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tifical State is abandoned to buffaloes final settlement of the boundary line and wild boars. It cannot be doubted between Protestantism and Catholicthat, since the sixteenth century, the ism, began to appear the signs of the Protestant nations have made decidedly fourth great peril of the Church of greater progress than their neighbours. Rome. The storm which was now The progress made by those nations in rising against her was of a very difwhich Protestantism, though not finally ferent kind from those which had presuccessful, yet maintained a long strug-ceded it. Those who had formerly

gle, and left permanent traces, has generally been considerable. But when we come to the Catholic Land, to the part of Europe in which the first spark of reformation was trodden out as soon as it appeared, and from which proceeded the impulse which drove Protestantism back, we find, at best, a very slow progress, and on the whole a retrogression. Compare Denmark and Portugal. When Luther began to preach, the superiority of the Portuguese was unquestionable. At present, the superiority of the Danes is no less so. Compare Edinburgh and Florence. Edinburgh has owed less to climate, to soil, and to the fostering care of rulers than any capital, Protestant or Catholic. In all these respects, Florence has been singularly happy. Yet whoever knows what Florence and Edinburgh were in the generation preceding the Reformation, and what they are now, will acknowledge that some great cause has, during the last three centuries, operated to raise one part of the European family, and to depress the other. Compare the history of England and that of Spain during the last century. In arms, arts, sciences, letters, commerce, agriculture, the contrast is most striking. The distinction is not confined to this side of the Atlantic. The colonies planted by England in America have immeasurably outgrown in power those planted by Spain. Yet we have no reason to believe that, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, the Castilian was in any respect inferior to the Englishman. Our firm belief is, that the North owes its great civilization and prosperity chiefly to the moral effect of the Protestant Reformation, and that the decay of the southern countries of Europe is to be mainly ascribed to the great Catholic revival.

attacked her had questioned only a
part of her doctrines.
A school was
now growing up which rejected the
whole. The Albigenses, the Lollards,
the Lutherans, the Calvinists, had a
positive religious system, and were
strongly attached to it. The creed of
the new sectaries was altogether nega-
tive. They took one of their premises
from the Protestants, and one from the
Catholics. From the latter they bor-
rowed the principle, that Catholicism
was the only pure and genuine Chris-
tianity. With the former, they held
that some parts of the Catholic system
were contrary to reason. The conclu-
sion was obvious. Two propositions,
each of which separately is compatible
with the most exalted piety, formed,
when held in conjunction, the ground-
work of a system of irreligion.
doctrine of Bossuet, that transubstan-
tiation is affirmed in the Gospel, and
the doctrine of Tillotson, that transub-
stantiation is an absurdity, when put
together, produced by logical necessity
the inferences of Voltaire.

The

Had the sect which was rising at Paris been a sect of mere scoffers, it is very improbable that it would have left deep traces of its existence in the institutions and manners of Europe. Mere negation, mere Epicurean infidelity, as Lord Bacon most justly observes, has never disturbed the peace of the world. It furnishes no motive for action. It inspires no enthusiasm. It has no missionaries, no crusaders, no martyrs. If the Patriarch of the Holy Philosophical Church had contented himself with making jokes about Saul's asses and David's wives, and with criticizing the poetry of Ezekiel in the same narrow spirit in which he criticized that of Shakspeare, Rome would have had little to fear. But it is due to him and to his compeers to About a hundred years after the say that the real secret of their strength L

VOL. II.

In

lay in the truth which was mingled at the sacraments, but ready to enwith their errors, and in the generous counter principalities and powers in enthusiasm which was hidden under the cause of justice, mercy, and toletheir flippancy. They were men who, ration. with all their faults, moral and intel- Irreligion, accidentally associated lectual, sincerely and earnestly desired with philanthropy, triumphed for a the improvement of the condition of time over religion accidentally assothe human race, whose blood boiled at ciated with political and social abuses. the sight of cruelty and injustice, who Every thing gave way to the zeal and made manful war, with every faculty activity of the new reformers. which they possessed, on what they France, every man distinguished in letconsidered as abuses, and who on ters was found in their ranks. Every many signal occasions placed them-year gave birth to works in which the selves gallantly between the powerful fundamental principles of the Church and the oppressed. While they as-were attacked with argument, invecsailed Christianity with a rancour and tive, and ridicule. The Church made an unfairness disgraceful to men who no defence, except by acts of power. called themselves philosophers, they Censures were pronounced: books were yet had, in far greater measure than seized: insults were offered to the retheir opponents, that charity towards mains of infidel writers; but no Bosmen of all classes and races which suet, no Pascal, came forth to encounter Christianity enjoins. Religious per- Voltaire. There appeared not a single secution, judicial torture, arbitrary im- defence of the Catholic doctrine which prisonment, the unnecessary multipli- produced any considerable effect, or cation of capital punishments, the which is now even remembered. A delay and chicanery of tribunals, the bloody and unsparing persecution, like exactions of farmers of the revenue, that which put down the Albigenses, slavery, the slave trade, were the con- might have put down the philosophers. stant subjects of their lively satire and But the time for De Montforts and eloquent disquisitions. When an in- Dominics had gone by. The punishnocent man was broken on the wheel ments which the priests were still able at Toulouse, when a youth, guilty only to inflict were sufficient to irritate, but of an indiscretion, was beheaded at not sufficient to destroy. The war was Abbeville, when a brave officer, borne between power on one side, and wit on down by public injustice, was dragged, the other; and the power was under with a gag in his mouth, to die on the far more restraint than the wit. OrPlace de Grêve, a voice instantly went thodoxy soon became a synonyme for forth from the banks of Lake Leman, ignorance and stupidity. It was as which made itself heard from Moscow necessary to the character of an accomto Cadiz, and which sentenced the plished man that he should despise the unjust judges to the contempt and de- religion of his country, as that he testation of all Europe. The really should know his letters. The new efficient weapons with which the phi- doctrines spread rapidly through Chrislosophers assailed the evangelical faith tendom. Paris was the capital of the were borrowed from the evangelical whole continent. French was every morality. The ethical and dogmatical where the language of polite circles. parts of the Gospel were unhappily The literary glory of Italy and Spain turned against each other. On one side had departed. That of Germany had was a Church boasting of the purity not dawned. That of England shone, of a doctrine derived from the Apos- as yet, for the English alone. The tles, but disgraced by the massacre of teachers of France were the teachers of St. Bartholomew, by the murder of the Europe. The Parisian opinions spread best of kings, by the war of Cevennes, fast among the educated classes beyond by the destruction of Port-Royal. On the Alps: nor could the vigilance of the other side was a sect laughing at the Inquisition prevent the contraband the Scriptures, shooting out the tongue importation of the new heresy into

Castile and Portugal. Governments, | butchered by scores without a trial, even arbitrary governments, saw with drowned, shot, hung on lamp-posts. pleasure the progress of this philoso- Thousands fled from their country to phy. Numerous reforms, generally take sanctuary under the shade of laudable, sometimes hurried on with- hostile altars. The churches were out sufficient regard to time, to place, closed; the bells were silent; the shrines and to public feeling, showed the ex- were plundered; the silver crucifixes tent of its influence. The rulers of were melted down. Buffoons, dressed Prussia, of Russia, of Austria, and of in copes and surplices, came dancing many smaller states, were supposed to the carmagnole even to the bar of the be among the initiated. Convention. The bust of Marat was substituted for the statues of the martyrs of Christianity. A prostitute,

The Church of Rome was still, in outward show, as stately and splendid as ever; but her foundation was under-seated on a chair of state in the chancel mined. No state had quitted her communion or confiscated her revenues; but the reverence of the people was every where departing from her.

The first great warning stroke was the fall of that society which, in the conflict with Protestantism, had saved the Catholic Church from destruction. The order of Jesus had never recovered from the injury received in the struggle with Port-Royal. It was now still more rudely assailed by the philosophers. Its spirit was broken; its reputation was tainted. Insulted by all the men of genius in Europe, condemned by the civil magistrate, feebly defended by the chiefs of the hierarchy, it fell and great was the fall of it.

The movement went on with increasing speed. The first generation of the new sect passed away. The doctrines of Voltaire were inherited and exaggerated by successors, who bore to him the same relation which the Anabaptists bore to Luther, or the Fifth-Monarchy men to Pym. At length the Revolution came. Down went the old Church of France, with all its pomp and wealth. Some of its priests purchased a maintenance by separating themselves from Rome, and by becoming the authors of a fresh schism. Some, rejoicing in the new license, flung away their sacred vestments, proclaimed that their whole life had been an imposture, insulted and persecuted the religion of which they had been ministers, and distinguished themselves, even in the Jacobin Club and the Commune of Paris, by the excess of their impudence and ferocity. Others, more faithful to their principles, were

of Nôtre Dame, received the adoration of thousands, who exclaimed that at length, for the first time, those ancient Gothic arches had resounded with the accents of truth. The new unbelief was as intolerant as the old superstition. To show reverence for religion was to incur the suspicion of disaffection. It was not without imminent danger that the priest baptized the infant, joined the hands of lovers, or listened to the confession of the dying. The absurd worship of the Goddess of Reason was, indeed, of short duration; but the deism of Robespierre and Lepaux was not less hostile to the Catholic faith than the atheism of Clootz and Chaumette.

Nor were the calamities of the Church confined to France. The revolutionary spirit, attacked by all Europe, beat all Europe back, became conqueror in its turn, and, not satisfied with the Belgian cities and the rich domains of the spiritual electors, went raging over the Rhine and through the passes of the Alps. Throughout the whole of the great war against Protestantism, Italy and Spain had been the base of the Catholic operations. Spain was now the obsequious vassal of the infidels._ Italy was subjugated by them. To her ancient principalities succeeded the Cisalpine republic, and the Ligurian republic, and the Parthenopean republic. The shrine of Loretto was stripped of the treasures piled up by the devotion of six hundred years. The convents of Rome were pillaged. The tricoloured flag floated on the top of the Castle of St. Angelo. The successor of St.

Peter was carried away captive by the unbelievers. He died a prisoner in their hands; and even the honours of sepulture were long withheld from his remains.

society, had, through great part of Catholic Europe, undergone a complete change. But the unchangeable Church was still there.

Some future historian, as able and temperate as Professor Ranke, will, we hope, trace the progress of the Catholic revival of the nineteenth century. We feel that we are drawing too near our own time, and that, if we go on, we shall be in danger of saying much which may be supposed to indicate, and which will certainly excite, angry feelings. We will, therefore, make only one more observation, which, in our opinion, is deserving of serious attention.

It is not strange that, in the year 1799, even sagacious observers should have thought that, at length, the hour of the Church of Rome was come. An infidel power ascendant, the Pope dying in captivity, the most illustrious prelates of France living in a foreign country on Protestant alms, the noblest edifices which the munificence of former ages had consecrated to the worship of God turned into temples of Victory, or into banqueting-houses for political societies, or into Theophilan- During the eighteenth century, the thropic chapels, such signs might well influence of the Church of Rome was be supposed to indicate the approach-constantly on the decline. Unbelief ing end of that long domination.

But the end was not yet. Again doomed to death, the milk-white hind was still fated not to die. Even before the funeral rites had been performed over the ashes of Pius the Sixth, a great reaction had commenced, which, after the lapse of more than forty years, appears to be still in progress. Anarchy had had its day. A new order of things rose out of the confusion, new dynasties, new laws, new titles; and amidst them emerged the ancient religion. The Arabs have a fable that the Great Pyramid was built by antediluvian kings, and alone, of all the works of men, bore the weight of the flood. Such as this was the fate of the Papacy. It had been buried under the great inundation; but its deep foundations had remained unshaken; and, when the waters abated, it appeared alone amidst the ruins of a world which had passed away. The republic of Holland was gone, and the empire of Germany, and the great Council of Venice, and the old Helvetian League, and the House of Bourbon, and the parliaments and aristocracy of France. Europe was full of young creations, a French empire, a kingdom of Italy, a Confederation of the Rhine. Nor had the late events affected only territorial limits and political institutions. The distribution of property, the composition and spirit of

made extensive conquests in all the Catholic countries of Europe, and in some countries obtained a complete ascendency. The Papacy was at length brought so low as to be an object of derision to infidels, and of pity rather than of hatred to Protestants. During the nineteenth century, this fallen Church has been gradually rising from her depressed state and reconquering her old dominion. No person who calmly reflects on what, within the last few years, has passed in Spain, in Italy, in South America, in Ireland, in the Netherlands, in Prussia, even in France, can doubt that the power of this Church over the hearts and minds of men, is now greater far than it was when the Encyclopædia and the Philosophical Dictionary appeared. It is surely remarkable, that neither the moral revolution of the eighteenth century, nor the moral counter-revolution of the nineteenth, should, in any perceptible degree, have added to the domain of Protestantism. During the former period, whatever was lost to Catholicism was lost also to Christianity; during the latter, whatever was regained by Christianity in Catholic countries was regained also by Catholicism. We should naturally have expected that many minds, on the way from superstition to infidelity, or on the way back from infidelity to superstition, would have stopped at an in

COMIC DRAMATISTS OF THE RESTORATION

termediate point. Between the doc-|
trines taught in the schools of the
Jesuits, and those which were main-
tained at the little supper parties of the
Baron Holbach, there is a vast interval,
in which the human mind, it should
seem, might find for itself some resting-
place more satisfactory than either of
the two extremes. And at the time of
the Reformation, millions found such
a resting-place. Whole nations then
renounced Popery without ceasing to
believe in a first cause, in a future
life, or in the Divine mission of Jesus.
In the last century, on the other hand,
when a Catholic renounced his belief
in the real presence, it was a thousand
to one that he renounced his belief in
the Gospel too; and, when the reaction
took place, with belief in the Gospel
came back belief in the real presence.

We by no means venture to deduce from these phænomena any general law; but we think it a most remarkable fact, that no Christian nation, which did not adopt the principles of the Reformation before the end of the sixteenth century, should ever have adopted them. Catholic communities have, since that time, become infidel and become Catholic again; but none

has become Protestant.

Here we close this hasty sketch of one of the most important portions of the history of mankind. Our readers will have great reason to feel obliged to us if we have interested them sufficiently to induce them to peruse Professor Ranke's book. We will only caution them against the French translation, a performance which, in our opinion, is just as discreditable to the moral character of the person from whom it proceeds as a false affidavit or a forged bill of exchange would have been, and advise them to study either the original, or the English version, in which the sense and spirit of the original are admirably preserved.

149

LEIGH HUNT. (JANUARY, 1841.) The Dramatic Works of WYCHERLEY, CONGREVE, VANBRUGH, and FARQUHAR, with Biographical and Critical Notices. By LEIGH HUNT. 8vo. London: 1840. WE have a kindness for Mr. Leigh Hunt. We form our judgment of him, indeed, only from events of universal notoriety, from his own works, and from the works of other writers, who have generally abused him in the most rancorous manner. But, unless we are greatly mistaken, he is a very clever, a very honest, and a very good-natured man. We can clearly discern, together with many merits, many faults both in his writings and in his conduct. But we really think that there is hardly a man living whose merits have been so grudgingly allowed, and whose faults have been so cruelly expiated.

half

In some respects Mr. Leigh Hunt is excellently qualified for the task which he has now undertaken. His style, in spite of its mannerism, nay, partly by reason of its mannerism, is well suited for light, garrulous, desultory ana, critical, half biographical. We do not always agree with his literary judgments; but we find in him what is very rare in our time, the power of justly appreciating and heartily enjoying good things of very different kinds. He can adore Shakspeare and Spenser without denying poetical genius to the author of Alexander's Feast, or fine observation, rich fancy, and exquisite humour to him who imagined Will Honeycomb and Sir Roger de Coverley. He has paid particular attention to the history of the English drama, from the age of Elizabeth down to our own time, and has every right to be heard with respect on that subject.

The plays to which he now acts as introducer are, with few exceptions, such as, in the opinion of many very respectable people, ought not to be reprinted. In this opinion we can by no means concur. We cannot wish that any work or class of works which has exercised a great influence on the human mind, and which illustrates the character of an important epoch in letters, politics, and morals, should dis

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