schools of Paris were thereby emptied, his rivals did everything in
their power to put a stop to his teaching, declaring that as a monk he
ought not to teach profane science, nor as a layman in theology sacred
science. In order to legitimatize his claim to teach the latter, he now
wrote a theological treatise, regarding which he says:--

"It so happened that I first endeavored to illuminate the
basis of our faith by similitudes drawn from human reason,
and to compose for our students a treatise on 'The Divine
Unity and Trinity,' because they kept asking for human and
philosophic reasons, and demanding rather what could be
understood than what could be said, declaring that the mere
utterance of words was useless unless followed by
understanding; that nothing could be believed that was not
first understood, and that it was ridiculous for any one to
preach what neither he nor those he taught could comprehend,
God himself calling such people blind leaders of the blind."

Here we have Abélard's central position, exactly the opposite to that of
his realist contemporary, Anselm of Canterbury, whose principle was
"Credo ut intelligam" (I believe, that I may understand). We must not
suppose, however, that Abélard, with his rationalism, dreamed of
undermining Christian dogma. Very far from it! He believed it to be
rational, and thought he could prove it so. No wonder that the book gave
offense, in an age when faith and ecstasy were placed above reason.
Indeed, his rivals could have wished for nothing better than this book,
which gave them a weapon to use against him. Led on by two old enemies,
Alberich and Lotulf, they caused an ecclesiastical council to be called
at Soissons, to pass judgment upon the book (1121). This judgment was a
foregone conclusion, the trial being the merest farce, in which the