had escaped his ravages, adopted that which had fortunately been preserved by the monk in his cloister. A religion suited to a barbarian, must be something to strike his senses something upon which his coarse appetite may feed. He undervalues the rewards offered in the Gospel to the humble and faithful Christian, and looks forward to a life of gross sensuality or immortal drunkenness in the world to come. Christianity appeared at a time when the world was prepared for its reception, undermined and at length supplanted wherever the dominion and influence of Rome extended, the ancient and degrading pagan superstitions which before existed. Every where it gained an easy admission, from the universal toleration of every mode of religious worship which prevailed in the heathen world; and soon (though not without cruel persecution) the absurd and degrading mythology of Egypt, Greece and Rome disappeared before it. This victory was achieved, not by force, but by the obvious results of the Christian practice, and the convincing evidence of the doctrine itself. Slight was the hold upon its votaries, and feeble was the support to virtue, of pagan superstition. What respect could be paid to a Godhead, multiplied to an indefinite extent, embracing every thing worthy and unworthy, in earth, sea and heaven? 66 "Quicquid humus, pelagus, cœlum, miserabile gignit, "Jupiter," the king of gods and men, according to Lucian, spent much of his time in painting butterflies' wings and in seeing who offered sacrifice." Morneus has said of them, "as children make babies, their poets made gods." Lactantius has observed, that "those whom they adored in the temples they ridiculed in the theatres:" and, according to Gibbon, "the various modes of religious worship, which prevailed in the Roman world, (before the appearance of Christianity,) were all considered by the people as equally true, by the philosopher as equally false, and by the magistrate as equally useful." This absurd polytheism gave place to Christianity and its wholesome influences. The effects of the Christian religion on the progress of civilization, before and after the revival of learning, are so unequal and dissimilar, that they should be separately con sidered, and we will confine ourselves here, in the few remarks we have left, to its earlier influences. It cannot be denied, that many divisions and heresies crept early into the Christian Church-that sectarians differed from and pursued each other with bitter animosity-that the famous controversy between Athanasius and Arius, in relation to the consubstantiality or likeness of the Father and the Son-the Oμoudios and 'Ouoioios, a difference so subtle, not in name only, but in substance, that "it is almost invisible to the nicest theological eye"-long divided, and almost rent asunder the Church; yet was its influence extensive and beneficial in the highest degree. The historian of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, who was no friend to the religion of Christ, while he denies the commonly received account of the conversion of the Emperor Constantine to the Christian faith, refers his change of religion to views of political advantage," to the esteem which he had for the moral character of the Christians, and to a persuasion that the propagation of the Gospel would inculcate the practice of private and public virtue, and that a prudent magistrate like Constantine, might observe with pleasure the progress of a religion, which diffused among the people a pure, benevolent and universal system of ethics, adapted to every duty and every condition of life."* But the barbarian came, and destroyed in his progress almost every thing that was venerable, useful or sacred throughout Europe. Christianity itself was not saved from his pernicious influence. All thrones were overturned; civilization every where disappeared before the fierce Goth and the fiercer Hun; all learning-every art, was consigned to a long repose, and a night of darkness, without the hope of day, descended over Europe. ART. II.-Euvres de Massillon, Evêque de Clermont.A Paris, chez Lefèvre, Libraire, Rue de l'Eperon, No. 6. 1835. Tom. I. II. It was on the fifth of September, in the year of our Lord, 1638, that the palace of St. Germain-en-Laye resounded with joy at the birth of Louis XIV. This event was as unexpected as it was welcome. For it was scarcely to be supposed that the Queen, after a sterility of twenty-two years, would surprise the liege subjects of Louis XIII. with an heir to the throne. But thus it happened. The French people, in the excess of their delight, hailed the royal infant. as a present from Heaven, and called him, Dieu-donné; while the glory of his reign, acquired for him the additional title of Le Grand.* To this "Gift of God," and his most gifted preacher we beg leave to introduce our readers. After a tempestuous minority, in which Louis himself had been exposed to the pelting of the pitiless storm, he found himself master of a kingdom, still suffering from the shock of civil commotion and foreign war. France, at that period, might have been compared to a noble bark, that lay dismantled and torn, on the heaving bosom of the ocean that had lately been ploughed by the tempest. But her resources were not exhausted. She was yet fertile in talent, honor, valor-in short-in all those elements of political prosperity, which, under the auspices of a genius like Louis, would lead a nation to glory. The young monarch addressed himself at once to the duties of his new and august station; and marked out for himself a career, which has identified his reign with the most illustrious epoch of French history. He possessed none of those elegant mental accomplishments which are the fruits of a judicious education; but his faculties, originally acute, comprehensive and active, were disciplined in the stern school of adversity-a school which has always been the gymnasium of great souls, and the mother of great men. It was here that he received that sort of education, which contributed, so essentially, to the formation of his character, the success of his measures, and the lustre of his reign. Tracing his descent through a long line of So says Bossuet, or rather his continuator; for it is to be regretted that he did not live to finish the work. Histoire Universelle, tom. II. p. 258. glorious ancestry, and emulating the example of Henri IV.* he endeavored to lay the foundation of his prosperity deep in the pride and affection of his people; and, although he missed the path that might have conducted them to happiness, it must be confessed, he led them far up the steep and perilous ascent to glory. He knew that the gratitude of the nation would honor the prince, who should make their country the admiration of the world; and hence, carrying out the principle so finely expressed by Cicero-Honos alit artes, omnesque incenduntur ad studia gloriâ he encouraged literature and the arts by royal patronage, offered his kingdom as the home of learned men, and made genius and virtue, the supports and ornaments of his throne. It is true, indeed, that Louis, in common with the princes of his age, had rather loose notions of virtue; but it must be acknowledged, and this is all that we mean, that he recognized the principle, that the welfare of government depends upon the ability and integrity of public functionaries; and seldom suffered favoritism to interfere in the choice of officers of state. Posts of honor were assigned to such as could best discharge their several duties, and the departments of state were filled by men, who would have added to the splendor of any reign. The same sagacious policy which regulated the measures of his administration, was apparent in the affairs of the church. In consequence of the liberties of the Gallican Church, the Monarch of France possessed more extensive control of ecclesiastical concerns than is usually accorded to the reigning power, in countries over which the Papacy extends.-We are no apologists for that great abomination, the union of Church and State. We must, however, do Louis the justice to say, that, in his hands, it was productive of as few evils as could have been expected. Ecclesiastical dignities were conferred on the most pious, learned, and eloquent divines, and merit in the priesthood, was sure to be the precursor of preferment. The Church was made tributary to his grand scheme of making France the glory of the whole earth. We are not disposed to give him very great credit for his attentions to religion. They proceeded first from State policy, and afterwards from sectarianism. He began his reign an • Hardouin de Terefixe, the preceptor of Louis, states that he made his distinguished grandfather his model. Hist. du Roi Henri Le Grand. Pref. The Academy of Belles Lettres was established in 1663. That of the Sciences in 1666. The Journal des Savans, the parent of modern periodical literature, was first published in 1665. easy voluptuary, and ended it a morose and sanguinary bigot. But, whatever may have been his motives, there can be no doubt, that, in a country in which religion is established by law, his policy was sound. Its effects were immediately conspicuous. The national religion was rendered respectable in the eyes of the court and people, by the patronage of the sovereign. Eloquent preachers occupied the pulpit; and the cathedrals, during the festivals of the church, were thronged with the highest orders of the kingdom. Indeed, under the absolute monarchy of Louis XIV. the church alone, afforded scope for great oratorical powers. Free discussion was not tolerated in political affairs. Amidst universal political subjection, the national church was at liberty. The preacher was the only free man. The pulpit was, as old Herbert has it, "his joy and throne;" and from that elevated position, as ambassador of the King of kings, he dealt out his censures, and fulmined his anathemas against courtly vice, with a boldness which, from any quarter, would have been perfectly astounding. Had the disaffected spirits of the age, canvassed the administration of Louis in the same temper that the clergy criticised the manners of his court, the king would not have held them guiltless. They would scarcely have died in their beds. But while silence was imposed every where else, the pulpit was suffered to speak out. It is not surprising, therefore, that the eloquence of the French pulpit reached its zenith in the age of the Grand Monarque. The maxim is particularly true of public speaking—usus promtos facit. It will, therefore, scarcely be supposed that the pulpit of France, during the dark ages, when it was seldom occupied, was distinguished by very great excellence. The confession of Bellarmine was true, almost universallyAnnis aliquot antequam Lutherana et Calvinistica hæresis oriretur, nulla in Sacris Literis eruditio.* Conscious incapacity induced most of the clergy to abandon the pulpit. The thunders of the Law, and the sweet accents of the Gospal, no longer fell on the ear of listening auditors; and the most efficient instrument of moral renovation was consigned to silence and neglect. Even when sermons became more common, their contents must have been strangely contrasted, in the minds of those hearers who had partaken of the reviving literature of the times, with the instructive moral • Conscio. XXVIII, Neudecker's Dogmengeschichte, p. 3. |