recommended; it is the shortest, the safest, and the most pleasant way
for all kinds of learning. Take things from the beginning, go to the
main spring, read over the text repeatedly, learn it by heart, quote
it upon occasions; above all, apply yourself to penetrate the sense of
it to its fullest extent and in all its circumstances, reconcile an
authorʼs various sentiments, settle his principles, and draw your own
conclusions. The early commentators were in the very position I should
wish you to be; never borrow their explanations nor adopt their ideas
unless your own fail you, for their interpretation is not yours and
may easily slip out of your memory; on the contrary, your observations
have sprung up in your own mind, will abide with you, and more readily
recur in your conversations, consultations, and discussions. You
will be delighted to observe that in your reading no insurmountable
difficulties will present themselves except those that have nonplussed
commentators and scholiasts themselves, who, moreover, have at their
command such a rich and abundant store of vain and useless learning
when passages are sufficiently clear and present no difficulties to
themselves nor to others. This system of studying the original texts
will convince you that menʼs laziness has encouraged pedants to
increase the bulk of libraries rather than their worth, and to crush
the text under a weight of commentaries; by doing this they have
injured themselves and acted contrary to their own interests, as those
same commentaries have caused an increase of reading, researches, and
of that kind of labour which they intended to render useless.
(73.) What is it that governs men in their way of living and in their
diet? Is it health and sobriety? That is the question. Whole nations
first eat fruit and meat afterwards, whilst others do quite the
contrary, and some begin their meal with one kind of fruit and finish
it with another. Does this proceed from reason or custom? Is it for
their healthʼs sake that men wear their clothes buttoned up to their
chin, and put on ruffs and bands after going for so many ages quite
open-breasted?[811] Is it for the sake of decency, especially at a
time when they have found the means of appearing undressed though they
are dressed?[812] On the other hand, are women who expose their breasts
and shoulders, less delicate in their constitution than men, or less
inclined to decency? It is a strange kind of modesty which induces them
to hide their legs and almost their feet, and at the same time allows
them to bare their arms to the elbow.[813] How came men formerly to
think they had to attack or defend themselves whilst waging war, and
who taught them the use of offensive and defensive arms? What obliges
them to-day to lay these aside, to put on boots to go to a ball, and
to support the pioneers in the trenches, exposed to the whole fire
of a counterscarp, without having any arms, and only dressed in a
doublet.[814] Were our forefathers wise or senseless in not deeming
such a practice useful to their king or their country? And who are
our heroes renowned in history? A du Guesclin, a Clisson, a Foix, a
Boucicault,[815] who all wore helmets and buckled on breast-plates?
Who can account for the introduction of certain words and the
proscription of others?[816]
_Ains_ is lost; the vowel beginning it, and which could so easily be
cut off, could not save it; it gave way to another monosyllable which
at best is but its anagram.[817] _Certes_ is beautiful in its old age,
and has yet strength, though declining; it should be used in poetry,
and our language is under some obligation to those authors who employ
it in prose and defend it in their works. _Maint_ is a word which
should never have been forsaken, and on account of its adaptability for
any style and for the sake of its French origin.[818] _Moult_, though
descended from the Latin, possessed in its time the same merit, and I
do not see why _beaucoup_ should be preferred to it. _Car_ has endured
some persecution, and if it had not been protected by some men of
culture, it would have been shamefully banished from a language which
it had served so long; and this without knowing what word to put in
its place.[819] When _cil_ was in fashion it was one of the prettiest
words of the French language; and it is a sad thing for the poets that
it has become antiquated. _Douloureux_ is, of course, derived from
_douleur_, and so are _chaleureux_ or _chaloureux_ from _chaleur_: yet
_chaloureux_ is going out,[820] though it enriched our tongue, and was
employed quite correctly when _chaud_ was not the right expression.
_Valeur_ ought also to have given us _valeureux_; _haine, haineux_;
_peine, peineux_; _fruit, fructueux_; _pitié, piteux_; _joie, jovial_;
_foi, féal_; _cour, courtois_; _gîte, gisant_; _haleine, halené_;
_vanterie, vantard_; _mensonge, mensonger_; _coutume, coutumier_;
just as _part_ should have produced _partial_; _point, pointu_ and
_pointilleux_; _ton, tonnant_; _son, sonore_; _frein, effréné_; _front,
effronté_; _ris, ridicule_; _loi, légal_; _cœur, cordial_; _bien,
benin_; and _mal, malicieux_. _Heur_ was allowed when _bonheur_ did
not suit; from the first arose _heureux_, which is so French and yet
exists no longer; if some poets have employed it, it is more for the
sake of the measure than from choice. _Issue_ prospers, and comes from
_issir_, no longer in existence. _Fin_ is used, but not _finer_, which
is derived from it, whilst _cesse_ and _cesser_ are still flourishing.
_Verd_ no longer gives _verdoyer_, nor _fête, fétoyer_; nor _larme,
larmoyer_; nor _deuil, se douloir_ and _se condouloir_; nor _joie,
sʼéjouir_; though it still makes _se réjouir_ and _se conjouir_, whilst
_orgueil_ gives _sʼenorgueillir_. Formerly _gent_ was used, as in _le
corps gent_; this easy word is not alone no longer in use, but it has
involved _gentil_ in its ruin. We employ _diffamé_, which proceeds from
_fame_, which is out of date, and _curieux_ is derived from _cure_,
now obsolete. It was much better to say _si que_ than _de sorte que_
or _de manière que_, _de moi_ instead of _pour moi_ or _quant à moi_;
_je sais que cʼest quʼun mal_[821] than _je sais ce que cʼest quʼun
mal_, whether you consider the Latin analogy, or the benefit we often
derive from using a word less in a phrase.[822] Custom has preferred
_par conséquent_ to _par conséquence_, and _en conséquence_ to _en
conséquent_; _façons de faire_ to _manières de faire_, and _manières
dʼagir_ to _façons dʼagir_ ...; in the verbs _travailler_ to _ouvrer_;
_être accoutumé_ to _souloir_; _convenir_ to _duire_; _faire du bruit_
to _bruire_; _injurier_ to _vilainer_; _piquer_ to _poindre_; and
_faire ressouvenir_ to _ramentevoir_ ...; and in the nouns _pensées_
to _pensers_, which is such a beautiful word and so suited for poetry;
_grandes actions_ to _prouesses_; _louanges_ to _los_; _méchanceté_
to _mauvaistié_; _porte_ to _huis_; _navire_ to _nef_; _armée_ to
_ost_; _monastère_ to _monstier_; and _prairies_ to _prées_ ...; all
words, equally fine, which might have been used together and rendered
the language more copious. Through adding, suppressing, changing, or
displacing some letters, custom has formed _frelater_ from _fralater_;
_prouver_ from _preuver_; _profit_ from _proufit_; _froment_ from
_froument_; _profil_ from _pourfil_; _provision_ from _pourveoir_;
_promener_ from _pourmener_, and _promenade_ from _pourmenade_.[823]
This same custom upon occasion makes the adjectives _habile_, _utile_,
_facile_, _docile_, _mobile_, and _fertile_ of different genders,
without changing anything in their spelling; whilst, on the contrary,
the masculine _vil_ and _subtil_ change in the feminine and become
_vile_ and _subtile_.[824] It has altered the old terminations, and of
_scel_ made _sceau_; of _mantel_, _manteau_; of _capel_, _chapeau_; of
_coutel_, _couteau_; of _hamel_, _hameau_; of _damoisel_, _damoiseau_; of
_jouvencel_, _jouvenceau_;[825] and yet all these differences and
changes have been of no perceptible advantage to the French tongue. Is
it, therefore, a progress for a language to be governed by custom, and
would it not be better to shake off the yoke of such despotic sway? Or
shall we in a living language only listen to reason, which prevents
the use of words having a double meaning, traces these words to their
roots, and discovers what relation they bear to those languages from
which they sprang, if that very reason bids us follow custom?[826]
Whether our ancestors wrote better than we do, or whether we excel
them in our selection of words, style, and expression, perspicuity and
brevity, is a question often debated but never yet decided. But this
question is not at an end, if people will compare, as they sometimes
do, a dull writer of a past century to the most celebrated authors of
the present age, or the verses of Laurent,[827] who is paid for not
writing any more, to those of Marot and Desportes.[828] In order to
judge sensibly in this case we should compare one age to another, and
one first-rate piece of literary work to another, such as, for example,
the best _rondeaux_ of Benserade and Voiture[829] to the following two,
which tradition has handed down to us, but without transmitting to us
the name of the authors, or the time when they were written:[830]—
In timely sort Ogier came into Fraunce,
Of Paynim misbegot to rid the lond;
Needs not that I should tell his puissaunce,
Sit never foeman durst his glaunce withstond.
Thoʼ when he hath set all in happy chaunce,
Forth on a perlous jorney bent, he fond
In Paradise the well of youthʼs joyaunce,
Wherewith he thought to stay timeʼs threatening bond
In timely sort.
Thoʼ by this well his body, weak with years,
Upon a sodain changéd quight appears
To youthful wight, fresh, limber eke, and straight.
Great pitye ʼtis such lesinges tell no truth!
Virgins I wot of that bene past their youth,
To whom this bath had come, ere yet too late,
In timely sort.
* * * * *
Of this prow knight full many clerks have penned
That never daunger could his corage scare:
Whom natheless the foul fiend, which unaware
He ʼspoused in womanʼs shape, did foully shend.
So piteous case left his stout heart at end
Without one taint of fear or sordid care:
Whereof great praise throughout the world he bare—
If aught of credence we to tales may lend
Of this prow knight.
Eftsoones it chaunced the daughter of the king
Earned for his love, and made free offering
To Richard, of herself for second wife.
Then, if to keep a woman or a fiend
Be better, and which stirs more hellish strife,
He that would weet may question which was weened
Of this prow knight.
[Illustration]
XV.
OF THE PULPIT.[831]
(1.) A sermon at present has become a mere show, in which there is
not the least appearance of that evangelical gravity which is the
very soul of it; a good appearance, a well-modulated voice, careful
gestures, choice expressions, and prolonged enumerations supply its
place. To listen attentively whilst Holy Writ is dispensed is no longer
customary; going to church is an amusement, among numberless others,
and is a diversion in which there exists rivalry and many persons bet
on various competitors.
(2.) Profane eloquence is transferred from the bar, where Le Maître,
Pucelle, and Fourcroy[832] formerly practised it, and where it has
become obsolete,[833] to the Pulpit, where it is out of place.
Clergymen contest even the prize of eloquence at the altar and before
the holy mysteries; every person in the congregation thinks himself
a judge of the preacher, censures or applauds him, and is no more
converted by the sermon he approves of than by the one he condemns.
The orator pleases some and not others; but agrees with all in this:
that as he does not endeavour to render them better, they never trouble
their heads about becoming so.
An apprentice ought to be obedient and do what his master tells him; he
profits by his instructions, and in time becomes himself a master; but
man is more untoward, for he criticises the preacherʼs discourses as
well as the philosopherʼs works, and thus becomes neither a Christian
nor a philosopher.
(3.) Orators and declaimers will attract large congregations until
that man returns who in a style, based on the Holy Scriptures,
shall explain to the people the Word of God in a simple and familiar
manner.[834]
(4.) Quotations from profane authors, dull allusions, bathos,
antithesis, and hyperboles are no longer in vogue, and portraits[835]
will also cease to be in fashion, and give way to a plain exposition of
the gospel, accompanied by other means that produce conversion.
(5.) At length a man has made his appearance for whom I so impatiently
longed, but whom I dared not expect to behold in this age. The
courtiers, from delicacy of taste and a feeling of decorum, have
applauded him; and what is almost incredible, have left the kingʼs
chapel to mingle among the crowd, and hear the Word of God preached by
a truly apostolic man.[836] The town was not of the same opinion as the
court, and in whatever city-church he spoke not one of the parishioners
came, and the very churchwardens left their pew; the clergymen indeed
stuck to him, but the flock was scattered and went to swell the
congregations of neighbouring orators. This is what I should have
foreseen; and therefore, I ought not to have advanced that such a man,
whenever he appeared, would be universally followed, and would only
have to open his mouth to be listened to, for I know how difficult it
is to eradicate force of habit in mankind in all things. During the
past thirty years, rhetoricians, declaimers, and enumerators have been
listened to; and people run after preachers who depict in a grand style
or in miniature. Not long since sermons were full of points and clever
transitions, sometimes even so smart and pungent that they might have
served for epigrams: now, I confess, these are somewhat softened, and
may pass for madrigals. Three things, these preachers argue, are always
absolutely indispensable, mathematically necessary, and worthy of your
entire attention; one thing they prove in the first part of their
discourse, another in the second, and another in the third; so that
you are to be convinced of one truth, which is their first point of
doctrine; of another truth, which is their second point; and of a third
truth, which is their third point. In this manner the first reflection
will instruct you in one of the fundamental principles of religion;
the second in another principle which is not less fundamental; and
the last reflection in a third and last principle, the most important
of all, but which, for want of leisure, is reserved for another
opportunity. In a word, to recapitulate and abridge this division,
and to form a scheme of.... “Hold,” you exclaim, “do these preachers
require more preparation for a speech of not quite an hourʼs length
which they have to deliver? The more these gentlemen strive to explain
and make things clear to me, the more they bemuddle my brains.”—I can
well believe you, and it is the most natural result of such a mass and
confusion of ideas which come all to one and the same thing, but with
which they unmercifully burden the memory of their audience. To see
them obstinately persist in this custom, people would almost think
that the grace of being converted was inseparable of such long-winded
divisions and sub-divisions. But how is it possible to be converted by
apostles, whom we can hardly hear, follow, and keep in sight? I should
like to ask them to condescend and rest several times, in the midst of
their headlong career, and give their audience and themselves a short
breathing time. But I may spare myself the trouble of addressing them
and of wasting words on them. Homilies are out of date, and the Basils
and Chrysostoms[837] could not restore them, for if they came back,
people would take refuge in other dioceses, so as not to hear them nor
their familiar and instructive discourses. Men in general like fine
phrases and periods, admire what they do not understand,[838] fancy
themselves well informed, and are satisfied with deciding between a
first and second point of doctrine, or between the last sermon and the
last but one.
(6.) Not a hundred years ago a French book consisted of a certain
number of pages written in Latin, with here and there a line or two
of French scattered on each page. But such passages, anecdotes, and
quotations from Latin authors[839] did not only fill books; Ovid
and Catullus, at the bar, decided finally in cases of marriages and
wills, and were of as much use to widows and orphans as the Pandects
were.[840] Sacred and profane authors were inseparable, and seemed
to have slipped together in the pulpit; Saint Cyril and Horace, Saint
Cyprian and Lucretius, spoke by turns; the poets were of the same
opinion as Saint Augustin[841] and the rest of the Fathers. Latin was
the language spoken before women and churchwardens, for any length of
time, and even sometimes Greek; there was no preaching so wretchedly
without a prodigious amount of learning. But the times are changed, and
customs alter; the text still continues in Latin, but the sermons are
preached in French, and in the purest French, whilst the Gospel is not
so much as quoted. Little learning is requisite now-a-days to preach
very well.
(7.) Scholastic divinity is at last driven out of the pulpits of
all the great towns in the kingdom, and confined only to hamlets
and villages for the instruction and edification of ploughmen and
vine-dressers.
(8.) A preacher must have some intelligence to charm the people by
his florid style,[842] by his exhilarating system of morality, by the
repetition of his figures of speech, his brilliant remarks and vivid
descriptions; but, after all, he has not too much of it, for if he
possessed some of the right quality he would neglect these extraneous
ornaments, unworthy of the Gospel, and preach naturally, forcibly, and
like a Christian.
(9.) An orator paints some sins in such alluring colours, and
describes with such delicacy when they were committed, represents
the sinner as having so much wit, elegance, and refinement that, for
my part, if I feel no inclination to resemble his pictures, I have
at least occasion to betake myself to some teacher who, in a more
Christian style, may make me dislike those vices of which the other has
given such a seductive description.
(10.) A fine sermon is an oratorical speech, which, in all its rules
and freed from all its faults, is exactly governed by the same
principles as any other piece of human eloquence, and decked out with
all sorts of rhetorical ornaments. Not a passage nor a thought are lost
to connoisseurs; they easily follow the orator in all the digressions
in which he chooses to wander, as well as in his towering flights; he
is a riddle to none but to the common people.
(11.) What a judicious and admirable sermon I have just heard!
How beautifully brought forward were the most essential points of
religion as well as the strongest motives for conversion! What a
grand impression it must have produced on the minds and souls of the
audience! They are convinced; they are moved and so deeply touched that
they confess from their very souls the sermon they have just heard
Theodorus preach excels even the one they heard before.[843]
(11.) An indulgent and relax morality produces no more effect than
the clergyman who preaches it;[844] for a man of the world is neither
excited nor roused by it, and is not so averse to a rigid doctrine
as some people think, but, on the contrary, likes to hear it from the
person whose duty it is to preach it. There seems to be, therefore, in
the church two classes of men wholly distinct from one another; the one
declaring the truth in all its amplitude, without respect of persons,
without disguise; the other listening to this truth with pleasure,
satisfaction, admiration, and applause, but acting neither the better
nor the worse for it.
(13.) It may be said, and justly so, that the heroic virtues of some
great men have been the cause of the corruption of eloquence, or have,
at least, enervated the style of most preachers. Instead of joining
with the people in rendering thanks to Heaven for the extraordinary
gifts it has bestowed on those great men, these very preachers have
enrolled themselves among authors and poets, and become panegyrists;
they have even uttered more extravagant praises than are found in
dedications, verses, or prologues; they have turned the Word of God
into a whole warp of praises, which, though well deserved, are out of
place, bestowed from selfish motives, not required, and ill-suited to
their calling. It is fortunate indeed, if, while they are celebrating
their heroes in the sanctuary, they even mention the name of that God
or of that religion they ought to preach. Some have wished to preach
the Gospel, which is for all men, only to one person, and have been
so disconcerted when by accident that person was kept away, that they
were unable to pronounce a Christian discourse before an assembly
of Christian men, because it was not prepared for them, so that
other orators have been obliged to take their places, who had only
sufficient leisure to praise God in an extemporary exhortation.[845]
(14.) Theodulus has been less successful than some of his hearers
thought he would be; his discourse has gratified them, and so has he;
but he would have pleased them much more, if instead of delighting
their ears and their minds, he had flattered their feelings of jealousy.
(15.) Preachers and soldiers are alike in this; their vocation presents
more risk than any other, but preferment is also more rapid.
(16.) If you are of a certain rank, and have no other talent but
preaching dull sermons, preach away, however dull you may be, for you
will obtain no preferment if you are utterly unknown. Theodotus has
been well paid for his wretched phraseology and his tiresome monotony.
(17.) Some men have been preferred to bishopricks for their preaching,
whose talents now would not have procured them a mere prebend.
(18.) There is a certain panegyrist whose name seems always weighed
down by a heap of titles and qualities, of which a large number is
always mentioned on the ample bills distributed from house to house,
or printed in letters of enormous size on the bills stuck up in the
streets, no more to be ignored than the open market-place is. After
such a fine display if you hear that man preach, and listen for a while
to what he says, you will find that in enumerating all his qualities,
only one has been omitted, namely, that of being a wretched preacher.
(19.) The idleness of women, and the habit men have of frequenting the
places they resort to, give a certain reputation to some dull orators,
and for a while support the sinking credit of others.
(20.) Are greatness and power the only qualities which entitle a
man to be praised at his funeral before the holy altar and from the
pulpit, the seat of truth? Is there no other greatness but that derived
from an official position or from birth? Why should it not be the
custom publicly to bestow praise on a man who during his lifetime
was pre-eminent for his kindness of heart, his love of justice, his
gentleness, his fidelity, and his piety? What is called “a funeral
sermon” is now-a-days but coldly received by the greater part of the
audience, unless very different from a Christian discourse, or rather,
unless very nearly resembling a secular panegyric.
(21.) An orator preaches to get a bishopric, an apostle to save souls;
the latter deserves what the other aims at.
(22.) We see some of our clergymen[846] return from the country
where they did not stay long, as proud of having made converts, who
had already been made for them, as of those persons whom they could
not convert, compare themselves to Saint Vincent de Paul and Saint
Francis Xavier,[847] and fancy themselves apostles. For such onerous
labours and such a fortunate result of their mission they would think
themselves scarcely repaid by having an abbey given to them.