Apart from all theological interferences,—­fall of Adam or fault of Eve, Atonement, Justification, or Redemption,—­either the universe was one, or it was two, or it was many; either energy was one, seen only in powers of itself, or it was several; either God was harmony, or He was discord.  With practical unanimity, mankind rejected the dual or multiple scheme; it insisted on unity.  Thomas took the question as it was given him.  The unity was full of defects; he did not deny them; but he claimed that they might be incidents, and that the admitted unity might even prove their beneficence.  Granting this enormous concession, he still needed a means of bringing into the system one element which vehemently refused to be brought:—­that is, man himself, who insisted that the universe was a unit, but that he was a universe; that energy was one, but that he was another energy; that God was omnipotent, but that man was free.  The contradiction had always existed, exists still, and always must exist, unless man either admits that he is a machine, or agrees that anarchy and chaos are the habit of nature, and law and order its accident.  The agreement may become possible, but it was not possible in the thirteenth century nor is it now.  Saint Thomas’s settlement could not be a simple one or final, except for practical use, but it served, and it holds good still.

No one ever seriously affirmed the literal freedom of will.  Absolute liberty is absence of restraint; responsibility is restraint; therefore, the ideally free individual is responsible only to himself.  This principle is the philosophical foundation of anarchism, and, for anything that science has yet proved, may be the philosophical foundation of the universe; but it is fatal to all society and is especially hostile to the State.  Perhaps the Church of the thirteenth century might have found a way to use even this principle for a good purpose; certainly, the influence of Saint Bernard was sufficiently unsocial and that of Saint Francis was sufficiently unselfish to conciliate even anarchists of the militant class; but Saint Thomas was working for the Church and the

State, not for the salvation of souls, and his chief object was to repress anarchy.  The theory of absolute free will never entered his mind, more than the theory of material free will would enter the mind of an architect.  The Church gave him no warrant for discussing the subject in such a sense.  In fact, the Church never admitted free will, or used the word when it could be avoided.  In Latin, the term used was “liberum arbitrium,”—­free choice,—­and in French to this day it remains in strictness “libre arbitre” still.  From Saint Augustine downwards the Church was never so unscientific as to admit of liberty beyond the faculty of choosing between paths, some leading through the Church and some not, but all leading to the next world; as a criminal might be allowed the liberty of choosing between the guillotine and the gallows, without infringing on the supremacy of the judge.