responsible for himself and his dependants, in no the books themselves, and proceed to the long time has to pay for his weakness by losing parishi-clerk-and-singers' misery. Our own the esteem and affection of his whole parish. Réaume, p. 202.

Valerius, seeing the unhappy result of this case, establishes in his parsonage, not a sister, but a niece; her he thinks he can keep in order, and in her proper place. But very soon the young Agnes displays her childish tastes by filling the house with litter; she has a host of winged and four-footed pets, which give it quite the smell of a wild-beast show. Worse and worse she grows fond of dress, and the neighbors discover why; there are stolen interviews, and scandalous consequences. Poor Valerius receives a letter from his bishop, which startles him like a clap of thunder; he is removed to another parish; but the misconduct of his niece cleaves to the walls of the old parsonage, and affects the estimation of his successors. All this is spoken of as an every-day case; and M. Réaume spends a page or two in showing that nothing else could have been expected! -(pp. 203-6.)

On no account must a curé treat his relations as his relations-introduce them, ask them to dinner, or anything of the sort - (p. 207). And, for the sake of appearances, he must never be seen walking with a sister or a niece, unless their age be such as to put them beyond suspicion; for who is to know the relationship? (p. 207.)

clerks are rather apt to be in arrear of the age; but the mumpsimus of their French brethren has a sway very different from anything known on this side of the Channel.

servants

Réaume), the curé has also clerks In addition to the schoolmaster (says M. attached to his church; and this part of his flock is not the easiest to manage, especially in the neighborhood of Paris. In the first place, these men are usually destitute of faith and of real feelings of religion; in the second place, they are slenderly paid, and fancy, in consequence, that they have at least the right to be insolent. Add to this, that, like all ignorant people, they are obstinate, very much attached to old practices, and that the smallest reform, the slighest novelty, stirs them up to revolt. Many curés fail, as to this article, in two essential points; first, in allowing, through indolence or incapacity, these encroaching gentry to take too little address and politeness. It is, therethe command; secondly, in treating them with fore, very important that the curé should be a man of order, exact in his duties, and well up in the rubrics; otherwise the old clerk-who already fancies himself a sort of marvel - will not fail to laugh maliciously at every blunder, to catch it up, and to give out that he is in the habit of directing the curé, who does not know Those who think to carry his business. themselves with dignity by assuming a haughty tone, majestic airs, harsh and imperious language towards the servants of their church, do This brings us to a somewhat curious point. not keep them at a distance, but hurt and proFrench writers of the High Church school are conceive an implacable hatred against the clerThen they desert the church, and fond of talking about the prodigious impres-gyman. Why not manage their self-conceit? sions supposed to have been made on the Adroit curates contrive to get rid of the most English mind by the virtues of the emigrant mutinous by making sacrifices of minor imporclergy in the end of the last century; indeed, tance to them, managing them, even petting it is now quite a settled belief with such them, until they can provide for themselves elsewriters, that the spectacle of those clergy was a main cause of the conversions to Romanism which began in England fifty years later! M. Réaume lays this down at page 22; and if asked in what the impressiveness of the emigrés consisted, he would, no doubt (like Joseph le Maistre, in his treatise Du Pape), put their celibacy prominently forward. But both he and M. Dubois prove only too clearly that in France itself the celibacy of the clergy is not generally respected- that popular opinion will not give them credit for innocence in any sort of intercourse with the other sex. Where the fault may lie we do not pretend to say; but the fact deserves notice.

voke them.

where. It is very disgraceful to see sometimes flunkey quarrels (querelles de laquais) between the cure and the servants of the church, to see discussions proceed to violence and fisticuffs. Can the curé ever be excusable in such scenes? pp. 215–217.

M. Réaume is decidedly against the clergyman's asking his clerks or singers to his table. Rather give them money, he says; or, if the custom of feeding them be too strong to bear abolition, try to draw the schoolmaster into your plans; let the banquet, although at your expense, be at his house; and do not appear at it except in order to drop a few patronizing and friendly words. (p. 216.)

From housekeepers, both our authors go on Next follow the relations with the civil to treat of schoolmasters and schoolmistresses. authorities. The English parson may someThe relation of the clergy to teachers' appointed times find his squire rather troublesome; but and paid by the state is, however, a subject the territorial potentate is, at the very worst, which at present can hardly be mentioned nothing to the French misery of the official among ourselves without danger of a tempest. mairc. "The mayor and the curé," says We therefore refer such of our readers as may M. Réaume, "are the two great powers of wish to know how things work in France to the parish." They are, in short, emperor

Of higher society (we are told) there are M. Dubois, too, has a good deal to say as to three kinds (1) the pious, who are hardly the manner in which ladies are apt to take up to be met with; (2) the decent, church- the time of their pastors under pretence of going people, whose religion goes no further; spiritual things:

and (3) the irreligious. The second kind What is it that we do in our conversations with must be managed with care. There are in it them? The truth must be owned; for the most a great number of retired traders-purso- part, there is nothing in these long communica

tions but an exchange of childish and trifling
chit-chat; we tell each other the small news of
the place; we let certain railleries of this and
that person
more or less highly seasoned
cscape us; we allow ourselves pleasantries and
out-pourings of gayety which suit but ill with
priestly gravity; in short, we pass an hour, or
perhaps two, in hearing, or in uttering, a multi-
tude of little nothings. If, sometimes, a pious

conference is set on foot, then there are long lamentations, piteous jeremiads, which a good soul pours into her director's ears, in order to tell him what he knows so well, since she says nothing else to him at confession to wit, that she is overwhelmed with distractions - that she cannot pray, that she knows not how to escape from the spiritual dryness which causes her to groan so much, &c. So many useless complaints, or, rather, so many pious pretexts for allowing herself the satisfaction of talking an hour or two, about herself to her director! - Dubois, pp. 265, 266.

and ought not to have any place among the works of a saintly priest.- Dubois, pp. 373, 374.

Dubois is

Thus far the abbé has been speaking of letters which he classes as useless; but beyond this there is a class of dangerous letters. Some of the circumstances which make them dangerous may readily be conceived, and M. very explicit on the manoeuvres by which young women draw the clergy into correspondence, the vanity which prompts such attempts, and the ruinous consequences which sometimes ensue. There is, however, one of his dangers which we should hardly have expected to find set down as such by an ecclesiastic of Cardinal Wiseman's communion the risk that a priest, after directing a rich and elderly lady, should find himself handsomely remembered in her will! (p. 377.). Returning to M. Réaume, we pass over his discourse on behavior to children, and find

One favorite snare is to draw the priest into him resume the Chesterfield in those chapters a spiritual correspondence:

name

which relate to VISITS (xlii., xliv.). A curé, on reaching his parish, must call on all the Must we, then, absolutely refuse to females notable persons in it; first on the mayor, then the advantage of direction by means of correon the master manufacturer (if there be one, spondence? Experience has so often shown the uselessness of it, that we should be at first twelve to four or five o'clock. You must be we presume). Calls may be made from tempted to answer in the affirmative. As, how-in full costume; if people are out, leave your ever, every rule has its exception, we shall say that it is well, as a general principle, not to - if on a card, so much the better. keep up such correspondences with females, and But some people are pertinaciously "not at that, in order to establish an exception (1) home" to the poor curé; and others, if they they must no longer be young; (2) they must let him in, behave rudely to him, and do not not be under the power of a husband, unless, give him the place of honor to sit down in; indeed, he be aware of this direction, and sanc-of such cross-grained customers you must tion it; (3) they must be very prudent and dis- make the best you can. When you enter a creet; (4) they must have sound sense and good drawing-room, perform a modest and easy judgment; (5) they must not be fussy, punctilious, salutation, or half-bow, gracefully holding and of inexhaustible verbosity; (6, and finally,) your hat in your left hand, while your right they must sincerely desire to convert their defects, is laid on your breast-after the manner of to acquire virtues, and to go on without abate-the eagle protesting to Daniel O'Rourke, ment unto perfection. - Dubois, pp. 370, 371.

But these conditions are seldom united, and where they are the director must take care not to let his fair penitents draw him into a labyrinth of letters. He must beg them to be short; he must set them the example; and if they grow copious, his brevity must increase as their length. After months and years (M. Dubois supposes) —after floods of correspondence - there will most likely be no discernible improvement in the penitent. Would it not, therefore, he asks, have been vastly better for the priest if he had spent his time in making sermons, or in some other pastoral occupations? (pp. 371-3.)

Often, too, these persons wish to make themselves interesting; their self-esteem is flattered by the thought, that a priest, one whom, moreover, they sometimes see sought after in rather high quarters, thinks of them in the Divine ence, actively busies himself in the sanctification of their souls, and does for them what he would not do for a multitude of others. All this feeds vanity, does no good, swallows up precious time,

pres

66

pon the honor of a gentleman," —or, at the least, bend your arm into a right angle. In speaking to ladies of condition, preface your "How d'ye do?" with "I have the honor to present to you my respectful homages." Hold your hat on your knees while sitting. At the end of the call replace your chair where it stood when you entered; bow to the ladies; make a second reverence at the door of the room, and a third to the last person who is concerned in seeing you out.

The rules for calling are succeeded by a code for receiving calls. To us dull islanders, who tax ourselves with stupidity for drawing our topics of conversation so largely from the weather, it is truly a comfort to find the abbé recommending "the rain, the fine weather, the heat, the cold, and other suchlike nothings," as a great resource. (p. 300.) Never yawn on your visitors, howEmbrace your ever wearisome they may be. intimates in the priesthood, but you need not extend this to the whole fraternity.

You, Maximus, entertain a tender friendship | put your knife into your mouth. If you for me, and I am obliged to you for it; but might it not be less expansive? Should I believe in it less if you were to cease from throttling me at every meeting, from hugging me, from all but suffocating me by the excess of your delight? As I do not positively exact that you should wash your face every morning, and should deprive yourself of your beloved dust, of which the effects are often unpleasant, pray oblige me as little as possible to submit to the petty inconveniences which arise from this state of things. Réaume, pp. 302, 303.

have

to cut bread for your neighbors or yourself, wipe your knife on your napkin, not on the bread itself; and take care not to cut the napkin. It is not good manners to take up a bone with your fingers and pick it. You must not ask to be helped a second time from any dish, nor even accept the offer of a second plateful, unless where you are quite at home. Don't crack nuts with your teeth, nor eat too much dessert. Toothpicks, once proscribed, are now in common use; but do not, on any account, pick your teeth with your knife or your nails. Avoid dinners at which there is singing, for who can tell what the words may be? Eschew also those which wind up with a ball. Do not the Councils of Agde and Laodicea condemn such things?

But now comes the curate's own dinner. Our Chesterfield is transformed into a Soyer, or an Original Walker. Elegance combined with economy is to be the rule. Parsonages (we hear with more regret than surprise) have no good name for cleanliness (p. 336); let it be otherwise in yours. Don't ask your betters to dine unless you can afford to entertain them well. Here is a sketch of the dinner which Perpetua may get up-(we leave it in the original language, since even the Lord Mayor has his carte in French):

Chapters xlv. and xlvi. of the Guide treat of Dining-out. Invitations are either verbal or written. If you feel that you are not asked with that amount of ceremony which is due to your dignity, make an evasive answer "You are very kind - I will do all I can' and don't go. Some young people, inexperienced in the hollowness of the world, are fresh enough to take literally such phrases as" You will always find a knife and fork ;' but the readers of Réaume will know better than to fall into this trap. (p. 310.) Dining in the country is not so ceremonious as in towns. In towns you go to the house a quarter of an hour before the time named, arrayed in your very best. Your hands must be cleaner than usual, and nevertheless must be gloved as you enter the drawing-room. Your dress and shoes ought also to be very clean; Hors d'œuvre boeuf, avec un ou deux plats although in the country a little mud may be d'entrée, un roti, avec un ou deux plats d'enexcused. Places at table are assigned ac-tremets, salade et enfin dessert, selon la saison cording to the quality of the guests; and a et les ressources du pays, de quatre ou cinq curé is bound to stickle for his dignity. He assiettes. p. 334. may give way to the mayor, if his worship be the elder, and anything like a gentleman; but if he find himself thrust down below his proper place, he may do like an ecclesiastic who, in such circumstances, sat down, and talked to the delight of all around him, but did not taste bit or drop, or even unfold his napkin. If the lady of the house be old, and have difficulty in walking, a priest may offer her his arm in going to the dining-room; but in other cases he would raise a general titter by attempting to act the cavalier.

It is no longer the fashion to tuck the end of your napkin under your neckcloth or through your button-hole. Soup is eaten with a spoon alone; don't blow on it by way of cooling it(Esop might teach you thus much); don't swill it from your plate, nor pour the last drops into your spoon. Don't throw your broken scraps of meat and vegetables on the floor. Don't sponge up your gravy with bread at a grand dinner - (you may, we presume, on less solemn occasions). If a lady offer you anything, say, "I have the honor to thank you." Take care to sit in such a way as not to drop soup or sauce on your cassock. Cut your meat neatly, without splashing your neighbors, and use your fork as a Frenchman ought to use it. Don't

When we go to Mitry, we shall be very happy to eat such a dinner, accompanied by the good wines which our friend promises; but we trust that he will not think it necessary to do us the honor of asking the worshipful the mayor, or even the unwashed and odorous confrères, Salvian and Maximus, to meet us.

We omit, with regret, the directions for carving (p. 377), and, skipping over some other matters, we come to a chapter " Of Indiscretions" (liv.). It is indiscreet to take a dog to call with you; to let dogs or other animals run about your own house, and annoy your visitors; to touch ornaments in a drawing-room, or flowers in a garden. An ecclesiastic ought not to offer nosegays to young ladies, nor to hold such vanities in his hand. It is dangerous to be familiar with children, for there is no knowing what things they may say to compromise your dignity. Do not touch or pull about the person with whom you are talking. Don't ask people what their income is what their kin nor what kind of house they have. If they are deformed, squinting, blind, or dwarfish, do not tell them 80; neither, in speaking to mammas, remark such defects in their offspring.

On the subject of Games and Diversions,

M. Réaume is perhaps somewhat more toler-, garded by English churchmen, not with any ant than our own writers De Sacerdotio. reciprocal unkindness, but with a mixture of Games suitable for the clergy, he says, are astonishment and sorrow. From these books, cards, dominos, billiards, chess, draughts. however, we learn things which go far to exA clergyman ought not to play for large plain the behavior which appeared so unacstakes; most of the order are, indeed, ex- countable- and some way to excuse it. We cluded from the temptation of high play by a trace it to the insecurity of position which cause which may easily be divined. Neither the clergy of France have felt to their conmust he play with low people, such as gar-sciousness that, except by flattering the mania deners, vine-dressers, and the like, although of the hour, they had no chance of holding priests have, ere now, been known to do so. their ground-for their state of subjection to Our author does not hesitate to say, that public opinion, and the unmercifulness of that play is one of the occasions on which men opinion, are things of which we in England show themselves with least disguise,' 99 - even could have no idea. We trace it to the naras the future gentle Archbishop of Canter- row education which unfits the mass of the bury knocked the future wit of St. Paul's clergy for seeing anything beyond that which down with the chess-board at Winchester seems to be the immediate advantage of their school. "I suppose, ,"concludes the abbé, church; to the absence of that spirit of inde"that it is superfluous to recommend the pendence and sturdy uprightness which gives most scrupulous honesty and delicacy." respectability even to the crotchets and to the (p. 417.) But if it were so entirely superflu- sulks of some whom we could name among ous, why say even one word about it? ourselves. And that spirit, we conceive, is something that is not to be learnt from the pages of Messrs. Réaume and Dubois valuable as these may be for the direction of the French clergy in washing their faces, disposing of their hands, behaving at meals, and managing their glances.

Lastly, M. Réaume treats of Letters, and lays down curious etiquettes as to the right sorts of paper to be used in addressing the different orders of men- -the right way of folding and sealing it the right manner of address, and the proprieties of matter and style.

Our readers will probably by this time agree with us, that if any French Eachard should undertake to inquire into "The Grounds and Occasions of the Contempt of the Clergy," some of them would be nowise difficult to discover. In truth, Messrs. Dubois and Réaume carry us back considerably beyond the state of things which Mr. Macaulay has represented in his well-known picture of English clerical life under Charles II. Of the faithfulness of that picture we do not wish at present to speak. But if our own clergy of the seventeenth century were all that Mr. Macaulay has represented, the French clergy of the nineteenth have no reason to court a comparison with them. Even marriage with Abigail might be less intolerable than slavery under Perpetua.

We shall not recapitulate the evidence which has been given in the preceding pages; but we wish, in conclusion, to point out the illustration thrown by these deplorable details on the conduct of the French clergy during the last five years. We have seen them flattering every power which these years of agitation have in turn thrown uppermost; one day capering around trees of liberty and blessing them; another day hailing, in language equally fulsome and profane, the suppressor, not only of revolutionary disorder, but of real liberty itself. And, fond as the French ultramontane party is of bespattering the Engliah church with ignorant and absurd expressions of scorn, derived from such witnesses as Cobbett and The Tablet, its own late political conduct has, we believe, been generally re

One of the books before us was published only last year; but already, within the first three months of the present year, we read of great changes as to religion in France. Never, it is said, were the Holy Week and Easter kept with such exhibitions of devotion; the infidel parish schoolmaster has given way to the Frère Chrêtien; and already people are sentenced to six months' imprisonment for presenting themselves at the altar without previous confirmation and confession.* We think, however, that the evidence of Messrs. Dubois and Réaume proves the existence of disorders too deep to be healed by a devotion so recent and so showy as to have very much the appearance of a passing fashion. But if the French clergy are really becoming powerful, this same evidence would be enough, even without the significant bit of discipline which we have just mentioned, to warrant very serious uneasiness as to the probable effect of entrusting power to such hands.

Since this paper was written, we have seen an article in the Edinburgh Review for April, on "The Church of England in the Mountains." In so far as the position of the Welsh and Cambrian clergy resembles that of the French, the reviewer's statements and opinions run parallel with our own; but there is this important difference between the cases - that the degradation of the clergy in France is recent, while in our own mountain districts things have never been any better, and an improvement is now in progress.

* Guardian newspaper, March 23 and 31, 1853.