and form into simpler constituents, or in proving that they are not distinct from each other. Therefore, having now circumscribed the old Aristotelian doctrine to those questions in which pure reason alone comes into play, they do not for an instant doubt of success.

This cause, set forth, as is seen, from a Neo-Scholastic point of view, had certainly some weight and a considerable influence on the events that took place during the 17th and the 18th centuries. But is it sufficient, even taken together with all the others, to account for the complete change of front then executed by all classes of the intelligent world? Bossuet and Fénélon were Cartesians; Malebranche, it is well known, was a priest of the Oratory. Notwithstanding the immense services rendered to the Catholic Church by Scholasticism, defections were at that time extremely numerous among the secular clergy. The religious orders were more or less kept back by their rule, and by their rule alone, from following in the wake of the movement. It was not only a defeat-it was a rout, a dispersion, a total annihilation; and there came a time when almost the only remains of the Scholastics were their books, voluminous, innumerable and read by no one. Now if, choosing amongst the noted men who at this period seceded from the School, we take but two of those just named-Bossuet and Fénélon-we shall find that neither of them cared for those discoveries which, according to the above-stated view, had overthrown Peripateticism.1 On the other hand, Leibniz, who was certainly not behind his time as regards Natural Philosophy, is far from unfriendly to Scholasticism, which he may be said to imitate in several parts of his doctrine. Thus in many respects his 'monads' correspond with the formæ of the School. Like them, they are non-composite, inextended and incorruptible; like them, they form the vital principle in plants, animals and men; like them, they make up the totality of the substance of all spirits, including God, who in one system is forma purissima,' and in the other is 'the monad of monads'. Nor does Leibniz himself hesitate openly to avow his obligations to Scholasticism. These examples will perhaps suffice to prove that the alleged cause does not afford anything like a sufficient reason for the change that took place.

To find out the real cause, it will be necessary to go a few

1 Bossuet, in particular, states very explicitly his opinion that mathematical and natural science in general is a study too frivolous for a member of the clergy; and there is little room to doubt that his opinion was that of the majority in his time.

centuries back, and take the School at the most brilliant period of its existence.

The Scholastic movement, arising from the desire to justify their convictions felt by all thinking believers of that period, may be not unaptly styled, in the words of Anselm, as "Fides quaerens intellectum". The Western world owed too much to the Church that had only just helped it to escape from the horrors of barbarism, to think of calling in question the truth of those doctrines by which it had become what it was. This degree of independence was reserved to a later age, when the memory of those benefits was less fresh in the minds of men. At that time the question was not Are the doctrines of Catholicism true? but: The doctrines of Catholicism being true, how are we to prove their truth, or defend them from the imputation of absurdity? Such was the principal tendency of all leading minds during the tide of thought which, beginning with Anselm, reached its highest point in the days of Thomas Aquinas. Now, this tendency met, at the very outset, with what was considered as the great sum of human learningthe works of Aristotle, then expounded by none but Mohammedans like Algazali, Ibn Roshd and Ibn Sina, or Jews like Samuel Halevi and Rabbi Moses ben Maimon; these expositions being of course far from satisfactory to Catholic convictions. The Schoolmen were free either to set Aristotle completely aside, and strike out a new path for themselves; or to follow him as far as he possibly could be followed, explaining him favourably whenever they could, and accepting his authority almost without discussion on all points that were secondary, i.e., that had nothing to do with religion. In this case, the law that every motion follows the line of least resistance held good. One by one, the theories of Aristotle were brought into agreement, if not positive and auxiliary, at least negative and neutral, with the doctrines of the Church; doubtful passages were expounded favourably, gaps in his doctrine were filled up, until at last very little indeed remained to reject. St. Thomas sets openly aside one only of the more important positions of Aristotle-the admission of an eternal universe. Yet he does not think that the universe cannot possibly be eternal, but maintains that its non-eternity is only probable, not sure; if he is convinced that the world had a beginning, it is on account of God's revelation. At this

1 Sum. contra Gentiles, 1. ii., c. 38.-In the Summa Theologica St. Thomas, urged by the arguments against the eternity of a material universe, points out that he only meant to maintain the general possibi

moment the ancient philosophy and the new faith were as much at one as they ever could hope to be; and the end of Scholasticism was gained.

We should not scorn these efforts of the human mind. In an age in which faith is little better than a mere word, we can scarcely conceive the living and intense reality which it had in those ruder times; the agony felt by those thinkers who perceived a contradiction between faith (where doubt was criminal) and science (where denial was absurd) was then extreme. And it was surely an immense benefit when Scholastic philosophy set both conscience and reason at ease, when science could be studied without crime, and religion believed without absurdity.

This was a rare triumph; but with the triumph decay began. No method as yet found out is able to compete in perfection with the sternly logical plan of the Scholastics. Two reasoners are placed face to face: one of them defends a proposition, the other attacks it. He who attacks has to prove by means of two short premisses his conclusion, i.e., the negative of the proposition which the defender maintains. The latter, admitting or waiving the least doubtful of these premisses, challenges his antagonist to prove the other; or he takes a distinction that destroys all the force of his opponent's syllogism, unless he goes on to prove either of his premisses, as thus distinguished. No useless oratory, no pages of oracular obscurity, no string of questions leading one cannot tell where, are allowed: from the very first you know what your adversary is aiming at and how he intends to reach it. Such was the method of public debate; such was also the method pursued by the thinker in his cell he successively attacked and defended the same proposition, and by that means went as deep into the heart of the question as the human mind could go. And yet this, even this, method availed very little in the way of progress. Scholasticism, after the death of St. Thomas, just like Peripateticism after Aristotle's death, hardly took a single step forwards. The onward movement which, beginning with Anselm, culminated in the 'Angelic Doctor' also terminated with him. Every conclusion arrived at by the mighty Master was contested-often enough not without reason-by his successor and rival, Duns Scotus. The defect is in the method though the best extant, it is all but worthless.

lity of an eternal creature: by which he seems to take refuge in a spiritworld that might be everlasting. All this in order to keep as close as possible to the "Philosopher".

We can easily see how cumbersome and awkward it becomes for practical use after the first few steps. Take any conclusion; for instance, The soul is immortal. This conclusion flows from two premisses. Each of these from two others. These two others proceed from two more. It is clear that, for any proposition removed from self-evidence by only ten degrees, an immense number of other propositions have to be brought forward and demonstrated. But this is not all. Supposing that each of these propositions has been proved, an assailant of the conclusion may at every step bring forward a distinction, which distinction must be borne in mind until we reach the axiom on which the whole is grounded; for if the axiom is not true in that sense, all is over. Therefore, if we suppose the above conclusion to be removed by 10 degrees from absolute certitude, 1024 axioms must be affirmed. And if it be said, to reduce this number, that many of those axioms may be identical, we must remember that at every step towards evidence they may be loaded with a new distinction-ten distinctions for each axiom! This is surely enough to differentiate them with a vengeance. Further, this work having been accomplished, the opponent comes forward and admits that his distinctions have been badly taken; but he says that this proves nothing in favour of our thesis, for he has a new set of distinctions that will overthrow the truth of our proposition. And the work is to begin anew, until the adversary is convinced that to assail us is a hopeless task. I think it may not be quite useless to point this out more clearly, by presenting the reader with a specimen of an imaginary conflict between an Idealist assailant and a Realist defender, carried on in strict Scholastic form. Most people have heard of these debates; but comparatively few, I believe, have any adequate idea of what they really are. Thus a twofold purpose will be served; for not only the defects of the Scholastic method, but also its merits, will be seen.

The assailant having first denied that An external world exists, which is of course asserted by the defender, proceeds to prove his case as follows:

No world independent of consciousness exists; Now, an external world is a world independent of consciousness;

.. No external world exists.

Defender. At the major premiss, 'No world independent of consciousness exists,' I take a distinction. No world independent of all consciousness? I waive that question. No world inde

pendent of my consciousness exists? I deny it. At the minor, 'An external world is a world independent of consciousness,' I counter-distinguish. Of all consciousness? I deny it. Of my consciousness? I grant that. By this distinction your argument is out of form and inadmissible.

Assailant. But no external world independent of my consciousness exists; .. your distinction is worthless.

Defender. I deny that.

Assailant. I prove it.

Nothing but a modification of myself exists; Now, a world independent of my consciousness is not a modification of myself;

.. No world independent of my consciousness exists.

Defender. At the major, 'Nothing but a modification of myself exists,' I distinguish. Exists as my perception? I admit that. Exists as the cause of my perception? I deny it.-As for the minor, A world independent of my consciousness is not a modification of myself,' I grant that. So I distinguish the conclusion: No world independent of my consciousness exists': as my perception? I grant it. As the cause of my perception? I deny that.

Assailant. But my perception and the cause of my perception are identical; .. your distinction is worthless.

Defender. I deny that.

Assailant. I prove it.

What is perceived by me is the cause of my perception;

But my perception is what is perceived by me; .. My perception is the same as the cause of my perception.

Defender.

What is perceived by me is the cause of my perception: here I distinguish. What is perceived by me as something in myself is the cause of my perception? That I deny. What is perceived by me as something outside of myself is the cause of my perception? I grant it. As for the minor, My perception is what is perceived by me,' I counter