Part 1 Book 1 Chapter 12 The Solitude of Monseigneur Welcome
A bishop is almost always surrounded by a full squadron of little abbes, just as a general is by a covey of young officers. This is what that charming Saint Francois de Sales calls somewhere "les pretres blancs-becs," callow priests. Every career has its aspirants, who form a train for those who have attained eminence in it. There is no power which has not its dependents. There is no fortune which has not its court. The seekers of the future eddy around the splendid present. Every metropolis has its staff of officials. Every bishop who possesses the least influence has about him his patrol of cherubim from the seminary, which goes the round, and maintains good order in the episcopal palace, and mounts guard over monseigneur's smile. To please a bishop is equivalent to getting one's foot in the stirrup for a sub-diaconate. It is necessary to walk one's path discreetly; the apostleship does not disdain the canonship.
Just as there are bigwigs elsewhere, there are big mitres in the Church. These are the bishops who stand well at Court, who are rich, well endowed, skilful, accepted by the world, who know how to pray, no doubt, but who know also how to beg, who feel little scruple at making a whole diocese dance attendance in their person, who are connecting links between the sacristy and diplomacy, who are abbes rather than priests, prelates rather than bishops. Happy those who approach them! Being persons of influence, they create a shower about them, upon the assiduous and the favored, and upon all the young men who understand the art of pleasing, of large parishes, prebends, archidiaconates, chaplaincies, and cathedral posts, while awaiting episcopal honors. As they advance themselves, they cause their satellites to progress also; it is a whole solar system on the march. Their radiance casts a gleam of purple over their suite. Their prosperity is crumbled up behind the scenes, into nice little promotions. The larger the diocese of the patron, the fatter the curacy for the favorite. And then, there is Rome. A bishop who understands how to become an archbishop, an archbishop who knows how to become a cardinal, carries you with him as conclavist; you enter a court of papal jurisdiction, you receive the pallium, and behold! you are an auditor, then a papal chamberlain, then monsignor, and from a Grace to an Eminence is only a step, and between the Eminence and the Holiness there is but the smoke of a ballot. Every skull-cap may dream of the tiara. The priest is nowadays the only man who can become a king in a regular manner; and what a king! the supreme king. Then what a nursery of aspirations is a seminary! How many blushing choristers, how many youthful abbes bear on their heads Perrette's pot of milk! Who knows how easy it is for ambition to call itself vocation? in good faith, perchance, and deceiving itself, devotee that it is.
Monseigneur Bienvenu, poor, humble, retiring, was not accounted among the big mitres. This was plain from the complete absence of young priests about him. We have seen that he "did not take" in Paris. Not a single future dreamed of engrafting itself on this solitary old man. Not a single sprouting ambition committed the folly of putting forth its foliage in his shadow. His canons and grand-vicars were good old men, rather vulgar like himself, walled up like him in this diocese, without exit to a cardinalship, and who resembled their bishop, with this difference, that they were finished and he was completed. The impossibility of growing great under Monseigneur Bienvenu was so well understood, that no sooner had the young men whom he ordained left the seminary than they got themselves recommended to the archbishops of Aix or of Auch, and went off in a great hurry. For, in short, we repeat it, men wish to be pushed. A saint who dwells in a paroxysm of abnegation is a dangerous neighbor; he might communicate to you, by contagion, an incurable poverty, an anchylosis of the joints, which are useful in advancement, and in short, more renunciation than you desire; and this infectious virtue is avoided. Hence the isolation of Monseigneur Bienvenu. We live in the midst of a gloomy society. Success; that is the lesson which falls drop by drop from the slope of corruption.
Be it said in passing, that success is a very hideous thing. Its false resemblance to merit deceives men. For the masses, success has almost the same profile as supremacy. Success, that Menaechmus of talent, has one dupe,--history. Juvenal and Tacitus alone grumble at it. In our day, a philosophy which is almost official has entered into its service, wears the livery of success, and performs the service of its antechamber. Succeed: theory. Prosperity argues capacity. Win in the lottery, and behold! you are a clever man. He who triumphs is venerated. Be born with a silver spoon in your mouth! everything lies in that. Be lucky, and you will have all the rest; be happy, and people will think you great. Outside of five or six immense exceptions, which compose the splendor of a century, contemporary admiration is nothing but short-sightedness. Gilding is gold. It does no harm to be the first arrival by pure chance, so long as you do arrive. The common herd is an old Narcissus who adores himself, and who applauds the vulgar herd. That enormous ability by virtue of which one is Moses, Aeschylus, Dante, Michael Angelo, or Napoleon, the multitude awards on the spot, and by acclamation, to whomsoever attains his object, in whatsoever it may consist. Let a notary transfigure himself into a deputy: let a false Corneille compose Tiridate; let a eunuch come to possess a harem; let a military Prudhomme accidentally win the decisive battle of an epoch; let an apothecary invent cardboard shoe-soles for the army of the Sambre-and-Meuse, and construct for himself, out of this cardboard, sold as leather, four hundred thousand francs of income; let a pork-packer espouse usury, and cause it to bring forth seven or eight millions, of which he is the father and of which it is the mother; let a preacher become a bishop by force of his nasal drawl; let the steward of a fine family be so rich on retiring from service that he is made minister of finances,--and men call that Genius, just as they call the face of Mousqueton Beauty, and the mien of Claude Majesty. With the constellations of space they confound the stars of the abyss which are made in the soft mire of the puddle by the feet of ducks.
在将军的周围，常有成群的青年军官，在主教的周围，几乎也常有成批的小教士。这种人正是可爱的圣方济各·撒肋①在某处所说的那些“白口教士”。任何事业都有追求的人，追随着此中的成功者。世间没有一种无喽罗的势力，也没有一种无臣仆的尊荣。指望前程远大的人都围绕着目前的显贵奔走钻营。每个主教衙门都有它的幕僚。每个稍有势力的主教都有他那群天使般的小修士在主教院里巡逻，照顾，守卫，以图博取主教大人的欢心。获得主教的赏识，也就等于福星高照，有充当五品修士的希望了。求上进是人情之常，上帝的宗徒是不会亏待他的下属的。
①方济各·撒肋（FrancoisdeSales，1567?622），日内瓦主教，能文，重振天主教势力。
在别处有高大的帽子，教堂里也同样有嵬峨的法冠。这种人也就是那些主教，他们有势，有钱，坐收年息，手腕灵活，受到上层社会宠信，善于求人，当然也善于使人，他们指使整个主教区的教民亲自登门拜谒，他们充当教会与外交界之间的桥梁，他们足为教士而不足为神甫，足为教廷执事而不足为主教。接近他们的人都皆大欢喜！那些地位优越的人，他们把肥的教区、在家修行人的赡养费、教区督察官职位、随军教士职位、天主堂里的差事，雨一般的撒在他们周围的那些殷勤献媚，博得他们欢心，长于讨好他们的青年们的头上，以待将来再加上主教的尊贵。他们自己高升，同时也带着卫星前进；那是在行进中的整个太阳系。他们的光辉把追随着他们的人都照得发紫。他们一人得志，众人都荫余福高升。老板的教区越广，宠幸的地盘也越大，并且还有罗马在。由主教而总主教而红衣主教的人可以提拔你为红衣主教的随员，你进入宗教裁判所，你会得到绣黑十字的白呢飘带，你就做起陪审官来了，再进而为内廷机要秘书，再进而为主教，并且只须再走一步就由主教升为红衣主教了，红衣主教与教皇之间也不过只有一番选举的虚文。凡是头戴教士小帽的人都可以梦想教皇的三重冕。神甫是今天唯一能按部就班升上王位的人，并且那是何等的王位！至高无上的王位。同时，教士培养所又是怎样一种培植野心的温床！多少腼腆的唱诗童子，多少年轻的教士都顶上了贝莱特①的奶罐！包藏野心的人自吹能虔诚奉教，自以为那是轻而易举的事，也许他确有那样一片诚心，谁知道？沉迷久了，自己也就有些莫名其妙。
①拉封丹（LaFontaine）的寓言谈到一个送奶的姑娘，叫贝莱特，她头上顶一罐奶进城，一路梦想把奶卖了，可以买一百个鸡蛋，孵出小鸡养大，卖了买猪，猪卖了又买牛，牛生了小牛，她看见小牛在草地上跳，乐到自己也跳起来，把奶罐翻在地上，结果是一场空。
卞福汝主教谦卑、清寒、淡泊，没有被人列入那些高贵的主教里面。那可以从在他左右完全没有青年教士这一点上看出来。我们已经知道，他在巴黎“毫无成就”。没有一个后生愿把自己的前程托付给那样一个孤独老人。没有一株有野心的嫩苗起过想在他的庇荫了发绿的傻念头。他的那些教士和助理主教全是一些安分守己的老头儿，和他一样的一些老百姓，和他一同株守在那个没有福气产生红衣主教的教区里，他们就象他们的那位主教，不同的地方只是：他们是完了事的，而他是成了事的。大家都觉得在卞福汝主教跟前没有发迹的可能，以致那些刚从教士培养所里出来的青年人，经他任为神甫之后，便都转向艾克斯总主教或欧什总主教那里去活动，赶忙离开了他。因为，我们再说一次，凡人都愿意有人提拔。一个过于克己的圣人便是一个可以误事的伙伴，他可以连累你陷入一条无可救药的绝路，害你关节僵硬，行动不得，总之，他会要你躬行实践你不愿接受的那种谦让之道。因此大家都逃避那种癞疥似的德行。这也就是卞福汝主教门庭冷落的原因。我们生活在阴暗的社会里，向上爬，正是一种由上而下的慢性腐蚀教育。
顺便谈一句，成功是一件相当丑恶的事。它貌似真才实学，而实际是以伪乱真。一般人常以为成功和优越性几乎是同一回事。成功是才能的假相，受它愚弄的是历史。只有尤维纳利斯①和塔西佗②在这方面表示过愤慨。在我们这时代有种几乎被人公认为哲学正宗的理论，它成了成功的仆从，它标榜成功，并不惜为成功操贱役。你设法成功吧，这就是原理。富贵就等于才能。中得头彩，你便是一个出色的人才。谁得势，谁就受人尊崇。只要你的八字好，一切都大有可为。只要你有好运气，其余的东西也就全在你的掌握中了。只要你能事事如意，大家便认为你伟大。除了五六个震动整个世纪的突出的例外以外，我们这时代的推崇全是近视的。金漆就是真金。阿猫阿狗，全无关系，关键只在成功。世间俗物，就象那顾影自怜的老水仙③一样，很能赞赏俗物。任何人在任何方面，只要达到目的，众人便齐声喝彩，夸为奇才异能，说他比得上摩西、埃斯库罗斯④、但丁、米开朗琪罗或拿破仑。无论是一个书吏当了议员，一个假高乃依⑤写了一本《第利达特》⑥，一个太监乱了宫闱，一个披着军服的纸老虎侥幸地打了一次划时代的胜仗，一个药剂师发明了纸鞋底冒充皮革，供给桑布尔和默兹军区而获得四十万利弗的年息，一个百货贩子盘剥厚利，攒聚了七八百万不义之财，一个宣道士因说话带浓重鼻音而当上了主教，一个望族的管家在告退时成了巨富，因而被擢用为财政大臣，凡此种种，人们都称为天才，正如他们以穆司克东⑦的嘴脸为美，以克劳狄乌斯⑧的派头为仪表一样。他们把穹苍中的星光和鸭掌在烂泥里踏出的迹印混为一谈。
①尤维纳利斯（Juvénal），一世纪罗马诗人。
②塔西佗（Tacite），一世纪罗马历史学家。
③据神话，水仙在水边望见自己的影子，一往情深，投入水中，化为水仙花。
④埃斯库罗斯（Eschyle），古希腊悲剧家。
⑤高乃依（Corneille），法国十七世纪古典悲剧作家。
⑥第利达特（Tiridate），一世纪亚美尼亚国王。
⑦穆司克东（Mousqueton），大仲马小说《二十年后》中人物，是个贪吃懒动，红光满面的仆人。
⑧克劳狄乌斯（Claude），罗马政治活动家，恺撒的拥护者，前五八年为人民护民官。