But what he really found himself undertaking was a wrestling-match with Dr. Errington. The struggle over St. Edmund's College grew more and more acute. There were high words in the Chapter， where Monsignor Searle led the assault against the Provost， and carried a resolution declaring that the Oblates of St. Charles had intruded themselves illegally into the Seminary. The Cardinal quashed the proceedings of the Chapter； whereupon， the Chapter appealed to Rome. Dr. Errington， carried away by the fury of the controversy， then appeared as the avowed opponent of the Provost and the Cardinal. With his own hand he drew up a document justifying the appeal of the Chapter to Rome by Canon Law and the decrees of the Council of Trent. Wiseman was deeply pained： 'My own coadjutor，' he exclaimed， 'is acting as solicitor against me in a lawsuit.' There was a rush to Rome， where， for several ensuing years， the hostile English parties were to wage a furious battle in the antechambers of the Vatican. But the dispute over the Oblates now sank into insignificance beside the rage of contention which centred round a new and far more deadly question； for the position of Dr. Errington himself was at stake.
The Cardinal， in spite of illness， indolence， and the ties of friendship， had been brought at last to an extraordinary step--he was petitioning the Pope for nothing less than the deprivation and removal of the Archbishop of Trebizond.
The precise details of what followed are doubtful. It is only possible to discern with clearness， amid a vast cloud of official documents and unofficial correspondences in English， Italian， and Latin， of Papal decrees and voluminous scritture， of confidential reports of episcopal whispers and the secret agitations of Cardinals， the form of Manning， restless and indomitable， scouring like a stormy petrel the angry ocean of debate. Wiseman， dilatory， unbusinesslike， and infirm， was ready enough to leave the conduct of affairs in his hands. Nor was it long before Manning saw where the key of the whole position lay. As in the old days， at Chichester， he had secured the goodwill of Bishop Shuttleworth by cultivating the friendship of Archdeacon Hare， so now， on this vaster scale of operations， his sagacity led him swiftly and unerringly up the little winding staircase in the Vatican and through the humble door which opened into the cabinet of Monsignor Talbot， the private secretary of the Pope. Monsignor Talbot was a priest who embodied in a singular manner， if not the highest， at least the most persistent traditions of the Roman Curia. He was a master of various arts which the practice of ages has brought to perfection under the friendly shadow of the triple tiara. He could mingle together astuteness and holiness without any difficulty； he could make innuendoes as naturally as an ordinary man makes statements of fact； he could apply flattery with so unsparing a hand that even Princes of the Church found it sufficient； and， on occasion， he could ring the changes of torture on a human soul with a tact which called forth universal approbation. With such accomplishments， it could hardly be expected that Monsignor Talbot should be remarkable either for a delicate sense of conscientiousness or for an extreme refinement of feeling， but then it was not for those qualities that Manning was in search when he went up the winding stair. He was looking for the man who had the ear of Pio Nono； and， on the other side of the low-arched door， he found him. Then he put forth all his efforts； his success was complete； and an alliance began which was destined to have the profoundest effect upon Manning's career， and was only dissolved when， many years later， Monsignor Talbot was unfortunately obliged to exchange his apartment in the Vatican for a private lunatic asylum at Passy.
It was determined that the coalition should be ratified by the ruin of Dr. Errington. When the moment of crisis was seen to be approaching， Wiseman was summoned to Rome， where he began to draw up an immense scrittura containing his statement of the case. For months past， the redoubtable energies of the Archbishop of Trebizond had been absorbed in a similar task. Folio was being piled upon folio， when a sudden blow threatened to put an end to the whole proceeding in a summary manner. The Cardinal was seized by violent illness， and appeared to be upon his deathbed. Manning thought for a moment that his labours had been in vain and that all was lost. But the Cardinal recovered； Monsignor Talbot used his influence as he alone knew how； and a papal decree was issued by which Dr. Errington was 'liberated' from the Coadjutorship of Westminster， together with the right of succession to the See.
It was a supreme act of authority--a 'colpo di stato di Dominiddio'， as the Pope himself said--and the blow to the Old Catholics was correspondingly severe. They found themselves deprived at one fell swoop both of the influence of their most energetic supporter and of the certainty of coming into power at Wiseman's death. And in the meantime， Manning was redoubling his energies at Bayswater. Though his Oblates had been checked over St. Edmund's， there was still no lack of work for them to do.
There were missions to be carried on， schools to be managed， funds to be collected. Several new churches were built； a community of most edifying nuns of the Third Order of St. Francis was established； and ā30，000， raised from Manning's private resources and from those of his friends， was spent in three years. 'I hate that man，' one of the Old Catholics exclaimed， 'he is such a forward piece.' The words were reported to Manning， who shrugged his shoulders. 'Poor man，' he said， 'what is he made of？
