people who made him their tool, he remained, however,
St. Francois de Sales. Everything he has said or written, without
being free from blemishes, is charming, full of affection, of an
original gentleness and genius, which, though it may excite a smile, is
nevertheless very affecting. Everywhere we find, as it were, living
fountains springing up, flowers after flowers, and rivulets meandering
as in a lovely spring morning after a shower. It might be said,
perhaps, that he amuses himself so much with flowerets, that his
nosegay is no longer such as shepherdesses gather, but such as would
suit a flower-girl, as his Philothea would say: he takes them all, and
takes too many; there are some colours among them badly matched, and
have a strange effect. It is the taste of that age, we must confess;
the Savoyard taste in particular does not fear ugliness; and a Jesuit
education does not lead to the detestation of falsehood.

But even if he had not been so charming a writer, his bewitching
personal qualities would still have had the same effect. His fair mild
countenance, with rather a childish expression, pleased at first sight.
Little children, in their nurses' arms, as soon as they saw him, could
not take their eyes off him. He was equally delighted with them, and
would exclaim, as he fondly caressed them, "Here is my little family."
The children ran after him, and the mothers followed their children.

Little family? or little intrigue? The words (_menage manege_) are
somewhat similar; and though a child in appearance, the good man was at
bottom very deep. If he permitted the nuns a few trifling
falsehoods[5], ought we to believe he never granted the same indulgence
to himself? However it may be, actual falsehood appeared less in his
words than in his position; he was made a bishop in order to give the
example of sacrificing the rights of the bishops to the Pope. For the
love of peace, and to hide the division of the Catholics by an
appearance of union, he did the Jesuits the important service of saving
their Molina accused at Rome; and he managed to induce the Pope to
impose silence on the friends, as well as the enemies, of Grace.

This sweet-tempered man did not, however, confine himself to the means
of mildness and persuasion. In his zeal as a converter, he invoked the
assistance of less honourable means--interest, money, places; lastly,
authority and terror. He made the Duke of Savoy travel from village to