“The Ages of Faith!” sighed the High-Churchman.
“The Ages of Superstition and priestcraft,” cried the rector of St. Andrew’s.
“The Ages when Religion stood in the forefront of the battle for freedom and enlightenment,” said Mr. Clare. “Who drained the marshes and made the waste places fruitful? The monks! Who stood as protector between master and slave, oppressor and oppressed? The Church! Who were doctors, lawyers, teachers, musicians, and architects? The clergy, religious and secular. Then, as a result of their own very work, some of these ‘professions,’ as we still call them, passed into the hands of the laity; that is, those who studied medicine could find facilities for so doing elsewhere than in the cloister.”
“And the monks became jealous,” said the rector of St. Andrew’s.
“Their human nature was the same as ours,” was the reply; “besides, they really considered human learning something so dangerous in itself that it ought to be exercised only under the mighty protection of the Church. We must remember that the Cross was stamped upon what we still call a crucible, to protect it from the demons who guarded the secrets of nature, if we would understand the imprisonment of Friar Bacon. The less pious the experimenter, the more dangerous the experiment: and even the most religious trembled for his soul in drawing a pentagon, or setting free those dangerous creatures which we still call geists, ghosts, or gases.”
“The more fools they,” said the Lecturer.
“But, considering the faith of the scientific world now, are ye sure they were entirely wrong?” asked the Father.
“When oxygen and nitrogen produce water, or right doing produces a wrong effect, I shall be sure they were entirely right,” replied Mr. Clare. “But we wander from our subject. Take the time of the Religious Wars. Had religion lost its power then over the masses?”
“The religion of Rome had, over a large part of them,” said the Pastor.
“Because the religion of Rome had become a drag on progress, instead of its banner-bearer,” said Mr. Clare.