I do not think that the authors of _l'Université Catholique_ render to society all the justice it deserves; but they have no concealed ill-will to it, no design against it. They understand and admit the essential principles upon which it is founded, and they try seriously and sincerely to re-establish between these principles and catholic doctrines, a harmony which shall not be merely superficial and apparent. Their plan is simple. After having traced a general outline of human sciences, together with the ties which unite them either among themselves or to the sublime unity to which they tend, they place therein special courses for each different science of material as of intellectual order, and try in those courses how to make religion penetrate into science, how science into religion, keeping both in sight, so that they may recognise, approach, and unite with each other in their common progress; consequently their body is a dumb university, where all science is taught by writings according to and in a catholic spirit, as they would be _viva voce_ at a real university, where all the professors would be Catholics, truly devoted to their faith and their science. {65} I have no design of entering into the scientific merits of these courses, or of disputing all their assertions and ideas. Some, as the "Course of introduction to the study of Christian Truths," by M. l'Abbe Gerbet; the "Course on Christian Art," by M. Rio; the "Course on the General History of Hebrew Literature," by M. de Cazelès; contain real instruction, elevated and ingenious views, and sometimes rare talent in style, and much attraction for the reader. In a literary review joined to these "Courses" one finds occasional articles, amongst others those by M. le Comte de Montalembert, full of curious research and noble sentiments; written too with a moral earnestness which pleases and touches, even when it goes beyond what is true. It would be easy to collect from the entire work sufficiently numerous traces of superficial science, somewhat vague philosophy, or declamatory literature. I might here and there detect, and this is more important, some traces of old habits, and of that old spirit of hostility from which the authors of the collection have in general tried to keep themselves clear. Possibly, had I the honor of seeing them, I might venture in the freedom of conversation to urge them to weigh carefully in this respect their sentiments and language, to preserve constantly between their ideas and expressions, agreement with the general intentions which animate them and at which they aim. Let them be in this sense strict censors of their own work. As for me, I cannot be one; I cannot seek underhand means as regards the execution of a great and just idea to which I wish success. I admit of incompleteness and imperfection, even incoherency in a human work, provided it be in itself good, and that good predominates in its effects as well as intentions.