The Project Gutenberg eBook of Journal in France in 1845 and 1848 with Letters from Italy in 1847, by T. W. (Thomas William) Allies

"What is this silent might, making our darkness light,
New wine our waters, heavenly Blood our wine?
Christ, with His Mother dear, and all His saints, is here,
And where they dwell is heaven, and what they touch divine."

Our room looks out on the end of the Grand Canal, into whose waters a slight jump would convey one some fifty feet down. It is one of the greatest thoroughfares and finest views in Venice. Gondolas are perpetually flitting by; I had my first glide in one to-day for several hours up and down the Grand Canal. I can't say I feel the smallest sympathy with the ruling spirit of ancient Venice, but it is something to be on a spot so long the seat of empire; I feel that I shall feed for the ensuing year on this excursion, and this adds much to its pleasure. We were all delighted with Trent: it is magnificently situated in the midst of mountains, with that wild rapid Adige sweeping through it. The church in which the Council sat is, of course, very interesting. We called twice on the bishop; first to ask his permission to see the Estatica; secondly, to give him our report. He received us with the greatest politeness, talked about Church matters in England, and perhaps was gratified, if not surprised, by three English priests falling on their knees to receive his benediction. I hope you got my long letter of the 1st of August, giving our visit to Capriana and Caldaro. We all look back on that with great satisfaction.

August 6th.—Venice this morning is in all its beauty; we have just taken a gondola for the day, to visit churches and paintings,—Titian's finest are here. We take coffee morning and evening in the Piazzetta of St. Mark, the great resort. It is with great difficulty one can get along without an officious shoe-black insisting upon the satisfaction of cleaning that part of one's dress. If they happen to be dirty, the creature can no more be driven away than a hungry mosquito; he buzzes round and round and round, till the only way is to stop and let him draw his sous.

I left Venice yesterday morning, on my way home, alone, I am sorry to say, for my two companions proceed to Bologna and Florence, and will not be back in England till the end of September. It seems to me quite a different thing now I have to go by myself; and the only comforting thought is, that every step brings me nearer home. I am not likely to lose much time on the road, and I hope to be with you on the day I mentioned in my last; viz., Tuesday, the 26th.—I meant to have written to you again from Venice, but our days went swiftly there, and when we returned in the evening I was too much tired for the exertion. Venice will remain as a strange and beautiful dream in my remembrance. After all that one had heard it required sight to realise a city rising out of the water on all sides, whose streets are canals, whose doors open by flights of stairs on the water, whose carriages are gondolas, and the most agreeable kind of carriage I ever was in; for one reclines in them most lazily, like lotos eaters, and sees palace and church, and all sorts of strange-looking heterogeneous buildings sweep gently by, in a sort of sleep; while every now and then comes a bit of semi-eastern architecture, rich ogee windows, and arcades which perfectly delighted me, and quite as often we wound through narrow, dirty, motionless canals, that seemed just suited to a purpose they no doubt often served,—the drowning troublesome bodies. But one sight we saw which you would have thoroughly entered into. On Sunday afternoon, as we got into a gondola, the gondolier informed us that he could not take us at the accustomed fare that evening, from six to eight, for it was his especial harvest time, that all the world went to the music on the Grand Canal. Accordingly, after looking for some time at the Euganean hills and Friuli mountains, which are a glorious sight to the north of Venice, we bade him take us to meet the music on the Grand Canal. This is about 200 feet wide, winds most beautifully through the city, having the Rialto bridge about the middle, and is bordered by the finest palaces. We soon met the Archduke's gondola, and behind it a great crowd of others covering the whole breadth of the canal, shouldering and elbowing each other, the gondoliers shouting, watching every one else's gondola as well as their own, applauding or blaming, as might be. Each boat has one man on a little covered deck near the stern, where he balances himself admirably, and mainly directs the boat, serving both as oar and rudder, and another not quite so near to the prow. In the middle ladies recline on cushions, and no Hyde Park carriage serves to set off beauty and fashion so well as those wicked barks of Venice, which have screened so many tricks both of man and woman, for so many hundred years. On this occasion, however, the part of the boat which serves for shelter, coolness, or concealment, as it may be,—that is, a sort of cabin, covered with crape, is taken away, and the cushions afford a full view of whatever they carry. Into this press and throng of little gallies we passed with the rest; the scene every moment changing, the gondoliers vociferating, the boats seeming in perpetual collision, now jammed close together, and again emerging into a few feet of clear water, the band playing close behind us. Every now and then adventurous boats came from the other direction, and how they made themselves a way into a throng that seemed quite full before was the wonder. Some of the gondoliers were dressed in fanciful liveries, which added much to their appearance. This was all in the last light of day, and we agreed that we had never seen so interesting and original a piece of fun. A single gondolier thus standing on his little deck will guide his boat with admirable skill, and though it is near forty feet long, he will make it turn the corners of the narrowest canals, and wind through opposing boats without touching. For this purpose, when he approaches a corner which he has to turn, perhaps at right angles, of course not knowing what is coming the other side, he sings out in good time, Stalí, or Staprimí; answering to starboard and larboard; and thus collisions are generally avoided, though barges act in an unkind and domineering manner towards their slighter brethren, and move about with a consciousness that they are the "iron pots" against the "earthen." These canals are not always free from another danger, as we were near learning to our cost. The last evening, as we emerged from one of the thousand bridges, came a violent smash into the boat, which made me jump. It was a whole wine bottle which descended, and broke itself on W——'s back. Providentially he was not much hurt, but I thought it might just as easily have been my head, which was uncovered at the time, and which it would certainly have broken. I suppose it was done thoughtlessly, but we could not discover the person. Almost all our time was spent in the open air at Venice, with occasional visits to the picture galleries and churches. We were all much struck with the number of persons attending services on week days. There are Masses perpetually going on, sometimes two or three at different altars, from early in the morning till past noon, and each would have its circle of worshippers, men as well as women. Besides, persons would be kneeling in all parts. The largest church in Venice, S. Giovanni e Paolo, a very fine one, full of grand tombs of the ancient Doges, had the exposition of the Holy Sacrament for five days over the Great Altar, which was fitted up with crimson hangings all round, and a great quantity of lights; in the centre, in a remonstrance, the Host was exposed, places for kneeling stretched a great way down the church. I was in it almost every day, and always saw a great many kneeling and saying their prayers. We heard a sermon in St. Mark's on Sunday, about the different modern systems of physical philosophy, and their manifold absurdities. Morning and evening we took our coffee, often relieved with ices, in the Piazza of St. Mark, which in the evening is a great rendezvous, and serves the ladies in the summer instead of receiving company at home. Then we used to walk under the Doge's palace, and talk of things past, present, and to come, of which the two former were the pleasanter. We were generally very unanimous, liking the same buildings, the same pictures, and the same principles; disliking with one accord that huge variety of beard and whisker and moustache, in which "Young Italy," no less than "Young France," luxuriates. The journey here took twenty-three hours from Venice, the heat and dust dreadful. To-morrow I shall see the Feast of the Assumption, which you remember we passed together at Amiens four years ago. On Monday my place is taken to Lucerne, thirty-two hours' journey from here, so that night I shall begin to scale the Alps by the St. Gothard pass, descending on that most lovely lake, and the worst part of my journey will be over. August 15th. I went just now to see the sun rise from the top of the cathedral. As I entered it just before five, I found a good many people, mostly of a poor class, already there. At five a priest entered, and began communicating people before the rails of an altar in the transept. This is done very rapidly; as with only a previous blessing he takes the pyx from the tabernacle over the altar, in which the Host is reserved, and holding a Host between the fingers and thumb, makes with It the sign of the cross, saying in Latin, "The Body of the Lord preserve thy soul to eternal life," and puts It on the tongue. When I came down an hour after, I saw a much larger number, and after celebrating Mass he began communicating a fresh set. In this way a great number can receive in a morning at different altars, without much waiting. As for effect, they understand it well here; the lights burning on and before the altars, and the deep religious gloom of the duomo itself, especially in early morning, add all that can be added to the solemnity of such a scene. This is going on without intermission, till the High Mass at eleven. It certainly looks to me very like reality.

JOURNAL.—1848.

Paris. Windsor Hotel, Rue de Rivoli, July 18. 1848.—I have been nine days in France, and the kindness of friends has not left me an hour to put down my thoughts. Yet assuredly, in so utter a change of one's usual habits and sights, the mind has been more affected than during many weeks of sedentary occupations. But when one has been profoundly moved either by a religious service, or a conversation, or place or building, it is a great effort to sit down, collect one's thoughts, and turn one's eyes inward on oneself. Generally, too, by the end of the day we were so fatigued that such an effort became physically impossible.

We left Southampton at five P.M., on Saturday, the 8th July. A good deal of wind, and sea rough. Passed off Portsmouth the fleet of ten men-of-war, one three decker, St. Vincent, 104 guns; four two deckers; and five frigates. Most majestic they looked unmoved amid the freshening waves. I can never see a ship of war without my heart bounding. Byron has exactly expressed one's feeling:—

"She walks the waters like a thing of life,

And seems to dare the elements to strife."

At five we found ourselves on the quai at Havre. The douane here is so polite as to keep one's luggage till eight o'clock—a kindness which is carried still further by the police, as the visa of passports does not commence till eleven. So I proposed to walk to the beautiful Norman church of Graville, the pendant of our own St. Cross, half way up that delightful côte which looks down on the embouchure of the Seine, and the high coast of Honfleur and Caen. The view from the terrace of the old Priory is most charming; and behind the church a most picturesque cemetery stretches up the steep hill. There is a perfect cross a little to the west of the church, which is very pleasing. We found the church empty, and said our English office before one of the altars. I do not like the effect of two windows in the apse, which symbolise, I suppose, the Two Natures, but otherwise this church is a beautiful specimen of a Norman parish church. However, its nave has been recently defiled by most protestant-looking pews; and under the tower, just before the chancel, there actually is to be seen a squireen's pew, with a table and cloth in it. The chapel and image of the Blessed Virgin were the most pleasing. At three we went on to Ivetot, and found a most kind welcome from our friends. They lodged us in a house they have lately purchased, in their garden, where, for the first time in my life, I had the honour of a silver bason and ewer. We supped in the refectory, at a table in the middle, with M. le Supérieur. Silence is kept at the meals, and one of the pupils reads from a pulpit on one side. The pupils act as servants in turn during the meal.

Monday, July 10.—We heard two sermons, morning and afternoon, from M. P. L. Labbé to the confirmands, fifty-nine in number. Our friend's manner was mild and paternal, yet full of zeal and unction. His morning subject was, "You have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but ye have received the spirit of adoption whereby we cry Abba Father." He distinguished between servile fear and filial fear—between Jewish bondage and Christian adoption; beseeching his hearers ever to cherish in their hearts the sense of God's paternal love, and that "we can never know how much God loves us in this world;" and then he urged them, if ever they fell into sin, to fly to God at once for pardon, never distrusting Him, however great their own unworthiness; reminding them that the tribunal of penitence was ever open to them. In the afternoon his subject was, "Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you, and ye shall be witnesses unto me." That at confirmation there was a larger infusion of the Holy Spirit than at baptism—what it was to be witnesses to God—witnesses by our whole life and conversation. These two addresses much pleased me, both as to manner and matter.

We had the privilege of saying our English office in their chapel, where the single lamp marks the presence of the Holy Sacrament. How great a blessing is this, that the Lord of the Temple dwells bodily in it—how great a realising of the Incarnation. The chapel is a very pleasing imitation of the middle Gothic style, built from the designs of M. Robert, who, being a pupil of the Ecole Polytechnique, gave up all prospects in the world for the hard and painful life of a priest in a petit séminaire: and not only he, but all who are there, seem to have their daily life supported by a spring of charity in themselves; and the great self-denial which accompanies it seems borne as if it were no weight at all, for they look for the recompense of the reward. During the five days we passed at Ivetot we remarked again and again to each other the atmosphere of fraternal charity which all seemed to breathe. There was no looking for success in the world—no thought of gaining wealth; but the one thing in view was to train the children committed to them as members of Christ and heirs of His kingdom. This one thought pervaded all their actions. In the evening the Archbishop of Rouen came, attended by his vicaire général, M. Surgis. The masters and ourselves supped in private with him; and I was confounded at being put on his right, as P. was on his left. His own affability, however, and the unaffected kindness and ease of his demeanour with his clergy, soon made one feel comfortable.

Tuesday, July 11.—The confirmation was at nine. The pupils formed in procession along the corridor into the chapel, some sixty or eighty of the rear in albes, followed by the masters and some other clergy, the cross and crosier immediately preceding the Archbishop; we followed behind, and then mounted to the latticed tribune at the end of the chapel, whence the whole disposition of the congregation, the multitude of albes, the altar dressed for the Holy Sacrifice, and the splendid habit of the Archbishop, formed a most pleasing scene. He said Mass, and communicated, I should think, a hundred pupils; as they knelt two and two all up the chapel and received successively from his hands, nothing could be more solemn. There was a moment in this service particularly touching—the Archbishop took his crosier in his hand and standing before the altar said, "Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater, et Filius +, et Spiritus Sanctus." It seemed like the great High Priest Himself blessing His people. After Mass he stood before the middle of the altar, and, requesting them to be seated, addressed them for about twenty minutes. His manner was a mixture of grace and simplicity most pleasing to behold; indeed, his whole demeanour represented exactly the priest, the father, and the bishop, and left behind it a perfume as it were of the heavenly hierarchy, among whose earthly counterpart he ranked. He enlarged upon the triple blessing bestowed upon us by the Holy Trinity, in creation, in redemption, and in sanctification. Presently he spoke of the Holy Eucharist as an extension of the Incarnation, (rapétissant) gathering it up into little; and of Christ therein really, substantially, and personally present in us. His vicaire général said, that in daily confirmations during two months he never repeated himself, but varied each address. He had no note, and spoke without effort. Then followed an examination of the confirmans by himself during about thirty-five minutes. He took boys here and there and asked them questions on the elements of the faith, the sacraments, &c., in so low a voice that I could only catch the general import. Then came the confirmation itself, which, like our own, is very short. He stood at the middle of the altar, and stretching out his hands towards the people, called down on the confirmans kneeling before him the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Ghost:

"Fill them, O Lord, with the spirit of thy fear, and sign them with the sign of the cross of Christ unto eternal life."

The repetition of the Amen at intervals by the confirmans gives a feature to this prayer which our own does not possess. Then the confirmans, two by two, came kneeling to his chair before the altar, and he signed them on the forehead with the holy chrism, naming each by his Christian name as he said, "I sign thee with the sign of the + cross and confirm thee with the chrism of salvation, in the name of the Father+, and of the Son+, and of the Holy Ghost+. Amen." The service occupied three hours; but in country parishes it is not usually preceded by the Mass.

We had then a grand dinner at a table placed in the middle of the refectory, several clergy, friends of the house, being present. There was plenty of talking, the rule of silence being suspended by the presence of the archbishop.

In the evening there was a solemn Benediction, at which the archbishop did not officiate, but was in a chair near the altar.

After dinner, two of the pupils, one from the older and one from the younger division of the school, recited verses before the archbishop, and the whole school seemed delighted at the words of kindness he addressed to them. I heard our friend, in one of his addresses, remind them that the archbishop was the head and master of the house, and so they all appeared to feel him to be.

In the evening we were all collected, in a somewhat suspicious manner, for some exhibition in a long hall, at the end of which a carpet was spread, and a chair placed for the archbishop. I asked M. Robert what was coming; but he replied, "Pour nous autres Français, vous savez, nous sommes des fous: il faut que nous rions de tout!" I will not say that the entertainment verified his former proposition, but certainly it did the latter. M. Picard, curé of the cathedral of Rouen, took out a paper, and began reading a copy of verses by himself, commemorating a recent fall from his horse of one of the tutors. At each verse the boys took up couplet and refrain, and sung it with hearty good will. This continued for some twenty or thirty stanzas. The boys needed but the hint. I thought to myself, I doubt whether it would improve the discipline of Eton to collect the boys in the long school room together to commemorate an equestrian lapse of my friend C. or A., supposing them to have met with one. The refrain,

"Quel est ce cavalier là
Qu'il mene bien son dada,
Tra-la-la tra-la-la,"

sounded by 250 voices, still rings in my ears. This was succeeded by another song, recited in the same manner, on M. Robert's propensities to study the moon.

We supped, as before, upstairs, and had some pleasant conversation with the archbishop.

Wednesday, July 12.—The archbishop sent for us this morning, inquired into our views in visiting France, and gave us each an Imitation of Christ and a small cross which he had blessed. He expressed in the most cordial manner his pleasure at seeing us, and pressed us to visit him at Rouen. After an early dinner, M. P. L. Labbé insisted on taking us to see the old abbey church of Fécamp; we went partly by railway, and, as the diligence was waiting for the train from Havre, walked some three miles, and then took a char-à-banc from Goderville. We went to the curé's house at Fécamp: but he was building, and so we all lodged with M. l'Abbé Lefevre, formerly curate there, but now living with his sister without any direct charge. M. Labbé kept us, both at supper and dinner the next day, in continual merriment by his stories.

Thursday, July 13.—M. Beaucamp, the curé, took us all over the magnificent abbey church, dating from the 10th to the 12th century, and near 400 feet long. He pointed out the variations in style and construction. It sadly wants the whitewash removed. This was last evening. This morning he took us en pélérinage to Notre Dame de Salut, a chapel built by our Henry I., and one of four on this coast. The view was glorious over land and sea, the crag being 400 feet high. The poor fisher-women at times mount the côte on their knees, to make vows for their husbands' safe return. The pays-de-caux is a fine rolling country, with groves of beech at intervals, a broad expanse looking most rich and prosperous. Fécamp is stuck in a deep valley between lofty downs. We enjoyed particularly M. Lefevre's hospitable reception, and went back for supper at Ivetot. The weather is delightful—a brilliant sun, with plenty of air.

Friday, July 14.—M. P. L. Labbé, in his extreme kindness, would take us to Rouen to lodge in the house of M. Picard, curé of Notre Dame. It is in places a very pretty road to Rouen by the railway. We were able to say our English office quite uninterrupted in the Lady Chapel of the cathedral about eleven. M. Labbé staid with us all that day, taking us to different places. Amongst others, he carried us to the Carmelite nunnery, where we heard, but did not see, a sister who had been there fourteen years: she was formerly confessed by him, but in all that time he had never seen her. The rule is that none but father, mother, sister, or brother, can have the curtain of the grille drawn back, behind which the sister speaks to her visitors. She was telling us how her little nephews saw her when they were very young and came with their mother, but when a little older were no longer allowed this privilege: so the mother sat on one side, with the curtain drawn back before her so that she could see her sister; but the children on the other, with the curtain drawn, could only hear her. This pained them so much that they did not like to visit her. The sister's conversation was anything but sad: she spoke with most lively interest of a Carmelite nun lately departed at Tours, who had foretold all the disasters under which France was now suffering, ascribing them to the general godlessness, specially on two points—the blaspheming of God's name and the profanation of the Lord's Day. She gave us prayers composed with reference to this. When M. Labbé told her that we were not united to the Roman Church, she made a considerable pause, and seemed to draw her breath as if something unexpected had come upon her; then she said that she should pray earnestly for us, and that every Thursday with them Mass was said with special intention for England. She went for the prioress, who likewise spoke for some time; she had a most clear and pleasant voice, which it was delightful to hear.

In the afternoon M. le Curé and M. Labbé took us to call on the archbishop. He was very cordial—asked us to dine that day; and when we said we had already dined, repeated his invitation for Saturday, including M. Picard and his vicaire, M. de la Haye. Labbé was obliged to return. Before we left he insisted upon taking us over his palace. There is a splendid suite of rooms, terminating with a noble library: he has been collecting the portraits of his predecessors: he is himself the eighty-ninth archbishop. His palace is kept in repair at the public expense of the department, and three rooms are even furnished for him, an annual visitation of the furniture, as he himself told us, taking place. This archevéché is the ancient building, and of very great size—built as strong as a fortress: he showed us a window from which he had lately watched a barricade in the street below and saw a man killed. He took us last to the chapel—a plain Grecian building: hither the remains of the Empress Maud, lately discovered at the abbey of Bec, have been placed provisionally. It was only at her own earnest prayer, that the emperor, her husband, allowed her to be buried in a monastery, saying that she was too great a lady to be buried save at Rouen. The archbishop said that he seldom celebrated publicly in the cathedral, only about four times a year, "mais par la miséricorde de Dieu je dis la messe tous les jours dans ma chapelle."

M. le Curé's usual hours are to dine at twelve, before which he takes nothing, and to sup about eight. He asked two or three clergy continually to meet us, at one of these meals, during the three days we were with him. His reason for taking nothing before noon, is that, after saying Mass, he is continually so occupied by his parishioners, that many times he would be unable to breakfast, so he thought it better to make the rule absolute. The confessional is a very heavy burden—a couple of hours daily, on an average; and, before great fêtes, sometimes seven hours at a time. Labbé told us he had once confessed for twenty-three successive hours. This is a duty to which they may be called at any hour of the day or night. M. Picard and his curate, M. de la Haye, could hardly find time to dine with the archbishop on Saturday, at seven in the evening, and stole away as soon as they could.

Saturday, July 15.—Our good M. Labbé returned to Ivetot this morning; he had surrendered to me his room. In the afternoon M. Picard took us about to the Hôtel de Ville—the ancient Benedictine abbey of S. Ouen: in the public library here we were shown the most magnificent gradual, full of very beautiful drawings. It had been used one hundred years before the Revolution, and, I should think, was unique, as we were told. The garden and corridors were occupied by National Guard; but M. le Curé's presence obtained us permission to survey the wonderful church, the masterwork of middle and late pointed Gothic, on that side, together with its portail des marmouzets, of matchless beauty. At S. Vincent's we saw eleven windows of very brilliant painted glass, which surround the choir, and are visible at once. We then walked up Mount St. Catherine, from whence the view of Rouen and the surrounding hills is charming. I have always thought the site of this city one of the finest I have ever seen, and it looked so to-day, under a July sun. We went on to Notre Dame de bon Secours, which is now nearly finished: the inside and western façade pleased us much. The latter has three portals, after the manner of the great mediæval churches dedicated in honour of Notre Dame, and is well combined and harmonised. The inside is of the architecture of our Edward II.; very good upon the whole: all the windows of painted glass, not unmixedly good, but the whole effect very striking. It has cost 40,000l., begged or given by the curé: a noble work indeed. The ex-votos are now inserted into the northern aisle. We should have liked to stay much longer here, but were hurried to return to the archbishop's dinner. We did not dine till half-past seven; nine in number, at a round table in a large hall. He apologised that it was a maigre. But, with the several kinds of fish, no one could have desired a better dinner. The archbishop, myself on his right, P. on his left, MM. Les Abbés Picard, De la Haye, Surgis, two others, and M. Barthélemi, the architect of bon Secours. We were struck by his conversation—he seemed a Christian architect, which is a rare and valuable thing. During the evening the deplorable state of France, the overthrow of fortunes, the general cessation of trade, and the frightful excesses of the late conflict, were talked of. The archbishop mentioned a man taken with arms in his hand, who was on the point of being executed by the soldiers, when the general officer interfered, and, by his solicitude, saved his life. The culprit took a pistol from his waist, said "Mercie, Colonel," and shot him dead. He was immediately cut to pieces. Every one seems to agree that the Republic cannot last—that there must be a monarchy; yet that minds are so embittered, and passions so excited, that France must come to this only through lassitude of suffering. No one knows what a day may produce. In Rouen there is great suffering—the shop-keepers sell nothing—the workmen have no employment. At Havre the warehouses are crammed with goods, for which there is no sale. Landed property, if forced to be sold, will not fetch half its value. No one can tell how long this will go on, or what will be the end of it. France is in complete paralysis. The source of all this misery is a wide-spread infidelity, united with the rage for material enjoyments, and a refined taste in pursuing them.

The scale of the archbishop's household seemed to me decent and proper, without being that of the Grand Seigneur in any respect. I liked and respected him much more than if he could have had the twenty liveried servants of his predecessor the Cardinal Archbishop Prince of Croï, when high almoner to Charles Dix. He is now the earnest and laborious head of a toiling and suffering but most charitable and devoted clergy. The one hope of France lies in her children being taught from the cradle the via crucis, via Regis.

Sunday, July 16.—Fête du sacré cœur de Jesu. After our own office in the morning we have been nearly six hours at the cathedral to-day, between High Mass in the morning—and Vespers, sermon, compline, and benediction in the evening. Certainly the key note of all the Roman services is, "The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us." The presence of the Incarnation broods like a spirit over all: gives meaning to every genuflection at the altar; life to every hymn; harmony to that wonderful array of saints, with the Virgin Mother at their head, who intercede with the most Holy Trinity, and join their praises with the angelic hosts, and the voices of feeble men suffering the conflict of the flesh. Around the Incarnation drawn out, applied to daily life, brought before the eye and the heart, enfolding the penitent at the confessional, exalting the priest at the altar, the whole worship revolves; children unconsciously live on it; mothers, through it, look on their children, till maternal love becomes itself deeper, warmer, and holier. Through it and by it the priest bears his life of toil and self-denial so easily, that charity seems like the breath by which he lives. What is the secret of this? It is that daily approach in the morning to the Most Holy One; that daily reception of Him, which deifies flesh and blood.

Such has been the impression of to-day's worship; it was devotion indeed: that is, the ascending of the heart to its own Lord: not a perpetual effort to work on the understanding, but the lifting of the higher power, the spirit in man, by which all are equal, to God. This begins with the holy Sacrifice in the morning, and ends with the exhibition of that same tremendous Sacrifice, the Incarnation of Love, in the evening. "The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us," is the first and last: He comes amid a cloud of His saints: they are powerful because they are His: their works are mighty because He works in them, their supplications prevail because they, being flesh and blood, have become partakers of the Word made flesh. She, most of all, whose most pure substance He took to make His own for ever: so that what came of her is joined in hypostatic union with God, and is God. Thus seen, the communion of saints is a real thing, embracing our daily life at a thousand points, the extension and drawing out of the Incarnation, understood by it, and in it. To those who do not realise that tremendous Presence at the altar the saints are so many sinful men and women made gods and goddesses, and those who reverence them idolators. How much do people lose by such a misconception: how utterly do they fail to perceive the length and depth and breadth and height of the Truth: they halve and quarter the Incarnation and boast that they alone understand it. These multiplied prayers and hymns seem to them a form, the bowing of the body a mockery, for they discern not Him who walks amid the golden candlesticks—it is emptiness to them, for He is not there.

The archbishop was kind enough to have us placed in the choir, just below the sanctuary.

At dinner at twelve M. le Curé had invited M. Surgis, M. de la Haye, and his two other curates, one of whom preached in the afternoon on the necessity of the cross, first to the righteous and then to sinners: he enlarged upon the many ways in which God brings both to Him by the application of suffering, humiliation, &c.

In the evening M. le Curé took us to pay our respects to the archbishop once more. We heard much talk again of the deplorable state of France. He was very cordial to us, hoped we should not get near a barricade, and expressed his satisfaction at having met us.

Monday, July 17.—I had a quiet walk round St. Ouen and to the Lady Chapel there. I can fancy being able to retire to that church once a day being a consolation to many a life of toil. Yesterday, after the services, we seemed fit for nothing but to mount its roof and look on the great works of God around one there. At two we took a carriage to the seminaire of M. l'Abbé Lambert, Bois Guillaume. He is a person of fortune, who to satisfy his father entered the Ecole Polytechnique, and studied there for some time; but as soon as his father would consent, became a priest, to which he had always felt a vocation, and has given up his fortune to build a college for boys of the higher class. He has a beautiful spot on the top of the hill to the north of Rouen, covered with a garden, an orchard, and rows of beech trees of some sixty years' growth. He has now fifty-two boys, and eight priests, with himself, to instruct them. The object is to give a really Christian education, without directing the boys to enter into orders, which parents generally of that rank are much set against. Thus they only hear Mass twice on week days. We had a long conversation with him. He seemed much to regret the want of independence produced by, or at least existing in, French education. He receives a government inspector every year, though his house is his own. This inspector objected to the beds of his pupils having curtains, as making surveillance more difficult. I told him of my surprise to find at M. Poileau's academy, near Paris, a rule that two sick boys should never be in the infirmary alone. He said he should have expected such a rule. He inquired with interest about the independence of the English character. It struck me forcibly here what an immense advantage the rule of celibacy offers to the Church for education. Here were eight masters for fifty-two boys, and yet the pension so moderate as 1000 francs. At Eton, where the cost is nigh four times as great, the number of boys at the same proportion would require ninety-six masters, instead of about sixteen. But here all personal advancement is given up. There is no increasing family to be supported: personal gain or honour is neither the motive, nor a motive, but simply the higher one of fulfilling a great duty, and winning a bright crown. This complete self-devotion seems necessarily killed by the marriage tie, so that the highest works both of the priesthood and of education are thus cut off; and it may be doubted how far, in the present relation of the state to the Church all over the world, any body of ministers who are involved in the closest ties with the world can meet the exigencies of the times, or maintain the most necessary and fundamental liberties of the Church, either as to dogma or as to discipline. The great masses seem every where to be in such a state of irritation, or ignorance, or prejudice, that nothing but the spectacle of great and daily self-denial, of zeal and learning, combined with poverty, and exhibited in the persons of those drawn from the people itself, or of those who surrender a higher rank to belong to the people, will make any great and permanent impression on them. The more I reflect, the more it appears to me that the priesthood and the ecclesiastical colleges of France have in them this element of success.

M. Lambert's college is to be a quadrangle, of the style of the old chateaux in Louis XIV.'s time. Two sides are nearly finished. It will be a very pleasing and appropriate building when completed, and is from the design of M. Robert. The boys now sleep in two dormitories, which, like all the house, are scrupulously clean and neat, the masters among them, the only discernible difference being a little wider space between a master's and the adjoining bed.

In the course of to-day, I asked a person well qualified to judge, whether the university colleges were now in a better state as to the morals of their inmates: the answer expressed a fear that they were even worse.

We left our kind host M. Picard this afternoon, and went by railway to Mantes. It is a fine and noble country all the way; the view of Rouen as one passes over the bridge, under Notre Dame de bon Secours, is of ravishing beauty. The lofty banks of the Seine, 400 feet high, accompany one at a little distance, most of the way—and twice a tunnel cuts through them, and comes out suddenly on the peaceful banks of the river again. The country is cut on a broad and large scale, which contrasts strongly with the limited and smaller prospects in England. We reached Mantes just in time to have a look at the beautiful church of Notre Dame, worthy of its builders, Blanche of Castile and S. Louis.

Tuesday, July 18.—We attended a Low Mass at six this morning, in the Lady Chapel at Notre Dame; there were a good many people, sisters of charity, and Christian brothers, and several communicants. This church is one of great purity and chasteness, and full of symbolism. The numbers seven and three perpetually occur in the windows and bays. There are seven bays of the nave, and seven round the apse—seven great rose windows over the vaulted triforium round the apse: many most beautiful windows of geometric tracery, with trefoils arranged in threes. In each bay of the nave the triforium has three smaller bays formed by most elegant colonnettes. The western façade, up to the gallery, is of rare dignity and beauty.

We reached Paris at a quarter past ten, and in a few minutes were on our way to our Hotel Windsor; the soldiers were bivouacking in the railway station. I was then more than five hours writing my journal from the beginning. In the evening we walked to Notre Dame, along the quais, and to the Hôtel de Ville. The thoroughfares were thronged with National Guards, and an idle or unoccupied population. Woe to the nation of which these are rulers.

Wednesday, July 19.—We went to the Séminaire d'Issy to call on M. Galais, but found him out. Returning we called on M. l'Abbé Ratisbonne, and had a long conversation with him. I explained the motive of my coming to Paris; he was astonished to hear that there were yet persons of information and good faith among us who believe that Roman Catholics adore the Blessed Virgin, and put her, in some sort, in the place of our Lord. He said it was not honourable to impute such things to them; that she was a simple creature, advanced by God to the highest possible honour of being mother of our Lord. If there were nothing else objectionable in Protestantism, the disregard of the Blessed Virgin alone would repel and disgust him. Did the Apostles, in the presence of Christ, turn their back on his mother? "If," said he, "I had the honour to be acquainted with your mother, as I have to be acquainted with you, I should take good care in speaking to you not to turn my back on her." The conversation turned on the Pope's Primacy, both in an historical point of view, and still more as a moral necessity; but when I urged that the Episcopate was as a chamber of Peers, in which the Pope held the first rank, he agreed, and said he was primus inter pares. He remarked on the bad way in which history had been written, and how little modern citers of original authors could be trusted as to expressions, which he had found numberless times in writing his life of S. Bernard. I inquired after his brother, who is now a deacon in a house of Jesuits, département de la Sarthe, I believe. Before parting he arranged for a subsequent meeting.

After dinner we walked again by the quais to Notre Dame—but it was already shut. The space round La Sainte Chapelle being part of the Palais de Justice was in full military occupation, and we did not see how to get in. Every where enormous numbers of National Guards are to be seen in possession of great public buildings, as so many garrisons in an enemy's land. We walked up the Rue S. Jacques, but there are very few traces of the very hot combat which is said to have raged here; how, indeed, that very narrow and ascending street could have been taken at all, is matter of wonder. If occupied throughout its whole extent by the insurgents, it must have been a most deadly battle field.

Thursday, July 20.—Presented a letter of introduction to Monseigneur Parisis, Bishop of Langres. He is short, about sixty years of age, with very determined countenance. We had a rather long conversation, in which he promised to be of any service he could to me in seeing Catholic matters, and sent out for an Abbé to conduct us to different places; but as he did not find him at home, he appointed us to come at seven P.M. When I told him that the worship of the Blessed Virgin was very generally imputed to Roman Catholics, he seemed much astonished, and thought that was gone by. "We account her," he said, "a simple creature, who has received from God the highest possible grace, to be the mother of our Lord. But all that she has is derived: to have life in one self, or to derive it from another, is an infinite difference." I spoke of Dr. —— and his book, and how little he appeared to me to have caught the Catholic idea. For instance, he had represented it as the duty of the French Bishops to defend the throne of Louis Philippe, rather than the Catholic faith. "It is wonderful, indeed," replied the Bishop, "how he can have supposed that, for we have been engaged throughout, and I foremost, in a struggle with Louis Philippe." He sketched the objects which we ought to see. "You must not look for the faith among the mass of the people here, for they have it not, but in religious houses, foreign missions, Catholic institutions, &c.—You have not had martyrs, I think, in the last twenty years: we have had many; and it is remarkable to observe how entirely the scenes of the first ages have been reproduced; the spirit of Christ has given birth to precisely the same answers to questions put to martyrs as of old by the spirit of the devil; and torments as terrible, tearing of the flesh, and hewing in pieces, have been borne. I was dining not long ago at the Foreign Missions, and was saying that the life of a missionary in China was not good, when all present cried out at once, clapping their hands; 'Oh, yes; but it is good—it is good.' French missionaries have subsisted," he continued, "for a long time without even bread, which is much for us, though not for you; while yours go out with wife and children, pour faire le commerce." I spoke with wonder of Monseigneur Borie's life, and how he had been able to eat even rats, as the natives in Cochin China did. The late Archbishop's martyrdom was mentioned by him with fervour; and he spoke very kindly of Dalgairns, whom he had ordained.

We went again at seven to the Bishop of Langres, who arranged for M. l'Abbé des Billiers to take us round to different persons, and especially the Père de Ravignan.

Friday, July 21.—Went at half-past ten to the Bishop of Langres, who told us of the new concordat between the Pope and the Czar, which would appear to recognise the authority of the Roman Catholic Bishops much more than the French government does. He seemed to think it a great gain. M. des Billiers then took us to the Père de Ravignan: we found M. l'Abbé de Casalès, Member of the National Assembly, with him, and had a lively conversation for about half an hour. Le Père de Ravignan and M. de Casalès both maintained that Mr. Newman's theory of developement was open ground. "Tout chemin mène à Rome," said the latter. "I know, by experience, how hard a matter it is to attain to the truth—that it is long in coming. It is the grace of God—not study, brings it. Thus, we have every feeling of charity for the great movement in England." They did not appear to think that Mr. Newman's theory and that of Cardinal Bellarmine intercepted each other; and as we were five, there was no good opportunity of setting forth our conception on that point. Le Père de Ravignan has the most pleasing and attaching demeanour of any person I have met with—he seems the Manning of France. He begged us warmly to come to-morrow, any time from seven to twelve A.M.; assuring us that he did not think it lost time to converse with us. He spoke with great respect of Dr. Pusey.

M. des Billiers then took us to Les Missions Etrangères, Rue du Bac. One of the professors accompanied us to La Salle des Martyrs; round this apartment are ranged pictures by Chinese Christians, representing the martyrdoms of Monseigneur Borie, M. Cornay, and the tortures inflicted on native Christians; against one side are five cases, with glass fronts; that in the centre contains the nearly complete skeleton of M. Borie: on each side are the bones of M. Cornay, and M. Jaccard; those of a native Chinese priest, a martyr, and reliques of S. Prosper, sent from Rome. On the opposite side is a long case containing memorials of different martyrs: chains, a letter written by M. Borie under sentence of death, his stole, parts of the cangue of native priests martyred, and also in a case the complete cangue of M. Borie, a frightful instrument of torture when fixed to the neck, and carried day and night, as it was by him under sentence of death, from July to November, 1838. The young missionaries make a visit here every evening, and pray before these relics of their brethren, soliciting their intercession,—a fitting preparation, I thought, for so difficult a task. Over the door was a print "of the seventy servants of God," martyred in Cochin China and those parts in the last few years.

In this house are about fifty young missionaries preparing to go into the East; of whom about twenty go out yearly. Many come there as priests, with strong recommendations from their several séminaires, bishops, &c. There is accordingly no fixed period for ascertaining their vocation, or instructing them. The readiness to give up friends and relations at home is a great step towards that perfect self-denial which is required for this office.

We were introduced to M. Voisin, who had been eight years in China, and returned in 1834. His account of the Chinese was that they were very ready to receive the Christian faith; that the notion of altar, sacrifice, and priest, was familiar to them; that they would not receive, indeed, a naked religion. Every house has its altar, and they burn incense before tablets containing the five words—Heaven, Earth, Relations, the Emperor, the Master. He showed us such a tablet, and a Christian one, on the other hand, which set forth the existence of one God, eternal, all wise and all good, creating all things out of nothing, The government alone stands in the way of the conversion of the Chinese. He said that the remarkable resemblance to Catholic rites and tenets found in Thibet dates from Franciscan and Dominican missionaries who laboured there with effect in the 13th century. The most ancient MS. of the Chinese are found not to go higher than the year 150 A.D., so that all discovered resemblances to Christian mysteries may have come from an early dissemination of the faith in China. They receive without hesitation the mysteries of the Trinity and the Incarnation, but reason against that of the perpetual virginity of the Blessed Virgin.

We saw here a professor who was under sentence of death in Cochin China, but escaped.

M. Galais took us this evening over the garden of the séminaire at Issy. I asked him for his view of the last revolution. He said he had two, and could not, unhappily, see which was most likely. First, that it was the purpose of God to punish to the utmost the wickedness, sensuality, and unbelief of the rich bourgeoisie, the middle class, who were willing to have religion as a police for the lower orders, but not as a spiritual rule of life; and in this point of view the most terrible convulsions might be expected. But, also, he was not without a hope that, as the Church in the 5th century had laid hold of the barbarians and moulded them into Christian polities, which for so many centuries bore noble fruits, so now, if she faithfully fulfilled her mission, if her priests were seen devoting themselves with a fervent charity to the task of teaching and converting the masses who are without God, and set bitterly against his Church, a like result might ensue, and society be saved from these extreme horrors. If the new archbishop was a man of organisation and capable of setting up institutions to penetrate the masses, there were many men of the most devoted charity among the clergy of Paris, who would second and carry out his design. I asked what had been the especial merit of the Bishop of Digne, for which he had been chosen to succeed at Paris. He said that there had been for some time complaints among the clergy respecting that excess of power given to the bishops by the last concordat, by which three-fourths even of the curés of their dioceses are 'amovibles' at their pleasure; so that only the curés in cities and towns are 'inamovibles;' whereas according to the ancient canon law all were so, except upon a regular ecclesiastical judgment. Now it not unfrequently happened that the bishop, for good reasons doubtless, but not always acceptable to the incumbent, removed a curé, and hence a strong desire had arisen to limit the bishop's power in this respect. The late archbishop had it in contemplation to erect a tribunal in his diocese, without the judgment of which a curé should not be displaced. The Bishop of Digne had already done this, and likewise given a constitution to his chapter, which also was a thing much desired by the chapters generally.

Saturday, July 22.—The Père de Ravignan received us this morning with the utmost cordiality. We had a full hour's conversation,—not at all polemical, for with that fraternal charity of his polemics never came to one's thought. He seemed to think the future state of France in the highest degree uncertain: that for the Church little was to be hoped from the false liberalism of the day—they would maintain, as long as they could, the state of subjection in which the Church is held. I observed that the Holy See alone was a defence to the bishops in such a state of things; otherwise the National Assembly might take it into its head to meddle with doctrines. It will not do that, he said: Elle se briserait. Yet even the abject poverty of the bishops has turned to good. It is known that they have not the hundredth part of what is wanted for the good of their dioceses—nothing for the petits séminaires, and very little for the grands séminaires; and so they are largely assisted by the charitable. He spoke of the delight it was to him in reading the Fathers to see that it was the very same Catholicism then as now. I asked if he found every thing in them. That, for instance, one of our most eminent theologians and preachers had told me that he had searched throughout St. Augustine for every single mention made of the Blessed Virgin, by means of the Benedictine Index, and had not been able to find one instance of her intercessory power being recognised, nor that any other relation of her to the Church, save an historical relation, was supposed. He replied that it was not St. Augustine's subject to speak of the Blessed Virgin; that he wrote against the heresies of his day, as the other Fathers, against the Pelagians, Donatists, Manicheans: that, however, he mentioned the Blessed Virgin's fêtes, which involved her culte. St. Jerome, however, who was a little earlier, in his work against Jovinian, had treated of that subject. I inquired after M. Alphonse Ratisbonne: he said he had been his confessor shortly after his conversion. The facts of that, and its lasting effects, could not be denied: his sacrifice of his betrothed, his fortune, everything,—his sudden change from an obstinate Jew to a Christian. He was baptized in their Church in Rome, after a retreat of eight days. The Père de Ravignan, at parting, gave us each a copy of his little book, "De l'Existence des Jésuites." I asked if I might come again: he replied, Come ten times,—as often as you like. We were both charmed with the calmness and charity of his manner. He speaks slowly, and seems to weigh every word. Logical force is said to be the great merit of his preaching.

M. des Billiers took us to the Pères Lazaristes, and we had a somewhat long talk with M. le Supérieur Général. He was good enough to give us a sketch of the objects for which his congregation was founded, to this effect:—About two hundred years ago, a lady was desirous to have the poor upon her estates better taught and instructed in the faith than they had been, and proposed for that purpose a certain endowment. But it so happened that no religious society then existing would accept the proposal. Thus S. Vincent de Paul was led to establish his congregation of priests; in the first instance, for the instruction of the poor on this lady's lands: by and by more and more came to him for assistance, and his institution grew by consequence. It came to have four objects in view. First of all, to provide good priests for country parishes: at that time the priests throughout the country in France were very ignorant, and the people, of course, much neglected, and scarcely knowing the first elements of the Faith, for seminaries had not yet been established according to the decree of the Council of Trent. But, secondly, as good priests could not be made without training, S. Vincent de Paul had in view to educate them well in seminaries for the evangelising of the poor; and to this day, the Supérieur said, they were restricted to the care of the poor, and do not preach in cities at all, save in hospitals. Moreover, the third object was, that they might direct in perpetuity the Sisters of Charity; for the special task of these Sisters being to attend the sick, and, if need be, to convert or instruct them, the Saint considered it of the utmost importance that their own spiritual needs should be consulted for by a religious order specially charged with that care, and, consequently, he put both his congregations under one head; and the Supérieur Général of the Pères Lazaristes is likewise Supérieur Général of the Sisters of Charity. The fourth object, which grew out of the former three, was foreign missions; for wherever Sisters of Charity go, the Fathers must go also, working in relation to them, and with regard to the poor. They have now 600 missionaries, chiefly in the East: their labours extend to Syria, Smyrna, Constantinople, China, Brazil, the United States. They have at Constantinople 1200 children in their schools, of various creeds: no attempt at conversion is made in these schools: they are free to accept, or not, the religious instruction; but the Supérieur said, they were generally very glad to accept it. The moment, he said, liberty of conscience is allowed in Turkey, the Turks will be converted in large numbers. They are already strongly inclined to Catholicism: for the Greeks they have a supreme contempt; but they trust and respect the Catholics: in money transactions the Sublime Porte chooses a Catholic agent. I inquired if the orthodox Greek Church (whom he called schismatic) had no missions: he said, it has neither missions nor schools—it is utterly dead—its priests are profoundly ignorant. These people have sinned against the Holy Ghost. He extended this charge of ignorance to the Russian priests. I observed that I had been told by an eye witness that the Church in Russia had the same sort of hold on the mass of the population as it had in the Middle Ages in Europe; but he seemed to think both people and priests densely ignorant. Many converts, he said, are made to Catholicism from the Armenians and other sects; but hardly any from the schismatic Greeks; however, as soon as they are instructed, they will give up their schism. The Pères Lazaristes direct ten séminaires in France; the S. Sulpiciens twenty: the Société de la Rue Picpus two; the Maristes one or two; the rest are directed by diocesan priests chosen by the bishop. As we rose to leave I asked him if the Sœur de Charité were still living to whom the vision of the Blessed Virgin had been granted. He replied that she was. But you have heard, I suppose, the miracle which has happened lately. We said we had not. A young novice, he continued, of the Sœurs de la Charité, on the 30th April last, received, in attending a sick sister, a most violent luxation of the vertebral column. The surgeon considered her case so full of danger that he refused to operate on it without calling in another. The head was turned round and pressed closely on the left shoulder; paralysis had seized on the left side, and the right was beginning to be affected. The surgeon said an operation might be performed, but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred it failed. She had been several days in this state; the Supérieure of the Sisters was asked for a written authorisation to operate on her; she did not like to agree to this, unless the patient herself demanded it. At length they determined on a neuvaine of prayers to S. Vincent de Paul, the feast of the translation of whose relics they were then celebrating. This began on Sunday, the 7th May. After this had begun, the patient expressed the most earnest desire to be carried into the church of S. Vincent de Paul, and to be laid before the shrine containing his relics over the altar. She had the most confident persuasion that she should be cured by his intercession. Her confessor, as he told me, set himself against it as much as he could—he had given over her case, and was going to administer the last sacraments to her on the next day. At her repeated request it was referred to the Supérieur Général, and he gave his consent that she should be carried on a couch to the church between four and five in the morning. The Supérieur said to himself, as he told us, the case is desperate; if she dies on the way it will be no worse than it is now. She was accordingly carried to the church on Tuesday, the 9th of May, and laid before the altar; as the Mass went on, at the Gospel she took her face with both hands and pushed it round from where it had been pressed on the left shoulder beyond its proper place to the right. At the elevation she tried to rise, but to no purpose. She received the Holy Communion with the utmost difficulty, and in the greatest pain; but, before the priest had finished the Mass, she rose of her self from her bed, perfectly cured, and knelt down. She staid in the church while another Mass was said, en action de Graces; and then walked back to the house of the Sisters of Charity in the Rue du Bac (about ten minutes' walk). The Bishop of Carcassonne, who was in the church, about to say Mass at the time, was told by the Supérieur Général what had happened. He said to her, "Doubtless, you prayed fervently?" "No, my Lord," she replied; "I did not pray; I believed." ("Non, Monseigneur, je ne priais pas; je croyais.")

After this account I inquired of the Supérieur Général whether we might be allowed to see and speak with the young person to whom this had happened; "for," I said, "people in England will simply disbelieve it." He consented, and sent for a priest to take us to the house of the Sisters of Charity, with a request to the Supérieure to let us see the novice. This priest was her confessor; and from him we heard a great deal in confirmation of the above account; how hopeless her case had appeared, and how bent she was upon being carried before S. Vincent's shrine, which he had discouraged as much as possible. We also saw the Mère Supérieure, who gave the same information. At length the novice herself was introduced, who told the same tale in a very simple and natural way. She described herself as in such a suffering state that she did not attempt to pray in the church; that she heard a sort of crack in her neck, and thereupon thrust her face round from the left to the right side—so that the sister who was with her put it back just right; but after this she continued in extreme pain and weakness; tried in vain to rise at the elevation; and only a little after receiving the Holy Communion felt suddenly quite well. She had never since felt the least return of her pain. I asked her how the accident had happened. She said she had taken up the sick sister to support her, when, by some mishap, the whole weight of her body fell on her neck. Others told me that her confidence of being healed had been so great, that before she was carried to the church she had said to the sister waiting on her, "You may put my 'couvert' in the refectory for to-morrow, for I shall return on foot." When the surgeon came, after her return, to see her, the sister told him that the patient had no need of his services. "What! she is dead!" he said. "No," replied the sister, "she is cured." "She is cured! How?" He then asked to see her; and was obliged to confess that it was a perfect cure. M. Hervé stutters a little, and his agitation at finding a patient in such a state so unexpectedly cured added to this defect. I was told that he shook her head about in every direction, exclaiming, "C'était cassé! c'était cassé! c'était cassé!" There is accordingly the attestation of the Supérieur Général of the Pères Lazaristes, of the Supérieure of the Sisters of Charity, of the priest confessing the patient, and of the patient herself, for this cure; besides the sisters who spoke of it to us.

We drove in the evening to Notre Dame, St. Gervais, and La Madeleine. The latter was lighted, and many were at private prayer before the Holy Sacrament, or waiting for confession.

Sunday, July 23.—Our own office at home. Part of High Mass in St. Thomas d'Aquin. The churches in Paris have a certain official air. I like them better in the provinces. M. des Billiers took us to the Société de la Rue Picpus, and presented us to its Supérieur, the Archbishop of Chalcedoine (formerly Latin Archbishop of Smyrna). He gave us a sketch of the rise and objects of this society. In 1794 l'Abbé Coudrin, seeing the destruction and desolation of all holy institutions, was inspired with the thought of founding a religious society at once to repair by the perpetual adoration of the Holy Sacrament of the altar, day and night, the disorders, crimes, and profanations of every kind, which were taking place; to bring up youth in the knowledge of the truths of salvation, together with the elements of profane science; to form young Levites, by the study of theology, for the service of the sanctuary; to bring back to God, by preaching, an alienated people; and to evangelise the heathen. L'Abbé Coudrin at this time was in daily danger of his life, and was concealed in a barn. At the end of the year 1794 a pious lady, Madame Aymer de la Chevalerie, just delivered from prison, into which she had been thrown, with her mother, for having concealed a Catholic priest, offered her assistance to l'Abbé Coudrin, to carry out his designs with regard to her own sex. Hence arose les Dames des Sacrés Cœurs de Jésus et de Marie, who devote themselves to the perpetual adoration of the Holy Sacrament, and to the education of young females, and who now count more than twenty establishments in France, and two in Chili, one at Valparaiso, and the other at Santiago. All these establishments are directed by priests of this Congregation.

The Abbé Coudrin gathered by degrees a number of young persons round him, and succeeded in setting his Congregation on foot, which was recognised in 1817 by Pius VII. In the year 1837 he died, having witnessed many establishments of his Congregation in France; the foundation of one at Valparaiso: many of his disciples evangelising the Polynesian islands, and two of his children bishops, M. Bonamie, first Bishop of Babylon, and then Archbishop of Smyrna, and M. Rouchouze, Vicar Apostolic of Eastern Oceania. On his death the former was chosen for the government of the Congregation by its general chapter.

At present the Congregation has, besides twenty-four establishments in France, two houses in Chili, and two in Belgium; one at Louvain, the other at Enghien, for instruction of youth. It has about one hundred missionaries, priests and catechists, in the Sandwich Islands, the Marquesas, Oceania, and elsewhere.

The object of the institution is to retrace the four periods of our Lord's life: His infancy, His hidden life, His evangelical life, and His crucified life.

With respect to our Lord's infancy, gratuitous schools are kept for poor children; and larger schools, to which a certain number of young persons is admitted free of charge, according to the resources of each establishment. Those intended for the Church are here prepared for their sacred functions.

As to our Lord's hidden life, all members of the Congregation are to imitate it by repairing in the perpetual adoration, day and night, of the Most Holy Sacrament, the wrongs done to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and of Mary, by the sins which are committed.

Priests imitate our Lord's evangelic life by the preaching of the Gospel, and by missions.

Lastly, all members of the Congregation should recall, so far as in them lies, our Saviour's crucified life, by practising with zeal and prudence works of Christian mortification, specially in the mastery of their senses.

In 1833 Gregory XVI. entrusted to the Society of Picpus the missions of Eastern Oceania.

There are houses for the novitiate at Issy, near Paris, at Louvain, and at Graves, near Villefranche. It continues not more than eighteen, nor less than twelve months. Here are priests and candidates for the priesthood, preparing themselves to live under the laws of religious obedience, and to devote themselves either to the instruction of youths, or to missions, or to the direction of souls, in the post assigned to them by their obedience; or to deeper studies, which shall enable them to serve the faith according to the talents God has given them.

Young men and adults likewise are received, who, without being called to the ecclesiastical state, wish to consecrate themselves to God for the advancement of His glory, and the assuring of their own salvation by the practice of religious virtues.

Priests besides, and laymen, are received as boarders, who, desirous not to remain in the world, wish to prepare themselves in retirement, and the practice of the virtues of their estate, for their passage from time to eternity.

This society has just applied to the government for permission to send out chaplains with those who shall be transported for their participation in the late revolt. I do not know a higher degree of charity than this; and many other priests have inscribed themselves for this service.

In the chapel we saw one of the brethren continuing the perpetual adoration of the Holy Sacrament.

The archbishop spoke in terms of great contempt of the ignorance of the Greeks; and likewise anticipated a large conversion of the Turks, whenever liberty of conscience is allowed. He had just sent out some missionaries to Oceania.

Both going and returning, we passed the spot at the entrance of the Rue du Faubourg S. Antoine where the late archbishop received his death wound. The house near was severely battered, and in different places along the Rue S. Antoine, and in the Faubourg, were the marks of balls; but altogether the insurrection has left much fewer traces behind than one could have expected.

Returning we looked into the Sainte Chapelle, S. Louis' peerless offering in honour of the Crown of Thorns. It is a perfect gem of the 13th century, and the under chapel is almost as beautiful; but nothing has been done since last year. All round works were going on in the Palais de Justice, though it was Sunday. Indeed, in this respect, the aspect of Paris generally is that of a heathen city.

At four we went to a Benediction at M. l'Abbé Ratisbonne's house, to which he had invited us. His sisterhood of Converted Jewesses sung the Psalms very nicely. Nothing, to my mind, can be more solemn or touching than this ceremony, when the priest takes the ostensoire in his hand, and blesses the people, Benedicat vos Omnipotens Deus, Pater, et Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus. One seems to hear the words of God Himself.

We then adjourned to the parloir, with M. Ratisbonne, Lady ——, and Mr. ——, a Scotch minister. Here we conversed about various matters; magnetism, true and false miracles, &c. They asked about my visit to the Tyrolese Stigmatisées. Lady —— told a story, in one point of which, in spite of its bizarrerie, I found something which strangely takes hold of the mind. We had been talking of that Egyptian witchcraft by which an unknown person is said to be seen in a child's hand. She observed that M. Laborde had purchased this secret, and had been able to do the thing;—having afterwards become a Christian, he abstained from it. Lord ——, it seems, had told her respecting one of the —— family, that he had come back from Italy with the firm persuasion that he should not survive a certain day: the source of this persuasion was, a prophecy made to him by a Venetian sorceress, and to two of his friends, who both died violent deaths at the time specified. Lord —— treated this notion of Mr. —— as an imagination; however, he made him promise that he would visit him on the day he mentioned. After going to England, Mr. —— returned to Paris, and there Lord —— met him again. One day the friends who were with him told him that Mr. —— was ill with a fever, and though he thought himself better, and intended to go to a ball at Lady Granville's, they thought ill of him. In a short time Mr. —— died. A few days after Lord —— had been dining, and the dessert had just been removed, when the door opened, and the figure of Mr.—— walked into the room. Lord —— said, 'What ——, is that you? I thought you were dead.' The figure assented. 'Will you take a chair?' said Lord ——. 'Are you happy?' An expression of indescribable sadness passed over the face, and he shook his head. 'Can I do any thing for you?' said Lord ——. Again he shook his head. 'Why, then, have you appeared to me?' 'Because of my solemn promise,' the figure said. 'Since, then,' replied Lord ——, 'you say I can do nothing for you, I beg one favour of you,—that you would go away, and never return again.' The figure complied, and walked out of the room. I don't think I should have thought this story worth repeating, but for M. Ratisbonne's remarks on it. He said, 'I can well believe this may have happened, for we are surrounded with beings that we know not. A sense is wanting to us, and if but a veil dropped, we might see this room crowded with beings who look on us. Besides, appearances of this kind are continually happening, and I believe it from what occurred to myself.' 'Occurred to you!' I said. 'What do you mean?' 'I had been called in,' he answered, 'once at Strasburgh, to administer extreme unction to a young married lady. I found her in the agony of death, screaming fearfully; her husband was supporting her in his arms on the bed. I administered the last unction to her; and an effect followed which I have often observed: she became calm, and died in the utmost peace. Some days afterwards I was in my room about noon, looking out on the garden. Suddenly I saw her within two steps of me, the same exactly as when living, but with a great brightness all around her. She made a motion to me of inexpressible sweetness and happiness, as if thanking me for a great service, and disappeared. At the first moment I felt a thrill like an electric shock; but this passed. I mentioned this vision afterwards to a friend, and to her husband. I had known but little of her.' I asked if he was quite sure this was not an illusion, but he had no doubt about it. Of the many stories of this kind one has heard this is the first told me by the person to whom it happened.