"You have heard it reported, and you yourselves know, that the seasons generally have been bad throughout the country. The people have to suffer elsewhere much more than you do here; yet they bear it patiently.
"I trust, therefore, that you will be contented and quiet, and that your example may promote peace on all sides. Then, my good friends, it will be said everywhere: The Marseillaise are a brave people. The King will hear it—that excellent King whom we should not afflict, whom we unceasingly invoke—even he will hear of it, and will esteem and love you the more."
As might have been expected, this address produced the happiest results. The people do not, cannot resist such appeals, unless some mischievous demagogue interferes to rekindle their passions.
Lastly, I must say a few words on a subject which should be candidly explained to the people. I allude to the money taken for the use of chairs in our churches, and the difference which exists in the celebration of marriages and funerals for the rich and the poor. This is a matter which causes great estrangement from religion, and he who is not aware of the fact shows his ignorance of the feelings prevailing among the people. It is desirable that all should be set right on this point, both rich and poor; even the most pious amongst us. Faith is no longer large enough to comprehend these exigencies, and there is a wide-spread suspicion abroad that the Church is following the ruling passion of the multitude—love of money. Besides, the people entertain strong views on the subject of equality, and expect it in matters of religion, if they do not meet with it anywhere else.
Hence it is not uncommon to hear reflections such as the following among the operatives of our work shops:—"Religion nowadays is no longer the religion of the Gospel. The Gospel loves and prefers the people; but religion as practised at present prefers the rich and encourages felons.
"Take, for example, two men of humble parentage. The one remains a workman and maintains his integrity all his life; he toils on and dies poor. The other becomes rich by very questionable means, defrauds right and left, and dies wealthy. He is then placed in the centre of the church, and surrounded with burning tapers and chanting priests. … The poor devil of a workman, on the contrary, who has been upright all his life, is borne in the rear of the parish priest, accompanied by two or three assistants, with as many tapers, and is then pitched into a corner. . . . And you would have me believe that this is the religion of Christ? It is no such thing; it is the religion of the priests: it is the religion of money." ….
Arguments like these have a powerful effect on persons who are incapable of sober reflection and who scarcely ever look beyond the present state of existence. They harrow up the popular instincts; and with the people instinct is everything. The man who secures the command over their instincts may do any thing with them; he who fails in that respect cannot manage them at all. … It is most desirable, then, that the inequality complained of should be kindly and frankly explained.
In doing so, we might say something to the following effect:—
"Dear friends, this subject is quite as painful to us as it can be to you; but you are aware that there are some stern necessities in life. The Church is poor nowadays, and yet has many expenses to meet. The sacred fabrics must be maintained, the wages of employés paid, suitable furniture provided, and we ourselves, brethren, even we, the clergy, must live. … Would you like us to go begging our bread? Say, would you wish that? Certainly not; for if you knew we were in need, you would be the first to succor us, even though you had to stint yourselves. Moreover, it is our duty to visit the poor; and would you condemn us to the greatest possible misery, that of witnessing want without being able to relieve it? Say, would you inflict such torture upon us? Well, then, brethren, the money in question goes to defray these expenses, to give us bread, and to enable us to alleviate the necessities of the poor.