to persuade me not to attempt such a preposterous task. By dint of great exertion I copied out the translation of the passage and brought it to lecture on the following Tuesday, when my companion, a Flemish priest, snatched the paper from my hand and tore it in pieces.
The third professor whose lectures I followed, Mgr. Mercier, was a gentleman of refined and sympathetic character and one of the ablest living exponents of Catholic philosophy. To a perfect knowledge of the scholastic philosophy he added a wide acquaintance with physical science (which can be rarely affirmed of the scholastic metaphysician) and a very fair estimate of modern rival schools of philosophy. Instead of wasting time on the absurd controversies of the mediæval schools he made a continuous effort to face the deep metaphysical criticism of the German and the English schools—with what success may be judged from his numerous writings on philosophical questions. During the year I attended, he took 'Criteriology' as his subject; he considered it the most important section of philosophy in these days when, after 2,000 years of faith, the neo-academic cry, 'What is truth?' has revived in such earnest.
Unfortunately the modern sophist finds little earnest and disinterested attention, even in universities: modern students of the great science are widely removed from the restless zeal of Athens or Alexandria or mediæval Paris. Mgr. Mercier is also
