We may rest assured that the control over antagonisms and passions, so as to preclude doubt or suspicion from creeping into the mind, must always proceed from an elevated standing, and that men possessing the necessary qualifications, or even some of them in a high degree, are extremely rare. {128} This consideration has been sadly overlooked. Very soon we shall have every one attempting to philosophize Christianity. There are scarcely any, down to the youngest priest, who does not take up the most difficult dogmas, and who does not seek to do battle with those who are styled "unbelievers"--that is the current word nowadays, because, as it would seem, the old term (infidel) has been worn out by long usage, and, therefore, it has been thought necessary to create a new one. All this is very deplorable. Until quite lately there was hardly a discourse, addressed even to the people exclusively, which did not contain passages intended for unbelievers, or tirades against unbelievers, or apostrophes to unbelievers. The believers who were present were neglected for the sake of the unbelievers who were absent. It is not rare, indeed, to meet with men who call themselves unbelievers, who assert it, and who write themselves such; but will you find men who are seriously unbelievers, and who do not falter in their negations? A pious priest, who was frequently called upon to attend the sick in the higher classes of society in Paris, was once asked whether he often met with men who had ceased to believe. He replied, good-naturedly:--"Pray, don't allude to the subject. Though I have been long accustomed to minister to great sinners, I have never yet had the good fortune to lay my hand on one who was even a little unbelieving. As regards the faith, men in general are better than their words or their writing either." {129} As has been well remarked:--"The man who, even in all sincerity, says: 'I don't believe,' often deceives himself. There is in the depths of his heart a root of faith which never dies." Real unbelief cannot prevail in France. There is too much good sense, too much rectitude in the French mind, and too much moral beauty in the Gospel, to render absolute unbelief possible. These pretensions to unbelief are generally based on a little ignorance combined with a large amount of feeble-mindedness; so that when one tells you that he does not, that he cannot believe, you should understand him to mean that he is weak and timid. Let us be on our guard against taking such men at their word, for we should thereby show how little knowledge we possess of the human heart. A priest who was called in to attend a person who had spoken and written much against religion, put this question to him:--"When you wrote were you quite sure of your own unbelief?" The other replied, "Alas! Monsieur l'Abbé," ... in a deprecating tone, which seemed clearly to imply:--"How young you are, and how little you know of the human heart!"