theory you like to bring along, and to follow it as a theory, as far as it will take us. We know just how far that is; at the portal of death they all fail us, leaving the materialist in baffled contemplation of his atom, which, as we are now told, shows signs of breaking up into stuff which is not ordinary matter. It seems that we don't know so much about the atom as we thought we did. Evolution, too. In Darwin we should have had a master builder if he had but sought and found a solid foundation for his fine temple of thought; if he had but built on the firm rock of truth; but no, it was the old story of a house built on the sand, and already the advancing tide of scientific knowledge is washing it away."

"Never!" said the invalid warmly.

"Yes, indeed," said the priest quietly; "evolution has had its day-scientists have already dropped it with the old verdict of not proven."

Mr. Maitland stared incredulously. "You have not been reading much lately," suggested Father Louis, in answer to the look.

"No, not much, but I was not aware that I had fallen behind the times in my views. You will pardon me if I say that I find some difficulty in taking your sweeping assertions quite seriously."

"I don't think I shall have any difficulty in proving to you that Darwin's theory as far as man is concerned is quite discredited in the advanced realms of science. Zoology, as it widens the field of its researches, becomes more firm in declining to produce man's progenitor in the genus ape; the very dryest bones of palæontology refuse to give even a suggestion of that missing link of the Darwinian chain.

Psychology, too, has a word to say on the subject, which must be listened to nowadays. It is a word of disapproval, and an emphatic one at that. It seems to me that for the last half century scientists have been following a barren quest-they have been questioning matter where they should have looked for mind, the mind in the universe, the divine plan, the Creator working in His own Creation; some of them are already beginning to find this out for themselves."

"I am not in a position to disprove anything you say, Father," said Mr. Maitland, after a pause; you make it very evident to me that I have dropped behind in the race, but you know I am bound to suspect you of taking a one-sided view on such matters."

"When you are stronger I will bring you some of the latest re

ports I have from various centres. You can then form your own views. Like yourself, I have dropped behind. Indeed, I have long ago dropped out of all active pursuit of science. I used to know all that was stirring. I ran about Europe a good deal in my young days, and I met most of the great scientists of my time. I have several very dear friends among them now, and they keep me supplied with the newest literature, which, by the way, I don't very often read," he added, laughing softly.

"But, Father, how could you give it all up and bury yourself in a monastery?"

"Do you think I am buried? I mean to prove to you that I am very much above ground, and very much alive. I am going to see your doctor this very day and find out from him if you are suffering from anything else besides extreme weakness, and give him my own opinion for what it is worth."

"He will tell you I have consumption."

"I don't think he will. I am a doctor myself-I studied medicine in London, in Paris, in Berlin and in Vienna, and I used to think in those days that I knew something of tuberculosis. Anyway, I have come here to help you, and I mean to do so. Will you suffer me so far?"

"Whether or not, I imagine you mean to have your own way," said the invalid, smiling, " and I shall always be glad to see you; for the short time I am to be here, it is not worth while quarreling."

"I shall see you again to-morrow," said Father Louis, as he rose to go; "I mean to save your body and soul, my friend, in spite of all your 'don't believes,' so good-bye for the present."

On his way out he paid a visit to Priscilla in her kitchen and said. a few words to her which brought a grateful happy look into her eyes. The three children were waiting for him just outside the gate. Elsie had told a marvellous story to her brothers on their return of the great, big, huge 'normous man whom God had sent to help them. She was given to piling up her adjectives, and for a little. one she had rather a copious vocabulary of them.

"How do you do?" said Hubert politely, advancing to the stranger with outstretched hand.

"Ah, Hubert and Reggie, I suppose," said Father Louis smiling; "very glad to make your acquaintance."

"Did God get our wireless telegram?" asked Reggie. “We sent it the best way we could, but of course we were not sure it was all right."

"It must have been all right, for God sent me to help you."

66

And have you really come from the other side of the stars, and do they all wear these kind of clothes there?"

"I have not been there lately," said Father Louis, so I cannot say; I am living at Redland Manor just now, so it was not very far to come."

"And does God know you, then?"

"Yes, I am His servant. Now I wonder if you or Hubert can show me where to find a good carpenter in the village, who could mend a barn floor."

"Oh, I know where the carpenter lives," said Hubert, "I will take you there; "he's an awfully clever man-he mended our wheelbarrow."

The village, which was rather less than a quarter of a mile distant, was called Veerse. It was a fishing village, and it owned a tiny fleet of brown-sailed fishing boats. On their way thither Hubert volunteered some information regarding the inhabitants of it.

"The fishermen of Veerse are very funny men," he said. "They are very dark and they have very black eyes; you will always know a Veerse fisherman by that and by his short legs. They are not really English, you know; they used to be Spanish at one time. Some of the ships of the Spanish Armada got wrecked here a long time ago, so the men stayed and settled down in Veerse. A lot of them wear earrings, and father says they are Spaniards now as far as their looks go. I like them, but I don't think Priscilla has a very high opinion of them. She calls them a lot of haythens,' whatever that means, and always quarrels with them about the price of the fish."

"That's very interesting, Hubert," said Father Louis, adding mentally, "if that is true, Catholic traditions cannot quite have died out amongst them. Here will be a starting point for our apostolic work in England."

A few hours later a messenger knocked at the door of Redland Cottage, where he delivered a can of milk and a big basket. The children crowded round to see the basket unpacked, making appreciative remarks in the meanwhile. There were chickens in that basket, and eggs and butter, brandy, too, and old wine, and big purple grapes.

"Now daddy will get better," said Elsie.

"Here be a vriend fur uz,” said Priscilla. "The Lard sent he fur zure."

"God sent him," said Reggie; “we asked Him to."

"Ah, didn't I tell ee zo? Ther's allus a vriend fur ee in the Almighty, an' they be vools, zo they be, as Bible zayeth, as zay in ther' hearts ther' be no God."

It was in such remarks as these that Priscilla was wont to express her indignation and disgust at the atheistical attitude of her sick master. It was in direct disregard of his expressed wishes that she had told the children to ask God to befriend them, and until then she had never known how complete was their ignorance of all religious ideas. He had said to her once, "You must please keep all your religious claptrap to yourself. I don't want my children to know any of the silly superstitions you hear in your churches." "But their zouls," she had protested, "their dear little zouls!" There is no such thing as a soul, my good woman, they haven't got any dear little zouls,' as you call them."

66

"I don't vind them no different from other children as have zouls," she answered dryly; "bless ther little hearts; thee won't vind I a tellin' them up a tale like that."

"You will please say nothing whatever on the subject," was his final word.

(To be continued.)

JESSIE READER.

LOUIS VEUILLOT.

FROM 1855 TO 1869. (1)

THE history of the fourteen years between 1855 and 1869 is almost the whole of the history of the Church at the time of Napoleon the Third. In that period Louis Veuillot appears under many various aspects, though always actuated by a singleness of purpose in all the actions of his life. He was a strictly Catholic writer, capable of any task, but in reality pursuing only one. With the arms of justice he strikes right and left; on the left his natural enemies, those of Jesus Christ and His Church; on the right the adversaries whom it was so trying for him to face, for they were champions of the same cause, which they considered jeopardized by his attitude, overlooking the fact that their method was far more compromising, for, unawares, they were playing into the hands of the enemy. Over and above all this, the Government, at first conservative and Catholic, had by degrees drifted into revolutionary ways, and he had to fight it after having loyally upheld it. His weapon broke in his hand and he was out of the fight for seven years. From January 29, 1860, until February 19, 1867, the Univers was suppressed. Achilles remained in his tent, not sulking, but through compulsion; but while waiting for his sword to be restored to him, which he was to use again with such vigor, his rest was not unfruitful. He called himself an "indoor laborer," but he did good work; it had been easy enough to suppress the editor but quite another matter to condemn to idleness the worker in God's field.

Being obliged to condense, let us outline briefly, from this third volume, first, his attitude towards Napoleon III, then his contest. with his fellow Catholics, after which we will take up the easier task of his labors as a journalist and a man of letters.

I.

He was called a courtier and was popularly supposed to be in the pay of the Second Empire. He was decidedly not, for he never received nor would he ever accept anything, not even the red rib

(1) Louis Veuillot, by Eugene Veuillot t III.