The Sun.
London, England, 1836-01-15 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

CHRISTIANITY.
Cochrane. London, 1836.
Christianity is the subject of a poem in three hooks,
written by the late William Burt, of Plymouth, and
now published, together with a short memoir of the
author, by his nephew, Major Seymour Burt. There
are many
able passages in the poem, which, if they do
not evince any lofty quality of imagination, at least
show a highly cultivated mind, and one impregnated
with the true religious spirit. The memoir is brief,
but pleasingly written.

.LTON'S POETICAL WORKS. PART IV.
Chur•ton. London, 1836.
This is the Fourth Part of Chtirton's British Poets,
which is proposed to be published in shilling Parts,
and illustrated by steel engravings from paintings by
Fuseli, Westall, and Martin. The present, which
comprises a portion of Milton's Paradise Lost, is a
very favourable specimen of the work, as respects both
print and embellishments.

THE MOTHER AT HOME.
BY JOILV ABBOTT.

THE CHILD AT HOME.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
London: Allan Bell and Co. 1836.
Mere are two neat little miniature volumes, not
bigger than the palm of one's hand, and yet they com-
prise the great leading principles of maternal and filial
duty, enforced with all the prudence of a philosopher
and all the piety of a true Christian. There are few
mothers who will find the little monitor intended for
their use unnecessary to them ; and we would advise
them, if they happen to be careless in the discharge
of their maternal duties, not to insult the growing un-
derstanding of their children, by a present which would
Open their eyes to the negligence of their parents.
The strict duties between parents and their offspring
are all reciprocalthe mother neglect th part which
Nature and Nature's God assigns to her,e she has no
right to expect obedience on the part of her child. On
the other hand, if the object of the mother be to fulfil
every obligation, which, as a parent, she owes to her
Child, we advise her by all means to purchase one of
these little volumes for her own use, and never to suffer
her offspring, till of mature age, to neglect the perusal
a the other. They are excellent manuals of the first
of social and Christian duties.
PRA,

NCE-SOCIAL, LITERARY, POLITICAL.
SECOND SERIES.
MONARCHY of the MIDDLE CLASSES.
itzmir LYTTON SULIVER, ESQ., M.P., IN TWO VOLS.

London : R. Bentley, 1836.
This is an exceedingly valuable work ; albeit, writ-
ten
with an appearance of haste, and an inattention to
minor details, to which some objection may be very
fairly taken. 'With one half the information which
1‘1r• 11. L. Bulwer has put into one of his volumes,
Mrs. Trollope would have found materials for the
c°Mposition of some three dozen portly octavos, each
of which would be as bulky as his "Series." But
Mr- Bulwer has evidently no taste for amusing the
"reading public" with tea-table gossip and wood-
cuts. He does his countrymen the justice to believe
that they are fonder of truth than they are of fiction, as
far at least as regards the inhabitants of other countries ;
and that the really sensible among them are more de-
sirous of learning the state of the institutions and public
Mind of France, than they are of listening to boarding-
3ehool tittle-tattle on the important subject of old
Maids' recipes for matrimony, and criticisms on the
eut of a Parisian petticoat. In all this Mr. H. L.
Bulwer is perfectly right ; and we thank him for the
practical lesson which he has thus taught future
tourists, whether male or female. To journalize scan-
dal,Sila Trollope, is too frequently all to which modern
tourists-aspire. They cannot see a yard beyond the
nearest hedge ; they judge of the country by the ap-
pearance of the roads.; and, in answer to your ques-
tions about the customs of the inhabitants, and the forms
of their GOvernment, these inquirers after truth present
you with a bill of fare, and recount you the
number of mile-stones they t passed during their
journey. Whatever is human has for them the
greatest interest ; but then, it must not be forgotten,
that all humanity is comprised in their own most pre-
cious and important selves. . They all quit home laden
with money ; but they are most particuler in letting
You know how they spend every sixpence of it. Every
Pitch of the ;;team-boat is duly registered ; every
Yawn is regularly journalized; and the dimensions of
every wave is au well ascertained as if the tourist was
employed by a Bond-street tailor to measure it for a
dress coat.
But Mr. Bulwer's volumes are of another stamp.
His object Was; to make the people of England
acquainted with the real state of France ; and if he attain
not that ob:lect, the people will have only themselves
to blame. Of the " First Series" of this work we gave
trather a lo ug notice on its appearance some ten or
welve mon the since ; the " Second" is still more in-
tresting.
its But before attempting a brief analysis of
contents , we must say a few 'words respecting its
object.
and Mr. wer appears to us to have had two distinct
specifl( ; purposes in view when preparing his work
°,ll
.Prance. The first and most obvious was to make
the. people •of England acquainted with the real con-
uaition
of
.a country which exercises a powerful,
very frequently a direct influence, over the
"airs of I ;:urope—an influence from which neither'
r literatut .e, nor our tastes, nor even our habits,
Uare wholly ex tempt. The second object was of a still
More importgent and a much more philosophic nature.
Bulwer saw—or conceived that he saw—in Prance,
a Prototype of what England is destined to become ;
1144 hence he believed that an essential service would
ue tendered ;to this country by whomsoever would suc-
ceed in apprizing her that France has fallen into
"evous erro rs—not necessarily in consequence of her
political
con: ;titution, but solely because she has suf-
red the
exercise of it to be abused by those entrusted
With its gt tardianship. And here it is that Mr.
Bulwer is r Bally successful as an author, and sound
and logical as. a politician. No writer can be more
happy in th e deduction of a political inference—none
More acute i n distinguishing between a direct and ne-
cessarY, ant l a. collateral consequence.
The first three chapters of the first of these volumes
I.s devoted to an examination of what Mr. Bulwer
calls
the " Light Literature" of modern France, including
the Newspaper Press. The inference which he draws
from the pre vailin, style of dramatic composition, is,
his
Presume t thi;lk, more ingenious than sound ; but
his argumen ts on the influence of a free Press are
incontrovertible. The four following chapters treat
of the influstnee
exercised by religion and its
Ministers of every •
.sect in France. And here
the theme is gratifya, ill the extreme. Not only
is atheistical intidelit; fast
people in general manifest disappearing, but the
a reliaious zeal as sincere
as it is enlightened and eharitablbe.
The " New Phi-
losophers" and their doctrines
Ch 0
• -(7'cuPy the two next
apters ; and what rernams of the first volume is de-
voted to the consideration of the French laws of dc.
We were much struck with the
scent and property.
forcibleness of Mr. Bulwer's refutations
M tns M'Culloch's sopof
ques-
hi on theseti of „me of
im
_ons. The second volume opens with a view of the
l'oeial condition of " Young France," in which
reader is
• presewed with sketches of individuals the,
pour_

traying all that necessarily appertains to a particular
class. The French Aristocracy and the working
classes have ample space devoted to the fixing of their
relative conditions, sympathies, and interests—the re-
lations by which, the necessary connection between
them is preserved—and the extent of their mutual de-
pendence and obligation. The political equality of the
French people is next inquired into ; the centralization
of the Government and its effects follow ; and with
suitable comments upon the civil and military adminis-
tration of the Government—the constitution of the
Chambers of Peers and Deputies—and comparisons
between the social and political state of England and
France at the present moment, the work is brought to
a conclusion.

We have here given a summary of the contents of
Mr. Bulwer's France—nothing more. We stated at
the commencement that objection might be made to
the careless way in which materials of such value are
flung, as it were, together. We have the man of
genius and observation—the philosophical thinker and
the acute observer—but we miss the artist. Every
figure in the Panoramic View is correct, taken by it-
self ; but the grouping is indifferent, and in the midst
of power we are forced to regret the absence of taste.
The way in which we can best prove our sincere
admiration of Mr. Bulwer's France is by making
copious extracts fitom it. One selected by us has al-
ready appeared ; a second on the present state of the
Gallican Church follows this notice : and others, if
possible, will subsequently find a place in our columns.
Be it remembered that Mr. Bulwer's statements are
not rumours picked up in the salons of theatres—half-
hearsays eked out by appearances, rough calculations,
and guesses, resting on what lawyers call " the proba-
bility of the case." His opinions may be canvassed ;
his facts are drawn from sources of which no man in
France doubts the authenticity.
" The national religion of France is considered to be the
religion of the different influential sects in the nation ; and
the state pays a salary to the minister of the Catholic, the
Protestant and the Jewish worship.
" I give the first at three different epochs.
SALARY CATHOLIC CLERGY.

1827. 1834. 1836.
frs. frs. frs.
A Cardinal 30,000 it
The Archbishop of Paris lOO,OOO 40,000 25,000
Another Archbishop

A Bishop
The Vicar General of Paris
Another Vicar General.. 3,000 3,000

A Canon in Paris . 2,400 2,400
A Canon in other dioceses

A Cure (priest) of the first class 1,500 1,500
of the second

A Desservan (answers to our ¶
from 900 from 1,000
Curates in some degree. to 750 to 800
" The changes have been in diminishing the salaries of
the higher and raising the salaries of the lower clergy. The
casuel' or fees from his parishioners double the Catholic
priest's allowance.
" The Protestant clergyman receives no castle' ;' his al-
lowance from the state varies from 3,000 to 1,000 francs,
and may average about 601.
" The Grand Rabbin at Paris receives 6,000 francs—
the. other Grand Rabbin 3,ooo—the other Rabbins vary
from 2,000 to 300 francs.

" The Catholic religion has no longer any estates sepa-
rate from its allowance. During the restoration, it was al-
lowed to receive donations within a certain limit.
" From 1820 to 1825—this was during the heat and fer-
vor of the religious struggle I have described—the dona-
tions to the church doubled what they had been from 1815
to 1820—but :let no political hypocrisy pass for religious
zeal.

" There were five times as many ANONYMOUS donations
to other charitable institutions."
" When a man tells me that he wishes the church to be
wealthy because he has a son who has taken orders—when a
man tells me that he wishes bishops to have 30,000 a year
because he has a brother, the college friend of the prime
minister, who will certainly be a bishop—when a men tells
me that he wishes clergymen to be gentlemen because he
has a dandy nephew who is just the thing for a parson—l
shake him heartily by the hand, and rejoice, for my part,
that the State provides for so honest and frank-hearted a
fellow. But, really, when your solemn-faced puppy, pha-
rasaically remarks, that though many of his family are in
the Church, he, God knows ! wishes to see the Church
wealthy for 'far other and higher considerations, that he
wishes to see a Church mingling with the aristocracy and
endowed with large possessions, merely because be believes
that an aristocratic and wealthy clergy most promote the in-
terests of religion—when some sinful toady of the Peerage
demurely says this—such impudence, I confess, puts me
out of countenance, and I have hardly sufficient presence
of mind to reply :—' Look to the Catholic clergy of Ire-
land ! look to the Dissenters of England! look to the pious,
and excellent, and exemplary body of men forming the
clergy of France—who constitute, without dispute, the
most respectable part of French society, and who, if they
want in some respects the intelligence of the times in which
they live, have all the simplicity, and more than the virtue
of a darker age.
" The greater part of these holy men are peasants by
birth, and frequently born in the village where they after-
wards exercise their functions. Their habits then are sim-
ple, and they mix naturally with their followers, of whom
they understand the wants, the habits, and the language.
They exercise a power—not so extensive as that of the
Irish priests over their flocks—but a power mild and con-
ciliatory—and are usually beloved and respected by the
villagers, at whose christenings they preside, whose mar-
riages they arrange, and whose quarrels they compose.
" To the Presbytery the poor may go with the satisfac-
tion that they will find a friend—a friend not entirely re-
moved from their condition, and who can have no rivalry in
their affairs ; a friend willing to listen to their complaints,
to give them counsel they understand, and to preach, with
a mixture of brotherly tenderness and spiritual authority,
that divine doctrine of humility and resignation which finds
in spite of our vanity and ambition, a deep and holy echo
in the human heart.

" The following are the ecclesiastical statistics of the
numbers of the Catholic clergy composinc, the twenty-four
dioceses of the kingdom, drawn from authentic documents,
year 1833 :

Titular
Honorary
Curates ..
Assistants
Vicars
Chaplains
Almoners
Priests (supernumerary (authorised to
preach and confess)

.37,745
Priests on duty, died 1833

Total, priests in active service - 30;539
Number deficient for the service of dio-
ceses

Number of priests judged necessary by
the bishops

Priests employed whose age exceeds

sixty years
Priests aged or infirm, incapable of duty 1,870

11,625
ORDINATION DURING THE TEAR 1833.
Priests
Deacons
Umler-Deacons

5,461
ECCLESIASTICAL SCHOLARS.

Theology
Philosophy 2,162
In the secondary ecclesiastical schools 13,826

23,405
" By this statement it would appear, as well from the
number of priests required for the service, as from the de-
crease (which in 1824 was 36,000) of the students edu-
cating for the priesthood, that there is a certain difficulty
at the present time in innintaining the ranks of that very
respectable body, to whose virtues I should be ashamed
not to render justice. But let us not at once suppose that
this is owing to the smallness of the salary which the clergy
receive—a salary wholly sufficient for their simple wants,
and, as they arc taken, for the most part, from parents
poorer than themselves, more than they are accustomed to,
or, had they remained among the laity, would have received.
" It has become more: difficult to fill up the ranks of the
priesthood, not because the pecuniary rewards of the church
are-insufficient, if pecuniary rewards could alone suffice, but
because pecuniary rewards cannot alone suffice, when they
have to counterpoise all the tastes and affections and habits
of the human heart.

" You tell me that the church was crowded when it had
rich benefices and bishoprics at its disposition ;—ay—but
had it only rich benefices and bishoprics '?Had it not also
pomp, power, place, all that corrupts and gratifies our na-'
ture ? Were not its favours courted, and its vices forgiven ?'
What difficulty was there in renouncing the world, when

you thereby gained what was most valued in the world ?
Do you think that the most holy of the martyrs themselves
were insensible to the glory that awaited them in front of
the lion ?

" To be a French priest at present—what do you re-
ceive, and what do you renounce ? You receive a mode-
rate, but honourable subsistence, perfectly sufficient for all
the wants which are necessary to, or indeed compatible
with, your calling. But you renounce the honours of a
literary or military career ; you must turn aside from all
that animates and vivifies your nation. You must for ever
abandon the passion of the peasant, whose toil you have
escaped, but from whose desire—desire becoming every day
more ardent—you cannot, from every early recollection and
daily habit, be entirely free. You must abandon the hope Of
having a little spot of ground, which shall become a field,
perchance a farm, under your care and economy ;—a field
or a farm, which would be your own.
" Nor is this all ;--out from the innermost depths of
your heart you must pluck the soft and gentle passion,
which has not only been given you by nature, but which
the society in which you live brings in every varied reflec-
tion before your eyes.

" To be priest, you must neither be dramatist, nor war-
rior, nor proprietor, nor lover, nor husband, nor father
you must renounce all those titles so precious in a nation at
once so affectionate and vain ;—and this without any of
those gratifications which have mingled with the religion
and the religious enthusiasm of the best and wisest of men.
No one shall call you saint, or worship you as prophet ; no
one shall mingle with your person any of that mysterious
divinity which of old mantled the ministers of God.
" You shall be loved and respected ; but you shall be
loved and respected as a man ;—you shall be loved and
respected, but you shall be loved and respected as a mem-
ber of society ;—and you have forsworn the pleasures of a
man ; you have placed beyond the tomb the pleasures of
society ; you hare made the sacrifice of religious enthusiasm
amidst the empire of religious indifference.
" Let me proclaim boldly, that a poor priesthood has
always been, and always must be, a zealous and devoted
one. But let us not confound events ; let us not imagine
that it is the same cause which always produces the same
effect, or that poverty and purity, which are frequently the
sign of a religion on its rise, may not sometimes denote its
decline.

" The ministry of a rising religion, not merely animated
by the vulgar motive of procuring a revenue by their vir-
tue—on which virtue, nevertheless, their revenue solely de-
pends—not merely stimulated by this vulgar motive how-
ever the members of a rising religion have their souls filled
and satisfied by a nobler and more exquisite gratification—
a gratification the highest of which humanity is capable,
proceeding from the adoration, the worship of their disciples.
Here is an impulse given to their energy ; here is a reward
held before their eyes,—an impulse whiCh no government
can give—a reward which no benefice can supply.
" But reverse the medal ;—behold not a religion rising,
but a religion falling l—its revenues have been diminished ;
we may disguise the cause, but the cause will really have
been some diminution of our religious zeal. Then what
follows ? The same sentiment which has diminished the
emoluments of the church, scrutinizes and watches over its
conduct ; for the very reason that the clergy are worse paid,
they are obliged to be more active, more pure. They are
placed in the middle of a crowd, who no longer surrep-
titiously embrace their feet, but who look them intelli-
gently in the face.
" The clergy of that fallen religion will thus become more
pure as they are worse paid, and as they are worse paid,
they will diminish ; but they will diminish, not because they
are worse paid, but because the same cause which diminishes
their pay, exacts from them all the purity of their creed,
but accords to them none of the honours of its apostles."