We have been born in one of those times of transition, we are present at the death of a whole world of beliefs.

How long will the agony last?
Who knows?
Two centuries?
Possibly less may be wanted to crystallise in humanity a fresh proof of its uncertainty and of its fear of the great mystery of nature, but death is certain, inevitable.

But what religion has been eternal?
The symptoms of dissolution are visible everywhere.

Where is that faith that drove those warlike multitudes to the crusades?
Where is that fervour which continued building cathedrals for a couple of hundred years with angelic patience to shelter a host under a mountain of stone?
Who scourges themselves to-day, or tortures their flesh, or lives in the desert musing continually on death and hell?
Three centuries of intolerance and of excessive clerical severity have made our nation the most indifferent to all religious matters.

The ceremonies of worship are followed by routine, because they appeal to the imagination, but no one takes the trouble to understand the foundations of the beliefs they profess; they live as they please, certain that in their last hours it is sufficient to save their souls, to die surrounded by priests with a crucifix in their hands.