Journal in France in 1845 and 1848 with Letters from Italy in 1847

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 Sœurs 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!