ry, and to lay down a principle, and to carry out a system of ethics,
and undertakes the moral education of the man, then it does but abet evils
to which at first it seemed instinctively opposed. True Religion is slow
in growth, and, when once planted, is difficult of dislodgement; but its
intellectual counterfeit has no root in itself: it springs up suddenly, it
suddenly withers. It appeals to what is in nature, and it falls under the
dominion of the old Adam. Then, like dethroned princes, it keeps up a
state and majesty, when it has lost the real power. Deformity is its
abhorrence; accordingly, since it cannot dissuade men from vice, therefore
in order to escape the sight of its deformity, it embellishes it. It
"skins and films the ulcerous place," which it cannot probe or heal,

"Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen."

And from this shallowness of philosophical Religion it comes to pass that
its disciples seem able to fulfil certain precepts of Christianity more
readily and exactly than Christians themselves. St. Paul, as I have said,
gives us a pattern of evangelical perfection; he draws the Christian
character in its most graceful form, and its most beautiful hues. He
discourses of that charity which is patient and meek, humble and
single-minded, disinterested, contented, and persevering. He tells us to
prefer each the other before himself, to give way to each other, to
abstain from rude words and evil speech, to avoid self-conceit, to be calm
and grave, to be cheerful and happy, to observe peace with all men, truth
and justice, courtesy and gentleness, all that is modest, amiable,
virtuous, and of good repute. Such is St. Paul's exemplar of the Christian
in his external relations; and, I repeat, the school of the world seems to
send out living copies of this typical excellence with greater success
than the Church. At this day the "gentleman" is the creation, not of
Christianity, but of civilization. But the reason is obvious. The world is
content with setting right the surface of things; the Church aims at
regenerating the very depths of the heart. She ever begins with the
beginning; and, as regards the multitude of her children, is never able to
get beyond the beginning, but is continually employed in laying the
foundation. She is engaged with what is essential, as previous and as
introductory to the ornamental and the attractive. She is curing men and
keeping them clear of mortal sin; she is