How can man be approximately free of fine emotions, able to swing them in a clear space without breakage or wrong?
_This_ was the achievement of this Christian paradox of the parallel passions.

Granted the primary dogma of the war between divine and diabolic, the revolt and ruin of the world, their optimism and pessimism, as pure poetry, could be loosened like cataracts.
St.Francis, in praising all good, could be a more shouting optimist than Walt Whitman.

St.Jerome, in denouncing all evil, could paint the world blacker than Schopenhauer.

Both passions were free because both were kept in their place.

The optimist could pour out all the praise he liked on the gay music of the march, the golden trumpets, and the purple banners going into battle.