limited by the arbitrary theology imposed upon the 
mind of everyone.  The abomination was at its 
height.  But its decline has been rapid.  True, one 
hundred years later it was still possible for Queens 
to be bulldozed by Presbyterian pulpiteers, but the 
time was already predictable when their best was 
for undergraduates to be bluffed by homosexual 
ecclesiastics.  I suppose it is all in the family. 
While these profound thoughts were producing 
a hypochondriac obnubilation of my mental faculties, 
it suddenly occurred to me that after all, I had heard 
this story before.  And I saw the connection. 
In the pitch-dark ages, when Christianity held 
unchallenged sway over those portions of this globe 
which it had sufficiently corrupted, the pursuit of 
knowledge—knowledge of any kind—was justly 
estimated by the people in power as the one and 
only dangerous pursuit.  Even so, as late as 300 years 
ago, it was not considered very gentlemanly to be 
able to read and write.  I am not sure that it is. 
In any case, it is a great error in education to 
teach these things.  Grammar, we must never forget, 
appears in the word “ Gramarye,” beloved of Sir 
Walter Scott, and “ grimoire,” a black magical 
ritual—that is to say, any written document. 
Precious little knowledge filtered through Chris-
tianity.  It was against the interests of the Church, 
and in those times it was much easier to suppress 
people and ideas than it is now, though even to-day 
we find priests—at least in Oxford—who appear 
not to have heard of a certain recent invention by a 
notorious Magician inspired by the Devil—the 
Printing Press. 
But they feared.  So those who pursued know-