When I collected these moral sketches, which were written at different times and under varying circumstances, I did not think that I needed to add anything to them. A recent event, however, has determined me, in now publishing them, to say a few words more.

Having been called upon on the 30th of last April to take the chair at a meeting of the Protestant Bible Society, I expressed myself in these terms:—

What is after all, speaking religiously, the great question, the most important question which at present occupies the minds of men? It is the question in debate between those who acknowledge and those who deny a supernatural, certain, and sovereign order of things, although inscrutable to human reason. The question in dispute, to call things by their right names, between supernaturalism and naturalism. On the one side, unbelievers, pantheists, pure rationalists, and sceptics of all kinds. On the other, Christians.

"Amongst the first, the best still allow to the statue of the Deity, if I may make use of such an expression, a place in the world and in the human soul; but to the statue only,—an image, a marble. God himself is no longer there. Christians alone possess the living God.

"It is the living God whom we need! Our present and future safety requires that faith in supernatural order, that respect for and submission to supernatural order should again pervade the world and the human soul,—the greatest minds as well as the simplest, the most elevated classes as well as the most humble. The truly efficacious and regenerating influence of religious belief depends on this condition. Without it, all is superficial, almost worthless.

"We may, at this day, with safety strive to re-animate and propagate the Christian faith; for liberty—religious and civil liberty—is abroad to prevent faith begetting tyranny and oppression of the conscience—another sort of impiety. The friends of liberty of conscience may fearlessly return to the God of the Christian; there are no longer, nor will there ever henceforth be, captives or slaves around his altars. Let, then, Christian faith and piety return; they will bring back in their train neither injustice nor violence. Doubtless, much care must be taken and many contests sustained, in order that religious liberty may be preserved unharmed in the midst of growing religious fervour; but this beautiful harmony will be attained, and will do honour to our time. Between Christians of different communions there may exist henceforth but those struggles of free faith and piety, which alone are permitted by the law of God, and are alone worthy of His attention."

These words have been remarked upon, and either approved of or objected to, in very different senses, by philosophers and by Christians.

On the day after they had been uttered, Mr. Louis Veuillot said in l'Univers,—"Monsieur Guizot made a speech which we have read with a sentiment of respect and sympathy, mingled with some grief. It would be impossible for us to do otherwise than highly honour the man who makes, even a-propos of a movement which we do not approve and which is far from being good, so noble a profession of Christian faith. It would be impossible for us not to regret deeply that so great and generous a spirit, one so well formed to comprehend unity, and so naturally disposed to submit himself to it, not only does not perceive that he is out of place amidst the separated members of the mother church, but even takes the lead in a movement which has been and still is opposed strongly to the doctrine of that church. What is Christianity? It is authority. What is Protestantism? It is free inquiry; and the Protestant Bible Society is the practice of free inquiry driven to its last and indefinite limit."

On the same day M. Charles Gourand said in l'Ordre— "Monsieur Guizot's speech breathes at once the spirit of faith in revelation and love of religious liberty. But he must conform his practice to his precepts. If it is thought that there exists no serious difference between a rationalist, however thoroughly convinced and honest he may be, whether called Plato, Descartes, or Leibnitz, and an atheist; if it is thought that apart from the teaching of the church all religious belief is superficial and nearly vain; then there is no room for hesitation, it is within the pale of the true church, of that great Catholic Church, which from St. Paul to De Maistre, has bent under the same discipline so many haughty spirits and great minds, that an asylum and pardon are to be sought. For if it be allowable to insinuate that atheism is logical rationalism, it is still more so to say that Protestantism is but inconsistent rationalism. In fact, either private judgment has the sway in matters of faith; and has it entirely, for who can flatter himself that he can take a part in free enquiry and say to it, 'Thus far shalt thou go, and no further!' or else it is authority which bears rule. But neither can she, any more than private judgment, do so by halves; she must have all or nothing. A compromise between the two systems is chimerical; fusion is still more hopeless, if possible, in religious than in political systems."

I shall not discuss the matter; I shall lay aside every personal question, every controverted point, every argument. Controversy opens the abyss which it pretends to fill, for it adds the obstinacy of self-love to differences of opinion. To overcome objections raised by honourable and sincere men gives me but little pleasure. I have a higher desire. I aspire to unite myself with them in the truth. Two ideas fill my mind, and predominate on this subject. I wish to set them forth in pure and bright light. If I succeed, if I can transfuse them into other minds, they will do their own work, and render unnecessary the controversy from which I abstain.

It would not be worth while to live if we gathered from a long life, no other fruit than a little experience and prudence in the affairs of this world, against the moment of leaving it. The prospect of human affairs, and the inward trials of the soul, afford brighter gleams, which spread themselves over the mysteries of nature and the destiny of man, and of this universe in the midst of which man is placed. I have received from practical life, deeper insight into these formidable questions, than meditation and science have ever given me.

The first and most important is this. The world and mankind do not explain themselves naturally and simply by themselves, by the sole virtue of the fixed laws which preside over them, or of the passing determinations which display themselves. Neither nature and her power, nor man and his acts, suffice to explain the prospect which human intellect contemplates or catches a glimpse of.

Then, as nature and man are insufficient to explain themselves, it follows that they are equally so to govern themselves. The government of the universe and of the human race differs from that aggregate of natural laws and facts which human reason observes there, as much as from the accidental laws and facts which human liberty introduces.

That is to say, that beyond the natural and human order which falls under our notice, is the supernatural and superhuman order which God directs and developes beyond the reach of our researches.

And when man ceases to believe this to be the case, ceases to believe in this supernatural order, and to live under the influence of this belief, then disorder intrudes among men and societies of men, and there commits ravages which would infallibly lead to their destruction, did not the wise goodness of God restrain them in their faults, and render them incapable of absolutely withdrawing themselves from the empire of truth, much as they may misunderstand it.

That the religious question is now fairly raised between those who, more or less explicitly and from a variety of motives, do not admit this supernatural order of things, that is, the greater number of philosophers whatever their denomination; and those who really admit it, that is, all Christians; is what no serious mind can deny.

Do I mean then to put on a level and confound all who disallow supernatural order, whether unbelievers or sceptics, atheists or rationalists?

God forbid I should imagine, far less express, anything so absurdly and heinously wicked! I know the happy inconsistencies of the mind of man, and the clouds which, to the eyes of the most learned, cover the paths they are treading. Surely, between the impious man who denies God, and the rationalist who is satisfied that, without going further than nature leads, and taking for granted I know not what transformation, he has found and established a God,—the interval is immense; immense, doubtless, in the eye of divine justice, as well as of human equity. And such is our levity and intellectual depravity, that in this vast space eminent minds and ingenuous hearts may, and, alas! probably always will be met, at every step between gross materialism and pure deism. The variety and forms of error are infinite and infinitely varied; and man, when falling into it, makes infinite efforts to retain some fragments of truth; and God permits him to succeed or honestly persuade himself he has done so, which will one day prove his excuse or else be to him a plank of safety.

I admit all distinctions, all inequalities, all sincerity. I only affirm two things; one, that all the philosophic schools of our day, different as may be their systems and merits, have this in common, that they deny this supernatural order, and strive to explain and govern man and the world without its aid; the other, that where faith in this order does not exist, the bases of moral and social order are deeply and increasingly shaken, man having ceased to live in presence of the only power which really surpasses him, and which is able at once to satisfy and direct him.

Natural order is the field open to man's knowledge. Supernatural order is so in degree to his faith and hope; but knowledge does not penetrate it. In the order of nature man exercises a share of action and power; in supernatural order he has but to submit. It has been said in the spirit of conciliation and peace, "Religion and Philosophy are sisters who should mutually respect and protect each other." The words bear the stamp of the chimÆras of human pride. Philosophy springs from man; it is the work of his mind. Religion comes from God; man receives it, and often alters it after reception, but he does not create it. Religion and philosophy are not sisters. They are daughters, the one of "Our Father which is in Heaven," the other of mere human genius. And their condition in this world is no more equal than their origin. Authority is the apanage of religion; liberty is that of philosophy.

I now approach the second of the dominant ideas, more than ever essential to true order, and which I wish to bring prominently forward.

"Christianity," says M. Veuillot, "is authority." It is true; Christianity is authority, but it is not authority only; it is the entire man, all his nature and all his destiny. Now, moral obedience is the nature and destiny of man; that is, obedience in a state of liberty. God created man to obey His laws; he created him free that he might morally obey. Liberty, like authority, is of divine institution; the work of man is revolt and tyranny.

In the social state, authority and liberty need protection, and both have a right to it. There is need of control, both for the governors and the governed, for both are men. Hence political laws and institutions which now sustain, now limit power; that is, which decide on what conditions and by what means authority is to be exercised and liberty secured.

What is the measure of authority necessary for Government, what the extent of liberty possible in human society? What are the means of action, what the pledges to be given alike to authority and religion? Matters depending on circumstances, variable according to the times, the social condition, the manners, races, and different degrees of civilization amongst nations. It belongs to the politician to solve these questions.

When Christianity appeared in the world, appeal was first made to liberty, the moral liberty of man. This was necessary, as it came to abolish ancient creeds which were protected by the established powers. In this struggle, not only did growing Christianity never attack or question the existing authorities, but it formally acknowledged their rights, and while respecting them herself ordered others to respect them also. But at the same time, as regards the relations of men towards God, she appealed to the free consciences of men, and affirmed in principle the same liberty which she practised. "We must obey God rather than man," said St. Peter. "Try the spirits whether they be of God," said St. John. "I speak as to wise men, judge ye what I say," said St. Paul.

At the creation God prescribed obedience to men under penalty of death; in the day of regeneration God set man's liberty in motion to begin the work of salvation.

There is no partiality with God, no void in his designs; when he acts upon man he takes human nature as a whole; our inclinations, our wants, our interests, our various rights are all before his eyes. He at the same time provides for and satisfies all; authority as well as liberty, liberty as well as authority. It is a dangerous mistake to misapprehend this complete and harmonious character of the divine work, and to mutilate it by seeking weapons in it for our human dissensions. Christ came to save mankind, not to give a party triumph. Christianity began by invoking liberty and giving her action. She then overcame, and set forth her authority. She then accommodated herself to the various forms and degrees of authority and liberty which the course of events brought out here and there in the world. Associated with the destinies and deeds of the human race, Christianity has suffered for our mistakes and faults, and has been often altered and compromised by the waywardness of human liberty and authority. But by her origin and essence she is beyond the reach of their struggles, inexhaustible in her virtue to heal contradictory evils, and always ready to afford help on the side where danger threatens or redress is needed.

In the actual state of society and disposition, it is authority, and with authority order, which are in danger: Christianity owes them all her support. I know of no greater falsehood or more gross perversion than that of the men who in this day strive to turn the Christian religion to the promotion of that brutal and foolish anarchy which they denominate social democracy. The gospel and history are equally repugnant to this absurd profanation. The cause of civil authority and of the Christian religion is clearly common. Divine order and human order, the State and the Church, have common dangers and common enemies. May God grant them common wisdom; for while at the same time each separately and both in concert must re-establish authority in her position and rights, they must also solve another and newer problem, and satisfy other and pressing wants.

I have nothing to say to those men who think that for many ages society in Europe, and especially in France, governments as well as the minds of men, have pursued a totally wrong road, and that there is nothing in the prevailing character and tendency of our actual civilisation but error, corruption and decay. I understand that, thinking thus, they deem retrograde reaction necessary as well as legitimate, and venture upon it accordingly. As regards such, I can but express my profound conviction; that they will have no success. Even were they right, they would have no success. If they were right, modern society would be condemned to perish; we should make progress in decay; but we should not return to what is past. But they are not right. No one is more convinced than I am of the immense mistakes and fatal errors of our day. No one more fears and abhors the influence which the revolutionary spirit exercises among us, and the danger with which that threatens us; a human Satan, at once sceptical and fanatical, anarchical and tyrannical, eager to deny and to destroy, incapable alike of creating aught that can live or of allowing aught to be created and exist under its eye. I am one of those who think it absolutely necessary to overcome this fatal spirit, and to replace in honor and power the spirit of order and faith, which is the spirit of life and safety. But I do not believe that this revolutionary spirit preponderates in modern minds. I do not believe that our civilization has been for ages mere mistake and corruption. I do not believe in the irremediable evil, or inevitable decay of my time and of my country.

The characteristic, the most important part of modern civilisation is the prodigious increase of the ambition and power of man. Recall what has taken place in past ages and that which now goes on, the long series and vast mass of human toil and success of all kinds in all places, the many secrets laid bare by science, the many monuments raised by genius, the riches created by industry, the progress of justice, the ease introduced into the condition of the lowly as well as the great, the weak as well as the strong; man marching as a master over the whole space of the earth which he inhabits, and gauging with an accurate eye the worlds which he cannot reach; the mind spreading her discoveries and ideas through every recess of human society; matter in its every form subjected and made subservient to man's use; this expansive and ascendant ardour which circulates in the whole social body; this activity universal, incessant, and unceasingly fruitful, which puts every thing in motion, and works for the general good. Never has man advanced so rapidly to the conquest and dominion of the world; never in his capacity and with the powers of man has he exercised such a rule over nature and society.

I know how much there is here of evil and danger, of intoxication and miscalculation; these, however, are not the symptoms of decline, they are those of greatness and futurity. It is with this great fact, this enormous increase of the power and ambition of humanity, that Church and State, Christian and civil government have to deal henceforth. When, with the help of God and outward circumstances, they shall have brought man back to respect those eternal laws which he has so foolishly misconstrued; when they shall have again placed bounds to his power, and subdued the vanity of his pride, man will still remain powerful and haughty, conscious of his strength and full of desire for the rights which have excited his ambition. Where there is strength, by natural harmony and in a certain measure, power and liberty follow. What hereafter will be that measure? What share of influence will man, each individual man, exercise on his own and the public destiny? That is the problem; it may be solved, it cannot be eluded. The spirit of liberty has entered society in the train of the labours and progress of humanity; it may be kept in its proper sphere, it cannot be expelled.

Everywhere civil governments are aware of this, and act accordingly. I see the deepest injustice prevailing towards the governments of our day. It is false that they are indifferent to the welfare and progress of nations. It is false that they only look to stability and tyranny. They may doubtless feel personal passions, old errors; but whatever their form, they are all, from motives of prudence or duty, seriously impressed with the necessity of respecting the rights and ameliorating the condition of men. And those most opposed to liberal appearances make every day, in their laws and practice, a multitude of changes favourable to justice and liberty.

I say, too, that European governments, amidst the storms of the last sixty years, have conducted themselves, taking all into account, with great moderation. Their dignity incessantly insulted, their existence attacked, they have not given way, either during the struggle or after the victory, to those excesses of passion or power with which the history of the world has been so long filled. They may be shewn to have been neither foreseeing nor able in their methods, whether of resistance or concession to the new-born spirit; but it is unjust to set them down as its intractable adversaries. In the formidable strife of our day between governments and revolutions, history will surely not impute to the former the most insolent contempt of justice and liberty. And if the spirit of revolution were as moderate in its pretensions and acts, as governments have shown themselves disposed to be towards the spirit of progress, the great problem of the conciliation of order and liberty, in civil society, would be near its solution.

The government of religious society, or to speak with greater accuracy and freedom, the Catholic Church, has an analogous problem to solve; the more important because if the state of the minds of men is closely watched, it is seen that it is in the religious order that the idea of liberty is strongest and most deeply rooted. The right of conscience before God appears and is, in fact, very superior to that of conscience before men. If there be, in the life of the soul, one portion in which the intervention of force is more than elsewhere unrighteous and odious, it is clearly when the relation of the soul with her Creator and Judge is in question, and when the question for her is of eternity and salvation. Here, moreover, is a feeling which we have all experienced, a principle to which we have all paid homage. Christians or philosophers, Catholics or Protestants, we have all had and still have, even amidst the most civilized nations, need to invoke in our turn religious liberty, as that which, of all the cries for liberty, most surely arouses in the heart the idea of a sacred right and necessity, that which excites the most lively susceptibility and most general sympathy.

I feel a profound respect for the Catholic Church. She has been during centuries the Christian Church of all Europe. She is the great Christian Church of France. I look upon her dignity, her liberty, her moral authority, as essential to the fate of entire Christianity; and did I believe that the Catholic church could not, without self-abjuration, accept in the State the principle of religious liberty, I should be silent; for above all things I detest hypocrisy and subtlety. But it is not so.

Let the Catholic Church maintain fully her fundamental principles, her permanent inspiration, her doctrinal infallibility, her unity. Let her by her laws and internal discipline interdict to her faithful followers all that may tend to the injury of these; it is her right as well as her faith. But let her at the same time fully admit, not of the separation of the Church and State, that clumsy expedient which lowers and weakens both under the pretext of freeing both, but of the separation of spiritual and temporal order, of the civil and religious state, and acknowledge the illegality of all forcible interference in spiritual order, albeit in the cause of truth. Let her thus accept religious liberty as a law, not of religious society, but of policy, as a right not of the Christian, but of the citizen. At once will the pretended incompatibility between modern society and the Catholic Church disappear. The problem of peace between civil and religious society will be solved.

The Catholic Church can pursue this course; for all that religiously constitutes it, all her spiritual order thus remains intact and independent: and if she so pursues it; if, while she firmly upholds her principles and rights as a religious society, she accepts loyally the principles of our political order and the religious liberty which forms a part of it; not only will she lay the foundation of peace between herself and civil society, but she will assure to herself great strength and a great future. Christianity has many conquests to make and to repeat. For the re-establishment of social order and the moral welfare of the soul, she must regain much ground. Nor is it known how rapidly obstacles and resistance would disappear before her, if the dread of her old intolerance were dispelled, and respect for religious liberty on the part of the Catholic Church herself considered as assured.

I would go still further, and submit to Christians another consideration.

There is amongst Christians of whatever church a common faith. They believe in a divine revelation contained in the gospels, and in Jesus Christ who came upon earth to save the world.

For Christians of whatever church there is now a common cause. They have to maintain Christian faith and law against impiety and anarchy.

This faith and this necessity, common to all Christians, are of infinitely greater moment than all the differences which separate them.

Do I say that they ought at all hazards to set aside those differences, and in the name of their common faith and common danger undergo fusion,—to use an expression of the day,—and form hereafter but one and the same church?

I do not dream of it. The re-establishment of unity in the bosom of Christianity by the re-union of all Christian churches, has been the desire and the endeavour of the greatest minds, both Catholic and Protestant. Bossuet and Leibnitz have attempted it. Even now the idea is present to many noble spirits, and pious bishops have so expressed it to me, with a confidence by which I feel profoundly honoured. I respect the sympathetic wish, but I do not believe that it can be realised. Between temporal order and human interests, fusion, difficult as it may be, is always possible; for interests may be made to agree through the force and in the name of necessity. In spiritual order and between religious beliefs, no such agreement is possible, for necessity can never become truth. Faith does not admit of fusion; she insists on unity.

But where the unity of the church does not exist, when the fusion of different churches is impossible, and when religious liberty is established, there is room for practical good sense and Christian charity. Good sense tells Christians that they are all in front of the same enemy, much more dangerous to them than they can be to each other; for should he triumph, the blow will fall on each. Amongst the upper classes, the war against religion manifests itself only under the forms of reserved scepticism or rationalism; timid, often serious and polite, rather seeking to screen than display itself. But at the bottom of society, and amidst the masses, it is passionate impiety which is at work, and for the sake of victory becomes subservient to the most gross and furious interests. The Christian faith, in its essential and vital character, that is, faith and submission to supernatural Christian order, is alone capable of sustaining the contest. Let Christians, whether Catholic or Protestant, be convinced of it, the loss of credit and authority on either side would redound to the advantage not of Protestantism or Catholicism, but of impiety. It is then for all Christians, whatever their differences in their Christian sphere, an obvious interest and imperative duty to accept and maintain each other as natural allies against anti-christian impiety. It will require all their strength, all their united efforts, to triumph finally in this warfare, and save at once Christianity and society.

What interest dictates to Christians, Christian charity commands. I use without hesitation plain words to express the ideas and sentiments which I feel, and even amidst the coldness of heart which is one of the most melancholy evils of my day, I feel no embarrassment in speaking to Christians of Christian charity.

When religious struggles are the ruling passion and great practical business of an epoch,—when different creeds are arrayed, wielding temporal as well as spiritual arms, with the mutual hope of subjecting if not of extirpating,—I feel that Christian charity is difficult to exercise. The temptations are too strong, the interests too pressing to be surmounted. The Chancellor De L'Hopital and the President De Thou, though recommending peace to Catholics and Protestants, would hardly have dreamt, on the eve or the morrow of a massacre or a battle, of speaking to them of charity.

But when material strife has ceased, when religious liberty is established in manners as well as in the laws, when in fact and truth the different religious creeds are obliged to live peaceably one with another, why should not the desire arise of adorning and furthering peace by the exercise of charity? When the coarser passions are powerless, why should not the more mild and equitable feelings develope themselves? I know the force of traditions, of recollections, as well as the permanent differences which tend to support controversy, even when purely speculative. Nevertheless, prolonged peace and freedom have much influence in calming the soul. At this day we have before us a signal instance, and I do not hesitate to repeat that to which I gave utterance in the Bible Society:—"See what is passing in England; there, doubtless, the irritation of the Protestants is great, there is a general and passionate movement in favour of a popular and powerful faith. The government itself associates with and follows this movement. English Protestantism shows itself strongly inclined to seek security and satisfaction at the expense of the religious liberty of the Catholics. Well! although matters wear this appearance, nothing is really done; they dare not; they cannot; and in the bottom of their hearts they desire not to do so. Amidst this Protestant excitement, the religious liberty of English Catholics still remains and extends. They have liberty of worship; their churches are open, nay, increasing in number; their priests perform their duties without interruption: they possess the liberty of the press; they publicly defend their creed and their conduct, and have freedom of speech and power of voting in parliament, where they strenuously uphold their cause." A noble sight, which, after having justly filled the friends of religious liberty with uneasiness, ought now to give them every satisfaction. The spirit of persecution had reappeared, that of justice and liberty met it face to face, and in spite of appearances remained master of the field. May Christians, Catholic and Protestant, at last acknowledge it; it will be hereafter more natural than they imagine, to live in the exercise of Christian charity, for they have lost the habit, almost the power of efficacious oppression.

A few words more, and I have done. Under a well grounded and well understood system of religious freedom, not only can different religious sects live peacefully and harmoniously together, but can contribute, by their pacific co-existence, to their mutual religious prosperity. What has been for Catholicism in France one of the most glorious and pious periods? Surely, the seventeenth century. French Catholicism then flourished in the presence of Protestantism, which was still tolerated, and Jansenism, then in full vigour. What has prevented the Anglican church from falling into that apathy which has appeared more than once ready to overcome her? What but the neighbourhood of opposing and half free sects, who have always kept her in play, and forced her to overcome her langour? There is no establishment, no power, that is not benefited by a sense of control, and by the necessity of making an effort to maintain its position. It is good to overcome, not to exterminate an enemy; and in spiritual as in temporal orders, the reign of liberty bestows on all their just rewards. While it preserves their rights to the weak, it incessantly regenerates the victorious.

Doubtless, Catholicism leans on the principle of authority; but without detaching itself from this base, it can admit, and in the course of its career has often admitted, very different degrees of liberty. From the eleventh to the fourteenth century, while the Catholic church was for civil society a great school of authority, she was in her own bosom a great theatre of freedom. For in her councils, her congregations, her correspondence with the faithful, discussion between her chiefs was ever open and animated. It is not for me to ask whether our times advise or warrant a return to such methods of government; and I am rather disposed to hesitate than undertake the task. But one great fact strikes me; one which deserves, if I mistake not, the entire attention of the Catholic clergy: it is that the disposition of the mind and heart of the faithful who are under their charge is not always the same, and neither the same measure nor the same quality of religious nutriment is requisite at all times, if I may so speak, for Christian souls. After the fall of the Roman empire, when the mission of the Catholic clergy was to convert the barbarians, and to cause a little moral light to penetrate amongst the rude conquerors, and the miserable population who lived under their yoke, it was above all by the firm and striking exercise of religious authority that the priests were enabled to attain their end. They found amongst the Christian population, high and low, many passions to repress, and but few intellectual wants to satisfy. There was greater need to strike and to govern the imagination than to nourish and direct mental activity. Time and individuals are now different. Minds are now active, varied, curious, eager. The spiritual life of faithful Christians, of the most faithful as well as the most wavering, is infinitely more animated than it was formerly. Souls so disposed require a moral rule proportionably animated; one which, while it guides, may give to their innate activity a greater share of satisfaction. I am expressing a profound conviction,—one, I will venture to say, free from any reservation or ill-will,—when I say that henceforth the Catholic church, without any sacrifice of authority, will be obliged, for the government of the soul, to admit of more intellectual and spontaneous movement on the part of the faithful than was required in other times. Yet I am convinced that when once the Catholic church shall herself have acknowledged this new moral state of Christian society, she will also know how to provide for it.

In a recent publication, [Footnote 1] a justly eminent stranger, M. Donoso Cortes, speaking of me in terms which I cannot allow myself to repeat, said, "The great mistake into which M. Guizot has fallen, in his 'History of European Civilization,' is the having attempted the impossible task of explaining visible things by visible things, natural things by natural things; which is as superfluous as to explain a fact by itself, a thing by the thing itself; because all visible and natural things, considered as visible and natural, are one and the same thing."

[Footnote 1: Essai sur le Catholicisme, le Liberalisme, et le Socialisme, par M. Donoso Cortes, Marquis de Valdegamas, p. 99-105.]

M. Donoso Cortes will be convinced, I hope, that such is not my idea; and that, far from resting satisfied with visible and natural things, I believe in supernatural order, and in its necessity to explain and govern the world. Philosophers, I think, will on their side acknowledge that if I reject their doctrine, I do not abandon their right. I do not say this with the view of seeking the frivolous honour of maintaining at the same time two great causes, but to affirm a double truth to which I yield my entire conviction and devotion, Christian faith and religious freedom. The welfare of all nations demands these as its price.

Guizot.
Val Richer, September, 1851.