Jean Baptiste, one of the greatest pulpit orators of France, and in the pathetic department of sacred eloquence the first, was the son of François Massillon, a notary of Hières in Provence. He was born on the 24th of June 1663, and entered, when very young, into the college of the Oratory in that city. Whilst yet a boy, his favourite amusement was to collect around him his companions, and repeat to them the more striking portions of the sermons he had heard, which he declaimed in an agreeable and animated manner. Having been destined by his father for the profession of notary, he was early withdrawn from college; but as he never ceased to return thither at his leisure hours, the superiors, remarking his dispositions, addressed solicitations to his father, in order to obtain his permission to attach the youth to themselves; and, in the year 1681, young Massillon entered into the congregation, where he studied theology under Father Beauceau, afterwards bishop of Castres. He perused the sermons of Father Lejeune, which pleased him exceedingly; and he also made some essays of his own, which were thought good, but did not satisfy his own taste. In the year 1689, he wrote to Father Abel de Sainte-Marthe, general of the Oratory, that, as his talents and his inclination equally disqualified him for the pulpit, he conceived that some employment in teaching philosophy or theology would suit him better. Nevertheless, having been ordained priest, some panegyrics preached by him, in which instruction was happily blended with eulogium, determined his superior to direct his talents to the ministry of the pulpit. But Massillon dreading, as he said, the demon of pride, sought to escape the seductions of self-love, by devoting himself to retirement. It is one of the traditions of the Oratory, collected by D'Alembert, whose statement in this respect is beyond all suspicion, that he went to bury himself in the monastery of Sept-Fonts, the habit of which he assumed; but the abbot having instructed him to reply to Cardinal de Noailles, who had addressed an order to the head of the establishment, the surprise of the cardinal on receiving from this Thebaid an answer full of elegance and refinement, drew compliments to the abbot. The latter immediately named the young novice to the prelate; and as his eminence did not choose that so fine talents should remain longer concealed, Massillon was restored to the Oratory.

After having professed the belles-lettres and theology at Pézenas, Montbrison, and Vienne, and made some funeral orations, which were not the first he delivered (since Massillon himself says the contrary in the oration on M. de Villars), he was in 1696 called to Paris, where he was already known, to assume the direction of the seminary of Saint-Magloire. It was there that Massillon composed his first ecclesiastical Conferences. Although the tone of these compositions, which is simple enough, be different from that of his sermons, yet they are not deficient in vivacity, especially when he has occasion to describe the consequences of the disorder or ignorance of the clergy. They are also much more analogous to the amiable mood of his eloquence than the severer conferences which he composed at an advanced age. These preparatory exercises developed and fixed his talent. Hence, when Father de Latour asked him what he thought of the preachers of the capital, he replied, "I find them possessed of great genius and talent; but if I preach, I will not preach like them." He admired Bourdaloue too much ever to confound him with the preachers who were then followed. But he did not take him in everything as a model, because he wished to open a new path for himself. The pathetic grounded upon strong feeling and intimate self-knowledge was at that time entirely wanting to the eloquence of the The absurd mixture of profane and sacred maxims had already been banished from it; but subtle mysticism and extravagant metaphors had not yet yielded to the high reason and the austere eloquence of Bourdaloue. Massillon observed, that they were too much occupied with exterior manners, or vague and general moralities; and he sought in the heart of man the secret interests of the passions, in order to discover their motives, and combat the illusions of self-love by reason and sentiment, as well as by the attraction of happiness united to religion. Such indeed was the distinctive character of his eloquence.

At the period of the controversies which took place by order of Louis XIV., he was intrusted with a mission, and in 1698 went to preach during Lent at Montpellier, where he was warmly received, notwithstanding Bourdaloue had not been forgotten. The sermons of Father Lejeune, called the missionary of the Oratory, were, according to him, a mine from which he did not fail to derive profit; and he may, no doubt, have obtained some ideas from these discourses; but he must have been endowed with great facility to compose sermons so rich in developments, in which he perhaps indulged to excess, but which appear to arise the one from the other, and to spring forth, as it were, by a single impulse. Eight or ten days at the most were sufficient for those compositions which are so full of reason and unction. Being now known, he could no longer fly from his renown, which soon recalled him to the capital. It was in 1699 that he preached during Lent at Paris, in the church of the Oratory. The triumph which he then obtained would have intoxicated a preacher who had less self-knowledge, with, perhaps, greater pretensions to humility. On a particular occasion, being felicitated by one of his brethren on the admirable manner in which he had preached: "Stop, Father," said he; "the devil has already told it me more eloquently than you." Father Bourdaloue having gone to hear him, was so much satisfied with his appearance, that on seeing him descend from the pulpit, he pointed him out to his brethren who were inquiring his opinion, and observed to them in the words of the precursor of the Messiah, "Hunc oportet crescere, me autem minui." This, on the part of such a judge, was an humble acknowledgment of the excellence of that merit which shone forth, notwithstanding the retiring and modest demeanour of the orator. Massillon appeared in the pulpit, not with his eyes shut like the celebrated Jesuit, but with downcast looks, without gesture, and without parade. Nevertheless, when he warmed with his subject, his look and gesture became so expressive, that at a period when the sacred orators served as models to the declaimers of the stage, Baron, the celebrated actor, having gone to hear him, was so much struck with the correctness of his delivery, that he observed to one of his companions, "My friend, here is an orator; but as to us, we are only actors." The player, however, could only admire without being affected. But Laharpe has mentioned a circumstance which gives us a deeper insight into the real source of the preacher's power. It appears that a person belonging to the court, when on his way to see a new opera performed, found his carriage stopped by a double file of vehicles, one set of which were proceeding to the opera, and the other moving to the Quinze-Vingts, where Massillon was to preach. Impatient of the delay thus occasioned, he entered the church from curiosity, and immediately applied to himself the emphatic apostrophe, "Tu es elle vir," of the sermon on the Word of God. The man of the world heard the orator to the end, and, in going away, felt that he was altogether a different person from what he had been when he entered the church of the Quinze-Vingts.

At Versailles there was a general desire to hear Massillon. Being appointed preacher to the court for the advent of 1699, the father of the Oratory appeared there without pride and without timidity. As Fléchier had done in similar circumstances, he chose for the text of his first sermon, on All-Saints-Day, before a court which was wholly engrossed with the glory of the king, Beati qui lugent, Blessed are they who mourn. But, with infinite art, he employed dialogue as well as apostrophe, and dexterously put the eulogium in another mouth than that which had uttered the lesson: "If the world were speaking here in the place of Jesus Christ—Happy, would the world say, happy the prince who has never fought except to conquer. But, Sire, Jesus Christ does not speak like the world." It was after this first advent that Louis XIV. addressed to him, in presence of the whole court, the well-known words, "Father, I have heard several great orators, and I have been satisfied with them; but as to you, whenever I hear you, I am dissatisfied with myself." Massillon succeeded at Versailles as he had done at Paris. The court of Louis XIV., composed of sprightly and polished men, required to be moved rather than convinced. Massillon, in delineating the passions with that searching truth which destroys illusion, contented himself with opposing to the seductions of vice the delineations of a morality which he knew well how to render amiable and interesting, even to those whose inclinations he unveiled. In a word, the language of Massillon, though noble, was not the less simple, and adapted to the comprehension of the vulgar; it was always natural and just, without labour and without affectation, and hence it had equal attractions for persons of all classes. We cannot have a better proof of this than the rude but expressive remark of a common woman, who, finding herself pressed by the crowd entering Notre-Dame, where Massillon was to preach, exclaimed indignantly, in her peculiar idiom, "Ce diable de Massillon, quand il prêche, remue tout Paris."

The first time that he delivered his celebrated sermon on the small number of the Elect, was at Saint-Eustache. In his peroration, the orator, suddenly addressing himself to the assembly, "I suppose, my brethren," said he, "that this is your last hour, and the end of the world; that Jesus Christ is about to appear in his glory, in the midst of this temple, to judge us. Think you that he would find in it even ten righteous men? Appear; where are you? Remnant of Israel, pass to the right. Oh God, where are thine elect? and what remains for thy portion?" These few words produced a sudden movement; the whole auditory rose up, at once transported and dismayed. In the chapel of Versailles the same passage excited a similar commotion, which was shared by Louis XIV., and Massillon was observed to cover his face with his hands, and to remain silent for a few moments. This prosopopoeia, which still astonishes in the perusal, has been chosen by Voltaire in the article Eloquence in the Encyclopédie, as an example presenting "la figure la plus hardie, et l'un des plus beaux traits d'éloquence qu'on puisse lire chez les anciens et les modernes." The impression produced by the pathos of the discourses, as well as by the charm of the sentiments, with which the orator appeared penetrated, and which he diffused throughout the whole of his auditory, attracted to him numerous proselytes. Of these, one of the most distinguished was Count Rosemberg, nephew of Cardinal Forbin de Janson, who had been wounded at the battle of Marseille. Attack- ed by a painful malady, the consequence of this wound, he had recourse to a spiritual director, and did not call in vain upon Father Massillon. After his recovery he became a model of virtue, and, in retirement, led a most exemplary and edifying life.

In 1704, when Bossuet and Bourdaloue were both removed by death, Massillon preached a second Lent at court, and with such success that Louis XIV. expressed a desire to hear him every two years. But though henceforth without an equal, jealous mediocrity or rival intrigue kept him at a distance, and Massillon never again appeared in the pulpit of Versailles during the last years of the reign of Louis XIV., whose funeral oration he was destined to pronounce. In 1709, he likewise pronounced that of the Prince of Conti, in the church of Saint-André-des-Arcs. This discourse, which was much applauded when delivered, though criticised after it had been printed, was the only one which he gave to the public through the press. Soon afterwards, in his sermon on Aims, preached at Notre-Dame in Paris, the picture which he drew of the scarcity of 1709 moved even to tears all who heard it, and excited a commiseration which, so far from being a sterile and transitory sentiment, displayed itself in acts of beneficence.

To show the deep impression produced by this preacher, we may here relate an anecdote which is very well authenticated. The pious Rollin having conducted the boarders of the college of Beauvais to Saint-Leu, where Massillon was to preach on the Holiness of the Christian, these children, in listening to him, forgot the levity natural to their age; they returned to their school in profound silence, and several subjected themselves to privations, the rigour of which their good and kind master found it expedient to moderate. After the death of Fléchier, in 1710, Massillon, now the last remaining orator of that remarkable age, was called to pronounce at Sainte-Chapelle the funeral oration of the dauphin; a grand painting, in which he introduced portraits of Montausier and Bossuet, the preceptors of that prince. In 1715 he rendered a similar homage to the memory of Louis XIV. Taking as his text on this occasion the words of Solomon, Ecce magnus effectus sum, "Lo, I have become great," he commenced by repeating them slowly, seeming as it were to recollect himself; then he fixed his eyes on the assembly in mourning; next he surveyed the funeral enclosure, with all its solemn pomp; and, lastly, turning his eyes to the mausoleum erected in the midst of the temple—after some moments of silence, exclaimed, "Dieu seul est grand, mes frères," "My brethren, God alone is great." This sudden burst, worthy of Bossuet himself, is much more than a fine or happy expression; it is a profound and penetrating stroke of inspired eloquence, which in an instant reduced to nothing all the grandeur and the vanity of human life.

After more than twenty years spent in preaching, Massillon, promoted by the regent to the bishopric of Clermont, in 1717, was appointed to preach before the king during Lent. This was his last effort, but it is also his masterpiece. Racine was more than fifty when he produced his Athalie; Massillon had nearly attained his fifty-fifth year when he composed his Petit-Carême, which made him be called the Racine of the pulpit. It was in retirement, at a country-house belonging to the Oratory, that he completed, in six weeks, the ten sermons which formed the station (as it was called) of the court, and which, by reason of the tender age of the monarch, was reduced to a simple dominical, in other words, to the Sunday lectures or sermons. Although he had in view the instruction of the prince and of the great, it was rather as a parent than a master that he sought to convey it. Humanity, tenderness, goodness, are the motives which predominate in the sermons of Massillon; and to these he continually recurs, by painting the opposite qualities in the most striking colours. This might at first appear to circumscribe his eloquence in the moral part, and to betray him into repetitions; but, happily, the variety and richness of his expressions aggrandise the field of his discourses, which expands with every movement he makes, and thus affords him ample space to expatiate in, notwithstanding the fertility, and in some cases the redundancy, of his illustrations. The same motives, and above all that of humanity, prevail in his Petit-Carême; but refined views and delicate moralities compensate, by elegance and grace of expression, for the bolder ornaments and deep pathos of his ordinary style. An eloquence more gentle and more insinuating, because intended to make an impression upon a young prince, thus forms the characteristic of the Petit-Carême; it is in fact a new creation of the preacher, wherein the unction of paternal eloquence, which his mature age authorized him to assume, is happily blended with all those gentle and persuasive attractions calculated to make an impression upon the youthful mind. Marshal Villeroy having asked on the part of the king for the manuscript of the preacher, Louis XV. learned by heart the more beautiful passages of these sermons, which were the first he had heard. Several passages, particularly in the discourse on the Humanity of the Great, call to mind the verses of Racine, which, according to Voltaire, Massillon had by heart; but these imitations are so original that even Voltaire himself has, on more than one occasion, transposed them into his own verses. He had always on his desk the Petit-Carême, which he regarded as one of the best models of eloquence in prose; and Buffon, in his discourse on style, has pronounced the same judgment. Delicacies of manners so lively, so natural, and at the same time so touching, required only to be expressed in order to be felt. When the voice of Massillon was no longer heard, he was read and appreciated; and though the diffuseness of the style is rendered more sensible in reading than in hearing, yet this has in no degree enfeebled its vivacity, because the diction is at once the effusion of natural sentiment and the pure expression of reason.

When Massillon was promoted to the bishopric of Clermont on account of his eminent talents, he had not whereunto to pay his bulls, the expense of which was defrayed by the regent. He was consecrated by Cardinal Fleury, in presence of the king; and in the year 1719 he was received into the French Academy. But he was far from being dazzled by these honours, and soon set out for his diocese, which he only left, in 1721, to pronounce at St Denis the funeral oration of the Duchess of Orleans. Massillon, though he had acquired the episcopal dignity by great labour and success in preaching, did not think that this afforded him any dispensation from ascending the pulpit to instruct the people of his diocese; only he confined himself to familiar exhortations, which all could understand, and by which even the most ignorant could profit. With regard to his sermons, which are so full of eloquence, he confessed to Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld, his metropolitan, that the faithlessness of his memory having caused him to discontinue preaching them, they had entirely escaped from his recollection. The cardinal, however, exhorted him to revise them, for the purpose of final correction, and at the same time to compose instructions for the pastors of his diocese. The Bishop of Clermont followed this advice, and preached, or rather read, those episcopal Conferences, so full at once of earnestness and severity, in which, notwithstanding his age, and the known qualities of his eloquence, he displays a warmth and force which pastoral authority and zeal could alone have infused. His Discours Synodaux and his Mandements are, on the other hand, grave instructions, conveyed in language remarkable for simple and natural elegance. In a ritual, at once judicious and useful, he combined all the observances and Massinger all the practices necessary for the clergy of his diocese in the discharge of their ministerial functions.

The conduct of Massillon, as a pastor and bishop, corresponded to his zeal. He abolished those indecent processions which ages of ignorance had until then perpetuated amongst the people; and put down certain superstitious usages, of which mention is made in the Origines of Clermont. On the subject of the bull Unigenitus, respecting the liberties of the Gallican church, he directed that, for the sake of peace, it should be received; but he disapproved of the appeal, as contrary to the opinion of the majority of the bishops. All his actions were characterized by a wise and amiable moderation. At his country-house he took pleasure in assembling members of the Oratory and Jesuits, whom he engaged in parties at chess, at the same time enjoining them never to make war upon each other in any more serious contest. His charitable was not less effective than his religious zeal. He succoured the indigent with his pen as well as his credit. His letters on this subject equalled the most touching of his discourses, by the feelings of humanity which they raised, and the generous results which they produced. He is said to have remonstrated against the injustice of the war of 1741; and it is certain that he addressed the minister of the day on the excess of the imposts laid on the province of Auvergne, of which he obtained a considerable diminution. In a word, his whole life was a practical commentary on the divine precepts which he had so eloquently enforced; and he died, as he had lived, breathing sentiments of the most exalted piety, and leaving behind him neither money nor debts. His death, which was occasioned by apoplexy, took place on the 18th of September 1742.

The collection of the works of the Bishop of Clermont, made by his nephew, Father Joseph Massillon, priest of the Oratory and prefect of the College of Riom, is really the first. It contains, 1. Sermons to the number of nearly an hundred, of which the Petit-Carême discourses, though the last in date, form the first in order; 2. Conférences Synodaux, Mandements, et Discours Synodaux; 3. Paraphrase de Plusieurs Psaumes, thirty-one in number; 4. Pensées sur différents Sujets de Morale et de Piété; 5. Discours inédit sur le Danger de Mauvaises Lectures, followed by various other pieces; 6. Fragment of the Sermon delivered at the Quinze-Vingts, in presence of the Duchess of Orleans, forming part of the Morceaux Choisis de Massillon, ou Recueil de ce que ses écrits ont de plus parfait sous le rapport du style et de l'éloquence, published by Renouard, Paris, 1812; 7. Ritual du Diocèse de Clermont; 8. Lettres, eight in number. The Eloge de Massillon by D'Alembert was read to the French Academy in 1774, and printed in the first volume of the History of the Academy in 1779. Besides this Eloge, the reader may consult the Principes et le Essai sur l'Eloquence de la Chaire of the Abbé Maury, and the Cours de Littérature of Labarre, both of whom have criticised with ability the eloquence of Massillon. Marmontel, in his Mémoires, has traced a portrait of the venerable prelate, whom he had seen at Beauregard, a country-seat belonging to the bishopric of Clermont.

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