GIFT OF JANE KoSATHER
THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
THE
LIFE OF ALCUIN/
DR. FREDERICK LORENZ,
PROFESSOR OF HISTORY AT THE UNIVERSITY OF HALLE.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY
JANE MARY SLEE.
LONDON: THOMAS HURST, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH- YARD.
M.DCCC. XXXVII.
I
PREFACE.
THE following translation of the Life of Alcuin has been undertaken at the suggestion of the Rev. J. G. Tiarks, minister of the German Protestant Re- formed Church in London, author of one of the best German Grammars which has been published in this country, and various other books for the use of students. My sole object in executing the work, has been to render an individual, who contributed so eminently to the revival of literature, at a period when learning was well nigh extinct, more exten- sively known amongst his countrymen. However numerous may be the defects, the reader may, I hope, rely upon the accuracy of the translation, the MSS. having had the advantage of being revised by so accomplished a scholar as Mr. Tiarks. It is, perhaps, needless to say, that as a mere translator, I hold myself in no way responsible for the senti- ments expressed by Dr. Lorenz; from some of
IV PREFACE.
which, notwithstanding the great ability he has displayed, I may be disposed to differ. The quota- tions from the Scriptures are translated from Luther's version, which is universally adopted in Germany, and consequently by Dr. Lorenz.
J. M. SLEE.
December 24, 1836.
CONTENTS,
PAGE
INTRODUCTION . . . . . .1
SECTION I.
EDUCATION AND CIRCUMSTANCES OF ALCUIN UNTIL HIS FIRST APPEARANCE AT THE COURT OF CHARLEMAGNE. A.D. 735— 782. . . . .6
SECTION II.
ALCUIN'S RESIDENCE DURING EIGHT YEARS AT THE COURT OF CHARLEMAGNE. A.D. 782—790.
1 . Of the State of Civilisation in the Kingdom of France . 14
2. Charlemagne . . . . .16
3. Alcuin as Instructor to the King and Royal Family . 20
4. Establishment of the Higher and Lower Schools in the
Kingdom of France . . . . .48
5. Alcuin's Return to England . . . .60
SECTION III.
ALCUIN'S RETURN TO THE COURT OF CHARLEMAGNE, AND HIS PARTICIPATION IN RELIGIOUS AFFAIRS UNTIL HIS PERMANENT SETTLEMENT IN FRANCE. A.D. 790 — 796 . 64
1 . Rise and Progress of the Doctrine of the Adoptionists . 66
2. Alcuin's Theological Opinions . . . .77 History of the Controversy respecting Image-worship . 90 Decision of the Council of Frankfort upon the Doctrine of
the Adoptionists and Image-worship . . .110
VI CONTENTS.
PAGE
5. Alcuin's Permanent Settlement in France, and his Parti- cipation in the Complete Suppression of the Doctrine of the Adoption . . . . . .27
SECTION IV.
ALCUIN AS ABBOT OF TOURS UNTIL HIS DEATH. A.D. 796—804.
/ 1. Reformation of the Ecclesiastical Order . . .138
P^8. Concerning Charles' Endeavours to improve the National
Language, and the Academy he is said to have founded. 146 ^3. The Friends and Pupils of Alcuin . . .152
4. Alcuin as Director of the Monastic School at Tours . 168
5. Alcuin's Philosophical and Historical Works . .176
6. Alcuin's Poetical Works . . . .188
7. Renewal of the Roman Empire in the West . .193
8. Dissension between Alcuin and Theodulph . .214
9. Alcuin's Death . . . . . .225
SECTION V.
UPON ALCUIN'S CHARACTER AND PERSONAL APPEARANCE.
1. General Remarks upon History and Biography . . 22 «
j^- 2. Alcuin's Personal Appearance .... 238
^3. Character of Alcuin , 235
NOTES . . .... 249
ERRATUM. Page 40, line 1 3, for permission read persuasion.
Till LIFE OF \l.< UN.
INTRODUCTION.
I in totally different aspect presented by the West of Europe, after the destruction of the Western Human Empire, combined with the degenerated state of Roman < ;\ ilisation, necessarily required a new development of the minds of those whose energy and valour had subdued the degraded descendants of cultivated antiquity. ( > as were the powers of mind possessed by these hardy conquerors, the rude and warlike habits acquired in their native forests were too firmly interwoven with their very nature, to l»e immediately exchanged for the refinement of the country they had vanquished. The effeminate Romans accommodated themselves more readily to the manners and customs of the invaders ; and hence, in a short space of time, the remembrance, and a few frag- • s of former civilisation alone remained — the frail memorials of departed grandeur. It was, therefore, unaided by external influence, that the faculties of the northern warriors were developed. The process was H
' 2" ' ' THE. '.LJF'E' OF ALCUIN.
indeed, slow ; so slow, that the lapse of a thousand years was requisite to enable them to profit by the arts and sciences, which, on their first approach, had been over- whelmed by the tide of barbarism. This insensibility to external influence tended essentially to the preservation of their independence. Fortunately, most fortunately, the heartless, prejudiced, enervated character of the then modern Roman, who possessed not faculties even to com- prehend, far less to imitate, the glory of his ancestors, re- mained totally alien to the new possessors of the soil, who imbibed only the vivifying element of Christianity. The Christian religion was the main spring of all intellectual efforts, during the whole of the interval that elapsed between the loss and the recovery of ancient civilisation ; and literature was altogether under the conduct and con- trol of her ministers. Few were the intellectual lumi- naries that shone forth in those days of darkness, very few were so brilliant as to exercise any direct influence on the present age. The venerated names, the hallowed writings of that period, ceased to retain the importance with which opinion had invested them, so soon as the progress of intellect enabled mankind to appreciate and to study those models which a gracious Providence had rescued from destruction and oblivion. Their labours, however, have not been in vain, their utility has surpassed their fame. To extend the knowledge of the merits of a celebrated man of this period, and to render a tribute to his memory, by redeeming a portion of that debt which mankind should gratefully acknowledge to one who laboured so zealously and so actively for their benefit, is the object of this work.
INTRODUCTION. J3
We may venture to assert that the time of Charle- magne is more celebrated than known, and that the founder of the new Romish German empire has found more panegyrists than historians. A character like that of Charles is too dazzling to admit of our beholding, at the first glance, the surrounding objects so as to distin- guish them clearly. But after accustoming ourselves to gaze longer upon it, the inquiring eye will discover other forms beaming, not undeservedly, with a ray of glory re- flected from the principal figure. The more accurately we can judge of men by those who surround them, the more necessary and instructive becomes the contempla- tion of their characters. A prince who is a mere warrior delights only in those hardy pursuits inseparable from a soldier's life, and seeks his friends and confidants in the army. A ruler who is a mere politician prefers the statesman to the soldier. When, however, a prince like Charlemagne, and others who have shared, or at least deserved to share, the same epithet, combines the ardour for conquest with the love of literature, the sword and the pen will be held in equal estimation ; he will attach himself most intimately to those who have won his confidence by a similar direction of mind, and have mani- fested the desire and the ability to promote the welfare of his subjects. One single man, even on a throne, can accomplish but little without the co-operation of kindred spirits. When, therefore, a sovereign possesses an intel- lect sufficiently capacious to embrace noble designs, and an eye to discern, amid the multitude, those whose energy and talents best fit them for the execution of his plans, he is justly celebrated ; his memory is held in grateful
4 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
honour, and his example commended to posterity. To him belongs the rare talent of availing himself of the various powers of others, and of uniting them for the attainment of one object. Not equity alone, therefore, re- quires, but it is indispensable to the right understanding of facts, that justice should be rendered to the indi- vidual who laboured successfully for this object. The man whose life forms the subject of this work, devoted his energies to the execution of Charles' noble project of advancing his subjects towards that civilisation, the light of which still lingered on the ruins of antiquity. This man was Alcuin ; and who can be a more proper repre- sentative of this honourable and distinguishing charac- teristic of Charles' reign, than he to whom the king was indebted for the chief of his learning, his children for the whole of their mental attainments, and such of the young Franks as evinced either inclination or ability for study, for all their knowledge? |He formed, to a certain extent, the centre of the awakened energies of this period; not because he was the only man remarkable for literary acquirements, but because he had pursued all the paths of knowledge which at that time lay open to the human mind. Neither splendid actions nor marvellous adventures, nor any of those striking incidents that are calculated to arouse and gratify curiosity, distinguish the life of Alcuin from that of ordinary men ; for his combats with the devil, and his miracles, belong to legends rather than to history. But the successful labours of the confidant and instructor of Charlemagne will prove, to the reflecting lover of history, a more effectual recommendation than the most dazzling achievements of others more renowned./ If the
INTRODUCTION. 5
investigation of the development of the human mind under its different manifestations, be the most important subject of history, our attention must be chiefly directed to those individuals who have prosecuted, with the greatest ardour and success, some one of the pursuits of their day. Their influence upon their own times increases in proportion as they are animated by the universal spirit of the community, comprehend and unite in themselves the various attainments of individuals, and advance them to a perfection sufficient to constitute a new era in the progress of the human mind. In times so remote, so destitute of various and complicated interests, and so deficient in cotemporary records as those of Charlemagne, we must be contented to produce the king as the representative of the political and military state, and one other personage to represent thc^literary and religious character of the times. With this view, we have examined and exhibited the life and works of Alcuin. We shall first describe the state of Anglo-Saxon civilisation at that period, in order to shew more clearly Alcuin's literary attainments. We shall afterwards accompany him to a more extensive and interesting sphere of action, where, without the ad- ventitious aid of external dignity, which his modesty always declined, he for years effected more than was ac- complished by prelates adorned with the most splendid titles.
THE LIFE OF ALCU1N,
SECTION I.
EDUCATION AND CIRCUMSTANCES OF ALCUIN UNTIL HIS FIRST APPEARANCE AT THE COURT OF CHARLE- MAGNE. A. D. 735—782.
THE eighth century after the birth of Christ commenced under circumstances the most unfavourable to the arts and sciences of the western world. The successful irruption of the Arabs into Spain, repelled the civilisa- tion introduced by Christianity, and confined it to the mountains of Asturias and Biscay. The constant feuds between the Lombards and the Greeks, scared the gentle muses from the north of Italy ; and they found no refuge amongst the Franks, now immersed in barbarism, and distracted by internal discord, in consequence of the weak- ness of the Merovingian house. Germany and Scandi- navia were still under the dominion of Paganism. The kingdom of the Anglo-Saxons alone offered them an asylum. The Anglo-Saxons had been converted to Christianity by the immediate influence of Rome, and were therefore in more intimate union with the papal see than any other of the western churches. The arch- bishop of Canterbury dying at Rome in the year 668? whither he had gone to solicit the pontifical ratification of his title, the pope Vitalianus determined to raise to the archiepiscopal throne a prelate elected by himself. He nominated Adrian, an African, who declined the proffered dignity, and recommended a monk in Rome named
THEODORE, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. 7
Theodore, a native of Tarsus in Cilicia, whom, at his own request, he promised to accompany. The Anglo-Saxons made no opposition to the right thus arrogated by the pope. Theodore accepted the appointment ; and at the age of sixty-six departed with his friend Adrian for England.1 These men were well versed in Latin and Greek literature ; and, speaking those languages with equal fluency, they awakened among the Anglo-Saxons an ardent desire for learning, and drew around them a multitude of scholars, several of whom made such progress that, according to Bede, they were as well acquainted with Greek and Latin as with their mother tongue0. After having held the archbishopric twenty-one years, Theodore died : his friend Adrian survived him nearly eighteen years. Their pupils diffused the knowledge they had acquired through- out England, and established schools in every monastery, for the education, not only of the clergy, but also for such of the laity as evinced any inclination for literature. The only deficiency was a competent supply of books. Theo- dore had brought with him Josephus, the poems of Homer, and probably several other works of inferior note : still they were inadequate to assuage the thirst for know- ledge which had been excited. Many journeys to Rome were therefore undertaken, in order to augment the number of books from the collections in that city ; and a library began to be the pride and ornament of monas- teries. Benedict, the founder of the abbey at Were- mouth, distinguished himself by repeated visits to Rome, for the sake of introducing into his own country many works then entirely unknown. From his school, issued one of the most influential scholars of the early part of
8 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
the middle ages, the venerable Bede, whose learning and writings embraced the most opposite branches of know- ledge, and were held in equal estimation with those of the early fathers of the church. At that period Aldhelm and Winfrid1 were no less celebrated ; the former for his skill in the learning of the schools and the cloister, the latter for his indefatigable zeal in preaching the faith of Christ to the heathen population of Germany. The merit of these men consists, not so much in any new dis- coveries in the field of literature, as in their preservation and diffusion of existing knowledge. They erected a barrier against the threatening tide of barbarism ; and in the seclusion of the cloister, unruffled by the storms that agitated the world, they cherished the glorious flower of learning, until a more propitious season again called it forth into the light. The object of the monasteries being thus attained, their utility ceased; and any attempt now to restore them for the purpose of intellectual im- provement, would be to retrograde instead of to advance. Amongst the schools thus established in the kingdom of the Anglo-Saxons, that at York became the most famous, after Egbert had been appointed archbishop of York and director of the school. Youths of the noblest families were here ^instructed in the rules of grammar, in the other liberal arts, and in the various branches of theology2.
Alcuin was born at York about the year 735 : at least some inference to that effect may be deduced from a letter written by him to the fraternity3 of that city, in which he observes that it had watched over the tender years of his childhood with a mother's love, had borne
EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION.
with his thoughtless boyhood with pious patience, and with fatherly chastisement had brought him up to man's estate. He was of noble origin1 ; but neither the name of his parents, nor any particulars of his family, have been transmitted to posterity either by himself or others. Having in early youth been designed for the church, he was brought up in a monastery, and after a suitable pre- paration, entered Egbert's school. The archbishop him- self, and Aelbert one of his relations, who afterwards succeeded him in that dignity, superintended the school. They divided the subjects of instruction between them, Egbert undertaking the explanation of the New Testa- ment, and Aelbert the sciences and general literature. Alcuin enumerates the various subjects in which the latter gave instruction: Grammar, Rhetoric, Jurispru- dence, Poetry, Astronomy, Physics, and the explanation of the Old Testament2. It is to him, therefore, that he ascribes the greater part of the advantages received by himself and the young people of York. He applauds Aelbert's endeavours to draw around him youths of dis- tinguished talents, and to attach them to him by his in- structions and his kindness3. This Alcuin himself ex- perienced. Nothing shows more conspicuously the high estimation in which he was held by his master, than the fact, that he selected him for the companion4 of his ex- peditions to foreign countries for the purpose of trans- planting to his native soil whatever he might discover of novelty and value either in books or in the pursuits of science. The age of Alcuin at that time probably ex- ceeded twenty, and he was qualified both by years and education to avail himself of all the advantages which such
10 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN,
a journey offered to the lover of literature. They travelled through France into Italy, and to their ulti- mate destination — Rome.
He mentions neither the impression made upon his young mind by his wanderings among the Franks, nor the feelings awakened in him by the first view of the city of Rome. We may, however, suppose that the igno- rance and rude manners of the Franks tended to make Rome appear to still greater advantage. For if any place in the western world could captivate a young mind ardent in the pursuit of knowledge, it was Rome — once the metropolis of the civilized world, and whose very ruins recalled to mind the magnificence of by-gone centuries, and the once flourishing state of science and of art. Even at that time, Rome, more than any other spot in the west of Europe, was the abode of the sciences ; and had already laid the foundations of a new universal dominion, which, more powerful than that de- stroyed by the Germans, was to be upheld not by force of arms, but by spiritual power ; and which, by means of prejudice and superstition, was one day to bind the na- tions of the earth in inextricable chains. Alcuin's resi- dence at Rome probably strengthened the ideas he had early conceived of the dignity of the pope, and prepared him to contribute a stone to the boldly constructed edi- fice of the hierarchy.
After his return, Alcuin remained at York as assistant to his master Aelbert, till the latter was appointed to the archbishop's see on the death of his relation Egbert, which took place on the 1 1th of November, 766. Being prevented by his office from devoting the same care as
LIBRARY AT YORK. 11
formerly to the school, Aelbert consecrated Alcuin deacon, and inducted him into the situation he himself had oc- cupied, and committed to him the superintendance of the library attached to the school. If we compare this col- lection of books with the admiration and excessive en- comiums of cotemporaries, and consider that throughout the whole kingdom of France, its equal not only did not exist, but could not be procured, we may form some idea of the state of literature at that period, and of what Charles and Alcuin effected. " Here," says Alcuin, in a poem, wherein he celebrates the church of York, its superintendants and its saints, " here may be found monu- ments of the ancient fathers, works produced in Latium by the Romans themselves, and those which were trans- ferred to them from the glorious land of Greece ; truths received by the Hebrew nation from above, which Africa has with pure light extended." If the following list does not comprise all the books, we may rest assured that the principal are enumerated. Aristotle, Cicero, Pompeius (Justin's Abridgment), Pliny. Virgil, Statius, Lucan and Boethius are the only classical authors whom he speci- fies. In addition to these, a few ancient grammarians, some Christian poets, and the fathers of the church, in the Latin tongue, are mentioned. Even in those days, as in the times of antiquity, instruction was chiefly oral, the art of printing not having as yet given rise to the great and extensive prevalence of books. A school was there- fore elevated into importance by the fame of an able teacher ; and the flourishing institution at York derived this advantage from Alcuin : even foreigners resorted thither to pursue their theological studies. Liudger, a
12 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
native of Friesland, of noble birth, who was afterwards canonized, repaired to York1, and perhaps many others, whose names being unaccompanied by any remarkable event, have not descended to posterity. Alcuin main- tained a correspondence by letter with the most distin- guished among his scholars, many of whom were subse- quently summoned to fill the highest offices.
Aelbert died on the 8th November, 780, and was suc- ceeded by Eanbald, a pupil in the school at York. In order to obtain for him the archbishop's pall, Alcuin the following year travelled to Rome. At the same time, Charles, king of France, accompanied by his family, was on his way back from that city, where he had passed the winter. He was returning to his own country, medi- tating splendid projects for the amelioration of his people, but in considerable embarrassment as to the means of effecting his wishes. A great mind, like that possessed by Charles, could not behold the ruins of antiquity, without regretting that so highly cultivated an era should have passed away, and without wishing again to call it into existence. A fortunate chance led him to Parma, whilst Alcuin was there, who, if not personally2, was at all events by reputation well known to him. After a con- versation, in which the king probably communicated to him his designs for the improvement of his people by education, and his difficulty in finding competent instruc- tors, he requested Alcuin to become the organizer of all the institutions which he meditated establishing in France. Alcuin promised to comply with the king's wishes, if permitted by his superiors, and, in that case, to
ALCUIN'S ASSISTANTS. 13
return to him after the completion of his present com- mission.
On his arrival at York, he easily obtained the permis- sion required, and returned, accompanied by some of his pupils as assistants .5 Amongst these were Wizo sur- named Candidus, Fredegisus or Fridugisus surnamed Nathaniel, and Singulfus, all of whom we shall have oc- casion to mention frequently, and who deserved and en- joyed his confidence for the faithful service which they rendered him. Osulf, however, who likewise followed him, had not sufficient firmness to withstand temptation, but yielded himself up to a course of life unworthy of a scholar, and still more unworthy of an ecclesiastic. Alcuin tried every means to bring him back into the right path. He wrote three letters1 to him, the lan- guage of which is forcible and earnest, addressing him in terms alternately eloquent and feeling. " Why," he exclaims in one passage to his lost son, " why hast thou abandoned thy father who has educated thee from thy childhood, who has instructed thee in the liberal sciences, and led thee in the ways of virtue, and furnished thee with the doctrines of eternal life ? Why hast thou joined thyself to a troop of harlots, to the revels of the drunkard, to the follies of the vain ? Art thou that youth who was praised by every tongue, lovely in every eye, commended to every ear ? Alas ! alas ! now thou art censured by every tongue, hateful to every eye, and cursed to every ear." He represents to him, in the strongest colours of those times, the torments of hell and th? joys of heaven. Then he attempts to work upon his feelings of ambition, and proposes to him, as an example, his fel-
14 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
low-pupil, Eanbald of York. But neither the hopes nor fears of an obscure futurity, nor the sentiments of honour had the effect upon him which Alcuin desired to pro- duce.
With these pupils, as assistants in his new and important vocation, Alcuin arrived in France in the year 782.
SECTION II.
ALCUIN'S RESIDENCE DURING EIGHT YEARS AT THE COURT OF CHARLEMAGNE. A. D. 782—790.
1. — Of the State of Civilisation in the Kingdom of France.
AT the period of the conquest of Gaul by the Franks, the natives were far superior to their conquerors in in- tellectual cultivation. The permanent footing which the victors obtained had, however, no influence in refining their manners ; and their adoption of the Christian religion contributed less to eradicate their barbarism than to increase their superstition. Instead of the new settlers acquiring a share of civilisation, the natives assimilated themselves to them more than the Romans had done to other tribes of Germany, by whom they had been sub- dued. In times when religion forms the sole subject of mental interest, we can judge of the general state of civilisation by the condition of the priests. From the moment that the Franks began to aspire to high digni- ties in the church, such a degeneracy of manners pre-
STATE OF THE FRANK CLERGY. 15
vailed amongst the superior clergy, that we should scarcely credit the accounts of the ignorance. and scandalous prac- tices of many ecclesiastics, were they not recorded by Gregory himself. Intemperance in drinking1, perjury2, debauchery, adultery8, and the most abominable cruelties were as common among the bishops as among the rest of the Franks. The contagion of their evil example spread among the inferior clergy ; and had not some re- sisted the general depravity, and distinguished themselves by lives strict in proportion to the profligacy of the rest, or had not ignorance and barbarism of the times been so great that the most absurd superstitions found a ready acceptance, it would be difficult for us to conceive how a religion could continue to be held in estimation, whose ministers surpassed other men not in virtue but in vice. The lives of the clergy being subject to no inspection, they sank still lower throughout the whole Christian world during the restless and warlike times when the sceptre was transferred from the enfeebled line of the Mero- vingian house to the more vigorous hand of the race of Charlemagne. A system, therefore, such as Popery developed itself in its commencement, was a positive benefit to the middle ages. In the warmth with which Popery is both attacked and defended, it is but too often overlooked, that there was a time when it was beneficial to mankind, as well as a time when it degenerated through the abuse of its power, and ripened for the destruction connected with the accomplishment of its objects. Every human expedient is the result only of peculiar exigencies ; and no sooner does it cease to be necessary than it loses its importance, which no means, however artfully
16 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
contrived, can restore, Were the Roman hierarchy now surrounded even by an army of Jesuits, we need not dread the thunders of the Vatican. The depravity of the clergy, however, proves how necessary it was in those days to create an authority distinct from the temporal power to control their lives ; and we shall see hereafter, that, in the thorough reform undertaken by Charlemagne he was induced to favour the Hierarchy from a conviction of its necessity.
Charles Mart-el had imposed military service on the church, as well as on the other fiefs, and left it to the choice of the ecclesiastics either to resign their tempo- ralities, or to perform the obligations under which they held them. The greater part preferred retaining them by this disgraceful tenure, to the alternative of being deprived of their possessions. Charles Martel even rewarded many of his adherents for their services in battle, with lands and offices belonging to the church, and appointed bishops who had neither capacity for their charge, nor any conception of its dignity4. Although, through the zeal of St. Boniface, some of the most un- worthy were displaced in the following reign, yet these solitary instances had little effect on the whole system. To reform abuses so enormous, required all the power and vigour of a man like Charlemagne.
2. — Charlemagne.
At the time when Einhard wrote the life of Charle- magne he was unable to meet with any one who could furnish him with information respecting the birth,
CHARLEMAGNE'S EARLY EDUCATION. 17
childhood, and youth of his hero ; and he deemed it absurd to hand down unauthenticated reports to posterity1. Sur- prising as is this confession, it will appear less strange when we reflect, that Einhard resided at Charles's court only during the latter part of his reign ; and that he did not enjoy that intimacy with the monarch which has been recorded by history, from the tradition of his amour with the pretended daughter of the king. Pro- bably, at that period, he had not begun to entertain the idea of writing the life of Charles, or he could certainly have found no difficulty in collecting the necessary materials ; and when afterwards, in the seclusion of a cloister, he availed himself of his leisure to prosecute the work, whose classical style exhibits the most convincing proof of the impulse given by Charles's institutions to the national civilisation; much, perhaps, had escaped his memory or seemed to him not sufficiently authentic to be incorporated into a description, which, while it paints such a character in the most glowing colours, should represent only the true features. This assertion of a contemporary must not, therefore, deter us from availing ourselves of the account given by Einhard, and other authors, to produce a sketch of the early education of Charles. He was brought up after the ordinary manner of the French nobility, being taught the use of arms, and the usual athletic exercises of hunting, riding, and swimming. Intellectual cultivation was considered of so little importance for the future sovereign of a warlike people, that he did not even learn to write; and, not- withstanding all the pains which he took in after life to supply the deficiency, he could never attain to a ready and
18 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
skilful use of the pen1. Neither was he in his youth in- structed in the Latin language ; he understood it, indeed, as it was then commonly spoken in Gaul, but not ac- cording to rule, and the usage of the ancient Latin authors. He endeavoured, at a more advanced age, to remedy this defect also of his education ; and, if we may believe his biographers, not without success. In conversation, where inaccuracies are less striking, he, perhaps, made himself understood with as much facility as he understood others ; but the difficulty he experienced in expressing himself in writing, is evident from a letter which he wrote from his camp at Ens to his wife Fastrada, in 79 1.2 The rest of his letters, which are in a better and more easy style, were either composed by others to whom he communicated his ideas, or were examined and corrected by some learned friend, as were the French works of Frederick the Great.
Although his education was not calculated to develop his literary talents, it did not, at all events, stifle his nobler qualities ; and it required only an external stimulus and excitement to kindle in him that ardent desire for know- ledge, which he afterwards endeavoured to satisfy amid the tumult of war, and when harrassed by circumstances the most intricate, and business the most urgent. Deterred by the fearful example of others, he early learnt to shun excess and intemperance ; and throughout his whole life, not only practised moderation himself and introduced it into his family and household, but also issued salutary edicts against drunkenness, in order to eradicate that deeply rooted propensity of the Germans. His vigorous understanding, and his mind, naturally susceptible of all
RESTORATION OF THE COURT SCHOOL. 19
that was great and beautiful, found in the circumstances of his early youth ample materials for serious reflection and noble resolutions. We must remember how readily the young mind embraces all that is presented to it, and how deep and permanent is the impression of every thing which really awakens the imagination, in order to be able properly to estimate the effect produced on the youthful Charles by his father's accession to the Merovingian throne, and his own consecration and coronation by Pope Stephen the Third.
As Charles increased in years, and especially after he had ascended the throne, he felt more and more keenly the want of education, both in himself and all who sur- rounded him. A monarch possessing a mind less exalted than his, would, in his situation, have protected the ignorance which he so strenuously sought to banish, and would have despised in others that in which he himself had no participation ; but his sentiments were far too noble to admit of his adopting such a course, and he endeavoured rather to remove the causes to which this deficiency in civilisation was to be attributed. His first step was to restore the court school, wherein the princes and sons of the nobility had formerly been educated, but which had been neglected during the tumult of the late tempestuous times. In consequence, however, of the deficiency of competent persons to establish any regular system, he was compelled to have recourse to foreigners. On his return from his first expedition across the Alps, in the year 774, he brought with him two learned Italians, the deacon Paul, author of the history of Lombardy, and Peter, A.M. of_ Pisa. He appointed Peter master
20 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
of the court school, and himself received instruction from him in the Latin grammar : probably, he either died soon afterwards or was incompetent to his situation, as the establishment made no progress until the arrival of Alcuin.
3. — Alcuin as Instructor to the Kiny and Royal Family .
Alcuin arrived in France in the year 782, for the purpose of undertaking the management of the court school, the instruction of the king, and the education of the princes and princesses. In the same year, the Saxon rebellion commenced such a series of important and complicated political events, that it seems inconceivable how Charles could snatch a moment from the cares of state to devote to literary objects. Two years of un- disturbed tranquillity among the Saxons, had induced Charles to believe that he might venture to introduce French regulations among them. Accordingly, he com- menced by ordering a general levy of the Saxon troops ; no sooner, however, did the Saxons see themselves collected in considerable numbers, with arms in their hands, than the general feeling of hatred produced the determination of turning them, not against the enemies of the Franks, but against the Franks themselves. The cruel severity with which Charles punished this mutiny of the soldiers, united the whole body of Saxons against him. Two sanguinary engagements, the only pitched battles fought in this tedious war, distinguished the following year (783) ; and though the Saxons were
DUKE ARIGIS OF BENEVENTUM. 21
compelled to quit the field, from the superior discipline of their opponents, they continued, in separate parties, to make such an obstinate resistance, that Charles did not venture to lay aside his arms during the whole of the summer and winter of 784-5 ; and it was only by dreadful and barbarous devastation of the country, and by winning over some of the principal people by flattery and condescension, that he was at length enabled to reduce the chiefs, and afterwards the people, to sub- mission. The repose thus obtained was not of long duration. Duke Arigis of Beneventum, confiding in the distance at which his territories were placed from those of France, in the number and strength of his fortresses, and still more in his alliance with the Greeks, who were desirous of restoring to the throne of Lombardy the son of Desiderius, who had taken refuge at Constantinople, assumed an independence which obliged the king to cross the Alps. Charles knew well how to estimate and to overcome the difficulties annexed to a campaign in lower Italy. Had he determined, as usual, upon leading the army, not till after the May-meeting, across the Alps, he would have reached Beneventum in a season when the heat would have rendered all military operations im- practicable, or have produced sickness among the troops ; but so great was his authority, or the readiness of the Franks to serve him, that he commenced his march towards Italy in the autumn of 786. The Duke of Beneventum had, in his calculations, overlooked the power and abilities of his great opponent ; and when, early in the spring of 787, Charles suddenly entered his dominions, he was so completely taken by surprise that
22 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
he was glad to purchase the clemency of the victor by submission. Charles accepted his offers of subjection ; but not till he had made a sufficient display of his power to ensure obedience. No sooner, however, had he re- crossed the Alps for the purpose of chastising the duke of Bavaria for the part taken by him in this design against France, than Arigis, having entered into fresh negotiations with the Greeks, projected a scheme that might have proved dangerous to the Frank supremacy in Italy and Germany, had it been as skilfully executed as it was ably conceived. It was concerted that the Bava- rians and Avari on the one side, and the Greeks with the Lombards on the other, should rise simultaneously ; while it was expected that the Saxons would not fail to profit by this favourable moment to shake off the yoke of oppression. The decision and good fortune of Charles, however, hurled back upon the author the1 blow aimed at the Franks. The untimely death of the duke of Beneventum, and the wise measures adopted by Charles, frustrated the landing of the Greeks in Italy ; and the second participation of Thassilo in this treasonable alli- ance was punished by the deposition of the duke, and the extinction of the dukedom of Bavaria. The Avari, who, according to the stipulations, invaded the French ter- ritories, encountered, in Charles, an irresistible oppo- nent, and involved themselves in a war which led to their political annihilation. The Saxons, so far from venturing on any hostile movement, accompanied the king in a campaign which he undertook the following year, 789, against the Sclavonians, a people inhabiting the right bank of the Elbe. He looked upon this river as the
CHARLEMAGNE'S LITERARY EXERTIONS. 23
natural eastern boundary of his kingdom, and endeavoured to secure it, not only by erecting fortresses, but by re- ducing the Sclavonians on the opposite bank to subjection. It was during these troublous times, that Alcuin first took up his abode at the court of France, and com- menced his labours for the mental improvement of the king, the royal family, and the people. One cannot but admire, with Alcuin1, the noble mind and extraordinary activity of Charles, and acknowledge the superiority of a man who, in the midst of so many distracting political cares and warlike operations, could occupy himself with literary pursuits, the value of which was at that time far from being generally acknowledged. It was only by scrupu- lously availing himself of every moment, that he could find time for these various employments. Even during his meals, he never failed to introduce either reading or instructive conversation2. The political constitution of France was so organised that it allowed the king to pass the winter months in tranquillity in the bosom of his family ; and if extraordinary circumstances obliged him to keep the field during that season, as he was compelled to do from the year 784 to 785, he required his family to join him3. He had therefore nearly eight winter months to spend in intercourse with Alcuin, and in literary occu- pations. What the subjects of study were, and how they were treated of in those times, we may best learn from Alcuin's works ; and as the importance of learning to the state and church of France was first recognised by Charles, the institutions established for its propagation would na- turally adopt the views which Alcuin as teacher, and Charles as learner, might entertain. In his commentary
24 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
on the Book of Ecclesiastes,1 Alcuin speaks of the division of the then known sciences. According to him, they are divided into Ethics, Physics, and Theology, and were really taught in the order in which they are here placed. This is more clearly explained in a discourse between himself and two of his pupils, to be found in the Introduction to his grammar.2 The students desire to be conducted to the higher branches of learning, and to be- hold the seven degrees of theoretic doctrine, so often promised. The teacher points out to them, Grammar, Rhetoric, Dialectic, Arithmetic, Geometry, Music, and Astronomy, or, as it was then called, Astrology. The first three (afterwards called the Trivium) formed the Ethics of Alcuin, and the four others, or the Quadrivium, the Physics: these two parts were only preparatory studies for the highest of all, Theology. The knowledge of these sciences was to form and strengthen the mind for the understanding of the true faith, and to protect it against the erroneous doctrines of heretics.
There are still extant manuals by Alcuin, especially on the various branches of ethics, which enable us to describe his mode of treating them. As far as regards the first part of the Trivium, Grammar, he adopts the form of a conversation between two students, a Saxon and a Frank, who receive from their master information on those points which they do not comprehend. Latin was not, in those days, in the same degree as at present, a dead language : it was still spoken in several parts of the Frank kingdom, and constantly used in all public transactions, and also in the church. A grammar written at that period, must necessarily be purely practical. In our schools
ALCUIN'S GRAMMAR. 25
Latin is considered the best medium of instruction for young people ; because it unites in itself the double ad- vantage of being the best means of developing the under- standing in a logical manner, and of imparting at the same time the knowledge of a foreign language. None of the modern languages, which, on account of their practical utility, the philanthropist would wish to substi- tute for it, can supply what the Latin affords. Who- ever is well grounded in Latin, may readily acquire a knowledge of all the modern tongues ; less because some of them are derived from it, than because a mind which has been strengthened by the study of the Latin grammar, only requires a little practice, in order to comprehend the peculiarities of a modern language, and to use it with facility. But in Alcuin's times, Latin was not learned so perfectly, nor with this view ; and his grammar is conse- quently nothing more than a system of forms. (He treats of single words and their forms, without specifying how they are to be used in the construction of a sentence. ) We do not find any thing that is necessary to be known, omitted : still, we cannot but disapprove the inconvenient arrangement, and want of accuracy in the definitions.
The beginning of the section on prepositions, may serve as an example.1 To the question, " What is a pre- position?" the answer is, "An indeclinable part of speech.'' Here, an accidental outward form is made the principal characteristic, and is so much the less accurate, as there are many other words besides prepositions which are indeclinable. Equally defective is the reply to the second question on the use of the prepositions, " They must be placed before other parts of speech, either by being
26 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
compounded with, or united to them." A peculiarity like this can only be a sign, not a definition; and, besides, this explanation excludes all the prepositions that are placed after their cases. Alcuin^sgrammar is evidently written more for the memory than the uiiderstanding. The examples are selected from the classics, most of them from Virgil ; some from 'Ference, Juvenal, Luca.n, and Cicero.
An appendix to the grammar treats of orthography. It is no small merit in Alcuin, that he recommended by his example, and facilitated by his instructions, accuracy in the transcription of books. (But for him, many of the manuscripts of the middle ages would have been still more defective than they are.) He is, therefore, entitled to the thanks of the whole of western Europe, whose high degree of cultivation and enlightenment is derived from those works of antiquity preserved by the care and dili- gence of the monks. In the monastery of St. Martin of Tours, of which Alcuin afterwards became abbot, a room called The Museum was specially appropriated to the transcribers. On the walls, verses were written1 strictly enjoining them to avoid inserting any words not war- ranted by the original, but founded only on their own ideas, and cautioning them against too great rapidity in writing. They were also recommended to make the proper breaks2, and to be careful of the right^ punctua- tion. For this purpose, Alcuin had written a book on orthography, of which there remains only an abstract made by a monk of Saltzburg, for the use of himself and others. It contains a short list, alphabetically arranged,
ALCUIN'S RHETORIC. 27
principally of such words as are sounded alike but spelt differently, of synonymous and irregular verbs.
The grammar acquainted the learner simply with words ; the formation of sentences was taught by Logic in the most extended sense of the term, which naturally divides itself into two parts; — Rhetoric, or the art of convincing others, and Dialectic, or the art of distinguish- ing truth from falsehood.
The subject of Rhetoric is discussed in a dialogue between Charlemagne and Alcuin ; the questions of the king serving to elicit the principles of the teacher. The treatiseis entirely confined to forensic eloquence ; anda¥ the rules are taken from the Romans, so also do their principles of jurisprudence form the groundwork of this composition. It would have been an invaluable trea- sure, had it described to us the actual proceedings in a Frank court of justice, instead of representing the liti- gations which the ancient rhetoricians had partly invented, and partly taken from real life and from history. In those times, when simple cases were easily decided, and the more complicated submitted to the judgment of God, such a system of rhetoric was of no practical importance ; but it was calculated to give acuteness and precision to the understanding, and accustomed the student to express himself with ease and fluency. At the conclusion of the treatise is a short discourse on tEc virtues. Here, also, Alcuin retains the classification of the ancient philosophers, but with an adaptation to the ideas of Christianity. This appears to me sufficiently interesting to deserve a literal quotation. " I wonder," observes the king, " that we Christians should so often depart from virtue, though we
28 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
have eternal glory promised as its recompense by Jesus Christ, who is Truth itself ; whilst the heathen philoso- phers steadily pursued it merely on account of its intrinsic worth, and for the sake of fame."
Alcuin. — " We must rather deplore than wonder, that most of us will not be induced to embrace virtue either by the fear of punishment or the hope of promised reward."
Charles. — " I see it, and must, alas ! acknowledge, that there are many such. I beg you, however, to inform me as briefly as possible, how we, as Christians, are to under- stand and regard these chief virtues."
Alcuin. — " Does not that appear to you to be wisdom, whereby God, after the manner of human understanding, is known and feared, and his future judgment believed ?"
Charles. — " I understand you ; and grant that nothing is more excellent than this wisdom. I also remember that it is written in Job, Behold, the wisdom of man is the fear of God. And what is the fear of God, but the worship of God, which in the Greek is called Geoo-^ia."
Alcuin. — " It is so : and farther, what is righteousness but the love of God, and the observance of his com- mandments ?"
Charles. — " I perceive this also, that nothing is more perfect than this righteousness, or rather that there is no other than this."
Alcuin. — " Do you not consider that to be valour whereby a man overcomes the * Evil One/ and is enabled to bear with firmness the trials of the world ?"
Charles. — " Nothing appears to me more glorious than such a victory."
Alcuin. — " Is not that temperance which checks desire,
ALCUIN'S LOGIC. 29
restrains avarice, and tranquillises and governs all the passions of the soul ?"
The king agrees to this also, and thus the whole dialogue concludes.
The treatise on the second part of Logic, or the third part of Ethics, is a continuation of the former ; and therefore, also, in the form of a dialogue betwixt Alcuin and his royal pupil. The rules and examples given for the formation of syllogisms are quite in the style of Aristotle's category, on which indeed the work is founded, without any of the subtleties and absurd sophistry of the later schoolmen, who were disputants by profession, and could not calculate upon a victory on which depended their reputation and their very existence, unless they possessed sharper weapons of attack, and higher entrench- ments of dialectic forms for their defence than their ad- versaries. The examples are taken in part from the Latin authors, particularly from the works of Virgil and Cicero.
The three subjects of the Trivium had no particular reference to the daily interests of life, affecting them only in so far as they tended to the general improvement of the mind. They were useful as the handmaidens of theology, and intended for the support of the true faith ; but when an impetus has once been given to thought, it is impos- sible to prescribe its course. The mind now aroused to philosophical research, boldly instituted an enquiry into the dogmas of the church, testing them, not by their ex- ternal authority but by their internal worth. It will be seen that during the reign of Charlemagne, the pre- tensions of the Church, and during that of his son and
30 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
successor, the administration of public affairs, underwent a rigorous investigation. It was neither the superior justice of their cause, nor the weight of their influence, that procured for the sons of Louis the Pious the victory over their father ; but the talents of men like Agobard, who considered a reform in the state necessary, and who hoped to see accomplished in their own way, by the sons who were dependent on them, those schemes which the father had neither sufficient independence of mind, nor reckless firmness of character to execute. The science of Ethics, therefore, as it was then taught, was important as a means of liberating the mind from the shackles of superstition and despotism. Had it extended throughout all classes, as Charlemagne intended, it would have given a very different aspect to the character of the middle ages ; but the laity being opposed to the clergy merely as a physical force, the latter had all the advantage of edu- cation on their side, and of course obtained the victory in every intellectual contest.
The four component parts of Physics were of a more practical kind, and applicable to the objects of ordinary life. Although Alcuin has not systematically developed his views in any work on the subject, still there exists a sufficient number of passages in his letters to Charles, to indicate his method, and the share which the king took in those scientific pursuits. Astronomy was the study that chiefly interested him. This science affords to the mind which has not yet arrived at a perfect consciousness of its own capabilities, an external object to which it may elevate itself, and from which it may obtain a standard whereby to measure its own power ; for there is some-
CHARLEMAGNE'S CALENDAR. 31
thing sublime in the thought that the laws of nature, to which our material being must do homage, are subordi- nate to our intellectual faculties. The king studied it, also, with a view to the accurate admeasurement of time, and the formation of a fixed calendar so important for the .regulation of life both in church and state. He required Alcuin to calculate1 the lunar and solar year, and to ex- plain, from astronomical observations, the cause of the overplus of ten hours and a half in each month, in con- sequence of which the year gained five days, six hours, and every fourth year an intercalary day2. The com- pletion of the nineteen years' cycle, in the year 797, having rendered the intercalation of a day necessary, in order to avoid confusion in the calendar, Alcuin pro- posed counting thirty-one days in the month of No- vember. At that time, but contrary to his will, a new method of calculation, the Alexandrian reckoning, had insinuated itself into the court school ; and a dispute arose as to the period when the year should commence. Those who adopted the new method insisted that the year ought to begin at the autumnal equinox, when the light of day is becoming shorter, and the darkness of night longer ; whilst Alcuin maintained that the commencement of in- creasing light, the winter solstice, a time which also coincided with the festival of Christmas, was a more con- venient period. He ridicules his opponents with much ingenuity and bitterness. " Darkness/' he says, " might be very suitable to Egyptians; but he rejoiced that he had escaped from it, with Moses, to live and to abide in the precious land of light ; and that on no account would he, nor should the king either, return to Egyptian darkness.
32 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
Charles was such an attentive observer of the heavens that nothing remarkable occurred without attracting his notice, and awakening his reflection. From the month of July, 798, till the same month in the following year, the planet Mars was nowhere visible in the heavens ; wherefore, the king, who had in vain sought for it in the constellation Cancer, asked Alcuin whether its disap- pearance was to be attributed to its own natural course, or to the power of the sun, or to a miracle.1 These facts sufficiently attest the interest which Charles took in as- tronomy, and confirm the passing remark of Einhard, that the king devoted more time and pains to astronomy2 than to any other science. It seems he was desirous of constructing a German almanac ; at all events, the intro- duction of German names of the months originated with him ; some he borrowed from the Anglo-Saxon, and some he invented. He called January Winter-month ; February, Horning-month ; March, Spring-month ; April, Easter-month ; May, Pleasure-month ; June, Fallow-month ; July, Hay-month ; August, Harvest- month ; September, Meadow-month ; October, Wind- month ; November, Autumn-month ; December, Holy- month.
Astronomy, like the other branches of physics, was, in Alcuin's opinion, to be regarded as a science principally in its reference to theology. Its object was to afford to the doubting mind the most convincing evidence of the existence of a Creator, to awaken in the believer the highest veneration of the wisdom of the A Imighty, and to strengthen his faith1. Even arithmetic first derived its title to be considered a science from its adaptation to
INTERPRETATION OF NUMBERS. 33
Theology. The numbers in the Holy Scriptures, for in- stance, could not escape the mystical interpretation which it was the fashion of those times to give, and which was held to be essential to the right faith ; they were supposed to contain a hidden meaning, which Arithmetic would help to disclose. Alcuin's method, and the acuteness with which he traces through all its windings a theory, which, however perverted it may seem, was by no means destitute of ingenuity, will be best seen in a letter of which the following is a literal translation. It is ad- dressed to one of his pupils named Onias or Daphnis1 ; and explains the passage in the Song of Solomon, wherein it is said, vi. 8. " There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines and virgins without number." He writes thus : — " An accurate acquaintance with numbers, teaches us that some are even, others uneven ; that of the even numbers, some are perfect, others imperfect ; and further, that of the imperfect numbers, some are greater, others less. All numbers are unequal that cannot be divided into two equal parts, such as 7 or 9, which, if divided, will be found to contain unequal parts. Of the equal numbers, some are perfect, others imperfect. A perfect number is one which is formed entirely of its aliquot parts, which will divide without leaving a frac- tional remainder, and the sum of whose parts is neither greater nor less than the whole. Take, for example, the number 6 ; the half of 6 is 3, the third is 2, and the sixth 1, which parts added together make 6 ; thus producing no fractions by division, nor overplus by the addition of the aliquot parts. The perfect Creator, therefore, who made all things very good, created the world in six days,
34 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
in order to show that every thing that he had formed, was perfect in its kind. On the other hand, if we divide the numher 8, we shall find that the sum of its parts is less than the whole. The half of 8 is 4, the fourth is 2, the eighth 1, which parts, when added together, produce not 8 but 7 ; 1 + 2 + 4 = 7 not 8. On this account, when the human race after the flood replenished the earth, they originated from the number 8 ; for we read that 8 persons were in Noah's ark, from whom all man- kind is descended ; thus indicating that the second race is less perfect than the first, which had heen created in the number 6. As Adam was formed on the sixth day out of the virgin earth, so also our Redeemer, the restorer of the primitive perfection was born of the Virgin Mary in the sixth age of the world, in order to proclaim by his coming the perfection of the number 6, which had been intimated at the creation of the first man. We see, moreover, the progression of numbers in certain regular series until they become infinite. The first progression of numbers is from 1 to 10, the second from 10 to 100, the third from 100 to 1000. The same rule of perfec- tion or imperfection that applies to the first series from
1 to 10, applies also to the second from 10 to 100. For as the number 6 when divided by units is found to be perfect, so also will the number 60, when divided by tens, the 10 in this case taking the place of the unit. The division of 60 into its aliquot parts is as follows ; the half of 60 is 30, like as 3 is the half of 6 ; the third is 20, as
2 is of 6 ; and 10 stands in the place of the unit ; these parts, when added together, make 60 : — thus -— 10 + 20 + 30 = 60; as 1 + 2 + 3 = 6. The same
INTERPRETATION OF NUMBERS. 35
rule cannot be applied to the division of 80 ; for of 80, the half is 40, the fourth 20; the eighth 10; the sum of which is not 80 but 70 5 for 10 -f 20 + 40 = 70.
" The sixty queens and eighty concubines are the mem- bers of the holy church. Of these, some devote them- selves to teaching purely from love to Christ ; others who seek worldly advantage, labour, indeed, in the church, but it is for the sake of temporal gain, not from a longing after the heavenly country, that they are willing thus to toil. The latter are compared in their imperfection to the number 80 ; but the former in their perfect holiness are denoted by the number 60. They are worthy the name of queens, because they, simply from love to the bridegroom and a desire to multiply the heirs of heaven, seek to perpetuate a blessed succession by means of baptism and instruction. The others, on the contrary, are designated by the name of concubines, because, although they also, through baptism and instruction, often produce wrorthy sons, yet, being actuated by the love of this world and the ambition of acquiring earthly honour, they them- selves remain unhonoured. With such, I beseech thee, my dearest son, avoid all fellowship ; and if through the mercy of God thou shouldst hereafter become worthy to be an instructor, labour unceasingly from love to him who shed his blood for thy salvation, in order that thou mayest obtain in recompense, not perishable riches, but everlasting glory round the throne of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be praise and glory for ever and ever. Amen/'
All the numbers that occur in the Holy Scriptures were at that time interpreted in a similar manner; and it
36 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
was only in this point of view that Alcuin would allow arithmetic to possess any scientific utility or any power to afford intellectual enjoyment1. Consequently, geometry, which would admit of no such application, held a subordi- nate rank, so long as the value of science was calculated solely with reference to theology ; while, on the other hand, music was held in high estimation. The importance of music in divine service was too great, not to secure for it a prominent place amongst the subjects of instruction in the schools at that period. To the service of God, solemnities are essential which are able to set the spirit free from the common cares and interests of life, and to attune it to the sublimest sentiments of devotion. Nothing short of a revolution, which, in the violence with which it overturns all existing institutions, brings about the opposite extreme, could have induced men to sever the connection between the arts and religion, to banish all ceremonies and to sub- stitute a cold morality for the heart-stirring doctrines of religion. The churches robbed of their decorations became mere lecture-rooms, the pulpit was degraded into the professor's chair, whence the teacher delivered to his ] audience a discourse on morals. But as soon as the ex- citement produced by such contests has subsided, a mere address to the understanding will be found incompetent to rouse men from apathy, and the necessity of adopting some mode of external worship that shall appeal directly to the feelings will become apparent. In the absence of other means, appropriate music and singing are and ever will be the simplest, and at the same time the most effec- tual. What at that time was called music, was nothing more than chaunting ; but this defect Charlemagne
ALCUIN'S RESPECT FOR THE POPE. 37
endeavoured to remedy to the best of his ability ; for he himself had a taste for music, which he cultivated under Alcuin's instruction. The choir of his cathedral was the most celebrated in France, and was considered a model for that of all the other churches'.
The system of Theology, and the interest taken by Charles and his friends in the studies appertaining to it, will find a more appropriate place for discussion, when the controversy betwixt the orthodox church and the new sect of Adoptionists passes under review. It is probable that during his first residence at court, Alcuin communi- cated to the king his views on many subjects of importance both to the church and state ; especially his sentiments with regard to the position of the Pope. As an Anglo- Saxon, he was imbued with the most humble and profound reverence for the holy see. In a letter to Hadrian the first2, he acknowledges the Pope as the worthy successor of St. Peter, and styles him the heir of the power granted by Christ to the apostles, of binding and loosing in heaven and on earth. He found the papal authority already firmly established in the French kingdom, particu- larly in that portion of it which was purely German ; for the restoration of Christianity in those parts, where it had been formerly professed, and the introduction of it where it was utterly unknown, had been principally effected by the Anglo-Saxons.
The veneration felt by the Germans for their heathen priests was adroitly transferred by these Missionaries to the ministers of Christianity, and particularly to the sovereign pontiff, the Pope, of whom men conceived ideas magnified in proportion to the distance at which he
38 THE LIFE OF ALCUJN.
governed. A model for the establishment of a hierarchy had been already furnished in the history of the Jewish nation, with which, through the medium of the Old Tes- tament, the people were more conversant than with that of their own country, and which could not fail to have a considerable influence upon their political opinions. The Jewish polity afforded not merely the only rule that could be applied to public measures, and the only source from which the principles of administration could be derived ; but it was a pattern which seemed so much the more worthy of imitation, as it had originated in God himself. The Carlovingian family availed themselves of these opinions to promote their own advancement, and gave the theory a practical adaptation. Pepin concealed his usur- pation under the authority of the Pope, and sanctified his person and the crowa which he had so unjustly acquired, by causing himself and his family to be solemnly anointed first by St. Boniface, and afterwards by the Pope him- self. It is recorded in the Old Testament, that the high priest Samuel nominated and anointed a king at the com- mand of God, and that at the bidding of the same God, he deposed him in order to place another on his throne. The idea that the Pope was to be regarded as a second Samuel, who, like the former, was authorised to depose one king and consecrate another, was too convenient, not to become henceforth an important principle in all the political movements of the middle ages. Alcuin, there- fore, naturally regarded the authority of the Pope as the highest upon earth, and ventured to avow his sentiments to Charlemagne himself. In the same degree as the see of St. Peter, the prince of the apostles, was
SCALE OF TEMPORAL DIGNITIES. 39
superior to every earthly throne, the Pope who occupied his see could not but be considered superior to every earthly power. Next in rank to the papal came the im- perial dignity of the Byzantian emperors who governed the second Rome ; and then followed that of royalty. Alcuin adds, however, by way of sweetening the bitter pill with a little flattery, that if King Charles theoretically held the third rank amongst the rulers of the earth, he practically by his power, his wisdom, and the splendour of his kingdom held the first.1 It is by no means surprising, that while opinions such as these were current in the world, the decretals of the false Isidorus should have been forged, and obtained credit. Though the grossness of the forgery is apparent on the very face of the work, the sentiments which it contained were neither new nor unheard of, but were compounded of principles already universally acknowledged, and of inferences deduced from those principles. The whole scheme of the Roman hierarchy, as it afterwards displayed itself, was devised at this period, and although retarded by subsequent un- favorable circumstances, it was sufficiently matured to burst forth at the first call of a bold and intrepid spirit in all its imposing grandeur.
C The sentiments of Alcuin with regard to the war in which Charlemagne was engaged with the Saxons, deserve some notice, although they had no influence on the course of events. He could not but applaud the efforts of the king to introduce the Christian religion among the Saxons ; but the manner in which he strove to accomplish his wish by no means met his approval. Men of energetic character, like Charles, are usually inflexible
40 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
in the prosecution of their designs, and look upon every concession to existing circumstances as a proof of weak- ness. The acceptance of Christianity by the Saxons, as Charles desired, involved not merely a change of their religion, but also of their civil constitution, which was founded upon it ; so that the nobility, whose pre-eminence was derived solely from their priestly office, struggled less for their gods than for their rank and political ex- istence. Alcuin was aware of the manner in which his pagan ancestors, who were descended from the same stock, and had professed the same religion as the Saxons, had been converted to Christianity. He knew that it had not been effected by external violence, but by permis- sion. The king and his nobles willingly resigned the influence they possessed as priests, since the new religion secured to them equal influence through the medium of bishopricks and abbacies. He thought it his duty to recommend to the king a similar mode of proceeding. He counselled him to present Christianity to the Saxons under its fairest aspect, and to alleviate the burthens attached to it as much as possible at its introduction. Above all things, he warned the king against the imme- diate imposition of tithes. The Christian clergy were in- debted for this tribute (the idea of which was borrowed from the Old Testament) to the artfulness with which they laid claim to the position of the Jewish priesthood, thereby transferring to themselves the advantages enjoyed by that body. Alcuin's reasons do honour both to his heart and to his understanding, since they prove that he was entirely free from the blind zeal of the priests. He doubts, in the first place, whether the tithe be a necessary
ALCUIN'S OPINIONS CONCERNING TITHES. 41
burthen upon Christianity, as it would be difficult to find an instance wherein the Apostles exacted this tribute, or bequeathed to their successors any right so to do. If Charles, however, were determined to insist on the tithe, he entreats him at least to consider, that a tax which the established Christians reluctantly consented to pay1, would naturally alienate the minds of new converts from a doctrine which they saw to be oppressive even at its announcement. In his opinion, the introduction of the tithe system would not be advisable, until Christianity had been acknowledged by the Saxons as the means of salvation, and had become endeared to them in such a degree, that they would consider no burthen connected with it as too heavy. He urges, therefore, the sending of such of the clergy as were more concerned for the welfare of the church than for their own advancement, and whose characters were calculated to enforce the doc- trines which they taught. In conclusion, he mentions three subjects with which converts should become acquainted, previous to their baptism ; first, the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, with a description of the joys prepared for the good in heaven, and the torments which await the wicked in hell ; then that of the Holy Trinity ; and lastly, the most important doctrine, that of the redemption of mankind by Jesus Christ2. Charles did not follow this salutary advice ; and to his obstinacy, may be attributed the long continuance of tiie Saxon war for years, and which he could not bring to a conclu- sion until he had executed some of his chief adversaries, banished others, and conciliated the rest by the grant of fiefs.
42 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
In what other political affairs, Alcuin was engaged during his first residence of eight years at the Frank Court, we are ignorant, as the portion of his extensive correspondence, which is extant, refers to a later period) but we know that his (chief efforts were directed to litera- ture, for not only the king, but his sons and daughters likewise were under his tuition. The more Charles felt the value of a learned education, the more anxious he became that his children should be carefully instructed, that he might never hear from them the reproach which he, perhaps, sometimes silently cast upon his father. Under such circumstances, however, education easily takes a wrong direction, for if it endeavour too greatly to accelerate the progress of cultivation at a time when it is neglected by the many, and appreciated only by the few, it inevitably tears asunder all sympathy between the pupil and his contemporaries. Whilst he looks upon them as Barbarians, they regard him as a Sybarite, and thus is engendered a feeling of mutual hostility which cannot but be injurious to the state. A proof of this was exhibited in the education, and consequent fantastic schemes of Otho III. king of Germany, and emperor of Rome. Charles, however, was wise enough to avoid this error by combining intellectual instruction with the na- tional studies of the Franks. The beautiful simplicity of those times may be seen in a picture, sketched by Einhard, of the domestic life of Charlemagne. Whilst the sons perfected themselves in corporeal exercises, rode with their father to the chace, or accompanied him to battle, that they might acquire under his own eye that proficiency in the use of arms so necessary to a Frank
DOMESTIC LIFE OF CHARLEMAGNE. 43
prince, the daughters remained at home occupied in weaving or spinning. At dinner, the whole family as- sembled at the same table. When travelling, the king rode between his sons, and his daughters followed like- wise on horseback. Both were instructed by Alcuin in all the learning of the times.1 A small treatise still to be found among Alcuin's works containing the substance of a conversation between himself and Charles's second son Pepin2, shows the method by which he endeavoured to quicken the faculties of the mind, and impart a facility of expression. For example, Pepin is asking for infor- mation respecting certain words, Alcuin explains them, not by giving their precise signification, but by circum- locution, or by rendering the sense with a poetical turn of expression. Many of the answers are sufficiently striking and acute to awaken reflection. The prince asks for instance, " What is the liberty of man ?" and receives for answer, " Innocence." To Pepin's question : — " W7hat is the Moon ?" Alcuin replies, " The eye of night, the dispenser of dew, the herald of tempests." These are attributes of the moon belonging either to its nature or its effects, arrayed in the mantle of poetry. At the conclusion, they exchange parts, and Alcuin proposes to his pupil problems to solve, and questions to answer, calculated to habituate the mind to quickness of appre- hension, and a facility in discovering the most compre- hensive terms to express every idea. WTe perceive from Alcuin's letters, that at a later period, the princes Charles, Pepin, and Louis, honoured and respected him as their master, and that the king's sister and daughter, Gislaa, sought his instructions, both verbally and by writing.
44 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
In the year 796, Louis having made a successful cam- paign against the Avari, and taken numerous prisoners, Alcuin wrote to King Charles, entreating him to ransom them, which request, being seconded by the prince, was granted. Alcuin expressed his gratitude in a letter to the prince, and annexed to it a list of exhortations which deserve to be quoted as a specimen of his style, and as illustrating the position in which he stood towards his royal pupil, " Most illustrious prince," he writes, " seek to adorn thy noble rank by noble deeds, endeavour with all thy might to do the will and promote the honour of almighty God, that through his favour, which is above all price, the throne of thy kingdom may be exalted, its limits extended, and the people subdued to thy govern- ment. Be liberal to the poor, be kind to strangers, devout in the service of Christ, and hold in reverence the ministers of his church, whereby thou wilt receive the assistance of their fervent prayers. Let thy conduct be upright and chaste. Love the wife of thy youth, and suffer no other woman to share thy affections, that the blessing of God that rests upon thee may descend to a long line of thy posterity. Be formidable to thy foes, be true to thy friends, favourable to Christians, terrible to Heathens, accessible to the poor, prudent in following counsel. Listen to the counsel of the old, but employ the young to execute it. Let justice and equity prevail, and let the praise of God resound at the appointed hours throughout thy kingdom, but especially in thy presence. Such pious regard to the duties prescribed by the church, will render thee acceptable to God, and honoured by man. Let feelings of humility dwell in thy heart, the words of
ALCUIN'S STYLE OF EXHORTATION. 45
truth on thy lips, and let thy life be a pattern of integrity, that it may please God to prosper and protect thee1."
Alcuin is fond of indulging in such exhortations to young people, though nothing can be more inefficacious than a list of precepts. In communicating the doctrines of morality, they must be addressed either to the feelings, or to the understanding ; a cold enumeration, therefore, of virtues that imparts no distinct ideas to the one, nor any glow to the other, must necessarily fail to produce the desired effect. Alcuin himself was a living example to the pupils who immediately surrounded him ; but to his friends at a distance, he wrote these, as they-seem to me, well intended rhetorical flourishes.
Two letters addressed to Charles the younger, the king's eldest son, contain similar sentiments. The first congratulates him on his coronation, an event with which we are made acquainted only by these letters, and which must have taken place in the year 800. It admonishes him to fulfil the duties of his high station, and advises him to take his father as a model for his conduct2. Although Charles the younger exactly resembled his father, and was his favourite, Alcuin does not seem to have been well satisfied with him. The mind of this active prince was more disposed for the stirring business of life than for the stillness of contemplation, and was less influenced by the exhortations of his master, than the latter hoped and expected ; perhaps also, like Charlemagne in his younger days, he was more attached to the society of women than accorded with Alcuin's views. At all events, he thought it necessary to ask his permission to lay before him, in a friendly correspondence, some remarks on many
46 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
parts of his conduct which he considered censurable. He proposes to him as an example, his brother Louis, who not only listened to his counsel, but followed it.1 None of his letters to Louis are extant ; but from the passage just quoted, we may infer that he held the highest place in his estimation, and that he expected France would enjoy golden days under his administration. The submission to the will of God, which Alcuin admired so much in Louis, and his humility towards the ministers of the church, were qualities that originated less in real piety than in a want of independence of spirit. It is, therefore, a mark of narrow-minded partiality, if Alcuin wished that Louis might become the sole successor of his father, and no proof of his great political sagacity, if he considered him the most worthy.2 The very docility which, in his youth, Louis displayed towards Alcuin, became afterwards ruinous to the French empire. A prince must, at all times, but especially under circumstances such as those of France, at that period, be something more than a learned and a benevolent man.
It was, however, quite natural that the female part of the family of Charlemagne submitted to Alcuin's instructions with unlimited confidence, and found his system of Theology so much the more pleasing, the more scope it afforded for the exercise of the feelings, and the less it required the exertion of the understanding or of speculative reasoning. Charles's sister, Gisla, often applied to him for consolation and information ; he wrote expressly for her, and one of her Christian friends, Rich- trud, or Columba, a commentary on the Gospel of St. John, of which I shall hereafter speak more particularly.
IMMEDIATE INFLUENCE OF CHARLEMAGNE. 47
It is natural to suppose that Charles's daughters enjoyed similar advantages. This supposition is indeed partly confirmed by facts. Alcuin, in a letter to the king, re- quests him to reply to some questions which had been proposed to Alcuin by one of the princesses. In a psalm sung during divine service, she had been struck by these words, " All men are liars." She enquires, therefore, whether this applies to infants, and dumb persons, whose lips have never uttered a word ? She asks farther for the explanation of a passage in the same psalm, which is to her incomprehensible. " What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits towards me." In another psalm, it seems to her, that the assurance, " The sun shall not burn thee by day, nor the moon by night,1" is falsely expressed ; as she cannot understand how the same pro- perty could be ascribed to the moon, whose nature is cold and damp, as to the sun1.
The ardour with which Charles studied the sciences, and caused his family to be instructed therein, could not fail to influence all around him. As the taste of the Court refined, a literary tone became predominant, which none but those whose minds harmonised with it, could appreciate or enjoy. It was, however, principally the immorality of the clergy that shocked the religious feelings of Charles, and their ignorance that disgusted his cultivated understanding. Whoever, therefore, now aspired to preferment, either in the church or state, was obliged to imitate the example of the king, and obtain his favour on conditions entirely different from those of former times. Thus, without any compulsory edict, reform rapidly advanced ; and Alcuin hoped to see a new
48 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
Athens arise in France, possessing privileges higher than the ancient, in proportion to the superiority of the wisdom of Christ to the philosophy of Plato.1 In the new system of civilisation, Charles was, as it were, the sun, whose light illuminated, first the narrow sphere of his own family, then the more extensive circle of his immediate acquaintance, and was finally to spread over the ever- widening orbit of the whole nation. The establishment of schools was, however, requisite for the attainment of this object ; and this became Charles's first care, as soon as he had awakened a desire for improvement, and pro- cured competent teachers.
4. — Establishment of the higher and lower Schools in the Kingdom of France.
From the preceding exposition of Alcuin's opinions re- specting the theory and practical adaptation of the sciences then in use, it will be readily concluded, that in the schools about to be erected, theology and philosophy would form the chief subjects of education. What the church and state require of those who devote themselves to their service, depends upon the exigencies of the times and the nature of circumstances. The government of France with regard to its finances, its military consti- tution and its laws, was so simply organised, that there needed not a distinct profession for each branch of public business, nor was any other knowledge required than that which was essential to common life. A vigorous arm^ a courageous heart, and a sound understanding, fitted a man in those days for the management of the affairs of state ; so that he who to-day presided in a court of
EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY. 49
justice, appeared the next day at the head of an army, or, at another time, was seen in a foreign court charged by his sovereign with a diplomatic commission. It was requisite, that he should be acquainted with Latin^as all written negotiations were carried on in that language. The ecclesiastic, however, had to pursue another course of study, yet Latin formed also the groundwork of his learning ; for none but a few distinguished men made such progress in Greek and Hebrew as to be able to read the sacred writings in their original tongues- Amid the strife of contending sects and contradictory opinions, the Christian religion had been gradually erected into a solid fabric of doctrines and ceremonies. The whole of western Christendom adhered at that time to the Catholic faith, which was beginning to separate from the Greek church, and to assume the characteristics of the Roman Catholic. The doctrines of the orthodox church were contained in the works of the fathers who had either philosophically expounded the Holy Scriptures, or had opposed the heresies of their times. It was necessary that the ecclesiastic should study these also ; and in order rightly to understand them, he was obliged to make him- self acquainted with the sciences which have been characterised in a preceding chapter. In the establish- ment of new schools, regard was naturally paid to these demands of church and state ; but as ordinary minds aim at no higher objects than those proposed by the state ; some institutions which may be denominated Universities, enlarged the course of instruction for the benefit of those who were ambitious of knowledge.
In the latter part of the ninth century, a monk of the E
50 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
monastery of St. Gallen, collected the anecdotes of Charle- magne, which were current at that time, but like similar records of the great men of modern times, they are for the most part either fictitious, or the truth is so disguised, that it cannot be recognised. They have, however, an historical value, so far as they show the opinion entertained, in the time of Charles Le Gros, of the founder of the Carlo vingian dynasty, fallen as its power then was. The worthy monk gives, in his peculiar facetious, blunt style, much information respecting the efforts made by Charles to promote civilisation ; and relates the following anecdote when speaking of the estab- lishment of schools. Two Irishmen well skilled in all secular and ecclesiastical learning, came with some English merchants to the coast of Gaul, and offered wisdom for sale, " Does any man lack wisdom ? Let him come and take it, for here it is to be sold." The king no sooner heard of these adventurers, than he sent for them, and inquired whether they really had the article. They answered in the affirmative, and assured his majesty, that they were willing to dispose of it to every man, if the king would grant them a convenient dwelling, assign them pupils of promising abilities, and supply them with that without which human life cannot be sustained — food and clothing. Charles retained them in his palace for some time, and when the affairs of his kingdom called him into the field, he commanded one of them, named Clemens, to remain in Gaul, and placed under his tuition boys of all ranks from the highest to the lowest class. The other he sent into Italy to the monastery of St. Augustine at Pavia, in order to establish a school there. Encouraged
PREPARATORY MEASURES. 51
by this favourable reception, proceeds the monk, Alcuin came to Gaul, where his endeavours were crowned with such success, " that the modern Gauls or Franks might have been compared with the ancient Romans or Greeks."
This narrative confounds earlier with later events, and in the transition to Alcuin betrays evident marks of a tradition which is founded, indeed, upon fact ; but to which additions have been made without much regard to their truth or falsehood. The Irishman, Clemens, appears to be identical with one of that name who was an eminent professor among the Franks in the middle of the eighth century ; but who, by his heretical opinions, incurred the displeasure of St. Boniface, on whose accu- sation he was condemned by the pope1. But tradition has embellished his history with those fanciful decora- tions which are observable in the narrations of the monk of St. Gallen, and, like every thing else that regarded intellectual improvement, have a reference to Charle- magne. It appears, however, that previous to Alcuin's arrival, no public school of importance, except the court- school existed on the Cis-alpine territories ; and even after his arrival, five years elapsed before any decided step was taken. It was necessary to promote to bishoprics and abbacies, men capable of seconding Charles' designs, before he could attempt to execute them. The court-school, under Alcuin's superintendence, furnished, as might be expected, some able scholars ; others were attracted from foreign countries by the king's liberality, or rescued from obscurity by his penetration, and removed from an inferior sphere of action to a posi- E 2
52 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
tion more worthy of their talents. He elevated St. Paulinus to the patriarchate of Aquileia ; Leidrad obtained the archbishopric of Lyons. Theodulph, the bishopric of Orleans ; Arno, Alcuin's most intimate friend1 the arch- bishopric of Saltzburg ; all men illustrious for the extent of their learning, and full of zeal for its diffusion. When Charles returned from Italy in the year 786, (whither he had marched to oppose the duke of Beneventum), he brought with him a number of Italians capable of in- structing in singing, organ-playing, grammar, and cyphering.2 \ Having taken all these preparatory steps, the king caused circular letters to be sent to all the bishops and abbots in his kingdom, commanding the establishment of schools. In these letters, he says, that in the official reports that had been sent to him from the monasteries, he had perceived with much displeasure the imperfect and awkward manner in which thoughts in themselves correct were expressed ; and could not, there- fore, help doubting whether the meaning of the Holy Scriptures, and the doctrines of the Christian religion were properly understood. To call their attention to how much depended upon the right or wrong use of words, he reminds them of the passage in the Gospel where it is said : " By thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned." In order, therefore, to remedy this evil so perilous to the soul, he commands that a school should be attached to every cathedral church, and every monastery, without, however? specifying more minutely what was to be taught3. The kind of evil designed to be removed by this means, proves that originally the education of the clergy only was con-
GENERAL DIFFUSION OF EDUCATION. 53
templated ; ideas upon this point, however, soon became more enlarged, and, in pursuance of supplementary edicts, instruction was extended even to the lowest classes of the laity. The command is given in such positive terms, and obedience so forcibly inculcated by threats of the royal displeasure, that considering Charles' severity against wilful disobedience, the vigilance of his govern- ment, which, by means of its emissaries, was acquainted with the condition of the most distant provinces, neglect was not likely to ensue* The chronicles of the monastery of Fontenelle afford an example of the manner in which the king's mandate was executed even where there were no competent teachers. A man named Gervold, was, at that time, abbot of this monastery ; to whom the king's indignation at the ignorance of the clergy must have been so much the more formidable, as his own con- science was not quite clear in this matter. He hastened to obey the king's command in the best manner he was able. He opened a school in his monastery, in which singing, if nothing else, was taught ; for, adds the chronicler, "if he had not much skill in other sciences, he was a proficient in the art of singing, and was not defi- cient in sweetness or power of voice.1" He soon after associated with himself the presbyter, Harduin, who had for some time lived as a hermit ; but as an opportunity presented itself of employing his talents and acquire- ments for the benefit of others, he returned to the society of men, and gave instructions in writing and cyphering.2 This monastery of Fontenelle, may serve as a represen- tation of all the other schools that were founded in consequence of the royal command, but did not attain
54 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN,
to sufficient celebrity to be even incidentally mentioned in the writings of that period. Without entering into a detailed account of each separate school, a general de- scription may suffice. They were divided into three classes : to the first belonged all wherein the seven liberal arts, and the theological sciences were taught, and which, although chiefly designed for the education of the clergy, were open nevertheless to all who were desirous of qualifying themselves for secular employments. The school belonging to the monastery of St. Martin at Tours, which Alcuin founded at a subsequent period, and raised to eminence by his personal superintendence, may be consi- dered as a specimen of this class. In a letter to the king? Alcuin gives the following account of it : — " I, your Flaccus, in accordance with yonr admonitions and wishes, endeavour to administer to some in the house of St. Martin, the honey of the Holy Scriptures ; others I would fain intoxicate with the pure wine of ancient wisdom ; others 1 begin to nourish with the fruits of grammatical subtleties ; many I seek to enlighten by the order of the stars. But above all things, I strive to train them up to be useful to the holy church of God, and an ornament to your kingdom ; that the unmerited mercy shown to me by Almighty God, and your liberal kindness, may not be altogether fruitless.1"
This account states distinctly enough, that the object of the school at Tours was to give a liberal education to the officers of the church and state. All the schools of the first class had indeed the same object, but all had not the same means of attaining it as that at Tours, at the head of which was Alcuin himself seconded by the pupils
UNIVERSITIES. 55
who were best qualified to assist him. From what we can learn of other cathedral schools1, it appears that the greatest part of them stood in the same relation to the school at Tours and the court-school, as with us a public*^ school stands to the Universities. The title or character of university, or, in other words, of an institution where all the sciences of that period were taught, depended upon the personal qualifications of the director, and was not conferred on any particular place. The court-school naturally maintained this character the longest, because in that institution there were never wanting men of dis- tinguished abilities, who preferred residing where their talents would be best appreciated and rewarded ; with the rest, however, it was changed with the Principal, and was transferred at different times to different monasteries. At the sixth Parisian council held in the year 829, the assembled fathers presented a petition to the emperor, Louis the Pious, in which they most urgently but humbly besought his highness to establish by royal authority public schools in the three most convenient places in the empire, after the example of his father, and not to suffer the ef- forts made by Charlemagne for the increase of knowledge to fail from neglect. "This," added they, ''will conduce to the advantage and honour of the holy church of God, to the benefit of the state and to the everlasting glory of the emperor himself2." From this passage it appears, that in the reign of Charlemagne, there were places of tuition specifically denominated public schools, which fell into decay after his death ; but the utility of which, to the church and state, was so generally acknowledged, that their re-establishment was desired. They must have
56 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
been something different from the monastic schools, as they, so far from having ceased in the reign of Louis the Pious, were precisely at that time most flourishing, and in the most vigorous opera- tion ; an instance of which may be found in that of Fulda. These public schools were probably the superior establishments or universities, which were under the im- mediate direction of the state, and not subject to any bishop or abbot. The council urges the erection of three such schools, evidently with the design of establishing one in each of the three principal divisions of the French monarchy — France, Germany and Italy. Whether, how- ever, among the schools founded by Charlemagne, three only were characterised as public schools is un- known to us, and equally so the places where they were situated.
In order to attain the object proposed by the schools of the first class, a library was indispensable ; it consisted at its commencement of only a small collection of books, which, as we shall presently see, was augmented by copies of works deposited in English libraries, and also by pre- sents from Italy arid even from Constantinople. The alliance entered into by Charles' father, Pepin, with the Byzantine court, had also influenced the literary efforts of that period, by affording an opportunity of acquiring the Greek language, with which Alcuin appears to have been but imperfectly acquainted5. A native of Greece, the eunuch Eliseus, resided some time at the Frank court, for the purpose of teaching Greek to Charles' daughter, Rotrudis, who was betrothed to the emperor Constantine VI. The king probably availed himself of his assistance
CHURCH MUSIC. 57
in learning the little, which, according to Einhard's account1, he knew of that language. The discipline in these schools was severe, and the pupils were under con- stant superintendence, in order to restrain them from habits of idleness, from vain amusements, and frivolous occupations2.
To the second class, belonged the seminaries for sing- ing and ctiurch music ; of which those established at Metz and Soissons were originally the only ones, and long continued to be the most renowned. Charles was greatly annoyed by the French mode of singing ; for, besides, that their harsh guttural dialect was by no means adapted to melody, the people imagined the beauty of singing to consist in the loudness of the tone, and conse- quently endeavoured to out-scream each other. The reproach of the Italians was not unjust, that the French roared like wild beasts. It was only necessary for Charle- magne to have once heard the Roman church music, to cause him to desire and attempt an improvement in that of his own subjects. The national vanity of the French rendered them unwilling to admit the superiority of the Roman singing, but Charles proved that it was far better, and commanded that it should be adopted. Pope Hadrian I. who willingly seconded all the king's efforts for the reformation of the church, presented him with his two best singers, Theodore and Benedict, one of whom Charles established at Metz and the other at Soissons. There, every one who desired to teach singing in any of the other schools, or to become a chorister in a church, was now compelled to acquire the Roman method of singing ; in consequence of which this art became thence-
58 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
forth general on this side the Alps, and as perfect as the discordance of the French voices would permit1. Instruc- tion was also given at those institutions in organ-playing ; but so long as organs could only be obtained from foreign countries, a few, and those probably the principal, churches could alone be provided with them. The first organ seen in France was sent in the year 757, as a present from the Byzantine emperor, Constantine V. to king Pepin ; and it was not till the year 826, that organs began to be built in France. At that time, a Venetian, named George, presented himself to Louis the Pious, and offered both to build organs, and to teach the art to others ; an offer which the emperor accepted with pleasure, and ordered the artist to be provided with every requisite.2
The schools in which the commonest education was given, composed the third class, and were designed for those who moved in the subordinate ranks of life. Intellectual cultivation was not to be confined merely to the clergy, or to those among the laity whose birth and wealth called them to fill eminent stations in society ; but knowledge was to shed its beneficial influence upon the lowest classes. The decree made by Charles on this point, was published in the year 789, ami enforces again and again upon the monasteries the duty of establishing schools, in which reading, writing, cyphering, and singing, should be taught3. We see, in the instance of bishop Theodulph, of Orleans, how that command was obeyed; and there exists no reason to suppose, that it was not by degrees similarly attended to by the rest of the bishops. Theodulph caused a school to be opened in
CHARLEMAGNE'S INSPECTION OF THE SCHOOLS. 59
every village within his diocese, and expressly forbade the masters to accept from their pupils any other remunera- tion for the instruction afforded, than the voluntary presents which the parents might bestow, as a proof of their affection.1 This regulation was necessary, in order that the poor might not be deterred from attending the schools. Thus, was a more universal education secured to the lower orders, at the conclusion of the ninth cen- tury, than France can boast of in the nineteenth ; and it is impossible to calculate what might have been the effect, had the same spirit and zeal that first called these schools into existence, protected them until they had taken suffi- ciently deep root to subsist without external support. For in that case, the mental superiority of one class of society would never have been so great, as to allow of their op- pressing the minds of the other classes, and assuming a kind of guardianship over them. Charles himself omitted nothing that could be serviceable to these insti- tutions, and is even said, personally, to have acquainted himself with their arrangement and management, and to have ascertained the progress of the pupils by actual visits, exciting them to diligence, and deterring them from idleness. An anecdote related by the monk of St. Gallen. is illustrative of this, and though it was, perhaps, in- vented at a subsequent period, it is nevertheless founded on the fact, that thanking himself personally inspected the schools. According to the worthy monk's account, Charles once visited the school erected in pursuance of his command by the Irishman, Clemens. On examining the pupils, he made the very natural discovery, that the sons of the nobility, confiding in their rank and riches,
60 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
in no degree answered his expectations, whilst, on the other hand, the poor availed themselves of the opportunity afforded them of obtaining, by their own exertions, that which fortune had denied them. The king graciously commended the latter, and encouraged their zeal by pro- mising to promote them to high offices, and honourable stations in the church and state. The idle scholars, on the contrary, he reproved sharply, assuring them, with an impressive oath, that their birth was of no value in his eyes, and that it was their talents only that would e^er entitle them to receive any mark of favour from him1. Sentiments like these were peculiar to Charlemagne and no doubt similar occasions occurred in which they could not fail to produce an effect.
5. — Alcuin s Return to England.
The relation in which Alcuin stood towards Charle- magne, during the time of his first residence with him, may be compared to that of Voltaire or other learned Frenchmen towards Frederick the Great. They lived at the court of the king of Prussia, without rendering themselves his subjects by accepting any appointment, and without entering into any closer connection than that of mutual good-will and reciprocal benefits. In the same way, Alcuin was simply the preceptor and counsellor of Charles ; and the two monasteries assigned him2, are to be considered less as an office under the government, than a provision for defraying his necessary expenses . He looked upon his residence and exertions among the French as temporary, and terminating when the king's wishes were accomplished. He, therefore, avoided seeking any
ALCUIN'S ATTACHMENT TO ENGLAND. 61
permanent appointment, and refused to accept any when offered. So little did he desire to break off his connection with the kingdom of Northumberland as a subject, and with the church at York as a deacon, that he longed for nothing more earnestly than to be liberated from the dif- ficulties and literary privations consequent upon his resi- dence at the court of Charlemagne1, and to be able to re- turn to his books and learned occupations at York. "I have never been unfaithful to the people of England," he could conscientiously reply to the accusation, that he had become a Frank and had forgotten his native country2. He proved his fidelity by the use which he made of his in- fluence with the French king to procure several advan- tages for the English church, and to maintain a good understanding between Charlemagne and the princes of the Saxon heptarchy, among whom Offa, king of Mercia, held the first rank. He declined, it is true, the propositions made to him by the Anglo-Saxon princes, to take up his abode at their court ; but he sent some of his own pupils to supply his place. But there were duties which he owed to the kingdom of Northumberland, and the church at York ; and these he remembered so soon as he saw the literary institutions established by Charles in active operation, and the king surrounded by men capable of continuing and extending the work when begun. He then asked Charles's permission to return to his own country. Charlemagne knew too well how to value a man like Alcuin, to be willing to lose him, and prized too dearly the rare happiness of possessing a true and sincere friend, not to desire his longer, and, if possible, permanent residence, and to offer every thing that might
62 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
induce him to remain. But as Alcuin's conscience bore him testimony that he had not been allured to France1 by any prospect of worldly gain, but solely by the hope of being useful to the church and to science, the offer of high dignities and great riches made less impression upon him than the condescending request of a powerful prince. He therefore replied, " My lord king, I will not refuse thy wish if I can fulfil it without violating the commands of the church. Although I possess no small inheritance in my own country, I will willingly resign it, and in poverty serve thee, and remain with thee. Let it be thy care to obtain the permission of my king and my bishop." This seemed reasonable to Charles, as well as Alcuin's wish to revisit his native country after so long an absence. k He therefore dismissed him, with letters to the king of Northumberland and the archbishop of York. In order to retain him in his service, during his journey, he invested him with the character of a public ambassador, and com- missioned him to renew the good understanding between the French monarchy and Offa king of Mercia2. Offa, in consequence of the superiority of his talents, and the vigour of his operations, which were not restrained by any regard to right or wrong, had become the most powerful among the Anglo-Saxon kings ; and Charles had entered into alliance with him soon after his first journey across the Alps. Since the year 788, however, this harmony had been interrupted by misunderstandings occasioned by the political affairs of Wessex, so that even the commercial intercourse between France and England had ceased. After the death of Cenulph, king of Wes- sex, in 786, Offa, by his interposition, had procured the
ALCUIN AMBASSADOR TO ENGLAND. 63
throne for Britherich, in spite of the juster claims of Egbert. The deposed prince sought first in Mercia that safety which he could no longer hope to find in Wessex, until the marriage of Britherich with Offa's daughter Cadburga, rendered this retreat also dangerous. He therefore quitted England in 788, and took refuge at the court of Charles the Great, where he experienced a friendly reception, and found an opportunity of cultivating his talents, and of forming himself upon the model of a great king. The friendly treatment of Egbert, and the protection which many of his adherents found at the French court, were regarded by Offa and Britherich as expressions of hostility against them, and occasioned the interruption of the harmony which had hitherto existed between the two nations. Alcuin acquitted himself of his commission so successfully, that peace was not only re-established with Offa, but was, a few years later, con- firmed by a treaty, in which Charles engaged to secure to the Anglo-Saxon pilgrims, who were desirous of making a pilgrimage to Rome, a safe and free passage through his dominions, and also to take the merchants under his especial protection1.
64
SECTION III.
ALCUIN'S RETURN TO THE COURT OF CHARLEMAGNE, AND HIS PARTICIPATION IN RELIGIOUS AFFAIRS UNTIL HIS PERMANENT SETTLEMENT IN FRANCE. A. D. 790—796.
SHORTLY after Alcuin's arrival in his native country, there occurred one of those revolutions, of which the annals of Northumberland present so many instances. The division of the natural atrength of the kingdom, the mixed population, and the vicinity of the Scottish frontier, beyond which every rebel found safety, and frequently support, facilitated and occasioned sudden changes in the government. One king hurled another from his throne? only to give place in his turn to a third within the space of a few years. Alchred was scarcely seated on the throne, when those who had elevated him to it deserted him. He took refuge in Scotland and resigned his crown to Ethelred, against whom the thanes, Ethelwald and Heardbert, raised the standard of rebellion in 778, and compelled him to seek safety by flight. The sceptre was now transferred to the hands of Alfwold, who wielded it with sufficient vigour to retain it for the space of ten years. He could not, however, eventually escape the fate of his predecessors ; like them, he fell a victim to the inconstancy and treachery of the nobles of Northum- berland, in the year 7881. Alchred's son, Osred, took
MOTIVES OF ALCUIN'S RETURN TO FRANCE. 65
possession of the vacant throne, which he occupied at the period of Alcuin's arrival at York, in 790. A strong party, however, was already formed against him, who were desirous of recalling Ethelred from exile, after a banishment of twelve years. Alcuin was a witness of Ethelred's success, and of the revengeful cruelty with which he punished the injuries he had for- merly received, and wherehy he endeavoured to secure the future stability of his government. The country continued for two years in a state of distraction, when the imprisonment and execution of Osred terminated for a while these intestine commotions. These events again involved Alcuin in occupations from which he had hoped to escape at York, and rendered him the more disposed to return to the court of France, where the supreme power being lodged in the hands of an energetic ruler, repressed the aristocracy, instead of becoming their tool. A similar scene of confusion was soon repeated, which so disgusted Alcuin with his own country that he sought in France, and at length obtained in the abbey of Tours, the repose and advantages no longer to be found at York. He 'was, moreover, recalled to the con- tinent by pressing letters from Charlemagne, who needed Alcuin's counsel and learning, not only for the purpose of investigating and suppressing a religious doctrine which had sprung up within his dominions, and threatened a dangerous schism, but also of opposing the pretensions of the Byzantine court, which demanded that the reso- lutions adopted at its instigation by the pseudo-oecume- nical council at Nice, with regard to the worship of images, should be binding upon the churches of the West
F
66 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
as well as of the East. Both points were of too vital importance to the theory, as well as the practice of religion, and affected too nearly the peace of the king- dom, to allow Alcuin to remain indifferent. He displayed in the management of both, the greatest and most praise- worthy zeal ; and happily succeeded in securing the maintenance of the orthodox doctrine, and the public tranquillity. The first point was concerning a new view of the relation of Jesus to God as Father.
1. — Rise and Progress of the Doctrine of the Adoptionists.
No sooner was Christianity secured from external persecution by becoming the prevailing religion of the state, than disputes respecting doctrines and opinions rendered it dangerous to the government by which it had been embraced. No language can express, and no imagination conceive, with adequate distinctness and accuracy, that which was the subject of controversy. Hence the adjustment of one cause of contention origi- nated a new subject of strife. The temporal power which had regulated spiritual affairs during the time of paganism, was no longer in a condition to interpose ; for, with Christianity, an organised ecclesiastical body had forced its way into the political constitution, and arro- gated to itself the sole right of determining points of doctrine. The temporal power, therefore, could not interfere in these controversies without appearing as a party desirous of securing the victory, and a solid foun- dation for its own favourite sentiments, under the pre-
THEOLOGICAL CONTROVERSIES. 67
tence of an anxiety to maintain the public tranquillity. In every contest of that description, it had to encounter the opposition of those who struggled for the triumph of their own opinions, regardless of existing circumstances, and even of the danger of involving in one common ruin the altar and the throne. The only means, therefore, of preserving the tranquillity of the state, was to summon an oecumenical council; but if such an assembly were with much difficulty convened, and if after many fierce debates, it came to a decision, this very decision usually proved the fruitful germ of cruel persecutions, and of conflicts still fiercer and more dangerous. In subsequent times wherein different interests prevailed, and colder spirits received the dogmas of the church with indifference, or regarded them as absurd, these controversies have been considered errors of the understanding, and deplored as the lamentable result of ignorance and superstition. Such a view, however, is too partial and circumscribed to be correct. It is always gratifying to contemplate the mind in a state of activity, under whatever form it may develop itself; and the object to which intellectual power is directed, is of far less importance than the amount of the force which is employed. It is among the noblest benefits conferred by Christianity on mankind, that at a time when political freedom was groaning under the iron yoke of despotism, throughout the whole extent of the Roman empire, she opened new prospects to the mind, inspiring apathy itself with animation, and supplying men with courage and strength to support their convictions in the face of tyranny, or to die in their defence. Freedom and energy of mind forsook politics, and fled within the F 2
68 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
precincts of religion ; and although the contentions con- cerning the Trinity and the nature of Christ have not the same practical utility as the disputes upon political rights and the best form of government, yet they are equally im- portant in the history of the human intellect. Convictions are errors only in the eyes of those who do not participate in them. So long as they serve to stimulate the powers of investigation, they are deserving of respect ; and if in later times they appear absurd or trifling, it is because we forget the fate of all human efforts which, with the change of the objects of interest, cease to be interesting.
The mystical portion of the history of the founder of the Christian religion was a boundless field of contention, and an inexhaustible armoury for the controversialists of the primitive church. The relation of Jesus to his Heavenly Father, and to the third person in the mysteri- ous union of the Trinity, long agitated the Christian world. At length, after many furious debates, and when the passions of mankind had been exhausted in persecution, the decision of the first oecumenical council at Nice pre- vailed, and the divinity of Christ, as well as his identity with the Father and the Holy Spirit, became an established principle of the orthodox church. Arianism, on the ruin of which the orthodox system was founded, was speedily avenged by the startling consequences to be deduced from it. /Out of the controversy upon the Trinity, arose the yet fiercer contest concerning the single, or the double nature in Christ. The orthodox doctrine of the union of the Divine Spirit with a human soul and human body, was unsatisfactory, in proportion to the incomprehensi- bility of the connection, and the unwillingness of mankind
THE PATRIARCH NESTORIUS. 69
to resort to faith in all doubts of the understanding. ) It was impossible to prove the union of the two natures, without new doctrines, new sects, and new disputes. Some, in order to avoid dishonouring the Divine Spirit by any gross admixture with a material substance, supposed Christ to have had a merely apparent, not a real body ; others endeavoured to avoid the admission that God had permitted himself to be born of a woman in the ordinary way of human birth, by regarding Jesus merely as a perfect man who was filled, at his baptism, but not before, with the Logos or Divine Spirit. So little effect had these and similar views in removing previous convictions, that the worship of the Virgin Mary as the mother of God began to be universal. Such a practice, which was no where au- thorised in Scripture, was revolting to the mind of Nesto- rius, patriarch of Constantinople. He vented his indigna- tion in sermons couched in the most violent language ; and was led on from one position to another, till he at length asserted that the two natures of Christ were distinctly separate. He allowed that God and man were united in Christ, but maintained that all that was exalted and sub- lime in him was to be ascribed to the divine, whilst all that was inferior or ordinary must belong to the human nature. The elevated station of the patriarch gave con- siderable weight to his opinion, and his doctrine found some partizans, but a still greater number of opponents, who, after many turbulent synods, finally succeeded in depriving the heretical patriarch of his see, driving him into exile, and surrendering his adherents a prey to per- secution. The council held at Chalcedon in 451, at last established, on the authority of Pope Leo, the doctrine
70 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
received to the present day by both the Catholic and Pro- testant church, — that there existed in Christ two natures, but only one person.
This decision, instead of putting an end to the contro- versy, only gave it a new direction, and theology continued to nourish the flame of spiritual excitement in the Byzan- tine empire, and often kindled it into a frightful confla- gration. The west of Europe enjoyed, in this respect, a much greater degree of tranquillity. The Western monarchs had too little taste for theological inquiries, the clergy, at least the greater part of them, were too ignorant, and the people too much occupied by other interests, to admit of such commotions as those which agitated the East. Since the extinction of Arianism, the Pope had become the champion of Western orthodoxy, the represen- tative of the West at the Eastern councils, and the source of the true and only saving faith. The ignorant and the indolent were well content to acquiesce in this arrange- ment, and to pronounce, without further examination, a sentence of condemnation against all who differed from them. Before the time of Charlemagne especially, the French clergy were better qualified to use temporal weapons against the enemies of the country, than to wield the spiritual sword against the enemies of the church. Since the accession of Charles, society had undergone so great an alteration, that men of ability and intelligence were no longer wanting both for attack and defence in a religious dispute. When, therefore, even in the kingdom of France, people began to entertain views of the doc- trine out of which the Arian, Nestorian, and so many other disturbances had arisen, differing from those
CHARLEMAGNE'S ANXIETY TO PREVENT A SCHISM. 71
already established, the example of former times and the actual situation of the Byzantine empire, where the flames of discord were raging at that very time, served as a warning of the consequences of a schism in religion. Charles' interference, therefore, in a dispute concerning an obscure and abstruse doctrine of religion, is to be re- garded less as a proof of his piety than of his anxiety for the welfare of his subjects. His duty as a sovereign required that he should stifle at its birth a contest, in which excited passions and conflicting interests might easily overslep the limits of a theological controversy, and form the commencement of a violent and protracted struggle, which would shake the church and state to their foundations. The mode of his interference is remark- able ; and his whole behaviour in this affair, affords the honourable testimony, that he paid such regard to the exercise of the reason and the freedom of investigation, as to authorise an impartial examination of truth. Instead of persecuting with fire and sword those who dissented from the established doctrine, he gave them an opportunity either of proving their opinions by argument, or of sub- mitting to a triumphant refutation. This moderation is the more commendable, as the new doctrine was first advanced in a Mahommedan country.
Whilst Spain was under the dominion of the Saracens, the Christian religion was tolerated there, as in all other Mahommedan countries ; but the slight connection of the Spaniards with the rest of the Christian world, the passive- ness of the temporal government with respect to the creed of its subjects, and the scoffs of the infidels which compel- led an examination of many of the dogmas of Christianity,
72 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
concurred in rendering them liable to deviate from the orthodox faith. Hence the defection of Archbishop Elipandus of Toledo. He had probably heard so many doubts respecting the divinity and incarnation of Christ, that his belief began to waver. He was impressed with the idea, that Christ, as man, could not stand in the same relation to God, as Christ, as God ; and that what might justly be attributed to the divine nature of the Redeemer must be denied to his human capactiy. Distrustful of his own powers of comprehension arid elucidation, he was anxious to resort to the counsel and assistance of others, and accordingly applied to Felix, bishop of Urgel, one of the most esteemed prelates in that part of Spain which, since the year 778, had been incorporated with the king- dom of France. Felix had so distinguished himself by his learning and virtues, that Alcuin, at an earlier date, had entered into a correspondence with him.1 The answer of the bishop was such as to confirm his doubts. A contemporary chronicler2 says, " he most imprudently, thoughtlessly, and in opposition to the doctrines of the Catholic church, not only replied that Christ was the adopted son of God, but in some books written to the aforesaid bishop, endeavoured most obstinately to defend the wickedness of his opinion." Elipandus was so con- vinced by his reasoning, that he immediately assented to his proposition. The tenets of the new doctrine repre- sented Christ in a double relationship as Son and God. According to his divine nature, he was a real, as man he was only an adopted son of God ; and his Godhead itself was, in the former case, a true, in the latter, a merely nominal, or titular divinity.3
REFUTATION OF THE OPINIONS OF ELIPANDUS. 73
Elipandus now endeavoured to disseminate his opinions with all the zeal of a new convert, and to persecute those of a different faith with all the fury of bigotry.1 It was natural, that one placed in his exalted station should gain many proselytes, and thereby become more firmly per- suaded of the correctness of his own views ; but the number of his adversaries was by no means inconsider- able. Amongst these, Etherius, bishop of Uxama, or Osma, and the presbyter Beatus, were the most distin- guished. The bishop of Toledo loaded both with such accusations, that they deemed it due to their own honour and the welfare of the church, to expose the errors of the doctrine of the Adoption.2 As touching the doctrine itself, they appealed in their writings to faith.3 The proofs which they adduce from the testimony of the apostles, the miracles of Jesus, the words of the Re- deemer himself, and also from the confessions of the devils, are calculated rather to justify faith, and to expose the errors of their opponents, than to render the subject itself more clear and distinct. They maintained that faith must precede knowledge, and be, in religious matters especially, the preponderating principle, because, in every investigation, we incur the hazard of falling into the snares of destruction.4 To the confession of faith of the Adop- tionists, they opposed the orthodox symbol of faith, and demonstrated that their deviation from it was unauthor- ised by the books of the Old or New Testament. In order to terrify the heretics, they exhibited the splendid array of faithful and triumphant heroes who adorned their ranks. " With us," said they, "is David, that mag- nanimous hero who struck the infidel Goliath in the fore-
74 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
head with a little stone, and with one blow felled him to the earth : with us is Moses, who overwhelmed Pharaoh with the Egyptian host in the Red Sea, whilst he led his own people through on dry land : with us is Joshua who shut up five kings in a cave, after he had defeated Amalek : with us is father Abraham, who, with his three hundred servants, overcame and spoiled five kings : with us is the bravest of mankind, Gideon, who with the as- sistance of his three hundred chosen men, discomfited the Midianites as one man : with us is Samson, who, stronger than a lion and firmer than a rock, overthrew, alone and unarmed, a thousand armed men : with us are the twelve patriarchs, the sixteen prophets, the apostles, the evangelists, with us are the martyrs and ministers of the church : with us is Jesus, son of the Virgin, toge- ther with the whole church which has been ransomed by /ris blood, and extended throughout the world." In conse- quence of the struggle respecting the new doctrines, a more exalted and divine position was assigned to the Man in Christ, whom the Adoptionists regarded as an ordinary man. In this the two prelates were very successful. The pure and immaculate conception, of course, makes a wide distinction between the incarnate God and ordinary men who are conceived and born in sin ; besides, nothing is impossible with God, and the miracle consists in the fact that God remained God even as man. The doctrine of the Adoptionists is repugnant in itself; for the separation between a true and an adopted Son, destroys the Son, as effectually as the assertion that God may be partly God, and partly not God, annihilates the Godhead.1 Moreover, the human body of Christ typically
SYNOD OF NARBOXNE. 75
represents the church, of which Christ is the head. On the other hand, all who secede from the orthodox church, represent the body of the devil who is Antichrist. To prove this position, and thus overturn the doctrine of Elipandus, is the object of the second book of the work quoted above.1
From this refutation, which is written with considerable spirit and animation, though deficient in acute logical reasoning, it is evident that the passions of the parties in Spain had been sufficiently enkindled to burst forth into a flame which might have proved dangerous to the state, had Elipandus possessed the power of attacking his adversaries with other weapons than those of calumny. The Saracenic government, however, paid little regard to the theological disputes of the Christians ; and in the Christian kingdom of Asturias, Etherius and Beatus were careful to suppress the heresy.2 Still, through the medium of Bishop Felix, the contagion spread to the Spanish frontier ; and in consequence of the connection of these provinces with France, it soon extended itself beyond the Pyrenees, and raged in Septimania with such violence as to awaken the attention of Charles. On this account, a provincial synod was held at Narbonne in 788, but separated without even examining, much less coming to a decision upon the new doctrines.3 As they continued to acquire credit ancl celebrity, the danger increased, and the necessity for the interference of the sovereign became imperative. A more timid prince would have interposed the strong arm of power ; but Charles was too just to condemn, unheard, a man renowned for wisdom and morality ; and as he possessed sufficient
76 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
authority to hold the passions of the contending parties in check, he was enabled to show the deference due to learning, without hazarding the repose of the state. He therefore commanded an investigation, and summoned a synod at Ratisbon in 792, before which he cited Bishop Felix to appear, in order to justify himself and his opinions from the reproaches wherewith they had been assailed. Felix obeyed ; but failing, either in learning or courage, to defend his opinions in the presence of the as- sembled bishops, he abjured them as heretical and de- serving the condemnation pronounced upon them by the synod.1 From Ratisbon, he was sent to Rome, accom- panied by Angilbert, in order to renounce his confession of faith in the presence of Pope Hadrian I. Here he again recanted his errors, and declared (confirming the declaration with a solemn oath) that he regarded Jesus Christ, not as the adopted, but as the real and beloved son of God.2 Felix then returned to Urgel ; but here he encountered so many reproaches from his fol- lowers for his fickleness, that he yielded to the urgent entreaties of his friends,3 and, unmindful of his oath, again returned to his former doctrines.
Charles might now have punished him as a relapsed heretic, and have suppressed, by forcible means, errors which had been condemned by their very author ; but it is probable that Felix justified his relapse by fresh argu- ments, so that the king deemed it more advisable to oppose argument by argument. This determination may have been also in some degree influenced by the situation of the Spanish frontier. A violent persecution might easily induce the Adoptionists to throw themselves
ALCUIN OPPOSES THE HERESY OF ELIPANDUS. 77
into the arms of the Saracens ; and to seek under their dominion that toleration which Elipandus enjoyed, but which was denied to them by a Christian king. Charles therefore wrote to Alcuin, inviting him to return, and en- t renting that he would not withhold his assistance in an affair of such moment both to the church and to his king- dom.1 He could not have selected an abler or more zealous champion of orthodoxy than Alcuin, nor one more ready to oppose the innovations of the heretics. He had been educated in the church, all his studies had been directed to theology, and his soul clung to the orthodox doctrines. It may be proper here to exhibit his theological views, and his mode of interpreting the Bible. The best means of accomplishing this, will be to characterise and exhibit some specimens of his exegetical works.
2. — Alcuin s Theological Opinions.
If the Christian religion be not regarded as the summit of devotional feeling, but only as the immediate revela- tion of God, afforded to us by the books of the New and the preparatory writings of the Old Testament, it appears as an isolated historical fact. The mode of conduct which it prescribes, becomes a law for all succeeding ages ; and it is only necessary to oppose that which has been, in order to refute any deviation from it. Whatever the Holy Scriptures, according to their usual interpreta- tion contain, and whatever the distinguished and recog- nised Fathers of the church have taught, is received as truth, and is sufficient to suppress every other doctrine. The struggle is -not for truth as such, but for the mainte-
78 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
nance of an historically authenticated and acknowledged truth. This position, which by a new party-name may be denominated that ol^ supernaturajist (in contradis- tinction to a rationalist) was that assumed by Alcuin in theology. In the Bible, he discerns not only the spirit, but the words of God ; and perceives in the sacred writings of the Jews, the latent indication of a future salvation and mercy, which has been realised in the New Testament. In order to maintain this position, it was necessary to have recourse to mystical interpretations and dialectic subtleties ; both of which peculiarities distinguish the explanatory works of Alcuin. To ordinary expres- sions an importance is attached which renders them extraordinary ; and arguments are substituted for the simple meaning which often surprise us by their ingenuity, or please by their spiritual turn, but which, on closer inspection, are found to be devoid of foundation. /We have a short commentary of Alcuin's, in the form of question and answer, on the first book of Moses or Genesis1, the object of which is to point out the* revela- tions and latent indications of a future salvation con- tained in the simple and sublime tradition of the Hebrews respecting the origin of the world, the state of innocence and simplicity in which our first parents lived, their elevation from this condition to that of self- con- sciousness and intellectual perception, and the historical description of the patriarchs. -The account of the creation of the woman, for example, gives occasion to the following questions : — " Why was the woman made of the rib of the man whilst he was sleeping, instead of being formed like him out of the dust ?" The answer to which
ALCUIN'S EXEGETICAL WORKS. 79
is, " Evidently on account of the mystery, to indicate that Christ, out of whose side the source of our salvation flowed, for the sake of the church fell asleep on the cross."
Q. "What reference to Christ has the following passage, < Therefore shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave unto his wife ?'
A. " The Redeemer left his father, because he appeared to men not in the form in which he resembles the Father : he left his mother, inasmuch as he renounced the synagogue of the Jews, of whom he was born after the flesh, in order to cleave unto the church that was to be gathered together from among the heathen."
Even the most secret thoughts and designs of the Almighty are made the subjects of interrogation ; and Alcuin is so little at a loss for an answer, that one might suppose he had sat in council at the creation of the world.
Amongst his explanatory works, we also find a Short Explanation of the Ten Commandments.1 He divides these, according to their respective characters, into two parts. The first three refer to the Holy Trinity, but the rest to the interests of man. The first command- ment exhibits God the Father as the only object of our worship ; the second forbids us to regard the Son of God as a created being, because every created thing is perish- able; the third relates to the Holy Spirit, through whom we are promised eternal rest.
TheJPsalter was, at that time, one of the most im- portant and favourite books of the old Testament. The fine selection it offers of sacred songs, was so well suited to
80 X^HE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
the service of the church, as to render it indispensable in divine worship. Such a strain of feeling pervades the psalms in which David breathed out Kis. noble spirit ; his repentance for former sins, his mourning "ewer afflictions and perplexing events, his rejoicing at the |^fp vouch- safed by the Lord, and his praise of God's greatness and glory, are expressed with such truth of nature and such poetical beauty, as cannot fail to touch every human heart. In addition to this interest, which Alcuin experienced in common with the rest of mankind, he felt the peculiar satisfaction of discerning, in these sacred songs, the latent mysteries of the Christian religion, and saw everywhere the Redeemer and his redeemed church glorified. In his exposition of some of the psalms of David, he either amplifies the idea, subjoins to the words of the psalmist some moral precepts, pious meditations, and beautiful thoughts, or discovers and explains an allegorical mean- ing1. The latter is especially remarkable in his exposi- tion of the Song of Degrees, or the fifteen psalms of David in full choir2. These, according to his view, con- stitute the steps by which we mount upwards to the joys of the Lord. Humility is placed lowest as the first step ; this leads us to the second step, Faith, and thence to the third, Desire after the heavenly Jerusalem. The fourth step, Confidence, and the fifth, Patience, must be sur- mounted before we can attain on the sixth the firmness of the eternal Jerusalem, and those who are striving after it. Here, repose from the exertions that have been made, and the delightful view of the lovely prospect is granted. On this account, the psalmist celebrates in the succeeding psalm (cxxvi.) the praise of our Redeemer, and our
COMMENTARY ON ECCLESIASTES. 81
deliverance from the bondage of the Devil, and the chains of sin. In like manner, each of the following psalms forms one of the higher steps which conduct to the habitation of the Lord. On reaching the topmost, which is placed immediateljsjlbefore the entrance (Ps. cxxxiv.) we are in- structed in the duty which those have to perform who are admitted; and what could this duty be, but to praise the Lord with heart and voice ?
In the commentary on the Song of Solomon1, Alcuin not only endeavours to prove that all the expressions in the Old Testament have a reference to the future re- demption of man by Jesus Christ, but also attempts to explain the mystical signification of the numbers that occur therein. As specimens of the most remarkable passages have already been given, and as opportunities will yet occur of exemplifying his peculiar style, we will merely observe, with regard to this treatise, that neither the amorous expressions, nor unequivocal admiration of female beauty, which so strikingly characterise this portion of Scripture, prevent the commentator from discerning in them a representation of the Christian church under the figure of the bride of Christ.
Alcuin wrote a commentary on the Book of Eccle- siastes for the benefit of his pupils, Onias, Candidus and Nathanael, after, as he expresses it, "they had flown from the nest of his paternal care into the open firmament of worldly occupation;" that is, after they had repaired to the court of Charlemagne, where they continued to be the objects of his unceasing anxiety, and of the hope that they would not disgrace their teacher. No book appeared to him better calculated to arm them against the allure-
G
82 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
ments of worldly grandeur, by exhibiting its nothingness and vanity, and to turn their hearts to that which is eternal and unfading, than the book of Ecclesiastes. The greatest part of the commentary is copied from St. Jerome; a fact which Alcuin by no means desired to conceal, nor indeed had he any cause to be ashamed of it, for, as I have already had occasion to remark, the scarcity of books in those times, rendered an accurate, copy of a useful work as valuable as a correct edition of an ancient author is at the present day.1
Alcuin concludes his exposition of the Old Testament with an interpretation of the names of all the ancestors of Cbrist, according to their literal, allegorical and moral sense. For example : Abraham signifies literally the father of many nations. The name, taken in an allegorical sense, may be understood to signify the father of all be- lievers, to whom we must all cry, Abba, Father ! The moral lesson to be deduced from this name is, that we should be the fathers of many virtues, and possess by inheritance, an accumulation of good works.2
All the peculiarities which are observable in the disser- tations upon the Old Testament from which we have quoted, are combined in the exposition of the Gospel of John3. A work which affords more than any other, an opportunity for speculation, allegory, and the mystical interpretation of numbers. Whenever an established principle of religious doctrine is in danger of being un- settled, or violated by the explanation, the exact literal sense is contended for with dialectic acuteness. In other places, where this is not the case, a free and arbitrary construction overleaps all the limits of fair interpretation ;
EXPOSITION OF ST. JOHN'S GOSPEL. 83
in order to exalt the most ordinary into extraordinary circumstances, and to transfer the scenes of simple and natural life into the regions of the sublime and heavenly. The extraction of a few passages will enable the reader to judge of the manner, and thereby of the spirit of the times.
Gospel John i. 1. — " In the beginning was the Wordy and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." This may be understood in two ways. The Father is the beginning, therefore the expression is synonymous with, in the Father. In the Father is the Son, whom the Evangelist calls the Word. We must not, however, be led into error from the answer of the Son of God, who, in the course of this Gospel, replies to the question of the Jews, " Who God himself was ?" — " The beginning, 1, who now talk with you. If then the Son is the beginning who has a father, how much more must God the Father be the beginning, since he has a Son of whom he is the father? For the Son is the the Father's Son, and the Father truly the Son's Father, and God the Father ; but not God of God whilst the Son is God of God. The Father is light, but not of light ; the Son is also light, but light of light. So the Father is the beginning, but not of the beginning ; the Son is the beginning, but a beginning of a beginning. That which was in the beginning no more terminates with time, than it commences with the beginning. The Son, therefore, as the beginning, ceases not with time, nor was he preceded by the beginning, whether we refer the passage, in the Beginning was the Word, to the beginning of creation or of time. Every created thing G 2
84 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
which had a beginning, was then the word of God, b} which all things are made. The Evangelist, therefore, repeats four times was, was, was, was, in order to express that the co -eternal Word of God the Father preceded all time. The other Evangelists relate that the Son of God appeared suddenly among men ; but John declares that he had been with God from eternity, for he says, " and the Word was with God." The others call him " very man ;" but John assures us that " he was very God," in the expression " and the Word was God." The others say, that " he lived among men for a time as man ;" John, on the contrary, represents him as God with God from the beginning ; for he says, " the same in the beginning was with God"
The latent meaning which Alcuin discovered in this passage, and explained according to the received doc- trine, he transfers by means of allegorical interpretations to passages wherein it does not exist. He considers every number to involve some mysterious meaning, and the name of every place to imply something beyond the mere appellation. When the Evangelist relates : " And the third day there was a marriage in Cana ;" — both the number and the place appear to the commentator to be important and mysterious. For example, the third day, indicates the third grand epoch in the development of the human race, on attaining which, they are worthy to receive the divine doctrine of Christ. The time when men lived merely in imitation of the example of the patriarchs, constituted the first epoch ; that of the written law under the prophets, the second ; and the third and last, the period when the Redeemer himself appeared in the
CONVERSION OF THE WATER INTO WINE. 85
flesh. " In Cana of Galilee," signifies that the marriage was celebrated in the zeal of perfected conversion,1 (in zelo transmigrationis perpetrate,) emblematically representing that those are chiefly deserving of the favour of Christ, who, in the zeal of pious enthusiasm and devotion, have by good works passed from vice to virtue, and from earthly to heavenly things. The conversion of water into wine indicates the purifying of the ancient doctrine, which had been defaced and corrupted by the Pharisees. Here, again, Alcuin's strong bias towards allegory, leads him to seize and expatiate upon the most trivial circumstances- And there were set six water-pots of stone, after the manner of the purifying of the Jews, containing two or three firkins a piece. The six vessels which held the water, are the pious hearts of the saints, whose perfect life and faith, during the six ages that preceded the an- nouncement of the Gospel, remain as a pattern to the human race. The vessels are, with propriety, of stone, because the hearts of the just are strong, having been strengthened by faith in, and love for, .that stone which Daniel saw, " torn without hands from a mountain, and which became so great a mountain, that it filled the whole earth" (Dan. ii. 34-35). Zachariah, speaking of it, says : — " Upon one stone, are seven eyes " (Zach. iii. 9.) ; that is, in Christ dwells the universality of spiritual knowledge. The apostle Peter alludes to it in the following words, " to whom ye are come as to a
living stone ye also as lively stones are built up a
spiritual house." (1. Pet. ii. 4-5.) With propriety, also, were the water-pots set after the manner of the purifying of the Jews ; for to the Jewish nation only was the Law given by Moses ; but Christ has imparted the grace and
86 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
truth of the Gospel both to heathens and to Jews. We are told that each contained " two or three firkins a piece," to intimate that the writers of the Holy Scriptures, sometimes speak only of the Father and the Son, for instance ; " Thou hast made all things in wisdom :" for the strength and wisdom of God is Christ. Sometimes also they mention the Holy Spirit, as in that passage of the Psalms ; " By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath of his mouth" The Word, the Lord, and the Spirit, constitute the triune Jehovah. Quite as great a difference as between water and wine, was there between the sense in which the Holy Scriptures were understood, previously to the coming of the Redeemer, and that in which he himself expounded them to the Apostles, and their disciples bequeathed as a perpetual rule. The Lord, who at the commencement of creation made all things out of nothing, could indeed have filled empty water-pots with wine, but he chose rather to make wine of water, in order, emblematically, to teach that he came into the world, not to relax or abolish, but rather to fulfil the law and the testimony of the Prophets.
It would be unjust to desire that our knowledge, and the degree of moral and political civilisation which we have attained, should be regarded as the sole criterion of judgment, instead of using it as a mere standard of com- parison between earlier times and the present. The contemptuous shrug, and the scornful smile of compassion with which we are apt to regard the efforts of past ages, may one day be bestowed upon many of our pursuits, should posterity feel equally disposed with ourselves to
INTEREST EXCITED BY ALCUIN'S WORKS. 87
overlook that which is really good, and to see that only which is defective, We should look back upon the former state of intellectual culture, upon the steps whereby society has risen to its present grade of refinement, with the same respect as that with which a man of mature age regards the feelings and ideas of his youth, There seems, therefore, little cause to fear that the portions of Alcuin's works which we have noticed, will tend to diminish the merit of his laudable exertions in the opinion of the reader, especially, as notwithstanding the weakness of argument, so much talent is displayed, that even in those who had no concern in ecclesiastical affairs great interest was excited. Omitting the commentary on St. Paul's Epistles to Titus, Philemon and the Hebrews', which are composed in a manner precisely similar to those already quoted, we will adduce in proof of our observation, a letter which also exhibits the participation of Charle- magne and his courtiers in these theological investigations. An officer in the army of Charlemagne, who probably felt particularly interested in the account of the zeal with which Peter drew his sword in the defence of Jesus, and smote off the ear of Malchus, was unable to reconcile the passage in which Jesus bids his disciples buy a sword, (Luke xxii. 36.) with another passage in the Gospel of St. Matthew, wherein he says, " all they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword." (St. Mat. xxvi. 52.) He, therefore, applied to the king for an explanation. Charles was so thoroughly ac- quainted with Alcuin's manner, that he would not have hesitated to explain the sword as meaning, allegorically, the word of God ; had it not involved the contradiction, that all they that take God's word must perish by God's
•
88 *k/ jfl/^THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
word. In this dilemma he had recourse to his oracle in
spiritual matters, Alcuin, and laid before him his own
and the soldiers' scruples1. Alcuin solved the question,
by directing the king's attention to the different circum-
L stances under which the same word is used in these two
\ different passages. By the sword mentioned by Matthew,
/is to be understood revenge for injuries sustained, because
; whoever practises this crime brings ruin upon himself.
j The sword spoken of by Luke signifies, throughout, the
\ word of God, which we must purchase with all our pos-
• sessions; as it alone can enable us to resist the devices
of the old serpent.
The king also desired to know what Jesus meant to imply by the words, " He that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip : and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one ;" and why, when the disciples replied that they had two swords, he said, " It is enough ?" Alcuin interpreted the purchase of the sword to signify the renunciation of the world, he supposing that by the purse is to be understood private, by the scrip public property ; and the word garment denotes sensual pleasures, which must be resigned before we can become soldiers of Christ worthy of wearing that sword. The two swords indicate body and soul ; because, if we do the will of God with these, it is enough. Alcuin requested the king to communicate this explanation to the warrior ; and then, for the benefit of the king, proceeded to remove a difficulty in which he had entangled himself while un- ravelling this knotty point. The question arose, Why does the sword, if it is the word of God, cut off the ear of his adversaries ; as it is through the ear that the word
ALCUIN'S LIBERAL VIEWS. 89
of God penetrates to the secret recesses of the heart ? " What," exclaims Alcuin, " what does it impoit but that the ear of unbelief is cut off to be healed again by the application of divine mercy, and that, by putting away the old man, we maybe transformed into new creatures. " On this account also the servant was named Malchus, for Malchus means, by interpretation, king, or one \\ho is to be king (regnaturus) ; because we, in our old state, were the slaves of sin, but in the new state, when healed by God's mercy, shall be kings and rulers in common with Christ. In order to impress upon us that every one who confesses Christ must never cease to forgive his enemies, he himself omitted not to heal his persecutors, even during the period of his agony."
It had already been attempted to establish the principle that the Scriptures should remain closed to the laity, in order that they might produce more magical effects in the hands of the clergy. Alcuin was far from entering into the narrow policy of desiring to base the power of the clergy on the ignorance of the people ; but rejoiced that the laity had at length begun to occupy themselves with the Gospel, and wished that the king possessed many such soldiers as him, to whose questions he had replied1. Alcuin's intimate acquaintance with the sacred scrip- tnres, and the works of the Fathers, his anxious care for the purity of doctrine, and his skill in maintaining it with the light weapons of dialectic art, or the weighty arms of learning, rendered him the fittest champion of the orthodox church against the innovations of the heretics. His aim was neither to establish any new, nor to destroy any ancient principle, but simply to uphold
90 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
and confirm those which already existed, and which he recognised as true. His presence was the more desira- ble to Charles, as besides the controversy respecting the adoption, he was engaged in a theological dispute con- nected with his diplomatic relation to the Byzantine empire. This was no other than the contention regarding image-worship, which was at length decided, after having for many years excited the most violent commotions in the Christian world in the East ; aud after having caused the Pope to separate himself from the Byzantine empire, thereby paving the way for the restoration of the western Roman empire. The decision, however, was such as accorded neither with the religious sentiments of the western part of Christendom, nor with the political pre- tensions of Charlemagne. A short review of the whole subject may, therefore, be proper, before we proceed to consider this decision, which, as well as the determination upon the doctrine of the Adoptionists, resulted from the synod held at Frankfort-on-the-Maine ; we shall thus be better enabled to judge of Alcuin's participation therein.
3. — History of the Controversy respecting Image -worship.
The primitive Christians derived their aversion to image-worship from the Jews ; and the more they en- deavoured to mark the distinction between the new reli- gion and pagan idolatry, the more confirmed became their abhorrence. The adoration of Gods, the work of men's hands, was so strictly prohibited by the Mosaic law, and so totally irreconcileable with the doctrine of Christianity, which teaches that God must be worshipped only in spirit and in truth, that the introduction of a
INTRODUCTION OF IMAGES. 91
custom derided and despised by the Christians, into the Christian church, seemed of all evils that which was least to be feared. Yet, no sooner had the religion of Jesus become predominant, than the great mass of mankind, who had been led to embrace Christianity, less from con- viction than from expediency, transferred some of the customs and sentiments of paganism to the religion of the state. These abuses obtained a firm footing with the greater facility, since the chasm which had divided paganism from Christianity, was filled up by the over- throw of the former, and as the latter had no longer to encounter opposition, the vigilance of jealousy was re- laxed. The feelings of the people, which require to be excited by some material impression, were readily in- dulged with a visible object of reverence ; and it was permitted to honour the cross as the symbol of our re- demption, or relics of the saints as cherished memorials of the excellence of distinguished and pious men. There was, however, but one small, almost imperceptible, step from the relics to the images of saints; and from regarding them with respect, to worshipping them with devotion. If God, as such, could not be depicted, still his incarna- tion afforded an opportunity both to the pencil and the chisel, of presenting him in a visible form to the worship of the faithful. His divine mother also became a subject for art and adoration. Miracles were related of the images, which magnified their importance arid increased their number; and in a short time, all the churches and chapels in the Byzantine empire were filled with pictures of Jesus, of Mary, of saints, and of angels. Since the sixth century, believers had again bowed the knee to
92 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
images, and probably even worshipped, in the ancient deities of Olympus, the heroes of the Old Testament, or the saints of the Christian church. A mere alteration of the names of many statues of pagan times, was all that was requisite to adapt them to the system of the new church. How easy was it to convert the god of poetry and music into the royal psalmist of the Old Testament, or to give to the lion-taming Hercules a scriptural allusion under the name of Samson ; and by a similar alteration to secure safety and respect to the images of other Gods ! Art is more indebted than religion to this evil thus introduced into the church. To it she owes the preservation of the classical designs of antiquity ; and if no new works were produced, still the practice was maintained, which would have entirely ceased, had the same abhorrence of the arts of painting and sculpture prevailed in the Christian, as in the Mahommedan world. Religion, on the contrary, felt that she was acting in opposition to her precepts, and was placed in an element, which to her, was not only foreign, but adverse. It was only necessary, once boldly to avouch, and to prove this fact, in order to create a formidable party. The lower order of the people were too much attached to images, easily to suffer themselves to be deprived of them : the monks who derived a consi- derable revenue from the preparation and sale of these objects of adoration, were too much interested in the maintenance of that species of worship, not to offer the most violent opposition to every attempt at its abolition. The ignorant fanaticism of the people inflamed by the selfishness and superstition of the monks rushed to the protection of the images, when the Byzantine emperor
LEO THE ISAURIAN. 93
Leo, the Isaurian. urged their removal. Political interests mingled in the contest, and gave it an extension and an importance which few theological controversies have at- tained.
The Isaurian Leo the III. was indebted to his military talents for his elevation to the throne of Byzantium, already tottering from internal convulsions, and assailed by external foes. He merited, however, his good fortune by the vigour with which he defended the state from the attacks of the Arabs, and protected its internal tran- quillity from the plots of traitors. With his reign, there- fore, a period of prosperity might have commenced to the Byzantine empire, had not his repugnance to images in- volved him in a quarrel with his subjects, in which he and his successors impaired the strength without in- creasing the glory of the state. His adversaries have endeavoured to trace this repugnance from the most im- pure source ; but it probably sprang from his intercourse with the Arabs, and his efforts to convert the Mahom- medans and Jews in his dominions. Their abhorrence of the image- worship of the Christians was the great stumbling block to their conversion, nor could force compel, nor persuasion induce them to exchange their worship of the one true God for Christian idolatry. The determination of the emperor to remove this obstacle by reforming the service of the church, became the more confirmed, in proportion as he became convinced, by a comparison of the present state of Christian worship with that of the primitive church, and with the precepts of the Old and New Testament, of the justice of the reproaches cast upon Christianity. This comparison,
94 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
also rendered it the more easy for those ecclesiastics who were favourable to his views to prove, by philosophical and historical reasons, the sinfulness of image-worship, and the right possessed by the sovereign of checking by his imperial authority a dangerous abuse. The difficulties, however, attending the measure, restrained the emperor from any rash or violent proceeding. He first, though unsuccessfully, endeavoured to draw over to his interests the theological academy at Constantinople, a learned in- stitution connected with the public library. The members, consisting partly of monks, of course opposed a system which would deprive the monastic order of a lucrative branch of their profession, and destroy their chief influence with the people. Leo retired from the struggle for the moment, but only to wait for a more favourable period, which, appearing to have arrived in the year 726, he assembled a Silentium or secret council of clerical and lay officers, and required them to declare the worship of images to be unlawful, and dangerous to the salvation of the soul. In pursuance of this sentence, all the images in the churches were removed from the altars and lower parts of the building, and placed at such an elevation as to be inaccessible to the devout touch of the faithful. These half measures, however, only rendered the emperor odious without attaining their object ; and two years later, he found himself compelled to command, in a second edict, what he had merely advised in the first, viz. that all images of angels, saints, and martyrs, should be entirely removed from the churches. The refusal of the patri- arch Germanus to subscribe this decree, delayed its execution till the year 730, when he resigned ; and
REBELLION OF THE PEOPLE. 95
Anastasius, an ecclesiastic who was more favourable to the system of the emperor, took possession of the pa- triarchal see. Resistance now commenced on the part of the monks, and the people whom they had instigated to rebellion. Their first attack was made upon a statue of Christ, which was placed over the gate of the palace Chalke. The captain of the body-guard mounted a ladder in open day, and endeavoured with an axe to hew down the image which was in high reputation, on account of its wonder-working power. The concourse of people attracted by this outrage first used entreaties, but finding these ineffectual, they had recourse to violence. The ladder was overthrown, and the captain and his companions slain. Once freed from restraint, the pas- sions of the people hurried them on to the commission of still greater excesses ; they attacked the palace of the patriarch, and yielded only to the military force which the emperor despatched to restore tranquillity. The attachment of the troops enabled the emperor to enforce obedience to his commands ; but he did it at the peril of his throne, and with the loss of a province of his empire. The defenders of the images fled with the objects of their veneration to the islands of the Archipelago. There, their fanatic zeal and hopes of assistance from heaven induced them to collect a fleet, with which they boldly appeared before Constantinople, for the purpose of hurl- ing the enemy of Christ from his throne. But as the expected miraculous assistance was not vouchsafed, they were easily defeated and punished. Italy, however, lay at a greater distance, and possessed in Pope Gregory II. a stronghold, to which the enemies of the Iconoclasts
96 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
could flee. The pope renounced all connection with the Byzantine empire; and, to protect himself against the Greeks and Lombards, entered into that alliance with the French, which was afterwards productive of such important consequences. His exhortations and example, together with the writings of John of Damascus, kept alive the spirit of contention in Byzantium itself. An earth- quake, which in 741, converted many of the most mag- nificent cities of Asia and part of Constantinople into heaps of ruins, afforded the monks an opportunity of representing this calamity as the effect of the wrath of God at the impious attacks upon the images, and of exasperating the minds of the people against the em- peror, who had rendered himself still more obnoxious, by the imposition of taxes, for the purpose of rebuilding the cities which had been overthrown. Such was the situa- tion of affairs at the time of Leo's death, which took place in 741. He bequeathed to his son, Constantine V., who had already been associated with him in the govern- ment, the empire, and the task of executing the measures which he had begun1. The Byzantine his- torians describe the emperor Constantine as an incarnate devil, they do not allow him one good quality ; and yet, what they themselves relate of his actions, contradicts their sentence, and is indeed as convincing a proof of the consummate talent of Constantine, as of the falsehood of the calumnies propagated by his enemies. The severity and cruelty which he exercised towards a faction which was labouring for his overthrow, and either defied his authority by open rebellion, or sought to undermine it by secret intrigues, instead, of being matters of reproach to the emperor, were, in fact, the mournful consequences
REVOLT OF ARTABASDUS. 97
of the necessity in which he was placed, either of giving up his convictions, or of establishing them on the ruin of his adversaries. The implacable hatred of the monks had manifested itself at the beginning of his reign, in a way which put it out of his power to adopt milder mea- sures. The advocates for the use of images had formed themselves into a political party, and cast their eyes on Artabasdus, brother-in-law to the new emperor, who secretly favoured image-worship, or at least professed to do so in order to gain popularity, and thereby the throne. The suspicions of Constantine were indeed awakened, but he durst not make any attempt against his brother- in-law in Constantinople, and, therefore, under pretence of needing his advice, ordered him to join him in an ex- pedition against the Arabs, which he undertook imme- diately after his coronation. The guilty conscience of Artabasdus divined the motive of this command, and urged him to anticipate the emperor. He appeared at the head of an army, and had almost succeeded in capturing the surprised Constantine. This step rendered the breach decisive, and whilst Constantine was assembling a force in his native country, Tsauria, for the purpose of repossessing himself of the throne, Artabasdus was crowned emperor at Constantinople, and immediately restored the worship of images. The patriarch Anastasius changed his sentiments, and under Artabasdus defended the images with as much vehemence as he had opposed them under Leo and Constantine. The civil war which was now breaking out was so intimately connected with the dispute regarding images, that they must stand or fall according as the one or the other party should prove
98 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN,
victorious. On the side of Artabasdus was the advantage of a greatly superior force, on that of Constantine energy of mind and military talents, which compensated for the deficiency in the number of his troops. The unskil- fulness of his adversaries afforded him an opportunity of attacking them singly : he defeated Artabasdus him- self at Sardio, and his son Nicetas at Ancyra. The same month, September 743, he appeared before the walls of Constantinople; but, as his adherents within the walls durst not hazard any attempt to deliver it into his hands, he was compelled to besiege it Artabasdus had thrown himself into the capital, and defended it with the greatest obstinacy, hoping to be relieved by Nicetas, who was endeavouring to form an army in Asia from the wreck of his party. In October, Nicetas approached with an armed force, but was driven back to Nicomedia by Constantine, and there not only defeated in a general engagement, but himself taken prisoner. The perse- verance with which Artabasdus, notwithstanding this disaster, continued the defence of Constantinople only delayed his inevitable fate. Constantine took the city by storm on the second of November, and his enemy, who had vainly attempted to escape, not long after falling into his hands, he, as well as his son, was punished by the loss of sight.
Constantine, being once more in possession of the throne, endeavoured to secure it by the total destruction of the opposite party. Search was made for those who had adhered to his enemy, and all were punished either with death or mutilation. The contemptible character cf the patriarch Anastasius, which rendered him a useful
DECREES AGAINST IMAGES RENEWED. 99
instrument in the hands of the emperor, saved him from receiving any other chastisement than that of insult ; and he retained the highest ecclesiastical dignity in the em- pire. The more reason the emperor had to dread a political faction in the defenders of images, the more imperative it became upon him to maintain and propagate his own opinions. The abolition, therefore, of image- worship was not merely a matter of religious discipline, but a necessary measure for the security of his person and dynasty. The danger from which he had escaped had, however, taught him sufficient prudence to delay the execution of his design until he had restored tran- quillity to the distracted empire, and associated his son with him in the government. In the year 753, he ventured to hold several Silentia, in which the decrees against image-worship were renewed and rendered still more severe. Preparatory to their publication throughout the empire, he introduced them in those provinces, the governors of which were devoted to his views. The simplest means would have been to have it abolished by a resolution of a general council ; but as neither Leo nor Constantine could calculate upon the majority of the bishops being favourable to their system, this method had hitherto been unattempted. However ready an individual ecclesiastic may be, when opposed singly to the temporal power, to submit to its decisions, he assumes a very different position when the support of a numerous body invested with the right of examining and deter- mining, raises him above the influence of fear. The spirit of opposition, which in individuals is dumb from conscious weakness, then displays itself openly and H 2
100 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
vigorously. This impediment, so justly to be feared, seemed, however, to be removed by the death of Anas- tasius, which left the patriarchal see vacant. The hope of obtaining the first ecclesiastical dignity in the kingdom was a bait at which Constantine felt certain the bishops would catch, and by which they would suffer themsehes to be taken. As it was easy to foresee that the emperor would be guided in his choice of a patriarch, by the degree of zeal displayed in his cause, he might reasonably look for support rather than opposition from the bishops, among whom there were few who did not aspire to the pa- triarchate. Relying on this circumstance, Constantine summoned a council at Constantinople, in the year 754, which so well answered his expectations, that the assembly, consisting of three hundred and thirty-eight bishops, acceded to his wishes, and adopted them as a law of the church. Image-worship was rejected as an invention of the devil to allure mankind to a new species of idolatry, and the emperor represented as an Apostle, inspired by God himself to frustrate this device of Satan. In con- clusion, a curse was pronounced upon all the worshippers of images, especially upon the former patriarch Germanus, and the monk John of Damascus1 .
The emperor had now succeeded in obtaining, in a a canonical manner, the right of suppressing image- worship ; and, accordingly, commanded that all images should be removed from the churches and sacred edifices, but with as little violence as possible ; wishing merely to deprive them of their sanctity in the eyes of the people, and the adoration paid to them, without denying thei merit and utility as works of art. But it was no eas;
:
CONSTANTiXE' A^D'THE POPE. 101
task to put the decision of the council into execution. First, as regarded the pope, he was placed at so great a distance, and was so secure under the protection of the French, that he would not fail both to persevere in his opposition to the Iconoclasts, and, probably, widen the breach with the Byzantine court to an irreparable extent. Any attempt to reduce him to obedience by force would have been as expensive as ineffectual ; no other course, therefore, remained to the emperor but that of endea- vouring to withdraw from him the protection of France, and thus compel him to resume the relation in which he formerly stood to the empire, if he would avoid becoming the prey of the Lombards. For the accomplishment 01 this purpose, Constantine entered into negotiations with the French king, Pepin, whom he sought to attach still more firmly to his interests by proposing a matrimonial alliance between his son Leo and the princess Gisla, the sister of Charlemagne, who has already been introduced to the reader as the diligent pupil of Alcuin. The pope saw and warded off the threatening danger ; he frustrated the union, in order to render his own connection with the French monarch still firmer; and effected his project with a facility proportioned to its tendency to promote their common interest. The controversy upon images, therefore, severed one of its fairest provinces from the Byzantine empire, placed the pope in an independent position, and laid the foundation of a princely power established in his own territories, which amply indem- nified him for the loss of the revenues he had derived from Sicily, and also furnished the French king with an opportunity of obtaining a firm footing beyond the Alps.
102 THE LIFE OF 'ALCUIN.
It was not, however, in the West only that the spirit of opposition continued to rage ; it still remained unsub- dued in the Eastern provinces, and even in the capital itself, notwithstanding the decision of the council of Constantinople. The fanaticism of the monks considered no means as unlawful in the defence of a sacred cause, and feared no punishment which might obtain for them the crown of martyrdom. Their pious zeal irritated and wearied the patience of the emperor ; and from 761, scarcely a year elapsed wherein we do not find recorded some act of violence against the images, and of cruelty towards their worshippers. But as the persecution of individuals only increased the obstinacy and fury of the rest, the emperor was compelled to subdue resistance by force. In pursuance of this design, all the bishops were deposed who refused to subscribe to the decrees of the council. In the year 768, the monasteries at Constantinople were dissolved, and the buildings either demolished or con- verted into barracks. The monks were compelled either to marry, or to evade the severity of the emperor by a voluntary banishment. These measures were also ex- tended to the refractory provincial monasteries, and carried into execution by military force1, for the army was devoted to their victorious sovereign, and attached to his principles. There can be no question that a commission entrusted to such rough hands was often executed with as little regard for the preservation of literature and arts, as for right and justice ; but the impossibility of suppressing an ex- asperated faction, and at the same time keeping within the bounds of moderation and equity, and the necessity of exercising severity towards all who refused to comply
LEO THE FOURTH. 103
with the decree for the abolition of images, which had been regularly issued by a convocation of the elergy, will sufficiently excuse the emperor in the opinion of every impartial mind. Constantine was indebted to the energy of his character, for the satisfaction of seeing the public worship of images abolished before his death, and of receiving a guarantee for the future, in the oath taken by his subjects, that they would never again pay them adoration. This oath would have been performed, had his successor prosecuted his measures with the same energy and firmness with which he had adopted them 5 but Leo IV. who ascended the throne in 775, was of too feeble a character to execute such a task. Under the influence of his wife Irene, who concealed her veneration for images and monks, that she might be enabled to promote their interests the more effectually, he annulled some of the statutes of his father, and miti. gated others. The apparent state of public tranquillity led him into making concessions, which contained the germ of future disturbances ; and by granting the monks permission to return and hold high offices in the church, he again introduced into the state practices subversive of the existing order of things. When he discovered the images of saints secretly adored by his wife, it was too late to repair his error ; for, before he had arrived at any determination on the subject, he died, September the 8th, 780. Irene, as guardian to her son, Constantine VI., who was yet a minor, was now intrusted with the reins of government ; and nothing but the fear of resistance, especially on the part of the army, withheld her from immediately legalising the introduction of images, She,
104 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
however, commenced preparations for this measure by putting a stop to all persecutions, and placing no im- pediment in the way of erecting images in various places. At the same time she made advances to the Roman pontiff, and entered into so close an alliance with Charle- magne, that she betrothed her son, Constantine VI., to the French princess, Rotrudis. But, notwithstanding that she openly displayed her predilection for images, it was long before she ventured upon taking any decided step. More than half a century had elapsed since the commencement of the controversy, so that the greater part of the existing generation had been educated in the prevailing opinions, and most of the bishoprics were occupied by men who owed their elevation to their hostility to image-worship. The empress, therefore, durst not attempt so important a change as the restora- tion of image -worship without some plausible pretext. This was immediately afforded by the patriarch Paul, who, as had been previously concerted, publicly resigned his dignity. Paul had been appointed to the patriarchal throne by Leo IV., after he had, in presence of the emperor, solemnly declared himself inimical to images. In the year 784, he suddenly abandoned the archiepis- copal palace, and betook himself to a cloister, where he professed to all those who visited him, either at the instigation of the empress, or from motives of curiosity, that remorse had driven him from a see, the acceptance of which had excluded him from communion with other churches, and deprived him of the favour of the saints . that he could only hope to obtain pardon for his sin by deep repentance ; and that there was no other means of
COUNCIL OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 105
averting the curse which was hanging over the empire, than that of annulling the impious statutes against the images. A way was thus opened for the accomplishment of the project which the empress had most at heart : the execution of which devolved upon the successor of Paul, whose death occurred in that same year. Irene took care to render the interests of the church dependent upon her will, by raising her private secretary, Tarasius, to the patriarchate. The pliant courtier testified equal readiness to comply with her wishes, by the condition which he annexed to his acceptance of the highest ecclesiastical dignity, namely, that a general council should examine anew the lawfulness or unlawfulness of image-worship. In consequence of a flattering letter of invitation, Pope Hadrian I. sent two nuncios to Constantinople, and, by adopting the artifice of admitting some ecclesiastics as ambassadors from the patriarchs of Antioch and Alex- andria, the synod assumed the authority of an ecumenical council. Although the adverse party was unable to pre- vent the summoning of this synod, they appeared in great numbers to express their disapprobation, and were en- couraged in their opposition to the court by the veteran troops of Constantine, who declared themselves ready to protect them, and to defend the principles of their revered general. When, therefore, the first session was opened in the Church of the Twelve Apostles, August 7th, 786, the soldiers, who had taken possession of the church on the preceding day, rose and excited such a tumult that the patriarch was unable to obtain a hearing, and the empress herself was compelled to request the assembly to yield to a force which it was useless to resist, and to
106 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
break up the meeting. After the departure of the court party, the Iconoclasts remained in the church under the protection of the soldiers, and confirmed all the decrees against images.
The failure of this first attempt on the part of the empress, rendered her aware of the obstacles to be sur- mounted before she could make a second and more successful effort. Regardless of the interest of the state, she artfully contrived to disarm and disband the veterans ; and, after having surrounded herself with a guard of newly levied troops, she summoned, in September 787, a council at Nice, not daring to trust the citizens of Constantinople. On this occasion she had the prudence to invite only such bishops as were favourable to her plans, or who at least showed themselves willing to change their sentiments. A detachment of the new legions was despatched thither to be ready in case of need. Under these circumstances, there could be no doubt as to the result of the deliberations of the assembly. The reso- lutions of the council of Constantinople were refuted and condemned, together with all who adhered to them, and the worship of images again made an ordinance of the church, with, however, the nice distinction, that to the saints and images only prostration of the body rrjffiQ) was due, whilst the worship of the heart belonged to God alone. Thence the council removed to the capital, in order there to confirm their resolutions. In that city also, measures had been so well concerted, that every thing passed off with the utmost tranquillity. Amidst loud acclamations of joy, the empress, together with her son, subscribed the decree, which, as the act of
GERMAN INDEPENDENCE. 107
an oecumenical council, was to be received as valid by the whole Christian world. It was, therefore, sent to Pope Hadrian I., in order that he might communicate it to the sovereigns of the West.
In the West of Europe, a proper position, in relation to divine worship, had hitherto been assigned to images. They served rather to ornament sacred edifices, and to deepen the solemn impression which such places are calculated to make, than to awaken or become the objects of devotion. The predilection for image-worship, which the Romans had transferred from paganism to Christianity, was unfelt by the Germans who had adored their former deities, not so much in artificial representations as in natural objects. Superstition existed nevertheless among them also, but under a different form. They worshipped the relics rather than the images of saints, and expected to receive from the former, what the Greeks hoped to obtain from the latter — assistance in the time of need, protection in the hour of danger. The decree of the Nicene council was the less likely to meet with a favour- able reception among the Germans, as prostration of the body, in the Greek sense, conveyed a totally different meaning to the natives of the West, from that which it imparted to the subjects of Oriental despotism. The free-born German was accustomed to behold in his feudal sovereign, only the first among his equals, and to bow his knee to God alone ; whilst the Greek would not think of denying to the saints the homage which he offered to the emperor. Neither the language nor the habits of the Western nations accorded with a practice, which, being familiar to the inhabitants of the Byzantine
108 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
empire, might be adapted to religious purposes, without exciting in them any painful feelings. In addition to the aversion of the Western church to image-worship, the friendly correspondence between the Byzantine and French courts was at the same time broken off ; the blame of which, indeed, rested entirely with Irene. The am- bitious empress was not disposed to suffer the reins of government to be wrested out of her hands ; and the friends of image-worship, who had every thing to hope from Irene, and, on the other hand, every thing to fear from the dubious sentiments of the youthful Constantine? encouraged her in her purpose of retaining possession of the throne to the prejudice of her son's rights. She could not, however, but regard the projected marriage of Constantine with a daughter of Charlemagne as an im- pediment to her design, as it was easy to foresee that the French monarch would not permit the degradation of his son-in-law. She, therefore, annulled the contract betwixt her son and Rotrudis, and forced him to accept an Armenian maiden as a consort. At the same time, she entered into an alliance with Charles' enemies, the duke of Beneventum and Prince Adalgis of Lombardy, and endeavoured to put an end to the French influence in Italy, by restoring to the Lombardian kingdom its former constitution, a plan which, as has been already related, entirely failed. Under these circumstances, it may easily be imagined that the pope found himself placed in a dilemma, on receiving the resolutions of the Nicene council for the express purpose of communicating them to Charlemagne. He was aware of the aversion felt by the French clergy to image- worship, and of the just
REJECTION OF THE DECREES OF NICE. 109
displeasure entertained by Charles against a court which had so grievously offended him. Hadrian had, therefore, abstained from giving him any intimation respecting the council at Nice, and of the part taken by himself in their deliberations, but had endeavoured to keep him in igno- rance of the whole transaction. Now, however, that con- cealment was no longer practicable, he despatched a copy of the Nicene resolutions to Charles in the year 792. The French monarch would, at any time, have hesitated to con- cede to an assembly, summoned without his knowledge or consent, and in which the West of Christendom was repre- sented only by two nuncios from the pope, a right to im- pose laws on the whole Christian world ; but he had now a double motive for refusing to permit a hostile court to prescribe to him the course he was to pursue. He, therefore, resolved not to submit to the resolutions of the Nicene council, but to reject them through the in- strumentality of a general council, to be held in the West of Christendom. He sent a transcript of the acts to England, and requested Alcuin to refute them, and to procure their condemnation in that country ; then he begged him to return to the continent, in order to be present at the council, which he proposed summoning to decide upon this matter, and upon the doctrine of the Adoptionists. Alcuin composed a treatise, in which he proved that the worship of images was inconsistent with the doctrines of Scripture, and the authority of the Fathers. This treatise determined the sentiments of the English princes and bishops : the Nicene council, though attended and sanctioned by the pope, whose authority had formerly been undisputed by the Anglo-Saxons, was
110 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
pronounced to be illegal; and Alcuin was invested with full powers to impart their decision to the French monarch1.
4. — Decision of the Council of Frankfort upon the Doctrine of the Adoptionists and Image-worship.
Alcuin returned to Charlemagne at the conclusion of the year 792, or the commencement of the following year, attended, as ambassador of the Anglo-Saxon church and state, by a retinue of English ecclesiastics.2 Their presence was necessary to give the conference, which was about to be held, the authority of a general council of Western Christendom ; for the king's command could ensure the attendance of the bishops and abbots residing in all the German states, which had been Christianized and united under the French sceptre. But Britain was sufficiently independent of France, to refuse, if she pleased, all participation in this assembly ; and, from her insular situation, so secure, as to be under no apprehension from the resentment of a king who was destitute of a navy. That she nevertheless showed herself willing to unite with the French, is to be attributed to the influence of Alcuin.
Previous to the convocation of the council, Alcuin endeavoured to convince the Adoptionists of their error. He wrote to bishop Felix3, earnestly importuning him to renounce his heresy : " Venture not," he exclaims, " to enter upon a useless contest. The truths of the Gospel illuminate the whole earth. Let us only maintain and propagate the doctrines it teaches. What can we, frail mortals, amongst so many of whom love begins to grow
COUNCIL OF FRANKFORT. Ill
cold, imagine better than to adhere to the principles of the Apostles and Evangelists, with all the firmness and fidelity of true faith, without inventing new names, bring- ing forward strange conceits, or desiring to acquire a vain reputation by some novelty in doctrine, whereby we may bring upon ourselves censure, whilst we hoped to obtain praise ?" The tone of this letter was not calculated to produce a favourable result. Alcuin too hastily pre- supposed Felix to be in the path of error, and exalted himself above him with too much arrogance1, not to provoke a quarrel. Felix consequently composed a trea- tise in defence of his opinions, and in opposition to Alcuin ; but before he had completed and transmitted it to him, the Spanish bishops, who concurred in the new doctrine, appealed to the justice of King Charles, re- presenting, in their letters, that their opponents were heretics, whilst they, on the other hand, only endeavoured to uphold the true faith in its purity2. Nothing, there- fore, remained to be done, but to refer the matter to the decision of an ecclesiastical council, which was accord- ingly summoned by the king, in the year 794. The place appointed for the conference was Frankfort, a royal villa on the banks of the Maine. This place was then of recent origin, and owed the foundation of its future splendour to the number of bishops and abbots, and the vast concourse of lay nobility, who were attracted thither from all parts of the French kingdom. The natural con- sequence of numerous and frequent convocations, and of the more than usually long residence of the court and its retinue, was to draw together a number of people, anxious to supply the demands for the commodities of life which
112 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
were thus created. Artizans and merchants took up their abode there for the purposes of trade, aud the place being favourable for traffic, they made a permanent set- tlement. The frequent mention of Frankfort, subsequently to the year 794, proves that the prosperity and import- ance of this town began and increased with the meetings which were held there.1 The number of bishops is said to have been three hundred, in which computation the abbots and clergy who accompanied them are not in- cluded. Many years had elapsed, since the West of Europe had beheld so splendid an assemblage of church dignitaries as the present council presented. It is, also, the first which was constructed on principles which formed henceforth the basis of the political and ecclesias- tical privileges of the West $ and therefore the form and manner of its constitution possess claims to our atten- tion independently of the importance of the subject of its deliberations. It consisted of the three following divisions occupied by the members according to their nation and rank. The church of Rome, which was represented by the Pope's legates, Stephen and Theophilactus, naturally took the precedence as guardian of the Apostolical traditions. Next in order, came the church of Lombardy, at the head of which stood the archbishop of Milan and the patriarch of Aquileia ; the third part was formed by the Cis-alpine clergy. To these three constituent parts, which were of a spiritual character, was added a fourth, consisting of Charles, as the son and protector of the holy church of God, and his chief lay nobility ; for their consent was essential, in order to execute by temporal means, that which might be spiritually determined2. To the king
DISPUTATION AT FRANKFORT. 113
ikewise, belonged" the right of introducing the matters to be treated of, and of appointing the order in which they should be brought forward. Amongst the subjects proposed for the deliberation and decision of the council, the doctrine of the Adoptionists and the worship of images came first under discussion ; and as it was with these two points only that Alcuin was engaged, they merit a detailed and exclusive narrative, Alcuin was recom- mended to the assembly by Charles himself, and on this powerful recommendation admitted.1 It appears that he took with him the first book which he had written in refu- tation of the sentiments of Felix, and in which he had collected the testimony of the Fathers against the new doctrines.2 At least, it is certain that he presented it to the Abbot Benedict of Anian, who was then at Frankfort to take it home with him, in order to fortify the clergy of Septimania against the dangerous influence of their heretical neighbours.3 Neither Felix, nor any of the Adoptionists, attended the conference of Frankfort ; con- sequently there was no one to be found who possessed either the desire or the ability to oppose the testimony of the fathers, the decree of the pope, and the majority of the bishops, whose adherence to the ancient doctrine was probably the result more of convenience than conviction. The decision of the council at Frankfort was, therefore, a ratification of the sentence of condemnation which had been pronounced two years previously at Ratisbon.4 The resolutions of the council were communicated to the Arch- bishop Elipandus, and the bishops residing in those parts of Spain which were subject to the Saracens, by means of a document transmitted in the name of the king ;
114 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
but in consideration of the independent position of Elipandus, it was in the form less of a rigorous com- mand than an urgent and convincing exhortation. The principle that so numerous an assembly of the church could not err, was therein assumed ; for if the Lord had promised that where two or three were gathered together in his name, he would be in the midst of them, could any one doubt that he had been with, and enlightened the minds of a venerable assembly convened for his honour ? The Adoptionists were required to return into the bosom of the church, and to subscribe the annexed orthodox confession of faith, or to prepare themselves to be de- nounced as heretics, and excluded from communion with that church in which alone salvation was to be found1. In this document, no notice was taken of Felix, because it seemed evident that he, as a French bishop, must ac- knowledge the authority of a council summoned by the king, and ratified by the pope, and submit to its deci- sions. We shall, however, presently see that he did neither the one nor the other, but, on the contrary, brought forward new arguments in favour of his opinions, which appeared to the king of sufficient importance to call for a fresh examination.
For the present, however, the affair seemed to have been settled in a legitimate way, to the great satisfaction both of the king and the pope. Their views differed with regard to the decision of the second point — image- worship. Regarded as a matter of religion, image- worship was an abomination to the inhabitants of Cis- alpine Gaul. Considered in a political point of view, the unreasonable demand of the Byzantine court, that a
INDEPENDENCE OF THE WESTERN CHURCH. 115
council summoned by its authority should be recognised as oecumenical, and that resolutions adopted in a great measure by military constraint, should be received as general laws of the church, was a claim which wounded the pride of the French king. Willing, as Charles might be, to concede to the pope, as head of a church which in- herited the Apostolical traditions, a superiority in wisdom, and authority in ecclesiastical matters ; still the pope had not been represented at the council of Nice as the head of the church, but simply as an equal among equals. There, he was no more than any other archbishop of the Byzan- tine empire, a rank which was no longer reconcileable with his totally altered position. In the course of the contro- versy upon images, the relation in which he stood to France, had procured for him so much influence with that nation, and so important a part in its constitution, that it was impossible for him to return to his former position with regard to the court of Byzantium, without causing the utmost confusion. By the re-introduction of image- worship, the cause of disunion had indeed been removed ; but it was not so easy to annihilate consequences as to annul resolutions, or to restore a state of things, when once it had passed away, as statues and pictures. It was necessary, therefore, to substitute a new subject of dissen- sion for the opposition to images, which, for the moment at least, was* terminated. A declaration of independence on the paii of the Western church, in no way affecting the supremacyof the pope, would prevent him from renewing his alliance* Vith the Byzantine empire, and lead him by the natural course of events to contribute to the founda- tion of a Western empire, independent of the East. Whilst
116 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
Charles was endeavouring, at the expense of religion, to disengage politics from the confusion in which they were involved, he rendered the most essential service to the papal authority. The defenders of the interests of the holy see have cause to be dissatisfied with the deci- sion of the council of Frankfort, only in so far as it rejected a doctrine which has subsequently become pre- valent in the Catholic church . It may, however, afford them some consolation to know, that the assembled fathers were led astray by misunderstanding and passion. For in the manner in which Charles had the subject laid before them, it could not but meet with unanimous oppo- sition and rejection : but it is difficult to determine whether ignorance of Greek or wilful misrepresentation was the cause of the misconception. In the first place, the council summoned by Irene was not acknowledged as oecumenical1. It may, indeed, appear strange, that in the official documents, Constantinople is mentioned as the place of that meeting ; but this change of name is easily accounted for by the fact, that the legates of the pope were summoned originally to Constantinople ; and when the council, after having commenced its delibera- tions in the capital, was compelled to dissolve in conse- quence of the tumultuous proceedings of the soldiers of Constantine, they remained, in order to accompany the assembly to Nice, without requiring or receiving any fresh credentials. The Synod at Nice was considered by them merely as a prolongation of that at Constantinople, and the more so as on the breaking up of the assembly, the members returned to Constantinople for the purpose of procuring the signature to their resolutions. The less
CARLOVINGIAN PAPERS. 117
importance is to be attached to this discrepancy in the names, as, in the first place, it is not entirely groundless, and in the next place, the fathers assembled at Frankfort were not ignorant of the real place of meeting1. But the resolutions of the Byzantine council were perverted, and brought before the council at Frankfort in a hateful form ; for, regardless of the distinction made by the Greeks between worship of the heart and prostration of the body, the very principle, viz., that the same reverence was due to images as to the Holy Trinity, which had been disclaimed by the Nicene council, was represented as the decision of that body. This principle was naturally denounced as heretical2. It is impossible to avoid sus- pecting that the king abused his privilege of propounding the subjects of deliberation, and by a false representation endeavoured to excite the passions of the assembly, and bring them over to his interests. Although nuncios from the pope were present, and could have explained to the members that they were under a mistake, it does not appear ihat they either did so, or had any authority so to do. The Catholic church, therefore, can more easily get over the decision of the council at Frankfort, which was the result of a false statement, than the treatise which appeared in the name of Charlemagne, justifying the rejection of image-worship. This work is best known under the title of the Carlovingian Papers, and would de- serve especial notice, as one of the most remarkable literary productions of that period, even were Alcuin not its sup- posed author. As it attacks in forcible and vehement language, and not without considerable strength of argu- ment, an object which has become dear to the Catholic
118 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
church, it could not remain free from hostile assaults. The first printed edition appeared in the year 1549, with- out the name of the printer and editor, who did not ven- ture to declare himself ; but it is known that we are indebted for it to Jean de Tillet, a French bishop1. It was immediately reprinted in Germany ; but the scarcity of the two first editions proves how eagerly and success- fully the Catholics sought to suppress them. Fortunately, the Protestants took under their protection a treatise exposed to such danger, and thus rescued it from the an- nihilation which threatened it2. The Roman hierarchy, having thus failed in suppressing the work, endeavoured, at least, to cast -a suspicion upon its authenticity. Taking advantage of an external similarity, the Catholics asserted it to be the production of Karlstadt, who, in the beginning of the reformation at Wittemberg, began, and preached in favour of, the destruction of images, although the con- tents throughout clearly refuted this statement. It is only necessary to read the Carlovingian Papers, and see "how exalted a position is assigned to the Pope and church of Rome3, to be persuaded that so zealous a reformer as Karlstadt could not have had the remotest share in such a composition. The sentiments therein expressed, as well as the language and style, belong much more to the time of Charlemagne ; and no impartial reader will doubt its genuineness, when to these internal evidences is added the incontestible historical testimony afforded by a passage in a letter from Archbishop Hincmar to his nephew, wherein he not only mentions that he had read the Carlovingian Papers, when a pupil at the court-school, but also quotes an entire chapter from them4.
ALCUIN THEIR AUTHOR. 119
Almost as little doubt can exist, that Alcuin was the author of this production, as of its authenticity. Whilst in England, he had written a treatise against image- worship, which he took with him to the council at Frank- fort. He was therefore better entitled than any other man to prosecute the subject, and was called upon to do so by the confidence of the king, which no one possessed or deserved in a higher degree than Alcuin. In this work, abounding in quotations, both from the Fathers and classical authors, we discern no symptom of a paucity of books, the want of which, Alcuin, some years later, felt so much in France ; which also furnishes a proof, that the greater part of it was written in England. The style confirms, instead of contradicting this assumption.1 But the treatise may so far deserve to bear the name of Charles, as it is throughout stamped with the impress of his mind. The feeling which he entertained towards the court and pretensions of Byzantium, transfused its bitter- ness into the pen of Alcuin, and led him not merely to expose and systematically refute the errors of the Nicene council ; but also prominently to exhibit every thing that might wound the pride of the empress Irene, or render the vanity of the Greeks ridiculous. This is apparent in the criticism upon the letter of Irene, addressed to Pope Hadrian, with which the Carlovingian Papers commence,7 and likewise in the manner in which the pope is placed in his relation to the imperial court. The principles avowed in this work are in perfect accordance with the sentiments of Alcuin, which have already been expressed, regarding the dignity and infallibility of the papal see3. It is proved^ by the example of St. Jerome, that in all times
120 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
the most learned and enlightened men had not held their own judgment in such high estimation, as to allow them to dispense with the advice of the pope. The avowal which the author makes in the name of the king is very remarkable ; he declares that he had endeavoured, from the commencement of his reign, to form the Cisalpine churches on the model of that of Rome, and to establish a perfect unanimity with that church, to the head of which the keys of heaven were committed1. So far, the advo- cates for the rights of the Roman church have no reason to complain of a treatise which satisfies their most ambi- tious wishes. But the pope had declared himself the protector of images, and the author of the Carlovingian Papers was decidedly opposed to them. In a series of chapters, he refutes, following step by step the acts of the Nicene council, the arguments drawn from the Bible in favour of image-worship. This refutation constitutes a large and important portion of the work, but requires the less minute description, as it is throughout written in the style of Alcuin, which has already been sufficiently ex- hibited. The Nicene council, for example, had adduced as a proof of the admissibility of image-worship, that Solomon set up the images of oxen and lions in the temple. In refutation of this, the author observes, that he himself did not condemn images when used as memo- rials or ornaments, but only when they were regarded as objects of sinful adoration ; but as to the images in the Temple at Jerusalem, it was manifest that the Nicene council had been under the influence of a lying spirit? when it sought to support its errors by a circumstance which signified a mystery of the church. For the oxen
REFUTATION OF THE DECREES OF NICE. 121
and lions were symbolical figures of the apostles, and their successors placed by Christ in his church, who were to display towards the good and the penitent the patience of oxen, but who were to exercise towards the obdurate the fury of a lion.1
In the third book, the author proceeds from the consi- deration of the general testimony of the Holy Scriptures, to the particular decrees of the bishops forming the council of Nice ; and could with the greater facility refute them both by argument and ridicule, as they were in con- tradiction not only to the manners of the West of Europe, but likewise to common sense. It was not difficult to de- monstrate that the reverence paid to the statues of the emperor was no justification of that shown to the images of saints, but that the one was as objectionable as the other. If heathen customs were to be adopted in the churches, then it would soon come to pass that the houses of God would be turned into theatres, and the abode of peace be filled with the performances of gladiators. The apostle, however, enjoined us not to take the emperor and the world for our examples, but said, " Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ"1 (ICor.xi. 1). "There- fore," exclaims he, "far be it from the Catholic religion, that the perverted customs of profligate heathenism should be imitated and adopted by Christian sobriety.2" To various weak points of this description, which the Nicene council had exposed to attack, by resting their arguments upon local interests, instead of general and rational principles? maxims were added which were revolting to the moral feelings. They adduced, for example, the following anecdote, as an evidence of the lawfulness of image-
122 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
worship : — A certain monk had been so long and griev- ously tempted by the devil to sensual indulgence, that he longed to rid himself at any price of the torment; and at last, at the desire of his tormentor, sacrificed to him the worship of images, binding himself with a solemn oath never again to offer adoration to an image. No sooner did his abbot hear of this, than he cried out in a transport of rage. " It had been better for thee to have visited every brothel in the city, than to have denied to the images of the Lord, or of his Holy Mother, the adoration that is due to them." The council at Nice assented to this principle, by inserting the story in their acts, and by bringing it forward as an argument. " Is not this," exclaims Alcuin, or the author of the Carlovingian Papers, " is not this an unparalleled absurdity ? a ruinous evil ? an insanity wilder than has ever yet been known ? It had been better for him, he says, to have been guilty of an action forbidden both by the law and the Gospel, than to abstain from that which is commanded by no law, either human or divine ! It had been better for him, he says, to have committed a crime, than to have avoided a crime ; better to defile the Temple of God, than to despise the worship of senseless statues ! Let him tell us, whether he can any where find that the Lord has said, ( Thou shalt not refuse to worship images ;' whereas, it is known to all the world that he has commanded this, ' Thou shalt not commit adultery.' Let him tell us, whether he can any where find that the Lord has declared, * If thou seest an image and adorest it not, thou hast sinned;' while every one xknows that he has said, ' Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath committed
OPINIONS REGARDING IMAGE-WORSHIP, 123
adultery with her already in his heart.' Whoever attempts to support his assertions by such examples as this, proves that he possesses folly of no ordinary kind, but that it surpasses that of all others.1"
The Greeks had carried their opinions both for and against image-worship to extremes, and consequently supported them rather by sophistry than solid argument. The author of the Carlovingian Papers, on the contrary, had assumed a moderate position between the contending parties, and was thereby enabled, unfettered by partiality, to rebut all their fallacies, and expose the absurdities of their speculations. He often feels himself obliged to re- iterate the declaration that he did not prohibit the pos- session, but the adoration of images ; that he desired not that men should turn away with disgust from the images which had been placed in churches either as decorations or memorials, but that it was the superstitious abuse of them which he condemned2. Having taken this position, the decree of the Iconoclasts at the council of Constanti- nople, appeared to him just as reprehensible as the oppo- site error into which that of Nice had fallen, whilst the result of his investigation was recommended by the ap- probation of Western Christendom, by the assent of the understanding, and by the authority of one of the most eminent among the Popes, Gregory the Great3. In pur- suance, therefore, of the sentence of this pope, it was enacted as a fundamental law of the Western churches, that images should be permitted to remain outside the churches, and that it was equally unlawful to insist upon their adoration, and to consent to their destruction4.
Charlemagne transmitted, by the hands of the abbot
124 THE LIFE OF ALCUIN.
Angilbert, the acts of the Frankfort council, together with the work composed in his name, to Pope Hadrian ; requiring him not merely to confirm the decisions of the said council, but also demanding, with a passionate eager- ness, resulting from his personal feeling of hostility to- wards the Byzantine court, the formal condemnation of the Emperor Constantine, and his mother, Irene. This placed the pope in an embarrassing situation. On the one hand, he durst not be guilty of the inconsistency of condemning a council to which he himself had sent a legate, and of which he had approved ; and, on the other, it was equally impossible to refute the arguments, and overcome the aversion of the French clergy as to dispute the authority of Gregory the Great. This