A strange anomaly confronts us to-day. We turn from a State inordinately preoccupied with the affairs of the individual to the anarchical interests of Capital hardly conceding to the vast majority of individuals the right to live. Twin Apollyons straddle right across the way with the forces of the world arrayed severally behind them; they have enlisted, between them, every influence, cultural and to a great extent religious; whether or not it be argued that the latter is detached from its true fons et origo. Recurrent contacts between the two, here hostile, there sympathetic, are evidently too many and too involved for anything less than an economic atlas of the world to review. And Catholics in England do not lack their prophets to foretell the destiny of every straw in the wind. At present we must be content with little more than the acknowledgement of certain chilly spasms of apprehension that stir us as the westerly breath that suggests the stormgib. For all we are very much at sea there may be precautions to suit any manner of emergency.
Or, to revert to Bunyan’s metaphor, we will enquire what armament poor Christian can call exclusively his own.
To the muddled vision of this world Catholicism presents a stream of contradictions. The Church, for instance, who is the friend of sinners, is the relentless enemy of Sin. Unmollified by respectability, by the appeal of polygamy to the Law (or of marital onanism to the economy of hygiene) it is She nevertheless who flings wide her doors to the too-unclean for Mammon’s Temples, that prostitute and outcast may enter with the blest. It is a matter of some scandal to our contemporary the progressive protestant.’