THE ABBÉ DE LAMENNAIS.

THE French Revolution has also produced writers who have beheld Liberty in Religion; but here our superiority is manifest. It is in the fields of the cross that the Abbé de Lamennais has acquired so tender an interest for human nature, for the poor and suffering industrious classes of society; it was in wandering with Christ upon the highways and beholding the little ones assembled at the feet of the Saviour of the world that he has found again the poetry of the Gospel. Might we not call the following picture a detached parable from the sermon on the Mount ?

"It was a wintry night; the wind blew, the snow whitened the roofs;

Beneath one of these roofs in a small room were seated at work a woman with silvery hair, and a young girl:

"And from time to time, the old woman

warmed her wan hands at a little stove. A clay lamp lighted this poor abode, and one of the rays thereof died away on an image of the Virgin, hung against the wall.

"And the young maid, raising her eyes, looked for a while in silence on the woman with silvery hair; then she said: Mother, you have not been always thus destitute.

"And there was inexpressible sweetness and tenderness in her voice.

"And the woman with silver hair replied: My child, God is our master; whatsoever he doth is right.

Having said these words, she was silent for a short time, and then continued:

"When I lost your father it was a grief which I thought without solace; true you were left to me, yet then I could think only of one thing.

"Since then I have thought that, had he lived to see us in this distress, his heart would have broken; and I am satisfied that God has dealt kindly with him.

"The maiden answered no, but bent her head, and a few tears, which she strove to hide, fell on the linen she held in her hands.

"The mother added: God has been merciful unto him, and unto us also. What have we wanted while others want all things?

"It is true we must accustom ourselves to live on little, and that little earned by our labour; but doth not that little suffice? and were not all mankind from the beginning doomed to live by toil?

"God in his bounty has given us each day our daily bread; and how many have it not! He hath given us a shelter; and how many know not where to lay their heads!

My child, he hath given me thee; of what then should I complain?

"At these words the maid's heart was much moved; she threw herself at the knees of her mother, took her hands, kissed them, and leant weeping on her parent's breast,

"And the mother, striving to raise her voice, said: My child, happiness is not in possessing much, but in loving and hoping much.

"Our hope is not here below nor our love either, or if they be it is but for a time.

"Next to God thou art all to me in this world; but this world vanisheth like a dream, and that is why my love raiseth itself with thee unto another world.

"While I carried thee beneath my heart, I prayed one day, with great fervour, to the Virgin Mary; and she appeared to me in my sleep, and methought that, with a heavenly smile, she presented me with a child.

And I took the infant she gave me, and while I held it in my arms the Virgin Mother placed on its head a crown of white roses.

"A few months afterwards thou wert born; and that sweet vision was ever before mine eyes.

"So saying, the woman with silvery hair trembled and pressed her daughter to her heart.

"A little while afterwards a holy man beheld two forms of light ascend towards heaven; a host of angels accompanied them, and the air resounded with songs of joy."

We live (as in the days of Cromwell) in an age of reform; if in his time, more morality and conviction was remarked in the public mind, in ours may be observed more urbanity and gentleness. Puritanical sentiments were very far from that harmony and that peace which the religious philosophy of M. Ballanche introduces into christianity.

KILLING NO MURDER. LOCKE. HOBBES. DENHAM.

HARINGTON. HARVEY. SIEYES. MIRABEAU.

BENJAMIN CONSTANT. CARREL.

THE most celebrated pamphlet of this era was "Killing no Murder." Its author, the republican Colonel Titus, in an ironical dedication, entreated His Highness, Oliver Cromwell, to die for the happiness and deliverance of the English. After this publication the Protector was never seen to smile he felt himself abandoned by the Revolutionary spirit to which he owed his greatness. The Revolution, which chose him as a guide, would not endure him as a master. The mission of Cromwell was fulfilled. His age and nation had no more need of him. Time pauses not to admire glory, but makes it useful and passes on.

I have read (perhaps in Gui Patin) one curious fact, which I believe has not been previously remarked. The doctor observes that " Killing no Murder" was originally written in French, by a gentleman of Burgundy.

Here we have Locke as a poet. He wrote

VOL. I.

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