Dined with M. Martin de Noirlieu. He said the archbishop's death had been an époque for the Church. His funeral was a real triumphal procession, such as France had not seen since the great revolution. Seven hundred priests took part in it. His body was borne uncovered. Every one, especially the military, pressed to touch it, so that the white gloves and stockings became quite black. An intense feeling had been excited by his sacrifice: the people had never been so well disposed to the Church. It looked to the priests now for comfort and support, and had confidence in them. He saw daily the effects of this in his parish. He had been treated with more respect to-day than he had ever known before. A movement towards religion was certainly begun in France, which must go on; it would require time, but it would spread wide. Catholicism was still a power in France; and, what was very certain, it must be either this or nothing. There was no inclination to Protestantism. Some Protestant ministers wished to bless the trees of liberty, but the people would not hear of it. "Who are you?" they said; "we want the priests of Pie Neuf." He said the republic was hated and could not last: already Henri Cinq was in many mouths. What was very remarkable in the archbishop's death was, that he was not at all likely to have done such a thing. It was not in his character. He had a great dread of death. At twelve o'clock on the Sunday he had not thought of it: he then hastily dined and set off with his vicars general to M. Cavaignac. The enthusiasm which his presence everywhere produced was wonderful. The soldiers rendered him martial honours by a spontaneous feeling, and the people knelt for his blessing. That passage on foot was a triumphal march. In the midst of his agony he said, "Eloignez vous, mes amis; je ne vous édifie pas." M. de Noirlieu and his brother, a young priest, asked many questions about the movement in England. The view he had taken was, that Puseyism would lay hold of many Catholic truths which it found in antiquity, such as the sacrifice of the Mass, but would not admit that extension of power which was now claimed for the Pope. He observed, however, that those who went over took the most extreme line of Ultra-Montanism. The appointment of Hampden must have done us much injury. I observed that among them the Church was working under such oppression that anything but Catholicism would be destroyed by it. For instance, in every commune the schoolmaster, generally a person without faith, is set up by the government as an antagonist to the priest. The attempt to make education a mere affair of the state was thoroughly anti-christian. He agreed that it was only the "sêve intarissable" of Catholicism, ever mounting up afresh, which kept them alive. M. de Noirlieu has juster notions of the English Church, and makes larger allowances in favour of our state, than any other ecclesiastic I have met.
Monday, August 7.—I was at Notre Dame by half past eight, for the ceremony in honour of the archbishop. The church became gradually very crowded. I was in time to get a seat very near the pulpit. Mass began at ten. Most of the clergy of Paris were present; some representatives; the Cardinal de la Tour d'Auvergne, a venerable old man of 80, who officiated; the Bishop of Langres; and the Bishop of Quimper. Just before eleven M. L'abbé Cœur began his funeral oration, which lasted two hours and forty-three minutes. When about half over, the poor old cardinal, who, of course, was fasting, could hold out no longer; he was obliged to go out, and finished the Mass in silence in the choir, while the sermon continued. Thus its inordinate length broke the order of the service. The preacher was not without merit, but his delivery was very bad, and he was obliged continually to spit; an operation which would come on in the middle of a sentence, and was once repeated six times in the most disagreeable manner. The eloquence of Demosthenes himself could not have sustained such an interruption; and I could not help wishing that the Père Lacordaire, whom I saw present, had been in his place. The sermon contained a sketch of the life and labours of the archbishop, especially praising his simplicity, learning, courage, complete independence of state or personal interests. That he had fully understood the mission of the Church in these latter times, to consummate the alliance between religion and his country. He had it much at heart to form in the Ancienne Maison des Carmes, rendered so illustrious by the blood of martyrs in 1792, a new school of prophets, eminent at once for science, piety, and courage. He was a great encourager of learning in the clergy. Their efforts in behalf of "la liberté d'enseignement," would be the honour of the French episcopate in the eyes of posterity. The archbishop was powerful in his life, but much more so in his death. His death was the real apology of the sacerdoce, which had been attacked. It could not be defended by books; it required a martyrdom: "le martyre est un grand maître de la raison; il ne discute pas, il montre." A hundred years of teaching could not have proved what his blood shed in the Faubourg S. Antoine had established. Nor was his death brought about by an "entrainement du caractère: c'est l'apologie du sacerdoce et du Christianisme." The preacher dwelt at great length on the "new times,"—that the Church was essentially indifferent to all governments: it was the life of humanity. He then gave a Christian explanation of liberty, equality, fraternity; and finished with an address to the archbishop: they did not believe that he needed their prayers, which, however, they would offer for him.
This sermon, besides its inordinate length, was deficient in connection and choice of subjects: it was far too general. Had it been well delivered, parts would have been very interesting; but, considering that the occasion was quite unique—the death of an archbishop and martyr—it must be considered a failure. I was more than five hours and a half in Notre Dame.
Went to M. des Billiers, who conducted me to the Couvent des Oiseaux, for the Supérieure of which le Père de Ravignan had given me a letter. The Sisters of Notre Dame were founded by the Bienheureux Fourrier, for the purpose of educating. But their houses, though conducted on the same principles, are independent. This is of very great extent,—has a very handsome chapel, with oak fittings, and a rich marble altar; a very costly library, including a large collection of engravings of different schools, museum of natural history, and every thing which can contribute to the ordinary education of young ladies. Nothing that I have seen in Paris interested me more than this house; nor was I ever more struck with the advantages which la vie de communauté presents. There are here, between mères and sœurs, 116 religieuses, who are occupied in directing the education of 240 girls; at least, there were this number before the events of February: there are at present only 50; but it is just before the vacation, and a large number have been withdrawn, either from the fears of their parents, or their inability, since those events, to pay the pension. They employ, besides, sixteen masters, for music, languages, &c. The terms are 1800 francs a-year. There are one hundred pianos in the house, and every thing that I saw was on a like scale of abundance and richness. They attend Mass daily. We went to a Benediction in the chapel; and after this the aumonier conducted us all over the house,—the class-rooms, dortoirs, garden, &c. A religieuse sleeps in each dortoir; the beds have not even curtains, so that there is the most perfect surveillance. A pupil is never left with a master alone, but one of the sisters is present at the lessons. No private establishment could possibly compete with this: three millions of francs, the almoner told us, had been laid out upon it, first and last; every thing is done for the pupils by the religieuses, nor have they any servants, save for the garden. They give, besides, instruction gratuitously to a large number of poor children, separately from their pensionnaires. The almoner told us he gave two instructions to the upper, and two to the lower classes, every week. He had got together an immense collection of maps and engravings, a volume for each department of France, in order that the pupils might have pictures of all that was described to them; for which he quoted to me—
"Segnius irritant animos demissa per aures,
Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus."
The great extent of this house, the number of the rooms, the perfection of all its accommodations, astonished me. The number of teachers, in comparison to the taught, is far beyond anything we have; not less difference is there in the pains taken with their religious instruction, and the moral surveillance exercised over them. But the most pleasing thought of all was, that personal interest was not the prime agent, nor an agent at all in this. These nuns acquire nothing from their pupils personally: the house, it is true, is necessarily supported by the pensions; but all that remains goes to the instruction of the poor, or the decoration of the chapel, or the advantage of future generations of scholars in the accommodations of the house. The teachers do not get rich upon the taught, not to speak of the poor who are instructed gratuitously at the same time. The number of persons engaged allows of the greatest attention being paid to any individual case requiring it, and the primum mobile is charity. How great the superiority in all points of view to any private establishment. Gain entering in changes the motive of all this: from a work of love, it becomes a profession; self-sacrifice vanishes, as personal interest appears. They have English and Irish pupils here, as well as of other nations: even some Protestants. The garden is quite sufficient for all purposes of recreation. The age of the pupils ranges from ten to eighteen or twenty. Some remain till they marry.
Accompanied M. Bonnetty to Lady —— in the evening.
Tuesday, August 8.—My visit to the Couvent des Oiseaux yesterday sharpened me for that to the Dames du Sacré Cœur to-day. Le Père de Ravignan had given me a note to Madame D'Avenas. We had a great deal of talk with her, which not unfrequently took a controversial turn; and she seemed particularly well informed on such points. The congregation of Sacré Cœur was only founded, she told us, in 1800; they now have about fifty houses in France, three in Rome, others in Piemont (lately sequestrated by the state), in the United States, one at Acton, near London,—in all, about seventy. At eighteen they may commence a noviciate, which lasts two years: they can then take the vows for five years: at the end of which time, being of twenty-five years at least, they can, if they please, take the final and irrevocable vows. There are one hundred Sisters in this house, which is the old palace of the Ducs de Biron, in the Rue de Varennes, having a garden of immense extent behind it. Their scholars, before the events of February, amounted to 160: all is done for them by the sisters, who have no servants, except for the garden. They have masters for the different arts: the pension, exclusive of these masters, is 1000 francs. The Supérieure Générale of all these seventy houses resides here. They are founded uniquely for education. Some of the class-rooms are very magnificent—the old reception rooms of the palace. But, generally speaking, the house is not equal in its extent or fitting up to Les Oiseaux; but the garden is far more extensive. Madame D'Avenas walked over it with us; and amid its groves one can hardly believe that one is in Paris. Both Madame D'Avenas and M. des Billiers attacked me on the state of separation of the English Church, and the schism it had thereby incurred: this, I said, depended on the degree to which the Papal claim is true.
Called on M. ——, who gave me a deplorable account of the state of things here: that the chiefs of the party for the République Rouge—Louis Blanc, Caussidiere, and Ledru Rollin—were supported by General Cavaignac secretly: that the rapport just given to the Assemblée had re-awakened the most furious passions, and that a fresh insurrection might break out at any time.