whereas, an appeal to one or two dicta probantia of the Bible would immediately have removed every difficulty.

To us at this day, such barrenness of exegetical resources seems unaccountable. A sufficient reason for it, however, may be assigned. The Scholastic Theology was the first daughter of that revival of letters, which succeeded the darkness produced by the fall of the Western Empire. Other departments of knowledge were gradually cultivated, as one giant struggle was made after another, to grapple with the darkness and expel it. The want of the merit in question is one great reason why these writings are so uninteresting and profitless to us at the present day. We neglect the jewels which are hidden there, because they are embedded in oceans of mud. Had the giant minds of the Middle Ages appealed to the Bible, with proper exegetical qualifications, they would have produced a glorious fabric of intellectual beauty which would have challenged the admiration of all succeeding generations.

The Scholastics indulged, to an absurd degree, a spirit of abstract metaphysical speculation. It had been usual for theological writters, previous to this mode of study, to prove their various positions, chiefly by citations from the Fathers, and the usages of the apostolic era. But now another method was employed, the dialectical art, which soon entirely superseded all others. That those who first employed this art, did not intend that it should be improperly perverted, is evident both from the nature of their own writings, as well as their declarations on the subject.

In the middle of the eleventh century, Berengarius labored to disprove the doctrine of transubstantiation, which was gradually gaining ground in the Church. To accomplish this he used no other arguments than such as were perfectly rational. His opponent, Lanfranc, Archbishop of Canterbury, employed in his replies to him, arguments equally moderate and profound. The latter says himself in his tract De Corpore et Sanguine Domini: "God is my witness, and my own conscience, that in treating sacred subjects I do not wish to bring forward dialectical questions; but if the subject under discussion can be most satisfactorily explained by the rules of this art, as far as I am able, I cover over the art by citations of equivalent import; that I may not rely more upon this art, than on the truth, and on the authority of the Fathers." Peter Lombard declares it to be the aim of his works, fidem nostram adversus errores carnalium atque animalium hominum munire, vel potius munitam ostendere, ac theologicarum inquisitionum abdita aperire. John Gerson says of Bonaventura (Doctor Seraphicus), dum studet illuminationi intellectus, totum refert ad pietatem et religiositatem effectus.*

But soon this commendable example was forgotten. The usual

Thus, too, some of the doctrinal expositions of the Scholastics exhibit a similar simplicity and plainness of speech. St. Thomas, for instance, answers the ques

references to the Scriptures and the Fathers were neglected, and nothing but philosophical proofs received. The greatest of these theologians not only descend to the merest trifles, but cultivate expertness in them, and regard such proficiency as highly meritorious. Yet what could be more unworthy of the dignity of the first of sciences, than inquiries like the following: What are the modes of the operations of angels; their means of conversing; the morning and evening states of their understandings; how many spirits can stand on the point of a needle; whether we are bound to love a possible angel more than an actually existing fly? Some of their hair-splitting distinctions are remarkable, as well as unscriptural. For instance: St. Thomas declares, "that if a priest be called upon to testify whether he has received information concerning a certain fact in the confessional, he is justified in answering negatively, though he may have had a full recital of the matter; inasmuch as he received the knowledge of it as God, but being called upon to testify as man, as such, he knows nothing about it." He also distinguishes, in discussing the nature of faith, between a fides informis and a fides formata. The object of this absurd distinction may not be sufficiently plain; but the absurdity of it is so. For what is a fides informis, but non ulla fides; and what kind of faith can exist at all, unless it be formata? The very idea of a true and proper faith, and any other does not deserve the name, implies that it is a living and confiding one, affecting both the intellect and the heart.

Several causes may be assigned, as producing this trait in the Scholastics. The nature of the subjects discussed by them would lead to it. These naturally tended to call forth the cultivation of the reasoning powers; and when one power is thus prominently exercised, to the neglect of others, it attains supremacy and other modes of thought fall into desuetude. Besides, there was no danger of running against a heresy, by dealing extensively in these minutiæ, for there the Church had defined nothing, and there was no peril of incurring the Papal censures. Add to this, that a few

men of remarkably acute powers arose to eminence in the Church, whose intellectual tendencies led them to these investigations, and impressed upon the theology of those ages, the peculiarities of tion, whether we can obtain eternal life without grace, thus: Non potest homo mereri absque gratia vitam æternam per pura naturalia, quia scilicet meritum hominis dependet ex præordinatione divina.-Vita autem æterna est quoddam bonum excedens proportionem naturæ creatæ; quia etiam excedit cognitionem et desiderium ejus secundum illud, I. ad Corinth. 2: nee oculus vidit, etc. Et inde est, quod nulla natura creata est sufficiens principium actus meritorii vitæ æternæ, nisi superaddatur aliquid supernaturale donum quod gratia dicitur. Si vero loquamur de homine sub peccato existente, additur cum hoc secunda ratio, propter impedimentum peccati." Sum. Theol. Ques., 114, Art. II-III. He elsewhere defines how a man may know that he possesses this grace. Hoc modo aliquis cognoscere potest se habere gratiam, in quantum scilicet percipit se delectari in Deo, et contemnere res mundanas, et in quantum homo non est conscius peccati mortalis. Quæs. 112, Art. 5.

their own minds. The abilities of these men were also enlisted by the Papal Church, in its interests, and they of necessity labored hard to defend its sophistical dogmas and perversions.

To illustrate the peculiarity now in question, we may adduce the celebrated dispute which divided all the Schools into Realists and Nominalists. The inquiry had been started anew by Roscelin, whether general ideas designated at that time by the name Universals were merely abstractions of the mind, represented by words; or whether they represented realities. He attributed to them only a verbal validity, and was thus the founder of the Nominalists. It is truly amazing that so abstruse a theme should have been discussed amid the darkness of the Middle Ages. The fierceness of the contest which was waged during so protracted a period, is equally astonishing. It was in consequence of his opposition to the Nominalist party, that John Huss was condemned to death at Constance in 1415. It was in consequence of his opposition to Realism, that John de Wesalia was imprisoned in 1479, in which confinement he remained until his death. In both of these cases, it was the influence of the opposing sect which sealed the doom of these excellent men.

We may form some idea of this knotty logomachy from the following statements. The dispute mainly turned upon the point whether Genus and Species were real things, existing subjectively and independently of our objective conceptions of them, or not. The doctrine of the Realists was erroneously attributed to Aristotle, says Dr. Whately; for he contradicts it. Aristotle calls individual, primary or independent substances (noorat ovoia), but genus and species, comprising those individuals, secondary (SEVTéQa ovoía), as not denoting an actually existing thing. Arist. Categor., § 3. Upon this apparently worthless inquiry, the fierce disputes of ages rested. Around it they raged with unmitigated intensity; sometimes illuminated by the lurid flames of the martyr's conflagration, sometimes interrupted by his death-shrieks and expiring agonies. That no valuable fruits resulted from these agitations, may well appear to us, in the enlightened and utilitarian age in which we live.

Aquinas gives an exposition of his views on this question as follows. According to him, universals may be considered either in regard to their matter or their form. The matter of the universal idea of man, is the union of the attributes of human nature. Hence, universals are a parte rei; their matter exists solely in each individual. Their form is the character of universality applied to this matter, which is obtained by abstracting what is peculiar to each individual, in order to consider what is common to all. In this sense, he says universals are a parte intellectus. Apparently, this inquiry was invested with some importance, because if individuals are the only realities, it necessarily follows

that those senses which perceive these individuals are the only sources of human knowledge. It also follows, that there can be no clear conception of anything, because a clear conception and positive affirmation imply a general idea, which it is here affirmed. does not exist. This leads us to skepticism. While, on the other hand, if the objects represented by general ideas, are the only realities, of which individuals are merely the forms, we are on the high road to Pantheism. These results, it appears, were anticipated by the scholastics, and were furiously charged in their wranglings upon the respective maintainers of them.

That both systems, when exclusively taken, were erroneous, sufficiently plain. The generic term holiness, for instance, has in its generality, no external, corresponding matter. And yet it cannot be without some object, else it would not exist. In one sense, therefore, the abstract terms, justice, virtue, truth, etc., are nominal, existing without any related objects which they qualify. In another sense, they are real, for they give distinctive character to certain entities, and without them, these entities could not at all exist as such.

A third characteristic of the scholastic doctors was their ignorance of the plain doctrines of the Bible. This results from their want of acquaintance with exegetical learning, already alluded to. This ignorance might naturally be inferred from the fact, that they made the Bible no standard of appeal in their doctrinal investigations. When any sort of reference whatever was made to it, it was so enveloped in paraphrases and glosses, in the language, too, of the Vulgate, that the pure Word of God and mind of the Spirit were rarely reached.

The ignorance of these doctors of the truths of the Bible was singularly illustrated by the conference which Luther held at Augsburg, with Cardinal Cajetan, one of the ablest theologians of his day. As papal legate he was sent to confound and silence the arch-heretic, and then prescribe the terms of his submission to the Holy See. He entertained no doubt whatever, but that he could reduce Luther to intellectual straits, as well as to terms of personal submission. His fame, his learning, his high reputation for talents and experience, must ensure him an easy victory over the abominable heretic. But in bold reply to the distinctions and evasions of the legate, the presumptuous monk arrayed in impenetrable order the declarations of the Word of God. He demanded counter evidences from the same authority. He would not yield until his own proofs had been invalidated. The declarations of the Bible fell with massive weight upon the nice and delicate structures of the legate's logic, demolished them, and left not a trace behind. Had Cajetan been a biblical scholar, the monk's victory would not have been so signal, nor the dignitary's defeat so humiliating. He was learned, but merely in the Schoolmen

and Fathers. He had great abilities, but they had never been trained under the tuition of the Great Teacher, nor enlightened by his Spirit.

Nor was Cajetan's acquaintance with the Bible inferior to that of his brethren. They were all equally ignorant. Scholasticism still flourished while he lived, and if a knowledge of the Bible had been characteristic of those theologians, he would have shared a portion of their wisdom. When we turn to the history of those times, we learn that it confirms the truth taught by the case just cited. Erasmus, de Ratione Veræ Theologiæ, says: Quale spectaculum est theologum octogenarium nihil aliud sapere quam mera sophismata, et ad extremum usque vitæ nihil aliud argutari. Possem tibi producere, qui annum egressi octogesimum tantum ætatis, in scholasticis tricis perdiderint, nec usque contentum evangelicum evolverint. Id quod a me compertum, ipsi quoque demum confessi sunt. Perkheimer, in his Epist. apolog. pro Reuchlino, says: Hinc est quod vetus Test. a similibus negligitur, novum quasi idiotis scriptum vilipenditur, Apostolorum doctrinæ vix lectione digna putatur. Robert Stephens, in the preface to his Responsio ad censuras theologorum Parisiensium, declares: Ante paucos annos quidam ex Sorbona sic loquebatur; miror quid isti juvenes nobis semper allegent Novum Testamentum ? Per Deum, ego plus habebam quam quinquaginta annos, quod nesciebam quod esset Novum Testamentum?

Such language needs no comment. Such ignorance of the Scriptures, among the professed teachers of religion, is astonishing as well as mournful. The purity of the doctrines taught by such men may well be imagined. The great principle has yet to be overturned, that Theologus in Scripturis nascitur; and if this aphorism be true, the claims of the Scholastic Doctors, to the title of theological instructors, can be with difficulty maintained. When the fountains become impure, and the very channels through which these waters are conveyed are polluted, we will in vain expect anything but a draught of impurity and filth.

The Scholastic Theologians introduced philosophical systems into their doctrines, and were all either Platonists or Aristotelians. This unnatural connection between light and darkness, produced the worst results. The Arabian philosophy had prepared the way for this state of things. The great names of Alkendi, Algazel, and Averroes, adorn the history of that school. The only work of Aristotle, with which Europeans were acquainted, was his Organon, of which a Latin translation had been made by Boëthius. The Arabs had translated all his works, and introduced them into the Moorish schools of Spain. To these seats of learning, the youth of Christian Europe resorted. Thus, the fame of these writings was carried abroad, and the Latin translations of them extensively

circulated.