Meanwhile the officiating priest in the pulpit gravely comments on this article, already clear enough, at every morning or evening service;[51109] by order, he preaches in behalf of the conscription and declares that it is a sin to try to escape from it, to be refractory; by order, again, he reads the army bulletins giving accounts of the latest victories; always by order, he reads the last pastoral letter of his bishop, a document authorized, inspired and corrected by the police.

Not only are the bishops obliged to submit their pastoral letters and public instructions to the censorship; not only by way of precaution, are they forbidden to print anything except on the prefecture presses, but again, for still greater security, the bureau of public worship is constantly advising them what they must say.

First and foremost, they must laud the Emperor.

But in what terms, and with what epithets, without indiscretion or mistake, in order not to meddle with politics, not to appear as a party managed from above, not to pass for megaphones, is not explained, and is therefore a difficult matter.

"You must praise the Emperor more in your pastoral letters," said Real, prefect of police, to a new bishop.