Saint Anselm — Mediæval Theology (ii)
by John Lord, LL. D.
In the following year Pope Urban died; and in the
following year William Rufus himself was accidentally
killed in the New Forest. His death was not much la-
mented, he having proved hard, unscrupulous, cunning
and tyrannical. At this period the kings of England
reigned with almost despotic power, independent of bar-
ons and oppressive to the people. William had but
little regard for the interests of the kingdom. He built
neither churches nor convents, but Westminster Hall
was the memorial of his iron reign.
Much was expected of Henry I., who immediately
recalled Anselm from Lyons, where he was living in
voluntary exile. He returned to Canterbury, with the
firm intention of reforming the morals of the clergy
and resisting royal encroachments. Henry was equally
resolved on making bishops as well as nobles subser-
vient to him. Of course harmony and concord could
not long exist between such men, with such opposite
views. Even at the first interview of the King with
the Archbishop of Salisbury, he demanded a renewal
of homage by a new act of investiture, which was vir-
tually a continuance of the quarrel. It was, however,
mutually agreed that the matter should be referred to
the new pope. Anselm, on his part, knew that the
appeal was hopeless; while the King wished to gain
time. It was not long before the answer of Pope
Pascal came. He was willing that Henry should have
many favors, but not this. Only the head of the
Church could bestow the emblems of spiritual author-
ity. On receiving the papal reply the King summoned
his nobles and bishops to his court, and required that
Anselm should acknowledge he right of the King to
invest prelates with the badges of spiritual authority.
The result was a second embassy to the Pope, of more
distinguished persons,——Archbishop of York and
two other prelates. The Pope, of course, remained
inflexible. On the return of the envoys a great
council was assembled in London, and Anselm again
was required to submit to the King's will. It seems
that the Pope, from motives of policy (for all the
popes were reluctant to quarrel with princes), had
given the envoys assurance that, so long as Henry
was a good king, he should have nothing to fear from
the clergy.
These oral declarations were contrary to the Pope's
written documents, and this contradiction required a
new embassy to Rome; but in the mean time the
King gave the See of Salisbury to his chancellor, and
that of Hereford to the superintendent of his larder.
When the answer of the Pope was finally received, it
was found that he indignantly disavowed the verbal
message, and excommunicated the three prelates as
liars. But the King was not disconcerted. He sud-
denly appeared at Canterbury, and told Anselm that
further opposition would be followed by the royal
enmity; yet, mollifying his wrath, requested Anselm
himself go to Rome and do what he could with the
Pope. Anselm assured him that he could do nothing
to the prejudice of the Church. He departed, however,
the King obviously wishing him out of the way.
The second journey of Anselm to Rome was a per-
petual ovation, but was of course barren of results. The
Pope remained inflexible, and Anselm prepared to return
to England; but, from the friendly hints of the prelates
who accompanied him, he sojourned again at Lyons
with his friend the archbishop. Both the Pope and the
King had compromised; Anselm alone was straightfor-
ward and fearless. As a consequence his revenues were
seized, and he remained in exile. He had been willing
to do the Pope's bidding, had he made an exception to
the canons; but so long as the law remained in force
he had nothing to do but conform to it. He remained
in Lyons a year and a half, while Henry continued his
negotiations with Pascal; but finding nothing was
accomplished, Anselm resolved to excommunicate his
sovereign. The report of this intention alarmed Henry,
then preparing for a decisive conflict with his brother
Robert. The excommunication would at least be in-
convenient; it might cost him his crown. So he
sought an interview with Anselm at the castle of l'Aigle,
and became outwardly reconciled, and restored to him
his revenues.
"The end of the dreary contest came at last, in 1107,
after vexatious delays and intrigues." It was settled
by compromise,——as most quarrels are settled, as most
institutions are established. Outwardly the King yield-
ed. He agreed, in an assembly of nobles, bishops, and
abbots at London, that henceforth no one should be
invested with bishopric or abbacy, either by king or
layman, by the customary badges of ring and crosier.
Anselm, on his part, agreed that no prelate should be
refused consecration who was nominated by the King.
The appointment of bishops remained with the King;
but the consecration could be withheld by the primate,
since he alone had the right to give the badges of office,
without which spiritual functions could not be lawfully
performed. It was a moral victory to the Church, but
the victory of an unpopular cause. It cemented the
power of the Pope, while freedom from papal interfer-
ence has ever been dear to the English nation.
When Anselm had fought this great fight he died,
1109, in the sixteenth year of his reign as primate of the
Church in England, and was buried, next to Lanfranc,
in his abbey church. His career outwardly is memora-
ble only for this contest, which was afterwards renewed
by Thomas Becket with a greater king than either Wil-
liam Rufus or Henry I. It s interesting, since it was a
part of the great struggle between the spiritual and tem-
poral powers for two hundred years,——from Hildebrand
to Innocent III. This was only one of the phases of
the quarrel,——one of the battles of a long war,——not
between popes and emperors, as in Germany and Italy,
but between a king and the viceregent of a pope; a king
and his subject, that one armed with secular, the other
with spiritual, weapons. It was only brought to an end
by an appeal to the fears of men,——the dread of ex-
communication and consequent torments in hell, which
was the great governing idea of the Middle Ages, the
means by which the clergy controlled the laity. Abused
and perverted as this idea was, it indicates a presup-
poses a general belief in the personality of God, in re-
wards and punishments in a future state, and the neces-
sity of conforming to the divine laws as expounded
and enforced by the Christian Church. Hence the dark
ages have been called "Ages of Faith."
It now remains to us to contemplate Anselm as a
theologian and philosopher,——a more interesting view,
for in this aspect his character is more genial, and his
influence more extended and permanent. He is one of
the first who revived theological studies in Europe. He
did not teach in the universities as a scholastic doctor,
but he was one who prepared the way for universities
by the stimulus he gave to philosophy. It was in his
abbey of Bec that he laid the foundation of a new
school of theological inquiry. In original genius he
was surprised by no scholastic in the Middle Ages,
although both Abélard and Thomas Aquinas enjoyed a
greater fame. It was for his learning and sanctity that
he was canonized,——and singularly enough by Alexan-
der VI., the worst pope who ever reigned. Still more
singular is it that the last of his successors, as abbot of
Bec, was the diplomatist Talleyrand,——one of the most
worldly and secular of all the ecclesiastical dignitaries
of an infidel age.
The theology of the Middle Ages, of which Anselm
was one of the greatest expounders, certainly the most
profound, was that which was systematized by Saint
Augustine from the writings of Paul. Augustine was
the oracle of the Latin Church until the Council of
Trent, and nominally his authority has never been
repudiated by the Catholic Church. But he was no
more the father of the Catholic theology than he was of
the Protestants, as taught by John Calvin: these two
great theologians were in harmony in all essential doc-
trines as completely as were Augustine and Anselm, or
Augustine and Thomas Aquinas. The doctrines of
theology, as formulated by Augustine, were subjects of
contemplation and study in all the convents of the
Middle Ages. In spite of the prevailing ignorance, it
was impossible that inquiring men, "secluded in gloomy
monasteries, should find food for their minds in the dreary
and monotonous duties to which monks were
doomed,——a life devoted to alternate manual labor and
mechanical religious services." There would be some
of them who would speculate on the lofty subjects which
were the constant theme s of their meditations. Bishops
were absorbed in their practical duties as executive
rulers. Village priests were too ignorant to do much
beyond looking after the wants and hinds and peasants.
The only scholarly men were the monks. And although
the number of these was small, they have the honor of
creating the first intellectual movement since the fall of
the Roman Empire. They alone combined leisure with
brain-work. These intellectual and inquiring monks, as
far back as the ninth century speculated on the great
subjects of Christian faith with singular boldness, con-
sidering the general ignorance which veiled Europe in
melancholy darkness. Some of them were logically led
"to a secret mutiny and insurrection" against the doc-
trines which were universally received. This insurrec-
tion of human intelligence gave great alarm to the
orthodox leaders of the Church; and to suppress it
the Church raised up conservative dialecticians as acute
and able as those who strove for emancipation. At first
they used the weapons of natural reason, but afterwards
employed the logic and method of Aristotle, as trans-
lated into Latin from the Arabic, to assist them in their
intellectual combats. Gradually the movement cen-
tred in the scholastic philosophy, as a bulwark to
Catholic theology. But this was nearly a hundred
years after the time of Anselm, who himself was not
enslaved by the technicalities of a complicated system
of dialectics.
Naturally the first subject which was suggested to
the minds of inquiring monks was the being and at-
tributes of God. He was the beginning and end of
their meditations. It was to meditate upon God that
the Oriental recluse sought the deserts of Asia Minor
and Egypt. Like the Eastern monk of the fourth cen-
tury, he sought to know the essence and nature of the
Deity he worshipped. There arose before his mind
the great doctrines of the trinity, the incarnation, and
redemption. Closely connected with these were predes-
tination and grace, and then "fixed fate, free-will, fore-
knowledge absolute." On these mysteries he could not
help meditating; and with meditation came speculation
on unfathomable subjects pertaining to God and his re-
lations with man, to the nature of sin and its penalty,
to the freedom of the will, and eternal decrees.
The monk became first a theologian and then a phi-
losopher, whether of the school of Plato or of Aris-
totle he did not know. He began to speculate on ques-
tions which had agitated the Grecian schools,——the
origin of evil and of matter; whether the world was
created or uncreated; whether there is a distinction be-
tween things visible and invisible; whether we derive
our knowledge from sensation or reflection; whether
the soul is necessarily immortal; how free-will is to be
reconciled with God's eternal decrees, or what the Greeks
called Fate; whether ideas are eternal, or are the crea-
tion of our own minds. These, and other more subtile
questions——like the nature of angels——began to agitate
the convent in the ninth century.
It was then that the monk Gottschalk revived the
question of predestination, which had slumbered since
the time of Saint Augustine. Although the Bishop of
Hippo was the oracle of the Church, and no one dis-
puted his authority, it would seem that his character-
istic doctrine,——that of grace; the essential doctrine
of Luther also,——was never a favorite one wit the
great churchmen of the Middle Ages. They did not
dispute Saint Augustine, but they adhered to penances
and expiations, which entered so largely into the piety
of the Middle Ages. The idea of penances and expia-
tions, pushed to their utmost logical sequence, was sal-
vation by works and not by faith. Grace, as understood
by the Fathers, was closely allied to predestination; it
disdained the elaborate and cumbrous machinery of
ecclesiastical discipline, on which the power of the
clergy was based. Grace was opposed to penance, while
penance was the form which religion took; and as
predestination was a theological sequence of grace, it
was distasteful to the Mediæval Church. Both grace
and predestination tended to undermine the system of
penance then universally accepted. The great church-
men of the Middle Ages were plainly at war with their
great oracle in this matter, without being fully aware
of their real antagonism. So they made an onslaught
on Gottschalk, as opposed to those ideas on which sacerdo-
tal power rested,——especially did Hincmar, Archbishop
of Rhiems, the greatest prelate of the age. Persecuted,
Gottschalk appealed to reason rather than authority,
thus anticipating Luther by five hundred years,——an
immense heresy in the Middle Ages. Hincmar, not
being able to grapple with the monk in argument, sum-
mone to his aid the brightest intellect of that country,
——the first man who really gave an impulse to philo-
sophical inquiries in the Middle Ages, the true founder
of scholasticism.
This man was John Scotus Erigina,——or John the
Erin-born,——who was also a monk, and whose early days
had been spent in some secluded monastery in Ireland,
or the Scottish islands. Somehow he attracted the at-
tention of Charles the Bald, A. D. 843, an became his
guest and chosen companion. And yet, while he lived
in the court, he spent the most of his time in intellec-
tual seclusion. As a guest of the king he may have
become acquainted with Hincmar, or his acquaintance
with Hincmar may have led to his friendship with
Charles. He was witty, bright, and learned, like Abé-
lard, a favorite with the great. In his treatise on
Predestination, in which he combated the views of
Gottschalk, he probably went further than Hincmar
desired or expected: he boldly asserted the supremacy
of reason, and threw off the shackles of authority. He
combated Saint Augustine as well as Gottschalk. He
even aspired to reconcile free-will with the divine sove-
reignty,——the great mistake of theologians in every
age, the most hopeless and the most ambitious effort
of human genius,——a problem which cannot be solved.
He went even further than this: he attempted to har-
monize philosophy with religion, as Abélard did after-
wards. He brought all theological questions to the test
of dialectical reasoning. Thus the ninth century saw a
rationalist and a pantheist at the court of a Christian
king. Like Democritus, he maintained the eternity of
matter. Like a Buddhist, he believed that God is all
things and all things are God. Such doctrines were
not to be tolerated, even in an age when theological
speculations did not usually provoke persecution. Re-
ligious persecution for opinions was the fruit of subse-
quent inquiries, and did not reach its height until the
Dominicans arose in the thirteenth century. But Eri-
gena was generally denounced; he fell under the cen-
sure of the Pope, and, probably on that account, took
refuge about the year 882 in England,——it is said at
Oxford, where there was probably a cathedral school,
but not as yet a university, with its professors' chairs
and scholastic honors. Others suppose that he died in
Paris, 891.
A spirit of inquiry having been thus awakened among
a few intellectual monks, they began to speculate about
those questions which had agitated the Grecian schools:
whether genera and species——called "universals," or
ideas——have a substantial and independent existence,
or whether they are the creation of our own minds;
whether, if they have a real existence, they are ma-
terial or immaterial essences; whether they exist apart
from objects perceptible by the senses. It is singular
that such questions should have been discussed in the
ninth century, since neither Plato nor Aristotle were
studied. Unless in the Irish monastic schools, it may
be doubted whether there was a Greek scholar in
Western Europe,——or even in Rome.
No very remarkable man arose with a rationaliz-
ing spirit, after Erigena, until Berengar of Tours in the
eleventh century, who maintained that in the Sacra-
ment the presence of the body of Christ involves no
change in the nature and essence of the bread and
wine. He was opposed by Lanfranc. But the doc-
trine of transubstantiation was too deeply grounded
in the faith of Christendom to be easily shaken. Con-
troversies seemed to centre around the doctrine of the
real existence of ideas,——what are called "universals,"
——which doctrine was generally accepted. The monks,
in this matter, followed Saint Augustine, who was a
realist, as were also the orthodox leaders of the Church
generally from his time to that of Saint Bernard. It
was a sequence of the belief in the doctrine of the
Trinity.
No one of mark opposed the Realism which had now
become one of the accepted philosophical opinions of
the age, until Roscelin, in the latter part of the eleventh
century, denied that universals have a real existence.
It was Plato's doctrine that universals have an inde-
pendent existence apart from individual objects, and
that they exist before the latter (universalia ANTE rem,
——the thought before the thing); while Aristotle main-
tained that universals, though possessing a real exist-
ence, exist only in individual objects (universalia IN re,
——the thought in the thing). Nominalism is the doc-
trine that individuals only have real existence (univer-
salia POST rem,——the thought after the thing).
It is not probable that this profound question about
universals would have excited much interest among the
intellectual monks of the eleventh century, had it not
been applied to theological subjects, in which chiefly
they were absorbed. Now Roscelin advanced the doc-
trine, that, if the three persons in the Trinity were one
thing, it would follow that the Father and the Holy
Ghost must have entered into the flesh together with
the son; and as he believed that only individuals
exist in reality, it would follow that the three per-
sons of the Godhead are three substances, in fact three
Gods. Thus Nominalism logically led to an assault
on the received doctrine of the Trinity——the central
point in the theology of the Church. This was heresy.
The foundations of Christian belief were attacked, and
no one in that age was strong enough to come to the
rescue but Anselm, then Abbot of Bec.
His great service to the cause of Christian theol-
ogy, and therefore to the Church universal, was his
exposition of thelogical results of the Nominalism of
Roscelin,——to whom universals, or ideas, were merely
creations of the mind, or conventional phrases, having
no real existence. Hence such things as love, friend-
ship, beauty, justice, were only conceptions. Plato
and Augustine maintained that they are eternal veri-
ties, not to be explained by definitions, appealing to
consciousness, in the firm belief in which the soul
sustains itself; that there can be no certain knowl-
edge without a recognition of these; that from these
only sound deductions of moral truth can be drawn;
that without a firm belief in these eternal certitudes
there can be no repose and no lofty faith. These
ideas are independent of us. They do not vary with
our changing sensations; they have nothing to do
with sensation. They are not creations of the brain;
they inherently exist, from all eternity. The substance
of these ideas is God; without these we could not
conceive of God. Augustine especially, in the true
spirit of Platonism, abhorred doctrines which made
the existence of God depend upon our own abstrac-
tions. To him there was a reality in love, in friend-
ship, in justice, in beauty; and he repelled scepticism
as to their eternal existence, as life repels death.
Roscelin took away the platform from whose lofty
heights Socrates and Plato would survey the universe.
He attacked the citadel in which Augustine intrenched
himself amid the desolations of a dissolving world; he
laid the axe at the root of the tree which sheltered all
those who would fly from uncertainty and despair.
But if these ideas were not true, what was true; on
what were the hopes of the world to be based; where
was consolation for the miseries of life to be found?
"There are many goods," says Anselm, "which we
desire,——some for utility, and others for beauty; but
all these goods are relative,——more or less good,——and
imply something absolutely good. The absolute good
——the summum bonum——is God. In like manner all
that is great and high are only relatively great and
high; and hence there must be something absolutely
great and high, and this is God. There must exist
at least one being than which no other s higher;
hence there must be but one such being,——and this
is God."
It was thus that Anselm brought philosophy to the
support of theology. He would combat the philosophi-
cal reasoning of Roscelin with still keener dialectics.
He would conquer him on his own ground and with
his own weapons.
Let it not be supposed that this controversy about
universals was a mere dialectical tournament, with no
grand results. It goes down to the root of almost every
great subject in philosophy and religion. The denial of
universal ideas is rationalism and materialism in phi-
losophy, as it is Pelagianism and Arminianism in the-
ology. The Nominalism of Roscelin appeared in the
Rationalism of Abélard; and, carried out to its severe
logical sequences, is the refusal to accept any doctrine
which cannot be proved by reason. Hence nothing is
to be accepted which is beyond the province of reason
to explain; and hence nothing is to be received by
faith alone. Christianity, in the hands of fearless and
logical nominalists, would melt away,——that is, what
is peculiar in its mysterious dogmas. Its mysterious
dogmas were the anchors of belief in ages of faith. It
was these which animated the existence of such men
as Augustine, Bernard, Anselm, and Thomas Aquinas.
Hence their terrible antagonism even to philosophical
doctrines which conflicted with the orthodox belief,
on which, as they thought, the salvation of mankind
rested.
But Anselm did not rest with combating the Nomi-
nalism of Roscelin. In the course of his inquiries and
arguments he felt t necessary to establish the belief in
God——the one great thing from which all other ques-
tions radiated——by a new argument, and on firmer
ground than that on which it had hitherto rested. He
was profoundly devotional as well as logical, and origi-
nal as he was learned. Beyond all the monks of his
age he lived in the contemplation of God. God was to
hi the essence of all good, the end of all inquiries,
the joy and repose of his soul. He could not under-
stand unless he first believed; knowledge was the
fruit of faith, not the cause. The idea of God in the
mind of man is the highest proof of the existence of
God. That only is real which appeals to conscious-
ness. He did not care to reason about a thing when
reasoning would not strengthen his convictions,per-
haps involve him in doubts and perplexities. Reason
is finite and clouded and warped. But that which di-
rectly appeals to consciousness (as all that is eternal
must appeal), and to that alone, like beauty and justice
asnd love,——ultimate ideas to which reasoning and defi-
nitions add nothing,——is to be received as a final certi-
tude. Hence, absolute certainty of the existence of
God, as it appeals to consciousness,——like the "Cogito,
ergo sum." In this argument he anticipates Descartes,
and proved himself the profoundest thinker of his cen-
tury, perhaps of five centuries.
The deductions which Anselm made from the at-
tributes of God and his moral government seem to
have strengthened the belief of the Middle Ages in
some theological aspects which are repulsive to con-
sciousness,——his stronghold; thereby showing how one-
sided any deductions are apt to be when pushed out to
their utmost logical consequences; how they may even
become a rebuke to human reason in those grand efforts
of which reason is most proud, for theology, it must be
borne in mind, is a science of deductions from acknowl-
edged truths of revelation. Hence, from the imperfec-
tions of reason, or from disregard of other established
theology subordinate to philosophy. It was his main
effort to establish, on rational grounds, the existence of
God, and afterwards the doctrine of the Trinity and
the Incarnation. And yet with Anselm and Roscelin
the Scholastic age began. They were the founders of
the Realists and the Nominalists,——those two schools
which divided the Church in the twelfth and thir-
teenth centuries, and which will probably go on to-
gether, under different names, as long as men shall
believe and doubt. But this subject, on which I have
only entered, must be deferred to the next lecture.
AUTHORITIES.
Church's Life of Saint Anselm; Neander's Church History; Milham's
History of the Latin Church; Stockl's History of the Philosophy of the
Middle Ages; Ueberweg's History of Philosophy; Wordsworth's Ecclesi-
astical Biography; Trench's Mediæval Church History; Digby's Ages of
Faith; Fleury's Ecclesiastical History; Dupin's Ecclesiastical History;
Biographie Universelle; M. Rousselot's Histoire de la Pilosophie du
Moyen Age; Newman's Mission of the Benedictine Order; Dugale's
Monasticon; Hallam's Literature of Europe; Hampden's article on the
Scholastic Philosophy, in Encyclopædia Metropolitana.
from Beacon Lights of History, by John Lord, LL. D.,
Volume III, Part I: The Middle Ages, pp. 192 - 212
©1883, by John Lord.
©1921, By Wm. H. Wise & Co., New York
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