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CHAPTER 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 of-
ficers. 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 splen-
did 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 mi-
tres in the Church. These are the bishops who stand well at
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