During the last sixteen years—with the exception of the monumental building upon the hill of Montmartre, I never saw any important new church in building, or heard of one being erected.

And what is the reason of this state of things, from which we as a Church may gather some lessons? They are many. Rome in France, as in other countries, is rather a political than a religious system. She was involved more than was generally known in the Dreyfus affair. The banished Orders were sowing the seeds of disloyalty to the Republic. S. Cyr (the military school) was largely under the influence of the Jesuits, who are not Republicans, and the struggle had to come. “France is democratic and progressive. In spite of eminent exceptions, the Roman Catholic body has offered a sullen and stubborn opposition to economic and social reform. It reaps what it has sown.” And this is an object-lesson to ourselves. Now the attitude of the nation towards Roman Catholicism is one of distrust and aversion. A Church—a clergy—these, though he may not personally use them—the average Frenchman will have. But what he will not have at any price is a Government influenced by priests—a Roman Catholic “party”—or the intervention of Rome, secret or avowed, in French politics. The fact is that Rome has asked the people to believe too much, and they have ended by believing very little. It is a sad spectacle. But what has the Church offered to combat the growing materialism of the country? Only the poor substitute of superstition, such as is manifested at Lourdes and other places. This and the Dreyfus affair, and the scandal connected with the name of Leo Taxil, have done much in late years to alienate thinking Frenchmen from religion.

Again, the selling of the offices and sacraments has in Paris at least been practised to an extraordinary extent. Before the separation, I have known of as much as £1,000 being paid for the services at a “rich” funeral. £80 to £100 was a common fee for marriages and funerals, and large offerings were expected at baptisms. Since the passing of the Bill the Archbishop of Paris has ordered that marriages and funerals should only be taken in a low “class,” where the fees are comparatively moderate. But I am credibly informed that it is expected that an “offering” will be given to the officiating priest equal to what was formerly charged. This relates, of course, only to the wealthier class, from whom the complaints have been deep if not loud.

And what is the outcome of all this? Here you have a dissatisfied priesthood, especially as to the younger men; it is calculated that some two hundred secede from the priesthood every year; a people who have thrown over their Church and practically banished religion from their schools. You have teachers who have a better chance of employment and promotion if they are free-thinkers. Consequently juvenile crime is increasing, and immorality more or less rampant. Here are two facts. According to the official journal, during the year 1905, 3,805 boys of sixteen years of age passed through the police courts, and 566 girls of the same age; and in the same year there were 468 cases of suicide of men and women under twenty-one years of age. Again, in Paris alone the illegitimate births are over 12,000 a year, while in London, with its much greater population, the number for 1906 was 4,868.

What is the remedy? Certainly a revival of religion will not come through politics—but will it come from the Church herself?

There is a Liberal school of Roman Catholic Theology in France from which some hope much. M. Paul Sabatier (who has written so much and so well upon this subject) has great hopes that the Church in France will be saved by this party. But it is a party which has no favour from Rome, and time alone will show whether anything can be accomplished by it. Some, indeed, there are who think that the somewhat mysterious action of the Pope in the late controversy with the Government arose from the existence and strength of this “Liberal” party, and the latest Papal pronouncement seems to favour this view. This school—historical, liturgical, and critical—has broken down the intellectual conceptions on which Romish doctrine rests; and if its views are accepted by Roman Catholics generally, then the Vatican sees clearly that it cannot sway the minds of the people and bring them to obey implicitly.

It would appear that the Curia sees that the doctrines of Liberalism, once adopted, will overthrow Romanism, and in its desire to save the Church allows the French Catholics to be persecuted, knowing that persecution will confirm Conservatism, and drive the really attached Ultramontanes closer to the Roman authority. The Pope’s action is, in fact, the inevitable result of Ultramontanism, for nowadays no Romanist can be anything but an Ultramontane if he is loyal to the Papacy. Thus the action of the Pope may not be a diplomatic mistake so much as the outcome of a steady policy to maintain unity on the basis of the Vatican decrees and the syllabus.

The lessons for the Church of England are obvious. It may be that France is in the van of a larger movement for good or for evil. Spain, Italy, Germany, are in the throes of the same struggle. Anti-clericalism is not unknown among ourselves. Surely we may learn the danger of a too close alliance with any political party. The Church, as her Divine Founder, should be non-political. And should not every nerve be strained to keep our people in close attachment to the Church, by active sympathy with the masses, putting before them a manly Christianity and avoiding mediævalism and superstition? And must we not fight for schools, that definite religious instruction be given to our children, which will equip them as none other can for the responsibilities of national life, and for the life to come? If we learn these lessons while the day lasteth, “quis separabit.”