To give an idea of the spirit that guided these men, and of the opinion we are to form of their intentions, we must enter into some details touching their lives and their doctrines. Roscelin was one of the most crafty men of his time. A subtle dialectician and warm partizan of the sect of the Nominalists, he substituted his own opinions for the teaching of the Church; and ended by falling into the gravest errors on the sacred mystery of the Trinity. History has recorded a fact, that proves incontestably the notorious dishonesty of the man—his want of probity and of modesty. At the time that Roscelin was propagating his errors, St. Anselm, who was afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, was living, but at that time abbot of Beck. Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, who died some time before, had left behind him the highest reputation for virtue and sound doctrine. Roscelin thought that the authority of so high a name would give currency and consideration to his errors; and, resorting to the foulest calumny, he affirmed that his opinions were the same as those of Archbishop Lanfranc, and Anselm, abbot of Beck. To this calumny Lanfranc could not reply, as he was already in the tomb; but the abbot of Beck vigorously repelled so unjust an imputation; and at the same time vindicated the reputation of Lanfranc, who had been his master. The works of St. Anselm leave no doubt as to the nature of Roscelin's errors. We find them recorded with the greatest precision. In fact, it were difficult to say why M. Guizot has conferred so much importance upon this man, or why he should be adduced as one of the principal champions of the freedom of thought. There is nothing in Roscelin to distinguish him from other heretics. He is a man who employs artifices and subtleties, and falls into error; but nothing is more common in the history of the Church; and it certainly cannot be considered matter of astonishment.

Abelard is more deserving of notice: his name has become so famous that no one is unacquainted with his sad adventures. A disciple of Roscelin, and as well skilled as his master in the dialectics of the age, endowed with great talents, and eager to parade them on the principal theatres of literature, Abelard earned a reputation never attained by the dialectician of Compiègne. His errors on points of very great importance produced much mischief in the Church, and drew upon himself many sorrows. But it is not true, as M. Guizot will have it, that his doctrines met with less reproof than his method; neither is it true that he and his master Roscelin had no intention of effecting a radical change in matters of doctrine. Evidence of a most unexceptionable kind fortunately places the matter beyond all doubt, and proves that it was not Roscelin's method, but his error on the Trinity, for which he was condemned. Nor have we less certainty in the case of Abelard; for the various errors taken from his works are preserved in the form of articles.

We learn from St. Bernard, that on the Trinity, Abelard held the opinions of Arius—on the Incarnation, those of Nestorius—on grace, those of Pelagius. All this did not merely tend to a radical change of doctrine, but actually was one. I do not know that Abelard ever protested against the truth of these accusations; and even if he had, we all know how to estimate such a protest. It is certain that, in the famous Assembly of Sens—convoked at the request of Abelard himself—he had not a word to say in reply to the sainted abbot of Clairvaux, who reproached him with his errors; and laying before him the very words of his propositions, extracted from his writings, urged him either to defend or abjure them. Abelard, confronted with so formidable an adversary, was so embarrassed that he could only say, in reply, that he appealed to Rome. The Council of Sens, out of respect for the Holy See, abstained from condemning the person of the innovator, but did not fail to condemn his errors; and this condemnation was approved by the Sovereign Pontiff, and extended to his person also. Now, from the articles containing the errors of Abelard, it does not appear that his dominant idea was to proclaim the liberty of thought. He has, it is true, an overweening confidence in his own subtleties; but, beyond this, his only fault is an erroneous and dogmatizing spirit on points of the greatest importance; a fault which he had in common with all the heretics who preceded him.

All this M. Guizot ought to have known; how he can have overlooked it I cannot imagine, nor why he attaches to these authors an importance which they really do not deserve. Perhaps he was anxious to furnish Protestants with some illustrious predecessors, when he laid such stress on the names of Roscelin and Abelard. These two, after all, were not deficient in ability or in erudition, and they lived precisely during the early period of the intellectual movement. Probably M. Guizot thought, that to bring these two innovators upon the scene would answer his purpose extremely well, as showing that, from the very dawn of intellectual development, men of the greatest fame had raised their voices in favor of freedom of thought. After all, had M. Guizot succeeded in proving that John Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard aimed at nothing more than the assertion of the right of private examination in matters of faith, it would not follow that these innovators had not sought to effect a radical change in matters of doctrine. In fact, what can be more radical as regards matters of faith than that which strikes at authority, the root of all certainty? Neither would it follow, that in condemning the errors of these men the Church had taken alarm merely at their method; for if this method was to consist in withdrawing the intellect from the yoke of authority, even in matters of faith, it was itself a very grievous error, combated at all times by the Catholic Church, which never would consent to have her authority called in question on points of faith.

And yet, if these innovators had entered into the contest chiefly for the purpose of contending against authority in matters of faith, M. Guizot would have had some reason to notice their proceedings as constituting a new era; but, strange to say, their propositions do not appear to have been drawn up with a view to advocate the independence of thought, nor against authority in matters of faith; it was not for such an attempt, but for other errors, that the Church condemned them. Where, then, are the accuracy and historical truth which we should expect from such a man as M. Guizot? How could he venture, in addressing a numerous audience, thus to substitute his own thoughts for facts? The fact is, he well knew that these were matters generally treated very superficially; that to gain the sympathy of superficial men it would suffice to speak in pompous terms of the liberty of thought, to pronounce certain names probably heard by many for the first time, such as Erigena and Roscelin, and especially to mention the unfortunate lover of Heloïse.

M. Guizot, unable to conceal from himself that his observations upon this period were somewhat feeble, tries to apply a remedy by inserting a passage from the Introduction to the Theology of Abelard, which, in my opinion, is very far from answering the purpose of the publicist. His object, in fact, is to show that from that very period a vigorous spirit of resistance to the authority of the Church in matters of faith had sprung up, and that the human mind was even then longing to burst asunder the fetters in which it had been held. He would have us believe that Abelard, yielding to the importunities of his own disciples, had the courage to throw off the yoke of authority; and that his writings were, to a certain extent, the expression of a necessity long felt, of an idea with which many minds had long been agitated. The following is the passage referred to: "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."

We have already seen how utterly devoid of truth is this assertion of the publicist. The very attack upon authority was itself a radical change in opinions, and a revolution in received doctrines; for the authority of the Church was in itself a dogma, and formed the basis of all religious belief, as experience has satisfactorily shown, since the appearance of Protestantism at the commencement of the sixteenth century. But let us allow the historian to proceed: "The disciples of Abelard, as he himself tells us in his Introduction to Theology, required of him philosophical arguments, and such as would satisfy reason, requesting him to teach them not merely to repeat his instructions, but to understand them also; for no one can believe what he does not understand, and it is ridiculous to preach to others things that neither the teacher nor his pupils understand. 'What object can the study of philosophy have but that of leading the mind to the contemplation of God, to whom all things are to be referred? Why are the faithful allowed to read works treating of worldly affairs and the books of the Gentiles, except to prepare them to understand the sacred Scriptures, and to furnish them with the skill necessary for their defence?... For this purpose alone we should avail ourselves of all our reasoning powers, lest, on questions so difficult and complicated as those that form the object of Christian faith, the subtilty of our opponents should too readily injure the purity of our faith.'"

It cannot be denied, that in Abelard's time a lively curiosity aroused men's minds to employ all their powers to be able to give a reason for what they believed; but it is not true that the Church threw any obstacle in the way of this movement, considering it as a scientific method, and so long as it did not overstep legitimate bounds, and attack or undermine the articles of faith. It is impossible to take a more unfavorable view of the Church than M. Guizot has here taken of her; nor could any one more completely overlook, I will even say distort, facts.

"The importance of this first attempt at liberty," says he, "of this revival of the spirit of inquiry, was soon felt. The Church, though engaged in effecting her own reform, took the alarm nevertheless, and at once declared war against the reformers, whose new methods menaced her with more evils than their doctrines."

Thus is the Church represented as conspiring against the progress of thought, repressing with a strong arm the first attempts of the mind to advance in the path of science, and laying aside questions of doctrine to contend against methods; and all this, we are told, as if it were something new and wonderful. "For," says M. Guizot, "this was the great event which occurred at the end of the eleventh and beginning of the twelfth centuries, at a time when the Church was under theocratic and monastic influence. It was now that, for the first time, a serious struggle commenced between the clergy and the freethinkers. The quarrels of Abelard and St. Bernard, the Councils of Soissons and Sens, in which Abelard was condemned, merely give expression to this event, which has occupied so large a space in the history of modern civilization."