r dear master that is gone.
But if you are his brother, you have come too late to bid him good-bye.
The good gentleman died the night before last."

"How did he die?" Castanier asked of one of the priests.

"Set your mind at rest," said the old priest; he partly raised as he
spoke the black pall that covered the catafalque.

Castanier, looking at him, saw one of those faces that faith has made
sublime; the soul seemed to shine forth from every line of it, bringing
light and warmth for other men, kindled by the unfailing charity within.
This was Sir John Melmoth's confessor.

"Your brother made an end that men may envy, and that must rejoice
the angels. Do you know what joy there is in heaven over a sinner
that repents? His tears of penitence, excited by grace, flowed without
ceasing; death alone checked them. The Holy Spirit dwelt in him. His
burning words, full of lively faith, were worthy of the Prophet-King.
If, in the course of my life, I have never heard a more dreadful
confession than from the lips of this Irish gentleman, I have likewise
never heard such fervent and passionate prayers. However great the
measures of his sins may have been, his repentance has filled the abyss
to overflowing. The hand of God was visibly stretched out above him, for
he was completely changed, there was such heavenly beauty in his face.
The hard eyes were softened by tears; the resonant voice that struck
terror into those who heard it took the tender and compassionate tones
of those who themselves have passed through deep humiliation. He so
edified those who heard his words, that some who had felt drawn to see
the spectacle of a Christian's death fell on their knees as he spoke of
heavenly things, and of the infinite glory of God, and gave thanks and
praise to Him. If he is leaving no worldly wealth to his family, no
family can possess a greater blessing than this that he surely gained
for them, a soul among the blessed, who will watch over you all and
direct you in the path to heaven."

These words made such a vivid impression upon Castanier that he
instantly hurried from the house to the Church of Saint-Sulpice,
obeying what might be called a decree of fate. Melmoth's repentance had
stupefied him.

At that time, on certain mornings in the week, a preacher, famed for
his eloquence, was wont to hold conferences, in the course of which
he demonstrated the truths of the Catholic faith for the youth of a
generation proclaimed to