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ART. III.-Joannis Scoti Opera quæ supersunt omnia. Partem primus edidit, partem recognovit, HENRICUS JOSEPHUS FLOSS, SS. Theol. et Ph. Dr. Excud. apud J. P. MIGNE. Lutetiæ Paris: 1865.

WITHOUT doubt, Joannes Scotus, the learned Irishman of the ninth century, is the most conspicuous literary figure in what are called the Dark Ages. His acquaintance with Greek, his bold speculative mind, his friendship with the King of France, his travels, his various and elaborate writings, all give deep interest to his history. The Abbé Migne has perhaps done no greater service to the cause of theological and patristic learning, than by giving to the world a complete edition of his writings, edited with great care, and containing much that had never been printed before.

We do not, however, propose in the present article to address ourselves to the consideration of the whole subject of the life and writings of Joannes, to which this learned volume invites us, but to contine ourselves to certain points in the preface of Dr. Floss, which involve a question of much theological interest.

In an article on Berengar of Tours, in a former number of this Review,' we expressed our agreement with the opinion that the Treatise on the Eucharist, usually ascribed to Bertram, or Ratramn, a monk of Corbey, was in reality the book of John Scot, to which allusion is so often made in the controversy of the eleventh century. This opinion, which had been held by several of the learned in France, Dr. Floss notices and states very fairly. But at the same time he condemns it as untenable. We think, however, that we shall be able to show, on the very grounds given by the Doctor, not only that it is not untenable, but that it is certainly true.

In order, however, to exhibit the importance which this question assumes in the history of doctrine, it will be needful in the first place to inquire into the beginning of the Eucharistic controversy, and to trace out the earliest teaching of that materialistic theory, against which John Scot wrote, and which Berengar afterwards spent his life in combating.

Between the era of the Fathers and the era of the Schoolmen lies a great gulf of at least three or four centuries, which men are wont to designate, as it were in despair, The Dark Ages. Do we use this disparaging epithet because these ages knew nothing, or because we know nothing of them? Robert

16 Christian Remembrancer,' April 1866.

son will complacently encourage us in the former view, while Dr. Maitland, with a striking array of out-of-the-way bits of information, will strongly uphold the latter. The truth, as usual, lies between the two extremes. We don't know much of these ages, but this is a good deal occasioned by there not being much to know. Something, however, without doubt, there is to know. What was the intervening process which transformed the theology of the Fathers into the theology of the Schoolmen? What were the conditions under which Christianity became materialized, and, as it were, vulgarized? How did the great opus operatum, mechanical theory of salvation spring up, increase, and dominate until it swallowed up all spiritualism? To answer these questions-to strike the fountain-head of momentous controversies, reaching down to our own time—we must approach the Dark Ages, for in them the system, which we sometimes designate in one word as Mediævalism, began. This system, which, while it reverentially employed itself upon the Fathers, nevertheless misunderstood and degraded them— this system, thoroughly human and carnal, yet powerful and complete reappears with renewed vigour at the present day, and challenges our closest scrutiny as to its origin.

In investigating the Dark Ages, a natural inquiry presents itself. At what precise period did the greatest obscurity prevail? M. Guizot will tell us that in the seventh century is to be placed the lowest point which the intellect of Modern Europe has reached.1 The Benedictine historians fix the zero of intelligence for France a little further on. According to them, the early part of the eighth century is the period as to which those best acquainted with antiquity are agreed 'that it was the darkest, the most barbarous, and the most 'ignorant age that has ever been seen in France.' 2

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France, says Mr. Hallam, reached the lowest point of de'cadence at the beginning of the eighth century, but England was at that time more respectable, and did not fall into complete degradation till the middle of the ninth. There could

'be nothing more deplorable than the state of letters in Italy 'during the succeeding century.' But, even at the darkest of these dark periods, was the ignorance absolute, and the stagnation of all thought and power of expression complete? Assuredly not. M. Guizot, who has employed himself in ascertaining the time of the deepest obscurity, has well shown that the notion so commonly entertained as to the absolute ignorance of these ages, is altogether erroneous. From the sixth to the ninth century there was a considerable literary activity in existence, Histoire de la Civilisation en France, ii. 171. 2 Histoire Littéraire de France, iv. 4.

3 History of Middle Ages, ii. 352.

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even in France, only it was of a certain sort, and confined to certain localities. Its character was essentially religious, its local habitation was the cloister. All value for profane studies ceased with the fall of the Western Empire and the triumph of the barbarians. But the barbarians themselves were quickly subdued by that Christian faith which had taken firm hold of the lands which they had conquered. The great municipal schools of Treves, Poictiers, Vienne, and Bordeaux, disappear; but in their place spring up the Cathedral and Episcopal schools. In these, rhetoric, dialectic, grammar, and geography were taught in subordination to theology. The studies produced no literature properly so called, but they produced and fostered a considerable mental activity. One is astonished,' says M. Guizot, after having heard and thought that this pe'riod was utterly barren, to find on looking closer, a world, so to 'speak, of writings,-of no great value, it is true, but which, 'by their number and spirit, prove the existence of a singular activity and productiveness.' An immense mass of sermons, expositions of Scripture, lives of saints, and even poems, belongs to this period. This literature has not possessed sufficient vitality from its intrinsic merit to hold a place in the estimation of Modern Europe. Lost sight of between the great works of the Fathers and the ingenious speculations of the Schoolmen, it seems to leave the intermediate age altogether blank. But in the disturbed and chaotic state of civil society which then prevailed, the cloister, with its comparative security, its life of ease and quietude, invited many to religious thought and religious writing. Formed on false models, with but little insight into human nature, and no knowledge of the world, these writings never could challenge attention on their own merits, but simply as records in the history of human thought. As such they are valuable and instructive. This is a time not of speculation, but of adaptation. The grand teaching of the Fathers is brought down to suit the state of opinion and knowledge then prevalent in the Church. The spiritual expressions, the high thoughts of those great Christian philosophers, are materialized and degraded. The narrow intellects of semi-barbarous recluses could not enter into the real mind of a Jerome, an Augustine, or an Ambrose. A transforming process was applied to their doctrines, and, as has been well remarked, there is an abyss between the theology of the five first centuries, which had its birth in the bosom of Roman society, and the theology of the Middle Age, which was produced from the bosom of the Christian Church.1 During this period there are no writers indi

1 Guizot, Civilisation, ii. 343.

vidualized and marked out beyond their fellows, by the display of intellectual power. The writers are numerous, but all on one dead level. At the beginning of the time one grand figure emerges, but he is rather to be reckoned among the Fathers, from whom he is separated but by a short interval, than among the monkish compilers who follow him. Yet even Gregory, proficient as he was in all the arts and sciences cultivated in his day, and skilled as he was to clothe his universal knowledge in striking and eloquent language, exhibited, as it were, the preparatory stage for the degradation which was to follow him. He who could regard the teaching of grammar and music as a grievous sin in a clerk,1 was separated by an immense interval from Augustine, who wrote treatises on these subjects, and was thoroughly versed in Latin literature. From the time of Gregory at the end of the sixth century, to the time of Charlemagne, in the latter part of the eighth, it is hard to point out any writer or thinker of more conspicuous excellence than the great mass of his fellows. Our own Bede furnishes the nearest exception to this assertion, but Bede, though infinitely valuable as a patient and honest compiler, showed no sign of critical discrimination, or original thought. The treatment which theological subjects were thus for a long time receiving, was necessarily of a character to degrade and lower them. The vast phalanx of mouastic expositors and legend-writers which was busy in France during this period, had not availed to save the Church from excessive ignorance and barbarism. Charlemagne was stimulated to become an educational reformer by the extreme illiterateness of the letters which he was in the habit of receiving from the monasteries. Addressing himself to the task with his natural vigour, he called the learned of every land to his aid. Alcuin from England, Clement from Ireland, Theodulph from Germany, came to help him in the restoration of letters in France, and great was the effect which their learned labours and the powerful will of the monarch produced. But in fact the literary revival of Charlemagne was only the giving increased energy and power of expression to the schools of thought and theological treatment which were prevalent before his time. The Church was not so much enlightened by his work, as strengthened and invigorated. Churchmen were taught the trivium and quadrivium. They learned to write without solecisms, and to spell correctly. They acquired the method of transcribing the sacred books with clearness and accuracy, of understanding the Roman ritual, and of chanting the Gregorian tunes. But in theology there was but little

1 Gregor. Magn. Epist. ix. 48.

advance. The estimate of the learned Benedictines of the divines formed in the schools of Charlemagne is, that 'Nothing 'original is to be found in their writings. They were copyists ' of the Fathers without understanding them. They exhibit more 'labour than genius, more memory than invention, or power of 'selection.' Theological writing, however, though but little improved by the work of Charlemagne, was nevertheless greatly stimulated. New subjects were now debated by the priests and bishops; matters of dogma, which had been left untouched before, were brought forward and discussed. Treatises appeared on Image Worship, the Procession of the Holy Spirit, the nature of the Saviour, and on Baptism. In the general attempt at elucidating all the prominent topics of theology, it was not likely that the highest mystery of the Christian faith should long remain unnoticed. Men had hitherto been content to regard the Eucharist with reverential devotion, and to accept the grand language of Augustine and Ambrose as the best exponent of the Divine Presence therein. They had shrunk from the endeavour to explain and localize so great a mystery, and as not one of the chief Fathers had ever used an expression on this subject, which was incapable of a spiritual interpretation, they had endeavoured to believe, according to their. powers, that there was something there beyond their carnal conceptions and understandings. But the monks, stirred up by the educational activity consequent on the work of Charlemagne, thought that they could improve on the Fathers. They would explain these mystical and spiritualized expressions. They would bring down these high things within the reach of the meanest capacity.' ' Like the charla

2

tans of the present day, who undertake to teach a subject in so many lessons, they would clear up all difficulties, and show precisely what was meant by Christ's Presence in the Holy Sacrament. The first who was possessed by this unlucky desire to define and explain, was one Paschas, or Paschasius, a monk of the French monastery of Corbey. This man had been brought up at the monastery of Soissons, but had afterwards quitted it and taken the secular habit. Tired of this he had retreated to Corbey, then governed by the Abbot Adalard, who had done much to forward the reforming and enlightening process set on foot by Charlemagne and Alcuin. This abbot is justly famous for having procured books from great distances, and at

1 Histoire Littéraire de France, iv. 30.

2 See Bingham's learned Historical Sketch, iv. 15. Hooker, Eccl. Pol. ii. 358: 'It appeareth not that of all the ancient Fathers of the Church any one did ever conceive or imagine other than only a mystical participation of Christ's both Body and Blood.'

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