poor, foolish Madame Bertrand, to have nurtured this snake in her bosom !"

She had reason for this last sentence in her gossips' eyes, when Madeleine, turning from Madame Bertrand's motherly embrace, raised her clasped hands to the curé, and implored in agony

"Ask her, ma bonne mère, to pardon me, for 'tis against her I have been most guilty and ungrateful; I know all about the robbery of her house!"

"You, Madeleine!" burst involuntarily from Madame Bertrand and the curé at the same moment, whilst a cold shuddering exclamation was breathed by all around.

"I was innocent of all knowledge of it till a week since, she uttered hurriedly, "and then it was confided to me; and in my anguish, scarcely knowing what I did, I bound myself by oath not to reveal it, and I have been wretched ever since. But I could bear the burden no longer; come what may, I have cast it from me!"

"And you have done well, Madeleine," said the curé gravely; "but something more remains to complete the act; you must here, before all, name the robbers, and how you became acquainted with them. You owe this to your own reputation, which I sincerely trust will come clear and pure out of this sad affair."

"Were she lost, quite lost," urged la Comtesse de Guaie, who had drawn near, in a deprecating tone, "she would not have thus accused herself."

"I trust so, I hope so," answered he gravely.

"I am sure of it," cried the generous little Madame Bertrand, taking her shrinking hand; "poor child, she has been led into this cruel position.'

"Make her tell the name of her accomplice," cried Mdlle Lagune in her shrill tone.

"You had better tell all now, dear child," said her foster mother; "tell all, and clear yourself; it will prevent ill-nature and malevolence."

She had recognised the voice of the last speaker. We have not spoken of Louise, who stood beside the stricken girl, endeavouring to comfort and sustain her.

"Yes, Madeleine, you must name the thief, and how you are acquainted with the whole affair," said the Curé. "This sacred edifice should witness your first step towards repentance, at the feet of Him whom you have offended:" he turned sadly towards the altar.

There was a pause. Madeleine looked up, her face was ghastly, she turned towards Louise; the look was so depreca

ting, so peculiar, that this latter borrowed its shade, and became livid with the sudden fear, as yet without form, at her heart. For some moments Madeleine was silent, her eyes raised to the altar, her lips moving; at last turning the former to the Cure's face, she uttered, "The thief was Alexis Vallette!"

A wild shriek burst from Mademoiselle Lagune. ""Tis false! 'tis a base fabrication invented to ruin him from spite!" she exclaimed.

Some one fell heavily to the ground; it was Louise fainting; but Madeleine never saw her, she was too much absorbed in her painful accusation against the man she loved.

"Remember, Madeleine Frémont," said the Curé sternly, "in whose presence you are, and tell all fully and candidly."

No one had noticed Madame Bertrand, whose trembling hands held a letter she had just taken from her pocket. After a few moments' thought, Madeleine, still kneeling, having solemnly promised to speak all the truth, related her midnight interview with Alexis, and his promise to return soon free. "There is no proof; 'tis a falsehood!" again shrieked his

aunt.

"Hush, silence!" exclaimed Père Gallin sternly.

"Alas! alas!" ejaculated Madame Bertrand, "I fear 'tis too true; for here is a letter I only received this morning from Alexis Vallette, written hurriedly, saying he would explain his long silence-a silence which has surprised us all-and begging me to cheer up Madeleine, as he was coming in a few days free, having found a substitute, hoping to remove all obstacle to his marriage with Madeleine.”

We will sum up the conclusion of this scene in as few words as possible. Mademoiselle Lagune called loudly for Louis Debrets, who was known as an intimate friend of her poor maligned Alexis; but he was sought for in vain. After giving Madeleine the flowers, he had disappeared; no one had seen him in or near the church. This confirmed the idea of Alexis's guilt; the other had purposely concealed himself, having, perhaps, though unnoticed, heard Madeleine's accusation. Who shall paint her deep affliction? Called upon in conscience to accuse, perhaps condemn her lover, the unhappy girl was bowed to the earth. Obliged to bring all proof forward against him in cruel evidence, she spoke of the flowers he had left in her room; these she had buried in a corner of the garden, to destroy every indication of his visit, and there they were found, faded and decaying, the bouquet of white tea-roses, of which she was so fond and which Alexis was wont to present her with. On closely examining the

ground, the prints were still perceptible where the ladder had indented it.

Mademoiselle Lagune first threw herself into a violent passion, and then into hysterics, and thus she was carried home. Poor Madeleine was taken charge of by la Comtesse de Guaie, and in her carriage driven home to Madame Bertrand's, more dead than alive. No good, kind heart could blame her; for the self-accusation attested her repentance of any participation in the forced concealment of the crime of another. The Curé accompanied her; all tried to soothe, except Monsieur Bertrand: though an excellent man, yet he was rather narrow-minded; he blamed her, without well knowing why, and did not scruple in shewing it. Poor girl, she heard it; and it confirmed a previously conceived idea, of which more in the next chapter.

Reviews.

M. GUIZOT'S APPEAL TO OUR COMMON CHRISTIANITY. Du Protestantisme et de toutes les Hérésies, dans leur rapport avec le Socialisme: précédé de l'Examen d'un Ecrit de M. Guizot. Par M. Auguste Nicolas.

WE had occasion, when noticing the Abbé Gerbet's able papers upon the connexion between Rationalism and Communism, to point out the equal applicability of his argument to Protestantism, on account of the rationalistic principle upon which it is based. Those who may wish to see this subject fully and ably treated have now the opportunity of consulting the thoughtful and eloquent pages of M. Auguste Nicolas, to whom Catholics already owe a debt of gratitude as the author of the Etudes philosophiques sur le Christianisme. The volume now before us sprang out of a pamphlet written with the view of discussing the principles and propositions contained in a short paper of M. Guizot's, prefixed to his collection of Méditations et Etudes morales, which pamphlet M. Nicolas has now reprinted as an introduction to his own work. The author was led to this fuller development of his subject from reasons which he details with much modesty in his preface, but which need not detain us here; and he takes occasion at the same time to speak of M. Guizot in terms of much respect and tender forbearance; sentiments with which he seems to be very generally regarded by French Catholics,

partly owing to a marked improvement in the tone of feeling evinced in his later productions when touching on religious matters, and partly to the candour with which he makes certain admissions, destructive no doubt of his own line of argument, but creditable to his good faith and sincerity, and giving a hopeful pledge of further progress on the road to truth.

In the paper in question, which M. Nicolas here reproduces previously to analysing its contents, M. Guizot calls upon all Christian communions to unite, on such common ground as they hold, to oppose the flood of Rationalism, Unbelief, Pantheism, and Scepticism, which, with their genuine and logical productions, Socialism and Communism, menace to engulf, not Christianity alone, but society itself. Against this evil, putting aside all dogmatic differences, he would have Protestants and Catholics unite, upon the broad principle of belief in the supernatural order and divine revelation, to combat the common enemy. In the course of a few short pages he exhibits much good feeling and many glimpses of truth, clothed in beautiful language; but we need hardly add, that his argument is in the same proportion weak and inconsistent. It would be incompatible with our limits to analyse his argument ever so slightly. We must content ourselves with a cursory glance.

Our author undertakes to establish three truths: 1st, that "the distinction between those who believe and those who do not believe, between Christians and philosophers, is false and vain, if it be any other distinction than that which subsists between the disciples of authority and the partisans of free inquiry;" 2dly, that "the principle of authority in religious matters admits of no compromise with the principle of liberty,

submission to divine authority must be absolute, or it is nugatory;" and 3dly, as the consequence of these two propositions," that M. Guizot's contemplated alliance between the disciples of authority and the partisans of free inquiry is false in its principle and chimerical in its object."

M. Guizot had started with asserting, that in the supernatural order man's province was to submit. M. Nicolas takes him at his word, and inquires, "What, then, is the point on which we differ?"

"This difference," he continues, "is to be found in the object of this submission and the subject of this authority, that is, in this very submission and authority; for submission without an object, and authority without a subject, are a merely nominal submission and authority. Now what is our object of submission, our subject ot authority? For us Catholics it is the supernatural order taught by the Church, that is, by an authority of the same order, external to us,

visible, living, distinct, independent of us, in order that we may be able to depend on it.

"For M. Guizot and the Protestants it is the supernatural order not taught, and consequently known immediately, conceived immediately, by the human mind.

"This supernatural order therefore exists or does not exist, is after this sort or that, in the exact measure of the knowledge which the human mind can form to itself concerning it. Is it not, therefore, palpable to all, that the submission of the reason in this case has no real object, since its pretended object, the supernatural order, depends, as concerns the knowledge of it, on that same reason which ought to depend upon it? All authority ought to be distinct and independent of the being who owes submission to it, if such authority and submission are to have any reality in them. You will reply, the supernatural order is independent of me. Yes, but not the knowledge of it; without which it is, with respect to you, as if it were not. This knowledge, the work of your reason, depends on the weakness of that reason, and is subject to all its vicissitudes; so far is it from exercising any dominion over it, or regulating it by a superior and distinct teaching, as in the case of the Church's teaching to Catholics.

"And let not the Protestant think to escape from this argument by producing the Bible as the superior and distinct object of his submission. I say of the Bible what I have said of the supernatural order, it is what the knowledge and interpretation of it make it to be now it is you yourself who make out for yourself both the knowledge and interpretation of it; therefore your submission has no real object.

"What is the meaning of believing in the supernatural order, or believing in the Gospel, if we do not know what it is we are to believe therein ? In order that the mind may truly submit, it needs to be held and restrained by a fixed belief, determined by an external and distinct authority; else it falls back on itself, and feeds on its own opinions, which it will ever find it impossible to impose either on others or on itself, because it was, and always must remain, the author of them."

Thus there is no real distinction in principle between Protestants and those unbelieving philosophers against whom M. Guizot would have Catholics and the various Protestant sects to combine.

"The difference," continues M. Nicolas, "between the philosopher and the Christian consists not only in the object, but in the principle of action of the mind. Their difference does not merely consist in the fact that the one admits not, and that the other does admit, a supernatural order; but in that the one has an opinion and the other a belief; an opinion, that is, a view of one's own; a belief, that is, an adhesion to what comes from another. The one walks in ways of his own invention, the other in those which divine teaching has traced out for him."