nly had mass
celebrated in his chapel while he was well, and in his bedroom when ill.
But though I have reason to believe that the last Sacraments were
actually administered to him privately, a few days before his death, and
probably after confession, yet Count Montholon, from whom I derive
indirectly my information, also stated that he received Napoleon's
earliest and distinct directions to conceal all the preliminary
preparations for that melancholy ceremony from all his other companions,
and even to enjoin the priest, if questioned, to say he acted by Count
Montholon's orders, but had no knowledge of the Emperor's wishes.

It seems as if he had some desire for such assurance as the church could
give, but yet was ashamed to own it. He knew that some at St. Helena,
and more in France, would deem his recourse to such consolation,
infirmity; perhaps he deemed it so himself. Religion may sing her
triumph, Philosophy exclaim, "pauvre humanite," more impartial
skepticism despair of discovering the motive, but truth and history
must, I believe, acknowledge the fact. M. de Talleyrand, who, on hearing
of his death, spoke of his mental endowments, added the following
remarks:

"His career is the most extraordinary that has occurred for one thousand
years. He committed three capital faults, and to them his fall, scarce
less extraordinary than his elevation, is to be ascribed--Spain, Russia,
and the Pope. I say the Pope; for his coronation, the acknowledgment by
the spiritual head of Christendom that he, a little lieutenant of
Corsica, was the chief sovereign of Europe, from whatever motive it
proceeded, was the most striking consummation of glory that could happen
to an individual. After adopting that mode of displaying his greatness
and crowning his achievements, he should never, for objects
comparatively insignificant, have stooped to vex and persecute the same
Pontiff. He thereby outraged the feelings of the very persons whose
enmity had been softened, and whose imagination had been dazzled by that
brilliant event. Such were his capital errors. Those three apart, he
committed few others in policy, wonderfully few, considering the
multiplicity of interests he had to manage, and the extent, importance,
and rapidity of the events in which he was engaged. He was certainly a
great, an extraordinary man, nearly as extraordinary in his qualities as
in his career; at least, so upon reflection I, who have seen him near
and much, am