If this book could take over something of the prestige enjoyed until recently by Renan's Vie de Jesus, it would be a great blessing for France and for us all—instead of the portrait of Christ according to Rousseau, to have one which despite many faults and insufficiencies is at least genuinely Catholic. It is not a preposterous hope. In our own country already the Daily Express has been placarding generous excerpts from the book. And—a more serious factor—it has found a translator who has supplied a sufficiently attractive text. However, this article is not concerned with the external success of the book, but only with certain of its internal failures. Not with the idea of condemnation, but of reaching a sober appreciation. Fortunately, it is possible in this task to make use of an article contributed to the July issue of the Revue Biblique of last year, in which Père Lagrange, O.P. —whose judgment in such a matter is pre-eminently valuable—has expressed himself freely and at some length. But only when appeal is made explicitly to this authority can the views here expressed be taken as having any supercharged value.