edged by him, convicted him of
sacrilege and of dishonour. This ticklish job could best be performed,
not by a staid priest of the old Gallican school, who might have
insisted upon a categorical retractation of errors, upon his making
amends and upon his doing penance; not by a young Ultramontane of the
new school, against whom M. de Talleyrand would at once have been very
prejudiced, but by a priest who was a man of the world, well-read,
very little of a philosopher, and nothing of a theologian, and upon
those terms with the ancient classes which alone give the Gospel
occasional access to circles for which it is not suited. Abbe
Dupanloup, already well known for his success at the Catechism of the
Assumption among a public which set more store by elegant phrases
than doctrine, was just the man to play an innocent part in the comedy
which simple souls would regard as an edifying act of grace. His
intimacy with the Duchesse de Dino, and especially with her daughter,
whose religious education he had conducted, the favour in which he was
held by M. de Quelen (Archbishop of Paris), and the patronage which
from the outset of his career had been accorded him by the Faubourg
St. Germain, all concurred to fit him for a work which required more
worldly tact than theology, and in which both earth and heaven were to
be fooled.

It is said that M. de Talleyrand, remarking a certain hesitation on
the part of the priest who was about to convert him, ejaculated: "This
young man does not know his business." If he really did make this
remark, he was very much mistaken. Never was a priest better up in his
calling than this young man. The aged statesman, resolved not to erase
his past until the very last hour, met all the entreaties made to him
with a sullen "not yet." The _Sto ad ostium etpulso_ had to be brought
into play with great tact. A fainting-fit, or a sudden acceleration
in the progress of the death-agony would be fatal, and too much
importunity might bring out a "No" which would upset the plans so
skilfully laid. Upon the morning of May 17th, which was the day of
his death, nothing was yet signed. Catholics, as is well known, attach
very great importance to the moment of death. If future rewards and
punishments have any real existence, it is evident that they must be
proportioned to a whole life of virtue or of vice. But the Catholic
does not look at it in this light, and an edifying death-bed makes up
for all other things. Sa