Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/19

 the love of his people, the esteem of his enemies, the wisdom of his laws: "but, Sire, the Gospel speaks not as the world speaks." The audience of Versailles, accustomed as they were to the Bossuets and Bourdaloues, were unacquainted with an eloquence at the same time so delicate and so noble; in consequence, it excited in the assembly, notwithstanding the gravity of the place, an involuntary expression of admiration. There only wanted, to render this passage still more impressive, that it should have been pronuonced in the midst of the misfortunes which succeeded our triumphs, and at a time when the monarch, who, during fifty years, had experienced nothing but prosperity, lived only to sorrow. If ever Louis XIV. heard a more eloquent exordium, it was perhaps that of a religious missionary, who, on his first appearance before the king, thus began his discourse : " Sire, I mean not to pay a compliment to your majesty, I have found none in the Gospel."

Truth, even when it speaks in the name of God, ought to content itself with knocking at the door of kings, and should never break it open. Massillon, convinced of this maxim, did not imitate some of his predecessors, who had displayed their zeal by preaching Christian morality in the mansions of vice with an austerity capable of rendering it odious, and of exposing religion to the resentment of haughty and offended power. Our orator was always firm, but always respectful, while he announced to his sovereign the will of the Judge of kings. He filled the measure of his ministry, but he never surpassed it; and the monarch, who might have left his chapel discontented with the liberty of some other preachers, never left it after a sermon of Massillon, but "discontented with himself." These were the very words of the prince to this orator; words which contained the highest eulogy he could give; yet one, which so many preachers before and since Massillon have not even wished to obtain, while they were more solicitous to please the critics than to convert sinners.

Successes so brilliant and repeated did not fail of their usual effect; they created Massillon implacable enemies, especially among those who considered themselves as his rivals. Their aim was, if possible, to shut the mouth of so formidable a competitor; but this was only to be done by an accusation against his doctrine, and on this delicate point the preacher gave not the least scope to their charitable intentions. He was, indeed, member of a congregation, the opinions of which were then much the object of suspicion; and through this pious consideration several of his brethren had been dexterously excluded from the pulpit of Versailles. But Massillon's sentiments, daily exposed to court criticism, were so irreproachably orthodox that they baffled the keenest scrutiny of hatred. The church and the nation already destined him to the episcopacy; and envy, usually blind to its own interests, might, with subtler policy, have regarded this dignity as a decent mode of burying his talents, by banishing him to a distance from Paris and the court. It did not carry so far its dangerous penetration; but, considering a bishopric only in the light of a splendid recompense, it resolved to