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genuine zeal; even if it were to encounter neither competition nor stimulus from without: but that party is not the only one in which the religious spirit is revived; nor will competition and stimulus be wanting.

The Protestant Church of France is now likewise the scene of a religious movement, which will not be without results, and will keep up the activity and energy of that which has arisen in the bosom of the Roman-Catholic Church, even were that deprived of its original authors.

We cannot speak of the French Protestants without a feeling of the strongest sympathy. After the religious wars of the sixteenth century, at the beginning of the reign of Louis XIII., when they were in full possession of the liberties and the guarantees they had conquered, there is reason to believe that they amounted to nearly three millions out of the entire population of France, which did not then probably exceed fifteen or sixteen millions. From the beginning of the seventeenth century, down to near the end of the eighteenth, they had to endure all possible persecutions and calamities; and they amount, we fear, at this day to no more than about a million and a half. We cannot contemplate the long career of suffering and misery, revealed in this diminution of their numbers, without a profound impression of sadness. At the same time, we are filled with a lively sentiment of admiration and of fraternal joy at the idea of so large a number of Christian families resisting all these trials, this implacable persecution, and holding fast by their faith in the midst of so much. suffering. And not only have the French Protestants maintained their faith, but in this situation of constant suffering and constant danger, so long excluded from all public offices, deprived even of their rights as citizens, persecuted and obstructed in the humblest social careers, they may claim a share-a large and glorious share -in all the progress made by their country in civilization, in light, in industry, in wealth. So much was this the case, that when, in the first place, in 1787, by the equity of Louis XVI., and in the second, in 1789, by the decrees of the National Assembly, they were restored to their rights as men and citizens, they took their natural position in the foremost ranks of the French nation; ready to acquit themselves of all the duties which a free country can impose on its sons, and to earn all the honours it can award them.

Viewing them, as we propose to do, solely in a religious point of view, the French Protestants are now, we will not say divided, but distinguished by two different dispositions or tendencies. All are sincerely attached to their hereditary belief; but some of them, though they firmly adhere to this belief, are not ex

tremely

tremely zealous or anxious about it. It is a legacy they have received, and which they wish to transmit to their children, rather than a treasure which they prize and employ with ardour for their own benefit. Others are inspired by a profound love for the faith as reformed in the sixteenth century; it is become the dominant object of their thoughts, the necessary aliment of their inward life; they labour with passionate zeal to revive and to propagate it around them. The former party insist chiefly on the moral sentiments inspired by religion, and think that it can and ought to adapt itself more and more to the advancement of intelligence and civilization. The latter hold a faith essentially dogmatic and fixed, which they regard not indeed as contrary, but as superior to human reason. In the religious sentiments of the former there is a moderation, tinged with coldness and sterility; in those of the latter a severity somewhat exclusive, but a fervour and sympathy powerful, communicative, and inexhaustible. The former are probably still the most numerous among the French Protestant body; the latter are incontestably the most active, and, in spite of all obstacles, will exercise the greatest influence over its future destiny.

It is impossible not to be struck with a certain analogy between this internal state of Protestantism in France and the internal state of her Romanism, which we have just described. In both churches, among the laity as well as the clergy, there is a general return towards religion. Among the Protestants, as well as the Romanists, this new-born religious spirit is, for the most part, sincere; but it is as cold and routinier as if it were chilled by age. In the midst of this general lukewarmness, a small party has arisen in the one church, liberal in politics and fervent in religion, which boldly plants the standard of RomanCatholicism in the centre of modern institutions. In the other church we perceive a small fraction which, without separating itself from the main body, and constituting itself a dissident sect, assumes to be the sole depository of evangelical orthodoxy, and labours to re-establish the reformed faith in its pristine austerity and ardour. In spite of the profound separation which exists between Romanism and Protestantism, in spite of their differences and their dissensions, a certain fraternal resemblance shows itself in their destinies. In both churches like causes produce like effects; in both, corresponding symptoms reveal the same inward workings.

There is, however, a difference which, though it does not destroy this analogy, is essential. The Liberal Catholic Party is, we doubt not, sincerely and seriously religious, and governed by religious principles. Nevertheless, it has attached itself quite

as

as much to political as to religious questions. The relations of the Church to the State-the liberties of the Church in the State-are unquestionably legitimate and pressing interests regarding religion: but they are not religion; they concern her position in society, not her dominion over souls; the edifice of the Church, not the source of salvation. It is, on the contrary, to questions essentially and spiritually religious that the Evangelical Protestant Party devotes its chief ardour and zeal. It is the state of the Christian faith, rather than the social condition of the Christian church, that engages its prime solicitude. It addresses itself less to public bodies and authorities than to individuals; and seeks to act upon souls much more than upon laws. We hope it will persevere in this course, which is not only the most Christian, but the most effectual. It was by the faith and the hope she inspired, far more than by the institutions she foundedit was by the hold she got on the mind and the heart of man, much more than by the rules she laid down for the relations between ecclesiastics and laymen-that Christianity achieved her first victories :—and it is by these means that she will finally subdue the world to herself. Her divine doctrines and her eternal promises have a thousand times more power than the strongest or the freest constitution of her churches can ever have. In our days especially it is by acting immediately on individuals that religion must regain her empire. The spirit of individual independence, with all its advantages and all its dangers, its virtues and its vices, is evidently the predominant spirit of modern society. Religion ought to restrain its excesses;-but, before she can do so, she must have compensations wherewith to attract and to reward those who submit themselves to her control. Men are possessed and whirled about by a restless insatiable desire of movement, of change, of activity, serious or frivolous. The evil will not be arrested or cured by external barriers, by political forces, by such or such organizations of the various powers and functions of government. You must dive down into the soul; you must act upon the reason and the conscience; you must determine the free convictions and wills of men; you must open before their restless and seeking eye a long, an interminable vista— to their moral activity, a boundless region in which it may find space for the exercise of all its energies, instead of venting itself in disorder and destruction. You can only appease these perturbed spirits by giving them occupation; you can only tame them by culture and wholesome nutriment. This can only be done by Christianity, which appeals confidently to the free will of man, and while she teaches him her law, leaves untouched his freedom of action. The zealous Protestants, who endeavour

VOL. LXXXIII. NO, CLXV.

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to propagate their belief by such means as these, understand their times and their work. The means they use for the salvation of souls are the only means really effectual for the preservation of society.

It is not for us to offer our advice to the Liberal Catholic Party, which imagines it can re-establish Catholicism in peace, honour, and credit, in the midst of modern liberty, and devotes itself with courageous sincerity to that great task. We shall only venture to observe to the distinguished men of whom it is composed, that in order to apply a cure to the moral and social maladies which fill the world with trouble and alarm, they must strive much more for the restoration of religion, than for that of their church: hitherto, from what we know of their labours, they have been far more solicitous about the church than about religion.

We have now pointed out what appear to us to be the principal and characteristic features of the religious state of France. We watch that state with profound anxiety-for, in our opinion, upon that depends the future destiny of France. That splendid vessel will not cease to be tossed by the direst tempests, until she has recovered the anchor of religion and moored herself firmly to the only ground beyond the reach of the storms of human passion. If we may judge by the symptoms which show themselves by the progress already made-imperfect as that progress may be there is still much ground for hope. But who knows France? Who can discover what lies hidden under symptoms the clearest in appearance, or what will be the end of the most promising beginnings? France is a country which defies calculation, and defeats foresight. From 1814 to 1848-during a period of thirty-four years-in spite of two very serious crises-the Hundred Days of 1815, and the Revolution of July in 1830the aspect of things in France had been such, on the whole, as to inspire the best hopes of her destiny under a constitutional system. Within, the growth of prosperity and well-being had been rapid and uninterrupted: without, the recollections of the days of anarchy and war were fading away. In the midst of peace and security, France appeared to be gradually resuming her great place and her regular influence in the order of Europe. Everything seemed to show and to guarantee her repose, her progress, her future welfare. Vain illusions-baseless shows! In a day, in a few hours, the whole goodly structure is overthrown—and from beneath its apparent strength and beauty all the madnesses of men, all the darkness and all the terrors of anarchy have started to sight. Who knows whether the religious state of France is sounder than the political? Who will dare to say that the favourable symptoms, the seeming returns towards religion, which we

have pointed out, do not cover some fatal work which will suddenly lay open once more the way to the abyss? It is evident that we have before us a society infected with one of those secret and inscrutable diseases which shake the strongest organization, and render every appearance of health doubtful and insecure.

We earnestly hope that in the fearful struggle of which France is now the theatre the right may prevail; and that the defenders of the good cause, in religion and politics, may obtain a final victory. For the sake of all Europe, as well as for that of France herself, we would fain anticipate this with more confidence than we confess ourselves able to feel.

ART. IX.-1. Il Contemporaneo di Roma.

2. L'Alba di Firenze.

3. Il 22 Marzo dell' Independenza Italiana di Milano. 4. Il Risorgimento di Turino.

THE liberty of the press is so intimately associated with

the notion of free institutions, and is indeed so essential to their existence, that we cannot be surprised at the delight with which the emancipation of the Italian press was hailed in the country itself, nor at the sympathy with which it was greeted by those already possessing the advantage. To secure so great a good, some evil we are willing to endure. It seemed natural that a country so long accustomed to a rigorous censorship should, at first, exhibit more zeal than discretion in the exercise of the coveted privilege; we doubted not that a quick supply of the particular talent required for the conduct of a journal would follow the demand, and that the tone of decency and moderation, essential to the respectability of the daily press, would succeed to the style of exaggeration and vehemence which marked its first efforts. It is with great regret we are compelled to observe that no such wholesome change has as yet taken place: truth, on the contrary, exacts the admission that the mischief has increased as well as the evil consequences which we anticipated from it. When the freedom of the press degenerates into licence, it becomes the most dangerous enemy of the people and of liberty itself. The censorship, as established by Buonaparte (the most rigorous, we believe, of which there is any example), with the countenance it gave to political frauds, was less demoralising in its effects than the abuses of freedom now existing in the same countries. In comparing the journals, some of whose titles we have put at the head of this article, we discover a race of vitu

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