sures which surround them, may lead them astray; but a remaining principle of religion renders truth always respectable to them. We may venture to say, that ignorance condemns more princes and persons of high rank than people of the lowest condition; and that the mean complaisance which is paid to them is more dishonourable to the ministry, and is the cause of more reproach to religion, than the most notorious scandals which afflict the church.
The conduct of these priests appears base to you, my brethren: but, if you are disposed to enter into judgment with yourselves, and to follow yourselves through the detail of your duties, of your friendships, of your conversations, you will see that all your discourses and all your proceedings are merely mollifications of the truth, and temporisings, in order to reconcile it with the prejudices or the passions of those with whom it is your lot to live. We never hold out the truth to them but in a point of view in which it may please; in their most despicable vices we always find some favourable side; and, as all the passions have always some apparent resemblance to some virtue, we never fail to save ourselves through the assistance of that resemblance.
Thus, in the presence of an ambitious person, we never fail to hold forth the love of glory, and the desire of exalting one's self, only as tendencies which give birth to great men; we flatter his pride; we inflame his desires with hopes and with false and chimerical predictions; we nourish the error of his imagination by bringing phantoms within his reach, upon which he incessantly feasts himself. We perhaps venture, in general terms, to pity men who interest themselves so deeply for things which chance alone bestows, and of which death shall perhaps deprive us to-morrow; but we have not the courage to censure the madman, who, to that vapour, sacrifices his quiet, his life, and his conscience. With a vindictive person we justify his resentment and anger; we justify his guilt in his mind, by countenancing the justice of his accusations; we spare his passion in exaggerating the injury and fault of his enemy. We perhaps venture to say, how noble it is to forgive; but we have not the courage to add, that the first step toward forgiveness, is the ceasing to speak of the injury received.
With a courtier equally discontented with his own fortune, and jealous of that of others, we never fail to expose his rivals in the most unfavourable light: we artfully spread a cloud over their merit and their glory, lest they should injure the jealous eyes of him who listens to us; we diminish, we cast a shade over the fame of their talents and of their services; and, by our iniquitous crouchings to his passions, we nourish it, we assist him in blinding himself, and induce him to consider, as honours unjustly ravished from himself, all those which are bestowed upon his brethren. What shall I say? — With a prodigal, his profusions are no longer, in our mouths, but a display of generosity and magnificence. With a miser, his sordid callousness of heart, in which every feeling is lost, is no longer but a prudent moderation, and a laudable domestic economy. With a person of high rank, his prejudices and his
