2 All fathers of the ancient Church, with the exception of Bonaventura (ca. 1221–74), who was a theologian and adviser to Pope Gregory X.
The Red and the Black
Protestantism. And in addition to this rash exploration, nothing from the Fathers that might counterbalance such tendencies." But the director of the seminary was utterly astonished when, asking Julien about the pope's authority, and expecting to hear sayings of the church of ancient Gaul, the young man recited the entire book by the papal absolutist, de Maistre. "What a strange man, that Chélan," thought Father Pirard. "Did he teach him this book so he could make fun of it?" Trying to see if Julien took de Maistre's teachings seriously, he made further inquiries. In vain: Julien's responses drew only on his memory. And from then on, Julien felt really fine, and knew he was master of himself. After a very long examination, it seemed to him that Father Pirard's harshness was no more than a pretense. Indeed, had it not been for the settled rule of solemn austerity, maintained for fifteen years in dealing with his theological students, the director of the seminary would have thrown his arms around Julien, in the name of logic, for the abundant clarity, precision, and terseness of his answers. "Here's a bold, healthy spirit," he said to himself. "But corpus debile, a weak body." "Do you often fall down like that?" he asked Julien in French, pointing at the floor. "That was the first time in my whole life. The porter's face absolutely chilled my heart," he added, blushing like a child. Father Pirard came close to smiling. "That's what comes of the world's empty shows. You've clearly gotten used to laughing faces, which are true displays of falsity and lies. Truth is austere, sir. But our task in this world is also austere, is it not? How important it is, keeping your conscience on watch for the weakness of too much sensitivity to the world's empty charms. "Had you not been recommended to me," Father Pirard said, once more speaking in Latin, and with obvious pleasure, "if you had not been recommended to me by a man like Father Chélan, I would speak to you in the empty tongues of this world, with which you seem only too well acquainted. Obtaining the full scholarship you request, I must tell you, is the most difficult thing in the world. But Father Chélan would deserve very little, after fifty-six years of apostolic labor, if he could not command such a scholarship." Having said this, Father Pirard enjoined against Julien's participation in any secret society, or congregation, without his consent. "As to that, I give you my word of honor," said Julien, beaming like an honest man. The director of the seminary smiled for the first time. "We don't use those words here," he said. "They reek too much of the empty honor of worldly men, which lead them to commit so many errors, and often so many sins. According to paragraph seventeen of Pope Pius V's Bull, Unam Ecclesiam,3 I am owed your holy obedience. In this place, my very dear son, to hear is to obey. How much money do you have?" "Here we go," Julien said to himself. "That's why I'm now his very dear son." "Thirty-five francs, Father." "Make a careful record of how you spend your money. You will have to account to me for all of it." The whole painful performance had lasted three hours. Julien summoned the porter. "Put Julien Sorel in cell number 103," Father Pirard told the man. In a significant show of honor, he'd granted Julien quarters he had to share with no one. "Bring down his trunk," he added.