a better life, affording comfort in affliction, and restraining their cravings. Religious beliefs are but the poetic materialisation of moral truths. By maturing the popular mind, by improved education, the time will come--in some far-distant future--when man will need no other dogma than that natural one which is faith in _himself_, without which he does not (consciously) exist. On the day when religion shall no longer serve to govern morals, it will be useless. For many it is already a dead letter. That matters nothing in the case of those whose morality, I repeat, is based on reason; but how regrettable when it is a question of persons of inferior intelligence who, without fixed rules, are unable to attain the perception of good and evil! Amongst certain peoples, a religion was founded by philosophers as long ago as 500 years before Christ. Did not Confucius correct the habits of his country, reform justice, and bring in prosperity, through moral training? Chief authority of a new sect, governed by the idea of rectitude in the life, he organised a state of things which continues yet. This may happen later on in our Western countries; but until we have replaced the ancient creeds by a moral Ideal impressed upon all minds, it will be necessary to keep up the religious sentiment amongst the people, who have remained hitherto an unconscious force. THE PRESS “The newspaper,” says Eugène Tavernier, “is the expression of society.” That is a rudimentary truth which has strangely lost its meaning since the Press, whose social rôle was that of an educator, gave itself up to sectarianism, and, in consequence, was no longer able to exercise, for the most part, a really moral influence. From the fact that the Press sells itself shamelessly to its supporters, it often happens that it attacks the weak and blindly defends the strong, thus making capital out of ostracism and injustice. Present-day morals have destroyed the original character of the newspaper. In the hands of men more concerned with their personal interests than the good of their country or the pursuit of truth, the Press has sacrificed everything to profit, for money is its object. Newspapers are bazaars where everything is sold, calumny included. And the turmoil of life has made of the journalist a purveyor of sensational news, of paradoxes which falsify the popular judgment, and information as misleading as it is swiftly obtained. The result is that in our democratic times, when everyone claims the right to give expression to his ideas, we see most journalists writing to order and playing the sorry part of impersonal machines. Since writers worthy of the name found themselves obliged to bow to the will of these dealers in spoilt paper, many of them have refused to write for the daily papers.