while they continued to make the camp the school of moral instruction for the French youth, and suffered the clergy to remain in a state of wretched impoverishment, and ignominious dependence on the civil functionaries, it was in vain to expect that religion could regain her influence over a population whose corruption so many powerful causes conspired to increase.

In the interior of the country, the peasantry go to church with some regularity, but are, in every other respect, insensible to the obligations of their religion, and to the authority of their teachers. In the provincial cities, and particularly in the seaport towns, the cause of infidelity has many more proselytes than that of the gospel, and the clergy are held in open derision. The state of public morals generally, is but little, if at all, improved. There is more hypocrisy than heretofore, and a very small increase of Christianity. I am, indeed, firmly persuaded, that the system of Buonaparte has, by its demoralizing effects, more than counterbalanced all the benefits, which the efforts of the clergy, and the authorization of public worship, tended to produce. The people of France are, perhaps, at this moment more inveterately corrupt, more incurably irreligious, than they were in the year 1800.

In Paris, there is not a symptom of religious faith among the opulent classes, or the youth of any description. The churches, which I attended assiduously, were frequented only by women and children, and some few of the poorer orders. During the holy week, two sermous were delivered every day, at each of the great churches, by the most celebrated preachers of the capital. I visited them all in rotation, with the view of ascertaining the influence of religion over the public mind, and of forming a judg ment concerning the pulpit oratory of the capital. The congrega tions were more numerous, indeed, during this season, than I had before seen them, but the majority obviously consisted of the curious and the idle, who were attracted by the prospect of fine music, and a good discourse. Their exterior deportment was but little calculated to yield edification. The night service of the same season gave rise to orgies too shocking to be related, I recollect that it was mentioned, in one of the morning gazettes, as a curious fact, that a playhouse of Lyons had not been open for four days, during the holy week. On Good Friday, public concerts were given, with the epithet of spiritual,' but they had certainly much of the alloy of profane music, and were most profanely attended.

In most of the churches the religious rites are solemnized with very little parade. The sacristies were robbed, during the revolution, of the sumptuous ornaments with which they abounded. The means of the hierarchy, at this time, do not permit them to perform their worship even with the modest splendour, the unas

suming

suming state, the mild majesty, and sober pomp' which Mr. Burke so justly recommends as suitable and necessary for the public external observances of religion. The choirs, which chaunted 'the pealing anthem' with so much effect before the revolution, are entirely dissipated. It is at the cathedral of Nôtre Dame that the remains of the religious pomp of the old régime are collected and displayed on the great feasts of the calendar. The public functionaries usually attend on these occasions, and are regaled with music by some of the best performers, both vocal and instrumental, of the metropolis. They are followed by crowds, who, together with the official spectators, and the inhabitants of Paris generally, appear to regard the celebration of high mass in this way in the light of a theatrical representation. Even the dregs of the populace are fully aware of the political meaning of the ceremonial, and of the purposes to which the forms of religion are rendered subservient by the government. The degraded condition of the clergy is obvious to every eye, and robs them of the reverence which the nature of their functions usually awakens in the multitude, and without which, the ceremonies of worship, and the inculcations of the pulpit, are of but little avail.

The cathedral of Nôtre Dame is a noble Gothic monument, and, in itself, fitted, like the storms of winter, according to the poet, to exalt the soul to solemn thought, and heavenly musing.' Notwithstanding the chilling reflections which naturally arise out of the circumstances under which religious rites are now solemnized, the fancy of an American stranger must be powerfully excited, at the celebration of an high mass, in this majestic edifice, on the great festivals. The moss-grown domes, the longsounding aisles, and intermingled graves,'-the vast extent and imposing aspect of the interior,-the repercussion of the music from the fretted roof and arches the dim religious light,' shed through the painted glass of the windows,-the clouds of fragrance rolling from the censer,' chase away all consciousness of the present, and kindle the most solemn emotions of devotional awe. The Gothic edifices generally, and the old castles of Europe, exert an influence over the mind which no external object in our own country is calculated to produce. They carry the spectator back to the middle ages, and call up a train of those feudal and monastic visions, which, whether arising from this source, or from the descriptions of poetry, are, of all other images, the most delightful to a romantic imagination.

I should not omit to mention a singular Parisian custom or exhibition belonging to the holy week, which does not altogether harmonize with the sanctity of its character, or with the lessons of humility inculcated by the gospel. I allude to the parade of Long

champ;

champ; and, in order to give you a correct idea of it, must remount to its origin. About three miles from the capital, there is a wood, intitled the Bois de Boulogne, which, in good weather, is the morning ride of all those who have pretensions to the bon-ton. The Champs Elysées lead to it, and contribute to render it a delightful place of fashionable rendezvous. Isabella, the sister of St. Louis, founded, in the year 1260, at the end of the wood, a convent, which obtained the name of Long-champ, and in which several of the queens of France took their departure from this world. The inhabitants of the convent cultivated sacred music with particular care, and acquired so much reputation by their manner of chaunting the Tenebræ, that on the Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays of the holy week, the days devoted to these lugubrious airs, their little chapel became the resort of all the devout christians, and the ambitious dilettanti, of the capital.

be

The pilgrimage of Long-champ soon became universal; but the rich and the beautiful, instead of appearing in sackcloth and ashes, strove to outvie each other in the luxury of their dress, and the splendour of their equipages. The archbishop of Paris was at length scandalized by this unhallowed metamorphosis of a pious usage, into a feast of vanity, and therefore ordered the Tenebræ to sung with closed doors. The convent and the nuns have long since disappeared, but the promenade of Long-champ remains, and no small share of the savings of every class of society is allotted to the purchase of finery for the occasion. During several weeks previous, the invention of every milliner and coeffeur is upon the rack, in devising new fashions; every horse is put in requisition, and every private carriage undergoes a thorough repair.

Between two and three o'clock, on the days that I have mentioned, the whole world is in motion. All those who can afford to procure a vehicle, or a horse of any description, join the cavalcade, which begins at the entrance of the Champs Elysées. The whole affair consists simply, in going as far as the site of Long-champ, and then returning. The procession is regulated by the police, and the carriages are made to follow each other regularly, in a single line, which usually extends as far as the goal itself. They thus move on, at a slow pace, for four or five hours, while the footways and the adjacent avenues are crowded with the populace, dressed in their best suits. I happened, on one of these occasions, to be imprisoned in a carriage, and as the weather chanced to be very cold, rejoiced most heartily when I made my escape, notwithstanding the novelty and vivacity of the scene. The Parisians, particularly the lower orders, attach the highest importance to the amusements of the promenade of Long-champ, and it is not without interest for a stranger, not only on account of the singular groups which it

presents

presents to his eye, but also, as it enables him to judge of the whole wealth of Paris, in point of equipage. I was much disappointed in my expectations on this head. There were but few carriages of any beauty or magnificence in the procession, and numbers of an appearance so singularly mean and grotesque, as to beggar all description. The weekly exhibition of vehicles in Hyde-park is incomparably more splendid than the annual effort of Paris. Nothing, in fact, is better fitted to convey an adequate idea of the opulence of London, than the display of equipages in the Sunday promenades, or on the birth-day of the monarch.

I cannot say much in commendation of the pulpit eloquence of the French capital. The sermons which I heard from the mouths of the most celebrated preachers of the day, were of a very different character from those of Massillon, and Bourdaloue. Some of them, however, were not without merit, and, in a few instances, I had occasion to admire, both the strain of argument and the style of declamation. There can be, I think, no reflecting man who is not ready to acknowledge with Cowper, that,

The pulpit (in the sober use

Of its legitimate, peculiar pow'rs)

Must stand acknowledg'd, while the world shall stand,
The most important and effectual guard,

Support, and ornament, of virtue's cause.

The poet has qualified his encomium judiciously, by the words, of the passage I have quoted, which are included within a parenthesis. The pulpit in France does not merit this eulogy, because it is habitually forced to transcend its legitimate and peculiar powers,' and compulsorily perverted into an engine of state, to further the worst purposes of ambition and rapine. The preacher is not always the messenger of truth, and the legate of the skies. His of fice is not always sacred, nor his theme divine. He is forced to pronounce extravagant panegyrics on the most impious banditti, and the most criminal enterprizes, of which the records of history furnish any example; to hold a language equally at war with his own conscience, and the conviction of his auditory; to recommend, in every shape, the system of conscription and taxation;-the whole organization of violence and fraud, by which his wretched countrymen are overwhelmed in misery, and plunged deeper in corruption. The catechism which he is made to teach to the children of his parish, is, in that part which relates to Napoleon, an outrage both upon truth and reason, and little short of absolute blasphemy.*

The

*The following is an extract from the text taken from the second part, lesson VII.

• Deinande.

The ministers of the gospel are compelled to celebrate victories which are felt as a cruel scourge by France herself, no less than by the nations over whom they are gained;-to chaunt Te Deums, to praise God for his tender mercies, when new afflictions fall upon the people, and humanity bleeds at every pore.

For the truth of these assertions, I need only refer you to the files of the Moniteur, which contain the orders transmitted by the government to the several churches, and extracts from the various circular epistles of the bishops and consistories. Buonaparte, in reestablishing the altar, had solely in view the erection of a new prop for his military system; the formation of an instrument for political purposes. Religion, in his hands, has been uniformly, and is now, a mere tool of state;-a pageant to adorn his personal triumphs. The verification of this statement is to be found in the active subserviency to his political views, in which he has uniformly kept the ministers of religion, and in the situation in which he permits the temples of God to remain. During my residence in France, (and since then no material change, as I am well informed, has taken place,) the stipend of the country curates and the parochial clergymen generally, the most useful and important class for the purposes of religion,-was so small, as to be altogether insufficient for their subsistence. They were consigned over to the

Demande. Quels sont les devoirs des chrétiens à l'égard des princes qui les gouver nent, et quels sont en particulier nos devoirs envers Napoléon premier, notre Empereur? Réponse. Les chrétiens doivent aux princes qui les gouvernent, et nous devons en particulier à Napoléon 1er, notre Empereur, l'amour, le respect, l'obéissance, la fidélite, le service militaire, les tributs ordonnés pour la conservation et la défense de l'empire et de son trône; nous lui devons encore des prières ferventes pour son salut et pour la prospé rite spirituelle et temporelle de l'état.

D. Pourquoi sommes-nous tenus de tous ces devoirs envers notre Empereur?

R. C'est premièrement, parceque Dieu, qui crée les empires et les distribue selon sa volonté, en comblant notre Empereur de dons, soit dans la paix, soit dans la guerre, l'a établi notre souverain, l'a rendu le ministre de sa puissance et son image sur la terre. Honorer et servir notre Empereur est donc honorer et servir Dieu méme.

D. N'y a-t-il pas des motifs particulies qui doivent plus fortement nous attacher à Napoléon premier, notre Empereur?

R. Oui, car il est celui que Dieu a suscité dans les circonstances difficiles, pour réta blir le culte public de la religion sainte de nos pères, et pour en étre le protecteur. Il a ramené et conservé l'ordre public par sa sagesse profonde et active; il défend l'état par son bras puissant; car il est devenu l'oint du Seigneur par la consécration qu'il a reçu du souverain pontife, chef de l'église universelle.

'D. Que doit-on penser de ceux qui manqueraient à leur devoir envers notre Empe reur?

R. Selon l'apôtre Saint Paul, ils resisteraient à l'ordre établi de Dieu même, et se rendraient dignes de la damnation éternelle.

D. Les devoirs, dont nous sommes tenus envers notre Empereur, nous lieront-ils également envers ses successeurs légitimes dans l'ordre établi par les constitutious de l'empire?

R. Oui, sans doute; car nous lisons dans la sainte écriture, que Dieu, seigneur du ciel et de la terre, par une disposition de sa volonté supreme et par sa Providence, donne les empires, non seulement à une personne en particulier, mais aussi à sa famille,' &c.

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