Tuesday, June 24.—Reached Southampton from Oxford in good time, and left by the packet at 10 P.M. We passed the experimental fleet off Portsmouth, had a very fair passage, and were at the mouth of Havre about ten: but for two hours we could not enter; the swell was considerable. At Havre, took our places to Ivetot, which we reached about half-past-nine. The country rich but uninteresting.

Ivetot, June 26. 1845. Thursday.—We called on M. LabbÉ a little before ten, and were with him till half-past-three. His brother is SupÉrieur of the Petit SÉminaire, in which are 225 youths. The whole payment, on an average, is 360 francs per annum for board and instruction; some paying as little as 200 francs, some as much as 500, but no difference whatever is made between them. The children are evidently on the most affectionate terms with the masters. "There are twelve priests, a deacon and sub-deacon, and three clerks in minor orders."—M.[2] They attend confession once a month, and it is very rare that they fail in this: this is the rule of the house; but should any avoid it much longer, his confessor would not speak to him authoritatively at all, or send for him, but rather take an opportunity of referring incidentally to his absence. This hardly ever fails. "They generally thank him for doing so, the reason being something about which they were unable to get themselves to break the ice."—M. They live entirely with their pupils; sleeping, eating, playing, teaching: in the centre of a large dormitory, with beds on both sides, was a bed, nowise distinguished from the rest save that it had a chair beside it; here the SupÉrieur sleeps. His salary is 1000 francs a year; that of the others about 600. They said, laughing, that it was hardly what a servant in England would receive. The SupÉrieur has a very pleasing and paternal aspect. We heard him catechise the children in the chapel for some time; their answers were good. Several were on the sacraments, and the reply to them definite and precise:—'Which is the most indispensable sacrament?' 'Baptism.' 'How many sorts of baptism are there?' 'The baptism of water, of blood, and of desire.' 'Can any sacrament be administered by other than a priest?' 'Yes, baptism in case of necessity.' 'Can any other?' 'None, Sir.' 'What conditions are necessary to receive the sacrament of Penance?' 'Five.' 'Are there any of those more indispensable than others?' 'Yes, fervent sorrow for sin past, and a resolution not to offend God by sinning any more.' 'If a priest conferred absolution on a person who gave no outward sign of penitence, from his state of sickness, would it benefit him?' 'If he was able to make interior actions of the soul, it would; not otherwise.' ('The Church,' said M. LabbÉ in explanation, 'would prefer bestowing a sacrament often inutilement, to denying it once where it might benefit.') 'Which are the three chief Christian graces?' 'Faith, Hope, and Charity.' 'Which is the most perfect?' 'Charity.' 'Why?' 'Because it presupposes the other two' (I think); and, again, 'because it will last for ever.' 'Will Faith last for ever?' 'Non, Monsieur.' 'Why?' 'Parceque, quand nous verrons Dieu, nous n'aurons pas besoin de le croire.' 'Will you see God?' 'Oui, avec nos propres yeux.' 'You have just received confirmation; what does it make him who receives it?' 'Un parfait ChrÉtien.' 'Etes-vous donc un parfait ChrÉtien?' With hesitation, 'Oui, Monsieur.' 'Etes-vous un ChrÉtien parfait?' 'Non, Monsieur.' 'Quelle est la diffÉrence?' 'Un parfait ChrÉtien est celui qui a tous les moyens pour parvenir au salut—un ChrÉtien parfait est celui qui est sans pÉchÉ' 'En y-a-t'il?' 'Non, Monsieur' (with hesitation). 'Non, mon enfant, il n'y en a pas.'

"The chapel is a pretty and simple building of the early decorated character, designed by PÈre Robert, who was formerly an engineer. The windows and buttresses are in excellent taste; and the ceiling, though of sham stone, is so well done that I doubted whether it were not real, though a look at the buttresses, after seeing the interior, would convince one of the contrary. There is a subterraneous chapel, or rather a crypt which will be one, which I like particularly. PÈre Robert showed us his design for ornamenting the east end of the chapel, which is in excellent taste."—M.

We dined with them at twelve "in the refectory. There was a crucifix at one side, in the middle of the long room; and before it stood the SupÉrieur while we said grace."—M.; and we supped with them at seven, in the midst of 180 boys. Absolute silence was kept, and a youth at a tribune in the middle read first a verse or two of the Gospels, and then some of 'Daniel's History of France.' Nothing could be more simple than their dress; the masters were distributed at intervals down the tables. The school was to educate laymen and ecclesiastics together, and they showed with pride a young man who had become priest out of their house, just twelve years after his first communion. This is generally in the twelfth year, but earlier or later according to the state of the individual. They take their first communion after special confession, and before confirmation; we narrowly escaped seeing this sacrament conferred by the archbishop, who had only left two days before. Confession begins at seven according to rule, but generally before that age in fact.

Study commences always with the hymn beginning "Veni Sancte Spiritus," the collect for Pentecost, and "Ave Maria." One half holiday, Thursday. "Afterwards we walked in their little garden and play ground. It being Thursday, the boys went out to walk with some of the clerks. Some, however, remained about the premises, doing some of the painting, &c. that was required. Much of the work has been done by them. They carried all the bricks and mortar while the chapel was building, &c. &c. They seem to be quite a family."—M.

We talked on many subjects respecting the Churches of Rome and England. In their opinion we are utterly heretical and dead. But M. Pierre LabbÉ, who was chief spokesman, and a very clever talker, admitted, that in case of invincible ignorance, that is, where the person was, with all his endeavours, unable to see that the Church of Rome was the only true Church, (supposing we had the succession, which he more than doubted,) such person might receive the grace of the sacraments. And this he also applied to the Eastern and Russian Churches. He said, if things should ever come to a large, or anything like a national, accession from England to the Roman Catholic faith, the question of Anglican orders must be settled, and the Pope "se gratterait la tÊte" what to do.

The point we remarked in this school was the intimate terms on which the masters appeared to be with the boys; it was not only that their presence during lesson time served to keep order, but that their influence was everywhere at all times. Confession, doubtless, is the root of this. Thus the SupÉrieur at catechism gave, as rewards, small pictures, which each boy receiving kissed him on the cheek. There was the greatest hilarity and cheerfulness, mingled with respect, in presence of the master. We left these good people with great admiration of their zeal, and appreciation of their kindness to us.[3] M. Robert would take us on our way to Caudebec on Friday morning. He conducted us in a cab belonging to the house, for the homeliness of which he apologised. We passed a rich and occasionally diversified corn country to Caudebec, over one of Henri Quatre's battle-fields; there were no signs of it now. I asked him if Louis Philippe had brought about a revolution, or only slipped in to prevent a republic: he replied, "Quand on jette une pierre par la fÉnÊtre, il faut bien qu'elle tombe."

Rouen, June 28. Saturday.—The church of Caudebec is of great beauty, of the 15th century, covered in every part with rich sculpture, especially the western faÇade, which the Calvinists greatly injured. I went over every part of it with the curÉ, and up the tower, which is terminated by a curious flÊche, something like Strasburgh, formed into crowns, marvellously rich. The height about 180 feet. The view from the top is very striking. The great defect of the interior is that the east end has two windows instead of three, or one, at the apse; the nave is very narrow. There was over the jubÉ, now removed, a rood with Adam at the bottom of it receiving the Blood in a cup, representing the fallen humanity restored by our Lord. A north and south aisle without transept. Caudebec is in a very pretty situation, within the cleft of the hills, with the river flowing at its feet; on each side rises the wooded amphitheatre formed by the banks of the Seine: there is a plain on the other side of the river; it might serve for the site of a great city. The church is equal to a small cathedral.

The curÉ has a pleasant presbytÈre to the north; he treated us with the greatest kindness. The government allows 1000 francs yearly to the restoration of the church; so it goes on bit by bit. There is a remarkable pendant in the Lady Chapel, said to be fourteen feet long: the curÉ assured me that he had ascertained it was not supported by anything. There is in the chapel to the south a sepulchre with exceedingly rich canopy, and a gigantic figure of Christ, "by which a woman seemed to be praying with great devotion. I can fancy it a great help to meditation."—M.

We set out in an indifferent cabriolet for Rouen by JumiÊges, and St. Georges de Boscherville; a fine road in parts. JumiÊges is a mournful ruin, the nave with its western towers and the arch to the east standing still; the latter of gigantic proportions, the arch being at least eighty feet high, is grievously cracked, and may fall any day. To the east of this little remains; it has been almost entirely carried away, being the most beautiful part of the church, of early or decorated character. To the south are the walls of an elegant decorated chapel of St. Peter; the ruins are covered with brushwood or trees, the arches daily threatening to fall. The garden has a very fine view of the high banks of the Seine; there is a pleasant wilderness. M. Caumont has made himself a very picturesque residence of the old gateway and adjoining buildings. The western faÇade, with its two towers of equal height and nearly similar form, is very simple but grand. I mounted rather more than 200 steps to the top of the northern: unluckily it had been raining, and there was no sun. It commands the high banks of the Seine for a considerable distance.

St. Georges de Boscherville is indeed a most stately and majestic Norman church, bearing its burden of nearly 800 years as if it had been built yesterday. Its west front, with two stories of three windows, each over a fine recessed door, and turrets of singular beauty and later style, is very imposing. There is a massive central tower with a high spire of Norman, slated, I suppose near 200 feet high. The interior offers all the simple and solemn grandeur of which that style is capable; the one idea is perfectly carried out from top to bottom, as in St. Ouen the Decorated, so here the Norman. I should imagine it to be a perfect model of the style.

We got into Rouen not till after dark Friday night; went to the Hotel de Normandie; not a nice house, dreadfully noisy, being in the street where the two diligences, by the most wondrous evolutions, contrive to worm themselves through the lanes of Rouen into their dens.

Saturday, June 28.—After breakfast M. set off with our letter to the curÉ of the cathedral, to whom M. LabbÉ had recommended us. He was going away in the afternoon, but asked us to dine at twelve; this is one of the few fast days in the year out of Lent, and we only agreed to go on condition that he should change nothing of his usual fare. He gave us potage maigre, fish, omelette. He was going to leave Rouen in the afternoon for a few days, so we left very early; and we much regretted this, for I have heard that he enjoys a very high reputation as confessor and spiritual guide.

"It being a fasting vigil with them, they dine without meat at twelve, and are allowed to take a snack in the evening, not a full meal. He asked questions about the course of studies at Oxford, and whether there was not in England an inclination 'to imitate their ceremonies.' I told him I hoped the tendency was something more than that, &c. &c. We asked him about philosophy in the French Church. He said they used chiefly that of Aristotle, and that one could only find particular branches well worked out. They were much occupied in fighting Cousin. He and his four vicaires have a parish of 15,000 souls to look after. They have also many confessions to receive from other parishes; but for the Easter communion every one is expected to go to his own parish priest, or at least to communicate at his own church. He says Rouen is rather a religious place. I did not ask him the proportion of communicants, for fear I should seem to be inquiring for criticism. He was obliged to leave us soon after dinner, but sent us on to one of his vicaires, who took us to the house of the FrÈres des Ecoles ChrÉtiennes, and introduced us to one of them, who showed us the chapel, dormitory, &c. The founder of the order, the PÈre de la Salle, is buried behind the altar. There are seats for the brethren, and there is a room or gallery looking in at the west end for the boys, who only enter the chapel on Sundays and saints days for the Salut du St. Sacrement. They use this gallery for their morning and evening prayers, which, I believe, are those at the end of the Catechism. The brethren are laymen, but they have two aumoniers who say mass in their chapel twice a day. They have not the breviary services to say, being occupied all day with their schools, but they hear mass, use the rosary, attend the salut, &c. There are thirty-nine brethren, and they have a normal school, i.e. a training school, of forty young men. They do not admit them under seventeen. Their course is about three years. They prepare them for 'l'instruction primaire' of the superior kind, that is, extending to a little history, chemistry, and the like, (and some of them learning also modern languages,) but not comprising Latin or Greek. Twenty-seven of the brethren, however, are occupied in schools about the town, in which, if I understood right, there are as many as 2500 children. We could not see the cabinets of mineralogy, &c. or the chemical laboratory. There were two or three little organs for music lessons. The dormitories had separate cells, with a passage along the line of them. One of the brethren sleeps in each dormitory, and stays up till all are gone to bed, to be sure that good order is kept. They are licensed by the university, and some of the scholars are supported or helped by the government."—M.

Yesterday, June 29. Sunday, St. Peter's day.—We went to high mass in the cathedral at ten, but though we had looked out the service as well as we could, and were just on the outside of the higher gate of the choir, we could not in general follow; only at the Gospel and the Creed we regained our footing. Certainly the words of the service, incomparably beautiful as they are, must be in the main lost. We could not, even by observing the gestures, with the book before us, follow them; the priest's voice is hardly ever heard. A poor woman beside me chaunted through the Nicene Creed in Latin, and at vespers at St. Ouen many female voices were doing the same with the Psalms. The really edifying thing is the devotion of the people, who look upon it as a sacrifice, and do not seem to require that perpetual stimulating of the understanding as among us. For there was no sermon either at the cathedral or St. Ouen, save after the Gospel a very short address, as it seemed, in the nave, but nobody moved from the choir. This service lasted an hour and a half; then we had our own service in private. We next went to the MusÉe d'AntiquitÉs, where there is a small series of stained glass windows, some very good. We had a fine view of Rouen, north of the Boulevard. At 3 o'clock vespers at St. Ouen, chanting of Psalms, followed by the exposition of the H. Sacrament. A good many people, chiefly women. They took part generally. Here again some Psalms we could find in the Paroissien, and others not. This too lasted an hour and a half; the singing was very good, and the organ came in with great effect. The whole tone of this service, as simply devotional and thanksgiving, without instruction or exhortation, struck us much. After this, dinner at five at the table d'hÔte. We have frequent occasion to think with approbation of the Emperor of Russia's edict, "It is forbidden to wear a beard after the manner of ourang outangs, Jews, and Frenchmen." After dinner we walked to the top of St. Catherine's, and enjoyed the beautiful view over Rouen, and also went on to Notre Dame de bon Secours. This is a new church, of the style of the 13th century, of extraordinary purity and grace; the eastern end already finished, and full of stained glass windows. It has ten bays, and three windows in the apse. It quite surpasses any modern church I have seen in beauty. All the vaulting, both of nave and aisles, is in stone or brick. It has many ex-votos,—plain slabs let into the wall: I copied some.

There is a very beautiful tower surmounted by a pretty spire. The church stands on the edge of the hill, near 400 feet above the Seine.

June 30. Monday.—M. and I went over St. Ouen inside and outside to-day. The more I see of this church the more I am struck with its singular grace and beauty, and the mode in which prodigious strength is veiled. Within, it appears of unequalled lightness, while without, the eye may discern the enormous counterbalancing weight of buttress and flying arch, which enabled the architect to rear the centre, pierced as it is with windows, to such a height. The disposition of the whole choir and eastern end internally is especially graceful; for instance, the view sitting behind the high altar facing the Lady Chapel. We attended a low mass in the Lady Chapel. After dinner M. P. LabbÉ unexpectedly came in, and talked a couple of hours. He endeavoured to explain to us the idea with which the Roman Catholics regard the Blessed Virgin, the occasion of which was my reading to him the ex-votos cited above. The communion of saints, as a practical doctrine, has had so little power among us, and assumes so very important a place in Roman theology, that we seem to be unable to understand each other on this point. And thus what is the most natural feeling of his heart to a pious mind in the Roman Communion wears the appearance of idolatry to a pious mind in the Anglican. "We talked with him on the system of particular devotions. He said it was carried to excess by some trying to exalt one practice, another another; but that a good confessor would keep it very much in check, by recommending people not to charge themselves with fresh observances."—M.

Tuesday, July 1.—I assisted at M. LabbÉ's mass in the Lady Chapel of the cathedral, and was able to follow him pretty well; but almost the whole Canon is pronounced secretly. At present, certainly, I cannot help regretting that one cannot hear and follow words so very grand and touching. He breakfasted with us, and then took us to boys' and girls' schools in the old aitre (atrium) of S.Maclou, "round which was a cloister ornamented with figures of the Dance of Death. The rooms round it are now used for schools for the poor of S.Maclou. One of the FrÈres des Ecoles ChrÉtiennes showed us his class, who answered M. LabbÉ pretty well on the catechism. One of them then wrote on a black board at his dictation: 'J'espÈre, mes chÈrs enfans, que vous vous montrerez, toute la vie, dignes des soins que les bons frÈres ont pris de vous;' which sentence they were made to discuss grammatically. Some of them were puzzled by the place held in the sentence by 'toute la vie,' and it was some time before they made out that it was governed by 'pendant' understood, and held the place of an adverb. They showed us some maps they had drawn, which were neat enough. Their manner to their teacher was very pleasing. We then went on to the girls' school, which is very numerous, and kept in the same set of buildings, chiefly up-stairs, by some rÉligieuses who are not of any regularly established congregation, but are under a vow, and are recognised and encouraged by the Church. Some of them were at work, others reading. We could not judge of them further than that they seemed to be in good order, and that it was pleasant to see them taken care of by persons devoted to the work simply for charity. We went on, through some narrow and dirty streets, to the HÔpital GÉnÉral, where they take in all manner of sick people. It is a government institution, but is under the care of certain sisters, who are devoted to that work. I believe they have not any very strict rule besides. We saw the SupÉrieure, and a good many of the others; and the sick people seemed to be kept very clean and comfortable. There is an altar in each infirmary ward, but they have not the little marks of religion at each bed's head, which one would find if the thing were wholly in the hands of the Church."—M. He then took us to a convent of Benedictine Ladies de l'Adoration du S.Sacrament. The peculiarity of their rule is, that day and night there is always some one in adoration of the Holy Sacrament. Their night office is from half-past one to three. They eat maigre all the year. "They have only two hours in the day when they are allowed to speak, except upon matters of strict necessity."—M. The SupÉrieure spoke with us from behind a double grating, which was besides veiled; at M. LabbÉ's request she withdrew the veil, that we might see her costume; but her face was entirely covered, though doubtless she could see us, herself unseen. The whole dress was black. "She spoke very quietly and simply. The congregation was instituted after a time when many altars had been profaned, to make a kind of reparation for the insults that had been committed against our Lord through His blessed sacrament."—M. In the schools and the infirmary, I was struck by the prodigious advantage of their being entrusted to professed religious persons. In the evening we went round the cathedral: it is in every respect inside inferior to S.Ouen, and not particularly graceful; but outside its northern and southern fronts are not to be surpassed for beauty and elegance of design, while its western one will be of great grandeur and exceeding richness when completed; walked once more round S.Ouen with fresh admiration.

Wednesday, July 2.—At twelve we started by railway for Paris; stopped at Mantes four hours: went over Notre Dame; much delighted as in 1843. The west front up to the gallery one of the most elegant I know. They are building the last stage of the northern tower. Reached Paris at 8 o'clock: got a "modeste appartement" at the HÔtel d'Espagne.

Thursday, July 3.—We called on Miss Young at l'Abbaye aux Bois, and sat talking some time. She gave us an introduction to a soeur de la charitÉ, by whom we were partly taken and partly shown over their large establishment in the Rue du Bac. The chapel is neat, and has a series of nice pictures: this is pointed out as the place where the Blessed Virgin appeared to one of the sisters or a novice; her image at the appearance is represented on the miraculous medal: it was before the picture over the altar on the right hand. The name of the sister is kept secret, and will be so till she is dead; but the other circumstances have been disclosed by the priest who received her confession, M. Aladel, one of the PÈres Lazaristes, who direct the Sisters of S.Vincent de Paul. They have 300 sisters, who are dispersed hence all over France, and continually replenished; they are erecting a very handsome building, which will accommodate 300 novices. The vows are not perpetual, but for terms of years; but it is rare that any who have once taken them fail to renew them. Went to Toulouse—curious bookshop; he has sometimes 100,000 volumes in his possession. M. found Justinianus there. Notre Dame outside struck me very much; its west front only wants lofty spires on its towers to be perfect. The interior, with all its spaciousness, is deficient in grace, and after S.Ouen we felt quite discontented with it. S.Germain des PrÈs is a fine church, especially the choir and apse—Norman work. In the evening we saw M. Bonnetty, and had some talk with him. We were running about nine hours to-day.

Friday, July 4.—Went to breakfast with Miss Young, and had a long talk with l'AbbÉ Carron, formerly secretary to the archbishop. He was very polite and cordial, and offered us every thing in his power. From him we obtained an account of the day's occupations in the SÉminaire de S.Sulpice, which I took down from his mouth as follows, incorporating with it some further information given me by M. Galais, professor of canon law therein:—

Special Lectures.

OBSERVATIONS.

There is much sickness: (the building has not gardens or sufficient space for recreation attached to it).

Not time enough for study.

The vacation is from Aug. 15. to Oct. 1.

The cassock is always worn.

They confess themselves every week, ordinarily in the morning during the meditation. They choose their own confessor among the masters, who are at present twelve, but the number is not fixed. As to communicating, they are free; but are exhorted to do it often. Often is all the Sundays and festivals. Some communicate besides two, three, four, five, times a week, especially as the time of their ordination draws near. The priests every day. After the communion twenty minutes "action de grÂces." On entering the seminary a general confession of the whole past life is made. At the commencement of each year, after the vacation, in October, a confession of the year is made. At the beginning of each month there is a retreat for one day, ordinarily the first Sunday. Direction is twice a month. It is intercourse between each young man and his director for the purpose of making known his inward state. There is a general retreat after the vacation for eight days; in this no visits allowed; no letters received; no going out into the city. There are recreations, but the rest of the day is consecrated to prayer, to confession, and to sermons. Each has his own rule (rÈglement particulier), which he draws up in concert with his confessor.

The day, the hour, and the mode of using the following exercises, to be determined on with the director.

What has been determined on by the director, relatively to the preceding exercises, is to be written in the "rÈglement particulier" of each.

The main resolution necessary to insure the fruits of the seminary is fidelity to the "rÈglement," and especially to silence at the prescribed times, and to the holy employment of one's time.

The virtues to be studied are, collectedness, the thought of the presence of God, modesty and good example, charity and humility, religion and fervour in the exercises of piety.

The order of exercises for a day in the annual retreat is as follows:—

The following means are recommended for profiting by the "retreat."

There are, moreover, retreats for eight days before each ordination. Exposition of the pontifical is given. Before the ordination of any individual is decided on, there are two "appels" to be gone through; 1st, that of outward conduct; 2d, that of inward conduct, decided by all the masters in common. If these are passed there is a third examination of himself and his fitness for the ministry to be gone through by the pupil in private. Fourthly, if he is thoroughly persuaded of his vocation, his confessor finally decides whether he shall be accepted for the ministry or rejected. The ordinary payment made by each pupil is 700 francs a year, but this, in case of necessity, or of promising persons, especially when recommended by bishops, is reduced to 400.

In Lent one meal and one collation (a half meal) are allowed: the first at mid-day. Meat is permitted on Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, by the archbishop's "mandement." Fridays and Saturdays are maigre days through the year, but not fasts. The other fasts of the year are very few, the greater number having been abolished by the Concordat. They are Christmas Eve, Whitsun Eve, St. Peter's Eve, the vigils of the Assumption and All Saints.

M. Gaduel told me that the good professors of S.Sulpice receive no salary whatever. They live, he said, as children in a father's house, provided with everything they want, but they are not given money. If one has need of a coat, he asks for it, and has it. Should they be taken ill, and be unable to continue their functions, they will be supported and tenderly provided for all their days. They take no vows, and can leave when they please; and they retain whatever private property they may possess. Those who have none receive 100 francs a year for their charities; for you know, he said, they cannot go into the city without a sou. Thus their life is entirely detached from the cares of this world, from the desire of wealth, and all that attaches to it. Yet is it, from its sedentariness and severely abstract pursuits, as well as from the continued pressure on the heart and conscience, a trying life. Health, I imagine, is only maintained by the weekly relaxation of Wednesday, and the annual vacation of two months in August and September.

We talked on many other subjects with M. l'AbbÉ Carron. He was very desirous to explain the honour paid to the Blessed Virgin Mary. One and all reject with horror anything like adoration being offered to her, or that she is anything more than the most favoured channel of grace.

At two we went to M. Bonnetty, who took us to the house of the Benedictines, then in Rue Notre Dame des Champs, where we saw the AbbÉ GuÉranger, a very pleasing person. Talked of editions of the Fathers, the labours of the Benedictines, the movement in England. He struck me as very mild and charitable. In the library M. de Montalembert was sitting writing. We did not know who it was at the time.

On the opposite side of the street, through a private door, we entered into a most beautiful little chapel just erected in the style of the thirteenth century. It belongs to some religious garde-malades, connected with the sisters of charity, who were saying their office as we came in. The architecture is exceedingly rich: all the windows of painted glass. I have never seen anything so exquisite as this chapel. The apse was richly painted and decorated. Afterwards we set off for S.Denis, but gave it up. Looked into S.Eustache, an imposing church of the renaissance, very lofty and spacious. Also S.Germain l'Auxerrois, which is interesting. It has been restored since the riots, and is being filled with painted glass.

Saturday, July 5.—Set off for S.Denis: the abbey has been wonderfully restored since I was there, and is now exceedingly imposing and interesting. The aisles round the choir have been most richly painted and decorated, the central roof not yet. All the windows are of stained glass, forming a complete sketch of French history, wherein Dagobert and S.Louis, Napoleon, Louis XVIII. and Louis Philippe, strangely figure. The tombs of FranÇois I. and Louis XII. are very beautiful. The western front resembles Mantes in character; very beautiful; pinnacles of the spire curious and most pleasing. We went to drink tea with Miss Young, her mother, a French lady, and an Irish priest, M. Macarthy, who assists at S.Sulpice. He said the seats there were let to a woman for 35,500 francs per annum. The chief duty of a Catholic is not to go to mass, but to confess and receive absolution. Before marriage every one is compelled to confess, but they do not necessarily receive absolution. This priest's conversation gave one a notion that to common minds the confessional would often be as it were wiping off an old debt, and beginning a new score. "He said there were about 14,000 or 15,000 communicants at Easter in that parish out of a population of 50,000. He seemed to think many might be people who would fall back again into grievous faults, but nearly all at the time had good intentions. I rather thought he made too little a matter of the probability of many falling back: but I may have been mistaken. He said, however, that S.Sulpice was not a measure of Paris, being the most pious parish in the city. He said also, that there was very little temptation to hypocrisy, religion being rather at a discount in public opinion. I should hope from this and other accounts, that there was a very considerable leaven of true piety in this place, bad as it is."—M.

Sunday, July 6.—The heat excessive. We went to Bishop Luscombe's chapel: many staid to the Holy Communion. "There was a discontented French priest there, who, I fear, is going to set up for himself. I had a little talk with the Bishop between services. He has, if I am not mistaken, a totally false view of the position of the French Church. He thinks it is falling to pieces, as a man might think Oriel was coming down, if he did not know there was a live Provost and Fellows inside to repair it when necessary. The discontented go to him and tell him their tale, as the college weapons might fall on the head of any one in quad; and of course they do their best to make him think that all is as rotten as they are. The Roman Catholic clergy, I believe, do not know much of him, or he of them, and he is shut out from the sight of what is best among them."—M.

At five dined with M. Bonnetty. We found there two priests, one of whom, M. D'Alzon, was going to preach at Notre Dame des Victoires that evening for the archiconfrÈrie du sacrÉ Coeur de Marie. He seemed an able man, was vicaire general of Nismes, a person of property, who was bent on taking orders. He could not understand how we could preach with a book before us; said no one would listen in France. The other priest, M. Jacquemet, was a very pleasing modest person. We adjourned to the garden of the missions ÉtrangÈres; met there M. Drach, who had been chief rabbin. He has written a book on the harmony of the Synagogue and the Church; seemed to think he could settle the difficulty concerning the day of the Passover by Jewish traditions.

M. Bonnetty took us to Mrs. Ryon's in the Place belle Chasse. The heat excessive.

Monday, July 7.—We called on M. Defresne; much struck by his conversation. He said all that was best in religion was at Paris: out of a million of inhabitants there were 300,000 going to mass, and 50,000 practising Christians; this was the kernel of religion in the country, the pure gold. He justified the shops being left open by the government on Sunday, for the people generally being without belief, it would be an act of sheer tyranny to shut them. Louis Philippe was now employing against the Jesuits the same arbitrary power he had used to expel l'AbbÉ ChÂtel. On religious matters he did not seem to understand how an instructed person could remain with good faith out of the Roman Church. The Puseyites, he seemed to think, did not belong to the Establishment. M. Defresne speaks with remarkable energy; we both wished to have another talk with him. Thence we went to the PÈres Lazaristes; M. Aladel received us, gave us the rules of the sisters of charity. Their chief work being the relief of the sick, &c. they have no office, properly so called, and their hours are subject to variation. They rise, winter and summer, at 4 to 4½; 4½ to 5½ meditation, prayer, a subject for meditation given the evening before; 5½ hear mass—this is the ordinary time, but it varies: for instance, they would attend the church in their immediate neighbourhood at whatever hour it might be. Every day spiritual reading,—the Chaplet: it lasts a long half hour; has many special prayers added by their founder, which cannot be seen. In the evening a second meditation for half an hour, always before six o'clock. Vocal prayers before bed time, at half-past eight. Subject of meditation given. These exercises of piety are never given up, as in cases of extreme sickness the sister attending waits till the others have done, and is then relieved by them. They do not go out after nightfall. Dinner at half-past eleven. Supper at six. Their duties are, 1.visiting the sick; 2.attending hospitals; 3.dressing the sick at their own house; 4.keeping schools at their own house. Each school belongs to a sister, who is generally the same; one takes care of the linen, another of the kitchen, and so on. M. Aladel then attacked us on matters of controversy; could not conceive persons of intelligence and good faith remaining out of the pale of the Roman Church. Indeed, this is universally the first thing with them—to be in communion with Rome. Without unity they can conceive no holiness, nor self-devotion, nor even sincerity. We said we admitted the primacy of Rome, but not an absolute power; and referred back to the times of the early Patriarchs, as St.Athanasius. His reply was, that the Pope allowed them to institute their own Bishops, and where this permission was not openly expressed it was implied; a mode of assumption which soon puts an end to all difficulties. The Greeks and Russians were schismatics, but far nearer than we. To him, as to every other Roman Catholic with whom we conversed, the English Church is simply a mass of heresy and schism. We regretted the controversial language of this conversation. Called on M. LabbÉ, and had a friendly talk with him. He describes the actual state of the Colleges of the University as horrible in point of morality. He is now, at forty-five, sitting down to the study of Greek, to pass his degree of M.A. at the University, in order that he may be privileged to teach under it. At Lady Elgin's in the evening, whither M. Bonnetty conducted us, we found a lively party in the garden. The chief conversation was on magnetising, there being a young man of great powers that way present, but he declined giving us any specimen of his power: he said it took too much out of him, and sometimes bestowed on him the maladies he relieved others from. Thus, he succeeded in transferring a lady's headache to himself. The heat very great to-day.

Tuesday, July 8.—We called on M. ThÉodore Ratisbonne, a man of about forty-two, with striking Jewish physiognomy, gentle and pleasing in manner. I was very much struck with his conversation. We said we came to learn as much as we could of Catholic institutions. 'As for Protestantism,' said he, 'I believe it has produced good fathers of families, good morals, kindly social feelings, and so on; but as for perfect devotion of the heart to God, it seems to me quite barren. But the soul should not walk, she should fly.' On the worship of the Blessed Virgin, so called, he said, 'Place yourself in the presence of Jesus Christ, for He is ever present, He is always the same. You would see beside Him the Blessed Virgin and the Apostles. You would throw yourself at his feet; but having done so, would you have no thought for His mother? Would you turn your back upon her? Would that be a way of gaining His favour? Or, place yourself at the foot of the Cross, remember His last words, and how can any Christian have other than filial feelings towards her? But there is not a child of the poorest Catholic peasant who would for an instant confound the reverence paid to the mother of his Lord with the worship due only to God. C'est une horreur. Elle est une simple crÉature, une fille d'Adam, notre soeur; mais elle a rÉÇu la grace d'Être mÈre de Dieu. Moi, je baise un tableau de ma mÈre, de mes soeurs, de mes amis; et je ne baiserais pas celui de la Sainte Vierge? Je flÉchis le genou devant les rois de la terre; je ne le flÉchirais pas devant elle?' He took up a book by a Protestant minister, I think of Geneva, and read to us with great indignation the account he had made up of a Roman priest's sermon on the Blessed Virgin—the adoring her, and so on. He said the Protestant remarks on that subject were full of bad faith, and were in the highest degree shocking to Catholics. I asked him about his brother's conversion: he said, over and above the printed account which I had seen, 'My brother, two hours after his conversion, was seen by Cardinal Mezzofanti, who was ready to throw himself on his knees in adoration to God. Nothing was known of my brother at Rome, and at first great apprehensions were entertained as to what his character might turn out to be. He had never read two pages of the Bible, never received any religious instruction whatever, was altogether of a light and superficial character. The Blessed Virgin appeared to him as close as I am to you; she made a motion to him that he should remain quiet under the divine influence. On rising out of his ecstacy he had received intuitively the knowledge of the Christian faith. He came and lived three months with me; I never talked with him as to what he should do; I carefully abstained from exercising any influence over him. I had, indeed, great apprehensions of him, as to what his future life would be. At the end of that time I said to him, I am going to offer mass for you, to know what your future vocation will be. He replied, without the slightest hesitation or emotion, I am in no doubt about that. Two courses are open to me: one is to become a priest and live here with you; we should be two brothers together,—that would be, indeed, a delightful life: the other is to enter the Company of Jesus. I do not know what that is, but I shall become a Jesuit. I was very much astonished. As tu bien rÉflechi, je lui dis?—Je n'y ai pas rÉflechi, mais la S.Vierge me l'a dit.—Alors je me tus, je ne dis plus une parole. He knew so little what the Jesuits were; he had so great an apprehension what would happen to him, that when he left me he agreed that, if he was unhappy, he would put a certain mark in his letter for me to come and see him. I went after a time to see him: I found him engaged in cleaning the dirtiest parts of the house. They had put him on the severest trials to test his resolution; he surmounted them all, and now, since he has been three years among them, he has never had even l'ombre de peine. I believe that he has more than once received a repetition of the grace he had at Rome, but I have never asked him on the subject. His vocation has been marked out by the Blessed Virgin for the conversion of the Jews. My uncle is worth from six to seven millions of francs: he has disinherited my brother, who has renounced every thing. He built a small church near here: before going into the order of the Jesuits he distributed all his property to the poor, as is their custom; previous to his conversion he had never had vision or anything of the kind.'

M. Ratisbonne, seeing we were greatly interested in all he said, warmed in his manner, and before parting he gave each of us a small book; mine is a Catechism. I told him how much I had liked his life of S.Bernard. 'Ah,' he said, 'you have had the patience to read that.' I begged him to allow me to call on him again before leaving. We then went to Miss Young's, where I wrote down as much as I could remember of our conversation, which had greatly moved me. Thence M. Carron took us to several booksellers; we also called on M. Galais at the SÉminaire S.Sulpice, and delivered our letter; as he had a class shortly after, we proposed coming again on Thursday. We then adjourned to the church a short time, to various libraries, and did not get home till late.

Wednesday, July 9.—Called on M. Martin Noirlieu, CurÉ of St. Jacques; we found him very affable, and desirous to oblige. Talked about the state of things in England, and said we were most desirous to see things as they were, and to get rid of all prejudice. I said the culte of the Blessed Virgin was that which stood most in our way; and remarked, how in their litanies to her, after a simple address to the different persons of the Holy Trinity, there followed a reiterated invocation of her under many various titles, throwing, as it were, into the shade the Godhead. He excused this, because in those litanies her intercession was especially requested, and spoke of other litanies to Jesus, &c. He also said the Church was in no way committed to those popular devotions of the ArchiconfrÈrie, &c. He, for example, had had nothing to do with them at all; but lately he had had occasion to preach severely against the idea of any virtue being supposed to reside in images themselves. He strongly recommended Bossuet's Exposition, as being a faithful account of the Church's doctrines. There was strict unity as to dogma, but within that limit there were a vast number of things which might or might not be true. He has been curÉ since 1836; about 300 communicants every Sunday in his parish, which has 15,000 people. Among them are many Jansenists. At Easter rather less than half the people communicate; he excused there not being more by their having severe notions on the subject. Spoke favourably of his people. Walked with us to S.Etienne; a strange mixture of Gothic and Renaissance, with some fine features; the tomb of S.GeneviÈve, which he said was of the fourth century. Thence to S.Gervais, a fine church of the latest Gothic, the Lady Chapel of which has been most beautifully restored and decorated; there are five painted windows, and four very interesting frescoes by Delorme, of incidents in her life. The whole church is to be done after the same manner. The government, too, are going to spend 80,000l. in thoroughly restoring Notre Dame: all the windows are to be of painted glass. There is a curious pendent crown, wrought in stone, in the roof of this chapel. M. Noirlieu invited us to be at a "confÉrence," which he would hold with some of his parishioners on Saturday, who assisted him in the instruction of the poor. He left us, and we went to see la Sainte Chapelle, but were disappointed, as a ticket from the architect is necessary. Here, too, scaffolding is up, and restoration in full progress. We then mounted the towers of Notre Dame, and enjoyed for some time that noble view of the stateliest of modern cities. I never felt more admiration of this magnificent city than on this visit: one is ever painfully contrasting the meanness of our public buildings, and the wretched appearance of our brick houses in London, with the noble quais and palaces of Paris. These towers themselves are of wonderful solidity, and evidently built for spires; in truth, they ought to be double their present height. Here is, however, a great want of towers and spires in this view, such as there must once have been at Paris. We took a peep also at the great bell,—an immense creature. At five o'clock we went to dine with Bishop Luscombe: found him in his picture gallery, which he took great delight in showing us. We met here a Mr. Parkes, an American clergyman, who was elected Bishop of Alabama two years ago, but declined on the score of health. He is an interesting person. I had a long conversation with him on the state of the Church in England, America, and France. He, too, has a strong notion of Roman corruption, but is quite ignorant of their practice and services, having never read even the Mass. I endeavoured to persuade him, on the ground of the Church's decided voice, that the validity of baptism did not depend on the administrator; but he seemed to think there was equal authority for the doctrine of Transubstantiation. I said, as to that there were really only two Ideas on the doctrine of the Holy Eucharist: the one was a real true objective presence of our Lord's Body and Blood; and the other no presence at all, but an impression produced by faith on the individual,—a commemoration, or what not. If we agreed, as we did, with the Church of Rome in the former view, it was better not to fight about the mode in which she has stated it, her real intent being to force a shuffling and evasive party to accept or reject the truth distinctly. The Church of England, rejecting the Roman definition, has not herself fenced the truth on the Protestant side, which may make us more forbearing as to condemning the Roman mode of statement, being, as we are, entirely of accord with her as to the real truth, which lies at the bottom of the controversy—the Christian's highest and inconceivable blessing. He thought that high and low in the Church of England could not long go on together, and heartily wished we might get rid of state interference and control at any cost. 'Meet in convocation,' said he, 'and if you are turned out of doors, adjourn to the street; suffer anything and everything, but do not let the state control you.' We walked home with Mr. Parkes: he seems a most sincere and candid person.

Thursday, July 10.—M. Galais took us over the SÉminaire de S.Sulpice. There is nothing remarkable in the building. The pupils are rather more than 200: their appearance is very devout; they seem of low rank in life generally, and this is no doubt the case, but with exceptions; for instance, we heard today of the son of M. SÉgur, who is there. Each pupil has a small room to himself, which opens on the corridor; it has a bed, table, little stove, and hardly anything more, with a crucifix and little statue of the Blessed Virgin, belonging to the house. They make their own beds: they are not allowed to enter each other's rooms at all, but, if they wish to speak to one another, the stranger stands in the passage, and the occupant at his door. The whole is under the inspection of the archbishop, who has a chamber here, but does not often come. There are twelve masters. The state of instruction as regards the Church is as follows in France generally. In each diocese there is one or more petits sÉminaires, which are for children, not only such as are to be ecclesiastics, but laymen also. These are the only schools in which morals and religion are made a primary consideration; and, therefore, though they have nothing to do with the university, and are excluded from all privileges, they are sought after by the sounder part of the community. To these succeeds, for ecclesiastics alone, the grand sÉminaire for each diocese; this of S.Sulpice is the most eminent in France. The studies are for five years; two in philosophy, three in theology. They are thus arranged, as we took them down from the lips of M. Galais.

Sometimes, perhaps in half the dioceses of France, these two years of philosophy are contracted to one. The three years of theology are thus arranged:—

A course of Holy Scripture twice a-week, exclusive of private study of it.

Authors used:—

These three years of theology are sometimes expanded to four.

For the dogma of the Roman Church, M. Galais said, the canons of the Council of Trent, with the acts of the councils generally, were the only authentic or symbolic sources; next to this comes catechismus ad parochos. Bossuet's Exposition is regarded as quite a standard book; likewise MoËhler's Symbolism. He recommended strongly, for the interior life, "Louis de Grenada," "Rodriguez," "S.FranÇois de Sales;" spoke highly of Olier's life. We were greatly pleased with M. Galais' courtesy. He took us also over the library, which is very good indeed; beginning with a complete collection of the Fathers, through the schoolmen, down to modern times: it was arranged chronologically. "He pointed out to us 'Tronson's Forma Cleri' as giving the best idea of their whole discipline."—M. At M. Bonnetty's we found M. l'AbbÉ d'Alzon, who kindly took us to the convent of the Dames de l'Assomption, Rue des Postes. In passing, we looked into the chapel of the Jesuits, in their house at Paris, which has made such a noise. They are about 20 here, and in all France 210: and these few, but picked and valiant men, fill with dread the hosts of the freethinkers and infidels in France; they know not how to meet them but with persecution. We were greatly interested indeed with the Dames de l'Assomption. We saw the SupÉrieure and a sister, which latter was English. We had a long conversation, in which she explained the object of their society, lately founded—to communicate a Christian education to the children of the higher ranks, especially of the aristocratie de l'argent, who of all ranks in France are most alienated from religion. The SupÉrieure spoke with much feeling and intelligence, and with that beauty and distinctness of expression which makes the French language so pleasing in a female mouth. She said they had been much struck, in their experience, with the mass of knowledge and accomplishments which existed out of the Church and the sphere of her influence, or rather in antagonism to her. Beside the usual vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience, they took a fourth—to extend the kingdom of the Saviour to the utmost of their power; and the best means to do this, they thought, was to lay hold of the education of the higher ranks, and impress on it a religious character. 'This could only be done,' she said, 'by a religious congregation; for how can those who live in the world, and seek after its prizes, form their pupils to the contempt of the world? How can those who work for riches themselves teach others to live above them? How, especially, can the children of the rich be strongly impressed with Christian truth save by those who themselves bear the cross?' 'Religious orders,' she said, 'are like branches which, one after the other, spring out of a tree; the trunk itself lasts on, but the branches, it may be, after a time drop off, and give place to others. We do not desire that our order should last when it ceases to be useful, and therefore we have strictly provided that it should possess no funds after the acquisition of the house and garden, which is necessary for our existence: all that we allow is, that any sister may have a pension for life—but this is not necessary; if we find any one of suitable disposition and acquirements, we should be happy to admit her without any. Besides this we receive payments from our pupils: we think it more Christian to work for our living; nor would our pupils be in a comfortable position if they did not pay us.' These sisters recite all the offices of the Breviary in Latin, but not during the night, but anticipating them: they rise at five, go to bed at ten; they attend Mass daily, and have an hour of meditation every morning, and half-an-hour in the evening. 'But,' said M. D'Alzon, 'you know that, wherever there are religious orders, there must be one secret source of strength—intimate union with the Saviour.' 'You mean,' I said, 'that which springs from the Real Presence.' They all agreed; and the SupÉrieure continued—'We could never sustain this life, were it not for the thought that we were spouses of Christ—that is the one thought which is the centre of our life.' I said, 'I am sure there are thousands of young persons in England who would enter into religious orders if we had them.' She agreed, and said, 'they must not be purely active, but largely contemplative; there was something pensive and melancholy in the English female character, which shrunk back from a purely active life such as that of the Sisters of Charity.' They were astonished and much gratified when I read to them the Absolution in the Service of the Sick, which pronounces absolution, by virtue of the priestly office, categorically, not declaratively: they agreed that it was perfectly Catholic. The demeanour of these ladies—the four that I saw—struck me exceedingly: it was gentle, perfectly that of ladies, yet intellectual: like that of those who felt they had a noble mission, and had courage to execute it. Their dress also is very becoming—a dark robe with a white hood, and white cross on the centre of the breast. All their servants take the same vows, eat at the same table; the only difference being, that they are less intelligent and accomplished.

In the evening we went for a short time into the gardens of the Tuileries; I had never before seen the orange trees out there, and the gay and cheerful spirit of the scene struck me, so much more brilliant than the aspect of our parks.

Friday, July 11.—M. was poorly with a headache, so I went alone to M. Galais at the SÉminaire, who sent a young priest with me to M. Poileau's school, about a mile to the south-west of Paris. There are more than 300 pupils there; it is the largest establishment of the kind not in connection with the university. I saw the chapel, which was very neatly arranged, and the infirmerie, in which was a priest; there were several beds ranged in alcoves on each side, and some sick boys in them; a relation had come to see one, and one who seemed by her dress to be a sister of charity, another. The boys sleep in dormitories, ranged much in the same manner; it so happened that the head of the establishment and the next person to him were both away, and the rooms being locked we did not go into them. We saw a class preparing for their first communion. The rule of the house is that they confess constantly, but communion is left open. The boys pay 40l. a year each, and the masters receive the same sum, besides board and lodging. The house was encompassed with gardens, and an exercising ground, with poles, &c. for the boys; their ages run from 7 to 18 or 19: sometimes the conscription finds them there. My conductor had been drawn for the conscription, and had to pay 1800 francs for a remplaÇant. He said about forty were drawn yearly on a city of 7000 or 8000; he was the eighty-first or so, but there were so many of those who drew before him incapacitated from one cause or other, that he and several beyond him came into the forty eligible. On returning I went to M. Galais again, as he had invited me, and he talked to me near two hours and a half. I thought him very well instructed and clear-headed; he gave me a sketch of the disputes of the Thomists and Molinists on Grace; and the system of Suarez on the subject, the science absolue, science moyenne, and science probable of God. The Church holds the two extreme points; on the one hand the absolute necessity of the grace of God anticipating, as well as capacitating, every human movement, on the other hand, the free concurrence of the human will, but she does not attempt to define, as matter of faith, the mode of their coexistence. He seemed to think Suarez, next to St. Thomas, was the greatest of theological minds. Once, in a dispute with a Dominican, the latter produced a sentence of St. Augustine which told strongly against Suarez; he kept silence, but when his turn came to reply, he said, 'That sentence is not in St. Augustine;' the other repeated that it was. 'It is not,' returned Suarez; 'I know St.Augustine by heart, and that sentence does not occur in his writings.' They searched, but were unable to find it anywhere. That evening his conscience smote Suarez for having said publicly, though with truth, that he knew St. Augustine by heart, and he confessed himself on account of it. On the subject of the Holy Eucharist, I inquired whether the Church would require more than that after the words of consecration the Body and Blood of our Lord were really and truly present, independent of the faith of the individual: he said, 'Yes; she would require a belief that the bread was destroyed, (dÉtruit,) that its substance was changed, and its appearance, or accidents, only remained, to meet our senses. There were many opinions how this took place, but none of them were de fide, provided the thing was believed.' M. Galais gave me much more information respecting the seminary, which I put opposite the former remarks thereon. It seems to me that no greater care can be taken to form the inward mind to the duties of the sacerdotal office, and to exclude all who have not a genuine vocation. Nothing can exceed the kindness of M. Galais in giving information. In the evening we went to St. Severin, to hear M. D'Alzon preach: we lost our way, and were late, and so at too great a distance to hear him well. He spoke on the Real Presence, the junction of the Divinity with the Humanity, and the blessings thence flowing forth, rather with passion and feeling than with deep reflection. His incessant action contrasts strongly with our quiet manner. I can well imagine that reading his sermon would be quite insupportable to him, as well as to the people. At the same time such sermons as Newman's would be lost on them. I cannot but think that speaking from the pulpit without book ought to form part of our education.

Saturday, July 12.—M. D'Alzon took us over M. l'AbbÉ Migne's great printing establishment. It contains 175 workmen, and everything is done therein; binding, stereotyping, as well as printing, and selling besides. He produces a very large octavo volume in double columns, Latin for five francs, and Greek and Latin for eight francs: the former he is about to raise to six francs. His patrology is to contain 200 such volumes of Latin authors, and 100 of Greek: 46 are come out. The cheapness is wonderful, and necessary for the small incomes of those who would chiefly want such books, and the execution fair. M. Migne is a priest, and acts not from a desire to gain, but to assist the clergy. However, the Archbishop has forbidden him to say Mass at present.

We looked into the Louvre for an hour to-day, and enjoyed the glimpse of the pictures: the first time we have so indulged ourselves.

In the evening went to M. Noirlieu, who introduced us into a confÉrence de S.Vincent de Paul. About 40 young men present, of the rank and age of students, who meet weekly; they each take about a couple of families to visit and assist. This sort of thing exists in 33 parishes in Paris. Here there are about 50 members, in S.Sulpice 120. It is a visiting society, but under better rule than ours; and it was pleasing to see, as being formed out of exactly that part of society which is generally most alienated from such works. They gave us a copy of their rules. "The abbÉ himself had less to do with it than I had expected, but I believe he has an instruction in his church on Sunday evening, especially for the workmen whose families are thus visited. They conclude the meeting with short prayers, in which, by the bye, there occurs an invocation of the Blessed Virgin, which all repeat aloud, and which I did not like to repeat with them, being the one I mentioned, some time ago, as not being fully approved at Rome. These things are a puzzle to me. I can blink them for a time, but when I come into close contact, I feel them again, and wonder much how they can agree, not with infallibility, but with the wisdom which I feel otherwise fully disposed to allow to the Church of Rome. This particular case is in favour of Rome. But then Rome allows and sanctions what must almost necessarily involve things to which I cannot reconcile myself. The system of devotion to the Blessed Virgin, as it now stands, wants some foundation beyond all they tell me of when I ask them to give an account of it. Perhaps, in their own mind, they consider that the mind of the Church expressed in her perpetual practice is the real ground; but for the Church being so minded I am sure they do not assign sufficient grounds. If such grounds there are, they must be found in mediÆval revelation; at least, I can hardly conceive mere development going so far with any authority."—M.

Sunday, July 13.—Went to Bishop Luscombe's service. He preached. In our return, we looked into the Chapelle Expiatore—one certainly of the most touching spots of Paris. Under the statues of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette respectively are inscribed their last words—golden words indeed—which can hardly be read, especially on the spot where their bodies rested for twenty-one years, without tears. In the evening we went to the Ecole des FrÈres ChrÉtiens, 6. Rue du Fleurus, and were conducted by some of the brethren to the most extraordinary scene we have witnessed in France. It was a meeting held in the parish church of S.Marguerite, to give prizes to the assiduous members of the society of S.Francois Xavier, which is composed of artizans, who attend periodically to be instructed. After Vespers and Compline, Monseigneur the Archbishop of Chalcedoine was introduced, under whom the sÉance was held. The curÉ then briefly stated the course of proceedings, and presently commenced a dispute between M. l'AbbÉ Massard, prÊtre directeur, and M. l'AbbÉ Croze, on the subject whether there were or were not miracles; the former maintaining the negative, the latter the affirmative. The usual philosophical objections were put by l'AbbÉ Massard, very fairly and with great vivacity, and were answered by l'AbbÉ Croze with vivacity still greater and superior ingenuity. Constant approbation and laughter attended both question and answer, there being a large number of women outside the barrier in the aisles, the workmen members occupying the nave, and all seemed to relish to the utmost the nature of the colloquy. It was, indeed, extremely well imagined to convey to minds of that class a ready answer to specious philosophical objections against the truth of religion; and, though no doubt previously arranged by the two disputants, had all the air of being poured forth with extreme volubility on the spur of the moment. To give a notion of the thing:—"M. Massard proposed the subject of Miracles; and on being asked, What about miracles? said, he should dispute against them. L'AbbÉ Croze asked him what he meant by miracles. M. Massard began, personating an eager and hasty infidel, with a rough account of them. 'I don't mean to give a philosophical definition; I mean what every body means—an extraordinary thing, such as one never saw—in fact, an impossible thing.' L'AbbÉ Croze complained that this was too vague, and gave his own definition—'an act surpassing human power, and out of the ordinary course of nature, and which consequently must be referred to some supernatural power.' L'AbbÉ Massard then made a speech of some length about the impossibility of miracles, and the absurdity of some that were found in history, and concluded by denying all. M. Croze made him begin to repeat his arguments one by one, saying, he would then serve him as Horatius did the Curiatii. M. Massard said, in repetition, 'God cannot work a miracle, for it would be a disorder; it would be against his own laws,' &c. L'AbbÉ Croze said, 'he could not see why He, who makes the sun rise every day, might not stop it one day, as the maker of a watch can stop the watch. A miracle is no exertion of force in the Almighty, no more than for one who walks to stop walking an instant,' &c. M. Massard changed his ground, and"—M.—urged Hume's argument, that even if a miracle were acted before our eyes, we could have no proofs that it was a miracle equal in force to the antecedent improbability that a miracle would be done. M. Croze pulled this to pieces, to the great amusement of the auditory. 'What,' said he, 'can anything be more ridiculous than to tell me that proofs are wanted, when a miracle is done before my eyes? If I see a man whom I well know in the last stage of sickness, witness afterwards his death and burial, and, a year or two after that, that man reappears before my eyes, do I want any proof of the miracle? If I meet an ass in the street and say to him, Ass, speak, philosophise; and he forthwith opens his mouth and argues, do I want any proof that it is a miracle? If I meet an ox going along, and I say, Ox, fly; and he flies, do I want proof of the miracle? If one evening all the women in Paris were to become dumb, and could not speak'—here a burst of laughter broke from all parts of the church, and it was some time before the orator triumphant could proceed. "M. Massard said, 'Well, but there have been sorcerers and magicians who performed miracles; Moses was met by sorcerers who did the same miracles that he did.' Croze—'Not the same: they imitated one or two, but then failed.' He went on with an eloquent apostrophe to Moses, ending with an allusion to the final plague; and then he went on further to illustrate the difference between divine and diabolical miracles, by the history of St.Peter and Simon Magus. M. Massard said, 'But if any one were to work as many miracles by the power of the devil as are recorded in Holy Scripture, must we then believe him?' M. Croze—'No; we have been told that Antichrist will work miracles at the end of the world; but we are assured that God has wrought them in proof of His religion, and He cannot have deceived us. Therefore we may safely reject any pretended revelation that is contrary to what we have received.'"—M.

The last question was, 'You have well proved that there can be, and have been, miracles, but now I wish to put an objection to you, which I think you will find it very hard to answer. How is it that God works no miracles now?' M. Croze rejoins, 'Is that your great difficulty? There are fifty answers I might give you. As, for instance, that God does not choose to work them now, and certainly we have no right to ask His reasons; or, that now His religion is established, it has no need of the confirmation of miracles. These and numberless other answers might be given, but I prefer showing you, that it is not at all desirable miracles should be worked. Two medical charlatans once went into a town, and, in order to get themselves practice, instead of putting out that they had specific remedies for the gout, or the liver, or the digestion, or what not, they declared, on that day three weeks, they would go in broad daylight into the cemetery and raise to life any whom they were asked to raise, however long he had been dead. The bait took; their house in the mean time was besieged with patients, for it was naturally supposed that they, who could raise the dead, could cure the living. In the mean time, as the day approached, the more timid said to the other, 'What shall we do, for if we do not raise the dead man we shall certainly be stoned.' 'Don't be afraid,' said the other, 'I know mankind better than that;' and, indeed, the next day a middle-aged man came to them, and offered them a considerable sum if they would go away without raising the dead. 'Ah! Messieurs,' said he, 'j'avais une si mÉchante femme.' Another burst of laughter throughout the church. 'I had such a shrew of a wife. God in his goodness has been pleased to relieve me of her; if she should be the one you pitch upon, I should be a lost man.' Presently came two young men, and said, 'Ah! Messieurs, an old man died the other day and left us a great fortune: if you raise him up, I am afraid we shall be lost men, for he will certainly take it from us again.' Not long after came the magistrates, who had reason to fear lest a certain person, who was now quietly out of the way, should return to life and trouble them. And they besought and authorised our charlatans to leave the city before the appointed day. So you see it would be a very undesirable thing to have the power to work miracles. So I might answer you; but I, for my part, believe there have been miracles in modern times.' Here he cited some, which I did not catch. Such was the nature of this confÉrence between M. Massard and M. Croze, which latter had a countenance remarkable for finesse and subtilty and comic humour. Profaneness to the church was supposed to be guarded against by stretching a curtain before the altar at some little distance.

This was followed by an energetic and rhetorical sermon from L'AbbÉ Frappaz, on the love of Christ, and on faith, hope, and charity, which was listened to with great attention, and applauded more than once. "After this they sang 'Monstra te esse matrem' to a lively hopping air."—M.

Then came a long distribution of prizes, in books and pictures, to the most attentive members, which were delivered to each by the Archbishop of Chalcedoine, while at intervals the choir struck out verses of a hymn in honour of St. Francis Xavier, which was echoed through the church. In the mean time the curtain had been withdrawn, and the altar brilliantly lighted up for a salut pontificalement cÉlÉbrÉ. This, however, we did not stay for, as it was already past ten.

Monday, July 14.—We went up to Montmartre, having a letter for the curÉ; but we found that he had moved to Charenton, behind PÈre la Chaise. Round the church there is a small garden, with the Stations, which terminate on the north side in a Calvary; there are the three crosses, and figures as large as life, on a little rocky eminence; beneath is the sepulchre, with a recess for the body, a window and two doors: on the south side a small chapel of Notre Dame des Sept Douleurs, in which she is represented with Christ in her arms. Underneath is the following inscription, which we copied as a specimen of expressions, such as, though unauthorised by the Roman Church, are continually found in and about churches, and do much harm:—

"Ne sortez pas du Calvaire sans invoquer Notre Dame des Sept Douleurs. Elle pleine de grace, le soutien des malheureux, la consolation des affligÉs, le refuge des pÉcheurs, et des opprimÉs.

"Elle vient du mont ValÉrien; elle opÈre des grands prodiges, adressons nous À elle avec confiance; elle nous sera propice, et nous consolera dans nos peines. Priez pour nous, MÈre de Dieu, qui avons recours À vous."

We showed this to M. Galais in the evening: he censured it, declared it was contrary to the rule, which required that no such thing should be set up without the authority of the Bishop, and said he would have it made known to the Archbishop of Paris.

The church is very old, plain and ugly outside; its apse misappropriated into a telegraph station; inside it is a little better: Norman in style. The chief interest about it to us was that here St.Ignatius de Loyola made his first profession.

We enjoyed the prospect of Paris from the hill below; but that of London is, I think, finer; for this general view wants grievously the towers and spires of the middle ages: in that vast expanse there are but few buildings which soar above the common range. Notre Dame, S.Jacques de la Boucherie, The Pantheon, Les Invalides, and one or two others, seem as nothing in that great city.

We visited M. Galais again this afternoon, as he was going out to their maison de campagne, for his retreat of eight days, to-morrow. He was reciting his Breviary when we entered his chamber; he begged permission to continue, then knelt down for the Lord's Prayer, and after that talked with us above an hour. He also took us to the SupÉrieur. I told him we were desirous to learn all we could of their discipline. He said the seminaries had been originally established with a view to cultivate the interior life, and as places of religious recueillement,—the young men going to the Sorbonne for instruction. All this had been put a stop to at the Revolution; and now, the university being under the direction of infidels, they were obliged to make their seminaries serve for instruction as well as for works of piety. They wished to have a chair of Ecclesiastical History. He inquired about the state of Christian philosophy at Oxford, and said they looked for something to be done on that subject, where the stress of the battle with infidelity now lies. He also asked whether as careful a guard was kept over young men preparing for orders as with them: on which point we were ashamed to answer. M. Galais invited us to their maison de campagne, and we agreed to go on Saturday.

Tuesday, July 15.—We ventured to call on the PÈre Lacordaire, and were richly rewarded for our boldness, inasmuch as we had more than an hour's very animated talk with him. Behold a veritable monk, a St. Bernard as it were, returned again in the vigour of manhood; in his white Dominican dress he looked the very beau idÉal of the Church's warrior, armed at all points for the encounter with heresy, and walking serene and fearless amid the troubles of life and the shock of falling systems. A fresh and rosy countenance, a keen dark eye, and most animated expression, contributed to form one of the most striking figures I have ever beheld. I thought it was worth coming to Paris to see him. Perhaps the knowledge that he was a most eloquent preacher had something to do with this feeling. "I asked him about the Tiers Ordre de S.Dominic. He said that it was under no vow, but they might add to their profession the vow of celibacy (chastity they call it always), or that of obedience, or both. The rule, as modified by authoritative dispensations, may be observed with tolerable ease by persons living in society. Father Lacordaire himself, as superior of the Dominicans in France, has received from Rome certain dispensations for those who may embrace the third order; and there are already some fifty of them, if I remember right, in Paris."—M.

We talked about the Anglican movement. He spoke also of the miserable state of the University in France; that, instead of being local, it was extended every where, and so had no body, no coherence. Its professors were bandied about, from one end of France to the other, at the pleasure of the government. He said they were engaged in a great contest for the liberty of the religious orders: that was nearly won: it would certainly arrive. Protestantism showed its deadness by producing no monastic institutions: there was no sign more convincing to his mind than this. If we had a true spring of life among us, how could we have failed to put forth what is so undeniably accordant with the spirit of the cross? After we had talked some time, I said, 'I should like to put a question to you. Suppose a person of intelligence, of perfect good faith, who is ready to make any sacrifice for religion, who uses all possible means to attain to the truth; suppose such a person, firmly convinced that the English Church is a branch of the Catholic Church; though unhappily separated from the Roman Church; would you condemn him—that is, put him out of the pale of salvation?' 'Monsieur,' said he, 'there is only one thing which can excuse a person for not belonging to the Church, and that is invincible ignorance. You know in certain cases even the heathen may be saved. But such a person cannot be in invincible ignorance; for there are only three things by which a man can be prevented from seeing the truth: either the truth in itself must be of insufficient power to convince him; or there must be a defect of understanding; or a corruption of will. But the first is out of the question. The truth of itself must always be sufficient: to suppose otherwise would be to censure God. Either then there must be a defect of understanding, but in the cases of the leaders of the Anglican movement, that is out of the question, because they are men of great powers of mind, of great distinction; there remains only then the corruption of the will, which, indeed, is often so subtle, that men are unconscious of its influence. Nevertheless, in the sight of God it is the will which in such cases leads astray, and then such men are condemned, and cannot plead invincible ignorance—when indeed you come to the individual, I will not attempt to judge: it is written, "nolite judicare," for it is utterly impossible for any human being to know the inward state of another. But I only say of the class that such persons cannot plead invincible ignorance—for the truth itself, as I have said, cannot be insufficient; and their intellectual powers are such, that in these also there can be no impediment; consequently the obstacle must be in the will, however unconscious the individual may be of it. A thousand considerations of family, of fortune, of habit, and what not, surround a man, and insensibly warp him, but he is still under condemnation, for it is his own will that is corrupt. If I were to go into a public square in Paris and raise three men from the dead, would all that saw it believe?' 'Certainly not,' I said. 'Why then is that? There is some secret obstacle in their will.' We tried in vain to make him understand that a person might be conscientiously convinced, after the most patient study, that the Church of England was part of the true Church, but in vain. It was plainly an idea that he could not and would not receive.

I put the case of the Greek and Russian Churches. He exempted the poor and illiterate from censure, but in the case of the instructed he said it must be the spirit of schism which secretly turned them away from the truth. I said there were bishops and monks and multitudes of persons of a devoted and severe life on their side, who failed to see the claims of the Roman See. 'Ah,' he said, 'it has always been so; in our Saviour's time they ascribed his miracles to Beelzebub; how was it that they who saw Lazarus raised from the dead went and informed the chief priests of it?' In short, so complete a conviction of the truth of the whole Roman system possessed his mind, that he was utterly unable to conceive a person of ability and sincerity coming to any other conclusion. We only put the case hypothetically, but he would not admit it even so; he said, it is morally and metaphysically impossible.

"I said, 'I wish I could show you the interior of a mind like that of ——. Born and educated in Anglicanism, he has given great attention to religious truth, and in particular to the points in question. He has no desire but to be in the Catholic Church and to labour for it, but he believes that the Church of England is a branch of it, unhappily separated for a time by peculiar circumstances from the rest; and now in a state of appeal. In remaining where he is, he believes he is doing his duty. What do you think of such a case?' He said, 'I cannot judge of individuals,' but, &c. over again. He spoke as if he did not know much of England. I said to him, 'the question after all is one of fact: there are facts in England with which you are not acquainted.'"—M. He did not seem acquainted with the peculiarities of our position. He spoke with great energy and ability. I can fancy what his force in the pulpit must be.

We went to M. D'Alzon, who conducted us to Dom GuÉranger; he received us with great kindness. The Pope has just erected a bishopric at Perth, in New South Wales, and one of his ÉlÈves is going out there; he suddenly resolved upon it three weeks ago, and seems quite in high spirits at the thought of it. There are now one Roman Catholic archbishopric and three bishoprics there,—Sydney, Hobartown, Adelaide, and Perth. They said Dr. Flaget, Bishop of Bardstown, had been sent out with his pontifical and a paper mitre; 'as for his cross,' said Dom GuÉranger, 'he could cut that out of a tree.' We put nearly the same question to him as to the PÈre Lacordaire, but he was more indulgent in his answer. He said, provided such a person was strictly sincere, and used every means to discover the truth, he must be judged to belong to the soul of the Church, though he was separated from its body, and would be saved. He said our formularies for the consecration of bishops and priests were deficient, so that, granting the succession even, it would be more than doubtful whether they were true bishops and priests; but being pressed he admitted that the Roman Church had never yet been called upon to decide the point, and that in fact it was not decided, though there was a general opinion among them about it. When I told him that Coleridge had collected 50,000l. for St. Augustine's, and what was the object of it, he was much astonished. 'If you English were restored to the Church,' he said, 'you would evangelise the world; Spaniards and Portuguese, Italians and French, must yield to you, with the resources you command.' Talking of liturgies, he remarked spontaneously, how those of the East were full of addresses to the Blessed Virgin: half or a third of every page was devoted to her. They went before the Roman Church in that respect. When the Council of Ephesus gave her the title of 'Mother of God,' there were public rejoicings throughout the city in consequence. He did not seem to like admitting that the prayers of St. Ephrem to the Blessed Virgin were not authentic; said it was his style. (Morris tells me the style of his Syriac works is very different from that of his Greek, and the matter much deeper.) At parting he expressed a wish, that if we came to Paris again, we would come and see him. We took a look at the beautiful chapel of the Soeurs Garde-Malades, with fresh admiration of it. We had expressed a wish to M. D'Alzon to see some sackcloth and instruments of penitence; so he took us to a house of Carmelite nuns of St. TherÈse, near the Luxembourg: one of them conversed behind the grille and curtain, which was quite impervious to the sight on both sides. It is part of their special duty to pray for the conversion of Protestants. These Carmelites discipline themselves every Friday. The sister showed us some of their instruments of discipline; corporal austerities, however, by all that we could learn, are not common, nor are they generally allowed by confessors, partly that the health of few will allow of them; partly, there is a danger of pride thence arising.

Wednesday, July 16.—M. D'Alzon came and breakfasted with us, and afterwards took us to the establishment of the FrÈres ChrÉtiens, Rue du Faubourg St. Martin, 165., where the SupÉrieur GÉnÉral, FrÈre Philippe, received us. There was little to see in the house, as they expected the Strasburg railway would come through them and drive them away. He said the number of brethren altogether was 4000; of pupils under them, adult and children, 198,000: they increase yearly. They were almost dispersed at the first revolution, but returned again through Cardinal Fesch, who found four of the brethren, who had taken refuge at Lyons, and brought them to Paris. FrÈre Philippe is very plain and homely: his picture, by Horace Vernet, has made a great sensation here.

M. D'Alzon then took me to a house of priests in the Rue de la Planche. I had a long talk with two of them. The first was a confessor to a penitentiary, in which eighty women are received at the cost of the city of Paris. His account of their penitence was touching. It is rare that any leave them without being thoroughly changed, provided they stay long enough. But the picture which he gave of the depravity general in Paris on this head was frightful. It is a wonderful spectacle, the close contact into which the most sublime self-devotion and the most abandoned sensuality are brought in this great city; on the one hand, consider the daily prayers and mortifications, and works of charity of those Carmelites, who are ever engaged in interceding for the conversion of sinners; of those nuns of the Adoration, who are ever contemplating the most wonderful of mysteries; of those Ladies of the Assumption, who dedicate the talents and accomplishments God has given them, under the vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity, to the direct furtherance of his kingdom; of those solitary and homeless priests—without father and without mother, without ties of family or worldly possessions, truly after the order of Melchisedec—who are ever offering the most holy Sacrifice, and building up the mystical body: on the other hand, think of that gulph of libertinage and selfishness, which is ever swallowing fresh victims—hearts young and unsuspicious, warm and confiding—polluting body and soul with the dregs of uncleanness, and hurrying them away too often into the presence of the Judge. No tale of misery ever told in fiction surpasses that which is daily enacting in Paris again and again. Amid such things we live, and truly we have need both to pray ourselves, and to call upon all spirits of the just made perfect to intercede for us and for our brethren. And yet it is the same flesh and blood—the same body, soul, and spirit—the same man, which is thus fearfully working for the devil, or thus heroically fighting for God. O mystery of the grace of God and of the human will, which is past finding out!

In the evening we visited, for a short time, the church of Notre Dame de Lorette, which is sumptuously decorated inside with paintings all over; it has a double row of pillars each side. The subjects seem chosen with great judgment, and the legends are more truly Catholic than one often sees. The expense of this church must have been enormous. We also looked into La Madeleine—very beautiful indeed it is, and as grand as the Grecian style can be, but it furnishes one with the best proof that such is not the proper style for a church.

Thursday; July 17.—We looked into La Madeleine again, at the Messe du midi. Its sumptuousness is astonishing. If, however, it were not safer to admire than to criticise in such cases, one might observe how vast a space is lost in the walls and arrangements of the interior, the breadth which strikes the eye being only fifty feet, while the real breadth of the side walls is at least eighty. Its architecture seems the inversion of that of St. Ouen or Amiens, inasmuch as it makes the least effect out of the greatest means, while the other makes the greatest effect out of the least means; all seems aerial and heaven-pointing in the one style; while the other seems unable, with its vast bulk, to rise from the earth, and perpetually crosses the eye with its horizontal lines—faithful images both of the religions they represent.

We found l'AbbÉ Ratisbonne at home, and had a long talk with him. I mentioned to him the objectionable words addressed to the Blessed Virgin, which I had seen at Montmartre and in the little book; he made the usual excuse that such things are not done by authority, and also that the French language was weak, and so, in expressing heavenly affections, it might so happen that they used words which, in strictness of speech, were too strong, but the conventional use of which formed their exculpation. Thus it was common to say of a very fine picture, 'quel adorable tableau,' and so the word 'infiniment;' but these applied to the Blessed Virgin in strictness of speech become objectionable. Much therefore must be allowed to the weakness and indistinctness of human language, on the one hand, and to the fervour of filial love longing to pour itself forth, on the other. 'We are children of God,' he said; 'we speak to him as children, not as wise men; we ask the indulgence given to infants.' And so again, as respects the Blessed Virgin. He said he had been converted from Judaism at twenty-three, had seen much of Protestants before that time, but their prayers and their whole style of thinking had disgusted him; he had never been at all drawn to them. He had been a priest ten years, and was now forty-two. We had much talk on the Anglo-Roman controversy. I said, we thought ourselves Catholics already, that we had been born and bred in the English Church, which was to us the portal of that great building of the Catholic Church. He approved of that metaphor, which served to give him a better notion of our position than anything else we said, though, like every other Roman Catholic, he could not admit for a moment that we were in the Church. He said, a Protestant minister, an optician, had expressed to him his belief in the efficacy of prayers for the dead, which appeared to him under this image: it was as if a number of figures were thrown into the shade, out of the sun's rays; while between them and the sun are other figures who enjoy his full light: these, like certain glasses, reflect that light upon the figures in the shade. Thus it is that the prayers of the blessed especially succour the faithful dead. He had often used this image in sermons. I pressed him with the existence of the Greek Church, on the one hand, and the acknowledged developement of Papal power, on the other; but no Roman Catholic ever hesitates to excommunicate individual or church which is not de facto united to the Roman See; unity with them is indeed a first principle—a sublime and true belief in itself, though perhaps certain facts may modify the application of it. He said he had thought continually of us since our visit, and had the greatest esteem for us, that he had prayed for us daily, as he did for England; that fair England, if she could be again, as she once was, the Island of Saints—what a means for the conversion of others! At our parting, he begged our prayers for himself. I said, if I came again to Paris, I should hope to be allowed to see him again. Our conversation was so disjointed that I can remember but little of it, but it turned on the offences which alienated us from them. He denied repeatedly the thought of adoring the Blessed Virgin. He had moved his lodgings to the Rue du Regard, 14., in order to overlook a house and garden opposite, in which were lodged a female community of converts from Judaism, over whom he watched. The SupÉrieure was with him when we came. He spoke of our silence as to the Blessed Virgin and all saints; that we made a wall of separation between them and us, whereas the whole Church was one, vividly affected with the joys and sorrows of its several members. M. tried to show that, in the present state of things, silence might conceal very deep and reverential feelings. He seemed not to think this satisfactory, and in truth it applies only partially.

We went to the Pantheon; its interior has the coldness and deadness which naturally belongs to the tombs of those who die without the Christian's hope. It looks exactly what it is,—the shrine of human ambition—a vast coffin holding a skeleton. If it were made a church hereafter, as surely it must be, it might be made to equal the Madeleine in magnificence. We mounted and enjoyed the fine view: there is a triple dome,—sufficiently bungling, I think.

We called in at Toulouse's, and while there he discovered that I was not a Roman Catholic; whereupon he began to persuade me, with the most affectionate solicitude, that I was in a self-evidently wrong position. He asked how I justified the schism. 'I don't understand,' he said, 'how you could be Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman one day, and wake the next and find yourselves Catholic, Apostolic, and not Roman.' I answered that we had indubitably the ancient succession; that the evil passions of men on the one hand, and the extravagant claims of the Papacy on the other, had caused the separation, which I deplored. But still I hoped, that, though in an anomalous state, we had what was strictly necessary to the essence of a Church. I mentioned, too, the position of the whole Eastern Church. I showed him the dangerous and extravagant language used towards the Blessed Virgin in the Psaltery of St.Bonaventure: he could not answer that, and reserved it to show to a priest; but he maintained that the work was St. Bonaventure's. I said, 'All that St.Gregory the Great, who sent St. Augustine into England, claimed for himself; all that St. Leo demanded, or that St. Athanasius and St. Basil granted to the Holy See, I am ready to give.' He finished with expressions of kind concern for us.

Friday, July 18.—Went to M. Bonnetty, who, with M. D'Alzon, took us to the HÔtel de Cluny: it is full of curious objects of the Middle Ages. I remarked one exquisite bit of glass—a pretty chapel—the remains of the Roman baths. There was something in the air of to-day which inspired me with such lassitude that I could hardly drag myself about, so we did very little. After dinner we looked into La Madeleine and went on to Bishop Luscombe's, where we took tea.

Saturday, July 19.—A little better to-day. At La Madeleine during part of a Low Mass; my admiration for this building increases greatly; it produces much the same effect as St. Peter's, deceiving the eye by its great proportions. We spent a couple of hours in the boundless galleries of the Louvre. The long gallery contains few pictures that I should much desire to possess: save in the last compartment, and the first room, and none certainly interest me more than that great picture of the battle of Eylau. Thence we went to M. L'AbbÉ Gaduel, 1. Rue Madame, who took us to the Maison de Campagne of S.Sulpice, at Issy. It is an old royal chateau, much dilapidated, for the good seminarists do not pretend to much comfort in their house; it would seem as if they intended their discipline to serve as a winnowing fan for all light and worldly spirits. They have, however, spacious gardens behind. We were shown a summer house in which Bossuet and FÉnÉlon held a long conference on the subject in dispute between them, and agreed on statements together, which are put up in the room, though the interest of the latter is much gone by in the totally different state of things at present. Eighty young men study philosophy here. We saw and talked some little time with M. Faillon, the SupÉrieur, a man of learning. M. Galais was out, and we only met him returning on his way from Paris on foot. Coming home we went into the Maison des Carmes, now in repair. M. Gaduel took us into the passage out of which the priests, after stating to the authority the act of their death, were led forward down three steps into the garden, at the bottom of which the assassins fell upon them and murdered them. No spot in Paris touched me more than this. There is what appears to be the marks of a bloody hand in the passage still; but there is no other record of that ruthless deed. The church has nothing remarkable about it: but what devoted heroism on the one side, and what infernal madness on the other, have this house and garden witnessed! How many martyrs here won their crown. Truly it is holy ground, and the blood there shed is yielding a rich harvest of Christian grace in the Church which has sprung up out of its ashes with the strength of a young eagle. In the evening we went to the assemblÉe gÉnÉrale of S.Vincent de Paul, 2. Rue neuve Notre Dame, under the patronage of the Archbishop of Chalcedoine. The president gave in a long speech an account of their doings; but he was old, had lost his teeth, and dropped his voice, so that we lost very much of it.

"The beginning of his speech was about S.Vincent de Paul himself. The society had just come into possession of some relics of him, and especially a letter in his own handwriting, containing some counsels of charity. For some reason or other he was not able to produce the letter this evening; I should have liked to hear it, for his words are worth gathering up. He also said that he had been to see his birth-place; and that the house he was born in had been removed stone by stone, and a chapel put in its place. The village had lost its old name, and taken his; an old oak, known in his history, where he kept pigs for his father, was still alive, and came out in leaf before the other trees. The president cautioned them against any departure from their rules; against admitting members who were only 'braves hommes,' without being religious; against attempting to bring in secondary motives to induce the members of any 'confÉrence' to work; against reserving their money for their own districts, instead of putting it into the common fund of the confÉrence: against a slight and lazy way of visiting the poor, a 'visite de corridor,' as he called it, instead of a 'visite assise.' He said they ought to sit down and talk familiarly, and take the little dirty children by the hand, &c. &c. Finally, a good many of them being students, he gave them some advice about young students recommended to them from the country, especially to take care that they were sent straight to them, and not left first to get into bad company. He described how some friend in one of the provinces sends you a note by some youth whom he describes as a 'petit ange,' and who, after six weeks' residence in Paris, comes and brings you his note, his eye already tarnished, his manner bold and loose, 'un ange dÉchu.'"—M. There were present full two hundred, chiefly young men, in a little amphitheatre. It was commenced and ended with prayer, which claimed the intercession of S.Vincent. This is his fÊte day. They mentioned four branch societies established at Manchester, Liverpool, Dublin, and Edinburgh.

Sunday, July 20.—I gave up the attempt to go to Bishop Luscombe's Chapel, as there was no communion. Heard High Mass at La Madeleine. The music very good, and the dresses splendid; not more than an hour. At two o'clock went to Vespers there: there was chanting of Psalms, an hour, and then a long sermon, more than an hour, on the virtues of S.Vincent de Paul. The preacher used a great deal of action, and gave me the idea of having very much got up his discourse, which was confirmed by seeing him in the evening at Notre Dame des Victoires, where we heard the commencement of the same sermon, but did not stop. The subject of it seems to have been a very great and good man; the sermon was a sort of abstract, I believe, of the Saint's life by the Bishop of Rodez. There was a passionate address to the Saint in the middle, with eyes uplifted to heaven. A great many people, chiefly women; many ladies,—but I do not think it was a favourite preacher. We gave up the confÉrence of S.Francis Xavier at S.Sulpice, having so much to do to-morrow, though much to our regret; but late hours and great exertions here have tried us both, and we shall be very glad of a change.

We walked through the Tuileries just before dark; a great multitude of citizens.

Monday, July 21.—We were occupied all the morning in packing up and calling on MM. D'Alzon, Bonnetty, and Noirlieu—the latter out. We left Paris a quarter past six, on a very fine pleasant evening. Having the two first places in the malle poste, we enjoyed the drive very much as long as it was light—we reached Reims in eleven hours, a quarter after five, without much fatigue. I slept at intervals, and when I awoke admired the brilliant moonlight, Venus, and Jupiter, through one or two forests, or at least woods, which we passed. The road generally very flat, with these exceptions. Our companion was a gentlemanly Frenchman, with whom I had much conversation. He seemed to be much attached to the present Royal Family, whom he spoke of as acquainted with them, and maintained that the King was a religious man—that he heard Mass daily; the Queen was a model of piety. He thought their dynasty would stand; and not the least, because they would never submit to be exiles; they would either keep the throne, or die for it. The great mistake of Charles X. was quitting France; if you go away everyone is against you; if you stay, a party is sure to rally round you. He seemed to think the issue might have been different had Charles X. remained. But there was no chance of a restoration now; the great mass of the country was satisfied. He spoke well of the Duc de Nemours, still more highly of the Duc d'OrlÉans, and said the Comte de Paris was a very promising boy. He regretted the want of an hereditary peerage in France, and the little independence that body possessed in consequence. I remarked the smallness of fortunes: that 60,000 francs a year were thought a good fortune for a peer. He said not fifty peers of France possessed that; many could not keep their carriage. Spoke of the clergy as not high enough in point of acquirements—he did not say their discipline or piety was defective, but that they were not a match in information, ability, and powers of mind, for those opposed to them. Wished the higher classes would send their sons into orders,—a Royal Prince, for instance, would be a good example. The tax on land in France is nearly one-fifth of the produce; very heavy; 200l. a year in land a deputy's qualification. Soon after getting to our inn, which was right opposite the west front of the Cathedral, we attended a Low Mass, and at eight o'clock a chanted Mass: it was a Mass for the dead. The outside of Reims is all that can be conceived of beauty, grandeur, unity of conception, delicacy and boldness of execution; and this, though the one great design of the architect has not been completed, for the four towers of the transepts have had no spires since the great fire of 1491; and the western towers are also without theirs, and so end incompletely, the eye positively requiring them. The design of these towers is very singular; and the skill with which a strength sufficient to support spires 400 feet high is veiled, so as to make the towers appear quite pierced and open, seems to me one of the greatest marvels of architecture. The prototype exists in the four towers of Laon, which have the same design in embryo; but this is so enriched, expanded, and beautified by the architect of Reims, as to become his own work in point of originality, and certainly in grace and boldness not to be surpassed. The superiority of the western front, even over that of Amiens, is very marked—indeed, I think it perfect; and the whole of the rest of the outside of the church reaches nearly the same degree. No words can convey any notion of it. The north-west tower was half covered with scaffolding; for here, as every where, great reparations are going on. To the interior I do not give quite so much praise, though it is still of exceeding grandeur, simplicity, and beauty: perhaps, were all its windows like those of the clerestory, the effect might equal or surpass that of Chartres. The west end is, I think, the finest which I know, bearing in mind Amiens and St. Ouen; in addition to a rose window of exceeding brilliancy, and colouring inexpressible, which, forty feet in diameter, crowns the top, there is a smaller one over the doorway, answering to the deep recess of that matchless portal outside. This is a feature of great beauty, though the glass is far from equalling that of the upper rose. There is happily no organ here, but at the end of the north transept, where it has not quite so much to spoil. The transept is inferior to the rest of the church in style. It was restored after the great fire in 1491; and this part of the church, with the whole of the choir and arrangements of the eastern chapels, struck me as decidedly inferior to Amiens. There is not, indeed, generally the same impression of vastness and wondrous height produced on the mind. The pillars are cylinders with four columns at the corners, like Amiens, very simple and severe; but the strength is not quite enough veiled. We went all round the galleries inside and outside, up the centre belfry, which rises ninety-two steps over the top of the vaulting, with an interval of about ten feet besides. It is a forest of wood, and had once a spire of wood, which since the fire has not been restored; this and the six towers have been covered 'provisoirement en ardoises,' as the guide told us, 'mais ce provisoirement a durÉ long temps;' indeed, from 1491 to our time, without much chance of being improved. We went up the great towers, and could hardly admire enough the delicacy and boldness of the four corner turrets in open work. The present towers are 240 or 250 feet high; they would, I think, equal or surpass Strasburg and Antwerp, had they spires. The immense quantity of sculpture all over this exterior cannot be conceived, nor the ingenuity with which it is made to serve for decoration. A day is far too short a time to carry off the impression of it. The mind is fatigued and exhausted during many a visit, and is not at ease till it has sufficiently mastered the whole, in order to fix itself for admiration and contemplation on some particular part. It would be a week's good work to see it, and it should be visited once a year by all those who talk of the darkness of the Middle Ages, and the greatness of the nineteenth century, which is sorely taxed to keep in repair what they constructed, and has not sufficient piety to restore a part where the architect's design has been left incomplete. Such parts remain, like the window of Aladdin's palace, to show that a materialising philosophy, with all its improved physical powers, remains at immeasurable distance behind the efforts of faith and piety. M. Cousin should be sent to study truth on his knees in Notre Dame of Amiens, or of Reims.

In the midst of seeing the cathedral we walked to St. Remi, a mile, taking the ramparts. They offer a good view of the cathedral, and one of the country round, like Wiltshire, but backed by fine hills to the south; but in this open country, and along all that line of hills, the famous vine of champagne flourishes. St. Remi is an immense church, 350 feet long, besides the Lady Chapel: Norman, with pointed arches; the choir with its stained windows very good; seven in the apse. The tomb of St. Remi was under repair; it is between the high altar and the east end; so the statues of the twelve peers were ranged six on one side and six on the other side of the great altar pro tempore. This church is a very grand and fine one, and, except in the presence of the cathedral, would take a day to see. Its west front has been strangely tampered with, but reminds one still, especially the turrets, of St. Georges de Boscherville; but this is greatly the more spacious church of the two.

We spent all the day in going about, passing through the internal galleries of the cathedral; the curve in the nave is very perceptible. The roof was poorly painted for the sacre of Charles X. with white fleurs de lis on a blue ground; it is very massive in its vaulting, the pitch, perhaps, not perfectly agreeable to the eye.

We had a letter from M. D'Alzon to the Archbishop, but he had left Reims a day or two before; we had another from M. Gaduel to the SupÉrieur of the SÉminaire, which M. took in the afternoon. About 8 o'clock we both went there, and had some talk with him and the professors, one of whom, M. Lassaigne, gave us a translation of Gioberti against Cousin, and recommended me Le PrÊtre Juge et Medicin dans le Tribunal de la Penitence, which I got. I gathered from their discourse that confession is the great chain which holds together the whole Christian life; it is practised weekly by the pupils: communion is entirely free. A great many priests of the neighbourhood confess still to the supÉrieur (M. Aubry), their old teacher: forty he said. I asked them if they could conceive a Christian life maintained without confession: they said, hardly; that it was involved in our Lord's words, "whose sins ye do retain," &c., which power could only be exercised upon each individual case, after knowledge of the facts, such as of course can only be obtained by auricular confession. I alleged to the SupÉrieur the strong expressions often used to the Virgin Mary, instancing "les satisfactions infinies du Fils de Dieu et de sa MÈre:" he condemned them and this. I spoke of St. Bonaventure's Psalter; he did not seem acquainted with it, and regretted that I did not stay till the morrow, when he would have gone over it with me, and weighed the words. But at last he said, St. Bonaventure is not the Church, though he is a saint and doctor of it. They were very kind and cordial, and I should have liked to see more of them.

Wednesday, July 23.—At 5 o'clock the bell of the cathedral sounded long and loud over our heads, leaving no excuse for those who chose to slumber on. I got up, and found two places by the diligence for Laon. M. was in a great hurry, so I exercised a piece of self-denial and woke him, and we hurried off. It was, indeed, with great regret I departed from under the shadow of that noble church, feeling that I left so much of its beauty undiscerned, or rather so few of its forms impressed on the mind. We were four hours and a half reaching Laon, from 6 to 10½, in the intÉrieur; two fat women and a child made it latterly very uncomfortable. The country flat for some way, then hills and fine prospects. But the position of Laon is very remarkable indeed, a triangular hill rising out of a great plain: in short, another Enna, though not so lofty. The resemblance is very marked indeed, and presented itself to me again and again. Near to one corner of the triangle rises the cathedral, with its four lofty towers, two at the west end, and one at each end of the transept; there are the beginnings of two others, and all six were intended to have had spires as lofty as themselves; the south-west had one, which was taken down. Their present height is, the S.W. 220 feet each, (French,) the N. and S. 235. They are very striking, but want their crown of spires, and are in the most splendid situation for such a building which I ever saw. The view is accordingly very extensive, to the north flat, but to the south terminated by fine hills. We viewed these towers in a great number of positions, on the promenades, and from another corner of the triangle, to the south. The church within is very stately; early English, 400 feet long, and quite uniform in style, or at least with only here and there a decorated window, as in the S. transept. The curve of the roof is very beautiful; after Reims it struck us as low, though at least 80 feet high. The west front is fine, though the portals require more work to conceal their vast depth. I could not but greatly admire the skill of the architect of Reims, who had evidently studied and adopted the towers and western front of this church, which is said in its time (1130) to have been the finest in France, and yet has produced a work incomparably more beautiful, and quite original. Laon has a double triforium, making four stages in its interior.

We walked about here a great deal. The situation is one of the finest I have ever seen; it inspires a sort of elevation in the mind. Beyond the church a caserne is building, and a fort already made—a bad exchange for the tower of Louis d'Outremer. The church of St. Martin is very disappointing inside, being very low. As the diligence was full for the night, we hired a cab, to take us to St. Quentin. It took us from 5½ to 11½, stopping half an hour at La FÈre. Road generally flat, and very bad indeed, having no pavÉ to La FÈre. We saw a village church or two, Norman in style. Our conveyance was one of the most uncomfortable I ever experienced; besides that we were overwhelmed with bags and coats. Our driver served at eighteen in one of Napoleon's battles, and had carried off a token in a sabre cut on the cheek; it was the battle of Fleury, where, he said, "L'Empereur Était trahi." So the French guide-book says of the battle of Crecy: "Les FranÇais perdirent 30,000 par la faute du Comte d'AlenÇon."

Thursday, July 24.—We are at l'HÔtel du Cygne: comfortable enough. The church is of first-rate beauty; the nave, from its great height and purity of style, even more striking than that of Reims inside; and so the transept: but the choir and many parts of the church have swerved from the perpendicular, and are braced with iron,—a sad drawback. The architect has raised his central building, with extreme boldness, to an enormous height; but he has not thrown strength and breadth enough into his aisles to resist the pressure. The windows throughout of geometric tracery, remarkably beautiful; and the pillars of the nave spring from the ground to the roof without capital at the lower arches, and are of great beauty, an advance certainly on Reims, and in one respect on Amiens, in that they are not merely cylinders, with columns at the four corners, but have two colonnettes introduced again between these, which produces an effect of great lightness. Beautiful end of north transept, a decorated window below, an open triforium of eight lights, and a vast decorated window terminating in a great rosace above—stained glass. The apse of seven windows, with most brilliant stained glass, beginning from a second transept of great beauty, making a double cross, the southern part flamboyant. I think the nave of this church, and the apse and arrangements of its chapels might be profitably studied as an almost perfect specimen; it may compete with Amiens and St. Ouen, and undoubtedly surpasses Reims. Height, 128 English feet; vaulting of roof very beautiful. We went in at 11 o'clock, and found preparations for a funeral of some importance: presently all the choir was filled with well dressed persons; and the body being deposited under a catafalque, surrounded with burning tapers, in the centre of the nave and transept, mass was chanted. The black velvet chasuble, and the copes and other robes to match, like all the dresses of the Roman clergy, are very handsome. We went into the upper part of the choir, but I could not avoid noticing with what indifference most of the attendants on the funeral treated the holiest rite of the Church; they were, no doubt, unbelievers; and some ragged boys close beside me were a serious annoyance, incessantly spitting, laughing, and talking. The west end of this church has been barbarized in the style of 1681, most ugly to behold; it seems to have been intended to have two towers, but no part of them at present exists. We went through the roof of the church, and caught a view from the strange-looking steeple which rises over the croisÉe. The country round is not remarkable—flat, and in parts wooded. Rest of the day spent in writing. Found some common prints of details in the life of the Holy Family which pleased us.

Friday, July 25.—At 6 o'clock we started by the diligence to Amiens by Peronne—had the coupÉ with an English woman, who got in a few miles on the road. The country not remarkable—some hills and a fertile succession of corn-fields. Reached Peronne a little before nine, and breakfasted there. Several fortifications and drawbridges both entering and going, but they did not seem kept up with much care. The Church, de la Renaissance, not remarkable. The rest of the road to Amiens a fine broad country, with occasional hills, of average beauty. No view of Amiens cathedral but from the last hill, a few miles off, and then it looked small, I suppose from the vastness of the plain in which it stands. We did not reach Amiens, a distance of only 82 kiloms. from St.Quentin, till after three o'clock. At the last stage some young seminarists got out of the rotonde, and were met by their mother and sisters, as it seemed: they were apparently peasants, very humbly clad, and of the most ordinary demeanour. I saw what education had done for the young men (who had not received the tonsure): even the retired life and poor salary of a country curÉ would be a great elevation in the scale of society to them. I would not mention this invidiously, but the lot of the French CurÉ de Campagne has sometimes appeared to me so painful, that it was a relief to see its bright side even in a material point of view.

I went to my old quarters at the HÔtel de France, and we were shown into the same room I had occupied two years before. We got a light dinner and set off to the cathedral. The first sight of its west front was almost painful after that of Reims, there being certainly a confusion and want of harmony in its parts; while the southern tower being left twenty feet lower than the northern combines to spoil the effect. But I was no sooner in the interior than a full sense of its prodigious superiority to every other building we had seen established itself on my mind; and the impression my first visit two years ago made was more than repeated. Only St. Ouen may enter at all into competition; but the vast proportions of Amiens, combined with the great purity of its style, more than counterbalance the, if any, superior grace and lightness of the other. In the evening we walked out to the west, in the hope of catching a good view of the cathedral, but we could not find the right place. Amiens has nothing else remarkable which fell under our observation.

Saturday, July 26.—After breakfast we went to the cathedral, and passed over all the galleries inside and outside, and the roofs. The best external view from the building itself is on the north tower; the arcs boutants of the choir and the whole arrangement are much more striking than those of the nave. The guide, a very intelligent man, assured us there was no danger apprehended within or without to any part of the building. As far as M. and I could judge, we thought it would last as easily for the next 500 years as it had gone through the last. The view through the eight compartments of the upper chamber of the central clocher is pretty; it seems to fit into so many frames the city and the vast plain in which it stands. We saw the towers of Corbie. In the inside I noticed four particulars of its great superiority, over and above the unequalled proportions of the whole.

1st, The triforium and its windows, especially of the choir; these windows commence on the east side of the transept. In the rest there are arches, which have been filled up with masonry from the beginning. I think this triforium superior to that of St. Ouen, chiefly from the geometric character of its forms; whereas those of St. Ouen approach to the perpendicular. Each bay has six divisions, save the five of the apse, which have four.

2nd, The windows of the clerestory, all of pure geometric tracery. I measured one on the south side of the nave, nineteen feet three inches wide, clear light.

3rd, The north transept end. A rosace above, of most brilliant glass, thirty-six feet in diameter; open gallery of fifteen divisions.

4th, The whole arrangement of the aisles round the choir. There are open chapels north and south, extending the whole four bays of the choir, which give great lightness to it; while the seven arches of the apse correspond to as many chapels. The Lady Chapel is beautiful, though not so much developed as that of St. Ouen.

By the advice of the guide we went down to the river, immediately to the north of the cathedral; from the other side of which, by a little tree in front of a house painted green, is, perhaps, the best external view of the whole mass from east to west. Even here, however, almost all the windows of the aisles are covered by houses; on another branch of the river, a little further north, rather more of these is discovered. The near view from the extreme corner of the bishop's garden is good; and the corresponding one to the south-east, as far back as the street will allow, rather better. This gives the beauty of the east end. But no complete view of this wonderful building outside can be obtained, from the closeness of the houses; and that which would be the grandest ornament of the finest city in the world cannot even be seen in its full proportions.

The vaulting of Amiens is 140 feet (English) high; the ridge of the roof outside reaches to nigh 200. Its internal and external galleries must be traversed before the spectator can estimate the enormous pile of masonry which that fabric contains. It can only be matched, I think, by Milan. Amiens is only 442 feet in length, including the Lady Chapel. In this also the French architects have shown great skill, for an excess in this respect would have diminished the great effect produced by their stupendous height. York or Canterbury would be dwarfed beside Amiens, though the former exceeds it by 82 feet, and the latter by 88 feet in length. But the height of the vaulting of Canterbury nave is 80 feet, of York 99, of Amiens 140. It is a sad result of a visit to the French cathedrals, that the Englishman must be content to recognise ever after the immense inferiority of his own in the one characteristic feature of Christian architecture, elevation. A noble race of men they must have been, and not of the tiger-monkey kind, who had hearts to conceive and hands to execute such works as these. Overflowing with inward life must the Church have been, who could impress such a character on her sons. Here, indeed, may the Churchman feel, "He built His sanctuary like high palaces; like the earth which He hath established for ever." Those were the ages of faith, hope, and love; it would be well if the life which glowed in those mediÆval bosoms manifested itself by works in ours.

"Amiens. Feast of St. James, 1845.—I do not intend to say much about things in general, but as you have touched on them, I do say a few words. I am, I may say, fully convinced that neither the worship of saints, nor the use of images, nor the withholding of the cup, at all affect the life of the Roman Church. What I have seen has led me to reflect bitterly on Mr. Bowdler's 'Quid RomÆ faciam?' The answer is, all that you try in vain to do in England. For, in sober truth, he has only told us that what exists there in practice exists with us in theory. However, I agree with him that it is our duty to put it in practice at home. But, how to get ecclesiastics to live in primitive brotherhood and in primitive poverty? How to bring people to confession? How to induce candidates for holy orders to submit to education? How to get the opportunity of restoring the daily sacrifice? How to warm our churches with devotion, so that people may come in, and be cheered and helped in their prayers, &c.? These are questions to which he has supplied no answer, and the answer is not easy. It requires every allowance for the reserved and retiring character of the English to hope that we are not, even in comparison with the French, a fallen people. Still, were it not for one person who thinks otherwise, I should view our failings calmly, as a mere hindrance to be surmounted, and even take easily the painful separation there is between us and so much that I must admire, considering it as the result of an over-technical system on the one side, and an unformed one on the other—a result that would vanish as the one grew in life and the other in consistency."—M.

We determined to leave this evening, that we might secure an early passage from Boulogne on Monday morning. So at half-past-five we took the diligence to Abbeville. It is an unusually pleasant drive thither, partly by the river side, well wooded, a good road, and occasionally diversified. We even went by one country house which had a fine flower garden and lawn, and might have passed for English. It was so unusually neat and nicely kept, that I inquired if it was a private house. We had the coupÉ with a French gentleman, with whom I had considerable talk. He was a fair representant of the tone of mind produced by the first revolution; spoke with enthusiasm of the military and naval establishments of France, the accomplishments required of all officers, the preference given to pure merit, the equality which subsisted in all the relations of Frenchmen; contrasted his own country in these respects with ours. He claimed the full possession of liberty, which I denied to them; but I fully admitted the passion for equality and the existence of it. I observed that, by their law of inheritance, they had destroyed all equilibrium in the state, all power but the central power of the government, which was continually increasing. He spoke with passionate fondness of the late Duke of Orleans, that he had a marvellous gift of speaking, attached every body to him, was exceedingly brave and able every way. I asked if he thought Louis Philippe had contrived the revolution. He said he could not acquit him as to that. The whole of his family were patterns to France, whereas, he said, the Duke de Berri was a beast, an animal. He seemed to think there would be attempts on Louis Philippe's death, but they would not succeed; the country generally was well satisfied with his rule. He defended the system of passports as admirable, but when at Abbeville his own was kept some time being deciphered he waxed impatient. He defended the conscription too, and abused the construction of our army; nothing but the firmness of the English character produced good soldiers out of such materials. He seemed to think all property in England descended to the eldest son, and abused our horrible aristocracy. I said the old Saxon blood loved an aristocracy and would always have it.

We reached Abbeville just after dark, got some coffee, and rested a few hours at the Hotel d'Angleterre. At half-past-two the diligence from Paris took us up, and landed us at Boulogne between nine and ten. A fine rich country all along, but with nothing remarkable, except perhaps the site of Montreuil, a brow something like Windsor.

Sunday, July 27.—Went to the British Chapel, in the Rue du Temple—a miserable meeting-house begalleried all round, with one pulpit for the prayers and another for the sermon, flanking a table in the midst. The reading and the preaching quite in correspondence. Indeed the sermon, which was without book, was one of the most extraordinary productions I ever heard: its tone may be imagined, from the speaker calling our Lord "King of Kings, and Lord of Lords—and Emperor of Emperors." "What was half an hour to speak of immortal things to an immortal soul!" The chapel was very full of well-dressed people, whose demeanour was as little religious as can be conceived; but they were bidden to beware of the superstition of the Roman Church, and of the seductions to the animal nature which it afforded. Later we walked into the upper town, and, after dinner, along the sands, and over the cliffs home. But the view of Boulogne on every side is dreary and wretched; and I should never stay there an hour longer than was necessary. We were at l'HÔtel de l'Europe—civil people, and excellent table d'hÔte.

Monday, July 28.—At six this morning we left Boulogne, and crossed to Folkstone in two hours and five minutes; a very fast vessel. We breakfasted at the hotel near the beach, got through the custom house rather quickly, were ready for the half-past-nine train, and in London shortly after one o'clock. M. and I called on E. Hawkins and Acland, and then went down to Eton, and I home to Launton.