Page 80 - les-miserables

their summer palace, a convent of Urbanists, the Abbey of
Sainte Claire en Beaulieu, which I saved in 1793. I have done
my duty according to my powers, and all the good that I was
able. After which, I was hunted down, pursued, persecuted,
blackened, jeered at, scorned, cursed, proscribed. For many
years past, I with my white hair have been conscious that
many people think they have the right to despise me; to the
poor ignorant masses I present the visage of one damned.
And I accept this isolation of hatred, without hating any one
myself. Now I am eighty-six years old; I am on the point of
death. What is it that you have come to ask of me?’
‘Your blessing,’ said the Bishop.
And he knelt down.
When the Bishop raised his head again, the face of the
conventionary had become august. He had just expired.
The Bishop returned home, deeply absorbed in thoughts
which cannot be known to us. He passed the whole night
in prayer. On the following morning some bold and curi-
ous persons attempted to speak to him about member of
the Convention G——; he contented himself with pointing
heavenward.
From that moment he redoubled his tenderness and
brotherly feeling towards all children and sufferers.
Any allusion to ‘that old wretch of a G——‘ caused him
to fall into a singular preoccupation. No one could say that
the passage of that soul before his, and the reflection of that
grand conscience upon his, did not count for something in
his approach to perfection.
This ‘pastoral visit’ naturally furnished an occasion for a

80 Les Miserables