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leaven of hatred and of feud deposited
in all human convictions, still remains
there, but it can no longer find a re-
sponse in society. It is abhorrent to
our manners, and still more to our laws.
The Will will soon be wanting, even
in hearts most inclined to this evil
disposition, to give it effect. Those
who continue to preach irritation
either in Christian communions among
themselves, or from the philosophic
chair against Christianity, preach
with the voice of the dying, aban-
doned on a conquered field where
they persist in remaining. Here is
what is more likely to happen. Living
neither in peace nor at war, neigh-
bours without friendship, and jealous
without passion, Catholicism, Pro-
testantism, and Philosophy, and with
them society at large, will become
low, cold, and feeble. Dignity and
force, which result from lively, moral
reciprocities, will both fail them.
dry and sterile spirit will pervade their
purely official and formal intercom-
munications. And we shall see that
state of indifference, at once disdainful
and subaltern, that naked frigidity of
character, which must characterise
communities depending barely on the
mechanism of human laws, on a bu-
reaucratic administration, devoid of
morality, that is, of faith and devo-
tion,-spread, harden, become perma-
nent, and in a manner legally and
socially consecrated among men. Is it
then to reach this goal that the human
intelligence has for so many centuries
unfolded its resources with so much
brilliancy in our country? Is it to be
quelled at this barren and ignoble
term at this degradation, that all
mighty believing hopes, that all puis-
sant moral energies have striven to-
gether, with so much exasperation,
and so much glory, for the mastery of
our society? No. They must save
themselves, they must save our coun-
try from this shameful peril. They
must adopt, they must respect, they
must serve loyally our new social
state. They must live in harmony
with mutual respect. I say they must.
An immense advance is made in every
great design, when success is regard-
ed as indispensable, as vital.
conviction of necessity gives to those
to whom this conviction is pleasing,
great strength; to those to whom it
is displeasing, great resignation. A
A
passionate desire is more sustain

ing than deceiving. And certainly
such an ardour ought to be felt here,
for the honour and the moral repose
of our society are, for a long stretch
of time, at stake. It cannot remain
in the state of apathy and disquietude,
of langour and strife, in which it exists
at present. The soul must have at
once more activity and more security,
a firmer resting-place, and a higher
flight; and a real pacification of the
great contending intellectual powers
can alone accomplish this. How,
then, is this to be brought about? I
shall grapple without hesitation with
the most prominent and gravest diffi-
culty which besets this project-the
nature of Catholicism, and the condi-
tions on which alone it can subsist in
harmony with the new society which
has made with it, and on which it has
retaliated, such fierce war. But I
leave out of consideration religious
questions, properly so called, questions
which regard the intimate relations
between God and man, in which the
salvation of the human soul is inter-
ested.

The

Its

"Not that I regard these questions with indifference; not that their importance is not now what it has ever been, immensely dominant. It is essential, on the contrary, constantly to repeat this, for in our time it is too much forgotten. The real object, the root, the essence of religion consists, in fact, in its spiritual properties. morality is valuable, no doubt, as the rule of conduct of men in their intercourse with other men; it is valuable also in calming the mind to resignation in the midst of the trials of life. These are the effects of religion upon the earth, where it occupies a vast space. But its sphere of action is much wider, extends far beyond human society and the world; it binds man to God, reveals to him the secret of this awful communion, teaches him what he should believe, and what he should do in his connexion with the Almighty, and in his prospects of eternity. These are indestructible facts, from which man may for a moment withdraw his attention, but which he cannot efface from his nature. These are sublime wants, from which he cannot dissever himself even when he abuses and denies them. The logic of these facts, the satisfaction of these wants, that is to say, doctrine and its consequences, is truly religion, is es

pecially the Christian religion, the first which has really comprehended and embraced its objects. But in these questions, and in the doctrines in which they receive their more specific expression, there is nothing which excites conflict between Catholicism and civil society. The State proclaims in this matter not only liberty but the rights of the Church, and declares herself incompetent to meddle with them. . . . Under this point of view, therefore, peace is assured, and may easily be maintained with sincerity between Catholicism and our new society. The real difficulty lies in the following consideration. The Government of the Catholic Church consists in a power in all matters of faith and salvation which claims the character of infallibility. I put aside, however momentous they may be, all second questions respecting what conditions, and within what limits, this infallibility exists, or to whom it belongs; whether to the Pope or Councils, or to the Pope and Councils united. I grasp the principle alone which pervades the Catholic faith under its every aspect. This principle itself is founded on the perpetuity of the Divine revelation, faithfully preserved in the Church by tradition; and, in case of need, renewed by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, which ceases not to descend upon the successor of St Peter, placed by Jesus Christ himself at the head of the Church. This is the essential vital principle, the base and the pinnacle, the alpha and the omega of Catholicism. Before a power of such a nature, of such an origin, all discussion, all resistance, all separation, is rebellious. The new society, the France of the Charte, has also her principle, which has become that of her Government. It is this, that all human power is fallible, and ought to be controlled and limited; that all human society, directly or indirectly, in such or such measure, under such or such form, has the right of controlling and limiting the power which it obeys.

"I attempt not to attenuate the problem. I set forth with exactness the two principles; they differ essentially; it is said that they are at strife. They would truly be at strife if they ever met, if they acted within the same sphere. But here I again light upon the remedy which I have alluded to above. When the church, many centuries ago, insist ed so perseveringly upon the distinc

tion of spiritual and temporal things, she acted in the interest of her own dignity, and to establish her own liberty. But she did more, she maintained the dignity of human nature, and laid the foundations of liberty of conscience. The separation of spiritual and temporal things, the doctrine of the church, and the separation of the religious from the civil state, the doctrine of the charte, the independence of religious society in matters of faith, the conquest of the Catholic church in the first ages of our Europe, and liberty of conscience, the conquest of our new society;-these rest fundamentally on one and the same principle. In their applications and their forms they vary; in their origin and moral signification they accord thoroughly. Herein there is consequently a medium of pacification and of harmony between Catholicism and the new society. . What is the

obstacle to be encountered? One, rather historic than rational, arising from the past facts of the ancient life of the two powers, much more than from their prime principles and their actual relations. The separation between spiritual and temporal affairs had its origin in the chaos of the middle ages. From thence it emerged like the sun from a dark and stormy sky. Principles, powers, ideas, situations, were all for a long time in this European world of ours prodigiously confused, obscure, inconsequent, incomplete. For a long time temporal things were mixed with spiritual, and spiritual things with temporal, deeply and inextricably, in the existence and constitution of Church and State. Hence arose temptations and incentives frequent and terrible to reciprocal usurpations. The confu sion of facts, and the violence of passions, strove incessantly together against the principle which had surged up to regulate and appease them.. But now, when those great ambitions which have troubled the world are no more than vain pretensions, it behoves them to avoid with care the last risk they have to run, that of falling into ridiculous wranglings. Let the two powers, instead of submitting to the painful abasement of a momentary replunge into the effete and putrid elements of the old confusion, recognise fully, in right and in fact, their mutual incompetence. Let each take up its firm position in its own sphere, and profess with energy its own prin

ciple; the Catholic Church, her infallibility and religious order; the State, freedom of enquiry, and social order. Not only will they then live in peace, but they will respect and strengthen each other, not merely in hollow semblance, which would be unworthy of them both, but in earnest reality.

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As to the benefits which would result from this pacification to the Catholic Church and constitutional France, they are immense. What is the great evil which disorders our temporal society? The enfeeblement of authority. I speak not of that force which compels obedience; never, perhaps, had power more of it; never, perhaps, so much; but of that authority which is anteriorly recognised in principle and in a general manner, which is adopted and felt as a right, which has no need of recourse to force; of that authority to which the heart and the understanding yield a voluntary allegiance, which speaks from on high with the empire not of constraint, and yet of necessity. This is truly authority. It is not, nevertheless, the only principle of the social state. It suffices not for the government of men. But nothing can suffice without it, neither reasonings repeatedly reiterated, nor self-interest well understood, nor the material preponderance of numbers. Wherever this authority is wanting, however great the physical force may be, obedience is always precarious and base, always bordering on servility or rebellion. But Catholicism contains the spirit of authority-of authority syste matically conceived and organized, laid down as a fundamental principle, and carried out into practice, with great firmness in doctrine and a rare knowledge of human nature.

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Catholicism is the greatest and most holy school of respect the world has ever seen. France has been formed in this school, in spite of the abuses to which human passions have often turned its precepts. These abuses are little to be feared in future, and the great benefits may flow from the inculcation of the precepts, of which we have great need. Catholicism has also its evils. Its coldness, its formality, its predominance of forms over realities, of exterior ceremonies over interior convictions. But these evils arise from the incredulity, mostly hypocritical, of the eighteenth century, with which the present age is also in

The

fected; and also from the predominancy, which was long excessive, in the church, of the governing over the vital principle, of ecclesiastical authority over a religious life. . . . What, then, has saved Catholicism from shipwreck? The popular faith. Government fell, but the Catholic people survived. M. de Montlosier is right. In our days also, a cross of wood has saved the world. this salvation is incomplete. church is raised from the ground, but souls languish. Catholicism is wanting in faith, of a faith springing out of deep inward convictions.

But

The

The situation of Protestantism is more simple; some persons affect to believe it better. The general spirit which, since 1830, has prevailed in our political and domestic affairs and alliances, the analogy of principle between constitutional France and Protestant England, has given rise to an opinion that Protestantism is in favour. There are even some people who pretend to have discovered a grand conspiracy to render France Protestant. This absurdity has no need of confutation. A very little time back Protestantism appeared not to be so well established in France. I speak not of the Restoration. under the empire it was said that Protestantism had a republican tendency, that its maxims were opposed to all stable order, and to all strong power. The Protestant spirit and the revolutionary spirit were represented as being closely allied.

But

"The same assertion is still repeated. It has become the theme of a party who persevere in exhibiting Protestantism as incompatible with social order, tranquillity of conscience, and the monarchy. Happily Protestantism is not a religion of yesterday in Europe. It has an history to reply to this accusation.

The French Reformed Church ought especially to be exempt from this ridiculous reproach. She enjoys her new liberty with modesty and gratitude. Never has a religious society been more disposed to show deference to the civil authority.

Protestantism, therefore [we have omitted the reasons as too generally appreciated, and too trite to be repeated to an English public], in this country can inspire no fears of a political nature; and in a religious point of view it may effect much good, but not in proselytizing and convert

ing.

Conversions on one side and on the other will be henceforward extremely rare; and the importance which certain persons attach to them, either as a matter of gratulation or complaint, is somewhat puerile. Truly such conversions are facts most grave to those who are engaged in them, but they are of no moment to society. France will not become Protestant; Protestantism will not perish in France. Among many other reasons, the following is decisive. It is not between Catholicism and Protestantism that a struggle for mastery exists at present. Impiety and immorality are the enemies they both have to contend with. To revive the influence of religion is the work to which they are jointly summoned; an immense work, for the evil thereby to be removed is immense. When one reflects with any seriousness upon this evil-when one sounds, though but partially, its abysses,—the moral state of the masses of our population, the popular mind so vagrant, the popular heart so empty, desiring so much, hoping so little, fluctuating so rapidly from the fever to the languor of the soul, one is seized with melancholy and dismay. Catholics or Protestants, priests or laymen, whoever you are, if you are believers, do not molest each other, but direct all your zeal towards those who have no faith. There is your field, there is your harvest. An open field for Protestantism as for Catholicism, where the one and the other may find full occupation, and where each has peculiar aptitudes and peculiar merits to labour profitably. We are suffering under diverse moral maladies. Some are tossed with doubt, and a sickly wavering understanding. These require the shelter of a port where no tempest can intrude, of a light which never flickers, of a hand ever present to uphold their faltering steps. They demand from religion rather support for their feebleness, than aliment for their activity. In raising them it must sustain them; in touching their heart it must subdue their intelligence; in animating their interior sensibilities, it must, at the same time, and above all, impart to them a profound sentiment of security. Catholicism is marvellously suited to this character so frequent in our days. It has satisfactions for desires, and remedies for sufferings. It possesses at the same time the art of subjugating and of pleasing.

Its anchors are strong, and its perspectives full of attraction to the imagination. It excels in giving at once occupation and repose to the soul, and opens a welcome haven after great fatigues; for without leaving the heart cold or idle, it spares it much effort, and lightens the burden of its responsibility. For other minds, diseased also, and severed from religion, more intellectual and personal activity is necessary. They also experience the want of returning to God and to a faith. But they have the habit of examining every thing for themselves, and will receive nothing for truth which results not from their own reasonings. They would flee from infidelity, but liberty is dear to them; and there is in the religious bent of their disposition, more thirst than lassitude. To these Protestantism may find access, for, in urging upon them piety and faith, it not only allows, but exhorts them to exercise their reason and their liberty. It has been accused of coldness, but wrongfully. In appealing incessantly to a free personal examination, Protestantism works its way deeply into the soul, and generates a strong faith, in which the activity of the intelligence aliments the fervour of the heart, instead of extinguishing it. And by this characteristic it harmonizes well with the spirit of the age, which was, in the days of its youth, at once inquisitive and enthusiastic, as eager for conviction as for liberty, and which, despite its momentary exhaustion, has not changed its nature, but will resume infallibly its double cha

racter.

"Let Catholicism and Protestantism then never lose sight of our society. Let them each, according liar principle, seek out and medicine our social wounds, and cater to those moral wants which they are, respectively, most adapted to satisfy. In this task lies their true mission, their efficacious mission, not in eyeing each other constantly with hostility, and renewing old controversies. In general, controversy has but little effect, and that not of a religious kind. They should, therefore, discard controversy, and bend all their energies to their joint and yet separate work. Thus they may live in peace not only with our new society, but with each

other.

This alliance must take place. I repeat, it must. I close as I commenced this paper, by insist

ing on this necessity. Peace between religious creeds is at present imposed on them all by our social state. Harmony in liberty is their legal condition; it is the Charte. Let them adopt it, then, heartily as a fact; let them render a loving obedience to this rule. I fear not the disrepute of a false prophet in predicting that religion will gain by it as much as society," &c. &c.

Almost

A production more completely French than the one from which we have laid such ample extracts before our readers, we believe was never before given to the world. every moral and mental characteristic of Frenchmen, and of Frenchmen, too, of the highest class of mind, is therein exhibited with a distinctness, a brevity, and a burnish of artful phrases and bastard logic which it wellnigh tortures the sense to contemplate within so narrow a compass.

In what other country than France, upon the face of the whole earth, would a statesman undertake, not to restrain external actions, but to dictate, ex cathedrâ, to mind, regarding the thoughts and convictions of men on the most vital topics, as subject, even in their intellectual and spiritual developements, to the mouldings and limitations of a barely political and social expediency? In what other country in the world could religious creeds and philosophy be viewed barely as material facts, to be dealt with, not in their outward forms, but in their inward life, in the same manner as if they were purely conventional institutions? For it is to the inward life of Catholicism, Protestantism, and Philosophy, that M. Guizot addresses his dogmatic dialectics. Despite the refining verbal distinctions he makes, this is the fact. He would regulate the internal spirit of faith in France, under its two broad divisions, as well as that of the infidelity of indifference which he calls philosophy. In this we discern the radical passion of Frenchmen for organizing, as they call it, all things. Mind itself they would manage as a great military chief would manage masses of material force under his command. They would array and order it, and send a detachment here and a detachment there, under different captains and different banners, to achieve certain conquests which they deem desirable. There is a pro

fundity of impious assumption of the Divine power in such designs; and it is precisely a design of this kind, most flagrantly set forth, that the Essay of M. Guizot unfolds. The French in their Great Revolution attempted to usurp a dominancy of this sort. Their will was to destroy, their will was to create, their will was to mould and wield all the elements of human society, just as if they had to work upon plastic matter to be shaped by the hands of the artificer. And this abrupt, impatient, arbitrary wilfulness they called freedom. It is much the same now. Persecution, in principle at least, they abjure; liberty, especially intellectual liberty, and liberty of conscience, they proclaim emphatically; but whilst they believe it within their competence, as it were, to orga. nize all mental energies, however di verse in nature, and make them act together as parts of the same machine, towards the fulfilment of certain temporal and national purposes, there is the sublimation of tyranny in the very conception. Yet what else does M. Guizot propose? All the great conflicting opinions of men within the French territory are, he affirms, to hear his voice, and kiss and be friends. He considers them, therefore, as susceptible of yielding obedience to some intellectual fiat external to themselves. However absurd this phrase may sound, it simply expresses the substance of M. Guizot's meaning. let us examine his propositions a little closer.

But

He would bring about a pacification between the three powers: Catholicism, Protestantism, and Philosophy. But this is only possible in one way, viz: by neutralizing them all. It is in vain to say that each may find separate work without interfering with the others. They are in a most prominent sense relative existences. Take away their mutual relations of opposition, and they become at best but feeble prevarications. Their mutually antagonistic qualities constitute, wherein they differ, their very essence. It is preposterous to maintain that the doctrines of each can be zealously propagated, without hostile reference to the doctrines of the other two, especially when they are all placed in active juxtaposition: for they are severally at variance, not on points of acknowledged minor importance, but on the most vital questions of revelation. It

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