ium. What little energy they have is
all centred in the narrow round of _Imitation_; a word which condenses
the whole of the Middle Ages. He on the other hand--this accursed
bastard whose only lot is the scourge--has no idea of waiting. He is
always seeking and will never rest. He busies himself with all things
between earth and heaven. He is exceedingly curious; will dig, dive,
ferret, and poke his nose everywhere. At the _consummatum est_ he only
laughs, the little scoffer! He is always saying "Further," or
"Forward." Moreover, he is not hard to please. He takes every rebuff;
picks up every windfall. For instance, when the Church throws out
nature as impure and doubtworthy, Satan fastens on her for his own
adornment. Nay, more; he employs her, and makes her useful to him as
the fountain-head of the arts; thus accepting the awful name with
which others would brand him; to wit, the _Prince of the World_.

Some one rashly said, "Woe to those who laugh." Thus from the first
was Satan intrusted with too pretty a part; he had the sole right of
laughing, and of declaring it an _amusement_--rather let us say _a
necessity_; for laughing is essentially a natural function. Life
would be unbearable if we could not laugh, at least in our
afflictions.

Looking on life as nothing but a trial, the Church is careful not to
prolong it. Her medicine is resignation, the looking for and the hope
of death. A broad field this for Satan! He becomes the physician, the
healer of the living. Better still, he acts as comforter: he is good
enough to shew us our dead, to call up the shades of our beloved.

One more trifle the Church rejected, namely, logic or free reason.
Here was a special dainty, to which _the other_ greedily helped
himself. The Church had carefully builded up a small _In pace_,
narrow, low-roofed, lighted by one dim opening, a mere cranny. That
was called _The School_. Into it were turned loose a few shavelings,
with this commandment, "Be free." They all fell lame. In three or four
centuries the paralysis was confirmed, and Ockham's standpoint is the
very same as Abelard's.[4]

[4] Abelard flourished in the twelfth, William of Ockham
(pupil of Duns Scotus) in the fourteenth century.--TRANS.

It is pleasant to track the Renaissance up to such a point. The
Renaissance took place indeed, but how? Through the Satanic daring of
those who pierced the vault, through the efforts of the damned who
were bent on seeing the s