are the larger divisions of the argument. - -[582] _Pars prima_, Qu. xvi. Art. 3. - -[583] _Pars prima_, Qu. lxxxii. Art. 3. - -[584] _Prima sec._ Qu. iv. Art. 2. - -[585] _Prima sec._ Qu. iv. Art. 3. - -[586] _Sum. Phil. contra Gentiles_, iii. 37. - -[587] One cannot avoid applying the masculine pronouns to God, and to the -angels also. But, of course, this is a mere convenience of speech. Thomas -ascribes no sex either to God or the angels. - -[588] It will, of course, be borne in mind, that Thomas's use of _videre_ -and _visio_ to express man's perception of God's essential nature, does -not mean a physical but an intellectual seeing. - -[589] Given _ante_, pp. 290 _sqq._ - -[590] _Secundum quod est in actu_, _i.e._ in realized actuality as -distinguished from potentiality (Aristotelian conceptions). - -[591] The foregoing is taken from the thirteen _articuli_ into which -Quaestio xii. is divided. - -[592] _Pars prima_, Quaestio xxxii. Art. 1. - -[593] _Quaestiones disputatae: De Veritate_, x. 6. Citing Rom. i. 20. - -[594] Prooemium to Qu. xiv. _Pars prima_. - -[595] Qu. xiv. Art. 2--a point which Thomas reasons out in interesting -scholastic Aristotelian fashion, but in language too technical to -translate. - -[596] _Pars prima_, Qu. xiv. Art. 11. - -[597] _Pars prima_, Qu. xv. Art. 1-3. - -[598] _Pars prima_, Qu. xxvi. Art. 2. - -[599] _Pars prima_, Qu. xliv. Art. 3. - -[600] _Pars prima_, Qu. xlv. Art. 1. - -[601] _Summa theol. pars prima_, Qu. l. As heretofore, I follow the -exposition of the _Summa theologiae_. But Thomas began a large and almost -historical treatment of angels in his unfinished _Tract. de substantiis -separatis, seu de Angelorum natura_ (unfinished, in _Opuscula theol._). He -has another and important tractatus, _De cognitione Angelorum, Quaestiones -disput. de veritate_, viii. - -[602] _Pars prima_, Qu. l. Art. 1. Thomas goes on to contradict Aristotle, -in holding _quod nullum ens esset nisi corpus_. - -[603] All that has been given concerning the knowledge of angels relates -to what they know through their own natures as created. Further -enlightenment (as with men) comes through grace as soon as they become -_beati_ through turning to good. _Pars prima_, Qu. lxii. Art. 1 _sqq._ - -[604] _Ante_, Chapter XXXV., 1. - -[605] A burning controversy between the Averroists and the orthodox -schoolmen. - -[606] This is the substance of Qu. lxxxix. Art. 1. - -[607] _Pars prima_, Qu. xix. Art. 1. - -[608] _Pars prima_, Qu. lxxxii. and lxxxiii. - -[609] _Pars prima_, Qu. xx. 1. - -[610] _Summa theol._, _Pars secunda secundae_, Qu. xvii. Art 8. - -[611] _Pars secunda secundae_, Qu. xxiv. Art. 8. - -[612] _Pars secunda secundae_, Qu. xxvi. Art. 4 and 5. - -[613] _Pars prima secundae_, Qu. cix. _sqq._ - -[614] Another reading is _delectatio_, _i.e._ enjoyment. - -[615] Bacon's _Opus majus_ was edited in incomplete form by Jebb in 1733, -and reprinted in 1750 at Venice. This edition is superseded by that of -Bridges, in two volumes, published with the _Moralis philosophia_ and -_Multiplicatio specierum_ by the Clarendon Press in 1897. The text of this -edition had many errors, which have been corrected by a third volume -published in 1900 by Williams and Norgate, who are now the publishers of -the three volumes. In 1859 Brewer edited the _Opus tertium_, the _Opus -minus_, and _Compendium philosophiae_ for the Master of the Rolls Series. - -"An unpublished Fragment of a work by Roger Bacon" was discovered by F. A. -Gasquet in the Vatican Library, and published in the _English Historical -Review_ for July 1897. It appears to be a letter to Clement IV., written -in 1267. - -In 1861 appeared the excellent monograph by Émile Charles, entitled _Roger -Bacon, sa vie, ses ouvrages, ses doctrines_. To this one still must turn -for extracts from the _Compendium theologiae_, and the _Communia -naturalium_. The last-named work, with the _Compendium philosophiae_ and -the _Multiplicatio specierum_ (which appears not to be an intrinsic part -of the _Opus majus_), may have been composed as parts of what was to be -the writer's _Opus principale_. Bacon's _Greek Grammar_ has been edited by -Nolan and Hirsch (Cambridge, 1902). - -[616] _Opus tertium_, chap. xxv. p. 91 (Brewer's text). - -[617] _Opus tertium_, chap. xvii. (pp. 58-59, Brewer's ed.). - -[618] Brewer, _R. Bacon, Opera inedita_, p. 1. - -[619] _Opus tertium_, pp. 7 and 8. - -[620] In _Opus tertium_, chap. iii. (Brewer, p. 15), Bacon plainly tells -the pope the difficulties in which he had been placed by this injunction -of secrecy: "The first cause of delay came through those who are over me. -Since you have written nothing to them in my excuse, and I could not -reveal to them your secret, they insisted with unspeakable violence that I -should obey their will; but I refused, because of the bond of your -mandate, which bound me to your work, notwithstanding any order from my -prelates. And, of a surety, as I was not excused by you, I met with -obstacles too great and many to enumerate.... And another obstacle, enough -to defeat the whole business, was the lack of funds." - -[621] These are, of course, the _Opus majus_, the _Opus minus_, and the -_Opus tertium_; also the _Vatican Fragment_, the position of which is not -quite clear; but it is part of the writings of this year, and constitutes -apparently the introductory letter to Clement. - -[622] The authority for this is the _Chronica XXIV., Generalium Ordinis -Minorum_; see Bridges, vol. iii. p. 158. - -[623] See _Op. tertium_, p. 26 _sqq._ (Brewer). - -[624] _Opus majus_, pars ii. end of chap. v. and beginning of chap. vi. -(Bridges, iii. p. 49); see _Op. tertium_ (Brewer), p. 81. - -[625] _Op. maj._ pars ii. chap. xv. (Bridges, iii. p. 71). - -[626] _Op. tertium_, p. 39. - -[627] _Op. maj._ pars ii. (Bridges, iii. pp. 69-70). Cf. _ante_, p. 180. - -[628] The reference seems to be to the _Ethics_ and _Politics_. - -[629] _Compendium studii_, p. 424 (Brewer). - -[630] _Op. tertium_, p. 14. - -[631] _Op. tertium_, p. 30. - -[632] _Compendium studii phil._, p. 429 (Brewer). - -[633] _Ibid._ p. 398--written in 1271. - -[634] I follow the paging of Bridges, vol. iii. These four causes of error -are also given in _Opus tertium_, p. 69, _Compendium studii_, p. 414 -(Brewer), and the Gasquet _Fragment_, p. 504. - -[635] _Op. maj._ pp. 2 and 3. - -[636] P. 322 _sqq._ (Brewer). - -[637] _Opus tertium_, p. 102. - -[638] _Ante_, p. 128. - -[639] As, _e.g._ where he says that it would have been better for the -Latins "that the wisdom of Aristotle should not have been translated, than -to have been translated with such perverseness and obscurity." _Compend. -studii_, p. 469, (Brewer). - -[640] See _Opus majus_, pars iii. - -[641] _Opus majus_, Bridges, vol. i. p. 106. - -[642] Commonly called "mathematica." - -[643] _Opus majus_ (Bridges, i. p. 253). Bacon goes into this matter -elaborately. - -[644] Cf. S. Vogl, _Die Physik Roger Bacos_ (Erlangen, 1906). Gives -Bacon's sources. - -[645] _Opus minus_, pp. 367-371. - -[646] _Opus majus_, pars v. dist. iii. (Bridges, ii. p. 159 _sqq._). - -[647] A contemporary of Bacon named Witelo composed a _Perspectiva_ about -1270, following an Arab source; and a few years later a Dominican, -Theodoric of Freiburg, was devoted to optics, and wrote on light, colour, -and the rainbow. Baeumker, "Witelo, ein Philosoph und Naturforscher des -XIII. Jahrh." (_Beiträge, etc._, Münster, 1908); Krebs, "Meister Dietrich, -sein Leben, etc." (Baeumker's _Beiträge_, 1906). - -[648] With Bacon, _experientia_ does not always mean observation; and may -mean either experience or experiment. - -[649] See Charles, _Roger Bacon_, pp. 17-18. - -[650] _Ante_, pp. 313-315. Duns Scotus puts clearly the double aspect of -logic, which Albertus Magnus approached: "It should be understood that -logic is to be considered in two ways. First, in so far as it is _docens_ -(instructs, holds its own school): and from its own necessary and proper -principles proceeds to necessary conclusions, and is therefore a science. -Secondly, in so far as we use it, by applying it to those matters in which -it is used: and then it is not a science" (_Super universalia Porphyrii_, -Quaestrio i., Duns Scotus, _Opera_, t. i. p. 51). - -[651] The two aspects of the experimental science appear in the following -statement from the Gasquet _Fragment_: "The _antepenultima_ science is -called experimental; and is the mistress of those which precede it; for it -excels the others in three chief prerogatives. One is that all the -sciences except this either use arguments alone to prove their -conclusions, like the purely speculative sciences, or possess general and -imperfect experiences. But only the perfect experience (_experientia -perfecta_, _i.e._ the scientific experiment or observation), sets the mind -at rest in the light of truth; which is certain and is proved in that part -[of my work]. Wherefore it was necessary that there should be one science -which should certify for us, all the magnificent truths of the other -sciences, through the truth of experience, and this is that whereof I say -that it is called _scientia experimentalis_ of its own right from the -truth of experience (_per autonomasiam ab experienciae veritate_); and I -show by the illustration of the rainbow and other things, how this -prerogative is reserved to that science. - -"The second prerogative is the dignity which relates to those chief truths -which, although they are to be formulated (_nominandae_) in the terms -(_vocabulis_) of the other sciences, yet the other sciences cannot furnish -(_procurare_) them; and of this character are the prolongation of life -through remedies to counteract the lack of a hygienic regimen from -infancy, or constitutional debility inherited from parents who have not -followed such a regimen. I shall show how it is possible thus to prolong -life to the term set by God. But men, through neglecting the rules of -health, pass quickly to old age, and die before reaching that term. The -art of medicine is not able to furnish (_dare_) these remedies, nor does -it; but it says they are possible (_sed fatetur ea possibilia_), and so -experimental science has devised remedies known to the wisest men alone, -by which the ills of old age are delayed, or are mitigated when they -arrive. - -"The third prerogative of this science belongs to it _secundum se et -absolute_; for here it leaves the two ways already touched on, and -addresses itself to all things which do not concern the other sciences, -save that often it requires the service of the others. As a mistress it -commands the others as servants ... and orders them to do its work, and -furnish the wise instruments which it uses; as navigation directs the art -of carpentry, to make a ship for it; and the military art directs the -forger's art to make it a breastplate and other arms. In like manner, this -science [the experimental], as a mistress, directs geometry to make it a -burning-glass, which shall set on fire things near or far, one of the most -sublime wonders that can come to pass through geometry. So it commands the -other sciences in all the wonderful and hidden things of nature and art" -(pp. 510-511). - -[652] _Opus tertium_, chap. xxviii. - -[653] _Opus majus_, pars vi. 1 (Bridges, ii. p. 169). - -[654] _Ibid._ p. 171. Doubtless the meaning of the above is connected with -Bacon's view of the Aristotelian _intellectus agens_, which he takes to -signify the direct illumination of the mind of man by God. "All the wisdom -of philosophy is revealed by God and given to the philosophers, and it is -Himself that illuminates the minds of men in all wisdom. That which -illuminates our minds is now called by the theologians _intellectus -agens_. But my position is that this _intellectus agens_ is God -_principaliter_, and secondarily, the angels, who illuminate us" (_Opus -tertium_, p. 74; cf. _Op. majus_, pars i. chap. v.). - -[655] _Compendium studii_ (Brewer), p. 397. - -[656] _De secretis operibus artis et naturae, et de nullitate magiae_, p. -533 (Brewer). Cf. Charles, _Roger Bacon_, p. 296 _sqq._ - -[657] The most convenient edition of the works of Joannes Duns Scotus is -that published by Vives, at Paris (1891 _sqq._) in twenty-six volumes. It -is little more than a reprint of Wadding's Edition. - -[658] See Seeberg, _Die Theologie des Johannes Duns Scotus_ (Leipzig, -1900), p. 8 _sqq._, a work to which the following pages owe much. - -[659] Grosseteste's philosophical or theological works are still -unpublished or very difficult of access; and there is no sufficient -exposition of his doctrines. - -[660] Seeberg, _o.c._ p. 16 _sqq._ - -[661] See De Wulf, _History of Medieval Philosophy_, p. 363 _sqq._ - -[662] See Seeberg, _o.c._ p. 34 _sqq._ - -[663] The kernel of Duns's proof is contained in the following passage, -which is rather simple in its Scotian Latin: "Dicendum, quod Universale -est ens, quia sub ratione non entis, nihil intelligitur: quia -intelligibile movet intellectum. Cum enim intellectus sit virtus passiva -(per Aristotelem 3, de Anima, cont. 5 et inde saepe), non operatur, nisi -moveatur ab objecto; non ens non potest movere aliquid ut objectum; quia -movere est entis in actu; ergo nihil intelligitur sub ratione non entis. -Quidquid autem intelligitur, intelligitur sub ratione Universalis: ergo -illa ratio non est omnino non ens" (_Super universalia Porphyrii_, -Quaestio iv.). - -[664] Cf. the far from clear exposition in Seeberg, _o.c._ p. 86 _sqq._ -and 660 _sqq._ - -[665] _Miscell. quaest._ 6, 18, cited by Seeberg, _o.c._ p. 114. - -[666] The last two or three pages have been drawn mainly from Seeberg, -_o.c._ p. 113 _sqq._ In discussing Duns Scotus, I have given less from his -writings than has been my wont with other philosophers. And for two -reasons. The first, as I frankly avow, is that I have read less of him -than I have of his predecessors. With the exception of such a curious -treatise as the (doubtful) Grammatica _speculativa_ (tome i. of the Paris -edition); and the elementary, and comparatively lucid, _De rerum -principio_ (tome iv. of the Paris edition)--with these exceptions Duns is -to me unreadable. My second reason for omitting excerpts from his -writings, is that I wished neither to misrepresent their quality, nor to -cause my reader to lay down my book, which is heavy enough anyhow! If I -selected lucid and simple extracts, they would give no idea of the -intricacy and prolixity of Duns. His commentary on the _Sentences_ fills -thirteen tomes of the Paris edition! No short and simple extract will -illustrate _that_! On the other hand, I could not bring myself by lengthy -or impossible quotations to vilify Duns. It is unjust to expose a man's -worst features, nakedly and alone, to those who do not know his better -side and the conditions which partly explain the rest of him. - -[667] _Quodlibetalia_, i. Qu. 14, cited by De Wulf, _o.c._ p. 422. - -[668] _Expos. aurea_, cited by De Wulf, _o.c._ p. 423, whose exposition of -Occam's theory I have followed here. - -[669] On Occam, see Seeberg's article in Hauck's _Encyclopaedia_; Siebeck, -"Occams Erkenntnislehre, etc.," in _Archiv für Ges. der Philosophie_, Bd. -x., Neue Folge (1897). - -[670] Quoted by Seeberg. - -[671] De Wulf, _o.c._ p. 425. - -[672] In view of the enormous literature upon Dante, popular as well as -learned, it would be absurd to give any bibliographical, biographical or -historical information as to his works, himself, or his Italian -circumstances. - -[673] _De mon._ ii. 3. - -[674] _De mon._ ii. chaps. 4, 10, 12. - -[675] _De mon._ iii. 4 _sqq._ - -[676] All this seems supported by _Conv._ i. 1, and ii. 13, the main -explanatory chapters of the work. - -[677] _Conv._ iii. 12. - -[678] e.g. "_benigna volontade_," _Par._ xv. 1. - -[679] Cf. A. d'Ancona, _I Precursori di Dante_ (Florence, 1874); M. Dods, -_Forerunners of Dante_ (Edinburgh, 1903); A. J. Butler, _Forerunners of -Dante_ (Oxford, 1910); Hettinger, _Göttliche Komödie_, p. 79 (2nd ed., -Freiburg im Breisgau, 1889). Mussafia, "Monumenti antichi di dialetti -italiani," _Sitzungsber. philos. hist. Classe_ (Vienna Academy), vol. 45, -1864, p. 136 _sqq._, gives two old Italian _descriptions_, one of the -heavenly Jerusalem, the other of the infernal Babylon. - -[680] 2 Cor. xii. 2; _Paradiso_, i. 73-75. - -[681] _Ante_, Chapter XIX. - -[682] _Ante_, pp. 98-100. - -[683] The coarseness of _Inf._ xxi. 137-139 is of a piece with the way of -mediaeval art in making demons horrible through a grotesquely indecent -rendering of their persons. - -[684] e.g. _Inf._ xviii. 100 _sqq._; and _Inf._ xxviii. and xxix. - -[685] _Inf._ viii. 37 _sqq._; xxxii. 97 _sqq._; xxxiii. 116 and 149. - -[686] Cf. Moore, _Dante Studies_, vol. ii. pp. 266-267. - -[687] Any one who looks through the first volume of Tiraboschi's great -_Storia della letteratura italiana_, written in the early part of the -nineteenth century, will find a generous acceptance of myth as fact; just -as he would find the same in the _Histoire ancienne_ of the good Rollin, -written a century or more before. - -[688] Dante has frequently been spoken of as the "first scholar" of his -time. I do not myself know enough regarding the scholarship of every -scholar in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries to confirm or deny -this. Personally, I do not regard him as a Titanic scholar, like Albertus -Magnus for example. He studied all the classic Latin authors available. -Doubtless he had a memory corresponding to his other extraordinary powers. -His also was the intellectual point of view, and the intellectual interest -in knowledge and its deductions. His view of life was as intellectual as -that of Aquinas. But as Dante's powers of plastic visualization were -unequalled, so also, it seems to me, were his faculties of using as a poet -what he had acquired as a scholar. Regarding the extent of Dante's use and -reading of the Classics, nothing could be added to Dr. Moore's _Studies in -Dante_, First Series; though I think what Dr. Moore has to say of "Dante -and Aristotle" would have cast a more direct light upon the matter, had he -cited as far as possible from the Latin translation probably used by -Dante, instead of from the original Greek. - -[689] _Inf._ iv. 88. Cf. Moore, _Studies in Dante_, i. p. 6. The -application of the term _satirist_ to Horace is peculiarly mediaeval. - -[690] _Inf._ iv. 131. - -[691] _Inf._ ii. 20. - -[692] _Par._ xx. 68. - -[693] _Purg._ xxv. 22. - -[694] _Inf._ xviii. 83 _sqq._ - -[695] _Inf._ xxvi. 88 _sqq._ - -[696] _Purg._ xii. - -[697] _Purg._ xv. - -[698] According to Dr. Moore, Dante quotes or refers to the "Vulgate more -than 500 times, to Aristotle more than 300, Virgil about 200, Ovid about -100, Cicero and Lucan about 50 each, Statius and Boëthius between 30 and -40 each, Horace, Livy, and Orosius between 10 and 20 each,"--and other -scattering references. - -[699] _Inf._ xxxiii. 4; _Aen._ ii. 3. - -[700] _Par._ ii. 16. - -[701] _Aen._ vi. 309; _Inf._ iii. 112. - -[702] _Aen._ vi. 700; _Purg._ ii. 80. - -[703] _Purg._ i. 135; cf. _Aen._ vi. 143 "Primo avulso non deficit alter, -etc." - -[704] See _Inf._ xxxi.; _Purg._ xii. 25 _sqq._ - -[705] _Purg._ vi. 118: "O highest Jove that wast on earth crucified for -us." - -[706] _Par._ i. 13 _sqq._; _Par._ ii. 8. - -[707] The _provenance_, etc., of Dante's classification of sins in the -_Inferno_, like everything else in Dante, has been interminably discussed. -The reference to the _De officiis_ of Cicero is due to Dr. Moore. See -"Classification of Sins in the _Inferno_ and _Purgatorio_," _Studies in -Dante_, 2nd Series. Also cf. Hettinger, _Die göttliche Kömödie_, pp. -159-162, and notes 6 and 23 on p. 204 and 207 (2nd ed., Freiburg in -Breisgau, 1889). Dante's main statement is in _Inf._ xi. - -[708] In whom does not the awful anguish of the suicides (_Inf._ xiii.) -arouse grief and horror? - -[709] _Inf._ xvi. 59. They are more respectable than the blessed denizens -of the Heaven of Venus, _Par._ ix. - -[710] _Inf._ xix. - -[711] _Inf._ vi. 103 _sqq._ - -[712] The intellectual temperament finds voice in many great expressions, -which are very Dante and also very Thomas, as _Par._ xxviii. 106-114; -xxix. 17; xxx. 40-42. - -[713] _Inf._ iii. 18. - -[714] Hettinger, _o.c._ p. 254. - -[715] _Aeneid_ vi. 327 _sqq._; Hettinger, _o.c._ p. 226. - -[716] See Taylor, _Classical Heritage_, p. 162. - -[717] These are pointed out in the Commentaries (_e.g._ Scartazzini's) and -in many monographs. Hettinger's _Göttliche Kömödie_ is serviceable: also -Moore's _Studies in Dante_ and Toynbee's _Dante Studies_. - -[718] _Purg._ i. 71; John viii. 36. - -[719] _Purg._ i. 89. - -[720] _Purg._ iii. 34 _sqq._ - -[721] _Purg._ iv. 4 _sqq._ - -[722] _Purg._ v. 105 _sqq._ - -[723] _Purg._ vii. 54; iv. 133-135. - -[724] Cf. _e.g._ _Purg._ xii. 109. - -[725] _Purg._ xv. 40 _sqq._ - -[726] _Purg._ xvi. 64 _sqq._ - -[727] _Purg._ xvii. 85 _sqq._, and xviii.; Hettinger, _o.c._ p. 235 -_sqq._, and pp. 261-264. - -[728] _Purg._ xxiii. 72; xxvi. 14. - -[729] _Purg._ xxv. The notes in Hettinger, _o.c._, are quite full in -citations of passages from Thomas and other scholastics. - -[730] Thomas, _Summa_, iii. Qu. 89, Art. 5. - -[731] As it is rather in _Par._ xxvii. 76 _sqq._ - -[732] _Par._ iii. 52, 64, 89. - -[733] _Par._ iv. - -[734] _Par._ xi. 1 _sqq._ - -[735] _Par._ xiv. - -[736] _Par._ xv. 10. - -[737] _Par._ xix. 40 _sqq._ - -[738] _Par._ xx. - -[739] _Par._ xxiv.-xxvi. - -[740] Typified in St. Bernard, _Par._ xxxi. and following. Suitable -reasons for this choice may be suggested by the extracts from Bernard's -_De deligendo Deo_ and _Sermons on Canticles_, _ante_, Chapter XVII. - -[741] _Conv._ ii. 13. The symbolism inherent in all human mental processes -seems indicated by the argument of Aquinas (_ante_, p. 466) that the mind -knows "the particular through sense and imagination; ... it must turn -itself to images in order to behold the universal nature existing in the -particular." This is a necessity of our half material nature. - -[742] _Convito_ ii. 1. Letter to Can Grande, par. 7. - -[743] In the Can Grande letter, having stated this fourfold significance, -Dante does _not_ proceed to exemplify it in the interpretation which -follows of the opening lines of the _Paradiso_. Possibly those lines did -not admit of the fourfold interpretation; yet, in general, Dante does not -try to carry it out in practice, any more than other mediaeval writers -commonly. - -[744] _Convito_ ii. ch. 14 and 15. - -[745] Doubtless the commentator habit is fixed in the nature of man; but -it was pre-eminently mediaeval. We have seen enough elsewhere of the -multiplication of Commentaries on the _Sentences_ of the Lombard and other -scholastic works. Dante's friend, Guido Cavalcanti, wrote a little poem -beginning _Donna mi priego_, upon which we have eight Commentaries, the -first from Egidio Colonna in 1316. - -[746] Yet, however obvious the meaning, tying the pole of the Chariot to -the Tree of Life was a great stroke (_Purg._ xxxii. 49). - -[747] There is a piece of allegory in the _Paradiso_ which almost gets on -one's nerves, _i.e._ the ceaseless whirling of the blessed spirits, -usually in wheel formations: _e.g._ _Par._ xii. 3; xxi. 81; xxiv. 10 -_sqq._: cf. x. 145; xiii. 20. - -[748] One notes that all the symbolizing personages of the poem--Virgil, -Statius, Matilda, Lia, Beatrice--have literal reality, however subtle or -far-reaching may be the allegorical intendment with which the poet has -invested them. - -[749] See _e.g._ _Par._ xxxi. 67. - -[750] Cf. De Sanctis, _Storia della letteratura italiana_, i. p. 46 _sqq._ - -[751] Compare _Purg._ xxvii. 34 _sqq._; xxx.; xxxi.; _Par._ xviii. 13 -_sqq._; xxiii.; xxx.; xxxi.; xxxii. 8. - - - - -WORKS ON PHILOSOPHY - - -THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS. By EDWARD WESTERMARCK, -Ph.D. Two vols. 8vo. 14s. net each. - -A SHORT HISTORY OF ETHICS. By REGINALD A. P. ROGERS, Fellow and Tutor of -Trinity College, Dublin. Crown 8vo. [_Spring_, 1911. - -THE PHILOSOPHY OF GASSENDI. By G. S. BRETT. 8vo. 10s. net. - -HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. With Especial Reference to the Formation and -Development of its Problems and Conceptions. By Dr. W. WINDELBAND. -Translated by J. H. TUFTS. 8vo. 17s. net. - -HISTORY OF THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. By PAUL JANET and GABRIEL SÉAILLES. -Translated by ADA MONAHAN, and Edited by HENRY JONES, LL.D. Two vols. 8vo. -10s. net. each. - -IDOLA THEATRI: A Criticism of Oxford Thought and Thinkers from the -Standpoint of Personal Idealism. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Mediaeval Mind (Volume II of II) - A History of the Development of Thought and Emotion in the Middle Ages - -Author: Henry Osborn Taylor - -Release Date: October 4, 2013 [EBook #43881] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEDIAEVAL MIND (VOLUME II) *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive.) - - - - - - - - - -THE MEDIAEVAL MIND - - - - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - London . Bombay . Calcutta - Melbourne - - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - New York . Boston . Chicago - Atlanta . San Francisco - - THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. - TORONTO - - - - - THE MEDIAEVAL MIND - - A HISTORY OF THE DEVELOPMENT - OF THOUGHT AND EMOTION - IN THE MIDDLE AGES - - - BY HENRY OSBORN TAYLOR - - - IN TWO VOLUMES - - VOL. II - - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON - 1911 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - BOOK IV - - THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL: SOCIETY (_continued_) - - CHAPTER XXV - - THE HEART OF HELOISE 3 - - CHAPTER XXVI - - GERMAN CONSIDERATIONS: WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE 28 - - - BOOK V - - SYMBOLISM - - CHAPTER XXVII - - SCRIPTURAL ALLEGORIES IN THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES; HONORIUS OF AUTUN 41 - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - THE RATIONALE OF THE VISIBLE WORLD: HUGO OF ST. VICTOR 60 - - CHAPTER XXIX - - CATHEDRAL AND MASS; HYMN AND IMAGINATIVE POEM 76 - - I. Guilelmus Durandus and Vincent of Beauvais. - - II. The Hymns of Adam of St. Victor and the _Anticlaudianus_ - of Alanus of Lille. - - - BOOK VI - - LATINITY AND LAW - - CHAPTER XXX - - THE SPELL OF THE CLASSICS 107 - - I. Classical Reading. - - II. Grammar. - - III. The Effect upon the Mediaeval Man; Hildebert of Lavardin. - - CHAPTER XXXI - - EVOLUTION OF MEDIAEVAL LATIN PROSE 148 - - CHAPTER XXXII - - EVOLUTION OF MEDIAEVAL LATIN VERSE 186 - - I. Metrical Verse. - - II. Substitution of Accent for Quantity. - - III. Sequence-Hymn and Student-Song. - - IV. Passage of Themes into the Vernacular. - - CHAPTER XXXIII - - MEDIAEVAL APPROPRIATION OF THE ROMAN LAW 231 - - I. The Fontes Juris Civilis. - - II. Roman and Barbarian Codification. - - III. The Mediaeval Appropriation. - - IV. Church Law. - - V. Political Theorizing. - - - BOOK VII - - ULTIMATE INTELLECTUAL INTERESTS OF THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES - - CHAPTER XXXIV - - SCHOLASTICISM: SPIRIT, SCOPE, AND METHOD 283 - - CHAPTER XXXV - - CLASSIFICATION OF TOPICS; STAGES OF EVOLUTION 311 - - I. Philosophic Classification of the Sciences; the - Arrangement of Vincent's Encyclopaedia, of the Lombard's - _Sentences_, of Aquinas's _Summa theologiae_. - - II. The Stages of Development: Grammar, Logic, Metalogics. - - CHAPTER XXXVI - - TWELFTH-CENTURY SCHOLASTICISM 338 - - I. The Problem of Universals: Abaelard. - - II. The Mystic Strain: Hugo and Bernard. - - III. The Later Decades: Bernard Silvestris; Gilbert de la - Porree; William of Conches; John of Salisbury, and - Alanus of Lille. - - CHAPTER XXXVII - - THE UNIVERSITIES, ARISTOTLE, AND THE MENDICANTS 378 - - CHAPTER XXXVIII - - BONAVENTURA 402 - - CHAPTER XXXIX - - ALBERTUS MAGNUS 420 - - CHAPTER XL - - THOMAS AQUINAS 433 - - I. Thomas's Conception of Human Beatitude. - - II. Man's Capacity to know God. - - III. How God knows. - - IV. How the Angels know. - - V. How Men know. - - VI. Knowledge through Faith perfected in Love. - - CHAPTER XLI - - ROGER BACON 484 - - CHAPTER XLII - - DUNS SCOTUS AND OCCAM 509 - - CHAPTER XLIII - - THE MEDIAEVAL SYNTHESIS: DANTE 525 - - INDEX 561 - - - - -BOOK IV - -THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL: SOCIETY - -(_Continued_) - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -THE HEART OF HELOISE - - -The romantic growth and imaginative shaping of chivalric love having been -followed in the fortunes of its great exemplars, Tristan, Iseult, -Lancelot, Guinevere, Parzival, a different illustration of mediaeval -passion may be had by turning from these creations of literature to an -actual woman, whose love for a living man was thought out as keenly and as -tragically felt as any heart-break of imagined lovers, and was impressed -with as entire a self-surrender as ever ravished the soul of nun panting -with love of the God-man. - -There has never been a passion between a man and woman more famous than -that which brought happiness and sorrow to the lives of Abaelard and -Heloise. Here fame is just. It was a great love, and its course was a -perfect soul's tragedy. Abaelard was a celebrity, the intellectual glory -of an active-minded epoch. His love-story has done as much for his -posthumous fame as all his intellectual activities. Heloise became known -in her time through her relations with Abaelard; in his songs her name was -wafted far. She has come down to us as one of the world's love-heroines. -Yet few of those who have been touched by her story have known that -Heloise was a great woman, possessed of an admirable mind, a character -which proved its strength through years, and, above all, a capacity for -loving--for loving out to the full conclusions of love's convictions, and -for feeling in their full range and power whatever moods and emotions -could arise from an unhappy situation and a passion as deeply felt as it -was deeply thought upon. - -Abaelard was not a great character--aside from his intellect. He was vain -and inconsiderate, a man who delighted in confounding and supplanting his -teachers, and in being a thorn in the flesh of all opponents. But he -became chastened through his misfortunes and through Heloise's high and -self-sacrificing love. In the end, perhaps, his love was worthy of the -love of Heloise. Yet her love from the beginning was nobler and deeper -than his love of her. Love was for him an incident in his experience, then -an element in his life. Love made the life of Heloise; it remained her -all. Moreover, in the records of their passion, Heloise's love is unveiled -as Abaelard's is not. For all these reasons, the heart of Heloise rather -than the heart of Abaelard discloses the greatness of a love that wept -itself out in the twelfth century, and it is her love rather than his that -can teach us much regarding the mediaeval capacity for loving. Hers is a -story of mediaeval womanhood, and sin, and repentance perhaps, with peace -at last, or at least the lips shut close and further protest foregone. - -Abaelard's stormy intellectual career[1] and the story of the love between -him and the canon's niece are well known. Let us follow him in those parts -of his narrative which disclose the depth and power of Heloise's love for -him. We draw from his _Historia calamitatum_, written "to a friend," -apparently an open letter intended to circulate. - -"There was," writes he, referring to the time of his sojourn in Paris, -when he was about thirty-six years old, and at the height of his fame as a -lecturer in the schools-- - - "There was in Paris a young girl named Heloise, the niece of a canon, - Fulbert. It was his affectionate wish that she should have the best - education in letters that could be procured. Her face was not unfair, - and her knowledge was unequalled. This attainment, so rare in women, - had given her great reputation. - - "I had hitherto lived continently, but now was casting my eyes about, - and I saw that she possessed every attraction that lovers seek; nor - did I regard my success as doubtful, when I considered my fame and my - goodly person, and also her love of letters. Inflamed with love, I - thought how I could best become intimate with her. It occurred to me - to obtain lodgings with her uncle, on the plea that household cares - distracted me from study. Friends quickly brought this about, the old - man being miserly and yet desirous of instruction for his niece. He - eagerly entrusted her to my tutorship, and begged me to give her all - the time I could take from my lectures, authorizing me to see her at - any hour of the day or night, and punish her when necessary. I - marvelled with what simplicity he confided a tender lamb to a hungry - wolf. As he had given me authority to punish her, I saw that if - caresses would not win my object, I could bend her by threats and - blows. Doubtless he was misled by love of his niece and my own good - reputation. Well, what need to say more: we were united first by the - one roof above us, and then by our hearts. Our hours of study were - given to love. The books lay open, but our words were of love rather - than philosophy, there were more kisses than aphorisms; and love was - oftener reflected in our eyes than the lettered page. To avert - suspicion, I struck her occasionally--very gentle blows of love. The - joy of love, new to us both, brought no satiety. The more I was taken - up with this pleasure, the less time I gave to philosophy and the - schools--how tiresome had all that become! I became unproductive, - merely repeating my old lectures, and if I composed any verses, love - was their subject, and not the secrets of philosophy; you know how - popular and widely sung these have become. But the students! what - groans and laments arose from them at my distraction! A passion so - plain was not to be concealed; every one knew of it except Fulbert. A - man is often the last to know of his own shame. Yet what everybody - knows cannot be hid forever, and so after some months he learned all. - Oh how bitter was that uncle's grief! and what was the grief of the - separated lovers! How ashamed I was, and afflicted at the affliction - of the girl! And what a storm of sorrow came over her at my disgrace. - Neither complained for himself, but each grieved at what the other - must endure." - -Although Abaelard was moved at the plight of Heloise, he bitterly felt his -own discomfiture in the eyes of the once admiring world. But the sentence -touching Heloise is a first true note of her devoted love: what a storm of -sorrow (_moeroris aestus_) came over her at my disgrace. Through this -trouble and woe, Heloise never thought of her own pain save as it pained -her to be the source of grief to Abaelard. - -Abaelard continues: - - "The separation of our bodies joined our souls more closely and - inflamed our love. Shame spent itself and made us unashamed, so small - a thing it seemed compared with satisfying love. Not long afterwards - the girl knew that she was to be a mother, and in the greatest - exultation wrote and asked me to advise what she should do. One night, - as we agreed on, when Fulbert was away I bore her off secretly and - sent her to my own country, Brittany, where she stayed with my sister - till she gave birth to a son, whom she named Astralabius. - - "The uncle, on his return to his empty house, was frantic. He did not - know what to do to me. If he should kill or do me some bodily injury, - he feared lest his niece, whom he loved, would suffer for it among my - people in Brittany. He could not seize me, as I was prepared against - all attempts. At length, pitying his anguish, and feeling remorse at - having caused it, I went to him as a suppliant and promised whatever - satisfaction he should demand. I assured him that nothing in my - conduct would seem remarkable to any one who had felt the strength of - love or would take the pains to recall how many of the greatest men - had been thrown down by women, ever since the world began. Whereupon I - offered him a satisfaction greater than he could have hoped, to wit, - that I would marry her whom I had corrupted, if only the marriage - might be kept secret so that it should not injure me in the minds of - men. He agreed and pledged his faith, and the faith of his friends, - and sealed with kisses the reconciliation which I had sought--so that - he might more easily betray me!" - -It will be remembered that Abaelard was a clerk, a _clericus_, in virtue -of his profession of letters and theology. Never having taken orders, he -could marry; but while a clerk's slip could be forgotten, marriage might -lead people to think he had slighted his vocation, and would certainly bar -the ecclesiastical preferment which such a famous _clericus_ might -naturally look forward to. Nevertheless, he at once set out to fetch -Heloise from Brittany, to make her his wife. - -The stand which she now took shows both her mind and heart: - - "She strongly disapproved, and urged two reasons against the marriage, - to wit, the danger and the disgrace in which it would involve me. She - swore--and so it proved--that no satisfaction would ever appease her - uncle. She asked how she was to have any glory through me when she - should have made me inglorious, and should have humiliated both - herself and me. What penalties would the world exact from her if she - deprived it of such a luminary; what curses, what damage to the - Church, what lamentations of philosophers, would follow on this - marriage. How indecent, how lamentable would it be for a man whom - nature had made for all, to declare that he belonged to one woman, and - subject himself to such shame. From her soul, she detested this - marriage which would be so utterly ignominious for me, and a burden to - me. She expatiated on the disgrace and inconvenience of matrimony for - me and quoted the Apostle Paul exhorting men to shun it. If I would - not take the apostle's advice or listen to what the saints had said - regarding the matrimonial yoke, I should at least pay attention to the - philosophers--to Theophrastus's words upon the intolerable evils of - marriage, and to the refusal of Cicero to take a wife after he had - divorced Terentia, when he said that he could not devote himself to a - wife and philosophy at the same time. 'Or,' she continued, laying - aside the disaccord between study and a wife, 'consider what a married - man's establishment would be to you. What sweet accord there would be - between the schools and domestics, between copyists and cradles, - between books and distaffs, between pen and spindle! Who, engaged in - religious or philosophical meditations, could endure a baby's crying - and the nurse's ditties stilling it, and all the noise of servants? - Could you put up with the dirty ways of children? The rich can, you - say, with their palaces and apartments of all kinds; their wealth does - not feel the expense or the daily care and annoyance. But I say, the - state of the rich is not that of philosophers; nor have men entangled - in riches and affairs any time for the study of Scripture or - philosophy. The renowned philosophers of old, despising the world, - fleeing rather than relinquishing it, forbade themselves all - pleasures, and reposed in the embraces of philosophy.'" - -Speaking thus, Heloise fortified her argument with quotations from Seneca, -and the examples of Jewish and Gentile worthies and Christian saints, and -continued: - - "It is not for me to point out--for I would not be thought to instruct - Minerva--how soberly and continently all these men lived who, - according to Augustine and others, were called philosophers as much - for their way of life as or their knowledge. If laymen and Gentiles, - bound by no profession of religion, lived thus, surely you, a clerk - and canon, should not prefer low pleasures to sacred duties, nor let - yourself be sucked down by this Charybdis and smothered in filth - inextricably. If you do not value the privilege of a clerk, at least - defend the dignity of a philosopher. If reverence for God be despised, - still let love of decency temper immodesty. Remember, Socrates was - tied to a wife, and through a nasty accident wiped out this blot upon - philosophy, that others afterwards might be more cautious; which - Jerome relates in his book against Jovinianus, how once when enduring - a storm of Xanthippe's clamours from the floor above, he was ducked - with slops, and simply said, 'I knew such thunder would bring rain.' - - "Finally she said that it would be dangerous for me to take her back - to Paris; it was more becoming to me, and sweeter to her, to be called - my mistress, so that affection alone might keep me hers and not the - binding power of any matrimonial chain; and if we should be separated - for a time, our joys at meeting would be the dearer for their rarity. - When at last with all her persuasions and dissuasions she could not - turn me from my folly, and could not bear to offend me, with a burst - of tears she ended in these words: 'One thing is left: in the ruin of - us both the grief which follows shall not be less than the love which - went before.' Nor did she here lack the spirit of prophecy." - -Heloise's reasonings show love great and true and her absolute devotion to -Abaelard's interests. None the less striking is her clear intelligence. -She reasoned correctly; she was right, the marriage would do great harm to -Abaelard and little good to her. We see this too, if we lay aside our -sense of the ennobling purity of marriage--a sentiment not commonly felt -in the twelfth century. Marriage was holy in the mind of Christ. But it -did not preserve its holiness through the centuries which saw the rise of -monasticism and priestly celibacy. A way of life is not pure and holy when -another way is holier and purer; this is peculiarly true in Christianity, -which demands the ideal best with such intensity as to cast reflection on -whatever falls below the highest standard. From the time of the barbarian -inroads, on through the Carolingian periods, and into the later Middle -Ages, there was enough barbarism and brutality to prevent the -preservation, or impede the development, of a high standard of marriage. -Not monasticism, but his own half-barbarian, lustful heart led Charlemagne -to marry and remarry at will, and have many mistresses besides. It was the -same with the countless barons and mediaeval kings, rude and half -civilized. This was barbarous lust, not due to the influence of -monasticism. But, on the other hand, it was always the virgin or celibate -state that the Church held before the eyes of all this semi-barbarous -laity as the ideal for a Christian man or woman. The Church sanctioned -marriage, but hardly lauded it or held it up as a condition in which lives -of holiness and purity could be led. Such were the sentiments in which -Heloise was born and bred. They were subconscious factors in her thoughts -regarding herself and her lover. Devoted and unselfish was her love; -undoubtedly Heloise would have sacrificed herself for Abaelard under any -social conditions. Nevertheless, with her, marriage added little to love; -it was a mere formal and binding authorization; love was no purer for it. -To her mind, for a man in Abaelard's situation to be entangled in a -temporary _amour_ was better than to be chained to his passion, with his -career irrevocably ruined, in marriage. In so far as her thoughts or -Abaelard's were influenced by the environment of priestly thinking, -marriage would seem a rendering permanent of a passionate and sinful -state, which it were _best_ to cast off altogether. For herself, as she -said truly, the marriage would bring obloquy rather than reinstatement. -She had been mistress to a clerk; marriage would make her the partner of -his abandonment of his vocation, the accomplice of broken purposes if not -of broken vows. And finally, as there was then no line of disgrace as now -between bastard and lawful issue, Heloise had no thought that the -interests of her son demanded that his mother should become his father's -wife. - - "Leaving our son in my sister's care, we stole back to Paris, and - shortly after, having in the night celebrated our vigils in a certain - church, we were married at dawn in the presence of her uncle and some - of his and our friends. We left at once separately and with secrecy, - and afterwards saw each other only in privacy, so as to conceal what - we had done. But her uncle and his household began at once to announce - the marriage and violate his word; while she, on the contrary, - protested vehemently and swore that it was false. At that he became - enraged and treated her vilely. When I discovered this I sent her to - the convent of Argenteuil, near Paris, where she had been educated. - There I had her take the garb of a nun, except the veil. Hearing this, - the uncle and his relations thought that I had duped them, ridding - myself of Heloise by making her a nun. So having bribed my servant, - they came upon me by night, when I was sleeping, and took on me a - vengeance as cruel and irretrievable as it was vile and shameful. Two - of the perpetrators were pursued and vengeance taken. - - "In the morning the whole town was assembled, crying and lamenting my - plight, especially the clerks and students; at which I was afflicted - with more shame than I suffered physical pain. I thought of my ruined - hopes and glory, and then saw that by God's just judgment I was - punished where I had most sinned, and that Fulbert had justly - avenged treachery with treachery. But what a figure I should cut in - public! how the world would point its finger at me! I was also - confounded at the thought of the Levitical law, according to which I - had become an abomination to the Church.[2] In this misery the - confusion of shame--I confess it--rather than the ardour of conversion - drove me to the cover of the cloister, after she had willingly obeyed - my command to take the veil. I became a monk in the abbey of St. - Denis, and she a nun in the convent of Argenteuil. Many begged her not - to set that yoke upon her youth; at which, amid her tears, she broke - out in Cornelia's lament: 'O great husband! undeserving of my couch! - Has fortune rights over a head so high? Why did I, impious, marry thee - to make thee wretched? Accept these penalties, which I gladly pay.'[3] - With these words, she went straight to the altar, received the veil - blessed by the bishop, and took the vows before them all." - -Abaelard's _Historia calamitatum_ now turns to troubles having no -connection with Heloise: his difficulties with the monks of St. Denis, -with other monks, with every one, in fact, except his scholars; his -arraignment before the Council of Soissons, the public burning of his -book, _De Unitate et Trinitate divina_, and various other troubles, till, -seeking a retreat, he constructed an oratory on the bank of the Ardisson. -He named it the Paraclete, and there he taught and lectured. He was -afterwards elected abbot of a monastery in Brittany, where he discovered -that those under him were savage beasts rather than monks. Here the -_Historia calamitatum_ was written. - -The monks of St. Denis had never ceased to hate Abaelard for his assertion -that their great Saint was not really Dionysius the Areopagite who heard -Paul preach. Their abbot now brought forward and proved an ancient title -to the land where stood the convent of Argenteuil, "in which," to resume -Abaelard's account, - - "she, once my wife, now my sister in Christ, had taken the veil, and - was at this time prioress. The nuns were rudely driven out. News of - this came to me as a suggestion from the Lord to bethink me of the - deserted Paraclete. Going thither, I invited Heloise and her nuns to - come and take possession. They accepted, and I gave it to them. - Afterward Pope Innocent II. confirmed this grant to them and their - successors in perpetuity. There for a time they lived in want; but - soon the Divine Pity showed itself the true Paraclete, and moved the - people of the neighbourhood to take compassion on them, and they soon - knew no lack. Indeed as women are the weaker sex, their need moves men - more readily to pity, and their virtues are the more grateful to both - God and man. And on our sister the Lord bestowed such favour in the - eyes of all, that the bishops loved her as a daughter, the abbots as a - sister, the laity as a mother; and all wondered at her piety, her - wisdom, and her gentle patience in everything. She rarely let herself - be seen, that she might devote herself more wholly to prayers and - meditations in her cell; but all the more persistently people sought - her spiritual counsel." - -What were those meditations and those prayers uttered or unuttered in that -cell? They did not always refer to the kingdom of heaven, judging from the -abbess's first letter to her former lover. After the installation of -Heloise and her nuns, Abaelard rarely visited the Paraclete, although his -advice and instruction was desired there. His visits gave rise to too much -scandal. In the course of time, however, the _Historia calamitatum_ came -into the hands of Heloise, and occasioned this letter, which seems to -issue forth out of a long silence; ten years had passed since she became a -nun. The superscription is as follows: - - "To her master, rather to a father, to her husband, rather to a - brother, his maid or rather daughter, his wife or rather sister, to - Abaelard, Heloise. - - "Your letter, beloved, written to comfort a friend, chanced recently - to reach me. Seeing by its first lines from whom it was, I burned to - read it for the love I bear the writer, hoping also from its words to - recreate an image of him whose life I have ruined. Those words dropped - gall and absinthe as they brought back the unhappy story of our - intercourse and thy ceaseless crosses, O my only one. Truly the letter - must have convinced the friend that his troubles were light compared - with yours, as you showed the treachery and persecutions which had - followed you, the calumnies of enemies and the burning of your - glorious book, the machinations of false brothers, and the vile acts - of those worthless monks whom you call your sons. No one could read it - with dry eyes. Your perils have renewed my griefs; here we all despair - of your life and each day with trembling hearts expect news of your - death. In the name of Christ, who so far has somehow preserved thee - for himself, deign with frequent letters to let these weak servants of - Him and thee know of the storms overwhelming the swimmer, so that we - who alone remain to thee may be participators of thy pain or joy. One - who grieves may gain consolation from those grieving with him; a - burden borne by many is more lightly borne. And if this tempest - abates, how happy shall we be to know it. Whatever the letters may - contain they will show at least that we are not forgotten. Has not - Seneca said in his letter to Lucilius, that the letters of an absent - friend are sweet? When no malice can stop your giving us this much of - you, do not let neglect prove a bar. - - "You have written that long letter to console a friend with the story - of your own misfortunes, and have thereby roused our grief and added - to our desolation. Heal these new wounds. You owe to us a deeper debt - of friendship than to him, for we are not only friends, but friends - the dearest, and your daughters. After God, you alone are the founder - of this place, the builder of this oratory and of this congregation. - This new plantation for a holy purpose is your own; the delicate - plants need frequent watering. He who gives so much to his enemies, - should consider his daughters. Or, leaving out the others here, think - how this is owing me from thee: what thou owest to all women under - vows, thou shalt pay more devotedly to thine only one. How many books - have the holy fathers written for holy women, for their exhortation - and instruction! I marvel at thy forgetfulness of these frail - beginnings of our conversion. Neither respect of God nor love of us - nor the example of the blessed fathers, has led thee by speech or - letter to console me, cast about, and consumed with grief. This - obligation was the stronger, because the sacrament of marriage joined - thee to me, and I--every one sees it--cling to thee with unmeasured - love. - - "Dearest, thou knowest--who knows not?--how much I lost in thee, and - that an infamous act of treachery robbed me of thee and of myself at - once. The greater my grief, the greater need of consolation, not from - another but from thee, that thou who art alone my cause of grief may - be alone my consolation. It is thou alone that canst sadden me or - gladden me or comfort me. And thou alone owest this to me, especially - since I have done thy will so utterly that, unable to offend thee, I - endured to wreck myself at thy command. Nay, more than this, love - turned to madness and cut itself off from hope of that which alone it - sought, when I obediently changed my garb and my heart too in order - that I might prove thee sole owner of my body as well as of my spirit. - God knows, I have ever sought in thee only thyself, desiring simply - thee and not what was thine. I asked no matrimonial contract, I looked - for no dowry; not my pleasure, not my will, but thine have I striven - to fulfil. And if the name of wife seemed holier or more potent, the - word mistress (_amica_) was always sweeter to me, or even--be not - angry!--concubine or harlot; for the more I lowered myself before - thee, the more I hoped to gain thy favour, and the less I should hurt - the glory of thy renown. This thou didst graciously remember, when - condescending to point out in that letter to a friend some of the - reasons (but not all!) why I preferred love to wedlock and liberty to - a chain. I call God to witness that if Augustus, the master of the - world, would honour me with marriage and invest me with equal rule, it - would still seem to me dearer and more honourable to be called thy - strumpet than his empress. He who is rich and powerful is not the - better man: that is a matter of fortune, this of merit. And she is - venal who marries a rich man sooner than a poor man, and yearns for a - husband's riches rather than himself. Such a woman deserves pay and - not affection. She is not seeking the man but his goods, and would - wish, if possible, to prostitute herself to one still richer. Aspasia - put this clearly when she was trying to effect a reconciliation - between Xenophon and his wife: 'Until you come to think that there is - nowhere else a better man or a woman more desirable, you will be - continually looking for what you think to be the best, and will wish - to be married to the man or woman who is the very best.' This is - indeed a holy, rather than a philosophical sentiment, and wisdom, not - philosophy, speaks. This is the holy error and blessed deception - between man and wife, when affection perfect and unimpaired keeps - marriage inviolate not so much by continency of body as by chastity of - mind. But what with other women is an error, is, in my case, the - manifest truth: since what they suppose in their husbands, I--and the - whole world agrees--know to be in thee. My love for thee is truth, - being free from all error. Who among kings or philosophers can vie - with your fame? What country, what city does not thirst to see you? - Who, I ask, did not hurry to see you appearing in public and crane his - neck to catch a last glimpse as you departed? What wife, what maid did - not yearn for you absent, and burn when you were present? What queen - did not envy me my joys and couch? There were in you two qualities by - which you could draw the soul of any woman, the gift of poetry and the - gift of singing, gifts which other philosophers have lacked. As a - distraction from labour, you composed love-songs both in metre and in - rhyme, which for their sweet sentiment and music have been sung and - resung and have kept your name in every mouth. Your sweet melodies do - not permit even the illiterate to forget you. Because of these gifts - women sighed for your love. And, as these songs sung of our loves, - they quickly spread my name in many lands, and made me the envy of my - sex. What excellence of mind or body did not adorn your youth? No - woman, then envious, but now would pity me bereft of such delights. - What enemy even would not now be softened by the compassion due me? - - "I have brought thee evil, thou knowest how innocently. Not the result - of the act but the disposition of the doer makes the crime; justice - does not consider what happens, but through what intent it happens. My - intent towards thee thou only hast proved and alone canst judge. I - commit everything to thy weighing and submit to thy decree. - - "Tell me one thing: why, after our conversion, commanded by thee, did - I drop into oblivion, to be no more refreshed by speech of thine or - letter? Tell me, I say, if you can, or I will say what I feel and what - every one suspects: desire rather than friendship drew you to me, lust - rather than love. So when desire ceased, whatever you were manifesting - for its sake likewise vanished. This, beloved, is not so much my - opinion as the opinion of all. Would it were only mine and that thy - love might find defenders to argue away my pain. Would that I could - invent some reason to excuse you and also cover my cheapness. Listen, - I beg, to what I ask, and it will seem small and very easy to you. - Since I am cheated of your presence, at least put vows in words, of - which you have a store, and so keep before me the sweetness of thine - image. I shall vainly expect you to be bountiful in acts if I find you - a miser in words. Truly I thought that I merited much from you, when I - had done all for your sake and still continue in obedience. When - little more than a girl I took the hard vows of a nun, not from piety - but at your command. If I merit nothing from thee, how vain I deem my - labour! I can expect no reward from God, as I have done nothing from - love of Him. Thee hurrying to God I followed, or rather went before. - For, as you remembered how Lot's wife turned back, you first delivered - me to God bound with the vow, and then yourself. That single act of - distrust, I confess, grieved me and made me blush. God knows, at your - command I would have followed or preceded you to fiery places. For my - heart is not with me, but with thee; and now more than ever, if not - with thee it is nowhere, for it cannot exist without thee. That my - heart may be well with thee, see to it, I beg; and it will be well if - it finds thee kind, rendering grace for grace--a little for much. - Beloved, would that thy love were less sure of me so that it might be - more solicitous; I have made you so secure that you are negligent. - Remember all I have done and think what you owe. While I enjoyed - carnal joy with you, many people were uncertain whether I acted from - love or lust. Now the end makes clear the beginning; I have cut myself - off from pleasure to obey thy will. I have kept nothing, save to be - more than ever thine. Think how wicked it were in thee where all the - more is due to render less, nothing almost; especially when little is - asked, and that so easy for you. In the name of God to whom you have - vowed yourself, give me that of thee which is possible, the - consolation of a letter. I promise, thus refreshed, to serve God more - readily. When of old you would call me to pleasures, you sought me - with frequent letters, and never failed with thy songs to keep thy - Heloise on every tongue; the streets, the houses re-echoed me. How - much fitter that you should now incite me to God than then to lust? - Bethink thee what thou owest; heed what I ask; and a long letter I - will conclude with a brief ending: farewell only one!" - -Remarks upon this letter would seem to profane a shrine--had the man -profaned that shrine? He had not always worshipped there. Heloise knew -this, for all her love. She said it too, writing in phraseology which had -been brutalized through the denouncing spirit of Latin monasticism. How -truly she puts the situation and how clearly she thinks withal, discerning -as it were the beautiful and true in love and marriage. The whole letter -is well arranged, and written in a style showing the writer's training in -Latin mediaeval rhetoric. It was not the less deeply felt because composed -with care and skill. Evidently the writer is of the Middle Ages; her -occasional prolixity was not of her sex but of her time; and she quotes -the ancients so naturally; what they say should be convincing. How the -letter bares the motives of her own conduct: not for God's sake, or the -kingdom of heaven's sake, but for Abaelard's sake she became a nun. She -had no inclination thereto; her letters do not indicate that she ever -became really and spontaneously devoted to her calling. Abaelard was her -God, and as her God she held him to the end; though she applied herself to -the consideration of religious topics, as we shall see. Moreover, her -position as nun and abbess could not fail to force such topics on her -consideration. - -Is there another such love-letter, setting forth a situation so -triple-barred and hopeless? And the love which fills the letter, which -throbs and burns in it, which speaks and argues in it, how absolute is -this love. It is love carried out to its full conclusions; it includes the -whole woman and the whole of her life; whatever lies beyond its ken and -care is scorned and rejected. This love is extreme in its humility, and -yet realizes its own purity and worth; it is grieved at the thought of -rousing a feeling baser than itself. Heloise had been and still was -Heloise, devoted and self-sacrificing in her love. But the situation has -become torture; her heart is filled with all manner of pain, old and new, -till it is driven to assert its right at least to consolation. Thus -Heloise's love becomes insistent and requiring. Was it possibly burdensome -to the man who now might wish to think no more of passion? who might wish -no longer to be loved in that way? In his reply Abaelard does not unveil -himself; he seems to take an attitude which may have been the most -faithful expression that he could devise of his changed self. - - "To Heloise his beloved sister in Christ, Abaelard her brother in the - Same." - -This superscription was a gentle reminder of their present -relationship--in Christ. The writer begins: his not having written since -their conversion was to be ascribed not to his negligence, but to his -confidence in her wisdom; he did not think that she who, so full of grace, -had consoled her sister nuns when prioress, could as abbess need teaching -or exhortation for the guidance of her daughters; but if, in her humility, -she felt the need of his instruction in matters pertaining to God, she -might write, and he would answer, as the Lord should grant. Thanks be to -God who had filled their hearts--hers and her nuns--with solicitude for -his perils, and had made them participators in his afflictions; through -their prayers the divine pity had protected him. He had hastened to send -the Psalter, requested by his sister, formerly dear to him in the world -and now most dear in Christ, to assist their prayers. The potency of -prayer, with God and the saints, and especially the prayer of women for -those dear to them, is frequently declared in Scripture; he cites a number -of passages to prove it. May these move her to pray for him. He refers -with affectionate gratitude to the prayers which the nuns had been -offering for him, and encloses a short prayer for his safety, which he -begs and implores may be used in their daily canonical hours. If the Lord, -however, delivers him into the hands of his enemies to kill him, or if he -meet his death in any way, he begs that his body may be brought to the -Paraclete for burial, so that the sight of his sepulchre may move his -daughters and sisters in Christ to pray for him; no place could be so safe -and salutary for the soul of one bitterly repenting of his sins, as that -consecrated to the true Paraclete--the Comforter; nor could fitter -Christian burial be found than among women devoted by their vows to -Christ. He begs that the great solicitude which they now have for his -bodily safety, they will then have for the salvation of his soul, and by -the suffrage of their prayer for the dead man show how they had loved him -when alive. The letter closes, not with a personal word to Heloise, but -with this distich: - - "Vive, vale, vivantque tuae valeantque sorores, - Vivite, sed Christo, quaeso, mei memores." - -Thus as against Heloise's beseeching love, Abaelard lifted his hands, -palms out, repelling it. His letter ignored all that filled the soul and -the letter of Heloise. His reply did not lack words of spiritual -affection, and its tone was not as formal then as it now seems. When -Abaelard asked for the prayers of Heloise and her nuns, he meant it; he -desired the efficacy of their prayers. Then he wished to be buried among -them. We are touched by this; but, again, Abaelard meant it, as he said, -for his soul's welfare; it was no love sentiment. The letter stirred the -heart of Heloise to a rebellious outcry against the cruelty of God, if not -of Abaelard, a soul's cry against life and the calm attitude of one who no -longer was--or at least meant to be no longer--what he had been to her. - - "To her only one, next to Christ, his only one in Christ. - - "I wonder, my only one, that contrary to epistolary custom and the - natural order of things, in the salutation of your letter you have - placed me before you, a woman before a man, a wife before a husband, a - servant before her lord, a nun before a monk and priest, a deaconess - before an abbot. The proper order is for one writing to a superior to - put his own name last, but when writing to an inferior, the writer's - name should precede. We also marvelled, that where you should have - afforded us consolation, you added to our desolation, and excited the - tears you should have quieted. How could we restrain our tears when - reading what you wrote towards the end: 'If the Lord shall deliver me - into the hand of my enemies to slay me'! Dearest, how couldst thou - think or say that? May God never forget His handmaids, to leave them - living when you are no more! May He never allot to us that life, which - would be harder than any death! It is for you to perform our obsequies - and commend our souls to God, and send before to God those whom you - have gathered for Him--that you may have no further anxiety, and - follow us the more gladly because assured of our safety. Refrain, my - lord, I beg, from making the miserable most miserable with such words; - destroy not our life before we die. 'Sufficient unto the day is the - evil thereof'--and that day will come to all with bitterness enough. - 'What need,' says Seneca, 'to add to evil, and destroy life before - death?' - - "Thou askest, only one, that, in the event of thy death when absent - from us, we should have thy body brought to our cemetery, in order - that, being always in our memory, thou shouldst obtain greater benefit - from our prayers. Did you think that your memory could slip from us? - How could we pray, with distracted minds? What use of tongue or reason - would be left to us? When the mind is crazed against God it will not - placate Him with prayer so much as irritate Him with complaints. We - could only weep, pressing to follow rather than bury you. How could we - live after we had lost our life in you? The thought of your death is - death to us; what would be the actuality? God grant we shall not have - to pay those rites to one from whom we look for them; may we go before - and not follow! A heart crushed with grief is not calm, nor is a mind - tossed by troubles open to God. Do not, I beg, hinder the divine - service to which we are dedicated. - - "What remains of hope for me when thou art gone? Or what reason to - continue in this pilgrimage, where I have no solace save thee? and of - thee I have but the bare knowledge that thou dost live, since thy - restoring presence is not granted me. Oh!--if it is right to say - it--how cruel has God been to me! Inclement Clemency! Fortune has - emptied her quiver against me, so that others have nothing to fear! If - indeed a single dart were left, no place could be found in me for a - new wound. Fortune fears only lest I escape her tortures by death. - Wretched and unhappy! in thee I was lifted above all women; in thee am - I the more fatally thrown down. What glory did I have in thee! what - ruin have I now! Fortune made me the happiest of women that she might - make me the most miserable. The injury was the more outrageous in that - all ways of right were broken. While we were abandoned to love's - delights, the divine severity spared us. When we made the forbidden - lawful and by marriage wiped out fornication's stains, the Lord's - wrath broke on us, impatient of an unsullied bed when it long had - borne with one defiled. A man taken in adultery would have been amply - punished by what came to you. What others deserved for adultery, that - you got from the marriage which you thought had made amends for - everything. Adulteresses bring their paramours what your own wife - brought you. Not when we lived for pleasure, but when, separated, we - lived in chastity, you presiding at the Paris schools, I at thy - command dwelling with the nuns at Argenteuil; you devoted to study, I - to prayer and holy reading; it was then that you alone paid the - penalty for what we had done together. Alone you bore the punishment, - which you deserved less than I. When you had humiliated yourself and - elevated me and all my kin, you little merited that punishment either - from God or from those traitors. Miserable me, begotten to cause such - a crime! O womankind ever the ruin of the noblest men![4] - - "Well the Tempter knows how easy is man's overthrow through a wife. He - cast his malice over us, and the man whom he could not throw down - through fornication, he tried with marriage, using a good to bring - about an evil where evil means had failed. I thank God at least for - this, that the Tempter did not draw me to assent to that which became - the cause of the evil deed. Yet, although in this my mind absolves me, - too many sins had gone before to leave me guiltless of that crime. For - long a servant of forbidden joys, I earned the punishment which I now - suffer of past sins. Let the evil end be attributed to ill beginnings! - May my penitence be meet for what I have done, and may long remorse in - some way compensate for the penalty you suffered! What once you - suffered in the body, may I through contrition bear to the end of - life, that so I may make satisfaction to thee if not to God. To - confess the infirmities of my most wretched soul, I can find no - penitence to offer God, whom I never cease to accuse of utter cruelty - towards you. Rebellious to His rule, I offend Him with indignation - more than I placate Him with penitence. For that cannot be called the - sinner's penitence where, whatever be the body's suffering, the mind - retains the will to sin and still burns with the same desires. It is - easy in confession to accuse oneself of sins, and also to do penance - with the body; but hard indeed to turn the heart from the desire of - its greatest joys![5] Love's pleasures, which we knew together, cannot - be made displeasing to me nor driven from my memory. Wherever I turn, - they press upon me, nor do they spare my dreams. Even in the solemn - moments of the Mass, when prayer should be the purest, their phantoms - catch my soul. When I should groan for what I have done, I sigh for - what I have lost. Not only our acts, but times and places stick fast - in my mind, and my body quivers. O truly wretched me, fit only to - utter this cry of the soul: 'Wretched that I am, who shall deliver me - from the body of this death?' Would I could add with truth what - follows:--'I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord.' Such - thanksgiving, dearest, may be thine, by one bodily ill cured of many - tortures of the soul, and God may have been merciful where He seemed - against you; like a good physician who does not spare the pain needed - to save life. But I am tortured with passion and the fires of memory. - They call me chaste, who do not know me for a hypocrite. They look - upon purity of the flesh as virtue--which is of the soul, not of the - body. Having some praise from men, I merit none from God, who knows - the heart. I am called religious at a time when most religion is - hypocrisy, and when whoever keeps from offence against human law is - praised. Perhaps it seems praiseworthy and acceptable to God, through - decent conduct,--whatever the intent--to avoid scandalizing the Church - or causing the Lord's name to be blasphemed or the religious Order - discredited. Perhaps it may be of grace just to abstain from evil. But - the Scripture says, 'Refrain from evil and do good'; and vainly he - attempts either who does not act from love of God. God knows that I - have always feared to offend thee more than I feared to offend Him; - and have desired to please thee rather than Him. Thy command, not the - divine love, put on me this garb of religion. What a wretched life I - lead if I vainly endure all this here and am to have no reward - hereafter. My hypocrisy has long deceived you, as it has others, and - therefore you desire my prayers. Have no such confidence; I need your - prayers; do not withdraw their aid. Do not take away the medicine, - thinking me whole. Do not cease to think me needy; do not think me - strong; do not delay your help. Cease from praising me, I beg. No one - versed in medicine will judge of inner disease from outward view. Thy - praise is the more perilous because I love it, and desire to please - thee always. Be fearful rather than confident regarding me, so that I - may have the help of your care. Do not seek to spur me on, by quoting, - 'For strength is made perfect in weakness,' or 'He is not crowned - unless he have contended lawfully.' I am not looking for the crown of - victory; enough for me to escape peril;--safer to shun peril than to - wage war! In whatever little corner of heaven God puts me, that will - satisfy me. Hear what Saint Jerome says: 'I confess my weakness; I do - not wish to fight for the hope of victory, lest I lose.' Why give up - certainties to follow the uncertain?" - -This letter gives a view of Heloise's mind, its strong grasp and its -capacity for reasoning, though its reasoning is here distraught with -passion. Scathingly, half-blinded by her pain, she declares the -perversities of Providence, as they glared upon her. Such a disclosure of -the woman's mind suggests how broadly based in thought and largely reared -was that great love into which her whole soul had been poured, the mind as -well as heart. Her love was great, unique, not only from its force of -feeling, but from the power and scope of thought by which passion and -feeling were carried out so far and fully to the last conclusions of -devotion. The letter also shows a woman driven by stress of misery to -utter cries and clutch at remedies that her calmer self would have put -by. It is not hypocrisy to conceal the desires or imaginings which one -would never act upon. To tell these is not true disclosure of oneself, but -slander. Torn by pain, Heloise makes herself more vile and needy than in -other moments she knew herself to be. Yet the letter also uncovers her, -and in nakedness there is some truth. Doubtless her nun's garb did clothe -a hypocrite. Whatever she felt--and here we see the worst she felt--before -the world she had to act the nun. We shall soon see how she forced herself -to act, or be, the nun toward Abaelard. - -Abaelard replied in a letter filled with religious argument and -consolation. It was self-controlled, firm, authoritative, and strong in -those arguments regarding God's mercy which have stood the test of time. -If they sometimes fail to satisfy the embittered soul, at least they are -the best that man has known. And withal, the letter is calmly and nobly -affectionate--what place was there for love's protestations? They would -have increased the evil, adding fuel to Heloise's passionate misery. - -The master-note is struck in the address: "To the spouse of Christ, His -servant." The letter seeks to turn Heloise's thoughts to her nun's calling -and her soul's salvation. It divides her expressions of complaint under -four heads. First, he had put her name first, because she had become his -superior from the moment of her bridal with his master Christ. Jerome -writing to Eustochium called her Lady, when she had become the spouse of -Jerome's Lord. Abaelard shows, with citations from the Song of Songs, the -glory of the spouse, and how her prayers should be sought by one who was -the servant of her Husband. Second, as to the terrors roused in her by his -mention of his peril and possible death, he points out that in her first -letter she had bidden him write of those perils; if they brought him -death, she should deem that a kind release. She should not wish to see his -miseries drawn out, even for her sake. Third, he shows that his praise of -her was justified even by her disclaimer of merit--as it is written, Who -humbles himself shall be exalted. He warns her against false modesty which -may be vanity. - -He turns at last to the old and ceaseless plaint which she makes against -God for cruelty, when she should rather glorify Him; he had thought that -that bitterness had departed, so dangerous for her, so painful to him. If -she wished to please him, let her lay it aside; retaining it, she could -not please him or advance with him to blessedness; let her have this much -religion, not to separate herself from him hastening to God; let her take -comfort in their journeying to the same goal. He then shows her that his -punishment was just as well as merciful; he had deserved it from God and -also from Fulbert. If she will consider, she will see in it God's justice -and His mercy; God had saved them from shipwreck; had raised a barrier -against shame and lust. For himself the punishment was purification, not -privation; will not she, as his inseparable comrade, participate in the -workings of this grace, even as she shared the guilt and its pardon? Once -he had thought of binding her to him in wedlock; but God found a means to -turn them both to Him; and the Lord was continuing His mercy towards her, -causing her to bring forth spiritual daughters, when otherwise she would -only have borne children in the flesh; in her the curse of Eve is turned -to the blessing of Mary. God had purified them both; whom God loveth He -correcteth. Oh! let her thoughts dwell with the Son of God, seized, -dragged, beaten, spit upon, crowned with thorns, hung on a vile cross. Let -her think of Him as her spouse, and for Him let her make lament; He bought -her with himself, He loved her. In comparison with His love, his own -(Abaelard's) was lust, seeking the pleasure it could get from her. If he, -Abaelard, had suffered for her, it was not willingly nor for her sake, as -Christ had suffered, and for her salvation. Let her weep for Him who made -her whole, not for her corrupter; for her Redeemer, not for her defiler; -for the Lord who died for her, not for the living servant, himself just -freed from the death. Let his sister accept with patience what came to her -in mercy from Him who wounded the body to save the soul. - - "We are one in Christ, as through marriage we were one flesh. Whatever - is thine is not alien to me. Christ is thine, because thou art His - spouse. And now thou hast me for a servant, who formerly was thy - master--a servant united to thee by spiritual love. I trust in thy - pleading with Him for such defence as my own prayers may not obtain. - That nothing may hinder this petition I have composed this prayer, - which I send thee: 'O God, who formed woman from the side of man and - didst sanction the sacrament of marriage; who didst bestow upon my - frailty a cure for its incontinence; do not despise the prayers of thy - handmaid, and the prayers which I pour out for my sins and those of my - dear one. Pardon our great crimes, and may the enormity of our faults - find the greatness of thy ineffable mercy. Punish the culprits in the - present; spare, in the future. Thou hast joined us, Lord, and hast - divided us, as it pleased thee. Now complete most mercifully what thou - hast begun in mercy; and those whom thou hast divided in this world, - join eternally in heaven, thou who art our hope, our portion, our - expectation, our consolation, Lord blessed forever. Amen.' - - "Farewell in Christ, spouse of Christ; in Christ farewell and in - Christ live. Amen." - -In her next letter Heloise obeys, and turns her pen if not her thoughts to -the topics suggested by Abaelard's admonitions. The short scholastically -phrased address cannot be rendered in any modern fashion: "Domino -specialiter sua singulariter." - - "That you may have no further reason to call me disobedient, your - command shall bridle the words of unrestrained grief; in writing I - will moderate my language, which I might be unable to do in speech. - Nothing is less in our power than our heart; which compels us to obey - more often than it obeys us. When our affections goad us, we cannot - keep the sudden impulse from breaking out in words; as it is written, - 'From the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh.' So I will withhold - my hand from writing whenever I am unable to control my words. Would - that the sorrowing heart were as ready to obey as the hand that - writes! You can afford some remedy to grief, even when unable to - dispel it quite. As one nail driven in drives out another, a new - thought pushes away its predecessor, and the mind is freed for a time. - A thought, moreover, takes the mind up and leads it from others more - effectually, if the subject of the thought is excellent and of great - importance." - -The rest of this long letter shows Heloise putting her principles in -practice. She is forcing her mind to consider and her pen to discourse -upon topics which might properly occupy an abbess's thoughts--topics, -moreover, which would satisfy Abaelard and call forth long letters in -reply. Whether she cared really for these matters or ever came to care -for them; or whether she turned to them to distract her mind and keep up -some poor makeshift of intercourse with one who would and could no longer -be her lover; or whether all these motives mingled, and in what -proportion, perhaps may best be left to Him who tries the heart. - -The abbess writes: - - "All of us here, servants of Christ and thy daughters, make two - requests of thy fathership which we deem most needful. The one is, - that you would instruct us concerning the origins of the order of nuns - and the authority for our calling. The other is, that you would draw - up a written _regula_, suitable for women, which shall prescribe and - set the order and usages of our convent. We do not find any adequate - _regula_ for women among the works of the holy Fathers. It is a - manifest defect in monastic institutions that the same rules should be - imposed upon both monks and nuns, and that the weaker sex should bear - the same monastic yoke as the stronger." - -Heloise, having set this task for Abaelard, proceeds to show how the -various monastic _regulae_, from Benedict's downward, failed to make -suitable provision for the habits and requirements and weaknesses of -women, the _regulae_ hitherto having been concerned with the weaknesses of -men. She enters upon matters of clothing and diet, and everything -concerning the lives of nuns. She writes as one learned in Scripture and -the writings of the Fathers, and sets the whole matter forth, in its -details, with admirable understanding of its intricacies. She concludes, -reminding Abaelard that it is for him in his lifetime to set a _regula_ -for them to follow forever; after God, he is their founder. They might -thereafter have some teacher who would build in alien fashion; such a one -might have less care and understanding, and might not be as readily obeyed -as himself; it is for him to speak, and they will listen. _Vale._ - -The first of Heloise's letters is a great expression of a great love; in -the second, anguish drives the writer's hand; in the third, she has gained -self-control; she suppresses her heart, and writes a letter which is -discursive and impersonal from the beginning to the little _Vale_ at the -end. - -Abaelard returned a long epistle upon the Scriptural origin of the order -of nuns, and soon followed it with another, still longer, containing -instruction, advice, and rules for the nuns of the Paraclete. He also -wrote them a letter upon the study of Scripture. From this time forth he -proved his devotion to Heloise and her nuns by the large body of writings -which he composed for their edification. Heloise sent him a long list of -questions upon obscure phrases and knotty points of Scripture, which he -answered diligently in detail.[6] He then sent her a collection of hymns -written or "rearranged" by himself for the use of the nuns, accompanied by -a prefatory letter: "At thy prayers, my sister Heloise, once dear to me in -the world, now most dear in Christ, I have composed what in Greek are -called hymns, and in Hebrew _tillim_." He then explains why, yielding to -the requests of the nuns, he had written hymns, of which the Church had -such a store. - -Next he composed for them a large volume of sermons, which he also sent -with a letter to Heloise: "Having completed the book of hymns and -sequences, revered in Christ and loved sister Heloise, I have hastened to -compose some sermons for your congregation; I have paid more attention to -the meaning than the language. But perhaps an unstudied style is well -suited to simple auditors. In composing and arranging these sermons I have -followed the order of Church festivals. Farewell in the Lord, servant of -His, once dear to me in the world, now most dear in Christ: in the flesh -then my wife, now my sister in the spirit and partner in our sacred -calling." - -At a subsequent period, when his opinions were condemned by the Council of -Sens, he sent to Heloise a confession of faith. Shortly afterward his -stormy life found a last refuge in the monastery of Cluny. His closing -years (of peace?) are described in a letter to Heloise from the good and -revered abbot, Peter the Venerable. He writes that he had received with -joy the letter which her affection had dictated,[7] and now took the first -opportunity to express his recognition of her affection and his reverence -for herself. He refers to her keenly prosecuted studies (so rare for -women) before taking the veil, and then to the glorious example of her -sage and holy life in the nun's sacred calling--her victory over the proud -Prince of this World. His admiration for her was deep; his expression of -it was extreme. A learned, wise, and holy woman could not be praised more -ardently than Heloise is praised by this good man. He had spoken of the -advantages his monastery would have derived from her presence, and then -continued: - - "But although God's providence denied us this, it was granted us to - enjoy the presence of him--who was yours--Master Peter Abaelard, a man - always to be spoken of with honour as a true servant of Christ and a - philosopher. The divine dispensation placed him in Cluny for his last - years, and through him enriched our monastery with treasure richer - than gold. No brief writing could do justice to his holy, humble, and - devoted life among us. I have not seen his equal in humility of garb - and manner. When in the crowd of our brethren I forced him to take a - first place, in meanness of clothing he appeared as the last of all. - Often I marvelled, as the monks walked past me, to see a man so great - and famous thus despise and abase himself. He was abstemious in food - and drink, refusing and condemning everything beyond the bare - necessities. He was assiduous in study, frequent in prayer, always - silent unless compelled to answer the question of some brother or - expound sacred themes before us. He partook of the sacrament as often - as possible. Truly his mind, his tongue, his act, taught and - exemplified religion, philosophy, and learning. So he dwelt with us, a - man simple and righteous, fearing God, turning from evil, consecrating - to God the latter days of his life. At last, because of his bodily - infirmities, I sent him to a quiet and salubrious retreat on the banks - of the Saone. There he bent over his books, as long as his strength - lasted, always praying, reading, writing, or dictating. In these - sacred exercises, not sleeping but watching, he was found by the - heavenly Visitor; who summoned him to the eternal wedding-feast not as - a foolish but as a wise virgin, bearing his lamp filled with oil--the - consciousness of a holy life. When he came to pay humanity's last - debt, his illness was brief. With holy devotion he made confession of - the Catholic Faith, then of his sins. The brothers who were with him - can testify how devoutly he received the viaticum of that last - journey, and with what fervent faith he commended his body and soul to - his Redeemer. Thus this master, Peter, completed his days. He who was - known throughout the world by the fame of his teaching, entered the - school of Him who said, 'Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of - heart'; and continuing meek and lowly he passed to Him, as we may - believe. - - "Venerable and dearest sister in the Lord, the man who was once joined - to thee in the flesh, and then by the stronger chain of divine love, - him in thy stead, or as another thee, the Lord holds in His bosom; and - at the day of His coming, His grace will restore him to thee." - -The abbot afterwards visited the Paraclete, and on returning to Cluny -received this letter from the abbess: - - "God's mercy visiting us, we have been visited by the favour of your - graciousness. We are glad, kindest father, and we glory that your - greatness condescended to our insignificance. A visit from you is an - honour even to the great. The others may know the great benefit they - received from the presence of your highness. I cannot tell in words, - or even comprehend in thought, how beneficial and how sweet your - coming was to me. You, our abbot and our lord, celebrated mass with us - the sixteenth of the Calends of last December; you commended us to the - Holy Spirit; you nourished us with the Divine Word;--you gave us the - body of the master, and confirmed that gift from Cluny. To me also, - unworthy to be your servant, though by word and letter you have called - me sister, you gave as a pledge of sincere love the privilege of a - Tricenarium, to be performed by the brethren of Cluny, after my death, - for the benefit of my soul. You have promised to confirm this under - your seal. May you fulfil this, my lord. Might it please you also to - send to me that other sealed roll, containing the absolution of the - master, that I may hang it on his tomb. Remember also, for the love of - God, our--and your--Astralabius, to obtain for him a prebend from the - bishop of Paris or another. Farewell. May God preserve you, and grant - to us sometime your presence." - -The good abbot replied with a kind and affectionate letter, confirming his -gift of the Tricenarium, promising to do all he could for Astralabius, and -sending with his letter the record of Abaelard's absolution, as follows: - - "I, Peter, Abbot of Cluny, who received Peter Abaelard to be a monk in - Cluny, and granted his body, secretly transported, to the Abbess - Heloise and the nuns of the Paraclete, absolve him, in the performance - of my office (_pro officio_) by the authority of the omnipotent God - and all the saints, from all his sins." - -Abaelard died in the year 1142, aged sixty-three. Twenty-one years -afterward Heloise died at the same age, and was buried in the same tomb -with him at the Paraclete: - - "Hoc tumulo abbatissa jacet prudens Heloissa." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -GERMAN CONSIDERATIONS: WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE - - -A criticism of the world of feudalism, chivalry, and love may be had from -the impressions and temperamental reactions of a certain thinking atom -revolving in the same. The atom referred to was Walther von der -Vogelweide, a German, a knight, a Minnesinger, and a national poet whose -thoughts were moved by the instincts of his caste and race. - -In language, temperament, and character, the Germans east of the Rhine -were Germans still in the thirteenth century. They had accepted, and even -vitally appropriated, Latin Christianity; those of them who were educated -had received a Latin education. Yet their natures, though somewhat -tempered, showed largely and distinctly German. Moreover, through the -centuries, they had acquired--or rather they had never lost--a national -antipathy toward those Roman papal well-springs of authority, which seemed -to suck back German gold and lands in return for spiritual assurance and -political betrayal. - -A different and already mediaevalized element had also become part of -German culture, to wit, the matter of the French Arthurian romances and -the lyric fashions of Provence, which, working together, had captivated -modish German circles from the Rhine to the Danube. Nevertheless the -German character maintained itself in the _Minnelieder_ which followed -Provencal poetry, and in the _hoefisch_ (courtly) epics which were palpable -translations from the French.[8] The distinguished group of German poets -whose lives fall around the year 1200, were as German as their language, -although they borrowed from abroad the form and matter of their -compositions. - -There could be no better Germans than the two most thoughtful of this -group, Wolfram von Eschenbach and Walther von der Vogelweide. Most -Germanically the former wrestled with that ancient theme, "from suffering, -wisdom," which he pressed into the tale of _Parzival_. His great poem, -achieved with toil and sweat, was mighty in its climaxes, and fit to -strengthen the hearts of those men who through sorrow and loneliness and -despair's temptations were growing "slowly wise." - -The virtues which Wolfram praised and embodied in his hero were those -praised in the verses, and even, one may think, strugglingly exemplified -in the conduct, of Walther von der Vogelweide,[9] most famous of -Minnesingers, and a power in the German lands through his _Sprueche_, or -verses personal and political. Less is known of his life than of his whole -and manly views, his poetic fancies, his musings, his hopes, and great -depressions. Many places have claimed the honour of his birth, which took -place somewhat before 1170. He was poor, and through his youth and manhood -moved about from castle to castle, and from court to court, seeking to win -some recompense for his excellent verses and good company. Thus he learned -much of men, "climbing another's stairs," with his fellows, at the -Landgraf Hermann's Wartburg, or at the Austrian ducal Court. - -Walther's _Sprueche_ render his moods most surely, and reflect his outlook -on the world. His charming _Minnelieder_ bear more conventional evidence. -The courtly German love-songs passing by this name were affected by the -conceits and conventions of the Provencal poetry upon which they were -modelled. A strong nature might use such with power, or break with their -influence. Walther made his own the high convention of trouvere and -troubadour, that love uplifts the lover's being. Besides this, and besides -the lighter forms and phrases current in such poetry, his _Lieder_ carry -natural feeling, joy, and moral levity, according to the theme; they also -may express Walther's convictions. - -To take examples: Walther's _Tagelied_[10] imitates the Provencal _alba_ -(dawn), in which knight and truant lady bewail the coming of the light and -the parting which it brings. Far more joyous, and as immoral as one -pleases, is _Unter der Linde_, most famous of his songs. Marvellously it -gives the mood of love's joy remembered--and anticipated too. The -immorality is complete (if we will be serious), and is rendered most -alluring by the utter gladness of the girl's song--no repentance, no -regret; only joy and roguish laughter. - -Walther was young, he was a knight and a Minnesinger; he had doubtless -loved, in this way! His love-songs have plenty to say of the red mouth, -good for kissing--I care not who knows it either. But he also realizes, -and greatly sings, the height and breadth and worth of love the true and -stable, the blessing and completion of two lives, which comes to a false -heart never.[11] He seems to feel it necessary to defend love for itself, -perhaps because _marriage_ was taken more seriously in this imitative -German literature than in the French and Provencal originals: "Who says -that love is sin, let him consider well. Many an honour dwells with her, -and troth and happiness. If one does ill to the other, love is grieved. I -do not mean false love; that were better named un-love. No friend of that, -am I." But his thoughts turn quickly to love as a lasting union: "He happy -man, she happy woman, whose hearts are to each other true; both lives -increased in price and worth; blessed their years and all their days."[12] - -Giving play to his caustic temper, Walther puts scorn upon the light of -love: "Fool he who cannot understand what joy and good, love brings. But -the light man is ever pleased with light things, as is fit!"[13] This -Minnesinger applied most earnest standards to life; lofty his praise of -the qualities of womanhood, which are better than beauty or riches: -"woman" is a higher word than "lady"[14]--it took a German to say this. -"He who carries hidden sorrow in his heart, let him think upon a good -woman--he is freed."[15] With a burst of patriotism, in one of his -greatest poems Walther praises German women as the best in all the -world.[16] - -But even in the _Minnelieder_, Walther has his despondencies. One of the -most definite, and possibly conventional, was regret for love's labour -lost, and the days of youth spent in service of an ungracious fair. The -poet wonders how it is that he who has helped other men is tongue-tied -before his lady. Again, his reflections broaden from thoughts of -unresponsive fair ones to a conviction of life's thanklessness. "I have -well served the World (_Frau Welt_, Society), and gladly would serve her -more, but for her evil thanks and her way of preferring fools to me.... -Come, World, give me better greeting--the loss is not all mine." He knows -his good unbending temper which will not endure to hear ill spoken of the -upright. But he thinks, what is the use? why speak so sweetly, why sing, -when virtue and beauty are so lightly held, and every one does evil, -fearing nought? The verse which carries these reflections is tossing in -the squally haven of Society; soon the poet will encounter the wild sea -without. Still from the windy harbour comes one grand lament over art's -decline: "The worst songs please, frogs' voices! Oh, I laugh from anger! -Lady World, no score of mine is on your devil's slate. Many a life of man -and woman have I made glad--might I so have gladdened mine! Here, I make -my Will, and bequeath my goods--to the envious my ill-luck, my sorrows to -the liars, my follies to false lovers, and to the ladies my heart's -pain."[17] He makes a solemn offering of his poems: "Good women, worthy -men, a loving greeting is my due. Forty years have I sung fittingly of -love; and now, take my songs which gladden, as my gift to you. Your favour -be my return. And with my staff I will fare on, still wooing worth with -undisheartened work, as from my childhood. So shall I be, in lowly lot, -one of the Noble--for me enough." - -To relish Walther's love-songs, one need not know whether she was dark or -fair, kept forest-tryst or listened by some castle's hearth, or in what -German land that castle stood. Likewise in his _Sprueche_, which have other -bearing, the roll of his protesting voice carries the universal human. To -comprehend them it were well to know that life was then as now niggardly -in rewarding virtue; beyond this, one needs to have the type-idea of the -Empire and the Papacy, those two powers which were set, somewhat -antagonistically, on the decree of God; both claiming the world's -headship; the one, Roman in tradition, but in strength and temper German, -and of this world decidedly. The other, Roman in the genius of its -organization, and Christian in its subordination of the life below to the -life to come, if not in the methods of establishing this consummation; -Christian too, but more especially mediaeval, in its formal disdain for -whatever belonged to earth. In Germany these two partial opposites were -further antagonized, since the native resources recoiled from the foreign -drain upon them, and the struggling patriotism of a broken land resented -the pressure of a state within and above the state of duke and king and -emperor. - -In Walther's time Innocent III. swayed the nations from Peter's throne. -Just before Innocent's accession, Germany's able emperor, Henry VI., died -suddenly in Sicily (September 1197), leaving an heir not two years old. -The queen-mother, dying the next year, bequeathed this child, Frederick, -to the paternal care of Innocent, his feudal as well as ghostly lord, -since the queen, for herself and child, had accepted the Pope as the -feudal suzerain of their kingdom of Sicily. In Germany (using that name -loosely and broadly) Philip Hohenstauffen, Henry's brother and Duke of -Suabia, claimed the throne. His unequal opponent was Otto of Brunswick, of -the ever-rebellious house of Henry the Lion. The Pope opposed the -Hohenstauffen; but was obliged to acknowledge him when the course of the -ten years of wasting civil war in Germany decided in his -favour--whereupon, alack! Philip was murdered (1207). Quickly the Pope -turned back to Otto; but the latter, after he had been crowned king and -emperor, became intolerable to Innocent through the compulsion of his -position as the head of an empire inherently hostile to the papacy. To -thwart him Innocent set up his own ward, Frederick. Soon this precocious -youth began to make head against pope-forsaken Otto; and then the -excommunicated emperor was overthrown in 1214 by Philip Augustus of -France, who had intervened in Frederick's favour. So Otto passed away, -and, some time after, Frederick was crowned German king at -Aix-la-Chapelle.[18] In the meanwhile Innocent died (1216), and amity -followed between Frederick and the gentle Honorius III., who crowned -Frederick emperor at Rome in 1220. This peace ended quickly when the -sterner Gregory IX. ascended the papal throne on the death of Honorius in -1227. - -Walther's life extended through these events. Though apparently changing -sides under the stress of his necessities, he was patriotically German to -the end. First he clave to the Hohenstauffen, Philip, as the true upholder -of German interests against Otto and the Pope. On Philip's death, he -turned to Otto; but with all the world left him at last for Frederick. It -is known that Walther, an easily angered man, felt himself ill-used by -Otto and justified in turning to the open-handed Frederick, who finally -gave him a small fief. To the last, Walther upheld him as Germany's -sovereign. Probably the poet died in the year 1228, just as Gregory was -succeeding Honorius, and the death-struggle of the Empire with the Papacy -was opening. - -With no light heart, as well may be imagined, had Walther looked about him -on the death of the emperor Henry in 1197. "I sat upon a rock, crossed -knee on knee, and with elbow so supported, chin on hand I leaned. -Anxiously I pondered. I could see no way to win gain without loss. Honour -and riches do not go hand in hand, both of less value than God's favour. -Would I have them all? Alas! riches and worldly honour and God's favour -come not within the closure of one heart's wishes. The ways are barred; -perfidy lurks in secret, and might walks the highroads. Peace and law are -wounded."[19] - -The personal dilemma of the poet with his fortune to make, but desirous of -doing right, mirrors the desperate situation of the State: "Woe is thee, -German tongue; ill stand thy order and thy honour!--I hear the lies of -Rome betraying two kings!" And in verses of wrath Walther inveighs against -the Pope. The sweeping nature of his denunciation raises the question -whether he merely attacked the supposed treachery of the reigning pope, or -was opposed to the papacy as an institution hostile to the German nation. - -The answer is not clear. Mediaeval denunciations of the Church range from -indictments of particular abuses, on through more general invectives, to -the clear protests of heretics impugning the ecclesiastical system. It is -not always easy to ascertain the speaker's meaning. Usually the abuse and -not the system is attacked. Hostility to the latter, however sweeping the -language of satirist or preacher, is not lightly to be inferred. The -invectives of St. Bernard and Damiani are very broad; but where had the -Church more devoted sons? Even the satirists composing in Old French -rarely intended an assault upon her spiritual authority. It would seem as -if, at least in the Romance countries, one must look for such hostility to -heretical circles, the Waldenses for example. And from the orthodox -mediaeval standpoint, this was their most accursed heresy. - -It would have been hard for any German to use broader language than some -of the French satirists and Latin castigators. If there was a difference, -it must be sought in the specific matter of the German disapproval viewed -in connection with the political situation. Was a position ever taken -incompatible with the Church's absolute spiritual authority? or one -intrinsically irreconcilable with the secular power of the papacy? At any -time, in any country, papal claims might become irreconcilable with the -royal prerogative--as William the Conqueror had held those of Gregory VII. -in England, and as, two centuries afterwards, Philip the Fair was to hold -those of Boniface VIII. in France. But in neither case was there such -sheer and fundamental antagonism as men felt to exist between the Empire -and the Papacy. Perhaps it was possible in the early thirteenth century -for a German whose whole heart was on the German side to dispute even the -sacerdotal principle of papal authority. It is hard to judge otherwise of -Freidank, the very German composer or collector of trenchant sayings in -the early thirteenth century. Many of these sneer at Rome and the Pope, -and some of them strike the gist of the matter: "Sunde nieman mac vergeben -wan Got alein" ("God alone can forgive sins"). This is the direct -statement; he gives its scornful converse: "Could the Pope absolve me from -my oaths and duties, I'd let other sureties go and fasten to him -alone."[20] Such words mean denial of the Church's authority to forgive, -and the Pope's to grant absolution from oaths of allegiance. Freidank is -very near rejecting the principles of the ecclesiastical system. - -Walther, Freidank's contemporary, is more picturesque: "King Constantine, -he gave so much--as I will tell you--to the Chair of Rome: spear, cross, -and crown. At once the angels cried: 'Alas! Alas! Alas! Christendom before -stood crowned with righteousness. Now is poison fallen on her, and her -honey turned to gall--sad for the world henceforth!' To-day the princes -all live in honour; only their highest languishes--so works the priest's -election. Be that denounced to thee, sweet God! The priests would upset -laymen's rights: true is the angels' prophecy."[21] - -On Constantine's apocryphal gift, symbolized by the emblems of Christ's -passion, rested the secular authority of the popes, which Walther laments -with the angels. "The Chair of Rome was first set up by Sorcerer Gerbert! -[Queer history this, but we see what he means.] He destroyed his own soul -only; but this one would bring down Christendom with him to perdition. -When will all tongues call Heaven to arms, and ask God how long He will -sleep? They bring to nought His work, distort His Word. His steward steals -His treasure; His judge robs here and murders there; His shepherd has -become a wolf among His sheep."[22] The clergy point their fingers -heavenward while they travel fast to hell.[23] How laughs the Pope at us, -when at home with his Italians, at the way he empties our German pockets -into his "poor boxes."[24] Walther's hatred of the foreign Pope is roused -at every point. And at last, in a _Spruch_ full of implied meaning, he -declares that Christ's word as to the tribute money meant that the emperor -should receive his royal due.[25] - -These utterances, considered in the light of the political and racial -situation, seem to deny, at least implicitly, the secular power of the -papacy. Yet in matters of religion Walther apparently was entirely -orthodox, and a pious Christian. He has left a sweet prayer to Christ, -with ample recognition of the angels and the saints, and a beautiful verse -of penitent contrition, in which he confesses his sins to God very -directly--how that he does the wrong, and leaves the right, and fails in -love of neighbour. "Father, Son, may thy Spirit lighten mine; how may I -love him who does me ill? Ever dear to me is he who treats me well!"[26] -Walther's questing spirit also pondered over God's greatness and -incomprehensibility.[27] His open mind is shown by the famous line: "Him -(God) Christians, Jews, and heathen serve,"[28] a breadth of view shared -by his friend Wolfram von Eschenbach, who speaks of the chaste virtue of a -heathen lady as equal to baptism.[29] - -The personal lot of this proud heart was not an easy one; homelessness -broke him down, and the bitterness of eating others' bread. Too well had -he learned of the world and all its changing ways, and how poor becomes -the soul that follows them. Mortality is a trite sorrow; there are worse: -"We all complain that the old die and pass away; rather let us lament -taints of another hue, that troth and seemliness and honour are -dead."[30] At the last Walther's grey memory of life and his vainly -yearning hope took form in a great elegy. After long years he seemed, with -heavy steps, and leaning on his wanderer's staff, to be returning to a -home which was changed forever: "Alas! whither are they vanished, my many -years! Did I dream my life, or is it real? what I once deemed it, was it -that? And now I wake, and all the things and people once familiar, -strange! My playmates, dull and old! And the fields changed; only that the -streams still flow as then they flowed, my heart would break with thinking -on the glad days, vanished in the sea. And the young people! slow and -mirthless! and the knights go clad as peasants! Ah! Rome! thy ban! Our -groans have stilled the song of birds. Fool I, to speak and so -despair,--and the earth looks fair! Up knights again: your swords, your -armour! would to God I might fare with your victor band, and gain my pay -too--not in lands of earth! Oh! might I win the eternal crown from that -sweet voyage beyond the sea, then would I sing O joy! and never more, -alas--never more, alas."[31] - - - - -BOOK V - -SYMBOLISM - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -SCRIPTURAL ALLEGORIES IN THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES; HONORIUS OF AUTUN - - -Words, pictures, and other vehicles of expression are symbols of whatever -they are intended to designate. A certain unavoidable symbolism also -inheres in human mental processes; for the mind in knowing "turns itself -to images," as Aquinas says following Aristotle; and every statement or -formulation is a casting together of data in some presentable and -representative form. An example is the Apostles' Creed, called also by -this very name of Symbol, being a casting together, an elementary formula, -of the essentials of the Christian Faith. In the same sense the "law of -gravitation" or a moral precept is a deduction, induction, or gathering -together into a representative symbol, of otherwise unassembled and -uncorrelated experience. In the present and following chapters, however, -the term symbol will be used in its common acceptation to indicate a -thing, an act, or a word invested with an adventitious representative -significance. All statements or expressions (through language or by means -of pictures) which are intended to carry, besides their palpable meaning, -another which is veiled and more spiritual, are symbolical or figurative, -and more specifically are called allegories.[32] - -These devices of the mind have a history as old as humanity. From -inscrutable beginnings, in time they become recognized as makeshifts; yet -they remain prone to enter new stages of confusion. The mind seeking to -express the transcendental, avails itself of symbols. All religions have -teemed with them, in their primitive phases scarcely distinguishing -between symbol and fact; then a difference becomes evident to -clearer-minded men, while perhaps at the same time others are elaborately -maintaining that the symbol magically is, or brings to pass, that which it -represents. Such obscuring mysticism existed not merely in confused Egypt -and Brahminical India, but everywhere--in antique Greece and Rome, and -then afterwards through the times of the Christian Church Fathers and the -entire Middle Ages. Fact and symbol are seen constantly closing together -and becoming each other like the serpent-souls in the twenty-fifth canto -of Dante's _Inferno_. - -Allegory properly speaking, which involves a conscious and sustained -effort to invest concrete or material statements with more general or -spiritual meaning, played an interesting role in epochs antecedent to the -patristic and mediaeval periods. Even before Plato's time the personal -myths of the gods shocked the Greek ethical intellect, which thereupon -proceeded to convert them into allegories. Greek allegorical -interpretation of ancient myth was apologetic to both the critical mind -and the moral sense. - -With Philo, the Hellenizing Jew of Alexandria, whose philosophy revolted -from the literal text of Genesis, the motive for allegorical -interpretation was similar. But the document before him was most unlike -the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_. Genesis contained no palpably immoral stories -of Jehovah to be explained away. Its account of divine creation and human -beginnings merely needed to be invested with further ethical meaning. So -Philo made cardinal virtues of the four rivers of Eden, and through like -allegorical conceits transformed the Book of Genesis into a system of -Hellenistic ethics. Not cosmogonic myths, but moral meanings, he had -discovered in his document. - -Advancing along the path which Philo found, Christian allegorical -interpretation undertook to substantiate the validity of the Gospel. To -this end it fixed special symbolical meanings upon the Old Testament -narratives, so as to make them into prefigurative testimonies to the truth -of Christian teachings.[33] Allegory was also called on to justify, as -against educated pagans, certain acts of that heroic but peccant "type" of -Christ, David, the son of Jesse. Such special apologetic needs hardly -affected the allegorical interpretation of the Gospel itself, which began -at an early day, and from the first was spiritual and anagogic, constantly -straining on to educe further salutary meaning from the text. - -The Greek and Latin Church Fathers created the mass of doctrine, including -Scriptural interpretation,[34] upon which mediaeval theologians were to -expend their systematizing and reconstructive labours. Through the Middle -Ages, the course of allegory and symbolism strikingly illustrates the -mediaeval way of using the patristic heritage--first painfully learning -it, then making it their own, and at last creating by means of that which -they had organically appropriated. Allegory and symbolism were to impress -the Middle Ages as perhaps no other element of their inheritance. The -mediaeval man thought and felt in symbols, and the sequence of his thought -moved as frequently from symbol to symbol as from fact to fact. - -The allegorical faculty with the Fathers was dogmatic and theological; -ingenious in devising useful interpretations, but oblivious to all -reasonable propriety in the meaning which it twisted into the text: -controversial necessities readily overrode the rational and moral -requirements of the "historical" or "literal" meaning. For the deeply -realized allegorical significance was a law unto itself. These -characteristics of patristic allegory passed over to the Middle Ages, -which in the course of time were to impress human qualities upon the -patristic material. - -The Bathsheba and Uriah episode in the life of David was of course taken -allegorically, and affords a curious example of a patristic interpretation -originating in the exigencies of controversy, and then becoming -authoritative for later periods when the echoes of the old controversy had -long been silent. Augustine was called upon to answer the book of the -clever Manichaean, Faustus, the stress of whose attacks was directed -against the Old Testament. Faustus declared that he did not blaspheme "the -law and the prophets," but rejected merely the special Hebrew customs and -the vile calumnies of the Old Testament writers, imputing shameful acts to -prophets and patriarchs. In his list of shocking narratives to be -rejected, was the story "that David after having had such a number of -wives, defiled the little woman of Uriah his soldier, and caused him to be -slain in battle."[35] - -Augustine responds with a general exclamation at the Manichaean's failure -to understand the sacramental symbols (_sacramenta_) of the Law and the -deeds of the prophets. He then speaks of certain Old Testament statements -regarding God and His demands, and proceeds to consider the nature of sin -and the questionable deeds of the prophets. Some of the reprehended deeds -he justifies, as, for instance, Abraham's intercourse with Hagar and his -deceit in telling Abimelech that Sara was his sister when she was his -wife. He also declares that Sara typifies the Church, which is the secret -spouse of Christ. Proceeding further, he does not justify, but palliates, -the conduct of Lot and his daughters, and then introduces its typological -significance. At length he comes to David. First he gives a noble estimate -of David's character, his righteousness, his liability to sin, and his -quick penitence.[36] Afterwards he considers, briefly as he says, what -David's sin with Bathsheba signifies prophetically.[37] The passage may be -given to show what a mixture of banality and disregard of moral propriety -in drawing analogies might emanate from the best mind among the Latin -Fathers, and be repeated by later transitional and mediaeval commentators. - - "The names themselves when interpreted indicate what this deed - prefigured. David is interpreted 'Strong of hand' or 'Desirable.' And - what is stronger than that Lion of the tribe of Judah that overcame - the world? and what is more desirable than him of whom the prophet - says: 'The desired of all nations shall come' (Hag. ii. 7)? Bathsheba - means 'well of satiety,' or 'seventh well.' Whichever of these - interpretations we adopt will suit. For in Canticles the Bride who is - the Church is called a well of living water (Cant. iv. 15); and to - this well the name of the seventh number is joined in the sense of - Holy Spirit; and this because of Pentecost (the fiftieth), the day on - which the Holy Spirit came. For that same festival is of the weeks - (_de septimanis constare_) as the Book of Tobit testifies. Then to - forty-nine, which is seven times seven, one is added, whereby unity is - commended. By this spiritual, that is 'Seven-natured' (_septenario_) - gift the Church is made a well of satiety; because there is made in - her a well of living water springing up unto everlasting life, which - whoso has shall never thirst (John iv. 14). Uriah, indeed, who had - been her husband, what but devil does his name signify? In whose - vilest wedlock all those were bound whom the grace of God sets free, - that the Church without spot or wrinkle may be married to her own - Saviour. For Uriah is interpreted, 'My light of God'; and Hittite - means 'cut off,' or he who does not stand in truth, but by the guilt - of pride is cut off from the supernal light which he had from God; or - it means, he who in falling away from his true strength which was - lost, nevertheless fashioneth himself into an angel of light (2 Cor. - xi. 14), daring to say: 'My light is of God.' Therefore this David - gravely and wickedly sinned; and God rebuked his crime through the - prophet with a threat; and he himself washed it away by repenting. Yet - likewise He, the desired of all nations, was enamoured of the Church - bathing upon the roof, that is cleansing herself from the filth of the - world, and in spiritual contemplation surmounting and trampling on her - house of clay; and knowledge of her having been had at their first - meeting, He afterwards killed the devil, apart from her, and joined - her to himself in perpetual marriage. Therefore we hate the sin but - will not quench the prophecy. Let us love that (_illum_) David, who is - so greatly to be loved, who through mercy freed us from the devil; and - let us also love that (_istum_) David who by the humility of penitence - healed in himself so deep a wound of sin."[38] - -Augustine's interpretation of the story of David and Bathsheba was -embodied verbatim in a work upon the Old Testament by Isidore of -Seville.[39] The voluminous commentator Rabanus Maurus took the same, also -verbatim, either from Isidore or Augustine.[40] His pupil, Walafrid -Strabo, in his famous _Glossa ordinaria_, cited, probably from Rabanus, -the first part of the passage as far as the reference to the well of -living water from John's Gospel. He abridged the matter somewhat, thus -showing the smoothing compiler's art which was to bring his _Glossa -ordinaria_ into such general use. Walafrid omitted the lines declaring -that Uriah signified the devil. He did cite, however, again probably from -Rabanus, part of a long passage, taken by Rabanus from Gregory the Great, -where Bathsheba is declared to be the letter of the Law, united to a -carnal people, which David (Christ) joins to himself in a spiritual sense. -Uriah is that carnal people, to wit, the Jews.[41] - -Thus far as to the comments on the narrative from the eleventh chapter of -the Second Book of Samuel, otherwise called the Second Book of Kings. When -Rabanus came to explain the sixth verse of the first chapter of -Matthew--"And David begat Solomon from her who was the wife of Uriah"--he -said: "Uriah indeed, that is interpreted 'My light of God,' signifies the -devil, who fashions himself into an angel of light, daring to say to God: -'My light of God,' and 'I will be like unto the Most High' (Isaiah -xiv.)."[42] Here pupil Walafrid follows his master, but adds: "Whose -bewedded Church Christ became enamoured of from the terrace of His -paternal majesty and joined her, made beautiful, to himself in -matrimony."[43] - -With Rabanus and Walafrid, as with Isidore and the Venerable Bede who were -the links between these Carolingians and the Fathers, the interest in -Scripture relates to its allegorical significance. Unmindful of the -obvious and literal meaning of the text, they were unabashed by the -incongruity of their allegorical interpretations.[44] Rabanus, for -instance, had unbounded enthusiasm for Exodus, because of its rich -symbolism: - - "Among the Scriptures embraced in the Pentateuch of the Law, the Book - of Exodus excels in merit; in it almost all the sacraments by which - the present Church is founded, nourished, and ruled, are figuratively - set forth. For there, through the corporeal exit of the children of - Israel from the terrestrial Egypt, our exit from the spiritual Egypt - is made clear. There again, through the crossing of the Red Sea and - the submersion of Pharaoh and the Egyptians, the mystery of Baptism - and the destruction of spiritual enemies are figured. There the - immolation of the typifying lamb and the celebration of the Passover - suggest the passion of the true Lamb and our redemption. There manna - from heaven and drink from a rock are given in order to teach us to - desire the heavenly bread and the drink of life. There precepts and - judgments are delivered to the people of God upon a mountain in order - that we may learn to be subject to supernal discipline. There the - construction of the tabernacle and its vessels is ordered to take - place with worship and sacrifices, that therein the adornment of the - marvellous Church and the rites of spiritual sacrifices may be - indicated. There the perfumes of incense and anointment are prepared, - in order that the sanctification of the Holy Spirit and the mystery of - sacred prayers may be commended to us."[45] - -The same commentator compiled a dictionary of allegories entitled -_Allegoriae in universam sacram scripturam_,[46] saying in his lumbering -Preface: - - "Whoever desires to arrive at an understanding of Holy Scripture - should consider when he should take the narrative historically, when - allegorically, when anagogically, and when tropologically. For these - four ways of understanding, to wit, history, allegory, tropology, - anagogy, we call the four daughters of wisdom, who cannot fully be - searched out without a prior knowledge of these. Through them Mother - Wisdom feeds her adopted children, giving to tender beginners drink in - the milk of history; to those advancing in faith, the food of - allegory; to the strenuous and sweating doers of good works, satiety - in the savoury refection of tropology; and finally, to those raised - from the depths through contempt of the earthly and through heavenly - desire progressing towards the summit, the sober intoxication of - theoretical contemplation in the wine of anagogy.... History, through - the ensample which it gives of perfect men, incites the reader to the - imitation of holiness; allegory, in the revelation of faith, leads to - a knowledge of truth; tropology, in the instruction of morals, to a - love of virtue; anagogy, in the display of everlasting joys, to a - desire of eternal felicity. In the house of our soul, history lays the - foundation, allegory erects the walls, anagogy puts on the roof, while - tropology provides ornament, within through the disposition, without - through the effect of the good work."[47] - -This work, alphabetically arranged, gave the allegorical significations of -words used in the Vulgate, with examples; for instance: - - "_Ager_ (field) is the world, as in the Gospel: 'To the man who sowed - good seed in his field,' that is to Christ, who sows preaching through - the world. - - "_Amicus_ (friend) is Christ, as in Canticles: 'He is my friend, - daughters of Jerusalem,' for He loved His Church so much that He would - die for her.... - - "_Ancilla_ (handmaid) is the Church, as in the Psalms: 'Make safe the - son of thine handmaid,' that is me, who am a member of the Church. - _Ancilla_, corruptible flesh, as in Genesis: 'Cast out the handmaid - and her son,' that is, despise the flesh and its carnal fruit. - _Ancilla_, preachers of the Church, as in Job: 'He will bind her with - his handmaids,'[48] because the Lord through His preachers conquered - the devil. _Ancilla_, the effeminate minds of the Jews, as in Job: - 'Thy handmaids hold me as a stranger,' because the effeminate minds of - the Jews knew me through faith.[49] _Ancilla_, the lowly, as in - Genesis, 'and meal for his handmaids,' because Holy Church affords - spiritual refection to the lowly. - - "_Aqua_ is the Holy Spirit, Christ, subtle wisdom, loquacity, temporal - greed, baptism, the hidden speech of the prophets, the holy preaching - of Christ, compunction, temporal prosperity, adversity, human - knowledge, this world's wealth, the literal meaning carnal pleasure, - eternal reflection, holy angels, souls of the blessed, saints, - humility's lament, the devotions of the saints, sins of the elect - which God condones, knowledge of the heretics, persecutions, unstable - thoughts, the blandishments of temptations, the pleasures of the - wicked, the punishments of hell. - - "_Mons_, mountain (in the singular) the Virgin Mary, _montes_ (in the - plural) angels, apostles, sublime precepts, the two Testaments, inner - meditations, proud men, the Gentiles, evil spirits."[50] - -Thus Rabanus dragged into his compilation every meaning that had ever been -ascribed to the words defined. In him and his contemporaries, the -allegorical material, apart from its utility for salvation, seems void of -human interest or poetic quality, as yet unstirred by a breath of life. -That was to enter, as allegory and all manner of symbolism began to form -the temper of mediaeval thought, and became a chosen vessel of the -mediaeval spirit in poetry and art. The vital change had taken place -before the twelfth century had turned its first quarter.[51] - -There flourished at this time a worthy monk named Honorius of Autun, also -called "the Solitary." It has been argued, and vehemently contradicted, -that he was of German birth. At all events, monk he was and teacher at -Autun. Those about him sought his instruction, and also requested him to -put his discourses into writing for their use; their request reads as if -at that time Honorius had retired from among them.[52] This is all that is -known of the man who composed the most popular handbook of sermons in the -Middle Ages. It was called the _Speculum ecclesiae_. Honorius may never -have preached these sermons; but still his book exists with sermons for -Sundays, saints' days, and other Church festivals; a sermon also to be -preached at Church dedications, and one "sermo generalis," very useful, -since it touched up all orders of society in succession, and a preacher -might take or omit according to his audience. Before beginning, the -preacher is directed to make the sign of the cross and invoke the Holy -Spirit: he is admonished first to pronounce his text of Scripture in the -Latin tongue, and then expound it in the vernacular;[53] he is instructed -as to what portions of certain sermons should be used under special -circumstances, and what parts he may omit in winter when the church is -cold, or when in summer it is too hot; or this is left quite to his -discretion: "Here make an end if you wish; but if time permits, continue -thus." - -Most of these sermons are short, and contain much excellent moral advice -put simply and directly. They also make constant use of allegory, and -evidently Honorius's chief care in their composition was to expound his -text allegorically and point the allegory's application to the needs of -his supposed audience. Neither he nor any man of his time devised many -novel allegorical interpretations; but the old ones had at length become -part of the mediaeval spirit and the regular means of apprehending the -force and meaning of Scripture. Consequently Honorius handles his -allegories more easily, and makes a more natural human application of -them, than Rabanus or Walafrid had done. Sometimes the allegory seems to -ignore the moral lesson of the literal facts; but while a smile may escape -us in reading Honorius, the allegories in his sermons are rarely strained -and shocking, likewise rarely dull. A general point from which he regards -the narratives and institutions of the Old Testament is summed up in his -statement, that for us Christ turned all provisions of the law into -spiritual sacraments.[54] The whole Old Testament has pre-figurative -significance and spiritual meaning; and likewise every narrative in the -Gospels is spiritual. - -Two or three examples will illustrate Honorius's edifying way of using -allegory. His sermon for the eleventh Sunday after Pentecost is typical of -his manner. The text is from the thirty-first[55] Psalm: "Blessed is the -man to whom the Lord will not impute sin." Opening with an exhortation to -penitence and tears and almsgiving, the preacher turns to the -self-righteous "whose obstinacy the Lord curbs in the Gospel for the day, -telling how two went up into the temple to pray, the one a Pharisee, to -wit, one of the Jewish clergy, the other a Publican." After proceeding for -a while with sound and obvious comment on the situation, Honorius says: - - "By the two men who went up into the temple to pray, two peoples, the - Jewish and the Gentile, are meant. The Pharisee who went close to the - altar is the Jewish people, who possessed the Sanctuary and the Ark. - He tells aloud his merits in the temple, because in the world he - boasts of his observance of the law. - - "The Publican who stands afar off is the Gentile people, who were far - off from the worship of God. He did not lift up his eyes to heaven, - because the Gentile was agape at the things of earth. He beat his - breast when he bewailed his error through penitence; and because he - humbled himself in confession, God exalted him through pardon. Let us - also, beloved, thus stand afar off, deeming ourselves unworthy of the - holy sacraments and the companionship of the saints. Let us not lift - up our eyes to heaven, but deem ourselves unworthy of it. Let us beat - our breasts and punish our misdeeds with tears. Let us fall prostrate - before God; and let us weep in the presence of the Lord who made us, - so that He may turn our lament to joy, rend asunder our garb of - mourning, and clothe us with happiness." - -Honorius lingers a moment with some further exhortations suggested by his -parable, and then turns to the edification to be found in fables wisely -composed by profane writers. Let not the congregation be scandalized; for -the children of Israel despoiled the Egyptians of gold and gems and -precious vesture, which they afterwards devoted to completing the -tabernacle. Pious Christians spoil the Egyptians when they turn profane -studies to spiritual account. The philosophers tell of a woman bound to a -revolving wheel, her head now up now down. The wheel is this world's -glory, and the woman is that fortune which depends on it. Again, they tell -of one who tries to roll a stone to the top of a mountain; but, near the -top, it hurls the wretch prostrate with its weight and crashes back to the -bottom; and again, of one whose liver is eaten by a vulture, and, when -consumed, grows again. The man who pushes up the stone is he who -toilsomely amasses dignities, to be plunged by them to hell; and he of the -liver is the man upon whose heart lust feeds. From that pest, they say, -Medusa sprang, with noble form exciting many to lust, but with her look -turning them to stone. She is wantonness, who turns to stone the hearts of -the lewd through their lustful pleasure. Perseus slew her, covering -himself with his crystalline shield; for the strong man, gazing into -virtue's mirror, averts his heart's countenance (_i.e._ from wantonness). -The sword with which he kills her is the fear of everlasting fire. - -Then, continues Honorius, we read of a boy brought up by one of the -Fathers in a hermitage; but as he grew to youth he was tickled with lust. -The Father commanded him to go alone into the desert and pass forty days -in fasting and prayer. When some twenty days had passed, there appeared a -naked woman foul and stinking, who thrust herself upon him, and he, unable -to endure her stench, began to repel her. At which she asked: "Why do you -shudder at the sight of me for whom you burned? I am the image of lust, -which appears sweet to men's hearts. If you had not obeyed the Father, you -would have been overthrown by me as others have been." So he thanked God -for snatching him from the spirit of fornication. Many other examples lead -us to the path of life. - -Honorius closes with the story of the "Three Fools," observed by a certain -Father: the first an Ethiopian who was unable to move a faggot of wood, -which he would continually unbind and make still heavier by adding further -sticks; the second, a man pouring water into a vase which had no bottom; -and, thirdly, the two men who came bearing before them crosswise a beam of -wood; as they neared the city gate neither would let the other precede him -even a little, and so both remained without. The Ethiopian who adds to his -insupportable faggot is he who continually increases his weight of sin, -adding new sins to old ones unrepented of; he who pours water into the -vase with no bottom is he who by his uncleanness loses the merit of his -good acts; and the two who bear the beam crosswise are those bound by the -yoke of Pride.[56] - -Such are good examples of the queer stories to which preachers resorted. -One notices that whatever be the source from which Honorius draws, his -interest is always in the allegory found in the narratives. Another very -apt example of his manner is his treatment of the story of the Good -Samaritan, so often depicted on Gothic church windows. For us this parable -carries an exhaustless wealth of direct application in human life; it was -regarded very differently by Honorius and the glass painters, whose -windows are a pictorial transcription of the first half of his -sermon.[57] - -"Blessed is the man who walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly"--this -is the text; and Honorius proceeds: - - "Adam was the unhappy man who through the counsel of the wicked - departed from his native land of Paradise and dragged all his - descendants into this exile. He thus stood in the way of sinners, - because he remained stable in sin. He sat 'in the seat of the - scornful,' because by evil example he taught others to sin. But Christ - arose, the blessed man who walketh in the counsel of the Father from - the hall of heaven into prison after the lost servant. He did not walk - in the counsel of the ungodly when the devil showed Him all the - kingdoms of the world; He did not stand in the way of sinners, because - He committed no sin; He did not sit in the seat of the scornful, since - neither by word nor deed did He teach evil. Thus as that unhappy man - drew all his carnal children into death, this blessed man brought all - His sons to life. As He himself sets forth in the Gospel: 'A certain - man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and robbers attacked and - wounded him, stripped him and went away. And by chance there came that - way a certain priest, who seeing him half-dead, crossed to the other - side. Likewise a Levite passed by when he had seen him. But a - Samaritan coming that same way, had compassion on the poor wretch, - bound up his wounds and poured in oil and wine, and setting him on his - own beast, brought him to an inn. The next day he gave the innkeeper - two pence and asked that he care for him, and if more was needed He - promised to repay the innkeeper on His return.' - - "Surely man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho when our first parent - from the joys of Paradise entered death's eclipse. For Jericho, which - means moon, designates the eclipse of our mortality. Whereby man fell - among thieves, since a swarm of demons at once surrounded the exile. - Wherefore also they despoiled him, since they stripped him of the - riches of Paradise and the garment of immortality. They gave him - wounds, for sins flowed in upon him. They left him half-dead, because - dead in soul. The priest passed down the same way, as the Order of - Patriarchs proceeded along the path of mortality. The priest left him - wounded, having no power to aid the human race while himself sore - wounded with sins. The Levite went that way, inasmuch as the Order of - Prophets also had to tread the path of death. He too passed by the - wounded man, because he could bear no human aid to the lost while - himself groaning under the wounds of sin. The wretch half-dead was - healed by the Samaritan, for the man set apart through Christ is made - whole. - - "Samaria was the chief city of the Israelitish kingdom whose chiefs - were led away to idolatry in Nineveh, and Gentiles were placed in her. - The Jews abhorred their fellowship, making them a byword of - malediction. So when reviling the Lord, they called Him a Samaritan. - The Lord was the true Samaritan, being called guardian (_custos_) - since the human race is guarded by Him. He went down this way when - from heaven He came into this world. He saw the wounded traveller, - inasmuch as He saw man held in misery and sin. He was moved with - compassion for him, since for man He undergoes all pains. Approaching, - He bound his wounds when, proclaiming eternal life, He taught man to - cease from sin. He bound his wounds together with the two parts of the - bandage when He quelled sins through two fears--the servile fear which - forbids through penalties, and the filial fear which exhorts the holy - to good works. He drew tight the lower part of the bandage when He - struck men's hearts with fear of hell. Their worm, He said, does not - die, and their fire is not quenched. He drew tight the upper part when - He taught the fear which belongs to the study of good. 'The children - of the kingdom,' said He, 'shall be cast into outer darkness, where - there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.' He poured in wine and oil - when He taught repentance and pardon. He poured in wine when He said, - 'Repent ye'; He added oil when He said, 'for the kingdom of heaven is - at hand.' He set him upon His beast when He bore our sins in His body - on the Cross. He led him to the inn when He joined him to the supernal - Church. The inn, in which living beings are assembled at night, is the - present Church, where the just are harboured amid the darkness of this - life until the Day of Eternity blows and the shadows of mortality give - way. - - "The next day He tendered the two pence. The first day was of death, - the next of life. The day of death began with Adam, when all die. The - day of life took its beginning from Christ, in whom all shall be made - alive. Before Christ's resurrection all men were travelling to death; - since His resurrection all the faithful have been rising to life. He - tendered the two pence the next day--when after His resurrection He - taught that the two Testaments were fulfilled by the two precepts of - love. He gave the pence to the innkeeper when He committed the - doctrine of the law of life to the Order of Doctors. He directed him - to tend the sick man when He commanded that the human race should be - saved from sin. The stench drove the sick man from the inn, because - this world's tribulation drives the righteous to seek the things - celestial. Two pence are given to the innkeeper when the Doctors are - raised on high by Scriptural knowledge and temporal honour. If they - should require more, He repays them on His return; for if they - exemplify good preaching with good works, when the true Samaritan - returns to judgment and leads him, aforetime wounded but now healed, - from the inn to the celestial mansion, He will repay the zealous - stewards with eternal rewards."[58] - -Here Honorius proceeds to expound the allegory contained in the healing of -the dumb man and the ten lepers, and closes his sermon with two -narratives, one of a poor idiot who sang the _Gloria_ without ceasing, and -was seen in glory after death; the other of a lay nun (_conversa_) around -whose last hours were shed sweet odours and a miraculous light, while -those present heard the chant of heavenly voices. - -The parables of Christ present types which we may apply in life according -to circumstances. In the concrete instance of the parable we find the -universal, and we deem Christ meant it so. Thus we also view the parables -as symbols, which they were. Honorius, with the vast company of mediaeval -and patristic expounders, ordinarily directs the symbolism of the parables -in a special mode, whereby--like the stories of the Old Testament--they -become figurative of Christ and the needy soul of man, or figurative of -the Christian dispensation with its historical antecedents and its Day of -Judgment at the end. - -The like may be said of Honorius's allegorical interpretation of Greek -legends. These ancient stories have the perennial youth of human charm and -meaning ever new. They had been good old stories to the Greeks, and then -acquired further intendment as later men discerned a broader symbolism in -them. Even in classic times, Homer's stories had been turned to -allegories, philosophers and critics sometimes finding in them a spiritual -significance not unlike that which the same tales may bear for us. But -with this difference: the later Greeks usually were trying to explain away -the somewhat untrammelled ways of the Homeric pantheon, and therefore -maintained that Homer's stories were composed as allegories, the wise and -mystic poet choosing thus to veil his meaning. To-day we find the clarity -of daybreak in Homer's tales, and if we make symbols of them we know the -symbolism is not his but ours. Honorius chooses to think that allegory had -always lain in the old story; he will not deem it the invention of himself -or other Christian writers. Here his attitude is not unlike that of the -apologetic Greek critics. But his interpretations are apt to differ from -theirs as well as from our own. For his symbolism tends to abandon the -broadly human, and to become, like the mediaeval Biblical interpretations, -figurative of the tenets of the Christian Faith. - -There is an interesting example of this in the sermon for Septuagesima -Sunday, which was written on a somewhat blind text from the twenty-eighth -chapter of Job. Honorius proceeds expounding it through a number of -strained allegories, which he doubtless drew from Gregory's _Moralia_; for -that great pope was the recognized expositor of Job, and the Book of Job -was simply Gregory through all the Middle Ages. Perhaps Honorius felt that -this sermon was rather soporific. At all events he stops in the middle to -give a piece of advice to the supposed preacher: "Often put something of -this kind in your sermon; for so you will relieve the tedium." And he -continues thus: - - "Brethren, on this holy day there is much to say which I must pass - over in silence, lest disgusted you should wish to leave the church - before the end. For some of you have come far and must go a long way - to reach your houses. Or perhaps, some have guests at home, or crying - babies; or others are not swift and have to go elsewhere, while to - some a bodily infirmity brings uneasiness lest they expose themselves. - So I omit much for everybody's sake, but still would say a few words. - - "Because to-day, beloved, we have laid aside the song of gladness and - taken up the song of sadness, I would briefly tell you something from - the books of the pagans, to show how you should reject the melody of - this world's pleasures in order that hereafter with the angels you may - make sweet harmonies in heaven. For one should pick up a gem found in - dung and set it as a kingly ornament; thus if we find anything useful - in pagan books we should turn it to the building up of the Church, - which is Christ's spouse. The wise of this world write that there were - three Syrens in an island of the sea, who used to chant the sweetest - song in divers tones. One sang, another piped, the third played upon a - lyre. They had the faces of women, the talons and wings of birds. They - stopped all passing ships with the sweetness of their song; they rent - the sailors heavy with sleep; they sank the ships in the brine. When a - certain duke, Ulysses, had to sail by their island, he ordered his - comrades to bind him to the mast and stuff their ears with wax. Thus - he escaped the peril unharmed, and plunged the Syrens in the waves. - These, beloved, are mysteries, although written by the enemies of - Christ. By the sea is to be understood this age which rolls beneath - the unceasing blasts of tribulations. The island is earth's joy, which - is intercepted by crowding pains, as the shore is beat upon by - crowding waves. The three Syrens who with sweet caressing song - overturn the navigators in sleep, are three delights which soften - men's hearts for vice and lead them into the sleep of death. She who - sings with human voice is Avarice, and to her hearers thus she tunes - her song: 'Thou shouldst get together much, so as to be able to spread - wide thy fame, and also visit the Lord's sepulchre and other places, - restore churches, aid the poor and thy relatives as well.' With such - baneful song she charms the miser's heart, until the sleep of death - oppresses him. Then she tears his flesh, the wave devours the ship, - and the wretch by fierce pains is waked from his riches and plunged in - eternal flame. She who plays upon the pipe is Vainglory (_Jactantia_), - and thus she pipes her lay for hers: 'Thou art in thy youth, and - noble; make thyself appear glorious. Spare no enemies, but kill them - all when able. Then people will call thee a good knight.' Again will - she chant: 'Thou shouldst win Jerusalem, and give great alms. Then - thou wilt be famous, and wilt be called good by all.' To the lay - brethren (_conversis_) she sings: 'Thou must fast and pray always, - singing with loud voice. Then wilt thou hear thyself lauded as a saint - by all.' Such song with vain heart she makes resound till the - whirlpool of death devours the wretch emptied of worth. - - "She who sings to a lyre is Wantonness (_Luxuria_), and she chants - melodies like these to her parasites: 'Thou art in thy youth; now is - the time to sport with the girls--old age will do to reform in. Here - is one with a fine figure; this one is rich; from this one you would - gain much. There is plenty of time to save your soul.' In such way she - melts the hearts of the wanton till Cocytus's waves engulf them - suddenly tripped by death. - - "They have the faces of women, because nothing so estranges man from - God as the love of women. They have wings of birds, because the desire - of worldlings is always unstable, their appetites now craving one - thing, and again their lust flying to another object. They have also - the talons of birds, because they tear their victims as they snatch - them away to the torments of hell. Ulysses is called Wise. Unharmed he - steers his course by the island, because the truly wise Christian - swims over the sea of this world, in the ship of the Church. By the - fear of God he binds himself to the mast of the ship, that is, to the - cross of Christ; with wax, that is with the incarnation of Christ, he - seals the ears of his comrades, that they may turn their hearts from - lusts and vices and yearn only for heavenly things. The Syrens are - submerged, because he is protected from their lusts by the strength - of the Spirit. Unharmed the voyagers avoid the peril, inasmuch as - through victory they reach the joys of the saints."[59] - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -THE RATIONALE OF THE VISIBLE WORLD: HUGO OF ST. VICTOR - - -Just as the Middle Ages followed the allegorical interpretation of -Scripture elaborated by the Church Fathers, so they also accepted, and -even made more precise, the patristic inculcation of the efficacy of such -most potent symbols as the water of baptism and the bread and wine -transubstantiated in the Eucharist.[60] Passing onward from these mighty -bases of conviction, the mediaeval genius made fertile use of allegory in -the polemics of Church and State, and exalted the symbolical principle -into an ultimate explanation of the visible universe. - -Notable was the career of allegory in politics. Throughout the long -struggle of the Papacy with the Empire and other secular monarchies, -arguments drawn from allegory never ceased to carry weight. A very -shibboleth was the witness of the "two swords" (Luke xxii. 38), both of -which, the temporal as well as spiritual, the Church held to have been -entrusted to her keeping for the ordering of earthly affairs, to the end -that men's souls should be saved. Still more fluid was the argumentative -nostrum of mankind conceived as an Organism, or animate body (_unum -corpus, corpus mysticum_). This metaphor was found in more than one of the -Latin classics; but patristic and mediaeval writers took it from the works -of Paul.[61] The likeness of the human body to the body politic or -ecclesiastic was carried out in every imaginable detail, and used acutely -or absurdly by politicians and schoolmen from the eleventh century -onward.[62] - -We turn to the symbolical explanation of the universe. In the first half -of the twelfth century, a profoundly meditative soul, Hugo of St. Victor -by name, attempted a systematic exposition of the symbolical or -sacramental plan inhering in God's scheme of creation. Of the man, as with -so many monks and schoolmen whose names and works survive, little is known -beyond the presentation of his personality afforded by his writings. He -taught in the monastic school of St. Victor, a community that had a story, -with which may be connected the scanty facts of the short and happy -pilgrimage to God, which made Hugo's life on earth.[63] - -When William of Champeaux, according to Abaelard's account, was routed -from his logical positions in the cathedral school of Paris,[64] he -withdrew from the school and from the city to the quiet of a secluded spot -on the left bank of the Seine, not far distant from Notre-Dame. Here was -an ancient chapel dedicated to Saint-Victor, and here William, with some -companions, organized themselves into a monastic community according to -the rule of the canons of St. Augustine. This was in 1108. If for a time -William laid aside his studies and lecturing, he soon resumed them at the -solicitations of his scholars, joined to those of his friend Hildebert, -Bishop of Le Mans.[65] And so the famous school of Saint-Victor began. -William remained there only four years, being made Bishop of Chalons in -1112, and thereafter figuring prominently in Church councils, frequent in -France at this epoch. - -Under William's disciple and successor, Gilduin, the community flourished -and increased. King Louis VI., whose confessor was Gilduin himself, -endowed it liberally, and other donors were not lacking. Saint-Victor -became rich, and its fame for learning and holiness spread far and -wide.[66] Abbot Gilduin lived to see more than forty houses of monks or -regular canons[67] flourishing as dependencies of Saint-Victor. He died in -1155, some years after the death of the young man whose scholarship and -genius was the pride of the Victorine community. - -Notwithstanding a statement in an old manuscript, that Hugo was born near -Ypres in Flanders, the ancient tradition of Saint-Victor, confirmed by the -records of the cathedral of Halberstadt, shows him to have been a son of -the Count of Blankemberg, and born at Hartingam in Saxony.[68] His uncle -Reinhard was Bishop of Halberstadt, where his great-uncle, named Hugo like -himself, was archdeacon. Reinhard had been a pupil of William of Champeaux -at Saint-Victor, and after becoming bishop continued to cherish a profound -esteem for him. The young Hugo renounced his inheritance and entered a -monastery not far from Halberstadt; but soon, in view of the disturbed -affairs of Saxony, his uncle Reinhard urged him to go and pursue his -studies at Saint-Victor. The young man persuaded his great-uncle Hugo to -accompany him. By circuitous routes, visiting various places of pious -interest on the way, the two reached Saint-Victor, where they were -received with all honour by the abbot Gilduin. This was not far from the -year 1115, and Hugo was about twenty at the time. He was already an -accomplished scholar, and doubtless it is to his previous studies that he -refers when he speaks as follows in his book of elementary instruction, -called the _Didascalicon_: - - "I dare say that I never despised anything pertaining to learning, and - learned much that might strike others as light and vain. I practised - memorizing the names of everything I saw or heard of, thinking that I - could not properly study the nature of things unless I knew their - names. Daily I examined my notes of topics, that I might hold in my - memory every proposition, with the questions, objections, and - solutions. I would inform myself as to controversies and consider the - proper order of the argument on either side, carefully distinguishing - what pertained to the office of rhetoric, oratory, and sophistry. I - set problems of numbers; I drew figures on the pavement with charcoal, - and with the figure before me I demonstrated the different qualities - of the obtuse, the acute and the right angle, and also of the square. - Often I watched out the nocturnal horoscope through winter nights. - Often I strung my harp (_Saepe ad numerum protensum in ligno magadam - ducere solebam_) that I might perceive the different sounds and - likewise delight my mind with the sweet notes. All these were boyish - occupations (_puerilia_) but not useless. Nor does it burden my - stomach to know them now."[69] - -Not long after Hugo's arrival at Saint-Victor he began to teach at the -monastery school, and upon the death of its director, in 1133, succeeded -to the office, which he held until his death in 1141.[70] Colourless and -grey are the outer facts of a monk's life, counting but little. The soul -of a Hugo of Saint-Victor did not soil itself with any interest in the -pleasures of the world: "He is not solitary with whom is God, nor is the -power of joy extinguished because his appetite is kept from things abject -and vile. He rather does himself an injustice who admits to the society of -his joy what is disgraceful or unworthy of his love."[71] - -Hugo belonged to the aristocracy of contemplative piety, with its scorn of -whatever lies without the pale of the soul's companionship with God. In -his independent way he followed Augustine, and Augustine's Platonism, -which was so largely the Neo-Platonism of Plotinus and Porphyry. He also -followed the real Plato speaking in the _Timaeus_, with which he was -acquainted. Plato would have nothing to do with allegorical interpretation -as a defence of Homer's gods; but he could himself make very pretty -allegories, and his theory of ideas as at once types and creative -intelligences lent itself to Christian systems of symbolism. In this way -he was a spiritual ancestor of Hugo, who found in God the type-ideas of -all things that He created. Moreover, if not Plato, at least his spiritual -children--Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Plotinus--recognized that the -highest truths must be known in modes transcending reason and its -syllogisms, although these were the necessary avenues of approach. Hugo -likewise regarded rational knowledge as but the path by which the soul -ascends to the plateau of contemplation. The general aspects of his -philosophy will be considered in a later chapter. Here he is to be viewed -as a mediaeval symbolist, upon whom pressed a sense of the symbolism of -all visible things. An examination of his great _De sacramentis -Christianae fidei_ will disclose that with Hugo the material creation in -its deepest verity is a symbol; that Scripture, besides its literal -meaning, is allegory from Genesis to Revelation; that the means of -salvation provided by the Church are sacramental, and thus essentially -symbolical, consisting of perfected and potent symbols which have been -shadowed forth in the unperfected sacramental character of all God's works -from the beginning.[72] - -Hugo's little Preface (_praefatiuncula_) mentions certain requests made to -him to write a book on the Sacraments. In undertaking it, he proposes to -present in better form many things dictated from time to time rather -negligently. Whatever he has taken from his previous writings he has -revised as seemed best. Should there appear any inconsistency between what -he may have said elsewhere and the language of the present work, he begs -the reader to regard the present as the better form of statement. His -method will be to treat his matter in the order of time; and to this end -his work is divided into two Books. The first discusses the subject from -the Beginning of the World until the Incarnation of the Word; the second -continues it from the Incarnation to the final Consummation of all things. -He explains that as he has elsewhere spoken at length upon the primary or -historical meaning of Holy Writ,[73] he will devote himself here rather to -its secondary or allegorical significance. - -Hugo further explains the subject of his treatise in a Prologue: - - "The work of man's restoration is the subject-matter (_materia_) of - all the Scriptures. There are two works, the work of foundation and - the work of restoration, which include everything whatsoever. The - former is the creation of the world with all its elements; the latter - is the incarnation of the Word with all its sacraments, those which - went before from the beginning and those which follow even to the end - of the world. For the incarnate Word is our King, who came into this - world to fight the devil. And all the saints who were before His - coming, were as soldiers going before His face; and those who have - come and will come after, until the end of the world, are as soldiers - who follow their king. He is the King in the centre of His army, - advancing girt by His troops. And although in such a multitude divers - shapes of arms appear in the sacraments and observances of those who - precede and come after, yet all are soldiers under one king and follow - one banner; they pursue one enemy and with one victory are crowned. In - all of this may be observed the work of restoration. - - "Scripture gives first a brief account of the work of creation. For it - could not aptly show how man was restored unless it had previously - explained how he had fallen; nor could it show how he had fallen, - without first showing how God had made him, for which in turn it was - necessary to set forth the creation of the whole world, because the - world was made for man. The spirit was created for God's sake; the - body for the spirit's sake, and the world for the body's sake, so that - the spirit might be subject to God, the body to the spirit, and the - world to the body. In this order, therefore, Holy Scripture describes - first the creation of the world which was made for man; then it tells - how man was made and set in the way of righteousness and discipline; - after that, how man fell; and finally how he was restored - (_reparatus_)." - -In these first little chapters of his Prologue, Hugo has grouped his -topics suggestively. The world was made for man, and therefore the account -of its creation is needed in order to understand man. Moreover, that man's -body exists for his spirit's sake, at once suggests that a significance -beyond the literal meaning is likely to dwell in that account of the -material creation which enables us to understand man. The soul needs -instruction and guidance; and God in creating the world for man surely had -in view his most important interests, which were not those of his mortal -body, but those of his soul. So the creation of the world subserves man's -spiritual interests, and the divine account of it carries spiritual -instruction. The allegorical significance of the world's creation, which -answers to man's spiritual needs, is as veritable and real as the facts of -the world's material foundation, which answers to the needs of his body. -Thus symbolism is rooted in the character and purpose of the material -creation; it lies in the God-implanted nature of things; therefore the -allegorical interpretation of the Scriptures corresponds to their deepest -meaning and the revealed plan of God. - -These principles underlie Hugo's exposition of the Christian sacraments, -whose unperfected prototypes existed in the work of the Creation. No fact -of sacred history, no single righteous pre-Christian observance, was -unaffiliated with them. An adequate understanding of their nature involves -a full knowledge not only of Christian doctrine, but of all other -knowledge profitable to men--as Hugo clearly indicates in the remaining -portion of his Prologue: - - "Whence it appears how much divine Scripture in subtle profundity - surpasses all other writings, not only in its matter but in the way of - treating it. In other writings the words alone carry meaning: in - Scripture not only the words, but the things may mean something. - Wherefore just as a knowledge of the words is needed in order to know - what things are signified, so a knowledge of the things is needed in - order to determine _their_ mystical signification of other things - which have been or ought to be done. The knowledge of words falls - under two heads: expression, and the substance of their meaning. - Grammar relates only to expression, dialectic only to meaning, while - rhetoric relates to both. A knowledge of things requires a knowledge - of their form and of their nature. Form consists in external - configuration, nature in internal quality. Form is treated as number, - to which arithmetic applies; or as proportion, to which music applies; - or as dimension, to which geometry applies; or as motion, to which - pertains astronomy. But physics (_physica_) looks to the inner nature - of things. - - "It follows that all the natural arts serve divine science, and the - lower knowledge rightly ordered leads to the higher. History, _i.e._ - the historical meaning, is that in which words signify things, and its - servants, as already said, are the three sciences, grammar, dialectic, - and rhetoric. When, however, things signify facts mystically, we have - allegory; and when things mystically signify what ought to be done, we - have tropology. These two are served by arithmetic, music, geometry, - astronomy, and physics. Above and beyond all is that divine something - to which divine Scripture leads, either in allegory or tropology. Of - this the one part (which is in allegory) is right faith, and the other - (which is in tropology) is good conduct: in these consist knowledge of - truth and love of virtue, and this is the true restoration of - man."[74] - -Hugo has now stated his position. The rationale of the world's creation -lies in the nature of man. The Seven Liberal Arts, and incidentally all -human knowledge, in handmaidenly manner, promote an understanding of man -as well as of the saving teaching contained in Scripture. This was the -common mediaeval view; but Hugo proves it through application of the -principles of symbolism and allegorical interpretation. By these -instruments he orders the arts and sciences according to their value in -his Christian system, and makes all human knowledge subserve the -intellectual economy of the soul's progress to God. - -An exposition of the Work of the Six Days opens the body of Hugo's -treatise. God created all things from nothing, and at once. His creation -was at first unformed; not absolutely formless, but in the form of -confusion, out of which in the six days He wrought the form of ordered -disposition. The first creation included the matter of corporeal things -and (in the angelic nature) the essence of things invisible; for the -rational creature may be said to be unformed until it take form through -turning unto its Creator, whereby it gains beauty and blessedness from Him -through the conversion which is of love. Thus the matter of every -corporeal thing which God afterwards made, existed from the time of His -first creation, and likewise the image of everything invisible. For -although new souls are still created every day, their image existed -previously in the angelic spirits. - -Then God made light, the unformed material of which He had created in the -beginning. - - "And at the very moment when light was visibly and corporeally - separated from darkness, the good angels were invisibly set apart from - the wicked angels who were falling in the darkness of sin. The good - were illumined and converted to the light of righteousness, that they - might be light and not darkness. Thus we ought to perceive a - consonance in the works of God, the visible work conforming to the - issue of the invisible in such wise that the Wisdom which worked in - both may in the former instruct by an example and in the latter - execute judgment." - -The severance of light from darkness is the material example of how God -executes judgment in dividing the good from the evil. In this visible work -of God a "sacrament" is discernible, since every soul, so long as it is in -sin, is in darkness and confusion. All the visible works of God offer -spiritual lessons (_spiritualia praeferunt documenta_). They have -sacramental qualities, and yet are not perfected and completed sacraments, -as will hereafter appear from Hugo's definition. - -Following the order of creation, Hugo now speaks of the firmament which -God set in the midst of the waters to divide them: - - "He who believes that this was made for his sake will not look for the - reason of it outside of himself. For it all was made in the image of - the world within him; the earth which is below, is the sensual nature - of man, and the heaven above is the purity of his intelligence - quickening to immortal life." - -The rational and unseen are a world as well as the material and visible. -The sacramental quality of the material world lies in its correspondence -to the unseen world. When Hugo speaks of the "sacramenta" in the creation -of light and the waters divided by the firmament, he means that in -addition to their material nature as light and water, they are essentially -symbols. Their symbolism is as veritably part of their nature as the -symbolical character of the Eucharist is part of the nature of the -consecrated bread and wine. The sacraments are among the deepest verities -of the Christian Faith. And the same representative verity that exists in -them, exists, in less perfected mode, throughout God's entire creation. So -the argument carries out the principles of the sacraments and the -principles of symbolism to a full explanation of the world; and Hugo's -work upon the Sacraments presents his theory of the universe. - - "Many other mysteries," says Hugo, closing the first "Part" of his - first Book, "could be pointed out in the work of the creation. But we - briefly speak of these matters as a suitable approach to the subject - set before us. For our purpose is to treat of the sacrament of man's - redemption. The work of creation was completed in six days, the work - of restoration in six ages. The latter work we define as the - Incarnation of the Word and what in and through the flesh the Word - performed, with all His sacraments, both those which from the - beginning prefigured the Incarnation and those which follow to declare - and preach it till the end." - -It is unnecessary to follow Hugo through the discussion, upon which he now -enters, of the will, knowledge, and power of the Trinity, or through his -consideration of the knowledge which man may have of God. In Part V. of -the first Book, he considers the creation of angels, their qualities and -nature, and the reasons why a part of them fell. With Part VI. the -creation of man is reached, which Hugo shows to have been causally prior, -though later in time, to the creation of the world which God made for man. -From love God created rational creatures, the angels purely spiritual, and -man a spirit clothed with earth.[75] Hugo considers the corporeal as well -as the spiritual nature and qualities of man, and his condition before the -Fall. The seventh Part is devoted to the Fall itself, and discusses its -character and sinfulness. - -At length, in the eighth Part, Hugo reaches the true subject of his -treatise, the restoration of man. Man's first sin of pride was followed by -a triple punishment, consisting in a penalty, and two entailed defects, -the penalty being bodily mortality, the defects carnal concupiscence and -mental ignorance. - - "Regarding his reparation three matters are to be considered, the - time, the place, the remedy. The time is the present life, from the - beginning to the end of the world. The place is this world.[76] The - remedy is threefold, and consists in faith, the sacraments, and good - works. Long is the time, that man may not be taken unprepared. Hard is - the place, that the transgressor may be castigated. Efficacious is the - remedy, that the sick one may be healed." - -Hugo then sets forth the situation, the case in court as it were, to which -God, the devil, and man, are the three parties. In this trial - - "... the devil is convicted of an injury to God in that he seduced - God's servant by fraud and holds him by violence. Man also is - convicted of an injury to God in that he despised His command and - wickedly gave himself to evil servitude. Likewise the devil is - convicted of an injury toward man, in first deceiving him and then - bringing evil upon him. The devil holds man unjustly, though man is - justly held." - -Since the devil's case against man was unjust, man might defeat his -lordship; but he needed an advocate (_patronus_), which could be only God. -God, angry at man's sin, did not wish to undertake man's cause. He must be -placated; and man had no equivalent to offer for the injury he had done -Him; for he had deserted God when rational and innocent, and could deliver -himself back to God only as an irrational and sinful creature. Therefore, -in order that man might have wherewithal to placate God, God through -mercy gave man a man whom man might give in place of him who had sinned. -God became man for man and as man gave himself for man. Thus He who had -been man's Creator became also his Redeemer. God might have redeemed man -in some other way, but took the way of human nature as best suited to -man's weakness. - -After our first parent had been exiled from Paradise for his sin, the -devil possessed him violently. But God's providence tempered justice with -mercy, and from the penalty itself prepared a remedy. - - "He set for man as a sign the sacraments of his salvation, in order - that whoever would apprehend them with right faith and firm hope, - might, though under the yoke, have some fellowship with freedom. He - set His edict informing and instructing man, so that whoever should - elect to expect a saviour, should prove his vow of election in - observance of the sacraments. The devil also set his sacraments, that - he might know and possess his own more surely. The human race was at - once divided into opposite parties, some accepting the devil's - sacraments and some the sacraments of Christ.... Hence it is clear, - that from the beginning there were Christians in fact, if not in - name." - -Hugo proceeds to show that the time of the institution of the sacraments -began when our first parent, expelled from Paradise, was subjected to the -exile of this mortal life, with all his posterity until the end. - - "As soon as man had fallen from his first state of incorruption, he - began to be sick, in body through his mortality, in mind through his - iniquity. Forthwith God prepared the medicine of his reparation - through His sacraments. In divers times and places God presented these - for man's healing, as reason and the cause demanded, some of them - before the Law, some under the Law and some under grace. Though - different in form they had the one effect and accomplished the one - health. If any one inquires the period of their appointment he may - know that as long as there is disease so long is the time of the - medicine. The present life, from the beginning to the end of the - world, is the time of sickness and the time of the remedy. When a - sacrament has fulfilled its time it ceases, and others take its place, - to bring about that same health. These in turn have been succeeded at - last by others, which are not to be superseded." - -Having followed Hugo's plan thus far, one sees why it is only at the -commencement of the ninth Part of his first Book that he reaches the -definition and discussion of those final and enduring sacraments which -followed the Incarnation. He has hitherto been developing his theme, and -now takes up its very essence. Laying out the matter scholastically, he -says "there are four things to consider: first, what is a sacrament; -second, why they were instituted; third, what may be the material of each -sacrament, in which it is made and sanctified; and fourth, how many -sacraments there are. This is the definition, cause, material, and -classification." - -Proceeding to the definition, he says that the doctors have briefly -described a sacrament as the token of the sacred substance (_sacrae rei -signum_). - - "For as there is body and soul in man, and in Scripture the letter and - the sense, so in every sacrament there is the visible external which - may be handled and the invisible within, which is believed and taught. - The material external is the sacrament, and the invisible and - spiritual is the sacrament's substance (_res_) or _virtus_. The - external is handled and sanctified; that is the _signum_ of the - spiritual grace, which is the sacrament's _res_ and is invisibly - apprehended." - -Having thus explained the old definition, Hugo objects to it on the ground -that not every _signum rei sacrae_ is a sacrament; the letters of the -sacred text and the pictures of holy things are _signa rei sacrae_, and -yet are not sacraments. He therefore offers the following definition as -adequate: - - "The sacrament is the corporeal or material element set out sensibly, - representing from its similitude, signifying from its institution, and - containing from its sanctification, some invisible and spiritual - grace."[77] - -This, he maintains, is a perfect definition, since all sacraments possess -these three qualities, and whatever lacks them cannot properly be called a -sacrament. As an example he instances the baptismal water: - - "There is the visible element of water, which is the sacrament; and - these three are found in one: representation from similitude, - significance from appointment, virtue from sanctification. The - similitude is from creation, the appointment from dispensation, the - sanctification from benediction. The first is imparted to it through - the Creator, the second is added through the Saviour, the third is - given through the administrator."[78] - -Passing to the second consideration, Hugo finds that the sacraments were -instituted with threefold purpose, for man's humiliation, instruction, and -discipline or exercise. The man contemning them cannot be saved. Yet God -has saved many without them, as Jeremiah was sanctified in the womb, and -John the Baptist, and those who were righteous under the natural law. "For -those who under the natural law possessed the substance (_res_) of the -sacrament in right faith and charity, did not to their damnation lack the -sacrament." And Hugo warns whoever might take a narrower view, to beware -lest in honouring God's sacraments, His power and goodness be made of no -avail. "Dost thou tell me that he who has not the sacraments of God cannot -be saved? I tell thee that he who has the virtue of the sacraments of God -cannot perish. Which is greater, the sacrament or the virtue of the -sacrament--water or faith? If thou wouldst speak truly, answer, 'faith.'" -One notes that the twelfth century had its broad-mindedness, as well as -the twentieth. - -While passing on discursively to consider the classification of the -sacraments, Hugo considers many matters,[79] and then opens his treatment -of the sacraments of the natural law with a recapitulation: - - "The sacraments from the beginning were instituted for the restoration - and healing of man, some under the natural law, some under the - written law, and others under grace. Those which are later in time - will be found more worthy means of spiritual grace. For all those - sacraments of the former time, under the natural or the written law, - were signs and figures of those now appointed under grace. The - spiritual effect of the former in their time was wrought through the - virtue and sanctification drawn from the latter. If any one therefore - would deny that those prior sacraments were effectual for - sanctification, he does not seem to me to judge aright."[80] - -The sacraments of the natural law were as the _umbra veritatis_; those of -the written law as the _imago vel figura veritatis_; but those under grace -are the _corpus veritatis_.[81] The written law, though given fully only -through Moses, began with Abraham, upon whom circumcision was enjoined as -a sacrament and sign of separation from the heathen peoples. In obedience -to its precepts lies the merit, in its promises lies the reward, while its -sacraments aid men to fulfil its precepts and obtain its reward. Hugo -discusses the sacraments of circumcision and burnt-offerings which were -necessary for the remission of sins; then those which exercised the -faithful people in devotion--the peace-offering is an example; and again -those which aided the people to cultivate piety, as the tabernacle and its -utensils. - -Hugo's second Book, which makes the second half of his work, is devoted to -the "time of grace" inaugurated by the Incarnation. It treats in detail -the Christian sacraments and other topics of the Faith, down to the Last -Judgment, when the wicked are cast into hell, and the blessed enter upon -eternal life, where God will be seen eternally, praised without weariness, -and loved without satiety. This blessed lot flows from the grace of the -salvation brought by Christ, and is dependent on the sacraments, the -enduring means of grace. On their part, the sacraments, whatever more they -are, are symbols, in essence and function connected with the symbolical -nature of God's creation, with the prefigurative significance of the -fortunes of God's chosen people until the coming of Christ, with the -import and symbolism of Christ's life and teachings, and with the -symbolism inherent in the organization and building up of Christ's holy -Church. Symbolism and allegory are made part of the constitution of the -world and man; they connect man's body and environment with his spirit, -and link the life of this world with the life to come. Hugo has thus -grounded and established symbolism in the purposes of God, in the -universal scheme of things, and in the nature and destinies of man.[82] - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -CATHEDRAL AND MASS; HYMN AND IMAGINATIVE POEM - - I. GUILELMUS DURANDUS AND VINCENT OF BEAUVAIS. - - II. THE HYMNS OF ADAM OF ST. VICTOR AND THE _Anticlaudianus_ OF ALANUS - OF LILLE. - - -Under sanction of Scriptural interpretation and the sacraments, allegory -and symbolism became accepted principles of spiritual verity, sources of -political argument, and modes of transcendental truth. They penetrated the -Liturgy, charging every sentence and ceremonial act with saving -significance and power; and as plastic influences they imparted form and -matter to religious art and poetry, where they had indeed been potent from -the beginning. - - -I - -In the early Church the office of the Mass, the ordination of priests, and -the dedication of churches were not charged with the elaborate symbolism -carried by these ceremonies in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,[83] -when the Liturgy, or speaking more specifically, the Mass, had become -symbolical from the _introit_ to the last benediction; and Gothic -sculpture and glass painting, which were its visible illustration, had -been impressed with corresponding allegory. Mediaeval liturgic lore is -summed up by Guilelmus Durandus in his _Rationale divinorum officiorum_, -which was composed in the latter part of the thirteenth century, and -contains much that is mirrored in the art of the French cathedrals. It is -impossible to review the elaborate symbolical significance of the Mass as -set forth in the authoritative work of one who was a bishop, theologian, -jurist, and papal regent.[84] But a little of it may be given. - -The office of the Mass, says Durandus, is devised with great forethought, -so as to contain the major part of what was accomplished by and in Christ -from the time when He descended from heaven to the time when He ascended -into heaven. In the sacrifice of the Mass all the sacrifices of the -Ancient Law are represented and superseded. It may be celebrated at the -third hour, because then, according to Mark, Christ ascended the cross, -and at that hour also the Holy Spirit descended upon the Apostles in -tongues of fire; or at the sixth hour, when, according to Matthew, Christ -was crucified; or at the ninth hour, when on the cross He gave up His -spirit. - -The first part of the Mass begins with the _introit_. Its antiphonal -chanting signifies the aspirations and deeds, the prayers and praises of -the patriarchs and prophets who were looking for the coming of the Son of -God. The chorus of chanting clergy represents this yearning multitude of -saints of the Ancient Law. The bishop, clad in his sacred vestments,[85] -at the end of the procession, emerging from the sacristy and advancing to -the altar, represents Christ, the expected of the nations, emerging from -the Virgin's womb and entering the world, even as the Spouse from His -secret chamber. The seven lights borne before him on the chief festivals -are the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit descending upon the head of Christ. -The two acolytes preceding him signify the Law and the Prophets, shown in -Moses and Elias who appeared with Christ on Mount Tabor. The four who bear -the canopy are the four evangelists, declaring the Gospel. The bishop -takes his seat and lays aside his mitre. He is silent, as was Christ -during His early years. The Book of the Gospels lies closed before him. -Around him in the company of clergy are represented the Magi and others. - -The services proceed, every word and act filled with symbolic import. The -reading of the Epistle is reached--that is the preaching of John the -Baptist, who preaches only to the Jews; so the reader turns to the north, -the region of the Ancient Law. The reading ended, he bows before the -bishop, as the Baptist humbled himself before Christ. - -After the Epistle comes the Gradual or _responsorium_, which relates to -penitence and the works of the active life. The Baptist is still the main -figure, until the solemn moment when the Gospel is read, which signifies -the beginning of Christ's preaching. The Creed follows the Gospel, as -faith follows the preaching of the truth. Its twelve parts refer to the -calling of the twelve apostles. Then the bishop begins his sermon; that is -to say, after the calling of the Twelve, the Word of God is preached to -the people, and it henceforth behoves the Church to hold fast to the Creed -which has just been recited.[86] - -The authoritative allegorizing of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries -extended the symbolism of the Mass to the edifice in which it was -celebrated; as the _Rationale_ sets forth in its opening chapter entitled -"De ecclesia et eius partibus." There it is shown that the corporeal -church is the edifice, while the Church, spiritually taken, signifies the -faithful people drawn together from all sorts of men as the edifice is -constructed of all sorts of stones. The various names ecclesia, synagogue, -basilica, and tabernacle are explained; and then why the Church is called -the Body of Christ, and also Virgin, also Spouse, Mother, Daughter, Widow, -and indeed Meretrix, as it shuts its bosom against no one seeking it. The -form of the church conforms to that of Solomon's temple, in the anterior -part of which the people heard and prayed, while the clergy prayed and -preached, gave thanks and ministered, in the sanctuary or sacred place. -Solomon's temple in turn was modelled on the Tabernacle of the Exodus, -which, because it was constructed on a journey, is the type of the world -which passes away and the lust thereof. It was made with the four colours -of the arch of heaven, as the world consists of the four elements. Since -God is in the world, He is in the tabernacle (which also means the Church -militant) and in the midst of the faithful congregation. The anterior part -of the tabernacle, where the people sacrificed, is also the _Vita activa_, -in which the laity labour in neighbourly love; and the portion where the -Levites ministered is the _Vita contemplativa_. - -The church should be erected in the following manner: the place of its -foundation should be made ready--well-founded is the house of the Lord -upon a rock--and the bishop or licensed priest should sprinkle it with -holy water to dispel the demons, and should lay the first stone, on which -should be carved a cross. The head of the church, that is the chancel, -should be set toward the rising sun at the time of the equinox. Now if the -Jews were commanded to build walls for Jerusalem, how much more ought we -to build the walls of our churches? The material church signifies the Holy -Church built of living stones in heaven, with Christ the corner-stone, -upon which are set the foundations of Apostles and Prophets. The walls -above are the Jews and Gentiles, who believing come to Christ from the -four quarters of the world. The faithful people predestined to life are -the stones thereof. - -The mortar in which the stones are set is made of lime, sand, and water. -Lime is fervent love, which takes to itself the sand, that is, earthly -toil; then water, which is the Spirit, unites the lime and sand. As the -stones of the wall would have no stability without the mortar, so men -cannot be set in the walls of the heavenly Jerusalem without love, which -the Holy Spirit brings. The stones of the wall are hewn and squared, which -means sanctified and made clean. Some stones are borne, but do not -themselves bear any burden, and these are the feeble in the Church. Other -stones are borne, yet also bear; while still others bear, but are not -borne, save by Christ alone, the one foundation; and the last are the -perfect. - -The Jews were subject to hostile attack while building the walls of -Jerusalem,[87] so that with one hand they set stones, while they fought -with the other. Likewise are we surrounded by hostile vices as we build -the walls of the Church; but we oppose them with the shield of faith and -the breastplate of righteousness, and the sword of the Word of God in our -hands. - -The church edifice is disposed like the human body. The chancel, where the -altar is, represents the head, and the cross (transept) the arms and -hands. The western portion (nave and aisles) is the rest of the body. But -indeed Richard of St. Victor deems that the three parts of the edifice -represent in order of sanctity, first the virgins, then the continent, and -lastly married people. - -Again, the Church is built with four walls; that is, by the teaching of -the four evangelists it rises broad and high into the altitude of the -virtues. Its length is the long-suffering with which it endures adversity; -its breadth is love, with which it embraces its friends in God, and loves -its enemies for His sake; its height is the hope of future reward. Again, -in God's temple the foundation is faith, which is as to what is not seen; -the roof is charity, which covers a multitude of sins. The door is -obedience--keep the commandments if thou wilt enter into life.[88] The -pavement is humility. The four walls are the four virtues, righteousness, -(_justitia_), fortitude, prudence, and temperance. The windows are glad -hospitality and free-handed pity. - -Some churches are cruciform, to teach us that we are crucified to the -world, or should follow the Crucified. Some are circular, which signifies -that the Church is spread through the circle of the world. - -The apse signifies the faithful laity; the crypts, the hermits. The nave -signifies Christ, through whom lies the way to the heavenly Jerusalem; the -towers are the preachers and prelates, and the pinnacles represent the -prelates' minds which soar on high. Also a weather-cock on top of the -church signifies the preachers, who rouse the sleeping from the night of -sin, and turning ever to the wind, resist the rebellious. The iron rod -upholding the cock is the preacher's sermon; and because this rod is -placed above the cross on the church, it indicates the word of God -finished and confirmed, as Christ said in His passion, "It is finished." -The lofty dome on which the cross is set, signifies how perfect and -inviolate should be the preaching and observance of the Catholic Faith. - -The glass windows of the church are the divine Scriptures, which repel the -wind and rain, but admit the light of the true sun, to wit God, into the -church, that is, into the hearts of the faithful. The windows also signify -the five senses of the body.[89] - -The door of the church (again) is Christ--"I am the Door"; the doors are -also the Apostles. The pillars are the bishops and doctors; their bases -are the apostolic bishops; their capitals are the minds of the doctors and -bishops. The pavement is the foundation of faith, and also signifies the -"poor in spirit," also the common crowd by whose labours the church is -upheld. The rafters are the princes and preachers in the world, who defend -the church by deed and word. The seats in a church are the contemplative -in whom God rests without offence. The panels in the ceiling are also -preachers who adorn and strengthen. - -The chancel, the head of the church, by being lower than the rest, -indicates how great should be the humility of the clergy. The screens by -which the altar is separated from the choir signify the separation of -heavenly beings from things of earth. The choir stalls indicate the body's -need of recreation. The pulpit is the life of the perfect. The horologe -signifies the diligence with which the priests should say the canonical -hours. The tiles of the roof are the knights who protect the church from -pagans. The spiral stairways concealed within the walls are the secret -knowledge had only by those who ascend to the heavenly places. The -sacristy, where the holy utensils are kept and the priest puts on his -vestments, signifies the womb of the most holy Virgin, in which Christ put -on His sacred garb of flesh. From thence the priest emerges before the -public, as Christ went forth from the Virgin's womb into the world. The -lamp signifies Christ, who is the light of the world; or the lamps -signify the Apostles and other doctors, whose doctrine lights the church. -Moses also made seven lights, which are the seven gifts of the Holy -Spirit. - -Durandus next devotes a whole chapter to the symbolism of the altar, and -another to the significance and function of ornaments, pictures, and -sculpture. The latter opens with the words: "The pictures and ornaments in -a church are the texts and scriptures (_lectiones et scripturae_) of the -laity." This chapter is long; it explains how Christ and the angels, also -saints, Apostles and others, should be represented, and describes the -proper kinds of church ornament and utensils. Much of the detail is -symbolical. - -Thus Durandus devised or brought together meanings to fit each bit of the -church edifice, its materials and furnishings. In the work of a -contemporary are stored the allegorical meanings of the subjects of Gothic -sculpture and painted glass. The thirteenth century had a weakness for the -word "Speculum," and the idea it carried of a mirror or compendium of all -human knowledge. The chief of mediaeval encyclopaedists was Vincent of -Beauvais, a _protege_ of the saintly King Louis IX. An analysis of his -huge _Speculum majus_ is given elsewhere.[90] It was made up of the Mirror -of Nature, the Mirror of human Knowledge and Ethics, and the Mirror of -History. The compiler and his assistants laboured during the best period -of Gothic art, and from their work, industry may draw an exhaustive -commentary upon the series of topics presented by the sculpture and glass -of a cathedral.[91] - -The Mirror of Nature appears carved in the sculpture of Chartres or -Bourges. In rendering the work of the Six Days, the Creator is shown -(under the form of Christ)[92] contemplating His work, or resting from -His toil; here and there a lion, sheep, or goat, suggests the animal -creation, and a few trees the vegetable world. This is the necessary -symbolism of the sculptor's art. But Gothic animals and plants sometimes -have other definite symbolic meanings, as in the instance of the -well-known signs of the four Evangelists, the man, the lion, the ox, the -eagle. The allegorical interpretations of Scripture were an exhaustless -source of symbolism for Gothic sculptors; another was the _Physiologus_ -and its progeny of Bestiaries, with their symbolic explanations of the -legendary attributes of animals. Intentional symbolism, however, did not -inhere in all this carving, much of which is sheer fancy and decoration. -Such was the character of the splendid Gothic flora, of the birds and -beasts that move in it, and of the grotesque monsters. They were not out -of place, since the Gothic cathedral was itself a Speculum or Summa, and -should include the whole of God's creation, not omitting even the devils -who beset men's souls. - -Vincent may have drawn from Hugo of St Victor the current doctrine that -the arts have part in the work of man's restoration; a doctrine abundantly -justifying the presence of the sciences and crafts (composing the Mirror -of Knowledge) in the sculpture and painting of the cathedral. There the -Seven Liberal Arts are rendered, through allegorical figures; and the -months of the year are symbolized in the Zodiac and the labours of the -field which make up man's annual toil. Philosophy is shown and Fortune's -wheel; the Virtues and Vices are represented in personifications, and even -their conflict, the Psychomachia, may be shown. - -At last the Mirror of History is reached. This will teach in concrete -examples what has been learned from the figures of the abstract Virtues -and Vices. Its chief source is the Bible. Those Old Testament incidents -were selected which for centuries had been interpreted as prefigurements -of the life of Christ; and each was presented as a pendant to the Gospel -scene which it typified. These make the chief subjects of the coloured -glass of Chartres and Bourges and other cathedrals where the windows are -preserved. Here may be seen the Passion of Christ, surrounded by scenes -from the Old Testament typifying it; likewise His Resurrection and its -ancient types; and other significant incidents in the life of the Saviour -and His virgin mother.[93] The latter is typified by the burning bush, by -the fleece of Gideon, by the rod of Aaron, even as in the hymns of Adam of -Saint-Victor.[94] Besides these incidents, leading personages of the Old -Testament are presented as prefigurative of Christ, as in the great series -of statues of Melchizedek, Abraham, Moses, Samuel, David, on the north -portal of Chartres; while the four greater and twelve minor prophets are -shown as types of the four Evangelists and the twelve Apostles. Christ -himself is depicted on a window at St. Denis, between the allegorical -figures of the Ancient Law and the Gospel,--figures which are allied to -those of the uncrowned and blinded Synagogue and the triumphant Church, so -frequently seen together upon cathedrals. Everywhere the tendency to -symbolize is strong. Parts of the Crucifixion scene are rendered -symbolically, and many of the parables. That of the Good Samaritan -constantly appears upon the windows, and is always designed so as to -convey the allegorical teaching drawn from it in Honorius's sermon.[95] - -Obviously this Mirror of History was chiefly sacred history. Pagan -antiquity was scantily suggested by the Sibyls, who stand for the dumb -pagan prophecy of Christ. Scenes from the history of Christian nations -were more frequent; but they always told of some victory for Christ, like -the baptism of Clovis, or the crusading deeds of Charlemagne, Roland or -Godfrey of Bouillon. God's drama closed with the Last Judgment, the -damnation of the damned and the beatitude of the elect. The Last -Judgments, usually over-arching the tympanums above cathedral doors, are -known to all--as at Rheims, at Chartres, at Bourges. They are full of -symbolism, and full of "historic" reality as well. The treatment becomes -entirely allegorical when the sculptor enters Paradise with the redeemed, -and portrays in lovely personifications the beatitudes of the blessed, as -on the north portal of Chartres. - -Those bands of nameless men who carved the statues and designed the -coloured glass which were to make Gothic cathedrals speak, faithfully -presented the teachings of the Church. They rendered the sacred drama of -mankind's creation, fall, redemption, and final judgment unto hell or -heaven: they rendered it in all its dogmatic symbolism, and with a plastic -adequacy showing how completely they thought and felt in the allegorical -medium in which they worked. They also created matchless ideals of -symbolism in art. The statuary of the portals and facades of Rheims and -Chartres are in their way comparable to the sculptures of the pediment of -the Parthenon. But unlike those masterpieces of antique idealism, these -Christian masterpieces do not seek to set forth mortal man in his natural -strength and beauty and completeness. Rather they seek to show the working -of the human spirit held within the power and grace of God. Theirs is not -the strength and beauty of the flesh, or the excellence of the -unconquerable mind of man; but in them man's mind and spirit are palpably -the devout creatures of God's omnipotence, obedient to His will, sustained -and redeemed by His power and grace. Attitude, form, feature, alike -designed to express the sacred beauty of the soul, are not invested with -physical excellence for its own sake; but every physical quality of these -statues is a symbol of some holy and beautiful quality of spirit. These -statues attain a symbolic, and not a natural, ideal in art. Yet many of -them possess the physical beauty of form and feature, inasmuch as such may -be the proper envelope for the chaste and eager soul.[96] - -On the other hand, in the filling out of the illustrative detail of life -on earth, of handicraft and art, the sculptor showed how he could carve -these actualities, and present earth's beauty in the cathedral's wealth of -vine and flower and leaf. The level commonplace of humanity is deftly -rendered, the daily doings of the forge and field and market-place, the -tugging labourer, the merchant with his stuffs, the scholar with his -scrolls. He knew life well, this artist, and had an eye for every catching -scene, also for Nature's subtle beauties. Sometimes a certain passing show -was represented because a window was given by some drapers' guild, -desirous of seeing its craft shown in a place of honour; and the artist -loved his scenes from busy life, as he loved his ornament from Nature. -Such scenes (which rarely held specific allegory) were not unconnected -with the rest of the drama of creation and redemption mirrored in the -cathedral, nor was the exquisitely cut leaf and rose without its -suggestion of the grace incarnate in the Virgin and her Son. Daily life -and natural ornament had at least an illustrative pertinency to the whole, -of which they were unobtrusive and lovely elements; and since that whole -was primarily a visible symbol of the unseen and divine power, these -humble elements had part in its unutterable mystery, and were likewise -symbols. - -Finally, have not these nameless artists--even as Dante and our English -Bunyan--presented by their art a synthesis of life's realities? Their feet -were on the earth; with sympathy and knowledge their hands worked in the -media of things seen and handled, and fashioned the little human matters -which are bounded by the cradle and the grave. Such were the materials -from which Dante formed his _Commedia_, and Bunyan drew the Progress of -his Pilgrim soul to God. Yet as with Bunyan and Dante, so with these -artists in stone and coloured light, the mortal and the tangible were but -the elements through which the poem or story, or the carved or painted -picture, was made the realizing symbol of the unseen and eternal Spirit. - - -II - -Beneath the Abbey Church of Saint-Victor there was a crypt consecrated to -the Mother of God. Here a certain monk was wont to retire and compose -hymns in her honour. One day his lips uttered the lines: - - "Salve, mater pietatis, - Et totius Trinitatis - Nobile triclinium; - Verbi tamen incarnati - Speciale majestati - Praeparans hospitium!" - -Whereupon a flood of light filled the crypt, and the Virgin, appearing to -him, inclined her head. - -The monk's name was Adam,[97] and he is deemed the best of Latin -hymn-writers. Breton born, he entered Saint-Victor in his youth, about the -year 1130. He was favoured with the instruction of Hugo till the master's -death in 1141. Adam must have been of nearly the same age as Richard of -Saint-Victor, that other pupil of Hugo who makes the third member of the -great Victorine trio. Their works have been the monastery's fairest fame. -Hugo was a Saxon; Adam a Breton; Richard was Scotch. So Saint-Victor drew -her brilliant sons from many lands. Richard, whose writings worthily -supplemented those of his master Hugo,[98] died in 1173; his friend Adam -outlived him, and died an old man as the twelfth century was closing. He -was buried in the cloister, and over him was placed an elegiac epitaph -upon human vanity and sin, in part his own composition. - -Adam's hymns were Sequences[99] intended for church use. Their author was -learned in Christian doctrine, skilled in the Liturgy, and saturated with -the spirit of devotional symbolism. His symbolism, which his gift of verse -made into imagery, was that of the mediaeval church and its understanding -of the Liturgy; he also shows the special influence of Hugo. Adam's hymns, -with their powerful Latin rhymes, cannot be reproduced in English; but a -translation may give the contents of their symbolism. The hymn for Easter, -beginning "Zyma vetus expurgetur,"[100] is an epitome of the symbolic -prefiguration of Christ in the Old Testament. Each familiar allegorical -interpretation flashes in a phrase. Literally translated, or rather -maltreated, it is as follows: - - "Let the old leaven be purged away that a new resurrection may be - celebrated purely. This is the day of our hope; wonderful is the power - of this day by the testimony of the law. - - "This day despoiled Egypt, and liberated the Hebrews from the fiery - furnace; for them in wretched straits the work of servitude was mud - and brick and straw.[101] - - "Now as praise of divine virtue, of triumph, of salvation, let the - voice break free! This is the day which the Lord made, the day ending - our grief, the day bringing salvation. - - "The Law is the shadow of things to come, Christ the goal of promises, - who completes all. Christ's blood blunts the sword the guardians - removed.[102] - - "The Boy, type of our laughter, in whose stead the ram was slain, - seals life's joy.[103] Joseph issues from the pit;[104] Christ returns - above after death's punishment. - - "This serpent devours the serpents of Pharaoh secure from the - serpent's spite.[105] Whom the fire wounded, them the brazen serpent's - presence freed.[106] - - "The hook and ring of Christ pierce the dragon's jaw;[107] the sucking - child puts his hand into the cockatrice's den, and the old tenant of - the world flees affrighted.[108] - - "The mockers of Elisha ascending the house of God, feel the - bald-head's wrath;[109] David, feigning madness, the goat cast forth, - and the sparrow escape.[110] - - "With a jaw-bone Samson slays a thousand and spurns the marriage of - his tribe. Samson bursts the bars of Gaza, and, carrying its gates, - scales the mountain's crest.[111] - - "So the strong Lion of Judah, shattering the gates of dreadful death, - rises the third day; at His father's roaring voice, He carries aloft - His spoils to the bosom of the supernal mother.[112] - - "After three days the whale gives back from his belly's narrow house - Jonas the fugitive, type of the true Jonas. The grape of Cyprus[113] - blooms again, opens and grows apace. The synagogue's flower withers, - while flourishes the Church.[114] - - "Death and life fought together: truly Christ arose, and with Him many - witnesses of glory. A new morn, a glad morn shall wipe away the tears - of evening: life overcame destruction; it is a time of joy. - - "Jesu victor, Jesu life, Jesu life's beaten way, thou whose death - quelled death, bid us to the paschal board in trust. O Bread of life, - O living Wave, O true and fruitful Vine, do thou feed us, do thou - cleanse us, that thy grace may save us from the second death. Amen." - -From the time of that old third-century hymn ascribed to Clement of -Alexandria,[115] hymns to Christ had been filled with symbolism, the -symbolism of loving personification of His attributes, as well as with the -more formal symbolism of His Old Testament prefigurements. Adam's -symbolism is of both kinds. It has feeling even when dogmatic,[116] and -throbs with devotion as its theme approaches the Gospel Christ. Prevailing -modes of thought and feeling may prescribe topics for verse which a -succeeding age will find curiously unpoetic. Yet if the later time have a -sympathetic understanding for the past, it will recognize how fervid and -how songful was that bygone verse--the verse of Adam's hymns, for -instance. In one for Christmas Day, beginning: - - "Potestate, non natura, - Fit Creator creatura,"[117] - -a stanza touches on the reason why the Creator thus became creature. It -would be impossible to render its feeling in English, and much -circumlocution would be needed to express even its literal meaning in any -language but mediaeval Latin. This stanza has twelve lines: - - "Causam quaeris, modum rei: - Causa prius omnes rei, - Modus justum velle Dei, - Sed conditum gratia." - - "Thou askest cause and _modus_ of the fact: the _causa rei_ was before - all, the _modus_ was God's righteous willing, but seasoned with - grace." - -These lines are scholastic. In the next four, the feeling begins to rise, -yet the phrases repel rather than attract us: - - "O quam dulce condimentum - Nobis mutans in pigmentum, - Cum aceto fel cruentum - Degustante Messya!" - - "Oh! how sweet the condiment changing for us into juice, as the - Messiah tastes the bloody gall and vinegar." - -The feeling touches its climax with the four concluding lines, in which -the parable of the Good Samaritan is invested with the special allegorical -significance set forth in the sermon of Honorius:[118] - - "O salubre sacramentum, - Quod nos ponit in jumentum - Plagis nostris dans unguentum - Ille de Samaria." - - "O health-giving sacrament which sets us on a beast, giving ointment - for our stripes,--he of Samaria."[119] - -Two stanzas from another of Adam's Christmas hymns will show how -curiously intricate could be his symbolism. Having spoken of the ineffable -wonder of the Incarnation, he proceeds: - - "Frondem, florem, nucem sicca - Virga profert, et pudica - Virgo Dei Filium. - Fert coelestem vellus rorem, - Creatura creatorem, - Creaturae pretium. - - "Frondis, floris, nucis, roris - Pietati Salvatoris - Congruunt mysteria. - Frons est Christus protegendo, - Flos dulcore, nux pascendo, - Ros coelesti gratia."[120] - - "A dry rod puts forth leafage, flower, nut,[121] and a chaste Virgin - brings forth the Son of God. A fleece bears heavenly dew,[122] a - creature the Creator, the creature's price. - - "The mysteries of leafage, flower, nut, dew are suited to the - Saviour's tender love (_pietas_). The foliage by its protecting is - Christ, the flower is Christ by its sweetness, the nut as it yields - food, the dew by its celestial grace." - -One observes that here the symbolism first touches Christ's birth, the dry -rod and the fleece representing the Virgin. Then the leafage, flower, nut -and dew typify His qualities. The remaining stanzas of this hymn carry out -in further detail the symbolism of the nut. - -Besides the hymns devoted to the Saviour, the greater part of Adam's hymns -are symbolical throughout. Those written for the dedication of churches -are among the most interesting. One beginning "Quam dilecta -tabernacula"[123] sketches the Old Testament facts which prefigure -Christ's holy Church. The keynote is in the lines: - - "Quam decora fundamenta - Per concinna sacramenta - Umbra praecurrentia!" - - "How seemly the foundations through the appropriate sacraments, the - forerunning shadow." - -The shadow is the Old Testament, and these three lines sum up the teaching -of Hugo as to the sacramental nature of the Old Testament narratives. -Throughout this hymn Adam follows Hugo closely.[124] In another dedicatory -hymn[125] Adam gives the prefigurative meaning of the parts of Solomon's -temple. There is likewise much symbolism in the grand hymns addressed to -the Virgin. One for the festival of the Assumption[126] gives the figures -of the Virgin in the Old Testament--the throne of Solomon, the fleece of -Gideon, the burning bush. Then with more feeling the metaphorical epithets -pour forth, voicing the heart's gratitude to the Virgin's saving aid to -man. A still more splendid example of like symbolism and ardent metaphor -is the great hymn beginning: - - "Salve mater Salvatoris, - Vas electum, vas honoris," - -which won the Virgin's greeting for the poet.[127] - -The lives of Honorius, of Hugo, of Adam, from whose works we have been -drawing illustrations of mediaeval symbolism, vie with each other in -obscurity; and properly enough since they were monks, for whom -self-effacement is becoming. This personal obscurity culminates with one -last example to be drawn from monastic sources. The man himself was an -impressive figure in his time; a sight of him was not to be forgotten: he -was called _magnus_ and _doctor universalis_. Nevertheless it has been -questioned whether he lived in the twelfth or the thirteenth century, and -whether one man or two bore the name of Alanus de Insulis. - -There was in fact but one, and he belongs to the twelfth century, dying -almost a centenarian, in the year 1202. The cognomen _de Insulis_ has also -been an enigma. From it he has been dubbed a Sicilian, and then a Scot, -born on the island of Mona. But the name in reality refers to the chief -town of Flanders, which is called Lisle; and Alanus doubtless was a -Fleming. - -He became a learned man, and lectured at Paris. That he was possessed with -no small opinion of his talents would appear from the legend told of him -as well as of St. Augustine. He had announced that on a certain day in a -single lecture he would set forth the complete doctrine of the mystery of -the most Holy Trinity. The afternoon before the day appointed, he walked -by the river, thinking how he should arrange his subject so as to include -it all. He chanced upon a child who was dipping up the river water with a -snail shell and dropping it into a little trench. Smiling, he asked what -should be the object of this; and the child told him that he was putting -the whole river into his trench. As the great scholar was explaining that -this could not be done, he suddenly felt himself chidden and taught--how -much less might he perform what he had set for the next morning. He stood -speechless at his presumption, and burst into tears. The next day -ascending the platform he said to the crowd of auditors, "Let it suffice -you to have seen Alanus";[128] and with that he left them all astonished, -and himself hastily set out for Citeaux. On arrival he asked to be -admitted as a _conversus_, and was given charge of the monastery's sheep. -Patient and unknown, he long plied this humble vocation. But at length it -chanced that the abbot took him to a council at Rome, in the capacity of -hostler. And there he beat down the arrogance of a heretic with such -arguments that the latter cried out that he was disputing either with the -devil or Alanus, and would say no more. - -Such is one story. By another he is made to seek the monastery of -Clairvaux, and there become a monk under St. Bernard. It is also written -that he became an abbot, and then a bishop, but afterwards resigned his -bishopric. However all this may have been, he died and was buried, and was -subjected to many epitaphs. On what purports to be an old copy of his tomb -at Citeaux, he is shown with St. Bernard, and called Alanus Magnus. The -title _Doctor universalis_ has always clung to his memory, which will not -altogether fade. For if Adam of Saint-Victor was the greatest of Latin -mediaeval hymn-writers, Alanus has good claim to be called the greatest of -mediaeval Latin poets in the field of didactic and narrative poetry.[129] - -The many works ascribed to Alanus include an allegorical Commentary on -Canticles, a treatise on the art of preaching, a book of _sententiae_, -another of _theologicae regulae_, sundry sermons, and a lengthy work -"contra haereticos"; also a large dictionary of Biblical allegorical -interpretations, entitled _Liber in distinctionibus dictionum -theologicalium_.[130] All these are prose. He composed besides his _Liber -de planctu naturae_,[131] and his _Anticlaudianus_, a learned and -profound, and likewise highly imaginative allegorical poem upon man.[132] -Its Preface in prose casts a curious light upon the author's enigmatical -personality, which combined the wonted or conventional humility of a monk -with the towering self-consciousness of a man of genius. - - "The lightning scorns to spend its force on twigs, but breaks the - proud tops of exalted trees. The wind's imperious rage passes over the - reed and drives the assaults of its wild blasts against the highest - summits. Wherefore let not envy's flame strike the pinched humility of - my work, nor detraction's breath overwhelm the driven poverty of my - little book, where misery's wreck demands a port of pity, far more - than felicity provokes the sting of spite." - -More sentences of turgid deprecation follow, and the author begs the -reader not to approach his book with disgust and irritation, but with -pleasant anticipations of novelty (not all a monk speaks here!). - - "For although the book may not bloom with the purple vestment of - flowering speech, nor shine with the constellated light of the - flashing period, still in the tenuity of the fragile reed the honey's - sweetness may be found, and parched thirst can be tempered with the - scant water of a rill. In this book let nothing be made vulgar - (_plebescat_) with ribaldry, nor let anything be open to biting - reproof, as if it smacked of the coarseness of the moderns [to whom - does he refer?]; but let the flower of my talent be presented, and the - dignity of diligence; for pigmy humility, thus raised upon a height, - may overtop the giant. Let not those dare to tire of this work, who - are squalling in the cradles of elementary instruction, sucking milk - from nurses' paps; nor let those seek to cry it down, who are pledged - to the service of the higher learning; nor those presume to discredit - it, who strike heaven from the top-notch of philosophy. For in this - work, the sweetness of the literal meaning will tickle the puerile - ear; moral teaching will instruct the more proficient understanding; - and the finer subtilty of allegory will sharpen the finished - intellect. Wherefore let all those be kept from ingress who, abandoned - to the mirrors of the senses, are not charioteered by reason, and, - pursuing the sense-image, have no appetite for reason's truth,--lest - indeed what is holy be defiled by dogs, and the pearl be trampled by - the feet of swine. But such as will not suffer the things of reason to - rest with the base images, and dare to lift their view to forms - divine, may thread the narrow passes of my book, while they weigh with - discretion's scales what is suited to the common ear, and what should - be buried in silence." - -This Preface of strained sentence and laboured metaphor, of forced -humility and overweening self-consciousness, hardly augurs well for the -poem of which it is the prelude. But prefaces are authors' pitfalls, and, -moreover, many writers have floundered in one medium of speech while in -another they have moved with ease. From the ungainly prose of the -_Persones Tale_, no one would expect the ease and force of Chaucer's -verse. And the reader of Alanus's Preface need not be discouraged from -entering upon his poem. Its subject is man; its philosophic or religious -purpose is to expound the functions of God, of Nature, of Fortune, of -Virtue and Vice, in making man and shaping his career. The poem is an -allegory, original in its general scheme of composition, but in many of -its parts following earlier allegorical writings. - -The opening lines tell of Nature's solicitude to bestow her gifts so that -the finished work may present a fair harmony: as a patient workman she -forges, trims and files, and fashions with reason's chisel. But when she -seeks to invest her work with qualities beyond her giving, she is obliged -to call on the Celestial Council of her Sisters. Responding, pilgrim-like -the Crown of Heaven's soldiery comes from on high, brightens the earth -with its light, and clothes the ground with blessed footprints. - -Leading this galaxy, Concord advances, foster-child of Peace; then Plenty -comes, and Favour, and Youth with favour anointed, and Laughter, banisher -of mental mists; then Shame and Modesty, and Reason the measure of good, -and Honesty, Reason's happy comrade; then Dignity (_decus_) and Prudence -balancing her scales, and Piety and true Faith, and Virtue. Last of all -Nobility (_nobilitas_), in grace not quite the others' equal.[133] - -In the midst of a great wood blessed with fountains and multitudinous -bird-song, a cloud-kissing mountain rose with level top. Nature's palace -was erected here, gemmed and golden; and within was a great hall hung upon -bronze columns. Here the painter's art had rendered the ways of men, and -inscriptions made plain the pictured story. "O new wonders of painting," -exclaims the poet; "what cannot be, comes into being; and painting, the -ape of truth, deluding with novel art, turns shadows to realities, and -transforms particular falsehood into (general) truth."[134] There might be -seen the power of logic pressing its arguments and conquering sophistry. -There Aristotle was preparing his arms, and, more divinely, Plato mused on -heaven's secrets. There Seneca moralized, and Ptolemy explained the stars -in their times and courses. There spoke the word of Tully, while Virgil's -muse painted many lies, and put truth's garb on falsehood. There was also -shown the might of Alcides and Ulysses' wisdom, Turnus's valour prodigal -of life, and Hippolytus's shame, undone by Venus's reins.[135] Such and -many other tropes of things and dreams of truth, this royal art set -forth. - -Here, standing in the midst of her Council, Nature, with bowed head, spoke -her solemn words: "Painfully I remake what my hand's solicitude has -wrought. But the hand's penitence does not wipe out the flaws. The -shortcomings of our works must be repaired by some perfect model, some man -divine, not smelling of the earth and earthly, but whose mind shall hold -to heaven while his body walks the earth. Let him be the mirror in which -we may see what our faith, our potency, and virtue ought to be. As it is, -our shame is over all the earth." - -When the Council had approved these words, Prudence arose in all her -beauty.[136] She discoursed upon man's dual nature, spirit and body. -Nature and her helpers may be the artificers of his mortal body, but the -soul demands its heavenly Artificer, and laughs at our rude arts. God's -wisdom alone can create the soul, as Prudence shows by an exposition of -its qualities. - -Now Reason raised his reverend form, holding his triple glass in which -appear the causes and effects and qualities of things. He humbly -disclaimed the power to instruct Minerva,[137] and applauded the plan by -which a new Lucifer should sojourn in the world. May he unite all the -gifts which they can bestow, and be their champion against the Vices. Now -let their suppliant vows be sped to Him who alone can create the divine -mind. A legate should be despatched above, bearing their request. For this -office none is so fit as Prudence, to whom the secrets of Heaven are -known, and whose energy and wisdom will surmount the difficulties of the -way. - -Prudence at first refuses; but Concordia rises, the inspirer of chaste -loves, she who knit the souls of David and Jonathan, Pirithous and -Theseus, Nisus and Euryalus, Orestes and Pylades. Persuasively she speaks, -and points out all the ills the world had suffered by disobedience to her -behests. Prudence is won over to the task, and now wills only as her -sisters will. She thinks upon the means and way. Wisdom orders a chariot -to be made, in which the sea, the stars, the heavens may be traversed. Its -artificers are her seven daughters, wise and fair, who unite the skill and -knowledge of all those wise ancients who had excelled in any Art. First -Grammar (her functions and great writers being told) forms the pole which -goes before the axle-tree (_temo praeambulus axis_). Then Logic makes the -axle-tree; and Rhetoric adorns the pole with gems and the axle with -flowers. Arithmetic constructs one wheel of the chariot, and Music the -second, Geometry the third, and the fourth wheel is made by -Astronomy.[138] - -Now Reason, at Nature's nod, yokes to the chariot the five horses, to wit, -the Senses disciplined and controlled, Sight, Hearing, Smell, Taste, and -Touch. He himself mounts as charioteer, and bids Prudence follow. Amid the -farewells and plaudits of all, the chariot soars aloft. As it speeds -along, Prudence investigates atmospheric phenomena, and then the spirits -of evil who wander through the air. They passed on through the upper -ether, reached the citadel and fount of light, where the Sun holds sway; -next was reached the region where Venus and the star of Mercury sing -together and Lucifer exults, the herald of the day. Then to their rapid -flight appeared Mars' flaming palace, seething with fire and wrath. Onward -they passed to the glad light and unhurtful flames of Jupiter, and then to -Saturn's sphere. At length they ascended the stellar region where the Pole -stars contend in brightness, where are seen Hercules and Orion, Leda's -twins, the fiery Crab, the Lion, and the rest of the Zodiac's -constellations.[139] - -Here at heaven's entrance the chariot halted. Those five horses of the -Senses, charioteered by Reason, could ascend no farther. But a damsel was -seen, seated upon the summit of the Pole. She scrutinizes the hidden Cause -and End of all things, holding scales in her right hand and in her left a -sceptre. On her vestments a subtile point traces God's secrets, and the -formless is figured in form. Reverently Phronesis, that is Prudence, -saluted this Queen of the Pole, and set forth the purpose of her journey, -telling of Nature's desire and her limitations. In reply Theology, for it -is she,[140] offered herself as a companion, and bade Prudence leave her -chariot, but keep the second courser (Hearing) to bear her on. Prudence -now surmounted the starry citadels, and marvelled at heaven's nodes, where -the four ways begin and the crystalline waters flow, shot with agreeing -fires; for here, in universal harmony transcending Nature's laws and -Reason's power, Concord unites those elements which war below. Onward -leads the way among those joys celestial which know no tears, where there -is peace without hate, and light above all brightness. Here dwell the -angel bands, the Thunderer's princes, regulators of the world; here glow -the seraphim, and cherubim drain draughts from the mind of God; and here -are the Thrones whereon God balances His weighed decrees, and with His -band of Powers conquers the tyrants.[141] Here also rest the saints, freed -from earth's dross and passion, clothed in virgin white or martyr's -purple, or wearing the Doctor's laurel. Joyful alike are they, yet diverse -in merit, shining with unequal splendour.[142] Here finally, in honour -surpassing all, is the Virgin Mother, clad in the garb of our -salvation--Star of the Sea, Way of Life, Port of Salvation, Limit of -Piety, Mother of Pity, Garden closed, Sealed Font, Fruitful Olive, Sweet -Paradise, Rose without Thorn, Guiltless Grace, Way of the Wanderer, Light -of the Blind, Rest of the Tired--untold, unnumbered, and unspeakable are -her praises.[143] - -Phronesis cannot bear the sight. Queen Theology calls to her sister Faith -to aid the fainting one. Faith comes and holds her Mirror before the eyes -of Phronesis; and in this glass her eyes can endure the shaded glory of -the overpowering vision. She staggers on, her trembling steps supported -by Faith and Theology. In the glass she sees the eternal and divine, the -enduring, moveless, sure; species unborn, celestial ideas, the forms of -men and principles of things, causes of causes and the course of fate, the -Thunderer's mind; why God condemns some, predestines others, prepares that -one for life and from this one withdraws His rewards; why poverty presses -upon some and want is filled only with tears; why riches pour on others, -why one is wise, another lacking, and why the worthies of the past have -been endowed each with his several gifts.[144] - -Marvelling at all these sights, Prudence, supported by the sisters, -reached at last the palace of the King, and fell prostrate before God -himself. He bade her rise, and speak. Humbly she set forth Nature's plight -and the evil upon earth, and presented her petition. God accedes -benignantly. He will not destroy the earth again, but will send a human -spirit endowed with heavenly gifts, a pilgrim to the earth, a medicine for -the world. Prudence worships. God summons Mind, and orders him to fashion -the type-form, the idea of the human mind. Mind searches among existing -beings for the traces of this new _idea_ or type.[145] His difficult -search succeeds at last, and in the Mirror which he constructs, every -grace takes its abode: Joseph's form, the intelligence of Judith, the -patience of righteous Job, the modesty of Moses, Jacob's simplicity, -Abraham's faith, Tobias's piety. He presents this pattern-type to God, who -sets an accordant soul therein, and then entrusts the new-made being to -Phronesis, while Mind anoints it with an unguent against the attacks of -the Vices. Phronesis, with her prize, turned to the way by which she had -ascended, regained her chariot and Reason her charioteer. Together they -sped back to the congratulations of Nature and her Council. - -For this perfect soul Nature now forms a beautiful body. Concord unites -the two, and a new man is formed, perfect and free from flaw. Chastity and -guardian Modesty endow him with their gifts; Reason adds his, and Honesty. -These Logic follows, with her gift of skill in argument; Rhetoric brings -her stores, then Arithmetic, next Music, next Geometry, next -Astronomy;[146] while Theology and Piety are not behind with theirs; and -to these Faith joins her gifts of fidelity and truth. Last of all comes -Nobility, Fortune's daughter. But because she has nothing of her own to -give, and must receive all from her mother, she betakes herself to -Fortune's house of splendid mutability. What will Fortune give? The two -return to Nature's palace, and Fortune's magnificence is proffered by her -daughter; but Reason, standing by, will allow only a measured -acceptance.[147] - -The report of this richly endowed creature reached Alecto. Raging she -summoned her pests, the chiefs of Tartarus, doers of ill, masters of every -sin--Injury, Fraud, Perjury, Theft, Rapine, Fury and Anger, Hate, Discord, -Strife, Disease and Melancholy, Lust, Wantonness and Need, Fear and Old -Age. She roused them with a harangue: their rule is threatened by this -upstart Creature, whom Parent Nature has prepared for war; but what can -his untried imbecility do against them in arms? - -All clamour assent, and in a tumult of rage make ready for the strife. The -hostile ranks approach. The first attack is made by Folly (_Stultitia_) -and her comrades, Sloth, Gaming, Idle Jesting, Ease and Sleep. But -faithful Virtues protect the constant youth against these foes. Next -Discord leads its mutinous band, but only to defeat. Onslaughts follow -from Poverty, next from Ill-Repute, from Old Age and Disease. Then -Grieving advances, and is overthrown by Laughter. More deadly still are -the attacks of Venus and Lust; then Excess and Wantonness take up the -fray; and at the end Impiety and Fraud and Avarice. But still the man -conquers with the aid of his Virtues ever true. - -The fight is over. The Virtues triumph and receive their Kingdoms; Vice -succumbs; Love reigns instead of Discord; the man is blessed; and the -earth, adorned with flowers in a new spring of youth, brings forth -abundance. The Poet sums up his poem's teaching: From God must everything -begin and in Him end. But our genius may not stand inert; ours is the -strife as well, according to our strength and faculty. Let the mind attach -itself to the things which are and do not pass, even as Plato sings, from -things of sense reaching on ever to the grades Angelic and Olympus's -steeps. Then it shall behold the universal praise of God and the true -ascription of all good to Him. He in himself is perfect, Part and likewise -Whole, and everywhere uncircumscribed. Nothing has power in itself, but -all would fall to nothing, did He close the flux of hidden power. - -Alanus, a good Christian Doctor, is also an eclectic in his thought. A -consistent system is hardly to be drawn from his poem. It suggests Christ. -But its hero is not the God-man of the Incarnation. Its figures are -semi-pagan. The virtue Faith, for example, is the Fides, the Good Faith, -of the antique Roman, though it is the Christian virtue Faith as well. In -language the poem is antique; its verse has vigorous flow; its imagery -lacks neither beauty nor sublimity. It is in fact a poem, a creation, -having a scheme and unity of its own, although the author borrows -continually. Martianus Capella is there and Dionysius the Areopagite; -there also is the _Psychomachia_ of Prudentius and its progeny of symbolic -battles between the Virtues and the Vices.[148] Yet Alanus has achieved; -for he has woven his material into a real poem and has reared his own -lofty allegory. His work is another grand example of mediaeval symbolism. - -Thus we see the ceaseless sweep of allegory through men's minds. They felt -and thought and dreamed in allegories; and also spent their dry ingenuity -on allegorical constructions. It was reserved for one supreme poet to -create, out of this atmosphere, a supreme poem which is as complete an -allegory as the _Anticlaudianus_. But the _Divina Commedia_ has also the -power of its human realities of actually experienced pain and joy, and -hate and love. Compared with it, the _Anticlaudianus_ betrays the -vapourings of monk and doctor, imaginative indeed, but thin. The author's -feet were not planted on the earth of human life. - -But the Middle Ages did not demand that allegory should have its feet -planted on the earth, so long as its head nodded high among the clouds--or -its sentiments wandered sweetly in fancy's gardens. In one of these dwelt -that lovely Rose, whose _Roman_ once had vogue. In structure the _Roman de -la rose_ is an allegory from the beginning of the first part by De Lorris -to the very end of that encyclopaedic sequel added by De Meun. The story -is well known.[149] One may recall the fact that in De Lorris's poem and -De Meun's sequel every quality and circumstance of Love's sentiment and -fortunes are figured in allegorical personifications--all the lover's -hopes and fears and the wavering chances of his quest. - -In this respect the poem is the courtly and romantic counterpart of such a -philosophical or religious allegory as the _Anticlaudianus_. -Personifications of the arts and sciences, the vices and virtues, current -since the time of Prudentius's _Psychomachia_ and Capella's _Nuptials of -Philology_, were all in the _Anticlaudianus_, while in the _Roman de la -rose_ figure their secular and romantic kin: in De Lorris's part, Love, -Fair-Welcome, Danger, Reason, Franchise, Pity, Courtesy, Shame, Fear, -Idleness, Jealousy, Wicked-Tongue; then, with De Meun, others besides: -Richesse, False-Seeming, Hypocrisy, Nature, and Genius.[150] The figures -of the _Roman de la rose_ have diverse antecedents scattered through the -entire store of knowledge and classic literature possessed by the Middle -Ages; perhaps their immediate source of inspiration was the scheme of -courtly love which the mediaeval imagination elaborated and revelled -in.[151] The poem of De Lorris was a veritable romantic allegory. De Meun, -in his sequel, rather plays with the allegorical form, which he continues; -it has become a frame for his stores of learning, his knowledge of the -world, his views of life, his wit and satire, and his great literary and -poetic gifts. Yet it ends in a regular _Psychomachia_, in which Love's -barons are hard beset by all the foes of Love's delight, though Love has -its will at last. - - - - -BOOK VI - -LATINITY AND LAW - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -THE SPELL OF THE CLASSICS - - I. CLASSICAL READING. - - II. GRAMMAR. - - III. THE EFFECT UPON THE MEDIAEVAL MAN; HILDEBERT OF LAVARDIN. - - -I - -During all the mediaeval centuries, men approached the Classics expecting -to learn from them. The usual attitude toward the classical heritage was -that of docile pupils looking for instruction. One may recall the -antecedent reasons of this, which have already been stated at length. In -Italy, letters survived as the most impressive legacy from an -overshadowing past. In the north, save where they lingered on from the -antique time, they came in the train of Latin Christianity, and were -offered to men under the same imposing conditions of a higher civilization -authoritatively instructing ruder peoples. Moreover, between the ancient -times which produced the classic literature and the Carolingian period -there intervened centuries of degeneracy and transition, when the Classics -were used pedagogically to teach grammar and rhetoric. Then grammars were -composed or revised, and other handbooks of elementary instruction. The -Classics still were loved; but how shall men love beyond their own -natures? Gifted Jerome, great Augustine, loved them with an ardour -bringing its own misgivings. Other lovers, like Ausonius and Apollinaris -Sidonius, were pedantic imitators. - -Both north and south of the Alps another and obviously enduring cause -fostered the habit of regarding the Classics as storehouses of knowledge: -the fact that they were such for all the mediaeval centuries. They -included not only poetry and eloquence, but also history, philosophy, -natural knowledge, law and polity. The knowledge contained in them -exceeded what the men of western Europe otherwise possessed. As century -after century passed, mediaeval men learned more for themselves, and also -drew more largely on the classic store. Yet it remained unexhausted. The -twelfth and thirteenth centuries constitute the great mediaeval epoch. Men -were then opening their eyes a little to observe the natural world, and -were thinking a little for themselves. Nevertheless the chief increase in -knowledge issued from the gradual discovery and mastering of the works of -Aristotle. These centuries, like their predecessors, make clear that men -who inherit from a greater past a universal literature containing the best -they can conceive and more knowledge than they can otherwise attain, will -be likely to regard every part of this literature as in some way a source -of knowledge, physical or metaphysical, historical or ethical. And the -Classics merited such regard; for where they did not instruct in science, -they imparted knowledge of life, and norms and instances of conduct, from -which men still may draw guidance. We have outlearned the physics, and -perhaps the metaphysics of the Greeks; their knowledge of nature, in -comparison with ours, was but as a genial beginning; their polities and -their formal ethics we have tried and tested; but we have not risen above -the power and inspiration of the story of Greece and Rome, and the -exemplifications of life in the Greek and Latin Classics. It has not -ceased to be true that he who best loves the Classics, and most deeply -feels and glories in their unique excellence as literature, is he who -still draws life from them, and discipline and knowledge. Their true -lovers, like the true lovers of all noble literature, are always in a -state of pupilage to the poems and the histories they love. - -Obviously then no final word lies in the statement that through the Middle -Ages men turned to the Classics for instruction. They did indeed turn to -them for all kinds of knowledge, and for discipline. Often they looked for -instruction from Ovid or Virgil in a way to make us smile. Often they -were like schoolboys, dully conning words which they did not feel and so -did not understand. But in the tenth century, and in the twelfth, some men -admired and loved the Latin Classics, and drew from them, as we may, -lessons which are learned only by those who love aright. - -It would be hard to say what the men of the Middle Ages did not thus gain. -The pagan classical literature was one of humanity in its full range of -interests. This was true of the Greek; and from the Greek, the universal -human passed to the Latin, which the Middle Ages were to know. In both -literatures, man was a denizen of earth. The laws of mortality and fate -were held before his eyes; and the action of the higher powers bore upon -mortal happiness, rather than upon any life to come. When reflecting upon -the use and influence of the Classics through the Middle Ages, it is -always to be kept in mind that the antique literature was the literature -of this life and of this world; that it was universal in its humanity, and -still in the Middle Ages might touch every human love and human interest -not directly connected with the hopes and terrors of the Judgment Day. - -So whenever educated mediaeval men were drawn by the ambitions or moved by -the finer joys of human life, it lay in their path to seek instruction or -satisfaction from some antique source. If a man wished the common -education of a clerk, he drew it from antique text-books and their -commentaries. Grammar and rhetoric meant Latin grammar and Latin rhetoric; -dialectic also was Latin and antique. Likewise the quadrivium of -arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music, could be studied only in -Latin. These ordinary branches of education having been mastered, if then -the man's tastes or ambitions turned to the interests of earth (and who -except the saintly recluse was not so drawn?) he would still look to the -antique. A civilian or an ecclesiastic would need some knowledge of law, -which for the most part was Roman, even when disguised as Canon law.[152] -Did a man incline toward philosophy, and the scrutiny of life's deeper -problems, again the source was the antique; and when he lifted his mind to -theology, he would still find himself reasoning in categories of antique -dialectic. Finally, and this was a broad field of humane inclination, if a -clerkly educated man loved poetry, eloquence, and history, for their own -sakes, he also would turn to the antique. - -There is scarcely need to revert again to the use of the Classics in the -earlier Middle Ages. We have seen that in Italy they never ceased to form -the conscious background to all intellectual life; and that in the north, -letters came a handmaid in the train of Latin Christianity--a handmaid -that was apt to assert her own value, and also charm the minds of men. -From the first, it was the orthodox view that Latin letters should provide -the education enabling men to understand the Christian religion -adequately. This is the object set forth in Charlemagne's Capitularies -upon education.[153] Three hundred years later Honorius of Autun says in -his sermonizing way: - - "Not only, beloved, do the sacred writings lead us to eternal life, - but profane letters also teach us; for edifying matter may be drawn - from them. In view of sacred examples no one should be scandalized at - this. For the children of Israel spoiled the Egyptians; they took gold - and silver, gems and precious vestments, which they afterwards turned - into God's treasury to build the tabernacle."[154] - -Honorius used Augustine's reference to the Egyptians, and followed this -Augustinian view, always recognized as orthodox in the Middle Ages. It was -narrower than the practice among those who followed letters. Gerbert at -the close of the tenth century loved to teach and read the pagan writers, -and drew from them training and discipline.[155] In the next century, the -German monk Froumund of Tegernsee, with Bernward and Godehard, bishops of -Hildesheim, are instances of German love of antique letters.[156] Yet -lofty souls might choose to limit their reading of the Classics, at least -in theory, to the needs of their Latinity. Such a one was Hugo of -St.-Victor, scholar, theologian, man of genius;[157] he professed to care -more for the Christian ardours of the soul than for learning even as a -means of righteousness, and chose to take the side of those who would -read the classic authors only so far as the needs of education demanded: - - "There are two kinds of writings, first those which are termed the - _artes_ proper, secondly, those which are the supplements - (_appendentia_) of the _artes_. _Artes_ comprise the works grouped - under (_supponuntur_) philosophy, those which contain some fixed and - determined matter of philosophy, as grammar, dialectic and the like. - _Appendentia artium_ are those [writings] which touch philosophy less - nearly and are occupied with some subject apart from it; and yet - sometimes offer flotsam and jetsam from the _artes_, or simply as - narratives smooth the road to philosophy. All the songs of poets are - such--tragedies, comedies, satires, heroics, and lyrics too, and - iambics, besides certain didactic works (_didascalica_); tales - likewise, and histories; also the writings of those nowadays called - philosophers, who extend a brief matter with lengthy circumlocution, - and thus darken a simple meaning. - - "Note then well the distinction I have drawn for thee: distinct and - different (_duo_) are the _artes_ and their _appenditia_, ... and - often from the latter the student will gain much labour and little - fruit. The _artes_, without their _appenditia_, may make the reader - perfect; but the latter, without the _artes_, can bring no whit of - perfection. Wherefore one should first of all devote himself to the - _artes_, which are so fundamental, and to the aforesaid seven above - all, which are the means and instruments (_instrumenta_) of all - philosophy. Then let the rest be read, if one has leisure, since - sometimes the playful mingled with the serious especially delights us, - and we are apt to remember a moral found in a tale."[158] - -Temperament affected Hugo's view. He was of the spiritual aristocracy, who -may be somewhat disdainful of the common means by which men get their -education and round out their natures. The mechanical monotony of pedagogy -grated on him and evoked the ironical sketch of a school-room, which he -put in his dialogue on the Vanity of the World. The little Discipulus, -directed by his Magister, is surveying human things. - - "Turn again, and look," says the latter, "and what do you see?" - - "I see the schools of learners. There is a great crowd, and of all - ages, boys and youths, men young and old. They study various things. - Some practise their rude tongue at the alphabet and at words new to - them. Others listen to the inflection of words, their composition and - derivation; then by reciting and repeating them they try to commit - them to memory. Others furrow the waxen tablets with a stylus. Others, - guiding the calamus with learned hand, draw figures of different - shapes and colours on parchments. Still others with sharper zeal seem - to dispute on graver matters and try to trip each other with twistings - and impossibilities (_gryphis_?). I see some also making calculations, - and some producing various sounds upon a cord stretched on a frame. - Others, again, explain and demonstrate geometric figures; and yet - others with various instruments show the positions and courses of the - stars and the movement of the heavens. Others, finally, consider the - nature of plants, the constitution of men, and the properties and - powers of things." - -The Disciple is captivated with this many-coloured show of learning; but -the Master declares it to be mostly foolishness, distracting the student -from understanding his own nature, his Creator, and his future lot.[159] - -These are examples, which might be multiplied indefinitely, of the pious -mediaeval view that the _artes_, with a very little reading of the -_auctores_, were proper for the educated Christian, whose need was to -understand Scripture. Sometimes, stung, at least rhetorically, by fear of -the lust and idolatry of the antique, mediaeval souls cry out against its -lures, even as Jerome's Christianly protesting nature dreamed that famous -dream of exclusion from heaven as a "Ciceronian." Alcuin, who led the -educational movement under Charlemagne, gently chides one whose fondness -for Virgil made him forget his friend--"would that the Gospels rather than -the _Aeneid_ filled thy breast."[160] Three hundred years later, St. Peter -Damiani, himself a virtuoso in letters and a sometime teacher of rhetoric, -arraigns the monks for teaching grammar rather than things spiritual.[161] -Damiani speaks with the harshness of one who fears what he loves. In -France, about the same time, our worthy sermon-writer, Honorius of Autun, -liked the profanities well enough, and drew from them apt moral tales, -which preachers might introduce to rouse drowsy congregations. Yet he -directs his pulpit-thunder at the _cives Babyloniae_, the _superbi_, who -after their several tastes finger profane literature to their peril: -"Those delighting in quibbling learn Aristotle: the lovers of war have -Maro, and the lustful idlers their Naso. Lucan and Statius incite -discords, while Horace and Terence equip the pert and wanton -(_petulantes_)--but since the names of these are blotted from the book of -life, I shall not commemorate them with my lips."[162] - -This with the excellent Honorius was pious rhetoric. Yet the love and fear -of antique letters caused anxiety in many a mediaeval soul, deflected by -them from its narrow path to the heavenly Jerusalem. Indeed the love of -letters and of knowledge was to play its part, and might take one side or -the other, according to the motive of their pursuit, in the great -mediaeval _psychomachia_ between the cravings of mortal life and the -militant insistencies of the soul's salvation. This conflict, not confined -to mediaeval monks, has its universal aspects. It echoes in the sigh of -Michelangelo over the - - "affectuosa fantasia, - Che l' arte si fece idolo e monarca," - ---which had so long drawn his heart from Eternity.[163] - -Commonly, however, this conflict did not greatly disturb scholars who felt -in some degree the classic spell so manifold of delight in themes -delightful, of pleasure somehow drawn from clear statement and convincing -sequence of thought, of even deeper happiness springing from the stirring -of those faculties through which man rejoices in knowledge. To be sure, -readers of the Classics, who drew joy from them or satisfaction, or humane -instruction, were comparatively few in the mediaeval centuries, as they -are to-day. And undoubtedly in the Middle Ages the Classics usually were -read in unenlightened schoolboy fashion. Yet making these reservations, we -may be sure that letters yielded up their joys to the chosen few in every -mediaeval century. "Amor litterarum ab ipso fere initio pueritiae mihi est -innatus," wrote Lupus in the ninth.[164] Gerbert might have said the -same, and many of the men who taught at Chartres in the generations -following. So likewise might have said John of Salisbury. In studying the -Classics he certainly looked to them for instruction. But he also loved -them, and found companionship and solace in them, as he says, and as -Cicero before him had said of letters. - -We may ask ourselves what sort of pleasure do _we_ get from reading the -Classics? not necessarily a light distracting of the mind, but rather a -deeper gratification: thought is aroused and satisfied, and our nature is -appeased by the admirable presentation of things admirable. At the same -time we may be conscious of discipline and benefit. There is good reason -to suppose that a like pleasure, or satisfaction, with discipline and -instruction, came to this exceedingly clever John from reading Terence, -Virgil and Ovid, Horace, Juvenal, Lucan, Persius and Statius, Cicero, -Seneca and Quintilian--for he read them all.[165] John is affected, -impressed, and trained by his classic reading; he has absorbed his -authors; he quotes from them as spontaneously and aptly as he quotes from -Scripture. A quotation from the one or the other may give final point to -an argument, and have its own eloquent suggestions. Sometimes the tone of -one of his own letters--which usually are excellent in form and -language--may agree with that of the pithy antique quotation garnishing -it. A mediaeval writer was not likely to say just what we should when -expressing ourselves on the same matter. Yet John makes quite clear to us -how he cared for antique letters, in the Prologue to his _Polycraticus_, -his chief work on philosophy and life; and we may take his word as to the -satisfaction which he drew from them, since his own writings prove his -assiduity in their cult. This prologue is somewhat _cherche_, and imbued -with a preciosity of sentiment putting one in mind of Cicero's oration -_Pro Archia poeta_. - - "Most delightful in many ways, but in this especially, is the fruit of - letters, that banishing the reserve of intervening place and time, - they bring friends into each other's presence, and do not suffer - noteworthy things to be obliterated by dust. For the arts would have - perished, laws would have vanished, the offices of faith and religion - would have fallen away, and even the correct use of language would - have failed, had not the divine pity, as a remedy for human infirmity, - provided letters for the use of mortals. Ancient examples, which - incite to virtue, would have corrected and served no one, had not the - pious solicitude of writers transmitted them to posterity.... Who - would know the Alexanders and the Caesars, or admire Stoics and - Peripatetics, had not the monuments of writers signalized them? - Triumphal arches promote the glory of illustrious men from the carved - inscription of their deeds. Thereby the observer recognizes the - Liberator of his Country, the Establisher of Peace. The light of fame - endures for no one save through his own or another's writing. How many - and how great kings thinkest thou there have been, of whom there is - neither speech nor cogitation? Vainly have men stormed the heights of - glory, if their fame does not shine in the light of letters. Other - favour or distinction is as fabled Echo, or the plaudits of the Play, - ceasing the moment it has begun. - - "Besides all this, solace in grief, recreation in labour, cheerfulness - in poverty, modesty amid riches and delights, faithfully are bestowed - by letters. For the soul is redeemed from its vices, and even in - adversity refreshed with sweet and wondrous cheer, when the mind is - intended upon reading or writing what is profitable. Thou shalt find - in human life no more pleasing or more useful employment; unless - perchance when, with heart dilated through prayer and divine love, the - mind perceives and arranges within itself, as with the hand of - meditation, the great things of God. Believe one who has tried it, - that all the sweets of the world, compared with these exercises, are - wormwood."[166] - -Hereupon, still addressing himself to his friend and patron, Thomas a -Becket, John suggests that these recreations are peculiarly beneficial to -men in their circumstances, burdened with affairs; and he puts his -principles in practice, by launching forth upon his lengthy work of -learned and philosophic disquisition. - -To supplement this outline of John's appreciation of the Classics, it will -be interesting to look into the literary interpretation of a classical -poem, from the pen of one of his contemporaries. So little is known of the -author, Bernard Silvestris, that he usually has been confused with his -more famous fellow, Bernard of Chartres. We may refer to both of them -again.[167] Here our business is solely with the _Commentum Bernardi -Silvestris super sex libros Aeneidos Virgilii_.[168] The writer draws from -the _Saturnalia_ of the fifth-century grammarian, Macrobius; but his -allegorical interpretation of the _Aeneid_ seems to be his own. He finds -in the _Aeneid_ a twofold consideration, in that its author meant to teach -philosophic truth, and at the same time was not inattentive to the poetic -plot. - - "Since then Virgil in this poem is both philosopher and poet, we shall - first expound the purpose and method of the poet.... His aim is to - unfold the calamities of Aeneas and other Trojans, and the labours of - the exiles. Herein disregarding the truth of history as told by Dares - the Phrygian,[169] and seeking to win the favour of Augustus, he - adorns the facts with figments. For Virgil, greatest of Latin poets, - wrote in imitation of Homer, greatest of Greek poets. As Homer in the - _Iliad_ narrates the fall of Troy and in the _Odyssey_ the exile of - Ulysses; so Virgil in the second Book briefly relates the overthrow of - Troy, and in the rest the labours of Aeneas. Consider the twin order - of narration, the natural and the artistic (_artificialem_). The - natural is when the narrative proceeds according to the sequence of - events, telling first what happened first. Lucan and Statius keep to - this order. The artistic is when we begin in the middle of the story, - and thence revert to the commencement. Terence writes thus, and Virgil - in this work. It would have been the natural order to have described - first the destruction of Troy, and then brought the Trojans to Crete, - from Crete to Sicily, and from Sicily to Libya. But he first brings - them to Dido, and introduces Aeneas relating the overthrow of Troy and - the other things that he has suffered.[170] - - "Up to this point we show how he proceeds: next let us observe why he - does it so. With poets there is the reason of usefulness, as with a - satirist; the reason of pleasure, as with a writer of comedies; and - again these two combined, as with the historical poet. As Horace says: - - 'Aut prodesse volunt aut delectare poetae, - Aut simul et iucunda et idonea dicere vitae.' - - "This kind of a historical poem is shown by its figurative and - polished diction and in the various mischances and deeds narrated. If - any one will study to imitate it he will gain skill in writing. The - narrative also contains instances and arguments for following the - right and avoiding what is evil. Hence a twofold profit to the reader: - skill in writing, gained through imitation, and prudence in conduct, - drawn from example and precept. For instance, in the labours of Aeneas - we have an example of endurance; and one of piety, in his affection - for Anchises and Ascanius. From the reverence which he shows the gods, - from the oracles which he supplicates, from the sacrifices which he - offers, from the vows and prayers which he pours forth, we feel drawn - to religion: while through Dido's unbridled love, we are recalled from - desire for the forbidden." - -The above is excellent, but not particularly original. It shows, however, -that Bernard could appreciate the _Aeneid_ in this way. His allegorical -interpretation is of a piece with current mediaeval methods. Yet to take a -poem allegorically was not distinctively mediaeval; for Homer and other -poets had been thus expounded from the days of Plato, who did not himself -approve. With Bernard, each Book of the _Aeneid_ represents one of the -ages of man, the first Book betokening infancy, the second boyhood, and so -forth. Allegorical etymologies are applied to the names of the personages; -and in general the whole natural course and setting of the poem is taken -allegorically. "The sea is the human body moved and tossed by drunkenness -and lusts, which are represented by waves." Aeneas, to wit, the human soul -joined to its body, comes to Carthage, the mundane city where Dido reigns, -which is lust; this allegory is unfolded in detail. So the interpretation -ambles on, not more and not less jejune than such ingenuities usually are. - - * * * * * - -Classical studies reached their zenith in the twelfth century. For in -every way that century surpassed its predecessors; and in classical -studies it excelled the thirteenth, which devoted to them a smaller -portion of its intellectual energies. The twelfth century, to be sure, was -prodigiously interested in dialectic and theology. Yet these had not quite -engulfed the humanities; nor had any newly awakened interest in physical -or experimental science distracted the eyes of men from the charms of the -ancient written page. The change took place in the thirteenth century. -Its best intellectual efforts, north of the Alps at least, were directed -to the study and theological appropriation of the Aristotelian -encyclopaedia of metaphysics and universal knowledge.[171] The effect of -Aristotle was totally unliterary. And the minds of men, absorbed in -mastering this giant mass of knowledge and argument, ceased to regard -literary form and the humane aspects of Latin literature. - -Until the thirteenth century, dialectic and theology were not completely -severed from _belles lettres_. The Platonic-Augustinian theology of the -twelfth century had been idealizing and imaginative, not to say poetical. -Such an interesting exponent of it as Hugo of St. Victor appears as a -literary personage, despite his stinted advocacy of classical study. One -notes that for his time the chief single source of physical knowledge was -the Latin version of the _Timaeus_, certainly not a prosaic composition. -Thus, for the twelfth century, an effective cause of the continuance of -the study of letters lay herein: whatever branch of natural knowledge -might allure the student, he could not draw it bodily from a serious but -unliterary repository, like the _Physics_ or _De animalibus_ of Aristotle, -which were not yet available; he must follow his bent through the writings -of various Latin poets as well as prose-writers. In fine, the sources of -profane knowledge open to the twelfth century were literary in their -nature, and might form part of the literature which would be read by a -student of grammar or rhetoric. - -One sees this in John of Salisbury. There may have been a few men who knew -more than he did of some particular topic. But his range and readiness of -knowledge were unique. And it is evident from his writings that his -knowledge (except in logic) had no special or scientific source, but was -derived from a promiscuous reading of Latin literature. As a result, he is -himself a literary man. One may say much the same of his younger -contemporary, Alanus de Insulis.[172] He too has gathered knowledge from -literary sources, and he himself is one of the best Latin poets of the -Middle Ages. Another extremely poetic philosopher was Bernard Silvestris, -the interpreter of Virgil. His _De mundi unitate_ is a Pantheistic -exposition of the Universe; it is also a poem; and incidentally it affords -another illustration of the general fact, that before the works of -Aristotle were made known and expounded in the thirteenth century, all -kinds of natural and quasi-philosophic knowledge were drawn from a variety -of writings, some of them poor enough from any point of view, but none of -them distinctly scientific and unliterary, like the works of Aristotle. -Formal logic or dialectic, as cultivated by Abaelard for example, appears -as an exception. It had been specialized and more scientifically treated -than any branch of substantial knowledge; for indeed it was based on the -logical treatises of Aristotle, most of which were in use before -Abaelard's death, and all of which were known to Thierry of Chartres and -John of Salisbury.[173] - -The contrast between the cathedral school of Chartres and the University -of Paris illustrates the change from the twelfth to the thirteenth -century. The former has been spoken of in a previous chapter, where its -story was brought down to the times of its great teachers, Bernard and -Thierry, of whom we shall have to speak in connection with the teaching of -grammar and the reading of classical authors. The school flourished -exceedingly until the middle of the twelfth century.[174] By that time the -schools of Paris had received an enormous impetus from the popularity of -Abaelard, and scholars had begun to push thither from all quarters. But it -was not till the latter part of the century that the University, with its -organization of Masters and Faculties, began visibly to emerge out of the -antecedent cathedral school.[175] Chartres was a home of letters; and -there Latin literature was read enthusiastically. But in Paris Abaelard -was pre-eminently a dialectician; and after he died, through those decades -when the University was coming into existence, the tide of study set -irresistibly toward theology and metaphysics. Students and masters of the -Faculty of Arts outnumbered all the other Faculties; nevertheless, -counting not by tumultuous numbers, but by intellectual strength, the -great matter was Theology, and the majority of the Masters in the Arts -were students in the divine science. The Arts were regarded as a -preparatory discipline. So through its great period, which roughly -coincides with the thirteenth century, the University of Paris was for all -Europe the supreme seat of Dialectic, Metaphysics, and Theology, and yet -no kindly nurse of _belles lettres_. - -The tendencies of Oxford were not quite the same as those of Paris, yet -Latin literature as such does not seem to have been cultivated there for -its own fair sake. This apparently was unaffected by the fact that a -movement for "close" or exact scholarship existed at the English -university. Grosseteste, its first great chancellor, teacher and inspirer, -unquestionably introduced, or encouraged, the study of Greek; and his -famous pupil, Roger Bacon, was a serious Greek scholar, and wrote a -grammar of that tongue. But neither Grosseteste nor Bacon appears to have -been moved by any literary interest in Greek literature; both one and the -other urged the importance of Greek, and of Hebrew too and Arabic, in -order to reach a surer knowledge of Scripture and Aristotle. They sought -to open the veritable founts of theology and natural knowledge, an -intelligent aim indeed, but quite unliterary. In spirit both these men -belong to the thirteenth century, not to the twelfth.[176] - -In Italy, one does not find that the passage from the twelfth to the -thirteenth century displays the decline in classical studies which is -apparent north of the Alps. The reasons seem obvious. The passion for -metaphysical theology did not invade this land of practical -ecclesiasticism and urban living, where pagan antiquity, dumb, broken, and -defaced, yet everywhere surviving, was the medium of life and thought and -temperamental inclination in the thirteenth as well as in the twelfth -century. Nor was Italy as yet becoming scientific, or greatly interested -in physical hypothesis; although medicine was cultivated in various -centres, Salerno, for example, and Bologna. But for the twelfth, and for -the thirteenth century as well, Italy's great intellectual achievement was -in the two closely neighbouring sciences of canon and civil law. These -made the University of Bologna as pre-eminent in law as Paris was in -theology. There had been schools of grammar and rhetoric at Bologna and -Ravenna, before the lecturing of Irnerius on the _Pandects_ drew to the -first-named town the concourse of mature and seemly students who were -gradually to organize themselves into a university.[177] Thus at Bologna -law flourished and grew great, springing upward from an antecedent base of -grammatical if not literary studies. The study of the law never cut itself -away from this foundation. For the exigencies of legal business demanded -training in the scrivener's and notarial arts of inditing epistles and -drawing documents, for which the _ars dictaminis_, to wit, the art of -composition was of primary utility. This _ars_, teaching as it did both -the general rules of composition and the more specific forms of legal or -other formal documents, pertained to law as well as grammar. Of the latter -study it was perhaps in Italy the main element, or, rather, end. But even -without this hybrid link of the _dictamen_, grammar was needed for the -interpretation of the _Pandects_; and indeed some of the glosses of -Irnerius and other early glossators are grammatical rather than legal -explanations of the text. We should bear in mind that this august body of -jurisprudential law existed not in the inflated statutory Latin of -Justinian's time, but in the sonorous and correct language of the earlier -empire, when the great Jurists lived, as well as Quintilian. Accordingly a -close study of the _Pandects_ required, as well as yielded, a knowledge of -classical Latinity. Thus law tended to foster, rather than repress, -grammar and rhetoric; and had no unfavourable effect on classical studies. -And even as such studies "flourished" in Italy in the eleventh and twelfth -centuries, they did not cease to "flourish," there in the thirteenth, in -the same general though rather dull and uncreative way. For it will -hereafter appear that the productions of the Latin poets and rhetoricians -of Italy were below the literary level of those composed north of the -Loire in France, or in England. - - -II - -From the days of the Roman Empire, the study of grammar was, and never -ceased to be, the basis of the conscious and rational knowledge of the -Latin tongue. The Roman boys studied it at Rome; the Latin-speaking -provincials studied it, and all people of education who remained in the -lands of western Europe which once had formed part of the Empire; its -study was renewed under Charlemagne; he and Alcuin and all the scholars of -the ninth century were deeply interested in what to them represented -tangible Latinity, and in fact was to be a chief means by which their -mediaeval civilization should maintain its continuity with its source. For -grammar was most instrumental in preserving mediaeval Latin from violent -deflections, which would have left the ancient literature as the -literature of a forgotten tongue. Had mediaeval Latin failed to keep -itself veritable Latin; had it instead suffered transmutation into local -Romance dialects, the Latin classics, and all that hung from them, might -have become as unknown to the Middle Ages as the Greek, and even have been -lost forever. It was the study of Latin grammar, with classic texts to -illustrate its rules, that kept Latin Latin, and preserved standards of -universal usage throughout western Europe, by which one language was read -and spoken everywhere by educated people. From century to century this -language suffered modification, and varied according to the knowledge and -training of those who used it; yet its changes were never such as to -destroy its identity as a language, or prevent the Latin writer of one age -or country from understanding whatever in any land or century had been -written in that perennial tongue. - -Therefore fortunately, as the Carolingian scholars studied Latin grammar, -so likewise did those of all succeeding mediaeval generations, thereby -holding themselves to at least a homogeneity, though not an unvarying -uniformity, of usage. Evidently, however, the method of grammatical -instruction had to vary with the needs of the learners and the teachers' -skill. The Romans prattled Latin on their mothers' knees; and so, with -gradually widening deflections, did the Latinized provincials. Neither -Roman nor Provincial prattled Ciceronian periods, or used quite the -vocabulary of Virgil; yet it was Latin that they talked. Thenceforward -there was to be a difference between the people who lived in countries -where Romance dialects had emerged from the spoken Latin and prevailed, -and those people who spoke a Teuton speech. Although always drawing away, -the natal speech of Romance peoples was so like Latin, that in learning it -they seemed rather to correct their vulgar tongue than to acquire a new -language. So it was in the Christian parts of Spain, in Gaul, and, above -all, in Italy, where the vulgar dialects were tardiest in taking -distinctive form. Nevertheless, as the Romance dialects, for instance in -the country north of the Loire, developed into the various forms of what -is called Old French, young people at school would have to learn Latin as -a quasi-foreign tongue. Across the Rhine in Germany boys ordinarily had to -learn it at school, as a strange language, just as they must to-day; and -every effort was devoted to this end.[178] It was not likely that the -grammars composed for Roman boys, or at least for boys who spoke Latin -from their infancy, would altogether meet the needs of German, or even -French, youth. Yet only gradually and slowly in the Middle Ages were -grammars put together to make good the insufficiencies of Donatus and -Priscian. - -The former was the teacher of St. Jerome. He composed a short work, in the -form of questions and answers, explaining the eight parts of speech, but -giving no rules of gender, or forms of declension and conjugation, needed -for the instruction of those who, unlike the Roman youth, could not speak -the language. This little book went by the name of the _Ars minor_. The -same grammarian composed a more extensive work, the third book of which -was called the _Barbarismus_, after its opening chapter. It defined the -figures of speech (_figurae_, _locutiones_), and was much used through the -mediaeval period. - -The _Ars minor_ explained in simple fashion the elements of speech. But -the _Institutiones grammaticae_ of Priscian, a contemporary of -Cassiodorus, offered a mine of knowledge. Of its eighteen books the first -sixteen were devoted to the parts of speech and their forms, considered -under the variations of gender, declension, and conjugation. The remaining -two treated of _constructio_ or syntax. As early as the tenth century -Priscian was separated into these two parts, which came to be known as -_Priscianus major_ and _minor_. The Priscian manuscripts, whose name is -legion, usually present the former. Diffuse in language, confused in -arrangement, and overladen perhaps with its thousands of examples, it was -berated for its labyrinthine qualities even in the Middle Ages; yet its -sixteen books remained the chief source of etymological knowledge. -_Priscianus minor_ was less widely used. - -The grammarians of the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries followed -Donatus and Priscian, making extracts from their works, or abridgements, -and now and then introducing examples of deviation from the ancient usage. -The last came usually from the Vulgate text of Scripture, which sometimes -departed from the idioms or even word-forms approved by the old -authorities.[179] The _Ars minor_ of Donatus became enveloped in -commentaries; but Priscian was so formidable that in these early centuries -he was merely _glossed_, that is, annotated in brief marginal fashion. - -It would be tedious to dwell upon mediaeval grammatical studies. But the -tendencies characterizing them in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries may -be indicated briefly. The substance of the _Priscianus major_ was followed -by mediaeval grammarians. That is to say, while admitting certain -novelties,[180] they adhered to its rules and examples relating to the -forms of words, their declension and conjugation. But the _Priscianus -minor_, although used, was departed from. In the first place its treatment -of its subject (syntax) was confused and inadequate. There was, however, a -broader reason for seeking rules elsewhere. Mediaeval Latin, in its -progress as a living or quasi-living language, departed from the classical -norms far more in syntax and composition than in word-forms. The latter -continued much the same as in antiquity. But the popular and so to speak -Romance tendencies of mediaeval Latin brought radical changes of -word-order and style, which worked back necessarily upon the rules of -syntax. These had been but hazily stated by the old writers, and the task -of constructing an adequate Latin syntax remained undone. It was a task of -vital importance for the preservation of the Latin tongue. Word-forms -alone will not preserve the continuity of a language; it is essential that -their use in speech and writing should be kept congruous through -appropriate principles of syntax. Such were intelligently formulated by -mediaeval grammarians. The result was not exactly what it would have been -had the task been carried out in the fourth century: yet it has endured in -spite of the attacks, pseudo-attacks indeed, of the _cinquecento_; and the -mediaeval treatment of Latin syntax is the basis of the modern treatment. -One may add that syntax or _constructio_ was taken broadly as embracing -not only the agreements of number and gender, and the governing[181] of -cases, but also the order of words in a sentence, which had changed so -utterly between the time of Cicero and Thomas Aquinas. - -These general statements find illustration in the famous _Doctrinale_ of -Alexander de Villa-Dei, whose author was born in Normandy in the latter -half of the twelfth century. He studied at Paris, and in course of time -was summoned by the Bishop of Dol to instruct his _nepotes_ in grammar. -While acting as their tutor, he appears to have helped their memory by -setting his rules in rhyme; and the bishop asked him to write a _Summa_ of -grammar in some such fashion. Complying, he composed the _Doctrinale_ in -the year 1199, putting his work into leonine or rhyming hexameter, to make -it easier to memorize. Rarely has a school-book met with such success. It -soon came into use in Paris and elsewhere, and for some three hundred -years was the common manual of grammatical teaching throughout western -Europe. It was then attacked and apparently driven from the field by the -so-called Humanists, who, however, failed to offer anything better in its -place, and plagiarized from the work which they professed to -execrate.[182] - -The etymological portions of the _Doctrinale_ follow the teachings of the -_Priscianus major_; the part devoted to syntax, or _constructio_, shows -traces of the influence of the _Priscianus minor_. But Alexander's -treatment of syntax is more systematic and elaborate than Priscian's; and -he did not hesitate to defer to the Vulgate and other Christian Latin -writings. Thus he made his work conform to contemporary usage, which its -purpose was to set forth. He did the same in the section on Prosody, in -which he says that the ancient metricians distinguished a number of feet -no longer used, and he will confine himself to six--the dactyl, spondee, -trochee, anapaest, iambus, and tribrach.[183] In contradiction to -classical usage he condemns elision;[184] and in his chapter on accent he -throws over the ancient rules: - - "Accentus normas legitur posuisse vetustas; - Non tamen has credo servandas tempore nostro."[185] - -Alexander was not really an innovator. He followed previous grammarians -in condemning elision, and in what he says of quantity and accent. In his -syntax he endeavoured to set forth rules conforming to the best Latin -usage of his time, like other mediaeval grammarians before him. He was -indeed vehement in his advocacy of recent and Christian authors as -standards of writing, and he inveighed against the scholars of Orleans, -who read the Classics, and would have us sacrifice to the gods and observe -the indecent festivals of Faunus and Jove.[186] But others defended the -Orleans school, and perhaps still regarded the Classics as the best -arbiters of grammar and eloquence. There exist thirteenth-century grammars -which follow Priscian more closely than Alexander does.[187] Yet his work -represents the dominant tendencies of his time. - -Twelfth and thirteenth century grammarians recommended to their pupils a -variety of reading, in which mediaeval and early Christian compositions -held as large a place as Virgil and Ovid. The _Doctrinale_ advocates no -work more emphatically than Petrus Riga's _Aurora_, a versified paraphrase -of Scripture. Its author was a chorister in Rheims, and died in 1209.[188] -The works of scholastic philosophers were not cited as frequently as the -compositions of verse-writers; yet mediaeval grammarians were influenced -by the language of philosophy, and drew from its training principles which -they applied to their own science. Grammar could not help becoming -dialectical when the intellectual world was turning to logic and -metaphysics. Commencing in the twelfth century, overmasteringly in the -thirteenth, logic penetrated grammar and compelled an application of its -principles. Often grammarians might better have looked to linguistic usage -than to dialectic; yet if grammar was to become a rational science, it had -to systematize itself through principles of logic, and make use of -dialectic in its endeavour to state a reason for its rules. Those who -applied logic to grammar at least endeavoured to distinguish between the -two, not always fruitfully. But a real difference could not fail to -assert itself inasmuch as logic was in truth of universal application, -while mediaeval grammar never ceased to be the grammar of the Latin -language. Nevertheless its terminology was largely drawn from logic.[189] - -So dialectic brought both good and ill, proving itself helpful in the -regulation of syntax, but banefully affecting grammarians with the -conviction that language was the creature of reason, and must conform to -principles of logic. One likewise notes with curious interest, that, from -their dialectic training apparently, grammarians first found as many -_species_ of grammar as languages,[190] and then forsook this idea for the -view that, in order to be a science, grammar must be universal, or, as -they phrased it, one, and must possess principles not applicable specially -to Greek or Latin, but to _congruous construction in the abstract_; "de -constructione congrua secundum quod abstrahit ab omni lingua speciali," -are the words of the English thirteenth-century philosopher and -grammarian, Robert Kilwardby.[191] A like idea affected Roger Bacon, who -composed a Greek grammar,[192] which appears to have been intended as the -first part of a work upon the grammars of the learned languages other than -Latin. It was adapted to afford a grounding in the elements of Greek: yet -it touches matters in a way showing that the writer had thought deeply on -the affinities of languages and the common principles of grammar. Of this -the following passage is evidence: - - "Therefore, because I wish to treat of the properties of Greek - grammar, it should be known that there are differences in the Greek - language, to be hereafter noted in giving the names of these dialects - (_idiomata_). And I call them _idiomata_ and not _linguas_, because - they are not different languages, but different properties which are - peculiarities (_idiomata_) of the same language.[193] Wishing to set - forth Greek grammar, for the use of the Latins, it is necessary to - compare it with Latin grammar, because I commonly speak Latin myself, - seeing that the crowd does not know Greek; also because grammar is of - one and the same substance in all languages, although varying in its - non-essentials (_accidentaliter_), also because Latin grammar in a - certain special way is derived from Greek, as Priscian says, and other - grammarians."[194] - -The dialecticizing of grammar took place in the north, under influences -radiating from Paris, the chief dialectic centre. These did not deeply -affect grammatical studies in Italy, or in the Midi of France, which in -some respects exhibited like intellectual tendencies. Grammar was -zealously studied in Italy, but it did not there become either speculative -or dialectical. To be sure northern manuals were used, especially the -_Doctrinale_; but the study remained practical, an art rather than a -science, and its chief element, or end, was the _ars dictaminis_ or -_dictandi_. The grammatical treatises of Italians were treatises upon this -art of epistolary composition and the proper ways of drawing documents. -These works were studied also in the North, where the _ars dictaminis_ was -by no means neglected.[195] - -Latin grammar, although over-dialecticized in the North, and in Italy made -very practical, remained of necessity the foundation of classical studies, -and of mediaeval literary effort, in prose and verse. As the basis of -liberal studies, it had no truer home than the cathedral school of -Chartres.[196] Contemporary writers picture the manner in which this study -was there made to perform its most liberal office, under favourable -mediaeval conditions, in the first half of the twelfth century. The time -antedates the _Doctrinale_, and one notes at once that the Chartrian -masters used the ancient grammatical authorities. This is shown by the -_Eptateuchon_ of Thierry, who was headmaster (_scholasticus_) and then -Chancellor there for a number of years between 1120 and 1150. As its name -implies, the work was a manual, or rather an encyclopaedia, of the Seven -Arts. Thierry compiled it from the writings of the "chief doctors on the -arts." He transcribed the _Ars minor_ of Donatus and then portions of his -larger work. Having commended this author for his conciseness and -subtilty, Thierry next copied out the whole of Priscian. As text-books for -the second branch of the Trivium, he gives Cicero's _De inventione -rhetorica libri 2_, _Rhetoricorum ad Herennium libri 4_, _De partitione -oratoria dialogus_, and concludes with the rhetorical writings of -Martianus Capella and J. Severianus.[197] - -So much for the books. Now for the method of teaching as described by John -of Salisbury. He gives the practice of Bernard of Chartres, Thierry's -elder brother, who was scholasticus and Chancellor before him, in the -first quarter of the twelfth century. John has been advocating the study -of grammar as the _fundamentum atque radix_ of those exercises by which -virtue and philosophy are reached; and he is advising a generous reading -of the Classics by the student, and their constant use by the professor, -to illustrate his teaching. - - "This method was followed by Bernard of Chartres, _exundissimus - modernis temporibus fons litterarum in Gallia_. By citations from the - authors he showed what was simple and regular; he brought into relief - the grammatical figures, the rhetorical colours, the artifices of - sophistry, and pointed out how the text in hand bore upon other - studies; not that he sought to teach everything in a single session, - for he kept in mind the capacity of his audience. He inculcated - correctness and propriety of diction, and a fitting use of congruous - figures. Realizing that practise strengthens memory and sharpens - faculty, he urged his pupils to imitate what they had heard, inciting - some by admonitions, others by whipping and penalties. Each pupil - recited the next day something from what he had heard on the - preceding. The evening exercise, called the _declinatio_, was filled - with such an abundance of grammar that any one, of fair intelligence, - by attending it for a year, would have at his fingers' ends the art of - writing and speaking, and would know the meaning of all words in - common use. But since no day and no school ought to be vacant of - religion, Bernard would select for study a subject edifying to faith - and morals. The closing part of this _declinatio_, or rather - philosophical recitation, was stamped with piety: the souls of the - dead were commended, a penitential Psalm was recited, and the Lord's - Prayer. - - "For those boys who had to write exercises in prose or verse, he - selected the poets and orators, and showed how they should be imitated - in the linking of words and the elegant ending of passages. If any one - sewed another's cloth into his garment, he was reproved for the theft, - but usually was not punished. Yet Bernard gently pointed out to - awkward borrowers that whoever imitated the ancients (_majores_) - should himself become worthy of imitation by posterity. He impressed - upon his pupils the virtue of economy, and the values of things and - words: he explained where a meagreness and tenuity of diction was - fitting, and where copiousness or even excess should be allowed, and - the advantage of due measure everywhere. He admonished them to go - through the histories and poems with diligence, and daily to fix - passages in their memory. He advised them, in reading, to avoid the - superfluous, and confine themselves to the works of distinguished - authors. For, he said (quoting from Quintilian) that to follow out - what every contemptible person has said, is irksome and vainglorious, - and destructive of the capacity which should remain free for better - things. To the same effect he cited Augustine, and remarked that the - ancients thought it a virtue in a grammarian to be ignorant of - something. But since in school exercises nothing is more useful than - to practise what should be accomplished by the art, his scholars wrote - daily in prose and verse, and proved themselves in discussions."[198] - -This passage indicates with what generous use of the _auctores_ Bernard -expounded grammar and explained the orators and poets; how he assigned -portions of their works for memorizing, and with what care he corrected -his pupils' prose and metrical compositions, criticizing their knowledge -and their taste. He was a man mindful of his Christian piety toward the -dead and living, but caring greatly for the Classics, and loving study. -"The old man of Chartres (_senex Carnotensis_)," says John of Salisbury, -meaning Bernard, "named wisdom's keys in a few lines, and though I am not -taken with the sweetness of the metre, I approve the sense: - - 'Mens humilis, studium quaerendi, vita quieta, - Scrutinium tacitum, paupertas, terra aliena....'"[199] - -Bernard, Thierry, and other masters and scholars of their school, as the -advocates of classical education, detested the men called by John of -Salisbury _Cornificiani_, who were for shortening the academic course, as -one would say to-day, so that the student might finish it up in two or -three years, and proceed to the business of life. A good many in the -twelfth century adopted this notion, and turned from the pagan classics, -not as impious, but as a waste of time. Some of the good scholars of -Chartres lost heart, among them William of Conches and a certain Richard, -both teachers of John of Salisbury. They had followed Bernard's methods; -"but when the time came that so many men, to the great prejudice of truth, -preferred to seem, rather than be, philosophers and professors of the -arts, engaging to impart the whole of philosophy in less than three years, -or even two, then my masters vanquished by the clamour of the ignorant -crowd, stopped. Since then, less time has been given to grammar. So it has -come about that those who profess to teach all the arts, both liberal and -mechanical, are ignorant of the first of them, without which vainly will -one try to get the rest."[200] - -Upon these people who seemed charlatans, and yet may have represented -tendencies of the coming time, Thierry, Gilbert de la Porree,[201] and -John of Salisbury poured their sarcasms. The controversy may have -clarified Bernard's consciousness of the value of classical studies and -deepened his sense of obligation to the ancients, until it drew from him -perhaps the finest of mediaeval utterances touching the matter: "Bernard -of Chartres used to say that we were like dwarfs seated on the shoulders -of giants. If we see more and further than they, it is not due to our own -clear eyes or tall bodies, but because we are raised on high and upborne -by their gigantic bigness."[202] - -Echoes of this same controversy--have they ever quite died away?--are -heard in letters of the scholarly Peter of Blois, who was educated at -Paris in the middle of the twelfth century, became a secretary of Henry -Plantagenet and spent the greater part of his life in England, dying about -the year 1200. He writes to a friend: - - "You greatly commend your nephew, saying that never have you found a - man of subtler vein: because, forsooth, skimming over grammar, and - skipping the reading of the classical authors, he has flown to the - trickeries of the logicians, where not in the books themselves but - from abstracts and note-books, he has learned dialectic. Knowledge of - letters cannot rest on such, and the subtilty you praise may be - pernicious. For Seneca says, nothing is more odious than subtilty when - it is only subtilty. Some people, without the elements of education, - would discuss point and line and superficies, fate, chance and - free-will, physics and matter and the void, the causes of things and - the secrets of nature and the sources of the Nile! Our tender years - used to be spent in rules of grammar, analogies, barbarisms, - solecisms, tropes, with Donatus, Priscian, and Bede, who would not - have devoted pains to these matters had they supposed that a solid - basis of knowledge could be got without them. Quintilian, Caesar, - Cicero, urge youths to study grammar. Why condemn the writings of the - ancients? it is written that _in antiquis est scientia_. You rise from - the darkness of ignorance to the light of science only by their - diligent study. Jerome glories in having read Origen; Horace boasts of - reading Homer over and over. It was much to my profit, when as a - little chap I was studying how to make verses, that, as my master bade - me, I took my matter not from fables but from truthful histories. And - I profited from the letters of Hildebert of Le Mans, with their - elegance of style and sweet urbanity; for as a boy I was made to learn - some of them by heart. Besides other books, well known in the schools, - I gained from keeping company with Trogus Pompeius, Josephus, - Suetonius, Hegesippus, Quintus Curtius, Tacitus and Livy, all of whom - throw into their histories much that makes for moral edification and - the advance of liberal science. And I read other books, which had - nothing to do with history--very many of them. From all of them we - may pluck sweet flowers, and cultivate ourselves from their urbane - suavity of speech."[203] - -In another letter Peter writes to his bishop of Bath, as touching the -accusation of some "hidden detractor," that he, Peter, is but a useless -compiler, who fills letters and sermons with the plunder of the ancients -and Holy Writ: - - "Let him cease, or he will hear what he does not like; for I am full - of cracks, and can hold in nothing, as Terence says. Let him try his - hand at compiling, as he calls it.--But what of it! Though dogs may - bark and pigs may grunt, I shall always pattern on the writings of the - ancients; with them shall be my occupation; nor ever, while I am able, - shall the sun find me idle."[204] - -It is evident how broadly Peter of Blois, or John of Salisbury, or the -Chartrians, were read in the Latin Classics. Peter mentions even Tacitus, -a writer not thought to have been much read in the Middle Ages. We have -been looking at the matter rather in regard to poetry and -eloquence--_belles lettres_. But one may also note the same broad reading -(among the few who read at all) on the part of those who sought for the -ethical wisdom of the ancients. This is apparent (perhaps more apparent -than real) with Abaelard, who is ready with a store of antique ethical -citations.[205] It is also borne witness to by the treatise _Moralis -philosophia de honesto et utili_, placed among the works of Hildebert of -Le Mans,[206] but probably from the pen of William of Conches, grammaticus -post Bernardum Carnotensem opulentissimus, as John of Salisbury calls -him.[207] In some manuscripts it is entitled _Summa moralium -philosophorum_, quite appropriately. One might hardly compare it for -organic inclusiveness with the Christian _Summa_ of Thomas Aquinas; but it -may very well be likened to the more compact Sentences of the Lombard[208] -which were so solidly put together about the same time. The Lombard drew -his Sentences from the writings of the Church Fathers; William's work -consists of moral extracts, mainly from Cicero, Seneca, Sallust, Terence, -Horace, Lucan, and Boethius. The first part, _De honesto_, reviews -Prudentia, Justitia, Fortitudo, and under these a number of particular -virtues in correspondence with which the extracts are arranged. The _De -utili_ considers the adventitious goods of circumstance and fortune. - -The extracts forming the substance of this work were intelligently -selected and smoothly joined; and the treatise was much used by those who -studied the antique philosophy of life. It was drawn upon, for instance, -by that truculent and well-born Welshman, Giraldus Cambrensis, in his _De -instructione principum_, which the author wrote partly to show how evilly -Henry Plantagenet performed the functions of a king. This irrepressible -claimant of St. David's See had been long a prickly thorn for Henry's -side.[209] But he was a scholar, and quotes from the whole range of the -Latin Classics. - - -III - -When a man is not a mere transcriber, but puts something of himself into -the product of his pen, his work will reflect his personality, and may -disclose the various factors of his spiritual constitution. To discover -from the writings of mediaeval scholars the effect of their classical -studies upon their characters is of greater interest than to trace from -their citations the authors read by them. Such a compilation as the _Summa -moralium_ which has just been noticed, while plainly disclosing the latter -information, tells nothing of the personality of him who strung the -extracts together. Yet he had read writings which could hardly have failed -to influence him. Cicero and Seneca do not leave their reader unchanged, -especially if he be seeking ethical instruction. And there was a work -known to this particular compiler which moved men in the Middle Ages. Deep -must have been the effect of that book so widely read and pondered on and -loved, the _De consolatione_ of Boethius with its intimate consolings, its -ways of reasoning and looking upon life, its setting of the intellectual -above the physical, its insistence that mind rather than body makes the -man. Imagine it brought home to a vigorous struggling personality--imagine -Alfred reading and translating it, and adding to it from the teachings of -his own experience.[210] The study of such a book might form the turning -of a mediaeval life; at least could not fail to temper the convulsions of -a soul storm-driven amid unreconcilable spiritual conflicts. - -One may look back even to the time of Alfred or Charlemagne and note -suggestions coming from classical reading. For instance, the antique -civilization being essentially urban, words denoting qualities of -disciplined and polished men had sprung from city life, as contrasted with -rustic rudeness. Thus the word _urbanitas_ passed over into mediaeval use -when the quality itself hardly existed outside of the transmitted Latin -literature. For an Anglo-Saxon or a Frank to use and even partly -comprehend its significance meant his introduction to a new idea. Alcuin -writes to Charlemagne that he knows how it rejoices the latter to meet -with zeal for learning and church discipline, and how pleasing to him is -anything which is seasoned with a touch of wit--_urbanitatis sale -conditum_.[211] And again, in more curious phrase, he compliments a -certain worthy upon his metrical exposition of the creed, "wherein I have -found gold-spouting whirlpools (_aurivomos gurgites_) of spiritual -meanings abounding with gems of scholastic wit (_scholasticae -urbanitatis_)."[212] Though doubtless this "scholastic wit" was flat -enough, it was something for these men to get the notion of what was witty -and entertaining through a word so vocalized with city life as -_urbanitas_, a word that we have seen used quite knowingly by the more -sophisticated scholar, Peter of Blois. - -Again, it is matter of common observation that a feeling for nature's -loveliness depends somewhat on the growth of towns. But mediaeval men -constantly had the idea suggested to them by the classic poetry of -city-dwelling poets. Here are some lines by Alcuin or one of his friends, -expressing sentiments which never came to them from the woods with which -they were disagreeably familiar: - - "O mea cella, mihi habitatio, dulcis, amata, - Semper in aeternum, o mea cella, vale. - Undique te cingit ramis resonantibus arbos, - Silvula florigeris semper onusta comis."[213] - -These are little hints of the effect of the antique literature upon men -who still were somewhat rough-hewn. Advancing a century and a half, the -influence of classic study is seen, as it were, "in the round" in -Gerbert.[214] It is likewise clear and full in John of Salisbury, of whom -we have spoken, and shall speak again.[215] For an admirable example, -however, of the subtle working of the antique literature upon character -and temperament, we may look to that scholar-prelate whose letters the -youthful Peter of Blois studied with profit, Hildebert of Lavardin, Bishop -of Le Mans, and Archbishop of Tours. He shows the effect of the antique -not so strikingly in the knowledge which he possessed or the particular -opinions which he entertained, as in the balance and temperance of his -views, and incidentally in his fine facility of scholarship. - -Hildebert was born at Lavardin, a village near the mouth of the Loire, -about the year 1055. He belonged to an unimportant but gentle family. -Dubious tradition has it that one of his teachers was Berengar of Tours, -and that he passed some time in the monastery of Cluny, of whose great -abbot, Hugh, he wrote a life. It is more probable that he studied at Le -Mans. But whatever appears to have been the character of his early -environment, Hildebert belongs essentially to the secular clergy, and -never was a monk. While comparatively young, he was made head of the -cathedral school of Le Mans, and then archdeacon. In the year 1096, the -old bishop of Le Mans died, and Hildebert, then about forty years of age, -was somewhat quickly chosen his successor, by the clergy and people of the -town, in spite of the protests of certain of the canons of the cathedral. -The none too happy scholar-bishop found himself at once a powerless but -not negligible element of a violently complicated feudal situation. There -was the noble Helias, Count of Maine, who was holding his domain against -Robert de Bellesme, the latter slackly supported by William Rufus of -England, who claimed the overlordship of the land. Helias reluctantly -acquiesced in Hildebert's election. Not so Rufus, who never ceased to hate -and persecute the man that had obtained the see which had been in the gift -of his father, William the Conqueror. It happened soon after that Count -Helias was taken prisoner by his opponent, and was delivered over to Rufus -at Rouen. But Fulk of Anjou now thrust himself into this feudal _melee_, -appeared at Le Mans, entered, and was acknowledged as its lord. He left a -garrison, and departed before the Red King reached the town. The latter -began its siege, but soon made terms with Fulk, by which Le Mans was to be -given to Rufus, Helias was to be set free, and many other matters were -left quite unsettled. - -Now Rufus entered the town (1098), where Hildebert nervously received him; -Helias, set free by the King, offered to become his feudal retainer; Rufus -would have none of him; so Helias defied the King, and was permitted to go -his way by that strange man, who held his knightly honour sacred, but -otherwise might commit any atrocity prompted by rage or greed. It was well -for Helias that trouble with the French King now drew Rufus to the north. -The next year, 1099, Rufus in England heard that the Count had renewed the -war, and captured Le Mans, except the citadel. He hurried across the -channel, rushed through the land, entered Le Mans, and passed on through -it, chasing Helias. But the war languished, and Rufus returned to Le Mans, -or to what was left of it. Hildebert had cause to tremble. He had met the -King on the latter's hurried arrival from England for the war. Rufus had -spoken him fair. But now, at Le Mans, he was accused before the monarch of -complicity in the revolt. Quickly flared the King's anger against the man -whom he never had ceased to detest. He ordered him to pull down the towers -of his cathedral, which rose threatening and massive over the city's ruins -and the citadel of the King. What could the defenceless bishop do to avert -disgrace and the desolation of his beloved church? Words were left him, -but they did not prove effectual. Rufus commanded him to choose between -immediate compliance and going to England, there to submit himself to the -judgment of the English bishops. He accepted the latter alternative, and -followed the King, leaving his diocese ruined and his people dispersed. In -England, Rufus dangled him along between fear and hope, till at last the -disheartened prelate returned to the Continent, having ambiguously -consented to pull down those towers. But instead, he set to work to repair -the devastation of his diocese. The reiterated mandate of the King was not -long in following him, and this time coupled with an accusation of -treason. Hildebert's state was desperate. His clergy were forbidden to -obey him, his palace was sacked, his own property destroyed. Such were -William's methods of persuasion. Then the King proposed that the bishop -should purge himself by the ordeal of hot iron. Hildebert, the bishop, the -theologian, the scholar, was almost on the verge of taking up the -challenge, when a letter from Yves, the saintly Bishop of Chartres, -dissuaded him. At this moment, with ruin for his portion, and no escape, -an arrow ended the Red King's life in the New Forest. It was the year of -grace 1100. - -Now, what a change! Henry Beauclerc was from the first his friend, as -William Rufus to the last had been his enemy. Hitherto Hildebert has -appeared weakly endeavouring to elude destruction, and perhaps with no -unshaken loyalty in his bosom toward any cause except his dire -necessities. Henceforth, sailing a calmer sea, he repays Henry's favour -with adherence and admiration. He has no support to offer Anselm of -Canterbury, still struggling with the English monarchy over investitures; -nor has he one word of censure for the clever cold-eyed scholar King who -kept his brother, Robert of Normandy, a prisoner for twenty-eight years -till he died. - -Hildebert had still thirty years of life before him; nor were they all to -be untroubled. Shortly after the Red King's death, he made a voyage to -Rome, to obtain the papal benediction. To judge from his poems, he was -deeply impressed with the ruins of the ancient city. Returning he devoted -himself to the affairs of his diocese and to rebuilding the cathedral and -other churches of Le Mans. In 1125, in spite of his unwillingness, for he -was seventy years old, he was enthroned Archbishop of Tours, where he was -to be worried by disputes with Louis le Gros of France over investitures. -But he acquitted himself with vigour, especially through his letters. A -famous one relates to this struggle of his closing years: - - "In adversity it is a comfort to hope for happier times. Long has this - hope flattered me; and as the harvest in the fields cheers the - countryman, the expectation of a fair season has comforted my soul. - But now I no longer hope for the clearing of the cloudy weather, nor - see where the storm-driven ship, on whose deck I sit, may gain the - harbour of rest. - - "Friends are silent; silent are the priests of Jesus Christ. And those - also are silent through whose prayers I thought the king would be - reconciled with me. I thought indeed, but in their silence the king - has added to the pain of my wounds. Yet it was theirs to resist the - injury to the canonical institutes of the Church. Theirs was it, if - the matter had demanded it, to raise a wall before the house of - Israel. Yet with the most serene king there is call for exhortation - rather than threat, for advice rather than command, for instruction - rather than the rod. By these he should have been drawn to agree, by - these reverently taught not to sheath his arrows in an aged priest, - nor make void the canonical laws, nor persecute the ashes of a church - already buried, ashes in which I eat the bread of grief, in which I - drink the cup of mourning, from which to be snatched away and escape - is to pass from death to life. - - "Yet amid these dire straits, anger has never triumphed over me, that - I should raise a hue and cry against the anointed of the Lord, or - wrest peace from him with the strong hand and by the arm of the - Church. Suspect is the peace to which high potentates are brought not - by love, but by force. Easily is it broken, and sometimes the final - state is worse than the first. There is another way by which, Christ - leading, I can better reach it. I will cast my thought upon the Lord, - and He will give me the desire of my heart. The Lord remembered - Joseph, forgotten by Pharaoh's chief butler when prosperity had - returned to him; He remembered David abandoned by his own son. Perhaps - He will remember even me, and bring the tossing ship to rest on the - desired shore. He it is who looks upon the petition of the meek, and - does not spurn their prayers. He it is in whose hand the hearts of - kings are wax. If I shall have found grace in His eyes, I shall easily - obtain the grace of the king or advantageously lose it. For to offend - man for the sake of God is to win God's grace."[216] - -Hildebert was a classical scholar, and in his time unmatched as a writer -of Latin prose and verse. Many of his elegiac poems survive, some of them -so antique in sentiment and so correct in metre as to have been taken for -products of the pagan period. One of the best is an elegy on Rome -obviously inspired by his visit to that city of ruins: - - "Par tibi, Roma, nihil, cum sis prope tota ruina." - -Its closing lines are interesting: - - "Hic superum formas superi mirantur et ipsi, - Et cupiunt fictis vultibus esse pares. - Non potuit natura deos hoc ore creare - Quo miranda deum signa creavit homo. - Vultus adest his numinibus, potiusque coluntur - Artificum studio quam deitate sua. - Urbs felix, si vel dominis urbs illa careret, - Vel dominis esset turpe carere fide!" - -Such phrases, such frank admiration for the idols of pagan Rome, are -startling from the pen of a contemporary of St. Bernard. The spell of the -antique lay on Hildebert, as on others of his time. "The gods themselves -marvel at their own images, and desire to equal their sculptured forms. -Nature was unable to make gods with such visages as man has created in -these wondrous images of the gods. There is a look (_vultus_) about these -deities, and they are worshipped for the skill of the sculptor rather than -for their divinity."[217] Hildebert was not only a bishop, he was a -Christian; but the sense and feeling of ancient Rome had entered into him. -Besides the poem just quoted, he wrote another, either in Rome or after -his return, Christian in thought but most antique in sympathy and turn of -phrase. - - "Dum simulacra mihi, dum numina vana placerent, - Militia, populo, moenibus alta fui; - - * * * * * - - ruit alta senatus - Gloria, procumbunt templa, theatra jacent." - -The antique feeling of these lines is hardly balanced by the expressed -sentiment: "plus Caesare Petrus!"[218] And again we hear the echo of the -antique in - - "Nil artes, nil pura fides, nil gloria linguae, - Nil fons ingenii, nil probitas sine re."[219] - -Hildebert has also a poem "On his Exile," perhaps written while in England -with the Red King. Quite in antique style it sings the loss of friends and -fields, gardens and granaries, which the writer possessed while _prospera -fata_ smiled. Then - - "Jurares superos intra mea vota teneri!" - ---a very antique sentiment. But the Christian faith of the despoiled and -exiled bishop reasserts itself as the poem closes.[220] Did Hildebert also -write the still more palpably "antique" elegiacs on Hermaphrodite, and -other questionable subjects?[221] That is hard to say. He may or may not -have been the author of a somewhat scurrilous squib against a woman who -seems to have sent him verses: - - "Femina perfida, femina sordida, digna catenis. - - "O miserabilis, insatiabilis, insatiata, - Desine scribere, desine mittere, carmina blandia, - Carmina turpia, carmina mollia, vix memoranda, - Nec tibi mittere, nec tibi scribere, disposui me. - - "Mens tua vitrea, plumbea, saxea, ferrea, nequam, - Fingere, fallere, prodere, perdere, rem putat aequam."[222] - -With all his classical leanings, the major part of Hildebert was -Christian. His theological writings which survive, his zeal against -certain riotous heretics, and in general his letters, leave no doubt of -this. It is from the Christian point of view that he gives his sincerest -counsels; it is from that that he balances the advantages of an active or -contemplative life, the claims of the Christian _vita activa_ and _vita -contemplativa_. Yet his classic tastes gave temperance to his Christian -views, and often drew him to sheer scholarly pleasures and to an antique -consideration of the incidents of life. - -How sweetly the elements were mixed in him appears in a famous letter -written to William of Champeaux, that Goliath of realism whom Abaelard -discomfited in the Paris schools. The unhappy William retreated a little -way across the Seine, and laid the foundations of the abbey of St. Victor -in the years between 1108 and 1113. He sought to abandon his studies and -his lectures, and surrender himself to the austere salvation of his soul, -and yet scarcely with such irrevocable purpose as would rebuff the -temperate advice of Hildebert's letter proffered with tactful -understanding. - - "Over thy change of life my soul is glad and exults, that at length it - has come to thee to determine to philosophize. For thou hadst not the - true odour of a philosopher so long as thou didst not cull beauty of - conduct from thy philosophic knowledge. Now, as honey from the - honeycomb, thou hast drawn from that a worthy rule of living. This is - to gather all of thee within virtue's boundaries, no longer - huckstering with nature for thy life, but attending less to what the - flesh is able for, than to what the spirit wills. This is truly to - philosophize; to live thus is already to enter the fellowship of those - above. Easily shalt thou come to them if thou dost advance - disburdened. The mind is a burden to itself until it ceases to hope - and fear. Because Diogenes looked for no favour, he feared the power - of no one. What the cynic infidel abhorred, the Christian doctor far - more amply must abhor, since his profession is so much more fruitful - through faith. For such are stumbling-blocks of conduct, impeding - those who move toward virtue. - - "But the report comes that you have been persuaded to abstain from - lecturing. Hear me as to this. It is virtue to furnish the material of - virtue. Thy new way of life calls for no partial sacrifice, but a - holocaust. Offer thyself altogether to the Lord, since so He - sacrificed Himself for thee. Gold shines more when scattered than when - locked up. Knowledge also when distributed takes increase, and unless - given forth, scorning the miserly possessor, it slips away. Therefore - do not close the streams of thy learning."[223] - -Eventually William followed this, or other like advice. One sees -Hildebert's sympathetic point of view; he entirely approves of William's -renunciation of the world--a good bishop of the twelfth century might also -have wished to renounce its troublous honours! Yes, William has at last -turned to the true and most disburdened way of living. But this -abandonment of worldly ends entails no abandonment of Christian knowledge -or surrender of the cause of Christian learning. Nay, let William resume, -and herein give himself to God's will without reserve. - -So the letter presents a temperate and noble view of the matter, a view as -sound in the twentieth century as in the twelfth. And a like broad -consideration Hildebert brings to a more particular discussion of the two -modes of Christian living, the _vita activa_ and the _vita contemplativa_, -Leah and Rachel, Martha and Mary. He amply distinguishes these two ways of -serving God from any mode of life with selfish aims. It happened that a -devout monk and friend of Hildebert was made abbot of the monastery of St. -Vincent, in the neighbourhood of Le Mans. The administrative duties of an -abbot might be as pressing as a bishop's, and this good man deplored his -withdrawal from a life of more complete contemplation. So Hildebert wrote -him a long discursive letter, of which our extracts will give the thread -of argument: - - "You bewail the peace of contemplation which is snatched away, and the - imposed burden of active responsibilities. You were sitting with Mary - at the feet of the Lord Jesus, when lo, you were ordered to serve with - Martha. You confess that those dishes which Mary receives, sitting and - listening, are more savoury than those which zealous Martha prepares. - In these, indeed, is the bread of men, in those the bread of angels." - -And Hildebert descants upon the raptures of the _vita contemplativa_, of -which his friend is now bereft. - - "The contemplative and the active life, my dearest brother, you - sometimes find in the same person, and sometimes apart. As the - examples of Scripture show us. Jacob was joined to both Leah and - Rachel; Christ teaches in the fields, anon He prays on the mountains; - Moses is in the tents of the people, and again speaks with God upon - the heights. So Peter, so Paul. Again, action alone is found, as in - Leah and Martha, while contemplation gleams in Mary and Rachel. - Martha, as I think, represents the clergy of our time, with whom the - press of business closes the shrine of contemplation, and dries up the - sacrifice of tears. - - "No one can speak with the Lord while he has to prattle with the whole - world. Such a prattler am I, and such a priest, who when I spend the - livelong day caring for the herds, have not a moment for the care of - souls. Affairs, the enemies of my spirit, come upon me; they claim me - for their own, they thieve the private hour of prayer, they defraud - the services of the sanctuary, they irritate me with their stings by - day and infest my sleep; and what I can scarcely speak of without - tears, the creeping furtive memory of disputes follows me miserable to - the altar's sacraments,--all such are even as the vultures which - Abraham drove away from the carcases (Gen. xv. 11). - - "Nay more, what untold loss of virtue is entailed by these occupations - of the captive mind! While under their power we do not even serve with - Martha. She ministered, but to Christ; she bustled about, but for - Christ. We truly, who like Martha bustle about, and, like Martha, - minister, neither bustle about for Christ nor minister to Him. For if - in such bustling ministry thou seekest to win thine own desire, art - taken with the gossip of the mob, or with pandering to carnal - pleasures, thou art neither the Martha whom thou dost counterfeit nor - the Mary for whom thou dost sigh. - - "In that case, dearest brother, you would have just cause for grief - and tears. But if you do the part of Martha simply, you do well; if, - like Jacob, you hasten to and fro between Leah and Rachel, you do - better; if with Mary you sit and listen, you do best. For action is - good, whose pressing instancy, though it kill contemplation, draws - back the brother wandering from Christ. Yet it is better, sometimes - seated, to lay aside administrative cares, and amid the irksome nights - of Leah, draw fresh life from Rachel's loved embrace. From this - intermixture the course to the celestials becomes more inclusive, for - thereby the same soul now strives for the blessedness of men and anon - participates in that of the angels. But of the zeal single for Mary, - why should I speak? Is not the Saviour's word enough, 'Mary hath - chosen the best part, which shall not be taken from her.'" - -And in closing, Hildebert shows his friend the abbot that for him the true -course is to follow Jacob interchanging Leah and Rachel; and then in the -watches of his pastoral duties the celestial vision shall be also -his.[224] - -Could any one adjust more fairly this contest, so insistent throughout the -annals of mediaeval piety, between active duties and heavenly -contemplation? The only solution for abbot and bishop was to join Leah -with Rachel. And how clearly Hildebert sees the pervasive peril of the -active life, that the prelate be drawn to serve his pleasures and not -Christ. Many souls of prelates had that cast into hell! - -In theory Hildebert is clear as day, and altogether Christian, so far as -we have followed the counsels of these letters. But in fact the quiet life -had for him a temptation, to which he yielded himself more generously than -to any of the grosser lures of his high prelacy. This temptation, so -alluring and insidious, so fairly masked under the proffer of learning -leading to fuller Christian knowledge, was of course the all too beloved -pagan literature, and the all too humanly convincing plausibilities of -pagan philosophy. Hildebert's writings evince that kind of classical -scholarship which springs only from great study and great love. His soul -does not appear to have been riven by a consciousness of sin in this -behoof. Sometimes he passes so gently from Christian to pagan ethics, as -to lead one to suspect that he did not deeply feel the inconsistency -between them. Or again, he seems satisfied with the moral reasonings of -paganism, and sets them forth without a qualm. For there was the antique -pagan side of our good bishop; and how pagan thoughts and views of life -had become a part of Hildebert's nature, appears in a most interesting -letter written to King Henry, consoling him upon the loss of his son and -the noble company so gaily sailing from Normandy in that ill-starred -_White Ship_ in the year 1120. - -Hildebert begins reminding the King how much more it is for a monarch to -rule himself than others. Hitherto he has triumphed over fortune, if -fortune be anything; now she has wounded him with her sharpest dart. Yet -that cannot penetrate the well-guarded mind. It is wisdom not to vaunt -oneself in prosperity, nor be overwhelmed with grief in adversity. -Hildebert then reasons on the excellence of man's nature and will; he -speaks of the effect of Adam's sin in loss of grace and entailment of -misery on the human race. He quotes from the Old Testament and from -Virgil. Then he proceeds more specifically with his fortifying arguments. -Their sum is, let the breast of man abound in weapons of defence and -contemn the thrusts of fortune; there is nothing over which the triumphant -soul may not triumph. - - "Unhappy he who lacks this armament; and most unhappy he who besides - does not know it. Here Democritus found matter for laughter, - Demosthenes (_sic_) matter for tears. Far be it from thee that the - chance cast of things should affect thee so, and the loss of wisdom - follow the loss of offspring. Thou hast suffered on dry land more - grievous shipwreck than thy son in the brine, if fortune's storm has - wrested wisdom from the wise." - -After a while Hildebert passes on to consider what is man, and wherein -consists his welfare: - - "To any one carefully considering what man is, nothing will seem more - probable than that he is a divine animal, distinguished by a certain - share of divinity (_numinis_). By bone and flesh he smacks of the - earth. By reason his affinity to God is shown. Moses, inspired, - certifies that by this prerogative man was created in the image of - God. Whence it also follows for man, that he should through reason - recognize and love his true good. Now reason teaches that what - pertains to virtue is the true good, and that it is within us. The - things we temporally possess are good only by opinion (_opinione_, - _i.e._ not _ratione_), and these are about us. What is about us is not - within our _jus_ but another's (_alterius juris sunt_). Chance directs - them; they neither come nor stand under our arbitrament. For us they - are at the lender's will (_precaria_), like a slave belonging to - another.[225] Through such, true felicity is neither had nor lost. - Indeed no one is happy, no one is wretched by reason of what is - another's. It is his own that makes a man's good or ill, and whatever - is not within him is not his own." - -Then Hildebert speaks of dignities, of wife and child, of the fruits of -the earth and riches--_bona vaga_, _bona sunt pennata haec omnia_. Men -quarrel and struggle about all these things--_ecce vides quanta mundus -laboret insania_.[226] - -No one need point out how much more natural this reasoning would have been -from the lips of Seneca than from those of an archiepiscopal contemporary -of St. Bernard. One may, however, comment on the patent fact that this -reflection of the antique in Hildebert's ethical consolation reflects a -manner of reasoning rather than an emotional mood, and in this it is an -instance of the general fact that mediaeval methods of reasoning -consciously or unconsciously followed the antique; while the emotion, the -love and yearning, of mediaeval religion was more largely the gift of -Christianity. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -EVOLUTION OF MEDIAEVAL LATIN PROSE - - -Classical antiquity lay far back of the mediaeval period, while in the -nearer background pressed the centuries of transition, the time of the -Church Fathers. The patristic material and a crude knowledge of the -antique passed over to the early Middle Ages. Mediaeval progress was to -consist, very largely, in the mastery and appropriation of the one and the -other. - -The varied illustration of these propositions has filled a large portion -of this work. In this and the next chapter we are concerned with -literature, properly speaking; and with the effect of the Classics, the -pure literary antique, upon mediaeval literary productions. The latter are -to be viewed as literature; not considering their substance, but their -form, their composition, style, and temperamental shading, qualities which -show the faculties and temper of their authors. We are to discover, if we -can, wherein the qualities of mediaeval literature reflect the Latin -Classics, or in any way betray their influence. - -It is an affair of dull diligence to learn what Classics were read by the -various mediaeval writers; and likewise is it a dull affair to note in -mediaeval writings the direct borrowing from the Classics of fact, -opinion, sentiment, or phrase. Such borrowing was incessant, resorted to -as of course wherever opportunity offered and the knowledge was at hand. -It would not commonly occur to a mediaeval writer to state in his own way -what he could take from an ancient author, save in so far as change of -medium--from prose to verse, or from Latin to the vernacular--compelled -him. So the church builders in Rome never thought of hewing new blocks of -stone, or making new columns, when some ancient palace or temple afforded -a quarry. The details of such spoliations offer little interest in -comparison with the effect of antique architecture upon later styles. So -we should like to discover the effect of the ancient compositions upon the -mediaeval, and observe how far the faculties and mental processes of -classic authors, incorporate in their writings, were transmitted to -mediaeval men, to become incorporate in theirs. - -Unless you are Virgil or Cicero, you cannot write like Virgil or Cicero. -Writing, real writing, that is to say, creative self-expressive -composition, is the personal product and closely mirrored reflex of the -writer's temperament and mentality. It gives forth indirectly the -influences which have blended in him, education and environment, his past -and present. His personality makes his style, his untransmittable style. -Yet a group of men affected by the same past, and living at the same time -and place, or under like spiritual influences, may show a like faculty and -taste. Having more in common with one another than with men of other time, -their mental processes, and therefore their ways of writing, will present -more common qualities. Around and above them, as well as through their -natal and acquired faculties, sweeps the genius of the language, itself -the age-long product of a like-minded race. In harmony with it, not in -opposition and repugnancy, each writer must, if he will write that -language, shape his more personal diction. - -Obviously the personal elements in classic writings were no more capable -of transmission than the personal qualities of the writers. Likewise, the -genius of the Latin language, though one might think it fixed in approved -compositions, changed with the spiritual fortune of the Roman people, and -constantly transmitted an altered self and novel tenets of construction to -control the linguistic usages of succeeding men. None but himself could -have written Cicero's letters. No man of Juvenal's time could have written -the _Aeneid_, nor any man of the time of Diocletian the histories of -Tacitus. There were, however, common elements in these compositions, all -of them possessing certain qualities which are associated with classical -writing. These may be difficult to formulate, but they become clear enough -in contrast with the qualities of mediaeval Latin literature. The -mediaeval man did not feel and reason like a contemporary of Virgil or -Cicero; he had not the same training in _Greek_ literature; he did not -have the same definitude of conception, did not care so much that a -composition should have limit and the unity springing from adherence to a -single topic; he did not, in fine, stand on the same level of attainment -and faculty and taste with men of the Augustan time. He had his own -heights and depths, his own temperament and predilections, his own -capacities. Reading the Classics had not transformed him into Cicero or -Seneca, or set his feet in the Roman Forum. His feet wandered in the ways -of the Middle Ages, and whatever he wrote in prose or verse, in Latin or -in his own vernacular, was himself and of himself, and but indirectly due -to the antecedent influences which had been transmuted even in entering -his nature and becoming part of his temper and faculty. - -Any consideration of the knowledge and appreciation of the Classics in the -Middle Ages would be followed naturally by a consideration of their effect -upon mediaeval composition; which in turn forms part of any discussion of -the literary qualities of mediaeval Latin literature. But inasmuch as -mediaeval form and diction tend to remove further and further from -classical standards, the whole discussion may seem a _lucus a non lucendo_ -for all the light it throws upon the effect of the Classics on mediaeval -literature. Our best plan will be to note the beginnings of mediaeval -Latinity in that post-Augustan and largely patristic diction which had -been enriched and reinvigorated with many phrases from daily speech; and -then to follow the living if sluggish river as it moves on, receiving -increment along its course, its currents mottled with the silt of -mediaeval Italy, France, Germany. We shall suppose this flood to divide in -rivers of Latin prose and verse; and we may follow them, and see where -they overflow their channels, carrying antique flotsam into the ample -marshes of vernacular poetry. - -There has always been a difference in diction between speech and -literature. At Rome, Cicero and Caesar, and of course the poets, did not, -in writing, use quite the language of the people. All the words of daily -speech were not taken into the literary or classical vocabulary, which had -often quite other words of its own. Moreover the writers, in forming their -prose and verse and constructing their compositions, were affected deeply -by their study of Greek literature.[227] If Caesar, Cicero, Virgil, and -their friends spoke differently from the Roman shopkeepers, there was a -still greater difference between their writings and the parlance of the -town. - -No one need be told that it was the spoken, and not the classical Latin, -which in Italy, Spain, Provence, and Northern France developed into -Italian, Spanish, Provencal, and French. On the other hand, the descent of -written mediaeval Latin from the classical diction or the popular speech, -or both, is not so clear, or at least not so simple. It cannot be said -that mediaeval Latin came straight from the classical; and manifestly it -cannot have sprung from the popular spoken Latin, like the Romance -tongues, without other influence or admixture; because then, instead of -remaining Latin, it would have become Romance; which it did not. Evidently -mediaeval Latin, the literary and to some extent the spoken medium of -educated men in the Middle Ages, must have carried classic strains, or -have kept itself Latin by the study of Latin grammar and a conscious -adherence to a veritable, if not classical, Latin diction. The mediaeval -reading of the Classics, and the earnest and constant study of Latin -grammar spoken of in the previous chapter, were the chief means by which -mediaeval Latin maintained its Latinity. Nevertheless, while it kept the -word forms and inflections of classical Latin, with most of the classical -vocabulary, it also took up an indefinite supplement of words from the -spoken Latin of the late imperial or patristic period. - -In order to understand the genesis and qualities of mediaeval Latin, one -must bear in mind (as with most things mediaeval) that its immediate -antecedents lie in the transitional fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries, -and not in the classical period.[228] Those centuries went far toward -declassicizing Latin prose, by departing from the balanced structure of -the classic sentences and introducing words from the spoken tongue. The -style became less correct, freer, and better suited to the expression of -the novel thoughts and interests coming with Christianity. The change is -seen in the works of the men to whom it was largely due, Tertullian, -Jerome, and other great patristic writers.[229] Such men knew the Classics -well, and regarded them as literary models, and yet wrote differently. For -a new spirit was upon them and new necessities of expression, and they -lived when, even outside of Christian circles, the classic forms of style -were loosening with the falling away of the strenuous intellectual temper, -the poise, the self-reliance and the self-control distinguishing the -classical epoch. - -The stylistic genius of Augustine and Jerome was not the genius of the -formative beginnings of the Romance tongues, with, for instance, its -inability to rely on the close logic of the case ending, and its need to -help the meaning by the more explicit preposition. Yet the spirit of these -two great men was turning that way. They were not classic writers, but -students of the Classics, who assisted their own genius by the study of -what no longer was themselves. So in the following centuries the most -careful Latin writers are students of the Classics, and do not study -Jerome and Augustine for style. Yet their writings carry out the -tendencies beginning (or rather not beginning) with these two. - -It was not in diction alone that the Fathers were the forerunners of -mediaeval writers. _Classic_ Latin authors, both from themselves and -through their study of Greek literature, had the sense and faculty of -form. Their works maintain a clear sequence of thought, along with strict -pertinency to the main topic, or adherence to the central current of the -narrative, avoiding digression and refraining from excessive -amplification. The classic writer did not lose himself in his subject, or -wander with it wherever it might lead him. But in patristic writings the -subject is apt to dominate the man, draw him after its own necessities, or -by its casual suggestions cause him to digress. The Fathers in their -polemic or expository works became prolix and circumstantial, intent, like -a lawyer with a brief, on proving every point and leaving no loophole to -the adversary. In their works literary unity and strict sequence of -argument may be cast to the winds. Above all, as it seems to us, and as it -would have seemed to Caesar or Cicero or Tacitus, allegorical -interpretation carries them at its own errant and fantastic will into -footless mazes. - -Yet whoever will understand and appreciate the writings of the Fathers and -of the mediaeval generations after them, should beware of inelastic -notions. The question of unity hangs on what the writer deems the -veritable topic of his work, and that may be the universal course of the -providence of God, which was the subject of Augustine's _Civitas Dei_. -Indeed, the infinite relationship of any Christian topic was like enough -to break through academic limits of literary unity. Likewise, the proper -sequence of thought depends on what constitutes the true connection -between one matter and another; it must follow what with the writer are -the veritable relationships of his topics. If the visible facts of a man's -environment and the narratives of history are to him primarily neither -actual facts nor literal narratives, but symbols and allegories of -spiritual things, then the true sequence of thought for him is from symbol -to symbol and from allegory to allegory. He is justified in ignoring the -apparent connection of visible facts and the logic of the literal story, -and in surrendering himself to that sequence of thought which follows what -is for him the veritable significance of the matter. - -Yet here we must apply another standard besides that of the writer's -conception of his subject's significance. He should be wise, and not -foolish. Other men and later ages will judge him according to their own -best wisdom. And with respect to the writings of the Fathers viewed as -literature, the modern critic cannot fail to see them entering upon that -course of prolixity which in mediaeval writings will develop into the -endless; looking forward, he will see their errant habits resolving into -the mediaeval lack of determined topic, and their symbolically driven -sequences of thought turning into the most ridiculous topical transitions, -as the less cogent faculties of later men permit themselves to be -_suggested_ anywhither. - -The Fathers developed their distinguishing qualities of style and language -under the demands of the topics absorbing them, and the influence of modes -of feeling coming with Christianity. They were compelling an established -language to express novel matter. In the centuries after them, further -changes were to come through the linguistic tendencies moulding the -evolution of the Romance tongues, through the counter influence of the -study of grammar and rhetoric, and also through the ignorance and -intellectual limitations of the writers. But as with the Latin of the -Fathers, so with the Latin of the Middle Ages, the change of style and -language was intimately and spiritually dependent upon the minds and -temperaments of the writers and the qualities of the subjects for which -they were seeking an expression. A profound influence in the evolution of -mediaeval Latin was the continual endeavour of the mediaeval genius to -express the thoughts and feelings through which it was becoming itself. -With impressive adequacy and power the Christian writers of the Middle -Ages moulded their inherited and acquired Latin tongue to utter the varied -matters which moved their minds and lifted up their hearts. We marvel to -see a language which once had told the stately tale of Rome here lowered -to fantastic incident and dull stupidity, then with almost gospel -simplicity telling the moving story of some saintly life; again sonorously -uttering thoughts to lift men from the earth and denunciations crushing -them to hell; quivering with hope and fear and love, and chanting the last -verities of the human soul. - -As to the evolution of various styles of written Latin from the close of -the patristic period on through the following centuries, one may premise -the remark that there would commonly be two opposite influences upon the -writer; that of the genius of his native tongue, and that of his education -in Latinity. If he lived in a land where Teutonic speech had never given -way to the spoken Latin of the Empire, his native tongue would be so -different from the Latin which he learned at school, that while it might -impede, it could hardly draw to its own genius the learned language. But -in Romance countries there was no such absolute difference between the -vernacular and the Latin, and the analytic genius of the growing Romance -dialects did not fail to affect the latter. Accordingly in France, for -example, the spoken Latin dialect, or one may say the genius that was -forming the old French dialects to what they were to be, tends to break up -the ancient periods, to introduce the auxiliary verb in the place of -elaborate inflections, and rely on prepositions instead of case endings, -which were disappearing and whose force was ceasing to be felt. One result -was to simplify the order of words in a sentence; for it was not possible -to move a noun with its accompanying preposition wherever it had been -feasible to place a noun whose relation to the rest of the sentence was -felt from its case ending. Gregory of Tours is the famous example of these -tendencies, with his _Historia francorum_, an ideal forerunner of -Froissart. He became Bishop of Tours in the year 573. In his writings he -followed the instincts of the inchoate Romance tongues. He acknowledges -and perhaps overstates his ignorance of Latin grammar and the rules of -composition. Such ignorance was destined to become still blanker; and -ignorance in itself was a disintegrating influence upon written Latin, and -also gave freer play to the gathering tendencies of Romance speech. - -Evidently, had all these influences worked unchecked, they would have -obliterated Latinity from mediaeval Latin. Grammatical and rhetorical -education countered them effectively, and the mighty genius of the ancient -language endured in the extant masterpieces. Nevertheless the spirit of -classical Latinity was never again to be a spontaneous creative power. -The most that men thenceforth could do was to study, and endeavour to -imitate, the forms in which it had embodied its living self. - -In brief, some of the chief influences upon the writing of Latin in the -Middle Ages were: the classical genius dead, leaving only its works for -imitation; the school education in Latin grammar and rhetoric; endeavour -to follow classic models and write correctly; inability to do so from lack -of capacity and knowledge; conscious disregard of classicism; the spirit -of the Teutonic tongues clogging Latinity, and that of the Romance tongues -deflecting it from classical constructions; and finally, the plastic -faculties of advancing Christian mediaeval civilization educing power from -confusion, and creating modes of language suited to express the thoughts -and feelings of mediaeval men. - -The life, that is to say the living development, of mediaeval Latin prose, -was to lie in the capacity of successive generations of educated men to -maintain a sufficient grammatical correctness, while at the same time -writing Latin, not classically, but in accordance with the necessities and -spirit of their times. There resulted an enormous literature which was not -dead, nor altogether living, and lacked throughout the spontaneity of -writings in a mother tongue; for Latin was not the speech of hearth and -home, nor everywhere the tongue of the market-place and camp. But it was -the language of mediaeval education and acquired culture; it was the -language also of the universal church, and, above all other tongues, -expressed the thoughts by which men were saved or damned. More profoundly -than any vernacular mediaeval literature, the Latin literature of the -Middle Ages expresses the mediaeval mind. It thundered with the authority -that held the keys of heaven; it was resonant with feeling, and through -long centuries gave voice to emotions, shattering, terror-stricken, -convulsively loving. When, say with the close of the eleventh century, the -mediaeval peoples had absorbed with power the teachings of patristic -Christianity, and had undergone some centuries of Latin schooling, and -when under these two chief influences certain distinctive and homogeneous -ways of thinking, feeling, and looking upon life, had been reached; when, -in fine, the Middle Ages had become themselves and had evolved a genius -that could create,--then and from that time appears the adaptability and -power of mediaeval Latin to serve the ends of intellectual effort and the -expression of emotion. - -To estimate the literary qualities of classical Latin is a simpler task -than to judge the Latinity and style of the Latin literature of the Middle -Ages. Classic Latin prose has a common likeness. In general one feels that -what Cicero and Caesar would have rejected, Tacitus and Quintilian would -not have admitted. The syntax of these writers shows still greater -uniformity. No such common likeness, or avoidance of stylistic aberration -and grammatical solecism, obtains in mediaeval prose or verse. The one and -the other include many kinds of Latin, and vary from century to century, -diversified in idiom and deflected from linguistic uniformity by -influences of race and native speech, of ignorance and knowledge. He who -would appreciate mediaeval Latin will be diffident of academic standards, -and mistrust his classical predilections lest he see aberration and -barbarism where he might discover the evolution of new constructions and -novel styles; lest he bestow encomium upon clever imitations of classical -models, and withhold it from more living creations of the mediaeval -spirit. He will realize that to appreciate mediaeval Latin literature, he -must shelve his Virgil and his Cicero.[230] - -The following pages do not offer themselves even as a slight sketch of -mediaeval Latin literature. Their purpose is to indicate the stages of -development of the prose and the phases of evolution of the verse; and to -illustrate the way in which antique themes and antique knowledge passed -into vernacular poetry. Classical standards will supply us less with a -point of view than with a point of departure. Nothing more need be said -of the Latin of the Church Fathers and Gregory of Tours. But one must -refer to the Carolingian period, in order to appreciate the Latin styles -of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. - -The revival of education and classical scholarship under the strong rule -and fostering care of the greatest of mediaeval monarchs has not always -been rightly judged. The vision of that prodigious personality ruling, -christianizing, striving to civilize masses of barbarians and barbarized -descendants of Romans and provincials; at the same time with eager -interest endeavouring to revive the culture of the past, and press it into -the service of the Christian faith; the striking success of his -endeavours, men of learning coming from Ireland, England, Spain, and -Italy, creating a peripatetic centre of knowledge at the imperial court, -and establishing schools in many a monastery and episcopal residence--all -this has never failed to arouse enthusiasm for the great achievement, and -has veiled the creative deadness of it all, a deadness which in some -provinces of intellectual endeavour was quite veritably moribund, while in -others it betokened the necessary preparation for creative epochs to -come.[231] - -Carolingian scholarship was directed to the mastery of Latin. Grammar was -taught, and the rules of composition. Then the scholars were bidden, or -bade themselves, do likewise. So they wrote verse or prose according to -their school lessons. They might write correctly; but they had no style of -their own. This was hopelessly true as to their metrical verses;[232] it -was only somewhat less tangibly true of their prose. The "classic" of the -period, in the eyes of modern classical scholars and also in the opinion -of the mediaeval centuries, is Einhard's _Life of Charlemagne_. Numberless -encomiums have been passed on it, and justly too. It was an excellent -imitation of Suetonius's _Life of Augustus_; and the writer had made a -careful study of Caesar and Livy.[233] There is no need to quote from a -writing so accessible and well known. Yet one remark may be added to what -others have said: if Einhard's composition was an excellent copy of -classical Latin it was nothing else; it has no stylistic -individuality.[234] - -Turning from this famous biography, we will illustrate our point by -quoting from the letters of him who stands as the type of the Carolingian -revival, the Anglo-Saxon Alcuin. All praise to this noble educational -coadjutor of Charlemagne; his learning was conscientious; his work was -important, his character was lovable. His affectionate nature speaks in a -letter to his former brethren at York, where his home had been before he -entered Charlemagne's service. Here is a sentence: - - "O omnium dilectissimi patres et fratres, memores mei estote; ego - vester ero, sive in vita, sive in morte. Et forte miserebitur mei - Deus, ut cujus infantiam aluistis, ejus senectutem sepeliatis."[235] - -It were invidious to find fault with this Latin, in which the homesick man -expresses his hope of sepulture in his old home. Note also the balance of -the following, written to a sick friend: - - "Gratias agamus Deo Jesu, vulneranti et medenti, flagellanti et - consolanti. Dolor corporis salus est animae, et infirmitas temporalis, - sanitas perpetua. Libenter accipiamus, patienter feramus voluntatem - Salvatoris nostri."[236] - -This too is excellent, in language as in sentiment. So is another, and -last, sentence from our author, in a letter congratulating Charlemagne on -his final subjugation of the Huns, through which the survivors were -brought to a knowledge of the truth: - - "Qualis erit tibi gloria, O beatissime rex, in die aeternae - retributionis, quando hi omnes qui per tuam sollicitudinem ab - adolatriae cultura ad cognoscendum verum Deum conversi sunt, te ante - tribunal Domini nostri Jesu Christi in beata sorte stantem - sequentur!"[237] - -Again, the only trouble is stylelessness. In fine, an absence of quality -characterizes Carolingian prose, of which a last example may be taken from -the Spaniard Theodulphus, Bishop of Orleans, "an accomplished Latin poet," -and an educator yielding in importance to Alcuin alone. The sentence is -from an official admonition to the clergy, warning them to attach more -value to salvation than to lucre: - - "Admonendi sunt qui negotiis ac mercationibus rerum invigilant, ut non - plus terrenam quam viam cupiant sempiternam. Nam qui plus de rebus - terrenis quam de animae suae salute cogitat, valde a via veritatis - aberrat."[238] - -Evidently there was a good knowledge of Latin among these Carolingians, -who laboured for the revival of education and the preservation of the -Classics. The nadir of classical learning falls in the succeeding period -of break-up, confusion, and dawning re-adjustment. In the century or two -following the year 850, the writers were too unskilled in Latin and often -too cumbered by it, to manifest in their writings that unhampered and -distinctive reflex of a personality which we term style. A rare exception -would appear in such a potent scholar as Gerbert, who mastered whatever he -learned, and made it part of his own faculties and temperament. His -letters, consequently, have an individual style, however good or bad we -may be disposed to deem it.[239] - -Accordingly, until after the millennial year Latin prose shows little -beyond a clumsy heaviness resulting from the writer's insufficient mastery -of his medium; and there are many instances of barbarism and corruption of -the tongue without any compensating positive qualities. A dreadful example -is afforded by the _Chronicon_ of Benedictus, a monk of St. Andrews in -Monte Soracte, who lived in the latter part of the tenth century. He -relates, as history, the fable of Charlemagne's journey to the Holy Land; -and his own eyes may have witnessed the atrocious times of John XII., of -whom he speaks as follows: - - "Inter haec non multum tempus Agapitus papa decessit (an. 956). - Octabianus in sede sanctissima susceptus est, et vocatus est Johannes - duodecimi pape. Factus est tam lubricus sui corporis, et tam audaces, - quantum nunc in gentilis populo solebat fieri. Habebat consuetudinem - sepius venandi non quasi apostolicus sed quasi homo ferus. Erat enim - cogitio ejus vanum; diligebat collectio feminarum, odibiles - aecclesiarum, amabilis juvenis ferocitantes. Tanta denique libidine - sui corporis exarsit, quanta nunc (non?) possumus enarrare."[240] - -No need to draw further from this writing, which is characterized -throughout by crass ignorance of grammar and all else pertaining to Latin. -It has no individual qualities; it has no style. Leaving this example of -illiteracy, let us turn to a man of more knowledge, Odo, one of the -greatest of the abbots of Cluny, who died in the year 943. He left lengthy -writings, one of them a bulky epitome of the famous _Moralia_ of Gregory -the Great.[241] More original were his three dull books of _Collationes_, -or moral comments upon the Scriptures. They open with a heavy note which -their author might have drawn from the dark temperament of that great pope -whom he so deeply admired; but the language has a leaden quality which is -not Gregory's, but Odo's. - - "Auctor igitur et judex hominum Deus, licet ab illa felicitate - paradisi genus nostrum juste repulerit, suae tamen bonitatis memor, ne - totus reus homo quod meretur incurrat, hujus peregrinationis molestias - multis beneficiis demulcet." - -And, again, a little further on: - - "Omnis vero ejusdem Scripturae intentio est, ut nos ab hujus vitae - pravitatibus compescat. Nam idcirco terribilibus suis sententiis cor - nostrum, quasi quibusdam stimulis pungit, ut homo terrore pulsatus - expavescat, et divina judicia quae aut voluptate carnis aut terrena - sollicitudine discissus oblivisci facile solet, ad memoriam - reducat."[242] - -One feels the dull heaviness of this. Odo, like many of his -contemporaries, knew enough of Latin grammar, and had read some of the -Classics. But he had not mastered what he knew, and his knowledge was not -converted into power. The tenth century was still painfully learning the -lessons of its Christian and classical heritage. A similar lack of -personal facility may be observed in Ruotger's biography of Bruno, the -worthy brother of the great emperor Otto I., and Archbishop of Cologne. -Bruno died in 965, and Ruotger, who had been his companion, wrote his Life -without delay. It has not the didactic ponderousness of Odo's writing, but -its language is clumsy. The following passage is of interest as showing -Bruno's education and the kind of learned man it made him. - - "Deinde ubi prima grammaticae artis rudimenta percepit, sicut ab ipso - in Dei omnipotentis gloriam hoc saepius ruminante didicimus, - Prudentium poetam tradente magistro legere coepit. Qui sicut est et - fide intentioneque catholicus, et eloquentia veritateque praecipuus, - et metrorum librorumque varietate elegantissimus, tanta mox dulcedine - palato cordis ejus complacuit, ut jam non tantum exteriorum verborum - scientiam, verum intimi medullam sensus, et nectar ut ita dicam - liquidissimum, majori quam dici possit aviditate hauriret. Postea - nullum penitus erat studiorum liberalium genus in omni Graeca vel - Latina eloquentia, quod ingenii sui vivacitatem aufugeret. Nec vero, - ut solet, aut divitiarum affluentia, aut turbarum circumstrepentium - assiduitas, aut ullum aliunde subrepens fastidium ab hoc nobili otio - animum ejus unquam avertit.... Saepe inter Graecorum et Latinorum - doctissimos de philosophiae sublimitate aut de cujuslibet in illa - florentis disciplinae subtilitate disputantes doctus interpres medius - ipse consedit, et disputantibus ad plausum omnium, quo nihil minus - amaverat, satisfecit."[243] - -The gradual improvement in the writing of Latin in the Middle Ages, and -the evolution of distinctive mediaeval styles, did not result from a -larger acquaintance with the Classics, or a better knowledge of grammar -and school rhetoric. The range of classical reading might extend, or from -time to time contract, and Donatus and Priscian were used in the ninth -century as well as in the twelfth. It is true that the study of grammar -became more intelligent in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and its -teachers deferred less absolutely to the old rules and illustrations. They -recognized Christian standards of diction: first of all the Vulgate; next, -early Christian poets like Prudentius; and then gradually the mediaeval -versifiers who wrote and won approval in the twelfth century. Thus grammar -sought to follow current usage.[244] This endeavour culminated at the -close of the twelfth century in the _Doctrinale_ of Alexander of Villa -Dei.[245] Before this, much of the best mediaeval Latin prose and verse -had been written, and the period most devoted to the Classics had come and -was already waning. That period was this same twelfth century. During its -earlier half, Latinity gained doubtless from such improvement in the -courses of the Trivium as took place at Chartres, for example, an -improvement connected with the intellectual growth of the time. But the -increase in the knowledge of Latin was mainly such as a mature man may -realize within himself, if he has kept up his Latin reading, however -little he seem to have added to his knowledge since leaving his Alma -Mater. - -So the development of mediaeval Latin prose (and also verse) advanced with -the maturing of mediaeval civilization. That which was at the same time a -living factor in this growth and a result of it, was the more organic -appropriation of the classical and Christian heritages of culture and -religion. As intellectual faculties strengthened, and men drew power from -the past, they gained facility in moulding their Latin to their purposes. -Writings begin to reflect the personalities of the writers; the diction -ceases to be that of clumsy or clever school compositions, and presents an -evolution of tangible mediaeval styles. Henceforth, although a man be an -eager student of the Classics, like John of Salisbury for example, and try -to imitate their excellences, he will still write mediaeval Latin, and -with a personal style if he be a strong personality. The classical models -no longer trammel, but assist him to be more effectively himself on a -higher plane. - -If mediaeval civilization is to be regarded as that which the peoples of -western Europe attained under the two universal influences of Christianity -and antique culture, then nothing more mediaeval will be seen than -mediaeval Latin. To make it, the antique Latin had been modified and -reinspired and loosed by the Christian energies of the Fathers; and had -then passed on to peoples who never had been, or no longer were, antique. -They barbarized the language down to the rudeness of their faculties. As -they themselves advanced, they brought up Latin with them, as it were, -from the depths of the ninth and tenth centuries, but a Latin which in the -crude natures of these men had been stripped of classical quality; a Latin -barbarous and naked, and ready to be clothed upon with novel qualities -which should make it a new creature. Throughout all this process, while -Latin was sinking and re-emerging, it was worked upon and inspired by the -spirit of the uses to which it was predominantly applied, which were those -of the Roman Catholic Church and of the intimacies of the Christian soul, -pressing to expression in the learned tongue which they were transforming. - -In considering the Latin writings of the Middle Ages one should bear in -mind the differences between Italy and the North with respect to the -ancient language. These were important through the earlier Middle Ages, -when modes of diction sufficiently characteristic to be called styles, -were forming. The men of Latin-sodden Italy might have a fluent Latin when -those of the North still had theirs to learn. Thus there were Italians in -the eleventh century who wrote quite a distinctive Latin prose.[246] -Among them were St. Peter Damiani, and St. Anselm of Aosta, Bec, and -Canterbury. - -The former died full of virtue in the year 1072. We have elsewhere -observed his character and followed his career.[247] He was, to his great -anxiety, a classical scholar, who had earned large sums as a teacher of -rhetoric before natural inclination and fears for his soul drove him to an -ascetic life. He was a master of the Latin which he used. His style is -intense, eloquent, personal to himself as well as suited to his matter, -and reflects his ardent character and keen perceptions. The following is a -rhetorical yet beautiful description of a "last leaf," taken from one of -his compositions in praise of the hermit way of salvation. - - "Videamus in arbore folium sub ipsis pruinis hiemalibus lapsabundum, - et consumpto autumnalis clementiae virore, jamjam pene casurum, ita ut - vix ramusculo, cui dependet, inhaereat, sed apertissima levis ruinae - signa praetendat: inhorrescunt flabra, venti furentes hic inde - concutiunt, brumalis horror crassi aeris rigore densatur: atque, ut - magis stupeas, defluentibus reliquis undique foliis terra sternitur, - et depositis comis arbor suo decore nudatur; cum illud solum nullo - manente permaneat, et velut cohaeredum superstes in fraternae - possessionis jura succedat. Quid autem intelligendum in hujus rei - consideratione relinquitur, nisi quia nec arboris folium potest - cadere, nisi divinum praesumat imperium?"[248] - -Anselm's diction, in spite of its frequent cloister rhetoric, has a simple -and modern word-order. An account has already been given of his life and -of his thoughts, so beautifully sky-blue, unpurpled with the crimson of -human passion, which made the words of Augustine more veritably -incandescent.[249] The great African was the strongest individual -influence upon Anselm's thought and language. But the latter's style has -departed further from the classical sentence, and of itself indicates that -the writer belongs neither to the patristic period nor to the Carolingian -time, busied with its rearrangement of patristic thought. The following is -from his _Proslogion_ upon the existence of God. Through this discourse, -Deity and the Soul are addressed in the second person after the manner of -Augustine's _Confessions_. - - "Excita nunc, anima mea, et erige totum intellectum tuum, et cogita - quantum potes quale et quantum sit illud bonum (_i.e._ Deus). Si enim - singula bona delectabilia sunt, cogita intente quam delectabile sit - illud bonum quod continet jucunditatem omnium bonorum; et non qualem - in rebus creatis sumus experti, sed tanto differentem quanto differt - Creator a creatura. Si enim bona est vita creata, quam bona est vita - creatrix! Si jucunda est salus facta, quam jucunda est salus quae - fecit omnem salutem! Si amabilis est sapientia in cognitione rerum - conditarum, quam amabilis est sapientia quae omnia condidit ex nihilo! - Denique, si multae et magnae delectationes sunt in rebus - delectabilibus, qualis et quanta delectatio est in illo qui fecit ipsa - delectabilia!"[250] - -In a more emotional passage Anselm arouses in his soul the terror of the -Judgment. It is from a "Meditatio": - - "Taedet animam meam vitae meae; vivere erubesco, mori pertimesco. Quid - ergo restat tibi, o peccator, nisi ut in tota vita tua plores totam - vitam tuam, ut ipsa tota se ploret totam? Sed est in hoc quoque anima - mea miserabiliter mirabilis et mirabiliter miserabilis, quia non - tantum dolet quantum se noscit; sed sic secura torpet, velut quid - patiatur ignoret. O anima sterilis, quid agis? quid torpes, anima - peccatrix? Dies judicii venit, juxta est dies Domini magnus, juxta et - velox nimis, _dies irae dies illa_, dies tribulationis et angustiae, - dies calamitatis et miseriae, dies tenebrarum et caliginis, dies - nebulae et turbinis, dies tubae et clangoris. O vox diei Domini amara! - Quid dormitas, anima tepida et digna evomi?"[251] - -Damiani wrote in the middle of the eleventh century, Anselm in the latter -part. The northern lands could as yet show no such characteristic -styles,[252] although the classically educated German, Lambert of -Hersfeld, wrote as correctly and perspicuously as either. His _Annals_ -have won admiration for their clear and correct Latinity, modelled upon -the styles of Sallust and Livy. He died in 1077, the year of Canossa, his -_Annals_ covering the conflict between Henry IV. and Hildebrand up to that -event. The narrative moves with spirit, as one may see by reading his -description of King Henry and his consort struggling through Alpine ice -and snow to reach that castle never to be forgotten, and gain absolution -from the Pope before the ban should have completed Henry's ruin.[253] - -For the North, the best period of mediaeval Latin, prose as well as -verse, opens with the twelfth century. It was indeed the great literary -period of the Middle Ages. For the vernacular literatures flourished as -well as the Latin. Provencal literature began as the eleventh century -closed, and was stifled in the thirteenth by the Albigensian Crusade. So -the twelfth was its great period. Likewise with the Old French literature: -except the _Roland_ which is earlier, the chief _chansons de geste_ belong -to the twelfth century; also the romances of antiquity, to be spoken of -hereafter; also the romances of the Round Table, and a great mass of -_chansons_ and _fabliaux_. The Old German--or rather, _Mittel -Hochdeutsch_--literature touches its height as the century closes and the -next begins, in the works of Heinrich von Veldeke, Gottfried von -Strassburg, Wolfram von Eschenbach, and Walther von der Vogelweide. - -The best Latin writers of the century lived, or sojourned, or were -educated, for the most part in the France north of the Loire. Not that all -of them were natives of that territory; for some were German born, some -saw the light in England, and the birthplace of many is unknown. Yet they -seem to belong to France. Nearly all were ecclesiastics, secular or -regular. Many of them were notables in theology, like Hugo of St. Victor, -Abaelard, Alanus de Insulis (Lille); many were poets as well, like Alanus -and Hildebert and John of Salisbury too; one was a thunderer on the earth, -and a most deft politician, Bernard of Clairvaux. Some again are known -only as poets, sacred or profane, like Adam of St. Victor, and Walter of -Chatillon--but of these hereafter. The best Latin prose writing of this, -or any other, mediaeval period, had its definite purpose, metaphysical, -theological, or pietistic; and the writers have been or will be spoken of -in connection with their specific fields of intellectual achievement or -religious fervour. Here, without discussing the men or their works, some -favourable examples of their writing will be given. - -In the last passage quoted from Anselm, the reader must have felt the -working of cloister rhetoric, and have noticed the antitheses and rhymes, -to which mediaeval Latin lent itself so readily. Yet it is a slight affair -compared with the confounding sonorousness, the flaring pictures, and -terrifying climaxes of St. Bernard when preaching upon the same topic--the -Judgment Day. In one of his famous sermons on Canticles, the saint has -been suggesting to his audience, the monks of Clara Vallis, that although -the _Father_ might ignore faults, not so the _Dominus_ and _Creator_: "et -qui parcit filio, non parcet figmento, non parcet servo nequam." Listen to -the carrying out and pointing of this thought: - - "Pensa cujus sit formidinis et horroris tuum atque omnium contempsisse - factorem, offendisse Dominum majestatis. Majestatis est timeri, Domini - est timeri, et maxime hujus majestatis, hujusque Domini. Nam si reum - regiae majestatis, quamvis humanae, humanis legibus plecti capite - sancitum sit, quis finis contemnentium divinam omnipotentiam erit? - Tangit montes, et fumigant; et tam tremendam majestatem audet irritare - vilis pulvisculus, uno levi flatu mox dispergendus, et minime - recolligendus? Ille, ille timendus est, qui postquam acciderit corpus, - potestatem habet mittere et in gehennam. Paveo gehennam, paveo judicis - vultum, ipsis quoque tremendum angelicis potestatibus. Contremisco ab - ira potentis, a facie furoris ejus, a fragore ruentis mundi, a - conflagratione elementorum, a tempestate valida, a voce archangeli, et - a verbo aspero. [Feel the climax of this sentence, which tells the end - of the sinner.] Contremisco a dentibus bestiae infernalis, a ventre - inferi, a rugientibus praeparatis ad escam. Horreo vermem rodentem, et - ignem torrentem, fumum, et vaporem, et sulphur, et spiritum - procellarum; horreo tenebras exteriores. Quis dabit capiti meo aquam, - et oculis meis fontem lacrymarum ut praeveniam fletibus fletum, et - stridorem dentium, et manuum pedumque dura vincula, et pondus - catenarum prementium, stringentium, urentium, nec consumentium? Heu - me, mater mea! utquid me genuisti filium doloris, filium amaritudinis, - indignationis et plorationis aeternae? Cur exceptus genibus, cur - lactatus uberibus, natus in combustionem, et cibus ignis?"[254] - -As one recovers from the sound and power of this high-wrought passage, he -notices how readily it might be turned into the form of a Latin hymn; and -also how very modern is its sequence of words. Bernard's Latin could -whisper intimate love, as well as thunder terror. He says, preaching on -the _medicina_, the healing power, of Jesu's name: - - "Hoc tibi electuarium habes, o anima mea, reconditum in vasculo - vocabuli hujus quod est Jesus, salutiferum, certe, quodque nulli - unquam pesti tuae inveniatur inefficax."[255] - -With the music of this prose one may compare the sweet personal plaint of -the following: - - "Felices quos abscondit in tabernaculo suo in umbra alarum suarum - sperantes, donec transeat iniquitas. Caeterum ego infelix, pauper et - nudus, homo natus ad laborem, implumis avicula pene omni tempore - nidulo exsulans, vento exposita et turbini, turbatus sum et motus sum - sicut ebrius, et omnis conscientia mea devorata est."[256] - -Extracts can give no idea of Bernard's literary powers, any more than a -small volume could tell the story of that life which, so to speak, was -_magna pars_ of all contemporary history. But since he was one of the best -of Latin letter-writers, one should not omit an example of his varied -epistolary style, which can be known in its compass only from a large -reading of his letters. The following is a short letter, written to win -back to the cloister a delicately nurtured youth whose parents had lured -him out into the world. - - "Doleo super te, fili mi Gaufride, doleo super te. Et merito. Quis - enim non doleat florem juventutis tuae, quem laetantibus angelis Deo - illibatum obtuleras in odorem suavitatis, nunc a daemonibus - conculcari, vitiorum spurcitiis, et saeculi sordibus inquinari? - Quomodo qui vocatus eras a Deo, revocantem diabolum sequeris, et quem - Christus trahere coeperat post se, repente pedem ab ipso introitu - gloriae retraxisti? In te experior nunc veritatem sermonis Domini, - quem dixit: Inimici hominis, domestici ejus (Matt. x. 36). Amici tui - et proximi tui adversum te appropinquaverunt, et steterunt. - Revocaverunt te in fauces leonis, et in portis mortis iterum - collocaverunt te. Collocaverunt te in obscuris, sicut mortuos saeculi: - et jam parum est ut descendas in ventrem inferi; jam te deglutire - festinat, ac rugientibus praeparatis ad escam tradere devorandum. - - "Revertere, quaeso, revertere, priusquam te absorbeat profundum, et - urgeat super te puteus os suum; priusquam demergaris, unde ulterius - non emergas; priusquam ligatis manibus et pedibus projiciaris in - tenebras exteriores, ubi est fletus et stridor dentium; priusquam - detrudaris in locum tenebrosum, et opertum mortis caligine. Erubescis - forte redire, quia ad horam cessisti. Erubesce fugam, et non post - fugam reverti in proelium, et rursum pugnare. Necdum finis pugnae, - necdum ab invicem dimicantes acies discesserunt: adhuc victoria prae - manibus est. Si vis, nolumus vincere sine te, nec tuam tibi invidemus - gloriae portionem. Laeti occuremus tibi, laetis te recipiemus - amplexibus, dicemusque: Epulari et gaudere oportet, quia hic filius - noster mortuus fuerat, et revixit; perierat, et inventus est" (Luc. - xv. 32).[257] - -The argument of this letter is, from the standpoint of Bernard's time, as -resistless as the style. Did it win back the little monk? Many wonderful -examples of loving expression could be drawn from Bernard's letters;[258] -but instead an instance may be given of his none too subtle way of -uttering his hate: "Arnaldus de Brixia, cujus conversatio mel et doctrina -venenum, cui caput columbae, cauda scorpionis est, quem Brixia evomuit, -Roma exhorruit, Francia repulit, Germania abominatur, Italia non vult -recipere, fertur esse vobiscum."[259] And then he proceeds to warn his -correspondent of the danger of intercourse with this arch-enemy of the -Church. - -Considering that Latin was a tongue which youths learned at school rather -than at their mothers' knees, such writing as Bernard's is a triumphant -recasting of an ancient language. One notices in him, as generally with -mediaeval religious writers, the influence of the Vulgate, which was -mainly in the language of St. Jerome--of Jerome when not writing as a -literary virtuoso, but as a scholar occupied with rendering the meaning, -and willing to accept such linguistic innovations as served his -purpose.[260] But beyond this influence, one sees how masterful is -Bernard's diction, quite freed from observance of classical principles, -quite of the writer and his time, adapting itself with ease and power to -the topic and character of the composition, and always expressive of the -personality of the mighty saint. - -Hildebert of Le Mans was a few years older than St. Bernard. As an example -of his prose a letter may be cited, of which the translation has been -given. It was written in 1128, when he was Archbishop of Tours, in protest -against the encroachments of the royal power of the French king, Louis the -Fat, upon the rights of the Archiepiscopacy of Tours in the matter of -ecclesiastical appointments within that diocese: - - "In adversis nonnullum solatium est, tempora sperare laetiora. Diutius - spes haec mihi blandita est, et velut agricolam messis in herba, sic - animum meum prosperitatis expectatio confortavit. Caeterum jam nihil - est quo serenitatem nimbosi temporis exspectem, nihil est quo navis, - in cujus puppi sedeo, crebris agitata turbinibus, portum quietis - attingat. - - "Silent amici, silent sacerdotes Jesu Christi. Denique silent et illi - quorum suffragio credidi regem mecum in gratiam rediturum. Credidi - quidem, sed super dolorem vulnerum meorum rex, illis silentibus, - adjecit. Eorum tamen erat gravamini ecclesiae canonicis obviare - institutis. Eorum erat, si res postulasset, opponere murum pro domo - Israel. Verum apud serenissimum regem opus est exhortatione potius - quam increpatione, consilio quam praecepto, doctrina quam virga. His - ille conveniendus fuit, his reverenter instruendus, ne sagittas suas - in sene compleret sacerdote, ne sanctiones canonicas evacuaret, ne - persequeretur cineres Ecclesiae jam sepultae, cineres in quibus ego - panem doloris manduco, in quibus bibo calicem luctus, de quibus eripi - et evadere, de morte ad vitam transire est. - - "Inter has tamen angustias, nunquam de me sic ira triumphavit, ut - aliquem super Christo Domini clamorem deponere vellem, seu pacem - ipsius in manu forti et brachio Ecclesiae adipisci. Suspecta est pax - ad quam, non amore sed vi, sublimes veniunt potestates. Ea facile - rescindetur, et fiunt aliquando novissima pejora prioribus. Alia est - via qua compendiosius ad eam Christo perducente pertingam. Jactabo - cogitatum meum in Domino, et ipse dabit mihi petitionem cordis mei. - Recordatus est Dominus Joseph, cujus pincerna Pharaonis oblitus, dum - prospera succederent, interveniendi pro eo curam abjecit.... Fortassis - recordabitur et mei, atque in desiderato littore navem sistet - fluctuantem. Ipse enim est qui respicit in orationem humilium, et non - spernit preces eorum. Ipse est in cujus manu corda regum cerea sunt. - Si invenero gratiam in oculis ejus, gratiam regis vel facile - consequar, vel utiliter amittam. Siquidem offendere hominem proper - Deum lucrari est gratiam Dei."[261] - -John of Salisbury (1110-1180), much younger than Hildebert and a little -younger than Bernard, seems to have been the best scholar of his time. -With the Classics he is as one in the company of friends; he cites them as -readily as Scripture; their _sententiae_ have become part of his views of -life. John was an eager humanist, who followed his studies to whatever -town and to the feet of whatsoever teacher they might lead him. So he -listened to Abaelard and many others. His writing is always lively and -often forcible, especially when vituperating the set who despised classic -reading. His most vivacious work, the _Metalogicus_, was directed against -their unnamed prophet, whom he dubs "Cornificus."[262] Its opening passage -is of interest as John's exordium, and because a somewhat consciously -intending stylist like our John is likely to exhibit his utmost virtuosity -in the opening sentences of an important work: - - "Adversus insigne donum naturae parentis et gratiae, calumniam veterem - et majorum nostrorum judicio condemnatam excitat improbus litigator, - et conquirens undique imperitiae suae solatia, sibi proficere sperat - ad gloriam, si multos similes sui, id est si eos viderit imperitos; - habet enim hoc proprium arrogantiae tumor, ut se commetiatur aliis, - bona sua, si qua sunt, efferens, deprimens aliena; defectumque - proximi, suum putet esse profectum. Omnibus autem recte sapientibus - indubium est quod natura, clementissima parens omnium, et - dispositissima moderatrix, inter caetera quae genuit animantia, - hominem privilegio rationis extulit, et usu eloquii insignivit: id - agens sedulitate officiosa, et lege dispositissima, ut homo qui - gravedine faeculentioris naturae et molis corporeae tarditate - premebatur et trahebatur ad ima, his quasi subvectus alis, ad alta - ascendat, et ad obtinendum verae beatitudinis bravium, omnia alia - felici compendio antecebat. Dum itaque naturam fecundat gratia, ratio - rebus perspiciendis et examinandis invigilat; naturae sinus excutit, - metitur fructus et efficaciam singulorum: et innatus omnibus amor - boni, naturali urgente se appetitu, hoc, aut solum, aut prae caeteris - sequitur, quod percipiendae beatitudini maxime videtur esse - accommodum."[263] - -One perceives the effect of classical studies; yet the passage is good -twelfth-century Latin, quite different from the compositions of the -Carolingian epoch, those, for example, from the pen of Alcuin, who had -studied the Classics like John, but unlike him had no personal style. One -gains similar impressions from the diction of the _Polycraticus_, a -lengthy, discursive work in which John surprises us with his classical -equipment. Although containing many quoted passages, it is not made of -extracts strung together; but reflects the sentiments or tells the -opinions of ancient philosophers in the writer's own way. The following -shows John's knowledge of early Greek philosophers, and is a fair example -of his ordinary style: - - "Alterum vero philosophorum genus est, quod Ionicum dicitur et a - Graecis ulterioribus traxit originem. Horum princeps fuit Thales - Milesius, unus illorum septem, qui dicti sunt sapientes. Iste cum - rerum naturam scrutatus, inter caeteros emicuisset, maxime admirabilis - exstitit, quod astrologiae numeris comprehensis, solis et lunae - defectus praedicebat. Huic successit Anaximander ejus auditor, qui - Anaximenem discipulum reliquit et successorem. Diogenes quoque ejusdem - auditor exstitit, et Anaxagoras, qui omnium rerum quas videmus, - effectorem divinum animum docuit. Ei successit auditor ejus Archelaues, - cujus discipulus Socrates fuisse perhibetur, magister Platonis, qui, - teste Apuleio, prius Aristoteles dictus est, sed deinde a latitudine - pectoris Plato, et in tantam eminentiam philosophiae, et vigore - ingenii, et studii exercitio, et omnium morum venustate, eloquii - quoque suavitate et copia subvectus est, ut quasi in throno sapientiae - residens, praecepta quadam auctoritate visus est, tam antecessoribus - quam successoribus philosophis, imperare. Et primus quidem Socrates - universam philosophiam ad corrigendos componendosque mores flexisse - memoratur, cum ante illum omnes physicis, id est rebus naturalibus - perscrutandis, maximam operam dederint."[264] - -These extracts from the writings of saints and scholars may be -supplemented by two extracts from compositions of another class. The -mediaeval chronicle has not a good reputation. Its credulity and -uncritical spirit varied with the time and man. Little can be said in -favour of its general form, which usually is stupidly chronological, or -annalistic. The example of classical historical composition was lost on -mediaeval annalists. Yet their work is not always dull; and, by the -twelfth century, their diction had become as mediaeval as that of the -theologian rhetoricians, although it rarely crystallizes to personal style -by reason of the insignificance of the writers. A well-known work of this -kind is the _Gesta Dei per Francos_, by Guibert of Nogent, who wrote his -account of the First Crusade a few years after its turmoil had passed by. -The following passage tells of proceedings upon the conclusion of Urban's -great crusading oration at the Council of Clermont in 1099: - - "Peroraverat vir excellentissimus, et omnes qui se ituros voverant, - beati Petri potestate absolvit, eadem, ipsa apostolica auctoritate - firmavit, et signum satis conveniens hujus tam honestae professionis - instituit, et veluti cingulum militiae, vel potius militaturis Deo - passionis Dominicae stigma tradens, crucis figuram, ex cujuslibet - materiae panni, tunicis, byrris et palliis iturorum, assui mandavit. - Quod si quis, post hujus signi acceptionem, aut post evidentis voti - pollicitationem ab ista benevolentia, prava poenitudine, aut aliquorum - suorum affectione resileret, ut exlex perpetuo haberetur omnino - praecepit, nisi resipisceret; idemque quod omiserat foede repeteret. - Praeterea omnes illos atroci damnavit anathemate, qui eorum uxoribus, - filiis, aut possessionibus, qui hoc Dei iter aggrederentur, per - integrum triennii tempus, molestiam auderent inferre. Ad extremum, - cuidam viro omnimodis laudibus efferendo, Podiensis urbis episcopo, - cujus nomen doleo quia neque usquam reperi, nec audivi, curam super - eadem expeditione regenda contulit, et vices suas ipsi, super - Christiani populi quocunque venirent institutione, commisit. Unde et - manus ei, more apostolorum, data pariter benedictione, imposuit. Quod - ille quam sagaciter sit exsecutus, docet mirabilis operis tanti - exitus."[265] - -This Frenchman Guibert is almost vivacious. A certain younger contemporary -of his, of English birth, could construct his narrative quite as well. -Ordericus Vitalis (d. 1142) is said to have been born at Wroxeter, though -he spent most of his life as monk of St. Evroult in Normandy. There he -wrote his _Historia Ecclesiastica_ of Normandy and England. His account of -the loss of the _White Ship_ in 1120 tells the story: - - "Thomas, filius Stephani, regem adiit, eique marcum auri offerens, - ait: 'Stephanus, Airardi filius, genitor meus fuit, et ipse in omni - vita sua patri tuo in mari servivit. Nam illum, in sua puppe vectum, - in Angliam conduxit, quando contra Haraldum pugnaturus, in Angliam - perrexit. Hujusmodi autem officio usque ad mortem famulando ei - placuit, et ab eo multis honoratus exeniis, inter contribules suos - magnifice floruit. Hoc feudum, domine rex, a te requiro, et vas quod - Candida-Navis appellatur, merito ad regalem famulatum optime - instructum habeo.' Cui rex ait: 'Gratum habeo quod petis. Mihi quidem - aptam navim elegi, quam non mutabo; sed filios meos, Guillelmum et - Richardum, quos sicut me diligo, cum multa regni mei nobilitate, nunc - tibi commendo.' - - "His auditis, nautae gavisi sunt, filioque regis adulantes, vinum ab - eo ad bibendum postulaverunt. At ille tres vini modios ipsis dari - praecepit. Quibus acceptis, biberunt, sociisque abundanter - propinaverunt, nimiumque potantes inebriati sunt. Jussu regis multi - barones cum filiis suis puppim ascenderunt, et fere trecenti, ut - opinor, in infausta nave fuerunt. Duo siquidem monachi Tironis, et - Stephanus comes cum duobus militibus, Guillelmus quoque de Rolmara, et - Rabellus Camerarius, Eduardus de Salesburia, et alii plures inde - exierunt, quia nimiam multitudinem lascivae et pompaticae juventutis - inesse conspicati sunt. Periti enim remiges quinquaginta ibi erant, et - feroces epibatae, qui jam in navi sedes nacti turgebant, et suimet - prae ebrietate immemores, vix aliquem reverenter agnoscebant. Heu! - quamplures illorum mentes pia devotione erga Deum habebant vacuas - - 'Qui maris immodicas moderatur et aeris iras.' - - Unde sacerdotes, qui ad benedicendos illos illuc accesserant, aliosque - ministros qui aquam benedictam deferebant, cum dedecore et cachinnis - subsannantes abigerunt; sed paulo post derisionis suae ultionem - receperunt. - - "Soli homines, cum thesauro regis et vasis merum ferentibus, Thomae - carinam implebant, ipsumque ut regiam classem, quae jam aequora - sulcabat, summopere prosequeretur, commonebant. Ipse vero, quia - ebrietate desipiebat, in virtute sua, satellitumque suorum confidebat, - et audacter, quia omnes qui jam praecesserant praeiret, spondebat. - Tandem navigandi signum dedit. Porro schippae remos haud segniter - arripuerunt, et alia laeti, quia quid eis ante oculos penderet - nesciebant, armamenta coaptaverunt, navemque cum impetu magno per - pontum currere fecerunt. Cumque remiges ebrii totis navigarent - conatibus, et infelix gubernio male intenderet cursui dirigendo per - pelagus, ingenti saxo quod quotidie fluctu recedente detegitur et - rursus accessu maris cooperitur, sinistrum latus Candidae-Navis - vehementer illisum est, confractisque duabus tabulis, ex insperato, - navis, proh dolor! subversa est. Omnes igitur in tanto discrimine - simul exclamaverunt; sed aqua mox implente ora, pariter perierunt. - Duo soli virgae qua velum pendebat manus injecerunt, et magna noctis - parte pendentes, auxilium quodlibet praestolati sunt. Unus erat - Rothomagensis carnifex, nomine Beroldus, et alter generosus puer, - nomine Goisfredus, Gisleberti de Aquila filius. - - "Tunc luna in signo Tauri nona decima fuit, et fere ix horis radiis - suis mundum illustravit, et navigantibus mare lucidum reddidit. Thomas - nauclerus post primam submersionem vires resumpsit, suique memor, - super undas caput extulit, et videns capita eorum qui ligno utcunque - inhaerebant, interrogavit: 'Filius regis quid devenit?' Cumque - naufragi respondissent illum cum omnibus collegis suis deperisse: - 'Miserum,' inquit, 'est amodo meum vivere.' Hoc dicto, male desperans, - maluit illic occumbere, quam furore irati regis pro pernicie prolis - oppetere, seu longas in vinculis poenas luere."[266] - -Our examples thus far belong to the twelfth century. As touching its -successor, it will be interesting to observe the qualities of two opposite -kinds of writing, the one springing from the intellectual activities, and -the other from the religious awakening, of the time. In the thirteenth -century, scientific and scholastic writing was of representative -importance, and deeply affected the development of Latin prose. Very -different in style were the Latin stories and _vitae_ of the blessed -Francis of Assisi and other saints, composed in Italy. - -Roger Bacon, of whom there will be much to say, composed most of his -extant works about the year 1267.[267] His language is often rough and -involved, from his impetuosity and eagerness to utter what was in him. But -it is always vigorous. He took pains to say just what he meant, and what -was worth saying; and frequently rewrote his sentences. His writings show -little rhetoric; yet they are stamped with a Baconian style, which has a -cumulative force. The word-order is modern with scarcely a trace of the -antique. Perhaps we may say that he wrote Latin like an Englishman of -vehement temper and great intellect. He is powerful in continuous -exposition; yet instances of his general, and very striking statements, -will illustrate his diction at its best. In the following sentence he -recognizes the progressiveness of knowledge, a rare idea in the Middle -Ages: - - "Nam semper posteriores addiderunt ad opera priorum, et multa - correxerunt, et plura mutaverunt, sicut maxime per Aristotelem patet, - qui omnes sententias praecedentium discussit."[268] - -Again, he animadverts upon the duty of thirteenth-century Christians to -supply the defects of the old philosophers: - - "Quapropter antiquorum defectus deberemus nos posteriores supplere, - quia introivimus in labores eorum, per quos, nisi simus asini, - possumus ad meliora excitari; quia miserrimum est semper uti inventis - et nunquam inveniendis."[269] - -Speaking of language, he says: - - "Impossibile est quod proprietas unius linguae servetur in alia."[270] - ("The idioms of one language cannot be preserved in a translation.") - And again: "Omnes philosophi fuerunt post patriarchas et prophetas ... - et legerunt libros prophetarum et patriarcharum qui sunt in sacro - textu."[271] ("The philosophers of Greece came after the prophets of - the Old Testament and read their works contained in the sacred text.") - -In the first of these sentences Bacon shows his linguistic insight; in the -second he reflects an uncritical view entertained since the time of the -Church Fathers; in both, he writes with an order of words requiring no -change in an English translation. - -In his time, Bacon had but a sorry fame, and his works no influence. The -writings of his younger contemporary Thomas Aquinas exerted greater -influence than those of any man after Augustine. They represent the -culmination of scholasticism. He was Italian born, and his language, -however difficult the matter, is lucidity itself. It is never rhetorical; -but measured, temperate, and balanced; properly proceeding from the mind -which weighed every proposition in the scales of universal consideration. -Sometimes it gains a certain fervour from the clarity and import of the -statement which it so lucidly conveys. In article eighth, of the first -Questio, of Pars Prima of the _Summa theologiae_, Thomas thus decides that -Theology is a rational (_argumentativa_) science: - - "Respondeo dicendum quod, sicut aliae scientiae non argumentantur ad - sua principia probanda, sed ex principiis argumentantur ad ostendendum - alia in ipsis scientiis; ita haec doctrina non argumentatur ad sua - principia probanda, quae sunt articuli fidei; sed ex eis procedit ad - aliquid aliud ostendendum; sicut Apostolus I ad Cor. xv., ex - resurrectione Christi argumentatur ad resurrectionem communem - probandam. - - "Sed tamen considerandum est in scientiis philosophicis, quod - inferiores scientiae nec probant sua principia, nec contra negantem - principia disputant, sed hoc relinquunt superiori scientiae: suprema - vero inter eas, scilicet metaphysica, disputat contra negantem sua - principia, si adversarius aliquid concedit: si autem nihil concedit, - non potest cum eo disputare, potest tamen solvere rationes ipsius. - Unde sacra scriptura (_i.e._ Theology), cum non habeat superiorem, - disputat cum negante sua principia: argumentando quidem, si - adversarius aliquid concedat eorum quae per divinam revelationem - habentur; sicut per auctoritates sacrae doctrinae disputamus contra - hereticos, et per unum articulum contra negantes alium. Si vero - adversarius nihil credat eorum quae divinitus revelantur, non remanet - amplius via ad probandum articulos fidei per rationes, sed ad - solvendum rationes, si quas inducit, contra fidem. Cum enim fides - infallibili veritati innitatur, impossibile autem sit de vero - demonstrari contrarium, manifestum est probationes quae contra fidem - inducuntur, non esse demonstrationes, sed solubilia argumenta."[272] - -Of a different intellectual temperament was John of Fidanza, known as St. -Bonaventura.[273] He also was born and passed his youth in Italy. This -sainted General of the Franciscan Order was a few years older than the -great Dominican, who was his friend. Both doctors died in the year 1274. -Bonaventura's powers of constructive reasoning were excellent. His diction -is clear and beautiful, and eloquent with a spiritual fervour whenever the -matter is such as to evoke it. His account of how he came to write his -famous little _Itinerarium mentis in Deum_ is full of temperament. - - "Cum igitur exemplo beatissimi patris Francisci hanc pacem anhelo - spiritu quaererem, ego peccator, qui loco ipsius patris beatissimi - post eius transitum septimus in generali fratrum ministerio per omnia - indignus succedo; contigit, ut nutu divino circa Beati ipsius - transitum, anno trigesimo tertio ad montem Alvernae tanquam ad locum - quietum amore quaerendi pacem spiritus declinarem, ibique existens, - dum mente tractarem aliquas mentales ascensiones in Deum, inter alia - occurrit illud miraculum, quod in praedicto loco contigit ipsi beato - Francisco, de visione scilicet Seraph alati ad instar Crucifixi. In - cuius consideratione statim visum est mihi, quod visio illa - praetenderet ipsius patris suspensionem in contemplando et viam, per - quam pervenitur ad eam."[274] - -And Bonaventura at the end of his _Itinerarium_ speaks of the perfect -passing of Francis into God through the very mystic climax of -contemplation, concluding thus: - - "Si autem quaeras, quomodo haec fiant, interroga gratiam, non - doctrinam; desiderium, non intellectum; gemitum orationis, non studium - lectionis; sponsum, non magistrum; Deum, non hominem; caliginem, non - claritatem; non lucem, sed ignem totaliter inflammantem et in Deum - excessivis unctionibus et ardentissimis affectionibus - transferentem."[275] - -Bonaventura's fervent diction will serve to carry us over from the more -unmitigated intellectuality of Bacon and Thomas to the simpler matter of -those personal and pious narratives from which may be drawn concluding -illustrations of mediaeval Latin prose. Some of the authors will show the -skill which comes from training; others are quite innocent of grammar, and -their Latin has made a happy surrender to the genius of their vernacular -speech, which was the _lingua vulgaris_ of northern Italy. - -One of the earliest biographers of St. Francis of Assisi was Thomas of -Celano, a skilled Latinist, who was enraptured with the loveliness of -Francis's life. His diction is limpid and rhythmical. A well-known passage -in his _Vita prima_ (for he wrote two Lives) tells of Francis's joyous -assurance of the great work which God would accomplish through the simple -band who formed the beginnings of the Order. This assurance crystallized -in a vision of multitudes hurrying to join. Francis speaks to the -brethren: - - "Confortamini, charissimi, et gaudete in Domino, nec, quia pauci - videmini, efficiamini tristes. Ne vos deterreat mea, vel vestra - simplicitas, quoniam sicut mihi a Domino in veritate ostensum est, in - maximam multitudinem faciet vos crescere Deus, et usque ad fines orbis - multipliciter dilatabit. Vidi multitudinem magnam hominum ad nos - venientium, et in habitu sanctae conversationis beataeque religionis - regula nobiscum volentium conversari; et ecce adhuc sonitus eorum est - in auribus meis, euntium, et redeuntium secundum obedientiae sanctae - mandatum: vidique vias ipsorum multitudine plenas ex omni fere natione - in his partibus convenire. Veniunt Francigenae, festinant Hispani, - Teuthonici, et Anglici currunt, et aliarum diversarum linguarum - accelerat maxima multitudo. - - "Quod cum audissent fratres, repleti sunt gaudio Salvatoris sive - propter gratiam, quam dominus Deus contulerat sancto suo, sive quia - proximorum lucrum sitiebant ardenter, quos desiderabant ut salvi - essent, in idipsum quotidie augmentari."[276] - -We feel the flow and rhythm, and note the agreeable balancing of clauses. -Francis died in 1226. The _Vita prima_ by Celano was approved by Gregory -IX. in 1229. Already other matter touching the saint was gathering in -anecdote and narrative. Much of it was brought together in the so-called -_Speculum perfectionis_, which has been confidently but very questionably -ascribed to Francis's personal disciple, Brother Leo. Brother Leo, or -whoever may have been the narrator or compiler, was no scholar; his Latin -is naively incorrect, and has also the simplicity of Gospel narrative. -Indeed this Latin is as effectively "vulgarized" as the Greek of Matthew's -Gospel. An interesting passage tells with what loving wisdom Francis -interpreted a text of Scripture: - - "Manente ipso apud Senas venit ad eum quidam doctor sacrae theologiae - de ordine Praedicatorum, vir utique humilis et spiritualis valde. Quum - ipse cum beato Francisco de verbis Domini simul aliquamdiu - contulissent interrogavit eum magister de illo verbo Ezechielis: _Si - non annuntiaveris impio impietatem suam animam ejus de manu tua - requiram_. Dixit enim: 'Multos, bone pater, ego cognosco in peccato - mortali quibus non annuntio impietatem eorum, numquid de manu mea - ipsorum animae requirentur?' - - "Cui beatus Franciscus humiliter dixit se esse idiotam et ideo magis - expedire sibi doceri ab eo quam super scripturae sententiam - respondere. Tunc ille humilis magister adjecit: 'Frater, licet ab - aliquibus sapientibus hujus verbi expositionem audiverim, tamen - libenter super hoc vestrum perciperem intellectum.' Dixit ergo beatus - Franciscus: 'Si verbum debeat generaliter intelligi, ego taliter - accipio ipsum quod servus Dei sic debet vita et sanctitate in seipso - ardere vel fulgere ut luce exempli et lingua sanctae conversationis - omnes impios reprehendat. Sic, inquam, splendor ejus et odor famae - ipsius annuntiabit omnibus iniquitates eorum.' - - "Plurimum itaque doctor ille aedificatus recedens dixit sociis beati - Francisci: 'Fratres mei, theologia hujus viri puritate et - contemplatione subnixa est aquila volans, nostra vero scientia ventre - graditur super terram.'"[277] - -Another passage has Francis breaking out in song from the joy of his love -of Christ: - - "Ebrius amore et compassione Christi beatus Franciscus quandoque talia - faciebat, nam dulcissima melodia spiritus intra se ipsum ebulliens - frequenter exterius gallice dabat sonum et vena divini susurrii quam - auris ejus suscipiebat furtive gallicum erumpebat in jubilum. - - "Lignum quandoque colligebat de terra ipsumque sinistro brachio - superponens aliud lignum per modum arcus in manu dextera trahebat - super illud, quasi super viellam vel aliud instrumentum atque gestus - ad hoc idoneos faciens gallice cantabat de Domino Jesu Christo. - Terminabatur denique tota haec tripudiatio in lacrymas et in - compassionem passionis Christi hic jubilus solvebatur. - - "In his trahebat continue suspiria et ingeminatis gemitibus eorum quae - tenebat in manibus oblitus suspendebatur ad caelum."[278] - -This Latin is as childlike as the Old Italian of the _Fioretti_ of St. -Francis; it has a like word-order, and one might almost add, a like -vocabulary. The simple, ignorant writer seems as if held by a direct and -personal inspiration from the familiar life of the sweet saint. His -language reflects that inspiration, and mirrors his own childlike -character. Hence he has a style, direct, effective, moving to tears and -joy, like his impression of the blessed Francis. - -A not dissimilar kind of childlike Latin could attain to a remarkable -symmetry and balance. The _Legenda aurea_ is before us, written by the -Dominican Jacobus a Voragine, by race a Genoese, and living toward the -close of the thirteenth century. This book was the most popular compend of -saints' lives in use in the later Middle Ages. Its stories are told with -fascinating _naivete_. We cite the opening sentences from its chapter on -the Annunciation, just to show the harmony and balance of its periods. The -passage is exceptional and almost formal in these qualities: - - "Annunciatio dominica dicitur, quia in tali die ab angelo adventus - filii Dei in carnem fuit annuntiatus, congruum enim fuit, ut - incarnationem praecederet angelica annuntiatio, triplici ratione. - Primo ratione ordinis connotandi, ut scilicet ordo reparationis - responderet ordini praevaricationis. Unde sicut dyabolus tentavit - mulierem, ut eam pertraheret ad dubitationem et per dubitationem ad - consensum et per consensum ad lapsum, sic angelus nuntiavit virgini, - ut nuntiando excitaret ad fidem et per fidem ad consensum et per - consensum ad concipiendum Dei filium. Secundo ratione ministerii - angelici, quia enim angelus est Dei minister et servus et beata virgo - electa erat, ut esset Dei mater, et congruum est ministrum dominae - famulari, conveniens fuit, ut beatae virgini annuntiatio per angelum - fieret. Tertio ratione lapsus angelici reparandi. Quia enim incarnatio - non tantum faciebat ad reparationem humani lapsus, sed etiam ad - reparationem ruinae angelicae, ideo angeli non debuerunt excludi. Unde - sicut sexus mulieris non excluditur a cognitione mysterii - incarnationis et resurrectionis, sic etiam nec angelicus nuntius. Imo - Deus utrumque angelo mediante nuntiat mulieri, scilicet incarnationem - virgini Mariae et resurrectionem Magdelenae."[279] - -These extracts bring us far into the thirteenth century. Two hundred years -later, mediaeval Latin prose, if one may say so, sang its swan song in -that little book which is a last, sweet, and composite echo of all -mellifluous mediaeval piety. Yet perhaps this _De imitatione Christi_ of -Thomas a Kempis can scarcely be classed as prose, so full is it of -assonances and rhythms fit for chanting. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - -EVOLUTION OF MEDIAEVAL LATIN VERSE - - I. METRICAL VERSE. - - II. SUBSTITUTION OF ACCENT FOR QUANTITY. - - III. SEQUENCE-HYMN AND STUDENT-SONG. - - IV. PASSAGE OF THEMES INTO THE VERNACULAR. - - -In mediaeval Latin poetry the endeavour to preserve a classical style and -the irresistible tendency to evolve new forms are more palpably -distinguishable than in the prose. For there is a visible parting of the -ways between the retention of the antique metres and their fruitful -abandonment in verses built of accentual rhyme. Moreover, this formal -divergence corresponds to a substantial difference, inasmuch as there was -usually a larger survival of antique feeling and allusion in the mediaeval -metrical attempts than in the rhyming poems. - -As in the prose, so in the poetry, the lines of development may be -followed from the Carolingian time. But a difference will be found between -Italy and the North; for in Italy the course was quicker, but a less -organic evolution resulted in verse less excellent and less distinctly -mediaeval. By the end of the eleventh century Latin poetry in Italy, -rhyming or metrical, seems to have drawn itself along as far as it was -destined to progress; but in the North a richer growth culminates a -century later. Indeed the most originative line of evolution of mediaeval -Latin verse would seem to have been confined to the North, in the main if -not exclusively. - -The following pages offer no history of mediaeval Latin poetry, even as -the previous chapter made no attempt to sketch the history of the prose. -Their object is to point out the general lines along which the -verse-forms were developed, or were perhaps retarded. Three may be -distinguished. The first is marked by the retention of quantity and the -endeavour to preserve the ancient measures. In the second, accent and -rhyme gradually take the place of metre within the old verse-forms. The -third is that of the Sequence, wherein the accentual rhyming hymn springs -from the chanted prose, which had superseded the chanting of the final _a_ -of the Alleluia.[280] - - -I - -The lover of classical Greek and Latin poetry knows the beautiful fitness -of the ancient measures for the thought and feeling which they enframed. -If his eyes chance to fall on some twelfth-century Latin hymn, he will be -struck by its different quality. He will quickly perceive that classic -forms would have been unsuited to the Christian and romantic sentiment of -the mediaeval period,[281] and will realize that some vehicle besides -metrical verse would have been needed for this thoroughly declassicized -feeling, even had metrical quantity remained a vital element of language, -instead of passing away some centuries before. Metre was but resuscitation -and convention in the time of Charlemagne. Yet it kept its sway with -scholars, and could not lack votaries so long as classical poetry made -part of the _Ars grammatica_ or was read for delectation. Metrical -composition did not cease throughout the Middle Ages. But it was not the -true mediaeval style, and became obviously academic as accentual verse was -perfected and made fit to carry spiritual emotion. Nevertheless the -simpler metres were cultivated successfully by the best scholars of the -twelfth century. - -Most of the Latin poetry of the Carolingian period was metrical, if we are -to judge from the mass that remains. Reminiscence of the antique enveloped -educated men, with whom the mediaeval spirit had not reached distinctness -of thought and feeling. So the poetry resembled the contemporary sculpture -and painting, in which the antique was still unsuperseded by any new -style. Following the antique metres, using antique phrase and commonplace, -often copying antique sentiment, this poetry was as dull as might be -expected from men who were amused by calling each other Homer, Virgil, -Horace, or David. Usually the poets were ecclesiastics, and interested in -theology;[282] but many of the pieces are conventionally profane in topic, -and as humanistic as the Latin poetry of Petrarch.[283] Moreover, just as -Petrarch's Latin poetry was still-born, while his Italian sonnets live, so -the Carolingian poetry, when it forgets itself and falls away from metre -to accentual verse, gains some degree of life. At this early period the -Romance tongues were not a fit poetic vehicle, and consequently living -thoughts, which with Dante and Petrarch found voice in Italian, in the -ninth century began to stammer in Latin verses that were freed from the -dead rules of quantity, and were already vibrant with a vital feeling for -accent and rhyme.[284] - -Through the tenth century metrical composition became rougher, yet -sometimes drew a certain force from its rudeness. A good example is the -famous _Waltarius_, or _Waltharilied_, of Ekkehart of St. Gall, composed -in the year 960 as a school exercise.[285] The theme was a German story -found in vernacular poetry. Ekkehart's hexameters have a strong Teuton -flavour, and doubtless some of the vigour of his paraphrase was due to the -German original. - -The metrical poems of the eleventh century have been spoken of already, -especially the more interesting ones written in Italy.[286] Most of the -Latin poetry emanating from that classic land was metrical, or so -intended. Frequently it tells the story of wars, or gives the _Gesta_ of -notable lives, making a kind of versified biography. One feels as if verse -was employed as a refuge from the dead annalistic form. This poetry was a -semi-barbarizing of the antique, without new formal or substantial -elements. Italy, one may say, never became essentially and creatively -mediaeval: the pressure of antique survival seems to have barred original -development; Italians took little part in the great mediaeval military -religious movements, the Crusades; no strikingly new architecture arose -with them; their first vernacular poetry was an imitation or a borrowing -from Provence and France; and by far the greater part of their Latin -poetry presents an uncreative barbarizing of the antique metres. - -These remarks find illustration in the principal Latin poems composed in -Italy in the twelfth century. Among them one observes differences in -skill, knowledge, and tendency. Some of the writers made use of leonine -hexameters, others avoided the rhyme. But they were all akin in lack of -excellence and originality both in composition and verse-form. There was -the monk Donizo of Canossa, who wrote the _Vita_ of the great Countess -Matilda;[287] there was William of Apulia, Norman in spirit if not in -blood, who wrote of the Norman conquests in Apulia and Sicily;[288] also -the anonymous and barbarous _De bello et excidio urbis Comensis_, in -which is told the destruction of Como by Milan between 1118 and 1127;[289] -then the metrically jingling Pisan chronicle narrating the conquest of the -island of Majorca, and beginning (like the _Aeneid_!) with - - "Arma, rates, populum vindictam coelitus octam - Scribimus, ac duros terrae pelagique labores."[290] - -We also note Peter of Ebulo, with his narrative in laudation of the -emperor Henry VI., written about 1194; Henry of Septimella and his elegies -upon the checkered fortunes of divers great men;[291] and lastly the more -famous Godfrey of Viterbo, of probable German blood, and notary or scribe -to three successive emperors, with his cantafable _Pantheon_ or _Memoria -saecularum_.[292] Godfrey's poetry is rhymed after a manner of his own. - -In the North, or more specifically speaking in the land of France north of -the Loire, the twelfth century brought better metrical poetry than in -Italy. Yet it had something of the deadness of imitation, since the _vis -vivida_ of song had passed over into rhyming verse. Still from the -academic point of view, metre was the proper vehicle of poetry; as one -sees, for instance, in the _Ars versificatoria_ of Matthew of -Vendome,[293] written toward the close of the twelfth century. "Versus est -metrica descriptio," says he, and then elaborates his, for the most part -borrowed, definition: "Verse is metrical description proceeding concisely -and line by line through the comely marriage of words to flowers of -thought, and containing nothing trivial or irrelevant." A neat conception -this of poetry; and the same writer denounces leonine rhyming as unseemly, -but praises the favourite metre of the Middle Ages, the elegiac; for he -regards the hexameter and pentameter as together forming the perfect -verse. It was in this metre that Hildebert wrote his almost classic elegy -over the ruins of Rome. A few lines have been quoted from it;[294] but the -whole poem, which is not long, is of interest as one of the very best -examples of a mediaeval Latin elegy: - - "Par tibi, Roma, nihil, cum sis prope tota ruina; - Quam magni fueris integra fracta doces. - Longa tuos fastus aetas destruxit, et arces - Caesaris et superum templa palude jacent. - Ille labor, labor ille ruit quem dirus Araxes - Et stantem tremuit et cecidisse dolet; - Quem gladii regum, quem provida cura senatus, - Quem superi rerum constituere caput; - Quem magis optavit cum crimine solus habere - Caesar, quam socius et pius esse socer, - Qui, crescens studiis tribus, hostes, crimen, amicos - Vi domuit, secuit legibus, emit ope; - In quem, dum fieret, vigilavit cura priorum: - Juvit opus pietas hospitis, unda, locus. - Materiem, fabros, expensas axis uterque - Misit, se muris obtulit ipse locus. - Expendere duces thesauros, fata favorem, - Artifices studium, totus et orbis opes. - Urbs cecidit de qua si quicquam dicere dignum - Moliar, hoc potero dicere: Roma fuit. - Non tamen annorum series, non flamma, nec ensis - Ad plenum potuit hoc abolere decus. - Cura hominum potuit tantam componere Romam - Quantam non potuit solvere cura deum. - Confer opes marmorque novum superumque favorem, - Artificum vigilent in nova facta manus, - Non tamen aut fieri par stanti machina muro, - Aut restaurari sola ruina potest. - Tantum restat adhuc, tantum ruit, ut neque pars stans - Aequari possit, diruta nec refici. - Hic superum formas superi mirantur et ipsi, - Et cupiunt fictis vultibus esse pares. - Non potuit natura deos hoc ore creare - Quo miranda deum signa creavit homo. - Vultus adest his numinibus, potiusque coluntur - Artificum studio quam deitate sua. - Urbs felix, si vel dominis urbs illa careret, - Vel dominis esset turpe carere fide."[295] - -The elegiac metre was used by Abaelard in his didactic poem to his son -Astralabius,[296] and by John of Salisbury in his _Entheticus_. The -hexameter also was a favourite measure, used, for instance, by Alanus of -Lille in the _Anticlaudianus_, perhaps the noblest of mediaeval narrative -or allegorical poems in Latin.[297] Another excellent composition in -hexameter was the _Alexandreis_ of Walter, born, like Alanus, apparently -at Lille, but commonly called of Chatillon. As poets and as classical -scholars, these two men were worthy contemporaries. Walter's poem follows, -or rather enlarges upon the _Life of Alexander_ by Quintus Curtius.[298] -He is said to have written it on the challenge of Matthew of Vendome, him -of the _Ars versificatoria_. The _Ligurinus_ of a certain Cistercian -Gunther is still another good example of a long narrative poem in -hexameters. It sets forth the career of Frederick Barbarossa, and was -written shortly after the opening of the thirteenth century. Its author, -like Walter and Alanus, shows himself widely read in the Classics.[299] - -The sapphic was a third not infrequently attempted metre, of which the _De -planctu naturae_ of Alanus contains examples. This work was composed in -the form of the _De consolatione philosophiae_ of Boethius, where lyrics -alternate with prose. The general topic was Nature's complaint over man's -disobedience to her laws. The author apostrophizes her in the following -sapphics: - - "O Dei proles, genitrixque rerum, - Vinculum mundi, stabilisque nexus, - Gemma terrenis, speculum caducis, - Lucifer orbis. - Pax, amor, virtus, regimen, potestas, - Ordo, lex, finis, via, dux, origo, - Vita, lux, splendor, species, figura - Regula mundi. - Quae tuis mundum moderas habenis, - Cuncta concordi stabilita nodo - Nectis et pacis glutino maritas - Coelica terris. - Quae noys ([Greek: nous]) plures recolens ideas - Singulas rerum species monetans, - Res togas formis, chlamidemque formae - Pollice formas. - Cui favet coelum, famulatur aer, - Quam colit Tellus, veneratur unda, - Cui velut mundi dominae tributum - Singula solvunt. - Quae diem nocti vicibus catenans - Cereum solis tribuis diei, - Lucido lunae speculo soporans - Nubila noctis. - Quae polum stellis variis inauras, - Aetheris nostri solium serenans - Siderum gemmis, varioque coelum - Milite complens. - Quae novis coeli faciem figuris - Protheans mutas aridumque vulgus - Aeris nostri regione donans, - Legeque stringis. - Cujus ad nutum juvenescit orbis, - Silva crispatur folii capillo, - Et tua florum tunicata veste, - Terra superbit. - Quae minas ponti sepelis, et auges, - Syncopans cursum pelagi furori - Ne soli tractum tumulare possit - Aequoris aestus."[300] - -Practically all of our examples have been taken from works composed in the -twelfth century, and in the land comprised under the name of France. The -pre-excellence of this period will likewise appear in accentual rhyming -Latin poetry, which was more spontaneous and living than its loftily -descended relative. - - -II - -The academic vogue of metre in the early Middle Ages did not prevent the -growth of more natural poetry. The Irish had their Gaelic poems; people -of Teutonic speech had their rough verse based on alliteration and the -count of the strong syllables. The Romance tongues emerging from the -common Latin were as yet poetically untried. But in the proper Latin, -which had become as unquantitative and accentual as any of its vulgar -forms, there was a tonic poetry that was no longer unequipped with rhyme. - -Three rhythmic elements made up this natural mode of Latin versification: -the succession of accented and unaccented syllables; the number of -syllables in a line; and that regularly recurring sameness of sound which -is called rhyme. The source of the first of these seems obvious. Accent -having driven quantity from speech, came to supersede it in verse, with -the accented syllable taking the place of the long syllable and the -unaccented the place of the short. In the Carolingian period accentual -verse followed the old metrical forms, with this exception: the metrical -principle that one long is equivalent to two shorts was not adopted. -Consequently the number of syllables in the successive lines of an -accentual strophe would remain the same, where in the metrical antecedent -they might have varied. This is also sufficient to account for the second -element, the observance of regularity in the number of syllables. For this -regularity seems to follow upon the acceptance of the principle that in -rhythmic verse an accented syllable is not equal to two unaccented ones. -The query might perhaps be made why this Latin accentual verse did not -take up the principle of regularity in the number of strong syllables in a -line, like Old High German poetry for example, where the number of -unaccented syllables, within reasonable limits, is indifferent. A ready -answer is that these Latin verses were made by people of Latin speech who -had been acquainted with metrical forms of poetry, in which the number of -syllables might vary, but was never indifferent; for the metrical rule was -rigid that one long was equivalent to two short; and to no more and no -less. Hence the short syllables were as fixed in number as the long.[301] - -The origin of the third element, rhyme, is in dispute. In some instances -it may have passed into Greek and Latin verses from Syrian hymns.[302] But -on the other hand it had long been an occasional element in Greek and -Latin rhetorical prose. Probably rhyme in Latin accentual verse had no -specific origin. It gradually became the sharpening, defining element of -such verse. Accentual Latin lent itself so naturally to rhyme, that had -not rhyme become a fixed part of this verse, there indeed would have been -a fact to explain. - -These, then, were the elements: accent, number of syllables, and rhyme. -Most interesting is the development of verse-forms. Rhythmic Latin poetry -came through the substitution of accent for quantity, and probably had -many prototypes in the old jingles of Roman soldiers and provincials, -which so far as known were accentual, rather than metrical. Christian -accentual poetry retained those simple forms of iambic and trochaic verse -which most readily submitted to the change from metre to accent, or -perhaps one should say, had for centuries offered themselves as natural -forms of accentual verse. Apparently the change from metre to accent -within the old forms gradually took place between the sixth and the tenth -centuries. During this period there was slight advance in the evolution of -new verses; nor was the period creative in other respects, as we have -seen. But thereafter, as the mediaeval centuries advanced from the basis -of a mastered patristic and antique heritage, and began to create, there -followed an admirable evolution of verse-forms: in some instances -apparently issuing from the old metrico-accentual forms, and in others -developing independently by virtue of the faculty of song meeting the need -of singing. - -This factor wrought with power--the human need and cognate faculty of -song, a need and faculty stimulated in the Middle Ages by religious -sentiment and emotion. In the fusing of melody and words into an -utterance of song--at last into a strophe--music worked potently, shaping -the composition of the lines, moulding them to rhythm, insisting upon -sonorousness in the words, promoting their assonance and at last -compelling them to rhyme so as to meet the stress, or mark the ending, of -the musical periods. Thus the exigencies of melody helped to evoke the -finished verse, while the words reciprocating through their vocal -capabilities and through the inspiration of their meaning, aided the -evolution of the melodies. In fine, words and melody, each quickened by -the other, and each moulding the other to itself, attained a perfected -strophic unison; and mediaeval musician-poets achieved at last the -finished verses of hymns or Sequences and student-songs. - -There were two distinct lines of evolution of accentual Latin verse in the -Middle Ages; and although the faculty of song was a moving energy in both, -it worked in one of them more visibly than in the other. Along the one -line accentual verse developed pursuant to the ancient forms, displacing -quantity with accent, and evolving rhyme. The other line of evolution had -no connection with the antique. It began with phrases of sonorous prose, -replacing inarticulate chant. These, under the influence of music, through -the creative power of song, were by degrees transformed to verse. The -evolution of the Sequence-hymn will be the chief illustration. With the -finished accentual Latin poetry of the twelfth century it may become -impossible to tell which line of rhythmic evolution holds the antecedent -of a given poem. In truth, this final and perfected verse may often have a -double ancestry, descending from the rhythms which had superseded metre, -and being also the child of mediaeval melody. Yet there is no difficulty -in tracing by examples the two lines of evolution. - -To illustrate the strain of verse which took its origin in the -displacement of metre by accent and rhyme, we must look back as far as -Fortunatus. He was born about the year 530 in northern Italy, but he -passed his eventful life among Franks and Thuringians. A scholar and also -a poet, he had a fair mastery of metre; yet some of his poems evince the -spirit of the coming mediaeval time both in sentiment and form. He wrote -two famous hymns, one of them in the popular trochaic tetrameter, the -other in the equally simple iambic dimeter. The first, a hymn to the -Cross, begins with the never-to-be-forgotten - - "Pange, lingua, gloriosi proelium certaminis"; - -and has such lines as - - "Crux fidelis, inter omnes arbor una nobilis - - * * * * * - - Dulce lignum, dulce clavo dulce pondus sustinens!" - -In these the mediaeval feeling for the Cross shows itself, and while the -metre is correct, it is so facile that one may read or sing the lines -accentually. In the other hymn, also to the Cross, assonance and rhyme -foretell the coming transformation of metre to accentual verse. Here are -the first two stanzas: - - "Vexilla regis prodeunt, - Fulget crucis mysterium, - Quo carne carnis conditor - Suspensus est patibulo. - - Confixa clavis viscera - Tendens manus, vestigia - Redemtionis gratia - Hic immolata est hostia." - -Passing to the Carolingian epoch, some lines from a poem celebrating the -victory of Charlemagne's son Pippin over the Avars in 796, will illustrate -the popular trochaic tetrameter which had become accentual, and already -tended to rhyme: - - "Multa mala iam fecerunt ab antico tempore, - Fana dei destruxerunt atque monasteria, - Vasa aurea sacrata, argentea, fictilia."[303] - -Next we turn to a piece by the persecuted and interesting Gottschalk, -written in the latter part of the ninth century. A young lad has asked for -a poem. But how can he sing, the exiled and imprisoned monk who might -rather weep as the Jews by the waters of Babylon?[304] yet he will sing a -hymn to the Trinity, and bewail his piteous lot before the highest -pitying Godhead. The verses have a lyric unity of mood, and are touching -with their sad refrain. Their rhyme, if not quite pure, is abundant and -catching, and their nearest metrical affinity would be a trochaic dimeter. - - "1. Ut quid iubes, pusiole, - quare mandas, filiole, - carmen dulce me cantare, - cum sim longe exul valde - intra mare? - o cur iubes canere? - - 2. Magis mihi, miserule, - fiere libet, puerule, - plus plorare quam cantare - carmen tale, iubes quale, - amor care, - o cur iubes canere? - - 3. Mallem scias, pusillule, - ut velles tu, fratercule, - pio corde condolere - mihi atque prona mente - conlugere. - o cur iubes canere? - - 4. Scis, divine tyruncule, - scis, superne clientule, - hic diu me exulare, - multa die sive nocte - tolerare. - o cur iubes canere? - - 5. Scis captive plebicule - Israheli cognomine - praeceptum in Babilone - decantare extra longe - fines Iude. - o cur iubes canere? - - 6. Non potuerunt utique, - nec debuerunt itaque - carmen dulce coram gente - aliene nostri terre - resonare. - o cur iubes canere? - - 7. Sed quia vis omnimode, - consodalis egregie, - canam patri filioque - simul atque procedente - ex utroque. - hoc cano ultronee. - - 8. Benedictus es, domine, - pater, nate, paraclite, - deus trine, deus une, - deus summe, deus pie, - deus iuste. - hoc cano spontanee. - - 9. Exul ego diuscule - hoc in mare sum, domine: - annos nempe duos fere - nosti fore, sed iam iamque - miserere. - hoc rogo humillime. - - 10. Interim cum pusione - psallam ore, psallam mente, - psallam voce (psallam corde), - psallam die, psallam nocte - carmen dulce - tibi, rex piissime."[305] - -Gottschalk (and for this it is hard to love him) was one of the initiators -of the leonine hexameter, in which a syllable in the middle of the line -rhymes with the last syllable. - - "Septeno Augustas decimo praeeunte Kalendas" - -is the opening hexameter in his Epistle to his friend Ratramnus.[306] To -what horrid jingle such verses could attain may be seen from some leonine -hexameter-pentameters of two or three hundred years later, on the Fall of -Troy, beginning: - - "Viribus, arte, minis, Danaum clara Troja ruinis, - Annis bis quinis fit rogus atque cinis."[307] - -Hector and Troy, and the dire wiles of the Greeks never left the mediaeval -imagination. A poem of the early tenth century, which bade the watchers on -Modena's walls be vigilant, draws its inspiration from that unfading -memory, and for us illustrates what iambics might become when accent had -replaced quantity. The lines throughout end in a final rhyming _a_. - - "O tu, qui servas armis ista moenia, - Noli dormire, moneo, sed vigila. - Dum Hector vigil extitit in Troia, - Non eam cepit fraudulenta Graecia."[308] - -And from a scarcely later time, for it also is of the tenth century, rise -those verses to Roma, that old "Roma aurea et eterna," and forever "caput -mundi," sung by pilgrim bands as their eyes caught the first gleam of -tower, church, and ruin: - - "O Roma nobilis, orbis et domina, - Cunctarum urbium excellentissima, - Roseo martyrum sanguine rubea, - Albis et virginum liliis candida: - Salutem dicimus tibi per omnia, - Te benedicimus: salve per secula."[309] - -This verse, which still lifts the heart of whosoever hears or reads it, -may close our examples of mediaeval verses descended from metrical forms. -It will be noticed that all of them are from the early mediaeval -centuries; a circumstance which may be taken as a suggestion of the fact -that by far the greater part of the earlier accentual Latin poetry was -composed in forms in which accent simply had displaced the antique -quantity. - - -III - -We turn to that other genesis of mediaeval Latin verse, arising not out of -antique forms, but rather from the mediaeval need and faculty of song. In -the chief instance selected for illustration, this line of evolution took -its inception in the exigencies and inspiration of the Alleluia chant or -jubilation. During the celebration of the Mass, as the Gradual ended in -its last Alleluia, the choir continued chanting the final syllable of that -word in cadences of musical exultings. The melody or cadence to which this -final _a_ of the Alleluia was chanted, was called the _sequentia_. The -words which came to be substituted for its cadenced reiteration were -called the _prosa_. By the twelfth century the two terms seem to have been -used interchangeably. Thus arose the prose Sequence, so plastic in its -capability of being moulded by melody to verse. Its songful qualities lay -in the sonorousness of the words and in their syllabic correspondence with -the notes of the melody to which they were sung.[310] - -In the year 860, Norsemen sacked the cloister of Jumieges in Normandy, and -a fleeing brother carried his precious Antiphonary far away to the safe -retreat of St. Gall. There a young monk named Notker, poring over its -contents, perceived that words had been written in the place of the -repetitions of the final _a_ of the Alleluia. Taking the cue, he set to -work to compose more fitting words to correspond with the notes to which -this final _a_ was sung. So these lines of euphonious and fitting words -appear to have had their beginning in Notker's scanning of that fugitive -Antiphonary, and his devising labour. Their primary purpose was a musical -one; for they were a device--mnemotechnic, if one will--to facilitate the -chanting of cadences previously vocalized with difficulty through the -singing of one simple vowel sound. Notker showed his work to his master, -Iso, who rejoiced at what his gifted pupil had accomplished, and spurred -him on by pointing out that in his composition one syllable was still -sometimes repeated or drawn out through several successive notes. One -syllable to each note was the principle which Notker now set himself to -realize; and he succeeded. - -He composed some fifty Sequences. In his work, as well as in that of -others after him, the device of words began to modify and develop the -melodies themselves. Sometimes Notker adapted his verbal compositions to -those cadences or melodies to which the Alleluia had long been sung; -sometimes he composed both melody and words; or, again, he took a current -melody, sacred or secular, to which the Alleluia never had been sung, and -composed words for it, to be chanted as a Sequence. In these borrowed -melodies, as well as in those composed by Notker, the musical periods were -more developed than in the Alleluia cadences. Thus the musical growth of -the Sequences was promoted by the use of sonorous words, while the -improved melodies in turn drew the words on to a more perfect rhythmic -ordering. - -Notker died in 912. His Sequences were prose, yet with a certain -parallelism in their construction; and, even with Notker in his later -years, the words began to take on assonances, chiefly in the vowel sound -of _a_. Thereafter the melodies, seizing upon the words, as it were, by -the principle of their syllabic correspondence to the notation, moulded -them to rhythm of movement and regularity of line; while conversely with -the better ordering of the words for singing, the melodies in turn made -gain and progress, and then again reacted on the words, until after two -centuries there emerged the finished verses of an Adam of St. Victor. - -Thus these Sequences have become verse before our eyes, and we realize -that it is the very central current of the evolution of mediaeval Latin -poetry that we have been following. How free and how spontaneous was this -evolution of the Sequence. It was the child of the Christian Middle Ages, -seeing the light in the closing years of the ninth century, but requiring -a long period of growth before it reached the glory of its climacteric. It -was born of musical chanting, and it grew as song, never unsung or -conceived of as severable from its melody. Only as it attained its -perfected strophic forms, it necessarily made use of trochaic and other -rhythms which long before had changed from quantity to accent and so had -passed on into the verse-making habitudes of the Middle Ages.[311] If -there be any Latin composition in virtue of origin and growth absolutely -un-antique, it is the mediaeval Sequence, which in its final forms is so -glorious a representative of the mediaeval Hymn. And we shall also see -that much popular Latin poetry, "Carmina Burana" and student-songs, were -composed in verses and often sung to tunes taken--or parodied--from the -Sequence-hymns of the Liturgy. - -There were many ways of chanting Sequences. The musical phrases of the -melodies usually were repeated once, except at the beginning and the -close; and the Sequence would be rendered by a double choir singing -antiphonally. Ordinarily the words responded to the repetition of the -musical phrases with a parallelism of their own. The lines (after the -first) varied in length by pairs, the second and third lines having the -same number of syllables, the fourth and fifth likewise equal to each -other, but differing in length from the second and third; and so on -through the Sequence, until the last line, which commonly stood alone and -differed in length from the preceding pairs. The Sequence called "Nostra -tuba" is a good example. Probably it was composed by Notker, and in his -later years; for it is filled with assonances, and exhibits a regular -parallelism of structure. - - "Nostra tuba - Regatur fortissime Dei dextra et preces audiat - Aura placatissima et serena; ita enim nostra - Laus erit accepta, voce si quod canimus, canat pariter et pura - conscientia. - Et, ut haec possimus, omnes divina nobis semper flagitemus adesse - auxilia. - - * * * * * - - O bone Rex, pie, juste, misericors, qui es via et janua, - Portas regni, quaesumus, nobis reseres, dimittasque facinora - Ut laudemus nomen nunc tuum atque per cuncta saecula."[312] - -Here, after the opening, the first pair has seventeen syllables, and the -next pair twenty-six. The last pair quoted has twenty; and the final line -of seventeen syllables has no fellow. A further rhythmical advance seems -reached by the following Sequence from the abbey of St. Martial at -Limoges. It may have been written in the eleventh century. It is given -here with the first and second line of the couplets opposite to each -other, as strophe and antistrophe; and the lines themselves are divided to -show the assonances (or rhymes) which appear to have corresponded with -pauses in the melody: - - "(1) Canat omnis turba - - (2a) Fonte renata (2b) Laude jucunda - Spiritusque gratia et mente perspicua - - (3a) Jam restituta (3b) Sicque jactura - pars est decima coelestis illa - fuerat quae culpa completur in laude - perdita. divina. - - (4a) Ecce praeclara (4b) Enitet ampla - dies dominica per orbis spatia, - - (5a) Exsultat in qua (5b) Quia destructa - plebs omnis redempta, mors est perpetua."[313] - -A Sequence of the eleventh century will afford a final illustration of -approach to a regular strophic structure, and of the use of the final -one-syllable rhyme in _a_, throughout the Sequence: - - 1 - - "Alleluia, - Turma, proclama leta; - Laude canora, - Facta prome divina, - Jam instituta - Superna disciplina, - - 2 - - Christi sacra - Per magnalia - Es quia de morte liberata - Ut destructa - Inferni claustra - Januaque celi patefacta! - - 3 - - Jam nunc omnia - Celestia - Terrestria - Virtute gubernat eterna. - In quibus sua - Judicia - Semper equa - Dat auctoritate paterna." - - * * * *[314] - -As the eleventh century closed and the great twelfth century dawned, the -forces of mediaeval growth quickened to a mightier vitality, and -distinctively mediaeval creations appeared. Our eyes, of course, are fixed -upon the northern lands, where the Sequence grew from prose to verse, and -where derivative or analogous forms of popular poetry developed also. Up -to this time, throughout mediaeval life and thought, progress had been -somewhat uncrowned with palpable achievement. Yet the first brilliant -creations of a master-workman are the fruit of his apprentice years, -during which his progress has been as real as when his works begin to make -it visible. So it was no sudden birth of power, but rather faculties -ripening through apprentice centuries, which illumine the period opening -about the year 1100. This period would carry no human teaching if its -accomplishment in institutions, in philosophy, in art and poetry, had been -a heaven-blown accident, and not the fruit of antecedent discipline. - -The poetic advance represented by the Sequences of Adam of St. Victor may -rouse our admiration for the poet's genius, but should not blind our eyes -to the continuity of development leading to it. Adam is the final artist -and his work a veritable creation; yet his antecedents made part of his -creative faculty. The elements of his verses and the general idea and form -of the sequence were given him;--all honour to the man's holy genius which -made these into poems. The elements referred to consisted in accentual -measures and in the two-syllabled Latin rhyme which appears to have been -finally achieved by the close of the eleventh century.[315] In using them -Adam was no borrower, but an artist who perforce worked in the medium of -his art. Trochaic and iambic rhythms then constituted the chief measures -for accentual verse, as they had for centuries, and do still. For, -although accentual rhythms admit dactyls and anapaests, these have not -proved generally serviceable. Likewise the inevitable progress of Latin -verse had developed assonances into rhymes; and indeed into rhymes of two -syllables, for Latin words lend themselves as readily to rhymes of two -syllables as English words to rhymes of one. - -There existed also the idea and form of the Sequence, consisting of pairs -of lines which had reached assonance and some degree of rhythm, and varied -in length, pair by pair, following the music of the melodies to which they -were sung. For the Sequence-melody did not keep to the same recurring tune -throughout, but varied from couplet to couplet. In consequence, a Sequence -by Adam of St. Victor may contain a variety of verse-forms. Moreover, a -number of the Sequences of which he may have been the author show -survivals of the old rhythmical irregularities, and of assonance as yet -unsuperseded by pure rhyme. - -Before giving examples of Adam's poems, a tribute should be paid to his -great forerunner in the art of Latin verse. Adam doubtless was familiar -with the hymns[316] of the most brilliant intellectual luminary of the -departing generation, one Peter Abaelard, whom he may have seen in the -flesh. Those once famous love-songs, written for Heloise, perished (so far -as we know) with the love they sang. Another fate--and perhaps Abaelard -wished it so--was in store for the many hymns which he wrote for his -sisters in Christ, the abbess and her nuns. They still exist,[317] and -display a richness of verse-forms scarcely equalled even by the Sequences -of Adam. In the development of Latin verse, Abaelard is Adam's immediate -predecessor; his verses being, as it were, just one stage inferior to -Adam's in sonorousness of line, in certainty of rhythm, and in purity of -rhyme. - -The "prose" Sequences were not the direct antecedents of Abaelard's hymns. -Yet both sprang from the freely devising spirit of melody and song; and -therefore those hymns are of this free-born lineage more truly than they -are descendants of antique forms. To be sure, every possible accentual -rhythm, built as it must be of trochees, iambics, anapaests, or dactyls, -has unavoidably some antique quantitative antecedent; because the antique -measures exhausted the possibilities of syllabic combination. Yet -antecedence is not source, and most of Abaelard's verses by their form and -spirit proclaim their genesis in the creative exigencies of song as loudly -as they disavow any antique parentage. - -For example, there may be some far echo of metrical asclepiads in the -following accentual and rhyme-harnessed twelve-syllable verse: - - "Advenit veritas, umbra praeteriit, - Post noctem claritas diei subiit, - Ad ortum rutilant superni luminis - Legis mysteria plena caliginis." - -But the echo if audible is faint, and surely no antique whisper is heard -in - - "Est in Rama - Vox audita - Rachel flentis - Super natos - Interfectos - Ejulantis." - -Nor in - - "Golias prostratus est, - Resurrexit Dominus, - Ense jugulatus est - Hostis proprio; - Cum suis submersus est - Ille Pharao." - -The variety of Abaelard's verse seems endless. One or two further examples -may or may not suggest any antecedents in those older forms of accentual -verse which followed the former metres: - - "Ornarunt terram germina, - Nunc caelum luminaria. - Sole, luna, stellis depingitur, - Quorum multus usus cognoscitur." - -In this verse the first two lines are accentual iambic dimeters; while the -last two begin each with two trochees, and close apparently with two -dactyls. The last form of line is kept throughout in the following: - - "Gaude virgo virginum gloria, - Matrum decus et mater, jubila, - Quae commune sanctorum omnium - Meruisti conferre gaudium." - -Next come some simple five-syllable lines, with a catching rhyme: - - "Lignum amaras - Indulcat aquas - Eis immissum. - Omnes agones - Sunt sanctis dulces - Per crucifixum." - -In the following lines of ten syllables a dactyl appears to follow a -trochee twice in each line: - - "Tuba Domini, Paule, maxima, - De caelestibus dans tonitrua, - Hostes dissipans, cives aggrega. - - Doctor gentium es praecipuus, - Vas in poculum factus omnibus, - Sapientiae plenum haustibus." - -These examples of Abaelard's rhythms may close with the following -curiously complicated verse: - - "Tu quae carnem edomet - Abstinentiam, - Tu quae carnem decoret - Continentiam, - Tu velle quod bonum est his ingeris - Ac ipsum perficere tu tribuis. - Instrumenta - Sunt his tua - Per quos mira peragis, - Et humana - Moves corda - Signis et prodigiis." - -In general, one observes in these verses that Abaelard does not use a pure -two-syllable rhyme. The rhyme is always pure in the last syllable, and in -the penult may either exist as a pure rhyme or simply as an assonance, or -not at all.[318] - -Probably Abaelard wrote his hymns in 1130, perhaps the very year when Adam -as a youth entered the convent of St. Victor, lying across the Seine from -Paris. The latter appears to have lived until 1192. Many Sequences have -been improperly ascribed to him, and among the doubtful ones are a number -having affinities with the older types. These may be anterior to Adam; for -the greater part of his unquestionable Sequences are perfected throughout -in their versification. Yet, on the other hand, one would expect some -progression in works composed in the course of a long life devoted to -such composition--a life covering a period when progressive changes were -taking place in the world of thought beyond St. Victor's walls. We take -three examples of these Sequences. The first contains occasional assonance -in place of rhyme, and uses many rhymes of one syllable. It appears to be -an older composition improperly ascribed to Adam. The second is -unquestionably his, in his most perfect form; the third may or may not be -Adam's; but is given for its own sake as a lovely lyric.[319] - -The first example, probably written not much later than the year 1100, was -designed for the Mass at the dedication of a church. The variety in the -succession of couplets and strophes indicates a corresponding variation in -the melody. - - 1 - - "Clara chorus dulce pangat voce nunc alleluia, - Ad aeterni regis laudem qui gubernat omnia! - - 2 - - Cui nos universalis sociat Ecclesia, - Scala nitens et pertingens ad poli fastigia; - - 3 - - Ad honorem cujus laeta psallamus melodia, - Persolventes hodiernas laudes illi debitas. - - 4 - - O felix aula, quam vicissim - Confrequentant agmina coelica, - Divinis verbis alternatim - Jungentia mellea cantica! - - 5 - - Domus haec, de qua vetusta sonuit historia - Et moderna protestatur Christum fari pagina: - 'Quoniam elegi eam thronum sine macula, - 'Requies haec erit mea per aeterna saecula. - - 6 - - Turris supra montem sita, - Indissolubili bitumine fundata - Vallo perenni munita, - Atque aurea columna - Miris ac variis lapidibus distincta, - Stylo subtili polita! - - 7 - - Ave, mater praeelecta, - Ad quam Christus fatur ita - Prophetae facundia: - 'Sponsa mea speciosa, - 'Inter filias formosa, - 'Supra solem splendida! - - 8 - - 'Caput tuum ut Carmelus - 'Et ipsius comae tinctae regis uti purpura; - 'Oculi ut columbarum, - 'Genae tuae punicorum ceu malorum fragmina! - - 9 - - 'Mel et lac sub lingua tua, favus stillans labia; - 'Collum tuum ut columna, turris et eburnea!' - - 10 - - Ergo nobis Sponsae tuae - Famulantibus, o Christe, pietate solita - Clemens adesse dignare - Et in tuo salutari nos ubique visita. - - 11 - - Ipsaque mediatrice, summe rex, perpetue, - Voce pura - Flagitamus, da gaudere Paradisi gloria. - Alleluia!"[320] - -The second example is Adam's famous Sequence for St. Stephen's Day, which -falls on the day after Christmas. It is throughout sustained and perfect -in versification, and in substance a splendid hymn of praise. - - 1 - - "Heri mundus exultavit - Et exultans celebravit - Christi natalitia; - Heri chorus angelorum - Prosecutus est coelorum - Regem cum laetitia. - - 2 - - Protomartyr et levita, - Clarus fide, clarus vita, - Clarus et miraculis, - Sub hac luce triumphavit - Et triumphans insultavit - Stephanus incredulis. - - 3 - - Fremunt ergo tanquam ferae - Quia victi defecere - Lucis adversarii: - Falsos testes statuunt, - Et linguas exacuunt - Viperarum filii. - - 4 - - Agonista, nulli cede, - Certa certus de mercede, - Persevera, Stephane; - Insta falsis testibus, - Confuta sermonibus - Synagogam Satanae. - - 5 - - Testis tuus est in coelis, - Testis verax et fidelis, - Testis innocentiae. - Nomen habes coronati: - Te tormenta decet pati - Pro corona gloriae. - - 6 - - Pro corona non marcenti - Perfer brevis vim tormenti; - Te manet victoria. - Tibi fiet mors natalis, - Tibi poena terminalis - Dat vitae primordia. - - 7 - - Plenus Sancto Spiritu, - Penetrat intuitu - Stephanus coelestia. - Videns Dei gloriam, - Crescit ad victoriam, - Suspirat ad praemia. - - 8 - - En a dextris Dei stantem, - Jesum pro te dimicantem, - Stephane, considera: - Tibi coelos reserari, - Tibi Christum revelari, - Clama voce libera. - - 9 - - Se commendat Salvatori, - Pro quo dulce ducit mori - Sub ipsis lapidibus. - Saulus servat omnium - Vestes lapidantium, - Lapidans in omnibus. - - 10 - - Ne peccatum statuatur - His a quibus lapidatur, - Genu ponit, et precatur, - Condolens insaniae. - In Christo sic obdormivit, - Qui Christo sic obedivit, - Et cum Christo semper vivit, - Martyrum primitiae." - - * * * *[321] - - -The last example, in honour of St. Nicholas's Day, is a lovely poem by -whomsoever written. Its verses are extremely diversified. It begins with -somewhat formal chanting of the saint's virtues, in dignified couplets. -Suddenly it changes to a joyful lyric, and sings of a certain sweet -sea-miracle wrought by Nicholas. Then it spiritualizes the conception of -his saintly aid to meet the call of the sin-tossed soul. It closes in -stately manner in harmony with its liturgical function. - - 1 - - "Congaudentes exultemus vocali concordia - Ad beati Nicolai festiva solemnia! - - 2 - - Qui in cunis adhuc jacens servando jejunia - A papilla coepit summa promereri gaudia. - - 3 - - Adolescens amplexatur litterarum studia, - Alienus et immunis ab omni lascivia. - - 4 - - Felix confessor, cujus fuit dignitatis vox de coelo nuntia! - Per quam provectus, praesulatus sublimatur ad summa fastigia. - - 5 - - Erat in ejus animo pietas eximia, - Et oppressis impendebat multa beneficia. - - 6 - - Auro per eum virginum tollitur infamia, - Atque patris earumdem levatur inopia. - - 7 - - Quidam nautae navigantes, - Et contra fluctuum saevitiam luctantes, - Navi pene dissoluta, - Jam de vita desperantes, - In tanto positi periculo, clamantes - Voce dicunt omnes una: - - 8 - - 'O beate Nicolae, - Nos ad maris portum trahe - De mortis angustia. - Trahe nos ad portum maris, - Tu qui tot auxiliaris, - Pietatis gratia.' - - 9 - - Dum clamarent, nec incassum, - 'Ecce' quidam dicens, 'assum - Ad vestra praesidia.' - Statim aura datur grata - Et tempestas fit sedata: - Quieverunt maria. - - 10 - - Nos, qui sumus in hoc mundo, - Vitiorum in profundo - Jam passi naufragia, - Gloriose Nicolae - Ad salutis portum trahe, - Ubi pax et gloria. - - 11 - - Illam nobis unctionem - Impetres ad Dominum, - Prece pia, - Qua sanavit laesionem - Multorum peccaminum - In Maria. - - 12 - - Hujus festum celebrantes gaudeant per saecula, - Et coronet eos Christus post vitae curricula!"[322] - -The foregoing examples of religious poetry may be supplemented by -illustrations of the parallel evolution of more profane if not more -popular verse. Any priority in time, as between the two, should lie with -the former; though it may be the truer view to find a general synchronism -in the secular and religious phases of lyric growth. But priority of -originality and creativeness certainly belongs to that line of lyric -evolution which sprang from religious sentiments and emotions. For the -vagrant clerkly poet of the Court, the roadside, and the inn, used the -forms of verse fashioned by the religious muse in the cloister and the -school. Thus the development of secular Latin verse presents a derivative -parallel to the essentially primary evolution of the Sequence or the hymn. - -It was in Germany that the composition of Sequences was most zealously -cultivated during the century following Notker's death; and it was in -Germany that the Sequence, in its earlier forms, exerted most palpable -influence upon popular songs.[323] In these so-called Modi (_Modus_ == -song), as in the Sequence, rhythmical compositions may be seen progressing -in the direction of regular rhythm, rhyme, and strophic form. As in the -Sequences, the tune moulded the words, which in turn influenced the -melody. The following is from the _Modus Ottinc_, a popular song composed -about the year 1000 in honour of a victory of Otto III. over the -Hungarians: - - "His incensi bella fremunt, arma poscunt, hostes vocant, signa secuntur, - tubis canunt. - Clamor passim oritur et milibus centum Theutones inmiscentur. - - Pauci cedunt, plures cadunt, Francus instat, Parthus fugit; vulgus - exangue undis obstat; - Licus rubens sanguine Danubio cladem Parthicam ostendebat." - -Another example is the _Modus florum_ of approximately the same period, a -song about a king who promised his daughter to whoever could tell such a -lie as to force the king to call him a liar. It opens as follows: - - "Mendosam quam cantilenam ago, - puerulis commendatam dabo, - quo modulos per mendaces risum - auditoribus ingentem ferant. - - Liberalis et decora - cuidam regi erat nata - quam sub lege hujusmodi - procis opponit quaerendam." - - * * * *[324] - - -Here the rhyme still is rude and the rhythm irregular. The following -dirge, written thirty or forty years later on the death of the German -emperor, Henry II., shows improvement: - - "Lamentemur nostra, Socii, peccata, - amentemur et ploremus! Quare tacemus? - Pro iniquitate corruimus late; - scimus coeli hinc offensum regem immensum. - Heinrico requiem, rex Christe, dona perennem."[325] - -We may pass on into the twelfth century, still following the traces of -that development of popular verse which paralleled the evolution of the -Sequence. We first note some catchy rhymes of a German student setting -out for Paris in quest of learning and intellectual novelty: - - "Hospita in Gallia nunc me vocant studia. - Vadam ergo; flens a tergo socios relinquo. - Plangite discipuli, lugubris discidii tempore propinquo. - Vale, dulcis patria, suavis Suevorum Suevia! - Salve dilecta Francia, philosophorum curia! - Suscipe discipulum in te peregrinum, - Quem post dierum circulum remittes Socratinum."[326] - -This Suabian, singing his uncouth Latin rhymes, and footing his way to -Paris, suggests the common, delocalized influences which were developing a -mass of student-songs, "Carmina Burana," or "Goliardic" poetry. The -authors belonged to that large and broad class of _clerks_ made up of any -and all persons who knew Latin. The songs circulated through western -Europe, and their home was everywhere, if not their origin. Some of them -betray, as more of them do not, the author's land and race. Frequently of -diabolic cleverness, gibing, amorous, convivial, they show the virtuosity -in rhyme of their many makers. Like the hymns and later Sequences, they -employed of necessity those accentual measures which once had their -quantitative prototypes in antique metres. But, again like the hymns and -Sequences, they neither imitate nor borrow, but make use of trochaic, -iambic, or other rhythms as the natural and unavoidable material of verse. -Their strophes are new strophes, and not imitations of anything in -quantitative poetry. So these songs were free-born, and their development -was as independent of antique influence as the melodies which ever moulded -them to more perfect music. Many and divers were their measures. But as -that great strophe of Adam's _Heri mundus exultavit_ (the strophe of the -_Stabat Mater_) was of mightiest dominance among the hymns, so for these -student-songs there was also one measure that was chief. This was the -thirteen-syllable trochaic line, with its lilting change of stress after -the seventh syllable, and its pure two-syllable rhyme. It is the line of -the _Confessio poetae_, or _Confessio Goliae_, where nests that one -mediaeval Latin verse which everybody still knows by heart: - - "Meum est propositum in taberna mori, - Vinum sit appositum morientis ori, - Tunc cantabunt laetius angelorum chori, - 'Sit Deus propitius huic potatori.'" - -It is also the line of the quite charming Phyllis and Flora of the -_Carmina Burana_: - - "Erant ambae virgines et ambae reginae, - Phyllis coma libera, Flora compto crine: - Non sunt formae virginum, sed formae divinae, - Et respondent facie luci matutinae."[327] - -Another common measure is the twelve-syllable dactylic line of the famous -_Apocalypsis Goliae Episcopi_: - - "Ipsam Pythagorae formam aspicio, - Inscriptam artium schemate vario. - An extra corpus sit haec revelatio, - Utrum in corpore, Deus scit, nescio. - In fronte micuit ars astrologica; - Dentium seriem regit grammatica; - In lingua pulcrius vernat rhetorica, - Concussis aestuat in labiis logica." - -An example of the not infrequent eight-syllable line is afforded by that -tremendous satire against papal Rome, beginning: - - "Propter Sion non tacebo, - Sed ruinam Romae flebo, - Quousque justitia - Rursus nobis oriatur, - Et ut lampas accendatur - Justus in ecclesia." - -Here the last line of the verse has but seven syllables, as is the case in -the following verse of four lines: - - "Vinum bonum et suave, - Bonis bonum, pravis prave, - Cunctis dulcis sapor, ave, - Mundana laetitia!" - -But the eight-syllable lines may be kept throughout, as in the following -lament over life's lovely, pernicious charm, so touching in its expression -of the mortal heartbreak of mediaeval monasticism: - - "Heu! Heu! mundi vita, - Quare me delectas ita? - Cum non possis mecum stare, - Quid me cogis te amare? - - * * * * - - Vita mundi, res morbosa, - Magis fragilis quam rosa, - Cum sis tota lacrymosa, - Cur es mihi graciosa?"[328] - - -IV - -Our consideration of the different styles of mediaeval Latin prose and the -many novel forms of mediaeval Latin verse has shown how radical was the -departure of the one and the other from Cicero and Virgil. Through such -changes Latin continued to prove itself a living language. Yet its -vitality was doomed to wane before the rivalry of the vernacular tongues. -The _vivida vis_, the capability of growth, had well-nigh passed from -Latin when Petrarch was born. In endeavouring to maintain its supremacy as -a literary vehicle he was to hold a losing brief, nor did he strengthen -his cause by attempting to resuscitate a classic style of prose and metre. -The victory of the vernacular was announced in Dante's _De vulgari -eloquentia_ and demonstrated beyond dispute in his _Divina Commedia_. - -A long and for the most part peaceful and unconscious conflict had led up -to the victory of what might have been deemed the baser side. For Latin -was the sole mediaeval literature that was born in the purple, with its -stately lineage of the patristic and the classical back of it. Latin was -the language of the Roman world and the vehicle of Latin Christianity. It -was the language of the Church and its clergy, and the language of all -educated people. Naturally the entire contents of existing and -progressive Christian and antique culture were contained in the mediaeval -Latin literature, the literature of religion and of law and government, of -education and of all serious knowledge. It was to be the primary -literature of mediaeval thought; from which passed over the chief part of -whatever thought and knowledge the vernacular literatures were to receive. -For scholars who follow, as we have tried to, the intellectual and the -deeper emotional life of the Middle Ages, the Latin literature yields the -incomparably greater part of the material of our study. It has been our -home country, from which we have made casual excursions into the -vernacular literatures. - -These existed, however, from the earliest mediaeval periods, beginning, if -one may say so, in oral rather than written documents. We read that -Charlemagne caused a book to be made of Germanic poems, which till then -presumably had been carried in men's memories. The _Hildebrandslied_ is -supposed to have been one of them.[329] In the Norse lands, the Eddas and -the matter of the Sagas were repeated from generation to generation, long -before they were written down. The habit, if not the art, of writing came -with Christianity and the Latin education accompanying it. Gradually a -written literature in the Teutonic languages was accumulated. Of this -there was the heathen side, well represented in Anglo-Saxon and the Norse; -while in Old High German the _Hildebrandslied_ remains, heathen and -savage. Thereafter, a popular and even national or rather racial poetry -continued, developed, and grew large, notwithstanding the spread of Latin -Christianity through Teutonic lands. Of this the _Niebelungenlied_ and the -_Gudrun_ are great examples. But individual still famous poets, who felt -and thought as Germans, were also composing sturdily in their -vernacular--a lack of education possibly causing them to dictate -(_dictieren_, _dichten_) rather than to write. Of these the greatest were -Wolfram von Eschenbach and Walther von der Vogelweide. With them and after -them, or following upon the _Niebelungenlied_, came a mass of secular -poetry, some of which was popular and national, reflecting Germanic -story, while some of it was courtly, transcribing the courtly poetry which -by the twelfth century flourished in Old French. - -Thus bourgeoned the secular branches of German literature. On the other -hand, from the time of Christianity's introduction, the Germans felt the -need to have the new religion presented to them in their own tongues. The -labour of translation begins with Ulfilas, and is continued with -conscientious renderings of Scripture and Latin educational treatises, and -also with such epic paraphrase as the _Heliand_ and the more elegiac poems -of the Anglo-Saxon Cynewulf.[330] Also, at least in Germany, there comes -into existence a full religious literature, not stoled or mitred, but -popular, non-academic, and non-liturgical; of which quantities remain in -the Middle High German of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.[331] - -Obviously the Romance vernacular literatures had a different commencement. -The languages were Latin, simply Latin, in their inception, and never -ceased to be legitimate continuations and developments of the popular or -Vulgar Latin of the Roman Empire. But as the speech of children, women, -and unlettered people, they were not thought of as literary media. All who -could write understood perfectly the better Latin from which these popular -dialects were slowly differentiating themselves. And as they progressed to -languages, still their life and progress lay among peoples whose ancestral -tongue was the proper Latin, which all educated men and women still -understood and used in the serious business of life. - -But sooner or later men will talk and sing and think and compose in the -speech which is closest to them. The Romance tongues became literary -through this human need of natural expression. There always had been songs -in the old Vulgar Latin; and such did not cease as it gradually became -what one may call Romance. Moreover, the clergy might be impelled to use -the popular speech in preaching to the laity, or some unlearned person -might compose religious verses. Almost the oldest monument of Old French -is the hymn in honour of Ste. Eulalie. Then as civilization advanced from -the tenth to the twelfth century, in southern and northern France for -example, and the _langue d'oc_ and the _langue d'oil_ became independent -and developed languages, unlearned men, or men with unlearned audiences, -would unavoidably set themselves to composing poetry in these tongues. In -the North the _chansons de geste_ came into existence; in the South the -knightly Troubadours made love-lyrics. Somehow, these poems were written -down, and there was literature for men's eyes as well as for men's ears. - -In the twelfth century and the thirteenth, the audiences for Romance -poetry, especially through the regions of southern and northern France, -increased and became diversified. They were made up of all classes, save -the brute serf, and of both sexes. The _chansons de geste_ met the taste -of the feudal barons; the Arthurian Cycle charmed the feudal dames; the -coarse _fabliaux_ pleased the bourgeoisie; and _chansons_ of all kinds -might be found diverting by various people. If the religious side was less -strongly represented, it was because the closeness of the language to the -clerkly and liturgical Latin left no such need of translations as was felt -from the beginning among peoples of Germanic speech. Still the Gospels, -especially the apocryphal, were put into Old French, and _miracles de -Notre Dame_ without number; also legends of the saints, and devout tales -of many kinds. - -The accentual verses of the Romance tongues had their source in the -popular accentual Latin verse of the later Roman period. Their development -was not unrelated to the Latin accentual verse which was superseding -metrical composition in the centuries extending, one may say, from the -fifth to the eleventh. Divergences between the Latin and Romance verse -would be caused by the linguistic evolution through which the Romance -tongues were becoming independent languages. Nor was this divergence -uninfluenced by the fact that Romance poetry was popular and usually -concerned with topics of this life, while Latin poetry in the most -striking lines of its evolution was liturgical; and even when secular in -topic tended to become learned, since it was the product of the -academically educated classes. Much of the vernacular (Romance as well as -Germanic) poetry in the Middle Ages was composed by unlearned men who had -at most but a speaking acquaintance with Latin, and knew little of the -antique literature. This was true, generally, of the Troubadours of -Provence, of the authors of the Old French _chansons de geste_, and of -such a courtly poet as Chretien de Troies; true likewise of the great -German Minnesingers, epic poets rather, Gottfried von Strassburg, Wolfram -von Eschenbach, and Walther von der Vogelweide. - -On the other hand, vernacular poetry might be written by highly learned -men, of whom the towering though late example would be Dante Alighieri. An -instance somewhat nearer to us at present is Jean Clopinel or de Meun, the -author of the second part of the _Roman de la rose_. His extraordinary -Voltairean production embodies all the learning of the time; and its -scholar-author was a man of genius, who incorporated his learning and the -fruit thereof very organically in his poem. - -But here, at the close of our consideration of the mediaeval appreciation -of the Classics, and the relations between the Classics and mediaeval -Latin literature, we are not occupied with the very loose and general -question of the amount of classical learning to be found in the vernacular -literatures of western Europe. That was a casual matter depending on the -education and learning, or lack thereof, of the author of the given piece. -But it may be profitable to glance at the passing over of antique themes -of story into mediaeval vernacular literature, and the manner of their -refashioning. This is a huge subject, but we shall not go into it deeply, -or pursue the various antique themes through their endless propagations. - -Antique stories aroused and pointed the mediaeval imagination; they made -part of the never-absent antique influence which helped to bring the -mediaeval peoples on and evoke in them an articulate power to fashion and -create all kinds of mediaeval things. But with antique story as with other -antique material, the Middle Ages had to turn it over and absorb it, and -also had to become themselves with power, before they could refashion the -antique theme or create along its lines. All this had taken place by the -middle of the twelfth century. As to choice of matter, twelfth-century -refashioners would either select an antique theme suited to their -handling, or extract what appealed to them from some classic story. In the -one case as in the other they might recast, enlarge, or invent as their -faculties permitted. - -Mediaeval taste took naturally to the degenerate productions of the late -antique or transition centuries. The Greek novels seem to have been -unknown, except the _Apollonius of Tyre_.[332] But the congenially -preposterous story of Alexander by the Pseudo-Callisthenes was available -in a sixth-century Latin version, and was made much of. Equally popular -was the debasement and intentional distortion of the Tale of Troy in the -work of "Dares" and "Dictys"; other tales were aptly presented in Ovid's -_Metamorphoses_; and the stories of Hero and Leander, of Pyramus and -Thisbe, of Narcissus, Orpheus, Cadmus, Daedalus, were widely known and -often told in the Middle Ages. - -The mediaeval writers made as if they believed these tales. At least they -accepted them as they would have their own audiences accept their -recasting, with little reflection as to whether truth or fable. But was -the work of the refashioners conscious fiction? Scarcely, when it simply -recast the old story in mediaevalizing paraphrase; but when the poet went -on and wove out of ten lines a thousand, he must have known himself -devising. - -The mediaeval treatment of classic themes of history and epic poetry shows -how the Middle Ages refashioned and reinspired after their own image -whatever they took from the antique. If it was partly their fault, it was -also their unavoidable misfortune that they received these great themes in -the literary distortions of the transition centuries. Doubtless they -preferred encyclopaedic dulness to epic unity; they loved fantasy rather -than history, and of course delighted in the preposterous, as they found -it in the Latin version of the _Life and Deeds of Alexander_. As for the -Tale of Troy, the real Homer never reached them: and perhaps mediaeval -peoples who were pleased, like Virgil's Romans, to draw their origins from -Trojan heroes, would have rejected Homer's story just as "Dares" and -"Dictys," whoever they were, did.[333] The true mediaeval _rifacimenti_, -to wit, the retellings of these tales in the vernacular, mirror the -mediaeval mind, the mediaeval character, and the whole panorama of -mediaeval life and fantasy. - -The chief epic themes drawn from the antique were the Tales of Troy and -Thebes and the story of Aeneas. In verse and prose they were retold in the -vernacular literatures and also in mediaeval Latin.[334] We shall, -however, limit our view to the primary Old French versions, which formed -the basis of compositions in German, Italian, English, as well as French. -They were composed between 1150 and 1170 by Norman-French _trouveres_. The -names of the authors of the _Roman de Thebes_ and the _Eneas_ are unknown; -the _Roman de Troie_ was written by Benoit de St. More. - -These poems present a universal substitution of mediaeval manners and -sentiment. For instance, one observes that the epic participation of the -pagan gods is minimized, and in the _Roman de Troie_ even discarded; -necromancy, on the other hand, abounds. A more interesting change is the -transformation of the love episode. That had become an epic adjunct in -Alexandrian Greek literature as early as the third century before Christ. -It existed in the antique sources of all these mediaeval poems. -Nevertheless the romantic narratives of courtly love in the latter are -mediaeval creations. - -The _Eneas_ relates the love of Lavinia for the hero, most correctly -reciprocated by him. The account of it fills fourteen hundred lines, and -has no precedent in Virgil's poem, which in other respects is followed -closely. Lavinia sees Aeneas from her tower, and at once understands a -previous discourse of her mother on the subject of love. She utters love's -plaints, and then faints because Aeneas does not seem to notice her. After -which she passes a sleepless night. The next morning she tells her mother, -who is furious, since she favours Turnus as a suitor. The girl falls -senseless, but coming to herself when alone, she recalls love's -stratagems, and attaches a letter to an arrow which is shot so as to fall -at Aeneas's feet. Aeneas reads the letter, and turns and salutes the fair -one furtively, that his followers may not see. Then he enters his tent and -falls so sick with love that he takes to his bed. The next day Lavinia -watches for him, and thinks him false, till at last, pale and feeble, he -appears, and her heart acquits him; amorous glances now fly back and forth -between them.[335] - -To have this jaded jilt grow sick with love is a little too much for us, -and Aeneas is absurd; but the universal human touches us quite otherwise -in the sweet changing heart of Briseida in the _Roman de Troie_. There is -no ground for denying to Benoit of St. More his meed of fame for creating -this charming person and starting her upon her career. Following "Dares," -Benoit calls her Briseida; but she becomes the Griseis of Boccaccio's -_Filostrato_; and what good man does not sigh and love her under the name -of Cressid in Chaucer's poem, though he may deplore her somewhat brazen -heartlessness in Shakespeare's play. - -It is not given to all men, or women, in presence or absence, in life and -death, to love once and forever. One has the stable heart, another's -fancy is quickly turned. Sometimes, of course, our moral sledge-hammers -should be brought to bear; but a little hopeless smile may be juster, as -we sigh "she (it is more often "he") couldn't help it." Such was Briseida, -the sweet, loving, helpless--coquette? jilt? flirt? these words are all -too belittling to tell her truly. Benoit knew better. He took her -dry-as-dust characterization from "Dares"; he gave it life, and then let -his fair creature do just the things she might, without ceasing to be she. - -The abject "Dares" (Benoit may have had a better story under that name) in -his catalogue of characters has this: "Briseidam formosam, alta statura, -candidam, capillo flavo et molli, superciliis junctis, oculis venustis, -corpore aequali, blandam, affabilem, verecundam, animo simplici [O ye -gods!], piam." He makes no other mention of this tall, graceful girl, with -her lovely eyes and eyebrows meeting above, her modest, pleasant mien, and -simple soul; for simple she was, and therein lies the direst bit of truth -about her. For it is simple and uncomplex to take the colour of new scenes -and faces, and of new proffered love when the old is far away. - -Now see what Benoit does with this dust: Briseida is the daughter of -Calchas, a Trojan seer who had passed over to the Greeks, warned by -Apollo. He is in the Grecian host, but his daughter is in Troy. Benoit -says, she was engaging, lovelier and fairer than the _fleur de -lis_--though her eyebrows grew rather too close together. "Beaux yeux" she -had, "de grande maniere," and charming was her talk, and faultless her -breeding as her dress. Much was she loved and much she loved, although her -heart changed; and she was very loving, simple, and kind: - - "Molt fu amee et molt ameit, - Mes sis corages li changeit; - Et si esteit molt amorose, - Simple et almosniere et pitose."[336] - -Calchas wants his daughter, and Priam decides to send her. There is truce -between the armies. Troilus, Troy's glorious young knight, matchless in -beauty, in arms second only to his brother Hector, is beside himself. He -loves Briseida, and she him. What tears and protestations, and what vows! -But the girl must go to her father. - -On the morrow the young dame has other cares--to see to the packing of her -lovely dresses and put on the loveliest of them; over all she threw a -mantle inwoven with the flowers of Paradise. The Trojan ladies add their -tears to the damsel's; for she is ready to die of grief at leaving her -lover. Benoit assures us that she will not weep long; it is not woman's -way, he continues somewhat mediaevally. - -The brilliant cortege is met by one still more distinguished from the -Grecian host. Troilus must turn back, and the lady passes to the escort of -Diomede. She was young; he was impetuous; he looks once, and then greets -her with a torrential declaration of love. He never loved before!! He is -hers, body and soul and high emprize. Briseida speaks him fair: - - "At this time it would be wrong for me to say a word of love. You - would deem me light indeed! Why, I hardly know you! and girls so often - are deceived by men. What you have said cannot move a heart grieving, - like mine, to lose my--friend, and others whom I may never see again. - For one of my station to speak to you of love! I have no mind for - that. Yet you seem of such rank and prowess that no girl under heaven - ought to refuse you. It is only that I have no heart to give. If I - had, surely I could hold none dearer than you. But I have neither the - thought nor power, and may God never give it to me!"[337] - -One need not tell the flash of joy that then was Diomede's, nor the many -troubles that were to be his before at last Briseida finds that her heart -has indeed turned to this new lover, always at hand, courting danger for -her sake, and at last wounded almost to death by Troilus's spear. The end -of the story is assured in her first discreetly halting words. - -Enough has been said to show how far Benoit was from _Omers qui fu clers -merveillos_, and what a story in some thirty thousand lines he has made of -the dry data of "Dares" and "Dictys." His Briseida, with her changing -heart, was to rival steadier-minded but not more lovable women of -mediaeval fiction--Iseult or Guinevere. And although the far-off echo of -Briseid's name comes from the ancient centuries, none the less she is as -entirely a mediaeval creation as Lancelot's or Tristram's queen. Thus the -Middle Ages took the antique narrative, and created for themselves within -the altered lines of the old tale.[338] - -The transformation of themes of epic story in vernacular mediaeval -versions is paralleled by mediaeval refashionings of historical subjects -which had been fictionized before the antique period closed. A chief -example is the romance of Alexander the Great. The antique source was the -conqueror's _Life and Deeds_, written by one who took the name of -Alexander's physician, Callisthenes. The author was some Egyptian Greek of -the first century after Christ. His work is preposterous from the -beginning to the end, and presents a succession of impossible marvels -performed by the somewhat indistinguishable heroes of the story. Its -qualities were reflected in the Latin versions, which in turn were drawn -upon by the Old French rhyming romancers. The latter mediaevalized and -feudalized the tale. Nor were they halted by any absurdity, or conscious -of the characterlessness of the puppets of the tale.[339] - -Further to pursue the fortunes of antique themes in mediaeval literature -would lead us beyond bounds. Yet mention should be made of the handling of -minor narratives, as the _Metamorphoses_ of Ovid. They were very popular, -and from the twelfth century on, paraphrases or refashionings were made of -many of them. These added to the old tale the interesting mediaeval -element of the moral or didactic allegory. The most prodigious instance of -this moralizing of Ovid was the work of Chretien Legouais, a French -Franciscan who wrote at the beginning of the fourteenth century. In some -seventy thousand lines he presented the stories of the _Metamorphoses_, -the allegories which he discovered in them, and the moral teaching of the -same.[340] - -Equally interesting was the application of allegory to Ovid's _Ars -amatoria_. The first translators treated this frivolous production as an -authoritative treatise upon the art of winning love. So it was perhaps, -only Ovid was amusing himself by making a parable of his youthful -diversions. Mediaeval imitators changed the habits of the gilded youth of -Rome to suit the society of their time. But they did more, being votaries -of courtly love. Such love in the Middle Ages had its laws which were -prone to deduce their lineage from Ovid's verses. But its uplifted spirit -revelled in symbolism; and tended to change to spiritual allegory whatever -authority it imagined itself based upon, even though the authority were a -book as dissolute, when seriously considered, as the _Ars amatoria_. It is -strange to think of this poem as the very far off street-walking prototype -of De Lorris's _Roman de la rose_. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -MEDIAEVAL APPROPRIATION OF THE ROMAN LAW - - I. THE FONTES JURIS CIVILIS. - - II. ROMAN AND BARBARIAN CODIFICATION. - - III. THE MEDIAEVAL APPROPRIATION. - - IV. CHURCH LAW. - - V. POLITICAL THEORIZING. - - -Classical studies, and the gradual development of mediaeval prose and -verse, discussed in the preceding chapters, illustrate modes of mediaeval -progress. But of all examples of mediaeval intellectual growth through the -appropriation of the antique, none is more completely illuminating than -the mediaeval use of Roman law. As with patristic theology and antique -philosophy, the Roman law was crudely taken and then painfully learned, -till in the end, vitally and broadly mastered, it became even a means and -mode of mediaeval thinking. Its mediaeval appropriation illustrates the -legal capacity of the Middle Ages and their concern with law both as a -practical business and an intellectual interest. - - -I - -Primitive law is practical; it develops through the adjustment of social -exigencies. Gradually, however, in an intelligent community which is -progressing under favouring influences, some definite consciousness of -legal propriety, utility, or justice, makes itself articulate in -statements of general principles of legal right and in a steady endeavour -to adjust legal relationships and adjudicate actual controversies in -accordance. This endeavour to formulate just and useful principles, and -decide novel questions in accordance with them, and enunciate new rules in -harmony with the body of the existing law, is jurisprudence, which thus -works always for concord, co-ordination, and system. - -There was a jurisprudential element in the early law of Rome. The Twelve -Tables are trenchant announcements of rules of procedure and substantial -law. They have the form of the general imperative: "Thus let it be; If one -summons [another] to court, let him go; As a man shall have appointed by -his Will, so let it be; When one makes a bond or purchase,[341] as the -tongue shall have pronounced it, so let it be." These statements of legal -rules are far from primitive; they are elastic, inclusive, and suited to -form the foundation of a large and free legal development. And the -consistency with which the law of debt was carried out to its furthest -cruel conclusion, the permitted division of the body of the defaulting -debtor among several creditors,[342] gave earnest of the logic which was -to shape the Roman law in its humaner periods. Moreover, there is -jurisprudence in the arrangement of the Laws of the Twelve Tables. -Nevertheless the jurisprudential element is still but inchoate. - -The Romans were endowed with a genius for law. Under the later Republic -and the Empire, the minds of their jurists were trained and broadened by -Greek philosophy and the study of the laws of Mediterranean peoples; Rome -was becoming the commercial as well as social and political centre of the -world. From this happy combination of causes resulted the most -comprehensive body of law and the noblest jurisprudence ever evolved by a -people. The great jurisconsults of the Empire, working upon the prior -labours of long lines of older praetors and jurists, perfected a body of -law of well-nigh universal applicability, and throughout logically -consistent with general principles of law and equity, recognized as -fundamental. These were in part suggested by Greek philosophy, especially -by Stoicism as adapted to the Roman temperament. They represented the best -ethics, the best justice of the time. As principles of law, however, they -would have hung in the air, had not the practical as well as theorizing -genius of the jurisconsults been equal to the task of embodying them in -legal propositions, and applying the latter to the decision of cases. Thus -was evolved a body of practical rules of law, controlled, co-ordinated, -and, as one may say, universalized through the constant logical employment -of sound principles of legal justice.[343] - -The Roman law, broadly taken, was heterogeneous in origin, and complex in -its modes of growth. The great jurisconsults of the Empire recognized its -diversity of source, and distinguished its various characteristics -accordingly. They assumed (and this was a pure assumption) that every -civilized people lived under two kinds of law, the one its own, springing -from some recognized law-making source within the community; the other the -_jus gentium_, or the law inculcated among all peoples by natural reason -or common needs. - -The supposed origin of the _jus gentium_ was not simple. Back in the time -of the Republic it had become necessary to recognize a law for the many -strangers in Rome, who were not entitled to the protection of Rome's _jus -civile_. The edict of the praetor Peregrinus covered their substantial -rights, and sanctioned simple modes of sale and lease which did not -observe the forms prescribed by the _jus civile_. So this edict became the -chief source of the _jus gentium_ so-called, to wit, of those liberal -rules of law which ignored the peculiar formalities of the stricter law of -Rome. Probably foreign laws, that is to say, the commercial customs of the -Mediterranean world, were in fact recognized; and their study led to a -perception of elements common to the laws of many peoples. At all events, -in course of time the _jus gentium_ came to be regarded as consisting of -universal rules of law which all peoples might naturally follow. - -The recognition of these simple modes of contracting obligations, and -perhaps the knowledge that certain rules of law obtained among many -peoples, fostered the conception of common or natural justice, which human -reason was supposed to inculcate everywhere. Such a conception could not -fail to spring up in the minds of Roman jurists who were educated in -Stoical philosophy, the ethics of which had much to say of a common human -nature. Indeed the idea _naturalis ratio_ was in the air, and the thought -of common elements of law and justice which _naturalis ratio inter omnes -homines constituit_, lay so close at hand that it were perhaps a mistake -to try to trace it to any single source. Practically the _jus gentium_ -became identical with _jus naturale_, which Ulpian imagined as taught by -nature to all animals; the _jus gentium_, however, belonged to men -alone.[344] - -Thus rules which were conceived as those of the _jus gentium_ came to -represent the principles of rational law, and impressed themselves upon -the development of the _jus civile_. They informed the whole growth and -application of Roman law with a breadth of legal reason. And conceptions -of a _jus naturale_ and a _jus gentium_ became cognate legal fictions, by -the aid of which praetor and jurisconsult might justify the validity of -informal modes of contract. In their application, judge and jurist learned -how and when to disregard the formal requirements of the older and -stricter Roman law, and found a way to the recognition of what was just -and convenient. These fictions agreed with the supposed nature and demands -of _aequitas_, which is the principle of progressive and discriminating -legal justice. Law itself (_jus_) was identical with _aequitas_ conceived -(after Celsus's famous phrase) as the _ars boni et aequi_. - -The Roman law proper, the _jus civile_, had multifarious sources. First -the _leges_, enacted by the people; then the _plebiscita_, sanctioned by -the Plebs; the _senatus consulta_, passed by the Senate; the -_constitutiones_ and _rescripta[345] principum_, ordained by the Emperor. -Excepting the _rescripta_, these (to cover them with a modern expression) -were statutory. They were laws announced at a specific time to meet some -definite exigency. Under the Empire, the _constitutiones principum_ became -the most important, and then practically the only kind of legal enactment. - -Two or three other sources of Roman law remain for mention: first, the -_edicta_ of those judicial magistrates, especially the praetors, who had -the authority to issue them. In his edict the praetor announced what he -held to be the law and how he would apply it. The edict of each successive -praetor was a renewal and expansion or modification of that of his -predecessor. Papinian calls this source of law the "_jus praetorium_, -which the praetors have introduced to aid, supplement, or correct the _jus -civile_ for the sake of public utility." - -Next, the _responsa_ or _auctoritas jurisprudentium_, by which were -intended the judicial decisions and the authority of the legal writings of -the famous jurisconsults. Imperial rescripts recognized these _responsa_ -as authoritative for the Roman courts; and some of the emperors embodied -portions of them in formally promulgated collections, thereby giving them -the force of law. Justinian's _Digest_ is the great example of this method -of codification.[346] One need scarcely add that the authoritative -writings and _responsa_ of the jurisconsults extended and applied the _jus -gentium_, that is to say, the rules and principles of the best-considered -jurisprudence, freed so far as might be from the formal peculiarities of -the _jus civile_ strictly speaking. And the same was true of the -praetorian edict. The Roman law also gave legal effect to _inveterata -consuetudo_, the law which is sanctioned by custom: "for since the laws -bind us because established by the decision of the people, those unwritten -customs which the people have approved are binding."[347] - -Simply naming the sources of Roman law indicates the ways in which it -grew, and the part taken by the jurisconsults in its development as a -universal and elastic system. It was due to their labours that legal -principles were logically carried out through the mass of enactments and -decisions; that is, it was due to their large consideration of the body of -existing law, that each novel decision--each case of first -impression--should be a true legal deduction, and not a solecism; and that -even the new enactments should not create discordant law. And it was due -to their labours that as rules of law were called forth, they were stated -clearly and in terms of well-nigh universal applicability. - -The Laws of the Twelve Tables showed the action of legal intelligence and -the result of much experience. They sanctioned a large contractual -freedom, if within strict forms; they stated broadly the right of -testamentary disposition. Many of their provisions, which commonly were -but authoritative recognitions, were expressions of basic legal -principles, the application of which might be extended to meet the needs -of advancing civic life. And through the enlargement of this fundamental -collection of law, or deviating from it in accordance with principles -which it implicitly embodied, the jurists of the Republic and the first -centuries of the Empire formed and developed a body of private and public -law from which the jurisprudence of Europe and America has never even -sought to free itself. - -Roman jurisprudence was finally incorporated in Justinian's _Digest_, -which opens with a statement of the most general principles, even those -which would have hung in the air but for the Roman genius of logical and -practical application to the concrete instance. "Jus est ars boni et -aequi"--it is better to leave these words untranslated, such is the wealth -of significance and connotation which they have acquired. "Justitia est -constans et perpetua voluntas jus suum cuique tribuendi. Juris praecepta -sunt haec: honeste vivere, alterum non laedere, suum cuique tribuere. -Jurisprudentia est divinarum atque humanarum rerum notitia, justi atque -injusti scientia." - -The first pregnant phrase is from the older jurist Celsus; the longer -passage is by the later Ulpian, and may be taken as an expansion of the -first. Both the one and the other expressed the most advanced and -philosophic ethics of the ancient world. They are both in the first -chapter of the _Digest_, wherein they become enactments. An extract from -Paulus follows: "_Jus_ has different meanings; that which is always -_aequum ac bonum_ is called _jus_, to wit, the _jus naturale_: _jus_ also -means the _jus civile_, that which is expedient (_utile_) for all or most -in any state. And in our state we have also the praetorian _jus_." This -passage indicates the course of the development of the Roman law: the -fundamental and ceaselessly growing core of specifically Roman law, the -_jus civile_; its continual equitable application and enlargement, which -was the praetor's contribution; and the constant application of the -_aequum ac bonum_, observed perhaps in legal rules common to many peoples, -but more surely existing in the high reasoning of jurists instructed in -the best ethics and philosophy of the ancient world, and learned and -practised in the law. - -Now notice some of the still general, but distinctly legal, rather than -ethical, rules collected in the _Digest_: The laws cannot provide -specifically for every case that may arise; but when their intent is -plain, he who is adjudicating a cause should proceed _ad similia_, and -thus declare the law in the case.[348] Here is stated the general and -important formative principle, that new cases should be decided -consistently and _eleganter_, which means logically and in accordance with -established rules. Yet legal solecisms will exist, perhaps in a statute or -in some rule of law evoked by a special exigency. Their application is -not to be extended. For them the rule is: "What has been accepted _contra -rationem juris_, is not to be drawn out (_producendum_) to its -consequences,"[349] or again: "What was introduced not by principle, but -at first through error, does not obtain in like cases."[350] - -These are true principles making for the consistent development of a body -of law. Observe the scope and penetration of some other general rules: -"Nuptias non concubitus, sed consensus facit."[351] This goes to the legal -root of the whole conception of matrimony, and is still the recognized -starting-point of all law upon that subject. Again: "An agreement to -perform what is impossible will not sustain a suit."[352] This is still -everywhere a fundamental principle of the law of contracts. Again: "No one -can transfer to another a greater right than he would have himself,"[353] -another principle of fundamental validity, but, of course, like all rules -of law subject in its application to the qualifying operation of other -legal rules. - -Roman jurisprudence recognized the danger of definition: "Omnis definitio -in jure civili periculosa est."[354] Yet it could formulate admirable -ones; for example: "Inheritance is succession to the sum total (_universum -jus_) of the rights of the deceased."[355] This definition excels in the -completeness of its legal view of the matter, and is not injured by the -obvious omission to exclude those personal privileges and rights of the -deceased which terminate upon his death. - -Thus we note the sources and constructive principles of the Roman law. We -observe that while certain of the former might be called "statutory," the -chief means and method of development was the declarative edict of the -praetor and the trained labour of the jurisconsults. In these appears the -consummate genius of Roman jurisprudence, a jurisprudence matchless in its -rational conception of principles of justice which were rooted in a -philosophic consideration of human life; matchless also in its carrying -through of such principles into the body of the law and the decision of -every case. - - -II - -The Roman law was the creation of the genius of Rome and also the product -of the complex civilization of which Rome was the kinetic centre. As the -Roman power crumbled, Teutonic invaders established kingdoms within -territories formerly subject to Rome and to her law--a law, however, which -commonly had been modified to suit the peoples of the provinces. Those -territories retained their population of provincials. The invaders, -Burgundians, Visigoths, and Franks, planting themselves in the different -parts of Gaul, brought their own law, under which they continued to live, -but which they did not force upon the provincial population. On the -contrary, Burgundian and Visigothic kings promulgated codes of Roman law -for the latter. And these represent the forms in which the Roman law first -passed over into modes of acceptance and application no longer fully -Roman, but partly Teutonic and incipiently mediaeval. They exemplify, -moreover, the fact, so many aspects of which have been already noticed, of -transitional and partly barbarized communities drawing from a greater past -according to their simpler needs. - -One may say that these codes carried on processes of decline from the full -creative genius of Roman jurisprudence, which had irrevocably set in under -the Empire in the fourth and fifth centuries. The decline lay in a -weakening of the intellectual power devoted to the law and its -development. The living growth of the praetorian edict had long since come -to an end; and now a waning jurisprudential intelligence first ceased to -advance the development of law, and then failed to save from desuetude the -achieved jurisprudence of the past. So the jurisprudential and juridical -elements (_jus_) fell away from the law, and the imperial constitutions -(_leges_) remained the sole legal vehicle and means of amendment. The need -of codification was felt, and that preserving and eliminating process was -entered upon. - -Roman codification never became a reformulation. The Roman _Codex_ was a -collection of existing constitutions. A certain jurist ("Gregorianus") -made an orderly and comprehensive collection of such as early as the close -of Diocletian's reign; it was supplemented by the work of another jurist -("Hermogenianus") in the time of Constantine. Each compilation was the -work of a private person, who, without authority to restate, could but -compile the imperial constitutions. The same method was adopted by the -later codifications, which were made and promulgated under imperial -decree. There were two which were to be of supreme importance for the -legal future of western Europe, the Theodosian Code and the legislation of -Justinian. The former was promulgated in 438 by Theodosius II. and -Valentinianus. The emperors formally announce that "in imitation (_ad -similitudinem_) of the Code of Gregorianus and Hermogenianus we have -decreed that all the Constitutions should be collected" which have been -promulgated by Constantine and his successors, including ourselves.[356] -So the Theodosian Code contains many laws of the emperors who decreed -it.[357] It was thus a compilation of imperial constitutions already in -existence, or decreed from year to year while the codification was in -process (429-438). Every constitution is given in the words of its -original announcement, and with the name of the emperor. Evidently this -code was not a revision of the law. - -The codification of Justinian began with the promulgation of the _Codex_ -in 529. That was intended to be a compilation of the constitutions -contained in the previous codes and still in force, as well as those which -had been decreed since the time of Theodosius. The compilers received -authority to omit, abbreviate, and supplement. The _Codex_ was revised and -promulgated anew in 534. The constitutions which were decreed during the -remainder of Justinian's long reign were collected after his death and -published as _Novellae_. So far there was nothing radically novel. But, -under Justinian, life and art seemed to have revived in the East; and -Tribonian, with the others who assisted in these labours, had larger views -of legal reform and jurisprudential conservation than the men who worked -for Theodosius. Justinian and his coadjutors had also serious plans for -improving the teaching of the law, in the furtherance of which the famous -little book of _Institutes_ was composed after the model, and to some -extent in the words, of the _Institutes_ of Gaius. It was published in -533. - -The great labour, however, which Justinian and his lawyers were as by -Providence inspired to achieve was the encyclopaedic codification of the -jurisprudential law. Part of the emperor's high-sounding command runs -thus: - - "We therefore command you to read and sift out from the books - pertaining to the _jus Romanum_ composed by the ancient learned - jurists (_antiqui prudentes_) to whom the most sacred emperors granted - authority to indite and interpret the laws, so that the material may - all be taken from these writers, and incongruity avoided--for others - have written books which have been neither used nor recognized. When - by the favour of the Deity this material shall have been collected, it - should be reared with toil most beautiful, and consecrated as the own - and most holy temple of justice, and the whole law (_totum jus_) - should be arranged in fifty books under specific titles."[358] - -The language of the ancient jurists was to be preserved even critically, -that is to say, the compilers were directed to emend apparent errors and -restore what seemed "verum et optimum et quasi ab initio scriptum." It was -not the least of the providential mercies connected with the compilation -of this great body of jurisprudential law, that Justinian and his -commission did not abandon the phrasing of the old jurisconsults, and -restate their opinions in such language as we have a sample of in the -constitution from which the above extract is taken. This jurisprudential -part of Justinian's Codification was named the _Digest_ or -_Pandects_.[359] - -Inasmuch as Justinian's brief reconquest of western portions of the Roman -Empire did not extend north of the Alps, his codification was not -promulgated in Gaul or Germany. Even in Italy his legislation did not -maintain itself in general dominance, especially in the north where the -Lombard law narrowed its application. Moreover, throughout the peninsula, -the _Pandects_ quickly became as if they were not, and fell into -desuetude, if that can be said of a work which had not come into use. This -body of jurisprudential law was beyond the legal sense of those -monarchically-minded and barbarizing centuries, which knew law only as the -command of a royal lawgiver. The _Codex_ and the _Novellae_ were of this -nature. They, and not the _Digest_, represent the influence upon Italy of -Justinian's legislation until the renewed interest in jurisprudence -brought the _Pandects_ to the front at the close of the eleventh century. -But _Codex_ and _Novellae_ were too bulky for a period that needed to have -its intellectual labours made easy. From the first, the _Novellae_ were -chiefly known and used in the condensed form given them in the excellent -_Epitome of Julianus_, apparently a Byzantine of the last part of -Justinian's reign.[360] The cutting down and epitomizing of the _Codex_ is -more obscure; probably it began at once; the incomplete or condensed forms -were those in common use.[361] - -It is, however, with the Theodosian Code and certain survivals of the -works of the great jurists that we have immediately to do. For these were -the sources of the codes enacted by Gothic and Burgundian kings for their -Roman or Gallo-Roman subjects. Apparently the earliest of them was -prepared soon after the year 502, at the command of Gondebaud, King of the -Burgundians. This, which later was dubbed the _Papianus_,[362] was the -work of a skilled Roman lawyer, and seems quite as much a text-book as a -code. It set forth the law of the topics important for the Roman -provincials living in the Burgundian kingdom, not merely making extracts -from its sources, but stating their contents and referring to them as -authorities. These sources were substantially the same as those used by -the Visigothic _Breviarium_, which was soon to supersede the _Papianus_ -even in Burgundy. - -_Breviarium_ was the popular name of the code enacted by the Visigothic -king Alaric II. about the year 506 for his _provinciales_ in the south of -Gaul.[363] It preserved the integrity of its sources, giving the texts in -the same order, and with the same rubrics, as in the original. The -principal source was the Theodosian Code; next in importance the -collections of _Novellae_ of Theodosius and succeeding emperors: a few -texts were taken from the Codes of "Gregorianus" and "Hermogenianus." -These parts of the _Breviarium_ consisted of _leges_, that is, of -constitutions of the emperors. Two sources of quite a different character -were also drawn upon. One was the _Institutes_ of Gaius, or rather an old -epitome which had been made from it. The other was the _Sententiae_ of -Paulus, the famous "Five Books of Sentences _ad filium_." This work of -elementary jurisprudence deserved its great repute; yet its use in the -_Breviarium_ may have been due to the special sanction which had been -given it in one of the constitutions of the Theodosian Code, also taken -over into the _Breviarium_: "Pauli quoque sententias semper valere -praecipimus."[364] The same constitution confirmed the _Institutes_ of -Gaius, among other great jurisconsults. Presumably these two works were -the most commonly known as well as the clearest and best of elementary -jurisprudential compositions. - -An interesting feature of the _Breviarium_, and destined to be of great -importance, was the _Interpretatio_ accompanying all its texts, except -those drawn from the epitome of Gaius. This was not the work of Alaric's -compilers, but probably represents the approved exposition of the _leges_, -with the exposition of the already archaic _Sentences_ of Paulus, current -in the law schools of southern Gaul in the fifth century. The -_Interpretatio_ thus taken into the _Breviarium_ had, like the texts, the -force of royal law, and soon was to surpass them in practice by reason of -its perspicuity and modernity. Many manuscripts contain only the -_Interpretatio_ and omit the texts. - -The _Breviarium_ became the source of Roman law, indeed the Roman law _par -excellence_, for the Merovingian and then the Carolingian realm, outside -of Italy. It was soon subjected to the epitomizing process, and its -epitomes exist, dating from the eighth to the tenth century: they reduced -it in bulk, and did away with the practical inconvenience of _lex_ and -_interpretatio_. Further, the _Breviarium_, and even the epitomes, were -glossed with numerous marginal or interlinear notes made by transcribers -or students. These range from definitions of words, sometimes taken from -Isidore's _Etymologiae_, to brief explanations of difficulties in the -text.[365] In like manner in Italy, the _Codex_ and _Novellae_ of -Justinian were, as has been said, reduced to epitomes, and also equipped -with glosses. - -These barbaric codes of Roman law mark the passage of Roman law into -incipiently mediaeval stages. On the other hand, certain Latin codes of -barbarian law present the laws of the Teutons touched with Roman -conceptions, and likewise becoming inchoately mediaeval. - -Freedom, the efficient freedom of the individual, belongs to civilization -rather than to barbarism. The actual as well as imaginary perils -surrounding the lives of men who do not dwell in a safe society, entail a -state of close mutual dependence rather than of liberty. Law in a -civilized community has the twofold purpose of preserving the freedom of -the individual and of maintaining peace. With each advance in human -progress, the latter purpose, at least in the field of private civil law, -recedes a little farther, while the importance of private law, as -compared with penal law, constantly increases. - -The law of uncivilized peoples lacks the first of these purposes. Its sole -conscious object is to maintain, or at least provide a method of -maintaining peace; it is scarcely aware that in maintaining peace it is -enhancing the freedom of every individual. - -The distinct and conscious purpose of early Teutonic law was to promote -peace within the tribe, or among the members of a warband. Thus was law -regarded by the people--as a means of peace. Its communication or -ordainment might be ascribed to a God or a divine King. But in reality its -chief source lay in slowly growing regulative custom.[366] The force of -law, or more technically speaking the legal sanction, lay in the power of -the tribe to uphold its realized purpose as a tribe; for the power to -maintain its solidarity and organization was the final test of its -law-upholding strength. - -Primarily the old Teutonic law looked to the tribe and its sub-units, and -scarcely regarded the special claims of an individual, or noticed -mitigating or aggravating elements in his culpability--answerability -rather. It prescribed for his peace and protection as a member of a -family, or as one included within the bands of _Sippe_ (blood -relationship); or as one of a warband or a chief's close follower, one of -his _comitatus_. On the other hand, the law was stiff, narrow, and -ungeneralized in its recognized rules. The first Latin codifications of -Teutonic law are not to be compared for breadth and elasticity of -statement to the Law of the Twelve Tables. And their substance was more -primitive.[367] - -The earliest of these first codifications was the Lex Salica, codified -under Clovis near the year 500. Unquestionably, contact with Roman -institutions suggested the idea, even as the Latin language was the -vehicle, of this code. Otherwise the Lex Salica is un-Christian and -un-Roman, although probably it was put together after Clovis's baptism. It -was not a comprehensive codification, and omitted much that was common -knowledge at the time; which now makes it somewhat enigmatical. One finds -in it lists of thefts of every sort of object that might be stolen, and of -the various injuries to the person that might be done, and the sum of -money to be paid in each case as atonement or compensation. Such schedules -did not set light store on life and property. On the contrary, they were -earnestly intended as the most available protection of elemental human -rights, and as the best method of peaceful redress. The sums awarded as -Wergeld were large, and were reckoned according to the slain man's rank. -By committing a homicide, a man might ruin himself and even his blood -relatives (_Sippe_) and of course on failure to atone might incur -servitude or death or outlawry. - -The Salic law is scarcely touched by the law of Rome. From this piece of -intact Teutonism the codes of other Teuton peoples shade off into bodies -of law partially Romanized, that is, affected by the provincialized Roman -law current in the locality where the Teutonic tribe found a home. The -codes of the Burgundians and the Visigoths in southern France are examples -of this Teutonic-Romanesque commingling. On the other hand, the Lombard -codes, though later in time, held themselves even harshly Teutonic, as -opposed to any influence from the law of the conquered Italian population, -for whom the Lombards had less regard than Burgundians and Visigoths had -for their subject provincials. Moreover, as the Frankish realm extended -its power over other Gallo-Teuton states, the various Teuton laws modified -each other and tended toward uniformity. Naturally the law of the Franks, -first the Salic and then the partly derivative Ribuarian code, exerted a -dominating influence.[368] - -These Teuton peoples regarded law as pertaining to the tribe. There was -little conscious intention on their part of forcing their laws on the -conquered. When the Visigoths established their kingdom in southern France -they had no idea of changing the law of the Gallo-Roman provincials living -within the Visigothic rule; and shortly afterwards, when the Franks -extended their power over the still Roman parts of Gaul, and then over -Alemanni, Burgundians, and Visigoths, they likewise had no thought of -forcing their laws either upon Gallo-Romans or upon the Teuton people -previously dominant within a given territory. This remained true even of -the later Frankish period, when the Carolingians conquered the Lombard -kingdom in upper Italy. - -Indeed, to all these Teutons and to the Roman provincials as well, it -seemed as a matter of course that tribal or local laws should be permitted -to endure among the peoples they belonged to. These assumptions and the -conditions of the growing Frankish Empire evoked, as it were, a more acute -mobilization of the principle that to each people belonged its law. For -provincials and Teuton peoples were mingling throughout the Frankish -realm, and the first obvious solution of the legal problems arising was to -hold that provincials and Teutons everywhere should remain amenable and -entitled to their own law, which was assumed to attend them as a personal -appurtenance. Of course this solution became intolerable as tribal blood -and delimitations were obscured, and men moved about through the -territories of one great realm. Archbishop Agobard of Lyons remarks that -one might see five men sitting together, each amenable to a different -law.[369] The escape from this legal confusion was to revert to the idea -of law and custom as applying to every one within a given territory. The -personal principle gradually gave way to this conception in the course of -the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries.[370] In the meanwhile during the -Merovingian, and more potently in the Carolingian period, king's law, as -distinguished from people's law, had been an influence making for legal -uniformity throughout that wide conglomerate empire which acknowledged the -authority of the Frankish king or emperor. The king's law might emanate -from the delegated authority, and arise from the practices, of royal -functionaries; it was most formally promulgated in Capitularies, which -with Charlemagne reach such volume and importance. Some of these royal -ordinances related to a town or district only. Others were for the realm, -and the latter not only were instances of law applying universally, but -also tended to promote, or suggest, the harmonizing of laws which they did -not modify directly. - - -III - -The Roman law always existed in the Middle Ages. Provincialized and -changed, it was interwoven in the law and custom of the land of the -_langue d'oc_ and even in the customary law of the lands where the _langue -d'oil_ was spoken. Through the same territory it existed also in the -_Breviarium_ and its epitomes. There was very little of it in England, and -scarcely a trace in the Germany east of the Rhine. In Italy it was applied -when not superseded by the Lombard codes, and was drawn from works based -on the _Codex_ and _Novels_ of Justinian. But the jurisprudential law -contained in Justinian's _Digest_ was as well forgotten in Italy as in any -land north of the Alps, where the Codification of Justinian had never been -promulgated. The extent to which the classic forms of Roman law were known -or unknown, unforgotten or forgotten, was no accident as of codices or -other writings lost accidentally. It hung upon larger conditions--whether -society had reached that stage of civilized exigency demanding the -application of an advanced commercial law, and whether there were men -capable of understanding and applying it. This need and the capacity to -understand would be closely joined.[371] - -The history of the knowledge and understanding of Roman law in the Middle -Ages might be resolved into a consideration of the sources drawn upon, and -the extent and manner of their use, from century to century. In the fifth -century, when the Theodosian Code was promulgated, law was thought of -chiefly as the mandate of a ruler. The Theodosian Code was composed of -_constitutiones principum_. Likewise the _Breviarium_, based upon it, and -other barbarian codes of Roman law, were ordained by kings; and so were -the codes of Teutonic law. For law, men looked directly to the visible -ruler. The _jus_, reasoned out by the wisdom of trained jurists, had lost -authority and interest. To be sure, a hundred years later Justinian's -Commission put together in the _Digest_ the body of jurisprudential law; -but even in Italy where his codification was promulgated, the _Digest_ -fell still-born. Never was an official compilation of less effect upon its -own time, or of such mighty import for times to come. - -The _Breviarium_ became _par excellence_ the code of Roman law for the -countries included in the present France. With its accompanying -_Interpretatio_ it was a work indicating intelligence on the part of its -compilers, whose chief care was as to arrangement and explanation. But the -time was not progressive, and a gathering mental decadence was shown by -the manner in which the _Breviarium_ was treated and used, to wit, -epitomized in many epitomes, and practically superseded by them. Here was -double evidence of decay; for the supersession of such a work by such -epitomes indicates a diminishing legal knowledge in the epitomizers, and -also a narrowing of social and commercial needs in the community, for -which the original work contained much that was no longer useful. - -There were, of course, epitomes and epitomes. Such a work as the _Epitome -Juliani_, in which a good Byzantine lawyer of Justinian's time presented -the substance of the _Novellae_, was an excellent compendium, and deserved -the fame it won. Of a lower order were the later manipulations of -Justinian's _Codex_, by which apparently the _Codex_ was superseded in -Italy. One of these was the _Summa Perusina_ of the ninth or tenth -century, a wretched work, and one of the blindest.[372] - -Justinian's _Codex_ and Julian's _Epitome_ were equipped with glosses, -some of which are as early as Justinian's time; but the greater part are -later. The glosses to Justinian's legislation resemble those of the -_Breviarium_ before referred to. That is to say, as the centuries pass -downward toward the tenth, the glosses answer to cruder needs: they become -largely translations of words, often taken from Isidore's -_Etymologiae_.[373] Indeed many of them appear to have had merely a -grammatical interest, as if the text was used as an aid in the study of -the Latin language. - -The last remark indicates a way in which a very superficial acquaintance -with the Roman law was kept up through the centuries prior to the twelfth: -it was commonly taught in the schools devoted to elementary instruction, -that is to say, to the Seven Liberal Arts. In many instances the -instructors had only such knowledge as they derived from Isidore, that -friend of every man. That is, they had no special knowledge of law, but -imparted various definitions to their pupils, just as they might teach -them the names of diseases and remedies, a list of which (and nothing -more) they would also find in Isidore. It was all just as one might have -expected. Elementary mediaeval education was encyclopaedic in its childish -way; and, in accordance with the methods and traditions of the transition -centuries, all branches of instruction were apt to be turned to grammar -and rhetoric, and made linguistic, so to speak--mere subjects for curious -definition. Thus it happened to law as well as medicine. Yet some of the -teachers may have had a practical acquaintance with legal matters, with an -understanding for legal documents and skill to draw them up. - -The assertion also is warranted that at certain centres of learning -substantial legal instruction was given; one may even speak of schools of -law. Scattered information touching all the early mediaeval periods shows -that there was no time when instruction in Roman law could not be obtained -somewhere in western Europe. To refer to France, the Roman law was very -early taught at Narbonne; at Orleans it was taught from the time of Bishop -Theodulphus, Charlemagne's contemporary, and probably the teaching of it -long continued. One may speak in the same way of Lyons; and in the -eleventh century Angers was famed for the study of law. - -Our information is less broken as to an Italy where through the early -Middle Ages more general opportunities offered for elementary education, -and where the Roman law, with Justinian's Codification as a base, made in -general the law of the land. There is no reason to suppose that it was not -taught. Contemporary allusions bear witness to the existence of a school -of law in Rome in the time of Cassiodorus and afterwards, which is -confirmed by a statement of the jurist Odofredus in the thirteenth -century. At Pavia there was a school of law in the time of Rothari, the -legislating Lombard king; this reached the zenith of its repute in the -eleventh century. Legal studies also flourished at Ravenna, and succumbed -before the rising star of the Bologna school at the beginning of the -twelfth century.[374] In these and doubtless many other cities[375] -students were instructed in legal practices and formulae, and some -substance of the Roman law was taught. Extant legal documents of various -kinds afford, especially for Italy, ample evidence of the continuous -application of the Roman law.[376] - -As for the merits and deficiencies of legal instruction in Italy and in -France, an idea may be gained from the various manuals that were prepared -either for use in the schools of law or for the practitioner. Because of -the uncertainty, however, of their age and provenance, it is difficult to -connect them with a definite _foyer_ of instruction. - -Until the opening of the twelfth century, or at all events until the last -quarter of the eleventh, the legal literature evinces scarcely any -originality or critical capacity. There are glosses, epitomes, and -collections of extracts, more or less condensed or confused from whatever -text the compiler had before him. Little jurisprudential intelligence -appears in any writings which are known to precede the close of the -eleventh century; none, for instance, in the epitomes of the _Breviarium_ -and the glosses relating to that code; none in those works of Italian -origin the material for which was drawn directly or indirectly from the -_Codex_ or _Novels_ of Justinian, for instance the _Summa Perusina_ and -the _Lex Romana canonice compta_, both of which probably belong to the -ninth century. Such compilations were put together for practical use, or -perhaps as aids to teaching. - -Thus, so far as inference may be drawn from the extant writings, the legal -teaching in any school during this long period hardly rose above an -uncritical and unenlightened explanation of Roman law somewhat -mediaevalized and deflected from its classic form and substance. There was -also practical instruction in current legal forms and customs. Interest in -the law had not risen above practical needs, nor was capacity shown for -anything above a mechanical handling of the matter. Legal study was on a -level with the other intellectual phenomena of the period. - -In an opusculum[377] written shortly after the middle of the eleventh -century, Peter Damiani bears unequivocal, if somewhat hostile, witness to -the study of law at Ravenna; and it is clear that in his time legal -studies were progressing in both France and Italy. It is unsafe to speak -more definitely, because of the difficulty in fixing the time and place of -certain rather famous pieces of legal literature, which show a marked -advance upon the productions to be ascribed with certainty to an earlier -time. The reference is to the _Petri exceptiones_ and the _Brachylogus_. -The critical questions relating to the former are too complex even to -outline here. Both its time and place are in dispute. The ascribed dates -range from the third quarter of the eleventh century to the first quarter -of the twelfth, a matter of importance, since the opening of the twelfth -century is marked by the rise of the Bologna school. As for the place, -some scholars still adhere to the south of France, while others look to -Pavia or Ravenna. On the whole, the weight of argument seems to favour -Italy and a date not far from 1075.[378] - -The _Petrus_, as it is familiarly called, is drawn from immediately prior -and still extant compilations. The compiler wished to give a compendious -if not systematic presentation of law as accepted and approved in his -time, that is to say, of Roman law somewhat mediaevalized in tone, and -with certain extraneous elements from the Lombard codes. The ultimate -Roman sources were the Codification of Justinian, and indeed all of it, -_Digest_, _Codex_, and _Novels_, the last in the form to which they had -been brought in Julian's _Epitome_. The purpose of the compilation is -given in the Prologue,[379] which in substance is as follows: - - "Since for many divers reasons, on account of the great and manifold - difficulties in the laws, even the Doctors of the laws cannot without - pains reach a certain opinion, we, taking account of both laws, to - wit, the _jus civile_ and the _jus naturale_, unfold the solution of - controversies under plain and patent heads. Whatever is found in the - laws that is useless, void, or contrary to equity, we trample under - our feet. Whatever has been added and surely held to, we set forth in - its integral meaning so that nothing may appear unjust or provocative - of appeal from thy judgments, Odilo;[380] but all may make for the - vigour of justice and the praise of God." - -The arrangement of topics in the _Petrus_ hardly evinces any clear design. -The substance, however, is well presented. If there be a question to be -solved, it is plainly stated, and the solution arrived at may be -interesting. For example, a case seems to have arisen where the son of one -who died intestate had seized the whole property to the exclusion of the -children of two deceased daughters. The sons of one daughter acquiesced. -The sons of the other _per placitum et guerram_ forced their uncle to give -up their share. Thereupon the supine cousins demanded to share in what had -so been won. The former contestants resisted on the plea that the latter -had borne no aid in the contest and that they had obtained only their own -portion. The decision was that the supine cousins might claim their -heritage from whoever held it, and should receive their share in what the -successful contestants had won; but that the latter could by -counter-actions compel them to pay their share of the necessary expenses -of the prior contest.[381] - -Sometimes the _Petrus_ seems to draw a general rule of law from the -apparent instances of its application in Justinian's Codification. Therein -certain formalities were prescribed in making a testament, in adopting a -son, or emancipating a slave. The _Petrus_ draws from them the general -principle that where the law prescribes formalities, the transaction is -not valid if they are omitted.[382] In fine, unsystematized as is the -arrangement of topics, the work presents an advance in legal intelligence -over mediaeval law-writings earlier than the middle of the eleventh -century. - -If the _Petrus_ was adapted for use in practice, the _Brachylogus_, on the -other hand, was plainly a book of elementary instruction, formed on the -model of Justinian's _Institutes_. But it made use of his entire -codification, the _Novels_, however, only as condensed in Julian's -_Epitome_. The influence of the _Breviarium_ is also noticeable; which -might lead one to think that the treatise was written in Orleans or the -neighbourhood, since the _Breviarium_ was not in use in Italy, while the -Codification of Justinian was known in France by the end of the eleventh -century. The beginning of the twelfth is the date usually given to the -_Brachylogus_. It does not belong to the Bologna school of glossators, but -rather immediately precedes them, wherever it was composed.[383] - -The _Brachylogus_, as a book of Institutes, compares favourably with its -model, from the language of which it departed at will. Both works are -divided into four _libri_; but the _libri_ of the _Brachylogus_ correspond -better to the logical divisions of the law. Again, frequently the author -of the _Brachylogus_ breaks up the chapters of Justinian's _Institutes_ -and gives the subject-matter under more pertinent headings. Sometimes the -statements of the older work are improved by rearrangement. The -definitions of the _Brachylogus_ are pithy and concise, even to a fault. -Often the exposition is well adapted to the purposes of an elementary -text-book,[384] which was meant to be supplemented by oral instruction. On -the whole, the work shows that the author is no longer encumbered by the -mass or by the advanced character of his sources. He restates their -substance intelligently, and thinks for himself. He is no compiler, and -his work has reached the rank of a treatise. - -The merits of the _Brachylogus_ as an elementary text-book are surpassed -by those of the so-called _Summa Codicis Irnerii_, a book which may mark -the beginning of the Bologna school of law, and may even be the -composition of its founder. Many arguments are adduced for this -authorship.[385] The book has otherwise been deemed a production of the -last days of the school of law at Rome just before the school was broken -up by some catastrophe as to which there is little information. In that -case the work would belong to the closing years of the eleventh century, -whereas the authorship of Irnerius would bring it to the beginning of the -twelfth. At all events, its lucid jurisprudential reasoning precludes the -likelihood of an earlier origin. - -This _Summa_ is an exposition of Roman law, following the arrangement and -titles of Justinian's _Codex_, but making extensive use of the _Digest_. -It thus contains Roman jurisprudential law, and may be regarded as a -compendious text-book for law students, forming apparently the basis of a -course of lectures which treated the topics more at length.[386] The -author's command of his material is admirable, and his presentation -masterly. Whether he was Irnerius or some one else, he was a great -teacher. His work may be also called academic, in that his standpoint is -always that of the Justinianean law, although he limits his exposition to -those topics which had living interest for the twelfth century. Private -substantial law forms the chief matter, but procedure is set forth and -penal law touched upon. The author appreciates the historical development -of the Roman law and the character of its various sources--praetorian law, -_constitutiones principum_, and _responsa prudentium_. He also shows -independence, and a regard for legal reasoning and the demands of justice. -While he sets forth the _jus civile_, his exposition and approval follow -the dictates of the _jus naturale_. - - "The established laws are to be understood benignly, so as to preserve - their spirit, and prevent their departure from equity; for the Judge - recognizes ordainments as legitimate when they conform to the - principles of justice (_ratio equitatis_).... Interpretation is - sometimes general and imperative, as when the lawgiver declares it: - then it must be applied not only to the matter for which it is - announced, but in all like cases. Sometimes an interpretation is - imperative, but only for the special case, like the interpretation - which is declared by those adjudicating a cause. It is then to be - accepted in that cause, but not in like instances; for not by - precedents, but by the laws are matters to be adjusted. There is - another kind of interpretation which binds no one, that made by - teachers explaining an ambiguous law, for although it may be - admissible because sound, still it compels no one. For every - interpretation should so be made as not to depart from justice, and - that all absurdity may be avoided and no door opened to fraud."[387] - -One must suppose that such concise statements were explained and qualified -in the author's lectures. But even as they stand, they afford an -exposition of Roman principles of interpretation. Not only under the Roman -Empire, but subsequently in mediaeval times, the Roman lawyer or the -canonist did not pay the deference to adjudicated precedent which is felt -by the English or American judge. The passage in the _Codex_ which -"Irnerius" was expounding commands that the judge, in deciding a case, -shall follow the laws and the reasoning of the great jurists, rather than -the decision of a like controversy. - -Since the author of this _Summa_ weighs the justice, the reason, and the -convenience of the laws, and compares them with each other, his book is a -work of jurisprudence. Its qualities may be observed in its discussion of -_possession_ and the rights arising therefrom. The writer has just been -expounding the _usucapio_, an institution of the _jus civile_ strictly -speaking, whereby the law of Rome in certain instances protected and, -after three years, perfected, the title to property which one had in good -faith acquired from a vendor who was not the owner: - - "Now we must discuss the _ratio possessionis_. _Usucapio_ in the _jus - civile_ hinges on possession, and ownership by the _jus naturale_ may - take its origin in possession. There are many differences in the ways - of acquiring possession, which must be considered. And since in the - _constitutiones_ and _responsa prudentium_ divers reasons are adduced - regarding possession, my associates have begged that I would expound - this important and obscure subject in which is mingled the _ratio_ - both of the civil and the natural law. So I will do my best. First one - must consider what possession is, how it is acquired, maintained, or - lost. Possession (here the author follows Paulus and Labeo in the - _Digest_) is as when one's feet are set upon a thing, when body - naturally rests on body. To acquire possession is to begin to possess. - Herein one considers both the fact and the right. The fact arises - through ourselves or our representative. It is understood differently - as to movables and as to land; for the movable we take in our hand, - but we take possession of a farm by going upon it with this intent and - laying hold of a sod. The intent to possess is crucial. Thus a ring - put in the hand of a sleeper is not possessed for lack of intent on - his part. You possess naturally when with mind and body (yours or - another's who represents you) you hold or sit upon with intent to - possess. Corporeal things you properly possess, and acquire possession - of, by your own or your agent's hand. In the same manner you retain. - Incorporeal things cannot be possessed properly speaking, but the - civil law accords a quasi possession of them." - -Then follows a discussion of the persons through whom another may have -possession, and of the various modes of possessing _longa manu_ without -actual touch: - - "It is one thing when the possession begins with you, and another when - it is transferred to you by a prior possessor: for possession begins - in three ways, by occupation, accession, and transfer. You occupy the - thing that belongs to no one. By accession you acquire possession in - two ways. Thus the increment may be possessed, as the fruit of thy - handmaid; or the accession consists in the union with a larger thing - which is yours, as when alluvium is deposited on your land. Again - possession is transferred to you," - -voluntarily or otherwise. He now discusses the various modes in which -possession is acquired by transfer, then the nature of the _justa_ or -_injusta causa_ with which possession may begin, and the effect on the -rights of the possessor, and then some matters more peculiar to the time -of Justinian. After which he passes to the loss of possession, and -concludes with saying that he has endeavoured to go over the whole -subject, and whatever is omitted or insufficiently treated, he begs that -it be laid to the fault of _humanae imbecillitatis_. The discussion reads -like a carefully drawn outline which his lecture should expand.[388] - -The knowledge and understanding of the Roman law in the mediaeval -centuries should be viewed in conjunction with the general progress of -intellectual aptitude during the same periods. The growth of legal -knowledge will then show itself as a part of mediaeval development, as one -phase of the flowering of the mediaeval intellect. For the treatment of -Roman law presents stages essentially analogous to those by which the -Middle Ages reached their understanding and appropriation of other -portions of their great inheritance from classical antiquity and the -Christianity of the Fathers. Let us recapitulate: the Roman law, adapted, -or corrupted if one will, epitomized and known chiefly in its later -enacted forms, was never unapplied nor the study of it quite abandoned. It -constituted a great part of the law of Italy and southern France; in these -two regions likewise was its study least neglected. We have observed the -superficial and mainly linguistic nature of the glosses which this early -mediaeval period interlined or wrote on the margins of the source-books -drawn upon, also the rude and barbarous nature of the earlier summaries -and compilations. They were helps to a crude practical knowledge of the -law. Gradually the treatment seems to become more intelligent, a little -nearer the level of the matter excerpted or made use of. Through the -eleventh century it is evident that social conditions were demanding and -also facilitating an increase in legal knowledge; and at that century's -close a by no means stupid compilation appears, the _Petri exceptiones_, -and perhaps such a fairly intelligent manual for elementary instruction -as the _Brachylogus_. These works indicate that the instruction in the law -was improving. We have also the sparse references to schools of law, at -Rome, at Ravenna, at Orleans. Then we come upon the _Summa Codicis_ called -of Irnerius, of uncertain _provenance_, like the _Petrus_ and -_Brachylogus_. But there is no need to be informed specifically of its -place and date in order to recognize its advance in legal intelligence, in -veritable jurisprudence. The writer was a master of the law, an adept in -its exposition, and his oral teaching must have been of a high order. With -this book we have unquestionably touched the level of the strong -beginnings of the greatest of mediaeval schools of Roman law. - -Its seat was Bologna, one of the chief centres of the civic and commercial -life of Lombardy. The Lombards themselves had shown a persistent legal -genius: their own Teutonic codes, enacted in Italy, had maintained -themselves in that land of Roman law and custom. Lombard codification had -almost reached a jurisprudence of its own, at Pavia, the juridical centre -of Lombardy. The provisions of various codes had been compared and put -together in a sort of _Concordia_, as early as the ninth century.[389] -Possibly the rivalry of Lombard law might stimulate those learned in the -law of Rome to sharper efforts to expound it and prove its superiority. -Moreover, all sides of civic life and culture were flourishing in that -region where novel commercial relations were calling for a corresponding -progress in the law, and especially for a better knowledge of the Roman -law which alone afforded provision for their regulation. - -As some long course of human development approaches its climax, the -advance apparently becomes so rapid as to give the impression of something -suddenly happening, a sudden leap upward of the human spirit. The velocity -of the movement seems to quicken as the summit is neared. One easily finds -examples, for instance the fifth century before Christ in Greek art, or -the fourth century in Greek philosophy, or again the excellence so quickly -reached apparently by the Middle High German poetry just about the year -1200. But may not the seeming suddenness of the phenomenon be due to lack -of information as to antecedents? and the flare of the final achievement -even darken what went before? Yet, in fact, as a movement nears its -climax, it may become more rapid. For, as the promoting energies and -favouring conditions meet in conjunction, their joint action becomes more -effective. Forces free themselves from cumbrances and draw aid from one -another. Thus when the gradual growth of intellectual faculty effects a -conjunction with circumstances which offer a fair field, and the prizes of -life as a reward, a rapid increase of power may evince itself in novel and -timely productivity. - -This may suggest the manner of the apparently sudden rise of the Bologna -school of Roman law, which, be it noted, took place but a little before -the time of Gratian's achievement in the Canon law, itself contemporaneous -with the appearance of Peter Lombard's novel _Books of Sentences_.[390] -The preparation, although obscure, existed; and the school after its -commencement passed onward through stages of development, to its best -accomplishment, and then into a condition of stasis, if not decline. -Irnerius apparently was its first master; and of his life little is known. -He was a native of Bologna. His name as _causidicus_ is attached to a -State paper of the year 1113. Thereafter he appears in the service of the -German emperor Henry V. We have no sure trace of him after 1118, though -there is no reason to suppose that he did not live and labour for some -further years. He had taught the Arts at Ravenna and Bologna before -teaching, or perhaps seriously studying, the law. But his career as a -teacher of the law doubtless began before the year 1113, when he is first -met with as a man of affairs. Accounts agree in ascribing to him the -foundation of the school. - -Unless the _Summa Codicis_ already mentioned, and a book of _Quaestiones_, -be really his, his glosses upon Justinian's _Digest_, _Codex_, and -_Novels_, are all we have of him;[391] of the rest we know by report. The -glosses themselves indicate that this jurist had been a grammarian, and -used the learning of his former profession in his exposition of the law. -His interlinear glosses are explanations of words, and would seem to -represent his earlier, more tentative, work when he was himself learning -the meaning of the law. But the marginal glosses are short expositions of -the passages to which they are attached, and perhaps belong to the time of -his fuller command over the legal material. They indicate, besides, a -critical consideration of the text, and even of the original connection -which the passage in the _Digest_ held in the work of the jurisconsult -from which it had been taken. Some of them show an understanding of the -chronological sequence of the sources of the Roman law, _e.g._ that the -law-making power had existed in the people and then passed to the -emperors. These glosses of Irnerius represent a clear advance in -jurisprudence over any previous legal comment subsequent to the -_Interpretatio_ attached to the _Breviarium_. It was also part of his plan -to equip his manuscripts of the _Codex_ with extracts taken from the text -of the _Novels_, and not from the _Epitome of Julian_. He appears also as -a lawyer versed in the practice of the law. For he wrote a book of forms -for notaries and a treatise on procedure, neither of which is extant.[392] - -The accomplishment of the Bologna school may be judged more fully from the -works, still extant, of some of its chief representatives in the -generations following Irnerius. A worthy one was Placentinus, a native of -Piacenza. The year of his birth is unknown, but he died in 1192, after a -presumably full span of life, passed chiefly as a student and teacher of -the law. He taught in Mantua and Montpellier, as well as in Bologna. He -was an accomplished jurist and a lover of the classic literature. His work -entitled _De varietate actionum_ was apparently the first attempt to set -forth the Roman law in an arrangement and form that did not follow the -sources.[393] He opens his treatise with an allegory of a noble dame, -hight Jurisprudentia, within the circle of whose sweet and honied -utterances many eager youths were thronging. Placentinus drew near, and -received from her the book which he now gives to others.[394] This little -allegory savours of the _De consolatione_ of Boethius, or, if one will, of -Capella's _De nuptiis Philologiae_. - -The most admirable surviving work of Placentinus is his Summa of the -_Codex_ of Justinian. His autobiographical _proemium_ shows him not -lacking in self-esteem, and tells why he undertook the work. He had -thought at first to complete the Summa of Rogerius, an older glossator, -but then decided to put that book to sleep, and compose a full Summa of -the _Codex_ himself, from the beginning to the end. This by the favour of -God he has done; it is the work of his own hands, from head to heel, and -all the matter is his own--not borrowed. Next he wrote for beginners a -Summa of the _Institutes_. After which he returned to his own town, and -shortly proceeded thence to Bologna, whither he had been called. "There in -the citadel (_in castello_) for two years I expounded the laws to -students; I brought the other teachers to the threshold of envy; I emptied -their benches of students. The hidden places of the law I laid open, I -reconciled the conflicts of enactments, I unlocked the secrets most -potently." His success was great, and he was besought to continue his -course of lectures. He complied, and remained two years more, and then -returned to Montpellier, in order to compose a Summa of the _Digest_.[395] -If indeed Placentinus speaks bombastically of his work, its excellence -excuses him. His well-earned reputation as a jurist and scholar long -endured. - -_Quaestiones_, _Distinctiones_, _Libri disputationum_, _Summae_ of the -_Codex_ or the _Institutions_, and other legal writings, are extant in -goodly bulk and number from the Bologna school. The names of the men are -almost legion, and many were of great repute in their day both as jurists -and as men of affairs. We may mention Azo and Accursius, of a little -later time. Azo's name appears in public documents from the year 1190 to -1220--and he may have survived the latter date by some years. His works -were of such compass and excellence as to supersede those of his -predecessors. His glosses still survive, and his _Lectura_ on the _Codex_, -his _Summae_ of the _Codex_ and the _Institutes_, and his _Quaestiones_, -and _Brocarda_, the last a sort of work stating general legal propositions -and those contradicting them. Azo's glosses were so complete as to -constitute a continuous exposition of the entire legislation of Justinian. -His _Summae_ of the _Codex_ and _Institutes_ drove those of Placentinus -out of use, which we note with a smile.[396] - -None of the glossators is better known than Accursius. He comes before us -as a Florentine, and apparently a peasant's son. He died an old man rich -and famous, about the year 1260. Azo was his teacher. In 1252 he was -Podesta of Bologna, which indicates the respect in which men held him. -Villani, the Florentine historian, describes him as of martial form, -grave, thoughtful, even melancholy in aspect, as if always meditating; a -man of brilliant talents and extraordinary memory, sober and chaste in -life, but delighting in noble vesture. His hearers drank in the laws of -living from his mien and manners no less than from the dissertations of -his mouth.[397] Late in life he retired to his villa, and there in quiet -worked on his great _Glossa_ till he died. - -This famous, perhaps all too famous, _Glossa ordinaria_ was a digest and, -as it proved, a final one, of the glosses of his predecessors and -contemporaries. He drew not only from their glosses, but also on their -_Summae_ and other writings. He added a good deal of his own. Great as was -the feat, the somewhat deadened talent of a compiler shows in the result, -which flattened out the individual labours of so many jurists. It came at -once into general use in the courts and outside of them; for it was a -complete commentary on the Justinianean law, so compendious and convenient -that there was no further need of the glosses of earlier men. This book -marked the turning-point of the Bologna school, after which its -productivity lessened. Its work was done: _Codex_, _Novels_, and above -all the _Pandects_ were rescued from oblivion, and fully expounded, so far -as the matter in them was still of interest. When the labours of the -school had been conveniently heaped together in one huge _Glossa_, there -was no vital inducement to do this work again. The school of the -glossators was _functus officio_. Naturally with the lessening of the -call, productivity diminished. Little was left to do save to gloss the -glosses, an epigonic labour which would not attract men of talent. -Moreover, treating the older glosses, instead of the original text, as the -matter to be interpreted was unfavourable to progress in the understanding -of the latter. - -Yet, for a little, the breath of life was still to stir in the school of -the glossators. There was a man of fame, a humanist indeed, named Cino, -whose beautiful tomb still draws the lover of things lovely to Pistoia. -Cino was also a jurist, and it came to him to be the teacher of one whose -name is second to none among the legists of the Middle Ages. This was -Bartolus, born probably in the year 1314 at Sassoferrato in the duchy of -Urbino. He was a scholar, learned in geometry and Hebrew, also a man of -affairs. He taught the law at Pisa and Perugia, and in the last-named town -he died in 1357, not yet forty-four years old. Bartolus wrote and compiled -full commentaries on the entire _Corpus juris civilis_; and yet he -produced no work differing in kind from works of his predecessors. -Moreover, between him and the body of the law rose the great mass of gloss -and comment already in existence, through which he did not always -penetrate to the veritable _Corpus_. Yet his labours were inspired with -the energy of a vigorous nature, and he put fresh thoughts into his -commentaries.[398] - -The school of glossators presented the full Roman law to Europe. The -careful and critical interpretation of the text of Justinian's -Codification, of the _Digest_ above all, was their great service. In -performing it, these jurists also had educated themselves and developed -their own intelligence. They had also put together in Summae the results -of their own education in the law. These works facilitated legal study and -sharpened the faculties of students and professors. Books of Quaestiones, -legal disputations, works upon legal process and formulae, served the same -ends.[399] These men were deficient in historical knowledge. Yet they -compared _Digest_, _Codex_, and _Novels_; they tried to re-establish the -purity of the text; they weighed and they expounded. Theirs was an -intellectual effort to master the jurisprudence of Rome: their labours -constituted a renaissance of jurisprudence; and the fact that they were -often men of affairs as well as professors, kept them from ignoring the -practical bearings of the matters which they taught. - -The work of the glossators may be compared with that of the theologian -philosophers of the thirteenth century--Alexander of Hales, Albertus -Magnus, Thomas Aquinas--who were winning for the world a new and -comprehensive knowledge of Aristotle. Both jurists and philosophers, in -their different spheres, carried through a more profound study, and -reached a more comprehensive knowledge, of a great store of antique -thought, than previous mediaeval centuries conceived of. Moreover, the -interpretation of the _Corpus juris_ was quite as successful as the -interpretation of Aristotle. It was in fact surer, because freer from the -deflections of religious motive. No consideration of agreement or -disagreement with Scripture troubled the glossators' interpretation of the -_Digest_, though indeed they may have been interested in finding support -for whatever political views they held upon the claims of emperor and -pope. But this did not disturb them as much as Aristotle's opinion that -the universe was eternal, worried Albertus and Aquinas. - - -IV - -The Church, from the time of its first recognition by the Roman Empire, -lived under the Roman law;[400] and the constitutions safeguarding its -authority were large and ample before the Empire fell. Constantine, to be -sure, never dreamed of the famous "Donation of Constantine" forged by a -later time, yet his enactments fairly launched the great mediaeval -Catholic Church upon the career which was to bring it more domination than -was granted in this pseudo-charter of its power. A number of Constantine's -enactments were preserved by the Theodosian Code, in which the powers and -privileges of Church and clergy were portentously set forth. - -The Theodosian Code freed the property of the Church from most fiscal -burdens, and the clergy from taxes, from public and military service, and -from many other obligations which sometimes the Code groups under the head -of _sordida munera_. The Church might receive all manner of bequests, and -it inherited the property of such of its clergy as did not leave near -relatives surviving them. Its property generally was inalienable; and the -clergy were accorded many special safeguards. Slaves might be manumitted -in a church. The church edifices were declared asylums of refuge from -pursuers, a privilege which had passed to the churches from the heathen -fanes and the statues of the emperors. Constitution after constitution was -hurled against the Church's enemies. The Theodosian Code has one chapter -containing sixty-six constitutions directed against heretics, the combined -result of which was to deprive them, if not of life and property, at least -of protected legal existence. - -Of enormous import was the sweeping recognition on the Empire's part of -the validity of episcopal jurisdiction. No bishop might be summoned before -a secular court as a defendant, or compelled to give testimony. Falsely to -accuse one of the clergy rendered the accuser infamous. All matters -pertaining to religion and church discipline might be brought only before -the bishop's court, which likewise had plenary jurisdiction over -controversies among the clergy. It was also open to the laity for the -settlement of civil disputes. The command not to go to law before the -heathen came down from Paul (1 Cor. vi.), and together with the severed -and persecuted condition of the early Christian communities, may be -regarded as the far source of the episcopal jurisdiction, which thus -divinely sanctioned tended to extend its arbitrament to all manner of -legal controversies.[401] To be sure, under the Christian Roman Empire -the authority of the Church as well as its privileges rested upon imperial -law. Yet the emperors recognized, rather than actually created, the -ecclesiastical authority. And when the Empire was shattered, there stood -the Church erect amid the downfall of the imperial government, and capable -of supporting itself in the new Teutonic kingdoms. - -The constitutions of Christian emperors did not from their own force and -validity become Ecclesiastical or Canon law--the law relating to -Christians as such, and especially to the Church and its functions. The -source of that law was God; the Church was its declarative organ. -Acceptance on the Church's part was requisite before any secular law could -become a law of the Church. - -Canon law may be taken to include theology, or may be limited to the law -of the organization and functions of the Church taken in a large sense as -inclusive of the laity in their relations to the religion of Christ.[402] -Obviously part comes from Christ directly, through the Old Testament as -well as New. The other part, and in bulk far greater, emanates from His -foundation, the Church, under the guidance of His Spirit, and may be added -to and modified by the Church from age to age. It is expressed in custom, -universal and established, and it is found in written form in the works of -the Fathers, in the decrees of Councils, in the decretals of the popes, -and in the concordats and conventions with secular sovereignties. From the -beginning, canon law tacitly or expressly adopted the constitutions of the -Christian emperors relating to the Church, as well as the Roman law -generally, under which the Church lived in its civil relations. - -The Church arose within the Roman Empire, and who shall say that its -wonderfully efficient and complete organization at the close of the -patristic period was not the final creation of the legal and constructive -genius of Rome, newly inspired by the spirit of Christianity? But the -centre of interest had been transferred from earth to heaven, and human -aims had been recast by the Gospel and the understanding of it reached by -Christian doctors. Evidently since the ideals of the Church were to be -other than those of the Roman Empire, the law which it accepted or evolved -would have ideals different from those of the Roman law. If the great -Roman jurists created a legal formulation and rendering of justice -adequate for the highly developed social and commercial needs of Roman -citizens, the law of the Church, while it might borrow phrases, rules, and -even general principles, from that system, could not fail to put new -meaning in them. For example, the constant will to render each his due, -which was _justitia_ in the Roman law, might involve different -considerations where the soul's salvation, and not the just allotment of -the goods of this world, was the law's chief aim. Again, what new meaning -might attach to the _honeste vivere_ and the _alterum non laedere_ of -pagan legal ethics. _Honeste vivere_ might mean to do no sin imperilling -the soul; _alterum non laedere_ would acquire the meaning of doing nothing -to another which might impede his progress toward salvation. Injuries to a -man in his temporalities were less important. - -Further, Christianity although conceived as a religion for all mankind, -was founded on a definite code and revelation. The primary statement was -contained in the canonical books of the Old and New Testaments. These were -for all men, universal in application and of irrefragable validity and -truth. Here was some correspondence to the conception of the _jus gentium_ -as representative of universal principles of justice and expediency, and -therefore as equivalent to the _jus naturale_. There was something of -logical necessity in the transference of this conception to the law of -Christ. Says Gratian at the beginning of his _Decretum_: "It is _jus -naturae_ which is contained in the Law and the Gospel, by which every one -is commanded to do to another as he would be done by, and forbidden to -inflict on him what he does not wish to happen to himself." Since the Law -and the Gospel represent the final law of life for all men, they are _par -excellence_ the _jus naturae_, as well as _lex divina_. Gratian quotes -from Augustine: "Divinum jus in scripturis divinis habemus, humanum in -legibus regum."[403] And then adds: "By its authority the _jus naturale_ -prevails over custom and constitution. Whatever in customs or writings is -contrary to the _jus naturale_ is to be held vain and invalid." Again he -says more explicitly: "Since therefore nothing is commanded by natural law -other than what God wills to be, and nothing is forbidden except what God -prohibits, and since nothing may be found in the canonical Scripture -except what is in the divine laws, the laws will rest divinely in nature -(_divine leges natura consistent_). It is evident, that whatever is proved -to be contrary to the divine will or canonical Scripture, is likewise -opposed to natural law. Wherefore whatever should give way before divine -will or Scripture or the divine laws, over that ought the _jus naturale_ -to prevail. Therefore whatever ecclesiastical or secular constitutions are -contrary to natural law are to be shut out."[404] - -The canon law is a vast sea. Its growth, its age-long agglomerate -accretion, the systematization of its huge contents, have long been -subjects for controversialists and scholars. Its sources were as -multifarious as those of the Roman law. First the Scriptures and the early -quasi-apostolic and pseudo-apostolic writings; then the traditions of -primitive Christianity and also the writings of the Fathers; likewise -ecclesiastical customs, long accepted and legitimate, and finally the two -great written sources, the decretals or decisions of the popes and the -decrees of councils. From patristic times collections were made of the -last. These collections from a chronological gradually acquired a topical -and more systemic arrangement, which the compilers followed more -completely after the opening of the tenth century. The decisions of the -popes also had been collected, and then were joined to conciliar -compilations and arranged after the same topical plan. - -In all of them there was unauthentic matter, accepted as if its -pseudo-authorship or pseudo-source were genuine. But in the stormy times -of the ninth century following the death of Charlemagne, the method of -argument through forged authority was exceptionally creative. It produced -two masterpieces which won universal acceptance. The first was a -collection of false Capitularies ascribed to Charlemagne and Louis the -Pious, and ostensibly the work of a certain Benedictus Levita, deacon of -the Church of Mainz, who worked in the middle of the century. Far more -famous and important was the book of _False Decretals_, put together and -largely written, that is forged, about the same time, probably in the -diocese of Rheims, and appearing as the work of Saint Isidore of Seville. -This contained many forged letters of the early popes and other forged -matter, including the Epistle or "Donation" of Constantine; also genuine -papal letters and conciliar decrees. These false collections were accepted -by councils and popes, and formed part of subsequent compilations. - -From the tenth century onward many such compilations were made, all of -them uncritical as to the genuineness of the matter taken, and frequently -ill-arranged and discordant. They were destined to be superseded by the -great work in which appears the better methods and more highly trained -intelligence developing at the Bologna School in the first part of the -twelfth century. Its author was Gratianus, a monk of the monastery of St. -Felix at Bologna. He was a younger contemporary of Irnerius and of Peter -Lombard. Legend made him the latter's brother, with some propriety; for -the compiler of those epoch-making _Sentences_ represents the same stage -in the appropriation of the patristic theological heritage of the Middle -Ages, that Gratian represents in the handling of the canon law. The -Lombard's _Sentences_ made a systematic and even harmonizing presentation -of the theology of the Fathers in their own language; and the equally -immortal _Decretum_ of Gratian accomplished a like work for the canon law. -This is the name by which his work is known, but not the name he gave it. -That appears to have been _Concordia discordantium canonum_, which -indicates his methodical presentation of his matter and his endeavour to -reconcile conflicting propositions. - -The first part of the _Decretum_ was entitled "De jure naturae et -constitutionis." It presents the sources of the law, the Church's -organization and administration, the ordination and ranking of the clergy, -the election and consecration of bishops, the authority of legates and -primates. The second part treats of the procedure of ecclesiastical -courts, also the law regulating the property of the Church, the law of -monks and the contract of marriage. The third part is devoted to the -Sacraments and the Liturgy. - -Gratian's usual method is as follows: He will open with an authoritative -proposition. If he finds it universally accepted, it stands as valid. But -if there are opposing statements, he tries to reconcile them, either -pointing out the difference in date (for the law of the Church may be -progressive), or showing that one of the discordant rules had but local or -otherwise limited application, or that the first proposition is the rule, -while the others make the exceptions. If he still fails to establish -concord, he searches to find which rule had been followed in the Roman -Church, and accepts that as authoritative. A rule being thus made certain, -he proceeds with subdivisions and distinctions, treating them as -deductions from the main rule and adjusting the supporting texts. Or he -will suppose a controversy (_causa_) and discuss its main and secondary -issues. Throughout he accompanies his authoritative matter with his own -commentary--commonly cited as the _Dicta Gratiani_.[405] The _Decretum_ -was characterized by sagacity of interpretation and reconcilement, by vast -learning, and clear ordering of the matter. Only it was uncritical as to -the genuineness of its materials; and a number of Gratian's own statements -were subsequently disapproved in papal decretals. The _Dicta Gratiani_ -never received such formal sanction by pope or council as the writings of -Roman jurists received by being taken into Justinian's _Digest_. - -The papal decretals had become the great source of canonical law. -Gratian's work was soon supplemented by various compilations known as -_Appendices ad Decretum_ or _Decretales extravagantes_, to wit, those -which the _Decretum_ did not contain. These, however, were superseded by -the collection, or rather codification, made at the command of the great -canonist Gregory IX. and completed in the year 1234. This authoritative -work preserved Gratian's _Decretum_ intact, but suppressed, or abridged -and reordered, the decretals contained in subsequent collections. Arranged -in five books, it forms the second part of the _Corpus juris canonici_. In -1298 Boniface VIII. promulgated a supplementary book known as the _Sextus_ -of Boniface. This with a new collection promulgated under the authority of -Clement V. in 1313, called the _Clementinae_, and the _Extravagantes_ of -his successor John XXII. and certain other popes, constitute the last -portions of the _Corpus juris canonici_.[406] - -According to the law of the Empire the emperor's authority extended over -the Church, its doctrine, its discipline, and its property. Such authority -was exercised by the emperors from Constantine to Justinian. But the -Church had always stood upon the principle that it was better to obey God -rather than man. This had been maintained against the power of the pagan -Empire, and was not to be sunned out of existence by imperial favour. It -was still better to obey God rather than the emperor. The Church still -should say who were its members and entitled to participate in the -salvation which it mediated. Ecclesiastical authorities could -excommunicate; that was their engine of coercion. These principles were -incarnate in Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, withstanding and prohibiting -Theodosius from Christian fellowship until he had done penance for the -massacre at Thessalonica. Of necessity they inhered in the Church; they -were of the essence of its strength to fulfil its purpose; they stood for -the duly constituted power of Christian resolution to uphold and advance -the peremptory truth of Christ. - -So such principles persisted through the time of the hostile and then the -favouring Roman Empire. And when the Empire in fact crumbled and fell, -what _de facto_ and _de jure_ authority was best fitted to take the place -of the imperial supremacy? The Empire represented a universal secular -dominion; the Church was also universal, and with a universality now -reaching out beyond the Empire's shrinking boundaries. In the midst of -political fragments otherwise disjoined, the Church endured as the -universal unity. The power of each Teutonic king was great in fact and law -within his realm. Yet he was but a local potency, while the Church existed -through his and other realms. And when the power of one Teutonic line (the -Carolingian) reached something like universal sway, the Church was also -there within and without. It held the learning of the time, and the -culture which large-minded seculars respected; and quite as much as the -empire of Charlemagne, it held the prestige of Rome. Witness the attitude -of Charles Martel and Pippin toward Boniface the great apostle, and the -attitude of Boniface toward the Gregories whose legate he proclaimed -himself, and upon whose central authority he based his claims to be -obeyed. Through the reforms of the Frankish Church, carried out by him -with the support of Charles Martel and Pippin, the ecclesiastical -supremacy of Rome was established. Charlemagne, indeed, from the nature -and necessities of his own transcendent power, possessed in fact the -ecclesiastical authority of the Roman emperors, whom men deemed his -predecessors. But after him the secular power fell again into fragments -scarcely locally efficient, while the Church's universality of authority -endured. - -In the unstable fragmentation of secular rule in the ninth century, the -Isidorean _Decretals_ presented the truth of the situation as it was to -be, although not as it had been in the times of the Church dignitaries -whose names were forged for that collection. And thereafter, as the Church -recovered from its tenth-century disintegration, it advanced to the -pragmatic demonstration of the validity of those false _Decretals_, on -through the tempests of the age of Hildebrand to the final triumph of -Innocent III. at the opening of the thirteenth century. Evidently the -canon law, whatever might be its immediate or remote source, drew its -authority from the sanction of the Roman Catholic Church, which enunciated -it and made it into a body corresponding to the Church's functions. It was -what the Church promulgated as the law of the ecclesiastical hierarchy and -the kingdom of God on earth. It should be the temporal and legal -counterpart of the Church's spiritual purposes. Its general tendency and -purpose was the promotion of the Church's saving aim, which regarded all -things in the light of their relationship to life eternal. Therefore the -Church's law could not but define and consider all worldly interests, all -personal and property rights and secular authority, with constant regard -to men's need of salvation. The advancement of that must be the final -appellate standard of legal right. - -Such was the event. The entire canon law might be lodged within those -propositions which Hildebrand enunciated and Innocent III. realized. For -the salvation of souls, all authority on earth had been entrusted by -Christ to Peter and his successors. Theirs was the spiritual sword; -secular power, the sword material, was to be exercised under the pope's -mandate and permission. No king or emperor, no layman whatsoever, was -exempt from the supreme authority of the pope, who also was the absolute -head of the Church, which had become a monarchy. "The Lord entrusted to -Peter not only the universal Church, but the government of the whole -world," writes Innocent III., whose pontificate almost made this principle -a fact. In private matters no member of the clergy could be brought before -a secular court; and the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts over -the laity threatened to reduce the secular jurisdiction to narrow -functions.[407] The property of the Church might not be taxed or levied on -by any temporal ruler or government; nor could the Church's functions and -authority be controlled or limited by any secular decree. Universally -throughout every kingdom the Church was a sovereignty, not only in matters -spiritual, but with respect to all the personal and material -relationships that might be connected in any way with the welfare of -souls.[408] - - -V - -The exposition of the _Corpus juris civilis_ in the school of the -glossators was of great moment in the evolution of _mediaeval political -theory_, which in its turn yields one more example of the mediaeval -application of thoughts derived from antique and patristic sources. -Political thinking in the Middle Ages sought its surest foundation in -theology; then it built itself up with concepts drawn from the philosophy -and social theory of the antique world; and lastly it laid hold on -jurisprudence, using the substance and reasoning of the Roman and the -Canon law. - -Mediaeval ideas upon government and the relations between the individual -and his earthly sovereign, started from theological premises, of patristic -origin: _e.g._ that the universe and man were made by God, a miraculous -creation, springing from no other cause, and subject to no other -fundamental law, than God's unsearchable will, which never ceases to -direct the whole creation to the Creator's ends. A further premise was the -Scriptural revelation of God's purpose as to man, with all the contents of -that revelation touching the overweening importance of man's deathless -soul. - -Unity--the unity of the creation--springs from these premises, or is one -of them. The principle of this unity is God's will. Within the universal -whole, mankind also constitutes a unit, a community, specially ordained -and ordered. The Middle Ages, following the example of the patristic time, -were delivered over to allegory, and to an unbridled recognition of the -deductions of allegorical reasoning. Mankind was a community. Mankind was -also an organism, the mystical body whereof the head was Christ. Here was -an allegory potent for foolishness or wisdom. It was used to symbolize -the mystery of the oneness of all mankind in God, and the organic -co-ordination of all sorts and conditions of men with one another in the -divine commonwealth on earth; it was also drawn out into every detail of -banal anthropomorphic comparison. From John of Salisbury to Nicholas -Cusanus, Occam and Dante, no point of fancied analogy between the parts -and members of the body and the various functions of Church and State was -left unexploited.[409] - -Mankind then is one community; also an organism. But within the human -organism abides the duality of soul and body; and the Community of Mankind -on earth is constituted of two orders, the spiritual and temporal, Church -and State.[410] There must be either co-ordination between State and -Church, body and soul, or subordination of the temporal and material to -the eternal and spiritual. To evoke an adjustment of what was felt to be -an actually universal opposition, was the chief problem of mediaeval -polity, and forms the warp and woof of conflicting theories. The Church -asserted a full spiritual supremacy even in things temporal, and, to -support the claim, brought sound arguments as well as foolish -allegory--allegory pretending to be horror-stricken at the vision of an -animal with two heads, a bicephalic monstrosity. But does not the Church -comprise all mankind? Did not God found it? Is not Christ its head, and -under Him his vicegerent Peter and all the popes? Then shall not the pope -who commands the greater, which is the spiritual, much more command the -less, the temporal? And all the argumentation of the two swords, delivered -to Peter, comes into play. That there are two swords is but a propriety of -administration. Secular rulers wield the secular sword at the pope's -command. They are instruments of the Church. Fundamentally the State is -an ecclesiastical institution, and the bounds of secular law are set by -the law spiritual: the canon law overrides the laws of every State. True, -in this division, the State also is ordained of God, but only as -subordinate. And divinely ordained though it be, the origin of the State -lies in sin; for sin alone made government and law needful for man.[411] - -On the other hand, the partisans of the State upheld co-ordination as the -true principle.[412] The two swords represent distinct powers, Sacerdotium -and Imperium. The latter as well as the former is from God; and the two -are co-ordinates, although of course the Church which wields the spiritual -sword is the higher. This theory creates no bicephalic monster. God is the -universal head. And even as man is body as well as soul, the human -community is State as well as Church; and the State needs the emperor for -its head, as the Church has the pope. The Roman Dominion, _imperium -mundi_, was legitimate, and by divine appointment has passed over to the -Roman-German emperor. Other views sustaining the scheme of co-ordination -upheld a plurality of states, rather than one universal Imperium. Of -course these opposing views of subordination or co-ordination of State and -Church took on every shade of diversity. - -As to both Church and State, mediaeval political theory was predominantly -monarchical. Ideally this flowed from the thought of God as the true -monarch of the universe. Practically it comported with mediaeval social -conditions. Under Innocent III., if not under Gregory VII., the Church had -become a monarchy well-nigh absolute.[413] The pope's power continued -plenary until the great schism and the age of councils evoked by it. For -the secular state, the common voice likewise favoured monarchy. The unity -of the social organism is best effected by the singleness of its head. -Thomas Aquinas authoritatively reasons thus, and Dante maintains that as -the unifying principle is Will, the will of one man is the best means to -realize it.[414] But monarchy is no absolute right existing for the -ruler's benefit, rather it is an office to be righteously exercised for -the good of the community. The monarch's power is limited, and if his -command outrages law or right, it is a nullity; his subjects need not -obey, and the principle applies, that it is better to obey God than man. -Even when, as in the days of the Hohenstaufen, the civil jurists claimed -for the emperor the _plenitudo potestatis_ of a Roman Caesar, the opposite -doctrine held strong, which gave him only a limited power, in its nature -conditioned on its rightful exercise. - -Moreover, rights of the community were not unrecognized, and indeed were -supported by elaborate theories as the Middle Ages advanced to their -climacteric. The thought of a contract between ruler and people frequently -appears, and reference to the contract made at Hebron between David and -the people of Israel (2 Sam. v. 3). The civil jurist also looked back to -the principle of the _jus gentium_ giving to every free people the right -to choose a ruler; also to that famous text of the _Digest_, where, -through the _lex regia_, the people were said to have conferred their -powers upon the princeps.[415] With such thoughts of the people's rights -came theories of representation and of the monarch as the people's -representative; and Roman corporation law supplied the rules for mediaeval -representative assemblies, lay and clerical.[416] - -The old Germanic state was a conglomerate of positive law and specific -custom, having no existence beyond the laws, which were its formative -constituents. Such a conception did not satisfy mediaeval publicists, -imbued with antique views of the State's further aims and potency. Nor -were all men satisfied with the State's divinely ordered origin in human -sinfulness. An ultimate ground for its existence was sought, commensurate -with its broadest aims. Such was found, not in positive, but in natural -law--again an antique conception. That a veritable natural law existed, -all men agreed; also that its source lay back of human conventions, -somehow in the nature of God. All admitted its absolute supremacy, binding -alike upon popes and secular monarchs, and rendering void all acts and -positive laws contravening it. It must be the State's ultimate constituent -ground. - -God was the source of natural law. Some argued that it proceeded from His -will, as a command, others that its source was eternal Reason announcing -her necessary and unalterable dictates; again its source was held to lie -more definitely in the Reason that was identical with God the _summa ratio -in Deo existens_, as Aquinas puts it. From that springs the _Lex -naturalis_, ordained to rest on the participation of man, as a rational -creature, in the moral order which he perceives by the light of natural -reason. This _lex naturalis_ (or _jus naturale_) is a true promulgated -law, since God implants it for recognition in the minds of men.[417] -Absolute unconditional supremacy was ascribed to it, and also to the _jus -divinum_, which God revealed supernaturally for a supramundane end. A -cognate supremacy was ascribed to the _jus commune gentium_, which was -composed of rules of the _jus naturale_ adapted to the conditions of -fallen human nature. - -Such law was above the State, to which, on the other hand, positive law -was subject. Whenever the ruler was conceived as sovereign or absolute, he -likewise was deemed above positive law, but bound by these higher laws. -They were the source and sanction of the innate and indestructible rights -of the individual, to property and liberty and life as they were -formulated at a later period. It is evident how the recognition of such -rights fell in with the Christian revelation of the absolute value of -every individual in and for himself and his immortal life. On the other -hand, certain rights of the State, or the community, were also -indestructible and inalienable by virtue of the nature of their source in -natural law.[418] - -This abstract of political theory has been stated in terms generalized to -vagueness, and with no attempt to follow the details or trace the -historical development. The purpose has been to give the general flavour -of mediaeval thought concerning Church and State, and the Individual as a -member of them both. One observes how the patristic and mediaeval -Christian thought mingles with the antique; and one may assume the -intellectual acumen applied by legist, canonist, and scholastic theologian -to the discussion and formulation of these high arguments. The mediaeval -genius for abstractions is evident, and the mediaeval faculty of linking -them to the affairs of life; clear also is the baneful effect of mediaeval -allegory. Even as men now-a-days are disposed to rest in the apparent -reality of the tangible phenomenon, so the mediaeval man just as commonly -sought for his reality in what the phenomenon might be conceived to -symbolize. Therefore in the higher political controversies, even as in -other interests of the human spirit, argument through allegory was -accepted as legitimate, if not convincing; and a proper sequence of -thought was deemed to lie from one symbolical meaning to another, with -even a deeper validity than from one palpable fact to that which followed -from it. - - - - -BOOK VII - -ULTIMATE INTELLECTUAL INTERESTS OF THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -SCHOLASTICISM: SPIRIT, SCOPE, AND METHOD - - -The religious philosophy or theology of the Middle Ages is commonly called -scholasticism, and its exponents are called the scholastics. The name -applies most properly to the respectable academic thinkers. These, in the -early Middle Ages, usually were monks living in monasteries, like St. -Anselm, for instance, who was Abbot of Bec in Normandy before, to his -sorrow, he was made Archbishop of Canterbury. In the thirteenth century, -however, while these respected thinkers still were monks, or rather -mendicant friars, they were also university professors. Albertus Magnus -and St. Thomas Aquinas, the great Dominicans, and their friend St. -Bonaventura, who became the head of the Franciscan Order, all lectured at -the University of Paris, the chief university of the Middle Ages in the -domain of philosophy and theology. Moreover, as the scholastics were -respectable and academic, so they were usually orthodox Churchmen, good -Roman Catholics. The conduct or opinions of some of them, Abaelard for -example, became suspect to the Church authorities; yet Abaelard, although -his book had been condemned, kept within the Church's pale, and died a -monk of Cluny. There were plenty of obdurate heretics in the Middle Ages; -but their bizarre ideas, sometimes coming down from Manichaean sources, -were scarcely germane to the central lines of mediaeval thought.[419] - -One hears of scholastic philosophy and scholastic theology; and assuredly -these mediaeval theologian-philosophers endeavoured to distinguish between -the one and the other phase of the matters which occupied their minds. The -distinction was intelligibly drawn and, in many treatises, doubtless -affected the choice and ordering of topics. Whether it was consistently -observed in the handling of those topics, is another question, which -perhaps should be answered in the negative. At all events, to attempt to -observe this distinction in considering the ultimate intellectual -interests of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, might sap the matter of -the human interest attaching to it, to wit, that interest and validity -possessed by all serious effort to know--and to be saved. These were the -motives of the scholastics, whether they used their reason, or clung to -revelation, or did both, as they always did. - -Mediaeval methods of thinking and topics of thought are no longer in -vogue. For the time, men have turned from the discussion of universals and -the common unity or separate individuality of mind, and are as little -concerned with transubstantiation as with the old dispute over -investitures. But the scholastics were men and so are we. Our humanity is -one with theirs. Men are still under the necessity of reflecting upon -their own existence and the world without, and still feel the need to -reach conclusions and the impulse to formulate consistently what seem to -them vital propositions. Herein we are blood kin to Gerbert and Anselm, to -Abaelard and Hugo of St. Victor, to Thomas Aquinas as well as Roger Bacon: -and our highest nature is one with theirs in the intellectual fellowship -of human endeavour to think out and present that which shall appease the -mind. Because of this kinship with the scholastics, and the sympathy which -we feel for the struggle which is the same in us and them, their -intellectual endeavours, their achieved conclusions, although now -appearing as but apt or necessitated phrases, may have for us the immortal -interest of the eternal human. - -Let us then approach mediaeval thought as man meets man, and seek in it -for what may still be valid, or at least real to us, because agreeing with -what we find within ourselves. Being men as well as scholars, we would win -from its parchment-covered tomes those elements which if they do not -represent everlasting verities, are at least symbols of the permanent -necessities of the human mind. Whatever else there is in mediaeval -thought, as touching us less nearly, may be considered by way of -historical setting and explanation. - -In different men the impulse to know bears different relationships to the -rest of life. It sometimes seems self-impelled, and again palpably -inspired by a motive beyond itself. In some form, however, it winds itself -into every action of our mental faculties, and no province of life appears -untouched by this craving of the mind. Nevertheless to know is not the -whole matter; for with knowledge comes appetition or aversion, admiration -or contempt, love or abhorrence; and other impulses--emotional, -desiderative, loving--impel the human creature to realize its nature in -states of heightened consciousness that are not palpable modes of knowing, -though they may be replete with all the knowledge that the man has gained. - -These ultimate cravings which we recognize in ourselves, inspired -mediaeval thought. Its course, its progress, its various phases, its -contents and completed systems, all represent the operation of human -faculty pressing to expression and realization under the accidental or -"historical" conditions of the mediaeval period. We may be sure that many -kinds of human craving and corresponding faculty realized themselves in -mediaeval philosophy, theology, piety and mysticism--the last a word used -provisionally, until we succeed in resolving it into terms of clearer -significance. And we also note that in these provinces, realization is -expression. Every faculty, every energy, in man seeks to function, to -realize its power in act. The sheer body--if there be sheer body--acts -bodily, operates, and so makes actual its powers. But those human energies -which are informed with mind, realize themselves in ardent or rational -thought, or in uttered words, or in products of the artfully devising -hand. All this clearly is expression, and corresponds, if it is not one -and the same, with the passing of energy from potency to the actuality -which is its end and consummation. Thus love, seeking its end, thereby -seeks expression, through which it is enhanced, and in which it is -realized. Likewise, impelled by the desire to know, the faculties of -cognition and reason realize themselves in expression; and in expression -each part of rational knowledge is clarified, completed, rendered -accordant with the data of observation and the laws or necessities of the -mind. - -Human faculties form a correlated whole; and this composite human nature -seeks to act, to _function_. Thus the whole man strives to realize the -fullest actuality of his being, and satisfy or express the whole of him, -and not alone his reason, nor yet his emotions, or his appetites. This -uttermost realization of human being--man's _summum bonum_ or _summa -necessitas_--cannot unite the incompatible within its synthesis. It must -be kept a consistent ideal, a possible whole. Here the demiurge is the -discriminating and constructive intelligence, which builds together the -permanent and valuable elements of being, and excludes whatever cannot -coexist in concord with them. Yet the intelligence does not always set its -own rational activities as man's furthest goal of realization. It may -place love above reason. And, of course, its discriminating judgment will -be affected by current knowledge and by dominant beliefs as to man and his -destiny, the universe and God. - -Manifestly whatever the thoughtful idealizing man in any period (and our -attention may at once focus itself upon the Middle Ages) adjudges to -belong to the final realization of his nature, will become an object of -intellectual interest for him; and he will deem it a proper subject for -study and meditation. The rational, spiritual, or even physical elements, -which may enter and compose this, his _summum bonum_, represent those -intellectual interests which may be termed ultimate, for the very reason, -that they relate to what the thinker deems his beatitude. These ultimate -intellectual interests possess an absolute sanction, for the lack of which -whatever lies outside of them tends to adjudge itself vain. - -The philosophy, theology, and the profoundly felt and reasoned piety, of -the twelfth and thirteenth centuries made up that period's ultimate -intellectual interests. We are not concerned with other matters occupying -its attention, save as they bore on man's supreme beatitude, which was -held to consist in his everlasting salvation and all that might constitute -his bliss in that unending state. The elements of this blessedness were -not deemed to lie altogether in rational cognition and its processes; for -the conception of the soul's beatitude was catholic; and while with some -men the intellectual elements were dominant, with others salvation's -summit was attained along the paths of spiritual emotion. - -Obviously, from the side of the emotions, there could come no large and -lasting happiness, unless emotional desire and devotion were directed to -that which might also satisfy the mind, or at all events, would not -conflict with its judgment. Hence the emotional side of the ultimate -mediaeval ideal was pietistic; because the mediaeval dogmatic faith -regarded the emotional impulses between one human being and another as -distracting, if not wicked. Such mortal impulses were so very difficult to -harmonize with the eternal beatitude which consisted in the cognition and -love of God. This principle was proclaimed by monks and theologians, or -philosophers; it was even recognized (although not followed) in the -literature which glorified the love of man and woman, but in which the -lover-knight so often ends a hermit, and the convent at last receives his -sinful mistress. On the other hand, reason, with its practical and -speculative knowledge, is sterile when unmixed with piety and love. This -is the sum of Bonaventura's fervid arguments, and is as clearly, if more -quietly, recognized by Aquinas, with whom _fides_ without _caritas_ is -_informis_, formless, very far indeed from its true actuality or -realization. - -Thus, for the full realization of man's highest good in everlasting -salvation, the two complementary phases of the human spirit had to act and -function in concord. Together they must realize themselves in such -catholic expression as should exclude only the froward or evil elements, -non-elements rather, of man's nature. Both represent ultimate mediaeval -interests and desires; and perhaps deep down and very intimately, even -inscrutably, they may be one, even as they clearly are complementary -phases of the human soul. Yet with certain natures who perhaps fail to -hold the balance between them, the two phases seem to draw apart, or, at -least, to evince themselves in distinct expression, and indeed in all men -they are usually distinguishable. - -Generally speaking, the conception of man's divinely mediated salvation, -and of the elements of human being which might be carried on, and realized -in a state of everlasting beatitude, prescribed the range of ultimate -intellectual interests for the Middle Ages. The same had been despotically -true of the patristic period. Augustine would know God and the soul; -Ambrose expressed equally emphatic views upon the vanity of all knowledge -that did not contribute to an understanding of the Christian Faith. This -view was held with temperamental and barbarizing narrowness by Gregory the -Great. It was admitted, as of course, throughout the Carolingian period, -although humanistically-minded men played with the pagan literature. Nor -was it seriously disputed in the eleventh or twelfth century, when men -began to delight in dialectic, and some cared for pagan literature; nor -yet in the thirteenth when an increasing number were asking many things -from philosophy and natural knowledge, which had but distant bearing on -the soul's salvation. One of these men was Roger Bacon, whose scientific -studies were pursued with ceaseless energy. But he could also state -emphatically the principle of the worthlessness of whatever does not help -men to understand the divine truths by which they are saved. In Bacon's -time, the love of knowledge was enlarging its compass, while, really or -nominally as the individual case might be, the criterion of relevancy to -the Faith still obtained, and set the topics with which men should occupy -themselves. All matters of philosophy or natural science had to relate -themselves to the _summum bonum_ of salvation in order to possess ultimate -human interest. Therefore, if philosophy was to preserve the strongest -reason for its existence, it had to remain the handmaid of theology. -Still, to be sure, the conception of man's beatitude would become more -comprehensive with the expansion and variegation of the desire for -knowledge. - -As the _summum bonum_ of salvation prescribed the topics of ultimate -intellectual interest for the Middle Ages, so the stress which it laid -upon one topic rather than another tended to direct their ordering or -classification, as well as the proportion of attention devoted to each -one. Likewise the form or method of presentation was controlled by the -authority of the Scriptural statement of the way and means of salvation, -and the well-nigh equally authoritative interpretation of the same by the -beatified Fathers. Thus the nature of the _summum bonum_ and the character -of its Scriptural statement and patristic exposition suggested the -arrangement of topics, and set the method of their treatment in those -works of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries which afford the most -important presentations of the ultimate intellectual interests of that -time. Obvious examples will be Abaelard's _Sic et non_ and his -_Theologia_, Hugo of St. Victor's _De sacramentis_, the Lombard's _Books -of Sentences_, and the _Summa theologiae_ of Thomas Aquinas. - -It will be seen in the next chapter that the arrangement of topics in -these comprehensive treatises differed from what would have been evolved -through the requirements of a systematic presentation of human knowledge. -Aquinas sets forth the reasons why one mode of treatment is suitable to -philosophy and another to sacred science, and why the latter may omit -matters proper for the former, or treat them from another point of view. -The supremacy of sacred science is incidentally shown by the argument. In -his _Contra Gentiles_[420] chapter four, book second, bears the title: -"Quod aliter considerat de creaturis Philosophus et aliter Theologus" -("That the philosopher views the creation in one way and the theologian in -another"). In the text he says: - - "The science (_doctrina_) of Christian faith considers creatures so - far as there may be in them some likeness of God, and so far as error - regarding them might lead to error in things divine.... Human - philosophy considers them after their own kind, and its parts are so - devised as to correspond with the different classes (_genera_) of - things; but the faith of Christ considers them, not after their own - kind, as for example, fire as fire, but as representing the divine - altitude.... The philosopher considers what belongs to them according - to their own nature; the believer (_fidelis_) regards in creatures - only what pertains to them in their relationship to God, as that they - are created by Him and subject to Him. Wherefore the science of the - Faith is not to be deemed incomplete, if it passes over many - properties of things, as the shape of the heaven or the quality of - motion.... It also follows that the two sciences do not proceed in the - same order. With philosophy, which regards creatures in themselves, - and from them draws on into a knowledge of God, the first - consideration is in regard to the creatures and the last is as to God. - But in the science of faith, which views creatures only in their - relationship to God (_in ordine ad Deum_), the first consideration is - of God, and next of the creatures." - -Obviously _sacra doctrina_, which is to say, _theologia_, proceeds -differently from _philosophia humana_, and evidently it has to do with -matters of ultimate importance, and therefore of ultimate intellectual -interest. The passage quoted from the _Contra Gentiles_ may be taken as -introductory to the more elaborate statement at the beginning of his -_Summa theologiae_, where Thomas sets forth the principles by which _sacra -doctrina_ is distinguished from the _philosophicae disciplinae_, to wit, -the various sciences of human philosophy: - - "It was necessary to human salvation that there should be a science - (_doctrina_) according with divine revelation, besides the - philosophical disciplines which are pursued by human reason. Because - man was formed (_ordinatur_) toward God as toward an end exceeding - reason's comprehension. That end should be known to men, who ought to - regulate their intentions and actions toward an end. Wherefore it was - necessary for salvation that man should know certain matters through - revelation, which surpass human reason." - -Thomas now points out that, on account of many errors, it also was -necessary for man to be instructed through divine revelation as to those -saving truths concerning God which human reason was capable of -investigating. He next proceeds to show that _sacra doctrina_ is science. - - "But there are two kinds of sciences. There are those which proceed - from the principles known by the natural light of the mind, as - arithmetic and geometry. There are others which proceed from - principles known by the light of a superior science: as perspective - proceeds from principles made known through geometry, and music from - principles known through arithmetic. And _sacra doctrina_ is science - in this way, because it proceeds from principles known by the light of - a superior science or knowledge which is the knowledge belonging to - God and the beatified. Thus as music believes the principles delivered - to it by arithmetic, so sacred doctrine believes the principles - revealed to it from God." - -The question then is raised whether _sacra doctrina_ is one science, or -many. And Thomas answers, that it is one, by reason of the unity of its -formal object. For it views everything discussed by it as divinely -revealed; and all things which are subjects of revelation (_revelabilia_) -have part in the formal conception of this science; and so are -comprehended under _sacra doctrina_, as under one science. Nevertheless it -extends to subjects belonging to various departments of knowledge so far -as they are knowable through divine illumination. As some of these may be -practical and some speculative, it follows that sacred science includes -both the practical and the speculative, even as God with the same -knowledge knows himself and also the things He makes. - - "Yet this science is more speculative than practical, because on - principle it treats of divine things rather than human actions, which - it treats in so far as man by means of them is directed (_ordinatur_) - to perfect cognition of God, wherein eternal beatitude consists. This - science in its speculative as well as practical functions transcends - other sciences, speculative and practical. One speculative science is - said to be worthier than another, by reason of its certitude, or the - dignity of its matter. In both respects this science surpasses other - speculative sciences, because the others have certitude from the - natural light of human reason, which may err; but this has certitude - from the light of the divine knowledge, which cannot be deceived; - likewise by reason of the dignity of its matter, because primarily it - relates to matters too high for reason, while other sciences consider - only those which are subjected to reason. It is worthier than the - practical sciences, which are ordained for an ulterior end; for so far - as this science is practical, its end is eternal beatitude, unto which - as an ulterior end all other ends of the practical sciences are - ordained (_ordinantur_). - - "Moreover although this science may accept something from the - philosophical sciences, it requires them merely for the larger - manifestation of the matters which it teaches. For it takes its - principles, not from other sciences, but immediately from God through - revelation. So it does not receive from them as from superiors, but - uses them as servants. Even so, it uses them not because of any defect - of its own, but because of the defectiveness of our intellect which is - more easily conducted (_manuducitur_) by natural reason to the things - above reason which this science teaches." - -Thomas now shows, with scholastic formalism, that God is the _subjectum_ -of this science; since all things in it are treated with reference to God -(_sub ratione Dei_), either because they are God himself, or because they -bear relationship (_habent ordinem_) to God as toward their cause and end -(_principium et finem_). The final question is whether this science be -_argumentativa_, using arguments and proofs; and Thomas thus sets forth -his masterly solution: - - "I reply, it should be said that as other sciences do not prove their - first principles, but argue from them in order to prove other matters, - so this science does not argue to prove its principles, which are - articles of Faith, but proceeds from them to prove something else, as - the Apostle, in 1 Corinthians xv., argues from the resurrection of - Christ to prove the resurrection of us all. One should bear in mind - that in the philosophic sciences the lower science neither proves its - own first principles nor disputes with him who denies them, but leaves - that to a higher science. But the science which is the highest among - them, that is metaphysics, does dispute with him who denies its - principles, if the adversary will concede anything; if he concede - nothing it cannot thus argue with him, but can only overthrow his - arguments. Likewise _sacra Scriptura_ (or _doctrina_ or sacred - science, theology), since it owns no higher science, disputes with him - who denies its principles, by argument indeed, if the adversary will - concede any of the matters which it accepts through revelation. Thus - through Scriptural authorities we dispute against heretics, and adduce - one article against those who deny another. But if the adversary will - give credence to nothing which is divinely revealed, sacred science - has no arguments by which to prove to him the articles of faith, but - has only arguments to refute his reasonings against the Faith, should - he adduce any. For since faith rests on infallible truth, its contrary - cannot be demonstrated: manifestly the proofs which are brought - against it are not proofs, but controvertible arguments. - - "To argue from authority is most appropriate to this science; for its - principles rest on revelation, and it is proper to credit the - authority of those to whom the revelation was made. Nor does this - derogate from the dignity of this science; for although proof from - authority based on human reason may be weak, yet proof from authority - based on divine revelation is most effective. - - "Yet sacred science also makes use of human reason; not indeed to - prove the Faith, because this would take away the merit of believing; - but to make manifest other things which may be treated in this - science. For since grace does not annul nature, but perfects it, - natural reason should serve faith, even as the natural inclination - conforms itself to love (_caritas_). Hence sacred science uses the - philosophers also as authority, where they were able to know the truth - through natural reason. It uses authorities of this kind as extraneous - arguments having probability. But it uses the authorities of the - canonical Scriptures arguing from its own premises and with certainty. - And it uses the authorities of other doctors of the Church, as arguing - upon its own ground, yet only with probability. For our faith rests - upon the revelation made to the Apostles and Prophets, who wrote the - canonical books; and not upon the revelation, if there was any, made - to other doctors."[421] - -Mediaeval thought was beset behind and before by the compulsion of its -conditions. Its mighty antecedents lived in it, and wrought as moulding -forces. Well we know them, two in number, the one, of course, the antique -philosophy; the other, again of course, the dogmatic Christian Faith, -itself shot through and through with antique metaphysics, in the terms of -which it had been formulated. These two, very dual and yet joined, -antagonistic and again united, constituted the form-giving principles of -mediaeval thinking. They were, speaking in scholastic phrase, the -substantial as well as accidental forms of mediaeval theology, philosophy, -and knowledge. Which means that they set the lines of mediaeval theology -or philosophy, and caused the one and the other to be what it became, -rather than something else; and also that they supplied the knowledge -which mediaeval men laboured to acquire, and attempted to adjust their -thinking to. Thus, through the twelfth, the thirteenth, and the fourteenth -centuries, they remained the inworking formal causes of mediaeval thought; -while, on the other hand, the moving and efficient causes (still speaking -in scholastic-Aristotelian phrase) were the human impulses which those -formal causes moulded, or indeed suggested, and the faculties which they -trained. - -The patristic system of dogma with the antique philosophy, set the forms -of mediaeval expression, fixed the distinctive qualities of mediaeval -thought, furnished its topics, and even necessitated its problems--in two -ways: First, through the specific substance which passed over and filled -the mediaeval productions; and secondly, simply by reason of the existence -of such a vast authoritative body of antique and patristic opinion, -knowledge, dogma, which the Middle Ages had to accept and master, and -beyond which the substance of mediaeval thinking was hardly destined to -advance. - -The first way is obvious enough, inasmuch as patristic and antique matter -palpably make the substance of mediaeval theology and philosophy. The -second is less obvious, but equally important. This mass of dogma, -knowledge, and opinion, existed finished and complete. Men imperfectly -equipped to comprehend it were brought to it by the conviction that it was -necessary to their salvation, and then gradually by the persuasion also -that it offered the only means of intellectual progress. The struggle to -master such a volume of knowledge issuing from a more creative past, gave -rise to novel problems, or promoted old ones to a novel prominence. The -problem of universals was taken directly from the antique dialectic. It -played a monstrous role in the twelfth century because it was in very -essence a fundamental problem of cognition, of knowing, and so pressed -upon men who were driven by the need to master continually unfolding -continents of thought.[422] This is an instance of a problem transmitted -from the past, but blown up to extraordinary importance by mediaeval -intellectual conditions. So throughout the whole scholastic range, -attitude and method alike are fixed by the fact that scholasticism was -primarily an appropriation of transmitted propositions. - -In considering the characteristics of mediaeval thought, it is well to -bear in mind these diverse ways in which its antecedents made it what it -was: through their substance transmitted to it; through the receptive -attitude forced upon men by existing accumulations of authoritative -doctrine, and the method entailed upon mediaeval thought by its scholastic -rather than originative character. Also one will not omit to notice which -elements came from the action of the patristic body of antecedents, rather -than from the antique group, and _vice versa_. - -Since the antique and patristic constituted well-nigh the whole substance -of philosophy and theology in the Middle Ages, a separate consideration of -what was thus transmitted would amount to a history of mediaeval thought -from a somewhat unilluminating point of view. On the other hand, one may -learn much as to the qualities of mediaeval thought from observing the -attitudes of various men in successive centuries toward Greek philosophy -and patristic theology. The Fathers had used the concepts of the former in -the construction of their systems of acceptance of the Christian Faith. -But the spirit of inquiry from which Greek philosophy had sprung, was very -different from the spirit in which the Fathers used its concepts and -arguments, in order to substantiate what they accepted on the authority of -Scripture and tradition. It is true that Greek philosophy in the -Neo-Platonism of Porphyry and Iamblicus was not far from the patristic -attitude toward knowledge. But the spirit of these declining moods of -Neo-Platonism was not the spirit which had carried the philosophy of the -Greeks to its intellectual culmination in Plato and Aristotle, and to -its attainment of the ethically rational in Stoicism and the system of -Epicurus. - -Thus patristic thinking was essentially different in purpose and method -from the philosophy which it forced to serve its uses; and the two -differed by every difference of method, spirit, and intent which were -destined to appear among the various kinds of mediaeval thinkers. But the -difference between Greek philosopher and Church Father was deeper than any -that ever could exist among mediaeval men. Some of the last might be -conventionally orthodox and passionately pious, while others cared more -distinctly for the fruits of knowledge. But even these could not be as -Greek philosophers, because they were accustomed to rely on authority, and -because they who drew their knowledge from an existing store would not -have the independence and originality distinguishing the Greeks, who had -created so much of that store from which they drew.[423] Moreover, while -neither Plato's inquiry for truth, nor Aristotle's catholic search for -knowledge, was isolated from its bearing on either the conduct or the -event of life, nevertheless with them rational inquiry was a final motive -representing in itself that which was most divinely human, and so the best -for man.[424] But with the philosophers of the Middle Ages, it never was -quite so. For the need of salvation had worked in men's blood for -generations. And salvation, man's highest good, did not consist in -humanly-attained knowledge or in virtue won by human strength; but was -divinely mediated and had to be accepted upon authority. Hence, even in -the great twelfth and thirteenth centuries, intellectual inquiry was never -unlimbered from bands of deference, nor ever quite dispassionately -rational or unaffected by the mortal need to attain a salvation which was -bestowed or withheld by God according to His plan authoritatively -declared. - -Accordingly all mediaeval variances of thought show common similitudes: to -wit, some consciousness of need of super-rational and superhuman -salvation; deference to some authority; and finally a pervasive -scholasticism, since mediaeval thought was of necessity diligent, -acceptant, reflective, rather than original. One will be impressed with -the formal character of mediaeval thought. For being thus scholastic, it -was occupied with devising forms through which to express, or re-express, -the mass of knowledge proffered to it. Besides, formal logic was a -prominent part of the transmitted contents of antique philosophy; and -became a chief discipline for mediaeval students; because they accepted it -along with all the rest, and found its training helpful for men burdened -with such intellectual tasks as theirs. - -Within the lines of these universal qualities wind the divergencies of -mediaeval thought; and one will notice how they consist in leanings toward -the ways of Greek philosophy, or a reliance more or less complete upon the -contents and method of patristic theology. One common quality, of which we -note the variations, is that of deference to the authority of the past. -The mediaeval scholar could hardly read a classic poet without finding -authoritative statements upon every topic brushed by the poet's fancy, and -of course the matter of more serious writings, history, logic, natural -science, was implicitly accepted. If the pagan learning was thus regarded, -how much more absolute was the deference to sacred doctrine. Here all was -authority. Scripture was the primary source; next came the creed, and the -dogmas established by councils; and then the expositions of the Fathers. -Thus the meaning of the authoritative Scripture was pressed into -authoritative dogma, and then authoritatively systematized. The process -had been intellectual and rational, yet with the driven rationality of -Church Fathers struggling to formulate and express the accepted import of -the Faith delivered to the saints. Authority, faith, held the primacy, and -in two senses, for not only was it supreme and final, but it was also -prior in initiative efficiency. Tertullian's _certum est, quia impossibile -est_, was an extreme paradox. But Augustine's _credimus ut cognoscamus_ -was fundamental, and remained unshaken. Anselm lays it at the basis of his -arguments; with Bernard and many others it is _credo_ first of all, let -the _intelligere_ come as it may, and as it will according to the fulness -of our faith. The same principle of faith's efficient primacy is -temperamentally as well as logically fundamental with Bonaventura. - -Here then was a first general quality of mediaeval thought: deference to -authority. Now for the variances. Scarcely diverging, save in emphasis, -from Augustine and Bonaventura, are the greatest of the schoolmen, Albert -and Thomas. They defer to authority and recognize the primacy of faith, -and yet they will, with abundant use of reason, deliminate the respective -provinces of grace and human knowledge, and distinguish the absolute -authority of Scripture from the statements even of the saints, which may -be weighed and criticized. In secular philosophy, these two will, when -their faith admits, accept the views of the philosophers--Aristotle above -all--yet using their own reason. They are profoundly interested in -knowledge and metaphysical dialectic, but follow it with deferential -tempers and believing Christian souls. - -Outside the company of such, are men of more independent temper, whose -attitude tends to weaken the principle of acceptance of authority in -sacred doctrine. The first of these was Eriugena with his explicit -statement that reason is greater than authority; yet we may assume that he -was not intending to impugn Scripture. Centuries later another chief -example is Abaelard, whose dialectic temper leads him to wish to prove -everything by reason. Not that he stated, or would have admitted this; yet -the extreme rationalizing tendency of the man is projected through such a -passage as the following from his _Historia calamitatum_, where he alludes -to the circumstances of the composition of his work upon the Trinity. He -had become a monk in the monastery of St. Denis, but students were still -thronging to hear him, to the wrath of some of his superiors. - - "Then it came about that I was brought to expound the very foundation - of our faith by applying the analogies of human reason, and was led to - compose for my pupils a theological treatise on the divine Unity and - Trinity. They were calling for human and philosophical arguments, and - insisting upon something intelligible, rather than mere words, saying - that there had been more than enough of talk which the mind could not - follow; that it was impossible to believe what was not understood in - the first place; and that it was ridiculous for any one to set forth - to others what neither he nor they could rationally conceive - (_intellectu capere_)." - -And Abaelard cites the verse from Matthew about the blind leaders of the -blind, and goes on to tell of the success of his treatise, which pleased -everybody, yet provoked the greater envy because of the difficulty of the -questions which it elucidated; and at last envy blew up the condemnation -of his book, at the Council of Soissons, in the year of grace 1121.[425] - -Here one has the plain reversal. We must first understand in order to -believe. Doubtless the demands of Abaelard's students to have the -principles of the Christian Faith explained, that they might be understood -and accepted rationally, echoed the master's imperative intellectual need. -Not that Abaelard would breathe the faintest doubt of these verities; they -were absolute and unquestionable. He accepted them upon authority just as -implicitly (he might think) as St. Bernard. Herein he shows the mediaeval -quality of deference. But he will understand with his mind the profoundest -truths enunciated by authority; he will explain them rationally, that the -mind may rationally comprehend them. - -Men of an opposite cast of mind foresaw the outcome of this -rationalization of dogma more surely than the subtle dialectician for whom -this process was both peremptory and proper. And the Church acted with a -true instinct in condemning Abaelard in spite of his protestations of -belief, just as with a like true instinct Friar Bacon's own Franciscan -Order looked askance on one whose mind was suspiciously set upon -observation and experiment--and cavilling at others. _Celui-ci tuera -cela!_ The ultra-scientific spirit is dangerous to faith--and Bacon's -asseverations that no knowledge was of value save as it helped the soul's -salvation, was doubtless regarded as a conventional insincerity. Yet Roger -Bacon had his mediaeval deferences, as will appear.[426] - -Neither one extreme view nor the other was to represent the attitude of -thoughtful and believing Christendom; not William of St. Thierry and St -Bernard, nor yet (on these points) Abaelard and Friar Bacon should -prevail; but the all-balancing and all-considering Aquinas. He will draw -the lines between faith and reason, and bulwark them with arguments which -shall seem to render unto reason the things of reason, and unto faith its -due. Yet it is actually Roger Bacon who accuses Thomas of making his -_Theology_ out of dialectic and very human reasonings. It was true; and we -are again reminded how variant views shaded into each other in the Middle -Ages, and all within certain lines of similarity. Practically all -mediaeval thinkers defer to authority--more or less; and all hold to some -principle of faith, to the necessity of _believing_ something, for the -soul's salvation. There is likewise some similarity in their attitudes -toward intellectual interests. For all recognized their propriety, and -gave credit to the human desire to know. Likewise all saw that salvation, -the _summum bonum_ for man, included more than intellection; and felt that -it held some consummation of other human impulses; that it held love--the -love of God along with the intellectual ardour of contemplation; and -well-nigh all recognized also that the faith held mystery, not to be -solved by reason. Thus all were rational--some more, some less; and all -were devotional and believing, pietistic, ardent--some more, some less; -according as the intellectual nature dominated over the emotional, or the -emotions quelled the conscious exercise of reason, yet reached out and -upward from what knowledge and reason had given as a base to spring from. - -Thus the mediaeval spirit, variant within its lines of likeness; and of a -piece with it was the field it worked in, which made its range and scope. -Here as well, a saving knowledge of God and the soul was central and chief -among all intellectual interests. None denied this. Augustine, the -universal prototype of the mediaeval mind, had cried, "God and the soul, -these will I know, and these are all." But wide had been the scope of -_his_ knowledge of God and the soul; and in the centuries which hung upon -his words, wide also was the range of knowledge subsumed under those -capitals. How would one know God and the soul? Might one not know God in -all His universe, in the height and breadth thereof, and backwards and -forwards through the reach of time? Might not one also know the soul in -all its operations, all its queries and desires; would not it and they, -and their activities, make up the complementary side of -knowledge--complementary to the primal object, God, known in His eternity, -in His temporal creation, in His everlasting governance? Wide or narrow -might be the intellectual interests included within a knowledge of God and -the soul. And while many men kept close to the centre and saving _nexus_ -of these potentially universal themes, others might become absorbed with -data of the creature-world, or with the manifold actions of the mind of -man, so as to forget to keep all duly ordered and connected with the -central thought. - -So the search for knowledge might roam afield. Likewise as to its motive; -practically with many men it was, in itself, a joy and end; although they -might continue to connect this end formally with the salvation of the -soul. Roger Bacon of a surety was such a one. Another was Albertus Magnus. -The laborious culling of twenty tomes of universal knowledge surely had -the joy of knowing as the active motive. And Aquinas too; no one could be -such an acquisitive and reasoning genius, without the love of knowledge in -his soul. Yet Thomas never let this love point untrue to its goal of -research and devotion, to wit, sacred doctrine, theology, the Christian -Faith in its very widest compass, yet in its unity of saving purpose. - -In Thomas Aquinas the certitude of faith, the sense of grace, the ardour -of love, never quenched the conscious action of the reasoning and knowing -mind; nor did reasoning quench devotion. A balance too, though perhaps -with one scale higher than the other, was kept by Bonaventura, whose mind -had reason's faculty, but whose heart burned perpetually toward God. -Another rationally ardent soul was Bonaventura's intellectual forerunner, -Hugo of St. Victor. In these men intellect did not outstrip the fervours -of contemplation. But such catholic balance did not hold with Abaelard and -Bacon, who lacked the pietistic temperament. With others, conversely, the -strength of the pietistic and emotional nature overbore the intellect; -the mind was less exacting; and devotional ardour used reason solely for -its purposes. The mightiest of these were Bernard and Francis. To the same -key might chime the woman, St. Hildegard of Bingen. We narrow down from -these to hectic souls content with a few thoughts which serve as a basis -for the heart's fervours. - -The varying attitudes of mediaeval thinkers toward reason and authority, -and even their different views upon the limits of the field of salutary -knowledge, are exemplified in their methods, or rather in the variations -of their common method. Here the factors were again authority and the -intellect which considers the authority, and in terms of its own rational -processes reacts upon the proposition under view. The intellect might -simply accept authority; or, on the other hand, it might, through -dialectic, seek a conclusion of its own. But midway between a mere -acceptance of authority, and the endeavour of dialectic for a conclusion -of its own, there is the reasoning process which perceives divergence -among authorities, compares, discriminates, interprets, and at last acts -as umpire. This was the combined and catholic scholastic method. It -contained the two factors of its necessary duality; and its variations -(besides the gradual perfecting of its form from one generation to -another) consisted in the predominant employment of one factor or the -other. - -The beginning was in the Carolingian time, when Rabanus compiled his -authorities from sources sacred and profane, scarcely discriminating -except to maintain the pre-eminence of the sacred matter. His younger -contemporary, Eriugena, was a translator of his own chief source, -Pseudo-Dionysius, him of the _Hierarchies_, Celestial and Ecclesiastical. -Yet he composed also a veritable book, _De divisione naturae_, in which he -put his matter together organically and with argument. And while -professing to hold to the authority of Scripture and the Fathers, he not -only took upon himself to select from their statements, but propounded the -proposition that the authority which is not confirmed by reason appears -weak. Eriugena made his authorities yield him what his reason required. -His argumentative method became an independent rehandling of matter drawn -from them. It was very different from the plodding excerpt-gathering of -Rabanus. - -We pass down the centuries to Anselm. Contemplative and religious, his -reverence for authority was unimpaired by any conscious need to refashion -its meaning. Though he possessed creative intellectual powers, they were -incited and controlled by his deep piety. Hence his works were constructed -of original and lofty arguments, but such as did not infringe upon either -the efficient or the final priority of faith. - -With Abaelard of many-sided fame the duality of method becomes explicit, -and is, if one may say so, set by the ears. On the one hand, he advances -in his constructive theological treatises toward a portentous application -of reason to explain the contents of the Christian Faith; on the other, -somewhat sardonically, he devises a scheme for the employment and -presentation of authorities upon these sacred matters, a scheme so -obviously apt that once made known it could not but be followed and -perfected. - -The divers works of a man are likely to bear some relation and resemblance -to each other. Abaelard was a reasoner, more specifically speaking, a -dialectician according to the ways of Aristotelian logic. And in -categories of formal logic he sought to rationalize every matter -apprehended by his mind. Swayed by the master-interest of the time, he -turned to theology; and his own nature impelled him to apply a -constructive dialectic to its systematic formulation. The result is -exemplified in the extant portion of his _Theologia_ (mis-called -_Introductio ad Theologiam_), which was condemned by the Council of Sens -in 1141, the year before the master's death. The spirit of this work -appears in the passage already quoted from the _Historia calamitatum_, -referring to what was substantially an earlier form of the -_Theologia_.[427] The _Theologia_ argues for a free use of dialectic in -expounding dogma, especially in order to refute those heretics who will -not listen to authority, but demand reasons. Like Abaelard's previous -theological treatises, it is filled with citations of authority, -principally Augustine; and the reader feels the author's hesitancy to -reveal that dialectic is the architect. Nor, in fact, is the work an -exclusively dialectic structure; yet it illustrates (if it does not always -inculcate) the application of the arguments of human reason to the -exposition and substantiation of the fundamental and most deeply hidden -contents of the Christian Faith. Obviously Abaelard was not an initiator -here. Augustine had devoted his life to fortifying the Faith with argument -and explanation; Eriugena, with a far weaker realization of its contents, -had employed a more distorting metaphysics in its presentation; and -saintly Anselm had flown his veritable eagle flights of reason. But -Abaelard's more systematic work represents a further stage in the -application of independent dialectic to dogma, and an innovating freedom -in the citation of pagan philosophers to demonstrate its philosophic -reasonableness. Nevertheless his statement that he had gathered these -citations from writings of the Fathers, and not from the books of the -philosophers (_quorum pauca novi_),[428] shows that he was only using what -the Fathers had made use of before him, and also indicates the slightness -of his independent knowledge of Greek philosophy. - -On the other hand, Abaelard's way of presenting authorities for and -against a theological proposition was more distinctly original. He seems -to have been the first purposefully to systematize the method of stating -the problem, and then giving in order the authorities on one side and the -other--_sic et non_; as he entitled his famous work. But the trail of his -nature lay through this apparently innocent composition, the evident -intent of which was to emphasize, if not exaggerate, the opposition among -the patristic authorities, and without a counterbalancing attempt to show -any substantial accord among them. This, of course, is not stated in the -Prologue, which however, like everything that Abaelard wrote, discloses -his fatal facility of putting his hand on the raw spot in the matter; -which unfortunately is likely to be the vulnerable point also. In it he -remarks on the difficulty of interpreting Scripture, upon the corruption -of the text (a perilous subject), and the introduction of apocryphal -writings. There are discrepancies even in the sacred texts, and -contradictions in the writings of the Fathers. With a profuse backing of -authority he shows that the latter are not to be read _cum credendi -necessitate_, but _cum judicandi libertate_. Assuredly, as to anything in -the canonical Scriptures, "it is not permitted to say: 'The Author of this -book did not hold the truth'; but rather 'the codex is false or the -interpreter errs, or thou dost not understand.' But in the works of the -later ones (_posteriorum_, Abaelard's inclusive designation of the -Fathers), which are contained in books without number, if passages are -deemed to depart from the truth, the reader is at liberty to approve or -disapprove." - -This view was supported by Abaelard's citations from the Fathers -themselves; and yet, so abruptly made, it was not a pleasant statement for -the ears of those to whom the writings of the holy Fathers were sacred. -Nothing was sacred to the man who wrote this prologue--so it seemed to his -pious contemporaries. And who among them could approve of the Prologue's -final utterance upon the method and purpose of the book? - - "Wherefore we decided to collect the diverse statements of the holy - Fathers, as they might occur to our memory, thus raising an issue from - their apparent repugnancy, which might incite the _teneros lectores_ - to search out the truth of the matter, and render them the sharper for - the investigation. For the first key to wisdom is called - interrogation, diligent and unceasing.... By doubting we are led to - inquiry; and from inquiry we perceive the truth." - -To use the discordant statements of the Fathers to sharpen the wits of the -young! Was not that to uncover their shame? And the character of the work -did not salve the Prologue's sting. Abaelard selected and arranged his -extracts from pagan as well as Christian writers, and prepared sardonic -titles for the questions under which he ordered his material. Time and -again these titles flaunt an opposition which the citations scarcely bear -out. For example, title iv.: "Quod sit credendum in Deum solum, et -contra"--certainly a flaming point; yet the excerpts display merely the -verb _credere_, used in the palpably different senses borne by the word -"believe." There is no real repugnancy among the citations. And again, in -title lviii.: "Quod Adam salvatus sit, et contra"--there is no citation -_contra_. And the longest chapter in the book (cxvii.) has this bristling -title: "De sacramento altaris, quod sit essentialiter ipsa veritas carnis -Christi et sanguinis, et contra." - -Because of such prickly traits the _Sic et non_ did not itself come into -common use. But the suggestions of its method once made, were of too -obvious utility to be abandoned. First, among Abaelard's own pupils the -result appears in _Books of Sentences_, which, in the arrangement of their -matter, followed the topical division not of the _Sic et non_, but of -Abaelard's _Theologia_, with its threefold division of Theology into -_Fides_, _Caritas_, and _Sacramentum_.[429] But the arrangement of the -_Theologia_ was not made use of in the best and most famous of these -compositions, Peter Lombard's _Sententiarum libri quatuor_. This work -employed the method (not the arrangement) of the _Sic et non_, and -expounded the contents of Faith methodically, "Distinctio" after -"Distinctio," stating the proposition, citing the authorities bearing upon -it, and ending with some conciliating or distinguishing statement of the -true result. In canon law the same method was applied in Gratian's -_Decretum_, of which the proper name was _Concordia discordantium -canonum_. - -These _Books of Sentences_ have sometimes been called _Summae_, inasmuch -as their scope embraced the entire contents of the Faith. But the term -_Summa_ may properly be confined to those larger and still more -encyclopaedic compositions in which this scholastic method reached its -final development. The chief makers of these, the veritable _Summae -theologiae_, were, in order of time, Alexander of Hales, Albertus Magnus, -and Thomas Aquinas. The _Books of Sentences_ were books of sentences. The -_Summa_ proceeded by the same method, or rather issued from it, as its -consummation and perfect logical form; thus the scholastic method arrived -at its highest constructive energy. In the _Sentences_ one excerpted -opinion was given and another possibly divergent, and at the end an -adjustment was presented. This comparative formlessness attains in the -_Summa_ a serried syllogistic structure. Thomas, who finally perfects it, -presents his connected and successive topics divided into _quaestiones_, -which are subdivided into _articuli_, whose titles give the point to be -discussed. He states first, and frequently in his own syllogistic terms, -the successive negative arguments; and then the counter-proposition, which -usually is a citation from Scripture or from Augustine. Then with clear -logic he constructs the true positive conclusion in accordance with the -authority which he has last adduced. He then refutes each of the adverse -arguments in turn. - -Thus the method of the _Sentences_ is rendered dialectically organic; and -with the perfecting of the form of _quaestio_ and _articulus_, and the -logical linking of successive topics, the whole composition, from a -congeries, becomes a structure, organic likewise, a veritable _Summa_, and -a _Summa_ of a science which has unity and consistency. This science is -_sacra doctrina, theologia_. Moreover, as compared with the _Sentences_, -the contents of the _Summa_ are enormously enlarged. For between the time -of the Lombard and that of Thomas, there has come the whole of Aristotle, -and what is more, the mastery of the whole of Aristotle, which Thomas -incorporates in a complete and organic statement of the Christian scheme -of salvation.[430] - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV - -CLASSIFICATION OF TOPICS; STAGES OF EVOLUTION - - I. PHILOSOPHIC CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES; THE ARRANGEMENT OF - VINCENT'S ENCYCLOPAEDIA, OF THE LOMBARD'S _Sentences_, OF - AQUINAS'S _Summa theologiae_. - - II. THE STAGES OF DEVELOPMENT: GRAMMAR, LOGIC, METALOGICS. - - -I - -Having considered the spirit, the field, and the dual method, of mediaeval -thought, there remain its classifications of topics. The problem of -classification presented itself to Gerbert as one involved in the rational -study of the ancient material.[431] But as scholasticism culminated in the -twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the problem became one of arrangement -and presentation of the mass of knowledge and argument which the Middle -Ages had at length made their own, and were prepared to re-express. This -ordering was influenced by a twofold principle of classification; for, as -abundantly shown by Aquinas,[432] theology in which all is ordered with -reference to God, will properly follow an arrangement of topics quite -unsuitable to the natural or human sciences, which treat of things with -respect to themselves. But the mediaeval practice was more confused than -the theory; because the interest in human knowledge was apt to be touched -by motives sounding in the need of divine salvation; and speculation could -not free itself of the moving principles of Christian theology. On the -other hand, an enormous quantity of human dialectic, and a prodigious mass -of what strikes us as profane information, or misinformation, was carried -into the mediaeval _Summa_, and still more into those encyclopaedias, -which attempted to include all knowledge, and still were influenced in -their aim by a religious purpose.[433] - -As the human sciences came from the pagan antique, the accepted -classifications of them naturally were taken from Greek philosophy. They -followed either the so-called Platonic division, into Physics, Ethics, and -Logic,[434] or the Aristotelian division of philosophy into theoretical -and practical. The former scheme, of which it is not certain that Plato -was the author, passed on through the Stoic and Epicurean systems of -philosophy, was recognized by the Church Fathers, and received Augustine's -approval. It was made known to the Middle Ages through Cassiodorus, -Isidore, Alcuin, Rabanus, Eriugena and others. - -Nevertheless the Aristotelian division of philosophy into theoretical and -practical was destined to prevail. It was introduced to the western Middle -Ages through Boethius's Commentary on Porphyry's _Isagoge_,[435] and -adopted by Gerbert; later it passed over through translations of Arabic -writings. It was accepted by Hugo of St. Victor, by Albertus Magnus and by -Thomas, to mention only the greatest names; and was set forth in detail -with explanation and comment in a number of treatises, such as -Gundissalinus's _De divisione philosophiae_, and Hugo of St. Victor's -_Eruditio didascalica_,[436] which were formal and schematic introductions -to the study of philosophy and its various branches. - -The usual subdivisions of these two general parts of philosophy were as -follows. Theoretica (or _Theorica_) was divided into (1) Physics, or -_scientia naturalis_, (2) Mathematics, and (3) Metaphysics or Theology, or -_divina scientia_, as it might be called. Physics and Mathematics were -again divided into more special sciences. _Practica_ was divided commonly -into Ethics, Economics, Politics, or into Ethics and _Artes mechanicae_. -There was a difference of opinion as to what to do with Logic. It had, to -be sure, its position in the current Trivium, along with grammar and -rhetoric. But this was merely current, and might not approve itself on -deeper reflection. Gundissalinus speaks of three propaedeutic sciences, -the _scientiae eloquentiae_, grammar, poetics, and rhetoric, and then puts -Logic after them as a _scientia media_ between these primary educational -matters and philosophy, _i.e._ the whole range of knowledge, theoretical -and practical. Again, over against _philosophia realis_, which contains -both the _theoretica_ (or _speculativa_) and the _practica_, Thomas -Aquinas sets the _philosophia rationalis_, or logic; and Richard Kilwardby -opposes _logica_, the _scientia rationalis_, to _practica_, in his -division.[437] - -The last-named philosopher was the pupil and then the hostile critic of -Aquinas, and also became Archbishop of Canterbury. He was the author of a -careful and elaborate classification of the parts of philosophy, entitled -_De ortu et divisione philosophiae_.[438] In it, following the broad -distinction between _res divinae_ and _res humanae_, Kilwardby divides -philosophy into _speculativa_ and _practica_. _Speculativa_ is divided -into _naturalis_ (physics), _mathematica_, and _divina_ (metaphysics). He -does not divide the first and third of these; but he divides _mathematica_ -into those sciences which treat of quantity in continuity and separation -respectively (_quantitas continua_ and _quantitas discreta_). The former -embrace geometry, astronomy and astrology, and perspective; the latter, -music and arithmetic. _Practica_, which is concerned with _res humanae_, -is divided into _activa_ and _sermocinalis_: because _res humanae_ consist -either of _operationes_ or _locutiones_. The _activa_ embraces Ethics and -mechanics; the _scientia sermocinalis_ embraces grammar, logic, and -rhetoric. Such are Kilwardby's bare captions; his treatise lengthily -treats of the interrelations of these various branches of knowledge. - -An idea of the scholastic discussion of the classification of sciences may -be had by following Albertus Magnus's ponderous approach to a -consideration of logic: whether it be a science, and, if so, what place -should be allotted it. We draw from the opening of his _liber_ on the -_Predicables_,[439] that is to say, his exposition of Porphyry's -Introduction. Albert will consider "what kind of a science (_qualis -scientia_) logic may be, and whether it is any part of philosophy; what -need there is of it, and what may be its use; then of what it treats, and -what are its divisions." The ancients seem to have disagreed, some saying -that logic is no science, since it is rather a _modus_ (mode, manner or -method) of every science or branch of knowledge. But these, continues -Albertus, have not reflected that although there are many sciences, and -each has its special _modus_, yet there is one _modus_ common to all -sciences, pertaining to that which is common to them all: the principle, -to wit, that through reason's inquiry, from what is known one arrives at -knowledge of the unknown. This mode or method common to every science may -be considered in itself, and so may be the subject of a special science. -After further balancing of the reasons and authorities _pro_ and _con_, -Albertus concludes: - - "It is therefore clear that logic is a special science just as in - ironworking there is the special art of making a hammer, yet its use - pertains to everything made by the ironworker's craft. So this process - of discovering the unknown through the known, is something special, - and may be studied as a special art and science; yet the use of it - pertains to all sciences." - -He next considers whether logic is a part of philosophy. Some say no, -since there are (as they say) only three divisions of philosophy, physics, -mathematics, and metaphysics; others say that logic is a _modus_ of -philosophy and not one of its divisions. But, on the contrary, it is shown -by others that this view of philosophy omits the practical side, for -philosophy's scope comprehends the truth of everything which man may -understand, including the truth of that which is in ourselves, and strives -to comprehend both truth and the process of advancing from the known to a -knowledge of the unknown. These point out that - - "... the Peripatetics divided philosophy first into three parts, to - wit, into _physicam generaliter dictam_, and _ethicam generaliter - dictam_ and _rationalem_ likewise taken broadly. I call _physica - generaliter dicta_ that which embraces _scientia naturalis_, - _disciplinalis_, and _divina_ (_i.e._ physics in a narrower sense, - mathematics which is called _scientia disciplinalis_, and metaphysics - which is _scientia divina_). And I call _ethica_, that which, broadly - taken, contains the _scientia monastica_, _oeconomica_ and _civilis_. - And I call that the _scientia rationalis_, broadly taken, which - includes every mode of proceeding from the known to the unknown. From - which it is evident that logic is a part of philosophy." - -And finally it may be shown that - - "if anything is within the scope of philosophy it must be that without - which philosophy cannot reach any knowledge. He who is ignorant of - logic can acquire no perfect cognition of the unknown, because he is - ignorant of the way in which he should proceed from the known to the - unknown." - -From these latter arguments, approved by him and in part stated as his -own, Albertus advances to a classification of the parts of logic, which he -makes to include rhetoric, poetics, and dialectic, and to be -demonstrative, sophistical or disputatious, according to the use to which -logic (broadly taken) is applied and the manner in which it may in each -case proceed, in advancing from the known to some farther ascertainment or -demonstration.[440] Soon after this, in discussing the subject of this -science, Albertus points out how logic differs from rhetoric and poetics, -although with them it may treat of _sermo_, or speech, and be called a -_scientia sermonalis_; for, unlike them, it treats of _sermo_ merely as a -means of drawing conclusions, and not in and for itself. - -From the purely philosophical division of the sciences we pass to the -hybrid arrangement adopted by Vincent of Beauvais, who died in 1264. This -man was a prodigious devourer of books, and for a sufficient pabulum, St. -Louis set before him his collection of twelve hundred volumes. Thereupon -Vincent compiled the most famous of mediaeval encyclopaedias, employing in -that labour enormous diligence and a number of assistants. His ponderous -_Speculum majus_ is drawn from the most serviceable sources, including the -works of Albertus, his contemporary, and great scholastics like Hugo of -St. Victor, who were no more. It consisted of the _Speculum naturale_, -_doctrinale_, and _historiale_; and a fourth, the _Speculum morale_, was -added by a later hand.[441] Turning its leaves, and reading snatches here -and there, especially from its Prologues, we shall gain a sufficient -illustration of the arrangement of topics followed by this writer, whose -faculties seem to drown in his shoreless undertaking.[442] - -In his turgid _generalis prologus_ to the _Speculum naturale_, Vincent -presents his motives for collecting in one volume - - "... certain flowers according to my modicum of faculty, gathered from - every one I have been able to read, whether of our Catholic Doctors or - the Gentile philosophers and poets. Especially have I drawn from them - what seemed to pertain either to the building up of our dogma, or to - moral instruction, or to the incitement of charity's devotion, or to - the mystic exposition of divine Scripture, or to the manifest or - symbolical explanation of its truth. Thus by one grand _opus_ I would - appease my studiousness, and perchance, by my labours, profit those - who, like me, try to read as many books as possible, and cull their - flowers. Indeed of making many books there is no end, and neither is - the eye of the curious reader satisfied, nor the ear of the auditor." - -He then refers to the evils of false copying and the ascription of -extracts to the wrong author. And it seems to him that Church History has -been rather neglected, while men have been intent on expounding knotty -problems. And now considering how to proceed and group his various -matters, Vincent could find no better method than the one he has chosen, -"to wit, that after the order of Holy Scripture, I should treat first of -the Creator, next of the creation, then of man's fall and reparation, and -then of events (_rebus gestis_) chronologically." He proposes to give a -summary of titles at the end of the work. Sometimes he may state as his -own, things he has had from his teachers or from very well-known books; -and he admits that he did not have time to collate the _gesta martyrum_, -and so some of the abstracts which he gives of these are not by his own -hand, but by the hand of scribes (_notariorum_). - -Vincent proposes to call the whole work _Speculum majus_, a Speculum -indeed, or an _Imago mundi_, "containing in brief whatever, from -unnumbered books, I have been able to gather, worthy of consideration, -admiration, or imitation _as to things which have been made or done or -said in the visible or invisible world from the beginning until the end, -and even of things to come_." He briefly adverts to the utility of his -work, and then gives his motive for including history. This he thinks will -help us to understand the story of Christ; and from a perusal of the wars -which took place "before the advent of our pacific King, the reader will -perceive with what zeal we should fight against our spiritual foes, for -our salvation and the eternal glory promised us." From the great slaughter -of men in many wars, may be realized also the severity of God against the -wicked, who are slain like sheep, and perish body and soul.[443] - -As to nature, Vincent says: - - "Moreover I have diligently described the nature of things, which, I - think, no one will deem useless, who, in the light of grace, has read - of the power, wisdom and goodness of God, creator, ruler and - preserver, in that same book of the Creation appointed for us to - read." - -Moreover, to know about things is useful for preachers and theologians, as -Augustine says. But Vincent is conscious of another motive also: - - "Verily how great is even the humblest beauty of this world, and how - pleasing to the eye of reason diligently considering not only the - modes and numbers and orders of things, so decorously appointed - throughout the universe, but also the revolving ages which are - ceaselessly uncoiled through abatements and successions, and are - marked by the death of what is born. I confess, sinner as I am, with - mind befouled in flesh, that I am moved with spiritual sweetness - toward the creator and ruler of this world, and honour Him with - greater veneration, when I behold at once the magnitude, and beauty - and permanence of His creation. For the mind, lifting itself from the - dunghill of its affections, and rising, as it is able, into the light - of speculation, sees as from a height the greatness of the universe - containing in itself infinite places filled with the divers orders of - creatures." - -Here Vincent feels it well to apologize for the limitlessness of his -matter, being only an excerptor, and not really knowing even a single -science; and he refers to the example of Isidore's _Etymologiae_. He -proceeds to enumerate the various sources upon which he relies, and then -to summarize the headings of his work; which in brief are as follows: - - The Creator. - - The empyrean heaven and the nature of angels; the state of the good, - and the ruin of the proud, angels. - - The formless material and the making of the world, and the nature and - properties of each created being, according to the order of the Works - of the Six Days. - - The state of the first man. - - The nature and energies of the soul, and the senses and parts of the - human body. - - God's rest and way of working. - - The state of the first man and the felicity of Paradise. - - Man's fall and punishment. - - Sin. - - The reparation of the Fall. - - The properties of faith and other virtues in order, and the gifts of - the Holy Spirit, and the beatitudes. - - _The number and matter of all the sciences._ - - _Chronological history of events in the world, and memorable sayings, - from the beginning to our time_, with a consideration of the state of - souls separated from their bodies, of the times to come, of - Antichrist, the end of the World, the resurrection of the dead, the - glorification of the saints and the punishments of the wicked. - -One may stand aghast at the programme. Yet practically all of it would go -into a _Summa theologiae_, excepting the human history, and the matter of -what we should call the arts and sciences! A programme like this might be -handled summarily, according to the broad captions under which it is -stated; or it might be carried out in such detail as to include all -available information, or opinion, touching every part of every topic -included under these universal heads. The latter is Vincent's way. -Practically he tries to include all knowledge upon everything. The first -of his tomes (the _Speculum naturale_) is to be devoted to a full -description of the forms and species of created beings, which make up the -visible world. Yet it includes much relating to beings commonly invisible; -for Vincent begins with a treatment of the angels. He then passes to a -consideration of the seven heavens; and then to the physical phenomena of -nature; then on to every known species of plant, the cultivation of trees -and vines, and the making of wine; then to the celestial bodies, and after -this to living things, birds, fishes, savage beasts, reptiles, the anatomy -of animals,--and at last comes to man. He discusses him body and soul, his -psychology, and the phenomena of sleep and waking; then human anatomy--nor -can he keep from considerations touching the whole creation; then human -generation, and a description of the countries and regions of the earth, -with a brief compendium of history until the time of Antichrist and the -Last Judgment. Of course he is utterly uncritical, even the -pseudo-Turpin's fictions as to Charlemagne serving him for authority. - -Vincent's Prologue to his second tome, the _Speculum doctrinale_, briefly -mentions the topics of the _tota naturalis historia_, contained in his -first giant tome. In that he had brought his matter down to God's creation -of _humana natura, omnium rerum finis ac summa_--and its spoliation -(_destitutio_) through sin. _Humana natura_ as constituted by God, was a -_universitas_ of all nature or created being, corporeal and spiritual. Now - - "in this second part, in like fashion we propose to treat of the - plenary restitution of that destitute nature.... And since that - restitution, or restoration, is effected and perfected by _doctrina_ - (imparted knowledge, science), this part not improperly is called the - _Speculum doctrinale_. For of a surety everything pertaining to - recovering or defending man's spiritual or temporal welfare - (_salutem_) is embraced under _doctrina_. In this book, the sciences - (_doctrinae_) and arts are treated thus: First concerning all of them - in general, to wit, concerning their invention, origin, and species; - and concerning the method of acquiring them. Then concerning the - singular arts and sciences in particular. And here first concerning - those of the Trivium, which are devoted to language (grammar, - rhetoric, logic); for without these, the others cannot be learned or - communicated. Next concerning the practical ones (_practica_), because - through them, the eyes of the mind being clarified, one ascends to the - speculative (_theorica_). Then also concerning the mechanical ones; - since, as they consist in making (_operatio_), they are joined by - affinity to the _practica_. Finally concerning the speculative - sciences (_theorica_), because the end and aim (_finis_) of all the - rest is placed by the wise in them. And since (as Jerome says) one - cannot know the power (_vis_) of the antidote unless the power of the - poison first is understood, therefore to the _reparatio doctrinalis_ - of the human race, the subject of the book, something is prefixed as a - brief epilogue from the former book, concerning the fall and misery of - man, in which he still labours, as the penalty for his sin, in - lamentable exile." - -So Vincent begins with the fall and misery of man; the _peccatum_ and the -_supplicium_. Then he proceeds to discuss the goods (_bona_) which God -bestows, like the mental powers, by which man may learn wisdom, and how to -strive against error and vice, and be overcome solely by the desire of the -highest and immutable good. He speaks also of the corporeal goods bestowed -on man, and the beauty and utility of visible things; and then of the -principal evils;--ignorance which corrupts the divine image in man, -concupiscence which destroys the divine similitude, sickness which -destroys his original bodily immortality. "And the remedies are three by -which these three evils may be repelled, and the three goods restored, to -wit, Wisdom, Virtue, and Need." - -Here we touch the gist of the ordering of topics in the _Speculum -doctrinale_, which treats of all the arts and sciences: - - "For the obtaining of these three remedies every art and every - _disciplina_ was invented. In order to gain Wisdom, _Theorica_ was - devised; and _Practica_ for the sake of virtue; and for Need's sake, - _Mechanica_. _Theorica_ driving out ignorance, illuminates Wisdom; - _Practica_ shutting out vice, strengthens Virtue; _Mechanica_ - providing against penury, tempers the infirmities of the present life. - _Theorica_, in all that is and that is not, chooses to investigate the - true. _Practica_ determines the correct way of living and the form of - discipline, according to the institution of the virtues. _Mechanica_ - occupied with fleeting things, strives to provide for the needs of the - body. For the end and aim of all human actions and studies, which - reason regulates, ought to look either to the reparation of the - integrity of our nature or to alleviating the needs to which life is - subjected. The integrity of our nature is repaired by Wisdom, to which - _Theorica_ relates, and by Virtue, which _Practica_ cultivates. Need - is alleviated by the administration of temporalities, to which - _Mechanica_ attends. Last found of all is Logic, source of eloquence, - through which the wise who understand the aforesaid principal sciences - and disciplines, may discourse upon them more correctly, truly and - elegantly; more correctly, through Grammar; more truly through - Dialectic; more elegantly through Rhetoric."[444] - -Thus the entire round of arts and sciences is connected with man's -corporeal and spiritual welfare, and is made to bear directly or -indirectly on his salvation. All constitutes _doctrina_, and by _doctrina_ -man is saved. This is the reason for including the arts and sciences in -one tome, rightly called the _Speculum doctrinale_. We need not follow the -detail, but may view as from afar the long course ploughed by Vincent -through his matter. He first sketches the history of antique philosophy, -and then turns to books and language, and presents a glossary of Latin -synonyms. Book II. treats of Grammar, Book III. of Logic, Book IV. of -_Practica scientia_ or _Ethica_, first giving pagan ethics and then -passing on to the virtues of the monastic life. Book V. is a continuation -of this subject. Book VI. concerns the _Scientia oeconomica_, treating of -domestic economy, then of agriculture. Books VII. and VIII. take up -Politica, and, having discussed political institutions, proceed to a -treatment of law--the law of persons, things, and actions, according to -the canon and the civil law. Books IX. and X. consider Crimes--simony, -heresy, perjury, sacrilege, homicide, rape, adultery, robbery, usury. Book -XI. is more cheerful, _De arte mechanica_, and tells of building, the -military art, navigation, alchemy, and metals. Book XII. is Medicine, and -Books XIII. and XIV. discuss Physics, in connection with the healing art. -Book XV. is Natural Philosophy--animals and plants. Book XVI., _De -mathematica_, treats of arithmetic, music, geometry, astronomy, and -metaphysics cursorily. Book XVII. likewise thins out in a somewhat slight -discussion of Theology, which was to form the topic of the tome that -Vincent did not write. - -But Vincent did complete another tome, the _Speculum historiale_. It is a -loosely chronological compilation of tradition, myth, and history, with -discursions upon the literary works of the characters coming under review. -It would be tedious to follow its excerpted presentation of the profane -and sacred matter. - -We may leave Vincent, with the obvious reflection that his work is a -conglomerate, both in arrangement and contents. It has the pious aim of -contributing to man's salvation, and yet is an attempted universal -encyclopaedia of human knowledge, much of which is plainly secular and -mundane. The monstrous scope and dual purpose of the work prevented any -unity in method and arrangement. More single in aim, and better arranged -in consequence, are the _Sentences_ of Peter Lombard and the _Summa -theologiae_ of Aquinas. For although their scope, at least the scope of -the _Summa_, is wide, all is ordered with respect to the true aim of -_sacra doctrina_, just as Thomas explained in the passage which we have -already given. - -The alleged principle of the Lombard's division strikes one as curious; -yet he got it from Augustine: _Signum_ and _res_--the symbol and the -thing: verily an age-long play of spiritual tendency lay back of these -contrasted concepts. Christian _doctrina_ related, perhaps chiefly, to the -significance of _signa_, signs, symbols, allegories, mysteries, -sacraments. It was not so strange that the Lombard made this antithesis -the ground of his arrangement. Quite as of course he begins by saying it -is clear to any one who considers, with God's grace, that the "contents of -the Old and New Law are occupied either with _res_ or _signa_. For as the -eminent doctor Augustine says in his _Doctrina Christiana_, all teaching -is of things or signs; but things also are learned through signs. Properly -those are called _res_ which are not employed in order to signify -something; while _signa_ are those whose use is to signify." Then the -Lombard separates the sacraments from other _signa_, because they not only -signify, but also confer saving aid; and he points out that evidently a -_signum_ is also some sort of a thing; but not everything is a _signum_. -He will treat first of _res_ and then of _signa_. - -As to _res_, one must bear in mind, as Augustine says, that some things -are to be enjoyed (_fruendum_), as from love we cleave to them for their -own sake; and others are to be used (_utendum_) as a means; and still -others to be both enjoyed and used. - - "Those which are to be enjoyed make us blessed (_beatos_); those which - are to be used, aid us striving for blessedness.... We ourselves are - the things which are both to be enjoyed and used, and also the angels - and the saints.... The things which are to be enjoyed are Father, Son, - and Holy Spirit; and so the Trinity is _summa res_." - -So the Lombard's first two Books consider _res_ in the descending order of -their excellence; the third considers the Incarnation, which, if not -itself a sacrament, and the chief and sum of all sacraments, is the source -of those of the New Law, considered in the fourth Book. The scheme is -single and orderly; the difficulty will be in actually arranging the -various topics within it. Endeavouring to do so, the Lombard in Book I. -puts together the doctrine of the Trinity, the three Persons composing it, -and their attributes and qualities. Book II. considers in order, the -Angels, and very briefly, the work of the Six Days down to the creation of -man; then the Christian _doctrina_ as to man is presented: his creation -and its reasons; the creation of his _anima_; the creation of woman; the -condition of man and woman before the Fall; their sin; next free-will and -grace. Book III. treats of the Incarnation, in all the aspects in which it -may be known, and of the nature of Christ, His saving merit, and the grace -which was in Him; also of the virtues of faith, hope, and charity, the -seven gifts of the Spirit, and the existence of them all in Christ. Book -IV. considers the Sacraments of the New Law: Baptism, Confirmation, the -Eucharist, penance, extreme unction, ordination to holy orders, marriage. -It concludes with setting forth the Resurrection and the Last Judgment. - -The first chapters of Genesis were the ultimate source of the Lombard's -actual arrangement. And the _Summa_ will follow the same order of -treatment. One may perceive how naturally the adoption of this order came -to Christian theologians by glancing over Augustine's _De Genesi ad -litteram_.[445] This Commentary was partially constructive, and not simply -exegetical; and afforded a _cadre_, or frame, of topical ordering, which -could readily be filled out with the contents of the _Sentences_ or even -of the _Summa_: God, in His unity and trinity, the Creation, man -especially, his fall, the Incarnation as the saving means of his -restoration, and then the Sacraments, and the final Judgment unto heaven -and hell. One may say that this was the natural and proper order of -presenting the contents of the Christian _sacra doctrina_. - -So the great _Summa theologiae_ of Thomas Aquinas adopts the same order -which the Lombard had followed. The _Pars prima_ begins with defining -_sacra doctrina_.[446] It then proceeds to consider God--whether He -exists; then treats of His _simplicitas_ and _perfectio_; next of His -attributes; His _bonitas_, _infinitas_, _immutabilitas_, _aeternitas_, -_unitas_; then of our knowledge of Him; then of His knowledge, and therein -of truth and falsity; thereupon are considered the divine will, love, -justice, and pity; the divine providence and predestination; the divine -power and beatitude. - -All this pertains to the _unitas_ of the divine essence; and now Thomas -passes on to the _Trinitas personarum_, or the more distinctive portions -of Christian theology. He treats of the _processio_ and _relationes_ of -the _divinae Personae_, and then of themselves--Father, Son, Holy Spirit, -and then of their essential relationship and properties. Next he discusses -the _missio_ of the divine Persons, and the relations between God and His -Creation. First comes the consideration of the principle of creation, the -_processio creaturarum a Deo_, and of the nature of created things, with -some discussion of evil, whether it be a thing. - -Among created beings, Thomas treats first of angels, and at great length; -then of the physical creation, in its order--the work of the six days, but -with no great detail. Then man, created of spiritual and corporeal -substance--his complex nature is to be analysed and fathomed to its -depths. Thomas discusses the union of the _anima ad corpus_; then the -powers of the anima, _in generali_ and _in speciali_--the intellectual -faculties, the appetites, the will and its freedom of choice; how the -_anima_ knows--the full Aristotelian theory of cognition is given. Next, -more specifically as to the creation of the soul and body of the first -man, and the nature of the image and similitude of God within him; then as -to man's condition and faculties while in a state of innocence; also as to -Paradise. - -This closes the treatment of the _creatio et distinctio rerum_; and Thomas -passes to their _gubernatio_, and the problem of how God conserves and -moves the corporeal and spiritual; then concerning the action of one -creature on another, and how the angels are ranged in hierarchies, and -although purely spiritual beings, minister to men and guard them; then -concerning the action of corporeal things, concerning fate, and the action -of men upon men. - -Here ends _Pars prima_. The first section of the second part (_Prima -secundae_) begins. In a short Prologue Thomas says: - - "Because man is made in the image of God, that is, free in his thought - and will, and able to act through himself (_per se potestativum_), - after what has been said concerning the Exemplar, God, and everything - proceeding from the divine power according to His will, it remains for - us to consider His image, to wit, man, in so far as he is the source - or cause (_principium_) of his own works, having free-will and power - over them." - -Hereupon Thomas takes up in order: the ultimate end of man; the nature of -man's beatitude, and wherein it consists, and how it may be attained; then -voluntary and involuntary acts, and the nature and action of will; then -fruition, intention, election, deliberation, consent, and actions good and -bad, flowing from the will; then the passions; concupiscence and pleasure, -sadness, hope and despair, fear, anger; next habits (_habitus_) and the -virtues, intellectual, cardinal, theological; the gifts of the Spirit, and -the beatitudes; the vices, and sin, and penalty. Thereupon it becomes -proper to consider the external causes (_principia_) of acts: "The -external cause (_principium_) moving toward good is God; who instructs us -through law, and aids us through grace. Therefore we must speak, first of -law, then of grace." So Thomas discusses: the _essentia_ of law, and the -different kinds of law--_lex aeterna_, _lex naturalis_, _lex -humana_--their effect and validity; then the precepts of the Old Law (of -the Old Testament); then as to the law of the Gospel and the need of -grace; and lastly, concerning grace and human merit. - -The _Secunda secundae_ (the second division of the second part) opens with -a Prologue, in which the author says that, having considered generally the -virtues and vices, and other things pertaining to the matter of ethics, it -is needful to consider these same matters more particularly, each in turn; -"for general moral statements (_sermones morales universales_) are less -useful, inasmuch as actions are always _in particularibus_." A more -special statement of moral rules may proceed in two ways: the one from the -side of the moral material, discussing this or that virtue or vice; the -other considers what applies to special orders (_speciales status_) of -men, for instance prelates and the lower clergy, or men devoted to the -active or contemplative religious life. "We shall, therefore, consider -specially, first what applies to all conditions of men, and then what -applies to certain orders (_determinatos status_)." Thomas adds that it -will be best to consider in each case the virtue and corresponding gift, -and the opposing vice, together; also that "virtues are reducible to -seven, the three theological,[447] and the four cardinal virtues. Of the -intellectual virtues, one is Prudence, which is numbered with the cardinal -virtues; but ars does not pertain to morals, which relate to what is to be -done, while ars is the correct faculty of making things (_recta ratio -factibilium_).[448] The other three intellectual virtues, _sapientia_, -_intellectus_, _et scientia_, bear the names of certain gifts of the Holy -Spirit, and are considered with them. Moral virtues are all reducible to -the cardinal virtues; and therefore, in considering each cardinal virtue, -all the virtues related to it are considered, and the opposite vices." - -This classification of the virtues seems anything but clear. And perhaps -the weakest feature of the _Summa_ is this scarcely successful ordering, -or combination, of the Aristotelian virtues with those more germane to the -Christian scheme. However this may be, the author of the _Summa_ proceeds -to consider in order: _fides_, and the gifts (_dona_) of _intellectus_ and -_scientia_ which correspond to the virtue faith; next the opposing vices: -_infidelitas_, _haeresis_, _apostasia_, _blasphemia_, and _caecitas -mentis_ (spiritual blindness). Next in order come the virtue _spes_, and -the corresponding gift of the Spirit, _timor_, and the opposing vices of -_desperatio_ and _praesumptio_.[449] Next, _caritas_, with its _dilectio_, -its _gaudium_, its _pax_, its _misericordia_, its _beneficentia_ and -_eleemosyna_, and its _correctio fraterna_; then the opposite vices, -_odium_, _acedia_, _invidia_, _discordia_, _contentio_, _schisma_, -_bellum_, _rixa_, _seditio_, _scandalum_. Next the _donum sapientiae_, and -its opposite, _stultitia_; next, _prudentia_, and its correspondent gift, -_consilium_; and its connected vices, _imprudentia_, _negligentia_, and -its evil semblances, _dolus_ and _fraus_. - -Says Thomas: _Consequenter post prudentiam considerandum est de Justitia_. -Whereupon follows a juristic treatment of _jus_, _justitia_, _judicium_, -_restitutio_, _acceptio personarum_; then _homicide_ and other crimes -recognized by law. Then come the virtues, connected with _justitia_, to -wit, _religio_, and its acts, _devotio_, _oratio_, _adoratio_, -_sacrificium_, _oblatio_, _decimae_, _votum_, _juramentum_; then the vices -opposed to _religio_: _superstitio_, _idolatria_, _tentatio Dei_, -_perjurium_, _sacrilegium_, _simonia_. Next is considered the virtue of -_pietas_; then _observantia_, with its parts, i.e. _dulia_ (service), -_obedientia_, and its opposite, _inobedientia_. Next, _gratia_ (thanks) or -_gratitudo_, and its opposite, _ingratitudo_; next, _vindicatio_ -(punishment); next, _veritas_, with its opposites, _hypocrisis_, -_jactantia_ (boasting), and _ironia_; next, _amicitia_, with the vices of -_adulatio_ and _litigium_. Next, the virtue of _liberalitas_, and its -vices, _avaritia_ and _prodigalitas_; next, _epieikeia_ (_aequitas_). -Finally, closing this discussion of all that is connected with _Justitia_, -Thomas speaks of its corresponding gift of the Spirit, _pietas_. - -Now comes the third cardinal virtue, _Fortitudo_--under which _martyrium_ -is the type of virtuous act; _intimiditas_ and _audacia_ are the two -vices. Then the parts of _Fortitudo_, to wit, _magnanimitas_, -_magnificentia_, _patientia_, _perseverantia_, and the obvious opposing -vices. Next, the fourth cardinal virtue, _Temperantia_, its obvious -opposing vices, and its parts, to wit, _verecundia_, _honestas_, -_abstinentia_, _sobrietas_, _castitas_, _clementia_, _modestia_, -_humilitas_, and the various appropriate acts and opposing vices related -to these special virtues. - -So far,[450] Thomas has been considering the virtues proper for all men; -and now he comes to those specially pertaining to certain kinds of men, -according to their gifts of grace, their modes of life, or the diversity -of their offices, or stations. Of the special virtues related to gifts of -grace, the first is _prophetia_, next _raptus_ (vision), then _gratia -linguarum_, and _gratia miraculorum_. After this, the _vita activa_ and -_contemplativa_, with their appropriate virtues, are considered. And then -Thomas proceeds to speak _De officiis et statibus hominum_, and their -respective virtues. - -Here ends the _Secunda secundae_, and _Pars tertia_ opens with this -Prologue: - - "Inasmuch as our Saviour Jesus Christ (as witnesseth the Angel, - _populum suum salvum faciens a peccatis eorum_) has shown in himself - the way of truth, through which we are able to come to the beatitude - of immortal life by rising again, it is necessary, for the - consummation of the whole theological matter, after the consideration - of the final end of human life, and of the virtues and vices, that our - attention should be fixed upon the Saviour of all and His benefactions - to the human race. - - "As to which, first one must consider the Saviour himself; secondly, - His sacraments, by which we obtain salvation; thirdly, concerning the - end (_finis_), immortal life, to which we come by rising again through - Him. - - "As to the first, one has to consider the mystery of the Incarnation, - in which God was made man for our salvation, and then those things - that were done and suffered by our Saviour, that is, God incarnate." - -This Prologue indicates sufficiently the order of topics in the _Pars -tertia_ of the _Summa_, through Quaestio xc., at which point the hand of -the Angelic Doctor was folded to eternal rest. He was then considering -_penance_, the fourth in his order of Sacraments. All that he had to say -as to the person, and attributes, and acts and passion of Christ had been -written; and he had considered the Sacraments of baptism, confirmation, -and the eucharist; he was occupied with _poenitentia_; and still other -sacraments remained, as well as his final treatment of the matters which -lie beyond the grave. So he left his work unfinished, and, in spite of -many efforts, unfinishable by any of his pupils or successors.[451] - - -II - -Inasmuch as the matter of their thoughts was transmitted to the men of the -Middle Ages, and was not drawn from their own observation or constructive -reasoning, the fundamental intellectual endeavour for mediaeval men was to -apprehend and make their own, and re-express. Their intellectual progress -followed this process of appropriation, and falls into three -stages--learning, organically appropriating, and re-expressing with added -elements of thought. Logically, and generally in time, these three stages -were successive. Yet, of course, they overlapped, and may be observed -progressing simultaneously. Thus, for example, what was known of Aristotle -at the beginning of the twelfth century was slight compared with the -knowledge of his philosophy that was opened to western Europe in the -latter part of the twelfth and the beginning of the thirteenth. And while, -by the middle of the twelfth century, the elements of Aristotle's logic -had been thoroughly appropriated, the substantial Aristotelian philosophy -had still to be learned and mastered, before it could be reformulated and -re-expressed as part of mediaeval thought. - -Looking solely to the outer form, the three stages of mediaeval thought -are exemplified in the Scriptural Commentary of the later Carolingian -time, in the twelfth-century _Books of Sentences_, and at last in the more -organic _Summa theologiae_. With this significant evolution and change of -outer form, proceeded the more substantial evolution consisting in -learning, appropriating, and re-expressing the inherited material. In both -cases, these three stages were necessitated by the greatness of the -transmitted matter; for the intellectual energies of the mediaeval period -were fully occupied with mastering the data proffered so pressingly, with -presenting and re-presenting this superabundant material, and recasting it -in new forms of statement, which were also expressions, or realizations, -of the mediaeval genius. So the mediaeval product may be regarded as given -by the past, and by the same token necessitated and controlled. But, on -the other hand, each stage of intellectual progress rendered possible the -next one. - -The first stage of learning is represented by the Carolingian period, -which we have considered. It was then that the patristic material was -extracted from the writings of the Fathers, and rearranged and reapplied, -to meet the needs of the time. The mastery of this material had scarcely -made such vital progress as to enable the men of the ninth and tenth and -eleventh centuries to re-express it largely in terms of their own -thinking. In the ninth century, Eriugena affords an extraordinary -exception with his drastic restatement of what he had drawn from -Pseudo-Dionysius and others; and at the end comes Anselm, whose genius is -metaphysically constructive. But Anselm touches the coming time; and the -springs of Eriugena's genius are hidden from us. - -As for the antique thought during these Carolingian centuries, Eriugena -dealt in his masterful way with what he knew of it through patristic and -semi-patristic channels. But let us rather seek it in the curriculum of -the Trivium and Quadrivium. What progress Gerbert made in the Quadrivium, -that is, in the various branches of mathematics which he taught, has been -noted, and to what extent his example was followed by his pupil Fulbert, -at the cathedral school of Chartres.[452] The courses of the -Trivium--grammar, rhetoric, logic--demand our closer attention; for they -were the key of the situation. We must keep in mind that we are -approaching mediaeval thought from the side of the innate human need of -intellectual expression--the impulse to know and the need to formulate -one's conceptions and express them consistently. For mediaeval men the -first indispensable means to this end was grammar, including rhetoric, and -the next was logic or dialectic. The Latin language contained the sum of -knowledge transmitted to the Middle Ages. And it had to be learned. This -was true even in Italy and Spain and France, where each year the current -ways of Romance speech were departing more definitely from the parent -stock; it was more patently true in the countries of Teutonic speech. -Centuries before, the Roman youth had studied grammar that they might -speak and write correctly. Now it was necessary to study Latin grammar, to -wit, the true forms and literary usages of the Latin tongue, in order to -acquire any branch of knowledge whatsoever, and express one's -corresponding thoughts. And men would not at first distinguish sharply -between the mediating value of the learned tongue and the learning which -it held.[453] - -Thus grammar, the study of the Latin language, represented the first stage -of knowledge for mediaeval men. This was to remain true through all the -mediaeval centuries; since all youths who became scholars had to learn the -language before they could study what was contained in it alone. One may -also say, and yet not speak fantastically, that grammar, the study of the -correct use of the language itself, corresponded spiritually with the main -intellectual labour of the Carolingian period. Alcuin's attention is -commonly fixed upon the significance of language, Latin of course. And the -labours of his pupil Rabanus, and the latter's pupil Walafrid, are as it -were devoted to the grammar of learning. That is to say, they read and -endeavour to understand the works of the Fathers; they compare and -collate, and make volumes of extracts, which they arrange for the most -part as Scripture commentaries; commentaries, that is, upon the -significance of the canonical writings which were the substance of all -wisdom, but needed much explication. Such works were the very grammar of -knowledge, being devoted to the exposition of the meaning of the -Scriptures and the vast burden of patristic thought. A like purpose was -evinced in the efforts of the great emperor himself to re-establish -schools of grammar, in order that the Scriptures might be more correctly -understood, and the expositions of the holy Fathers. In fine, just as -knowledge of the Latin tongue was the end and aim of grammar, so a correct -understanding of what was contained in Latin books was the aim of the -intellectual labours of this period. It all represented the first stage in -the mediaeval acquisition of knowledge, or in the presentation or -expression of the same; and thus the first stage in the mediaeval -endeavour to realize the human impulse to know. - -The next course of the Trivium was logic; and likewise its study will -represent truly the second stage in the mediaeval realization of the human -impulse to know, to wit, the second stage in the appropriation and -expression of the knowledge transmitted from the past. We have spoken at -some length of the logical studies of Gerbert, and his endeavours to -adjust his thinking and classify the branches of knowledge by means of -formal logic.[454] Those discussions of his which seem somewhat puerile to -us, were essential to his endeavours to formulate what he had learned, and -present it as rational and ordered knowledge. Logic is properly the stage -succeeding grammar in the formulation of rational knowledge. At least it -was for men of Gerbert's time, and the following centuries. Rightly -enough they looked on logic as a _scientia sermotionalis_, which on one -side touched sheer linguistics, and on the other, had for its field the -further processes of reason. Thus Hugo of St. Victor, Abaelard's very -great contemporary, says: - - "Logic is named from the Greek word _logos_, which has a twofold - interpretation. For _logos_ means either _sermo_ or _ratio_; and - therefore logic may be termed either a _scientia sermotionalis_ or a - _scientia rationalis_. _Logica rationalis_ embraces dialectic and - rhetoric, and is called _discretiva_ (argumentative and exercising - judgment); _logica sermotionalis_ is the genus which includes grammar, - dialectic and rhetoric, to wit, discursive science - (_disertiva_)."[455] - -The close connection between grammar and logic is evident. Logic treats of -language used in rational expression, as well as of the reasoning -processes carried on in language. Its elementary chapters teach a rational -use of language, whereby men may reach a more deeply consistent expression -of their thoughts than is gained from grammar. Yet grammar also is logic, -and based on logical principles. All this is exemplified in the logical -treatises composing the Aristotelian _Organon_, which the Middle Ages -used. First comes Porphyry's _Isagoge_, which clearly is bound up in -language. Likewise Aristotle's _Categories_ treat of the rational and -consistent use of language, or of what may be stated in language. Next it -is obvious that the _De interpretatione_ treats of language used to -express thought, its generic function. The more advanced treatises of the -_Organon_, the _Prior_ and _Posterior Analytics_, the _Topics_, and -_Sophistical Elenchi_, treat directly and elaborately of the reasoning -processes themselves. So one perceives the grammatical affinities of the -simpler treatises in the _Organon_. The more advanced ones seem to stand -to them as oratorical rhetoric stands to elementary grammar. For the -_Analytics_, _Topics_, and _Sophistical Elenchi_ are a kind of _eristic_, -training the student to use the processes of thought and their expression -in order to attain an end, commonly argumentative. The prior treatises -have taught the elements, as it were the orthography and etymology of the -rational expression of thought in language; the latter (even as syntax and -rhetoric), train the student in the use of these elements. And one -observes a nice historical fitness in the fact that only the simpler -treatises of the _Organon_ were in common use in the early Middle Ages, -since they alone were necessary to the first stage in the appropriation of -the substance of patristic and antique thought. The full _Organon_ was -rediscovered, and retaken into use in the middle or latter part of the -twelfth century, when men had progressed to a more organic appropriation -of the patristic material and what they knew of the antique philosophy. - -Thus in mediaeval education, and in the successive order of appropriating -the patristic and the antique, logic stood on grammar's shoulders. It was -grammar's rationalized stage, and treated language as the means of -expressing thought consistently and validly; that is, so as not to -contravene the necessities of that whereof it was the vehicle. And since -language thus treated was in accord with rational thought, it would accord -with the realities to which thought corresponds; and might be taken as -expressing _them_. This last reflection introduces metaphysics. - -And properly. For the three stages in the mediaeval appropriation and -expression of knowledge were grammar, logic, metaphysics. Logic has to do -with the processes of thought; with the positing of premises and the -drawing of the conclusion. It does not necessarily consider whether the -contents of its premises represent realities. This is matter for ontology, -metaphysics. Now mediaeval metaphysics, which were those of Greek -philosophy, were extremely pre-Kantian, in assuming a correspondence -between the necessities or conclusions of thought and the supreme -realities, God and the Universe. Nor did mediaeval logic doubt that its -processes could elucidate and express the veritable natures of things. So -mediaeval logic readily wandered into the province of metaphysics, and -ignored the line between the two. - -Yet there is little metaphysics in the _Organon_; none in its simpler -treatises. So there was none in the elementary logical instruction of the -schools before the twelfth century at least.[456] One may always -distinguish between logic and metaphysics; and it is to our purpose to do -so here. For as we have taken logic to represent the second stage in the -mediaeval appropriation of knowledge, so metaphysics, poised in turn on -logic's shoulders, is very representative of the third stage, to wit, the -stage of systematic and organic re-expression of the ancient matter, with -elements added by the great schoolmen. - -Metaphysics was very properly the final stage. The grammatical represented -an elementary learning of what the past had transmitted; the logical a -further retrying of the matter, an attempt to understand and express it, -formulate parts of it anew, with deeper consistency of expression. Then -follows the attempt for final and universal consistency: final inasmuch as -thought penetrates to the nature of things and expresses realities and the -relationships of realities; and universal, in that it seeks to order and -systematize all its concepts, and bring them to unity in a _Summa_--a -perfected scheme of rational presentation of God and His creation. This -will be, largely speaking, the final endeavour of the mediaeval man to -ease his mind, and realize _his_ impulse to know and express himself with -uttermost consistency. - -So for mediaeval men, metaphysics stood on logic's shoulders and -represented the final completion of their thought, in a universal system -and scheme of God and man and things.[457] But the first part of this -proposition had not been true with Greek philosophy. Metaphysics is -properly occupied with being, in its ultimate essence and relationships; -with the consistent putting together of things, to wit, the presentation -or expression of them so as not to disagree with any of the data -recognized as pertinent. The thinker considers profoundly, seeking to -penetrate the ultimate reality and relationships of things, through which -a universal whole is constituted. This makes ontology, metaphysics--the -science of being, of causes, and so the science of the first Cause, God. -Aristotle called this the "first" philosophy, because lying at the base of -all branches of knowledge, and depending on nothing beyond itself. Some -time after his death, the Peripatetics and then the Neo-Platonists called -this first science by the name of Metaphysics, "after" or "beyond" -physics, if one will, perhaps because of the actual order of treatment in -the schools. - -The term Metaphysics is vague enough; either "first" philosophy or -"ontology" is preferable. Yet as to Greek philosophy the term has apt -historical suggestiveness. For it did come after physics in time, and was -in fact evoked by the imperfect method and consequent contradictions of -the earlier philosophies. From the beginning, Greek philosophy drove -straight at the cause or origin of things--surely the central problem of -metaphysics. Thales and the other Ionians began with rational, though -crude, hypotheses as to the sources of the universe. These were first -attempts to reach a consistent expression of its origin and nature. Each -succeeding philosopher considered further, from the vantage-ground of the -recognized inconsistencies or inadequacies in the theories of his -predecessors. He was thus led on to consider more profoundly the essential -relationships of things, the very truth of their relationships, and on and -on into the problem of their being. For the verity of relations must be -according to the verity of being of the things related. The world about us -consists in relationships, of antecedents and sequences, of cause and -effect; and our thought of it is made up of consistencies or -contradictions, which last we struggle to eliminate, or to transform to -consistencies. - -These early philosophers looked only to the Aristotelian material cause -for the origin and cause of things; yet reflection plunged them deeper -into a consideration of the nature of being and relationships. The other -causes were evoked by Anaxagoras and then by Plato, and by them were led -into the arena of debate; and philosophers discussed the efficient and -final cause as well as the material. Such discussions are recognized by -Plato, and finally by Aristotle as relating to the first principles of -cognition and being, and so as constituting metaphysics. The constant -search for a deeper consistency of explanation had led on and on through a -manifold consideration of those palpable relationships which make up the -visible world; it had disclosed the series of necessary assumptions -required by those visible relationships; and thus the search for causality -and origins, and essential relationships, became one and the -same--metaphysics. - -Metaphysics was not ineptly called so, since it had in time come after the -cruder physical hypotheses. But such was not the order of _mediaeval_ -intellectual progress. The Middle Ages passed through no preliminary -course of physical hypotheses, explanatory of the universe. Not physics, -but logic (introduced by grammar) led up to the final construction--or -rather adoption and reconstruction--of ultimate hypotheses as to God and -man, led up to the all-ordering and all-compassing _Theologia_. -_Metalogics_, rather than Metaphysics, would be the proper name for these -final expressions or actualizations of the mediaeval impulse to know. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI - -TWELFTH-CENTURY SCHOLASTICISM - - I. THE PROBLEM OF UNIVERSALS: ABAELARD. - - II. THE MYSTIC STRAIN: HUGO AND BERNARD. - - III. THE LATER DECADES: BERNARD SILVESTRIS; GILBERT DE LA PORREE; - WILLIAM OF CONCHES; JOHN OF SALISBURY, AND ALANUS OF LILLE. - - -I - -From the somewhat elaborate general considerations which have occupied the -last two chapters, we turn to the representative manifestations of -mediaeval thought in the twelfth century. These belong in part to the -second or "logical," and in part to the third or "meta-logical," stage of -the mediaeval mind. The first or "grammatical" stage was represented by -the Carolingian period; and in reviewing the mental aspects of the -eleventh century, we entered upon the second stage, that of logic, or -dialectic, to use the more specific mediaeval term. Toward the close of -the tenth century Gerbert was found strenuously occupying himself with -logic, and using it as a means of ordering the branches of knowledge. At -the end of the eleventh, Anselm has not only considered certain logical -problems, but has vaulted over into constructive metaphysical theology. -Looking back over Anselm's work, from the vantage-ground of the twelfth -century's further reflections, one may be conscious of a certain genial -youthfulness in his reliance upon single arguments, noble and beautiful -soarings of the spirit, which however pay little regard to the firmness of -the premises from which they spring, and still less to a number of -cognate and pertinent considerations, which the twelfth century was to -analyze. - -Anselm's thoughts perhaps overleaped logic. At all events he appears only -occasionally absorbed with its formal problems. Yet he lived in a time of -dawning logical controversy. Roscellin was even then blowing up the -problem of universals, a problem occasioned by the entering of mediaeval -thought upon the "logical" stage of its appropriation of the patristic and -antique. - -The problem of universals, or general ideas, from the standpoint of logic, -lies at the basis of consistent thinking. It reverts to the time when -Aristotle's assertion of the pre-eminently real existence of individuals -broke away from the Platonic doctrine of Ideas. For the early mediaeval -philosophers, it took its rise in a famous passage in Porphyry's -Introduction to the _Categories_, the concluding sentence of which, as -translated into Latin by Boethius, puts the question thus: "Mox de -generibus et speciebus illud quidem sive subsistant sive in nudis -intellectibus posita sint, sive subsistentia corporalia sint an -incorporalia, et utrum separata a sensibilibus an in sensibilibus posita -et circa haec consistentia, dicere recusabo." "Next as to _genera_ and -_species_, do they actually exist or are they merely in thought; are they -corporeal or incorporeal existences; are they separate from sensible -things or only in and of them?--I refuse to answer," says Porphyry; "it is -a very lofty business, unsuited to an elementary work." - -Thus, in three pairs of crude alternatives, the question came over to the -early Middle Ages. The men of the Carolingian period took one position or -another, without sensing its difficulties, or observing how it lay athwart -the path of knowledge. Students were not as yet attempting such a dynamic -appropriation of the ancient material as would evoke this veritable -problem of cognition. Even Gerbert at the close of the tenth century was -still so busy with the outer forms and figments of logic that he had no -time to enter on those ulterior problems where logic links itself to -metaphysics. One Roscellin, living and teaching apparently at Besancon in -the latter part of the eleventh century, seems to have been the first to -attack the currently accepted "realism" with some sense of the matter's -thorny intricacies. With his own "nominalistic" position we are acquainted -only through his adversaries, who imputed to him views which a thoughtful -person could hardly have entertained--that universals were merely words -and breath (_flatus vocis_). Roscellin seems at all events to have been a -man strongly held by the reality of individuals, and one who found it -difficult to ascribe a sufficient intellectual actuality to the general -idea as distinguished from the perception of things and the demands of the -concepts of their individual existences. His logical difficulties impelled -him to theological heresy. The unity in the Trinity became an -impossibility; he could only conceive of three beings, just as he might -think of three angels; and he would have spoken of three Gods had usage -not forbidden it, says St. Anselm.[458] As it was, he said enough to draw -on him the condemnation of a Council held at Soissons in 1092, before -which he quailed and recanted. For the remainder of his life he so -constrained the expression of his thoughts as to ensure his safety. - -One may say that Plato's theory of ideas was a metaphysical presentation -of the universe, sounding in conceptions of reality. But for the Middle -Ages, the problem whether genera and species exist when abstracted from -their particulars, sprang from logical controversy. It was a problem of -cognition, cognizance, understanding: how should one understand and -analyze the contents of a statement, _e.g._ Socrates is a man. Moreover, -it was a fundamental and universal problem of cognition; for it was not -merely occupied, like all mental processes, with bringing data to -consistent formulation, but pertained to those processes themselves by -which any and all data are stated or formulated. It touched every -formulation of truth, asking, in fine, how are we to think our statements? -The philosophers of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, however, did not -view this problem as one pertaining to the mind's processes, and as having -to do solely with the understanding of the contents of a statement. -Rather, even as Plato had done, they approached it as if it were a problem -of modes of existence; and for this very reason it had pushed Roscellin -into theological error. - -The discussion was to pass through various stages; and each stage may seem -to us to represent the point reached by the thinker in his analysis of his -conscious meaning in stating a proposition. Moreover, each solution may be -valid for him who gives it, because of its correspondence to the meaning -of his utterances so far as he has analyzed them. But mediaeval men could -not take it in this way. Their intellectual task lay in appropriating, and -in their own way re-expressing, all that had come to them from an -authoritative past. The problem of universals had been stated by a great -authority, who put it as pertaining to the objective reality of genera and -species. How then might mediaeval men take it otherwise, especially when -at all events it pertained in all verity to their endeavour to grasp and -re-express the contents of transmitted truth? It became for a while the -crucial problem, the answer to which might indicate the thinker's general -intellectual attitude. Far from keeping to logic, to the _organon_ or -instrumental part of the mediaeval endeavour to know, it wound itself -through metaphysics and theology. Obviously the thinker's answer to the -problem would bear relation to his thoughts upon the transcendent reality -of spiritual essences. - -The men who first became impressed with the importance of this problem, -gave extreme answers to it, sometimes crassly denying the real existence -of universals, but more often hailing them as antecedent and -all-permeating realities. If Roscellinus took the former position, a pupil -of his, William of Champeaux, held the extreme opposite view, when both he -and the twelfth century were still young. One may, however, bear in mind -that as the views of the older nominalist are reported only by his -enemies, so our knowledge of William's lucubrations comes mainly from the -exacerbated pen of Peter Abaelard. - -William held apparently "that the same thing, in its totality and at the -same time, existed in its single individuals, among which there was no -essential difference, but merely a variety of accidents."[459] Abaelard -appears to have performed a _reductio ad absurdum_ upon this view that the -total genus exists in each individual. He pointed out that in such case -the total genus _homo_ would at the same time exist in Socrates and also -in Plato, when one of them might be in Rome and the other in Athens. "At -this William changed his opinion," continues Abaelard, "and taught that -the genus existed in each individual not _essentialiter_ but -_indifferenter_ or [as some texts read] _individualiter_." Which seems to -mean that William no longer held that the total genus existed in each -individual actually, but "indistinguishably," or "individually." - -And the students flocked away with Abaelard, _he_ also says; and William -fled the lecture chair. William and Peter; shall we say of them _arcades -ambo_? This would be but a harmless depreciation of Abaelard, in the face -of the universal and correct tradition as to his epoch-making intellectual -progressiveness. Indeed it might be well to let the phrase sound in our -ears, just for the reminder's sake, that Abaelard was, like William, a man -of logic, although far more expert both in manipulating the dialectic -processes and in applying them to theology. - -Before endeavouring briefly to reconstruct the intellectual qualities of -Abaelard from his writings, let us see how the famous open letter to a -friend, in giving an apologetic story of the writer's life, discloses the -fatalities of his character. This _Historia calamitatum suarum_ makes it -plain enough why the crises of his life were all of them -catastrophes--even leaving out of view his liaison with Heloise and its -penalty. A fatal impulse to annoy seems to drive him from fate to fate; -the old word of Heraclitus [Greek: ethos anthropo daimon] (character is a -man's genius) was so patently true of him. Much that he said was to -receive orthodox approval after his time. Quite true. It has often been -remarked, that the heresy of one age is the accepted doctrine of the next, -even within the Church. But would the heretic have been _persona grata_ -to the later time? Perhaps not. Peter Abaelard at all events would have -led others and himself a life of thorns in the thirteenth century, or the -fourteenth had he been born again, when some of his methods and opinions -had become accepted commonplace. Did he have an eye for logical and human -truth more piercing than his twelfth-century fellows? Apparently. Was his -need to speak out his truth so much the more imperative than theirs? -Possibly. At all events, he was certainly possessed with an inordinate -impulsion to undo his rivals. He sits down before their fortress walls by -night, and when they see him there, they know not whether they look on -friend or foe--in this auditor. They will find out soon enough. He studied -dialectic under William of Champeaux at Paris, as all men were to know. He -got what William had to teach, and moved on, to lecture in Melun and -elsewhere. Then he returned and sat at William's feet awhile to learn -rhetoric, as he announced. But quickly he rose up, and assailed his -master's doctrine of universals, and overthrew him, as we have seen. The -victim's friends made Abaelard's eristically won lecturer's seat a prickly -one. He left Paris for a while, and then returned and taught on Mount St. -Genevieve, outside the city. - -Up to this time he had not been known to study theology. But in 1113, at -the age of thirty-four, he went to Laon to listen to a famous theologian -named Anselm, who himself had studied at Bec under a greater Anselm. Says -Abaelard in his _Historia calamitatum_: "So I came to this old man, whose -repute was a tradition, rather than merited by talent or learning. Any one -who brought his uncertainties to him, went away more uncertain still! He -was a marvel in the eyes of his hearers, but a nobody before a questioner. -He had a wonderful wordflow, but the sense was contemptible and the -reasoning abject." Well, I didn't listen to him long, Abaelard intimates; -but began to absent myself from his lectures, and was brought to task by -his auditors, to whom jokingly I said, I, too, could lecture on Scripture; -and I was taken up. Nothing loath, the next day I lectured to them on the -passage they had chosen from Ezekiel's obscure prophecies. So, all -unprepared, and trusting in my genius, I began to lecture, at first to -sparse audiences, but they quickly grew. Such is the substance of -Abaelard's own account, and he goes on to tell how "the old man aforesaid -was violently moved with envy," and shortly Abaelard had to take his -lecturings elsewhere. He returned to Paris, and we have the episode of -Heloise, for whom, as his life went on, he evinced a devoted -affection.[460] - -Now he is monk in the abbey of St. Denis; and there again he lectures, and -takes up certain themes against Roscellinus, whom he seems to resurrect -from the quiet of old age to make a target of. This old man, too, hits -back, and other vicious people blow up a cloud of envy, until the gifted -lecturer finds himself an accused before the Council of Soissons, and his -book condemned. Untaught by the burning of his book, Abaelard returns to -his convent, and proceeds to unearth statements of the Venerable Bede -showing that Dionysius the Areopagite who heard Paul preach, was not the -St. Denis who became patron saint of France, and founder of the great -abbey which even now was sheltering a certain Abaelard, and drawing power -and revenue from the fame of its reputed almost apostolic founder. Its -abbot and monks did not care to have the abbey walls undermined by truth, -and Abaelard was hunted forth from among them. - -It was after this that he made for himself a lonely refuge, which he named -the Paraclete, not far from Troyes, and thither again his pupils followed -him in swarms, and built their huts around him in the wilderness. But -still mightier foes--or their phantoms--rise against this hunted head. The -_Historia_ seems to allude to St. Norbert and to St. Bernard. Whatever the -storm was, it was escaped by flight to a remote Breton convent -which--still for his sins!--had chosen Abaelard its abbot. There in due -course they tried to murder him, and again he fled, this time back to his -congenial sphere, the schools of Paris, where he lectured, now at the -summit of fame, to enthusiastic multitudes of students. Some years pass, -and then the pious jackal, William of St. Thierry, rouses his lion Bernard -to contend with Abaelard and crush him, not with dialectic, at the -Council of Sens in 1141. In a year he died, a broken man, in Cluny's -shelter. The conflict had not been of his seeking. Perhaps, had he been -less vain, he might have avoided it. When it was upon him, the unhappy -athlete of the schools found himself a pigmy matched against the giant of -Clairvaux--the Thor and Loki of the Church! Whether or not the unequal -battle raises Abaelard in our esteem, its outcome commends him to our -pity; and all our sympathy stays with him to the last days of a life that -was, as if physically, crushed. This accumulation of sad fortune bears -witness enough to the character of the man on whose neck it did not fall -by accident. Now let us try to reconstruct him intellectually. - -We have heretofore observed the genius and noted the somewhat swaddling -dialectic categories of a certain eager intellect bearing the name of -Gerbert.[461] Abaelard's mental processes have advanced beyond such -logical stammerings. He and his time are in the fulness of youth, and feel -the strength and joyful assurance of an intellectual progress, to be -brought about by a new-found proficiency in dialectic. In the first half -of the twelfth century, the intellectual genius of the time--and Abaelard -was its quintessence--knew itself advancing by this means in truth. A like -intellectual consciousness had rejoiced the disputants in Plato's academy, -under the inspiration of that beautiful reasoner's exquisite dialectic. -The one time, like the other, was justified in its confidence. For in such -epochs, language, reasoning, and knowledge advance with equal step; -thought clears up with linguistic and logical analysis; it becomes clear -and illuminated because more distinctly conscious of the character of its -processes, and the nature of statement. There is thus a veritable -progress, at least in the methodology of truth. - -In Abaelard's time men had already studied grammar, the grammar of the -Latin tongue, and the quasi-grammar of rearrangement and first painful -learning of the knowledge which it held. They had studied logic too, its -simpler elements, those which consist mainly in a further clearing up of -the meanings of language. Some men--Anselm of Canterbury--had already -made sudden flights beyond grammar, and out of logic's pale. And the -labour of logical and organic appropriation, with some reconstruction of -the ancient material, was to go on in this first half of the twelfth -century, when Hugo of St. Victor lived as well as Abaelard. Progress by -means of dialectic controversy, and first attempts at systematic -construction, mark this period intellectually. Abaelard lived and moved -and had his being in dialectic. The further interest of Theology was lent -him by the spirit of his time. Through the medium of the one he reasoned -analytically; and in the province of the other he applied his reasoning -constructively, using patristic materials and the fragments of Greek -philosophy scattered through them. Thus Abaelard, a true man of the -twelfth century, passes on through logic to theology or metaphysics. - -For the completeness of his logical knowledge he lived and worked twenty -or thirty years too soon. He was unacquainted with the more elaborate -logical treatises of Aristotle, to wit, the _Prior_ and _Posterior -Analytics_, the _Topics_, and _Sophistical Elenchi_. The sources of his -own treatises upon Dialectic are Porphyry's Introduction, Aristotle's -_Categories_ and _De interpretatione_, and certain treatises of -Boethius.[462] A first result of the elementary and quasi-grammatical -character of the sources of logic upon which he drew, is that the -connection between logic and grammar is very plain with him. Note, for -example, this paragraph of his, the substance of which is drawn from -Aristotle's _Categories_: - - "But neither can substances be compared,[463] since comparison relates - to attribute, and not to substance; so it is shown that comparison - lies not as to nouns, but as to their attributes. Thus we say _whiter_ - but not _whitenesser_. Much more are substances which have no - attribute (_adjacentiam_) immune from comparison. More or less cannot - be predicated of nouns (_nomina substantiva_). For one cannot say - _more man_ or _less man_, as _more_ or _less white_."[464] - -Evidently this elementary sort of logic, whether with Aristotle or -Abaelard, represents a clearing up of the mind on current modes of -expression. And sometimes from such studies men make discoveries like that -of Moliere's Bourgeois Gentilhomme, who discovered that he had always been -talking prose. Some of the points on which the minds of Abaelard's -contemporaries required clarification, would be foolish word-play to -ourselves, as, for instance, whether the significance of the sentence -_homo est animal_ is contained in the subject, copula, or predicate, or -only in all three; and whether when a word is spoken, the very same word -and the whole of it comes to the ears of all the hearers at the same time: -"utrum ipsa vox ad aures diversorum simul et tota aequaliter veniat."[465] -Such questions, as was observed regarding the problems of logical -arrangement in Gerbert's mind, may be pertinent and reasonable enough, if -viewed in connection with the intellectual conditions of a period; just as -many questions now make demand on us for solution, being links in the -chain of our knowledge, or manner of reasoning. But future men may pass -them by as not lying in their path to progressive knowledge of the -universe and man. - -So the problem of universals was still cardinal with Abaelard and his -fellow-logicians, who through logic were advancing, as they believed, -along the path of objective truth. Its solution would determine the nature -of the categories into which logic was fitting whatever might be -enunciated or expressed. The inquiry represented an ultimate analysis of -statement, of the general nature of propositions; and also related to -their assumed correspondence with realities. What William of Champeaux had -unqualifiedly alleged, Abaelard tried to determine more analytically, to -wit, the value of the proposition "si aliquid sit ea res quae est species, -id est vel homo vel equus et caetera, sit quaelibet res quae eorum genus -est, veluti animal aut corpus aut substantia,"--if species be something, -as man, horse, and so forth, then that which is the genus of these may be -something, as animal, body, or substance.[466] - -Abaelard's discussion of this matter is a discussion of the true content -of propositions. His conclusion is not so clear as to have occasioned no -dispute. One must not think of him as an Aristotelian--for he knew little -of the substantial philosophy of Aristotle. Our dialectician had absorbed -more of Plato, through turbid patristic channels and the current -translation of the _Timaeus_. So his solution of the question of genus and -species may prove an analytic bit of eclecticism, an imagined -reconcilement of the two great masters. The universal or general is, says -he, "quod natum est de pluribus praedicari," that which is by its nature -adapted to be predicated of a number of things. The universal consists -neither in things as such nor in words as such; it consists rather in -general predicability; it is _sermo, sermo praedicabilis_, that which may -be stated, as a predicate, of many. As such it is not a mere word: _sermo_ -is not merely _vox_; that is not the true general predicable. On the other -hand, one thing cannot be the predicate of another; _res de re non -praedicatur_: therefore _sermo_ is not _res_. Yet Abaelard does not limit -the existence of the universal to the concept of him who thinks it. It -surely exists in the individuals, since _substantia specierum_ is not -different from the _essentia individuorum_. But does not the general -concept exist as an objective unity? Apparently Abaelard would answer: -Yes, it does thus exist as a common sameness (_consimilitudo_). - -All this is anything but clear. And the various twelfth-century opinions -on universals no longer possess human interest. It is hard for us to -distinguish between them, or understand them clearly, or state them -intelligibly. They are bound up in a phraseology untranslatable into -modern language, because the discussion no longer corresponds to modern -ways of thought. But one is interested in the human need which drove -Abaelard and his fellows upon the horns of this problem, and in the nature -of their endeavours to formulate their thought so as to escape those -opposing horns--of an extreme realism which might issue in pantheism, and -an extreme nominalism which seemed to deprive predication of substance and -validity.[467] - -So much for Abaelard as sheer logician, formal adjuster of the -instrumental processes of thinking. Dialectic was for him a first stage in -the actualization of the impulse to know, and bring knowledge to -consistent expression. It was also his way of approach to the further -systematic presentation of his thoughts upon God and man, human society -and justice, divine and human. - - "A new calumny against me, have my rivals lately devised, because I - write upon the dialectic art; affirming that it is not lawful for a - Christian to treat of things which do not pertain to the Faith. Not - only they say that this science does not prepare us for the Faith, but - that it destroys faith by the implications of its arguments. But it is - wonderful if I must not discuss what is permitted them to read. If - they allow that the art militates against faith, surely they deem it - not to be science (_scientia_). For the science of truth is the - comprehension of things, whose _species_ is the wisdom in which faith - consists. Truth is not opposed to truth. For not as falsehood may be - opposed to falsity, or evil to evil, can the true be opposed to the - true, or the good to the good; but rather all good things are in - accord. All knowledge is good, even that which relates to evil, - because a righteous man must have it. Since he should guard against - evil, it is necessary that he should know it beforehand: otherwise he - could not shun it. Though an act be evil, knowledge regarding it is - good; though it be evil to sin, it is good to know the sin, which - otherwise we could not shun. Nor is the science _mathematica_ to be - deemed evil, whose practice (astrology) is evil. Nor is it a crime to - know with what services and immolations the demons may be compelled to - do our will, but to use such knowledge. For if it were evil to know - this, how could God be absolved, who knows the desires and cogitations - of all His creatures, and how the concurrence of demons may be - obtained? If therefore it is not wrong to know, but to do, the evil is - to be referred to the act and not to the knowledge. Hence we are - convinced that all knowledge, which indeed comes from God alone and - from His bounty, is good. Wherefore the study of every science should - be conceded to be good, because that which is good comes from it; and - especially one must insist upon the study of that _doctrina_ by which - the greater truth is known. This is dialectic, whose function is to - distinguish between every truth and falsity: as leader in all - knowledge it holds the primacy and rule of all philosophy. The same - also is shown to be needful to the Catholic Faith, which cannot - without its aid resist the sophistries of schismatics."[468] - -In this passage the man himself is speaking, and disclosing his innermost -convictions. For Abaelard's nature was set upon understanding all things -through reason, even the mysteries of the Faith. He does not say, or quite -think, that he will disbelieve whatever he cannot understand; but his -reasoning and temper point to the conclusion. This was obviously true of -Abaelard's ethical opinions; his enemies said it was true of his theology. -Such a man would naturally plead for freedom of discussion, even for -freedom of conclusion; but within certain bounds; for who in the twelfth -century could maintain that heretics or infidels did rightly in rejecting -the Christian Faith? Yet Abaelard says heretics should be compelled -(_coercendi_) by reason rather than force.[469] And he could at least -conceive of the rejection of the Faith upon, say, imperfect rational -grounds. In his dialogue between Philosopher, Jew, and Christian, the -Christian says to the Philosopher: One cannot argue against you from the -authority of Scripture, which you do not recognize; for no one can be -refuted save with arguments drawn from what he admits: _Nemo quippe argui -nisi ex concessis potest_.[470] However this sounded in Abaelard's time, -the same was enunciated by Thomas Aquinas after him, in a passage already -given.[471] But it is doubtful whether Thomas would have cared to follow -Abaelard in some of the arguments of his _Ethics_ or _Book called, Know -Thyself_, in which he maintains that no act is a sin unless the actor was -conscious of its sinfulness; and therefore that killing the martyrs could -not be imputed as sin to those persecutors who deemed themselves thereby -to be doing a service acceptable to God.[472] - -The titles given by Abaelard to his various treatises are indicative of -the critical insistency of his nature. He called his _Ethica_, _Scito te -ipsum_, _Know Thyself_: understand thy good and ill intentions, and what -may be vice or virtue in thee. Through the book, the discussion of right -and wrong directs itself as pertinaciously to considerations of human -nature as was possible in an age when theological dogma held the final -criteria of human conduct. And Abaelard is capable of a lofty insight -touching the relationship between God and man. - - "Penitence," says he, "is truly fruitful when grief and contrition - proceed from love of God, regarded as benignant, rather than from fear - of penalties. Sin cannot endure with this groaning and contrition of - heart: for sin is contempt of God, or consent to evil, and the love of - God in inspiring our groaning, suffers no ill."[473] - -Possibly when reading the _Scito te ipsum_ one is conscious of a -dialectician drawing distinctions, rather than of a moralist searching the -heart of the matter. Everything is set forth so reasonably. Yet Abaelard's -impartial delight in a rational view of belief and conduct shows nowhere -quite as obviously as in his _Dialogue_ between Philosopher and Jew and -Christian. Each in turn is made to set forth the best arguments his -position admits of. The author does his best for each, and perhaps seems -temperamentally drawn to the position of the Philosopher, whom he permits -to call the Jews _stultos_ and the Christians _insanos_. This philosopher -naturally is no Greek of Plato's or Aristotle's time, but a good Roman, -who regards _moralis philosophia_ as the _finis omnium disciplinarum_, and -hangs all intellectual considerations upon a discussion of the _summum -bonum_. His well-worn arguments are put with earnestness. He deprecates -the blind acceptance of beliefs by children from their fathers, and the -narrowness of mind which keeps men from perceiving the possible truth in -others' opinions: - - "so that whomsoever they see differing from themselves in belief, they - deem alien from the mercy of God. Thus condemning all others, they - vaunt themselves alone as blessed. Long reflecting on this blindness - and pride of the human race, I have unceasingly besought the Divine - Pity that He would deign to draw me forth from this miserable - Charibdian whirlpool of error, and guide me to a port of safety. So - you [addressing both Jew and Christian] behold me solicitous and - attentive as a disciple, to the documents of your arguments."[474] - -The qualities cultivated by dialectic, and the impartial rational temper, -here displayed, reappear in the works of Abaelard devoted to sacred -doctrine. Enough has been said of the method and somewhat captious -qualities of the _Sic et non_.[475] Unquestionably its manner of -presenting the contradictory opinions of the Fathers, without any attempt -to reconcile them, tended to bring into view the difficulties inhering in -the formulation of Christian belief. And indeed the book made prominent -all the diabolic insoluble problems of the Faith, or rather of life itself -and any view of God and man: Predestination, for example; whether God -causes evil; whether He is omnipotent; whether He is free. The Lombard's -_Sentences_ and Thomas's _Summa_ considered all these questions; but they -strove to solve them; and Thomas did solve every one, leaving no loose -ends to his theology. More potently than Abaelard did the Angelic Doctor -employ dialectic in his finished scheme. With him, this propaedeutic -discipline, this tool of truth, perfectly performs its task of -construction. So also Abaelard intended to work with it; but his somewhat -unconsidered use of the tool did not meet the approval of his -contemporaries. Accordingly, in his more constructive theological -treatises his impulse to know and state appears finally actualized in the -systematic formulation of convictions upon topics of ultimate interest, to -wit, theology, the contents of the Christian Faith, the full relationship -of God and man. Did he sever theology from philosophy? Nay, rather, with -him theology was ultimate philosophy. - -Several times Abaelard rewrote what was substantially the same general -work upon Theology. In one of its earliest forms it was burnt by the -Council of Soissons in 1121.[476] In another form it exists under the -title _Theologia Christiana_;[477] and the first part of its apparently -final revision is now improperly entitled, _Introductio ad -theologiam_.[478] - -The first Book of the _Theologia Christiana_ is an exposition of the -Trinity, not clinched in syllogisms, but consisting mainly of an orderly -presentation of the patristic authorities supporting the author's view of -the matter. The testimonies of profane writers are also given. Liber II. -opens by saying that in the former part of the work "we have collected the -_testimonia_ of prophets and philosophers, in support of the faith of the -Holy Trinity." Hereupon, by the same method of adducing authorities, -Abaelard proceeds to refute those who had blamed him for citing the pagan -philosophers. He marshals his supporting excerpts from the Fathers, and -remarks: "That nothing is more needful for the defence of our faith than -that as against the importunities of all the infidels we should have -witness from themselves wherewith to refute them." Then he points to the -moral worth of some of the philosophers, to their true teaching of the -soul's immortality, and quotes Horace's - - "Oderunt peccare boni virtutis amore." - -He continues at some length setting forth their well-nigh evangelical -virtue, and speaks of the Gospel as _reformatio legis naturalis_. - -At the beginning of Liber III. comes the statement: "We set the faith of -the blessed Trinity as the foundation of all good." Whereupon Abaelard -breaks out in a denunciation of those who misuse dialectic; but again he -passes to a defence of the art as an art and branch of knowledge, and -shows its need as a weapon against those wranglers who will be quieted -neither by the authority of the saints nor the philosophers: against whom, -he, Abaelard, trusting in the divine aid, will turn this weapon as David -did the sword of Goliath. He now states the true object of his work: -"First then is to be set forth the theme of our whole labour, and the sum -of faith; the unity of the divine substance and the Trinity of persons, -which are in God, and are one God. Next we state the objections to our -theses, and then the solutions of those objections." And he gives the -substance of the Athanasian Creed. From this point, his work becomes more -dialectical and constructive, although of course continuing to quote -authorities. He is emboldened to discuss the deepest mysteries, the very -penetralia of the Trinity, and in a way which might well alarm men like -Bernard, who desired acceptance of the Faith, with rhetoric, but without -discussion. To be sure Abaelard pauses to justify himself by reverting to -his apologetic purpose: "Heretics must be coerced with reason rather than -by force." However this may be, the work henceforth shows the passing on -of logic to the exercise of its architectonic functions in constructing a -systematic theological metaphysics. - -The miscalled _Introductio ad theologiam_, as might be expected of a last -revision of the author's _Theology_, is a more organic work. In the -Prologue, Abaelard speaks of it as a _Summa sacrae eruditionis_ or an -_Introductio_ to Divine Scripture. And again he states the justifying -purpose of his labour, or rather puts it into the mouths of his disciples -who have asked for such a work from him: "Since our faith, the Christian -Faith, seems entangled in such difficult questions, and to stand apart -from human reason (_et ab humana ratione longius absistere_), it should be -fortified by so much the stronger arguments, especially against the -attacks of those who call themselves philosophers." Continuing, Abaelard -protests that if in any way, for his sins, he should deviate from the -Catholic understanding and statement, he will on seeing his error revise -the same, like the blessed Augustine. - -The work itself opens with a statement of its intended divisions: "In -three matters, as I judge, rests the sum of human salvation: _Fides_, -_caritas_, and _sacramentum_"; and he gives his definition of faith, which -was so obnoxious to Bernard and others, as the _existimatio rerum non -apparentium_. The three extant Books do not conclude the treatment even of -the first of these three topics. But one readily sees that were the work -complete, its arrangement might correspond with that of Thomas's -_Summa_.[479] One may reiterate that it was more constructively -argumentative than the _Theologia Christiana_, even in the manner of -using the cited authorities. For instance, Abaelard's mind is fixed on the -analogy between the Neo-Platonic Trinity of _Deus_, _nous_, and _anima -mundi_, and that of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The _nous_ fitly -represents Christ, who is the _Sapientia Dei_--which Abaelard sets forth; -but then with even greater insistency he identifies the Holy Spirit with -the world-soul. Nothing gave a stronger warrant to the accusations of -heresy brought against him than this last doctrine, with which he was -obsessed. Yet what roused St. Bernard and his jackals was not so much any -particular opinion of Abaelard, as his dialectic and critical spirit, -which insisted upon understanding and explaining, before believing. "The -faith of the righteous believes; it does not dispute. But that man, -suspicious of God (_Deum habens suspectum_), has no mind to believe what -his reason has not previously argued."[480] - -Still, when Bernard says that faith does not discuss, but believes, he -states a conviction of his mind, a conviction corresponding with an inner -need of his own to formulate and express his thought. Only, with Abaelard -the need to consider and analyse was more consciously imperative. He could -not avoid the constant query: How shall I think this thing--this thing, -for example, which is declared by revelation? Just as other questioning -spirits in other times might be driven upon the query: How shall we think -these things which are disclosed by the variegated walls of our physical -environment? Those yield data, or refuse them, and force the mind to put -many queries, and come to some adjustment. So experience presents data for -adjustment, just as dogma, Scripture, revelation present that which reason -must bring within the action of its processes, and endeavour to find -rational expression for. - - -II - -The greatest dialectician of the early twelfth century felt no problems -put him by the physical world. That did not attract his inquiry; it did -not touch the reasonings evolved by his self-consciousness, any more than -it impressed the fervid mind of his great adversary, St. Bernard. The -natural world, however, stirred the mind of Abaelard's contemporary, Hugo -of St. Victor.[481] Its colours waved before his reveries, and its visible -sublimities drew his mind aloft to the contemplation of God: for him its -_things_ were all the things of God--_opus conditionis_ or _opus -restaurationis_;[482] the work of foundation, whereby God created the -physical world for the support and edification of its crowning creature -man; and the work of restoration, to wit, the incarnation of the Word, and -all its sacraments. - -Hugo was a Platonic and very Christian theologian. He would reason and -expound, and yet was well aware that reason could not fathom the nature of -God, or bring man to salvation. "Logic, mathematics, physics teach some -truth, yet do not reach that truth wherein is the soul's safety, without -which whatever is is vain."[483] So Hugo was not primarily a logician, -like Abaelard; nor did he care chiefly for the kind of truth which might -be had through logic. Nevertheless the productions of his short life prove -the excellence of his mind and his large enthusiasm for knowledge. - -As Hugo was the head of the school of St. Victor for some years before his -death, certain of his works cover topics of ordinary mediaeval education, -secular and religious; while others advance to a more profound expression -of the intellectual, or spiritual, interests of their author. For -elementary religious instruction, he composed a veritable book of -_Sentences_,[484] which preceded the Lombard's in time, but was later than -Abaelard's _Sic et non_. Without striking features, it lucidly and amiably -carried out its general purpose of setting forth the authoritative -explanations of the elements of the Christian Faith. The writer did not -hesitate to quote opposing views, which were not heralded, however, by -such danger-signals of contradiction as flare from the chapter headings of -the _Sic et non_. - -The corresponding treatise upon profane learning--the _Eruditio -didascalica_--is of greater interest.[485] It commences in elementary -fashion, as a manual of study: "There are two things by which we gain -knowledge, to wit, reading and meditation; reading comes first." The book -is to be a guide to the student in the study both of secular and divine -writings; it teaches how to study the _artes_, and then how to study the -Scriptures.[486] Even in this manual, Hugo shows himself a meditative -soul, and one who seeks to base his most elementary expositions upon the -nature and needs of man. The mind, says he, is distracted by things of -sense, and does not know itself. It is renewed through study, so that it -learns again not to look without for what itself affords. Learning is -life's solace, which he who finds is happy, and he who makes his own is -blessed.[487] - -For Hugo, philosophy is that which investigates the _rationes_ of things -human and divine, seeking ever the final wisdom, which is knowledge of the -_primaeva ratio_: this distinguishes philosophy from the practical -sciences, like agriculture: it follows the _ratio_, and they administer -the matter. Again and again, Hugo returns to the thought that the object -of all human _actiones_ and _studia_ is to restore the integrity of our -nature or mitigate its weaknesses, restore the image of the divine -similitude in us, or minister to the needs of life. This likeness is -renewed by _speculatio veritatis_, or _exercitium virtutis_.[488] - -Such is a pretty broad basis of theory for a high school manual. Hugo -proceeds to set forth the scheme, rather than the substance, of the arts -and sciences, pausing occasionally to admonish the reader to hold no -science vile, since knowledge always is good; and he points out that all -knowledge hangs together in a common coherency. He sketches[489] the true -student's life: Whoever seeks learning, must not neglect discipline! He -must be humble, and not ashamed to learn from any one; he must observe -decent manners, and not play the fool and make faces at lecturers on -divinity, for thereby he insults God. Yea, and let him mind the example of -the ancient sages, who for learning's sake spurned honours, rejected -riches, rejoiced in insults, deserted the companionship of men, and gave -themselves up to philosophy in desert solitudes, that they might be more -free for meditation. Diligent search for wisdom in quietude becomes a -scholar; and likewise poverty, and likewise exile: he is very delicate who -clings to his fatherland; "He is brave to whom every land is home -(_patria_); and he is perfect to whom the whole world is an exile!"[490] - -Hugo has much to say of the _pulchritudo_ and the _decor_ of the -creature-world. But with him the world and its beauty point to God. One -should observe it because of its suggestiveness, the visible suggesting -the invisible. Hugo has already been followed in his argument that the -world, in its veriest reality, is a symbol.[491] Here we follow him along -his path of knowledge, which leads on and upward from _cogitatio_, through -_meditatio_, to _contemplatio_. The steps in Hugo's scheme are rational, -though the summit lies beyond. This path to truth, leading on from the -visible symbol to the unseen power, is for him the reason and -justification of study; drawing to God it makes for man's salvation. - -Hugo has put perhaps his most lucid exposition of the three grades of -knowledge into the first of his _Nineteen Sermons on Ecclesiastes_.[492] -He is fond of certain numbers, and here his thought revolves in categories -of the number three. Solomon composed three works, the Proverbs, -Ecclesiastes, and Canticles. In the first, he addresses his son -paternally, admonishing him to pursue virtue and shun vice; in the second, -he shows the grown man that nothing in the world is stable; finally, in -Canticles, he brings the consummate one, who has spurned the world, to the -Bridegroom's arms. - - "Three are the modes of cognition (_visiones_) belonging to the - rational soul: cogitation, meditation, contemplation. It is cogitation - when the mind is touched with the ideas of things, and the thing - itself is by its image presented suddenly, either entering the mind - through sense or rising from memory. Meditation is the assiduous and - sagacious revision of cogitation, and strives to explain the involved, - and penetrate the hidden. Contemplation is the mind's perspicacious - and free attention, diffused everywhere throughout the range of - whatever may be explored. There is this difference between meditation - and contemplation: meditation relates always to things hidden from our - intelligence; contemplation relates to things made manifest, either - according to their nature or our capacity. Meditation always is - occupied with some one matter to be investigated; contemplation - spreads abroad for the comprehending of many things, even the - universe. Thus meditation is a certain inquisitive power of the mind, - sagaciously striving to look into the obscure and unravel the - perplexed. Contemplation is that acumen of intelligence which, keeping - all things open to view, comprehends all with clear vision. Thus - contemplation has what meditation seeks. - - "There are two kinds of contemplation: the first is for beginners, and - considers creatures; the kind which comes later, belongs to the - perfect, and contemplates the Creator. In the Proverbs, Solomon - proceeds as through meditation. In Ecclesiastes he ascends to the - first grade of contemplation. In the Song of Songs he transports - himself to the final grade. In meditation there is a wrestling of - ignorance with knowledge; and the light of truth gleams as in a fog of - error. So fire is kindled with difficulty in a heap of green wood; but - then fanned with stronger breath, the flame burns higher, and we see - volumes of smoke rolling up, with flame flashing through. Little by - little the damp is exhausted, and the leaping fire dispels the smoke. - Then _victrix flamma_ darting through the heap of crackling wood, - springs from branch to branch, and with lambent grasp catches upon - every twig; nor does it rest until it penetrates everywhere and draws - into itself all that it finds which is not flame. At length the whole - combustible material is purged of its own nature and passes into the - similitude and property of fire; then the din is hushed, and the - voracious fire having subdued all, and brought all into its own - likeness, composes itself to a high peace and silence, finding nothing - more that is alien or opposed to itself. First there was fire with - flame and smoke; then fire with flame, without smoke; and at last pure - fire with neither flame nor smoke." - -So the _victrix flamma_ achieves the three stages of spiritual insight, -fighting its way through the smoke of cogitation, through the smoke and -flame of meditation, and at last through the flame of creature -contemplation, to the high peace of God, where all is love's ardent -vision, without flame or smoke. It is thus through the grades of knowledge -that the soul reaches at last that fulness of intelligence which may be -made perfect and inflamed with love, in the contemplation of God. All -knowledge is good according to its grade; only let it always lead on to -God, and with humility. Hugo makes his principles clear at the opening of -his commentary on the _Celestial Hierarchy_ of Dionysius.[493] - - "_The Jews seek a sign, and the Greeks wisdom._ There was a certain - wisdom which seemed such to them who knew not the true wisdom. The - world found it, and began to be puffed up, thinking itself great in - this. Confiding in its wisdom, it presumed, and boasted that it would - attain the highest wisdom.... And it made itself a ladder of the face - of the creation, shining toward the invisible things of the - Creator.... Then those things which were seen were known, and there - were other things which were not known; and through those which were - manifest they expected to reach those which were hidden; and they - stumbled and fell into the falsehoods of their own imaginings.... So - God made foolish the wisdom of this world; and He pointed out another - wisdom, which seemed foolishness, and was not. For it preached Christ - crucified, in order that truth might be sought in humility. But the - world despised it, wishing to contemplate the works of God, which He - had made to be marvelled at, and it did not wish to venerate what He - had set for imitation. Neither did it look to its own disease, and - seek a medicine with piety; but presuming on a false health, it gave - itself over with vain curiosity to the study of alien matters." - -This study made the wisdom of the world, whereby it devised the arts and -sciences which we still learn. But the world in its pride did not read -aright the great book of nature. It had not the knowledge of the true -Exemplar, for the sanitation of its inner vision, to wit, the flesh of the -eternal Word in the humanity of Jesus. - - "There were two images (_simulacra_) set for man, in which he might - perceive the unseen: one consisting of nature, the other of grace. The - former image was the face of this world; the latter was the humanity - of the Word. And God is shown in both, but He is not understood in - both; since the appearance of nature discloses the artificer, but - cannot illuminate the eyes of him who contemplates it." - -Hugo then classifies the sciences in the usual Aristotelian way, and shows -that Christian theology is the end of all philosophy. The first part of -_philosophia theorica_ is mathematics, which speculates as to the visible -forms of visible things. The second is physics, which scrutinizes the -invisible causes of visible things. The third, theology, alone -contemplates invisible substances and their invisible natures. Herein is a -certain progression; and the mind mounts to knowledge of the true. Through -the visible forms of visible things, it comes to invisible causes of -visible things; and through the invisible causes of visible things, it -ascends to invisible substances, and to knowing their natures. This is the -summit of philosophy and the perfection of truth. In this, as already -said, the wise of this world were made foolish; because proceeding by the -natural document alone, making account only of the elements and appearance -of the world, they missed the instructive instances of Grace: which in -spite of humble guise afford the clearer insight into truth. - -This is Hugo's scheme of knowledge; it begins with _cogitatio_, then -proceeds through _meditatio_ to _contemplatio_ of the creature world, and -finally of the Creator. The arts and sciences, as well as the face of -nature, afford a _simulacrum_ of the unseen Power; but all this knowledge -by itself will not bring man to the perfect knowledge of God. For this he -needs the _exemplaria_ of Grace, shown through the incarnation of the -Word. Only by virtue of this added means, may man attain to perfect -contemplation of the truth of God. That end and final summit is beyond -reason's reach; but the attainment of rational knowledge makes part of the -path thither. Keen as was Hugo's intellectual nature, his interest in -reason was coupled with a deeper interest in that which reason might -neither include nor understand. The intellect does not include the -emotional and immediately desiderative elements of human nature; neither -can it comprehend the infinite which is God; and Hugo drew toward God not -only through his intellect, but likewise through his desiderative nature, -with its yearnings of religious love. That love with him was rational, -since its object satisfied his mind as far as his mind could comprehend -it. - -So Hugo's intellectual interests were connected with the emotional side of -human nature, and also led up to what transcended reason. Thus they led to -what was a mystery because too great for human reason, and they included -that which also was somewhat of a mystery to reason because lying partly -outside its sphere. Hugo is an instance of the intellectual nature which -will not rest in reason's province, but feels equally impelled to find -expression for matters that either exceed the mind, or do not altogether -belong to it. Such an intellect is impelled to formulate its convictions -in regard to these; its negative conviction that it cannot comprehend -them, and why it cannot; and its more positive conviction of their -value--of the absolute worth of God, and of man's need of Him, and of the -love and fear by which men may come close to Him, or avoid His wrath. - -What Hugo has had to say as to cogitation, meditation, and contemplation, -represents his analysis of the stages by which a sufficing sense may be -reached of the Creator and His world of creature-kind. In this final -wisdom and ardour of contemplation, both human reason and human love have -part. The intellect advances along its lines, considering the world, and -drawing inferences as to the unseen Being who created and sustains it. -Mind's unaided power will not reach. But by the grace of God, supremely -manifested in the Incarnation, the man is humbled, and his heart is -touched and drawn to love the power of the divine pity and humility. The -lesson of the Incarnation and its guiding grace, emboldens the heart and -enlightens the mind; and the man's faculties are strengthened and uplifted -to the contemplation of God, wherein the mind is satisfied and the heart -at rest. - -We have here the elements of piety, intellectual and devotional. Hugo is -an example of their union; they also preserve their equal weight in -Aquinas. But because Hugo emphasizes the limitations of the intellect, and -so ardently recognizes the heart's yearning and immediacy of -apperception, he is what is styled a mystic; a term which we are now in a -position to consider, and to some extent exchange for other phrases of -more definite significance.[494] - -Quite to avoid the term is not possible, inasmuch as the conception -certainly includes what is mysterious because unknowable through reason. -For it includes a sense of the supreme, a sense of God, who is too great -for human reason to comprehend, and therefore a mystery. And it includes a -yearning toward God, the desire of Him, and the feeling of love. The last -is also mysterious, in that it has not exclusive part with reason, but -springs as well from feeling. Yet the essence or nature of this spirit of -piety which we would analyse, consists in consciousness of the reality of -the object of its yearning or devotion. Not altogether through induction -or deduction, but with an irrational immediacy of conviction, it feels and -knows its object. In place of the knowledge which is mediated through -rational processes, is substituted a conviction upheld by yearning, love's -conviction indeed, of the reality and presence of that which is all the -greater and more worthy because it baffles reason. And the final goal -attainable by this mystic love is, even as the goal of other love, union -with the Beloved. - -The mystic spirit is an essential part of all piety or religion, which -relates always and forever to the rationally unknown, and therefore -mysterious. Without a consciousness of mystery, there can be neither piety -nor religion. Nor can there be piety without some devotion to God, nor the -deepest and most ardent forms of piety, without fervent love of God. This -devotion and this love supply strength of conviction, creating a realness -of communion with the divine, and an assurance of the soul's rest and -peace therein. But that the intellect has part, Hugo abundantly -demonstrates. One must have perceptions, and thought's severest -wrestlings--_cogitatio_ and _meditatio_--before reaching that first stage -of wide and sure intelligence, which relates to the creature world, and -affords a broad basis of assurance, whence at last the soul shall spring -to God. Intellectual perceptions and rational knowledge, and all the -mind's puttings together of its data in inductions and deductions and -constructions, form a basis for contemplation, and yield material upon -which the emotional side of human nature may exercise itself in yearning -and devotion. Herein the constructive imagination works; which is -intellectual faculty illuminated and impelled by the emotions. - -This spirit actualizes itself in the power and scope of its resultant -conviction, by which it makes real to itself the qualities, attributes, -and actions of its object, God, and the nature of man's relationship or -union with the divine. In its final energy, when only partly conscious of -its intellectual inductions, it discards syllogisms, quite dissatisfied -with their devious and hesitating approach. Instead, by the power of love, -it springs directly to its God. Nevertheless the soul which feels the -inadequacy of reason even to voice the soul's desires, will seek means of -expression wherein reason still will play a submerged part. The soul is -seeking to express what is not altogether expressible in direct and -rational statement. It seeks adumbrations, partial unveilings of its -sentiments, which shall perhaps make up in warmth of colour what they lack -in definiteness of line. In fine, it seeks symbols. Such symbolism must be -large and elastic, in order to shadow forth the soul's relations with the -Infinite; it must also be capable of carrying passion, that it may satisfy -the soul's craving to give voice to its great love. - -In Greek thought as well as in the Hellenizing Judaism of a Philo, -symbolism, or more specifically speaking, allegorical interpretation, was -obviously apologetic, seeking to cloud in naturalistic interpretations the -doings of the rather over-human gods of Greece.[495] But it sprang also -from the unresting need of man to find expression for that sense of things -which will not fit definite statement. This was the need which became -creative, and of necessity fancifully creative, with Plato. Though he -would have nothing to do with falsifying apologetics, all the more he felt -the need of allegories, to suggest what his dialectic could not -formulate. In the early times of the Church militant of Christ, -allegorical interpretation was exploited to defend the Faith; in the later -patristic period, the Faith had so far triumphed, that allegory as a sword -of defence and attack might be sheathed, or just allowed to glitter now -and then half-drawn. But piety's other need, with increasing energy, -compelled the use of symbols and articulate allegory to express the -directly inexpressible. Thereafter through the Middle Ages, while the use -of allegory as a defence against the Gentiles slumbered, so much more the -other need of it, and the sense of the universal symbolism of material -things, filled the minds of men; and in age-long answer to this need, -allegory, symbolism, became part of the very spirit of the mediaeval time. - -Thus it became the universal vehicle of pious expression: it may be said -almost to have co-extended with all mediaeval piety. It was ardently -loving, as with St. Bernard; it might be filled with scarlet passion, as -with Mechthild of Magdeburg; or it might be used in the self-conscious, -and yet inspired vision-pictures of Hildegard of Bingen. And indeed with -almost any mediaeval man or woman, it might keep talking, as a way of -speech, obtrusively, conventionally, _ad nauseam_. For indeed in treatise -after treatise even of the better men, allegory seems on the one hand to -become very foolish and perverse, banal, intolerably talking on and on -beyond the point; or again we sense its mechanism, hear the creaking of -its jaws, while no living voice emerges,--and we suspect that the mystery -of life, if it may not be compassed by direct statement, also lies deeper -than allegorical conventions. - -Hugo's great _De sacramentis_ showed the equipoise of intellectual and -pietistic interests in him, and the Platonic quality of his mind's sure -sense of the reality of the supersensual.[496] Other treatises of his show -his yearning piety, and the Augustinian quality of his soul, "made toward -thee, and unquiet till it rests in thee." The _De arca Noe morali_,[497] -that is to say, the Ark of Noah viewed in its moral significance, is -charming in its spiritual refinement, and interesting in its catholic -intellectual reflections. The Prologue presents a situation: - - "As I was sitting once among the brethren, and they were asking - questions, and I replying, and many matters had been cited and - adduced, it came about that all of us at once began to marvel - vehemently at the unstableness and disquiet of the human heart; and we - began to sigh. Then they pleaded with me that I would show them the - cause of such whirlings of thought in the human heart; and they - besought me to set forth by what art or exercise of discipline this - evil might be removed. I indeed wished to satisfy my brethren, so far - as God might aid me, and untie the knot of their questions, both by - authority and by argument. I knew it would please them most if I - should compose my matter to read to them at table. - - "It was my plan to show first whence arise such violent changes in - man's heart, and then how the mind may be led to keep itself in stable - peace. And although I had no doubt that this is the proper work of - grace, rather than of human labour, nevertheless I know that God - wishes us to co-operate. Besides it is well to know the magnitude of - our weakness and the mode of its repairing, since so much the deeper - will be our gratitude. - - "The first man was so created, that if he had not sinned, he would - always have beheld in present contemplation his Creator's face, and by - always seeing Him, would have loved Him always, and, by loving, would - always have clung close to Him, and by clinging to Him who was - eternal, would have possessed life without end. Evidently the one true - good of man was perfect knowledge of his Creator. But he was driven - from the face of the Lord, since for his sin he was struck with the - blindness of ignorance, and passed from that intimate light of - contemplation; and he inclined his mind to earthly desires, as he - began to forget the sweetness of the divine. Thus he was made a - wanderer and fugitive over the earth. A wanderer indeed, because of - disordered concupiscence; and a fugitive, through guilty conscience, - which feels every man's hand against it. For every temptation will - overcome the man who has lost God's aid. - - "So man's heart which had been kept secure by divine love, and one by - loving one, afterwards began to flow here and there through earthly - desires. For the mind which knows not to love its true good, is never - stable and never rests. Hence restlessness, and ceaseless labour, and - disquiet, until the man turns and adheres to Him. The sick heart - wavers and quivers; the cause of its disease is love of the world; the - remedy, the love of God." - -Hugo's object is to give rest to the restless heart, by directing its love -to God. One still bears in mind his three plains of knowledge, forming -perhaps the three stages of ascent, at the top of which is found the -knowledge that turns to divine contemplation and love. There may be a -direct and simple love of God for simple souls; but for the man of mind, -knowledge precedes love. - - "In two ways God dwells in the human heart, to wit, through knowledge - and through love; yet the dwelling is one, since every one who knows - Him, loves, and no one can love without knowing. Knowledge through - cognition of the Faith erects the structure; love through virtue, - paints the edifice with colour."[498] - -Then make a habitation for God in thy heart. This is the great matter, and -indeed all: for this, Scripture exists, and the world was made, and God -became flesh, through His humility making man sublime. The Ark of Noah is -the type of this spiritual edifice, as it is also the type of the Church. - -The piety and allegory of this work rise as from a basis of knowledge. The -allegory indeed is drawn out and out, until it seems to become sheer -circumlocution. This was the mediaeval way, and Hugo's too, alas! We will -not follow further in this treatise, nor take up his _De arca Noe -mystica_,[499] which carries out into still further detail the symbolism -of the Ark, and applies it to the Church and the people of God. Hugo has -also left a colloquy between man and his soul on the true love, which lies -in spiritual meditation.[500] But it is clear that the reaches of Hugo's -yearning are still grounded in intellectual considerations, though these -may be no longer present in the mind of him whose consciousness is -transformed to love. - -One may discern the same progression, from painful thought to surer -contemplation, and thence to the heart's devoted communion, in him whom we -have called the Thor and Loki of the Church. No twelfth-century soul loved -God more zealously than St. Bernard. He was not strong in abstract -reasoning. His mind needed the compulsion of the passions to move it to -sublime conclusions. Commonly he is dubbed a mystic. But his piety and -love of God poise themselves on a basis of consideration before springing -to soar on other wings. In his _De consideratione_,[501] Bernard explains -that word in the sense given by Hugo to _meditatio_, while he uses -_contemplatio_ very much as Hugo does. It applies to things that have -become certain to the mind, while "_consideratio_ is busy investigating. -In this sense _contemplatio_ may be defined as the true and certain -intuition of the mind (_intuitus animi_) regarding anything, or the sure -apprehension of the true: while _consideratio_ is thought intently -searching, or the mind's endeavour to track out the true."[502] - -_Contemplatio_, even though it forget itself in ecstasy, must be based on -prior consideration; then it may take wings of its own, or rather (with -orthodox Hugo and Bernard) wings of grace, and fly to the bosom of its -God. This flight is the immediacy of conviction and the ecstasy which -follows. One may even perceive the thinking going on during the soul's -outpour of love. For the mind still supports the soul's ardour with -reasonings, original or borrowed, as appears in the second sermon of that -long series preached by Bernard on Canticles to his own spiritual _elite_ -of Clairvaux.[503] The saintly orator is yearning, yearning for Christ -Himself; he will have naught of Moses or Isaiah; nor does he desire -dreams, or care for angels' visits: _ipse, ipse me osculetur_, cries his -soul in the words of Canticles--let _Him_ kiss me. The phrasing seems -symbolical; but the yearning is direct, and at least rhetorically -overmastering. The emotion is justified by its reasons. They lie in the -personality of Christ and Bernard's love of Him, rising from all his -knowledge of Him, even from his experience of Jesus' whisperings to the -soul. He knows how vastly Jesus surpasses the human prophets who -prefigured or foretold Him: _ipsos longe superat Jesus meus_--the word -_meus_ is love's very articulation. The orator cries: "Listen! Let the -kissing mouth be the Word assuming flesh; and the mouth kissed be the -flesh which is assumed; then the kiss which is consummated between them is -the _persona_ compacted of the two, to wit, the mediator of God and men, -the man Christ Jesus." - -This identical allegory goes back to Origen's _Commentary on Canticles_. -Bernard has kindled it with an intimate love of Jesus, which is not -Origen's. But the thought explains and justifies Bernard's desire to be -kissed by the kiss of His mouth, and so to be infolded in the divine love -which "gave His only-begotten Son," and also became flesh. _Os osculans_ -signifies the Incarnation: one realizes the emotional power which that -saving thought would take through such a metaphor. At the end of his -sermon, Bernard sums up the conclusion, so that his hearers may carry it -away: - - "It is plain that this holy kiss was a grace needed by the world, to - give faith to the weak, and satisfy the desire of the perfect. The - kiss itself is none other than the mediator of God and men, the man - Christ Jesus, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns - God, _per omnia saecula saeculorum_, Amen." - - -III - -There is small propriety in speaking of these men of the first half of the -twelfth century as Platonists or Aristotelians; nor is there great -interest in trying to find in Plato or Aristotle or Plotinus the specific -origin of any of their thoughts. They were apt to draw on the source -nearest and most convenient; and one must remember that their immediate -philosophic antecedents were not the distinct systems of Plato and -Aristotle and Plotinus, but rather the late pagan eras of eclecticism, -followed by that strongly motived syntheticism of the Church Fathers which -selected whatever might accord with their Christian scheme. So Abaelard -must not be called an Aristotelian. Neither he nor his contemporaries knew -what an Aristotelian was, and when they called Abaelard _Peripateticus_, -they meant one skilled in the logic which was derived from the simpler -treatises of Aristotle's _Organon_. Nor will we call Hugo a Platonist, in -spite of his fine affinities with Plato; for many of Hugo's thoughts, his -classification of the sciences for example, pointed back to Aristotle. - -Abaelard, Hugo, St. Bernard suggest the triangulation of the epoch's -intellectual interests. Peter Lombard, somewhat their junior, presents its -compend of accepted and partly digested theology. He took his method from -Abaelard, and drew whole chapters of his work from Hugo; but his great -source, which was also theirs, was Augustine. The Lombard was, and was to -be, a representative man; for his _Sentences_ brought together the -ultimate problems which exercised the minds of the men of his time and -after. - -The early and central decades of the twelfth century offer other persons -who may serve to round out our general notion of the character of the -intellectual interests which occupied the period before the rediscovery of -Aristotle, that is, of the substantial Aristotelian encyclopaedia of -knowledge. Among such Adelard of Bath (England) was somewhat older than -Abaelard. His keen pursuit of knowledge made him one of its early pilgrims -to Spain and Greece. He compiled a book of _Quaestiones naturales_, and -another called _De eodem et diverso_,[504] in which he struggled with the -problem of universals, and with palpable problems of psychology. His -cosmology shows a genial culling from the _Timaeus_ fragment of Plato, and -such other bits of Greek philosophy as he had access to. - -Adelard was influenced by the views of men who taught or studied at -Chartres. Bernard of Chartres, the first of the great Chartrian teachers -of the early twelfth century,[505] wrote on Porphyry, and after his death -was called by John of Salisbury _perfectissimus inter Platonicos saeculi -nostri_. He was one of those extreme realists whose teachings might bear -pantheistic fruit in his disciples; he had also a Platonistic imagination, -leading him to see in Nature a living organism. Bernard's younger brother, -Thierry, also called of Chartres, extended his range of studies, and -compiled numerous works on natural knowledge, indicating his wide reading -and receptive nature. His realism brought him very close to pantheism, -which indeed flowered poetically in his admirer or pupil, Bernard -Silvestris of Tours. - -If we should analyze the contents of the latter's _De mundi universitate_, -it might be necessary to affirm that the author was a dualistic thinker, -in that he recognized two first principles, God and matter; and also that -he was a pantheist, because of the way in which he sees in God the source -of Nature: "This mind (_nous_) of the supreme God is soul (_intellectus_), -and from its divinity Nature is born."[506] One should not, however, drive -the heterogeneous thoughts of these twelfth-century people to their -opposite conclusions. A moderate degree of historical insight should -prevent our interpreting their gleanings from the past by formulas of our -own greater knowledge. Doubtless their books--Hugo's as well as Thierry's -and Bernard Silvester's--have enough of contradiction if we will probe for -it with a spirit not their own. But if we will see with their eyes and -perceive with their feelings, we shall find ourselves resting with each of -them in some unity of personal temperament; and _that_, rather than any -half-borrowed thought, is Hugo or Thierry or Bernard Silvestris. -Silvester's book, _De mundi universitate, sive Megacosmus et microcosmus_, -is a half poem, like Boethius's _De consolatione_ and a number of -mediaeval productions to which there has been occasion to allude. It is -fruitless to dissect such a composite of prose and verse. In it Natura -speaks to Nous, and then Nous to Natura; the four elements come into play, -and nine hierarchies of angels; the stars in their firmaments, and the -genesis of things on earth; Physics and her daughters, Theorica and -Practica, and all the figures of Greek mythology. An analysis of such a -book will turn it to nonsense, and destroy the breath of that -twelfth-century temperament which loved to gather driftwood from the -wreckage of the ancient world of thought. Thus perhaps they expected to -draw to themselves, even from the pagan flotsam, some congenial -explanation of the universe and man. - -A far more acute thinker was Gilbert de la Porree,[507] who taught at -Chartres for a number of years, before advancing upon Paris in 1141. He -next became Bishop of Poictiers, and died in 1154. Like Abaelard, he was -primarily a logician, and occupied himself with the problem of universals, -taking a position not so different from Abaelard's. Like Abaelard also, -Gilbert was brought to task before a council, in which St Bernard sought -to be the guiding, _scilicet_, condemning spirit. But the condemnation was -confined to certain sentences, which when cut from their context and -presented in distorting isolation, the author willingly sacrificed to the -flames. He refused, some time afterwards, to discuss his views privately -with the Abbot of Clairvaux, saying that the latter was too inexpert a -theologian to understand them. Gilbert's most famous work, _De sex -principiis_, attempted to complete the last six of Aristotle's ten -_Categories_, which the philosopher had treated cursorily; it was almost -to rival the work of the Stagirite in authority, for instance, with -Albertus Magnus, who wrote a Commentary upon it in the same spirit with -which he commented on the logical treatises of the _Organon_. - -In the same year with Gilbert (1154) died a man of different mental -tendencies, William of Conches,[508] who likewise had been a pupil of -Bernard of Chartres. He was for a time the tutor of Henry Plantagenet. -William was interested in natural knowledge, and something of a humanist. -He made a Commentary on the _Timaeus_, and wrote various works on the -philosophy of Nature, in which he wavered around an atomistic explanation -of the world, yet held fast to the Biblical Creation, to save his -orthodoxy. He also pursued the study of medicine, which was a specialty at -Chartres; through the treatises of Constantinus Africanus[509] he had some -knowledge of the pathological theories of Galen and Hippocrates. For his -interest in physical knowledge, he may be regarded as a precursor of -Roger Bacon. On the other hand, he was a humanist in his strife against -those "Cornificiani" who would know no more Latin than was needful;[510] -and he compiled from the pagan moralists a sort of _Summa_. It is called, -in fact, a _Summa moralium philosophorum_ (an interesting title, -connecting it with the Christian _Summae sententiarum_).[511] It treats -the virtues under the head of _de honesto_; and under that of _de utile_, -reviews the other good things of mind, body, and estate. It also discusses -whether there may be a conflict between the _honestum_ and the _utile_. - -These men of the first half of the twelfth century lived before the new -revealing of the Aristotelian philosophy and natural knowledge coming at -the century's close. Their muster is finally completed by two younger men, -the one an Englishman and the other a Lowlander. The youthful years of -both synchronize with the old age of the men of whom we have been -speaking. For John of Salisbury was born not far from the year 1115, and -died in 1180; and Alanus de Insulis (Lille) was probably born in 1128, and -lived to the beginning of the next century. They are spiritually connected -with the older men because they were taught by them, and because they had -small share in the coming encyclopaedic knowledge. But they close the -group: John of Salisbury closing it by virtue of his critical estimate of -its achievement; Alanus by virtue of his final rehandling of the body of -intellectual data at its disposal, to which he may have made some slight -addition. Abaelard knew and used the simpler treatises of the Aristotelian -_Organon_ of logic. He had not studied the _Analytics_ and the _Topics_, -and of course was unacquainted with the body of Aristotle's philosophy -outside of logic. John of Salisbury and Alanus know the entire _Organon_; -but neither one nor the other knows the rest of Aristotle, which Alexander -of Hales was the first to make large use of. - -John of Salisbury, Little John, Johannes Parvus, as he was called, was the -best classical scholar of his time.[512] His was an acute and active -intellect, which never tired of hearing and weighing the views of other -men. He was, moreover, a man of large experience, travelling much, and -listening to all the teachers prominent in his youth. Also he was active -in affairs, being at one time secretary to Thibaut, Archbishop of -Canterbury, and then the intimate of Becket, of Henry II., and Pope Adrian -IV.! A finished scholar, who knew not one thing, but whatever might be -known, and was enlightened by the training of the world, Little John -critically estimates the learning and philosophy of the men he learns -from. Having always an independent point of view he makes acute remarks -upon it all, and admirable contributions to the sum of current thought. -But chiefly he seems to us as one who looks with even eye upon whatsoever -comes within his vision. He knows the weaknesses of men and the -limitations of branches of discipline; knows, for instance, that dialectic -is sterile by itself, but efficient as an aid to other disciplines. So, as -to logic, John keeps his own point of view, and is always reasonable and -practical.[513] Likewise, with open mind, he considers what there may be -in the alleged science of the Mathematicians, _i.e._ diviners and -astrologers. He uses such phrases as "_probabilia quidem sunt haec ... sed -tamen_ the venom lies under the honey!" For this science sets a fatal -necessity on things, and would even intrude into the knowledge of the -future reserved for God's majesty. And as John considers the order of -events to come, and the diviner's art, _cornua succrescunt_--the horns of -more than one dilemma grow.[514] - -John knew more than any man of the ancient philosophies.[515] For himself, -of course he loved knowledge; yet he would not dissever it from its value -in the art of living. "Wisdom indeed is a fountain, from which pour forth -the streams which water the whole earth; they fill not alone the garden of -delights of the divine page, but flow on to the Gentiles, and do not -altogether fail even the Ethiopians.... It is certain that the faithful -and wise reader, who from love keeps learning's watch, escapes vice and -draws near to life."[516] Philosophy is the _moderatrix omnium_ (a -favourite phrase with John); the true philosopher, as Plato says, is a -lover of God: and so _philosophia_ is _amor divinitatis_. Its precept is -to love God with all our strength, and our neighbour as ourselves: "He who -by philosophizing has reached _charitas_, has attained philosophy's true -end."[517] John goes on to show how deeply they err who think philosophy -is but a thing of words and arguments: many of those who multiply words, -by so doing burden the mind. Virtue inseparably accompanies wisdom; this -is John's sum of the matter. Clearly he is not always, or commonly, -wrestling with ultimate metaphysical problems; he busies himself, acutely -but not metaphysically, with the wisdom of life. He too can use the -language of piety and contemplation. In the sixth chapter of his _De -septem septenis_ (The seven Sevens) he gives the seven grades of -contemplation--_meditatio_, _soliloquium_, _circumspectio_, _ascensio_, -_revelatio_, _emissio_, _inspiratio_.[518] He presents the matter -succinctly, thus perhaps giving clarity to current pietistic phraseology. - -Alanus de Insulis was a man of renown in his life-time, and after his -death won the title of Doctor Universalis. Although the fame of scholar, -philosopher, theologian, poet, may have uplifted him during his years of -strength, he died a monk at Citeaux, in the year 1202. Fame came justly to -him, for he was learned in the antique literature, and a gifted Latin -poet, while as thinker and theologian he made skilful and catholic use of -his thorough knowledge of whatever the first half of the twelfth century -had achieved in thought and system. Elsewhere he has been considered as a -poet;[519] here we merely observe his position and accomplishment in -matters of salvation and philosophy.[520] - -Alanus possessed imagination, language, and a faculty of acute exposition. -His sentences, especially his definitions, are pithy, suggestive, and -vivid. He projected much thought as well as fantasy into his poem, -_Anticlaudianus_, and his _cantafable_, _De planctu naturae_. He showed -himself a man of might, and insight too, in his _Contra haereticos_. His -suggestive pithiness of diction lends interest to his encyclopaedia of -definitions, _Distinctiones dictionum theologicalium_; and his keen power -of reasoning succinctly from axiomatic premises is evinced in his _De arte -fidei catholicae_. - -The intellectual activities of Alanus fell in the latter decades of the -twelfth century, when mediaeval thought seemed for the moment to be -mending its nets, and preparing for a further cast in the new waters of -Aristotelianism. Alanus is busy with what has already been won; he is -unconscious of the new greater knowledge, which was preparing its -revelations. He is not even a man of the transition from the lesser to the -greater intellectual estate; but is rather a final compendium of the -lesser. Himself no epoch-making reasoner, he uses the achievements of -Abaelard and Hugo, of Gilbert de la Porree and William of Conches, and -others. Neither do his works unify and systematize the results of his -studies. He is rather a re-phraser. Yet his refashioning is not a mere -thing of words; it proceeds with the vitalizing power of the man's plastic -and creative temperament. One may speak of him as keen and acquisitive -intellectually, and creative through his temperament. - -Alanus shows a catholic receptivity for all the mingled strains of -thought, Platonic, Aristotelian, Neo-Platonic and Pythagorean, which fed -the labours of his predecessors. He has studied the older sources, the -_Timaeus_ fragment, also Apuleius and Boethius of course. His chief -blunder is his misconception of Aristotle as a logician and confuser of -words (_verborum turbator_)--a phrase, perhaps, consciously used with -poetic license. For he has made use of much that came originally from the -Stagirite. Within his range of opportunity, Alanus was a universal reader, -and his writings discover traces of the men of importance from -Pseudo-Dionysius and Eriugena down to John of Salisbury and Gundissalinus. - -These remarks may take the place of any specific presentation of Alanus's -work in logic, of his view of universals, of his notions of physics, of -nature, of matter and form, of man's mind and body, and of the Triune -Godhead.[521] In his cosmology, however, we may note his imaginatively -original employment of the conception or personification of Nature. God is -the Creator, and Nature is His creature, and His vice-regent or vicarious -maker, working the generation and decay of things material and -changeable.[522] This thought, imaginatively treated, makes a good part of -the poetry of the _De planctu_ and the _Anticlaudianus_. The conception -with him is full of charming fantasy, and we look back through Bernardus -Silvestris and other writers to Plato's divine fooling in the _Timaeus_, -not as the specific, but generic, origin of such imaginative views of the -contents and generation of the world. Such imaginings were as fantasy to -science, when compared with the solid and comprehensive consideration of -the material world which was to come a few years after Alanus's death -through the encyclopaedic Aristotelian knowledge presented in the works of -Alexander of Hales and Albertus Magnus. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII - -THE UNIVERSITIES, ARISTOTLE, AND THE MENDICANTS - - -Intellectually, the thirteenth century in western Europe is marked by -three closely connected phenomena: the growth of Universities, the -discovery and appropriation of Aristotle, and the activities of Dominicans -and Franciscans. These movements were universal, in that the range of none -of them was limited by racial or provincial boundaries. Yet a line may -still be drawn between Italy, where law and medicine were cultivated, and -the North, where theology with logic and metaphysics were supreme. -Absorption in these subjects produced a common likeness in the -intellectual processes of men in France, England, and Germany, whose -writings were to be no longer markedly affected by racial idiosyncrasies. -This was true of the logical controversy regarding universals, so -prominent in the first part of the twelfth century. It was very true of -the great intellectual movement of the later twelfth and the thirteenth -centuries, to wit, the coming of Aristotle to dominance, in spite of the -counter-currents of Platonic Augustinianism. - -The men who followed the new knowledge had slight regard for ties of home, -and travelled eagerly in search of learning. So, even as from far and wide -those who could study Roman law came to Bologna, the study of theology and -all that philosophy included drew men to Paris. Thither came the -keen-minded from Italy and from England; from the Low Countries and from -Germany; and from the many very different regions now covered by the name -of France. Wherever born and of whatever race, the devotees of philosophy -and theology at some period of their career reached Paris, learned and -taught there, and were affected by the universalizing influence of an -international aggregate of scholarship. So had it been with Breton -Abaelard, with German Hugo, and with Lombard Peter; so with English John, -hight of Salisbury. And in the following times of culmination, Albertus -Magnus comes in his maturity from Germany; and his marvellous pupil -Thomas, born of noble Norman stock in southern Italy, follows his master, -eventually to Paris. So Bonaventura of lowly mid-Italian birth likewise -learns and teaches there; and that unique Englishman, Roger Bacon, and -after him Duns Scotus. These few greatest names symbolize the centralizing -of thought in the crowded and huddled lecture-rooms of the City on the -Seine. - -The origins of the great mediaeval Universities can scarcely be -accommodated to simple statement. Their history is frequently obscure, and -always intricate; and the selection of a specific date or factor as -determining the inception, or distinctive development, of these mediaeval -creations is likely to be but arbitrary. They had no antique prototype: -nothing either in Athens or Rome ever resembled these corporations of -masters and students, with their authoritative privileges, their fixed -curriculum, and their grades of formally certified attainment. Even the -Alexandria of the Ptolemies, with all the pedantry of its learned -litterateurs and their minute study of the past, has nothing to offer like -the scholastic obsequiousness of the mediaeval University, which sought to -set upon one throne the antique philosophy and the Christian revelation, -that it might with one and the same genuflection bow down before them -both. It behoves us to advert to the conditions influencing the growth of -Universities, and give a little space to those which were chief among -them. - -The energetic human advance distinguishing the twelfth century in western -Europe exhibits among its most obvious phenomena an increased mobility in -all classes of society, and a tendency to gather into larger communities -and form strong corporate associations for profit or protection. New towns -came into being, and old ones grew apace. Some of them in the north of -Europe wrested their freedom from feudal lords; and both in the north and -south, municipalities attained a more complex organization, while within -them groups of men with common interests formed themselves into powerful -guilds. As strangers of all kinds--merchants, craftsmen, students--came -and went, their need of protection became pressing, and was met in various -ways. - -No kind of men were more quickly touched by the new mobility than the -thousands of youthful learners who desired to extend their knowledge, or, -in some definite field, perfect their education. In the eleventh century, -such would commonly have sought a monastery, near or far. In the twelfth -and then in the thirteenth, they followed the human currents to the -cities, where knowledge flourished as well as trade, and tolerable -accommodation might be had for teachers and students. Certain towns, some -for more, some for less, obvious reasons, became homes of study. Bologna, -Paris, Oxford are the chief examples. Irnerius, famed as the founder of -the systematic study of the Roman law, and Gratian, the equally famous -orderer of the Canon law, taught or wrote at Bologna when the twelfth -century was young. Their fame drew crowds of laymen and ecclesiastics, who -desired to equip themselves for advancement through the business of the -law, civil or ecclesiastical. At the same time, hundreds, which grew to -thousands, were attracted to the Paris schools--the school of Notre Dame, -where William of Champeaux held forth; the school of St. Victor, where he -afterwards established himself, and where Hugo taught; and the school of -St. Genevieve, where Abaelard lectured on dialectic and theology. These -were palpable gatherings together of material for a University. What first -brought masters and students to Oxford a few decades later is not so -clear. But Oxford had been an important town long before a University -lodged itself there. - -In the twelfth century, citizenship scarcely protected one beyond the city -walls. A man carried but little safety with him. Only an insignificant -fraction of the students at Bologna, and of both masters and students at -Paris and Oxford, were citizens of those towns. The rest had come from -everywhere. Paris and Bologna held an utterly cosmopolitan, international, -concourse of scholar-folk. And these scholars, turbulent enough -themselves, and dwelling in a turbulent foreign city, needed affiliation -there, and protection and support. Organization was an obvious necessity, -and if possible the erection of a _civitas_ within a _civitas_, a -University within a none too friendly town. This was the primal situation, -and the primal need. Through somewhat different processes, and under -different circumstances, these exigencies evoked a University in Bologna, -Paris, and Oxford.[523] - -In Italy, where the instincts of ancient Rome never were extinguished, -where some urban life maintained itself through the early helpless -mediaeval centuries, where during the same period an infantile humanism -did not cease to stammer; where "grammar" was studied and taught by -laymen, and the "ars dictaminis" practised men in the forms of legal -instruments, it was but natural that the new intellectual energies of the -twelfth century should address themselves to the study of the Roman law, -which, although debased and barbarized, had never passed into desuetude. -And inasmuch as abstract theology did not attract the Italian temperament -or meet the conditions of papal politics in Italy, it was likewise natural -that ecclesiastical energies should be directed to the equally useful and -closely related canon law. Such studies with their practical ends could -best be prosecuted at some civic centre. In the first part of the twelfth -century, Irnerius lectured at Bologna upon the civil law; a generation -later, Gratian published his _Decretum_ there. The specific reasons -inducing the former to open his lectures in that city are not known; but a -large and thrifty town set at the meeting of the great roads from central -Italy to the north and east, was an admirable place for a civil doctor and -his audience, as the event proved. Gratian was a monk in a Bologna -convent, and may have listened to Irnerius. The publication of his -_Decretum_ from Bologna, by that time (cir. 1142) famous for -jurisprudence, lent authority to this work, whose universal recognition -was to enhance in turn Bologna's reputation. - -From the time of this inception of juristic studies, the talents of the -doctors, and the city's fame, drew a prodigious concourse of students from -all the lands of western Europe. The Doctors of the Civil and Canon Laws -organized themselves into one, and subsequently into two, Colleges. -Apparently they had become an efficient association by the third quarter -of the twelfth century. But the University of Bologna was to be -constituted _par excellence_, not of one or more colleges of doctors, but -of societies of students. The persons who came for legal instruction were -not boys getting their first education in the Arts. They were men studying -a profession, and among them were many individuals of wealth and -consequence, holding perhaps civil or ecclesiastic office in the places -whence they came. The vast majority had this in common, that they were -foreigners, with no civil rights in Bologna. It behoved them to organize -for their protection and mutual support, and for the furtherance of the -purposes for which they had come. That a body of men in a foreign city -should live under the law of their own home, or the law of their own -making, did not appear extraordinary in the twelfth century. It was not so -long since the principle that men carried the law of their home with them, -had been widely recognized, and in all countries the clergy still lived -under the law of the Church. The gains accruing from the presence of a -great number of foreign students might induce the authorities of Bologna -to permit them to organize as student guilds, and regulate their affairs -by rules of their own, even as was done by other guilds in most Italian -cities. At Bologna the power of Guelf and Ghibeline clubs, and of -craftsmen's guilds, rivalled that of the city magistrates. - -There is some indirect evidence that these students first divided -themselves into four _Nationes_. If so, the arrangement did not last. For -by the middle of the thirteenth century they are found organized in two -_Universitates_, or corporations, a _Universitas Citramontanorum_ and a -_Universitas Ultramontanorum_; each under its own _Rector_. These two -corporations of foreign students constituted the University. The -Professors did not belong to them, and therefore were not members of the -University. Indeed they fought against the recognition of this University -of students, asserting that the students were but their pupils. But the -students prevailed, strong in their numbers, and in the weapon which they -did not hesitate to use, that of migration to another city, which cut off -the incomes of the Professors and diminished the repute and revenue of -Bologna. So great became the power of the student body, that it brought -the Professors to complete subjection, paying them their salaries, -regulating the time and mode of lecturing, and compelling them to swear -obedience to the Rectors. The Professors protested, but submitted. To make -good its domination over them, and its independence as against the city, -the student University migrated to Arezzo in 1215 and to Padua in -1222.[524] - -In origin as well as organization, the University of Paris differed from -Bologna. It was the direct successor of the cathedral school of Notre -Dame. This had risen to prominence under William of Champeaux. But -Abaelard drew to Paris thousands of students for William's hundreds (or at -least hundreds for William's tens); and Abaelard at the height of his -popularity taught at the school of St. Genevieve, across the Seine. -Therefore this school also, although fading out after Abaelard's time, -should be regarded as a causal predecessor of the Paris University. So, -for that matter, should the neighbouring school of St. Victor, founded by -the discomfited William; for its reputation under Hugo and Richard drew -devout students from near and far, and augmented the scholastic fame of -Paris. - -It was both the privilege and duty of the Chancellor of Notre Dame to -license competent Masters to open schools near the cathedral. In the -course of time, these Masters formed an Association, and assumed the right -to admit to their Society the licentiates of the Chancellor, to wit, the -new Masters who were about to begin to teach. In the decades following -Abaelard's death, the Masters who lectured in the vicinity of Notre Dame -increased in number. They spread with their schools beyond the island, and -taught in houses on the bridges. They were Masters, that is, teachers, in -the Arts. As the twelfth century gave way to the thirteenth, interest in -the Arts waned before the absorbing passion for metaphysical theology. -This was a higher branch of study, for which the Arts had come to be -looked on as a preparation. So the scholars of the schools of Arts became -impatient to graduate, that is, to reach the grade of Master, in order to -pass on to the higher study of theology. A result was that the course of -study in the Arts was shortened, while Masters multiplied in number. Their -Society seems to have become a definite and formal corporate body or -guild, not later than the year 1175. Herein was the beginning of the Paris -University. It had become a _studium generale_, like Bologna, because -there were many Masters, and students from everywhere were admitted to -study in their schools. - -Gradually the University came to full corporate existence. From about -1210, written statutes exist, passed by the Society of Masters; at the -same date a Bull of Innocent III. recognizes the Society as a Corporation. -Then began a long struggle for supremacy, between the Masters and the -Chancellor: it was the Chancellor's function to grant the licence to -become a Master; but it was the privilege of the Society to admit the -licentiate to membership. The action of both being thus requisite, time -alone could tell with whom the control eventually should rest. Was the -self-governing University to prevail, or the Chancellor of the Cathedral? -The former won the victory. - -The Masters in Arts constituted _par excellence_ the University, because -they far outnumbered the Masters in the upper Faculties of Theology, Law, -and Medicine. They were the dominant body; what they decided on, the other -Faculties acquiesced in. These Masters in Arts, besides being numerous, -were young, not older than the law students at Bologna. With their still -younger students,[525] they made the bulk of the entire University, and -were the persons who most needed protection in their lawful or unlawful -conduct. At some indeterminate period they divided themselves into the -four _Nationes_, French, Normans, Picards, and English. They voted by -_Nationes_ in their meetings; but from a period apparently as early as -their organization, a Rector was elected for all four _Nationes_, and not -one Rector for each. There were, however, occasional schisms or failures -to agree. It was to be the fortune of the Rector thus elected to supplant -the Chancellor of the Cathedral as the real head of the University. - -The vastly greater number of the Masters in Arts were actually _students_ -in the higher Faculties of Theology, Law,[526] or Medicine, for which -graduation in the Arts was the ordinary prerequisite. The Masters or -Doctors of these three higher Faculties, at least from the year 1213, -determined the qualifications of candidates in their departments. -Nevertheless the Rector of the Faculty of Arts continued his advance -toward the headship of the whole University. The oath taken by the -Bachelors in the Arts, of obedience to that Faculty and its Rector, was -strengthened in 1256, so as to bind the oath-taker so long as he should -continue a member of the University. - -The University had not obtained its privileges without insistence, nor -without the protest of action as well as word. Its first charter of -privileges from the king was granted in 1200, upon its protests against -the conduct of the Provost of Paris in attacking riotous students. Next, -in combating the jurisdiction of the Chancellor, it obtained privileges -from the Pope; and in 1229, upon failure to obtain redress for an attack -from the Provost's soldiers, ordered by the queen, Blanche of Castile, the -University dispersed. Thus it resorted to the weapon by which the -University of Bologna had won the confirmation of its rights. In the year -1231 the great Papal Bull, _Parens scientiarum_, finally confirmed the -Paris University in its contentions and demands: the right to suspend -lectures was sanctioned, whenever satisfaction for outrage had been -refused for fifteen days; likewise the authority of the University to -make statutes, and expel members for a breach of them. The Chancellor of -Notre Dame and the Bishop of Paris were both constrained by the same Bull. - -A different struggle still awaited the University, in which it was its -good fortune not to be altogether successful; for it was contending -against instruments of intellectual and spiritual renovation, to wit, the -Mendicant Orders. The details are difficult to unravel at this distance of -time. But the Dominicans and Franciscans, in the lifetime of their -founders, established themselves in Paris, and opened schools of theology. -Their Professors were licensed by the Chancellor, and yet seem to have -been unwilling to fall in with the customs of the University, and, for -example, cease from teaching and disperse, when it saw fit to do so. The -doctors of the theological Faculty became suspicious, and opposed the -admission of Mendicants to the theological Faculty. The struggle lasted -thirty years, until the Dominicans obtained two chairs in that Faculty, -and the Franciscans perhaps the same number, on terms which looked like a -victory for the Orders, but in fact represented a compromise; for the -Mendicant doctors in the end apparently submitted to the statutes of the -University.[527] - -The origin of Oxford University was different, and one may say more -adventitious than that of Paris or Bologna. For Oxford was not the capital -of a kingdom, nor is it known to have been an ancient seat of learning. -The city was not even a bishop's seat, a fact which had a marked effect -upon the constitution of the University. The old town lay at the edge of -Essex and Mercia, and its position early gave it importance politically, -or rather strategically, and as a place of trade. How or whence came the -nucleus of Masters and students that should grow into a University is -unknown. An interesting hypothesis[528] is that it was a colony from -Paris, shaken off by some academic or political disturbance. This surmise -has been connected with the year 1167. Some evidence exists of a school -having existed there before. Next comes a distinct statement from the year -1185, of the reading of a book before the Masters and students.[529] -After this date the references multiply. In 1209, one has a veritable -"dispersion," in protest against the hanging of some scholars. A charter -from the papal legate in 1214 accords certain privileges, among others -that a clerk arrested by the town should be surrendered on demand of the -Bishop of Lincoln[530] or the Archdeacon, or the Chancellor, whom the -Bishop shall set over the scholars. This document points to the beginning -of the chancellorship. The title probably was copied from Paris; but in -Oxford the office was to be totally different. The Paris Chancellor was -primarily a functionary of a great cathedral, who naturally maintained its -prerogatives against the encroachments of university privilege. But at -Oxford there was no cathedral; the Chancellor was the head of the -University, probably chosen from its Masters, and had chiefly its -interests at heart. - -Making allowance for this important difference in the Chancellor's office, -the development of the University closely resembled that of Paris. Its -first extant statute, of the year 1252, prescribes that no one shall be -licensed in Theology who has not previously graduated in the Arts. To the -same year belongs a settlement of disputes between the Irish and northern -scholars. The former were included in the _Australes_ or southerners, one -of the two _Nationes_ composing the Faculty of Arts. The _Australes_ -included the natives of Ireland, Wales, and England south of the Trent; -the other _Natio_, the _Boreales_, embraced the English and Scotch coming -from north of that river. But the division into _Nationes_ was less -important than in the cosmopolitan University of Paris, and soon ceased to -exist. The Faculty of Arts, however, continued even more dominant than at -Paris. There was no serious quarrel with the Mendicant Orders, who -established themselves at Oxford--the Dominicans in 1221, and the -Franciscans three years later. - -The curriculum of studies appears much the same at both Universities, and, -as followed in the middle of the thirteenth century, may be thus -summarized. For the lower degree of Bachelor of Arts, four or five years -were required; and three or four years more for the Master's privileges. -The course of study embraced grammar (Priscian), also rhetoric, and in -logic the entire _Organon_ of Aristotle, preceded by Porphyry's _Isagoge_, -and with the _Sex principia_ of Gilbert de la Porree added to the course. -The mathematical branches of the Quadrivium also were required: -arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy. And finally a goodly part of -the substantial philosophy of Aristotle was studied, with considerable -choice permitted to the student in his selection from the works of the -philosopher. At Oxford he might choose between the _Physics_ or the _De -coelo et mundo_, or the _De anima_ or the _De animalibus_. The -_Metaphysics_ and _Ethics_ or _Politics_ were also required before the -Bachelor could be licensed as a Master. - -In Theology the course of study was extremely lengthy, especially at -Paris, where eight years made the minimum, and the degree of Doctor was -not given before the candidate had reached the age of thirty-five. The -chief subjects were Scripture and the _Sentences_ of Peter Lombard. -Besides which, the candidate had to approve himself in sermons and -disputations. The latter might amount to a trial of nerve and endurance, -as well as proficiency in learning, since the candidate was expected to -_militare in scholis_, against a succession of opponents from six in the -morning till six in the evening, with but an hour's refreshment at -noon.[531] - -In spite of the many resemblances of Oxford to Paris in organization and -curriculum, the intellectual tendencies of the two Universities were not -altogether similar. At Paris, speculative theology, with metaphysics and -other branches of "philosophy," regarded as its adjuncts, were of -absorbing interest. At Oxford, while the same matters were perhaps -supreme, a closer scholarship in language or philology was cultivated by -Grosseteste, and his pupils, Adam of Marsh and Roger Bacon. The genius of -observation was stirring there; and a natural science was coming into -being, which was not to repose solely upon the authority of ancient books, -but was to proceed by the way of observation and experiment. Yet Roger -Bacon imposed upon both his philology and his natural science a certain -ultimate purpose: that they should subserve the surer ascertainment of -divine and saving truth, and thus still remain handmaids of theology, at -least in theory. - - * * * * * - -The year 1200 may be taken to symbolize the middle of a period notable for -the enlargement of knowledge. If one should take the time of this increase -to extend fifty years on either side of the central point, one might say -that the student of the year 1250 stood to his intellectual ancestor of -the year 1150, as a man in the full possession and use of the -_Encyclopaedia Britannica_ would stand toward his father who had saved up -the purchase money for the same. The most obvious cause of this was an -increasing acquaintance with the productions of the so-called Arabian -philosophy, and more especially with the works of Aristotle, first through -translations from the Arabic, and then through translations from the -Greek, which were made in order to obviate the insufficiency of the -former. - -It would need a long _excursus_ to review the far from simple course of -so-called Arabian thought, philosophic and religious. It begins in the -East, and follows the setting sun. Even before the Hegira (622) the Arabs -had rubbed up against the inhabitants of Syria, Christian in name, eastern -or Hellenic in culture and proclivity. Then in a century or two, when the -first impulsion of Mohammedan conquest was spent, the works of Aristotle -and his later Greek commentators were translated into Arabic from Syrian -versions, under the encouragement of the rulers of Bagdad. The Syrian -versions, as we may imagine, were somewhat eclecticized and, more -especially, Neo-Platonized. So it was not the pure Aristotle that passed -on into Arabic philosophy, but the Aristotelian substance interpreted -through later phases of Greek and Oriental thought. Still, Aristotle was -the great name, and his system furnished the nucleus of doctrine -represented in this Peripatetic eclecticism which was to constitute, _par -excellence_, Arabic philosophy. Also Greek mathematical and medical -treatises were translated into Arabic from Syrian versions. El-Farabi (d. -950) and Avicenna (980-1036) were the chief glories of the Arabic -philosophy of Bagdad. These two gifted men were commentators upon the -works of the Stagirite, and authors of many interesting lucubrations of -their own.[532] Arabian philosophy declined in the East with Avicenna's -death; but only to revive in Mussulman Spain. There its great -representative was Averroes, whose life filled the last three quarters of -the twelfth century. So great became his authority as an Aristotelian, -with the Scholastics, that he received the name of Commentator, _par -excellence_, even as Aristotle was _par excellence_, Philosophus. We need -not consider the ideas of these men which were their own rather than the -Stagirite's; nor discuss the pietistic and fanatical sects among the -Mussulmans, who either sought to harmonize Aristotle with the Koran, or -disapproved of Greek philosophy. One readily perceives that in its task of -acquisition and interpretation, with some independent thinking, and still -more temperamental feeling, Arabic philosophy was the analogue of -Christian scholasticism, of which it was, so to speak, the collateral -ancestor.[533] - -And in this wise. The Commentaries of Averroes, for example, were -translated into Latin; and, throughout all the mediaeval centuries, the -Commentary tended to supplant the work commented on, whether that work was -Holy Scripture or a treatise of Aristotle. By the middle of the thirteenth -century all the important works of Averroes had been translated into -Latin, and he had many followers at Paris; and before then, from the -College of Toledo, had come translations of the principal works of the -other chief Arabian philosophers. Of still greater importance for the -Christian West was the work of Jews and Christians in Spain and Provence, -in translating the Arabic versions of Aristotle into Latin, sometimes -directly, and sometimes first into Hebrew and then into Latin. They -attempted a literal translation, which, however, frequently failed to give -the significance even of the Arabic version. These Arabic-Latin -translations were of primary importance for the first introduction of -Aristotle to the theologian philosophers of Christian Europe. - -They were not to remain the only ones. In the twelfth century, a number of -Western scholars made excursions into the East; and the capture of -Constantinople by the Crusaders in 1204 enlarged their opportunities of -studying the Greek language and philosophy. Attempts at direct translation -into Latin began. One of the first translators was the sturdy Englishman, -Robert Grosseteste. He was born in Suffolk about 1175; studied at Lincoln, -then at Oxford, then at Paris, whence he returned to become Chancellor of -the University of Oxford. He was made Bishop of Lincoln in 1236, and died -seventeen years later. It was he who laid the foundation of the study of -Greek at Oxford, and Roger Bacon was his pupil. But the most important and -adequate translations were the work of two Dominicans, the Fleming, -William of Moerbeke, and Henry of Brabant, who translated the works of -Aristotle at the instance of Thomas Aquinas, possibly all working together -at Rome, in 1263 and the years following. Aquinas recognized the -inadequacy of the older translations, and based his own Aristotelian -Commentaries upon these made by his collaborators, learned in the Greek -tongue. The joint labour of translation and commentary seems to have been -undertaken at the command of Pope Urban IV., who had renewed the former -prohibitions put upon the use of Aristotle at the Paris University, in the -older, shall we say, Averroistic versions. - -If these prohibitions, which did not touch the logical treatises, were -meant to be taken absolutely, such had been far from their effect. In 1210 -and again in 1215, an interdict was put upon the _naturalis philosophia_ -and the _methafisica_ of the Stagirite. It was not revoked, but rather -provisionally renewed, in 1231, until those works should be properly -expurgated. A Commission was appointed which accomplished nothing; and the -old interdict still hung in the air, unrescinded, yet ignored in practice. -So Pope Urban referred to it as still effective--which it was not--in -1263. For Aristotle had been more and more thoroughly exploited in the -Paris University, and by 1255 the Faculty of Arts formally placed his -works upon the list of books to be studied and lectured upon.[534] - -So the founding of Universities and the enlarged and surer knowledge -brought by a study of the works of Aristotle were factors of power in the -enormous intellectual advance which took place in the last half of the -twelfth and the first half of the thirteenth century. Yet these factors -could not have operated as they did, but for the antecedent intellectual -development. Before the first half of the twelfth century had passed, the -patristic material had been mastered, along with the current notions of -antique philosophy, for the most part contained in it. Strengthened by -this discipline, men were prepared for an extension and solidifying of -their knowledge of the universe and man. Not only had they appropriated -what the available sources had to offer, but, when we think of Abaelard -and Hugo of St. Victor, we see that organic restatements had been made of -what had been acquired. Still, men really knew too little. It is very well -to exploit logic, and construct soul-satisfying schemes of cosmogonic -symbolism, in order to represent the deepest truth of the material world. -But the evident sense-realities of things are importunate. The minds even -of spiritual men may, in time, crave explanation of this side of their -consciousness. Abaelard seems to have been oblivious to natural phenomena; -Hugo recognizes them in order to elicit their spiritual meaning; and -Alanus de Insulis, a generation and more afterwards, takes a poet's view -of Nature. Other men had a more hard-headed interest in these phenomena; -but they knew too little to attempt seriously to put them together in -some sense-rational scheme. The natural knowledge presented by the -writings of the Church Fathers was little more than foolishness; the early -schoolmen were their heirs. They observed a little for themselves; but -very little. - -There is an abysmal difference in the amount of natural knowledge -exhibited by any writing of the twelfth century, and the works of Albertus -Magnus belonging say to the middle of the thirteenth. The obvious reason -of this is, that the latter had drawn upon the great volume of natural -observation and hypothesis which for the preceding five hundred years had -been actually closed to western Europe, and for five hundred years before -that had been spiritually closed, because of the ineptitude of men to read -therein. That volume was of course the encyclopaedic Natural Philosophy of -Aristotle, completed, and treated in its ultimate causal relationships, by -his Metaphysics. The Metaphysics, the First Philosophy, gave completeness -and unity to the various provinces of natural knowledge expounded in his -special treatises. For this reason, one finds in the works of Albertus a -fund of natural knowledge solid with the solidity of the earth upon which -one may plant his feet, and totally unlike the beautiful dreaming which -drew its prototypal origins from the skyey mind of Plato. - -The utilization of Aristotle's philosophy by the Englishman, Alexander of -Hales, who became a Franciscan near the year 1230, when he had already -lectured for some thirty years at Paris; its far more elaborate and -complete exposition by the very Teutonic Dominican, Albertus Magnus; and -its even closer exposition and final incorporation within the sum of -Christian doctrine, by Thomas,--this three-staged achievement is the great -mediaeval instance of return to a genuine and chief source of Greek -philosophy. These three schoolmen went back of the accounts and views of -Greek philosophy contained in the writings of the Fathers. And in so doing -they also went back of what was transmitted to the Middle Ages by Boethius -and other "transmitters."[535] - -But the achievement of these schoolmen had other import. Their work -represents the culmination of the third stage of mediaeval thought: that -of systematic and organic restatement of the substance of the patristic -and antique, with added elements; for there can be no organic restatement -which does not hold and present something from him who achieves it. The -result, attained at least by Thomas, was even more than this. Based upon -the data and assumptions of scholasticism, it was a complete and final -statement of the nature of God so far as that might be known, of the -creature world, corporeal and incorporeal, and especially of man, his -nature, his qualities, his relationship to God and final destiny. And -herein, in its completeness, it was satisfying. The human mind in seeking -explanation of the phenomena of its consciousness--presumably a reflex of -the universe without--tends to seek a unity of explanation. A unity of -explanation requires a completeness in the mental scheme of what is to be -explained. Thoughtful men in the Middle Ages craved a scheme of life -complete even in detail, which should educe life's currents from a primal -Godhead, and project them compacted, with none left straying or pointing -nowhither, on toward universal fulfilment of His will. - -Mediaeval thought had been preceded by whole views, entire schemes of -life. Greek philosophy had held only such from the time when Thales said -that water was the cause of all things. Plato's view or scheme also was -beautiful in its ideally pyramided structure, with the Idea of the Good at -the apex. For Aristotle, knowledge was to be a syllogistic, or at least -rational and jointed, encyclopaedia, rounded, unified, complete. After the -pagan times, another whole scheme was that of Augustine, or again, that of -Gregory the Great, though barbarized and hardened. Thus as patterns for -their own thinking, mediaeval men knew only of entire schemes of thought. -Their creed was, in every sense, a symbol of a completed scheme. And no -mediaeval philosopher or theologian suspected himself of fragmentariness. -Yet, in fact, at first they did but select and compile. After a century -and more of this, they began to make organic statements of parts of -Christian doctrine. So we have Anselm's _Proslogium_ and _Cur Deus Homo_. -Abaelard's _Theologia_ is far more complete; and so is Hugo's _De -sacramentis_, which offers an entire scheme, symbolical, sacramental, -Christian, of God and the world and man. Hugo's scheme might be ideally -satisfying; but little concrete knowledge was represented in it. And when -in the generations following his death, the co-ordinated Aristotelian -encyclopaedia was brought to light and studied, then and thereafter any -whole view of the world must take account of this new volume of argument -and concrete knowledge. Alexander of Hales begins the labour of using it -in a Christian _Summa_; Albertus makes prodigious advance, at least in the -massing and preparation of the full Aristotelian material. Both try for -whole views and comprehensive results. Then Thomas, most highly favoured -in his master Albert, and gifted with a genius for acquisition and -synthetic exposition, incorporates Aristotle, and Aristotle's whole views, -into the whole view presented by the Catholic Faith. - -Thomas's view, to be satisfying, had to be complete. It was knowledge -united and amalgamated into a scheme of salvation. But a scheme of -salvation is a chain, which can hold only in virtue of its completeness; -break one link, and it snaps; leave one rivet loose, and it may also snap. -A scheme of salvation must answer every problem put to it; a single -unanswered problem may imperil it. The problem, for example, of God's -foreknowledge and predestination--that were indeed an open link, which -Thomas will by no means leave unwelded. Hence for us modern men also, -whose views of the universe are so shamelessly partial, leaving so much -unanswered and so much unknown, the philosophy of Thomas may be restful, -and charm by its completeness. - -It is of great interest to observe the apparently unlikely agencies by -which this new volume of knowledge was made generally available. In fact, -it was the new knowledge and the demand for it that forced these agencies -to fulfil the mission of exploiting it. For they had been created for -other purposes, which they also fulfilled. Verily it _happened_ that the -chief means through which the new knowledge was gained and published were -the two new unmonastic Orders of monks, friars rather we may call them. -Francis of Assisi was born in 1182 and died in 1226; Dominic was born in -1177 and died in 1221. The Orders of Minorites and Preachers were founded -by them respectively in 1209 and 1215. Neither Order was founded to -promote secular knowledge. Francis organized his Minorites that they might -imitate the lives of Christ and His apostles, and preach repentance to the -world. Dominic founded his Order to save souls through preaching: "For our -Order is known from the beginning to have been instituted especially for -preaching and the saving of souls, and our study (_studium nostrum_) -should have as the chief object of its labour to enable us to be useful to -our neighbours' souls (_ut proximorum animabus possimus utiles -esse_)."[536] - -Within an apparent similarity of aim, each Order from the first reflected -the temper of its founder; and the temper of Francis was not that of -Dominic. For our purpose here, the difference may perhaps be symbolized by -the Dominican maxim to preach the Gospel throughout the world equally by -word and example (_verbo pariter et exemplo_); and the Franciscan maxim, -to exhort all _plus exemplo quam verbo_.[537] A generation later St -Bonaventura puts it thus: "Alii (scilicet, Praedicatores) principaliter -intendunt speculationi ... et postea unctioni. Alii (scilicet, Minores) -principaliter unctioni et postea speculationi."[538] - -It is safe to say that St Francis had no thought of secular studies; and -as for the Order of Preachers, the Constitutions of 1228 forbade the -Dominicans to study _libros gentilium and seculares scientias_. They are -to study _libros theologicos_.[539] Francis, also, recognized the -necessity of Scriptural study for those Minorites who were allowed to -preach. In these views the early Franciscans and Dominicans were not -peculiar; but rather represented the attitude of the older monastic Orders -and of the stricter secular clergy. The Gospel teaching of Christ had -nothing to do with secular knowledge--explicitly. But the first centuries -of the Church perceived that its defenders should be equipped with the -Gentile learning, into which indeed they had been born. And while Francis -was little of a theologian, and Dominic's personality and career remain -curiously obscure, one can safely say that both founders saw the need of -sacred studies, and left no authoritative expression prohibiting their -Orders from pursuing them to the best advantage for the cause of Christ. -Yet we are not called on to suppose that either founder, in founding his -Order for a definite purpose, foresaw all the means which after his death -might be employed to attain that purpose--or some other! - -The new Order cometh, the old rusteth. So has it commonly been with -Monasticism. Undoubtedly these uncloistered Orders embodied novel -principles of efficiency for the upholding of the Faith: their soldiers -marched abroad evangelizing, and did not keep within their fastnesses of -holiness. The Mendicant Orders were still young, and fresh from the -inspiration of their founders. In those years they moved men's hearts and -drew them to the ideal which had been set for themselves. The result was, -that in the first half of the thirteenth century the greater part of -Christian religious energy girded its loins with the cords of Francis and -Dominic. - -At the commencement of that century, when the Orders of Minorites and -Preachers were founded, the world of Western thought was prepared to make -its own the new Aristotelian volume of knowledge and applied reason. Once -that was opened and its contents perceived, the old -Augustinian-Neo-Platonic ways of thinking could no longer proceed with -their idealizing constructions, ignoring the pertinence of the new data -and their possible application to such presentations of Christian doctrine -as Hugo's _De sacramentis_ or the Lombard's _Sentences_. The new -knowledge, with its methods, was of such insistent import, that it had at -once to be considered, and either invalidated by argument, or accepted, -and perhaps corrected, and then accommodated within an enlarged Christian -Philosophy. - -The spiritual force animating a new religious movement attracts the -intellectual energies of the period, and furnishes them a new reality of -purpose. This was true of early Christianity, and likewise true of the -fresh religious impulse which proceeded from Francis's energy of love and -the organizing zeal of Dominic. From the very years of their foundation, -1209 and 1215, the rapid increase of the two Orders realized their -founders' visions of multitudes hurrying from among all nations to become -Minorites or Preachers. And more and more their numbers were recruited -from among the clergy. The lay members, important in the first years of -Francis's labours, were soon wellnigh submerged by the clericals; and the -educated or learned element became predominant in the Franciscan Order as -it was from the first in the Dominican. - -Consider for an instant the spread of the former. In 1216, Cardinal -Jacques of Vitry finds the Minorites in Lombardy, Tuscany, Apulia, and -Sicily. The next year five thousand are reported to have assembled at the -general meeting of the Order. Two years later Francis proceeds to carry -out his plan of world-conquest by apportioning the Christian countries, -and sending the brethren into France, Germany, Hungary, Spain, and -throughout Italy.[540] It was a period when in the midst of general -ignorance on the part of the clergy as well as laity, Universities -(_generalia studia_) were rising in Italy, France, and England. The popes, -Innocent III. (died 1216), Honorius III. (died 1221), and Gregory IX. -(died 1241), were seeking to raise the education and even the learning of -the Church. Their efforts found in the zeal of the Mendicants a ready -response which was not forthcoming from the secular clergy. The Mendicants -were zealous for the Faith, and loyal liegemen of the popes, who were -their sustainers and the guarantors of their freedom from local -ecclesiastical interference. What more fitting instruments could be found -to advance the cause of sacred learning at the Universities, and enlarge -it with the new knowledge which must either serve the Faith or be its -enemy. If all this was not evident in the first decades of the century, it -had become so by the middle of it, when the Franciscan Bonaventura and -the Dominicans Albertus and Thomas were the intellectual glories of the -time. And thus, while the ardour of the new Orders drew to their ranks the -learning and spiritual energy of the Church, the intellectual currents of -the time caught up those same Brotherhoods, which had so entrusted their -own salvation to the mission of saving other souls abroad in the world, -where those currents flowed. - -The Universities, above all _the_ University _par excellence_, were in the -hands of the secular clergy; and long and intricate is the story of their -jealous endeavours to exclude the Mendicants from Professors' chairs. The -Dominicans established themselves at Paris in 1217, the Franciscans two -years later. The former succeeded in obtaining one chair of theology at -the University in 1229, and a second in 1231; and about the same time the -Franciscans obtained their first chair, and filled it with Alexander of -Hales. When he died an old man, fifteen years later, they wrote upon his -tomb: - - "Gloria Doctorum, decus et flos Philosophorum, - Auctor scriptorum vir Alexander variorum," - -closing the epitaph with the words: "primus Doctor eorum," to wit, of the -Minorites. He was the author of the first _Summa theologiae_, in the sense -in which that term fits the work of Albert and Thomas. And there is no -harm in repeating that this _Summa_ of Alexander's was the first work of a -mediaeval schoolman in which use was made of the physics, metaphysics, and -natural history, of Aristotle.[541] He died in 1245, when the Franciscans -appear to have possessed two chairs at the University. One of them was -filled in 1248 by Bonaventura, who nine years later was taken from his -professorship, to become Minister-General of his Order. It was indeed only -in this year 1257 that the University itself had been brought by papal -injunctions formally to recognize as _magister_ this most eloquent of the -Franciscans, and the greatest of the Dominicans, Thomas Aquinas. The -latter's master, Albert, had been recognized as _magister_ by the -University in 1245. - -Before the intellectual achievements of these two men, the Franciscan fame -for learning paled. But that Order went on winning fame across the -Channel, which the Dominicans had crossed before them. In 1224 they came -to Oxford, and were received as guests by an establishment of Dominicans: -this was but nine years after the foundation of the preaching Order! -Perhaps the Franciscan glories overshone the Dominican at Oxford, where -Grosseteste belongs to them and Adam of Marsh and Roger Bacon. But -whichever Order led, there can be no doubt that together they included the -greater part of the intellectual productivity of the maturing thirteenth -century. Nevertheless, in spite of the vast work of the Orders in the -field of secular knowledge, it will be borne in mind that the advancement -of _sacra doctrina_, theology, the saving understanding of Scripture, was -the end and purpose of all study with Dominicans and Franciscans, as it -was universally with all orthodox mediaeval schoolmen; although for many -the nominal purpose seems a mere convention. Few men of the twelfth or -thirteenth century cared to dispute the principle that the _Carmina -poetarum_ and the _Dicta philosophorum_ "should be read not for their own -sake, but in order that we may learn holy Scripture to the best advantage: -I say they are to be offered as first-fruits, for we should not grow old -in them, but spring from their thresholds to the sacred page, for whose -sake we were studying them for a while."[542] - -Within the two Orders, especially the Franciscan, men differed sharply as -to the desirability of learning. So did their contemporaries among the -secular clergy, and their mediaeval and patristic predecessors as far back -as Clement of Alexandria and Tertullian. On this matter a large variance -of opinion might exist within the compass of orthodoxy; for Catholicism -did not forbid men to value secular knowledge, provided they did not -cleave to opinions contradicting Christian verity. This was heresy, and -indeed was the sum of what was called Averroism, the chief intellectual -heresy of the thirteenth century. It consisted in a sheer following of -Aristotle and his infidel commentator, wheresoever the opinions of the -Philosopher, so interpreted, might lead. They were not to be corrected in -the interest of Christian truth. A representative Averroist, and one so -important as to draw the fire of Aquinas, as well as the censures of the -Church, was Siger de Brabant. He followed Aristotle and his commentator in -maintaining: The universal oneness of the (human) intelligence, the _anima -intellectiva_, an opinion which involved the denial of an individual -immortality, with its rewards and punishments; the eternity of the visible -world,--uncreated and everlasting; a rational necessitarianism which -precluded freedom of human action and moral responsibility. - -It would be hard to find theses more fundamentally opposed to the -Christian Faith. Yet Siger may have deemed himself a Christian. With other -Averroists, he sought to preserve his religious standing by maintaining -that these opinions were true according to philosophy, but not according -to the Catholic Faith: "Dicunt enim ea esse vera secundum philosophiam, -sed non secundum fidem catholicam."[543] With what sincerity Siger held -this untenable position is hard to say. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII - -BONAVENTURA - - -The range and character of the ultimate intellectual interests of the -thirteenth century may be studied in the works of four men: St. -Bonaventura, Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas, and lastly, Roger Bacon. The -first and last were as different as might be; and both were Franciscans. -Albertus and Thomas represent the successive stages of one achievement, -the greatest in the course of mediaeval thought. In some respects, their -position is intermediate between Bonaventura and Bacon. Bonaventura -reflects many twelfth-century ways of thinking; Albert and Thomas embody -_par excellence_ the intellectual movement of the thirteenth century in -which they all lived; and Roger Bacon stands for much, the exceeding -import of which was not to be recognized until long after he was -forgotten. The four were contemporaries, and, with the possible exception -of Bacon, knew each other well. Thomas was Albert's pupil; Thomas and -Bonaventura taught at the same time in the Faculty of Theology at Paris, -and stood together in the academic conflict between their Orders and the -Seculars. Albertus and Bonaventura also must have known each other, -teaching at the same time in the theological faculty. As for Bacon, he was -likewise at Paris studying and teaching, when the others were there, and -may have known them.[544] Albert and Thomas came of princely stock, and -sacrificed their fortune in the world for theology's sake. Bacon's family -was well-to-do; Bonaventura was lowly born. - -John of Fidanza, who under the name of Bonaventura was to become -Minister-General of his Order, Cardinal, Saint, and _Doctor Seraphicus_, -saw the light in the Tuscan village of Bagnorea. That he was of Italian, -half Latin-speaking, stock is apparent from his own fluent Latin. Probably -in the year 1238, when seventeen years old, he joined the Franciscan -Order; and four years later was sent to Paris, where he studied under -Alexander of Hales. In 1248 he was licensed to lecture publicly, and -thenceforth devoted himself at Paris to teaching and writing, and -defending his Order against the Seculars, until 1257, when, just as the -University conferred on him the title of Magister, he was chosen -Minister-General of his Order, in the thirty-seventh year of his age. The -greater part of his writings were composed before the burdens of this -primacy drew him from his studies. He was still to become Prince of the -Church, for he was made Cardinal of Albano in 1273, the year before his -death. - -For all the Middle Ages the master in theology was Augustine. Either he -was studied directly in his own writings, or his views descended through -the more turbid channels of the works of men he influenced. Mediaeval -theology was overwhelmingly Augustinian until the middle of the thirteenth -century; and since theology was philosophy's queen, mediaeval philosophy -conformed to that which Augustine employed in his theology. This, if -traced backward to its source, should be called Platonism, or -Neo-Platonism if we turn our mind to the modes in which Augustine made use -of it. His Neo-Platonism was not unaffected by Peripatetic and later -systems of Greek philosophy; yet it was far more Platonic than Stoical or -Aristotelian. - -Those first teachers, who in the maturity of their powers became Brothers -Minorites, were Augustinians in theology, and consequently Platonists, in -so far as Platonism made part of Augustine's doctrines. Thus it was with -the first great teacher at the Minorites school in Oxford, Robert -Grosseteste, and with the first great Minorite teacher at Paris, Alexander -of Hales. Both of these men were promoters of the study of Aristotle; yet -neither became so imbued with Aristotelianism as to revise either his -theological system or the Platonic doctrines which seemed germane to it. -Moreover, in so far as we may imagine St. Francis to have had a theology, -we must feel that Augustine, with his hand on Plato's shoulder, would have -been more congenial to him than Aristotle. And so in fact it was to be -with his Order. Augustine's fervent piety, his imagination and religious -temperament, held the Franciscans fast. Surely he was very close to the -soul of that eloquent Franciscan teacher, who called Alexander of Hales -"master and father," sat at his feet, and never thought of himself as -delivering new teachings. It would have been strange indeed if Bonaventura -had broken from the influences which had formed his soul, this Bonaventura -whose most congenial precursor lived and wrote and followed Augustine far -back in the twelfth century, and bore the name of Hugo of St. Victor. -Bonaventura's writings did much to fix Augustinianism upon his Order; -rivalry with the Dominicans doubtless helped to make it fast; for the -latter were following another system under the dominance of their two -Titan leaders, who had themselves come to maturity with the new -Aristotelian influences, whereof they were _magna pars_. - -But just as Grosseteste and Alexander made use of what they knew of -Aristotle, so Bonaventura had no thought of misprizing him who was -becoming in western Europe "the master of those who know." In specific -points this wise Augustinian might prefer Aristotle to Plato. For example, -he chose to stand, with the former, upon the _terra firma_ of sense -perception, rather than keep ever on the wing in the upper region of ideal -concepts. - - "Although the _anima_, according to Augustine, is linked to eternal - principles (_legibus aeternis_), since somehow it does reach the light - of the higher reason, still it is unquestionable, as the Philosopher - says, that cognition originates in us by the way of the senses, of - memory, and of experience, out of which the universal is deduced, - which is the beginning of art and knowledge (_artis et scientiae_). - Hence, since Plato referred all certain cognition to the intelligible - or ideal world, he was rightly criticized by Aristotle. Not because he - spoke ill in saying that there are _ideas_ and eternal _rationes_; but - because, despising the world of sense, he wished to refer all certain - cognition to those Ideas. And thus, although Plato seems to make firm - the path of wisdom (_sapientiae_) which proceeds according to the - eternal _rationes_, he destroys the way of knowledge, which proceeds - according to the _rationes_ of created things (_rationes creatas_). So - it appears that, among philosophers, the word of wisdom (_sermo - sapientiae_) was given to Plato, and the word of knowledge - (_scientiae_) to Aristotle. For that one chiefly looked to the things - above, and this one considered things below.[545] But both the word of - wisdom and of knowledge, through the Holy Spirit, was given to - Augustine, as the pre-eminent declarer of the entire Scripture."[546] - -So there is Aristotelian ballast in Bonaventura's Platonic-Augustinian -theology. His chief divergence from Albert and Thomas (who, of course, -likewise held Augustine in honour, and drew on Plato when they chose) is -to be found in his temperamental attitude, toward life, toward God, or -toward theology and learning. His Augustinian soul held to the -pre-eminence of the _good_ above the _true_, and tended to shape the -second to the first. So he maintained the primacy of _willing_ over -knowing. Man attains God through goodness of will and through love. The -way of knowledge is less prominent with Bonaventura than with Aquinas. -Surely the latter, and his master Albert, saw the main sanction of secular -knowledge in its ministry to _sacra doctrina_; but their hearts may seem -to tarry with the handmaid. Bonaventura's position is the same; but his -heart never tarries with the handmaid; for with him heart and mind are -ever constant to the queen, Theology. Yet he recognizes the queen's need -of the handmaid. Holy Writ is not for babes; the fulness of knowledge is -needed for its understanding: "Non potest intelligi sacra Scriptura sine -aliarum scientiarum peritia."[547] And without philosophy many matters of -the Faith cannot be intelligently discussed. There is no knowledge which -may not be sanctified to the purpose of understanding Scripture; only let -this purpose really guide the mind's pursuits. - -Bonaventura wrote a short treatise to emphasize these universally admitted -principles, and to show how every form of human knowledge conformed to the -supreme illumination afforded by Scripture, and might be reduced to the -terms and methods of Theology, which is Scripture rightly understood. He -named the tract _De reductione artium ad theologiam_[548] (The leading -back of the Arts to Theology). - - "'Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the - Father of lights,' says James. This indicates the source of all - illumination, and the streaming of all enlightenment from that fontal - light. While every illumination is inner knowledge (_omnis illuminatio - cognitio interna sit_) we may distinguish the external light, (_lumen - exterius_), to wit, the light of mechanical art; the lower light, to - wit, the light of sense perception; the interior light, to wit, the - light of philosophical cognition; the superior light, to wit, the - light of grace and Holy Scripture. The first illuminates as to the - arts and crafts; the second as to natural form; the third as to - intellectual truth; the fourth as to saving truth." - -He enumerates the mechanical arts, drawing from Hugo of St. Victor; then -he follows with Augustine's explanation of the second _lumen_, as that -which discerns corporeal things. He next speaks of the third _lumen_ which -lightens us to the investigation of truths intelligible, scrutinizing the -truth of words (Logic), or the truth of things (Physics), or the truth of -morals (Ethics). The fourth _lumen_, of Holy Scripture, comes not by -seeking, but descends through inspiration from the Father of lights. It -includes the literal, the spiritual, moral and anagogic signification of -Scripture, teaching the eternal generation and incarnation of Christ, the -way to live, and the union of God and the soul. The first of these -branches pertains to faith, the second to morals, and the third to the aim -and end of both. - -"Let us see," continues Bonaventura, "how the other illuminations have to -be reduced to the light of Holy Scripture. And first as to the -illumination from sense cognition, as to which we consider its means, its -exercise, and its delight (_oblectamentum_)." Its means is the Word -eternally generated, and incarnated in time; its exercise is in the sense -perception of an ordered way of living, following the suitable and -avoiding the nocuous; and as for its object of delight, as every sense -pursues that which delights it, so the sense of our heart should seek the -beautiful, harmonious, and sweet-smelling. In this way divine wisdom -dwells hidden in sense cognition. - -Next, as to the illumination of mechanical art, which is concerned with -the production of the works of craft. Herein likewise may be observed -analogies with the light from Holy Scripture, which reveals the Word, the -order of living, and the union of God and the soul. No creature proceeds -from the great Artificer, save through the Word; and the human artificer -works to produce a beautiful, useful, and enduring work; which corresponds -to the Scriptural order of living. Each human artificer makes his work -that it may bring him praise or use or delight; as God made the rational -soul, to praise and serve and take delight in Him, through love. - -By similar methods of reasoning Bonaventura next "reduces," or leads back, -Logic, and Natural and Moral Philosophy to the ways and purposes of -Theology, and shows how "the multiform wisdom of God, which is set forth -lucidly by Scripture, lies hidden in every cognition, and in every nature. -It is also evident that all kinds of knowledge minister to Theology; and -that Theology takes illustrations, and uses phrases, pertaining to every -kind of knowledge (_cognitionis_). It is also plain how ample is the -illuminating path, and how in every thing that is sensed or perceived, God -himself lies concealed."[549] - -Ways of reasoning change, while conclusions sometimes endure. -Bonaventura's reasoning in the above treatise is for us abstruse and -fanciful; yet many will agree with the conclusion, that all kinds of -knowledge may minister to our thought of God, and of man's relationship to -Him. And with Bonaventura, all his knowledge, his study of secular -philosophy, his logic and powers of presentation, had theology unfailingly -in view, and ministered to the satisfaction, the actualization (to use -our old word) of his religious nature. He belongs among those -intellectually gifted men--Augustine, Anselm, Hugo of St. Victor--whose -mental and emotional powers draw always to God, and minister to the -conception of the soul's union with the living spring of its being. The -life, the labours of Bonaventura were as the title of the little book we -have just been worrying with, a _reductio artium ad theologiam_, a -constant adapting of all knowledge and ways of meditation, to the sense of -God and the soul's inclusion in the love divine. No one should expect to -find among his compositions any independent treatment of secular knowledge -for its own sake. Rather throughout his writings the reasonings of -philosophy are found always ministering to the sovereign theme. - -The most elaborate of Bonaventura's doctrinal works was his Commentary -upon the Lombard's _Sentences_. In form and substance it was a _Summa -theologiae_.[550] He also made a brief and salutary theological compend, -which he called the _Breviloquium_.[551] The note of devotional piety is -struck by the opening sentence, taken from the Epistle to the Ephesians, -and is held throughout the work: - - "'I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from whom - the whole fatherhood in heaven and earth is named, that He would grant - you according to the riches of His glory to be strengthened by His - Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts through - faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to - comprehend with all saints, what is the breadth and length and height - and depth; and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, - that ye might be filled in all the fulness of God.' The great doctor - of the Gentiles discloses in these words the source, progress, and - state (_ortus_, _progressus_, _status_) of Holy Scripture, which is - called Theology; indicating that the _source_ is to be thought upon - according to the grace (_influentiam_) of the most blessed Trinity; - the _progress_ with reference to the needs of human capacity; and the - _state_ or fruit with respect to the superabundance of a superplenary - felicity. - - "For the _Source_ lies not in human investigation, but in divine - revelation, which flows from the Father of lights, from whom all - fatherhood in heaven and earth is named, from whom, through His Son - Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit flows in us; and through the Holy Spirit - bestowing, as He wills, gifts on each, faith is given, and through - faith Christ dwells in our hearts. This is the knowledge of Jesus - Christ, from which, as from a source, comes the certitude and - understanding of the whole Scripture. Wherefore it is impossible that - any one should advance in its knowledge, unless he first has Christ - infused in him.... - - "The _Progress_ of Holy Scripture is not bound to the laws of - reasonings and definitions, like the other sciences; but, conformably - to supernatural light, proceeds to give to man the wayfarer (_homini - viatori_) a knowledge of things sufficing for his salvation, by plain - words in part, and in part mystically: it presents the contents of the - universe as in a _Summa_, in which is observed the _breadth_; it - describes the descent (from above) in which is considered the - _length_; it describes the goodness of the saved, in which is - considered the _height_; it describes the misery of the damned, in - which consists the _depth_ not only of the universe itself but of the - divine judgment.... - - "The _State_ or fruit of Holy Scripture is the plentitude of eternal - felicity. For the Book containing words of eternal life was written - not only that we might believe, but that we might have eternal life, - in which we shall see, we shall love, and all our desires shall be - filled, whereupon we shall know the love which passeth knowledge, and - be filled in all the fulness of God.... - - "As to the _progress_ of Scripture, first is to be considered the - _breadth_, which consists in the multitude of parts.... Rightly is - Holy Scripture divided into the Old and New Testament, and not in - _theorica_ and _practica_, like philosophy; because since Scripture is - founded on the knowledge of faith, which is a virtue and the basis of - morals, it is not possible to separate in Scripture the knowledge of - things, or of what is to be believed, from the knowledge of morals. It - is otherwise with philosophy, which handles not only the truth of - morals, but the true, speculatively considered. Then as Holy Scripture - is knowledge (_notitia_) moving to good and recalling from evil, - through fear and love, so it is divided into two Testaments, whose - difference, briefly, is fear and love.... - - "Holy Scripture has also _length_, which consists in the description - of times and ages from the beginning to the day of Judgment.... The - progress of the whole world is described by Scripture, as in a - beautiful poem, wherein one may follow the descent of time, and - contemplate the variety, manifoldness, equity, order, righteousness, - and beauty of the multitude of divine judgments proceeding from the - wisdom of God ruling the world: and as with a poem, so with this - ordering of the world, one cannot see its beauty save by considering - the whole.... - - "No less has Sacred Scripture _height_ (_sublimitatem_), consisting - in description of the ranged hierarchies, the ecclesiastical, - angelic, and divine.... Even as things have _being_ in matter or - nature, they have also being in the _anima_ through its acquired - knowledge; they have also _being_ in the _anima_ through grace, also - through glory; and they have also being in the way of the eternal--in - _arte aeterna_. Philosophy treats of things as they are in nature, or - in the _anima_ according to the knowledge which is naturally implanted - or acquired. But theology as a science (_scientia_) founded upon faith - and revealed by the Holy Spirit, treats of those matters which belong - to grace and glory and to the eternal wisdom. Whence placing - philosophic cognition beneath itself, and drawing from nature (_de - naturis rerum_) as much as it may need to make a mirror yielding a - reflection of things divine, it constructs a ladder which presses the - earth at the base, and touches heaven at the top: and all this through - that one hierarch Jesus Christ, who through his assumption of human - nature, is hierarch not in the ecclesiastical hierarchy alone, but - also in the angelic; and is the medial person in the divine hierarchy - of the most blessed Trinity."[552] - -The _depth_ (_profunditas_) of Scripture consists in its manifold mystic -meanings. It reveals these meanings of the creature world for the -edification of man journeying to his fatherland. Scripture throughout its -_breadth_, _length_, _height_, and _depth_ uses narrative, threat, -exhortation, and promise all for one end. "For this _doctrina_ exists in -order that we may become good and be saved, which comes not through naked -consideration, but rather through inclination of the will.... Here -examples have more effect than arguments, promises are more moving than -ratiocinations, and devotion is better than definition." Hence Scripture -does not follow the method and divisions of other sciences, but uses its -own diverse means for its saving end. The Prologue closes with rules of -Scriptural interpretation.[553] - -In our plan of following what is of human interest in mediaeval philosophy -or theology, prologues and introductions are sometimes of more importance -than the works which they preface; for they disclose the writer's intent -and purpose, and the endeavour within him, which may be more intimately -himself, than his performance. So more space has been given to -Bonaventura's Prologue than the body of the treatise will require. The -order of topics is that of the Lombard's _Sentences_ or Aquinas's _Summa_. -Seven successive _partes_ consider the Trinity, the creation, the -corruption from sin, the Incarnation, the grace of the Holy Spirit, the -sacramental medicine, and the Last Judgment. Each _pars_ is divided into -chapters setting forth some special topic. Bonaventura's method, pursued -in every chapter, is to state first the scriptural or dogmatic -propositions, and then give their reason, which he introduces with such -words as: _Ratio autem ad praedictorum intelligentiam haec est_. The work -is a complete systematic compend of Christian theology; its conciseness -and lucidity of statement are admirable. For an example of its method and -quality, the first chapter of the sixth part may be given, upon the origin -of Sacraments. - - "Having treated of the Trinity of God, of the creation of the world, - the corruption of sin, the incarnation of the Word, and the grace of - the Holy Spirit, it is time to treat of the sacramental medicine, - regarding which there are seven matters to consider: the origin of the - sacraments, their variation, distinction, appointment, dispensation, - repetition, and the integrity of each. - - "Concerning[554] the origin of the Sacraments this is to be held, that - sacraments are sensible signs divinely appointed as medicaments, in - which under cover of things sensible, divine virtue secretly operates; - also that from likeness they represent, from appointment they signify, - from sanctification they confer, some spiritual grace, through which - the soul is healed from the infirmities of vice; and for this as their - final end they are ordained; yet they avail for humility, instruction, - and exercise as for a subsidiary end. - - "The reason and explanation of the aforesaid is this: The reparative - principle (_principium_), is Christ crucified, to wit, the Word - incarnate, that directs all things most compassionately because - divine, and most compassionately heals because divinely incarnate. It - must repair, heal, and save the sick human race, in a way suited to - the sick one, the sickness and the occasion of it, and the cure of the - sickness. The physician is the incarnate Word, to wit, God invisible - in a visible nature. The sick man is not simply spirit, nor simply - flesh, but spirit in mortal flesh. The disease is original sin, which - through ignorance infects the mind, and through concupiscence - infects the flesh. While the origin of this fault primarily lay in - reason's consent, yet its occasion came from the senses of the body. - Consequently, in order that the medicine should correspond to these - conditions, it should be not simply spiritual, but should have - somewhat of sensible signs; for as things sensible were the occasion - of the soul's falling, they should be the occasion of its rising - again. Yet since visible signs of themselves have no efficiency - ordained for grace, although representative of its nature, it was - necessary that they should by the author of grace be appointed to - signify and should be blessed in order to sanctify; so that there - should be a representation from natural likeness, a signification from - appointment, and a sanctification and preparedness for grace from the - added benediction, through which our soul may be cured and made whole. - - "Again, since curative grace is not given to the puffed up, the - unbelieving, and disdainful, so these sensible signs divinely given, - ought to be such as not only would sanctify and confer grace, and - heal, but also would instruct by their signification, humble by their - acceptance, and exercise through their diversity; that thus through - exercise despondency (_acedia_) should be shut out from the - desiderative [nature], through instruction ignorance be shut out from - the rational [nature], through humiliation pride be shut out from the - irascible [nature], and the whole soul become _curable_ by the grace - of the Holy Spirit, which remakes us according to these three - capacities (_potentias_)[555] into the image of the Trinity and - Christ. Finally, whereas the grace of the Holy Spirit is received - through these sensible signs divinely appointed, it is found in them - as an accident. Hence sacraments of this kind are called the vessels - and cause of grace: not that grace is of their substance or produced - by them as by a cause; for its place is in the soul, and it is infused - by God alone; but because it is ordained by divine decree, that in - them and through them we shall draw the grace of cure from the supreme - physician, Christ; although God has not fettered His grace to the - sacraments.[556] - - "From the premises, therefore, appears not only what may be the origin - of the sacraments, but also the use and fruit. For their origin is - Christ the Lord; their use is the act which exercises, teaches, and - humbles; their fruit is the cure and salvation of men. It is also - evident that the efficient cause of the sacraments is the divine - appointment; their material cause is the figurement of the sensible - sign; their formal cause the sanctification by grace; their final - cause the medicinal healing of men. And because they are named from - their form and end they are called sacraments, as it were - _medicamenta sanctificantia_. Through them the soul is led back from - the filth of vice to perfect sanctification. And so, although - corporeal and sensible, they are medicinal, and to be venerated as - holy because they signify holy mysteries, and make ready for the holy - gifts (_charismata_) given by most holy God; and they are divinely - consecrated by holy institution and benediction for the holiest - worship of God appointed in holy church, so that rightly they should - be called sacraments." - -The _Breviloquium_ was Bonaventura's rational compendium of Christian -theology. It offered in brief compass as complete a system as the bulkiest -_Summa_ could carry out to doctrinal elaboration. Quite different in -method and intent was his equally famous _Itinerarium mentis in -Deum_,[557] the praise of which, according to the great Chancellor Gerson, -could not fitly be uttered by mortal mouth. We have seen how in the -_Reductio artium ad theologiam_ Bonaventura conformed all modes of -perception and knowledge to the uses and modes of theology; the final end -of which is man's salvation, consisting in the union of the soul with God, -through every form of enlightenment and all the power of love. The -_Breviloquium_ has given the sum of Christian doctrine, an intelligent and -heart-felt understanding of which leads to salvation. And now the -_Itinerarium_--well, it is best to let Bonaventura tell how he came to -compose it, and of its purpose and character. - - "Since, after the example of our most blessed father Francis, I pant - in spirit for the peace which he preached in the manner of our Lord - Jesus Christ, I a sinner who am the seventh, all unworthy, - Minister-General of the Brethren,--it happened that by God's will in - the thirty-third year after our blessed father's death, I turned aside - to the mountain of Alverna, as to a quiet place, seeking the spirit's - peace. While I lingered there my mind dwelt on the ascensions of the - spirit, and, among others, on the miracle which in that very spot came - to blessed Francis, when he saw the winged Seraph in the likeness of - the Crucified. And it seemed to me his vision represented the - suspension of our father in contemplation, and the way by which he - came to it. For by those six wings may be understood the suspensions - of the six illuminations, by which the soul, as by steps and journeys, - through ecstatic outpourings of Christian wisdom, is prepared to pass - beyond to peace. For the way lies only through love of the - Crucified, which so transformed Paul carried to the third heaven, that - he could say: 'I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet - not I, but Christ liveth in me.' So the image of the six seraph's - wings represents the six rungs of illumination, which begin with the - creatures and lead on to God, to whom no one can come save through the - Crucified.... - - "For one is not prepared for the divine contemplations, which lead to - the rapt visions of the mind, unless he be with Daniel, a man of - desires.[558] Desires are stirred within us by the cry of prayer and - the bright light of speculation. I shall invite the reader first to - the sighings of prayer through Christ crucified, lest perchance he - believe that study might suffice without unction, or diligence without - piety, knowledge without charity, zeal without divine grace, or the - mirror (_speculum_) without the wisdom divinely inspired. Then to - those humble and devout ones, to whom grace first has come, to those - lovers of the divine wisdom, who burn with desire of it, and are - willing to be still, for the magnifying of God, I shall propose - pertinent speculations, showing how little or nothing is it to turn - the mirror outward unless the mirror of our mind be rubbed and - polished." - -Thus Bonaventura writes his prologue to this devotional tract, which will -also hold "pertinent speculations." Remarkable is the intellectuality and -compacted thought which he fuses in emotional expression. He will write -seven chapters, on the seven steps, or degrees, in the ascent to God, -which is the mind's true _itinerarium_. Since we cannot by ourselves lift -ourselves above ourselves, prayer is the very mother and source of our -upward struggle. Prayer opens our eyes to the steps in the ascent. Placed -in the universe of things, we find in it the corporeal and temporal -footprint (_vestigium_) leading into the way of God. Then we enter our -mind, which is the everlasting and spiritual image of God; and this is to -enter the truth of God. Whereupon we should rise above us to the eternal -most spiritual first cause; and this is to rejoice in the knowledge of -God's majesty. This is the threefold illumination, by which we recognise -the triple existence of things, in matter, in the intelligence, and in the -divine way--_in arte divina_. And likewise our mind has three outlooks, -one upon the corporeal world without, which is called sense, another into -and within itself, which is called _spiritus_, and a third above itself, -which is called _mens_. By means of all three, man should set himself to -rising toward God, and love Him with the whole mind, and heart, and soul. - -Then Bonaventura makes further analysis of his triple illumination into - - "six degrees or powers of the soul, to wit, sense, imagination, - reason, intellect, intelligence, and _apex mentis seu synteresis - scintilla_. These degrees are planted within us by nature, deformed - through fault, reformed through grace, purged through righteousness, - exercised through knowledge, perfected through wisdom.... Whoever - wishes to ascend to God should shun the sins which deform nature, and - stretch forth his natural powers, in prayer, toward reforming grace, - in mode of life, toward purifying righteousness, in meditation, toward - illuminating knowledge, in contemplation toward the wisdom which makes - perfect. For as no one reaches wisdom except through grace, - righteousness, and knowledge, so no one reaches contemplation, except - through meditation, a holy life, and devout prayer." - -Chapter one closes with little that is novel; for we seem to be retracing -the thoughts of Hugo of St. Victor. The second chapter is on the -"Contemplation of God in His Footprints in the Sensible World." This is -the next grade of speculation, because we shall now contemplate God not -only through His footprints, but in them also, so far as He is in them -through essence, power, or presence. The sensible world, the macrocosmus, -enters the microcosmus, which is the _anima_, through the gates of the -five senses. The author sketches the processes of sense-perception, -through which outer facts are apprehended according to their species, and -delighted in if pleasing, and then adjudged according to the _ratio_ of -their delightfulness, to wit, their beauty, sweetness, salubrity, and -proportion. Such are the footprints in which we may contemplate our God. -All things knowable possess the quality of generating their species in our -minds, through the medium of our perceptions; and thus we are led to -contemplate the eternal generation of the Word--image and Son--from the -Father. Likewise sweetness and beauty point on to their fontal source. And -from speculation on the local, the temporal, and mutable, our reason -carries us to the thought of the immutable, the uncircumscribed and -eternal. Then from the beauty and delightfulness of things, we pass to -the thought of number and proportion, and judge of their irrefragable -laws, wherein are God's wisdom and power. - - "The creatures of this sensible world signify the invisible things of - God; in part because God is the source and exemplar and end of every - creature; in part through their proper likeness; in part from their - prophetic prefiguring; in part from angelic operations; and in part - through superadded ordainment. For every creature by nature is an - effigy of the eternal wisdom; especially whatever creature in - Scripture is taken by the spirit of prophecy as a type of the - spiritual; but more especially those creatures in the likeness of - which God willed to appear by an angelic minister; and most especially - that creature which he chose to mark as a sacrament." - -From these first grades of speculation, which contemplate the footprints -of God in the world, we are led to contemplate the divine image in the -natural powers of our minds. We find the image of the most blessed Trinity -in our memory, our rational intelligence, and our will; the joint action -of which leads on to the desire of the _summum bonum_. Next we contemplate -the divine image in our minds remade by the gifts of grace upon which we -must enter by the door of the faith, hope, and love of the Mediator of God -and men, Jesus Christ. As philosophy helped us to see the image of God in -the natural qualities of our mind, so Scripture now is needed to bring us -to these three theological virtues (faith, hope, and love), which enable -the mind of fallen man to be repaired and made anew through grace. - -From this fourth grade, in which God is still contemplated in his image, -we rise to consider God as pure being, wherein there is neither privation, -nor bound, nor particularity; and next in his goodness, the highest -communicability (_summam communicabilitatem_) of which may be -contemplated, but not comprehended, in the mystery of the most blessed -Trinity. "In whom [the persons of the Trinity] it is necessary because of -the _summa bonitas_ that there should be the _summa communicabilitas_, and -because of the latter, the _summa consubstantialitas_, and because of this -the _summa configurabilitas_, and from these the _summa coaequalitas_, and -through this the _summa coaeternitas_, and from all the preceding the -_summa cointimitas_, by which each is in the other, and one works with the -other through every conceivable indivisibility (_indivisionem_) of the -substance, virtue, and operation of the same most blessed Trinity...." -"And when thou contemplatest this," adds Bonaventura, "do not think to -comprehend the incomprehensible." - -From age to age the religious soul finds traces of its God in nature and -in its inmost self. Its ways of finding change, varying with the -prevailing currents of knowledge; yet still it ever finds these -_vestigia_, which represent the widest deductions of its reasoning, the -ultimate resultants of its thought, and its own brooding peace. Therefore -may we not follow sympathetically the _Itinerarium_ of Bonaventura's mind -as it traces the footprints of its God? Thus far the way has advanced by -reason, uplifted by grace, and yet still reason. This reason has -comprehended what it might comprehend of the traces and evidences of God -in the visible creation and the soul of man; it has sought to apprehend -the being of God, but has humbly recognized its inability to penetrate the -marvels of his goodness in the mystery of the most blessed Trinity. There -it stops at the sixth grade of contemplation; yet not baffled, or rendered -vain, for it has performed its function and brought the soul on to where -she may fling forth from reason's steeps, and find herself again, buoyant -and blissful, in a medium of super-rational contemplation. This makes the -last chapter of the mind's _Itinerarium_; it is the _apex mentis_, the -summit of all contemplations in which the mind has rest. Henceforth - - "Christ is the way and door, the ladder and the vehicle, as the - propitiation placed on the Ark of God, and the sacrament hidden from - the world. He who looks on this propitiation, with his look full fixed - on him who hangs upon the cross, through faith, hope, and charity, and - all devotion, he makes his Passover, and through the rod of the cross - shall pass through the Red Sea, out of Egypt entering the desert, and - there taste the hidden manna, and rest with Christ in the tomb, dead - to all without; and shall realize, though as one still on the way, the - word of Christ to the believing thief: 'To-day thou shalt be with me - in Paradise.' Which was also revealed to the blessed Francis when in - ecstasy of contemplation on the high mountain, the Seraph with six - wings, nailed on a cross, appeared to him. There, as we have heard - from his companion, he passed into God through ecstasy of - contemplation, and was set as an exemplar of perfect contemplation, - whereby God should invite all truly spiritual men to this transit and - ecstasy, by example rather than by word. In this passing over, if it - be perfect, all the ways of reason are relinquished, and the _apex - affectus_ is transferred and transformed into God. This is the mystic - secret known by no one who does not receive it, and received by none - who does not desire it, and desired only by him whose heart's core is - aflame from the fire of the Holy Spirit, whom Christ sent on earth.... - Since then nature avails nothing here, and diligence but little, we - should give ourselves less to investigation and more to unction; - little should be given to speech, and most to inner gladness; little - to the written word, and all to God's gift the Holy Spirit; little or - nothing is to be ascribed to the creature, and all to the creative - essence, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." - -Here Bonaventura loses himself in an untranslatable extract from -Eriugena's version of the _Areopagite_, and then proceeds: - - "If thou askest how may these things be, interrogate grace and not - doctrine, desire and not knowledge, the groaning of prayer rather than - study, the Spouse rather than the teacher, God and not man, mist - rather than clarity, not light but fire all aflame and bearing on to - God by devotion and glowing affection. Which fire is God, and the man - Christ kindles it in the fervour of his passion, as only he perceives - who says: 'My soul chooseth strangling and my bones, death.' He who - loves this death shall see God. Then let us die and pass into - darkness, and silence our solicitudes, our desires, and phantasies; - let us pass over with Christ crucified from this world to the Father; - that the Father shown us, we may say with Philip: 'it sufficeth us.' - Let us hear with Paul: 'My grace is sufficient for thee.' Let us exult - with David, saying: 'Defecit caro mea et cor meum, Deus cordis mei et - pars mea Deus in aeternum'."[559] - -It is best to leave the saint and doctor here, and not follow in other -treatises the current of his yearning thought till it divides in -streamlets which press on their tortuous ways through allegory and the -adumbration of what the mind disclaims the power to express directly. -Those more elaborate treatises of his, which are called mystic, are -difficult for us to read. As with Hugo of St. Victor, from whom he drew so -largely, Bonaventura's expression of his religious yearnings may -interest and move us; but one needs perhaps the cloister's quiet to follow -on through the allegorical elaboration of this pietism. Bonaventura's -_Soliloquium_ might weary us after the _Itinerarium_, and we should read -his _De septem itineribus aeternitatis_ with no more pleasure than Hugo's -_Mystic Ark of Noah_. It is enough to witness the spiritual attitude of -these men without tracking them through the "selva oscura" to their lairs -of meditation. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX - -ALBERTUS MAGNUS - - -Albert the Great was prodigious in the mass of his accomplishment. Therein -lay his importance for the age he lived in; therein lies his interest for -us. For him, substantial philosophy, as distinguished from the -instrumental role of logic, had three parts, set by nature, rather than -devised by man; they are physics, mathematics, and metaphysics. "It is our -intention," says Albert at the beginning of his exposition of Aristotle's -_Physics_, "to make all the said parts intelligible to the Latins." _And -he did._ Perhaps the world has had no greater purveyor of a knowledge not -his own. He is comparable with Boethius, who gave the Latin world the -Aristotelian _Organon_, a gift but half availed of for many centuries. -Albert gave his Latin world the rest of Aristotle, the _philosophia -realis_. His world was as ready to receive this great donation, as the -time of Boethius was unready to profit by any intellectual gift demanding -mental energies for its assimilation. Boethius stood alone in his -undertaking; if his hand failed there was none to take up his task. Fate -stayed his hand; and the purpose that was his, to render the whole of -Plato and Aristotle intelligible to the Latin world, perished with him, -the Latin world being by no means eager for the whole of Aristotle and -Plato, and unfit to receive it had it been proffered. But Albert's time -was eager; it was importunate for the very enlargement of knowledge which -Albert, more than any other man, was bringing it. An age obtains what it -demands. Albert had fellow-labourers, some preceding, some assisting, and -others following him, to perfect the knowledge in which he worked, and -build it into the scholastic Christian scheme. But in this labour of -purveyorship he overtopped the rest, the giant of them all. - -He was born Count of Bollstadt, in Suabia, probably in the year 1193. -Whether his youth was passed in the profession of arms, or in study, is -not quite clear. But while still young he began his years of studious -travel, and at Padua in 1223 he joined the Dominican Order. He became a -miracle of learning, reputed also as one who could explain the phenomena -of nature. From 1228 to 1245 he taught in German cities, chiefly at -Cologne. Then the scene changed to Paris, where he lectured and won fame -from 1245 to 1248. With this period begins the publication of his -philosophical encyclopaedia. Perhaps it was first completed in 1256. But -Albert kept supplementing and revising it until his death. In 1248 he was -remanded to Cologne to establish a school there. His life continued -devoted to study and teaching, yet with interruptions. For he filled the -office of Provincial of his Order for Germany from 1254 to 1257, and was -compelled to be Bishop of Regensburg from 1260 to 1262. Then he insisted -on resigning, and retired to a cloister at Cologne. Naturally he was -engaged in a number of learned controversies, and was burdened with -numerous ecclesiastical affairs. In 1277 for the last time he set his face -toward Paris, to defend the doctrines and memory of his great pupil, who -had died three years before. His own illustrious life closed at Cologne on -the fifteenth of November, 1280. Albert was a man of piety, conforming -strictly to the rules of his Order. It is said that he refused to own even -the manuscripts which he indited; and as Dominican Provincial of Germany -he walked barefoot on his journeys through the vast territory set under -his supervision. Tradition has him exceeding small of stature. - -Albert's labours finally put within reach of his contemporaries the sum of -philosophy and science contained in the works of Aristotle, and his -ancient, as well as Arabian, commentators. The undertaking was grandly -conceived; it was carried out with tireless energy and massive learning. -Let us observe the principles which informed the mind of this mighty -Teuton scholar. He transcribed approvingly the opinion expressed by -Aristotle at the opening of the _Metaphysics_, that the love of knowledge -is natural to man; and he recognized the pleasure arising from knowledge -of the sensible world, apart from considerations of utility.[560] He took -this thought from Aristotle; but the proof that he made it his own with -power lay in those fifty years of intellectual toil which produced the -greatest of all mediaeval storehouses of knowledge. - -In his reliance on his sources, Albert is mediaeval; his tendency is to -accept the opinion which he is reproducing, especially when it is the -opinion of Aristotle. Yet he protested against regarding even him as -infallible. "He who believes that Aristotle was God, ought to believe that -he never erred. If one regards him as a man, then surely he may err as -well as we."[561] Albert was no Averroist to adhere to all the views of -the Philosopher; he pointedly differed from him where orthodoxy demanded -it, maintaining, for instance, the creation of the world in time, contrary -to the opinion of the Peripatetics. Albert, and with him Aquinas, had not -accepted merely the task of expounding Aristotle, but also that of -correcting him where Truth (with a large Christian capital) required it. -Albert held that Aristotle might err, and that he did not know everything. -The development of science was not closed by his death: "Dicendum quod -scientiae demonstrativae non omnes factae sunt, sed plures restant adhuc -inveniendae."[562] This is not Roger Bacon speaking, but Albertus; and -still more might one think to hear the voice of the recalcitrant -Franciscan in the words: "Oportet experimentum non in uno modo, sed -secundum omnes circumstantias probare."[563] Yet these words too are -Albert's, and he is speaking of the observation of nature's phenomena; -regarding which one shall not simply transcribe the ancient statement; but -observe with his own eyes and mind. - -This was in the spirit of Aristotle; Albert recognizes and approves. But -did he make the experimental principle his own with power, as he did the -thought that the desire to know is inborn? This is a fundamental question -as to Albert. No one denies his learning, his enormous book-diligence. But -was he also an observer of natural phenomena? One who sought to test from -his own observation the statements of the books he read? It is best here -to avoid either a categorical affirmation or denial. The standard by which -one shapes one's answer is important. Are we to compare Albert with a St. -Bernard, whose meditations shut his eyes to mountains, lakes, and woods? -Or are we to apply the standards of a natural science which looks always -to the tested results of observation? There is sufficient evidence in -Albert's writings to show that he kept his eyes open, and took notice of -interesting phenomena, seen, for instance, on his journeys. But, on the -other hand, it is absurd to imagine that he dreamed of testing the written -matter which he paraphrased, or of materially adding to it, by systematic -observation of nature. Accounts of his observations do not always raise -our opinion of his science. He transcribes the description of certain -worms, and says that they may come from horse-hairs, for he has seen -horse-hairs, in still water, turning into worms.[564] The trouble was that -Albert had no general understanding of the processes of nature. -Consequently, in his _De animalibus_ for instance, he gives the fabulous -as readily as the more reasonable. Nevertheless let no one think that -natural knowledge did not really interest and delight him. His study of -plants has led the chief historian of botany to assert that Albert was the -first real botanist, after the ancient Theophrastus, inasmuch as he -studied for the sake of learning the nature of plants, irrespective of -their medical or agricultural uses.[565] - -The writings of Albertus Magnus represent, perhaps more fully than those -of any other man, the round of knowledge and intellectual interest -attracting the attention of western Europe in the thirteenth century. At -first glance they seem to separate into those which in form and substance -are paraphrases of Aristotelian treatises, or borrowed expositions of -Aristotelian topics; and those which are more independent compositions. -Yet the latter, like the _Summa de creaturis_, for example, will be found -to consist largely of borrowed material; the matter is rearranged, and -presented in some new connection, or with a purpose other than that of its -source. - -In his Aristotelian paraphrases, which were thickly sown with digressive -expositions, Albert's method, as he states at the beginning of the -_Physica_, is "to follow the order and opinions of Aristotle, and to give -in addition whatever is needed in the way of explanation and support; yet -without reproducing Aristotle's text (_tamen quod textus eius nulla fiat -mentio_). And we shall also compose _digressiones_ to expound whatever is -obscure." The titles of the chapters will indicate whether their substance -is from Aristotle. Thus instead of giving the Aristotelian text, with an -attached commentary, Albert combines paraphrase and supplementary -exposition. Evidently the former method would have presented Aristotle's -meaning more surely, and would have thus subserved a closer scholarship. -But for this the Aristotelian commentaries of Aquinas must be awaited. - -The compass of Albert's achievement as a purveyor of ancient knowledge may -be seen from a cursory survey of his writings; which will likewise afford -an idea of the quality of his work, and how much there was of Albert in -it.[566] To begin with, he sets forth with voluminous exposition the -entire Aristotelian _Organon_. The preliminary questions as to the nature -of logic were treated in the _De praedicabilibus_,[567] which expanded the -substance of Porphyry's _Isagoge_. In this treatise Albert expounds his -conclusions as to universals, the universal being that which is in one yet -is fit (_aptum_) to be in many, and is predicable of many. "Et hoc modo -prout ratio est praedicabilitatis, ad logicam pertinet de universali -tractare; quamvis secundum quod est natura quaedam et differentia entis, -tractare de ipso pertineat ad metaphysicam." That is to say, It pertains -to logic to treat of the universal in respect to its predicability; but in -so far as the question relates to the nature and differences of essential -being, it pertains to metaphysics. This sentence is an example of Albert's -awkward Latin; but it shows how firmly he distinguishes between the -logical and the metaphysical material. His treatment of logic is -exhaustive, rather than acutely discriminating. He works constantly with -the material of others, and the result is more inclusive than -organic.[568] In his ponderous treatment of logical themes, no possible -consideration is omitted. - -The _De praedicabilibus_ is followed by the _De praedicamentis_, Albert's -treatise on the _Categories_. Next comes his _Liber de sex principiis_, -which is a paraphrasing exposition of the work of Gilbert de la Porree. -Then comes his _Perihermenias_, which keeps the Greek title of the _De -interpretatione_. These writings are succeeded by elaborate expositions of -the more advanced logical treatises of Aristotle, all of them, of course, -_Analytics_ (_Prior_ and _Posterior_), _Topics_, and _Elenchi_. The total -production is detailed, exhaustive, awful; it is _ingens_ truly, only not -quite _informis_; and Teutonically painstaking and conscientious. - -Thus logic makes Tome I. of the twenty-one tomes of Albert's _Opera_. Tome -II. contains his expository paraphrases of Aristotle's _Physics_ and -lesser treatises upon physical topics, celestial and terrestrial. From the -opening chapter we have already taken the programme of his large intention -to make known all Aristotle to the Latins. In this chapter likewise he -proceeds to lay out the divisions of _philosophia realis_ into -Aristotelian conceptions of _metaphysica_, _mathematica_, and _physica_. -With chapter two he falls into the first of his interminable digressions, -taking up what were called "the objections of Heracleitus" to any science -of physics. Another digressive chapter considers the proper subject of -physical science, to wit, _corpus mobile_, and another considers its -divisions. After a while he takes up the opinions of the ancients upon the -beginnings (_principia_) of things, and then reasons out the true opinion -in the matter. Liber II. of his _Physica_ is devoted to _Natura_, -considered in many ways, but chiefly as the _principium intrinsecum omnium -eorum quae naturalia sunt_. It is the principle of motion in the mobile -substance. Next he passes to a discussion of causes; and in the succeeding -books he considers movement, place, time, and eternity. Albert's -paraphrase is replete with logical forms of thinking; it seems like formal -logic applied in physical science. The world about us still furnishes, or -_is_, data for our thoughts; and we try to conceive it consistently, so as -to satisfy our thinking; so did Aristotle and Albertus. But they avowedly -worked out their conceptions of the external world according to the laws -determining the consistency of their own mental processes; and deemed this -a proper way of approach to natural science. Yet the work of Aristotle -represents a real consideration of the universe, and a tremendous mass of -natural knowledge. The achievement of Albertus in rendering it available -to the scholar-world of the thirteenth century was an extension of -knowledge which seems the more prodigious as we note its enormous range. -This continues to impress us as we turn over Albert's next treatises, -paraphrasing those of Aristotle, as their names indicate: _De coelo et -mundo_; _De generatione et corruptione_; _Libri IV. meteorum_; _De -mineralibus_, which ends Tome II. and the physical treatises proper. - -Tome III. introduces us to another region, opening with Albert's -exhaustive paraphrase, _De anima_. It is placed here because the _scientia -de anima_ is a part of _naturalis scientia_, and comes after minerals and -other topics of physics, but precedes the science of animate -bodies--_corporum animatorum_; for the last cannot be known except through -knowing their _animae_. In this, as well as in other works of Albert, -psychological material is gathered from many sources. One may hardly speak -of the psychology of Albertus Magnus, since his matter has no organic -unity. It is largely Aristotelian, with the thoughts of Arab commentators -taken into it, as in Albert's Aristotelian paraphrases generally. But it -is also Augustinian, and Platonic and Neo-Platonic. Albert is capable of -defending opposite views in the same treatise; and in spite of best -intentions, he does not succeed in harmonizing what he draws from -Aristotle, with what he takes from Augustine. Hence his works nowhere -present a system of psychology which might be called Albert's, either -through creation or consistent selection. But at least he has gathered, -and bestowed somewhere, all the accessible material.[569] - -Tome III. of Albert's _Opera_ contains also his Aristotelian paraphrase, -_Metaphysicorum libri XIII._ In this _vera sapientia philosophiae_, he -follows Aristotle closely, save where orthodoxy compels deviation.[570] -Tome IV. contains his paraphrasing expositions, _Ethica_ and _In octo -libros politicorum Aristotelis commentarii_. Tome V. contains paraphrases -of Aristotle's minor natural treatises,--_parva naturalia_; to wit, the -_Liber de sensu et sensato_, treating problems of sense-perception; next -the _Liber de memoria et reminiscentia_, in which the two are thus -distinguished: "Memoria motus continuus est in rem, et uniformis. -Reminiscibilitas autem est motus quasi interceptus et abscissus per -oblivionem." Treatises follow: _De somno et vigilia_; _De motibus -animalium_; _De aetate, sive de juventute et senectute_; _De spiritu et -respiratione_; _De morte et vita_; _De nutrimento et nutribile_; _De -natura et origine animae_; _De unitate intellectus contra Averroem_ (a -controversial tract); _De intellectu et intelligibile_ (an important -psychological writing); _De natura locorum_; _De causis proprietatum -elementorum_; _De passionibus aeris, sive de vaporum impressionibus_; and -next and last, saving some minor tracts, Albert's chief botanical work, -_De vegetabilibus_. - -Aristotle's _Botany_ was lost, and Albert's work was based on the _De -plantis_ of Nicolas of Damascus, a short compend vulgarly ascribed to -Aristotle, but really made in the first century, and passing through -numerous translations from one language to another, before Albert accepted -it as the composition of the Stagirite. It consisted of two short books; -Albert's work contained seven long ones, and made the most important work -on botany since the times of Aristotle and his pupil Theophrastus. In -opening, Albert says that generalities applicable to all animate things -have been already presented, and now it is time to consider more -especially and in turn, _vegetabilia_, _sensibilia_, _rationabilia_. In -the first eight chapters of his first book, Albert follows his supposed -Aristotelian source, and then remarks that the translation of the -Philosopher's treatise is so ignorantly made that he will himself take up -in order the six problems thus far incompetently discussed. So he -considers whether plants have souls; whether plant-souls feel and desire; -whether plants sleep; as to sex in plants; whether without sex they can -propagate their species; and as to their hidden life. - -In the second book, having again bewailed the insufficiency of his source, -Albert takes up the classification of plants, and proceeds with a -description of their various parts, then passes on to the shape of leaves, -the generation and nature of flowers, their colour, odour, and shape. -Liber III., still as an independent _digressio_, discusses seeds and -fruit. In Liber IV. Albert returns to his unhappy source, and his matter -declines in interest; but again, in Liber V., he frees himself in a -_digressio_ on the properties and effects of plants, gathered from many -sources, some of which are foolish enough. His sixth book is a description -of trees and other plants in alphabetical order. The last and seventh is -devoted to agriculture.[571] - -In the _De vegetabilibus_, Albert, as an expounder of natural knowledge, -is at his best. A less independent and intelligent production is his -enormous treatise _De animalibus libri XXVI._, which fills the whole of -Tome IV. of Albert's _Opera_. A certain Thomas of Cantimpre, an admiring -pupil of Albert, may have anticipated the above-named work of his teacher -by his own compilation, _De naturis rerum_, which appears to have been -composed shortly before the middle of the thirteenth century. Its -descriptions of animals, although borrowed and uncritical, were at least -intended to describe them actually, and were not merely fashioned for the -moral's sake, after the manner of the _Physiologus_,[572] and many a -compilation of the early Middle Ages. Yet the work contains moralities -enough, and plenty of the fabulous. But Thomas diligently gathered -information as he might, and from Aristotle more than any other. Thus, in -his lesser way, he, as well as Albert, represents the tendency of the -period to interest itself in the realities, as well as in the symbolisms, -of the natural world. - -Albert's work is not such an inorganic compilation as Thomas's. He has -paraphrased the ten books of Aristotle's natural histories, his four books -on the parts of animals, and his five books on their generation. To these -nineteen, he has added seven books on the nature of animal bodies and on -their grades of perfection; and then on quadrupeds, birds, aquatic -animals, snakes, and small bloodless creatures. Besides Aristotle, he -draws on Avicenna, Galen, Ambrose (!), and others, including Thomas of -Cantimpre. Thus, his work is made up mainly of the ancient written -material. Moreover, Albert is kept from a natural view of his subject -through the need he feels to measure animals by the standards of human -capacity, and learn to know them through knowing man. His _digressiones_ -usually discuss abstract problems, as, for instance, whether beyond the -four elements, any fifth principle enters the composition of animal -bodies. As for his anatomy, he describes the muscles, and calls the veins -nerves, having no real knowledge of the latter. He corrects few ancient -errors, either anatomical or physiological; and his own observations, -occasionally referred to in his work, scarcely win our respect. Nor does -he exclude fabulous stories, or the current superstitions as to the -medicinal or magical effect of parts of certain animals. On the whole, -Albert's merit in the province of Zoology lies in his introduction of the -Aristotelian data and conceptions to the mediaeval Latin West.[573] - -After Tome IV. of Albert's _Opera_, follow many portly tomes, the contents -of which need not detain us. There are enormous commentaries on the Psalms -and Prophets, and the Gospels (Tomes VII.-XI.); then a tome of sermons, -then a tome of commentaries on the Hierarchies of Pseudo-Dionysius; and -three tomes of commentaries on the Lombard's _Sentences_,--commentaries, -that is to say, upon works which stood close to Scripture in authority. -With these we reach the end of Albert's labours in paraphrase and -commentary, and pass to his more constructive work. Of course, the first -and chief is his _Summa theologiae_, contained in Tomes XVII. and XVIII. -of the _Opera_. With Albert, theology is a science, a branch of systematic -knowledge, the highest indeed, and yet one among others. This science, -says he in the Prologue to his _Summa_, - - "... is of all sciences the most entitled to credence--_certissimae - credulitatis et fidei_. Other sciences, concerning creatures, possess - _rationes immobiles_, yet those _rationes_ are _mobiles_ because they - are in created things. But this science founded in _rationibus - aeternis_ is immutable both _secundum esse_ and _secundum rationem_. - And since it is not constituted of the sensible and imaginable, which - are not quite cleared of the hangings of matter, plainly it, alone or - supremely, is science: for the divine intellect is altogether - intellectual, being the light and cause of everything intelligible; - and from it to us is the divine science." - -Albert's dialectic is turgid enough, and lacks the lucidity of his pupil. -Yet his reasoning may be weighty and even convincing. Intellect, Reason -and its realm of that which is known through Reason, is higher than sense -perceptions and imaginations springing from them: it affords the surest -knowledge; the science that treats of pure reason, which is in God, is the -surest and noblest of sciences. Albert clearly defines the province and -nature of theology. - - "It is _scientia secundum pietatem_; it is not concerned with the - knowable (_scibile_) simply as such, nor with the knowable - universally; but only as it inclines us to Piety. Piety, as Augustine - says, is the worship of God, perfected by faith, hope, charity, - prayer, and sacrifices. Thus theology is the science of what pertains - to salvation; for piety conduces to salvation."[574] - -The _Summa theologiae_ treats of the encyclopaedic matter of the sacred -science, in the order and arrangement with which we are familiar.[575] It -is followed (Tome XIX.) by Albert's _Summa de creaturis_, a presentation -of God's creation, omitting the special topics set forth in the _De -vegetabilibus_ and _De animalibus_. It treats of creation, of matter, of -time and eternity, of the heavens and celestial bodies, of angels, their -qualities and functions, and the hierarchies of them; of the state of the -wicked angels, of the works of the six days, briefly; and then of man, -soul and body, very fully; of man's habitation and the order and -perfection of the universe. Thus the _Summa de creaturis_ treats of the -world and man as God's creation; but it is not directly concerned with -man's salvation, which is the distinguishing purpose of a _Summa -theologiae_, however encyclopaedic such a work may be. - -Two tomes remain of Albert's opera, containing much that is very different -from anything already considered. Tome XX. is devoted to the Virgin Mary, -and is chiefly made up of two prodigious tracts: _De laudibus beatae -Mariae Virginis libri XII._, and the _Mariale, sive quaestiones super -evangelium, Missus est angelus Gabriel_. These works--it is disputed -whether Albert was their author--are a glorification, indeed a -deification, of Mary. They are prodigious; they are astounding. The -worship of Mary is gathered up in them, of Mary the chief and best beloved -religious creation of the Middle Ages; only not a creation, strictly -speaking, for the Divine Virgin, equipped with attribute and quality, -sprang from the fecund matrix of the early Church. The works before us -represent a simpler piety than Albert's _Summa theologiae_. They contain -satisfying, consoling statements, not woven of dialectic. And the end is -all that the Mary-loving soul could wish. "Christ protects the servants of -His genetrix:--and so does Mary, as may be read in her miracles, protect -us from our bodily enemies, and from the seducers of souls."[576] The -praises of Mary will seem marvellous indeed to anyone turning over the -_tituli_ of books and chapters. There is here a whole mythology, and a -universal symbolism. Symbolically, Mary is everything imaginable; she has -every virtue and a mass of power and privileges. She is the adorable and -chief efficient Goddess mediating between the Trinity and the creature -man. - -Tome XXI., last tome of all, has a variety of writings, some of which may -not be Albert's. Among them is a work of sweet and simple piety, a work -of turning to God as a little child; and one would be loath to take it -away from this man of learning. _De adhaerendo Deo_ is its title, which -tells the story. Albert wished at last to write something presenting man's -ultimate perfection, so far as that might be realized in this life. So he -writes this little tract of chamber-piety, as to how one should cling to -Christ alone. Yet he cannot disencumber himself of his lifelong methods of -composition. He might conceive and desire; but it was not for him to write -a tract to move the heart. The best he can say is that the end of all our -study and discipline is _intendere et quiescere in Domino Deo intra te per -purissimum intellectum, et devotissimum affectum sine phantasmatibus et -implicationibus_. The great scholar would come home at last, like a little -child, if he only could. - - - - -CHAPTER XL - -THOMAS AQUINAS - - I. THOMAS'S CONCEPTION OF HUMAN BEATITUDE. - - II. MAN'S CAPACITY TO KNOW GOD. - - III. HOW GOD KNOWS. - - IV. HOW THE ANGELS KNOW. - - V. HOW MEN KNOW. - - VI. KNOWLEDGE THROUGH FAITH PERFECTED IN LOVE. - - -I - -With Albert it seemed most illuminating to outline the masses of his work -of Aristotelian purveyorship and inchoate reconstruction of the Christian -encyclopaedia in conformity with the new philosophy. Such a treatment will -not avail for Thomas. His achievement, even measured by its bulk, was as -great as Albert's. But its size and encyclopaedic inclusiveness do not -represent its integral excellences. The intellectual qualities of Thomas, -evinced in his work, are of a higher order than those included in -intelligent diligence, however exceptional. They must be disengaged from -out of the vast product of their energies, in order that they may be -brought together, and made to appear in the organic correlation which they -held in the mind of the most potent genius of scholasticism. - -We are pleased to find some clue to a man's genius in the race and place -from which he draws his origin. So for whatever may be its explanatory -value as to Thomas, one may note that he came of Teutonic stocks, which -for some generations had been domiciled in the form-giving Italian land. -The mingled blood of princely Suabian and Norman lines flowed in him; the -nobility of his father's house, the Counts of Aquinum, was equalled by -his mother's lineage. Probably in 1225 he was born, in Southern Italy, not -far from Monte Cassino. Thither, as a child, he was sent to school to the -monks, and stayed with them through childhood's formative period. His -education did not create the mind which it may have had part in directing -to sacred study. Near his tenth year, the extraordinary boy was returned -to Naples, there to study the humanities and philosophy under selected -masters. When eighteen, he launched himself upon the intellectual currents -of the age by joining the Dominican Order. Stories have come down of the -violent, but fruitless opposition of his family. In two years, with true -instinct, Thomas had made his way from Naples to the feet of Albert in -Cologne. Thenceforth the two were to be together, as their tasks -permitted, and the loyal relationship between master and scholar was -undisturbed by the latter's transcendent genius. Plato had the greatest -pupil, and Aristotle the greatest master, known to fame. That pupil's work -was a redirecting of philosophy. The work of pupil Thomas perfected -finally the matter upon which his master laboured; and the master's aged -eyes beheld the finished structure that was partly his, when the pupil's -eyes had closed. Thomas, dying, left Albert to defend the system that was -to be called "Thomist," after him who constructed and finished it to its -very turret points, rather than "Albertist," after him who prepared the -materials. - -To return to the time when both still laboured. Thomas in 1245 accompanied -his master to Paris, and three years later went back with him to Cologne. -Thereafter their duties often separated them. We know that in 1252 Thomas -was lecturing at Paris, and that he there received with Bonaventura the -title of _magister_ in 1257. After this he is found south of the Alps; it -was in the year 1263 that Urban IV. at Rome encouraged him to undertake a -critical commentary upon Aristotle, based on a closer rendering into Latin -of the Greek. In 1268, at the height of his academic fame, he is once more -at Paris; which he leaves for the last time in 1272, having been directed -to establish a _studium generale_ at Naples. Two years later he died, on -his way to advise the labours of the Council assembled at Lyons.[577] - -Thomas wrote commentaries upon the Aristotelian _De interpretatione_ and -_Posterior Analytics_; the _Physics_, the _De coelo et mundo_, the -_Meteorum_, the _Metaphysics_, _Ethics_, _Politics_, and certain other -Aristotelian treatises. His work shows such a close understanding of -Aristotle as the world had not known since the days of the ancient -Peripatetics. Of course, he lectured on the _Sentences_, and the result -remains in his Commentaries on them. He lectured, and the resulting -Commentaries exist in many tomes, on the greater part of both the Old and -New Testaments. It would little help our purpose to catalogue in detail -his more constructive and original works, wherein he perfected a system of -philosophy and sacred knowledge. Chief among them were the _Summa contra -Gentiles_ and the _Summa theologiae_, the latter the most influential work -of all western mediaeval scholasticism. Many of his more important shorter -treatises are included in the _Quaestiones disputatae_, and the -_Quodlibetalia_. They treat of many matters finally put together in the -_Summa theologiae_. _De malo in communi, de peccatis, etc._; _De anima_; -_De virtutibus in communi, etc._; _De veritate_; _De ideis_; _De -cognitione angelorum_; _De bono_; _De voluntate_; _De libero arbitrio_; -_De passionibus animae_; _De gratia_;--such are titles drawn from the -_Quaestiones_. The _Quodlibetalia_ were academic disputations held in the -theological faculty, upon any imaginable thesis having theological -bearing. Some of them still appear philosophical, while many seem bizarre -to us; for example: Whether an angel can move from one extreme to the -other without passing through the middle. One may remember that such -questions had been put, and put again, from the time of the Church -Fathers. This question answered by Thomas whether an angel may pass from -one extreme to the other without traversing the middle is pertinent to the -conception of angels as completely immaterial beings,--a conception upon -the elaboration of which theologians expended much ingenious thought. - -In the earlier Middle Ages, when men were busy putting together the -ancient matter, the personalities of the writers may not clearly appear. -It is different in the twelfth century, and very different in the -thirteenth, when the figures of at least its greater men are thrown out -plainly by their written works. Bonaventura is seen lucidly reasoning, but -with his ardently envisioning piety ever reaching out beyond; the -personality of Albert most Teutonically wrestles itself into salience -through the many-tomed results of his very visible efforts; when we come -to Roger Bacon, we shall find wormwood, and many higher qualities of mind, -flowing in his sentences. And the consummate fashioning faculty, the -devout and intellectual temperament of Thomas, are writ large in his -treatises. His work has unity; it is a system; it corresponds to the -scholastically creative personality, from the efficient concord of whose -faculties it proceeded. The unity of Thomas's personality lay in his -conception of man's _summum bonum_, which sprang from his Christian faith, -but was constructed by reason from foundation to pinnacle; and it is -evinced in the compulsion of an intellectual temperament that never let -the pious reasoner's energies or appetitions stray loitering or aberrant -from that goal. Likewise the unity of his system consists in its purpose, -which is to present that same _summum bonum_, credited by faith, -empowered, if not empassioned, by piety, and constructed by reason. To -fulfil this purpose in its utmost compass, reason works with the material -of all pertinent knowledge; fashioning the same to complete logical -consistency of expression. - -Therefore, it is from his conception of this _summum bonum_ as from a -centre of illumination, that we may trace the characteristic qualities -alike of Thomas and his work. His faith, his piety, and his intellectual -nature are revealed in his thought of supreme felicity. Man's chief good -being the ground of the system, the thought and study which Thomas puts -upon the created universe and upon God, regarded both as Creator and in -the relationships of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, conduce to make large -and sure and ample this same chief good of man. To it likewise conduce the -Incarnation, and the Sacraments springing therefrom; in accord with it, -Thomas accepts or constructs his metaphysics, his psychology, his entire -thought of human capacity and destiny, and sets forth how nearly man's -reason may bring him to this goal, and where there is need of divine -grace. In this goal, moreover, shall be found the sanction of human -knowledge, and the justification of the right enjoyment of human -faculties; it determines what elements of mortal life may be gathered up -and carried on, to form part of the soul's eternal beatitude. - -Thomas's intellectual powers work together in order to set his thought of -man's _summum bonum_ on its surest foundations, and make clear its scope: -his faculty of arrangement, and serious and lucid presentation; his -careful reasoning, which never trips, never overlooks, and never either -hurries or is taken unprepared; his marvellous unforgetfulness of -everything which might remotely bear on the subject; his intellectual -poise, and his just weighing of every matter that should be taken into the -scales of his determination. Observing these, we may realize how he seemed -to his time a new intellectual manifestation of God's illuminating grace. -There was in him something unknown before; his argument, his exposition, -was new in power, in interest, in lucidity. On the quality of newness the -wretched old biographer rings his reiteration: - - "For in his lectures he put out _new_ topics (_articulos_), inventing - a _new_ and clear way of drawing conclusions and bringing _new_ - reasons into them, so that no one, who had heard him teach _new_ - doubts and allay them by _new_ arguments, would have doubted that God - had illumined with rays of _new_ light one who became straightway of - such sure judgment, that he did not hesitate to teach and write _new_ - opinions, which God had deigned _newly_ to inspire."[578] - -His biographer's view is justified. Thomas was the greatest of the -schoolmen. His way of teaching, his translucent exposition, came to his -hearers as a new inspiration. Only Bonaventura (likewise Italian-born) may -be compared with him for clearness of exposition--of solution indeed; and -Thomas is more judicial, more supremely intellectual; his way of treatment -was a stronger incitement and satisfaction to at least the minds of his -auditors. Albert, with his mass of but half-conquered material, could not -fail to show, whether he would or not, the doubt-breeding difficulties of -the new philosophy, which was yet to be worked into Christian theology. -Thomas exposed every difficulty and revealed its depths; but then he -solved and adjusted everything with an argumentation from whose careful -inclusiveness no questions strayed unshepherded. Placed with Thomas, -Albert shows as the Titan whose strength assembles the materials, while -Thomas is the god who erects the edifice. The material that Thomas works -with, and many of his thoughts and arguments, are to be found in Albert; -and the pupil knew his indebtedness to the great master, who survived him -to defend his doctrines. But what is not in Albert, is Thomas, Thomas -himself, with his disentangled reasoning, his clarity, his organic -exposition, his final construction of the mediaeval Christian scheme.[579] - -In the third book of his _Summa philosophica contra Gentiles_, and in the -beginning of _Pars prima secundae_ of his _Summa theologiae_, Thomas -expounds man's final end, _ultimus finis_, which is his supreme good or -perfect beatitude. The exposition in the former work, dating from the -earlier years of the author's academic activities, seems the simpler at -first reading; but the other includes more surely Thomas's last reasoning, -placed in the setting of argument and relationship which he gave it in his -greatest work. We shall follow the latter, borrowing, however, from the -former when its phrases seem to present the matter more aptly to our -non-scholastic minds. The general position of the topic is the same in -both _Summae_; and Thomas gives the reason in the Prologus to _Pars prima -secundae_ of the _Summa theologiae_. His way of doing this is significant: - - "Man is declared to be made in the image of God in this sense (as - Damascenus[580] says) that by 'image' is meant _intellectual_, _free - to choose_, and _self-potent to act_. Therefore, after what has been - said of the Exemplar God, and of those things which proceed from the - divine power according to its will, there remains for us to consider - His image, to wit, man, in so far as he is himself the source - (_principium_) of his acts, possessing free will and power over them." - -Thereupon Thomas continues, opening his first Quaestio:[581] - - "First one must consider the final end (_ultimus finis_) of human - life, and then those things through which man may attain this end, or - deviate from it. For one must accept from an end the rationale of - those things which are ordained to that end." - -Assuming the final end of human life to be beatitude, Thomas considers -wherein man as a rational creature may properly have one final end, on -account of which he wills all that he wills. Quaestio ii. shows that man's -beatitude cannot consist in riches, honours, fame, power, pleasures of the -body, or in any created good, not even in the soul. Man gains his -beatitude _through_ the soul; but in itself the soul is not man's final -end. The next Quaestio is devoted to the gist of the matter: what -beatitude is, and what is needed for it. Thomas first shows in what sense -beatitude is something increate (_increatum_). He has already pointed out -that _end_ (_finis_) has a twofold meaning: the thing itself which we -desire to obtain, and the fruition of it. - - "In the first sense, the final end of man is an increate good, to wit - God, who alone with His infinite goodness can perfectly fulfil the - wish (_voluntas_) of man. In the second sense the final end of man is - something created existing in himself; which is nought else than - attainment or fruition (_adeptio vel fruitio_) of the final end. The - final end is called beatitude. If then man's beatitude is viewed as - cause or object, it is something increate; but if it is considered in - its beatific essence (_quantum ad ipsam essentiam beatitudinis_) it is - something created." - -Thomas next shows: - - "... that inasmuch as man's beatitude is something created existing in - himself, it is necessary to regard it as action (_operatio_). For - beatitude is man's ultimate perfection. But everything is perfect in - so far as it is actually (_actu_, _i.e._ in realized actuality): for - potentiality without actuality is imperfect. Therefore beatitude - should consist in man's ultimate actuality. But manifestly action - (_operatio_) is the final actuality of the actor (_operantis_); as the - Philosopher shows, demonstrating that everything exists for its action - (_propter suam operationem_). Hence it follows of necessity that man's - beatitude is action." - -The next point to consider is whether beatitude is the action of man's -senses or his intellect. Drawing distinctions, Thomas points out that - - "the action of sense cannot pertain to beatitude essentially; because - man's beatitude essentially consists in uniting himself to the - increate good; to which he cannot be joined through the action of the - senses. Yet sense-action may pertain to beatitude as an antecedent or - consequence: as an antecedent, for the imperfect beatitude attainable - in this life, where the action of the senses is a prerequisite to the - action of the mind; as a consequence, in that perfect beatitude which - is looked for in heaven; because, after the resurrection, as Augustine - says, from the very beatitude of the soul, there may be a certain - flowing back into the body and its senses, perfecting them in their - actions. But not even then will the action by which the human mind is - joined to God depend on sense." - -Beatitude then is the action of man's intellectual part; and Thomas next -inquires, whether it is an action of the intelligence or will -(_intellectus aut voluntatis_). With this inquiry we touch the pivot of -Thomas's attitude, wherein he departs from Augustine, in apparent reliance -on the word of John: "This is eternal life that they should know thee, the -one true God." Life eternal is man's final end; and therefore man's -beatitude consists in knowledge of God, which is an act of mind. Thomas -argues this at some length. He refers to the distinction between what is -essential to the existence of beatitude, and what is joined to it _per -accidens_, like enjoyment (_delectatio_). - - "I say then, that beatitude in its essence cannot consist in an act of - will. For it has appeared that beatitude is the obtaining - (_consecutio_) of the final end. But obtaining does not consist in any - act of will; for will attaches to the absent when one desires it, as - well as to the present in which one rests delighted. It is evident - that the desire for an end is not an obtaining of it, but a movement - toward it. Enjoyment attaches to will from the presence of the end; - but not conversely does anything become present because the will shall - delight in it. Therefore there must be something besides an act of - will, through which the end may become present to the will. This is - plain respecting the ends of sense (_fines sensibiles_). For if to - obtain money were an act of will, the miser would have obtained it - from the beginning. And so it comes to pass with respect to an end - conceived by the mind; we obtain it when it becomes present to us - through an act of the intellect; and then the delighted will rests in - the end obtained. Thus, therefore, the essence of beatitude consists - in an act of mind. But the delight which follows beatitude pertains to - will, even in the sense in which Augustine says: 'beatitudo est - gaudium de veritate,' because indeed joy is the consummation of - beatitude." - -The supremely intellectual attitude of the Angelic Doctor, shows at once, -and as it were universally, in his conviction of the primacy of the true -over the good, and of knowledge over will. Sometimes he argues these -points directly; and again, his temperamental attitude appears in the -course of argument upon other points. For example, Quaestio xvi. of _Pars -prima_ has for its subject _Veritas_. And in the first article, which -discusses whether truth is in the thing (_in re_) or only in the mind, he -argues thus: - - "As _good_ signifies that upon which desire (_appetitus_) is bent, so - _true_ signifies that at which understanding aims. There is this - difference between desire and understanding or any kind of cognition: - cognition exists in so far as what is known (_cognitum_) is in the - knower; but desire is as the desirous inclines toward the desired. - Thus the end (_terminus_ == _finis_) of desire, which is the _good_, - is in the desirable thing; but the end of knowing, which is the true, - is in mind itself." - -In _Articulus 4_, Thomas comes to his point: that the true _secundum -rationem_ (_i.e._ according to its formal nature) is prior to the good. - - "Although both the good and the true have been taken as convertible - with being, yet they differ in their conception (_ratione_); and that - the true is prior to the good appears from two considerations: First, - the true is more closely related to being, which is prior to the good; - for the true regards being itself, simply and directly; while the - ratio of the good follows being as in some way perfect, and therefore - desirable. Secondly, cognition naturally precedes desire. Therefore, - since the true regards cognition, and the good regards desire, the - true is prior to the good _secundum rationem_." - -This argument, whatever validity it may have, is significant of its -author's predominantly intellectual temperament, and consistent with his -conception of man's supreme beatitude as the intellectual vision of God. -Obviously, moreover, the setting of the true above the good is another way -of stating the primacy of knowledge over will, which is also maintained: -"Will and understanding (_intellectus_) mutually include each other: for -the understanding knows the will; and the will wills that the -understanding should know."[582] Evidently all rational beings have will -as well as understanding; God wills, the Angels will, man wills. Indeed, -how could knowledge progress but for the will to know? Yet of the two, -considered in themselves, understanding is higher than will-- - - "for its object is the _ratio_, the very essential nature, of the - desired good, while the object of will is the desired good whose - _ratio_ is in the understanding.... Yet will may be the higher, if it - is set upon something higher than the understanding.... When the thing - in which is the good is nobler than the soul itself, in which is the - rational cognizance (_ratio intellecta_), the will, through relation - to that thing, is higher than the understanding. But when the thing in - which is the good, is lower than the soul, then in relation to that - thing, the understanding is higher than the will. Wherefore the love - of God is better than the cognizance (_cognitio_); but the cognizance - of corporeal things is better than the love. Yet taken absolutely, the - understanding is higher than the will."[583] - -These positions of the Angelic Doctor were sharply opposed in his lifetime -and afterwards. Without entering the lists, let us rather follow him on -his evidently Aristotelian path, which quickly brings him to his next -conclusion: "That beatitude consists in the action of the speculative -rather than the practical intellect, as is evident from three arguments: - - "First, if man's beatitude is action, it ought to be the man's best - (optima) action. But man's best action is that of his best faculty in - respect to the best object. The best faculty is intelligence, whose - best object is the divine good, which is not an object of the - practical, but of the speculative intelligence. Wherefore, in such - action, to wit, in contemplation of things divine, beatitude chiefly - consists. And because _every one seems to be that which is best in - him_, as is said in the _Ethics_, so such action is most proper to man - and most enjoyable. - - "Secondly, the same conclusion appears from this, that contemplation - above all is sought on account of itself. The perfection (_actus_, - full realization) of the practical intelligence is not sought on - account of itself, but for the sake of action: the actions themselves - are directed toward some end. Hence it is evident that the final end - cannot consist in the _vita activa_, which belongs to the practical - intelligence. - - "Thirdly, it is plain from this, that in the _vita contemplativa_ man - has part with those above him, to wit, God and the Angels, unto whom - he is made like through beatitude; but in those matters which belong - to the _vita activa_, other animals, however imperfectly, have somehow - part with him. - - "And so the final and perfect beatitude which is looked for in the - life to come, in principle consists altogether in contemplation. But - the imperfect beatitude which may be had here, consists first and in - principle in contemplation, and secondly in the true operation of the - practical intellect directing human actions and passions, as is said - in the tenth book of the _Ethics_." - -It being thus shown that perfect beatitude lies in the action of the -speculative intelligence, Thomas next shows that it cannot consist in -consideration of the speculative sciences-- - - "for the consideration of a science does not reach beyond the potency - (_virtus_) of the principles of that science, seeing that the whole - science is contained potentially (_virtualiter_) in its principles. - But the principles of speculative sciences are received through the - senses, as the Philosopher makes clear. Therefore the entire - consideration of the speculative sciences cannot be extended beyond - that to which a cognition of sense-objects (_sensibilium_) is able to - lead. Man's final beatitude, which is his perfection, cannot consist - in the cognition of sense-objects. For no thing is perfected by - something inferior, except as there may be in the inferior some - participation in a superior. Evidently the nature (_forma_) of a - stone, or any other sensible thing, is inferior to man, save in so far - as something higher than the human intelligence has part in it, like - the light of reason.... But since there is in sensible forms some - participation in the similitude of spiritual substances, the - consideration of the speculative sciences is, in a certain way, - participation in true and perfect beatitude." - -Neither can perfect beatitude consist in knowledge of the higher, entirely -immaterial, or, as Thomas calls them, separate (_separatae_) substances, -to wit, the Angels. Because it cannot consist in that which is the -perfection of intelligence only from participation. The object of the -intelligence is the true. Whatever has truth only through participation in -something else cannot make the contemplating intelligence perfect with a -final perfection. But the angels have their being (_esse_) as they have -their truth, from the participation of the divine in them. Whence it -remains that only the contemplation of God, Who alone is truth through His -essential being, can make perfectly blessed. "But," adds Thomas, "nothing -precludes the expectation of some imperfect beatitude from contemplating -the angels, and even a higher beatitude than lies in the consideration of -the speculative sciences." - -So the conclusion is that "the final and perfect beatitude can be only in -the vision of the divine essence. The proof of this lies in the -consideration of two matters: first, that man is not perfectly blessed -(_beatus_) so long as there remains anything for him to desire or seek; -secondly, that the perfection of every capacity (_potentiae_), is adjudged -according to the nature (_ratio_) of its object." And a patent line of -argument leads to the unavoidable conclusion: "For perfect beatitude it is -necessary that the intellect should attain to the very essence of the -first cause. And thus it will have its perfection through union with God -as its object." - -There are few novel thoughts in Thomas's conception of man's supreme -beatitude. But he has taken cognizance of all pertinent considerations, -and put the whole matter together with stable coherency. He continues, -discussing in the succeeding Quaestiones a number of important matters -incidental to his central determination of the nature of man's supreme -good. Thus he shows how joy (_delectatio_) is a necessary accompaniment of -beatitude, which, however, in principle consists in the action of the -mind, which is _visio_, rather than in the resulting _delectatio_. The -latter consists in a quieting or satisfying of the will, through the -goodness of that in which it is satisfied. When the will is satisfied in -any action, that results from the goodness of the action; and the good -lies in the action itself rather than in the quieting of the will.[584] -Here Thomas's reasoning points to an active ideal, an ideal of energizing, -rather than repose. But he concludes that for beatitude "there must be a -concurrence of _visio_, which is the perfect cognizance of the -intelligible end; the getting it, which implies its presence; and the joy -or fruition, which implies the quieting of that which loves in that which -is loved."[585] Thomas also shows how rectitude of will is needed, and -discusses whether a body is essential; his conclusion being that a body is -not required for the perfect beatitude of the life to come; yet he gives -the counter considerations, showing the conduciveness of the perfected -body to the soul's beatitude even then. Next he follows Aristotle in -pointing out how material goods may be necessary for the attainment of the -imperfect beatitude possible on earth, while they are quite impertinent to -the perfect beatitude of seeing God; and likewise he shows how the society -of friends is needed here, but not essential hereafter, and yet a -concomitant to our supreme felicity. - -The course of argument of the Liber iii. of the _Contra Gentiles_ is not -dissimilar. A number of preliminary chapters show how all things tend to -an end; that the end of all is God; and that to know God is the end of -every intellectual being. Next, that human _felicitas_ does not consist in -all those matters, in which the _Summa theologiae_ also shows that -_beatitude_ does not lie; but that it consists in contemplation of God. He -puts his argument simply: - - "It remains that the ultimate felicity of man lies in contemplation of - truth. For this is the sole action (_operatio_) of man which is proper - to man alone. This alone is directed to nothing else, as an end; since - the contemplation of truth is sought for its own sake. Through this - action, likewise, man is joined to higher substances (_beings_) - through likeness of action, and through knowing them in some way. For - this action, moreover, man is most sufficient by himself, needing but - little external aid. To this also all other human acts seem to be - directed as to an end. For to the perfection of contemplation, - soundness of body is needed, to which all the arts of living are - directed. Also quiet from the disturbance of passions is required, to - which one comes through the moral virtues, and prudence; and quiet - also from tumults, to which end all rules of civil life are ordained; - and so, if rightly conceived, all human business seems to serve the - contemplation of truth. Nor is it possible for the final felicity of - man to consist in the contemplation which is confined to an - intelligence of beginnings (_principiorum_), which is most imperfect - and general (_universalis_), containing a knowledge of things - potentially: it is the beginning, not the end of human study. Nor can - that felicity lie in the contemplation of the sciences, which pertain - to the lowest things, since felicity ought to lie in the action of the - intelligence in relationship to the noblest intelligible verities. It - remains that man's final felicity consists in the contemplation of - wisdom pursuant to a consideration of things divine. From which it - also is evident by the way of induction, what was before proved by - arguments, that the final felicity of man consists only in - contemplation of God."[586] - -Having reached this central conclusion of the _Contra Gentiles_, as well -as of the _Summa theologiae_, Thomas proceeds to trim it further, so as -clearly to differentiate that knowledge of God in which lies the ultimate -felicity of intelligent beings from other ways of knowing God, which do -not fully represent this supreme and final bliss. He first excludes the -sort of common and confused knowledge of God, which almost all men draw -from observing the natural order of things; then he shuts out the -knowledge of God derived from logical demonstration, through which, -indeed, one rather approaches a proper knowledge of Him;[587] next, he -will not admit that supreme felicity lies in the cognition of God through -faith; since that is still imperfect. This felicity consists in -seeing[588] the divine essence, an impossibility in this life, when we see -as in a glass. The supreme felicity is attainable only after death. -Hereupon Thomas continues with the very crucial discussion of the capacity -of the rational creature to know God. But instead of following him further -in the _Contra Gentiles_, we will rather turn to his final presentation of -this question in his _Summa theologiae_. - - -II - -The great _Summa_, having opened with an introductory consideration of the -character of _sacra doctrina_,[589] at once fixes its attention upon the -existence and attributes of God. These having been reviewed, Thomas begins -Quaestio xii. by saying, that "as we have now considered what God is in -His own nature (_secundum se ipsum_) it remains to consider what He is in -our cognition, that is, how He is known by creatures." The first question -is whether any created intelligence whatsoever may be able to see God _per -essentiam_. Having stated the counter arguments, and relying on John's "we -shall see Him as He is," Thomas proceeds with his solution thus: - - "Since everything may be knowable so far as it exists in - actuality,[590] God, who is pure actuality, without any mingling of - potentiality, is in Himself, most knowable. But what is most knowable - in itself, is not knowable to every intelligence because of the - exceeding greatness of that which is to be known (_propter excessum - intelligibilis supra intellectum_); as the sun, which is most visible, - may not be seen by a bat, because of the excess of light. Mindful of - this, some have asserted that no created intelligence could behold the - essential nature (_essentiam_) of God. - - "But this is a solecism. For since man's final beatitude consists in - his highest action, which is the action of the intelligence, if the - created intelligence is never to be able to see the essential nature - of God, either it will never obtain beatitude, or its beatitude will - consist in something besides God: which is repugnant to the faith. For - the ultimate perfection of a rational creature lies in that which is - the source or principle (_principium_) of its being. Likewise the - argument is against reason. For there is in man a natural desire to - know the cause, when he observes the effect; and from this, wonder - rises in men. If then the intelligence of the rational creature is - incapable of attaining to the first cause of things, an inane desire - must be ascribed to nature. - - "Wherefore it is simply to be conceded that the blessed may see the - essential nature of God." - -So this general conclusion, or assumption, is based on faith, and also -leaps, as from the head of Jove, the creature of unconquerable human -need, which never will admit the inaneness of its yearnings. And now, -assuming the possibility of seeing God in his true nature, Thomas proves -that He cannot be seen thus through the similitude of any created thing: -in order to behold God's essence some divine likeness must be imparted -from the seeing power (_ex parte visivae potentiae_), to wit, the light of -divine glory (which is consummated grace) strengthening the intelligence -that it may see God. And he next shows that it is impossible to see God by -the sense of sight, or any other sense or power of man's sensible nature. -For God is incorporeal. Therefore He cannot be seen through the -imagination, but only through the intelligence. Nor can any created -intelligence through its natural faculties see the divine essence. -"Cognition takes place in so far as the known is in the knower. But the -known is in the knower according to the mode and capacity (_modus_) of the -knower. Whence any knower's knowledge is according to the measure of his -nature. If then the being of the thing to be known exceeds the measure of -the knowing nature, knowledge of it will be beyond the nature of that -knower." In order to see God in His essential nature, the created -intellect needs light created by God: _In lumine tuo videbimus lumen_. And -it may be given to one created intellect to see more perfectly than -another. - -Do those who see God _per essentiam_, comprehend Him? No. - - "To comprehend God is impossible for any created intelligence. To have - any true thought of God is a great beatitude.... Since the created - light of glory received by any created intelligence, cannot be - infinite, it is impossible that any created intelligence should know - God infinitely, and comprehend Him." - -Again he reasons; They who shall see God in His essence will see what they -see through the divine essence united to their intelligence; they will see -whatever they see at once, and not successively; for the contents of this -intellectual, God-granted vision are not apprehended by means of the -respective species or general images, but in and through the one divine -essence. But in this life, man may not see God in His essential nature: - - "The mode of cognition conforms to the nature of the knower. But our - soul, so long as we live in this life, has its existence (_esse_) in - corporeal matter. Wherefore, by nature, it knows only things that have - material form, or may through such be known. Evidently the divine - essence cannot be known through the natures of material things. Any - cognition of God through any created likeness whatsoever, is not a - vision of His essence.... Our natural cognition draws its origin from - sense; it may extend itself so far as it can be conducted (_manuduci_) - by things of sense (_sensibilia_). But from them our intelligence may - not attain to seeing the divine essence.... Yet since sensible - creatures are effects, dependant on a cause, we know from them that - God exists, and that as first cause He exceeds all that He has caused. - From which we may learn the difference between Himself and His - creatures, to wit, that He is not any of those things which He has - caused.... - - "Through grace a more perfect knowledge of God is had than through - natural reason. For cognition through natural reason needs both images - (_phantasmata_) received from things of sense, and the natural light - of intelligence, through whose virtue we abstract intelligible - conceptions from them. In both respects human cognition is aided - through the revelation of grace. For the natural light of the - intellect is strengthened through the infusion of light graciously - given (_luminis gratuiti_); while the images in the man's imagination - are divinely formed so that they are expressive of things divine, - rather than of what naturally is received through the senses, as - appears from the visions of the prophets."[591] - -Natural reason stops with the unity of God, and can give no knowledge of -the Trinity of divine Persons. Says Thomas:[592] - - "It has been shown that through natural reason man can know God only - _from His creatures_. Creatures lead to knowledge of God as effects - lead to some knowledge of a cause. Only that may be known of God by - natural reason which necessarily belongs to Him as the source of all - existences. The creative virtue of God is common to the whole Trinity; - it pertains to the unity of essence, not to the distinction of - persons. Through natural reason, therefore, those things concerning - God may be known which pertain to the unity of essence, but not those - which pertain to the distinction of persons.... Who strives to prove - the Trinity of Persons by natural reason, doubly disparages faith: - first as regards the dignity of faith itself, which concerns invisible - things surpassing human reason; secondly as derogating from its - efficiency in drawing men to it. For when any one in order to prove - the faith adduces reasons which are not cogent, he falls under the - derision of the faithless; for they think that we use such arguments, - and that we believe because of them. One shall not attempt to prove - things of faith save by authorities, and in discussion with those who - receive the authorities. With others it is enough to argue that what - the faith announces is not impossible." - -Here Thomas seems rationally to recognize the limits upon reason in -discovering the divine nature. In the regions of faith, reason's feet lack -the material footing upon which to mount. So Thomas would assert. But will -he stand to his assertion? The shadowy line between reason and faith -wavers with him. At least so it seems to us, for whom ontological -reasoning has lost reality, and who find proofs of God not so much easier -than proofs of the Trinity. But Thomas and the other scholastics dwelt in -the region of the metaphysically ideal. To them it was not only real, but -the most real; and it was so natural to step across the line of faith, -trailing clouds of reason. The feet of such as Thomas are as firmly -planted on the one side of the line as on the other. And now, as it might -also seem, Thomas, having thus formally reserved the realm of faith, -quickly steps across the line, to undertake a tremendous metaphysical -exposition of the Trinity, of the distinctions between its Persons, of -their properties, respective functions, and relationships; and all this is -carried on largely in the categories of Aristotelian philosophy. Yet is he -not still consistent with himself? For he surely did not conceive the -elements of his discussion to lie in the lucubrations or discoveries of -the natural reason; but in the data of revelation, and their explanation -by saintly doctors. And was not he also a vessel of their inspiration, a -son of faith, who might humbly hope for the light of grace, to transfigure -and glorify his natural powers in the service of revealed truth? - -Thomas's ideal is intellectual, and yet ends in faith. His intellectual -interests, by faith emboldened, strengthened, and pointed heavenward, make -on toward the realisation of that intellectual beatitude which is to be -consummate hereafter, when the saved soul's grace-illumined eye shall -re-awaken where it may see face to face. - - -III - -Knowledge, then, supplemented in this life by faith, is the primary -element of blessedness. We now turn our attention to the forms of -knowledge and modes of knowing appropriate to the three rational -substances: God, angel, man. The first is the absolute incorporeal being, -the primal mover, in whom there is no potentiality, but actuality simple -and perfect. The second is the created immaterial or "separated" -substance, which is all that it is through participation in the uncreate -being of its Creator. The third is the composite creature man, made of -both soul and body, his capacities conditioned upon the necessities of his -dual nature, his sense-perception and imagination being as necessary to -his knowledge, as his rational understanding; for whom alone it is true -that sense-apprehension may lead to the intelligible verities of God: -"etiam sensibilia intellecta manuducunt ad intelligibilia divinorum."[593] - -The earlier Quaestiones of _Pars prima_, on the nature of God, lead on to -a consideration of God's knowledge and ways of knowing. Those Quaestiones -expounded the qualities of God quite as far as comported with Thomas's -realization of the limitation of the human capacity to know God in this -life. Quaestio iii. upon the _Simplicitas_ of God, shows that God is not -body (_corpus_); that in Him there is no compositeness of form and -material; that throughout His nature, He is one and the same, and -therefore that He _is_ His _Deitas_, His _vita_, and whatever else may be -predicated of Him. Next it is shown (Qu. iv.) that God is perfect; that in -Him are the _perfectiones_ of all things, since whatever there may be of -perfection in an effect, should be found in the effective cause; and as -God is self-existent being, He must contain the whole perfection of being -in Himself (_totam perfectionem essendi in se_). Next, that God is the -good (_bonum_) and the _summum bonum_; He is infinite; He is in all things -(Qu. viii. Art. 1) not as a part of their essence, but as _accidens_, and -as the doer is in his deeds; and not only in their beginning, but so long -as they exist; He acts upon everything immediately, and nothing is -distant from Him; God is everywhere: as the soul is altogether in every -part of the body, so God entire is in all things and in each. God is in -all things created by Him as the working cause; but He is in the rational -creature, through grace; as the object of action is in the actor, as the -known is in the knower, and the desired in the wishful. God is immutable -(Qu. ix.); for as final actuality (_actus purus_), with no admixture of -potentiality, He cannot change; nor can He be _moved_; since His -infinitude comprehends the plenitude of all perfection, there is nothing -that He can acquire, and no whither for Him to extend. God is eternal (Qu. -x.); for him there is no beginning, nor any succession of time; but an -interminable now, an all at once (_tota simul_), which is the essence of -eternity, as distinguished from the successiveness of even infinite time. -And God is One (Qu. xi.). "One does not add anything to being, save -negation of division. For One signifies nothing else than undivided being -(_ens indivisum_). And from this it follows that One is convertible with -being." That God is One, is proved by His _simplicitas_; by the -infiniteness of His perfection; and by the oneness of the world. - - "After a consideration," now says Thomas, "of those matters which - pertain to the divine substance, we may consider those which pertain - to its action (_operatio_). And because certain kinds of action remain - in the doer, while others pass out into external effect, we first - treat of knowledge and will (for knowing is in the knower and willing - in him who wills); and then of God's power, which is regarded as the - source of the divine action passing out into external effect. Then, - since knowing is a kind of living, after considering the divine - knowledge, the divine life will be considered. And because knowledge - is of the true, there will be need to consider truth and falsity. - Again since every cognition is in the knower, the _rationes_ (types, - essential natures) of things as they are in God the Knower (_Deo - cognoscente_) are called ideas (_ideae_); and a consideration of these - will be joined to the consideration of knowledge."[594] - -Thus clearly laying out his topic, Thomas begins his discussion of God's -knowledge (_scientia Dei_); of the modes in which God knows and the -knowledge which He has. In God is the most perfect knowledge. God knows -Himself through Himself; in Him knowledge and Knower (_intellectum_ and -_intellectus_) are the same.[595] He perfectly comprehends Himself; for He -knows Himself so far as He is knowable; and He is absolutely knowable -being utter reality (_actus purus_). Likewise He knows things other than -Himself. For He knows Himself perfectly, which implies a knowledge of -those things to which His power (_virtus_) extends. Moreover, He knows all -things in their special natures and distinctions from each other: for the -perfection, or perfected actuality, of everything is contained in Him; and -therefore God in Himself is able to know all things perfectly, and the -special nature of everything exists through some manner of participation -in the divine perfection. God knows all things in one, to wit, Himself; -and not successively, or by means of discursive reasoning. "God's -knowledge is the cause of things. It stands to all created beings as the -knowledge of the artificer to the things he makes. God causes things -through His knowledge, since His being is His knowing (_cum suum esse sit -suum intelligere_)." His knowledge causes things when it has the will -joined with it, and, in so far as it is the cause of things, is called -_scientia approbationis_. God knows things which are not actually -(_actu_). Whatever has been or will be, He knows by the knowledge of sight -(_scientia visionis_, which by implication is equivalent to _scientia -approbationis_). For God's knowing, which is His being, is measured by -eternity; and eternity includes all time, as present, and without -succession; so the present vision (_intuitus_) of God embraces all time -and all things existing at any time, as if present. As for whatever is in -the power of God or creature, but which never has been or will be, God -knows it not as in vision, but simply knows it. - -God also knows evil. - - "Whoever knows anything perfectly should know whatever might happen to - it. There are some good things to which it may happen to be corrupted - through evils: wherefore God would not know the good perfectly, - unless He also knew the evil. Everything is knowable so far as it - _is_; but the being (_esse_) of evil is the privation of good: hence - inasmuch as God knows good, He knows evil, as darkness is known - through light." - -Thomas now takes up a point curious perhaps to us, but of importance to -him and Aristotle: does God know individuals (_singularia_), the -particular as opposed to the universal? This point might seem disposed of -in the argument by which Thomas maintained that God knew things in their -special and distinct natures. But he now proves that God knows -_singularia_ by an argument which bears on his contention that man does -not know _singularia_ through the intelligence, but perceives them through -sense; and as we shall see, that the angels have no direct knowledge of -individuals, being immaterial substances. - - "God knows individuals (_cognoscit singularia_). For all perfections - found in creatures pre-exist in higher mode in God. To know - (_cognoscere_) individuals pertains to our perfection. Whence it - follows that God must know them. The Philosopher (Aristotle) holds it - to be illogical that anything should be known to us, and not to - God.... But the perfections which are divided in inferior beings, - exist simply and as one in God. Hence, although through one faculty we - know universals and what is immaterial, and through another, - individuals and what is material; yet God simply, through His - intelligence, knows both.... One must hold that since God is the cause - of things through His knowledge, the knowledge of God extends itself - as far as His causality extends. Wherefore, since God's active virtue - extends itself not only to forms, from which is received the _ratio_ - of the universal, but also to matter, it is necessary that God's - knowledge should extend itself to individuals, which are such through - matter." - -And replying to a counter-argument Thomas continues: - - "Our intelligence abstracts the intelligible species from the - individuating principles. Therefore the intelligible species of our - intelligence cannot be the likeness of the individual principles; and, - for this reason, our intelligence does not know individuals. But the - intelligible species of the divine intelligence, which is the essence - of God, is not immaterial through abstraction, but through itself; and - exists as the principle of all principles entering the composition of - the thing, whether principles of species or of the individual. - Therefore through His essence God knows both universals and - individuals."[596] - -With these arguments still echoing, Thomas shows that God can know -infinite things; also future contingencies; also whatever may be stated -(_enuntiabilia_). His knowledge, which is His substance, does not change. -It is speculative knowledge, in so far as relating to His own unchangeable -nature, and to whatever He can do, but does not; it is practical knowledge -so far as it relates to anything which He does. - -Thomas concludes his direct discussion of God's knowledge, by an -application of the Platonic theory of _ideas_, in which he mainly follows -Augustine. - - "It is necessary to place _ideas_ in the divine mind. _Idea_ is the - Greek for the Latin _forma_. Thus through _ideas_ are understood the - forms of things existing beyond the things themselves. By which we - mean the prototype (_exemplar_) of that of which it is called the - form; or the principle of its cognition, in so far as the forms of - things knowable are said to be in the knower." - -There must be many ideas or (as Augustine phrases it) stable _rationes_ of -things. There is a _ratio_ in the divine mind corresponding to whatever -God does or knows. - - "Ideas were set by Plato as the principles both of the cognition and - the generation of things, and in both senses they are to be placed in - the divine mind. So far as _idea_ is the principle of the making of a - thing, it may be called the prototype (_exemplar_), and pertains to - practical knowledge (_practicam cognitionem_); but as the principle of - cognition (_principium cognoscitivum_), it is properly called _ratio_, - and may also pertain to speculative knowledge. In the signification of - _exemplar_, it relates to everything created at any time by God: but - when it means _principium cognoscitivum_, it relates to all things - which are known by God, although never coming into existence."[597] - -Such are the divine modes of knowledge. Thomas proceeds to discuss other -aspects of the divine nature, the life and power, will and love, which may -be ascribed to God. He then passes on to a discussion of the Persons of -the Trinity. This completed, he turns to the world of created substances; -into which we will follow him so far as to observe the forms of knowledge -and ways of knowing proper to angels and mankind. We shall hereafter have -to speak of the divine and angelic love, and of man's love of God; but -here, as our field is intellectual, we will simply recall to mind that -Thomas applies a like intellectual conception of beatitude to both God and -His rational creatures: - - "Beatitude, as has been said, signifies the perfect good of the - intellectual nature; as everything desires its perfection, the - intellectual [substance] desires to be _beata_. That which is most - perfect in every intellectual nature, is the intellectual operation - wherein, in a measure, it grasps all things. Wherefore the beatitude - of any created intellectual nature consists in knowing (_in - intelligendo_)."[598] - - -IV - -Thomas regards the creation as a _processio_, a going out of all creatures -from God. Every being (_ens_) that in any manner (_quocumque modo_) is, is -from God. - - "God is the _prima causa exemplaris_ of all things.... For the - production of anything, there is needed a prototype (_exemplar_), in - order that the effect may follow a determined form.... The - determination of forms must be sought in the divine wisdom. Hence one - ought to say that in the divine wisdom are the _rationes_ of all - things: these we have called _ideas_, to wit, prototypal forms - existing in the divine mind. Although such may be multiplied in - respect to things, yet really they are not other than the divine - essence, according as its similitude can be participated in by divers - things in divers ways. Thus God Himself is the first _exemplar_ of - all. There may also be said to be in created things certain - _exemplaria_ of other things, when they are made in the likeness of - such others, or according to the same species or after the analogy of - some resemblance."[599] - -God not only is the efficient and exemplary cause, but also the final -cause of all things (_Divina bonitas est finis omnium rerum_). "The -emanation (_emanatio_) of all being from the universal cause, which is -God, we call creation."[600] God alone may be said to create. The function -pertains not to any Person, but to the whole Trinity in common. And there -is found some image of the Trinity in rational creatures in whom is -intelligence and will; and in all creatures may be found some vestiges of -the creator. - -Thomas, after a while, takes up the distinction between spiritual and -corporeal creatures, and considers first the purely spiritual, called -Angels. We enter with him upon the contemplation of these conceptions, -which scholasticism did not indeed create, but elaborated with marvellous -logic, and refined to a consistent intellectual beauty. None had larger -share in perfecting the logical conception of the angelic nature, as -immaterial and essentially intellectual, than our Angelic Doctor. A volume -might well be devoted to tracing the growth of these beings of the mind, -from their not unmilitant career in the Old Testament and the Jewish -Apocrypha, their brief but classically beautiful mention in the Gospels, -and their storm-red action in the Apocalypse; then through their treatment -by the Fathers, to their hierarchic ordering by the great -Pseudo-Areopagite; and so on and on, through the earlier Scholastics, the -Lombard's _Sentences_, and Hugo of St. Victor's appreciative presentation; -up to the gathering of all the angelic matter by Albertus Magnus, its -further encyclopaedizing by Vincent of Beauvais, and finally its perfect -intellectual disembodiment by Thomas;--while all the time the people's -mythopoeic love went on endowing these guardian spirits with heart and -soul, and fashioning responsive stories of their doings. For men loved and -feared them, and looked to them as God's peculiar messengers. Thus they -flash past us in the _Divina Commedia_; and their forms become lovely in -Christian art. - -As we enter upon the contemplation of the angelic nature, let us not as of -course regard angels simply as imaginative conceptions of Scripture and of -the patristic and mediaeval mind. Thomas will show his reasons for their -necessary existence, which may not convince us. Yet we may believe in -angels, inasmuch as any real conception of the world's governance by God -requires the fulfilling of His thoughts through media that bring them down -to move and live and realize themselves with each of us. Who, in striving -to express, can do more than symbolize, the ways of God? What symbols -truer than angels have been devised? - - "It is necessary," opens Thomas,[601] "to affirm (_ponere_) that there - are incorporeal creatures. For in created things God chiefly intends - the good, which consists in assimilation to Him. Perfect assimilation - of the effect to the cause is seen when the effect resembles the cause - in that through which the cause produces the effect. God produces the - creature through intelligence and will. Consequently the perfection of - the universe requires that there should be intellectual creatures. To - know cannot be the act (_actus_) of the body or of any corporeal - faculty (_virtus_); because all body is limited to here and now. - Therefore it is necessary, in order that the universe may be perfect, - that there should be incorporeal creatures."[602] - -Thomas then argues that the intellectual substance is entirely immaterial. -"Angelic substances are above our understanding. So our understanding -cannot attain to apprehending them as they are in themselves; but only in -its own fashion as it apprehends composite things." These immaterial -substances exist in exceeding great number, and each is a species, because -there cannot be several immaterial beings of one species, any more than -there could be separate whitenesses or many humanities. Angels in their -nature are imperishable. For nothing is corrupted save as its form is -separated from its matter. But these immaterial substances are not -composed of matter and form, being themselves subsisting forms and -indestructible. Brass may have and lose a circular shape; but the circular -shape cannot be separated from the circle, which it is. - -Thomas next shows (_Pars prima_, Qu. li.) that angels have no bodies by -nature joined to them. Body is not of the _ratio_ of intellectual -substances. These (when perfect and not like the human soul) have no need -to acquire knowledge through sensation. But though angels are intellectual -substances, separate (_separatae_) from bodies, they sometimes assume -bodies. In these they can perform those actions of life which have -something in common with other kinds of acts; as speech, a living act, has -something in common with inanimate sounds. Thus far only can physical acts -be performed by angels, and not when such acts essentially belong to -living bodies. Angels may appear as living men, but are not; neither are -they sentient through the organs of their assumed bodies; they do not eat -and digest food; they move only _per accidens_, incidentally to the -inanimate motion of their assumed bodies; they do not beget, nor do they -really speak; "but it is something like speech, when these bodies make -sounds in the air like human voices." - -Dropping the sole remark, that scholasticism has no sense of humour, we -pass on to Thomas's careful consideration of the angelic relations to -space or locality (Qu. lii. and liii.). "Equivocally only may it be said -that an angel is in a place (_in loco_): through application of the -angelic virtue to some corporeal spot, the angel may be said in some sense -to be there." But, as angels are finite, when one is said, in this sense, -to be in a place, he is not elsewhere too (like God). Yet the place where -the angel is need not be an indivisible point, but may be larger or -smaller, as the angel wills to apply his virtue to a larger or smaller -body. Two angels may not be in the same place at the same time, "because -it is impossible that there should be two complete immediate causes of one -and the same thing." Angels are said, likewise equivocally, to move, in a -sense analogous to that in which they are said to be in a place. Such -equivocal motion may be continuous or not. If not continuous, evidently -the angel may pass from one place to another without traversing the -intervening spaces. The angelic movement must take place in time; there -must be a before and after to it, and yet not necessarily with any period -intervening. - -Now as to angelic knowledge: _De cognitione Angelorum_. Knowing is no easy -thing for man; and we shall see that it is not a simple matter to know, -without the senses to provide the data and help build up knowledge in the -mind. The function of sense, or its absence, conditions much besides the -mere acquisition of the elements from which men form their thoughts. -Thomas's exposition of angelic knowledge and modes of knowing is a logical -and consistent presentation of a supersensual psychology and theory of -knowledge. - -Entering upon his subject, Thomas shows (Qu. liv.) that knowing -(_intelligere_) is not the _substantia_ or the _esse_ of an angel. Knowing -is _actio_, which is the actuality of faculty, as being (_esse_) is the -actuality of substance. God alone is _actus purus_ (absolute realized -actuality), free from potentiality. His _substantia_ is His being and His -action (_suum esse_ and _suum agere_). "But neither in an angel, nor in -any creature, is _virtus_ or the _potentia operativa_ the same as the -creature's _essentia_," or its _esse_ or _substantia_. The difficult -scholastic-Aristotelian categories of _intellectus agens_ and _possibilis_ -do not apply to angelic cognition (for which the reader and the angels may -be thankful). The angels, being immaterial intelligences, have no share in -those faculties of the human soul, like sight or hearing, which are -exercised through bodily organs. They possess only intelligence and will. -"It accords with the order of the universe that the supreme intellectual -creature should be intelligent altogether, and not intelligent in part, -like our souls." - -Quaestio lv., concerning the _medium cognitionis angelicae_, is a -scholastic discussion scarcely to be rendered in modern language. The -angelic intelligence is capable of knowing all things; and therefore an -angel does not know through the medium of his _essentia_ or _substantia_, -which are limited. God alone knows all things through His _essentia_. The -angelic intellect is made perfect for knowing by means of certain forms or -ideas (_species_). These are not received from things, but are part of the -angelic nature (_connaturales_). The angelic intelligence (_potentia -intellectiva_) is completed through general concepts, of the same nature -with itself (_species intelligibiles connaturales_). These come to angels -from God at the same time with their being. Such concepts or ideas cover -everything that they can know by nature (_naturaliter_). And Thomas proves -that the higher angels know through fewer and more universal concepts than -the lower. - - "In God an entire plenitude of intellectual cognition is held _in - one_, to wit, in the divine essence through which God knows all - things. Intelligent creatures possess such cognition in inferior mode - and less simply. What God knows through one, inferior intelligences - know through many; and this many becomes more as the inferiority - increases. Hence the higher angel may know the sum total of the - intelligible (_universitatem intelligibilium_) through fewer ideas or - concepts (_species_); which, however, are more universal since each - concept extends to more [things]. We find illustration of this among - our fellows. Some are incapable of grasping intelligible truth, unless - it be set forth through particular examples. This comes from the - weakness of their intelligence. But others, of stronger mind, can - seize many things from a few statements" (Qu. lv. Art. 3). - -Through this argument, and throughout the rest of his exposition of the -knowledge of God, angel, and man, we perceive that, with Thomas, knowledge -is superior and more delightful, as it is abstract in character, and -universal in applicability. By knowing the abstract and the universal we -become like to God and the angels; knowledge of and through the particular -is but a necessity of our half-material nature. - -Thomas turns now to consider the knowledge had by angels of immaterial -beings, _i.e._ themselves and God (Qu. lvi.): "An angel, being immaterial, -is a subsisting form, and therefore intelligible actually (_actu_, _i.e._ -not potentially). Wherefore, through its form, which is its substance, it -knows itself." Then as to knowledge of each other: God from the beginning -impressed upon the angelic mind the likenesses of things which He created. -For in Him, from the beginning, were the _rationes_ of all things, both -spiritual and corporeal. Through the impression of these _rationes_ upon -the angelic mind, an angel knows other angels as well as corporeal -creatures. Their natures also yield them some knowledge of God. The -angelic nature is a mirror holding the divine similitude. Yet without the -illumination of grace the angelic nature knows not God in His essence, -because no created likeness may represent that. - -As for material things (Qu. lvii.), angels have knowledge of them through -the intelligible species or concepts impressed by God on the angelic mind. -But do they know particulars--_singularia_? To deny it, says Thomas, -would detract from the faith which accords to angels the ministration of -affairs. This matter may be thought thus: - - "Things flow forth from God both as they subsist in their own natures - and as they are in the angelic cognition. Evidently what flowed from - God in things pertained not only to their universal nature, but to - their principles of individuation.... And as He causes, so He also - knows.... Likewise the angel, through the concepts (_species_) planted - in him by God, knows things not only according to their universal - nature, but also according to their singularity, in so far as they are - manifold representations of the one and simple essence." - -One observes that the whole scholastic discussion of universals lies back -of arguments like these. - -The main principles of angelic knowledge have now been set forth; and -Thomas pauses to point out to what extent the angels know the future, the -secret thoughts of our hearts, and the mysteries of grace. He has still to -consider the mode and measure of the angelic knowledge from other points -of view. Whatever the angels may know through their implanted natures, -they know perfectly (_actu_); but it may be otherwise as to what is -divinely revealed to them. What they know, they know without the need of -argument. And the discussion closes with remarks on Augustine's phrase and -conception of the _matutina_ and _vespertina_ knowledge of angels: the -former being the knowledge of things as they are in the Word; the latter -being the knowledge of things as they are in their own natures.[603] - - -V - -That the abstract and the universal is the noble and delectable, we learn -from this exposition of angelic knowledge. We may learn the same from -Thomas's presentation of the modes and contents of human understanding. -The _Summa theologiae_ follows the Scriptural order of presentation;[604] -which is doubtless the reason why Thomas, instead of passing from -immaterial creatures to the partly immaterial creature man, considers -first the creation of physical things--the Scriptural work of the six -days. After this he takes up the last act of the Creation--man. In the -_Summa_ he considers man so far as his composite nature comes within the -scope of theology. Accordingly the principal topic is the human soul -(_anima_); and the body is regarded only in relation to the soul, its -qualities and its fate. Thomas will follow Dionysius (Pseudo-Areopagite) -in considering first the nature (_essentia_) of the soul, then its -faculties (_virtus sive potentiae_), and thirdly, its mode of action -(_operatio_). - -Under the first head he argues (_Pars prima_, Qu. lxxv.) that the soul, -which is the _primum principium_ of life, is not body, but the body's -consummation (_actus_) and _forma_. Further, inasmuch as the soul is the -_principium_ of mental action, it must be an incorporeal principle -existing by itself. It cannot properly be said to be the man; for man is -not soul alone, but a composite of soul and body. But the soul, being -immaterial and intellectual, is not a composite of form and matter. It is -not subject to corruption. Concerning its union with the body (Qu. -lxxvi.), "it is necessary to say that the mind (_intellectus_), which is -the principle of intellectual action, is the _form_ (_forma_) of the human -body." One and the same intellectual principle does not pertain to all -human bodies: there is no common human soul, but as many souls as there -are men.[605] Yet no man has a plurality of souls. "If indeed the _anima -intellectiva_ were not united to the body as form, but only as _motor_ (as -the Platonists affirm), it would be necessary to find in man another -substantial form, through which the body should be set in its being. But -if, as we have shown, the soul is united to the body as substantial form, -there cannot be another substantial form beside it" (Qu. lxxvi. Art. 4). -The human soul is fitly joined to its body; for it holds the lowest grade -among intellectual substances, having no knowledge of truth implanted in -it, as the angels have; it has to gather knowledge _per viam sensus_. "But -nature never omits what is necessary. Hence the _anima intellectiva_ must -have not only the faculty of knowing, but the faculty of feeling -(_sentiendi_). Sense-action can take place only through a corporeal -instrument. Therefore the _anima intellectiva_ ought to be united to such -a body, which should be to it a convenient organ of sense" (Art. 5). -Moreover, "since the soul is united to the body as form, it is altogether -in any and every part of the body" (Art. 8). - -It is a cardinal point (Qu. lxxvii.) with Thomas that the soul's -_essentia_ is not its _potentia_: the soul is not its faculties. That is -true only of God. In Him there is no diversity. There is some diversity of -faculty in an angel; and more in man, a creature on the confines of the -corporeal and spiritual creation, in whom concur the powers of both. There -is order and priority among the powers of the soul: the _potentiae -intellectivae_ are higher than the _potentiae sensitivae_, and control -them; while the latter are above the _potentiae nutritivae_. Yet the order -of their generation is the reverse. The highest of the sensitive faculties -is sight. The _anima_ is the subject in which are the powers of knowing -and willing (_potentiae intellectivae_); but the subject in which are the -powers of sensation is the combination of the soul and body. All the -powers of the soul, whether the subject be soul alone or soul and body, -flow from the essence of the soul, as from a source (_principium_). - -Thomas follows (Qu. lxxviii.) Aristotle in dividing the powers of the soul -into vegetative, sensitive, appetitive, motor, and intellectual. In taking -up the last, he points out (Qu. lxxix.) that intelligence (_intellectus_) -is a power of the soul, and not the soul itself. He then follows the -Philosopher in showing how intelligence (_intelligere_) is to be regarded -as a passive power, and he presents the difficult Aristotelian device of -the _intellectus agens_, and argues that memory and reason are not to be -regarded as powers distinct from the intelligence (_intellectus_). - -How does the soul, while united to the body (the _anima conjuncta_), (1) -know corporeal things which are beneath it? (2) how does it know itself -and what is in itself? and (3) how does it know immaterial substances -which are above it? The exposition of these problems is introduced by (Qu. -lxxxiv.) a historical discussion of the _primi philosophi_ who thought -there was nothing but body in the world. Then came Plato, seeking "to save -some certain cognition of truth" by means of his theory of Ideas. But -Plato seems to have erred in thinking that the form of the known must be -in the knower as it is in the known. This is not necessary. In -sense-perception the form of the thing is not in sense as it is in the -thing. "And likewise the intelligence receives the _species_ (Ideas) of -material and mobile bodies immaterially and immutably, after its own mode; -for the received is in the recipient after the mode of the recipient. -Hence it is to be held that the soul through the intelligence knows bodies -by immaterial, universal, and necessary cognition." - -Thomas sets this matter forth in a manner very illuminating as to his -general position regarding knowledge: - - "It follows that material things which are known must exist in the - knower, not materially, but immaterially. And the reason of this is - that the act of cognition extends itself to those things which are - outside of the knower. For we know things outside of us. But through - matter, the form of the thing is limited to what is single (_aliquid - unum_). Hence it is plain that the _ratio_ (proper nature) of - cognition is the opposite of the _ratio_ of materiality. And therefore - things, like plants, which receive forms only materially, are in no - way _cognoscitivae_, as is said in the second book of _De anima_. The - more immaterially anything possesses the form of the thing known, the - more perfectly it knows. Wherefore the intelligence, which abstracts - the species (Idea) not only from matter, but also from individualizing - material conditions, knows more perfectly than sense, which receives - the form of the thing known without matter indeed, but with material - conditions. Among the senses themselves, sight is the most - _cognoscitivus_, because least material. And among intelligences, that - is the more perfect which is the more immaterial" (Qu. lxxxiv. Art. - 2). - -Then Thomas again differs from Plato, and holds with Aristotle, that the -intelligence through which the soul knows has not its ideas written upon -it by nature, but from the first is capable of receiving them all (sed est -in principio in potentia ad hujusmodi species omnes). Hereupon, and with -further arguments, Thomas shows "that the _species intelligibiles_, by -which our soul knows, do not arise from separate forms" or ideas. - -To the converse question, whether intelligent cognition comes from things -of sense, Thomas answers, following Aristotle: "One cannot say that sense -perception is the whole cause of intellectual cognition, but rather in a -certain way is the matter of the cause (_materia causae_)." On the other -hand, - - "it is impossible that the mind, in the state of the present life, - wherein it is joined to the passive body (_passibili corpori_), should - know anything actually (_actu_) except by turning itself to images - (_phantasmata_). And this appears from two arguments. In the first - place, since the mind itself is a power (_vis_) using no bodily organ, - its action would not be interrupted by an injury to any bodily organ, - if for its action there was not needed the action of some faculty - using a bodily organ. Sense and imagination use a bodily organ. Hence - as to what the mind knows actually (_actu_), there is needed the - action of the imagination and other faculties, both in receiving new - knowledge and in using knowledge already acquired. For we see that - when the action of the imaginative faculty is interrupted by injury to - an organ, as with the delirious, the man is prevented from actually - knowing those things of which he has knowledge. Secondly (as any one - may observe in himself), whenever he attempts to know (_intelligere_) - anything, he forms images by way of example, in which he may - contemplate what he is trying to know. And whenever we wish to make - any one else understand, we suggest examples, from which he may make - for himself images to know by. - - "The reason of this is that the knowing faculty is suited to the - knowable (_potentia cognoscitiva proportionatur cognoscibili_). The - appropriate object of the intelligence of an angel, who is separate - from all body, is intelligible immaterial substance (_substantia - intelligibilis a corpore separata_); through this kind of intelligible - he cognizes also material things. But the appropriate object of the - human mind, which is joined to a body, is the essence or nature - (_quidditas sive natura_) existing in material body; and through the - natures of visible things of this sort it ascends to some cognition of - invisible things. It belongs to the idea (_ratio_) of this nature that - it should exist in some individual having corporeal matter, as it is - of the concept (_ratio_) of the nature of stone or horse that it - should be in _this_ stone or _this_ horse. Hence the nature of a stone - or any material thing cannot be known completely and truly, unless it - is known as existing in some particular [instance]. We apprehend the - particular through sense and imagination; and so it is necessary, in - order that the mind should know its appropriate object, that it should - turn itself to images, in order to behold the universal nature - existing in the particular. If, indeed, the appropriate object of our - intelligence were the separate form, or if the form of sensible - things did not subsist in the particular [instances], as the - Platonists say, our mind in knowing would have no need always to turn - itself to images" (Qu. lxxxiv. Art. 7). - -It is next queried whether the judgment of the mind is impeded through -binding (_per ligamentum_) the senses. In view of the preceding argument -the answer is, that since "all that we know in our present state, becomes -known to us through comparison with sensible things, it is impossible that -there should be in us perfect mental judgment when the senses are tied, -through which we take cognizance of sensible things" (Qu. lxxxiv. Art. 8). - -This entire argument shows in what firm Aristotelian manner, -scholasticism, in the person of Thomas, set itself upon a basis of sense -perception; through which it still pressed to a knowledge of the -supersensible and abstract. In this argument we also see, as always with -Thomas, that knowledge is perfect and blessed, the more immaterial and -abstract are its modes. All of which will continue to impress us as we -follow Thomas, briefly, through his exposition of the _modus_ and _ordo_ -of knowing (_intelligendi_) (Qu. lxxxv.). - -The first question is whether our mind knows corporeal things by -abstracting the species from the images--the type from the particular. -There are three grades of the cognizing faculty (_virtutis -cognoscitivae_). The lowest is sensation, which is the act of a bodily -organ. Its appropriate object is form as existing in matter. And since -matter is the principle of individuation (_i.e._ the particularizing -principle from which results the particular or individual), sense -perception is confined to the particular. The highest grade of the -cognitient faculty is that which is independent of bodily organs and -separate from matter, as the angelic intelligence; and its object is form -subsisting without matter. For though angels know material things, they -view them only in the immaterial, to wit, themselves or God. Between the -two is the human mind, which - - "is the _forma_ of the body. So it naturally knows form existing - individually in corporeal matter, and yet not as form is in such - matter. But to know form, which is in concrete matter, and yet know it - not as it is in such matter, is to abstract it from this particular - matter which the images represent. It follows that our intelligence - knows material things by abstracting them from images; and through - reflecting on these material abstractions we reach some cognition of - the immaterial, just as conversely the angels know the material - through the immaterial" (Qu. lxxxv. Art. 1). - -It is next proved that the soul, through the intelligible species or forms -abstracted from particulars, knows things which are outside the soul. In a -way, intellection arises from sense perception; therefore the sense -perception of the particular precedes the intellectual knowledge of -universals. But, on the other hand, the intelligence, in coming to perfect -cognition, proceeds from the undistinguished to the distinguished, from -the more to the less general, and so knows _animal_ before it knows -_homo_, and _homo_ before it knows Socrates. The next conclusion reads -very neatly in scholastic Latin, but is difficult to paraphrase: it is -that the intelligence may know many things at once (_simul_) _per modum -unius_, but not _per modum multorum_; that is to say, the mind may grasp -at once whatever it may grasp under one species, but cannot know a number -of things at once which fall under different species. - -Next as to what our mind knows in material things (Qu. lxxxvi.). It does -not know the particular or singular (_singularia_) in them directly; for -the principle of singularity in material things is the particular matter. -But our mind _knows_ by abstracting from such the species, that is, the -universal. This it knows directly. But it knows _singularia_ indirectly, -inasmuch as, when it has abstracted the intelligible species, it must -still, in order to know completely (_actu_), turn itself to the images in -which it knows the species. - -How does the _anima intellectiva_ know itself, and those things which are -in it (Qu. lxxxvii.)? Everything is knowable in so far as it is actually -(_in actu_) and not merely potentially. So the human intelligence knows -itself not through its essence, which is still but potential, but in so -far as it has actually realized itself; knows itself, that is, through its -actuality. The permanent qualities (_habitus_) of the soul exist in a -condition between potentiality and actuality. The mind knows them when -they are actually present or operative. - -Does the human intelligence know its own act--know that it knows? In God, -knowing and being are one. Although this is not true of the angelic -intelligence, nevertheless with an angel the prime object of knowledge is -his own essence. With one and the same act an angel knows that it knows, -and knows its essence. But the primal object of the human intelligence is -neither its knowledge (knowing, _intelligere_) nor its essence, but -something extrinsic, to wit, the nature of the material thing. Hence that -is the first object known by the human intelligence; and next is known its -own _actus_, by which that first object is known. Likewise the human -intelligence knows the acts of will. An act of will is nothing but a -certain inclination toward some form of the mind (_formam intellectam_) as -natural appetite is an inclination toward a natural form. The act of will -is in the knowing mind and so is known by it. - -So far as to how the soul knows material things, which are below it, and -its own nature and qualities. It is another question whether the soul -knows those things which are above it, to wit, the immaterial substances. -Can the soul in the state of the present life know the angels in -themselves? With lengthy argument, differing from Plato and adhering to -Aristotle, Thomas proves the negative: that in the present life we cannot -know _substantias separatas immateriales secundum seipsas_. Nor can we -come to a knowledge of the angelic substances through knowing material -things. - - "For immaterial substances are altogether of another nature (_ratio_) - from the whatnesses (_quidditates_) of material things; and however - much our intelligence abstracts from matter the essence (_quidditas_) - of the material thing, it will never arrive at anything like an - immaterial substance. And so, through material substances, we cannot - know immaterial substances perfectly" (Qu. lxxxviii. Art. 2). - -Much less can we thus know God. - -The discussion hitherto has been confined to the intellectual capacities -of souls united to their bodies. As to the knowledge which the "separated" -soul may have, other considerations arise akin to those touching the -knowledge possessed by the separated substances called angels. Is the -separated soul able to know? Thomas has shown that so long as the soul is -joined to the body it cannot know anything except by turning itself to -images. If this were a mere accident of the soul, incidental to its -existence in the body, then with that impediment removed, it would return -to its own nature and know simply. But if, as we suppose, this turning to -images is of the nature of the soul, the difficulty grows. Yet the soul -has one mode of existence when united to the body, and another when -separated, but with its nature remaining. Souls united to bodies may know -through resort to images of bodies, which are in the bodily organs; but -when separated, they may know by turning to that which is intelligible -simply, as other separate substances do. Yet still this raises doubt; for -why did not God appoint a nobler way for the soul to know than that which -is natural to it when joined to the body? The perfection of the universe -required that there should be diverse grades among intellectual -substances. The soul is the lowest of them. Its feeble intelligence was -not fit to receive perfect knowledge through universal conceptions, save -when assisted by concrete examples. Without these, souls would have had -but a confused knowledge. Hence, for their more perfect knowledge of -things, they are naturally united to bodies, and so receive a knowledge -from things of sense proper to their condition; just as rude men can be -led to know only through examples. So it was for a higher end that the -soul was united to the body, and knows through resort to images; yet, when -separated, it will be capable of another way of knowing.[606] - -Separated from the body, the soul can know itself through itself. It can -know other separated souls perfectly, but the angels, who are higher -natures, only imperfectly, at least through the knowledge which the -separated soul has from its nature; but that may be increased through -grace and glory. The separated soul will know natural objects through the -species (ideas) received from the inflowing divine light; yet less -perfectly than the angels. Likewise, less universally than angels, will -separated souls, by like means of species received from the divine light, -know particular things, and only such as they previously knew, or may know -through some affection or aptitude or the divine decree. For the habit and -aptitude of knowledge, and the knowledge already acquired, will remain in -the separated soul, so far as relates to the knowledge which is in the -intellect, and no longer in the lower perceptive faculties. Neither will -distance from the object affect the soul's knowledge, since it will know -through the influx of forms (_species_) from the divine light. - - "Yet through the cognition belonging to their nature, separated souls - do not know what is doing here below. For such souls know the - particular and concrete (_singularia_) only as from the traces - (_vestigia_) of previous cognition or affection, or by divine - appointment. And the souls of the dead by divine decree, and in - accordance with their mode of existence, are separated from the - intercourse of the living and joined to the society of spiritual - substances. Therefore they are ignorant of those things which are done - among us." - -Nevertheless, it would seem, according to the opinions of Augustine and -Gregory, "that the souls of the saints who see God know all that is done -here. Yet, perfectly joined to the divine righteousness, they are not -grieved, nor do they take part in the affairs of the living, save as the -divine disposition requires." - - "Still the souls of the dead are able to care for the affairs of the - living, although ignorant of their condition; just as we have care for - the dead, though ignorant of their state, by invoking the suffrages of - the Church. And the souls of the dead may be informed of the affairs - of the living from souls lately departed hence, or through angels or - demons, or by the revealing spirit of God. But if the dead appear to - the living, it is by God's special dispensation, and to be reckoned as - a divine miracle" (Qu. lxxxix. Art. 8). - - -VI - -We have thus traced Thomas's view of the faculty of knowledge, the primary -constituent of beatitude in God, and in angels and men. There are other -elements which not only supplement the faculty of knowledge, but even flow -as of necessity from a full and true conception of that faculty and its -perfect energizing. These needful, yet supplementary, factors are the -faculties of will and love and natural appetite; though the last does not -exist in God or angel or in "separated soul." The composite creature man -shares it with brutes: it is of enormous importance, since it may affect -his spiritual progress in this life, and so determine his state after -death. Let us observe these qualities in God, in the immaterial substances -called angels, and in man. - -In God there is volition as well as intelligence; for _voluntas -intellectum consequitur_; and as God's _being_ (_esse_) is His knowing -(_intelligere_), so likewise His being is His will (_velle_).[607] -Essentially alike in God and man and angel are the constituents of -spiritual beatitude and existence--knowing, willing, loving. From Creator -down to man, knowledge differs in mode and in degree, yet is essentially -the same. The like is true of will. As to love, because passion is of the -body, love and every mode of turning from or to an object is passionless -in God and the angels. Yet man through love, as well as through willing -and through knowing, may prove his kinship with angels and with God. - -God is love, says John's Epistle. "It is necessary to place love in God," -says Thomas. "For the first movement of will and any appetitive faculty -(_appetitivae virtutis_) is love (_amor_)." It is objected that love is a -passion; and the passionless God cannot love. Answers Thomas, "Love and -joy and delight are passions in so far as they signify acts (or -actualities, _actus_) of the _appetitus sensitivi_; but they are not -passions when they signify the _actus_ of the _appetitus intellectivi_; -and thus are they placed in God" (_Pars prima_, Qu. xx. Art. 1). - -God loves all existences. Now all existences, in so far as they are, are -good. For being itself (_esse_) is in a sense the _good_ of any thing, and -likewise its perfection. It has been shown that God's will is the cause of -all things; and thus it is proper that a thing should have being, or good, -in so far as it is willed by God. God wills some good to every existent -thing. And since to love is nothing else than to will good to something, -it is evident that God loves all things that are, yet not in the way we -love. For since our will is not the cause of the goodness of things, but -is moved by it as by an object, our love by which we will good to anything -is not the cause of its goodness; but its goodness calls forth the love by -which we wish to preserve and add to the good it has; and for this we -work. But God's love imparts and creates goodness in things. - -The divine love embraces all things in one and the same act of will; but -inasmuch as His love creates goodness, there could be no greater goodness -in one thing than in another unless He willed greater good to one than to -the other: in this sense He may be said to love one creature more than -another; and in this way He loves the better things more. Besides love, -the order of the universe proves God's _justitia_; an attribute which is -to be ascribed to Him, as Dionysius says, in that He grants to all things -what is appropriate, according to the dignity of the existence of each, -and preserves the nature of each in its own order and virtue. Likewise -_misericordia_ is to be ascribed to God, not as if He were affected by -pitying sadness, but in that He remedies the misery or defects of others. - -Thus far as to will and love in God. Next, as to these qualities in -Angels. Have angels will? (_Pars prima_, Qu. lix.). Thomas argues: All -things proceed from the divine will, and all _per appetitum_ incline -toward good. In plants this is called natural appetite. Next above them -come those creatures who perceive the particular good as of the senses; -their inclination toward it is _appetitus sensitivus_. Still above them -are such as know the _ratio_ of the good universally, through their -intelligence. Such are the angels; and in them inclination toward the good -is will. Moreover, since they know the nature of the good, they are able -to form a judgment as to it; and so they have free will: _ubicumque est -intellectus, est liberum arbitrium_. And as their knowledge is above that -of men, so in them free will exists more excellently. - -The angels have only the _appetitus intellectivus_ which is will; they are -not irascible or concupiscent, since these belong to the _appetitus -sensitivus_. Only metaphorically can _furor_ and evil concupiscence be -ascribed to demons, as anger is to God--_propter similitudinem effectus_. -Consequently _amor_ and _gaudium_ do not exist as passions in angels. But -in so far as these qualities signify solely an act of will, they are -intellectual. In this sense, to love is to will good to anything, and to -rejoice (_gaudere_) is to rest the will in a good obtained. Similarly, -_caritas_ and _spes_, in so far as they are virtues, lie not in appetite, -but in will; and thus exist in angels. With man the virtues of temperance -and fortitude may relate to things of sense; but not so with angels, who -have no passions to be bridled by these virtues. Temperance is ascribed to -them when they temper their will according to the will divine, and -fortitude, when they firmly execute it (Qu. lix. Art. 4). - -In a subsequent portion of _Pars prima_ (Qu. cx.) Thomas has occasion to -point out that, as in human affairs, the more particular power is governed -by the more universal, so among the angels. - - "The higher angels who preside over the lower have more universal - knowledge. It is likewise clear that the _virtus_ of a body is more - particular than the _virtus_ of a spiritual substance; for every - corporeal form is form particularized (_individuata_) through matter, - and limited to the here and now. But immaterial forms are - unconditioned and intelligible. And as the lower angels, who have - forms less universal, are ruled by the higher angels, so all corporeal - things are ruled by angels. And this is maintained not only by the - holy Doctors, but by all philosophers who have recognized incorporeal - substances." - -Next Thomas considers the action of angels upon men, and shows that men -may have their minds illumined by the lower orders of angels, who present -to men _intelligibilem veritatem sub similitudinibus sensibilium_. God -sends the angels to minister to corporeal creatures; in which mission -their acts proceed from God as a cause (_principio_). They are His -instruments. They are sent as custodians of men, to guide and move them to -good. "To every man an angel is appointed for his guard: of which the -reason is, that the guardianship (_custodia_) of the angels is an -execution of divine providence in regard to men." Every man, while as -_viator_ he walks life's _via non tuta_, has his guardian angel. And the -archangels have care of multitudes of men (Qu. cxiii.). - -Thus Thomas's, or rather, say the Christian doctrine as to angels, becomes -a corollary necessary to Christian theism, and true at least symbolically. -But--and this is the last point as to these ministering spirits--do the -angels who love without passion, grieve and suffer when those over whom -they minister are lost? - - "Angels grieve neither over the sins nor the punishment of men. For, - as says Augustine, sadness and grief arise only from what contravenes - the will. But nothing happens in the world that is contrary to the - will of the angels and other blessed ones. For their will is entirely - fixed (_totaliter inhaeret_) in the order of the divine righteousness - (_Justitiae_); and nothing takes place in the world, save what takes - place and is permitted by the same. And so, in brief, nothing takes - place in the world contrary to the will of the blessed" (Qu. cxiii. - Art. 7). - -We come to man. He has will, and free will or choice, as the angels have. -Will is part of the intellectual nature: it is as the _intellectivus -appetitus_. But man differs from the angels in possessing appetites which -belong to his sense-nature and do not perceive the good in its common -aspects; because sense does not apprehend the universal, but only the -particular.[608] Sometimes Thomas speaks of _amor_ as including every form -of desire, intellectual or pertaining to the world of sense. "The first -movement of will and of any appetitive faculty (_virtus_) is amor."[609] -So in this most general signification _amor_ "is something belonging to -appetite; for the object of both is the good." - - "The first effect of the desirable (_appetibilis_) upon the - _appetitus_, is called _amor_; thence follows _desiderium_, or the - movement toward the desirable; and at last the _quies_ which is - _gaudium_. Since then _amor_ consists in an effect upon the - _appetitus_, it is evidently _passio_; most properly speaking when it - relates to the yearning element (_concupiscibile_), but less properly - when it relates to will" (_Pars prima_, Qu. xxvi. Art. 2). - -Further distinguishing definitions are now in order: - - "Four names are applied to what pertains to the same: _amor_, - _dilectio_, _caritas_, _et amicitia_. Of the three first, _amor_ has - the broadest meaning. For all _dilectio_ or _caritas_ is _amor_; but - not conversely. _Dilectio_ adds to _amor_ a precedent choice - (_electionem praecedentem_) as its name indicates. Hence _dilectio_ is - not in the concupiscent nature, but in the will, and therefore in the - rational nature. _Caritas_ adds to _amor_ a certain _perfectionem - amoris_, inasmuch as what is loved, is esteemed as very precious, as - the name shows" (_Ibid._ Art. 3). - -Moreover, _amor_ may be divided into _amor amicitiae_, whereby we wish -good to the _amicus_, and _amor concupiscentiae_, whereby properly we -desire a good to ourselves. - -The Good is the object and, in that sense, the cause, of _amor_ (Qu. -xxvii.). - - "But love requires a cognition of the good which is loved. Therefore - the Philosopher says, that bodily sight is the cause of _amoris - sensitivi_. Likewise contemplation of spiritual beauty or goodness is - the cause of _amoris spiritualis_. Thus, therefore, cognition is the - cause of love, inasmuch as the good cannot be loved unless known." - -From this broad conception of _amor_ the argument rises to _amor_ in its -purest phases, which correspond to the highest modes of knowledge man is -capable of. They are considered in their nature, in their causes, and -effects. It is evident whither we are travelling in this matter. - - "Love (_amor_) may be perfect or imperfect. Perfect love is that by - which some one is loved for himself, as a man loves a friend. - Imperfect love is that by which some one loves a thing, not for - itself, but in order that that good may come to him, as a man loves - the thing he desires. The first love pertains to _caritas_ which - cleaves to God (_inhaeret Deo_) for Himself (_secundum - seipsum_)."[610] - -_Caritas_ is one of the theological virtues, and as such Thomas treats it. -To it corresponds the "gift" of _sapientia_, likewise a virtue bestowed by -God, but more particularly regarded as the "gift" of the Holy Spirit. -_Caritas_ is set not in the _appetitus sensitivus_, but in the will. Yet -as it exceeds our natural faculties, "it is not in us by nature, nor -acquired through our natural powers; but through the infusion of the Holy -Spirit, who is the _amor Patris et Filii_." He infuses _caritas_ according -to His will; and it will increase as we draw near to God; nor is there any -bound to its augmentation. May _caritas_ be perfect in this life? In one -sense it never can be perfect, because no creature ever can love God -according to His infinite lovableness. - - "But on the part of him who wills to love (_ex parte diligentis_), - _caritas_ is perfect when he loves as much as he is able. Which may be - taken in three ways. In one way, as the whole heart of man is always - borne toward God; and this is the perfection of the love of home - (_caritas patriae_), unattainable here, where because of this life's - infirmities it is impossible always actually to think upon God, and be - drawn toward Him by voluntary love (_dilectione_). In another way, as - a man may strive to keep himself free for God and things divine, - laying other matters aside, save as life's need requires: and that is - the perfection of _caritas_, possible in this life, yet not for all - who have _caritas_. And the third way, when any one habitually sets - his heart on God, so that he thinks and wills nothing that is contrary - to the divine love: this perfection is common to all who have - _caritas_."[611] - -The _caritas_ with which we love God, extends to our neighbours, and even -to our enemies, for God's sake; also to ourselves, including our bodies; -it embraces sinners, but not their sinfulness. It embraces the angels. -There is order and grade in _caritas_, according to its relationship to -God, the source of beatitude and voluntary love (_dilectionis_). God is to -be loved _ex caritate_ above all; for He is loved as the cause of -beatitude, while our neighbour is loved as a participant with us in the -beatitude from God. We should love God more than ourselves; because -beatitude is in God as in the common and fontal source of all things that -participate in beatitude. - - "But, after God, man should love himself, in so far as he is spirit - (_secundum naturam spiritualem_), more than any one else. This is - plain from the very reason of loving. God is loved as the principle of - good, on which the _dilectio caritatis_ is based. Man loves himself - _ex caritate_ for the reason that he is a participator in that good. - He loves his neighbour because of his association (_societas_) in that - good.... Participation in the divine good is a stronger reason for - loving, than association in this participation. Therefore, man _ex - caritate_ should love himself more than his neighbour; and the mark - (_signum_) of this is, that man should not commit any sin barring his - participation in this beatitude, in order to free his neighbour from - sin.... But one should love his neighbour's salvation more than his - own _body_."[612] - -We may love some of our neighbours more than others; for those bound to us -by natural ties and proximity can be loved more and in more actual ways. -The order and grades of love will endure when our natures are perfected in -glory. - -Love (_caritas_) is the supreme theological virtue. It comes to us in this -life through grace; it can be perfected only when grace is consummated in -glory. Likewise the highest knowledge possible in this life comes through -grace, to be perfected in glory. All is from God, and that which, of all -the rest, seems most freely given is the divine influence disposing the -intelligence and will toward good, and illuminating these best God-given -faculties. This, as _par excellence_, through the exceeding bounty of its -free bestowal, is called _gratia_ (grace). It is a certain habitual -disposition of the soul; it is not the same as _virtus_, but a divinely -implanted disposition, in which the virtues must be rooted; it is the -imparted similitude of the divine nature, and perfects the nature of the -soul, so far as that has part in likeness to the divine: it is the medial -state between nature and that further consummation of the grace-illumined -nature, which is glory; and so it is the beginning, the _inchoatio_, of -our glorified beatitude. Clearly, grace is no part of our inborn nature, -and does not belong to our natural faculties. It is a divinely bestowed -increment, directing our natural faculties toward God and uplifting them -to higher capacities of knowing and loving. - -To follow Thomas's exposition of grace a little more closely:[613] man, -through his natural powers, may know truth, but not the highest; and -without grace, our fallen nature cannot will all the good belonging to it -(_connaturale_), nor love God above all else, nor merit eternal life. -"Grace is something supernatural in man coming from God." It - - "is not the same as virtue; and its subject (_i.e._ its possessor, - that in which it is set) cannot be a faculty (_potentia_) of the soul; - for the soul's faculties, as perfected, are conceived to be virtues. - Grace, which is prior to virtue, is set, not in the faculties, but in - the essence of the soul. Thus, as through his faculty of knowing - (_potentiam intellectivam_), man shares the divine knowledge by the - virtue of faith, and through the faculty of will shares the divine - love by the virtue of _caritas_, so by means of a certain similitude - he shares in the divine nature through some regeneration or - recreation" (_Pars_ I. ii., Qu. cx. Art. 4). - -Grace may be conceived either as "divine aid, moving us to willing and -doing right, or as a formative and abiding (_habituale_) gift, divinely -placed in us" (Qu. cxi. Art. 2). "The gift of grace exceeds the power of -any created nature; and is nothing else than a sharing (_participatio_) of -the divine nature" (Qu. cxii. Art. 1). - -So it is clear that without grace man cannot rise to the highest knowledge -and the purest love of which he is capable in this life; far less can he -reach that final and perfected blessedness which is expected hereafter. -For this he must possess the virtue of Faith, which comes not without -grace. - - "The perfection of the rational creature consists not only in that - which may be his, in accordance with his nature; but also in that - which may come to him from some supernatural sharing in the divine - goodness. The final beatitude of man consists in some supernatural - vision of God. Man can attain to that only through some mode of - learning from God the Teacher, and he must believe God as a disciple - believes his master" (_Pars_ II. ii., Qu. ii. Art. 3). - -Within the province of the Christian Faith "it is necessary that man -should accept _per modum fidei_ not only what is above reason, but also -what may be known through reason." (Art. 4). He must believe explicitly -the _prima credibilia_, that is to say, the Articles of Faith; it is -enough if he believes other _credibilia_ implicitly, by holding his mind -prepared to accept whatever Scripture teaches (Art. 5). - - "To believe is an act of the intellect (_actus intellectus_) as moved - by will to assenting. It proceeds from the will and from the - intellect.... Yet it is the immediate act of the intellect, and - therefore faith is in the intellect as in a subject [_i.e._ - possessor]" (Qu. iv. Art. 2). - -And Thomas, having shown the function of will in any act of faith, passes -on by the same path to connect _fides_ with _caritas_: - - "Voluntary acts take their _species_ from the end which is the object - of volition. That from which anything receives its species, occupies - the place held by _form_ in material things. Hence, as it were, the - _form_ of any voluntary act is the end to which it is directed - (_ordinatur_). Manifestly, an act of faith is directed to the object - willed (which is the good) as to an end. But good which is the end of - faith, to wit, the divine good, is the proper object of _caritas_. And - so _caritas_ is called the _form_ of faith, in so far as through - _caritas_ the act of faith is perfected and given form" (Qu. iv. Art. - 3). - -Thomas makes his conclusion more precise: - - "As faith is the consummation of the intellect, that which pertains to - the intellect, pertains, _per se_, to faith. What pertains to will, - does not, _per se_, pertain to faith. The increment making the - difference between the faith which has form and faith which lacks it - (_fides formata_, _fides informis_), consists in that which pertains - to will, to wit, to _caritas_, and not in what pertains to intellect" - (Qu. iv. Art. 4). - -Only the _fides_ which is formed and completed in _caritas_ is a virtue -(Art. 5). And Thomas says concisely (Qu. vi. Art. 1) what in many ways has -been made evident before: For Faith, it is necessary that the _credibilia_ -should be propounded, and then that there should be assent to them; but -since man, in assenting to those things which are of the Faith, is lifted -above his nature, his assent must proceed from a supernatural principle -working within him, which is God moving him through grace. - -It is not hard to see why two gifts (_dona_) of the Holy Spirit should -belong to the virtue Faith, to wit, understanding and knowledge, -_intellectus et scientia_. Thomas gives the reasons in an argument germane -to his Aristotelian theory of cognition: - - "The object of the knowing faculty is _that which is_.... Many kinds - of things lie hidden within, to which the _intellectus_ of man should - penetrate. Beneath the _accidens_ the substantial nature of the thing - lies hidden; beneath words lie their meanings; beneath similes and - figures, lies the figured truth--_veritas figurata_ (for things - intelligible are, as it were, within things sensible); and in causes - lie hidden the effects, and conversely. Now, since human cognition - begins with sense, as from without, it is clear that the stronger the - light of the intellect, the further it will penetrate to the inmost - depths. But the light of our natural intellect is of finite virtue, - and may reach only to what is limited. Therefore man needs the - supernatural light, in order to penetrate to the knowledge which - through the natural light he is not able to know; and that - supernatural light given to man is called the _donum intellectus_" - (Qu. viii. Art. 1). - -This gift follows grace. Grace is more perfect than nature. It does not -abrogate, but perfects the natural faculties. Nor does it fail in those -matters in which man's natural power is competent (Qu. ix. Art. 1). So, -besides the _donum intellectus_, to Faith belongs the _donum scientiae_ -also, which brings and guides knowledge of human things (Art. 2). - -And now we shall not be surprised to find _sapientia_, the very highest -gift of the Spirit, attached to the grace-given virtue caritas. For -_caritas_ is the informing principle of Faith, and the highest virtue of -the grace-illumined will. The will, be it remembered, belongs to man's -intellectual nature; its object is the good which is known by the mind -(_bonum intellectum_). "_Sapientia_ (wisdom, right knowledge as to the -highest cause, which is God) signifies rectitude of judgment in accordance -with the _rationes divinae_," the ideas and reasons which exist in God. -Rectitude of judgment regarding things divine may arise from rational -inquiry; in which case it pertains to the _sapientia_ which is an -intellectual virtue. But it may also spring from affinity to those things -themselves; and then it is a gift of the Holy Spirit (II. ii., Qu. xlv. -Art. 2). - -Says Thomas: - - "By the name _beatitude_ is understood the final perfection of the - rational or intellectual nature. This consists for this life in such - contemplation as we may have here of the highest intelligible good, - which is God; but above this felicity is that other felicity which we - expect when we shall see God as He is" (_Pars_ I., Qu. lxii Art 1). - -But mark: the perfection of the intellectual nature does not consist -merely in knowing, narrowly taken. The right action of will is also -essential, of the will directed toward the highest good, which is God: and -this is _caritas_, of which the corresponding gift from the Spirit is -wisdom. In accord with this full consummation of human nature, comprising -the perfection of cognition and will, Thomas outlines his conception of -the _vita contemplativa_, the life of most perfect beatitude attainable on -earth: - - "The _vita contemplativa_ is theirs whose resolve is set upon the - contemplation of truth. Resolve is an act of will; because resolve is - with respect to the end, which is the object of will. Thus the _vita - contemplativa_, according to the essence of its action, is of the - intelligence; but so far as it pertains to what moves us to engage in - such action, it is of the will, which moves all the other faculties, - including the intelligence, to act. Appetitive energy (_vis - appetitiva_) moves toward contemplating something, either sensibly or - intellectually: sometimes from love of the thing seen, and sometimes - from love of the knowledge itself, which arises from contemplation. - And because of this, Gregory sets the _vita contemplativa_ in the love - of God--_in caritate Dei_--to wit, inasmuch as some one, from a - willing love (_dilectio_) of God burns to behold His beauty. And - because any one is rejoiced when he attains what he loves, the _vita - contemplativa_ is directed toward _dilectio_[614] which lies in affect - (_in affectu_); by which _amor_ also is intended" (II. ii., Qu. clxxx. - Art. 1). - -The moral virtues, continues Thomas, do not pertain _essentially_ to this -_vita_. But they may promote it, by regulating the passions and quieting -the tumult of outside affairs. In principle it is fixed upon the -contemplation of truth, which here we see but in a glass darkly; and so we -help ourselves along by contemplating the effects of the divine cause in -the world. - -Thus final beatitude, and its mortal approach in the _vita contemplativa_ -of this earth, is of the mind, both in its knowledge and its love. -Immateriality, spirituality, is with Thomas primarily intellectual. Yet -his beatitude is not limited to the knowing faculties. It embraces will -and love. The grace of God and the gifts of the Holy Spirit touch love as -well as knowledge, raising one and both to final unison of aim. Thus far -in this life, while in the life to come, these grace-uplifted qualities of -knowledge, and that choosing love (_dilectio_) which rises from knowledge -of the good, are perfected _in gloria_. - -Further than this we shall not go with Thomas, nor follow him, for -example, through his exposition of the means of salvation--the Incarnation -and the sacraments. Nor need we further mark the prodigious range of his -theology, or his metaphysics, logic, or physics. To all this many books -have been devoted. We are but seeking to realise his intellectual -interests and qualities, in such way as to bring them within the compass -of our sympathy. A more encyclopaedic and systematic presentation of his -teaching is proper for those who would trace, or perhaps attach themselves -to, particular doctrines; or would find in scholasticism, even in Thomas, -some special authoritativeness. For us these doctrines have but the -validity of all human striving after truth. Moreover, perhaps a truer view -of Thomas, the theologian and philosopher, is gained from following a few -typical forms of his teaching presented in his own exposition, than by -analyzing his thought with later solvents which he did not apply, and -presenting his matter classified as he would not have ordered it, and in -modern phrases, which have as many meanings foreign to scholasticism as -scholasticism has thoughts not to be translated into modern ways of -thinking. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI - -ROGER BACON - - -Of all mediaeval men, Thomas Aquinas achieved the most organic and -comprehensive union of the results of human reasoning and the data of -Christian theology. He may be regarded as the final exponent of -scholasticism, perfected in method, universal in scope, and still integral -in purpose. The scholastic method was soon to be impugned and the -scholastic universality broken. The premature attack upon the method came -from Roger Bacon;[615] the fatal breach in the scholastic wholeness -resulted from the constructive, as well as critical, achievements of Duns -Scotus and Occam. - -Bacon is a perplexing personality. With other mediaeval thinkers one -quickly feels the point of view from which to regard them. Not so with -this most disparate genius of the Middle Ages. Reading his rugged -statements, and trying to form a coherent thought of him, we are puzzled -at the contradictions of his mind. One may not say that he was not of his -time. Every man is of his time, and cannot raise himself very far out of -the mass of knowledge and opinion furnished by it, any more than a swimmer -can lift himself out of the water that sustains him. Yet personal temper -and inclination may aline a man with less potent tendencies, which are -obscured and hampered by the dominant intellectual interests of the -period. Assuredly, through all the Middle Ages, there were men who noticed -such physical phenomena as bore upon their lives, even men who cared for -the dumb beginnings of what eventually might lead to natural science. But -they were not representative of their epoch's master energies; and in the -Middle Ages, as always, the man of evident and great achievement will be -one who, like Aquinas, stands upon the whole attainment of his age. Roger -Bacon, on the contrary, was as one about whose loins the currents of his -time drag and pull; they did not aid him, and yet he could not extricate -himself. It was his intellectual misfortune that he was held by his time -so fatally, so fatally, at least, for the proper doing of the work which -was to be his contribution to human enlightenment, a contribution well -ignored while he lived, and for long afterward. - -Bacon accepted the dominant mediaeval convictions: the entire truth of -Scripture; the absolute validity of the revealed religion, with its -dogmatic formulation; also (to his detriment) the universally prevailing -view that the end of all the sciences is to serve their queen, theology. -Yet he hated the ways of mediaeval natural selection and survival of the -mediaeval fittest, and the methods by which Albert or Thomas or Vincent of -Beauvais were at last presenting the sum of mediaeval knowledge and -conviction. Well might he detest those ways and methods, seeing that he -was Roger Bacon, one impelled by his genius to critical study, to -observation and experiment. He was impassioned for linguistics, for -mathematics, for astronomy, optics, chemistry, and for an experimental -science which should confirm the contents of all these, and also enlarge -the scope of human ingenuity. Yet he was held fast, and his thinking was -confused, by what he took from his time. Especially he was obsessed by the -idea that philosophy, including every branch of knowledge, must serve -theology, and even in that service find its justification. But what has -chemistry to do with theology? What has mathematics? And what has the -physical experimental method? By maintaining the utility of these for -theology, Bacon saved his mediaeval orthodoxy, and it may be, his skin -from the fire. But it wrecked the working of his genius. His writings -remain, such of them as are known, astounding in their originality and -insight, and almost as remarkable for their inconsistencies; they are -marked by a confusion of method and a distortion of purpose, which sprang -from the contradictions between Bacon's genius and the current views which -he adopted. - -The career of Bacon was an intellectual tragedy, conforming to the old -principles of tragic art: that the hero's character shall be large and -noble, but not flawless, inasmuch as the fatal consummation must issue -from character, and not happen through chance. He died an old man, as in -his youth, so in his age, a devotee of tangible knowledge. His pursuit of -a knowledge which was not altogether learning had been obstructed by the -Order of which he was an unhappy and rebellious member; quite as fatally -his achievement was deformed from within by the principles which he -accepted from his time. But he was responsible for his acceptance of -current opinions; and as his views roused the distrust of his brother -Friars, his intractable temper drew their hostility (of which we know very -little) on his head. Persuasiveness and tact were needed by one who would -impress such novel views as his upon his fellows, or, in the thirteenth -century, escape persecution for their divulgence. Bacon attacked dead and -living worthies, tactlessly, fatuously, and unfairly. Of his life scarcely -anything is known, save from his allusions to himself and others; and -these are insufficient for the construction of even a slight consecutive -narrative. Born; studied at Oxford; went to Paris, studied, experimented; -is at Oxford again, and a Franciscan; studies, teaches, becomes suspect to -his Order, is sent back to Paris, kept under surveillance, receives a -letter from the pope, writes, writes, writes,--his three best-known works; -is again in trouble, confined for many years, released, and dead, so very -dead, body and fame alike, until partly unearthed after five centuries. - -Inference and construction may fill out this sombre outline. England was -the land of Bacon's birth, and Ilchester is said to have been the natal -spot. The approximate date may be guessed at from his reference to himself -as _senex_ in 1267, and his remark that he had then been studying forty -years. His family seems to have been wealthy. Besides the letter of Pope -Clement, hereafter to be quoted, there is one contemporary reference to -him. Mathew Paris has a story of a certain _clericus de curia, scilicet -Rogerus Bacum_, speaking up with bold wit to King Henry III. at Oxford in -1233. Bacon when a young man studied there under Robert Grosseteste and -Adam of Marsh. He frequently refers to both, and always with respect. His -chief enthusiasm is for the former. For years this admirable man was -chancellor of Oxford; until made bishop of Lincoln in 1235. Although never -a Franciscan, he was the Order's devoted friend, and lectured in its house -at Oxford. Grosseteste founded the study of Greek at Oxford, and collected -treatises upon Greek grammar. Bacon, following him, wrote a Greek grammar. -Grosseteste, before Bacon, devoted himself to physics and mathematics, and -all that these many-branched sciences might include. Besides a taste for -these studies Bacon may have had from him the idea that they were useful -for theology. "No one," says Bacon, "knew the sciences save Lord Robert, -Bishop of Lincoln, from his length of life and experience, and -studiousness and industry, and because he knew mathematics and optics, and -was able to know all things; and he knew enough of the languages to -understand the saints and philosophers of antiquity; but not enough to -translate them, unless towards the end of his life when he invited Greeks, -and had books of Greek grammar gathered from Greece and elsewhere."[616] -There is evidence that others at Oxford, besides Grosseteste, were -interested in the study of Greek and natural science. - -From Oxford Bacon went to Paris, where apparently he remained for a number -of years; he was made a doctor there, and afterwards became a Franciscan. -Since a monk could own nothing, one may perhaps infer that Bacon did not -join the Order until after the lapse of certain twenty years of scientific -research, in which he spent much money, as he says in 1267, in an -often-quoted passage of the _Opus tertium_: - - "For now I have laboured from my youth in the sciences and languages, - and for the furtherance of study, getting together much that is - useful. I sought the friendship of all wise men among the Latins, and - caused youth to be instructed in languages, and geometric figures, in - numbers and tables and instruments, and many needful matters. I - examined everything useful to the purpose, and I know how to proceed, - and with what means, and what are the impediments: but I cannot go on - for lack of the funds which are needed. Through the twenty years in - which I laboured specially in the study of wisdom, careless of the - crowd's opinion, I spent more than two thousand pounds in these - pursuits on occult books (_libros secretos_) and various experiments, - and languages and instruments, and tables and other things."[617] - -After his first stay at Paris Bacon returned to Oxford. There he doubtless -continued his researches, and divulged them, or taught in some way. For he -roused the suspicions of his Order, and in the course of time was sent or -conducted back to Paris, where constraint seems to have been put upon his -actions and utterances. Like the first, this second, possibly enforced, -stay was a long one; he speaks of himself in the first chapter of the -_Opus tertium_ as "for ten years an exile." Yet here as always, one is not -quite certain how literally to take Bacon's personal statements, either -touching himself or others. - -A short period of elation was at hand. He had evidently been forbidden to -write, or spread his ideas; he had been disciplined at times with a diet -of bread and water. All this had failed to sweeten his temper, or conform -his mind to current views. In 1265, an open-minded man who had been a -jurist, a warrior, and the counsellor of a king, before becoming an -ecclesiastic, was made Pope Clement IV. While living in Paris he had been -interested in Bacon's work. Soon after the papal election our -sore-bestead philosopher managed to communicate with him, as appears by -the pope's reply, written from Viterbo, in July 1266: - - "To our beloved son, Brother Roger, called Bacon, of the Order of - Brothers Minorites. We have received with pleasure the letter of thy - devotion; and we have well considered what our beloved son called - Bonecor, Knight, has by word of mouth set forth to us, with fidelity - and prudence. So then, that we may understand more clearly what thou - purposest, it is our will, and we command thee by our Apostolic - mandate that, notwithstanding the prohibition of any prelate, or any - constitution of thy Order, thou sendest to us speedily in good script - that work which, while we held a minor office, we requested thee to - communicate to our beloved son Raymond, of Laudunum. Also, we command - thee to set forth in a letter what remedies thou deemest should be - applied to those matters which thou didst recently speak of as fraught - with such peril. Do this as secretly as possible without delay."[618] - -Poor Bacon! The pope's letter roused him to ecstasy, then put him in a -quandary, and elicited elaborate apologies, and the flood of persuasive -exposition which he poured forth with tremulous haste in the eighteen -months following. Delight at being solicited by the head of Christendom -breaks out in hyperbole, not to be wondered at: he is uplifted and cast -prone; that his littleness and multiple ignorance, his tongue-tied mouth -and rasping pen, and himself unlistened to by all men, a buried man -delivered to oblivion, should be called on by the pope's wisdom for -wisdom's writings (_sapientales scripturas_)! - - "The Saviour's vicar, the ruler of the orb, has deigned to solicit me, - who am scarcely to be numbered among the particles of the - world--_inter partes universae_! Yet, while my weakness is oppressed - with the glory of this mandate, I am raised above my own powers; I - feel a fervour of spirit; I rise up in strength. And indeed I ought to - overflow with gratitude since your beatitude commands what I have - desired, what I have worked out with sweat, and gleaned through great - expenditures."[619] - -The word "expenditures" touches one horn of Bacon's dilemma. He is a -Franciscan; therefore penniless; and, besides that, apparently under the -restraining ban of his own Order. The pope has enjoined secrecy; therefore -Bacon cannot set up the papal mandate against the probable interference of -his own superiors. The pope has sent no funds; sitting _in culmine mundi_ -he was too busy with high affairs to think of that.[620] And now comes the -chief matter for Bacon's apologies: his Beatitude misapprehends, has been -misinformed: the work is not yet written; it is still to be composed. - -In spite of these obstacles the friendless but resourceful philosopher -somehow obtained opportunity to write, and the means needed for the fair -copy. And then in those great eighteen, or perhaps but fifteen, months, -what a flood of enlightenment, of reforming criticism, of plans of study -and methods of investigation, of examples and sketches of the matter to be -prepared or discovered, is poured forth. Four works we know of,[621] and -they may have made the greater part of all that Bacon ever actually wrote. -With variations of emphasis, of abridgement and elaboration, the four have -the one purpose to convince the pope of the enormous value of Bacon's -scheme of useful and saving knowledge. To a great extent they set forth -the same matters; indeed the _Opus tertium_ was intended to convey the -substance of the _Opus majus_, should that fail to reach the pope. So -there is much repetition and some disorder in these eager, hurried works, -defects which emphasise the dramatic situation of the impetuous genius -whose pent-up utterance was loosed at last. The _Opus minus_ and the -_Vatican Fragment_ are as from a man overpowered by the eagerness to say -everything at once, lest the night close in before he have chance of -speech. And when the _Opus majus_ was at last sent forth, accompanied by -the _Opus minus_, as a battleship by a light armed cruiser, the _Opus -tertium_ was despatched after them, filled with the same militant -exposition, for fear the former two should perish _en voyage_. - -Did they ever reach the pope? We may presume so. Did he read any one of -them? Here there is no information. Popes were the busiest men in Europe, -and death was so apt to cut short their industry. Clement died the next -year, and so far as known, no syllable of acknowledgement from him ever -reached the feverishly expectant philosopher. - -A few words will tell the rest. In 1271, apparently, Bacon wrote his -_Compendium studii philosophiae_, taking the occasion to denounce the -corruptions of Church and society in unmeasured terms. He rarely measured -his vituperation! His life was setting on toward its long last trial. In -1277, Jerome of Ascoli, the General of the Franciscan Order, held a -Chapter at Paris, and Bacon was condemned to imprisonment (_carceri -condempnatus_) because of his teachings, which contained _aliquas -novitates suspectas_.[622] Jerome became Pope Nicholas IV. At a Chapter of -the Order held in Paris in 1292, just after his death, certain prisoners -condemned in 1277, were set free. Roger Bacon probably was among the -number. If so, it was in the year of his liberation that he wrote a tract -entitled _Compendium theologiae_; for that was written in 1292. This is -the last we hear of him. But as he must now have been hard on to eighty, -probably he did not live much longer. - -There seems to have been nothing exceptional in Bacon's attitude toward -Scripture and the doctrines of the Church. He deemed, with other mediaeval -men, that Scripture held, at least implicitly, the sum of knowledge useful -or indeed possible for men. True, neither the Old Testament nor the New -treats of grammar, or physics, or of minerals, or plants, or animals. -Nevertheless, the statements in these revealed writings are made with -complete knowledge of every topic or thing considered or referred -to--bird, beast, and plant, the courses of the stars, the earth and its -waters, yea, the arts of song or agriculture, and the principles of every -science. Conversely (and here Bacon even gave fresh emphasis and novel -pointings to the current view) all knowledge whatsoever, every art and -science, is needed for the full understanding of Scripture, _sacra -doctrina_, in a word, theology. This opinion may hold large truth; but -Bacon's advocacy of it sometimes affects us as a _reductio ad absurdum_, -especially when he is proceeding on the assumption that the patriarchs and -prophets had knowledge of all sciences, including astrology and the -connection between the courses of the stars and the truth of Christianity. - -There was likewise nothing startling in Bacon's view of the Fathers, and -their knowledge and authoritativeness. Thomas did not regard them as -inspired. Neither did Bacon; he respects them, yet discerns limitations to -their knowledge; by reason of their circumstances they may have neglected -certain of the sciences; but this is no reason why we should.[623] - -As for the ancient philosophers, Bacon holds to their partial inspiration. -"God illuminated their minds to desire and perceive the truths of -philosophy. He even disclosed the truth to them."[624] They received their -knowledge from God, indirectly as it were, through the prophets, to whom -God revealed it directly. More than once and with every detail of baseless -tradition, he sets forth the common view that the Greek philosophers -studied the prophets, and drew their wisdom from that source.[625] But -their knowledge was not complete; and it behoves us to know much that is -not in Aristotle.[626] - - "The study of wisdom may always increase in this life, because nothing - is perfect in human discoveries. Therefore, we later men ought to - supplement the defects of the ancients, since we have entered into - their labours, through which, unless we are asses, we may be incited - to improve upon them. It is most wretched always to be using what has - been attained, and never reach further for one's self."[627] - -It may be that Bacon was suspected of raising the philosophers too near -the Christian level; and perhaps his argument that their knowledge had -come from the prophets may have seemed a vain excuse. Says he, for -example: - - "There was a great book of Aristotle upon civil science,[628] well - agreeing with the Christian law; for the law of Aristotle has precepts - like the Christian law, although much is added in the latter excelling - all human science. The Christian law takes whatever is worthy in the - civil philosophical law. For God gave the philosophers all truth, as - the saints, and especially Augustine, declare.... And what noble - thoughts have they expressed upon God, the blessed Trinity, the - Incarnation, Christ, the blessed Virgin, and the angels."[629] - -Possibly one is here reminded of Abaelard, and his thought of Christianity -as _reformatio legis naturalis_. Yet Christ had said, He came not to -destroy, but to fulfil; and the chief Christian theologians had followed -Augustine in "despoiling the Egyptians" as he phrased it; the very process -which in fact was making the authority of Aristotle supreme in Bacon's -time. So there was little that was peculiar or suspicious in Bacon's -admiration of the philosophers. - -The trouble with Bacon becomes clearer as we turn to his views upon the -state of knowledge in his time, and the methods of contemporary doctors in -rendering it worse, rather than better. These doctors were largely engaged -upon _sacra doctrina_; they were primarily theologians and expounders of -the truth of revelation. Bacon's criticism of their methods might -disparage that to which those methods were applied. His caustic -enumeration of the four everlasting causes of error, and the seven vices -infecting the study of theology, will show reason enough why his -error-stricken and infected contemporaries wished to close his mouth. The -anxiousness of some might sour to enmity under the acerbity of his attack; -nor would their hearts be softened by Bacon's boasting that these various -doctors, of course including Albert, could not write in ten years what he -is sending to the pope.[630] Bacon declares that there is at Paris a great -man (was it Albert? was it Thomas?), who is set up as an authority in the -schools, like Aristotle or Averroes; and his works display merely -"infinite puerile vanity," "ineffable falsity," superfluous verbiage, and -the omission of the most needful parts of philosophy.[631] Bacon is not -content with abusing members of the rival Dominican Order; but includes in -his contempt the venerable Alexander of Hales, the defunct light of the -Franciscans. "_Nullum ordinem excludo_," cries he, in his sweeping -denunciation of his epoch's rampant sins. As for the seculars, why, they -can only lecture by stealing the copy-books of the "boys" in the -"aforesaid Orders."[632] "Never," says Bacon in the _Compendium studii_ -from which the last phrases are taken, "has there been such a show of -wisdom, nor such prosecution of study in so many faculties through so many -regions as in the last forty years. Doctors are spread everywhere, -especially in theology, in every city, castle, and burg, chiefly through -the two student Orders. Yet there was never so great ignorance and so much -error--as shall appear from this writing."[633] - -Bacon never loses a chance of stating the four causes of the error and -ignorance about him. These causes preyed upon his mind--he would have said -they preyed upon the age. They are elaborately expounded in pars i. of the -_Opus majus_:[634] - - "There are four principal stumbling blocks (_offendicula_) to - comprehending truth, which hinder well-nigh every one: the example of - frail and unworthy authority, long-established custom, the sense of - the ignorant crowd (_vulgi sensus imperiti_), and the hiding of one's - own ignorance under the pretence of wisdom. In these, every man is - involved and every state beset. For in every act of life, or business, - or study, these three worst arguments are used for the same - conclusion: this was the way of our ancestors, this is the custom, - this is the common view: therefore should be held. But the opposite - of this conclusion follows much better from the premises, as I will - prove through authority, experience, and reason. If these three are - sometimes refuted by the glorious power of reason, the fourth is - always ready, as a gloss for foolishness; so that, though a man know - nothing of any value, he will impudently magnify it, and thus, - soothing his wretched folly, defeat truth. From these deadly pests - come all the evils of the human race; for the noblest and most useful - documents of wisdom are ignored, and the secrets of the arts and - sciences. Worse than this, men blinded by the darkness of these four - do not see their ignorance, but take every care to palliate that for - which they do not find the remedy; and what is the worst, when they - are in the densest shades of error, they deem themselves in the full - light of truth."[635] - -Therefore they think the true the false, and spend their time and money -vainly, says Bacon with many strainings of phrase. - -"There is no remedy," continues Bacon, "against the first three causes of -error save as with all our strength we set the sound authors above the -weak ones, reason above custom, and the opinions of the wise above the -humours of the crowd; and do not trust in the triple argument: this has -precedent, this is customary, this is the common view." But the fourth -cause of error is the worst of all. "For this is a lone and savage beast, -which devours and destroys all reason,--this desire of seeming wise, with -which every man is born." Bacon arraigns this cause of evil, through -numerous witnesses, sacred and profane. It has two sides: display of -pretended knowledge, and excusing of ignorance. Infinite are the verities -of God and the creation: let no one boast of knowledge. It is not for man -to glory in his wisdom; faith goes beyond man's knowledge; and still much -is unrevealed. In forty years we learn no more than could be taught youth -in one. I have profited more from simple men "than from all my famous -doctors." - -Bacon's four universal causes of ignorance indicate his general attitude. -More specific criticisms upon the academic methods of his time are -contained in his _septem peccata studii principalis quod est theologiae_. -This is given in the _Opus minus_.[636] Bacon, it will be remembered, says -again and again that all sciences must serve theology, and find their -value from that service: the science of theology includes every science, -and should use each as a handmaid for its own ends. Accordingly, when -Bacon speaks of the seven vices of the _studium principale quod est -theologia_, we may expect him to point out vicious methods touching all -branches of study, yet with an eye to their common service of their -mistress. - - "Seven are the vices of the chief study which is theology; the first - is that philosophy in practice dominates theology. But it ought not to - dominate in any province beyond itself, and surely not the science of - God, which leads to eternal life.... The greater part of all the - quaestiones in a _Summa theologiae_ is pure philosophy, with arguments - and solutions; and there are infinite quaestiones concerning the - heavens, and concerning matter and being, and concerning species and - the similitudes of things, and concerning cognition through such; also - concerning eternity and time, and how the soul is in the body, and how - angels move locally, and how they are in a place, and an infinitude of - like matters which are determined in the books of the philosophers. To - investigate these difficulties does not belong to theologians, - according to the main intent and subject of their work. They ought - briefly to recite these truths as they find them determined in - philosophy. Moreover, the other matter of the quaestiones which - concerns what is proper to theology, as concerning the Blessed - Trinity, the Incarnation, the Sacraments, is discussed principally - through the authorities, arguments, and distinctions of philosophy." - -Evidently, this first vice of theological study infected the method of -Albert and Thomas, and of practically all other theologians! Its -correction might call for a complete reversal of method. But the reversal -desired by Bacon would scarcely have led back to Gospel simplicity, as may -be seen from what follows. - - "The second vice is that the best sciences, which are those most - clearly pertinent to theology, are not used by theologians. I refer to - the grammar of the foreign tongues from which all theology comes. Of - even more value are mathematics, optics, moral science, experimental - science, and alchemy. But the cheap sciences (_scientiae viles_) are - used by theologians, like Latin grammar, logic, natural philosophy in - its baser part, and a certain side of metaphysics. In these there is - neither the good of the soul, nor the good of the body, nor the good - things of fortune. But moral philosophy draws out the good of the - soul, as far as philosophy may. Alchemy is experimental and, with - mathematics and optics, promotes the good of the body and of - fortune.... While the grammar of other tongues gives theology and - moral philosophy to the Latins.... Oh! what madness is it to neglect - sciences so useful for theology, and be sunk in those which are - impertinent! - - "The third vice is that the theologians are ignorant of those four - sciences which they use; and therefore accept a mass of false and - futile propositions, taking the doubtful for certain, the obscure for - evident; they suffer alike from superfluity and the lack of what is - necessary, and so stain theology with infinite vices which proceed - from sheer ignorance." For they are ignorant of Greek and Hebrew and - Arabic, and therefore ignorant of all the sciences contained in these - tongues; and they have relied on Alexander of Hales and others as - ignorant as themselves. The fourth vice is that they study and lecture - on the _Sentences_ of the Lombard, instead of the text of Scripture; - and the lecturers on the _Sentences_ are preferred in honour, while - any one who would lecture on Scripture has to beg for a room and hour - to be set him. - - "The fifth fault is greater than all the preceding. The text of - Scripture is horribly corrupt in the Vulgate copy at Paris." - -Bacon goes at some length into the errors of the Vulgate, and gives a good -account of the various Latin versions of the Bible. Next, the "_sextum -peccatum_ is far graver than all, and may be divided into two _peccata -maxima_: one is that through these errors the literal sense of the Vulgate -has infinite falsities and intolerable uncertainties, so that the truth -cannot be known. From this follows the other _peccatum_, that the -spiritual sense is infected with the same doubt and error." These errors, -first in the literal meaning, and thence in the spiritual or allegorical -significance, spring from ignorance of the original tongues, and from -ignorance of the birds and beasts and objects of all sorts spoken of in -the Bible. "By far the greater cause of error, both in the literal and -spiritual meaning, rises from ignorance of things in Scripture. For the -literal sense is in the natures and properties of things, in order that -the spiritual meaning may be elicited through convenient adaptations and -congruent similitudes." Bacon cites Augustine to show that we cannot -understand the precept, _Estote prudentes sicut serpentes_, unless we know -that it is the serpent's habit to expose his body in defence of his head, -as the Christian should expose all things for the sake of his head, which -is Christ. Alack! is it for such ends as these that Bacon would have a -closer scholarship fostered, and natural science prosecuted? The text of -the _Opus minus_ is broken at this point, and one cannot say whether Bacon -had still a seventh _peccatum_ to allege, or whether the series ended with -the second of the vices into which he divided the sixth. - -Bacon's strictures upon the errors of his time were connected with his -labours to remedy them, and win a firmer knowledge than dialectic could -supply. To this end he advocated the study of the ancient languages, which -he held to be "the first door of wisdom, and especially for the Latins, -who have not the text, either of theology or philosophy, except from -foreign languages."[637] His own knowledge of Greek was sufficient to -enable him to read passages in that tongue, and to compose a Greek -grammar.[638] But he shows no interest in the classical Greek literature, -nor is there evidence of his having studied any important Greek -philosopher in the original. He was likewise zealous for the study of -Hebrew, Chaldee, and Arabic, the other foreign tongues which held the -learning so inadequately represented by Latin versions. He spoke with some -exaggeration of the demerits of the existing translations;[639] but he -recognised the arduousness of the translator's task, from diversity of -idiom and the difficulty of finding an equivalent in Latin for the -statements, for example, in the Greek. The Latin vocabulary often proved -inadequate; and words had to be taken bodily from the original tongue. -Likewise he saw, and so had others, though none had declared it so -clearly, that the translator should not only be master of the two -languages, but have knowledge of the subject treated by the work to be -translated.[640] - -After the languages, Bacon urged the pursuit of the sciences, which he -conceived to be interdependent and corroborative; the conclusions of each -of them susceptible of proof by the methods and data of the others. - - "Next to languages," says Bacon in chapter xxix. of the _Opus - tertium_, "I hold mathematics necessary in the second place, to the - end that we may know what may be known. It is not planted in us by - nature, yet is closest to inborn knowledge, of all the sciences which - we know through discovery and learning (_inventionem et doctrinam_). - For its study is easier than all other sciences, and boys learn its - branches readily. Besides, the laity can make diagrams, and calculate, - and sing, and use musical instruments. All these are the _opera_ of - mathematics." - -Thus, with antique and mediaeval looseness, Bacon conceived this science. -He devotes to it the long _Pars quarta_ of the _Opus majus_: saying at the -beginning that of-- - - "the four great sciences the gate and key is mathematics, which the - saints found out (_invenerunt_) from the beginning of the world, and - used more than all the other sciences. Its neglect for the past thirty - or forty years has ruined the studies (_studium_) of the Latins. For - whoso is ignorant of it cannot know the other sciences, nor the things - of this world. But knowledge of this science prepares the mind and - lifts it to the tested cognition (_certificatam cognitionem_) of all - things." - -Bacon adduces authorities to prove the need of mathematics for the study -of grammar and logic; he shows that its processes reach indubitable -certitude of truth; and "if in other sciences we would reach certitude -free from doubt, and truth without error, we must set the foundations of -cognition in mathematics."[641] He points out its obvious necessity in the -study of the heavens, and in everything pertaining to speculative and -practical _astrologia_; also for the study of physics and optics. Thus his -interest lay chiefly in its application. As human science is nought unless -it may be applied to things divine, mathematics must find its supreme -usefulness in its application to the matters of theology. It should aid us -in ascertaining the position of paradise and hell, and promote our -knowledge of Scriptural geography, and more especially, sacred chronology. -Next it affords us knowledge of the exact forms of things mentioned in -Scripture, like the ark, the tabernacle, and the temple, so that from an -accurate ascertainment of the literal sense, the true spiritual meaning -may be deduced. It should not be confused with its evil namesake -magic,[642] yet the true science is useful in determining the influence of -the stars on the fortunes of states. Moreover, mathematics, through -astrology, is of great importance in the certification of the faith, -strengthening it against the sect of Antichrist;[643] then in the -correction of the Church's calendar; and finally, as all things and -regions of the earth are affected by the heavens, astrology and -mathematics are pertinent to a consideration of geography. And Bacon -concludes _Pars quarta_ with an elaborate description of the regions, -countries, and cities of the known world. - -Bacon likewise was profoundly interested in optics, the _scientia -perspectiva_, which he sets forth elaborately in _Pars quinta_ of the -_Opus majus_. Much space would be needed to discuss his theories of light -and vision, and the propagation of physical force, treated in the _De -multiplicatione specierum_. He knew all that was to be learned from Greek -and Arabic sources, and, unlike Albert, who compiled much of the same -material, he used his knowledge to build with. Bacon had a genius for -these sciences: his _Scientia perspectiva_ is no mere compilation, and no -work used by him presented either a theory of force or of vision, -containing as many adumbrations of later theorizing.[644] Yet he fails to -cast off his obsession with the "spiritual meaning" and the utility of -science for theology. He discussed the composition of Adam's body while in -a state of innocence,[645] a point that may seem no more tangible than -Thomas's reasonings upon the movements of Angels, which Bacon ridicules. -Again in his _Optics_, after an interesting discussion of refraction and -reflection, he cannot forego a consideration of the spiritual -significations of refracted rays.[646] Even his discussion of experimental -science has touches of mediaevalism, which are peculiarly dissonant in -this most original and "advanced" product of Bacon's genius, which now -must be considered more specifically. - -The speculative intellect of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries was so -widely absorbed with the matter and methods of the dominant scholasticism, -that no one is likely to think of the eminent scholastics as isolated -phenomena. Plainly they were but as the highest peaks which somewhat -overtop the other mountains, through whose aggregation and support they -were lifted to their supreme altitude. But with Bacon the danger is real -lest he seem separate and unsupported; for the influences which helped to -make him are not over-evident. Yet he did not make himself. The directing -of his attention to linguistics is sufficiently accounted for by the -influence of Grosseteste and others, who had inaugurated the study of -Greek, and perhaps Hebrew at Oxford. As for physics or optics, others also -were interested--or there would have been no translations of Greek and -Arabic treatises for him to use;[647] and in mathematics there was a -certain older contemporary, Jordanus Nemorarius (not to mention Leonardo -Fibonacci), who far overtopped him. It is safe to assume that in the -thirteenth, as in the twelfth and previous centuries, there were men who -studied the phenomena of nature. But they have left scant record. A period -is remembered by those features of its main accomplishment which are not -superseded or obliterated by the further advance of later times. Nothing -has obliterated the work of the scholastics for those who may still care -for such reasonings; and Aquinas to-day holds sway in the Roman Catholic -Church. On the other hand, the sparse footprints of the mediaeval men who -essayed the paths of natural science have long since been trodden out by -myriad feet passing far beyond them, along those ways. Yet there were -these wayfarers, who made little stir in their own time, and have long -been well forgotten. Had it not been for the letter from Pope Clement, -Bacon himself might be among them; and only his writings keep from utter -oblivion the name of an individual who, according to Bacon, carried the -practice of "experimental science" further than he could hope to do. It -may be fruitful to approach Bacon's presentation of this science, or -scientific method, through his references to this extraordinary Picard, -named Peter of Maharncuria, or Maricourt. - -In the _Opus tertium_, Bacon has been considering optics and mathematics, -and has spoken of this Peter as proficient in them; and thus he opens -chapter xiii., which is devoted to the _scientia experimentalis_: - - "But beyond these sciences is one more perfect than all, which all - serve, and which in a wonderful way certifies them all: this is called - the experimental science, which neglects arguments, since they do not - make certain, however strong they may be, unless at the same time - there is present the _experientia_ of the conclusion. Experimental - science teaches _experiri_, that is, to test, by observation or - experiment, the lofty conclusions of all sciences." This science none - but Master Peter knows. - -By following the text further, we may be able to appreciate what Bacon -will shortly say of him: - - "Another dignity of this science is that it attests these noble truths - in terms of the other sciences, which they cannot prove or - investigate: like the prolongation of human life; for this truth is in - terms of medicine, but the art of medicine never extends itself to - this truth, nor is there anything about it in medical treatises. But - the _fidelis experimentator_ has considered that the eagle, and the - stag, and the serpent, and the phoenix prolong life, and renew their - youth, and knows that these things are given to brutes for the - instruction of men. Wherefore he has thought out noble plans (_vias - nobiles_) with this in view, and has commanded alchemy to prepare a - body of like constitution (_aequalis complexionis_), that he may use - it." - -It may be pertinent to our estimate of Bacon's experimental science to -query where the _experimentator_ ever observed an eagle or a phoenix -renewing its youth, outside of the _Physiologus_? - - "The third dignity of this science is that it does not accept truths - in terms of the other sciences, yet uses them as handmaids.... And - this science attests all natural and artificial data specifically and - in the proper province, _per experientiam perfectam_; not through - arguments, like the purely speculative sciences, and not through weak - and imperfect _experientias_, like the operative sciences (_scientiae - operativae_).[648] So this is the mistress of all, and the goal of all - speculation. But it requires great expenditures for its prosecution; - Aristotle, by Alexander's authority, besides those whom he used at - home _in experientia_, sent many thousands of men through the world to - examine (_ad experiendum_) the natures and properties of all things, - as Pliny tells. And certainly to set on fire at any distance would - cost more than a thousand marks, before adequate glasses could be - prepared; but they would be worth an army against the Turks and - Saracens. For the perfect experimenter could destroy any hostile force - by this combustion through the sun's rays. This is a marvellous thing, - yet there are many other things more wonderful in this science; but - very few people are devoted to it, from lack of money. I know but one, - who deserves praise for the prosecution of its works; he cares not for - wordy controversies, but prosecutes the works of wisdom, and in them - rests. So what others as purblind men try to see, like bats in the - twilight, he views in the full brightness of day, because he is - _dominus experimentorum_. He knows natural matters _per experientiam_, - and those of medicine and alchemy, and all things celestial and below. - He is ashamed if any layman, or old woman, or knight, or rustic, knows - what he does not. He has studied everything in metal castings, and - gold and silver work, and the use of other metals and minerals; he - knows everything pertaining to war and arms and hunting; he has - examined into agriculture and surveying; also into the experiments and - fortune-tellings of old women, knows the spells of wizards; likewise - the tricks and devices of jugglers. In fine, nothing escapes him that - he ought to know, and he knows how to expose the frauds of magic." - -It is impossible to complete philosophy, usefully and with certitude, -without Peter; but he is not to be had for a price; he could have had -every honour from princes; and if he wished to publish his works, the -whole world of Paris would follow him. But he cares not a whit for honours -or riches, though he could get them any time he chose through his wisdom. -This man has worked at such a burning-glass for three years, and soon will -perfect it by the grace of God. - -There is a great deal of Roger Bacon in these curious passages; much of -his inductive genius, much of his sanguine hopefulness, not to say -inventive imagination; and enough of his credulity. No one ever knew or -could perform all he ascribes to this astounding Peter, from whom, -apparently, there is extant a certain intelligent treatise upon the -magnet.[649] And as for those burning-glasses, or possibly reflectors, by -which distant fleets and armies should be set afire--did they ever exist? -Did Archimedes ever burn with them the Roman ships at Syracuse? Were they -ever more than a myth? It is, at all events, safe to say that no device -from the hand and brain of Peter of Maharncuria ever threatened Turk or -Saracen. - -It is knowledge that gives insight. Modern critical methods amount chiefly -to this, that we know more. Bacon did not have such knowledge of animal -physiology as would assure him of the absurdity of the notion that an -eagle or any animal could renew its youth. Nor did he know enough to -realise the vast improbability of Greek philosophers drawing their -knowledge from the books of Hebrew prophets. And one sees how loose must -have been the practice, or the dreams, of his "experimental science." His -fundamental conception seems to waver: _Scientia experimentalis_, is it a -science, or is it a means and method universally applicable to all -scientific investigation? The sciences serve it as handmaids, says Bacon; -and he also says, that it alone can test and certify, make sure and -certain, the conclusions of the other sciences. Perhaps he thought it the -master-key fitting all the doors of knowledge; and held that all sciences, -so far as possible, should proceed from experience, through further -observation and experiment. But he has not said quite this. - -He is little to be blamed for his vagueness, and greatly to be admired for -having reached his possibly inconsistent conception. Observation and -experiment were as old as human thought upon human experience. And Albert -the Great says that the conclusions of all sciences should be tested by -them. But he evinces no formal conception of either an experimental -science or method; though he has much to say as to logic, and ponderously -considers whether it is a science or the means or method of all -sciences.[650] Herein he is discussing consciously with respect to logic, -the very point as to which Bacon, in respect to experimental science, -rather unconsciously wavers: is it a science, and almost the queen? Or is -it the true scientific method to be followed by all sciences when -applicable?[651] Bacon had no high regard for the study of logic, deeming -that the thoughts of untaught men naturally followed its laws.[652] This -was doubtless true, and just as true, moreover, of experimental science -as of logic. The one and the other were built up from the ways of the -common man and universal processes of thought. Yet the logic of the -trained mind is the surer; and so experimental science may reach out -beyond the crude observations of unscientific men. - -Manifestly with Roger Bacon the _scientia experimentalis_ held the place -which logic held with Albert, or queenly dialectic with Abaelard. He -repeats himself continually in stating its properties and prerogatives, -yet without advancing to greater clearness of conception. _Pars sexta_ of -the _Opus majus_ is devoted to it: and we may take one last glance to see -whether the statements there throw any further light upon the matter. - - "The roots of the wisdom of the Latins having been placed and set in - Languages, Mathematics, and Perspective, I now wish to re-examine - these _radices_ from the side of _scientia experimentalis_; because, - without _experientia_ nothing can be known adequately. There are two - modes of arriving at knowledge (_cognoscendi_), to wit, argument and - _experimentum_. Argument draws a conclusion and forces us to concede - it, but does not make it certain or remove doubt, so that the mind may - rest in the perception of truth, unless the mind find truth by the way - of experience." - -And Bacon says, as illustration, that you could never by mere argument -convince a man that fire would burn; also that "in spite of the -demonstration of the properties of an equilateral triangle, the mind would -not stick to the conclusion _sine experientia_." - -After referring to Aristotle, and adducing some examples of foolish things -believed by learned and common men alike, because they had not applied the -tests of observation, he concludes: "Oportet ergo omnia certificari per -viam experientiae." He continues with something unexpected: - - "_Sed duplex est experientia_: one is through the external senses, and - thus those _experimenta_ take place which are made through suitable - instruments in astronomy, and by the tests of observation as to things - below. And whatever like matters may not be observed by us, we know - from other wise men who have observed them. This _experientia_ is - human and philosophical; but it is not sufficient for man, because it - does not give plenary assurance as to things corporeal; and as to - things spiritual it reaches nothing. The intellect of man needs other - aid, and so the holy patriarchs and prophets, who first gave the - sciences to the world, received inner illuminations and did not stand - on sense alone. Likewise many believers after Christ. For the grace of - faith illuminates much, and divine inspirations, not only in spiritual - but corporeal things, and in the sciences of philosophy. As Ptolemy - says, the way of coming to a knowledge of things is duplex, one - through the _experientia_ of philosophy, and the other through divine - inspiration, which is much better."[653] - -Any doubt as to the religious and Christian meaning of the last passage is -removed by Bacon's statement of the - - "seven grades of this inner science: the first is through - _illuminationes pure scientiales_; the next consists in virtues, for - the bad man is ignorant; ... the third is in the seven gifts of the - Holy Spirit, which Isaiah enumerates; the fourth is in the beatitudes - which the Lord defines in the Gospel; the fifth is in the _sensibus - spiritualibus_; the sixth is in _fructibus_, from which is the peace - of God which passes _omnem sensum_; the seventh consists in raptures - (_in raptibus_) and their modes, as in various ways divers men have - been enraptured, so that they saw many things which it is not lawful - for man to tell. And who is diligently exercised in these experiences, - or some of them, can certify both to himself and others not only as to - spiritual things, but as to all human sciences."[654] - -These utterances are religious, and bring us back to the religious, or -practical, motive of Bacon's entire endeavour after knowledge: knowledge -should have its utility, its practical bearing; and the ultimate utility -is that which promotes a sound and saving knowledge of God. The true -method of research, says Bacon in the _Compendium studii_, - - "... is to study first what properly comes first in any science, the - easier before the more difficult, the general before the particular, - the less before the greater. The student's business should lie in - chosen and useful topics, because life is short; and these should be - set forth with clearness and certitude, which is impossible without - _experientia_. Because, although we know through three means, - authority, reason, and _experientia_, yet authority is not wise - unless its reason be given (_auctoritas non sapit nisi detur ejus - ratio_), nor does it give knowledge, but belief. We believe, but do - not know, from authority. Nor can reason distinguish sophistry from - demonstration, unless we know that the conclusion is attested by facts - (_experiri per opera_). Yet the fruits of study are insignificant at - the present time, and the secret and great matters of wisdom are - unknown to the crowd of students."[655] - -It is as with an echo of this thought, that Bacon begins the second -chapter of his exposition of experimental science in the sixth part of the -_Opus majus_, from which we have but now withdrawn our attention. He -anxiously reiterates what he has already said more than once, as to the -properties and prerogatives of this _scientia experimentalis_. Then he -gives his most interesting and elaborate example of its application in the -investigation of the rainbow, an example too lengthy and too difficult to -reproduce. In stating the three prerogatives, he makes but slight change -of phrasing; yet his restatement of the last of them:--"The third -_dignitas_ of this science is that it investigates the secrets of nature -by its own competency and out of its own qualities, irrespective of any -connection with the other sciences,"--signifies an autonomous science, -rather than a method applicable to all investigation. The illustrations -which Bacon now gives, range free indeed; yet in the main relate to -"useful discoveries" as one might say: to ever-burning lamps, Greek fire, -explosives, antidotes for poison, and matters useful to the Church and -State. Along these lines of discovery through experiment, Bacon lets his -imagination travel and lead him on to surmises of inventions that long -after him were realised. "Machines for navigating are possible without -rowers, like great ships suited to river or ocean, going with greater -velocity than if they were full of rowers: likewise wagons may be moved -_cum impetu inaestimabili_, as we deem the chariots of antiquity to have -been. And there may be flying machines, so made that a man may sit in the -middle of the machine and direct it by some devise: and again, machines -for raising great weights."[656] The modern reality has outdone this -mediaeval dream. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII - -DUNS SCOTUS AND OCCAM - - -The thirteenth century was a time of potent Church unity, when the papacy, -triumphant over emperors and kings, was drawing further strength from the -devotion of the two Orders, who were renewing the spiritual energies of -Western Christendom. Scholasticism was still whole and unbroken, in spite -of Roger Bacon, who attacked its methods with weapons of his own forging, -yet asserting loudly the single-eyed subservience of all the sciences to -theology. This assertion from a man of Bacon's views, was as vain as the -_Unam sanctam_ of Pope Boniface VIII., fulminated in 1302, arrogating for -the papacy every power on earth. In earlier decades such pretensions had -been almost acquiesced in; but the _Unam sanctam_ was a senile outcry from -a papacy vanquished by the new-grown power of the French king, sustained -by the awakening of a French nation. - -The opening years of the fourteenth century, so fatal for the papacy, were -also portentous for scholasticism. The _Summa_ of Thomas was impugned by -Joannes Duns Scotus, whose entire work, constructive as well as critical, -was impressed with qualities of finality, signifying that in the forms of -reasoning represented by him as well as Thomas, thought should advance no -farther. Bacon's attack upon scholastic methods had proved abortive from -its tactlessness and confusion, and because men did not care for, and -perhaps did not understand, his arguments. It was not so with the -arguments of Duns Scotus. Throughout the academic world, thought still was -set to chords of metaphysics; and although men had never listened to quite -such dialectic orchestration as Duns provided, they liked it, perceived -its motives, and comprehended the meaning of its themes. So his generation -understood and appreciated him. That he was the beginning of the end of -the scholastic system, could not be known until the manner of that ending -had disclosed itself more fully. We, however, discern the symptoms of -scholastic dissolution in his work. His criticism of his predecessors was -disintegrating, even when not destructive. His own dialectic was so -surpassingly intricate and dizzy that, like the choir of Beauvais, it -might some day collapse. With Duns Scotus, scholasticism reasoned itself -out of human reach. And with him also, the wholeness of the scholastic -purpose finally broke. For he no longer maintained the union of -metaphysics and theology. The latter, to be sure, was valid absolutely; -but, from a speculative, it has become a practical science. It neither -draws its principles from metaphysics, nor subordinates the other -sciences--all human knowledge--to its service. Although rational in -content, it possesses proofs stronger than dialectic, and stands on -revelation. - -There had always been men who maintained similar propositions. But it was -quite another matter that the severance between metaphysics and theology -should be demonstrated by a prodigious metaphysical theologian after a -different view had been carried to its farthest reaches by the great -Aquinas. Henceforth philosophy and theology were set on opposite -pinnacles, only with theology's pinnacle the higher. In spite of the last -circumstance, the coming time showed that men cannot for long possess in -peace two standards of truth--philosophy and revelation; but will be -driven to hold to the one and ignore the other. By breaking the rational -union of philosophy and theology, Duns Scotus prepared the way for Occam. -The latter also asserts vociferously the superiority of the divine truth -over human knowledge and its reasonings. But the popes are at Avignon, and -the Christian world no longer bows down before those willing Babylonian -captives. Under such a blasted condition of the Church, how should any -inclusive Christian synthesis of thought and faith be maintained? - -Duns Scotus[657] could not have been what he was, had he not lived after -Thomas. He was indeed the pinnacle of scholasticism; set upon all the -rest. Yet this pinnacle had its more particular supports--or antecedents. -And their special line may be noted without intending thereby to suggest -that the influences affecting the thought of Duns Scotus did not include -all the men he heard or read, and criticised. - -That Duns Scotus was educated at Oxford, and became a Franciscan, and not -a Dominican, had done much to set the lines of thought reflected in his -doctrines. Anselm of Aosta, of Bec, of Canterbury, had been an -intellectual force in England. Duns was strongly influenced by his bold -realism, by his emphasis upon the power and freedom of the will, and by -his doctrine of the atonement.[658] But Anselm also affected Scotus -indirectly through the English worthy who stands between them. - -This, of course, was Robert Grosseteste, to whom we have had occasion to -refer, yet, despite of his intrinsic worth, always in relation to his -effect on others. He was a great man; in his day a many-sided force, -strong in the business of Church and State, strong in censuring and -bridling the wicked, strong in the guidance of the young university of -Oxford, and a mighty friend of the Franciscan Order, then establishing -itself there. To his pupils, and their pupils apparently, he was a -fruitful inspiration; yet the historian of thought may be less interested -in the master than in certain of these pupils who brought to explicit form -divers matters which in Grosseteste seem to have been but inchoate.[659] -One thinks immediately of Roger Bacon, who was his pupil; and then of -Duns, the metaphysician, who possibly may have listened to some aged pupil -of Grosseteste. In different ways, Duns as well as Bacon took much from -the master. And it is possible to see how the great teacher and bishop -may have incited the genius of Scotus as well as that of Bacon to perform -its task. For Grosseteste was a rarely capable and clear-eyed man, honest -and resolute, who with the entire strength of a powerful personality -insisted upon going to the heart of every proposition, and testing its -validity by the surest means obtainable. By virtue of his training and -intellectual inheritance, he was an Augustinian and a Platonist; a -successor of Anselm, rather than a predecessor of the great Dominican -Aristotelians. He was accordingly an emphatic realist, yet one who would -co-ordinate the reality of his "universals" with the reality of -experience. Even had he not been an Augustinian, such a masterful -character would have realised the power of the human will, and felt the -practical insistencies of the _art_ of human salvation, which was the -_science_ of theology. - -Views like these prevailed at Oxford. They may be found clearly stated by -Richard of Middleton, an Oxford Franciscan somewhat older than Duns -Scotus. He declares that theology is a practical science, and emphasises -the primacy and freedom of the will. _Voluntas est nobilissima potentia in -anima._ Again: _Voluntas simpliciter nobilior est quam intellectus_: the -intellect indeed goes before the Will, as the servant who carries the -candle before his lord. So the idea of the Good, toward which the Will -directs itself, is higher than that of the True, which is the object of -the mind; and loving is greater than knowing.[660] Roger Bacon had also -held that Will (_Voluntas_) was higher than the knowing faculty -(_intellectus_); and so did Henry of Ghent,[661] a man of the Low -Countries, _doctor solemnis_ hight, and a ruling spirit at the Paris -University in the latter part of the thirteenth century. Many of his -doctrines substantially resembled those of Scotus, although attacked by -him. - -So we seem to see the pit in which Duns may have digged. This man, who was -no mere _fossor_, but a builder, and might have deserved the name of -Poliorcetes, as the overthrower of many bulwarks, has left few traces of -himself, beyond his twenty tomes of metaphysics, which contain no personal -references to their author. The birthplace of Johannes Duns Scotus, -whether in Scotland, England or Ireland, is unknown. The commonly accepted -date, 1274, probably should be abandoned for an earlier year. It is known -that he was a Franciscan, and that the greater part of his life as student -and teacher was passed at Oxford. In a letter of commendation, written by -the General of his Order in 1304, he is already termed _subtilissimus_. He -was then leaving for Paris, where, two or three years later, in 1307, he -was made a Doctor. The following year he was sent to Cologne, and there he -died an enigmatical death on November 8, 1308. Report has it that he was -buried alive while in a trance.[662] Probably there was little to tell of -the life of Duns Scotus. His personality, as well as his career, seems -completely included and exhausted in his works. Yet back of them, besides -a most acutely reasoning mind, lay an indomitable will. The man never -faltered in his labour any more than his reasoning wavered in its -labyrinthic course to its conclusions. His learning was complete: he knew -the Bible and the Fathers; he was a master of theology, of philosophy, of -astronomy, and mathematics. - -The constructive processes of his genius appear to issue out of the action -of its critical energies. Duns was the most penetrating critic produced by -scholasticism. Whatever he considered from the systems of other men he -subjected to tests that were apt to leave the argument in tatters. No -logical inconsequence escaped him. And when every point had been examined -with respect to its rational consistency, this dialectic genius was -inclined to bring the matter to the bar of psychological experience. On -the other hand he was a churchman, holding that even as Scripture and -dogma were above question, so were the decrees of the Church, God's -sanctioned earthly _Civitas_. - -Having thus tested whatever was presented by human reason, and accepting -what was declared by Scripture or the Church, Duns proceeds to build out -his doctrine as the case may call for. No man ever drove either -constructive logic or the subtilties of critical distinctions closer to -the limits of human comprehension or human patience than Duns Scotus. And -here lies the trouble with him. The endless ramification and refinement -of his dialectic, his devious processes of conclusion, make his work a -_reductio ad absurdum_ of scholastic ways of reasoning. Logically, -eristically, the argumentation is inerrant. It never wanders aimlessly, -but winding and circling, at last it reaches a conclusion from some point -unforeseen. Would you run a course with this master of the syllogism? If -you enter _his_ lists, you are lost. The right way to attack him, is to -stand without, and laugh. That is what was done afterwards, when whoever -cared for such reasonings was called a _Dunce_, after the name of this -most subtle of mediaeval metaphysicians. - -Thus a man is judged by his form and method, and by the bulk of his -accomplishment. Form, method, bulk of accomplishment, with Scotus were -preposterous. When the taste or mania for such dialectics passed away, -this kind of form, this maze of method, this hopelessness of bulk, made an -unfit vehicle for a philosophy of life. Men would not search it through to -find the living principles. Yet living principles were there; or, at -least, tenable and consistent views. The main positions of Duns Scotus, -some of which he held in opposition to Thomas, may strike us as quite -reasonable: we may be inclined to agree with him. Perhaps it will surprise -us to find sane doctrine so well hidden in such dialectic. - -He held, for example, that there is no real difference between the soul -and its faculties. Thomas never demonstrated the contrary quite -satisfactorily. Again, Duns Scotus was a realist: the Idea exists, since -it is conceived. For the intellect is passive, and is moved by the -intelligible. Therefore the Universal must be a something, in order to -occasion the conception of it. Thus the reality of the concept proves the -actuality of the Idea.[663] Duns adds further explanations and -distinctions regarding the actuality of universals, which are somewhat -beyond the comprehension of the modern mind. But one may remark that he -reaches his views of the actuality of universals through analysis of the -processes of thought. Sense-perception occasions the Idea in us; there -must exist some objective correspondence to our general concepts, as there -must also be in things some objective correspondence to our perception of -them as individuals, whereby they become to us this or that individual -thing. Such individual objectivity is constituted by the _thisness_ of the -thing, its _haecceitas_ which is to be contra-distinguished from its -general essence, to wit, its _whatness_, or _quidditas_. Duns holds that -we think individual things directly as we think abstract Ideas; and so -their _haecceitas_ is as true an object of our thought as their -_quidditas_. This seems a reasonable conclusion, seeing that the -individual and not the type is the final end of creation. So our -conceptions prove for us the actuality both of the universal and the -concrete; and the proof of one and the other is rooted in -sense-perception. - -Nothing was of greater import with Duns than the doctrine of the primacy -of the Will over the intellect. Duns supports it with intricate argument. -The soul in substance is identical with its faculties; but the latter are -formally distinguishable from it and from each other. Knowing and willing -are faculties or properties of the soul. The will is purely spiritual, and -to be distinguished from sense-appetite: the will, and the will alone, is -free; absolutely undetermined by any cause beyond itself. Even the -intellect, that is the knowing faculty, is determined from without. -Although some cognition precedes the act of willing, the will is not -determined by cognition, but uses it. So the will, being free, is higher -than the intellect. It is the will that constitutes man's greatness; it -raises him above nature, and liberates him from her coercions. Not the -intellect, but the will directs itself toward the goal of blessedness, and -is the subject of the moral virtues. Such seems to be Duns's main -position; but he distinguishes and refines the matter beyond the limits of -our comprehension.[664] - -Another fundamental doctrine with Duns Scotus is that theology is not a -speculative, but a practical, science--a position which Duns -unfortunately disproved with his tomes of metaphysics! But in spite of the -personal _reductio ad absurdum_ of his argument, the position taken by him -betokens the breaking up of the scholastic system. The subject of -theology, at least for men, is the revelation of God contained in -Scripture. "Holy Scripture is a kind of knowledge (_quaedam notitia_) -divinely given in order to direct men to a supernatural end--_in finem -supernaturalem_."[665] The knowledge revealed in Scripture relates to -God's free will and ordainment for man; which is, that man should attain -blessedness. Therefore the truths of Scripture are practical, having an -end in view; they are such as are necessary for Salvation. The Church has -authority to declare the meaning of Scripture, and supplement it through -its Catholic tradition. - -Is theology, then, properly a science? Duns will not deny it; but thinks -it may more properly be called a _sapientia_, since according to its -nature, it is rather a knowledge of principles than a method of -conclusions. It consists in knowledge of God directly revealed. Therefore -its principles are not those of the human sciences: for example, it does -not accept its principles from metaphysics, although that science treats -of much that is contained in theology. Nor are the sciences--we can hardly -say the _other_ sciences--subordinated to it; since their province is -natural knowledge obtained through natural means. Theology, if it be a -science, is one apart from the rest. The knowledge which makes its -substance is never its end, but always means to its end; which is to say, -that it is practical and not speculative. By virtue of its primacy as well -as character, theology pertains to the Will, and works itself out in -practice: practical alike are its principles and conclusions. Apparently, -with Duns, theology is a science only in this respect, that its substance, -which is most rational, may be logically treated with a view to a complete -and consistent understanding of it.[666] - -In entire consistency with these fundamental views, Duns held that man's -supreme beatitude lay in the complete and perfect functioning of his will -in accordance with the will of God. This was a strong and noble view of -man, free to think and act and will and love, according to the will, and -aided by the Grace, of the Creator of his will and mind. The trouble lay, -as said before, in the method by which all was set forth and proved. The -truly consequent person who made theology a practical matter, was such a -one as Francis of Assisi, with his ceaselessly-burning Christlike love -actualizing itself in living act and word--or possibly such a one as -Bonaventura with his piety. But can it ever seem other than fantastic, to -state this principle, and then bulwark it with volumes of dialectic and a -metaphysics beyond the grasp of human understanding? Not from such does -one learn to do the will of God. This was scarcely the way to make good -the ultimate practical character of religion, as against Thomas's frankly -intellectual view. Duns is as intellectual as Thomas; but Thomas is the -more consistent. And shall we say, that with Duns all makes toward God, as -the final end, through the strong action of the human will and love? So be -it--Thomas said, through intellection and through love. Again one queries, -did the Scotian reasoning ever foster love? - -And then Duns set theology apart,--and supreme. Again, so be it. Let the -impulsive religion of the soul assert its primacy. But this was not the -way of Duns. Theology and philosophy do not rest on the same principles, -says he; but how does he demonstrate it? By substantiating this severance -by means of metaphysical dialectic, and using the same dialectic and the -same metaphysics to prove that theology can do without either. Not by -dialectic and metaphysics can theology free itself from them, and set -itself on other foundations. - -Duns Scotus exerted great influence, both directly and through the -reaction occasioned by certain of his teachings. The next generations were -full of Scotists, who were proud if only they might be reputed more subtle -than their master. They succeeded in becoming more inane. There were other -men, whom the critical processes of Duns led to deny the validity of his -constructive metaphysics. Of those who profited by his teaching, yet -represented this reaction against parts of it, the ablest was the -Franciscan, William of Occam, a man but few years younger than Duns. He -was born in England, in the county of Surrey; and studied under Duns at -Paris. It is known that in 1320 he was lecturing with distinction at this -centre of intellectual life. Three years afterward, he quitted his chair, -and in the controversies then rending his Order, hotly espoused the cause -of the _Spirituales_--the Franciscans who would carry out the precepts of -Francis to the letter. Next, he threw himself with all the ardour of his -temper into the conflict with the papacy, and became the literary champion -of the rights of the State. He was cited before the pope, and imprisoned -at Avignon, but escaped, in 1328, and fled to the Court of the emperor, -Louis of Bavaria, to whom, as the accounts declare, he addressed the proud -word: _Tu me defendas gladio, ego te defendam calamo_. He died about 1347. - -The succession, as it were, of Occam to Duns Scotus, is of great interest. -It was portentous for scholasticism. The pupil, for pupil in large measure -he was, profited by the critical methods and negations of the master. But -he denied the validity of the metaphysical constructions whereby Duns -sought to rebuild what his criticism had cast down or shaken. Especially, -Occam would not accept the subtle Doctor's fabrication of an external -world in accord with the apparent necessities of thought. For with all -Duns's critical insistency, never did a man more unhesitatingly make a -universe to fit the syllogistic processes of his reason, projected into -the external world. Here Occam would not follow him, as Aristotle would -not follow Plato. - -It were well to consider more specifically these two sides of Occam's -succession to Duns Scotus, shown in his acceptance and rejection of the -master's teaching. He followed him, of course, in emphasising the -functions of the will; and accepted the conception of theology as -practical, and not speculative, in its ends; and, like Duns, he -distinguished, nay rather, severed, theology from philosophy, widening the -cleft between them. If, with Duns, theology was still, in a sense, a -science; with Occam it could hardly be called one. Although Duns denied -that theology was to be controlled by principles drawn from metaphysics, -he laboured to produce a metaphysical counterfeit, wherein theology, -founded on revelation and church law, should present a close parallel to -what it would have been, had its controlling principles been those of -metaphysics. Occam quite as resolutely as his master, proves the -untenability of current theological reasonings. More unreservedly than -Duns, he interdicts the testing of theology by reason: and goes beyond him -in restricting the sphere of rationally demonstrable truth, denying, for -instance, that reason can demonstrate God's unity, infinity, or even -existence. Unlike Duns, he would not attempt to erect a quasi-scientific -theology, in the place of the systems he rejects. To make up for this -negative result, Occam asserted the verity of Scripture unqualifiedly, as -Duns also did. With Occam, Scripture, revelation, is absolutely -infallible, neither requiring nor admitting the proofs of reason. To be -sure he co-ordinates with it the Law of Nature, which God has implanted in -our minds. But otherwise theology, faith, stands alone, very isolated, -although on the alleged most certain of foundations. The provinces of -science and faith are different. Faith's assent is not required for what -is known through evidence; science does not depend on faith. Nor does -faith or theology depend on _scientia_. And since, without faith, no one -can assent to those verities which are to be believed (_veritatibus -credibilibus_), there is no _scientia proprie dicta_ respecting them. So -the breach in the old scholastic, Thomist, unity was made utter and -irreparable. Theology stands on the surest of bases, but isolated, -unsupported; philosophy, all human knowledge, extends around and below -it, and is discredited because irrelevant to highest truth. - -Thus far as to Occam's loyal and rebellious succession to the theology of -Duns. In philosophy, it was much the same. He accepted his critical -methods, but would not follow him in his constructive metaphysics. -Although the older man was pre-eminently a metaphysician, the critical -side of his intellect drew empiric processes within the sweep of its -energies. Occam, unconvinced of the correspondence between the logic of -concepts and the facts of the external world, seeks to limit the -principles of the former to the processes of the mind. Accordingly, he -rejects the inferences of the Scotian dialectic which project themselves -outward, as proofs of the objective existence of abstract or general -ideas. It is thus from a more thoroughgoing application of the Scotian -analysis of mental processes, and a more thoroughgoing testing of the -evidence furnished by experience, that Occam refuses to recognise the -existence of universals save in the mind, where evidently they are -necessary elements of thinking. Manifestly, he is striving very earnestly -not to go beyond the evidence; and he is also striving to eliminate all -unevidenced and unnecessary elements, and those chimeras of the mind, -which become actual untruths when posited as realities of the outer world. - -Such were the motives of Occam's far from simple theory of cognition. In -it, mental perceptions, or cognitions, were regarded as symbols (_signa_, -_termini_) of the objects represented by them. They are natural, as -contrasted with the artificial symbols of speech and writing. They fall -into three classes; first, sense-perception of the concrete object, and -thirdly, so to speak, the abstract concept representative of many objects, -or of some ideal figment or quality. Intermediate between the two, Occam -puts _notitia intuitiva_, which relates to the existence of concrete -things. It serves as a basis for the cognition of their combinations and -relationships, and forms a necessary antecedent to abstract knowledge. -_Notitia abstractiva praesupponit intuitivam._[667] Occam holds that -_notitia intuitiva_ presents the concrete thing as it exists. Otherwise -with abstract or general concepts. They are _signa_ of mental -presentations, or processes; and there is no ground for transferring them -to the world of outer realities. Their existence is confined to the mind, -where they are formed from the common elements of other _signa_, -especially those of our _notitia intuitiva_. "And so," says Occam, "the -genus is not common to many things through any sameness _in them_, but -through the common nature (_communitatem_) of the _signum_, by which the -same _signum_ is common to many things signified."[668] These universals -furnish predicates for our judgments, since through them we conceive of -realities as containing a common element of nature. They are not mere -words; but have a real existence in the mind, where they perform functions -essential to thinking. Indirectly, through their bases of _notitiae -intuitivae_, they even reflect outer realities. "The Universal is no mere -figment, to which there is no correspondence of anything like it (_cui non -correspondet aliquod consimile_) in objective being, as that is figured in -the thinker." - -It results from the foregoing argument, that science, ordered knowledge, -which seeks co-ordination and unity, has not to do with things; but with -propositions, its object being that which is known, rather than that which -is. Things are singular, while science treats of general ideas, which are -only in the mind. "It should be understood, that any science, whether -_realis_ or _rationalis_, is only concerned with propositions -(_propositionibus_); because propositions alone are known."[669] - -It was not so very great a leap from the realism of Duns, which ascribed a -certain objective existence to general ideas, to the nominalism, or rather -conceptualism, of Occam, which denied it, yet recognised the real -existence and necessary functions of universals, in the mind. The -metaphysically proved realities of Duns were rather spectral, and Occam's -universals, subjective though they were, lived a real and active life. One -feels that the realities of Duns's metaphysics scarcely extended beyond -the thinker's mind. In many respects Occam's philosophy was a strenuous -carrying out of Duns's teachings; and when it was not, we see the younger -man pushed, or rather repelled, to the positions which he took, by the -unsatisfying metaphysics of his teacher. History shows other rebounds of -thought, which seem abrupt, and yet were consequential in the same dual -way that Occam's doctrine followed that of Duns. Out of the Brahmin -Absolute came the Buddhist wheel of change; even as Parmenides was -followed hard by Heraclitus. And how often Atheism steps on Pantheism's -heels! - -Thus, developing, revising, and changing, Occam carried out the work of -Duns, and promulgated a theory of knowledge which pointed on to much later -phases of thinking. In his school he came to be called _venerabilis -inceptor_, a proper title for the man who shook loose from so much -previous thought, and became the source of so many novel views. He had, -indeed, little fear of novelty. "Novelties (_novitates_) are not -altogether to be rejected; but as what is old (_vetusta_), on becoming -burdensome, should be abolished, so novelties when, to the sound judgment, -they are useful, fruitful, necessary, expedient, are the more boldly to be -embraced."[670] - -It is not, however, as the inceptor of new philosophies or of novel views -on the relations between State and Papacy that we are viewing Occam here -at the close of this long presentation of the ultimate intellectual -interests of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. But rather as the man -who represented the ways in which the old was breaking up, and embodied -the thoughts rending the scholastic system; who even was a factor in the -palpable decadence of scholastic thinking that had set in before his eyes -were closed. For from him came a new impulse to a renewed overstudy of -formal logic--with Thomas, for example, logic had but filled its proper -role. Withdrawing from metaphysics the matter pertaining to the problem of -universals and much more besides, Occam transferred the same to logic, -which he called _omnium artium aptissimum instrumentum_.[671] This -reinstatement of logic as the instrument and means of all knowledge was to -be the perdition of emptier-minded men, who felt no difference between -philosophy and the war of words. And in this respect at least the -decadence of scholasticism took its inception from this bold and virile -mind which had small reverence for popes or for the idols of the schools. -We shall not follow the lines of this decay, but simply notice where they -start. - -In the growth and decline of thought, things so go hand in hand that it is -hard to say what draws and what is drawn. In the scholastic decadence, the -preposterous use of logic was a palpable element. Yet was it cause or -effect? Obviously both. Scholasticism was losing its grasp of life; and -the universities in the fourteenth century were crowded with men whose -minds mistook words for thoughts; and because of this they gave themselves -to hypertrophic logic. On the other hand, this windy study promoted the -increasing emptiness of philosophy. - -Likewise, as cause and effect, inextricably bound together, the other -factors work, and are worked upon. The number of universities increases; -professors and students multiply; but there is an awful dearth of thinkers -among them. There ceases even to be a thorough knowledge of the scholastic -systems; men study from compendia; and thereby remain most deeply -ignorant, and unfecundated by the thoughts of their forbears. Cause and -effect again! We can hardly blame them, when tomes and encyclopaedias were -being heaped mountain high, with life crushed beneath the monstrous pile, -or escaping from it. But whether cause or effect, the energies of study -slackened, and even rotted, both at the universities and generally among -the members of the two Student Orders, from whom had come the last -creators--and perhaps destroyers--of scholasticism. - -Next: the language of philosophy deteriorated, becoming turbid with the -barbarisms of hair-splitting technicalities. Likewise the method of -presentation lost coherence and clarity. All of which was the result of -academic decadence, and promoted it. - -So decay worked on within the system, each failing element being both -effect and cause, in a general subsidence of merit. There were also -causes, as it were, from without; which possibly were likewise effects of -this scholastic decay As the life of the world once had gone out of -paganism, and put on the new vigour of Christianity, so the life of the -world was now forsaking scholasticism, and deriding, shall we say, the -womb it had escaped from. Was the embryo ripe, that the womb had become -its mephitic prison? At all events, the fourteenth century brought forth, -and the next was filled with, these men who called the readers of Duns -Scotus _Dunces_--and the word still lives. Men had new thoughts; the power -of the popes was shattered, and within the Church, popes and councils -fought for supremacy; there was no longer any actual unity of the Church -to preserve the unity of thought; Wicliffe had risen; Huss and Luther were -close to the horizon; a new science of observation was also stirring, and -a new humanism was abroad. The life of men had not lessened nor their -energies and powers of thought. Yet life and power no longer pulsed and -wrought within the old forms; but had gone out from them, and disdainfully -were flouting the emptied husks. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII - -THE MEDIAEVAL SYNTHESIS: DANTE - - -It lies before us to draw the lines of mediaeval development together. We -have been considering the Middle Ages very largely, endeavouring to fix in -mind the more interesting of their intellectual and emotional phenomena. -We have found throughout a certain spiritual homogeneity; but have also -seen that the mediaeval period of western Europe is not to be forced to a -fictitious unity of intellectual and emotional quality--contradicted by a -disparity of traits and interests existing then as now. Yet just as -certain ways of discerning facts and estimating their importance -distinguish our own time, making it an "age" or epoch, so in spite of -diversity and conflict, the same was true of the mediaeval period. From -the ninth to the fourteenth century, inter-related processes of thought, -beliefs, and standards prevailed and imparted a spiritual colour to the -time. While not affecting all men equally, these spiritual habits tended -to dominate the minds and tempers of those men who were the arbiters of -opinion, for example, the church dignitaries, or the -theologian-philosophers. Men who thought effectively, or upon whom it fell -to decide for others, or to construct or imagine for them, such, whether -pleasure-loving, secularly ambitious, or immersed in contemplation of the -life beyond the grave, accepted certain beliefs, recognized certain -authoritatively prescribed ideals of conduct and well-being, and did not -reject the processes of proof supporting them. - -The causes making the Middle Ages a characterizable period in human -history have been scanned. We observed the antecedent influences as they -finally took form and temper in the intellectual atmosphere of the -latter-day pagan world and the cognate mentalities of the Church Fathers. -We followed the pre-Christian Latinizing of Provence, Spain, Gaul, and the -diffusion of Christianity throughout the same countries, where, save for -sporadic dispossession, Christianity and Latin were to continue, and -become, in the course of centuries, mediaeval and Romance. As waves of -barbarism washed over the somewhat decadent society of Italy and her Latin -daughters, we saw a new ignorance setting a final seal upon the inability -of these epigoni to emulate bygone achievements. Plainly there was need of -effort to rescue the _disjecta membra_ of the antique and Christian -heritages. The wreckers were famous men, young Boethius, old Cassiodorus, -the great pope Gregory, and princely Isidore. For their own people they -were gatherers and conservers; but they proved veritable transmitters for -Franks, Anglo-Saxons and Germans, who were made acquainted with -Christianity and Latinity between the sixth and the ninth centuries, the -period in the course of which the Merovingian kingdoms were superseded by -the Carolingian Empire. - -With the Carolingian period the Middles Ages unquestionably are upon us. -The factors and material of mediaeval development, howsoever they have -come into conjunction, are found in interplay. It was for the mediaeval -peoples, now in presence of their spiritual fortunes, to grow and draw -from life. Their task, as has appeared from many points of view, was to -master the Christian and antique material, and change its substance into -personal faculty. Under different guises this task was for all, whether -living in Italy or dwelling where the antique had weaker root or had been -newly introduced. - -This Carolingian time of so much sheer introduction to the teaching of the -past presented little intellectual discrimination. That would come very -gradually, when men had mastered their lesson and could set themselves to -further study of the parts suited to their taste. Nevertheless, there was -even in the Carolingian period another sort of discrimination, towards -which men's consciences were drawn by the contrast between their antique -and Christian heritages, and because the latter held a criterion of -selection and rejection, touching all the elements of human life. - -Whoever reflects upon his life and its compass of thought, of inclination, -of passion, action, and capacity for happiness or desolation, is likely to -consider how he may best harmonize its elements. He will have to choose -and reject; and within him may arise a conflict which he must bring to -reconcilement if he will have peace. He may need to sacrifice certain of -his impulses or even rational desires. As with a thoughtful individual, so -with thoughtful people of an epoch, among whom like standards of -discrimination may be found prevailing. The ninth century received, with -patristic Christianity, a standard of selection and rejection. In -conformity with it, men, century after century, were to make their choice, -and try to bring their lives to a discriminating unity and certain peace. -Yet in every mediaeval century the soul's peace was broken in ways -demanding other modes of reconcilement. - -What profiteth a man to gain the world and lose his eternal life? Here was -the Gospel basis of the matter. And, following their conception of -Christ's teaching, the Fathers of the Church elaborated and defined the -conditions of attainment of eternal life with God, which was salvation. -This was man's whole good, embracing every valid and righteous element of -life. Thus it had been with Christ; thus it was with Augustine; thus it -was with Benedict of Nursia and Gregory the Great; only in Benedict and -Gregory the salvation which represented the true and uncorrupt life of man -on earth, as well as the assured preparation for eternal life with God, -had shrunken from the universality of Christ, and even from the fulness of -desire with which Augustine sought to know God and the soul. In these -later men the conception of salvation had contracted through ascetic -exclusion and barbaric fear. - -Yet with Benedict and Gregory, in whom there was much constructive sanity, -and indeed with all men who were not maniacally constrained, there was -recognition that salvation was of the mind as well as through faith and -love, or abhorrent fear. It is necessary to know the truth; and surely it -is absolutely good to desire to know the truth forever, without the -cumbrances of fleshly mortality. This desire is a true part of everlasting -life. Through it Origen, Hilary of Poictiers, Augustine largely, and after -them the great scholastics with Dante at their close, achieved salvation. - -But why should one desire to know the truth utterly and forever, were not -the truth desirable, lovable? Naturally one loves that which through -desire and effort one has come to know. Love is required and also faith by -him who will have and know the salvation which is eternal life; the -emotions must take active part. Yet salvation comes not through the -unguided sense-desiderative nature. It is for reason to direct passionate -desire, and raise it to desire rationally approved, which is volition. - -Thus salvation not only requires the action of the whole man, but is in -and of his entire nature. It presents a unity primarily because of its -agreement with the will of God, and then because of its unqualified and -universal insistence that it, salvation, life eternal, be set absolutely -first in man's endeavour. What indeed could be more irrational, and more -loveless and faithless, than that any desire should prevail over the -entire good of man and the will of God as well? Oneness and peace consist -in singleness of purpose and endeavour for salvation. Herein lies the -standard of conduct and of discrimination as touching every element of -mortal life. - -With mediaeval men, the application of the criterion of salvation depended -on how the will of God for man, and man's accordant conduct, was -conceived. What kind of conduct, what elements of the intellectual and -emotional life were proper for the Kingdom of Heaven? What matters barred -the way, or were unfit for the eternal spiritual state? The history of -Christian thought lies within these queries. An authoritative consensus of -opinion was represented by the Church at large, holding from century to -century a _juste milieu_ of doctrine, by no means lax and yet not going to -ascetic extremes. Seemingly the Church maintained varying standards of -conduct for different orders of men. Yet in truth it was applying one -standard according to the responsibilities of individuals and their vows. - -The Church (meaning, for our purpose, the authoritative consensus of -mediaeval ecclesiastical or religious approvals) always upheld as the -ideal of perfect living the religious life, led under the sanction and -guidance of some recognized monastic _regula_. So lived monks and nuns, -and in more extreme or sporadic instances, anchorites and _reclusae_. The -main peril of this strait and narrow path was its forsaking, the breaking -of its vows. Less austerely guarded and exposed to further dangers were -the secular clergy, living in the world, occupied with the care of lay -souls, and with other cares that hardly touched salvation. The world -avowedly, the flesh in reality, and the devil in all probability, beset -the souls of bishops and other clergy. In view of their exposed positions -"in the world," a less austerely ascetic life was expected of the -seculars, whose lapses from absolute holiness God might--or perhaps might -not--condone. - -Around, and for the most part below, regulars and seculars were the laity -of both sexes, of all ages, positions, and degrees of instruction or -ignorance. They had taken no vows of utter devotion to God's service, and -were expected to marry, beget children, fight and barter, and fend for -themselves amid the temptations and exigencies of affairs. Well for them -indeed if they could live in communion with the Church, and die repentant -and absolved, eligible for purgatory. - -For all these kinds of men and women like virtues were prescribed, -although their fulfilment was looked for with varying degrees of -expectation. For instance, the distinctly theological virtues, faith, -hope, and charity, especially the first, could not be completely attained -by the ignorance and imperfect consecration of laymen. The vices, -likewise, were the same for all, pride, anger, hypocrisy, and the rest; -only with married people a venial unchastity was sacramentally declared -not to constitute mortal sin. For this one case, human weakness, also -mankind's necessity, was recognized; while, in practice, the Church, -through its boundless opportunities for penitence and absolution, -mercifully condoned all delinquency save obstinate pride, impenitence, and -disbelief. - -These were the bare poles ethical of the orthodox mediaeval Christian -scheme. How as to its intellectual and emotional inclusiveness? The -many-phased interest of the mind, _i.e._ the desire to know, was in -principle accepted, but with the condition that the ultimate end of -knowledge should be the attainment of salvation. It was stated and -re-emphasized by well-nigh every type of mediaeval thinker, that Theology -was the queen of sciences, and her service alone justified her handmaids. -All knowledge should make for the knowledge of God, and enlarge the soul's -relationship to its Creator and Judge. "He that is not with me is against -me." Knowledge which does not aid man to know his God and save his soul, -all intellectual pursuits which are not loyal to this end, minister to the -obstinacy and vainglory of man, stiff-necked, disobedient, unsubmissive to -the will of God. Knowledge is justified or condemned according to its -ultimate purpose. Likewise every deed, business, occupation, which can -fill out the active life of man. As they make for Christ and salvation, -the functions of ruler, warrior, lawyer, artisan, priest, are justified -and blessed--or the reverse. - -But how as to the appetites and the emotions? How as to love, between the -sexes, parent and child, among friends? The standard of discrimination is -still the same, though its application vary. Appetite for food, if -unrestrained, is gluttony; it must be held from hindering the great end. -One must guard against love's obsession, against sense-passion, which is -so forgetful of the ultimate good: concupiscence is sinful. Through bodily -begetting, the taint of original sin is transmitted; and in all carnal -desire, though sanctioned by the marriage sacrament, is lust and spiritual -forgetfulness. When in fornication and adultery its acts contravene God's -law, they are mortal sins which will, if unabsolved, cast the sinner into -hell. - -Few men in the Middle Ages were insensible to their future lot, and -therefore the criterion of salvation unto eternal life would rarely be -rejected. But often there was conflict within the soul before it -acquiesced in what it felt compelled to recognize; and sometimes there was -clear revolt against current convictions, or practical insistence that a -larger volume of the elements of human nature were fit for life eternal. - -Conflict before acquiescence had agitated the natures of sainted Fathers -of the Church, who marked out the path to salvation which the Middle Ages -were to tread. One thinks at once of Jerome's never-forgotten dream of -exclusion from Paradise because of too great delight in classic reading. -Another phase was Augustine's, set forth somewhat retrospectively in his -_Confessions_. Therein, as would seem, the drawings of the flesh were most -importunate. Yet not without sighs and waverings did the _mind_ of -Augustine settle to its purpose of knowing only God and the soul. At all -events the chafings of mortal curiosity, the promptings of cultivated -taste, and the cravings of the flesh, were the moving forces of the -Psychomachia which passed with Patristic Christianity to the Middle Ages. -Thousands upon thousands of ardent souls were to experience this conflict -before convincing themselves that classic studies should be followed only -as they led heavenward, and that carnal love was an evil thing which, even -when sacramentally sanctioned, might deflect the soul. - -The revolt against the authoritatively accepted standard declared itself -along the same lines of conflict, but did not end in acquiescence and -renunciation. It contended rather for a peace and reconcilement which -should include much that was looked upon askance. It was not always -violent, and might be dumb to the verge of unconsciousness, merely a tacit -departure from standards more universally recognized than followed. - -There were countless instances of this silent departure from the standard -of salvation. With cultivated men, it realized itself in classical -studies, as with Hildebert of Le Mans or John of Salisbury. It does not -appear that either of them experienced qualms of conscience or suffered -rebuke from their brethren. No more did Gerbert, an earlier instance of -catholic interest in profane knowledge, though legends of questionable -practices were to encircle his fame. - -Other men pursued knowledge, rational or physical, in such a way as to -rouse hostile attention to its irrelevancy or repugnancy to saving faith, -and this even in spite of formal demonstration by the investigator--Roger -Bacon is in our mind--of the advantage of his researches to the Queen -Theology. Bacon might not have been so suspect to his brethren, and his -demonstration of the theological serviceableness of natural knowledge -would have passed, had he not put forth bristling manifestos denouncing -the blind acceptance of custom and authority. Moreover, the obvious -tendencies of methods of investigation advocated by him countered methods -of faith; for the mediaeval and patristic conception of salvation, -whatever collateral supports it might find in reason, was founded on the -authority of revelation. - -Indeed it was the lifting up of the standard of rational investigation -which distinguished the veritable revolt from those preliminary inner -conflicts which often strengthened final acquiescence. And it was the -obstinate elevation of one's individual wisdom (as it appeared to the -orthodox) that separated the accredited supporters of the Church among -theologians and philosophers, from those who were suspect. We mark the -line of the latter reaching back through Abaelard to Eriugena. Such men, -although possibly narrower in their intellectual interests than some who -more surely abode within the Church's pale, may be held as broader in -principle. For inasmuch as they tended to set reason above authority, it -would seem that there was no bound to their pursuit of rational knowledge, -wherewith to expand and fortify their reason. - -But if the intellectual side of man pressed upon the absolutism of the -standard of salvation, more belligerent was the insistency of love--not of -the Crucified. To the Church's disparagement of the flesh, love made -answer openly, not slinking behind hedges or closed doors, nor even -sheltering itself within wedlock's lawfulness. It, love, without regard to -priestly sanction, proclaimed itself a counter-principle of worth. The -love of man for woman was to be an inspiration to high deeds and noble -living as well as a source of ennobling power. It presented an ideal for -knights and poets. It could confer no immortality on lovers save that of -undying fame: but it promised the highest happiness and worth in mortal -life. If only knights and ladies might not have grown old, the supremacy -of love and its emprize would have been impregnable. But age must come, -and the ghastly mediaeval fear of death was like to drive lover and -mistress at the last within some convent refuge. Fear brought compunction -and perhaps its tears. Renunciation of the joy of life seemed a fit -penance to disarm the Judge's wrath. So at the end of life the ideal of -love was prone to make surrender to salvation. Asceticism even enters its -literature, as with the monkish Galahad. There was, however, another way -of reconcilement between the carnal and the spiritual, the secular and the -eternal, by which the secular and carnal were transformed to symbols of -the spiritual and eternal--the way of the _Vita nuova_ and the _Divina -Commedia_, as we shall see. - -So in spite of conflicts or silent treasons within the natures of many who -fought beneath the Christian banner, in spite of open mutinies of the mind -and declared revolts of the heart, salvation remained the triumphant -standard of discrimination by which the elements of mediaeval life were to -be esteemed or rejected. What then were these elements to which this -standard, or deflections from it, should apply? How specify their -mediaeval guise and character? It would be possible to pass in review -synoptically the contents of this work. We might return, and then once -more travel hitherward over the mediaeval path, the many paths and byways -of mediaeval life. We might follow and again see applied--or -unapplied--these standards of discrimination, salvation over all, and the -deviations of pretended acquiescence or subconscious departure. We might -perhaps make one final attempt to draw the currents of mediaeval life -together, or observe the angles of their divergence, and note once more -the disparity of taste and interest making so motley the mediaeval -picture. But this has been done so excellently, in colours of life, and -presented in the person of a man in whom mediaeval thought and feeling -were whole, organic, living--an achievement by the Artist moving the -antecedent scheme of things which made this man Dante what he was. We -shall find in him the conflict, the silent departures, and the -reconcilement at last of recalcitrant elements brought within salvation as -the standard of universal discrimination. Dante accomplishes this -reconcilement in personal yet full mediaeval manner by transmuting the -material to the spiritual, the mortal to the eternal, through the -instrumentality of symbolism. He is not merely mediaeval; he is the end of -the mediaeval development and the proper issue of the mediaeval genius. - -Yes, there is unity throughout the diversity of mediaeval life; and Dante -is the proof. For the elements of mediaeval growth combine in him, -demonstrating their congruity by working together in the stature of the -full-grown mediaeval man. When the contents of patristic Christianity and -the surviving antique culture had been conceived anew, and had been felt -as well, and novel forms of sentiment evolved, at last comes Dante to -possess the whole, to think it, feel it, visualize its sum, and make of it -a poem. He had mastered the field of mediaeval knowledge, diligently -cultivating parts of it, like the Graeco-Arabian astronomy; he thought and -reasoned in the terms and assumptions of scholastic (chiefly -Thomist-Aristotelian) philosophy; his intellectual interests were -mediaeval; he felt the mediaeval reverence for the past, being impassioned -with the ancient greatness of Rome and the lineage of virtue and authority -moving from it to him and thirteenth-century Italy and the already -shattered Holy Roman Empire. He took earnest joy in the Latin Classics, -approaching them from mediaeval points of view, accepting their contents -uncritically. He was affected with the preciosity of courtly or chivalric -love, which Italy had made her own along with the songs of the Troubadours -and the poetry of northern France. His emotions flowed in channels of -current convention, save that they overfilled them; this was true as to -his early love, and true as to his final range of religious and poetic -feeling. His was the emotion and the cruelty of mediaeval religious -conviction; while in his mind (so worked the genius of symbolism) every -fact's apparent meaning was clothed with the significance of other modes -of truth. - -Dante was also an Italian of the period in which he lived; and he was a -marvellous poet. One may note in him what was mediaeval, what was -specifically Italian, and what, apparently, was personal. This scholar -could not but draw his education, his views of life and death, his -dominant inclinations and the large currents of his purpose, from the -antecedent mediaeval period and the still greater past which had worked -upon it so mightily. His Italian nature and environment gave point and -piquancy and very concrete life to these mediaeval elements; and his -personal genius produced from it all a supreme poetic creation. - -The Italian part of Dante comes between the mediaeval and the personal, as -species comes between the genus and the individual. The tremendous feeling -which he discloses for the Roman past seems, in him, specifically Italian: -child of Italy, he holds himself a Latin and a direct heir of the -Republic. Yet often his attitude toward the antique will be that of -mediaeval men in general, as in his disposition to accept ancient myth for -fact; while his own genius appears in his beautifully apt appropriation of -the Virgilian incident or image; wherein he excels his "Mantuan" master, -whose borrowings from Homer were not always felicitous. Frequently the -specifically Italian in Dante, his yearning hate of Florence, for example, -may scarcely be distinguished from his personal temper; but its civic -bitterness is different from the feudal animosities or promiscuous rages -which were more generically mediaeval. As a lighter example, there are -three lines in the fourth canto of the _Purgatorio_ which do not reflect -the Middle Ages, nor yet pertain to Dante's character, but are, we feel, -Italian. They are these: "Thither we drew; and there were persons who were -staying in the shadow behind the rock, as one through indolence sets -himself to stay." - -Again, Dante's arguments in the _De monarchia_[672] seem to be those of an -Italian Ghibelline. Yet beyond his intense realization of Italy's direct -succession to the Roman past, his reasoning is scholastic and mediaeval, -or springs occasionally from his own reflections. The Italian contribution -to the book tends to coalesce either with the general or the personal -elements. Dante argues that the rewards or fruits of virtue belonged to -the Roman people because of the pre-eminent virtue, high lineage, and -royal marriage-connections, of their ancestor Aeneas.[673] Here, of -course, the statements of Virgil are accepted literally, and one notes -that while the argument is mediaeval in its absurdity, it will be made -Italian in its application. Likewise his further arguments making for the -same conclusion, however Italianized in their pointing, are mediaeval, or -patristic, in their provenance: for example, that the Roman Empire was -divinely helped by miracles; that the divine arbitrament decided the -world-struggle or _duellum_ in its favour; and that Christ was born and -suffered legally to redeem mankind under the Empire's authority and -jurisdiction.[674] Moreover, in refuting the very mediaeval papal -arguments from "the keys," from "the two swords," and from the analogy of -the sun and moon, Dante himself reasons scholastically.[675] - -The _De vulgari eloquentia_ illustrates the difference between Dante -accepting and reproducing mediaeval views, and Dante thinking for himself. -In opening he speaks of mixing the stronger potions of others with the -water of his own talent, to make a beverage of sweetest hydromel--we have -heard such phrases before! Then the first chapters give the current ideas -touching the nature and origin of speech, and describe the confusion of -language at the building of Babel: each group of workmen engaged in the -same sort of work found themselves speaking a new tongue understood only -by themselves; while the sacred Hebrew speech endured with that seed of -Shem who had taken no part in the impious construction. After this -foolishness, the eighth chapter of Book I. becomes startlingly intelligent -as Dante discusses the contemporary Romance tongues of Europe and takes up -the _idioma_ which uses the particle _si_. Out of its many dialects he -detaches his thought of a _volgare_, a mother tongue, which shall be the -illustrious, noble, and courtly speech in Latium, and shall seem to be of -every Latian city and yet of none, and afford a standard by which the -speech of each city may be criticized. The mediaeval period offers no such -penetrating linguistic observation; and in the _De Vulgari Eloquentia_, as -in the _Convito_, Dante is deeply conscious of the worth of the Romance -vernacular. - -Written in the _volgare_, the style of the latter nondescript work bears -curious likeness to scientific Latin writing. The Latin scholastic thought -shows plainly through this involved and scholastic _volgare_, while the -scholastic substance is rendered in a scarcely altered medium. The -_Convito_ is indeed a curious work which one need not lament that Dante -did not carry out to its mediaeval interminableness in fourteen books. The -four that he wrote suffice to show its futility and apparent confusion in -conception and form. Besides incidentally explaining the thought of the -idyllic _Vita nuova_, it professed to be a commentary upon fourteen of -Dante's canzone, the meaning of which had been misunderstood. Indeed they -had been suspected of disclosing a passion bearing a morganatic -relationship to the love of Beatrice. Truly understood they referred to -that love which is the love of knowledge, philosophy to wit; and their -commentary should expound that, and might properly set forth the contents -of the Seven Liberal Arts and the higher divine reaches of knowledge. The -_Convito_ seems also to mark a stage in Dante's life: the time perhaps -when he turned, or imagined himself as turning, to philosophy for -consolation in youthful grief, or the time perhaps when his nature looked -coldly upon its early faith and sought to stay itself with rational -knowledge. The book might thus seem a _De consolatione philosophiae_, -after the temper, if not the manner, of Boethius' work, which then was -much in Dante's mind. Yet it was to be a setting forth of knowledge for -the ignorant, a sort of _Summa contra Gentiles_, as is hinted in the last -completed chapter. These three purposes fall in with the fact that the -work was apparently the expression of Dante's intellectual nature, and of -his spiritual condition between the experience of the _Vita nuova_ and the -time or state of the _Commedia_.[676] - -Certainly the _Convito_ gives evidence touching the writer's mental -processes and the interests of his mind. Except for its lofty advocacy of -the _volgare_ and its personal apologetic references, it contains little -that is not blankly mediaeval. And had it kept on to its completion, so as -to have become no torso, but a full _Summa_ or _Tesoro_ of liberal -knowledge, its whimsical form as a commentary upon canzone would have made -it one of the most bizarre of mediaeval compositions. One should not take -this most repellent of Dante's writings as an adequate expression of the -intellectual side of his nature; though a significant phrase may be drawn -from it: "Philosophy is a loving use of wisdom (_uno amoroso uso di -sapienza_) which chiefly is in God, since in Him is utmost wisdom, utmost -love, and utmost actuality."[677] A loving use of wisdom--with Dante the -pursuit of knowledge was no mere intellectual search, but a pilgrimage of -the whole nature, loving heart as well as knowing mind, and the working -virtues too. This pilgrimage is set forth in the _Commedia_, perhaps the -supreme creation of the Middle Ages, and a work that by reason of the -beautiful affinity of its speech with Latin,[678] exquisitely expressed -the matters which in Latin had been coming to formulation through the -mediaeval centuries. - -The _Commedia_ (_Inferno_, _Purgatorio_, _Paradiso_) is a _Summa_, a -_Summa salvationis_, a sum of saving knowledge. It is such just as surely -as the final work of Aquinas is a _Summa theologiae_. But Aquinas was the -supreme mediaeval theologian-philosopher, while Dante was the supreme -theologian-poet; and with both Aquinas and Dante, theology includes the -knowledge of all things, but chiefly of man in relation to God. Such was -the matter of the _divina scientia_ of Thomas, and such was the subject of -the _Commedia_, which was soon recognized as the _Divina Commedia_ in the -very sense in which Theology was the divine science. The _Summa_ of Thomas -was _scientia_ not only in substance, but in form; the _Commedia_ was -_scientia_, or _sapientia_, in substance, while in form it was a poem, the -epic of man the pilgrim of salvation. In every sense, Aristotelian and -otherwise, it was a work of art; and herein if we cannot compare it with a -_Summa_, we may certainly liken it to a Cathedral, which also was a work -of art and a _Summa salvationis_ wrought in stone. For a Cathedral--it is -the great French type we have in mind--was a _Summa_ of saving knowledge, -as well as a place for saving acts. And presenting the substance of -knowledge in the forms of art, very true art, the matter of which had long -been pondered on and loved or hated, the Cathedral in its feeling and -beauty, as well as in the order of its manifested thought, was a -_Commedia_; for it too was a poem with a happy ending, at least for those -who should be saved. - -The Cathedral had grown from dumb barrel-vaulted Romanesque to Gothic, -speaking in all the terms of sculpture and painted glass. It grew out of -its antecedents. The _Commedia_ rested upon the entire evolution of the -Middle Ages. Therein had lain its spiritual preparation. To be sure it had -its casual forerunners (_precursori_): narratives, real or feigned, of men -faring to the regions of the dead.[679] But these signified little; for -everywhere thoughts of the other life pressed upon men's minds: fear of it -blanched their hearts; its heavenly or hellish messengers had been seen, -and not a few men dreamed that they had walked within those gates and -witnessed clanging horrors or purgatorial pain. Heaven they had more -rarely visited. - -Dante gave little attention to any so-called "forerunners," save only two, -Paul and Virgil. The former was a warrant for the poet's reticence as to -the manner of his ascent to Heaven;[680] the latter supplied much of his -scheme of Hell. Yet there were one or two others possessed of some -affinity of soul with the great Florentine, who perhaps knew nothing of -them. One of these was Hildegard of Bingen, with her vision of the spirits -in the cloud, and her pungent sights of the bitterness of the pains of -hell.[681] Another sort of affinity is disclosed in the allegorical -_Anticlaudianus_ of Alanus de Insulis, in which Reason can take -_Prudentia_ just so far upon her heavenly journey, and then gives place to -Theology, even as Virgil, symbol of rational wisdom, gives place to -Beatrice at the summit of the Mount of Purgatory.[682] Dante might have -drawn still more enlightenment from the _De sacramentis_ of Hugo of St. -Victor, in which the rational basis of the universal scheme of things is -shown to lie in the principle of allegorical intendment. Yet one finds few -traces of Hugo in Dante except through Hugo's pupil, Richard, whose works -he had read. That such apt forerunners should scarcely have affected him -shows how he was taught and inspired, not by individuals, but by the -entire Middle Ages. - -One observes mediaeval characteristics in the _Commedia_ raised to a -higher power. The mediaeval period was marked by contrasts of quality and -of conduct such as cannot be found in the antique or the modern age. And -what other poem can vie with the _Commedia_ in contrasts of the beautiful -and the loathsome, the heavenly and the hellish, exquisite refinement of -expression and lapses into the reverse,[683] love and hate, pity and -cruelty, reverence and disdain? These contrasts not only are presented by -the story; they evince themselves in the character of the author. Many -scenes of the _Inferno_ are loathsome:[684] Dante's own words and conduct -there may be cruel and hateful[685] or show tender pity; and every reader -knows the poetic beauty which glorifies the _Paradiso_, renders lovely the -_Purgatorio_, and ever and anon breaks through the gloom of Hell. - -Another mediaeval quality, sublimated in Dante's poem, is that of -elaborate plan, intended symmetry of composition, the balance of one -incident or subject against another.[686] And finally one observes the -mediaeval inclusiveness which belongs to the scope and purpose of the -_Commedia_ as a _Summa_ of salvation. Dante brings in everything that can -illuminate and fill out his theme. Even as the _Summa_ of St. Thomas, so -the _Commedia_ must present a whole doctrinal scheme of salvation, and -leave no loopholes, loose ends, broken links of argument or explanation. - -The substance of the _Commedia_, practically its whole content of thought, -opinion, sentiment, had source in the mediaeval store of antique culture -and the partly affiliated, if not partly derivative, Latin Christianity. -The mediaeval appreciation of the Classics, and of the contents of ancient -philosophy, is not to be so very sharply distinguished from the attitude -of the fifteenth or sixteenth, nay, if one will, the eighteenth, century, -when the _Federalist_ in the young inchoately United States, and many an -orator in the revolutionary assemblies of France, quoted Cicero and -Plutarch as arbiters of civic expediency. Nevertheless, if we choose to -recognize deference to ancient opinion, acceptance of antique myth and -poetry as fact,[687] unbounded admiration for a shadowy and much distorted -ancient world, as characterizing the mediaeval attitude toward whatever -once belonged to Rome and Greece, then we must say that such also is -Dante's attitude, scholar as he was;[688] and that in his use of the -Classics he differed from other mediaeval men only in so far as above them -all he was a poet. - -Lines of illustrative examples begin with the opening canto of the -_Inferno_, where Dante addresses Virgil as _famoso saggio_, an appellative -strictly corresponding with the current mediaeval view of the "Mantuan." -Mediaeval also is the grouping of the great poets who rise to meet Virgil, -first Homer, then _Orazio satiro_, and Ovid and Lucan.[689] More narrowly -mediaeval, that is, pertaining particularly to the thirteenth century, is -Dante's profound reverence for the authority of Aristotle, _il maestro di -color che sanno_.[690] It may be that the poet's sense of the enormous, -_elect_, importance of Aeneas,[691] and his putting Rhipeus, most -righteous of the Trojans, as the fifth regal spirit in the Eagle's -eye,[692] belonged more especially to Dante as the Ghibelline author of -the _De monarchia_. But generically mediaeval was his acceptance of -antique myth for fact, a most curious instance of which is his referring -to the consuming of Meleager with the consuming of the brand, to -illustrate a point of physiological psychology.[693] Antique heroes, even -monsters, seem as real to him as the people of Scripture and history. It -is not, however, his mediaevalism, but his own greatness that enables him -to lift his treatment of them to the level of their presentation in the -Classics. Noble as an antique demigod is the damned Jason, silent and -tearless, among the scourged;[694] and Ulysses is as great in the tale he -tells from out the lambent flame as he was in the palace of Alcinoos, -telling the tale which Dante never read.[695] - -The poet, especially in the _Purgatorio_, constantly balances moral -examples alternately drawn from pagan and sacred story. This propensity -was quite mediaeval; for throughout the Middle Ages the antique authority -was used to fortify or parallel the Christian argument. Yet herein, as -always, Dante is Dante as well as a mediaeval man; and his moral examples, -for the aid of souls who are purging themselves for Heaven, are -interesting and curious enough. On the pavement of the first ledge of -Purgatory, Lucifer is figured falling from Heaven and Briareus transfixed -by the bolt of Jove; then Nimrod, Niobe, Saul, Arachne, Rehoboam, Eriphyle -and Sennacherib, the Assyrians routed after Holophernes' death, and Troy -in ashes.[696] On the third ledge, as instances of gentle forgivingness, -he sees in vision the Virgin Mary, and then appear Peisistratus (tyrant of -Athens) refusing to avenge himself, and Stephen asking pardon for his -slayers.[697] But the most wonderful instance of this combining of the -Christian and the antique, each at its height of feeling, occurs in the -thirtieth canto of the _Purgatorio_, where angels herald the appearance of -Beatrice with the chant, _Benedictus qui venis_, and, as they scatter -flowers, sing _Manibus o date lilia plenis_. This unison of the hail to -Christ upon His sacrificial entry into Jerusalem and the Virgilian -heartbreak over the young Marcellus, shows how Dante rose in his -combinings, and how potent an element of his imagination was the -antique.[698] - -Of course the plan of Hell reflects the sixth Book of the _Aeneid_, and -throughout the whole _Commedia_ the Virgilian phrase rises aptly to the -poet's lips. "Thou wouldst that I renew the desperate grief which presses -my heart even before I put it into words," says Ugolino, nearly as Aeneas -speaks to Dido.[699] And in the _Paradiso_ the power of the Dantesque -reminiscence rouses the reader, spiritually as it were, to emulate the -glorious ones who passed to Colchos.[700] A more desperate passage was the -lot of those who must drop from Acheron's bank into Charon's boat;--the -whole scene here is quite reminiscent of Virgil. The simile: - - "Quam multa in silvis auctumni frigore primo - Lapsa cadunt folia," - -is even beautified and made more pregnant with significance in Dante's - - "Come d'autunno si levan le foglie - L'una appresso dell'altra...."[701] - -On the other hand, the threefold attempt of Aeneas to embrace Anchises is -stripped of its beautiful dream-simile in Dante's use.[702] A lovelier bit -of borrowing is that of the quick springing up again of the rush, the -symbol of humility, _l'umile pianta_, with which the poet is girt before -proceeding up the Mount of Purgatory.[703] - -With Dante the pagan antique represented much that was philosophically -true, if not veritably divine. In his mind, apparently, the heathen good -stood for the Christian good, and the conflict of the heathen deities with -Titan monsters symbolized, if indeed it did not continue to make part of, -the Christian struggle against the power of sin.[704] We may be jarred by -the apostrophe: - - "... O sommo Giove, - Che fosti in terra per noi crucifisso."[705] - -But this is a kind of Christian-antique phrase by no means unexampled in -mediaeval poetry. And we feel the poetic breadth and beauty of the -invocation in which Apollo symbolizes or represents, exactly what we will -not presume to say, but at all events some veritable spiritual power, as -Minerva does, apparently, in another passage.[706] In such instances the -antique image which beautifies the poem is transfigured to a Christian -symbol, if it does not present actual truth. - -Yet however universally Dante's mind was solicited by the antique matter -and his poet's nature charmed, he was profoundly and mediaevally -Christian. The _Commedia_ is a mediaeval Christian poem. Its fabric, -springing from the life of earth, enfolds the threefold quasi-other world -of damned, of purging, and of finally purified, spirits. It is dramatic -and doctrinal. Its drama of action and suffering, like the narratives of -Scripture, offers literal fact, moral teaching, and allegorical or -spiritual significance. The doctrinal contents are held partly within the -poem's dramatic action and partly in expositions which are not fused in -the drama. Thus whatever else it is, the poem is a _Summa_ of saving -doctrine, which is driven home by illustrations of the sovereign good and -abysmal ill coming to man under the providence of God. One may perhaps -discern a twofold purpose in it, since the poet works out his own -salvation and gives precepts and examples to aid others and help truth and -righteousness on earth. The subject is man as rewarded or punished -eternally by God--says Dante in the letter to Can Grande. This subject -could hardly be conceived as veritable, and still less could it be -executed, by a poet who had no care for the effect of his poem upon men. -Dante had such care. But whether he, who was first and always a poet, -wrote the _Commedia_ in order to lift others out of error to salvation, or -even in order to work out his own salvation,--let him say who knows the -mind of Dante. No divination, however, is required to trace the course of -the saving teaching, which, whether dramatically exemplified or expounded -in doctrinal statement, is embodied in the great poem; nor is it hard to -note how Dante drew its substance from the mediaeval past. - -The _Inferno_, which is the most dramatic and realistic, "Dantesque," part -of the _Commedia_, and replete with terrestrial interest, is doctrinally -the least rich. Its doctrine chiefly lies in its scheme of punishment, or -divine vengeance, for different sins. Herein Dante followed no set series -like the seven deadly sins expiated in Purgatory. Neither the Church nor -authoritative writers had laid out the plan of Hell. Dante had in mind -Thomas Aquinas and Aristotle, also Cicero's _De officiis_,[707] and, -structurally, Virgil. His scheme also was affected by his own character, -situation, and aversions, and assuredly by the movement of its own -composition. At the mouth of Hell the worthless nameless ones and the -neutral angels receive their due. Then after the sad calm of the place of -the unbaptized and the great blameless heathen, the veritable Hell begins, -and the series of tortures unfold, the lightest being such as punish -incontinence, while the most awful are reserved for those fraudulent ones -who have betrayed a trust. Dante's power of presenting the humanly -loathsome does not let the progress of hellish torment fail in climax even -to the end, where Brutus, Cassius, and Judas are crunched in the dripping -mouths of Lucifer at the bottom of the lowest pit of Hell. - -The general idea of hell torments came to the poet from current beliefs -and authoritative utterances, ranging from the "outer darkness" of the -Gospel to the lurid oratory of St. Bernard. Dante's thoughts were drawn -generically from the stores of mediaeval convictions, approvals, and -imaginings: they were given to him by his epoch. Of necessity--innocently, -one may say--he made them into concrete realities because he was Dante. -Terrifying phrases and crude ghastliness were raised through his dramatic -power to living experiences. The reader goes through Hell, sees with his -own eyes, hears with his own ears, and stifles in the choking air. -Doubtless the narrative brought fear and contrition to the men of Dante's -time. But for us the disproportion of the vengeance to the crime, the -outrage of everlasting torments for momentary, even impulsive sin, is -shocking and preposterous.[708] The torments themselves present conditions -which become unthinkable when we try to conceive them as enduring -eternally. Human flesh, or implicated spirit could not last beneath them. -And as for our impulses, there is many a tortured soul with whom we would -keep company, for instance, with the excellent band of Sodomites--Priscian -(!) Brunetto Latini, and those three Florentines whose "honoured names" -the poet greets with reverence and affection.[709] One might even wish to -make a third in the flame which enwraps Diomede and Ulysses. In fact, -Dante's dramatic genius has brought the mediaeval hell to a _reductio ad -absurdum_, to our minds. - -The poet is of it too. He can pity those who touch his pity. And how great -he can be, how absolute. There is compacted in the story of Francesca all -that can be thought or felt over unhappy love. Yet Dante never doubts the -justice of the punishment he describes; sometimes he calmly or cruelly -approves. _Nel mio bel San Giovanni!_ How many thousands have quoted these -detached words to show the poet's love of his beautiful baptistery. But, -in fact, he refers to the little cylindrical places where stood the -baptizing priests, in order to bring home to the reader the size of the -holes in the burning rock from which protruded the quivering feet of -Simoniacs![710] It appears that the souls of all the damned will suffer -more when they shall again be joined to their bodies after the -resurrection.[711] - -The _Inferno_ fully exemplifies the doctrinal statement obscurely set over -the gate which shut out hope: moved by justice, the Trinity, "divine -power, supreme wisdom, primal love, created me (Hell) to endure -eternally." Dante follows this current authoritative opinion, stated by -Aquinas. Here one may repeat that Dante is the child of the Middle Ages, -rather than a disciple of any single teacher. If he follows Aquinas more -than any other scholastic, he follows Bonaventura also with breadth and -balance. These two, however, were themselves final results of lines of -previous development. Both were rational and also mystically -contemplative, though the former quality predominates in Thomas and the -latter in Bonaventura. And in Dante's poem, at the end of the _Paradiso_, -Theology, the rational apprehension of divine truth, gives place to -contemplation's loftier insight. Dante is kin to both these men; but when -he thinks, more frequently he thinks like Thomas, and the intellectual -realization of life is dominant with him. This was evident in the -_Convito_; and that the intellectual vision constitutes the substance of -the _Commedia_, becomes luminously apparent in the _Paradiso_.[712] It is -even suggested at the gate of Hell, within which the wretched people will -be seen, who have lost the good of the Intellect,[713] by which is meant -knowledge of God. - -The _Purgatorio_ presents more saving doctrine than the cantica of -damnation. Its Mount with the earthly paradise at the top, may have been -his own, but might have been taken from the Venerable Bede or Albertus -Magnus.[714] The ante-purgatory appears as a creation of the poet, -influenced by certain passages of the _Aeneid_ and by ancient disciplinary -practices which kept the penitents waiting outside the church.[715] The -teaching of the whole cantica relates to the purgation of pride, envy, -anger, _accidia_ (sloth), avarice, gluttony, lust. These are the seven -deadly sins whose _provenance_ is early monasticism.[716] Through their -purgation man is made pure and fit to mount to the stars. - -We shall not follow Dante through the _Purgatorio_ and _Paradiso_, or -observe in detail the teachings set forth and the sources whence they were -derived.[717] But a brief reference to the successive incidents and topics -of instruction will show how the _Commedia_ touches every key of saving -doctrine. The soul entering Purgatory goes seeking liberty from sin,[718] -and as a first lesson learns to detach itself from memories of the -damned.[719] It receives some slight suggestion of the limits of human -reason;[720] and is told that according to the correct teaching there is -one soul in man with several faculties.[721] It learns the risk of -repentance in the hour of death;[722] and the efficacy of the prayers of -others to help souls through their purifying expiation; also, that, after -death, souls can advance only by the aid of grace.[723] The symbolism of -the gate of Purgatory teaches the need of contrition and confession. Upon -the first ledge, the proud do penance, disciplined with examples of -humility, and through the Lord's Prayer are taught man's entire dependence -upon God. It is fitting that Pride should be the first sin expiated, since -it lies at the base of all sins in the Christian scheme. Much doctrine is -inculcated by the treatment of the different sins and the appositeness of -the hymns sung by the penitents.[724] - -Ascending the second ledge, Virgil, _i.e._ human reason, expounds the -first principles of the doctrine of that love which is of the Good.[725] -Next is set forth the theory of human free-will and the effect of the -spheres in directing human inclination--all in strict accord with the -teaching of Thomas;[726] and then, still in accord with Thomas, the fuller -nature of love (or desire) is expounded, and the allotment of purgatorial -pains in expiation of the various modes of evil desire or failure to love -aright.[727] These fitting pains are as a solace to the soul yearning to -accomplish its purgation.[728] Next, generation is explained, the creation -of the soul, and the manner of its existence after separation from the -body, according to dominant scholastic theories.[729] In the concluding -cantos of the _Purgatorio_, much Church doctrine is symbolically set forth -by the Mystic Procession and the rivers of the earthly paradise, Lethe and -Eunoe--the latter representing sacramental grace through which good works, -killed by later sins, are made to live again.[730] The earthly paradise -symbolizes the perfect happiness of life in the flesh, and the state -wherein man is fit to pass to the heavenly Paradise. - -Besides doctrine directly bearing on Salvation, the _Commedia_ contains -explanations by the way, needed to understand Dante's journey through the -earth and heavens, and give it verisimilitude. Apparently these -explanations were also intended to afford a sufficient knowledge of the -structure of the universe. The _Paradiso_ abounds in this kind of -information, largely physical and astronomical. Its first canto offers a -general statement, beautifully put, of the ordering of created things. In -this instance, the instruction is not exclusively astronomical or -physical,[731] but touches upon animated creatures, and follows Thomist -teaching. Another interesting instance is the explanation in the second -canto of the spots on the moon and then of the influence of the heavens. -Here the astronomical matter runs on into elucidations touching human -nature, even that human nature which is to be saved through saving -doctrine. In this way the Christian-Thomist-Dantesque scheme of knowledge -holds together. The _Commedia_ is the pilgrimage of the soul after all -wisdom, and includes, implicitly at least, the matter of the _Convito_. - -The _Paradiso_ contains the chief store of saving knowledge. It sets forth -the ultimate problems of human life and divine salvation, with due -emphasis laid upon the limitations of human understanding. Dante, -conscious of the strenuousness of his high argument, warns off all but the -chosen few. - -A first point learned in the heavenly voyage is that no soul in Paradise -desires aught save what it has; since such desire would contravene the -will of God. Paradise is everywhere in Heaven, though the divine grace -rains not upon all in one mode.[732] Beatified souls do not dwell in any -particular star, though Plato seems to say so. Scripture condescends to -figure the intelligible under the guise of sensible forms, as Plato may -have done.[733] Broken vows and their reparation are now considered. Then -the history of the Roman Eagle brings out the fact that Christ was -crucified under Tiberius and His death avenged by Titus, which leads on to -the explanation of the Fall and the Redemption, occupying the seventh -canto. The next offers comment upon the divine goodness and the diversity -of human lots; and shows how the bitter may rise from the sweet. With deep -consistency the poet exclaims against the insensate toilsome reasonings -through which mortals beat their wings downward, away from God.[734] - -In canto thirteen the reader is enlightened regarding the wisdom of Adam, -of Solomon, and of Christ; and then as to the existence of the beatified -soul before and after it is clothed with the glorified body of the -Resurrection.[735] Incidentally the justice of eternal punishment is -adverted to.[736] The depth of the divine righteousness is next -presented,[737] and its application to the heathen, with illustrations of -God's saving ways, in the instances of certain princes who loved -righteousness, including Trajan and the Trojan Rhipeus.[738] The -incomprehensibility of Predestination next receives attention. - -Now intervenes the marvellous and illuminative beauty of canto -twenty-three, preceding Dante's declaration of his creed, upon -interrogatories from the apostles, Peter, James, and John. In this way he -states the dogmatic fundamentals of the Christian Faith, and the -substantiating roles of philosophic argument and authority.[739] After -this, the vision of the hierarchies of angels leads on to discourse upon -their creation and nature, the immediate fall of those who fell, the -exaltation of the steadfast with added grace, and the mode and measure of -their knowledge. Thomas is followed in this scholastic argument. - -With the vision of the Rose, rational theology gives place to mystic -contemplation;[740] and further visions of the divine ordering precede the -prayer to the Virgin, with which the last canto opens--that prayer so -beautiful and so expressive of mediaeval thought and feeling as to the -most kind and blessed Lady of Heaven. This prayer or hymn is made of -phrases which the mediaeval mind and heart had been recasting and -perfecting for centuries. It is almost a great _cento_, like the _Dies -Irae_. After the Lady's answering benediction, there comes to Dante, in -grace, the final mystic vision of the Trinity, enfolding all -existence--substance, accidents and their modes, bound with love in one -volume. Supreme dogmatic truth is set forth, and the furthest strainings -of reason are stilled in supersensual and super-rational vision, which -satisfies all intellectual desire. This vision, vouchsafed through the -Virgin's grace, assures the pilgrim soul: the goal is reached alike of -knowledge and salvation. - -One may say that the _Commedia_ begins and ends with the Virgin. It was -she who sent Beatrice into the gates of Hell to move Virgil--meaning human -reason--to go to Dante's aid. The prayer which obtains her benediction, -and the vision following, close the _Paradiso_. So the teaching of the -poem ends in mediaeval strains. For the Virgin was the mediaeval goddess, -beloved and universally adored, helpful in every way, and the chief aid in -bringing man to Heaven. But no more with Dante than with other mediaeval -men is she the end of worship and devotion. Her eyes are turned on God. -So are those of Beatrice, of Rachel, and of all the saints in Paradise. As -for man on earth, he is _viator_, journeying on through discipline, in -righteousness and beneficence, but above all in faith and hope and love of -God, with his eyes of knowledge and desire set on God. God is the goal, -even of the _vita activa_, which is also training and enlightenment. -Loving his brother whom he hath seen, man may learn to love -God--practising himself in love. Even Christ's parable, "Inasmuch as ye -did it unto one of the least of these," rightly interpreted, implies that -the end of human charity is God: the human charity is preparation, -obedience, means of enlightenment. The brother for whom Christ died--that -is he whom thou shalt love, and that is why thou shalt love him. In -themselves human relationships are disciplinary, ancillary, as all the -sciences are ancillary to Theology. Mediaeval religion is turned utterly -toward God; the relationship of the soul to God is its whole matter. It is -not humanitarian: not human, but _divina scientia, fides, et amor_, make -mediaeval Christianity. Thus Dante's doctrine is mediaeval. Toward God -moves the desire of the _viatores_ in Purgatory, though they still are -incidentally mindful of earth's memories. In Paradise the eyes of all the -blessed are set on Him. Because of the divine love they may for a moment -turn the eyes of their knowledge and desire to aid a fellow-creature; the -occasion past, they fix them again on God: thus the Virgin, thus Bernard, -thus Beatrice. - -As a son of the Middle Ages, Dante was possessed with the spirit of -symbolism. Allegory, with him, was not merely a way of expressing that -which might transcend direct statement: it embodied a principle of truth. -The universally accepted allegorical interpretation of Scripture justified -the view that a deeper verity lay in allegorical significance than in -literal meaning. This principle applied to other writings also. "Now since -the literal sense [of the first canzone] is sufficiently explained, it is -time to proceed to the allegorical and true interpretation."[741] - -In the _Vita Nuova_ and somewhat more lifelessly in the _Convito_, Dante -explains that it is his way to invest his poetry with a secondary or -allegorical sense. He proposes in the latter work to carry out the formal -notion of the four kinds of meaning contained in profound -writings--literal, allegorical, moral, anagogical.[742] He never holds -himself, however, to the lines of any such obsession, but is content in -practice with the literal and the broadly allegorical sense.[743] Even -then the great Florentine occasionally can be jejune enough. The -conception of the ten heavens figuring the Seven Liberal Arts along with -metaphysics, ethics, and theology, as a plan of composition for the -_Convito_,[744] was on a level with the structural symbolism of the _De -nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii_ of Capella. Yet the likening of Ethics to -the _primum mobile_ and Theology to the Empyrean has bearing on Dante's, -and the mediaeval, scheme of the sciences, among which Theology is chief. - -Allegory moulds the structure and permeates the substance of the -_Commedia_. For this Dante himself vouches in the famous dedicatory letter -to Can Grande, where his thoughts may be heard creaking scholastically, as -he describes the nature of his poem, and explains why he entitled it -_Commedia_: - - "Literally, the subject is the state of souls after death taken - simply. If, however, the work be accepted allegorically, the subject - is man, according as by merit or demerit through freedom of choice - (_arbitrii libertatem_) he is subject to Justice, rewarding or - punitive." - -This is the positive statement emanating, in all probability, from the -poet. Perhaps it is as well that he did not live to inaugurate the series -of Commentaries upon his poem, which began within a few years of his death -and show no signs of ceasing.[745] So it has been left to others to -determine the metes and bounds and special features of the _Commedia's_ -allegorical intent. The task has proved hazardous, because Dante was such -a great poet, so realistic in his visualizing and so masterful in forcing -the different phases of his many-sided thoughts to combine in concrete -creations. His drama is so living that one can hardly think it an -allegory. - -Evidently certain matters, like the Mystic Procession and its apocalyptic -appurtenances in the last cantos of the _Purgatorio_, are sheer allegory. -Such, while suited to suggest theological tenets, are formal and lifeless, -a little like the hieratic allegorical mosaics of the fourth and fifth -centuries, which were composed before Christian art had become imbued with -Christian feeling.[746] Indeed, doffing for an instant one's reverence for -the great poet, one may say that from the point of view of art and life, -Dante's symbolism becomes jejune, or at least ceases to draw us, according -as it becomes palpable allegory.[747] - -Beyond such incidents one recognizes that the general course of the poem, -its more pointed occurrences, together with its chief characters and the -scenes amid which they move, have commonly both literal and allegorical -meaning.[748] Usually it is wise not to press either side too rigorously. -The poet's mind worked in the clearly imagined setting and dramatic action -of his poem, where fact and symbolism combined in that reality which is -both art and life. Surely the _Commedia_ was completed and rendered real -and beautiful through many a touch and incident which had no allegorical -intent. Even as in a French cathedral, the main sculptured and painted -subjects have doctrinal, that is to say, allegorical, significance, -besides their literal truth; but there is also much lovely carving of -scroll and flowered ornament and beast and bird, which beautifies the -building. - -For Dante's purpose, to set out the state of disembodied spirits after -death, allegory might prove prejudicial, because of the intensity of his -artist's vision. Much of the poem's symbolism, especially in the -_Paradiso_, belongs to that unavoidable imagery to which every one is -driven when attempting to describe spiritual facts. Such symbolism, -however, when constructed with the plastic power of a Dante, may become -itself so convincing or compelling as to reduce the intended spiritual -signification to the terms of its concrete embodiment in the symbol. In -view of the carnality of most sin, one is not surprised to find the place -of punishment a converging cavity within the earth. With Dante, as with -Hildegard, the sights and torments of Hell are realistically given quite -as of course. Perhaps Dante's Mount of Purgatory begins to give us pause, -and its corniced _mise en scene_ tends to enflesh the idea of spirit and -materialize its purgation. But the limiting effect of symbolism is most -keenly felt in the _Paradiso_, notwithstanding the beauty of that cantica; -for its very concrete symbolism seems sometimes to ensphere the intended -truths of spirit in a sort of crystalline translucency. It is all a -marvellously imagined description of the state of blessed souls. Yet in -the final pure and glorious image of a white rose (_candida rosa_) the -company of the glorified spirits is so visualized as to become, surely not -theatrical, but as if assembled upon the rounding tiers of seats occupied -by an audience.[749] There are topics in which the sheer ratiocination of -Thomas is more completely spiritual than the poetic vision of Dante. - -Dante's most admirable symbolic creation was also his dearest -reality--Beatrice. And while this being in which he has immortalized his -fame and hers, is eminently the creation of his genius, the elements were -drawn from the many-chambered mediaeval past. Some issued out of the vast -matter of chivalric love, with its high heart of service and sense of its -own worth, its science, its foolish and most wise reasoning, its -preciosity of temper--Dante and his literary friends were virtuosos in -everything pertaining to its understanding.[750] This love was of the -fine-reasoning mind. The first canzone of the _Vita Nuova_ does not begin -"Donne, che sentite amore," but: "Donne, ch' avete intelletto d' amore." -Through that book love is what it never ceases to be with Dante, -_intelligenza_: - - "Intelligenza nuova, che l' Amore - Piangendo mette in lui...." - -The _piangendo_, the tears, have likewise part; without them love is not -had or even understood. The enormous sense of love's supreme worth--that -too is in Dante. It had all been with the Troubadours of Provence, with -Chretien de Troies, and with the great Minnesingers, and had been reasoned -on, appreciated, felt and wept over, by ladies and knights who listened to -their poems. From France and Provence love and its reasonings had come to -Italy even before Dante's eyes had opened to it and other matters. - -This was one strain that entered the Beatrice of the _Vita Nuova_, of the -_Convito_, of the _Commedia_. But Beatrice is something else: she is, or -becomes, Theology, the God-given science of the divine and human. Long had -Theologia (_divina scientia_) been a queen; and even before her, -Philosophia, as with Boethius, had been a queenly woman gowned with as -full symbolical particularity as ever the Beatrice of Dante. Indeed from -the time of the _Psychomachia_ of Prudentius to the _Roman de la Rose_ of -De Lorris and De Meun, every human quality, and many an aspect of human -circumstance, had been personified, for the most part under the forms of -gracious or seductive women. Above all of these rose, sweet, gracious, and -potent, the Virgin Queen of Heaven. It came as of course to Dante to -symbolize his conception of divine wisdom in a woman's form. The -achievement of his genius was the transfusing combination of elements of -courtly love, didactic allegory, and _divina scientia_, in a creature -before whom the whole man Dante, heart and reason and religious faith, -could stand and gaze and love and worship. - -Beatrice was his and of him always; but with the visions and experience -of that mature and grace-illuminated manhood, which expressed itself in -the _Commedia_, she comes to be much that she had not been when she lived -on earth or had just left it, and Dante was a maker of exquisite verses in -Florence; and much too that she had scarce become while the poet was -consoling himself with philosophy for his bereavement and the dulling of -his early faith. Beatrice lives and moves and has her ever more uplifted -being as the reality as well as symbol of Dante's thoughts of life. With -all first love's idealism, he loved a girl; then she, having passed from -earth, becomes the inspiration and object of address of the young maker of -sonnets and canzoni, who with such intellectual preciosity was intent on -building these verses of fine-spun sentiment. Thereafter, when he is in -darker mood, she does not altogether leave him, whatever variant attitudes -his thought and temper take. And at last the yearning self-fulfilments of -his renewed life draw together in the Beatrice of the _Commedia_. - -It is very beautiful, and the growth, as well as work, of genius; but it -is not strange. For there is no bound to the idealizing of the love which -first transfuses a youth's nature with a mortal golden flame, and awakens -it to new understanding. Out of whatever of experience of life and joy and -sorrow may come to the man, this first love may still vivify itself -anew--often in dreams--and become again living and beautiful, in tears, -and will awaken new perceptions and disclose further vistas of the -_intelligenza nuova_ which love never ceases to impart to him who has -loved. - -Dante's mind was always turning from the obvious sense-actuality of the -fact to its symbolism; which held the truer reality. With such a man it is -not strange that the beloved and adored woman, the love of whom was virtue -and enlightenment, should, when dead to earth, become that divine wisdom -which opens Heaven to the lover who would follow, for all eternity, -whither his beloved has so surely gone. No, it was not strange, but only -as wonderful as all the works of God, that she who while living had been -the spring of virtue of all kinds and meanings in the poet's breast, -should after death become the emblem, even the reality, of that whereby -man is taught how to win his heavenly salvation. Passage after passage in -the _Purgatorio_ and _Paradiso_ show that Beatrice is this _divina -scientia_, and yet has never ceased to be one whom the poet loves.[751] - -Thus it is clear that mediaeval development converges at last in Dante. -He, or his _Commedia_, might be the final _Summa_, were not he, or rather -it, the final poem. Man and work include the emotions and the intellectual -interests of the Middle Ages, embracing what had been known,--Physics, -Astronomy, Politics, History, Pagan Mythology, Christian Theology,--all -bent and moulded at last to the matter of the book. Not the contents of -the _Commedia_ is Dante's own, but the poem itself--that is his creation. - -Yet even the poem itself was a climax long led up to. The power of its -feeling had been preparing in the conceptions, even in the reasonings, -which through the centuries had been gaining ardour as they became part of -the entire natures of men and women. Thus had mediaeval thought become -emotionalized and plastic and living in poetry and art. Otherwise, even -Dante's genius could not have fused the contents of mediaeval thought into -a poem. How many passages in the _Commedia_ illustrate this--like the -lovely picture of Lia moving in the flowering meadow, with her fair hands -making her a garland. The twenty-third canto of the _Paradiso_, telling of -the triumph of Christ and the Virgin, yields a larger illustration; and -within it, as a very concrete lyric instance, floats that flower of -angelic love, the song of Gabriel circling the Lady of Heaven with its -melody, and giving quintessential utterance to the love and adoration -which the Middle Ages had intoned to the Virgin. Yes, if it be Dante's -genius, it is also the gathering emotion of the centuries, which lifts the -last cantos of the _Paradiso_ from glory to glory, and makes this closing -singing of the _Commedia_ such supreme poetry. Nor is it the emotional -element alone that reaches its final voice in Dante. Passage after passage -of the _Paradiso_ is the apotheosis of scholastic thought and ways of -stating it, the very apotheosis, for example, of those harnessed phrases -in which the line of great scholastics had endeavoured to put in words -the universalities of substance and accident and the absolute qualities -of God. - -Yet one more feature of Dante's typifying inclusiveness of the past. Its -elements exist in him at first without conscious opposition and yet not -subordinated one to another, the less worthy to those of eternal validity. -Then conflict arises; the mediaeval Psychomachia awakes in Dante. -Evidently he who wrote the _Convito_ after the _Vita Nuova_, had not -continued spiritually undisturbed. Had there come dullings of his early -faith? Did his mind seek too exclusive satisfaction in knowledge? Had he -possibly swerved a little from some high intention? The facts are veiled. -Dante wears neither his mind nor his heart upon his sleeve. Yet a -reconcilement was attained by him, though perhaps he had to fetch it out -of Hell. He achieved it in his great poem, which in its long making made -the poet into the likeness of itself. Fitness for salvation is the -ultimate criterion with Dante respecting the elements of mortal life, as -it had been through the Middle Ages. And the _Commedia_--truly the _Divina -Commedia_--while it presents the scheme of salvation for universal man, is -the achieved salvation of the poet. - - - - -INDEX - -_NOTE.--Of several references to the same matter the more important are -shown by heavy type._ - - - Abaelard, Peter, career of, ii. 342-5; - at Paris, ii. 343, 344, 383; - popularity there, ii. 119; - love for Heloise, ii. 4-=5=, 344; - love-songs, ii. =13=, 207; - Heloise's love for, i. 585; ii. =3=, =5=, 8, 9, =15-16=; - early relations with Heloise, ii. 4-5; - suggestion of marriage opposed by her, ii. 6-9; - marriage, ii. 9; - suffers vengeance of Fulbert, ii. 9; - becomes a monk at St. Denis, ii. 10; - at the Paraclete, ii. 10, 344; - at Breton monastery, ii. 10; - St. Bernard's denunciations of, i. 229, 401; ii. =344-5=, =355=; - letters to, from Heloise quoted, ii. 11-15, 17-20, 23, 24; - letters from, to Heloise quoted, ii. 16-17, 21-3, 24-5; - closing years at Cluny, ii. 25, =26=, 345; - death of, ii. =27=, 345; - estimate of, ii. 4, 342; - rationalizing temper, i. 229; ii. =298-9=; - skill in dialectic, ii. 303, =345-6=, 353; - not an Aristotelian, ii. 369; - works on theology, ii. 352-5; - _De Unitate et Trinitate divina_, ii. 10, =298-9=, 352 _and_ _n. 3_; - _Theologia_, ii. =303-4=, 395; - _Scito te ipsum_, ii. 350-1; - _Sic et non_, i. 17; ii. =304-6=, =352=, 357; - _Dialectica_, ii. 346 _and_ _nn._, 349-50; - _Dialogue_ between Philosopher, Jew, and Christian, ii. 350, =351=; - _Historia calamitatum_, ii. =4-11=, 298-9, =343=; - _Carmen ad Astralabium filium_, ii. 192; - hymns, ii. 207-9; - otherwise mentioned, ii. 134, 283 _and_ _n._ - - Abbo, Abbot, i. =294 and n.=, 324 - - Abbots: - Armed forces, with, i. 473 - Cistercian, position of, i. 362-3 _and_ _n._ - Investiture of, lay, i. 244 - Social class of, i. 473 - - Accursius, _Glossa ordinaria_ of, ii. 262, =263= - - Adalberon, Abp. of Rheims, i. 240, =282-3=, 287 - - Adam of Marsh, ii. 389, 400, 487 - - Adam of St. Victor, editions of hymns of, ii. 87 _n. 1_; - examples of the hymns, ii. 87 _seqq._; - Latin originals, ii. 206, 209-15 - - Adamnan cited, i. 134 _n. 2_, 137 - - Adelard of Bath, ii. 370 - - Aedh, i. 132 - - Agobard, Abp. of Lyons, i. 215, =232-3=; - cited, ii. 247 - - Aidan, St., i. 174 - - Aimoin, _Vita Abbonis_ by, i. 294 _and_ _n._ - - Aix, Synod of, i. 359 - - Aix-la-Chapelle: - Chapel at, i. 212 _n._ - School at, _see_ Carolingian period--Palace school - - Alans, i. 113, 116, 119 - - Alanus de Insulis, career of, ii. 92-4; - estimate of, ii. 375-6; - works of, ii. 48 _n. 1_, =94=, 375 _n. 5_, 376; - _Anticlaudianus_, ii. =94-103=, 192, 377, 539; - _De planctu naturae_, ii. =192-3 and n. 1=, 376 - - Alaric, i. 112 - - Alaric II., i. =117=; ii. 243 - - Alberic, Card., i. 252 _n. 2_ - - Alberic, Markgrave of Camerino, i. 242 - - Alberic, son of Marozia, i. 242-3 - - Albertus Magnus, career of, ii. 421; - estimate of, ii. 298, 301, =421=; - estimate of work of, ii. 393, 395; - attitude toward Gilbert de la Porree, ii. 372; - compared with Bacon, ii. 422; - with Aquinas, ii. 433, =438=; - relations with Aquinas, ii. 434; - on logic, ii. 314-15; - method of, ii. 315 _n._; - edition of works, ii. 424 _n. 1_; - _De praedicabilibus_, ii. 314 and _n._, 315, 424-5; - work on the rest of Aristotle, ii. 420-1; - analysis of this work, ii. 424 _seqq._; - attitude toward the original, ii. 422; - _Summa theologiae_, ii. 430, 431; - _Summa de creaturis_, ii. 430-1; - _De adhaerendo Deo_, ii. 432; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17; ii. 82 _n. 2_, 283, 312, 402, 541 _n. 2_ - - Albigenses, i. 49; - persecution of, i. 366-7, 461, 481, 572; ii. 168 - - Alboin the Lombard, i. 115 - - Alchemy, ii. 496-7 - - Alcuin of York, career of, i. 214; - works of, i. 216-21 _and_ _n. 2_; - extracts from letters of, ii. 159; - stylelessness of, ii. =159=, 174; - verses by, quoted, ii. 136-7; - on _urbanitas_, ii. 136; - otherwise mentioned, i. 212, 240, 343; ii. 112, 312, 332 - - Aldhelm, i. 185 - - Alemanni, i. 9, 121, 122, 145 _n. 2_, 174, 192 - - Alemannia, Boniface's work in, i. 199 - - Alexander the Great, Pseudo-Callisthenes' Life of, ii. 224, 225, - =229-230=; - Walter of Lille's work on, ii. 230 _n. 1_ - - Alexander II., Pope, i. 262 _n._, 263 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Alexander de Villa-Dei, _Doctrinale_ of, ii. =125-7=, 163 - - Alexander of Hales--at Paris, i. 476; ii. =399=; - Bacon's attack on, ii. 494, 497; - estimate of work of, ii. 393, 395, 399; - Augustinianism of, ii. 403-4 - - Alfred, King of England, i. 144 _and_ _n. 2_, =187-90= - - Allegory (_See also_ Symbolism): - Dictionaries of, ii. 47-8 _and_ _n. 1_, 49 - Greek examples of, ii. 42, 364 - Metaphor distinguished from, ii. 41 _n._ - Politics, in, ii. 60-1, 275-=6=, =280= - _Roman de la rose_ as exemplifying, ii. 103 - Scripture, _see under_ Scriptures - Two uses of, ii. 365 - - Almsgiving, i. 268 - - Alphanus, i. 253-4 - - _Amadas_, i. 565 - - Ambrose, St., Abp. of Milan, on miracles, i. 85-6; - attitude toward secular studies, i. 300; ii. 288; - _Hexaemeron_ of, i. 72-4; - _De officiis_, i. 96; - hymns, i. 347-8; - otherwise mentioned, i. 70, 75, 76, 104, 186, 354; ii. 45 _n._, 272 - - Anacletus II., Pope, i. 394 - - Anchorites, _see_ Hermits - - Andrew the Chaplain, _Flos amoris_ of, i. 575-6 - - Angels: - Aquinas' discussion of, ii. 324-5, 435, =457 seqq.=, =469=, =473-5= - Dante's views on, ii. 551 - Emotionalizing of conception of, i. 348 _n. 4_ - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 68, 69 - Symbols, regarded as, ii. 457 - Vincent's _Speculum_ as concerning, ii. 319 - Writings regarding, summary of, ii. 457 - - Angilbert, i. 234-5 - - Angles, i. 140 - - Anglo-Saxons: - Britain conquered by, i. 141 - Characteristics of, i. 142, =196= - Christian missions by, i. 196, 197 - Christian missions to, i. 172, 174, =180 seqq.= - Customs of, i. 141 - Poetry of, i. 142-4 - Roman influence slight on, i. 32 - - Aniane monastery, i. 358-9 - - Annals, i. 234 and _n. 1_ - - Anselm (at Laon), ii. 343-4 - - Anselm, St., Abp. of Canterbury, dream of, i. 269-70; - early career, i. 270; - at Bec, i. 271-2; - relations with Rufus, i. 273, 275; - journey to Italy, i. 275; - estimate of, i. 274, =276-7=; ii. =303=, 330, =338=; - style of, i. 276; ii. =166-7=; - influence of, on Duns Scotus, ii. 511; - works of, i. 275 _seqq._; - _Cur Deus homo_, i. 275, 277 _n. 1_, =279=; ii. 395; - _Monologion_, i. 275-7; - _Proslogion_, i. 276-8; ii. =166=, 395; - _Meditationes_, i. 276, =279=; - _De grammatico_, i. 277 _n. 2_; - otherwise mentioned, i. 16, 19, 301-2; ii. 139, 283, 297, 340 - - Anselm of Besate, i. 259 - - Anthony, St., i. 365-6; - Life of, by Athanasius, i. 47, =52 and n.= - - Antique literature, _see_ Greek thought _and_ Latin classics - - Antique stories, themes of, in vernacular poetry, ii. 223 _seqq._ - - Apollinaris Sidonius, ii. 107 - - Apollonius of Tyana, i. 44 - - _Apollonius of Tyre_, ii. 224 _and_ _n._ - - Aquinas, Thomas, family of, ii. 433-4; - career, ii. 434-5; - relations with Albertus Magnus, ii. 434; - translations of Aristotle obtained by, ii. 391; - _Vita_ of, by Guilielmus de Thoco, ii. 435 _n._; - works of, ii. 435; - estimate of, and of his work, i. 17, 18; ii. 301, =436-8=, 484; - completeness of his philosophy, ii. 393-5; - pivot of his attitude, ii. 440; - present position of, ii. 501; - style, ii. 180; - mastery of dialectic, ii. 352; - compared with Eriugena, i. 231 _n. 1_; - with Albertus Magnus, ii. 433, =438=; - with Bonaventura, ii. 437; - with Duns, ii. 517; - Dante compared with and influenced by, ii. 541 _n. 2_, =547=, 549, - 551, 555; - on monarchy, ii. 277; - on faith, ii. 288; - on difference between philosophy and theology, ii. 290; - on logic, ii. 313; - _Summa theologiae_, i. 17, 18; ii. =290 seqq.=; - style of the work, ii. 180-1; - Bacon's charge against it, ii. 300; - Peter Lombard's work contrasted with it, ii. 307-10; - its method, ii. 307; - its classification scheme, ii. 324-9; - analysis of the work, ii. 438 _seqq._, 447 _seqq._; - _Summa philosophica contra Gentiles_, ii. 290, 438, =445-6=; - otherwise mentioned, i. 69 _n. 2_; ii. 283, 298, 300, 312, 402 - - Aquitaine, i. 29, 240, =573= - - Arabian philosophy, ii. =389-90=, 400-1 - - Arabs, Spanish conquest by, i. 9, 118 - - Archimedes, i. 40 - - Architecture, Gothic: - Evolution of, i. 305; ii. =539= - Great period of, i. 346 - - Argenteuil convent, ii. 9, 10 - - Arianism: - Teutonic acceptance of, i. =120=, 192, 194 - Visigothic abandonment of, i. 118 _nn._ - - Aristotle, estimate of, i. 37-8; - works of, i. 37-8; - unliterary character of writings of, ii. 118, 119; - philosophy as classified by, ii. 312; - attitude of, to discussions of final cause, ii. 336; - the _Organon_, i. =37=, 71; - progressive character of its treatises, ii. 333-4; - Boethius' translation of the work, i. 71, =91-2=; - advanced treatises "lost" till 12th cent., ii. 248 _n._, 334; - Porphyry's _Introduction_ to the _Categories_, i. 45, 92, 102; - ii. 312, =314 n.=, 333, =339=; - Arabian translations of works, ii. 389-90; - introduction of complete works, i. 17; - Latin translations made in 13th cent., ii. 391; - three stages in scholastic appropriation of the Natural Philosophy and - Metaphysics, ii. 393; - Paris University study of, ii. 391-2 _and_ _n._; - Albertus Magnus' work on, ii. 420-1, 424 _seqq._; - Aquinas' mastery of, i. 17, 18; - Dominican acceptance of system of, ii. 404; - Dante's reverence for, ii. 542 - - Arithmetic: - Abacus, the, i. 299 - Boethius' work on, i. 72, =90= - Music in relation to, ii. 291 - Patristic treatment of, i. 72 - Scholastic classification of, ii. 313 - - Arnold of Brescia, i. 401; ii. 171 - - Arnulf, Abp. of Rheims, i. 283-4 - - Art, Christian (_For particular arts, see their names_): - Demons as depicted in, ii. 540 _n. 2_ - Early, i. 345 _n._ - Emotionalizing of, i. 345-7 - Evolution of, i. 19-20 - Germany, in (11th cent.), i. 312 - Symbolism the inspiration of, i. 21; ii. 82-6 - - Arthur, King, story of youth of, i. 568-569; - relations with Lancelot and Guinevere, i. 584; - with Parzival, i. 592, 599-600, 612 - - Arthurian romances: - Comparison of, with _Chansons de geste_, i. 564-5 - German culture influenced by, ii. 28 - Origin and authorship of, question as to, i. 565-7 - Universal vogue of, i. =565=, 573, 577 - otherwise mentioned, i. 531, 538 - - Arts, the (_See also_ Latin classics): - Classifications of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - Course of, shortening of, ii. =132=, 384 - _Dictamen_, ii. =121=, =129=, 381 - Grammar, _see that heading_ - Masters in, at Paris and Oxford, ii. 384-5; - course for, ii. 388 - Seven Liberal, _see that heading_ - - Asceticism: - Christian: - Carthusian, i. 384 - Early growth of, i. 333-5 - Manichean, i. 49 - Women's practice of, i. 444, 462-3 - Neo-Platonic, i. 43, 44, 46, 50, =331=, 334 - - Astralabius, ii. 6, 9, 27; - Abaelard's poem to, ii. 191-2 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Astrology, i. =44 and n.=; ii. 374: - Bacon's views on, ii. 499-500 - - Astronomy: - Chartres study of, i. 299 - Gerbert's teaching of, i. 288-9 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 72 - - Ataulf, i. 112, 116 - - Athanasius, St., estimate of work of, i. =54=, 68; - Life of St. Anthony by, i. 47, =52 and n.=, 84; - _Orationes_, i. 68 - - Atlantis, i. 36 - - Attila the Hun, i. 112-13; - in legend, i. 145-7 - - Augustine, Abp. of Canterbury, i. 6, 171, =180-2=; - Gregory's letters to, cited, i. 102 - - Augustine, St., Bp. of Hippo, Platonism of, i. 55; - personal affinity of, with Plotinus, i. 55-7; - barbarization of, by Gregory the Great, i. 98, 102; - compared with Gregory the Great, i. 98-9; - with Anselm, i. 279; - with Guigo, i. 385, 390; - overwhelming influence of, in Middle Ages, ii. 403; - on numbers, i. 72 _and_ _n. 2_, 105; - attitude toward physical science, i. 300; - on love of God, i. 342, 344; - allegorizing of Scripture by, ii. 44-5; - modification by, of classical Latin, ii. 152; - _Confessions_, i. =63=; ii. 531; - _De Trinitate_, i. =64=, =68=, 74, 96; - _Civitas Dei_, i. 64-65, 69 _n. 2_, =81-82=; - _De moribus Ecclesiae_, i. 65, 67-8; - _De doctrina Christiana_, i. 66-7; - classification scheme based on the _Doctrina_, ii. 322; - _De spiritu et littera_, i. 69; - _De cura pro mortuis_, i. 86; - _De genesi ad litteram_, ii. 324; - Alcuin's compends of works of, i. 220; - otherwise mentioned, i. 5, 53, 71, 75, 82, 87, 89, 104, 186, 225, 340, - 354, 366, 370; ii. 107, 269, 297, 312 - - Augustus, Emp., i. 26, 29 - - Aurillac monastery, i. 281 - - Ausonius, i. 126 _n. 2_; ii. 107 - - Austrasia: - Church organization in, i. 199 - Feudal disintegration of, i. 240 - Irish monasteries founded in, i. 174 - Rise of, under Pippin, i. 209 - - Authority _v._ reason, _see_ Reason - - Auxerre, i. 506-7 - - Averroes, ii. 390 - - Averroism, ii. 400-1 - - Averroists, ii. =284 n.=, 296 _n. 1_ - - Avicenna, ii. 390 - - Avitus, Bp. of Vienne, i. 126 _n. 2_ - - Azo, ii. 262-3 - - - Bacon, Roger, career of, ii. 486-7 - tragedy of career, ii. 486; - relations with Franciscan Order, ii. 299, 486, =488=, 490-1; - encouragement to, from Clement IV., ii. 489-90 _and_ _n. 1_; - estimate of, ii. 484-6; - estimate of work of, ii. 402; - style of, ii. 179-80; - attitude toward the classics, ii. 120; - predilection for physical science, ii. 289, 486-7; - Albertus Magnus compared with, ii. 422; - on four causes of ignorance, ii. 494-5; - on seven errors in theological study, ii. 495-8; - on experimental science, ii. 502-8; - on logic, ii. 505; - on faith, ii. 507; - editions of works of, ii. 484 _n._; - Greek Grammar by, ii. =128= _and_ _n. 5_, 484 _n._, 487, 498; - _Multiplicatio specierum_, ii. 484 _n._, 500; - _Opus tertium_, ii. =488=, 490 _and_ _nn._, 491, 492, 498, 499; - _Opus majus_, ii. 490-1, 492, =494-5=, 498, =499-500=, =506-8=; - _Optics_, ii. 500; - _Opus minus_, ii. 490-1, =495-8=; - _Vatican fragment_, ii. 490 _and_ _n. 2_, =505 n. 1=; - _Compendium studii philosophiae_, ii. 491, 493-4, 507-8; - _Compendium theologiae_, ii. 491; - otherwise mentioned, ii. 284 _n._, 335 _n._, =389=, 531-2 - - Bartolomaeus, _De proprietatibus rerum_ of, ii. 316 _n. 2_ - - Bartolus, ii. 264 - - Baudri, Abbot of Bourgueil, ii. 192 _n. 1_ - - Bavaria: - Irish monasteries founded in, i. 174 - Merovingian rule in, i. 121 - Otto's relations with, i. 241 - Reorganization of Church in, 198-9 - - Bavarians, i. 145 _n. 2_, 209, 210 - - Beauty, love of, i. 340 - - Bec monastery, i. 262 _n._, 270-2 - - Bede, estimate of, i. 185-6; - allegorizing of Scripture by, ii. 47 _n. 1_; - _Church History of the English People_, i. 172, =186=, 234 _n. 2_; - _De arte metrica_, i. 187, =298=; - _Liber de temporibus_, 300; - otherwise mentioned, i. 184, 212 - - Beghards of Liege, i. 365 - - Belgae, i. 126 - - Belgica, i. 29, 32 - - Benedict, Prior, i. 258 - - Benedict, St., of Nursia, i. =85 and n. 2=, 94, 100 _n. 4_; - _Regula_ of, _see under_ Monasticism - - Benedictus, _Chronicon_ of, ii. 160-1 - - Benedictus Levita, Deacon, ii. 270 - - Benoit de St. More, _Roman de Troie_ by, ii. 225, =227-9= - - Beowulf, i. 141, =143-4= _and_ _n. 1_ - - Berengar, King, i. 256 - - Berengar of Tours, i. 297, 299, =302-3=; ii. 137 - - Bernard, Bro., of Quintavalle, i. 502 - - Bernard, disciple of St. Francis, i. 425-6 - - Bernard of Chartres, ii. 130-2, 370 - - Bernard, St., Abbot of Clairvaux, at Citeaux, i. 360, 393; - inspires Templars' _regula_, i. 531; - denounces and crushes Abaelard, i. 229, 401; ii. =344-5=, =355=; - denounces Arnold of Brescia, i. 401; ii. 171; - relations with Gilbert de la Porree, ii. 372; - Lives of, i. 392 _n._, 393 _n. 1_; - appearance and characteristics of, i. 392-3; - estimate of, i. 394; ii. 367-8; - love and tenderness of, i. 344, 345, =394 seqq.=; ii. 365; - severity of, i. 400-1; - his love of Clairvaux, i. 401-2; - of his brother, i. 402-4; - Latin style of, ii. 169-71; - on church corruption, i. 474; - on faith, ii. 298; - unconcerned with physics, ii. 356; - St. Francis compared with, i. 415-16; - extracts from letters of, i. 395 _seqq._; ii. 170-1; - _Sermons on Canticles_--cited, 337 _n._; - quoted, i. =409-13=; ii. =169=, 368-9; - _De consideratione_, ii. 368; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17, 20, 279, 302, 472, 501; ii. 34, 168 - - Bernard Morlanensis, _De contemptu mundi_ by, ii. 199 _n. 3_ - - Bernard Silvestris, _Commentum ..._ of, ii. 116-17 _and_ _n. 2_; - _De mundi universitate_, ii. 119, =371 and n.= - - Bernardone, Peter, i. 419, 423-4 - - Bernward, Bp. of Hildesheim, i. 312 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Bible, _see_ Scriptures - - Biscop, Benedict, i. 184 - - Bishops: - Armed forces, with, i. 473 - Francis of Assisi's attitude toward, i. 430 - Gallo-Roman and Frankish, position of, i. 191-2, 194 _and_ _nn._, 198, - =201 n.= - Investiture of, lay, i. 244-5 _and_ _n. 4_; ii. 140 - Jurisdiction and privileges of, ii. 266 - Papacy's ascendancy over, i. 304 - Reluctance to be consecrated, i. 472 - Social class of, i. 473 - Vestments of, symbolism of, ii. 77 _n. 2_ - - _Blancandrin_, i. 565 - - Bobbio monastery, i. 178, =282-3= - - Boethius, death of, i. =89=, 93; - estimate of, i. 89, 92, =102=; - Albertus Magnus compared with, ii. 420; - works of, i. 90-3; - Gerbert's familiarity with works of, i. 289; - works of, studied at Chartres, i. 298-9; - their importance, i. 298; - _De arithmetica_, i. 72, =90=; - _De geometria_, i. 90; - commentary on Porphyry's _Isagoge_, i. =92=; ii. 312; - translation of the _Organon_, i. 71, =91-2=; - "loss" of advanced works, ii. 248 _n._, 334; - _De consolatione philosophiae_, i. =89=, 188, =189-90=, 299; - mediaeval study of the work, i. 89; ii. 135-6 - - Bologna: - Clubs and guilds in, ii. 382 - Fight of, against Parma, i. 497 - Law school at, ii. =121=, 251, =259-62=, 378 - Medical school at, ii. 121, 383 _n._ - University, Law, inception and character of, ii. 121, =381-3=; - affiliated universities, ii. 383 _n._ - - Bonaventura, St. (John of Fidanza), career of, ii. 403; - at Paris, ii. 399, 403; - estimate of, ii. 301; - style of, ii. 181-2; - contrasted with Albertus, ii. 405; - compared with Aquinas, ii. 405, 437; - with Dante, ii. 547; - on faith, ii. 298; - on Minorites and Preachers, ii. 396; - attitude toward Plato and Aristotle, ii. 404-5; - toward Scriptures, ii. 405 _seqq._; - _De reductione artium ad theologiam_, ii. 406-8; - _Breviloquium_, ii. 408-13; - _Itinerarium mentis in Deum_, ii. 413-18; - otherwise mentioned, ii. 283, 288 - - Boniface, _see_ Winifried-Boniface - - Boniface VIII., Pope, _Sextus_ of, ii. 272; - _Unam sanctam_ bull of, ii. 509 - - _Books of Sentences_, method of, ii. 307 - (_See also under_ Lombard) - - Botany, ii. 427-8 - - Bretons, i. 113 - - _Breviarium_, i. 117, 239, =243-4= - - Britain: - Anglo-Saxon conquest of, i. 141 - Antique culture in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 10-11 - Celts in, i. 127 _n._ - Christianity of, i. 171-2 - Romanization of, i. 32 - - Brude (Bridius), King of Picts, i. 173 - - Brunhilde, i. 176, 178 - - Bruno, Abp. of Cologne, i. 309-10, 383-4; - Ruotger's Life of, i. 310; ii. 162 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Burgundians: - Christianizing of, i. 193 - Church's attitude toward, i. 120 - Roman law code promulgated by (_Papianus_), ii. 239, =242= - Roman subjects of, i. 121 - otherwise mentioned, i. 9-10, 113, 145 - - Burgundy, i. =175=, 243 _n. 1_ - - Byzantine architecture, 212 _n._ - - Byzantine Empire, _see_ Eastern Empire - - - Caedmon, i. 183, 343 - - Caesar, C. Julius, cited, i. =27-9=, 138, 296 - - Caesar of Heisterbach, Life of Engelbert by, i. 482-6 _and_ _n._; - _Dialogi miraculorum_, cited, i. 488 _n._, 491. - - Canon law: - Authority of, ii. 274 - Basis of, ii. 267-9 - Bulk of, ii. 269 - Conciliar decrees, collections of, ii. =269= - Decretals: - Collections of, ii. 269, =271-2=, =275= =n.= - False, ii. 270, 273 - Gratian's _Decretum_, ii. 268-9, =270-1=, 306 - _Jus naturale_ in, ii. 268-9 - _Lex romana canonice compta_, ii. 252 - Scope of, ii. 267 - Sources of, ii. 269 - Supremacy of, ii. 277 - - Canossa, i. 244 - - Cantafables, i. 157 _n. 1_ - - Canticles, i. 350; - Origen's interpretation of, 333; - St. Bernard's Sermons on, i. 337 _n._, =409-13=; ii. =169=, 368-9 - - Capella, Martianus, _De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii_ of, i. =71 and - n. 3=; ii. 553 - - _Caritas_, ii. 476-8; - in relation to faith, ii. 479-81; - to wisdom, ii. 481 - - Carloman, King of Austrasia, i. =199-200 and n.=, 209 - - Carloman (son of Pippin), i. 209-10 - - Carnuti, i. 296 - - Carolingian period: - _Breviarium_ epitomes current during, ii. 244, =249= - Continuity of, with Merovingian, i. 210-12 - Criticism of records non-existent in, i. 234 - Definiteness of statement a characteristic of, i. 225, =227= - Educational revival in, 218-19, 222, =236=; ii. 122, =158=; - palace school, i. =214=, 218, 229, 235 - First stage of mediaeval learning represented by, ii. 330, 332 - History as compiled in, i. 234-5 - King's law in, ii. 247 - Latin poetry of, ii. 188, 194, 197 - Latin prose of, ii. 158 - Originality in, circumstances evoking, i. 232-3 - Restatement of antique and patristic matter in, i. =237=, 342-3 - - Carthaginians, i. 25 - - Carthusian Order, origin of, i. 383-4 - - Cassian's _Institutes_ and _Conlocations_, i. 335 - - Cassiodorus, life and works of, i. 93-7; - _Chronicon_, i. 94; - _Variae epistolae_, i. 94; - _De anima_, 94-5; - _Institutiones divinarum et saecularium litterarum_, i. =95-6=; ii. - 357 _n. 2_; - otherwise mentioned, i. 6, 88-9, 115; ii. 312 - - Cathari, i. 49; ii. 283 _n._ - - Catullus, i. 25 - - Cavallini, i. 347 - - Celsus cited, ii. 235, 237 - - Celtic language, date of disuse of, i. 31 _and_ _n._ - - Celts: - Gaul, in, i. =125 and n.=, =126-7=, 129 _n. 1_ - Goidelic and Brythonic, i. 127 _n._ - Ireland, in, _see_ Irish - Italy invaded by (3rd cent. B.C.), i. 24 - Latinized, i. 124 - Teutons compared with, i. 125 - - Champagne, i. 240, =573= - - Chandos, Sir John, i. 554-5 - - _Chanson de Roland_, i. 12 _n._, 528 _and_ _n. 2_, =559-62= - - _Chansons de geste_, i. =558 seqq.=; ii. 222 - - Charlemagne, age of, _see_ Carolingian period; - estimate of, i. 213; - relations of, with the Church, i. =201=, 239; ii. 273; - relations with Angilbert, i. 234-5; - educational revival by, i. =213-14=; ii. 110, 122, =158=, 332; - book of Germanic poems compiled by order of, ii. 220; - Capitularies of, ii. 110, =248=; - open letters of, i. 213 _n._; - Einhard's Life of, ii. 158-9; - poetic fame of, i. 210; - false Capitularies ascribed to, ii. 270; - empire of, non-enduring, i. 238; - otherwise mentioned, i. 9, 115, 153, 562; ii. 8 - - Charles Martel, i. 197, =198=, =209=; ii. 273 - - Charles II. (the Bald), King of France, i. 228, 235 - - Charles III. (the Simple), King of France, i. 239-40 - - Charles IV., King of France, i. 551 - - Chartres Cathedral, sculpture of, i. =20=, 297; ii. =82-5= - - Chartres Schools: - Classics the study of, i. 298; ii. 119 - Fulbert's work at, i. 296-7, 299 - Grammar as studied at, ii. 129-30 - Medicine studied at, ii. 372 - Orleans the rival of, ii. 119 _n. 2_ - Trivium and quadrivium at, i. =298-9=; ii. 163 - mentioned, i. 287, 293 - - Chartreuse, La Grande, founding of, i. 384 (_See also_ Carthusian) - - Chaucer, ii. 95 - - Childeric, King, i. 119, 122 - - Chivalry: - Literature of: - Arthurian romances, _see that heading_ - Aube (alba) poetry, i. =571=; ii. 30 - _Chansons de geste_, i. 558 _seqq._ - Nature of, i. 20 - _Pastorelle_, i. 571 - Pietistic ideal recognized in, ii. 288, 533 - Poems of various nations cited, i. 570 =n.= - Religious phraseology in love poems, i. 350 _n. 2_ - _Romans d'aventure_, i. =564-5=, 571 _n. 2_ - Three branches of, i. 558 - Nature of, i. 522, =570 n.= - Order of, evolution of, i. 524 _seqq._ - (_See also_ Knighthood) - - Chretien de Troies, romances by, i. 566-=7=; - _Tristan_, i. 567; - _Perceval_, i. 567, =588-9=; - _Erec_ (Geraint), i. 567, 586; ii. 29 _n._; - _Lancelot_ or _Le Conte de la charrette_, i. 567, 569-70, =582-5=; - _Cliges_, i. 567, =586 n. 2=; - _Ivain_, i. =571 n. 2=, 586 _n. 3_; ii. 29 _n._; - translation of Ovid's _Ars amatoria_, i. 574 - - Christianity: - Appropriation of, by mediaeval peoples, stages in, i. 17-18 - Aquinas' _Summa_ as concerning, ii. 324 - Art, in, _see_ Art - Atonement doctrine, Anselm's views on, i. 279 - Basis of, ii. 268 - Britain, in, i. 171-2 - Buddhism contrasted with, i. 390 - Catholic Church, _see_ Church - Completeness of scheme of, ii. 394-5 - Dualistic element in, i. 59 - Eleventh century, position in, i. 16 - Emotional elements in: - Fear, i. 103, 339, 342, 383 - Hate, i. 332, 339 - Love, i. 331, =345= - Synthetic treatment of, i. 333 - Emotionalizing of, angels as regarded in, i. 348 _n. 4_ - Eternal punishment doctrine of, i. =65=, =339=, 486 - Faith of, _see_ Faith - Feudalism in relation to, i. 524, 527-=9 and n. 2=, =530= - Fifth century, position in, i. 15 - Gallo-Roman, i. 191-2 - German language affected by, i. 202 - Greek Fathers' contribution to, i. 5 - Greek philosophic admixture in, i. 33-4 - Hell-fear in, i. 103, =339=, 342, =383= - Hymns, _see that heading_ - Ideal _v._ actual, i. 354-5 - Incarnation doctrine of, ii. 369 - Irish missionaries of, _see under_ Irish - Latin as modified for expression of, ii. 152, =154=, 156, 164, 171 - Marriage as regarded by, ii. 8, 529 - Martyrs for, _see_ Martyrs - Mediaeval development in relation to, i. 11, 170 - Mediation doctrine of, i. 54, 59-60 - Militant character of, in early centuries, i. =69-70=, 75 - Miracles, attitude toward, i. 50-1 - Monasticism, _see that heading_ - Neo-Platonism compared with, i. 51 - Pagan ethics inconsistent with, i. 66 - Pessimism of, toward mortal life, i. 64 - Saints, _see that heading_ - Salvation: - Master motive, as, i. 59, =61=, 79, 89 - Scholasticism's main interest, as, ii. =296-7=, 300, 311 - Standard of discrimination, as, ii. =530=, =533=, 559 - Scriptures, _see that heading_ - Teutonic acceptance of, _see under_ Teutons - Trinity doctrine of: - Abaelard's works on, ii. 10, =298-9=, 352-3, 355 - Aquinas on, ii. 449-50, 456 - Bonaventura on, ii. 416-17 - Dante's vision, ii. 551 - Peter Lombard's Book on, ii. 323 - Roscellin on, ii. 340 - Vernacular presentation of, ii. 221 - Visions, _see that heading_ - - Chronicles, mediaeval, ii. 175 - - Chrysostom, i. 53 - - Church, Roman Catholic: - Authority of, Duns' views on, ii. 516 - Bishops, _see that heading_ - British Church's divergencies from, 171-2 - Canon Law, _see that heading_ - Charlemagne's relations with, i. =201=, 239; ii. 273 - Classical study as regarded by, i. 260; ii. =110 seqq.=, 396-7 - Clergy, _see that heading_ - Confession doctrine of, i. 489 - Constantine's relations with, ii. 266 - Creation of, i. 11, 68, =86-7= - Decretals, etc., _see under_ Canon Law - Denunciations of, i. 474-5; ii. 34-5 - Diocesan organization of, among Germans, i. 196 - Doctrinal literature of, i. 68-70 - Duns' attitude towards, ii. 513 - East and West, solidarity of development of, i. 55 - Empire's relations with, _see under_ Papacy - Eternal punishment doctrine of, i. =65=, =339=, 486; ii. 550 - Eucharistic controversy, _see that heading_ - Fathers of the, _see_ Greek thought, patristic; Latin Fathers; _and - chiefly_ Patristic thought - Feudalism as affected by, i. 524, 527-=9 and n. 2=, =530= - Feudalism as affecting, i. 244, 473 - Frankish, _see under_ Franks - Gallo-Roman, i. 191-2, 194 - Hildegard's visions regarding, i. 457 - Intolerance of, _see subheading_ Persecutions - Investiture controversy, _see under_ Bishops - Irish Church's relations with, i. 172-4 _and_ =n. 1= - Isidore's treatise on liturgical practices of, i. 106 - Knights' vow of obedience to, i. 530 - Mass, the: - Alleluia chant and Sequence-hymn, ii. 196, =201 seqq.= - Symbolism of, ii. 77-8 - Nicene Creed, i. 69 - Papacy, Popes, _see those headings_ - Paschal controversy, _see_ Eucharistic - Penance doctrine of, i. =101=, 195 - Persecutions by, i. 339; - of Albigenses, i. 366-7, 461, 481, 572; ii. 168; - of Jews, i. 118, 332; - of Montanists, i. 332 - Popes, _see that heading_ - Predestination, attitude toward, i. 228 - Property of, enactments regarding, ii. 266 - Rationalists in, i. 305 - Reforms in (11th cent.), i. 304 - Roman law for, ii. 265 _and_ _n. 2_ - Sacraments: - Definition of the word, ii. 72 _and_ _n. 1_ - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 64, 66, 68-9, 71, =72-4=, 90 _n. 2_ - Origin of, Bonaventura on, ii. 411-13 - Pagan analogy with, i. 53, 59-60 - Secularization of dignities of, i. 472 - Simony in, i. =244=, 475 - Spain, in, _see under_ Spain - Standards set by, ii. 528-9 - Suspects to, estimate of, ii. 532 - Synod of Aix (817), i. 359 - Theodosian Code as concerning, ii. 266-7 _and_ _n. 1_ - Transubstantiation doctrine of, i. 226-227 - "Truce of God" promulgated by, i. 529 _n. 2_ - - Churches: - Building of, symbolism in, ii. 78-82 - Dedication of, sequence designed for, ii. 210-11 - - Cicero, i. 26 _n. 3_, 39, 78, =219= - - Cino, ii. 264 - - Cistercian Order: - _Charta charitatis_, i. 361-3 - Clairvaux founded, i. 393 - Cluniac controversies with, i. 360 - - Citeaux monastery: - Bernard at, i. 360, 393 - Foundation and rise of, i. 360-3 - - Cities and towns: - Growth of, in 12th cent., i. 305; ii. =379-80= - Italian, _see under_ Italy - - Cities (_civitates_) of Roman provinces, i. 29-30 - - Clairvaux (Clara Vallis): - Founding of, i. 360, 393 - Position of, i. 362 - St. Bernard's love of, i. 401-2 - - Classics, _see_ Latin classics - - Claudius, Bp. of Turin, i. 215, 231-2 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Claudius, Emp., i. 30 - - Clement II., Pope, i. 243 - - Clement IV., Pope, ii. 489-91 - - Clement V., Pope, _Decretales Clementinae_ of, ii. 272 - - Clement of Alexandria, ii. 64 - - Clergy: - Accusations against, false, penalty for, ii. 266 - Legal status of, ii. 382 - Regular, _see_ Monasticism - Secular: - Concubinage of, i. 244 - Francis of Assisi's attitude toward, i. 430, 440 - Marriage of, i. 472 _n. 1_ - Reforms of, i. 359 - Standard of conduct for, i. 471; ii. 529 - Term, scope of, i. 356 - - Clerval, Abbe, cited, i. 300 _n. 1_ - - Clopinel, Jean, _see_ De Meun - - Clovis (Chlodoweg), i. 114, 117, =119-21=, 122, 138, =193-4=; ii. 245 - - Cluny monastery: - Abaelard at, ii. 25, =26=, 345 - Characteristics of, i. 359-60 - Monastic reforms accomplished by, i. =293=, 304 - - Cologne, i. 29, 31 - - Columba, St., of Iona, i. =133-7=, 173 - - Columbanus, St., of Luxeuil and Bobbio, i. 6, 133, =174-9=, 196; - Life and works of, 174 _n. 2_ - - Combat, trial by, i. 232 - - Commentaries, mediaeval: - Boethius', i. 93 - Excerpts as characteristic of, i. 104 - General addiction to, ii. 390, 553 _n. 4_ - Originals supplanted by, ii. 390 - Raban's, i. 222-3 - - Compends: - Fourteenth century use of, ii. 523 - Mediaeval preference for, i. 94 - Medical, in Italy, i. 251 - Saints' lives, of (_Legenda aurea_), ii. 184 - - Conrad, Duke of Franconia, i. 241 - - Conrad II., Emp., i. 243 - - Constantine, Emp., ii. 266; - "Donation" of, ii. =35=, 265, 270 - - Constantinus Africanus, i. =251= _and_ _n._; ii. 372 - - Cordova, i. 25 - - Cornelius Nepos, i. 25 - - _Cornificiani_, ii. =132=, 373 - - Cosmogony: - Aquinas' theory of, ii. 456 - Mediaeval allegorizing of, ii. 65 _seqq._ - Patristic attitude toward, i. 72-4 - - Cosmology, Alan's, in _Anticlaudianus_, ii. 377 - - Cremona, i. 24 - - Cross, Christian: - Magic safeguard, as, i. 294-5 - Mediaeval feeling for, ii. 197 - - Crusades: - Constantinople, capture of, as affecting Western learning, ii. 391 - First: - _Chansons_ concerning, i. 537-8 - Character of, i. 535-7 - Guibert's account of, ii. 175 - Hymn concerning, quoted, i. 349 _and_ _n._ - Italians little concerned in, ii. 189 - Joinville's account of, quoted, i. 546-9 - Language of, i. 531 - Results of, i. 305 - Second, i. 394 - Spirit of, i. 535-7 - - Cuchulain, i. 129 _and_ _nn. 2, 3_ - - Cynewulf's _Christ_, i. 183 - - Cyprian quoted, i. 337 _n._ - - Cyril of Alexandria, i. 227 - - Cyril of Jerusalem, i. 53 - - - Da Romano, Alberic, i. 515-16 - - Da Romano, Eccelino, i. =505-6=, 516 - - Dacia, Visigoths in, i. 112 - - Damiani, St. Peter, Card. Bp. of Ostia, career of, i. 262-4; - attitude of, to the classics, i. 260; ii. 112, 165; - on the hermit life, i. 369-70; - on tears, i. 371 _and_ _n._; - extract illustrating Latin style of, ii. 165 _and_ _n. 3_; - works of, i. 263 _n. 1_; - writings quoted, i. 263-7; - _Liber Gomorrhianus_, i. 265, 474; - _Vita Romualdi_, i. 372 _seqq._; - biography of Dominicus Loricatus, i. 381-2; - _De parentelae gradibus_, ii. 252; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17, 19, 20, 260, 343, 345, 391; ii. 34 - - Damianus, i. 262, 265 - - Danes, i. 142, =153= - - Dante, estimate of, ii. 534-5; - scholarship of, ii. 541 _n. 2_; - possessed by spirit of allegory, ii. 552-5; - compared with Aquinas and influenced by him, ii. 541 _n. 2_, 547, 549, - 551, 555; - compared with Bonaventura, ii. 547; - attitude to Beatrice, ii. 555-8; - on love, ii. 555-6; - on monarchy, ii. 278; - _De monarchia_, ii. 535; - _De vulgari eloquentia_, ii. 219, =536=; - _Vita nuova_, ii. =556=, 559; - _Convito_, ii. =537-8=, 553; - _Divina Commedia_, i. 12 _n._; ii. 86, 99 _n. 1_, =103=, 219; - commentaries on this work, ii. 553-4; - estimate of it, ii. 538, 540-1, 544, 553-4; - _Inferno_ cited, ii. 42, 541-3, =545-7=; - _Purgatorio_ cited, ii. 535, 542-3, =548-9=, 554, 558; - _Paradiso_ cited, i. 395; ii. 542-3, =549-51=, 558 - - Dares the Phrygian, ii. 116 _and_ _n. 3_, 224-=5 and nn.=, 226-7 - - _De bello et excidio urbis Comensis_, ii. 189-90 - - De Boron, Robert, i. 567 - - _De casu Diaboli_, i. 279 - - _De consolatione philosophiae_, _see under_ Boethius - - De Lorris, Guillaume, _Roman de la rose_ by, i. =586-7=; ii. 103 _and_ - _n. 1_, 104 - - De Meun, Jean (Clopinel), _Roman de la rose_ by, ii. 103 _and_ _n. 1_, - 104, =223= - - Denis, St., i. 230 - - Dermot (Diarmaid, Diarmuid), High-King of Ireland, i. =132=-3, 135, =136= - - Desiderius, Bp. of Vienne, i. 99 - - Desiderius, Pope, i. =253=, 263 - - Devil, the: - Mediaeval beliefs and stories as to, i. 487 _seqq._ - Romuald's conflicts with, i. =374=, 379-80 - - Dialectic (_See also_ Logic): - Abaelard's skill in, ii. 118, 119, =345-6=, 353; - his subjection of dogma to, ii. 304; - his _Dialectica_, ii. 346 _and_ _nn._, 349-50 - Chartres study of, i. 298 - Duns Scotus' mastery of, ii. 510, 514 - Grammar penetrated by, ii. 127 _seqq._ - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 67 - Raban's view of, i. 222 - Thirteenth century study of, ii. 118-20 - - Diarmaid (Diarmuid), _see_ Dermot - - _Dictamen_, ii. =121=, =129=, 381 - - Dictys the Cretan, ii. 224, 225 _and_ _n. 1_ - - _Dies irae_, i. 348 - - Dionysius the Areopagite, ii. 10, 102, =344= - - _Divina Commedia_, _see under_ Dante - - Divination, ii. 374 - - Dominic, St., i. =366-7=, 497; ii. 396 - - Dominican Order: - Aristotelianism of, ii. 404 - Founding of, i. =366=; ii. 396 - Growth of, i. 498; ii. =398= - Object of, ii. 396 - Oxford University, at, ii. 387 - Papacy, relations with, ii. =398=, 509 - Paris University, position in, ii. =386=, 399 - - Dominicus Loricatus, i. 263, =381-3= - - Donatus, i. 71, 297; - _Ars minor_ and _Barbarismus_ of, ii. 123-=4= - - Donizo of Canossa, ii. 189 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Druids: - Gallic, i. =28=, 296 - Irish, i. 133 - - Du Guesclin, Bertrand, Constable of France, i. 554-6, 557 _n._ - - Duns Scotus, education of, ii. 511; - career of, ii. 513; - estimate of, ii. 513; - intricacy of style of, ii. 510, 514, =516 n. 2=; - on logic, ii. 504 _n. 2_; - Occam's attitude toward, ii. 518 _seqq._; - editions of works of, ii. 511 _n. 1_; - estimate of his work, ii. 509-10, 514 - - Dunstan, St., Abp. of Canterbury, i. 323-4 - - Durandus, Guilelmus, _Rationale divinorum officiorum_ of, ii. 76 _seqq._ - - - Eadmer, i. 269, 273, 277 - - Eastern Empire: - Frankish relations with, i. 123 - Huns' relations with, i. 112-13 - Norse mercenaries of, i. 153 - Ostrogoths' relations with, i. 114 - Roman restoration by, i. 115 - - Ebroin, i. 209 - - Eckbert, Abbot of Schoenau, i. 444 - - Ecstasy: - Bernard's views on, ii. 368 - Examples of, i. 444, 446 - - Eddas, ii. 220 - - Education: - Carolingian period, in, i. =213-14=, 218-19, 222, =236=; ii. 110, 122, - =158=, 332 - Chartres method of, ii. 130-1 - Grammar a chief study in, ii. 122 _seqq._, 331-2 - Italy, in, _see under_ Italy - Latin culture the means and method of, i. 12; ii. =109= - Schools, clerical and monastic, i. =250 n. 2=, 293 - Schools, lay, i. 249-51 - Seven Liberal Arts, _see that heading_ - Shortening of academic course, advocates of, ii. =132=, 373 - - Edward II., King of England, i. 551 - - Edward III., King of England, i. 550-1 - - Edward the Black Prince, i. 554-6 - - Einhard the Frank, i. 234 _n. 1_; - _Life of Charlemagne_ by, i. 215; ii. 158-9 - - Ekkehart family, i. 309 - - Ekkehart of St. Gall, _Waltarius_ (_Waltharilied_) by, ii. 188 - - El-Farabi, ii. 390 - - Eleventh century: - Characteristics of, i. 301; - in France, i. 301, 304, 328; - in Germany, i. 307-9; - in England, i. 324; - in Italy, i. 327 - Christianity in, position of, i. 16 - - Elias, Minister-General of the Minorites, i. 499 - - Elizabeth, St., of Hungary, i. 391, =465 n. 1= - - Elizabeth, St., of Schoenau, visions of, i. 444-6 - - Emotional development, secular, i. 349-50 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Empire, the, _see_ Holy Roman Empire - - Encyclopaedias, mediaeval, ii. 316 _n. 2_; - Vincent's _Speculum majus_, ii. 315-22 - - _Eneas_, ii. 225, =226= - - Engelbert, Abp. of Cologne, i. 481-6; - estimate of, i. 482 - - England (_See also_ Britain): - Danish Viking invasion of, i. 153 - Eleventh century conditions in, i. 324 - Law in, principles of, i. 141-2; - Roman law almost non-existent in Middle Ages, ii. 248 - Norman conquest of, linguistic result of, i. 324 - - English language, character of, i. 324 - - Epicureanism, i. =41=, 70; ii. 296, 312 - - Eriugena, John Scotus, estimate of, i. 215, =228-9=, =231=; ii. 330; - on reason _v._ authority, ii. 298, 302; - works of, studied at Chartres, i. 299; - _De divisione naturae_, i. =230-1=; ii. 302; - otherwise mentioned, i. 16; ii. 282 _n._, 312 - - Essenes, i. 334 - - Ethelbert, King of Kent, i. 180-1 - - _Etymologies_ of Isidore, i. 33, 105 _and_ _n. 1_, =107-9=; ii. 318; - law codes glossed from, ii. 250 - - Eucharistic (Paschal) controversy: - Berengar's contribution to, i. 302-3 - Paschasius' contribution to, i. 225-7 - - Eucherius, Bp. of Lyons, ii. 48 _n. 1_ - - Euclid, i. 40 - - Eudemus of Rhodes, i. 38 - - Eunapius, i. 47, 52 - - Euric, King of the Visigoths, i. 117 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Eusebius, i. 81 _n. 2_ - - Evil or sin: - Abaelard's views concerning, ii. 350 - Eriugena's views concerning, i. 228 - Original sin, realism in relation to, ii. 340 _n._ - Peter Lombard and Aquinas contrasted as to, ii. 308-10 - - Experimental science, Bacon on, ii. 502-8 - - - _Fabliaux_, i. =521 n. 2=; ii. 222 - - Facts, unlimited actuality of, i. 79-80 - - Faith: - Abaelard's definition of, ii. 354 - Bacon's views on, ii. 507 - Bernard of Clairvaux's attitude toward, ii. 355 - _Caritas_ in relation to, ii. 479-81 - Cognition through, Aquinas' views on, ii. 446 - Occam's views on, ii. 519 - Proof of matters of, Aquinas on, ii. 450 - Will as functioning in, ii. 479 - - _False Decretals_, i. 104 _n._, =118 n. 1= - - Fathers of the Church (_See also_ Patristic thought): - Greek, _see_ Greek thought, patristic - Latin, _see_ Latin Fathers - - Faustus, ii. 44 - - Felix, St., i. 86 - - Feudalism (_See also_ Knighthood): - Anarchy of, modification of, i. 304 - Austrasian disintegration by, i. 240 - _Chansons_ regarding, i. 559 _seqq._, 569 - Christianity in relation to, i. 524, 527-=9 and n. 2=, =530= - Church affected by, i. 244, 473 - Italy not greatly under, i. 241 - Marriage as affected by, i. 571, 586 - Obligations of, i. 533-4 - Origin of, 522-3 - Principle and practice of, at variance, i. 522 - - Fibonacci, Leonardo, ii. 501 - - Finnian, i. 136 - - _Flamenca_, i. 565 - - _Flore et Blanchefleur_, i. 565 - - Florus, Deacon, of Lyons, i. 229 _and_ _n._ - - Fonte Avellana hermitage, i. =262-3=, 381 - - Forms, new, creation of, _see_ Mediaeval thought--Restatement - - Fortunatus, Hymns by, ii. 196-7 - - Fourteenth century: - Academic decadence in, ii. 523 - Papal position in, ii. 509-10 - - France (_For particular districts, towns, etc., see their names_): - Antique, the, in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 9-10 - Arthurian romances developed in, i. 566 - Cathedrals of, ii. 539, 554-5 - Church in, secularization of, i. 472-3 - Eleventh century conditions in, i. 301, 304, 328 - History of, in 11th century, i. 300 - Hundred Years' War, i. 550 _seqq._ - Jacquerie in (1358), i. 556 - Language modifications in, ii. 155 - Literary celebrities in (12th cent.), ii. 168 - Monarchy of, advance of, i. 305 - North and South, characteristics of, i. 328 - Rise of, in 14th century, ii. 509 - Town-dwellers of, i. =495=, 508 - - Francis, St., of Assisi, birth of, i. 415; - parentage, i. 419; - youth, i. 420-3; - breach with his father, i. 423-4; - monastic career, i. 427 _seqq._; - French songs sung by, i. =419 and n. 2=, 427, 432; - _Lives_ of, i. 415 _n._; - style of Thomas of Celano's _Life_, ii. 182-3; - _Speculum perfectionis_, i. 415 _n._, 416 _n._, =438 n. 3=; ii. =183=; - literal acceptance of Scripture by, i. 365, 406-=7=; - on Scripture interpretation, i. 427 _n. 1_; ii. 183; - universality of outlook, i. 417; - mediaevalism, i. 417; - Christ-influence, i. 417, =418=, =432=-3; - inspiration, i. =419 n. 1=, 441; - gaiety of spirit, i. 421, 427-8, 431-2; - poetic temperament, i. 422, 435; - love of God, man, and nature, i. 366, 428, =432-3=, =435=-7; - simplicity, i. 429; - obedience and humility, i. 365 _n._, =429-30=; - humanism, i. 495; - St. Bernard compared with, i. 415-16; - St. Dominic contrasted with, ii. 396; - _Fioretti_, ii. 184; - Canticle of Brother Sun, i. 433-4, =439-40=; - last testament of, i. 440-1; - otherwise mentioned, i. 20, 21, 279, 344, 345, 355-6; ii. 302 - - Franciscan Order: - Attractiveness of, i. 498 - Augustinianism of, ii. 404 - Bacon's relations with, ii. 486, =488=, 490-=1= - Characteristics of, i. 366 - Founding of, i. =427=; ii. 396 - Grosseteste's relations, ii. =487=, 511 - Object of, ii. 396 - Oxford University, at, ii. 387, 400 - Papacy, relations with, ii. =398=, 509 - Paris University, in, ii. 386, 399 - Rise of, ii. 398 - - Franconia, i. 241 - - Franks (_See also_ Germans): - Christianity as accepted by, i. 193 - Church among: - Bishops, position of, i. =194 and nn.=, 198, 201 _n._ - Charlemagne's relations with, i. =201=, 239; ii. 273 - Clovis, under, i. 194 - Lands held by, i. 194, 199-200; - immunities of, i. 201 _and_ _n._ - Organization of, i. 199 - Reform of, by Boniface, i. =196=; ii. 273 - Roman character of, i. 201 - Division of the kingdom a custom of, i. 238-9 - Gallo-Roman relations with, i. 123 - Language of, i. 145 _n. 2_ - Law of, ii. 245-6 - _Missi dominici_, i. 211 - Ripuarian, i. 119, 121; ii. 246 - Romanizing of, partial, i. 9-10 - Salian, i. 113, =119=; Code, ii. 245-6 - Saracens defeated by, i. 209-10 _n. 1_ - Trojan origin of, belief as to, ii. 225 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Frederic, Count of Isenburg, i. 483-6 - - Frederick I. (Barbarossa), Emp., i. 448 - - Frederick II., Emp., under Innocent's guardianship, ii. 32-3; - crowned, ii. 33; - estimate of, i. 497; - otherwise mentioned, i. 250 _n. 4_, 417, 481, 505, 510, 517 - - Free, meaning of term, i. 526 _n. 3_ - - Free Companies, i. 556 - - Free will: - Angelic, ii. 473 - Duns Scotus on, ii. 515 - Human, ii. 475 - Richard of Middleton on, ii. 512 - - Freidank, i. 475; ii. =35= - - Frescoes, i. 346-7 - - Friendship, chivalric, i. 561-2, 569-70, 583 - - Frisians, i. 169, 174; - missionary work among, i. =197=, 200, 209 - - Froissart, Sir John, _Chronicles_ of, i. 549 _seqq._; - estimate of the work, i. 557 - - Froumund of Tegernsee, i. =312-13=; ii. 110 - - Fulbert, Bp. of Chartres, i. 287, =296-7=, 299 - - Fulbert, Canon, ii. 4-6, 9 - - Fulco, Bp. of Toulouse, i. 461 - - Fulda monastery, i. =198=, 221 _n. 2_ - - Fulk of Anjou, ii. 138 - - - Gaius, _Institutes_ of, ii. 241, 243 - - Galahad, i. 569-70, 583, 584 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Galen of Pergamos, i. =40=, 251 - - Gall, St., i. 6, 178, =196= - - Gallo-Romans: - Feudal system among, i. 523 - Frankish rule over, i. 120, 123 - Literature of, i. 126 _n. 2_ - - Gandersheim cloister, i. 311 - - Gaul (_For particular districts, towns, etc., see their names_): - Celtic inhabitants of, i. =125 and n.=, =126=-7, 129 _n. 1_ - Druidism in, i. =28=, 296 - Ethnology of, i. 126 - Heathenism in, late survival of, i. 191 _n. 1_ - Latinization of, i. 9-10, =29-32= - Visigothic kingdom in south of, i. 112, 116, 117, 121 - - Gauls, characteristics and customs of, i. 27-8 - - Geoffrey of Beaulieu, Life of St. Louis by, i. 539-42 - - Gepidae, i. 113, 115 - - Geraldus, St., i. 281 - - Gerard, brother of St. Bernard, i. 402-4 - - Gerbert of Aurillac, _see_ Sylvester II. - - German language: - Christianity as affecting, i. 202 - High and Low, separation of, i. 145 _n. 2_ - Middle High German literature, ii. 168, 221 - Old High German poetry, ii. =194=, 220 - - Germans (Saxons) (_See also_ Franks): - Characteristics of, i. 138-40, 147, 151-2 - Language of, _see_ German language - Latin as studied by, i. =307-9=; ii. =123=, 155 - Literature of, ii. 220-1 (_See also subheading_ Poetry) - Marriage as regarded by, ii. 30 - Nationalism of, in 13th cent., ii. 28 - Poetry of: - _Hildebrandslied_, i. 145-7 - _Kudrun_ (_Gudrun_), i. 148, =149=-52; ii. 220 - _Nibelungenlied_, i. 145-6, =148-9=, 152, 193, 203 _n. 2_; ii. 220 - _Waltarius_, i. 147 _and_ _n._, 148 - otherwise mentioned, i. 113, 115, 119, 174, 209, 210 - - Germany: - Antique, the, in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 10-11 - Art in (11th cent.), i. 312 - Church in, secularization of, i. 472 - Italy contrasted with, as to culture, i. 249-50 - Merovingian supremacy in, i. 121 - Papacy as regarded by, ii. 28, 33, =34-5= - Sequence-composition in, ii. 215 - - Gertrude of Hackeborn, Abbess, i. 466 - - Gilbert de la Porree, Bp. of Poictiers, ii. 132, =372= - - Gilduin, Abbot of St. Victor, ii. =62= _and_ _n. 2_ - - Giraldus Cambrensis, ii. 135 _and_ _n._ - - Girard, Bro., of Modena, i. 498 - - Glaber, Radulphus, _Histories_ of, i. 488 _n._ - - Glass-painting, ii. 82-6 - - Gnosticism, i. 51 _n. 1_ - - Gnostics, Eriugena compared with, i. 231 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Godehard, Bp. of Hildesheim, i. 312 - - Godfrey of Bouillon, i. 535-8 - - Godfrey of Viterbo, ii. 190 _and_ _n. 4_ - - Gondebaud, King of the Burgundians, ii. 242 - - Good and the true compared, ii. 441, 512 - - Goths (_See also_ Visigoths): - Christianity of, i. 192, 194 - Roman Empire invaded by, i. 111 _seqq._ - - Gottfried von Strassburg, i. 567; ii. 223; - _Tristan_ of, i. 577-82 - - Gottschalk, i. 215, 221 _n. 2_, 224-5, 227-=8=; - verses by, ii. 197-9 - - Government: - Church _v._ State controversy, ii. 276-7 - (_See also_ Papacy--Empire) - Ecclesiastical, _see_ Canon Law - Monarchical, ii. 277-8 - Natural law in relation to, ii. 278-=9= - Representative assemblies, ii. 278 - - Grace, Aquinas' definition of, ii. 478-9 - - Grail, the, i. 589, =596-7=, =607=, 608, 613 - - Grammar: - Chartres studies in, i. =298=; ii. 129-30 - Current usage followed by, ii. 163 _and_ _n. 1_ - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 67 - Importance and predominance of, in Middle Ages, i. 109 _and_ _n._, - =292=; ii. =331-2= - Italian study of, ii. =129=, 381 - Language continuity preserved by, ii. =122-3=, 151, 155 - Law studies in relation to, ii. 121 - Logic in relation to, ii. 127 _seqq._, 333-4; - in Abaelard's work, ii. 346 - Raban's view of, i. 222 - Scholastic classification of, ii. 313 - Syntax, connotation of term, ii. 125 - Works on--Donatus, Priscian, Alexander, ii. 123 =seqq.= - - Grammarian, meaning of term, i. 250 - - Gratianus, _Decretum_ of, ii. 268-9, =270-1=, 306, 380-2; - _dicta_, ii. 271 - - Greek classics, _see_ Greek thought, pagan - - Greek language: - Oxford studies in, ii. 120, 391, =487= - Translations from, direct, in 13th cent., ii. 391 - - Greek legends, mediaeval allegorizing of, ii. 52, 56-9 - - Greek novels, ii. 224 _and_ _n._ - - Greek thought, pagan: - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. 492-3 - Breadth of interest of, ii. 109 - Christian standpoint contrasted with, i. 390; ii. 295-6 - Church Fathers permeated by, i. 33-4 - Completeness of schemes presented by, ii. 394 - Limitless, the, abhorrent to, i. 353-4 - Love as regarded by, i. 575 - Metaphysics in, ii. 335-7 - Scholasticism contrasted with, ii. 296 - _Summa moralium philosophorum_, ii. 373 - Symbolism in, ii. 42, =56= - Transmutation of, through Latin medium, i. 4 - - Greek thought, patristic (_See also_ Patristic thought): - Comparison of, with Latin, i. 68 - Pagan philosophic thought contrasted with, ii. 295-6 - Symbolism in, ii. 43 - Transmutation of, through Latin medium, i. 5, 34 _and_ _n._ - - Gregorianus, ii. =240=, 243 - - Gregory, Bp. of Tours, i. 121; - _Historia Francorum_ by, i. 234 _n. 2_; ii. 155 - - Gregory I. (the Great), Pope, family and education of, i. 97; - Augustine of Hippo compared with, i. 98-9; - Augustinianism barbarized by, i. 98, 102; - sends mission to England, i. 6, 33, =180-1 and n. 1=; - estimate of, i. =56=, 89, =102-3=, =342=; - estimate of his writings, i. 354; - on miracles, i. 100, 182; - on secular studies, ii. 288; - letter to Theoctista cited, i. 102 _n. 1_; - editions of works of, i. 97 _n._; - works of, translated by King Alfred, i. 187; - _Dialogues on the Lives and Miracles of the Italian Saints_, i. 85 - and _n. 2_, 100; - _Moralia_, i. =97=, 100; ii. 57; - Odo's epitome of this work, ii. 161; - _Commentary on Kings_, i. 100 _n. 1_; - _Pastoral Rule_, i. =102=, 187-8; - otherwise mentioned, i. 16 _and_ _n. 4_, 65, 87, 104, 116 - - Gregory II., Pope, i. 197-8; ii. 273 - - Gregory III., Pope, i. 198; ii. 273 - - Gregory VII., Pope (Hildebrand), claims of, i. =244-5=; ii. 274; - relations with Damiani, i. 263; - exile of, i. 244, 253; - estimate of, i. 261; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17, 174 _n. 1_, 243, 304 - - Gregory IX., Pope, codification by, of Canon law, ii. 272; - efforts of, to improve education of the Church, ii. 398; - mentioned, i. 476; ii. 33 - - Gregory of Nyssa, i. 53, 80, 87, 340 - - Grosseteste, Robert, Chancellor of Oxford University and Bp. of Lincoln, - Greek studies promoted by, ii. =120=, =391=, 487; - estimate of, ii. 511-12; - Augustinianism of, ii. 403-4; - attitude toward the classics, ii. 120, 389; - relations with Franciscan Order, ii. =487=, 511; - Bacon's relations with, ii. 487 - - _Gudrun_ (_Kudrun_), i. 148, =149=-52; ii. 220 - - Guigo, Prior, estimate of, i. 390-1; - relations with St. Bernard, i. 405; - _Consuetudines Carthusiae_ by, i. 384; - _Meditationes_ of, i. 385-90 - - Guinevere, i. 569, =584= _and_ _n. 1_, 585 - - Guiot de Provens, "Bible" of, i. 475-6 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Guiscard, Robert, ii. 189 _n. 2_ - - Gumpoldus, Bp. of Mantua, _Life of Wenceslaus_ by, ii. 162 _n. 1_ - - Gundissalinus, Archdeacon of Segovia, ii. 312 _and_ _n. 4_, 313 - - Gunther, _Ligurinus_ of, ii. 192 _and_ _n. 4_ - - Gunzo of Novara, i. 257-8 - - - Harding, Stephen, Abbot of Citeaux, i. =360=, =361=, 393 - - Harold Fairhair, i. 153 - - _Hartmann von Aue_, i. =348-9 and n.=, 567; ii. 29 _n._ - - Harun al Raschid, Caliph, i. 210 - - Heinrich von Veldeke, i. 567; ii. 29 _n._ - - _Heliand_, i. =203 and nn.=, 308 - - Helias, Count of Maine, ii. 138 - - Hell: - Dante's descriptions of, ii. 546-7 - Fear of, i. 103, =339=, 342, =383= - Visions of, i. 454-5, 456 _n._ - - Heloise, Abaelard's love for, ii. 4-5, 344; - his love-songs to, ii. =13=, 207; - love of, for Abaelard, i. 585; ii. =3=, =5=, 8, 9, =15-16=; - birth of Astralabius, ii. 6; - opposes marriage with Abaelard, ii. 6-9; - marriage, ii. 9; - at Argenteuil, ii. 9, 10; - takes the veil, ii. 10; - at the Paraclete, ii. 10 _seqq._; - letters of, to Abaelard quoted, ii. 11-15, 17-20, 23, 24; - Abaelard's letters to, quoted, ii. 16-17, 21-3, 24-5; - Peter the Venerable's letter, ii. 25-7; - letter of, to Peter the Venerable, ii. 27; - death of, ii. 27; - intellectual capacity of, ii. 3 - - Henry the Fowler, i. 241 - - Henry II., Emp., i. 243; - dirge on death of, ii. 216 - - Henry IV., Emp., i. 244; ii. =167= - - Henry VI., Emp., ii. 32, 190 - - Henry I., King of England, ii. 139, 146, 176-8 - - Henry II., King of England, ii. 133, 135, 372 - - Henry of Brabant, ii. 391 - - Henry of Ghent, ii. 512 - - Henry of Huntington cited, i. 525 - - Henry of Septimella, ii. 190 _and_ _n. 3_ - - Heretics (_For particular sects, see their names_): - Abaelard's views on coercion of, ii. 350, 354 - Insignificance of, in relation to mediaeval thought, ii. 283 _and_ _n._ - Theodosian enactments against, ii. 266 - Twelfth century, in, i. 305 - - Herluin, Abbot of Bec, i. 271 - - Hermann, Landgraf of Thueringen, i. 589; ii. 29 - - Hermann Contractus, i. 314-15 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Hermits: - Irish, i. 133 - Motives of, i. 335, 363 - Temper of, i. 368 _seqq._ - - Hermogenianus, ii. 240, 243 - - Herodotus, i. 77 - - Hesse, Boniface's work in, i. 197-8 - - Hilarion, St., i. 86 - - Hilary, Bp. of Poictiers, i. =63=, 68, 70 - - Hildebert of Lavardin, Bp. of Le Mans and Abp. of Tours, career of, ii. - 137-40; - love of the classics, ii. =141-2=, =146=, 531; - letters of, quoted, ii. 140, 143, 144-5, 146-7; - Latin text of letter, ii. 172; - Latin elegy by, ii. 191; - otherwise mentioned, ii. 61, 134, 373 _n. 2_ - - Hildebrand, _see_ Gregory VII. - - _Hildebrandslied_, ii. 220 - - Hildegard, St., Abbess of Bingen, dedication of, i. 447; - visions of, i. 267, =449-59=; - affinity of, with Dante, ii. 539; - correspondence of, i. 448; - works of, i. 446 _n._; - _Book of the Rewards of Life_, i. 452-6; - _Scivias_, i. 457-9; - otherwise mentioned, i. 20, 345, 443; ii. 302, 365 - - Hildesheim, bishops of (11th cent.), i. 312 - - Hilduin, Abbot, i. 230 - - Hincmar, i. 215, 230, =233 n. 1= - - Hipparchus, i. 40 - - Hippocrates, i. 40 - - History: - Carolingian treatment of, i. 234-5 - Classical attitude toward, i. 77-8 - Eleventh century treatment of, i. 300 - _Historia tripartita_ of Cassiodorus, i. 96-7 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 80-4 - _Seven Books of Histories adversum paganos_ by Orosius, i. 82-3 - - Holy Roman Empire: - Burgundy added to, i. 243 _n. 1_ - German character of, ii. 32 - Papacy, relations with, _see under_ Papacy - Refounding of, by Otto, i. 243 - Rise of, under Charlemagne, i. 212 - - Honorius II., Pope, i. 531 - - Honorius III., Pope, i. 366, 482, 497; ii. 33, 385 _n._, =398= - - Honorius of Autun--on classical study, ii. 110, =112-13=; - _Speculum ecclesiae_ of, ii. 50 _seqq._; - _Gemma animae_, ii. 77 _n. 1_ - - Hosius, Bp. of Cordova, i. 118 _n. 1_ - - Hospitallers, i. 531 - - Hrotsvitha, i. 311 _and_ _n. 2_, ii. 215 _n. 2_ - - Huesca (Osca), i. 25 - - Hugh, Abbot of Cluny, ii. 137 - - Hugh Capet, i. 239-=40= _and_ _n._ - - Hugh the Great, Count of Paris, i. 241 - - Hugh of Payns, i. 531 - - Hugo, Archdeacon of Halberstadt, ii. 62 - - Hugo, Bro., of Montpellier, i. 510-14 - - Hugo, King, i. 242 - - Hugo of St. Victor, estimate of, ii. =63=, =111=, 118, 301, =356=; - allegorizing by, ii. 367; - on classical study, ii. 110-11; - on logic, ii. 333; - pupils of, ii. 87; - works of, ii. 61 _n. 2_; - _Didascalicon_, ii. 48 _n. 2_, =63=, =111=, 312, =357 and nn. 2-5=; - _De sacramentis Christianae fidei_, ii. 48 _n. 2_, =64 seqq.=, 365, - =395=, 540; - _Expositio in regulam beati Augustini_, ii. 62 _n. 2_; - _De arca Noe morali_, ii. 75 _n._, =365-7=; - _De arca Noe mystica_, ii. 367; - _De vanitate mundi_, ii. 75 _n._, =111-12=; - _Summa sententiarum_, ii. 356; - _Sermons on Ecclesiastes_, ii. 358-9; - otherwise mentioned, i. 17, 20, 457; ii. 404 - - Humanists, ii. 126 - - _Humiliati_ of Lombardy, i. 365 - - Hungarians, i. 241-=2= - - Huns, i. 112, 119, 193 - - _Huon de Bordeaux_, i. 564 - - Hy (Iona) Island, i. 136, =173= - - Hymns, Christian: - Abaelard, by, ii. 25, =207-9= - Estimate of, i. 21 - Evolution of, i. 347-9 _and_ _n._; ii. 196, =200 seqq.= - Hildegard's visions regarding, i. 459 - Hugo of St. Victor, by, ii. 86 _seqq._ - Sequences, development of, ii. 196, =201-6=; - Adam of St. Victor's, ii. 209-15 - - - Iamblicus, i. 42, =47=, 51, 56-7; ii. 295 - - Iceland, Norse settlement in, i. 153 - - Icelanders, characteristics and customs of, i. 154 - - Icelandic Sagas, _see_ Sagas - - Ideal _v._ actual, i. 353 _seqq._ - - Innocent II., Pope, i. =394=; ii. 10 - - Innocent III., Pope, i. 417, 481, 497; ii. =32=, =274=, 384, =398= - - Innocent IV., Pope, i. 506 - - _Intellectus agens_, ii. 464, =507 n. 2= - - Iona (Hy) Island, i. 136, =173= - - Ireland: - Celts in, _see_ Irish - Church of, missionary zeal of, i. 133, 136, 172 _seqq._ - Danish settlements in, i. 153 - Monasteries in, i. =153 n. 1=, 173 - Norse invasion of, i. 134 - Scholarship in, i. =180 n.=, 184-5 - - Irenaeus, Bp. of Lyons, i. 225 - - Irish: - Art of, i. 128 _n. 1_ - Characteristics of, i. =128=, 130, 133, 179 - History of, i. 127 _and_ _n._ - Influence of, on mediaeval feeling, i. 179 _and_ _n._ - Literature of, i. =128 and n. 2=, =129 seqq.=, 134; - poetry, ii. 194 - Missionary labours of, i. 133, 136, 172 _seqq._; - defect of, i. 179, 196 - Norse harryings of, i. 133-4; - intercourse with, i. 152 _n. 3_ - Oxford University, at, ii. 387 - - Irnerius, ii. 121, =260=, 380-1; - _Summa codicis_ of, ii. 255-9 - - Irrationality (_See also_ Miracles): - Neo-Platonic teaching as to, i. 42-4, 48, 52 - Patristic doctrine as to, i. 51-3 - - Isabella, Queen, wife of Edward II., i. 550-1 - - Isidore, Abp. of Seville, estimate of, i. 89, 103, 118 _n. 1_; - Bede compared with, i. 185-7; - _False Decretals_ attributed to, i. 118 _n. 1_; ii. =270=, 273; - works of, i. 104-9; - _Etymologiae_, _see_ Etymologies of Isidore; - _Origines_, i. 236, 300; - otherwise mentioned, i. 6, 88; ii. 46, 312 - - Italian people in relation to the antique, i. 7-8 - - Italy (_For particular districts, towns, etc., see their names_): - Celtic inroads into (3rd cent. B.C.), i. 24 - Church in, secularization of, i. 472 - Cities in: - Continuity of, through dark ages, i. 248, =494-5=; ii. 381 - Fighting amongst, i. 497-8 - Importance of, i. 241, 326, =494-5= - Continuity of culture and character in, i. =326=, 495; ii. =120-2= - Dante as influenced by, ii. 534-5 - Education in--lay, persistence of, i. 249-51; - clerical and monastic, i. 250 _n. 2_ - Eleventh-century conditions in, i. 327 - Feudalism not widely fixed in, i. 241 - Feuds in, i. 515-16 - Grammar as studied in, i. 250 _and_ _n. 2_; ii. 129 - Irish monasteries founded in, i. 174 - Literature of, mediaeval, lack of originality in, ii. 189; - eleventh-century verse, i. 251 _seqq._; ii. 165 _n. 1_, 186 - Lombard kingdom of (6th cent.), i. 115-16 - Medicine studied in, i. 250 _and_ _n. 4_, =251=; ii. 121 - Unification of, under Rome, i. 23 - - - Jacobus a Voragine, _Legenda aurea_ by, ii. 184 - - Jacques de Vitry, Bp. and Card. of Tusculum, i. 461 and n.; - Exempla of, i. 488 _n._, 490 - - Jerome, St., estimate of, i. 344, 354; - letter of, on asceticism, i. 335 _and_ =n. 1=; - love of the classics, ii. 107, 112, 531; - modification by, of classical Latin, ii. 152, 171; - two styles of, ii. 171 _and_ _n. 4_; - Life of Paulus by, i. 84, 86; - Life of Hilarion, i. 86; - _Contra Vigilantium_, i. 86; - otherwise mentioned, i. 56, 75, 76, 104 - - Jerome of Ascoli (Pope Nicholas IV.), ii. 491 - - Jews: - Agobard's tracts against, i. 232-=3= - Gregory the Great's attitude toward, i. 102 - Louis IX.'s attitude toward, i. 545 - Persecution of, i. 118, 332 - - Joachim, Abbot of Flora, _Evangelicum eternum_ of, 502 _n._, =510=, - =512-13=, 517 - - John, Bro., of Vicenza, i. 503-4 - - John X., Pope, i. 242 - - John XI., Pope, i. 242 - - John XII., Pope, i. 243; ii. =160-1= - - John XIII., Pope, i. 282 - - John XXII., Pope, _Decretales extravaganes_ of, ii. 272 - - John of Damascus, ii. 439 _n. 1_ - - John of Fidanza, _see_ Bonaventura - - John of Parma, Minister-General of Franciscans, i. 507, 508, =510-11= - - John of Salisbury, estimate of, ii. 118, 373-4; - Chartres studies described by, ii. 130-2; - attitude of, to the classics, ii. 114, 164, =173=, 531; - Latin style of, ii. 173-4; - _Polycraticus_, ii. 114-15, 174-5; - _Metalogicus_, ii. 173-4; - _Entheticus_, ii. 192; - _De septem septenis_, ii. 375 - - John the Deacon, _Chronicon Venetum_ by, i. 325-6 - - Joinville, Sire de, _Histories_ of St. Louis by, i. 539, =542-9= - - Jordanes, compend of Gothic history by, i. 94 - - Jordanes of Osnabrueck cited, ii. 276 _n. 2_ - - Joseph of Exeter, ii. 225 _n. 2_ - - Jotsaldus, Life of Odilo by, i. 295-6 - - Judaism, emotional elements in, i. 331-2 - - Julianus, _Epitome_ of, ii. 242, =249=, 254 - - Jumieges cloister, ii. 201 - - Jurisprudence (_See also_ Roman law): - Irnerius an exponent of, ii. 256, 259 - Mediaeval renaissance of, ii. 265 - Roman law, in, beginnings of, ii. 232 - - Justinian, _Codex_, _Institutes_, _Novellae_ of, _see under_ Roman law; - _Digest of_, _see_ Roman law--Pandects - - Jutes, i. 140 - - Jutta, i. 447 - - - Keating quoted, i. 136 - - Kilwardby, Richard, Abp. of Canterbury, _De ortu et divisione - philosophiae_ of, ii. 313 - - Kilwardby, Robert, ii. 128 - - Knighthood, order of: - Admission to, persons eligible for, i. 527 - Code of, i. 524 - Hospitallers, i. 531 - Investiture ceremony, i. 525-8 - Love the service of, i. 568, =573= - Templars, i. 531-5 - Virtues and ideals of, i. 529-31, 567-8 - - Knowledge: - Cogitation, meditation, contemplation (Hugo's scheme), ii. 358 _seqq._ - Forms and modes of, Aquinas on--divine, ii. 451-5; - angelic, ii. 459-62; - human, ii. 463 _seqq._ - Grades of, Aquinas on, ii. 461, 467 - Primacy of, over will maintained by Aquinas, ii. 440-1 - - - La Ferte Monastery, i. 362 - - Lambert of Hersfeld, _Annals_ of, i. 313; ii. 167 - - Lambertus Audomarensis, _Liber Floridus_ of, ii. 316 _n. 2_ - - _Lancelot of the Lake_, i. 567, 569-70, =582-5=; - Old French prose version of, i. 583 _seqq._ - - Land tenure, feudal, i. 523-4 - - Lanfranc, Primate of England, i. 174 _n. 1_, =261 n.=, 273 - - _Langue d'oc_, ii. 222, 248 - - _Langue d'oil_, ii. 222, 248 - - Languedoc, chivalric society of (11th and 12th centuries), i. 572 - - Latin classics: - Abaelard's reference to, ii. 353 - Alexandrian antecedents of the verse, ii. 152 _n. 1_ - Artificial character of the prose, ii. 151 _n._ - Breadth of interest of, ii. 109 - Characteristics of, ii. 153 - Chartres a home of, i. 298; ii. 119 - Common elements in, ii. 149, 157 - Dante's attitude toward, ii. 541, 544; - his quotations from, ii. 543 _n. 1_ - Ecclesiastical attitude toward, i. 260; ii. 110 _seqq._, 396-7 - Familiarity with, of Damiani, i. 260; ii. 165; - Gerbert, i. 287-8; ii. 110; - John of Salisbury, ii. 114, 164, =173=, 531; - Bernard of Chartres, ii. 132-3; - Peter of Blois, ii. 133-4; - Hildebert, ii. =141-2=, =146=, 531 - Knowledge-storehouses for the Middle Ages, as, ii. 108 - Mastery of, complete, as affecting mediaeval writings, ii. 164 - Reverential attitude of mediaevals toward, ii. 107-9 - Scripture study as aided by study of, ii. 110, 112, 120 - Suggestions of new ideas from, for Northern peoples, ii. 136 - Themes of, in vernacular poetry, ii. 223 _seqq._ - Twelfth-century study of, ii. 117-18 - - Latin Fathers (_See also their names and_ Patristic thought): - Comparison of, with Greek, i. 68 - Style and diction of, ii. 150, 152 _seqq._ - Symbolism in, ii. 43-6 - Transmutation by, of Greek thought, i. 5, 34 _and_ _n._ - - Latin language: - Britain, position in, i. 10, 32 - Children's letters in, ii. 123 _n._ - Christianity as modifying, ii. 152, =154=, 156, 164, 171 - Continuity of, preserved by universal study of grammar, ii. =122-3=, - 151, 155 - "Cornificiani" in regard to, ii. =132=, 373 - Educational medium as, ii. 109 - Genius of, susceptible of change, ii. 149 - German acquisition of, i. 10, 32, =307-8=, =313=; ii. =123=, 155 - Grammar of, _see_ Grammar - Mediaeval modifications in, ii. 125, 164 - Patristic modifications of, ii. 150, 152 _seqq._; - Jerome's, ii. 152, 171 - Spelling of, mediaeval, i. 219 - Sphere of, ii. 219-20 - Supremacy of (during Roman conquest period), i. 4, =23-4 and n. 1=, - 25, =30-1= - Translations from, scanty nature of, ii. 331 _n. 2_ - Translations into, difficulties of, ii. 498 - Universality of, as language of scholars, ii. 219, 331 _n. 2_ - Vernacular, developments of, ii. 151 - Vitality of, in relation to vernacular tongues, ii. 219 - - Latin prose, mediaeval: - Antecedents of, ii. 151 _seqq._ - Best period of, ii. 167-8 - Bulk of, ii. 157 _n._ - Carolingian, ii. 158-60 - Characteristics of, ii. 156 - Estimation of, difficulties of, ii. 157 _and_ _n._ - Influences upon, summary of, ii. 156 - Prolixity and inconsequence of, ii. 154 - Range of, ii. 154 - Simplicity of word-order in, ii. 163 _n. 1_ - Stages of development of, ii. 157 _seqq._ - Style in, beginnings of, ii. 164 - Stylelessness of, in Carolingian period, ii. 158-60 - Thirteenth-century styles, ii. 179 - Value of, as expressing the mediaeval mind, ii. 156, 164 - - Latin verse, mediaeval: - Accentual and rhyming compositions, ii. 194; - two kinds of, ii. 196 - Antecedents of, ii. 187 _n. 1_ - Carmina Burana (Goliardic poetry), ii. 203, =217-19 and n.= - Development of, stages in, ii. 187 - Leonine hexameters, ii. 199 _and_ _n. 3_ - Metrical composition, ii. 187 _seqq._; - elegiac verse, ii. 190-2 _and_ _n. 1_; - hexameters, ii. 192; - Sapphics, ii. 192-3 _and_ _n. 1_ - Modi, ii. 215-16 - Rhyme, development of, ii. 195, =206= - - Law: - Barbarian, Latin codes of, ii. 244 _seqq._ - Barbaric conception of, ii. 245, 248-9 - _Breviarium_, _see under_ Roman law - Canon, _see_ Canon law - English, principles of, i. 141-2 - Grammar in relation to, ii. 121 - Lombard codes, i. =115=; ii. 242, =246=, 248, 253; - _Concordia_, ii. 259 - Natural: - Gratian on, ii. 268-9 - _Jus gentium_ in relation to, ii. =234 and n.=, 268 - Occam on, ii. 519 - Sacraments of, ii. 74 _and_ _n. 1_ - Supremacy of, ii. 269, 279 - Roman, _see_ Roman law - Salic, ii. 245-6 - Territorial basis of, i. 123; ii. 247 - Tribal basis of, i. 123; ii. =245-7= - Visigothic codification of, in Spain, i. 118 - - Leander, Bp. of Seville, i. 118 _n. 1_ - - Legonais, Chretien, ii. 230 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Leo, Brother, _Speculum perfectionis_ by, ii. 183-4 - - Leo I. (the Great), Pope, i. 113, 116 - - Leo IX., Pope, i. 243 - - Leon, Sir Guy de, i. 552-3 - - Leon, Sir Herve de, i. 552-3 - - Leowigild, i. 117 _n. 2_, 118 _n. 1_ - - Lerins monastery, i. 195 - - Lewis, Lord, of Spain, i. 552-3 - - Liberal arts, _see_ Seven Liberal Arts - - Liutgard of Tongern, i. 463-5 - - Liutprand, Bp. of Cremona i. =256-7=; ii. 161 _n. 1_ - - Liutprand, King of Lombards, i. 115-16 - - Logic (_See also_ Dialectic): - Albertus Magnus on, ii. =313-15=, 504, 506 - Aristotelian, mediaeval apprehension of, ii. 329 (_See also_ - Aristotle--_Organon_) - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. 505 - Gerbert's preoccupation with, i. 282, 289, =292= - Grammar in relation to, ii. 127 _seqq._, 333-4; - in Abaelard's work, ii. 346 - Importance of, in Middle Ages, i. 236; ii. 297 - Nature of, ii. 333; - schoolmen's views on, ii. 313-15, 333 - Occam's views on, ii. 522 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 71 - Raban's view of, i. 222 - Scholastic classification of, ii. 313 _seqq._ - Scholastic decay in relation to, ii. 523 - Second stage of mediaeval development represented by, ii. 332-4 - Specialisation of, in 12th cent., ii. 119 - Theology in relation to, ii. =340 n.=, 346 - Twofold interpretation of, ii. 333 - Universals, problem of, ii. 339 _seqq._; - Abaelard's treatment of, ii. 342, =348= - - Lombard, Peter, estimate of, ii. 370; - Gratian compared with, ii. 270; - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. 497; - _Books of Sentences_ by, i. 17, 18; ii. 134, 370; - method of the work, ii. 306; - Aquinas' _Summa_ contrasted with it, ii. 307-10; - its classification scheme, ii. 322-4; - Bonaventura's commentary on it, ii. 408 - - Lombards: - Italian kingdom of (6th cent.), i. 115-16 - Italian influence on, i. 7, 249 - Law codes of, _see under_ Law - - Louis of Bavaria, Emp., ii. 518 - - Louis I. (the Pious), King of France, i. 233, 239, =359=; - false capitularies ascribed to, ii. 270 - - Louis VI. (the Fat), King of France, i. 304-5, 394, 400; ii. 62; - Hildebert's letter on encroachments of, ii. 140, 172 - - Louis IX. (the Saint), King of France, Geoffrey's _Vita_ of, i. 539-42; - Joinville's _Histoire of_, i. 542-9; - Testament of, i. 540 _n. 1_; - otherwise mentioned, i. 476, 507-=9=, 515 - - Love, Aquinas on distinguishing definitions of, ii. 475-6 - - Love, chivalric: - Antique conception of love contrasted with, i. 575 - _Chansons de geste_ as concerned with, i. 564 - Code of, by Andrew the Chaplain, i. 575-6 - Dante's exposition of, ii. 555-6 - Estimate of, mediaeval, i. 568, 570 - Literature of, _see_ Chivalry--Literature - Marriage in relation to, i. 571 _and_ _n. 2_ - _Minnelieder_ as depicting, ii. 30 - Nature of, i. 572-5, 582-7 - Stories exemplifying--_Tristan_, i. 577 _seqq._; - _Lancelot_, 582 _seqq._ - - Love, spiritual: - Aquinas' discussion of, ii. 472-3, 476 - Bernard of Clairvaux as exemplifying, i. 394 _seqq._ - - Lupus, Servatus, Abbot of Ferrieres, i. 215; - ii. 113 - - Luxeuil, i. 175-7 - - Lyons: - Diet of the "Three Gauls" at, i. 30 - Law studies at, ii. 250 - - - Macrobius, _Saturnalia_ of, ii. 116 _and_ _n. 4_ - - Magic, i. =46-8=; ii. 500 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Majolus, Abbot of Cluny, i. 359 - - Manichaeism, i. =49=; ii. =44=, 283 - - Manny, Sir Walter, i. 552-4 - - Mapes (Map), Walter, i. =475=, 567; ii. 219 _n._ - - Marie, Countess, de Champagne, i. 566, 573, =576= - - Marie de France, i. =566=, 567, 573; - _Eliduc_ by, i. 571 _n. 2_ - - Marinus (hermit), i. 373 - - Marozia, i. 242 - - Marriage: - Christian attitude toward, ii. 8; - ecclesiastical view, ii. 529 - Feudalism as affecting, i. 571, 586 - German view of, ii. 30 - - Marsilius of Padua, ii. 277 _n. 2_ - - Martin, St., of Tours, i. 334; - Life of, i. 52 and _n._, 84, 85 _n. 2_, =86= - - Martyrs: - Mediaeval view of, i. 483 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 86 - - Mary, St., of Ognies, i. =462-3=; - nature of visions of, i. 459 - - Massilia, i. 26 - - Mathematics: - Bacon's views on, ii. 499-500 - Gerbert's proficiency in, i. 282, =288= - - Mathew Paris cited, ii. 487 - - Matthew of Vendome, _Ars versificatoria_ by, ii. 190 _and_ _n. 5_ - - Maurus, Rabanus, _see_ Rabanus - - Mayors of the palace, i. 240 - - Mechthild of Magdeburg, i. 20, 345; ii. 365; - Book of, i. 465 _and_ _n. 2_-70 - - Mediaeval thought: - Abstractions, genius for, ii. 280 - Characteristics of, i. 13 - Commentaries characteristic of, ii. 390, 553 _n. 4_ - Conflict inherent in, i. 22; ii. =293-4= - Deference of, toward the past, i. 13; ii. 534 - Emotionalizing by, of patristic Christianity, i. 345 - Metalogics rather than metaphysics the final stage of, ii. 337 - Moulding forces of, i. 3, 5, 12; ii. =293-4= - Orthodox character of, ii. 283 _and_ _n._ - Political theorizing, ii. 275 _seqq._ - Problems of, origins of, ii. 294-5 - Restatement and rearrangement of antique matter the work of, i. 13-15, - =224=, 237, =292=, 342; ii. 297, 329, 341: - Culmination of third stage in, ii. 394 - Emotional transformations of the antique, i. 18 _seqq._ - Intellectual transformations of the antique, i. 14 _seqq._ - Salvation the main interest of, i. =58-9=, 334; ii. =296-7=, 300 - Scholasticism, _see that heading_ - Superstitions accepted by, i. 487 - Symbolism the great influence in, ii. 43, 102, 365 - Three stages of, ii. 329 _seqq._ - Ultimate intellectual interests of, ii. 287 _seqq._ - - Medicine: - Relics used in, i. 299 - Smattering of, included in Arts course, ii. 250 - Study of--in Italy, i. 250 _and_ _n. 4_, =251=; ii. 383 _n._ - at Chartres, i. 299; ii. 372 - - Mendicant Orders, _see_ Dominican _and_ Franciscan - - Merovingian Kingdom: - Character of, i. 208 - Church under, i. 194 - Extent of, i. 210 _n. 3_ - German conquests of, i. 121, 138 - - Merovingian period: - Barbarism of, i. 9 - Continuity of, with Carolingian, i. 210-12 - King's law in, ii. 247 - - Merovingians, estimate of, i. 195 - - Metaphor distinguished from allegory, ii. 41 _n._ (_See also_ Symbolism) - - Metaphysics: - Final stage of mediaeval development represented by, ii. 335-7 - Logic, mediaeval, in relation to, ii. 334 - Theology dissociated from, by Duns, ii. 510, 516, =517= - - Michelangelo quoted, ii. 113 - - Middle Ages (_See also_ Mediaeval thought): - Beginning of, i. 6 - Extremes characteristic of, i. 355 - - Milan, lawyers in, ii. 251 _n. 2_ - - _Miles_, signification of word, i. 525-6 _and_ _n. 2_ - - _Minnelieder_, ii. 28-31 - - Minorites, i. 430 (_See also_ Franciscan Order) - - Miracles (_See also_ Irrationality): - Devil, concerned with, i. 488 _seqq._ - _Nostre Dame, Miracles de_, i. 491-2 - Patristic attitude toward, i. =85-6=, =100=, 182 - Roman Empire aided by, belief as to, ii. 536 - Salimbene's instance of, i. 516 - Universal acceptance of, i. =74=, 182 - _Vitae sanctorum_ in regard to, i. 85 _and_ _n. 2_ - - Mithraism, i. 49 - - Modena (Mutina), i. 24 - - Modi, ii. 215-16 - - Monasteries: - Immunities granted to, i. 523 _and_ _n._ - _Regula_ of, meaning of, ii. 62 - - Monasticism (_For particular Monasteries, Orders, etc., see their - names_): - Abuses of, i. 357-8; Rigaud's _Register_ quoted, i. 477-481 - Benedictine rule: - Adoption of--in England, i. 184; - among the Franks, i. 199, 201; - generally, i. 358 - Papal approval of, i. 335 - Cassiodorus a pioneer in literary functions of, i. 94 - General mediaeval view regarding, i. =472=; ii. 529 - Ideal _v._ actual, i. 355 - Ireland, in, i. 135 _n. 1_ - Lament over deprivations of, ii. 218-19 - Modifications of, by St. Francis, i. 366 - Motives of, i. 357 - Nature of, i. 336-7 - Nuns, _see_ Women--monastic life - Origin of, i. 335 - Pagan literature condemned by, i. 260 - Popularity of, in 5th and 6th centuries, i. 195-6 - Poverty--of monks, i. 365; - of Orders, i. 366, =425=, =430= - Reforms of, i. 358 _seqq._ - Schools, monastic, in Italy, i. 250 _n. 2_ - Sex-relations as regarded by, i. 338 - Studies of, in 6th cent., i. 94, 95 - Subordinate monasteries, supervision of, i. 361 - Uncloistered, _see_ Dominican _and_ Franciscan - _Vita activa_ accepted by, i. 363-6 - _Vita contemplativa_, _see that title_ - Women vilified by devotees of, i. =354 n.=, 521 _n. 2_, 532, =533=; - ii. 58 - - Montanists, 332 - - Monte Cassino, i. 250 _n. 2_, 252-3 - - Montfort, Countess of, i. 552-4 - - Moorish conquest of Spain, i. 9, 118 - - Morimond monastery, i. 362 - - Mosaics, i. 345-7 - - Music: - Arithmetic in relation to, ii. 291 - Chartres studies in, i. 299 - Poetry and, interaction of, ii. 195-=6=, =201-2= - Scholastic classification of, ii. 313 - - Mysticism: - Hugo's strain of, ii. 361-3 - Nature of, i. 443 _n. 1_; ii. =363 and n. 4= - Symbolism as expressing, _see_ Symbolism - - - Narbo, i. 26 - - Narbonensis, _see_ Provincia - - Narbonne, law studies at, ii. 250 - - Natural history and science, _see_ Physical science - - Nemorarius, Jordanus, ii. 501 - - Neo-Platonism: - Arabian versions of Aristotle touched with, ii. 389 - Augustinian, i. =55=; ii. 403 - Christianity compared with, i. 51; - Patristic habit of mind compared, ii. 295 - Ecstasy as regarded by, i. 331 - Metaphysics so named by, ii. 336 - Pseudo-Dionysian, i. 54 _and_ _n. 1_ - Tenets and nature of, i. 41-9; - a mediatorial system, i. 50, 54, 57-8, 70 - Trinity of, ii. 355 - - Neustria, i. 200, =209=, 239 - - _Nibelungenlied_, i. 145-6, =148-9=, 152, 193, 203 _n. 2_; ii. 220 - - Nicholas II., Pope, i. 243 _n. 2_ - - Nicholas III., Pope, i. 504 - - Nicholas IV., Pope (Jerome of Ascoli), ii. 491 - - Nicholas, St., sequence for festival of, ii. 213-15 - - Nicolas of Damascus, ii. 427 - - Nilus, St., Abbot of Crypta-Ferrata, i. 374 _n._ - - Nithard, Count, i. 234-5 - - Nominalism, i. 303 - - Norbert, ii. 344 - - Normandy, Norse occupation of, i. 153 - - Norsemen (Scandinavians, Vikings): - Characteristics of, i. 138, =154-5= - Continental and insular holdings of, i. 153 - Eddic poems of, i. 154-5 _and_ _n. 3_ - Irish harassed by, i. 133-4; - later relations, i. 152 _n. 3_ - Jumieges cloister sacked by, ii. 201 - Metal-working among, i. 152 _n. 3_ - Ravages by, in 8th and 9th centuries, i. 152-3 - _Sagas_ of, i. 155 _seqq._ - Settling down of, i. 240 - - Notker, i. 308-9 _and_ _n. 1_; sequences of, ii. 201-2 - - Numbers, symbolic phantasies regarding, i. 72 _and_ _nn. 1, 2_; ii. 49 - _n. 3_ - - - Oberon, fairy king, i. 564 _and_ _n._ - - Occam, William of, career of, ii. 518; - estimate of his work, ii. 522-3; - attitude toward Duns, ii. 518 _seqq._; - on faith and reason, ii. 519; - on Universals, ii. 520-1 - - Odilo, Abbot of Cluny, i. =294-5=, 359; - Jotsaldus' biography of, quoted, i. 295-6 - - Odo, Abbot of Cluny, i. 343 _and_ _n. 3_, 359; - Epitome by, of Gregory's _Moralia_, i. 16 _n. 4_; ii. 161 _and_ _n. 2_; - Latin style of _Collationes_, ii. 161-2 - - Odo of Tournai, ii. 340 _n._ - - Odoacer, i. =114=, 145 - - Olaf, St., i. 156, =160-1= - - Olaf Tryggvason, King, i. 156, =161-2= - - Old French: - Formation of, ii. 155 - Latin as studied by speakers of, ii. 123 - Poetry, ii. 222, =225 seqq.= - - Ontology, _see_ Metaphysics - - Ordeal, trial by, i. 232-3 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Ordericus Vitalis, i. 525; - _Historia ecclesiastica_ by, ii. 176-8 - - _Organon_, _see under_ Aristotle - - Origen, estimate of, i. 51, 62-3; - on Canticles, i. =333=; ii. 369; - _De principiis_, i. 68; - otherwise mentioned, i. 53, 76, 80, 87, 104, 411; ii. 64 - - Orleans School: - Classical studies at, ii. 119 _n. 2_, 127 - Law studies at, ii. 250 - Rivalry of, with Chartres, ii. 119 _n. 2_ - - Orosius, i. =82= _and_ _n. 1_, 188 - - Ostrogoths, i. 7, 113, =114-15=, 120 - - Otfrid the Frank, i. =203-4=, 308 - - Other world: - Irish beliefs as to, i. 131 _and_ _n. 2_ - Voyages to, mediaeval narratives of, i. 444 _n. 1_ - - Othloh, i. 315; - visions of, i. 443; - _Book concerning the Temptations of a certain Monk_, i. 316-23 - - Otric, i. 289-91 - - Otto I. (the Great), Emp., i. =241-3=, 256-7, 309 - - Otto II., Emp., i. 243, =282-3=, =289= - - Otto III., Emp., i. =243=, 283, 284; - _Modus Ottinc_ in honour of, ii. 215-216 - - Otto IV. (of Brunswick), Emp., i. 417; ii. =32-3= - - Otwin, Bp. of Hildesheim, i. 312 - - Ovid, _Ars amatoria_ of, i. 574-5; - mediaeval allegorizing of, and of _Metamorphoses_, ii. 230 - - Oxford University: - Characteristics of, ii. 388-9 - Curriculum at, ii. 387-8 - Foundation of, ii. 380, =386-7= - Franciscan fame at, ii. 400 - Greek studies at, ii. 120, 391, 487 - - - Palladius, Bp., i. 172 - - Pandects, _see under_ Roman law - - Papacy (_See also_ Church _and_ Popes): - Ascendancy of, over prelacy, i. 304 - Character of, ii. 32 - Denunciations against, i. 475; ii. 34-5, 218 - Empire's relations with: - Concordat of Worms, i. 245 _n. 4_ - Conflict (11th cent.), i. 244; - (12th cent.), i. 245 _n. 4_; ii. 273; - (13th cent.), ii. 33, =34-5=; - (14th cent.), ii. 518; - allegory as a weapon in, ii. 60 - Recognition of ecclesiastical authority, ii. 265-7, 272-3 - Reforms by Otto I., i. 243 - Gregory VII.'s claims for, i. 245; ii. 274 - Mendicant Orders' relations with, ii. =398=, 509 - Nepotism of, i. =504-5=, 511 - Schisms of popes and anti-popes, i. 264 - Temporal power of, rise of, i. 116; - claims advanced, i. 245; - realized, ii. 274, 276-7 - - Papinian cited, ii. 235 - - Paraclete oratory: - Abaelard at, ii. 10, 344 - Heloise at, ii. 10 _seqq._ - - Paradise: - Dante's _Paradiso_, _see under_ Dante - Hildegard's visions of, i. 455-6 - - Paris: - Schools: - Growth of, ii. 380 - Notre Dame and St. Genevieve, ii. 383 - St. Victor, ii. =61-3=, 143, 383 - University: - Aristotle prohibited at, ii. 391-2 - Authorities on, ii. 381 _n._ - Bacon at, ii. 488 - Bonaventura at, ii. 403 - Curriculum at, ii. 387-8 - Dominicans and Franciscans at, ii. 399 - Prominence of, in philosophy and theology, ii. 283, =378-9= - Rise, constitution, and struggles of, ii. 119-20, 383-6 - Viking sieges of, i. 153 - - Parma, i. 497, 505-6 - - _Parsival_: - Chretien's version of, i. 567, =588-9= - Wolfram's version of, i. 12 _n._, 571 _n. 2_, =589-613=; ii. =29= - - Paschal controversy, _see_ Eucharistic - - Paschasius, Radbertus, Abbot of Corbie i. 215, =225-7= - - Patrick, St., i. 172-3 - - Patristic thought and doctrine (_See also_ Greek thought, patristic, - _and_ Latin Fathers): - Abaelard's attitude toward, ii. 305 - Achievement of exponents of, i. 86-7 - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. 492 - Completeness of schemes presented by, ii. 394 - Emotion as synthesized by, i. 340-2 - Intellectual rather than emotional, i. 343-4; - emotionalizing of, by mediaeval thinkers, i. 345 - Latin medium of, i. 5 - Logic as regarded by, i. 71 - Mediaeval attitude toward, i. 16 - Miracle accepted by, i. 51-3, =85-6= - Natural knowledge as treated by, i. =61 seqq.=, =72-3=, =76-7=, 99; - ii. 393 - Pagan philosophy permeating exponents of, i. =33-4=, =58=, 61 - Philosophy as classified by, ii. 312 - Rearrangement of, undertaken in Carolingian period, i. =224=, 237 - Symbolism of, _see under_ Symbolism - - Paulinus of Aquileia, i. 215 - - Paulinus, St., of Nola, i. =86=, 126 _n. 2_ - - Paulus--on _jus_, ii. 237: - _Sententiae_ of, ii. 243 - - Paulus, St., i. 84, 86 - - Paulus Diaconus, i. 214-15, 252 - - Pavia, law school at, ii. 251, =259= - - Pedro, Don, of Castille, i. 554-5 - - Pelagians, i. 225 - - Pelagius, i. 172 _n._ - - Peripatetic School, i. 38-9 - (_See also_ Aristotle) - - Peter, Bro., of Apulia, i. 512-14 - - Peter, disciple of St. Francis, i. 426 - - Peter Damiani, _see_ Damiani - - Peter of Blois, ii. 133-4 - - Peter of Ebulo, ii. 190 - - Peter of Maharncuria, ii. 502-4 - - Peter of Pisa, i. 214 - - Peter the Venerable, Abbot of Cluny, i. 360; - letter of, to Heloise, ii. 25-7 - - Petrarch, ii. 188, =219= - - Petrus Riga, _Aurora_ of, ii. 127 - - Philip VI., King of France, i. 551 - - Philip Augustus, King of France, ii. 33 - - Philip Hohenstauffen, Duke of Suabia, i. 481; ii. =32=, 33 - - Philo, i. 37, =231=; - allegorizing of, ii. =42=, 364 - - Philosophy: - Division of, schemes of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - End of: - Abaelard's and Hugo's views on, ii. 352, 361 - John of Salisbury on, ii. 375 - - Philosophy, antique: - Divine source of, Bacon's view as to, ii. 507 _n. 2_ - "First" (Aristotelian), ii. 335 - Position of, in Roman Empire (3rd-6th cent.), i. 34 (_See also_ - Greek thought) - - Philosophy, Arabian, ii. =389-90=, 400-1 - - Philosophy, scholastic: - Completeness of, in Aquinas, ii. 395 - Divisions of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - Importance of, as intellectual interest, ii. 287-8 - Physical sciences included in, _see_ Physical science - Theology as the end of (Abaelard's and Hugo's view), ii. 352, 361 - Theology distinguished from, ii. 284, 288; - by Aquinas, ii. =290=, 311; - by Bonaventura, ii. 410 _and_ _n._; - considered as superior to, by Aquinas, ii. 289-=90=, =292=; - dominated by (Bacon's contention), ii. 496; - dissociated from, by Duns and Occam, ii. 510, =517=, 519 - - Physical science: - Albertus Magnus' attitude toward, ii. 423; - his works on, ii. 425-9 - Bacon's predilection for, ii. 486-7 - Classifications of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - Experimental science or method, ii. 502-8 - Mediaeval attitude toward, i. 300 - Oxford school of, ii. 389 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 63, 66-7, =72-3=, =76-7=, 99; ii. 393 - Theology as subserved by, ii. =67=, 111, =289=, =486=, =492=, =496=, - 500, 530; - denial of the theory--by Duns, ii. 510; - by Occam, ii. 519-20 - - _Physiologus_, i. =76-7 and n.=, 300; ii. 83 - - Pippin of Heristal, i. =208-9=; ii. 197 - - Pippin of Neustria, i. 115, =200=, =209=, 210 and _n. 1_; ii. 273 - - Pippin, son of Charlemagne, ii. 197 - - Placentia (Piacenza), i. 24 - - Placentinus, ii. 261-2 - - Plato, supra-rationalism of, i. 42; - allegorizing by, i. 36; ii. 364; - doctrine of ideas, i. =35=; ii. 339-340; - Aquinas on this doctrine, ii. 455, 465; - Augustine of Hippo as influenced by, ii. 403; - "salvation" suggestion in, ii. 296 _n. 2_; - _Republic_, i. 36; - _Timaeus_, i. =35-6=, 291; ii. 64, 69, =118=, 348, 370, 372, =377= - - Platonism: - Alanus' _Anticlaudianus_, in, ii. 100 _n. 2_ - Augustinian, i. 55 - Nature of, i. =35-6=, 57, 59 - Philosophy as classified by, ii. 312 - - Pliny the Elder, _Historia naturalis_ by, i. 39-40, 75 - - Plotinus, estimate of, i. 43, 45; - personal affinity of Augustine with, i. 55-7; - philosophic system of, i. =42=-6, 50, 51; - _Enneads_ of, i. 55; - otherwise mentioned, i. 50, 51; ii. 64 - - Plutarch, i. 44 - - Poetry, mediaeval: - Carmina Burana (Goliardic poetry), ii. 203, =217-19 and n.= - Chivalric, _see_ Chivalry--Literature - Hymns, _see that heading_ - Italian, of 11th cent., i. =251 seqq.=; ii. 186 - Latin, _see_ Latin verse - Modi, ii. 215-16 - Music and, interaction of, ii. 195-=6=, =201-2= - Old High German, ii. 194 - Popular verse, _see sub-headings_ Carmina _and_ Modi; _also_ Vernacular - Prosody, Alexander de Villa-Dei on, ii. 126 - Vernacular: - Germanic, Norse, and Anglo-Saxon, ii. 220-1 - Romance, ii. 221-3, 225 _seqq._ - - Pontigny monastery, i. 362 - - Poor of Lyons (Waldenses), i. 364, =365 n.=; ii. 34 - - Popes (_See also_ Papacy; _and for particular popes see their names_): - Avignon, at, ii. 510 - Decretals of, _see under_ Canon law - Degradation of (10th cent.), i. 242 - Election of, freed from lay control, i. 243 _n. 2_ - - Popular rights, growth of, in 12th cent., i. 305 - - Porphyry, i. 42, =44-7=, 50, 51, 56; ii. 295; - _Isagoge_ (Introduction to the _Categories_ of Aristotle), i. 45, 92, - 102; ii. 312, =314 n.=, 333, =339= - - Preaching Friars, _see_ Dominican Order - - Predestination, Gottschalk's controversy as to, i. 224-5, 227-=8= - - Priscianus, i. 71; ii. 119 _n. 2_; - _Institutiones grammaticae_ of (_Priscianus major_ and _minor_), ii. - 124-5 - - Prosper of Aquitaine, i. 106 _n. 1_ - - Provencal literature, i. 571; ii. 168; - Alba (aube) poetry, i. 20, =571=; ii. 30 - - Provincia (Narbonensis): - Antique, the, in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 9 - Latinization of, i. 26-7 _and_ _n. 1_ - Ligurian inhabitants of, i. 126 - Teutonic invasion of, i. 125 - - Prudentius, ii. 63; - _Psychomachia_ of, ii. 102-4 - - Pseudo-Callisthenes, _Life and Deeds of Alexander_ by, ii. 224, 225, - =229-230= - - Pseudo-Dionysius, ii. 302; - _Celestial Hierarchy_ by, i. 54 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Pseudo-Turpin, ii. 319 - - Ptolemy of Alexandria, i. 40 - - Purgatory: - Dante's _Purgatorio_, _see under_ Dante - Hildegard's visions as to, i. 456 _n._ - Popular belief as to, i. 486 - - - _Quadrivium_, _see under_ Seven Liberal Arts - - - Rabanus Maurus, Abp. of Mainz, allegorizing of Scripture by, ii. 46-7; - interest in the vernacular, i. 308; - works of, i. 222-41; - _De universo_, i. 300; ii. 316 _n. 2_; - _Allegoriae in universam sacram scripturam_, ii. 48-9; - _De laudibus sanctae crucis_, ii. 49 _n. 3_; - otherwise mentioned, i. 16, 100, 215; ii. 302-303, 312, 332 - - Race, tests for determining, i. 124 _n._ - - Radbertus, _see_ Paschasius - - _Raoul de Cambrai_, i. 563-4 - - Ratherius, i. 309 and =n. 2= - - Ratramnus of Corbie, i. 215, 227; ii. 199 - - Ravenna: - Gerbert's disputation in, i. 289-91 - Grammar and rhetoric studies at, ii. 121 - Law studies at, ii. 251, 252 - S. Apollinaris in Classe, i. 373, 377 - - Raymond of Agiles quoted, i. 536 - - Realism, Duns' exposition of, ii. 514 _and_ _n._ - - Reason _v._ authority controversy: - Berengar's position in, i. 302-3 - Eriugena's contribution to, i. 229-=30= - - Reccared, i. 118 _nn._ - - Reinhard, Bp. of Halberstadt, ii. 62 - - Relics of saints and martyrs: - Arms enshrining, i. 528 - Curative use of, i. 299 - Patristic attitude toward, i. 86, 101 _n._ - - Renaissance, misleading nature of term, i. 211 _n._ - - _Renaud de Montaubon_, i. 564 - - Rheims cathedral school, i. 293 - - Rhetoric: - Chartres study of, i. 298 - Hugo of St. Victor on, ii. 67 - Predominance of, i. 109 _and_ _n._ - - Richard, Abbot of Jumieges, i. 480-1 - - Richard of Middleton, ii. 512 - - Richard of St. Victor, ii. 80, =87= _and_ _n. 2_, =367 n. 2=, 540 - - Richer, Abbot of Monte Cassino, i. 252, 300 _n. 2_; - history of Gerbert by, quoted, i. 287-91 - - Ricimer, Count, i. 113 - - Riddles, didactic, i. 218-19 _and_ _n. 1_ - - Rigaud, Eude (Oddo Rigaldus), Abp. of Rouen, i. =476=, =508=, 509; - _Register_ of, quoted, i. 476-81 - - Robert, cousin of St. Bernard, i. 395-7 - - Robert of Normandy, ii. 139 - - Rollo, Duke, of Normandy, i. 153, 239-40 - - _Roman de la rose_, i. =586-7=; ii. 103 _and_ _nn._, 104, 223 - - _Roman de Thebes_, ii. 227, =229 n.= - - Roman Empire: - Barbarization of, i. 5, 7, =111 seqq.= - Billeting of soldiers, custom as to, i. 114 _n._, 117 - Christianity accepted by, i. 345 - Church, relations with, ii. 265-7, 272-3 - Cities enjoying citizenship of--in Spain, i. 26 _and_ _n. 2_; - in Gaul, i. 30 - City life of, i. 27, 326 - Clientage system under, i. 117 _n. 2_ - Dante's views on, ii. 536 - Decadence of, i. =84=, 97, =111= - Eastern, _see_ Eastern Empire - Enduring nature of, conditions of, i. 238 _n._ - Greek thought diffused by, i. 4 - Italian people under, i. 7 - Jurisconsults of, authority and capacity of, ii. 232-3 _and_ _n._, 236 - Latinization of Western Europe due to, i. 23 _seqq._, 110 - Mediaeval attitude toward, i. 11 - Scandinavians under influence of, i. 152 _n. 3_ - - Roman law: - Auditory, Imperial or Praetorian, ii. 233 _n._, 235 _n. 1_ - Bologna famed for study of, ii. =121=, 251, =259-62=, 378 - _Brachylogus_, ii. 254-5 - _Breviarium_ and its _Interpretatio_, i. =117=; ii. 243-4; - Epitomes of, ii. 244, =249-50=; - _Brachylogus_ influenced by, ii. 254 - Burgundian tolerance of, i. 121; - code (_Papianus_), ii. 239, =242= - Church under, ii. 265 _and_ _n. 2_ - Codes of: - Barbaric, nature of, ii. 244 - (_See also sub-headings_ Breviarium _and_ Burgundian) - Gregorianus', ii. 240, 243 - Hermogenianus', ii. 240, 243 - Nature of, ii. 239-40 - Theodosian, ii. 240 _and_ _n. 2_, 241 _n. 2_, 242-3, =249=, =266-7 - and n. 1= - _Codex_ of Justinian, ii. =240=, =242=, 253: - Azo's and Accursius' work on, ii. 263-4 - Glosses to, ii. 249-50 - Placentinus' _Summa_ of, ii. 262 - _Summa Perusina_ an epitome of, ii. =249=, 252 - _Constitutiones_ and _rescripta principum_, ii. =235 and n. 1=, 239, - =240= - Custom recognized by, ii. 236 - Digest of, by Justinian, _see subheading_ Pandects - Elementary education including smattering of, ii. 250 - Epitomes of, various, ii. 249-50; - _Epitome of Julianus_, ii. 242, =249=, 254 - Glosses: - Accursius' _Glossa ordinaria_, ii. 263-4 - Irnerius', ii. 261 _and_ _n. 1_ - Justinian's _Codex_, to, ii. 249-50 - Gothic adoption of, i. 114 - _Institutes_ of Gaius, ii. 241, 243 - _Institutes_ of Justinian, ii. =241=, 243, =254=: - Azo's _Summa_ of, ii. 263 - Placentinus' _Summa_ of, ii. 262 - Jurisprudential element in early stages of, ii. 232 - _Jus_ identified with _aequitas_, ii. 235 - _Jus civile_, ii. 237, 257 - _Jus gentium_: - _Jus naturale_ in relation to, ii. 234 _and_ _n._ - Origin of, ii. 233-4 - Popular rights as regarded by, ii. 278 - _Jus praetorium_, ii. 235 - _Lex romana canonice compta_, ii. 252 - Lombard attitude toward, i. 115 - _Novellae_ of Justinian, ii. 240, =242= - Pandects (Justinian's _Digest_), ii. 235 _and_ _n. 2_, =236-8=, - =241=-2, 248, 253, 255: - Accursius' _Glossa_ on, ii. 264 - Glossators' interpretation of, ii. 265 - Permanence of, ii. 236 - _Petrus_ (_Petri exceptiones_), ii. 252-4 - Placentinus' work in, ii. 261-2 - Principles of, examples of, ii. 237-8; - possession and its rights, ii. 256-8 - Principles of interpretation of, ii. 256 - Provincia, in, i. 27 _n. 1_ - _Responsa_ or _auctoritas jurisprudentium_, ii. 235-6 - Sources of, multifarious, ii. 235 - Sphere of, ii. 248 - Study of, centres for--in France, ii. 250; - in Italy, ii. =121=, 251 _and_ _n. 2_, =259-62=, 378 - _Summa codicis Irnerii_, ii. 255 - Theodosian Code, _see under subheading_ Codes - Treatises on, mediaeval, ii. 252 _seqq._ - Twelve Tables, ii. 232, 236 - Visigothic code of, _see subheading_ _Breviarium_ - - Romance, spirit of, i. 418 - - Romance languages (_See also_ Old French): - Characteristics of, ii. 152 - Dante's attitude toward, ii. 537 - Latin as modified by, ii. 155 - Literature of, ii. 221-3 - (_See also_ Provencal literature) - Strength of, i. 9 - - Romance nations, mediatorial role of, i. =110-11=, 124 - - _Romans d'aventure_, i. =564-5=, 571 _n. 2_ - - Rome: - Bishops of, _see_ Popes - Factions in (10th cent.), i. 242 - Law School in, ii. 251, 255 - Mosaics in, i. 347 - Verses to, i. 348; ii. =200= - - Romualdus, St., youth of, i. 373; - austerities of, i. 374, =379=, 381; - relations with his father, i. 374-5; - harshness and egotism of, i. 375-7; - at Vallis de Castro, i. 376-7, 380; - at Sytrio, i. 378-9; - death of, i. 372 _n. 3_, =380=; - Commentary of, on the Psalter, i. 379 - - Romulus Augustulus, Emp., i. 114 - - Roncesvalles, battle of, i. 559 _n. 2_-62 - - Roscellinus, i. 303-4; ii. 339-=40= - - Rothari, King of Lombards, i. 115; ii. 251 - - Ruadhan, St., i. 132-3 - - Ruotger, Life of Abp. Bruno by, i. 310; ii. 162 _and_ _n. 1_ - - - _Sacra doctrina_, _see_ Theology - - Sacraments, _see under_ Church - - _Sagas_, Norse: - Character of, i. 12 _n._, 155 _seqq._ - _Egil_, i. 162-4 - _Gisli_, i. 158 - _Heimskringla_, i. 160-2 _and_ _n. 2_ - _Njala_, i. 157 _and_ =n.=, =159=, =164-7= - Oral tradition of, ii. 220 - - St. Denis monastery, ii. 10, =344= - - St. Emmeram convent (Ratisbon), i. 315, =316= - - St. Gall monastery, i. 257-8; - Notker's work at, ii. 201-2 - - St. Victor monastery and school, ii. =61-3=, 143, 383 - - Saints: - Austerities of, i. 374 _and_ _n._, 375 - Interventions of, mediaeval beliefs as to, i. 487-8, 490 - Irish clergy so called, i. 135 _n. 2_ - Lives of: - Compend. of (_Legenda Aurea_), ii. 184 - Conventionalized descriptions in, i. 393 _n. 1_ - Defects of, i. 494 - Estimate of, i. =84-5 and nn.= - otherwise mentioned, i. 298, 300 - Relics of, _see_ Relics - Visions of, i. 444-5 - Worship of, i. 101 - - Salerno medical school, i. =250 n. 4=, =251=; ii. 121 - - Salian Franks, _see under_ Franks - - Salimbene, i. 496-7, 499-500; - _Chronica_ of, quoted and cited, i. 498 _seqq._; - editions and translations of the work, i. 496 _n._ - - Salvation, _see under_ Christianity - - Salvian, _De gubernatione Dei_ by, i. 84 - - Saracens: - Crusades against, _see_ Crusades - Frankish victories against, i. 209-10 _n. 1_ - Wars with, necessitating mounted warriors, i. 525 - otherwise mentioned, i. 239, 252, 274, 332 - - Saxons, _see_ Anglo-Saxons _and_ Germans - - Scandinavians, _see_ Norsemen - - Scholasticism: - Arab analogy with, ii. 390 _and_ _n. 2_ - Aristotle's advanced works, stages of appropriation of, ii. 393-5 - Bacon's attack on, ii. 484, =493-4=, =496=, 509 - Classification of topics by: - Schemes of, various, ii. 312 _seqq._ - Twofold principle of, ii. 311 - Conceptualism, ii. 520-1 - Content of, i. 301 - Deference to authority a characteristic of, ii. 297, 300 - Disintegration of--through Duns, ii. 510, 516; - through Occam, ii. 522-3 - Elementary nature of discussions of, ii. 347 - Evil, problem of, _see_ Evil - Exponents of, ii. 283 _and_ _n._ - Final exposition of, by Aquinas, ii. 484 - Greek thought contrasted with, ii. 296 - Humour non-existent in, ii. 459 - Method of, ii. =302=, =306-7=, 315 _n._; - prototype of, i. 95 - Nominalism, ii. 340 - Philosophy of, _see_ Philosophy, scholastic - Phraseology of, untranslatable, ii. 348, 483 - _Praedicables_, ii. 314 _n._ - Present interest of, ii. 285 - Realism, ii. 340; - Pantheism in relation to, ii. 370 - Salvation a main interest of, ii. =296-7=, 300, 311 - Scriptural authority, position of, ii. 289, =291-2= - Secular studies as regarded by, ii. 349, 357 - Stages of development of, ii. 333 _seqq._ - Sympathetic study of, the key to contradictions, ii. 371 - Theology of, _see_ Theology - Universals, problem of: - Aquinas' treatment of, ii. 462 - Duns' treatment of, ii. 515 - Occam's contribution toward, ii. 520-1 - Roscellin's views on, i. 303-4 - - Sciences, classifications of, ii. 312 _seqq._ - (_See also_ Physical science) - - Scotland, Christianizing of, i. 173 - - Scriptures, Christian: - Allegorizing of: - Examples of: - David and Bathsheba episode, ii. 44-6 - Exodus, Book of, ii. 47 - Good Samaritan parable, ii. =53-6=, 84, 90 - Hannah, story of, ii. 47 _n. 1_ - Pharisee and Publican parable, ii. 51-2 - Hugo of St. Victor's view of, ii. 65 _n._ - Writers exemplifying--Philo, ii. 42-43; - the Fathers, ii. =43 seqq.=, 68-9 _and_ _n. 2_; - Rabanus, ii. 46-50; - Bede, ii. 47 _n. 1_; - Honorius of Autun, ii. 51 _seqq._; - Hugo of St. Victor, ii. 67 _seqq._ - Anglo-Saxon version of, i. =142 n. 2=, 183 - Authority of--in patristic doctrine, ii. 295; - acknowledged by Eriugena, i. 231; - by Berengar, i. 303; - in scholasticism, ii. 280, 291-2 - Bacon's attitude toward, ii. =491-2=, 497 - Bonaventura's attitude toward, and writings on, ii. 405 _seqq._ - Canon law based on, ii. 267-9 - Classical studies in relation to, _see subheading_ Secular - Classification of topics based on, ii. 317, 324 - Commentaries on--Alcuin's, i. 220-1; - Raban's, i. 222-3 - Duns' attitude toward, ii. 516 - Francis of Assisi's literal acceptance of, i. 365, 426-=7=; - his realization of spirit of, i. 427 _n. 1_; ii. 183 - Gothic version of, i. 143 _n._ - _Heliand_, i. =203 and nn.=, 308 - Hymns based on, ii. 88 _seqq._ - Interpretation of--by the Fathers, i. =43 seqq.=, 68-9 _and_ _n. 2_; - by Eriugena, i. 231; - by Berengar, i. 303 - Isidore's writings on, i. 104-5 - Love, human, as treated in Old Testament, i. 332-3 - Scenes from, in Gothic art, ii. 82 _seqq._ - Secular knowledge in relation to, i. 63, =66=; ii. =110=, =112=, 120, - 499 - Song of Songs, _see_ Canticles - Study of, by monks, i. 94; - Cassiodorus' _Institutiones_, i. 95-6 - Theology identified with, ii. 406, 408 - Vulgate, the: - Corruption in Paris copy of, ii. 497 - Language of, ii. 171 - - Sculpture, Gothic: - Cathedrals, evolution of, ii. 538-=9= - Symbolism of, i. 457 _n. 2_; ii. =82-6= - - Sedulius Scotus, i. 215 - - Seneca, i. 26, 41 - - _Sentences, Books of_: - Isidore's, i. 106 _and_ _n. 1_ - Paulus' _Sententiae_, ii. 243 - Peter Lombard's, _see under_ Lombard - Prosper's, i. 106 _n. 1_ - - Sequence-hymns, development of, ii. 196, =201-6=; - Adam of St. Victor's, ii. 209-215 - - Serenus, Bp. of Marseilles, i. 102 - - Sermons, allegorizing: - Bernard of Clairvaux, by, i. 337 _n._, =409-13=; ii. =169=, 368-9 - Honorius of Autun, by, ii. 50 _seqq._ - - Seven Liberal Arts (_See also separate headings_ Grammar, Logic, _etc._): - Alanus de Insulis on functions of, ii. 98 _n. 1_ - Carolingian study of, i. 236 - Clerical education in, i. 221-2 - Compend of, by Cassiodorus, i. 96 - _De nuptiis_ as concerned with, i. 71 _n. 3_ - Hugo of St. Victor on function of, ii. 67, 111 - Latin the medium for, ii. 109 - Law smattering included with, ii. 250 - Quadrivium: - Boethius on, i. 90 _and_ _n. 2_ - Chartres, at, i. 299 - Thierry's encyclopaedia of, ii. 130 - Trivium: - Chartres, at, i. =298-9=; ii. 163 - Courses of, as representing stages of mediaeval development, ii. - 331 _seqq._ - otherwise mentioned, i. 217; ii. 553 - - Severinus, St., i. 192 - - Severus, Sulpicius, i. 126 _n. 2_; - Life of St. Martin by, i. 52, 84, 85 _n. 2_, =86= - - Sidonius, Apollinaris, i. 126 _n. 2_; - cited, i. 117 _n. 1_, 140 - - Siger de Brabant, ii. 401 _and_ _n._ - - _Sippe_, i. 122 - - Smaragdus, Abbot, i. 215 - - Socrates, i. 34-5; ii. 7 - - Songs, _see_ Poetry - - Sophists, Greek, i. 35 - - Sorbon, Robert de, i. 544-5 - - Sorcery, i. 46 - - Spain: - Antique, the, in relation to, before Middle Ages, i. 9 - Arabian philosophy in, ii. 390 - Church in, i. 9, 103, =118 and n.= - Latinization of, i. 25-6 _and_ _n. 2_ - Moorish conquest of, i. 9, 118 - Visigoths in, i. 113, 116-=17 and n. 2=, 118 - - _Stabat Mater_, i. 348 - - Statius, ii. 229 _n._ - - Statius Caecilius, i. 25 - - Stephen IX., Pope, i. 263 - - Stephen, St., sequence for festival of, ii. 211-13 - - Stephen of Bourbon quoted, i. 365 _n._ - - Stilicho, i. 112 - - Stoicism: - Emotion as regarded by, i. 330 - Nature of, i. =41=, 57, 59 - Neo-Platonism contrasted with, ii. 296 - Philosophy as classified by, ii. 312 - Roman law as affected by, ii. 232 - otherwise mentioned, i. 40, 70 - - Strabo, Walafrid, _see_ Walafrid - - Suevi, i. 116-17 _and_ _n. 2_, =139= - - _Summae_, method of, ii. 306-7 - (_See also under_ Theology) - - _Summum bonum_, Aquinas' discussion of, ii. 438 _seqq._, 456 - - Switzerland, Irish monasteries founded in, i. 174 - - Sylvester II., Pope (Gerbert of Aurillac), career of, i. 281-4; - disputation with Otric, i. 289-91; - estimate of, i. 281, =285-7=; - love of the classics, i. =287-8=; ii. 110; - Latin style of, ii. 160; - logical studies of, ii. 332, 338, 339, 345; - letters of, quoted, i. 283-7; - estimated, i. 284-5; - editions of works of, i. 280 _n._; - _Libellus de rationali et ratione uti_, i. =292 n.=, 299; - otherwise mentioned, i. 249; ii. 35 - - Symbolism: - Alanus' _Anticlaudianus_ as exemplifying, ii. 94-103 - Angels as symbols, ii. 457 - Art, mediaeval, inspired by, i. 21 - Augustine and Gregory compared as to, i. 56-7 - Carolingian, nature and examples of, ii. 46-50 - Church edifices, of, ii. 78-82 - Dante permeated with, ii. 534, =552-5= - Greek, nature of, ii. 56-7 - Hildegard's visions, in, i. 456 _seqq._ - Marriage relationship, in, i. 413-14 - Mass, of the, ii. 77-8 - Mediaeval thought deeply impressed by, ii. =43=, 50 _n. 1_, =102=, - =365= - Mysticism in relation to, ii. 364 - Neo-Platonic, i. 52 - Ovid's works interpreted by, ii. 230 - Patristic, i. =37=, =43-6=, 52, 53, 58, =80= - Platonic, i. 36 - Raban's addiction to, i. 223 _and_ _n. 2_ - _Signum et res_ classification, ii. 322-3 - Twelfth century--in Honorius of Autun, ii. 51 _seqq._; - in Hugo of St. Victor, ii. 64 _seqq._ - Universal in mental processes, ii. 41, 552 _n._ - Universe explained by, ii. 64, 66 _seqq._ - otherwise mentioned, i. 15, 22 - - Sytrio, Romualdus at, i. 378-9 - - - Tacitus, i. 78; ii. 134 - - Tears, grace of, i. 370-1 _and_ _n._, 462, 463 - - Templars, i. 531-5 - - Tenth century, _see_ Carolingian period - - Tertullian, i. 5, 58, 87, 99, 171, 332, 344, 354 _n._; ii 152; - paradox of, i. 51; ii. 297; - _Adversus Marcionem_, i. 68 - - Teutons (_See also_ Anglo-Saxons, Danes, Germans, Norsemen): - Celts compared with, i. 125 - Characteristics of, i. 138 - Christianizing of: - Manner of, i. =181-3=, =196-7=, 193; - results of, i. 5, =170=-1 - Motives of converts, i. 193 - Customs of, i. 122, 139, 141, 523 - Law of, early, tribal nature of, ii. 245-7 - Role of, in mediaeval evolution, i. 125 - Roman Empire permeated by, i. 111 _seqq._ - - Theodora, i. 242 - - Theodore, Abp. of Canterbury, i. 184 - - Theodoric of Freiburg, ii. 501 _n._ - - Theodoric the Ostrogoth, i. 89, 91 _n. 2_, 93, =114-15=, 120-1, 138, 249; - in legend, i. 145-6; - Edict of, ii. 244 _n._ - - Theodosius the Great, Emp., i. 112; ii. 272; - Code of, ii. 240 _and_ _n. 2_, 241 _n. 2_, 242, =249=, =266-7 and n. 1= - - Theodulphus, Bp. of Orleans, i. =9=, 215; - Latin diction of, ii. 160 - - Theology, scholastic: - Abaelard's treatises on, _see under_ Abaelard - Aquinas' _Summa_ of, _see under_ Aquinas - Argumentative nature of, ii. 292-3 - Augustinian character of, ii. 403 - Course of study in, ii. 388 - Importance of, as intellectual interest, ii. 287-8 - Logic in relation to, ii. =340 n.=, 346 - Mysticism of, ii. 363-4 - Natural sciences, etc., as handmaids to, ii. =67=, 111, 289, =486=, - =492=, =496=, 500, 530; - denial of the theory--by Duns, ii. 510; - by Occam, ii. 519-520 - (_See also_ Physical science--Patristic attitude toward) - Paris the centre for, ii. 283, =379= - Philosophy in relation to, _see under_ Philosophy - Practical, not speculative, regarded as, ii. 512, =515=, 519 - Scientific nature of, as regarded by Albertus, ii. 291, 430 - Scripture identified with, ii. 406, 408 - _Summae_ of--by Alexander of Hales, ii. 399; - by Bonaventura, ii. 408; - by Albertus Magnus, ii. 430-1; - by Aquinas, _see under_ Aquinas - Thirteenth-century study of, ii. 118-=120= - - Theophrastus, i. 38 - - Theresa, St., i. 443 _n. 1_ - - Theurgic practice, i. 46-8 - - Thierry, Chancellor of Chartres, ii. 119, =370-1=; - _Eptateuchon_ of, ii. 130 _and_ _n._ - - Thirteenth century: - Intellectual interests of, ultimate, ii. 287 - Latin prose styles of, ii. 179 - Papal position in, ii. 509 - Personalities of writers emergent in, ii. 436 - Theology and dialectic the chief studies of, ii. 118-=20= - Three phenomena marking, ii. 378 - - Thomas a Kempis, _De imitatione Christi_ by, ii. 185 - - Thomas Aquinas, _see_ Aquinas - - Thomas of Brittany, _Tristan_ fragment by, i. 582 - - Thomas of Cantimpre, ii. 428-9 - - Thomas of Celano, Life of St. Francis by, quoted, i. 435, 436-8; - style of the work, ii. 182-3 - - Thucydides, _History of the Peloponnesian War_ by, i. 77-8 - - Thuringia: - Boniface's work in, i. 197-8 - Merovingian rule in, i. 121 - - Thuringians, language of, i. 145 _n. 2_ - - Torriti, i. 347 - - Trance, _see_ Ecstasy - - Treves, i. =30=, 31, 192 - - _Tristan_: - Chretien's version of, i. 567 - Gottfried von Strassburg's version of, i. 577-82 - - Trivium, _see under_ Seven Liberal Arts - - Troubadours (trouveres), i. 572-3 _and_ _nn._ - - Troy, tales of, in mediaeval literature, ii. 200, =224-5 and n. 2=, - =227-9= - - True and the good compared, ii. 441, 512 - - Truth, Guigo's _Meditationes_ as concerning, i. 385-6 - - Twelfth century: - Classical studies at zenith in, ii. 117-118 - Growth in, various, i. 305-6 - Intellectual interests of, ultimate, ii. 287 - Literary zenith in, ii. 168, 205-6 - Mobility increased during, ii. 379 - - - Ulfilas, i. 192; ii. 221 - - Ulpian--on _jus naturale_ and _jus gentium_, ii. 234 _and_ _n._; - on _justitia_, _jus_ and _jurisprudentia_, ii. 237 - - Ulster Cycle, Sagas of, i. 128 _and_ _n. 2_, 129 _seqq._ - - Universals, _see under_ Scholasticism - - Universities, mediaeval (_For particular universities see their names_): - Increase in (14th cent.), ii. 523 - Rise of, ii. 379, 381 _seqq._ - Studies at, ii. 388 _and_ _n._ - - Urban II., Pope, ii. 175 - - Urban IV., Pope, ii. 391-2, 434 - - Utrecht, bishopric of, i. 197 - - - Vallombrosa, i. 377 - - Vandals, i. 112, =113=, 120 - - Varro, Terentius, i. 39, 71, 78 - - Vercingetorix, i. 28 - - Vernacular poetry, _see under_ Poetry - - Verse, _see_ Poetry - - Vikings, _see_ Danes _and_ Norsemen - - Vilgard, i. 259-60 - - Vincent of Beauvais, _Speculum majus_ of, ii. 82 _and_ _n. 2_, 315-22 - - Virgil, Bernard Silvestris' _Commentum_ on, ii. 116-17 _and_ _n. 2_; - Dante in relation to, ii. 535, 536, 539, 543 - - Virgin Mary: - Dante's _Paradiso_ as concerning, ii. 551 - Hymns to, by Hugo of St. Victor, ii. 86-7, 92 - Interventions of, against the devil, i. 487, =490-2= - Mediaeval attitude toward, i. 53, 54 _and_ =n. 2=; ii. =431=, =551=, - 558 - - Virtues: - Aquinas' classification of, ii. 326-8 - Odilo's _Cardinales disciplinae_, i. 295 - - Virtues and vices, poetic treatment of--by Alanus, ii. 102 _n._; - by De Lorris and De Meun, ii. 103 - - Visigoths: - Arianism of, i. 120 - Dacian settlement of, i. 112 - Gaul, Southern, kingdom in, i. 7, 112, =116=; - Clovis' conquest of, i. 121 - Roman law code promulgated by, _see_ Roman law--_Breviarium_ - Spain, in, i. 9, 113, 116-=17 and n. 2=, 118 - - Visions: - Examples of, i. 444-6, 451, 452-9 - Monastic atmosphere in, i. 184 _and_ _n. 2_ - Nature of, i. 443, 449 and _n. 3_, =450=, 451 _and_ _n._ - - _Vita contemplativa_: - Aquinas' views on, ii. 443, =481-2= - Hildebert on, ii. 144-5 - - _Vitae sanctorum_, _see_ Saints--Lives of - - - Walafrid Strabo, i. 100, =215=; ii. =332=; - _Glossa ordinaria_ of, i. 16, =221 n. 2=; ii. =46=; - _De cultura hortorum_, ii. 188 _n. 2_ - - Waldenses, i. =365 n.=; ii. 34 - - Walter of Lille (of Chatillon), _Alexandreis_ of, ii. 192 _and_ _n. 3_, - 230 _n. 1_ - - Walther von der Vogelweide, political views of, ii. 33; - attitude of, toward Papacy, ii. 34-6; - piety and crusading zeal of, ii. 36; - melancholy, ii. 36-7; - _Minnelieder_ of, ii. 29-31; - _Sprueche_, ii. 29, =32=, 36; - _Tagelied_, ii. 30; - _Unter der Linde_, ii. 30; - otherwise mentioned, i. 475, =482=, 589; ii. 223 - - _Wergeld_, i. =122=, 139; ii. =246= - - Will, primacy of, over intellect, ii. 512, 515 - - William, Abbot of Hirschau, i. 315 - - William II. (Rufus), King of England, i. 273, 275; ii. =138-9= - - William of Apulia, ii. 189 _and_ _n. 3_ - - William of Champeaux--worsted by Abaelard, ii. 342-3; - founds St. Victor, ii. 61, 143; - Hildebert's letter to, quoted, ii. 143 - - William of Conches, ii. 132; - studies and works of, ii. 372-3; - _Summa moralium philosophorum_, ii. 134-5, 373 _and_ _n. 2_ - - William of Malmsbury cited, i. 525 - - William of Moerbeke, ii. 391 - - William of Occam, _see_ Occam - - William of St. Thierry, ii. 300, 344 - - Willibrord, St., i. 197 - - Winifried-Boniface, St., i. 6, =197-200=, 308; ii. 273 - - Wisdom, Aquinas on, ii. 481 - - Witelo, _Perspectiva_ by, ii. 501 _n._ - - Witiza of Aquitaine, i. 358-9 - - Wolfram von Eschenbach, ii. 223; - _Parzival_ by, i. 12 _n._, 149 _n. 1_, 152, 567, 571 _n. 2_, - =589-613=; ii. =36=; - estimate of the work, i. 588; ii. 29 - - Women: - Emotion regarding, i. 349-50 - Emotional Christ-love experienced by, i. 442, =459 seqq.= - Fabliaux' tone toward, i. 521 _n. 2_ - German prae-mediaeval attitude toward, i. 139, 150; - mediaeval, ii. 31 - Monastic life, in: - Abuses among, i. 491-2; - Rigaud's _Register_ as concerning, i. 479-480 - Consecration of, i. 337 _and_ _n._ - Gandersheim nuns, i. 311 - Visions of, i. 442 _seqq._, 463 _seqq._ - Monkish vilification of, i. =354 n.=, 521 _n. 2_, 532, =533=; ii. 58 - Romantic literature as concerned with, i. 564 - Romantic poems for audiences of, i. 565 - Walther von der Vogelweide on, ii. 31 - - Worms, Concordat of (1122), i. 245 _n. 4_ - - - Xenophon's _Cyropaedia_, i. 78 - - - Year-books (_Annales_), i. 234 _and_ =n. 1= - - Yves, Bp. of Chartres, i. 262 _n._; ii. =139= - - - Zacharias, Pope, i. 199 - - Zoology: - Albertus Magnus' works on, ii. 429 - Aristotle's work in, i. 38 - _Physiologus_, i. =76-7 and n.=, 300; ii. 83 - - -THE END - - -_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] See _post_, Chapter XXXVI., I. - -[2] Lev. xxi. 20; Deut. xxiii. 1. - -[3] Lucan, _Pharsalia_, viii. 94. - -[4] Heloise here in mediaeval fashion cites a number of examples from -Scripture showing the ills and troubles brought by women to men. - -[5] Again she quotes to prove this, from Job and St. Gregory and Ambrose. - -[6] Heloise's last _problema_ did not relate to Scripture, and may have -been suggested by her own life. "We ask whether one can sin in doing what -is permitted or commanded by the Lord?" Abaelard answers with a discussion -of what is permissible between man and wife. - -[7] This letter of Heloise is not extant. - -[8] The _Tristan_ of Gottfried von Strassburg and the _Parzival_ of -Wolfram von Eschenbach have been given. One may also refer to works of -older contemporaries, _e.g._ to the _Aeneid_ of Heinrich von Veldeke, -translated (1184) from a French rendering of Virgil; and the two courtly -narrative poems, the _Erec_ and _Ivain_ (Knight of the Lion) taken from -Chretien of Troies by Hartmann von Aue, who flourished as the twelfth -century was passing into the thirteenth. - -[9] On Walther von der Vogelweide, see Wilmann, _Leben und Dichtung -Walthers, etc._ (Bonn, 1882); Schoenbach, _Walther von der Vogelweide_ (2nd -ed., Berlin, 1895). The citations from his poems in this chapter follow -the Pfeiffer-Bartsch edition. - -[10] No. 3 in the Pfeiffer-Bartsch edition. - -[11] 184. - -[12] 33. - -[13] 22. - -[14] 14, 16, 69. - -[15] 18. - -[16] 39. - -[17] See _Lieder_, 46, 51, 56, 59, 61, 62, 71, 72, 75, 76, 77. - -[18] A lucid account of this struggle is given in Luchaire, _Innocent -III._, vol. iii. ("La Papaute et l'Empire"), Paris, 1906. - -[19] 81. - -[20] From "Freidank in Auswahl," in Hildebrand's _Didaktik aus der Zeit -der Kreuzzuege_, p. 336 (Deutsche Nat. Lit.). - -[21] 85, cf. 164. - -[22] 110. - -[23] 113, cf. 111, 112. - -[24] 115, 116. - -[25] 133. My statement of the opposition to the papacy might be much more -analytical, and contain further apt distinctions. But this would remove it -too far from the anti-papal feeling of the common man; and the period, -moreover, is not yet that of Occam and Marsilius of Padua--as to whom see -Gierke, _Political Theories of the Middle Age_, trans. by Maitland -(Cambridge, 1900). - -[26] 88, 137. - -[27] 158. Walter shared the crusading spirit. The inference that he was -himself a Crusader is unsafe; but he wrote stirring crusading poems, one -opening with a line that in sudden power may be compared with Milton's - - "Avenge, O Lord, Thy slaughtered saints." - - "Rich, herre, dich und dine muoter, megede kint." - 167. See also 78, 79. - -[28] 87. - -[29] _Parzival_, i. 824. - -[30] 186. - -[31] 188. - -[32] While an allegory is a statement having another consciously intended -meaning, metaphor is the carrying over or deflection of a meaning from its -primary application. According to good usage, which has kept these terms -distinct, allegory implies a definite and usually a sustained intention, -and suggests the spiritual; while metaphor suggests figures of speech and -linguistic changes often unconscious. Language develops through the -metaphorical (not allegorical) extension or modification of the meanings -of words. The original meaning sometimes is obscured (_e.g._ in _profane_ -or _depend_), and sometimes continues to exist with the new one. In a vast -number of languages, such words as _straight_, _oblique_, _crooked_, seem -always to have had both a direct and a metaphorical meaning. Moral and -intellectual conceptions necessarily are expressed in phrases primarily -applicable to physical phenomena. - -[33] Cf. Taylor, _Classical Heritage_, p. 97 _sqq._ - -[34] _Ante_, Chapters IV., V. - -[35] _Contra Faustum_, xxii. 1-5. - -[36] _Contra Faustum_, xxii. 66-68. - -[37] Augustine's method in this twenty-second Book is first to consider -the actual sinfulness or justification of these deeds, and afterwards to -take up in succession their typological significance. So, for example, he -discusses the blamefulness of Judah's conduct with Tamar in par. 61-64 and -its typology in 83-86. - -[38] _Contra Faustum_, xxii. 87. St. Ambrose, in his _Apologia Prophetae -David_, cap. iii. (Migne 14, col. 857), written some years before -Augustine's treatise against Faustus, finds Bathsheba to signify the -"congregatio nationum quae non erat Christo legitimo quodam fidei copulata -connubio." - -[39] _Quaestiones in Vet. Testam. in Regum II._ (Migne 83, col. 411). -Isidore died A.D. 636 (_ante_, Chapter V.) - -[40] _Comment. in Libros IV. Regum_, in lib. ii. cap. xi.; Migne, _Pat. -Lat._ 109, col. 98 (written in 834). On Rabanus and Walafrid see _ante_, -Chapter X. - -[41] _Glossa ordinaria, Lib. Regum_, ii. cap. xi. (Migne 113, col. 571, -572). - -[42] _Comment. in Matthaeum_ (Migne 107, col. 734). - -[43] Migne 114, col. 67. - -[44] It was the way of Bede in his commentaries to speak briefly of the -literal or historic meaning of the text, and then give the usual -symbolical interpretations, paying special attention to the significance -of the Old Testament narratives as types of the career of Christ (see -_e.g._ the beginning of the Commentary on Exodus, Migne 92, col. 285 -_sqq._; and Prologue to the allegorical Commentary on Samuel, Migne 92, -col. 501, 502). For example, in the opening of the First Book of Samuel, -Elkanah is a type of Christ, and his two wives Peninnah and Hannah -represent the Synagogue and the Church. When Samuel is born to Hannah he -also is a type of Christ; and Bede says it need not astonish one that -Hannah's spouse and Hannah's son should both be types of Christ, since the -Mediator between God and man is at once the spouse and son of Holy Church: -He is her spouse as He aids her with His confidence and hope and love, and -her son when by grace He enters the hearts of those who believe and hope -and love. In _Samuelam_, cap. iii. (Migne 91, col. 508). Bede's monastic -mind balked at the literal statement that Elkanah had two wives (see the -Prologue, Migne 91, col. 499). - -[45] _Com. in Exodum_, Praefatio (Migne 108, col. 9). - -[46] Migne 112, col. 849-1088. A number of these dictionaries were -compiled, the earliest being the _De formulis spiritalis intellegentiae_ -of Eucherius, Bishop of Lyons, who died in 450, ed. by Pauly 1884. In the -later Middle Ages Alanus de Insulis (_post_, Chapter XXIX.) compiled one. - -[47] These distinctions, not commonly observed, are frequently reiterated. -Says Hugo of St. Victor (see _post_, Chapter XXVIII.) in the Prologue to -his _De sacramentis_: "Divine Scripture, with threefold meaning, considers -its matter historically, allegorically, and tropologically. History is the -narrative of facts, and follows the primary meaning of words; we have -allegory when the fact which is told signifies some other fact in the -past, present, or future; and tropology when the narrated fact signifies -that something should be done." Cf. Hugo's _Didascalicon_, v. cap. 2, -where Hugo illustrates his meaning, and points out that this threefold -significance is not to be found in every passage of Scripture. In _ibid._ -v. cap. 4, he gives seven curious rules of interpretation (Migne 176, col. -789-793). In his _De Scripturis, etc., praenotatiunculae_, cap. 3 (Migne -175, col. 11 _sqq._), Hugo speaks of the anagogical significance in the -place of the tropological. - -[48] Raban's Latin is "Ligabit earn ancillis suis"--the verse in Job xl. -24 reads "Ligabis earn ancillis tuis?" In the English version the verse is -Job xli. 5, "Wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?" - -[49] "Per fidem me cognoverunt"; I surmise a _non_ is omitted. - -[50] The Scriptural citations are omitted. Rabanus wrote an allegorical -_De laudibus sanctae crucis_ (Migne 107, col. 133-294), composed in metre -with prose explanations, which explain very little. The metrical portion -is a puzzle consisting of twenty-eight "figures," or lineal delineations -interwoven in hexameter verses; the words and letters contained within -each figure "make sense" when read by themselves, and form verses in -metres other than hexameters. The whole is as incomprehensible in meaning -as it is indescribable in form. Angels, cherubim and seraphim, tetragons, -the virtues, months, winds, elements, signs of the Zodiac, and other -twelvefold mysteries, the days of the year, the number seven, the five -books of Moses, the four evangelists, the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, -the eight beatitudes, the mystery of the number forty, the sacrament shown -by the number fifty,--all these and much besides contribute to the glory -of the Cross, and are delineated and arranged in cruciform manner, so as -to be included within the scope of the cross's symbolical significance. - -[51] Since allegory and the spirit of symbolism pervaded all mediaeval -thought, the present and two following chapters aim only at setting forth -the elements (with pertinent examples) of this quite limitless subject. - -[52] See prefatory epistle to _Speculum ecclesiae_, Migne 172, col. 813. -Compare the prefatory epistle to the _Gemma animae_, _ibid._ col. 541, and -the Preface to the _Elucidarium_, _ibid._ col. 1109. Probably Honorius -died about 1130. - -[53] We have these sermons only in Latin. Presumably a preacher using -them, gave them in that language or rendered them in the vernacular as he -thought fit. - -[54] "Ommia legalia Christus nobis convertit in sacramenta spiritualia" is -Honorius's apt phrase (which may be borrowed!), Migne 172, col. 842. His -special reference is to circumcision. - -[55] Ps. xxxi. Vulgate; Ps. xxxii. 2, Authorized Version. - -[56] _Speculum ecclesiae_, "Dominica XI." (Migne 172, col. 1053 _sqq._). - -[57] Yet, curiously enough, near the time when I was making the following -translation, I heard an elderly country clergyman preach substantially -this sermon of Honorius--wherever he may have culled it, perhaps from some -useful "Homiletical" Commentary. - -[58] _Speculum ecclesiae_, "Dominica XIII." (Migne 172, col. 1059-1061). - -[59] _Speculum ecclesiae_, "Dominica in Septuagesima" (Migne 172, col. -855-857). Honorius may have forgotten the weariness of his supposed -audience; for his sermon goes on with further admonition as to how the -victory is to be won. - -The allegorical interpretation of Scripture is exemplified in the whole -limitless mass of mediaeval sermons. Illustrations from St. Bernard's -sermons on Canticles are given in Chapter XVII., also _post_, in Chapter -XXXVI., II. - -[60] For the Eucharist in the Carolingian period see _ante_, Chapter X. -Berengar of Tours is spoken of in Chapter XII., IV. - -[61] Many members in one body, one body in Christ (Rom. xii. 4, 5). - -[62] Cf. _post_, Chapter XXXIII., V. - -[63] The works of Hugo of Saint-Victor are contained in Migne's -_Patrologia Latina_, 175-177 (Paris, 1854; the reprint of 1882 is full of -misprints). The Prolegomena (in French) of Mgr. Hugonin are elaborate and -valuable. Mignon, _Les Origines de la scholastique et Hugues de -Saint-Victor_ (2 vols., Paris, 1895), follows Hugonin's writing and adds -little of value. An exposition of Hugo's philosophy is to be found in -Stoeckl, _Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters_, Band I. pp. 305-355 -(Mainz, 1864). On the authenticity of the writings ascribed to him see -Haureau, _Les Oeuvres de Hugues de Saint-Victor_ (2nd ed., Paris, 1886). -For Hugo's position in the history of scholasticism and mysticism see -_post_, Chapter XXXVI., II. - -[64] _Post_, Chapter XXXI., I. - -[65] Hildebert's letter is given _post_, Chapter XXX., III. - -[66] On the neighbouring schools of Notre-Dame and St. Genevieve see -_post_, Chapter XXXVII. - -[67] At the opening of his _Expositio in regulam beati Augustini_, Migne -176, col. 881, Hugo explains that the precepts under which a monastic -community lives are called the _regula_, and what we call a _regula_ is -called a _canon_ by the Greeks; and those are called _canonici_ or -_regulares_, who "juxta regularia praecepta sanctorum Patrum canonice -atque apostolice vivunt." Thus the "regular canons" of St. Augustine were -monks who lived according to the rule ascribed to that saint. In the case -of the Victorines the rule was drawn up chiefly by Abbot Gilduin. See -Prolegomena to the works of _Hugo_, Migne 175, col. xxiv. _sqq._ - -[68] See the Prolegomena to the works of _Hugo de Saint-Victor_, by -Hugonin, Migne 175, col. xl. _sqq._ - -[69] _Didascalicon_, vi. 3 (Migne 176, col. 799). Other contents of this -work are given _post_, Chapter XXXVI., I. - -[70] His death is touchingly described in a letter of Osbert, the canon in -charge of the infirmary. See Migne 175, col. xlvii and clxi. - -[71] Hugo, _De arrha animae_, Migne 176, col. 954. Yet Hugo sometimes was -stung with an irrelevant pang for the German fatherland, which he had -left: "I have been an exile since my boyhood, and I know how the mind -grieves to forsake some poor hut's narrow hearth, and how easily it may -then despise the marble hall and fretted roof" (_Didascalicon_, iii. 20; -Migne 176, col. 778). Compare the single letter of Hugo that has a -personal note, _Ep._ i. (Migne 176, col. 1011). - -[72] The _De sacramentis Christianae fidei_ is printed in Migne 176, col. -174-618. It is thus a lengthy work. - -[73] Hugo evidently refers to his _De Scripturis et scriptoribus sacris -praenotatiunculae_, and his various _Adnotationes elucidatoriae_, which -will be found printed in vol. 175 of Migne's _Patrologia Latina_. In chap. -v. of the work first mentioned (Migne 175, col. 13) he speaks sensibly of -the folly of those who profess not to care for the literal historical -meaning of the sacred text, but, in ignorance, spring at once to very -inept allegorical interpretations. - -[74] _De sacramentis_, Prologus (Migne 176, col. 183-185). A more -elementary statement may be found in _De Scripturis, etc._, cap. xiii. -(Migne 175, col. 20). - -[75] God is perfect and utterly good. His beatitude cannot be increased or -diminished, but it can be imparted. Therefore the primal cause for -creating rational creatures was God's wish that there should be partakers -of His beatitude. This reasoning may be Christian; but it is also close to -the doctrine of Plato's _Timaeus_, which Hugo had read. - -[76] Hugo also takes a wider view of the "place" of mankind's restoration, -and finds that it includes (1) heaven, where the good are confirmed and -made perfect; (2) hell, where the bad receive their deserts; (3) the fire -of purgatory, where there is correction and perfecting; (4) paradise the -place of good beginnings; and (5) the world, the place of pilgrimage for -those who need restoring. - -[77] "Sacramentum est corporale vel materiale elementum foris sensibiliter -propositum ex similitudine repraesentans, et ex institutione significans, -et ex sanctificatione continens aliquam invisibilem et spiritalem gratiam" -(pars ix. 2; Migne 176, col. 317). In spite of Hugo the old definition -held its ground, being adopted by Peter Lombard and others after him. - -[78] Here we see clearly that the works of the Creation have the -sacramental quality of similitude and, in a way, the quality of -institution, since their similitude to spiritual things was intended by -the Creator for the instruction of man. They lack, however, the third -quality of sanctification, which enables the material _signum_ to convey -its spiritual _res_. - -[79] _e.g._ the material of the sacrament, which may consist in things, as -in bread and wine, or in actions (as in making the sign of the cross), or -in words, as in the invocation of the Trinity. He also shows how faith -itself may be regarded as a sacrament, inasmuch as it is that whereby we -now see in a glass darkly and behold but an image. But we shall hereafter -see clearly through contemplation. Faith then is the image, _i.e._ the -sacrament, of the future contemplation which is the sacrament's real -verity, the _res_. - -[80] _De sacr._ lib. i. pars xi. cap. 1. The sacraments of the natural law -included tithes, oblations, and sacrifices. Hugo also considers the good -works which the natural law prescribed. This period ceases with the -written law given implicitly through Abraham and explicitly through Moses. -See _De sacr._ lib. i. pars xii. cap. i. Hugo appears to me to vary his -point of view regarding the natural law and its time, for sometimes he -regards it as the law prevailing till the time of Abraham or Moses, and -again as the law under which pagan peoples lived, who did not know the -Mosaic law. - -[81] _De sacr._ lib. i. pars xi. cap. 6 (Migne 176, col. 346). - -[82] Whoever should wish for further illustration of Hugo's allegorical -methods may examine his treatises entitled _De arca Noe morali_ and _De -arca Noe mystica_ (Migne 176, col. 618-702), where every detail of the -Ark, which signifies the Church, is allegorically applied to the Christian -scheme of life and salvation. With these treatises, Hugo's _De vanitate -mundi_ (Migne 176, col. 703-740) is connected. They will be referred to -when considering Hugo's position in mediaeval philosophy, _post_, Chapter -XXXVI., II. - -[83] See Duchesne, _Origines du culte chretien_. - -[84] See the epitaph from his tomb in S. Maria sopra Minerva in Rome, -given by Savigny, _Geschichte des Roemischen Rechts_, v. 571 _sqq._, who -also gives a sketch of his life. With the work of Durandus, the _Gemma -animae_ of Honorius of Autun (Books I. II. III.; Migne 172, col. 541 -_sqq._) should be compared, as marking a somewhat earlier stage in the -interpretation of the Liturgy. It also gives the symbolism of the church -and its parts, its ministers, and services. - -[85] Every article worn or borne by the bishop (or celebrating priest) has -symbolic significance. - -[86] All this (which is taken from Book IV. of the _Rationale_) is but the -first part of the Mass. The maze of symbolism increases in vastness and -intricacy as the office proceeds. - -[87] Neh. iv. - -[88] Matt. xix. 17. - -[89] Many parts of the church have more than one significance. The windows -were said before to represent hospitality and pity. - -[90] _Post_, Chapter XXXV., I. - -[91] The application of Vincent's work to the sculpture and painting of a -Gothic cathedral is due to Didron, _Iconographie chretienne, histoire de -Dieu_, Introduction (1843). Other writers have followed him, like Emile -Male in his _L'Art religieux du XIII{e} siecle en France_ (2nd ed., Paris, -1902), to which the present writer is much indebted. It goes without -saying, that the sources from which Vincent drew (_e.g._ the works of -Albertus Magnus) likewise form a commentary upon the subjects of Gothic -glass and sculpture, and may even have suggested the manner of their -presentation. - -[92] The opening verses of John's Gospel account for this. Christ, or God -in the person of Christ, is shown in Old Testament scenes as early as the -fourth century upon sarcophagi in the Lateran at Rome. - -[93] These subjects illustrated the series of events celebrated in the -calendar of church services. - -[94] _Post_, pp. 86 _sqq._ - -[95] _Ante_, Chapter XXVII. - -[96] So the composition and the arrangement of topics in the cathedral -sculpture and glass have scarcely the excellence of natural grouping. The -arrangement is intended to illustrate the series of successive acts making -up God's own artist-composition, itself symbolical of His purpose in the -creation and redemption of man. - -[97] Adam's hymns are edited with notes and an introductory essay by L. -Gautier, _Oeuvres poetiques d'Adam de S.-Victor_ (3rd ed., Paris, 1894). A -number of his hymns will be found in Migne 196, col. 1422 _sqq._; and also -in Clement's _Carmina e poetis christianis excerpta_. On Adam's verse see -_post_, Chapter XXXII., III. - -[98] Dante draws much from Richard of St. Victor. - -[99] See _post_, Chapter XXXII., III. - -[100] Gautier, _o.c._ p. 46 (Migne 196, col. 1437). - -[101] The Hebrews in bondage to the Egyptians are the symbol of all men in -the bonds of sin. - -[102] As Christ expires the cherubim at the gate of Eden lower the flaming -sword, so that the men bathed with His blood may pass in. - -[103] Isaac was always a type of Christ; his name was interpreted laughter -(_risus_) from Gen. xxi. 6: "And Sarah said, God hath made me to laugh, so -that all that hear will laugh with me." - -[104] Joseph another type of Christ. - -[105] This serpent, _i.e._ Christ the rod of Aaron, safe from the devil's -spite, consumes the false idols. - -[106] The Brazen Serpent, a type of Christ. Cf. John iii. 14. - -[107] Cf. Job xli. 1. The hook (_hamus_) is Christ's divinity, whereby He -pierces the devil's jaw. - -[108] Cf. Isa. xi. 8. The guiltless child is Christ, and the cockatrice is -the devil. - -[109] The children who mocked Elisha represent the Jews mocking Christ as -He ascended Calvary; the bear is Vespasian and Titus who destroy -Jerusalem. - -[110] These again are types of Christ: David feigning madness among the -Philistines, 1 Sam. xxi. 12-15; the goat cast forth for the people's sins, -Lev. xvi. 21, 22; and the sparrow in the rite of cleansing from leprosy, -Lev. xiv. 2-7. - -[111] Samson a type of Christ, will not wed a woman of his tribe (Judges -xiv. 1-3) as Christ chooses the Gentiles; Samson bursts open Gaza's gates -as Christ the gates of death and hell. - -[112] The allusion here is to the statement of mediaeval Bestiaries that -the lion cub, when born, lies lifeless for three days, till awakened by -his father's roar. The supernal mother is the Church triumphant. - -[113] The body of Christ, _i.e._ the Church. - -[114] A topic everywhere represented in church windows and cathedral -sculpture. - -[115] Printed at the end of his _Paedagogus_; see Taylor, _Classical -Heritage of the Middle Ages_, pp. 253-255, where it is translated. - -[116] Although the dogmas of Christianity were formulated by reason, they -were cradled in love and hate. Nowadays, in a time when dogmas are apt to -be thought useless clogs to the spirit, it is well for the -historically-minded to remember the power of emotional devotion which they -have inspired in other times. - -[117] Gautier, _Oeuvres d'Adam_ (1st ed., vol. i. p. 11); Gautier (3rd -ed., p. 269) doubts whether this hymn is Adam's. But for the purpose of -illustrating the symbolism of the twelfth-century hymn, the question of -authorship is not important. - -[118] _Ante_, Chapter XXVII. - -[119] In these closing lines the "salubre sacramentum" is in apposition to -"Ille de Samaria"--_i.e._ the "sacramentum" is the Saviour, who is also -typified by the Good Samaritan. In another hymn for Christmas, Adam speaks -of the concurrence in one _persona_ of Word, flesh, and spirit, and then -uses the phrase "Tantae rei sacramentum" (Gautier, _o.c._ p. 5). Here the -_sacramentum_ designates the visible human person of Christ, which was the -life-giving _signum_ or symbol of so great a marvel (_tantae rei_) as the -Incarnation. Adam has Hugo's teaching in mind, and the full significance -of his phrase will appear by taking it in connection with Hugo's -definition of the Sacrament, _ante_, Chapter XXVIII. - -[120] Gautier, _o.c._ p. 10. - -[121] The reference is to Aaron's rod in Numbers xvii. - -[122] The reference is to Gideon's fleece, Judges vi. 37, which is a type -of the Virgin Mary. - -[123] Gautier, _o.c._ 1st ed., i. 155 (Migne 196, col. 1464). In his third -edition, Gautier is doubtful of Adam's authorship of this hymn because of -its irregular rhyme. - -[124] Cf. Gautier's notes to this hymn, Gautier, _o.c._ 1st ed., i. -159-167. - -[125] Gautier, _o.c._ i. 168. - -[126] Gautier, _o.c._ ii. 127. - -[127] Gautier, 3rd ed., p. 186. This is in Migne 196, col. 1502. - -[128] A charlatan in Salimbene's Chronicle, _ante_, Chapter XXI., uses a -like phrase. - -[129] For the data as to Alanus see the Prolegomena to Migne, _Pat. Lat._ -210, which volume contains his works. See also Haureau, _Mem. de l'acad. -des inscriptions et des belles lettres_, tome 32 (1886), p. 1, etc.; also -_Hist. lit. de France_, tome 16, p. 396, etc. On Alanus and his place in -scholastic philosophy, see _post_, Chapter XXXVI., III. - -[130] Migne 210, col. 686-1012. - -[131] Migne 210, col. 431-481. See _post_, Chapter XXXII., I. - -[132] The significance of the title is not quite clear. The poem is -written in hexametre, and is not far from 4700 lines in length. It is -printed in Migne 210, col. 486-576; also edited by Thos. Wright, Master of -the Rolls Series, vol. 59, ii. (1872). - -[133] The poem is highly imaginative in the delineation of its allegorical -figures. - -[134] These curious lines are as follows: - - "O nova picturae miracula, transit ad esse - Quod nihil esse potest! picturaque simia veri, - Arte nova ludens, in res umbracula rerum - Vertit, et in verum mendacia singula mutat." - _Anticlaudianus_, i. cap. iv. - (Migne 196, col. 491.) - -[135] The allusion here is to the fate of Hippolytus, whose -chariot-horses, maddened by the wiles of Venus, dashed the chariot to -pieces and caused their lord's death. - -[136] i. cap. vi. Her garb and attributes are elaborately told. In the -latter part of the poem she is usually called Phronesis. - -[137] A favourite commonplace; Heloise uses it. - -[138] The functions of these virgins, the Seven Liberal Arts, are -poetically told. The _Anticlaudianus_ is no text-book. But the poet -apparently is following the _De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii_ of -Martianus Capella, _ante_, Chapter IV. - -[139] Compare the succession of Heavens in Dante's _Paradiso_. - -[140] One may recall Raphael's painting of Theology on the ceiling of the -Stanza del Segnatura in the Vatican. It is impossible not to compare the -roles of Alan's Reason and Theology with those of Virgil and Beatrice in -the _Commedia_. - -[141] Here we are back in the _Celestial Hierarchy_ of Dionysius the -Areopagite. - -[142] As in Dante's _Paradiso_. - -[143] Most of these epithets of the Virgin come from allegorical -interpretations of the text of the Vulgate. - -[144] Compare the final vision of Dante in _Paradiso_, xxxiii. - -[145] The reader will notice the Platonism and Neo-Platonism of all this. - -[146] Notice that the Arts are here equipping and perfecting the man for -his fight against sin;--which corresponds with the common mediaeval view -of the function of education. - -[147] The poem gives a full description of Fortune and her house, and -unstable splendid gifts. - -[148] But the different names of Alanus's Virtues and Vices, and their -novel antagonisms, indicate an original view of morality with him. On the -_Psychomachia_ see Taylor, _Classical Heritage_, pp. 278 _sqq._ and 379. -Allegorical combats and _debats_ (both in Latin and in the vernacular -tongues) are frequent in mediaeval literature. Cf. _e.g._ _post_, Chapter -XXX. Again, in certain _parabolae_ ascribed to St. Bernard (Migne 183, -col. 757 _sqq._) the various virtues, Prudentia, Fortitude, Discretio, -Temperantia, Spes, Timor, Sapientia, are so naturally made to act and -speak, that one feels they had become personalities proper for poetry and -art. Compare Hildegard's characterizations of the Vices, _ante_, Chapter -XIX. - -[149] The English reader will derive much pleasure from F. S. Ellis's -admirable verse translation: _The Romance of the Rose_ (Dent and Co., -London, 1900). Each of the three little volumes of this translation has a -convenient synopsis of the contents. Those who would know what is known of -the tale and its authors should read Langlois's chapter on it, in -_Histoire de la langue et de la litterature francaise_, edited by Petit de -Julleville. It may be said here, for those whose memories need refreshing, -that William de Lorris wrote the first part, some forty-two hundred lines, -about the year 1237, and died leaving it unfinished; John de Meun took up -the poem some thirty years afterwards, and added his sequel of more than -eighteen thousand lines. - -[150] The names are Englished after Ellis's translation. - -[151] See _ante_, Chapter XXIII.; De Meun took much from the _De planctu -naturae_ of Alanus. - -[152] _Post_, Chapter XXXIII. - -[153] _Ante_, Vol. I. p. 213. - -[154] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 172, col. 1056. - -[155] _Ante_, Chapter XII., I. - -[156] _Ante_, Chapter XIII., I. - -[157] _Ante_, Chapter XXVIII. - -[158] _Didascalicon_, iii. 4 (Migne 176, col. 768-769). - -[159] _De vanitate mundi_, i. (Migne 176, col. 709, 710). - -[160] _Ep._ 169 (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 100, col. 441). - -[161] _Opusc._ xiii.; _De perfectione monachi_, cap. xi. (Migne 144, col. -306). See _ante_, Chapter XVI. - -[162] _Speculum ecclesiae_ (Migne 172, col. 1085). - -[163] Sonnet 56. - -[164] _Ep._ i. (Migne 119, col. 433). - -[165] John approved of reading the _auctores_, for educational purposes, -and not confining the pupil to the _artes_. See _Metalogicus_, i. 23, 24 -(Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 199, col. 453). On John, cf. _post_, Chapter XXXI. and -XXXVI., III. - -[166] _Polycraticus_, Prologus (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 199, col. 385). - -[167] _Post_, Chapter XXXVI., III. - -[168] I draw upon the extracts given in the thesis of M. Demimuid, _De -Bernardo Carnotensi grammatico professore et interprete Virgilii_ (Paris, -1873), who, as appears by his title, confuses the two Bernards. - -[169] The author of a bastard epitome on the Trojan War, see _post_, -Chapter XXXII., IV. - -[170] The above, in substance, is taken from Macrobius. - -[171] _Post_, Chapter XXXVII. - -[172] _Ante_, Chapter XXIX., II., and _post_, Chapter XXXVI., III. - -[173] _Post_, Chapter XXXVI., I. - -[174] For a successor or friendly rival to Chartres, in the interest taken -in grammar and classical literature, one should properly look to Orleans, -where apparently those studies continued to flourish. Cf. L. Delisle, "Les -Ecoles d'Orleans au douzieme siecle," _Annuaire-Bulletin de la Societe de -l'Histoire de France_, t. vii. (1869), p. 139 _sqq._ In a _Bataille des -septs arts_, by Henri d'Andeli, of the first half of the thirteenth -century, Logic, from its stronghold of Paris, vanquishes Grammar, whose -stronghold is Orleans. In the conflict, with much symbolic truth, -Aristotle overthrows Priscian, _Histoire litteraire de la France_, t. -xxiii. p. 225. - -[175] _Post_, Chapter XXXVII. - -[176] See _post_, Chapter XLI. and XLII. for the work of Grosseteste. - -[177] Cf. _post_, Chapter XXXIII. and XXXVII. - -[178] Cf. Specht, _Geschichte des Unterrichtswesens in Deutschland, etc._ -(Stuttgard, 1885), p. 75 and _passim_. - -Yet how soon and with what childish prattle youths might begin to speak -and write Latin is touchingly shown by a boy's letter, written from a -monastic school, to his parents. It just asks for various little things, -and its superscription is: "Parentibus suis A. agnus ablactatus pium -balatum": which seems to mean: "To his parents, A, a weaned lamb, sends a -loving bah." This and other curious little letters are ascribed to one -Robertus Metensis (_cir._ A.D. 900) (Migne 132, col. 533). - -[179] See Thurot, _Histoire des doctrines grammaticales au moyen age; -Notices et extraits des MSS._ vol. 22, part 2, p. 85. For what is said in -the preceding and following pages the writer's obligations are deep to -this well-known work of Thurot, and to Reichling's edition of the -_Doctrinale_ of Alexander de Villa-Dei (_Mon. Germ. paedagogica_, XII., -Berlin, 1893). Paetow's _Arts Course at Medieval Universities_ (University -of Illinois, 1910) treats learnedly of these matters. - -[180] See Thurot, _o.c._ p. 204 _sqq._ - -[181] _Regere_, a mediaeval term not used in this sense by Priscian. - -[182] See the _Einleitung_ to Reichling's edition of the _Doctrinale_ -already referred to; also Thurot, _De Alexandri de Villa-Dei doctrinali_ -(Paris, 1850). The chief mediaeval rival of the _Doctrinale_ was the -_Graecismus_ of Eberhard of Bethune, written a little later. See Paetow, -_o.c._ p. 38. - -[183] _Doctrinale_, line 1561 _sqq._ - -[184] _Doctrinale_, 1603 _sqq._ - -[185] _Doctrinale_, 2330-2331. - -[186] See passage in Reichling's _Einleitung_, p. xxvii. - -[187] See _e.g._ _Une Grammaire latine inedite du XIII{e} siecle_, par Ch. -Fierville (Paris, 1886). - -[188] See Reichling, _o.c._ _Einleitung_, p. xix; Thurot, _Not. et extr._ -xxii. 2, p. 112 _sqq._ - -[189] See _e.g._ Thurot, _o.c._ p. 176 _sqq._; p. 216 _sqq._ - -[190] Thurot, _o.c._ pp. 126-127. - -[191] Thurot, _o.c._ p. 127. - -[192] _The Greek Grammar of Roger Bacon_, ed. by Nolan and Hirsch -(Cambridge, 1902). - -[193] Bacon defines _idioma_ "as the determined peculiarity (_proprietas_) -of language, which one _gens_ uses after its custom; and another _gens_ -uses another _idioma_ of the same language" (_Greek Grammar_, p. 26). -Dialect is the modern term. - -[194] _Greek Grammar_, p. 27. Bacon appears to have followed Priscian -chiefly. As to whether he used Byzantine models, or other sources, see the -Introduction to Nolan and Hirsch's edition of the _Greek Grammar_. These -thoughts inspiring Bacon's _Grammar_ became a veritable metaphysics in the -_Grammatica speculativa_ ascribed to Duns Scotus, see _post_, Chapter -XLII. - -[195] Cf. L. Rockinger, "Die Ars Dictandi in Italien," _Sitzungsber. -bayerisch. Akad._, 1861, pp. 98-151. For examples of these _dictamina_, -see L. Delisle, "Dictamina Magistri Berardi de Neapoli" (a papal notary -equally versed in law and rhetoric), _Notices et extraits des MSS., etc._, -vol. 27, part 2, p. 87 _sqq._; Ch. V. Langlois, "Formulaires de lettres," -etc., _Not. et ext._ vol. 32 (2), p. 1 _sqq._; _ibid._ vol. 34 (1), p. 1 -_sqq._ and p. 305 _sqq._ and vol. 35 (2), p. 409 _sqq._ - -[196] For the history of this school in the eleventh century, see _ante_, -Chapter XII. III. - -[197] The _Eptateuchon_ exists in manuscript. I have taken the above from -Clerval, _Les Ecoles de Chartres au moyen age_ (Chartres, 1895), p. 221 -_sqq._ Thierry appears to have written a commentary on Cicero's -_Rhetoric_. See _Melanges Graux_, pp. 41-46. - -[198] _Metalogicus_, i. cap. xxiv. (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 199, col. 853-856). - -[199] _Polycraticus_, vii. 13 (Migne 199, col. 666). - -[200] _Metalogicus_, i. 24 (Migne 199, col. 856). - -[201] Cf. Clerval, _o.c._ p. 211 _sqq._ and p. 227 _sqq._ - -[202] _Metalogicus_, iii. 4 (Migne 199, col. 900). - -[203] Petrus Blesensis, _Epist._ 101 (Migne 207, col. 312). - -[204] _Epist._ 92 (Migne 207, col. 289). These letters are cited by -Clerval. - -[205] See _post_, Chapter XXXVI. I. - -[206] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 171, col. 1007-1056. - -[207] _Metalogicus_, i. 5. - -[208] See _post_, Chapter XXXV. I. - -[209] The works of Giraldus Cambrensis are published in Master of Rolls -Series, 21, in eight volumes. The last contains the _De instructione -principum_. Giraldus lived from about 1147 to 1220. - -[210] _Ante_, Chapter VIII. - -[211] Alcuin, _Ep._ 80 (Migne 100, col. 260). - -[212] Alcuin, _Ep._ 113, _ad Paulinum patriarcham_ (Migne 100, col. 341). - -[213] Traube, _Poetae Lat. Aevi Carolini_ (_Mon. Germ._), 1, p. 243. Cf. -"Versus in laude Larii laci," by Paulus Diaconus, _ibid._ p. 42. - -[214] _Ante_, Chapter XII. - -[215] _Post_, Chapter XXXVI. III. - -[216] _Ep._ ii. 33 (Migne 171, col. 256). For the Latin text of this -letter see _post_, Chapter XXXI. - -[217] For the entire poem, which is of interest throughout, see _post_, -Chapter XXXII. I. - -[218] For the poem see Haureau, _Melanges poetiques d'Hildebert de -Lavardin_, p. 64 (Paris, 1882). - -[219] Haureau, _o.c._ p. 56. - -[220] _Ibid._ p. 82. - -[221] _Ibid._ p. 144. - -[222] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 171, col. 1428. This volume of Migne also -contains the poems criticized and (some of them) edited by Haureau in the -book already referred to. - -[223] Hildebert, _Epis._ i. 1 (Migne 171, col. 141). - -[224] Hildebert, _Ep._ i. 22 (Migne 171, col. 197). - -[225] A technical illustration from Roman law. - -[226] Hildeberti, _Ep._ ii. 12 (Migne 171, col. 172-177). Compare _Ep._ i. -17, consoling a friend on loss of place and dignities. Hildebert's works -are in vol. 171 of Migne's _Pat. Lat._ A number of his poems are more -carefully edited by Haureau in _Notices et extraits des MSS., etc._, vol. -28, ii. p. 289 _sqq._; and some of them in vol. 29, ii. p. 231 _sqq._ of -the same series. The matter is more conveniently given by Haureau in his -_Melanges poetiques d'Hildebert de Lavardin_. On the man and his writings -see De servillers, _Hildebert et son temps_ (Paris, 1876); Hebert -Duperron, _De Venerabilis Hildeberti vita et scriptis_ (Bajocis, 1855); -also vol. xi. of _Hist. lit. de la France_; and (best of all) Dieudonne, -_Hildebert de Lavardin, sa vie, ses lettres, etc._ (Paris, 1898). - -[227] It is well known that the great Latin prose, in spite of variances -of stylistic intent and faculty among the individual writers, was an -artistic, not to say artificial creation, formed under the influence of -Greek models. Cicero is the supreme example of this, and he is also the -greatest of all Latin prose writers. After his time some great writers -(_e.g._ Tacitus, Quintilian) preserved a like tradition; others (_e.g._ -Seneca) paid less attention to it. And likewise on through the patristic -period, and the Middle Ages too, some men endeavoured to preserve a -classic style, while others wrote more naturally. - -[228] Even as it is necessary, in order to appreciate some of the methods -of the Latin classical poetry, to realize that their immediate antecedents -lay in Greek Alexandrian literature rather than in the older Greek -Classics. - -[229] See Taylor, _Classical Heritage_, chapter viii. - -[230] A palpable difficulty in judging mediaeval Latin literature is its -bulk. The extant Latin classics could be tucked away in a small corner of -it. Every well-equipped student of the Classics has probably read them -all. One mortal life would hardly suffice to read a moderate part of -mediaeval Latin. And, finally, while there are histories of the classic -literature in every modern tongue, there exists no general work upon -mediaeval Latin writings regarded as literature. Ebert's indispensable -_Allgemeine Geschichte der Literatur des Mittelalters_ ends with the tenth -century. The author died. Within the scope of its purpose Dr. Sandys' -_History of Classical Scholarship_ is compact and good. - -[231] _Ante_, Chapter X. - -[232] _Post_, Chapter XXXII., I. - -[233] See Sandys, _History of Classical Scholarship_, i. 463-464. - -[234] There was no attempt at classicism in the narrative in which he -recounted the _Translation_ of the relics of the martyrs Marcellinus and -Peter from Rome to his own new monastery at Seligenstadt (Migne 104, col. -537-594). It was an entertaining story of a pious theft, and one may be -sure that he wrote it more easily, and in a style more natural to himself -than that shown in his consciously imitative masterpiece. - -[235] _Ep._ vi. (Migne 100, col. 146). - -[236] _Ep._ xxxii. (Migne 100, col. 187). - -[237] _Ep._ xxxiii. (Migne 100, col. 187). - -[238] _Capitula ad Presbyteros_ (Migne 105, col. 202). - -[239] See _ante_, Chapter XII. - -[240] _Chronicon_, cap. 35 (Migne 139, col. 46). The sense is easy to -follow, but the impossible constructions render an exact translation quite -impossible. It is doubtful whether this Benedictus was an Italian. The -Italian writing of this period, like that of Liutprand, is easier than -among more painful students north of the Alps. But otherwise its qualities -are rarely more pronounced. Ease is shown, however, in the _Chronicon -Venetum_ of John the Deacon (d. cir. 1008). See _ante_, Chapter XIII., -III. - -[241] Migne 133. This work fills four hundred columns in Migne. On Odo see -_ante_, Chapter XII., II. - -[242] Odo of Cluny, _Collationes_, lib. i. cap. i. (Migne 133, col. 519 -and 520). - -"Therefore God, Creator and Judge of mankind, although He have justly -driven our race from that felicity of Paradise, yet mindful of His -goodness, lest man all guilt should incur what he deserves, softens the -sorrows of this pilgrimage with many benefits.... Indeed the purpose of -that same Scripture is to press us from the depravities of this life. For -to that end with its dreadful utterances, as with so many goads, it pricks -our heart, that man struck by fear may shudder, and may recall to memory -the divine judgments which he is wont so easily to forget, cut off by lust -of the flesh and the solicitudes of earth." - -[243] Ruotgerus, _Vita Brunonis_, cap. 4 and 6; Pertz, _Mon. Germ. -Script._ iv. p. 254, and Migne 134, col. 944 and 946. A translation of -this passage is given _ante_, Vol. I., p. 310. See _ibid._, p. 314, for -the scholarship and writings of Hermannus Contractus, an eleventh-century -German. Ruotger's clumsy Latin is outdone by the linguistic involutions of -the _Life of Wenceslaus_, the martyr duke of Bohemia, written toward the -close of the tenth century by Gumpoldus, Bishop of Mantua, who seems to -have cultivated classical rhetoric most disastrously (Pertz, _Mon. Germ. -Script._ iv. p. 211, and in Migne 135, col. 923 _sqq._). - -[244] From Thurot, _Notices et extraits, etc._, 22 (2), p. 87, and p. -341 _sqq._, one may see that the principles of construction stated by -mediaeval grammarians followed the usage of mediaeval writers in adopting -a simpler or more natural order than that of classical prose. An extract, -for example, from an eleventh-century MSS. indicates the simple order -which this grammarian author approved: _e.g._ "Johannes hodie venit de -civitate; Petrus, quem Arnulfus genuit et nutrivit, intellexit multa" -(Thurot, p. 87). - -[245] _Ante_, Chapter XXX., II. - -[246] So likewise in regard to verse, the perfected two-syllable rhyme -came first in Italy, and more slowly in the North, although the North was -to produce better Latin poetry. - -[247] _Ante_, Chapters XI., IV., and XVI. - -[248] _Opusc._ xiv., _De ordine erimitarum_ (Migne 145, col. 329). - -"We may see upon a tree a leaf ready to succumb beneath the wintry frosts, -and, with the sap of autumnal clemency consumed, even now about to fall, -so that it barely cleaves to the twig it hangs from, but displays most -evident signs of (its) light ruin. The blasts are quivering, wild winds -strike it from all sides, the mid-winter horror of heavy air congeals with -cold; and that you may marvel the more, the ground is strewn with the rest -of the leaves everywhere flowing down, and, with its locks laid low, the -tree is stripped of its grace; yet that alone, none other remaining, -endures, and, as the survivor of co-heirs, succeeds to the rights of the -brotherhood's possession. What then is left to be understood from -consideration of this thing, save that a leaf of a tree cannot fall unless -it receive beforehand the divine command?" - -This description is rhetorically elaborated; but Damiani commonly wrote -more directly, as in this sentence from a letter to a nobleman, in which -Damiani urges him not to fail in his duty to his mother through affection -for his wife: "Sed forte dices: mater mea me frequenter exasperat, duris -verbis meum et uxoris meae corda perturbat; non possumus tot injuriarum -probra perferre, non valemus austeritatis ejus et severae correptionis -molestias tolerare" (_Ep._ vii. 3; Migne 144, col. 466). This needs no -translation. - -[249] _Ante_, Chapter XI., IV. - -[250] _Proslogion_, cap. 24 (Migne 158, col. 239). - -"Awaken now, my soul, and rouse all thy mind, and consider, as thou art -able, of what nature and how great is that Good (God). For if single goods -are objects of delight, consider intently how delightful is that good -which contains the joy of all goods; and not such as in things created we -have tried, but differing as greatly as differs the Creator from the -creature. For if life created is good, how good is the life creatrix! If -joyful is the salvation wrought, how joyful is the salvation which wrought -all salvation! If lovely is wisdom in the knowledge of things created, how -lovely is the wisdom which created all from nothing. In fine, if there are -many and great delectations in things delightful, of what quality and -greatness is delectation (_i.e._ the delectation that we take) in Him who -made the delights themselves!" - -The reader may observe that the word-order of Anselm's Latin is preserved -almost unchanged in the translation. - -[251] "Meditatio II." (Migne 158, col. 722). - -"My soul is offended with my life. I blush to live; I fear to die. What -then remains for thee, O sinner, save that all thy life thou weepest over -all thy life, that it all may lament its whole self. But in this also is -my soul miserably wonderful and wonderfully miserable, since it does not -grieve as much as it knows itself (_i.e._ to the full extent of its -self-knowledge) but secure, is listless as if it knew not what it may be -suffering. O barren soul, what art thou doing? why art thou drowsing, -sinner soul? The Day of Judgment is coming, near is the great day of the -Lord, near and too swift the day of wrath, (that day!) day of tribulation -and distress, day of calamity and misery, day of shades and darkness, day -of cloud and whirlwind, day of the trump and the roar! O voice of the day -of the Lord--harsh! Why sleepest thou, soul lukewarm and fit to be spewed -out?" - -[252] Perhaps it may seem questionable to treat Anselm as an Italian, -since he left Lombardy when a young man. Undoubtedly his theological -interests were affected by his northern environment. But his temperament -and language, his diction, his style, seem to me more closely connected -with native temperament. - -[253] Annals for the year 1077 (Migne 146, col. 1234 _sqq._); also in -_Mon. Germ. Script._ iii. - -[254] _Sermo xvi._ (Migne 183, col. 851). The power of this passage keeps -it from being hysterical. But the monkish hysteria, without the power, may -be found in the writings of St. Bernard's jackal, William of St. Thierry, -printed in Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 180. Notice his _Meditationes_, for example; -also his _De contemplando Deo_, printed among St. Bernard's works (Migne -184, col. 365 _sqq._). - -[255] _Sermo xv._ (Migne 183, col. 847). Translated _ante_, Vol. I., p. -411. - -[256] _Ep._ xii., _ad Guigonem_ (Migne 182, col. 116). - -[257] Bernard, _Ep._ 112, _ad Gaufridum_ (Migne 182, col. 255). For -translation see _ante_, Vol. I., p. 398. - -[258] _E.g._ _Ep._ i. and 144 (Migne 182, col. 70 and 300). - -[259] _Ep._ 196, _ad Guidonem_ (Migne 182, col. 363). Translated _ante_, -Vol. I., p. 401. See also the preceding letter, 195. - -[260] As to Jerome's two styles see Goelzer, _La Latinite de St. Jerome_, -Introduction. - -[261] _Ep._ ii. 33 (Migne 171, col. 256). Translation _ante_, Chapter -XXX., III. - -[262] See _ante_, Chapter XXX., I. - -[263] "Against that signal gift of parent nature and grace, a shameless -wrangler has stirred up an old calumny, condemned by the judgment of our -ancestors; and, seeking everywhere comfort for his ignorance, he hopes to -advance himself toward glory, if he shall see many like himself, see them -ignorant, that is to say. For he has this special tumour of arrogance, -that he would be making himself the equal of others, exalting his own good -qualities (if they exist), and depreciating those of others. And he deems -his neighbour's defect to be his own advancement. - -"Now it is indubitable to all truly wise, that Nature, kindest parent of -all, and best-ordering directress, among the other living beings which she -brought forth, distinguished man with the prerogative of reason and -ennobled him with the exercise of eloquence (or 'with the use of speech'): -executing this with unremitting zeal and best-ordering decree, in order -that man who was pressed and dragged to the lowest by the heaviness of a -clodlike nature and the slowness of corporeal bulk, borne aloft as it were -by these wings might ascend to the heights, and by obtaining the crown of -true blessedness excel all others in happy reward. While Grace thus -fecundates Nature, Reason watches over the matters to be inspected and -considered; Nature's bosom gives forth, metes out the fruits and faculty -of individuals; and the inborn love of good, stimulating itself by its -natural appetite, follows this (_i.e._ the good) either solely or before -all else, since it seems best adapted to the bliss descried" (_Metal._ i. -1; Migne 199, col. 825). These translations are kept close to the -original, in order to show the construction of the sentences. - -[264] "There is another class of philosophers called the Ionic, and it -took its origin from the more remote Greeks. The chief of these was Thales -the Milesian, one of those seven who were called 'wise.' He, when he had -searched out the nature of things, shone among his fellows, and especially -stood forth as admirable because, comprehending the laws of astrology, he -predicted eclipses of the sun and moon. To him succeeded his hearer, -Anaximander, who (in turn) left Anaximenes as disciple and successor. -Diogenes, likewise his hearer, arose and Anaxagoras who taught that the -divine mind was the author of all things that we see. To him succeeded his -pupil Archelaus, whose disciple is said to have been Socrates, the master -of Plato, who, according to Apuleius, was first called Aristotle, but then -Plato from his breadth of chest, and was borne aloft to such height of -philosophy, by vigour of genius, by assiduity of study, by graciousness in -all his ways, and by sweetness and force of eloquence, that, as if seated -on the throne of wisdom, he has seemed to command by a certain ordained -authority the philosophers before and after him. And indeed Socrates is -said to have been the first to have turned universal philosophy to the -improvement and ordering of manners; since before him all had devoted -themselves chiefly to physics, that is to examining the things of nature" -(_Polycraticus_, vii. 5; Migne 199, col. 643). - -[265] "The most excellent man concluded his oration, and by the power of -the blessed Peter absolved all who had taken the vow to go, and by the -same apostolic authority confirmed it; and he instituted a suitable sign -of this so honourable vow; and as a badge of soldiering (or knighthood), -or rather, of being about to soldier, for God, he took the mark of the -Lord's Passion, the figure of a cross, made from material of any kind of -cloth, and ordered it to be sewed upon the tunics and cloaks of those -about to go. But if any one, after receiving this sign, or after making -open promise, should draw back from that good intent, by base repenting or -through affection for his kin, he ordained that he should be held an -outlaw utterly and perpetually, unless he turn and set himself again to -the neglected performance of his pledge. - -"Furthermore, with terrible anathema he damned all who within the term of -three years should dare to do ill to the wives, children, or property of -those setting forth on this journey of God. And finally he committed to a -certain and praiseworthy man (a bishop of some city on the Po, whose name -I am sorry never to have found or heard) the care and regulation of the -expedition, and conferred his own authority upon him over the tribute (?) -of Christian people wherever they should come. Whereupon giving his -benediction, in the apostolic manner, he placed his hands upon him. How -sagaciously that one executed the behest, is shown by the marvellous -outcome of so great an undertaking" (Guibert of Nogent, _Gesta Dei per -Francos_, ii. 2; Migne 156, col. 702). - -[266] _Hist. ecclesiastica_, pars iii. lib. xii. cap. 14 (Migne 188, col. -889-892). "Thomas, son of Stephen, approached the king, and offering him a -mark of gold, said: 'Stephen, son of Airard, was my sire, and all his life -he served thy father (William the Conqueror) on the sea. For him, borne on -his ship, he conveyed to England, when he proceeded to England in order to -make war on Harold. In this manner of service serving him until death he -gave him satisfaction, and honoured with many rewards from him, he -flourished grandly among his people. This privilege, lord king, I claim of -thee, and the vessel which is called _White Ship_ I have ready, fitted out -in the best manner for royal needs.' To whom the king said: 'I grant your -petition. For myself indeed I have selected a proper ship, which I shall -not change; but my sons, William and Richard, whom I cherish as myself, -with much nobility of my realm, I commend now to thee.' - -"Hearing these words the sailors were merry, and bowing down before the -king's son, asked of him wine to drink. He ordered three measures of wine -to be given them. Receiving these they drank and pledged their comrades' -health abundantly, and with deep potations became drunk. At the king's -order many barons with their sons went aboard the ship, and there were -about three hundred, as I opine, in that fatal bark. Then two monks of -Tiron, and Count Stephen with two knights, also William of Rolmar, and -Rabellus the chamberlain, and Edward of Salisbury, and a number of others, -went out from it, because they saw such a crowd of wanton showy youth -aboard. And fifty tried rowers were there and insolent marines, who having -seized seats in the ship were brazening it, forgetting themselves through -drunkenness, and showed respect for scarcely any one. Alas! how many of -them had minds void of pious devotion toward God!--'Who tempers the -exceeding rages of the sea and air.' And so the priests, who had gone up -there to bless them, and the other ministrants who bore the holy water, -they drove away with derision and loud guffaws; but soon after they paid -the penalty of their mocking. - -"Only men, with the king's treasure and the vessels holding the wine, -filled the keel of Thomas; and they pressed him eagerly to follow the -royal fleet which was already cutting the waves. And he himself, because -he was silly from drink, trusted in his skill and that of his satellites, -and rashly promised to outstrip all who were now ahead of him. Then he -gave the word to put to sea. At once the sailors snatched their oars, and -glad for another reason because they did not know what hung before their -eyes, they adjusted their tackle, and made the ship start over the sea -with a great bound. Now while the drunken rowers were putting forth all -their strength, and the wretched pilot was paying slack attention to -steering his course over the gulf, upon a great rock which daily is -uncovered by the ebbing wave and again is covered when the sea is at -flood, the left side of _White Ship_ struck violently, and with two -timbers smashed, all unexpectedly the ship, alas! was capsized. All cried -out together in such a catastrophe; but the water quickly filling their -mouths, they perished alike. Two only cast their hands upon the boom from -which hung the sail, and clinging to it a great part of the night, waited -for some aid. One was a butcher of Rouen named Berold, and the other a -well-born lad named Geoffrey, son of Gislebert of Aquila. - -"The moon was then at its nineteenth in the sign of the Bull, and lighted -the earth for nearly nine hours with its beams, making the sea bright for -navigators. Captain Thomas after his first submersion regained his -strength, and bethinking himself, pushed his head above the waves, and -seeing the heads of those clinging to some piece of wood, asked, 'What has -become of the king's son?' When the shipwrecked answered that he had -perished with all his companions, 'Miserable,' said he, 'is my life -henceforth.' Saying this, and evilly despairing, he chose to sink there, -rather than meet the fury of the king enraged for the destruction of his -child, or undergo long punishment in chains." - -[267] _Post_, Chapter XLI. - -[268] _Opus majus_, pars i. cap. 6. - -[269] _Op. maj._ ii. cap. 14. - -[270] _Op. maj._ iii. 1. - -[271] _Op. maj._ ii. 14. - -[272] For translation see _post_, Chapter XXXIV. - -[273] _Post_, Chapter XXXVIII. - -[274] _Itinerarium mentis in Deum_, Prologus, 2. - -[275] _Ibid._ cap. vii. 6. For translations see _post_, Chapter XXXVIII. - -[276] _Vita prima_, cap. xi. Translated _ante_, Vol. I., p. 427, note 1. - -[277] _Spec. perfectionis_, ed. Sabatier, cap. 53. Translated _ante_, Vol. -I., p. 427. - -[278] _Ibid._ cap. 93. Translated _ante_, Vol. I., p. 432. - -[279] Cap. li., ed. Graesse. - -"Annunciation Sunday (Advent) is so called, because on that day by an -angel the advent of the Son of God in the flesh was announced, for it was -fitting that the angelical annunciation should precede the incarnation, -for a threefold reason. For the first reason, of betokening the order, -that to wit the order of reparation should answer to the order of -transgression. Accordingly as the devil tempted the woman, that he should -draw her to doubt and through doubt to consent and through consent to -fall, so the angel announced to the Virgin, that by announcing he should -arouse her to faith and through faith to consent and through consent to -conceiving God's son. For the second reason, of the angelic ministry, -because since the angel is God's minister and servant, and the blessed -Virgin was chosen in order that she might be God's mother, and it is -fitting that the minister should serve the mistress, so it was proper that -the annunciation to the blessed Virgin should take place through an angel. -For the third reason, of repairing the angelical fall. Because since the -incarnation was made not only for the reparation of the human fall, but -also for the reparation of the angelical catastrophe, therefore the angels -ought not to be excluded. Accordingly as the sex of the woman does not -exclude her from knowledge of the mystery of the incarnation and -resurrection, so also neither the angelical messenger. Behold, God twice -announces to a woman by a mediating angel, to wit the incarnation to the -Virgin Mary and the resurrection to the Magdalene." The order of the Latin -words is scarcely changed in the translation. - -[280] In order that no reader may be surprised by the absence of -discussion of the antique antecedents of the more particular genres of -mediaeval poetry (Latin and Vernacular), I would emphasize the -impossibility of entering upon such exhaustless topics. Probably the very -general assumption will be correct in most cases, that genres of mediaeval -poetry (_e.g._ the Conflicts or _Debats_ in Latin and Old French) revert -to antecedents sufficiently marked for identification, in the antique -Latin (or Greek) poetry, or in the (extant or lost) productions of the -"low" Latin period from the third century downward. An idea of the -difficulty and range of such matters may be gained from Jeanroy, _Les -Origines de la poesie lyrique en France au moyen age_ (Paris, 1889), and -the admirable review of this work by Gaston Paris in the _Journal des -savants_ for 1891 and 1892 (four articles). Cf. also Batiouchkof in -_Romania_, xx. (1891), pages 1 _sqq._ and 513 _sqq._ - -[281] Cf. Taylor, _Classical Heritage of the Middle Ages_, chap. ix. - -[282] There is much verse from noted men, Alcuin, Paulus Diaconus, -Walafrid Strabo, Rabanus Maurus, Theodulphus. It is all to be found in the -collection of Duemmler and Traube, _Poetae Latini aevi Carolini_ (_Mon. -Germ._ 1880-1896). - -[283] It is amusing to find a poem by Walafrid Strabo turning up as a -favourite among sixteenth-century humanists. The poem referred to, "De -cultura hortorum" (_Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ ii. 335-350), is a poetic -treatment of gardening, reminiscent of the Georgics, but not imitating -their structure. It has many allusions to pagan mythology. - -[284] _Post_, p. 193 _sqq._ - -[285] _Ante_, Vol. I., p. 147. - -[286] _Ante_, Chapter XI., III. - -[287] The following leonine hexameters are attributed to Donizo: - - "Chrysopolis dudum Graecorum dicitur usu, - Aurea sub lingua sonat haec Urbs esse Latina, - Scilicet Urbs Parma, quia grammatica manet alta, - Artes ac septem studiose sunt ibi lectae." - Muratori, _Antiquitates_, iii. p. 912. - -[288] William was a few years older than Donizo, and died about the year -1100. His hero is Robert Guiscard, and his poem closes with this bid for -the favour of his son, Roger: - - "Nostra, Rogere, tibi cognoscis carmina scribi, - Mente tibi laeta studuit parere Poeta: - Semper et auctores hilares meruere datores; - Tu duce Romano Dux dignior Octaviano, - Sis mihi, quaeso, boni spes, ut fuit ille Maroni." - Muratori, _Scriptores_, v. 247-248. - -[289] Muratori, _Script._ v. 407-457. - -[290] Muratori, _Script._ vi. 110-161; also in Migne. - -[291] Written at the close of the twelfth century. On these people see -Ronca, _Cultura medioevale e poesia Latina d' Italia_ (Rome, 1892). - -[292] Muratori, vii. pp. 349-482; Waitz, _Mon. Germ._ xxii. 1-338. Godfrey -lived from about 1120 to the close of the century. The _Pantheon_ was -completed in 1185. Cf. L. Delisle, _Instructions du comite des travaux -historiques, etc._; _Litterature latine_, p. 41 (Paris, 1890). - -[293] _Matthaei Vindocinensis ars versificatoria_, L. Bourgain (Paris, -1879). - -[294] _Ante_, Chapter XXX., III. - -[295] Text from Haureau, _Les Melanges poetiques d'Hildebert de Lavardin_, -p. 60: also in _Notices des manuscrits de la bib. nat._ t. 28, 2nd part -(1878), p. 331. - -[296] Haureau gives a critical text of the _Carmen ad Astralabium filium_, -in _Notices et extraits, etc._, 34, part ii., p. 153 _sqq._ Other not -unpleasing instances of elegiac verse are afforded by the poems of Baudri, -Abbot of Bourgueil (d. 1130). They are occasional and fugitive -pieces--_nugae_, if we will. See L. Delisle, _Romania_, i. 22-50. - -[297] The substance of this poem has been given _ante_, Chapter XXIX. On -Alanus see also _post_, Chapter XXXVI., III. - -[298] It is printed in Migne 209. Cf. _post_, p. 230, note 1. - -[299] The _Ligurinus_ is printed in tome 212 of Migne's _Patrol. Lat._ On -its author see Pannenborg, _Forschungen zur deutschen Geschichte_, Band -ii. pp. 161-301, and Band xiii. pp. 225-331 (Goettingen, 1871 and 1873). - -[300] Alanus de Insulis, _De planctu naturae_ (Migne 210, col. 447). A -translation of the work has been made by D. M. Moffat (New York, 1908). -For other examples of Sapphic and Alcaic verses see Haureau in _Notices et -extraits, etc._, 31 (2), p. 165 _sqq._ - -[301] Wilhelm Meyer, a leading authority upon mediaeval Latin -verse-structure, derives the principle of a like number of syllables in -every line from eastern Semitic influence upon the early Christians. See -_Fragmenta Burana_ (Berlin, 1901), pp. 151, 166. That may have had its -effect; but I do not see the need of any cause from afar to account for -the syllabic regularity of Latin accentual verse. - -[302] Again Wilhelm Meyer's view: see _l.c._ and the same author's -"Anfaenge der latein. und griech. rhythmischen Dichtung," _Abhand. der -Bairish. Akad. Philos., philol. Klasse_, 1886. - -[303] _Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ i. 116. Cf. Ebert, _Gesch. etc._ ii. 86. -For similar verses see those on the battle at Fontanetum (A.D. 841), -_Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ ii. 138, and the carmen against the town of -Aquilegia, _ibid._ p. 150. - -[304] Cf. _ante_, Vol. I., pp. 227, 228. - -[305] Traube, _Poetae Lat. aevi Car._ iii. p. 731. Cf. Ebert, _Gesch. -etc._ ii. 169 and 325. - -[306] _Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ iii. 733. - -[307] Du Meril, _Poesies populaires latines_, i. 400. - -Perhaps the most successful attempt to write hexameters containing rhymes -or assonances is the twelfth-century poem of Bernard Morlanensis, a monk -of Cluny, beginning with the famous lines: - - "Hora novissima, tempora pessima sunt, vigilemus. - Ecce minaciter imminet arbiter ille supremus." - -Bernardi Morlanensis, _De contemptu mundi_, ed. by Thos. Wright, Master of -the Rolls Series, vol. 59 (ii.), 1872. Bernard says in his Preface, as to -his measures: "Id genus metri, tum dactylum continuum exceptis finalibus, -tum etiam sonoritatem leonicam servans...." - -[308] "Carmina Mutinensia," _Poet. Lat. aev. Car._ iii. 703. The poem has -forty-two lines, of which the above are the first four. The usual date -assigned is 924, but Traube in _Poet. aev. Car._ has put it back to 892. - -[309] See further text and discussion in Traube, "O Roma nobilis," -_Abhand. Bairish. Akad. Philos., philol. Klasse_, 1891. - -[310] The verbal Sequence or _prosa_ was thus a species of _trope_. Tropes -were interpolations or additions to the older text of the Liturgy. The -Sequences were the tropes appended to the last Alleluia of the _Gradual_, -the psalm chanted in the celebration of the Mass, between the reading of -the Epistle and the Gospel. Cf. Leon Gautier, _Poesie liturgique au moyen -age_, chap. iii. (Paris, 1886); _ibid._ _Oeuvres poetiques d'Adam de -Saint-Victor_, p. 281 _sqq._ (3rd ed., Paris, 1894). - -[311] On the Sequence see Leon Gautier, _Poesie liturgique au moyen age_ -(Paris, 1886), _passim_, and especially the comprehensive summary in the -notes from p. 154 to p. 159. Also see Schubiger, _Die Saengerschule St. -Gallus_ (1858), in which many of Notker's Sequences are given with the -music; also v. Winterfeld, "Die Dichterschule St. Gallus und Reichenau," -_Neue Jahrbuecher f. d. klassisch. Altertum_, Bd. v. (1900), p. 341 _sqq._ - -The present writer has found Wilhelm Meyer's _Fragmenta Burana_ (Berlin, -1901) most suggestive; and in all matters pertaining to mediaeval Latin -verse-forms, use has been made of the same writer's exhaustive study: -"Ludus de Antichristo und ueber lat. Rythmen," _Sitzungsber. Bairisch. -Akad. Philos., philol. Klasse_, 1882. See also Ch. Thurot, "Notices, etc., -de divers MSS. latins pour servir a l'histoire des doctrines grammaticales -au moyen age," in vol. xxii. (2) of _Notices et extraits des MSS._ pp. -417-457. - -[312] "May our trumpet be guided mightily by God's right hand, and may He -hear our prayers with gentle and tranquil ear: for our praise will be -accepted if what we sing with the voice a pure conscience sings likewise. -And that we may be able, let us all beseech divine aid to be always -present with us.... O good King, kind, just, and pitying, who art the way -and the door, unlock the gates of the kingdom for us, we beg, and pardon -our offences, that we may praise thy name now and through all the ages." - -[313] G. M. Dreves, "Die Prosen der Abtei St. Martial zu Limoges," p. 59 -(vol. vii. of Dreves's _Analecta hymnica medii aevi_; Leipzig, 1889). "Let -every band sing with fount renewed and the Spirit's grace with joyful -praise and clear mind. Now is made good the tenth part (_i.e._ the fallen -angels), undone by fault; and thus that celestial casting out is made good -in divine praise. Lo! the bright day of the Lord gleams through the broad -spaces of the world: in which all the redeemed people exult because -everlasting death is destroyed." - -[314] Published by Boucherie, "Melanges Latins, etc.," _Revue des langues -romanes_, t. vii. (1875), p. 35. - -"Alleluia! O flock, proclaim joy; with melodious praise utter deeds divine -now fixed by revealed doctrine. Through the great sacrifice of Christ thou -art liberated from death; the gates of hell destroyed, opened are heaven's -doors. Now He rules all things celestial and terrestrial by eternal power; -wherein by the Father's authority He gives judgment always just." - -[315] See Gautier, _Poesie liturgique_, p. 147 _sqq._ It came somewhat -earlier in Italy. See Ronca, _Cultura medioevale, etc._, p. 348 _sqq._ -(Rome, 1892). - -[316] While Sequences may be called hymns, all hymns are not Sequences. -For the hymn is the general term designating a verbal composition sung in -praise of God or His saints. A Sequence then would be a hymn having a -peculiar history and a certain place in the Liturgy. - -[317] Contained in Migne 178, col. 1771 _sqq._ They have not been properly -edited or even fully published. - -[318] Reference should also be made to the six laments (_planctus_) -composed by Abaelard (Migne 178, col. 1817-1823). They are powerful -elegies, and exhibit a richness and variety of poetic measures. It may be -mentioned that the pure two-syllable rhyme is found in hymns ascribed to -Saint Bernard. - -[319] Leon Gautier, the editor of the _Oeuvres poetiques d'Adam de -Saint-Victor_, in his third edition of 1894, has thrown out from among -Adam's poems our first and third examples. On Adam see _ante_, Chapter -XXIX., II. - -[320] Gautier, _Oeuvres poetiques d'Adam de Saint-Victor_, i. 174. - -[321] Gautier, _o.c._ 3rd edition, p. 87. - -[322] Gautier, _o.c._ 1st edition, i. 201. - -[323] Did the Sequence exert an influence upon Hrotsvitha, the tiresome -but unquestionably immortal nun of Gandersheim, who flourished in the -middle and latter part of the tenth century? She wrote narrative poems, -like the _Gesta Ottonis_ (Otto I.) in leonine hexameters. Her pentameter -lines also commonly have a word in the middle rhyming with the last -syllable of the line. But it is in those famous pious plays of hers, -formed after the models of Terence, that we may look for a kind of writing -corresponding to that which was to progress to clearer form in the -Sequence. Without discussing to what extent the Latin of these plays may -be called rhythmical, one or two things are clear. It is filled with -assonances and rude rhymes, usually of one syllable. It has no clear -verse-structure, and the utterances of the _dramatis personae_ apparently -observe no regularity in the number of syllables, such as lines of verse -require. - -[324] For these and other songs, written after the manner of Sequences, -see Du Meril, _Poesies pop. lat._ i. p. 273 _sqq._ They are also printed -by Piper in _Nachtraege zur aelteren deutschen Lit._ (Deutsche Nat. Lit.) p. -206 _sqq._ and p. 234 _sqq._ See also W. Meyer, _Fragmenta Burana_, p. 174 -_sqq._ and Ebert, _Allgemeine Gesch. etc._ ii. 343 _sqq._ - -[325] Du Meril, _ibid._ i. p. 285. - -[326] Wil. Meyer, _Fragmenta Burana_, p. 180. - -[327] The best text of the "Phillidis et Florae altercatio" is Haureau's -in _Notices et extraits_, 32 (1), p. 259 _sqq._ The same article has some -other disputes or _causae_, e.g. _causa pauperis scholaris cum -presbytero_, p. 289. - -[328] Du Meril, _Poesies pop. lat._ ii. p. 108 _sqq._ The piece is a -cento, and its tone changes and becomes brutal further on. The poems, from -which are taken the preceding citations, are to be found in Wright's -_Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes_ (London, 1841, Camden -Society); _Carmina Burana_, ed. J. A. Schmeller; "Gedichte auf K. -Friedrich I. (archipoeta)," in vol. iii. of Grimm's _Kleinere Schriften_. -Cf. also Hubatsch, _Die lateinischen Vagantenlieder_ (Gorlitz, 1870). The -best texts of many of these and other "Carmina Burana," and such like -poems, are to be found in the contributions of Haureau to the _Notices et -extraits, etc._; especially in tome 29 (2), pp. 231-368; tome 31 (1), p. -51 _sqq._ - -[329] _Ante_, Vol. I., p. 145. - -[330] _Ante_, Chapter IX., II. and III. - -[331] For generous samples of it, see _Geistliche Lit. des Mittelalters_, -ed. P. Piper (Deutsche National Literatur). - -[332] For this novel, a Greek original is usually assumed; but the Middle -Ages had it only in a sixth-century Latin version. It was copied in -_Jourdain de Blaie_, a _chanson de geste_. See Hagen, _Der Roman von Koenig -Apollonius in seinen verschiedenen Bearbeitungen_ (Berlin, 1878). The -other Greek novels doubtless would have been as popular had the Middle -Ages known them. In fact, the _Ethiopica_ of Heliodorus, and others of -these novels, did become popular enough through translations in the -sixteenth century. - -[333] Hugo of St. Victor says in the twelfth century: "Apud gentiles -primus Darhes Phrygius Trojanam historiam edidit, quam in foliis palmarum -ab eo scriptam esse ferunt" (_Erud. didas._ iii. cap. 3; Migne 176, col. -767). - -On the Trojan origin of the Franks, Britons, and other peoples, see Joly -in his "Benoit de St. More et le Roman de Troie," pp. 606-635 (_Mem. de la -Soc. des Antiquaires de Normandie_, vol. vii. 3{me} ser., 1869); also -Graf, _Roma nella memoria, etc., del medio aevo_. The Trojan origin of the -Franks was a commonplace in the early Middle Ages, see _e.g._ Aimoinus of -Fleury in beginning of his _Historia Francorum_, Migne 139, col. 637. - -On Dares the Phrygian and Dictys the Cretan see "Dares and Dictys," N. E. -Griffin (_Johns Hopkins Studies_, Baltimore, 1907); Taylor, _Classical -Heritage_, pp. 40 and 360 (authorities); also, generally, L. Constans, -"L'Epopee antique," in Petit de Julleville's _Histoire de la langue et de -la litterature francaise_, vol. i. (Paris, 1896). - -[334] Joseph of Exeter or de Iscano, as he is called, at the close of the -twelfth century composed a Latin poem in six books of hexameters entitled -_De bello Trojano_. It is one of the best mediaeval productions in that -metre. The author followed Dares, but his diction shows a study of Virgil, -Ovid, Statius, and Claudian. See J. J. Jusserand, _De Josepho Exoniensi -vel Iscano_ (Paris, 1877); A. Sarradin, _De Josepho Iscano, Belli Trojani, -etc._ (Versailles, 1878). - -[335] _Eneas_, ed. by Salverda de Grave (Halle, 1891), lines 7857-9262. - -[336] _Roman de Troie_, 5257-5270, ed. Joly; "Benoit de St. More et le -Roman de Troie, etc.," _Mem. de la Soc. des Antiquaires de Normandie_, -vol. vii. 3{me} ser., 1869. On its sources see also L. Constans, in Petit -de Julleville's _Hist. de la langue et de la litt. francaise_, vol. i. pp. -188-220. - -[337] _Roman de Troie_, 13235 _sqq._ - -[338] The _Roman de Thebes_, the third of these large poems, is temperate -in the adaptation and extension of its theme. Its ten thousand or more -lines of eight-syllable rhyming verse are no longer than the _Thebaid_ of -Statius, and as a narrative make quite as interesting reading. Statius, -who lived under Domitian, was a poet of considerable skill, but with no -genius for the construction of an epic. His work reads well in patches, -but does not move. Several books are taken up with getting the Argive army -in motion, and when the reader and Jove himself are wearied, it moves -on--to the next halt. And so forth through the whole twelve books. See -Nisard, _Etudes sur les poetes latins de la decadence_, vol. i. p. 261 -_sqq._ (2nd ed., Paris, 1849); Pichon, _Hist. de la litt. lat._ p. 606 -(2nd ed., Paris, 1898). The _Roman de Thebes_ was not drawn directly from -the work of Statius, but through the channels, apparently, of intervening -prose compendia. It also evidently drew from other works, as it contains -matters not found in Statius's _Thebaid_. It is easy, if not inspiring -reading. The style is clear, and the narrative moves. Of course it -presents a general mediaevalizing of the manners of Statius's somewhat -fustian antique heroes; it introduces courtly love (_e.g._ the love -between Parthonopeus and Antigone, lines 3793 _sqq._), mediaeval -commonplaces, and feudal customs. It drops the antique conception of -accursed fate as a fundamental motive of the plot, substituting in its -place the varied play of romantic and chivalric sentiment. - -Leopold Constans has made the _Roman de Thebes_ his own. Having followed -the story of Oedipus through the Middle Ages in his _Legende d'Oedipe, -etc._ (Paris, 1881) he has corrected some of his views in his critical -edition of the poem, "Le Roman de Thebes," 2 vols., 1890 (_Soc. des -anciens textes francais_), and has treated the same matters more popularly -in Petit de Julleville's _Hist. de la langue et de la litt. francaise_, -vol. i. pp. 170-188. These works fully discuss the sources, date, and -language of the poem, and the later redactions in prose and verse through -Europe. - -[339] On Pseudo-Callisthenes see Paul Meyer, _Alexandre le Grand dans la -litterature francaise du moyen age_ (Paris, 1886); Taylor, _Classical -Heritage, etc._, pp. 38 and 360. In the last quarter of the twelfth -century Walter of Lille, called also Walter of Chatillon, wrote his -_Alexandreis_ in ten books of easy-flowing hexameters. It is printed in -Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 209, col. 463-572. Cf. _ante_, page 192. His work shows -that a mediaeval scholar-poet could reproduce a historical theme quite -soberly. His poem was read by other bookmen; but the Alexander of the -Middle Ages remained the Alexander of the fabulous vernacular versions. - -[340] See Gaston Paris, "Chretien Legouais et autres imitateurs d'Ovide," -_Hist. litt. de la France_, t. xxix., pp. 455-525. - -[341] The words "nexum mancipiumque" are more formal and special than the -English given above. - -[342] The early law had as yet devised no execution against the debtor's -property. - -[343] The jurisconsults whose opinions were authoritative flourished in -the second and third centuries. The great five were Gaius, Julian, -Papinian, Ulpian, Paulus. Inasmuch as these jurisconsults of the Empire -were members of the Imperial (or, later, Praetorian) Auditory, they were -judges in a court of last resort, and their "responsa" were decisions of -actual cases. They subsequently "digested" them in their books. See Munroe -Smith, "Problems of Roman Legal History," _Columbia Law Review_, 1904, p. -538. - -[344] _Dig._ i. 1 ("De Just. et jure") 1. See Savigny, _System des -heutigen roemischen Rechts_, i. p. 109 _sqq._ Apparently some of the -jurists (_e.g._ Gaius, _Ins._ i. 1) draw no substantial distinctions -between the _jus naturale_ and the _jus gentium_. Others seem to -distinguish. With the latter, _jus naturale_ might represent natural or -instinctive principles of justice common to all men, and _jus gentium_, -the laws and customs which experience had led men to adopt. For instance, -_libertas_ is _jure naturali_, while _dominatio_ or _servitus_ is -introduced _ex gentium jure_ (_Dig._ i. 5, 4; _Dig._ xii. 6, 64). _Jus -gentium_ represented common expediency, but its institutions (e.g. -_servitus_) might or might not accord with natural justice. For -_manumissio_ as well as _servitus_ was _ex jure gentium_ (_Dig._ i. 1, 4), -and so were common modes and principles of contract. Ulpian's notion of -the _jus naturale_ as pertaining to all animals, and _jus gentium_ as -belonging to men alone, was but a catching classification, and did not -represent any commonly followed distinction. - -[345] _Constitutio_ is the more general term, embracing whatever the -emperor announces in writing as a law. The term rescript properly applies -to the emperor's written answers to questions addressed to him by -magistrates, and to the decisions of his Auditory rendered in his name. - -[346] For this whole matter, see vol. i. of Savigny's _System des heutigen -roemischen Rechts_; Gaius, _Institutes_, the opening paragraphs; and the -first two chapters of the first Book of Justinian's _Digest_. - -[347] _Dig._ i. 3, 32. - -[348] _Dig._ i. 3, 10, and 12. - -[349] _Dig._ i. 3, 14. - -[350] _Ibid._ 39. - -[351] _Dig._ l. 17, 30. - -[352] _Dig._ l. 17, 31. - -[353] _Ibid._ 54. - -[354] _Ibid._ 202. - -[355] _Dig._ l. 16, 24; _Ibid._ 17, 62. - -[356] _Cod. Theod._ (ed. by Mommsen and Meyer) i. 1, 5. - -[357] With the Theodosian Code the word _lex_, _leges_, begins to be used -for the _constitutiones_ or other decrees of a sovereign. - -[358] From the constitution directing the compilation of the _Digest_, -usually cited as _Deo auctore_. - -[359] The original plan of Theodosius embraced the project of a Codex of -the jurisprudential law. See his constitution of the year 429 in _Theod. -C._ i. 1, 5. Had this been carried out, as it was not, Justinian's -_Digest_ would have had a forerunner. - -[360] _Juliani epitome Latina Novellarum Justiniani_, ed. by G. Haenel -(Leipzig, 1873). - -[361] Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen und Lit. des roem. Rechts_, pp. 48-59, and -161 _sqq._; Mommsen, _Zeitschrift fuer Rechtsges_. 21 (1900), _Roman. -Abteilung_, pp. 150-155. - -[362] Ed. by Bluhme, _Mon. Germ. leges_, iii. 579-630. Cf. Tardif, -_Sources du droit francais_, 124-128. A code of Burgundian law had already -been made. - -[363] Edited by Haenel, with the epitomes of it in parallel columns, under -the name of _Lex Romana Visigothorum_ (Leipzig, 1849). See Tardif, _o.c._ -129-143. - -[364] _Cod. Theod._ i. 4, 3; _Brev._ i. 4, 1. - -[365] On these epitomes and glosses see Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen, etc._, -pp. 222-252. Mention should be made of the Edict of Theodoric the -Ostrogoth, a piece of legislation contemporary with the _Breviarium_ and -the _Papianus_. In pursuance of Theodoric's policy of amalgamating Goths -and Romans, the Edict was made for both (_Barbari Romanique_). Its sources -were substantially the same as those of the _Breviarium_, except that -Gaius was not used. The sources are not given verbatim, but their contents -are restated, often quite bunglingly. Naturally a Teutonic influence runs -through this short and incomplete code, which contains more criminal than -private law. No further reference need be made to it because its influence -practically ceased with the reconquest of Italy by Justinian. It is edited -by Bluhme, in _Mon. Ger. leges_, v. 145-169. See as to it, Savigny, -_Geschichte des roem. Rechts_, ii. 172-181; Salvioli, _Storia del diritto -italiano_, 3rd ed., pp. 45-47. - -[366] Cf. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. p. 109 _sqq._ - -[367] For the characteristics and elements of early Teutonic law see -Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, Bd. i. - -[368] See Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. p. 254 _sqq._, and -338-340. - -[369] "Adversus Gundobadi legem," c. 4 (_Mon. Germ. leges_, iii. 504). As -to Agobard see _ante_, Vol. I. p. 232. - -[370] The matter is suggested here only in its general aspects. The -details present every kind of complication (for some purposes to-day a -court will apply the law of the litigant's domicile). The _professio_ -(_professus sum_ or _professa sum_), by which a man or woman formally -declares by what law he or she lives, remained common in Italy for five -centuries after Pippin's conquest, and indicates the legal situation -there, especially of the Teutonic newcomers. - -[371] One sees an analogy in the fortunes of the Boethian translations of -the more advanced treatises of Aristotle's _Organon_. They fell into -disuse (or never came into use) and so were "lost" until they came to -light, _i.e._ into use, in the last part of the twelfth century. - -[372] See Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen_, pp. 182-187. - -[373] See Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen, etc._, pp. 162-166, 168-182, 192-202, -240-252. - -[374] See Salvioli, _Storia di diritto italiano_, 3rd ed., 1899, pp. -84-90; ibid. _L' Istruzione pubblica in Italia nei secoli VIII. IX. X._; -Tardif, _Hist. des sources du droit francais_, p. 281 _sqq._; Savigny, -_Geschichte, etc._, iv. pp. 1-9; Fitting, "Zur Geschichte der -Rechtswissenschaft im Mittelalter," _Zeitschrift fuer Rges. Sav. Stift., -Roman. Abteil._, Bd. vi., 1885, pp. 94-186; ibid. _Juristische Schriften -des frueheren Mittelalters_, 108 _sqq._ (Halle, 1876). - -[375] A contemporary notice speaks of the enormous number of judges, -lawyers, and notaries in Milan about the year 1000. Salvioli, _L' -Istruzione pubblica, etc._, p. 78. It is hard to imagine that no legal -instruction could be had there. - -[376] The evidence is gathered in different parts of Savigny's -_Geschichte_. - -[377] _De parentelae gradibus_, see Savigny, _Geschichte_, Bd. iv. p. 1 -_sqq._ - -[378] See Savigny, _Geschichte_, Bd. ii. pp. 134-163 (the text is -published in an Appendix to that volume, pp. 321-428); Conrat, _Ges. der -Quellen, etc._, pp. 420-549; Tardif, _Hist. des sources du droit -francais_, pp. 213-246. - -[379] This follows the so-called Tuebingen MSS., the largest immediate -source of the _Petrus_. As well-nigh the entire substance of the _Petrus_ -is drawn from the immediately prior compilations (which are still -unpublished) its characteristics are really theirs. - -[380] Apparently the chief magistrate of Valence: "Valentinae civitatis -magistro magnifico." - -[381] _Petri exceptiones_, iii. 69. - -[382] _Petrus_, i. 66. - -[383] See Conrat, _Ges. der Quellen, etc._, 550-582; Tardif, _Hist. des -sources, etc._, pp. 207-213; Fitting, _Zeitschrift fuer Rges._ Bd. vi. p. -141. It is edited by Bocking (Berlin, 1829) under the title of _Corpus -legum sive Brachylogus juris civilis_. - -[384] For instance, _Brach._ ii. 12, "De juris et facti ignorantia," is -short and clear. It follows mainly _Digest_ xxii. 6. - -[385] _Summa Codicis des Irnerius_, ed. by Fitting (Berlin, 1894). See -Introduction, and also Fitting in _Zeitschrift fuer Rechtsgeschichte_, Bd. -xvii. (1896), _Romanische Abteilung_, pp. 1-96. - -[386] Cf. _Summa Codicis Irnerii_, vii. 23, and vii. 31. 1. - -[387] _Summa Codicis Irnerii_, i. 14. The corresponding passages in -Justinian's Codification are _Dig._ i. 3, lex 12 and 38, and _Codex_ vii. -45, lex 13. - -[388] _Summa Codicis Irnerii_, vii. 22 and 23. The chief Justinianean -sources are _Dig._ xli. 2, and _Cod._ xii. 32. - -[389] See Salvioli, _Manuale, etc._, pp. 65-68; ibid. _L' Istruzione -pubblica in Italia_, pp. 72-75; Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. -p. 387 _sqq._ - -[390] _Post_, Chapter XXXV., I. - -[391] The Bologna school is commonly called the school of the glossators. -Their work was to expound the law of Justinian; and their glosses, or -explanatory notes, were the part of their writings which had the most -permanent influence. The glosses were originally written between the lines -or on the margins of the codices of the _Digest_, _Codex_, _Novels_, and -_Institutes_. - -[392] Savigny gives examples of Irnerius's glosses in an appendix to the -fourth volume of his _Geschichte_. Pescatore (_Die Glossen des Irnerius_, -Greifswald, 1888) maintains that Savigny overstates the difference between -the interlinear and the marginal glosses of Irnerius. - -[393] On Placentinus see Savigny, _Geschichte_, iv. pp. 244-285. - -[394] _Proemium_ to _De var. actionum_, given by Savigny, iv. p. 540. - -[395] This is from the _proemium_ attached to one old edition, and is -given in Sav. _Ges._ iv. p. 245. In an appendix, p. 542, Savigny gives an -even more florid _proemium_ to the _Summa Codicis_ from a manuscript. - -[396] On Azo, see Savigny, _Ges._ v. pp. 1-44. - -[397] Quoted by Savigny. On Accursius see Sav. _Ges._ v. pp. 262-305. - -[398] On Bartolus see Savigny, _Ges. etc._ vi. pp. 137-184. - -[399] Cf. Savigny, _Ges._ v. pp. 222-261. - -[400] "Ecclesia vivit lege Romana," _Lex Ribuaria_, 58. This was -universally recognized, although the individual _clericus_ might remain -amenable to the law of his birth. - -[401] For these matters see primarily the sixteenth book of the Theodosian -Code, and book i. chap. 27. Also the suspected _Constitutiones -Sirmondianae_ attached to that Code. Justinian's _Codex_ and _Novellae_ -add much. Zorn, in his _Kirchenrecht_, p. 29 _sqq._, gives a convenient -synopsis of the matter. - -[402] One observes that the opening chapter of Justinian's _Digest_ speaks -of _jurisprudentia_ as knowledge of divine as well as human matters. - -[403] _Decretum_, i. dist. viii. c. i. - -[404] _Decretum_, i. dist. ix. c. xi.; see _ibid._ dist. xiii., opening. - -[405] Tardif, _Sources du droit canonique_, p. 175 _sqq._, has been -chiefly followed here. - -[406] On the above matters see (with the authorities and bibliographies -therein given) Maasen, _Geschichte der Quellen, etc., der canonischen -Rechts_ (Bd. i., to the middle of the ninth century); Tardif, _Sources du -droit canonique_ (Paris, 1887); Zorn, _Lehrbuch des Kirchenrechts_ -(Stuttgart, 1888); Gerlach, _Lehrbuch des catholischen Kirchenrechts_ (5th -edition, Paderborn, 1890); Hinschius, _Decretales pseudo-Isidorianae_ -(Leipzig, 1863); _Corpus juris canonici_, ed. by Friedberg (Leipzig, -1879-1881). - -[407] Jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts embraced marriage and -divorce, wills and inheritance, and, by virtue of their surveillance of -usury and vows and oaths, practically the whole relationship between -debtor and creditor. - -[408] Volume ii. of R. W. and A. J. Carlyle's _History of Mediaeval -Political Theory in the West_ (1909) maintains that the statements of -papal pretensions which were incorporated in the recognized collections of -_Decretals_ were less extreme than those emanating from the papacy under -stress of controversy. - -[409] See Gierke, _Political Theories of the Middle Ages_, trans. by -Maitland (Cambridge, 1900), p. 22 _sqq._ and notes. I would express my -indebtedness to this book for these pages on mediaeval political theories. -Dunning's _History of Political Theories_ is a convenient outline; -Carlyle's _History of Mediaeval Political Theory_ gives the sources -carefully. - -[410] Occasionally _studium_ (knowledge, study, or science) is introduced -as a third part or element of the human community or of human life. Thus -in the famous statement of Jordanes of Osnabrueck--the Romans received the -Sacerdotium, the Germans the Imperium, the French the Studium. See Gierke, -_Political Theories_, p. 104, note 8. - -[411] Cf. Gierke, _o.c._ p. 109, note 16. But compare Carlyle, _o.c._ vol. -ii. part ii. chaps. vii.-xi. - -[412] Even toward the close of the Middle Ages Marsilius of Padua was -almost alone in positing the absolute supremacy of the State, says Gierke. - -[413] See Gierke, _o.c._ p. 144, note 131, and compare notes 132, 133, and -183 for attacks upon the plenary power of the pope. - -[414] Gierke, _o.c._ pp. 31-32, and p. 139, notes 107 and 108. - -[415] _Dig._ i. 4, 1; Gierke, _o.c._ p. 39 and pp. 146, 147. - -[416] Gierke, _o.c._ p. 64. - -[417] Gierke, _o.c._ p. 172, note 256. Cf. _ante_, p. 268. - -[418] See Gierke, _o.c._ pp. 73-86, and corresponding notes. - -[419] Little will be said in these pages of palpable crass heretics like -the Cathari, for example. The philosophic ideas of such seem gathered from -the flotsam and jetsam of the later antique world; their stock was not of -the best, and bore little interesting fruit for later times. Such -mediaeval heresies present no continuous evolution like that of the proper -scholasticism. Progress in philosophy and theology came through _academic_ -personages, who at all events laid claim to orthodoxy. All lines of -advance leading on to later phases of philosophic, scientific, and -religious thought, lay within the labours of such, some of whom, however, -were suspected or even condemned by the Church, like Eriugena, Abaelard, -or Roger Bacon. But these men did not stand apart from orthodox academic -circles, and were never cast out by the Church. Thought and learning in -the Middle Ages were domiciled in monastic, episcopal, or university -circles; and these were at least conventionally orthodox. - -It has been said, to be sure, that the heresy of one generation becomes -the orthodoxy of another; but this is true only of tendencies like those -of Abaelard, which represent the gradual expansion and clearing up of -scholastic processes. For the time they may be condemned, perhaps because -of the vain and contentious character of the suspected thinker; but in the -end they are recognized as admissible. - -The Averroists constitute an apparent exception. Yet they were a -philosophic and academic sect, whose heresy consisted in an implicit -following of Aristotle as interpreted by Averroes. Moreover, they sought -to save their orthodoxy by their doctrine of the two kinds of truth, -philosophic and theological or dogmatic. It is not clear that much -fruitful thought came from their school. The positions of Siger de -Brabant, a prominent Averroist and contemporary of Aquinas, are referred -to _post_, Chapter XXXVII. The best account of Averroism is Mandonnet's -_Siger de Brabant et l'averroisme latin au XIII{e} siecle_ (a second -edition, Louvain, is in preparation). See also De Wulf, _Hist. of Medieval -Philosophy_ (3rd. ed., Longmans, 1909) p. 379 _sqq._ with authorities -cited. - -[420] Called also his _Summa philosophica_, to distinguish it from his -_Summa theologiae_. - -[421] _Summa theologiae_, i. i., quaestio i. art. 1-8. - -[422] _Post_, Chapter XXXVI., I. - -[423] Even the Averroists were more mediaeval than Greek, inasmuch as they -professed to follow Aristotle implicitly. Cf. _post_, Chapter XXXVII., at -the end. - -[424] A touch of "salvation," or salvation's need, is on Plato when his -"philosophy" becomes a consideration of death ([Greek: melete thanatou]) -and a process of growing as like to God ([Greek: omoiosis theo]) as man -can. _Phaedo_, 80 E, and _Theaetetus_, 176 A. - -[425] _Historia calamitatum_, cap. 9 and 10. Cf. _post_, p. 303. - -[426] _Post_, Chapter XLI. - -[427] _Ante_, p. 298. I cannot avoid referring to Abaelard several times -before considering the man and his work more specifically, and in the -proper place; _post_, Chapter XXXVI. I. - -[428] _Introductio ad theologiam_, lib. ii. (Migne 178, col. 1039). - -[429] See Denifle, "Die Sentenzen Abaelard's und die Bearbeitungen seiner -Theologia," _Archiv fuer Literatur und Kirchengeschichte_, i. p. 402 _sqq._ -and p. 584 _sqq._ Also Picavet, "Abelard et Alexander de Hales, createurs -de la methode scholastique," _Bib. de l'ecole des hautes etudes, sciences -religieuses_, t. vii. p. 221 _sqq._ - -[430] Two extracts, one from the _Sentences_ and one from the _Summa_, -touching the same matter, will illustrate the stage in the scholastic -process reached by Peter Lombard, about the year 1150, and that attained -by Thomas Aquinas a hundred years later. - -The Lombard's _Four Books of Sentences_ are divided into _Distinctiones_, -with sub-titles to the latter. Distinctio xlvi. of the first Book bears -the general title: "The opinion (_sententia_) declaring that the will of -God which is himself, cannot be frustrated, seems to be opposed by some -opinions." The first subdivision of the text begins: "Here the question -rises. For it is said by the authorities above adduced [the preceding -Distinctio had discussed "The will of God which is His essence, one and -eternal"] that the will of God, which is himself, and is called His good -pleasure (_beneplacitum_) cannot be frustrated, because by that will -_fecit quaecumque voluit in caelo et in terra_, which--witness the -Apostle--_nihil resistit_. [I leave the Scriptural quotations in Latin, so -as to mark them.] It is queried, therefore, how one should understand what -the Apostle says concerning the Lord, 1 Tim. 2: _Qui vult omnes homines -salvos fieri_. For since all are not saved, but many are damned, that -which God wills to take place, seems not to take place (become, _fieri_), -the human will obstructing the will of God. The Lord also in the Gospel -reproaching the wicked city, Matt, xxiii., says: _Quoties volui congregare -filios tuos, sicut gallina congregat pullos suos sub alis, et noluisti_. -Thus it might seem from these, that the will of God may be overcome by the -will of men, and, resisted by the unwillingness of the weakest, the Most -Strong may prove unable to do what He willed. Where then is that -omnipotence by which in _coelo et terra_, according to the Prophet, _omnia -quaecumque voluit fecit_? And how does nothing withstand His will, if He -wished to gather the children of Jerusalem, and did not? For these sayings -seem indeed to oppose what has been stated." - -The second paragraph proceeds: "But let us see the solution, and first -hear how what the Lord said should be understood. For it was not intended -to mean (as Augustine says, _Enchiridion_, c. 97, solving this question) -that the Lord wished to gather the children of Jerusalem, and did not do -what He willed because she would not; but rather she did not wish her -children to be gathered by Him, yet in spite of her unwillingness (_qua -tamen nolente_) He gathered all He willed of her children.... And the -sense is: As many as I have gathered by my will, always effective, I have -gathered, thou being unwilling. Hence it is evident that these words of -the Lord are not opposed to the authorities referred to." - -(Paragraph 3) "Now it remains to see how the aforesaid words do not -contradict what the Apostle said of the Lord: _Vult omnes homines salvos -fieri_. Because of these words many have wandered from the truth, saying -that God willed many things which did not come to pass. But the saying is -not thus to be understood, as if God willed any to be saved, and they were -not. For who can be so impiously foolish as to say that God cannot change -the evil wills of men to good when and where He will? Surely what is said -in Psalm 113, _Quaecumque voluit fecit_, is not true, if He willed -anything and did not accomplish it. Or,--(and this is still more shameful) -for that reason He did not do it, because what the Omnipotent willed to -come to pass, the will of man obstructed. Hence when we read in Holy -Scripture _velit omnes homines salvos fieri_, we should not detract from -the will of omnipotent God, but understand the text to mean that no man is -saved except whom He wills to be saved: not that there is no man whom He -does not will to be saved, but that no man may be saved except whom He -wills should be saved.... Thus also is to be understood the text from John -i.: _Illuminat omnem hominem venientem in hunc mundum_; not as if there is -no man who is not lighted, but that none is lighted save from Him...." - -The next and fourth paragraph takes up the problem whether evil, that is -sin, takes place by the will of God, or He unwilling (_eo nolente_). "As -to this, divers men thinking diversely have been found in contradiction. -For some say that God wills evils to be or become (_esse vel fieri_) yet -does not will evils. But others say that He neither wills evils to be nor -to become. Yet these and those agree in declaring that God does not will -evils. Yet each with arguments as well as authorities strives to make good -his assertion." We will not follow the Lombard through this thorny -problem. He cuts his way with passages from his chief patristic authority, -Augustine, and in the end concludes: "Leaving this and other like foolish -opinions, and favouring the sounder view, which is more fully sanctioned -by the testimonies of the Saints, we may say that God neither wills evils -to become, nor wills that they should not become, nor yet is He unwilling -(_nolle_) that they should become. All that He wills to become, becomes, -and all that He wills not to become does not become. Yet many things -become which He does not will to become, as every evil." - -Thus the Lombard. Now let us see how Thomas, in his _Summa theologiae_, -Pars Prima, Quaestio xix. Articulus ix. expounds the point: _utrum -voluntas Dei sit malorum_. - -"As to the ninth articulus thus one proceeds. (1) It seems [_Videtur_, -formula for stating the initial argument which will not be approved] that -the will of God is [the cause] of evils. For God wills every good that -becomes (_i.e._ comes into existence). But it is good that evils should -come; for Augustine says in the _Enchiridion_: 'Although those things -which are evils, in so far as they are evils, are not goods; yet it is -good (_bonum_) that there should be not only goods (_bona_) but evils.' -Therefore God wills evils." - -"(2) Moreover [_Praeterea_, Thomas's regular formula for introducing the -succeeding arguments, which he will not approve] Dionysius says, iv. cap. -_de divinis nominibus_: 'There will be evil making for the perfection of -the whole.' And Augustine says in the _Enchiridion_: 'Out of all (things) -the admirable beauty of the universe arises; wherein even that which is -called evil, well ordered and set in its place, commends the good more -highly; since the good pleases more, and is the more praiseworthy, when -compared with evil.' But God wills everything that pertains to the -perfection and grace of the universe; since this is what God chiefly wills -in His creation. Therefore God wills evils." - -"(3) Moreover, the occurrence and non-occurrence of evils (_mala fieri, et -non fieri_) are contradictory opposites. But God does not will evils not -to occur; because since some evils do occur, the will of God would not be -fulfilled. Therefore God wills evils to occur." - -"_Sed contra est_ [Thomas's formula for stating the opinion which he will -approve] what Augustine says in his book of Eighty-three Questions: 'No -wise man is the author of man's deterioration; yet God is more excellent -than any wise man; much less then, is God the author of any one's -deterioration. But He is said to be the author when He is spoken of as -willing anything. Therefore man becomes worse, God not willing it. But -with every evil, something becomes worse. Therefore God does not will -evils.'" - -"_Respondeo dicendum quod_ [Thomas's formula for commencing his -elucidation] since the reason (or ground or cause, _ratio_) of the good is -likewise the reason of the desirable (as discussed previously), evil is -opposed to good: it is impossible that any evil, as evil, should be -desired, either by the natural appetite or the animal, or the -intellectual, which is will. But some evil may be desired _per accidens_, -in so far as it conduces to some good. And this is apparent in any -appetite. For the natural impulse (_agens naturale_) does not aim at -privation or destruction (_corruptio_); but at form, to which the -privation of another form may be joined (_i.e._ needed, _conjungitur_); -and at the generation of one, which is the destruction of another. Thus a -lion, killing a stag, aims at food, to which is joined the killing of an -animal. Likewise the fornicator aims at enjoyment, to which is joined the -deformity of guilt. - -"Thus evil which is joined to some good, is privation of another good. -Never, therefore, is evil desired, not even _per accidens_, unless the -good to which the evil is joined appears greater than the good which is -annulled through the evil. But God wills no good more than His goodness; -yet He wills some one good more than some other good. Hence the evil of -guilt, which destroys relationship to divine good (_quod privat ordinem ad -bonum divinum_), God in no way wills. But the evil of natural defect, or -the evil of penalty, He wills in willing some good to which such evil is -joined; as, in willing righteousness He wills penalty; and in willing that -the order of nature be preserved, He wills certain natural corruptions. - -"_Ad primum ergo dicendum_ [Thomas's formula for commencing his reply to -the first false argument] that certain ones have said that although God -does not will evils, He wills evils to be or become: because, although -evils are not goods, yet it is good that evils should be or become. They -said this for the reason that those things which are evil in themselves, -are ordained for some good; and they deemed this ordainment involved in -saying _mala esse vel fieri_. But that is not said rightly. Because evil -is not ordained for good _per se_ but _per accidens_. For it is beyond the -sinner's intent, that good should come of it; just as it was beyond the -intent of the tyrants that from their persecutions the patience of the -martyrs should shine forth. And therefore it cannot be said that such -ordainment for good is involved in saying that it is good for evil to be -or become: because nothing is adjudged according to what pertains to it -_per accidens_ but according to what pertains to it _per se_." - -"_Ad secundum dicendum_ that evil is not wrought for the perfection or -beauty of the whole except _per accidens_, as has been shown. Hence this -which Dionysius says that evil makes for the perfection of the whole may -lead to an illogical conclusion." - -"_Ad tertium dicendum_ that although the occurrence and non-occurrence of -evils are opposed as contradictories; yet to will the occurrence and to -will the non-occurrence of evils, are not opposed as contradictories, -since both one and the other may be affirmative. God therefore neither -wills the occurrence nor the non-occurrence of evils; but wills to permit -their occurrence. And this is good." - -[431] _Ante_, Chapter XII. - -[432] _Ante_, pp. 289 _sqq._ - -[433] The _Speculum majus_ of Vincent of Beauvais will afford the -principal example of the resulting hybrid arrangement. - -[434] Ludwig Baur, _Dominicus Gundissalinus, De divisione philosophiae_ -(Baeumker's _Beitraege_, Muenster, 1903), p. 193 _sqq._, to which I am -indebted for what I have to say in the next few pages. - -[435] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 64, col. 10 _sqq._ - -[436] These works were written near the middle of the twelfth century. -Gundissalinus was Archdeacon of Segovia and drew upon Arab writings. - -[437] See L. Baur, _Gundissalinus, etc._, p. 376 _sqq._ - -[438] The treatise is not printed. Its captions are given by L. Baur in -his _Gundissalinus_, pp. 368-375, from which I have borrowed what I give -of them. - -[439] _Liber de praedicabilibus_ (tome 1 of Albertus's works), which in -scholastic logic means the five "universals," genus, species, difference, -property, accident, (also called the _quinque voces_) discussed in -Porphyry's Introduction to the _Categories_. The _Categories_ themselves -are called _praedicamenta_. - -[440] The above gives the arguments of chapters i. and ii. of the work. -One notices that Albertus in this exposition of the subject of Porphyry's -treatise, is using the _method_ which Thomas brings to syllogistic -perfection in his _Summa_. - -[441] It was printed, more than once, in the late fifteenth century; the -most readable edition is that printed at Douai in 1624, in four huge -folios. - -[442] Boundless as the work appears, neither in mental powers, nor -learning, nor in massiveness of achievement, is its author to be compared -with Albertus Magnus. The _De universo_ of Rabanus Maurus, Migne 111, col. -9-612, is in its arrangement and method a forerunner of Vincent's -_Speculum_. Later predecessors were the English Franciscan Bartolomaeus, -whose encyclopaedic _De proprietatibus rerum_ was written a little before -the middle of the twelfth century (see Felder, _Studien in -Franciscanerorder, etc._, pp. 251-253); and Lambertus Audomarensis (St. -Omer) with his _Liber floridus_, a general digest of knowledge, -historical, ecclesiastical, and natural, taken from many writers, an -account of which is given in Migne 163, col. 1004 _sqq._ - -[443] Here, of course, we have the hands of Esau, but the voice of -Augustine and Orosius! - -[444] The above is from cap. 9 of liber i. of the _Speculum doctrinale_. - -[445] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 34, col. 246-485. - -[446] _Ante_, p. 290. - -[447] The three theological virtues are _fides_, _spes_, and _caritas_. -They are called thus because _Deum habent pro objecto_; and because they -are poured (_infunduntur_) into us by God alone. They are distinguished -from the moral and intellectual virtues because their object surpasses our -reason, while the object of the moral and intellectual virtues can be -comprehended by human reason (_Summa_, _Pars prima secundae_, Quaestio -lxii., Art. 1-4). - -[448] [Greek: hexis meta logou alethous poietike], Arist. _Nich. Ethics_, -vi. 4. - -[449] One notes that these two, like many other of the vices enumerated, -are vices in that they are extremes, in the Aristotelian sense. - -[450] We are at Quaestio clxxi. of _Secunda secundae_. - -[451] The order which Thomas would have followed in the unfinished -conclusion of his _Summa theologiae_, may be inferred from the order of -the last half of Book IV. of his _Contra Gentiles_, or indeed from the -last part of the fourth Book of the Lombard's _Sentences_. - -[452] _Ante_, Chapter XII. - -[453] There were, of course, attempts at translation, notably those of -Notker the German (see _ante_, Vol. I., p. 308) and Alfred's translation -of Boethius's _De consolatione_. But such were made only of the popular -parts of Scripture (_e.g._ the Psalms) or of very elementary profane -treatises. To what extent Notker's translations were used, is hard to say. -But at all events any one really seeking learning, studied and worked and -thought in the medium of Latin; for the bulk of the patristic writings -never were translated; and when the works of Aristotle had at last reached -the Middle Ages in the Latin tongue, they were studied in that tongue. -Because of the crudeness of the vernacular tongues, the Latin classics -were even more untranslatable in the tenth or eleventh century than now. - -One may add, that it was fortunate for the progress of mediaeval learning -that Latin was the _one_ language used by all scholars in all countries. -This facilitated the diffusion of knowledge. How slow and painful would -have been that diffusion if the different vernacular tongues had been used -in their respective countries, for serious writing. - -[454] _Ante_, Chapter XII., I. - -[455] _Eruditio didascalica_, i. cap. 12 (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 176, col. -750). - -[456] Cf. Abelson, _The Seven Liberal Arts_ (New York, 1906). - -[457] I am speaking generally, that is to say, omitting for the present -the aberrant or special or intrusive tendencies found in a man like Roger -Bacon, for example. They were of importance for what was to come -thereafter; but are not broadly representative of the Middle Ages. - -[458] St. Anselm, _Epist._ lib. iii. 41, _ad Fulconem_ (Migne, _Pat. Lat._ -158, col. 1192). So Roscellin showed in his own case how problems -primarily logical could pass over to metaphysics or theology. Likewise, -although on the other side of the controversy, one, Odo of Tournai, a good -contemporary realist, found realism an efficient aid in explaining the -transmission of original sin; since for him all men formed but one -substance, which was infected once for all by the sin of the first -parents. Cf. Haureau, _Hist. de la philosophie scholastique_, i. pp. -297-308; De Wulf, _Hist. of Medieval Philosophy_, p. 156, 3rd ed. - -[459] Abaelard, _Hist. calamitatum_, chap. 2. - -[460] _Ante_, Chapter XXV. - -[461] _Ante_, Chapter XII., I. - -[462] Abaelard's _Dialectica_ was published by Cousin, _Ouvrages inedits -d'Abelard_ (Paris, 1836). For a thorough exposition of Abaelard's logic -see Prantl, _Ges. der Logik_, ii. p. 160 _sqq._ - -[463] _I.e._ as positive, comparative, and superlative. - -[464] Cousin, _Ouvr. inedits_, p. 175. Cf. Aristotle's _Categories_, ii. -v. 20. The opening of _Pars tertia_ of Abaelard's _Dialectica_ (in -Cousin's edition, p. 324 _sqq._) affords an interesting example of this -logical analysis and reconstruction of statement, which seems to originate -in sheer grammar, and then advance beyond it. - -[465] Cousin, _o.c._ pp. 190, 192. - -[466] Cousin, _o.c._ p. 331. - -[467] Prantl's _Geschichte der Logik_, vol. ii., contains an exhaustive -discussion of the various phases of this controversy: its language is -little less difficult than that of the twelfth-century word-twisters. - -[468] Cousin, _o.c._ pp. 434, 435. - -[469] _Theologia Christiana_, iv. (Migne 178, col. 1284). - -[470] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 178, col. 1641. - -[471] _Ante_, p. 292. - -[472] _Scito te ipsum_, cap. 13 (Migne 178, col. 653). - -[473] _Scito te ipsum_, cap. 19 (Migne 178, col. 664). - -[474] Migne 178, col. 1615. - -[475] _Ante_, pp. 304 _sqq._ - -[476] This has been published by Stoelzle: _Abaelards 1121 zu Soissons -verurteilter Tractatus de Unitate et Trinitate divina_ (1891). - -[477] Migne 178, col. 1123-1330; Cousin and Jourdain, _P. Abaelardi -opera_, ii. pp. 357-566 (1859). - -[478] Migne 178, col. 979-1114; Cousin and Jourdain, _o.c._ pp. 1-149. - -[479] _Ante_, Chapter XXXV., I. - -[480] Bernard, _Ep._ 338 (Migne 182, col. 542). - -[481] Whose sacramental theory of the Creation has already been given at -length, _ante_, Chapter XXVIII. For the incidents of Hugo's life see the -same chapter. Bibliography, note to page 61. See also Ostler, "Die -Psychologie des Hugo von St. Viktor" (Baeumker's _Beitraege_, Muenster, -1906). - -[482] _De script._ cap. 2 (Migne 175, col. 11). - -[483] _De script._ cap. 2 (Migne 175, col. 10). - -[484] _Summa sententiarum_ (Migne 176, col. 42-174); also under title of -_Tractatus theologicus_, wrongly ascribed to Hildebert of Lavardin, in -Migne 171, col. 1067-1150. - -[485] Migne 176, col. 740-838. - -[486] I think of no previous work so closely resembling the _Erud. didas._ -as the _Institutiones divinarum et saecularum lectionum_ of Cassiodorus. - -[487] _Erud. did._ i. 2. - -[488] Here one sees the source of much that we quoted from Vincent de -Beauvais, _ante_, Chapter XXXV., 1. - -[489] Lib. iii. cap. 13 _sqq._ - -[490] _Erud. did._ iii. cap. 20. Cf. _ante_, p. 63. - -[491] _Ante_, Chapter XXVIII. - -[492] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 175, col. 115 _sqq._ - -[493] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 175, col. 923 _sqq._ - -[494] The following consideration of the mysticism of Christian -theologians is not intended to include other forms of "mysticism" -(Pantheistic, poetical, pathological, neurotic, intellectual, and -sensuous) within or without the Christian pale. - -[495] _Ante_, p. 42 _sqq._ - -[496] _Ante_, Chapter XXVIII. - -[497] Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 176, col. 617-680. - -[498] _De arca Noe morali_, i. cap. 2 (Migne 176, col. 621). - -[499] Migne 176, col. 681-703. With Hugo's pupil, Richard of St. Victor, -this constant allegory, especially the constant allegorical use of -Scripture names, becomes pedantic, _precieux_, impossible. See _e.g._ his -_Benjamin major_ in Migne 196, col. 64-202. - -[500] _De arrha animae_, Migne 176, col. 951-970. - -[501] Migne 182, col. 727-808. A translation is announced by George Lewis -in the Oxford Library of Translations. - -[502] _De consid._ lib. ii. cap. 2. - -[503] Migne 183, col. 789 _sqq._ Chapter XVII., _ante_, is devoted to -Bernard, and his letters and sermons. - -[504] Ed. by Willner (Baeumker's _Beitraege_, Muenster, 1903). - -[505] See _ante_, Chapter XXX., 1. - -[506] Bernardus Silvestris, _De mundi universitate_, i. 2 (ed. by Barach -and Wrobel; Innsbrueck, 1876). As to Bernard Silvestris, see Clerval, -_Ecoles de Chartres au moyen age_, p. 259 _sqq._ and _passim_; also -Haureau (who confuses him with Bernard of Chartres), _Hist. de la phil. -scholastique_, ii. 407 _sqq._ - -[507] See Haureau, _Hist. etc._ ii. 447-472; R. L. Poole, _Illustrations -of Mediaeval Thought_, chap. vi. His _Liber de sex principiis_ is printed -in Migne 188, col. 1257-1270. - -[508] Werner, "Die Kosmologie und Naturlehre des scholastischen -Mittelalters, mit specialler Beziehung auf Wilhelm von Conches," -_Sitzungsb. K. Akad., philos. Klasse_, 1873, Bd. lxxv.; Haureau, _Hist. -etc._ i. 431-446; ibid. _Singularites litteraires, etc._ - -[509] _Ante_, Vol. I., p. 251. - -[510] _Ante_, Chapter XXX., I. - -[511] Under another title, _Moralis philosophia de honesto et utile_, it -has been ascribed to Hildebert of Lavardin, Migne 171, col. 1007-1056. - -[512] For examples of John's Latin, see _ante_, p. 173. - -[513] See _e.g._ his treatment of logic in Lib. III. and IV. of the -_Metalogicus_ (Migne 199). - -[514] _Polycraticus_, ii. 19-21 _sqq._ There is now a critical edition of -this work by C. C. J. Webb (_Joannis Saresberiensis Policratici libri -VIII._; Clarendon Press, 1910). - -[515] _Polycraticus_, lib. vii., is devoted to a history of antique -philosophy. - -[516] _Polycraticus_, vii. cap. 10. - -[517] _Polycrat._ vii. cap. 11. - -[518] Migne 199, col. 955. - -[519] _Ante_, Chapter XXIX., 11. and XXXII., 1. - -[520] The works of Alanus are collected in Migne, _Pat. Lat._ 210. What -follows in the text is much indebted to M. Baumgartner, "Die Philosophie -des Alanus de Insulis" (Baeumker's _Beitraege_, Muenster, 1896). - -[521] All this is thoroughly done by Baumgartner, _o.c._ - -[522] See Baumgartner, p. 76 _sqq._ and citations. - -[523] What I have felt obliged to say upon the organization of mediaeval -Universities, I have largely drawn from Rashdall's _Universities of Europe -in the Middle Ages_ (Oxford, 1895). The subject is too large and complex -for independent investigation, except of the most lengthy and thorough -character. Extracts from illustrative mediaeval documents, with -considerable information touching mediaeval Universities, are brought -together by Arthur O. Norton in his _Mediaeval Universities_ (Readings in -the History of Education, Harvard University, 1909). For the Paris -University, the most important source is the _Chartularium Universitatis -Parisiensis_, ed. by Denifle and Chatelain (1889-1891). See also Ch. -Thurot, _L'Organisation de l'enseignement dans l'Universite de Paris_ -(Paris, 1850), and Denifle, _Die Universitaeten des Mittelalters_ (Berlin, -1885). - -[524] What has been said applies to the Bologna Law University. That had -been preceded by a school of Arts, and later there grew up a flourishing -school of Medicine, where surgery was also taught. These schools became -affiliated Universities, but never equalled the Law University in -importance. - -[525] The Masters who taught were called _Regentes_. - -[526] Both civil and canon law were studied till 1219, when a Bull of -Honorius III. forbade the study of the former at Paris. - -[527] See _post_, p. 399. - -[528] Mr. Rashdall's. - -[529] Rashdall, _o.c._ ii. p. 341. - -[530] Oxford lay in the diocese of Lincoln. - -[531] For the course of medicine and the list of books studied or lectured -on, especially at Montpellier, from which we have the most complete list, -see Rashdall, ii. p. 118 _sqq._ and _ibid._ p. 780. In _Harvard Studies in -Classical Philology_, vol. xx., 1909, C. H. Haskins publishes An -unpublished List of Text-books, belonging to the close of the twelfth -century, when classical studies had not as yet been overshadowed by -Dialectic. See also, generally, Paetow, _The Arts Course at Medieval -Universities_ (Univ. of Illinois, 1910). - -[532] See generally, Carra de Vaux, _Avicenne_ (Paris, 1900); also -_Gazali_, by the same author. - -[533] Whoever will read the two monographs of the Baron Carra de Vaux, -_Avicenne_ and _Gazali_, will be struck by the closely analogous courses -of Moslem and Christian thought; each showing the parallel phases of -scholastic rationalism (reliant upon reason and rational authority) and -scholastic theological piety, or mysticism (reliant upon the authority of -Revelation and sceptical as to the validity of human reason). - -[534] See for this matter Mandonnet, O.P., _Aristote et la mouvement -intellectuel du moyen age_, contained in his _Siger de Brabant_, and -printed separately; De Wulf, _History of Medieval Philosophy_, 3rd ed., -pp. 243-253 and authorities; C. Marchesi, _L' Etica Nicomachea nella -tradizione medievale_ (Messina, 1904). - -[535] _Ante_, Chapter V. - -[536] _Constitutiones des Prediger-Ordens vom Jahre 1228_, Prologus; H. -Denifle, _Archiv fuer Litt. und Kirchenges. des Mittelalters_, Bd i. -(1885), p. 194. - -[537] See Felder, _Wissenschaftlichen Studien im Franciskanerorden_, p. 24 -(Freiburg im Breisgau, 1904); a valuable work. - -[538] See Felder, _o.c._ p. 29. - -[539] _Constitutiones, etc._, cap. 28-31. - -[540] Cf. Felder, _o.c._ p. 107 _sqq._ - -[541] Cf. Felder, _o.c._ p. 177 _sqq._ - -[542] From Denifle, _Universitaeten des Mittelalters_, i. 99, note 192. - -[543] See generally, Mandonnet, _Siger de Brabant et l'averroisme latin au -moyen age_ (Fribourg, Switzerland, 1899); Baeumker (_Beitraege_, 1898), -_Die Impossibilia des Siger von Brabant_; De Wulf, _Hist. of Medieval -Philosophy_, 3rd ed., p. 379 _sqq._ (Longmans, 1909). - -[544] Albert was born probably in 1193, and died in 1280; Bacon was born -some twenty years later, and died about 1292. Bonaventura was born in -1221, and Thomas in 1225 or 1227; they both died in 1274. - -[545] So Raphael represents them in his "School of Athens." - -[546] Bonaventura, _Sermo IV._, Quaracchi edition, tome v. p. 572 (cited -by De Wulf, _Hist. etc._ p. 304, note). With all their -Augustinian-Platonism, the Franciscans made a good second to the -Dominicans in the study of Aristotle, as is proved by the great number of -commentaries upon his works by members of the former Order. See Felder, -_o.c._ p. 479. - -[547] _Epist. de tribus quaestionibus_, Sec. 12. - -[548] Tome v. (Quaracchi ed.) pp. 319-325. - -[549] This is from Sec. 26, the last in the work. Bonaventura has already -said (Sec. 7): "Omnes istae cognitiones ad cognitionem Sacrae Scripturae -ordinantur, in ea clauduntur et in illa perficiuntur, et mediante illa ad -aeternam illuminationem ordinantur." ("All kinds of knowledge are ordained -for the knowledge of Holy Scripture, are in it enclosed and thereby are -perfected; and through its mediation are ordered for eternal -illumination.") - -[550] It is contained in tomes i.-iv. of the Quaracchi edition. - -[551] T. v. pp. 201-291. - -[552] _Breviloquium_, Prologus. - -[553] One feels the reality of Bonaventura's distinctions here between -theology and philosophy. They are enunciations of his religious sense, and -possess a stronger validity than any elaborate attempt to distinguish by -argument between the two. Thomas distinguishes them with excellent -reasoning. It lacks convincingness perhaps from the fact that Thomas's -theology is so largely philosophy, as Roger Bacon said. - -[554] As this chapter opens a _pars_, it begins with a recapitulation of -what has preceded and a summary of what is to come. The specific topic of -the chapter commences here. - -[555] _I.e._ the desiderative, rational, and irascible elements in man. - -[556] Bonaventura closely follows Hugo of St. Victor's _De sacramentis_, -see _ante_, Chap. XXVIII., especially p. 72. - -[557] _Opera_, t. v. pp. 295-313. - -[558] _Vir desideriorum_, Dan. ix. 23 (Vulgate). - -[559] The _Breviloquium_ and _Itinerarium_ are conveniently edited by -Hefele in a little volume (Tuebingen, 1861). - -[560] Albertus, _Metaphysicorum libri XIII._, lib. i. tract. 1, cap. 4. - -[561] _Physic._ lib. viii. tract. 1, cap. 14. - -[562] _Poster. Analyt._ lib. i. tract. 1, cap. 1. This and the previous -citation are from Mandonnet's _Siger de Brabant_. - -[563] _Ethic._ lib. vi. tract. 2, cap. 25. - -[564] Carus, _Ges. der Zoologie_, p. 231. - -[565] Ernst Meyer, _Ges. der Botanik_, Bd. iv. p. 77. - -[566] The works of Albertus were edited by the Dominican Jammy in -twenty-one volumes (Lyons, 1651); they are reprinted by Borgnet (Paris, -1890 _et seq._). My references to volumes follow Jammy's edition. - -[567] See _ante_, pp. 314 _sqq._ - -[568] Prantl, _Ges. der Logik_, iii. 89 _sqq._, calls him an "unklarer -Kopf," incapable of consistent thinking. - -[569] This is the view of A. Schneider, _Die Psychologie Alberts des -Grossen_ (Baeumker's _Beitraege_, Muenster, 1903). The author presents -analytically the disparate elements--Aristotelian, Neo-Platonic, and -theological-Augustinian, which are found in Albert's writings. - -[570] See Endriss, _Albertus Magnus als Interpret der Aristotelischen -Metaphysik_ (Munich, 1886). - -[571] The above is mainly drawn from E. Meyer's _Ges. der Botanik_, Bd. -iv. pp. 38-78. - -[572] _Ante_, Volume I. p. 76. - -[573] See Carus, _Geschichte der Zoologie_, pp. 211-239. - -[574] _Sum. theol. pars prima_, tract. I, quaest. ii. - -[575] _Ante_, Chapter XXXV., I. - -[576] Tome xx. p. 41_a_. - -[577] The _Vita_ of Thomas by Guilielmus de Thoco, _Acta sanctorum_, -Martius, tome i. folio 657 _sqq._ (March 7), is wretchedly confused. - -[578] _Vita_, cap. iii. Sec. 15. - -[579] One may see the truth of this by comparing the treatment of a matter -in Albert's _Summa theologiae_ with the corresponding sections in Thomas. -For example, compare Albert's _Summa theol. prima_, Tract. vii. Quaest. -xxx.-xxxiii., on _generatio_, _processio_, _missio_ of the divine persons, -with Thomas, _Sum. theol. prima_, Quaest. xxvii. and xliii. - -[580] John of Damascus, an important Greek theologian of the eighth -century, often cited by Thomas. - -[581] Quaestiones are the larger divisions of the argument. - -[582] _Pars prima_, Qu. xvi. Art. 3. - -[583] _Pars prima_, Qu. lxxxii. Art. 3. - -[584] _Prima sec._ Qu. iv. Art. 2. - -[585] _Prima sec._ Qu. iv. Art. 3. - -[586] _Sum. Phil. contra Gentiles_, iii. 37. - -[587] One cannot avoid applying the masculine pronouns to God, and to the -angels also. But, of course, this is a mere convenience of speech. Thomas -ascribes no sex either to God or the angels. - -[588] It will, of course, be borne in mind, that Thomas's use of _videre_ -and _visio_ to express man's perception of God's essential nature, does -not mean a physical but an intellectual seeing. - -[589] Given _ante_, pp. 290 _sqq._ - -[590] _Secundum quod est in actu_, _i.e._ in realized actuality as -distinguished from potentiality (Aristotelian conceptions). - -[591] The foregoing is taken from the thirteen _articuli_ into which -Quaestio xii. is divided. - -[592] _Pars prima_, Quaestio xxxii. Art. 1. - -[593] _Quaestiones disputatae: De Veritate_, x. 6. Citing Rom. i. 20. - -[594] Prooemium to Qu. xiv. _Pars prima_. - -[595] Qu. xiv. Art. 2--a point which Thomas reasons out in interesting -scholastic Aristotelian fashion, but in language too technical to -translate. - -[596] _Pars prima_, Qu. xiv. Art. 11. - -[597] _Pars prima_, Qu. xv. Art. 1-3. - -[598] _Pars prima_, Qu. xxvi. Art. 2. - -[599] _Pars prima_, Qu. xliv. Art. 3. - -[600] _Pars prima_, Qu. xlv. Art. 1. - -[601] _Summa theol. pars prima_, Qu. l. As heretofore, I follow the -exposition of the _Summa theologiae_. But Thomas began a large and almost -historical treatment of angels in his unfinished _Tract. de substantiis -separatis, seu de Angelorum natura_ (unfinished, in _Opuscula theol._). He -has another and important tractatus, _De cognitione Angelorum, Quaestiones -disput. de veritate_, viii. - -[602] _Pars prima_, Qu. l. Art. 1. Thomas goes on to contradict Aristotle, -in holding _quod nullum ens esset nisi corpus_. - -[603] All that has been given concerning the knowledge of angels relates -to what they know through their own natures as created. Further -enlightenment (as with men) comes through grace as soon as they become -_beati_ through turning to good. _Pars prima_, Qu. lxii. Art. 1 _sqq._ - -[604] _Ante_, Chapter XXXV., 1. - -[605] A burning controversy between the Averroists and the orthodox -schoolmen. - -[606] This is the substance of Qu. lxxxix. Art. 1. - -[607] _Pars prima_, Qu. xix. Art. 1. - -[608] _Pars prima_, Qu. lxxxii. and lxxxiii. - -[609] _Pars prima_, Qu. xx. 1. - -[610] _Summa theol._, _Pars secunda secundae_, Qu. xvii. Art 8. - -[611] _Pars secunda secundae_, Qu. xxiv. Art. 8. - -[612] _Pars secunda secundae_, Qu. xxvi. Art. 4 and 5. - -[613] _Pars prima secundae_, Qu. cix. _sqq._ - -[614] Another reading is _delectatio_, _i.e._ enjoyment. - -[615] Bacon's _Opus majus_ was edited in incomplete form by Jebb in 1733, -and reprinted in 1750 at Venice. This edition is superseded by that of -Bridges, in two volumes, published with the _Moralis philosophia_ and -_Multiplicatio specierum_ by the Clarendon Press in 1897. The text of this -edition had many errors, which have been corrected by a third volume -published in 1900 by Williams and Norgate, who are now the publishers of -the three volumes. In 1859 Brewer edited the _Opus tertium_, the _Opus -minus_, and _Compendium philosophiae_ for the Master of the Rolls Series. - -"An unpublished Fragment of a work by Roger Bacon" was discovered by F. A. -Gasquet in the Vatican Library, and published in the _English Historical -Review_ for July 1897. It appears to be a letter to Clement IV., written -in 1267. - -In 1861 appeared the excellent monograph by Emile Charles, entitled _Roger -Bacon, sa vie, ses ouvrages, ses doctrines_. To this one still must turn -for extracts from the _Compendium theologiae_, and the _Communia -naturalium_. The last-named work, with the _Compendium philosophiae_ and -the _Multiplicatio specierum_ (which appears not to be an intrinsic part -of the _Opus majus_), may have been composed as parts of what was to be -the writer's _Opus principale_. Bacon's _Greek Grammar_ has been edited by -Nolan and Hirsch (Cambridge, 1902). - -[616] _Opus tertium_, chap. xxv. p. 91 (Brewer's text). - -[617] _Opus tertium_, chap. xvii. (pp. 58-59, Brewer's ed.). - -[618] Brewer, _R. Bacon, Opera inedita_, p. 1. - -[619] _Opus tertium_, pp. 7 and 8. - -[620] In _Opus tertium_, chap. iii. (Brewer, p. 15), Bacon plainly tells -the pope the difficulties in which he had been placed by this injunction -of secrecy: "The first cause of delay came through those who are over me. -Since you have written nothing to them in my excuse, and I could not -reveal to them your secret, they insisted with unspeakable violence that I -should obey their will; but I refused, because of the bond of your -mandate, which bound me to your work, notwithstanding any order from my -prelates. And, of a surety, as I was not excused by you, I met with -obstacles too great and many to enumerate.... And another obstacle, enough -to defeat the whole business, was the lack of funds." - -[621] These are, of course, the _Opus majus_, the _Opus minus_, and the -_Opus tertium_; also the _Vatican Fragment_, the position of which is not -quite clear; but it is part of the writings of this year, and constitutes -apparently the introductory letter to Clement. - -[622] The authority for this is the _Chronica XXIV., Generalium Ordinis -Minorum_; see Bridges, vol. iii. p. 158. - -[623] See _Op. tertium_, p. 26 _sqq._ (Brewer). - -[624] _Opus majus_, pars ii. end of chap. v. and beginning of chap. vi. -(Bridges, iii. p. 49); see _Op. tertium_ (Brewer), p. 81. - -[625] _Op. maj._ pars ii. chap. xv. (Bridges, iii. p. 71). - -[626] _Op. tertium_, p. 39. - -[627] _Op. maj._ pars ii. (Bridges, iii. pp. 69-70). Cf. _ante_, p. 180. - -[628] The reference seems to be to the _Ethics_ and _Politics_. - -[629] _Compendium studii_, p. 424 (Brewer). - -[630] _Op. tertium_, p. 14. - -[631] _Op. tertium_, p. 30. - -[632] _Compendium studii phil._, p. 429 (Brewer). - -[633] _Ibid._ p. 398--written in 1271. - -[634] I follow the paging of Bridges, vol. iii. These four causes of error -are also given in _Opus tertium_, p. 69, _Compendium studii_, p. 414 -(Brewer), and the Gasquet _Fragment_, p. 504. - -[635] _Op. maj._ pp. 2 and 3. - -[636] P. 322 _sqq._ (Brewer). - -[637] _Opus tertium_, p. 102. - -[638] _Ante_, p. 128. - -[639] As, _e.g._ where he says that it would have been better for the -Latins "that the wisdom of Aristotle should not have been translated, than -to have been translated with such perverseness and obscurity." _Compend. -studii_, p. 469, (Brewer). - -[640] See _Opus majus_, pars iii. - -[641] _Opus majus_, Bridges, vol. i. p. 106. - -[642] Commonly called "mathematica." - -[643] _Opus majus_ (Bridges, i. p. 253). Bacon goes into this matter -elaborately. - -[644] Cf. S. Vogl, _Die Physik Roger Bacos_ (Erlangen, 1906). Gives -Bacon's sources. - -[645] _Opus minus_, pp. 367-371. - -[646] _Opus majus_, pars v. dist. iii. (Bridges, ii. p. 159 _sqq._). - -[647] A contemporary of Bacon named Witelo composed a _Perspectiva_ about -1270, following an Arab source; and a few years later a Dominican, -Theodoric of Freiburg, was devoted to optics, and wrote on light, colour, -and the rainbow. Baeumker, "Witelo, ein Philosoph und Naturforscher des -XIII. Jahrh." (_Beitraege, etc._, Muenster, 1908); Krebs, "Meister Dietrich, -sein Leben, etc." (Baeumker's _Beitraege_, 1906). - -[648] With Bacon, _experientia_ does not always mean observation; and may -mean either experience or experiment. - -[649] See Charles, _Roger Bacon_, pp. 17-18. - -[650] _Ante_, pp. 313-315. Duns Scotus puts clearly the double aspect of -logic, which Albertus Magnus approached: "It should be understood that -logic is to be considered in two ways. First, in so far as it is _docens_ -(instructs, holds its own school): and from its own necessary and proper -principles proceeds to necessary conclusions, and is therefore a science. -Secondly, in so far as we use it, by applying it to those matters in which -it is used: and then it is not a science" (_Super universalia Porphyrii_, -Quaestrio i., Duns Scotus, _Opera_, t. i. p. 51). - -[651] The two aspects of the experimental science appear in the following -statement from the Gasquet _Fragment_: "The _antepenultima_ science is -called experimental; and is the mistress of those which precede it; for it -excels the others in three chief prerogatives. One is that all the -sciences except this either use arguments alone to prove their -conclusions, like the purely speculative sciences, or possess general and -imperfect experiences. But only the perfect experience (_experientia -perfecta_, _i.e._ the scientific experiment or observation), sets the mind -at rest in the light of truth; which is certain and is proved in that part -[of my work]. Wherefore it was necessary that there should be one science -which should certify for us, all the magnificent truths of the other -sciences, through the truth of experience, and this is that whereof I say -that it is called _scientia experimentalis_ of its own right from the -truth of experience (_per autonomasiam ab experienciae veritate_); and I -show by the illustration of the rainbow and other things, how this -prerogative is reserved to that science. - -"The second prerogative is the dignity which relates to those chief truths -which, although they are to be formulated (_nominandae_) in the terms -(_vocabulis_) of the other sciences, yet the other sciences cannot furnish -(_procurare_) them; and of this character are the prolongation of life -through remedies to counteract the lack of a hygienic regimen from -infancy, or constitutional debility inherited from parents who have not -followed such a regimen. I shall show how it is possible thus to prolong -life to the term set by God. But men, through neglecting the rules of -health, pass quickly to old age, and die before reaching that term. The -art of medicine is not able to furnish (_dare_) these remedies, nor does -it; but it says they are possible (_sed fatetur ea possibilia_), and so -experimental science has devised remedies known to the wisest men alone, -by which the ills of old age are delayed, or are mitigated when they -arrive. - -"The third prerogative of this science belongs to it _secundum se et -absolute_; for here it leaves the two ways already touched on, and -addresses itself to all things which do not concern the other sciences, -save that often it requires the service of the others. As a mistress it -commands the others as servants ... and orders them to do its work, and -furnish the wise instruments which it uses; as navigation directs the art -of carpentry, to make a ship for it; and the military art directs the -forger's art to make it a breastplate and other arms. In like manner, this -science [the experimental], as a mistress, directs geometry to make it a -burning-glass, which shall set on fire things near or far, one of the most -sublime wonders that can come to pass through geometry. So it commands the -other sciences in all the wonderful and hidden things of nature and art" -(pp. 510-511). - -[652] _Opus tertium_, chap. xxviii. - -[653] _Opus majus_, pars vi. 1 (Bridges, ii. p. 169). - -[654] _Ibid._ p. 171. Doubtless the meaning of the above is connected with -Bacon's view of the Aristotelian _intellectus agens_, which he takes to -signify the direct illumination of the mind of man by God. "All the wisdom -of philosophy is revealed by God and given to the philosophers, and it is -Himself that illuminates the minds of men in all wisdom. That which -illuminates our minds is now called by the theologians _intellectus -agens_. But my position is that this _intellectus agens_ is God -_principaliter_, and secondarily, the angels, who illuminate us" (_Opus -tertium_, p. 74; cf. _Op. majus_, pars i. chap. v.). - -[655] _Compendium studii_ (Brewer), p. 397. - -[656] _De secretis operibus artis et naturae, et de nullitate magiae_, p. -533 (Brewer). Cf. Charles, _Roger Bacon_, p. 296 _sqq._ - -[657] The most convenient edition of the works of Joannes Duns Scotus is -that published by Vives, at Paris (1891 _sqq._) in twenty-six volumes. It -is little more than a reprint of Wadding's Edition. - -[658] See Seeberg, _Die Theologie des Johannes Duns Scotus_ (Leipzig, -1900), p. 8 _sqq._, a work to which the following pages owe much. - -[659] Grosseteste's philosophical or theological works are still -unpublished or very difficult of access; and there is no sufficient -exposition of his doctrines. - -[660] Seeberg, _o.c._ p. 16 _sqq._ - -[661] See De Wulf, _History of Medieval Philosophy_, p. 363 _sqq._ - -[662] See Seeberg, _o.c._ p. 34 _sqq._ - -[663] The kernel of Duns's proof is contained in the following passage, -which is rather simple in its Scotian Latin: "Dicendum, quod Universale -est ens, quia sub ratione non entis, nihil intelligitur: quia -intelligibile movet intellectum. Cum enim intellectus sit virtus passiva -(per Aristotelem 3, de Anima, cont. 5 et inde saepe), non operatur, nisi -moveatur ab objecto; non ens non potest movere aliquid ut objectum; quia -movere est entis in actu; ergo nihil intelligitur sub ratione non entis. -Quidquid autem intelligitur, intelligitur sub ratione Universalis: ergo -illa ratio non est omnino non ens" (_Super universalia Porphyrii_, -Quaestio iv.). - -[664] Cf. the far from clear exposition in Seeberg, _o.c._ p. 86 _sqq._ -and 660 _sqq._ - -[665] _Miscell. quaest._ 6, 18, cited by Seeberg, _o.c._ p. 114. - -[666] The last two or three pages have been drawn mainly from Seeberg, -_o.c._ p. 113 _sqq._ In discussing Duns Scotus, I have given less from his -writings than has been my wont with other philosophers. And for two -reasons. The first, as I frankly avow, is that I have read less of him -than I have of his predecessors. With the exception of such a curious -treatise as the (doubtful) Grammatica _speculativa_ (tome i. of the Paris -edition); and the elementary, and comparatively lucid, _De rerum -principio_ (tome iv. of the Paris edition)--with these exceptions Duns is -to me unreadable. My second reason for omitting excerpts from his -writings, is that I wished neither to misrepresent their quality, nor to -cause my reader to lay down my book, which is heavy enough anyhow! If I -selected lucid and simple extracts, they would give no idea of the -intricacy and prolixity of Duns. His commentary on the _Sentences_ fills -thirteen tomes of the Paris edition! No short and simple extract will -illustrate _that_! On the other hand, I could not bring myself by lengthy -or impossible quotations to vilify Duns. It is unjust to expose a man's -worst features, nakedly and alone, to those who do not know his better -side and the conditions which partly explain the rest of him. - -[667] _Quodlibetalia_, i. Qu. 14, cited by De Wulf, _o.c._ p. 422. - -[668] _Expos. aurea_, cited by De Wulf, _o.c._ p. 423, whose exposition of -Occam's theory I have followed here. - -[669] On Occam, see Seeberg's article in Hauck's _Encyclopaedia_; Siebeck, -"Occams Erkenntnislehre, etc.," in _Archiv fuer Ges. der Philosophie_, Bd. -x., Neue Folge (1897). - -[670] Quoted by Seeberg. - -[671] De Wulf, _o.c._ p. 425. - -[672] In view of the enormous literature upon Dante, popular as well as -learned, it would be absurd to give any bibliographical, biographical or -historical information as to his works, himself, or his Italian -circumstances. - -[673] _De mon._ ii. 3. - -[674] _De mon._ ii. chaps. 4, 10, 12. - -[675] _De mon._ iii. 4 _sqq._ - -[676] All this seems supported by _Conv._ i. 1, and ii. 13, the main -explanatory chapters of the work. - -[677] _Conv._ iii. 12. - -[678] e.g. "_benigna volontade_," _Par._ xv. 1. - -[679] Cf. A. d'Ancona, _I Precursori di Dante_ (Florence, 1874); M. Dods, -_Forerunners of Dante_ (Edinburgh, 1903); A. J. Butler, _Forerunners of -Dante_ (Oxford, 1910); Hettinger, _Goettliche Komoedie_, p. 79 (2nd ed., -Freiburg im Breisgau, 1889). Mussafia, "Monumenti antichi di dialetti -italiani," _Sitzungsber. philos. hist. Classe_ (Vienna Academy), vol. 45, -1864, p. 136 _sqq._, gives two old Italian _descriptions_, one of the -heavenly Jerusalem, the other of the infernal Babylon. - -[680] 2 Cor. xii. 2; _Paradiso_, i. 73-75. - -[681] _Ante_, Chapter XIX. - -[682] _Ante_, pp. 98-100. - -[683] The coarseness of _Inf._ xxi. 137-139 is of a piece with the way of -mediaeval art in making demons horrible through a grotesquely indecent -rendering of their persons. - -[684] e.g. _Inf._ xviii. 100 _sqq._; and _Inf._ xxviii. and xxix. - -[685] _Inf._ viii. 37 _sqq._; xxxii. 97 _sqq._; xxxiii. 116 and 149. - -[686] Cf. Moore, _Dante Studies_, vol. ii. pp. 266-267. - -[687] Any one who looks through the first volume of Tiraboschi's great -_Storia della letteratura italiana_, written in the early part of the -nineteenth century, will find a generous acceptance of myth as fact; just -as he would find the same in the _Histoire ancienne_ of the good Rollin, -written a century or more before. - -[688] Dante has frequently been spoken of as the "first scholar" of his -time. I do not myself know enough regarding the scholarship of every -scholar in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries to confirm or deny -this. Personally, I do not regard him as a Titanic scholar, like Albertus -Magnus for example. He studied all the classic Latin authors available. -Doubtless he had a memory corresponding to his other extraordinary powers. -His also was the intellectual point of view, and the intellectual interest -in knowledge and its deductions. His view of life was as intellectual as -that of Aquinas. But as Dante's powers of plastic visualization were -unequalled, so also, it seems to me, were his faculties of using as a poet -what he had acquired as a scholar. Regarding the extent of Dante's use and -reading of the Classics, nothing could be added to Dr. Moore's _Studies in -Dante_, First Series; though I think what Dr. Moore has to say of "Dante -and Aristotle" would have cast a more direct light upon the matter, had he -cited as far as possible from the Latin translation probably used by -Dante, instead of from the original Greek. - -[689] _Inf._ iv. 88. Cf. Moore, _Studies in Dante_, i. p. 6. The -application of the term _satirist_ to Horace is peculiarly mediaeval. - -[690] _Inf._ iv. 131. - -[691] _Inf._ ii. 20. - -[692] _Par._ xx. 68. - -[693] _Purg._ xxv. 22. - -[694] _Inf._ xviii. 83 _sqq._ - -[695] _Inf._ xxvi. 88 _sqq._ - -[696] _Purg._ xii. - -[697] _Purg._ xv. - -[698] According to Dr. Moore, Dante quotes or refers to the "Vulgate more -than 500 times, to Aristotle more than 300, Virgil about 200, Ovid about -100, Cicero and Lucan about 50 each, Statius and Boethius between 30 and -40 each, Horace, Livy, and Orosius between 10 and 20 each,"--and other -scattering references. - -[699] _Inf._ xxxiii. 4; _Aen._ ii. 3. - -[700] _Par._ ii. 16. - -[701] _Aen._ vi. 309; _Inf._ iii. 112. - -[702] _Aen._ vi. 700; _Purg._ ii. 80. - -[703] _Purg._ i. 135; cf. _Aen._ vi. 143 "Primo avulso non deficit alter, -etc." - -[704] See _Inf._ xxxi.; _Purg._ xii. 25 _sqq._ - -[705] _Purg._ vi. 118: "O highest Jove that wast on earth crucified for -us." - -[706] _Par._ i. 13 _sqq._; _Par._ ii. 8. - -[707] The _provenance_, etc., of Dante's classification of sins in the -_Inferno_, like everything else in Dante, has been interminably discussed. -The reference to the _De officiis_ of Cicero is due to Dr. Moore. See -"Classification of Sins in the _Inferno_ and _Purgatorio_," _Studies in -Dante_, 2nd Series. Also cf. Hettinger, _Die goettliche Koemoedie_, pp. -159-162, and notes 6 and 23 on p. 204 and 207 (2nd ed., Freiburg in -Breisgau, 1889). Dante's main statement is in _Inf._ xi. - -[708] In whom does not the awful anguish of the suicides (_Inf._ xiii.) -arouse grief and horror? - -[709] _Inf._ xvi. 59. They are more respectable than the blessed denizens -of the Heaven of Venus, _Par._ ix. - -[710] _Inf._ xix. - -[711] _Inf._ vi. 103 _sqq._ - -[712] The intellectual temperament finds voice in many great expressions, -which are very Dante and also very Thomas, as _Par._ xxviii. 106-114; -xxix. 17; xxx. 40-42. - -[713] _Inf._ iii. 18. - -[714] Hettinger, _o.c._ p. 254. - -[715] _Aeneid_ vi. 327 _sqq._; Hettinger, _o.c._ p. 226. - -[716] See Taylor, _Classical Heritage_, p. 162. - -[717] These are pointed out in the Commentaries (_e.g._ Scartazzini's) and -in many monographs. Hettinger's _Goettliche Koemoedie_ is serviceable: also -Moore's _Studies in Dante_ and Toynbee's _Dante Studies_. - -[718] _Purg._ i. 71; John viii. 36. - -[719] _Purg._ i. 89. - -[720] _Purg._ iii. 34 _sqq._ - -[721] _Purg._ iv. 4 _sqq._ - -[722] _Purg._ v. 105 _sqq._ - -[723] _Purg._ vii. 54; iv. 133-135. - -[724] Cf. _e.g._ _Purg._ xii. 109. - -[725] _Purg._ xv. 40 _sqq._ - -[726] _Purg._ xvi. 64 _sqq._ - -[727] _Purg._ xvii. 85 _sqq._, and xviii.; Hettinger, _o.c._ p. 235 -_sqq._, and pp. 261-264. - -[728] _Purg._ xxiii. 72; xxvi. 14. - -[729] _Purg._ xxv. The notes in Hettinger, _o.c._, are quite full in -citations of passages from Thomas and other scholastics. - -[730] Thomas, _Summa_, iii. Qu. 89, Art. 5. - -[731] As it is rather in _Par._ xxvii. 76 _sqq._ - -[732] _Par._ iii. 52, 64, 89. - -[733] _Par._ iv. - -[734] _Par._ xi. 1 _sqq._ - -[735] _Par._ xiv. - -[736] _Par._ xv. 10. - -[737] _Par._ xix. 40 _sqq._ - -[738] _Par._ xx. - -[739] _Par._ xxiv.-xxvi. - -[740] Typified in St. Bernard, _Par._ xxxi. and following. Suitable -reasons for this choice may be suggested by the extracts from Bernard's -_De deligendo Deo_ and _Sermons on Canticles_, _ante_, Chapter XVII. - -[741] _Conv._ ii. 13. The symbolism inherent in all human mental processes -seems indicated by the argument of Aquinas (_ante_, p. 466) that the mind -knows "the particular through sense and imagination; ... it must turn -itself to images in order to behold the universal nature existing in the -particular." This is a necessity of our half material nature. - -[742] _Convito_ ii. 1. Letter to Can Grande, par. 7. - -[743] In the Can Grande letter, having stated this fourfold significance, -Dante does _not_ proceed to exemplify it in the interpretation which -follows of the opening lines of the _Paradiso_. Possibly those lines did -not admit of the fourfold interpretation; yet, in general, Dante does not -try to carry it out in practice, any more than other mediaeval writers -commonly. - -[744] _Convito_ ii. ch. 14 and 15. - -[745] Doubtless the commentator habit is fixed in the nature of man; but -it was pre-eminently mediaeval. We have seen enough elsewhere of the -multiplication of Commentaries on the _Sentences_ of the Lombard and other -scholastic works. Dante's friend, Guido Cavalcanti, wrote a little poem -beginning _Donna mi priego_, upon which we have eight Commentaries, the -first from Egidio Colonna in 1316. - -[746] Yet, however obvious the meaning, tying the pole of the Chariot to -the Tree of Life was a great stroke (_Purg._ xxxii. 49). - -[747] There is a piece of allegory in the _Paradiso_ which almost gets on -one's nerves, _i.e._ the ceaseless whirling of the blessed spirits, -usually in wheel formations: _e.g._ _Par._ xii. 3; xxi. 81; xxiv. 10 -_sqq._: cf. x. 145; xiii. 20. - -[748] One notes that all the symbolizing personages of the poem--Virgil, -Statius, Matilda, Lia, Beatrice--have literal reality, however subtle or -far-reaching may be the allegorical intendment with which the poet has -invested them. - -[749] See _e.g._ _Par._ xxxi. 67. - -[750] Cf. De Sanctis, _Storia della letteratura italiana_, i. p. 46 _sqq._ - -[751] Compare _Purg._ xxvii. 34 _sqq._; xxx.; xxxi.; _Par._ xviii. 13 -_sqq._; xxiii.; xxx.; xxxi.; xxxii. 8. - - - - -WORKS ON PHILOSOPHY - - -THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS. By EDWARD WESTERMARCK, -Ph.D. Two vols. 8vo. 14s. net each. - -A SHORT HISTORY OF ETHICS. By REGINALD A. P. ROGERS, Fellow and Tutor of -Trinity College, Dublin. Crown 8vo. [_Spring_, 1911. - -THE PHILOSOPHY OF GASSENDI. By G. S. BRETT. 8vo. 10s. net. - -HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. With Especial Reference to the Formation and -Development of its Problems and Conceptions. By Dr. W. WINDELBAND. -Translated by J. H. TUFTS. 8vo. 17s. net. - -HISTORY OF THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. By PAUL JANET and GABRIEL SEAILLES. -Translated by ADA MONAHAN, and Edited by HENRY JONES, LL.D. Two vols. 8vo. -10s. net. each. - -IDOLA THEATRI: A Criticism of Oxford Thought and Thinkers from the -Standpoint of Personal Idealism. By HENRY STURT. 8vo. 10s. net. - -PERSONAL IDEALISM. Philosophical Essays. Edited by HENRY STURT. 8vo. 10s. -net. - -HUMANISM. Philosophical Essays. By F. C. S. SCHILLER, M.A., D.Sc. 8vo. 8s. -6d. net. - -STUDIES IN HUMANISM. By F. C. S. SCHILLER, M.A., D.Sc. 8vo. 10s. net. - -PHILOSOPHICAL REMAINS OF R. L. NETTLESHIP. Edited, with Biographical -Sketch, by Prof. A. C. BRADLEY. Second Edition. Extra Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. -net. - -LECTURES ON THE REPUBLIC OF PLATO. By R. L. NETTLESHIP. Edited by G. R. -BENSON. Extra Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. net. - -A HANDBOOK OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY. By Rev. HENRY CALDERWOOD, LL.D. Third -Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. - - -MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON. - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - -Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. - -Passages in bold are indicated by =bold=. - -Superscripted characters are indicated by {superscript}. - -The original text includes Greek characters that have been replaced with -transliterations in this text version. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mediaeval Mind (Volume II of II), by -Henry Osborn Taylor - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEDIAEVAL MIND (VOLUME II) *** - -***** This file should be named 43881.txt or 43881.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/8/8/43881/ - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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