it was thought that an honor was done him. No one could be further from wishing in the least to underrate him, than M. de Fénélon.

The future bishop of Meaux could not, however, conceal a slight movement of surprise.

"You have heard M. Claude preach!"

And the tone in which these words were spoken, indicated a mingling of various feelings. First, astonishment. He knew that Claude was no mean preacher; but he had never imagined that a Catholic, a connoisseur, could give him thus the first rank after Bourdaloue. It was wounded vanity; could he entirely resign, even for a position reputed higher, his former renown as an orator? Could he sincerely subscribe to the honor, which it was imagined was paid him in leaving him out? So much for his feelings as a man ;—but there were also those of the bishop. It was, as may be easily understood, a very natural displeasure, that felt by a zealous Catholic, in learning that one of the most distinguished men of his church, had entered a heretic place of worship, and had not only entered, but been gratified there. The Jansenists were good Catholics, judging, at least, by the ve hemence of their attacks against the Protestants; but a party may be interested in exaggerating the distance which separates it from a certain other party,* and in this case, the animosity displayed, proves more affinity than repulsion. Among the hundred and one propositions condemned in 1713, in the Bull Unigenitus, there is more than half to which Calvin might have subscribed. The more Jansenism resembled the Reformation in

*It is on this account, that the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and the persecutions against the Jansenists themselves, so closely followed the debates of 1682, when the Pope had been so insulted. Loudly accused by Rome, of having destroyed, or wishing to destroy Catholic unity, Louis XIV. found it very convenient to renew it at the expense of the Protes tants and Port-Royal.

some points, (and these points were by no means the most unimportant,*) the more important it was considered for it to distinguish itself from the Reformation as a whole; but these tacticst escaped the observation of none, and could only serve to excite the distrust of the strict Catholics. Add to this, that the Jansenists gave themselves airs of independence little in accord with the respect which they professed to entertain for the decisions of the church. If they supported Catholicism, it was rather as a doctrine of their own choice, than as the received religion, imposed authoritatively, and accepted with submission. Free examination of the Scriptures existed in fact among them. They were Catholics at Port-Royal, as one was Calvinist at Geneva. They were then Protestants with the exception of their doctrines; and the presence of the marquis in the place of worship at Charenton,-even if he had entered it but once, could not be an isolated and unimportant fact in the eyes of Bossuet.

"Have I heard M. Claude !" replied M. de Fénélon; "a whole Lent-"

"A Lent!" said the minister laughing. "I did not think that I had ever preached Lent sermons

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"An old habit," resumed the marquis; "I meant to say all the Sundays of a Lent. It happened thus, gentlemen. It was two years ago; I was passing the winter at Paris. My friend the Duke de la Forcet heard me lamenting one day, that there *"It is useful and necessary, at all times, in all places, for all sorts of persons, to study the Scriptures."-LXXIXth Condemned Proposition. The reformers themselves, did not say more than that.

Tactics which, it must be confessed, were sincere; there was an unarfected horror, at the same time, with this secret affinity. The Abbé de Saint-Cyran never opened a heretic book without previously exorcising it by making a sign of the cross:

Son of him who almost miraculously escaped from death, on Saint Bartholomew's day.

was not a preacher in the whole city who pleased me. It is well understood that you were not there, Monsieur Bourdaloue. You will tell me that such complaints are wrong, and that all preachers are good to those only who go in the hope of improvement. I know it well; but what was to be done? If I have sinned in going to hear M. Claude, it is more your fault than mine; why did you spoil me the year before, so completely as to render all those insupportable to me who were not equal to you.* 'Come to Charenton,' said the Duke de la Force. Now you must know that it was perhaps the twentieth time he had spoken to me of M. Claude. A short time before, I had taken him to Nôtre Dame to hear Father Bourdaloue, as my only answer. To my great surprise, for he is an honest man and of infallible good taste, he had not appeared discomfited. 'It is fine,' he had said to me, 'it is good, very good, but come to Charenton.' I believed him to be jeering me. Finally, as I have said, one day when I complained of our preachers, he took me at my word and conducted me to hear his. What more shall I say? I went back every Sunday, and I do not think I was any the worse for it at Easter."

Claude was radiant.

We will not say that pride had nothing to do with it; and why should we wish to have this believed? Henry IV. said truly, that none but a coward would boast of never having been afraid; and with still more reason might it be asserted, that it is only a very proud person who could venture to say he had no pride. But Claude was accustomed to praises, and M. de Fénélon was not the first Catholic from whom

* “He is an extraordinary man. If you had once heard him, you would be disgusted with all others." "I shall take care, then, not to go and hear him, for I would not wish one preacher to disgust me with all others; on the contrary, I seek for a man who shall inspire me with such a love and respect for the word of God, that I should be but the more disposed to hear it everywhere."-FENELON. Pulpit Eloquence.

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he had received them. So that which most gratified him, was

not the being praised in itself, but being so by so grave and pious a man, for it may be supposed that the marquis was known to him by reputation; it was the thought, that, ignorant that this man was among his audience, he had preached five or six times in succession, without saying anything to displease him, without speaking as a Protestant or a Catholic, without, in short, being anything else but Christian, in the purest, most elevated sense of the word. This was what he was proud of, more than anything else; if we must call it pride, let us at least confess that no pride could be more legitimate or more Christian.

"Ah! sir," he cried, seizing the hand of the marquis, "in such a moment as this, I feel myself repaid with interest, for whole years of labor and disappointment! When I am informed that I have pleased some one, I tremble;* but when I hear that I have done some good—”

"That is a happiness which you must often have."

"Much less often than you would think—”

"Alas!" said Bourdaloue, "I suppose that all churches are alike in this respect. There are not twenty hearers in a thousand, who know exactly what they come for, when they come to church; the sermon is neither really listened too nor really understood, save by those who could the best do without it. If they have been curious to hear it, and if they feel pleasure in coming from their homes to the church, they fancy that they live in a proper frame of mind; because they love the preacher, they think that they love sufficiently the religion which he preaches.”

"I hear many who speak of your sermons; the odor of your aromatics exhales itself even to me; but after so many messengers who report to me every day, that your bed is adorned with flowers,-that your spring is fresh and smiling,—I shall expect others, who shall bring me news of the summer and the autumn, of the harvest and the vintage."-FRANCOIS DF SALES. Letter to Le Camus.

"This deception," added Claude, "is only one of the thousand ru ses of pride and obduracy. There is calculation in it, you may be certain; instinctive calculation, it is true, but not the less real for that. All those who hear you, know very well, in reality, that a sermon is meant to be profited by ;-but the greater part also, in reality, and without confessing it to themselves, care very little about profiting by it. So then, what happens? If you preach badly, or only tolerably, they ease their consciences by criticizing you, for the consequence of this in their minds is, that there is no harm in not profiting by a poor sermon. If you preach well, they put themselves at ease by praising you; and in order not to pay to God the tribute claimed by him, they hasten to pay to his minister that which costs the least, and binds them to nothing. See, they seem to say, see what enthusiasm I am still capable of feeling for a religious discourse, for a man who speaks to me of God and of my salvation. And content with feeling this enthusiasm, they stop there; their conscience is satisfied. Therefore, when one of my audience comes to inform me that I have given him pleasure, (for you know that is the expression adopted); there is another, I say to myself, for whom my sermon is lost."

"I had the folly, one day," said M. de Fénélon, "to pay this compliment to Father Seraphin, former preacher to the king. He replied; So much the worse,' and turned his back to me." "He might have been more charitable."

"Ah! you do not know Father Seraphin. He is a man who does not trifle. Ask my nephew-"

"An adventure?"

“Yes,” said the nephew, "and odd enough." "May we hear it?"

"Certainly. One day, then, Father Seraphin was preaching in the king's chapel. In the very midst of his discourse,

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