“The flesh is very corrupt then?—­You see that it is.

“I cannot wonder therefore that you tell us we must hate our flesh and hold our own bodies in horror; and that man, in his present condition, is fated to be accursed, vilified and persecuted.—­No, I can no longer feel surprise at this.  In truth, there is no form of misfortune and suffering but which he may expect his flesh to bring down upon him.  You are right; all the hatred, malediction, and persecution which beset the demon must also beset the flesh and all its motions.

“There is, then, no extremity of insult too great to be put up with and to be looked upon as deserved?—­No.

“Contempt, insult, and calumny should not then disturb our peace of mind?—­No.  We should behave like the saint of former days, who was led to the scaffold for a crime which he had not committed, and from which he would not attempt to exculpate himself, as he said to himself that he should have been guilty of this crime and of many far worse but for the preventing grace of God.

“Men, angels, and God Himself ought, therefore to persecute us without ceasing?  Yes, so it ought to be.

“What! do you mean to say that sinners ought to be poor and bereft of everything, like the demons?—­Yes, and more than that.  Sinners ought to be placed under an interdict in regard to all their corporal and spiritual faculties, and bereft of all the gifts of God.”

A hero of Christian humility, Olier was acting as he thought for the best in making a mock of human nature and dragging it through the mire.  He had visions, and was favoured with inner revelations of which the autographic account, written for his director, is still at St. Sulpice.  He stops short in his writing to make such reflections as these:  “My courage is at times utterly cast down when I see what impertinences I have been writing.  They must, I think, be a great waste of time for my good director, whom I am afraid of amusing.  I pity him for having to spend his time in reading them, and it seems to me that he ought to stop my writing this intolerable frivolity and impertinence.”

But Olier, like nearly all the mystics, was not merely a strange dreamer, but a powerful organizer.  Entering very young into holy orders, he was appointed, through the influence of his family, priest of the parish of St. Sulpice, which was then attached to the Abbey of Saint-Germain des Pres.  His tender and susceptible piety took umbrage at many things which had hitherto been looked upon as harmless—­for instance, at a tavern situated in the charnel-house of the church and frequented by the choristers.  His ideal was a clergy after his own image—­pious, zealous, and attached to their duties.  Many other saintly personages were labouring towards the same end, but Olier set to work in very original fashion.  Adrien de Bourdoise alone took the same view as he did of ecclesiastical reform.  What was truly novel in the idea of these two founders was to try and effect the improvement of the secular clergy by means of institutions for priests mixing with the world and combining the cure of souls with the training of students for the Church.