APPENDIX.

MONTALEMBERT'S speech was afterwards published in the _Moniteur_ but with

considerable alterations. In Mr. Senior's journal in 1854 (which has not

been published), he says, under the date of April 26, I called on

Montalembert and took him my report of his speech. He has promised to add

to it any notes that it may require. "The printed report," he said, "is

intentionally falsified. Before it was struck off I asked to see the

proofs. I was told that, as such an application was new, the President of

the Bureau would meet and decide on its admissibility. They decided that

it could not be granted."'

[The following is Mr. Senior's report, with M. de Montalembert's own

corrections and additions in French.--ED.]

At length Montalembert rose. He stood near the extreme right, with his

side towards the tribune, and his face towards the centre gallery, in

which I sat. His voice and delivery are so good, and the house was so

silent, that I did not lose a word. I believe that the following report

is a tolerably accurate abridgment of his speech.

'Gentlemen, I must begin by expressing to you my deep gratitude for the

attention which you have paid to this unhappy business. I am grieved at

having occasioned the waste of so much public time. I am still more

grieved at having been the occasion of division among my colleagues.'

[_Note by Montalember_.--'J'aurais voulu faire plus qu'exprimer le

regret: j'aurais voulu me prêter à tous les arrangements qui m'ont été

suggérés par des voix amies pour mettre un terme à cette discussion. Je

n'aurais reculé devant aucun sacrifice qui eût été compatible avec

l'honneur. Mais vous comprenez tous que sous le coup d'une poursuite,

d'un danger, je ne puis rien désavouer, rien rétracter, rien retirer de

ce que j'ai écrit, de ce que j'ai pensé. Si j'agissais autrement il vous

resterait un collègue absous, mais déshonoré et dont vous ne sauriez que

faire.']

'More than all I am grieved when I think of the time at which this has

occurred. A time when we are engaged in an honourable and serious war--a

war in which, with the great and faithful ally whom I have always

desired, and the sympathy of all Europe, we are defending civilisation

against an enemy, barbarous indeed, but so formidable as to require our

undivided energy and our undivided attention.

But you must recollect _when_ that letter was written. It was in last

September, in profound peace, when our whole thoughts were employed, and

were properly employed, on our internal affairs.

'Aujourd'hui il en est autrement; l'état de guerre impose à tous les

citoyens des devoirs spéciaux: il doit aussi imposer un certain frein à

l'esprit de critique. Aucun Français, quel que soit sa foi politique, ne

peut vouloir discréditer le pouvoir des dissidents, des mécontents, mais

il n'y a plus d'émigrés, ni à l'intérieur, ni à l'extérieur.'

[_Note by N.W. Senior._--This seems to be an allusion to a passage in

Thiers's celebrated speech of the 17th of February, 1851. 'I1 ne faut

émigrer, ni au dehors, ni au dedans.']

['J'aurais su contenir les sentiments les plus passionés de mon âme,

plutôt que de paraître affaiblir en quoi que ce soit la main qui porte

l'épée et le drapeau de la France. Ce n'est pas toutefois que j'admette

que toute liberté de parole ou de presse soit incompatible avec l'état de

guerre. L'Angleterre a conservé toutes ses libertés en faisant la guerre

aux plus redoutables ennemis: aujourd'hui encore l'opposition, d'accord

avec le gouvernement sur la question extérieure, maintient les

résistances et les critiques à l'intérieur. Et certes personne ne dira

que l'Angleterre, pour avoir conservé la liberté de discussion la plus

entière, n'ait pas déployé pour le moins autant de prévoyance et

d'énergie que nous dans la conduite de la guerre où nous entrons. Il n'y

a que les nations où la vie publique circule dans toutes les veines du

corps social, qui sachent résister aux épreuves et aux chances d'une

guerre prolongée. La liberté de la contradiction centuple le prix d'une

libre adhésion; et à force de mettre une sourdine à toutes les émotions

du pays, il faut prendre garde qu'on ne se trouve un jour dans

l'impossibilité de faire vibrer les cordes les plus essentielles quand le

moment des dangers et des sacrifices sera arrivé.']

'I deeply regret the publication of that letter. But with that

publication I repeat that I am utterly unconnected. I never sanctioned

it, I never wished for it, I never even thought it possible. There are

passages in the letter itself which I might modify if I were to re-write

it, but it would rather be by adding to them than by taking from them.

Two accusations have been directed against its substance. One that it is

hostile to the Emperor; the other that it is hostile to this assembly. No

one who knows my character, and knows my history, will believe that I can

have intended to injure the Emperor. Our relations have been such as to

make it impossible.

['J'ai eu l'occasion de défendre le chef actuel de l'État dans des

circonstances infiniment difficiles, et où rien n'était plus douteux que

le succès. Je ne prétends pas l'avoir constitué par cela mon débiteur,

car en le défendant, je ne voulais servir, comme toujours, que la

justice, l'intérêt du pays, la liberté modérée qui se personnifiaient en

lui à mes yeux, mais enfin, aux yeux du public il est mon obligé, et je

ne suis pas le sien. Si j'avais eu la pensée d'offenser publiquement

l'Empereur, et si j'y avais cédé, nous serions _quittes_. Or, je tiens

beaucoup à ce que nous ne le soyons pas. Il n'y aurait pour moi ni

honneur ni avantage à ce changement de position. Tous les hommes de bon

goût, tous les coeurs délicats, me comprendront.']

'It is equally impossible that I should have wished to offend this

assembly. It contains men by whose sides I have fought the great battles

of property and law. I love many of its members. I respect almost all. If

I have offended any, it was done unconsciously. Again, it is said that

the tone of my letter is violent. Expressions may be called violent by

some which would be only called _passionnés_ by others. Now I admit that

I am _passionné_. It is in my nature. I owe to that quality much of my

merit, whatever that merit may be. Were I not _passionné_, I should not

have been, during all my life, _la sentinelle perdue de la liberté_. I

should not have thrown myself into every breach: sometimes braving the

attacks of anarchy, sometimes heading the assault on tyranny, and

sometimes fighting against the worst of all despotisms, the despotism

that is based on democracy.'

['Allons plus au fond, et vous reconnaîtrez que les opinions énoncées

dans la lettre ne sont autres que celles toujours professées par moi.

Elles peuvent toutes se ramener à une seule, à mon éloignement pour le

pouvoir absolu. Je ne l'aime pas: je ne l'ai jamais aimé. Si j'ai tant

combattu l'anarchie avant et après 1848, si j'ai suscité contre moi dans

le parti démagogique ces haines virulentes qui durent encore et qui ne

perdent jamais une occasion d'éclater contre moi, c'est parce que j'ai

compris de bonne heure les affinités naturelles du despotisme et de la

démocratie; c'est parce que j'ai prévu et prédit que la démocratie nous

conduirait au pouvoir absolu. Oui, je crois, comme je l'ai dit, que le

despotisme abaisse les caractères, les intelligences, les consciences.

Oui, je déplore le système qui rend un seul homme tout-puissant et seul

responsable des destinées d'une nation de 36 millions d'hommes; et trouve

que cela ressemble trop au gouvernement russe, contre lequel nous allons

en guerre, et trop peu au gouvernement anglais, dont nous prisons si haut

l'alliance.']

'I am told again, and the accusation is sanctioned by the _réquisitoire_

of the Procureur-Général, that my letter is inconsistent with the

fidelity which I have sworn to the Emperor and to the constitution. When

a man swears fidelity to a sovereign and to a constitution, his oath

engages him only as to matters within his own power. He swears not to

conspire against them. He swears not to attempt to subvert them. He

cannot swear to approve the acts of the sovereign, or the working of the

constitution, for he cannot foresee what either of them will be. I have

kept, and I shall keep, my oath to the Emperor and my oath to the

constitution. I have not attempted, and I shall not attempt, to overthrow

either of them. But my approbation of either of them does not depend on

me. I accepted the _coup d'état_, comme vous l'avez tous fait, comme

notre seule chance de salut dans les circonstances d'alors. I expected

a Government _honnête et modéré_. I have been disappointed.'

Here a violent exclamation ran through the assembly. Baroche rose and

cried out, 'You hear him, gentlemen. He says that he expected honesty and

moderation from the Government, and that he has been disappointed. I

appeal to you, Mr. President, to decide whether we are to sit and listen

to such infamies.'

[Voix diverses:--'Expliquez vos paroles.' 'Retirez vos paroles.' M. de

Montalembert.--'Je les maintiens et je les explique.']

'I expected _un gouvernement honnête et modéré_. I have been

disappointed. Its _honnêté_ may be judged by the confiscation of the

Orleans property.'

Here was another hubbub, and another protest of Baroche's.

'What is going on before you,' continued Montalembert, 'is a sample of

its moderation. It is now attempting in my person to introduce into our

criminal law a new _délit_, "communication." Until now it was supposed

that nothing was criminal until it was published. It was believed that a

man might write his opinions and his reflections, and might exchange them

with his friends; that nothing was libellous that was confidential. _Now_

this Government holds a man responsible for every thought that an

indiscreet or an incautious friend, or a concealed enemy, or a tool of

power reveals. If it succeeds in this attempt, it will not rest satisfied

with this victory over the remnant of our freedom. It is not in the

nature of things that it should. A Government that will not tolerate

censure must forbid discussion. You are now asked to put down writing.

When that has been done, conversation will be attacked. Paris will

resemble Rome under the successors of Augustus. Already this prosecution

has produced a _malaise_ which I never felt or observed before. What will

be the feelings of the nation when all that is around it is concealed,

when every avenue by which light could penetrate is stopped; when we are

exposed to all the undefined terrors and exaggerated dangers that

accompany utter darkness? The misfortune of France, a national defect

which makes the happiness enjoyed by England unattainable by us, is, that

she is always oscillating between extremes; that she is constantly

swinging from universal conquest to _la paix à tout prix_, from the

desire of nothing but glory to the desire of nothing but wealth, from the

wildest democracy to the most abject servility. Every new Government

starts with a new principle. Every Government in a few years perishes by

carrying that principle to an extreme. The First Republic was destroyed

by the intemperance with which it trampled on every sort of tradition and

authority, the First Empire by its abuse of victory and war, the

Restoration by its exaggerated belief in divine right and legitimacy, the

Royalty of July by its exaggerated reliance on purchased voters and

Parliamentary majorities, the Second Republic by the conduct of its own

Republicans. The danger to the Second Empire--its only internal danger,

but I fear a fatal one--is its abuse of authority. With every phase of

our sixty years' long revolution, we have a new superstition, a new

_culte_. We are now required to become the worshippers of authority. I

lament that with the new religion we have not new priests. Our public men

would not be discredited by instantaneous apostasy from one political

faith to another. I am grieved, gentlemen, if I offend you; though many

of you are older in years than I am, not one probably is so old in public

life. I may be addressing you for the last time, and I feel that my last

words ought to contain all the warnings that I think will be useful to

you. This assembly will soon end, as all its predecessors have ended. Its

acts, its legislation, may perish with it, but its reputation, its fame,

for good or for evil, will survive. Within a few minutes you will do an

act by which that reputation will be seriously affected; by which it may

be raised, by which it may be deeply, perhaps irrevocably, sunk. Your

vote to-night will show whether you possess freedom, and whether you

deserve it. As for myself, I care but little. A few months, or even

years, of imprisonment are among the risks which every public man who

does his duty in revolutionary times must encounter, and which the first

men of the country have incurred, _soit en sortant des affaires, soit

avant d'y entrer_. But whatever may be the effect of your vote on _my_

person, whatever it may be on _your_ reputation, I trust that it is not

in your power to inflict permanent injury on my country. Among you are

some who lived through the Empire. They must remember that the soldiers

of our glorious army cherished as fondly the recollection of its defeats

as of its victories. They must see that the lessons which those defeats

taught, and the feelings which they inspired, are now among the sources

of our military strength. Your Emperor himself, in one of his earlier

addresses, talked hopefully of the period when France would be capable of

more liberty than he now thinks good for her, "Un jour," he exclaimed,

"mon oeuvre sera couronnée par la liberté." I join in that hope. I look

sanguinely towards the time when she will be worthy of the English

constitution, and she will obtain it. Vous tenez le corps de la France,

mais vous ne tenez pas son âme. Cette âme, aujourd'hui effrayée,

engourdie, endormie, cette âme c'est la liberté. Elle se réveillera un

jour et vous échappera. La certitude de ce réveil suffit pour consoler et

fortifier ses vieux et fidèles soldats à traverser la nuit de l'épreuve.

Cette liberté honnête et modérée, sage et sainte, j'y ai toujours cru, et

j'y crois encore. Je l'ai toujours servie, toujours aimée, toujours

invoquée, tantôt pour la religion, tantôt pour le pays; hier contre le

socialisme, aujourd'hui contre un commencement de despotisme; et, quelle

que soit votre décision, je me féliciterai toujours d'avoir eu cette

occasion solennelle de la confesser encore une fois devant vous, et, s'il

le faut, de souffrir un peu pour elle.'

These concluding words were drowned in universal murmurs.

Correspondence & Conversations of Alexis de Tocqueville with Nassau William Senior from 1834 to 1859, Volume 2 · 第 82 / 83 题