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； 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 pose 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 mon 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 pose Tiridate； let a eunuch e 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 ine； 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 bee 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。
BOOK FIRSTA JUST MAN
CHAPTER XIII
WHAT HE BELIEVED
We are not obliged to sound the Bishop of D on the score of orthodoxy。
In the presence of such a soul we feel ourselves in no mood but respect。
The conscience of the just man should be accepted on his word。
Moreover； certain natures being given； we admit the possible development of all beauties of human virtue in a belief that differs from our own。
What did he think of this dogma； or of that mystery？
These secrets of the inner tribunal of the conscience are known only to the tomb； where souls enter naked。
The point on which we are certain is； that the difficulties of faith never resolved themselves into hypocrisy in his case。
No decay is possible to the diamond。 He believed to the extent of his powers。
〃Credo in Patrem；〃 he often exclaimed。
Moreover； he drew from good works that amount of satisfaction which suffices to the conscience； and which whispers to a man； 〃Thou art with God！〃
The point which we consider it our duty to note is； that outside of and beyond his faith； as it were； the Bishop possessed an excess of love。
In was in that quarter； quia multum amavit；because he loved muchthat he was regarded as vulnerable by 〃serious men；〃 〃grave persons〃 and 〃reasonable people〃； favorite locutions of our sad world where egotism takes its word of mand from pedantry。 What was this excess of love？
It was a serene benevolence which overflowed men； as we have already pointed out； and which； on occasion； extended even to things。
He lived without disdain。 He was indulgent towards God's creation。
Every man； even the best； has within him a thoughtless harshness which he reserves for animals。 The Bishop of D had none of that harshness； which is peculiar to many priests； nevertheless。
He did not go as far as the Brahmin； but he seemed to have weighed this saying of Ecclesiastes：
〃Who knoweth whither the soul of the animal goeth？〃
Hideousness of aspect； deformity of instinct； troubled him not； and did not arouse his indignation。
He was touched； almost softened by them。 It seemed as though he went thoughtfully away to seek beyond the bounds of life which is apparent； the cause； the explanation； or the excuse for them。
He seemed at times to be asking God to mute these penalties。
He examined without wrath； and with the eye of a linguist who is deciphering a palimpsest； that portion of chaos which still exists in nature。
This revery sometimes caused him to utter odd sayings。
One morning he was in his garden； and thought himself alone； but his sister was walking behind him； unseen by him：
suddenly he paused and gazed at something on the ground； it was a large； black； hairy； frightful spider。
His sister heard him say：
〃Poor beast！
It is not its fault！〃
Why not mention these almost divinely childish sayings of kindness？ Puerile they may be； but these sublime puerilities were peculiar to Saint Francis d'Assisi and of Marcus Aurelius。
One day he sprained his ankle in his effort to avoid stepping on an ant。 Thus lived this just man。
Sometimes he fell asleep in his garden； and then there was nothing more venerable possible。
Monseigneur Bienvenu had formerly been； if the stories anent his youth； and even in regard to his manhood； were to be believed； a passionate； and； possibly； a violent man。
His universal suavity was less an instinct of nature than the result of a grand conviction which had filtered into his heart through the medium of life； and had trickled there slowly； thought by thought； for； in a character； as in a rock； there may exist apertures made by drops of water。 These hollows are uneffaceable； these formations are indestructible。
In 1815； as we think we have already said； he reached his seventy…fifth birthday； but he did not appear to be more than sixty。
He was not tall； he was rather plump； and； in order to bat this tendency； he was fond of taking long strolls on foot； his step was firm； and his form was but slightly bent； a detail from which we do not pretend to draw any conclusion。
Gregory XVI。； at the age of eighty； held himself erect and smiling； which did not prevent him from being a bad bishop。
Monseigneur Wele had what the people term a 〃fine head；〃 but so amiable was he that they forgot that it was fine。
When he conversed with that infantile gayety which was one of his charms； and of which we have already spoken； people felt at their ease with him； and joy seemed to radiate from his whole person。
His fresh and ruddy plexion； his very white teeth； all of which he had preserved； and which were displayed by his smile； gave him that open and easy air which cause the remark to be made of a man； 〃He's a good fellow〃； and of an old man； 〃He is a fine man。〃
That； it will be recalled； was the effect which he produced upon Napoleon。
On the first encounter； and to one who saw him for the first time； he was nothing； in fact； but a fine man。
But if one remained near him for a few hours； and beheld him in the least degree pensive； the fine man became gradually transfigured； and took on some imposing quality； I know not what； his broad and serious brow； rendered august by his white locks； became august also by virtue of meditation； majesty radiated from his goodness； though his goodness ceased not to be radiant； one experienced something of the emotion which one would feel on beholding a smiling angel slowly unfold his wings； without ceasing to smile。
Respect； an unutterable respect； penetrated you by degrees and mounted to your heart； and one felt that one had before him one of those strong； thoroughly tried； and indulgent souls where thought is so grand that it can no longer be anything but gentle。
As we have seen； prayer； the celebration of the offices of religion； alms…giving； the consolation of the afflicted； the cultivation of a bit of land； fraternity； frugality； hospitality； renunciation； confidence； study； work； filled every day of his life。
Filled is exactly the word； certainly the Bishop's day was quite full to the brim； of good words and good deeds。
Nevertheless； it was not plete if cold or rainy weather prevented his passing an hour or two in his garden before going to bed； and after the two women had retired。 It seemed to be a sort of rite with him； to prepare himself for slumber by meditation in the presence of the grand spectacles of the nocturnal heavens。
Sometimes； if the two old women were not asleep； they heard him pacing slowly along the walks at a very advanced hour of the night。
He was there alone； muning with himself； peaceful； adoring； paring the serenity of his heart with the serenity of the ether； moved amid the darkness by the visible splendor of the constellations and the invisible splendor of God； opening his heart to the thoughts which fall from the Unknown。 At such moments； while he offered his heart at the hour when nocturnal flowers offer their perfume； illuminated like a lamp amid the starry night； as he poured himself out in ecstasy in the midst of the universal radiance of creation； he could not have told himself； probably； what was passing in his spirit； he felt something take its flight from him； and something descend into him。
Mysterious exchange of the abysses of the soul with the abysses of the universe！
He thought of the grandeur and presence of God； of the future eternity； that strange mystery； of the eternity past； a mystery still more strange； of all the infinities； which pierced their way into all his senses； beneath his eyes； and； without seeking to prehend the inprehensible； he gazed upon it。
He did not study God； he was dazzled by him。
He considered those magnificent conjunctions of atoms； which municate aspects to matter； reveal forces by verifying them； create individualities in unity； proportions in extent； the innumerable in the infinite； and； through light； produce beauty。 These conjunctions are formed and dissolved incessantly； hence life and death。
He seated himself on a wooden bench； with his back against a decrepit vine； he gazed at the stars； past the puny and stunted silhouettes of his fruit…trees。 This quarter of an acre； so poorly planted； so encumbered with mean buildings and sheds； was dear to him； and satisfied his wants。
What more was needed by this old man； who divided the leisure of his life； where there was so little leisure； between gardening in the daytime and contemplation at night？
Was not this narrow enclosure； with the heavens for a ceiling； sufficient to enable him to adore God in his most divine works； in turn？
Does not this prehend all； in fact？ and what is there left to desire beyond it？ A little garden in which to walk； and immensity in which to dream。 At one's feet that which can be cultivated and plucked； over head that which one can study and meditate upon：
some flowers on earth； and all the stars in the sky。
BOOK FIRSTA JUST MAN
CHAPTER XIV
WHAT HE THOUGHT
One last word。
Since this sort of details might； particularly at the present moment； and to use an expression now in fashion； give to the Bishop of D a certain 〃pantheistical〃 physiognomy； and induce the belief； either to his credit or discredit； that he entertained one of those personal philosophies which are peculiar to our century； which sometimes spring up in solitary spirits； and there take on a form and grow until they usurp the place of religion； we insist upon it； that not one of those persons who knew Monseigneur Wele would have thought himself authorized to think anything of the sort。 That which enlightened this man was his heart。
His wisdom was made of the light which es from t