His manners were neither severe nor hypocritical.  He; himself confessed that he loved with legitimate and pure; affection Madame Carron, who followed him every where, even to churches and clubs.  “They calumniated me with respect to her,” he said, “and I attached myself the more strongly to her, and yet I am pure.  You have seen her, even more lovely in mind than face, and who for the ten years I have known her seems to me daily more worthy of being loved.  She would lay down her life for me; I would resign my life for her; but I would never sacrifice my duty to her.  In spite of the malignant libels of the aristocrats, I shall go every day at breakfast-time to taste the charms of the purest friendship in her society.  She comes to hear me preach!  Yes, no doubt of it; no one knows better than herself the sincerity with which I believe in the truths I profess.  She comes to the assemblies of the Hotel-de-Ville!  Yes, no doubt of it:  it is because she is convinced that patriotism is a second religion, that no hypocrisy is in my soul, and that my life is really devoted to God, to my country, and friendship.”

“And you dare to assert that you are chaste,” retorted the faithful and indignant priests, by the Abbe de Valmeron.  “How absurd!  Chaste, at the moment when you confess the most unpardonable inclinations; when you attract a woman from the bed of her husband—­her duties as a mother—­when you take about every where this infatuated female, attached to your footsteps, in order to display her ostentatiously to the public gaze!  And who follow, sir!  A troop of ruffians and abandoned women.  Worthy pastor of this foul populace, which celebrates your pastoral visit by the only rejoicings that can give you pleasure—­your progress is marked by every excess of rapine and debauchery.”  These bitter reproaches resounded in the provinces, and caused great excitement.  The conforming and nonconforming priests were disputing the altars.  A letter from the minister of the interior came to authorise the nonjuring priests to celebrate the holy sacrifice in the churches where they had previously done duty.  Obedient to the law, the constitutional priests opened to them their chapels, supplied them with the ornaments necessary for divine worship; but the multitude, faithful to their ancient pastors, threatened and insulted the new clergy.  Bloody struggles took place between the two creeds on the very threshold of God’s house.  On Friday, November the 4th, the former cure of the parish of Saint Jean, at Caen, came to perform the mass.  The church was full of Catholics.  This meeting offended the constitutionalists and excited the other party.  The Te Deum, as a thanksgiving, was demanded and sung by the adherents of the ancient cure, who, encouraged by this success, announced to the faithful that he should come again the next day at the same hour to celebrate the sacrament.  “Patience!” he added; “let us be prudent, and all will be well.”