the Human in Him which are the deepest springs of our nature. As Mr. Browning has said:

Love, hope, fear, faith-these make humanity,

These are its sign and note and character.

The signatures of our kinship with God and of our immortality are often enough hidden out of sight-buried beneath the sin and the custom

which lie upon us with a weight

Heavy as frost and deep almost as life.

But they are there; and to these the Christ appeals. The dogma, not of a future retribution which a healthy conscience demands, but of an endless hell, counteracts that appeal and must be shaken off before the heart of Christianity shall be set at liberty to win back to God the heart of man.

We have made large use in this paper of the poets-often better and truer teachers than the theologians. We may be permitted to conclude it with a few lines of Coventry Patmore, which sum up our best thoughts of God. The poet has struck his disobedient child, and sent him from his presence" with hard words and unkissed." Visiting his bed, he finds the sleeping child's face wet with tears, and his playthings, "to comfort his sad heart," ranged by his side:

So, when that night I prayed

To God, I wept and said:

Ah, when at last we lie with tranced breath,

Not vexing Thee in death,

And Thou rememberest of what toys

We made our joys,

How weakly understood

Thy great commanded good,

Then, fatherly not less

Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay,

Thou'lt leave Thy wrath, and say

"I will be sorry for their childishness."

CHARLES SHAKSPEARE.

THE RELIGIOUS SITUATION IN FRANCE.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MODERN REVIEW.

OU ask me to give your readers my views on the religious situation in France. The question is a wide one, very difficult to consider in all its aspects; and it needs some boldness to respond to your appeal. However, I will attempt to do so, if it be only to offer you a proof of my warm sympathy with the work which you have undertaken.

Wellington said, I think, that it is as difficult to give an account of a battle as to describe a ball; for each of the actors in it sees only the very narrow space in which he plays his part. But there at least we have to do with facts, with actions which take place within the range of our senses; whilst the religious evolution of a people, or of a generation, cannot be determined or measured by means of mere outward observation. The things we see or hear may lead us into error; for what appear on the surface are the broken branches and the faded leaves, the institutions or the beliefs, which have fallen to the ground; while the roots of the new plants are hidden deep down in the earth, the germs of the new harvest sleep in the furrow, in the depths of those minds which cannot even give any clear account of the revolution of which they are the scene. The cries of those who are pulling down, or the noise of falling things, startle us, like the wind of autumn, which breaks off the dead branches and strews the ground with yellow leaves,

whilst nature in her modesty hides from us the mystery of the life which is preparing and moulding a new creation. The negative side of an evolution of humanity is the most accessible, the most apparent; but we should be guilty both of precipitation and of injustice, if we were to judge a moral situation from so narrow a point of view. To use the phrase of Marcellus in Hamlet, "something is rotten" in the religious conscience of our country; and not in that of our country alone. All Europe is drawn into the same crisis, and is struggling with the same problems. The crisis may, perhaps, appear more acute in France because it is not confined to the discussions or studies of specialists, of theologians or scholars, but comes to the front in parliamentary debate, and in public meetings.

Since 1789 France has been striving to realise the idea that the State is a lay-institution-is ecclesiastically neutral, and in doing so she comes into collision with the Catholic Church, which Church has always insisted on her claim to inspire the governing powers, and to receive from them the homage and privileges which cannot be refused to that divine organisation which is commissioned to guard throughout the ages, and to interpret in an authoritative manner, the eternal principles of human conduct and faith. It is hard for you in England to realise the difficulties and obstacles which Catholicism has put in the way of the establishment of liberty in this country. Your political

customs and traditions were formed at a time the recollection of which has to some extent faded from the memories of our contemporaries. Still it must not be forgotten that during the period in which the political liberty of which you have a right to be proud was taking root in your country, you did not give the Catholic Church "fair play" amongst you. In these days, when habits of self-government are consecrated by custom, and pervade the atmosphere in which Catholics themselves move, you can afford to

consider with a calmly critical eye the display of the Catholic hierarchy and pomp. Your national life and the security of your liberties are not threatened by it, at least not in the near future; and you may abandon yourselves to the refined pleasure of the archæologist, or the artist, who observes with curiosity the activity of this Church, the nurse of humanity, who would fain take it up again in her arms to lull it to sleep to the sound of her plaintive litanies. But for France Catholicism is the shirt of Nessus, from which she is striving to free herself. Every effort, every failure, makes her more wrathful and less capable of self-control. It would, however, be supremely unjust to take these noisy and extreme manifestations as evidence of the settled state of our national conscience, and to proclaim that the people has stifled in itself all religious feeling. We do not judge the character of a soldier by his bearing, or by his shouts in the fray; we wait till he has come forth from the furnace, till he has regained his self-possession.

Without attempting to go over the whole of contemporary history, let us be content to carry ourselves back to the year 1848, and to that great movement of expansion which spread itself over all Europe. We witness at that time in Paris one of those generous impulses which in the life of peoples are like the return of the winds of spring-time to the bosom of nature. The heart of the nation was enlarged and lifted up by enthusiasm and goodwill. The harp of the poet seemed to have given the tone to the first act of the drama; and the Catholic clergy were surrounded with respect and sympathy, as apostles of the gospel of brotherhood which seemed to herald a new era to humanity. Neither religion nor the Church was looked upon with distrust; the democracy felt that the "Carpenter's Son " was one of them, and they gladly allowed the minister of the religion of love to be a partaker in the festival of liberty. Whenever the Church has not confounded

her cause with that of authority and government, and whenever the jealousy or the the enmity of power has thrown her back into opposition, she has thereby developed and renewed her Christian feelings, and has deserved the sympathy of the nation. Never was the Catholic Church more Christian, never did she represent more faithfully the spirit of the Gospel, than when she defended the inalienable rights of conscience against the victorious captain, and suffered persecution rather than submit to the will of the despot.

On the fall of Louis-Philippe, the Church managed very cleverly to take a new departure and to conciliate the popular favour. In a long seclusion, far from the excitements of the forum, she had succeeded in erasing the sinister recollections of the alliance between the throne and the altar. She had even opposed the monarchy of July, which was never in real sympathy with her in spite of the estimable piety of the queen Marie Amélie, and the very marked influence which Catholicism had, since 1840, been successful in gaining over the royal counsels. The attack on the University was made under the banner of liberty. Lacordaire reconstituted the order of St. Dominic, and brought back the white robe of an acknowledged religious order into the pulpit of Notre Dame; and he deeply stirred the youth of his time by an eloquence which did not shrink from invoking the spirit of liberty. So, when the throne of July fell amidst general disaffection, the Legitimist party and the clergy, who always stood secretly in relations of mutual understanding, very cleverly seized the opportunity which was offered them by this event to come forth from the shade and their state of inaction, and to rejoice with the people over the downfall of tyranny. They did not scruple to use this strong language; it chimed in with their own embittered feeling, with their desire for revenge, and it put them in unison with the popular impulse. Accordingly