few and rare exceptions," he continues, "the whole of
Christendom, from the days of the Apostles down to our own, has
come to the firm conclusion that it was the object of Christ to
lay down great eternal principles, but not to disturb the bases
and revolutionize the institutions of all human society, which
themselves rest on divine sanctions as well as on inevitable
conditions. Were it my object to prove how untenable is the
doctrine of communism, based by Count Tolstoy upon the divine
paradoxes [sic], which can be interpreted only on historical
principles in accordance with the whole method of the teaching
of Jesus, it would require an ampler canvas than I have here at
my disposal."

What a pity he has not an "ampler canvas at his disposal"! And
what a strange thing it is that for all these last fifteen
centuries no one has had a "canvas ample enough" to prove that
Christ, whom we profess to believe in, says something utterly
unlike what he does say! Still, they could prove it if they
wanted to. But it is not worth while to prove what everyone
knows; it is enough to say "SECURUS JUDICAT ORBIS TERRARUM."

And of this kind, without exception, are all the criticisms
of educated believers, who must, as such, understand the
danger of their position. The sole escape from it for them
lies in their hope that they may be able, by using the
authority of the Church, of antiquity, and of their sacred
office, to overawe the reader and draw him away from the
idea of reading the Gospel for himself and thinking out the
question in his own mind for himself. And in this they are
successful; for, indeed, how could the notion occur to any