furnish elementary instruction on the moral system of Confucius, on the moral metaphysical notions involved in Indo-European religions, on the antique Egyptian religion, on the Greek myths, and finally on the religious and moral atmosphere in which Christianity took its rise, and on which it in some sort depended and throve. It would be well even to make scholars in primary schools acquainted with the names of some of the great sages in the history of the world, with their actual or legendary biography, with the moral maxims which are attributed to them. What harm could it do to instruct our children in the aphorisms uttered by Confucius, Zoroaster, Buddha, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, and to let them see something of what humanity really believed before the time of Christ? One cannot destroy the old faith openly and in a minute, but one may do much to undermine and justly to undermine it by showing where and how it borrowed much of all that is best in it—that it is not an exception in the history of human thought nor even, in all respects, unsurpassed in its kind. [84] By M. Maurice Vernes (approved by Littré, and later by M. Paul Bert). [Sidenote: Helplessness of religion in the face of argument.] The Church possesses two means of educating children in its dogmas, and only two; the first is that of patristic or ecclesiastical authority: ‘The fact is thus and such because I say so’; the second is the testimony of miracles. These two, even at the present day, constitute the whole effective contents of the priests’ armoury. The moment they step outside this little circle of ideas they lose their power. And to destroy these two arguments it suffices to show: 1st, that other men have said something different from the teachings of Christianity; 2d, that other gods than Jehovah have also performed miracles; or, in other words, there are no miracles whatever that have been scientifically ascertained. A number of French schools were founded in Kabail, and were prospering, when by degrees they were abandoned. In one of them, which was the last deserted, some exercises of the pupils were discovered: they dealt with a story about Fredegunde. This anecdote illustrates current notions on instruction in classical history: History means facts, and facts often monstrous and immoral; not content with teaching them to young Frenchmen we export them to Kabail; but we do not export our ideas, nor even employ them at home. We should have done better to teach the young Algerians what we know about Mohammed and his religion and about Jesus and the other prophets, the divinity of whose inspiration Mohammed himself admitted. The slightest traces that a really rational education should leave in a half-savage mind would be more useful than a heap of absurd facts perfectly remembered. At bottom it is more important even that a French child should know something of Mohammed or Buddha than of Fredegunde. Although Mohammed