We should talk less about what religion forbids, and a little more of the benefits which it imparts. Don't be always saying:—"Religion forbids this, and that, and the other thing;" for you will turn the people against it, and will be charged with insisting on what is impossible. We Frenchmen are very children of Adam—and of Eve too. It is quite enough for a thing to be forbidden to induce us to do it. We have a ravenous taste for the forbidden fruit. For instance, a man curses and swears in your presence. Don't tell him that it is a sin, an abominable habit; for he will then take a malicious pleasure in repeating his profanity. Tell him rather that it is unseemly, that it is vulgar, that it shows bad taste, and he will abstain; for all, even the most depraved, wish to be thought well brought up. Let us therefore talk less of vices and more of virtues.
Let us now suppose that you are brought in contact with a crafty and narrow-minded class of persons. Disconcert all their manoeuvres by a straight forward and sincere address, and by a still more frank demeanor, always combined with discretion. Then there will be no gratification in deceiving you. Above all, never resort to underhand measures, and carefully avoid slander. The people hate them: and God and His truth have no need of a secret police.
When you have to deal with an egotistical and slanderous set, never speak of egotism or slander; but scatter love broadcast among them, make the good chords of their hearts vibrate, filling them with the holy palpitations of charity toward their brethren. Thus slander and egotism will vanish, according to the saying of St. François de Sales:—"When there is a fire in the house, every thing is thrown out through the windows."
In large cities, where the people are quick, bustling, and petulant, your speech should be lively, frank, bold, winning, and irresistible, that it may cause their hearts to thrill with emotion, and excite their interest by occasionally drawing a smile from them. In small towns, on the contrary, be less bold and more circumspect, and let it be your first aim to acquire the confidence of the people. Study your ground well, the prevailing prejudices, and even the local routine.
Novelties often engender distrust. To gain currency for them, you must secure the affections of your charge, and soar above petty ideas and feelings. Be impassible and kind in the midst of the puerile interests which surround you. Be just, for the people love justice: they even love a severe man who is just; how much more, then, will they regard such an one if he is benevolent also? Confidence once restored, go to the main point; stir up men's consciences, appeal to the better part of human nature, and throw routine overboard. Bring religion into close contact with those hearts which seem so cold, and you will witness things unknown to those who believe these people to be indifferent or hostile, simply because, as is often the case, the people in small towns are not known. They are looked at too near, they are judged by the exterior, and almost always by those characteristics wherein they clash against ourselves.
There is another reason why you should keep aloof from the narrow-mindedness above mentioned. One frequents certain excellent families of the locality who are devoutly inclined and are munificent to the Church. There is no harm in that; but it often happens that these worthy persons have rather contracted views, and are not altogether exempt from petty passions. They are fond of hearing and repeating some ill-natured gossip, or the least edifying news of the day; and as we are all apt to acquire some of the ideas of those with whom we associate, one comes at length to look at things with their eyes, and finally adopts some such style as this:—"My parish is this, my parish wishes that;" whereas, if matters were closely analyzed, it would turn out that the alleged wish of the parish is confined to a few of those aforesaid pious souls.
The next false step is to adopt a self-conceited course of action and of religious teaching, wholly irrespective of the Catholic Church: nothing is thought of what may be done elsewhere. "Success can only be achieved in such a way," becomes the expression of this self-sufficiency; while those who fall into it grow exclusive and empirical, and forget that, thanks be to God, the ways of doing good are multifarious, and among them such as are suited to all dispositions and characters. Nay, it will be fortunate if this conceit does not assume to have done all that could be done, and to deny the possibility of others doing better or more. Happy indeed is the man who can truly bear such a testimony to himself! We war against prejudices: let us therefore beware of entertaining any ourselves, for they are not the easiest enemies to be dislodged. Yes, we sometimes circumscribe, we confine the beautiful Catholic religion within the small town where we ourselves reside; we recognize it there, and there only; it is taught as it should be only there; no good can be done except what is done there, whether that said small town be called Quimperlé or Saint-Pierre-de-Chignac.