His correspondence with the other brother，the ex-prefect，a fine，worthy man who lived in retirement at Paris，Rue Cassette，remained more affectionate.
Thus Monseigneur Bienvenu also had his hour of party spirit，his hour of bitterness，his cloud.
The shadow of the passions of the moment traversed this grand and gentle spirit occupied with eternal things.Certainly，such a man would have done well not to entertain any political opinions.
Let there be no mistake as to our meaning：we are not confounding what is called'political opinions'with the grand aspiration for progress，with the sublime faith，patriotic，democratic，humane，which in our day should be the very foundation of every generous intellect.
Without going deeply into questions which are only indirectly connected with the subject of this book，we will simply say this：
It would have been well if Monseigneur Bienvenu had not been a Royalist，and if his glance had never been，for a single instant，turned away from that serene contemplation in which is distinctly discernible，above the fictions and the hatreds of this world，above the stormy vicissitudes of human things，the beaming of those three pure radiances，truth，justice，and charity.
While admitting that it was not for a political office that God created Monseigneur Welcome，we should have understood and admired his protest in the name of right and liberty，his proud opposition，his just but perilous resistance to the all-powerful Napoleon.But that which pleases us in people who are rising pleases us less in the case of people who are falling.
We only love the fray so long as there is danger，and in any case，the combatants of the first hour have alone the right to be the exterminators of the last.
He who has not been a stubborn accuser in prosperity should hold his peace in the face of ruin.
The denunciator of success is the only legitimate executioner of the fall.As for us，when Providence intervenes and strikes，we let it work.1812 commenced to disarm us.
In 1813 the cowardly breach of silence of that taciturn legislative body，emboldened by catastrophe，possessed only traits which aroused indignation.
And it was a crime to applaud，in 1814，in the presence of those marshals who betrayed；in the presence of that senate which passed from one dunghill to another，insulting after having deified；in the presence of that idolatry which was loosing its footing and spitting on its idol，——it was a duty to turn aside the head.
In 1815，when the supreme disasters filled the air，when France was seized with a shiver at their sinister approach，when Waterloo could be dimly discerned opening before Napoleon，the mournful acclamation of the army and the people to the condemned of destiny had nothing laughable in it，and，after ****** all allowance for the despot，a heart like that of the Bishop of D——，ought not perhaps to have failed to recognize the august and touching features presented by the embrace of a great nation and a great man on the brink of the abyss.
With this exception，he was in all things just，true，equitable，intelligent，humble and dignified，beneficent and kindly，which is only another sort of benevolence.
He was a priest，a sage，and a man.
It must be admitted，that even in the political views with which we have just reproached him，and which we are disposed to judge almost with severity，he was tolerant and easy，more so，perhaps，than we who are speaking here.
The porter of the town-hall had been placed there by the Emperor.
He was an old non-commissioned officer of the old guard，a member of the Legion of Honor at Austerlitz，as much of a Bonapartist as the eagle.This poor fellow occasionally let slip inconsiderate remarks，which the law then stigmatized as seditious speeches.
After the imperial profile disappeared from the Legion of Honor，he never dressed himself in his regimentals，as he said，so that he should not be obliged to wear his cross.
He had himself devoutly removed the imperial effigy from the cross which Napoleon had given him；this made a hole，and he would not put anything in its place.'I will die，'he said，'rather than wear the three frogs upon my heart！'
He liked to scoff aloud at Louis XVIII.
'The gouty old creature in English gaiters！'he said；'let him take himself off to Prussia with that queue of his.'
He was happy to combine in the same imprecation the two things which he most detested，Prussia and England.
He did it so often that he lost his place.There he was，turned out of the house，with his wife and children，and without bread.
The Bishop sent for him，reproved him gently，and appointed him beadle in the cathedral.
In the course of nine years Monseigneur Bienvenu had，by dint of holy deeds and gentle manners，filled the town of D——with a sort of tender and filial reverence.
Even his conduct towards Napoleon had been accepted and tacitly pardoned，as it were，by the people，the good and weakly flock who adored their emperor，but loved their bishop.
Ⅻ 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.
