well-good! good! And who has ever been fitter than he for the kingdom of heaven!-Admirable! Admirable !" In short, one might have imagined that Father La Chaise knew Claude's letter, and was striving to reverse it from beginning to end. Bourdaloue was in agonies. He felt that his cause was not so widely separated from that of his companion, that these scandalous commendations might not bring condemnation upon him the author of the eulogy,-in the mind of the minister. What tormented him the most, was the thought of the conclusions to which Claude would probably come, in regard to the principles and tendencies of the Jesuits. So, burning with impatience to cut it short, he was sometimes upon the point of calling to him, sometimes he sought in his mind for some method of supplicating him not to appear, proposing to himself afterwards to excuse to the best of his ability, if not his companion, at least his order. In the meantime, the Father continued. All that he thought particularly good, he read aloud. When he arrived at that sentence which Claude had called blasphemy, he could no longer contain himself; he was enthusiastic. And this enthusiasm was sincere. A man of some mind,— in the habit of seeking and finding only one of the branches of the oratorical art, in preaching, every brilliant or dexterous idea seemed to him excellent from that very quality; he troubled himself very little about the principles; still less about the religious and moral effect. In argumentative compositions, he detected with incomparable address the smallest or the best concealed faults; at such times he was again in all his vigor, the late professor of philosophy, the man who had for twenty years attracted all the youth of Lyons to his instructions. In compositions with which feeling had anything to do, he noticed no thing but the style. A valiant champion of the laws of logic, he generally treated those of religion and morals very lightly. We have already had occasion to remark with how many honorable qualities this laxity was combined in him. "He was of common-place mind," said Saint Simon, " but of good disposition. Just, upright, disinterested, polite, modest, very much of a Jesuit, but moderate, and without servility." Voltaire calls him "a mild man, with whom the road to reconciliation was always open;" but it is rare that a conciliatory person has at the same time enough strength never to be so at the expense of those things in which all conciliation is blamable. It is not hypocrites alone who say with Tartufe; “There is a way of arranging matters with heaven.” This language is still oftener that of lukewarmness or of weakness. La Chaise was one of those men who have the misfortune to be vividly impressed neither by good nor evil. 66 Perfect, really,-perfect!" he said to Bourdaloue, returning him his manuscript. "Yes? And yet certain scruples have presented themselves—" "Say rather that they have been presented to you." "That is not the question. Presented or not, I have them. And if you will—” “Well,—would I say to the king in private, what I am going to say to him before all his court? Would you say it to him, you ?” "A pretty question! Does one ever use the same language in a tête-à-tête as in the pulpit ?" "No, as far as style goes; but the ideas? Do you think that what is false in itself, can pass for true in the pulpit ?" "True! true! Who talks of that? Who is going to examine whether the praises given to the king in public are the exact expression of the truth?" "And suppose he takes them as truth !” "My dear brother, you must confess that one would not expect these reflections from him who wrote these two pages hereBourdaloue cast down his eyes. "And who is preparing himself to recite them to-morrow," added La Chaise, in an incredulous and questioning tone. And as Bourdaloue did not reply, he said: "You are not frank with me, it is bad; you will persist in throwing me into perplexity, it is bad-very bad. In fact you are quite pale" He took his hand, and said in the most caressing tone: 66 Have you reflected well, my dear brother? If you go and talk severely to the king, you exile yourself from the pulpit of Versailles. Would it not be better to remain in his good graces, and keep in your power the means of bringing him af terwards, but gradually and without violence,* to the change which we all desire? Yes, all, for you do not do me the wrong to think that I care more about my garden than the king's salvation. Come, let us discuss the matter. You have a splendid composition there, which will give the greatest pleasure to theking, and the greatest honor to you. It is the last sermon of this Lent-be prudent, and I promise you that you shall preach again next year. Then, do what you choose. Be terrific from the very first sermon. But to-morrow! The day but one before Easter! Once more, I ask, do you think of such a thing? Who will thank you for this great effort of zeal and courage? The court? Doubtful. The king? Still more doubtful. No one, you see, no one "Except God !" said Claude. The nations are the herbs; the * “Christianity is like a great salad. doctors are the salt; vos estis sal terræ. and the oil, the good Jesuit fathers. A Jesuit smooths everything."— FATHER ANDRE: Sermon on Zeal. 66 Since," adds the author, "a drop of oil always spreads;-Put on Jesuit into a province, and it will soon be full of them." CHAPTER XVI. FATHER LA CHAISE STARTLED.—HE DEPARTS, AND CLAUDE CONTINUES HIS DICTATION. “A THUNDERBOLT falling at his feet, could not have produced,— etc." If this phrase were not so old, and were not to be found in all romances, we should not know a better one to describe the effect of these words upon the reverend father. Stupefied, scared, his eyes immoderately stretched open, wandered from Claude to Bourdaloue, which latter, almost as much confounded as himself, was not very capable of commencing an explanation. Claude was silent. He remained at three paces distant, standing motionless, and still half enveloped in the shadows which obscured two-thirds of the room. "Who-who is this? Who is this man?" at length asked Father La Chaise. "It is a-it is-my secretary." "A plague take your secretary! He has given me a fright." This word fright expired on his lips. Claude had advanced a step or two; the light fell brilliantly upon his severe countenance, and his glance was very little like that of a secretary in the cabinet of his employer. "Your-your secretary? Monsieur is your secretary ?" "Monsieur," said Claude, "if your conscience were easy in re gard to the words which I may possibly have heard you speak, you would not be so startled to see me here." "Startled!-I!-My conscience!-By what right?" * "Oh! I know very well that I have not a confessor's diploma-" "But who are you, then? Who is this, Monsieur Bourdaloue ?" "How "What difference does that make ?" resumed Claude. ever, shall I tell you who it is? It is an honorable man, monsieur, whose indignation is aroused when he hears calculations like those which you have just been making. It is a Christian, to whom you will not deny the right to groan for the injury which you do to religion, and for the wretchedness of the souls which you cause to perish "He insults me !" cried the father, " in your presence! in your house! And you do not make him hush! Do you join with him then? In that case, I have only to retire-" "Make me hush, monsieur! And by what right? let me ask in my turn. You say you are insulted. Is it my fault if truth is an insult to you? For in fact, it is only truth that I have told you; truth, such as you would hear it from all pious lips, if they dared tell it to you; truth, such as you would read it in all, even the least pious hearts, if God permitted you to read them. You have, like the king whom you are aiding to undo,-you have, (and it is the beginning of your punishment,) those who undo you. You are sought after, flattered; you are, in fact, the first and the most powerful of the ministers of the crown. Tremble! It is never with impunity that one is placed near to a throne, The truth, which you conceal from the king, others conceal from you; but also upon you falls all the odium of the vices which you tolerate, and consequently encourage in him. There is not a courtier so corrupt, so shameless, so interested that the king |