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LOTHIAN PRIZE ESSAY?
1873 "
BY
THOMAS IEALEIGH,
EXHIBITIONER OF BALLIOL ‘GOLIQEGE, OXFORD.


‘ OXFORD:
mos. SHRIMPTON & SON, BROAD STREET.
1873. ~
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THE
LOTHIAN PRIZE ESSAY,
1873.
/ BY
54» THOMAS {{ALEIGH,
EXHIBITIONER OF BALLIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD.
“ Egregia litterarum civitas.”
POPE ALEXANDER IV.
OXFORD:
THOS. SHRIMPTON & SON, BROAD STREET.
1873.
‘1‘
Lin. .
Maw»
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4i as H]
év.
THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS.
___+__
THE history of the University of Paris begins with the intel-
lectual revival of the eleventh century. To enter into any
detailed account of the foundations of Charles the Great or the
school of Remigius would be to mistake entirely the nature of our
{/FZ " c." .I
. task. We are not concerned with the traditions of a corporation;
- we are to examine the development and the history of an institution
which represented every phase of thought and every department
of study, whose members Were bound by no merely personal
devotion, but by the permanent associations gathered round the
chosen home of science and philosophy. No king or teacher,
however great, can make a University. Concourse of students,
keen interest and competition in every kind Of learning, respect
for the wisdom of the past and hope of some better wisdom yet to
be attained—all these are necessary to its very existence. To
describe the elements out of which such a society could be formed
is extremely difficult ; to understand the circumstances of its
growth is impossible without a somewhat lengthened review of the
course of history. Such review we may not here, attempt, beyond
a brief and summary recapitulation of facts which seem to illustrate
the position of the Fathers of Scholasticism.
The Roman culture of the - great towns of Gaul was taken up
almost without a break by the Christian bishops of the fourth
century. When the connection with the metropolis of empire was
broken, the schools of the rhez‘ores were deserted, and the dignity
of the clarissimz' became almost an empty name. Cities found their
best defence in the courage and dignity of the saints of the Church ;
and the barbarians, who might have despised the learning and the
legal skill of the degenerate “ Romani,” were compelled to respect
these gifts when they found them united with the high morality
and enthusiasm of Christianity. The Church was not yet strong
enough to realise the dreams of those sovereigns who thought of
restoring the Empire ; but Theodoric found in Sidonius a friend to
whom he could entrust the training of his children; Alaric was
persuaded to adopt the laws of Theodosius; and Gondebald listened
with appreciation to the theological subtleties of the Bishop Avitus.
But the tendency of events was against all real enlightenment.
The Church laid aside her missionary character, and became an
established institution of the country; but she possessed no great
4
animating purpose strong enough to prevail amid the terrors and
troubles of a distracted time. The writings of Salvian are pervaded
by a melancholy as profound as that- of Rutilius, the poet of a,
dying paganism. The vengeance of God, long impending over
the corrupt and ruined empire, must complete itself at last, and
with the fifth century of Christianity the world would come to an
end. The end of the world—Of their world—came with the Franks.
The Bishops saw in Clovis the divinely appointed scourge of heresy
and wickedness; they viewed the accomplishment of their own
prayers with a desperate resignation. The Arianism and the
culture of the Burgundians were extinguished together; and the
century during which the new nationality bound France together
in a union strong enough to withstand the coming onset of the
Saracens, has been rightly called the “ century of ignorance.”
If the secular clergy had been left to fight their battle alone, the
darkness would have been even deeper than it was. They lived
among the people, and their thoughts and aspirations were degraded
by the superstitious ignorance of their flocks. But there was a
special agency at work, strong enough to prevail against the
triumph of lawless violence; in the monastery piety and learning
found a retreat which the tumult of continual war was seldom able
to disturb. N O institution of that age can compare in social use-
fulness with the great Benedictine* Houses. The rude munifi-
cence of barbarous chiefs seems almost sanctified by the services of
the communities they enriched. Each monastery had its school,
where the novices sat in decorous silence over their books, reminded
by the great crucifix over the master’s chair of the high importance
of their studies. The monkish copyist preserved with pious care
the letters and sermons of the great men of his order; a happy
liberality allowed him to employ his pen on classical as well as on
sacred writers ; and an observant brother might have time to write
a faithful record of his experience, little dreaming, perhaps, that
his simple chronicle would be more prized by posterity than all
the controversial rhetoric of his superiors. The ornamental arts
were not forgotten; the music, pictures, and images of mon-
astery chapels preserved and fostered excellence in that kind.
Beyond the abbey walls there were great breadths of land, where
the serfs were taught, under the directions of the monks, to clear
the forest and to drain the morass. The experience of one who
had governed a religious house gave him a better title to power
than most of the feudal chiefs could boast; and in virtue of this
title, abbots and priors came to rank among the greater magistrates
of the land. If any brother was too daring and fervent to be
content with this ordinary round of duties, he might go forth to
attack heathenism in its stronghold, to seek the glory of apostle-
* “ The word fBenedictine ’ may be used generally in speaking of this period. The
rule of St. Benedlct was universally adopted, and all monasteries may be regarded as
one great order.”-Mabillon. Ann. 0rd. St. 19012., viii. 17. -
5
ship—perhaps of martyrdom—far in the German forest. This
surely was a life which promised much to the aspirations of him
who chose it, and did, in the most wonderful way, fulfil its promise.
The darker side of monastic life is only too familiar—its tempta~
tions to sloth, sensuality, unscrupulous avarice and arrogance.
But the brighter side can never be forgotten.
An activity so various could only be maintained by attracting
and adopting talent from every quarter. In this respect the
Monastery is the forerunner of the University. Princes assumed
the cowl when their work proved beyond their strength, and serfs
were freed from their bonds that they might submit themselves to
the self-imposed rule of the monk?“ In this concourse of would-be
recluses we perceive the origin of monastic corruption. The
institution extended itself far beyond the needs of society; the
fatal mistake by which a corporate rule was supposed to take the
place of individual conscience became ever more common; until the
fame of their origin was utterly obscured, and the names of the
brotherhoods were made bywords of reproach.
' Clovis founded eight monasteries ; Brunehaut, though she per-
secuted Columbanus, gave benefactions to her favourite houses;
and thus, while the seculars were forgetting the elements of Latin,
and the prelates assuming the likeness of feudal chiefs, the order
continued to flourish, depending for its success on its ability to
produce a constant series of men of talent and character. Charles
the Hammer, alienated by the dishonour of his birth from the
ecclesiastical traditions of his house, postponed the interests of the
Church to those of his captains, and had to suffer anathema in due
course-t But his shortcomings in devotion were more than repaired
by his son. "It was evident that any attempt to unite France
under one head must be made in alliance with an institution which
preserved, in its catholic unity, the great tradition of the old
Empire; it was also evident that the Church, if it was to be the
fit ally of a really great monarchy, must be thoroughly reformed.
The schools of F ulda and Mainz, the “ nine new Bishoprics ” of St.
Boniface, were so many outposts of the advancing Empire. The
old feudal Council of the Champ de Mars gradually gave place to
a Council of Bishops, debating in Latin, and versed in ecclesiastical
law. There was certainly a radical weakness in this method of
government; but it was admirably adapted to extend and encourage
mental cultivation. The century of the Bishops is not the least
pleasing chapter in the history of France.
Charles the Great was enthusiastic in the cause of learning ; his
Italian campaign gave him some experience of a society more
cultivated than could be found in France ; perhaps even the sight
of the monuments of antiquity may have stimulated his literary
4* “ This practice had to be restricted, owing to the not unnatural complaints of the
seigneurs.”—-Mabillon, ix. 32.
1" Yet he had his share in the great missionary enterprise of St. Boniface.
6
zeal. He brought teachers of grammar and music with him from
Rome; and in all the great towns of his empire he established or
revivedseminaries where these studies, together with the reading
of the Scriptures, were made the groundwork of education. Many
of these schools had existed for some time, generally in dependence
on a Cathedral Church; but Charles made them more extensively
useful than they had been by opening them to all, laymen and
clerks alike, and by introducing a more complete and intelligent
course of study. Peter of Pisa the grammarian, and Paul
Warnefried the Lombard historian, were entertained with honour
at the court of Aix; and the monk Theodulf was invited to accom-
pany the Emperor along with a considerable band of his scholars.
Such was probably the origin of the Palace School, in which young
scholars were maintained with their teachers, at the Emperor’s
expense. The alleged connection of this establishment with the
University of Paris is, of course, a fiction ; but a school in which
the Emperor himself was a pupil, in which the highest Church-
men were proud to teach, may stand on its own reputation. Its
greatest representative during the time of Charles the Great, is
Alcuin, a Saxon monk, disciple of the famous Egbert of York, a
man learned according to the standard of his time, and animated
by a sincere love of culture. He thought learning a good instru-
ment in the manufacture of priests, and came to look with dis-
approval even on the limited course of classical reading which he
had allow ed to himself. The writings of Alcuin and his school
are deformed by an austere pedantry; erudite imitations and con-
ceits are the best they can produce. The nicknames which they
culled from books and bestowed on each other anticipate the
absurdities of the Italian Academies. Charles was David ; Alcuin
was Albimas Flaccus ; Angilbert, who had written verses, was
Homer. They had hardly any philosophy, and their scientific
knowledge comprised little more than the elements of astronomy.
Charles himself was very meagrely instructed; and the teachers
whom he patronized gave no enduring impulse to learning; in a
few generations many of the great schools sank again into
insignificance.
The reforms of Charles were continued in a spirit of monastic
severity by his son. But the well-meant efforts of Lewis the Pious
produced little effect on the body of the clergy. Where the
reverence and the alms of the people were so easily maintained, the
priests could make no great advance. Still, in spite of wars
and disturbances, the state of culture began to improve; and
the reign of Charles the Bald is marked by important intellectual
movements. Under that monarch, the Palace School rose again
into importance under the presidency of John Scotus Erigena, the
most learned and original teacher who had yet appeared in France.
His acquirements have probably been exaggerated by his biograph-
ers, and his theological speculations lead only to a crude rational-
7
ism and an equally crude mysticism. But he was the first to state
with due impressiveness the problems which agitated the minds of
all thinkers during the following centuries. His fervent and
unsparing dialectic was not always expressed in respectful terms;
and the orthodox bishops found in the Master of the Palace Schools
an ally who was apt to be dangerous to his own side. At the great
Councils, held almost every year during the ascendancy of Hincmar,
the mystical heresies of Gottschalk regarding the doctrine of
predestination were frequently discussed. The orthodox argu-
ments of John Scotus were powerful; but he discarded entirely the
received method of interpretation, and treated the Scriptures
critically and logically. He was therefore suspected of undue
reliance on his own wisdom, and many viewed with satisfaction the
transference of the school to a less daring successor, the monk
Manno.*
The glory of the Palace School was equalled, if not excelled, in
that age by that of several other seminaries. Under the guidance
of Rabanus, surnamed by the partiality of Alcuin “ Maurus,” the
Abbey school of Fulda came to be known as the “light of the
West.” The great Archbishop Hincmar was not only a statesman
and a Churchman, but a theologian and a man of learning ; and
by his encouragement, the Cathedral school of Rheims became both
famous and useful in a high degree. The Abbot Lupus of Fer-
riéres, a scholar of Rabanus, was one of the most cultivated men of
the time; and to his fluent and graceful Latin we owe much of
our knowledge of the literary events and circumstances of the
ninth century. We are not surprised at the comparatively mean
attainments of the greatest teachers, when we find that this learned
abbot was dragged from his seclusion to take part in some military
enterprise, and that he had to make special application to the Pope
for certain works of Cicero and Quintilian. He only ventured to
ask a loan; for books were too valuable to be given away, except on
very great occasions. In the matter of books, as in other respects,
France was much benefited by intercourse with Home and with
Italy generally. The Italian cities had never allowed the lamp of
learning to go out altogether, and their political and social circum-
stances were more favourable to enlightenment than those of the
cities of France.
When we consider the state of society during the tenth century,
it seems wonderful that any knowledge or enterprise should have
survived. The contest of nationalities which broke up the empire
was succeeded by contests on a smaller scale, but not less disastrous
' in their social effects, which reduced France to a loose federation
* The notion that the Palace School was at this time located at Paris, rests entirely
on an interpolation in a letter of Nicholas I., a fraud probably due to some friend of the
University of Paris, though Crévier judiciously attributes it to the Oxford copyist.
Bulaeus, i. 184; Crévier, i. 49.) For doubts as to John Scotus’ life, previously and
subsequently to his Mastership of the “ Schola Palatina,” see Bulaeus, Brucker,
Ueberweg. '
8
of feudal provinces, each governed by irresponsible baronial jurisé'
diction, by the fiction of ecclesiastical law, by privilege maintained
at the point of the sword. The mass of men were in a state of
serfdom to masters who were unwilling to free them and unable to
help them. Plague and famine swept once and again over the
country, until every form of horror was familiar to the eyes of
men. There seemed to be no living purpose in any man or class ;
even war had come to an end, and, at the command of the Church,
all feuds were buried in a despairing peace. The Church itself was
weakened by the ignorance, corrupted by the immorality and
simony of her ministers; those of her priests who remained faith-
ful were driven into a wild and futile asceticism; the appointed
preachers of the Gospel were so demoralized and distracted that
they hardly knew right from wrong. The multitude of meri of all
ranks, who thronged into the shelter of the sanctuary till there was
not room to receive them, neither obtained nor expected any real
help in their misery. Once more the wisest of men looked for the
end of the world.
The renascence of the eleventh century proved that it was to the
pressure of extreme calamity, and not to the exhaustion of man-
kind, that these terrible signs of the time were to be attributed.
The new institutions of government, the rise of civic liberty,
the universal spirit of hopeful enterprise, indicate the resources of
the people ; while the great ecclesiastical reforms, the ardent
desire of knowledge, and the imperial policy of Rome, manifested
that the Church was capable of even greater things than she
had yet accomplished. The Council of Rheims in 991 had
denounced the ignorance and luxury of the Popes; but a new
order of things was brought in not many years after by the
universal Gerbert, a man who stands before all others as the type
of his time. His ardent desire for knowledge had impelled him to
leave the cloister of Aurillac, to visit in turn all the best schools of
France,* and finally to travel into Spain, where he laid aside
his sacred habit, and attached himself to a master skilled in the
mystic lore of the East. His enemies asserted that he had gained
the love of his master’s daughter in order to obtain for himself
powers greater than man might lawfully possess; and that the
devil, pleased with the aptitude of his pupil, had delivered him
from the vengeance of the Old sorcerer, and restored him to be the
emissary of evil in France. There may have been some not very
holy influences at work in the speedy promotion of this learned
monk; but no further foundation need be allowed for the gloomy
fables regarding him. The schools of France, particularly that of
Rheims, where he was Archbishop, flourished under his patron-
age; and the House of Capet, which he brought into permanent
alliance with the Sec of Rome, found no reason to doubt the safety
* It is said that he studied in the Cathedral Schools of Sens, Fleury, and Paris.
9
of his counsels. The bent of his mind was towards mathematics
and the mechanical sciences ; but he has written also on theology
and philosophy ; and his letters display considerable literary taste
and study. - ' '
The alliance founded by Hugues Capet and Gerbert (Sylvester
II.) was not altogether to the advantage of France. The king
became the “ eldest sonof the Church ;” he was allowed to exercise
the right which the Emperor Henry was excommunicated for
claimingfi" The bishops supplied the greater number of the
cardinals, and were ready to support the jurisdiction of Rome
on all occasions. They did not possess the critical acumen of the
Greek scholars, who laughed at the clumsy fictions of the Decretals
and the Liber Pontificalis. Nor did they discover, in the disreput-
able courses which had ended in the open sale of the Popedom by
Benedict IX., reasons for doubting any policy which tended to
make Rome the absolute mistress of the Church. France looked
on quietly, while Germany took up the work which no single
country could accomplish. The life of Gregory VII. closed with
the bitterness of a great defeat ; but he had attained all‘the ends of
his endeavour, He had established his supremacy in the Church
by well-directed efforts towards the reform of the clergy, especially
of the great orders; the aid of the German nobles and of the
Saxon power had enabled him at the Diet of Worms to maintain
his position among temporal sovereigns; and his judicious use
of the Norman soldiery, and of the growing enthusiasm of the
Crusades, indicated to all future Popes the appropriate instruments
of their rule. -
‘ The people of France had had but little share in these great
events; but they were now to take the lead of Europe, to expend
in a series of brilliant achievements the strength gathered during
a comparatively peaceful and prosperous century. They were
as yet hardly to be counted as a nation ; royalty, which was in that
age the representative of nationality, was slowly developing the
powers by which it finally absorbed and transmuted the institutions
of feudalism. But their restless activity impelled them forward;
everywhere were found' French merchants and French pilgrims ;
in every battle of the Church the Normans were fighting with that
peculiar combination of self-interest and devotion which dis-
tinguished them. France was the leader and the champion of
Europe, when the' West went out to try its strength in battle with
the East—to return enriched with new experience, and animated
by the proud consciousness of its united power.
The literary history of the period may be somewhat briefly
reviewed. Theology and philosophy continued in the old paths,
until the new movement was inaugurated, of which the University
* This statement is made on the authority of Michelet; but the proof he adduces is
somewhat slender.
B
10
was the great result; and the popular poetry of the time, rich as
it was in imagination, offers little of permanent interest. The
schools continued their activity under a succession of able and
worthy teachers. Heiric studied at Fulda under Rabanus, and at
Ferrieres under Lupus, and became in his turn the head'of a band
of disciples who gathered round him at Auxerre. From this
school came Remigius, who, towards the close of the ninth century,
filled the cloister of N otre Dame at Paris with a throng of students,
attracted partly by his learning, partly by the high personal
character and influence which gained him the honour of sainthood.
The chair of Rabanus was occupied in the tenth century by Poppo,
a rhetorician of some ability; and about the same time, N otker
Labeo of St. Gall entered upon an almost untried province of
scholarship by translating certain classical works into German.
Otto of Clugny, a disciple of Remigius, reformed the cloister
of Aurillac, where the training of Gerbert was begun. Gerbert’s
best pupil was Fulbert, who taught in 990 at Chartres, of which
town he was afterwards bishop. His scholars, impressed with his
' philosophic enthusiasm, gave him the name of “Socrates ;” but
there was one among them who was not contented with the
exhortations to unquestioning faith with which the aged teacher
closed his dialectic exposition. This was the celebrated Berengarius,
who, after an interval of two centuries, repeated the doctrines and
experienced the fortune of John Scotus Erigena. His pious aus-
terity and single-minded devotion of life gained the respect of
many who differed widely from his opinions. During his master-
ship, the school of St. Martin of Tours was more active and popular
than it had been since the days when Alcuin was abbot. But the
heresies of Berengarius, though they attracted the attention of all
the authorities of the Church, were not so uncompromising'in their
, daring as those of another clerk of Chartres. Roscelin, the Canon
of Compiégne, was the first to reject the philosophical doctrines on
which the writings of the Fathers were based, to apply to the terms
in which the Christian dogmas were expressed the rigorous tests of
a purely critical dialecticft‘ Nor did he confine himself to the sub-
jects generally dealt with in lecture-rooms; he pointed out with
unsparin g severity the laxity of practice which characterised the
dignitaries of the Church. Three Councils condemned his opinions;
and he was at last forced to fly into England.
Against these heretical champions were ranged a large number
of worthy and orthodox teachers. In Italy Hildebrand and Peter
Damiani had done much for learning, though they discouraged the
growing pretensions of philosophy ; and from Italy came the two
most popular teachers of France in that time, Lanfranc and
Anselm, both trained in the schools of Bologna, and both ardent
supporters of Gregory VII., the first primates of the Norman Con-
* Hauréan, P/n'Zos. 807102.,- op. Abelard, Opp. i. 334.
ll
quest of England. The little abbey of Bee in Normandy became,
in the priorate of Lanfranc, a most active and important centre of '
intellectual life; it was thronged by men of all ranks, from the
poor scholar who trusted to its charity for his subsistence, to the
noble who could enrich it by his donations. The teacher was not
unworthy of his popularity, and Anselm, his pupil and successor,
maintained the dignity of his chair. The fables related of the
miracle~working power of Anselm prove at least his influence over
the minds of men; his works show him to have been possessed of
subtle and cultivated intellect. England, as well as France, owes
much to his vigorous exertions in the cause of learning.
- Everywhere signs began to appear of profound and universal
excitement. The national conscience was ready to respond eagerly
to the appeals of the hermit of Picardy. The spirit and intel-
ligence of the great towns allied itself with the unifying principle
of royalty, and both were encouraged by that imperial authority
which Hildebrand had founded and Urban II. was able to exercise.
The thoughts of men were turned to the great ideas and imagina-
tions which came to us from the East ; it seemed as it the united
forces of Western Christianity might establish the true religion
once more in its ancient home, and overturn the unstable throne of
the superstition of Islam. Such were the circumstances in the
midst of which Abelard passed his youth—circumstances peculiarly
appropriate to the foundation of that Republic of Letters which
was to draw its citizens from all climes and nationalities.
There has been as yet little occasion to mention any school con-
nected with Paris. Tours under the Merovingian kings and Rheims
under the empire had greater claims to be considered the political
and literary capital of France. But with the religious enthusiasm
and the rise of royalty in the eleventh century, the interest of
history begins to centre once more in the favourite seat of Julian.
The hill of Montmartre was covered with churches; a circle of
great abbeys, from St. Denis to St. Germain-des-prés, surrounded
the town; the island was covered with an almost unbroken mass
of sacred edifices; the Louvre, the Palais, and the Chatelets were
the head-quarters of law and authority in central France. Many
nobles and rich men came to enjoy the pleasures and advantages
of city life. Schools were not wanting—all, of course, in connec-
tion with the great ecclesiastical establishments. Lambert, a
pupil of Fulbert of Chartres, revived the School of Remigius, and -
acquired not only popularity but a considerable fortune in fees.
Manegold of Lutenbach, a man of acquirements considerable in
that age, taught in Paris about the time when Anselm of Laon was
beginning to be known as a theologian ; and it is perhaps worthy
of mention that Manegold’s wife and two daughters are said to
have been as learned and as successful in teaching as himself.
Towards the close of the eleventh century the most active schools
are those of N otre Dame, of St. Germain, and of St. Genevieve.
12
These abbeys were both on the left bank of the Seine, and 'in that
quarter accordingly the scholars chiefly resided.
Such was the state of affairs when in the opening years of the
twelfth century William of Champeaux, a pupil of Manegold,
Roscelin, and Anselm of Laon, became archdeacon and master of
the Cloister Schools of N otre Dame. He lectured in philosophy,
rhetoric, and theology, on the-orthodox system of Anselm, and his
ability soon attracted a great number of scholars, Less famous
schools flourished in like manner; from‘ every quarter came hun-
dreds of ardent young men, who desired to live only for the pursuit
of knowledge “in meekness, poverty, and useful travai .” The-
steep streets leading up from the Bridges to the Abbey of St.
Genevieve were soon crowded with the busy multitude; and it is
not easy to imagine how such a population found lodging for itself
and settled down in peaoeable order. Police was not an all-impor-
tant matter in those days, and a certain amount of tumult was
looked upon as inevitable. We shall frequently have to observe
that scholastic discipline did little to repress the licence of this
great gathering. It was impossible for the teachers to exercise
personal supervision over their hearers; and there was as yet little
of the desire for rule and governance which afterwards produced
the Colleges. Unrestrained liberty was the universal law ; all who
were not absolutely forbidden by episcopal or abbatial Chancery
might set up separate chairs; the disciple who thought himself
better informed than his master expressed his opinions in open
debate. Freedom, struggling for existence in the towns of Flanders,
banished frdm Baronial court and Apostolic chamber, sat supreme
“in monte locutitio,” on the hill of St. -Geneviéve. No exact
estimate can be given of the number of students ; the statistlcs of
later times probably include all the population of the part of the
town subsequently known as The University, whether they were
members or only dependants of the schools; and Paris had its
share of those “ varlets,” described by the historian of Oxford, “ who
shuffled themselves in under the name of scholars, and by thieving ”
and other bad courses brought disgrace on the name they assumed.
The spirit of the growing community finds its best representative
in a man whose adventures, sorrows, and achievements are one of
the favouriteromances of literary histor .
Peter Abelard was born in the little Breton bourg of Le Pallet,
.in the year 1079. As the eldest son of a noble house, he was to
be trained for a military career; but hardly had he finished the
somewhat meagre course of Donatus and Priscian, when he began
to display that restless spirit of inquiry, that intellect bold and
powerful in speculation, which the life of a successful soldier was
' noway likely to satisfy. In several of the famous schools of France,
including that of Roscelin at Compiegne, he attended as a scholar,
everywhere commanding admiration by his brilliant powers in
debate, and everywhere exciting hostility by his want of respect
13
for authorities and his almost fanatical love of controversy. ' He
arrived at Paris strong in his intellectual ambition; and became
at once, in virtue of his unremitting industry and the charm of
his conversation, the leader of the students and the favourite of the
great Archdeacon, William of Champeaux. But the course which
satisfied others seemed to Abelard only the preliminary to greater
things that he might himself accomplish; he felt that he could
deal with the problems which then vexed thoughtful minds more
ably than any living teacher. Unseemly disputes, arose between
master and scholar; William felt himself unfit for the contest, and
saw that his reputation and chances of preferment were being
diminished; he therefore retired to the little monastery of St.
Victor, while his rebellious pupil threw himself with energy into
the work of an independent school which he established by the aid
of certain noble admirers, first at the royal residence of Melun,
and afterwards at Corbeil, close to Paris. Returning from a journey
into Brittany, undertaken for the sake of his health, Abelard
found WVilliam again in possession of the field, teaching with
applause as a Canon of St. Victor. Moved, it is to be feared, by an
unworthy personal ambition, he became once mOre William's disciple,
with the result that might have been expected. The master was
forced to confess himself vanquished, and retired from his chair
and from Paris. At last, in 1113, William was made Bishop of
Chalons; and Abelard, after completing his theological studies by
a short but stormy experience of the school of Anselm of Laon,
returned to Paris as Master of the Cloister of N otre Dame, and
acknowledged leader of the scholars of Paris. He had said farewell
to his parents—both of whom embraced the monastic life—but he
was now to form a new connection, the most important and the
most disastrous of his eventful life. All the world knows the sad
romance that interrupted the course of his triumphs. Abelard
sought relief for his outraged spirit in the monastery of St. Denis,
and lay for a time in his retreat, silent and despairing. But the
energies of his mind were not yet exhausted, and while Heloise
vainly sought comfort in the monotonous duties of her convent,
Abelard was entering again into the excitement of the schools.
At the sound of his voice, the old enthusiasm revived. We, who
possess only the dry and barren record of his thoughts, can hardly
understand the charm of his teaching—a charm which belonged
not to the subject but to the power with which it was handled, and
the living contact of the hearers with an original genius.
The two most conspicuous citizens of France at this time were
Abelard, the champion of free thought, and St. Bernard, the
champion of the faith; and these great men were now to engage
in uncompromising conflict. It is not necessary to trace in detail
the fortunes of the controversy. Abelard’s rivals of the school of
Laon procured his condemnation at the Council of Soissons, in spite
of the friendly protest of the Bishop of Chartres, one of the many
14
dignitaries who had studied at Paris. From his prison at St.
Medard the irrepressible man returns to St. Denis. Troubles
manifold always surround him ; he goes in terror of his life because
he will not believe the tradition of his abbey about Dionysius the
Areopagite ; at last he begs of a noble friend a few yards of waste
land on which to build himself a cell for solitary meditation. But
in a few months hundreds of scholars have found him out; the
reed-hut becomes a spacious chapel of stone, and the familiar voice
is heard once again. Once more he retires to a distant abbey,
where his eloquence is exercised in vain upon illiterate monks and
a sacrilegious patron; once more he ventures to return to his Paris
lecture-room; St. Bernard takes the field, bishops and princes are
summoned to Sens, to pronounce this time an effectual censure.
The scene has been often described,——the excited crowd swaying
outside the Bishop’s Hall, ready to tear the heretic in pieces; the
brilliant assembly within, overcome by copious rhetoric and too
copious potations, sleepily murmuring “ Damnamus—namus,” as
Bernard proceeds with his formidable tale of indictments. Abelard
escaped alive from the populace and the council, to spend the short
remainder of his life in silent industry and prayer, under the
affectionate care of the venerable Abbot of Cluny.
Gilbert of La Porrée now took the first place among the Paris
masters. He continued to teach after he had attained the dignity
of Bishop of Poitou, and his politic gravity of conduct seemed to
promise that he might escape the fate of his predecessor. But two
of his own archdeacons, one of them bearing the formidable name,
Arnoldus “ Qui-non-ridet,” were dissatisfied with his doctrine,
and drew upon him the attack of St. Bernard, who was now sup-
ported by the authority of his pupil Eugenius III. Gilbert on the
other hand was defended by the cardinals, who were jealous of the
influence of the Gallican divine. Two councils, that of Paris, held
in 1147, and that of Rheims in the following year, ended with the
formal retractation of the heretic, and victory remained once‘more
with St. Bernard. It was now sufficiently evident that neither
the critical philosophy of Roscelin nor the dogmatic philosophy of
Abelard could escape the censure 'of the Church. Theology reigned
supreme at Paris, and the House of St. Victor rose in importance.
Godfrey and Gauthier of that school seemed likely to return to
the opinion held of logic by Martianus Cupella, who had personified
that science as a Fury; and Richard of Scotland, the greatest
teacher of his house, turned his argumentative skill to the exalta-
tion of a faith “ supra et praeter rationem,” which made conscience
the guide of reason, and the ecstasy of devotion the true condition
of the discovery of truth.
The greatest example of the prevailing indifference to philosophy
is Peter Lombard, a theologian so famous that the king’s brother
retired in his favour from the episcopal seat of Paris. His
‘-‘ Sentences,” composed on the basis of a previous work by Cardinal
15
Pulleyn, the restorer of learning at Oxford, were more respected
and studied for three centuries than any uninspired writings,
though they escaped not, during their author’s lifetime, the
suspicion of heresy. They exhibit nothing of the philosopher but
the faculty of lucid exposition ; indeed the care with which Lombard,
the pupil of Abelard, avoids independent speculation, seems to
prove that the circumstances of the time and not the bent of his
own mind forced him to abstain from the logical method of
criticism.
The interest of our subject has hitherto been to some extent
biographical merely. That a number of ardent young men should
gather where able teachers were to be found—-—this was nothing
new in history. But towards the close of the twelfth century the
circumstances of the town of Paris and the University—as we shall
soon be able to call it—were materially changed. There were then
two great powers in Europe. The kings of France were no longer
compelled to maintain a narrow suzerainty by constant warfare,
nor were they so much distracted as they had been by the wander—
ing enthusiasm of the Crusade. The Popes rose superior to petty
strifes with the single metropolitans or with the Prefects of Rome.
The homage done to Alexander III. by Frederick Barbarossa after
the battle of Legnano (1159), and the return of Philip Augustus
from the siege of Acre (1190), mark the opening of a new era in
European history. The young king, who had allied himself with
the family of Charles the Great, as if to symbolize his imperial
ambition, saw himself surrounded by rivals whom he might hope
to subdue, and face to face with the power of Rome, which could
forward the attainment of his ends more powerfully than any
military reinforcement. The Emperor was held in check by the
Lombard towns; the throne of England, shaken by the strong
hand of Becket, seemed likely to become, what Aragon already was,
the fief of the Church. The brief interval of inaction during which
Philip lay under the Papal ban,'was succeeded by the alliance of
French royalty with Innocent III., the most able and ambitious
statesman of his time. Against these two powers were ranged the
heretical princes and communal republics of the North and South
of France, the King of England, and the Emperor Otho, rival of
Frederick II., the infant ward of the Pope. The spirit of liberty,
which found its first orator in Abelard, was preached in its extremest
form by the partisans of rival faiths, and by the demagogues who
roused to fury the passions of their turbulent townsmen. It might
have seemed that no force was sufficient to oppose these combina-
tions. But the close order of the ranks that backed the royal
power, and the grand unifying purpose of the Popes, were far
stronger than the chaotic instability of the communes, and the
Manichean Church, or the crude Protestantism of the Vaudois;
and a cause which found its typical leaders in Raimond of Toulouse
and John of England lacked every element of moral dignity.
16
The success of the king in France was largely due to the skill
with which he drew to himself all powers that could aid him in his
struggle with those whom he sought to make his vassals. At his
court soldiers of fortune and ambitious younger sons were sure of
a career; the leaders of the clergy and of the burgh towns were
treated with all conciliatory respect. In pursuing such a policy,
it was impossible to overlook the Schools of Paris. _ Their higher
teachers were men of very great influence ; one of them'* had been
able to wage successful war with the Bishop of Paris, in spite of
interdict and excOmmunication ; the Pope had supported him, and
the enthusiasm of his scholars had gone near to endanger the lives
of the obstinate prelate and his oflicial. From an early date
Masters had been summoned from their lecture-rooms to attend the
Councils ;'l" they supplied many of the bishops and other dignitaries,
and already in 1200 three Paris scholars had reached the Papal
chain: v
To give due weight to the opinions influence of so important
a body, a constitution was requisite. This work was fairly begun
in the year 1200, on the occasion of a somewhat unfortunate event.
Some scholars had betaken themselves on a holyday to the tavern,
and their merriment ended in a serious riot. The Provost of Paris
called out his men; a regular battle—blue hacquetons against
gown and cassock—took place; and an archdeacon and bishop-elect
of Liege, who had taken part in the fray, was killed. The Masters,
who formed at this time an organized “consortium,”§ carried a
complaint to the king. The scholars had been to blame; andit
seems not unlikely that the royal decision was biassed in some
degree by the desire to conciliate a new ally; it was not necessary
to flatter the town, which was already, by all its. priVile'ges and
interests, bound to the king. The provost was severely punished ;
and it was enacted that all his successors, and all burgesses, should
swear to respect the rights of the University, saving always their
faith to the king.“ It may be observed that the Masters did not
appreciate the; importance of their victory; they viewed it rather
as a personal matter, and would have given up part of the rights
granted them for leave to humiliate the townsmen by a public
flogging inflicted on their leaders. But the first step had been
taken, and from the charter granted in 1200 there is steady pro-
gress. The Masters appointed a committee of their own number
to frame rules of discipline; and this task was forwarded by one of
* Galon, called a “poet” by the annalists. The cause of his difference with the
bishop is not known. _
1‘ As e.g. William of Champeaux and the Abbot .Ioscelin.
1 Adrian IV. (Breakspear), Celestine 11., Innocent III.
§ The fact is beyond doubt, though the reference to Matthew Paris by which
Crévier supports it cannot be verified.
[I Theseoaths, and the duties of the Provost as Conservator of privileges, subsisted
till 1592. The independence of the University did not last long; scholars were tried
at the Chatelet in 1340.
17
the last ordinances 'of Innocent III., carried into executiOn by his
1egate, Robert de Courcon, From the rule thus framed dates the
corporate standing of the University, which had now attained all
the conditions of stability—the right of independent legislation,
the right of prescribing an oath to its members, and the exemption
from the ordinary jurisdictions. N o scholar could be summoned into
a civil court, and the ecclesiastical courts were not permitted to
interfere with such cases as were reserved for University authorities.
This privilege led to frequent disturbances; the official of Paris
occasionally insisted on his rights; and we shall find that in later
times the scholars abused their privilege by citing their adversaries
in common civil cases to the University Courts at Paris. But it
was extremely important that no bigoted judge or prelate should
have power to restrict the activity of the schools. This may be
proved from the history of the long and bitter struggle over the
pretensions of the Chancellors of N otre Dame and St. Genevieve.
To these officers had been committed in old time the care of the
schools of the Cloister and the Abbey ,' they now claimed the right
of examining and licensing all candidates for Mastership. From
the beginning the Masters had contested the point, and three
Councils‘ had forbidden the Chancellors to refuse the license to
any worthy candidate. In spite of these prohibitions, new cause for
complaint was frequently given; until at‘ last Philip of Greves,
the hot-headed Chancellor of N otre Dame, insisted on all the powers
and—what was not less important—all the feesj' that had ever
pertained to his oflice. The Masters resisted the claim; and Philip,
supported by his bishop, proceeded to lay the Hill of St. Genevieve
under interdict, and to exclude several masters from the commu-
nion, even at the season of Easter}: N 0 legal redress could be
obtained, except by appeal to the Pope. Honorius III., while;
reserving the right of the Chancellor to license, distinctly recognised
the independent position of the University, and confirmed it by a
Bull, which Gregory IX. afterwards§ supplemented by the rule
that no member of the University might be excommunicated,
except by the Pope. These and other privileges were protected
by a special Tribunal of Conservation, in which a churchman of high
rank represented the Pope, the PrOVOst of Paris representing the
Kin .||
Sgch were the external sanctions of University rights. The
internal institutions and habits may best be understood by follow-
ing the ordinary routine of a student who qualified himself for
Mastership. A young man travelling to the University found the
* London, 1138; Lateran, 1179; Lateran, 1215.
t' Chancellors had sometimes exacted a silver mark from each candidate. Special
permission to receive the fees was given to Petrus Comestor, 1180.
1 Year 1219. § 1228, renewed 12-59.
I] The choice of the University was afterwards limited to the Bishops of Meaux,
Beauvais, and Senlis. For the Provost, see previous note.
0
18
roads kept open and free of toll by special ordinance of king or
emperor. If he had any supplies to receive from home, there were
special messengers appointed, under the supervision of trustworthy
men of business in Paris, to bring news or money to the scholars.
On his arrival, he attached himself to a Master, to whom he paid
a moderate fixed fee so long as their connection lasted. It was not-
unusual for bands of scholars from. the same province to travel.
together, and a Master was often the leader'of the company. But
whether the student arrived alone or with others, he soon found it
impossible to live in comfort, or even in safety, without the support-
of comrades of his own country?“ Provincial jealousies ran high,
and led to frequent tumults; and the rule that no clerk should
carry arms was never very strictly observed. The unfortunate
strife was encouraged by the very constitution of the University,
which was divided roughly into four N ations,-l‘ each of which had a
separate purse, separate houses for sick and needy members, separate
officers, and separate nicknames, bestowed by the malice of its
rivals; Each Nation had certain funds for assisting its poor
scholars, or “bursars ;” for if the parents of a student were poor
he had only occasional donations to depend on, eked out by private
teaching among the children of rich men in the town.
The daily life of the community was regulated by statute.
Lectures began before sunrise, at the ringing of first mass from the
Carmelites, and continued till noon, the hour of dinner. After
dinner, the Masters, if there was a University meeting, assembled
in the Church of St. Julian; while the students betook. themselves
to the Pré-aux-Clercs, a goodly piece of ground stretching round
by the circular towers of the encez'm‘e, as far as the abbey of St.
Germain-des-prés. After supper, about sunset, study was resumed,
under the presidency of Master or Bachelor, for there were as yet
no books ; a copy of the “ Sentences ” had to be kept, under lock
and key, in binding of oak and iron; and all information was
delivered orally, to be taken down in writing by those who could
afford the luxury, or, in default of stationery, to be committed to
memory. Three hours before midnight, the chains which barred
the narrow streets began to be fastened up; watches patrolled in
the name of the various authorities who claimed a share in the
police of Paris; and every son of learning was expected to be in
bed, unless he had access to some of the towers where the votaries
of astrology outwatched the stars. Such was the daily course of
the scholar’s life at Paris ; and if We would understand its attrac-
tions, we must remember what manner of city it was in which the
' The Nunoz'i were formed into a Royal Corporation in 1478. They were often
complained of as “ abusores privilegiorum.”
1' The balance was maintained by e.g. classing Russians, Poles, and Hungarians as
English. The four were French, English (or German), Norman, and Picard (or
Fleming). .
I A collection of these amenities is given in Jae. de Vitriaao. The passage is also
quoted in Lannoy, .De Schoh's celebrioribus.
.19
University had established itself. To every soldier, priest, and
merchant of the age, Paris was the centre of the world. Nowhere
were there more noble mansions and knightly tilting-grounds; it
was “le séjour le plus chevaleresque du monde ;” nowhere were
churches and abbeys more numerous and splendid, or religion more
lavishly supported and adorned. Philip Augustus gave it new
walls and marketplaces, armouries and hospitals, and in laying the
last stone of the Cathedral, he put the crown on his work, and
made Paris the perfect type of mediaeval art.
After six years,*'6 if the student had completed his twenty-first
year, he might, on the payment of a small fee to his Master, obtain
leave to teach as a Bachelor, his special duty being to repeat the
elements which hadto be committed to memory, the more exhaus-
tive treatment of the subject being left to the Master. The usual
time for taking this subordinate degree fell in the Carnival season;
and the University authorities were frequently obliged to put a
limit to the feasting, bonfires, and riot, in which the new-made
'Bachelors were wont to indulge. After two years of baccalaureate
standing, the scholar might assume, by leave of the Chancellorj‘
the dignity of full Master. He must then provide himself with- a
“round black gown, falling down to the ankles—at least, when it
is new,” as the statute describes it. In this garb he might read,
in logic, rhetoric, and theology; the established text-books, care-
fully avoiding the Talmud, the works of Aristotle, and the “ offen-
sive ” heresies of Amaury of Dinant.
The Four Nations held a University meeting once a week. Each
nation had its Proctor, and the four Proctors elected the Rector,
the Head of the University, who served for three months, with
possibility of reelection. A distinction was made between those
who taught the “liberal arts,” and the Theologians and Canon
Lawyersq': From the former were drawn the Regents, or resident
Masters of Arts, who attended all University meetings; on extra-
ordinary occasions, all Masters were admitted; and we are told
that on one occasion even the scholars were summoned. Even
if the statement is correct, it is plain that only the merest fraction
of so large a body as that composed by the students of Paris could
find accommodation in any hall, palatial or episcopal.§
It is not easy to illustrate on a large scale the course of action
by which the University aided the royal projects of Philip and the
‘2 It was common for youths to enter the University at fifteen. Hence, perhaps, the
use of the rod as an instrument of discipline. (Even Bachelors were sometimes
subjected to corporal chastisement.)
t To teach in arts, the licence of the Chancellor of St. Genevieve was sufficient ; for
theology, that of the Chancellor of Paris was requisite. The right of examination was
left to the Nations, Chancellors occasionally putting in a claim.
If; The faculties are of later date.
s} This account of the constitution is accurate only for the period embraced in this
essay. Many changes were afterwards introduced, especially after the University was
forced to submit to the Parlement, in the fifteenth century.
20
Crusade of Innocent. It was not yet in a position to offer advice
to sovereigns, to dictate the policy of Popes ; its influence rested as
yet mainly upon the affection of those of its sons who had reached
dignity in the Church, or of princes and noblemen who had taken
advantage of its appliances of instruction. This affection was
indeed a wonderfully strong foundation. Men looked back with
interest and pleasure on the days they had spent in the exciting
activity of the schools; “Nos fuimus simul in Galandiafi‘ was
a salutation to which any true son of Alma Mater would heartily
respond. An institution which sent out so many trained and
attached citizens, exercised a widely-extended power over the
minds of men. This power was displayed in the exertions of
the bishops to raise troops for Simon de Montfort, and in the suc-
cessful struggle maintained by Stephen Langton, once a popular
Master at Paris, against the King of England. The University
may be said to have helped to join Normandy and Picardy to the
French Crown, to force Languedoc to place itself under Philip
Augustus, to draw up and compel the signature of Magna Gharta.
In the crusade against various heresies Paris had its share; we
hear of the burning of Waldensians and Jews, not only in the
town, but in the Scholars’ Quarter.
It was well for the University that it obtained its constitution
before the two Mendicant Orders had established themselves at
Paris. The strength of the community lay in the fact that it was
in a manner independent of all authorities; it could on occasion
defy the bishop, and even refuse admission to the officers of the
king ; its decisions had all the weight of a free republic, While the
predominance of the Masters prevented the wild licence which
invaded the schools of Italy. This stable independence could only
be maintained so long as the majority of the Masters were seculars,
free from the constraint imposed by a regular order on the opinions
and aspirations of its members. The establishment of the Domin-
icans in the Maison St. Jacques was far from detrimental to the
intellectual activity of the University; and the Franciscans who
followed them, though they were forbidden by their rule to receive
any title or degree, furnished many able teachers of philosophy and
theology. In the history of the two orders a certain distinction
may be observed, corresponding to the striking difference of
character in their founders. The followers of the cultivated and
statesmanlike Dominic were preeminent in all that pertained to the
systematic treatment of knowledge and faith, and the maintenance
of Catholic unity ; while the brothers of the poet and visionary St.
Francis were distinguished by an imaginative subtlety which was
apt to lead them into extravagances of opinions. To the one order
belongs Aquinas, who “ took all knowledge for his province,” and
repressed all heretical caprice with something of an imperial
" Rue 'de Galande, or de Guirlande, where were many schools.
21
severity; to the other belong the more freely speculative Bonaven~
tura and Duns Scotus, and the authors of the “ Eternal Gospel.”
In the year 1229 occurred one of the riots which not unfre-
quently disturbed the repose of academic life in Paris; Queen
Blanche called out the Provost and his bowmen ; and one student
was slain. The protest of the Nations was not regarded; and the
Masters proceeded to exercise their rights by dispersing the Uni-
versity. The various seats of learning in France received them
willingly; at Angers and Toulouse they even admitted candidates
to degrees with the same forms as if they had been at Paris.
Meanwhile, the Dominicans occupied their chairs, and continued to
lecture to the students who still resorted to the ancient seat of the
University. The king, or the queen-regent in his name, resumed '
the benefices granted to the absent Masters ; and the difficulties thus
occasioned drew no less than seven Bulls in one year from Pope
Gregory IX., in which the rights of the Masters were defended,
various questions of discipline authoritatively settled, and the eight
chairs of theology fairly divided among the conflicting parties.
This settlement did not last long ; Alexander IV. had to deal with
a still more violent outbreak of jealousy. The orders had failed
to maintain the high purity of their earlier aspirations. The
travelling Friar was a favourite subject with contemporary satirists;
and the higher authorities of the brotherhood were too prone to
encourage the extravagant heresies of the day. John of Parma
and Joachim, both Franciscans, published a book called the
“ Eternal Gospel,” in which an appearance of the Holy Spirit was
foretold for the year 1260. The leader of the opposition to the
book was William of St. Amour, described as “ Proctor or Syndic ”
of the University, who wrote a treatise “On the Perils of these
Latter Days,” in which he denounced the opinions of Joachim.
A counter-accusation of heresy he triumphantly repelled, no less
than four thousand scholars offering to make “canonical purga-
tion ”* by oath along with him. In 1255 Alexander issued a Bull,
equalizing the rights of seculars and regulars, and depriving the
University, by indirect means, of the right of dispersion. The-
Masters protested, and again vacated their chairs; and so strong
was the general excitement, that the Dominican professors, who
continued to lecture, had to be protected by a guard of bowmen.
A Council was held at Paris, from which the orders obtained the
right to two chairs of theology; two Bulls, one to the University,
one to the king, confirmed the decision. Again the Masters
resolved to disperse, and St. Amour, with three others, set out to
lay their grievances before the Pope. He maintained his cause
manfully, met with a firm denial the accusation of heresy, and
demanded that a benefice which he enjoyed, according to the-
* Ducauge, s. v. “ Purgatio,” mentions three hundred as an extraordinary number-
of compurgatores, in a civil case.
22
custom of the schools,* should be restored. But his three col-
leagues, who had come to some understanding with the Pope, sup-
ported him coldly, and at last deserted him, having secured them-
selves in possession of their own benefices. They returned to
Paris, to meet with no very friendly reception among the scholars,
with whom St. Amour had been highly popular as a teacher and
preacher. Thomas Aquinas and Bonaventura ruled supreme in the
schools; the general ill-feeling against the orders found vent in
the “ Romaunt of the Rose,” of William of Lorris. The dispersed
Masters returned, seeing that their efforts had failed; William of
St. Amour, forbidden to reenter Paris, died in banishment at his
native village in Franche-Comté. But it was long before the two
' elements were peaceably combined; many of the Masters would
Walk out of St. Julian’s Church at the entrance of the black-
gowned “ Preachers ” to take part in University meetings.
The orders lost much of their power when they became estab-
lished institutions. It was the strong enthusiasm which carried
them over Europe in a few years, of which the University had
been afraid ; the secular Masters were now content with insisting
that regulars should take the usual oaths before enjoying Univer-
sity privileges. One result of the long struggle was the organiza-
tion of the F aculties—higher societies, superimposed upon the
National constitution. Students and Bachelors still belonged to
the four Nations, which composed what was sometimes called the
Arts Faculty; Masters of Theology, Medicine, and Canon Law,
were ranked in the Faculties with the title of Doctor, the dignity
of which was equivalent to that of a Chevalier. Surgeons and
physicians had always been numerous at Paris yr Canon Law, and
even Roman Law, in spite of Papal prohibitions,i had always been
taught in the schools, and Masters of the several sciences had
formed themselves into companies; the Faculties and the Deans
were the formal recognition of existing protessorial distinct-ions.
It is to be observed that the unity of the University was not
impaired by these numerous divisions; in spite of the frequent
tumults, there was little of the spirit of fact-ion among the scholars ;
and we shall see in later times that the decisions of the Faculty of
Theology were equal to decisions of the whole body.
N o constitution could preserve peace very long in a community
so excitable; and in 1264, Urban III. gave commission to his
legate Simon of Brie to act as arbiter in the disputes that con-
stantly arose. The Nation of France, far superior to the others in
wealth and numbers, set up a Rector of its own, and in other ways
* There was a special ordinance that these “ qui in scholis mliitant ” should enjoy
benefices without residence.
1' The statutes distinguished the professions of Apothecary, Surgeon, and Herbalist. '
N 0 Jew was permitted to practise among Christians.
1 The design was that Theology and Church Law should be studied as the main
parts of the course. Similar restrictions were in force at Angers and Montpellier.
23
asserted its independence. The Tribunal of ConservatiOn, besides
being engaged in controversies with the officialty of Paris, had
arrogated to itself jurisdiction over civil cases in which scholars
were concerned; and the old strife with the orders seemed likely
to be renewed. With all these matters the Cardinal dealt, exercis-
ing such patience and firmness as he was master of. It is a somee
what remarkable fact that the arbiter, who had in most cases
favoured the cause of the University while he was in Paris, began
to "send letters in support of the Dominicans as soon as he had been
elected Pope (under the title of Martin IV., 1281). The orders
were the most powerful instrument of the policy of Rome, because
their influence was universal ; the travelling “ Pardoner,” with his
portable altar and highly-spiced sermons, supplanting the village
curate, secured the alms and the reverence of the vulgar; while the
great schoolmen and Church politicians formed the opinions of the
more cultivated classes.
Towards the close of the thirteenth century, the Colleges gradu-
ally rose into importance as a part of the University constitution.
From an early date, houses of a collegiate character had existed;
but the first foundation in complete form and“ discipline is of
the time of Thomas a Becket. The next of importance is the
College of Constantinople,* founded for the use of the numerous
Greeks who took refuge in France in the thirteenth century.
About 1250, Robert of Sorbonne founded the College which became
famous as the place of meeting of the Faculty of Theology. Cther
houses of note are the theological College of Clugny, the College
of Harcourtfi in the chapel of which the University sermon was
preached on Sunday, and the College of Navarre, the largest and
most comprehensive foundation of Paris. Each of these establish-
ments had a Visitor (generally a Bishop or Archdeacon), a Head,
with the title of Rector, Master, or Provisor; Senior Bursars
receiving about six sols a week, and Juniors, with three or four
sols a week. The Bursars were elected by examination, preference
being given in many of the Colleges to natives of particular dis~
tricts, or novices of particular religious houses. The importance
of these institutions lay in their power of drawing the students
together, and in their efficient maintenance of discipline. For a.
century and a half there had been continual troubles with regard
to the “ hospitia ” or lodgings, hired either by single scholars, or
by Masters for their pupils. The French people of that age were
not fastidious in respect of comfort and decency; and the scholars
were no exception to the rule. The courts of the Rue de la
F ouarre and other scholastic streets were dark, damp, and often
* Andres tries to prove that the idea of Colleges was derived from the learned houses
of the Saracens. But the institution may be sufficiently accounted for by the necessity
of some reasonable plan for employing the frequent Bounties given “ minutis scholar-
ibus.” Hallam, H. Lit. i. 14. _
1- A Bursary founded in this House at a later date by the cook, may be taken as
proof that Colleges afterwards came to live in a somewhat sumptuous style.
.24.-
filthy; Masters of reputation might be found teaching on the
first floor of houses whose basement was occupied by low wine-
houses of the worst character. WVhen we read De Vitri’s descrip-
tion of these places, we cease to wonder that riot and disorder were
common in a community where vice walked so openly abroad,
where the ordinary safeguards of morality were almost entirely
wanting. The Colleges were also useful to the University in
respect of their buildings. Their halls and chapels exhibited a
-chastened and simple variety of Gothic architecture, and they sup-
plied places of meeting more suitable than the churches to which
the Rector and the Deans had been accustomed to summon the
Masters. One consequence of the stormy incidents of its growth
was that the University of Paris never had any buildings of
its own.
If the'students were unruly and quarrelsome, they were at least
no worse than the members of other ecclesiastical establishments.
About the time when Philip the Bold renewed the privileges of the
University, a great fight took place between the scholars and the
monks of St. Germain-des-prés. That splendid abbey, with its em-
battled towers and beautiful spires, was close to the .Pré-aux-clercs ;
indeed the monks had a tradition that the meadow was presented
‘to the scholars by one of their abbots?“ Some wild young clerks '
had gathered to jeer at the Brothers employed on the buildings;
the monks replied with stones; each side'called up its partisans;
and in the fight that ensued, some scholars were killed. The
abbey refused to submit to the' judgment of the king; Simon of
Brie, again present in Paris as legate, tried thecause, and ordered
the monks to do penance for their violence, and to pay a consider-
able sum in compensation to the parents of the slain, besides two
hundred livres to be distributed among poor scholars-l- _
While the University was thus struggling for its existence, its
external history is not marked by many events of importance.
The reign of St. Louis did-not raise France in its relations with
other countries ;; the Crusade was indeed, as J oinville said, a deser-
tion of duties at home; the revolt of the Pastoureaux reveals the
depth of hopeless misery in which a large part of the French
people were sunk, while their rulers were lingering in__ Cyprus or
Egypt. But if government and nationality made little progress,
there were other movements well worthy of the attention of history.
The intellectual enfranchisement begun by Abelard made remark-
- .able advances during the thirteenth century. The greatest names
in the philosophy of the time belong to the two mendicant orders;
and the source from which these learned monks drew their inspira-
1tion was the version of Greek philosophy preserved in the East.
' More probably given by Childebert. . .
1- The com ents of Paris were noted for their turbulence ; many of them were fortified
'(as- St. Germain). Compare in later times the tales related in the Notes to Boileau’s
Lutrz'n, chant i. ~ I
25
The means by which the thought of Aristotle was restored to
Europe may be understood from such stories as that of Michael
Scot, the young laird whom the love of knowlege drew from
his native tower of Balwearie on the bleak coast of Fife, to com-
mune with Jews and Moors at Toledo, to labour at translating
Aristotle with the notes of Averroes, and to return at last to
Scotland with an established reputation as a “ wizard.” Michael
and his fellow-labourer Hermann were welcomed at the brilliant
court of Frederick Hohenstaufen, where orthodoxy was not much
thought of; but the Bishops suspected, not without reason, that
the growing “Averroism” was only a cloak for scientific infi-
delity. Alexander of Hales, the Franciscan lecturer, introduced
the new learning, with precautions, into the schools; and William
of Auvergne, the Bishop of Paris, to whom Roger Bacon dedicates
his Opus Mqjus, was accustomed to denounce Arabian metaphysics,
of which he knew very little himself. Even the Dominicans came
under the strange power of the subtle thinkers of the East; Albert
the Great was betrayed into heresy by the reasoning of Avicenna;
and Thomas Aquinas is not only the weightiest opponent, but the
ablest disciple of Averroes. It was in vain to persecute the Jew-
ish physicians and merchants who disseminated the noxious
volumes,-——to dig up and scatter abroad the bones of Amaury of
Dinant, who had first taught their doctrines. Thought was still
free; and in that day free thought meant the reduction of all
questions to the test of syllogistic disputation, the exaggeration of
every minute subtlety of metaphysics into a point of faith, and the
reckless employment on all occasions of accusations of heresy and
threats of excommunication. The minds of the schoolmen were
not steadied by patient research, or wide knowledge of facts;
Roger Bacon declares that all the substantial acquisitions of
, mathematics, grammar, and natural science, could be imparted to
an apt pupil in the course of a few hours. On this slender founda-
tion were raised the endless folios of conclusions and disputations ;.
in this narrow field were fought the battles described with Homeric
detail by the biographer of Duns Scotusfiie Whole cities went out
to welcome this Diomede of the schools, to gaze with reverence on
the man who could “ break two hundred of the knottiest syllo-
gisms as if theyiwere threads ;”—how often are the twelve folios of
the works of Scotus disturbed on the shelves of our libraries ?
In the beginning of the fourteenth century the debates of the
University, and especially those of the faculty of theology held
at the Sorbonne, were made to embrace many questions beyond
the proper domain of scholars. As the Church Courts, by insisting
on the fact of sin as implied in all injustice, arrogated to themselves
* \Vadrling, in Opp. D. Scot, describes him riding slowly to the combat on his
mule. An image of the Virgin graciously inclinedits head to him. The statue may
be seen to this day, the head still inclined. - , '
D
2.6
an almost unlimited juriSdiction, so did the Theological Doctors,
by representing all error as heresy, justify their claim 'to decide on
all kinds of questions. Forty years after Becket was canonized,
the Universityof Paris debated as to the fateof his soul; and in
numerous discussions of like nature, opinions were pronounced on
the actions of living or dead sovereigns and prelates. The Univer-
sity was as omnipotent in all matters of opinion as were the lawyers
in the practical government. How far the lawyers were under
University influence it is not easy to decide. Many of them had
profited by the schools 'of Canon Law; but they showed little of
the spirit which could skilfully adapt the heterogeneous absurdities
‘ of the decretals to the exigencies of policy; their aim was not to
acquire power, but to fortify, by means of legal and orderly
institutions, the power which was already centred in the king.
. As they succeeded, they came more and more to be the rivals of
the University, and at last, in the fifteenth century, the Parlement
of Paris was able to assert distinctly its superiority of jurisdic-
tion.
In the year ,1 802, many things were begun which neither that
century nor the next was able to finish. The battle of Courtrai
and the invitation of the burgesses to the States General were
'proofs of the strength of the popular principle; Philip’s refusal to
sanction the title of .the Bishopric of Pamiers, the trial of Bernard
of Saisset by royal commission, the tax on Church property, and
the prohibition against sending money to the Pope, were the first
acts of a policy which was finally successful in the measures of the
French Revolution. There must have been special causes at work
in France to produce the strength exhibited in these achievements.
In the preceding century, no single sovereign could have defied
the power of the Pope, the rights of the barons, and the resistance
of the towns of Flanders. Philip the Fair was able to meet his
adversaries and subdue them one after the other, because he had
founded or extended institutions which sent government officers
through the whole country, and bound the nation together, if it
were only in financial union.
Philip’s disregard of Papal authority was displayed in the affair
of the Pamiers Bishopric and in the assistance *he gave to the
':rebellious house of Colonna. Boniface had thought of reasserting
his failing supremacy and rousing the religious enthusiasm of France
by preclaiming a Crusade. But he was conjuring with a broken
spell ; Philip had neither the imagination nor the heart of St. Louis ;
and the people, ground down by poverty and harassed by constant
exactions, could not rise again as they had risen at Clermont. The .
next expedient that suggested itself wasa Council, to consider the
ecclesiastical affairs of France; and in this assembly Boniface
promised that the Bishops, the Orders, and the University should
all 'be fairly represented. To this proposal the Bishops replied,
defending 'the"a0ts of the King, and giving it as their opinion that
\~
.21
a'r'Council was not'necessary. The Noblesse" and the Tiers ‘état‘
wrote to the same effect to the College of Cardinals. Boniface
reiterated the summons, and, finding himself in accord with all the
Cardinals, was emboldened to use very strong language as to the
sacredness of his authority and the guilt of the King of France in
resisting it. When the Papal missive reached Paris, all disguise
was thrown off ; the Bull summoning the Council was burnt at the
door of the Palais, and a falsified and exaggerated copy was
circulated to inflame the popular feeling against the Pope. At the
next meeting of the States General then in session, the King,“
supported by the opinion of the University, put up William of
Vezenobre to accuse Boniface of heresy,‘witchcraft, and converse
with familiar demons. The Pope’s conduct had been marked
throughout by the indecision natural to conscious weakness; the ‘
uncompromising utterances of the Bull Clerz'cz's Laioos had been
succeeded by a show of moderation and requests for permission to
explain; and these comparatively humble expressions were again
followed by the haughty summons to all the clergy of France to
attend at Rome, to pronounce judgment on their king. But the
royal cause was prosecuted by Flotte and N ogaret with lawyer-like
persistency ; they found no lack of forms to ustify their procedings.
The proposed Council did actually take place ; a number of French
prelatesobeyed the call of the Pope; and the result was the Bull
Unam Sanctam, in which the doctrine of the superiority of the
spiritual power is stated in its extreme form. Cardinal John le
Moine was commissioned to convey this document to the King, and
to demand answers from him to twelve questions drawn up by
the Pope and the Council. Philip answered in moderate terms,
thus gaining time to hold a council at the Louvre, at which two
Archbishops and three Bishops declared their adherence to his
cause, while William of Nogaret, Doctor of Laws, clzevalz'er, went
even further; declaring his readiness to prove Boniface guilty of
simony and heresy, and urging the King to demand a General
Council. Such was the state of affairs when the States General
held their first session in the Louvre. The King had already been
excommunicated; but the act had made little stir, the bearer of the
interdict having been arrested before he could reach Paris. The
memorial of Vezenobre had obtained the consent of the States, the
Bishops included; and the University was admitted by the King
to a public audience, at which they signified their approval of
what had been done. Discussions seem to have been held in the
Schools with the design of placing the arguments against the Pope
in the most inexpugnable form. The example of the University
was followed by the Chapter of Paris, the Dominicans, and the
University of Toulouse. Boniface, unmoved by these censures,
* It is worth remarking, that the Noblesse required an interpreter to explain the
reply of the Cardinals, which was in Latin. '
2.8.
aimed a blow‘ at the strongest point of the opposing ranks, 3wh-en7he
interdicted the licensing authorities throughout France from all
exercise of their right in respect of Masters of Theology and Canon
Law. _ ,
Both parties were now tired of a struggle which admitted of-
being prolonged indefinitely, so long as only the ordinary weapons
of ecclesiastical debate were used. Nogaret was despatched to force
the Pope to convoke a Council. The unmerciful lawyer displayed-
little of the reverent courtesy with which Boniface expected to be
treated ; and Sciarra Colonna., who accompanied him, was guilty not
“only of rudeness but of brutality. He is said to have struck the. aged
priest a blow with his mailed hand. Boniface, impotent to resent
the insult, took to his bed, and died. His heart had been broken
by rage and grief. His successor immediately recalled the Bulls
by which he had sought to injure the French Universities.
The University of Paris was now at the height of its power.-
Prince‘s and Cardinals continued to enrich it with their donations,
until the Colleges almost outnumbered the Churches, and the
scholars’ town, extended far beyond the old enclosure of Philip
Augustus, seemed likely to rival in mass and population the town
of the merchants. When Clement V. raised his own School of
Orleans to the dignity of a University, he was careful to secure by
special ordinance the supremacy and peculiar privileges of the
older establishment; and these ordinances were confirmed and
protected by John XXII. Special precautions were taken against
the assumption by unworthy persons of the title of scholar; and
the orders were enjoined to take the prescribed oath of allegiance
before performing the duties of any scholastic office. So great was
the dignity of the University, that the King of England complained
to the Pope that his own Oxford was unjustly slighted by the
preference given everywhere to Paris Masters. No doctrine or
opinion could be counted orthodox until it had stood the rigorous
test of the Sorbonne; every ecclesiastical process and question of
importance was formulated by the Doctors of Theology. When the
King and his servant the Pope set about the destruction of the
Templars, the University was asked to draw up the articles of
indictment ; the “ Olementines ” and the ‘5 Extravagantes Joannis ”
date from Paris rather than from Avignon. In the war main-
tained against the Towns of Flanders, the University did its part.
The Towns failed in war, because a republic cannot support a
standing army or a fighting nobility; they failed in peace, because
the republican principle was not compatible with the unity of the
Church, and of catholic unity the University was the chief defender.
, ,As we proceed with the history of the fourteenth century,
academic annals seem to offer less of general interest. An estab-
lished institution working by rule, whose action may be predicted
with some degree 10f certainty, will not move Europe as did the
~free eloquence of the 'earlier SchOolmen,‘ or the young enthusiasm
29.
of the Republic of “Letters. ' The University, having been the ally'of
royalty when the King was the champion of the nation, continued
its support under the feudal reaction to the military rule of the
Valois, thus placing itself in opposition to the rising liberty of the
towns, represented by Etienne Marcel, and to the cause of the
common people, desperately defended by the J acquerie. The lower
orders in France were too much exhausted to supply many students;
the English wars kept foreigners from resorting in numbers to
Paris. Oxford began to put in a claim to be considered as the
chief school of Europe; the fame of Duns Scotus, champion of the
Immaculate Conception, and the interest of the new views now
prevailing among the Franciscans, centred in the English Univer-
sity, where thirty thousand students gathe1"ed--“ to learn bad
Latin and worse logic,” as Speed sarcastically phrases it. . .
From Oxford came, shortly after the accession of Philip of Valois,
the most famous pupil of Duns Scotus, William of Ockham. His
career in England had been stormy, and he arrived at Paris in
time for an exciting controversy. The Pope, John XXIL, had
committed himself to heretical views on the subject of Beatific
Vision ; and the General of the Franciscans was preaching in. his
support. The aifair was important enough to call for a par-
ticularly formal and dignified Council, including the princes of the
blood, the great clergy, and twenty-three Doctors of the Univer-
sity, assembled at the king’s mansion of Vincennes. In this and
in other discussions of the time, William of Ockham, the “ Invin;
cible Doctor,”* and his fellow-disciple the “ perspicuous ” Burleigh,
took 'a prominent part. In philosophy, William went far beyond
his master in boldness; he is the true founder of the sect of the
Nominalists, whose opinions had been in part anticipated by Roscelin
and Abelard. Nor was be less independent in practical matters;
he denounced, in spite of Pope and Faculty, the acquisition of
wealth by his own Franciscan order, and denied emphatically the
claims put forward, harmlessly enough so far as the Avignon Popes
were concerned, in favour of the spiritual power. The University
authorities succeeded in banishing him from the schools, and
forbade the use of his writings by other teachers; the Pope carried
out the sentence by formal act of excommunication. The only
refuge left for the heretic was the court of the Emperor, Ludwig
of Bavaria. That sovereign was then in the heat of that struggle
with Avignon, which was to result in an inefi’ectual Antipope, and
an equally ineffectual vPfaf/‘eui'a2'ser, in excommunication of the
Emperor, and the open disregard of that document expressed in
the Diet. Germany welcomed the aid of the Invincible Doctor;
and in that stormy region William of Ockham lived more or less
prosperousiy, and at last died, still under the ban of the Church.
The chief literary service of this stout English Cordelier was his
*. Wedding, Annalee Minorum.
.301,
1
attack upon the Canon Law. It had been the policy of the Church‘-
to make use of discreditable fictions to extend that legal power
which was strong enough to stand on its own merits, at least till
its place could be supplied by civil government. The compilation
of Isidore in the time of Charles the Great, enlarged in the twelfth
century by Gratian, the Benedictine Professor of Bologna, and
arranged by Ivo of Chartres and the Dominican Raymond dc
Pennaforte, was full of gross inconsistencies and historical blunders;
and the supplements added by the Avignon Popes are not con-
ceived in the spirit of wise jurisprudence- But the regularity and
justice of Church Courts were conspicuously superior to the rude
methods of feudal arbitration ; and, where the judges of professedly'
civil courts were Churchmen, it could not be expected that two
systems of law should continue to be administered by the same
oflicers. No contemporary court exhibits anything to compare in
diligence, equity, and trustworthiness, with the Consist-ory of Inno-
cent III. ; and the Popes, from Gregory VII. onward, deserved, by
their judicial labours alone, the gratitude of Europe. But the
ecclesiastical forms, handled by men imbued with the narrow logic
of the schools, gave endless opportunity for chicane and special
pleading; the procedure of Church Courts became intricate and
slow; judges were multiplied, and cases arrogated by unreasonable
pretexts; and the jurisdiction acquired for the protection of the
ministers of the truth was too often abused for the purpose of gain-
ing the administration of rich men’s wills, and the fines of wealthy
delinquents. Nor were these practices confined to the judges;
a host of unworthy persons (“butchers and innkeepers,” the
histories say) were permitted to assume the privileged title of
“clerks.” Hincmar pretested against the system, for himself and
his sovereign; and St. Bernard lamented the abuses, which he
feund himself forced to consider as inevitable. But the technicali-
ties of law were maintained for a time by the politicians who made
them the basis of intrigue ; the German Princes were often glad of
any excuse to justify them in proceeding against their Emperor ;
the Bishops were in a somewhat similar position with respect to
their Metropolit-ans. If any sovereign attempted fundamental
reform, his efforts were frustrated so soon as any reverse brought
him within the power of the Papal agents. The Constitutions
of Clarendon were rejected by the Oonsistory, and abandoned by
, King Henry, after the royal cause had been weakened by the
mistake committed in the murder of Becket. '
'Various effective attacks had somewhat shaken the hold of this
oppressive jurisdiction. The nobles of France had once appointed
a commission to watch the proceedings of the Church Courts ; and
the rising influence of the lawyers was steadily hostile to the rival
courts. The Speculum Jam's of Durantis, published in 1272, con-
tains a sound and wonderfully moderate statement of the true
principles of law, and points out, directly and by implication, the
3'1
.‘deficiencies of ecclesiastical tribunals. In the same cause was
written the famous “ Dialogue ” of William of Ockham. It is less
b-gimoderate, as might be expected, but far more plain and fercible,
than the Speculum Jam's. All the forces of logic, invective, and
satire are concentrated upon a single Canon, which forms the main
subject of the piece. It was only surpassed by the Somm'um
Vzirz'darii, written by the legal friends of King Charles V. (1376).
'In these works we have the description of that conflict of laws
which gives to this period of history a certain air 'of anarchy
and lawless commotion. On the mind of Dante this anarchy made
a deep impression ;-he had seen much of the great movements of
the time, had mixed in the faction fights of Italian cities, and the
debates of the University of France, maturing the opinion natural
to his austere and lofty spirit, that only the strength of 'a true
Empire would avail to restore the balance of the world. -
The numbers of the students at Paris had been seriously
affected by the long and disastrous wars with England; they were
still farther reduced by the terrible calamities of the Plague. Of
the “ fifty thousand buried in great pits” in the fields near
the town, a considerable number must have been scholars. The
bands of maddened fanatics who traversed the country, chanting
wild penitential hymns, and furiously scourging themselves with
triple iron-pointed lush, would occasionally take their way through
Paris; and the younger scholars congregated to witness the
entrance of the black-robed Flagellants, to stare at the hideous
banners and long funereal tapers of the procession. The more
excitable must often have been carried away by that popular
frenzy which enabled the fanatic preachers to “ draw as many as ten
thousand persons to follow them by one sermon.” But the authori—
ties continued to protest against these blind and fatal excesses; the
Sorbonne condemned the Flagellants, as the Masters of an earlier
date had condemned the Children’s Crusade?“ The Medical
Faculty drew up a long account of the causes of the Plague; and
this curious document, though it suggested no very effectual
remedy or precaution, reassured the minds of men by representing
the pestilence as a natural event, subject to discoverable law.
The sorrows of the Plague are succeeded by a brief period of
prosperous recovery. Charles V. lacked the strength of will
necessary to a ruler in such times; but he was an enlightened
patron of learning, and the administration of his legal advisers was
of permanent benefit to the country. He founded the Royal
Library, graciously received the representatives of the University,
and protected the scholars against the ingenious devices by which
the farmers of the taxes evaded the ordinances of exemption.
The list of the books copied for this king proves that the times had
"F 1212. In the story of this Crusade, mention is made of a certain Caliph, who
“ had studied at Paris.” I find no mention of him elsewhere. _ ‘ ‘ _‘ _ H
32
changed since the day when the Bible, the “ Sentences,” and the
.“ Summa Vitiorum,” were held to form a great library. Petrarch,
who visited Paris on a political embassy, was enthusiastic in the
cause of ancient learning; the Renaissance began to be possible.
It was natural that literary men, who had often to depend on the
liberality of patrons, should attach themselves to kings and princes,
rather than to the leaders of popular movements in favour of
national institutions. The University had always stood by the
King against the Town and its Provost; they now supported by
the weight of their opinions the Dauphin who encouraged the
assassination of Etienne Marcel; they viewed with satisfaction
the defeat of Philip van Arteveld at Rosebecque, which brought -
about the degradation and spoliation of the burg-hers of Paris
by the uncles of the young king.9f The weakness of the Town
had enabled them to force the oath prescribed by statute to the
Provost, even on the notorious Hugh Aubriot,a man beloved
by the merchants in spite of (perhaps in some degree because
of) his drunken extravagances ; -—-not_able to‘ posterity as the
builder of the Bastille St. Antoine. » ' '
The importance attached to the opinion of the Doctors is well
illustrated by an incident of the rivalry of the Dukes of Orleans
and Burgundy. The murder of Louis of Orleans had raised a'
storm of indignation before which even John the Fearless, Duke
of Burgundy, was obliged to retreat. When he returned to Paris
he secured, by what means or arguments is not known, the services
of John Petit, Doctor of Theology; a Council was held in the
-Hotel St. P01, and the learned advocate pronounced a discourse,
divided under many heads, in which he proved to his own and his
patron’s satisfaction the lawfulness of killing a “ tyrant,” and
compared the Duke of Burgundy to the archangel Michael who
had fought with Satan. .The formalised inhumanity of this dis-
course provoked much indignation, and a certain John Gerson,
member of the University and curate of St. Evré, denounced so
openly and forcibly the doctrines of Petit that the partisans of
Burgundy attacked and pillaged his house. We shall hear of
John Carson and of this question again in connection with the
'C-oimcil of Constance. _ .
For more than thirty years all Europe wasdivided and harassed
by the troubles connected with the great Papal schism. Gregory
XI. was persuaded by the prayers of the people of Rome and the
'visions of saintly women-1' to return to the ancient capital of
Christianity ; and on his death the conclave was beset by a furious
crowd, threatening to “make the Cardinals’ skulls redder than
their hats ” if they did not receive a Roman Pope. The French
' Bulaeus, writing in 1679, and Crévier in 1761, are not free from this feeling
of partisanship. _ i v _
‘ 14 St. Bridget and St. Catherine of Sienna. On his death-bed, Gregory warned his
friends to beware of visions. ' ’
33
Cardinals yielded so far as to permit the election of Urban VI. ;
but as soon as they could meet in safety at a distance from Rome
they addressed a letter to the sovereigns of Europe and the Univer-
sities, describing the “ horrible and sacrilegious fury ” of the mob ;-'
they then proceeded to a new election, overcoming the opposition
of their Italian colleagues by promising each of them the election—
if he would only keep the arrangement a profound secret from the
others. This device was successful, and a Frenchman was made
Pope, under the name of Clement VII. France secured the
allegiance of Spain and Scotland, while Germany, England, and
the North took part with Urban. It seemed as if the rival Popes
vied With each other in disgracing the dignity claimed by both.
While Urban, devoured by an impotent and reckless resentment
against those who doubted his authority, was purchasing by ex-
communicatiOns and blessings the allegiance of Charles de Duras,
Clement at Avignon was executing with slavish submission the
orders of the King, and making the benefices and bishoprics of
France the reward of dissipated and extravagant courtiers. Boni-
face IX. the successor of Urban cared less for power than for
money ; h made the Apostolic Chamber a great market, in which
benefices, fndulgences, and benedictions were sold at a fixed tariff.
No sovereign in Europe was powerful enough to repress these evils.
Germany was under the drunken rule of Wenzel; Richard II.
occupied the throne of England ; and Charles of France, who had
seemed disposed to work for the restoration of peace, was now a
madman under custody of the Duke of Anjou, whose attempts on
Naples were best forwarded by the continuance of the schism.
There was only one power that could restore the unity of the
Church, and that power was the University. - i
In a meeting held in 1394 the Doctors of Paris agreed to place
before the rival Popes the alternative of resignation of one, or
arbitration, by a special tribunal or by a General Council. The
famous Doctor Clemangis laid this proposal before the King; but a
new attack of Charles’s malady placed power once more in the
hands of the Duke of Anjou, who haughtily desired the University
not to meddle with matters beyond the province of the schools.
Meantime Boniface IX. had been succeeded by Innocent VII.,
and Innocent by Gregory XII. ; while the chair of Clement VII.
at Avignon was taken by Peter de Luna (Benedict XIII), the
most scholarly, shrewd, and obstinate of Arragonese noblemen.
France made an attempt to close the controversy by acknowledging
Gregory (1398) ; but Benedict was not easily disposed of. To the
deputies of the University he replied with copious eloquence: It
was matter of conscience with him to retain the sacred authority
granted to him; he had indeed sworn to resign if the peace of the
Church required it, but how could the peace of the Church be
secured by the degradation of its true earthly Head? Besieged
in Avignon, he abated not a jot of his obstinacy; his small spare
E
34
frame seemed able to stand any hardships, and while they were
pulling down the beams of his palace for lack of fuel, the inflexible
pontiff appeared daily on the walls with “ bell, book, and candle,”
to anathematise his enemies. . -
In 1406, a Council was held at Paris, in the presence ‘of the King,
the Princes, and the Parlement. Pierre-aux-boeufs, the great
Franciscan preacher, and Doctor Petit (not yet notorious as the
defender of Burgundy), demanded the resignation of Benedict,
according to the oath he had taken to restore the peace of the
Church at any sacrifice. In the same sense spoke Simon Cramaud,
patriarch of Alexandria, a man of so much dignity in the Church
that he took precedence on one occasion of both King and Emperor.
The distinguished orator began with a compliment to the Univer-
sity, which, he said, had been esteemed by Julius Caesar, who
removed it from Athens to Rome, and by the Emperor Charles,
who removed it from Rome to Paris, as one of the noblest jewels
of the crown. He then proceeded to express very advanced views
on the relation of the spiritual to the temporal power, and declared
that the University was bound to prosecute Benedict as a heretic,
and the secular princes to force his compliance. John J uvenal des
' Ursins, the King’s advocate, offered to prove that the temporal power
might summon Councils; and Peter d’Ailly, Bishop of Cambray,
one of the most famous sons of the University, spoke more moder-
ately to the same effect. The solitary apologist of the Avignon
pontiff seems to have been Filastre, Dean of Rheims, who pointed
out that if the Pope should excommunicate them the act would
take effect, the power of the keys being inalienable. But an
unlucky comparison of King Charles with Uzziah drew down on
Filastre the indignation of the assembly, and h1s speech ended
with a somewhat lame attempt to excuse his freedom of speech.
The Council resulted in a formal withdrawal of the French Church
from all acknowledgment of Benedict, who immediately proceeded
to excommunicate all the authors of this “heresy,” “whether
Cardinals, Archbishops, Princes, Kings, or Emperors.”
The leaders of the University now addressed themselves to the
Cardinals, who were known to be extremely anxious to end a schism
which involved them in constant troubles. At last, in 1409, a
General Council was assembled at Pisa, to which a regular deputa-
tion was sent from Paris, including the Rector of the previous year,
two Doctors of Theology, two of Canon Law, one of Medicine, and
four Masters of Arts ; a great number of Doctors attending with-
out any special commission. There was little difference of opinion
among the members of the Council; Gregory and Benedict were
deposed by an almost unanimous vote, and Peter de Candia, a
Franciscan monk of Milan, was chosen Pope, and took the title of
Alexander V. ‘ The new-made pontiff was eager to exercise his
authority in favour of his own Order, and by his exertions the
Council was speedily dissolved. Both the depbsed Popes refused
35
to submit to a body which had not been duly sanctioned; they held
little meetings of their own partisans which they called (Ecumenical
Councils, while the Council of Pisa was to them only a “con-
venticle ; ” and their resistance was strengthened by the action of
the Emperor Rupert, who had not been acknowledged by the
majority of those who concurred in the election of Alexander V.
N or was the difficulty diminished when the very next year (1410)
Alexander died, and Balthazar Cossa, a man of depraved morals
and gross incapacity, suspected with good reason of having poisoned
his predecessor, assumed the Papal dignity under the title of
John XXIII. I
The crusade preached by the new Pope against Ladislaus; the
tumult excited in Bohemia by the daring opposition of John Huss,
Rector of the University of Prague, to the Papal Bulls; the
increasing prevalence of the independent doctrines of Wycliffe in
England ;-—these belong not to our special subject, but to general
history. It is impossible to compress into a few sentences even the
barest summary of the distracting questions of the time. Instead
of a wise and united government which might deal firmly and suc-
cessfullywith a Church torn by internal strife, and almost ruined
by the ignorance and corruption of her ministers, the world saw
only Pope John at Bologna, given up to every vice, only rousing
himself to hurl anathema at his rivals or at the victorious captor
of Rome, Pope Gregory at Rimini, and Pope Benedict on his
solitary rock at Peniscola, cursing aloud the princes, priests, and
peoples who had deserted them.
At last, in 1413, the new Emperor Sigismund, strong in his
ambition to reform, met with Pope John at Lodi, and there,
expressing in the form of a prayer what was really a demand,
obtained permission to convoke a General Council. To this he
summoned the princes and great clergy of Europe, special letters
being sent to the King of France and the University of Paris. In
the end of the year 1414, the roads round the little town of
Constance were thronged with a great multitude of priests and
nobles. The quiet streets, the gabled mansions of the market-
place, and the abbeys overhanging the lake, were soon filled to
overflowing; wooden sheds were built along the lake and up
the hillside, till the size of the town seemed doubled; for the
members of the Council came not unattended,—a host of players,
musicians, grooms, lackeys, cooks,——numbers of persons, too, of
character little befitting a gathering of Churchmen,--came in the
train of the rich abbots and the “infinite multitude ” of doctors.
Sigismund entered, blazing in scarlet robes, full of a royal kind of
eloquence,—though his grammar may be here and there defective;
Pope John was already settled in a mansion in the market~place,
with a great retinue. At last on a Saturday afternoon late in
February (1415), comes the University deputation—John Gerson,
Chancellor of N otre Dame, and four other Doctors—a power
36
as great in the Council as either Pope or Emperor, for they repre-
sented not only the liberties of the Gallican Church, but the
dignity of their king, and the true interests of their nation. John
received them on Sunday morning in full Consistory, surrounded
by a brilliant court of priests and nobles. He professed himself
willing to do anything they thought right. He would even resign,
if they approved of that course. He then requested that some~
member of the deputation should pronounce a suitable discourse,
on which Doctor John D’Achéry, taking for his text: “With
desire we have desired to see thy face,” reasoned thereon in a sum-
mary manner, leaving the more exhaustive treatment of the theme
to the learned Chancellor. After dinner, the deputation waited on
the Emperor, and were received with great consideration ; Doctor
Benedict Gentiani preaching from the text : “ Now is the accepted
time.”
It had been already decided that the Council should vote in four
N ations—F rench, German, English, and Italian. Of the last
named the Pope was certain; the three others were against him.
He began to fear not only for his title, but for his personal safety;
he convoked his friends, and sat with them late at night, devising
plots for regaining his lost position. At last he surrendered
himself to despair; and while the Emperor was engaged at a
great feast, the Pope was making his way out of the town in
disguise, resolved to throw himself on the protection of Frederick
of Austria. The Cardinals, led by Zabarella of Florence, were in
some doubt, and seemed to think the Council at an end; but
the Emperor, in an address to the Nations assembled in the
Cathedral, and Gerson, in a powerful sermon delivered the next
Sunday, declared that the withdrawal of the Pope made no
difference, that the Council was independent, and would proceed to
its duties on its own responsibility. The flight of John was
followed by the famous Fifth Session of the Council, from which
dates the complete separation of the Gallican and Ultramontane
parties. On the one side were the University deputies, Peter
D’Ailly, Cardinal of Cambrai, called the “Eagle of France,” and
William F ilastre, now Cardinal of St. Marc, the quondam apologist
of Benedict; on the other, the Italian Cardinals, occasionally
assisted by Simon Cramand.
The time of the Council was wasted and the spirit of its leaders
exhausted by the vain disputes arising out of the still existing
schism. The indefatigable Emperor obtained special powers and
consecration, and set off to visit, if possible, all the parties in the
complicated suit. Benedict he found entrenched in an obstinacy
unassailable by argument. The capitulation of N arbonne seemed
to settle terms of resignation; but the old man retired once more
to his Castle of Peniscola, unmoved and immovable. The King of
France was rendered hostile by Sigismund’s somewhat arrogant
behaviour at Paris; Henry V. of England signed the Treaty
37
of Canterbury in hopes to gain a powerful ally against France;
but his subsequent proceedings showed that there was no real
union between him and the Emperor. But the formal difficulties
at least were removed; and on Sigismund’s return, the Cardinals
proceeded, with every kind of ceremony and precaution, to the
election of a new Pope. Their choice fell on an Italian, one of the
Colonnas, the ancient enemies of Rome, and Martin V. was greeted
with loud acclamations by a crowd of “not less than 80,000
persons.” He was a man of intelligence and candour, but his
dilatory and obstructive conduct proved that no worse leader could
have been chosen for the reforms that were so necessary. ,
The schism was thus brought to an end, though in a somewhat
unsatisfactory manner. There were other questions before the
Council of almost equal importance. Small matters, such as the
troubles of the Teutsch Ritterschaft, were soon disposed of. There
remain to be noticed the heresy of Wycliffe, Huss, and Jerome,
and the comprehensive proposals for Church Reform.
It is no part of our present task to trace the events which.
followed the Protestant preaching of Wycliffe in England, or
the triumphs and sorrows of the Bohemian. Evangelists. The
point that most concerns us is one affecting the character of
Gerson and D’Ailly, the two great representatives of the Univer-
sity in the Council. How was it that men whom we know to have
been by nature kind-hearted and just, joined in a persecution.
which can reflect nothing but disgrace on its authors P If John
Huss had been all that his worst enemies thought him, we should
still be obliged to view with indignation and even horror the
inhumanity and unfairness of his judges. We cannot believe what
has been suggested of the jealousy entertained by the Paris
Doctors of the academic reputation of Huss and of his still more
brilliant disciple Jerome. There were far stronger motives at
work. The Gallican divines combined with their zeal of reforma-
tion an almost unbounded reverence for the authority of the
Church; and the fact that they found themselves in the position
' of heretics, only made them cling with more desperate tenacity to
the ancient beliefs and institutions which they held sacred. Gerson
wished to reform, not to destroy; and he imagined that if he
passed the narrow limit which separated him from Huss, he would
become a destroyer, and thereby lose all hope of that Catholic
revival of the Church by the Church which was the purpose of his
life. No enemies of the Church seemed to him so dangerous.
as those who strove to bring about the reformation by giving up
any fraction of that traditional obedience which seemed to him the
divine order given for the safety of the Christian polity. Why
then should he spare those whose rash and ignorant efforts were
retarding the attainment of the noblest end of human endeavour ?
Thus did Gerson reason, in an age when even the best men
had few humanitarian scruples about the infliction of suffering
38~
or even death on the unworthy; and the strong statesman was not
likely to be affected by that extreme sensitiveness which caused the
death of one English Bishop after the execution of John Huss.
Causis and Paletz, the rivals and accusers of the two heretics
of Prague, exhibit only narrow and malicious ealousy ; the Doctors,
' who “ roared like wild beasts ” at the moderate and dignified
sentences of the defence, were guilty of gross violence and injustice.
In the conduct of Gerson we would rather see the mistaken
determination of a truly great and resolute mind.
The most complicated and serious task of the Council was the
reform of Church discipline, and the restoration of purity and
order among the corrupted priesthood. The intrigues connected
with the schism seemed more important to the eyes of politicians,
but this was really the question of the time. In the terrible
descriptions of Clemangis and the not less emphatic language of
Gerson we have presented to us the picture of the worst degradation
to which the priesthood have ever descended. The secular clergy
lived in open defiance of the order of celibacy; promotion was
obtained by shameless simony; and the Apostolic Chamber was
the chief emporium of the trade ; the monasteries had become the
resting-place of ignorance and sloth, and the secure home of every
vice. To deal with such complicated iniquities was not possible
for a large assembly; the Council therefore appointed a College of Reformation, of three Cardinals and four Doctors from each Nation,
which continued its labours for two years and a half. Its exertions
must be allowed to have ended in failure. Points of reform were
soon agreed upon ; it was determined that Councils should be held
more regularly; that the power of dispensation and the right of -
appeal to Rome should be strictly limited; that all questions con-
cerning tithes should be settled by Councils and not by the Pope.
But to effect these changes, Council and College were powerless;
and it was soon apparent that neither the Pope nor the great clergy
would take up the work with any degree of energy. The services
of the French leaders in respect of this movement are tobe esti-
mated rather by the eflect their sermons and writings produced
among the best men of the time, than by any special improvements
which they were able to effect.
The affair of Doctor John Petit, before alluded to, was the
subject of a violent discussion in the Council. The notorious
defence of Burgundy had been condemned by the University, and
afterwards by a “Council of the Faith,” held at Paris at the
instance of the King. Gerson now applied to have the sentence
confirmed by the Cardinals whom the Council had chosen to be
a “ Commission of the Faith,” to examine all new and heretical
doctrines. But the application was not to go unopposed; Martin
Poreous, Bishop of Arras, Peter Conchas (afterwards notorious as
the Bishop of Beauvais who condemned Joan of Arc), and John de
Rocha, Theologian of Toulouse, appeared in defence of Petit ; the
Duke of Burgundy arrived in the neighbourhood of Constance,
39
“ stag-hunting in the forest of Argilly,” ostensibly, but really for
the purpose of bribing and terrifying the Council. Gerson’s
position was peculiarly grievous; he had gratefully received much
kindness from the late Duke, whose son he now felt himself obliged
to denounce. Four and twenty times did he debate the question, .
in spite of every threat and insult. At last the University of Paris,
gained over to the Burgundian interest, disowned its Chancellor,
and revoked his commission to the Council. Gerson still persisted,
until he was'forced to turn his attention to a charge of heresy
preferred against himself. D’Ailly had been included in the
indictment; but his dignity as Cardinal protected him; Poreous
and Rocha proceeded to accuse Gerson, the “light of the Council,”
the mighty destroyer of heretics, of twenty-five distinct errors in
doctrine. He was acquitted, but the treatment he had experienced
during the trial caused him to exclaim bitterly: “ That he would
rather have Jews and Pagans to judge him than the deputies of
the Council.” The new Pope finally refused to condemn either .
the discourse of Petit or the equally offensive treatise of the monk
Falkenberg in defence of the cruelties of the Teutsch Ritterschaft.
Thus the great Council ended, in failure and disappointment.
The reform of the Church was put off for another century, and the
questions which an assembly of statesmen had been unable to decide
became the excuse for sanguinary and fruitless wars; the sermons
of Huss gave place to the sword of Zisca and the frantic excesses
of the Taborites, and hundreds of churches were fired from the
death-pile of the Bohemian martyrs. Such was the outcome of the
high hopes with which the French reformers had addressed them-
selves to their task. Gerson entered Constance powerful and
respected, the ambassador of his King, the orator of his University,
the representative of his nation: he departed alone, in pilgrim’s
garb, a baffled and almost broken-hearted man. The remainder
of his life was passed in the studies that he loved; in writing his
Consolations of Theology, in the labours of a School formed upon the
model of his own University. His last refuge was a little monastery
of Lyons, of which his brother was prior; his death-bed was sur-
rounded by little children, to whom he had often told the simple
story of the New Testament. Of the sorrows of his country he
could not speak without tears ; and to Gerson it was not the least
of these sorrows that the English conqueror had fixed his seat at
Paris, and that the University was surrendering the liberties for
which it had fought so bravely.
The banished Chancellor did not live to see the day when the
‘lamp of learning was kindled once more in his beloved Schools;
nor could he even dimly anticipate the time when a new life would
be given to his own teaching by the friar of Erfurt, who “knew
the works of Gerson and D’Ailly by heart.” The lessons of that
teaching are not yet exhausted, if we too can look back with sym-
pathy and gratitude upon the men who, in that troubled age,
fought and laboured in the cause of liberty and truth.

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