But this human reason, at once so powerful and so feeble, sometimes becomes puffed up with arrogance and pride, and in the name of liberty and independence claims a right to blaspheme the Almighty, to deny man's free will, the immortality and spirituality of his soul, her sublime origin and her heavenly destiny. At such a time we avow, and we glory in the avowal, the Church does raise her voice, not to oppress or tyrannize over the human mind, but to defend the rights of the Supreme Being and the dignity of human nature; then, indeed, we behold her opposing, with unyielding firmness, that senseless liberty which consists in the fatal right of uttering all sorts of extravagances. This liberty Catholics neither possess nor desire, knowing that in these matters, as in others, there is a sacred line of demarcation between liberty and licentiousness. Happy slavery, that keeps us from atheism, materialism, and from doubting whether our souls come from God, whether they tend towards Him, and whether there exists for unhappy mortals, after the sufferings that weigh upon them in this life, a life of eternal happiness purchased by the merits of a God-man! As for the sciences which have society for their object, I think I need not vindicate the Catholic religion from the reproach of having in this respect oppressed the human mind. The long train of reflections in which I have set forth her doctrines and her influence, as regards the nature and extent of power, and the civil and political liberty of nations, proves to a demonstration that the Catholic religion, without descending to the arena in which the passions of men strive and contend, teaches a doctrine most favorable to true civilization and to the rightly-understood liberties of the people.
I will also touch briefly upon the relations of the Catholic principle with the study of the natural sciences. Assuredly it is not easy to see in what way this principle can be injurious to the progress of the human mind in this department of knowledge. I have said, it is not easy; I might have said impossible, and that for a very simple reason, founded upon a fact within the reach of every man; viz. the extreme reserve which the Catholic religion evinces in every thing relating to purely natural science. One might suppose that God had designed, on this matter, to read us a severe lesson on our excessive curiosity: you have only to read the Bible to be convinced of the truth of what I have advanced. I do not mean that nature is never noticed in the Bible; that divine book presents her to us in her grandest, noblest, and most sublime aspect; as a living whole, in fact, together with all her relations and her sublime destiny, but without any kind of analysis or decomposition. In these sacred pages the painter's pencil and the poet's fancy will meet with magnificent models; but the inquisitive philosopher will look in vain for the hints he is in quest of. The Holy Spirit did not aim at making naturalists, but virtuous men; hence, in describing the creation, He represents it solely in a light the best adapted to excite in us feelings of admiration and gratitude towards the Author of so many wonders and benefits. Nature, as she appears in the sacred text, has not much to gratify the curiosity of the philosopher; but then she delights and ennobles the imagination—she moves and penetrates the heart.
[CHAPTER LXX.]
HISTORICAL ANALYSIS OF INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT.
From the rapid view we have taken of the several branches of learning in their relations to the authority of the Church, it is clear to a demonstration, that the alleged enslavement of the intellect amongst Catholics is nothing but a mere bugbear: in no respect does our faith either arrest or retard the progress of learning. Since, however, it not unfrequently happens that, in arguments apparently the most solid, a flaw is discovered when they are brought to the test of facts, it will be well to corroborate our assertion by historical testimony; fully assured as we are, that the result must be favorable to the cause of truth. We will begin at the beginning.
M. Guizot maintains that the contest between the Church and the advocates of the freedom of thought originated in the middle ages. Noticing the efforts of John Erigena, Roscelin, Abelard, and the alarm they excited in the Church, he observes: "This was the great event that occurred at the end of the eleventh, and at the beginning of the twelfth centuries, at a time when the Church was under theocratic and monastic influence. It was then that, for the first time, a serious struggle was commenced between the clergy and the freethinkers." (Hist. Générale de la Civilisation en Europe. Leçon 6.) The entire scope of M. Guizot's work shows that, in his judgment, the best-founded reproach that could be cast upon the Catholic Church was, that she checked the freedom of thought. According to him, this is the point upon which the advantage of the Protestant system over Catholicity is the least controvertible. His object being the complete development of this idea, in treating of the religious revolution of the sixteenth century it was requisite for him to deposit it as a seed in his preliminary lectures; as otherwise the fact of the Reformation would have appeared isolated, and shorn of its importance. Besides, it was necessary that the resistance of Protestants to the Catholic Church should have a meaning; that it should carry with it the appearance of a noble and generous thought; that it should be regarded as the proclamation of the freedom of the human mind. To attain this end, the Church, on the one hand, must be represented as asserting claims in the middle ages to which she had not previously pretended; and, on the other, those writers who resisted these alleged pretensions of the Church must be held up as men of extraordinary penetration.
Now, such is precisely the thread of M. Guizot's discourse; and we hence infer his efforts to prepare beforehand the triumph of his opinions. His plan, however, is ill-concerted; for he appears to have overlooked the most palpable facts in the history of the Church; and not even to have known what were the doctrines of the three champions, whose names he invokes with so much complacency. That no one may accuse me of making inconsiderate assertions, I will here quote his words literally: "Thus every thing," says he, "seemed turning to the advantage of the Church, of her unity, and of her power. But whilst the Papacy was grasping at the government of the world, whilst the monasteries were undergoing a moral reformation, a few powerful but isolated individuals claimed for human reason the right of being something in man, the right to interfere in the formation of his opinions. Most of them refrained from attacking received opinions, or religious belief; they merely said that reason had a right to prove them; and that it was not enough that they were affirmed by authority. John Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard were the interpreters, through whom individual reason began to lay claim to her inheritance—the first authors of that movement of liberty, which was associated with the reform movement of Hildebrand and St. Bernard. If we seek the dominant feature of this movement, we shall find that it was not a change of opinion, a revolt against the system of public belief; it was simply the right of reasoning claimed for reason." (Hist. Générale de la Civilisation en Europe. Leçon 6.)
We will pass over the author's singular parallel between the efforts of John Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard, and those of the great reformers, Hildebrand or St. Gregory VII., and St. Bernard. These latter sought to reform the Church by legitimate means, to render the clergy more venerable by making them more virtuous, and to win greater respect for authority by sanctifying the persons entrusted with its exercise: the others, according to M. Guizot, resisted this authority in matters of faith; that is, they aimed at its overthrow, and for this purpose laid the axe to the root; the former were reformers, the latter devastators: and yet we are told that their efforts were directed to one and the same object, had one and the same tendency. Verily, the philosophy of history were a sorry thing, if it could allow of such a confusion of ideas! What progress can be made in this branch of knowledge, by men who have so strange a way of dealing with facts? But, I repeat, let us take leave of these aberrations, and fix our attention specially on two points: the worth of these three writers, so much vaunted, and the idea we are told to entertain of their resistance to authority. Doubtless the names of John Erigena and Roscelin are already pronounced with respect by those persons who would fain be thought well versed in the philosophy of history, without having ever read history, and who are obliged to content themselves with those easy lessons that are learned in an hour, and studied in an evening. With persons of this description, it is enough to have heard these names pronounced with emphasis, to have seen them coupled with epithets, such as powerful men, advocates of human reason, interpreters of individual reason, to make them fancy that learning is no less indebted to Erigena and Roscelin than to Descartes or Bacon.
Without bearing in mind the remarks I have already made on the peculiarity of M. Guizot's position, it would not be easy to conjecture why he should seek to represent as new and extraordinary, what was, in fact, neither new nor uncommon; how he could say that the Church first began the contest against liberty of thought, when she put down Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard. He brings forward these three writers, as though their influence had been paramount; whereas they had no more influence than other sectarians, who abounded in preceding centuries. Who and what really was this John Erigena? A writer but imperfectly versed in theological science; but who, puffed up by the favor shown him by Charles the Bold, broached certain errors on the subject of the Eucharist, predestination and grace. In all that, I see only a man departing from the doctrine of the Church; and in Nicholas the First attempting to stop him in his career, I see only a Pope fulfilling his duty. What is there in all this either new or extraordinary? Does not the whole history of the Church, from the time of the Apostles, exhibit an unbroken succession of similar facts?
I repeat, it is impossible to conceive for what purpose the name of Erigena is brought forward. His errors produced no result of importance; and the age in which he lived cannot be considered as having exercised any great influence on the intellectual development of subsequent times. He lived in the ninth century. Now, this century had no share in the movement of those that followed; indeed, it is well known that the tenth century was the darkest period of ignorance during the middle ages; and that the intellectual movement commenced only at the close of the tenth, and at the opening of the eleventh century. Erigena and Roscelin are separated by two centuries. As for Roscelin and Abelard, it is easier to understand why their names are cited. Every one knows the noise that Abelard made in the world by his doctrines, and perhaps still more by his adventures. Roscelin may also command attention by his errors, and especially as the master of Abelard.