with angels who bring her messages from God, all this may excite the credulity of some and the raillery of others, but certainly it will not cost society a drop of blood or a tear. As to the founders of religious orders, in what way are they subject to the charge of fanaticism? Let us pass in silence the profound respect which their virtues deserve, and the gratitude which humanity owes them for the inestimable benefits conferred; let us suppose that they are deceived in all their inspirations; we may certainly call this delusion, but not fanaticism. We do not find in them either frenzy or violence; they are men diffident in themselves, who, when they believe that they are called by Heaven to a great design, never commence the work without having prostrated themselves at the feet of the Sovereign Pontiff; they submit to his judgment the rules for the establishment of their orders, they ask his instruction, listen to his decision with docility, and do nothing without having obtained his permission. How, then, do these founders of orders resemble the fanatics, who, putting themselves at the head of a furious multitude, kill, destroy, and leave everywhere behind them traces of blood and ruin? We see in the founders of religious orders men who, deeply impressed with an idea, devote themselves to realise it, however great may be the sacrifice. Their conduct constantly shews a fixed idea, which is developed according to a preconcerted plan, and is always highly social and religious in its object: above all, this is submitted to authority, maturely examined and corrected by the counsels of prudence. An impartial philosopher, whatever may be his religious opinions, may find in all this more or less illusion and prejudice, or prudence and address; but he cannot find fanaticism, for there is nothing there which resembles it. CHAPTER IX. INCREDULITY AND INDIFFERENCE IN EUROPE THE FRUITS OF PROTESTANTISM. THE fanaticism of sects, which is excited, kept alive, and nourished in Europe by the private judgment of Protestantism, is certainly an affliction of the greatest magni tude; yet it is not so mischievous or alarming as the incredulity and religious indifference for which modern society is indebted to the pretended Reformation. Brought on by the scandalous extravagances of so many sects of soidisant Christians, incredulity and religious indifference, which have their root even in the very principle of Protestantism, began to shew themselves with alarming symptoms in the 16th century; they have acquired with time great diffusion, they have penetrated all the branches of science and literature, have produced an effect on languages, and have endangered all the conquests which civilisation had gained during so many ages. Even during the 16th century, and amid the hot disputes and religious wars which Protestantism had enkindled, incredulity spread in an alarming manner; and it is probable that it was even more common than it appeared to be, as it was not easy to throw off the mask at a period so near to the time when religious convictions had been so deeply rooted. It is very likely that incredulity was propagated disguised under the mantle of the Reformation, and that sometimes enlisting under the banner of one sect and sometimes of another, it laboured to weaken them all, in order to set up its own throne on the general ruin of faith. It does not require a great effort of logic to pass from Protestantism to Deism; from Deism to Atheism, there is but a step; and there must have been, at the time when these errors were broached, a large number of persons with reasoning powers enough to carry them out to the fullest extent. The Christian religion, as explained by Protestants, is only a kind of philosophic system more or less reasonable; as when fully examined, it has no Divine character. How, then, can it govern a reflective and independent mind? Yes, we will add, one glance thrown on the first exhibitions of Protestantism must have been enough to incline all those to religious indifference who, naturally disinclined to fanaticism, had lost the anchor of the Church's authority. When we consider the language and conduct of the sectarian leaders of that time, we are strongly inclined to suspect that they laughed at all Christian faith; that they concealed their indifference or their Atheism under extraor dinary doctrines proper to serve as a standard, and they propagated their writings with very bad faith, while they disguised their perfidious intention of preserving in the minds of their partisans sectarian fanaticism. Thus it was that good sense dictated to the father of the famous Montaigne, when, having only seen the preludes of the Reformation, he said, "that this beginning of the complaint would easily degenerate into execrable Atheism." A very remarkable testimony, which has been preserved to us by his son himself, who was certainly neither weak or hypocritical. (Essais de Montaigne, liv. ii. chap. 12.) When this man pronounced so wise a judgment on the real tendency, did he imagine that his own son would confirm the justness of his prediction? Every body knows that Montaigne was one of the first sceptics who became famous in Europe. It was requisite, at that time, for men to be cautious in declaring themselves Atheists or indifferentists, among the Protestants themselves; and it may readily be imagined that all the unbelievers had not the boldness of Gruet; yet we may believe the celebrated theologian of Toledo, Macon, who said, at the beginning of the first part of the 16th century, "That the heresy of the Atheists, of those who believed nothing, had great strength in France and in other countries." Religious controversy continued to occupy the attention of all the savans of Europe, and during this time, the gangrene of incredulity made great progress. This evil, from the middle of the 17th century, assumed a most alarming aspect. Who is not dismayed at reading the profound thoughts of Pascal on religious indifference? and who has not felt, in reading them, the emotion which is caused in the soul by the presence of a dreadful evil? It is true that great progress had then been made, and that the unbelievers were not far from being in a position to take their rank among the schools who disputed for the upper hand in Europe. With more or less of disguise, they had already shewn themselves under the form of Socinianism a long time ago; but that did not suffice, for Socinianism bore at least the name of a religious sect, and irreligion began to feel itself strong enough to appear under its own name. The last part of the 17th century presents a crisis which is very remarkable with respect to religion ;—a crisis which perhaps has not been well examined, although it exhibits some very remarkable facts; I allude to a lassitude of religious disputes, marked by two tendencies diametrically opposed to each other, and yet very natural: one towards Catholicity and the other towards Atheism. Every one knows how much disputing there had been up to this time, on religion; religious controversies were the prevailing taste, and it may be said that they formed the principal occupation not only of ecclesiastics, both Catholic and Protestant, but even of the well educated laity. This taste has penetrated the palaces of kings and princes. The natural result of so many controversies was to disclose the radical error of Protestantism: then the mind, which could not remain firm on such slippery ground, was obliged, either to adopt authority, or abandon itself to Atheism or complete indifference. These tendencies made themselves very perceptibly felt; thus it was that at the very time when Bayle thought Europe sufficiently prepared for his incredulity and scepticism, there was going on an animated and serious correspondence for the reunion of the German Protestants with the Catholic Church. Men of education are acquainted with the discussions which took place between the Lutheran Molanus, abbé of Lockum, and Christopher, at first Bishop of Tyna, and afterwards of Newstad. The correspondence between the two most remarkable men at that time in Europe of both communions, Bossuet and Leibnitz, is another monument of the importance of these negotiations. The happy moment was not yet come; political considerations, which ought to have vanished in the presence of such lofty interests, exercised a mischievous influence on the great soul of Leibnitz, and he did not preserve, throughout the progress of the discussions and negotiations, the sincerity, good faith, and elevation of view, which he had evinced at the commencement. The negotiation did not succeed, but the mere fact of its existence shews clearly enough the void which was felt in Protestantism; for we cannot believe that the two most celebrated men of that communion, Molanus and Leibnitz, would have advan F ced so far in so important a negotiation, unless they had observed among themselves many indications of a disposition to return to the bosom of the Church. If we add to this, the declaration of the Lutheran university of Helmstad in favour of the Catholic religion, and the fresh attempts at a reunion made by a Protestant prince, who addressed himself to Pope Clement XI., we have strong reasons for believing that the Reformation felt itself mortally wounded. But the profound wisdom of God had decided otherwise. In allowing men to pursue their own opposite and perverse inclinations, He was pleased to chastise them by means of their own pride. The tendency towards unity was no longer dominant in the next century, but gave place to a philosophic scepticism, indifferent towards all other religions, but the deadly enemy of the Catholic. It may be said that at that time there was a combination of the most fatal influences to hinder the tendency towards unity from attaining its object. Already were the Protestant sects divided and subdivided into numberless sections, and although Protestantism was thereby weakened, yet, nevertheless, it was diffused in the greater part of Europe; the germ of doubt in religious matters had inoculated the whole of European society. There was no truth which had escaped attack; no error or extravagance which had not had apostles and proselytes; and it was much to be feared that men would fall into that state of fatigue and discouragement which is the result of great efforts made without success, and into that disgust which is always produced by endless disputes and great scandals. To complete the misfortune, and to bring to a climax the state of lassitude and disgust, there was another evil, which produced the most fatal results. The champions of Catholicity contended, with boldness and success, against the religious innovations of the Protestants. Languages, history, criticism, philosophy, all that is most precious, rich, and brilliant in human knowledge, had been employed in the noblest way in this important struggle; and the great men who were most prominent among the defenders of the Church seemed to console her for the sad losses which she had sustained owing to the troubles in another age. But while she enclosed within her arms these zealous sons, those who boasted the most of being so, she observed in some of them, with surprise and dread, an attitude of disguised hostility; and in their thinly veiled language and conduct she could easily perceive that they meditated giving her a fatal blow. Always asserting their submission and their obedience, but never submitting or obeying; continually extolling the authority and Divine origin of the Church, and carefully concealing their hatred of her existing laws and institutions under cover of professed zeal for the re-establishment of ancient discipline; they sapped the foundations of morality, while they claimed to be its earnest advocates; they disguised their hypocrisy and pride under false humility and affected modesty; they called firmness obstinacy, and strength of mind wilful blindness. This rebellion presented an aspect more dangerous than any heresy; their honeyed words, studied candour, respect for antiquity, and the éclat of learning and knowledge, would have contributed to blind the best informed, if the innovators had not been distinguished by the constant and unfailing characteristic of all erroneous sects, viz. hatred of authority. They were seen from time to time struggling against the declared enemies of the Church, defending, with great display of learning, the truth of her sacred dogmas, citing, with respect and deference, the writings of the holy fathers, and declaring that they adhered to tradition, and had a profound veneration for the decisions of councils and Popes. They particularly prided themselves on being called Catholics, however much their language and conduct were inconsistent with the name. Never did they get rid of the marvellous infatuation with which they denied their existence as a sect; thus they persuaded ill-informed persons that there was the fatal scandal of a dogmatical dispute prevailing within the bosom of the Church herself. The Pope declared them heretics; all true Catholics bowed to the decision of the Vicar of Jesus Christ; from all parts of the world a voice was unanimously raised to pronounce anathema against all who did not listen to the successor of St. Peter; but they themselves, denying and eluding all, persisted in considering themselves as a body of Catholics oppressed by the spirit of relaxation of discipline, abuse, appeared above the literary horizon a young and intrigue. This scandal got possession of men's minds, and the fatal gangrene which infected European society soon developed itself with frightful rapidity. The religious disputes, the multitude and variety of sects, the animosity which they shewed against each other, all contributed to disgust with religion itself all who were not held fast by the anchor of authority. To establish indifference as a system, atheism as a creed, and impiety as a fashion, there was only wanting a man laborious enough to collect, unite, and present in a body all the numerous materials which were scattered in many works; a man who knew how to give to all this a philosophical complexion suitable to prevailing taste, and who could give to sophisms and declamations that seductive appearance, that deceptive form and dazzling éclat by which the productions of genius are always marked, in the midst even of their wildest vagaries. Such a man appeared in the person of Bayle. The noise which his famous dictionary made in the world, and the favour which it enjoyed from the beginning, shew how well the author had taken advantage of his opportunity. The dictionary of Bayle is one of those books which, considered apart from their scientific and literary merit, always serve to denote a remarkable epoch, because they share, together with the fruits of the past, the clear ception of a long future. The author of such a work is not distinguished so much on account of his own merit, as because he knew how to become the representative of ideas previously diffused in society, but floating about in a state of uncertainty; and yet his name recalls a vast history, of which he is the personification. The publication of Bayle's work may be regarded as the solemn inauguration of the chair of infidelity in Europe. The sophists of the 18th century found at hand an abundant repository of facts and arguments; but to render the thing complete, there was wanting a hand capable of retouching the old paintings, of restoring their faded colours, and of shedding over all the charms of imagination and the refinement of wit; there was wanting a guide to lead mankind by a flowery path to the borders of the abyss. Scarcely had Bayle descended into the tomb, when there per man, whose great talents were equalled by his malice and audacity, Voltaire. It was necessary to draw the reader's attention to the period which I have just described, to shew him how great was the influence exercised by Protestantism in producing and establishing in Europe the irreligion, atheism, and fatal indifference which have caused so many evils in modern society. I do not mean to charge all Protestants with impiety; and I willingly acknowledge the sincerity and firmness of many of their most illustrious men, in struggling against the progress of irreligion. I am not ignorant that men sometimes adopt a principle and repudiate its consequences, and that it would, therefore, be very unjust to class them with those who openly accept those consequences; but on the other hand, however painful it may be to Protestants to avow that their system leads to atheism, it is nevertheless a fact which cannot be denied. All that they can claim of me on this point is, not to criminate their intentions; after that, they cannot complain, if, guided by the instructions of history and philosophy, I develope their fundamental principle to the fullest extent. It would be useless to sketch, even in the most rapid manner, what has passed in Europe since the appearance of Voltaire : the events are so recent, and have been so often discussed, that all that I could say would be only a useless repetition. I shall better attain my object by offering some remarks on the actual state of religion in Protestant countries. Amid so many revolutions, and when so many heads were turned, when all the foundations of society were shaken, and the strongest institutions were torn out of the soil in which they were so deeply rooted, when even Catholic truth it self could not have been sustained without the manifest aid of the arm of the Most High, we may imagine the fate of the fragile edifice of Protestantism, exposed, like all the rest, to so many and such violent attacks. No one is ignorant of the numberless sects which abound in Great Britain, of the deplorable condition of faith among the Swiss Protestants, even on the most important points. That there might be no doubt as to the real state of the Protestant religion in Germany, that is, in its native country, there where it was first established as the dearest patrimony, the Protestant minister Baron Starch took care to tell us, that "in Germany there is not one single point of Christian faith which has not been openly attacked by the Protestant ministers themselves." The real state of Protestantism appears to me to be truly and forcibly painted by a curious proposal by J. Heyer, a Protestant minister: Heyer published in 1818, a work entitled Coup d'œil sur les Confessions de Foi; not knowing how to get out of the difficulty in which all Protestants found themselves placed when they had to choose a symbol, he proposed the simple expedient of getting rid of all symbols. The only way which Protestantism has of preserving itself, is to violate as much as possible its own fundamental principle, by withdrawing the right of private judgment, and inducing the people to remain faithful to the opinions in which they have been educated, and by carefully concealing from them the inconsistency into which they fall, when they submit to the authority of a private church, after having rejected the authority of the Catholic. But they have not succeeded in doing so; and in spite of the efforts of some Protestants with this object, Bible Societies, working with a zeal worthy of a better cause, in promoting among all classes the private interpretation of the Bible, have sufficed to keep the spirit of inquiry alive. This diffusion of the Bible operates as a constant appeal to private judgment, which after perhaps causing many days of sorrow and mourning to society, will eventually destroy the remains of Protestantism. All this has not escaped the notice of its disciples; and some of the most remarkable among them have raised their voices to point out the danger. CHAPTER X. CAUSES OF THE CONTINUANCE OF PROTESTANTISM. AFTER having clearly shewn the intrinsic weakness of Protestantism, it is natural to ask this question: If it be so feeble, owing to the radical defects of its constitution, why has it not by this time completely disappeared? If it bear in its own breast the seeds of death, how has it been able so long to withstand such powerful adversaries, as Catholicity, on the one hand, and irreligion or Atheism, on the other? In order to resolve this question satisfactorily, it is necessary to consider Protestantism in two points of view; as embodying a fixed creed, and as expressing a number of sects, who, in spite of their numerous mutual differences, agree in calling themselves Christians, and preserve a shadow of Christianity, although they reject the authority of the Church. It is necessary to consider Protestantism in this double point of view, since its founders, while endeavouring to destroy the authority and dogmas of the Roman Church, were compelled to form a system of doctrines to serve as a symbol for their followers. Considered in the first aspect, it has almost entirely disappeared; we should rather say it scarcely ever had existence. This truth is sufficiently evident from what I have said of the variations and actual condition of Protestantism in the various countries of Europe; time has shewn how much the pretended Reformers were deceived, when they fancied that they could fix the columns of Hercules of the human mind, to repeat the expression of Madame de Staël. Who now defends the doctrines of Luther and Calvin? Who observes their limits? What Protestant Church distinguishes itself by the ardour of its zeal in preserving any particular dogmas? What Protestant now holds the divine mission of Luther, or believes the Pope to be Anti-Christ? watches over the purity of doctrine, and points out errors? Who opposes the torrent of sectarianism? Who In Do we find, in their writings, or in their discourses, the energetic tones of conviction, or the zeal of truth? In fine, what a wide difference do we find when we compare the Protestant Church with the Catholic! quire into the faith of the latter, and you will hear from the mouth of Gregory XVI., the successor of St. Peter, the same that Luther heard from Leo X. Compare the doctrine of Leo X. with that of his predecessors, you will always find it the same up to the Apostles, and to Jesus Christ Himself. If you attempt to assail a dogma, if you try to attack the purity of morals, the voice of the ancient Fathers will denounce your errors, and in the middle of |