Alas! we often have to deplore the little effect which our words produce on the higher classes. But why should you expect them to understand us? They have no longer the Christian sense; they do not wish to endure, their aim is to enjoy themselves. They are devoured by sensualism and hardened by egotism. To remedy this, begin by dipping their souls in the waters of charity; teach them the way of self-sacrifice and devotion; enlist them in efforts for the moral benefit of the people, their children, and the poor, and then you will be listened to.
This kind of charity is readily understood in France. All of us have some sort of pretension of wishing to do something for the moral welfare of the people, even though we may not be strictly consistent in our own morality. But the French mind is so logical that it cannot play such a part for any length of time without being bettered thereby, were it only for shame's sake or out of self-respect. Something within will say:—"Before attempting to reform others, I shall do well to reform myself." Then charity will attract heavenly blessings, and the heart will open itself to the inspirations of the Gospel.
If, therefore, you wish to convert or reform a man, set him to reform one somewhat worse than himself. You will succeed much more readily in that way than by argument.
Take the case of a young man whose virtue is more than wavering, and the flights of whose imagination cause you anxiety. Set him at work to reform others, or to make the effort on some notorious offender. He will do his part wonderfully well; his own virtue will be strengthened and confirmed thereby, and you will have given beneficent scope to an exuberant vivacity which the youth himself did not know how to utilize.
It is related that a president of the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul had reason to fear that some of its members failed to discharge their Paschal obligations. There were, at the same time, several poor families to be converted, and he committed the task to the suspected defaulters. The result was that they were the first to partake of the Holy Communion. The thing was simple enough: before leading others to the confessional, it was necessary that they themselves should show them the way.
Every effort made by the higher classes to benefit those below them, revives and sustains in the former the spirit of compassion, of benevolence, and of self-sacrifice—the best sentiments of the human heart. It imparts life to them; for to live is to feel, is to love, is to be loved, and to cause love in others. To have sympathy with and fellow-feeling for the poor—that is to live; but to be wholly absorbed in business matters, in advancing one's own fortune, or in concocting intrigues—that is not to live; rather it is to become brutish and to go to ruin. Nothing is more immoral and contrary to nature than to be always taken up with self. Moreover, the course which we are recommending tends to draw the different classes closer together, to teach them to know and esteem each other, and to assuage mutual jealousies and antipathies. The people are fond of being thought of, of having interest manifested toward them. Under such treatment they readily yield, and are glad to be reconciled. They become even proud of the tokens of benevolence bestowed on them by some wealthy individual; it is a kind of safeguard to them against evil passions. They say to themselves:-"We are loved and esteemed: let us by honest and Christian conduct continue to deserve such consideration."
Further, it cannot be denied that there is a tendency in the spirit of the people to fancy themselves despised by the rich. Even suspicion on that point must be rendered impossible, for it may lead to serious evils. The people are implacable on the subject of contempt: they are even cruel, and they cannot pardon it, whatever else they may be ready to overlook. They forgive those who deceive and those who rob and over-work them; but they do not forgive those who despise them. To be despised is to them the last indignity: and perhaps there is some reason in that popular instinct. It is surprising that our blessed Lord complained but once during His passion. … He suffered, He died, without a murmur; but when the affront of contempt was inflicted on Him, He complained, and uttered that speech which revealed a heart profoundly bruised:—"If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil; but if well, why smitest thou me?"
But when the people meet with benevolence and cordiality among the rich, jealousy and hate give way, and they may be heard to say:—"If all the rich were of that sort, they would be adored; we should be ready to die for them." Moreover, they are led thereby to have more faith in God and in the reality of a Providence.