Catholicism of these countries were not common to it, wherever found, and as if any Catholic could be insensible to the attacks made on such distinguished portions of the Church. Shallow as is this artifice, he knew full well how much national antipathies, and the effect produced on the public mind by the continual misrepresentations of the countries in question, would favour its success; and, the poison once incautiously imbibed, there was little fear of its workings being arrested by the application of a timely antidote. The second chapter of our author detects this insidious snare.

If men could be moral without being religious, a consummation apparently wished for by unbelievers would be attained; but hitherto the experience of mankind has shown that both these qualities are inseparably connected. The wisest and best of the old philosophers founded the duties of morality on a religious principle; and such as, in ancient or modern times, sought to separate them, have been wonderfully embarrassed to find any rational base for the moral edifice, or to discover any sufficient sanction, or impelling motive, whereby to secure its observance. To some of such moral theorizers did Rousseau well observe: "All very fine; but pray tell me what you have got for hell?" The effort to separate morality from religion was never made with such probability of success as in the middle of the last century, by the miserable sophists, misnamed philosophers, who moved heaven and earth to eradicate the religious principle from the mind of man, while they were eloquent in praise of virtue. What their virtue was, and what the tendency of their teaching, we learn from one not likely to exaggerate their failure, the execrable Robespierre. "We owe to them," said this King of Terror, in his speech before the Convention on 7th May, 1794, during the palmy days of his sanguinary reign-"we owe to them that selfish philosophy which reduced egotism to a system; regarded human society as a game of chance, where success was the sole distinction between what was just and unjust; probity as an affair of taste and good breeding; the world as the patrimony of the most dexterous of scoundrels." Such was the system of morality framed by men who professedly rejected religion. After this, is it not humiliating to find Sismondi reproaching Catholicism with having usurped the office of teaching mcrality, and of applying its principles according to the rules of revelation; whereas, a religion that would not do all this, would be a scourge rather than a blessing to man?

A favorite subject of declamation with infidels, ever have been the animosities which, according to them, religion has occasioned among men. If the Church recognizes any principle by which such unholy feelings are excited— if she enjoins any act which has for its object the injury of our fellow creatures we should alone plead guilty to the charge. But in vain would such principles, or such precepts, be sought for in her code. Principles and precepts of a very opposite character form its principal part. Whence, then, this charge which reaches our ears from every quarter? By condemning error, does the Church encourage hatred of the errorist? Far from this, her principle is that of St. Augustin-"Love the man, but condemn the error." But the very fact of condemning error gives rise to religious animosity. Is such a necessary result? and if not, is it reasonable to charge the Church with the faults of individuals, whether among her children or among those whose errors she proscribes? She cannot be silent when the truth, of which God has made her the depository, is assailed - she cannot close her lips and bow assent when the errors of man are sought to be substituted for the teachings of Christ-she cannot be a partner to any effort by which the sublime mysteries of faith are wholly or partially denied, and by which man, instead of elevating his thoughts. to the revealed majesty of God, seeks to bring that Incomprehensible Being,

his designs and conduct towards mortals, within the puny grasp of his own limited reason. The Church must be intolerant of error, because she is the constituted guardian of truth. If those whose errors she condemns are thereby stirred up to animosity, instead of being moved to penance; or if some of her own children permit their patience to be exhausted by insolence and outrage, and forget the mildness and patience that she incessantly inculcates to them, and thus, in disobedience to her authority, cherish animosity towards their erring brethren—is it, we again ask, reasonable or just that the faults of individuals should be ascribed to the Church? We could wish to transfer to our pages the whole chapter on this subject, in which Manzoni calmly vindicates religion from this charge; but as this is not practicable, we content ourselves with quoting the following just observations on this exciting topic:

"Let us then again repeat the great principle, that in a doctrine we should look for its legitimate consequences, not those that may be deduced from it by the passions; and by applying it to religion, we shall find how far in this, also, it is above all human theories, on account of the inimitable characteristics that distinguish it. It excludes every hurtful consequence, and it excludes it by that same authority which renders sacred its own principles. This was a triumph to be achieved by itself alone. If, therefore, by proceeding from one chain of reasoning to another, a man arrives at a conclusion that would constitute an injustice, he may be sure that he has reasoned wrong; and if he is sincere, he finds in religion herself a warning that he has gone astray; because, wherever evil appears, there she provides a prohibition and a threat. It is not then reasonable to cast the blame upon Revelation, because men hate and destroy each other; but it should be stated, on the contrary, that there is such a natural disposition in mankind to hate and to injure one another, that a pretext has been found for it even in the truths of a religion which commands them to love one another, as a rule without exception. What would they not have done had they derived their pretext from principles or interests to which this commandment was not essentially allied, from things in which the passions govern entirely, and in fact what have they not done?

"The Catholic religion has never been, nor can it ever be, the direct and natural cause of dissension; but in the hand of a man in a rage, every thing is a weapon. This does not break forth while men are peaceable and quiet, but always in ferocious and brutal times, when all the hostile passions are inflamed; and I think I may add, without being contradicted by history, in times distinguished by great indifference to the essentials of religion, and by a peculiar eagerness for all those things which a sincere love to religion considers vanity."

Our author enters very fully into an examination of the popular objections against the Catholic doctrine of Penance, which Sismondi had adopted. A more truly philosophic view of the principles and practice of the Church on this important subject-- so much misconceived, and so often made the occasion of misrepresentation-can with difficulty be conceived, than that presented in the whole of the eighth chapter, from which we take the following extract:

"The man, alas! who has fallen into sin, is but too prone to continue in that unhappy state; and his being deprived of the testimony of a good conscience, afflicts, without improving him-so much so, that it is acknowledged the guilty man for the most part adds crime to crime, in order to banish remorse, like those who, in alarm and terror at a conflagration, throw whatever lies in their way into the flames, as if to quench them. Remorse, that sentiment which, by the aid of those hopes inspired by religion, is changed into a holy feeling of contrition, and which, by their influence, is so useful, is but

too often fruitful, or even injurious without them. In the depths of conscience, the wicked man hears that terrible voice, which declares that he is no longer innocent; and a still more dreadful one, which says that he can be so no more: he looks on virtue as a thing that is lost, and would fain persuade himself that he can do without it-that it is but a name, praised by men because they find it useful in others, or venerated by them through an ignorant prejudice. He tries to keep his mind occupied by those vicious sentiments which encourage him in sin, because those of virtue are a torment to him. Still, for the most part, those who assert that virtue is an empty name, are far from being persuaded of it. If an inward voice of authority were to announce to them that they might re-possess it, they would believe in its reality, or rather they would confess they had always believed it. Precisely this does religion for the man. who will listen to her voice: she speaks in the name of a God who has promised to blot out of his remembrance the iniquities of a repenting sinner — she promises pardon, and offers the ransom for sin-mystery of wisdom and of mercy! A mystery indeed, which reason cannot penetrate, but which it never can sufficiently admire-a mystery which, in the inestimable value of our ransom, presents an infinite idea of the injustice of sin, and of the means of its expiation, an immense motive of repentance, an immense motive of confidence and hope.

-"But religion does not stop here; it removes also those other obstacles which men have thrown in the way of a return to virtue. The wicked man avoids the society of those who are not like himself, because he dreads those whom he thinks proud of their virtue. Is it likely that he would open his mind to persons who would take that opportunity of showing him their own superiority? What consolation would he derive from those who could not restore virtue to him, who stand aloof from him, lest they should appear contaminated, and who speak of him with contempt, that it may be always evident how much they despise vice? What consolation could those give him who thus force him to seek the company of persons who are equally guilty with himself, and who therefore have the same reasons for laughing at virtue? Mere human virtue has in it too much of the pride of the Pharisee, who compares himself with the publican, who stands far from him, for he imagines not that such a man can become his equal, and who would, if he were able, always keep him in the abjection of sin.

"But this divine Religion of love and pardon has instituted ministers of reconciliation between God and man - it urges them to be pure, that so their lives may inspire their words with confidence, that the sinner who approaches them may feel that he has returned to the society of the virtuous; but at the same time it urges them to be humble, that while they are pure the sinner may recur to them without fear of being repulsed. The sinner will approach without dread to the man who confesses that he too is a sinner; to the man who on hearing his offences gives him assurance, that he who confesses his sin is dear to God, who sees in the repenting sinner the grace of him who calls back the hearts of men to himself. No, the sinner need not dread the man who beholds in him the wandering sheep borne home on the shoulders of the Good Shepherd, who regards the man at his feet as an object of joy to the heavenly choirs-ah no! he need not dread the man who handles his wounds with compassion and respect, who sees them already moistened with that divine blood, which he is about to invoke over them. O, astonishing wisdom of the religion of Christ! It imposes on the penitent certain works of satisfaction, by which the change in his heart may become more evident, and that he may perform acts contrary to those he practised in his errors-acts, by

which he may be strengthened in virtuous habits, and in the victory over himself-acts, by which he maintains charity in his heart, and compensates in a measure for the evil he has done. For Religion not only will not grant him pardon, unless he remedies, as far as in him lies, the injury he has done his neighbour; but she also subjects him to penance for every kind of sin, which is nothing less than an increase of every virtue. She enjoins her ministers to ascertain as much as possible the reality of this repentance and resolution of amendment an enquiry this, which must tend not only to prevent an encouragement of vice by the facility of pardon, but also to give a more consoling ground of confidence to the man who truly repents; yes! she is all anxiety and pity. And if her ministers without reason forgive him who is not really changed, she warns them that, instead of absolving him, they will themselves be bound; so great is her care lest man should change into poison the remedies that God in his mercy has bestowed upon our weakness.

"The man who is admitted to penance with these dispositions is certainly in the road to virtue. He who has heard the consoling word from the minister of the Lord that he is absolved, feels re-established in the possession of his innocence; he begins anew to walk in the right way with cheerful step, and with the greater fervour in proportion as he feels that virtuous sentiments and actions are the means that Religion presents to him to increase his confidence, that his footsteps in that crooked way are blotted out.

Religion, then, receives a man from the world in a state of crime, and she restores him to it in a state of virtue; nor was it in the power of any other than Religion to effect such a change. What mortal mind could ever have conceived, where is the man who would have ventured to institute an order of men, whose object should be to wait for the sinner, to seek him out, to teach virtue, to call back to it him who applied to them, to speak to him with that sincerity which in the world is not found, to put him on his guard against every delusion, and to console him in proportion as he amends ?"

Passing over the ninth chapter, which treats of the Delay of Conversion, we find the question of ecclesiastical revenues lucidly discussed in the tenth chapter of this interesting work. The predominant spirit of the age is hostile to the clergy the natural result of the unparalleled injustice of which various nations have, in modern times, rendered themselves guilty towards a body to which society owes its civilization, and man his freedom. And yet there is no surer criterions of the irreligion, and, consequently, of the immorality of a people, than a spirit of irreverence and hostility towards the ministers of religion. We know that the ministry can be distinguished from the men invested with it: we know the kingdom of Him whose deputies they are, is not of this world; but we also know that they form a portion of society, which, more than any other, is calculated to promote its happiness, but which, unfortunately, more than any other, is too frequently the object of suspicion when not the victim of outrage. In almost all countries of Europe at the present day, the civil power seeks to assume the mastery of the Church as well as of the State; and in our own country we need not do more than allude to the scandalous scenes that have from time to time been exhibited in certain localities by some misguided Catholics—if indeed they deserve the name who, in their sacrilegious attempts to domineer over the clergy, have shewn themselves as regardless of decency as they are destitute of correct principle. The causes of the unhappy feeling whence these afflicting excesses have sprung, are pointed out in the following passage of our author, which closes his tenth chapter, and with which we are forced to close our examination of the work, our observations having already too far extended the limits which can be assigned to them in a monthly periodical.

"They, who point out to us the narrow path of salvation who combat our inclinations, and who, by their very habit, remind us that there is a Judge, whose ministers they are that there is a ministry to bind and to loose, and that there is an example they are appointed to hold forth to our imitationalas! they present an occasion too tempting for our corrupt senses to suffer it to escape: the aversion of flesh and blood for the law is too deep-rooted not to extend itself to those who preach obedience to it, while it suggests the insinuation that they at least follow it not, and have, therefore, the less right to oblige us to do so, who learn it from them. It is this aversion which in part leads us to blame them all for a fault that is confined to a very few; which urges us to say, that nothing would be more worthy of our respect than the ministry of the Church, if only there were any who discharged the office worthily, while we shut our eyes to any individual who is presented to our view as one that does discharge it worthily, or we misrepresent the virtues, the existence of which we cannot deny. Hence, if the zealous conduct of a priest, whose voluntary poverty and generosity are too evident, forbids the suspicion of avarice, he will at least be accused of wishing to rule men, to direct or influence them, and thus to secure honour. If his conduct be so far removed from intrigues, so candid and so simple as to rebut this insinuation, he is at least a restless fanatic, or an intolerant zealot. If his conduct breathe nothing but love, tranquillity and patience, it is attributed to prejudice, to littleness of mind, or an unenlightened judgment-admirable reasons by which the world accounts for the very perfection of all virtue, and for the brightest triumph of the reasoning power of man.

"Yes! there are priests, who despise those riches, of which they announce the vanity and the danger priests who would blush to receive a gift from the poor man, but would defraud themselves to succour him in his need who receive from the rich with a noble modesty and an inward feeling of repugnance—who, when they stretch out their hand, console themselves only with the thought that they shall soon open it again to distribute among the poor that money which, in their eyes, is far from compensating a ministry that can have no adequate reward but in the love of their God. They pass through the world, and hear its jests on the covetousness of priests-they hear them, and they could lift up their voice and show their pure hands, and a heart only anxious for those treasures which neither moth nor rust doth corrupt- covetous only of the salvation of their brethren - but they forbear; they are silent ; they devour with eager joy the scornful insults of the world, exulting that they are counted worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Christ. (Acts v. 41.)"

We cannot close this delightful volume without expressing our surprise that none of our Catholic publishers have thought of giving an American edition of so valuable a production. Sure we are, that some such work is much wanted in this country, and we have no doubt would at once command an extensive sale. In case the suggestion here thrown out is taken up, we would further suggest that the French quotations which the translator a distinguished convert to our faith - has left in such abundance, be done into English, and incorporated with the text, while the original French may be preserved at the bottom of the page, so that the mere English reader may not be ever and anon reminded of his deficiency- a most annoying sensation in this enlightened age; and at the same time the very words of Sismondi be retained, that no second opinion may be had as to the sentiments attributed to him. With these slight modifications, the re-publication of this volume would be eminently useful; nor do we think that, at the present moment, when the public attention is directed by so many and varied causes to the subject of our religion, such a