The Sun.
London, England, 1866-08-31 00:00:00

Lacordaire's Apparition as a Preacher.

Some one—who it may be we know not—signing
himself with the Greek initial y—manifestly, how-
ever, a writer eminently well fitted for the noble
duty he has undertaken to discharge, that, namely,
of celebrating yet
,once more what Montalembert
has already so triumphantly vindicated in one of the
latest, and not by any means one of the least
among his writings, the career, the genius, and the
character of Lacordaire—has in the newly published
number of the Month, the number that is for Septem-
ber, commenced a series of charming papers on the
Great Dominican, a series headed simply LACORDAIRE.
From this first instalment—an instalment followed
immediately afterwards by a continuation cf Lady
Georgiana Fullerton's new serial story, entitled "A

Stormy Life; or, Queen Margaret's journal," and

by other contributions of a miscellaneous character
and of various merit—we transcribe the subjoined
passages descriptive of the selection of the grandest
of the modern Pulpit Orators of France for the com-

mencement of the famous Conferences de Notre
Dame and. the revelation then and there of his
matchless powers of oratory :
Ho began seriously to cast about for an opportunity
of carrying on his career as a preacher. It came, as it
seems, by a singular providence, of which ho has, in his
yet unpublished memoirs, left an account.

" One day, as I was crossing the garden of the Luxem-
bourg, I met an ecclesiastic whom I knew well. He
stopped, and said—' What are you doing ? You ought to
go to the archbishop and come to an understanding with
him.' A few steps further on, another priest, whom I
knew much less than the first one, stopped me, and said—
'ltis a mistake for you not to go to see the archbishop. I
have reason to think that he will be glad to talk with you.'
This double invitation surprised me. I was habitually
somewhat superstitious as to the ways of Providence, and
went slowly towards the Convent of S. Michel, not far
from the Luxembourg, where the archbishop then lived.
Instead of the porteress, a choir sister opened the door to
me—one who wished me well, as she used to say, because
everybody was opposed to me.' She told me that Mon-
seigneur had absolutely forbidden any ono to be ret in ;
but she added that she would go and tell him that I was
there; perhaps he would receive me. The answer was
favourable. I found the archbishop walking up and down
his room, seemingly sad and preoccupied. He welcomed
me very coldly, and I began to walk by his side without
his saying a word. After a long interval of silence, he
stopped short, turned to me with a piercing look of scru-
tiny, and said, I propose to confide to you the pulpit of
Notre Dame ; would you accept it ?' This brusque over-
ture of the secret history of which I was entirely ignorant,
caused me no sort of excitement. I replied that there was
but a short time now for preparation ; that the theatre was
a grand one; and that after having succeeded before a
smaller audience, it was easy to fail before an assembly of
four thousand souls. I asked for twenty-four hours' reflec-
tion ; and afterhaving prayed and taken counsel of Madame
Swetchine, I accepted the offer. It turned out that M.
l'Abbe Liautard, formerly Superior of the College Stanislas,
and then cure of Fontainebleau, had been for some weeks
circulating a manuscript among the clergy of Paris, in
which he blamed severely the administration of the Arch-
bishop. This memorial had been brought to the Archbishop
on the day of the scene which I have just related, and he
was just finishing it when Providence sent me to him. Of
course in this indictment mention was made of the Con-
ferences at the College ; and the Archbishop was taxed
with weakness and want of discernment for his conduct
towards me. Ido not know whether he had ever before
thought of opening to me the pulpit of Notre Dame ; but
when he saw me come to him at the very moment when
he was full of emotion at the judgment passed on his ad-
ministration by a man of ability, it is probable that the
coincidence, so unforeseen as to be almost marvellous,
struck him as an intimation from heaven, and that it flashed
across his soul that to raise me as Conferencier to the pulpit
of the metropolitan church would give him an overpower-
ing answer to his personal enemies."
It appears that the Archbishop had been urged by some
of the admirers of Lacordaire to commit to him the Con-
ferences at Notre Dame. They had been organised with
a view to the benefit of the largo class of young students
always to be found in Paris ; but hitherto their success
had not been very great, though many of the preachers
had been distinguished men. Perhaps the plan that had
been followed, of frequent changes in the preacher, had to
same extent prevented their having the commanding at-
tractions and influence which they attained in the hands
of Lacordaire. The leader of the band of petitioners to

the archbishop was Frederick Ozanam, a man eminent for
virtue and ability, whose name is ono of the glories of the
generation to which he belonged. With a handful of as-
sociates, young students like himself, he had begun the
great Society of St. Vincent of Paul—a work sufficient to
earn him the gratitude of all Catholics, even if he had not
afterwards rendered important services to Christian litera-
ture. This band of companions formed the nucleus of the
vast audience which assembled in Notre Dame to greet
the orator who had already made himself so famous at the
Coll6ge Stanislas—an immense crowd of all that was most
cultivated and thoughtfulin Paris, Deists and free-thinkers
as well as Catholics, drawn by the irresistible though
secret influence of the genius which had now at last found
the mode and the place destined by Providence for its ut-
terance, and made itself master of the minds and hearts of
listeners in the first few sentences of the opening
conference, because it spoke under the blessing and
with the ardhority of the Church to which its
services were vowed with rare singleness and
devotion. The humiliations of the Seminary, the priestly
consecration, the long silent studies at the Visitandines,
the experience of political agitation which had driven him
back to till:anterior life of a minister of the altar, the con-

flicts with himself which had issued in so glorious a sub-
mission to the adverse decision of Rome, the transforming
and elevating influences of the Holy City—all these had
had a share in the gradual preparation and training of one
on whom the archbishop, who had so long hesitated to
trust him fully, bestowed publicly, after his second course
of Confdrences, the title of "the new prophet." Nature had
done much for him, study much, and grace much more ;
and when he found himself for the first time looking down
on a sea of thousands of eager faces, in the great cathedral
of Paris, to speak of the subject on which he had so long
pondered in the way for which he felt himself most fit, the
last element of the success of the great orator was added to
him in the inspiration which comes from that most power-
ful challenge which can be given to one who feels himself
full of a divine message—the presence and attention of a
mighty multitude of souls.

It is characteristic of Lacordaire that his chief anxiety,
after his desire to use faithfully the occasions which Pro-
vidence had laid open to him, was on the score of Mgr. do
Quelen. His yet unpublished memoir—dictated, shortly
before his death, at the earnest request of 31. de Monta-
lembert—describe w sed in his mind on the day of
the first Conf6renceaking of the immense crowd
he says:—

" I ascended the pulpit, not without emotion, but still
with firmness. I. began my discourse, my eyes fixed on
the archbishop, wto was to me, after God, but before the
audience, the most important personage in the scene. He
listened to me with his head somewhat bowed, in a state
of absolute impassibility, like a man who was no mere spec-
tator, not even a judge, but who ran personal risk in this
momentous venture. When I had taken footing, as it
were, with my subject and nay audience ; when my chest
had expanded under the need of catching the attention of
so vast an assembly ; and when the warmth of inspiration
had taken the place of the calm of my opening passage,
bne of those exclamations escaped me whose accents, when
they are sincere and come from the heart, never fail to
move. The archbishop trembled visibly ; a paleness which
even I could see covered his face; he raised his bead and
looked on me with astonishment. I understood that the
battle was gained with him, as it was with the audience.
As soon as he returned home he gave out that he was
going to nominate me to an honorary canonry in his
cathedral. With much difficulty he was restrained, and
induced to wait till the course of sermons was finished."
The passage was probably the following, which suc-
ceeds to the opening of the first Conf6ronce. We give it
in French :

" Appel() h clever la voix au milieu do vous, non par ma
volonte propre, mais par cello du pontifo venerable qui
tient pour moi la place de Dieu, n'attendez pas, messieurs,
que je vous parle avec art. Si vous etes venus chercher
ici cos vains jeux do la parole, vous vous etes trompes.
Ah ! perisse l'eloquence du temps ! je ne demand() au Ciel
quo l'eloquence do l'eternite. Je ne lui demand() que la
verite et la charite do Jesus-Christ, et si le succes de la
grace accompagno cos discours, it prouvera qu'aujeurdhui
comme autrofois Dieu so sert de ce qui est petit pour con-
fondre ce qui est fort. Seigneur, it y a onze ans, prosterne
sur le pave do cette basilique, je depouillai les ornements
du mondo pour reveter l'habit de vos pretres ; je venais
chercher les biens quo vous avez promis h ceux qui vous
servent, en attendant qui je fusse moi-memo envoy() aux
autres. Vous m'avez donne ces biens; faites maintenant
que je les communique h mes freres ! Venez en aide h
votre serviteur, mettez une garde sur mos levres, afin
qu'olles soient fideles h mon cceur, comma mon cceur est
fickle h votro loi."

We find in these eloquent words a hint of the secret of
Lacordaire's wonderful s4ccess. • He had or ce been in the
same position with the majority of the vast crowd of men
of every age, every rank, every profession, who were lis-
texling to him ; and he was consumed by the desire of an
apostle's heart, burning to impart to his brethren the light
and grace which had been shed upon his own soul. When
in the first and second series of his Conferences—preached
in 1835 and 1836—he set before them the necessity and the
characteristics of the Church, and the nature and sources
of his doctrine in general, he not only spoke of the grandest
and most touching subject on which human eloquence can
be employed— grandest, because it deals with the whole range
of God's noblest works, and most touching, because it em-
braces the infinite condecension and tenderness with which
He has furnished a balm and a medicine for every one of
the ills of humanity—but he spoke also with the deep
feeling of one who had been saved from that state of intel-

lectual darkness and pride from which so many of hisau-
dience were struggling to escape, and from which it was
his mission to deliver them. Even if Lacordaire had not
possessed the great oratorical power with which he was
undoubtedly endowed as few men of modern times have
been endowed, still the depth of his conviction and the in-
tensity of his earnestness could hardly have failed to have
conquered his audience, allied as they were to that mas-
tery of his particularsubjcct which long study and thought
had given him. As was the case with Father de Raviguan
after him, he himself was a great part of his argument.
The Conferences de Notre Dame, considered as specimens
of oratory, are far too brilliant and too grand to need any
considerations of this sort in order that their readers may
be able to understand the effect they produced upon those
who heard them. But it is simply the truth that in this
case, as in others like it, it was the man who spoke that

made what he said irresistible ; because be first made him-
self one with those whom he addressed—sharing their
thoughts, their feelings, their noblest aspirations and most

passionate enthusiasms, elevating and gilding them with
light by the freshness and beauty with which his eloquence
clothed them; and when he had thus taken up his hearers
as it were into his own heart, ho swept them along the
course of that clear and majestic stream of reasoning which
had landed him, before them, on the shores of eternal
peace, at tho foot of the throne of truth.