ion, Scholastic Theology, which originated in the scholastic
philosophy of Erigena and his followers, sought, in the strange union of
the Holy Scriptures, the Aristotelian Philosophy, and Pantheism, to
construct a scientific basis for Christianity. Heresy was to be combated
with the weapons of the heretics, and a co-ordination of authority and
reason effected. Under such auspices scholastic philosophy pervaded the
schools, giving to some of them, as the University of Paris, a
fictitious reputation, and leading to the foundation of others in other
cities. It answered the object of its politic promoters in a double way,
for it raised around the orthodox theology an immense and impenetrable
bulwark of what seemed to be profound learning, and also diverted the
awakening mind of Western Europe to occupations which, if profitless,
were yet exciting, and without danger to the existing state of things.
In that manner was put off for a time the inevitable day in which
philosophy and theology were to be brought into mortal conflict with
each other. [Sidenote: Its advantages in the existing state of the
Church.] It was doubtless seen by Hildebrand and his followers that,
though Berengar had set the example of protesting against the principle
that the decision of a majority of voters in a council or other
collective body should ever be received as ascertaining absolute truth,
yet so great was the uncertainty of the principles on which the
scholastic philosophy was founded, so undetermined its mental exercise,
so ineffectual the results to which it could attain, that it was
unlikely for a long time to disturb the unity of doctrine in the Church.
While men were reasoning round and round again in the same vicious
circle without finding any escape, and indeed without seeking any,
delighted with the dexterity of their movements, but never considering
whether they were making any real advance, it was unnecessary to
anticipate inconvenience from their progress.

[Sidenote: The philosophical dilemma of the Church.] Here was the
difficulty. The decisions of the Church were asserted to be infallible
and irrevocable; her philosophy, if such it can be called--as must be
the case with any philosophy reposing upon a final revelation from
God--was stationary. But the awakening mind of the West was displaying,
in an unmistakable way, its propensity to advance. As one who rides an
unruly horse will sometimes divert him from a career which could not