om, as the empire
was of glory; and what they borrow from foreigners undergoes the same
process. They take top-boots and mackintoshes from across the water, and
caricature our fashions; they read a little, very little, Shakespeare,
and caricature our poetry: and while in David's time art and religion
were only a caricature of Heathenism, now, on the contrary, these
two commodities are imported from Germany; and distorted caricatures
originally, are still farther distorted on passing the frontier.

I trust in heaven that German art and religion will take no hold in our
country (where there is a fund of roast-beef that will expel any such
humbug in the end); but these sprightly Frenchmen have relished the
mystical doctrines mightily; and having watched the Germans, with their
sanctified looks, and quaint imitations of the old times, and mysterious
transcendental talk, are aping many of their fashions; as well and
solemnly as they can: not very solemnly, God wot; for I think one should
always prepare to grin when a Frenchman looks particularly grave, being
sure that there is something false and ridiculous lurking under the
owl-like solemnity.

When last in Paris, we were in the midst of what was called a Catholic
reaction. Artists talked of faith in poems and pictures; churches
were built here and there; old missals were copied and purchased; and
numberless portraits of saints, with as much gilding about them as
ever was used in the fifteenth century, appeared in churches, ladies'
boudoirs, and picture-shops. One or two fashionable preachers rose, and
were eagerly followed; the very youth of the schools gave up their pipes
and billiards for some time, and flocked in crowds to Notre Dame, to sit
under the feet of Lacordaire. I went to visit the Church of Notre Dame
de Lorette yesterday, which was finished in the heat of this Catholic
rage, and was not a little struck by the similarity of the place to
the worship celebrated in it, and the admirable manner in which the
architect has caused his work to express the public feeling of the
moment. It is a pretty little bijou of a church: it is supported by sham
marble pillars; it has a gaudy ceiling of blue and gold, which will look
very well for some time; and is filled with gaudy pictures and carvings,
in the very pink of the mode. The congregation did not offer a bad
illustration of the present state of Catholic reaction. Two or three
stray people were at prayers; there was no