We get a curious insight into the school-life of the period in the _Life of Saint Goswin_. Goswin of Douai—whom we shall meet again once or twice—was studying in the school of Master Joscelin the Red, down the hill. He was a youthful saint of the regulation pattern: had borne the aureole from his cradle. About this time he is described as brimming over with precocious zeal for righteousness, and astounded at the impunity with which Abélard poured out his novelties. Why did not some one silence ‘this dog who barked at the truth’? Already, the authors of the saint’s life—two monks of the twelfth century—say, ‘Abélard’s hand was against every man, and every man’s hand against him,’ yet no one seemed inclined ‘to thrash him with the stick of truth.’ The young saint could not understand it. He went to Master Joscelin at length, and declared that he was going to do the work of the Lord himself. Joscelin is reported to have endeavoured to dissuade him with a feeling description of Abélard’s rhetorical power; we do not know, however, that Joscelin was void of all sense of humour. In any case the saintly youngster of ‘modest stature’ with the ‘blue-grey eyes and light air’ had a good measure of courage. It will be interesting, perhaps, to read the issue in the serio-comic language of the times. ‘With a few companions he ascended the hill of St. Genevieve, prepared, like David, to wage single conflict with the Goliath who sat there thundering forth strange novelties of opinion to his followers and ridiculing the sound doctrine of the wise. ‘When he arrived at the battlefield—that is, when he entered the school—he found the master giving his lecture and instilling his novelties into his hearers. But as soon as he began to speak, the master cast an angry look at him; knowing himself to be a warrior from his youth, and noticing that the scholar was beginning to feel nervous, he despised him in his heart. The youth was, indeed, fair and handsome of appearance, but slender of body and short of stature. And when the proud one was urged to reply, he said: “Hold thy peace, and disturb not the course of my lecture.”’ The story runs, however, that Abélard’s students represented to him that the youth was of greater importance than he seemed to be, and persuaded him to take up the glove. ‘Very well,’ said Abélard, and it is not improbable, ‘let him say what he has to say.’ It was, of course, unfortunate for Goliath, as the young champion of orthodoxy, aided by the Holy Spirit, completely crushed him in the midst of his own pupils.