‘It’s impossible to know M. de Talleyrand thoroughly without liking him,’ he said. ‘All those who have come in close contact with him judge him as I do. He is an inexplicable, I might say indefinable, amalgam of simplicity and lofty thoughts, of grace and logic, of critical faculty and courteous tolerance. In one’s intercourse with him, one learns almost unconsciously the history and politics of all times, and thousands of stories in connection with every Court; his company is practically a guide through an enormous gallery, where events are as instructively depicted as personages.’ ‘And in spite of this, my dear Achille, how people have rent him to pieces! Is mediocrity always to exact such a heavy toll from talent for the latter’s success? For, if such be the case, the only happy people are those whose obscurity does not breed envy in others.’ ‘History will reward M. de Talleyrand for the evil his contemporaries have said of him. When, in the course of a long and difficult career, a statesman has preserved a great number of faithful friends, and counts but few enemies, one feels bound to credit him with having been wise and moderate, honourable and thoroughly able. In the prince’s case, the heart is even better than the ability. Not long ago, M. de R---- came to borrow twenty thousand francs of him. M. de Talleyrand lent them. A month later the news came that in consequence of business reverses, M. de R---- had blown his brains out. “I am glad I did not refuse him the money,” exclaimed M. de Talleyrand, and one sentence like this suffices to paint the man. ‘But,’ Rouen went on, ‘what is the circumstance to which he lately referred during a conversation, and which he said might have considerably influenced your life?’