It is the fashion of the day loudly to lament over the condition of that great mass—the people. Their wants and sufferings are paraded. We are told of their lives so burdened and monotonous, so rude and precarious, so much fatigue, yet so little effect, so much danger and ennui, work so heavy, repose so slight, a future so uncertain.

This is true. The condition of the masses in this world is neither easy, cheerful, nor certain. It is impossible to contemplate without deep commiseration so many human creatures carrying, from their cradle to their tomb, so grievous a burden, and withal scarcely able to meet their wants, the wants of their children, of their father, their mother; incessantly seeking some necessary of life for those most dear, yet not always finding it; having it perhaps to-day, uncertain of it tomorrow; and continually preoccupied about their material existence, scarcely able to give a thought to their moral being. It is painful, most painful to witness, most painful to reflect on. Yet is much reflection necessary. It were a grievous wrong and a grievous danger to forget it. More or less thought has been ever given to the subject. What said they who thought the most thereon?

They advised those who were the fortunate of this world to practise justice, goodness, charity; to apply themselves to seeking out and relieving the unhappy. To the unfortunate they recommended good conduct, moderate desires, submission to authority, resignation, and hope. They explained the destiny of man, showed all it possesses of sadness and sublimity, the compensations which are found in the different states, the pleasures which are common to all. They tried to cure, amongst the ills of men, those which men can cure; and, with regard to those which are incurable here below, they strove to raise men's eyes to the remedies in God's hands. This was the language of religion. These were the words and advice she addressed to high and low, rich and poor, to children in her catechisms, to men in her sermons, from the pulpit and from the sanctuary, by the sick bed, to all, at all seasons, and by every means.

The means of publicity and popular movement at that time belonged almost exclusively to religion. What the tribune, the press, the post—these trumpets of modern civilization—now are, the churches, the pulpit, religious instruction, pastoral superintendence formerly were Religion then addressed the masses. She never forgot the people. She was ever able to gain access there.

And while she thus interested herself for them, and strove to lighten or partly bear the burden of life, she also sympathised with men of all classes and all conditions, and with the burdens all bear, the blows which reach all, the wounds which all receive as they tread their appointed path.

To-day, while occupying ourselves much and justly with the material sufferings and fatigue which are shared by so many, we forget too much the moral fatigues and sufferings of which all partake; the trials, the agonies of the soul, the mistakes, the ennui, the anguish, in short, the universal lot of man—which are the more poignant as the mind has more freedom and life more leisure.

High or low, rich or poor, the elite or the multitude, let us pity each other, let us pity every one. We are all, as we advance in our career, "weary and heavy laden"; we all deserve pity.

We deserve it now more than ever. Never, it is true, has the condition of man been more equal or better. But the desires of men have far outrun their progress. Never was ambition more impatient and widespread. Never were so many hearts a prey to the thirst for wealth and pleasure. Pleasures refined and grovelling, a thirst of material well-being and of intellectual variety, a spirit of activity and luxury, of adventure and idleness: everything appears possible, desirable, and accessible to all. It is not that passion is strong, or that man is disposed to take much trouble for the gratification of his desires. He wishes feebly, desires immoderately; and the great scope of his desire throws him into a state of uneasiness, in which all that he already possesses appears but as the drop of water forgotten as soon as swallowed, and which irritates thirst instead of quenching it. The world has never seen such a conflict of imperfect desires, fancies, pretensions, exactions; never heard such a clamour of voices demanding together as their right all they have not and all that pleases them.

And these voices are not raised to God. Ambition, is at once extended and debased. When the teachers of the people were religious preceptors, they tried to detach the popular thought from the things of earth, and by raising desires and hopes to heaven, to restrain and calm them here. They knew that here, do what they might, satisfaction was impossible. The popular teachers of this day think otherwise and speak another language. In the presence of the hard lot and burning ambition of man, at the very time that they are displaying their misery and fomenting their desires, they are telling them that this earth contains what will satisfy them; and that if each be not as happy as he would be, it is not in the nature of things nor of his own nature that he should complain, but of the vices of society, and the usurpations of a certain class of men. All are placed in this world to be happy; all have the same right to happiness; the world can afford happiness to all.

Words like these resound daily in the ears of all, knock at the portals of every heart, penetrate by every crevice into the most remote folds of society.

And then we are astonished at the deep agitation and uneasiness under which nations and individuals, states and souls are labouring! For myself, I wonder the uneasiness is not greater, the agitation more violent, the explosion more sudden. Such ideas and such words are enough to set humanity astray and rouse it to revolt. And the preserving care of Providence, the innate and spontaneous wisdom which men cannot absolutely shake off, must be powerful to prevent such language—unceasingly repeated and universally heard—from plunging the world again into chaos.

No, it is not true that this earth possesses that which will suffice for the ambition and happiness of her inhabitants. It is not true that the untoward results or vices of human institutions are the sole or even the principal causes of the sad and painful lot of so many among men. Let these institutions become daily more just, more careful of the general welfare; it is the right of mankind. It is to the honour of our age that it adopted this thought and perseveres in trying to accomplish it. Former times took too light a share in the sufferings of the multitude. Their pretensions were too humble as regards justice and happiness for all. Ours are more extended, more lofty; and we give, with good reason, to our advance in this path the noble name of civilization. God forbid that we should turn aside from the noble work, or be discouraged about such a noble hope. But we must not feed ourselves with pride and illusion, we must not promise to ourselves that which we cannot expect to attain of ourselves and by our ingenuity. There is a defect in our nature and an evil in our condition which eludes all human efforts. The disorder is within ourselves, and were every other source dried up, would arise from ourselves and our own will. An inequality of suffering is amongst the providential laws of our destiny. It is at once superiority and infirmity, greatness and misery. As free beings, we can create and do in fact without ceasing create evil. As immortal beings, neither the secrets of our lot nor the limits of our ambition are on this earth, and the life we lead here is but a very short scene of the unknown life which awaits us. Regulate institutions as you will, distribute all enjoyment as you please, neither your wisdom nor your wealth will fill the abyss. The liberty of man is stronger than the institutions of society. The mind of man is greater than worldly goods. There will always be found in him more desires than social knowledge can regulate or satisfy, more sufferings than it can either prevent or cure.

"Religion, religion!" is the cry of universal man everywhere, at all times, except in some day of awful extremity or shameful degradation. Religion, to restrain or crown man's ambition. Religion, to sustain or support us in our griefs, whether referring to body or soul. Let not policy the most strong, the most just, flatter itself that it can effect this without religion. The greater and more extensive the social movement, the less able is it to direct tottering humanity. A higher power than any on earth is needed, a longer prospect than that of this life. God and eternity are necessary.

We require harmony also and agreement between religion and policy. Called to act on the same individual, and as a final attempt for the same result, how can they work together unless possessing a common basis of thought, sentiments, and designs? Whatever distance may intervene, there is an intimate connection between the earthly and religious ideas of men, between their desires for time and those for eternity. Did incoherence and contradiction alone exist, were our affairs, opinions, and hopes here completely estranged from those beyond this world, were religion capable only of improving and sustaining our actual life and society, their ideas, works, institutions and manners, far from serving the cause of, and mutually assisting each other would reciprocally fetter and weaken one another. The world would jest at piety, piety would take offence at the world, and that which should be upon earth the source of order and peace would become a fresh spring of anarchy and war.

And let neither religion or policy be alarmed about its independence and dignity. I do not wish that either should purchase by cowardly concession or costly sacrifice the harmony which ought to prevail between them. On the contrary, I wish they should on all occasions act according to the pure truth of things, and accomplish together their special and peculiar mission.

Clever men have looked upon religion as a source of order, a sort of social police, a useful and even indispensable matter, but otherwise without intrinsic value or any real and definite importance to the individual, unless to afford a chimerical satisfaction to certain weaknesses of the human mind and heart. Thence arises a superficial and hypocritical respect, which barely covers a disdainful coldness ill-calculated to resist any prolonged trial, which humiliates religion if she is content with it, or otherwise irritates and misleads her.

Great and religious men have in their turn looked on the world and the life of the world, either generally or at certain periods, as an evil in itself, an essential obstacle to the empire of divine laws, and to the accomplishment of our moral destiny. Hence the follies of ascetics and sectarians; hence, too, theocratic pretensions, pitiable mistakes of the spirit of religion, which has thus entered into hostility with human society, wishing now to flee from it, now to subdue it.

The errors on both sides are great and dangerous. Religious creeds seek to solve the fundamental problems of our nature and individual destiny. That is their first and chief design, greater even in their eyes than the maintenance of order in society. For this reason, and for this reason especially, respect is due to them; they deal with that which is most inward, most powerful, and most noble in man. And the policy which does not discern these facts, or discerning does not respectfully bow before them, shows itself futile, ignorant of the nature of man, incapable of guiding him at moments of importance.

On the other hand, this earth is not a place of banishment where man lives an exile. Society is not a scene of perdition, which a man must go through with disgust and terror. The earth is man's first country; God has placed him here. Society is the natural condition of man; God has made it for him. This world and social life do not bound our destiny; but it is in this world and by this social life that our destiny is begun and developed. We owe to society our assistance, given affectionately and respectfully, whatever the form of its organisation and the difficulties of our task. These forms and difficulties change with places and times, but they possess only a secondary importance, and make no change in the general condition or fundamental duty of man.

Religion, without being indifferent to what there is of true or false, good or bad, in the casual and variable part of the social world, attaches herself to what is essential and permanent, training men to go straight towards heaven beneath every sky and by every road.

It is the glory of Christianity to have been the first to place religion on this height, and in this the only religious point of view. And yet, neither reasons nor temptations were wanting at its origin, to make it denounce temporal society, and either separate from or declare war against it. Still it never dreamt of such a course. At the moment when the Christian faith restored to man his lost dignity and raised him to his forfeited position, she made herself liable for him without a murmur to slavery, despotism, iniquities, inequalities, incomparable miseries. Not one revolutionary intention or idea, to use a modern phrase, is to be traced near the cradle of Christianity. Christians in the name of their faith heroically resist persecution and tyranny, but they do not undertake to change the state of society or of mankind. They share in it, they adapt themselves to it, whatever its principles, forms, consequences. They do more. The world is old and corrupt; they denounce and vigorously resist its corruptions and vices: but they do not curse, they do not avoid the world. They view it with indignation yet with affection, with grief yet with hope. Rigid minds, ardent imaginations, take fright at the sight of the world, and fly to the deserts of the Thebais or retreat within the walls of a cloister. Brilliant apparitions are those who impress the minds of nations, and renew the well-nigh forgotten strife between austere and impure passions; but these are only exceptions in the history of Christianity, imposing and powerful indeed, but they do not characterise the Christian religion, do not predominate in it, do not constitute its essence and general tendency. Christianity has made monks, yet never was a religion less monkish. Never was a religion introduced into the world which entered more into it, more easily accommodated itself to it, to all its phases and all its facts. Opposed to this day in the very country which saw its birth, Christianity spreads to the east and west, to the north and south. It penetrates the old monarchies of Asia and the deep forests of Germany, the schools of Athens and of Rome, the wandering tribes of the desert; and nowhere does it disturb itself about traditions, institutions, governments; it allies itself and lives in peace with the most diverse societies. It knows that everywhere and amidst all the variety of social forms it can pursue its own work, that truly religious work, the regeneration and safety of the soul.

In later days, after a definite victory, amidst Roman ruins and barbarian chaos, through necessity as well as love of power, Christianity has sought and exercised a more direct and commanding influence over civil society; an influence sometimes salutary, sometimes opposed to the nature of things, and often injurious to religion itself. Yet taking things as a whole, and setting aside some remarkable deviations, the Christian Church has with admirable wisdom been a stranger, in her intercourse with the world, to all narrow and exclusive spirit; has never attached to any peculiar social regime her honor and destiny. She has lived in kindly and intimate relation with the most different governments, with social systems the most opposed, monarchy, republic, aristocracy, democracy. Here on a level with the state, there subordinate, elsewhere independent. Broad and varied in her internal organization, as called for by her external relations; always sedulous to maintain between social and religious life, between the ideas and feelings by which men hold to earth or ascend to heaven, that harmony by which heaven and earth both profit. In our days, owing to the course of events and reciprocal faults, this harmony has been profoundly affected. Religion and society have for some time ceased to comprehend and agree with each other. The ideas, sentiments, and interests which now prevail in temporal life are and have often been condemned and reproved in the name of those which pertain to eternal life. Religion sometimes pronounces her anathemas upon the new world, and keeps herself aloof from it. The world seems ready to abide by both anathema and separation.

The evil is immense; it is one which aggravates all our other ills, which takes from social order and private life their security and dignity, their repose and hope.

To cure this evil, to bring together the spirit of Christianity and the spirit of the age, the old religion and new society, to end their hostility, and to induce a mutual understanding and acceptance, is the origin of a work too little known, that called the "Universite Catholique" which its authors have continued for three years with the most praiseworthy perseverance.

Thanks be theirs; thanks to men so truly pious, so truly catholic, who cast over new society, over constitutional France, a glance so equitable and affectionate. This gleam of justice towards our day, this hope loudly declared that it will accept eternal truth and must not be cursed in her name, is a proof of high intelligence on their part. God forbid that with frivolous blindness we should soothe each other with flattery. Our society has gone astray more than once on the most important matters, and even while triumphant is smitten with a serious disorder. And yet our time is a great time, which has done great things and opened great destinies. This society, so stormy, so confused, so tottering, sometimes so chimerical and arrogant, sometimes so material and grovelling, has nevertheless done homage and lent force to that which is most elevated and divine within us, our intelligence and justice. Much truth is contained in the motto of her banner; and wishing that this truth might be efficacious; she has displayed, in order to make it penetrate into deeds, an energy and ability which have astonished the world and drawn it after her. Such boldness of conception, such power of execution, such a development of mind, of passion, of strength, so many results positive and visible obtained rapidly, the general progress of happiness, wealth, and order, of practical and plain justice in social relations and affairs,—is there nought here but error? Are these the symptoms of decline? Do we not rather recognise one of those formidable but beneficial crises brought on by providence when desirous to renew the world? Proclaim without reserve to society the evil it has done, the evil it is undergoing; point out in all their extent and gravity its errors, its faults, its omissions, its weaknesses, its excesses, its crimes; but do not expect her to yield to injustice or wrong. She knows what she is and what she may become. The good she has devised, the good she has done to mankind, she would have honoured and loved. On these terms only will she redress and direct. She is in the right. One must seek for, listen to, and trust severe though stern friends. Confidence should never be placed in an enemy.

I do not think that the authors of l'UniversitÉ Catholique render to society all the justice it deserves; but they have no concealed ill-will to it, no design against it. They understand and admit the essential principles upon which it is founded, and they try seriously and sincerely to re-establish between these principles and catholic doctrines, a harmony which shall not be merely superficial and apparent. Their plan is simple. After having traced a general outline of human sciences, together with the ties which unite them either among themselves or to the sublime unity to which they tend, they place therein special courses for each different science of material as of intellectual order, and try in those courses how to make religion penetrate into science, how science into religion, keeping both in sight, so that they may recognise, approach, and unite with each other in their common progress; consequently their body is a dumb university, where all science is taught by writings according to and in a catholic spirit, as they would be viva voce at a real university, where all the professors would be Catholics, truly devoted to their faith and their science.

I have no design of entering into the scientific merits of these courses, or of disputing all their assertions and ideas. Some, as the "Course of introduction to the study of Christian Truths," by M. l'Abbe Gerbet; the "Course on Christian Art," by M. Rio; the "Course on the General History of Hebrew Literature," by M. de CazelÈs; contain real instruction, elevated and ingenious views, and sometimes rare talent in style, and much attraction for the reader. In a literary review joined to these "Courses" one finds occasional articles, amongst others those by M. le Comte de Montalembert, full of curious research and noble sentiments; written too with a moral earnestness which pleases and touches, even when it goes beyond what is true. It would be easy to collect from the entire work sufficiently numerous traces of superficial science, somewhat vague philosophy, or declamatory literature. I might here and there detect, and this is more important, some traces of old habits, and of that old spirit of hostility from which the authors of the collection have in general tried to keep themselves clear. Possibly, had I the honor of seeing them, I might venture in the freedom of conversation to urge them to weigh carefully in this respect their sentiments and language, to preserve constantly between their ideas and expressions, agreement with the general intentions which animate them and at which they aim. Let them be in this sense strict censors of their own work. As for me, I cannot be one; I cannot seek underhand means as regards the execution of a great and just idea to which I wish success. I admit of incompleteness and imperfection, even incoherency in a human work, provided it be in itself good, and that good predominates in its effects as well as intentions. The pleasure of criticism is mean; and for my own part I feel none in pointing out faults which I should like to efface.

I prefer congratulating the authors of l'UniversitÉ Catholique on the firmness and fidelity with which they have remained faithful to their name and standard. In their excellent design, and on account of the conciliatory spirit which pervaded it, they encountered a shoal under their prow. They ran the danger of being induced to become effeminate and enervated, to pervert their own doctrines, the Catholic doctrines and spirit, in order to render their accommodation more in accordance with the ideas and spirit of the age. More than once analogous attempts, conceived in the best intentions, have split on this rock. It is thus that we have heard applied to natural religion and the general spirit of religion; these maxims that the dogma is of little consequence, the moral only being of importance, that various creeds must be brought back to those portions which they hold in common, and formulas and prayers be drawn up which may suit all alike: thence the desire to transform the great principles and facts of Christianity into symbols left to the interpretations of philosophy; those strange efforts also to unite the revolutionary with the religious spirit; or, lastly, those attempts to deny, or at least consign to oblivion the past of the Catholic church, her traditions, her customs, which ages and events have united with her, and substitute, under the name of Primitive, a newly invented Catholicism. False conceptions, vain endeavours, from which pious feeling and a certain knowledge of our social state have not always been free, but which denote little knowledge of human nature or religion, and a superficial appreciation of the means by which great institutions, whether religious or civil, are founded and endure. No doubt but that Catholicism has something, has much to do in order to adapt itself to all that is new in the world, and to take in our social system the place and part suitable to it. But let it be true to itself, let it not deny its origin, its history, its doctrine, its law; let it not stoop to cowardice or hypocrisy. It would lose its dignity which is essential to its strength, it would fail in obtaining the new strength which it needs. Were I not convinced that harmony may be re-established between the old religion and modern society with truth and honor to both, I would not counsel the attempt. God does not admit of the possibility of falsehood in such high positions for such great objects.

Let, then, l'UniversitÉ Catholique proceed in its course of exact and scrupulous orthodoxy. It is said, I hope truly, that she has many of the clergy for readers. They should be on their guard against attacks on these points. Sometimes, despite appearances of moderation, the attempts succeed, and strike a blow on the vital conditions of their existence. By others they are drawn into the very passions and pursuits from which their mission is mainly intended to keep mankind. Generally such have hitherto had but little success. The most recent example, that of M. l'AbbÉ de Lamennais, has eventuated in one of the most melancholy spectacles of error and fall that man can present. Surely there are here just reasons for distrust and hesitation. The authors of l'UniversitÉ Catholique are clearly aware of it themselves; for they have been careful to keep themselves clear of these unhappy flights, and to remain, in their own words, "immovably attached to the rock of the Church." They doubtless are so from conviction and duty. They should also be so from prudence, and attend to all the sentiments, scruples, and susceptibilities of the Catholic portion of the public. It is this public especially whom they address, it is the public whom they wish to enlighten, satisfy, reassure, and reconcile with the true progress, the accomplished facts and necessities of our time. That is really the great service wanted by modern society. Let them never lose sight of this essential end. And as to that part of the public which is ruled by the spirit of the age, no doubt their language should reassure and quiet it also, and draw it back to religion, for it has very justly its own susceptibilities and distrusts. But let not the authors of l'UniversitÉ Catholique deceive themselves; they will inspire the public with the greater respect and confidence according as they are themselves found serious and faithful. The public will be the more easily attracted to religion, as she presents herself stable and lofty; for, in the uneasiness which is now prevalent, the public aspire to something fixed and elevated, despite of the passions which still keep it wavering and abased.

Whilst in Catholicism this new religious and social movement, of which l'UniversitÉ Catholique appears to be the most serious manifestation, is beginning, an analogous work is going on in the other Christian communions, and reveals itself by remarkable signs. For many years something fruitful and active has been at work in French Protestantism. Almost immediately after the establishment of peace and international relations in 1814, the English dissenters, struck by the languid state of religion in France, and animated by faith and a strong desire for proselytism, undertook the task of awaking amidst their continental co-religionists the religious spirit, or, more precisely, Protestant Christian feelings. Journeys, correspondence, publications, sermons, pious associations—of which some, as the Bible Society, the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, the Religious Tract Society, possess extent and notoriety—were the instruments used to forward their design; a design which excited and still excites in French Protestantism some trouble and embarrassment. The established Protestant church was moved. Indifference took offence. Toleration and reason felt some alarm. Impressions not altogether at first void of reason; facts which deserve observation and watchfulness, but of which the importance in our society, and with the guarantees of our laws and customs, is, in my opinion, much less than that of the religious feeling which roused them, and its character and results. The Christian faith, the real and profound faith in the constituent dogmas of Christianity, is springing up again amidst Protestants, but accompanied by that liberty and assiduous search which alter the form of unity but keep up religious vitality; which cares less for the government of men's minds than for the internal life of their souls. This life has its instincts, its imperious and everlasting wants. There is no indifference, no authority, which does or can abolish or cause to be long forgotten the essential and eternal problems of our nature and destiny. Whence does evil spring in the world and in ourselves? How is it to be escaped? Is our own liberty sufficient? Is God's power over and in us needed? What are the relations here below and hereafter between God and our souls? What lot awaits us beyond this life, and how far do our resolutions and actions influence it? This is the definite and practical object of religion. These the questions to which mankind has, through all ages, in all the earth, in every condition, in the confusion of controversy, in the secret heart desired and asked an answer. This is promised to him by Christianity. The dogmas of that faith are replies to these questions, so vital to man generally and individually. These replies are contained in Christian books, and are succeeded by the precepts, the consolation, and the hopes which flow from them. To seek them there, to read them, to draw continually from that spring the means of opposing the evil inclinations, the passions, the weaknesses, the disquiet, the langour of the soul, thereby sustaining it in this world and regenerating it for eternity; such is the Christian Protestant spirit, the spirit which is again animating the French Protestants; the spirit which has had and may again have its faults, like all great ambitions and all great aspirations of the human soul, but which is nevertheless a spirit of true piety and true morality; which suffices for our most exalted intellects, and exercises for all, in all, the most salutary influence over our inward dispositions and outward actions.

Many periodical works, amongst them the Semeur, [Footnote 3] and the Archives of Christianity in the XIX. Century, are devoted to this spirit, and seek to satisfy and spread it.

[Footnote 3: The Semeur has ceased to appear.]

In them all publications, all the incidents which belong at home or abroad to Christian life, are examined, commented on, debated with a reality and earnestness of conviction always rare, but now especially so. Men of rare ability, too, and first of all M. Vinet, professor of French literature at Lausanne, write for the Semeur, and often with the most distinguished talent. I might find in these works, even without going very deeply into the question of their doctrines, some traces of political radicalism, very injurious to religion; and also, in matters of religion, traces of a severe and somewhat exclusive spirit, which, when dominant, tends to sectarianism and fanaticism. But clearly here as elsewhere the good spirit of the age, the spirit of light, of justice, and universal benevolence will every day make its way; will clothe the religious spirit of ideas and sentiments in words which will suit them admirably, but which they have not always worn. And thus here as elsewhere I prefer dwelling on what is good to what is evil. When the movement which is good preponderates, I believe in its power; I trust to it, strenuous as may be the opposition, tardy as its progress may appear.

Have we not besides, in liberty, liberty of conscience and speech, the most certain and efficacious of guarantees against fanaticism and religious despotism. L'UniversitÉ Catholique maintains, and will unceasingly uphold the maxims, traditions, and laws of Catholicism. At her side, the spirit of Protestantism reveals herself full of faith and vigour. And as in the bosom of Protestantism the Semeur and the Archives of Christianity do not express the feelings of all, other collections—the Protestant Review, the Free Enquiry, the Evangelist—labour to make clear and nourish another idea, more scientific, more attached to modern notions and a national church, more occupied in enlightening than deeply stirring the mind.

I do not doubt but that, in this fresh springing up of different beliefs, men interested in their success, and the different sections of the public whom they address, reciprocally inspire but little mistrust or disquiet; that the remembrance of ancient dislikes, ancient animosity still lurk in many a heart, and may break out afresh. It may be occasionally discerned, with all its want of reflection and its harshness. However, take it altogether, the spirit of antipathy and contest, which has so long prevailed in the religious sphere, is becoming weaker and less common. Each creed is more occupied about itself than about others; more anxious to impress the hearts that are inclined to its reception or have received it, than quarrel with those who maintain their own belief. This is the natural result of liberty, and the check imposed on every belief by the civil power which sustains it. It is also the most favourable condition for the very creeds themselves, as obliging them to proceed directly towards their true object, and prevents them from turning aside to alter or lower themselves in despotism or rebellion.

The spirit of religion comes again into the world to conquer but not to usurp. Religious creeds rise and increase together, at once free and contented; free to elevate themselves, to elevate souls to heaven, restrained by their mental liberty and by the independence of the civil power. Let us honor the community in the bosom of which such a sight is possible! It needs, it absolutely needs that religion should step in to purify and strengthen it; but religion can do her work there without dishonor or sacrifice, and when she can, it becomes her bounden duty to do so.