Ergo, the English Church, the particular “Faith” which our King undertakes to DEFEND, is “unjust, immoral and untrue.”

And, “Could Englishmen see themselves as others see them, they would be more chary than they are of provoking hatred by such wanton contempt for the feelings of other nations.”

Well, Englishmen have every chance of seeing themselves as others see them, when they have to chronicle a “Christian” Cardinal’s indictment accusing them of “wanton contempt for the feelings of other nations.” To whom do other nations turn in want or distress but England? From whom do the famine and fever-stricken in all corners of the world obtain relief? England! Where is there any Roman Catholic country that has poured out such limitless charity and pity to all in sorrow as England? And why should the “conversion of England” be so valuable to the Roman Church? Merely because of England’s incalculable wealth and power!

Again, concerning the Declaration Oath, the Cardinal continued:—“Now, should it ever happen that the King became convinced, by God’s grace, of the truth of the doctrines that he abjured, of what value would be the Declaration? Absolutely none!”

Of course not!—he would simply cease to be King, and would enjoy the complete liberty of the subject.

“By all means,” went on his Eminence, warming with his theme, “let the majority, if it please, stand by the law, which exists apart from the Declaration, declaring that to reign over England the Sovereign must be a Protestant. Retain this law and enforce it; but respect our creed, at least just so far as to ignore it, and to leave us alone. This, surely, is not a heavy demand to make upon the spirit of modern toleration.”

Then why did not the Cardinal and all his followers “respect the creed” established in this country,—the religion of the State,—“just so far as to ignore it,” and to leave those who honour it “alone”? “This, surely, is not a heavy demand to make upon the spirit of modern toleration.” It was not the Church of England which started any discussion on the Coronation Oath at the time of King Edward the Seventh’s crowning,—the quarrel emanated entirely from the Roman Catholic side. And the Cardinal’s speech was intended to be more aggressive than pacifying.

“But if,” he continued, “after all, there must be a Declaration as a sop to certain fears and passions, let there be one to the effect that the King is a Protestant—and stop there. Should, however, a denunciation of the Catholic religion be added to a profession of Protestantism, the whole world will understand it; it will understand it as a pitiable confession of English fear and weakness. And as to ourselves; well, we shall take it as a complimentary acknowledgment by our Protestant fellow-countrymen of the importance and power of faith—that it can not only remove mountains, but is capable of moving even the fabric of the British Empire itself. But I should like to conclude in another strain, and add to these observations a resolution to this effect:—

“That the Sovereign of this Empire ought to be raised high above the strife of all political and religious controversies, the more easily to draw to himself and to retain the unabated loyalty of all creeds and races within his Empire.”

With the latter part of the Cardinal’s harangue every one of every creed and class will agree, but “a pitiable confession of English fear and weakness” is a phrase that should never have been uttered by an Englishman, whether “broad” or narrow, cardinal or layman. “English fear and weakness” has never yet been known in the world’s history. And as for “moving the fabric of the British Empire,” that can only be done through the possible incompetence or demoralization of its own statesmen,—by shiftiness, treachery and corruption in State affairs—and even at this utmost worst, though England might be bent, she would never be broken.