But now his life was drawing to a close, and symptoms of approaching death appeared on every side. For a long time he had been afflicted with a painful complaint, which he bore with less resignation than he had exhibited under political events; the attacks were very violent, and the prince became subject to constant fainting fits--warning symptoms of the approach of his last enemy. The total decay of Talleyrand was apparent to every body; the sharpness and delicacy of his wit every now and then shot forth a dying gleam, but the _man_ was at an end. His visits to the Tuileries were a most melancholy spectacle, a sad memorial of the nothingness of human greatness. Alas! that vast intellect was fast sinking into second childhood. His complaint was incurable; it was in the first place old age, and then, also, an old affection of anthrax, or white gangrene, for which he was obliged to undergo a very painful operation, and after it was performed the agonies of death followed in rapid succession. He was perfectly aware of the danger of his situation, and considered it a point of dignity not to appear alarmed, but went through all the proper etiquette with death. For a considerable time he had been in communication with a pious ecclesiastic in Paris; before him was the example of his family, and the recollection of his uncle the Cardinal, of blessed memory; and of late years his benefactions to the chapel of Valençay had been very great, both in magnificent donations and pious endowments. Though he had forgotten his religious obligations, he had never made an open profession of impiety, and had preserved a considerable degree of loftiness of mind, so that when the thought of death was presented to him he did not shrink from a retractation. No person was better aware of the weakness and puerile vanity of professed free-thinkers. This retractation was not the offspring of a sudden impulse; on the contrary, it had been concerted three months before with infinite care, as if it had been a diplomatic paper sent to the church. Full of submission, yet with a mixture of dignity, the prince addressed it to the sovereign pontiff, repenting all his participation in the scandals by which his life had been stained, particularly his adhesion to the civil constitution of the clergy; and he now acknowledged the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of Paris, and submitted to the Catholic laws of the holy see. This was the manner in which he prepared for death. Accounts of the state of his health were incessantly despatched to Neuilly; he had rendered great services to Louis Philippe, who had often consulted him and derived the benefit of his experience, and who was now resolved to pay a last visit to the last descendant of the Périgords. When the king was announced, the prince said with a feeble voice, but without any appearance of emotion, as if the attention were due to him,--"It is the greatest honour my house has received."