In whatever terms the problem be stated, it is sure to appear almost childish to the non-philosophical reader; as, indeed, it appeared to certain scholars even of that time. John of Salisbury, with his British common sense and impatience of dialectical subtlety, petulantly spoke of it as ‘the ancient question, in the solution of which the world has grown grey, and more time has been consumed than the Cæsars gave to the conquest and dominion of the globe, more money wasted than Crœsus counted in all his wealth.’ But listen to another Briton, and one with the fulness of modern life outspread before him. Archbishop Roger Vaughan, defending the attitude of the enthusiasts in his _Thomas of Aquin_, says: ‘Kill ideas, blast theories, explode the archetypes of things, and the age of brute force is not far distant.’ And Rousselot declares, in his _Philosophie du Moyen Age_, that the problem of universals is ‘the most exalted and the most difficult question in the whole of philosophy.’ Poor philosophy! will be the average layman’s comment. However, though neither ancient Greeks nor mediæval formalists were guilty of the confusion of _ideas_ and _ideals_ which Dom Vaughan betrays, the schoolmen had contrived to connect the question in a curious fashion with the mystery of the Trinity. When, therefore, Jean Roscelin began to probe the question with his dialectical weapons, the ears of the orthodox were opened wide. The only position which was thought compatible with the faith was realism—the notion that the species or the genus was a reality, distinct from the individuals that belonged to it, and outside the mind that conceived it. By and by it was whispered in the schools, and wandering scholars bore the rumour to distant monasteries and bishoprics, that Roscelin denied the real existence of these universals. Indeed, in his scorn of the orthodox position, he contemptuously declared them to be ‘mere words’; neither in the world of reality, nor in the mind itself, was there anything corresponding to them; they were nothing but an artifice of human speech. Europe was ablaze at once. St. Anselm assailed the heretic from the theological side; William of Champeaux stoutly led the opposition, and the defence of realism, from the side of philosophy. Such was the question of the hour, such the condition of the world of thought, when Pierre Abélard reached the cloistral school at Paris.