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are emancipated from the theologians; what luck!⁠—he has revealed to them that secret art, by which they can now pursue their “heart’s desire” on their own responsibility, and with all the respectability of science. Similarly, who can grumble at the agnostics, reverers, as they are, of the unknown and the absolute mystery, if they now worship their very query as God? (Xaver Doudan talks somewhere of the ravages which l’habitude d’admirer l’inintelligible au lieu de rester tout simplement dans l’inconnu has produced⁠—the ancients, he thinks, must have been exempt from those ravages .) Supposing that everything, “known” to man, fails to satisfy his desires, and on the contrary contradicts and horrifies them, what a divine way out of all this to be able to look for the responsibility, not in the “desiring” but in “knowing”!⁠—“There is no knowledge. Consequently ⁠—there is a God”; what a novel elegantia syllogismi ! what a triumph for the ascetic ideal!