always must have a body." "History shows no equal to the vitality and efficiency of Roman Catholicism." "Total distrust of ecclesiastical Christianity is pathological." "Those who hate Christianity and would fain have it perish could ask for no more speedy form for its destruction than the destruction of its body." "The staunch Churchman occupies the normal rational standpoint." "Man is by nature a Churchman." "Eeclesiasticism is a genuine interpretation of human nature." "The rational ideal to-day seems to be that of a critical ecclesiasticism, that is, of a visible working church, fully recognizing the results of the modern criticism of its own historical elements, and yet basing itself upon these criticized elements as answering to human nature and needs on their religious side." He says, however, that he is very far from identifying the truth of ecclesiasticism with all truth, or of giving it an undue supremacy. He distinguishes the Church from the Kingdom of God; the latter is the organic sum total of the developments of the human spirit in all phases of activity; the former is a term of less extent, and signifies a definite, visible organization, not identical with moral and spiritual goodness wherever found, though a very real and lively member of that total organization of the true, the good and the beautiful among men which we term the Kingdom of God.

His criticism of Harnack and Sabatier who try to shift the thought-centre of the Gospels from Christ and the Kingdom to a filial emotion felt by believers toward God the Father is a fine piece of work. The only objectivity he discovers in Harnack and Sabatier is the recognition that "in me lives one greater than me." Loisy he finds more objective far than Harnack, although Loisy is as over-insistent on the body of the Church as Harnack is on the soul-both of which when viewed separately are abstractions, mischievous half-truths. Harnack's attempt to extract the pure essence of Christianity is unpardonable in a professed historian; so is his attempt to exhibit the development of dogma as a continuous corruption and pollution of this well of evangelism undefiled. Our author has only a feeling of fine scorn for those who utter the "crab-cry," Back to the simplicity of the Synoptists. He says that an absolute return to the most primitive form of

Christianity is a moral and historical impossibility. He puts his finger on the sore spot in Loisy's theory when he says that the development of the faith and the historical development do not seem to be clearly put in vital relation by the former professor of the Sorbonne. It is a case with him of casual parallelism rather than of organic interaction. The criticism of churchless Christianity goes straight to the mark in these trenchant chapters.

We wish that space permitted an outline of the author's wise reflections on the mechanical theory, the limits and functions of the historical method, and Aristotle's fourfold causality. They may be read with intellectual pleasure and moral profit by all who love to think themselves out of the imprisoning formulas of modern "scientific" philosophy. The notions of "potentiality" and "Actus Purus" are restored and made respectable; the superiority of Aristotle's theory of development is clearly set forth; and modern science and history are asked to drop positivism as a metaphysic while retaining it as a method. These bits of criticism are precious.

We are sorry that the author admits the refutations of the "lapse theory" in general. The theological conception of man's having originally been the recipient of special divine favors, lost subsequently through sin, has nothing whatever to do with the law of progress discovered in history; it is not bound up with the admission of a primitive civilization, and is not ruled out of court by the general abandonment of the theory of degradation. The Catholic theologian, at least, leaves primitive man normal and naturally intact after the Fall, letting science deal with him as to the subsequent course of his history. Here again it would seem that the author has allowed his general historical principle to decide a particular instance, hastily conceived as at variance with it.

The author's method throughout is from the relative to the self-related, absolute Personality. The universal throbs through the particulars. The Church is a kingdom of persons where all are kings because all are persons, and not an abstract external authority. The abstract conception of the authority of the Church as a ground of certitude he regards as the "infinite falsehood of mediæval ecclesiasticism." That's the worst kind

of falsehood we have ever heard of. And yet it seems that the reason why so extensive an adjective is applied in this instance was the bare, empty universal as understood by mediaval churchmen, who sought grounds instead of seeking the ground of certitude.

The Middle Ages, it is true, confined its philosophy largely to the objective and abstract side of reality. The subjective side was not investigated until practically our own days, and the end is not yet. Because, however, the author employs a method which combines the subjective and the objective in what might paradoxically be called a "concrete-general," hardly justifies so severe a condemnation. The social content of the individual, his baptism by immersion into the stream of history, formed little part of scholastic thought. The individual was Barebones then if you will. But in any event, the Schoolmen explored the objective side of authority from the received point of view, and knew next to nothing of the newer avenues of approach to the weather-beaten problems of philosophy which we follow to-day. St. Thomas, however, succeeded in uniting the stream of purpose in history with the stream of finality in Nature, to his credit be it said. We, like him, must reach the objective somehow; and because one conceives the individual to-day as the heir of the ages, or regards the basis of morality as social, is every previous point of view thereby invalidated, an "Ueberwundene Standpunkt"? Let the personal side of belief be investigated, and emphasized, if you will. The institutional side will have its place in the system when thought out, and it will be found that the Church is its own witness within and quite apart from the general stream of history. Are there no special divine springs to feed this stream along its course?

The author states his belief explicitly in the early œcumenical formulas. He suggests as a rule: to believe in all that is implied in the Incarnation. It is the Church, he says, that gives us our authentic record of the life of Christ. The ultimate ground of authority is not in abstract dogma. Christianity is more than thinking or feeling; it is also willing, and the will is the man. The Divine Immanence is the key to history. "The Romanist (sic) conceives of instituted Christianity

as a mechanical, unethical form of authority," instead of recognizing it as an ethical and historical process of the spirit immanent in Christian nations and communities. This saying is hard because not true, and we are surprised to see such an antithesis drawn. Surely we, too, are God's children capable of willing service; capable of personally working out for ourselves and freely accepting the faith of our fathers; capable also of seeing the conservative genius of the Church whose mission is not to lose itself in sudden readjustments to modern culture, or to let even the best-gifted of her sons force her, before ready, into paths that are beset with stumbling.

Catholicity is a life that is much more than dry intellectual assent, much more than an impersonal series of objective ideas strung together like the beads of a rosary and eternally imposed upon the faithful. Catholic thought can move from within outward, upward, and onward, too, and is doing so now pretty vigorously in the new school of Immanentists. Apologetics is always a relative science. Why should our author first make it static and mechanical, and then blow us all up with the dynamite of his progressive method? Is he still haunted by the "bloodless ballet" of abstractions in the old apologetic? Has Catholicity no life, no heart, no personality, in addition to "the heritage of answered questions" which it makes over to those of the household of faith?

This is truly a remarkable volume considering the "psychological climate" in which it was written. It is not sympathetic with Catholicity except in so far as the Roman Catholic idea of the Church fits into the author's view of universal history. It is a trumpet call to Protestantism to seek some form of authority and avoid dissolution, because the future of Christianity is with organized religion. It suggests no via media, but holds out an international "tertium quid" far beyond the point of possible concession for Catholicity, or of accession for Protestantism. The reviewer has already expressed his appreciation, and criticism, and might say much more if space permitted. Let us hope that this volume indicates the beginning of a reaction from that purely subjective type of religion which many find it so convenient to-day to profess, because they discover in it the sanctification of their own conceits and a sort of tangential freedom. EDMUND T. SHANAHAN.

THE TEACHING OF PEDAGOGY IN THE

SEMINARY.

The question of establishing a course of education in the Seminary is at first sight rather simple; but when we examine it more closely we discover a number of factors which demand careful consideration. Central among these is the qualification of the man by whom such a course shall be given. The course itself, unquestionably, is of prime importance; and if we were called on to say what subjects shall be taught, in what order and for what length of time, we should have upon our hands an interesting but also a complex problem.

Now, in the case of the Seminary, as at present organized, much must be left to the discretion of the person in charge of the course. He has to exercise a selective judgment and therefore to bear a certain responsibility in choosing from a vast store of fact, principle and theory. But for this very reason, it is all the more needful that he should have at his command a thorough knowledge of the subject itself and a thorough appreciation of the needs of those to whom that knowledge must be imparted.

The Seminary teacher of Pedagogy, whom I shall hereafter speak of as "the professor," will naturally keep in view the field of work upon which his students are to enter after leaving the Seminary. He will foresee, as they cannot well foresee, the conditions and the problems which they must encounter. And he will so shape his teaching that the young priest coming to the practical work of the parish, is familiar, not only with the college and seminary through which he has passed, but also with the entire field of education in this country.

Our professor, in other words, is thoroughly informed on all matters concerning the parochial schools. He knows how these schools are organized in the different dioceses, who the teachers are, what means of superintendence are employed, how the curriculum is arranged, what text-books are used, what methods are applied. He is not afraid to study the needs of