Matters have undoubtedly improved on this score; proving that, if we correct our own errors, the effect will not be lost upon others. We are now far removed from the time when nothing but the future was talked of, the philosophy of the future, the happiness of the future, when it used to be said that the time was big with the future, big with a new philosophy; nay, even with a new religion; whereas, in truth, it was big with nothing but misery, as the event fully proved. …
We must not assail these delusions directly, nor imitate the bold preacher who is reported to have said—"So we are supposed to be living in the era of light! If so, then it is the devil who holds the candle." On the contrary, you should enter into the current of the ideas of the age, and strive vigorously to turn it in favor of religion, by taking advantage of prevailing errors and delusions to edify your hearers.
One of the lectures of the Rev. Père Ventura supplies a fine model of this style of preaching; which but for the sacredness of the place where it was delivered, would undoubtedly have elicited roars of applause. He had been showing that the attempt to introduce German philosophy into France was a great mistake, inasmuch as it was altogether unsuited to the positive, sensible, and Christian mind of the French people. He wound up as follows:—"Frenchmen, it is your bane that you do not value yourselves as you ought, that you wish to imitate foreigners; whereas you are rich enough in resources of your own. Last century you imitated English politics and were not very successful. Why do you now wish to borrow a philosophy from Protestant Germany? Frenchmen, be yourselves. … What! are you not rich enough in mind, in your wonderful talent for comparison and for development, and in your extreme quickness at deducing consequences from the most remote premises? Not rich enough in the truth which eighteen centuries of Christianity have poured into your bosoms, and to which you owe your civilization and grandeur. Frenchmen, forbear aping others; you have only to be yourselves in order to be great." (Prolonged sensation.)
We should become all things to all men, without ever being rude; being always simple, natural, true, and upright. These are qualities admired alike by all; by the little, and especially by the great. …
The wealthy residents in towns frequently go to spend a part of the fine season in the country, where the curé, in order to exalt religion in their eyes—and the pastor a little as well—thinks himself called upon to be at the expense of some grand phrases and flights of fancy. Now, such a course is neither adroit nor apostolic. As to grand phrases, the visitors hear enough of them in the towns. Besides, they may judge that you have talked at them, and may be offended. Moreover, it is not at all unlikely that they may think you have mistaken your profession. … Instead of acting in this way, do not seem to be aware of their presence, but speak boldly to your people in your usual style. Avail yourself, nevertheless, of any fitting occasion to tell them some useful truths; to draw their attention to some striking parable, like that of the poor man with the ewe lamb and the prophet Nathan, which may afford you a good opportunity of reaching the rich over the shoulders of the peasant. Be careful, however, always to do this in a kindly manner; both rich and poor will then be more satisfied with you, and God Himself will concur in the same opinion.
Remember that you have a difficult part to play in a small town. There, you may not say all that may be said in a large city. There, the most paltry things assume huge proportions. One of our best preachers entirely failed of success through having omitted to repeat the Ave Maria after the exordium, and for not having allowed his audience time to cough, to expectorate, and to take breath. It is a wonder that he escaped without having his orthodoxy suspected.
Moreover, the residents in small towns are excessively fond of finely-turned phrases, rhetorical displays, and pomposity. They call such rodomontade poetry, and think it sublime. You may adopt it occasionally by way of accompaniment. Nevertheless, don't be led into the delusion that any essay in that style will prevent the sturdy bourgeois from slandering his neighbor, from cheating him if he can, and from doing many other things of a similar kind.
Good manners have great weight in France, and many things are excused in him who says them cleverly.