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A Brief History of the English lan
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• • • •.
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CONTENTS.

ELEVENTH LECTURE.
terpetnity of the Roman law after the fall of the Empire — Of the History of
the Roman Law in the Middle Ages, by M. de Savigny — Merits and defi-
i ciencies of this work — 1. Boman law among the Visigoths — Breviarium
Aniani, collected by command of Alaric — History and contents of this
collection — 2. Roman law among the Burgundians — Papiani Respon-
' soman — History and contents of ihis law — 3. Boman law among the,
Franks — No new collection — The perpetuity of Boman law proved by
various facts — Becapitulation .  . . p. 1
TWELFTH LECTURE.
ibject of the lecture — State of the church in Gaul, from the sixth to the
middle of the eighth century — Analogy between the primitive state of the
religious society and the civil society — The unity of the church or the
spiritual society — Two elements or conditions of spiritual society; 1st.
1 Unity of truth, that is to say, of absolute reason ; 2nd. Liberty of minds,
or individual reason — State of these two ideas in the Christian church
J torn the sixth to the eighth century — She adopts one and rejects the
other — Unity of the church in legislation — General councils — Dif
ference between the eastern and the western church as regards the perse-
1 cution of heretics — Belations of the church with the state, ftom the sixth
to the eighth century : 1st, in the eastern empire ; 2nd, in the west,
especially in Frankish Gaul — Interference of the temporal power in the
affairs of the church — Of the spiritual power in the affairs of the state —
Becapitulation  p. 17
THIRTEENTH LECTURE.
if the internal organization and state of the Gallo-Frankish church, from the
sixth to the eighth century — Characteristic facts of the Gaulish church
at the fifth century — What became of them after the invasion — The ex
clusive domination of the clergy in the religious society continues—
Facts which modify it : 1. Separation of ordination and tenure ; priests
not ecclesiastics — 2. Patronage by laymen of the churches wliich they
founded — 3. Oratories, or particular chapels — 4. Advocates of tho
b

VI CONTENTS
churches — Picture of the general organization of the church — Parishes
and their priests — Archpriests and archdeacons — Bishops — Archbishops
— Attempts to establish the patriarchates in the west — Fall of the
archbishops — Preponderance and despotism of the episcopacy — Struggle
of the priests and parishes against the bishops— The bishops triumphant
— Despotism corrupts them — Decline of the secular clergy — Necessity
for a reformation ...  . p. 30
FOURTEENTH LECTURE.
History of the regular clergy, or the monks, from the sixth to the eightli
century — That the monks were at first laymen — Importance of this fact
— Origin and progressive development of the monastic life in the east —
First rules — Importation of the monks into the west — They are ill re
ceived there — Their first progress — Difference between eastern and
western monasteries — Opinion of Saint Jerome, as to the errors of the
monastic life — General causes of its extension — State of the monks im
tbe west in the fifth century — Their power and their want of coher
ence — Saint Benedict — His life — He founds the monastery of Monte
Cassino — Analysis and estimate of his rule — It diffuses itself through-]
out the west, and becomes predominant in almost all the monasteries]
there  p. 60
FIFTEENTH LECTURE.
The relations of the monks with the clergy, from the fourth to the eighthf
century— Their primitive independence — Causes of its decline — 1. In
proportion as the number and the power of the monks were augmentedSj
the bishops extended their jurisdiction over them — Canons of the*
councils — 2. The monks demand and obtain privileges — 3. They aspire
to enter into the clergy — Differences and contests among the monks
themselves upon this subject — The bishops at first repulse their preteitl
sions — They give way to them — In entering into the clergy the monks loaf
their independence — Tyranny of the bishops over the monasteries — Be*
sistanoe of the monks — Charters granted by the bishops to some monas-i
teries — The monks have recourse to the protection of the kings,' to'
that of the popes — Character and limits of the intervention — Similarity
between the struggle of the monasteries against the bishops and that of
the commons against the feudal lords  p. 82
SIXTEENTH LECTURE.
Fram the sixth to the eighth century, all profane literature disappearsd;
sacred literature alone remained — This is evident in the schools and
writings of this epoch — 1. Of the schools in Gaul from the sixth to the
eighth century — Cathedral schools — Rural schools — Monastic schools-?
What they taught there — 2. Of the writings of the day — General cha-.
lacter of literature — It ceased to be speculative, and to seek more especi
ally science and intellectual enjoyments ; it became practical ; knowledge.,

CONTENTS., vii
eloquence, writings, were made means of action — Influence of this charac
teristic upon the idea formed of the intellectual state at this epoch — It
produced scarcely any works, it has no literature properly so called ; still
minds were active — Its Uterature consists in sermons and legends —
Bishops and missionaries — 1st, Of Saint Cesaire, bishop of Aries — Of
his sermons — 2nd, Of Saint Columban, missionary, and abbot of Luxeuil
— Character of sacred eloquence at this epoch . . . . . . p. 99
SEVENTEENTH LECTURE.
Preface of the Old Mortality of Walter Scott — Robert Patterson — Preface of
the Vie de. Saint Marcellin, bishop of Embrun, written at the commence
ment of the sixth century — Saint Ceran, bishop of Paris — Eagerness of
the Christians of these tinles to coUect the traditions and monuments of
the life of the saints and martyrs — Statistics of tlnV branch of sacred
literature: — Collection of the BoUandists — Cause of the number and popu
larity of legends — They almost alone satisfy at this epoch — 1. The wants
of the moral nature of man — Examples : Life of Saint Bavon, of Saint
Wandi-egisilus, of Saint Valery — 2. The wants of physical nature —
Examples : Life of St. Germain of Paris, of Saint Wandregisilus, of
Saint Rusticvlus, of Saint Sulpicius of Bourges — 3. The wants of the
imagination — Examples : Life of Saint Seine, of Saint Austregesilus — •
Literary defects and merits of legends  p. 120
EIGHTEENTH LECTURE.
Some wrecks of profane literature from the sixth to the eighth century — Of
their true character — 1st, Prose writers — Gregory of Tours — His Ufe —
His Ecclesiastical History of the Franks — The influence of the ancient
Latin literature unites with that of the Christian doctrines — Mixture of
civil and religious history — Fredegaire — His Chronicle — 2ndly, Poets —
Saint Avitus, bishop of Vienne — His life — His poems ou the Creation —
Original sin — The condemnation of man — The Deluge — The passage of
the Red Sea — The praise of virginity — Comparison of the three first with
the Paradise Lost of Milton — Fortunatus, bishop of Poictiers — His
life — His relations with Saint Radegonde — His poems — Tneir character
— First origin of French literature  p. 138
NINETEENTH LECTURE.
The causes and the character of the revolution which substituted the Car-
lovingians for the Merovingians — Recapitulation of the history of civi
lization in France under the Merovingian kings — The Frankish state
in its relations with the neighbouring nations — The Frankish state in
its internal organization — The aristocratical element prevailed in it, but
without entirety or regularity — The state of the Frankish church —
Episcopacy prevails in it, but is itself thrown into decay — Two new
' powers arise — 1st. The Austrasian Franks — Mayors of the palace — The
family of the Pepins — 2. Papacy — Circumstances favourable to its pro-

Viii CONTENTS.
gress— Causes which drew and united the Australian Franks to the
popes— The conversion of the Germans beyond the Rhine— Relations
of the Anglo-Saxon missionaries, on the one hand, with the popes, on
the other, with the mayors of the palace of Austrasia — Saint Boniface—
The popes have need of the Austrasian Franks against the Lombards— ;
Pepin-le-Bref has need of the pope to make himself king— Their alliance,
and the new direction which it impressed upon civiUzation — Conclu
sion of the first part of the course  • P- 162
TWENTIETH LECTURE.
Beign of Charlemagne — Greatness of his name — Is it true that he settled
nothing ? that all that he did has perished with him ? — Of the action of
great men — They play a double part— That which they do, in virtue of
the first, is durable ; that which they attempt, under the second, passes
away with them— Example of Napoleon — Necessity of being thoroughly
acquainted with the history of events under. Charlemagne, in order to
understand that of civilization — How the events may be recapitulated in
tables— 1. Charlemagne as a warrior and conqueror : Table of his prin
cipal expeditions — Their meaning and results — 2. Charlemagne as an
administrator and legislator — Of the government of the provinces — Of
the central government — Table of national assemblies under his reign —
Table of his capitularies — Table of the acts and documents which remain
of this epoch — 3. Charlemagne as a protector of intellectual develop- i
ment : Table of the celebrated cotemporaneous men — Estimation of the j
general results, and of the character of his reign ..... p. 182
TWENTY-FIRST LECTURE.
Object of the lecture — Of capitularies in general — Review of the capitularies ;
of the Carlovingian Frank kings— Of the two fdrms under which the
capitularies have descended to us — Scattered capitularies — Collection of
Angesise and of the deacon Benedict— Of the edition of the capitularies
by Baluze — Erroneous idea generally entertained as to capitularies —
They are not invariably laws — Great variety in these acts — Attempt at
classification — Table of contents of the capitularies of Charlemagne:
1. Moral legislation — 2. Political legislation — 3. Penal legislation — i.
Civil legislation — 5. Religious legislation — 6. Canonical legislation — j
7. Domestic legislation — 8. Incidental legislation — True character of the'
capitularies   p. 211
TWENTY-SECOND LECTURE.
Of intellectual decay in Frankish Gaul, from the fifth to the eighth century
— Of its causes — It ceases under the reign of Charlemagne  Difficulty
of describing the state of the human mind at this epoch  Alcuin is its
most complete and faithful representative— Life of Alcuin — His labours
for the restoration of manuscripts — For the restoration of schools— His

CONTENTS. IX
teaching in the school of the palace — His relations with Charlemagne —
His conduct as abbot of Saint Martin of Tours — His works ; 1. Theo
logical ; 2. Philosophical and literary ; 3. Historical ; 4. Poetical — His
general character   p. 228
TWENTY-THIRD LECTURE.
Classification of celebrated men of the age of Charlemagne : 1. Leidrade,
archbishop of Lyons — His letter to Charlemagne upon what he has done
in his diocese — 2. Theodulph, archbishop of Orleans — His measures for
the instruction of the people — His poem entitled Exhortation to Judges-
3. Smaragde, abbot of Saint Michael — His treatise of morality for kings,
entitled Via Regia — 4. Eginhard — His alleged marriage with a
daughter of Charlemagne — Their relations — Of what happened after the
death of this prince — His letters — His Life of Charlemagne — Re
capitulation  p. 254
TWENTY-FOURTH LECTURE.
The progress and causes of the dismemberment of the empire of Charle
magne — 1. State of this empire in 843, after the treaty of Verdun —
Inferior state of the kingdom of France at this epoch — 2. In 888, after
the death of Charles le Gros — Seven kingdoms — Definitive establish
ment of the inheritance of fiefs in France — Twenty-nine small states,
or important fiefs, founded at the end of the ninth century — 3. In 987,
at the fall of the Carlovingians — Four kingdoms — In France, fifty-five
important fiefs — Explanation of this dismemberment — Their insufficiency
— One only, the diversity of races, developed by M. Thierry, is probable,
but incomplete — The true cause is the impossibiUty of a great state at
that epoch, and the progressive rise of the local societies which formed
the feudal confederation . .  2"0

TWENTY-FLFTH LECTURE.
History of legislation from the death of Charlemagne to the accession of
Hugh Capet — Necessity of precisely determining the general characteris
tics of the legislation at the two terms of this epoch, in order to under
stand properly its progress during its course — 1. State of the legislation
under Charlemagne — It is personal, and varies according to races — The
church and the imperial power give it some unity — 2. State of the legis
lation after Hugh Capet — It is territorial; local customs have replaced
national laws — All central legislative power has disappeared — 3. History
of legislation in Frankish Gaul between these two terms — Analytical
tables of the capitularies of Louis le Debonnaire, Charles le Ghauve,
Louis le Begue, Carloman, Eudes,vand Charles le Simple — Comparison
of these tables according to the figures only — Comparison of the provi
sions of the capitularies — General results of this inquiry . . p. 293

CONTENTS

TWENTY- SIXTH LECTURE.
Object of the lecture — Internal history of the Gallo-Frankish church, from
the middle of the 8th century to the end of the 10th— Anarchy which
pervaded it in the first half of the 8th century — Twofold principle of
reform — The reformation is actually undertaken by the first Carlovin-
gians : 1. By the civil power; 2. By the ecclesiastical power — Spe
cial reforms — Order of Canons — Its origin and progress — Reformation
of the monastic orders by Saint Benedict d'Aniane — They change charac
ter — Preponderance of the temporal power in the Gallo-Frankish church •
at this epoch — Proofs — Still the church progresses towards its future
preponderance — But it is not to the profit of its own government, of the
bishops of France, that this progress is to turn . ... p. 310
TWENTY- SEVENTH LECTURE.
History of papacy — Peculiar situation of the city of Rome — Relations of the
popes about the middle of the eighth century, with the Italian, Spanish, |
Anglo-Saxon, Gallo-Frankish, and Germanic churches — Their alliance
with the early Carlovingians — Advantages which they drew from it —
Donation of Pepin and of Charlemagne — Sovereignty of the Carlovmgian |
emperors over the popes — Uncertainty of the ideas, and incoherenoy of
the facts concerning the rights of papacy — It increases more ana more
in minds — It apparently acquires a legal title — False decretals — Nicho
las I. — His character — Affair of the marriage of Lothaire and of Teut-
berge — Affair of Rhotarde, bishop of Soissons — Triumph of papacy: 1.
Over temporal sovereigns ; 2. Over national churches — Its decided pre
ponderance in the west  p. 328
TWENTY-EIGHTH LECTURE.
Of the intellectual condition of Frankish Gaul, from the death of Charle
magne to the accession of Hugh Capet — Sketch of the celebrated men
of this period — The theological mind — The philosophical mind — Hinc-
mar and John Erigena are respectively their representatives — Life of
Hincmar — His activity and influence as archbishop of Reims — 1. Con
cerning his relations with kings and popes — 2. Concerning his admi
nistration in the interior of the Gallo-Frankish church and of his diocese
— 3. Concerning his disputes and theological works — Origin of the
theology of the middle ages — Quarrel between Hincmar and the monk
Gottschalk upon predestination— Numerous writings upon this subject
— Councils of Kiersy, Valence, and Langres — Becapitulation . p. 340
TWENTY-NINTH LECTURE.
Object of the lecture — Of the philosophical spirit in the 9th century-—;
Scotus or Erigena — His country — Date of his birth — Tradition respect
ing his travels in Greece— He settles in France at the court of Charles

CONTENTS. XI
le Chiuve- Of the School of the Palace under Charles — Ancient philo
sophy studied there — Encouragement of Scotus Erigena — His learn
ing — Relations of Christianity with the Neoplatonism of Alexandria —
Their struggle — Attempt at Amalgamation — History and pretended
works of Dionysius the Areopagite — Fundamental differences of the two
doctrines: 1, in the point of departure and the method; 2, in the bases
of the questions — These differences occur between Scotus Erigena and
the Christian theologians of the 9th century — Examination of his works :'
l,De Proedestinatione : 2, De Divisione Naturae — His celebrity and his
death — Recapitulation . . . . '  p. 369
THIRTIETH LECTURE.
General summary of the course — Extent and variety of subjects — The his-
I tory of civilization, its price — It is the result of all partial histories —
I Unity and variety of the existence of a people — Three essential
j elements in French civilization, Greco-Roman antiquity, Christianity,
' 'rermany — 1. Of the Roman element, from the 5th to the 10th century
— Onder a social point of view — Under an intellectual point of view —
a Of the Christian element, from «he 5th to the 10th century — Under
a social point of view — Under an intellectual point of view — 3. Of the
Germanic element, from the 5th to the 10th century — Under a social
Domt of view — Under an intellectual point of view — Two principal facts
characterize this epoch : ] . The prolongation, more or less apparent, but
everywhere real, of Roman society and its influence — 2. The disorderly
and indeterminate fermentation of the different elements of modern civi
lization — Conclusion ....  ... p. 392

ILLUSTRATIONS AND HISTORICAL TABLES.
1. Table of the organization of the court, and of the central government
of the Eoman empire at the commencement of the fifth century, p. 407
II. Table of the hierarchy of ranks and titles in Roman society at the
same epoch  412
III. Narrative of the embassy sent in 449 by Theodosius the Younger,
emperor of the east, to Attila, established on the banks of the
Danube  414
IV. Chronological table of the principal events of the political history
of Gaul, from the fifth to the tenth century  433
V. Chronological table of the principal events in the ecclesiastical
history of Gaul, from the fifth to the tenth century  433
VL Chronological table of the principal events of the literary history
of Gaul, from the fifth to the <enth century  440
VII. Table of the councils and cuaonical legislation of Gaul, from the
flilh to the tenth century  A48

HISTORY OF
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE
from tf)t .fall of tht IRoman 3£mpf«.

ELEVENTH LECTURE.
Perpetuity of the Roman law after the fall of the Empire — Of the History oj
the Roman Law in the Middle Ages, by M. de Savigny — Merits and defi
ciencies of this work — 1. Roman law among the Visigoths — Breviarium
Aniani, collected by command of Alario — History and contents of this
collection — 2. Boman law among the Burgundians— Papiani Bespon-
sorum — History and contents of this law — 3. Roman law among the
Franks — No new collection — The perpetuity of Roman law proved by
various facts — Recapitulation.
You are now. acquainted with the state of German and
Roman society before the invasion. You know the general
result of their first approximation, that is to say, the state of
Gaul immediately after the invasion. We have just studied the
barbaric lawsj that is, the first labour of the German nations
to adapt their ancient customs to their new situation. Let
us now study Roman legislation at the same epoch, that is to
say, that portion of the Roman law and institutions which
survived the invasion and continued to rule the Gallic
Romans. This is the subject of a German work, for some
years past celebrated in the learned world, The History of the
Roman Law in the Middle Ages, by M. de Savigny. The
design of the author is more extended than ours, because he
retraces the history of the Roman law, not only in France,
but throughout Europe. He has also treated of what concerns
VOL. II. B

a HISTORY o?
France with more detail than I have been able to give to it
here; and, before beginning the subject, I must request your
attention a moment while I speak of his work.
The perpetuity of the Roman law, from the fall of the
Empire, until the regeneration of sciences and letters, is its
fundamental idea. The contrary opinion was long and
generally spread; it was believed that Roman law had fallen
with the Empire, to be resuscitated in the twelfth century by
the discovery of a manuscript of the Pandects, found at
Amalfi. This is the error that M. de Savigny has wished
to dissipate. His first two volumes are wholly taken up by
researches into the traces of the Roman law from the fifth to
the twelfth century, and in proving, by recovering its history!
that it had never ceased to exist.
The demonstration is convincing, and the end fully attained,i
Still, the work, considered as a whole, and as an historical
production, leaves room for some observations.
Every epoch, every historical matter, if I may so speai,,
may be considered under three different points of view, and
imposes a triple task upon the historian. He can, nay, he
should first seek the facts themselves; collect and bring to
light, without any aim than that of exactitude, all that has
happened. The facts once recovered, it is necessary to know
the laws that have governed them; how they were connected!
what causes have brought about those incidents which are the
life of society, and propel it, by certain ways, towards certain
ends. I wish to mark with clearness and precision the difference
of the two studies. Facts, properly so called, external and]
visible events, are the body of history; the members, boneqi
muscles, organs, and material elements of the past; their
knowledge and description form what may be called historic!
anatomy. But for society, as for the individual, anatomy ii
not the only science. Not only do facts subsist, but they are
connected with one another; they succeed each other, and a«
engendered by the action of certain forces, which act under
the empire of certain laws. There is, in a word, an organiza
tion and a life of societies, as well as of the individual. Thii
wganization has also its science, the science of the secret lawf
which preside over the course of events. This is the phvsiologv
of history. r J a

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 3
Neither historical physiology nor anatomy are complete
and veritable history. You have enumerated the facts, you
have followed the internal and general laws which produced
them. Do you also know their external and living physi
ognomy? Have you them before your eyes under individual
and animate features? This is absolutely necessary, because
these facts, now dead, have lived — the past has been the
present; and unless it again become so to you, if the dead
are not resuscitated, you know them not; you do not know
history. Could the anatomist and physiologist surmise man
if they had never seen him living?
The research into facts, the study of their organization,
the reproduction of their form and motion, these are his
tory such as truth would have it. We may accept but one
or other of these tasks; we may consider the past under such
or such a point of view, and propose such or such a design;
we may prefer the criticism of facts, or the study of their
laws, or the reproduction of the spectacle. These labours
may be excellent and honourable; but it must never be for
gotten that they are partial and incomplete;1 that this is not
history — that history has a triple problem to resolve; that
every great historical work, in order to be placed in its true
position, should be considered and judged of under a triple
relation. Under the first, as a research of, and criticism upon, histo
rical material elements, The History of the Roman Law in the
Middle Ages, is a very remarkable book. Not only has M.
de Savigny discovered or re-established many unknown or for
gotten facts, but (what is much more rare and difficult) he
has assigned to them their true relation. When I say their
relation, I do not yet speak of the links which unite them in
their development, but merely of their disposition, of the place
which they occupy in regard to one another, and of their rela
tive importance. Nothing is so common in history, even with
the most exact knowledge of facts, as to assign to them a place
other than that which they really occupied, of attributing to
them an importance which they did not possess. M. de Savigny
lias not struck on this rock; his enumeration of facts is
learned and equal; and he distributes and compares them with
Jike knowledge and discernment; I repeat, that, in all that be
longs to the anatomical study of that portion of the past which
b2

4 HISTORY OF
forms the subject of his work, he has left scarcely anything
to be desired.
As a philosophical history, as a study of the general and
progressive organization of facts, I cannot say so much for it.
It does not appear to me that M. de Savigny has proposed
this task to himself, or that he has even thought of it.
Not only has he omitted all attempt to place the particular
history upon which he occupied himself in relation with
the general history of civilization and of human nature, but
even within his own subject, he has troubled himself but
little with any systematic concatenation of facts; he has not
in the least considered them as causes and effects, in theii
relation of generation. They present themselves in his work,;
totally isolated, and having between them no other relatiol|
than that of dates, a relation which is no true link, and
which gives to facts neither meaning nor value.
Nor do we meet, in any greater degree, with poetical truth)
facts do not appear to M. de Savigny under their living
physiognomy. It is true, upon such a subject, he had neither
characters nor scenes to reproduce; his personages are texts;
and his events publications or abrogations of laws. Still
these texts and legislative reforms belonged to a society which
had its manners and its life; they are associated with events'
more suited to strike the imagination — to invasions, founda
tions of states, &c. There is among these a certain dramatic
aspect to seize; in this M. de Savigny has failed; his disser1
tations are not marked with the hue of the spectacle with
which they are connected; he does not reproduce the exter'j
nal and individual traits of history any more than its intern!]
and general laws. '*'-
And do not suppose that in this there is no other evil thai
that of a deficiency, and that this absence of philosophical
and poetical truth is without influence upon the criticism of
the material elements of history. More than once M. de
Savigny, from not properly taking bold of the laws and phy
siognomy of facts, has been led into error regarding the
facts themselves; he has not deceived himself as to texts
and dates; he has not omitted or incorrectly reported sucl
or such an event; he has committed a species of error fol:
which the English have a word which is wanting in out
tongue, misrepresentation, that is to say, he has spread I

CIVILIZATION IN FSANCE. 5
false hue over facts, arising, not from any inaccuracy in
particular details, but from want of verity in the aspect cf
the whole, in the manner in which the mirror reflects the
picture. In treating, for example, of the social state of the
Germans before the invasion, M. de Savigny speaks in de
tail of the free men, of their situation and their share in
the national institutions ;' his knowledge of historical docu
ments is extensive and correct, and the facts alleged by him
are true; but he has not rightly considered the mobility of
situations among the barbarians, nor the secret contest between
those two societies, the tribe and the warlike band, which co
existed among the Germans, nor the influence of the latter
in altering the individual equality and independence which
served as the foundation of the former, nor the vicissitudes and
successive transformations to which the condition of the free
men was subjected by this influence. Hence arises, in my
opinion, a general mistake in the painting of this condition;
he has made it too fine, too fixed, and too powerful; he has
not, in the least, represented its weakness and approaching fall.
The same fault is seen, although in a less degree, in his
history of the Roman law itself, from the fifth to the twelfth
century; it is complete and correct, as far as the collection of
facts goes ; but the facts are all placed there, so to speak,
upon the same level; one is not present at their successive
modifications, one does not perceive the Roman law transform
itself in proportion as the new society is developed. No moral
concatenation connects these so learnedly and ingeniously
re-established facts. Anatomical dissection, in a word, is the
dominant character of the work; internal organization and
external Hfs, are alike wanting to it.
Reduced to its true nature, as a criticism of material facts,
M. de Savigny's book is original and excellent; it ought to
serve as the basis of all studies whose subject is this epoch,
because it places beyond all doubt the perpetuity of Roman
law from the fifth to the twelfth century, and thus fully
resolves the problem which the author proposed to himself.
Now that it is resolved, one is surprised that this problem
should ever have been raised, and that the permanence of
the Roman law, after the fall of the Empire, should ever have
i T. i. pp. 160—195.

6 HISTORY OF
been doubted. Not only do the barbaric laws everywhere"
make mention of the Roman laws, but there is scarcely a
single documentor act of this epoch which does not, directly
or indirectly, attest their daily application. Perhaps the
error which M. de Savigny has contested, has not been so
general nor so absolute as he appears to suppose, and as it is
commonly said to be. It was the Pandects which reappeared1!]
in the twelfth century; and when people have celebrated the
resurrection of the Roman law at this period, it is above all
of the legislation of Justinian that they have spoken. On
regarding more closely, one will perceive, I think, that the
perpetuity of other portions of the Roman law in the west,
the Theodosian code, for example, and of all the collec
tions of which it served for the basis, has not been so entirely
departed from, as the work of M. de Savigny would give us
to believe. But it matters little; more or less extended, the
error upon this subject was real, and M. de Savigny, in dissi
pating it, has given a prodigious progress to knowledge.
I shall now place before yuu the principal results of his
work, but I shall do so in an order contrary to that which we
have followed in studying the German laws. We commenced:
with the most barbarous, in order to finish with those in which
the Roman spirit had penetrated the deepest. We shall now,
on the contrary, first study the countries where the Roman
law preserved the greatest empire, in order to follow it in the
various degrees of its diminution of strength.
It follows that the kingdom of the Visigoths is the first
upon which we have to occupy ourselves. It was, you will
recal to mind, from the year 466 to 484 that king Euric, who
resided at Toulouse, for the first time caused the customs of
the Goths to be written. In 506, his successor, Alaric II.,
caused the laws of his Roman subjects to be collected and
published under a new form. We read, at the beginning of
some of the manuscripts of this collection, the following
preface: —
" In this volume are contained the laws or decisions of
equity, selected from the Theodosian code and other books,
and explained as has been ordered, the lord king Alaric
being in the twenty-second year of his reign, the illus
trious count Goiaric presiding at this work. Copy of

UTILIZATION Ifl FRANCE. 7
the decree:— Letter of advice to Timothy, Viscount. With
the aid of God, occupied with the interests of our people,
we have corrected, after mature deliberation, all that seemed
iniquitous in the laws, in such manner that, by the labour
of the priests and other noblemen, all obscurity in the Roman
and in our own ancient laws is dissipated, and a greater
clearness is spread over it, to the end that nothing may
remain ambiguous, and offer a subject for lengthened con
troversies for pleaders. All these laws, then, being ex
plained and re-united in a single book by the choice of wise
men, the assent of venerable bishops and of our provincial
subjects, elected with this view, has confirmed the said
collection, to which is appended a clear interpretation.
Our Clemency, then, has ordered the subscribed book to be
entrusted to count Goiaric, for the decision of affairs, to the
end that hereafter all processes may be terminated accord
ing to its dispositions, and that it be not allowed to any
person to put forward any law or rule of equity, unless con
tained in the present book, subscribed as we have ordered, by
the hand of the honourable man Anianus. It is, therefore,
expedient that thou take heed that, in thy jurisdiction, no
other law or form be alleged or admitted; if perchance such
a thing should happen, it shall be at the peril of thy head or
at the expense of thy fortune. We order that this prescript
be joined to the book that we send thee, to the end that the
rule of our will and the fear of the penalty may restrain all
our subjects.
" 'I, Anianus, honourable man, according to the order
of the very glorious king Alaric, have subscribed and published
this volume of Theodosian laws, decisions of equity, and other
books, collected at Aire, the twenty-second year of his reign.
We have collated them.
" * Given the fourth day of the nones of February, the
twenty-second year of the reign of king Alaric, at Toulouse.' "
This preface contains all we know concerning the history
of the digestion of this code. I have a few explanations to
add to it. Goiaric was the count of the palace, charged
with the superintendence of its execution throughout the
kingdom; Anianus, in quality of referendary, was to subscribe
the various copies of it, and send them to the provincial
counts; Timothy is one of these counts. The greater part of

8 HISTORY OF
the manuscripts being but copies made for private pur
poses, give neither the preface nor any letter. The coUec
tion of Alaric contains: 1st, the Theodosian code (sixteen
books); 2nd, the books of civil law of the emperor Theo-
dosius, Valentinian, Marcian, Majorian, and Severus; 3rd,
the Institutes of Gaius, the jurisconsult; 4th, five books
of Paul, the jurisconsult, entitled Receptee Sententice ; 5th,
the Gregorian code (thirteen titles); 6th, the Hermoginian
code (2 titles); 7th, and lastly, a passage from the work of
Papinian, entitled Liber Responsorum.
The Constitutions and Novels of the emperors are called-
Ileges ; the works of the jurisconsults, including the Gregorian;
and Hermoginian codes, which did not emanate from any>
official or public power, bear simply the name of Jus. This'
is the distinction between law and jurisprudence.
The whole collection was called Lex Romana, and not
Breviarium ; the latter name was unknown before the six
teenth century.1 Of the Breviarium Alaricianum, there is bat
one separate edition, published in 1528, at Basle, by Sichard.
It has besides this been inserted, sometimes partially and
sometimes entire, in the various editions of the Theodosian
code. It is divided into two essential parts: 1st, a text or abstract
of the sources of the law which I have just enumerated;.
2nd, an interpretation. The Institutes of Gaius is the only
work in which the interpretation and the text are fused
in one.
The text is merely the reproduction of the original text,
it is not always complete; all the imperial constitutions, for
example, are not inserted in the Breviarium ; but those
which it did reproduce are not mutilated. There the ancient
law appears in all its purity, independent of the changes'
which the fall of the Empire must have introduced into it.
The Interpretation, on the contrary, digested in the time of
Alaric by civil or ecclesiastical jurisconsults, whom he had
charged with this work, takes cognizance of all these changes;
it explains, modifies, and sometimes positively alters the text,
1 In the preceding lecture it is said that Alaric caused the laws of his
Romnn subjects to be collected and published under the name of Brevia
rium. This is an oversight.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 9
in order to adapt it to the new state of the government and of
society; it is, therefore, for the study of the institutions and
Roman laws of this epoch, more important and curious than the
text itself. The mere existence of such a work is the most
clear and conclusive proof of the perpetuity of Roman law.
One need, indeed, scarcely open it. Should we open it,
however, we shall everywhere find the trace of the Roman
society, of its institutions and magistrates, as well as of its civil
legislation. The municipal system occupies an important
place in the Interpretation of the Breviarium; the curia and its
magistrates, the duumvirs, the defensores, &c, recur at every
step, and attest that the Roman municipality still subsisted
and acted. And not only did it subsist, but it acquired more
importance and independence. At the fall of the Empire,
the governors of the Roman provinces, the presides, the con-
sulares, the correctores, disappeared; in their place we find
the barbarian counts. But ah the attributes of the Roman
governors did not pass to the counts; they made a kind of par
tition of them ; some belonged to the counts; and these, in
general, were those in which the central power was interested,
such as the levying of taxes, men, &c. ; the others, those which
only concerned the private life of the citizens, passed to the
curias and the municipal magistrates. I have not cared to
enumerate all these changes; but here are some examples
drawn from the Interpretation.
1st. That which was formerly done by the praetor (alibi
the president) shall now be executed by the judges of the
city. — Interp. Paul, 1, 7, § 2; Int. C. Th. xi. 4,2.
2nd. Emancipation, which has usually been done before the
president, must now be done before the curia. — Gaius, 1, 6.
3rd. Guardians were nominated at Constantinople by the
prefect of the town, ten senators, and the prastor. The Inter
pretation puts in their place " the first of the city with the
judge" (probably the duumvir). — Int. C. Th. iii. 17, 3.
4th. Wills must be opened in the curia. — Interp. C. Th.
iv. 4, 4.
Cases of this kind are numerous, and do not allow of a
doubt, but that, so far from perishing with the Empire, the
municipal system acquired after the invasion, at least in
Southern Gaul, more extension and liberty.
A second considerable change is also visible. In the an

10 HISTORY OF
cient Roman municipality, the superior magistrates, the dw
umvir, the quinquennalis, &c, exercised their j urisdiction as
a personal right, not by any means by way of delegation, or
in quality of representatives of the curia; it was to them
selves, not to the municipal body, that the power apper-
tained. The principle of the municipal system was more
aristoeratical than democratical. Such was the resuh of the
ancient Roman manners, and especially of the primitive
amalgamation of the religious and pohtical powers in the
superior magistrates.
In the Breviarium. the aspect of the municipal system
changes; it was no longer in its own name, it was in the
nameand as the delegate of the curias that the defensor exer
cised his power. The jurisdiction belonged to the curia in a
body. The principle of its organization became democratical;
and already -the transformation was in preparation, which
was to make of the Roman municipality the corporation oi
the middle ages.
These are the principal results of M. de Savigny's work,
with regard to the permanence of Roman law under the Visi
goths. °I hardly know whether he has measured its whole
extent and all its consequences in the history of modern
society, but he has certainly caught glimpses of it; and in
general his ideas are as precise as his learning is correct
and extensive. Of all German savans who have occupied
themselves on this subject, he is certainly the most exempt
from all German prejudices, who least allows himself to
be carried away by the desire to enlarge upon the power of
the ancient German institutions and manners in modern civi
lization, and who makes the Roman element constitute the
better part. Sometimes, however, the prepossession of the
national spirit, if I may so express myself, has still deceived
him, and of this I will cite a single example. He says at
the end of the chapter upon the municipal system under the
Visigoths: —
" The text of the Code orders that at Rome, in order to
pronounce upon a criminal accusation against a senator, five
senators be appointed by lot: the Interpretation renders this
rule general, and requires five of the principal citizen's, of th
same rank as the accused, that is to say, decurions or plebeians)

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 11
according to the condition qf the accused himself . . . . May we
not here conjecture, the influence of the German Scabini?'1
Thus M. de Savigny supposes that, according to the Inter
pretation of the Breviarium, the judges drawn by lot, in
criminal matters, were, under the Visigoths in the sixth
century, to be of the same condition as the accused, that every
man was to be judged by his peers; for it is thus that they
commonly digest the principle of the institution of the jury,
according to German manners. Here is- the Latin sentence
upon whioh this induction is founded.
" Cum pro objecto crimine, aliquis audiendus est, quinque
nobilissimi viri judices, de reliquis sibi similibus, missis sorttbus
eligantur."2 That is to say:
" If any one be cited to appear on accusation of crime,
let five nobles be appointed by lot, from among co-equals, to
be judges."
These words, de reliquis sibi similibus, evidently signify
that the five judges shall be drawn by lot from the same class,
and not from the class of the accused. There is, therefore,
no trace in it of the idea that the judges must be of the same
rank and condition of the accused. The words nobilissimi
viri might have convinced M. de Savigny, and prevented his
error: how, indeed, can they apply to plebeian judges?
Let us pass from the Visigoths to the Burgundians, and
see what was the state of the Roman legislation at the same
epoch, among the latter.
The preface to their law contains, as you will recollect,
this sentence:
"We order that Romans be judged according to Roman
laws, as was done by our ancestors, and that they receive in
writing the form and tenour of the laws according to which
they shall be judged, to the end that no person can excuse
himself upon the score of ignorance."
The Burgundian Sigismond, therefore, intended to do in
517, what Alaric, the Visigoth, had done eleven years before,
to collect the Roman laws for his Roman subjects.
In 1566, Cujas found in a manuscript a law work which he
published under the title of Papiani Responsum, or Liber
1 Vol. i. p. 265. 2 Interp. Cod. Th. xi. 1. 12.

12 HISTORY OF
Responsorum, and which has always since borne that name.
It is divided into 47 or 48 titles, and offers the following
ell 3,F0.CtCl"l StlCS C
1st. The order and heading of the titles corresponds almost
exactly with those of the barbaric law of the Burgundians;
title II. de homicidiis, to title II. de homicidiis ; title III. de
libertatibus, to title III. de libertatibus servorum nostrorum,
and so on. M. de Savigny has drawn up a comparative
view of the two laws,1 and the correlativeness is evident.
2nd. We read in title II. of this work, de homicidiis :
" And as it is very clear that the Roman law has regulated
nothing concerning the value of men killed, our lord has
ordered that according to the quality of the slave, the mur
derer shall pay to his master the following sums, namely:
For an intendant  100 solidi.
For a personal servant  60
For a labourer or swineherd  30
For a good gold- worker  100
For a smith  50
For a carpenter  40
This must be observed according to the order of the king."
The enumeration and the composition, under the correspond
ing title, are the same in the law of the Burgundians.
3rd. Lastly, two titles of the first supplement of this law
(tit. I. and XIX.) are textually borrowed from the Papiani
Responsum, published by Cujas.
It is evident that this work is no other than the law pro
claimed by Sigismond to his Roman subjects, at the time that
he published the law of his barbaric subjects.
Whence comes the title of this law? Why is it called
Papiani Responsum ? Is it, in fact, a repetition of a work
of Papinianus, often called Papian by the manuscripts^
Nothing is less probable. M. de Savigny has very inge
niously resolved this question. He conjectures that Cujas
found the manuscript of the Roman law of the Burgundians
at the end of a manuscript of the Breviarium of Alaric,
without marking the separation of the two works; and that
the Breviarium finishing by a passage of the Liber Respon
sorum of Papinianus, Cujas has inadvertently ascribed this
» Vol. ii. pp. 13— 1G.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 13
passage and given this title to the work following. The
examination of many manuscripts confirms this conjecture,
and Cujas himself was doubtful of error.
As the Breviarium of Alaric preceded the law of the
Roman Burgundians by only a few years, some people have
supposed the latter to be merely an abstract of it. This is an
error. Much more brief and incomplete than the Breviarium,
the Papiani Responsum, since it keeps that name, has still,
more than once, drawn from the sources of the Roman law,
and furnishes upon this point many important indications.
It probably fell into disuse when the kingdom of the Bur
gundians fell under the yoke of the Franks. Everything
indicates that the Breviarium of Alaric, more extensive and
better satisfying to the various wants of civil life, progres
sively replaced it, and became the law of the Romans in all
the countries of Gaul that the BurgundianSj as well as the
Visigoths, had possessed.
The Franks remain to be considered. When they had con
quered, or almost conquered the whole of Gaul, the Breviarium,
and, for some time also, the Papian, continued in vigour in the
countries where they had formerly prevailed. But in the north
and north-east of Gaul, in the first settlements of the Franks,
the situation was different. We there find nothing of a
new Roman code, no attempt to collect and digest the Roman
law for the ancient inhabitants. It is certain, however,
that it continued to rule them; here are the principal facts
which do not admit of a doubt of this. »
1st. The Salic and Ripuarian laws continually repeat that
the Romans shall be judged according to the Roman law.
Many decrees of the Frank kings — among others, a decree of
Clotaire L, in 560, and one of Childebert IL, in 595, renew
this injunction, and borrow from the Roman law some of its
provisions. The legislative monuments of the Franks, there
fore, attest its perpetuity.
2nd. A different kind of monuments, no less authentic,
likewise prove it. Many of you know the formulas, or
models of forms, according to which, from the sixth to the
tenth century, the principal acts of civil life, wills, be
quests, enfranchisements, sales, &c, were drawn up. The
principal collection of formulas is that published by Marculf
the monk, towards the end, as it seems, of the eighth century.

14 HISTORY OF
Many men of learning — Mabillon, Bignon, Sirmond, and
Lindenbrog — have recovered others of them from old manu
scripts. A large number of these formulas reproduced, in the
same terms, the ancient forms of Roman law concerning the
enfranchisement of slaves, bequests, testaments, prescriptions,
&c, and thus prove that it was still of habitual application.
3rd. All the monuments of this epoch, in the countries
occupied by the Franks, are full of the names of the Roman
municipal system — duumvirs, advocates, curia, and curial,
and present these institutions as always in vigour.
4th. Many civil acts, in fact, exist, testaments, bequests,
sales, &c, wliich passed according to the Roman law in the
curia, and were so inscribed upon the registers.
5th. Lastly, the chroniclers of the time often speak of men
versed in the knowledge of the Roman law, and who make
an attentive study of it. In the sixth century, the Auvergnat
Andarchius " was very learned in the works of Virgil, the
books of the Theodosian law, and in the art of calculation."1
At the end of the seventh century, Saint Bonet, bishop of
Clermont, "was imbued with the principles of the grammarians,
and learned in the decrees of Theodosius."2 Saint Didier,
bishop of Cahors, from 629 to 654, " applied himself," says
his life in manuscript, "to the study of the Roman laws."
Of. a surety there were then no erudits ; there was then
no Academie des Inscriptions, and people did not study the
Roman law for mere curiosity. There can, then, be no reason for
doubting that among the Franks, as well as among the Bur
gundians and Visigoths, it continued in vigour, particularly
in the civil legislation and in the municipal system. Those
among you who would seek the proofs in detail, the original
texts upon which the results which I have just stated are
founded, will find a large number of them in the work of M.
de Savigny, (vol. i. p. 267—273; vol. ii., p. 100—118.) and
still more in the Histoire du Regime Municipal de France,
published by M. Raynouard — a work replete with curious
researches, researches so complete upon certain questions
that, in truth, one might almost tax them with superfluity.
You see the fact wliich I proposed to bring forward
is indubitable. Monuments of all kinds show it, doubtless in
' Gicff. of Tours, 1. I c. IT. • Ada sane Jititna, c. 1, No 3

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 15
unequal degrees among different nations, but everywhere real
and permanent. Its importance is great, because it proclaimed
to Gaul a social state entirely different from that in which it
had hitherto Uved. It was hardly more than five centuries since
it had fallen beneath the power of the Romans, and already
scarcely a trace of the ancient Gaulish society remained.
Roman civilization had the terrible power of extirpating the
national laws, manners, language, and religion — of fully assi
milating its conquests to itself. All absolute expressions are
exaggerated; still, in considering things in general at the
sixth century, we may say, everything in Gaul was Roman.
The contrary fact accompanies barbaric conquest: the Germans
leave to the conquered population their laws, local institutions,
language, and religion. An invincible unity followed in the
steps of the Romans: here, on the contrary, diversity was
established by the consent and aid of the conquerors. We have
seen that the empire of personality and individual indepen
dence, the. characteristic of modern civilization, was of Ger
man origin; we here find its influence; the idea of personality
presided in laws as in actions; the individuality of peoples,
while subject to the same poUtical domination, was proclaimed
Uke that of man. Centuries must pass before the notion of
territory can overcome that of race, before personal legisla
tion can become real, and before a new national unity can
result from the slow and laborious fusion of ths various
elements. This granted, and the perpetuity of Roman legislation
being established, still do not let this word deceive you:
there is in it a great deal that is illusory; because it has
been seen that the Roman law continued, because the same
names and forms have been met with, it has been concluded
that the principles, that the spirit of the laws had also re
mained the same: the Roman law of the tenth century has
been spoken of as that of the Empire. This is erroneous
language; when Alaric and Sigismond ordered a new collec
tion of the Roman laws for the use of their Roman subjects,
they did exactly what had elsewhere been done by Theodoric
and Dagobert, in causing the barbaric laws to be digested for
their Frank subjects. As the Salic and Ripuarian laws set
forth ancient customs, already ill suited to the new state of the
German people, so the Breviarium of Alaric, and the Pa-

Ip HISTORY OP
piani Responsum collected laws already old, and partly inap
plicable. By the fall of the Empire and by the invasion, the
whole social order was entirely changed; the relations between
men were different, and another system of property com
menced; the Roman political institutions could not subsist;
facts of all sorts were renewed over the whole face of the
land. And what laws were given to this rising society, so
disordered and yet so fertile? Two ancient laws: the ancient
barbarous customs and the ancient Roman legislation. It
is evident that neither could be suitable; both must be
modified, must be profoundly metamorphosed, in order to be
adapted to the new facts.
When, therefore, we say that at the sixth century the
Roman law still lasted, and that the barbarous laws were
written ; when we find in posterior centuries always the same
words, Roman law, and barbaric laws, it must not be supposed I
that the same laws are spoken of. In perpetuating itself, the
Roman law altered; after having been written, the barbaric
laws were perverted. Both are among the number of the
essential elements of modern society; but as elements entering
into a new combination, which will arise after a long fer
mentation, and in the breast of which they will only appear
transformed. It is this successive transformation that I shall attempt to
present to you; historians do not speak of it; unvarying
phrases hide it; it is an internal work, a profoundly secret
spectacle; and at which one can only arrive by piercing many|
inclosures and guarding against the iUusion caused by the'
similitude of forms and names.
We now find ourselves at the end of our researches con
cerning the state of civil society in Gaul from the sixth to
the middle of the eighth century. In our next lecture, we
shall study the changes which happened in the religious
society at the same epoch, that is to say, the state and con
stitution of the church.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

TWELFTH LECTURE.

Object of the lecture — State of the church in Gaul, from the sixth to the
middle of the eighth century — Analogy between the primitive state of the
religious society and the civil society — The unity of the church or the
spiritual society — Two elements or conditions of spiritual soeiety; 1st.
Unity of truth, that is to say, of absolute reason; 2nd. Liberty of minds,
or individual reason — State of these two ideas in the Christian church
from the sixth to the eighth century — She adopts one and rejects the
other — Unity of the church in legislation — General councils — Dif
ference between the eastern and the western church as regards the perse
cution of heretics — Relations of the church with the state, from the sixth
tothe eighth century; 1st, in the eastern empire; 2nd, in the west,
especially in Frankish Gaul — Interference of the temporal power in the
affairs of the church — Of the spiritual power in the affairs of the state —
Recapitulation.
We re-enter a route over which we have already gone; we
again take up a thread which we have once held: we have
to occupy ourselves with the history of the Christian church
in Gaul, from the completion of the invasion to the fall of the
Merovingian kings, that is to say, from the sixth to the middle
)f the eighth century.
The determination of this epoch is not arbitrary; the acces
sion of the Carlovingian kings marked a crisis in religious
society as well as in civil society. It is a date which consti
tutes an era, and at which it is advisable to pause.
Recal the picture which I have traced of the state of the
•eUgious society in Gaul, before the decisive fall of the Roman
empire, that is to say, at the end of the fourth and the begui
ling of the fifth century. We have considered the church
mder two points of view: 1st, in her external situation, in
VOL. II. c

18 HISTORY (IF
her relations with the state; 2nd, in her internal constitution,
in her social and political organization. Around these two
fundamental problems we have seen that aU the particular
questions, all the facts collect.
This two-fold examination has enabled us to see, in the
first five centuries of the church, the germ of all the solutions:
of the two problems, some example of all the forms, and trials
of all the combinations. There is no system, whether in re
gard to the external relations of the church, or her internal
organization, which may not be traced to this epoch, and
there find some authority. Independence, obedience, sove
reignty, the compromises of the church with the state,
presbyterianism or episcopacy, the complete absence of the
clergy, or its almost exclusive domination, we have found
all these.
We have just examined the state of civil society after the
invasion, in the sixth and seventh centuries, and we have
arrived at the same result. There, likewise, we have found!
the germ, the example of all the systems of social organization,
and of government: monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy;
the assemblies of free men ; the patronage of the chief of the
land towards his warriors, of the great proprietor towards the
inferior proprietor, royalty, absolute and impotent, elective
and hereditary, barbarous, imperial, and religious: all the
principles, in a word, which have been developed in the life
of modern Europe, at that time simultaneously appeared!
to us.
There is a remarkable similarity in the origin and primi";
tive state of the two societies: wealth and confusion are alikel
in them; all things are there; none in its place and propor
tion; order will come with development; in being developed,
the various elements will be disengaged and distinguished;
each will display its pretensions and its own powers, first in
order to combat, and afterwards to become reconciled. Suchj
will be the progressive work of ages and of man.
It is at this work that we have hereafter to be present; we
have seen in the cradle of the two societies aU the material
elements, and all the rational principles of modern civilization;"
we are about to follow them in their struggles, negotiations,
amalgamations, and in all the vicissitudes both of their special
and their common destiny. This, properly speaking, is the

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 19
history of civilization ; we have as yet only arrived at the
theatre of this history, and named its actors.
You will not be surprised that in entering upon a new era
we should first encounter the religious society: it was, as you
are aware, the most advanced and the strongest; whether in
the Roman municipality, in the palace of the barbarous
kings, or in the hierarchy of the conquerors now become pro
prietors, we have everywhere recognised the presence and
influence of the heads of the church. From the fourth to the
thirteenth century, it was the church that took the lead in the
career of civilization. It is natural, then, that, during this
period, every time that we have made a halt, and again moved
forward, it should be with her that we recommence.
We shall study her history from the sixth to the eighth
century, under the two points of view already indicated;
1st, in her relations with the state; 2ndly, in her peculiar and
internal constitution.
But before approaching either of these questions, and the
facts which are attached thereto, I must call your attention to
a fact which dominates over all, which characterises the
Christian church in general, and has, as it were, decided her
destiny. This fact is the unity of the church, the unity of the Chris
tian society, despite all the diversities of time, place, domina
tion, language, or origin.
Singular phenomenon! It was at the very time that the
Roman empire fell to pieces and disappeared, that the Chris
tian church rallied, and definitively formed herself. Poli
tical unity perished, religious unity arose. I know not how
many nations, of various origins, manners, language, and
destiny, are thrown upon the scene; all becomes partial and
^local; every extended idea, every general institution, every
(great social combination vanishes; and at this very moment
the Christian church proclaims the unity of her doctrine,
.the universality of her right.
This is a glorious and powerful fact, and one which, from
the fifth to the thirteenth century, has rendered immense
services to humanity. The mere fact of the unity of the
church, maintained some tie between countries and nations
that everything else tended to separate; under its influence,
some general notions, some sentiments, of a vast sympathy
c2

20 HISTORY OF
continued to be developed; and from the very heart of the
most frightful political confusion that the world has ever
known, arose perhaps the most extensive and the purest idea
that has ever rallied mankind, the idea of spiritual society;
for that is the philosophical name of the church, the type
which she wished to realize.
What sense did men, at this period, attach to these
words, and what progress had they already made in this
path? What was actually, in minds and in facts, this spiri
tual society, the object of their ambition and respect? How!
was it conceived and practised? These questions must he
answered in order to know what is meant when we speak
of the unity of the church, and what ought to be thought of
its principles and results.
A common conviction, that is to say, an identical idea,
acknowledged and received as true, is the fundamental basis,
the secret tie of human society. One may stop at the most
confined and the most simple association, or elevate oneself
to the most complicated and extensive; we may examine
what passes between three or four barbarians united for a
hunting expedition, or in the midst of an assembly convoked
to treat of the affairs of a great nation; everywhere, and
under all circumstances, it is in the adhesion of individuals to
the same thought, that the fact of association essentially
consists: so long as they do not comprehend one another|
they are mere isolated beings, placed by the side of one
another, but not holding together. A similar sentiment
and doctrine, whatever may be its nature or object, is the
first condition of the social state; it is in the midst of
truth only, or in what they take for truth, that men become
united, and that society takes birth. And in this sense, a
modern philosopher1 was right in saying that there is no
society except between intellects; that society only subsist!
upon points and within limits, where the union of intellects is
accomplished; that where intellects have nothing in common,
there is no society; in other words, that intellectual society is
the only society, the necessary clement, and, as it were, the
foundation of all external and visible associations.
Now, the essential element of truth, and precisely what is,
in fact, the social tie, par excellence, is unity. Truth is one*
¦ ' M. l'Abbe de Lamennais.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 21
therefore the men who have acknowledged and accepted it
are united; a union which has in it nothing accidental nor
arbitrary, for truth neither depends upon the accidents of
things, nor upon the uncertainties of men; nothing transitory,
for truth is eternal; nothing confined, for truth is complete
and infinite. As of truth, unity then will be the essential
characteristic of the society which shall have truth alone for
its object, that is to say, of the purely religious society. There
is not, there cannot be, two spiritual societies; it is, from its
nature, sole and universal.
Thus did the church take birth: hence that unity which
she proclaims as her principle, that universality which has
always been her ambition. In degrees more or less evident,
and more or less strict, it is the idea which rests at the bottom
of all her doctrines, which hovers over all her works. Long
before the sixth century, from the very cradle of Christianity,
it appears in the writings and acts of its most illustrious
interpreters. But unity of truth in itself is not sufficient for the rise and
subsistence of the religious society; it is necessary that it
should be evident to minds, and that it should rally them.
Union of minds, that is to say, spiritual society, is the conse
quence of the unity of truth; but so long as this union is not
accomplished, the principle wants its consequence, spiritual
society does not exist. Now, upon what condition do minds
unite themselves in truth? Upon this condition, that they
acknowledge and accept its empire: whoever obeys truth with
out knowing it, from ignorance and not from light, or who
ever, having knowledge of the truth, refuses to obey it, is
not part of the spiritual society; none form a part of it if
they do not see nor wish it; it excludes, on one side, igno
rance, and on the other, constraint; it exacts from all its
members an intimate and personal adhesion of intellect and
liberty. Now, at the epoch upon which we are occupied, this second
principle, this second characteristic of spiritual society, was
wanting to the church. It would be unjust to say that it
was absolutely unknown to her, and that she believed that
spiritual society could exist between men without the consent
of their intellect or liberty. Thus put in its simple and
naked form, this idea is offensive and necessarily repulse-

22 HISTORY OF
besides, the full and vigorous exercise of reason and will was
too recent and still too frequent in the church, for her to fall
into so entire an oblivion. She did not affirm that truth had
a right to employ constraint; on the contrary, she incessantly
repeated that spiritual arms were the only arms of which
she could and ought to avail herself. But this principle, if I
may so express myself, was only upon the surface of minds,
and evaporated from day to day. The idea that truth, one
and universal, had a right to pursue by force the conse
quences of its unity and universality, became from day to day
the dominant, active, and efficacious idea. Of the two con
ditions of spiritual society, the rational unity of doctrine,
and the actual unity of minds, the first almost solely occu
pied the church; the second was incessantly forgotten or
violated. Many centuries were necessary in order to give to it its
place and power, that is to say, to bring out the true nature
of spiritual society, its complete nature, and the harmony of
its elements. It was long the general error to believe that
the empire of truth — that is, of universal reason— could be
established without the free exercise of individual reason,
without respect to its right. Thus they misunderstood spiritual
society, even in announcing it; they exposed it to the risk of
being but a lying illusion. The employment of force does far
more than stain it, it kills it; in order that its unity may be,
not only pure, but real, it is necessary that it shine forth in
ilie midst of the development of all intellects and all liberties;
It will be the honour of our times to have penetrated into
the essence of spiritual society much further than the world
has ever yet done, to have much more completely known and
asserted it. We now know that it has two conditions: 1st,
the presence of a general and absolute truth, a rule of
doctrines and human action ; 2nd, the fuU development of all
intellects, in face of this truth, and the free adhesion of souls
to its power. Let not one of these conditions ever allow
us to forget the other; let not the idea of the liberty of
minds weaken in us that of the unity of spiritual society:
\ecause individual convictions should be clear and free, let;
SS not be tempted to believe that there is no universal truth
which has aright to command; in respecting the reason of
each, do not lose sight of the one and sovereign reason

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 23
The history of human society has hitherto passed alternately
from one to the other of these dispositions. At certain epochs
men have been peculiarly struck with the nature and rights of
this universal and absolute truth, the legitimate master to
whose reign they aspired: they flattered themselves that at
last they had encountered and possessed it, and in their foolish
confidence they accorded to it the absolute power which soon
and inevitably engendered tyranny. After having long sub
mitted to and respected it, man recognised it; he saw the
name and rights of truth usurped by ignorant or perverse
force; then he was more irritated with the idols than occupied
with God himself; the unity of divine reason, if I may be per
mitted to use the expression, was no longer the object of
his habitual contemplation; he above all thought upon the
right of human reason in the relations of men, and often
finished by forgetting that, if it is free, the will is not arbitrary;
that if there is a right of inquiry for individual reason, it is
stiU subordinate to that general reason which serves for the
measure and touchstone of all minds. And even as in the
first instance there was tyranny, so in the second there was
anarchy, that is to say, the absence of general and powerful
belief, the absence of principles in the soul, and of union in
society. One may hope that our time is caUed to avoid each of
these sand-banks, for it is, if I may so speak, in possession of
the chart which points them both out. The development
of civilization must be accomplished hereafter under the
simultaneous influence of a two-fold reverence; universal
reason will be sought as the supreme law, the final aim; in
dividual reason will be free, and. invoked to develop itself as
the best means of attaining to universal reason. And if
spiritual society be never complete and pure — the imperfec
tion of humanity will not allow it — at least its unity will
no longer run the risk of being factitious and fraudulent. You
have had a glance at the state of minds concerning this great
idea, at the epoch upon which we are occupied: let us pass to
the state of facts, and see what practical consequence had
already been produced by that unity of the church, of which
we have just described the rational characteristics.
It was seen above all in the ecclesiastical legislation, and it
was so much the more conspicuous there, from being in
contradiction to aU that passed elsewhere. We have studied

24

HISTORY OF

in our last lectures civil legislation from the fifth to the
eighth century; and diversity, which gradually increased,
has appeared to us its fundamental trait. The tendency of
religious society is very different; it aspired to a unity in
laws, and attained it. And it is not that she exclusively
drew her laws from the primitive monuments of religion,
from the sacred books, always and everywhere the same:
in proportion as she was developed, new desires were mani
fested, new laws were necessary, or a new legislator. Who
should it be? The east was separated from the west, the
west was daily parcelled out intu distinct and independent
states. Should there be, for the church thus dispersed, many
legislators? Shall the councils of Gaul, Spain, or Italy, give
them religious laws? No; there shall be an universal and sole
legislation for the whole church, superior to all the diversities
of national churches and councils, and to all the differences
which are necessarily introduced into discipUne, worship, and
usages. The decrees of the general councils shall everywhere
be obligatory and accepted. From the fourth to the eighth
century there were six oecumenical or general councils; they
were all held in the east, by the bishops of the east, and under
the influence of the eastern emperors; there were scarcely
any bishops from the west among them.1 Yet, despite so
many causes for misunderstanding and separation, despite
the diversity of languages, governments, and manners, and
moreover, despite the rivalry of the patriarchs of Rome,
Constantinople, and Alexandria, the legislation of the general
councils was everywhere adopted ; the west and the east
1 Table of the General Councils from the Fourth to the Eighth Century.

Date.

Place.

Present.

Eastern.

Western.

Zio

Nicea . . .

318

315

3

381

Constantinople .

150

140

1

431

Ephesus .

68

67

1

4S1

Chalcedonia .

353

350

3

553

Constantinople

104

158

6

680

Constantinople .

50

51

5

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

25

alike yielded to it; a few only of the decrees of the fifth
council were for a moment contested. So powerful already
was the idea of unity in the church; such was the spiritual
tie dominating all things!
With regard to the second principle of spiritual society,
liberty of minds, some distinction must be made between the
east and the west; the state of facts was not the same in
them. In setting forth the state of the church in the fourth and
fifth centuries, I have made you acquainted with the dispo
sition of the legislation, and of minds generally, with regard
to heresy. The principle of persecution, ycu will recollect,
was neither clearly established, nor constantly dominant ;
still it gradually prevailed; in spite of the generous protesta
tions of some bishops, in spite of the variety of cases, the
laws of Theodosius, the persecution of the Arinns, the
Donatists, the Pelagians, and the punishment of the Pris-
ciUianists, do not admit a doubt of this.
Dating from the sixth century, and in the Empire of the
east, the true successor and continuator of the Roman empire,
events and ideas followed the same course; the principle of
persecution was developed; the history of the Monophysites,
and Monothelites, that of cany other heresies, and the legis
lation of Justinian, give proof of this.
In the west, the invasion and all its consequences for
some time delayed its progress; almost all intellectual move
ment came to a stand still. Amidst the incessant confu- ¦
sion of life, what room could be left for contemplation
and study ? Heresies were rare ; the contest continued
between the Arians and the orthodox; but we see but few
new doctrines arise, and those which attempted to introduce
themselves were scarcely anything more than a weak echo
of the heresies of the east. Persecution, therefore, so to
speak, wanted matter and occasion. Besides, the bishops did
not in any way provoke it; more pressing affairs occupied
them; the situation of the church was perilous; she not only
was under the necessity of occupying herself about her
temporal interests, but her safety, her very existence, was in
danger; they cared little for minor varieties of opinion. Fifty-
four councils were held in Gaul in the sixth century; two
only, that of Orange and th<*t of Valencia, in 529, occupied

26 HISTORY OF
themselves with dogmas; they condemned the heresy of the
semi-Pelagians, which the fifth century had bequeathed to
them. .
Lastly, the barbaric kings, the new masters of the soil,
took but little interest, and rarely any part in such debates.
The emperors of the east were theologians as well as bishops;
they had been born and bred in theology; they had per
sonal and fixed opinions concerning its problems and quar
rels. Justinian and HeracUus wilhngly engaged upon their
own account in the suppression of heresy. Unless impelled
by some powerful political motive, neither Gondebald, Chil-
piric, nor Gontran, troubled themselves in the matter. Nu
merous actions and words have come down to us of the
Burgundian, Gothic, and Frank kings, which prove how little
they were disposed to exert their power in such causes. " We
cannot command religion," said Theodoric, king of the
Ostrogoths; " no one can be forced to believe, in spite of
himself."1 ... " Since the Deity suffers various religions,"
said king Theodobat, " we dare not prescribe a single one.
We remember having read that God must be sacrificed to
willingly, and not under the constraint of a master. Those,
therefore, who attempt to do otherwise, evidently oppose
themselves to the divine commands." 2
Doubtless, Cassiodorus here lends to the two Gothic kings
the superiority of his reason; but they adopted his language;
aad in many other cases, whether it be ignorance or good
sense, we find the barbaric princes manifesting the same dis
position. In fact, therefore, from the concurrence of various causes,
the second condition of spiritual society, liberty of minds, was
at this epoch less violated, in the west than in the east. It
is necessary, however, not to be mistaken in this matter; it
was but an accident, the temporary effect of external circum
stances; at bottom, the principle was equally overlooked, and
the general course of things tended equaUy to bring about
the prevalence of persecution.
You see, that, in spite of some differences, the unity of
the church, with all the consequences attached thereto, was
everywhere the dominant fact, alike in the west and in
¦ Cassiod. Variar. Ep. 1. xi. ep. 27. 2 Ibid, 1. x. ep, 26

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 27
the east, alike in the social state and in minds generally. That
was the principle which, in religious society, presided over
opinions, laws, and actions, the point from which they always
started, the end to which they incessantly tended. From the
fourth century, this idea was, as it were, the star under whose
influence religious society was developed in Europe, and which
it is necessary to keep always in view in order to follow and
to comprehend the vicissitudes of its destiny.
This point agreed upon and the characteristic fact of this
epoch being well established, let us enter upon the particular
examination of the state of the church, and seek what were:
first, ber relations with civil society and its government;
secondly, her peculiar and internal. organization.
I would pray you to recal what I said when speaking
of the church in the fifth century: it appeared to us that
her relations with the state might be determined into four
different systems: 1st, the complete independence of the
church; the unnoticed and unknown church, receiving neither
law nor support from the state: 2ndly, the sovereignty of
the state over the church; religious society governed, if not
completely, at least in its principal elements, by the civil
power; 3rdly, the sovereignty of the church over the state;
the temporal government, if not directly possessed, at least
completely dominated by the spiritual power; 4thly, and
lastly, the co-existence of the two societies, the two powers,
which though separate were allied by certain various
and variable conditions, .which united without confounding
them. We at the same time recognised that in the fifth cen
tury this latter system prevailed; that the Christian church
and the Roman empire both existed, as two distinct societies,
each having its government and laws, but adopting and
mutuaUy sustaining each other. In the midst of their alliance
we discovered traces still visible of another principle, of an
anterior state, the sovereignty of the state over the church, the
intervention and decided preponderance of the emperors in
her administration; lastly, but only in the distance, we caught
a glimpse of the sovereignty of the church over the state, the
domination over the temporal government by the spiritual
power. v
Sucb appeared to us, in its whole, the situation of the

2?S HISTORY OF
Christian church of the fifth century in her relations with tho
state. In the sixth century, if we regard the eastern empire,
over which it is always necessary to extend our view in order
to comprehend properly what happened in. the west, and the
changes which the barbaric invasion brought about in the
course of things, we shaU be struck by two simultaneous facts:
1st. The clergy, especially the episcopacy, unceasingly
procured from the emperors new favours and privileges.
Justinian gave to the bishops: 1st, the civil jurisdiction over
monks and nuns, the same as over clerks;1 2nd, the inspec
tion of property in cities, and the preponderance in aU muni
cipal administration;2 3rd, the enfranchisement from patafziai
power;3 4th, he forbad the judges calling them &= witnesses,
and demanding an oath of them.4 Herodius granted them the
criminal jurisdicti:, a over clerks.8 The influence and immu
nities of religious society in civil society were ever increasing.
2nd. The emperors, however, mixed themselves more and
more in the affairs of the church; not only in her relations
with the state, but in her internal affairs, constitution, and
discipline. And not only did they meddle with her govern
ment, but they interfered in her creeds; they gave decrees in
favour of such or such a dogma, they regulated the faith.
Upon the whole, the authority of the eastern emperors over
religious society was more general, active, frequent, despotic,
than it had ever been hitherto; despite the progress of her
privileges, the situation of the church with regard to the civil
power was weak, inferior, and fallen off from what it was in
the ancierit Empire.
Two contemporaneous texts will prevent your doubting
this. In the middle of the sixth century, the Franks sent an em
bassy to Constantinople; the clergy of Italy wrote to the
Frank envoys to give them, as to the empire of the east,
Buch information as they believed might be beneficial to tho
success of their mission:
" The Greek bishops," it said to them," have great and opulent
churches, and they cannot bear being suspended two months
i Nov. Justin. 79, 83 ; a.d. 539. 2 Cod. Justin, i. tit. iv. 1. 26.
* Nov. 81. * Nov. 123, c. 7.
• Gieseler, Lehrbuch der Kirchengeschichte, t. i. p. 602.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 29
from the government of ecclesiastical affairs; so, accommo
dating themselves to the age, and to the will of princes, they
consent without contest to all that is demanded of them."1
The next is a document which speaks still more emphatically.
. Maurice, emperor of the east, (582 — 602,) had interdicted all
persons occupied in civU functions from becoming clerks or
entering a monastery; he had sent this law to Rome, to pope
Gregory the Great, in order that he might spread it in the west.
Rome was only held to the Greek empire by a feeble tie;
Gregory had not in reality anything to fear from the emperor;
he was ardent and proud; the decree of Maurice offended him;
he wished to mark his disapprobation, perhaps even attempt
some resistance; he thus terminated his letter:
" I, who say these things to my lords, what am I, but dust
or an earth-worm? Still, as I think that this law goes against
God, the author of all things, I cannot conceal this thought from
my lords; and see what Christ answers to it, in saying to you,
through me, the last of his servants and yours : ' From secretary
I have made thee count of the guards, from count of the
guards, Csesar, from Cassar, emperor, and not only emperor;
but also father of an emperor; I have confided my priests to
thy hands and thou withdrawest thy soldiers from my service.'
I pray thee, most pious lord, say, to thy servant, what wilt thou
answer at the day of judgment to thy God, who wiU come and
say these things to thee?
"As for me, submitting to thy order, I have sent this law
to the various countries of the earth, and I have said to my
serene lords, in this paper, whereon I have deposited my re
flections, that this law goes against that of the all-powerful
God; I have therefore fulfilled my duty upon each side; I
have rendered obedience to Csesar, and I have not been silent
as to what appeared to me against God."2
Of a surety, from such a man, in such a situation, and with
such a design, the tone of this letter is singularly mild and
modest. Some centuries later, Gregory would have used a
very different language towards even the nearest and most
redoubtable sovereign. The language which he adopts here,
can have no other cause than the habits of subordination and
1 Mansi. Cone. t. ix. p. 158.
2 Greg. M. Epist., 1. iii. ep. 05, to the emperor Maurice.

30 HISTORY OF
dependence of the church towards the eastern emperors,
amidst the continual extension of her immunities.
The church of the west, after the invasion and under the
barbaric kings, offers a different spectacle. Her new masters
mixed themselves in no manner with her dogmas; they left her,
in matters of faith, to act and govern herself as she pleased.
They interfered almost as little in her discipline, properly so
called, in the relations of the clergy among themselves. But
in all wliich concerned the relations between the religious and
civil societies, in all that could interest temporal power, the
church lost independence and privilege; she was less free, and
not treated so well as under the Roman emperors. 1st. You
have seen that before the fall of the Empire, the bishops were
elected by the clergy and the people. The emperor only in
terfered in rare cases, in the election for the most consider
able towns. It was no longer so in Gaul after the establish
ment of the barbaric monarchies. The churches were wealthy;
the barbaric kings made them a means of recompensing their
servants and%nriching themselves. In numerous instances,
they directly nominated the bishops. The church protested;
she claimed the election; she did not always succeed therein;
many bishops were retained in the sees where they had
been placed by the kings alone. Still the fact was not
changed into a matter of right, and continued to pass for
an abuse. The kings themselves admit this on many occa
sions. The church, by degrees, regained the election; but
she also gave way in her turn; she granted that after the
election the confirmation of the king was necessary. The
bishop, who formerly took possession of his see, from the
time that he was consecrated by the archbishop, now ascended
not his throne until after obtaining the sanction of royalty.
Such is not only the fact, but the religious and civil law.
" Let no person be permitted," orders the council of Orleans
in 549, "to acquire a see by means of money; but -with the
consent of the king, let him who shall have been elected by
the clergy and the people, be consecrated bishop by the arch
bishop and his suffragans."
"Upon the death of a bishop," says Clotaire IL, in 615,
" he who is to be ordained in his place by the archbishop and
his suffragans, shall be elected by the clergy and the people
and ordained by the order of the prince."

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 31
The contest between election and royal nomination was
often reproduced; but in every case the necessity of confir
mation was acknowledged.
2nd. As under the Roman empire, councils could not be
convoked but with the consent of the prince, and he threat
ened the bishops when they attempted to evade it. " We have
learnt from public report," wrote king Sigbert to Didier,
bishop of Cahors, in the seventh century, " that you have been
convoked by . . . the bishop of Vulfoleud, to hold a council
in our kingdom, the 1st of September . . . with the others
. . . bishops of your province . . . Although we desire to main
tain the observance of the canons and ecclesiastical rules, as
they were preserved by our ancestors, still, because we have
not been made acquainted with the convocation of this assem
bly, we have agreed, with our great men, not to suffer this
council to be held without our knowledge in our states; and that
no bishops of our kingdom shall assemble at the approach
ing calends of September. In future, if we have timely inti
mation of the object of a council, whether it meets in order
to regulate the discipline of the church, or for the good of the
state, or for other affairs, we shall not refuse our consent to
its meeting; provided, however, that information is first given
us of it. The reason we write you this letter is, to forbid
your attending this assembly." The monuments, the very
acts of thirteen councils assembled in the sixth and seventh
centuries, formally express that they were convoked by the
order, and held with the consent of the king.1 I do not
doubt, however, hx\% in this, the fact was very often contrary
to the acknowledged right, and that a number of councils,

1 These are :

1. The council of Orleans, in 511.
2. — „ Orleans, in 533.
3. — „ Clermont, in 535.
4. — „ Orleans, in 549.
5. — „ Paris, in 556.
6. — ., Tours, in 567.
7. — „ Lyons, iu 575.
8. — „ Chalons, in 579.
9. — „ Macon, in 581.
10. — „ Valencia, in 584.
11. — „ Verdun,  ,
12. — „ Paris, in 615.
33. — „ Chalons, in 050

32 HISTORY OF
especially the mere provincial councils, met and regulated
their affairs without any authorization.
3rd. Some writers l have thought that the independence of
the church also suffered from an institution which was more
developed among the Franks than elsewhere; I mean the
chapel of the king, and the priest who had the direction of it,
under the name of Archicapellanus, Abbas regit oratbrii
Apocrisiarius. At first charged only with the exercise of
worship in the interior of the palace, this superior of the
chapel assumed gradually more importance, and became, to
speak in the language so little applicable of our own times, a
kind of minister of ecclesiastical affairs for the whole kingdom:
it is supposed these were managed almost entirely by his
intermediation, and that by his means royalty exercised a great
influence over them. It may be that this influence was real
at certain times, under such or such a king, under Charle
magne, for example; but I very much doubt that in general
and of itself, the institution was efficacious; it would serve
rather the power of the church over the king, than that of
the king in the church.
4th. There was something more real in the restrictions to
which, at this epoch, the ecclesiastical privileges were subjected.
They were numerous and important. For example, it was
forbidden any bishop to ordain a free man as priest without
the consent of the king.2 Priests were exempt from military
service; the king did not choose that free men should relieve
themselves at wiU by means of this title. The church, there
fore, at this epoch was peopled with slaves; it was especially
among her own slaves, among the serfs and labourers of her
domains, that she recruited herself; and this circumstance,
perhaps, is one of those which have not least contributed to
the efforts of the church for ameliorating the condition of the
serfs. Many priests were taken from among them; and, in
dependently of religious motives, they knew the miseries of
their situation, they bore some sympathy for those who were
plunged in it. In criminal matters, the priests in the west
had not obtained the privilege which HeracUus had granted
to those in the east; they were tried by the ordinary lay
1 Among others, M. Planck, in his History of the Constitution of
the Christian Church (in German), a work of rare science and impartiality.
See vol. ii. 147 * Council of Orleans, in 511, can. 1

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 33
judges In civil matters the clergy judged itself, but only in
cases where the cause interested simply priests; if the diffe
rence was between a -priest and a layman, the layman
was not bound to appear before the bishop; on the contrary,
he had. the priest before his judges. With regard to public
charges, there were certain churches whose domains were
exempt, and the number of these daily increased; but the
immunity was by no means general. Upon the whole, imme
diately after the invasion, in its principal relations with the
temporal power, the clergy of Frankish Gaul seemed less in
dependent, and invested with less privileges, than it was in
Roman Gaul.
But means were not wanting both to regain in time
advantages, and to assure herself of large compensations. By
not in any way interfering in dogmatical points, that is,
in the intellectual government of the church, the barbaric
kings left to her the most fertile source of power. She knew
how to draw largely upon it. In the east, the laity took part
in theology and in the influence which it conferred. In the
west, the clergy alone addressed itself to minds, and alone
was master of them. It alone spoke to the people, and alone
rallied them around certain ideas which became laws. It
was by this means especially that it re-acquired power, and
repaired the losses to which the invasion had subjected it. To
wards the end of the epoch upon which we are occupied, this
had already become visible. The church evidently recovered
from the shocks which had been given her by the disorder of
the times and the brutal avidity of the barbarians. She
made her right of asylum acknowledged and consecrated.
She acquired a kind of right of superintendence and revision
over the lay judges of an inferior order. The consequences
of her jurisdiction over all sins were developed. By wills
and marriages, she penetrated more and more into the
civil order. Ecclesiastical judges were associated with lay
judges every time a priest was concerned in the suit. Lastly,
the presence of the bishops, whether with the king, in the
assembly of great men, or in the hierarchy of proprietors,
assured them a powerful participation in the political order;
and if the sovereign power meddled in church affairs, the
church, in her turn, extended her action and power mere and
more into the affairs of the world.
VOL. II. D

34 HISTORY OF
This is the dominant character of this epoch, as regards the
reciprocal situation of the civil and religious society. The
temporal and spiritual powers approached, penetrated, and en
croached more and more upon each other. Before the inva
sion, when the Empire was still erect, although the two so
cieties were already strongly entwined with one another, still
there was a profound distinction. The independence of the
church was sufficiently complete in what directly concerned
her; and in temporal matters, although she had much in
fluence, she had hardly any direct action except upon the mu
nicipal system, and in the midst of cities. For the general
government of the state, the emperor had his machinery aU
prepared, his councils, magistrates, and armies; in a word,
the political order was complete and regular, apart from the
religious society and its government. After the invasion,
amidst the dissolution of the poUtical order, and the universal
trouble, the limits of the two governments vanished; they
lived from day to day without principles, without settled con
ditions; they encountered everywhere, clashing, confounded,
disputing the means of action, struggling together in dark
ness and by chance. Of this irregular co-existence of temporal
and spiritual power, this fantastical entanglement of their
attributes, these reciprocal usurpations, this uncertainty as
to their limits, aU this chaos of church and state, which has
played so great a part in our history, which has brought
forth so many events and theories, it is to the epoch which
now occupies us that the origin must be assigned; that only
is its most striking feature.
In our next lecture we shall occupy ourselves with the
internal organization of the church, and the changes which
happened in it during the same period.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 35

THIRTEENTH LECTURE.

Of the internal organization and state of the Gallo-Frankish church, from the
sixth to the eighth century — Characteristic facts of the Gaulish church
at the fifth century — What became of them after the invasion — The ex
clusive domination of the clergy in the religious society continues — ¦
Facts which modify it : 1. Separation of ordination and tenure ; priests
not ecclesiastics — 2. Patronage by laymen of the churches which they
founded — 3. Oratories, or particular chapels — 4. Advocates of the
churches — Picture of the general organization of the church— Parishes
and their priests — Archpriests and archdeacons — Bishops — Archbishops
— Attempts to establish the patriarchates in the west — Fall of the
archbishops — Preponderance and despotism of the episcopacy — Struggle
of the priests and parishes against the bishops — The bishops triumphant
— Despotism corrupts them — Decline of the secular clergy — Necessity
for a reformation.

We have seen what were the relations between the church
and the state, and their principal modifications, in Frankish
Gaul, from the sixth to the eighth century.. We shall now
examine the peculiar and internal organization of the church
at the same epoch; it is curious and fuU of vicissitudes.
It will be recollected that a religious society may be consti
tuted according to two principal systems. In one, the faith
ful, the laymen, asweU as the priests, take part in the govern
ment; the religious society is not under the exclusive empire
of the ecclesiastical society. In the other system, power be
longs to the clergy alone; laymen are strangers to it; it is the
ecclesiastical society which governs the religious society.
This fundamental distinction' once established, we have
seen that in each of these two great systems, totally various
modes of organization might be developed: where religious
i>2

36 HISTORY OF
society governed itself, for example, it might be — 1st, that the
local associations were united in one general church, under the
direction of one or more assemblies, where the ecclesiastics
and the laity were together; 2ndly, that there should be no
general and sole church, that each particular congregation,
each local church should govern itself; 3rdly, that there should
be no clergy, properly so called, no men invested with per
manent spiritual power; that the laity should fulfil the religious
functions. These three modes of organization have been
realized by the presbyterians, the independents, and the
quakers. If the clergy alone dominates, if the religious society is
under subjection to the ecclesiastical society, this latter maybe
monarchically, aristocraticaUy, or democraticaUy constituted
and governed, by the papal power, the episcopacy, or by assem
blies of priests, equal among themselves. The example of
these various constitutions is likewise met with in history.
In fact, in the Gaulish church of the fifth century, two of
these principles had aheady prevailed: 1st, the separation of
the religious society and the ecclesiastical society, of the
clergy and the people, was consummated; the clergy alone
governed the church — a domination, however, palliated by
some remains of the intervention of the faithful in the election
of bishops. 2ndly, in the bosom of the clergy, the aristocra-
tical system prevailed; episcopacy alone dominated; a domi
nation which was likewise palliated, on one hand by the in
tervention of the simple priests in the election of bishops, on
the other by the influence of councils, a source of Uberty in
the church, although none but bishops sat in them.
Such were the dominant facts, the characteristic features of
the GauUsh church at the time of the invasion: what did
they become after the invasion: did they remain or disappear?
to what modifications were they subjected from the sixth
to the eighth century? These are the questions which must
occupy us at present.
I. And, first, there cannot be a doubt but that the separa
tion of the clergy and the people, the exclusive domination
of the ecclesiastics over the laity, was kept up. Immediately
after the invasion, it appeared to waver for a moment; in the
common peril, the clergy and the people were brought together.
This fact is nowhere positively written and visible; but it is

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 37
seen by glimpses, it is everywhere felt : in going over the
documents of this epoch, one is struck with I know not what
new intimacy between the priests and the faithful; these
latter lived in the churches, so to speak: on numberless occa
sions, the bishop met them, spoke with them, consulted them:
the solemnity of the times, the community of sentiments and
destinies, obliged the government to establish itself in the
midst of the population; it sustained the power which pro
tected it: in sustaining it, it took part therein.
This effect was of short duration. You will recollect the
principal cause to which I have attributed the exclusive
domination of the clergy over the people. It appeared to me
especially to result from the inferiority of the people, an
inferiority of intellect, of energy, of influence. After the
invasion, this fact did not alter, it was rather aggravated.
The miseries -of the time made the Gaulish-Roman popula
tion fall still lower. The priests, on their side, when once
the conquerors were converted, no longer felt the same want
of close union with the conquered; the people, therefore, lost
the momentary importance which it seemed to have acquired.
The barbarians inherited none of it, they were in no way
capable of associating with the government of the church ;
they had not the least wish so to do; and kings were soon the
only laymen who took part in it.
Many facts, however, combated this isolation of the eccle
siastical society in the religious society, and gave influence
to the laity in default of power.
1st. The first, which, in my opinion, has been too little
marked, and which has had enduring and important con
sequences, was the separation of ordination and tonsure.
Down to the sixth century, the'tonsure took place at the time
of entering into orders; it was regarded as the sign of ordi
nation, signvm ordinis. Dating from the sixth century, we
find the tonsure conferred without any admission into orders;
instead of being signum ordinis, it was called signum destina-
tionis ad ordinem. The principle of the church had hitherto
been, tonsura ipsa est ordo, " tonsure is the order itself,"
She maintained this principle, with this explanation:
Tonsure is the order itself, but in the largest sense of thf
term, and as a preparation to the divine service. In a word
everything attests that, from that time, tonsure and ordina

38 HISTORY OF
tion were distinct; and that many men were tonsured with'
out entering into orders, became clerks without becoming
ecclesiastics.1 They wished to participate in the immunities of the
church; she received them into her ranks in the same way
as she opened her temples to the proscribed; she thereby
gained an extension of her credit and her forces. But the
religious society gained thereby, in its turn, a means of
action upon the ecclesiastical society; those who were merely
tonsured did not share completely either the interests or
the esprit-de-corps, or the life of the clergy, properly so
called; they preserved, to a certain degree, the habits and
feelings of the lay population, and introduced them into the
church. More numerous than they are generally supposed,
this class of men has played a considerable part in the
history of the middle ages. Bound to the church without
belonging to her, enjoying her privileges without faUing
under the yoke of her interests and manners, protected and
not enslaved, it was in its breast that that spirit of liberty
was developed which we shall see burst forth towards the end
of the eleventh century, and of which Abailard was then the
most illustrious interpreter. From the eighth century, it
mitigated that separation of the clergy and the people which
was the dominant characteristic of the epoch, and prevented
it from bearing all its fruit.
2ndly. A second fact concurred to the same result. From
the time that Christianity became powerful, it was, as you
know, a frequent custom to found and to endow churches. The
founder enjoyed, in the church which owed its origin to him,
certain privileges which, at first, were purely honorary; they
inscribed his name in the interior of the church, they prayed
for him, they even granted him some influence over the
choice of the priests charged with the divine offices. It
' M. Plank even says that they often gave the tonsure to chUdren ; and
he refers to the 6th canon of the 10th council of Toledo, held in 656 which
forbids its being conferred before the age of ten. But there is some con
fusion in this : this canon only concerns children brought up in monasteries
and whom the tonsure devoted to a religious life. This fact has no analog
with that which occupies us, and to the support of which M Plank invokes
it.— Hist, de la Constit. de l'Egliso Chretienne, ii. p. 13, not. 8. Labbe
Cone, t. vi, col. 463. ' ' '

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 39
happened that bishops wished to found churches beyond
their diocese, whether in their native town, in the midst
of some domain, or from some other motive. Their right
to choose the priest called to perform the duties was un
hesitatingly recognised; many councils occupied themselves
in regulating the exercise of this right, and the relations
of the bishop who founded the church with the bishop in
the diocese where the foundation was situated.
" IT a bishop," says the council of Orange, " wishes to
build a church in the territory of a city, whether for the
interest of his domains, for the benefit of the Church, or for
any other reason, after having obtained permission for this,
which cannot be denied him without crime, let him not
meddle with its consecration, which is absolutely reserved to
the bishop of the see where the new church is situated.
But this grace shall be granted to the bishop who founded it,
that the bishop of the place shaU ordain whatever priests the
founder may desire to see in his foundation; or, if they be
already ordained, the said bishop of the place shall accept
them.1 This ecclesiastical patronage soon led to a lay patronage of
the same nature. Foundations by the laity became more and
more frequent. Their conditions and forms were very
various. Sometimes the founder reserved a portion of the
revenues with which he endowed his church; he sometimes
even went so far as to stipulate that he should enter into a
participation of the offerings which the church should acquire
in addition; so that men founded and endowed churches
out of speculation, to run the chance of their fortune, and
to associate themselves in their future prosperity. The
councils took measures against this abuse, but they reco
gnised and consecrated the right of the founders, whether
laymen or ecclesiastics, to influence the choice of the official
priests. " Moved by a pious compassion," say the bishops of Spain,
met in council at Toledo, " we have decided that as long as
the founders of churches shall live they shall be permitted to
have the care of them, and they must especially make it their
1 Council of Orange, in 441, c. 20.

40 HISTORY OF
business to present, for the ordination of 'bishops, worthy
priests for these churches; if they do not propose such, then
those whom the bishop of the place shall judge pleasing to
God shall be consecrated to his worship, and, with the con
sent of the founders, shall officiate in their church. If,
in contempt of the founders, the bishop performs an ordina
tion, it shall be null, and he shall be constrained, to his
shame, i ordain for the place suitable persons chosen by the
founders."1 By this means, therefore, the laity exercised a certain
influence in the church, and took some part in her govern
ment. 3rdly. At the same time, and in proportion as the social
state became a little fixed, the custom was introduced among
the great proprietors in the country, and even in the towns,
of instituting at home, in the interior of their house, an
oratory, a chapel, and of having a priest to officiate in it.
These chaplains soon became the object of lively solicitude
on the part of the bishops. They were placed, under the
dependence of their lay patron far more than under that of
the neighbouring bishops; they were likely to participate in
the feelings of the house where they lived, and separate more
or less from the church. This was, besides, a means for
the powerful laity to procure the assistance of religion, and
of fulfilling its duties without depending wholly on the
bishop of the diocese. We accordingly find the councils of
this epoch carefully watching this non-embodied clergy, dis
seminated in the lay society, and of which they seemed to fear
sometimes the serviture, sometimes the independence.
" If any one," orders the council of Agde, " wishes to have
an oratory on his own ground, besides the parish church, we
allow that in ordinary festivals he shall there cause mass
to be said for the accommodation of his own people; but
Easter, Christmas, Epiphany, Ascension, Pentecost, the birth
of St. John the Baptist, and all the other days which should
be held as great festivals, must only be celebrated in cer
tain churches. The priests who, without the order or

1 Ninth council of Toledo, held in 655, c. 2. I shall often cite the
Spanish councils, because they have committed to writing more explicitly
and more clearly facts which took place also in Gaul

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 41
permission of the bishop, shall, on the above enumerated fes
tivals, say or hear mass in oratories, shall be excluded from
the communion."1
" If rectories," says the council of Orleans, " are established
in the houses of powerful men, and the priests who officiate
there, warned by the archdeacon of the city, neglect, in favour
of the power of the master of the house, that which, according
to the degree of their order, is their duty in the house of the
Lord, let them be corrected according to ecclesiastical dis
cipUne. And if by the agents of the lords, or by the lords
themselves, the said priests are opposed in the performance
of any ecclesiastical duty, let the authors of such iniquity
be removed from the holy ceremonies until, being amended,
they shall re-enter into the peace of the church."2
" Many of our brothers and bishops," says likewise the
council of Chalons, " have complained to the holy convocation,
upon the subject of the oratories, long since constructed in
the country houses of the great men of the state. Those to
whom these houses belong, dispute with the bishops property
which has been given to these oratories, and do not allow that
even the priests who officiate in them are under the juris
diction of the archdeacon; it is important that this should be
reformed: accordingly, let the property of the oratories, and
the priests who officiate in them, be under the power of the
bishop, in order that he may acquit himself of what is due to
these oratories and to the divine service; and if any one
oppose himself thereto, let him be excommunicated, according
to the tenour of the ancient canons."3
It was not without reason that the bishops, having an eye
to their power, looked upon this domestic clergy with so mueh
mistrust: an example of it is met with in modern times, which
shows us its effects. In England, under the reign of Charles I.,
before the breaking out of the revolution, during the struggle
between the EngUsh church and the puritan party, the
bishops drove from their cures all the ecclesiastics suspected
of puritan opinions. What was the consequence? — the
gentry, the great proprietors, who shared these opinions, took
into their bouses, under the name of chaplains, the expeUed
> Council a. Agde, in 506, c. 21. • Council of Orleans, in 541, c.26,
3 Council of Chalons, in 650, u. 14.

42 HISTORY OF
ministers. A large portion of the clergy who were suspected
by the bishops, accordingly, placed themselves under the
patronage of the lay society, and there exercised an influence
formidable to the official clergy. In vain the English church
pursued her adversaries, even into the interior of famiUes;
when tyranny is forced to penetrate so deep, it soon becomes
enervated, or hastens towards its ruin: the inferior nobiUty,
the high bourgeoisie of England, defended their chaplains
with the most persevering energy; they concealed them, they
changed them from house to house; they eluded or they braved
the episcopal anathemas. The bishops might manoeuvre,
oppress; they were no longer the only, the necessary clergy;
the population harboured in its breast a clergy foreign to the
legal church, and more and more at enmity with it. From
the sixth to the eighth century, the danger was not the same;
the bishops had to fear neither schism nor insurrection. StiU
the institution of the chaplains had an analogous effect: it
tended to form an inferior clergy, less closely united to the
body of the church, nearer to the laity, more disposed to
share their manners, in fine, to make common cause with the
age and the people. Accordingly, they did not cease atten
tively to overlook and curb the chaplains. They, however,
by no means destroyed them; they dared not attempt it: the
development of the feudal system even gave to this institution
a fixity which at first was wanting to it: and this was also
one of the ways by which the laity regained that influence in
the government of the reUgious society, which its legal and
internal constitution refused to it.
4fhly. The bishops themselves were constrained to open
another way to it. The administration of the temporal
affairs and property of the church, was often a source of
embarrassment and danger to them; they had not only differ
ences to decide, and suits to maintain, but, in the fearful dis
order of the time, the property of the church was exposed to
continual devastations, engaged and compromised in numerous
quarrels, in private wars; and when it was necessary to
make a defence, when the church, in behalf of her domains
or her rights, had some robbery to repel, some legal proof,
perhaps even, in some cases, a judicial combat to main
tain, pious menaces, exhortations, excommunications even did
not always suffice; she wanted temporal and worldly arms.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 43
In order to procure them, she had recourse to an expedient.
For some time past certain churches, especially in Africa, had
been in the habit of selecting defenders who, under the name of
causidici, tutores, vice-domini, were charged with the duty of
appearing for them before justice, and of protecting them ad
versus potentias divitum. An analogous necessity, and one far
more pressing, led the churches of Frankish-Gaul to seek
among their neighbouring laity a patron who, under the name
of advocatus, took their cause in hand and became their man,
not only in judicial disputes, where they had need of him,
but against any robberies which might threaten them. From
the sixth to the eighth century, the advocates of the church
did not yet appear with the development nor under the
forms which they received at a later period, in the feudal
system; we do not as yet distinguish the advocati sagati,
or armed, from the advocati togati, charged merely with civil
affairs. But the institution was not the less real and effica
cious; we find numerous churches choosing advocates; they
were careful to take powerful and brave men; kings some
times gave them to churches who as yet had no advocates,
and the laity were thus called in to participate in the temporal
administration of the church, and to exercise an important
influence over her affairs.
It was generally by granting them certain privileges, espe
cially in giving them the usufruct of some domain, that the
churches thus solicited the support, and paid the services of
some powerful neighbour.
We may aheady see, if I may so express myself, four
doors opened to religious society to enter the ecclesiastical
society, and there exercise some power; the separation of ordi
nation and tonsure, that is to say, the introduction into the
church of many clerks who were not ecclesiastics; the rights
attached to the foundation and to the patronage of churches;
the, institution of private oratories; and lastly, the interven
tion of advocates in the administration of the temporal inte
rests of the church; such were the principal causes which, at
the epoch which occupies us, combated the exclusive domina
tion of ecclesiastical society over religious society, and
weakened or retarded its effects. I might point out many
others which I omit, because they were less general and less
evident. A priori, such a fact was easy to presume: this

44 HISTORY OF
separation of the governing and the governed could not be so
absolute as the official institutions of the church at this epoch
would lead us to suppose. If it had been so, if the body
of the faithful had been strangers to the body of priests to
such a degree, and deprived of all influence over its govern
ment, the government, in its turn, would have soon found
itself a stranger to its people, and deprived of aU power. It
must not be supposed that servitude is complete wherever
the forms or even the principles of tyranny are found. Pro
vidence does not permit evil to be developed in all the rigour
of its consequences; and human nature, often so weak, so
easily vanquished by whomsoever wishes to oppress it, has
yet infinite ability and a wonderful power for escaping from
the yoke which it seems to accept. There can be no doubt
but that, from the sixth to the eighth century, the religious
society bore that of the ecclesiastical society, and that the
separation of the clergy and the people, already a source of
much evil, one day was to cost both of them dearly; but it
was much less complete than it appeared; it only took place
with a crowd of restrictions and modifications which alone
rendered it possible, and alone can explain them.
II. Let us now enter into the bosom of ecclesiastical society
itself, and let us see what became of its internal organization
from the fifth to the eighth century, especially of that prepon
derance of the episcopacy which in the fifth century was its
dominant characteristic.
The organization of the clergy at this epoch was complete,
and almost the same, at least in its essential forms, as it has
remained up to modern times. I can therefore place it before
you in its ensemble ; you will so better follow the variations.
The clergy comprehended two orders, the minor orders and
the major orders. The first were four in number: the aco
lytes, the porters, the exorcists, and the readers. They called
major orders, the under-deacons, the deacons, and the priests.
The inequality was great; the four minor orders were pre
served scarcely more than in name, and out of respect for
ancient traditions; although they were reckoned as clergy,
they did not, truly speaking, form a part of it; they had not
imposed upon them, they were not even recommended to
celibacy; they were looked upon rather as servants than
as members of the clergy. When, therefore, the clergy and

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 45
the ecclesiastical government of this epoch is spoken of, it is
only the major orders that are meant.
Even in the major orders the influence of the first two
named, the under-deacons and deacons, was weak; the deacons
were occupied rather in administering the property of the
church, and the distribution of her alms than in religious
government properly so called. It is to the order of priests,
truly speaking, that this government was confined; neither
the minor orders, nor the two others of the major orders,
reaUy participated in it.
The body of priests were subject, in the first six centuries,
to numerous and important vicissitudes. The bishop, in my
opinion, ought to be considered as its primitive and funda
mental element; not that the same functions, the same rights,
have always been indicated by this word; the episcopacy of
the second century greatly differed from that of the fourth; it
is no less the starting point of ecclesiastical organization. The
bishop was, originally, the inspector, the chief of the religious
congregation of each town. The Christian church took birth
in towns; the bishops were its first magistrates.
When Christianity spread into the rural districts, the muni
cipal bishop no longer sufficed. Then appeared the chorepiscopi,
or rural bishops, moving, ambulatory bishops, episcopi vagi,
considered, sometimes as the delegates, sometimes as the
equals, the rivals even of the metropolitan bishops, and whom
the latter attempted at first to subject to their power, and
afterwards to abolish.
They succeeded therein: the rural districts once Chris
tian, the chorepiscopi in their turn no longer sufficed: some
thing more fixed, more regular, was necessary; something
less contested by the most influential magistrates of the
church, that is to say, the metropolitan bishops. Then pa
rishes were formed; each Christian agglomeration at all con
siderable became a parish, and had a priest for its religious
head, naturally subordinate to the bishop of the neighbour
ing town, from whom he received and held all his powers;
for it seems that originally parish priests acted absolutely
only as representatives, as delegates of the bishops, and not in
virtue of their own right.
The union of all the agglomerated parishes around a town,
in a circumscription for a long time vague and variable,
formed the diocese.

46 HISTORY OF
After a certain time, and in order to bring more regu
larity and completeness into the relations of the diocesan
clergy, they formed a smaU association of many parishes
under the name of the rural chapter, and at the head of the
rural chapter was placed an archpriest. At a later period
many rural chapters were united in a new circumscription
under the name of district, which was directed by an arch
deacon. This last institution had scarcely arisen at the
epoch of which we treat: it is true that long before we find
archdeacons in the dioceses; but there was but one, and he
did not preside over a territorial circumscription; established
in an episcopal town, in the same town with the bishop,
he took his place, sometimes in the exercise of his juris
diction, sometimes in the visitation of the diocese. It was
only at the end of the seventh, or, at least, at the commence
ment of the eighth century, that we see many archdeacons
in the same diocese, residing at a distance from the bishop,
and each placed at the head of a district. We still encounter
at this epoch, in Frankish Gaul, some chorepiscopi; but the
name and charge were not long in disappearing.
The diocesan organization was then complete and defini
tive. The bishop, as you see, had been its source, as he
remained its centre. He was much changed himself, but it
was around him, and under his influence, that almost all
other changes were brought about.
All the dioceses in the civil province formed the eccle
siastical province, under the direction of the metropolitan
or archbishop. The quality of the archbishop was but the
expression of this fact. The civil metropolis was generally
more wealthy, more populous than the other towns of the
province; its bishop had more influence; people met around
him on aU important occasions; his residence became the
chief place of the provincial council; he convoked it, and
was the president of it; he was moreover charged with the
confirmation and consecration of the newly elected bishops
of the province; with receiving accusations brought against
bishops, and the appeals from their decisions, and with car
rying them, after having made a first examination, to the
provincial council, which alone had the right of judging them.
The archbishops unceasingly attempted to usurp this right,
and make a personal power of it. They often succeeded;

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 47
but, in truth, as to all important circumstances, it was to the
provincial council that it appertained; the archbishops were
only charged with superintending the execution of it.
In some states finally, especially in the east, the organiza
tion of the church extended beyond the archbishops. .As
they had constituted parishes into the diocese, and the dio
ceses "into the province, they undertook to constitute pro
vinces into national churches, under the direction of a
patriarch. The undertaking succeeded in Syria, in Pales
tine, in Egypt, in the Eastern Empire; there was a patriarch
at Antioch, at Jerusalem, at Constantinople; he was, with
regard to archbishops, what archbishops were to bishops;
and the ecclesiastical organization corresponded in aU degrees
of the hierarchy with the political organization.
The same attempt took place in the west, not only on the
part of the bishops of Rome, who laboured at an early period
to become the patriarchs of the whole west, but indepen
dently of their pretensions, and even against them. There
are scarcely any of the states formed after the invasion,
which did not attempt, from the sixth to the eighth century,
to become a national church, and to have a patriarch. In
Spain, the archbishop of Toledo; in England, the arch
bishop of Canterbury; in Frankish Gaul, the archbishop of
Aries, of Vienne, of Lyons, of Bourges, bore the title of pri
mate or patriarch of Gaul, of Great Britain, of Spain, and
attempted to exercise all its rights. But the attempt
everywhere failed: the western states had scarcely taken
rise; their limits, their government, their very existence were
incessantly in question. Gaul, particularly, was divided be
tween many nations, and, in the heart of each nation, be
tween the sons of the kings; the bishops of a kingdom were
unwilling to acknowledge the authority of a foreign primate;
the civil government was equally opposed to it. Besides,
the bishop of Rome, already in possession of great influ
ence, even where his official supremacy was not acknow-
leged, warmly contested the establishment of the patriarchs;
in Gaul, the principle upon which he acted was constantly to
transfer the primacy from one metropolitan to another, so as
to prevent its remaining too long attached to one particular
aee; at one time he favoured the pretensions to the primacy
of the metropoUtan of Vienne, then those of the bishop of

48 HISTORY OF
Aries; at another time those of the bishop of Lyons; and
then again those of the bishop of Sens; so as, by this con
stant fluctuation and uncertainty in the religious and civil
order, to prevent the institution from attaining force or
fixity. The same causes which operated against this particular
institution, extended their influence beyond it; in the same
• way that they had prevented the system of the patriarchate
from taking root, they weakened and finally broke down the
archiepiscopal system. From the sixth to the eighth century,
the metropolitan bishops fell from time to time lower and
lower; so that, at the accession of the Carlovingians, they
could hardly be said to exist at aU. The circumstance alone
of the parcelling out of Gaul into different states, was calcu
lated to be of fatal consequence to them. The circumscrip
tion of the religious society no longer agreed with that of the
civil society. Within the province of the archbishop of Lyons,
for instance, there were bishops subject to the kingdom of the
Visigoths, and to the kingdom of the Franks, and who, on all
occasions, eagerly availed themselves of this pretext for evad
ing their spiritual superior's authority, quite certain of being
supported hy the temporal sovereign. Moreover, as you have
seen, the preponderance of the metropolitans was based upon
that of the town in which they respectively resided, and upon
its former quality as a metropolis. Now, in the general dis
order occasioned by the invasion, considerable changes took
place in the relative importance of towns; rich, important
cities, metropoles, truly so called, became poor and depopulated.
Others, on whom fortune smiled more favourably, acquired a
wealth and population previously unknown to them. With
the disappearance from a city of its importance, disappeared
the cause which had rendered its bishop a metropolitan, and
the word metropolitan became, by degrees, a falsehood, a cir-
.umstance highly dangerous to the power which it outwardly
expressed. Besides, it was in the very nature of the institu
tion to be assailed at once, on the one hand, by the bishops,
who were not desirous of having a spiritual superior; on the
other, by the bishop of Rome, who naturally wished to have
no rivals; the result was what might have been expected.
The bishops preferred, as their general metropolitan, the
bishop of Rome, who lived at a distance, and took care to con-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 49
ciliate them, not having them as yet within his power, adopted
the course of supporting the bishop of Rome against their
more immediate metropolitans. Thus attacked on" both sides,
the metropolitans daily declined in influence and power; the
bishops ceased to pay any attention to their mandates, or even
to their exhortations; the body of the church to have recourse
in any way to their intervention; and when, in 744, Pepin-
le-Bref consulted pope Zachary on the best means of restor
ing order to the confused and agitated church, one of his first
questions was, what course he should adopt for procuring
respect for the metropoUtans at the hands of the bishops and
parochial priests.
In point of fact, the whole government of the church, at
this period, was in the hands of the bishops and of the priests:
they were the only members of it who were at all active and
powerful. What were their mutual relations? how was power
divided between them?
The general manifest fact was, the exclusive domination
and, we may say, despotism, of the bishops. Let us seek
closely for the causes of this: it is the best means of properly
understanding the situation of the church.
1. And first, the faU of the metropolitans left the bishops
without superiors, or very nearly so. With the head of the
ecclesiastical province declined the provincial synod, which it
was his privilege to assemble and preside over. These synods,
heretofore the unquestionable superiors of the bishops, to whith
appeals were carried from the decisions of the bishops, and
which took cognizance of all the causes which the bishops could
not of themselves decide, became rare and inactive. In the course
of the sixth century, there were held in Gaul fifty-four coun
cils of every description; in the seventh century, only twenty;
in the first half of the eighth century, only seven, and five of
these w»re held in Belgium, or on the banks of the Rhine.1
1 Table qf the Gaulish Councils of the Sixth Century.

Date.

Place.

Present.
25 bishops, 8 priests, 2 deacons, re
presenting their bishops.
32 bishops.
4 bishops, 8 eounts.

, 507511

Toulouse

1 515

VOL. II.

50 HISTORY OF
Table of the Gaulish Councils of the sixth century — continued

Date. 516
517517517524527529529529530533535
538540 541545
549 549
550550 554555555557563567567 573575577578

579579580
581581583584585587588588589589

Place.
LyonsPlace uncertain 
Epaonense 
Lyons 
Aries 
Carpentras 
Orange 
Valencia.Vaison 
Angers 
Orleans 
Clermont 
Orleans 
Orleans.Orleans 
Aries.Orleans 
Aries 
Toul. Metz.
Axles 
Place uncertain in Brit
tany.
Paris 
Paris 
Saintes.
Lyons 
Tours 
Paris 
Lyons Paris.
Auxerre 

Chalons Saintes.
Braines.Lyons. Macon 
Lyons 
Valencia.Macon 
Andelot. Clermont.
Place uncertain.
Sourcy near Soissons
Chalons,

Present.
16 bishops.
25 bishops.
11 bishops.
14 bishops, 4 priests.
19 bishops.
14 bishops, 8 viri ilhistres
11 or 12 bishops.
5 bishops.
26 bishops, 5 priests.
15 bishops.
19 bishops, 7 priests.
38 bishops, 11 priests, 1 abbot.
5 bishops, 21 priests, archdeacons,
or abbots.
10 bishops.

11 bishops, 8 priests, deacons, or
archdeacons.

27 bishops.
16 bishops.
8 bishops, 5 priests, 1 deacon.
7 bishops.
32 bishops, 1 priest

The bishop of Auxerre, 7 abbots,
34 priests, 3 deacons, all of the
diocese of Auxerre

21 bishops.
8 bishops, 12 delegates of bish'jps.
43 bishops, 15 delegates. 16 bisnops
without sees

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 51
Table of the Gaulish Councils of the sixth century— continued.

Place-
Narbonne 
Upon the confines of Au-
vergne, of Eouergue,
and of Givaudan.
Poictiers.Metz. Nanterre. Chalons.

Present.

7 bishops.

6 bishops.

Table of the Councils of Gaul in the Seventh Century.

Date. 603615
shortly \
afterwards J
625627628 633638648
650 or 645
650658 664669 670670679
684 or 685
688
692 or 682

Place
Chalons.Paris. Place uncertain.
Eheims 
Macon. Clichy 
Clichy 
Paris 
Bourges. Orleans.
Chalons 
Nantes. Paris 
Clichy 
Sens 
Autun. Place uncertain.
In the palace of the king
Ibid.Eouen 

Present.

41 bishops.
Bishops and high laymen.
1 5 bishops, Dagobert, great men.
9 bishops, Dagobert, great men.

38 bishops, 5 abbots, 1 archdeacon
25 bishops.
Bishops and great men.
30 bishops.

16 bishops, 4 abbots, 1 legate, 3
archdeacons, many priests and
deacons.

Table of the Councils of Gaul in the first half of the Eighth Century.
Present.

Place.
Maestricht. In Germany.
Septines.Soissons
In Germany
Ibid.Vermeric.

52 HISTORY OF
Thus graduaUy freed from individual superiors, and from
assemblies of their equals, the bishops found themselves in
an almost entirely independent position. There was a
change, too, in the system of episcopal elections. You
have seen that the election by the clergy and the people,
although still legal and of frequent occurrence at the epoch
which occupies us, was still far more uncertain and far less
real. A foreign force, royalty, constantly interfered therein,
in order to bring trouble and impotence into it: kings un
ceasingly directly nominated bishops, despite the continual
protestations of the church, and, in all cases, the elected
required their confirmation. The ties which united the bishops
to their priests became accordingly very much weakened; it
was almost solely by election that the clergy influenced the
episcopacy; and this influence, if it was not destroyed, was at
least enervated and disputed.
2ndly. There resulted from this another circumstance
which still more separated the bishops from their priests:
when the clergy elected them, it took them from its own bosom;
it selected men already known and accredited in the diocese.
When, on the contrary, a crowd of bishops received their
title from kings, the greater part arrived strangers, unknown,
alike without credit and without affection among the clergy
whom they had to govern. Taken even in the diocese, they
were there often destitute of consideration; intriguers who
had succeeded, by disgraceful means, or even by money, in
obtaining the royal preference. Thus were still farther
broken the ties which united the bishops to the clergy; thus
the episcopal power, which no longer possessed any superior
power, was alike released from the influence of its people; as
the clergy was separated from the lay population, so was the
episcopacy separated from the clergy.
3rdly. This is not all: the clergy itself declined; not only
did it lose its power, but its position, and, so to speak, its
quaUty was diminished. You have seen that, at this epoch, a
great number of slaves entered into the church, and by what
causes. The bishops soon perceived that a clergy thus formed
was without principle, without power, far more easy to govern
and to conquer, if it attempt to resist. In many dioceses
they took care to recruit it from the same source, to aid
themselves the natural course of things; this origin of a crowd

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 5C
of priests long contributed to the sovereignty of the epis
copacy. 4thly. Here we have a fourth cause, even more powerful
and extensive. The bishops were the sole administrators of the
property of the church. This property was of two kinds:
on one side, foundation property, every day more considerable,
for it was under this form that the greater part of donations
to churches were made; on the other, the offerings of the
faithful in the churches themselves. I shaU say a word, in
passing, of a third kind of ecclesiastical revenue, which at a
later period played an important part, but which, at the
seventh century, was not yet well established; I mean the
tithe. From the earhest ages, the clergy made continual
efforts to bring back or to generaUse this Hebrew institution;
it preached it, it praised it; it recaUed the Jewish traditions
and manners. Two Gaulish councils of the sixth century,
that of Tours, in 567, and that of Macon, in 585, made it the
subject of formal provisions. But they felt, by their very
tone, that these dispositions were rather exhortations than
laws: " We urgently caution you," writes the council of
Tours to the faithful, " that, foUowing the examples of
Abraham, you do not fail to offer to God the tenth of aU
your property, to the end that you may preserve the rest;"1
and these exhortations were but of Uttle effect.
It was at a later period, and only under the Carlovingians,
that, with the aid of the civil power, the clergy attained its
end, and rendered the tithe general and regular. At the
epoch of which we treat, the foundation property and the
offerings were her only revenues. Now it must not be sup
posed, that these revenues belonged to a particular church or
parish, where the source of them lay: the produce of all the
adjacent domains, of all offerings received in the diocese,
formed a mass of which the bishop alone had the disposition:
" Let the domains, estates, vineyards, slaves, the peculium,
.... which are given to parishes," says the council of
Orleans, " remain in the power of the bishop."2 _ Charged
with the cost of dispensing worship and the maintenance
of the priests, in the whole diocese, it was the bishop who
determined the part allotted to each parish. Certain rules, it
» Labbe, vol. v. col. 868. « Council of Orleans, in 611, c. 14, 15.

54 HISTORY OF
is true, were soon established with regard to this matter.
three parts were usually made of the revenues of a parish;
one third was appropriated to the priests who performed its
duties; another to the expense of worship, and a third
returned to the bishop. But in spite of this legal injunction,
often repeated by the canons, the centralization of the eccle
siastical revenues continued; the general administration
belonged to the bishop, and it was easy to foresee the
extension of this means of power.
5th. He disposed of persons almost as of things, and the
Uberty of the parish priests was scarcely better guaranteed
than their revenue. The principle of the servitude of the
glebe, if I may so express myself, was introduced into the
church; we read in the acts of the councils:
" It is said, in the law concerning the labourers of the field,
that each must remain wherever he began to live. The
canons likewise order, that the priests who work for the
church remain where they commenced."1
" Let no bishop raise in degree a strange priest."2
" Let no one ordain a priest who does not first promise to
remain where he shaU be placed."3
Never was power over persons more expressly established.
6th. The progress of the poUtical importance of the bishops
turned equaUy to the profit of their religious domination.
They entered into the national assemblies; they surrounded
and counseUed kings. How could the poor priests struggle
with any advantage against such superiors? Besides, such
was the disorder of the times, and both the difficulty and the
necessity of maintaining some general tie, some unity in the
administration of the church, that the course of things agree
ing with the passions of men, tended to strengthen the central
power. The despotism of the episcopal aristocracy prevailed
by the same causes which caused that of the feudal aristocracy
to prevail; this was, perhaps, at this epoch, the common and
dominant want, the only means of maintaining society.
But it redounds to the honour and safety of human na
ture, that an evil, although inevitable, is never accomplished
without resistance, and that liberty, incessantly protesting
1 Council of Seville, in 619, c 3. 2 Council of Angers, in 453, c. 9.
* Council of Valencia, in 524, e. 6.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 55
and struggling against necessity, prepares the enfranchise
ment, even at the moment that it submits to the yoke. The
bishops strangely abused their immense power: the priests,
and the revenues of their diocese were the prey to violences
and exactions of all kinds: the acts of the councils, composed
of bishops only, are, in this respect, the most unexceptionable
testimony. " We have learned," says the council of Toledo, " that the
bishops treat their parishes, not episcopally, but cruelly; and
while it has been written ' neither as being lords over God's
heritage, but being ensamples to the flock,' they load their
dioceses with loss and exactions. It is for this reason that
the things which the bishops appropriate to themselves are to
be refused them, with the exception of what the ancient insti
tutions grant them; let the priests, whether parochial or
diocesan, who shall be tormented by the bishop, carry their
complaints to the metropolitan, and let the metropolitan delay
not to repress such excesses."1
" Those who have already obtained ecclesiastical degrees,
that is to say, the priests," says the council of Braga,
"must in noway be subject to receive blows, except for
grave and deadly faults. It is not suitable that each bishop
should, according to his incUnation and when it pleases him,
strike with blows and cause his honourable ministers to suffer,
for fear he lose the respect which is his due from those who
are subject to him."2
The priests did not lose aU respect for the bishops, nor
any more did they accept aU their tyranny. An important
fact, and one too Uttle remarked, is seen here and there during
the course of this epoch: this is the contest of the parochial
priests against the bishops. Three principal symptoms in
the acts of the councils must not be overlooked:
1st. The parochial priests, the inferior clerks, leagued
among themselves to resist: they formed conjuratios against
the bishops similar to those conjuratios, to those fraternities
formed at a later period by the burghers against their lords.
" If any priests, as has happened lately in many places, at
the instigation of the devil should rebel against authority, unite
in a conspiracy, should take a common oath among themselves,
> CouncU of Toledo, in 589, c. 20. * Council of Braga, in 675, >=. 7.

56 HISTORY OF
or unite in a common bond, let such audacity be concealed
under no pretext, and, the thing once known, let the bishops,
assembled in synod, punish the guilty according to their rank
and quahty."1
" Lf any priests, for the purposes of revolt, should combine in
a common bond, whether verbal, or written, and should cun
ningly lay snares for their bishop, and, once warned to give up
these practices, should refuse to obey, let them be degraded
from their rank."2
2nd. The priests have constantly recourse against their
bishops, to the aid of the laity, probably to that of the lord
of the manor, or any other powerful person in the district
with whom they are in connexion. We find this injunction
repeatedly in the acts of the councils:
" Let not the priests rise up against their bishops by the
aid of secular power."3
3rd. But while repeating this prohibition, while proscribing
the conjurationes of the priests, the councils themselves
endeavoured to apply some remedy to the evUs combined
against: complaints were constantly addressed to them from
all quarters, to which they felt themselves compelled to pay
attention; a few passages from their acts will be more
elucidatory on this point than any comments of ours:
" As some complaints have reached us, of certain bishops
having taken possession of things given by the faithful for
the use of their parishes, so that little or nothing is left to
the churches upon which these gifts were really bestowed, it
has appeared to us just and reasonable, and we hereby
declare that, if the church of the city wherein the bishop
resides is so well provided, that, by the grace of Christ, it
wants for nothing, aU that remains to the parishes should be
distributed among the clerks who officiate in them, or em
ployed in repairing their churches. But if the bishop is involved
in much expense, without sufficient revenue to meet its there
shaU be given to the richer parishes that which is fitting
and reasonable, whether for priests, or for the support of the
1 Council of Orleans, iu 538, c. 28.
2 Councils of Rheims in 625, c. 2 ; see nlpo the council of Narbonne, in
689, c. 5. 3 Council of Clermont, in 535. c. 4.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 57
buildings, and let the bishop appropriate the surplus to his
own use, in order that he may provide for his expenses."1
" If offerings have been made to the basilicas established in
cities, of lands, goods, or any other things whatsoever, let
thern be at the disposition of the bishop, and let him be free
to employ what is suitable, whether in the repair of the basi
lica, or in the support of priests who officiate in it. With re
gard to parochial property or basihcas established in boroughs,
dependent upon cities, let the custom of each place be ob
served."2 " It has been decided that no bishop, in the visitation of his
diocese, shaU receive from any church anything beyond what is
due to him, as a mark of honour to his see; he shall not take
the third of all the offerings of the people in the parish
churches, but this third shall remain for the lighting and re
pairs of the churcues; and each year the bishop shall have
an account of it. For if the bishop take this third, he robs
the church of its light and the support of its roof."3
" Avarice is the root of aU evil, and this guilty thirst seizes
even the hearts of the bishops. Many of the faithful, from
love for Christ and the martyrs, raise basilicas in the parishes
of the bishops, and deposit offerings therein; but the bishops
seize upon them and turn them to their own use. Thence it
follows that priests are wanting to perform Divine service,
because they do not receive their fees. Dilapidated cathedrals
are not repaired because sacerdotal avarice has carried off all
the funds. The present orders, therefore, that bishops
govern their churches without receiving more than is due to
them according to the ancient decrees, that is to say, the third
of the offerings and of the parochial revenues; if they take
more than this, the council wiU cause it to be returned on the
demand of either the founders of the church themselves if they
be living, or of their descendants." Nevertheless, the founders
of churches are not to suppose that they retain any power
whatever over the property with which they have endowed the
said churches, seeing that according to the canons, not only
the church itself, but the property with which it is endowed,
is under the jurisdiction, duly administered, of the bishop."4
• Council of Carpentras, in 527 2 Council of Orleans, in 538, c. 5-
« Council of Braga, in 572. c. 2 * Council of Toledo in 638 c. 33-

58 HISTORY OF
" Among the things which it behoves us to regulate by
common consent, it is more especiaUy necessary to meet dis
creetly, the complaints of the parochial priests of the province
of Galicia, touching the rapacity of their bishops, which has
grown to such a height as to compel the priests to demand
public inquiry into them; such inquiry having been made, it
has clearly resulted that these bishops overwhelm their pa
rochial churches with their exactions; and that while they
themselves wallow in luxury, they have brought many of the
churches to the verge of ruin; in order to put a stop to such
abuses we order that, according to the regulations of the
synod of Braga, each of the bishops of the said province shall
receive annually from each of the churches in his diocese the
sum of two solidi,1 and no more. And when the bishop visits
his diocese, let him be burdensome to no one from the multi
tude of his attendants, let him have no more than five car
riages with him, and let him stay no longer than one day at
each church."2
The extracts here given are amply sufficient to prove the
oppression and the resistance, the evil and the attempt to remedy
it; — the resistance was abortive, the remedy ineffectual:
episcopal despotism continued to take deeper and wider root.
Thus, at the commencement of the eighth century, the
church had fallen into a state of disorder almost equal to that
prevalent in civil society. Without superiors, without in
feriors at all to be dreaded — relieved from the superin
tendence of the metropolitans and of the councils, rejecting
the influence of the priests — a crowd of bishops were seen
yielding themselves up to the most scandalous excesses.
Masters of the ever increasing wealth of the church, ranking
amongst the great landed proprietors, they adopted their
interests and their manners; they relinquished their ecclesi
astical character and led 'a wholly secular life; they kept
hounds and falcons, they went from place to place surrounded
by an armed retinue, they took part in the national war
fare; nay more, they undertook, from time to time, expedi
tions of violence and rapine against their neighbours on their
own account. A crisis was inevitable; everything prepared
the necessity for reformation, everything proclaimed it, and
1 About 13s 2 Council of Toledo, in 646, u. 4.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 59
you will see that in point of fact, shortly after the accession
of the Carlovingians, an attempt at reformation was made by
the civil power, but the church herself contained the germ of
a remedy: side by side with the secular clergy, there had
been rising up another order, influenced by other principles,
animated with another spirit, and which seemed destined to
prevent that dissolution with which the church was menaced*
I speak of the monks. Their history from the sixth tj
eighth century wiU be the object of our nezt lecture.

60 HISTORY OF

FOURTEENTH LECTURE.

History of the regular clergy, or the monks, from the sixth to the eighth
century — That the monks were at first laymen — Importance of this fact
— Origin and progressive development of the monastic Ufe in the east —
First rules — Importation of the monks into the west — They are ill re
ceived there — Their first progress — Difference between eastern and
western monasteries — Opinion of Saint Jerome, as to the errors of the
monastic life — General causes of its extension — State of the monks in
the west in the fifth century — Their power and their want of coher
ence — Saint Benedict — His life — He founds the monastery of Monte
Cassino — Analysis and estimate of his rule — It diffuses itself through
out the west, and becomes predominant in almost all the monasteries
there.
Since we resumed the history of religious society in
Frankish Gaul, we have considered: 1, the general dominant
fact which characterized the church from the sixth to the
eighth century— that is to say, its unity; 2, its relations with
the state; 3, its internal organization, the mutual position of
the governors and the governed, the constitution of the
government — that is to say, of the clergy.
We have seen that, towards the middle of the eighth cen
tury, the government of the church, the clergy, had fallen
into a state of great disorder and decay. We have recognised
a crisis, the necessity for reformation; I mentioned to you
that a principle of reform already existed in the bosom of the
clergy itself; I named the regular clergy, the monks; it is
with their history at the same period that we 'are now about
to occupy ourselves.
The term, regular clergy, is calculated to produce an illu
sory effect, it gives one the idea that the monks have always

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 61
been ecclesiastics, have always essentially formed a part of
the clergy, and this is, in point of fact, the general notion
which has been applied to them indiscriminately, without re
gard to time, or place, or to the successive modifications of the
institution. And not only are monks regarded as ecclesias
tics, but they are by many people considered as, so to speak,
the most ecclesiastical of all ecclesiastics, as the most com
pletely of aU clerical bodies separated from civil society, as
the most estranged from its interest and from its manners.
This, if I mistake not, is the impression which the mere men
tion of their name at present, and for a long time past, na
turaUy arouses in the mind; it is an impression full of error:
at their origin, and for at least two centuries afterwards, the
monks were not ecclesiastics at all; they were mere laymen,
united together indeed by a common religious creed, in a
common reUgious sentiment, and with a common religious
object, but altogether apart from the ecclesiastical society,
from the clergy, especially so called.
And not only was such the nature of the institution at its
origin, but this primitive character which is so generally un
heeded, has prominently influenced its whole history, and
alone enables us to comprehend its vicissitudes. I have
already made some remarks upon the establishment of monas
teries in the west, more especially in the south of Gaul. I
will now, in renewing the subject, trace back the facts to their
remotest sources, and foUow them more closely in their de
velopment. You are all aware it was in the east that the monks took
their rise. The form in which they first appeared, was very
different from that which they afterwards assumed, and in
which the mind is accustomed to view them. In the earUer
years of Christianity, a few men of more excitable imagina
tions than their fellows, imposed upon themselves all sorts of
sacrifices and of extraordinary personal austerities; this, how
ever, was no Christian innovation, for we find it, not only in
a general tendency of human nature, but in the religious
manners of the entire east, and in several Jewish traditions.
The ascetes (this was the name first given to these pious
enthusiasts; ao-K-no-ig, exercises, ascetic life,) were the first form
of monks. They did not segregate, in the first instance, from
civU society; they did not retire into the deserts; they only

62 HISTORY OF
condemned themselves to fasting, silence, to all sorts of
austerities, more especially to ceUbacy.
Soon afterwards they retired from the world; they went to
live far from mankind, absolutely alone, amidst woods and
deserts, in the depths of the Thebaid. The ascetes became
hermits, anchorites; this was the second form of the monastic
Ufe. After some time, from causes which have left no traces be
hind them — yielding, perhaps, to the powerful attraction of
some more peculiarly celebrated hermit, of Saint Anthony,
for instance, or perhaps simply tired of complete isolation,
the anchorites collected together, built their huts side by side,
and while continuing to live each in his own abode, performed
their religious exercises together, and began to form a regular
community. It was at this time, as it would seem, that they
first received the name of monks.1
By and bye they made a further step; instead of remaining
in separate huts, they coUected in one edifice, under one roof :
the association was more closely knit, the common Ufe more
complete. They became cenobites ;2 this was the fourth form
of the monastic institution, its definitive form, that to which
aU its subsequent developments were to adapt themselves.
At about this period we see arising, for the conduct of
these houses of cenobites, for these monasteries, a certain dis
cipline mutuaUy agreed upon, certain written rules, directing
the exercises of these small societies, and laying down the
obligations of their members; among these primitive rules of
the eastern monks, the most celebrated are those of Saint
Anthony, Saint Macharius, Saint Hilarius, and Saint Paco-
mus; all these rules are brief and general, directed to a few
leading circumstances of life, but without any pretension to
govern the whole life; they are precepts, in fact, rather than
rules, customs, rather than laws. The ascetes, the hermits,
and the other different classes of monks, continued to subsist,
concurrently with the cenobites, in all the independence of
their first condition.
The spectacle of such a Ufe, of so much rigidity and enthu
siasm, of sacrifice and of liberty, strongly excited the hnagi-
1 Monachus, fiovaxoe, from fiovoc, alone.
s Cenohitffl, noivotioi, from koivoc, common, and/3io<;, life.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 63
nation of the people. The monks were multiplied with a
prodigious rapidity, and varied to infinity. As you may
suppose, I shall not enter into the detail of all the forms
which under this name, were taken by the exaltation of the
faithful; I shall only indicate the extreme terms, so to speak,
of the career which it ran through, and its two effects, at once
the most strange and the most various. While, under the
name of Messalians, or ovxtra, numerous bands of fanatics
overran Mesopotamia, Armenia, &c, rejecting the legal wor
ship, merely celebrating irregular spontaneous prayer, and
abandoning themselves in the towns, upon public places, to
aU sorts of extravagancies; others, in order to separate them
selves more completely from aU human intercourse, established
themselves, after the example of Saint Simeon of Antioch, on
the summit of a column, and under the name of stylites, de
voted their Ufe to this fantastical isolation; and neither one
nor the other were in want of admirers and imitators.1
In the last half of the fourth century, the rule of Saint
Basil brought some regularity into the new institution.
Digested into the form of answers to questions of all kinds>2
it soon became the general discipUne of the monasteries of the
west — of aU those, at least, which had neither any entirety or
fixity. Such could not fail to be the result of the influence of
the secular clergy over the monastic Ufe, of which the most
iUustrious bishops, Saint Athanasius, Saint Basil, Saint
Gregory Nazianzen, and numerous others, then declared
themselves the patrons. This patronage could not fail to
introduce into it more order and system. StiU, the monasteries
remained purely lay associations — strangers to the clergy, to
its functions, to its rights. For the monks, there was no
ordination, no ecclesiastical engagements. Their dominant
characteristic was always reUgious exaltation and liberty.
They entered into the association, they went out from it, they
chose their own abode, their own austerities; enthusiasm took
the form and entered the path which pleased it. The monks,
in a word, had nothing in common with the priests, except
their doctrines and the respect with which they inspired the
population. ' There were stylites in the east down to the twelfth century.
* It contained 203 questions, and as many answers

64 HISTORY OF
Such was the state of the monastic institution in the east
at the last half of the fourth century. It was somewhere
about this period that it was introduced into the west. Saint
Athanasius, driven from his see, retired to Rome;1 he took
there with him some monks, and there celebrated their virtues
and glory. His accounts, and the spectacle offered by the
first monks, or those who followed their example, were ill
received by the western population. Paganism was still
very strong in the west, especially in Italy. The superior,
classes who had abandoned its doctrines wished at least to
preserve its manners, and a part of the inferior orders still
preserved its prejudices. The monks, at their first appear
ance, were then an object of contempt and of anger. At the
funeral of Blesilla, a young Roman nun, who died, it was
said, from excessive fasting, in 384, the people cried: " When
will they drive this detestable race of monks from the town?
Why do they not stone them? Why don't they throw them
into the river?" It is St. Jerome who records these popular
ebullitions.2 " In the cities of Africa," says Salvienus, " and more espe
cially in Carthage, no sooner did a man in a cloak make his
appearance, pale, and with his head shaved, than the miser
able infidel populace assailed him with curses and abuse; and
if some servant of God, from the monasteries of Egypt, or
the holy city of Jerusalem, or the venerable retreat of some
hermitage, proceeded to that city to fulfil some pious duty,
the people pursued him with odious insults, ridiculing and
hissing him.3
I have already mentioned Rutilius Numatianus, a GauUsh
poet, who resided for a long time at Rome, and has left us a
poem, celebrating his return to his native country; in the
course of this poem, he says, in reference to the Isle of
Gorgon a:
" I detest those rocks, scene of the recent shipwreck of one
I hold dear: it was there a fellow-townsman of my own de
scended Uving into the tomb. He was one of our own nobles,
possessor of a splendid fortune, blessed in a happy and dig
nified marriage; but, impelled by madness, he abandoned
1 In 341 . 2 Letters to Paul, Lett. 22, al. 25,
5 De Gubernatione Dei. viii. 4.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. G£
God and men, and now, a credulous exile, foolishly takes
delight in a foul retreat in this island. Unfortunate man,
who seeks celestial food amidst filthy garbage, and, more
cruel to himself than are his offended gods, persists in his
miserable solitude. This Christian sect, with its delusions,
is more fatal than are the poisons of Circe: these only change
the body; that perverts the mind."1
Rutilius, I admit, was a pagan, but numbers of men in the
west were so too, and received the same impressions.
Meantime, the revolution which had filled the east with
monks, pursued its course in the west, bringing about gra
dually the same results. Paganism after awhUe disappeared,
and the new creed, the new manners, took possession of
society at large; and the monastic life, as in the east, had
soon the greatest bishops for patrons, the whole population
for admirers. St. Ambrose at Milan, St. Martin at Tours,
""St. Augustin in Africa, celebrated its praises, and themselves
founded monasteries. St. Augustin drew up a sort of rule
for the nuns of his diocese, and ere long the institution was
in full vigour throughout the west.
It assumed there, however, from the outset, as I have
already had occasion to observe, a peculiar character. Un
doubtedly the original desire was to imitate what had taken
place in the east; and minute inquiries were made into the
discipUne and manners of the eastern monasteries; a descrip
tion of these, as you are aware, formed the materials of two
books, published at Marseilles by Cassienus; and in the
estabUshment of many of the new monasteries, great pains
were taken to conform to them. But the genius of the
western character differed far too widely from that of the
east for the difference not to be stamped upon the respective
regulations. The desire for retirement, for contemplation,
for a marked rupture with civil society, was the source and
fundamental trait of the eastern monks: in the west, on the
contrary, and especially in southern Gaul, where, at the
commencement of the fifth century, the principal monasteries
were founded, it was in order to live in common, with a view
to conversation as well as to religious edification, that the first
monks met. The monasteries of Lerens, of Saint Victor, and
¦ Itin. i. 517.
VOL. II. F

CO HISTORY OF
many others, were especiaUy great schools of theology, the
focuses of intellectual movement. It was by no means with
solitude or with mortification, but with discussion and activity,
that they there concerned themselves.
And not only was this diversity of situation and turn of
mind in the east and west real, but contemporaries them
selves observed it, paid attention to it; and in labouring to
extend the monastic institution in the west, clear sighted
men took care to say that it was not necessary to servilely
imitate the east, and to explain the reasons why. In point of
fasts and austerities, the rules of the western monasteries
were, in general, less rigid. " Much eating," said Sulpicius
Severus, "is gormandizing among the Greeks, natural among
the Gauls."1
" The rigour of winter," says Cassien also, " does not permit
us to be contented with light stockings, nor with a coat with
out sleeves, nor with a mere tunic; and he who shaU present
himself clothed in a small cloak, or in a thin mantle of goat's
hair, will be laughed at instead of edifying.''2
Another cause no less contributed to give a new direction
to the monastic institution in the west. It was only in the
first half of the fifth century that it spread and reaUy esta
blished itself there. Now, at this epoch, the monasteries of the
east had already taken their full development; all the extrava
gancies of ascetic exaltation had aheady there given a spec
tacle to the world. The great bishops of the west, the chiefs
of the church and of mind in Europe, whatever their religious
ardour, were struck by these excesses of the rising monachism,
the acts of folly to which it led, the vices which it often covered.
Certainly no native of the west had more reUgious enthu
siasm, a more lively, more oriental imagination, nor a more
fiery character, than Saint Jerome. He was, however, by no
means blind to the faults and dangers of the monastic life,
such as it was offered by the east. I will read some pas
sages in which he expresses his thoughts upon this subject;
they are among the number of the most interesting docu
ments of the period, and which give us the best information
upon it. " There are monks," says he, " who, from the
dampness of the ceUs, from immoderate fasts, from the weari-
1 Sulp. Sev. Dial. i. 8. 2 Cassien, de Instit cwnob. 1. ii.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 67
ness of solitude, from excess of reading, fall into melancholy,
and have more need of the remedies of Hippocrates, than
of our advice ... I have seen persons of both sexes, in whom
the understanding has been affected with too much abstinence,
especiaUy among those who live in cold and damp cells;
they no longer knew what they did, nor how to conduct
themselves, nor when they should speak, nor when keep
silence."1 And elsewhere: —
" I have seen men who, renouncing the age only in habits
and name, have changed nothing of their old way of life.
Their fortune is rather increased than diminished. They
have the same cohorts of slaves, the same pomp of banquets.
It is gold that they eat upon miserable dishes of delph or
clay; and amid the swarms of their servants, they have them
selves caUed solitaries."2
" Avoid also men whom thou shalt see loaded with chains,
with the beard of a goat, a black cloak, and feet naked in
spite of cold . . . They enter into the houses of the nobles;
they deceive poor women loaded with sins; they are always
learning and never arrive at the knowledge of truth; they
feign sorrow, and, apparently abandoned to long fasts, they
make amends at night by secret feasts."3
And again: —
" I blush to say it, from the bottom of our cells we condemn
the world; while roUing in sackcloth and ashes, we pronounce
our sentences upon bishops. What means this pride of a
king under the tunic of a penitent? .... Pride quickly
creeps into solitude: that man has fasted a Uttle; he has
seen no one; he already thinks himself a weighty personage;
he forgets what he is, whence he came, where he goes; and
his heart and language already wander on all sides. Contrary
to the will of the apostle, he judges other people's servants;
he goes wherever his gluttony leads him; he sleeps as long
and as often as he pleases; he respects no one; he does what
ever he chooses; he looks down on every one else as inferior

i Saint Jerome, lett. 95 , (al. 4, ad Busticum, 97, (al. 8,) ad Demetri-
adem. 2 Saint Jerome, lett. 95, (al. 7,) ad Rusticum.
' Saint Jerome, lett. 18, (al. 22,) ad Eustochmm.
F 2

68 HISTORY OF
from himself; he is oftener out in the town than in his cell,
and while he affects retiring modesty amongst his brethren,
in the public streets he thrusts himself against any pas
senger."1 Thus, the most impassioned, the most enthusiastic of the
fathers of the west was not unacquainted either with the
insanity, hypocrisy, or the intolerable pride which from that
time the monastic life gave birth to; and characterized them
with that indignant good sense, that satirical and passionate
eloquence which is his characteristic; and he denounced them
loudly, for fear of the contagion.
Many of the most illustrious bishops of the west, Saint
Augustin among others, had the same foresight, and wrote in
the same strain; they also applied themselves to the preven
tion of the absurd extravaganciesin to which the monks of
the east had fallen. But in attending to this, in marking
the insanity or hypocrisy of which the monastic life served as
the groundwork, they incessantly laboured to propagate it.
It was a means for them of drawing away from pagan civil
society, always the same in fact, despite its apparent' con
version, a portion of the laity. Without entering into the
clergy, the monks followed the same path, served the same
influence; the patronage of the bishops could not be wanting
to them. Had it been wanting to them, their progress pro
bably would not have been diminished. It was not to any
ecclesiastical combination, nor even to the movement and the
particular direction that Christianity might impress upon
men's imaginations, that the monastic life owed its origin.
The general state of society at this epoch, was its true source.
It was tainted with three vices, idleness, corruption, and un-
happiness. Men were unoccupied, perverted, and a prey to all
kinds of miseries; this is the reason that we find so many
turning monks. A laborious, honest, or happy people, would
never have entered into this life. When human nature could
not fully and harmoniously display itself, when man could not
pursue the true aim of his destiny, it was then that his de
velopment became eccentric, and that, rather than accept
ruin, he cast himself, at all risks, into the strangest situations.
> Saint Jerome, lett 15, (al. 77,) ad Marcnm ; V (al. 4,) ad Bus-
ticum.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 69
In order to live and act in a regular and reasonable manner,
mankind requires that the facts, in the midst of which it lives
and acts, should be, to a certain degree, reasonable, regular;
that its faculties should find employment, that its conditioa
should not be too austere, that the spectacle of general cor
ruption and abasement should not rebel against, should not
desolate strong souls, in which moraUty cannot be deadened.
The weariness, the disgust at an enervated perversity, and
the desire to fly from the public miseries, is what made the
monks of the east far more than the particular character of
Christianity or an access of religious exaltation. These same
circumstances existed in the west; Italian, Gaulish, African
society, amidst the faU of the Empire, and the devastations of
the barbarians, was as unhappy, as depraved, as idle, as that
of Asia Minor or Egypt. The true causes of the continual
extension of the monastic life were, therefore, the same in
both countries, and must have produced in them the same
effects. Despite the diversities which I have remarked, the simili
tude was also very great, and the counsels of the most illustrious
bishops did not prevent the extravagancies of the monks of
the east from finding imitators in the west. Neither her
mits, recluses, nor any of the pious foUies of the ascetic life
were wanting in Gaul. Saint Senoch, a barbarian by birth,
retired into the environs of Tours, inclosed himself within
four walls, so close together, that he could make no move
ment with the lower part of his person, and lived many years
in this situation, an object of veneration to the surrounding
population. The recluses, Caluppa in Auvergne, Patroclus in the ter
ritory of Langres, Hospitius in Provence, were not quite so
admirable; stiU their celebrity was great, as were their aus
terities.1 Even the stylites had competitors in the west; and
the account which Gregory of Tours has left us concerning
them, paints the manners of the times with sp much truth and
interest, that I must read it to you entire. Gregory gives an
account of his own conversation with the monk Wulfilaich,
doubtless a barbarian, as his name indicates, and who was
i See Gregory of Tours, vol. i. p. 231, 312, in my Collection des Mi-
ywires relatifs a VHistoire de France

70 HISTORY OF
the first in the west to attempt setting up as a rival for
Saint Simeon of Antioch.
"I went into the territory of Treves," says Wulfilaich to
Gregory; " ' I there constructed, with my own hands, upon
this mountain, the little dwelling which you see. I found
there an image of Diana, which the people of the place, stiU
infidels, adored as a divinity. I raised a column upon which
I remained with great suffering, and without any kind of
shoes or stockings; and when the winter season arrived, I was
so affected with the rigours of the frost, that very often the nails
have fallen from my feet, and frozen water has hung from
my beard in the form of candles; for this country has the re
putation of often having very severe winters.' We earnestly
asked him to say what was his nourishment and drink, and
how he had overthrown the idol of the mountain; he said:—
' My food was a little bread and herbs, and a smaU quantity
of water. But a large number of people from the neighbour
ing villages began to flock towards me; I continuaUy preached
to them that Diana did not exist; that the idol and the other
objects to which they thought it their duty to address wor
ship, were absolutely nothing. I also repeated to them that
those canticles which they usually sang while drinking, and
amidst their debaucheries, were unworthy of the Divinity,
and that it would be far better if they offered the sacrifices of
their praises to the all-powerful God who made heaven and
earth; I also often prayed the Lord to deign to overthrow
the idol, and draw these people from their errors. The
mercy of the Lord worked upon those gross minds, and dis
posed them, lending an ear to my words, to quit their idols,
and follow the Lord. I assembled some of them, in order
that I might, with their help, throw down the immense
image which I could not destroy by my own strength. I
had already broken the other idols, which was more easy.
Many assembled around the statue of Diana; they threw
cords around it, and began to pull; but all their efforts could
not break it. I then went to the cathedral, threw myself
upon the ground, and with tears implored the Divine mercy to'
destroy by the powers of Heaven, what earthly efforts did not
suffice to throw down. After my prayer I left the cathedral,
and immediately returned to the labourers; I took the cord,
and we immediately recommenced pulling. At the first

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 71
effort the idol feU to the ground; it was afterwards broken,
and reduced to powder with iron mallets  I felt dis
posed to return to my ordinary way of life; but the bishops,
who wished to strengthen me, in order that I might continue
more perfectly the work which I had commenced, came to
me and said: — ' The way that you have chosen is not the
right way; you are unworthy, and cannot be compared with
Saint Simeon of Antioch, who Uved upon his column. Besides,
the situation of the place does not permit of a like amount of
suffering ; descend rather, and Uve with the brothers that you
have assembled.' At these words, that I might not be ac
cused of disobedience towards the bishop, I descended, and
I went with them, and also took some repast with them. One
day, the bishop having despatched me to some distance from
the village sent labourers with hatchets, chisels, and hammers,
and threw down the column on which I used to live. When
I returned the next day, I found all destroyed; I wept bit
terly; but I did not wish to re-establish what was destroyed,
for fear c f being accused of going against the orders of the
bishops; and from that time I have remained here, and con
tented, myself with living with my brothers.' wl
AU is equally remarkable in this account, both the ener
getic devotion and the inward enthusiasm of the hermit,
and the good sense, perhaps with a touch of jealousy, of the
bishops; we meet in it at once the influence of the east, and
the peculiar character of the west. And as the bishop of
Treves repressed the insanity of the stylites, so Saint Augus
tin assailed hypocrisy wandering under the monkish cloak.
" The subtle enemy of mankind," says he, "has everywhere
dispersed hypocrites under the features of monks; they over
run the provinces, where no one has sent them, wandering in
every direction, not establishing themselves, staying nowhere.
Some go about selling relics of martyrs; that is to say, if
they be relics of martyrs; others show their robes and their
phylacteries !2"
I might cite many other examples in which this two -fold
fact, the resemblance and the difference of the east and
the west, is likewise marked. Amidst these eccentricities,
> Greg, of Tours, vol. i. p. 440—444.
1 Saint Augustin, de Opere Monac. c. 28

72 HISTORY OF
through these alternations of folly and wisdom, the progress of
the monastic institution continued; the number of monks
went on increasing; they wandered or became fixed, they
excited the nation by their preachings, or edified it by the
spectacle of their life. From day to day they received greater
admiration and respect; the idea became established that
this was the perfection of Christian conduct. They were
proposed as models for the clergy; aheady some of them had
been ordained, in order to make them priests or even bishops;
and yet they were still laity, preserving a great degree of
liberty, contracting no kind of religious engagement, always
distinct from the clergy, often even purposely separating
from it.
"It is the ancient advice of the fathers," says Cassier
" advice which endures, that a monk, at any cost, must fly
bishops and women; for neither women, nor bishops, aUow a
monk who has once become familiar with them, to rest in
peace in his cell, nor to fix his eyes on pure and celestial
doctrine, contemplating holy things."1
So much liberty and power, so strong an influence over the
people and such an absence of general forms, of regular organi
zation, could not fail to give rise to great disorder. The
necessity of putting an end to it, of assembling these mis
sionaries, these solitaries, these recluses, these cenobites, who
every day became more numerous, and were neither of the
people nor the clergy, under a common government, under
one discipline, was strongly felt.
Towards the end of the fifth century, in 480, there was
born in Italy, at Nursia, in the duchy of Spoleto, of a wealthy
and considerable family, the man destined to resolve this
problem, to give to the monks of the west the general rule
for which they waited; I speak of Saint Benedict. At the
age of twelve years he was sent to Rome to prosecute his
studies. This was the time of the fall of the Empire, and
the great troubles of Italy; the HeruU and the Ostrogoths
disputed for its possession; Theodoric drove out Odoacer;
Rome was incessantly taken, re-taken, threatened. In 494,
Benedict, scarcely twelve years of age, left it with Cyrilla,
his nurse; and a short time afterwards we find him a hermit
1 Cassien, de Insht, canob. xi. 17.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 73
in the depths of a cavern, at Subiaco, in the Campagna di
Roma. As to why this child retired there, how he lived, nothing is
known; for his legend, our only account, places at every step
a moral wonder, or a miracle, properly so .called. However
this may have been, at the end of a certain period, the Ufe of
Benedict, his youth and his austerities, attracted the shepherds
«f the neighbourhood; he preached to them; and the power
of his word and the authority of his example, the always
numerous concourse of auditors, soon rendered him celebrated.
In 510, the neighbouring monks of Vicovaro wished to
have him for their chief ; he at first refused, telling the
monks that their conduct was disorderly, that they abandoned
themselves in their house to all kinds of excesses, that they
should undertake reformation and submit themselves to a very
severe rule. They persisted, and Benedict became abbot of
Vicovaro. He, in effect, undertook with invincible energy the refor
mation which he had spoken of; as he had foreseen, the monks
were soon tired of a reformer. The struggle between them
and him became so violent that they attempted to poison him
in the chalice. He perceived it by a miracle, says the legend;
quitted the monastery, and retook to his hermit life at
Subiaco. His renown spread far; not only the shepherds, but laymen
of every condition, and wandering monks, assembled to Uve
near him. Equitius and Tertullus, noble Romans, sent their
sons, Maurus and Placidus to him; Maurus at the age of twelve,
Placidus quite an infant. He founded monasteries around
his cavern. In 520, it appears that he had founded twelve,
each composed of twelve monks, in which he began to try
the ideas and institutions by which, in his opinion, the
monastic life should be regulated.
But the same spirit of insubordination and jealousy which
had driven him from the monastery of Vicovaro was soon
manifested in those which he had himself just founded. A
monk named Florentius raised up enemies against him, laid
snares for him. Benedict was irritated, and a second time
renounced the struggle, and, taking some of his disciples,
among others, Maurus and Placidus, he retired, in 528, to
the frontiers of the Abruzzi and the Terra di lavoro, near
Cassino.

74 HISTORY OF
He there found what the hermit Wulfilaich, whose history I
have just mentioned, found near Treves, paganism still in exist
ence, and the temple and statue of Apollo standing on Mount
Cassino, a hill which overlooks the town. Benedict overthrew
the temple and the statue, extirpated paganism, collected
numerous disciples, and founded a new monastery.
It was here, where he remained and ruled to the end of his
life, that he entirely applied himself to, and published, his
Rules of Monastic Life. It soon became, as every one
knows, the general, and almost only law of the monks of
the west. It was by this rule of Saint Benedict that the
western monastical institution was reformed, and received
its definitive form. Let us stop here, then, and examine with
some care this small code of a society which has played so
important a part in the history of Europe.
The author commences by explaining the state of the
western monks at this epoch; that is to say, at the beginning
of the sixth century:
" It is well known," says he, " that there are four kinds
of monks: firstly, the cenobites, those who live in a monas
tery, under a ruler or abbot. The second kind is that of
the anchorites, that is to say, hermits; those who, not from
the fervour of a novice, but by long proof of the monastic
life, have already learned to the great profit of many people,
to combat against the devil, and who, well prepared, go out
alone from the army of their brothers to engage in a single
combat  The third kind of monks is that of the
sarabaites, who, not being tried by any rule, nor by any
lessons of experience, as gold is tried in the furnace, and
similar rather to the soft nature of lead, by their works keep
fealty to the age, and lie to God by their tonsure. We meet
these to the number of two, three, or more, without pastor,
not caring about the sheep of the Lord, but merely their own
particular flock; their law is their desire; what they think or
prefer, that they call holy; what does not please them they
say is not permitted. The fourth kind is that of the monks
who are called gyrovagi, who, during their whole life, inhabit
various cells for three or four days, in various provinces,
always wandering — never settled, obeying the bent of their
luxuries and the debaucheries of gormandizing, and in every
respect worse than the sarabaites. It is much better to hold

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 75
our peace than to speak of their miserable way of life: pass
ing them in silence, let -us, with God's aid, regulate the strong
association of the cenobites."
The facts thus estabUshed, the rule of Saint Benedict is
divided into seventy- three chapters, namely:
Nine chapters concerning the moral and general duties of
the brothers.
Thirteen concerning reUgious duties and offices;
Twenty-nine concerning discipline, faults, penalties, &c. ;
Ten concerning the internal government and administra
tion; Twelve concerning various subjects, as guests, brothers tra
veUing, &c;
That is, — 1. nine chapters on the moral code; 2. thirteen
on the religious; 3. twenty-nine of the penal code or disci
pline; 4. ten of the political code; 5. twelve upon various
subjects. Let us take each of these small codes, and see what princi
ples dominate in them, what was the meaning and compass of
the reformation which their author brought about.
1. With regard to the moral and general duties of monks,
the points' upon which the whole rule of Saint Benedict rests
are, self-denial, obedience, and labour. Some of the monks of
the west had often endeavoured to introduce labour into their
Ufe; but the attempt had never become general, was never fol
lowed up. This was the great revolution which Saint Benedict
made in the monastic institution; he especially introduced
manual and agricultural labour into it. The Benedictine
monks were the agriculturists of Europe; they cleared it
on a large scale, associating agriculture with preaching. A
colony, a swarm of monks, not very numerous at first, trans
ported themselves into uncultivated places, or almost so,
often into the midst of a still pagan population, into Germany,
for example, or Brittany; and there, at once missionaries and
labourers, they accomplished their two-fold task, often at
tended with as much danger as fatigue. This is how Saint
Benedict regulated the employment of the day in his monas
teries; you wiU see that labour there occupied a great place:
" Laziness is the enemy of the soul, and consequently the
brothers should, at certain times, occupy themselves in manual
labour; at others, in holy reading. We think that this should

76 HISTORY OF
be thus regulated. From Easter to the month of October,
after the first prime, they should work, nearly to the fourth
hour, at whatever may be necessary: from the fourth hour,
nearly to the sixth, they shall apply themselves to reading.
After the sixth hour, on leaving the table, they shall repose
quietly in their beds; or if any one wishes to read, let him
read, but in such a manner as not to disturb others: and let
nones be said at the middle of the eighth hour. Let them
work till vespers at whatever there may be to do; and if the
poverty of the place, necessity, or the harvest keep them
constantly employed, let them not mind that, for they are
truly monks if they live by manual labour, as our brothers
the apostles did; but let everything be done with moderation,
for the sake of the weak.
" From the month of October, until the beginning of Lent,
let them be occupied in reading until the second hour; at
the second let them sing tierce, and until nones let all work
at what is enjoined them; at the first stroke of nones let
them quit work and be ready the moment the second stroke
shall sound. After repast, let them read or recite the
psalms. " During Lent, let them read from the morning until the
third hour, and let them then work as they shall be ordered,
until the tenth hour. During Lent, all shall receive books
from the library, which they shall read one after another all
through. These books shall be given at the commencement
of Lent. Especially let one or two ancients be chosen to go
through the monastery at the hours when the brothers are
occupied in reading, and let them see if they find any negligent
brother who abandons himself to repose, or to conversation,
who in no way applies himself to reading, who is not only use
less to himself, but who distracts the others. If one of the kind
is found, let him be reprimanded once or twice; if he do not
amend, let him be subjected to the regulated correction, in
order to intimidate the others. On Sunday let all be occu
pied in reading, except those who are selected for various
functions. If any one be negligent or lazy, so that he neither
wishes nor is able to meditate or read, let some labour be en
joined upon him, so that he may not remain doing nothing.
As regards infirm or delicate brothers, let some work or em
ployment be imposed, so that they may neither be lazy nor

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 77
loaded with the severity of the work  Their weakness
should be taken into consideration by the abbot." ]
Together with labour, Saint Benedict prescribes passive
obedience of the monks to their superiors: a rule less new,
and which prevailed also among the monks of the ea^t, but
which he laid down in a much more express manner, and
more vigorously developing its consequences. It is impos
sible, in studying the history of European civilization, not to
be astonished at the part which is there played by this
idea, and not curiously to seek its origin. Of a surety,
Europe received it neither from Greece, ancient Rome, the
Germans, nor from Christianity, properly so called. It began
to appear under the Roman empire, and arose out of the
worship of the imperial majesty. But it was in the monastic
institution that it was truly aggrandized and developed; it is
from thence that it set out to spread itself into modern civi
lization. That is the fatal present that the monks made to
Europe, and which so long altered or enervated its virtues.
This principle is incessantly repeated in the rule of Saint
Benedict. Many chapters, entitled, De obedientia, de humili-
tate, &c, announce and comment upon it in detail. Here are
two which will show to what a point the rigour of application
was pressed. Chapter sixty-eight, entitled, If a brother is
ordered to do anything impossible, is thus expressed:
" If by chance anything difficult or impossible be imposed
upon a brother, let him receive with all mildness and obedi
ence the command which is imposed upon him. If he sees
that the thing entirely surpasses the extent of his power,
let him explain fitly and patiently to his superior the
reason of the impossibility, not inflamed with pride, not
resisting, not contradicting. If, after his observation, the
prior persists in his opinion and his command, let the disciple
know that it ought to be so, and, confiding in the aid of
God, let him obey."
Chapter sixty-nine is entitled, That in a monastery no one
must defend another, and goes on to say: —
" It is necessary to be very careful that, upon no pretext,
a monk dare in the monastery defend another, or, so to
cpeak, protect him, even when he shall be related by the ties
' Beg. S. Bened. c. 48.

78 HISTORY OF
of blood; let this in no manner be dared by the monks,
because it might lead to grave and scandalous occurrences.
If any one transgress in this, let him be severely repri
manded." Self-denial is the natural consequence of passive obedience.
Whoever is bound to obey absolutely, and on every occasion,
exists not; all personality is torn from him. The rule of Saint
Benedict formally establishes the interdiction of all property
as well as all personal wiU.
" It is especially necessary to extirpate from the monastery,
and unto the very root, the vice of any one possessing
anything in particular. Let no person dare to give or re
ceive without the order of the abbot, nor have -anything of"
his own peculiar property, not a book, nor tablets, nor a
pen, nor anything whatsoever; for it is not permitted them
even to have their body and their wiU under their own
power."1 Can individuality be more completely abolished ?
2. I shall not detain you with the thirteen chapters which,
regulate worship and the religious offices; they do not give
rise to any important observation.
3. Those which treat of discipUne and penalties, on the
contrary, require our best attention. It is here that perhaps
the most considerable of the changes brought about by Saint
Benedict into the monastic institution appears, the introduc
tion of solemn and perpetual vows. Hitherto, although the
entering into the monastery gave reason to presume the in
tention of remaining there, although the monk contracted a
kind of moral obligation which daily tended to take great
fixity, still no vow, no formal engagement, was yet pronounced.
It was Saint Benedict who introduced them, and made them
the basis of the monastic life, of which the primitive character
thus entirely disappeared. This character was exaltation
and liberty ; perpetual vows, which could not long delay being
placed under the care of the public power, substituted a law,
an institution.
" Let him who is to be received," says the rule of Saint
Benedict, " promise in the oratory, before God and his saints,
1 Beg. S. Bened. c.33

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. *~,9
the perpetuity of his stay, the reformation of his manners and
obedience. Let a deed be made of this promise, in the name
of the saints whose relics are deposited there, and in presence
of the abbot. Let him write this deed with his own hand,
or, if he cannot write, let another, at his request, write it for
him, and let the novice put a cross to it, and with his own
hand deposit the deed upon the altar." l
The word novice reveals another innovation to us; a no
viciate was, in fact, the natural consequence of the perpetuity
of vows, and Saint Benedict, who, to an exalted imagination
and an ardent character, joined much good sense, and practical
sagacity, faUed not to prescribe it. Its duration was more
than a year. They read by degrees the whole rule to the
novice, saying to him: " Here is the law under which you
wish to strive; if you can observe it, enter; if you cannot,
go freely." Upon the whole, the conditions and forms of trial
are evidently conceived in a spirit of sincerity, and with
the intention of being weU assured that the wiU of the can
didate was real and strong.
4. As regards the political code, the government itself of
the monasteries, the rule of Saint Benedict offers a singular
mixture of despotism and liberty. Passive obedience, as you
have just seen, is its fundamental principle; at the same time
the government is elective; the abbot is always chosen by the
brothers. When once this choice is made, they lose all
Uberty, they fall under the absolute domination of their su
perior, but of the superior whom they have elected, and of no
other. Moreover, in imposing obedience on the monks, the rule
orders that the abbot consult them. Chapter III., entitled,
That the advice of the brothers must be taken, expressly says:
" Whenever anything of importance is to take place in the
monastery, let the abbot convoke the whole congregation,
and say what the question is, and after having heard the
advice of the brothers, he shaU think of it apart, and shall
do as appears to him most suitable. We say call all tho
brothers to the council, because God often reveals by tho
youngest what is most valuable. Let the brothers givo
» Keg. S. Bened. c. 58.

30 HISTORY OF
their advice in all submission, and let them not venture
to defend it obstinately; let the affair depend upon the will
of the abbot, and let all obey what he thinks beneficial.
But as it is suitable that the disciple should obey the master,
so it is desirable that the latter should regulate all things with
prudence and justice. Let the rule be followed in everything,
and let no one dare to break it.
" If trifling things are to .be done in the interior of the
monastery, let them take the advice of the ancients alone."
Thus in this singular government, election, deliberation,
and absolute power were coexistent.
5. The chapters which treat of various subjects have nothing
remarkable, except a character of good sense and mUdness,
which is also seen in many other parts of the rule, and with
which it is impossible not to be struck. The moral thought
and general discipline of it are severe; but, in the details of
life, it is humane and moderate; more humane, more moderate
than the Roman law, than the barbaric laws, than the general
manners of the times. I do not doubt but that the brothers,
confined within a monastery, were governed by an authority,
upon the whole more reasonable, and in a manner less severe,
than they would have been in civil society.
Saint Benedict was so impressed with the necessity for
a mild and moderate rule, that the preface which he has an
nexed to it finishes with these words:
" We wish thus to institute a school for the service of the
Lord, and we hope we have not put into this institution any
thing harsh or painful; but if, after the council of equity,
anything for the correction of vice, or maintenance of charity,
is found in it which is rather too harsh, do not, alarmed at
that, flee the path of salvation; at its commencement it is
always narrow; but by the progress of a regular life, and faith,
the heart dilates, and runs with an ineffable sweetness into
the way of God's commandments."
It was in 528 that Saint Benedict gave forth his rule: in
543, the time of his death, it had already spread into all parts
of Europe. Saint Placidus carried it into Sicily, others into
Spain. Saint Maurus, the cherished disciple of Saint Benedict,
introduced it into France. At the request of Innocent,
bishop of Mans, he set out from Mount Cassino at the end of
the year 542, while Saint Benedict still lived. When he

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 81
arrived at Orleans, in 543, Saint Benedict no longer lived,
but the institution did not the less pursue its course. The
first monastery founded by Saint Maur was that of Glanfeuil,
in Anjou, or Saint Maur-sur-Loire. At the end of the sixth
century, the greater part of the French monasteries had
adopted the same rule; it had become the general system of
the monastic order, so that towards the end of the eighth
century, Charlemagne caused it to be asked in the various
parts of his'empire, if there existed any other kind of monks
than those of the order of Saint Benedict?
We have as yet not studied more than half, so to speak, of
the revolutions of the monastic institutions at this epoch, its
internal revolutions, the changes in the regime and legislation
of monasteries, their relations on the one hand with the state,
on the other with the clergy, their situation in civil society,
and in ecclesiastical society. This will form the subject ol
our next lecture.

vol; ii.

fa2 HISTORY OP

FIFTEENTH LECTURE.

The relations of the monks with, the clergy, from the fourth to the. eighth
century — Their primitive independence — Causes of its decline — 1.' In
proportion as the numher and the power of the monks were augmented,
the bishops extended their jurisdiction over them — Canons of the
councils — 2. The monks demand and ohtain privileges — 3. They aspire
to enter into the clergy — Differences and contests among the monks
themselves upon this subject — The bishops at first repulse their preten
sions — They give way to them — In entering into the clergy the monks lose
their independence — Tyranny of the bishops over the monasteries — Re
sistance of the monks — Charters granted by the bishops to some monas
teries — The monks have recourse to the protection of the kings, to
that of the popes — Character and limits of the intervention — Similarity
between the struggle of the monasteries against the bishops and that of
the commons against the feudal lords.
We have studied the internal system of monasteries from
the fourth to the eighth century; at present let us occupy our
selves with their external condition in the church in general,
with their relations with the clergy.
As people have been deceived as to the internal state and
system of monasteries, by forgetting the primitive charac
ter of monks, who were at first laymen and not ecclesiastics,
so have they been greatly deceived concerning their situation
in the church, by forgetting their equally primitive character,
which was liberty, independence.
The foundation of a great number of monasteries belonged •
to an epoch, when the monks were already, and for a long
time had been, incorporated with the clergy; many were
founded by a patron, lay or ecclesiastical, sometimes a bishop,
sometimes a king, or a great nobleman; and we see them,

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE S3
irom their very origin, subject to an authority to which they
owed their existence.
It is supposed that it had always been thus, that all the
monasteries had been the creation of some will foreign and
superior to that of the congregation itself, and which, more
or less, had retained its influence. This is entirely to over
look the primitive situation of these establishments, and the
true mode of their formation.
The first monasteries were not founded by any one, — they
founded themselves. They were not, as at a later period,
the pious work of some rich and powerful man who was
desirous of building an edifice, joining a church to it, endow
ing it, and calling other men to it, in order that they might
there lead a religious life. The monastical associations formed
themselves spontaneously, among equals, by the impulsive
movement of soul, and without any other aim than that of
satisfying it. The monks preceded the monastery, its edifices,
its church, its endowment; they united, each of his own will,
and on his own account, without depending upon any one be
yond, as free as they were disinterested.
In meeting, they naturally found themselves, in alb that re
lated to manners, to doctrines, to religious practices, placed
under the inspection of the bishops. The secular clergy ex
isted before the monasteries; it was organised; it had rights,
a recognised authority; the monks were subject to it, like
other Christians. The moral and religious life of the faithful
was the object of episcopal inspection and censure; that of
the monks was in the same case: the bishop was not invested
with any jurisdiction with regard to them, with any par
ticular authority; they were in the general condition of
the laity — living, however, in great independence, electing
their superiors, administering the property which they pos
sessed in common, without any obligation to any one, without
any burden upon any one, governing themselves, in a word,
as they chose.
Their independence, and the analogy between their situa
tion and the rest of the laity was such, that they had no par
ticular church, for instance, no church attached to their
monastery, no priest who celebrated Divine service for then.
especially; they went to the church of the neighbouring cify
o2

84 HISTORY OF
or parish, Uke aU the faithful, united to the mass of the po
pulation. This was the primitive state of the monasteries, the start
ing point of their relations with the clergy. They did not
long remain there: many causes soon concurred to change their
independence, and unite them more intimately with the eccle
siastical corporation. Let us attempt to recognise them, and
to mark the various degrees of their transition.
The number and power of the monks continually increased.
When I say power, I speak of their influence, their moral action
on the public: for power, properly so caUed, legal, constituted
power, the monks were entirely without; but their influence
was daily more visible and more strong. For this reason
alone, they attracted a more assiduous and attentive inspec
tion on the part of the bishops. The clergy very quickly un
derstood that it had in them, either formidable rivals, or useful
instruments. They applied themselves, therefore, at an early
period to confine them, and to make use of them. The eccle
siastical history of the fifth century attests the continual
efforts of the bishops to extend and to confirm their juris
diction over the monks. The general inspection which they
had a right to exercise over all the faithful, furnished them
with a thousand occasions and means. The very Uberty en
joyed by the monks lent them aid, for it gave rise to many
disorders; and the episcopal authority was, of all others, most
naturally called upon to interfere for their repression. It inter
posed, therefore, and the acts of the councils of the fifth century
abound in canons, whose only object is to confirm and esta
blish the jurisdiction of the bishops over monasteries. The
most fundamental is a canon of the oecumenical council held
at Chalcedonia in 451, and which enacts:
" Those who have sincerely and really embraced the solitary
life shall be suitably honoured; but as some, under the ap
pearance and name of monks, disturb civil and ecclesiastical
affairs, overrunning towns, and attempting even to institute
monasteries for themselves, it has pleased us to order that
no one build or found a monastery without the consent of the
bishop. " Monks, in every city or district, shall be subject to the
bishop, remain tranquil, only apply themselves to fastings and
prayer, and " ' win in the place where they have renounced the

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 85
world. Let them not meddle with ecclesiastical and civil
affairs, and interfere in nothing out of doors, and not quit
their monasteries, unless, for some necessary work, it be so
ordered by the bishop of the city."1
This text proves that, hitherto, the greater part of the mo
nasteries were freely founded by the monks themselves; but
this fact was already considered as an abuse, and the autho
rity of the bishop was formally required. Its necessity, in
fact, became a law, and we read in the canons of the council
of Agde, held in 506 :
" We forbid that new monasteries be founded without the
consent of the bishop."2
In 511, the council of Orleans orders:
" Let the abbots, according to the humility which is suit
able to the religious life, be subject to the power of the
bishops; and if they do anything against the rule, let them
be reprimanded by the bishops; and being convoked, they
shall meet once a year in the place chosen by the bishop."3
Here the bishop goes further, he makes himself the ruling
minister even in the interior of monasteries ; it was not from
him that they held it ; he was not the monastical legislative
power ; but he took the right of surveying the execution of
the law there.
The same council adds : " Let no monk, abandoning,
through ambition or vanity, the congregation of the monas
tery, dare to construct a separate cell without the permission
of the bishop, or the consent of his abbot."4
New progress of the episcopal authority: hermits, ancho
rites, recluses, attracted more admiration and popular favour
than the cenobites: the most zealous monks were always dis
posed to quit the interior of the monasteries in order to give
themselves up to these proud austerities. For some time
no authority interfered to prevent it, not even that of the
abbot ; you now see the repressive power sanctioned, not
only that of the abbot, but of the bishop; he, too, charged
both with keeping the monks within the interior of the house,
and with repressing the external effects of exaltation.
1 Coun. of Chalcedonia, in 451. c. 4. 2 Ib. o. 58.
• Ib. c. 19. * Coun. of Orleans, c. 22.

86 HISTORY OF
Iii 352, a new council of Orleans decrees :
" Let abbots who slight the orders of the bishops, not 1;C
admitted, unless they humbly retract this rebellion."1
And a year afterwards:
" Let the monastery and the discipline of monks be under
the authority of the bishop of the district in which they are
situated. " Let it not be permitted to abbots to go far from their
monastery without the permission of the bishop. If they do
so, let them be regularly corrected by their bishop, according
to the ancient canons.
" Let the bishops take under their care, nunneries esta
blished in their city; and let them not allow any abbess to do
aught against the rule of her monastery."2
When all these rules were proclaimed, although they did
not contain anything very precise, although, as you see, the
jurisdiction of the bishops was not exactly determined, still
it was established; it interfered in the principal points of
the existence of the monks, in the foundation of monaste
ries, in the observation of their discipline, in the duties of the
abbots; and, recognised in principle, although often repulsed
in fact, it strengthened itself by exercise.
The monks themselves concurred to its progression. When
'they had acquired more importance, they claimed a separate
existence. They complained of being assimilated with the
simple laity, and confounded with the mass of the faithful; they
desired to be established as a distinct corporation, a positive
institution. Independence and influence were not sufficient
for them — privilege was necessary. Now, from whom could
they obtain it, except from the clergy? The authority of
the bishops could alone constitute them separate from the re
ligious society in general, and privilege them in its bosom.
They demanded these privileges, and obtained them, but by
paying for them. There was one, for instance, very simple,
that of not going to the church of the parish, of construct
ing one in the interior of the monastery, and there cele
brating divine service. They granted it to them without
difficulty; but it was necessary that priests should do duty
1 Coun. of Orleans, c. 22. » Coun. of Orleans, in 554, «. ], 2, 3. 5.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 87
in these churches; now the monks were not priests, and had
not the right of doing duty. They gave them priests, and
the external clergy from that time had a place in the in
terior of monasteries; men were there sent from it as delegates,
inspectors. By this fact alone, the independence of the monks
already endured a serious blow: they saw, and attempted to
remedy, the evil; they demanded that instead of priests sent
from without, the bishop should ordain some monks priests.
The clergy consented to it, and under the name of hiero-
monachi, the monasteries had priests chosen from out of their
own body. They were rather less strangers than those who
came from without, but still they belonged to the secular
clergy, took its spirit, associated themselves with its interests,
separated themselves more or less from their brothers; and
by this simple distinction, established between the simple
monks and the priests, between those who were present at
the service, and those who performed it, the monastic in
stitution aheady lost part of its independence and of its homo
geneity. , The loss was so real that more than one superior of a mo
nastery, more than one abbot perceived it, and attempted to
repair it, at least to limit it. The rules of many monastic
orders speak of priests established in the monastery with dis
trust, and apply themselves sometimes to restrain their number,
sometimes the influence of them.
Saint Benedict in his formally inserted two chapters on
this subject:
" If an abbot," says he, " wishes to have a priest or a dea
con ordained for him, let him select from among his people
one who is worthy to perform the sacerdotal functions. But
let him who is ordained guard against all pride, and let him
not contend against anything which shall be enjoined him by
the abbot ; let him know that he is even more subject to the
regular discipline than any other; that the priesthood is not a
reason for him to forget obedience and rule; but let him more
and more advance in God, and always keep to the func
tions by which he entered into the monastery, except the
duties of the altar, when even, by choice of the congregation,
and the will of the abbot, he shall be, by reason of the merits
of his life, raised to a more elevated rank. Let him know

88 HISTORY OF
that he must observe the rule established by the deans and
priors ; that if he dare to act otherwise, he shall not be
judged as a priest, but as arebel. And if, after having been
frequently warned, he does not correct himself, let the
bishop himself be called as witness. If he do not amend, and
his faults be glaring, let him be driven from the monastery,
in case he will not still submit, nor obey the rule."1
" If any one of the order of priests ask to be received into
the monastery, let it not be immediately consented to; if he
persist in his request, let him know that he shall submit to
the whole discipline and rule, and that nothing shall be
abated him."2
This rather jealous fear, this vigilance to repress the
arrogance of priests, to subject them to the Ufe of monks,
was also manifested elsewhere, and by other symptoms; they
only the better prove the progress of the external clergy in
the interior of monasteries, and the danger in which it placed
their ancient independence.
It had to submit to an entirely different check. Not con
tent with being separated from the lay society, and being
raised above it by their privileges, the monks conceived the
ambition of entering fully into the ecclesiastical society, of
participating in the privileges and power of the clergy.
This ambition was shown in the monastical institution at a
very early period. It was not approved of by all. The
exalted and austere monks, those whose imagination was
strongly filled with the hoUness of the monastic life, and
aspired to all its glories, were averse to receiving the sacred
orders. Some regarded the clerical as a worldly life, which
deterred them from the contemplation of divine things;
the others thought themselves unworthy of the priesthood,
and did not find themselves in a sufficiently perfect state to
celebrate divine service. Hence arose some singular inci
dents in the relations between the monks and the clergy.
In the fourth century, while Saint Epiphanus was bishop in
the island of Cyprus, there was a monk in the island named
Paulinianus, celebrated for his virtues, and in great reputa
tion for sanctity. They frequently proposed making him a
priest; he always declined, saying that he was not worthy
1 Beg. S. Bened c. 02. 2 Ib. t. CO.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 89
of it; but Saint Epiphanus positively insisted upon consecrat
ing him. He proceeded in the fallowing manner: it is himself
who gives the account:
" While they celebrated mass in the church of a viUage
near our monastery, without his being aware of it, or in
the least expecting it, we had him seized by a number of
deacons, and had his mouth held, for fear that, wishing to
escape, he should adjure us in the name of Christ. We at
first ordained him deacon, and summoned him, by the
fear he had for God, to fulfil the office. He strongly re
sisted, maintaining that he was unworthy. It was almost
necessary to force him, for we had great difficulty in per
suading him by testimonies of the Writings, and in citing
the commands of God. And when he had performed the
duties of deacon in the holy sacrifice, we again had his mouth
held, with great difficulty; we ordained him priest, and, for
the same reasons which we had already impressed upon him,
we decided him to take a place among the priests."1
They rarely came to such violent extremities; but I might
cite many other examples of monks who were sincerely re
pugnant to becoming priests, and obstinately refused.
Such, however, was far from being their general character.
The greater part were very anxious to enter into orders, for
the clergy was the superior body: to be received into its
bosom was to be raised. " If the desire to become a priest
excite you," says Saint Jerome to a monk, " learn, that you
may be able to teach; pretend not to be a soldier without
having been a militiaman, and a master before having been a
disciple."2 In fact, the desire to become priests so keenly
excited the monks, that Cassienus ranks it among the tempta
tions with which the demon pursued them, and especially
among those which he attributes^ to the demon of vain glory.
" Sometimes," says he, " the demon of vain glory inspires
a monk with a desire for the degrees of the clergy, the priest
hood, or the deaconship. According to him, if he be in
vested with it, despite himself, he will fill the duties with so
much rigour, that he might offer examples of holiness even
to other priests, and might gain many people over to the
i Saint Epiphanus, lett. to John, bishop of Jerusalem, vol. ii. p. 312.
1 Saint Jerome, lett. 4, ad Busticum.

90 HISTORY OF
church, not only by his admirable way of living, but by his
doctrine and discourses." J And he relates the following
anecdote upon this subject — a singular proof, truly, of the
passion with whi'jh certain monks aspired to become priests,
and of the empire which this desire possessed over their
imagination: '¦ I remember," says he, " that during my stay in the
solitude of Scythia, an old man told me, that going one day
to the cell of a certain brother, to visit him, as he approached
the door, he heard him within pronouncing certain words;
he stopped a little, wishing to know what he read of the
Scripture, or else what he repeated from, memory, according
to usage. And as this pious spy curiously listened, with his
ear at the door, he perceived that the spirit of vain glory
tempted the brother, for he spoke as if he addressed a sermon
to the people in the church. The old man still stopped, and
he heard that the brother, after having finished his sermon,
changed his office, and did the duties of deacon at the mass of
the catechumens. He at last knocked at the door, and the
brother came to meet him with his accustomed veneration,
and introduced him into his cell. Then, rather troubled in
his conscience at the thoughts which had occupied him, he
asked him how long he had been there, fearing, without
doubt, that he had insulted him by keeping him waiting at
the door; and the old man answered, smiling: ' I arrived
just as you celebrated the mass of the catechumens.' "
Of a surety men preoccupied to such a degree by such a
desire, would unhesitatingly have sacrificed their independence
to it. Let us see how they attained their end, and what re
sult this success had for them.
The clergy at first looked upon the ambition of the monks
with a good deal of jealousy and distrust. At the fourth cen
tury, some bishops, more vigorous and discerning than others,
or with some particular end in view, received them favour
ably. Saint Athanasius, for example, bishop of Alexandria,
engaged in his great contest against the Arians, visited
the monasteries of Egypt, loaded the monks with distinc
tion, and selected many to ordain as priests, and even to
make bishops of. The monks were orthodox, eager, popular.
1 Cassienus, de Goznob. inst. xi. 14. ' Ibid. 15.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 91
Athanasius saw that in them he should have powerful
and devoted allies. His example was followed by some
bishops in the west, especially by Saint Ambrose at Milan,
and by Eusebius, bishop of Verceil. But the episcopacy in
general behaved differently; it continued to treat the preten
sions of the monks coldly, scornfully, and to combat them
underhand. Proofs of it are in writing down to the seventh
century. At the end of the fourth, for example, the bishop
of Rome, Saint Siricius (384 — 398), allowed holy orders to be
conferred upon them, but with many stipulations, lest too
large a number of monks should penetrate into the clergy. In
the middle of the foUowing century, Saint Leo (440 — 460)
engaged Maximus, patriarch of Antioch, not too easily to
allow permission to preach to the monks of his diocese, even
to the most holy, because their preaching might have serious
consequences for the influence of the clergy. At the end of
the sixth century, Saint Gregory the Great recommended the
bishops to ordain monks as parish priests but rarely, and to
employ them with reserve. Upon the whole, amidst even the
favours which it exhibits -towards them, the episcopacy always
shows itself jealous of the monks, and incUned to separate
them from the clergy.
But the progress of their popularity surmounted this
secret resistance. It was soon acknowledged that theirs, of
all lives, was the Christian life; that it surpassed in merit
that of the external clergy, who could not do better than
imitate them, and that a priest, or even a bishop, in becoming
a monk, advanced in the paths of holiness and salvation.
The councils themselves, composed of bishops, proclaimed
these maxims:
" If priests," says a council of Toledo, " desiring to follow
a better life, wish to embrace the rule of the monks, let the
bishop give them free access into the monasteries, and in no
way obstruct the design of those who wish to give themselves
up to contemplation."1
When they were generally recognised, there was no longer
any means of resisting the invasion of the monks, nor of
parsimoniously granting them the priesthood and episco
pacy. At the commencement of the seventh century, Boni-
1 Coun. of Toledo, in 033, c. GO.

92 HISTORY OF
face IV. proclaims that they are plus quam idonei, more than
fitted for aU the functions of the clergy ; and gradually
events and minds progressed in this direction ; the monke
found themselves incorporated in trie ciergy; and while
preserving a distinct existence, associated on every occasion
with its privileges and power. It is impossible to determine
exactly the date of this admission; it was progressive, and
for a long time incomplete; even in the eighth century, the
monks were at times still called laymen, and considered as
such. Still it may be said that, about the end of the sixth
and at the beginning of the seventh century, the revolution
for which they had laboured from the end of the fourth cen
tury was consummated. Let us see what were the results of
it, as regards their external condition, what was the condition
of the monks in the clergy, when they decidedly formed a
part of it.
It is evident that they must have lost there a great deal of
independence, and that the authority of the bishops over
monasteries was necessarily extended and confirmed. You
know what the power of the episcopacy was over parish
priests from the seventh to the eighth century. The fortune
of monks was no better. Those little associations which we
have just seen so independent, over which the bishops had
scarcely a moral jurisdiction, which they laboured with so
much care to draw beneath their empire, see how they were
treated at the seventh century. I shall leave the councils to
speak for themselves:
" It has been given out at the present council that monks,
by order of the bishops, are subject to servile labours, and
that, against the canonical orders, the rights of monasteries
are usurped with an illegitimate audacity; so that a monas
tery becomes almost a domain, and that illustrious part of the
body of Christ is almost reduced to ignominy and servitude.
We therefore warn the chiefs of the churches that they no
longer commit anything of the kind; and that the bishops do
nothing in monasteries except what the canons direct them,
that is, exhort the monks to a holy life, appoint the abbots
and other officers, and reform such things as shaU be against
rule."1 1 Coun. of Toledo, in 633; c. 51.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 93
" As regards presents that are made to a monastery, let
not the bishops touch them."1
" A most deplorable thing there is, which we are forced to
extirpate by a severe censure. We have learnt that certain
bishops unjustly establish as prelates in certain monasteries
some of their relations or favourites, and procure them ini
quitous advantages, to the end that they may receive, through
them, both what is in fact regularly due to the bishop of the
diocese, and aU that the violence of the exactor whom they
have sent can seize from the monasteries."2
I might greatly multiply these quotations: all would equally
attest that, at this epoch, the monasteries were subjected to
an odious tyranny on the part of the bishops.
They, however, had means of resistance, and they made use
of them. In order to explain the nature of these means
satisfactorily, allow me to leave the monks for a moment, and
call your attention to an analogous fact, and one much better
known. Every one is aware that, from the eighth to the tenth cen
tury, the cities, large or small, which stUl existed in Gaul,
were induced to enter into the feudal society, to assume the
characteristics of the new system, to take a place in its
hierarchy, to contract its obligations in order to possess its
rights, to live under the patronage of a lord. This patronage
was harsh, oppressive, and the cities impatiently supported
its weight. At a very early period, when they first en
gaged in feudalism, they attempted to shake it off, to regain
some independence. What were their means ? In the
boroughs there was the wreck of the ancient municipal
system: in their miserable condition, they still selected some
obscure magistrates : some property remained to them ;
they administered this property themselves : in a word,
they preserved, in some respects, an existence distinct from
that which they had assumed in entering the feudal society,
an existence which was connected with institutions, with
principles, and with a social state, all of them entirely dif
ferent. These remains of their ancient existence, these
wrecks of the municipal system, became the fulcrum by the
aid Of which the boroughs struggled against the feudal master
» Coun. of Lerida, in 524, c. "3. 2 Coun of Toledo, in 655, c. 3.

94 HISTORY- OF
who had invaded them, and progressively regained some
degree of liberty
An analogous fact was brought about in the history of
monasteries, and of their relations with the clergy. You have
just seen the monks entering into the ecclesiastical society,
and falling under the authority of the bishops, as the com
mons entered at a later period into the feudal society, and
fell under the authority of the lords. But the monks also
retained some of their primitive existence, of their original
independence; for example, they had had domains given them:
these domains were not confounded with those of the bishop
in whose diocese the monastery was situated; they were not
lost in the mass of church property of which the bishop had
the sole administration; they remained the distinct and per
sonal property of each establishment. The monks accord
ingly continued to exercise some of their rights; the election
of their abbot and other monastic affairs, the interior adminis
tration of the monastery, &c. In the same way, therefore, as
the boroughs retained some wreck of the municipal system,
and of their property, and made use of them in order to
struggle against feudal tyranny, so did the monks preserve
some remnants of their internal constitution and of their pro
perty, and made use of them in struggling against episcopal
tyranny. So that the boroughs followed the route and in the
steps of the monasteries; not that they imitated them, but
because the same situation led to the same results.
Let us follow in its vicissitudes the resistance of the monks
against the bishops; we shall see this analogy developed more
and more.
The contest was at first limited to complaints, to protesta
tions, carried either before the bishop himself, or before the
councils. Sometimes the councils received them, and issued
canons to put a stop to the evil: I have just read to you texts
which prove it. But a written remedy is of little efficacy.
The monks felt the necessity of recurring to some other means.
They openiy resisted their bishop; they refused to obey his
injunctions, to receive him in the monastery; more than once
they repulsed his envoys by force of arms. Still their resist
ance weighed heavily upon them; the bishop excommunicated
them, interdicted their priests: the struggle was grievous
for all. They treated. The monks promised to resume

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 95
order, to make presents to the bishop, to cede to him some
part of the domain, if he was willing to promise to respect
the monastery thenceforward, not to pillage their property, to
leave them in peaceful enjoyment of their rights. The bishop
consented, and gave a charter to the monastery. They are
regular charters, these immunities, these privileges conferred
upon monasteries by their bishop, the use of which became
so frequent that we find an official compilation of them in the
Formula of Marculf. I wiU read it: you will be struck with
the character of these acts:
" To the holy lord and brother in Christ, the abbot of 
or to the whole congregation of  monastery, built at 
by  , in honour of Saint  , bishop,  . The
love which we bear you has impeUed us, by Divine inspira •
tion, to regulate for your repose things which assure us
eternal recompence, and, without turning us from the right
road, or overstepping any limit, to establish rules which
may obtain by the aid of the Lord an eternal duration, for
we do not insure the least recompence from God in applying
ourselves to what must come to pass in future times, without
giving succour to the poor in the present time. . . . We think
it our duty to insert in this sheet what you and your successors
should do with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, or rather
that to which the bishop of the holy church himself is bound ;
namely, that those of your congregation who are to exercise
the holy services in your monastery, when they shall be pre
sented by the abbot and all the congregation, receive from
us or our successors the sacred orders, without making any
gift for this honour; that the said bishop, out of respect for
the place, and without receiving any recompence, consecrate
the altar of the monastery, and grant, if it be demanded
of him, tbe holy oil each year; and when, by Divine will,
one abbot shall pass from the monastery to God, let the bishop
of the place, without expecting recompence, elevate to the
rank of abbot, the monk most remarkable for the merits of
his Ufe, whom he shall find selected by the brethren. And
let them take nothing which has been offered by God-fearing
men to the abbey. And unless requested by the congre
gation or the abbot, to go there for the sake of prayer, let
none of us enter into the interior of a monastery, nor over
Step its enclosure. And if, after- having been begged so tu

96 HISTORY OF
do by the monks, the bishop come for the purposes of prayer,
or to be useful to them in anything, after the celebration of
the holy mysteries, and after having received simple and
brief thanks, let him set about regaining his dwelling without
being required so to do by any one, so tnat the monks who
are accounted solitaries may, with the help of God, pass the
time in perfect tranquillity, and that, living under a holy rule,
and imitating the holy fathers, they may the more perfectly
implore God for the good of the church, and the salvation of
the country. And if any monks of this order conduct them
selves with indifference, and not as they should, if it is neces
sary let them be corrected according to rule by their abbot;
if not, the bishop of the town must restrain them, in order that
the canonical authority be deprived of nothing which tends
to the repose of the servants of the faith. If any of our
successors, (which God forbid,) full of perfidy, and impelled
by cupidity, desire, in a spirit of audacity, to violate the
things herein contained, overwhelmed by the blow of divine
vengeance, let him be anathematized and excluded from the
communion of the brotherhood for three years, and let this
privilege be not the less eternally immovable for his conduct.
In order that this constitution may remain always in vigour,
we and our brothers, the lords bishops, have confirmed it
with our signatures.
" Done, this  day of  the year of our Lord  ."'
When we come to the history of the commons, you will
see that many of the charters which they wrested from their
lords, seem to have been framed upon this model.
It happened to the monasteries as it was afterwards to hap
pen to the commons : their privileges were constantly violated
er altogether abohshed. They were obliged to have recourse
to a higher guarantee, and they invoked that of the king: a
natural pretext presented itself; the kings themselves founded
monasteries, and in founding them took some precautions for
shielding them from the tyranny of the bishops; they retained
them under their especial protection, and prohibited any usur
pation of the property or rights of the monks on the part of the
bishops. Thus originated the intervention of royalty between
the monasteries and the clergy. By and bye, monasteriai
' Marculf, b". i. f. 1

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE 97
which had not been founded by kings had recourse to their
protection, and attained it for money or some other consider
ation. The kings in no way interfered with the jurisdiction
of the bishops, they disputed none of their religious rights;
the protection accorded by them had exclusive reference to
monastic property; as this protection was more or less effica
cious, the bishops used every effort to elude it; they refused
to recognise the letters of protection and immunity granted by
the king; sometimes they falsified them by the assistance of
some treacherous brother, or even wholly abstracted them
from the archives of the monastery. After a while, in order
more fully to possess themselves of the constantly augment
ing wealth of these establishments, they thought of another
plan: they procured their own nomination as abbots of the
more valuable monasteries : an opening to this encroachment
presented itself; many monks had become bishops, and for the
most part, bishops of the diocese in which their own mo
nastery was situated; in this monastery they had taken care
to keep up friends, partizans; and the post of abbot becom
ing vacant, frequently found no difficulty in securing it for
themselves. Thus, at once bishops and abbots, they gave
themselves up without restraint to the most monstrous abuses.
The monasteries in every direction were sorely oppressed,
were recklessly despoiled by their heads; the monks looked
around for a new protector, they addressed themselves to the
pope. Thepapalpower had been long strengthening and extend
ing itself, and it eagerly availed itself of every opportunity of
still further extending itself; it interposed as royalty had in
terposed, keeping, at all events for a long time, within the same
limits, making no attempt to narrow the spiritual jurisdiction
of the bishops, and abridging them of no spiritual right; ap
plying itself only to repress their aggressions upon property
and persons, and to maintain inviolate the established monas
tic rules. The privileges granted by the popes to certain
monasteries of Frankish-Gaul previously to the commence
ment of the eighth century kept strictly within these limits,
in no case removing them from the episcopal to the papal
jurisdiction. The monastery of Fulda presents us with the
first instance of such a transfer, and this took place by the con
sent of the bishop of the diocese, Saint Boniface, who himself
placed the monastery under the direct authority of the holy
vol. II. a

98 HISTORY OF
see. This is the first instance of such a proceeding that we
meet with; neither popes nor kings had ever before inter
fered, except for the purpose of keeping the bishops within
the just limits of their authority.
Such were the changes through which, in the interval I
have described, the monastic associations passed, in their re
lations with the clergy. Their original condition was that of
independence; this independence was lessened the moment
that they obtained from the clergy some of the privileges
wliich they had solicited from that body. The privileges so
obtained, only served to augment their ambition: they became
bent upon entering the ecclesiastical corporation: they did
enter it, after a while, and found themselves thenceforward
subject, like the priests, to the ill-defined, the unlimited
authority of the bishops. The bishops abused their authority,
the monasteries resisted, and in virtue of what still remained
to them of their original independence, procured guarantees,
charters. The charters being slighted, the monks had recourse
to the civil authority, to royalty, and royalty confirmed the
charters, and took the monks under its protection. This
protection proving inadequate, the monks next addressed
themselves to the pope, who interposed by another title, but
without any more decisive success. It is in this struggle of
royal and papal protection against episcopal tyranny, that we
leave the monasteries in the middle of the eighth century.
Under the Carlovingian race, they had to experience still
more terrible shocks, assaults which it required their utmost
efforts to overcome. We will speak of these at the proper
time; at present, the analogy between the history of the
monasteries and that of the commons, which manifested itself
two centuries later, is the fact which most pecuUarly calls for
an observation.
We have now completed the history of social civilization,
from the sixth to the middle of the eighth century. We have
gone through the revolutions of civil and of religious society,—
viewed each of them in their various elements. We have
still to study the history, during the same period, of purely
intellectual and moral CiviUzation; of the ideas which then
occupied men's minds, the works which these ideas gave birth
to — in a word, the philosophical and literary history of France
at this epoch. We will enter upon this study in our next
lecture.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. &9

SIXTEENTH LECTURE.

From the sixth to the eighth century all profane literature disappeared •
sacred literature alone remained — This is evident in the schools and
writings of this epoch — 1 . Of the schools in Gaul from the sixth to the
eighth century — Cathedral schools — Eural schools — Monastic schools —
What they taught there — 2. Of the writings of the day — General cha
racter of literature — It ceased to be speculative, and to seek more especi
ally science and intellectual enjoyments ; it became practical ; knowledge,
eloquence, writings, were made means of action — Influence of this charac
teristic upon the idea formed of the intellectual state at this epoch: — It
produced scarcely any works, it has no literature properly so called; still
minds were active — Its literature consists in sermons and legends —
Bishops and missionaries — 1st, Of Saint Cesaire, bishop of Aries — Of
his sermons — 2nd, Of Saint Columban, missionary, and abbot of Luxeuil
— Character of sacred eloquence at this epoch.
In studying the state of Gaul at the fourth and fifth cen
turies,1 we found two literatures, the one sacred, the other
profane. The distinction was marked in persons and in
things; the laity and the ecclesiastics studied, meditated,
wrote; and they studied, they wrote, they meditated, upon
lay subjects, and upon religious subjects. Sacred literature
dominated more and more, but it was not alone, profane
Uterature still existed.
From the fourth to the eighth century, there is no longer
any profane literature; sacred literature stands alone; priests
only study or write; and they only study, they only write,
save some rare exceptions, upon religious subjects. The
general character of the epoch is the concentration of intel
lectual development in the religious sphere. The fact is
1 Lecture 4th, vol. i. p. 346—389.
h2

100 HISTORY OF
evident, whether we regard the state of the schools which stiU
existed, or the works which have come down to us.
The fourth and fifth centuries, you will remember, were in
no want of civil schools, of civil professors, instituted by the
temporal power, and teaching the profane sciences. All
those great schools of Gaul, the organization and names of
which I have mentioned to you, were of this description. I
have even pointed out to you, that as yet there were no
ecclesiastical schools, and that religious doctrines, which
daily became more powerful over minds, were not regularly
taught, had no legal and official organ. Towards the end
of the sixth century, everything is changed: there are no
longer civil schools; ecclesiastical schools alone subsist. Those
great municipal schools of Treves, of Poictiers, of Vienne, of
Bordeaux, &c, have disappeared; in their place have arisen
schools called cathedral or episcopal schools, because each
episcopal see had its own. The cathedral school was not
always alone; we find in certain dioceses other schools, of an
uncertain nature and origin, wrecks, perhaps, of some ancient
civil school, which, in becoming metamorphosed, had perpetu
ated itself. In the diocese of Reims, for example, there ex
isted the school of Mouzon, some distance from the chief
place of the diocese, and in high credit, although Reims had
a cathedral school. The clergy began also, about the' same
epoch, to create other schools in the country, also ecclesi
astical, destined to form young readers who should one day
become priests. In 529, the council of Vaison strongly re
commended the propagation of country schools; they were,
indeed, multiplied very irregularly, numerous in some dioceses,
scarcely any in others. Finally, there were schools in the
great monasteries: the intellectual exercises were of two kinds;
some of the most distinguished monks gave direct instruc
tion to the members of the congregation, and to the young
people who were being brought up at the monastery; it was,
moreover, the custom, in a large number of monasteries, that
after the lectures at which the monks were bound to attend,
they should have conferences among themselves upon what
ever had been made the subject of the lecture; and these con
ferences became a powerful means of inteUectual development
and instruction.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 101
_ The most flourishing of the episcopal schools from the
sixth to the middle of the eighth century were those of :
1. Poictiers. There were many schools in the monasteries
of the diocese, at Poictiers itself, at Liguge, at Ansion, &c.
2. Paris.
3. Le Mans.
4. Bourges.
5 Clermont. There was another school in the town where
they taught the Theodosian code; a remarkable circumstance,
which I do not find elsewhere.
6. Vienne.
7. Chalons-sur- Saone.
8. Aries.
9. Gap.
The most flourishing of the monastic schools of the same
epoch were those of :
1. Luxeuil, in Franche-Comte.
2. Fontenelle, or Saint Vandrille, in Normandy; in which
were about 300 students.
3. Sithiu, in Normandy.
4. Saint Medard, at Soissons.
5. Lerens.
It were easy to extend this list; but the prosperity of mo
nastic schools was subject to great vicissitudes; they flourished
under a distinguished abbot, and declined under his suc
cessor. Even in nunneries, study was not neglected; that which
Saint Cesaire founded at Aries contained, at the commence
ment of the sixth century, two hundred nuns, for the most
part occupied in copying books, sometimes religious books,
sometimes, probably, even the works of the ancients.
The metamorphosis of civil schools into ecclesiastical schools
was complete. Let us see what was taught in them. We
shall often find in them the names of sciences formerly professed
in the civil schools, rhetoric, logic, grammar, geometry, astro
logy, &c; but these were evidently no longer taught except
in their relations to theology. This is the foundation of the
instruction: all was turned into commentary of the Scrip
tures, historical, philosophical, allegorical, moral, commentary.
They desired only to form priests; all studies, whatsoever
their nature, were directed towards this result.

102 HISTORY OF
Sometimes they went even further: they rejected the pro
fane sciences themselves, whatever might be the use made of
them. At the end of the sixth century, Saint Dizier, bishop
of Vienne, taught grammar in his cathedral school. Saint
Gregory the Great sharply blamed him for it. " It is not
fit," he writes to him, " that a mouth sacred to the praises
of God, should be opened for those of Jupiter." I do not
know exactly what the praises of God or of Jupiter had
to do with grammar ; but what is evident, is the crying down
of the profane studies, although cultivated by the priests.
The same fact is visible, and far more plainly, in the writ
ten literature. No more philosophical meditations, no more
learned jurisprudence, no more literary criticism; save some
chronicles, some occasional poems, of which I shall speak at
a later period, we have nothing belonging to this time except
religious works. Intellectual activity appears only under this
form, displays itself only in this direction.
A still more important revolution, and less perceived, is
manifested: not only did Uterature become entirely religious,
but, religious, it ceased to be literary; there was no longer
any literature, properly so called. In the finest times oi
Greece and Rome, and in Gaul, up to the fall of the Roman
empire, people studied, they wrote, for the mere pleasure of
studying, of knowing, in order to procure for themselves
;vnd for others intellectual enjoyment. The influence of
letters over society, over real life, was only indirect; it was
not the immediate end of the writers; in a word, science and
literature were essentially disinterested, devoted to the re
search for the true and the beautiful, satisfied with finding
them, with enjoying them, and pretending to nothing more.
At the epoch whioh now occupies us it was otherwise;
people no longer studied in order to know; they no longer
wrote for the sake of writing. Writings and studies took a
practical character and aim. Whoever abandoned himself
thereto, aspired to immediate action upon men, to regulate
their actions, to govern their life, to convert those who did
not believe, to reform those who believed and did not practice.
Science and eloquence were means of action, of government.
There is no longer a disinterested literature, no longer any
true literature. The purely speculative character of plulo-

I!

/
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 103
eophy, of poetry, of letters, of the arts, has vanished; it is no
longer the beautiful that men seek; when they meet with it,
it no longer serves merely for enjoyment; positive application,
influence over men, authority is now the end, the triumph of
all works of mind, of all intellectual development.
It is from not having taken proper heed to this character
istic of the epoch upon which we are occupied, that, in my
opinion, a false idea has been formed of it. We find there
scarcely any works, no literature, properly so called, no dis
interested inteUectual activity distinct frpm positive life. It
has been thence concluded, and you have surely heard it said,
you may everywhere read, that this was a time of apathy and
moral sterility, a time abandoned to the disorderly struggle of
material forces, in which inteUect was without development
and without power.
It was not so. Doubtless nothing remains belonging to
this age, either of philosophy, poetry, or Uterature, pro
perly speaking ; but it does not follow that there was no
inteUectual activity. It was in an eminent degree other
wise; only it was not produced under the same forms as at
other epochs; it did not lead to the same results. It was an
activity entirely of application, of circumstance, which did not
address itself to the future, which had no design to bequeath
Uterary monuments to it, calculated to charm or to instruct;
the present, its wants, its destinies, contemporaneous interests
and life, that was the circle to which it confined itself, wherein
the Uterature of this epoch spent itself. It produced few
books, and yet it was fertile and powerful over minds.
One is therefore highly astonished when, after having heard
it said, and having oneself thought that this time was sterile
and without intellectual activity, we find in it, upon looking
nearer, a world, as it were, of writings, not very considerable,
it is true, and often little remarkable, but which, from
their number and the ardour which reigns in them, attest a
rare movement of mind and fertility. They are sermons,
instructions, exhortations, homilies, and conferences upon
religious matters. Never has any political revolution, never
has the liberty of the press, produced more pamphlets. Three
fourths, nay, perhaps ninety-nine in a hundred, of these litt
works have been lost: destined to act at the very moment,

104 HISTORY OF
almost all improvised, rarely collected by their authors or by
others, they have not come down to us; and yet an immense
number remains to us; they form a true and rich literature.
The sermons, homUies, instructions, &c, of this epoch, may
be ranged under four classes. The one class consists of ex
planations, of commentaries upon the Scriptures. A passionate
interest was attached to these monuments of the common faith;
men saw everywhere among them purposes, allusions, les
sons, examples; they sought in them hidden meanings,
moral meanings, will or allegory. The most elevated, the
most subtle mind incessantly found there something to exer
cise itself upon; and the people received with avidity these
applications of books, which had all their respect, the actual
interests of their conduct and life.
The sermons of the second class relate to the primitive
history of Christianity, to the festivals and solemnities which
celebrate its great events, such as the birth of Jesus Christ,
his passion, his resurrection, &c.
The third class comprehend sermons for the festivals of the
saints and martyrs; a kind of religious panegyrics, sometimes
purely historical, sometimes turned into moral exhortations.
FinaUy, the fourth class is that of the sermons destined
to apply religious doctrines to the practice of Ufe; that is to
say, sermons upon religious moraUty.
I have no intention to detain you long upon this literature.
To really understand it, to estimate the degree of develop
ment taken by the human mind, and to appreciate the in
fluence which it has exercised over mankind, a lengthened
study is necessary, often tedious, although fuU of results.
The number of these compositions passes all conception: of
Saint Augustin alone there remain three hundred and
ninety -four sermons; and he preached many others, of which
we only have fragments, and again many others which are
entirely lost. I shall confine myself to the selecting two of the
men who may be considered as the most faithful represen
tatives of this epoch, and to the placing before you some frag
ments of their eloquence.
There were two classes of preachers — the bishops and the
missionaries. The bishops in their cathedral town, where
they almost constantly resided, preached several times a week,
some even every day. The missionaries, who were chiefly

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE 105
monks, perambulating the country, preaching both in churches
and in public places, in the midst of the assembled people.
The most illustrious of the bishops of the epoch which
occupies us was Saint Cesaire, bishop of Aries; the most
illustrious of the missionaries was Saint Colomban, abbot of
Luxeuil. I wiU endeavour to give you an idea of their life
and preaching.
Saint Cesaire was born at the end of the 5th century, in
470, at Chalons-sur-Sadne, of a considerable family, and
already celebrated for its piety. In his infancy his tenden
cies, both intellectual and religious, attracted the attention
of the bishop of Chalons, Saint Silvestre, who tonsured him
in 488, and devoted him to an ecclesiastical life. He made
his first appearance in the abbey of Lerens, where he passed
many years, abandoning himself to great austerities, and often
charged with preaching and teaching in the interior of the
monastery. His health suffered from it; the abbot of Lerens
sent him to Aries to get re-estabhshed, and in 501, amid the
unanimous acclamations of the people, he became bishop of
that place.
He occupied the see of Aries for forty-one years, from
501 to 542, during the whole of which period he was one of
the most illustrious and influential of the bishops of southern
Gaul. He presided at, and directed the principal councils
of this epoch, the councils of Agde in 506, of Aries in 524, of
Carpentras in 527, of Orange in 529, all the councils in
which the great questions concerning the doctrine and dis
cipline of the time were treated of, among others, that of
semi-Pelagianism. It appears even that his activity was no
stranger to politics. He was twice exiled from his diocese;
in 505, by Alaric, king of the Visigoths, and in 513, by
Theodoric, king of the Ostrogoths, because, they said, he
wished to abandon Provence, and especiaUy the city of Aries,
to the king of the Burgundians, under whose empire he was
born. Whether the accusation was or was not well founded,
Saint Cesaire was quickly restored to his diocese, which pas
sionately recalled him.
His preaching there was powerful, and one of the principal
sources of his celebrity. About a hundred and thirty of his
sermons have reached us, a number far inferior to that which
he preached. They may be distributed into the four classes

106 HISTORY OF
which I have just pointed out, and by a circumstance which
reflects honour on Saint Cesaire, the sermons on doctrine or
religious morality are more numerous than mystical allegories,
or panegyrics of the saints. It is from among the former that
I shall take some passages calculated to make you acquainted
with this kind of literature and eloquence.'
In a sermon, entitled Advice to the faithful that they read
the divine writings, Saint Cesaire urges them not to devote
themselves exclusively to their temporal affairs, to watch their
souls, to be occupied solicitously with them.
" The care of our soul, my dear brothers," says he, " strongly
resembles the cultivation of the earth: as in the earth, we
pluck up some things in order to sow others which shall be
good, so should it be for our -soul; what is evil should be
rooted up, what is good should be planted; let pride be
plucked away, and humility take its place; let avarice he
rejected, and mercy cultivated  No one can plant good
things in his ground, until he has cleared it of evil things;
accordingly thou canst not plant the holy germs of virtue in
thy soul, unless thou first pluck out the thorns and thistles of
vice. Tell me, I pray thee, thou who saidst even now that thou
couldst not accomplish the commandments of God because
thou canst not read, tell me, who has taught thee to dress thy
vine, at what time to plant a new one? who has taught it
thee? Hast thou read it, or hast thou heard speak of it, or hast
thou asked it of able cultivators? Since thou art so occupied
with thy vine, why art thou not so with thy soul? Give heed,
my brother, I pray you, there are two kinds of fields, one of
God, the other of man; the domain of God is thy soul; is it,
then, just to cultivate thy domain, and to neglect that of God?
When thou seest the earth in a good state, thou rejoicest;
wherefore, then, dost thou not weep at seeing thy soul lie
fallow ? We have but few days to live in this world upon the
fruits of our earth; let us turn, therefore, our greatest atten
tion towards our souls. ... let us labour with all our power,
with the aid of God, to the end that when he shaU come to
his field, which is our soul, he may find it cultivated, arranged
1 The greater part of the sermons of Saint Cesaire were inserted in the
appendix to the sermons of Saint Augustin, at the end of vol. v. of his
works, fol. 1683.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 107
in good order; let him find crops, not thorns, wine, not
vinegar, and more wheat than tares."1
Comparisons borrowed from common life, familiar an
titheses, singularly strike the imagination of the people; and
Saint Cesaire makes great use of them. He recommends
the faithful to conduct themselves properly at church, to avoid
all distraction, to pray with attention:
" Although in many respects, my dear brothers," says he,
"we have often to rejoice at your progress in the way of
salvation, stiU there are some things of which we must caution
you, and I pray you to receive our observations willingly,
according to your custom. I rejoice, and I return thanks to
God, for that I see you flock faithfully to the church to hear
the divine lectures; but if you wish to complete your suc
cess and our joy, come here earlier: you see tailors, gold
smiths, blacksmiths, rise early in order to provide for the
wants of the body; and we, we cannot go before day to
church to solicit pardon for our sins. . . . Come then, at an
early hour, I pray you, and once arrived, try, with the aid of
God, to prevent any foreign thought from gliding amidst our
prayers, for fear of our having one thing upon our lips, and
another in our hearts, and that while our language is addressed
to God, our minds go astray upon all sorts of subjects. . . .
If thou wished to urge any affair important to thyself with
some powerful man, and suddenly turning thyself from him,
and interrupting the conversation, thou wert to occupy thy
self with all sorts of trifles, what an insult wouldst thou not
be guilty of towards him? what would his anger not be towards
thee? Pf then, when we are occupied with a man, we employ
all our care not to think of anything else for fear of offending
him, ought we not to be ashamed, when we are occupied with
God in prayer, when we have to defend ourselves to his
Holy Majesty for miserable sins, should we not be ashamed
to allow our mind to wander here*and there, and to turn from
his divine countenance? Every man, my brothers, takes for
his God that which absorbs his thought at the moment of
prayer, and seems to adore it as his Lord  This one, while
praying, thinks of the public place, it is the public place that
he adores; another has before his eyes the house which he
• S. Aug, Op. vol. v. col. 509, 510.

108 HISTORY OF
is constructing or repairing; he adores what he has before
his eyes; another thinks of his vine, another of his garden. . . .
What will it be if the thought which occupies be an ill
thought, an illegitimate thought? if, in the midst of our
prayers, we allow our mind to run upon cupidity, rage, hate,
luxury, adultery?. . . I implore you, therefore, my cherished
brothers, if you wish entirely to avoid these distractions of
the soul, let us endeavour, with the aid of God, not tc yield
to them."1
Even in treating of the most elevated subjects, in address
ing the gravest counsel to his people, the tone of St. Cesaire's
preaching is always simple, practical, foreign to aU literary
pretension, only destined to act upon the soul of his auditors.
He wishes to excite in them that ardour for good works,
that active zeal, which incessantly pursues good.
" Many people, my dear bi others," says he, " think that
it is sufficient for eternal life, if they have done no evil;
if, perchance, any one has deceived himself by this false
tranquilhty, let him know, positively, that it is not sufficient
for a Christian merely to have avoided evil, if be has not
accomplished, as far as in him lies, things which are good;
for He who said: Depart from evil, — also said to us. Do
good. " He who thinks that it is sufficient not to have done evil,
although he has done no good, let him tell me if he would
desire from his servant what he does to his Lord. Is there
any one who would wish that his servant should do neither
good nor evil? We all require that our servants should not
only not do the evil which we interdict them, but that
they should acquit themselves of the labours that we impose
upon them. Thy servant would be more seriously guilty if hs
should rob thee of thy cattle, but he would not be exempt
frora fault if he neglected to guard it. It is not just that we
should be towards God as we would not wish our servants to
- be towards us. . . .
" Those who think that it is sufficient that they do no evil
are accustomed to say: ' May it please God that I should
merit being found, at the hour of death, the same as when I
left the sacrament of baptism.' Doubtless, it is good for
1 S. Aug. Op. vol. v. col. 471 — 473.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 109
each to be found free from faults at the day of judgment,
but it is a grave one not to have progressed in good. To
him alone who left the world as soon as he received baptism.
may it suffice to be the same as when leaving baptism; he had
not time to exercise good works; but he who has had time to
live, and is arrived at the age to do good, it will not suffice
him to be exempt from faults, if he wishes also to be exempt
from good works. I wish that he who desires to be found the
same at death as he was when he received the sacrament of
baptism would tell me, if, when he plants a new vine, he
wishes that at the end of ten years it should be the same as
the day when he planted it. K he grafts an olive plant,
would it suit him that it should be the same after many years
as on the day when he grafted it? If a son be born to
him, let him consider whether he would wish, that after five
years he should be of the same age and the same size as at
the day of his birth. Since, then, there is no one to whom
this would be agreeable for the things which belong to him, in
the same way that he would be sorrowful if his vine, his olive
plant, or his son, should make no progress, so let him sorrow
if he find that he himself has made no progress from the
moment he was born in Christ."1
And elsewhere, in a sermon upon charity: —
" It is not without reason, you must suppose, that I so
often discourse with you upon truth and perfect charity. I
do it because I know no remedy so wholesome, or so effi
cacious for the wounds of sin. Let us add that, however
powerful may be this remedy, there is no one who may not
procure it, with the aid of God. For other good works
omitted, one may find some excuse; there is none for omit
ting the duty of charity. One may say to me, ' I cannot
fast;' ' I cannot love ?' They may say, ' From the weakness
of my body, I cannot abstain from mea.t and wine;' but
who can say to me, ' I cannot love my enemies, nor par
don those who have offended me?' Let no one deceive
himself, for no one can deceive God. . . . There are many
things which we cannot draw from our granary or our
cellar, but it would be disgraceful to say that there is some
thing which we cannot draw from the treasure of our heart;
' S. Aug. Op. vol. v. col. 431, 432.

110 HISTORY OF
for here our feet have not to run, our eyes to look, our ears
to listen, nor our hands to work. We can aUege no fatigue
as an excuse; men do not say to us: ' Go to the east to seek
charity; sail to the east, and thence bring back affection.' It
is into ourselves and into our hearts that they order us to
enter; it is there that we shaU find everything. . .
" But, says some one, I cannot, in any way, love my
enemies. God teUs thee in the Scriptures that thou canst;
and thou answerest that thou canst not. Now, look; should
we believe God or thee? - . . How then? So many men, so
many women, so many children, so many delicate young
girls have supported with a firm heart, for the love of Christ,
the flames, the sword, wild beasts; and we cannot support
the insults of some foolish persons! and for some petty
ills which the wickedness of men has done us, we pursue
against them to their death the vengeance of our injuries.
Truly, I know not with what face and with what conscience
we dare ask to share eternal beatitude with the saints, we
who cannot foUow their example even in the shghtest
things."1 This is not devoid of energy; the feeling of it is hvely,
the turns picturesque; it almost amounts to eloquence.
Here is a passage which is even more touching. It is
doubtful whether the sermon from which I borrow it is by
Saint Cesaire. It contains some almost verbal imitations
from the eastern fathers, especially Eusebius and Saint Gre
gory: but this matters little; it is certainly by some preacher
of the time, and characterizes it as well as that which I have
just cited. It was preached on Easter-day; it celebrates
Christ's descent into hell, and his resurrection:
" Behold," says the preacher, "you have heard what was done
of his own free-wiU by our Saviour, the Lord of Vengeance.
When, like a conqueror, burning and terrible, he reached the
countries of the kingdom of darkness, at the sight of him the
impious legions of hell, affrighted and trembling, began to ask
each other, saying : — ' What is this terrible figure resplendent
with the whiteness of snow? Never has our Tartarus received
his like; never has the world cast into our caverns any one
resembUng him; this is an invader, not a debtor; he exacts, he
1 8. Aug. Op. vol. v. col. 451, 452.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. Ill
does not ask; we see a judge, not a suppliant; he comes to com
mand, not to succumb; to take away, not to remain. Did our
porters sleepwhen this triumpher attacked our gates? If he was
a sinner, he would not be so powerful; if any fault sullied him,
he would not illuminate our Tartarus with such brilliancy.
If he is God, wherefore has he come? if he is man, how has
he dared? IT he is God, what does he in the' sepulchre? if he
is man, why does he deliver sinners? whence comes he, so
dazzling, so powerful, so radiant, so terrible? . . . Who is he,
that with so much intrepidity he oversteps our frontiers,
and that not only he does not bear our punishments, but that
he delivers others from our chains? Should not this be he
by whose death our prince lately said we should gain the
empire over the whole universe? But if this be he, the hope
of our prince has deceived him; where he thought to conquer,
he has been conquered and thrown down. O, our prince,
what hast thou done, what hast thou wished to do? Behold
him who, by his splendour, has dissipated thy darkness; he
has overthrown thy dungeons, broken thy chains, delivered
thy captives, and changed their sorrow into joy. Behold
those who were accustomed to groan under our torments in
sult us because of the salvation which they have received;
and not only do they not fear us, but they even menace us.
Have any seen hitherto the dead become proud, the captives
rejoice? Why hast thou desired to lead hither him whose
coming has called back joy to those who late were in despair?
We no longer hear their accustomed cries, none of their
groans resound!' "'
Surely, even were you to find such a passage in Paradise
Lost, you would not be astonished, for this discourse is not
unworthy of the hell of Milton.
It is not, however (and this is a good reason for not attri
buting it to him), in the general tone of the preaching of
Saint Cesaire. This is in general more simple, less ardent; it
addresses itself to the common incidents of life, to the natural
feelings of the soul. There reigns in it a mild kindness to
wards a genuine intimacy with the population to whom the
preacher addresses himself ; he not only speaks a language
suited to his auditors, the language which he believes best
1 8. Aug. Op. vol. v. col." 283, 284.

112 HISTORY OF
calculated to~ act upon them; but he pays attention to tiie
effect of his words; he wishes to take from them anything
which they may possess likely to wound, — all bitterness; he in
a manner claims indulgence for his severity.
" When I make these reflections, I fear that some wiU rather
be irritated against us than against themselves: our discourse
is offered to your charity as a mirror; and as a matron, when
she regards herself in her mirror, corrects what she sees de
fective in ber person, and does not break the mirror; so,
when any one shall recognise his deformity in a discourse, it
is just that he should rather correct himself than be irritated
against the preacher as against a mirror. Those who receive
a wound are more disposed to nurse it than to irritate them
selves against the remedies; let no persons irritate themselves
against spiritual remedies; let each receive, not only patiently,
but with a good heart, what is said to him with a good heart.
It is well known that he who receives in a good spirit a
salutary correction, already avoids evil; he who is displeased
with his faults, begins to have an inclination for what is good,
and in proportion as he departs from vice, he approaches
virtue."1 He pushes his solicitude so far as to desire that his
auditors should interrogate him, and enter into conversation
with him. -
" It was a cause of great joy to him," say his biographers,
" when men induced him to explain any obscure point; and
he himself frequently excited us to it, by saying to us — ' I
know that you do not understand all that we say; why do
you not interrogate us, to the end that you may De able to
comprehend? The cows do not always run to the calves—
often, even the calves run to the cows, that they may appease
their hunger at the dugs of their mother. You should act in
precisely the same manner, so that by interrogating us, you
may seek the means of extracting the spiritual honey for
yourselves.' " 2
One can scarcely suppose but that such language would
exercise great influence over the mass of the people; that of
1 S. Aug. Op. vol. v. col. 480.
5 Vita S. Ccesarii, c. 30 ; dans les Acta sanct. ord. S. Bened. vol. i.
p. 607.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 113
Saint Cesaire was great indeed, and everything attests that
few bishops possessed the soul of their auditors as he did.
I pass to a preaching of another kind, less regular, less
wise, but not less powerful — to that of the missionaries. I
have named Saint Colomban as the type of this class of men.
He was born in 540, not in Gaul, but in Ireland, in the
province of Leinster; he prosecuted his ecclesiastical studies,
and became a monk in the monastery of Benchor, situated in
the North of Ireland, in Ulster. What he had to do as a
common monk, and in Ireland, did not satisfy his activity;
and in 585, aheady forty-five years of age, he passed into
France with twelve monks of his monastery, with the sole
aim of visiting it and preaching there. He preached,
indeed, while travelUng from west to east, with enormous
success, attracting everywhere the concourse of the people,
and the attention of the great. A short time after his
arrival in Burgundy, the king, Gontran, implored him to
remain there. He established himself amidst the moun
tains of Vosges, and there founded a monastery. At
the end of a very short period, in 590, the increasing
number of his disciples, and 'the- affluence of people,
obliged him to seek a more extensive and more acces
sible place ; he descended to the foot of the mountains,
and there founded the monastery of Luxeuil, which soon
became very considerable. The successes of Saint Colomban
were less peaceable than that of Saint Cesaire — they were
accompanied by resistance and trouble ; he preached the
reformation of manners, the zeal of faith, without caring for
any consideration or circumstance, falling out with princes,
with bishops, casting the Divine fire on all sides, without
troubling himself about the conflagration. Accordingly, his
influence, wliich he exercised with a good intention, was un
certain, unequal, and incessantly disturbed. In 602, he got
into a quarrel with the neighbouring bishops, about the day
of the celebration of Easter, and not choosing to yield any
thing to the local customs, he made enemies of them. About
609, a violent storm was raised against him at the court of
the king of Burgundy, Theodoric IL, and, with his accus
tomed energy, he preferred to abandon his monastery rather
than yield for an instant. Fredegaire has accurately pre
served the account of this contest ; I will read it entire:
VOL. II. I

11± HISTORY OF
the character and the situation of the missionary are strongly
shown in it : —
" The fourth year of the reign of Theodoric, the reputa
tion of Saint Colomban increased in the cities and in aU the
provinces of Gaul and Germany. He was so much celebrated
and venerated by all, that king Theodoric often visited him
at Luxeuil, to ask with humihty the favour of his prayers.
As he went there very often, the man of God began to
rebuke him, asking him why he gave himself up to adultery
with concubines, rather than enjoying the sweetness of a
legitimate marriage, so that the royal race might proceed
from an honourable queen, and not from an evil place. As
already the king obeyed the word of the man of God, and
promised to abstain from all iUicit things, the old serpent
glided into the soul of his grandmother Brunehault, who was
a second Jezebel, and excited her against the saint of God
with the sting of pride. Seeing Theodoric obey the man of
God, she feared that if her son, sUghting the concubines, put
a queen at the head of the court, she would see herself, by
this event, retrenched of a part of her dignity and honours.
It happened one day that Colomban visited the court of
Brunehault, which was then in the domain of Bourcheresse.'
The queen having seen him enter the court, led to him the
sons that Theodoric had had by his adulteries. Having
looked at them, the saint asked what they wanted with him.
Brunehault said to him — ' These are the sons of the king —
give them the favour of thy benediction.' Colomban said to
her — ' Know that they will never bear the royal sceptre, for
they have come from an ill place.' She, in a fury, ordered
the children to retire. The man of God having left the
court of the queen, at the moment that he passed the
threshold a terrible noise from above was heard, but did not
repress the fury of this miserable woman, who prepared
to set snares for him  Colomban, seeing the royal
anger raised against him, promptly repaired to the court, to
repress by his admonitions this unworthy rancour. The
king was then at Epoisse, his country house. Colomban
arrived as the sun went down ; they announced to the king
that the man of God was there, and that he was not wiUing
Lo enter into the house of the king. Then Theodoric said,
1 Between Chalons and Autun.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. '1 15
that he had rather properly honour the man of God than
provoke the anger of the Lord by offending one of his
servants; he therefore ordered his people to prepare every
thing with royal pomp, and to go to the servant of God.
They ran therefore, and, according to the order of the king,
offered their presents. Colomban, seeing that they presented
him dishes and cups with royal splendour, asked what they
wanted. They said to him — ' This is what the king sends
thee.' But, driving them back with malediction, he answered
— ' It is written, the Most High rejecteth the gifts of the
wicked; it is not fit that the Ups of the servants of God
should be soiled with his meat — of his who interdicts their
entry, not only into his dwelling, but that of others.' At
these words, the vases feU to pieces, the wine and the beer
ran over the ground, and everything was scattered about.
Some servants, terrified, went to tell the king what had
happened. He, seized with fright, repaired, at break of
day, with his grandmother, to the man of God; they im
plored him to pardon them for what they had done, and
promised to correct themselves in future. Colomban was
appeased, and returned to the monastery. But they did
not long observe their promises ; their miserable sins
recommenced, and the king gave himself up to his usual
adulteries. At the news of this, Colomban sent him a letter
full of reproaches, menacing him with excommunication if
he would not correct himself. Brunehault, again enraged,
excited the mind of the king against Colomban, and strove
to deprive him of aU his power; she prayed aU the lords and
great men of the court to animate the king against the man
of God; she also dared to solicit the bishops, in order that
they might raise suspicions concerning his religion, and
blame the rule which he imposed upon his monks. The
courtiers, obeying the discourse of this miserable queen,
excited the mind of the king against the saint of God, and
persuaded him to cause him to come and prove his religion.
The king hurried away, sought the man of God at Luxeuil,
and asked him why he deviated from the customs of other
bishops, and also why the interior of the monastery was not
open to aU Christians. Colomban, with a haughty soul and
fuU of courage, answered the king that it was not customary
to open the entrance of the dwelling-place of the servants of
I 2

116 HISTORY OF
God to secular men and strangers to reUgion, but that he had
places prepared and destined to receive all guests. The
king said to him — ' If thou desire to acquire the gifts of our
bounty and the help of our protection, thou must allow
every one to enter into all parts of thy monastery.' The
man of God answered — ' If thou wouldst violate what has
hitherto been subject to the rigour of our rules, and if thou
art come here to destroy the retreats of the servants of God,
and overthrow the rules of discipline, know that thy empire
shall crumble to the ground, and that thou shalt perish with
all thy royal race;' which the event afterwards confirmed.
Already, with a rash step, the king had penetrated into the
refectory; terrified at these words, he quickly returned. He
was then assailed with the warm reproaches of the man
of God, to whom Theodoric said: ' Thou hopest I shall give
thee the crown of a martyr; know that I am not sufficiently
foolish to commit so great a crime. Return to a view of
things which will be far more profitable for thee, and let him
who has renounced the manners of secular men resume the
path he has quitted.' The courtiers all cried, with one voice,
that they could not tolerate in that place a man who would
not associate with all. But Colomban said that he would not
go beyond the boundary of the monastery, unless taken away
by force. The king then departed, leaving a certain lord
named Bandulf, who immediately drove the saint of God
from the monastery, and conducted him in exile to the town
of Besancon, until the king should decide upon the sentence
which it might please him to pass."
The struggle was prolonged for some time; the missionary
was finally obliged to quit Burgundy. Theodoric had him
conducted to Nantes, where he attempted to embark in order
to return to Ireland; an unknown circumstance, of which his
biographers have made a miracle, prevented him crossing the
sea; he resumed the route of the countries of the east, and
established himself in the states of Teodebert, brother of
Theodoric, in Switzerland, on the borders of the lake of
Zurich; then on the lake of Constance, and finally on the lake
of Geneva. New troubles drove him from this abode; he
passed into Italy, and there founded, in 612, the monastery
of Bobbio, where he died on the 21st of November, 615, an
object of veneration to all the people among whom he liaoj
brought his tempestuous activity.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 117
It is shown in his eloquence: few monuments of it remain
to us; such preaching was far more improvised, far more
fugitive, than that of a bishop. Belonging to Saint Colomban
we have only the rule which he instituted for his monastei'y,
some letters, some poetical fragments, and sixteen Directions,
which are really sermons, preached either during some
mission, or in the interior of his monastery. The character of
them is entirely different from that of the sermons of Saint
Cesaire; there is much less mind and reason in them; a less
fine and varied knowledge of human nature and the different
situations of life, less care taken to model the religious in
struction upon the wants and capacities of the auditors. But
on the other hand, the flights of imagination, the pious trans
ports, the rigorous application of principles, the warfare
declared against all vain or hypocritical compromise, give to
the words of the orator that passionate authority which does not
always and surely reform the soul of his auditors, but which
dominates over them, and, for some time at least, sovereignly
disposes of their conduct and their life. I shall cite but one
passage from them, so much the more remarkable, as being
what one would least expect to find there. It was the age
when fasts, mortifications, austerities of all kinds were multi-
pUed in the interior of monasteries, and Saint Colomban
recommends them, Uke others; but, in the sincerity of his
enthusiasm, he soon perceived that neither sanctity nor faith
existed therein, and he attacked the errors of the monastical
rigours, in the same way that he had attacked the baseness
of worldly effeminacy:
" Do not suppose," says he, " that it suffices for us to
fatigue the dust of our body with fasts and vigils, if we do
not also reform our manners. ... To mortify the flesh, if the
soul fructifies not, is to labour incessantly at the earth without
making it produce any harvest; it is to construct a statue of
gold outside, and of mud within. To what purpose were it
to go far abroad to make war, if the interior be left a prey to
ruin? What would be said of the man who should dig all
round his vineyard and leave it inside full of brambles and
bushes?  A religion consisting merely of gestures and move
ments of the body is vain; the suffering of the body alone is
vain; the care which a man takes of his exterior is vain, if
he does not also watch and take care of his soul. True

118 HISTORY OF
piety resides in the humility, not of the body, but of the
heart. To what purpose are those combats, which are fought
with the passions by the servant when these hve in peace
with the master? .... It does not suffice any more to hear
speak of the virtues, or to read of them. ... Is it by words
alone that a man cleanses his house of filth? Is it without
labour and without sweat that a daily work can be accomplished?
.... Therefore strengthen yourself, and cease not to combat;
no one obtains the crown, unless he has courageously
fought." l
We do not find many passages in the Instructions of Saint
Colomban, so simple as this. The transports of imagination
are there always mixed with subtlety of mind; stiU the foun
dation is often energetic and original.
Compare this sacred eloquence of the sixth century with
the eloquence of the modern pulpit, even in its finest period;
at the seventeenth century, for example. I said but now
that, from the sixth to. the eighth century, the characteristic of
literature was that of ceasing to be Uterature, that it had
become an action, a power; that in writing, in speaking, men
only concerned themselves with positive and immediate re
sults ; that they sought neither science nor inteUectual plea
sures, and that, for this reason, the epoch produced scarcely
anything but sermons, or works analogous to them. This fact,
which is shown in the general Uterature, is imprinted on the
sermons themselves. Open those of modern times, they have
evidently a character more Uterary than practical; the orator
aspires far more to beauty of language, to the, intellectual
satisfaction of his auditors, than to influence them to the bot- •
torn of their souls, to produce real effects, true reformation,
efficacious conversion. There is nothing of this kind, no
thing literary, in the sermons which I have just spoken of;
no anxiety about speaking well, about artisticaUy combining
imagts, ideas; the orator goes to the facts; he desires to act:
he turns and returns in the same circle; he fears not repeti
tions, familiarity, or even vulgarity; he speaks briefly, but he
begins again each morning. It is not sacred eloquence, it is
religious power.
There was at this epoch a literature which has net been
1 8. Colomban. Inst. 2. Bibl.patr. vol. xii. p. 10.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE 119
remarked, a veritable literature, essentiaUy disinterested,
which had scarcely any other end in view but that of pro
curing intellectual, moral pleasure to the public; I mean ths
lives of the saints, the legends. They have not been intro
duced into the literary history of this epoch: they are, how
ever, its true, its only literature, for they are the only works
which had the pleasures of the imagination for their object.
After the battle of Troy, almost every town in Greece had
poets who coUected the traditions and adventures of the he
roes, and made a diversion of them for the public, a national
diversion. At the epoch wliich occupies us, the lives of the
saints played the same part for the Christians. There were
men who occupied themselves in coUecting them, writing
them, and recounting them for the edification, no doubt, but
more especially for the inteUectual pleasure of the Christians.
That is the literature of the time, properly so called. In our
next lecture, I shall lay some of those before you, as well as
some monuments of profane Uterature, which we likewise
meet there.

120 HISTORY OP

SEVENTEENTH LECTURE.

Preface of the Old Mortality of Walter Scott — Eobert Patterson — Preface of
the Vie de Saint Marcellin, bishop of Embrun, written at the commence
ment of the sixth century — Saint Ceran, bishop of Paris — Eagerness of
the Christians of these times to collect the traditions and monuments of
the life of the saints and martyrs — Statistics of this branch of sacred
literature — Collection of the Bollandists — Cause of the number and popu
larity of legends — They almost alone satisfy at this epoch — 1. The wants
of the moral nature of man — Examples • Life of Saint Bavon, of Saint
Wandregisilus, of Saint Valery — 2. The wants of physical nature —
Examples : Life of St. Germain of Paris, of Saint Wandregisilus, of
Saint Rusticulus, of Saint Sulpicius of Bourges — 3. The wants of the
imagination — Examples : Life of Saint Seine, of Saint Austregesilus —
Literary defects and merits of legends.
Heading the Puritans of Walter Scott is a preface wliich the
French translators have omitted, I know not why, and from
which I take the following details :
" The tombs of the puritan martyrs, scattered in large
numbers, especially in some counties of Scotland, are still
objects for the respect and devotion of their partisans. It is
sixty years ago that a man living in the county of Dumfries,
named Robert Patterson, a descendant, it was supposed, of
one of the victims of the persecution, quitted his house and
small inheritance, in order to devote himself to the task of
keeping these modest tombs in repair. . . He contrived to
discover them in the most secret places, in the mountains and
rocks where the insurgent puritans had taken refuge, and
where, often surprised by troops, they perished sword in hand,
or were shot after the combat. He freed the funeral stone
from the moss wliich covered it, he renewed the half effaced
inscription where the pious friends of the dead had expressed,

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 121
in- scriptural style, both the celestial joys which awaited him,
and the malediction which should for ever pursue his mur
derers. Every year he visited all the tombs : no season
stopped him; he begged not, nor had he any need so to do;
hospitahty was always assured him in the families of the mar
tyrs or zealots of the sect. For nearly thirty years he conti
nued this painful pilgrimage; and it is scarcely more than
twenty-five years since he was found exhausted with fatigue,
and breathing his last sigh upon the high road, near Lockerby;
by his side was his old white horse, the companion of his la
bours. In many parts of Scotland, Robert Patterson is still
remembered, and the people, ignorant of his real name, desig
nated him, from the employment to which he devoted his life,
by that of Old Mortality, (man of the dead of olden times.)"
I go back from the eighteenth to the sixth century, and I
read at the head of the Life of Saint Marcellin, bishop of
Embrun, this little prologue:
" By the bounty of Christ, the combats of the illustrious
martyrs, and the praises of the blessed confessors, have filled
the world to such a degree, that almost every town may boast
of having as patrons martyrs born within its bosom. Hence
it happens, that the more they write and propagate the
inestimable recompence which they received for their virtues,
the more will the gratitude of the faithful increase. Accord
ingly, I find my pleasure in seeking everywhere the palms of
these glorious champions; and while travelling with this view,
I arrived at the city of Embrun. There I found that a
man, long since sleeping with the Lord, still performs signal
miracles  I asked, curiously, what had been the
kind of life of this holy man from his infancy, what was his
country, by what proofs and by what marvels of virtue lie
had been raised to the sublime charge of pontiff; and all
declared with one voice what I have here committed to
writing. Men even whose age has been prolonged to a very
late period, and some of whom have attained ninety, and even
a hundred years, have given me unanimous answers concern
ing the holy pontiff. ... I wish, therefore, to transmit his
memory to future ages, although I feel my weakness succumb
under such a burden."1
1 Vie if. Saint Marcc!H:>, in the Ada Sanctorum of the BollandicSn,
20th April, vol. ii. p. 751.

122 HISTORY OF
Behold the Robert Patterson of the sixth century: this un
known man performed the same travels, and fulfilled almost the
same office for the Christian heroes of this epoch, as Old
Mortality did for the martyrs of Scotch puritanism. It
was a taste, a general need of the age, that of seeking all
the traditions, all the monuments of the martyrs and saints, and
transmitting them to posterity. Saint Ceraune, or Ceran, bishop
of Paris at the beginning of the seventh century, likewise
devoted his life to this task. He wrote to all the priests whom ¦
he thought learned in the pious traditions of their country,
praying them to collect such for hint: we know, among others,
that he addressed himself to a priest of the diocese of Langres,
called Warnacher, and that this latter sent him the acts of
three sainted brothers of one birth, Speusippius, Eleu-
sippius, and Meleusippus, martyrised in that diocese shortly
after the middle of the second century; and of Saint
Didier, bishop of Langres, who underwent the same fate
about one hundred years later. It would be easy to find
many analogous facts in the history of Christianity, from the
fourth to the tenth century.
Thus were amassed the materials of the collection com
menced in 1643 by Bolland, a Jesuit of Belgium, since con
tinued by many other scholars, and known under the name of
Recueil des Bollandistes. All monuments relative to the
life of the saints are there collected and classed by month and
day. The enterprise was interrupted in 1794 by the Belgian
revolution; so the work is finished only for the first nine
months of the year, and the first fourteen days of the month
of October. The end of October, and the months of Novem
ber and December are wanting; but the materials for them
were prepared: they have been found, and it is said that no
time will be lost in publishing them.
In its actual state, this collection contains 53 volumes
folio, of which the following is the distribution: —

January .

. 2 volumes

July ... 7 volumes

February

. 3

77

August . . 6 „

March .

. 3

77

September . 8 „

April

. 3

77

October (up to

May . .

. 8

77

the fourteenth

June . .

. 7

77

day). . . 6 „

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

123

Would you have an idea of the number of lives of the
saints, long or succinct, contemporaneous or not, which fill
these 53 volumes ? Here is the list, day by day, of those of
the month of April: —

April 1. .

. 40 Saints

April 17. .

. 42 Saints

2. .

. 41

18. .

. 46

3. .

. 26

19. .

. 38

4. .

. 26

20. .

. 57

5. .

. 20

21. .

. 24

6. .

. 55

22. .

. 62

7.

. 35

23. .

. 42

8. .

. 25

24. .

. 74

9. .

. 39

25. .

. 30

10. .

. 30

26. .

. 48

11. .

. 39

27. .

. 56

12. .

. 141

28. .

. 45

13. .

. . 39

29. .

. 58

14. .

. . 46

30. .

. 126

15. .

. 41

16. .

. . 81

1472

I have not made the calculation for the fifty-three volumes;
but according to this amount of one month, and judging by
approximation, they contain more than 25,000 lives of
saints. I must add that many, doubtless, have been lost, and
that many others still remain unpublished in the libraries.
This simple statistic shows you the extent of this literature,
and what prodigious activity of mind it presupposes in the
sphere of which it is the object.
Such an activity, such a fertility, surely did not proceed
from the mere fancy of the authors; there were general and
powerful causes for it. It is customary to see them only in the
religious doctrines of this epoch, in the zeal which they in
spired: assuredly, they conspired thereto; and nothing of the
kind was done without their influence; still they did not
do aU. In other times, also, these doctrines were diffused,
were energetic without producing the same result. It was not
merely to faith and to religious exaltation; it was also, and
perhaps more especially, to the moral state of society and of
man, from the fifth to the tenth century, that the literature of
legends owes its richness and popularity.

124 HISTORY OF
You know the character of the epoch which we have just
studied: it was a time of misery and extreme disorder, one
of those times which weigh, in some measure, in all directions
upon mankind, checking and destroying it. But however
bad the times may be, whatever may be the external circum
stances which oppress human nature, there is an energy, an
elasticity in it, which resists their empire; it has faculties,
wants which make their way through all obstacles; a thousand
causes may curb them, turn them from their natural direction,
suspend or divert their development for a greater or less
length of time; nothing can abolish them, reduce them to a
state of complete impotence: they seek and always find some
issue, some satisfaction.
It was the merit of the pious legends to give to some
of those powerful instincts, those invincible wants of the
human soul, that issue, that satisfaction, which all elsewhere
refused them.
And first you know to what a deplorable state Frankishn
Gaul had arrived, what depravation or what brutality reignedj||
there. The view of the daily recurring events revolted of^|
suppressed all the moral instincts of man; everything was
abandoned to chance or to force; we scarcely meet, in the
interior world, with that empire of idea of duty, that respect
for right, which is the foundation of the security of life and the
repose of the soul. They were found in the legends. Who
ever will cast a glance, on the one hand, upon the chronicles
of civil society, on the other, upon the lives of the saints, —
whoever, in the History of Gregory of Tours alone, will
compare the civil traditions and the religious traditions, will
be struck with their difference; in the one, morality only
appears, so to speak, in spite of mankind and without their
knowledge; interests and passions alone reign: people are
plunged into their chaos and darkness; in the others, amidst
a deluge of absurd fables, morality bursts forth with an
immense influence; it is seen, it is felt; this sun of intellect
shines upon the world in the bosom of which it lives. I might
refer you almost indifferently to all the legends ; you would
everywhere meet with the fact I point out. Two or three
examples will make it fully evident.
Saint Bavon, or Bav, hermit and patron of the town of
Ghent, who died in the middle of the seventh century, had at

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 125
first led a worldly life; I read in his history, written by a co-
temporary. " One day he saw a man come to him, whom formerly, and
while he still led a worldly life, he had himself sold. At this
sight, he fell into a violent fit of despair for having committed
so great a crime towards this man; and, turning towards him,
he fell upon his knees, saying, ' It is I by whom thou wast sold,
tied with thongs; remember not, I implore thee, the evil that
I have done to thee, and grant me one prayer. Strike my
body with rods, shave my head as thou wouldst that of a
robber, and cast me in prison as I deserve, with my feet and
hands tied; may be, if thou dost this, the Divine mercy will
grant me his pardon.' The man .... says that he dare not
do such a thing to his master; but the holy man, who spoke
eloquently, strove to induce him to do what he asked. Finally,
constrained, and despite himself, the other, overcome by his
prayers, did as he required him; he tied the hands of the
godly man, shaved his head, tied his feet to a stick, and con
ducted him to the public prison; and the holy man remained
there many days, deploring day and night those acts of a
worldly life, which he had always before his mind's eye, as a
heavy burden."1
The exaggeration of these details is of little import
ance; even the material truth of the history is of little im
portance: it was written at the beginning of the seventh
century, to those men of the seventh century who incessantly
had under their observation servitude, the sale of slaves,
and all the iniquities, all the sufferings, which ensued from
their condition. You can understand what a charm this
simple recital possessed for them. It was a real moral relief,
a protest against odious and powerful facts, a weak but precious
echo of the rights of Uberty.
Here is a fact of another nature: I take it from the Life of
Saint Wandregisilus, Abbot of Fontenelle, who died in 667,
and who, before embracing the monastic life, had been count
of the palace of king Dagobert: —
" While he still led a lay life, as he was travelling one day
accompanied by his people, he arrived at a certain place on
» In 653 or 657. Life of Saint Bavon, § 10, Acta Sana. Ord. S. Ben.,
vol. ii. p. 400.

126 HISTORY OF
his road; the people in insurrection abandoned themselves to
aU the transports of fury against the holy man: impelled by
a barbarous and insensate rage, and fallen into the conditio:!
of beasts, a crowd of people rushed towards him, and much
blood would have been shed, if his intervention and the power
of Christ had not provided a remedy. He implored the succour
of Him to whom it is said: ' Thou art my refuge against tribu
lations;' and trusting to words instead of his sword, he placed
himself under the shield of Divine mercy. Divine help did
not fail him, when human help was wanting; this crowd of
madmen stood immoveable. The discourse of the holy man
then dispersed and saved them at the same time; they came
in fury, and they retired in quiet."1
Would you suppose that at this epoch it would have occurred
to any barbarian, to any man a stranger to reUgious ideas,
thus to manage the multitude, to employ only persuasion and
words, in order to appease a disturbance. It is very probable
that he would have had immediate recourse to force. The
rash employment of force was repugnant to a pious man, pre
occupied with the idea that he had to do with souls; instead
of physical force, he invoked moral force; before massacre, he
tried a sermon.
I now take an example in which the relations of men shall
be nothing, in which no attempt shall be made to substitute
moral for physical force, nor to protest against social iniquity;
in which there is no question concerning anything but indi
vidual, private sentiments, of the internal Ufe of man. I read
in the life of Saint Valery, who died in 622, abbot of Saint
Valery, in Picardy:
" As this godly man returned on foot from a certain place,"
says Cayeux, " to his monastery, in the winter season, it hap
pened, by reason of the excessive rigour of the cold, that he
stopped to warm himself in the dwelling of a certain
priest. This latter and his companions, who should have
treated such a guest with great respect, began, on the con
trary, boldly to hold unsuitable and ill discourse with the
judge of the place. Faithful to his custom always to put the
salutary remedy of the Divine word upon corrupted and
¦ Life of Saint Wandregisilus, § 4, in the Acta Sanct. Ord. S. Ben.
vol. ii. p. 035.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 127
frightful wounds, he attempted to check them, saying: 'My
ejus, have you not seen in the Evangelist that at the day of
judgment you wiU have to account for every idle word?' But
they, scorning his admonition, abandoned themselves more and
more to gross and obscene discourse, for the mouth speaks
from the overflowing of the heart. As for him, he said: ' I
desired, by reason of the cold, to warm my fatigued body a
little at your fire; but your guilty discourse forces me to de
part, aU frozen as I am.' And he left the house."1
Of a surety the manners and language of the men of this
age were very coarse, disorderly, impure; still, doubtless,
respect, a taste even for gravity, for purity, both in thought
and word, was not abolished; and when they found an occa
sion, many among them certainly took pleasure in satisfying
that taste. The legends alone furnished them with the means.
There was presented the image of a moral state, highly supe
rior, in every respect, to .that of the external society, of
common Ufe; the human mind might there repose, relieved
from the view of crimes and vices which assailed it on all
sides. Perhaps it scarcely itself sought this relief; I doubt if
it ever made account of it; but, when it came upon it, it eagerly
enjoyed it; and this, no doubt, was the first and most power
ful cause of the popularity of this Uterature.
This was not all: it also answered to other wants of our
nature, to those wants of affection, of sympathy, which
proceed, if not from morality, properly so called, at least from
moral sensibiUty, and which exercise so much influence over
the soul. The sensible faculties had much to suffer at the
epoch which occupies us; men were hard, and were treated
harshly; the most natural sentiments, kindness, pity, friend
ship, both of family and of choice, took but a weak or painful
development. And yet they were not dead in the heart of
man: they often sought to display themselves; and the sight
of their presence, of their power, charmed a population con
demned to so little enjoyment of them in real life. The
legends gave them this spectacle; although by a very false idea,
in my opinion, and one which has produced deplorable ex
travagances, the religion of the time often commanded the
sacrifice, even the contempt of the most legitimate feelinggpstiU
1 Life of Saint Valery, § 25, in the Acta Sand. Ord. 8. Ben., vol. 0,
p. SO.

128 HISTORY OF
it did not stifle, it did not interdict the development of human
sensibility; while very often ill directing its application, it
favoured rather than suppressed its exercise. We find, in
the lives of the saints, more benevolence, more tenderness of
heart, a larger part given to the affections, than in any
other monument of this epoch. I will place before you some
instances; I am convinced you will be struck with the develop
ment of our sensible nature, which breaks forth amidst the
theory of sacrifice and self-denial.
The ardent zeal of Saint Germain, bishop of Paris in the
last half of the sixth century,1 for the redemption of slaves, is
known by every one; many pictures have perpetuated it, but
the touching details of it must be read in his life:
" Were even the voices of all united in one, you could not
say how prodigal were his alms; often contenting himself
with a tunic, he covered some poor naked object with the rest
of his clothes, so that while the beggar was warm, the bene
factor was cold. It is impossible to enumerate in how many
places, or in what number, he redeemed captives. The
neighbouring nations, the Spaniards, the Scotch, the Britons,
the Gascons, the Saxons, the Burgundians, may attest in
what way recourse was had, on all sides, to the name of the
Saint, in order to be dehvered from the yoke of slavery.
When he had nothing more left, he remained seated, sorrow
ful and restless, with a more grave visage, and a more solemn
conversation. If by chance any one then invited him to a
repast, he excited the guests, or his own servants, to concert
the manner of delivering a captive, and the soul of the bishop
escaped a little from its despondency. If the Lord, in any
way, sent means to the saint, immediately, seeking in his
mind, he was accustomed to say: ' Let us return thanks
to the Divine clemency, for the means of effecting redemp->
tion has arrived,' and at once, without hesitation, the
effect followed the words. When, therefore, he had thus
received anything, the wrinkles on his forehead disappeared,
his countenance was more serene, he walked with a lighter
step, his discourse was more copious and lively; so much
so that one would have thought that, in redeeming others,
Uiis^Bfin delivered himself from the yoke of slavery."2
1 Died in 576.
* Life of Saint Germain, bishop of Paris, § 74, in the Acta Smct. Ord,
S. Ben., vol. i. p. 244.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 129
Never has the passion of goodness been painted with a more
simple and a truer energy.
In the life of Saint Wandregisilus, abbot of Fontenelle, of
whom I have just spoken, I find this anecdote :
'' As he repaired one day to king Dagobert, just as he ap
proached the palace, there was a poor man whose cart had
been overthrown before the very gate of the king : many
people passed in and out, and not only they did not lend him
any aid, but many passed over him, and trod him under
foot. The man of God, when he arrived, saw the impiety
which these children of insolence committed, and, immediately
descending from his horse, he held his hand out to the poor
man, and, both together, they raised the cart. Many of those
present, seeing him all soiled with mud, mocked and insulted
him; but he cared not, foUowing with humility the humble
example of his Master; for the Lord himself has said in the
Gospel: ' If they have called the master of the house Beelze
bub, how much more shall they call them of his household ?' "l
Here is another taken from the Life of Saint Sulpicius the
Pious, bishop of Bourges, in which breathes, amidst the most
puerile credulity, a benevolence and a mildness certainly very
foreign to the general manners of the epoch.
" One night, a ruffian, doubtless poor, introduced himself
violently into the pantry of the holy man : he soon seized
upon what, in his criminal heart, he proposed stealing, and
hastens to get out; but he finds no opening, he is imprisoned
within the surrounding walls, and confined on all sides. The
night slipt away fruitlessly to this man who had entered so
easily, and who could not see the slightest outlet. However,
the light of day began to light the world ; the man of God
called one of his guards, ordered him to take a comrade,
and to bring to him the man they should find in the office,
plunged in crime, and as if bound.
" The servant went without delay to seek a companion, and
repaired to the office: there they found the guilty man, and
seized him to carry him off ; the knave escaped from their
hands; and seeing himself loaded with crimes, surrounded
with people, preferring a speedy death to the punishment of
1 Life of Saint Wandregisilus, § 7, in the Ada Sand. Ord 8. fan .
vol. ii. p. 528.
VOL. II. K

130 HISTORY OF
his long transgressions, he rushed into a well nearly eighty
cubits deep, which he saw near him; but at the moment when
he fell into the abyss, he implored the prayers of the blessed
bishop. The man of God ran quickly, and ordered one of
his servants to descend into the well by means of a cord, en
joining him expressly immediately to draw up the criminal
who had thrown himself in. All exclaimed that any one
whom such an abyss had swallowed could not live, and that
surely he was dead already; but the holy man ordered his
servant to obey him without delay. The latter waited no
longer, and, strengthened with the benediction of the saint,
he found him whom they believed dead sound and safe.
Having surrounded him with cords, he drew him captive on
to his native soil. The waUs could not contain the crowd;
almost the whole town had hastened to such a spectacle, and
all made a great noise with their cries and plaudits. The
criminal, as if shaking off a profound stupor, threw him
self at the feet of the saint, and implored his pardon. The
latter, full of charity, immediately granted it to him, and
even gave him what he had need of, recommending him to
ask, for the future, instead of taking, and saying that he
would rather make him presents than be robbed by him.
Who can express the perfect humility of this man, the prompt
mercy, the holy simplicity, patience, and forbearance."1
If we desire examples of the development of sensibihty
alone, without any precise application, without any beneficial
or direct result, the life of Saint Rusticula, abbess of the
monastery that Saint Cesaire had founded at Aries, will
furnish us with two which seem to me to have a lively
interest. Saint Rusticula was born in Provence, in the
territory of Vaison: her parents had already one son.
" One night, when her mother Clemence was asleep, she
saw herself, in a dream, nursing, with great affection, two
small doves, one as white as snow, the other of a mixed
colour. As she occupied herself about them with much
pleasure and tenderness, she thought that her servants came
to teU her that Saint Cesaire, bishop of Aries, was at her
gate. Hearing this, and delighted at the arrival of the
' Life of Saint Sulpicius. § 28 and 29, in the Acta Sand. Ord. S. Ben.,
?Ol. ii. p 175.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 13 J,
saint, she ran joyfully to him, and eagerly saluting him,
humbly prayed him to grant to her house the blessing of his
presence. He entered, and blessed her. After having done
him the due honours, she prayed him to take some nourish
ment, but he answered — ' My daughter, I only desire thee to
give me this dove, which I have seen thee rearing so care
fully.' Hesitating within herself, she thought whence he
could know that she had this dove; and she denied that she
possessed anything of the kind. He then answered — ' Before
God, I teU thee I will not leave this place till thou grant me
my request.' She could no longer excuse herself; she
showed her doves, and offered them to the holy man. He
joyfully took that which was of a brilliant white, and, con
gratulating himself, put it into his bosom; and after taking
leave of her, he departed. When she awoke, she reflected
upon what aU this signified, and she sought in her soul why
he who was no more had appeared to her. She knew not
that Christ had chosen her daughter in marriage, he who has
said, ' A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither
do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a
candlestick, and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.' ''»
There is certainly nothing remarkable in the incidents of
this account; the foundation is little conformable to natural
sentiments, since it is concerning a daughter being taken
from her mother; and yet there reigns in it a general tinge
of sensibility, of sweet and lively tenderness, which penetrates
even into the allegory by which this sacrifice is asked of the
mother, and sheds much charm and grace over it.
Saint Rusticula governed her abbey with great success,
and especially inspired a deep affection in her nuns: in 632,
she was ill, and near to death:
" It happened one Friday, that after having, according to
her custom, sung the vespers with her daughters, and feeling
fatigued, she went beyond her powers in giving her accus
tomed reading: she knew that she only went quicker to
the Lord. The Saturday morning she was rather cold, and
had lost all strength in her limbs. Then laying down in
her little bed, she was seized with a severe fever: she, how-
1 Life of Saint Kusticala, § 3, in the Acta Sand. Ord. 8. Ben., vol. ii.
p. 140.
k2

132 HISTORY OF
ever, did not cease to praise God, and, fixing her eyes on
heaven, she recommended to his care her daughters, whom
she left orphans, and, with a firm voice consoled those who
wept around her. On the Sunday she found herself worse;
and as it was customary to make her bed only once a year,
the servants of God asked her to aUow herself a rather
softer couch, in order to spare her body so rough a fatigue;
but she would not consent thereto. On Monday, the day of
Saint Lawrence the martyr, she still lost strength, and her
chest made a great noise. To this sight the sorrowful vir
gins of Christ answered with tears and sighs. As it was the
third hour of the day, and as, in its affliction, the nuns read
the psalms in silence, the holy mother asked why she did
not hear the psalms: the nuns answered they could not sing by
reason of their sorrow: 'Sing stiU louder,' said she, 'that
I may receive the help of it, for it is very sweet to me.'
The following day, when her body was almost without mo
tion, her eyes, which preserved their vigour, stiU shone like
stars, and looking on all sides, and being unable to speak,
she imposed silence with her hand, on those who wept, and
gave them consolation. When one of the sisters touched
her feet to see if they were warm or cold, she said: ' It is
not yet the hour.' But shortly after, at the sixth hour of
the day, with a serene countenance, with eyes shining, and
as if she smiled, this glorious, blest soul, passed to heaven,
and associated with the innumerable choirs of saints."1
I know not if any of you have ever opened a collection,
entitled Memoires pour servir a VHistoire de Port Royal,2
which contains the account of the life and death of the prin
cipal nuns of that celebrated abbey; among others, of the two
Angelique Arnaulds, who successively governed it. Port-
Royal, the branch for women as well as that for men, was,
as you know, the asylum for the most ardent, the most inde
pendent souls, as well as for the most elevated minds, that
honoured the age of Louis XIV. Perhaps human sensibility
is nowhere displayed with more richness and energy than in
the moral history of these pious women, of whom many
shared at once the intellectual development of NicoUe and
1 Life of Saint Eusticula, § 31, p. 146.
* Three vols. 12mo. Utreoht, 1742.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 133
of Pascal. Well; the recital of their last moments a good
deal resembles what I have just read: we find there the same
emotions of piety and friendship, almost the same language;
and the sensible nature of mankind appears to us, in the
seventh century, almost as lively, and as developed, as that
of the seventeenth, amidst the most passionate characters of
the age.
I might greatly multiply these examples ; but we must
proceed. I have some to present to you of another kind.
Independently of the satisfaction which they gave to
morality and human sensibility, the condition of which in
the external world was so bad, the legends also corresponded
to other faculties, to other wants. Much is at present said
concerning the interest, the movement which, in the course
of what is vaguely called the middle ages, animated the life
of nations. It seems that great adventures, spectacles and
recitals incessantly excited the imagination; that society was
a thousand times more varied and amusing than it is among us.
It may have been so for some men placed in the superior ranks,
or thrown into peculiar situations; but for the mass of the
population, Ufe was, on the contrary, prodigiously monoto
nous, insipid, wearisome; its destiny went on in the same place,
the same scenes were produced before the eyes; there was
scarcely any external movement, still less movement of mind ; its
pleasures were as few as its blessings, and the condition of its
intellect was not more agreeable than its physical existence.
It nowhere so much as in the lives of the saints, found
nourishment for this activity of imagination, this inclination
for novelty, for adventures, which exercises so much influ
ence over men. The legends were to the Christians of this
age, (let me be allowed this purely literary comparison,) what
those long accounts, those brilliant and varied histories, of
which the Thousand and One Nights gives us a specimen, were
to the Orientals. It was there that the popular imagination
wandered freely in an unknown, marvellous world, full of
movement and poetry. It is difficult for us, in the present day,
to share the pleasure which was taken in them twelve cen
turies since; the habits of mind have changed ; distractions
beset us: but we may at least understand that there was therein
a source of powerful interest for this literature. In the
immense number of adventures and scenes with which it

134 HISTORY OF
charmed the Christian people, I have selected two which will
perhaps give you some idea of the kind of attraction which
they had for it. The first is taken from the life of Saint
Seine, (Saint Sequanus,) the founder, in the sixth century,
of the abbey in Burgundy, which took his name, and it
describes the incident which induced him to select its
site: " When Seine found himself — thanks to his laudable zeal
— well instructed in the dogmas of the divine scriptures, and
learned in monastical rules, he sought a place suited for
building a monastery; as he went over all the neighbouring
places, and communicated his project to all his friends, one of
his relations, Thiolaif, said to him: ' Since thou interrogatest
me, I will point out a certain place where thou mayest esta
blish thyself, if what thou desirest to do is inspired by the
love of God. There is an estate which, if I do not deceive
myself, belongs to me by hereditary right; but the people
around feed themselves, like ferocious beasts, with human blood
and flesh; this renders it difficult to go among them, unless
one pays a troop of armed men.' The blessed Seine an
swered him: ' Show me the place, to the end that if my
desires have been conceived by a divine instinct, all the
ferocity of these men may be changed into the mildness of
the dove.' Having, therefore, taken his companions, he
arrived at the place of which they had spoken. It was a
forest, the trees of which almost touched the clouds, and
whose solitude had not for along time been interrupted: they
asked themselves how they could penetrate into it, when they
saw a winding foot-path, so narrow, and full of briars, that
they could scarcely place their feet upon the same line, and
from the thickness of the branches, it was with difficulty that
one foot followed the other. However, with much labour,
and having their clothes torn, they got into the depths of this
rough forest, ; then, bending towards the ground, they
began to watch the profound darkness with an atten
tive eye.
"Having for some time looked with attention, they perceived
very narrow openings to a cavern, obstructed by stones and
plants; besides which, the interlaced branches of the trees
rendered the cavern so dark, that wild beasts themselves
would have hesitated to enter it. This was the cavern of the

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 135
robbers, and the resort of unclean spirits. When they
approached it, Seine, agreeable to God, bent his knees at the
entry, and extending his body over the bushes, addressed a
prayer to God, mixed with tears, saying — ' Lord, who hast
made Heaven and earth, which thou givest to the wishes of
him who implores thee, and who originatest all good, and
withbut whom all the weak efforts of humanity are useless, if
thou orderest me to Uve in this solitude, make the same known
unto me, and lead to good the beginnings which thou hast
granted to my devotion.' When he had finished his prayer,
he arose, and raised his hands towards heaven, and his eyes,
which were moist with tears. Knowing then that it was
under the conduct of the Saviour that he had repaired into
this dark forest, after having blessed the place, he immedi
ately set about placing the foundations of a cell where he had
kneeled to pray. The report of his arrival came to the ears
of the neighbouring inhabitants, who, each exhorting the
other, and impeUed by a Divine movement, repaired near
him. When they had seen him, from wolves they became
lambs, so that those who were formerly a source of terror
were heneeforth ministers of help; and, from that time, this
place, which was the resort for divers cruel demons and
robbers, became the abode of innocents."1
Should we not suppose that we were reading the account
of the establishment of some colonists in the heart of the most
distant forests of America, or of some pious missionaries
amidst the most savage hordes?
Here is an account of a different character, but which is
no less fuU of movement and interest.
StiU young, and before entering into the ecclesiastical
order, Saint Austregesilus, bishop of Bourges, at the com
mencement of the seventh century, manifested a Uvely desire
to forsake the world, and not to marry.
" Hearing him speak thus, his parents began to press him
earnestly to obey them in this respect. He, in order that he
might not see them discontented, whom he desired to see
satisfied, promised to do as they asked him, if such was the
wiU of God.

1 Life of Saint Seine, § 7 and 8. Acta Sand. Ord. 8. Ben., vol. i.
p. 204.

136 HISTORY OF
" When, therefore, be was occupied in the king's service,
he began to return to this business, and to seek what would
best befit him to do. He recollected three men of the
same nation, and of equal fortune. He wrote their names
upon three tablets, and put them under the cover of the altar
in the cathedral of Saint John, near the town of Chalons, and
made, a vow to pass three nights in prayer without sleeping.
After the three nights, he ,was to put his hands upon the
altar, taking the tablet which the Lord should deign to
make him find first, and demand in marriage the daughter of
the man whose name should be upon the tablet. After having
passed one night without sleep, the next night he found him
self overcome by it, and towards the middle of the night,
unable to resist .any longer, his limbs gave way, and he fell
asleep upon a seat. Two old men presented themselves to
his view. One said to the other: ' Whose daughter is
Austregesilus to marry?' The other answered: 'Art thou
ignorant that he is already married?' ' To whom?' ' To
the daughter of judge Just.' Austregesilu3 then awoke, and
applied himself to finding out who this Just was, of what
place he was j udge, and if he had a virgin daughter. As he
could not find him, he repaired, according to custom, to the
king's palace. He arrived in a village where there was an
inn. Some travellers were assembled there, among others, a
poor veteran with his wife. When this woman saw Austre
gesilus, she said to him:
" ' Stranger, stop an instant, and I will tell thee what I have
lately seen concerning thee in a dream; it appeared as if I
heard a great noise, like that of the singing of psalms, and I said
to my host: ' Man, what is this that I hear? what festival is now
being celebrated by the priests, that they make this procession?'
He answered: 'Our guest Austregesilus is being married.'
Full of joy, I was eager to see the young bride, and to view her
face and form. When the priests, clothed in white, carrying
crosses, and singing psalms in the usual manner, were passed,
thou earnest out, and all the people followed behind; for me,
I looked with curiosity, and I saw no woman, not even the
girl whom thou wert to marry; I said to thy host: 'Where
is the virgin whom Austregesilus is to marry?' he answered:
'.Do you not see her in his hands?' I looked, and I only saw
in thy hands the book of the gospel.' Then the saint under-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. T 37
stood by his vision and the dream of this woman, that the
voice of God called him to the priesthood."1
There is here no miracle, properly so called; all is confined
to dreams; but you see what movement of imagination is
connected with all the sentiment, with all the incidents of a
religious life, and with what eagerness the people received
them. These are the true sources of this literature; it gave to the
moral, physical, and poetical nature of man, a nourishment,
a satisfaction which it found nowhere else; it elevated and
agitated his soul; it animated his life. Hence its fertiUty
and its credit.
If it were, our purpose to consider it under a purely literary
point of view, we should find its merits neither very bril
Uant nor very varied. Truth of sentiment and naivete of
tone are not wanting to it; it is devoid of affectation and
pedantry. The narrative is not only interesting, but it is
often conceived under a rather dramatic form. In the eastern
countries, where the charm of narration is great, the dramatic
form is rare; we there meet with few conversations, few
dialogues, with little getting up, properly speaking. There is
much more of this in the legends; dialogue is there habitual,
and often progresses with nature and vivacity. But we
should in vain seek a Uttle order in them, any art of composi
tion; even for the least exacting minds, the confusion is
extreme, the monotony great; credulity continually descends
to the ridiculous, and the language has arrived at a degree
Of imperfection, of corruption, of coarseness, which in the
present day pains and wearies the reader.
I wish to say a few words also on a portion (very inconsider
able, it is true, but which, however, I ought not to omit) of the
Uterature of this period, that is, its profane literature. I have
observed that, dating from the 6th century, sacred Uterature
was alone, that all profane literature had disappeared; there
were, however, some remains of it; certain chronicles, certain
occasional poems which belonged not to religious society, and
which merit a moment's attention. In our next lecture, I
shall present to you, on some of those monuments so liitle
known in the present day, developments which appear to me
not uninteresting.
1 Life of Saint Austregesilus, § 2, in the Acta Sand Ord. 8. Ben.,
roi. ii. p. 95.

138 HISTORY OF

EIGHTEENTH LECTURE.

Some wrecks of profane literature from the sixth to the eighth century — Of
their true character — 1st, Prose writers — Gregory of Tours — His life—
His Ecclesiastical History of the Franks — The influence of the ancient
Latin literature unites with that of the Christian doctrines — Mixture of
civil and religious history — Fredegaire — His Chronicle — 2ndly, Poets —
Saint Avitus, bishop of Vienne — His life — His poems on the Creation —
Original sin — The condemnation of man — The Deluge — The passage of
the Eed Sea — The praise of virginity — Comparison of the three first with
the Paradise Lost of Milton — Fortunatus, bishop of Poictiers — His
life — His relations with Saint Badegonde — His poems — Their character
— First origin of French literature
I mentioned in our last lecture that we should now occupy
ourselves with the wrecks of piofane literature, scattered here
and there, from the sixth to the eighth century, amidst ser
mons, legends, theological dissertations, and escaping from
the universal triumph of sacred literature. I shall, perhaps,
be a little embarrassed with my promise, and with this word
profane, which I have appUed to the works of which I mean
to speak. It seems to say, in fact, that their authors or their
subjects are of a lay character, that they belong not to the
religious sphere. Yet, see the names of the writings, and of
the authors. There are two prose writers, and two poets*
the prose writers are Gregory of Tours, and Fredegaire; the
poets — Saint Avitus, and Fortunatus. Of these four men,
three were bishops: Gregory at Tours, Saint Avitus at
Vienne, and Fortunatus at Poictiers; all three were canon
ized; the fourth, Fredegaire, was probably a monk. With
regard to the persons, there can scarcely be anything less pro
fane; assuredly they belong to sacred literature. As regards
the works themselves, that of Gregorv of Tours bears the

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 139
title of Ecclesiastical History of the Franks; that of Fredegaire
is a simple chronicle; the poems of Saint Avitus turn upon
the Creation, Original Sin, the Expulsion from Paradise, the
Deluge, the Passage of the Red Sea, the Praise of Virginity;
and although in those of Fortunatus many treat of the incidents
of a worldly life, as the marriage of Sigebert and Brunehault,
the departure of queen Galsuinthe, &c, still the greater part
relate to religious events or interests, as the dedications of
cathedrals, the praise of saints or bishops, the feasts of the
church, &c, so that, to judge by appearances, the subjects as
well as the authors enter into sacred literature, and it seems
that there is nothing to which the name of profane can be
suitable. I might easily allege that some of these writers were not
always ecclesiastics; that Fortunatus, for example, for a long
time lived a layman; that many of his poems date from this
period of his life. It is not certain that Fredegaire was a
monk. Gregory of Tours formaUy expressed his intention
of mixing the sacred and the profane in his history. But
these would be poor reasons. I had far rather admit that,
in some respects, the works I intend to speak of at present
belong to sacred Uterature; and still I maintain what I have
said; they belong to profane Uterature; they bore its character
in more than one respect, and they should bear its name.
And here is the reason:
I have just passed before you the two principal kinds of
the sacred literature of this epoch, on one hand sermons, on
the other, legends. Nothing of this kind had existed in anti
quity; neither the Greek nor Latin Uterature furnished a
model of similar compositions. They took their rise from
Christianity — from the religious doctrines of the age; they
were original; they constituted a new and truly religious
literature, for it had. no impress of ancient literature, of the
profane world, neither in form nor groundwork.
The works of which I am about to speak are of another
nature: the authors and the subjects are religious, but the
character of the compositions, the manner in which they
are conceived and executed, belong not to the new religious
literature; the influence of pagan antiquity is clearly shown
in them; we incessantly find there the imitation of the Greek
or Latin writers; it is visible in the turn of the imagination j

140 HISTORY OF
in the forms of the language; it is sometimes direct and
avowed. This is nothing like that truly new Christian mind,
foreign, even hostile, to all ancient recollections, which is visible
in the sermons and legends: here, on the contrary, and even
in the most religious subjects, one feels the traditions, the
intellectual customs of the pagan world, a certain desire to
be connected with profane literature, to preserve and repro
duce its merits. It is hence that the name is applied correctly
to the works of which I speak, and that they form in the litera
ture from the sixth to the eighth century a separate class,
which in a measure unites the two epochs, the two societies,
and claims especial inquiry.
Let us pass in review the four writers I have just named:
we shall recognise this characteristic in their writings.
I begin by the prose writers, and by Gregory of Tours,
incontestably the most celebrated.
You will recollect whether historical compositions had fallen
in the Roman empire: high history, the poetical, political,
philosophical history, that of Livy, that of Polybius, and that
of Tacitus, had equally vanished; they could only keep a
register, more or less exact, more or less complete, of events
and men, without retracing their concatenation or moral cha
racter, without uniting them to the life of the state, without
seeking therein the emotions of the drama, or of the true epopee.
History, in a word, was no more than a chronicle. The last
Latin historians, Lampridius, Vopiscus, Eutropius, Ammia-
nus Marcellinus himself, all are mere chroniclers. The
chronicle is the last form under which history presents itself
in the profane literature of antiquity.
_ It is likewise under this form that it re- appears in the
rising Christian literature: the first Christian chroniclers,
Gregory of Tours among others, did nothing but imitate and
perpetuate their pagan predecessors.
_ George Florentius, who took the name of Gregory from
his great grandfather, bishop of Langres, was born on the
3rd of November, 539, in Auvergne, in the bosom of one of
those families which caUed themselves senatorial, and wliich
formed the decaying aristocracy of the country. The one to
which he belonged was noble in the civil and the religious or
der: he had many illustrious bishops for ancestors and relations,
and he was descended from a senator of Bourges, Vettius

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 141
Epagatus, one of the first and most glorious martyrs of Chris
tianity in Gaul. It appears (and this fact is so commonly
met with in the history of celebrated men, that it becomes
matter of suspicion), it appears that from his infancy, by his in
tellectual and pious tendencies, he attracted the attention of all
around him, and that he was brought up with particular care
as the hope of his family and of the church, among others by
his uncle, Saint Nizier, bishop of Lyons, Saint Gal, bishop of
Clermont, and Saint Avitus, his successor. He had very ill
health, and, already ordained deacon, he made a journey to
Tours, in the hope of being cured at the tomb of Saint Mar
tin. He was actually cured, and he returned to his country.
We find him, in 573, at the court of Sigebert I., king of Aus-
trasia, to whom Auvergne belonged. He received news that
the clergy and people of Tours, doubtless struck with his
merits during the sojourn which he had made among them,
had just elected him bishop. After some hesitation, he con
sented, was consecrated the 22nd of August by the bishop of
Reims, and immediately repaired to Tours, where he passed
the rest of his life.
He, however, often left it; and even on affairs foreign to
those of the church. Gontran, king of Burgundy, and Chil-
debert II. king of Austrasia, employed him as a negotiator in
their long quarrels; we find him in 585 and in 588, travelling
from one court to another to reconcile the two kings. He
appeared likewise at the council of Paris, held in 577, to
judge Pretextat. archbishop of Rouen, whom Chilperic and
Fredegonde wished to expel, and whom in fact they did expel
from his diocese. .
In his various missions, and especially at the council of
Paris, Gregory of Tours conducted himself with more inde
pendence, good sense, and equity, than was evinced by many
other bishops. Doubtless, he was credulous, superstitious,
devoted to the interests of the clergy: still few ecclesiastics of
his time had a devotion, I will not say as enlightened, but
less blind, and kept to so reasonable a line of conduct in
what concerned the church.
In 592, according to his biographer, Odo of Cluny, who
wrote his Ufe in the tenth century, he made a journey to Rome
to see pope Gregory the Great. The fact is doubtful, and
of little interest: still the account of Odo of Cluny contains

142 HISTORY OF
a rather piquant anecdote, and one which proves what a
high estimation Gregory and his contemporary were held in
at the tenth century. He was, as I have said, remarkably
weak and puny.
" Arrived in the presence of the pontiff," says his bio
graphers, " he kneeled and prayed. The pontiff, who was of
a wise and deep mind, admired within himself the secret dis
pensations of God, who had placed so many divine graces
in so small and puny a body. The bishop, internally advised,
by the will on high, of the thought of the pontiff, arose, and
regarding him with a tranquil air, said to him: 'It is the
Lord who makes us, and not ourselves; it is the same with
the great and with the smaU.' The holy pope, seeing that he
thus answered to his thought, conceived a great veneration
for him, and took so much to heart the dignifying of the see
of Tours, that he presented a chair of gold to it, which is still
preserved in that church."1
Close upon his return from his journey to Rome, if it is
true that he made one, Gregory died at Tours, the 17th of
November, 593, very much regretted in his diocese, and cele
brated throughout western Christendom, where his works
were already spread. That' which interests us most in the
present day was certainly not at that time the most ardently
sought for. He composed, 1st, a treatise of the Glory of the
Martyrs, a coUection of legends, in one hundred and seven
chapters, devoted to the recital of the miracles of martyrs; 2.
A treatise on the Glory of the Confessors, in one hundred and
twelve chapters; 3. A collection entitled Lives of the Fathers,
in twenty chapters, and which contains the history of twenty-
two saints, of both sexes, of the Gaulish church; 4. A treatise
on the Miracles of Saint Julianus, bishop of Brioude, in fifty
chapters; 5. A treatise on the Miracles of Saint Martin of
Tours, in four books; 6. A treatise on the Miracles of Saint
Andrew. These were the writings which rendered his name
so popular. They have no distinguishing merit amid the
crowd of legends, and nothing which requires us to stop at
them. The great work of the bishop of Tours, that which has
brought his name down to us, is his Ecclesiastical History of
1 Vila 8. Gregorii, &c, by Odo, abbot of Cluny, § 24.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 143
the Franks. The mere title of the book is remarkable, for it
points out its character to be at once civil and religious; the
author did not wish to write a history of the church merely,
nor of the Franks alone; he thought that the destinies of the
laity and those of the clergy should not be separated.
He says, "I shall indiscriminately combine, and without
any other order than that of time, the virtues of the saints and
the disasters of the people. I am not of opinion that it should
be regarded as unreasonable to mix the feUcities of the blessed
with the calamities of the miserable in the account, not for
the convenience of the writer, but in order to conform with
the progress of events .... Eusebius, Severus, Jerome,
and Orosius have mixed up in Uke manner in their chro
nicles, the wars of kings and the virtues of martyrs."1
I shall have recourse to no other testimony than that
of Gregory of Tours himself, for distinguishing in his work
that influence of ancient literature, that mixture of pro
fane and sacred letters, which I pointed out at the beginning.
He protests his contempt for aU pagan traditions; he eagerly
repudiates all heritage of the world in which they reigned.
" I do not occupy myself," he says, " with the flight of
Saturn, nor the rage of Juno, nor the adulteries of Jupiter;
I despise all such things which go to ruin, and apply myself
far rather to Divine things, to the miracles of the gospel."2
And elsewhere, in the Preface of his history, we read:
" The cultivation of letters and the liberal sciences were
declining, were perishing in the cities of Gaul, amidst the
good and evil actions which were then committed; while the
barbarians abandoned themselves to their ferocity, and the
kings to their fury, while the churches were alternately
enriched by pious men, and robbed by the infidels, we find
no grammarian able in the art of logic, who undertook
to describe these things either in prose or verse. Many men
accordingly groan, saying: ' Unhappy are we! the study of
letters perishes among us, and we find no person who can
describe in his writings present facts.' Seeing this, I have
thought it advisable to preserve, although in an uncultivated
1 Gregory of Tours, vol. i. p. 39, in my Collection des Me'moires sur
IHistoire de France.
2 Article upon Greg, of Tours, vol. i. p. 22 , in my Collection.

144 HISTORY OF
language, the memory of past things, in order that future
men may know them."1
What does the writer lament? the fall of the liberal stu
dies, of the liberal sciences, of grammar, of logic. There is
nothing Christian there; the Christians never thought of
them. On the contrary, when the mere Christian spirit domi
nated, men scorned what Gregory caUs the Uberal studies;
they called them profane studies.
It is the ancient literature which the bishop regrets, and
which he wishes to imitate as far as his weak talent will
allow him; it is that which he admires, and which he flatters
himself with the hope of continuing
You see here the profane character breaks through. No
thing is wanting to this work to place it in sacred literature:
it bears the name of Ecclesiastical History, it is full of the
religious doctrines, traditions, the affairs of the church. And
still civil affairs likewise find a place in it, and it is a chro
nicle very like the last of the pagan chronicles; and respect
and regret for pagan literature, as formally expressed in it,
with the design of imitating it.
Independently of the narrative, the book is very curious
from the double character which unites it to the two socie
ties, and marks the transition from one to the other. As
to the rest, there is no art of composition, no order; even
the chronological order, which Gregory promises to follow,
is incessantly forgotten and interrupted. It is merely the
work of a man who has collected all he has heard said,
all that passed in his time, traditions and events of every
kind, and has inserted them, good and bad, in a single narra
tion. The same enterprise was executed, and in the same
spirit, at the end of the eleventh century, by a Norman monk,
Orderic Vital. Like Gregory of Tours, Orderic collected all
the recollections, all facts, both lay and religious, which came
within his knowledge, and inserted them promiscuously, con
nected by a small thread, and, to complete the resemblance,
he also ' gave his work the title of Ecclesiastical History
of Normandy. I shall speak minutely of it when we arrive
at the civilization of the eleventh century; I merely wished
here to point out the analogy. The work of the bishop of
1 Art. on Greg of Tours, vol. i. p. 23, in my Collection.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 1 46
Tours, precisely by reason of this shadow of ancient litera
ture, which we may catch a glimpse of in the distance, is
superior to that of the Norman monk. Although the Latin
is very corrupt, the composition very defective, and the style
undignified, it has stiU some merit in the narration, some
movement, some truth of imagination, and a rather acute
knowledge of men. It is, upon the. whole, the most instruc
tive and amusing chronicle of the three centuries. It begins
at the year 377, at the death of Saint Martin, and stops in
591. Fredegaire continued it. He was a Burgundian, probably
a monk, and lived in the middle of the eighth century. This
is aU that is known of him, and even his name is doubtful.
His work is very inferior to that of Gregory of Tours; it is a
general chronicle, divided into five books, and commences at
the creation of the world. The fifth book onlji is curious; it
is there that the narration of Gregory of Tours is taken up,
and continued up to 641. This continuation is "of no value
except for the information which it contains, and because it
is almost the only work there is upon the same epoch. For
the rest, it has no Uterary merit, and, except two passages,
contains no picture the least detailed, nor does it cast any
light upon society and manners. Fredegaire himself was
struck, I will not say with the mediocrity of his work, but
with the inteUectual decay of his time.
" We can only draw with trouble," says he, " from a source
which does not still run. Now the world ages, and the
force of mind deadens in us: no man in the present age is
equal to the orators of past times, and no one dare even pre
tend to emulate them." l
The distance between Gregory of Tours and Fredegaire,
is, in fact, great. In the one, we still feel the influence, and,
as it were, the breath of Latin Uterature; we recognise some
traces, some tinges of a taste for science and elegance in mind
and manners. In Freclegaire all recollection of the Roman
world has vanished; he is a barbarous, ignorant, and coarse
monk, whose thought, Uke his life, is inclosed within the walls
of his monastery. • Preface to Fredegaire, vol. ii. p. 1C4, of my Collection.
VOL. II. L

146 HISTORY OF
From the prose writers let us pass to the poets; they are
worthy of our attention.
I just now called to your recollection what had been the
last state, the last form of history, in Latin Uterature, from
the third to the fifth century. Without falling quite so low,
the decay of poetry was profound. All great poetry had dis
appeared, that is, all epic, dramatic, or lyrical poetry; the
epopee, the drama, and the ode, those glories of Greece and
Rome, were not even aimed at. The only kinds still slightly
cultivated, were: 1, didactic poetry, sometimes taking that
philosophic tone, of which Lucretius gave the model, and
more frequently directed towards some material object, the
chase, fishing, &c. ; 2, descriptive poetry, the school of which
Ausonius is the master, and in which are found numerous
narrow but elegant minds ; 3, lastly, occasional poetry,
epigrams, epitaphs, madrigals, epithalamiums, inscriptions, all
that kind of versification, sometimes in mockery, sometimes
in praise, whose only object is to draw some momentary
amusement from passing events. This was aU that remained
of the poetry of antiquity.
The same kinds, the same characteristics, appear in the
semi-profane, and the semi-Christian poetry of this epoch.
In my opinion, the most distinguished of all the Christian
poets from the sixth to the eighth century, although he may
not be the most talked of, is Saint Avitus, bishop of Vienne.
He was born about the middle of the fifth century, like
Gregory of Tours, of a senatorial family in Auvergne. Epis
copacy was there a kind of inheritance, for he was the fourth
generation of bishops; his father Isique preceded him in the
see of Vienne. Alcimus Ecdicius Avitus mounted it in 490,
and occupied it until the 5th of February, 525, the time of
his death. During all that period, he played an important
part in the Gaulish church, intervened in events of some
importance, presided at many councils, among others, at that
of Epaone in 517, and especiaUy took a very active part in
the struggle between the Arians and the orthodox. He was
the chief of the orthodox bishops of the east and south of
Gaul. As Vienne belonged to the Burgundian Arians, Saint
Avitus had often to struggle in favour of orthodoxy, not only
against his theological adversaries, but also against the civil
power; he got out of it happily and wisely, respecting and

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 147
managing the masters of the country without ever abandoning
his opinion. The conference which he had at Lyons, in 499^
with some Arian bishops in presence of king Gondebald,
proved his firmness and his prudence. It is to him that the
return of king Sigismond to the bosom of orthodoxy is attri
buted. However this may be, it is as a writer, and not as a
bishop, that we have to consider him at present.
Although much of what he wrote is lost, a large number of
his works remains; a hundred letters on the events of his
times, some homiUes, some fragments of theological treatises,
and lastly, his poems. Of these there are six, all in hexa
meter verses. 1. Upon the Creation, in 325 verses;
2. Upon Original Sin, in 423 verses; 3. On the Judgment
of God and the Expulsion from Paradise, 435 verses; 4. Upon
the Deluge, 658 verses; 5. On the Passage of the Red Sea,
719 verses; 6. In praise of Virginity, 666 verses. The first
three, The Creation, Original Sin, and The Judgment of
God, together form a triad, and may be considered as three
parts of one poem, that one might — indeed, that one ought to
caU, to speak correctly, Paradise Lost. It is not by the subject
alone that this work recals to mind that of Milton; the resem
blances in some parts of the general conception, and in some of
the more important details, is striking. It does not follow
that Milton was acquainted with the poems of Saint Avitus;
doubtless, nothing proves the contrary; they were published
at the beginning of the sixteenth century, and the classical
and theological learning of Milton was very great, but it is of
little importance to his glory whether or not he was acquainted
with them. He was one of those who imitate when they
please, for they invent when they choose, and they invent
even while imitating. However it may be, the analogy of the
two poems is a rather curious literary fact, and that of Saint
Avitus deserves the honour of being closely compared with
that of Milton.
The first part, entitled, Of the Creation, is essentially de
scriptive; the descriptive poetry of the sixth century appears*
there in all its development. It singularly resembles the de
scriptive poetry of our time, the school, of which the abbe
Delille is the chief, that we have seen so flourishing, and
which at present scarcely counts a few languishing inheritors.
The essential characteristic of this kind is to excel in con
l2

148 HISTORY OF
quering difficulties which are not worth being conquered, to
describe what has no need of being described, and thus to
arrive at a rather rare Uterary merit, without it resulting
in any truly poetical effect. There are some objects which
it is sufficient to name, occasions in which it is sufficient to
name the objects, in order that poetry may take rise, and the
imagination be struck; a word, a comparison, an epithet,
place them vividly before one's eyes. Descriptive poetry,
such as we know it, is not content with this result: it is
scientific more than picturesque; it troubles itself less with
making objects seen, than with making them known; it
minutely observes, and surveys them as a designer, as an ana
tomist, is intent upon enumerating them, upon displaying
every part of them; and this being the fact, that which,
simply named or designated by a single stroke, by a general
image, would be real and visible to the imagination, ap
pears only decomposed, cut up, dissected, destroyed. This is
the radical vice of modern descriptive poetry, and the trace
of it is imprinted in its happiest works. It is found in that
of the sixth century; the greater part of the descriptions of
Saint Avitus have the same, fault, the same character.
God works at the creation of man: " He places the head
on the most elevated place, and adapts the countenance,
pierced with seven outlets, to the wants of the inteUect. From
thence are exercised the senses of smeU, hearing, sight, and
taste: that of touch is the only sense which feels and judges
by the whole body, and whose energy is spread through all
its members. The flexible tongue is attached to the roof of
the mouth, so that the voice, driven into this cavity as if
struck by a bow, resounds with various modulations through
the moved air. From the humid chest, placed before the
body, extends the robust arms with the ramifications of the
hands. After the stomach comes the belly, which upon each
side surrounds the vital organs with a soft envelopment. Below,
the body is divided into two thighs, in order to walk more
easily by an alternate movement. Behind, and below the
occiput, descends the nape of the neck, which everywhere
distributes its innumerable nerves. Lower and on the inside
are placed the lungs, which must be separated by a Ught air,
and which, by a strong breath, alternately receives and re?
turns it."1 » Poems of Avitus, 1. i. De Initio Mundi. v. 82^-107,

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 149
Are we not in the workshop of a mechanic? are we not
present at that slow and successive labour which announces
science and excludes life? In this description, there is great
accuracy of facts, the structure of the human body, and the
agency of the various organs are very faithfully explained,
everything is there, except man and the creation.
It would be easy to find, in modern descriptive poetry, per
fectly analogous passages.
Do not suppose, however, that there is nothing but things
of this kind, and that, even in this description of poetry,
Saint Avitus has always executed as badly as this. This
book contains many of the most happy descriptions, many
most poetical, those especiaUy which trace the general beau
ties of nature, a subject far more within the reach of descrip
tive poetry, much better adapted to its means. I will quote,
for an example, the description of Paradise, of the garden of
Eden, and I will at the same time place before you that of
Milton, universaUy celebrated.
" Beyond India, where the world commences, where it is
said that the confines of heaven and earth meet, is an elevated
retreat, inaccessible to mortals, and closed with eternal
barriers, ever since the author of the first crime was driven
out after his fall, and the guilty saw themselves justly expelled
their happy dweUing. . . . No changes of season there bring
back frost; there the summer sun is not succeeded by the ice
of winter; while elsewhere the circle of the year brings us
stifling heat, or fields whitened by frost, the kindness of
Heaven there maintains an eternal spring; the tumultuous
South wind penetrates not there; the clouds forsake an air
always pure, and a heaven always serene. The soil has no
need of rains to refresh it, and the plants prosper by virtue
of their own dew. The earth is always verdant, and its
surface, animated by a sweet warmth, resplendent with
beauty. Herbs never abandon the hills, the trees never lose
their leaves; and although constantly covered with flowers,
they quickly repair their strength by means of their own
sap. Fruits, which we have but once in the year, there
ripen every month ; there the sun does not wither the
splendour of the lily; no touch stains the violet; the rose
always preserves its colour and graceful form. . . . Odoriferous
balm continually runs from fertile branches. If, by chance,

1 50 HISTORY OF
a slight wind arises, the beautiful forest, skimmed by its
breath, with a sweet murmur agitates its leaves and flowers,
from which escape and spread afar the sweetest perfumes. A
clear fountain runs from a source of which the eye with care
penetrates to the bottom; the most polished gold has no such
splendour ; a crystal of frozen water attracts not so much
light. Emeralds glitter on its shores; every precious stone
which the vain world extols, are there scattered like pebbles,
adorn the fields with the most varied colours, and deck them
as with a natural diadem."1
Now see that of Milton; it is cut into numerous shreds,
and scattered throughout the fourth book of his poem; but I
choose the passage which best corresponds to that which I
have just quoted from the bishop of Vienne:
" Thus was this place
A happy rural seat of various view ;
Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm ;
Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,
Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true,
If true, here only, and of delicious taste :
Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks
Grazing the tender herb, were interpos'd,
Or palmy hillock ; or the flowery lap
Of some irriguous valley, 'spread her store,
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose ;
Another side, umbrageous grots and caves
Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine
Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps
Luxuriant; meanwhile, murmuring waters fall
Down the slope hills, dispers'd, or in a lake,
That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd,
Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams.
The birds their quire apply ; airs, vernal airs,
Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune
The trembling leaves, while universal Pan,
Knit with the graces and the hours in dance,
Led on the eternal spring."2
The description of Saint Avitus is certainly rather superior
1 L. i. De Initio Mundi, v. 211 — 257.
2 Milton, Paradise Lost, iv. 246 — 68.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 151
than inferior to that of Milton; although the first is much
nearer to paganism, he mixes 'far fewer mythological recol
lections in his pictures? the imitation of antiquity is perhaps
less visible, and the description of the beauties of nature ap
pears to me at once more varied and more simple.
In the same book I find a description of the overflowing of
the Nile, which also deserves quotation. You know that, in
all religious traditions, the Nile is one of the four rivers of
Paradise; it is for this reason that the poet names it, and de
scribes its annual inundations.
" Whenever the river, by swelling, extends over its banks
and covers the plains with its black sUme, its waters become
fertile, heaven is calm, and a terrestrial rain spreads on aU
sides. Then Memphis is surrounded with water, is seen in
the midst of a large gulph, and the navigator is seen upon his
fields, which are no longer visible. There is no longer any
limit; boundaries disappear by the decree of the river, which
equalises all and suspends the labours of the year; the shep
herd joyfully sees the fields which he frequents swallowed up;
and the fish, swimming in foreign seas, frequent the places
where the herds fed upon the verdant grass. At last, when
the water has espoused the altered earth and has impregnated
all its germs, the Nile recedes, and re-collects its scattered
waters: the lake disappears; it becomes a river, returns to its
bed, and incloses its floods in the ancient dyke of its banks."1
Many features of this description are marked with faults of
style; we find many of those laboured comparisons, those arti
ficial antitheses, which he takes for poetry: " the terrestrial
rain" for example, " the water espouses the sea,'' &c. ; still the
picture is not devoid of truth and effect. In his poem upon
the Deluge, Saint Avitus has described an analogous pheno
menon, but far more vast and terrible, the fall of the waters
of Heaven, and the simultaneous overflow of all the waters of
the earth, with much vigour and effect; but the length of the
passage forbids my quoting it to you.
In the second book, entitled, Of the Original Sin, the poet
follows, step by step, the sacred traditions; but they do not
subdue his imagination, and he sometimes even elevates him
self to poetical ideas, in which he quits them without positively
» Avitus,!. i. v. 26fi— 281.

152 HISTORY OF
contradicting them. Every one knows the character with
which Milton has invested Satan, and the, originality of that
conception which has preserved in the demon the grandeur of
the angel, carrying down to the pit of evil the glorious traces
of goodness, and thus shedding, over the enemy of God and
man, an interest, which, however, has nothing illegitimate or
perverse. Something of this idea, or rather of this intention^
is found in the poem of Saint Avitus: his Satan is by no
nieans the demon of mere religious traditions, odious, hideous.
wicked, a stranger to all elevated or affectionate feeling. He
has preserved in him some traits of his first state, a certain
moral grandeur; the instinct of the poet has overcome the
doctrine of the bishop ; and although his conception of the
character of Satan is far inferior to that of Milton, although
he could not bring forth in it those combats of the soul, those
fierce contrasts which render the work of the English poet so
admirable, still his is not devoid of originality and energy.
Like Milton, he has painted Satan at the time when he enters
Paradise and perceives Adam and Eve for the first time,
" When he saw," says he, " the new creatures in a peaceful
dwelling, leading a happy and cloudless life, under the law
which they had received from the Lord, with the empire of
the universe, and enjoying, amidst delicious tranquillity, all
which was subjected to them, the flash of jealousy raised a
sudden vapour in his soul, and his burning rage soon became
a terrible fire. It was then not long since he had fallen from
Heaven, and had hurried away with him, into the low pit,
the troop attached to his fate. At this thought, and review
ing his recent disgrace in his heart, it seemed that he had
lost more, since he saw another possessed of such happiness;
and shame mixing itself with envy, he poured out his angry
regrets in these words:
" ' O sorrow! this work of earth is suddenly raised before
us, and our ruin has given birth to this odious race! I,
Virtue! I possessed heaven, and I am now expelled it, and
dust has succeeded to the honour of angels ! A Uttle clay,1
arranged under a pitiful form, will here reign, and the
power torn from us is transferred to him ! But we have not
entirely lost it; the greatest portion thereof remains; we can
and we know to injure. Let us not delay then; this combat
pleases me; I will engage them at their first appearance, while

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 153
their simplicity, which has as yet experienced no deceit, is
ignorant of everything, and offers itself to every blow. It
will be easier to mislead them while they are alone, before
they have thrown a fruitful posterity into the eternity of ages.
Let us not allow anything immortal to come out of the earth;
let us destroy the race at its commencement: O that the defeat
of its chief may become the seed of death; that the principle
of hfe may give rise to the pangs of death; that all may be
struck in one; the root cut, the tree will never raise itself.
These are the consolations which remain to me in my fall. If
I cannot again mount to the heavens, they will at least be
closed for these, creatures: it seems to me less harsh to be
fallen, if the new creatures are lost by a similar fall; if, the
accomplices of my ruin, they become companions of my punish
ment, and share with us the fire which I now catch a glimpse of.
But, in order to attract them without difficulty, it is needful
that I myself, who have faUen so low, should show them the
route which I myself travelled over; that the same pride
which drove me from the celestial kingdom, may chase men
from the boundaries of Paradise.' He thus spoke, and,
heaving a sigh, became silent."1
Now for the Satan of Milton, at the same time, and in the
same situation:
" O hell, what do mine eyes with grief behold !
Into our room of bliss, thus high advane'd,
Creatures of other mouldy earth, born, perhaps,
Not spirits, yet to heavenly spirits bright
Little inferior ; whom my thoughts pursue
With wonder, and could love, so lively shines
In them Divine resemblance, and such grace
The hand that form'd them on their shape hath pour'd.
Ah, gentle pair, ye little think how nigh
Your change approaches, when all these delights
Will vanish, and deliver ye to woe ;
More woe, the more your taste is now of joy ;
Happy, but for so happy, ill secur'd
Long to continue, and this high seat your Heav'n,
111 fenc'd for Heaven to keep out such a foe
As now is entar'd ; yet no purpos'd foe

» Avitus, 1. u, y. 60—117.

154 HISTORY OF
To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn,
Though I unpitied : league with you I seek,
And mutual amity so strait, so close,
That I with you must dwell, or you with me
Henceforth ; my dwelling haply may not please,
Like this fair Paradise, your sense; yet such
Accept your Maker's work; he gave it me,
Which I as freely give: Hell shall unfold,
To entertain you two, her widest gates,
And send forth all her kings ; there will be room,
Not like these narrow limits, to receive
Your numerous offspring; if no better place,
Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge
On you, who wrong me not, for him who wrong'd.
And should 1 at your harmless innocence
Melt as I do, yet public reason just,
Honour and empire with revenge enlarg'd
By conquering this new world, compels me now
To do what else, though damn'd, I should abhor.''
Here the superiority of Milton is great. He gives to Satan
far more elevated, more impassioned, more complex feelings
— perhaps even too complex — and his words are far more
eloquent. Still there is a remarkable analogy between the
two passages; and the simple energy, the menacing unity of
the Satan of Saint Avitus, seem to me to be very effective.
The third book describes the despair of Adam and Eve
after their fall, the coming of God, his judgment, and their
expulsion from. Paradise. " You will surely remember that
famous passage of Milton, after the judgment of God, when
Adam sees everything overthrown around him, and expects
to be driven out of Paradise; he abandons himself to the
harshest rage against the woman:
" Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld,
Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh,
Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd:
But her with stern regard he thus repell'd:
' Out of my sight, thou serpent! that name best
Befits thee with him leagu'd, thyself as false
And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape,
¦ Milton, Paradise Lost, iv. 358—392.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 155
Like his, and colour serpentine, may show
Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee
Henceforth ; least that too heavenly form pretended
To hellish falsehood, snare them. But for thee
I had persisted happy ; had not thy pride
And wandering vanity, when least was safe,
Rejected my forewarning, and disdained,
Not to be trusted ; longing to be seen,
Though by the devil himself ; him overweening
To overreach ; but with the serpent meeting,
Fool'd and beguil'd ; by him, thou, I by thee.
To trust thee from my side, imagin'd wise,
Constant, mature, proof against all assaults;
And understood not all was but a show,
Rather than solid virtue ; all but a rib
Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears,
More to the part sinister, from me drawn ;
Will if thrown out as supernumerary,
To my just number found. O! why did God,
Creator wise, that peopled highest Heaven
With spirits masculine, create at last
This novelty on earth, this fair defect
Of nature, and not fill the world at once
With men and angels, without feminine ;
Or find some other way to generate
Mankind ? This mischief had not then befall'n,
And more that shall befall ; innumerable
Disturbances on earth through female snares,
And strait conjunction with this sex."1
The same idea occurred to Saint Avitus; only that it is to
God himself, not to Eve, that Adam addresses the explosion
of his rage:
" When thus he saw himself condemned, and that the most
just inquiry had made evident all his fault, he did not humbly
ask his pardon and pray; he answered not with shrieks and
tears; he sought not to deter, with suppliant confession, tho
deserved punishment; already miserable, he invoked no pity.
He erected himself, he irritated himself, and his pride broke
out into insensate clamours: 'It was then to bring my ruin,
that this woman was united to my fate? That which, by thy
1 Milton, Paradise Lost, x. 863—897.

156 HISTORY OF
first law, thou hast giveii for a dwelling: it is she who, over
come herself, has conquered me with her sinister councils; it
is she who has persuaded me to take that fruit which she
herself already knew. She is the source of evil; from her
came crime. I was credulous; but thou, Lord, taught me to
believe her by giving her to me in marriage, in joining me to
her by sweet knots. Happy if my life, at first solitary, had
always so run on, if I had never known the ties of such an
union, and the yoke of this fatal companion !' >.
" At this outburst of irritated Adam, the Creator addressed
these severe words to desolate Eve: ' Why, in falling, hast
drawn down thy unhappy spouse? Deceitful woman, why,
instead of remaining alone in thy fall, hast thou dethroned the
superior reason of the man?' She, fuU of shame, her cheeks
covered with a sorrowful blush, said that the serpent had
persuaded her to touch the forbidden fruit."1
Does not this passage appear at least equal to that of
Milton? It is even free from the subtle details which dis
figure the latter, and diminish the progress of the sentiment.
The book terminates with the prediction of the advent of
Christ, who shall triumph over Satan. But with this con
clusion the poet describes the very leaving of Paradise, and
these last verses are, perhaps, the most beautiful in the poem:
" At these words, the Lord clothes them both with the
skins of beasts, and drives them from the happy retreat of
Paradise. They fall together to the earth; they enter upon
the desert world, and wander about with rapid steps. The
world is covered with trees and turf; it has green meadows,
and fountains and rivers; and yet its face appears hideous to
them after thine, O Paradise! and they are horror-struck
with it; and, according to the nature of men, they love better
what they have lost. The earth is narrow to them; they
do not see its limits, and yet they feel confined, and they
groan. Even the day is dark to their eyes, and under the
clear sun, they complain that the light has disappeared."2
The three other poems of Saint Avitus, the Deluge, the
Passage of the Red Sea, and the Praise of Virginity, are very
inferior to what I have just quoted; still some remarkable
fragments may be found in them, and certainly we have
' Avitus, 1. iii. v. 96—112. 2 Ibid. v. 193—207.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 157
reason to be astonished that a work which contains such
beauties should remain so obscure. But the age of Saint
Avitus is all obscure, and he has faUen under the general
decay in the midst of which he lived.
I named a second poet, Fortunatus, bishop of Poictiers.
He was not of Gaulish origin; he was born in 530, beyond
the Alps, near Ceneda, in the Trevisan; and about 565, a
little before the great invasion of the Lombards, and the de
solation of the north of Italy, he passed into Gaul, and stopped
in Austrasia at the time of the marriage of Sigebert and
Brunehault, daughter of Athanagilde, king of Spam. It ap
pears that he remained there one or two years, making epithala-
niums, laments, a court poet there, devoted to the celebration
of its adventures and pleasures. We then find him at Tours,
paying his devotions to Saint Martin; he was then a layman.
Saint Radegonde, wife of Clotaire I., had just retired, and
founded a monastery of nuns. Fortunatus connected him
self with her in close friendship, entered into orders, and
soon became her chaplain, and almoner of the monastery.
From this period, no remarkable incident of his life is known.
Seven or eight years after the death of Saint Radegonde, he
was made bishop of Poictiers, and there died at the beginning
of the seventh century, after having long celebrated with his
verses aU the great men of his age, and having been in assi
duous correspondence with all the great bishops.
Independently of seven Uves of saints, of some letters or
theological treatises in prose, of four books of hexameters on
the Ufe of Saint Martin of Tours, which are merely a poetical
version of the Ufe of the same saint by Sulpicius Severus,
and some trifling works which are lost, there remain of him
two hundred and forty-nine pieces of verse in all kinds of
metres, of which two hundred and forty-six were collected by
himself in eleven books, and three are separate. Of these
two hundred and forty-nine pieces, there are fifteen in honour
of certain churches, cathedrals, oratories, &c, composed at
the time of their construction or dedication; thirty epitaphs;
twenty-nine pieces to Gregory of Tours, or concerning him;
twenty-seven to Saint Radegonde, or to sister Agnes, abbess
¦of the monastery of Poictiers, and one hundred and forty-
eight other pieces to all sorts of persons, and upon aU sorts of
subjects.

158

HISTORY OF

Tho pieces addressed to Saint Radegonde, or to the abbess
Agnes, are incontestably those which best make known and
characterise the turn of mind, and the kind of poetry, of For
tunatus. On these only I shall dweU.
One is naturally led to attach to the relations of such
persons the most serious ideas, and it is, in fact, under a
grave aspect that they have been described : It has
been mistakenly; do not suppose that I have here to relate
some strange anecdote, or that this history is subject to the
embarrassment of some scandal. There is nothing scandalous,
nothing equivocal, nothing which lends the slightest malig
nant conjecture, to be met with in the relations between the
bishop and the nuns of Poictiers; but they are of a futility,
of a puerility which it is impossible to overlook, for even the
poems of Fortunatus are a monument of them.
These are the titles of sixteen of the twenty-seven pieces
addressed to Saint Radegonde, or to Saint Agnes:
Book VIII., piece 8, to Saint Radegonde upon violets.
9, upon flowers put on the altar.
10, upon flowers which he sent her.
Book XL, piece 4, to Saint Radegonde for her to drink
wine.
1 1 , to the abbess upon flowers.
13, upon chesnuts.
14, upon milk.
15, idem.
16, upon a repast.
18, upon sloes.
19, upon milk and other dainties.
20, upon eggs and plums.
22, upon a repast.
23, idem.
24, idem.
25, idem.

Now see some samples of the pieces themselves; they prove
that the titles do not deceive us.
" In the midst of my fasting," writes he to Saint Radegonde,
" thou sendest me various meats, and at the sight of them
thou painest my mind. My eyes contemplate what the doctor

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 159
forbids me to use, and his hand interdicts what my mouth
desires. Still when thy goodness gratifies us with this milk,
thy gifts surpass those of kings. Rejoice, therefore, I pray
thee, Uke a good sister with our pious mother, for at this
moment I have the sweet pleasure of being at table."1
And elsewhere, after having a repast: "Surrounded by
various delicacies, and all kinds of ragouts, sometimes I sleep,
sometimes I eat; I open my mouth, then I close my eyes,
and I again eat of everything; my mind was confused, be-
Ueve it, most dear ones, and I could not easily either speak
with liberty, or write verses. A drunken man has an un
certain hand; wine produced the same effect upon me as upon
other drinkers; methinks I see the table swimming in pure
wine. However, as weU as I am able, I have traced in soft
language this little song for my mother and my sister, and
although sleep sharply presses me, the affection which I bear
for them has inspired what the hand is scarcely in a state to
write."2 It is not by way of amusement that I insert these singular
quotations, which it would be easy for me to multiply; I de
sire, on the one hand, to place before your eyes a view of the
manners of this epoch, which are but little known; and on the
other, to enable you to see, and, so to speak, to touch with
your finger, the origin of a kind of poetry which has held
rather an important place in our literature, of that light and
mocking poetry which, beginning with our old fabliaux, down
to Ver-vert, has been pitilessly exercised upon the weakness
and ridiculous points of the interior of monasteries. Fortu
natus, to be sure, did not mean to jest; actor and poet at
the same time, he spoke and wrote very seriously to Saint
Radegonde and the abbess Agnes; but the very manners which
this kind of poetry took for a text, and which so long pro
voked French fancy, that puerility, that laziness, that gluttony,
associated with the gravest relations, — you see them begin
here with the sixth century, and under exactly the same
traits with those which Marot or Gresset lent to them ten or
twelve centuries later.
However, the poems of Fortunatus have not all of
> Tertun Carm., 1. xi. No. 19; Bib. Pat., vol. v. p. 596.
» Ibid. No. 24; ibid.

160 HISTORY OF
them this character. Independently of some beautiful sacred
hymns, one of which, the Vexilla Regis, was officially adopted
by the church, there is in many of these small lay and religious
poems a good deal of imagination, of intellect, and animation.
I shall only quote a passage from an elegiac poem of three
hundred and seventy-one verses, about the departure of Gal
suinthe, sister of Brunehault, from Spain, her arrival in
France, her marriage with Chilperic, and her deplorable end;
I select the lamentations of Galsuinthe, her mother, wife of
Athanagilde; she sees her daughter about to quit her, embraces
her, looks at her, embraces her again, and cries:
" Spain, so full of inhabitants, and too confined for a mother,
land of the sun, become a prison to me, although thou extendest
from the country of Zephyr to that of the burning Eous, from
Tyrhenia to the ocean — although thou sufficest for numerous
nations, since my daughter is not longer here, thou art too
narrow for me. Without thee, my daughter, I shall be here
as a foreigner and wanderer, and, in my native country, at
once a citizen and an exile. I ask, what shall these eyes look
at which everywhere seek my daughter? . . . Whatever infant
plays with me will be a punishment; thou wilt weigh upon
my heart in the embraces of another: let another run, step,
seat herself, weep, enter, go out, thy dear image will always
be before my eyes. When thou shalt have quitted me, I shall
hasten to strange caresses, and, groaning, I shall press another
face to my withered breast; I shall dry with my kisses the
tears of another child; I shall drink of them; and may it
please God that I may thus find some refreshment for my de
vouring thirst! Whatever I do, I shall be tormented, no
remedy can console me; I perish, O Galsuinthe, by the wound
which comes to me from thee! I ask what dear hand will
dress, will ornament thy hair? Who, when I shall, not be
there, will cover thy soft cheeks with kisses? Who will warm
thee in her bosom, who carry thee on her knees, surround
thee with her arms? Alas! when thou shalt be without me,
thoi; wilt have no mother. For the rest, my sad heart charges
thee at the time of thy departure: be happy, I implore thee;
but leave me: go: farewell: send through the air some conso
lation to thy impatient mother; and, if the wind bears me any
news, let it be favourable,"1
i Fortun. Carm., 1. vi. No. 7; Bib. Pat., vol. x. p. 563

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 161
The subtlety and affectation of bad rhetoric are to be found
in this passage; but its emotion is sincere, and the expres
sion ingenious and vivid. Many pieces of Fortunatus have
the same merits.
I shaU prosecute this inquiry no further; I think I have
fully justified what I said in commencing: sacred Uterature is'
not there; the habits, and even the metrical forms of the dying
pagan Uterature, are clearly stamped upon them. Ausonius
is more elegant, more correct, more Ucentious than Fortunatus;
but, speaking UteraUy, the bishop is a continuation of the
consul; Latin tradition was not dead; it had passed into the
Christian society; and here commences that imitation which,
amid the universal overthrow, unites the modern to the ancient
world, and, at a later period, will play so considerable a part
in all literature.
We must pause: we have just studied the intellectual state
of Frankish Gaul from the sixth to the eighth century. This
study completes for us that of the development of our civiliza
tion during the same period, that is, under the empire of the
Merovingian kings. Another epoch, stamped with the same
character, began with the revolution which raised the family
of the Pepins to the throne of the Franks. In our next lec
ture I shall attempt to describe the revolution itself ; and we
shall then enter into the new paths which it forced France to
take.

VOL. II.

182 HISTORY OF

NINETEENTH LECTURE.

The causes and the character of the revolution which substituted the Car-
lovingians for the Merovingians — Recapitulation of the history of civi
lization in France under the Merovingian kings — The Frankish state
in its relations with the neighbouring nations — The Frankish state in
its internal organization — The aristocratical element prevailed in it, but
without entirety or regularity — The state of the Frankish church —
Episcopacy prevails in it, but is itself thrown into decay — Two new
powers arise — 1st. The Austrasian Franks — Mayors of the palace — The
family of the Pepins — 2. Papacy — Circumstances favourable to its pro
gress — Causes which drew and united the Austrasian Franks to the
popes — The conversion of the Germans beyond the Ehine— Relations
of the Anglo-Saxon missionaries, on the one hand with the popes, on
the other, with the mayors of the palace of Australia — Saint Boniface —
The popes have need of the Austrasian Franks against the Lombards —
Pepin-le-Bref has need of the pope to make himself king — Their alliance
and the new direction which it impressed upon .civilization — Conclu
sion of the first part of the course.
We have arrived at the eve of a great event, of the revo
lution which threw the last of the Merovingians into a
cloister, and carried the Carlovingians to the throne of the
Franks. It was consummated in the month of March 752,
in the semi-day and semi-ecclesiastical assembly held at Sois-
sons, where Pepin was proclaimed king, and consecrated by
Boniface, archbishop of Mayence. Never was a revolution
brought about with less effort and noise; Pepin possessed the
power: the fact was converted into right; no resistance was
offered him; no protest of sufficient importance to leave a
trace in history. Everything seemed to remain the same;
a title, merely, was changed. Yet there can be no doubt but

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 163
that a great event was thus accomplished; there can be no doubt
but that this change was the indication of the end of a parti
cular social state, of the commencement of a new state, a
crisis, a veritable epoch in the history of French civilization.
It is this crisis that I wish to bring before you at present.
I wish to recapitulate the history of civiUzation under the
Merovingians, to indicate how it came to end in such a
result, and to represent the new character, the new direction
which it was obliged to take under the Carlovingians, by
plainly setting forth the transition and its causes.
Civil society and religious society are evidently the two
fold subject of this recapitulation. We have studied them
separately, and in their relations; we shall so study them in the
period upon which we are about to enter. It is necessary that
we should know exactly at what point they had each arrived at
the crisis which now occupies us, and what was their reci
procal situation.
I commence with civil society. From the opening of this
course, we have been speaking of the foundation of modern
states, and in particular of the Frank state. We marked its
origin at the reign of Clovis; it is even by concession that we
are permitted not to go farther back, not to go to Pharamond.
Let it be understood, however, that even in the epoch at which
we have arrived, at the end of the Merovingian race, there was
nothing estabUshed which the Franko-Gaulish society had,
nothing invested with a somewhat stable and general form, that
no principle prevailed in it so completely as to regulate it;
that neither within nor without did the Frankish state exist;
that in Gaul there was no state at all.
What do we mean by a State? a certain extent of territory
having a determinate centre, fixed limits, inhabited by men
who have a common name, and live involved, in certain
respects, in the same destiny. Nothing like this existed
in the middle of the eighth century, in what we now call
France. You know how many Idngdoms had there alternately ap
peared and disappeared. The kingdoms of Metz, boissons,
Orleans, Paris, had given place to the kingdoms of Neustria,
Austrasia, Burgundy, Aquitaine, incessantly changing mas
ters, frontiers, extent, and importance; reduced at length to
two, the kingdoms o£ Austrasia and Neustria, even these two
m 2

1G4 HISTORl OF
had nothing stable or regular, their chiefs and their limits
continually varied; the kings and the provinces continually
passed from one to the other; so that even in the interior of
the territory occupied by the Frankish population, no poli
tical association had any consistency or firmness.
The external frontiers were stiU more uncertain. On the
east and north the movement of the invasion of. the German
nations continued. The Thuringians, the Bavarians, the
AUemandi, the Frisons, the Saxons, incessantly made efforts
to pass the Rhine, and take their share of the territory which
the Franks occupied. In order to resist them, the Franks
crossed the Rhine; they ravaged, at several times, the
countries of the Thuringians, the AUemandi, and the
Bavarians, and reduced these nations to a subordinate con
dition, doubtless very precarious, and incapable of exact
definition. But the Frisons and Saxons escaped this semi-
defeat, and the Austrasian Franks were forced to maintain an
incessant warfare against them, which prevented their fron
tiers from gaining the least regularity on this side.
On the west, the Britons and all the tribes established in
the peninsula known under the name of Armorica, kept the
frontiers of the Neustrian Franks in the same state of un
certainty. In the south, in Provence, Narbonnese, and Aquitaine,
it was no longer from the movement of the barbarous and
half wandering colonies that the fluctuation proceeded; but
there was fluctuation. The ancient Roman population inces
santly laboured to regain its independence. The Franks had
conquered, but did not fully possess these countries. When
their great incursions ceased, the towns and country districts
rebelled, and confederated in order to shake off the yoke. A
new cause of agitation and instability was joined to their
efforts. Mohammedanism dates its rise from the 16th of
July, 622; and at the end of the same century, or at least at
the commencement of the eighth, it inundated the south of Italy,
nearly the whole of Spain, the south of Gaul, and made on
this side a still more impetuous effort than that of the German
nations on the borders of the Rhine. Thus, on aU points, on
the north, the east, the west, and the south, the Frankish
territory was incessantly invaded, its frontiers changed at
the mercy of incessantly repeated incursions. Upon the

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 165
whole, there can be no doubt but that, in this vast extent, of
country, the Frankish population dominated ; it was the
strongest, the most numerous, the most established; but still
it was without territorial consistency, without political unity;
as distinct frontier nations, and under the point of view of the
law of nations, the state, properly so called, did not exist.
Let us enter into the interior of the Gaulo-Frankish society;
we shall not find it any more advanced; it will offer us no
greater degree of entirety or fixedness.
You will recollect that, in examining the institutions of the
German nations before the invasion, I showed that they could
not be transplanted into the Gaulish territory, and that the
free institutions, in particular the government of public
affairs by assemblies of free men, become inapplicable to the
new situation of the conquerors, had almost entirely perished.
Even the class of free men, that condition of which individual
independence and equality were the essential characteristics,
continually diminished in number and importance; it was
evidently not this class, nor the system of institutions and
influences analogous to its nature, that was to prevail in the
Gaulo-Frankish society, and govern it. Liberty was then a
cause of disorder, not a principle of organization.
In the first periods foUowing the invasion, royalty, as you
have seen, made some progress; it collected some wreck of
the inheritance of the empire; religious ideas gave it some
power: but this progress soon stopped; the time of the centrali
zation of power was still far distant; all means of gaining
obedience were wanting; obstacles arose on all sides. The
speedy and irremediable humiliation of the Merovingian royalty
proves how Uttle capable the monarchical principle was of
possessing and regulating the Gaulo-Frankish society. It
was nearly as impotent as the principle of free institutions.
The aristocratical principle prevailed: it was to the great
proprietors, each on his domain, to the companions of the
king, the antrustions, leudes, fideles, that the power actually
belonged. But the aristocratical principle itself was incapable
of giving any stable or general organization to society; it
prevailed in it, but with as much disorder as would have
flowed from any other system, without conferring any more
simple or regular form. Consult all modern historians
who have attempted to describe and explain this epoch.

1GS HISTORY OF
Some have sought its key in the struggle of the free men
against the leudes, that is, the conquering nation against
that which was to become the nobility of the court; others
adhere to the diversity of races, and will speak of the
struggle of the Germans against the Gauls; others, again,
attach great importance to the struggle of the clergy against
the laity, the bishops against the great barbarian proprietors,
and there see the secret of most of the events. Others,
again, especially insist upon the struggle of the kings
themselves against their companions, their leudes, who aspired
to the rendering themselves independent, and annulling and
invading the royal power. AU, in some measure, have a
different word for the enigma which the social state of
this epoch presents: a great reason for presuming that no
word can explain it. All these struggles in fact existed; all
these forces contested without any of them gaining enough
of the ascendancy to dominate with any regularity. The
aristocratic tendency, which must have arisen later than the,
feudal system, was certainly dominant; but no institution, no
permanent organization, could yet arise from it.
Thus, within and without, whether we consider the social
order or the political order, everything was restless, inces
santly brought into question; nothing appeared destined to
a long or powerful development.
From civil society let us pass to religious society; the
recapitulation, if I mistake not, wiU show it to be in the same
state. The idea of the unity of the church was general -and domi
nant in minds; but in facts it was far from having the same
extension, the same power. No general principle, no go
vernment, properly so called, reigned in the Gaulo-Frankish
church ; it was, like civil society, an entire chaos.
And first, the remains of the free institutions which had
presided at the first development of Christianity, had almost
entirely disappeared. You have seen them gradually reduced
to the participation of the clergy in the election of bishops,
to the influence of councils in the general administration of
the church. You have seen the election of bishops, and the
influence of councils decline, and almost vanish in their turn.
At the commencement of the eighth century, a mere vaiu

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 167
shadow remained of them; the bishops, for the most part,
owed their elevation to the orders of kings, of or the mayors
of the palace, or to some such form of violence. Councils
scarcely ever met. No legal, constituted Uberty preserved
any real power in the religious society.
We have seen the dawn of universal monarchy; we have
seen papacy take a marked ascendancy in the west. Do
not suppose, however, that at the epoch which occupies us,
and in Gaul especially, this ascendancy resembled a real
authority, a form of government. Nay, at the end of the
seventh century it was in a rapid decay. When the Franks
were established in Gaul, the popes tried to preserve with
these new masters the credit which they had enjoyed under
the Roman empire. At the fifth century the bishop of Rome
possessed considerable domains in southern Gaul, especially
in the diocese of Aries, a powerful means of relation and
influence with those countries. They remained to him under
the Visigoth, Burgundian, or Frank kings, and the bishop of
Aries continued to be habitually his vicar, as much for his
personal interests, as for the general affairs of the church.
Thus the relations of the popes with the Frank kings were
frequent in the sixth and at the beginning of the seventh
century; numerous monuments of them have come down to
us; among others, a letter from Gregory the Great to Brune
hault: and upon some occasions, the Franks themselves had
recourse to the intervention of papacy. But in the course
of the seventh century, by a multitude of rather complex
causes, this intervention almost entirely ceased. We find
from Gregory the Great to Gregory II. (from the year 604
to the year 715) scarcely a single letter, a single document,
which proves any correspondence between the masters of
Frankish Gaul and the papacy.
The prodigious disorder which then reigned in Gaul, the
instabuity of aU kingdoms, and of all kings, doubtless con
tributed to it: no one had any time to think of contracting
or keeping up relations so distant; everything was decided
at once upon the spot, and on direct and immediate motives.
Beyond the Alps almost equal disorder reigned; the Lom
bards invaded Italy, and menaced Rome; a personal and
pressing danger retained the attention of the papacy within

168 HISTORY OF
the circle of its own peculiar interests. Besides, the composi
tion of the episcopacy of the Gauls was no longer the same;
many barbarians had entered into it, strangers to all the recol
lections, all the customs which had so long united the Gaulish
bishops to the bishop of Rome. All circumstances con
curred to make null the religious relations between Rome
and Gaul; so that at the end of the seventh century, the
Gaulo-Frankish church was no more governed by the prin
ciple of universal monarchy, than by that of common delibera
tion ; papacy was scarcely more powerful than liberty.
There, as elsewhere, in religious society as in civil
society, the aristocratical principle had prevailed. It was to
episcopacy that the government of the Gaulo-Frankish church
belonged. It was administered during the fifth and sixth
century, with a good deal of regularity and continuity; but
in the course of the seventh, from the causes which I have
already spoken of, the episcopal aristocracy fell into the
same corruption, the same anarchy which seized upon the
civil aristocracy; the metropolitans lost all authority; mere
priests lost all influence; many bishops reckoned more on their
influence as proprietors, than on their mission as chiefs of the
church. Many of the laity received or usurped the bishoprics as
private domains. Each occupied himself with his temporal or
diocesan interests; aU unity vanished in the government of the
secular clergy. The monastic order presented a similar aspect;
the rule of Saint Benedict was commonly adopted in it, but no
general administration connected the various establishments
among themselves; each monastery ruled and governed itself
apart; so that, at the end of the seventh century, the
Aristocratical system, which dominated alike in church and
state, was here almost as disordered, almost as incapable of
giving rise to any approach to a general and regular govern
ment. Nothing, therefore, was established at this epoch, in either
one or other of the two societies from which modern society
has arisen. The absence of rule and public authority was,
perhaps, more complete than immediately after the faU of
the empire; then, at all events, the wrecks of Roman and
German institutions still subsisted, and maintained some-
kind of social order amidst the most agitated events. When

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 169
the fall of the Merovingian race approached, even these
wrecks had fallen into ruin, and no new edifice had as yet
arisen; there was scarcely a trace of the imperial adminis
tration, or of the mals or assemblies of the free men of
Germany, and the feudal organization was not seen. Per
haps at no epoch has the chaos been so great, or the State
had so little existence.
Still, under this general dissolution, two new forces, two
principles of organization and government, were being pre
pared in civil and religious society, destined to approach
each other and to unite, in order, at last, to make an attempt
to put an end to the chaos, and to give to church and state
the entirety and fixity which they wanted.
Whoever wiU observe, attentively, the distribution of the
Franks over the Gaulish territory, from the sixth to the
eighth century, wiU be stru6k with a considerable differ
ence between the Franks of Austrasia, situated on the
borders of the Rhine, the Moselle, and the Meuse, and that of
the Franks of Neustria, transplanted into the centre, the
west and the south of Gaul. The first were probably more
numerous, and certainly less dispersed. They still kept to
that soil whence the Germans drew their power and fertility,
so to speak, as Antasus did from the earth. The Rhine
alone separated them from ancient Germany; they lived in
continual relation, hostile or pacific, with the German and
partly Frankish colonies who inhabited the right bank.
Still they were well established in their new country, and
wished firmly to guard it. They were also less separated
from the manners of the ancient German society than were
the Neustrian Franks, and, at the same time, having become
proprietors, they daily more and more contracted the wants
and habits of their new situation, and of the social organization
which might be adapted to it. Two facts, apparently contra
dictory, bring out into bold relief this particular characteristic
of the Austrasian Franks. It was more especially from Aus
trasia that those bands of warriors set out whom we see, in tho
course of the sixth and seventh centuries, still spreading over
Italy and the south of Gaul, and there abandoning themselves
to a life of incursion and pillage; and yet it is in Austrasia
that the most remarkable monuments of the passage of the

170 HISTORY OF
Franks into the condition of proprietors are seen; upon
the borders of the Rhine, the Moselle, and the Meuse, are the
strongest of 'those habitations of theirs which became castles,
so that Austrasian society is the most complete and faithful
image of the ancient manners and the new situation of the.
Franks; it is there that one least meets with Roman o*
heterogeneous elements; it is there that the spirit of con
quest and the territorial spirit, the instincts of the proprietor
and those of the warrior are allied, and display themselves
with the greatest energy.
A fact so important could not fail to become evident, and to
exercise a great influence over the course of events; the
Austrasian 'society could not but give rise to some institution,
some power, which expressed and developed its character.
This was the part taken of its mayors of the palace, and in
particular by the family of the Pepins.
The mayor of the palace is met with in all the Frankish
kingdoms. I shall not enter here into a long liistory of the
institution, I shall confine myself to remarking its character
and general vicissitudes. The mayors were at first merely
the first superintendents, the first administrators of the interior
of the palace of the king; the chiefs whom he put at the head
of his companions, of his leudes, stiU united around him. It was
their duty to maintain order among the king's men, to admi-,
nister justice, to look to all the affairs, to all the wants, of that
great domestic society. They were the men of the king with
the leudes; this was their first character, their first state.
Now for the second. After having exercised the power of
the king over his leudes, his mayors of the palace usurped it
to their own profit. The leudes, by grants of pubUc charges
and fiefs, were not long befpre they became great proprietors.
This new situation was superior to that of companions of
the king; they detached themselves from him, and united in
order to defend their common interests. According as their
fortune dictated, the mayors of the palace sometimes resisted
them, more often united with them, and, at first servants of
the king, they at last became the chiefs of an aristocracy,
against whom royalty could do nothing.
These are the two principal phases of this institution: it gained
more extension and fixedness in Austrasia, in the family of the
Pepins, who possessed it almost a century and a half, than any-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 1~1
where else. At once great proprietors, usufructuaries of the royal
power, and warlike chiefs, Pepin-le-Vieux, Pepin i'Heristal,
Charles Martel, and Pepin-le-Bref, by turns defended these
various interests, appropriated their power to themselves, and
thus found themselves the representatives of the aristocracy, of
royalty, and of that mind, at once territorial and conquering,
which animated the Franks of Austrasia, and secured to them
the preponderance. There resided the principle of Ufe and
organization which was to take hold of civil society, and
draw it, at least for some time, from the state of anarchy and
impotence into which it was plunged. The Pepins were the
depositories of its power, the instrument of its action.
In the religious society, but out of the Frank territory, a
power was also developed capable of introducing, or at least
of attempting to introduce, order and reformation into it:
this was papacy.
I shall not repeat here what I have already said of the first
origin of papacy, and of the religious causes to which it owed
the progressive extension of its power. Independently of
these causes, and in a purely temporal point of view, the
bishop of Rome found himself placed in the most favourable
situation. Three circumstances, you will recollect, especially
contributed to establish the power of the bishops in general:
1st, their vast domains, which caused them to take a place in
that hierarchy of great proprietors to which European society
had belonged for so long a period; 2nd, their intervention in
the municipal system, and the preponderance which they
exercised in cities, by being directly or indirectly receiving
the inheritance of the ancient magistracies; 3rd, their quality
as councillors of the temporal power; they surrounded the
new kings, and directed them in their attempts at govern
ment. Upon this triple base the episcopal power raised
itself in the rising states. The bishop of Rome was, more
than any ether, prepared to profit by it. Like others, he was
a great proprietor. At a very early period he possessed con
siderable domains in the Campagna di Roma, in the south of
Italy, and upon the borders of the Adriatic sea. Considered
as a councillor of the temporal power, no one had so good a
chance : instead, like the Frank, Spanish, Anglo- Saxon,
bishops, of being the servant of a king present, he was the
representative, the vicar of a king absent; he depended ou

172 HISTORY OF
the emperor of the east, a sovereign who rarely cramped his
administration, and never eclipsed it. The Empire, it is
true, had other representatives than the pope in Italy; the
exarch of Ravenna, and a duke who resided at Rome, were
the real delegates with regard to the civil administration;
but, in the interior of Rome, the attributes of the bishop
in civil matters, and in default of attributes, his influence in
other respects, conferred almost all the power, upon him. The
emperors neglected nothing to retain him in their dependence;
they carefully preserved the right of confirming his election;
he paid them certain tributes, and constantly maintained at
Constantinople, under the name of Apocrisiary, an agent
charged to manage all his affairs there, and to answer for
his fideUty. But if these precautions retarded the complete
and external emancipation of the popes, it did not prevent
their independence being great, nor, under the title of dele
gates of the emperor, their daily approaching nearer to be
coming its successors.
As municipal magistrates, as chiefs of the people within the
walls of Rome, their situation was not less advantageous. You
have seen that in the remainder of the west, particularly in
Gaul, and as the inevitable effect of the disasters of the inva
sion, the municipal system was declining ; there certainly
remained its wrecks, and the bishop almost alone disposed of
them ; but they were only wrecks ; the importance of the
municipal magistrates was daily lowered under the violent
blows of counts, or other barbarous chiefs. It was far from
being thus in Rome: there the municipal system, instead
of being weakened was fortified. Rome in no way remained
in the possession of the barbarians; they only pillaged it in
passing; the imperial power was too distant to be real; the
municipal system soon became the only government; the in
fluence of the Roman people in its affairs was much more
active, much more efficacious, at the sixth and seventh cen
turies, that it had been in preceding ages. The municipal
magistrates became political magistrates; and the bishop who,
under forms more or less fixed, by means more or less direct,
was in some measure their chief, took the first lead in this
general and unperceived elevation towards a kind of sove
reignty, while elsewhere the episcopal power arose not be
yond the limits of a narrow and doubtful administration.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 173
Thus, as proprietors, counciUors of sovereign, and as popular
magistrates, the bishops of Rome had the best chances; and
while religious circumstances tended to increase their power,
political circumstances had the same result, and impeUed them in
the same paths. Thus, in the course of the sixth and seventh
centuries, papacy gained a degree of importance in Italy, which
it had formerly been very far from possessing; and although
at the end of this epoch it was a stranger to Frankish Gaul,
although its relations both with the kings and with the Frank
clergy had become rare, yet, such was its general progress,
that in setting foot again in the monarchy of the Frankish
church, it did not fail to appear there with a force and credit
superior to all rivalry.
Here, then, we see two new powers which were formed
and confirmed amidst the general dissolution; in the Frank
state, the mayors of the palace Df Austrasia; in the Chris
tian church, the popes; here are two active, energetic prin
ciples, which seem disposed to take possession, the one of
civil society, the other of religious society, and capable of
attempting some work of organization, of establishing some
government therein.
It was, in fact, by the influence of these two principles,
and of their alliance, that, in the middle of the eighth century,
the great crisis of which we seek the character shone forth.
After the fifth century, papacy took the lead in the con
version of the pagans; the clergy of the various states of the
west, occupied both in its religious local duties, and in its
temporal duties, had almost abandoned this great enterprise:
the monks alone, more interested and less indolent, continued
to occupy themselves arduously in it. The bishop of Rome
undertook to direct them, and they in general accepted
him for a chief. At the end of the sixth century, Gregory
the Great accomplished the most important of these conver
sions, that of the Anglo-Saxons estabUshed in Britain. By
his orders, Roman monks set out to undertake it. They
began with the county of Kent, and Augustin, one among
them, was the first archbishop of Canterbury. The Anglo-
Saxon church was thus, at the seventh century, the only
one in the west which owed its origin to the Romish
church. Italy, Spain, and Gaul, had become Christians with
out the help of papacy; their churches were not bound to that

174 HISTORY OP
of Rome by a filial power; they were her sisters, not her
daughters. Britain, on the contrary, received her faith
and her first preachers from Rome. She was, therefore, at
this epoch, far more than any other church in the west, in
habitual correspondence with the popes, devoted to their
interests, docile to their authority. By a natural consequence,.
and also by reason of the similitude of idioms, it was more
especially with the Anglo-Saxon monks that the popes un
dertook the conversion of the other pagan nations of Europe,
among others, of Germany. One need only glance over the
lives of the saints of the seventh and eighth centuries to be
convinced that the greater part of the missionaries sent to
the Bavarians, the Frisons, the Saxons, Willibrod, Rupert
Willibald, Winfried, came from Britain. They could not
labour at this work without entering into frequent rela
tions with the Austrasian Franks, and their chiefs. The
Austrasians on all sides bordered the nations beyond the
Rhine, and were incessantly struggling to prevent them from
again inundating the west. The missionaries were obliged to
traverse their territory, and to obtain their support, in order to
penetrate into the barbarous countries. They thereforerfailed
not to claim that support. Gregory the Great even ordered
the monks whom he sent into Britain to pass through Austrasia,
and recommended them to the two kings, Theodoric and Theo-
debert, who then reigned at Chalons and at Metz. The re
commendation was far more necessary and pressing when the
matter in hand was to convert the German colonies. The
Austrasian chiefs on their side, Arnoul, Pepin l'Herital,
and Charles Martel, were not long in foreseeing what advan
tages such labours might have for them. In becoming Chris
tians, these troublesome colonies were obliged to- become fixed,
to submit to some regular influence, at least to enter into the
path of civilization. Besides, the missionaries were excellent
explorers of those countries with which communication was
so difficult of accomplishment; by their mediation could he
procured information and advice. Where could be found such
skilful agents, such useful allies? Accordingly, the alliance was
soon concluded. It was in Austrasia that the missionaries
who were spread over Germany found their principal fulcrum;
it was from thence that they set, to it that they returned; it was
to the kingdom of Austrasia that they annexed their spiritual

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 175
conquests; it was with the masters of Austrasia on the one
hand, and with the popes on the other, that they were in in
timate and constant correspondence. Glance at the life,
follow the works of the most illustrious and most powerful
among them, namely, Saint Boniface, and you wiU recognise
all the facts of which I have just spoken.
Saint Boniface was an Anglo-Saxon, born about 680,
at Crediton, in the county of Devon, and caUed Winfried.
A monk in the monastery of Exeter at a very early period,
and later, in that of NutseU, it is not known whence came
his design of devoting himself to the conversion of the German
nations; perhaps he merely followed the example of many of
his compatriots. However this may be, from the year 715,
we find him preaching amidst the Frisons; incessantly re
newed warfare between them and the Austrasian Franks
drove him from their country; he returned to his own, and
re-entered the monastery of NutseU. In 718, we encounter
him at Rome, receiving from pope Gregory II. a formal
mission, and instructions for the conversion of the Germans.
He goes from Rome into Austrasia, corresponds with Charles
Martel, passes the Rhine, and pursues his enormous enterprise
with indefatigable perseverance among the Frisons, the Thu
ringians, the Bavarians, the Catti, and the Saxons. His
entire life was devoted to it, and it was always with Rome that
were connected his works. In 723, Gregory II. nominated
him bishop ; in 732, Gregory III. conferred upon him the titles
of archbishop and apostolic vicar; in 738, Winfried, who no
longer bore the name of Boniface, made a new journey to
Rome, in order to regulate definitively the relations of the
Christian church which he had just founded, with Christianity
in general; and for him Rome is the centre, the pope is the
chief of Christianity. It was to the profit of papacy that he
sent in all directions the missionaries placed under his orders,
erected bishoprics, conquered nations. Here is the oath
which he took when the pope nominated him archbishop of
Mayence, and metropolitan of the bishoprics which he should
found in Germany.
" I, Boniface, bishop by the grace of God, I promise to thee,
blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, and to thy vicar, the
holy Gregory, and to his successors, by the Father, the Son,
and the Holy Ghost, the holy and indivisible Trinity, and by

176 HISTORY OF
thy sacred body, here present, always to keep a perfect
fidelity to the holy catholic faith; to remain, with the aid of
God, in the unity of that faith, upon which, without doubt,
depends the whole salvation of Christians; not to lend myself,
upon the instigation of any one, to anything which can be
against the universal church, and to prove, in all things, my
fidelity, the pureness of my faith, and my entire devotion to
thee, to the interests of thy church, who hast received from
God the power to tie and to untie, to thy said vicar, and to
his successors: and if I learn that the bishops are against the
ancient rule of the holy fathers, I promise to have no alliance
nor communion with them, any more than to repress them if.
I am able; if not, I will at once inform my apostolic lord.
And if (which God forbid!) I ever, whether by wiU or occa
sion, do anything against these my promises, let me be found
guilty at the eternal judgment— let me incur the chastise
ment of Ananias and of Sapphira, who dared to lie unto
you, and despoil you of part of their property. I, Boniface,
a humble bishop, have with my own hand written this attesta
tion' of oath, and depositing it on the most sacred body of the
sacred Peter, I have, as it is prescribed, taking God to judge
and witness, made the oath, which I promise to keep."1
To this oath I add the statement which Boniface himself
has transmitted to us of the decrees of the first German
council held under his presidence in 742:
" In our synodal meeting, we have declared and decreed
that to the end of our life we desire to hold the catholic faith
and unity, and submission to the Roman church, Saint Peter,
and his vicar; that we will every year assemble the synod;
that the metropolitans shall dernand the pallium from the see
of Rome, and that we will canonically follow all the precepts
of Peter, to the end that we may be reckoned among the
number of his sheep, and we have consented and subscribed
to this profession. I have sent it to the body of Saint Peter,
prince of the apostles, and the clergy and the pontiff have
joyfully received it.
" If any bishop can correct or reform anything in his
diocese, let him propose the reformation in the synod before
the archbishops and all there present, even as we ourselves
1 8. Bunif, Epist., ep. 118; Bib. Pat., vol. xiii., p. 119; ed. of Lyons.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 177
have promised with oath to the Roman church. Should we
see the priests and people breaking the law of God, and we
are unable to correct them, we will faithfuUy inform the
apostolic see, and the vicar of Saint Peter, in order to
accomplish the said reform. It is thus, if I do not deceive
myself, that all bishops should render an account to the
metropolitan, and he to the pontiff of Rome, of that which
they do not succeed in reforming among the people, and thus
they wiU not have the blood of lost souls upon their heads."1
Of a surety, it is impossible more formally to submit
the new church, the new Christian nations to the papal
power. A scruple, which I must express, impedes my progress: I
fear that you are tempted to see more especially in this conduct
of Saint Boniface the influence of temporal motives, of
ambitious and interested combinations: it is a good deal the
disposition of our time; and we are even a little inclined to
boast of it, as a proof of our liberty of mind and our good
sense. Most certainly let us judge aU things in full liberty
of mind; let the severest good sense preside at our judg
ments; but let us feel that, wherever we meet with great
things and great men, there are other motives than ambitious
, combinations and personal interests. Let it be known that
the thought of man can be elevated, that its horizon can be
extended only when he becomes detached from the world
and from himself; and that, if egoism plays a great part
in history, that of disinterested and moral activity is, in the
eyes of the most rigorous critic, infinitely superior to it.
Boniface proves it, as well as others. All devoted as he
was to the court of Rome, h'e could, when need was, speak
truth to it, reproach it with its evil, and urge it to. take heed
to itself. He learned that it granted certain indulgences, that
it permitted certain licences which scandalised severe con
sciences. He wrote to the pope Zachary:
" These carnal men, these simple Germans, or Bavarians,
or Franks, if they see things done at Rome which we forbid,
suppose that it has been permitted and authorised by the
priests, and turn it against us in derision, and take advantage
of it for the scandal of their life. Thus, they say that every
1 Labbe, Counc, vol. xi., col. 1544 15,
VOL. II. N

173 HISTORY OF
year, in the calends of January, they have seen, at Rome,
both day and night, near the church, dancers overrunning the
public places, according to the custom of the pagans, and
raising clamours, after their fashion, and singing sacrilegious
songs; and this day, they say, and till night-time, the tables
are loaded with meats, and no one will lend to his neighbour
either fire or iron, or anything in his house. They say also,
that they have seen women carry phylacteries, and fillets
attached to their legs and arms, and offer aU sorts of things
for sale to the passers by; and all these things, seen by carnal
men, and those but little instructed, are subjects of derision,
and an obstacle to our preaching, and to the faith. ... If
your paternity interdict these pagan customs in Rome, it
will acquire a great reputation, and will assure us a great
progress in the doctrine of the church." '
I might cite many other letters, written with as much
freedom, and which prove the same sincerity. But a fact
speaks louder than all the letters in the world. After having
founded new bishoprics and many monasteries, at the highest
point of his success and glory, in 753, that is, at seventy- ,
three years of age, the Saxon missionary demanded and
obtained authority to quit his bishopric of Mayence, and to
place therein his favourite disciple Lullus, and to again
prosecute the works of his youth among the still pagan
Frisons. He in fact went amid woods, morasses, and bar
barians, and was massacred in 755, with many of his com
panions. At his death, the bringing over of Germany to Christianity
was accomplished, and accomplished to the profit of papacy.
B ut it was also to the profit of the Franks of Austrasia, to
the good of their safety and their power. It follows that it
was for them as much as for Rome, that Boniface had laboured;
it was upon the soil of Germany, in the enterprise of con
verting its tribes by Saxon missionaries, that the two new
powers, which were to prevail, the one in the civil society,
the other in the religious society, encountered each other, the
mayors of the palace of Austrasia, and the popes. In order
to consummate their alliance, and to make it bear aU its
1 8. Bonif. Ep. ad Zacharium, ep. 1 32 ; Bib. Pat., vol. xiii., p. 125, ed
of Lyons.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 179
fruits, an occasion was only wanting on either side; it was
not long in presenting itself.
I have aheady spoken of the situation of the bishop of
Rome with regard to the Lombards, and of their incessant
efforts to invade a territory which daily became more posi
tively his domain. Another real, although less pressing
danger, also approached him. As the Franks of Austrasia,
with the Pepins at their head, had on the north to combat
the Frisons and the Saxons, and on the south the Saracens,
so the popes were pressed by the Saracens and the Lombards.
Their situation was analogous; but the Franks achieved
victory under Charles Martel; the papacy, not in a condition
to defend herself, everywhere sought soldiers. She tried to
obtain them from the emperor of the east: he had none to
send her. In 739, Gregory ITL had recourse to Charles
Martel. Boniface took charge of the negotiation; it was
without result: Charles Martel had too much to do on his own
account; he cared not to involve himself in a new war; but
the idea was established at Rome that the Franks alone could
.defend the church against the Lombards, and that sooner or
later they would cross the Alps for her good.
Some years after, the chief of Austrasia, Pepin, son of
Charles Martel, in his turn, had need of the pope. He
wished to get himself declared king of the Franks, and, how
ever weU his power might be established, he wanted a
sanction to it. I have many times remarked, and am not tired
of repeating it, that power does not suffice to itself; it wants
something more than success, it wants to be converted into
right; it demands that characteristic, sometimes of the free
assent of men, sometimes of religious consecration. Pepin
invoked both. More than one ecclesiastic, perhaps Boniface,
suggested to him the idea of getting his new title of king of
the Franks sanctioned by the papacy. I shall not enter into
the detaUs of the negotiation undertaken upon this subject;
it offers some rather embarrassing questions and chronological
difficulties: it is not the less certain that it took place, and
that Boniface conducted it, as his letters to the pope often
show; we see him, among others, charge his disciple Lullus to
inform the pope of certain important affairs which he would
iather not commit to writing. Lastly, in 751,
"Burchard, bishop of Wurtzburg, and Fulrad, a chaplain
n2

180 HISTORY OF
priest, were sent to Rome to pope Zachary, in order to con
sult the pontiff touching the kings who were then in France,
and who had merely the name without any power. The pope
answered by a messenger, that he thought that he who
already possessed the power of the king, was the king; and
giving his full assent, he enjoined that Pepin should be made
king. . . Pepin was then proclaimed king of the Franks, and
anointed for this high dignity with the sacred unction by the
holy hand of Boniface, archbishop and martyr of happy
memory, and raised upon the throne, according to custom of
the Franks, in the town of Soissons. With regard to Chil-
deric, who invested himself with the false name of king,
Pepin had him shaved and put in a monastery."1
Such was the progressive march of the revolution; such
were the indirect and true causes of it. It has been represented
in later times2 (and I myself have contributed to propagate
this idea3) as a new German invasion, as a recent conquest of
Gaul by the Franks of Austrasia, more barbarians, more Ger
mans, than Franks of Neustria, who had gradually amal
gamated with the Romans. Such was in fact the result, and,
so to speak, the external character of the event; but its
character does not suffice to explain it; it had far more distant
and more profound causes than the continuation or renewal
of the great German invasion. I have just placed them before
you. The civil Gallo-Frankish society was in a complete
dissolution; no system, no power had come to establish itself
in it, and to found, it in ruling it. The religious society had
fallen almost into the same state. Two principles of regenera
tion were gradually developed; the mayor of the palace among
the Franks of Austrasia; and the papacy at Rome. These new
powers were naturally drawn together by the mediation of
the conversion of the German tribes, in which they had t
common interest. The missionaries, and especiaUy the Anglo
Saxon missionaries, were the agents of this junction.
Two particular circumstances, the perils in which the
Lombards involved the papacy, and the need which Pepiu
had of the pope in order to get his title of king sane-
1 Annales d'Eginhard, vol. iii., p. 4, in my Collection des Memoires rein-
tifs a I'Histoire d* France.
2 Histoire des Francois, by M. de Sismondi, vol. ii., p. 168 — 171 .
» See my Essais sur [Histoire de France, third Essai, p. 67—85.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 181
tioned, made it a close alliance. It raised up a new
race of sovereigns in Gaul, destroyed the kingdom of the
Lombards in Italy, and impeUed civil and religious Gallo-
Frankish society into a route which tended to make royalty
prevail in the civU order, and papacy in the religious order
Such wiU appear to you the character of the attempts at
civilization made in France by the Carlovingians, that is to
say, by Charlemagne, the true representative of that new
direction,- although it failed in its designs, and did nothing
but throw, as it were, a bridge between barbarism and feu
daUsm. This second epoch, the history of civUization in
France under the Carlovingians, in its various phases, wiU be
the subject of the following lectures.

.182 HISTORY OF

TWENTIETH LECTURE.

Eeign of Charlemagne — Greatness of his name — Is it true that he settled
nothing ? that all that he did has perished with him ? — Of the action of
great men — They play a double part — That which they do, in virtue of
the first, is durable ; that which they attempt, under the second, passes
away with them — Example of Napoleon — Necessity of being thoroughly
acquainted with the history of events under Charlemagne, in order to
understand that of civilization — How the events may be recapitulated in
tables— 1. Charlemagne as a warrior and conqueror: Table of his prin
cipal expeditions — Their meaning and results — 2. Charlemagne as an
administrator and legislator — Of the government of the provinces — Of
the central government — Table of national assemblies under his reign-
Table of his capitularies — Table of the acts and documents which remain
of this epoch — 3. Charlemagne as a protector of intellectual develop
ment: Table of the celebrated cotemporaneous men — Estimation of the
general results, and of the character of his reign.
We enter into a second great epoch of the history of
French civilization, and as we enter, at the first step, we
encounter a great man. Charlemagne was neither the first
of his race, nor the author of its elevation. He received an
already estabUshed power from his father Pepin. I have at
tempted to make you understand the causes of this revolution
and its true character. When Charlemagne became king of
the Franks, it was accomplished; he had no need even to de
fend it. He, however, has given his name to the second
dynasty; and the instant one speaks of it, the instant one
thinks of it, it is Charlemagne who presents himself before the
mind as its founder and chief. Glorious privilege of a great
man.' No one disputes that Charlemagne had a right to give
name w* his race and age. The homage paid to him is often
blind and undistinguishing; his genius and glory are extolled

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 183
without discrimination or measure; yet, at the same time,
persons repeat, one after another, that he founded nothing,
accomplished nothing; that his empire, his laws, all his works,
perished with him. And this historical common-place in
troduces a crowd of moral common-places on the ineffectual-
ness and uselessness of great men, the vanity of their projects,
the little trace which they leave in the world, after having
troubled it in aU directions.
Is this true? Is it the destiny of great men to be merely
a burden and a useless wonder to mankind? Their activity
so strong, so brilliant, can it have no lasting result? It
costs very dear to be present at the spectacle; the curtain
fallen, will nothing of it remain? Should we regard these
powerful and glorious chiefs of a century and a people, merely
as a sterile scourge, or at very best, as a burdensome luxury?
Charlemagne, in particular, should he be nothing more?
At the first glance, the common-place might be supposed
to be a truth. The victories, conquests, institutions, reforms,
projects, all the greatness and glory of Charlemagne, vanished
with him; he seemed a meteor suddenly emerging from the
darkness of barbarism, to be as suddenly lost and extinguished
in that of feudality. There are other such examples in
history. The world has more than once seen, we ourselves
have seen an empire like it, one which took pleasure in
being compared to that of Charlemagne, and had a right so
to be compared; we have likewise seen it fall away with a
man. But we must beware of trusting these appearances. To
understand the meaning of great events, and measure the
agency and influence of great men, we need to look far deeper
into the matter.
The activity of a great man is of two kinds; he performs
two parts; two epochs may generally be distinguished in his
career. First, he understands better than other people the
wants of his time; its real, present exigences; what, in the
age he lives in, society needs, to enable it to subsist and at
tain its natural development. He understands these want?.
better than any other person of his time, and knows better
than any other how to wield the powers of society, and direct
them skilfully towards the realization of this end. Hence
proceed his power and glory; it is in virtue of this, that as soon

184 HISTORY OF
as he appears; he is understood, accepted, followed; that all
give their willing aid to the work which he is performing for
the benefit of all.
But he does not stop here. When the real wants of his
time are in some degree satisfied, the ideas and the wiU of
the great man proceed further. He quits the region of pre
sent facts and exigencies; he gives himself up to views in
some measure personal to himself; he indulges in combina
tions more or less vast and specious, but which are not, Uke
his previous labours, founded on the actual state, the common
instincts, the determined wishes of society, but are remote
and arbitrary. He aspires to extend his activity and influence
indefinitely, and to possess the future as he has possessed the
present. Here egoism and illusion commence. For some
time, on the faith of what he has already done, the great man
is followed in his new career; he is believed in and obeyed;
men lend themselves to his fancies; his flatterers and his dupes
even admire and vaunt them as his sublimest conceptions.
The pubhc, however, in whom a mere delusion is never of
any long continuance, soon discovers that it is impelled in a
direction in which it has no desire to move. At first the
great man had enlisted his high intelligence and powerful will
in the service of the general feeling and wish; he now seeks
to employ the public force in the service of his individual
deas and desires; he is attempting things which he alone
wishes or understands. Hence disquietude first, and then
uneasiness; for a time he is still followed, but sluggishly and
reluctantly; next he is censured and complained of; finaUy,
he is abandoned and falls; and all which he alone had planned
and desired, all the merely personal and arbitrary part of his
work, perishes with him.
I shall avoid no opportunity of borrowing from our age
the torch which it offers, in this instance, in order to enUghten
a time so distant and obscure. The fate and name of Napo
leon at present belong to history. I shall not feel the least
embarrassed in speaking of it, and speaking of it freely.
Every one knows that at the time when he seized the
power in France, the dominant, imperious want of our
country was security — without, national independence ; in
wardly, civil Ufe. In the revolutionary troubles, the ex
ternal and internal destiny, the state and society, were equaUy
compromised. To replace the new France in the European

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 185
confederation, to make her avowed and accepted by the other
states, and to constitute her within in a peaceable and regular
manner, — to put her, in a word, into the possession of inde
pendence and order, the only pledges of a long future, this
was the desire, the general thought of the country. Napoleon
understood and accomplished it.
This finished, or nearly so, Napoleon proposed to himself a
thousand others: potent in combinations, and of an ardent
imagination, egoistical and thoughtful, machinator and poet,
he, as it were, poured out his activity in arbitrary and gigantic
projects, children of his own, — solitary, foreign to the real
wants of our time, and of our France. She followed him
for some time, and at great cost, in this path which she had
not selected; a day came when she would follow no further,
and the emperor found himself alone, and the empire
vanished, and aU things returned to their proper condition, to
their natural tendency.
It is an analogous fact which the reign of Charlemagne
offers us at the ninth century. Despite the immense differ
ence of time, situation, form, even groundwork, the general
phenomenon is simUar : these two parts of a great man, these
two epochs of hi3 career, are found in Charlemagne as in
Napoleon. Let us endeavour to state them.
Here I encounter a difficulty which has long pre-occupied
me, and which I do not hope to have completely surmounted.
At the commencement of the course, I engaged to read you a
general history of France. I have not recounted events to
you; I have sought only general results, the concatena
tion of causes and effects, the progress of civilization, con
cealed under the external scenes of history; as regards the
scenes themselves, I had taken it for granted that you know
them. Hitherto I have cared Uttle to know if you had taken
this precaution; under the Merovingian race, events, pro
perly so called, are of rare occurrence — so monotonous, that
it is less necessary to regard them nearly: general facts only
are important, and they may, up to a certain point, be brought
to light and understood without an exact knowledge of
the detaUs. Under the reign of Charlemagne, it is entirely
different: wars, political vicissitudes of aU kinds, are nume
rous and brilliant; they occupy an important place, and gene
ral facts are concealed far behind the special facts which
occupy the front of the scene. History, properly so caUed,

186

HISTORY OF

envelops and covers the history of civilization. The latter
will hot be clear to you unless the former is presented to you;
I cannot give you an account of events, and yet you require
to know them.
I have attempted to sum them up in tables, to present
under that form the special facts of this epoch; those, at least,
which approach nearly to general facts, and immediately con
cern the history of civiUzation. Statistical tables are looked
upon in the present day, and with good reason, as one of the
best means of studying the state of a society, under certain
relations; why should not the same method be applied to the
past? it does not produce them with vividness and anima*
tion, like recital; but it raises their frame-work, so to speak,
and prevents general ideas from floating in vagueness and at
chance. In proportion as we advance in the course of civili
zation, we shall often be obliged to employ it.
Three essential characteristics appear in Charlemagne: he
may be considered under three principal points of view:
1st, as a warrior and a conqueror; 2nd, as an administrator
and legislator; 3rd, as a protector of sciences, letters, arts,
of intellectual development in general. He exercised a great
power, outwardly by force, inwardly by government and laws;
he desired to act, and in fact did act, upon mankind itself, upon
the human mind as upon society. I shall endeavour to make
you understand him in these three respects, by presenting to
you, in tables, the facts which relate to him, and from which
the history of civilization may be deduced.
I commence with the wars of Charlemagne, of which the
following are the most essential facts:

Table of the principal Expeditions of Charlemagne,

1

Date.

Enemies.

Observations.

7H9

Against the Aquitani.

He goes to the Dordogne.

2

772

„ the Saxons.

He goes beyond the Weser.

3

77.3

„ the Lombards.

He goes to Pavia and Verona.

4

774

Idem,

He takes Pavia, and goes to
Eome.

5

774

„ the Saxons.

6

775

Idem.

7

770

„ the Lombards.

He goes to Treviso. !

8

776

„ the Saxons.

He goes to the sources of the 1
Lippe. 1

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

187

Date.

Enemies.

Observations.

9

778

Against the Arabs of Spain.

He goes to Saragossa.

10

778

„ the Saxons.

11

779

Idem.

He goes into the country of
Osnabruck.

12

780

Idem.

He goes to the Elbe.

13

782

Idem

He goes to the conflux of the
Weser and the Aller.

14

783

Idem.

He goes to the Elbe.

15

784

Idem.

He goes to the Sale and the
Elbe.

16

785

Idem.

He goes to the Elbe.

17

785

„ the Thuringians,

He does not go in person.

18

786

„ the Bretons.

Idem.

19

787

„ the Lombards of
Benevento.

He goes to Capua.

20

787

„ the Bavarians.

He goes to Augsburg.

21

788

„ the Huns, orAvares.

He goes to Eatisbon.

22

789

„ the Slavonian Wilt-

He goes between the Lower

zes.
Elbe and the Oder.
23
791
„ the Huns or
He goes to the conflux of the
Avares.
Danube and the Raab. ¦
24
794
-, the Saxons.
25
795
Idem.
26
79(1
Idem.
27
799
„ the Huns or Avares .
Under the orders of his son
Louis, king of Italy.
28
796
„ the Arabs.
Under the orders of his son
Pepin, king of Aquitaine.
29
797
„ the Saxons.
He goes to the Lower Weser
and the Lower Elbe.
30
797
„ the Arabs.
By his son Louis.
31
798
„ the Saxons.
He goes beyond the Elbe.
By his son Pepin to Chieti.
32
801
„ the Lombards of
Benevento.
33
801
„ the Arabs of Spain.
By his son Louis to Barcelona.
34
80S.
„ the Saxons.
By his sons beyond the Elbe.
35
im
Idem
He goes between the Elbe and
the Oder. He transplants
tribes of Saxons into Gaul
and Italy.
36
805
„ the Slavonians of
Bohemia.
By his eldest son, Charles.
37
806
Idem.
By his son Charles.
38
806
„ the Saracens of
Corsica.
By his son Pepin.
39
806
„ the Arabs of Spain.
By his son Louis.
40
807
„ the Saracens of
Corsica.
By Generals.
41
807
„ the Arabs of Spain.
Idem.
HISTORY OF

42

Date.

Enemies.

Observations.

808

Against the Danes and Nor-

mans.
43
809
,5
the Greeks.
In Dalmatia, by his son Pepin.
44
809
J,
the Arabs of Spain.
45
810
J)
the Greeks.
Idem.
46
810
V
the Saracens in
Corsica and Sar
dinia.
47
810
J}
the Danes.
He goes in person to the conflux
of the "Weser and the Aller.
48
811
Idem.
49
811
the Avares.
50
811
„
the Bretons.
51
812
»
the Slavonian Wilt-
zes.
He goes between the Elbe and
the Oder
52
812
"
the Saracens in
Corsica.
03
813
Idem.
That is, in all, fifty-three expeditions, namely:
1 against the Aquitani.
18 — Saxons.
5 — Lombards.
7 — Arabs of Spain.
1 — Thuringians.
4 — Avares.
2 — Bretons.
1 — Bavarians.
4 — Slavonians beyond the Elbe.
5 — Saracens in Italy.
3 — Danes.
2 — Greeks.
Without counting numerous other smaU expeditions, of which
no distinct and positive monuments are left.
From this table alone it is clearly seen that these wars did
not the least resemble those of the first race; they are not the
dissensions of tribe against tribe, of chief against chief; expe
ditions undertaken with a view of establishment or pillage; they
are systematic and poUtical wars, inspired by an intention of
government, commanded by a certain necessity.
What is this system ? What is the meaning of these
expeditions ?
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 189
Tou have seen various German nations — Goths, Burgun
dians. Franks, Lombards, &c. — estabUshed upon the Roman
territory. Of aU these tribes or confederations, the Franks
were the strongest, and occupied the central position in the
new estabUshment. They were not united among themselves
by any political tie; they incessantly make war. Still, in
some respects, and whether they knew it or not, their situation
was similar, and their interests common.
You have seen that, from the beginning of the eighth
century, these new masters of western Europe, the Roman-
Germans, were pressed on the north-east, along the Rhine
and the Danube, by new German, Slavonian, and other tribes
proceeding to the same territory; on the south by the Arabs
spread on aU the coasts of the Mediterranean ; and that
thus a two-fold movement of invasion menaced with an ap -
proaching faU the states but just rising out of the ruins of
the Roman empire.
Now let us see what was the work of Charlemagne in' this
situation: he rallied against this two-fold invasion, against the
new assailants who crowded upon the various frontiers of the
empire, all the recently-established inhabitants of his territory,
ancient or modern, Romans or Germans. FoUow the course
of his wars. He begins by definitively subduing, on one side,
the Roman population, who stiU attempted to free themselves
from the barbarian yoke, as the Aquitani in the south of Gaul;
on the other, the later-arrived German population, the esta
blishment of whom was not consummated, as the Lombards in
Italy, &c. He snatched them from the various impulsions which
animated them, united them aU under the domination of the
Franks, and turned them against the two-fold invasion, which,
on. the north-east and south, menaced all alike. Seek a domi
nant fact which shah be common to all the wars of Charle
magne; reduce them aU to their simple expression: you will
see that their true meaning is, that they are the struggle of
the inhabitants of the ancient empire, conquering or con
quered, Romans or Germans, against the new invaders.
They are therefore essentially defensive wars, brought about
by a triple interest of territory, race, and religion. It was
the interest of territory which especially broke out against
the nations of the right bank of the Rhine, for the Saxpns
and Danes were Germans, like the Franks and the Lombards:

190 HISTOBY OF
there were Frankish tribas among them, and some learned
men think that many pretended Saxons may have been only
Franks, established in Germany. There was, therefore, no
diversity of race; it was merely in defence of the territory
that war took place. The interest of territory and the
interest of race were united against the wandering nations
beyond the Elbe, or on the banks of the Danube, against the
Slavonians and the Avares. Against the Arabs who inun
dated the south of Gaul, there was interest of territory, of
race, and of religion, all together. Thus did the various
causes of war variously combine; but, whatever might be the
combinations, it was always the German Christians and Ro
mans, who defended their nationality, their territory, and their
religion against nations of another origin or creed, who sought
a soil to conquer. All their wars have this character — aU are
derived from this triple necessity.
Charlemagne had in no way reduced this necessity into a
general idea or theory; but he understood and faced it: great
men rarely do otherwise. He faced it by conquest; defensive
war took the offensive form; he carried the struggle into the
territory of nations who wished to invade his own; he laboured
to reduce the foreign races, to extirpate the hostile creeds.
Hence arose his mode of government, and the foundation of
his empire: offensive war and conquest required this vast and
formidable unity.-
At the death of Charlemagne, the conquests cease, the unity
disappears, the empire is dismembered and falls to pieces; but
is it true that nothing remained, that the warlike exploits of
Charlemagne were absolutely sterile, that he achieved nothing,
founded nothing? There is but one way to resolve this ques
tion; it is, to ask ourselves if, after Charlemagne, the countries
which he had governed found themselves in the same situation
as before; if the two-fold invasions which, on the north and
on the south, menaced their territory, their rehgion, and their
race, recommenced after being thus suspended; if the Saxons,
Slavonians, Avares, Arabs, stiU kept the possessors of the
Roman soil in perpetual disturbance and anxiety. Evi
dently it was not so; true, the empire of Charlemagne was
broken up, but into separate states, which arose as so many
barriers at all points where there was still danger. Up to the
time of Charlemagne, the frontiers of Germany, Spain, and

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 191
Italy were in continual fluctuation; no constituted public force
had attained a permanent shape; he was compelled to be con
stantly transporting himself from one end to the other of his
dominions, in order to oppose to the invaders the moveable
and temporary force of his armies. After him, the scene is
changed; real political barriers, states more or less organized,
but real and durable, arose; the kingdoms of Lorraine, of
Germany, Italy, the two Burgundies, Navarre, date from that
time; and in spite of the vicissitudes of their destiny, they
subsist, and suffice to oppose effectual resistance to the in
vading movement. Accordingly, that movement ceases, or
continues only in the form of maritime expeditions, most
desolating at the points which they reach, but which cannot
be made with great masses of men, nor produce great results.
. Although, therefore, the vast domination of Charlemagne
disappeared with him, it is not true that he founded nothing;
he founded aU the states which sprung from the dismember
ment of his empire. His conquests entered into new com
binations, but his wars attained their end: the foundation of
the work subsisted, although its form was changed. It is thus
that the action of great men is in general exercised. Charle
magne, as an administrator and legislator, appears to us umier
the same aspect.
His government is more difficult to sum up than his wars.
Much has been said of the order which he introduced into his
states, of the great system of administration which he attempted
to found. I indeed believe he attempted it, but he was very far
from succeeding in his attempt: despite the unity, despite the
activity of his thought and of his power, the disorder around
him was immense and invincible ; he repressed it for a
moment on one point, but the evil reigned wherever his
terrible wiU did not come ; and when it had passed, re
commenced the moment it was at a distance. We must not
aUow ourselves to be deceived by words. Open, in the
present day, the Almanac Royal; you may read the system
of the administration of France: all the powers, all the
functionaries, from the last step to the most elevated, are
there indicated and classed according to their relations. And
there is no Ulusion — the things pass, in fact, as they
are written; the book is a faithful image of the reality. It
would be easy to construct a similar administrative chart for

192 HISTORY OF
the empire of Charlemagne, to place in it dukes, counts,
vicars, centeniers, sheriffs (scabini), and to distribute them,
hierarchically organized, over the territory. But this would
only be a vast fiction: more frequently, in most places, these
magistrates were powerless, or themselves disorderly. The
effort of Charlemagne to institute them and to make them act
was continual, but as incessantly failed. Now that you are
warned, and on your guard against the systematic appearances
of this government, I may sketch the features — you will
not conclude too much from them.
The local government must be distinguished from the central
government. In the provinces, the power of the emperor was exercised
by two classes of agents — one local and permanent, the other
sent to a distance, and transitory.
In the first class were included — first, dukes, counts,
vicars of courts, centeniers, scabini, all resident magistrates
nominated by the emperor himself or by his delegates, and
charged in his name to raise forces, to render justice,
to maintain order, to receive tribute; second, benefici
aries, or vassals of the king, who held from him, some-.
times hereditarily, more frequently for life, stiU more fre
quently without any stipulation or rule, estates or domains,
throughout the extent of which they exercised, mostly in
their own name, partly in that of the emperor, a certain juris
diction, and almost all the rights of sovereignty. Nothing
was well determined or very clear with regard to the situa
tion of beneficiaries, and the nature of their power: they were
at once delegates and independent, proprietors and usu
fructuaries; and one or other of these characters prevailed
in them alternately. But however that may be, they were,
without doubt, in habitual relation with Charlemagne, who
made use of them everywhere in order to convey and exe
cute his will.
Above the local and resident agents, magistrates, or benefi
ciaries, were the missi dominici, temporary ambassadors,
charged, in the name of the emperor, to inspect the pro
vinces, authorized to penetrate into conceded domains, as
well as into free lands, invested with the right of reforming
certain abuses, and called upon to render an account of
everything to their master. The missi dominici were for

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

193

Charlemagne, at least in the provinces, the principal medium
of order and administration.
With regard to the central government, putting aside for a
moment the action of Charlemagne himself, and of his per
sonal counseUors, that is to say, with regard to the true govern
ment, the national assemblies, to judge from appearances, and
if we may believe almost aU modern historians, occupied an
important place. They were, indeed, frequent and active
under his reign. The following is a table of those which are
expressly mentioned by the chroniclers of the time:

1

Date.

Place.

770

Worms.

2

771

Valenciennes.

3

772

Worms.

4

773

Geneva.

5

775

Duren.

6

776

Worms.

7

777

Paderbom

8

779

Duren.

9

780

Ehresburg.

10

781

Worms.

11

782

At the source of the Lippe.

12

785

Paderborn.

13

786

Worms.

14

787

Ibid.

15

788

Ingelheim.

16

789

Aix-la-Chapelle.

17

790

Worms.

18

792

Eatisbon.

19

793

Ibid.

20

794

Frankfort.

21

795

Kuffenstein.

22

797

Aix-la-Chapelle.

23

799

Lippenheim.

24

800

Mayence.

25

803

Ibid.

26

804

At the source of the Lippe

27

805

Thionville.

28

806

Nimeguen.

29

807

Coblentz.

30

' 809

Aix-la-Chapelle.

31

810

Verden.

32

811

Ibid.

33

812

Boulogne.

34

812

Aix-la-Chapelle.

35

813

Ibid.'

VOL. II.

194 HISTORY OF
To know the number and periodical regularity of these great
meetings, doubtless, is something; but what passed within
their breast, and what was the character of their poUtical
intervention? this is an important point.
A very curious monument remains upon this subject; one
of the cotemporaries and counsellors of Charlemagne, his
cousin-german, Adalhard, abbot of Corbie, wrote a treatise
entitled De Ordine Palatii, destined to make known the
inxernal government of Charlemagne, and more especiaUy the
general assemblies. This treatise is lost; but, towards the
end of the ninth 1 century, Hincmar, archbishop of Reims, re
produced it almost complete in a letter of instruction written
at the request of some great men of the kingdom, who had had
recourse to his counsel for the government of Carloman, one
of the sons of Louis-le-Begue. Certainly, no document merits
more confidence. Here we read —
" It was the custom of the time to hold two councils every
year .... in both of them, and in order that they might not
appear convoked without motive,2 they submitted to the
examination and deliberation of the nobles .... and, in virtue
of the orders of the king, the articles of the law named capi-
tula, which the king himself had drawn up by the inspiration
of God, or the necessity of which had been made manifest to
him in the interval between the meetings."
The proposition of the capitularies, or, to speak in modern
phraseology, the initiative, therefore, emanated from the
emperor. It must have been so: the initiative is naturally
exercised by him who wishes to regulate, to reform, and 'it
was Charlemagne who had conceived this design. Still I
do not doubt any the more that the members of assembly
might have made any propositions which appeared desirable
to them; the constitutional mistrusts and artifices of our times
were, certainly, unknown to Charlemagne, too sure of his
power to fear the Uberty of deUberations, and who saw in
1 In 882.
2 Ne quasi sine causa convo'cari viderentur. This phrase indicates that
most of the members of those assemblies looked upon the obligation of re
pairing thither as a burden ; that they had but little desire to share in the
legislative power, and that Charlemagne wished to legitimate their convo
cation by giving them something to do, far rather than that he subjected
himself to the necessity of obtaining then- adhesi°a

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 195
these assemblies a means of government far more than a
barrier to his authority. I resume the text of Hincmar:
" After having received these communications, they deU-
berated upon them one, two, three, or even a greater number
of days, according to the importance of the matter. Messen
gers from the palace, going and coming, received their ques
tions and reported the answers; and no stranger approached
the place of their meeting, until the result of their delibera
tions had been put before the eyes of the great prince, who
then, with the wisdom which he received from God, adopted
a resolution to which all obeyed."
The definitive resolution always depended therefore on
Charlemagne alone; the assembly only gave him information
and counsel. Hincmar continues:
" The things, accordingly, went on thus for one, two, or
more capitularies, until, with the aid of God, aU the necessities
of the times were provided for.
" While his affairs were treated of in this manner out of the
presence of the king, the prince himself, amidst the multitude
which generally came to the general councils, was occupied
in receiving presents, saluting the most considerable men,
discoursing with those whom he rarely saw, testifying
an affectionate interest in the more aged, making merry
with the younger; and doing these and similar things aUke
for ecclesiastics as for seculars. StUl, if those who deliberated
upon matters submitted to their examination manifested a
desire therefor, the king repaired to them, remained with them
as long as they wished; and they reported to him with com
plete familiarity what they thought of everything, and what
were the friendly discussions which had been raised among
them. I must not forget to mention that, if the weather was
fine, aU this passed in the open air; if not, in distinct build
ings, where those who had to deUberate upon the propositions
of the king were separated from the multitude of persons
who came to the assembly, and then the less considerable
men could not enter. The places destined for the meeting of
the lords were divided into two parts, so that the bishops,
abbots, and priests, high in dignity, could be united without
any mixture of the laity. In the same way the counts and
other principal men of the state were separated, in the morn
ing, from the rest of the multitude, until, the king present or
o2

196 HISTORY OF
absent, they were all met together; and the abovementioned
lords, the priests on their side, and the laity on theirs,
repaired to the ball assigned to them, and where they
had honourably prepared their seats. When the lay and
ecclesiastical lords were thus separated from the multitude, it
remained in their option to sit together, or separately, ac
cording to the affairs of which they had to treat — ecclesias
tical, secular, or both. So if they wished any one to come,
whether to demand nourishment, or to ask a question, and
again to dismiss him, after having received what they wanted,
they could do so. Thus passed the examination of the affairs
which the king proposed to their deliberations.
" The second occupation of the king was to demand of every
one what he had to report to him, or to teach him concerning
the part of the kingdom whence he came. Not only was this
permitted to every one, but they were strictly recommended
to inquire, in the intervals of the assemblies, what passed
within or without the kingdom; and that they should seek to
know this from foreigners as well as countrymen, enemies as
well as friends, sometimes by employing envoys, and without
taking much care as to how the intelligence was acquired. The
king wished to know whether, in any part, any corner of the
kingdom, the people murmured and were agitated, and what
was the cause of its agitation, and whether it had come to a
disturbance upon which it was necessary that a general
council should be employed, and other similar details. He
also wished to know if any of the subdued nations thought of
revolting; if any of those who had revolted seemed disposed^
to submit; if those who were stiU independent menaced the
kingdom with any attack, &c. Upon all these matters, wher
ever a disturbance or a danger became manifest, he principally
asked what were its motives or occasion." 1
I shallliave no need of long reflections in order to make
you recognise the true character of these assemblies; it is
clearly shown in the picture which has been traced by
Hincmar. Charlemagne alone fiUs it; he is the centre and soul
of all things; it is he who says that the assemblies shall
meet, that they shall deliberate; it is he who occupies himself
about the state of the country, who proposes and sanctions
laws; in him reside the will and impulsion; it is from him
that aU emanated, in order to return to him. There was
1 Hincm. App. de Ordine Palatii, vol. ii. p. 201 — 215.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

197

there no great national liberty, no true public activity; but
there was a vast means of government.1
This means was by no means sterile. Independently of
the force which Charlemagne drew from it for current affairs,
you have seen that it was there that the capitularies were
generaUy drawn up and decreed. In our next lecture I shaU
occupy you more especiaUy with this celebrated legislation.
I desire at present merely to give you an idea of it.
While waiting for more detaUs, here is a table of the capitu
laries of Charlemagne, with their number, their extent, and
their object: Table of the Capitularies of Charlemagne.

ao
g §
Date.
Place.
into
S3 a
.6 «
.2 3
.§"3
.2
O'Sj
'o, 'So
1
¦a
rf
wi^l
769
18
1
17
2
779
23
15
8
3
788
8
7
1
4
789
Aix-la-Chapelle . .
80
19
61
5
Id.
16
...
16
6 7
Id.
23 34
14
20
9
14
Id.
8
793
17
15
2
9
794
Frankfort ....
54
18
36
10
797
Aix-la-Chapelle . .
11
11
11
799
Before
5
...
S
12
800
70
13
800
5
5
14
801
8
8
15
Id.
1
...
1
1617
22
41
27
22 14
802
18
Id.
23
18
5
19
803
Aix-la-Chapelle . .
7
...
7
20
Id.
I"
1
21
Id.
1
1
22
Id.
11
ii
2324
Id.
29 12
27 12
2
1 See my Essais sur V Histoire de France, p. 315 — 344.
'Domestic and Eural Legislation. This is the capitulary De Villis.
*3

ti

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Cl
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

199

Surely suchatable gives evidenceof greatlegislative activity;
and yet it says nothing of the revision which Charlemagne
caused to be made of the ancient barbarous laws, especially
the Salic and Lombard laws. In fact, activity, an universal,
indefatigable activity, the desire to think of everything, ot
introducing everywhere at once animation and rule, is the true,
the great characteristic of the government of Charlemagne —
the character which he himself, and he alone, impressed on his
times. I am about to place before you a new proof of this.
This was not a time (allow me the expression) for much
writing and scribbling; of a surety, the multitude of official
acts drawn up under a reign would not prove any great things
in favour of the genius of a monarch in the present day. It
was different with those of Charlemagne. There can be no
doubt but that the large number of public acts of aU kinds which
have come down to us from it, is an incontestable testimony of
the immense and contagious activity, which was, perhaps, his
greatest superiority and his surest power. The following is
a table and classification of those acts — of those, at least, which
have been printed in learned collections. Many others are
doubtless lost; others, perhaps, remain in manuscript, and
unknown.

Table of the Principal Diplomas, Documents, Letters, and various Acts
emanated from Charlemagne or other great men, Lay or Ecclesiastical,
under his Beign.

03
TT4 O
T* C
03
ia03cd
0303
°s> a
"S 12
•5.1
M g
<ti CO
ationsan sessions
t rches.
ationsan sessions
t asteries.
03J-
< O
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"el
a
S a
.a oO
oo
3 °
o >
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so
<
Don Com Chui
gas
h-1
1
769
23
6
17
3
4
14
2
770
16
3
13
. •••
5
8
3
771
9
1
8
2
7
772
33
1
26
"i
2
12
16
1
1
773
18
2
16
2
9
6
1
-774
21
1
14
"i
1
3
7
6
2
775
19
8
11
2
6
7
4
776
20
4
16
1
3
10
4
2
777
18
4
.14
"i
5
11
1
778
16
5
11
...
...
6
8
2
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Of Charlemagne.

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Of others.

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Acts of Civil
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Acts of Keligious
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Donations and
Concessions to
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Donations and
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Various Acts.

^

CIVILIZATION IN FKANCE. 201
Such are the facts — at least, such are the frames in which
they are placed. Now, I here reproduce the question which I
raised just now concerning the wars of Charlemagne. Is it
true, is it possible, that of this government, so active and
vigorous, nothing remained — that aU disappeared with Charle
magne — that he founded nothing for the internal consolidation
of society?
What fell with Charlemagne, what rested upon him alone,
and could not survive him, was the central government.
After continuing some time under Louis le Debonnaire and
Charles le Chauve, but with less and less energy and in
fluence, the general assemblies, the missi dominici, the whole
machinery of the central and sovereign administration, dis
appeared. Not so the local government, the dukes, counts,
vicaires, centeniers, beneficiaries, vassals, who held authority
in their several neighbourhoods under the rule of Charle
magne. Before his time, the disorder had been as great in
each locality as in the commonwealth generally; landed pro
perties, magistracies were incessantly changing hands; no
local positions or influences possessed any steadiness or per
manence. During the forty-six years of his government,
these influences had time to become rooted in the same soil,
in the same families; they had acquired stability, the first
condition of the progress which was destined to render them
independent and hereditary, and make them the elements of
the feudal regime. Nothing, certainly, less resembles feu
dalism than the sovereign unity which Charlemagne aspired
to establish; yet he is the true founder of feudal society! it
was he who, by arresting the external invasions, and repress
ing, to a certain extent, the intestine disorders, gave to
local situations, fortunes, influences, sufficient time to take
real possession of the country. After him, his general govern
ment perished Uke his conquests; his unity of authority like
his extended empire; but as the empire was broken into
separate states, which acquired a vigorous and durable life,
so the central sovereignty of Charlemagne resolved itself
into a multitude of local sovereignties, to which a portion of
the strength of his government had been imparted, and which
had acquired under its shelter the conditions requisite for
reaUty and durabUity; so that in this second point of view,

202 HISTORY OP
in his civil as well as military capacity, if we look beyond
first appearances, he accomplished and founded much.
I might show him to you accomplishing and leaving analo
gous results in the church; there also he arrested dissolution,
until his time always increasing: there also he gave society
time to rest, to acquire some consistency and to enter upon
new paths. But time presses: I have yet at present to speak of
the influence of Charlemagne in the intellectual order, and
of the place occupied by his reign in the history of the human
mind; scarcely shall I be able to point out the principal
features. It is more difficult here than anywhere else to sum up
facts and present them in a table. The acts of Charlemagne
in favour of moral civilization form no entirety, manifest no
systematic form; they are isolated, scattered acts; at times
the foundation of certain schools, at times measures taken for
the improvement of ecclesiastical offices, and the progress
of the knowledge which depends on them; also general
recommendations for the instruction of priests and laymen;
but most frequently an eager protection of distinguished men,
and a particular care to surround himself with them. There
is nothing systematic, nothing that can be estimated by the
mere juxtaposition of figures and words. I wish, however, with
a touch, and without entering into details, to place before you
some facts which may give you an idea of that kind of action
of Charlemagne, of which more is said than is known. It
appears to me that a table of the celebrated men who were
born and died under his reign — that is, of the celebrated men
whom he employed, and those whom he made — would tend
efficiently towards this end; this body of names and of works
may be taken as a decided proof, and even as a correct estimate
of the influence of Charlemagne over minds

Table of the celebrated men born or who died under the reign of Charlemagne.

Names.

Country.

Birth.

Death.

Condition.

Works.

1. Alcuin (he
tookthename
of Albinus,
and the sur
name of Flao-
cus.)
2, Angilhert,
(surnamed
Homer.)
3. Leidrade.
4. Smaragde.
5. Saint Bene
dict d' Aniane.
6. Theodulph.

England (co.
York.) Neustria. Norica.
Septimanie.
Italy (Goth.)

About 738
751

804 814
About 816
About 820
821821

Chief of the school of the
palace of Charlemagne, ab
bot of Saint Martin of
Tours.
Prime minister of Pepin,
king of Italy, dulce of ma
ritime France, from the
Scheldt, to the Seine, se
cretary of Charlemagne,
abbot of Saint Biouieri.
Archbishop of Lyons, one
of the principal missi do
minici of Charlemagne.
Abbot of Saint Mihiel, em
ployed by Charlemagne in
many negotiations.
Abhot of Aniane and of
Inde; reformer of monas
teries.
Bishop of Orleans ; missus
of Charlemagne.

More than 30 works — viz.,
1. Commentaries on the
Scriptures; 2. Polemical,
moral, and literary writ
ings; 3. Historical writ
ings, letters, and poetry.
1. Poems; 2. An account
of what he had done for
his monastery while abbot.
1. Letters 2. Theological
writings.
]. Treatises of morality;
2. Commentaries on the
New Testament; 3. A
large grammar
1. Code of monastic rules;
2. Concord of rules ;
3. Theological writings
1. Instructions concerning
schools; 2. Theological
writings; 3. Poems.

tooOi

Table of the celebrated men born, or who died under the reign of Charlemagne  continued. M

Names.

7. Adalhard.

8, Ansegise. Burgundv,

Country.

9. Wala (sur
named Ar-
sene and Je
remiah. )
10. Amalaire,
surnamedSymphosius.
11. Eginhard.

13. Agohard.

Austrasia.

Austrasia.

Austrasia.

Austrasia.

Spain.

Birth.

753

779

Death.

820

803

830

837

83D

84C

Condition.

Counsellor of Pepin, king
of Italy, and of Charle
magne; abbot of Corbie.

Overseer of the buildings of
Charlemagne, employed in
various missions ; abbot
of Fontenelle.
Counsellor of Louis le De-
honnaire, and abhot of
Corbie.
Chief of the school of the
palace, and priest at Metz.

Secretary of Charlemagne,
and abbot of Seliegenstadt.
Archbishop of Lyons.

Works.

1. Statutes for the Abbey
of Corbie : 2. Letters ; 3.
A treatise De Ordine Pa-
lalii, reproduced by Hinc
mar.
The first collection of the
capitularies of Charle
magne, and of Louis le
Debonnaire, in four books.
He took a great part in the
revolutions of the reign of
Louis le Debonnaire.
1. The rule of the canons;
2. A large treatise of ec
clesiastical offices; 3.
Letters.
L The Life of Charle
magne; 2. Annals; 3.
Letters.
1. Theological writings,
stamped with a reforming
spirit; 2. Letters; 3.
Some Poems

13 Thegan.
14. RabanMaur

15. Walfrid
(Strabo.)

16. Nithard.

! 17. Floras.

I

18. Saint Pru-
dentius, (fa
mily name,
Galindo.)

Austrasia.Austrasia.
Germany. Austrasia.
Burgundy.

Spain.

770

807

Before 790

About 810
800819

About 859

About 860

801

Chorepiscopus of Treves.
Abbot of Fulda, ai'ohbishop
of Mayence.

Abhot of Eeichenau, near
Constance.

Duke of Maritime France,
monk at Saint Riquieri.
Deacon and priest at Lyons.

Bishop of Troyes.

The Life of Louis le De
bonnaire.
Fifty-one theological, moral,
philosophical, philological,
chronological works, let
ters, &c.
1. A Commentary on the
whole Bible; 2. A Life of
Saint Gall; 3. Many other
theological works ; 4.
Poems ; among others a
descriptive poem, Hortulus
History of the dissensions
of the sons of Louis le
Debonnaire.
Many theological writings,
having for the most part
a polemical character.
The principal is a refuta
tion of John Erigena.
Poems; among others a
Lament on the dismem
berment of the empire,
after Louis le Debon
naire.
Theological writings; among
others, upon predestina
tion, and against John
Erigena,

I

Table of the celebrated men born, or who died under the reign of Charlemagne — continued.

to O

Names.

19.Servat-Loup

20. Badbirt
(Paschase.)

21. Batramne.

22. Gottschalk.
23. John, called
Scot, or Eri
gena.

Countiy.

Diocese of
Sens.

Diocese of
Soissons.

Saxony. Ireland.

Birth.

Death.

805

Condition.

Abbot of Ferrieres, in Ga-
tinois.

Abbot of Corbie.

Monk at Corbie.

869 Monk at Obais.

I

Between
872 and 879 I

;

Works.

1. Theological writings ;
among others, upon pre
destination : 2. Letters ;
3. A history of the em
perors, (lost.)
Theological writings; among
others, his work on the
sacrament of the altar, or
the body and blood of
Jesus Christ.
Theological writings; among
others on transubstantia
tion and predestination
His writings in support of
predestination
Many philosophical works ;
amoug others, 1. Of Divine
Predestination; 2. Of the
division of nature.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 207
Surely such a table is sufficient to prove that at this epoch,
and under the star of Charlemagne, intellectual activity was
great. Eecal to your minds the times from whence we set'
out ; call to mind that from the sixth to the eighth century,
we had great difficulty in finding any names, any works; that
sermons and legends were almost the only monuments which
we encountered. Here, on the contrary, you see reappear,
and that almost at once, philosophical, historical, philological,
and critical writings; you find yourself in the presence of
study and science — that is to say, of pure and disinterested
intellectual activity, of the real movement of mind. I shall
soon discuss with you, in a more detailed manner, the men
and the works I have just named, and you will see that they
truly commence a new epoch, and merit the most serious
attention. Now, I ask, have we a right to say that Charlemagne has
founded nothing, that nothing remains of his works? I have
merely given you a ghmpse, as in a transient panorama, of
their principal results ; and yet their permanence is thus
shown therein as clearly as their grandeur. It is evident
that, by his wars, by his government, and by his action upon
minds, Charlemagne has left the most profound traces; that
if many of the things he did perished with him, many others
have survived him; that western Europe, in a word, left his
hands entirely different from what it was when he received it.
What is the general, dominant character of this change, of
the crisis over which Charlemagne presided ?
Take in at one view, that history of the civilization in
France under the Merovingian kings which we have just stu
died; it is the history of a constant, universal decline. In
individual man as in society, in the religious society as in civil
society, everywhere we have seen anarchy and weakness ex
tending itself more and more ; we have seen everything
become enervated and dissolved, both institutions and ideas,
what remained of the Eoman world and what the Germans
had introduced. Up to the eighth century, nothing of what
had formerly been could continue to exist ; nothing which
seemed to dawn could succeed in fixing itself.
Dating from Charlemagne, the face of things changes; de
cay is arrested, progress recommences. Yet for a long period
the disorder wiU be enormous, the progress partial, but little

203 HISTORY OP
visible, or often suspended. This matters not: we shall' no
more encounter those long ages of disorganization, of always
increasing intellectual sterility : through a thousand suffer
ings, a thousand interruptions, we shaU see power and life
revive in man and in society. Charlemagne marks the limit
at which the dissolution of the ancient Eoman and barbarian
world is consummated, and where really begins the formation
of modern Europe, of the new world. It was under his reign,
and as it were under his hand, that the shock took place by
which European society, turning right round, left the paths
of destruction to enter those of creation.
If you would know truly what perished with him, and what,
independently of the changes of form and appearance, is the
portion of his works which did not survive him, if I mistake
not, it is this:
In opening this course, the first fact which presented itself
to your eyes, the first spectacle at which we were present, was
that of the old Roman empire struggling with the barbarians.
The latter triumphed ; they destroyed the Empire. In com
bating it, they respected it; no sooner had they destroyed it,
than they aspired to reproduce it. All the great barbaric
chiefs, Ataulphe, Theodoric, Euric, Clovis, showed them
selves full of the desire of succeeding to the Eoman em
perors, of adapting their tribes to the frame of that society
which they had conquered. None of them succeeded there
in ; none of them contrived to resuscitate the name and
forms of the empire, even for a moment; they were overcome
by that torrent of invasion, by that general course of dis
solution which carried all things before it ; barbarism,
incessantly extended and renewed itself, but the Eoman em
pire was still present to all imaginations ; it was between bar
barism and Eoman civilization that, in aU minds of any com
pass at all, the question lay.
It was still in this position when Charlemagne appeared; he
also, he especially nursed the hope of resolving it, as all the
great barbarians who went before him had wished to resolve it,
— that is to say, by reconstituting the empire. "What Dio
cletian, Constantine, Julian, had attempted to maintain with
the old wrecks of the Eoman legions, that is, the struggle
against the invasion, Charlemagne undertook to do with
Franks, Goths, and Lombards: he occupied the same territory;

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 209
he proposed to himself the same design. Without, and almost
always on the same frontiers, he maintained the same struggle;
within, he restored its name to the empire, he attempted to
bring back the unity of its administration; he placed the
imperial crown upon his head. Strange contrast! He dwelt
in Germany; in war, in national assembUes, in the interior
of his family, he acted as a German; his personal nature,
lus language, his manners, his external form, his way of
Uving, were German; and not only were they German,
but he did not desire to change them. " He always wore,"
says Eginhard, "the habit of his fathers, the habit of the
Franks. . . . Foreign costumes, however rich, he scorned,
and suffered no one to be clothed with them. Twice only
during the stay which he made at Eome, first at the request
of pope Adrian, and then at the solicitation of Leo, the
successor of that pontiff, he consented to wear the long tunic,
the chlamys, and the Eoman sandal." He was, in fact,
completely German, with the exception of the ambition of
his thought; it was towards the Eoman empire, towards
Eoman civilization that it tended; that was what he desired
to establish, with barbarians as his instruments.
This was, in him, the portion of egoism and iUusion; and
in this it was that he faUed. The Eoman empire, and its
unity, were invincibly repugnant to the new distribution of
the population, the new relations, the new moral condition of
mankind; Eoman civilization could only enter as a transformed
element into the new world which was preparing. This idea,
this aspiration of Charlemagne, was not a pubhc idea, nor a
pubUc want; aU that he did for its accomplishment perished
with him. Yet even of this vain endeavour something
remained. The name of the western empire, revived by him,
and the rights which were thought to be attached to the title of
emperor, resumed their place among the elements of history,
and were for several centuries longer an object of ambition,
an influencing principle of events. Even, therefore, in the
purely egoistical and ephemeral portion of his operations, it
cannot be said that the ideas of Charlemagne w«-e absolutely
sterile, hor totally devoid of duration.
Here we must stop; the way is long, and I have proceeded
so quickly that I have hardly had time to describe the princi
pal events of the journey. It is difficult, it is fatiguing to
VOL. II. P

210 HISTORY OF
have to compress within a few pages what filled the Ufe of a
great man. I have as yet only been able to give you a
general idea of the reign of Charlemagne, and of his place
in the history of our civilization. I shall probably employ
many of the foUowing lectures in making you acquainted
with him under certain special relations; though I shall he
very far from doing justice to the subject.

CIVILIZATION IN 1'BANCE 211

TWENTY-FIRST LECTUEE.

Object of the lecture — Of capitularies in general — Review of the capitularies
of the Carlovingion Frank kings — Of the two forms under which the
capitularies have descended to us — Scattered capitularies — Collection of
Angesise and of the deacon Benedict— Of the edition of the capitularies
by Baluze — Erroneous idea generally entertained as to capitularies —
They are not invariably laws— Great variety in these acts — Attempt at
classification — Table of contents of the capitularies of Charlemagne :
1. Moral legislation — 2. Political legislation — 3. Penal legislation— 4.
Civil legislation — 5. Religious legislation — 6. Canonical legislation —
7. Domestic legislation — 8. Incidental legislation — True character of the
capitularies.
I announced to you my intention of laying before you a
summary of the reign of Charlemagne, and its results,
reviewing his government and his influence upon intellectual
development. In the first of these respects, the picture I
have placed before you appears to me sufficiently complete;
it presents, I think, a clear and precise idea of the part filled
by the wars of Charlemagne in the history of civilization in
the west; and, moreover, I could not enter more fully into
the subject, without going through an absolute and continuous
narration of events. As to the government of Charlemagne
and its action upon mind, what I have said in the last lecture
is altogether incomplete, and I may, without losing myself in
details, enter more closely into this part of the subject. I
wiU proceed to do so. The legislation of Charlemagne will
now occupy our attention: that which he did in protecting
inteUectual development, with an account of the distinguished
men who Uved and laboured under his influence, wiU be the
Subject of the foUowing lectures.
p2

212 HISTORY OP
It is commonly supposed that the term capitularies applies
only to the laws of Charlemagne; this is a mistake. The
word capitula, " Uttle chapters," equally applies to all the
laws of the Frank kings. I have no remark to make at
present respecting the capitularies, in themselves of very slight
importance,1 of the first race; of those of the second race,
there have come down to us 152 — namely,
5 capitularies of Pepin le Bref, commencing with the year
752, the period of his elevation to the title of king of the
Franks. 65 of Charlemagne.
20 of Louis le Debonnaire,
52 of Charles le Chauve,
3 of Louis le Begue.
3 of Carloman.
1 of Eudes.
3 of Charles le Simple.
I reckon here only the acts of such Carlovingians as
reigned in France; several descendants of Charlemagne,
established hi Germany and Italy, also left capitularies, but
with these we have nothing to do.
The capitularies enumerated have come down to us in two
different forms. We have them, first, in the shape of as
many separate acts, scattered through various manuscripts,
sometimes with, sometimes without date; and there exists,
secondly, a collection of them made in the course of the ninth
century, and divided into seven books. The four first of these
were compiled by Angesise, abbot of FonteneUe, one of the
councillors of Charlemagne, who died in 833. He coUected
and classified the capitula of that prince, and a portion of
those of Louis' le Debonnaire. The first book contains 162
capitula of Charlemagne, relative to ecclesiastical affairs.
The second, forty-eight capitula of Louis le Debonnaire,
in the same class of subjects.
The third, ninety-one capitula of Charlemagne on temporal
affairs. The fourth, seventy-seven capitula of Louis le Debonnaire
on temporal affairs.
1 The table in the twentieth lecture mentions only sixty ; but there were
besides five private acts, which, upon reflection, 1 think ought to be inserted
among the capitularies.

CIVILIZATION IN PRANCE. 213
To these four books, which, immediately upon their publi
cation, acquired such credit that Charles le Chauve, in his
own capitularies, cites them as an official code, a deacon of
Mayence, named Benedict, at the request of his archbishop,
Otger, added, about the year 842, three new books, consti
tuting the fifth, sixth, and seventh books of the collection, and
which contain:
The fifth, 405 capitula; the sixth, 436 capitula; the seventh,
478 capitula. In all, 1697.
But, besides the capitularies which Angesise had omitted,
and those which had been declared since the compUation of
his collection, the three books of the deacon Benedict contain a
number of acts with which the Carlovingian kings had nothing
to do; for instance, fragments of the Eoman law, extracted
from the Theodosian code, from Breviarium of the Visigoths,
from Justinian, Julian, &c. We even find there considerable
fragments of the famous coUection known by the name of The
false Decretals, pretended canons, and other acts of the first
popes — a collection at this time scarcely known, and which
Benedict himself was one of the first to bring into vogue; so
that many learned persons have assigned their fabrication to
him. Four supplements, added by anonymous compilers at later
periods to the seven books already mentioned, extend the
number of articles in this coUection to 2100.
The capitularies have been published several times under
both these forms. The best edition is unquestionably that of
Baluze, in two vols, folio, Paris, 1677. It is not only the
best as a matter of comparison, but it is excellent in itself.
" Of all the sources of the law of the middle ages," says
Savigny,1 "I have found none more fully presented to us than
the capitularies in Baluze's excellent edition." And, in fact,
it is far more complete, and better edited, than those of
Lindenbrog, Pithou, Herold, Du TiUet, &c. Baluze had
collected a great number of manuscripts, and he published
fragments and whole capitularies previously in edited. His
work may fairly be described as a vast and good coUection ot
texts; but there, in truth, its merit ends. The texts them
selves have been subjected to no examination, to no critical
» ii. 91.

214 HISTORY OP
revision. Baluze has given them to us exactly as he found them,
without troubUng himself to inquire whether or no the copyists
had confused them, or filled them with blunders. It would
doubtless have been an entire misconception to have sought
to introduce into the capitularies an order foreign to the ideas
of the primitive legislator, to have classified them systemati
cally, to have curtailed repetitions emanating from the legislator
himself, and which are characteristic of his work. But there
are, in the various manuscripts, a confusion and a want of
accuracy which are manifestly attributable to the copyists
alone; a multitude of words are changed, a multitude of
articles wrongly placed; various readings of the same manu
script are set down as different capitula. I do not by any
means propose to go through a list of the blunders of this
description, or to discuss the question of their rectification.
AU I desire to point out to you is the general fact that they
exist in abundance, and that Baluze's work, consequently,
valuable in many respects, is still only to be regarded as the
materials for a really correct and satisfactory edition of the
capitularies — an edition, however, which it would require
long and arduous and scientific labour to produce.
Let us first consider the capitularies themselves.
At the first glance, it is impossible not to be struck with
the confusion "which pervades this word: it is indiscrimi
nately applied to all the acts inserted in Baluze's collection;
and yet, in point of fact, the greater portion of those acts
differ essentially from capitularies, properly so called. What
would be the effect, if, some centuries hence, a compiler were
to take all the acts of a government of our times, of the
French administration for instance, in the last reign, and,
throwing them promiscuously together in one heap, under one
undistinguishing title, were to give the collection forth as
the legislation, the code of the period? The result would
manifestly be an utterly absurd and fallacious chaos; laws,
ordinances, decrees, briefs of the crown, personal judgments,
departmental circulars, would be mixed up together, hap
hazard, in utter confusion. This has been exactly the case
with the capitularies. I will proceed to analyse the collection.
of Baluze, classifying according to their nature and objects
the acts of all kinds which we meet with there. You will at
once see how great is their diversity.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 215
We find there under the general title of capitularies:
1. Ancient national laws revised ; the SaUc law, for ex
ample.1 2. Extracts from the ancient laws, Salic, Lombard, Ba
varian, &c: ; extracts evidently made for a particular purpose,
a particular place, a particular moment of time, for a special
necessity, the nature of which there is no longer anything to
indicate to us.2
3. Additions to the ancient laws, to the Salic law, for
instance,3 to the law of the Lombards,4 to that of the Bava
rians,5 &c. These additions seem to have been made in a.
pecuUar form, and with peculiar solemnities; that to the
Salic law is preceded, hi an ancient manuscript, by these
words: " These are articles which the lord Charles the Great,
emperor, caused to be written in his councils, and ordered to
be inserted among the other laws."
The legislature, indeed, appears to have required the
adhesion of the people to these additions more expressly than
to the other parts of the law; thus, in 803, the year in which
the additions to the Salic law were made, we find Charle
magne issuing the foUowing direction to his missi:
" Let the people be interrogated touching the articles which
have recently been added to the law; and after they have all
consented to them, let them affix to the said articles their sig
nature in confirmation."6
4. Extracts from the acts of the councils, and from the
entire body of canonical legislation; the great capitulary
enacted at Aix-la-ChapeUe, in 789,7 and a host of articles
in the other capitularies are nothing more than such ex
tracts. 5. New laws, of which some were passed by the general
assembUes of the people, with the concurrence of the great
laymen and great ecclesiastics together, or of the eccle
siastics alone, or of the laymen alone; while the rest appear to
1 See Baluze, i. col. 281, sub anno 798.
2 Extract from the law of the Lombards, cap. a. 801 ; Baluze, i col.
349 ; from the law of the Ripuarians, cap. a. 803 : id. col. 395.
3 Cap. a. 803. id. i. 387. * Cap. a. 801 ; id. i. 8-f-i.
5 Cap.]. 788; id., i. 207.
6 Cap. a. 803, § 19. i. 394. ' Id. i. 209

216 HISTORY OP
have been the work of the emperor himself, to have been what
we now caU ordinances. The distinctions between these two
classes of laws are not, on a close examination, very precisely
marked, but they are perceptible.
6. Instructions given by Charlemagne to his missi, on
their departure for the provinces, and designed sometimes
to regulate the personal conduct of the missi, sometimes to
guide them in their inquiries, very often as simple communi
cations to the people in particular districts, which the missi
were to convey. Acts of this description, very foreign, in
part, at all events, to our notions of legislation, are of fre
quent occurrence in the capitularies;1 articles of a totally dif
ferent nature are sometimes mixed up with them.
7. Answers given by Charlemagne to questions addressed
to him by the counts or bishops, or missi dominici, on the
occasion of difficulties occurring to them in the course of their
administration,2 and wherein he solves these difficulties,
which have reference sometimes to matters which we should
call legislative, sometimes to points in executive administra
tion, sometimes to private interests.
8. Questions which Charlemagne proposed to put to the
bishops or counts at the next general assembly, and which
he had noted down on paper that they might not, meantime/
pass out of his recoUection. These questions, which are among
the most curious documents in the whole collection, bear in
general a character of censure and reprimand of those to
whom they are to be addressed. I will read a few of them
to give you a practical idea of the liberality and good sense
which characterized the mind of Charlemagne. My trans
lation is literal:
" How does it happen that, both on the frontiers and with
the army, wherever there is any great measure to be taken
for the defence of the country, one man will not give aid to
another?"3 " What is the meaning of these continual suits by which
every one appears seeking to wrest from his neighbour that
which he possesses?"4
' Cap. a. 789; Baluze, i. 243; a. 802, i. 351; a. 802, i. 375; ». 803,
i. 391 ; a. 806, i. 449.
¦ 6° Cap. a. 803 : id. i. 401.
i 1 Cap. a. 811, § 1. Baluze, i. 477. « lb. § 2.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 217
" To ascertain on what occasions and in what places the
ecclesiastics and the laity seek, in the manner stated, to
impede each other in the exercise of their respective func
tions. To inquire and discuss up to what point a bishop or
an abbot is justified in interfering in secular affairs, and a
count or other layman with ecclesiastical affairs. To inter
rogate them closely on the meaning of those words of the
Apostle : ' No man that warreth for the law, entangleth
himself with the affairs of this Ufe.' Inquire to whom these
words apply." •
" Desire the bishops and abbots to teU us truly what is the
meaning of the phrase always in their mouths: 'Eenounce
the world;' and by what signs we may distinguish those who
have renounced the world, from those who stiU adhere to the
world: is it merely that the former do not bear arms, or
marry publicly? 2
" To ask them further, whether he is to be considered as
having renounced the world, whom we see labouring, day by
day, by all 6orts of means, to augment his possessions; now
making use, for this purpose, of menaces of eternal flames, now
of promises of eternal beatitude; in the name of God or of some
saint despoiling simple-minded men of their property, to the
infinite prejudice of the lawful heirs, who are, in very many
cases, from the misery in which they are thus involved,
driven by their necessities to robbing and to ail sorts of
disorders and crimes?" 3
Clearly such questions as these do not at aU resemble
articles of law.
9. Some of the capitula are not even questions, but mere
notes, memoranda of particular things which Charlemagne
from time to time conceived the idea of doing, and which he
had put down on paper, lest be should forget them. We
read, for instance, at the end of the capitula, or instructions
to the missi dominici, in 803, these two articles:
"RecoUect to order that they who send us horses as
presents, inscribe their names on each horse. And so with
dresses that may be sent us from abbeys.
" Eecollect to order that whenever vicarious persons are
found doing evil, or suffering it to be done, they be expelled
1 Cap. II. a. 811, § 4. ' lb. 3 Jb. % 5.

21 & HISTORY OF
from their post, and replaced by others of a better cha
racter." '
I could cite many capitula of this description.
10. Other articles contain judgments and briefs of the
crown and the courts, collected evidently for the purpose of
jurisprudence ; thus we read in a capitulary of the year
, 803 : •
" A man had suborned a slave, induced him to kill his two
young masters, the one aged nine, the other eleven; and then
killed the slave himself, and threw him into a ditch. Adjudged,
that the said man pay a wehrgeld for the boy of nine years
old, a double toehrgeld for the boy of eleven, and a treble
wehrgeld for the slave; and undergo, moreover, our ban."2
This is obviously a judicial decree in a particular case, in
serted among the capitularies as a precedent in future cases of
a similar description.
1 1 . We meet in like manner with acts of pure domestic finan
cial administration, relative to the management of Charle
magne's own domains, and which enter into the most minute
details on this subject. The famous capitulary De Villis is
an example of this, and there are several other articles of the
same character scattered through the coUection.3
1 2. Besides the so various acts I have enumerated, the
capitularies contain purely political acts, occasional docu
ments, nominations, recommendations, decisions upon personal
and passing differences. I look for instance at the capitulary
rendered in 794 by the assembly of Frankfort,4 and among the
54 articles of which it is composed, I find:
(Art. 1.) Letters of pardon granted to Tassilon, duke of
the Bavarians, who had revolted against Charlemagne.
(Art. 6.) Arrangements for the settlement of a dispute
between the bishop of Vienne, and the archbishop of Aries
and others, respecting the limits of the sees of the Tarentaise,
Embrun, and Aix. It sets forth that letters from the pope
on these matters were read, and that it was determined to
consult anew with his holiness.
(Art. 7). As to the justification offered, and the pardon
received, by bishop Pierre.
i Baluze, i. 395. Cap. a. 803, § 12 , Baluze, i. 398.
> Ba!uze, i. 331. * ld.,ib 26

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 219
(Art. 8). As to the deposition of the pretended bishop
Gerbod. (Art. 53). Charlemagne procures the assent of the assem
bly of bishops to the pope's licence, authorizing him to retain
about his person bishop Hildebold as his minister of eccle
siastical affairs.
(Art. 54). He recommends Alcuin to the good wishes and ,
prayers of the assembly.
There is obviously nothing legislative here.
Thus, at first glance, on the most simple examination of
the nature of these various acts, and without entering into
any close inspection of their contents, you see how wholly
erroneous is the general, the common idea entertained of
these capitularies: they constitute anything but a code; they
comprise anything but laws. Let us now take a closer view;
let us penetrate into the interior of the 'collection, and
examine the articles of which each capitulary is composed;
we shaU here find the same diversity, the same confusion; we
shaU here in Uke manner find how inadequate has been the
attention hitherto paid io 1his study, and how faUacious are
most of the results which have been deduced from it.
I have analyzed the sixty-five capitularies of Charlemagne,
classifying under eight heads, according to the nature of the
provisions, the articles which they comprise. These eight
heads are:
1. Moral legislation.
2. Political legislation.
-3. Penal legislation.
4. Civil legislation.
5. Eeligious legislation.
6. Canonical legislation.
7. Domestic legislation.
3. Occasional legislation.
I wiU first lay this classification before you, and then make
some observations upon each head.

220

HISTORY OF

Analytical Table of the Capitularies

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CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE

221

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Let us now examine a little more closely the contents ot
this table; the examination will be a very rapid one, but
sufficient, I hope, to give you an idea of the true character of
the government of Charlemagne, and of the monuments which
exist of it in this collection.
I. Moral Legislation. — I have classed under this title
those articles which are neither commanding nor prohibitory;
which, in truth, are not laws at all, but mere advice, sug
gestions, or moral precepts. For instance:
" Avarice consists in desiring the possessions of others, and
in not giving to others a share of that which we ourselves
222 nisTORY op
possess: according to the apostle, it is the root of all evil, and
it should, therefore, be carefully avoided.1
" Those who apply themselves to amass property by a'l
sorts of ways make dishonourable gains.2
" All men should practise hospitality.3
" Keep clear of theft, of unlawful marriages, of bearing
false witness, as we have often exhorted you, and as is exhorted
by the Word of God."*
The legislator goes even further than this; he seems to
thinks himself responsible for the conduct of each individual,
and apologises for not being able to fulfil this responsibility
to the extent he desires:
" It is necessary," he says, " that every man should seek, to
the best of his strength and ability, to serve God and walk in
the way of his precepts; for the lord emperor cannot watch
over each person individually, with the necessary care, or
keep each man in proper discipline." 5
Is not this pure morality? Such provisions are foreign to
the laws of rising societies and to those of perfected societies:
open the Salic law and our codes, you will find nothing of
the kind there; they in no way address themselves to human
liberty in order to give it counsel ; they contain merely for
mally prohibitive or imperative texts. But in the passage
from primitive barbarism to civilization, legislation takes
another character; morality is introduced into it, and be
comes, for a certain period, matter of law. Skilful legis
lators, founders or reformers of societies, comprehend the
empire which the idea of duty exercises over men; the in
stinct of genius warns them, that without its support, with
out the free concurrence of the human wiU, society can
neither be maintained nor developed in peace; and they
apply themselves to introduce this idea into the souls of men
in every kind of way, and they make legislation a kind of
preaching, a medium of instruction. Consult the history of
every nation, the Hebrews, the Greeks, &c, you will every
where recognise this fact; you will everywhere find, between
the epoch of the primitive laws — which are purely penal, pro-
1 Cap. a. 806, § 15 ; Baluze, i. 454. 2 Ib. % 16.
8 Cap. a. 794, § 33 ; ib. 268. * Ib. 789. § 56 ; ib. 236.
" 6 Cap. a. 802 § 3 ; ib. 364.

CIVILIZATION IN PRANCE. 222
hibitive, destined to repress the abuses of force — and the
epoch of scientific laws, which have confidence in morality, in
the reason of individuals, and leave all which is purely moral
in the domain of liberty, — between these two epochs, I say,
you will always find one in which morality is the object of
legislation, in which legislation formaUy writes and teaches
it. Gaulo-Frankish society was at this point when Charle
magne governed it; and this was one of the causes of his
close aUiance with the church, the only power then capable
of teaching and preaching moraUty.
I accordingly comprehend, under the name of moral legis
lation, aU relating to the inteUectual development of men ;
for example, all the provisions of Charlemagne concerning
schools, what books to distribute, the reformation of ecclesias
tical offices, &c.
11. Political Legislation. — This is one of the most consider
able portions of the capitularies; it comprehends two hundred
and ninety -thre'e articles. Under this head I place —
I. The laws and measures of Charlemagne of all kinds, to
ensure the execution of his orders throughout the extent of
his states; for example, aU provisions relative to the nomina
tion or conduct of his various agents, counts, dukes, vicars,
centeniers, &c; they are numerous, and are constantly re
peated. 2. The articles whose object is the administration of jus
tice, the sitting of local courts, the forms to be foUowed there,
the miUtary service, &c.
3. The police legislations, which are very various, and
sometimes go into the most minute details; the provinces, the
army, the church, merchants, beggars, public places, the in
terior of the imperial palace, alternately form the object of
them. We there meet, for example, with an attempt to fix
the price of goods, a veritable attempt at a maximum price.
" The most pious lord our king has decreed, with the con
sent of the holy synod, that no man, ecclesiastic or layman,
shall, whether in times of plenty or in times of scarcity, sell
provisions dearer than at the price recently fixed by the bushel,
namely: a bushel of oats, one denier; of barley, two deniers;
of rye, three deniers; of wheat, four deniers. If he desires to
sell it in loaves, he shall give twelve loaves of wheat, each of
two pounds, for one denier, fifteen loaves of rye, twenty of

224 HISTORY OF
barley, or twenty-five of oats, of the same weight, also for
one denier, &c." '
The suppression of mendicity and a poor rate, likewise ap
pear there.
" With regard to vagrant mendicants, we order, that each
of our subjects support his own poor, whether on his fees or
within his house, and not allow them to go elsewhere to beg.
If such beggars are found, and they do no work with their
hands, let no one think of giving them anything." 2
The provisions relative to the internal regulation of the
palace give a singular idea of the disorders and violences
which were committed there:
" We will and order that none of those who serve in our
palace, take upon himself to receive any man who seeks a re
fuge there, and comes there to conceal himself, on account of
robbery, homicide, adultery, or any other crime; that if any
free man violate our prohibition, and conceal a malefactor in
our palace, he shaU be forced to carry him on his shoulders
to the public place, and there he shall be attached to the same
post as the malefactor. . . . Whoever shaU find men fighting
in our palace, and cannot or will not put an end to the con
flict, he shall pay a share of the damage which they have
caused, &c."3
The capitularies contain numberless analogous provisions;
internal police was evidently of great importance in the
government of Charlemagne.
4. I class, also, under the head of poUtical legislation all
which concerns the distinction between the lay and the
ecclesiastical powers and their relations. Charlemagne made
great use of the ecclesiastics — they were, in truth, his prin
cipal means of government; but he wished to make use of
them, and not for them to make use df him: the capitularies
attest his vigilance in governing the clergy himself, and
keeping it under his power. You have seen, by some of the
questions which he proposed addressing to the bishops in the
general assemblies, to what a degree he was impressed with
this idea. » Cap. a. 794, § 2, vol. i. col. 263
2 Cap. a. 806, § 10 ; vol. i. col. 454.
» Cap. a. 800, § 3 and 4; vol. i. col. 343.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 225
5. It seems to me necessary, lastly, to refer to political
legislation, the provisions relative to the administration of tho
sees conceded by Charlemagne, and his relations with the
beneficiaries. This was certainly one of the leading features
of his government, and one of those to which he most assidu
ously called the attention of the missi.
I need not point out to you that the genera* character of
all this political legislation, in its various parts, is a con
tinual, indefatigable effort towards order and unity.
III. Penal legislation. This in general is scarcely mora
than the renewal, to a certain extent, of the ancient Salic,
Eipuarian, Lombard, barbarian, &c. laws. Punishment, re
pression of crimes, of abuse of force, is, as you have seen,
almost the only object, the essential character of those laws.
There was, therefore, less to do in this respect than in any
other. The new provisions which Charlemagne here and
there added, were in general for the object of mitigating the
ancient legislation, especiaUy the rigour of the punishments
inflicted upon slaves. In some cases, however, he aggra
vated the punishment, instead of mitigating it — when, for
example, punishments were a political instrument in his
hands. Thus the punishment of death, so rare in the bar
baric laws, recurs in almost every article of a capitulary of
the year 789, intended to restrain and convert the Saxons;
almost every violation of order, every relapse into idolatrous
practices, is punished with death.1 With these exceptions,
the penal legislation of Charlemagne has but Uttle originality
or interest.
VI. The civil legislation offers but Uttle more. Here,
also, the ancient laws, the ancient customs, remained in
vigour; Charlemagne had very little to alter in them. He,
however, carefuUy occupied himself, doubtless at the instiga
tion of the ecclesiastics, with the condition of persons,
especially with the relations between men and women. It is
evident that at this epoch these relations were prodigiously
irregular — that a man took and quitted a woman without
scruple, and almost without formality. The result was a
great disorder in individual morality, and in the state of
families. The civil law was thence strongly interested in
the reformation of manners, and Charlemagne understood
1 Bal.,vol. i. col. 251.
vol. ii. a

22(3 HISTORY Off
this. Hence the great number of provisions inserted in hie
capitularies concerning the conditions of marriages, the
degrees of parentage, the duties of husbands towards wives,
the duties of widows, &c. The greater portion of these pro
visions are borrowed from canonical legislation; but it must
not be supposed that their motive and origin was purely
religious — the interest of civil life, the necessity of fixing and
of regulating the family, had evidently a large share therein.
"V. Religious legislation. By religious legislation, I mean
provisions relative, not to the clergy, to ecclesiastics alone, but
to the faithful, to the Christian people, and to its relations
with the priests. It is thus distinguished from canonical
legislation, which concerns only the ecclesiastical society, the
relations of the clergy among themselves. The foUowing
are some provisions of religious legislation:
" Let care be taken not to venerate the names of false mar
tyrs, or the memory of doubtful saints." '
"Let no one suppose that God is only to be prayed, to in
three languages,2 for God is adored in aU languages, and man
is heard if he ask just things."3
" Let preaching always be performed in such a manner
that the common people may be able to understand it tho
roughly." 4
These provisions have generally a character of good sense,
even of liberty of mind, which one would scarcely expect to
find in them.
VI. The canonical legislation is that which occupies the
greatest place in the capitularies, and naturally so; the
bishops (as I have already observed) were the principal
counsellors of Charlemagne; they sat in the greatest numbers
iu the general assemblies; their affairs were always attended
to first. Accordingly, these assembhes were generaUy looked
upon as councils, and their laws were transmitted to the col
lection of canons. They are almost all drawn up in the
interest of the power of the bishops. You wiU remember
that at the accession of the Carlovingian race, the episcopal
aristocracy, strong as it had been, was in complete dissolution.
i Cap. a. 789, § 41 ; a. 794, § 40 ; vol. i. col. 228, 269.
2 Probably in Latin, Greek, and the German language.
» Cap. a. 794, § 50 : vol. i. col. 270.
« Cap. a. 813, § 14; vol. i. col. 505.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 227
Charlemagne reconstituted it; under his hand, it regained the
regularity, the entirety it had lost, and became, for many
centuries, the dominant ruler of the church. At a later
period, I shall speak of this more minutely.
VII. The domestic .legislation contains only what relates to
the administration of the private property, the farms of
Charlemagne; an entire capitulary, entitled de Villis, is a col
lection of various instructions, addressed at different periods of
his reign to the persons employed on his domains, and which
have been erroneously assembled under the form of a single
capitulary. M. Anton has given, in his History of German
Agriculture in the Middle Ages,1 a very curious commentary
upon this capitulary, and upon all the domestic details which
we find there.
VIII. The occasional legislation is inconsiderable in
amount; only twelve articles belong to this head, and I have
just cited some of them.
Here closes my examination, far too brief in itself, doubt
less, but still more detailed, more definite, I think, than any
previously made, of the legislation of Charlemagne and its
object. I say legislation, because I wish to avail myself of
words in common use; otherwise, it is quite clear that in all
we have gone through there is nothing of what we understand
by a code, and that Charlemagne, in his capitularies, did any
thing but legislate. Capitularies are, properly speaking, the
whole acts of his government, public acts of all kinds by
which he manifested his authority. It is evident that the
coUection which has come down to us is far from containing
all those acts, and that a large number of them are wanting.
There are whole years for which we have no capitularies; in
those which we do possess we find provisions which relate to
acts which are missing. The coUection of Baluze is a mere
collection of fragments; they are mutilated wrecks, not of the
legislation only, but of the whole government of Charlemagne.
This is the point of view under which any one wishing to
make an accurate study of the capitularies should view them
in order to comprehend and explain them.
In our next lecture, we shall begin to occupy ourselves with
the state of mind at the same epoch, and with the influence
of Charlemagne over intellectual development.
1 In German vol. i. p. 177—243.
Q2

22S HISTORY OP

TWENTY-SECOND LECTUEE.

Of intellectual decay in Frankish Gaul, from the fifth to the eightli centur/
— Of its causes — It ceases under the reign of Charlemagne — Difficulty
of describing the state of the human mind at this epoch — Alcuin is its
most complete and faithful representative — Life of Alcuin — His labours
for the restoration of manuscripts — For the restoration of schools — His
teaching in the school of the palace — His relations with Charlemagne —
His conduct as abbot of Saint Martin of Tours — His works ; 1. Theo
logical ; 2. Philosophical and literary ; 3. Historical ; 4. Poetical — His
general character.
I have said, and I consider it established, that, from the fifth
to the eighth century, decay in Frankish Gaul was constant
and general; that it was the essential character of the time,
and only stopped under the reign of Charlemagne.
If this character was anywhere more visible, more signal
than elsewhere, it was in the intellectual order, in the history
of the human mind at this epoch. Eecal to mind through
what vicissitudes we have seen it pass. At the end of the
fourth century, two literatures, two philosophies, marched, as
it were, side by side, profane literature and sacred Uterature,
pagan philosophy and Christian theology. It is true, profane
literature and pagan philosophy were dying; but they still
breathed. We saw them soon disappear; sacred Uterature
and Christian theology alone remained. We have continued
on our way; Christian theology and sacred literature them
selves have disappeared; we no longer meet with anything
but sermons, legends, monuments of an entirely practical
activity, devoted to the wants of actual Ufe, -foreign to the
research and contemplation of the true and beautiful. This
is the state into which the human mind had fallen in the
seventh and during the first half of the eighth century.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 229
This decay has been generally attributed to the tyranny
of the church, to the triumph of the principle of authority
and faith over the principle of liberty and reason. Quite
modern writers, men of impartiaUty and learning — Tenne-
mann, for example, in his History of Philosophy1 — have
adopted this explanation. The absolute authority of the
church, and the doctrine of pure and simple faith, opposed
to that of rational inquiry, have, doubtless, powerfuUy
contributed to weaken the human mind; but it was at a
later period that their influence was exercised. At the epoch
which occupies us, this cause, I think, had as yet acted
but feebly. Eecal to mind the picture I placed before you
of the state of the Christian church at the fifth century;2
Uberty then wsis great. Now, from the fifth to the eighth
century, the church was not constituted with sufficient regu
larity or strength to exercise tyranny; none of the means of
government by which, at a later period, she dominated over
mind were then within her hands; the rising papacy as yet
possessed only a power of influence and counsel; episcopacy,
although it was the dominant system of the ecclesiastical
society, was weak and disordered; councils became rare; no
authority was firm and general; if there had been any true
energy of mind, doubtless it would easily have forced itself
into Ught. At a later period, from the 11th to the 14th
century, the church was strong; her power was regularly
organized; the principle of implicit submission to her decision
reigned in the minds of men; and yet intellectual activity
was far greater. There was then a real danger in struggling
against the church, and yet men struggled: they resisted her
pretensions, they even assaUed her title. The seventh century
made no attempt at ax*ack or resistance; the ecclesiastical
power and freedom of thought had not even occasion to com
mence a struggle.
It is not, then, to this cause that the inteUectual apathy and
sterility of this epoch are to be attributed. The fall of the
empire, its disorders and miseries, the dissolution of social
relations and ties, the occupations and sufferings of per
gonal interests, the impossibility of permanent labour, of
• In German, vol. viii. p. 1 — 8.
* See vol. i., the third and fourth lectures.

230 HISTOBY ov \
tranquil leisure, such were the true causes of the moral, as
well as of the political decay, and of the darkness which en
veloped the human mind.
Whatever may be the cause of it, the fact is undeniable*
If we considered in its entirety the history of the human
mind in modern Europe, from the fifth century up to our own
days, we should find, I think, that the seventh century is the
lowest point to which it has descended, the nadir of its course,
so to speak. With the end of the eighth century began its
movement of progress.
It is rather difficult to characterize this movement with
exactness, and to sum up in a few characteristic words the
intellectual state of Frankish-Gaul under Charlemagne. No
one simple idea dominates in it. The works which then
occupied mind formed no whole, attached themselves to no
principle. They are partial, isolated works; the activity is
sufficiently great, but manifests itself by no great results;
all attempt to systematise this time under a moral point of
view — to reduce it to any general and striking fact, would
infallibly misrepresent it.
Another method appears to me more suited to make it
known and understood. We find in this period a man with
a mind doubtless more active and extensive than any around
him, except that of Charlemagne; superior in instruction and
intellectual activity to any of his contemporaries, without
elevating himself much above them by the originality of his
knowledge of ideas; in a word, a faithful representative of
the intellectual progress of his epoch, which he outstripped in
all things, but without ever separating himself from it. This
man is Alcuin. It is necessary, as a general rule, to give
way only with extreme reserve to the temptation to take a
r a-ticular man as the image, the representative of an epoch.
Such comparisons are more ingenious than sohd. On the
one hand, a society, however declining and sterile it may be,
is almost always, intellectually speaking, greater and richer
than an individual. It comprehends a body of ideas, of
knowledge of facts, and of moral wants, which are not repro
duced within the narrow space of an individual existence.
On the other hand, a distinguished man, even when originahty
is not his pre-eminent characteristic, always differs greatly
from the mass of his contemporaries- he is himself, and not a

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 231
nation; so that, under a twofold relation, the representation
is incorrect, and the image faUacious. Care should be taken,
in this particular case wliich occupies us, not to depend too
much upon it, though it is, perhaps, here more faithful than
in any other instance. Alcuin is, perhaps, one of the men
who best represent their epoch; stiU we must make many
reservations. And, at the same time that I place him before
you as the expression of the state of the human mind at the
end of the eighth century, I should wish to be sure that you
will reduce this comparison to its true value.
Alcuin was not a Frenchman. It will be sufficient to
cast a glance at the last table in the previous lecture,
to see that Charlemagne took great care to attract distin
guished foreigners into his states, and that among those who
helped to second inteUectual development in Frankish Gaul,
many came from abroad. Charlemagne even did more. We
see, at the seventeenth century, that Louis XIV., not content
with protecting letters in his kingdom, extended his encourage
ment and favour to them throughout Europe. Colbert wrote
to learned Germans, Dutch, Alsatians, to announce to them, on
the part of the king, presents and pensions, which went some
times as high as three thousand livres. Analogous facts are
met with under Charlemagne; he not only strove to attract
distinguished men into his states, but he protected and en
couraged them wherever he discovered them. More than one
Anglo-Saxon abbey shared his liberality; and learned men
who, after following him into Gaul, wished to return to their
country, in no way became strangers to him. Peter of Pisa
and Paul Warnefried, who remained but a short time in
Gaul, experienced this. Alcuin fixed himself there per
manently. He was born in England, at York, about
735. The inteUectual state of Ireland and England was
then superior to that of the continent; letters and schools
prospered there more than anywhere else. It is rather diffi
cult to assign any precise causes for this fact; the principal of
them, I think, is the following: — Christianity was carried
into Ireland by Greek missionaries, and into England
by Latin missionaries. In Ireland, during the first ages
which foUowed its introduction, no invasion of barbarians
came to stop its progress.' to disperse the monasteries and
schools, to stifle the intellectual movement which it had set

232 HISTORY OF
on foot. In England, when the missionaries of Gregory the
Great arrived, the barbaric invasion was consummated, the
Saxons well established; there also, therefore, Christianity
had not to undergo, at least not at this epoch, or until the
great incursion of the Danes, any social disorder; its studies
and its various works were not violently interrupted. I
placed before you, in the beginning of this course,1 the view
of the intellectual state of Gaul in the fourth, and at the
commencement of the fifth century; neither schools nor
literary men were wanting to it; and if the Visigoths, the Bur
gundians, the Franks, had not brought chaos and ruin intp
it, the human mind, although weakened, had not faUen into
the state in which we find it at the seventh century. This is
the advantage which England possessed at that epoch; society
here had not been ravaged or broken up by recent, continual
invasions. The estabhshments for study and science which
Christianity had formed there, were still erect, and quietly
pursued their labours.
Whether this cause is or is not sufficient to explain it, the
fact is incontestable. The schools of England, and particularly
that of York, were superior to those of the continent. That
of York possessed a rich library, where many of the works of
pagan antiquity were found; among others, those of Aristotle,
which it is a mistake to say were first introduced to the know
ledge of modern Europe by the Arabians, and the Arabians
only; for from the fifth to the tenth century, there is no '
epoch in which we do not find them mentioned in some library,
in which they were not known and studied by some men
of letters. Alcuin himself informs us of the instruction
which they gave in the school of the monastery of York. We
read in his poem, entitled, Pontiffs and Saints of the Church
of York : —
" The learned iElbert gave drink to thirsty minds at the
sources of various studies and sciences. To some he was
eager to communicate the art and rules of grammar; for
others he made flow the waves of rhetoric. He exercised these
in the combats of jurisprudence, and those in the songs of
Adonia. Some learned from him to sound the pipes of Cas-
taUa, and to strike with a lyric foot the summits of Parnassus
1 Vol. i., lectures third and fourth.

CIVILIZATION lN FRANCE. 233
To others he taught the harmony of heaven, the works of the
sun and the moon, the five zones of the pole, the seven
wandering stars, the laws of the course of the stars, their
appearance and decUne, the motions of the sea, the tremblings
of the earth, the nature of men, of beasts, and birds, and the
inhabitants of woods; he unveiled the various qualities and
the combinations of numbers; he taught how k> calculate with
certainty the solemn return of Easter; and, above all, he
explained the mysteries of the holy scriptures."1
Eeduce this pompous description to simple terms: grammar,
rhetoric, jurisprudence, poetry, astronomy, natural liistory,
mathematics, chronology, and the explanation of the holy
scriptures, these surely form an extensive course of in
struction, more extensive than was found at this epoch in
any school in Gaul or Spain. He who taught these, this
Albert whom Alcuin celebrates, became archbishop of York,
and Alcuin succeeded him in his functions.
About this time, before 766, he had already made one, or
even two journeys to the continent. The occasion and
date of these journeys are very difficult to determine. I
wiU not occupy you with these details of minute and compli
cated criticism. Some learned men have thought that at that
time — at Pavia, perhaps — Alcuin saw Charlemagne. If the
fact be true, it is to no purpose, for we know absolutely
nothing of their first connexion. But, in 780, on the death
of archbishop ..Elbert, and the accession of his successor,
Eanbald, Alcuin received from him the mission to proceed to
Eome for the purpose of obtaining from the pope and bringing
to him the pallium. In returning from Eome, he came
to Parma, where he found Charlemagne. It is not known
whether this was the first time of their seeing each other;
but, at all events, the emperor at once pressed him to take up
his abode in France. After some hesitation, Alcuin accepted
the invitation, subject to the permission of his bishop, and
of his own sovereign. The permission was obtained, and in
782 we find him established in the court of Charlemagne,
who at once gave him three abbeys, those of Ferrieres in
Gatinois, of St. Loup at Troyes, and of St. Josse in the
county of Ponthieu.
' Pontiffs and Saints of the Church of York, v. 1431 — 1447 ; Alcuini
Opera, vol, ii. p. 256, ed. Frohben, 1777.

234 HISTORY OF
From this time forth, Alcuin was the confidant, the coun
cillor, the intellectual prime minister, so to speak, of Charle
magne. Let us endeavour to form somewhat of a clear and
complete idea of his labours.
In doing so, we must observe a distinction between his
practical activity and his scientific activity, between the im
mediate results of his personal influence, and those of his
writings. In the practical point of view, as intellectual prime minis
ter of Charlemagne, Alcuin did, more especiaUy, three things
— 1. He corrected and restored the manuscripts of ancient
literature; 2. He revived public schools and pubUc studies;
3. He himself taught.
1. The historians mention only in passing, and without
attaching any importance to it, a fact which really played an
important part in the revival of intellectual activity at this
period; I mean the revision and correction of ancient manu
scripts, both sacred and profane. From the sixth to the
eighth century, these had gone through the hands of copyists
so ignorant that the texts had become altogether unrecogni
sable; infinite passages had been mutilated and misplaced; the
leaves were in the utmost disorder; aU orthographical and
grammatical correctness had disappeared; to read and under
stand the works thus injured, required absolute science, and
of science there was less and less every day. To remedy
this evil, to restore ancient manuscripts to their proper read
ing and order, to correct their orthography and their gram
mar, was one of the first tasks to which Alcuin applied him
self; a task which continued to occupy him throughout the
remainder of his life, which he constantly recommended to his
pupils, and in the fulfilment of which he was supported by
Charlemagne's authority. We find among the capitularies
an ordinance in these terms: —
" Charles, by the aid of God, king of the Francs and Lom
bards, and prince of the Eomans, to the high ministers of
religion throughout our dominions: Having it near at heart
that the state of the churches should more and more advance
towards perfection, and being desirous of restoring by assiduous
care the cultivation of letters, which have almost entirely dis
appeared from amongst us, in consequence of the neglect and
indifference of our ancestors, we would excite by oui own

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 235
example all weU-disposed persons to the study of the liberal arts.
To this purpose, we have already, by God's constant help,- accu
rately corrected the books of the Old and New Testament,
corrupted by the ignorance of the copyists. We could not
endure that in the divine services, amidst the sacred lessons,
there should occur discordant solecisms, and we therefore
conceived the design of reforming these lessons. We en
trusted this work to our proved servant, the deacon Paul.
We enjoined him diligently to go through the writings of the
catholic fathers; to cull amidst those fertile meads the finest
and most useful flowers, and to form of these one sweet and
beneficial garland. Eager to obey our highness, he reperused
the treatises and discoveries of the various catholic fathers,
and selecting the best of these, has presented to us, in two
volumes, a series of divine readings, freed from inaccuracies,
adapted to each sacred day throughout the year. We have
examined the texts of these volumes with our sagacity, and
having found them worthy of our sanction and authority, we
transmit them to you to be read in the churches of Christ
under your care."1
Whilst he was thus, by the agency of others, collecting
and correcting the texts destined for divine services, Alcuin
himself laboured at a complete revisal of the sacred writings.
He concluded it about the year 801, in the abbey of St. Martin
de Tours, and sent it to Charlemagne. " I long meditated,"
he says, " what present I could offer you, not merely not un
worthy of the glory of your imperial power, but which might
form some addition to your wealth; for I could not consent that
while others were laying at your feet rich gifts of every kind,
my humble talents should remain so idle as not to prepare
some offering to your beatitude. At length, by an inspira
tion of the Holy Ghost, I thought of a present at once suit
able in me to offer, and calculated to be agreeable to your
wisdom. What, indeed, could be more worthy of you than
the divine books, which I herewith send to your Most Illus
trious Authority, collected into one body, and carefully freed
from all errors, to the utmost of my ability and pains. If the
devotion of my heart could have devised anything -better, I
1 Constitution of Charlemagne, addressed to the bishops, in 788 ; Baluze,
i. 203.

236 HISTORY OF
would have offered it to you with equal zeal for the increase
of your glorious fortune."'
This present, it would seem, excited the emulation of
Charlemagne himself, for we read in Thegau, a contemporary
chronicler, that, " in the year which preceded Charlemagne's
death, he carefully corrected, by the assistance of certain
learned Greeks and Syrians, the four gospels of Jesus
Christ."2 Such examples, and such orders, could not faU of effect,
and the ardour for the reproduction of ancient manuscripts
became general; as soon as an exact revision of any work
had been completed by Alcuin or one of his disciples, copies
of it were transmitted to the principal churches and abbeys,
where fresh copies were made for diffusion amongst the lesser
churches and abbeys. The art of copying became a source
of fortune, of glory even; the monasteries in which the most
correct and beautiful copies were executed, attained celebrity
on this sole account ; and in each monastery, the monks who
most excelled in the art were, in like manner, honoured among
their brethren. The abbey of Fontenelle, and two of its
members, Ovon and Hardouin, were especially renowned in
this respect. The fraternities at Eeims and at Corbie sought
to vie with the famed monks of Fontenelle; instead of the
corrupt characters which had been in use for the past two cen
turies, the smaU Eoman characters were resumed. The
monastic libraries soon became very considerable in their
extent; a great number of existing manuscripts date from
this period; and though its zeal was more peculiarly directed
to sacred literature, profane literature was not altogether
neglected. Alcuin himself, it is stated, on more than one
authority, revised and copied the plays of Terence.
II. At the same time that he was restoring manuscripts,
and thus supplying study with sound materials, he laboured
with ardour at the re-establishment of schools, which had
then fallen everywhere into decay: here again an ordinance
by Charlemagne shows us the measures, doubtless sug
gested by Alcuin himself, which were taken on this subject:
» Letters of Alcuin, i. 153, letter 103.
2 De la Vie et des Ades de Louis le Debonnaire, in my Collection des
Memoires relatifs a I' Histoire de France, 111, 281.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 237
_ " Charles, by the aid of God, &c, to Baugulf, abbot, and
his brotherhood, health:
" We beg to inform your Devotion to God that, in concert
with our counciUors, we have deemed it beneficial that in the
bishoprics and monasteries confided by the favour of Christ
\o our government, care should be taken, not only to live
orderly and according to our holy religion, but moreover
to instruct in the knowledge of letters, and according to the
capacity of individuals, all such as are willing and able to
learn, by God's help. For though of the two it is better to
be good than to be learned, yet to have knowledge leads to
the being good. In the various letters addressed to us from
monasteries, announcing that the brethren continued to pray
for us in their holy ceremonies, and in their private orisons,
we have remarked that for the most part, while the senti
ments were excellent, the language in which they were con
veyed was generally rude and illiterate; that the fine thoughts
and feelings which a pious devotion dictated within, an un
skilful and an uneducated tongue mutilated in the delivery.
This inspired us with an apprehension that the same want of
abhity which prevented men from writing properly, must
also operate in keeping them from a due understanding of
the holy scriptures. It is certain, at all events, that the
allegories, emblems, and imagery of the holy writings, will
be more readily comprehended in their true spiritual mean
ings, by those who are versed in general learning. We, there
fore, would have you select from among your brethren such as
may be deemed best fitted, for first acquiring themselves, and
then communicating to others, a knowledge of letters; and let
such proceed to their task with the least possible delay. As
you value our favour, fail not to communicate copies of this
communication to all the suffragan bishops, and all the mo
nasteries around you."1
Many contemporary monuments give evidence that this im
perial circular, as we should now call it, did not remain without
effect; that it resulted in the re-estabhshment of systematic
studies in the episcopal cities and in the great monasteries.
From this epoch date the majority of the schools, which soon
afterwards acquired such celebrity, and from which proceeded
» Baluze, 201.

233 history: of
the most distinguished men of the following century; for ex
ample, those of Ferrieres in Gatinois, of Fulda in the diocese
of Mayence, of Eeichenau in that of Constance, of Aniane
in Languedoc, of Fontenelle or St. Vandrille, in Normandy;
while most of the men who did honour to these establish
ments at the period in question had been disciples of Alcuin
himself, who, amid all his avocations, was a pubhc preacher
and a public teacher of great distinction.
III. It was not, however, in a monastery, nor in any pub
lic institution, that he taught in the first instance: from 782
to 796, the period of his residence in the court of Charle
magne, Alcuin presided over a private school, called The
School of the Palace, which accompanied Charlemagne wher
ever he went, and at which were regularly present aU those
who were with the emperor. Here, besides many others,
Alcuin had for auditors:
1. Charles, son of Charlemagne.
2. Pepin do.
3. Louis do.
4. Adalhard. -\
5. Angilbert. / Privy councillors of
6. Flavius Damcetas. f Charlemagne.
7. Eginhard. J
8. Eiculf, archbishop -of Mayence.
9. Eigbod, archbishop of Treves.
10. Gisla, sister of Charlemagne.
11. Gisla, daughter of Charlemagne.
12. Eichtrude, a nun of Chelles.
13. Gundrade, sister of Adalhard; and Charlemagne him
self, who took the most Uvely interest in the lessons given.
It is difficult to say what could have been the course of
instruction pursued in this school; I am disposed to believe
that to such auditors Alcuin addressed himself generally upon
all sorts of topics as they occurred; that in the Ecole du Palais,
in fact, it was conversation rather than teaching, especially
so called, that went on; that movement given to mind,
curiosity constantly excited and satisfied, was its chief merit.
At such periods, in the days of its new birth, amid the joy
of its first progress, the mind is neither regular nor fastidious;
it troubles itself very slightly as to the beauty and real utility of
its labours; that which it takes mos$ especial delight in is the

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 239
play of thought; it may be said to disport with itself rather
than to study; it is more intent upon its own immediate
activity than upon results; so that it is occupied with some
thing which interests it, that is aU it asks; let it but discover
or produce something new, unexpected, and it is all delight.
There has come down to us a singular specimen of the
instruction given at this Ecole du Palais : it is a conversation
entitled Disputatio, between Alcuin and Pepin, second son
of Charlemagne, at that period a youth of fifteen or sixteen:
I will Lay before you a Uteral translation of the greater portion
of this; you will judge for yourselves as to its claims to a
learned character, and whether it is what we now understand
by lessons. Interlocutors: Pepin, Alcuin.
"Pepin. What is writing?
Alcuin. The keeper of history.
P. What is speaking?
A. The interpreter of the soul.
P. What is it gives birth to speaking?
A. The tongue.
P. What is the tongue?
A. The whip of the air.
P. What is the air?
A. The preserver of Ufe.
P. What is life?
A. Happiness for the happy, misery for the miserable; the
expectation of death.
P. What is death?
A. An inevitable event, a doubtful journey, a subject of
tears for the Uving, the confirmation of wiUs, the robber of
men. P. What is man?
A. The slave of death, a passing traveUer, a guest in his
own abode.
P. How is man placed?
A. As a traveller exposed to the world.
P. Where is he placed?
A. Between six walls.
P. What are they?
A. That above, that below, that on the right, that on the
left, that in front, that behind.

240 history op
P. What is sleep?
A. The image of death.
P. What is the liberty of man?
A. Innocence.
P. What is the head?
A. The pinnacle of the body.
P. What is the body?
A. The abode of the soul.
(Next follow twenty-six questions relative to the various
parts of the human body, which I suppress as wholly destitute
of interest. Then Pepin goes on:)
P. What is heaven !
A. A moving sphere, an immense vault.
P. What is Ught?
A. The torch of all things.
P. What is the day?
A. A call to labour.
P. What is the sun?
A. The splendour of the universe, the beauty of the
firmament, the grace of nature, the glory of the day, the
distributor of the hours.
(I here again suppress five questions on the stars and
elements.) P. What is the earth?
A. The mother of all that grows, the nurse of all that
exists, the granary of life, the gulf which swaUows up all
things. P. What is the sea?
A. The highway of the daring, the Umits of the earth,
the hostelry of rivers, the source of rain.
(Now follow six whoUy uninteresting questions as to
material objects in nature. Then Pepin goes on:)
P. What is winter?
A. The exile of spring.
P. What is spring?
A. The painter of the earth.
P. What is summer?
A. The power which clothes the earth, and ripens fruts.
P. What is autumn?
A. The granary of the year,
P. What is the year?

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 241.
A. The chariot of the world.
(I here omit five astronomical questions.)
P. Master, I am afraid to go upon the sea
A. What leads you to the sea?
P. Curiosity.
A. If you are afraid, I will accompany you.
P. If I knew what a ship was, I would prepare one,
wherein thou mightest accompany me.
A. A ship is a wandering house, an inn ready in all
places, a traveller who leaves no trace behind him.
P. What is grass?
A. The robe of the earth.
P. What are vegetables?
A. The friends of the physician, the glory of the cooks.
P. What is it renders bitter things sweet?
A. Hunger.
P. What is that of which men never get weary?
A: Gain.
P. What is the dream of the waking?
A. Hope.
P. What is hope?
A. The refreshment of labour, a doubtful event.
P. What is friendship?
A. The similarity of souls.
P, What is faith?
A. The assurance of unknown aad marvellous things.
P. What is marvellous?
A. I saw the other day a man standing, a dead man
walking, a man walking who had never breathed.
P. How may that have been? Explain yourself.
A. It was an image reflected in the water.
P. How could I have failed to understand you; I who
have so often seen the same thing?
A. As you are a youth of good disposition, and endowed
with natural capacity, I will put to you several other unusual
questions: endeavour to solve them.
P. I wiU do my best; if I make mistakes, you must correct
them. A. Doubtless. Some one, who is unknown to me, has
conversed with me, having no tongue and no voice; he was
VOL. II. R

242 HISTORY OF
not before, he will not be hereafter, and I neither heard nor
knew him. What means this?
P. Perhaps you mean a dream, master?
A. Exactly so, my son. Listen, once more: I have seen
the dead engender the living, and the dead consumed by
the breath of the living.
P. Fire was produced by rubbing together dead branches,
and it then consumed the branches.
A. You are quite accurate.
(Then come fourteen more enigmas of the same character,
and the conversation terminates as follows) :
A. What is that which at one and the same time is and
is not? P. Nothing.
A. How can it be and not be?
P. It exists in name, but not in fact.
A. What is a mute messenger?
P. That which I hold in my hand.
A. What do you hold in your hand?
P. My letter.
A. Eead it, my son." l
Clearly, as a means of education, these conversations are
altogether and strangely puerile: as a symptom and com
mencement of intellectual movement, they merit all our
attention : they evidence that eager curiosity with which
mind, in its crude infancy, directs its view upon all things;
that so vivid pleasure which it takes in every unexpected
combination, in every at all ingenious idea; a tendency which
is manifested alike in the life of individuals and in that of
nations, and which gives birth to the most fantastic dreams,
the vainest subtleties. It was, beyond doubt, dominant in
the palace of Charlemagne, and, doubtless, led to the forma
tion of that sort of academy there, whose members all assumed
surnames derived from sacred or profane literature — Charle
magne — David, Alcuin — Flaccus, Angilbert — Homer, Fried-
gies — Nathaniel, Amalaire — Symphosius, Gisla — Lucia, Gun-
drade, — Eulalia, and so on; and the singular conversation of
which I have just laid extracts before you is, in all probability,.
only a fair specimen of that which habituaUy took place, and
' Alcuini Opera, ii. S52 — 354.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

243

to their no smaU delight, among these beaux-esprits, half
barbarian, half cultivated.
If the influence of Alcuin had been confined within the
walls of this academy, it would have effected but little worthy
of our notice; but the great business of his life was in con
nexion with Charlemagne, and the intellectual authority of
this extraordinary man was more grave and more productive
of results.
To give you an idea of the relations existing between
these two men, and of the prodigious movement of mind
which Alcuin was entrusted with the direction of, I cannot
do better than lay before you the most authentic monument
of them which exists — their correspondence. There remain
to us, in the whole, two-hundred-and-thirty-two of Alcuin's
letters; of these, thirty are addressed to Charlemagne; I will
pass these in review before you, sometimes translating
passages as I proceed, sometimes merely indicating the
nature of their contents.

Review of tiie Letters of Alcuin to Charlemagne.

1428

793
796

On the Transfiguration of Jesus Christ.
He congratulates him on his victories over the Huns,
(Avares,) and gives him advice as to the manner in which
he should proceed for their conversion : 1. By sending
among them gentle-mannered missionaries : 2. By not re
quiring tithe from them :
" It is better to lose the tithe than to prejudice the
faith ; we ourselves, born, bred, and educated in the
Catholic religion, scarce consent to surrender a tithe of
our goods ; how much less readily will such consent be
given by the newly-born faith, the doubtful heart and
greedy spirit of these tribes ?"
3. By observing a certain method of religious instruc- !
tion : |
" This method, I think, should be that which the blessed ;
Augustin has laid down in his book On the Instruction of '
the Simple-minded. The pupil should first be taught the '
general facts of the immortality of the soul, of a future
life, and the eternity of our destiny. Then he should be
told for what crimes and sins eternal punishment with the
devil and his angels will be inflicted on him, and for what
h2

244

HISTORY OF

32
38

796

796

61 6465

67

797 798 798

798

good actions he will be rewarded, in the presence of Christ,
with eternal glory. Finally, he should have carefully
inculcated upon him faith in the Holy Trinity, and have
explained to him the - coming of Jesus Christ into this
world, for the salvation of mankind."
He recommends him to be lenient towards his Hun
prisoners, and towards his enemies generally.
He gives him an account of what he is doing for the
prosperity of the school at the Abbey of Tours :
" I, your Flaccus, in obedience to your exhortation and
wise desire, apply myself in serving out to some of my
pupils in this house of Saint Martin, the honey of the
holy writings ; I essay to intoxicate others with the old
wine of antique studies ; one class I nourish with the
fruits of grammatical science ; in the eyes of another, I
display the order of the stars. But I am constantly in
want of most of those excellent books of scholastic erudi
tion, which I had collected around me in my own country,
both by the devoted zeal of my master, and by my own
labour. I therefore entreat your majesty to permit me to
send some of my people into Britain that they may bring
these flowers theace into France .... In the morning of
my life I sowed the seeds of learning in Britain ; now, in
its eventide, though my blood is less warm within me, I
do not cease sowing these seeds in France, and I hope
that by the grace of God they will prosper in both
countries." He gives him a detailed explanation of the lunar cycle.
He recommends several persons to his favour.
He explains to him the origin of the names of Septua-
gesima and Sexagesima. (The sixty-sixth letter is a reply
from Charlemagne, who puts forward several objections to
his views.)
He recurs to the subject, and defends himself from the
imputation of obstinacy.
" As to what you say in the conclusion of your letter,
in a most friendly spirit, and solely for my good, that, if
there be anything to correct in my opinions on the matter,
I should correct them promptly and humbly, I would reply
that, thanks to God, I have never been obstinately pertina
cious in error, uor over confident in my own opinion; I
yield without a struggle to superior judgment, attentive to
the maxim that it is better to make use of the ears than of
the tongue. I entreat your wisdom, then, to believe that
I address myself to you, not as to a disciple but as to a
judge, and that I offer you my humble ideas, not as to one

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

246

No. of

the
Letter.

Date.

68

797

69

798

70

798

71

798

80

799

81

799

84

800

85

800

90

800

91

800

93

800

102

801

103

801

104

801

105

801

ignorant of the matter, but as to one fully competent to
correct the views of others."
On the course of the sun and the phases 'of the year ;
and on the heresy of Felix, bishop of Urgel.
On astronomy and chrouology: he replies to several
questions which had been addressed to him by a woman,
probably Gisla, Charlemagne's sister.
On astronomy ; he replies to several questions of Charle
magne on the course of the sun, the constellations, &c.
On the same subject.
On the state of pubhc affairs ; he urges him to he lenient
towards the Saxons.
He excuses himself from accompanying Charlemagne
to Borne, on the ground of ill health.
A complimentary letter, with some astronomical calcu
lations. He thanks him for having heard read the pamphlet he
(Alcuin) had written against bishop Felix, and sends him
some observations on orthography and arithmetic.
He condoles with him on the death of his wife Lint-
garde, and forwards an epitaph.
On the same subject.
He congratulates him on his victories ; exhorts him to
clemency ; speaks to him about the health of pope Leo ;
excuses himself for not having written, and refuses to go
to Eome.
He felicitates himseff upon the return of Charlemagne
from Italy.
Forwarding his corrected copy of the holy scriptures.
He excuses himself from going to court, on the ground
of his advanced age.
He expresses' his sorrow for the death of Manfred,
solicits materials for the building of a church, and entreats
Charlemagne to be careful in avoiding the dangers of the
expedition to Benevento :
" Though my affection may appear insensate, at least
it cannot be charged with want of consistency ; and the
confidence I have in your proved humility, emboldens me
to say to you what I do. Perhaps some one may ob
ject : why does he concern himself with that which is not
his business ? But I humbly interest myself in all that
concerns your prosperity, which, I declare to you, is more
dear to me than my own life. You are the blessing of
the kingdom, the safety of the people, the honour of
the church, the protector of all the faithful in Christ ; it is
under the shadow of your power, the shelter of your

24S

HISTORY OF

| No. of
| the
Letter.

Date.

Purport.

106115

126

127

801

802

803

123

Year

uncer

taiu.

124

Id.

125

Id.

Id.

Id.

pious care, that, by Divine grace, we are enabled to
pursue a religious life', and to serve God in tranquillity:
it is, therefore, just and necessary, that, with an attentive
spirit and a devoted heart, we occupy ourselves with your
fortune and your health, and pray God to preserve to us
in health and prosperity our most excellent and most
honour-worthy king David."
He thanks him for liis favours, and entreats him, on
account of his infirmities, to allow him to remain at
St. Martin's.
He excuses himself and the fraternity of St. Martin
for having given an asylum to a priest of the church of
Orleans, which affair had been the occasion of a great
tumult in the church of St. Martin, and of great anger to
Charlemagne and Theodulf.
He replies to questions forwarded by Charlemagne, as
to the difference between the terms eternal and sempiternal,
perpetual and immortal, age and time.
He replies to questions from Charlemagne, on certain
passages of Scripture.
He replies to a question by Charlemagne, why we find
in none of the gospels the hymn sung by Jesus Christ
after the Last Supper.
He replies to Charlemagne, who has asked him, on the
part of a learned Greek, to whom the price of man's re
demption was remitted.
He gives advice to Charles on the subjects of capitu
laries, wills, successions, &c.

It was no easy task for Alcuin to fulfil such varied rela
tions, to satisfy all the intellectual requirements of that inde
fatigable master, who thought of everything and busied him
self with everything — history, morals, theology, astronomy,
chronology, grammar — and doubtless regarded it as a matter
of course, that in these things, as in all others, his wiU should
in every case, and immediately, be carried into effect.
There is doubtless a powerful charm in the society of a
great man; but when the great man is a sovereign, it soon be
comes a heavy burden to have to please him at every moment
and in everything. No formal text shows it us; but Charle
magne, in his relations with Alcuin, no doubt exhibited that
pitUess egoism of a superior and despotic genius, which only

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 247
considers men, even those whom it best loves, and to whom it
attaches the greatest importance, as tools, and progresses
towards its end without troubling itself as to how dear it
costs those whom it employs in the attainment. A profound
weariness seized upon Alcuin — he earnestly soUcited permis
sion to retire from the court, and to live in retirement. In
796, he wrote to an archbishop, whose name is unknown:
" Your paternity must know that I your son ardently
desire to lay aside the weight of worldly affairs, and to serve
God alone. Every man needs with vigilance to prepare to
meet God, and how especially so old men, borne down with
years and infirmities !" x
And to his friend Angilbert:
" On thy departure, I attempted many times to take refuge
in the haven of repose; but the King of all things, the Master
of souls, has not yet accorded to me what he has so long
made me wish." 2
Charlemagne at length allowed him to depart, and about
796, it seems, he gave him for a retreat the abbey of Saint
Martin of Tours, one of the most wealthy in the kingdom.
Alcuin hastened to take possession of it. The retreat was
magnificent; there were more than twenty thousand labourers
or serfs on the domains of the abbeys which he possessed,
and the correspondence which he continued to keep up with
Charlemagne animated without burdening his life. He did
not remain idle in his new situation; he re-established rule
and order in the monastery, emiched the library with manu
scripts copied at York by young priests whom he sent for
this purpose, and by his own teaching he gave the school a
briUiancy which it had never before known. It was at this
epoch that many of the most distinguished men of the follow
ing century — among others, Eaban Maur, who became arch
bishop of Mayence, and Amalaire, a learned priest of Metz—
were formed by his lessons.
Charlemagne attempted several times to recal Alcuin to
his side; he wished him, among others, to accompany him to
Eome, when he went there, in 800, to assume the empire of
the west. " It is a reproach," he writes to him, " to prefer
» Lett, of Alcuin, 168th, vol. i. p. 228. J Ibid. 21st, vol. i. p. 3,1.

248 HISTORY OF
the smoked roofs of the people of Tours to the gilded palaces
of the Eomans."1
But Alcuin remained firm.
" I do not think," answers he, " that my weak body,
broken by daily pains, can support this journey. I should
have much desired it, if it were practicable.2 How can I
constrain myself to new combats, and to toil under the
weight of arms — I, who am left by my infirmities scarcely in
a state to raise them from the earth?3 ... I implore you to
leave me to finish my career at Saint Martin; all the energy,
all the dignity of my body has flown; I admit it; less and
less is daily left me, and I shall never again recover it in this
world. I had of late desired and hoped once more to see the
face of your beatitude, but the deplorable increase of my in
firmities has proved to me that I must renounce that hope.
I conjure, then, your inexhaustible goodness that the so holy
spirit, that the so benevolent will, which are in you, be not
irritated against my weakness; grant, with a pious compas
sion, that a wearied man may repose himself, that he may
pray for you in his orisons, and that he may prepare, by con
fession and tears, to appear before the eternal judge." 4
Charlemagne, it seems, insisted no longer; and Alcuin,
perhaps in order to protect1 himself from new solicitations,
resolved entirely to renounce all activity, even that to which
he had given himself up in his retreat. In 801, he resigned his
abbeys, and obtained that they should be divided among his
principal disciples; and, free from all business, he, till the
day of his death, (19th May, 804,) occupied himself only
with his health and his salvation.
I have given somewhat of expansion to this account of his
relations with Charlemagne, and the various situations of his
life; it is there, more especially, that is reflected the image of
this time, and that the social movement amidst which he lived
is shown. I will now say something to you of his works: a
few words and a few extracts will, I hope, suffice to give you
at least an idea of them.
They may be divided into four classes: 1, theological
' Lett, of Alcuin, 93rd, vol. i. p. 138. 2 Ibid. 81st letter, p. 120.
» Ibid. 104th letter, p. 154.' « Ibid. 106th, p. 157.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 249
works; 2, philosophical and literary works; 3, historical
works; 4, poetical works.
1. The theological works are of three kinds: 1. Commen
taries on various parts of the holy scriptures; commentaries
whose especial object is to discover 'the allegorical meaning,
and to determine the moral sense of the sacred writings.
2. Dogmatical treatises, the greater part directed against the
heresies of the Adoptians respecting the nature of Jesus
Christ; a heresy which played a rather important part at this
time, which was condemned by two councils held by the order
of Charlemagne, and of which Alcuin was the principal ad
versary. 3. Liturgical works on the celebration of ecclesi
astical offices.
2. The philosophical and literary works are s-ix in number:
1, a kind of treatise of practical morality, entitled De Virtuti-
bus et Vitus, and addressed to count Wido or Guy, in a dedica
tory epistle, and a peroration in the following terms:
"I recollect thy request and my promise; thou didst
urgently pray me to write thee some exhortations in a con
cise style, in order that, amidst the occupations given thee by
mUitary affairs, thou mightest constantly have before thine
eyes a manual of maxims and paternal counsels, where thou
mightest examine thyself, and excite thyself to seek eternal
beatitude. I very willingly comply with so worthy a request,
and be assured that, although these counsels may appear to
thee written without eloquence, they are dictated by holy
charity. I have divided this discourse into separate chapters,
so that my advice may be more easily fixed on the memory
of thy piety: for I know thou art much occupied with worldly
affairs. Let the holy desire to thy salvation, I beseech thee,
make thee often have recourse to this reading, as to a useful
refreshment; so that thy soul, fatigued with external cares,
may enter into itself, there find enjoyment, and understand
properly to what it ought especially to apply itself.
" And do not allow thyself to be deterred by the lay habit
which thou wearest, or by the secular life which thou leadest,
as though in that habit thou couldst not pass through the
gates of celestial life. For as the beatitude of the kingdom
of God is preached to all without distinction, so the entry to
that kingdom is open equally, with only a distinction as to
merits, to each sex, to all ages, to all ranks; there no heed is

250 HISTORY OF
taken as to whether a man on earth has been layman or priest,
rich or poor, young or old, master or slave, but eternal glory
crowns each according to his works." 1
Thirty-five chapters then follow upon the various virtues
and vices, wisdom, faith," charity, indulgence, envy, pride, &c.
"We find nothing here particularly original or profound; but
practical utility is aimed at with much good sense, and human
nature is sometimes observed and described with a highly
intellectual delicacy. The foUowing two chapters prove it.
" Of Sorrow.
" There are two kinds of sorrow, the one beneficial, the
other pernicious. Sorrow is beneficial when the soul of the
sinner is afflicted with his sins, and is so afflicted with them
that it aspires to confession and penitence, and desires to be
converted to God. Very different is worldly sorrow, which
works the death of the soul, become incapable of accom
plishing any good; this latter troubles man, and often de
presses him to that point that he loses the hope of eternal
good. Of this sorrow are born malice, rancour, cowardice,
bitterness, and despair, often even disgust at this life. It is
conquered by spiritual joy, hope of future blessings, the
consolation given by the Scriptures, and by fraternal con
versation, animated with spiritual enjoyment." 2
" Of Vain glory.
" That pest, vain glory, is a passion with a thousand forms,
which glides on all sides into the heart of the man who
is occupied in striving against vices, and even of the
man who has conquered them. In the deportment and the
beauty of the body, in step, word, action, fasts, prayer,
solitude, reading, science, silence, obedience, humility, long-
suffering, patience, it seeks a means of overcoming the
soldier of Christ; it resembles a dangerous rock concealed
under swollen billows, and which prepares a terrible storm
for those who sail the most successfully, and when they
are all unsuspecting. This man, who does not take pride in
fine and splendid clothing, the demon of false glory endea
vours to inspire with a pride in the foulness and coarse-
» Alcuir Oper. voi, u. jij> 129. lis 2 Chan. 33, vol. ii. p. 168.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 251
ness of common clothing; another has resisted the tempta
tions of ambition, he will be lost by those of humility; a
third has not aUowed himself to be puffed up by the advan
tages of science and eloquence, he will be subdued by the
gravity of silence. One publicly fasts, and vain glory pos
sesses him; to escape it he fasts in secret; it insinuates its
poison into the swelling heart of the internal man; for fear of
succumbing he avoids long prayer before his brothers, but
what he does in secret does not protect him from the excite
ments of vanity; it puffs one, because he is very patient in
his works and labours; another, because he is very prompt to
obey; this man, because he surpasses aU others in humility;
that, because of his zeal in science; a third, by reason of his
appUcation to reading; a fourth, because of the length of his
watches. A terrible evil, which strives to sully man, not
only in works of the world, but even in his virtues."1
There is here a rather skilful observation of human nature,
and a tolerable art in expressing the results.
The title of the second work of this class is De Ratione
Anima (of the nature of the soul), and it is addressed to Gun-
drade, sister of Adalhard, and surnamed Eulalia, one of the
women who were present at the lectures of Alcuin in the
school of the palace. It is a more purely philosophical at
tempt than the preceding, and in which, under all its forms,
the idea of the unity of the soul is expressed with subtlety
and energy.
" The soul," says he, " bears divers names according to the
nature of its operations: inasmuch as it lives and makes live,
it is the soul (anima); inasmuch as it contemplates, it is the
spirit (spiritvs); inasmuch as it feels, it is sentiment (sensus);
since it reflects, it is thought (animus); as it comprehends,
inteUigence (meus); inasmuch as it discerns, reason (ratio);
as it consents, will (voluntas) ; as it recollects, memory
(memoria). But these things are not divided in substance
as in name, for all this is the soul, and one soul only."2
And elsewhere:
" The soul, in its very nature, has an image, as it were,
of the Holy Trinity, for it has intellect, will, and memory.
The soul, which is also called the mind, the life, the sub-
' Chap. 34, vol. ii. p. 144. ¦ Vol. ii. p. 149.

252 HISTORY OF
stance which includes these three faculties within itself, is
one; these three faculties do not constitute three lives, but
one life; not three minds, but one mind; not three sub
stances, but one substance. When we give to the soul
the names of mind, life, or substance, we regard it in
itself; but when we call it the memory, the intellect, or the
will, we consider it in its relation to something. These three
faculties make but one. inasmuch as the life, the mind, the
substance, form one. They make three, inasmuch as they are
considered in their external relations; for the memory is the
recollection of something; the intellect is the understanding
of something; the will is the will of something, and in this
they are distinguished. And still there is in these three
faculties a certain unity. I think that I think, that I wUl,
and that I remember; I will to think, and to recoUect, and to
will; I remember that I have thought and walled, and that I
have remembered, and thus these three faculties are combined
in one."1
In other respects, there are in this treatise nothing but
scattered ideas, and no systematic character.
After these two moral essays, come four treatises; 1. On
grammar; 2. On orthography: 3. On rhetoric; 4. On logic,
which I shall only mention; for to make known the contents
and merits of them would render it necessary to enter too
far into detaU. The two last are in the form of a dialogue
between Alcuin and Charlemagne, the object of which is
evidently to instruct Charlemagne in the methods of the
ancient sophists and rhetoricians, especiaUy in what concerns
logic and judicial eloquence.
' 3. The historical works of Alcuin are of little importance;
they are confined to four lives of the saints, Saint Waast,
Saint Martin, Saint Eiquier, and Saint Willibrod. The lat
ter, however, contains some rather curious details for a
history of manners. It is said that Alcuin wrote a history
of Charlemagne, in particular of his wars with the Saxons,
but this, if it ever existed, is now lost.
4. His poetical works, although numerous, are also but of
little value; there are two hundred and eighty pieces of verse,
upon all kinds of subjects, most of them upon the incidents
of the day. The principal is a poem upon the bishops and
' Vol. ii. p. 147.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 2o3
saints of the church of York; it is worth reading, as an
indication of the inteUectual state of the age.
I regret that I am unable to enter more fully into these
monuments of a mind so active and distinguished. Some
will, perhaps, think I have dwelt too long upon them as it is:
for myself, I fear that I have scarcely thrown a glance at them ;
and if we were to make a profound study of them, we should
unquestionably find both profit and pleasure in it: but we must
restrict ourselves. To sum up, the following seems to me to
be the general character, the intellectual physiognomy of
Alcuin and of his works. He is a theologian by profession, the
atmosphere in which he lived, in which the public to whom
he addresses himself Uved, is essentially theological; and yet
the theological spirit does not reign alone in him, his works
and his thoughts also tend towards philosophy and ancient
Uterature; it is that which he also delights in studying, teach
ing, and which he wished to revive. Saint Jerome and
Saint Augustin are very familiar to him; but Pythagoras,
Aristotle, Aristippus, Diogenes, Plato, Homer, Virgil, Seneca,
Pliny, also occur to his memory. The greater part of his
writings are theological; but mathematics, astronomy, logic,
rhetoric, habitually occupy him. He is a monk, a deacon,
the Ught of the contemporaneous church; but he is at the
same time a scholar, a classical man of letters. In him, at
length, commenced the alliance of these two elements of which
the modern mind had so long borne the incoherent impress,
antiquity, and the church, the admiration, the taste, the regret,
shaU I caU it, for pagan Uterature, and the sincerity of Chris
tian faith, the zeal to sound its mysteries, and to defend its
power.

254 HISTORY Off

TWENTY-THIED LECTUEE.

Classification of celebrated men of the age of Charlemagne : 1 Leidrade,
archbishop of Lyons — His letter to Charlemagne upon what he has done
in his diocese — 2. Theodulph, archbishop of Orleans — His measures for
the instruction of the people — His poem entitled Exhortation to Judges~
3. Smaragde, abbot of Saint Michael — His treatise of morality for kings,
entitled Via Regia — 4. Eginhard — -His alleged marriage with a
daughter of Charlemagne — Their relations — Of what happened after the
death of this prince — His letters — His Life of Charlemagne — Ee-
capitulation.
When I placed before you the view of the celebrated men
of the age of Charlemagne, I comprehended therein those
who died and those who were born in his reign, his contempo
raries, properly so called, and those who long survived him;
the former discovered, as it were, and employed by him, the
second, formed under his influence: an important distinction
if we would justly estimate an epoch and the influence of. a
man. A sovereign arrives at power in the midst of circum
stances, and under the influence of causes, anterior to, and
independent of his own will; and which have planted around
distinguished men; he gathers them, but he has not made
them: his merit consists in knowing how to recognise them,
to accept them, to make use of them; but they are not the
result of his action; we must not judge of this by them. We
have in modern times a striking example of this distinction.
Most of the men who constituted the glory of the reign of
Louis XIV. were formed entirely independently of him,
while the religious struggles stiU resounded in France,
amidst the trpubles of the Fronde, and in a liberty which
soon vanished. The true fruit of the influence of Louis

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 255
XIV. belongs to the last period of his reign; it is the man
ners and the men of that time which are necessary to be
considered in order to judge properly of the effects of his
government, and the direction which it impressed upon mind.
The distinction is great, and should be well observed.
We shall find no such difference among the men whom
Charlemagne found, and those who were formed under him.
The latter were in no way inferior to their predecessors, but
they were different, and the truth of the distinction which I
have pointed out is equaUy evident.
I spoke in our last lecture of the chief, and, without
contradiction, the most distinguished cotemporary of Charle
magne. The men of whom I am about to speak, at least
almost all of them, belong to the same epoch, to the same
class; like Alcuin, they were not formed by Charlemagne;
he discovered and made use of them. Two among them,
Leidrade and Theodolf, were, like Alcuin, foreigners; and
without Charlemagne, would probably never have appeared
in Frankish Gaul.
I. Leidrade was born in the province which the Eomans
caUed Norica, situated on the confines of Italy and Germany.
He was first attached to Arnon, bishop of Salzburg, and made
himself distinguished at an early age .by his mind and know
ledge. Charlemagne first engaged him as a librarian, and
employed him in various missions. The missi dominici, the
principal instruments, as you have seen, of his government,
were almost all men of this kind, whom he had attracted
from all parts, and whom he habitually retained near him,
in order to send them, according to need, to inspect some
portion of his states, until, sooner or later, he separated from
them, conferring upon them some great ecclesiastical or civil
charge. It thus happened to Leidrade. After numerous
missions, the last of which, in Southern Gaul, prevented hiir^
for some time from being consecrated, he was nominated, in
798, archbishop of Lyons. The church of Lyons had always
been one of the most considerable of the south of Gaul, and,
at the same time, one of those in which disorder had been the
greatest, and calculated to give the greatest trouble to repair.
It was on this ground, and to satisfy this want, that Charle
magne confided it to Leidrade. A curious monument has
come down to us of what the new archbishop did in his

2f)6 HIST0KJ OF
diocese. This is a letter in which he himself gives a detailed
account to Charlemagne of his labours and their results. I
will read it entire, despite its emphatic prolixities. It is
necessary to bear with them in order to form a true idea of
the turn of mind of the age, and the relations of an archbishop
with the sovereign. The date of this letter is not exactly
known, but it probably belongs to the early years of the ninth
century. " To Charles the Great, Emperor.
"To the powerful Charles, emperor, Leidrade, bishop of
Lyons, health. Our lord, perpetual and sacred emperor, I
supplicate the clemency of your highness, to hear read this
short epistle with a favourable countenance, so that your pious
prudence may know what it contains, and that your noble
clemency may know the purport of my request. You deigned
awhile ago to entrust the government of the church of Lyons to
me, the most infirm of your servants, incapable and unworthy
of that charge. But since you treat men far less according to
their merit, than according to your accustomed bounty, you
have acted with me as it has pleased your ineffable piety; and
without any title thereto on my part, you have been pleased
to charge me with the care of this church, and to act in such
a manner that the abuses which have been committed in it
may be for the future reformed and avoided. Many things
were wanting to this church, both externally and internally,
as much in what concerns the holy offices, as for the edifices
and other ecclesiastical wants. Listen, therefore, to what I,
your very humble servant, have effected in it, since my
arrival, with God's aid and yours. The all powerful Lord,
who sees into consciences, is my witness, that I do not expose
these things in order to draw profit therefrom, and that I have
in no way arranged, and communicate this to you in order to
procure any advantage to myself, but because I expect
each day to leave this hfe, that because of my infirmities
I think myself very near death. I tell you these things to the
end that, having attained your benign ear, and being weighed
with indulgence, if you think that they have been effected
suitably, and according to your will, they may not, after my
death, be allowed to languish and perish.
" When, according to your order, I had taken possession of
this church, I acted with all my power, with all the strength of

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 257
my weakness to bring the ecclesiastical offices to the point at
which, with the grace of God, they have nearly arrived. It
pleased your piety to grant at my request the restitution of the
revenues which formerly belonged to the church of Lyons; by
means of which, with God's grace and yours, there has been
established in the said church, a psalmody, where is followed,
as far as we are able, the ceremonies of the sacred palace, in
all that the divine office requires. I have schools of singers,
many of whom are already sufficiently instructed to be able to
teach others. Moreover, I have schools of readers, who not
only acquit themselves of their functions in the church, but
who, by meditation on the holy scriptures, assure themselves
the fruits of understanding of spiritual things. Some can
explain the spiritual sense of the Evangelists ; others have
understanding of the prophecies; others, of the books of Solo
mon, the Psalms, and even Job. I have also done in this
church what lay in my power, as to copying books. I have
likewise procured clothing for the priests, and what was ne
cessary for the offices. I have omitted nothing which lay in
my power for the restoration of the churches, so that I have
roofed the great church of this town, dedicated to Saint John
the Baptist, and I have reconstructed a portion of the walls;
I have also repaired the roof of the church of Saint Etienne;
I have rebuilt the church of Saint Nizier, and that of Saint
Mary, without counting the monasteries and episcopal
houses, of which one in particular was almost destroyed, and
which I have repaired and re-roofed. I have also constructed
another with a high platform. This I have prepared for you,
in order that if you come into these parts you may be
received there. For the priests, I have constructed a cloister
in which they now live all united in one edifice. I have also
repaired other churches in this diocese, one of them dedicated
to Saint Eulalia, where there is a nunnery dedicated to Saint
George; I have had it re-roofed, and part of the waUs built
up from the foundations; another house in honour of Saint
Paul has also been re-roofed. I have entirely repaired the
church and house of a nunnery dedicated to Saint Peter, where
rests the body of Saint Annemond, martyr, and which was
founded by that holy bishop himself. Thirty-two virgins of
the Lord now live there under the monastic rule. I have also
repaired, by renewing the roof and part of the walls, the royal
monastery of I'lsleBarbc; ninety monks now live there under
VOL. II. s

258 HISTORY 01?
a regular monastic rule. We have given to its abbot the
power to bind and unbind ; the same as his predecessors had
— Ambrose, Maximian, Licinius, illustrious men who have
governed this place, and which Euchere, Loup, Genest, and
the other bishops of Lyons, when they were absent and could
not fulfil in person, delegated, in order to take care that the
catholic faith was believed with sincerity, and that heretical
feuds did not abound.
" These abbots were even charged, if the church of Lyons
was without its chief, to serve it in aU things as guides and
counsellors, until, with the grace of God, it was provided with
a worthy pastor. We have likewise given this power to their
successors. Above all things, we have ordered that the decrees
of the ancient kings of France should be executed, to the end
that, as it was by them ordained in their statutes respecting
sales and augmentations, these monks may for ever possess
without dispute, that which they have at present, that which
by the grace of God they may one day acquire."1
I shaU spare all commentary: the letter is sufficiently detailed
to show what an archbishop did at that time, who wished to
re-establish religion, society, and learning, in his diocese.
Leidrade passed his life in works of this kind ; we find him
quitting his church but twice to go into Spain, by the order of
Charlemagne, to discuss and preach against the heresy of the
Adoptians. His eloquence, it is said, gainedfor him there brilliant
triumphs, and thousands of heretics were converted by him,
However this may have been, in 814, almost immediately after
the death of Charlemagne, whether from sorrow or prudence,
he resigned his bishopric, and shut himself up in the monas
tery of Saint Medard at Soissons. He was taken thence for
awhile, by Louis le Debonnaire, who charged him with re
establishing order in the church of Macon. No chronicler
pronounces his name after this epoch, and with the exception
of the letter which I have just read, there only remain of
his writings two or three short and very insignificant theolo
gical pieces.
II. We are better acquainted with a friend of Leidrade, his
companion in the great mission entrusted to him by Charle
magne, in Narbonnese Gaul; I mean Theodulf, bishop of
> Sonet, Agobardi Opera, vol. ii. p. 125 — 129, ed. of Baluze, Paris, 1605.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 259
Orleans. Like Alcuin and Leidrade, he was a foreigner, a
Goth by nation, and an Italian by birth. Charlemagne sent
for him, it is unknown at what epoch; we find him established
in Gaul in 781, and between 786 and 796, he was bishop of
Orleans. He took especial care to re-establish schools in his
diocese. We have by him, concerning the duties of priests,
a capitulary in forty-one articles, which displays rather
elevated views of order and morality, and contains, among
others, the two following articles:
" IT any priest wishes to send his nephew or any other of his
relations to school, we aUow him to be sent to the church of
Saint Croix, or to the monastery of Saint Aignan, or of
Saint Benedict, or of Saint Lifard, or to any other monastery
confided to our government.
" Let priests hold schools in viUages and districts, and if
any of the faithful wish to confide their young children to
them, in order to have them study letters, let them not refuse
to receive and to instruct them; but, on the contrary, teach
them in perfect charity, remembering that it is written:
' And they that be wise, shaU shine as the brightness of the
firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the
stars for ever and ever.' l And while instructing children,
let them exact no price therefore, and receive nothing, except
when the parents shaU offer it them, willingly, and out of
affection."2 This last article is almost the only monument of this epoch
which positively institutes a teaching destined for others than
priests. AU the measures, whether of Alcuin, or of Charle
magne, which I have hitherto spoken of, have the literary
education of priests for their object; here are included the
faithful in general, the people; and not only the people of
towns, but of the country districts, which were far more
neglected as regards instruction. There is nothing to_ show
us the results of the recommendations of Theodulf in his
diocese, and they were probably almost nuU; but the attempt
deserves remark.
About the year 798, Theodulf was sent by Charlemagne,
with Leidrade, into the two Narbonnese, to observe and
reform the administration of those provinces. On his return
s Daniel, xii. 3. 2 Theod. cap. § 19, 20,
S2

260 HISTORY OF
he composed a poem of 956 verses, entitled, Parmnesis al
Judices (Exhortation to Judges), and destined to instruct
magistrates in their duties in such missions. The course of
the work is simple. After a religious preamble, which ter
minates with an eulogy on Charlemagne, Theodulf describes
the route foUowed by Leidrade and himseff, and the principal
towns through which they passed, Vienne, Orange, Avignon,
Nimes, Agde, Beziers, Narbonne, Carcassonne, Aries,
Marseilles, and Aix. To this enumeration succeeds a view
of the dangers which assail the probity of magistrates, and of
all the attempts which were made to corrupt Leidrade and
himself. Then come his exhortations to the judges, exhorta
tions over which he takes pleasure in dwelling at length,
as a man who has seen the evil, and as a bishop accustomed
to give everything the form of a sermon. The poem abruptly
finishes with this general exhortation to the great men of the
world :
" Mortal, always be prepared to treat mortals with mild
ness; the law of nature is the same for them and for thee.
However different may be thy course here below, thou and
they start from the same point; it is to the same point that
you tend. One sacred spring runs for them as for thee, and
throws upon them, as upon thee, the same paternal blot. . . .
The Author of life died for them as weU as for thee, and he
will extend his gifts to each according to his merits. Let us
here fold the sails of my book, and let the anchor retain my
ship on this shore." 1
There is, in all this, you see, very Uttle invention or art:
but, as an historical and moral monument, the poem is devoid
neither of merit nor interest. The most curious passage, in
my opinion, is that where Theodulf describes all the attempts
at corruption which he had to resist:
" A large crowd," says he,2 " pressed around us, of both
sexes and of every age: the child, the old man, the young
man, the young woman, the girl, the boy, he who had
attained his majority, he who had reached puberty, the old
woman, the full grown man, the married woman, she who,
1 Parmneris ad Judices, v. 947 — 956, in the Opera Varia of P. Gernund)
vol. ii. p 1046.
* Ibid. v. 163—290; vol. ii. p. 1032—1034,

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE, 261
was still a minor. But why did I stay? The entire nation
earnestly promise us gifts, and think that at that price what
ever they cfesire is as good as done. This is the machine by
which all endeavour to throw down the waU of the soul, the
battering-ram with which they wish to strike in order to
seize it. Here one offered me crystals and precious stones
of the east, if I would make him master of the domains of
another; a second brings me a quantity of gold money, im
pressed with the tongue and character of the Arabians, or
upon whose brilliantly white silver surface a Latin style has
engraved words, with which he wished to acquire lands, fields,
and houses; another secretly called one of our servants, and
said to him with a low voice the foUowing words, which were
to be repeated to me: ' I possess a vase remarkable for its
chasing and its antiquity; it is of a pure metal and of
considerable weight; on it is engraved the history of the
crimes of Cacus, the faces of the shepherds bruised by the
blows from clubs of iron, and soiled with blood, the signs of
his numerous robberies, a field inundated with the blood of
men and herds; we see Hercules who in fury breaks the
bones of the son of Vulcan, and the latter with his ferocious
mouth vomiting the terrible fires of his father; but Alcides
presses his knee upon the stomach of Cacus, his sides with his
feet, and with his club shatters his face and throat, whence
issue torrents of smoke. You next see Alcides bringing out
of the cavern the stolen oxen, which seem to fear being dragged
a second time backward. All this is on the hollow part of
the vase, with a circle around it; the other side, covered with
smaller designs, shows the child of Tyrinthus strangling the
two serpents, and his ten famous labours are there placed in
their order. But frequent use has so polished the exterior,
that, effaced by time, the figures which represent Hercules, the
river Chalydon and Nessus fighting for thy beauty, Dejanira,
have almost completely disappeared. We see also the fatal
mantle, poisoned with the blood of Nessus, and the horrible
fate of the unhappy Lychas, and Anteus, who could not be
conquered or fought upon earth, like other mortals, strangled
in the formidable arms of Hercules. This, then, will I offer
to the lord (for he even called me lord), if he will favour my
wishes. There is a great number of men, women, young
people, children of both sexes, to whom my father and mother

262 HISTORY OF
have granted the honour or liberty, and this numerous group
find themselves enfranchised; but, by altering their charterc,
we shall enjoy, thy master the possession of this antique vase;
I, of all this people; and thou, of my gifts.' "
" Another says : ' I have mantles died in various colours,
which came, as I believe, from the ferocious Arabians. We
see there the calf following its mother, and the heifer the
bull, the colour of the calf and that of the heifer exact to
nature, as are those of the bull and the c'ow. See how bril
liant they are, how pure are the colours, and with what art
the larger parts are joined to the smaller. I have a quarrel
with some one about some beautiful herds, and I offer on this
occasion a fitting present, since I offer buU for bull, cow for
cow, ox for ox.'
" Here one promises me beautiful cups, if by that means he
can obtain what I ought not to give him; the inside of one
of them gilt, the outside black, the colour of the silver
having the dye of sulphur. Another says: 'I have cloths fit
to cover splendid beds and beautiful vases; I will give them if
my desires are granted.' ' A well watered estate, ornamented
with vines, olives, meadows, and gardens, was left by my
father,' says one; "my brothers and sisters claim from me a
share, but I wish to possess it without partition; I shall
obtain the accomplishment of this wish, if it find favour be
fore thee; and if thou acceptest what I give thee, I shall
reckon upon thy giving me that which I request.' One
wishes to seize the house of his parent, another his estates;
of these two, one had already taken, the other wished to take
what did not belong to him; both burned with the desire, that
to keep, this to acquire: one offered me a sword and casque,
the other bucklers; one brother is in possession of the inheri
tance of his father, his brother likewise lays claim to it; one
offers me mules, the other horses.
" Thus do the rich act; the poor are not less pressing, and
the will to give is not more wanting. With various means, the
conduct is alike: as the great offer great presents, the lower
offer small. Here behold some who display prepared skins
which take their name from thee, Cordova ; one brings white,
the other, red ; this offers fine linen, that woollen stuffs, to
cover my head, my feet, or my hands. Such a one offers
as a gift one of those cloths which are used to wash, with a

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 263
little water, our face and hands ; others tiring *>oxes.
There was even one, who, with an air of triumph, pre
sented round wax candles. How can we enumerate al]
these things ? all were confident in their gifts, and no one
supposed that he could obtain anything without presents. Oh
wicked pest spread over all places! oh, crime, oh, fury! oh,
vice, worthy of horror, which may boast of its having sub
dued the universe ! nowhere is there wanting people who
give and people who receive wrongfully. They hastened to
gain me ; and they would not have thought to find me sus
ceptible of corruption, if they had not found my predecessors
susceptible. No one seeks wild boars in the water, fish in the
forest, a wood house in the sea, water in fire. . . . They
expect to find each thing where they have been accustomed to
find it, and mortals think that what has happened wiU always
happen. When they see that the darts of their words are
broken, and that the arms of their promises in no degree avail
them, when they see that I remain firm as a fortress after an
ineffectual siege, and that I do not allow myself to be deceived
by any of their artifices, every one forthwith occupies himself
only with his own business; every one receives what he is
entitled to, and no more; thus, a man who sees closed up a
passage, through which he has been accustomed to go for the
purposes of robbery, turns aside, and proceeds hopelessly else
where. But, in order not to show myself deficient in mode
ration and discreet judgment, to manifest that I acted openly
and frankly, to guard against my conduct exciting too much
astonishment by its entire novelty, and that the so recent evil
might not bring- good into hatred, I did not refuse that which
was offered to me by real benevolence, by that noble feeling
which, joining souls together, causes them readily to take and
receive from each other. I accepted with thanks the little
presents made me, not by the hand of anger, but by that of
friendship — fruit,. vegetables, eggs, wine, bread, hay. I took
the young fowls, and birds, smaller in size than they, but good
to eat. Happy the virtue which is tempered, adorned, and
maintained by discretion, the nurse of all virtues."
The invasions and their disasters, so often renewed, had not
destroyed, as you see, in the cities of southern Gaul, all the
wealth, and there still remained abundance wherewith to tempt
the avidity of magistrates.

264 HISTORY OF
Independently of these details concerning the state of society,
the poem of Theodulph is remarkable for the gentleness of the
sentiments which pervade it; one is astonished to find, amidst
barbarous disorders and tyrannies, that delicate goodness which
seems to belong only to times of great civilization and peace,
He exhorts the judges to treat considerately aU who present
themselves before them :
" If one," says he, " has lost his father, another his mother,
another her husband, take particular care with their cause; be
their protector, their advocate; be to the one her husband, to
the other his mother. If any ever come to thee weak, infirm,
or ill, infantine, or aged, bear towards him a charitable help;
cause him who cannot stand erect, to sit; take by the hand
him who cannot raise himself; sustain and encourage him
./hose heart, voice, hand, or legs, are about to fail him; with
thy words raise him who is cast down; appease him who is
irritated; give strength to him who trembles, recal to order
him who is excited."1
I will cite the original text of this passage; the style,
although very faulty, is of a remarkable conciseness and
energy :
" Qui patre senue matre orbatnr, vel si qua marito
Istorum causas sit tua cura sequi
Horum causiloquus, horum tutela maneto ;
Pars heec te matrem noverit, ilia virum,
Debilis, invalidus, puer, aeger, anusve, senexve,
Si veniant, fer opem his miserando piam ;
Fac sedeat qui stare nequit, qui surgere prende ;
Cui cor, voxque tremit, pesque, manusque jirva ;
Dejectum verbis releva, sedato minacem ;
Qui timet, huic vires, qui furit, adde metum."
Independently of this poem, there are seventy-one various
pieces of Theodulph remaining, divided into five books, but
they are of little value. Two small theological treatises, and
some fragments of sermons by him have also been collected.
After the death of Charlemagne, Louis le Debonnaire still
employed Theodulph in various missions; but in 817, com
promised in the conspiracy of Bernard, king of Italy, against
1 Verse 621.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 2G5
the emperor his uncle, he was exiled from his diocese, and
banished to the town of Angers, where he died in 821.
III. Smaragde, abbot of Saint Mihiel, in the diocese of
Verdun, was a man of the same character and the same posi
tion as the two bishops of whom I have just spoken. It is
neither known in what country he was born, nor at what epoch
Charlemagne took him into his service ; but we find him
abbot of Saint Mihiel before 805, and employed, in 809, in
various negotiations with Eome. In the diocese of Verdun
he took particular care of schools, and in the schools with the
teaching of grammar. To expound and discuss the pre
cepts of Donatus, a grammarian of the fourteenth century,
who was preceptor of Saint Jerome, Smaragde wrote a large
Latin grammar, which was celebrated in his time, and of
which many manuscripts still exist. It has never been
printed. We have two other works by him: the first, entitled
Via Regia, is a treatise of morality for the use of princes,
divided into thirty-two chapters, and addressed either to
Charlemagne, or to Louis le Debonnaire; it is not exactly
known which. The ideas are wise and benevolent, but com
mon ; one fact alone merits remark : this is the far more
moral than religious character of the work. The church
occupies but little place therein, and, with the exception of
some general recommendations, the author only speaks of it
in a cursory manner, and to exhort the prince to watch over
it. If the book was addressed to Louis le Debonnaire, the
emperor was far more of a monk than the abbot of Saint
Mihiel. The second work of Smaragde, entitled the Diadem of the
Monks, is purely religious, and has no other object but that
of giving to the monks advice on the means of sustaining or
reanimating their fervour. The abbot of Saint Mihiel took
an active part, among others, in the council of Aix-la-Chapelle
in 817, in all measures for the reform of monastic orders. He
died, it would appear, shortly after 819.
These were the most remarkable men among priests whom
Charlemagne employed. Their origin is clear; their know
ledge made their fortune; it was in their character of literary
men that Charlemagne distinguished them, and called them
near him. By the side of these, we meet men of another
nature, of another origin; politicians, military men, who

266 HISTORY OF
acquired a taste for learning, and ended by devoting them
selves to it, after having been engaged at first in an entirely
different career. Charlemagne employed literary men in
affairs of state, and inspired statesmen with an esteem for
letters. Among these last, three especially merit our atten
tion, all three unconnected in the early part of their life, both
with the church and with learning, soldiers or counsellors of
Charlemagne, occupied in the business of civil government,
taking part in warlike expeditions, and who, however, all
three ended by study and by a religious Ufe, and have left us
monuments of their intellectual activity. These are Angil-
bert, Saint Benedict d' Aniane, and Eginhard.
I shall merely mention the names of the first two: they
wrote but very little; of Angilbert we have only some
poems, and some documents concerning the abbey of Saint
Eiquier, to which he retired; and when we shall especially
occupy ourselves with the history of the church at this epoch,
we shall again find Saint Benedict d' Aniane, who, after having
led a life of war in his youth, became the second reformer of
monastic orders. Eginhard alone fills an important place in
the literature of this time, and we shall at present occupy
ourselves with him.
He was of the Frankish race, born, perhaps, beyond the
Ehine, and calls himself " a barbarian, but little versed in the
language of-the Eomans." 1 Charlemagne took him into his
service while very young, caused him to be brought up with
his children in that school of the palace of which Alcuin was
the head; and when Eginhard arrived at the age of manhood,
he not only made him superintendent of all those works
which we in the present day call public works, roads, canals,
buildings of all kinds, but his counciUor and private secretary.
Traditions go further; they attribute to Eginhard the honour
of having married Emma, the daughter of Charlemagne; and
the adventure which they say led to this marriage is one of
the most popular traditions of our old history. Here it is as
we have it in the chronicle of the monastery of Lauresheira,2
1 Preface to his Life of Charlemagne, in my Collection, vol. iii. p. 121-
2 Lauresheim, or Lorch, in the diocese of Worms, and four leagues froM
Heidelberg. This chronicle extends from the year 763 or 764, the period
of the foundation of the monastery to the year 1179,

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 2G7
the only ancient monument whith makes any mention
of it:"Eginhard, arch-chaplain and secretary of the emperor,
Charles, acquitted himself very honourably of his office in the
court of the king, was welcomed by all, and especially loved
with very lively ardour by the daughter of the emperor, her
self named Emma, and who was promised to the king of the
Greeks; each day love increased between them; fear re
strained them, and, out of apprehension of the royal displea
sure, they dared not incur the grave danger of seeing each
other. But love, ever on the alert, conquered everything: at
last this excellent young man, burning with irremediable fire,
and not daring to address himself through a messenger to the
ear of the princess, suddenly took confidence in himself, and
secretly, in the middle of the night, repaired to where she
lodged. Having knocked softly, and as if to speak with the
young girl by order of the king, he obtained permission to enter,
and then alone with her, they yielded to the tender impulses
of love. But when at the approach of the light of day, he
wished to return through the last shadows of night, to the
place whence he came, he perceived that a great deal of snow
had suddenly fallen, and dared not go out, for fear that the
traces of a man's feet should betray his secret. They were.
both full of anguish at what they had done, and seized with
fear, remained within ; at length, as in that trouble, they de
liberated upon what to do, the charming young girl, whom
love rendered daring, gave her advice, and said that, stooping
she would take him on her shoulders, that she would carry
him before day close to his dwelling, and that having depo
sited him there, she would return, carefully following the
same steps.
" Now, the emperor, by the Divine will, as it is believed,
had passed the night without sleep, and rising before day, was
looking from the tower of his palace. He saw his daughter
walking slowly, and with steps tottering under the weight
which she bore, and when she had deposited it in a conve
nient place, quickly retracing her steps. After having long
looked at them, the emperor, seized at once with admiration
and grief, but thinking that it could not have happened thus
without a providential interposition, restrained himself, and
preserved silence upon what he had seen.

268 HISTORY OF
" In th 3 meantime, Eginhard, tormented with what he had
done, and quite sure, in some way or other, the thing could
not long remain unknown to the king, his lord, at last resolved
in his anguish to seek the emperor, and on his knees demand
a mission of him, saying that his services, already great and
numerous, had received no suitable recompence. At these
words, the king discovering nothing of what he knew, held
silence for some time, and then assuring Eginhard that he
would shortly give him an answer, he named a day for doing
so. He immediately convoked his councillors,* the chief of the
kingdom, and his other familiar adherents, ordering them to
repair to him. This magnificent assembly of various lords
thus met, he commenced, saying that the imperial majesty had
been insolently outraged by the guilty love of his daughter for
his secretary, and that he was greatly troubled at it. Those pre
sent remaining struck with stupor, and some of them still ap
pearing to doubt, the thing was so unheard of and daring, the
king satisfied them by evidence, recounting matters exactly
as he had seen them with his own eyes, and asked them their
advice upon the subject. They pronounced various sentences
against the presumptuous author of the deed; some wished
him to be punished with chastisement hitherto without ex
ample, others that he should be exiled, others again that he
should be subjected to such or such a penalty, each speaking
according to the sentiment which animated him. Some, how
ever, as much more benevolent as they were more wise, after
having deliberated among themselves, earnestly implored the
king to examine this affair himself, and to decide according
to the wisdom which he had received from God. When the
king had well observed the affection which each bore him,
and amongst the various opinions offered had selected that
which he had determined to foUow, he spoke thus to them;
' You know that men are subject to various accidents, and that
it often happens that things which commence with a misfor
tune have a more favourable issue; we must not grieve for
this affair, which, by its novelty and gravity, has surpassed
our foresight, but far rather piously seek for and respect the
intentions of Providence, who is never deceived, and who
knows how to turn evil to good. I shall not therefore sub
ject my secretary, for this deplorable affair, to a chastisement
which wUl increase instead of effacing the dishonour of my

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 269
daughter. I think that it is more wise, and that it better lie-
comes the dignity of our empire, to pardon their youth, and
unite them in legitimate marriage, and thus give to their
disgraceful fault a colour of honour.' Having listened to this
advice of the king, aU loudly rejoiced, and loaded with praises
the grandeur and benevolence of his soul. Eginhard was
ordered to enter; the king saluting him as had been resolved,
said to him with a tranquil countenance : ' You have laid be
fore us your complaints that our royal munificence has not
worthily rewarded your services. To speak truly, it is your
own negligence which should be accused, for despite so many
and so great affairs of which I alone have borne the bur
den, if I had known anything of your desire, I would
have accorded to your services the honours which are due
to them. Not to detain you with a long discourse, I
shaU, however, put an end to your complaints by a magnifi
cent gift; as I wish always to see you faithful to me as here
tofore, and attached to my person, I wiU give you my
daughter in marriage, your bearer, she who, girding up her
robe, has shown herself so docile in carrying you.' Imme
diately, according to the orders of the king, and amidst a
numerous suite, his daughter entered, her face covered with
a charming blush, and the father put her hands within the
hands of Eginhard, with a rich dowry, many domains, much
gold and silver, and other valuable property. After the death of
his father, the most pious emperor Louis likewise gave Egin
hard the domain of Michlenstadt and that of Miihlenheim,
which is now caUed Seligestadt."1
This is the graceful narrative upon which all the tales, all
the poems, all the dramas of which this adventure has been
the subject, are founded. The chronicler wrote at an epoch
near to the event in an abbey which Eginhard endowed, and
the monks of which might have been well acquainted with the
Incidents of his life. StiU this is the only monument of the
time in which the event is stated. Moreover, it seems denied
by the silence of Eginhard himself, and by some passages in
his Life of Charlemagne. Among the children of this prince,
v.'hose names he enumerates, we do not find Emma or Imma:
he names seven boys and eight girls, whom Charlemagne had
1 Recueil des Historiens des Gaules et de la France, vol. v. p. 383,

270 HISTORY OF
by his wives or his mistresses; none of his daughters is called
Imma;1 and in none of the other lists which have come down
to us of the history of Charlemagne do we meet with this
name. Moreover, we read in the Life of Charlemagne :
'' His daughters were very beautiful, and he passionately
loved them. Accordingly, to the astonishment of all, he
would never consent to any of them ever marrying either to
his own people, or to a foreigner; he kept them all about him,
and with him, until his death, saying that he could not
deprive himself of their society. Although happy in aU else,
he experienced the malignity of fortune with regard to his
daughters ; but he concealed his vexation, and conducted
himself as if they had never given rise to injurious suspicions,
and as if no reports went about concerning them."2
If the adventure which I have just read were true, how could
such a passage be found in the work of Eginhard? How
would he himself have spoken of the report which went
abroad concerning the conduct of the daughters of Charle
magne, when his own wife would have been the principal
object of them? It is impossible to resolve this little histo
rical problem; but, if I must give an opinion, I should strongly
doubt the recital of the chronicle of Lauresheim.
However this may be, the affection of Charlemagne for his
secretary was great, and they lived together in close intimacy
It was especiaUy out of gratitude that Eginhard wrote the life
of the emperor.
" Another motive," says he, " which seems to me not
unreasonable, would moreover suffice in deciding me to com
pose this work: brought up by this monarch, from the time
1 According to Eginhard, Charlemagne had: —
1. By Hildegai-de, three sons, Charles, Pepin, Louis ; three daugh
ters, Kotmde, Bertha, Gisla.
2. By Fastrade, two daughters, Thebrade, Hildrade.
3. By a concubine, ^Himiltrude,) one daughter, Eothaide.
4. By Mathalgarde, (a concubine,) one daughter, Eothilde.
5. By Gersuinthe (id.) one daughter, Adelrude.
6. By Regina, (id.) two sons, Drogon, Hugo.
7. By Adalinde (id.) one son, Theodoric.
8. By a concubine, one son, Pepin. — In all, seven sons and eight
daughters. — Life of Charlemagne, p. 142 — 145.
• Life of dhorlemagne, p. 145

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 2"i 1
Ivhen I began to be admitted to his court, I lived with lum
and his children in constant friendship, which imposed upon
me after his death, as during his life, aU the ties of gratitude
towards him. People would therefore be j istly authorised
to believe and declare me to be an ingrate if I retained no
recollection of the benefits heaped upon me, and should say not
a word of the high and magnificent actions of a prince who
has acquired so many titles to my gratitude, and if I were to
consent that his life should remain the same as if he had never
existed, without, a written memorial, and without the tribute
of eulogy which is his due."1
Charlemagne never separated himself from his secretary ;
he did not employ him in any extraordinary missions: once
only, in 806, he sent him to Eome to get his will confirmed
by the pope; with this exception, he constantly kept him
near him.
After the death of Charlemagne, Eginhard enjoyed the
same favour with Louis le Debonnaire; but he soon became
fuU of a distaste for that prince, and only desired to retire
from the court. Among the sixty-three of his letters which
have come down to us, many are curious monuments of the
situation and despondency of the companions of Charlemagne,
when they found themselves separated from that prince, and
forced to live under the deplorable government of his son.
" I do not ask thee," writes Eginhard to one of his friends,
" to write me anything concerning the affairs of the palace,
for nothing done there can please me to know: I only desire
to learn where my friends are, and what they do, if there
remain there any of them but thou."2
Elsewhere he conjures one of the officers of the palace to
excuse him to the emperor for not coming to court:
"The queen, in quitting Aix, ordered me to rejoin her at
Compiegne, for I could not set out with her. To obey her
orders, I proceeded with great difficulty, and in ten days, to
Valenciennes. Thence, not in a state to mount my horse, I
came by water to Saint Bavon. But I am alternately
attacked with pains in the kidneys, and with relaxed bowels,
Preface to the Life of Charlemagne, by Egiuhard, vol. iii. p. 120, in
my CoUection.
• Letter 47, in the Becuell des Historiens de France, vol. ii. p. 382.

??*? HISTORY OF
in such a manner that since my departure from Aix I have
not passed a single day without suffering from one or other of
these evils. I am likewise struck with that which cast me down
last year, with a continual numbness in the right thigh, and
an almost intolerable pain in the liver. Amidst these suffer
ings, I had a very sad life, and almost devoid of every enjoy
ment; but what most afflicts me is, that I fear I shall not die
where I wish, and that I shall have to occupy myself with some
thing other than the service of the holy martyrs of Christ."1
Domestic troubles were soon combined with political
annoyances. Whether or not she was a daughter of Charle
magne, Eginhard had married an Imma, of whom he speaks
several times in his letters, and whom he tenderly loved. In
their old age, as it very often happened at this epoch, she
separated from him to devote herself to a religious life. She
died in 836, in the nunnery, whither she had retired; and
Eginhard wrote to his friend Loup, abbot of Ferrieres:
" All my labours, all my cares for the affairs of my friends
or for my own, are nothing to me; aU is effaced, all sinks
before the cruel sorrow with which the death of her who was
formerly my faithful wife has struck me, who was also my
sister and my cherished companion. It is a misery which
cannot end, for her merits are so deeply engraven in my
memory, that nothing can tear them thence. What re
doubles my grief, and each day aggravates my wound, is,
to thus see that all my wishes have been without effect, and
that the hopes which I have placed in the intervention of the
holy martyrs are deceived. Accordingly, the words of those who
attempt to console me, and which have often succeeded with
other men, do nothing but re-open and cruelly envenom the
wound of my heart; for they call upon me to support with
courage sorrows which they do not feel, and ask me to con
gratulate myself upon a trial wherein they are incapable of
pointing out to me the slightest subject for contentment."2
The language of sorrow, infected, in most of the monu
ments of this age, with a cold and dry religious jargon, which
reduces it to monotonous common-place, is here frank aud
1 Letter 41, Recueil des Historiens de France, vol. vi. p. 380.
2 Letter from Eginhard to Loup, abbot of Ferrieres, Recueil des Histo
riens de France, vol. vi. p. 402.

. CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 273
¦simple, and proves that Eginhard had not imprisoned his
soul as well as his life in the monastic habit.
He did not long survive his wife: he died in 839, in the
monastery of Sligestadt, which he founded.
Independently of these letters, we have remaining of his:
— 1, the Life of Charlemagne; 2, Annals of his times. Of
these two works, the first is, without comparison, tjbe most
distinguished piece of history from the sixth to the eighth
century — indeed, the only one which can be called a history,
for it is the only one in which we recognise any traces o'f
composition, any political and Uterary pretension. I have as
yet only had occasion, for the most part, to speak to you of
miserable chroniclers. The Life of Charlemagne is not a
chronicle: it is a genuine political biography, written by a
man who was present at the events he narrates, and who
understood them. Eginhard commences by describing the
state of Frankish Gaul under the last Merovingians. We see
that their dethronement by Pepin was still a subject of dis
cussion with a certain number of men, and caused some dis
quietude to the race of Charlemagne. Eginhard took care to
explain how it could not be otherwise; he minutely describes
the humiliation and powerlessness into which the Merovin
gians had fallen; proceeds from this exposition to recount
the natural accessions of the Carlovingians; says a few words
upon the reign of Pepin, upon the beginning of that of
Charlemagne, and his relations with his brother Carloman;
and enters at last into the account of the reign of Charle
magne alone. The first part of the account is devoted to the
wars of that prince, and especiaUy his wars against the
Saxons. From wars and conquests, the author passes to the
internal government, to the administration of Charlemagne;
lastly, he comes to his domestic life, his personal character.
It is evident that this is not written at hazard, without
plan or aim; we here recognise intention, a systematic com
position — there is art, in a word; and since the great produc
tions of Latin Uterature, no historical work had borne such
characteristics. The work of Gregory of Tours itself without
comparison the most curious which we have encountered on
our road, is a chronicle, like the others. The Life of Charle
magne is, on the contrary, a true literary composition, con
ceived and executed by a reflecting and cultivated mind.
VOL. II. T

274 HISTORY OF
With regard to the Annals of Eginhard, they have no
value beyond that of a chronicle. His title to them has been
disputed, and they have been attributed to other writers, but
everything leads us to believe that they are by him.
It is said that he composed a detailed history of the wars
against the Saxons. Nothing of it has ccme down to us.
Alcuin and Eginhard are, without doubt, the two most dis
tinguished men of the reign of Charlemagne. Alcuin, a man
of letters, employed in government affairs ; Eginhard, a
statesman, who became a man of letters. We are about to
see this momentary splendour of the reign of Charlemagne
disappear; we are about to be present at the dismemberment
of his empire. The intellectual movement, of which we
have observed the first steps, wiU not perish; we shall see it
perpetuated as it began; on the one hand, in men who direct
the affairs of the world; and on the other, in those who
devote themselves to solitary study and learning. Society
wiU often change its state and forms; intellect, reanimated,
will now, without stopping, traverse aU its revolutions.

ClVlLIZAlION IN FRANCE. 275

TWENTY-FOUETH LECTUEE.

The progress and causes of the dismemberment of the empire of Charle
magne — 1. State of this empire in 843, after the treaty of Verdun-
Inferior state of the kingdom of France at this epoch — 2. In 888, after
the death of Charles le Gros — Seven kingdoms — Definitive establishment
of the inheritance of fiefs in France — Twenty-nine small states, or im
portant fiefs, founded at the end of the ninth century — 3. In 987, at the
fall of the Carlovingians — Four kingdoms — In France, fifty-five impor
tant fiefs — Explanation of this dismemberment — Their insufficiency —
One only, the diversity of races, developed by M. Thierry, is probable,
but incomplete — The true cause is the impossibility of a great state at
that epoch, and the progressive rise of the local societies which formed
the feudal confederation.
We read in a chronicle of the century in which Charle
magne died:
" Charles, who was always traveUing, arrived by chance
unexpectedly at a certain maritime town of Narbonnese Gaul.
WhUst he was dining, and was as yet unknown by any one,
Norman corsairs came to execute their piracies even in the
port. When the people saw the vessels, they supposed that
they were merchants; according to these, Jews; according
to those, Africans; according to others, Britons; but the able
monarch, perceiving by the construction and speed of the
vessels that they carried not merchants, but enemies, said to
his people: 'These vessels are not filled with merchandise
but with cruel enemies.' At these words, all his Franks, in
emulation of one another, ran to their vessels, but in vain.
The Normans, learning ¦ that he whom they used to call
Charles le Marteau, was there, feared least their whole fleet
should be taken in his port, or perish by wreck; and they
t2

276 HISTORY OF
avoided, by an inconceivably rapid flight, not only the sword,
but even the eyes of those who followed them. Still the
religious Charles, seized with a just awe, rising from the table,
went to the window which looked towards the east, and long
remained, with a countenance covered with tears. No one
daring to interrogate him, this valiant prince, explaining to
the great men who surrounded him the cause of his action
and his tears, said to them : ' Know you, my friends, why I
weep so bitterly? Truly, I fear not that these men should
succeed in harming me by their miserable piracies; but I am
deeply affected that, I living, they have dared to touch this
shore; and I am troubled with a violent sorrow when I
foresee with what evils they wiU overwhelm my successors
and their people.' M1
By a singular chance, we know the precise date of this
anecdote: it was written about the month of June 884 — that
is to say, seventy years after the death of Charlemagne, from
the account of a man who had taken part in many of his
expeditions against the Saxons, the Slaves, the Avares,
&c. Omitting the emphasis and tears, which the chronicler
doubtless added, we see therein that at the end of his life
Charlemagne was occupied with the perils which menaced
his kingdom on all sides. Many other texts, less precise, in
dicate the same uneasiness in him. He was still, surely, very
far from foreseeing how brief a space this empire would sur
vive liim, and to what a degree the dissolution would be car
ried. I do not propose recounting to you the events of this
dissolution, but I wish to place before you the principal crises,
and to point out their causes.
It took place between the death of Charlemagne in 814,
and the accession of Hugh Capet in 987. AU this epoch
was emploj'ed in the accomplishment of this great work. It
was by the fall of the race of the Carlovingians, and the
accession of the Capetians, that it was definitively consum
mated. At the death of Charlemagne, his empire extended from
the north-east to the south-west, from the Elbe in Germany
' Fuits et Gestes de Charles le Grand, by a monk of Saint Lou]', in my
Collection des Memoircs relatifs a I Histoire de France, vol. iii. p. 251.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCIS.

277

to the Ebro in Spain; from north to south, it extended from
the North Sea to Calabria, almost at the extremity of Italy.
His power was, doubtless, exercised very unequally in this
vast territory; upon many points he was not obeyed, — people
did not even hear him spoken of, and he cared not for this:
that was stUl his empire.
At the end of twenty-nine years, in 843, after the treaty
of Verdun, by which the sons of Louis le Debonnaire,
Lothaire, Charles le Chauve, and Louis le Germanique,
shared this empire, this was its arrangement : it formed
three kingdoms, divided according to this table: —
Table of the Dismemberment of the Empire of Charlemagne, in 843.

Kingdom of
France.
Charles leChauve,
840—877.

Kingdom of Ger
many.
Louis le
Germanique, 840—876.

3. I
Kingdom of Italy.
Lothaire I., emperor, 840 — 855.]

It comprehend
ed the countries
situated between
the Scheldt, the
Meuse, the Saone,
the Rhone, the
Mediterranean,
the Ebro, and the
Ocean.

It comprehend
ed the countries
situated between
the Rhine, the
north sea, the
Elbe, and the
Alps.

It comprehended, 1. Italy,
with the exception of Calabria;
2. The countries situated be
tween the Rhone, the Saone, and
theMeuse, to the West, the Rhine
and the Alps to the East, that
is, Provence, Dauphine, Savoy,
Switzerland, la Franche-Comte,
a part of Burgundy, Lorraine,
Alsace, and a part of the Ne
therlands.

Let it not be supposed that each of these kingdoms was
compact unity; in that of France, the only one concerning
which we have* especially to occupy ourselves, two princes,
Pepin IL, in Aquitaine, (from the year 835), and Nomenoe
in Brittany, (from the year .840), likewise assumed the title
of king, and took from Charles le Chauve the sovereignty of
a considerable portion of his territory.
The dismemberment followed its course: forty-five years
after this epoch, in 888, on the death of Charles le Gros, the
last of the Carlovingians, who seemed to unite for a moment
all the states of Charlemagne, this was the point to which it
had come. Instead of three kingdoms, we find seven:

278

HISTORY OF

Table of the Dismemberment of the Empire qf Charlemagne, about the end
of the Ninth P""i.ury.

Kingdoms.

Reigning kings.

Accession
and death.

Extent.

1. Kingdom

Charles

893—929

The countries included be

of France.

le Simple.

tween the Scheldt, the Mense,
the Saone, the Rhone, the Py
renees, and the Ocean, and a
portion of the north of Spain
beyond the Pyrenees, formerly
the county of Barcelona.

2. Kingdom

Fortun le

880—905

Almost all the north of Spain,

of Na

Moine.

between the Pyrenees and the

varre.

Ebro.
3 Kingdom
Louis 1'A-
890—928
The countries included be
of Pro
veugle.
tween the Saone, the Rhoue. the
vence, or
Alps, the Jura, and the Mediter
cis-Juran
ranean.
Burgundy
4. Kingdom
Raoul I.
888—912
The countries between the
of trans-
Jura, the Peninne Alps, and the
Juran
Reuss, that is, Switzerland, Va-
Burgundy
lais, the country of Geneva,
Chablais, and Bugey.
5. Kingdom
Zwente-
895—900
The countries between the
of Lor
bold.
Rhine, the Meuse, and the
raine.
Scheldt.
6. Kingdom
Arnoul.
888—899
The countries between the
of Ger
Rhine, the North Sea, the Elbe,
many.
the Oder, and the Alps.
7. Kingdom
Berenger I.
888—924
All Italy to the frontier of the
of Italy.
kingdom of Naples, then the
principality of Benevento, and
i
Calabria.
I return to the internal state of the kingdom of France.
In 843, two princes only, a king of Aquitaine, and a duke of
Brittany, shared his territories with Charles le Chauve. In
888, the dismemberment was carried still further, and by a
cause which was not destined to stop. Every one knows
that the possessors of domains and royal offices, that is to say,
the beneficiaries and the dukes, counts, viscounts, centeniers,
and other governors of provinces or districts, were constantly
bent upon rendering themselves independent and hereditary,
and assuring themselves the perpetual possession of their lands
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE 273
and governments. In 877, we find a capitulary of Charles
le Chauve conceived in the following terms:
" If, after our death, any of our faithful subjects, seized
with the love of God and our person, desire to renounce the
world, and if he have a son or any other relation capable of
serving the public, let him be at Uberty to transmit his fees
and honours as he pleases." J
And, in another article:
" If a count of this kingdom be about to die, and if his
son be near us, we desire that our son, with • those of our
subjects who are most nearly related to the defunct count, as
well as the other officers of the said county, and the bishop
of the diocese in which it shall be situated, shall provide for
his administration, until the death of the said count be
announced to us, and we have been able to confer upon his
son, present at our court, the honours with which be was
invested. If the son of the defunct count be a child, let
the same son, the bishop, and the other officers of the place,
in like manner see to the administration of the county, until,
informed of the death of the father, we have accorded the
same honours to the son." 2
Here we find the inheritance of benefices and of royal
offices legally consecrated: and it is written in the manners,
as in the laws; for numerous monuments attest that at this
epoch, when, on the death of the governor of a province, the
king attempted to give his county to any other than to his
descendants, not only was he resisted therein by personal
interest, but that such a measure was considered as a viola
tion of right, a veritable injustice. Wilhelm and Engelschalk
occupied two countships on the confines of Bavaria, under
Louis le Begue: on their death, their offices were given to
count Arbo, to the exclusion of their sons: " Their children
and their relations, looking upon this as a great injustice,
said that things should be otherwise, and that they would die
by the sword, or that Arbo should quit the county of .their
family."'' This principle bore its fruits: About the end of the ninth
1 Cap. Car. Calv., a. 877, tit. 53, § 10 ; Bal., vol. ii., p. 264.
» Id. § 9 and 3 : Bal., vol ii., p. 263—269.
• Anne, Fuld, a. 877, Recueil des Historians de France, vol. viii. p. 48.

280

HISTORY OF

century, twenty-nine provinces, or fragments of provinces,
were already erected into small states, the ancient governors
of which, under the names of duke, count, viscount, had be
come their true sovereigns. Twenty-nine fiefs, in fact, which
have played an eminent part in our history, are traceable to
this period.
Table of the Feudal Dismemberment of the Kingdom of France, about the
end of the Ninth Century.

1

Date of

Name of the pos

Date of his
accession &
of his death.

Nos. Title of the fief.
1

becom
ing here
ditary.

sessor at the end
¦ of the ninth cen
tury.

1

Duchy of Gascony.

872

SancheMittarrall

2

Viscounty of Beam.

819

A son of Centulf
II.

3

County of Toulouse.

850

Eudes.

875—918

4

Marquisate of Septi-
manie.

878

William le Pieux.

886—918

5

| County of Barcelona.

864

Wifred le Velu.

864—906

6

County of Carcas
sonne.

819

Acfred I.

904

7

Viscounty of Nar-
bonne.

Mayeul.

911

i 8

County of Roussillon.

Raoul.
About 905
9
County of Urgel.
884
Suinifred.
884—950
10
County of Poictiers.
880
Eble Ie Batard.
892—932
11
County of Auvergne.
864
William le Pieux.
886—918
12
Duchy of Aquitaine.
id.
The same.
id.
13
County of Angouleme.
866
Alduin I.
886—916
14
County of Perigord.
id.
William.
886—920
15
Viscounty of Limoges.
887
AdKlbert.
914
16
Lordship of Bourbon.
Adhemar.
About 921
17
County of the Ly-
onnese.
890
William II.
890—920
18
Lordship of Beaujolais.
id.
Berauld I.
19
Duchy of Burgundy.
887
Richard le Justi-
877—921
20
County of Chalons.
886
cier.
ManassesdeVergy
21
Duchy of France.
830
Robert II.
898—923,
22
County of Vexin.
878
Alednm.
23
County of Verman.
Abt. 880
Herbert I.
902
24
County of Valois.
id.
Pepin.
25
County of Ponthieu.
859
Helgaud II.
878—926
26
County of Boulogne.
Abt. 860
Regniel.
882
27
County of Anjou.
870
Foulque le Roux.
888— 93S
28
County of Maine.
853
Gottfried.
29
County of Britany.
Alain III.
877—907
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

2S1

The importance of these states is not equal, nor their inde
pendence absolutely alike; some still keep up frequent relations
with the king of France; others are under the protection of a
powerful neighbour; certain ties unite them, and hence cer
tain reciprocal obligations result which will become the con
stitution of the feudal society. But the dominant feature
is not any the less isolation, independence; they are evi
dently as many small states, born of the dismemberment of a
great territory — local governments, formed at the expense of
the central power.
From the end of the ninth century I pass at once to the
end of the tenth, to the termination of the epoch which occu
pies us, to the complete fall of the Carlovingians, who give
place to the Capetiens.
Instead of seven kingdoms, the ancient kingdom of Charle
magne then could number only four.
1. The kingdoms of Provence and Transjuran Burgundy
were united, in 933, by Raoul IL, king of Transjuran Bur
gundy, and formed the kingdom of Aries, governed, from
937 to 993, by Conrad le Pacifique.
2. The kingdom of Lorraine, from which many great fiefs
were detached, was nothing more than a duchy, possessed,
from 984 to 1026, by Thierry I.
3. Otho the Great, in 964, united the kingdom of Italy
to the empire of Germany.
In the interior of the kingdom of France, the dismember
ment was continued: instead of 29 small states or fiefs which
we encountered at the end of the ninth century, we find
therein, at the end of the tenth, fifty-five fully established.
Table ofllie Feudal Dismemberment of the Kingdom of France, about t!u
end of Hie Tenth Century.

Nos.

Title of the Fief.

Date of the
hereditary
foundation.

Name of the possessor
in 987.

Date of his |
accession and |
of his death.

1 | Duchy of Gascony.
2 Viscounty of Becvrn.
3 Viscounty of Bigorre.
County of Fezenzae.
County of Armagnac.

819
End of 9th
century. 920960

Bernard William.
Centulf Gaston II.
Garcia Arnouid I.
Aimery I.
Gerard Trancalion.

984—1010
984—1004

983—1032

282

HISTORY OF

Table of the Feudal Dismemberment of the Kingdom of France, dc. — continued.

Nos.

Title of the Fief.

Date of the
hereditary
foundation.

Name of the possessor
in 987.

Date of his
accession and
of his death.

6

County of Lectoure
and Lomagne.

End of 10th
century.

Raymond Arnaud.

7

County of Astarac.

About 930

Arnaud II.

8

County of Toulouse.

850

William Taillefer.

950—1037

9

County of Barcelona.

864

Borreh. count of Urgel.

967 — 993

10

County of Rouergue.

820

Raymond III.

961—1010

11

County of Carcassonne

819

Roger I.

957— 10i2

12

Viscounty of Narbonne

End of 9 th
century.

Raymond L

966—1023

13

County of MelgueiL

Commence
ment of 10th

Bernard II.

14

Lordship of Montpe-

century. 975

William I.

975—1019

15

County of Rousillon.

Middle of
9 th century.

Gauffred 1.

16
County of Urgel.
884
Borrel.
950 — 993 .j
17
County of Poictiers.
880
William Fier-a-Bras.
963 — 997 ;
18
Duchy of Aquitaine.
864
The same.
1
19
County of Auvergne.
Id.
Guij I.
979 — 989 i
20
County of ^.ngouleme.
866
Arnaud le Batard.
975—1001 '|
21
County of Perigord
and of La Haute-
Marche.
Id.
Adalbert I.
968 — 995 '
22
County of La Basse-
Marche.
Id.
Bosson II.
968—1032
23
Viscounty of Limoges.
887
Gerard.
963—1000
24
Viscounty of Turenne.
Middle of
9th century.
Archamhaud Jambe-
Pourri.
25
Viscounty of Bourges.
927
Geoffry II.
1021
26
Lordship of Bourbon.
End of 9th
century.
Archamhaud II.
27
County of Macon.
920
Alberic II.
979 — 995 j
28
Duchy of Burgundy.
877
Henry le Grand.
965—1002
29
County of Chalons.
886
Hugues I.
987—1039 |
30
Lordship of Salius.
920
Humbert II.
31
County of Nevers.
987
Othon William.
987—1027 I
32
County of Tonnerre.
End of 10th
century.
Gui
987 — 992 1
33
County of Sens.
941
Renaud le Vieux.
951—936 !
34
County of Champagne.
End of 9 th
century.
Herbert II.
968 — 993 1
35
County of Blois.
834
Eudes I.
978 — 935
38
1
County of Rethel.
Middle of
10th century.
Manasses I.
!
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

283

Table of the Feudal Dismemberment of the Kingdom of France, d-c. — continued.

Nos.

Title of the Fief.

Date of the
hereditary
foundation.

Name of the possessor j Date ?f his .
in 987 accession and
of his death,

County of Corbeil.
Barony of Montmo
rency.
County of Vexin.
County of Meulent.
County of Vermandois,
County of Valois.
County of Soissons.
County of Reucy and
Rheims.
County of Ponthieu.
County of Boulogne.
County of Guines.
County of Vendome.
Duchy of Normandy.
County of Anjou.
County of Maine.
Lordship of Belleme.
County of Brittany.
Barony of Fougeres.

55 County of Flanders.

Mid. 10th cent.
Id.
878959880 Id.
End of 10th
century. 940859 860
965
End of 10th
century. 912870 853
940
End of 10th
century. 862

Bouchard I.
Bouchard II.
Gauthier I.
Robert I.
Herbert III.
Gauthier I.
Gui, Count of Vexin.
Gilbert.
Hugues.Guy Barbe Blanche.
Adolphe.
Bouchard I.
Richard-sans-Peur.Foulques Nerra.
Hugues I.
Ives I.
Conan I.
Meen I.
Arnauld II. the younger

10121020

987—1000

739

966

943-987-
955-987-

1007
-996-1040-1015 997
-992 1020

965 — 989

And these were not, as was the case under the Merovin
gians, accidental momentary dismemberments, the fruit of
the general uncertainty of property and power; they were
permanent, consummated results. These fifty-five duchies,
counties, viscounties, lordships, had a long political existence;
sovereigns hereditarily succeeded sovereigns; laws, customs,
were regularly established therein. Men might write, indeed
have written, their separate histories; for a long period they
formed the history of France.
Such is the actual picture of the progressive dismember
ment of the empire of Charlemagne, which commenced before
the middle of the ninth century, and was accomplished at
the end of the 10th. This dissolution was a subject of great
sorrow and fear to some contemporaries, as, in the fall of the
.Roman empire, elevated minds thought they saw in it a new

284 HISTORY OF
invasion of barbarism and of chaos. A talented man, Floras,
deacon of the church of Lyons, under the reign of Louis le
Debonnaire and of Charles le Chauve, has deplored it in a
kind of lament, of which the foUowing is the literal transla
tion: —
" A beautiful empire flourished under a brilliant diadem;
there was but one prince and one people; every town had
judges and laws. The zeal of the priests was -sustained by
frequent councils; young people repeatedly read the holy
scriptures, and the minds of children were formed to the
study of letters. Love, on the one hand, on the other, fear,
everywhere kept up good order. Thus the Frankish nation
shone in the eyes of the whole world. Foreign kingdoms,
the Greeks, the barbarians, and the senate of Latium, sent
embassies to it. The race of Romulus, Rome herself, the
mother of kingdoms, was subject to this nation; it was there
that its chief, sustained by the help of Christ, received the
diadem by apostolic gift. Happy if it had known its good
fortune, the empire which had Rome as a citadel, and the
door-keeper of heaven as a founder! Now fallen, this great
power has lost at once its splendour and the name of empire;
the kingdom lately so well united is divided into three parts;
there is no one who can be looked upon as emperor; instead
of a king, we see a kinglet; instead of a kingdom, a piece of
a kingdom. The general good is annulled; each occupies
himself with his own interests; they think of nothing else;
God is forgotten. The pastors of the Lord, accustomed to
meet, can no longer hold their synods amidst such division.
There is no longer any assembly of the people, no longer
any laws; an embassy arrives in vain there where there is
no court. What wiU the neighbouring nations of the Danube,
the Rhine, the Rhone, the Loire, and the Po, become? An
ciently united by the ties of concord, now that the alliance is
broken, they will be troubled by unhappy dissensions. To
what end will the wrath of God bring all these evils?
Scarcely is there one who thinks thereon with fear. Who
meditates on what is passing, and is afflicted? men rather
rejoice at the breaking up of the empire, and they call an
order of things peace, which offers none of the benefits of
peace."1 1 Recueil des Histonens des Gaules et de la France, vol. vii. p. 302
and following pages.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. '2%5
Two facts clearly appear in this poem: on the one hand,
the sorrow which the dismemberment of the empire caused
to enhghtened men; on the other, the popular satisfaction;
the people felt as if restored to themselves, and disencumbered
of a burden. The dissolution was evidently brought about
by general, necessary causes. The bond which the will and
conquests of Charlemagne had established between so many
different nations, so many distant and separate territories,
the unity of country and power, were factitious, and could
not subsist.
What, upon regarding more nearly, were the causes of the
phenomenon, whose principal crises we have just followed?
How was the dismemberment effected? What internal trans
formation did society in the end then undergo?
A crowd of solutions, aU equally unsatisfactory, have been
given of this problem. Some people have assigned the decay
of the empire of Charlemagne to the incapacity of his successors ;
of Louis le Debonnaire, of Charles le Chauve, Charles le
Gros, and Charles the Simple; if they had had the genius and
the character of the founder of the empire, the empire, say
they, would gloriously have subsisted. Others have imputed
its fall to the avidity of the dukes, counts, viscounts, benefi
ciaries, and other royal officers of all kinds; they sought to
render themselves independent ; they usurped the power,
dismembered the state. According to others, it is the
Normans who should answer for its ruin: the continuity of
their invasions, and the misery into which the people had
fallen, brought about all the evil. The explanations are
evidently narrow and puerile. One only has more value, and
merits a serious inquiry: this is that which M. Augustin
Thierry has recently developed, in his Lettres sur I'Histoire
de France, and especiaUy in the second edition.1 I do not
entirely agree with it; I do not think that it is sufficient to
account for the facts; but it is ingenious, lofty, and, without
doubt, contains much truth.
According to M. Thierry, the dismemberment of the
empire of Charlemagne was brought about by the diversity
of races. On the death of Charles, when the terrible hand
which forcibly held together so many different nations had
' Letters xj. and xii., p 191 — 247

286 HISTORY* OF
lost its hold, they first separated, and then grouped them
selves according to their true nature, that is to say, according
to origin, language, manners; and under this influence was
accomplished the formation of the new states. Such is the
general physiognomy and explanation which M. Thierry
assigns to this great event. Let us see how he applies the
particular facts, and in what successive crises he supposes he
can recognise the development of this cause. I shall perhaps
give a more precise, more systematic form to his ideas, that
they have in the letters themselves; but, at bottom, I shall
neither add nor retrench anything.
Between the death of Charlemagne, and the accession of
Hugues Capet, M. Thierry distinguishes two great epochs.
The first extends from the death of Charlemagne to that of
Charles le Gros, after which seven kingdoms, (M. Thierry
reckons nine), shared the territory of the empire. The second
extends from the end of the ninth century to the end of the
tenth, to the accession of Hugues Capet. To these two
epochs correspond two phases of the dismemberment, two
revolutions different in object and character, although arising
from the same causes, and tending to the same end.
To the first epoch belongs the national struggle of races,
by which the great events which fill it are naturally ex
plained. The two principal are incontestably the quarrel
between Louis le Debonnaire and his sons, and that of the
sons of Louis le Debonnaire among themselves. What is
the true meaning of these two crises? Let us hear M. Thierry
himself: " From the commencement of the civil wars between the
emperor Louis I. and his children. ... a great divergency of
political opinion became visible between the Franks Uving in
the midst of the Gaulish population, and those who remained
upon the ancient German territory. The first, connected.
despite their descent, with the interest of the people con
quered by their ancestors, in genera] took part against the
emperor, that is, against the empire, which, for the Gaulish
aborigines, was a government of conquest. The others united
in the contrary party, with all the Teutonic colonies, the ancient
enemies of the Franks. Thus all the Teutonic nations, leagued
apparently for the rights of a single man, defended their
national cause by maintaining against the Gallo-Franks and
the Welskes, a power which was the result of the German

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 287
victories. . . . According to the testimony of a cotemporary,
the emperor Lodewig mistrusted the Gallo-Franks, and put
confidence only in the Germans. When, in 830, the parti
sans of a reconciliation between father and son proposed, as
a means of attaining it, a general assembly, the evil-disposed
laboured to procure that this assembly might be held in a
town in Roman France. " But the emperor," says the same
historian, " was not of this opinion, and he obtained, accord
ing to his desires, that the people should be convoked at
Nimeguen: aU Germany repaired thither in great numbers,
in order to aid him." •
" Shortly afterwards, Germany herself, hitherto so faithful to
the empire, separated her national cause from that of the new
Cassars. When Lodewig I. at his death, left the Frankish
dominion shared between his three sons, Lother, Lodewig, and
Karle; although the first had the title of emperor, the Teu
tonic nations attached themselves to the second, who was only
king. The question of the preeminence of the empire over
the kingdoms was soon discussed between the brothers at the
point of the sword; and from the commencement of the war,
the eastern Franks, the Almanni, the Saxons, and the Thu
ringians took part against the keisar, (emperor.)
" Reduced to the government of Italy, Helvetia, Provence,
and a smaU portion of Belgian Gaul, the emperor Lother also
had as few partisans on the borders of the Rhine and the Elbe,
as upon those of the Seine and the Loire : " Know," he
wrote to his brothers, who prayed him to leave them in
peace each in his kingdom, "know, that the title of em
peror was given to me by superior authority, and consider
what extent of power and what magnificence should accom
pany spch a title." This haughty answer was, properly
speaking, a manifesto against the national independence of
which the people felt the want ; they answered to it, in -a
terrible manner, by that famous battle of Fontanet, near Aux
erre, where the sons of the Welkses and the Teutskes, fought
under the same banner for the overthrow of the poUtical sys
tem founded by Charles the Great."2
Despite the diversity of combination, both quarrels have,
then, the same character: and, in this continued effort against
1 Recueil des Historiens des Gaules et de la France, vol. vi. p. 8.
» Letter xi. p. 195—199.

248 HISTORY OF
unity and empire, it was always according to races that the
dismemberment tended to operate.
In aU the events comprehended between 814 and 888, as
in these two, M. Thierry thinks the action of the same cause
may be recognised, and he comes thus to the formation of
the nine kingdoms that it raised upon the ruins of the empire.
He reckons nine, for he looks upon Aquitaine and Brittany as
kingdoms, although at the end of the ninth century the count
of Brittany and the dukes of Aquitaine did not bear the title
of king. Then commenced the second epoch, and the second
revolution. In this epoch it is no longer the breaking up of states ac
cording to the difference of race that is in question; this
work was already consummated. But Frankish Gaul remains
under the empire of foreign sovereigns: the population which
inhabits it is mixed; even Gauls dominate in it; and the
descendants of Charlemagne are pure Germans. To expel
them, to put in their place princes of a more national origin,
such according to M. Thierry, was the constant effort of
France, properly so called, from 888 to 987; such is the secret
of all the vicissitudes, of all the struggles of the 10th century,
and especially, 1st, of the struggle of the elective king Eudes
against the legitimate king, Charles le Simple; 2, of that of
Hugues the Great, duke of France, against Louis d'Outre
Mer; 3, of the definitive faU of Louis V. and of the succes
sion of Hugues Capet.
" The race of Charles the Great," says M. Thierry, " en
tirely German, and attaching themselves by the ties of tradi
tion and the affections of parentage, to the countries of the
Teutonic language, could only be looked upon by the Franks
as an obstacle to that separation upon which their indepen
dent existence had just been founded. The idiom of the con*
quest, fallen into disuse in the castles of the lords, was pre-
served in the royal house. The descendants of the Frank
emperors deemed it an honour to understand this language of
their ancestors, and collected pieces of verse composed by the
poets beyond the Rhine. . . . Doubtless, in the events which
¦followed 987, the premature death of Lodewig, son of Lother,
we must attribute a large share to the ambition and character
of the founder of the third dynasty. . . . Nevertheless it may
be affirmed that this ambition, hereditary in the family of

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 289
Robert le Fort, for a whole century was maintained and aided
by the movement of national opinion. Even the expressions
of the Chronicles, dry as they are at this epoch of our history,
lead us to suppose that the question of the change of dynasty
was not then looked upon as a personal affair. According to
them, the matter in hand was an inveterate hostility, an
enterprise undertaken long since with the view of rooting up
tho posterity of the Frank kings from the kingdom of France.
.... The accession of the third race was the accomplishment
of this enterprise ; it was, properly speaking, the end of the
kingdom of the Franks, and the substitution of a national
royalty instead of the government founded by the conquest."1
From Charlemagne to Hugh Capet, the liistory of France
reduces itself into two great facts : 1, the separation of
nations according to the diversity of races; 2, the expulsion
of the sovereigns of a purely German race, in order to give
place to sovereigns of GaUo-Frankish, that is to say, national
origin. Such is the system of M. Thierry ; a rare knowledge of
events, a lively feeling of the situation and of manners are
displayed therein, at each step. But a few observations will
suffice, if I do not deceive myself, to show that it is incom
plete, and too exclusive.
1. In the various alliances and combinations which took
place under Louis le Debonnaire, and his children, the nations
were far from being always connected or separated according
to races; many other causes determined their movements, and
the consideration of race often appears very subordinate
therein. I desire for proof only, the facts of which M. Thierry
himself has spoken. In the wars of Louis against his children,
the nations of purely German race seem to defend the empe
ror and the empire; in the wars of the sons of Louis, it is they
who combat him; and among those who defend it in the train
of Lothaire, there are Romans, Gauls, Goths, Burgundians,
Franks; nor are all the kingdoms ranged against the imperial
pretensions of Lothaire, for the king of Aquitaine, Pepin II.
allied himself with him against Louis le Germanique and
Charles le Chauve. The geographical position, personal in
terests, numerous changing and special causes evidently exer-
a J Letter xii. pp. 228, 235, 287.
VOL. II. V

290 HISTORY OF
cised an influence over their alliance which was often more
decisive than the origin and relationship of nations.
2. This relationship is not more decisive as to the forma
tion of kingdoms: those of Cis-Juran and Trans- Juran Bur
gundy clearly show this ; all the races are there mixed,
and there the demarcation is determined by entirely other
motives. 3. The consideration of race is still more foreign to the
formation of three small states, duchies, counties, lordships,
&c, into which each kingdom was subdivided. There was
here no struggle of origin or nationaUty, and yet there wa3
separation, dismemberment, the same as among the great
masses of populations of which kingdoms are formed.
Other causes than the diversity of races presided, then,
at the dissolution of the empire of Charlemagne, and at the
formation of the new states. That, doubtless, contributed to
it: but it should not be looked upon as a general, dominant
cause: for the same facts are brought about when it did not
act, as when it did act. Now it is the general and dominant
cause which we seek. Since the diversity of races does
not furnish us with it, let us endeavour to find it else-
where. You will recollect that, in exhibiting the state of Eoman
Gaul and its inhabitants, ancient and modern, after the great
invasion,1 I established that the two primitive associations
of the German nations — the tribes, administered according to
the principles of liberty; and the warrior-band, in which
military and aristocratic patronage prevailed — were equally
broken up in passing to the Roman soil, for their institutions
no longer suited the new situation of the conquerors, at once
proprietors, and dispersed over a vast territory.
You have also seen the Roman society, its general organi«
zation, at least, as to the force which presided over it, the
imperial administration, dissolve after the invasion: so that
at the commencement of the eighth century, Roman society
and German society had alike perished in Frankish Gaul,
now abandoned to the most heterogeneous anarchy.
The attempt of Charlemagne was to entirely resuscitate it;
to restore the empire and its unity, by re-estabUshing on the
1 Lecture viii. vol. i

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 991
one hand the Roman administration, on the other, national
German assemblies, and military patronage. He in some
sort renewed aU the modes of association, all the means of
government which the empire and Germany had known, and
which lay disorganized and powerless, in order to replace
them in vigour for his own good. He was at once chief of
the warriors, president of the national assemblies, and emperor.
He succeeded for a moment, and on his own account. But
this was, as it were, a galvanic resurrection; applied to a
great society, the principles of the imperial administration,
those of the wandering band, and those of the free tribes of
Germany, were equaUy impracticable. No great society could
be maintained. It is necessary to find its elements, on one
hand in the minds of men, on the other in social relations.
Now the moral and the social state of the people at this epoch
equaUy resisted all association, all government of a single
and extended character. Mankind had few ideas, and did
not look far around. Social relations were rare and restricted.
The horizon of thought and of life was exceedingly limited.
Under such conditions, a great society is impossible. What
are the natural and necessary bonds of political union? on the
one hand, the number and extent of the social relations; on
the other, of the ideas whereby men communicate, and are
held together. Where neither of these are numerous or
extensive, the bonds of a great society or state are non
existent. Such was the case in the times of which we now
speak. Small societies, local governments, cut, as it were, to
the measure of existing ideas and relations, were alone pos
sible; and these alone succeeded in establishing themselves.
The elements of these petty societies, and petty local
governments were ready at hand. The possessors of benefices
by grant from the king, or of domains occupied by con
quest, the counts, dukes, governors of provinces, were dis
seminated throughout the country. These became the natural
centres of corresponding associations. Round them was
agglomerated, voluntarUy, or by force, the neighbouring
population, whether free or in bondage. Thus were formed
the petty states caUed fiefs; and this was the real cause of
the dissolution of the empire of Charlemagne. Power
and the nation were dismembered, because unity of power
and of the nation was impossible; aU became local, because
v2

292 HISTORY 01?
aU generality was banished from interests, existences, and
minds. Laws, judgments, the regulations for order, wars,
tyrannies, liberties, all were compressed in small territories,
because nothing could be regulated or maintained in a larger
circle. When this great fermentation of the various social
conditions, and of the various powers which covered France
was accomphshed, when the small societies which had arisen
from it had invested with a more or less regular and deter
minate form, the hierarchical relations which united them,
that result of the conquest and of the reviving civilization
took the name of the feudal system. It is* at about the end
of the tenth century, and when the Carlo vingian race disap.
peared, that this revolution may be looked upon as consum
mated. We have just foUowed it in the historical monu
ments; in the next lecture we shaU study the legislative
monuments of the same epoch, and if I do not deceive rnyself!
we shall equaUv recognise it thero.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 293

TWENTY-FIFTH LECTURE.

History of legislation from the death of Charlemagne to the accession oj
Hugh Capet — Necessity of precisely determining the general charac
teristics of the legislation at the two terms of this epoch, in order to
understand properly its progress during its course — 1. State of the
legislation under Charlemagne — It is personal, and varies according to
races — The church and the imperial power give it some unity — 2. State
of the legislation after Hugh Capet — It is territorial; local customs
have replaced national laws — All central legislative power has disap
peared — 3. History of legislation in Frankish Gaul between these two
terms — Analytical tables of the capitularies of Louis le Debonnaire,
Charles le Chauve, Louis le Begue, Carloman, Eudes, and Charles le
Simple — Comparison of these tables according to the figures only —
Comparison of the provisions of the capitularies — General results of
this inquiry.
I have sought the progress and the causes of the dismem
berment of the empire of Charlemagne, in events, in history,
properly so called. I have endeavoured to distinguish what
transformation Gallo-Frankish society underwent, and why.
I have shown that, of the various explanations which people
have attempted to give of it, none is satisfactory; that that even
which contains the most truth, the diversity of races, is ex
clusive, incomplete, does not account for aU the facts. It
seemed to me that the impossibiUty of a sole and extensive
society, in the state in which social relations and minds then
were, alone fully explains this great and so rapid metamor
phosis; that the formation of a multitude of smaU societies,
that is to say, the establishment of the feudal system, was the
necessary consequence, the natural course of events; that
since their meeting, Roman and German society had tended

294 HISTORY OF
towards this end, and that they had, in fact, attained it at the
end of the tenth century, when the dismemberment of the
empire of Charlemagne was definitively accomplished.
If this explanation is established, if such was the progress
of facts from Charlemagne to Hugh Capet, we ought to
find it in the history of laws as in the history of events.
Between the development of legislation and that of society,
there is an intimate correspondence; the same revolutions
are accomplished therein, and in an analogous order. Let us
now study the history of the laws during the same epoch,
and let us see if they will lead us to the same result, if we
shall see the same explanation arise from it.
The history of laws is more difficult to understand thoroughly
than that of events, properly so called. Laws, from their
very nature, are monuments more incomplete, less exphcit,
and consequently more obscure. Besides, nothing is more
difficult, and yet more indispensable, than to take fast hold of
and never lose the chronological thread. When we give an
account of external facts, wars, negotiations, invasions, &c.,
their chronological concatenation is simple, palpable; each
event bears, as it were, its date written on its face. The
actual date of laws is often correctly known; it is often known
at what epoch they were decreed; but the facts which they
were designed to regulate, the causes which made them to be
written in one- year rather than another, the necessities and
social revolutions to which the legislation corresponds, this is
what is almost always unknown, at least, not understood, and
which it is stiU necessary to follow step by step. It is from this
study having been neglected, from the not having rigorously
observed the chronological progress of laws in their relation
with that of society, that confusion and falsehood have so
often been thrown into their history. For example, you
constantly hear speak of the feudal laws as already in vigour
at the sixth century, immediately after the conquest, and of
barbarous laws as being still in vigour at the eleventh cen
tury, under the feudal system. The resemblance of certain
facts, of certain words, which are equaUy met with in the two
epochs, causes this mistake: a Uttle more attention to the
chronological development of laws and of the social state,
would have prevented it. Numerous errors in this matter,
some of them the result of mere ignorance, many systematic
and learned, have no other origin.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 295
In order to prevent falling into it in the study with which
wc have now to occupy ourselves, one means only seems to
me efficacious, that is, to determine precisely the two terms
between which this study is comprised, that is, the general
state of Gallo-Frankish society, first at the death of Charle
magne, and then at the accession of Hugh Capet. When
we correctly know these two facts, when we know what the
legislation was throughout its progress, we shall" not be so
Uable to deceive ourselves concerning the route which it had
followed in the interval; and if the study which we make of
its history, between the two terms, gives a clear account of
its transition from one to the other, we shaU be justified in
confiding in it.
It wiU be understood that I only intend here to point 'out
the general characteristics pf legislation under Charlemagne
and under Hugh Capet; but that wiU suffice for our pur
pose. At the first epoch, at the commencement of the ninth cen
tury, the essential characteristic feature of the legislation is
that it is personal and not territorial; that is to say, that
each people, each race, has its law, and that wherever men, of
such or such a race, live, they foUow its law, and not that
of the territory which they inhabit. The Romans are
governed by the Roman law; the Franks by the Salic or the
Ripuarian law; the Burgundians by the Burgundian law;
the Lombards by the Lombard law; the Saxons by the Saxon
law, &c. Nationality is inherent in the legislation; in the
diversity of races, and not in that of places, resides the prin
ciple of the variety of laws.
Above this variety hover certain principles of unity. And
first, the canonical legislation is one, the same for all people,
whatever their origin or name. The religious society is
essentially one; unity is the standard of the church; hence
the unity of the ecclesiastical legislation, in the midst of the.
most various national laws.
Civil legislation itself, taking this word in its most exten
sive sense, and as opposed to religious legislation, is not
devoid of aU unity. The king, the emperor, with or without
the concurrence of the national assemblies, decrees certain
laws applicable to aU the inhabitants of his empire, Romans,
Franks, Lombards, Burgundians, &c. There is evidently

296 HISTORY OF
universality in many of the capitularies of Charlemagne; they
are addressed to the whole territory, and are obligatory upon
all. To speak in a general way, and leaving aside exceptions,
it is more especially in respect to civil and penal law that
diversity according to races pervades the legislation of this
period. Unity is complete in the religious legislation, and
tends to prevail in the poUtical legislation, which comes under
the influence of the central power.
Such are the general characteristics of legislation at the
commencement of the ninth century. I pass at once to the
commencement of the eleventh, the term at which the epoch
which we are studying stops, and when the feudal system
had taken her definitive consistency in France, and truly pos
sessed society. What metamorphosis is brought about in
the laws?
Their diversity, according to races, has disappeared.
There still remain some traces of it; we stiU find the Saxon,
Salic, Lombard law spoken of ; but these are only rare in
stances, the faint echo of an order of things becoming extinct.
The laws vary, not according to races, but, on the one hand,
according to conditions; on the -other, according to places.
The social legislation, from being personal, has become terri
torial. There are different laws for different kinds of pro
perty, different degrees of liberty. Accordingly, in each
small state formed by the feudal subdivision of the territory!
arise peculiar laws. The diversity of races has been re
placed by that of classes and of places. To the national laws
have succeeded privileges and customs. This is the first
characteristic, the essential feature of the new physiognomy
that legislation has taken.
Another great change also took place. You have just seen
that in the beginning of the ninth century, the unity of the
imperial power was, notwithstanding the variety of the na
tional laws, a principle of unity in the laws. In the commence
ment of the eleventh century, nothing of the kind existed;
there was no longer any central, general legislative power;
the variety of laws established according to places, to circum
stances — that is to say, the variety of privileges and customs
was no longer combated or modified by any principle of unity
derived from a higher sphere. There was no unity existing

CIVILIZATION :N FRANCE.

297

but in the legislation of the church, which alone remained
superior to all diversities.
The great revolutions, then, which occurred in the legisla
tion from the ninth to the tenth century, may be thus stated:
1. Legislation, according to races, had given way to legisla
tion according to social conditions, to local circumstances.
2. Central legislative power, and the unity thence resulting
to certain branches of legislation, more especially in poUtical
legislation, had disappeared.
This is the transformation which the history of legislation
from the ninth to the eleventh century has to describe. Let
us exhibit its course.
I have aheady spoken to you of the legislative monuments
which remain of this period, the capitularies of the Carlovin-
gian kings. You remember the analysis to which I subjected
those of Charlemagne, and the results I derived from that
analysis. I classed them, as you recollect, under eight prin
cipal heads: 1. Moral legislation; 2. Political legislation; 3.
Penal legislation; 4. Civil legislation; 5. Religious legisla
tion; 6. Canonical legislation; 7. Domestic legislation; 8.
Occasional legislation. I have applied the same method to
the capitularies of Charlemagne's successors, with these re
sults: Analytical Table of the Capitularies of Louis le Debonnaire.

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298

HISTORY OF

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CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

301

Capitulary Table of Eudes, King of France, (887 — 898.)

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Comparative Analytical Table of the Capitularies of Charlemagne, Louis le Dehonnaire, Charles le
Chauve, Louis le Begue, Carloman, Eudes, and Charles le Simple.

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Louis le Debonnaire. (814 — 840.)
Charles le Chauve. (840—877.)
Louis le Begue. (877—879.)
Carloman. (879—884.)
Eudes. (887—898.)
Charles Ie Simple. (893—929.)

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249

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 393
Before we enter into an examination of the provisions
themselves, thus classified under these different heads, let us
consider their numeral aspect: the mere comparison of figures
will develop important facts.
Between the reign of Charlemagne and that of Louis le
Debonnaire, if we merely look to the number of articles in
moral, political, penal, religious, &c, legislations, we shall
notice very little difference ; the various classes of capitula-
laries are, as to mere figures, in very nearly the same respec
tive proportions. The occasional legislation is somewhat
fuller in the latter reign, but not sufficiently so to arrest our
attention. We must penetrate quite into the interior of the
legislation to discover that it has become changed in its
character, that it is no longer the work of the same government
in the latter as in the former case.
We perceive a further distinction underCharles Ie Chauve;
here the numerical proportion of the various classes of legisla
tion is changed. Under the heads of moral, penal, civil,
religious, canonical, and domestic legislation, we find very few
articles, while, on the other hand, the list of political and
occasional measures is much fuller; a certain indication of a
great change in the state of society and of power. To what
interests does moral, penal, civil, religious legislation address
itself. To interests which affect society far more nearly than
they do power; important, doubtless, for power itself, but of
an importance which has nothing direct or selfish about it,
which has relation to the public functions of government, and
not to distinct and personal existence. Political and occa
sional legislation, on the contrary, affects power in its perso
nality; it is power which such measures serve or impede; it
is power, more especially, and often power alone which they
contemplate in their effects. Accordingly, whenever, in
whatever epoch, or under whatever form, you see political
and occasional laws multiply, be assured that the government
is in danger, that it has enemies against whom it is defending
itself, that it is not simply and solely occupied in fulfilling its
public character, that it is not principally intent upon social
interests, but that it is its personal interests which guide and
rule its action. In the course of the Revolution of England,
and of our own, in all similar crises, what classes of legisla
tion fill the statute books? Political and occasional laws.

304 HISTORY OF
The name and character of law is given formally to all the
measures of government; but, in point of fact, they are
merely acts of government, acts framed in the view above
all to the interest of power, and for its service, rather than
for the public service. This fact manifests itself clearly
in a simple numerical comparison of the different classes of
capitularies under Charlemagne and under Charles le Chauve.
Under Charlemagne, occasional legislation is very limited; it
is evidently a tranquil government, having full confidence in
itself, occupied solely with the idea of accomplishing its task
and conducting the affairs of the society. Under Charles le
Chauve, it is to political and occasional measures that legisla
tion applies itself; this, assuredly, is a tottering government,
desperately endeavouring to regain the force and order which
are abandoning it. Weakness and disorganization in the
central power are manifested in the very fact.
How stands the matter under the successors of Charles le
Chauve? What do the figures tell us here?
Political and occasional legislation still predominate in the
capitularies, but even that is more and more limited; even
the legislative measures in which power is personally inter
ested, become fewer and fewer. It is clear that, not only as
under Charles le Chauve, the central government is in peril,
but that it is disappearing altogether; before, it defended
itself; now, it makes no attempt to do so; it abandons itself,
it takes no heed to itself; it has, indeed, no self to take heed
to, for it is non-existent.
Thus, without any examination of the contents of the
capitularies, by a simple comparison of the figures wliich in
dicate the various classes of laws, we identify the same pro
gress, we are present at the same spectacle that has been
exhibited to us by the history of events. Legislation is
stamped with the impress of the revolutions which the country
underwent. The government of Charlemagne, like his
Empire, is dismembered and dissolved.
Let us examine the interior of this legislation, the contents
of the capitularies: we shall arrive at precisely the same
results. This examination is susceptible of great extension, and
might be made the topic of a vast number of curious obser
vations; but I am compelled to limit myself to general facts.
Of these, the most important are as follow.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. £t>5
1. In describing to you the capitularies of Charlemagne,
I pointed out their extreme diversity; they are not, as you
will remember, merely laws, but comprise acts of every kind;
ancient laws re-enacted* fragments of ancient laws, applied
specially to particular portions of the empire; additions to the
ancient laws; new laws of the emperor, decreed sometimes
with the concurrence of the laity and ecclesiastics together;
sometimes with that of the ecclesiastics alone, sometimes,
again, of the emperor in person, independently of any as
sembly at all; instructions given to the missi dominici;
questions addressed to the missi ; answers by the emperor to
questions from the missi ; notes made by the emperor for his
own use; memoranda of questions that he proposed to put,
in the next general assembly, to such and such persons,
bishops, counts, &c. In a word, the prodigious variety of the
acts comprehended under the general title of capitularies was
one of the facts upon which I particularly dwelt.
But, however great their variety, it was always from
Charlemagne himself that these acts emanated; he was on
all occasions the author and centre of the legislation. Whether >
old or new laws were in question, whether instructions or pri
vate memoranda, whether questions or answers, his presence
and his power were everywhere felt; he was everywhere
active and sovereign.
Under Charles le Chauve, the case was altogether different.
The diversity of the acts comprised under the title of capitu
laries still subsisted, but a far different diversity had intro
duced itself: that of legislators. It is no longer the emperor
alone who speaks and ordains; it is no longer from him alone
that all things emanate. Among the capitularies which go
under the name of Charles le Chauve, there are several acts
with which he had nothing to do.1 1. Petitions from certain
bishops to the king, requiring him, and that sometimes in a
very imperious tone, to establish order, arid to protect the
church. 2. Counsels addressed by bishops to the king respect
ing the government of his states, and even as to that of the
interior of his palace;2 3. Acts of bishops regulating the
administration of their affairs in the different kingdoms among
themselves, entirely without any reference to the king him-
» Cap. Car Calv. a. 845,856 ; Baluze, ii. 7, 14. « Ib. a. 808; ii., 101.
VOL. II. X

POQ HISTORY OF
self.1 4. Acts of the pope, with respect to the affairs of the
king and of the kingdom.2 Finally, treaties, conventions
entered into between the king and his brothers, or his nephews,
or his ftdeles. So that the sources of the acts constituting
this collection are as various as the nature of the acts them
selves. A most significant fact, which a glance at the title
and first two or three lines of each capitulary fully enables
us to recognise.
2. There is another no less deserving of attention. Not
only does political legislation, under Charles le Chauve,
occupy a larger space than under Charlemagne; it is wholly
different in itself, has no longer the same object in view. The
political laws of Charlemagne have almost always reference to
truly public interests, to the business of general government,
sometimes relating to the conduct of the imperial delegates,
the dukes, counts, centeniers, missi dominici, scabini, &c.;
sometimes to the holding of the assemblies, local or general,
in which justice was administered. The relations of Charle
magne with his beneficiaries and with the church, make their
appearances indeed, but more occasionally and more briefly.
Under Charles le Chauve the case is reversed: provisions
bearing upon administration, properly so called, upon the con
duct of the royal officers, on the holding of assemblies, on
really public business, are rare; the predominant feature, that,
in fact, which constitutes the political legislation of this reign, is
provisions having for their object the arrangements of the king.
with his beneficiaries, and with the church, that is to say, with
the portion of the government, further removed from the public,
nearer to the king himself, whether the other parties in these
cases are ecclesiastics or laymen, it is always class or personal
interests that we find in question; it is always some personal
or class grievance for which redress is sought at the hands of
the king, or some extension of privileges solicited. The re-:
presentations made are more or less powerful, more or less
legitimate, but it is no longer the body of the people that is
in question, nor the government of the people; political legis
lation is no longer a public legislation; it has 'changed its
character; its object is wholly private interests.
1 . It has, at the same time, changed its tone. The legis
lation of Charlemagne is, in general, concise and imperious; it
» Can. Car. Carlo, a. 859 ; ii. 121 « Ib. ». 877 ; ii. 251.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 307
commands or prohibits summarily, without taking up the
time in roundabout phrases and dissertations, and such is
the proper method. Laws are not theses of philosophy nor
specimens of eloquence; it is not their business to main
tain doctrines nor to move the passions; to command, to
forbid, is their purpose, and they always suffer when they
deviate in any way from it. The legislation of Charle
magne, for the most part, went straightforward to this ob
ject. Such was by no means the case with the legislation of
Charles le Chauve. However closely we examine that legis
lation, you can scarce detect either command or prohibition,
amid the heaps of ratiocination, exhortation, advice, entreaty.
The capitularies of Charles le Chauve are not regular laws,
but either sermons addressed to minds sought to be brought
over to particular views, or negotiations with men whose
obedience was only to be hoped for by a certain degree of
obedience in return.
This leads us to the greatest legislative change which is
seen between these two epochs, to the really new character of
the legislation of Charles le Chauve, and of his successors, the
character in which the approach of the feudal system is clearly
shown. I have just said that in the capitularies of the last Carlo
vingians, we find many acts which do not emanate from the
king only, from the central legislative power, and especially
many treaties; between Charles le Chauve, for example,
and his brothers, his nephews, or other princes, in possession
of some portion of the territory of the empire of Charlemagne.
Out of the fifty-one capitularies of Charles le Chauve, there
are nine treaties of this kind. But this is not all; almost the
entire legislation at this epoch is a series of negotiations be
tween separate and independent powers. Under Charle
magne, however various they may have been, whether they
were addressed to the agents of power or to its subjects, all the
acts bore the character of a superior who commands inferiors.
Social and political unity was strongly marked on it. Under
Charles le Chauve, the unity disappeared; it is evidently no
longer a general power which commands; it is a special power
which treats with other powers, a government which defends
its teiritory and rights against other governments. Out of
the £29 articles which the capitularies of Charles le Chauve
x2

308 HISTORY OF
contain, more than a hundred have this appearance; legisla
tion has become diplomacy. Now what is the dominant cha
racteristic of the feudal society? Precisely the facts which
we here observe; petty states, petty governments, consider
ing themselves each independent in its territory, or nearly
so, quarrel, dispute, reciprocally send ambassadors, hold con
ferences, form conventions. During a long period the rela
tions of royalty with the feudal lords dispersed throughout the
French territory are nothing else; its laws, its charters, are
treaties; its progress is concession or acquisition. This is
what distinguishes, what characterises feudal society when
considered in its whole. Now, under the last Carlovingians,
this characteristic already appears in the laws : there is no
longer any legislation, properly so called: there is diplomacy
between independent states.
You see the history of legislation leads us to the same
results to which history, properly so called, conducted us.
We have just put to laws the corresponding question to
that which we have addressed to events; the answer is the
same: we have discovered not only the same tendency, but
the same progression in the development of facts so different.
This, if I do not deceive myself, is the best confirmation of
our view of the dismemberment of the empire of the Carlo
vingians. We have had reason to lay aside as incomplete
that which is drawn from the diversity of races, for you see
it is contradictory to the history of legislation ; from the ninth
to the eleventh century, the diversity of races, instead of
exercising any more empire over laws, ceased to be a domi
nant principle, and the source of variety: the laws vary not
according to races, but according to classes and to places.
The diversity of races, then, will never explain the history
of the legislation at this epoch, whilst the progressive develop
ment of the feudal society, the necessary formation of a
multitude of petty states and petty powers, — one sole state
and one sole power having become impossible — alike ac
counts for the vicissitudes of legislation and the vicissitudes
of society
I will go no further into the history of the laws under the
Carlovingians. I should find there the texts for many
curious observations; but they would require too much detail,
and would carry us further than we have time to go. In our

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 309
next lecture we will examine the history of the church, ot
religious society at the same epoch; and then see if it will
give us results analogous to those which have been fur
nished us by the history of civil society. Before, however,
I close this lecture, I will place, before you a particular fact
which did not come naturally within the. scope of the con
siderations I have been suggesting to you, but which yet it
is desirable that you should be acquainted with. This is the
distribution of the missi dominici, sent throughout the king
dom by Charles le Chauve in 853, the only year in reference
to which the details of this distribution have come down to
us. France was then divided into eighty-six districts or ter
ritorial circumscriptions. The coincidence of this number
with that of our present department, though very singular,
is pure matter of chance; some of these eighty-six districts
are described as comprehending several counties. They
were divided among twelve companies of missi, whose total
number was forty-three. We have their names and their
quality. Of the forty-three, thirteen were bishops, five abbots,
and twenty -five laymen, without any particular title; at the
head of each mission was a bishop ; at least a bishop occurs
first in each list.
The consequences to be deduced from this table are un
important, but the document is a curious one in itself.

310 HISTORY OF

TWENTY-SIXTH LECTURE.

Object of the lecture — Internal history of the Gallo-Frankish church, from
tl« middle of the 8th century to the end of the 10th — Anarchy which
pervaded it in the first half of the 8th century — Twofold principle of
reform — The reformation is actually undertaken by the first Carlovin
gians : 1. By the civil power ; 2. By the ecclesiastical power — Special
reforms — Order of canons — Its origin and progress — Reformation of the
monastic orders by Saint Benedict d'Aniane — They change character —
Preponderance of the temporal power in the Gallo-Frankish church at
this epoch — Proofs — Still the church progresses towards its future pre
ponderance — But it is not to the profit of its own government, of the
bishops of France, that this progress is to turn.
I have already given the history of the Gallo-Frankish
church up to the accession of the Carlovingians, towards the
middle of the eighth century. I then considered it under the
two points of view to which all questions which may arise ,
with regard to a religious society attach themselves; on the
one hand, without, in its relations with the civil society, with
the state; on the other, within, in its organization and in
ternal government. And not only the church in general, but
those two distinct elements, the priests and the monks, the
secular clergy and the regular clergy, have been the subject
of a twofold inquiry.1
It conducted us, you will remember, to this result — that at
the commencement of the eighth century, the Gallo-Frankish
church was a prey to an ever-increasing anarchy. Ex
ternally, far from simplifying and fixing itself, its relations
with the state became more and more confused, disordered,
1 See the 19th Lecture.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 311
uncertain; the spiritual power and the temporal power " lived
from day to day without principles, without fixed con
ditions; they encountered everywhere, running against each
other, confounding, disputing the means of action, struggling
and meeting in darkness and at chance." x Internally,
in its own government, the situation of the church was no
better — episcopacy had entirely usurped it ; the inferior
clergy in vain struggled to maintain some rights, to assure
themselves some guarantees. And, after having usurped
everything, the episcopal aristocracy itself fell into a power
less anarchy: scarcely were there any more councils, scarcely
any more metropolitan power; egoism penetrated there as in
civil society; each bishop governed his diocese at his will —
despotic towards his inferiors, independent of his superiors
and his equals. The monasteries presented almost the same
phenomena. So that, taking all things together, a little
before the middle of the eighth century, that which domi
nated in the Heart of the church, as in the state, in Frankisk-
Gaul, was disorganization.
Still, at the same time that we recognised this fact, we
caught a glimpse on the two banks of the Rhine, both for
church and for state, of the first glimmering of another
destiny. There were growing up together, on the one hand,
that race of the Pepins which was to give Frankish-Gaul new
masters; on the other, that Germanic church which, regularly
and strongly organised under the influence of papacy, might
serve for the reform of the other churches in the west, as a
fulcrum and model.
It so, in fact, happened. You have seen, under the first
Carlovingians, order and life re-enter into civil government:
we are about to be present at the same fact in the church, at
the same epoch, and from the same causes.
There is no need of demonstration; it breaks forth on all
sides. From Pepin le Bref to Louis le Debonnaire, it is im
possible not to be struck with the movement of reform which
speaks out and propagates itself in the Gallo-Frankish church.
Activity and rule appear in it at the same time. The temporal
government labours with all its strength to introduce them.
Pepin and Charlemagne commenced by drawing the episcopacy
out of the anarchy and indolence into which it had fallen; they
1 See the 12th Lecture

312

HISTORY OV

restored the power of the metropolitans, frequently assembled
the bishops, occupied themselves with giving back to ecclesias
tical government its entirety and regularity. Towards 747, at
the request of Pepin, pope Zachary sends a collection of canons
to him. In 774, Adrian I. sends a second, much more complete,
to Charlemagne: and Charlemagne does not confine himself to
circulating these codes of ecclesiastical discipline; he carefully
watches over their observation; he causes new canons to be
decreed; religious administration is evidently one of the
principal affairs of his government. He succeeded in re-
awaking in the church that general, regular activity which so
long since had almost died away. Twenty councils only
were held in the seventh century, and only seven in the first
half of the eighth. Dating from Pepin, they once more
became frequent. The following is a table of those which
met under the Carlo vingian race:

Kings.

Date of acces
sion and death.

Number of
Councils.

Pepin leBref 
Charlemagne 
Louis le Debonnaire ...
Charles le Chauve ...
From the death ofl
Charles le Chauve, 1
to the accession off
Hugh Capet ...)

752—768 768— S14
814—840840—877 877—987

14
3329 6956

in 16 years.
in 46 years.
in 26 years.
in 37 years.
in 110 years.

201

in 235 years.

This fact alone attests the return of activity and life into
ecclesiastical society; and this activity did not content itself
with holding councils, with regulating the immediate and
special affairs of the clergy; it extended itself to the wants of
religious society in general; of all the Christian people, in the
future as in the present. This was the time of the definitive
improvement of the liturgy; writings upon the ecclesiastical *
offices, their celebration, their history abound ; and rules
establish themselves in the train of these treatises. It is also

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 313
the time when the greater part of the penitentials, opcodes of
ecclesiastical punishment, were drawn up, which regulated
the relation between sins and penances ; they often vary
from diocese to diocese, and appear in great number before
any had acquired the least extended authority. Then, also,
homiliaries or collections of sermons for the use of priests and
the faithful, were multiplied. In a word, everything at this
epoch gives testimony of a great ardour for labour and reform,
a reform which, whether pursued by the civil power, which
concurred very actively in the government of the church, or by
the church itself, was applied to re-establish rule and progress
in its own bosom.
Two special reformations, undertaken and accomplished by
solated individuals, the formation of the order of canons, and
the re-establishment of rule among the monks, attest the same
movement, and powerfully contributed to accelerate it.
About the year 760, Chrodegand, bishop of Metz, struck
with the disorder which pervaded the secular clergy, and
with the difficulty of governing the scattered priests, living
isolately and each in his own fashion, undertook to subject
those living in bis episcopal diocese to an uniform rule, to
make them live in common — in fact, to constitute of them a
society analogous to that of monasteries. Thus arose the
constitution of canons; the institutions of the times were its
occasion, the monastic order its model. Chrodegand applied
himself to render the assimilation as complete as he could.
The rule, in thirty-four articles, which he gave to the first
canons is almost literally borrowed from the rule of Saint
Benedict. Labours, relaxations, duties, the whole employ
ment of the time of the canons, are regulated in it; meals
' are to be taken in common, clothing to be uniform. It is
true, a fundamental difference exists between the two orders;
the canons may possess private property, while, with the
monks, the monastery alone is possessed. But in the details
of life the resemblance is minute, and it has evidently been
sought. The institution must have answered to the wants of the
age, for it was rapidly propagated. Many bishops imitated
Chrodegand ; the organization of the clergy of episcopal
oiiurches into chapters became general; in 785, 789, 802, 813,
we find the civil and ecclesiastical power eagerly sanctioning

314 HISTORY OF
iti At length, in 826, Louis le Debonnaire, in a council held
at Aix-la-Chapelle, had a rule of canons drawn up in 145
articles, which reproduced and extended that of Chrodegand,
and he sent it to all the metropolitans of his kingdom, in
order that' it should everywhere be applied, and become the
uniform discipline of churches.
It seems that this discipline encountered much resistance in
the secular clergy; it deprived them of the disorderly liberty
which they had so long enjoyed; it imposed an uniform and
rather rough yoke upon them. But a circumstance to which
most historians have paid but too little attention, almost every
where removed these obstacles, and powerfully favoured the
extension of the new order.
I have already observed,1 that the possessions of the church
in each diocese were at the disposition of the bishop, who
administered and distributed her revenues almost alone and
arbitrarily; so that the simple priests, and not only the priests
dispersed through the country districts, but those of the epis
copal city, of the cathedral church itself, depended entirely
on the bishop for their support, for the first and most impe
rious wants of life. And as a great number of bishops gave
themselves up to infinite disorders, and spent, on their own
account, the revenues of the church, the existence of the
priests was very miserable and precarious ; poverty, even
distress, was often their condition.
The evil was so real, that when many bishops wished to
imitate what had been done by the bishop of Metz to unite
the priests of their cathedral in the same edifice, and make
them live in common, the temporal and spiritual powers
thought it their duty to interfere, in order to prevent this
being done, unless there were means of subsistence, a secured
livelihood for the new establishment. The council of Mayence
ordered, in 813, that the reform should be carried out, " where
there were the means;" and that of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 816,
enjoined bishops in the admission of canons to regulate them
selves according to the revenues of the church.
But this difficulty did not last long. When the people
saw priests thus confined, disciplined, and leading a life as
regular and severe as the monks, it felt a redoubled respect
1 13th Lecture

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 315
and fervour for them. Gifts flowed to chapters as well as to
monasteries. Never, perhaps, had so many and so well-
endowed churches been founded; most of the cathedrals were
rapidly enriched, and many donations were especially addressed
to the canons, now become an object of edification and admi
ration. Simple priests thus escaped, in many places, from the
state of distress and dependence into which they had been
cast; the secular clergy became favourable to the new order,
although it bore its yoke ; and the order of canons soon
played a very important part in the movement of reformation
of the church at this epoch.
At the same time, a new reformation of monks was accom
plished, by the influence of a man who took the name of their
first reformer in the west, Saint Benedict dAniane.
Benedict was not his original name; it is not known what
that was; he was a Goth by race, and was born in 751, in
the diocese of Maguelonne, in Septimania, of which his father
was count. Sent in his childhood to the court of Pepin-le-Bref,
he was page, -cup-bearer, warrior, and took part in many ex
peditions of Charlemagne. In 774, without any details
remaining to us concerning the adventures of his lay life, we
find he has renounced it, become a monk in the abbey of
Saint Seine, the foundation of which I have already recounted.1
There he soon became the most respected of the monks; so
much was he respected, that the abbot being dead, they
wished to confer the title upon him: a singular resemblance,
you perceive, between his destiny and that of the great re
former, whom he had adopted as a model. As Saint Benedict
of Nursia at first opposed the wishes of the monks of Vicovaro,
Benedict dAniane repelled those of the monks of Saint Seine:
they were not, he said, capable of supporting the severe rule
which he wished to establish; they would not be long before
they rose up against him. The monks insisted; but Benedict,
more obstinate than his patron, resolved to quit the abbey.
About the year 780 he returned into southern Gaul, and,
still faithful to the example of Saint Benedict, he became a
hermit on the borders of a small stream, the Aniane, in the
diocese of Maguelonne. His celebrity accompanied him, in
creased even, in his hermitage; a crowd of companions, already
1 17th Lecture

3 IS HISTORY OF
monks, or eager to become so, assembled around him, and lie
soon found himself obliged to build a large monastery, where
he put in force the reformation which he proposed, in all its
rigour. This reformation was, at bottom, but a return to the primi
tive rule of Saint Benedict, concerning which I spoke to you
in detail,1 and which the relaxation of discipline, in most
monasteries, had caused to be abandoned. Benedict dAniane
published it anew, at the same time collecting the various
rules given to monasteries from that up to his own day;
he formed of them the codex regularum, a regular body of
law for the monastic society, and circulated it in Frankish
Gaul. Not content with thus placing the law before the eyes
of those who were to obey it, he undertook the practical
reform of monasteries; and, either in his own person, or by
disciples of his choice, in point of fact, accomplished it in
those of Gellon in Languedoc, of ITsle Barbe, near Lyons, of
Saint Savin in Poitou, of Cormery in Touraine, of Massay in
Berry, of Saint Mesmin near Orleans, of Marmunster in
Alsace, and many others.
So great a work soon attracted the consideration of the
people and of Charlemagne to its author. In 794, we see
Benedict seated at the council of Francfort, and there taking
part in the condemnation of the heresy of the Adoptians, in
the person of Felix, bishop of Urgel. In 799, by order of
Charlemagne, he repaired to Urgel, with archbishop Leidrade,
to preach to the heretics. Lastly, in 815, Louis le Debonnaire
called him near his person, made him abbot of a large monas
tery, which he had just founded at Inde, in the vicinity of
Aix-la-Chapelle, and in 817, Benedict presided at the special
assembly, held at Aix-la-Chapelle, for the reformation of
monastic orders, an assembly entirely composed of monks and
abbots', and the convocation of which he probably brought
about. From this assembly there went forth a great capitulary,
destined to accomplish, in a general manner, and by the in
strumentality of the public power, that reformation which
Benedict followed in detail so long ago; it contains eighty
articles, and should be looked upon as the completion anil
1 14th Lecture.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 317
commentary of the rule of Saint Benedict. But the commen
tary differs greatly from the text, and here is shown, in the
monastic mind, a revolution which it is necessary for us to
characterize. It will be recollected how, in analysing the rule of Saint
Benedict, we found it, despite the severe enthusiasm of which
it is the fruit, to be feeling, even liberal — that is to say, foreign
to all minute details, to all narrow views; humane and mode
rate with regard to practical life, in the heart of a very rigid
general thought. Utterly different is the character of the
additional rule which the capitulary of 817 contains. It seems,
at first, to have no other object than that of again putting
the primitive rule in vigour. The three first articles impose
upon every abbot the obligation of re-perusing it upon re
entering his monastery, and of penetrating thoroughly into
its purpose; upon every monk, that of learning it by heart.
But to this succeeds a legislation most foreign to the text and
spirit of the ancient law ; a legislation overcharged with
puerile details, with minute forms and vain observances; the
following are some examples:
" Let the monks not shave during Lent, unless it be Holy
Saturday. During the rest of the year, let them shave once
a fortnight, and at the octave of Easter."1
" Let the bath be used according to the directions of the
prior."2 " Let them not eat poultry either within or without the
monastery, except by reason of sickness; let no bishops order
monks to eat poultry. At Christmas and at Easter let them
eat poultry for four days, if there be any; if not, they shall
not demand it as their due."3
" Let them eat no fruit nor salad, except with their other
food."* " Let the length of the hood be two cubits."5
" Let his portion of meat and drink be given separately to
each brother, and let no one give any of his own* share to
another."6 " Let no fixed time be observed for bleeding, but let every
one be bled according as he needs it; and at such times have
gome especial indulgence as to eating and drinking."7
1 Art. 6. 2 Art. 7. 3 8, 9, 78. 4 Art. 10.
« Art. 21. « Art. 66. ' Ait. 11.

318 HISTORY OF
And so on, of eighty-one articles, twenty-one are of a kind
entirely foreign to all religious sentiment, to all moral tendency;
and contain nothing but miserable prescriptions of this kind.
Assuredly, nothing less resembled that enthusiasm, that
gravity, with which the primitive rule is marked; nothing
more clearly attests the decay of the monastic mind, and its
rapid tendency towards a miserable superstition. Benedict
d' Aniane, like Benedict of Nursia, wished to reform the monas
teries; but the reformation of the sixth century was at once
extensive and sublime; it addressed itself to what was strong
in human nature: that of the ninth century was puerile, in
ferior, and addressed itself to what was weak and servile in
man. Such, in point of fact, is the general character of the
monastic order from this epoch, despite numerous attempts to
lead it back towards its source; it lost its grandeur, its first
ardour, and remained laden with those puerilities, those
ridiculous details, which humiliate men, even when they sub
mit to them with a good intention.
Puerile or grave, monastic or secular, all this reformation
of the Gallo-Frankish church was accomplished under the
inspection and with the concurrence of the temporal power.
In truth, from Pepin le Bref to Louis le Debonnaire, it is
the temporal power, king or emperor, which governs the
church, and effects all that I have just placed before you.
The proofs of this are evident.
1 . All the canons, all the measures relative to the church
at this epoch, are published under the name of the temporal
power; it is that which speaks, which orders, which acts. To
be convinced of this, one need only open the acts of the
councils. 2. These acts, and many other monuments, even formally
proclaim that it is to the civil power that the ordering of
such things belongs, and that the church lives and acts under
its authority. The canons of the council of Aries, held under
Charlemagne, in 813, terminate as follows : —
" We have briefly enumerated the things which seem to us
to require reformation, and we have decided that we shall
present them to the lord emperor, invoking his clemency, to
the end that if anything be wanting to his work, his prudence
may supply it; that if tiiere be anything contrary to reason,
is judgment may correct it; that if anvthing be wisely

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 319
ordered, his support, with the aid of the Divine goodness,
may cause it to be carried into effect."1
We likewise read in the preface of the acts of the council
of Mayence, also held in 813:
" Above all things, we have need of your aid, and of your
holy doctrine, to warn us, and instruct us with benevolence;
and if what we have drawn up below in some articles, appear
worthy to you, let your authority confirm them; if anything
appear to you to require correction, let your imperial grandeur
order its correction."2
What texts can be clearer?
3. The capitularies of Charlemagne likewise prove at every
step, that the government of the church was one of his prin
cipal affairs; a few articles, taken promiscuously, will show
with what attention he occupied himself with it.
" Our missi are to inquire whether there be any cause of
complaint against a bishop, an abbot, an abbess, a count, or
any other magistrate whatsoever, and inform us thereof."3
" Let them' examine if the bishops and the other priests
live according to the canonical institution, and whether they
know and properly observe the canons; whether the abbots
live according to rule and canonically, and whether they
thoroughly know the canons; if in monasteries the monks
live according to rule; if in nunneries they live according to
rule, and what is the extent of the establishment."4
" Let them examine the monasteries and nunneries in each
city; let them see how the churches are kept up or repaired,
both as regards the edifices themselves and their ornaments;
let them carefully inform themselves of the manners of each,
and of what has been done with regard to what is ordered
concerning readings, the chaunting, and all which concerns
the ecclesiastical discipline."5
" If any of the abbots, priests, deacons, he, do not obey
his bishop, let them go before the metropolitan, and let him
decide the business with his suffragans; and if there is any
thing which the metropolitan bishop cannot reform or settle,
let the accusers and the accused come to us with the letters
i Con. Labbe, vol. vii., col. 1238. 2 Ibid. 1241.
» 3rd Cap. a. 789, § 11 ; Bal. vol. i. col. 244.
« 2nd Cap. a. 802, § 2—5 ; vol. i. col. 375.
» 5th Cap. a. 806. § 4, vol i. col. 403.

320 HISTORY OF
of the metropolitan, that we may know the truth of the
thing."1 " Let the bishops, abbots, counts, and all the powerful men,
if they have between them any dispute and cannot reconcile
themselves, come into our presence."2
This is assuredly a very direct and active intervention.
Charlemagne did not govern civil affairs more immediately.
4. He exercised, besides, a very efficacious influence, al
though indirect; he nominated bishops. We read, indeed, in
his capitularies, the re-establishment of the election of bishops
by the clergy and the people, according to the primitive
custom and the legal right of the church:
" Not being ignorant of the sacred canons, " says he, " and
to the end that in the name of God the holy church may
freely enjoy her privileges, we have given our assent that the
bishops be elected, according to the canonical statutes, by the
choice of the clergy and the people, in the diocese itself, with
out any regard to persons or presents, by the merit only of
their life and wisdom; and to the end that they may be com
pletely able to direct those who are subject to them."3
But the fact continued to be but little in accordance with
this right; both after and before this capitulary, Charlemagne.
almost always nominated the bishops; and even- after his
death, under his feeblest successors, the intervention of
royalty in such matters was allowed by the most jealous of
its rivals. In 853, pope Leo IV. wrote to the emperor
Lothaire: " We supplicate your mansuetude to give the government
of this church to Colonna, an humble deacon, to the end, that
having received your permission, we may, with the aid of
God, consecrate him bishop. If it do not seem well to you that
he be bishop of this church, let your serenity confer upon him
that of Tusculum, which is now without a shepherd." 4
In 879, pope John VIII. made a similar request to Carlo-
man, in reference to the church of Verceil.5
The chronicles of the time are, besides, full of particular
facts which can leave no doubt upon the subject, and prove
1 Cap. a. 794, § 4, vol. i. col. 264.
2 3rd Cap. a. 812, § 2. 3 1st Cap. a. 803, § 2, vol. i. col. 379.
4 Gratian. Decret. p. ii. dist. 63, c. 16.
• Gieseler, Manual of Eccles. Hist., vol. ii. p. 44, note 9.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 321
that the choice of bishops was the occasion, on the part of
the candidates, of a multitude of intrigues; on the part of the
prince himself, of partiality, or a singular indifference. Two
anecdotes, derived from the chronicle of the monk of Saint
Gall, (a monument more important and more instructive than
the pedantry of scholars is willing to believe), are remarkable
examples of it: I shall give them literally.
" It is known that Charlemagne brought up, in the school
of the palace, many young men whose learning and talent he
afterwards employed.
" He made one of these pupils, who was poor, the chief and
writer of his chapel  One day, when they announced
the death of a certain bishop to the most prudent Charles, he
asked if this prelate had sent before him into the other world
any of his property and of the fruit of his labours.
" ' Not more than two pounds of silver, sire,' answered the
messenger. The young man in question, unable to contain
within his breast the vivacity of his spirit, cried, in spite of
himself, in the presence of the king: ' What a light viaticum
for a journey so great, and of so long duration.'
" After deliberating some minutes within himself, Charles,
the most prudent of men, said to the young priest: ' What
sayst thou? were I to give thee this bishopric, wouldst thou
be careful to make more considerable provision for this long
journey ?' The other hastening to devour these wise words,
as grapes ripe before their time falling into his half-open
mouth, threw himself at the feet of his master, and answered •
' Lord, it is for the will of God and your power to decide'
" ' Conceal thyself,' said the king, ' behind the curtain, and
thou shalt learn what rivals thou hast for this honourable
post.' When the death of the bishop was known, the officers
of the palace, always ready to watch the misfortune, or, at
all events, the death of another, impatient of all delay, and
each with the other, set to work the favourites of the em
peror in order to obtain the bishopric. But he, firm in his
design, refused them all, saying that he would not break his
word to the young man. At last queen Hildegarde sent
first the great men of the kingdom, and then came herself, to
solicit the bishopric for her own chaplain. The king received
her request with the most gracious air, assured her he could
not, and wished not to refuse her anything, but added, that
vol. n. Y

322 HISTORY OF
he could not pardon himself, if lie were to deceive his
young priest. In the manner of all women, when they think
to make their desires and ideas predominant over the will of
their husbands, the queen, dissimulating her rage, softened her
naturally strong voice, and endeavouring to mollify, by caress
ing manners, the immovable soul of Charles, said to him:
' Dear prince, sire, why throw away this bishopric by giving
it to such a child? I conjure you, my amiable master — you,
my glory and my support, grant it to my chaplain, your de
voted servant.' At these words the young man, whom Charles
had enjoined to place himself behind the curtain, near which
he himself was seated, and to hear the prayers which each
made, cried in a lamentable tone, but without quitting the
curtain which surrounded him: " Lord king, hold firm; suffer
no one to tear from thy hands the power given thee by God.'
Then this prince, the courageous lover and friend of truth,
ordered his priest to show himself, and said to him: ' Beceive
this bishopric, but take the utmost care to send before me,
and before thyself, into the other world, great alms, and a
good viaticum, for the long journey, from which no one
returns.' "
This is the second.
" Another prelate was dead. Charles gave the succession
to a certain young man. He, all content, prepared to set out.
His servants brought him, as suited the episcopal gravity, a
horse of a very quiet sort, and placed a stool for him to get
into his saddle. Indignant that they should treat him as he
were infirm, he sprang from the ground on to the horse so
energetically, that it was with difficulty he could keep his
seat, and not fall over the other side. The king, who saw
what passed from the balustrade of the palace, had this man
called to him and said: "My brave man, thou art lively,
agile, quick, and thou hast a strong foot. The tranquillity of
our empire is, as thou knowest, incessantly troubled by a
multitude of wars; we have need of such a priest as thou iu
our sujte: remain, then, to be the companion of our fatigues,
since thou canst mount thy horse so freely."1
I might cite many facts of this kind. This was assuredly
treating the episcopacy and the church without ceremony.
1 Deeds and Exploits of Charlemagne the Great, by a Monk of Saiiit
Gall ; vol. iii. p. 181, of my Collection.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 323
5. Not only did the Carlovingians thus dispose of the
bishoprics, but they often appropriated a portion of their
domains to themselves. Every one knows what Charles
Martel did in this way. But it is less generally known that
this fact was repeated many times under the princes of his
race, even the most devoted and submissive to the church.
In 743, Carloman, brother of Pepin le Bref, decreed the
following capitulary:
" We have resolved, with the counsel of the servants of
God and the Christian people, because of the wars and the
invasions of other neighbouring nations which menace us, to
take for a while, and by way of usufruct, some portion of the
ecclesiastical domains, and to keep them, with the permission
of God, for the maintenance of our army, on the condition
that every year there shall be paid to the proprietary church
or monastery, a sol — that is to say, twelve deniers, for each
farm; and that if he to whom the capital belongs dies, the
church is to retake possession of it; and if necessity re
quires, or the prince orders it, this possession shall be
renewed."1 We read also in a capitulary of Louis le Debonnaire, in
823: " We order the abbots and laymen to have observed in the
monasteries which they hold from our gift, and according to
the counsels of the bishops, all which relates to the religious
life of monks, canons, &c."2
There were, then, laymen who received from the emperor
certain monasteries in the way of benefices. Abbots of this
kind were still more numerous under Charles le Chauve;
they had the name of Abbacomites.
Doubtless the church was constantly protesting; and, upon
the whole this fact passed, and properly passed, for an attack
on her rights, a violent usurpation. Yet it was so frequent,
so open, that an idea of some kind of royal right was almost
attached to it; and the church more than once seemed to
acknowledge, that in extreme need, a portion of her property
might be thus temporarily applied to the service of the state.
6. It was not only with ecclesiastical administration and
1 2 Cap. Carlom. a. 743 ; Bal. vol. i. col. 149.
* Cap. Lud. p. a. 823, § 8 ; vol. i. col. 635.
y2

324 HISTORY OF
discipline that the temporal power occupied itself at this
period. It interfered even in matters of dogma, and they
were governed in its name. Three questions of this kind
were raised in the reign of Charlemagne. I shall merely
point them out. 1. The question of the worship of images,
raised in the west by a canon of the second council of Nice,
in 787. The Gallo-Frankish church rejected this worship,
and all that seemed to tend to it. A special work, drawn up
by order of Charlemagne, probably by Alcuin, entitled, Libri
Carolini, was published against it. The favour given by the
popes to this doctrine did not operate upon the Frankish
bishops nor their master, and, in 794, the council of Frank
fort formally condemned it. 2. The heresy of the Adoptians
concerning the nature of Jesus Christ, of which I have already
spoken, and which Charlemagne also formally condemned in
three successive councils, at Batisbon, in 792, at Frankfort in
794, and at Aix-la-Chapelle, in 799. 3. The question of an
addition to the symbol as to the procession of the host.
These, assuredly, are matters entirely foreign to the external
government of the church — they are purely dogmatical. They
were not the less regulated, if not by the civil power itself,
at least under its authority, and with its intervention.
It may, therefore, be affirmed, without discussing the
question of right, without examining whether it be good or
ill that it should be thus, that at tiiis epoch, directly or
indirectly, the temporal power governed the church. The
situation of Charlemagne in this respect was almost exactly
the same as that of the king of England in the English
church. In England, also, the civil assembly, or parliament,
and the ecclesiastical assembly; or convocation, were long
distinct; and neither one nor the other decided upon, or could
do anything without the sanction of royalty. Whether the
matter in hand was a council or a champ de mai, a dogma or
a proclamation of war, Charlemagne equally presided at it:
in neither case did they think of dispensing with him.
But at the same time that they governed the church, and
for the very reason that they did not in any way fear her
independence, the first Carlovingians conferred immense
advantages on her, and provided the most solid foundations
for her future power.
1 . It was by their support that the tithe was definitively

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 325
and generally established. You have seen that the church,
relying upon the Hebrew customs, had at various different
times, but without any great success, attempted to appro
priate this rich revenue to herself. Charlemagne gave to
the tithe the aid not only of his laws but of his indefatigable
will. It was under his reign that it truly took root in the
legislation and practice of the west.
2. He also extended the jurisdiction of the clergy. We
read in one of his capitulations: —
" We will that neither abbots, priests, deacons, nor under-
deacons, nor any priests, be cited or taken before public or j
regular judges, for deeds concerning their person: let them
be judged by their bishop, and so let justice be done
them. If any complaint be carried against them before the
judge concerning the domains of the church or their own
property, let the judge send the complaint with one of his
own messengers to the bishop, in order that he may do
justice by the intervention of his advocate; and if there arise
between them any dispute which they cannot or will not
settle themselves, let the cause be carried before the court or
the judge, by the advocate whom the law gives the bishop,
and let it there be decided according to the law, respect
being always paid to what has just been said with reference to
the person of the priest."1
Whenever he had any purpose in interfering in the dis
putes of the bishops, whether among themselves or between
them and the laymen, he made no hesitation in doing so.
But in general, as the ecclesiastical jurisdiction was more
enlightened and regular, he was more inclined to extend
than to restrict it; and despite the submission of the bishops
during his reign, they drew from it at a later period many
useful precedents in favour of their independence.
3. In the civil order also, especially in reference to mar
riages and wills, the power of the clergy greatly increased at
this period. I have already pointed out the cause from which
it drew this important attribute. I have shown how, among
the barbarians, the family was unfixed, unstable, and how it
was the interest of a regular government to introduce more
order and fixedness into it. It was more especially for this
' Cap. Car. M. A. 801, § 39. vol. i cap. 355.

326 HISTORY OF
reason that all questions of parentage, marriage, or wills,
came under the ecclesiastical jurisdiction; and the church,
by penetrating into the interior of families, acquired an
enormous power.
4. Lastly, Charlemagne gave up to each church, under
the name of mansus ecclesiasticus, a farm free from all kinds
of charges and taxes; an important concession at an epoch
when rural property furnished almost all the public expen
diture. Despite her momentary servitude, the church assuredly
*bad here numerous fertile principles of independence and
power. These were not long in developing themselves.
During the early years of the reign of Louis le Debonnaire,
the order of things established by Charlemagne continues, or
nearly so: it is still the emperor who governs, who, at least,
appears to govern the church. But everything soon changes,
and the church in her turn governs the emperor. I shall
not enter with any detail into this subject. Every one
knows that the usurpation of power by the clergy is the
dominant characteristic of the reigns of Louis le Debonnaire
and Charles le Chauve, up to the time when all general
society, all central government, disappeared to give place to
the feudal system. The facts are present to all minds. I
shall quote but one text, possibly more clear than all the
facts put together. This is Art. 2 of the accusation brought
the 14th of June, 859, before the council of Toul, by Charles
le Chauve, against Wenilon, archbishop of Sens, who had
separated from him to ally himself with his enemies. This
denunciation of a bishop by a king seems an act of the
resistance and independence of royalty; it is expressed in
the following terms:
" By his election, and that of the other bishops, and with
the will, consent, and acclamations of all the faithful of our
kingdom, Wenilon, in his own diocese, in the city of Orleans,
in the cathedral of Saint Croix, in presence of the other
archbishops and bishops, consecrated me king, according to
the ecclesiastical custom; and in calling me to reign, he
anointed me with the holy oil, gave me the royal diadem and
sceptre, and led me to the throne. After this consecration,
I could not be cast from the throne, nor supplanted by any
one — at least, not without having been heard and judged by

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 327
the bishops, by whose ministry I was consecrated king, and
who have been, named the throne of God. God rests upon
them, and it is through them that he decrees his judgments.
I have always been, and am at present ready to submit my
self to their paternal corrections, and to their castigatory
judgments."1 Truly the revolution which, in Frankish Gaul, had raised
the priesthood above the empire, cannot be proved by a less
suspicious and more formal testimony.
It was to the profit of the GaUo-Frankish episcopacy that
this revolution seemed to be brought about; it was by the
bishops that the temporal power was thus acquired and thus
treated. But this sovereignty of the national church was
not to subsist long, and it was not to the profit of the bishops
that the church had overcome the state. It will be recol
lected that in seeking amidst the dissolution which invaded
Gaul under the last Morovingians, what principles of civil
and ecclesiastical regeneration became visible — that it was
beyond the Alps, at Rome, that the principle of ecclesiastical
regeneration appeared to us.2 There, in fact, was developed
the power called upon to rule the church in general, and
the Gallo-Frankish church in particular. It was in the
hands of the papacy, not of the episcopacy, that the empire
definitively fell. In the next lecture I shall place before
you the history of the relations between- the Gallo-Frankish
church and papacy during this epoch, and you will see that
it was papacy that took possession of the sovereignty on the
decay of the Carlovingians.
Bal., vol. ii. col. 133. * 19th Lecture.

323 HISTORY OP

TWENTY-SEVENTH LECTURE.

History of papacy — Peculiar situation of the city of Eome — Eelationsof th;
popes about the middle of the eighth century, with the Italian, Spanish,
Anglo-Saxon, Gallo-Frankish, and Germanic churches — Their alliance
with the early Carlovingians — Advantages which they drew from it —
Donation of Pepin and of Charlemagne — Sovereignty of the Carlovingian
emperors over the popes — Uncertainty of the ideas, and incoherency of
the facts concerning the rights of papacy — It increases more and more
in minds — It apparently acquires a legal title — False decretals — Nicho
las I. — His character — Affair of the marriage of Lothaire and of Teutberge
Affair of Ehotarde, bishop of Soissons — Triumph of papacy : 1. Over
temporal sovereigns ; 2. Over national churches — Its decided prepon
derance in the west.
I have shown that the Gallo-Frankish church was raised
by the first Carlovingians, from the state of impotence and
anarchy into which it had fallen. We have seen it re-enter
into order and activity; we have seen this revolution brought
about by the concurrence and under the authority of the
temporal power. Pepin, Charlemagne, and even Louis le
Debonnaire, on his accession, actually governed the Gallo-
Frankish church. This state of things was of short duration.
I have pointed out with what rapidity the spiritual power
passed from docility to independence, from independence to
sovereignty; I have shown its pretensions already acknow
ledged by the temporal power itself, particularly by Charles le
Chauve. It was to the profit of the Gallo-Frankish episcopacy
that this change was brought about. I announced that it
would not long enjoy it, that a third power, the papacy, would
soon take their scarcely acquired supremacy from the national
bishops. It is with this fact — that is to say, with the history
of papacy, from the eighth to the tenth century, especially ill

Ill

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 329
its relations with the Gallo-Frankish church, that we have to
occupy ourselves at present.
There is a primitive fact with regard to the development
of papacy in Europe, which, I think, has never been taken
sufficiently into account. Not only was Rome always the
most important city in the west; not only did the recollections
of its ancient grandeur tend to the good of the bishop, who,
without as yet reigning, was already the chief of its people;
but Rome also had a particular advantage in the west,
that of never remaining in the hands of the Barbarians,
Heruli, Goths, Vandals, or others : they had many times
taken and pillaged it — they never long retained possession of
it. Alone, among all the great western cities, and whether
as united to the empire of the west, or as independent, it
never passed under the German yoke: alone it remained
Roman, after the ruin of the Roman empire.
It happened, without premeditation, without labour, by the
sole nature of its situation, that Rome found herself, morally
at least, at the head of the ancient population disseminated
throughout the new Western States. In this struggle, at
first public, afterwards secret, but for a long period so active —
this struggle of the conquered against the conquerors — the
attention of the Gallo-Romans, of the Hispano-Romans, of all
the cities desolated by their barbarous conquerors, naturally
turned towards Rome, so long their sovereign, and now the
only living wreck of the ancient society, alone exempt from
new masters, alone capable of still preserving the respected
traditions of the people that they still governed. For this
reason, Rome was a name dear to the whole mass of the
population in the west, the centre of recollections and ideas,
the image of all which remained of the Roman world. It was
under the influence of this fact that papacy took rise; it was,
so to speak, its cradle; it placed it in its very origin at the
head of nations; it rendered it a kind of national power for
the race of the conquered.
Let us now see what was its situation with regard to the
principal churches of the west, at the middle of the eighth
century. At this epoch, there were in the west five great national
churches: the Italian church, or rather the Lombard — for I
only speak of the north of Italy, then in the. power of the

330 HISTORY OF
Lombards — the Spanish church; the Anglo-Saxon church;
the Gallo-Frankish church, and the rising Germanic church.
1. It was in Italy, in the Lombard church, that papacy
was the least powerful. The bishop of Rome had never been,
either as metropolitan or by any other title, the superior of
the bishops of the north of Italy: the Lombard kings, who
had long been Arians, and incessantly applied themselves to
drive their conquests into the territory which they adminis
tered, were its natural enemies. " The perfidy of the
Lombards," wrote pope Pelagius L, in 584, " has caused us,
despite their own oaths, so many tribulations and evils, that
no one can recount them." The correspondence between the
Lombard bishops and the popes, became, therefore, difficult
and rare; and that church, which reached almost to the gates
of Rome, was stranger to them than any other.
2. For a long time, on the contrary, their influence over
the Spanish church was great and progressive. Under the
domination of the Arian Visigoths, the catholic and perse
cuted clergy of Spain maintained frequent and intimate rela
tions with the bishop of Rome, who, in the name of the
catholic church, supported it in its resistance. It happened,
moreover, that in the course of the fifth and sixth centuries,
two illustrious Spanish bishops, Torribius, bishop of Astorga,
and Leandro, bishop of Seville, were the secretaries and
friends — the one of Leo the Great, (440-461,) the other of
Gregory the Great, (590-604,) and established habitual rela
tions between their church and that of Rome. Accordingly,
it is on the subject of the Spanish church that the pretensions
of papacy are the most openly manifested at this epoch. In
538, pope Vigilius writes to Profuturus, bishop of Braga:
" As the holy Roman church possesses the primacy over
all churches, it is to her, as the chief of the church, that all
important affairs are to be sent, the judgments and complaints
of bishops, as well as great questions of ecclesiastical matters.r
For that church, which is the first, in confiding her functions
to the other churches, called upon them to share in her
labours, not in her plenitude of power."1
There was, at that time, no other church in the west te
which the bishop of Rome addressed language like this.
1 Baluze, Nov. Cod. Cone, vol. i., coll 1468,

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 331
Accordingly, some doubts have been raised as to the authen
ticity of this letter; still it seems to me probable. The power
of the papacy in Spain was so real, that in 603 two Spanish
bishops, Januario of Malaga, and Stephen, having been irre
gularly deposed, Gregory the Great sent an envoy, named
John, with orders to inquire into the affair: and without con
voking any council, without seeking the adhesion of the Spanish
clergy, John declared that the deposition was illegal, annulled
it, and reinstated the two bishops, thus exercising the rights
of the most extended ecclesiastical supremacy.
It was not, however, so well established as one would sup
pose. The Visigoth kings, dating from Ricared (586 — 601),
had become catholics. At first, the papacy profited by it;
the fact which I have related proves it. But the struggle
between the national clergy and the temporal government
having ceased, the clergy grew more closely connected with
the government, and less so with the foreign bishop, whom
they had taken for a chief. Accordingly, we see the power
of papacy a little weakened in Spain during the course of the
seventh century, and the national church acting with more
independence. At the commencement of the eighth century
king Witiza quarrelled with the pope, interdicted all re
course to Rome, rejected the Roman discipline, and, it is said,
even authorized the marriage of priests. Some years after
wards, the invasion of the Arabs took place, and the greater
part of Spain was lost both for papacy as well as for Chris
tianity. In the middle of the eightli century, it preserved
power only among the Christian refugees in the north of the
Peninsula, or at the foot of the Pyrenees; and there even
the disorder was such, and society so agitated or weak, that
there was scarcely anything for a distant and systematic in
fluence to do.
3. With regard to the Anglo-Saxon church, you know,
that, founded by the popes themselves, it was placed, from its
very origin, under their most direct influence; it was still in
the middle of the eighth century in the same situation.1
4. The situation of the Gallo-Frankish church was dif
ferent. You have seen that during the course of the seventh
century her relations with Rome had become very rare.2 It was
» 19th Lecture. 2 Ibid.

332 HISTORY OF
in the middle of the eighth century, precisely at the opening
of the epoch with which we are about to occupy ourselves,
that they again became more frequent and efficacious. I
will resume this history presently.
5. The Germanic church, as you know, owed its success
to the labours of the Anglo-Saxon missionaries, of Saint
Boniface, more especially; and her founders, in creating her,
gave her, as it were, to the papacy.1
Such was the situation of the popes with regard to the
great national churches in the West, when, about the middle
of the eighth century, the first Carlovingians closely allied
themselves with them. It is easy to recognise the happy
effects upon the papacy of this alliance.
And, first, it acquired an ascendancy in the Italian church
which it had never before possessed. After the defeat of the
Lombards by the Franks, the bishop of Rome did not become
the metropolitan of the Lombard bishops; he did not receive
the title of patriarch; but he was invested with a superiority
without example, indefinite, and so much the greater.
The Lombard clergy saw him respected by the Frank-
conquerors, who in general looked upon him as their repre
sentative and minister beyond the Alps, and it was through
him accordingly that the clergy treated with the conquerors.
No one in the Lombard church could think of equalling it;
and the church itself rapidly fell under his authority.
He also acquired fresh authority in the Gallo-Frankish
church. It was with his aid, and by supporting themselves
with his name and opinions, that the first Carlovingians
laboured to reform her. Even before their elevation, Saint
Boniface wrote to pope Zachary, that Carloman, brother of
Pepin le Bref, asked him to repair to Gaul: "Protesting
that he wished to amend and reform the state of religion
and the church, which, for at least seventy or eighty
years, had been abandoned to disorder, and crushed under
foot."2 It was under the presidence and influence of Saint Boniface,
in his character as legate of the pope, that councils were held,
formerly so rare, but now again become frequent. The
acts of the council of 742, called Germanicum, commence in
the following terms:
> 19th Lecture. » S. Bon., ep. 51, p. 107

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 333
" I, Carloman, duke and prince of the Franks with the
counsel of the servants of God and our great men, have con
voked the bishops of my kingdom, and Boniface, who is sent
from Saint Peter, that they may give me counsel," &c.
The same fact reappears in the council held the following
year at Lestines or Leptines, in the diocese of Cambray, and
at the assembly of Soissons (752), where Pepin was conse
crated king. Not content with thus serving as mediator
between the temporal sovereigns and the popes, Saint Boni
face undertook to unite closely to the see of Rome the
metropolitans, or archbishops, whose power he was establish
ing; he induced those of Rouen, of Sens, and of Reims, at
the time of their nomination, to demand the pallium — the sign
of their new dignity — from the pope, and thus to claim of him
a sort of investiture. Only one among them followed his
counsel, and the pope testified to Boniface his disappointment
that the other two had not done the same. Lastly, it was not
the sovereigns or the clergy only who were reconciled to
papacy, and contracted a more intimate alliance with it.
The same movement was manifested among the faithful, the
people: the number of pilgrims who repaired to Rome with
pious intentions rapidly increased. We read in a capitulary
of Pepin le Bref :
" As regards pilgrims who make a pilgrimage in the service
of God, let no one demand toll of them."1
And it is evidently to the pilgrimage of Rome that this
provision relates.
Though we had no other proof of the ascendant move
ment of papacy in the Gallo-Frankish church, but the
tone in which it is there spoken of, this were sufficient:
not only the language of the clergy, but of writers in
general, the temporal sovereigns themselves, becomes ex
tremely pompous — magnificent and respectful epithets in
crease. The pope was no longer simply the bishop of
Rome, the brother of other bishops; titles were given to
him, and expressions employed towards him which were
not employed towards or given to any other. Certain phrases
of Alcuin, who, in his capacity of favourite to Charlemagne,
cannot be suspected of wishing to sacrifice the power of his
> Cap. Pipp. a. 755, p. 22 ¦ Bal. vol. i. eol. 175.

834 HISTORY 01?
master to a foreign power, will say more concerning those
titles and expressions than any generalities. In 796, he
addresses pope Leo III. (695 — 816) in these words:
"Most holy father, elected pontiff of God, vicar of the
apostles, heir of the fathers, prince of the church, guardian of
the only dove without stain."1
And in another place, in 794, to Adrian I. (761 — 795):
" Very excellent father, even as I recognise thee for the
vicar of the blessed Peter, the prince of the apostles, so do I
regard thee as the heir of his miraculous power."2
Again, in writing to Charlemagne, in 799:
" Hitherto there have been in the world three persons of
supreme rank: the sublimity of the apostolical vicar who
occupies the seat of the blessed Peter, the prince of the
apostles; the dignity of the emperor who exercises the secular
power in the second Rome; the third is the royal dignity
with which the will of our Lord Jesus Christ has invested
you, that you may govern the Christian people."3
It is true that it would be improper to accept these expres
sions literally; we must not believe that the pope possessed,
in its whole extent, the power which they attribute to him;
but they show what moral and religious supremacy he already
possessed in the mind of the people. His intellectual domi
nion, the source of all other species of his dominion, really
dates from this period.
His temporal power received at the same time a notable
accretion. When Pepin had conquered the Lombards, he
compelled them to restore to the bishop of Rome the lands
which they had taken from him, and he, moreover, added a
part of those which he had himself conquered, especially in
the exarchy of Ravenna. After the complete ruin of the
Lombard kings, Charlemagne, in appropriating these states,
made new and considerable donations of the same kind to
Adrian the First. The authenticity of these two gifts has
been called into question, and it is true that the original
act is, in neither case, extant. Nevertheless, they are, di
rectly or indirectly, mentioned by contemporary writers;
and numerous chronicles and monuments of various kinds
> Letter 20, vol. i , p. 30. 2 Letter 15, vol. i., p. 25.
« Letter 80, vol. i., p. 117.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 335
attest, or suppose their existence. The extent of the lands
thus conceded may be disputed: in the succeeding centuries
the pope greatly exaggerated it, no doubt; but I conceive
that it is impossible reasonably to question the reality of these
donations. They present nothing which is not perfectly
natural, and in harmony with the entire history of the eighth
century. We ought rather to have been surprised had they
not occurred.
It is more difficult to determine the true meaning and poli
tical bearing of such concessions. Two hypotheses have been
maintained upon this point. According to some, Pepin and
Charlemagne gave to the pope no more than the civil pro
prietorship, the dominium utile, the revenue of the lands, and
of the slaves and labourers who inhabited them — not the sove
reignty, the government of the territory. According to others,
political sovereignty was attached to the concession; the popes
exercised all the rights of political sovereignty, as had been
done before them by the exarch of Ravenna, and the other
delegates of the emperor of the East, who, even after the dona
tions had been made, preserved, for a while, some shadow of
supremacy over these lands, but soon completely lost it,
leaving the pope as their only successor.
In my opinion, neither one nor the other of these hypotheses
can be maintained; each of them depends upon an oblivion of
the condition of minds in the time which it relates to. In
those days, people did not acquire such clear and precise ideas
of sovereignty, power, and rights, as are formed of them by
us, in the present day. They did not distinguish with such
strictness between the dominium utile and political govern
ment, between property and sovereignty. All this science
of modern civilians was foreign to men's minds and to
facts, in the middle of the eighth century. The proprietor,
as proprietor, exercised in his domains a portion of those
rights which are at present ascribed to the sovereign alone.
He maintained order, did justice or caused it to be- done, led
or sent to war the men upon his lands, not in virtue of a
special power, called political, but in virtue of his proprietor
ship itself, in the idea of which the most various powers were
confounded. Thus, on the one hand, when, in the ninth cen
tury, we see the popes exercising the greater part of those
rights which we name political, in the domains which they

33S HISTORY OF
had received from Pepin and Charlemagne, we must not
therefore conclude that real, complete, and independent sove
reignty had been conferred upon them; and, on the other
hand, neither must we any more believe that Charlemagne,
in retaining a certain sovereignty over the territory which he
had given to the popes, thought that he ought to and, in
fact, did, reserve to himself all the rights which, in the pre
sent day, appear to us to be attached to the word. At the
same time that the pope, in the name of proprietor, had
ministers, judges, and even military chiefs, chosen by and
dependent upon himself, on his domains, Charlemagne re
ceived taxes from them, and sent them, as to the rest of his
states, missi dominici, charged with the inspection of all mat
ters, the suppression of abuses, &c. In a word, complete
sovereignty was attributed neither to the pope nor to the
emperor; it fluctuated between the two, in a divided and un
certain state; and from this fact arises all the difficulties of a
question which does not exist in the eyes of any one who is
acquainted with and understands the period of which we are
speaking. Whether or no he possessed such sovereignty, there can
be no doubt but that the acquisition of such vast domains,
and of all the rights of proprietorship, was a great increase
of temporal power for the bishop of Rome. He found him
self, from that time, beyond any comparison, the richest
bishop in Christendom, and without a peer materially as well
as morally.
Thus, the early Carlovingians, and especially Charlemagne,
were the most useful allies to the papacy: 1st, in ensuring to
the pope a power over the Italian church, which they had not
hitherto possessed ; 2ndly, in giving them a very active in
fluence in the affairs of the Gallo-Frankish church ; 3rdly, in
recognising in these, by language and all demonstrations
which strike the imagination of nations, a majesty and supre
macy which had not yet been admitted by princes ; 4thly, and
finally, in increasing, whether by wealth, or by its indirect
consequences, their temporal power.
Nevertheless, you must not believe that, in their relations
with the papacy, they had abdicated their empire. As you
have seen that Charlemagne favoured the influence of the
clergy within the Gallo-Frankish church, and yet subjected

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 337
them to his own power, so he ruled the popes even while ho
prepared for them the means of ruling his successors. In the
first place, their election was not complete until it had received
the approbation of the emperor. Facts and texts abound in
proof of this. In 796, Charlemagne wrote to Pope Leo III.
who had just been elected :
" After having read your excellency's letter, and noticed
the decree, we were greatly rejoiced both with the unanimity
of the election and with the humility of your obedience, and
with the promise of fidelity which you have made to us."1
In 816, the election of Stephen IV. took place in the pre
sence of the commissaries of Louis le Debonnaire, to whom
the decree was sent in order that it should receive his confirm
ation. In 8 1 7, Pascal I. excuses himself for the precipitation of
his ordination. In 825, at the time of the election of Eugenius
IL, Louis le Debonnaire sent his son Lothaire to Rome, and it
was determined that commissaries of the emperor should
always be present at the ordination of the pope.
This consent of the emperor has sometimes been represented
as a nomination; it has been pretended that he named the
pope like the other bishops. Nothing is less founded than
. this assertion. The pope was elected at Rome by the clergy,
and sometimes, too, with the concurrence of the people of
Kome; but in order to his consecration, the approbation of
the emperor was necessary. The concurrence of the temporal
power went no further than this.
The language of many popes at this period expressly wit
nesses their dependence, and the positive superiority of the
imperial power. Leo III. wrote to the emperor :
"If we have done anything incompetently, and if, in the
affairs which have been submitted to' us, we have not rightly
followed the path of the true law, we are ready to reform what
we have done, according to your judgment and that of your
commissaries."2 Leo IV. wrote to Lothaire the First:
" We promise that we will always do all that shall be in our
power to keep and observe inviolably the statutes and decrees
as well of yourself, as of your predecessors."3
1 Cap., vol. i., col. 271.
* Gratian. Decret., p. 11, cans. 2, quot. 7, coi, 41.
3 Gratian. Decret., Distinct. 10, c. 9
VOL. II. Z

S38 HISTORY OF
Moreover, in France, within the Gallo-Frankish church,
the emperors governed alone, without, in any respect, sharing
the power with the papacy. That influence upon the Gallo-
Frankish church which I have just exhibited to you as being
in the hands of the popes, was only indirect. They did not
convoke the councils; the emperor alone called them. The deci
sions of these assemblies did not require their approbation. All
ecclesiastical supervision or administration belonged either to
the national bishops or to the delegates of the emperor, and
the pope only interfered indirectly, by way of advice.
There existed, moreover, with the public, both laity and
clergy, a certain idea of an ancient and general legislation of
the church, to which the popes were bound to submit, as well
as the other bishops. People made no precise estimate of its
source and its authority; they were not fully aware from
what power it ought always to emanate; the question was
not, as it afterwards was, very clearly laid down between the
councils and the popes; but it was the firm impression of the
public that, above the popes, were the canons, discipline, and
general law of the church, and that of themselves they had no
right to change them.
Such was the situation of the papacy, more especially in
its relations with the Gallo-Frankish church, at the com
mencement of the ninth century, and the end of the reign of
Charlemagne. You see that much incoherence and confusion
reigned in it. We thus meet with a multitude of contra
dictory facts; some bear witness to the independence of the
national churches; others exhibit the papal power above the
national churches. Here appears the superiority of the
temporal power; there^ that of the spiritual power en
throned at Rome. In 833, Gregory IV. interfered to
reconcile Louis le Debonnaire and his sons, reproaching the
bishops of Frankish Gaul with their conduct: they protested
against his interference, and contested with him the rights
which he assumed, declaring that " they would by no means
submit to his will, and that if he came to excommunicate, he
should depart excommunicated ; for the authority of the
ancient canons permitted nothing of this kind." Nevertheless,
in his answer, Gregory reproaches them with having employed,
in writing to him, the titles frater and pater, by turns,
" whereas it would have been much more becoming to havo

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. • 339
exhibited towards him nothing but a filial respect; '' and,
upon this, not only did they not expostulate again, but the
word frater gradually disappeared from their language. In
844, the bishops of Frankish Gaul refused to acknowledge
Drogon, archbishop of Metz, the natural son of Charlemagne,
as vicar of pope Sergius IL, who had given him his diploma;
and, in 8'49, they menaced Nomenoe, king of Brittany, with
excommunication, because he received with disdain a letter of
pope Leo IV., " to whom God had given the primacy of the
entire world. ' I might multiply examples; I might exhibit
temporal sovereigns, popes, and national churches, turn by
turn, conquerors or conquered, arrogant or humble. Never
theless, through all these contradictions, we plainly perceive
that the papacy was making progress; it reigned, if not in
fact, at least in the minds of men. The conviction that the
pope was the interpreter of the faith, the chief of the uni
versal church, that he was above all other bishops, above
national councils; and above temporal governments, in matters
of religion, and even in temporal affairs, when they related
to religion; this conviction, I say, became more and more
established in the minds of men. In the middle of the ninth
century, we may regard it as definitively formed; the conquest
of the intellectual order was then completed for the profit of
the papacy.
It had also to make the conquest of the legal order; the
mind of nations attributed to it the sovereignty of law, but
there were wanting titles in which its laws should be written,
and in the name of which it might assert their historical
antiquity, as well as their national legitimacy. These it soon
found. Collections had been making, for a long time, of the canons
of the church. The first collection of this kind, in the west,
had been compiled in the sixth century by a Roman monk,
named Denis le Petit. It soon became a kind of eccle
siastical code, and the object of general emulation. Many
similar collections were written in the different states of the
west. Spain, in particular, had one of them, to which the
name of Isidore was given, although St. Isidore, bishop of
Seville, had evidently no hand in it. It was more extensive
than that of Denis le Petit, and contained a greater num
ber of letters of the popes, as well as of canons of councils,
z2

340 ' HISTORY OF
and particularly of the Spanish councils. It spread itself
beyond Spain, and very soon obtained great credit, parti
cularly in Gaul.
In the first half of the ninth century, between the years
820 and 849, there suddenly appeared, still under the name
of Saint Isidore, a new collection of canons, much more impor
tant than that which I have already mentioned. It is in the
north and east of Frankish Gaul, in the dioceses of Mayence,
Treves, Metz, Reims, &c. &c, that we first meet with it;
there it had no obstacle opposed to its circulation; very few
were the doubts which arose here and there concerning its
authenticity, and in a short time it acquired a sovereign
authority. This is the collection which is called The False
Decretals. It has received this name because it contains
numerous pieces which are manifestly false, and because it
bears all the characters of a lying fabrication. It begins
with sixty letters of the most ancient bishops of Rome, from
Saint Clement (91—100) to Melchiades (311—314); letters of
which no monument had yet made mention, and of which the
falsehood appears at the first glance. The popes of the three
first centuries are therein continually made to employ Saint
Jerome's translation of the bible, which was not produced
until the end of the fourth century; they also allude to facts
and to works of the sixth and seventh centuries. In short,
the fabrication cannot in the present day be called into ques
tion by a man of any sense or information.
The author of this fabrication is not known. Since we
meet with it first of all in the dioceses of Treves and May
ence. and on account of other minor indications with which I
will not occupy your time, it has been attributed to Benedict,
deacon of Mayence, whom I have already named to you, and
who made the second collection of the statutes of Charle
magne. Whoever he may have been, his work spread
rapidly: many took it for the ancient collection already
known by the name of Saint Isidore: others, believing it to be
new, neglected even to examine its contents. It had for pa
trons, not alone the popes and their partisans, but also nearly
all the bishops; for, in fact, it was not written exclusively
in the interest of the papacy. It even seems, all things con
sidered, in its primitive intention to have been more espe
cially destined to serve the bishops against the metropolitans

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 341
and 'the temporal sovereigns. The greater portion of the
fabricated pieces, even whilst displaying with pomp the
power of the popes, have for their principal object the esta
blishing of the independence of the bishops, and it is above
all against the metropolitans and the temporal princes that
the power of the pope is invoked.
The false decretals had, therefore, from the first, the sup
port of the bishops; and, far from calling them into question,
they eagerly adopted them, pre-occupied, as has so often hap
pened, with thp interest of the moment, and not troubling
themselves to perceive that one day the fraud would turn to
the profit of the pretensions of the papacy, rather than to their
own advantage.
' About the middle of the ninth century the pope had thus
triumphed both in the intellectual and in the legal orders;
they were in possession of rational right and a written title;
this sovereignty reposed not only upon public belief, but also
upon traditions.
Thus founded, and invested with such forces, their power
was naturally not slow to display itself practically. About the
same period, in fact, all the consequences of the principles set
down, either in the general opinions of the time, or in the
false decretals, made their appearance in certain particular
events. In 856, a nephew of Charles le Chauve, and great-grandson
of Charlemagne, Lothaire, king of Lorraine, had married
Teutberge, daughter of Boson, a Burgundian count. In 857
she displeased him, and he put her away; he accused her of
all kinds of crimes, among others, of incest with Hubert,
her brother. He lived openly with another woman, Wal-
drade, sister of Gunther, archbishop of Cologne, and niece to
Teutgaud, archbishop of Treves, whom he had loved, it is
said, for a long time, and to whom he had even promised
marriage. In 858, Teutberge, with the assistance of a champion, jus
tified herself by the proof of boiling water, and Lothaire found
himself forced to take her back again, but he never ceased
in his efforts to get rid of her. Whether truly, or through
fear, she permitted herself to avow the crime of which she
was accused; and between 860 and 862, three councils held
at Aix-la-Chapelle solemnly condemned her, annulled the
marriage, and allowed Lothaire to wed Waldrade.

342 HISTORY OF
But, pretty nearly about the same time, in 858, the holy
see was assumed by a monk of severe manners, ardent cha
racter, and inflexible spirit, who had not, without great
difficulty, determined upon leaving his cloister to become
pope, and who, once pope, desired to reign over Christianity
indeed. Hear how a contemporary chronicler speaks of
Nicholas the First:
" Since the blessed Gregory, no bishop exalted, in the
city of Rome, to the pontifical see, may be compared with
him; he reigned over kings and tyrants, and subjected them
to his authority, as if he had been the master of the world.
He showed himself humble, benign, pious, and benevolent
towards religious bishops and priests, and those who observed
the precepts of the Lord — terrible and extremely severe
towards the impious, and those who wandered from the
right way; so that he might be taken for another Elias, re
suscitated in our days by the voice of God, if not in body, at
least in spirit and in virtue." J
In the year 859, it appears that Teutberge addressed
herself to Nicholas I., and claimed his interference. He
made her wait for some time. It was not till 862, and after
the holding of the three councils of Aix-la-Chapelle, that he
sent two legates to Lorraine, with orders to investigate the
matter anew. For this purpose a council was convoked at
Metz, in 863. Whether the facts with which Teutberge was
charged appeared sufficiently proved, or whether Lothaire
(which seems the most probable) succeeded in winning over
the two legates, the council at which they assisted sanc
tioned the conclusions of former councils, and the matter
appeared to be terminated, with the accord of all judges and
all powers.
But when the news of this decision came to Rome, whether
with or without reason, (and, for my part, I believe that it was
with reason,) Nicholas perceived in it nothing more than the
effect of obsequiousness, or, to speak plainly, of servility and
corruption, whether upon the part of the bishops of Lorraine,
or upon that of his own legates. The general voice accused
them ; the two archbishops who had directed the council
were relations of Waldrade. Nicholas resolved to take no half
1 Chron, de Eeginon, ad a. 868

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 343
measures; and, without convoking Ary council at Rome, he,
with his single authority, not only annulled the acts of the
council of M 'tz, but deposed the archbishops of Treves and
Cologne, and commanded Lothaire to receive his wife again.
He had, to excuse him in adopting this bold and despotic con
duct, upon one hand, public opinion, which was strongly pro
nounced against Lothaire and Waldrade; on the other hand,
as far as we can judge at this distance of time, truth and jus
tice : against him were the rights of the bishops and councils,
and all the ancient discipline of the church; but the text of
the false decretals furnished him with a point of support
against these last objections. Strong in the austerity of his con
science and the approbation of the people, he persisted in his
resolution, and not content with avenging morality, called also
to his aid the spirit of liberty. In 863, he wrote to Adven-
tius, bishop of Metz :
" Examine well whether these kings and princes, to whom
you profess yourself subjected, are really kings and princes,
Examine whether they govern well, first, themselves — next,
their people: for he who is worth nothing for himself,
how can he be good for another ? Examine whether they
reign according to justice; for, otherwise, they should be re
garded as tyrants rather than as kings ; and, in such case, we
ought to resist and oppose, instead of submitting to them.
Were we to submit to them, were we not to rise up against
them, we should be obliged to encourage their vices." l
Against such arms, the temporal princes, aided even by
their own clergy, as Lothaire was upon this occasion, were
too weak. Nicholas I. triumphed at the same time over Lo
thaire and over the clergy of Lorraine ; both one and the other
submitted to, whilst they expostulated against, his decision.
Nearly at the same moment, a second matter presented it
self which furnished him with the occasion of a second victory.
Hincmar, archbishop of Reims, with whom I shall occupy
you now in detail, by and bye, desired to reign almost as
despotically in the Gallo-Frankish church, as Nicholas reigned
in the church universal. One of his suffragans, Rothade,
bishop of Soissons, had deprived a priest of his diocese
of his rank, on account of misconduct; three years after this
1 Mansi.

344 HISTORY OF
condemnation, under the pretext that it was unjust, and
rather, as it appears, from ill-humour against Rothade, than
from any other motive, Hincmar re-established the priest in
his parish, against the will of his bishop, and excommunicated
the latter for his disobedience. A dispute was thus esta
blished between the bishop of Soissons, and the archbishop of
Reims. The bishop deposed in 862, by the council of Sois
sons, appealed from it to the pope ; Hincmar, by means of
stratagems and violence, eluded, for some time, the effects of
their appeal, and even prevented its arrival at Rome ; but
Nicholas I. received it at last, and in 865, having called a
council upon this subject, he said, in his opening discourse:
" The bishops of Gaul, having convoked a general council,
(which it is permitted to none to do,) without the order of
the apostolic see, have there cited Rothade .... Even though
the council had not been called, he ought not to have been
deposed without our knowledge, for the sacred statutes and
the canonical decrees have remitted to our decision the trials
of bishops, together with all other important matters."1
This was to misunderstand and to brave all canonical rules,
all the examples of the past, all the customs of the church.
But upon this particular occasion, as upon the former, Nicholas
had right and the public voice on his side; and he upheld
justice and the popular opinion. He triumphed again;
Rothade was re-established, and the national churches were
conquered in the person of Hincmar, as the temporal sove
reigns had been in the person of Lothaire.
This double victory was not undisputed: more than once,
in the course of the tenth century, resistance reappeared; and
the successors of Nicholas I., among others, Adrian IL, were
not all of them so skilful or so fortunate in their enterprises
as he had been. Nevertheless, on the whole, their power and
the maxims which supported it, were making progress in ex
ternal things, as well as in the minds of men; and it is from
the reign of Nicholas I. that the sovereignty of the papacy
really dates.
I approach my limits. I have occupied you with the in
ternal history of the Gallo-Frankish church, from the eightli
to the tenth century, as regards its relation with the temporal
1 Mansi, t. xv., p. 686.

C.VILIZATION IN FEANCE. 845
sovereign. I have placed before you its external history, its
relatioris with its foreign sovereign. And to this I confine
my picture of the Carlovingian ecclesiastical society. It re
mains for us to study intellectual development in the same
period. You have already seen what this was under Charle
magne, and up to the time of Louis le Debonnaire. The
study of it, from the reign of Louis le Debonnaire to the
accession of Hugh Capet, will be the object of our next
meetings-.

346 HISTORY OF

TWENTY-EIGHTH LECTURE.

Of the intellectual condition of Frankish Gaul, from the death of Charle
magne to the accession of Hugh Capet — Sketch of the celebrated men
of this period — The theological mind — The philosophical mind — Hinc
mar and John Erigena are respectively their representatives — Life of
Hincmar — His activity and influence as archbishop of Eeims — 1. Con
cerning his relations with kings and popes — 2. Concerning his admi
nistration in the interior of the Gallo-Frankish church and of his diocese
— 3. Concerning his disputes and theological works — Origin of the
theology of the middle ages — Quarrel between Hincmar and the monk
G ottschalk upon predestination — Numerous writings upon this subject —
Councils of Kiersy, Valence, and Langres — Becapitulation.
In exhibiting the intellectual revival of Frankish Gaul
under Charlemagne,1 I affirmed that the movement which
was then given to mind, did not cease under his successors.
It is to the progress of this movement, in the ninth and tenth
centuries, that I pui-pose to direct your attention to-day.
When I arranged the table of the celebrated men of the
times of Charlemagne,9 I included in it, you remember, those
alike, whom he found, and those whom he formed, his con
temporaries, properly so called, and their immediate disciples.
I have treated in detail only of the first, confining myself, as
regards the last, to the indications of their names and their
works. The majority of these — for instance, the historians
Thegan, Nithard the astronomer, the theologians Raban,
Floras, Walfrid Strabo, Paschase Radbirt, Ratramne, and
many other erudite and literary men, and poets, who were
comprised in the last part of the table which I have placed i
before you, belong to the epoch whereupon we are now to bo
1 Lecture 23rd. » Lecture 20th.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

347

engaged; and in adding to this table that of the celebrated
men who appeared towards the end of the ninth, and in the
course of the tenth century, I complete a summary of the in
tellectual activity of Frankish Gaul under the Carlovingian
line. Here is this supplement:

Name.

Country. I Born. | Died.

Condition.

Works.

St. Remi.
St. Ado.
Hincmar.

Gaul.

Diocese of
Sens. Gaul.

1

Remi.

Burgundy.

Abbo.

Gaul.

Hucbald.

Flanders.

St. Odo.

Maine.

Frodoard.

Epernay.

Gerbert.
Silv. II.)

Aurillae.

.

Beginning
of the ninth
century. 800

806

About the
middle of
the ninth
century.

Idem.
About 840
879894

In the first
half of the
tenth cen
tury.

About 908

About 924

930 942

Archbishop of Lvons.

Archbishop of Vienna.
Archbishop of Reims.

Monk of St.
Germaind'Auxerre.

Monk of St
Germaindes
Pres.
Monk of St.
Amand.
Abhot of
Cluny.

966 Canon of
Reims.

1003

Pope.

Theological writings ;
amongst others, writ
ings upon predestina
tion and free-will.
1. Theological -writ
ings; 2. An universal
chronicle.
1. Theological writ
ings; among others,
writings on predesti
nation ; 2. Political
w ritings and decrees ;
3. Letters.
1. Commentaries upon
the scriptures ; 2.
Theological writings;
3. Commentaries up- |
on the ancient gram- I
marians andrhetori- I
cians.
1. A poem upon the
siege of Paris by the
Normans, in 885; 2.
Manuscript sermons.
1. Poems; 2. Lives of
the Saints.
1. Theological writ
ings ; 2. Lives of the
Saints, particularly
Gregory of Tours ;
3. Sermons.
1. Poems; 2. History
of the church of
Reims: 3. A chro
nicle from 919 to
966.
1. Works on mathe
matics; 2. On philo
sophy; 3. On theo
logy ; 4. Poems ; 5.
Letters.

S48 HISTORY OF
Now, in endeavouring to go further than this series of
names, dates, and titles, of works, I experience the same
embarrassment which I experienced when I desired to
depict the intellectual condition of France under Charle
magne. The works of all those men whom I have just
named form no united whole, do not connect themselves with
any great idea, or with any general and fruitful system,
around which we may group them, or which may be em-.
ployed as a thread of connection in this study. Their
works are detached, partial, little varied, and more re
markable for the activity they manifest than for the results
they have produced. In the absence of a systematic sum
mary, shall I take these men one by one, relating the life,
and describing the writings of each? Such biographies
would be uninteresting and uninstructive unless they were
very minute; but we have little time to devote to them.
I will solve the question as I solved it in the case of the
reign of Charlemagne. I referred the intellectual picture of
his epoch to the life of one man, of a man who seemed to me
its most faithful representative: I traced, in the destiny
and works of Alcuin, the delineation of the condition and
general movement of mind. I shall adopt the same method
for the following epoch: I shall seek for some man who is
the image of it, in whom the intellectual life of his contem
poraries is reflected: and I shall endeavour to make him
thoroughly understood, well assured that, considering the
shortness of the time to which I am limited, this will be the
best way of making you acquainted with the entire period.
Two men will enable us to arrive at this result.
In studying the life and writings of Alcuin, we were
led to recognise therein a double tendency, a double cha
racter: " Alcuin," I said, " was a theologian by profession;
the atmosphere in which he lived was essentially theo
logical; but nevertheless the theological spirit did not reign
in him alone; his labours and his thoughts also tended
towards philosophy and ancient literature. He was familiar
with St. Jerome and St. Augustin; but Pythagoras, Aris
totle, Aristippus, Diogenes, Plato, Homer, Virgil, Seneca,
and Pliny, lived also in his memory. He was a monk, a
deacon, the light of the contemporary church, but he was
also a man of learning and classical literature. In him, in

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 349
fact, commences the. alliance of the two elements of which
the modern mind has so long carried the discordant impress:
antiquity and the church; admiration, love — shall I say
regret? — for pagan literature; with sincerity of Christian
faith, and eagerness to fathom its mysteries and defend its
power."1 The same fact is the predominant character of the epoch
with which we now occupy ourselves; but it is no longer in
any one man that we find its image; the Christian and the
Roman mind, the new theology and the ancient philosophy
manifest themselves equally, but in a separate and even hos
tile state. We met with two men who may be considered as
the distinct representations of these two elements. One,
Hincmar, archbishop of Reims, is the centre of the theo
logical movement ; the other, Scotus or Erigena, is the
philosopher of the time. With the life of Hincmar the events
and labours of contemporaneous theology connect themselves;
in that of Erigena, the modes of ancient philosophy are re
vealed. In the history of these two men appear the two
forces of which the struggle for a long time constituted all
the intellectual history of modern Europe; I mean the doc
trinal church, and free thought. I shall endeavour to make
you acquainted both with one and with the other. It is with
Hincmar that I shall begin.
He was born about the year 806, in Frankish-Gaul, pro
perly so called, that is to say, in the north-east of present
France. His family was one of the most considerable of
the time: the famous Bernard IL, count of Toulouse, and
another Bernard, count of Vermandois, were his relations.
He was brought up from his childhood in the monastery of
St. Denis, under the abbot Hilduin. Louis le Debonnaire,
when he ascended the throne, whether it was that he
already knew Hincmar, or whether he took an interest in
his family, caused him to come to his court, and retained
him near him. You know the efforts that were made by
this prince, from 816 to 830, to reform the church, and par
ticularly the monasteries. The monastery of St. Denis,
like many others, greatly required reform; discipline and
knowledge were there equally declining. Hincmar, young as
1 Lecture 22.

350 HISTORY OF
he was, laboured and powerfully assisted, in o29, to en
force their regeneration. He did more: he himself entered
the monastery, and led the most rigid life there; but he was
not permitted to remain in peace long; the abbot Hilduin
took part, about 830, in the quarrels of Louis le Debonnaire
with his sons; he declared himself against the emperor; and
when Louis recovered power, Hilduin was dispossessed of his
monastery and banished to Saxony. Whether from affection
to his abbot, or from other considerations with wliich we
cannot now become acquainted, Hincmar followed him there,
and nevertheless retained sufficient credit, not only to allow
of his son returning to the court himself, but to enable him
to cause Hilduin to be recalled and reinstated.
To begin from this epoch, we see him sometimes with the
emperor, sometimes in his monastery, leading, by turns, the
life of a favourite priest, and that of an austere monk. It is
difficult, at this distance of time, to decide upon what were
the parts taken in his actions by worldly ambition and by
religious fervour. What appears certain is, that neither one
nor the other was ever wholly absent from him, and that, in
the entire course of his life, as at this epoch, he was almost
equally taken up with his fortune and his salvation.
At the death of Louis le Debonnaire, in 840, Charles le
Chauve took Hincmar into the same favour. From 840 to 844,
he lived at the court of this prince as his most intimate con
fident, and his principal agent in all ecclesiastical affairs.
Charles gave him many abbeys. In 844, he assisted at the
council of Verneuil. The archbishopric of Reims had been
vacant for nine years, in consequence of the deposition of the
archbishop Ebbo — a complicated and obscure business, into
the details of which I will not enter. The clergy demanded,
at last, that this important see should be filled, and the follow
ing year, in 845, at the council of Beauvais, Hincmar, then
thirty-nine years old, was elected archbishop of Reims.
His activity and influence in the Gallo-Frankish church
date from this epoch. He was archbishop of Reims for
thirty-nine years, from the year 845 to the 23rd of December,
882. In this long space of time we find his signature below
the acts of thirty-nine councils, not to speak of many minor
ecclesiastical assemblies, of which there remain no records.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

351

In the greater part of these councils he presided and directed
affairs.1 The historian of the church of Reims, Frodoard, who had
the archives of the church at his disposal, especially mentions
four hundred and twentythree of his letters, and, at almost
every page, indicates the existence of a great many others.
These letters are directed to kings, queens, popes, archbishops,
bishops, abbots, priests, dukes, counts, &c. He was evidently
in habitual and familiar correspondence with all the consider
able men of the time. Finally, there remain to us sixty-six
of his works, great or small, religious or political, collected by
father Sirmond, in two folio volumes, to which another Jesuit,
father Cellot, afterwards added a third volume; and we know
with certainty that there are many other writings of Hincmar
which have not reached us.
Assuredly we have here an active and powerful life. In order
to appreciate it well, and to draw from it much light concern
ing the general history of the time, we must classify, to some
degree, the facts which filled it, considering Hincmar under
three principal points of view:
I. Without the Gallo-Frankish church and his own diocese,
in his relations whether with the national civil power, the
kings of France, or with the foreign ecclesiastical power, the

1 Hincmar assisted,

In 844,

at the council of Verneuil.

In 862,

at the council of Soissons.

845,

of Beauvais.

id.

of Pistes

id.

of Meaux.

(transferred

847,

of Paris.

to Soissons.)
849,
of Kiersy.
863,
of Senlis.
id.
of Paris.
id.
of Verberie.
850,
of Moret.
866,
of Soissons.
851,
of Soissons.
867,
of Troyes.
853,
id.
869,
of Verberie.
id.
of Kiersy.
id.
of Metz.
id.
of Verberie.
id.
of Pistes.
857,
of Kiersy.
870,
of Attigy.
858,
id.
871,
of Douzy.
859,
of Metz.
873,
of Senlis.
id.
of Toul.
874,
of Douzy.
860,
Place uncert".
875,
of Chalons.
id.
of Toul.
876,
of Pontion.
861,
of Soissons.
878,
of Neustria.
862,
of Sens.
id.
of Troyes.
id.
ofSablonniere.
881,
of Fismes.
ii.
of Pistes.
352 HISTORY OF
pope. II. Within the Gallo-Frankish church and his ow
diocese, in his ecclesiastical influence and his episcopal ad
ministration. III. In his scientific and literary activity as
theologian and writer. All the important and instructive
facts of Hincmar's life come under one or other of these three
aspects. I. Considered in his relations with the national civil power,
Hincmar appeared, throughout his entire life, as the bishop
of the court of France, the director of two kings. It is
advisedly that I say the bishop of the court of France. We
find him, indeed, at the head of all the events of the court, of
all official ceremonies. Four coronations, four consecrations
of kings and queens took place in this epoch, and Hincmar
presided at them all. In 856, at Verberie, he crowned Judith,
daughter of Charles le Chauve, who married Ethelwolf, king of
the Anglo-Saxons. In 866, at the council of Soissons, he
crowned Hermentrude, wife of Charles le Chauve. In 869, at
the council of Metz, he crowned Charles le Chauve himself
king of Lorraine. In 877, he crowned Louis le Begue, king
of France. In a word, it was always Hincmar who, upon
all great occasions,, within or without his diocese, in ecclesi
astical or civil assemblies, represented the church amidst the
court, and presided at the alliance of religion with royalty.
In matters of a graver nature than ceremonies, in politics
properly so called, the remarkable characteristic of the life of
Hincmar was his constant fidelity to the direct line — to the legi
timate descendants of Charlemagne; a difficult task in his time,
amidst all the vicissitudes of the throne, and the dissensions
of the reigning family. Whether by attachment, principle,
foresight, or skill, the faith of Hincmar never lost itself in
this labryrinth; he always kept himself at a distance from the
party wliich history has qualified as the rebellious; and those
princes who are recognised as having formed the series of
true kings of France ever counted him among their defenders.
We find him, nevertheless, keeping himself, at the same
time, on good terms with their enemies and rivals. It would
be unjust to say that, in history, Hincmar bears the appear
ance of an intriguer; there is nothing to indicate that he
sought out intrigue, that he pursued, at all cost, opportu
nities of acting, influencing, and prevailing; but everything
shows that, when need was, he knew how to employ intrigue

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 353
with activity and dexterity, and that he excelled in acquiring
or preserving influence wherever the interest of his position,
in the state or in the church, made it necessary to him. He,
in consequence, possessed great credit with all kings and con
temporary powers during the long period of his life. We
see his intervention not only in the relations of princes with
the church, but in civil government itself; he was employed
upon difficult missions, consulted in delicate questions. And
not only does this political activity appear in his history, but
there are written monuments remaining of it. We have five
works by him, either upon government in general, or upon
the events and affairs wherein he took part, which abound in
valuable information upon the ideas and political condition of
France at that epoch. These works are:
I. A treatise, in thirty-three chapters^addressed to Charles
le Chauve, and entitled: De regis persona et de regia minis
terial a work upon morality rather than upon politics, judg
ing according to our present ideas, but which, in the ninth
century, was truly political, for it was in the name of morality,
and in developing its precepts, that the ecclesiastics influenced
governments. In the treatise of Hincmar, morality is more
over mingled with a great number of maxims of prudence and
practical wisdom, very like those which, in the fifteenth
century, constituted all political science, and of which the
book of the Prince is the type.
II. A letter addressed to Louis le Begue, after his corona
tion, at the end of the year 877, containing advice upon
the government of his states, and terminating with this re
markably sensible paragraph:
" I address to your majesty, by letter, what I would say in
words if I were near you. As to the affairs properly so called
of the church and of the kingdom, I ought not to give counsel
upon this subject without 'the general concurrence and advice
of the great, and I cannot, and dare not, decide concerning it
of myself. If, in the interim, there should befal any cause
of trouble, (from which may God preserve us,) and if it should
please your majesty to inform me of it, I will endeavour to
assist you with my advice and services, according to my
knowledge and my power."2
¦ Hincm. Op., vol. ii. p. 184. 2 Ibid.
VOL. II. A A

35 I HISTORY OF
III. A letter to the emperor Charles le Gros, engaging him
to superintend the education of the two young kings of France,
Louis, III. and Carloman, and to provide them with good
Councillors. IV. A long letter, addressed to the grandees of western
France, who had consulted Hincmar concerning the govern
ment of king Carloman, in which he transmits to them long
extracts from, perhaps an entire copy of, the work of Adal
hard, de ordine palatii, in which is exhibited Charlemagne's
method of government, and of which I have already treated.1
V. Finally, advice upon the government of Carloman,
addressed to thg bishops of his kingdom in 882, the year of
Hincmar's death, and written at Epernay, where he had just
fled from his episcopal town, besieged by the Normans; so
much did the affairs of the states, in the government of which
he had assisted, continue to engage him.
We must not believe that this desire of political importance,
this court popularity which Hincmar constantly enjoyed, cost
nothing to the independence, say, rather, to the pride of the
bishop. He was not, as you have seen, of the number of
those insolent and shuffling prelates who, under Louis le
Debonnaire and Charles le Chauve, delighted in humiliating
royalty before them; but he professed, as a general position,
the principles upon which their pretensions were founded, and,
more than once, he opposed to the desires of the temporal
power, language very similar to theirs. We read, in his
treatise upon the divorce of Lothaire and Teutberge, a quarrel
of which I have already spoken:
" Some wise men say that their prince, being king, is not
subject to the laws or to the judgments of any one, unless it
be God himself .... who made him king .... and that, as he
must not, whatever he may have done, be excommunicated
by his bishops, so he cannot be judged by other bishops; for
God alone has a right to command him — . Such is not the
language of a catholic Christian; it is full of blasphemy and
of the spirit of evil .... The authority of the apostles says
that kings ought to be subject to those whom it establishes in
the name of the Lord, and who watch over their soul, in order
that this task may not be a source of trouble to them. Tho
1 Lecture 20.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 355
blessed pope Gelasius wrote to the emperor Anastasius:
' There are two principal powers by which this world is
governed: the pontifical authority and the royal dignity; and
the authority of pontiffs is so much the greater, inasmuch as
they must account to the Lord for the souls of kings them
selves.' .... When it is said that the king is not subject to the
laws or judgments of any one, save God alone, no more than
the truth is said, if he be indeed king as his name indicates
him to be. He is called king because he rules and governs:
if he governs himself according to the will of God, if he
directs the good in the right way, and corrects the wicked, in
order to lead them from the bad way into the good, then he
is king, and is subject to no judgment save that of God
alone . . . . ; for laws are made, not for the just, but for the
unjust, .... but if he be an adulterer, a murderer, partial, or
avaricious, then ought he to be judged, in secret or in public,
by the bishops, who are the throne of God."1
Assuredly, the maxims of ecclesiastical sovereignty were
never more formally set forth.
In fact, the life of Hincmar was full of acts of resistance to
the very sovereigns whom he served with most zeal, and his
language towards them was that of the most inflexible haugh
tiness. I will cite but one example:
In 881, under the reign of Louis III., a dispute had
occurred between this prince and the council of Fisines,
touching the election of a bishop of Beauvais; the king had
protected and obstinately supported a clergyman, named
Odacre, whom the council thought unworthy. Hincmar
wrote to Louis:
" As regards what you have written to us, saying that you
will do nothing other than what you have already done, know
Itliat, if you do it not, God will himself do that which is
I pleasing to him. The emperor Louis (le Debonnaire) did
not live so many years as his father Charles. King Charles
(le Chauve), your grandfather, did not live so many years
as his father; your own father (Louis le Begue) did not
live so many years as his father; and, even while living
amidst that pomp in which your father and grandfather lived
at Compiegne, cast your eyes where your father rests; and,
' Iliucra. Op., de Divort. Loth, et Teuth., vol. i., p. 693— 68ft
A A2

356 HISTORY OF
if you do not know, ask where your grandfather died and
reposes; and do not let your heart swell before the face of
Him who died for you and for us all, and who afterwards rose
from the dead, to die no more. And be sure that you must
die: you know not at what day, nor at what hour; and you
have therefore need, as we all have, of being ever ready for
the call of the Lord. . . . You will pass away soon; but the
holy church, with its heads, under Christ, its sovereign head,
according to his promise, shall never pass away."1
I might multiply these quotations: the writings, like the
entire life of Hincmar, prove that, without carrying them as
far as rebellion and usurpation of the civil power, he professed,
concerning the relations of the two powers, all the maxims
which, since the death of Charlemagne, had developed them
selves in the Gallo-Frankish church, and that he knew, when
need was, to take advantage of them as means of re
sistance. As regards his relations with another power, with the
foreign sovereign of the church, the pope, they are more
difficult to determine, as also are the ideas which he enter
tained upon this subject; there is much contradiction and
uncertainty touching this matter. Hincmar appears often
to have been in high favour at Rome: Leo IV., upon sending
him the pallium, gave him the right, which, (said he,) had
scarcely ever been given to other archbishops, of wearing it
every day. Adrian IL, John VIII., shaped their conduct
by his advice, and accorded to him all that he asked of them.
In the great struggle of Nicholas I. against king Lothaire,
concerning Waldrade and Teutberge, Hincmar took the part
of the court of Rome, supported its cause, and received from
it many marks of esteem and good will. Upon other occa
sions, on the contrary, we find him not only opposing but
combating the court of Rome, by which, on such occasions, j
he is very ill-treated. I have already spoken to you of the
check he met with in the affair of Rothade, bishop of Soissons.2
I will instance another matter in which Nicholas the First
was not more favourable to him. Ebbo, the predecessor of
Hincmar in the see of Reims, had appointed a certain
number of priests or deacons, among others, one called
1 Hincni. Op., vol. ii., p. 199. 2 Lecture 27.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 357
Wulfad: it was maintained that this appointment was not
canonical; that Ebbo, not having been legitimate archbishop
of Reims, had not possessed the right of conferring orders,
and that they ought to be withdrawn from these pretended
clergymen. In 853, the question was carried before the
council of Soissons, and after a long and curious process,
w hether it waa by the influence of Hincmar, or by the real
opinion of the council, the priests and deacons ordained by
Ebbo were dismissed. They appealed to Rome; and, in
866, Nicholas the First commanded the revision of the
matter: a new council took place at Soissons; and the pope
addressed to the assembled bishops a long letter, in which
the conduct of Hincmar, in that of 853, was harshly
censured :
" There,'' said he, " we saw the archbishop sometimes
laying aside, sometimes reassuming his rights; sometimes
submitting himself to the council, sometimes presiding over
it; by turns, the accused, accuser, and judge; ruling all
things after his own fancy, changing his part unceasingly, and
thus taking the semblance of a certain animal, which is not
always of one and the same colour." '
Opposed by such reproaches and by the influence of
Charles le Chauve himself, who, this time, showed favour
to his adversaries, the predominance of Hincmar in the Gallo-
Frankish church failed; the dismissed clergymen were re
established in their canonical rank; and, notwithstanding
the discretion which the pope recommended them to observe
towards Hincmar in their conquest, the defeat was a marked
one for him.
The same struggle with the same result was renewed upon
other occasions, with the detail of which I will not occupy
your time. Upon such occasions, we find Nicholas the First
sometimes keeping fair with, sometimes severely reprimanding
Hincmar; and the latter, upon his part, in his correspondence
with the pope, appears singularly embarrassed and fluctuating
in his maxims and language. Sometimes he himself reco
gnises, and, in magnificent terms, proclaims the sovereignty
of the pope; sometimes he defends the rights of archbishops
and of bishops, and seems even to lay the foundations of a
1 Labbe, Concil., vol. viii., col. 834.

358 HISTORY OF
national independent church; and then he presently abandons
all that he has said upon the subject, as if he feared to be
accused of maxims and intentions, which, nevertheless, he
could not suppress, which, haply, he wished to become appa
rent. His letters to the pope, inserted by Frodoard in his
Histoire de l'Eglise de Reims, betray, at every word, this
uncertainty of ideas and desires.
All things considered, and remembering the vast differ
ence of mind and times, there was, in the situation and
conduct of Hincmar, whether towards the civil power or the
papacy, some analogy with the situation and conduct of Bos-
suet, in nearly similar questions, in the seventeenth century.
Not that these two great bishops bear the least resemblance
,to one another as writers: a talent for writing, a genius for
expression, brilliancy of imagination and style were wholly
wanting to Hincmar; and, looking merely to his works, the
idea would never arise of tracing any relation between him
and Bossuet. But when we look deeper, the analogy becomes
substantial, and the two men are explained and elucidated one
by the other. Through all the fluctuations, all the changes
of his language, we recognise in Hincmar a firm and bold
mind, a powerful logician, who, when he had once conceived
a principle or a system, unfolded its consequences skilfully,
and, in the freedom of his thought, followed them without
hesitation to their last results. But he was, at the same time,
a man of strong common sense, and of great practical under
standing, who saw what obstacles were opposed to his ideas by
external circumstances, and did not allow himself to be de
ceived by the seduction of logic, concerning the possibility or
expediency of their application. In writing, he laid down or
deduced maxims with that loftiness of thought which seems to
delight in its own bold and free development. In acting, no
fact, no detail of the true situation escaped him; he compre
hended all that ought to influence the conduct of the matter,
all that was required in order to succeed; he wisely measured
the possible, and attempted that and no more. Hence the
embarrassment which sometimes appears in his ideas and
words; sometimes it is the logician, sometimes the man of
business that predominates; he fluctuates, so to speak, un
ceasingly between the strict stedfastness of his thought aud
the practical impartiality of his reason.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 359
Thus it was with Bossuet, placed in very different society
and circumstances. That lofty genius, that simple and irre
sistible reasoner, who arrived, by a glance, at the last conse
quences of a principle, and grasped them, like a club, to let
them fall at a single blow, upon the head of his adversaries,
more than once exhibited himself, in practice, uncertain, dila
tory, anything but logically strict, inclined to cautious and to
middle courses. Was this mere weakness of soul, compliance,
and a tendency to yield? Sometimes perhaps, but, assuredly,
not always. Another cause led to this contrast. When the
mind of Bossuet was free and in the presence only of its ideas,
whatever might be the system upon which he was engaged,
whether it concerned the pontifical power or a national church,
authority or free inquiry, and whether he wished to attack or
to defend it, he boldly embarked, as M. Turgot expresses him
self, upon the faith of an idea, and voyaged at full sail as far
as it would carry him ; but when it became necessary to act,
when he was called upon actually to regulate the relations of
different powers, of different rights, then all the considera
tions, all the difficulties of action presented themselves to him;
he saw what was required by his times, by the state of society
and of mind; the clear perception and impartiality of his good
sense suppressed the boldness of his thought; and a prudence
and caution, which seemed like servile compliance, took the
place of that intractable dialectic and of that haughty elo
quence which lately characterized him. It is a difficult pro
blem to ally the height and rational consequence of philosophy
with the flexibility of mind and the common sense of the prac
tical man. Hincmar and Bossuet did not solve it; but they
knew how to place themselves, by turns, under the two dif
ferent points of view : they deemed themselves capable, if not
of reconciling, at least of playing the two parts, and it is pre
cisely this superiority that casts their deficiencies into relief.
You will pardon me for having paused awhile upon this
analogy, which seems like a digression; but to be just towards
great men, we must understand them well; and in order to
understand them, we must turn for a long time around them,
for they have a thousand different faces to show us.
II. Within his diocese, in ecclesiastical administration pro
perly so called, Hincmar had no such difficulties to surmount;
he was alone, and master; he could, at least almost always,

360 HISTORY OF
regulate facts according to his ideas; he governed despoti
cally, sometimes even tyrannically, but generally with wisdom,
and to the true interest of the clergy, and of the faithful who
were under him. We have written monuments of his govern
ment; that is to say, capitularies, addressed to his priests, as
those of kings are addressed to their courts, missi dominici,
or other agents. The capitularies of Hincmar which remain
to us, are of four different epochs. The first, addressed in
852, to the clergy of his diocese, after an assembly of the same
clergy, held at Reims, under his presidency, contain forty-
three articles, of which seventeen are in the form of precepts
upon the conduct of priests, and twenty-six in that of inter
rogations and inquiries upon the same subject. The second,
in three articles, are of the year 857; the third, in five arti
cles, of 874; the fourth, in thirteen articles, of 877.1 These
capitularies are generally very judicious; their object is either
to recommend to the clergy regularity of behaviour, know
ledge, and a gentle and legal administration, or to prevent the
vexations of the archdeacons, who were placed between the
simple priest and the bishop, and who often oppressed those
who were under them, or, finally, to protect the diocese
against the invasions of the civil magistrate, the disorders and
the depredations of the laity, &c. They bear witness to an
active, provident, and skilful government, one that was taken
up with the advancement of the moral and material welfare of
its objects.
III. Hitherto, I have endeavoured to show you in Hincmar,
the spiritual or temporal governor, the bishop or councillor of
kings. It remains for us to consider him in his intellectual
activity as theologian; and this is the point of view which in
the present day, at least, and in the questions upon which we
are now occupied, is the most important to us.
Christian theology suffered, at this epoch, that is to say, in
the course of the ninth century, a revolution which has not
generally been recognised. From the sixth to the eighth
century it had been dormant, as, indeed, had been every de
partment of human thought. We do not find that any great
religious questions were discussed in this period : there were
bishops, priests, and monks, but no theologians. It was under
1 Hincm. Op., vol. i., p. 710—741.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 361
Charlemagne that theological discussions recommenced; you
remember that we then met with discussions upon the wor
ship of images, the nature of Jesus Christ, the procession of
the Holy Ghost; and intellectual activity, once set in motion
in this direction, ceased not to advance in it. But it soon
changed its character. Created in the first five centuries by
the Greek and Roman fathers, Christian theology, even in
combating, received the impress of that ancient civilization,
in the bosom of which it had been born. The system of dog
mas, put forth and arranged by St. Basil, St. Athanasius, St.
Jerome, St. Hilary, St. Augustin, &c, differed essentially
from all the systems of the stoics, platonists, peripatetics, neo-
platonists, &c, and yet it connected itself with them; it was
a philosophy, a doctrine, of which the decisions of the church
were not the only source, nor its authority the only support.
When, after a sleep of a hundred and fifty years, the theolo
gical movement recommenced in the west, the fathers of the
first centuries, especially St. Augustin, were regarded as irre
fragable authorities, as masters of the faith. They were to
the theologians who then began to arise, what the apostles
and the holy books had been to themselves. But the condi
tion of society, both civil and religious, was completely
changed; and the new theologians, in adopting the fathers as
masters, found it impossible to reproduce or even to imitate
them. There was an abyss between the theology of the first
five centuries, which was born in the bosom of Roman society,
and the theology of the middle ages, which was born in the
bosom of the Christian church, and truly commenced in the
ninth century. I cannot pretend to treat in this place of the
new and important question of their difference and its causes;
I can do no more than indicate its existence, by the way, and
in one particular subject.
Two kinds of religious questions re-appeared at this period;
1st, questions purely Christian, that is to say, which belonged
especially to Christianity, and which do not necessarily arise
in all religious philosophies, because they are not connected,
or are, at least, very remotely connected, with the general
nature of man; such, for instance, are the questions relating
to the nature of Jesus Christ, the Trinity, transubstantiation,
&c. 2nd, general questions which are met with in all re
ligions and in all philosophies, because they arise from the

362 HISTORY OF
very essence of human nature, as for instance, the question of
the origin of good and evil, that of atonement, that of free
will and predestination, &c.
I have nothing to say to the first; they belong to pure
Christian theology; the second come within the general do
main of thought. I will select from the latter the questions
of free-will and predestination, to which I have already called
your attention, that arose in the ninth century, and upon
which Hincmar and all the great minds of that epoch were
long and intensely occupied.
I pray you call to mind, as accurately as you can, the state
in which we left this question at the beginning of the ninth
century, after the struggle of St. Augustin and his disciples
against Pelagius and his successors. Two great heresies
present themselves to sur view: 1st, that of the Pelagians
and of the anti-Pelagia is, who attributed to the free choice
and free-will of man tie principal part in his moral life, and
greatly abridged the action of God upon the human soul, over
which they yet endeavoured to preserve it; 2nd, that of the
predestinarians, who well nigh annul human freedom, and
attribute the moral life and destiny of man to the direct action
of the Divinity. We have seen the predestinarians pretending'
to be alone the faithful disciples of St. Augustin, and deducing
their principles from his works. We have seen St. Augustin
disowning them, refusing to abolish human freedom; and we
have seen the church, after his example, placing herself, with
more good sense than philosophical consequence, between the
two parties, condemning, on the one hand, the predestinarians,
on the other, the Pelagians or semi-Pelagians, and at once
maintaining, without reconciling, the freedom of man and the
all-powerful action of divine grace upon his soul. It was at
this point we left the discussion.1
When it was recommenced in the ninth century, minds
were much changed; the fathers of the first centuries,
St. Augustin among others, had regarded all questions, and
especially this, under a triple aspect: 1st, as philosophers
examining things in themselves: 2nd, as heads of the church
charged with governing it; 3rd, as teachers of the faith, and
called upon to maintain orthodoxy — that is- to say, to harmo
nize the solution of all questions with the essential principles
1 Lecture 5

• CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 363
of Christianity. I have endeavoured to show how the com
bination of these various characters was calculated to exert,
and, in fact, did exert the greatest influence upon the quarrel
originated by Pelagius. In the ninth century, nothing of
the kind existed; minds had no longer so much freedom
and greatness; no one was any longer like St. Augustin,
at once a philosopher, head of the church, and teacher of the
faith; the theologians, above all, had become total strangers
to the philosophical point of view. Their doctrine reposed
exclusively upon the texts of the fathers who had preceded
them, and applied itself only to the deduction of consequences
from rules of belief already laid down. From the epoch
at which we are now, the essential character of the theo
logical spirit is, never to examine things in themselves, but
to judge of all ideas by their relations to certain determined
principles. The theologians in this respect have played the
same part in modern Europe as was played by the juris
consults in the Roman world. The Roman jurisconsults
did not examine what we call the general principles of
law, or natural law; they had for their point of departure,
certain axioms, certain legal precedents; and their skill con
sisted in subtilly unravelling the consequences, in order to
apply them to particular cases, as they presented themselves.
Thus the Roman jurisconsults were logicians of admirable
ingenuity and accuracy, but they were never philosophers.
The theologians of the middle ages were similarly constituted;
they applied themselves to the same kind of work, and at
tained the same excellences — namely, accuracy and logical
subtlety — and fell into the same faults — namely, want of
attention to facts themselves, and of any feeling for reality.
Now, in the question of free-will and grace, in particular,
St. Augustin had laid down all the principles. His doctrines
were made the obligatory point of departure, from which no
one dared to confess that he deviated. Whatever opinion a
man desired to maintain, whether human freedom or pre
destination, it was only by reasoning upon texts of St.
Augustin, and taking them for his rule, that he was allowed
to defend his system. The discussion, in short, became a
matter of logic; it was no longer a question of philosophy.
It was under this banner and these conditions that the dispute
recommenced. I will tell you how, and upon what occasion.

364 HISTORY OF
A monk, Saxon by birth, named Gottschalk, lived in the
abbey of Fulda, under the discipline of the abbot Raban,
whom I have already mentioned, and who was afterwards
archbishop of Mayence, and one of the most celebrated
theologians of the time. Gottschalk, we knpw not for what
reasons, did not wish any longer to remain as monk in this
abbey, and he succeeded in annulling his monastic engage
ment. Raban conceived a strong antipathy to him on this
account. Gottschalk quitted the abbey of Fulda, and retired
into that of Orbais, situated in the diocese of Soissons, and,
consequently, under the jurisdiction of Hincmar, as arch
bishop. About the year 847, Gottschalk (it is not known
upon what occasion) went upon a pilgrimage to Rome. In
returning, he stopped in a valley of Piedmont, at the house
of a count of the place, named Eberhard. There he had,
either with count Eberhard, or with Noting, bishop of Verona,
who was also staying there, long theological conversations, and
he maintained that the good and the bad, the elect and the
reprobate, were equally and from all time predestinated by the
divine omnipotence and omniscience to their present and
future fate. The bishop of Verona, shocked at this opinion,
whether because it was new to him, or because it had long
been repugnant to him, denounced it to Raban, now become
archbishop of Mayence, and prevailed upon him to combat it.
Raban, already prepossessed against Gottschalk, wrote to count
Eberhard, informing him that he harboured a heretic in his
house. Gottschalk, accused, departed immediately, in order to
defend himself. We find him at Mayence, in 848, addressing
to Raban a justification of his conduct. But it was con
demned by the council which assembled the same year at
Mayence; and, by order of the council, Raban wrote to
Hincmar: " Know, your Dilection, that a certain wandering monk,
named Gottschalk, who affirms that he was ordained priest in
your diocese, is come from Italy to Mayence, disseminating
new superstitions, and a pernicious opinion concerning the pre
destination of God, seducing people into error; for he says
that there is a predestination of God, as regards the good as
well as the wicked, and that, in this world, there are certain
men whom the predestination of God forces to pursue the
path of death, not being able to correct their error and their

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 365
sin, as if God in the beginning had created them incorrigible.
.... Having lately heard this opinion from his own mouth,
at a council held at Mayence, and having found him incorri
gible, by the consent and order of our very pious king Louis,
we have decided, after having condemned him, as well as his
pernicious doctrine, to send him to you, in order that you
may retain him in your diocese, from whence he irregularly
went forth, and that you may not permit him any longer to
teach error, and seduce the Christian people. According to
report, he has already seduced many persons, and has rendered
them less devoted to the work of their salvation; for they
say: ' To what purpose shall I labour in the service of God?
If I am predestinated to death, I shall never escape from it;
and if I am predestinated to life, even though I do wickedly,
I shall, no doubt, arrive at eternal rest.' "
Hincmar was at bottom little of a theologian; the spirit of
government and practical dexterity predominated in him,
and he had not made a very attentive study of the fathers.
When the letter of Raban reached him, he judged of Gotts
chalk and his opinions according to the instinct of common
sense, rather than according to any profound and extensive
acquaintance with theology. He was, moreover, haughty and
despotic. Gottschalk agitated the faithful, and resisted his
superiors. Hincmar forthwith (in 849) condemned him by a
council held at Kiersy-sur-Oise, and, thinking to subdue him
by force, ordered him to be publicly scourged, and summoned
to retract his opinions and to cast his writings into the fire.
But the arrogance of despotism can never force the obstinacy
of conscience. Gottschalk resisted all, and was shut up in
the prison of the monastery of Hautvilliers, where he was
treated with extreme severity.
The matter soon became noised about. Hincmar was not
well acquainted with the spirit of his contemporary theologians,
nor with the power which an argument, drawn from St.
Augustin, could exercise over them. Whether from pity
for Gottschalk, who had been so barbarously treated, or rather
through the prevalence of the theological spirit, a loud clamour
was raised against the conduct of the archbishop of Reims.
Some very influential men in the Gallo-Frankish church.
Prudence, bishop of Troyes, Loup, abbot of Ferrieres,
Ratramne, monk of Corbie, and many others, attacked him

366 HISTORY OF
nearly all af the same time. They did not positively take thft
part of Gottschalk, but they declared against the treatment.
which he had suffered, protested against the meaning that
was attributed to his words, and maintained the doctrine of
predestination, rejecting only so much of it as seemed con
trary to divine justice.
Hincmar was not prepared for such a storm. He wrote to
Raban, who had drawn it upon him, to persuade him to
defend what they had thought and done in common; Raban,
intimidated, did not write, and left Hincmar exposed to the
danger alone. Seeking upon all sides for champions, the
archbishop of Reims addressed himself first of all to a priest
of Metz, named Amalaise, who, at his request, wrote a work
against Gottschalk, which is now lost. A man of much talent
and learning, Scotus Erigena, concerning whom I shall soon
speak more in detail, was at that time in great favour at the
court of Charles le Chauve. Hincmar persuaded him to write
against predestination, and he readily consented; but Erigena
was a philosopher and a free thinker; he made the fact of
human liberty much greater than any other had represented
it, mingled in his defence a number of opinions repugnant to
the theological world, and compromised Hincmar instead of
serving him. The explosion was far more violent against
him than it had been against the archbishop of Reims; con
troversial writings became multiplied; triumphant theologians
discovered a thousand heresies in the work of Scotus Erigena.
The church of Lyons, in particular, under its archbishop
Remi, took a very active part in this war. An ill-suppressed
struggle had always existed between the south and north of
Gaul. The south of Gaul had preserved more considerable
remains of Roman civilization; the character of the north was
much more German. The archbishop of Lyons was the most
important prelate of southern Gaul, as the archbishop of
Reims was the most important of northern Gaul. The
rivalry of sees became coupled with the opposition of doc
trines. Compromised by his writers, Hincmar, in order to
defend himself, had recourse to the arms of authority. A
council, held at Kiersy, in 853, laid down, in four articles,
the opinions which it pronounced orthodox upon this matter,
and Gottschalk found himself condemned thereby for the
second time. But the archbishop of Lyons was alsc abfe to

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 367
invoke councils and to cause articles to be written; and
he summoned one at Valence, in 855, and the articles of
Kiersy were condemned by it in their turn. Hincmar again
invoked the aid of learning and argument; but this time he
determined to entrust the task to no one, and he himself, in
857 and 859, wrote two works upon predestination, of which
one is lost; the other, which remains to us, is addressed to
Charles le Chauve, and is divided into forty-four chapters,
including six chapters of epilogue. The whole course of the
controversy is herein reproduced, with a great display of
theological erudition; but, in reality, the theological spirit is
wanting; there is more of good sense exhibited in the general
ideas than of subtlety in the argumentation; and, as theolo
gians, properly so called, the adversaries of Hincmar had the
advantage over him.
His works failed, therefore, in putting a stop to the quarrel ;
and the matter ended by its being carried to Rome, like all
other great questions of the time. It is difficult to affirm
that Nicholas the First took any positive part, or that he
declared either one or other of the opinions to have been the
doctrine of the church. Nevertheless, we see plainly that he
inclined to the ideas of Gottschalk, and to the canons of the
councils of Valence, confirmed, in 859, by the council of
Langres. His correspondence and his conduct in this matter
are unfavourable to Hincmar.
The dispute was thus prolonged, becoming, however, cooler,
until the death of Gottschalk, which happened suddenly on
the 30th of October, 868 or 869. A little while before, when
they saw him very ill, the monks of Hautvilliers, 'where he
was in prison, consulted Hincmar as to what they were to do
in his case: the inflexible bishop replied that it was absolutely
necessary that he should retract his opinions, and that other
wise they must refuse him confession and the sacrament. Not
less inflexible than his persecutor, Gottschalk again refused
to retract, and died beneath the severities which he was suf
fering. Hincmar survived him only three years. He died,
in his turn, on the 21st of December, 882, driven from his
episcopal city by an incursion of the Normans, and still
engaged in writing, at Epernay, where he had taken refuge.
It is time for me to pause; one remark will conclude my
account of this great controversy. You may see three elements

368 HISTORY OF
appearing in it; the three spirits, so to speak, of which the
coexistence and the struggle for a long while constituted the
intellectual history of modern Europe: 1. the logical spirit
which predominated among theologians by profession, en
gaged exclusively in arguing, in deducing consequences from
principles, which were never called into question ; 2. the
political spirit, peculiar, in general, to the heads of the church,
who were, above all, charged with the duties of government,
and were much more engaged with the practical than the logical
point of view, with business than discussion; 3. finally, the
philosophical spirit, existing in certain free-thinkers, who
yet endeavoured to regard things in themselves, and to seek
for truth, independently both of practical aim and predeter
mined principle. The theological spirit, the political spirit,
and the philosophical spirit, were all openly at work in this
affair; Hincmar represented the politicians, Gottschalk the
theologians, Scotus Erigena the philosophers. The last I
have scarcely more than named to you; I shall treat of him
at full in my next lecture.

CIVIL 1/.ATI0N IN FRANCE. 369

TWENTY-NINTH LECTURE.

Subject of the lecture — Of the philosophical spirit in the 9th century—
Scotus or Erigena — His country — Date of his birth — Tradition respect
ing his travels in Greece — He settles in France, at the court of Charles
le Chauve — Of the School of the Palace under Charles — Ancient
philosophy studied there — Encouragement of Scotus Erigena — -His
learning — Relations of Christianity with the Neoplatonism of Alexandria
— Their struggle — Attempt at amalgamation — History and pretended
works of Dionysius the Areopagite — Fundamental differences of the two
doctrines : 1, in the point of departure and the method ; 2, in the
bases of the questions — These differences occur between Scotus
Erigena and the Christian theologians of the 9th century — Examination
of his works : 1, De Praedestinatione ; 2, De Divisione Naturae — His
celebrity and his death — Recapitulation.
I reminded you, in the last lecture, of the two fundamental
elements to which we may ascribe the intellectual developmenf
of modern Europe: Christianity, on the one part, and ancient
literature on the other; Christian theology and pagan philo
sophy, religious polemics and classical learning; already, at
the end of the eighth century, at the moment of the intellectua.
revival of Frankish Gaul, under Charlemagne, we have
recognised the presence of these two elements in Alcuin
whom we considered as the most faithful image of the state
of the mind at this epoch. In proportion as this influence
developed itself, they became distinct and separate: about the
middle of the ninth century, two men appeared to us as the
representatives, one of the theological, the other of the philo
sophical element. I named to you Hincmar and John Eri
gena; I led you to a consideration, in the history of Hincmar,
VOL. II. B B

370 HISTORY OF
of the theological life of his time: let us now try to ascertain
if any philosophical life corresponded to it; it is from the
history of John Erigena that we shall learn it.
There exists amongst scholars much uncertainty respecting
the date of his birth and his country. The uncertainty re
specting his country appears to me not well founded: his
double name indicates it clearly. John Erigena, or John
Scotus, means John of Ireland. Ireland was anciently called
Erin, and its people were of the same race as the population
of the highlands of Scotland, the Scots. The name Erigena
points out therefore his country, that of Scotus his race and
nation. All the little difficulties, all the elaborate conjectures
of the learned, fall to the ground before this simple fact.
With respect to the date of the birth of John, it is more
difficult to determine anything, and I will not enter upon a
minute and purposeless discussion of this subject. All that
can be affirmed, is that he was born in the early part of the
ninth century, from the year 800 to 815. We do not know
where he passed his childhood, or where he followed his first
studies. The peculiarities of his knowledge, however, agree
ing with natural probabilities, give rise to the belief that it
was in Ireland. Of all the western countries, Ireland was,
as you know, that wherein letters maintained themselves and
prospered, amidst the general confusion of Europe.
A tradition which we find prevailing at an early period,
attributes to John Scotus travels in the east, in Greece
particularly; we read, in a manuscript deposited in the library
of Oxford, a passage of his which seems to point at them:
" I quitted," said he, " no place or temple where the phi
losophers were accustomed to compose or deposit their secret
works, without inspecting it; and there was not one amongst
such scholars, as might be supposed to possess any knowledge
of philosophical writings, whom I did not question."1 -,
He does not indicate, you see, any place or period; yet his
words seem to relate to a country where the ancient philo
sophers lived and laboured. No other document sheds fur
ther light upon these travels; and the knowledge possessed^
by John Erigena of Greek literature does not appear to me
a conclusive proof. However the case may have been, about
• Wood's Hist, and Antiquit. Univers. Oxon., in foi. 1674, vol. i. p 15-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 371
the middle of the ninth century, we find him settled for life at
the court of Charles le Chauve. . There has also been much
dispute about the date of his arrival; it has been placed as
far forward as the year 870; but the error of this appears evi
dent to me. Many documents indicate that John was con
nected with Saint Prudence before the latter became bishop
of Troyes in 847. It was probably, therefore, between the
years 840 and 847 that John Erigena went into France,
perhaps attracted thither by a formal invitation from Charles
le Chauve.
History gives a very false idea of this prince and his
court — not certainly under the political point of view; all
that it says of the weakness of the government and the falling
condition of France is well founded; but under the intellec
tual point of view there was much more activity and liberty
of spirit, much more taste for letters than is commonly
supposed. The School of the Palace, so flourishing under
Charlemagne, and under the teaching of Alcuin, had greatly
fallen away under Louis le Debonnaire. Louis had beer
engaged much more with the church than with science, t/.id
much more with the religious reform of the monasteries than
with the progress of study. The School of the Palace was thus
a subject little considered, a sure proof of its decay; for the
. social state was not then such that it could subsist by itself,
and without powerful protection. Charles le Chauve revived
it; he summoned thither foreign scholars, especially Irish
and Anglo-Saxons; he treated them with marked favour; he
appreciated their works and their conversation, and lived on
familiar terms with them. The School of the Palace resumed
such a splendour that contemporaries were struck with it as
with a novelty. To judge by the words of Herric, a monk
of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, and of Wandalbert, a monk of
Frum, in t'he diocese of Treves, the prosperity of the studies
at those places became such that Greece might have envied
the fortune of France, and that France had nothing for which
to envy antiquity. There is, no doubt, great monastic em
phasis in the phrase; but, at all events, the public at the time
were so struck with the revival of letters in the court of
Charles le Chauve, that instead of saying the School of the
Palace (Schola Palatii) they said, the Palace of the School
(Palatium Schola). What, then, was the direction of mind
b b 2

372 HISTORY OF
in this flourishing school? what studies were preferred? We
may, I think, affirm, that ancient philosophy and literature
held a high place there. Of this we have abundant and
apparently undeniable proofs.
The first are deducible from the works of John Erigena
himself, chief of the School of the Palace, and teacher there.
Of these works, ancient philosophy, as you will presently see,
is generally the object. Not only did the original works
which he has left emanate from this source; not only did he
translate many treatises of the Neoplatonic school of Alex
andria; but it appears certain that there exist in manu
script in many libraries, especially in that of Oxford, com
mentaries by him on several works of Aristotle; and in the
twelfth century, at the very moment when the peripatetic
philosophy resumed in the west a despotic empire, Roger
Bacon lauded Scotus Erigena as a very faithful and clear
sighted interpreter of Aristotle, and awarded him the merit
of having preserved, pure and authentical, certain of his
writings. It is said, also, that Scotus Erigena applied himself to the
study of the works of Plato ; and in some sentences of
his on these two masters of antiquity, he has passed so strong
and precise a judgment upon them, as to negative the sup
position that he knew them merely from the writings of cer
tain of their disciples, or from vague traditions. He calls
Plato " the greatest philosopher in the world," and Aristotle
" the most subtle investigator, among the Greeks, of the dif
ferences of natural things." 1
It is not to be doubted that he understood Greek well,
since he translated the treatises attributed, to Dionysius the
Areopagite, and gave a Greek title to his principal work.
There is also reason to think that he understood Hebrew, by
far the most unusual accomplishment of his time; for, in citing
a verse of Genesis, he corrects the Vulgate; and instead of
saying, as St. Jerome, " Terra autem erat invisibilis et income
posita," he says, " Terra erat inanis et vacua ;" a translation
far more exact, and nearer the original.2
Lastly, a celebrated scholar of his time, named Mannon,
1 Scot. Erig., De Divisione Natura, vol. i. c 3-3, c. 16.
* Ibid,, vol. ii., chap 20.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 373
succeeded Scotus Erigena as director of the School of the
Palace, and held that office, until the death of Louis le
Begue; and Mannon, like Erigena, made ancient philosophy
his principal study. Many contemporaries praised the learned
lectures which he gave on this subject; there exists, we are
assured, in some libraries of Holland, commentaries by him
on Plato's discourses on Laws, and on the Republic, and also
on Aristotle's Ethics.
Were all these indications wanting, or were they to prove
unworthy of credit — were we to possess no direct and positive
assertion concerning the study which Scotus Erigena made
of the Greek philosophers, the language of his contemporaries
would reveal clearly the tendency and character of his works.
I have told you what an uproar was created amongst theolo
gians by his treatise on predestination, written at the request
of Hincmar, against Gottschalk. The following are the terms
in which Florus, a priest of the church of Lyons, immediately
attacked him:
" In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ," commences the
book of Florus, " against the follies and errors of a certain
oresumptuous man named John, on predestination and divine
prescience, and the true liberty of human thought.
" There have reached us, that is, the church of Lyons, the
writings of a certain vain and ostentatious man, who, disput
ing upon divine prescience and predestination by means of
arguments of a purely human, and, as he himself boasts,
philosophical kind, has dared, without assigning any reason,
and without alleging any authority from the scriptures and
holy fathers, to affirm certain things, as though they ought to
be received and adopted on his sole and presumptuous asser
tion. By the assistance of God, readers, who are faithful and
well exercised in the sacred doctrine, easily judge and reject
these writings, which are so full of vanity, falsehood, and
error, and which offend the faith and divine truth, and are to
them an object of contempt and derision. Nevertheless, from
what we have heard say, this same man is much admired by
many persons, for being learned and versed in the knowledge
of the schools: whether by speaking or writing, he casts some
in doubt, and others he draws away with him in his error, as
though he uttered something remarkable; and, by the vain
and pernicious flow of his words, he so takes possession of

374 HISTORY OF
his hearers and admirers, that they no longer yield themselves
to the divine scriptures, nor the authority of the fathers, but
prefer following his fantastic reveries. We have, therefore,
judged it necessary, through charitable zeal, and for the sake
of our city and our order, to reply to his insolence," &C.1
You observe that the character of the writings and ideas
of Scotus Erigena is clearly portrayed in the accusation here
put forth against him; he is denounced for purely human, and,
according to his own words, philosophical arguments, and as
being learned and versed in the knowledge of the schools. It
was, in short, as a philosopher that he was condemned. In
855, the council of Valence decreed as follows :
" We banish absolutely from the pious ears of the faithful,
as useless, nay, even as hurtful and contrary to the truth,
the four articles (capitula) adopted with so little foresight
by the council of our brethren,2 and the nineteen other
capitula? very foolishly set down in syllogisms, wherein no
ability, though they are lauded in this respect, shines in the
secular point of view, and wherein we find an invention of the
devil, rather than any argument for the faith. By the authority
of the Holy Spirit, we interdict them everywhere, and we
think that those who introduce novelties ought to be punished,
in order to prevent the necessity of having afterwards to
strike harder." 4
Some years after, in 859, the council of Langres renewed
the same sentence of condemnation against Scotus Erigena.
Both accusers and judges, the simple clergy and the assem
blies of the church, were then unanimous in their judgment
of Scotus Erigena, and the character of his works. Let us
see what he says himself; he describes and paints himself
as his enemies have painted him.
His treatise on predestination begins thus: —
" Since, in earnestly investigating and attempting to dis
cover surely the reasons of all things, every means of at- '
taining to a pious and perfect doctrine, lies in that science
1 Vetenim Auctorum qui ix. stcculo de Prtcdestinatione el Gratia scrip- I
seruni Opera et Fragmenta, published by the president Mauguin; 2 vol. to
4to, v. i., p. 585. Paris, 1650.
2 The council of Kiersy.
a The nineteen chapters of Scotus Erigena's treatise on Predestination.
* Council of Valence in 855, can. 4.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 375
and discipline which the Greeks call philosophy, we think it
necessary to speak in a few words of its divisions and classi
fications. ' It is believed and taught,' says St. Augustin,
' that philosophy, that is, the love of wisdom, is no other than
religion; and what proves it is, that we do not receive the
sacraments in common with those whereof we do not approve
the doctrine.' What, then, is the object of philosophy but
to set forth the rules of true religion, whereby we rationally
seek and humbly adore God, the first cause and sovereign of
all things? From thence it follows that true philosophy is
true religion, and conversely, that true religion is true philo
sophy."1 Is not this evidently the language of a man who is much
more a philosopher than a theologian, and who takes his point
of departure in philosophy, attempting to mix, or at least
to reconcile it with religion, either because he considers them
as one and the same science, or because he has need of the
shield of religion to protect himself against the attacks of
which he is the object?
Again, in his work On the Division of Nature: —
" We must follow' in all things the authority of the holy
scriptures, for the truth is there enclosed as in a secret
sanctuary; but we must not think that, in order to endow us
with the' divine nature, the holy scripture always employs
precise and literal words and signs; it makes use of simili
tudes, strained and figurative expressions, adapts itself to
our weakness, and raises, by a simple mode of teaching, our
dull and immature spirits." 2
Who does not recognise here an effort, very often made,
to avoid the strict interpretation of texts or dogmas, and to
introduce into the study of religion some liberty of thcught,
under the veil of explanation and allegory?
We cannot doubt it: even before examining deeply into
the ideas of Scotus Erigena, and judging only by the tradi
tions which remain to us respecting his works, by the lan
guage of the church and of his enemies, and by his own, the
philosophical character appears vividly in the life and spirit of
this man; he differs from theologians essentially; it is to
1 Divina. Prmdest. c. i., col. of Maug., v. i. p. 221
2 X)e K.-' -"-Ws v. i., c. GB.

376 history or
antiquity that he belongs, it is of ancient knowledge that he
discourses to his contemporaries.
His character was by no means a cause of disfavour with
Charles le Chauve. It is well attested, on the contrary, that
Charles often attended his lectures, took a lively interest in
them, and consulted him upon all the affairs, upon all the
intellectual difficulties, so to speak, which arose in his king
dom. An anecdote in a manuscript of William of Malmes
bury, a chronicler of the thirteenth century, will show you to
what an extent the familiarity of the king with the philosopher
was carried:
" John," says he, " was seated at table in front of the
king, who sat at the other side of the table; when the viands
had disappeared, and jokes began to circulate, in a light
humour and after some other pleasantries, seeing John do
something which shocked the Gallic politeness, the king re
buked him mildly, saying, ' Quid distat inter solium et
Scotum f (what separates a sot from a Scot?) ' Nothing but
the table,' replied John, returning the quip to its author."1
Are not these the liberties of a licensed bel-esprit, who
believes all things are permitted to him because he amuses
and pleases.
It was, I am much disposed to think, this encouragement
of Scotus Erigena by Charles le Chauve, that suggested to
Hincmar the idea of gaining his interference in his quarrel
with Gottschalk, by engaging him to write on his behalf.
Hincmar (as I have already remarked) was more of a poli
tician than theologian, more filled with the idea of governing
than reasoning, and rather aiming at success than truth. He
found himself in a difficult position; most of the theologians
of Frankish Gaul were rising against him; the celebrated
Raban, after having compromised him, refused to support
him. He applied to Scotus Erigena, wishing, doubtless, to
profit at once by his interest and by his knowledge, and
hoping to find in him an able and influential defender.
But Hincmar knew not what an ally he was calling to his'
assistance, and in what a strife he was again about to engage.
In order to make clearly understood the turn which the
question then took, and the part which Scotus Erigena
played in it, I am obliged to ascend a step higher.
1 William of Malmesbury, in his unpublished work. De Pontificilus.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 377
Christianity, in order to establish itself, had had to vanquish
all sorts of enemies, governments, nations, priests, and pa
gans, civil, as well as religious power, and laws as well as
customs. But in the intellectual order, the Alexandrine neo-
platonism had been its sole adversary.
Properly speaking, it was between the Neoplatonists of
Alexandria, and the Christians, that the question lay. From
the second century, some attempts had been made by the
rival schools at conciliating, or rather at amalgamating the
two doctrines. St. Clement of Alexandria, who died in 220,
and Origen, from 185 to 254, were disciples of the Alexan
drine philosophy, Neoplatonists become Christians, and who
endeavoured to accommodate their philosophical doctrines
to the Christian creeds which were developing themselves and
taking the form of a system. In the course of the third or fourth
centuries, these attempts were once more renewed: but it was
in the middle of the sixth, that they became most vigorous.
The victory was then completely on the side of Christianity;
the Alexandrian Neoplatonism, abandoned by princes, and
decried, and persecuted, had no alternative but to lose itself
in the bosom of its enemy, preserving of itself only so much
as Christianity would consent to receive. We see, indeed, at
that time most of the philosophers of this school, become or
near becoming Christians, blending their old opinions with
their new faith, by endeavouring to make them agree. To
this epoch belongs, for example, the dialogue of iEneas of
Gaza, a disciple of Hierocles, entitled, " Theophrastus ; or on
the immortality of the soul and the resurrection of the body"
and that of Zacharius the Scholastic, entitled, ' Ammonius ;
or on the construction of the world, against the philoso-
vhers ;" writings, the design of which was evidently to intro
duce into the theology of St. Athanasius, St. Jerome, and St.
Augustin, such ideas and forms of the expiring philosophy,
as would accommodate themselves with it. There were then,
assuredly, many more works of this kind than are now re
maining to us ; the proof of which is, that they were com
posed with a view to being ascribed to the ancient philoso
phers, in the hope of thereby enforcing upon them more
authority. In the middle of this fifth century, there appeared,
under the name of Dionysius the Areopagite, several treatises
bearing the character which I have just described. Diony-

378 HISTORY OF
sius the Areopagite, was one of the most illustrious names in
Christian traditions, one of the most glorious conquests of
nascent Christianity. He is mentioned for the first time in
the 17th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. This chapter
is so remarkable, and carries in itself, independently of all
external evidence, such indications of authenticity, that I beg
your permission to read the text of the principal passages.
Nowhere is the preaching of Christianity in the midst of an
cient society painted with so much truth and clearness : the
sacred chronicler relates the sojourn of St. Paul at Athens:
" Now while Paul waited for them at Athens, bis spirit was
stirred in him, when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry.
Therefore disputed he in the synagogue with the Jews, and
with the devout persons, and in the market daily with thsm that
met with him. Then certain philosophers of the epicureans and
of the stoics, encountered him. And some said, ' What will
this babbler say?' other some, ' He seemeth to be a setter
forth of strange gods:' because he preached unto them Jesus,
a.id the resurrection. ^
" And they took him, and brought him unto Areopagus,
saying, ' May we know what this new doctrine whereof thou
speakest is? For thou bringest certain strange things to
our ears: we would know, therefore, what these things mean.' "
(For all the Athenians and strangers which were there, spent
their time in nothing else, but either to tell or hear some new
thing.) " Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars' Hill, and said, — 'Ye
men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too super
stitious. For as I passed by and beheld your devotions, I
found an altar with this inscription — To the unknown God.
Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto
you. God that made the world and all things therein, see
ing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in
temples made with hands; neither is worshipped with men's
hands, as though he needed anything, seeing he giveth to all
life, and breath, and all things. That they should seek the
Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though
he be not far from every one of us: for in him we live, and move,
and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have
said, For we are also his offspring. Forasmuch, then, as we
are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the god-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.. 379
head is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and
man's device. And the times of this ignorance God winked
at; but now commandeth all men everywhere to repent:
because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge
the world in righteousness, by that man whom he hath ordained ;
whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he
hath raised him from the dead.
" And when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some
mocked: and others said — ' We .will hear thee again of this
matter.' So Paul departed from among them.
" Howbeit, certain men clave unto him, and believed: among
the which was Dionysius the Areopagite."1
Such a convert would naturally have been cherished by the
new society : accordingly, since that epoch, the name of
Dionysius the Areopagite frequently occurs in Christian
narrations. In the second century, particularly, Saint Justin,
one of the earliest and most able defenders of Christianity,
mentions him on several occasions with honour. Tradition
relates that, towards the end of the first century, in 95,
Dionysius being burnt alive at Athens, obtained the honours
of martyrdom. The fact is possible, but does not rest on any
sure proofs.
Whatever may have been the truth of the case, towards
the end of the fifth century, there appeared . under the name
of Dionysius the Areopagite, several works designed to effect
the amalgamation of the Alexandrian Neoplatonism with
Christian theology; they are entitled: 1. On the Celestial
Hierarchy ; 2. On the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy ; 3. On Divine
Names; 4. Mystical Theology; lastly, to the dogmatic writings
are subjoined ten letters. The forgery is evident: the books
and letters could not have been written before the middle of
the fifth century: facts and customs which did not belong to
the Christian church before that epoch, are therein men
tioned; and at every step we meet with ideas and forms of
style, of which Dionysius the Areopagite could not have had
the least notion. Accordingly, in the first half of the sixth
century, about the year 532, at Constantinople itself, Hypatius,
a rhetorician, attacked the authenticity of these pretended
vrorks of the Athenian senator. But they agreed very well
1 Aots of the Apostles, chap. 17, ver IH — 34.

380 HISTORY .OF
with the nature of an attempt, at that time very actively
prosecuted, and very important in the then state of society;
their object was to effect that reconciliation, that amalgama
tion of Christian dogmas with Neoplatonic ideas which
formed the intellectual problem of the age. Public credulity
was great, true criticism almost dormant; the writings of
which I speak, easily passed into circulation. Several scholars,
amongst others Maximus the Confessor, (in 622,) added com
mentaries to them; and they continued to bear the name of
the illustrious Christian to whom they had been attributed.
At the commencement of the ninth century, a particular
circumstance gave them immense popularity in the west,
and especially in Frankish Gaul. A Saint Denis passed for
having been, about the middle of the third century, the
apostle of the Gauls and the first bishop of Paris. It entered
the heads of some monks to maintain that this Denis and
Dionysius the Areopagite, were one and the same man. The
Christianity of the Gauls was thus referred to an antiquity
far more remote, and might thus boast of a far more illus
trious founder. In 814, Hilduinus, abbot of Saint Denis, the
same by whom Hincmar was educated, wrote a book, entitled
Areopagetica, to uphold the opinion in point. It rapidly
gained credit, and became in Gaul a sort of national creed.
The works of Dionysius the Areopagite were from that time
forward the object of eager curiosity, and in 824, Michael the
Stammerer sent a copy of one of them to Louis le Debonnaire.
The precious MS. was deposited and preserved in the abbey
of Saint Denis; but it was in Greek, and few persons could
understand it. Charles le Chauve engaged Scotus Erigena to
translate it. He undertook this translation, which was pro
bably the work that, of all others, most extended the fame of
his learning in Gaul.
Historically, then, the character of the works of Scotus
Erigena is incontestable. He was in the ninth century the
representative and interpreter of that attempt, commenced in
the second century, and so active in the fifth, at an amalga
mation of the Alexandrine Neoplatonism and Christian
theology. It is under this aspect that he presents himself in
the succession of facts and proper names. He was the last
link of that chain whose first link, a pious delusion had
attempted to trace to Athens herself, to the bosom of the
¦¦¦ Hools of ancient philosophy.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 381
Let us now quit history, and let us penetrate into the
ideas themselves : let us judge from the works of Scotus
Erigena, by comparing them, on the one hand, with those of
the Neoplatonists of Alexandria- — on the other, with those of
the Christian theologians of his time, .whether they indeed
connect themselves with Neoplatonian doctrines, and vainly
attempt to reproduce them and infuse them into Christianity.
I cannot, as you may easily understand, think of here
offering any very extensive or strict comparison between
Alexandrine Neoplatonism and Christianity. I am forced to
limit myself to a few broad features, to the most general
characteristics of the two doctrines; they will suffice, I hope,
to distinguish them, and to show clearly to which Scotus
Erigena properly belonged.
At first sight, and neglecting minor questions, two essential
differences are remarkable between the Alexandrine Neopla
tonism and Christianity. 1st. Neoplatonism is a philosophy,
Christianity a religion. The first has human reason for its
point of departure; it is to her that it addresses itself, her
that it interrogates, in her that it confides. The point of
departure of the second is, on the contrary, a fact exterior to
human reason; it dictates to, instead of interrogating her.
From thence it follows, that free inquiry predominates in
Neoplatonism; it is its fundamental method and habitual
practice; whereas Christianity proclaims authority for its
principle, and proceeds by means of authority. From
thence it again follows that, although the Alexandrine Neo
platonism, to judge of it by the language and character of its
writings, presents itself under a profoundly mystical aspect;
its principle at the bottom is rational; whilst primitive
Christianity, the character of which is in no degree mystical,
which is, on the contrary, very positive and simple, has,
nevertheless, a supernatural principle. There is, then, in the
starting points of these two doctrines, a radical difference.
2nd. If we pass over this question of the point of de
parture, and of the preliminary method of every philosophy,
and examine ideas to the very bottom, a second essential
difference will strike us. The main doctrine of Alexandrine
Neoplatonism is pantheism, the identity of substance and
being, individuality reduced to the condition of a simple
phenomenon, of a transitory fact. Individuality, on the con-

382 HISTORY OF
trary, is the fundamental belief of Christian theology. The
God of the Christians is a distinct being, who communicates
and treats with other beings, to whom the latter address
themselves, who replies to them, whose existence is sovereign,
but not sole. Among many other indications, the diversity
of the two doctrines reveals itself clearly in the idea which
they respectively involve concerning man's future state beyond
his present one of actual existence. How does Necplatonism
view the condition of human beings at the moment of their
death? As being absorbed in the bosom of the great all;
all individuality having been abolished. How, on the other
hand, does Christianity view them? It regards individuality
as perpetuated even to infinity; and an eternity of punish
ments and rewards is substituted for the absorption of indi
vidual beings; so that, casting but a rapid glance at the two
doctrines, we notice a radical difference both in the founda
tion and in the point of departure of the ideas — a difference
which especially appears in the two essential features to which
I have now drawn your attention.
Is it not true, then, that if we find these very same differ
ences between the philosophy of John Scotus Erigena, and
the Christian theology of his time; the filiation of his ideas
and their affinity with Alexandrine Neoplatonism will be as
certain by the very essence of the ideas, as it has appeared
to us by historical traditions?
Independently of his translation of the pretended works of
Dionysius the Areopagite, and of some treatises now lost, or
still in manuscript,1 there remains to us two great works of
Scotus Erigena: 1st, his treatise, De Pr&destinatione, of
which I have already spoken to you; 2nd, a treatise entitled,
lit pt $>vheo>s Mepiapov, Concerning the Division of Nature,
wliich contains the systematic exposition of his ideas on man
<ind the universe.
From these two works alone I shall select the quotations
io be presently offered to your view. The first is found in
the collection of writings relative to the quarrel between
Hincmar and Gottschalk, published by the president Mau-
1 Among others, a treatise on the Vision of God, of which Mabillon had
seen the MS. in the library of Clairmarest, near St. Omer, and which com
menced with these words : Omnes sensus corporei nascunttir ex conjunctione
animce et corporis.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 383
gnin. But, by an ill fortune, which I have attempted in vain
to remedy, I shall be unable to present you with an analysis,
whose, accuracy I could guarantee, of the second, which is of
most importance, for I could discover it in none of the
libraries of Paris. It was published in Oxford in 1681, by
Thomas Gale, in one volume, folio. Great kindness has been
shown towards me, at the different public libraries, in. the
efforts that have been made to find it; but, unfortunately,
none of them contain it. I have also made inquiries for it in
England, but have not yet obtained it. I have therefore
been obliged to content myself with the extracts and nume
rous quotations which I have found in several histories of
philosophy, and particularly in two German dissertations,
whereof Scotus Erigena is the special object.1 I should say
also, by the way, that it has been demonstrated to me, by the
attentive examination which I have made of them, that many
foreign writers who have spoken of this work have not had
it before them, any more than myself, in its entire state. Of
this they ought to have made their readers aware.
I begin with the first question, the preliminary question of
every doctrine, that of the point of departure and the method.
I have just shown you what, with respect to this, was the
radical difference between Alexandrine Neoplatonism and
Christian theology, and how one had reason for its principle,
— the other, authority. The following are some of the pas
sages wherein Scotus Erigena expresses his thoughts on this
subject: I.
" Nature'' (by nature he means the universe, all created
things,) " and time were created together, but authority does
not date from the origin of time and nature. Reason is born
at the commencement of things, with time and nature.
Reason itself demonstrates it. Authority is derived from
reason, and not reason from authority. An authority which
is not acknowledged by reason seem3 valueless. Reason, on
the contrary, invincibly resting on its own strength, has no
need of the confirmation of any authority. Legitimate
1 One is entitled, John Scotus Erigena ; or, On the Origin of a Christian
Philosophy and its Holy Mission, by P. Hiort, Copenhagen, 1823 ; the
other, The Mysticism of the Middle Ages in their Infancy, ty H. Schmid,
lena, 1824.

384 HISTORY OF
authority appears to me to be but truth unfolded by the force
of reason, and transmitted by the holy fathers, for the use of
future generations." 1 II.
" We should not allege the opinions of the holy fathers,
especially if they are knpwn to most people, unless it be neces
sary thereby to strengthen arguments in the eyes of men,
who, unskilful in reasoning, yield rather to authority than to
reason."2 in.
" The salvation of faithful souls consists in believing what
we have reason to affirm concerning the sole principle of all
things, and in comprehending what we have reason to be
lieve."3 IV.
" Faith is nothing more, in my opinion, than a certain prin
ciple from which the knowledge of the Creator takes its deri
vation in a reasonable nature."4 v.
" The soul in itself is unknown; but it begins to manifest
itself to itself and to others in its form, which is reason." 6
VI.
"lam not so fearful of authority, and I do not so dread the
rage of minds of small intelligence, as to hesitate to proclaim
aloud the things which reason clearly unfolds and with cer
tainty demonstrates; there are, moreover, subjects of which
we need only discourse with the learned, for whom nothing is
more sweet to hear than the truth, and nothing more delight
ful to investigate, or more beautiful to contemplate, when
found." 6
Assuredly, no philosopher has ever more clearly expressed
the rational character of his point of departure, which is that
of all philosophy. The last passage also clearly indicates
that the contest was then being waged between this principle
and that of authority, and that Scotus Erigena hesitated not
to engage in it. Devotion to truth and liberty is thus in a
few words indicated with striking power: —
1 De Divisione Natura, v. i. p. 39. 2 ibid, Vi jT p, §1,
3 De Divisione Natura, v. ii. p. 81. * Ibid. v. i. p. 41.
6 De Divisione Natura, v. ii. p. 74. t. ibid. v. i. p. 38.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 385
He goes further, and points out here and there in the
3L>urse of his work some of the principles of philosophical
method, with a precision so much the more remarkable that
he often violates it himself, and like the rest of the Neopla-
tonic school, does often the very reverse of proceeding from
the known to the unknown, and by the path of observation.
The following are a few of these passages: —
VII.
"The true course of reasoning may be from the natural
study of things sensible, to the pure contemplation of things
spiritual." l VIII.
" If we do not desire to study and to know ourselves, it is
because we do not desire to raise ourselves up to what is
above us, that is to our cause; for there is no other way of
attaining to the most pure contemplation of the sovereign
model than to well regard his image, which is nigh unto us."2
ix.
"Far from being of little importance, the knowledge of
things sensible is greatly useful to the understanding of things
intellectual. For, in the same manner as, by the senses, we
arrive at intelligence, so, by the creature, we return to
God."3 Are not the scientific spirit, and the method of observation
and induction, clearly opposed, in these places, to the theolo
gical spirit, to the method of authority and deduction?
Let us pass the vestibule of the philosophy: let us go into the
interior of the temple. There, the affinity of Scotus Erigena
with the Alexandrine Neoplatonism will not be less apparent.
He is likewise essentially a pantheist, and he hesitates not
to say so, with all that confusion, it is true, which is inherent
in this doctrine, and dooms it to incoherency and absurdity
in the very terms by which it attempts to declare itself, yet
he does so as openly and as consequently (if the word con
sequence may be here used) as his more illustrious predeces
sors. x.
" The cause of all things, which is God, is at the same
1 T)'. Divisione- Nufiira, v. v. p. 227. z Ibid. p. 2P8.
s De Divisione Natura, -,. iii. p. 149.
VOL, II. C C

386 HISTORY OF
time simple and multiple. The divine goodness (essence)
spreads itself, that is, multiplies itself in all things which
exist .... and lastly, by the same paths, disengaging itself
from the infinite variety of things which exist, again returns
and concentrates itself in the simple unity which comprehends
all things, which is in God and is God. Thus, all is God
and God is all.1 XI.
" In the same manner that, originally, the river flows
entire from its source; and as the water which first gushes
out from the spring, spreads itself constantly and without
ceasing in the bed of the river, whatever be the length of its
course, in the same manner the goodness, essence, wisdom,
divine life, and all which is in the source of all things, spreads
itself first in the first causes, and makes them to subsist;
then passes from the first causes into their effects, according
to an ineffable mode, and thus circulates by uninterrupted
degrees from things superior to things inferior, and finally
returns to its source by the most subtle and secret ways of
nature."2 XII.
" God, who alone truly exists, is the essence of all things, as
Dionysius the Areopagite says: 'The existence of all things
is what remains in them of divinity.' " 3
XIII.
"God is the beginning, the middle, and the end: the begin
ning, because all things come from him and participate in his
essence; the middle, because all things subsist in him and by
him; the end, because all things move towards him in order
to attain repose, the limit of their motion, and the stability of
his perfection." 4 xiv.
" All things which are said to be, are images of God ( Theo-
phania) .... all that we perceive and comprehend is but an
apparition of what we see not, a manifestation of what is
hidden .... opened a way towards the apprehension of that
which we have no comprehension of, a name of that which is
De Divis. Nat., v. iii. c. 4. 2 Ibid. v. i. c. 3.
» Ibid. t. 12. t ibid. v. iii. o. 4.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 387
ineffable, a step towards that which we cannot attain .... a
form of that which does not possess form, &C."1
xv.
" We can conceive nothing in the creature which is not tho
Creator, who alone truly is. Nothing out of himself can be
called really essential; for all things, coming from him, are
nothing more, inasmuch as they exist, than a certain partici
pation in the existence of him who alone comes from no other
and subsists of himself."2 xvi.
" We ought not to conceive the Lord and the creature as
two beings distinct one from the other, but as one and the
same being. For the creature subsists in God, and God, in a
marvellous and ineffable manner, creates himself, so to say, in
the creature in whom he manifests himself, and thus renders the
invisible visible, and the incomprehensible comprehensible."3
xvii.
" All that the human soul, by its intelligence and its rea
son, knows of God and the principles of things, under the
form of unity, it perceives under the multiple form, and by
the senses, in the effects of causes."4
Although I have not the complete work before me, it would
be an easy matter for me to continue these quotations; but I
have given enough, doubtless, to establish the Pantheism of
Scotus Erigena, and to show that he was really, with respect
to the ground of his ideas, as also indeed of his method, the
representative, in the ninth century, of that Alexandrian
philosophy, which was for a long time the intellectual adver
sary of Christianity, and which from the second century had
sought, if not to reconcile itself, at least to amalgamate itself
with the nascent theology.
Since the attempt had not succeeded from the second to the
fifth century, when Alexandrine Neoplatonism was still popu
lar and powerful, far more reason was there for its failing in
the ninth, when it had only for its organ and defender a wan
dering philosopher, favoured by a king without power. I
will not return to what I told you in the last lecture, about the
clamour which was raised against Scotus Erigena; it was as
general as it was violent, and greatly injured the cause of
1 Dedic. ad S. Maximi Schol. in Gregorium Nazianz,
s De Dwis. Nat., v. ii. u. 2. 3 Ibid. v. ii. p. 74. Ibid.
c c 2

388 HISTORY OF
Hincmar, who had chosen him for his defender. Scotus
Erigena had foreseen this, and was obliged to protect himself
by all the precautions in his power. We read at the head of
his treatise on predestination, dedicated to Hincmar: —
" Of this opuscule, then, which we have written at your
command, and in proof of your orthodox faith, adopt and
assign so much tothe catholic church as you shall judge true
— reject what appears to you false; and, simply human as we
are, pardon us for it. As regards what seems doubtful,
believe it, until authority teaches you that it must be re
jected, or taken for truth, and believed always."1
But the precaution was in vain: we cannot deceive or
lull to sleep intellectual adversaries. Not only did a crowd
of theologians write against the philosopher — not only was he
condemned by councils, but the rumours of his opinions soon
arrived at Rome, and pope Nicholas I. addressed to Charles
le Chauve — probably between 865 and 867 — a letter conceived
in these terms:
" It has been reported to our apostleship that a certain
John, of Scotch origin, has lately translated into Latin the
work which the blessed Dionysius wrote in the Greek
language, on divine names and celestial orders. This book
ought to have been sent us, according to custom, and ap
proved by our judgment; the more so, that this John, though
he is cried up as possessed of great knowledge, has not
always, it is everywhere said, been sound in his views
upon certain subjects. We recommend, therefore, very
strongly, that you cause the said John to appear before
our apostleship, or at least that you do not permit him any
longer to reside at Paris, in the school of which he is stated
for a long time to have been the chief, in order that he may
no longer mingle his tares with the wheat of the holy word,
giving poison to those who seek for bread." 2
There is much difference of opinion amongst scholars as
to the consequences which this formidable attack produced
with regard to Scotus Erigena. According to some, Charles
le Chauve, after having for a long time supported him, was at
last obliged to abandon him; and Erigena fled to England, whero
» De Div. Prad. Prof., Col. of Maug., v. i. p. 110.
* Collection of P. M-auguin, v. i. p. 105; Boulaz., Univ. Hist., Paris,
v. i p. 184.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 389
king Alfred then reigned, who gave him a favourable re
ception, and placed him at the head of the university ot
Oxford. This opinion is founded on a passage of Matthew
of Westminster, an English chronicler of the thirteenth
century. We there read, under the date 883 —
" This year came to England, Master John, of Scottish ori
gin, a man of a very penetrating mind, and of singular eio
quence. A long while before, having quitted his native country,
he went to Gaul, to the court of Charles le Chauve, and, being
received by him with great honour, became his boon compa
nion and bedfellow. . . At the request of this same king, he
translated from the Greek into Latin, the Hierarchy of Diony
sius, the. Areopagite, and gave to the world another book, which
he entitled irepl (piiaetog Meoiafioii, that is, Concerning the Di
vision of Nature, — ' very useful,' says he, ' for resolving
divers questions scarcely soluble;' we must excuse him on
certain occasions, whereupon he has strayed from the path
pursued by the Latins, for he had his eyes especially directed
towards the Greeks. He has accordingly by some been judged
heretical. A certain Florus has written against him : we are
ignorant who this man was, who condemned the writings of
John by perverting them. There are indeed many things in
this book which, if we do not examine them with care, ap
pear . contrary to the catholic faith. (He then speaks of
the letter of Pope Nicholas I.) . . . In consequence of this
reproach, this same John quitted France and came into
England, where, some years after, he was stabbed to death by
his own pupils with their styles, and died in great agony. For
some time he had only a humble grave in the church of
St. Laurence : but a ray of celestial light having fallen upon
that place, the monks, encouraged by such signs, transported
him to the cathedral, and honourably deposited him on the
left of the altar."1
A mass of objections are raised against this narrative of a
chronicler who lived more than three centuries after the oc
currence of the facts which he relates. He appears to have
confounded Scotus Erigena with another of the same name,
whom king Alfred in effect summoned from the continent
about the year 884, with the view of entrusting to him tho
1 Collection of Mauguin, v. i. u.l^S

390 HISTORY OF
direction of the university of Oxford. Such is the account of
Asser, a biographer contemporary with Alfred, who adds, that
in 895, John the Saxon, having become abbot of Ethe-
lingay, was slain by strokes of the style in a commotion of
monks, and that, being a very strong man, he defended him
self a long while. But, in 895, Scotus Erigena must have
been eighty years old; he could not, therefore, have been very
strong, nor have defended himself a long while against his as
sassins. Thus the details given by his contemporaries are
absolutely inapplicable to him, and the whole story of his re
turn to England becomes very doubtful. Most French scholars
contend that he remained in France, and even that he died
there before Charles le Chauve, that is, before 877; and. inde
pendently of the circumstances which I have just noticed,
their opinion seems confirmed by a letter of Anastasius, libra
rian of Rome, to king Charles, written about 876, wherein he
speaks to him of Scotus Erigena, as of a man deceased. Con
temporary testimony has, in my opinion, more authority than
that of Matthew of Westminster, and I am disposed to side
with this latter opinion.
However that was, the philosophical movement which
Er'gena had prolonged or re-animated declined with him.
His history is nearly the last glimmer which marks the
presence and activity of the Alexandrian Neoplatonism in
the bosom of Christianity. With him ended all the attempts
whether at warfare or at amalgamation between these two
great intellectual adversaries. Dating from this epoch,
Christian theology became more and more a stranger to
ancient philosophy, and the tenth century witnessed the birth
of i he theology of the middle age, the true ecclesiastical
theology, that which was to bring forth the creeds and the
Christian church, alone and free in their development.
Scotus Erigena, however, preserved to himself a great
reputation, and I meet with a fact, in the thirteenth century,
which loudly attests it. It appears that at this epoch, when
the great heresy of the Albigenses burst forth, his works,
particularly his treatise De Divisione Natural, and his transla
tion of Dionysius the Areopagite were known and much
esteemed in southern France; to such an extent was this the
ease that Pope Honorius III. ordered that a search should be
made for the manuscripts of them in all libraries, and that

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 394
they should be sent to Rome to be there burnt. No docu
ment, no narration attaches this fact to the history of Scotus
Erigena himself, and I am not in a condition to follow, from
the ninth to the thirteenth century, the traces of his writings
and of their influence; but the fact, though isolated, is the
no less certain and curious.
I have detained you a long time upon the life and writings
of a man much forgotten in the present day. But, in the
first place, it was but justice to restore to his proper rank
this strong and great intellect, which appeared as a pheno
menon in the middle of his age; on the other, I desired to
show you that this phenomenon had in it nothing strange,
and that, in the case of philosophy as of legislation, ancient
society, the Greco-Roman society, had not so completely
or so nastily perished as we have been accustomed to think.
I will here conclude my description of Frankish Gaul from
the eighth to the tenth century; and in our next lecture,
which will be the last — I shall endeavour to sum up all the
facts which I have placed before your notice, and to trace
rapidly that course of French civilization, under the twu
first races, which we have now been considering.

392 HISTORY 01?

THIRTIETH LECTURE.

General summary of the course — Extent and variety of subjects —
The history of ch ilization, its price — It is the result of all partial
histories — Unity and variety of the existence of apeople — Three essential
elements in French civilization, Greco-Roman antiquity, Christianity,
Germany — 1. Of the Roman element, from the 5th to the 10th century
¦ — Under a social point of view — Under an intellectual point of view—
2. Of the Christian element, from the 5th to the 10th century — Under
a social point of view — Under an intellectual point of view — 3. Of the
Germanic element, from the 5th to the 10th century — Under a social
point of view — Under an intellectual point of view — Two principal facts
characterize this epoch : 1. The prolongation, more or less apparent, but
everywhere real, of Roman society and its influence — 2. The disorderly
and indeterminate fermentation of the different elements of modern
civiliz ation — C onclusion.
We are come to the termination of this course. I would
now take a review of the whole, noticing the chief and pre
dominant facts, which appear to me to result from it, and
which characterize, during that long period, the history of
our civilization.
I gave at the commencement a description of Gaul prior
to the German invasion, at the end of the fourth and the
beginning of the 5th century, under the Roman administra
tion. We considered its social and intellectual state in civil
and in religious society.1
After I had thus made you acquainted with Roman-Gaul,
1 took you across the Rhine. I directed your view towards
Germany, prior to the invasion also, and in the infancy of
its institutions and manners.2
1 Leet. 2—6. * Leet. 7.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 393
The Germans having invaded Gaul, we examined what
were the consequences, whether immediate or probable, of
this first contact of Roman with barbarous society. I drew
your attention to their abrupt and violent collision.1
From the sixth century to the middle of the eighth, we
followed the progressive amalgamation of the two societies.
In the civil order, we saw barbarous laws arise, and the
Roman law perpetuated. I laboured to explain the character,
generally misunderstood, in my opinion, of these first rudi
ments of modern legislation.2 We passed from thence to
religious society; and considering it in its double element,
priests and monks, the secular and regular clergy, we gave an
account both of its relations with civil society, and of * its
own internal organization.3
Such has been our progress, from the sixth to the eighth
century, in the history of the social state; but we had also to
consider the intellectual state of Frankish-Gaul at the same
period; we searched both in sacred and profane literature,
and we endeavoured to ascertain their distinctive character
and reciprocal influence.4
We thus arrived at the great crisis which signalized the
middle of the eighth century, the fall of the Merovingian
kings and the accession of the Carlovingians; I attempted to
characterise this revolution, and to assign its real causes.5
The Carlovingian revolution being comprehended, the
reign of Charlemagne specially occupied us; I considered it
in its events, properly so called, in its laws, in its action on
mind. I desired particularly to distinguish that which he
attempted, and that which he effectually accomplished,
that which perished with him, and that which survived
him.6 After the death of Charlemagne, the rapid dissolution of
his vast empire struck our attention; we endeavoured to take
an account of it, and to make known to ourselves the progress
as well as the causes of that phenomenon; we pursued it, on
the one hand, in its events, on the other, in its laws; we inquired
into the political and the legislative revolution, which, from
the death of Charlemagne to the accession of Hugh Capet,
led to the feudal system.7
i Leet. 8. 2 Leet. 0— 11. « Leet. 12— 15. 4 Leet. 18, 18.
» Leet. 19. « Leet. 20—23 ' Leet. 21—25.

394 /IISTORY OF
To this history of civil society, from the middle of the
eighth to the end of the tenth century, succeeded the history
of religious society at the same period, that is to say, the
history of the Gallo-Frankish church, considered firstly in
itself, that is, in its national existence; secondly, externally,
in its relations with the government of the universal church,
that is, the popedom.
Lastly, always remaining true to the essential idea of civi
lization, and always mindful to consider it under its double
aspect, with respect to society and the human soul, the intel
lectual state of Frankish-Gaul, from the eighth to the tenth
century, was our concluding study. We saw ancient philoso
phy expire, and ecclesiastical theology arise: and we deter
mined with some precision the profane and the sacred elements
which have contributed to the modern development of the
human mind.1
Such is the vast career, the steps of which we have fol
lowed; such is the immense variety of objects which have
passed under your view. Certainly, I have not arbitrarily or
from mere fancy led you into this vast expanse, causing you
continually to be changing the point of view of subject.
The very nature of our study rigidly exacted it: the history
of civilization can only be given at this expense.
This history is a new work, scarcely more than sketched.
The idea of it has been first conceived in the eighteenth cen
tury, and it is in our own times, under our own eyes, that
we see its true fulfilment begin. It is not, however, only in
the present day that history is made a study of; not only
facts, but their connexion and their causes, have been studied;
philosophers and scholars have equally laboured in this field.
But up to the present times, we may say, the study of his
tory, both philosophical and scholastic, has been partial and
limited; political, legislative, religious, and literary histories
have been written; learned researches have been made, bril
liant reflections have been presented on the destination and
development of laws, manners, sciences, letters, arts, of all
the works of human activity; but they have never been
regarded together, at one view, in their intimate ?.nd fertile
1 Leet. 28, 29.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 395
union. And wherever there has been an attempt to grasp at
general results, or a desire to form a complete idea of the
development of human nature, it is altogether on a partial
foundation that the edifice has been raised. The Discours
sur V Histoire Universelle, and the Esprit des Lois, are glorious
essays on the history of civilization; but who cannot see that
Bossuet lias almost exclusively confined his search to religious
creeds, and Montesquieu to political institutions? These two
geniuses have thus narrowed the horizon of their view. What
are we to say concerning minds of an inferior order? It is
evident that, scholastic or philosophical, history up to the pre
sent day has never really been general; it has never at one time
followed man in all the careers wherein his activity exhibits
itself. And yet the history of civilization is possible only under
this condition; it is a summary of all histories; it requires them
all for materials, for the fact which it relates is the summary
of all other facts. An immense variety, without doubt; yet do
not think that unity is destroyed thereby. There is unity in
the life of a people, in the life of the human race, just as
there is in that of an individual; but, as in fact all the cir
cumstances of destiny and activity in an individual contribute
to form his character, which is one and the same, so the unity
and history of a people must have for its basis all the variety
of its entire existence.
It is, then, wholly of necessity, and driven by the very
nature of our subject, that we have gone over the political,
ecclesiastical, legislative, philosophical, and literary history
of Frankish Gaul, from the fifth to the tenth century: if we
have arrived at any precise and positive results, we owe them
to this method. You may have observed, especially, how
much we have been enlightened by placing civil and religious
society continually in juxta-position, both of which are incom
prehensible if we leave them separate. Let us now endeavour
to understand clearly these results, which we have obtained, I
think, with some certainty; let us endeavour to determinl
the point of departure of Gaulish civilization in the fifth
century, and the point at which it had arrived at the end of
the tenth.
You are aware that the essential, fundamental elements of
modern civilization in general, and of French civilization in
particular, reduce themselves to three: the Roman world,

S96 HISTORY OF
the Christian world, and the Germanic world; antiquity,
Christianity, and barbarism. Let us see what transformation
these three, elements underwent between the fifth and tenth
centuries, what they became in this last period, and what
remained of them in the civilization of that period.
I. I commence with the Roman element. I wish to cast a
slight glance at what the Roman world has furnished to
France, under a social and an intellectual point of view; and
we must discover what remained of it in the tenth century,
in society and in mind.
Under the first point of view — that is to say, the influence
of Roman on Gallo-Frankish society, from the fifth to the
tenth century, the result of our inquiries is, that the Roman
world, when it broke up, bequeathed to the future the wrecks
of three great facts — 1st, central sole power, empire, and
absolute royalty; 2nd, imperial administration, government
of provinces by the delegates of the central power; 3rd, the
municipal system, the primitive mode of existence of Rome
and most of the countries which had successively formed the
Roman empire.
What are the changes which these three facts underwent
between the fifth and tenth centuries?
1. With respect to the central power, sole and sovereign,
it perished, as you know, in the invasion; in vain some of the
first barbarous kings tried to restore it, and to exercise it to
their advantage; they were baffled in the attempt; imperial
despotism was too complex an instrument for their rude
hands. At the fall of the Merovingians, Charlemagne
attempted to revive it, and to use it ; the attempt had a
momentary success ; central power re-appeared : but, after
Charlemagne, as after the first invasion, it broke asunder, and
was lost in the chaos. Nothing, surely, less resembled impe
rial power than the royalty of Hugh Capet. Some remem
brance of it, nevertheless, lay in the minds of men: Empire had
left behind it profound traces. The names of emperor, imperial
authority, sovereign majesty, had still a certain virtue, and
recalled a certain type of government; these were now only
words, yet words still powerful, and sufficient to produce deeds
if the occasion offered. Such was the state in which, at about
the end of the tenth century, this first legacy of the Romaa
world manifested itself.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 397
2. The imperial administration underwent very nearly the
same vicissitudes; the barbarous chiefs tried to use it, but
with no better success. This mode of governing the several
parts of a state was too complicated, too exact; it required
the concurrence of too many agents, and intelligence of too
developed a kind; the administrative machine of the empire
was speedily deranged, if I may so speak, in the hands of its
new masters. Charlemagne attempted to give it regularity
and motion ; it was a necessary consequence of the restoration
of central power; and, by an analogous consequence, together
with the central power of Charlemagne, perished also the
provincial administration, which he had, as well as he
could, reconstructed. After the complete dissolution of the
new empire, however, when the feudal system had pre
vailed, and when the holders of fiefs had succeeded the
ancient delegates of the sovereign, there remained, in the
thoughts of the people and of the possessors of fiefs them
selves, some recollection of their origin. That origin, I
have been careful to point out to you, was of a double kind;
the fiefs originated on the one hand in benefices, or lands
conceded, whether by the sovereign or by other chiefs; on
the other hand, in offices or appointments of dukes, counts,
viscounts, centeniers, he, that is, of officers, invested by the
sovereign with local administration. This second origin
was not, therefore, absolutely effaced from memory: it was
vaguely remembered that these lords — now sovereigns, or
nearly so — had formerly been delegates of a greater sovereign:
that they had been the representatives of a general and
superior power; and that instead of being then proprietors of
the sovereignty on their own account, they were only magis
trates or administrators in the name of another, and that the
portion of that sovereignty which they possessed might have
been usurped from this sole and remote monarch, who was
now lost sight of. This idea, which pervades the course of our
history, and which has been the favourite theory of juriscon
sults, and other writers upon public laws, is clearly a wreck
of the ancient Roman administration — an echo which had
survived the ruin of that vast and learned hierarchy. Such
is all that we discern of it towards the end of the tenth cen
tury; but a potent germ of life lay buried under this remem
brance.

398 HISTORY OF
/ 3. The third fact bequeathed by the Roman to the modern
world is the municipal system. You know what the state of
towns was, at the end of the tenth century, into what depopu
lation, decay, and distress they had fallen. Nevertheless, so
much as still remained of internal administration, especially
in southern Gaul, was Roman in its origin; here was still
some shadow of the curia, of consuls, duumvirs, and other
ancient municipal magistrates. The Roman law presided
over the acts of civil life, donations, contracts, &c. Municipal
magistrates, deprived of their political importance, were be
come in a manner simple notaries who registered civil acts,
and preserved records of them. A new municipal system,
of a different principle and character, the system of the
commons of the middle age, was about to raise itself upon
the ruins of the Roman municipality; but as yet it had
scarcely begun to dawn; and, in general, all that we can
discern as existing in the tenth century, of distinct ad
ministration in towns, is Roman. Let us now see what
remained of Greco-Roman antiquity under an intellectual
point of view, what the mind of the tenth century still re
tained of it. I cannot here enter into detail; I do not mean
to search, in the theological tenets and popular opinions of
that time, for those which were allied to Roman philosophy
and opinions; I merely wish to characterize, in its most
general features, the intellectual heritage which ancient
society has bequeathed to us, and the condition of it at the
end of the tenth century. An important fact, and far too
little noticed, in my opinion, first strikes me; it is that the
principle of liberty of thought, the principle of all philosophy,
reason being its own point of departure and guide, is an
idea essentially the daughter of antiquity, an idea which
modern society holds from Greece and Rome. We have
received it evidently neither from Christianity nor from Ger-
, many; for it was included in neither of those elements of our
civilization. It strongly prevailed on the contrary in Greco-
: Roman civilization : there is its true origin ; there the most
i valuable legacy which antiquity has left to the modern world:
the legacy which has never been absolutely set aside and
without value; for you have seen the idea which is the mother
of philosophy, namely, the right of reason to act from itself,
animating the works and life of Scotus Erigena, and the

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 399
principle of liberty of thought still prevailing in the ninth
century, in face of the principle of authority. A second
intellectual legacy of Roman civilization to ours, is the body
of beautiful works of antiquity. In spite of the general
ignorance, in spite of the corruption of language, ancient
literature ha"s always been presented to the mind as a worthy
object of study, of imitation, and of admiration, and as the
type of the beautiful. The influence of this idea was very
great, you are aware, from the fourteenth to the sixteenth
century; it has never been lost completely, and in the eighth,
ninth, and tenth centuries, we have encountered it at every
step. The philosophical and the classical spirit, the principle of
liberty of thought and the model of the beautiful, are the
gifts which the Roman has transmitted to the modern world,
and which still survived to it in the intellectual order at the
end of the tenth century.
II. I pass to the Christian element; I desire to ascertain
what was its condition at this epoch, and what effects it had
produced. You have followed the changes of Christian society from
the fifth to the tenth century; in its birth you have seen the
origin and model of all the modes of organization, of all the
systems which subsequently appeared; therein you have re
cognised the democratical, aristocratical, and monarchical prin
ciples; you have seen the lay community one while associated
with the ecclesiastical community, and at another, excluded
from all participation in power: all the combinations, in short,
of religious social organization offered themselves to your view.
During the period which we have considered, the aristocratic
system prevailed ; episcopacy became soon the ruling and
almost the sole power. At the end of the tenth century, the
popedom raised itself above episcopacy, the monarchical over
came the aristocratic principle. Under a social point of view,
therefore, the state of the church at that time reduced itself to
two facts: — the preponderance of the church in the state, and
the preponderance of papacy in the church. Such are the
results which at this epoch we may regard as established.
Under an intellectual point of view, it is more difficult,
and still more important, to render to ourselves an account
of what the Christian element had at that time furnished to

400 HISTORY OF
modern civilization. Let me here ascend a step higher, and
compare for a moment what has passed in antiquity with that
which passed in Christian society.
Spiritual and temporal order, human thought and human
• society, developed themselves amongst the ancients parallel
rather than together, not without an intimate correspondence,
but without exercising a prompt and direct influence one
upon the other. I will explain myself: without speaking of
the earlier times of philosophy, but taking it at the epoch of
its highest glory, Plato, Aristotle, and most of the philosophers,
whether of Grecian, or more latterly of Greco-Roman an
tiquity, had full liberty of thought, or nearly so. The State,
public policy interfered but little with their labours to cramp
them and give them a particular tendency. They, on their
part, concerned themselves little about politics, nor cared
much to influence immediately and decisively the society in
which they lived: undoubtedly they exerted that indirect and
remote influence which belongs to all great human thought
cast into the midst of mankind; but the ancient philosophers
made few pretensions to the action or direct influence of
thought over exterior facts, of pure knowledge over society;
they were not essentially reformers; they aspired to govern
neither the private conduct of individuals, nor society in
general. The ruling character, in one word, of intellectual
development in antiquity, is liberty of thought and its prac
tical disinterestedness; it is a development essentially rational
and scientific. Upon the triumph of Christianity in the Roman
world, the character of intellectual development changed: that
which was philosophy became religion; philosophy was en
feebled more and more; religion usurped the understanding;
the form of thought was essentially religious. It aspired from
that time to much more power over human affairs; the
end of thought, in religion, is essentially practical; it aspires
to govern individuals, frequently even society. The spiritual
order, it is true, continued to be separate from the temporal
order; the government of nations was not directly and com
pletely committed to the clergy; its lay society and ecclesiastic
society developed themselves independently. Nevertheless,
the spiritual penetrated much further into the temporal order
than it had done in ancient times; and whereas liberty of
thought, and its purely scientific activity, had been, in Greece

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. ' 401
and Rome, the ruling character of the intellectual develop
ment ; its practical activity and pretension to power, was
the distinguishing trait of intellectual development amongst
Christian nations.
From this there resulted another change, which was not of
less importance. In proportion as human thought, under the
rehgious form, aspired to more power over the conduct of
mankind, and the fate of states, it lost its liberty. Instead of
remaining open and free to competition, as amongst the
ancients, intellectual society was organized and governed; in
stead of philosophical schools, there was a church. It was at
the cost of its independence that thought purchased empire; it
no longer developed itself in all directions, and according to
its simple impulse; but it acted forcibly and immediately on
mankind and on societies.
This fact is important; it has exercised a decisive influence
on the history of modern Europe, so decisive, as still to subsist
and to manifest itself around us in our own days. The reli
gious form has ceased to hold exclusive dominion in human
thought; scientific and rational development has recommenced;
and yet what is come to pass? Have philosophers thought,
have they wished to treat pure knowledge in the same manner
as those of antiquity have done? No: human reason aspires
in the present day to govern and reform societies after its
own conceptions, to rule the exterior world according to gene
ral principles; that is to say, the thought, again become philo
sophical, has preserved the pretensions it held under the reli
gious form; with this immense difference, it is true, that it
would unite the liberty of thought with its power, and that
even whilst it tries to take possession of societies, to govern
them, and place the power in the hands of intelligence, it
does not wish intelligence to be organized nor subjected 10
forms and a legal yoke. It is in the alliance of intellectual
liberty, as it shone in antiquity, with the intellectual power,
as it showed itself in Christian societies, that we find the great
and original character of modern civilization; and it is without
doubt, in the bosom of the revolution effected by Christianity
in the relations of the spiritual and temporal orders of thought
and of the exterior world, that this new revolution has taken
its origin and its first point of support.
At the epoch to which we are now come, at the end of the
VOL. II. d d

402 HISTORY Oi
tenth century, the double fact which characterizes the first re
volution, I mean the abdication of the liberty of the human
intellect, and the increase of its social power, was already con
summated. From the tenth century, you observe spiritual
society pretending to the government of temporal society, that
is, announcing that thought has a right to govern the world;
and, at the same time, you observe thought subjected to the
rules, the yoke of the church, and organized according to certain
laws. These are the two most considerable results of the vi
cissitudes which intellectual order has suffered from the fifth
to the tenth century, the two principal facts which the Chris
tian element has thrown into modern civilization.
III. We come to the third primitive element of this civiliza
tion, the Germanic world or barbarism. Let us see what mo
dern society had already received from it in the tenth cen
tury. When we considered the condition of the Germans prior to
the invasion, two facts especially, two forms of social organ
ization, struck us :
1. The tribe formed of all the proprietary chiefs of family,
governing itself by an assembly, where justice was rendered,
and where public business was transacted — in one word, by
the common deliberation of free men; a system very incom
plete and precarious,. without doubt, in such a state of social
relations and manners, but of which, however, glimpses may
be caught of the principal rudiments.
2. Side by side with the tribe, we have met with the war
like band, a society where the individual lived in so free a
manner, that he could adopt it or reject it, according to his
taste, and where the social principle was not equality of
free men, and common deliberation, but the patronage of a
chief towards his companions, who served him, and lived at
his expense, that is to say, aristocratic and military subordi
nation; words which ill answer to the idea which must be
formed of a band of barbarians, but which describes the system
of social organization which was about to issue from it.
Such are the two principles, or rather the two germs of
principles, which Germany has furnished in the earliest times,
to modern society in its nascent state. The principle of com
mon deliberation of free men no more existed in the Roman
world, unless in the bosoms of the municipal system ; it was

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 403
the Germans who restored it to the political order. The
principle of aristocratic patronage, combined with a large
portion of liberty, was become equally foreign to Roman
society. Both the one and the other of these elements of our
social organization are of German origin.
From the fifth to the tenth century they underwent great
changes. At the end of this period, the assemblies, or govern
ment, by the voice of common deliberation, had disappeared ;
in fact, there remained scarcely any trace of the ancient mats,
fields of Mars and May, or Germanic Courts. The remem
brance, however, of national assemblies, the right of free men
to join together, to deliberate and transact their business
together, resided in the minds of men as a primitive tradition
and a thing which might again come about. It was with the
ancient German assemblies as with imperial sovereignty:
neither the one nor the other any longer existed; government
by the voice of free deliberation and absolute power had equally
fallen, yet without absolutely perishing. They were germs
buried under immense heaps of ruins, but which yet might
one day reappear and be fruitful. Such was, in fact, what
really happened.
With respect to the patronage of the chief towards his
companions, the acquisition of large domains and the territo
rial life had much changed 'this relation of the ancient Ger
mans. We can no more find, in any degree worth mentioning,
the same liberty which used to reign in the wandering band.
Some had received benefices, and were settled in them;
others had continued to live around their chief in his house
and at his table. The chief was become eminently powerful ;
there was introduced into this little society much more in
equality and fixedness. Nevertheless, although the aristo
cratic principle and the inequality which accompanies it, and
which constitutes even it, had assumed a great development,
they had not destroyed all the ancient relation between the
chief and his companions. The inequality did not draw
servility after it; and the society which resulted therefrom,
and with which we will occupy ourselves more in detail here
after, the feudal society reposed, for those at least who com
posed part of it, that is, the proprietors of fiefs, upon the
principles of right and liberty.
In the tenth century, and under the social point of view, the
dd2

404 HISTORY OF
Germanic element then had furnished to modern civilization
i\\ its nascent state, on the one hand, the remembrance of
national assemblies, and of the right of free men to govern
themselves in common; on the other hand, certain ideas,
certain sentiments of right and liberty implanted in the bosom
of an entirely aristocratic organization.
Under the moral point of view, although eminent writers
have strongly insisted upon what modern Europe holds from
the Germans, their assertions seem to me vague and too
general; they make no distinction of epoch or country; and I
think that, in western Europe, especially in France, the ener
getic sentiment of individual independence is the most impor
tant, I would willingly say the only great moral legacy which
ancient Germany has transmitted to us.
There was, in the tenth century, a national German
literature, consisting of songs and popular traditions, which
hold a high place in the literary history of Germany, and
which have exerted a great influence on its manners. But the
part played by these traditions, and by all primitive German
literature, in the intellectual development of France, has been
very limited and fugitive; this is the reason why I have not
entered upon it with you, though this, literature is positively
full of originality and interest.
Such was the state of the three great elements of modern
civilization in the tenth century; such are the changes, social
and moral, which Roman antiquity, Christianity, and bar
barism have experienced on our soil.
From thence flow, if I mistake not, two general facts, two
great results, which it is necessary to exhibit.
The work of M. de Savigny on the History of Roman Law,
after the fall of the Empire, has changed the face of the
science; he has proved that the Roman law had not perished;
that, notwithstanding great modifications, without doubt, it
was transmitted from the fifth to the fifteenth century, and
had always continued to form a considerable part of the legis
lation of the west.
If I am not mistaken, the facts which I have laid before
your view, in this course, have generalized this result. It
follows, I think, evidently, that not only in municipal in
stitutions and civil laws, as M. de Savigny has proved,
but in political order and philosophy, in literature and all

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 405
departments, in a word, of social and intellectual life, Roman
civilization was transmitted far beyond the date of the Empire;
that we may everywhere discern a trace of it; that no abyss
separates the Roman from the modern world; that the thread
is nowhere broken; that we may recognise everywhere the
transition of Roman society into our own; in a word, that the
part played by ancients in modern civilization is greater and
more continuous than is commonly thought. A second result
equally arises out of our labours, and characterizes the period
which is the object of them. During all this period, from the
fifth to the tenth century, we have nowhere been able to
pause; we have been unable to find, either in social or intel
lectual order, any system, any fact, which became fixed, which
took a firm, general, and regular hold on society or mind.
The general fact with which we have" been struck is a con
tinual and universal fluctuation, a constant state of uncer
tainty and of transformation. It was, then, from the fifth to
the tenth century, that the work of fermentation and amalga
mation of the three elements of modern civilization, namely,
the Roman element, the Christian element, and the German
element, was in operation; and it was only at the end of the
tenth century that the ferment ceased, and the amalgamation
became nearly accomplished, and that the development of
the new order and truly modern society commenced.
The history which we have just concluded, then, is the his
tory of its very conception and creation. All things rise out
of the chaos, modern society among the rest. That which we
have studied now is the chaos, the cradle of France: what
we shall have to study hereafter is France itself. Dating
only from the end of the tenth century, the social being which
bears that name, if I may thus speak, has been formed and
exists; we might attend it in its proper and exterior develop
ment. This development will merit, for the first time, the
name of French civilization. Until now, we have spoken of
Gaulish-Roman, Frankish, Gallo-Roman, and Gallo-Frankish
civilization; we have been obliged to combine foreign names
in order to characterize, with any justice, a society without
unity and certainty. When we again enter upon our labours,
it will be to speak of French civilization; we shall date there
from; the question will no longer be concerning Gauls,
Franks, and Romans, but of Frenchmen, of ourselves.

406 HISTORY OF

ILLUSTRATIONS AND HISTORICAL TABLES.

On authorising the publication of these lectures, I promised to add to them
a number of tables and documents intended to prove or to explain the ideas
which I might have occasion to express. I have inserted some of these tables
in the lectures themselves. There are some others for which I could not
find a place there, and which seem to me no less necessary. I give them
bere. It would have been both easy and useful to multiply illustrations of this
kind ; but I have been obliged to limit myself. The object of those which
I have selected is both to show in their development facts which I have
been merely able to point out, and to place before the reader those events,
the knowledge of which I took for granted. They are seven in number : —
I. Table of the organization of the court, and of the central govern
ment of the Roman empire at the commencement of the fifth cen
tury — that is to say, at the epoch which I took as the starting point
of the course.
II. Table of the hierarchy of ranks and titles in Roman society at the
same epoch.
III. Narrative of the embassy sent in 449 by Theodosius the Younger,
emperor of the' west, to Attila, established on the banks of the
•Danube.
IV. Chronological table of the principal events of the political liistory
of Gaul, from the fifth to the tenth century.
V. Chronological table of the principal events of the ecclesiastical his
tory of Gaul, from the fifth to the tenth century.
VI. Chronological table of the principal events of the literary liistory
of Gaul, from the fifth to the tenth century.
VII. Table of the counoils and canonical legislation of Gaul, from the
• fifth to the tenth century.
Unless I am much deceived, there is no occasion for me to insist upon
Ibe utility of these documents— r-it will speak for itself; and for persons
who weigh and study them attentively, the history of our civilization, so
obscure and so vague in its cradle, will appear, I thiuk, under moie clear
and precise forms. This is my aim and hope in publishing them.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 407

Table of the Organization of the Court and of the Central
Government of the Roman Empire, at the commencement
of the Fifth Century.
It was under the reigns of Diocletian and of Constantine that the court
aud the central government of the Roman emperors gained that systematic
and definitive organization, -whose image the notitia imperii Romani has
preserved to us. It was the same both iu the empire of the east and
in that of the west, with the exception of some unimportant differences
occasioned by that of localities. For. the basis of this table 1 have adopted
the empire of the east, the most complete and the best known of the two,
taking care to point out here and there facts which distinguish the empire
of the west. IMPERIAL COURT.
I. — Propositus sacri cubiculi, (grand chamberlain.)
He had nnder his orders a large number of officers, divided into six
nlasses, schola, and all named palatini ; their duty in the palace was called
in palatio militare. The principal were : —
1. — Primicerius sacri cubiculi (first chamberlain.) — He was at the head
¦of all those who served the emperor in his apartments, and accompanied
him everywhere for this purpose ; they were named cubicularii (cham
berlains or valets de chambre); they were divided into parties of ten men,
at the head of each of which was a decanus.
2. — Comes castrensis (count of the palace.) — The chief of those who
served the emperor at table, and took care of the interior of the palace this
was a kind of steward, or maitre-d'hotel. He had under his orders': —
(1.) Primicerius mensorum, the chief of those who, when the em
peror travelled, went before to get everything prepared upon his road,
and in the places where he was to stop.
(2.) Primicerius cellariorum, chief of all those employed in the
kitchens and offices.
(3.) Primicerius padagogiorum, the chief of the young pages,
brought up for service in the interior of the palace.
(4.) Primicerius lampadariorum, the chief of those who overlooked
the lighting of the palace. There was in this class a number of sub
divisions and subaltern officers.
3. — Comes sacra vestis (count of the sacred wardrobe.) — He was charged
with the imperial wardrobe, and commanded many officers.
4. — Chartularii cubiculi (secretaries of the chamber.) — They were gene
rally three in number, and were the private secretaries of the emperor ; and
although occupied with public affairs, they were under the direction of the
propositus sacri cubiculi, because their service was personal.
5 — Decurionus III. silentiariorum. — The silentiarii were charged with
preventing all noise in the palace : . the thirty principal were subdivided into
tliree parties of ten, each commanded by a decurion.

408 HISTORY OF
6.— Comes domorum per Cappadociam. — This was the steward of the
property which the emperor of the east possessed in Cappadocia : these
patrimonial estates were very considerable ; the comes domorum directed
their administration and collected the revenues : he held office as a magis
trate. II. — Comites domesticorum equitum peditumque (counts of the
cavalry and infantry of the palace.)
These were the two commanders of the select bands of cavalry and
infantry who guarded the person of the emperor. These bands, who
were called protedores domestici, were drawn from the seven schools of
Armenian soldiers, called palatini, and destined for the military service of
the palace. The seven schools formed a body of 3500 men, from among
whom were taken the protedores domestici, who enjoyed great privileges.
The counts of the domestic infantry and cavalry also had under their orders
deputati, charged with executing their commands in the .provinces.
The empress also had her court, organised in nearly the same manner as
that of the emperor. CENTRAL GOVERNMENT.
I. — Magister officiorum (master of the offices.)
This was a sor,t of universal minister, whose functions were very exten.
sive; he administered justice to almost all the officers of the palace (pala
tini), received the appeals of private citizens, presented senators to the
princes, &c. His jurisdiction also extended over the officers belonging to
other departments, such as the mensores, the lampadarii, und those who were
in the department of the prapositus sacri cubiculi. He had under his juris
diction : —
1. — The seven schools of the milites palatini. (1.) Schola scutariorum
prima; (2.) Schola scutariorum secunda ; (3) Gentilium seniorum ; (4.)
Scutariorum sagittairorum ; (5.) Armaturarum juniorum; (7.) Gentilium
jimioi-um. 2. — The school -of the agentes in rebus : these were the messengers and
spies of the princes in the provinces : before Constantine they were called
frumentarii. 3. — The mensores and the lampadarii, of whom we have already spoken ;
also, the admissionales, or the gentlemen ushers of the palace, and the invi
talores, who were charged with transmitting invitations.
4. — Four scrinia or officers, where the affairs of the prince with his sub -
jects were immediately managed.
(1.) Scrinium memoria. Here were kept registers of employments
and grades ; hence, for the most part, issued the nominations.
(2.) Scrinium epistolarum : here were received the deputations and
requests from cities, and hence were dispatched the answers of the
prince. (3.) Scrinium libellorum : hither were addressed the requests and
appeals of subjects.
(4.) Scrinium dispositionum : the functions of this last office resem
bled those of the two preceding ones ; it is omitted in the notitia, but
the laws make mention of it.
Each of these offices had its own chief, magister scrinii memoria,

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 409
tpistolarum, &c. ; the last was called comes dispositionum ; there were
numerous officers in it.
S. — The armourers of the empire. The master of the offices of the
east had fifteen under his direction : Damascus, Antioch, 2 ; Edessa,
Iienopolis, Caesarea in Cappadocia, Nicomedia, 2 ; Sai-dis, Adrianople, 2 ;
Thessalonica, Naissus, Ratiaria, Margus. The master of the offices of the
wesf had nineteen: Sirmium, Acincum, Cornutum, Lauriacum, Salona,
Concordia, Verona, Mantua, Cremona, Pavia, Lucca, Strasburg, Macon,
Autun, Besancon, Reims, Treves, 2 ; Amiens.
II — Quastor (the questor.)
He judged, in concert with the pretorian prefect, and sometimes alone,
affairs referred to the prince ; he composed the laws and edicts which the
prince was to publish ; he signed the rescripts ; he had the superintendence
of the register (laterculum minus), in which were enumerated the tribunes
and the prefects of the camps and frontiers. He was a kind of high chan
cellor. He sent his edicts to the scrinium dispositionum, where they were
kept, and copies distributed throughout the empire. He had no officers at
tached to bis post, but he had twelve secretaries in the scrinium memoria,
seven in the scrinium epistolarum, and seven in the scrinium libellorum.
III. Comes sacrarum largitionum, (count of the sacred largesses.) ,
This was the high treasurer of the empire ; he collected and administered
all the public revenues ; all the payments issued from his office ; Constan
tine put him in the place of the questors, the priefedi ararii, &c.
His administration was divided into two offices, scrinia, at the head of
which was & primicerius, or magister scrinii, (chief of the office.)
1. Scrinium canonum. — This, it seems, was the office in which was
prepared the account of what each province, each town, &c, was to send to
the public chest, area largitionum. These two offices kept an account of the
moneys received and expended by the
treasury.
4. Scrinium aurete massa. — This office was occupied in keeping accounts
of the .bullion which was sent to the treasury, and of the use made of it in
coining money, in the decoration of public monuments, in crown jewels, &c.
5. Scrinium auri ad responsum. — They here regulated and furnished the
sums of money, whether intended to supply the expenses of the officers
whom the prince sent into the provinces, of the armies, &c, or whether to
be sent into the different parts of the empire, or for tribute paid to allies,
barbarians, &c.
6. Scrinium ab argento. — This was the office where were deposited silver
in ingots, the imperial plate, vases, &c
7. Scrinium vestiarii sacri. — This was the office from whence issued the
funds for the clothing of troops, the monarch, the imperial family, the
people of his court, to whom he furnished clothing.
8. Scrinium annularense vel miliarense. — According to the first reading,
this office would be intended to preserve the rings and jewels of the emperor ;
according to the second, which seems to me the most probable, its intentioa
was to strike and distribute the small silver money, called miliarensium,
of which the value was the tenth part of an aureus.

2. ScHnium tabulariorum,
3. Scrinium numerariorum,

410 HISTORY .OF
9. Scrinium a pecuniis.—T?imdro\lus thinks that it was this office which
directed the coining of money throughout the empire.
10. Scrinium exceplorum. — The clerks of this office wrote out the
account of the cases which had been judged by the count of the sacred
largesses. The attributes of these various offices were very uncertain ; their names
are obscure, and we can only conjecture their object. It seems that they
afterwards added an eleventh office, called scrinium mittendariorum, and
composed of officers who were sent into the provinces to get the payment
of taxes hastened and completed.
Besides these offices attached to his service, the count of the largesses
had a great number of subordinates in the provinces, charged with directing
the affairs of his department. The principal were:
1. Six comites largitionum, in the east, in Egypt, in Asia Minor, in
Pontus, in Thrace, and in Illyria ; there were five of these in the west. They
¦were charged with paying the salaries of the generals, soldiers, and other
officers, and to overlook the collection of taxes.
2. Pour comites commerciorum, charged with buying the stuffs and
jewels necessary for the imperial honsehold, with overlooking the operations
of the merchants, and watching that the duties levied upon the commodities
should be correctly paid. There was but one in the west.
3. Prafecti thesaurorum ; they received and kept, in each province, the
money proceeding from taxes, until it was sent to the count of the sacred
largesses. 4. Comes metallorum, charged with deducting, from the produce of the
mines of gold, silver, or other metals, the portion which went to the prince.
5. Comes vel rationales summarum JEgypti, charged with collecting the
property which fell to the prince in that province, whether by escheat, or
auy other cause; he also superintended the great commerce in Indian mer
chandise, which passed through Egypt ; there were eleven rationales of this
kind in the west.
6. Magistri linea vel tintea vestis ; they directed all the labourers who
worked in flax for the wardrobe, or furniture of the emperor. Their office
was filled in the west by a comes vestiarii.
7. Privata magistri ; they directed the workmen in silk, linen, &c, for,
the royal household.
8. Procuratores gynaciorum ; charged with the superintending of spun
and wove fabrics.
9. Procuratores baphiorum; inspectors of the dying of stuffs in purple,
&c. There were nine in the west.
10. Procuratores monetarum ; mint inspectors. There were six of them
in the west.
11. Propositi bartagarum, charged with superintending the transport of
goods intended for the public service, or that of the emperor, corn, commo
dities, m-rchaudise, silver, &c.
12. Procuratores linificiormn, charged with procuring the flax necessary
for the imperial fabrics. There were two in the west, at Vienna and at
Ravenna. IV. Comes rerum privatarum, (the crown treasurer.)
The public treasury was called ararium ; the private treasure of tho-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 41 I
emperor was called fiscus. Although he equally disposed of both one and
tbe other, yet there was a distinction, and they were administered separately.
The comes sacrarum largitionum had the administration of the ararium ,
and the comes rerum privatarum had that of the fiscus, whose revenues
were the property which devolved upon the emperor in any manner what
soever, the produce of certain taxes, &c. He had under his orders :
1. A department directed by the primicerius officii, and divided into four
offices. (1.) Scrinium beneficiorum. — Here were managed all affairs relative
to gifts of property, real or personal, to the concession of privileges,
&c, wliich the emperor made to such or such of his subjects.
(2.) Scrinium canonum. — This office received the rents of the farms
on the imperial property, and kept the accounts of them. The rent
was paid in money or in kind.
(3.) Scrinium securitatum. — In this office were deposited the re
ceipts of those who had received the money of the fisc ; and the dupli
cates of those wliich had been given to people who had paid anything
to the fisc.
(4.) Scrinium largitionum privatarum. — Here were kept the accounts
of money given by the emperor to individuals, and the salaries which
he paid to the people attached to his personal service.
2. Rationales vel procuratores rerum privatarum. — These were officers
charged with collecting the revenues of the fisc, in the provinces. They
were often judges in cases where the fisc was concerned.
3. Propositi bastagarum rei privata, inspectors of transports made for the
service of the prince. There were two of these in the west.
4. Prapositi stabnlorum, gregum et armentorum, inspectors of the
studs and herds of the emperor throughout the empire. There was also a
comes stabuli, answering to our master of the horse.
5. Procuratores saltuum, inspector of the woods and pasturages where
the herds of the emperor were taken to graze.
There were, doubtless, many other petty officers, mention of whom has
not come down to us.
V. Primicerius notariorum, (first secretary of state.)
This was a magistrate charged with keeping the register in which were
inscribed all the public functionaries, their duties, salaries, warrants of
nomination, &c. This register was called laterculum majus. The people
nominated to the places, paid certain fees to this primicerius notariorum,
who thus kept the list of all the dignities which we have just enumerated.
There were three classes of notarii.
In each province there was a provincial chest, in all one hundred and
eighteen chests. The receivers of taxes transmitted the money to these
chests, under the superintendence of the prafecti thesaurorum. These
latter gave to the comites largitionum the sums necessary for the expenses
of the province, the salary of the officers, &c. They transmitted the balance
to the governor of the province, who sent it to the chest of the sacred
bounty. The carriages intended to transport it, were furnished by men
kept on purpose, and formed part of the public post, (cursus publieus,)
wliich the government alone or those whom it authorised, had to make
use of.

<tl2 HISTORY OF
II.
Table of the Hierarchy of Ranks and Titles in the Roman
Empire at the commencement of the Fifth Century.
Rank and titles multiplied in the Roman empire, at the same epoch in
which the court and central government received their definitive form, as
given in the preceding table. These ranks and titles conferred important pri
vileges upon the possessors, with reference to the other citizens, but in no
degree rendered them independent of power. They were mere personal dis
tinctions attached to certain offices, and which even the holders of these
offices did no,t enjoy, until they had been authorized to assume them by
letters patent from the prince. There were six principal ranks or titles, the
rights of precedence among which were minutely regulated.
I. Nobilissimi.
This was the highest of the titles ; it came close to the throne, and con
ferred, to a certain extent, the dignity of Cassar. It was bestowed upon the
members and allies of the imperial family.
II. Illustres.
The persons decorated with this title, were twenty-seven in number-
viz., 1. The pretorian prefect of the East.
2. The pretorian prefect of Illyria.
3. The pretorian prefect of Italy.
4. The pretorian prefect of Gaul.
5. The prefect of Constantinople.
6. The prefect of Rome.
7 — 11. The five generals, commanders of the army in the East.
12. The general of the horse in the West.
13. The general of the infantry in the West.
14, 15. The two grand chamberlains of the East and West.
If), 17. The two masters of the offices in the East and West.
18, 19. The two questors of the palace in the East and West.
20, 21. The two counts of the sacred largesses in the East and West.
22, 23. The two counts of the privy purse in the East and West.
24, 25. The two counts commanding the body-guard, cavalry, in the East
and West.
26, 27. The two counts commanding the body-guard, infantry, in the
East and 'West.
The consuls were also illustres. The date of the introduction of this title
is not known. Augustus used to select, every month, at first fifteen, and
afterwards twenty, members of the senate, to fo'-m his privy council ; their
decisions were held as having emanated from the entire body of the senate ;
they were called patricii, while the other senators were only entitled claris-
simi. They, in concurrence with the sovereign, discussed and directed public
affairs. Constantine formed of them his consistorium principes (council of
state,) and entitled the members comites consistoriuni. They were, with the
oonsuls, the first honoured with the title of illustres, which was afterwards
extended, probably also under Constantine, to the magistrates above men i

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 413
*
tionea. The illustres were addressed thus, — vestra tua, or tua, mugnifi-
centia, celsitudo, sublimitas, magnitudo, eminentia, excellentia, &c. Those
who neglected to observe the etiquette in this respect, had to pay a fine of
three pounds in gold.
The illustres could only be tried for any offence, by the prince in person,
or his immediate delegates ; they were entitled to have their sentences read
by the registrar ; they were prohibited from making a traffic of their power
and influence, and from marrying women of an inferior rank ; this latter
prohibition, however, was recalled at a later period ; neither they nor their
families could be put to the torture, nor be subjected to any of the capital
punishments inflicted upon plebeians ; they were exempt from being sum
moned to any court as witnesses, &c.
II. Spedabiles.
Of these there were sixty-two.
1, 2. The two first chamberlains in the East and West. (Primicern
sacri cubiculi.)
3,4. The two counts of the palace, in the East and West. (Comites
castrenscs.) 5, 6. The two chief secretaries of the emperor, in the East and West.
(Primicerii notariorum.)
7 — 13. The seven heads of the principal departments of the central
government in the East and West. (Magistri scriniorum.)
14 — 16. The three proconsuls (governors of dioceses or provinces) of
Asia, Achaia, and Africa.
17. The count of the East.
18. The prefect of Egypt. ( Prafedus Augustalis.)
19 — 29. Eleven vicars, or governors of dioceses ; five in the empire of
the East, and six in the empire of the West.
30 — 37. Eight counts, or generals of armies ; two in the East, and six
in the West.
38  62. Twenty-five dukes, or generals of armies : thirteen in the East,
and twelve in the West.
The title of spedabiles was also given to the senators, probably under
Constantine. It seems to have had no other origin than the mania for the
classification of ranks. It was very uncertain in its application ; we find it
given to men who are called elsewhere clarissimi, or perfedissimi, or even
egregii; thus the duces, the silentiarii (ushers in law courts), the notarii
(secretaries), are designated sometimes by the one, sometimes by the other
of these appellations. IV. Clarissimi.
We find this title already, under Tiberius, in possession of the senators
and senatorial families. After a certain number of senators had become
illustres, the rest continued to assume the title oi clarissimi, and by degrees
it became extended to all the inferior officers employed in the provinces.
At the commencement of the fifth century there were, it would appear, 115
persons addressed by this title — viz.,
Thirty-seven consular personages, governors of provinces ; fifteen in the
East, and twenty-two in the West.
Five correctores, governors of provinces; two in the East, and three in
the West.

414 HISTORY OF
Seventy-three prasides, governors of provinces; forty-two in the East,
and three in the West. V. Perfectissimi.
This title was invented by Constantine ; we find it, indeed, made use of
in a law of Diocletian, but it was Constantine who introduced it into his
classification of ranks, and divided the perfectissimi into three grades. The
title was given,
To the prasides, or governors, of Arabia, Isanria, and Dalmatia.
To the rationales, collectors of the public revenues in the provinces.
To the magistri scriniorum, heads of the offices of the court of the sacred
largesses. To the counts of the sacred largesses, or imperial collectors and pay
masters in the provinces.
And to many other persons in the public service.
VI. Egregii.
This last title was very common ; it appertained to all the imperial secre
taries, to all the persons employed in the offices of the various governors of
the provinces, to priests, to the crown lawyers, and to a whole host of other
persons.

III.
Narrative of the Embassy sentfn 449 to Attila, by Theodosius
the Younger, Emperor of the East.
Intkoduction.
There is scarcely any feature of the history of this period which it were
more interesting to be thoroughly acquainted with, than the relations of the
Roman emperors with the barbarians, the Germans, Huns, Slavonians, &c,
who pressed upon their frontiers. A knowledge of this can alone enable us
to form anything like a precise and accurate idea of the comparative state of
Roman and of barbarian civilization. Unfortunately, the materials of this
knowledge are very deficient ; we have upon the subject little more than
mere sentences, paragraphs, scattered throughout the Latin chroniclers, the
confused traditions of the German tribes, or some old poems which, in their
present form, are evidently greatly posterior to the fourth and fifth century.
The narrative of the emhassy sent in 449 by Theodosius the Younger to
Attila, at that time master of the whole of Germany, and himself established
on the Danube, is, unquestionably, the fullest and most instructive of the
monuments remaining to us of this branch of history ; the only one, in fact,
which shows us the interior of the states, and the life of a barbarian chief,
and enables us to examine closely, and, as it were, in person, his relations
with the Romans : the narrative itself is of the highest authenticity ; it
formed part of the history of the war against Attila, in seven books, written
by the sophist Priscus, of Panium in Thrace, a member of the embassy ; it
has come down to us among the Excerpta legationum, inserted in the first
volume of the Collection of Byzantine historians, and which formed the
03rd book of a great historical collection made by one Theodosius, by order

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 415
of Constantine VI. Porphyrogenitus (911 — 959). I here present you
with a literal translation of this interesting production. The narrative, it its
true, relates to the empire of the east, not to that of the west, and to Hun
barbarians, not to German barbarians : but the relative situation of the two
empires and of the two classes of barbarians at this period was very nearly
the same ; the social state and manners of the Huns, notwithstanding the
diversity of origin and of language, very closely resembled, in general out
line, at all events, those of the Germans. We may, therefore, in the
absence of documents specially relating to the Germans or to the west,
regard the narrative before us, as a tolerably faithful image of the relations
of the expiring empire with its future conquerors :
448-^49;
Embassy of Attila lo Theodosius. Plot of Chrysaphus the Eunuch to
take away the life of Attila by means of Edeco and Vigilius. Embassy
of Theodosius io Attila. Details as to the manners of the Huns ; their
mode of life, &c.
. The Scythian Edeco, who had performed great military expleits, again
came with Orestes, in quality of envoy ; the latter, a Roman by birth, lived
in PaBonia, a country situate on the Savus, and which, in virtue of the treaty
with jEtius, general of the western Romans, was now subject to the bar
barian. This Edeco, on being admitted into the palace, presented to the emperor
letters from Attila, in wliich the barbarian complained that the deserters
from his eamp had not been brought back to him, and threatened to resume
hostilities unless they were forthwith restored ; and, moreover, unless the
Romans at once abstained from cultivating for themselves the territory which
the fortune of war had added to his dominions. Now this territory extended
along the Danube from PaBonia to Thrace ; its breadth was fifteen days
march. Moreover, the barbarian required that the great market should no
longer be held, as heretofore, on the banks of the Danube, but at Naissus,
which town, taken and sacked by him, and distant from the Danube five
days rapid march, was situate, he said, at the limit of the Scythian and
Roman states. Finally, he ordered that ambassadors should be sent to him,
men not of common birth and dignity, but consular personages, to receive
whom, he added, he would come as far as Sardica.
These letters having been read, Edeco quitted the presence in company
with Vigilius, who had acted as interpreter of the words of Attila ; and after
having visited the other apartments, repaired to that of Chrysaphus, servant
of the emperor, and in great favour and authority with him.
The barbarian had greatly admired the magnificence of the imperial abode.
Vigilius, who still accompanied him as interpreter, repeated to Crysaphus
his expressions of praise of the imperial palace, and his feeling that the
Romans must be very happy by reason of their vast wealth. Chrysaphus
hereupon told Edeco that he might himself have a similar abode, splendidly
decorated, with gilded ceilings, and be placed in possession of every other
advantage he might desire, if he would quit Scythia to reside at Rome. Edeco
replied that it was not permissible to the servant of a foreign prince to take
this step without his master's sanction. The eunuch asked him whether ho
dad easy access to Attila, and what power he was invested with in his own

416 HIST iR.Y OF
country. Edeco replied, that he and Attila were upon terms of familiar in-
tercourse, and that he was one of the guards who took it in turn to keep
watch over that prince in his abode. The eunuch then said, that if Edeco
would do a certain service for him, he would confer upon him very impor
tant advantages ; but that, as the affair required deliberation, he would com
municate it to him after he had taken supper, if he would then return to his
apartment without Orestes and his other fellow ambassadors. The barbarian
promised to do so ; and, accordingly, after he had supped, again presented
himself to Chrysaphus.
After they had, by means of the interpreter Vigilius, exchanged mutual
oaths, the eunuch, not to propose anything to the detriment of Edeco, but
solely what should be to his great advantage, the latter not to reveal what
should be proposed to him, even though he should not execute it, the eunuch
told Edeco that if on his return to Scythia, he would kill Attila, he should pass
the rest of his life in affluence and luxury. Edeco consented to the proposition,
and said that he should want some money to effect the business, about fifty
pounds in gold, to divide among the soldiers under his orders, and in other
¦ways to facilitate his proceedings. The eunuch offered to give him the
amount he named at once ; but the barbarian said that, in the first place, it
would be advisable to send him back, accompanied by Vigilius, to give Attila
the answer that should be determined upon respecting the deserters; that
then he and Vigilius would consult further upou the best mode of executing
the design, and that this being settled, Vigilius should come for the money;'
this, he said, would be better than for him to take the gold with him, seeing
that, immediately upon his return, in the first instance, Attila would assur
edly interrogate him and his fellows as to whether they had received any
presents, and as to how much money the Romans had given them, and that
in such case, were he to take the money at once, it would be impossible for
him to keep the fact a secret, by reason of his companions. The eunuch
admitted the soundness of the' barbarian's view of the matter, and acted
upon it.
After that Edeeo had taken his leave, Chrysaphus repaired to the emperor's
privy council, who immediately sent for Martial, the minister of the offices
and communicated to him the agreement entered into with the barbarian '.
for it was the very nature of his post that he should be made acquainted
with the matter, he being on all occasions a confidential adviser of the
emperor, and having under his orders all the couriers and interpreters, and
all the troops entrusted with the guard of the palace. The emperor and
Martial having considered the whole affair, it was determined to send to
Attila not only Vigilius, but Maximin also, as ambassador. Vicilius
whose ostensible office was that of interpreter, was to fulfil the directions of
Edeco ; while Maximin, who knew nothing of the real affair in hand, was
to deliver the emperor's letter to Attila.
The emperor's letter was to the effect, that he had sent Vigilius as inter
preter, and had selected Maximin as his ambassador, who was superior to
Vigilius in rank, being of illustrious birth, and employed about his own
person in many affairs ; that it was not fitting that Attila, violating treaties,
should invade the Roman territory ; that he had already sent back to him a
great many deserters, and now forwarded seventeen more, being all that
remained of those who had come over to him.
Besides these things which were set forth in the letter, Maximin has

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 417
ordered to ask Attila, by word of mouth, not to request men of higher rank
to be sent to him as ambassadors ; adding, that the predecessors of the
emperor had been accustomed to send to those who heretofore ruled in
Scythia, merely one of their soldiers who had become a prisoner of Rome, or
any other private messenger who was capable of repeating that which he
was told to say. That with reference to the other matters wliich still kept
np dissension between them, he would suggest that j* ttila should send him
Onegeses as an envoy , that it was impossible Attila could properly receive
a consular personage in a devastated place like Sardica.
Maximin having, at the earnest request of the emperor, undertaken the
proposed embassy, asked me to accompany him, and we departed with the
barbarians, and proceeded to Sardica, which is thirteen days rapid march
from Constantinople. On our arriva}, we invited Edeco and some other
principal barbarians to dine with us. Several oxen and sheep furnished by
the inhabitants of the place were slaughtered and prepared in various ways,
and everything being ready, we sat down tp our repast. .During the
banquet, the barbarians exalted Attila to the skies, and we the emperor.
Vigilius imprudently went the length of saying that it was not fitting to
compare a man with a god ; that the emperor was a god, and Attila only a
man. The Huns took this in very ill part, and by degrees became inflamed
with the fiercest anger. We endeavoured to turn the conversation, and to
appease them by soft words, which we at length succeeded in doing.
On rising from table, Maximin, desirous of conciliating by presents
Edeco and Orestes, gave them silk garments and precious stones of India.
Orestes, Edeco having withdrawn, said to Maximin that he was the wise and
prudent man who took care not to do as so many others did, and who
avoided anything that might be offensive to kings. We found out after
wards that some of our people, neglecting Orestes, had invited Edeco
to supper, and loaded him with presents. At the time, ignorant of this
circumstance, and not understanding what Orestes meant, we asked him
how and in what he had been treated displeasingly ; but he gave us do
answer, and quitted us.
Next day, on continuing our journey, we related to Vigilius what Orestes
bad said. He observed that the latter had no right to complain of not
obtaining the same honours with Edeco; that he was but a servant, a
common secretary of Attila, whilst Edeco, a Hun by birth, and famous for his
military exploits, far surpassed him in dignity. He then addressed Edeco
in the native language cf the latter, and afterwards told us, whether it was
true or false I know not, that he had repeated to Edeco what we had men
tioned. Edeco became so angry that we had great difficulty in tranquillizing
him. On arriving at the town of Naissus, which had been taken and destroyed
by the enemy, we found no inhabitants there except a few invalids, who had
taken refuge in the ruins of the temples. Proceeding thence into the desert
plains at some distance from the river, the banks of which were covered
with the bones of those who had been killed during the war, we arrived
at the abode of Agintheus, chief of the soldiers of Illyria, who dwelt not far
from Naissus. We had with us orders from the emperor for him to deliver
up to us five deserters, who were to complete the number of seventeen,
mentioned in the letter to Attila. We went to Agintheus and oi>p'ic;l for
VOL. II. E E

"tlS HISTORY OF
them ; and after he had addressed some wcfds of consolation to them, he
made them depart with us.
It was scarcely yet day wnen we crossed the mountains of Naissus
towards the Danube. We arrived, after many turnings and windings, in a
certain town which was still dark. We thought that our road should turn
towards the west ; but as soon as it was day, the rising sun presented itself
before our eyes. Ignorant of the position of this place, we exclaimed, as if
the sun, wliich we saw in front of us, was following another than its
accustomed course, and thus indicated commotion in the regular course of
things ; but it was because of the inequalities of places that this part of the
route turned towards the east.
From this place, by a steep and difficult road, we descended into the
swampy plains. There the barbarian boatmen received us in canoes, made
of a single piece, which they construct from the trunks of trees cut and
scooped out, and they passed us over the river.1 It was not for our passage
that these canoes had been prepared, but for that of a multitude of barbarians
whom we met upon the road, for Attila seemed marching to the invasion oi
the frontiers of the empire, as to a hunting party. Such were the prepara
tions for war against the Romans, and the deserters not yet being given up,
merely served as a pretext for commencing it.
After having passed the Danube, and having proceeded«with the barbarians
the distance of fifteen stadia, they made us stop in a plain, to wait while
Edeco went to announce our arrival to Attila.2 The barbarians who were
to be our guides still remained with us. Towards night, while we were
at supper, we heard the sound of approaching horses : two Scythian
warriors soon appeared, who ordered us to repair to Attila. We invited
them first to partake of our supper; they descended from their horses,
supped with us, and the next day marched before us to show us the road.
About the eighth hour of the day we arrived at the tent of Attila.3 There
were also a large number of others. As we wished to plant ours on a
certain hill, the barbarians hastened to prevent us, because those of Attila
were placed in a valley on the side. We left them to decide at their will
where our tents were to be pitched.
There soon arrived Edeco, Scotta, Orestes, and some other principal
Scythians, who demanded with what object we had undertaken this embassy.
We mutually looked at each other, astonished at so ridiculous a ques
tion. They still insisted, and assembled in a crowd and tumult to force
an answer from us. We answered that the emperor had commanded
1 They probably passed the Danube near the small town of Aqua;
whose environs, situated between a chain of mountains and the river, must
have been marshy ; perhaps it was at the confluence of the Marcus with
the Danube.
2 This plain must be in the Bannat of Temeswar ; the tents of Attila
were, therefore, probably pitched between the Themes and the Danube.
3 Reckoning an hour's march at a league, their tents would be about
nine leagues from the Danube. The great number of boats already pre
pared upon the Danube for the passage of troops, and the multitude of
barbarians whom the ambassadors had met, induce me to believe that they
were not, in fact, more distant from it.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 419
us to show our commission to Attila alone, and to none others. Scotta,!
offended at these words, said that for what he did he had received the order
of his chief. "Greeks," cried he, "we well know your craft and your perfidy
in affairs." We protested that the obligation had never been imposed upon
ambassadors to display the object of their mission before being admitted
into the presence of those to whom they were sent.
We added, that the Scythians must needs know it, since they had often sent
deputies to the emperor, and that we ought in all respects to enjoy the
same rights ; that, otherwise, the privileges of ambassadors would be vio -
lated. They immediately went to seek Attila, and, returning soon after,
but without Edeco, they openly told us all that our orders contained, and
enjoined us to depart immediately, if we had nothing further to treat of with
them. These words threw us into great anxiety ; we could not conceive how
the projects of the emperor, which the gods themselves could not pene
trate, had been discovered and revealed ; but we thought it best not to
show any of our orders until they had allowed us to see Attila. We an
swered; '* Whatever may be the aim of our mission, whether we may
have come to treat of what you have just said, or of any other matter, it
concerns only your chief, and we are resolved to speak with none but him.'-'
They then renewed their order for us to depart immediately.
As we were making our preparations for departure, Vigilius reproached
us for the answer which we had just made to the Scythians : " It would
have been much better to have lied," said he, " than to return without having.
done anything. If I had spoken with Attila, I could easily have deterred
him from making war against the Romans ; I have formerly rendered him
many services, and I was very useful to him at the time of the embassy of
Anatolius. Edeco is of the same opinion as myself." Whether he spoke
true or false, his only object was to profit by the embassy, to find an occa
sion to make Attila fall into the snare prepared for him, and to carry back the
gold which Edeco had said he required to divide among certain warriors.
But Vigilius was ignorant that he was betrayed : Edeco, in fact, whether he
feared that Orestes would report to Attila what had been said at the supper
of Sardica, or accuse him of having secret interviews with the emperor and
Chrysaphus, had revealed to Attila the conspiracy against his life, and in
formed him of the quantity of gold which was to be provided for this design,
as well as of all the subjects concerning which we were to treat in our

Forced, therefore, to return, despite the approach of night, we were getting
ready our horses, when the barbarians came to tell me that Attila ordered
we should remain, by reason of the night, which opposed our departure.
Men immediately came leading an ox to us, and brought us fish of the
Danube,1 which Attila sent us. After having supped, we went to sleep.
When day appeared, we hoped that Attila would be softened, and would make
1 The carp of the Danube were celebrated at this epoch, and formed part
of the luxury of the tables of the barbarians. Cassiodorus says: Privati
est habere quod locus continet ; in principali convivio hoc decet exquiri quod
visum debeat admirari. Destinet carpam Danubius, a Rheno venial ancorago,
(Van., 1. xii. ep. 4.)
E E 2

420 HISTORY OF
us some favourable answer ; but the_ same barbarians came on his part to
repeat the order for us to go, if we had no other business to speak of except
that with which he was already acquainted. We answered that we had not,
and we prepared to retreat, although Vigilius did all he could to get us to
say that we had to speak with Attila of things which would much interest
him. As I saw that Maximin was afflicted, I took with me Rusticus, who under
stood the language of the barbarians : he had accompanied us into Scythia,
not because of the embassy, but for some private business which he had with
Jonstantius, an Italian by origin, whom Aetius, the general of the western
Romans, had sent to Attila as a secretary. I sought Scotta (Onegeses being
absent,) and told him, through the medium of Rusticus, that he should re
ceive rich presents from Maximin, if he would procure a safe interview with
Attila. I added that the ambassador had to speak of things very advantageous,
not only to the Romans, but to the Huns ; that his embassy would be very
profitable to Onegeses himself, for the emperor requested Attila to send him
to his court, to terminate the differences of the two nations, and that he would
return loaded with the most magnificent presents. I observed to him, that
since Onegeses was absent, he could not do less than his brother would have
done in so important an affair. " I know," said I, " that Attila also places
great confidence in you ; but we cannot reasonably believe all one has heard
on this point, and it is for you to prove to us that Attila really bestows such
favour upon you." " Rest content," said the barbarian immediately, " whether
in speaking or acting, I have as much credit with Attila as my brother," and,
mounting his horse, he departed for the camp of Attila.
I returned to Maximin, whom I found with Vigilius, very much troubled
and uncertain as to the ¦ course he ought to take ; I recounted to him the
conversation I had just had with Scotta, and what answer he had given me •
I then got him to prepare presents to make to this Hun, and to think what
he should say to Attila. They immediately arose, (for I had found them
lying on the turf,) thanked me for the trouble I had taken, and recalled
those of their people who had already commenced their journey ; they then
discussed between them what Maximin should say to Attila, and how they
should give him the presents which he brought for him on the part of the
emperor.' While we were occupied with all these things, Attila sent for us by Scotta ;
we therefore set forward toward his tent, which we found surrounded by a
multitude of barbarians, who formed a guard all round it.
When we were allowed to enter, and had been introduced, we saw Attila
seated on a wooden chair : we remained at some distance from the throne ;
Maximin advanced, saluted the barbarian, and giving the letter of the
emperor, said that the emperor wished him and all his people health and
prosperity. " May that happen to the Romans which they desire for me !"
answered the Barbarian ; and immediately turning towards Vigilius, he
called him an impudent animal, asked him how he dared present himself
before him, when he must know what had been settled with reference to
peace at the time when he accompanied the embassy of Anatolius, and
added, that no other ambassador ought to have approached him until all the
deserters had been sent back. Vigilius attempted to reply that they had all
been given up, and that there no longer remained one among the Romans ;
but Attila, becoming more and more heated, loaded him with reproaches and

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 421
abuse, and raising bis voice in fury, told him, that but for his respect for tho
character of ambassador which restrained his rage, he would have crucified
him, and abandoned him to the vultures, to punish him for his audacity and
the insolence of his language. He added, there were still many deserters
among the Romans ; and having a list brought on which their names were
written, he ordered his secretaries to read it aloud.
After this reading had made known all who were still wanting, Attila
required that Vigilius should immediately set out with Esla to carry an
order to-the Romans to send him all the Scythian deserters who were still
in their- power, and who had gone over to them since the time when
Carpilion, son of Aetius, general of the western Romans, had remained as
hostage in his court. " 1 will not allow my slaves to bear arms against
me," said he ; " they shall not be any help to those who pretend to intrust to
them the guard of lands which I have conquered. Where, throughout the
whole Roman empire, is the city or fortress which, can remain whole and
erect, when I have decided that it shall be destroyed ? After I have pro
claimed my will concerning the deserters, let the envoys immediately return
to me to announce whether their masters choose to return them, or whether
they prefer war."
He had begun by ordering Maximin to await the answer which he should
make to the letter of the emperor, but he demanded the presents forthwith.
After having given them to him, we retired into our tent, where we con
versed in our native tongue upon all that had just been said. As Vigilius
was astonished at the abuse with which Attila had loaded him, he who
had experienced so much benevolence and kindness from him in his first
embassy, I told him 1 was very much afraid that some of the barbarians
who hail supped with us at Sardica had irritated Attila by telling him that
Vigilius had called the emperor a god and Attila » man. This also
appeared probable to Maximin, who was ignorant of the conspiracy formed
against the king of the Huns : but Vigilius was in very great anxiety, and
could not divine the cause of the abuse and rage of Attila; it was impossible
to believe, as he afterwards said to us, that the conversation at the supper
at Sardica had been reported to him, or that the conspiracy had been
. discovered. The fear which had overcome aU hearts was such, that, with
the exception of Edeco, none who surrounded Attila dare address a word
to him ; and Vigilius thought that Edeco would only be the more careful
to keep everything a profound secret, both on account of the oath which he
had taken, and by reason of the gravity of the affair. He would fear, in
fact, that the crime of having been present, at clandestine councils directed
against Attila, would cause him to be treated as guilty, and very severely
punished. While we were a prey to this uneasiness, Edeco came in; he took
Vigilius aside, (he indeed feigned a wish to execute seriously and sincerely
the project which they had formed); he told him to bring the gold which
he was to distribute among those whom he made use of in striking the
blow, and then he left us. Curiosity caused us to ask Vigilius what
Edeco had just said to him; but, deceived himself, he persisted m
deceiving us, and concealing the true subject of their conversation, he
pretended that Edeco had reported to him that it was because of the
deserters that Attila was so enraged against him ; the king of the Huns
required, he added, either that they should be given up to him, or that they

422 HISTORY OF
should send him ambassadors, drawn from among the richest and most
powerful men of the empire.
Our conversation was interrupted by people who came, on the part of
Attila, to forbid both us and Vigilius to buy any Roman captive, or bar
barian slave, or anything whatever, except the necessaries of life, until the
differences between the Huns and the Romans were terminated. This pro
hibition was not without intention : he wished to detect Vigilius in the
fact, by leaving him no pretext upon which he could excuse himself for
having brought a considerable number of money. He also ordered us to
wait for Onegeses, to receive from him the answer to our embassy, and
that we ourselves should give him the presents sent by the emperor, and
what we wished to have. Onegeses had. in fact, been sent to the Acatzires,
with Attila's eldest son. After this order had been given to us, he made
Vigilius and, Esla set out for Constantinople, under the pretext of again
demanding the deserters, but, in fact, with the intention that Vigilius should
briug the gold promised to Edeco.
After the departure of Vigilius, we did not remain more than one day iu
this place ; we departed with Attila for more distant places, towards the
north. We had proceeded but a very short distance with the barbarians,
when we changed the direction, according to the order of the Scythians,
our guides.' Attila, however, stopped at a certain village, where he took
fur wife his daughter Esca, although he already had several w-ives ; the laws
of the Scythians allow this.2
Thence we proceeded across a great plain, over a level and easy road, and
1 Prisons does not say what their new direction was : everything leads to
the supposition that it was towards the west, and that in general their route
lay almost constantly towards the north-west.
2 This passage has been the subject of great discussion : the following is
the phrase of Priscus : 'Ev r; yapttv Qvyartpa EoKap e/3ov\ero. The
sense which naturally presents itself is : " where he willed to espouse his
daughter Esca." Still the his iswanting, and it would seem as though Priscus
ought to have put eavrov. Some learned men have inferred from this,
that it was not his daughter whom Attila married, but that it was the
daughter . Esca, and that it must be read, Qvyartpa Tav EtTKau. ; they
lme remarked, and with reason, that the Greeks almost always made the
proper names of barbarians, with which they were imperfectly acquainted,
indeclinable ; that if Attila had married his own daughter, Priscus would
not have failed to insist upon the irregularity of such a marriage ; and the
desire to clear Attila from the crime of incest has made them regard this
conjecture as certain. It is possibly well founded ; still they cannot
dispute that the following phrase of Priscus : " The laws of the Scythians
allow this," relates to Attila having married his daughter, as well as to the
plurality of his wives ; and moreover, historical testimony does not allow
us to doubt but that, among a large number of barbarous nations, it was
allowable for a man to marry his daughter ; that of Saint Jerome is positive :
Persa, Medi, Indi, et JEthiopes, regna non modica, et Romano regno
paria, cum matrihus et aviis, aim fdiabus et nepotibus copulantur.
(Lib. ii. Adv. Jovinianum.) Why should not the Huns have done the
Game?

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 423
we mot with many navigable rivers ; the largest, after the Danube, are called
the Drecon, the Tigas, and the Tiphisas. We crossed the most considerable
upon boats of a single piece, which those who inhabit the banks of the
river moke use of; the others we crossed in canoes which the barbarians always
have with them ; for they carry them on chariots, to make use of upon
ponds and inundated places. They brought us provisions from the villages,
millet instead of wheat ; mead instead of wine ; it is thus that the inhabi
tants call them. Those who accompanied us to serve us, brought millet, and
gave us a kind of drink made from barley, which the barbarians call cam.
At the approach of night, after a rather long journey, we set up our tents
upon the borders of a morass, whence the inhabitants of the neighbouring
villages drew their water, which was very good to drink: but a violent hurri
cane, mixed with lightning, thunder, and rain, suddenly arising, our tent was
overthrown, and our utensils thrown into the morass. Alarmed with this fall
and with the storm, wc abandoned the place ; we dispersed ourselves, and
each at hazard took the road which seemed best to him, amidst darkness and
rain. Arrived at last, from different directions, at the huts of the village, we
assembled and demanded with loud cries what we wanted. On this noise, the
Scytliians came out : they lighted the reeds which serve them for torches, and
asked what we wanted, and why we raised such cries ? the barbarians who
accompanied us, answered that we had been dispersed and had lost our way
in the tempest : they then granted us a generous hospitality, and made us a
fire with dry reeds.
The mistress of the village, one of the wives of Bleda, sent us nourish
ment and beautiful women. This among the Scythians is looked upon as
an honour. We thanked the women for the provisions which they had
brought us, and we slept in our huts, without availing ourselves of the latter
present of their queen. When it was day, we set about seeking for the
moveables and travelling utensils which we had lost ; we found part of them
in the place where we had stopped in the evening, and a part on the borders
of the morass or in the morass itself : the storm had ceased, the sun had
risen brilliantly, and we passed the whole day in the village, drying our
things. After "having taken care of our horses and other beasts of burden,
we went to salute the queen, and, not wishing to be inferior in generosity
to the barbarians who had received us so well, we gave her silver cups, red
woollen garments, Indian pepper, dates and other dry fruit : after" wishing all
kind of prosperity to the inhabitants of the village, in return for the hospi
tahty which had been accorded us, we proceeded on our way.
After a march of six days, the Scythians, our guides, ordered us to stop
at a certain village, in order that we might continue our route in the train of
Attila, who was going to pass that way ; we here met the ambassadors whom
the western Romans had sent to him ; the principal were : Romulus, invested
with the title of count, Primutus, prefect of Norica, and Romanus, chief of
a body of troops. With them were Constantius, whom jEtius had sent to
Attila for a secretary, and Tatullus, father of Orestes, the colleague of Edeco ;
the latter had accompanied them not because of the embassy, but out of
friendship, and by reason of their own affairs. Constantius had become united
with them during his sojourn in Italy, and family reasons had determined
Tatullus ; his son, Orestes, had taken for wife the daughter of Romulus of
Petovio, a city of Norica.
These ambassadors had been endeavouring to soften Attila, who had d*.

124 HISTORY OF
manded that they should give him up Sylvanus, prefect of the imperial plate of
Rome, because he had received some gold cups which had been sent to him by
a certain Constantius. This Constantius, a native of western Gaul, had been
given to Attila and to Bleda for a secretary, in the same way as, at a later
period, another Constantius was. This man then, at the time wlien the
town of Sirmium, in Pannonia, was besieged by the Scythians, had received
some gold vases from the bishop of the city ; the bishop wished, that if he
survived the taking of the town, the value of these vases should be employed
for his ransom, and that, if he died, this money should serve to deliver the cap
tive citizens ; but Constantius, after the ruin of the town, without troubling
himself as to the results of the siege, repaired to Italy on business, gave the
vases to Sylvanus, received the price of them, and it was arranged between
them that if Constantius repaid the capital and interest of this money within
a fixed time, the vases should be returned to him ; that, in the contrary case,
Sylvanus should keep and use them as his own. Attila and Bleda, suspect
ing this Constantius of treason, had him crucified ; and Attila, informed of
the affair of the cups of gold, demanded that they should give up Sylvanus
to him, as having stolen property belonging to him. Aetius and the emperor
of the western Romans sent deputies to him, to tell him that Sylvanus had
not stolen these vases, that he was the creditor of Constantius, that he had
received them in pledge for the sum lent, and had sold them to the first priest
who wished to buy them, seeing that it was not permitted to laymen to make
use of cups consecrated to God. They were to add, in case such good
reasons and respect for God did not prevent Attila from persisting in again
demanding the cups, that Sylvanus would send him the price -of them, but
they could not give up a man who had done no wrong.
Such was the object of the mission of these deputies, who were following
the barbarian in order to obtain an answer and then return.
As we were to march by the same route as Attila, we waited for him
to go before us, and we followed him at a short distance with the rest of
the barbarians. After having crossed some rivers, we arrived at a large
town ; here was the house of Attila, much higher and more beautiful than
any of the other houses of his empire ; it was made of highly polished planks,
and surrounded with a palisade of wood, not by way of fortification, but as
an ornament.
The house nearest, to the king's was that of Onegeses, also surrounded
with a palisade of wood, but it was neither so high nor furnished with
towers like that of Attila. At some distance from the enclosure of the house
was situated the bath which Onegeses, the richest and most powerful of the
Scythians next to Attila, had had constructed with stones brought from Pan
nonia; there was, indeed, in this part of Scythia, neither stones nor large
trees, and it was necessary to get materials elsewhere. The architect who
had constructed this bath, made prisoner at Sirmium, had hoped that liberty
would be the reward of his labour, but this sweet hope was utterly deceived ;
he was cast, on the contrary, into a far still harder servitude ; Onegeses made
him his bather, and he waited on him and all his family when they went to
the bath.
When Attila arrived at this village, young girls came to meet him ; they
walked in a file, under pieces of fine white linen, held up on either side by
many ranks of women, and so well held out, that, under each piece, walked
six virgins, or even more : they sang barbarous songs.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 425
We were already close to the house of Onegeses, past which the road
leading to that of the king went, when his wife came out, followed by a multi
tude of women slaves, who brought meats and wine, which is regarded among
the Scythians as the greatest honour. She saluted Attila, and prayed
him to taste her meats, which she presented to him with the most lively pro
testations of her devotion. The king, to give a mark of his good- will towards
tiie wife of his confidant, eat upon his horse. The barbarians who escorted
him held the table, which was of silver, up to him. After having dipped his
Jips into the cup which they offered him, he entered his palace, which was
much more conspicuous than any of the other houses, and stood upon an
eminence. As for us, we remained in the house of Onegeses, according to the orders
of the latter, who had returned with the son of Attila ; we were received by
his wife and by the other illustrious chiefs of his family, and we.supped there.
Onegeses could not remain with ns and enjoy himself at table, because he
had to give an account to Attila of what he had done in his mission, and of
the accident which had happened to his son, who had dislocated his right
wrist ; this was the first time he had presented himself before the king of
the Huns since his return.
After supper, we quitted the house of Onsgeses, and pitched our tents
nearer to the palace of Attila, in order that Maximin, who was to have an
interview with that prince, and to converse with those who acted as his
council, might thus be as little distant as possible. There we passed the
night. When day appeared, Maximin sent me to Onegeses to carry him the pre
sents which he himself offered and those which the emperor sent him, and
to ask him when and where he could have a conversation. I therefore
repaired to Onegeses, with the slaves who carried the presents ; the doors
were closed, and I was obliged to wait till they were opened, and until some
came out who could inform him of my arrival.
While I passed the time in walking round the enclosure of the house of
Onegeses, some one advanced whom I at first took for a barbarian of the
Scythian army, and who saluted me in Greek, saying to me, Xaipe. I
was surprised that a Scythian should speak Greek, for the barbarians, shut
up in their own manners, cultivate and speak none but barbarous languages,
that of the Huns or that of the Goths ; those who have much commercial
intercourse with the Romans also speak Latin ; none of them speak Greek,
with the exception of the captive refugees in Thrace or in maritime Ulyria ;
but when we meet with these latter, they are easily recognised by their
wretched clothing and pale faces, signs of the ill fortune into which they
have fallen. This man, on the contrary, had the air of a happy and rich
Scythian; he was elegantly clothed, and had his head shaved round : salu
ting him in return, I asked him who he was, from whence he came into the
country of the barbarians, and why he had adopted the customs of the
Scythians? "You are, then, anxious to know ?" said he. " My reason for
asking," I answered, "is, that you spoke Greek." He then told me, smiling,
that he was a Greek by birth, that he had established himself with a view
to commerce, at Viminacium, a town of Mcesia on the Danube, that he had
long remained there, and had there married a rich wife ; but that, at
the taking of the town, all his fortune vanished, and that in the subdi
vision of booty his goods and himself had fallen to Onegeses. It is, indeed,

426 HISTORY OF
the custom among the Scythians, for the principal chiefs, after Attila^ to put
aside the richest captives and share them afterwards. My Greek had after
wards courageously fought against the Romans ; he had assisted in subject
ing the nation of the Acatzires to his barbarous master, and, according to
the Scythian laws, he obtained liberty as a reward, with the possession of
all which he had acquired in war ; he had married a barbarian wife, by whom
he had children ; he was the companion of Onegeses, and his new mode of
life appeared to him far preferable to the old. In fact, those who remain
among the ScytMans, after having supported the fatigues of war, pass theii
life without any trouble ; each enjoys the property that fate has granted him,
and no one interferes v.ith or troubles, him in any way whatever 
While we thus conversed, one of the domestics of Onegeses opened the
gates. I hastened towards him, and asked for Onegeses ; I added, that I
had to speak with him on the part of Maximin, the ambassador from the
Romans : he answered, that if I waited a little, I might soon see him, for he
was going out; shortly afterwards, indeed, I saw Onegeses advancing; I
went towards him, saying, " The ambassador from the Romans salutes you,
aud I bring you presents on his part, as well as the gold sent you by the
emperor." As I tried to ask him when and where he would converse with
us, he ordered his people to take the gold and presents, and told me to inform
Maximin that he would repair to him soon.
I therefore returned to tell Maximin that Onegeses was about to visit
him ; almost immediately afterwards he arrived at our tent, and, addressing
himself to the ambassador, thanked him for the gifts of the emperor and his
own, asking him what he wished, since he had required him to come
Maximin answered him, that the time approached when he might acquire
great glory, by repairing to the emperor, terminating the contentions of the
Huns and the Romans, and by his wisdom establishing a solid peace be
tween the two nations ; a peace which would not only be very advantageous
to them, but which would be of so much value to him and to all his people,
as his family would then experience an eternal gratitude from the emperor
and all the imperial race. Onegeses then asked how he could render him
self agreeable to the emperor and terminate these contests : Maximin
answered him that he had but to take part in the present affairs, go to
thank the emperor, carefully study the causes of discord, and interpose his
credit to arrange the differences, according to the conditions of treaties-
" But," said Onegeses, " I long since informed the emperor and his coun
cillors of the will of Attila concerning this affair : do the Romans think
that their intreaties will induce me to betray my master, and to hold no
reckoning of the advantages which I have found among the Scythians for
my wives and children ? Is it not better to serve with Attila, than to enjoy
the greatest riches with the Romans ? As to the rest, I shall be much
more useful to them in remaining at home, in calming and softening the
rage of my master, if he is forming any violent project against the empire,
than by repairing to Constantinople, and exposing myself to suspicions, if
I were to do anything which appears contrary to the interest of Attila."
At these words, thinking that I should be charged to converse with him,
upon what we desired to learn, -(such an interview little suiting the dignity
with which Maximin was invested.) he withdrew.
The next day, I went into the interior inclosure of the house of Attila, to
oarry presents to his wife, who was called Creca : he had three children by

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 427
her; the elaest already reigned over the Acatzires, and the other nations
which inhabited Scythia, around the Pontus Euxinus. Within this enclosure,
there were many edifices, partly constructed of carved planks, elegantly
arranged : partly of uncarved beams, well formed with the adze, and polished,'
with round pieces of wood mixed with them ; the circles which united them,
rising from the ground, were elevated and distributed, according to certain
proportions. Here lived the wife of Attila. The barbarians who guarded
the gates allowed me to enter, and 1 found her lying on a soft couch the
floor was ornamented with carpet, upon which we walked : numerous slaves
surrounded her in a circle ; and opposite to her, maid servants, seated on
the ground, were making piece work, composed of linen of various colours,
which the barbarians wear over their dress as ornaments.
After having saluted Creca, and offered her the presents, I withdrew; and,
while waiting for Onegeses to return from the palace, whither he had
already repaired, I went through the other buildings of the enclosure where
Attila dwelt. While I was there, with many other persons, (as 1 was known.
lo the guards of Attila and the barbarians of his train, they allowed me to
go everywhere,) I saw a numerous crowd advancing in tumult, and with a
great noise. Attila came out with a grave air : all eyes were directed to
wards him ; Onegeses accompanied him, and he seated himself before his
house. Many people who had causes approached him, and he delivered
judgments upon them. He then re-entered his palace, where he received
deputies from barbarian nations, who had come to seek him.
While I waited for Onegeses, Romulus, Promutus, and Romanus, the depu
ties who came from Italy about the affair of the gold vases, Rusticus, who was
in the train of Constantius, and Constantiolus, a native of Pannonia, then
under Attila, spoke to me, and asked me if we had received our dismissal.
" It is to know this of Onegeses," said I, " that I wait in this enclosure."
1 asked, in my turn, whether they had obtained any favourable answer con
cerning the object of their mission. "Not at all," answered they; "it is
impossible to change Attila's determination ; he threatens war, unless they
give him up Sylvanus."
As we were expressing our mutual astonishment at the intractable pride
of the barbarian, Romulus, a man of great experience, and who had been
charged with many very honourable missions, said to us : " This pride
arises from his happy fortune, which has placed him in a rank so elevated ;
his fortune gives him great powsr, and he is so inflated with it, that reason
has no access to him, and he only thinks that just which he has once taken
into his head; none of those who have reigned, whether in Scythia or else
where, have done such great things in so short a time ; he has subdued all
Scythia, he has extended his dominion to the islands of the ocean, he has
made the Romans his tributaries ; not content with this, he meditates still
greater enterprises ; he still wishes to drive back the frontiers of his empire,
and he is preparing to attack the Persians."
One of us asked what road led from Scythia to Persia ; Romulus answered
that the country of the Medes was situated not very far from that of the
Scythians, and that the Huns knew the road well, having often gone it.
During the ravages made in their country by a famine, and the tranquillity
in which the Romans, occupied elsewhere, left them, BasicJi and Currich,
warriors of the royal family of the Scythians, and chiefs of numerous troops,
had peuetrated into the country of the Medes; these chiefs, lately come to

428 HISTORY OF
Rome to treat for an alliance, related that they had journeyed across a desert
country, that they had traversed a morass, which Romulus believed to be the
Palus-Meotis, and that after fifteen days, after having ascended certain
mountains, they descended into Medea ; that there, while they were pillag
ing and making incursions in the country, there suddenly came a Persian
army, which darkened the air with its arrows ; that at the sight of such
danger, they had retired, repassed the mountains, and brought but a small
part of their booty, because the Medes had regained the greater portion ;
that to avoid the shock of the enemy, they had taken another route, had
crossed places strewn with marine stones which burnt,1 and at last arrived
at their native country after a journey, the duration of which Romulus
could not recollect : it was easy to see from this that Scythia was not very
far from the country of the Medes.
Romulus added, that if, in consequence, the idea of attacking the Medes
seized upon Attila, the invasion would cost him neither much care nor fatigue,
and that he would not have a long road to take in order to fall upon the
Medes, the Parthians, and the Persians, and oblige them to pay him tribute.
He had such an immense number of troops, that no nation could resist him.
We then set about forming the wish that Attila might attack the Persians
and thus turn the weight of the war from us. " It is to be feared," said
Constantiolus, " that the Persians once conquered, he will treat the Romans
not as a friend but as a master. Now we send him gold, because of the
dignity with which we ourselves have invested him ; but if he subjugates
the Medes, the Parthians, and the Persians, he will no longer spare the
Romans, who form, on this side, the boundaries of his empire ; he will
regard them as his slaves, and will force them to obey his terrible and in
supportable will."
The dignity of which Constantiolus spoke, was that of general of the
Roman armies, an honour which Attila had received from the emperor,
receiving at the same time the salary attached to this title. Constantiolus
thought that Attila would without scruple violate the duties of this dignity,
or of any other with which it might please the Romans to invest him,
and that he would force them to give him the name of king instead of
that of general. Already, when he was out of humour, he said that the
generals of his armies were his slaves, and that his generals, in his eyes, were
the equals of the Roman emperors.
The discovery of the sword of Mars had greatly added to his power.
This sword, formerly worshipped by the kings of the Scythians, as being
sacred to the god of war, had disappeared for many centuries, and had just
been again found on the occasion of the wounding an ox. While we dis
cussed the matter rather eagerly, Onegeses came out; we approached and
asked him concerning the affairs with which we were charged. After con
versing with some barbarians he told me to ask Maximin what consular
personage the Romans proposed to send to Attila. I returned to our tent,
and related to Maximin what Onegeses had just said to me ; we deliberated
upon what answer to make to the barbarians. I then returned to Onegeses

' These stones were the bitumen which abounds upon the borders of the
sea of Azof and the Black Sea

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 429
and told that the Romans eagerly desired that he should repair to Rome,
and that he should be charged witb arranging their differences with Attila;
but that if they were deceived in this hope, the emperor would send what
ever ambassador he pleased. He ordered me immediately to fetch Maximin ;
and directly he came he conducted him to Attila. Maximin returning soon
after, told us that the barbarian declared that he positively willed the em
peror to send him as an ambassador, Nomius or Anatolius, and that he would
receive no other. Maximin observed to him that it was not proper to make
the deputies who should be sent to him suspected of the emperor, by
designating them, but Attila answered that if the Romans refused him he
would terminate the quarrel by taking arms.
We had scarcely entered our tent when the father of Orestes came to say :
" Attila invites you both to a banquet which is to take place about the
ninth hour of the day." At the hour mentioned, we repaired to the invitation,
and in company with the ambassadors of the western Romans we presented
ourselves before the entry of the hall in front of Attila ; there, the cup
bearers, according to the usage of the country, presented us a cup, in
order that, before sitting down, we should offer libations ; after having
performed this, and having tasted of the cup, we occupied the seats upon
which we were to sup.
Seats were prepared on each side the hall, along the walls ; in the midst
was Attila, upon a couch, opposite to which was another couch, and behind
that the steps of a staircase which led to where this prince slept.
This couch was ornamented with cloths of various colours, and resembled
those which the Romans and the Greeks prepare for married people. It
was then arranged that the first rank of guests should seat themselves on
the right of Attila, and the second rank on the left ; we were placed in the
second rank with Berich, a very considerable warrior among the Scythians,
but Berich was above us. Onegeses occupied the first seat on the right of
the king, and opposite him were two, of the sons of Attila ; the eldest
lay upon the same couch as his father, not by his side but below him, and
he always kept his eyes cast down out of respect for his father.
Every one being seated, Attila's cup-bearer presented him a cup of wine ;
on receiving it, Attila saluted him who occupied the first place. At this
honour the latter immediately arose : he was not allowed to re-seat himself
until Attila, tasting the cup, or emptying the contents, had returned it to the
cup-bearer. Attila, on the contrary, remained seated, while the guests, each
receiving a cup in his turn, gave him homage, by saluting him and tasting
the wine. Each guest had a cup-bearer, who took his place after Attila's
had gone. All the guests were honoured in the same manner; Attila. when
it came to our turn, saluted us in the manner of the Thracians. After
these ceremonies of politeness, the cup-bearers retired.
By the side of Attila's table were prepared four other tables, made to
receive three or four, or even more guests, each of whom, without dis
arranging the order of seats, could take upon plates with his knife whatever
he pleased. In the middle, first the servant of Attila came forward, carrying
a dish full of meat, then those who were to serve the other guests covered
the tables with bread and meats. There had been prepared for the barba
rians, and for us, meats and ragouts of all kinds, and they served them to us
upon plates of silver, but Attila had only a wooden plate, and eat nothing
but plain meat.

430 HISTORY Oi?
In all things he showed the same simplicity : the guests drank from
cups of gold and silver ; Attila had only a wooden cup ; his clothes were
very simple, and were only distinguished from the other barbarians because
they were of one colour, and were without ornaments ; his sword, the cords
of his shoes, the reins of his horse, were not like those of the other
Scythians, decorated with plates of gold or precious stones.
When the meats served in the first plates were eaten, we arose, and no
one again sat down until he had drank a full cup of wine to the health and
prosperity of Attila, according to the forms which I have just described.
After rendering him this homage, we re-seated ourselves. They then
brought to every table fresh plates with other meats ; and when each was
satisfied, we arose, again drank as at first, and again sat down
On the approach of night the meats were taken away ; two Scythians
advanced, and recited before Attila verses of their own composition, in
which they sang of his victories and warlike virtues. The attention of all
the guests was fixed upon them ; some were charmed by the verses, others
were excited by the description of battles ; tears flowed down the cheeks of
those whose strength had been worn away by age, and who could therefore
no longer satisfy their thirst for war and glory. After these barbarian
songs were ended, a buffoon came and went through all sorts of extrava
gances and ridiculous gesticulations and sayings, which made those present
laugh heartily
The last person who came in was the Moor, Zercho : Edeco had told
him to come to Attila, and promised to employ all his influence to have his
wife brought to him ; the Moor had married but some years before in Scy
thia, where he enjoyed great favour with Bleda, but on quitting that coun
try had left her behind him. When Attila sent the woman as a gift to
Aetius, Zercho at first hoped to see her again ; but this hope had been
frustrated by reason that Attila had been angry at his returning into his
own country. Availing himself of the occasion of this festival, the Moor
again sought permission to have his wife brought to him, and his face, his
demeanour, his pronunciation, and his strange mixture of Hunnish, Latin,
and Gothic words, excited such mirth and transports of joyousness, that
the shouts of laughter on all sides appeared undistinguishable.1
Attila alone preserved an unaltered visage ; he was grave and motion
less ; he neither said nor did anything indicating the slightest disposition
to participate in the merriment around him ; the only change that we ob
served in him was, that when his youngest son, named Irnach, was brought
in, he looked at him with eyes of affection and pleasure, and patted him on
the cheek. I was wondering why Attila paid so little attention to his other
children, and seemed only to care for this one, when a barbarian, who sat
next to me, and who spoke Latin, after having made me promise that I
would not repeat what he was about to say to me, told me that the
1 Is it not singular to find an harlequin at the court of Attila ? yet such
is the origin of these buffoons. The colour of the black slaves, the
strangeness of thtir face and manners, caused them to be sought after by
the barbarians as excellent ministers of mirth ; to complete the singularity,
Zercho asks his wife at the hands of Attila, closely paralleling harlequin
demanding columbine.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 431
diviners had predicted to Attila that all his race would perish except this
boy, who would once more restore it.
As the banquet seemed likely to be extended to a late hour of the
night, and as we did not wish to remain drinking any longer, we withdrew.
Next day we went to Onegeses, to tell him that we desired to be dismissed
not wishing to lose any more time ; he replied, that such also was the
intention of Attila, who had determined upon our departure. He then held
a council of the principal chiefs upon the subject of the resolution wliich
had been formed by Attila, and drew up the letter which we were to carrv
to the emperor. He had with him his corresponding secretaries, and
among them Rusticus, a native of Upper Mcesia, who, having been made
prisoner by the barbarians, had been raised to this post in consequence of
his talent for composition.
After the council, we entreated Onegeses to restore to liberty the wife
and children of Sylla, who had been reduced to slavery at the taking of
Ratiaria ; he was not indisposed to grant our request on our paying a con
siderable ransom. We earnestly supplicated him to be merciful, in consider
ation of their former condition, and of their present misery. At length, as
he was taking his leave, Onegeses granted us the liberty of the woman for
800 aurii, and made the emperor a present of that of his sons.
Meantime Recca, the wife of Attila, who superintended his domestic
affairs, had sent to invite us to supper.1 We accordingly proceeded to her
apartments, and found her surrounded by a great number of Scythian chiefs ;
she overwhelmed us with kindness, and gave us a magnificent banquet.
Each of the guests rose, presented to us a cupful of wine, and kissed us on
the forehead in taking it back, which among the Scythians is a mark of
great good will. After supper, we retired to our tents for the night.
Next day Attila invited us to another banquet : the same ceremonies were
observed as on the first occasion, and we diverted ourselves very much ; this
day it was not the eldest son of Attila who was seated on the same couch
with the chief, but his uncle Oebar, whom Attila regarded in the light of a
father. Throughout the banquet Attila conversed with us in the kindest manner ;
he ordered Maximin to induce the emperor to give to his secretary Con
stantius the wife he had promised him. This Constantius had gone to Con
stantinople with the deputies of Attila, and had offered his services in main
taining peace between the Romans and the Huns, in consideration of a rich
wife being given him ; the emperor had consented to this, and had promised
him the daughter of Saturnillus, a man of noble family and large fortune ;
but Athenais, or Eudoxia (the empress went by both these names), put
Saturnillus to death, and Zen, a consular personage, prevented the emperor
from fulfilling his promise. This Zen, at the head of a numerous body of
Isaurians, was at that time guarding the city of Constantinople, menaced by
war, and had, besides, the general command of the armies of the east ; he
withdrew the young girl from the prison in which she had been placed, and
gave her to one Rufus, a relative of his. Thus disappointed in his marriage,
1 The learned have warmly discussed the question whether this Recca
was the same with that wife of Attila of whom Priscus has already .spoken,
and whom he then named Creca.

432 HISTORY OF
Constantius had earnestly entreated Attila not to suffer the affront wliich
had been put upon him, to pass, 'but to insist upon a wife being given him ;
either the one just snatched from him, or some other woman o-ith a rich
dowry: accordingly, during supper, the barbarian desired Maximin to tell
the emperor that Constantius was not to he disappointed of his hopes, and
that it was contrary to the dignity of an emperor to be a liar ; Attila took
this interest in the matter because Constantius had promised him a large
sum of money in the event of his obtaining bv the barbarian's inflaence a rich
Roman wife.
On the approach of night we withdrew from the banquet.
Three days afterwards we were dismissed, after having received a present
each of us. Attila sent with us, as his ambassador, Berich, one of the lead
ing Scythian chiefs, lord of many villages in that country, and who, at the
banquet, had been placed on the same side of the table with us, and, indeed,
above us. Berich had before this been received as ambassador at Constan
tinople. On our way, as we were entering a certain village, the barbarians who
accompanied us part of the road, took prisoner a Scythian who was acting
as spy for the Romans. Attila ordered him to be crucified. Next day,
again, as we were passing through another village, there were brought to
us, their hands tied behind their backs, two slaves, who had killed those
fvhom the fortune of war had rendered masters of their life and death ; their
heads were fastened between two pieces of wood, and they were then cruci
fied. Berich, so long as we journeyed in Scythia, travelled with us, and treated
us with kindness ; but no sooner had we passed the Danube, than he became
an enemy, upon some miserable pretexts furnished by our servants. He
began by taking from Maximin the horse he had given him ; Attila had
required all the Scythian chiefs who accompanied him to make presents to
Maximin, and they had all offered him horses, Berich among the rest: but
Maximin, wishing to show his moderation, had refused most of these offers,
accepting only two or three horees. Berich now took the one he had given
him, and moreover, would no longer converse with us, nor even follow the
same route. Thus, this pledge of an' hospitality contracted in the country of
the barbarians themselves, was withdrawn. We proceeded to Adrianopolis
through Philippolis, and stopped for a while to repose ourselves ; while
there, we addressed Berich, who had also reached the city, and asked why
he so pertinaciously observed silence towards men who had given him no
offence. He was pacified by our words, accepted an invitation to supper,
and we departed the next day from Adrianopolis in oompany together.
On our way, we met Vigilius, who was returning to Scythia, and after
informing him of the manner in which Attila had received us, continued our
journey. On arriving at Constantinople, we thought that Berich had alto- '
gether forgotten his anger, but our kindness and courtesy had not overcome
his naturaUy fierce and vindictive disposition ; he accused Maximin of
having said that the generals Arepbindus and Aspar enjoyed no credit with
the emperor, and that since he had become acquainted with the frivolous
and unstable character of the barbarians, he had no faith whatever in theii
alleged exploits.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

433

IV.

Chronological Table of the Principal Events of the PoUtical
History of Gaul, from the Fifth to the Tenth Century.

A.D.
406—412411^13412—419418—430 451 476
481—511

27 Nov. 511
523—534
058—561 587
613—628628—714656— C87
687
715—741714—732 Oct. 732
1st Oct. 741
747
752

754
754, 755
750—759 VOL. II.

General invasion of the Germans into the empire of the
west, and especially into Gaul.
Establishment of the Burgundians in eastern Gaul.
Establishment of the Visigoths in southern Gaul.
Establishment of the Franks in Belgium and northern Gaul.
Invasion of Attila into Gaul. His defeat in the plains of
Chalons in Champagne.
Definitive fall of the empire of the west.
Reign of Clovis. Establishment of the kingdom of the
Franks. Their conquests in eastern, western, and south
ern Gaul.
Death of Clovis. Division of his domains and states between
his four sons.
Wars between the Franks and the Burgundians. Fall of the
kingdom of the latter.
Clotaire I., fourth son of Clovis, sole king of the Franks.
Treaty of Andelot, between Gontran, king of Burgundy, and
Childebert II., king of Metz.
Clotaire II., sod of Chilperic I., and of Fredegonde, sole king
of the Franks.
Progressive elevation of the family of the Pepins among the
Austrasian Franks.
Struggle between the Franks of Neustria and the Franks of
Austrasia.
Battle of Testry. Triumph of the Austrasian Franks.
Government of the Franks by Charles Martel.
Invasion and progress of the Arabs in southern and western
Gaul.
They are defeated near Tours, by Charles Martel.
Death of Charles Martel. Division of Gaul between his
sons, Pepin and Carloman.
Carloman enters a monastery. Pepin sole chief of the Franks.
Childeric III., last of the Merovingian kings, is deposed.
Pepin, surnamed Le Bref, is declared king of the Franks,
and crowned at Soissons by Winfried (Saint Boniface)
archbishop of Mayence.
Pope Stephen IL, who visits France, again crowns Pepin and
his family.
Pepin makes war in Italy against the Lombards. His
alliance with the popes.
The wars of Pepin in southern Gaul against the Saracens.
He makes himself master of Septimania.
F F

434

A.D.
745—768
Sept. 768

HISTORY OF
The wars of Pepin in tiie south-west of Gaul, against tho
Aquitani. He seizes upon Aquitaine.
Death of Pepin. Division of his states between his two sons,
Charles and Carloman.
Death of Carloman. Charlemagne sole king of the Franks.
Expedition of Charlemagne against the Aquitani.

Expeditions of Charlemagne against the Saxons.

771 769
772
774—776778—780782—785
794—796 797—798 802
804
773 — 774' Expeditions of Charlemagne ¦ against the Lombards.
776 He defeats their kings, and possesses himself of their states.
787 ) Expeditions of Charlemagne against the Lombards of Bene -
801 j vento.
778 \
796—797 801 l Expeditions of Charlemagne against the Arabs of Spain,
806; 807 [ Italy, Sardinia, &c.
809, 810
812 '
788, 789
791
796
805
812 Relations of Charlemagne with the emperors of the east.
24 Oct. 800 Charlemagne enters Rome.
25 Dee. 800 He is proclaimed emperor of the west.

Expeditions of Charlemagne against the Slaves and the Avares
in eastern Europe.

801 806
808—814
81 Jan. 814
816817

828—833
1 Oct. 833
2 Nov. 833
835838

Embassy of Haroun-al-Raschid to Charlemagne.
Charlemagne divides his states between his three sons,
Charles, Pepin, and Louis.
The Normans begin to ravage the coasts of Frankish-Gaul.
Death of Charlemagne.
Coronation of Louis le Debonnaire, at Reims, by Pope
Stephen IV.
Louis associates with himself his son Lothaire, and gives to
his two youngest sons, Pepin and Louis, the kingdoms of
Aquitaine and Bavaria.
Intrigues and revolts of the sons of Louis le Debonnaire
against their father.
The assembly of Compiegne meet to degrade Louis.
Public penance and degradation of Louis at Soissons.
The assembly of Thionville annuls the acts of that of Com
piegne.
The assembly of Kiersy-sur-Oise, when Louis deprives his
eldest sons, Lothaire and Louis, in favour of the youngest,
Charles le Chauve.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

435

A.D.
30 May, 839

20 June, 840
840—843
29 June, 841
843
862—877
25 Dec. 875
877
6 Oct. 877
836—877 977—879
10April,879 879—882
5 Aug. 882
882—884
6 Dec. 884

12 Jan. 888
887—898877—888
28 Jan. 893
1 Jan. 898
893—929 911

922
15 June,923 923
923—929

7 Oct. 929
15 Jan. 936
936—954

10 Sept. 954
954—986
2 Mar. 986

Louis le Debonnaire is reconciled with his son Lothaire.
New division of the empire between Lothaire and Charles
le Chauve.
Death of Louis le Debonnaire.
War between the sons of Louis le Debonnaire.
Battle of Fontenay.
Treaty of Verdun. Definitive division of the empire.
Charles le Chauve reunites successively a great part of the
states of Charlemagne.
He is crowned emperor at Rome<
He acknowledges in the assembly of Kiersy-sur Oise, the
right to the hereditary possession of fees and royal offices.
Death of Charles le Chauve.
Continued and augmenting invasions of the Saracens, and
of the Normans, in Frankish Gaul.
Reign of Louis le Begue, son of Charles le Chauve.
Death of Louis le Begue.
Reigns of Louis III. and Carloman, sons of Louis le Begue.
Death of Louis III.
Reign of Carloman.
Death of Carloman.
Reign of Charles le Gros.
The Normans besiege Paris during one year.
Death of Charles le Gros.
Reign of Eudes, count of Paris, son of Robert le Fort, elected
king during the life of Charles.
Formation of a number of independent lordships.
Coronation of Charles le Simple, son of Louis le Begue.
Death of king Eudes.
Reign of Charles le Simple.
By the treaty' of Clair-sur-Esste, he gives to Rollo, a Norman
chief, that part of Neustria which has since taken the name
of Normandy.
Robert, duke of France, brother to king Eudes, is elected
king.
He is killed near Soissons in a battle with Charles le Simple.
Raoul, or Rodolph, duke of Burgundy, is elected king of
France.
Captivity of Charles le Simple in the hands of Herbert,
count of Vermandois. He is set at liberty for a time, but
soon imprisoned again.
Death of Charles le Simple.
Death of king Raoul.
Reign of Louis IV., surnamed d'Outre-Mer, son of Charles le
Simple. He is sometimes friendly, sometimes hostile;
on one hand with the emperor Otho I., master of
eastern France, on the other with the independent lords
of central and western France.
Death of Louis d'Outre Mer.
Reign of Lothaire, son of Louis. His wars with Otho II.
Death of Lothaire.
FF 2

436 HISTORY OF
A.D.
986,987 Reign of Louis V.. son of Lothaire.
21 May, 987 Death of Louis V.
3 July, 987 Hugh Capet, count of Paris, is crowned king of France, at
Reims.

Chronological Table of the Principal Events of the Religious '
History of Gaul, from the Fifth to the Tenth Century.
A.D.
11 Nov. 400 Death of St. Martin, archbishop of Tours.
400—407 Writings of Vigilantius, priest, against the relics of the
martyrs, and some other practices of the church. Answered
by St. Jerome.
400—420 Foundation of monasteries in southern Gaul ; amongst others,
those of St. Victor, at Marseilles, and of Lerens.
418 St. Germain, bishop of Auxerre.
420 The Burgundians embrace arianism.
423 Birth of semi-Pelagianism in southern Gaul. St. Augustin
combats it.
428 St. Loup, bishop of Troyes.
429 A numerous council. Place uncertain.1
— St. Hilary, bishop of Aries.
441 Council of Orange.
450 Contest between the bishops of Aries and Vienna, upon the
extent of their metropolitan jurisdiction.
452 Council of Aries.
455 Council of Aries.
462 Faust, bishop of Riez; his discussion with Claudienus
Mamertius, upon the nature of the soul ; he is accused of
semi-Pelagianism ; he writes against the predestinarians.
470 Institution of the Rogations by St. Mamertius, bishop of
Vienne.
472 St. Sidonius Apollinaris, bishop of Clermont.
475 Council of Aries.
490 St. Avitus, bishop of Vienne.
496 Clovis embraces Christianity.
499 Conference held at Lyons, in the presence of Gondebaud,
king of Burgundy, between the Catholic andArian bishops.
501 St. Cesaire, bishop of Aries.
506 Council of Agde.
510 Sigismond, a Burgundian prince, abandons Arianism-
1 I only indicate in this table the principal councils, without mentioning
their object. The seventh table is especially devoted to the history of the
councils and canonical lepislation of Gaul at this period.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 437
A.D.
fill Council of Orleans.
" 617 Council of Epaone, in the diocese of Vienne.
529 Council of Orange.
— - Council of Vaison.
533 Council of Oileans.
538 Council of Orleans.
541 Council of Orleans.
543 Introduction of the rule of St. Benedict into Gaul. Reform
and progress of monasteries. Monastic life receives the
name of religio. '
549 Council of Orleans.
554 Council of Aries.
555 St. Germain, bishop of Paris
557 Council of Paris.
573 St. Gregory, bishop of Tours
— St. Senoch, and several other hermits, render themselves
celebrated by their austerities.
576 Childebert II., king of Austrasia, obliges the Jews to receive
baptism.
578 Council of Auxerre.
585 Council of Macon.
— Arrival of St. Colomban in Gaul.
590 He founds the monastery of Luxeuil.
690 — 600 Disorder in the monasteries. Impostors overrun Gaul, and
give themselves out to be Christ.
600 — 650 Progressive incorporation of the monks into the clergy.
615 Council of Paris.
— Clotaire II. allows to the people and clergy the right of elect
ing bishops, reserving to himself the confirmation of their
choice.
625 Council of Reims.
626 St. Amand, a missionary bishop, labours at the conversion of
the infidels in Belgium.
628 Dagobert I. obliges the Jews to receive baptism.
— Foundation of the abbey of St. Denis.
638 Council of Paris.
639 St. ElOy, bishop of Noyon.
639 St. Ouen, bishop of Rouen.
640 — 660 Foundation of numerous monasteries.
650 Council of Chalons.
"6-58 Saint Leger, bishop of Autun.
— Progress of the temporal power of the bishops.
670 — 700 Preaching of Anglo-Saxon and other monks, sustained by the
mayors of the palace of Austrasia, amongst the people beyond
the Rhine, such as the Saxons, the Frisons, the Danes, &c.
— Tyranny of the bishops over the monasteries — Charters ob
tained by the monasteries — Protection afforded them by
the kings and popes.
715 — 755 Preaching and institutions of Saint Boniface in Germany —
Foundation of the bishoprics of Salzburg, Freysingcn,
Ratisbon, Wurtzburg, Passau, Eichstasdt, &c.
720 — 741 Charles Martel seizes a part of the domains of the clergy.

438

HISTORY OF

739—752 743
751—800 752755

7GI
761—763

767709

772 774

780 785
786
790—794

730—799 798809
813
816 817
820—877823—824 826
About 830
831—865 83383,183U

Relations of the popes with Charles Martel and Pepin le Bref.
Council of Leptines.
Progress of the papacy by means of its alliance with Pepin
and Charlemagne.
Council of Wermerie.
Council of Verneuil.
Pepin le Bref gives to the church of Rome the dominions
taken from the Lombards.
Recommenoement of the dispute upon dogmatical questions —
reform of the church by the civil power.
Establishment and rule of the canons hy Chrodegand bishop
of Metz.
Council of Gentilly.
Charlemagne interdicts the abuse of the right of asylum in
the churches.
Pope Adrian I. gives a collection of canons to Charlemagne.
Charlemagne extends Pepin's donation to the church of
Rome.
Benedict d' Aniane undertakes the reform of monastic life.
Theodulf, bishop of Orleans.
Especial bishops established in certain monasteries.
Condemnation of the worshipping of images by the Gallo-
Frankish church — Caroline works composed on this subject
by Alcuin, and sent to the pope by the order of Charlemagne.
Heresy of the adoptians— Opposed by Alcuin, and condemned
by the Gallo-Frankish church.
Leidrade, archbishop of Lyons.
The Gallo-Frankish church adopts the doctrine, that the
Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son.
Five councils held the same year labour at the reform of
ecclesiastical discipline.
Rules of canons and canonesses adopted at the council of
Aix-la-Chapelle — Louis le Debonnaire gives the force of
law to the treatise of ecclesiastical offices by Amalaire,
priest of Metz.
Reform of the monasteries ordered by a council of abbots and
monks held at Aix-la-Chapelle.
Progress of the independence and temporal power of the
bishops— Decline of royalty.
Proofs of the right of the emperor of the west to interfere in
the election of the popes.
Harold and his wife, Danish princes, with their suite, are
baptised in the palace of Louis le Debonnaire.
Ideas and attempts of Agobard, archbishop of Lyons, after the
example of Claude, bishop of Turin, to reform the abuses
of the church, particularly the worship of relics and the
adoration of images.
The writings of Paschase-Radbert give rise to a controversy
upon transubstantiation and the immaculate conception.
Council of Compiegne.
Council of Thionville.
Council of Aix-la-Chapelle.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

439

A.D.
840—877

About 843
844
84"5"-882847—861849—869852—875 853
853—866856—869 858
862—866869—878 876

887909910
912
926—942

943 991993

Towards the
end of the
century.

Progress of the papal power at the expense, 1st, of the power
of temporal sovereigns ; 2nd, of the power of the bishops
and the national churches — Relations of Nicholas I. with
the government of the Gallo-Frankish church.
Appearance of the False Decretals.
Council of Thionville.
Hincmar, archbishop of Reims.
Saint Prudentius, archbishop of Troyes.
Controversy upon predestination and grace — Contest between
Gottschalk and Hincmar.
Saint Remy, archbishop of Lyons.
Council of Soissons.
Affair of Wulfad and the other priest ordained by Ebbo,
archbishop of Reims.
Affair of the divorce of Lothair and Teutberge.
Letters of counsel and reproach from the bishop of Gaul to
Louis le Germanique.
Affair of Rhotade, bishop of Soissons.
Affair of Hincmar, bishop of Laon.
Ansegise, archbishop of Sens, is instituted primate of Gaul
and Germany by pope John VIII.
Council of Pontion.
Council of Mayence.
Council of Trosley.
Foundation of the abbey of Cluny by William the Pious, duke
of Aquitaine.
Rollo and a great number of Normans embrace Christianity.
Saint Odo, bishop of Cluny, reforms his monastery and several
others, which being authorised by the pope, unite in one
congregation— First example of common government in a
monastic order.
Struggle between the Christian Normans and the Normans
that remained pagans.
Gerbert, archbishop of Reims,' pope in 999.
Canonization of Ulrich, bishop of Augsburg, by Pope John
XV. — First example of papal canonization- — The bishops
continue to declare saints in their diocese.
Odillo, abbot of Cluny, institutes the feast of All Souls.
Institution of the office of the Virgin.
Progress of simony, disorder in the manners of the clergy,
and superstitions of all kinds amongst the people — Infinite
number of saints and relics — Extension of penances and
absolutions.
The popes declare themselves more and more the adversaries
of the disorder in the d~arch, and attempt to put a stop
to it.
Private individuals rise against abuses and superstitions,
amongst others, Leutard, in the environs of Chalons-sur-
Saone.
The monasteries labour to escape from the jurisdiction of the
bishops.

440

HISTORY OP

VI.

' Chronological Table of the principal Events of the Literary
History of Gaul, from the Fifth to the Tenth Century.
Ji'fth fflsnturn.

Name.

Date.

Condition in Life.

Works.

Rutilius Numa-
tianus, of Tou
louse, or Poic
tiers.
Sulpicius Seve-
rus, of Aqui
taine.

Evagrius.

Saint Paulin, of
Bordeaux.

Cassienus, (John) of
Provence.

Palladius, of
Poictiers.
Saint Prosper,
of Aquitaine.

Mamertius
Claudienus, of
Vienne.

Died after 418.

Died after 420.

Beginning of the
5th century.

854—431.

350—433

Beginning of the
5th century.
Died towards
463.

Civil magistrate.
Ecclesiastic. Idem.
Bishop of Nola.
Bishop of Nola.
Jurisconsult. Ecclesiastic.

Died about 474.

Idem.

;

A poem, entitled, Itinera-
rium; or, De Reditu,
from Rome to Gaul.
1. The Life of St. Martin
of Tours ; 2. A Sacred
History, from the Crea
tion to 400; 3. Dialogues
on the Monks of the
East, and a Life of St.
Martin.
1. Controversy between
Theophilus, a Christian,
and Simon, a Jew; 2.
Dialogue between Za-
cheus, a Christian, and
Apollonius, aphilosopher.
1. Letters ; 2. Short
poems ; 3. a sermon
upon charity; 4. Seve
ral lost works.
1. A treatise on monastic
institutions ; 2. Con
ferences on monastic
life ; 3. Several works
on theology.
A poem upon agriculture.
1. A poem upon the
question of predestina
tion and grace, entitled,
Of Ingrates ; 2. A
chronicle from the crea
tion of the world until
455 ; 3. Several theo
logical writings and
letters.
1. A treatise upon the
nature of the soul; 2.
hymn upon the passion,
pangelingua; 3. Letters.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

441

Name.

Date.

Condition in Life.

Works.

Salvienus, of
the north of
Gaul.

Sidonius Apol-
linaris, bprn at
Lyons.
Faust, of Breton
origin.

Gennade, of
Provence.

Pomerius, of
African origin,
resided at Aries.

Saint Ernodius,
of Aries.

Saint Avitus
(Alcimus Ecdi
cius) of Au-
vergne.
Saint Cesaire, of
Chalons- sur-
Saone.
Saint Cyprien,
of Aries.
Saint Gregory,
of Auvergne.

Died about the
end of the
5th century.
430—488.

Died towards
the end of the
5th century.
Died at the end
of the
5th century.
End of the
5th century.

Ecclesiastic.

Bishop of Cler
mont.

Idem.

Idem.

Idem.

Sixth ffientutn.
473—521. | Bishop of Paris,

Died in 525.

470—542.

Died about 546.
544—595.

Bishop of
Vienne.

Bishop of
Aries.
Bishop of
Toulon.
Bishop of
Tours.

1. A treatise upon ava
rice ; 2. A treatise on
the government of God,
or Providence ; 3. Let
ters ; 4. Lost writings.
1. Nine books of letters ;
2. Poetry; 3. Lost
writings.
1. A treatise upon grace ;
2. Letters, wherein he
treats of several philo
sophical and theological
questions ; 3. Sermons.
1. A treatise, or catalogue
of illustrious men, or
ecclesiastical authors ;
2. A treatise on eccle
siastical doctrines.
1. A treatise on con
templative life ; 2. A
treatise on the nature of
the soul ; lost.

1. Panegyric of Theo
doric, king of the Ostro
goths ; 2. Life of Saint
Epiphonius, bishop of
Paris ; 3. Letters ; 4.
Poems ; 5. Theological
writings.
1. Two religious poems ;
2. Letters ; 3. Lost Ser
mons ; 4. Lost Poems.
1. Sermons ; 2. A treatise
upon grace and free will ;
lost.
Life of Saint Cesaire.
1. An ecclesiastical his
tory of the Franks ; 2.
On the glory of mar
tyrs ; 3. On the glory
of confessors ; 4. Lives
of the fathers ; 5. The
miracles of Saint Mar
tin ; 6. Several theo
logical writings ; lost.

442

HISTORY OF

Name.

Date.

Condition in Life.

Works. i

Marius,

532—596.

Bishop of

A chronicle extending

of Autun.

Avenche.

from 455 to the year 581.

Joseph of

Towards the end

A Jew.

A history of the Jews, in

Touraine.

of the 5th

Hebrew

century.

«
Stbtnti) ffisntirn.
Saint Fortuna
530, Beginning
Bishop of
1. Sacred and profane
tus, of Ceneda,
of the 7th
Poictiers.
poems; 2. Lives of the
in Italy.
century.
saints.
Saint Colomban,
Died in 615.
Abbot of
1. Poems ; 2. Homilies ;
of Irish origin.
Luxeuil.
3. Letters ; 4. Short
theological writings.
Marculf.
Towards the
A monk.
Collection of formula, or
middle of the
models of public and
7th century.
private acts.
Fredegaire, of
Towards the
A monk.
A chronicle from the
Burgundy.
middle of the
creation until the year
7th century.
641.
Jonas, of Italian
Idem.
Abbot of Saint
The life of Saint Colom
origin.
Amand.
ban.
Saint Ouen, of
609—683.
Archbishop of
The life of Saint Eloy.
Sanci, near
Rouen.
Soissons.
ISigM
ffitnturp.
.An anonymous
Beginning of the
Les Gestes des Francs, a
historian.
8th century.
.chronicle extending to
the year 584.
Saint Boniface,
680—755.
Archbishop of
1. Letters ; 2. Sermons ;
(Winfried,)
Mayence.
3. Theological writings ;
Anglo-Saxon.
lost.
Ambroise Aut-
Died in 778.
Abbot of Saint
1. A Commentary upon
bert, probably
Vincent near
the Apocalypse ; 2. Ser
of Aquitaine.
Benevento.
mons ; 3. A treatise on
combating vice.
An anonymous
Towards the
...
The Life of Dagobert I.
historian.
end of the
8th century.
Turpin.
Died in 800.
Archbishop of
It is to him that has been
Reims.
attributed the fabulous
chronicle entitled, His
toire de la Vie de Charle
magne et de Roland.
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

443

JiinrI) eCtnturo.

Name.

Date.

jonditioninLife.

Works.

Alcuin in Eng

735—804.

Abbot of Saint

1. Commentaries upon

land, Yorkshire.

Martin of Tours.

the Scriptures ; 2. Phi
losophical and literary
writings ; 3. Poems ;
4. Letters.

Anonymous.

Beginning of

Annales de l'Histoire des

9th century.

Francs.
Angilbert in
Died in 814.
Counsellor of
1 . Poems ; 2, A relation
Neustria.
Charlemagne,
of what he had done for
abbot of St.
his monastery.
Regnier.
Leidrade, origi
Died towards
Archbishop of
1. Letters ; 2. Theolo
nally from No
816.
Lyons.
gical writings.
rica. Smaragde.
Died about 820.
Abbot of St.
1 Moral treatise ; 2.
Mihiel.
Commentaries on the
New Testament ; 3. A
Grammar.
Saint Benedict,
751—821.
Abbot of Aniane
1. The Code of Monas
of Aniane, in
and hide.
tic Rules ; 2. The Con
Septimania.
cordance of the rules;
3. Writings on Theo
logy.
Theodulf, an
Died in 821.
Bishop of Or
1. Instruction schools,
Italian Goth.
leans.
2. Theological writings,
3. Poems.
Adalhard, horn
753—826.
Counsellor to
1. Statutes for the abbey
in Austrasia.
Charlemagne,
of Corbie ; 2. Letters ;
abbotof Corbie.
3. A treatise De Ordine
Palatii, reproduced by
Hincmar.
Dungal, of Irish
Died about 834.
A hermit, near St.
1. A letter to Charle
origin.
Denis.
magne on the pretended
eclipses of the sun in
the year 810; 2. A
treatise in favour of the
worship of images ; 3.
Poems.
Halitgah-e.
Died in 831.
Bishop of Cam
1. A penitential ; 2. A
bray.
treatise on the lives and
duties of priests.
Ausegise of
Burgundy.
Died in 833.
Counsellor to
The first collection of the
Charlemagne,
capitularies of Charle
abbot of Fon
magne and Louis Le
tenelle.
Debonnaire, in four
books.
444

HISTORY OF

Name.

Date.

Condition inLife.

Works.

Friedgies, an

Died in 834.

Abbot of Saint

1. A philosophical trea

Anglo-Saxon

Martin of

tise on Chaos and Dark

by birth.

Tours.

ness ; 2. Poems.

Ermold le Noir,

Died towards the

Abbot of

A poem on the life and

from Septima-

middle of the

Aniane.

actions of Louis le De

nia.

9th century.

bonnaire.

Amalaire, in

Died in 837.'

A priest at

1. The rule-of the Canon-

Austrasia.

Metz.
esses ; 2. A treatise on
the ecclesiastical offices ;
3. Letters.
Eginhard in
Died in 839.
Counsellor to
1. The Ufe of Charle
Austrasia.
Charlemagoe,
magne ; 2. Annals ;
abbot of Seli-
3. Letters.
genstodt.
Agobard, ori
779—840.
Archbishop of
1. Theological writings;
ginally of Spain.
Lyons.
2. Letters ; 3. Poems.
Hilduin.
Died about 840.
Abbot of Saint
The Areopagites destined
Denis.
to prove that Denys the
Areopagite is the same
as St. Denis, first bishop
of Paris.
Dodane.
Died in the mid
Duchess of Sep
A manual containing
dle of the 9th
timania.
counsels to her sons.
century.
Jonas in Aqui
Died in 842.
Bishop of Or
1. A treatise on the institu
taine.
leans.
tion of laymen; 2. On the
institution of the king ;
3. On Images.
Saint Ardon.
Died in 843.
A monk at
The life of St. Benedict
Smaragde, in
Aniane.
d'Aniane.
Septimania.
Benedict in
Towards the
Deacon at
A collection of the capitu
Belgium.
middle of the
Mayence.
laries of the kings of the
9th century.
Francs, in three books,
added to the four books
collected by Angesise.
Thegan, in Aus
Died in 846.
Chorepiscopus
The life of Louis le De
trasia.
of Treves.
bonnaire.
An anonymous
In the first half
... ...
The life of Louis le De
writer called
of the ninth
bonnaire.
the Astronomer.
century.
Walfried Strabo,
807—849.
Abbot of
1. A commentary on the
in Germany.
Reichenau.
whole of the Bible ; 2.
The life of Saint Gall ;
3. Theological writings;
4.Poems; amongst others
a descriptive poem, enti
tled Hortulus.
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

445

1 Name.

Date.

Condition in Life.

Works.

Freculf.

Died in 850.

Bishop of

An universal history from

Lisieux.

• the creation of the world
until the end of the sixth
century.

Angelome, in

Died about 855.

A monk at

Commentaries upon se

Burgundy.

Luxeuil.

veral parts of the Bible.

Raban-Maur, in

776—856.

Archbishop of

Fifty-one works on theo

Austrasia.

Mayence.
logy, philosophy, philo
logy, chronology; Let
ters, &c.
Nithard, in Aus
Died in 859.
Duke of Mari
The history of the dissen
trasia.
time France,
sions of the sons of Louis
monk at Saint
le Debonnaire.
Riquier
Florus, in Bur
Died about 860.
A priest at
1. Theological writings,
gundy.
Lyons.
amongst others, a re
futation of the treatise
on predestination, by
John Scotus ; 2. Poems ;
amongst others, a com
plaint on the division of
the empire after Louis
le Debonnaire.
Saint Praden-
Died about 861.
Bishop of
Theological writings ;
tius, in Spain.
Troyes.
amongst others, on pre
destination, and against
John Scotus.
Loup (Servat),
Died about 862.
Abbot of Fer
1. Theological writings ;
in Burgundy.
rieres in Gati-
amongst others, on pre
nais.
destination ; 2. Letters ;
3. A history of the em
perors ; lost.
Radbert (Pas-
Died in 865.
Abbot of Corbie.
1. Theological writings ;
chase), in the
amongst others, a trea
diocese of Sois
tise on the Eucharist ; 2.
sons.
The life of Wala, abbot
of Corbie.
Ratramne.
Died in 868.
Monk at Corbie.
Theological writings ;
amongst others, on tran
substantiation and pre
destination.
Gottschalk, of
Died in 869.
Monk at Orbais.
Writings on predestina
Saxon origin.
tion.
Otfried.
Died about 870.
Monk at
A paraphrased translation
Weissemburg.
of the Gospel, in Ger
man rhymed verse.
446

HISTORY OF

Name.

Date.

Condition in Life.

Worits.

Milon.

Died in 872.

Monk at Saint

Poems ; amongst others,

Amand.

a poem on sobriety, de
dicated to Charles le
Chauve ; and a pastoral '
entitled, The Combat of
Winter and Spring.

Jean, called the

Died between

Layman.

Several philosophical

Scot, or Eri

872 and 877.

works : 1. On divine pre

gena, in Ire

destination ; 2. On the
land.
division of nature; 3.
The translation of the
pretended writings of
Dionysius the Areopa
gite.
Usnai-d.
About the mid
Monk at Saint
A great martyrology.
dle of the ninth
Germain des Pres
century.
Saint Remy.
Died in 875.
Archbishop of
Theological works ;
Lyons.
amongst others, on pre
destination and free will.
Saint Adon, in
800—875.
Archbishop of
1. Theological writings ;
the diocese of
Vienne.
2. A universal chronicle.
' Sens.
Isaac.
Died in 880.
Bishop of
An extensive collection
Langres.
of canons.
Henrie.atHery,
834—881.
Monk at St.Ger-
The life of St. Germaine
near Auxerre.
main d'Auxerre.
d'Auxerre, in verse, in
six books.
Hincmar.
Died in 882.
Archbishop of
1. Theological writings ;
Reims.
amongst others, on pre
destination ; 2. Political
writings and counsels ;
3. Letters.
Anonymous.
The annals of St. Bertin,
by several writers, in
part by St. Prudence,
bishop of Troyes, and
perhaps by Hincmar.
A monk of Saint
The end of the
... ...
Des faits et gestes de
Gall, Anony
ninth century.
Charlemagne.
mous.
Sent
Ij ©ttUuro.
Remy, in Bur
Died about 908.
MonkatSt.Ger-
1. Commentaries on the
gundy.
main d'Auxerre.
Bible; 2. Theological
works ; 3. Commentaries
on the ancient gramma
rians and rhetoricians.
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

447

Name.

Date.

Condition in Life.

Works.

Reginon.

Died in 915.

Abbot of Priim.

1. A chronology from the
birth of Jesus Christ
until the year 906 ; 2.
A collection of canonical
rules.

Abhon.

Died about g24.

Monk at Saint

A poem on the siege of

GermoindesPres.

Paris by the Normans
in 885.

Hucbold, in

840—930.

Monk at Saint

1. Poems ; among others,

Flanders.

Am and.

a poem in honour of the
Bald,dedicated toCharles
le Chauve, in which all
the words begin with c ;
2. Lives of the saints.

Saint Odon, in

879—942.

Abbot of Cluny.

1. Theological writings ;

le Maine.

2.The lives of the saints,
especially that of Saint
Gregory of Tours ; 3.
Poems.
John, of Italian
About the mid
Monk.
The life of Saint Odon,
origin.
die of the tenth
century.
abbot of Cluny.
Frodoard, at
894—966.
Canon at Reims.
1. Poems ; 2. The history '
Epernay.
of the church of Reims;
3. A chronicle from 919
to 966.
Helperic.
About the end
Schoolmaster of
A treatise on computation
of the tenth
Grand Fel.
or supputation of time
century.
as regards the ecclesias
tical calendar.
John.
id.
Abbot of Saint
Several lives of the saints;
ArnouldatMetz.
amongst others, that of
John de Verdiere, abbot
of Gorze, and the rela
tion of his embassy in
Spain to Abderrahman,
caliph of Cordova.
Adson,inTrans-
Died in 992.
Abbot of Mon-
1. A treatise on the Anti
juian Burgundy.
tier en Der.
christ, celebrated in the
middle ages; 2. The
lives of the saints.
Arnoult.
End of the tenth
Bishop of
Letters entitled de Carti-
century.
Orleans.
lagine (on the C artilage),
remarkable as an essay
at anatomical studies.
They are inedited
Gerbert, at
Died in 1003.
Pope, under the
l.Works on mathematics;
Aurillac.
name of Sil
2. On philosophy ; 3. On
vester II.
theology 4. Poems; 5.
Letters.
148

HISTORY OP

VII.
Chronological Table of the Councils and Canonical Legislation
of Gaul, from the Fourth to the Tenth Century.1

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

314

Aries.

346

353

356

33 bishops,
14 priests,
25 deacons,
8 clerks.

Cologne.

Aries

Beziers.

14Bishops, 10 envoys
fromBishops.

This council was convoked by Constantine,
to pronounce on the subject of the Donatists;
and of Cecilian, bishop of Carthage.
Rules. — That each priest reside in the
place in which he was ordained. »
That the faithful who become governors of
provinces receive letters of communion, in
order that the bishop of the place they in
habit may be able to watch, and excommuni
cate them, if they act contrary to the dis
cipline. That the priests and deacons who quit the
places assigned to them, shall be deposed.
The council orders that Easter should be
celebrated everywhere the same day; excom
municates those who carry arms in time of
peace, usurious clerks, and calumniators ;
forbids deacons to celebrate the office ; orders
that absolution shall be received in the same
place where excommunication was pro
nounced ; forbids bishops to encroach reci
procally on their rights, and interdicts to the
deacons of towns the power of doing any
thing without the consent of the priests.
Euphratus, bishop of Cologne, having denied
the divinity of Jesus Christ, the faithful and
clergy of Cologne denounce him as a heretic,
and he is condemned and deponed.
This council, at which the emperor Con
stantius assisted, and the Arians prevailed, de
posed Paul, bishop of Treves, who would
not sign the condemnation of Saint Athana-

This council, convoked by SaturniD, bishop
of Aries, and which decided nothing, ba
nished Saint Hilary, bishop of Poictiers, to
Phrygia.

1 It will be at once seen that in this abstract I have only inserted the most
important of the canous.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

44:;-

i Date. ] Place. | Present. ' Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

359 i In Gaul.

360

374

Palis.

Valence.

21 bishops,

Date
uncer tain. 385

386

395

Nimes.

Bordeaux.

Treves.1

Turin

I i

This council condemned the Arian formula ¦
adopted at Sirmium.
This council condemned the Arian formula
of Rimini ; communicated this resolution to
the bishops of the east, and excommunicated
Saturnin, bishop of Aries.
Rules. — It is forbidden to confess a crime,
whether time or false, in order to escape from
holy orders. The council forbids the ordain
ing those who have been twice married, or
who have married a widow. It excommuni
cates virgins consecrated to God if they
marry ; and those who, after their baptism,
sacrifice to demons, or make use of pagan
purifications. '

This council was held at the request of
•Ithace against the Priseillianists. Instantius
was deprived of his bishopric; Priscillian
appealed to the emperor, who put him to death.
This council declared Ithace absolved from
the death of the Priseillianists. Saint Martin
there communicated with him, for which he
never forgave himself.
This council treated only of affairs of dis
cipline, and the pretensions to primacy of
the bishops of Marseilles, as well as the
rivality of the bishops of Vienne and Aries.
Rules. — , That no bishop shall receive a
clerk of another bishop and ordain him for
himself. That no one who has been re
jected shall be admitted to the communion.
That those who have had children after
their ordination, shall be excluded from the
major orders.

i We have, as usual, preferred the date of Sirmond to that of Labbe, because
the events of these two councils clearly prove, that that of Bordeaux must hftve
taken place before that of Treves. I can only conclude that Sulpicius Severun
deceived himself, when he said that after the year 384 St. Martin was present tu
Bo council ; or, which is very possible, it is an error of the copyist.
VOL. II. G G

450

HISTORY OF

JF fffl) Ctntuco.

I Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

429

439

In Gaul.
Place un
certain.

Riez.

13 bishops,
1 bishop's
envoy.

441

Orange.

16 bishops,
1 priest for
a bishop.

This numerous council assembled in compli
ance with the wishes of the Bretons, who
demanded from the bishops of Gaul succour
against the heresy of Pelagius ; the council
sent them Saint Germain and Saint Loup.
This council was held on the subject of the
bishop of Embrun, who had been consecrated
by two bishops only. Several canons of
discipline were made at it.
Rules. — That if two bishops only shall
ordain a bishop, they shall, for the future,
be excluded from all ordinations and coun
cils. That when a bishop dies, the nearest bishop
shall take charge of his diocese.
That no person shall interfere with the
consecration of a bishop without having
been invited to do so by the metropolitan.
That it be permitted to country priests to
give the blessing, to consecrate virgins, to
confirm neophytes, and that they conduct
themselves as superiors to the priests, and
inferiors to the bishops.1
That a council be held twice a year.
This council was engaged only on affairs
of discipline.
Rules. — Thatno one shall reduce to servitude
those who belong to the church.
That one council shall not be dissolved
without indicating another, the rigour of the
weather preventing the holding two councils
a year.
That the functions of an infirm bishop
shall be fulfilled by another bishop, and not
by priests.
The council forbids repeating confirmation,
delivering up those who take refuge in a
church; forbids a bishop to communicate
with him who has excommunicated another
bishop, or to ordain deaconesses ; orders
that some of the graces of the church be

1 This passage proves that chorepiscopi, or rural bishops, are meant ; a olasi
superior to priests, hut inferior to the bishops.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

451

Date, i

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

442

444

Vaison.

Vienne.

About 452

Aries.2

44 bishops.

granted to idiots, and that catechumens shall
be present at the reading of the Gospel.
This council was occupied with affairs of
discipline. Rules. — That those who retain the offer
ings of the dead shall be excommunicated.
If a bishop does not acquiesce in his sen
tence, he can appeal to a synod.1
This council was presided over by Saint
Hilary. Chelidonius, bishop of Besanjon,
was deposed for having married a widow.
Rules. — That the priests shall receive the
holy Chrism every year, at Easter, from the
nearest bishop, and not at their own mere
discretion. This council was held against the Nova-
tians, the Photinians, or Paulinists, the
Bonosians, the Arians, the Eutychians. Se
veral canons of discipline were made at it.
The council also was engaged with the lapsi,
that is to say, those who had given way
during the persecution.
Rules. — That no one shall be consecrated
bishop without a letter from the metropolitan,
or from three provincial bishops.
That in a contested election the metropo
litan must vote with the majority.
The ordination of a clerk out of his
diocese, and without the approbation of his
bishop, is null.
A bishop who does not come to the coun
cil, or who quits it before the end, is excom
municated. A bishop is guilty of sacrilege who neglects
to extirpate the custom of adoring fountains,
trees, and stones.
When there arepriestspresent,deaconsmust
not administer the body of Jesus Christ.
Actors shall be excommunicated.
That penance shall not be given to mar
ried people without their mutual consent.
C. d'O. The causes of clerks must, under

' The judgments of the metropolitan are doubtless here referred to.
' We find among the canons of the council of Aries, twenty which belong, as
it would appear, to that of Orange ; they are distinguished by the titles C. d'O.
G G2

452

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

About 453

Angers.

8 bishops

455

Aries.

1 3 bishops.

pain of excommunication, be brought before
the bishop.
C. d'O. If a bishop builds a church in the
diocese of another bishop, which cannot be
prevented without a crime, he must not thiak
he has therefore the right of dedicating it ;
that is reserved for the bishop in whose diocese
it stands ; but he will have the privilege of
placing what clerks he pleases therein.
To avoid simony in the election of bishops,
the bishops shall name three persons, among
whom the clergy and the people shall
choose. The council forbids the clerks to practise
usHry, to charge themselves with the conduct
of other peoples' affairs, to have in their
house, after they have passed the deaconship,
other women than their grandmother, their
mother, their daughter, their niece, or their
wife, converted like themselves.
The canons of the council of Orange give
to priests the power of confirming a dying
heretic, grant penance to the clerks, permit
them to absolve dying persons without
penance, on condition of their performing
penance if they recover.
They grant baptism to demoniacs, and those
who have suddenly lost the use of speech,
and excommunicate any person who, having
lost his serfs, owing to their having taken
refuge in a church, shall possess himself of
the serfs of that church.

Tliis council was held on the occasion of
the consecration of Talasius, bishop of An
gers. Rules. — That those who renounce the
priesthood for the army shall be excommu
nicated. That monks who wander about without
letters of leave shall be excommunicated.
That a bishop shall not advance the clerk
of another bishop.
This council assembled to terminate the
quarrel existing between so ;eral bishops and
Faust, abbot of Lerens.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

453

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

461

Tours.

About 465

Vannes.

475

About 475

506

Aries.

Lyons ,

Agde

8 bishops,
1 bishops'
envoy.

6 bishops.

30 bishops.

This council was composed of bishops
assembled for the feast of St. Martins Several
canons of discipline were made.
Rules. — That a clerk shall not travel with
out letters from Ms bishop.
That a clerk who has permission to marry,
shall not marry a widow.
If a clerk is guilty of drunkenness, he
must be punished according to his order.
This council was composed of bishops
assembled for the purpose of the consecra
tion of the bishop of Vannes. It discussed
points of discipline.
Rules. — That without the permission of
his abbot, a monk shall not ask for a private
cell. That each abbot shall have but one monas
tery. That, under pain of excommunication, no
clerk shall practise divination by Saints' names,
or the Holy Scriptures.
The council forbids clerks to be present at
Jewish wedding-feasts or entertainments ;
orders all who are in town to attend at
matins ; and prescribes tor all the province
(Brittany) one order of ceremonies and
chant. This council was held against the predes
tinarians. This council was also held against the pre
destinarians. We are ignorant of what

Sfitf) ffientttro,

25 bishops,
8 priests,
2 deacons,
representatives of their
bishops

This council was not occupied with dogma.
All its canons, of which 24 out of 70 belong
to the council of Epaone, are upon discipline.
The twenty-four rules of the council of
Epaone will be found in their place. Saint
Cesaire presided at this council. Gratian
adds canons taken from various authors ;
one against sorcerers, another against usu
rers ; the first of all forbids to bishops aid

454

HISTORY OF

Date. Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

priests the effusion of blood ; there is another
against quarrelsome persons, scandal-mon
gers, and calumniators. At the end of this
council is a letter from Theodoric to the
Roman senate, which appears to be the re
sult of it, and in which priests are forbidden
to sell the goods of the church.
Rules. — If a bishop has pronounced an
unjust, or too severe excommunication, and
warned by the neighbouring bishops, he does
not withdraw it, they must not refuse the
communion to those who have been de
prived of it. All that is given to a bishop
becomes the property of the church.
The council prescribes the tonsure of
clerks, the fast of Lent, and the communion
at the^three great feasts.
Freedmen are protected hy the church.
Every person must be present at mass
every Sunday, and not to leave until the
conclusion, under the penalty of being pub
licly reprimanded by the bishop. The bishop
can dispose of the minor goods of the church,
and of his vagrant serfs.
The clerk who shall suppress or deliver up
the titles of possession belonging to the
church, shall he excommunicated, and con
demned to pay out of his own property the
darna^i; which shall accrue thence to the
church. Priests, deacons, and sub-deacons, are for
bidden to be present at wedding feasts.
A clerk guilty of drunkenness, shall, accord
ing to his order, be deprived of the com
munion during thirty days, or submitted to
a corporal punishment, corporali silpplicio.
The council deprives of his priesthood the
clerk who robs the church; orders that a
young clerk shall not be preferred to an
elder one ; if, however, the latter cannot
fulfil the duties of an archdeaconate, he
shall have the title, and the bishop must
choose some one to exercise the functions.
This council fixes, at the age of forty years,
the time when virgins take the veil, at twenty-
five, that of the deaconship, at thirty that of
priesthood and episcopacy.
It forbids conferring the monastic order;

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

455

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &o.

511

Orleans.

32 bishops

upon married men without the consent of
their wives ; it renews a canon of the coun
cil of Vaison, upon the care to be taken
of exposed children. It forbids the cele
bration of great feasts out of the parish ;
to sell or to give the goods of the church ;
to build new monasteries without the per
mission of the bishop ; to build monasteries
for men near those of the women, and to
ordain penitents. It commands the church
to defend freedmen, and to distribute the
salaries of priests according to their merits.
It also regulates several rules of worship.
This council was convoked by Clovis, on
the advice of Saint Remy, whose signature,
however, is not to be found. Many bishops
were there from the kingdom of the Visi
goths, which had just been conquered by
Clovis. Rules. — This council made several canons
upon the right of asylum, and prescribed
that the criminal and serf who had taken
refuge in the church, should not be delivered
up until they had stipulated for their safety.
That no secular person shall be ordained
without an order from the king or the judge,
and that the children and the grandchildren
of clerks shall be under the, authority of the
bishop, instead of that of their parents.
That no one shall be excommunicated for
having, without proof, claimed anything be
longing to the church ; that the abbots shall
be subject to the bishops, and the monks to
the abbots.
That no person shall celebrate Easter in
the country.
That the bishop, if not ill, must on Sun
day attend the nearest church.
That if, through humanity, the bishop has
lent land to be cultivated, the length of time
must not occasion any prescription.
That no monk, instigated by ambition or
vanity, shall, without the permission of his
abbot, abandon his brethren to build a
separate cell ; that any professed monk who
marries shall be expelled the ecclesiastical
order.

458

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

515

51d

517

St. Maurice.

Lyons.

Epaone, in the
Viennese,
now Jena,
in Savoy

4 bishops,
8 counts.

25 bishops

The council also orders, that if a bishop
has ordained a serf without the permission
of his master, he must indemnify the latter
for his loss, but the clerk will remain or
dained ; it forbids any one to marry the
widow of a priest or deacon ; places under
the power of the bishops the real property
given to the church, and secures to them a
third part of the offerings ; enjoins them to
provide the poor and sick with clothes and
nourishment, and regulates several articles of
worship. This council was convoked by king Sigis-
mond, converted to the Catholic faith, upon
the subject of the foundation or restoration
of the monastery of Saint Maurice, and the
rules to be established therein.
It is known by a letter from Avitus, that
this council was held, and that he assisted
at it. Nothing else has come down to us con
cerning it.
There exist two circular letters by which
Avitus and Viventiolus convoke to this
council the bishops of their provinces :
Avitus insists upon the importance of making
a good choice of priests charged in times of
sickness with signing for their bishop. Vi
ventiolus declares that clerks are obliged to
come to the council, while it is only per
mitted to the laity, that the people may know
that which is regulated by the bishops.
Rules. — That priests, bishops, and deacons,
shall not possess sporting dogs or falcons.
That an abbot shall not, without the
authorization of the bishop, sell the goods of
the abbey, neither shall he enfranchise its
serfs, for it seems unjust that while the
monks are obliged to work every day upon
the land, their serfs should enjoy repose and
liberty. That no bishop shall sell the goods
of the church without the approbation of his
metropolitan; he may only conclude useful
exchanges. If an abbot, convicted of fault, is refrac
tory, and will not receive a successor from

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

457

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

617

Lyons.

his bishop, the affair must be taken before
the metropolitan.
If any one has killed a serf, without the
consent of the judge, he must expiate this
effusion of blood by a penance of two years.
The council imposes the same penance on
those catholics who have fallen into heresy.
That if a serf, guilty of atrocious crimes,
seeks refuge in a church, he shall only be
exempted from corporal punishment.
The council declares null the donations or
legacies made by priests and bishops of the
goods of the church; it forbids priests to
serve a church in another diocese, without
the consent of their bishop ; to be present at
the feasts given by heretics ; it permits the
laity to accuse clerks; it forbids placing the
relics of the saints in country oratories,
unless there are priests in the neighbourhood
to serve them ; it forbids bishops and clerks
to receive women after the vesper hour ; or
ders aU the provincial bishops to conform
themselves to the order of offices established
by the metropolitan. It forbids the young
monks and clerks to enter the monasteries
for women, unless they go to see a mother
or a sister. It orders all the noble citizens
to come at Easter and Christmas, to receive
the bishop's blessing. We must add to the
canons of the council of Epaone, several
rules which belong to it, and which have
been placed in the council of Agde of 506 ;
these are their principal provisions :
Bishops are allowed to dispose of their own
goods, but not of those of the church ; the
council condemns to restitution out of their
own property, those priests and deacons who
have disposed of the property of the church,
and declares null the enfranchisements that
they have made. It forbids clerks to
practise magic ; it will not allow the ordina
tion of factious, usurious, and vindictive
clerks; it forbids the clerks that are not
consecrated to enter the sacristy, and to
touch the sacred utensils ; and to the deacons
to sit down in the presence of the priests.

11 bishops. I This council was held on the occasion of a

458

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &e.

624

Aries.

14 bishops,
4 priests for
their
bishops.

527

Carpentras.

16 bishops.

029

Orange.

14 bishops,
8 viri illus
tres.

529

Valence.

certain Stephen, who had married his sister-
in-law. There are no canons that call for
remark ; they ore a repetition of some already
cited. Fraternal union among the bishops
is recommended.
This council was held and presided over
by Saint Cesarius, on the occasion of the
dedication of the cathedral of Saint Mary.
Rules. — Although we ought to observe the
ordinances of the ancient fathers, as to the
longer duration of the conversion of the laity,
before their ordination, yet as the number
of churches augments, and the want of clerks
is greater, it is ordered, without prejudice to
the ancient rules, that no metropolitan
bishop shall make a bishop from the laity ;
that the bishops shall not make a laic priest,
or deacon, until a year of noviciate.
That the bishop who has ordained a peni
tent or a bigamist, shall remain a year with
out saying mass.
This council was presided over by St. Cesa
rius; it has but one article. The fathers
arranged to meet at Vaison the next year.
Rules. — That what belongs to a church,
shall be distributed to the clerks who serve it,
and employed in reparations. That if a
bishop has more expenses than money, and I
there are in his diocese parishes in the con- I
trary situation, he can apply their surplus to
his expenses, leaving them the sum neces
sary to the wants of their churches and clerks.
This council was assembled for the dedica
tion of the cathedral of Orange, built by the
prefect Liber; but the true cause of its con
vocation by St. Cesarius, was a writing by
Faust, bishop of Riez, " De gratia Dei qua sal-
vamur," which was suspected of semi-Pela
gianism. The council fixed, in 25 canons, the
doctrine of St. Augustin, but did not make
it into discipline.
This council was convoked hy St. CesariuB
(who could not preside) against the semi-
Pelagians.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

459

Date. !

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &o.

529

Vaison.

12 bishops.

533

Orleans.

26 bishops,
8 priests.

This council was presided over by St. Cesa
rius. Rules. — That, as is the salutary custom in
Italy, the priests, when they have no wives,
shall receive in their houses young lecturers,
whom they shall instruct, and thus prepare
for themselves worthy successors ; and when
these are of age, if by the fragility of the
flesh, they wish for a wife, they are not to be
prevented from marrying.
That, the same as in Italy and the Eastern
provinces, the Kyrie eleison and the Sanctus,
Sanctus, shall be said every day at the
mass. That the pope's name shall be recited in
our churches.
As, not only in the apostolic seat, but also
in the East, Africa, and Italy, the malice of
the heretics causes them to deny that the
Son of God has always been equal with the
Father, after Gloria, &c, Sicut erat in prin-
cipio, has been added; and we order that
the same shall be observed in all the
churches. The council permits all the priests to preach,
not only in the towns, but in all the pro
vinces, and prescribes that when they cannot
do it, a deacon shall read the homilies of the
holy fathers.
Bales. — That no bishop having received
notice from his metropolitan, fail to come to
the council or to the consecration of a co-
bishop. That the metropolitans convoke each year
the bishops to the provincial councils.
That the bishops shall receive nothing for
the ordinations.
That no bishop shall refuse to attend the
funeral of another bishop, and that he shall
demand nothing for his trouble and expenses.
That a bishop attending the funeral of a
bishop, shall assemble the priests and entrust
the goods of the church to persons worthy
of confidence.
That no person in a church shall sing,
drink, or do anything unbecoming.
That no one who is unlettered or ignorant

460

HISTORY OF

Date

535

Place.

Clermont.

Present.

Bishops.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

of the form of baptism shall be ordained
deacon or priest.
On account of their frailty, women are ex
cluded from the deaconship.
Catholics who return to the worship of idols
and eat flesh offered to idols, or animals
killed by the bite of a beast, or suffocated,
shall be excommunicated.
That no priest shall live with secular per
sons without the permission of the bishops.
The council condemns to degradation the
deacon who shaU marry in captivity, and the
clerks who disdain to acquit themselves of
their functions. It excommunicates abbots
who resist bishops. It renews the ancient
form for the consecration of the metropoli
tan, and orders that after being chosen by
the provincial bishops, the clerks, and the
people, he shall be consecrated by the pro
vincial bishops. It forbids marriages be
tween Christians and Jews.
The council was held the 11th year of his
reign, by Theodebert, king of Austrasia,
who was more favourable to the clergy than
his father had been.
Rules. — That no bishop shall dare to pro
pose any affair to the council before those
which regard the amendment of manners,
the severity of the rule, and the saving of
souls. That bishoprics shall be given according to
merit, and not to those who merely ask for
them. That the clerks shall not rise against the
bishops by the help of the power of the laity.
That those who demand from kings the
property of the church, and by a horrible
cupidity seize the goods of the poor, shall
be excluded from the communion and the
donation shall be null.
That Jews shall not be constituted judges
over Christian people.
That if a bishop will not by canonical
rigour prevent the priests and deacons fi-om
having commerce of any kind with women,
he shall himself be excommunicated.
The council forbids priests private orato-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

461

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c

538

Orleans.

19 bishops,
7 priests.

tones to celebrate the great feasts away from
the cathedral church.
Canons derived from different authors.
— That the priests shall inform the people
where the inns are situated. The Innkeepers
must not refuse to lodge any traveller, and
must not make him pay for anything more
than the market price, or the affair must he
taken before the priest, who wiU oblige them
to sell with humanity
There shaU be no action against a bishop
who has without interference possessed the
diocese of another bishop during thirty
years. (Some words are wanting here, but
it is evident that the council recommends
that in this case the limits of the dioceses
shall not be confounded.)
As regards priests who ore accused of
fornication, or any capital crime, and who
have no colleagues to swear with them, as to
their innocence, they must be judged by the
canons. A bishop may, with the concurrence of the
clerks, help his family with the church trea-

Rules. — If clerks placed under the patron
age of any of the laity, shall makeit a pretence
to disobey their bishop, and refuse to fulfil
their functions, they must be separated from
other clerks, and shaU receive nothing from
the church.
It shall be in the power of the bishop
to decide whether or not the clerks attached
to a monastery or a church shall or shall
not retain what they possessed before their
ordination. If any clerks, as by the inspiration of the
devil happened lately in several places, rebel
against authority, unite in conspiracy, and
take mutual oaths, or mutually subscribe an
agreement to that purpose, nothing shall ex
cuse such presumption, but the affair shall be
taken before the synod.
That no serf or labourer shall be admittel
to ecclesiastical honours.
That no one shall be present at divina
service with warlike arms.

462

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

541

Orleans.

88 bishops,
11 priests,

If a judge, knowing that a heretic has re-bap
tised a catholic, does not seize the heretic
and send the affair before the king, for we
have catholic kings, he shall be excommuni
cated during the space of a year,
This council repeats the rules of the pre
ceding, concerning the separation of priests
from women ; sub-deacons are included. We
must repeat, says the council, what we know
is not observed.
It orders, also, as regards the newly con
verted Christians, on account of the novelty
of their faith and conversion, that the for
bidden marriages they have contracted pre
vious shall not be broken.
It renews, also, the anathemas against those
who obtain or alienate the goods of the
church. It excommunicates, for six months,
the bishops who shall make an ordination
contrary to the canons ; for one year, him
who in such a case has deceived the bishop,
clerk, or witness. It expels from his order
the clerk guilty of any capital crime.
It directs them not to restore but to buy at a
just price the Christian serfs who have sought
in the church an asylum against their Jewish
masters, who would impose on them any
thing contrary to their religion, or shall not
have fulfilled the promises made when they
were restored upon a former occasion.
It refers clerks, who complain of the
bishops, to the synodal judgment.
It complains, that the people have been
told that one may not travel, or cook, or
clean houses or one's person on a Sunday; it
declares these observances more Jewish than
Christian, and holds permitted all that was
allowed before ; it excludes the cultivation of
land, which would prevent the attending
church. It forbids people to leave church
before the end of mass. It interdicts, also,
" for, by the grace of God, we have catholic
kings," from Holy Saturday until Easter
Monday, the Jews from mixing with the
Christians in any place or on any occasion.
The council was occupied with discipline.
Rules. — The council orders the celebration

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

463

Date.

Place

Present.

Object of tho Council,, Rules, &c.

' 1 abbot
each for 1
bishop.

of Easter according to the usage of Rome, and
decides that each time there is a doubt upon
the epoch of a solemnity, the apostolical
usage ought to be observed.
That the palish priests receive the decrees of
the canons, so that they or their people cannot
excuse themselves on the plea of ignorance
of what is necessary for their salvation.
If a bishop, who has left none of his own
property, has disposed of that of the church,
it must return to the church ; but if from the
serfs of the church he has made a number of
freedmen, they remain free, but they must not
fall away from their allegiance to the church.
If bishops quarrel among themselves for
lands or other possessions, on being warned
by the letters of their brothers, they must
arrange between themselves or submit to ar
bitrators. Bishops, priests, and deacons, are exempt
from the wardship of the administration,
because it is just to retain for Christians
what the law of the world did for the pagan,
priests. That the slaves of the priests and of the
church must neither pillage nor make priso
ners, for it is iniquitous that ecclesiastical
discipline should be stained by the crimes of
the servants of those who frequent the sacra
ment of redemption. Serfs who have fled to
the church under pretext of marriage, and
believing that thus they can marry, must be
returned to their masters or parents ; and the
clerks must not protect such unions.
If parishes are placed in the hands of pow
erful men, and the clerks, warned by the
archdeacon of the city, neglect to acquit
themselves of their duty towards the house
of the Lord, they must be corrected accord
ing to ecclesiastical discipline.
If Christians, slaves of the Jews, have fled
from their masters and demand their liberty,
we order that, as in the ancient laws, having
given a just price they be set at liberty.
If any one desires to have a chapel on his
own premises, he must assign sufficient land
for it and furnish it in with clerks, who will
celebrate the offices in a proper manner.

461

HISTORY OP

Date.

549

Place.

Orleans.

Present.

50 bishops,
21 priests,
archdeacons or abbots,
each repre
senting a
bishop.

549 or
550

Clermont.

10 bishops

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

The council orders also that the consecra
tion of a bishop shall take place in the town
which he is to govern ; it forbids proprietors of
chapels to receive strange clerks without the
consent of the bishop of the place. It forbids
heirs to take what has been left to the
church ; it also forbids any one to marry a
girl without the consent of her parents.
It excommunicates those proprietors of
chapels who would hinder the clerks who
serve them from acquitting themselves of
what they owe to the divine service.
It excludes from ordination those who
descend from unemancipated serfs, and assures
to the churches the return of all of which
the bishops have given out the usufruct.
This council condemned the errors of the
Eutychians, the Nestorians, and, according
to Baluze, of the Arians, whose heresy was
reaching Orleans. .
Rules. — A serf shall not be ordained, even
though he be free, against the will of his
master. If it has been done, the'serf must
be returned to his master ; but if he exacts
from him services incompatible with the
honour of the ecclesiastical order, then the
bishop shall give two serfs to the master,
and take the one who has been ordained.
This council assembled a short time after
that of Orleans.
Rules. — As we have discovered that several
people reduce again to servitude those, who,
according to the custom of the country, have
been set at liberty in the churches, we order
that every one shall keep possession of the
liberty he has received ; and if this liberty is
attacked, justice must be defended by the
church. The prisoners must he visited every Sunday
by the archdeacon, or some one proposed by
the church, that all their wants may be at-
attcnded to.
The veil may not be given to virgins when
the will of their parents, or their own, lead6
to the monastery, until three years' trial.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

465

Date.

Place.

Present.

I

Object of the Council, Rules, &e.

Abort 550

Toul.

A bishop knowing that there are leperous
persons on his territory, or in the town,
must furnish them with all that is neces
sary. A master who has not kept the word he
gave to this serf to induce him to leave the
church, shall be excommunicated. If the
serf refuse to leave the church upon the word i
of his master, he can employ force, that the
church may not suffer from calumny, as if she
withheld serfs.
If a master is a pagan or a heretic, he must
present Christians worthy of confidence to
swear for him.
No one may be permitted to obtain a
bishopric with the help of presents, but, with
the consent of the king, the pontiff elected
by the clergy and the people must, as pre
scribed in the ancient rules, be consecrated
by the metropolitan, or some one com
missioned in his place, and the provincial
bishops. No one shall be made bishop over those
who refuse to have him, and (it would be
a crime) the consent of the clergy and
citizens must not be constrained by the
oppression of persons in power ; if it be so,
the bishop who has been elected more by
violence than by a legitimate election, shall
be for ever deprived of the usurped pontifical
honour. Excommunication may not be lightly pro
nounced. Priests may not at an unfitting time see
even their near relations.
Bishops may not ordain in a diocese vacant
by the death of its bishop. No bishop must i
be placed above another, unless the latter has
been -guilty of some crime.
This council was convoked by Theodebald,
king of Austrasia. Nicet, bishop of Treves,
had excommunicated several Franks for in
cestuous marriages. This irritating them,
they insulted the bishop. The issue of
this council is not known ; its epoch s not

VOL. II.

B H

466

HISTORY OE

Date.

550

554

555

550

557

Place.

Metz.

Present.

Aries.

InArmorica, place un
certain.

Paris.

Paris.

11 bishops,
8 priests,
deacons,
and arch
deacons.

27 bishops,

1 6 bishops.

Object of the Council, Rules, Sec

Saint Gall, bishop of Clermont, being dead,
the bishops present at his funeral wished to
consecrate as his successor Cato, who was
elected by a great part of the people ; but the
archdeacon Cautin, coming to king Theode
bald, acquainted him with the death of the
archbishop, but concealed the rest. The
king gave him the bishopric; and the bishops,
then at Metz, consecrated him, and he was
bishop in spite of his flock, by the violence
that the king employed towards the deputies
of Clermont.
Rules. — No priest shall depose a deacon or
subdeacon without the consent of his bishop.
The clerk shall not waste the property which
has been given him for his use by the bishop.
If a young clerk does so, he must be cor
rected by the discipline of the church ; if he
is old, he must be looked upon as an assassin
of the poor.
The council also made several rules for
keeping under the spiritual and temporal
power of the bishop, the monasteries of men
and women. It forbids abbots to travel with
out the permission of the bishop.
This council excommunicated Maclou,
bishop of Vannes, who, after the death of
his brother, Chann, count of Brittany, quitted
his bishop for the countship and a wife.
This council, convoked by Childebert, king
of Paris, and presided over by Sapaudus,
bishop of Aries, deposed and shut up in a
monastery Saffaracus, bishop of Paris : Eu
sebius his successor.
This council was assembled to prevent by
laws the dispersion of the goods of the
churches, that the Frank kings gave to the
first-comers. Rules. — Several laws against the detainers
of church property, those who receive it from
the kings, those who attack the personal
property of the bishops, because the goods of
the bishops are the property of the church.
It forbids bishops to try to get possessiou of

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

467

Oate.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

563

Saintes.

567

Lyons.

8 bishops.
5 priests.
1 deacon.

another's goods, and orders, without preju
dice to royal liberality, the restitution there
of to the legitimate proprietor. It for
bids any one to carry off or to marry, under
favour of the king, a girl or a widow without
the consent of her parents. It annuls the
ordination of a bishop named by the king
against the will of the metropolitan and the
provincial bishops, and the citizens ; and
as in several things ancient customs are
neglected, the council renews add recom
mends the observance of the ancient laws.
The couucil also orders the church and the
priests to observe the will of the defunct as
regards serfs left by will to keep the tombs.
This council elected Heraclius in the place
of Emerius whom Clotaire had made bishop
of Saintes, Clotaire being dead in the interval,
but Charibert made them receive Emerius,
and imposed fines on the bishops, amongst
others, on Leontius, the metropolitan of
Bordeaux, who had convoked and presided
at the council.
This council was convoked by king Gontran,
to judge Salone, bishop of Embrun, and
Sagittaire, bishop of Gap, who were thorough
brigands. They were deposed by the council ;
but they appealed to Pope John, and were by
his order reinstated in their sees.
Rules. — As to the ruin of their souls many
have made captives by violence and treason,
if they neglect to restore those they have
taken captive, as the king orders, to the place
where they have long lived in repose, they
must be deprived of communion with- the
church. The council orders that discussions between
bishops must be decided by the metropolitan,
and that no bishop shall give communion to
him who has excommunicated another bishop.
That wills by which clerks, or other persons,
have left anything to the church, shall always
be valid, whatever fault may be in the form
thereof. It forbids bishops to reclaim the
liberalities of their predecessors.

46S

HISTOHY OF

Date. 567

Place.

Tours.

Present.

7 bishops.

Object of the Council, Rules, &e.

073

575
577

Paris.

Lyons. Paris,

21 bishops.
1 priest.

This council was assembled during the wars
of the sons of Clotaire, and when the kings
made use of the goods of the church to meet
the expenses they incurred. Saint Rade
gonde wrote to the council to demand the
confirmation of her rule. Her demand was
granted. Rules.— This council, like many others,
strongly recommends concord amongst the
bishops. It orders that citizens and country
priests shall nourish their poor, that they
may not be obliged to go to other cities ; it
reiterates all prohibitions about women,
and orders several precautions that suspicion
may not fall upon the clerks. It forbids
priests and monks to sleep together ; it ex
communicates the judge who shall refuse to
separate a monk from the wife he has taken
since his profession ; it regulates the monk's
fasts; it forbids several pagan supersti
tions ; it renews all the menaces against those
who, whilst our lords make war upon each
other, invade or reclaim the goods of the
church; and declares those judges and lords
excommunicated who oppress the poor in
spite of being warned by the bishop.
The council orders that bishops only shall
give letters of recommendation ; that before
sending away an abbot or an archpriest,
they take counsel of all their priests and
abbots, under penalty of being themselves ex
communicated. It excommunicates priests
who do not keep the rules of celibacy ; pre
scribes that they shall help each other when
one of them is insulted by indocile clerks.
It forbids women to enter monasteries of men.
This council was assembled to decide the
affair of Promotus, who had been consecrated
bishop of Chateaudun, against all canonical
rule. The council declared him deposed,
according to the demand made by Pappolus,
bishop of Chartres, administrator of the
church of Chateaudun during the vacancy.

This council judged the affair of Pretextat.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

469

Date.

Place

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

078

Auxerre.

The bishop
of Auxerre,
7 abbots,
34 priests, 3
deacons, all
from the dio
cese of Aux

579

Chalons.

579

Saintes.

This synod was held by Aunachaire, bishop
of Auxerre ; nothing was discussed but ques
tions of discipline and ceremonies.
Rules. — This synod forbids many pagan
superstitions ; it orders all priests to attend
the synod in May, and the abbots to come to
the council in November.
It forbids repasts in churches, and allow- 1
ing young girls and secular persons to ring
there. No clerk shall summon any one, but he
shall authorise his brother, or some other lay
man to do it.
Every layman, who has despised the warn
ings of his arch-priest shall be excluded from
the church so long as his disobedience shall
last, and shall pay besides the fine that our
glorious king has imposed.
The synod forbids two masses to be said
the same day on the same altar ; to put a
corpse upon a corpse ; to receive the offering
of those who have committed suicide ; it also
forbids clerks to hear or celebrate mass un
less they be fasting; priests or deacons to
assist at executions, or at sentences of death.
No clerk shaU summon another before the
secular judge ; priests may not sing or dance
at feasts ; abbots and monks may not be god
fathers. It regulates the penance of an abbot
who has not enforced the observance of the
laws upon celibacy ; his penance ought to
take place in another monastery than that of
which he is the head.
This council was convoked by Gontran to
judge anew Sagittaire and Salone. They
were condemned as guilty of high treason
and being traitors to their country, the
bishops having found that their other crimes
could be expiated by canonical penance. The
council consecrated a bishop for Maurienne,
and subjected it to the bishop of Vienne.
The council recommended to the mercy of
Heraclius the count Nantinuis, whom he had
excommunicated, and who demanded absolu
tion. The bishop granted it.

470

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

580 Braines.

581

581

Lyon.

Macon.

21 bishops.

583

584

585

Lyon.

Valence.

Macon.

8 bishops, 12
bishops, legates.
17 bishops.

43 bishops,
1 5 envoys,
16 bishops
without sees

This council judged the affair of Gregory
of Tours, accused by one Leudaste. The
cause was gained by Leudaste.
This council reprimanded several bishops
for negligence.
This council was convoked by Gontran.
Rules. — No clerk shall wear silk or other
secular vestments that do not become his
profession. A judge who has without sufficient cause —
that is to say, without a charge of man
slaughter, theft, or craft, arrested a priest, shall
be excommunicated.
No Jew shall be made judge over Chris
tians, nor shall they be permitted to receive
taxes. The council forbids Christians to serve
Jews, and gives to Christians, serfs of Jews,
the power of redeeming then- liberty.
The council made a law upon the letters
from bishops to other bishops concerning the
redemption of captives, recommending -that
their authenticity be examined.
It orders bishops to take care of the lepers
found in the temtory of their city, that they
may not go to other cities.

The council confirmed the donations that
Gontran, his wife and daughter, had .made to
churches. The council convoked by Gontran, was com
posed of all the bishops under him, amongst
whom several had been deprived of their sees
by the Goths. He then wrote to all the,
bishops and judges of his kingdom to make
them execute the decrees of the council.
It was in this council that took place the
celebrated discussion, of which it has so
often been said, the question was whether
women had a soul. The fact is, that a bishop
insisted that woman ought not to be called
homo ; but he submitted to these two reasons, i

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

471

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

that the Scripture says that God created man,
male and female; and that Jesus Christ,
sou of a woman, is called the Son of Man.
Rules. — The council orders that Sunday
shall be more exactly observed; that every
Christian shall present offerings ; that the
tithes shall be paid regularly, and that no
baptisms shall be celebrated except in the
time prescribed, unless it is a matter of neces
sity. One of the canons commences thus: — It be
hoves us to bring to their firsf- state all those
things of the holy church that we know are
degenerated by the lapse of time.
That no priest being intoxicated, or having
broken i js fast, dare to celebrate the sacrifice.
The council made- a law for protecting
freedmen before the church, and charged
their bishops to plead their cause. It also
regulates, that if any powerful person has a
quarrel with a bishop, the affair must be car
ried before the metropolitan, and no vio
lence employed against the bishop ; it orders
the same to be observed as to priests and dea
cons. It forbids judges to decide about widows and
orphans, without having informed the bishop,
their natural protector, or, in his absence, one
of his priests, and to decide all in deliberat
ing with them.
It forbids bishops to have their houses pro
tected by dogs, as being contrary to hospi
tality. It forbids one corpse to be put in the
sepulchre of another without the permission
of those to whom it belongs. It regulates all
the marks of honour that a layman ought to
render to a clerk in meeting him, and the
manner in which the clerk ought to respond.
The council forbids clerks to assist at the
trial of criminals.
It orders that all demands be judged ac
cording to the laws and canons, " for tread
ing under foot the laws and rules, those
who are near the king, and are inflated by
the power of the world, usurp the goods of
others, and without judicial action or proof,
not only deprive the poor of their fields, but
eject them from their dwellings."

472

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

i

087

588

588

589

589

569

589090

Andelot.

Clermont.

Place
uncertain. *
Sourcy.

Poitiers.

Chalons.

Narbonne.

The bishops
who were
with Gon
tran.
7 bishops.

This assemblage of bishops and nobles
counselled and confirmed the peace between
Gontran and Childebert.
This council was held by Sulpice, bishop of
Bourges, with, his suffragans, about certain
parishes, which the bishops of Cahors, and
Rhodez were disputing ; the latter gained the
cause. This council was occupied with several
crimes, amongst others, with the murder of
Pretextat, archbishop of Rouen.
This council ordered that the entry of the
town be granted to Drontegisile, bishop of
Soissons. This assembly excommunicated Chrodielde
and the nuns of the monastery of Saint Ra
degonde. This assembly confirmed the excommuni
cation pronounced by the council of Poi
tiers. This council was convoked by Recared,
king of the Visigoths.
Rules. — The council forbids clerks to wear
purple vestments ; to stop upon public places ;
to mix in the conversations which are held
there ; and to meet in councils or plots,
under the patronage of the laity, which
had been already forbidden by the council
ofNicea (of Chalcedonia, according to Labbe.)
It orders abbots not to inflict upon the
guilty imprisoned in the monasteries any
other penance than that imposed by the
bishops. The council forbids certain pagan supersti
tions, and condemns the guilty, if they are
freemen, to penance ; if they are slaves, to
the rod.
It orders clerks to be subordinate to their
superiors ; forbids those who are at the altar
to quit it during the celebration of mass ; it
forbids, under penalty of a, fine, the Jews
interring their dead with chants.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

473

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

090 590 590
591594

615

On the
confines of
Auvergne, of
Gerardinand Rou-
ergue.
Poitiers.

. Metz.
Nanterre. Chalons. Chalons. Paris.

6 bishops.

This council judged the affair of Tetradia,
divorced from Didier, and first wife of Eula-
dius, who claimed the property she had taken
in flying to rejoin Didier.

This council judged the quarrel between
Chrodielde and the abbess of the monastery of
Poitiers. Gilles, bishop of Reims, was deposed in
this council for the crime of high treason.
Chrodielde and Basine were received into
grace. The little king, Clotaire IL, was baptized
in this assembly.
This council regulated the manner in which
1 the offices should be said in the monastery of
I Saint Marcel.

g*b*ntf) ffienturo.

Queen Brunehault, in this council,
posed Saint Didier, bishop of Vienne.

de-

This council was convoked by Clotaire II.
Rules. — No bishop shall choose a coadjutor
for himself.
No judge shall arrest a clerk without the
knowledge of a bishop.
The council forbids any one to touch the
goods of a deceased ecclesiastic until his
will is made known.
It forbids bishops and all who have power,
whether clergy or secular, to seize the goods
or rights of a bishop.
It forbids bishops and archdeacons to take
possession of what has been left by a priest
or an abbot, and to despoil the church under
pretext of the good of the church.
It forbids Jews to demand from princes any
authority over Christians, and orders that he
who has obtained it shall be baptized with all
his family

474

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

A little
after
the pre
ceding.

Place
uncertain.

i;-;;>

Reims.

41 bishops.

027

Macon.

Rules. — The council forbids making a lay
man archpriest, unless it be because the merit
of his person has made the bishops judge it
necessary for the consolation of the church,
and the defence of the parishioners.
If freedmen have sold themselves, when
they are able to give the sum for which they
sold themselves, they ought to receive their
liberty ; if amongst such persons, the husband
has a free wife, or the wife a free husband,
their children shall be free.
The council forbids celebrating in the mo
nasteries, unless by the permission of the
bishops, baptisms and masses for the dead,
or interring the laity there.
It forbids depriving without reasou, arch-
priests and the archdeacons.
There are after this council synodal statutes
of the church of Reims, but they are thought
to be of much later date ; they contain nothing
of importance.
Rules. — The council renews the laws against
the conspiracy of priests, and the snares
they hold out for their bishops. It orders
bishops to seek out and convert the heretics
that may be found in Gaul. It orders that those
whose lives shall be saved by their seeking
refuge in the churches shall promise before
being set at liberty to accomplish the canoni
cal penance. If a Christian is forced to sell
his slaves, he may not sell them to any hut
Christians, under pain of excommunication.
If Jews wish to make their Christian slaves
adopt their persuasion, or make them suffer
cruel torments, they shall return into the
power of the fisc. The council forbids
receiving the accusation of persons who
are not free, and reducing freedmen to servi
tude ; it forbids, as did almost all the pre
ceding councils, to regard as a bishop him
who is not a native of the place, and who has
not been chosen by the will of all the people,
with the consent of the provincial bishops;
it forbids bishops to break the sacred vases
unless it is for the redemption of captives.
AgrestiuB, monk of Luxeuil, rigorously at-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

628

633

638

645

648 650

Clichy.

Clichy.

Paris.

Orleans.

Bourges. Chalons.

Bishops and
nobles, con
voked by
j Clotaire.
16 bishops,
king Dago
bert and
some noble
laymen.
9 bishops,
king Dago
bert, 3 noble
laymen.

Provincial synod.
38 bishops,
abbots, 1
archdeacon.

tacked the rule of Saint Columban ; the
abbot Eustache defended it ; and the council
sanctioned it.
The council of Clichy was occupied with ,
public peace and ecclesiastical discipline.

This council treated of fugitives and the '
asylum of the church of Saint Denis.

This council confirmed the privileges of the
church of Saint Denis.

This council was assembled by Saint Eloy
against a Greek who preached the heresy of
the Monothelites. He was opposed by bishop
Sauve, and driven from Gaul.

The council of Chalons deposed Agapius,
and Bobon, bishops of Digne.
Rules. — The council forbids consecrating
at the same time two bishops for one town ;
confiding the property of parishes and the
parishes themselves to laymen ; selling slaves
beyond the dominion of the king (Clovis II).
It forbids judges to visit parishes and mo
nasteries, which are under the jurisdiction of
bishops, and to send before them clerks
and abbots, to make them prepare lodgings.
It forbids electing two abbots for one monas
tery, or one abbot to choose his successor, or
abbots and monks to seek the protection
of the nobles, and to go to the prince
without the permission of the bishop; it
complains that those nobles who have cha
pels shake the allegiance of their clerks
to the jurisdiction of the ordinary. It forbids
carrying arms in church, or attacking any
one there to kill or wound him ; it also for
bids that women should sing indecent songs
there.

47b

HISTORY Oi?

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

About 658

6G4

069

670

Nantes.

Paris.

Clichy.

Autun.

25 bishops.

Bishops and
nobles.

About 670

679

685 or
684

Sens.

Place
uncertain.

In a royal
palace. Id.

Rouen.

34 bishops.

16 bishops.
4 abbots, 1
legate, and
many of the
clergy.

Nivard, bishop of Reims, consented in this
assembly to the renovation of the monastery,
of Hautvilliers, near Marne.
These bishops confirmed the privileges
granted to the church of Saint Denis by
Landry, bishop of Paris. Labbe mentions
this assembly but does not reckon it.
King Clovis in this assembly had the privi
leges of the church of Saint Denis committed
to writing.
This council, held by Saint Leger, was only
occupied with monastic discipline, and pre
scribed nothing new on this subject.
Rules. — Let the priest, or deacon, who does
not know perfectly by heart the symbol of
Saint Athanasius be condemned hy his bishop.
No layman shall be looked upon as catholic
who does not go to communicate at Christ
mas, at Easter, and at Whitsuntide. No
woman shall mount to the altar.
This council confirmed the privileges of
the monastery of Saint Pierre-le-Vif.
This council condemned the Monothelites,
and sent three legates to the pope, two bishops
and one deacon.
Ebroin deposed in this council Saint Leger,
and Lambert, bishop of Maestricht.
Saint Leger and Ebroin being dead, three
bishops disputed for the body of Saint Leger ;
the council adjudged it to Ansoald, bishop of
Poitiers. This council granted several privileges to
the monastery of Fontanelles, upon condition
that it should not swerve from the rule of
Saint Benedict.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

477

lEigijti) <!I*ntutp.

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

719

742

Maestricht.

Germany.

Carloman, 7 bishops
named, seve
ral others,
and their
priests,
noble lay
men.

743 Leptines.

Saint Willibrod and Saint Swithbert pre
sided at this synod, which sent Saint Boniface
and several other missionaries to preach the
gospel to the Germans.
Carloman convoked this council which was
held at Augsburg or at Ratisbon; he had
just arrived from Italy, and had received from
pope Zachary the order to hold this council
It is Carloman who speaks in these canons.
Rules. — By the council of holy priests and
my nobles, we institute bishops for the cities ;
we place Boniface at their head, and we order
that synods shall be held every year.
Priests are forbidden to carry arms, except
those who are necessary in the armies to say
moss, and to hear the confessions of sinners.
Parish priests must submit to their bishops,
and render them an account of their conduct
every year.
One must be cautious with strange and un
known bishops.
Unknown priests and bishops may not be
admitted to the holy mystery.
The bishops, with the aid of the count
(Gravio), must watch that the people do not
fall into any pagan superstition.
(Several dispositions follow regarding the
conduct of the priests.)
This council was held by Pepin ; it con
firmed the decrees of the council of Germany.
Pepin placed at the head of the bishops whom
he had chosen, Abel, archbishop of Reims,
andAdorbert, archbishop of Sens. Saint Boni
face presided at this council ; the object of it
was to reform the clergy; the bishops, priests,
and all the clerks promised to change their
habits, and to conduct themselves according
to the ancient canons ; the monks received
the rule of Saint Benedict ; chastisements
were denounced against those, male or female,
who should be guilty of adultery. It is Pepin
who speaks.
At the end of this council are found seveial

478

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

744

Ul

23 bishops.
several
clerks and
laymen.

Germany.

pieces which appear to belong to it : the re
nunciation by the Saxons of the worship
of Odin, in the German language ; a list of
the pagan superstitions of the Germans ; an
allocution on illicit marriages, one on morals,
and one against the Jewish observance of the
sabbath; also the canons given hy Boniface;
they contain nothing new.
Rules. — We order that he who is in posses
sion of a house, shall give a sol to the church
or monastery.
We order, as my father ordered before,
that he who has practised any pagan supersti
tion, be condemned to a fine of fifteen sous.
Canons and statutes decreed by the synod
held by Boniface, according to the order
of the Roman pontiff and the prayer of the
principal Franks and Gauls.
These canons commence and finish by a
profession of obedience to the pope, whom they
engage to consult and obey in all things ;
they promise also to ask from him the Pal
lium. "Xhe metropolitan must hold a council
every year ; every bishop on his return from
council must assemble Ms priests and his
abbots and exhort them to observe its decrees ;
every bishop must visit his diocese every year ;
every priest must at Lent render a complete
account of his conduct to his bishop. The
metropolitans must watch the bishops and
inquire about their zeal. If a bishop cannot
correct his priests, he must carry the affair
to the archbishops, as the Roman church has
insisted upon my making a vow to indicate
to her those priests whom I could never cor
rect. This council with the consent of the princes
and the people, condemned the heresy of
Adalbert ; it made several canons of no in
terest; it is signed by Pepin and Radbod.
This council deposed on the demand of
Saint Boniface, the bishop of Mayence, who
had killed some one in war. Carloman, who
had convoked this council by the advice of
Boniface, and his brother Pepin, gave to
Boniface the bishopric of Mayence, which
was made metropolitan of Germany.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

479

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

748

752

Duren.

Vermerie.

752

Metz.

This council was convoked by Pepin to
occupy itself with the repair of churches
and the affairs of the poor, widows and
orphans, to whom it was urgent that justice
should be rendered.
This council was held in the presence of
Pepin. Rules. — The council forbids giving a woman
the veil against her will, and in this case
declares her at liberty ; the priest who has
done it is disgraced.
A freeman who has married a wife, believing
her to be free, can marry again upon learning
that she is not ; and so for a woman, unless
her husband has sold himself through poverty,
and she has consented to it, and the price
of the sale has kept her.
He who knows that the woman he marries
is a serf must keep her.
A serf who has a concubine who is a serf,
can quit her and receive another from the
hands of his master; but he would do better
to keep her.
If a man is obliged to fly, and his wife refuse
to accompany him, he can marry again after
he has done penance.
If a freed serf has commerce with a woman
who is a serf, must many her if the master
give his consent ; if not, so long as she lives
he may not have another wife.
He who permits his wife to take the veil
cannot marry, again.
This council was held under king Pepin ;
all its dispositions bear the mark of civil
authority. Sules — The count must force the priests
to attend the synod.
No one shall, under any pretext, stop the
pilgrims who are travelling to Rome.
A livre may not contain more than 22
sous, of which one must be for the coiner.
Franchises must be preserved.
This council confiscates the goods of those
who make forbidden marriages, and condemns
to pecuniary and corporal punishment those
i who aid or tolerate them.

480

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

750

Verne.

Present.

Nearly all
the bishops
of Gaul.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c

The council was held by the order and in
the presence of king Pepin.
Rules. — There must be bishops in every
town. All must obey the bishops whom we have
constituted metropolitans, from this time
until we can do it more canonically.
There shaU be every year two synods, one
in the calends of March, in the presence of
the king, and in whatsoever place he please ;
the other in October, and in the place that
the bishops shall have chosen in March.
All the ecclesiastics that have been so di
rected by the metropolitans shall come to the
second synod.
The bishop shall have the power of cor
recting his clergy and the monks.
Those men who say they have been ton
sured for the love of God, and who live on
their property, and according to their fancy,
shall be shut up in a monastery, or shall
lead a canonical life under the direction of the
bishop. If a monastery has fallen into the hands of
laymen, so that the bishop cannot amend it,
and the monks wish for the salvation of their
souls to leave it, and to enter another, they
must be permitted to do so.
Bishops who have no diocese must not
exercise any function in the diocese of other
bishops. As the people have been persuaded that
they may not on Sunday go on horseback, on
oxen, or in carriages, or travel or prepare
their nourishment, or cleanse themselves cr
their houses, ( and as this is more Jewish than
Christian,) we have decided that Sunday may
be kept as it has been hitherto. We think
that we ought to abstain from cultivating the
land, that we may have more facility to
come to church ; if any one does work that
is interdicted, his- chastisement does not
belong to the laity, but to the priests.
AU laymen, whether noble or not, must be
married publicly.
No church may remain more than threo
months without a bishop.
Royal monasteries must render account

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

481

Date. Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules,

&c.

756 I Leptines.

707

Compiegne.

758

759

761

20 bishops,
14 ecclesi
astics.

Compiegne.

Germany.

Wolwich.

763 . Nevers.

764765

Worms.
Attigny.

VOL. II.

27 bishops,
17 abbots.

I I

of their income to the king; those of the
episcopacy, to the bishop.
This council was held by king Pepin, who
endeavoured to procure the- restitution of
church property : not being able to succeed,
they imposed a rent of twelve deniers on the
farms on this property, and they ordered a
levy of ninths and tenths with the same
view. This council was held by king Pepin in
the general assembly of the people.
Rules. — -All the canons of this council re
gard marriage ; they permit the wife of a
leper to marry another man, if she has the
consent of her husband ; and the man who
has married in a fief to which he has fol
lowed his lord, after the death of this lord, if
he is despoiled of the fief which he received,
and has left the wife he received at the same
time, and married again in his own country,
is permitted to regard this second wife as
legitimate. This assembly, which perhaps ought not to
be counted here, was that in which Tassilon,
duke of Bavaria, swore fidelity to Pepin.
Guarin and Ruithard, employed by the fisc,
condemned to prison for disorderly conduct,
Othmar, abbot of Saint Gall, whose only
crime appears to- be that he had complained
and still complained of their exactions.
Pepin held this assembly in Auvergne;
they disputed against heresies on the
Trinity. Pepin made many donations to the
neighbouring churches.
Pepin held this assembly; it has left nothing
regarding the church.

Nothing remains of this assembly except
the methods taken by its- members to assure
themselves a great number of masses and
prayers after their death.

4*2

HISTOB.Y OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

766

Orleans.

767

Gentilly.

In this assembly, held, like the preced
ing, by Pepin, there was a discussion be
tween the Greeks and the Romans touching
the Trinity and the procession of the Holy
Ghost and images.

767

Bourges.

768
Saint Denis.
770
Worms.
771
Valen
ciennes.
772
Worms.
773
In Bavaria.
5 bishops,
13 abbots.
773
Geneva.
775
Duren.
776
Worms.

Many Saxons were baptized in this as
sembly.
777
Paderborn.

In this one also.
779
Duren.
These rules bear the title of capitularies,
but they are nevertheless canons of the ec
clesiastical assemblies held by Charlemagne.
Rules. — Bishops who are not ordained must
be so without delay. Churches cannot give
asylum to men condemned to death.
There are many other dispositions, but they
relate more to public police, than to ecclesi
astical discipline.
780
Near Lippe.

This council was occupied with the erec
tion of episcopal sees in Saxony, and the
construction of several churches.
782
Near Lippe,
or at
Cologne.
785
Paderborn.

Witikind was baptized.
786
Paderborn.

They occupied themselves with the affairs
of the church of Saxony.
786
Worms.
. 787
Worms.
783
Ingelheim.
1
i
CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

483

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

788

Narbonne.

790 792

794

797

799

799

Worms.
Ratisbon.

Francfort.

Aix-la-
Chapelle.

Aix-la-
Chapelle.
Ratisbon.

29 bishops,
Didier, the
pope's le
gate ; 3 en
voys from
bishops
and one
chanceUor.

The bishops
of Gaul,
Germany,
and Italy,
3 legates
from the
pope.

800 Tours. 12

This councU treated of the heresy of Felix,
bishop of Urgel, and the limits of the dio
cese of Narbonne. Under the date of 789,
there is a coUection of capitularies, given by
Charlemagne upon ecclesiastical discipline;
the councU of Soissons caUs them synodals ;
they are in a great Dart taken from Eastern
canons and the decrees of the popes. Charle
magne held that year an assembly at Aix la
ChapeUe. This councU condemned Felix, bishop of
Urgel, who said Jesus Christ was the adopted
son of God.
This council condemned for the third time,
Felix and Elpaud, archbishop of Toledo,
who held the same opinion as Felix. The
council 'rejected with anathema the doctrine
of the council of Constantinople upon the
worship of images, regarding it as idolatrous.
Rule. — The council ordered a maximum price
for the sale of goods, and ordered the new
money to be received. It forbids avaricious
ceUarers to be chosen in monasteries. Abbots
may not blind or mutilate their monks ; eccle
siastics and monks may not drink in an ale
house ; clerks of the king's chapel may not
communicate with clerks who are rebellious
to their bishop. Bishops may not absent them
selves from their diocese more than three weeks.
Bishops may not be ignorant of the canons
and the niles; they may not invoke new
saints ; the sacred woods must he destroyed.
This council was occupied with the subject
of the construction of the monastery of St.
Paul at Rome.
This council received the abjuration of
Felix. The date of this council is uncertain,
amongst other tilings it treats of the chor-
bishops or country-bishops. Traces of it
are only to be found in the cajitularies of
Charlemagne.

484

HISTORY OF

Date,

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

802

809

813

Place
uncertain. Worms.

Aix la
Chapelle

Aix la
ChapeUe.

Aries.

Nothing is left of these councUs and tbeir
date ; it is only known that they occupied
themselves as to the manner in which the
priests could purge themselves from the
crimes of which they were accused.

ig(nti) Ctnturo.

This councU was occupied with the reform
of monastic and ecclesiastical disciphne. All
who were present swore fidelity to the em
peror. This councU treated of the question of the
procession of the Holy Ghost which had
been raised by John, a Jerusalem monk ; he
sent a legation to the pope to have his deci
sion. The council was also occupied with disci
pline, but nothing was decided.
These five councUs of 813 were held by
order of Charlemagne, for the reform of eccle
siastical discipline ; much is repetition ; the
general intention was to oppose the igno
rance, grossness, and violence that pervaded
the clergy ; all recommend to the priests and
bishops retirement from the affairs of the
world, goodness and study, and interdicts
them avarice, &c.
These dispositions so often repeated in
several councils, aunounce the progress that
the secular spirit was making every day in
the clergy. There are also several questions
upon tithes, the observation of the Sabbath,
monastic discipUne, and the stability of eccle
siastics. These councUs recommend a great prepa
ration for communion, and seem to desire
that the laity should not communicate so
often. Rules. — The council orders that the bishops
shall carefuUy instruct the priests and the
people regarding baptism and the mysteries
of the faith.
They must preach not only in the towns,
but also in the parishes.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

485

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

813

Mayence.

30 bishops,
25 abbots.

813

813

Reims.

Tours.

813

Chalons.

Bishops must protect the poor against op
pression, and address themselves to the king
to procure the cessation of it.
It forbids the laity to receive money from
the priests to recommend them to benefices.
Rules. — The councU orders that powerful
persons, counts, bishops, &c, may only buy
the goods of the poor in pubUc,under pain of
nuUity. It prescribes rules for the canonical life
of the cl celts.
It forbids holding assemblies for temporal
affairs in the church.
It recommends the priests teaching the
people the Creed and the Lord's Prayer, at
least, in the vulgar tongue, if they cannot
learn them otherwise, and declares free the
clerks and the monks tonsured against their
wUl. Rules. — The councU forbids a priest to pass
from an inferior tide to a superior one ;
monks may not attend secular pleadings ; a
town or monastery may not have more ser
vants of God in it than it can well contain.
Rules. — The council recommends bishops
to read, and, if possible, to retain by heart the
gospel and the epistles of Saint Paul ; not to
give way to excesses at table ; not to amuse
themselves with games of actors, and to
exhort priests to fly them, and also the chase.
It forbids priests to give the communion,
indiscriminately, to aU those who attend mass.
It recommends aU the faithful, rich or poor,
to submit to the bishops,
This councU was occupied with the admi
nistration of penance, and it pronounces
anathemas against those penitential works
whose errors are certain, and the authors
uncertain. Their appreciation of sins was
very unequal. The council counts eight
sins, from which it is difficult to keep;
these are the deadly sins ; and hatred is com
prised therein. It is, without doubt, this
which makes the eighth.

486

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

814

I 814

816

Lyons.

Noyon.

Treves. Aix la
ChapeUe.

11 bishops,
8 abbots,
4 counts,
several of
the clergy.

Rules. — The council forbids bishops to
require a private oath from the .priests they
ordain. It forbids separating the serfs united
in marriage ; it condemns to penitence, but
does not separate from their husbands those
women who to gain this end have their chU
dren confirmed.
Some think that we ought to confess our
sins to God alone, others that we ought to
confess them to the priests ; both one and
the other are useful in the church of God.
The confession wliich is made to God
purges from sin; that made to the priest
teaches us how to purge ourselves of them,
for God is the author and the distributor of
health and salvation, and he accords much by
the invisible effect of his power, and much
by the action of the doctors.
The councU declares that confession ought
to be entire.
This councU named Agobard archbishop of
Lyons, in the place of Leidrade, who had re
tired in a monastery at Soissons.
This council, which was held by Wulfaire,
archbishop of Reims, and his suffragans, ter
minated a dispute about boundaries between
the bishops of Soissons and Noyon.
The date of this council, held by Hetton,
archbishop of Treves, is uncertain.
Rules. — This council, according to the order
of Louis le Debonnaire, made two regula
tions, one for the canons in 145 articles;
the other for the nuns in 28. Louis sent
copies of it to each metropolitan, with the
order to see them observed in their pro
vinces. These two rules are extracted from
the fathers and the councils, and contain
nothing of any importance except the grow
ing tendency to impose monastic life upon
the clergy. This rule of the canons differs
very slightly from that of a monastery.
Rules. — This rule given to the nuns, as
well as a multitude of canons at this epoch,
shows the difficulty the bishops had to reduce
them to the obedience they wished to impose

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

487

Place.

Present.

Aix la
ChapeUe. Aix-la-
Chapelle.

Vannes. Aix la
ChapeUe.
ThionviUe

Attigny.
Compiegne. Paris.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

on them; the foUowing dispositions recur
continually: Abbesses must submit to the bishops ;
abbesses may not go out without the per
mission of the bishop ; abbesses may not
give the veil, nor take upon themselves any
sacerdotal functions. We see, too, that
they had a great difficulty in making them
keep the cloister ; for the councUs frequently
forbid their receiving men, monks, or priests,
at forbidden hours, and without necessity.
This councU was composed of abbots aud
monks alone ; they only treated of monastic
discipline. This councU condemned several bishops
who had taken the part of his nephew Ber
nard against Louis le Debonnaire.

This council, held by the archbishops of
Mayence, Cologne, Treves, Reims, their suf
fragans, and the deputies of the other pro
vinces of Gaul, pronounced ecclesiastical
punishment and fines against those who
should be found guUty towards clerks.
It was in this council that Louis le Debon
naire submitted to do penance.
This councU was occupied with ecclesias
tical goods usurped by the laity. The legates
of pope Paschal were there.
This council was occupied about the worship
cf idols. The authors of the coUection re
gard as forged the acts which bear its
name, but have no knowledge of the real
acts. The councU was held on the occasio'
of two legates being sent on the same ques
tion to the pope by the emperor of the east.
The council also sent its acts by two legates
to the pope.
Rules. — The canons of this councU are
contained in three boeks. In the first, in

488

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, See.

thirty-four articles, the councU established
the distinction of the two powers, and placed
that of the priests much above that of the
kings. It announces to the clergy the ne
cessity of correcting themselves ; it insists
upon the right administration of baptism, and
the necessity of weU explaining the meaning of
it to the people ; it declares against simony,
against the avarice of the bishops, which it
endeavours to check, by renewing the ancient
dispositions as to the goods of the church ; it
also makes several rules which apply to
manners. It demands that two councUs be
held every year in each province, arid that
the priests, deacons, and aU those wlo are
aggrieved attend them.
The council assimUate the chor-bishops to
the seventy disciples of Jesus Christ, and
complain that they wish to assume the func
tions of a bishop.
The councU orders bishops to watch the
schools with care, and to summon the scholars
to the provincial councU. It interdicts com
merce, and the occupations of a farmer to
the priests and monks, and enjoins exact
residence to the bishops and priests. It
forbids bishops who are not in want to
take the fourth part of the offerings ; it
forbids priests to give the veil, and women
to take it themselves ; it complains bitterly
that women serve at the altar, and even give
to the people the body and blood of Jesus
Christ. It forbids, unless in a case of
absolute necessity, to say mass in houses
and gardens ; it forbids forcing the priests to
do so — at any rate, it cannot be done without
an altar consecrated by the bishop. It also
forbids celebrating mass without having any
one to respond.
The second book of the council treats of
the duties of kings. It is there declared that,
" No king ought to think he holds his king
dom from his ancestors, but from God." The
rest of the book treats of submission to the
king, the duties of Christians, and the respect
to be shown in churches, in thirteen articles.
The third book is a letter from the bishops
to the king, in which they give him an ao-

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

489

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

826 Ingelheim.

Paris.

829829 829829

830

Mayence. Lyon.
Toulouse. Worms.

Lyon.

831

count of all that has passed in the councU,
and indicate to him the rules they wish par
ticularly to be observed. Besides those we
have mentioned, they added others.
They demand that schools should be
founded in three places in the empire,
that the efforts of his father and his own
should not perish by negligence. They
demand that he send from the palace a crowd
of priests and monks, who reside there in
spite of their bishops. They complain against
the custom of celebrating Service on holy
days in the chapels of the palace . In short,
they give the king several counsels, in
whioh the tone is very different to the habits
of respect the bishops had contracted with
Charlemagne. This council was occupied with the affairs
of the church. Louis le Debonnaire received
there the envoys from the pope, and from
the Holy Land.
Louis le Debonnaire convoked these councils
of Paris, Mayence, Lyons, «nd ToiUouse,
which were held the same year, 829. He
indicated the bishops who should compose
it, the questions to be treated* and the capitu
laries, they should adopt. Of these councUs
we have only that of Paris. - It is probable
that they much resembled each other.

Nimeguen.

7 bishops,
2 chor-
bishops,
13 abbots,
priests, or
deacons,
14 proxies.

This councU confirmed the resolutions
of the four preceding ones.
The synod confirmed the donation that had
been made to the monastery of Saint Pierre
de Bezon by Alberic, bishop of Langres.

This assembly deposed Jesse, bishop of
Amiens, who had taken part against Louis le
Debonnaire.

490

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, See.

834

834

835

835

836

Worms.

Compiegne.

Saint
Denis.
Attigny.

Metz.

Thionville.

Aix la
ChapeUe.

26 bishops,
5 abbots.

43 bishops.

Alderic, archbishop of Sens, permitted in
this eouncU, that the abbey of Saint Remy
should be removed.
This assembly deprived Louis le Debon
naire of the crown.
This assembly again admitted Louis to the
communion and the empire.
This assembly was occupied with the bad
state of the church. The bishops referred
to lay judges the decision of a question
of marriage, reserving for themselves the
power of applying a penance, if it must take
place. Louis complained in this council of Ebbon,
archbishop of Reims, who had excommuni
cated him. Ebbon chose judges from amongst
the bishops according to the African canons.
Louis again received absolution in this
councU. Ebbon was condemned, and abdi
cated. This council was assembled by the order of
Louis le Debonnaire, to deliberate upon three
objects which form the matter of its three
books : 1st, the lives of the bishops, twelve
articles; 2nd, the doctrine of the bishops, twelve
articles, and the doctrine and Uves of the
inferior orders of the clergy, sixteen articles ;
lastly, 3rd, the person of the king, his chil
dren, and his servants, twenty-five articles.
The last articles of this book have, however,
no direct connexion with its title, and are
general dispositions. The council also ad
dressed to Pepin, king of Aquitaine, a treatise,
in three booKs, in which it confirmed, by the
authority of the Scriptures, the things it had
ordered. The first book has thirty-eight
articles ; the second, thirty one ; the third,
twenty-seven. They are all citations, nar
rations, and reflections, and contain no posi
tive disposition. As to the canons, they are
only the repetition of the preceding councUs.
The third book, that part which relates

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

491

Date. Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

836

Cremieu, in the
Lyonnais.

Chalons.

841

842

Auxerre.

Bourges.

2© bishops,
4 abbots.

to the king, and to several other points, is
the copy, sometimes abridged, of the third
book of the sixth councU of Paris.
Rules. — The councU recommends to the
priests to watch that the faithful who are
confided to them be baptized and confirmed,
know the Creed and the Lord's prayer, and how
they ought to conduct themselves ; and that
they be corrected of their faults as they ought,
and do not die without confession, sacerdotal
prayers, and extreme unction.
It recommends that there should not be in
the monasteries for* women dark places and
corners, where they can offend God without
being seen.
It recommends that, where it is possible,
every church have its priest, who wUl govern
it himself, or under the conduct of a priest
of superior grade.
It forbids fasting, marrying, and pleading
on Sunday.
It recommends communion every Sunday.
Agobard, archbishop of Lyons, and Bernard,
bishop of Vienne, had been deposed by the
councU of Thionville for having deposed
Louis le Debonnaire. This council was
assembled to judge them, but nothing could
be decided, on account of their absence. They
were at last restored to grace.
This assembly regidated the affairs of the
church and the state.
In 841, an assembly was held at Ingel-
heim, at which twenty bishops assisted, and
several of the clergy ; by the order of Lo
thaire, then emperor, it returned to Ebbon
the see of Reims, from which he had been
deposed. This assembly ordered a fast of three days
on the occasion of the battle which had just
taken place at Fontenay.
This councU, held by the partisans of
Charles le Chauve, approved the deposition of
Ebbon.

492

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

843

Toulouse.

843

844

844

Coulaine.

Loire, in
Anjou.

ThionviUe.

844

Vern.

Nothing remains of this assembly but the
capitularies of Charles le Chauve. We can
easUy perceive that they were given at
the solicitations of simple priests ; they are
only given while awaiting a general councU.
Rules. — The bishops must not take it Ul if
the priests lay claims before the king ; they
must not insist upon a too strong protesta
tion from the priests ; they must not demand
it when they are not making the visit of their
diocese, and they must only demand it once
when they visit it twice ; they must not
divide the parishes to receive double ; they
must not constrain the priests to attend more
than twice a-year at the councUs.
This assembly was held by Charles le
Chauve ; the capitularies which remain recom
mend the observance of the duties towards
God and the royal power ; they offer nothing

The canons of this councU are to the
same effect as the preceding ; it appears that
they relate to the rebeUion of Count Lam
bert. This assembly was presided over by Droyon,
bishop of Metz ; it was held in the place
called the Judgment Seat.
The three sons of Louis le Debonnaire
here made peace, and passed several capi
tularies, which had for their object to order
the affairs of the church.
Rules. — Bishops must he ordained for the
vacant sees, and those who have lost theirs
must take them again.
The monasteries confided to the laity must
be given in charge to religious persons, male
or female.
Ecclesiastical property must not be in
vaded. This council had nearly the same aim as
the preceding one ; it was presided over by
Ebroin, bishop of Poitiers.
Rules. — Send persons to chastise those
who contemn the divine and human laws ; let

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

49S

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

845

845

Bauvais.

Meaux

846

846 or
rather 847

Vannes.

Paris.

20 bishops,
5 abbots.

reUgious men visit the monasteries, to inquire
into the relaxation of discipline.
Clerks and monks who have deserted must
be returned to their churches and convents.
Ecclesiastical goods must be returned ; the
chur-ches must be provided with pastors.
Those bishops who do not go to war, whe
ther it be on account of the feebleness of their
body, or by the indulgence of the king, must
confide their men to one of the faithful, that
the miUtary service may not suffer by it.
Kings and bishops may not reside long
with the bishops ; and they must not oppose
themselves to the holding of the provincial
councils. No novelty must be adopted in the explana
tion of the Scriptures.
Bishops must have some one to instruct
the country priests.
Laymen must not employ the priests of the
church in the care of their farms.
The king may not take canons into his ser
vice without the consent of the bishops.
Do not demand from the priests UUcit
tributes upon the tithes and the goods of the
church. This councU was held by Charles le Chauve
and his bishops ; it is for the same end as
the two others.
This council repeated and confirmed the
canons of the preceding councils ; it made a
great many new ones, of which several re
peated ancient dispositions ; all are in the
same spirit as the three preceding ones : eccle
siastical reform and the restitution of goods
and immunities.
Nomenoe, prince of Brittany, after having
expelled several bishops, named others,
augmented the number of sees, assembled
the bishops on his side, and had himself
crowned king.
This councU forbade Ebbon the diocese of
Reims, until he submitted to his judgment
about which the pope was occupied. They

494

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

847 Mayence.

848

848

848

849

13 bishops,
many of
the clergy.

Mayence.

Lyon.

Limoges.

Chartres.

Kiersy.

16 bishops,
3 abbots,
several of
the clergy.

terminated what they could not finish at the
council of Meaux.
Rules. — The prince must give to thebishops,
powers signed with his seal, that when they
need civil authority, they can so accomplish
their divine ministry.
Royal chapels must not be confided to lay
men, but to ecclesiastics.
Raban, archbishop of Mayence, held this
councU with his suffragans and their clergy ;
the council was occupied with discipline, and
reclaimed the rights and immunities of the
church. It condemned a prophetess, named
Thiota, who announced the end of the world,
and denounced the ecclesiastical orders.
Rules. — No penance shall be imposed
on the dying, but they must be contented
with their confession, and the alms and
prayers of their friends, and they must give
them the viatic, and pray for them ; if they
get weU, they must submit to the penance.
The council grants Christian interment and
the prayers of the church to criminals exe
cuting, after they have confessed.
This council condemned the monk Gotts
chalk, who maintained the doctrine of predes
tination ; Raban presided at the councU ;
Gottschalk was sent to Hincmar, archbishop
of Reims.
This councU was occupied with the affair
of a priest, named Goldegaire ; it offers no
thing interesting.
This council grants the demand of the
canons of the church of Saint Martin, who
desired to be made monks. The bishop of
Limoges consented with reluctance.
Charles, brother of Pepin, demanded and
received the tonsure in this councU.
This council condemned Gottschalk again,
had him beaten with rods, and put in prison.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

495

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

850851852 852

853

853

Paris, ac
cording to
some,
Tours.
Moret.
Soissons. Mayence.
Sens, date
uncertain. Sens.

Soissons.

22 bishops.

13 bishops,
2 abbots.

27 bishops,
6 abbots,
several of
the clergy.

853

833

Kiersy

Vermcnc.

22 bishops.

This councU was held at the invitation of
Lantraun, archbishop of Tours, on the sub
ject of Nomenoe, and addressed him a letter
of reproach, in wliich it menaced him with
excommunication. Pepin, king of Aquitaine, was in this
council deposed and tonsured.
This council confirmed the privUeges of the
monastery of Saint Remy.
This council refused to consecrate bishop
of Chartres, Burchard, recommended by
Charles le Chauve, but who was unworthy
of it.
This council admitted Burchard to the epis
copacy; it was occupied in supplying the
wants of several churches ; on points of
general discipline, and ordinations made by
Ebbon, predecessor of Hincmar, at Reims ;
they were annulled. Charles le Chauve con
sulted the council upon the instructions that
he should give to his envoys, ; they were ap
proved. Rules. — Instructions oi Cnaries le Gnauve.
Om envoys must take care, how the lords
take it ill, when the bishops or their servants
strike their serfs with their rods, to correct
them ; they must know that then they wUl
be submitted to our ban and to a rigorous
chastisement. Our faithful must know that we have de
clared to the synod, that what we should
grant of the goods of the church to an
unreasonable demand, were it to a bishop or
to an abbot, wUl not avail ; they must then
take care not to make such demands.
This councU made four canons against
Gottschalk, and excommunicated again a
nobleman, named Fulcre, who had left his
wife to espouse another.
This council looked to the affairs of many
churches.

496

HISTORY OF

| Date. | Place.
' ftrV,

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &o.

850 Valence-

807 857808 808859

Kiersy.
Mayence. Kiersy.
Soissons. Metz.

859 , Langres.

18 bishops
and many
of the
clergy.

The arch
bishop of
Rouen and
his suffra
gans, the
suffragans of Reims.

6 bishops,
3 arch
bishops. 2 arch
bishops, many
bishops.

This council made many canons about pre
destination, and about particular interests
and objects of discipline. It was favourable
to Gottschalk.
Rules  That the bishops take care not to
ordain persons unworthy of the ministry.
The councU blamed the custom of taking
the oath, in judicial proceedings, because it
necessarily led to perjury. It blamed also
the judgment by battle, and refused to those
who were slain Christian burial. It recom-o
mended the erection of schools of science,
divine, humane, and for church singing,
seeing that the long interruption of study,
ignorance of the faith, and the neglect of aU
sciences, had invaded many of the churches
of God.
That there is nothing reprehensible in the
priests' service towards the bishops.
This councU was held for ecclesiastical
reform, and convoked by Charles le Chauve.
This council discussed questions concern
ing ecclesiastical law.
This council addressed to Louis le Ger
manique, who was invading the states of
Charles le Chauve, a letter of advice and re
proach.

This council was held by order of Louis le
Germanique, who had entered Gaul, sword in
hand. This council occupied itself with the quar
rels of Louis and Charles.
Rules. — This council made 16 canons,
which were confirmed at the council of Toul
or Savoniereo and which are only found
there. The six first confirmed the canons of the
council of Valence in favour of Gottschalk.
The twelfth canon recommended that eacn
congregation have a superior of its order.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

497

Date

859859

860
I 860860 860860 861 862 862 862

862

862

862

Place.

Present.

Langres. Toul.

Aix la
ChapeUe. Aix la
ChapeUe.
Coblentz.

Toul ou Sa
vonieres. Toul ou
Tusey.
Soissons. Sens.

Aix la-Cha-
pelle:
Sablonieres

Pitres.

Soissons.

Soissons.

8 bishop^.
The bishops
of twelve
provinces.

7 bishops.
2 abbots,
1 0 bishops,
and many
of the laity.
40 bishops
from 14
provinces.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

8 bishops.

37 bishops,
11 abbots,
many eccle
siastics.

This councU occupied itself with the peace
between Louis, and Charles ; with the com
plaints of Charles against many bishops ;
with the Breton bishops, and points of disci
pline. These two councils were held for the divorce
of Lothaire and Teutberge, at a month apart :
they pronounced the divorce.
This council occupied itself with the peace
between the kings; they here made a, treaty.

This councU made some canons about dis
cipUne. This councU occupied itself about the affair
of Ingeltrude, wife of count Boson, who had
quitted her.
Hincmar excommunicated in this provin
cial synod, Rothade, bishop of Soissons.
It is not known precisely where this coun
cU was held, which deposed Heriman, bishop
of Nevers.
This council permitted Lothaire the second '
to espouse another wife than Teutberge. I
This council occupied itself with the accusa
tion brought against Lothaire II., protect
ing Ingeltrude and Judith, the daughter of
Charles le Chauve, who, without his consent,
had espoused the count Baudouin.
This councU confirmed the privileges of
many monasteries, and took many measures
to re-estabUsh the order in the state and
church. This councU occupied itself about the affair
of Judith.
This council occupied itself about the affair
of Rothade, who, in the council of Pitres, had
appealed to the pope ; he was deposed.

VOL. II.

K K

493

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place. I Present.

863 Senlis.
1 I
863 Metz.

803

863

860

808

869

Place uncer
tain in
Aquitaine. Vennerie.

Soissons.

Troyes.

I 869

Place un
certain.

Worms.

Vei-merite.

35 bishops.

20 bishops
of 6 pro
vinces.

Bishops of
Gaul and
Bourgoyne

29 bishops.

Metz.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

According to Pagi, this councU is the same
as the preceding.
This council, composed of bishops of the
kingdom of Lothaire, approved his divorce;
the pope annulled the judgment, and excom
municated the bishops.
This council excommunicated Etienne,
count of Auvergne ; it was held by order
of pope Nicholas, who had some legates
here. This council occupied itself about the ab
bey of Saint Calais, which the bishop of
Mans claimed as under his jurisdiction; it
pronounced in favour of the abbey.
This council was held by order of Pope
Nicholas, who, after having ordained that it
should restore to Rothade his bishopric,
wished to do the same for Wulfade and the
clerks ordained by Ebbon, since his deposi
tion by Hincmar : it did as he desired.
Hincmar was attacked in this council by
some bishops who wished to please the king ;
however, he finished by prevailing, and made
it give an account to the pope of aU that had
passed, as he had ordered. Pope Adrian wrote
to this council that it should consecrate no
other bishops than such as should be named
by the emperor ; the bishops refused.
This council was occupied about discipline.

Hincmar, bishop of Laon, and nephew of
Hincmar, archbishop of Reims, accused be
fore this council, by Charles le Chauve, and
by his uncle, of having made some unjust
excommunications, faUed in his oaths to the
king, and unjustly deprived some clerks of
their benefices ; he appealed to the pope.
This council gave to Charles le Chauve the

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

499

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

860 870

870871

873

873

873

874

875

876

Pitres.
Attigny.

Cologne.
Douzy-les- Pres.

Chalons.

Cologne.

Senlis.

Douzy-les- Pres.

12 bishops.
Bishops of
10 pro
vinces.
22 bishops,
8 envoys of
bishops, 8
ecclesias tics.
5 bishops,
1 rural
bishop,many ofthe clergy.
11 bishops,
5 priests,
1 deacon.
Bishops of
two pro
vinces.

Chalons. 46 bishops.

Pontion.

2 legates,
5 bishops,
3 abbots.

1

K K 2

kingdom of his nephew Lothaire, who had
died in Italy.
Hincmar, bishop of Laon, again accused,
again appealed to the pope.
This council treated of discipline.
This councU deposed the bishop of Laon.

This councU was occupied with a discus
sion between two churches of Chalons.

This council confirmed the privileges ac
corded to the prebendaries of the cathedral
of Cologne.
This council, convoked by Charles le Chauve,
degraded from the order of deacon, his son,
Carloman. This council was occupied with forbidden
marriages, and the invasion of church pro
perty. This council confirmed the privUeges of the
monastery of Tournus.
This council was held a little after the
coronation of Charles le Chauve, as emperor,
it confirmed the acts of the councU which
ke had held at Pavia, just before.
Capitularies ofthe council of Pontion. — That
the Holy Roman church be honoured and
revered by aU, as the mother of all churches,
and that no one dare to act unjustly against
her right and power, and that she have power,
and fitting strength to show towards the uni
versal church a pastoral solicitude, and to
invoke for all, by her holy prayers, the Author
of all things.
And that respect be paid by all towards the
lord John, our spiritual father, sovereign
pontiff, and universal pope ; that all receive,
with great veneration, the things that, ae-

500

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

878

878

879

881

In Neustria.

Troyes.

Pope John,
and 29
bishops.

Mantaille in the
Viennoise. Fimes.

Toulouse.

29 bishops.

The bishops
of Septima-
nia and
Aquitaine.

cording to his sacred ministry, he has decided
in his apostolic authority, and that we render
to him, in aU things, the obedience which is
his due.
That the imperial dignity be respected by
all, and that no one disobey with impunity
that which the emperor shall ordain, by
letters or by messages.
The Capitularies enact : That the bishops
lead, with their clerks, a canonical life ; that
they treat the counts and vassals of the king
as sons, and that these shall honour them as
fathers ; that the bishops shaU have the
authority of the missi dominici; that the
bishops and the counts, in their circuits,
shall not lodge at the houses of the poor,
unless invited.
This council, presided over by Hincmar,
received the complaints of the emperor Louis
III. agamst the devastations that had been
committed in his states by Hugues, the son
of Lothaire IL, and Waldrade ; the council
menaced Hugues with excommunication.
This councU excommunicated, by command
of pope John, Lambert, duke of Spoleto,
Adalbert, Formoso, bishop of Porto, and
their partizans. It heard the complaint of
Hincmar, bishop of Laon; confirmed many
privileges, and made many canons. It ex
communicated also those who invaded the
property of the churches.
The pope here crowned Louis le Begue.
This council, composed of bishops and
grandees of the kingdom of Aries, gave to
Boson the title of king.
This councU was held in the church of St.
Macre, in a place now named Fimes, and
which is between the diocese of Reims and
Soissons ; the council occupied itself with
discipline and ecclesiastical reforms.
The account of this council is found in
the life of Saint Theodard, archbishop of
Narbonne; being curious as a picture of
manners, we give an extract, while agreeing

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

501

Date.

Place.

Present'.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

with father Labbe, that its authenticity is
doubtful :
" The Jews of Toulouse complained to
king Carloman of the injuries that they suf
fered from the bishop and people of this
town, who, three times a year, beat and mal
treated one of them ; the affair was referred to a
council of bishops of Septimania and Aqui
taine ; the discussion was opened there ; the
Jews complaining of the' injustice of the
treatment they suffered, the Christians caUing
it a just chastisement.
"Then Theodard, who was very young,
with the permission of the bishop of Tou
louse, spoke, and produced two acts, one of
Charlemagne, the other of Louis le Debon
naire, which established that the Jews of
Toulouse, having caUed Abderrahman to
France, Charles had only allowed them their
Uves, upon the condition that, on Christmas-
day, Good Friday, and Ascension-day, one
of them shoiUd receive before the door of the
church a beating from the hand of a no
table, and make an offering of three pounds
of wax.
" The bishops having heard these things,
and being consulted by the duke, cried out,
' Far be it from us to oppose anything to this
just and equitable decision of the king.'

' " The discussion between Theodard and the
Jews continued and warmed. The Jews pro
nounced against Jesus Christ such blasphe
mies, that the duke, furious, menaced them
with the last extremities ; then they threw
themselves at the feet of the bishop, entreat
ing him to obtain their pardon from the duke,
in such a manner, that, remaining subject to
the torture the emperor had decreed for them,
they might Uve in peace and safety.
" The duke consented, after some resistance,
but adding the following condition, suggested
by Theodard ; that the Jew who was to be
scourged, before being struck, should declare,
in a loud voice, before all the assembly : ' It is
just that the heads of the Jews should be sub
mitted to the blows of the Christians ; because
they would not submit to Jesus of Nazareth,
Lord of lords, and King of kings.' If the Jew

302 '

HISTORY OF

Date. Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

8S0

Chalons.

Near Port
Kimes.

Cologne.

Saint-Mau rice.

Mayence .

9 bishops and a
chancellor. 19 bishops

5 bishops,
4 abbots,
some clerks
and some o:
the laity.
Bishops and
grandees.
The arch
bishop of

refused this, then he should be struck Seven
times, that it might be accomplished which j
was written in theii- law : I will punish you
sevenfold, lifting up myself against you.
" The bishops approved of this, the duke
added it, and the king confirmed it."
This council confirmed the privUeges of
many churches.
Theodard, archbishop of Narbonne, held this
council against Selva, a Spanish clerk, who
had ordained himself archbishop of Tarra
gona contrary to the canons, and had ordained,
in spite of Theodard, Eumiza to be bishop of
Gerona ; they were both deposed, and their
episcopal vestments torn off them ; they had
the rings taken from their fingers, and their
pastoral staffs broken over their heads.
This councU made many canons against
those who took possession of church pro
perty, those who oppressed the poor, and
those who contracted forbidden marriages.
This councU elected for king of Transjuran
Burgundy, and crowned Rodolph, the son
of Conrad the Second.
This council was held the first year of the
reign of Arnold, with the object of reforming

Mayence, of the discipline, and repairing the disorders

Cologne, of
Treves, and
their suffra
gans.

occasioned by the invasions of the Normans
Rules. — The council forbids that for the
future the priests should have any women in
their house, even their own sister, on account
of the disorders resulting therefrom.
It forbids that a clerk of an inferior order
should accuse a clerk of an order superior to
his own; it regulates how many witnesses
should be required for judgment : for a
bishop, 72 ; a priest-cardinal, 40 ; a deacon-
cardinal, of Rome, 26; a sub-deacon, an
acolyte, 7. That the witnesses should be
men of good repute, having wife and chil
dren. This canon is taken from the councU
of Rome.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

503

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, Ace.

8S8

890

890

891

892

Metz.

Saint
Jangoul.

Valence.

Worms

Mehun-sur- Loire.

Vienne.

4 bishops
of Belgium,
1 abbot,
clerks, laity,

4 bishops,
abbots,
6 counts.

Bishops and
grandees ofthe
kingdom of Aries.
The arch
bishop of
Reims, his
suffragans, the arch
bishops of
Cologne
and Ham
burg, many
neighbour
ing bishops.
16 bishops.

The bishops
of the king
dom of
Aries, 2
legates.

That the witnesses should be at least four
teen years of age.
This councU ordered a fast of three days
and solemn prayers, to obtain peace and the
retreat of the Normans.
Rules. — That no lord shaU receive anything
of the tithes of his church, and that the priest
who serves the church shall take them wholly
for the divine office.
That a priest shaU have only one church ;
unless his own have been joined from all
antiquity to a chapel which may not be sepa
rated from it.
This assembly (placiium) was occupied
by the order of the queen Ermengarde, widow
of Boson, with a complaint of the monks of
Guiny against a certain Bernard, who had
seized some of their property
This councU made Louis, son of Boson,
king.

This council occupied itself with the quar
rel of the archbishops of Cologne and Ham
burg, who were disputing for the church of
Bremen. It was held by order of the pope
Formosus.

This council decided, that no one should
be elected abbo* >f St. Pierre de Sens but by
the brethren.
Rules. — Let laymen who have killed,
mutilated, maimed, dishonoured a priest,
do penance, and seek to amend them
selves. That no one possess himself fraudulently

504

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, See.

893
i 894
i' 393
I
Ij

Reims.

Chalons.

Tribur.

4 bishops.

22 bishops.

of the alms of a dying or sick bishop or
priest. That laymen neither give or dispose of
churches without the consent of the bishops
on which they are dependent, and that they
exact no tribute, under form of gift, of priests,
at their entry upon churches ; that they ex
tort from them nothing by violence.
Foulques, archbishop of Reims, crowned
in this councU Charles le Simple, competi
tor of Eudes.
This councU admits to the proof of the
communion a priest accused of having
poisoned the bishop of Autun.
This council, composed almost entirely of
German bishops, occupied itself with eccle
siastical reform, by order of king Arnould.
Rules. — That the Wehrgeld, given for the
death of a priest, be divided into three parts —
one for the church, the other for his bishop,
the third for his parents.
It is a sacrilege, calling for penance, to
enter a church with a sword unsheathed.
If a bishop in his progress has fixed for
the canonical assembly the same day that the
count, wittingly or unwittingly, has fixed
upon for holding his court, let all, including
the count himself, leave the court to attend
the bishop's assembly; but if the bishop in
his own town and the count have named
the same day for their respective assembly,
let him who first named the day have the
preference, always saving the dignity and
power of the bishop. Any priest who, even
under compulsion, has committed homicide,
shall be deposed.
When necessity requires it, persons may be
buried out of the parish appertaining to the
cathedral church; in such cases, let the
parish be selected in which the person has
paid tithe. It is a frightful thing, and here
by interdicted, to claim any money for the
ground in which a person is buried.
That none of the laity be buried in the
churches. That in a quarrel between a lay. '

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

505

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

man and a priest, the layman be interrogated
by oath, tbe priest by the communion, be
cause the priest ought not to swear.
In memory of the blessed Peter the Apostle,
we honour the holy apostolical seat of Rome,
in such manner that this church, mother of
the sacerdotal dignity, is for us the mistress
of ecclesiastical right.
If, then, which may God prevent, some
priest working against our ministry, being
accused to us of having brought a forged
letter from the apostohc seat, or anything that
could not thence, that it may be in the
power of the bishop to keep him in prison
until, hy letters or message, he has called
upon his apostolic sublimity to explain, by a
worthy legate, the rules of the Roman law,
and that which we ought to do to conform to
it. If a church is the property of many cohe-
ritors, let them agree among themselves, that
the service of God shall not suffer; but if, in
place of this, they do not agree in the choice
of a priest, and that quarrels happen between
themselves, or between the priests, let the
bishop take the reUc from the church, shut
and seal the door with his seal, in order
that they may not celebrate any office until
they shaU have provided themselves with a
priest worthy to take care of the holy place,
and procure the salvation of the people of
God. The count is not allowed to force any
penitent to plead.
That whoever has committed adultery with
a woman, cannot marry her.
If a husband, dishonoured by his wife,
wishes to kUl her, and she flies to the bishop,
he should endeavour to dissuade the hus
band from his project, and if he does not
succeed, he ought not to deliver her up to be
killed, but to put her carefully in a place
chosen by herself, where she can live safely.
If persons who live in adultery make to
themselves mutual donations, let it serve
for their child, but they shall have nothing
in common when they separate.
The council makes many other canons re-

596

HISTORY OF

Date. Place.

Present.

Object ofthe CouncU, Rules, &c.

Uncer tain
date.

Nantes.

garding illegal marriages, and penitential

This councU occupied itself with discipline,
We are ignorant of its date; its third and
tenth canons are transcribed from the seventh
book of the capitularies collected by Benedict
Diacre. Sirmond does not think it impos
sible that the canons belong to the grand
council held at Nantes in 658, which Fro
doard mentions.
We have left them in the place that Labbe
assigned to them.
Rules. — That the priests before celebrating
mass, Sundays and fete days, interrogate the
people if there is any one from another parish,
in spite of his own priest ; send him from
the mass, and obUge him to go to his own
parish : if he finds persons engaged in ran
corous quarrels, let him reconcUe them.
The council excepts from the obligation of
attending mass in their parish those who are
travelling, or pleading. That the priests be
aware that the tithes and offerings are the
revenue of the poor and strangers, and that
they are not given to them, but only con
fided to them, and for them to render an ac
count thereof to God.
The councU orders that before making an
ordination, the bishop assemble the priests
and prudent men, versed in the law of God,
and question them on the life, the birth, the
countiy, the age, and education of those
who are to be ordained, the place where they
have been instructed, if they are learned, if
they know the law of the Lord, above aU, if
they are of the cathoUc faith. The councU
occupies itself afterwards with confraterni
ties, confines them to objects which relate
to salvation, to offerings, to keeping in re
pair the church lights, and the monthly
prayers, the alms, the funerals, and other
pious objects. It recommends, when meet
ings are necessary, and that a repast foUows,
it should be modest and frugal, and that aU
should be orderly. Priests and the laity
met in these confraternities. The councU
complain of women speaking of pubUc affairs.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

507

Date. Plaee. 1 Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

at pubUc assembUes, .unless with the permis

sion of their bishop, and for their affairs, or
commanded by him.
The councU recommend to the bishops and
priests, to strive to aboUsh the pagan super
stitions.
897
Port, in the
4 bishops ;
This councU ordered the bishop of Mague
Nimois.
8 ecclesi
lonne to restore to the church of St. John the
astics.
Baptist the domains that he had awarded to
the church of St. Andrew.
®entf) (STtntutD.
900
Reims.
12 bishops.
This council excommunicated the murderers
of the archbishop Foulques.
906
Barcelona.
8 bishops.
Although this council took place in Spain,
we give it here because it was composed ,
of suffragans from Narbonne ; discussed the
rights of this metropolis, and that the follow
ing one, upon the same affair, was held in
France, and that, at this epoch, the count
Vico of Barcelona was a fief of France.
This council agitated the question whether
the church of Osona, at present, belonged to
Narbonne.
907
SaintTiberi,
10 bishops.
This council freed the church of Osona
in the
from all dependence and service towards the
diocese of
church of Narbonne : Aurnste, archbishop of
Agde.
Narbonne, agreed to it.
909
Jonquieres,
11 bishops.
This council gave absolution and benedic
diocese of
tion to count Suniaire and all his famUy.
Mague
lonne.
919
Troli, in the
12 bishops.
This council occupied itself with eccle
Soissonnais.
siastical reform ; it cited frequently the capi
tularies and decrees of the popes ; it finished
its session by a profession of its faith, upon
advices from Rome that the Greek heresy,
regarding the procession of the Holy Spirit,
was still alive in the East.
Rules.  This councU complained of the
state of the monastic orders ; a great number
of monasteries have been destroyed by the
•
pagans ; in the monasteries of men or
508

HISTORY OF

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

911

1)12

I

Fontaine
Couverte, near
Narbonne. Tours.

The arch
bishop of
Tours and
his suf
fragans.

women dweU lay abbots, with their wives,
their children, their soldiers, and their dogs ;
and if one presents the rules to them, they
reply, as Isaiah, " I know not how to read."
The councU extends to all products the
obligation to pay tithe.
Some, perhaps, may say, I am not a la
bourer, I have neither land or flocks for which
I can give tithe ; let every one know, be
he a military man, a merchant, or artisan,
that the source from whence he draws his
living comes from God, and to him he ought
to give tithe.
The council attributes to the non-payment
of tithes, the devastations of pagans and bad
seasons. The councU prohibits, according to the
capitularies, secret marriages, from which
result many disorders, which give birth to the
bUnd, the lame, the deformed, &c. ; it is
necessary that the priest who performs the
marriage interrogate the parties, to ascertain
if the woman is a relation of her future hus
band, or spouse of another, or adulteress.
The council requires the oath of seven
witnesses to convict a priest of having lived
with a woman ; if these fail, he can justify
himself by his sole oath.
The councU renews a canon of the councU
of Valencia, in Spain, which forbids the
parents of a bishop dying without a will to
take possession of his property before the
ordination of his successor, or the consent of
the metropoUtan, for fear that they possess
themselves at the same time of things belong
ing to the church.
This councU occupied itself with a quarrel
between the bishops of Urgel and of PaUarie,
on a question of boundary.
This council decided that the festival of the
translation of the remains of St. Martin
should be celebrated.
One finds at this epoch, the canons of
Gautier, archbishop of Sens : ConstitutioD.es
ex concilio Gdlteri, archiepiscopi Senonenei ;

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE

509

Date

Place

915 } Chalons. 7 bishops.

Present.

921

922

923

924

926

927

Troli.

Coblentz.

8 bishops ;
many
clergy.

Place not
known, in
the Eerno is.

Charlieu.

Troli

The arch
bishop of
Reims, and
his suf
fragans
Bishops ;
many
counts.
3 bishops.

6 bishops.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &c.

this appears to indicate that he held a coun
cil, but we have no other indications ; these
canons of discipline are not important.
This councU occupied itself with discipline,
and received restitution of the goods of the
church, which had been usurped by Rodolph,
Count of Macon, alarmed with a menace
of excommunication.
This council gave absolution to Count Er-
lebald, who had died excommunicated.
This council, at which Charles le Simple
and Henry L'Oiseleur were present, made
many canons of discipline.
Rules. — If the laity have chapels, it is
against law and reason that they receive
tithes and nourish with it their dogs and their
mistresses ; it is better that the priests should
receive it.
It is asked, what ought to be done with one
who has seduced and sold a Christian ; we
are of opinion he is guUty of homicide.
Let a layman who wishes to give away his
property know that he cannot give away the
tithes of the church where it is situated ; if he
does so, the act wUl be nuU, and he will be
himself under the censure of the church.
This councU imposed a penance on those
who were at the battle of Soissons, between
Charles le} Simple and king Robert.

1

Etienne, bishop of Cambray, received at this
council satisfaction from Count Isaac ; he gave
him absolution.
This synod restored to the monastery of
Charlieu, ten churches which had been taken
from it.
This council, convoked by order of Count
Heribert, whose son aged five years had been
elected archbishop of Reims, was held in
despite of king Raoul, and admitted to'penance

;:o

HISTORY (Jf

Bate.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules &c

927

932

933

935

941

942 or
943

943944

947

Duisberg.

Erfurt.

Chateau- Thierry. Fismes.

Soissons.

Bonn.

Binden in
Germany.
Trenorch, or
Tourneux.

At Fontaine.
diocese o'f
Elne, in
Roussillon.

Verdun.

13 bishops ;
many
clergy.

count Herlnin, who had remarried during the
Ufe of his wife.
This council excommunicated those who
had blinded Bruno, bishop of Metz.
This council prohibits caUing a Law Court
seven days before Christmas, fifteen before
Easter, seven before Saint John, in order j
that aU have the f acUity of going to church
to pray. It prohibits imposing extraordinary
fasts. This councU consecrated the bishop of
Beauvais.

7 bishops.

This councU anathematised those
usurped the goods of the church.

who

The suf- This councU decided in favour of Hugues,
fragans of son of Heribert, against Hartaud, who pre-
the diocese tended also to the archbishopric of Reims ;
of Reims, the bishops went to Reims and consecrated
him there.
We are ignorant of the positive date of this
council, or if two were held consecutively;
there is nothing remaining of them.
There is no account of this councU.
Convoked by order of Duke Gilbert ; this
qpuncil decided, that the relics which had
been transported from the monastery of Tre
norch to that of St. Porcien in Auvergne,
should be returned.
This councU deposed, hy order of Pope
Agapetus, and restored immediately the
bishops of Gerona and Urgel; it granted
to the bishop of Elne the highest rank, after
the archbishop of Narbonne. (The see of
Elne has been since transferred to Perpi-
gnan.) This councU adjudged to Artaud the see of
many i Reims.
abbots.

22 bishops,

7 bishops ;
many
clergy.

CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE.

sis

Date, j

Place.

Present.

Object of the Council, Rules, &c.

948

948

952

953

955

372

Ingelheim.

Laon.

Treves.

Augsburg.

Saint
Thierry, in
the Remois.
The place
uncertain,
upon the
confines of
Burgundy. Upon the
Marne, near
Meaux.

Mount Saint
Mary, in

Mouson,
archbishop of Treves,
and his

some
bishops of
the diocese
of Reims.
31 bishops.

5 bishops,
1 legate.

25 bishops.

3 bishops.

13 bishops.

The arch
bishop of
Reims and

This council adjudged anew the see of
Reims to Artaud, and interdicted the com
munion to Hugues, until the general council
convoked for the month of August.

This council confirmed that which the pre
ceding had done, and excommunicated the
Count Hugues, for having driven from his
see the bishop of Laon. It also made many
canons of discipline.
This councU cited, by letters of Marin, the
pope's legate, the Count Hugues to repent -
ance. This councU excommunicated the Count
Hugues, and some bishops ordained by
bishop Hugues, and many other persons.
This councU, composed of bishops of Ger
many, Italy, and Eastern Gaul, made canons
of discipline, which have nothing new in
them This council was held against the Count
Hainold, whose excommunication was de
ferred at the demand of the king.
This council excommunicated the Count
Isoai-d. who- retained the domains of the
church of St. Symphorian.

This council was convoked on the occasion
of the death of Artaud. Many bishops wished
the see of Reims to be given to Hugues ;
others refused. The council then consulte
the pope, and, by his advice, elected and
consecrated Odalric.
This councU confirmed the decree of Adal-
beron, archbishop of Reims, who- put in the'
hermitage of Mouson monks instead of |-

512

history of Civilization in francs.

Date.

Place.

Present.

Object of the CouncU, Rules, &o.

the Tar-
deuois.

972 : Ingelheim.

his suffra
gans, ten
in all ; 5

975

98f

Reims.

J..

ai-cn-
deacons.

6 bishops,
4 church men.

canons. The pope, being consulted, appointed
and confirmed it.

This council refused to Odalric, bishop of
Augsburg, permission to quit his bishopric
for a monastic life, because of the disorder
which would ensue in the election of his
successor. This council, presided over by a legate, ex
communicated Thibaud, bishop of Amiens,
ordained formerly by Hugues, archbishop of
Reims, and already excommunicated for an
other reason.
Sevin, archbishop of Sens, restored at this
eouncU much property to the monastery of j
St. Pierre le Vif.

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