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THE INQUISITION OF THE MIDDLE AGES
BOOK 1
- ORIGIN AND ORGANIZATION OF THE INQUISITION
CHAPTER II
HERESY
1
Social Characteristics.
The Church, which we have seen so far removed from its
ideal and so derelict in its duties, found itself, somewhat unexpectedly,
confronted by new dangers and threatened in the very citadel of its power. Just
as its triumph over king and Kaiser was complete a new enemy arose in the
awakened consciousness of man. The dense ignorance of the tenth century, which
followed the evanescent Carolingian civilization, had begun in the eleventh to
yield to the first faint pulsations of intellectual movement.
Early in the twelfth
century that movement already shows in its gathering force the promise of the
development which was to render Europe the home of art and science, of
learning, culture, and civilization. The stagnation of the human mind could not
be thus broken without leading to inquiry and to doubt. When men began to
reason and to ask questions, to criticize and to speculate on forbidden topics,
it was not possible for them to avoid seeing how woeful was the contrast
between the teaching and the practice of the Church, and how little
correspondence existed between religion and ritual, between the lives of monk
and priest and the profession of their vows. Even the blind reverence which for
generations had been felt for the utterances of the Church began to be shaken.
Such a book as Abelard’s “Sic et Non”, in which the contradictions of tradition
and decretal were pitilessly set forth, was not only
an indication of mental disquiet ripening to rebellion, but a fruitful source
of future trouble in sowing the seeds of further investigation and irreverence.
Vainly, at the command of the Roman curia, might Gratian seek to show, in his
famous “Concordantia Discordantium Canonum”, that the contradictions might be reconciled,
and that the canon law was not merely a mass of clashing rules called forth by
special exigencies, but an harmonious body of spiritual law. The fatal word had
been spoken, and the efforts of the Glossators, of Masters of Sentences, of
Angelic Doctors, and of the innumerable crowd of scholastic theologians and
canon lawyers, with all their skilful dialectics, could never restore to the
minds of men the placid and unbroken trust in the divine inspiration of the
Church Militant. Few as were the assailants as yet, and intermittent as were
their attacks, the very number of the defenders and the vigor of the defence show
the danger which was recognized as dwelling in the spirit of inquiry which had
at last been partially aroused from its long slumber.
That spirit had received a powerful impulse from the
school of Toledo, whither adventurous scholars flocked as to the fountain where
they could take long draughts of Arabic and Grecian and Jewish lore. Even in
the darkness of the tenth century Sylvester II, while yet plain Gerbert of Aurillac, had acquired
a sinister reputation as a magician, owing to his asserted studies of forbidden
science at that centre of intellectual activity.
Towards the middle of the
twelfth century Robert de Rétines, at the instance of
Peter the Venerable of Cluny, laid aside for a while his studies in astronomy
and geometry, in order to translate the Koran, and enable his patron to
controvert the errors of Islam. The works of Aristotle and Ptolemy, of Abubekr, Avicenna, and Alfarabi,
and finally those of Averrhoes, were rendered into
Latin, and were copied with incredible zeal in all the lands of Christendom.
The Crusaders, too, brought home with them fragmentary remains of ancient thought
which met with an equally warm reception. It is true that judicial astrology
was the chief subject of study and speculation among these new-found treasures,
but the earnestness with which more fruitful topics were investigated and the
danger which lurked in them are evidenced by the repeated prohibitions of the
works of Aristotle and the denunciations of their use in the University of
Paris.
Even more menacing to the Church was the revival of the Civil Law.
Whether or not this was caused by the discovery of the Pandects of Amalfi, the ardor with which it came, by the middle of the
twelfth century, to be studied in all the great centres of learning is incontestable, and men found, to their surprise, that there was
a system of jurisprudence of wonderful symmetry and subtle adjustment of right,
immeasurably superior to the clumsy and confused canon law and the barbarous
feudal customs, while drawing its authority from immutable justice as represented
by the sovereign, and not from canon or decretal,
from pope or council, or even from Holy Writ.
The clear-sightedness of St.
Bernard was not in fault when, as early as 1149, he recognized the danger to
the Church, and complained that the courts rang with the laws of Justinian
rather than with those of God
To understand fully the effect of this intellectual
movement upon the popular mind and heart, we must picture to ourselves a state
of society in many respects wholly unlike our own. It is not only that in
civilized lands settled institutions have rendered men more submissive to law
and custom, but the diffusion of intelligence and the training of generations
have brought them more under the control of reason and rendered them less
susceptible to impulse and emotion. Even in modern times we have seen, in
outbursts like the Revolution of 1889, the possibilities of popular frenzy when
reason is dethroned by passion. Yet the madness of the Reign of Terror is no
unapt illustration of the violent emotions to which mediaeval populations were
subject, for good or for evil, giving occasion to the startling contrasts which
render the period so picturesque, and relieve the sordidness of its daily life
with splendid exhibitions of the loftiest enthusiasm or with hideous deeds of
brutality.
Unaccustomed to restraint, vigorous manhood asserted itself in all
its greatness and its littleness, whether in wreaking cruel vengeance upon the
defenseless or in offering itself joyfully as a sacrifice to humanity. Thrills
of delirious emotion spread from land to land, arousing the populations from
their lethargy in blind attempts to achieve they scarcely knew what—in crusades
which bleached the sands of Palestine with Christian bones, in wild excesses of
flagellation, in purposeless wanderings of the Pastoureaux. In the deep and
hopeless misery which oppressed the mass of the people there was an everpresent feeling of unrest which constantly saw in the
near future the coming of Antichrist, the end of the world, and the Day of
Judgment.
In the deplorable condition of society, torn with unceasing and savage
neighborhood-war and ground under the iron heel of feudalism, the common man
might indeed well imagine that the reign of Antichrist was ever imminent, or
might welcome any change which possibly might benefit, and scarce could injure,
his condition. The invisible world, moreover, with its mysterious attraction
and horrible fascination, was ever present and real to everyone. Demons were
always around him, to smite him with sickness, to ruin his pitiful little
cornfield or vineyard, or to lure his soul to perdition; while angels and
saints were similarly ready to help him, to listen to his invocations, and to
intercede for him at the throne of mercy, which he dared not to address
directly. It was among a population thus impressionable, emotional, and superstitious,
slowly awakening in the intellectual dawn, that orthodoxy and heterodoxy—the
forces of conservatism and progress—were to fight the battle in which neither
could win permanent victory.
ITS CHARACTER AND CAUSE.
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