the population is only four and a half millions,
there are in Sardinia 7 archbishops; 34 bishops; 41 chapters, with 860
canons attached to the bishoprics; 73 simple chapters, with 470 canons;
1100 livings for the canons; and, lastly, 4267 parishes, with some
thousands of parish priests. The domain of the Church represents a
capital of 400 millions of francs, with a yearly revenue of 17 millions
and upwards. This enormous wealth is divided amongst the clergy in
proportions grossly unequal. The 41 prelates of Sardinia enjoy a revenue
of nearly a million and a half of francs, which is double what used to
maintain all the bishops of the French empire. The Archbishop of Turin
has an income of 120,000 francs, which is more than the whole bench of
Belgian bishops. The other prelates are paid in proportion. As a set-off
to this wealth, there are in Sardinia upwards of 2000 curates, not one
of whom has so much as 800 francs, or about L.35 sterling. These are
thus tempted to prey upon the people. Such is the terrible organization
which the King and Parliament have to encounter in carrying out their
reforms, and such is the fearful incubus which has pressed for ages upon
the social rights and industrial energies of the Piedmontese people.

But this is but a part of the great sacerdotal army encamped in
Piedmont. There are 71 religious orders besides, divided into 604
houses, containing in all 8563 monks and nuns. The expense of feeding
these six hundred houses, with their army of eight thousand strong,
forms an item of two millions and a-half of francs, and represents a
capital of forty-five millions. The greatest admirer of these
fraternities will scarce deny that this is a handsome remuneration for
their services; indeed, we never could make out what these services
really are. They do not teach the youth, or pray with the aged. For
reading they have no taste; and to write what will be read, or preach
what will be listened to, is far beyond their ability. Their pious hands
disdain all contact with the plough, and the loom, and the spade. They
share with their countrymen neither the labours of peace, nor the
dangers of war. They lounge all day in the streets, or about the wine
shops; and, when the dinner-hour arrives, they troop home-wards, to
retail the gossip of the town over a groaning board and a well-filled
flagon. Thus they fatten like pigs, being about as cleanly, but scarce
as useful. It is not surprising that a bill should