I knew a man – a priest – who spoke in almost the same tone in his room, in a church, and in a lecture hall; who expressed himself in almost the same terms whether before little children or among philosophers; who said the same thing to infidels or our modern society, to pagans from the Far East, and to the faithful. In his discourse, which never attained eloquence, the machinery of proof was always reduced to a minimum; there was no debate; it was as free before strangers as in a group of intimate friends. His politeness – exquisite by the way – ignored the conventional pleasantries. Never a man, in a sense, who was less “adapted” [to deliberate popularization]. But this man was all things to all men, and of his plenitude everybody partook.