men as Savonarola, Luther and
Erasmus, do we owe our freedom. These men cared more for truth than for
power, and their influence was to disintegrate the ankylosis of custom
and make men think. And a thought is mental dynamite. No wonder the
Church has always feared and hated a thinker!

The Bishop of Cambray was not a thinker. Fenelon, who was later to
occupy his office, was to make the bishopric of Cambray immortal.
Conformists die, but heretics live on forever. They are men who have
redeemed the cross and rendered the gallows glorious.

* * * * *

And so the Bishop of Cambray and his little light-haired secretary fared
forth to fame and fortune--the Bishop to be remembered because he had a
secretary, and the secretary to be remembered because he grew into a
great teacher.

At each stopping-place the Bishop said mass--the workers, students and
novitiates quitting their tasks to hear the words of encouragement from
the lips of the great man. Occasionally Erasmus was pushed forward to
say a few words, by the Bishop, who had to look after his own personal
devotions. The assembled friends liked the young man--he was so bright
and witty and free from cant. They even laughed out loud, and so, often
two smiles were made to grow where there were no smiles before.

Leisurely they rode--stopping at times for several days at places where
the food and drink were at their best, and the society sulphide. At
nunneries and monasteries were always guest-chambers for the great, and
they were usually occupied.

Thus it was that every church-house was a sort of university, depending
of course on the soul-size of the Superior or Abbe. These constant
journeyings and pilgrimages served in lieu of the daily paper, the
Western Union Telegraph, and the telephone. Things have slipped back, I
fear me, for now Mercury merely calls up his party on the long-distance,
instead of making a personal visit--the Angel Gabriel as well. We save
time, but we miss the personal contact.

The monastic impulse was founded on a human need. Like most good things,
it has been sadly perverted; but the idea of a sanctuary for stricken
souls--a place of refuge, where simplicity, service and useful endeavor
rule--will never die from out the human heart. The hospice stands for
hospitality, but we have now only a hotel and a hospital.

The latter stands for iodoform, carbolic acid and formaldehyde; the
former often means gold, gli