PART I.

HISTORICAL CHARACTERS

[Illustration]

[Illustration: TALLEYRAND]

HISTORICAL CHARACTERS

MACKINTOSH TALLEYRAND

CANNING COBBETT

PEEL

BY

SIR HENRY LYTTON BULWER

(LORD DALLING)

London

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED

NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

1900

_All rights reserved_

_First Edition, in 2 vols., demy 8vo, 30s., November 1867.

Second Edition, in 2 vols., demy 8vo, 30s., March 1868. Third

Edition, in one volume, crown 8vo, 6s., December 1869. Fourth

Edition, in which was included, for the first time, the Life of

Sir Robert Peel, in one volume, crown 8vo, 6s., December 1875.

Transferred to Macmillan and Co., Ltd., August 1898. Reprinted

May 1900._

TO LORD LYTTON.

MY DEAR EDWARD,

The idea of this work, which I dedicate to you in testimony of the

affection and friendship which have always united us, was conceived

many years ago. I wished to give some general idea of modern history,

from the period of the French Revolution of 1789 down to our own times,

in a series of personal sketches. In these sketches I was disposed to

select types of particular characters, thinking that in this way it

is easier to paint with force and clearness both an individual and

an epoch. The outlines of Talleyrand, Cobbett, and others, were then

imperfectly traced; and Canning and Mackintosh have been little altered.

The manuscript, however, was laid aside amidst the labours of an active

professional career, and only thought of since complete leisure created

the wish for some employment. It was then that I resumed my task.

I need not say that the portraits I give here are but a few of those

I commenced, but the constant change of residence, rendered necessary

by the state of health in which I left Constantinople, interfered with

the completion of my design, and added to the defects which, under any

circumstances, would have been found in the following pages.

Ever yours affectionately,

H. L. BULWER.

13, RUE ROYALE, PARIS, _Oct 10, 1867_.

PREFACE TO THIS NEW EDITION.

The sale which this work has had in its original form has induced my

publisher to recommend a cheaper and more popular one; and I myself

gladly seize the opportunity of correcting some of the errors in

print and expression which, though gradually diminished in preceding

editions, left even the last edition imperfect. An author with ordinary

modesty must always be conscious of many defects in his own work. I

am so in mine. Still I venture to say that the portraits I have drawn

have, upon the whole, been thought truthful and impartial; and though

I have been often reminded of the difficulty which Sir Walter Raleigh,

when writing the History of the World, experienced in ascertaining the

real particulars of a tumult that took place under his windows--almost

every anecdote one hears on the best authority being certain to find

contradiction in some of its particulars--I have not refrained from

quoting those anecdotes which came to me from good authority or the

general report of the period; since a story which brings into relief

the reputed character of the person it is applied to, and which, to

use the Italian proverb, ought to be true if it is not so, is far from

being indifferent to history.

In conclusion, I cannot but express my thanks, not only to public, but

to private and previously unknown critics, whose remarks have always

received a willing and grateful attention, and to whose suggestions I

am greatly indebted.

_Nov. 6, 1869._

TALLEYRAND, THE POLITIC MAN.

PART I.

FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE REVOLUTION TO THE EXPOSITION OF THE STATE

OF THE NATION.

Different types of men.--M. de Talleyrand, the politic

man.--Character of the eighteenth century, which had formed

him.--Birth, personal description, entry into church.--Causes

of revolution.--States-General.--Talleyrand’s influence over

clergy; over the decision as to the instructions of members,

and the drawing up of the rights of man.--Courage in times

of danger.--Financial knowledge.--Propositions relative to

church property.--Discredit with the Court party.--Popularity

with the Assembly.--Charged to draw up its manifesto to the

nation.--Project about uniformity of weights and measures.

I.

There are many men in all times who employ themselves actively in

public affairs; but very few amongst these deserve the title of “Men of

action.”

The rare individuals who justly claim this designation, and whose

existence exercises so important an influence over the age in which

they appear, must possess, in no ordinary degree, intelligence, energy,

and judgment; but these qualities are found blended in different

degrees in the different classes or types of men who, as soldiers,

sovereigns, or statesmen, command the destiny of their times.

They in whom superior intelligence, energy, and judgment are equally

united, mount with firm and rapid pace the loftiest steeps of ambition,

and establish themselves permanently on the heights to which they

have safely ascended. Such men usually pursue some fixed plan or

predominant idea with stern caution and indomitable perseverance,

adapting their means to their end, but always keeping their end clearly

in view, and never, in the pursuit of it, overstepping that line by

which difficulties are separated from impossibilities. Cardinal de

Richelieu in France, and William III. in England, are types of this

heroic race.

On the other hand, they in whom the judgment, however great, is

not sufficient to curb the energy and govern the intellect which

over-stimulates their nature, blaze out, meteor-like, in history, but

rather excite temporary admiration than leave behind them permanent

results. Their exploits far surpass those of other men, and assume

for a moment an almost supernatural appearance: but, as their rise is

usually sudden and prodigious, their ruin is also frequently abrupt

and total. Carried on by a force over which they gradually lose all

control, from one act of audacity to another more daring, their genius

sails before the wind, like a vessel with overcrowded canvas, and

perishes at last in some violent and sudden squall. Charles XII. of

Sweden was an example of this kind in the last century, and Napoleon

Bonaparte, if we regard him merely as a conqueror, a more striking one

in our own days.

Thirdly, there are men whose energy though constant is never violent,

and whose intellect, rather subtle than bold, is attracted by the

useful, and careless of the sublime. Shrewd and wary, these men rather

take advantage of circumstances than make them. To turn an obstacle, to

foresee an event, to seize an opportunity, is their peculiar talent.

They are without passions, but self-interest and sagacity combined give

them a force like that of passion. The success they obtain is procured

by efforts no greater than those of other candidates for public

honours, who with an appearance of equal talent vainly struggle after

fortune; but all their exertions are made at the most fitting moment,

and in the happiest manner.

A nice tact and a far-sighted judgment are the predominant qualities of

these “_politic_” persons. They think rarely of what is right in the

abstract: they do usually what is best at the moment. They never play

the greatest part amongst their contemporaries: they almost always play

a great one; and, without arriving at those extraordinary positions to

which a more adventurous race aspires, generally retain considerable

importance, even during the most changeful circumstances, and most

commonly preserve in retirement or disgrace much of the consideration

they acquired in power. During the intriguing and agitated years

which preceded the fall of the Stuarts, there was seen in England a

remarkable statesman of the character I have just been describing; and

a comparison might not inappropriately be drawn between the plausible

and trimming Halifax and the adroit and accomplished personage whose

name is inscribed on these pages.

But although these two renowned advocates of expediency had many

qualities in common--the temper, the wit, the knowledge, the

acuteness which distinguished the one equally distinguishing the

other--nevertheless the Englishman, although a more dexterous debater

in public assemblies, had not in action the calm courage, nor in

council the prompt decision, for which the Frenchman was remarkable;

neither is his name stamped on the annals of his country in such

indelible characters, nor connected with such great and marvellous

events.

And yet, notwithstanding the vastness of the stage on which M. de

Talleyrand acted, and the importance of the parts which for more than

half a century he played, I venture to doubt whether his character

has ever been fairly given, or is at this moment justly appreciated;

nor is this altogether surprising. In a life so long, brilliant, and

varied, we must expect to find a diversity of impressions succeeding

and effacing each other; and not a few who admired the captivating

companion, and reverenced the skilful minister of foreign affairs,

were ignorant that the celebrated wit and sagacious diplomatist had

exhibited an exquisite taste in letters, and a profound knowledge in

legislation and finance. Moreover, though it may appear singular, it

will be found true, that it is precisely those public men who are the

most tolerant to adverse opinions, and the least prone to personal

enmities, who oftentimes gather round their own reputation, at least

during a time, the darkest obloquy and the most terrible reproaches.

The reason for this is simple: such men are themselves neither subject

to any predominant affection, nor devoted to any favourite theory.

Calm and impartial, they are lenient and forgiving. On the other hand,

men who love things passionately, or venerate things deeply, despise

those who forsake--and detest those who oppose--the objects of their

adoration or respect. Thus, the royalist, ready to lay down his life

for his legitimate sovereign; the republican, bent upon glorious

imitations of old Rome and Greece; the soldier, devoted to the chief

who had led him from victory to victory, could not but speak with

bitterness and indignation of one who commenced the Revolution against

Louis XVI., aided in the overthrow of the French Republic, and dictated

the proscription of the great captain whose armies had marched for a

while triumphant over Europe.

The most ardent and violent of the men of M. de Talleyrand’s time were

consequently the most ardent and violent condemners of his conduct; and

he who turns over the various works in which that conduct is spoken

of by insignificant critics,[1] will be tempted to coincide with the

remark of the great wit of the eighteenth century: “_C’est un terrible

avantage de n’avoir rien fait; mais il ne faut pas en abuser._”[2]

How far such writers were justified will be seen more or less in

the following pages, which are written with no intention to paint a

character deserving of eulogy or inviting to imitation, but simply with

the view of illustrating a remarkable class of men by a very remarkable

man, who happened to live at a period which will never cease to occupy

and interest posterity.

II.

Charles Maurice Talleyrand de Périgord was born February 2, 1754.[3]

The House of Périgord was one of the noblest in France, and in the

earliest ages of the French monarchy possessed sovereign power. The

principality of Chalais, the only one which existed, I believe, in the

time of Louis XIV. (for the other personages called princes at the

French court took their titles as princes of the Roman States or the

German Empire, and ranked after French dukes), is said to have been

eight centuries in this family. Talleyrand, a name usually attached

to that of Périgord, and anciently written _Tailleran_, is supposed

to have been a sort of _sobriquet_, or nickname, and derived from the

words, “_tailler les rangs_” (cut through the ranks). It was borne

by Helie V., one of the sovereign counts of Périgord, who lived in

1118; and from this prince (Helie V.) descended two branches of the

Talleyrand-Périgords; the one was extinct before the time of Louis

XVI., the other, being the younger branch, was then represented by a

Comte de Périgord, Captain of the Guards, and Governor of the States

of Languedoc. A brother of this Comte de Périgord was the father of

Charles Maurice Talleyrand de Périgord (the subject of this memoir),

whose mother, Eléonore de Damas, daughter of the Marquis de Damas, was

also of a highly noble family, and a lady alike remarkable for her

beauty and her virtue.[4]

III.

The seal which marks our destiny has usually been stamped on our

childhood; and most men, as they look back to their early youth, can

remember the accident, the book, the conversation, which gave that

shape to their character which events have subsequently developed.

M. de Talleyrand was in infancy an exile from his home; the fortune

of his parents did not correspond with their rank: his father,[5]

a soldier, was always at the court or the camp; his mother held a

situation in the household at Versailles. To both a child was an

incumbrance, and Maurice immediately at his birth was put out to nurse

(as was indeed at that time frequently the custom) in the country,

where, either by chance or neglect, he met with a fall which occasioned

lameness. This infirmity, when the almost forgotten child at the age of

twelve or thirteen was brought up to Paris for the purpose of receiving

rather a tardy education, had become incurable; and by a _conseil

de famille_, it was decided that the younger brother, the Comte

d’Archambaud--subsequently known as one of the handsomest and most

elegant of the courtiers of Louis XVI., and whom I can remember under

the title of Duc de Périgord--(a title given by Louis XVIII.), should

be considered the elder brother, and enter the army, whilst the elder

son should be pronounced the younger son, and devoted to the clerical

profession, into which the Périgords knew they had sufficient influence

to procure his admission, notwithstanding the infirmity which, under

ordinary circumstances, would have been a reason for excluding him from

the service of the church. From this moment the boy--hitherto lively,

idle, and reckless--became taciturn, studious, and calculating. His

early propensities remained, for nature admits of no radical change;

but they were coloured by disappointment, or combated by ambition.

We see traces of gaiety in the companion who, though rarely smiling

himself, could always elicit a laugh from others; we see traces of

indolence in the statesman who, though always occupied, never did more

than the necessity of the case exacted; we see traces of recklessness

in the gambler and politician who, after a shrewd glance at the

chances, was often disposed to risk his fortune, or his career, on a

speculation for money or power: but the mind had been darkened and

the heart hardened; and the youth who might easily and carelessly

have accepted a prosperous fate, was ushered into the world with a

determination to wrestle with an adverse one.

Nor did any paternal advice or maternal care regulate or soften the

dispositions which were thus being formed. From the nurse in the

country, the lame young Périgord--for Périgord was the name which at

this time he bore--was transplanted to the “Collége d’Harcourt,” since

called that of St. Louis. He entered it more ignorant, perhaps, than

any boy of his years; but he soon gained its first prizes, and became

one of its most distinguished scholars.

At the “Séminaire de St. Sulpice,” to which he was removed in 1770,

his talent for disputation attracted attention, and even some of his

compositions were long remembered and quoted by contemporaries. Whilst

at the Sorbonne, where he subsequently completed his studies, this

scion of one of the most illustrious French houses was often pointed

out as a remarkably clever, silent, and profligate young man: who made

no secret of his dislike to the profession that had been chosen for

him, but was certain to arrive at its highest honours.

With such prospects and such dispositions, M. de Talleyrand entered, in

1773, the Gallican Church.

IV.

At this time we have to fancy the young ecclesiastic--a gentleman about

twenty years of age, very smart in his clerical attire, and with a

countenance which, without being handsome, was singularly attractive

from the triple expression of softness, impudence, and wit. If we

are to credit the chronicles of that day, his first advance in his

profession was owing to one of those _bon mots_ by which so many of the

subsequent steps of his varied career were distinguished.

There were assembled at Madame Dubarry’s a number of young gentlemen,

rather free in their conversation and prodigal in their boasts: no

beauty had been veiled to their desires, no virtue had been able to

resist their attacks. The subject of this memoir alone said nothing.

“And what makes you so sad and silent?” asked the hostess. “_Hélas!

madame, je faisais une réflexion bien triste._” “_Et laquelle?_” “_Ah,

madame, que Paris est une ville dans laquelle il est bien plus aisé

d’avoir des femmes que des abbayes._”

The saying, so goes the story, was considered charming, and being

reported to Louis XV., was rewarded by that monarch with the benefice

desired. The Abbé de Périgord’s career, thus commenced, did not long

linger. Within a few years after entering the church, aided by his

birth and abilities, he obtained (in 1780) the distinguished position

of “Agent-General” of the French clergy--this title designating an

important personage who administered the ecclesiastical revenues, which

were then immense, under the control of regular assemblies.

It is a curious trait in the manners of these times that, whilst

holding this high post as a priest, the Abbé de Périgord fitted out

a vessel as a privateer; and, it being his intention to plunder the

English, received from the French government the cannon he required for

so pious a purpose.[6]

I am unable to say what success attended M. de Talleyrand’s naval

enterprise; but when, in 1785, he had to give an account of his

clerical administration, the very clear and statesmanlike manner in

which he did so, raised him, in the opinion of the public, from the

position of a clever man, into that of an able one. Nor was this all.

The peculiar nature of the first public duties which he thus exercised,

directed his mind towards those questions which the increasing deficit

in the French treasury, and the acknowledged necessity of supplying

it, made the fashion: for every one at that time in Paris--ladies,

philosophers, wits, and men of fashion--talked finance. Few, however,

troubled themselves with acquiring any real insight into so dry a

subject. But M. de Talleyrand, although constitutionally averse to

hard or continued study, supplied this defect by always seeking and

living with men who were the best informed on those subjects with which

he wished to become acquainted. In this manner his own information

became essentially practical, and the knowledge he obtained of details

(furnishing him with a variety of facts, which he always knew how to

quote opportunely), attracted the attention and patronage of M. de

Calonne, then at the head of the French government, and who, being

himself as much addicted to pleasure as to affairs, was not sorry to

sanction the doctrine that a man of the world might also be a man of

business.

Still, though thus early marked out as a person who, after the example

of his great ecclesiastical predecessors, might rise to the highest

dignities in the Church and State, the Abbé de Périgord showed an

almost ostentatious disregard for the duties and decorum of the

profession which he had been forced to embrace. Indeed, he seemed to

make in this sort of conduct a kind of protest against the decree by

which his birthright had been set aside, and almost to glory in the

publication of profane epigrams and amorous adventures which amused

the world but scandalised the Church. Thus, each year, which increased

his reputation for ability, added to the stories by which public

rumour exaggerated his immorality; and in 1788, when the bishopric

of Autun, to which he had for some time been looking forward, became

vacant, Louis XVI. was unwilling to confer the dignity of prelate on

so irregular an ecclesiastic. For four months the appointment was not

filled up. But the Abbé de Périgord’s father lay at that time on his

death-bed: he was visited by the kind-hearted Louis in this condition,

and he begged the monarch, as the last request of a dying and faithful

servant, to grant the bishopric in question to his son. The King could

not withstand such a prayer at such a moment, and the Abbé de Périgord

was consecrated Bishop of Autun on the 17th of January, 1789--four

months before the assembling of the States-General.

V.

The period which had elapsed between the time at which M. de Talleyrand

had entered the Church, and that at which he attained the episcopal

dignity, is, perhaps, the most interesting in modern civilization. At

no epoch did society ever present so bright and polished a surface

as it did in the French capital during these fourteen or fifteen

years. The still great fortunes of the _grand seigneur_, the profuse

expenditure of the financier, the splendour of a court embellished

by that love for the arts and for letters which the Medici had

imported from Italy, and which Louis XIV. had made a part of his royal

magnificence, all contributed to surround life with a taste in luxury

which has never been surpassed. Rich manufactures of silk, exquisite

chiseling in bronze, china equally beautiful in form and decoration,

and paintings somewhat effeminate, but graceful, and which still give

celebrity to the names of Watteau, Boucher, and Greuze, mark the

elegant refinement that presided over those days.

Nothing, however, in those courtly times had been carried to such

perfection as the art of living, and the habits of social intercourse.

People did not then shut up their houses from their friends if they

were poor, nor merely open them in order to give gorgeous and pompous

entertainments if they were rich. Persons who suited and sympathised,

assembled in small circles, which permitted the access of new members

cautiously, but received all who had once been admitted without

preference or distinction.

In these circles, the courtier, though confident of the fixed

superiority of his birth, paid homage to the accident of genius in the

man of letters; and the literary man, however proud of his works, or

conscious of his talents, rendered the customary tribute of respect to

high rank and station.

Thus poets and princes, ministers of state, and members of learned

academies--men of wit, and men of the world--met on a footing of

apparent equality, and real familiarity, on a stage where Beauty,

ambitious of universal admiration, cultivated her mind as much as her

person, and established one presiding theory--“that all had to make

themselves agreeable.”

The evening parties of Madame de Brignole, and of Madame du Deffand,

the little suppers of Madame Geoffrin, the dinners of Baron Holbach

and Helvetius, the musical receptions of the Abbé Morelet, and the

breakfasts of Madame Necker, were only specimens of the sort of

assemblies which existed amongst different classes, and throughout

every street and corner of Paris and Versailles.

Here, all orders mingled with suitable deference towards each other.

But beneath this brilliant show of actual gaiety and apparent unity

there lay brooding a spirit of dissatisfaction and expectation,

which a variety of peculiar circumstances tended, at that time, to

exaggerate in France, but which is in fact the usual characteristic of

every intellectual community, when neither over-enervated by luxury

and peace, nor over-wearied by war and civil commotion. Its natural

consequence was a desire for change, which diffused its influence over

all things--great and small. Léonard revolutionized the head-dress of

the French lady: Diderot and Beaumarchais, the principles of the French

stage: Turgot and Necker, the political economy and financial system of

the French state: and just at this moment, when the imagination was on

the stretch for novelty, as if Providence designed for some mysterious

end to encourage the aspiring genius of the epoch, the balloon of

Montgolfier took its flight from the Tuileries, and the most romantic

dreams were surpassed by a reality.

It was not, however, a mere discontent with the present, a mere hope

in the future, a mere passion after things new, however violent that

passion might be, which constituted the peril, nor, indeed, the

peculiarity of the hour.

In other seasons of this kind, the wishes and views of men have

frequently taken some fixed form--have had some fixed tendency--and in

this way their progress has been regulated, and their result, even from

a distance, foreseen.

But at the period to which I am referring, there was no general

conception or aim which cast a decisive shadow over coming events, and

promised any specific future in exchange for the present, evidently

passing away.

There still lived, though on the verge of the tomb, an individual to

whom this distinguishing misfortune of the eighteenth century was in no

small degree attributable. The keen sagacity of Voltaire, his piercing

raillery, his brilliant and epigrammatic eloquence, had ridiculed and

destroyed all faith in old abuses, but had never attempted to give

even a sketch of what was to come in their room. “_Magis habuit quod

fugeret quam quod sequeretur._” The effect of his genius, therefore,

had been to create around him a sort of luminous mist, produced by

the blending of curiosity and doubt; an atmosphere favourable to

scepticism, favourable to credulity; and, above all things, generative

of enthusiasts and empirics. St. Germain the alchymist, Cagliostro

the conjurer, Condorcet the publicist, Marat the politician, were the

successive produce of this marvellous and singular epoch. And thus

it was,--amidst a general possession of privileges, and a general

equality of customs and ideas--amidst a great generosity of sentiment,

and an almost entire absence of principle in a society unequalled in

its charms, unbounded in its hopes, and altogether ignorant of its

destiny,--that the flower of M. de Talleyrand’s manhood was passed.

VI.

I have dwelt at some length upon the characteristics--

“Of those gay times of elegance and ease,

When Pleasure learnt so gracefully to please:

When wits and courtiers held the same resorts,

The courtiers wits, and all wits fit for courts:

When woman, perfect in her siren art,

Subdued the mind, and trifled with the heart;

When Wisdom’s lights in fanes fantastic shone,

And Taste had principles, and Virtue none:

When schools disdained the morals understood,

And sceptics boasted of some better good:

When all was Fairyland which met the view,

No truth untheorized, and no theory true.”

I have dwelt, I say, at some length upon the characteristics of those

times; because it is never to be forgotten that the personage I have to

speak of was their child. To the latest hour of his existence he fondly

cherished their memory; to them he owed many of those graces which his

friends still delight to recall: to them, most of those faults which

his enemies have so frequently portrayed.

The great test of his understanding was that he totally escaped all

their grosser delusions. Of this I am able to give a striking proof.

It has been said that M. de Talleyrand was raised to the episcopal

dignity in January, 1789, four months previous to the assembling of the

States-General. To that great Assembly he was immediately named by the

_baillage_ of his own diocese; and perhaps there is hardly to be found

on record a more remarkable example of human sagacity and foresight

than in the new bishop’s address to the body which had chosen him its

representative.

In this address, which I have now before me, he separates all the

reforms which were practicable and expedient, from all the schemes

which were visionary and dangerous--the one and the other being at

that time confused and jumbled together in the half-frenzied brains

of his countrymen: he omits none of those advantages in government,

legislation, finance--for he embraces all these--which fifty years have

gradually given to France: he mentions none of those projects of which

time, experience, and reason have shown the absurdity and futility.

A charter giving to all equal rights: a great code embodying and

simplifying all existing and necessary laws: a due provision for prompt

justice: the abolition of arbitrary arrest: the mitigation of the laws

between debtor and creditor: the institution of trial by jury: the

liberty of the press, and the inviolability of private correspondence:

the destruction of those interior imposts which cut up France into

provinces, and of those restrictions by which all but members of

guilds were excluded from particular trades: the introduction of order

into the finances under a well-regulated system of public accounts:

the suppression of all feudal privileges: and the organization of a

well-considered general plan of taxation: such were the changes which

the Bishop of Autun suggested in the year 1789. He said nothing of

the perfectibility of the human race: of a total reorganization of

society under a new system of capital and labour: he did not promise

an eternal peace, nor preach a general fraternity amongst all races

and creeds. The ameliorations he proposed were plain and simple;

they affiliated with ideas already received, and could be grafted on

the roots of a society already existing. They have stood the test of

eighty years--now advanced by fortunate events, now retarded by adverse

ones--some of them have been disdained by demagogues, others denounced

by despots;--they have passed through the ordeal of successive

revolutions; and they furnish at this instant the foundations on which

all wise and enlightened Frenchmen desire to establish the condition

of government and society in their great and noble country. Let us do

honour to an intelligence that could trace these limits for a rising

generation; to a discretion that resisted the temptation to stray

beyond them!

VII.

About the time of the assembling of the States-General, there appeared

a work which it is now curious to refer to--it was by the pen of

Laclos--entitled _Galerie des États-Généraux_. This work gave a sketch

under assumed names of the principal personages likely to figure in

the States-General. Amongst a variety of portraits, are to be found

those of General Lafayette and the Bishop of Autun; the first under

the name of Philarète, the second under that of Amène; and, assuredly,

the author startles us by his nice perception of the character and by

his prophetic sagacity as to the career of these two men. It is well,

however, to remember that Laclos frequented the Palais Royal, which the

moral and punctilious soldier of Washington scrupulously avoided. The

criticism I give, therefore, is not an impartial one. For, if General

Lafayette was neither a hero nor a statesman, he was, take him all in

all, one of the most eminent personages of his time, and occupied,

at two or three periods, one of the most prominent positions in his

country.

“Philarète,” says M. Laclos, “having found it easy to become a hero,

fancies it will be as easy to become a statesman. The misfortune of

Philarète is that he has great pretensions and ordinary conceptions.

He has persuaded himself that he was the author of the revolution in

America; he is arranging himself so as to become one of the principal

actors in a revolution in France.

“He mistakes notoriety for glory, an event for a success, a sword for

a monument, a compliment for immortality. He does not like the court,

because he is not at his ease in it; nor the world, because there he is

confounded with the many; nor women, because they injure the reputation

of a man, while they do not add to his position. But he is fond of

clubs, because he there picks up the ideas of others; of strangers,

because they only examine a foreigner superficially; of mediocrity,

because it listens and admires.

“Philarète will be faithful to whatever party he adopts, without being

able to assign, even to himself, any good reasons for being so. He

has no very accurate ideas of constitutional authority, but the word

‘liberty’ has a charm for him, because it rouses an ambition which he

scarcely knows what to do with. Such is Philarète. He merits attention,

because, after all, he is better than most of his rivals. That the

world has been more favourable to him than he deserves, is owing to the

fact that he has done a great deal in it, considering the poverty of

his ability; and people have been grateful to him, rather on account of

what he seemed desirous to be, than on account of what he was. Besides,

his exterior is modest, and only a few know that the heart of the man

is not mirrored on the surface.

“He will never be much more than we see him, for he has little genius,

little nerve, little voice, little art, and is greedy of small

successes.”

Such was the portrait which was drawn of Lafayette; we now come to that

of M. de Talleyrand.

“Amène has charming manners, which embellish virtue. His first title

to success is a sound understanding. Judging men with indulgence,

events with calmness, he has in all things that moderation which is the

characteristic of true philosophy.

“There is a degree of perfection which the intelligence can comprehend

rather than realise, and which there is, undoubtedly, a certain degree

of greatness in endeavouring to attain; but such brilliant efforts,

though they give momentary fame to those who make them, are never

of any real utility. Common sense disdains glitter and noise, and,

measuring the bounds of human capacity, has not the wild hope of

extending them beyond what experience has proved their just limit.

“Amène has no idea of making a great reputation in a day: such

reputations, made too quickly, soon begin to decline, and are followed

by envy, disappointment, and sorrow. But Amène will _arrive at

everything_, because he will always profit by those occasions which

present themselves to such as do not attempt to ravish Fortune. Each

step will be marked by the development of some talent, and thus he will

at last acquire that general high opinion which summons a statesman to

every great post that is vacant. Envy, which will always deny something

to a person generally praised, will reply to what we have said, that

Amène has not that force and energy of character which is necessary to

break through the obstacles that impede the course of a public man. It

is true he will _yield to circumstances_, to reason, and will deem that

he can make _sacrifices to peace without descending from principle_;

but firmness and constancy may exist without violent ardour, or vapid

enthusiasm.

“Amène has against him his pleasing countenance and seductive manner.

I know people whom these advantages displease, and who are also

prejudiced against a man who happens to unite the useful chance of

birth with the essential qualities of the mind.

“But what are we really to expect from Amène in the States-General?

Nothing, if he is inspired with the spirit of class; much, if he acts

after his own conceptions, and remembers that a national assembly only

contains citizens.”

VIII.

Few who read the above sketch will deny to the author of the “_Liaisons

Dangereuses_” the merit of discernment. Indeed, to describe M. de

Talleyrand at this time seems to have been more appropriate to the

pen of the novelist than to that of the historian. Let us picture to

ourselves a man of about thirty-five, and appearing somewhat older:

his countenance of a long oval; his eyes blue, with an expression at

once deep and variable; his lips usually impressed with a smile, which

was that of mockery, but not of ill-nature; his nose slightly turned

up, but delicate, and remarkable for a constant play in the clearly

chiseled nostrils. “He dressed,” says one of his many biographers,

“like a coxcomb, he thought like a deist, he preached like a saint.” At

once active and irregular, he found time for everything: the church,

the court, the opera. In bed one day from indolence or debauch, up the

whole of the following night to prepare a memoir or a speech. Gentle

with the humble, haughty with the high; not very exact in paying his

debts, but very scrupulous with respect to giving and breaking promises

to pay them.

A droll story is related with respect to this last peculiarity. The

new Bishop had ordered and received a very handsome carriage, becoming

his recent ecclesiastical elevation. He had not, however, settled the

coachmaker’s “small account.” After long waiting and frequent letters,

the civil but impatient tradesman determined upon presenting himself

every day at the Bishop of Autun’s door, at the same time as his

equipage.

For several days, M. de Talleyrand saw, without recognising, a

well-dressed individual, with his hat in his hand, and bowing very low

as he mounted the steps of his coach. “_Et qui êtes vous, mon ami?_”

he said at last. “_Je suis votre carrossier, Monseigneur._” “_Ah!

vous êtes mon carrossier; et que voulez-vous, mon carrossier?_” “_Je

veux être payé, Monseigneur_,” said the coachmaker, humbly. “_Ah!

vous êtes mon carrossier, et vous voulez être payé; vous serez payé,

mon carrossier._” “_Et quand, Monseigneur?_”[7] “Hum!” murmured the

Bishop, looking at his coachmaker very attentively, and at the same

time settling himself in his new carriage: “_Vous êtes bien curieux!_”

Such was the Talleyrand of 1789, embodying in himself the ability and

the frivolity, the ideas and the habits of a large portion of his

class. At once the associate of the Abbé Sieyès, and of Mademoiselle

Guimard: a profligate fine gentleman, a deep and wary thinker; and,

above all things, the delight and ornament of that gay and graceful

society, which, crowned with flowers, was about to be the first victim

to its own philosophy. As yet, however, the sky, though troubled,

gave no evidence of storm; and never, perhaps, did a great assembly

meet with less gloomy anticipations than that which in the pomp and

gallantry of feudal show, swept, on the 1st of May, through the royal

city of Versailles.

Still, there was even at that moment visible the sign and symbol of the

approaching crisis; for dark behind the waving plumes and violet robes

of the great dignitaries of Church and State, moved on the black mass,

in sable cloak and garb, of the Commons, or tiers-état, the body which

had, _as yet, been nothing_, but which had just been told by one of its

most illustrious members,[8] that it _ought to be everything_.

The history of the mighty revolution which at this moment was

commencing, is still so stirring amongst us,--the breath of the tempest

which then struck down tower and temple, is still so frequently fancied

to be rustling about our own dwellings,--that when the mind even now

wanders back, around and about this time, it is always with a certain

interest and curiosity, and we pause once again to muse, even though we

have often before meditated, upon that memorable event which opened a

new chapter in the history of the world. And the more we reflect, the

more does it seem surprising that in so civilised an age, and under so

well-meaning a sovereign, an august throne and a great society should

have been wholly swept away; nor does it appear less astonishing that

a monarch with arbitrary sway, that a magistracy with extraordinary

privileges, each wishing to retain their authority, should have

voluntarily invoked another power, long slumbering in an almost

forgotten constitution, and which, when roused into activity, was so

immediately omnipotent over parliament and king.

IX.

The outline of Louis XVI.’s reign is easily, though I do not remember

where it is briefly, and clearly traced. At its commencement, the

influence of new opinions was confined to the library and drawing-room.

The modern notions of constitutional liberty and political economy

prevalent amongst men of letters, and fashionable amongst men of the

world, had not been professed by men in power, and were consequently

disdained by that large class which wishes in all countries to pass for

the practical portion of the community. At this time, an old minister,

himself a courtier, and jealous lest other courtiers should acquire

that influence over his master which he possessed, introduced into

affairs a set of persons hitherto unknown at court, the most eminent

of whom were Turgot, Malesherbes, and Necker; and no sooner had these

three eminent reformers obtained a serious political position, than

their views acquired a political consideration which had not before

belonged to them, and the idea that some great and general reform was

shortly to take place entered seriously into the public mind. Each of

these ministers would have wished to make the reforms that were most

necessary with the aid of the royal authority; and, had they been able

to do so, it is probable that they would have preserved the heart

and strength of the old monarchy, which was yet only superficially

decayed. But the moderate changes which they desired to introduce

with the assent of all parties, were opposed by all parties, in spite

of--or, perhaps, on account of--their very moderation: for losers are

rarely satisfied because their losses are small, and winners are never

contented but when their gains are great.

In the meantime, Maurepas, who would have supported the policy of his

colleagues, if it had brought him popularity, was by no means disposed

to do so when it gave him trouble. Thus, Malesherbes, Turgot, and

Necker were successively forced to resign their offices, without having

done anything to establish their own policy, but much to render any

other discreditable and difficult.

The publication of the famous “_Compte Rendu_,” or balance-sheet of

state expenses and receipts, more especially, rendered it impossible to

continue to govern as heretofore. And now Maurepas died, and a youthful

queen inherited the influence of an old favourite. M. de Calonne, a

plausible, clever, but superficial gentleman, was the first minister of

any importance chosen by the influence of Marie-Antoinette’s friends.

He saw that the expenses and receipts of the government must bear

some proportion to each other. He trembled at suddenly reducing old

charges; new taxes were the only alternative; and yet it was almost

impossible to get such taxes from the lower and middle classes, if the

clergy and nobility, who conjointly possessed about two-thirds of the

soil, were exempted from all contributions to the public wants. The

minister, nevertheless, shrunk from despoiling the privileged classes

of their immunities, without some authorization from themselves. He

called together, therefore, the considerable personages, or “notables,”

as they were styled, of the realm, and solicited their sanction to new

measures and new imposts, some of the former of which would limit their

authority, and some of the latter affect their purses.

The “notables” were divided into two factions: the one of which was

opposed to M. de Calonne, the other to the changes which he wished

to introduce. These two parties united and became irresistible.

Amongst their ranks was a personage of great ambition and small

capacity--Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse. This man was the most

violent of M. de Calonne’s opponents. The court turned round suddenly

and chose him as M. de Calonne’s successor. This measure, at first,

was successful, for conflicting opinions end by creating personal

antipathies, and the “notables,” in a moment of exultation over the

defeated minister, granted everything with facility to the minister

who had supplanted him. A new embarrassment, however, now arose.

The notables were, after all, only an advising body: they could

say what they deemed right to be done, but they could not do it.

This was the business of the sovereign; but his edicts, in order

to acquire regularly the force of law, had to be registered by the

Parliament of Paris; and it is easy to understand how such a power

of registration became, under particular circumstances, the power of

refusal. The influence of that great magisterial corporation, called

the “Parliament of Paris,” had, indeed, acquired, since it had been

found necessary to set aside Louis XIV.’s will by the sanction of

its authority, a more clear and positive character than at former

periods. This judicial court, or legislative assembly, had thus become

a constituent part of the State, and had also become--as all political

assemblies, however composed, which have not others for their rivals,

will become--the representative of popular opinion. It had seen, with

a certain degree of jealousy, the convocation, however temporarily, of

another chamber (for such the assembly of notables might be called),

and was, moreover, as belonging to the aristocracy, not very well

disposed to the surrender of aristocratical privileges. It refused,

therefore, to register the new taxes proposed to it: thus thwarting

the consent of the notables, avoiding, for a time, the imposts with

which its own class was threatened, and acquiring, nevertheless, some

increase of popularity with the people who are usually disposed to

resist all taxation, and were pleased with the invectives against the

extravagance of the court, with which the resistance of the parliament

was accompanied.

The government cajoled and threatened the parliament, recalled it,

again quarrelled with it, attempted to suppress it--and failed.

Disturbances broke out, famine appeared at hand, a bankruptcy was

imminent; there was no constituted authority with sufficient power

or sufficient confidence in itself to act decisively. People looked

out for some new authority: they found it in an antique form. “The

States-General!” (that is, an assembly chosen from the different

classes, which, in critical periods of the French nation had been

heretofore summoned) became the unanimous cry. The court, which

wanted money and could not get it, expected to find more sympathy in

a body drawn from all the orders of the State than from a special and

privileged body which represented but one order.

The parliament, on the other hand, imagined that, having acquired the

reputation of defending the nation’s rights, it would have its powers

maintained and extended by any collection of men representing the

nation. This is why both parliament and court came by common accord to

one conclusion.

The great bulk of the nobility, though divided in their previous

discussions, here, also, at last agreed: one portion because it

participated in the views of the court, and the other because it

participated in those of the parliament.

In the meantime, the unfortunate Archbishop, who had tried every plan

for filling the coffers of the court without the aid of the great

council now called together, was dismissed as soon as that council was

definitively summoned: and, according to the almost invariable policy

of restoring to power the statesman who has increased his popularity by

losing office, M. Necker was again placed at the head of the finances

and presented to the public as the most influential organ of the crown.

X.

It will be apparent, from what I have said, that the court expected to

find in the States-General an ally against the parliament, whilst the

parliament expected to find in the States-General an ally against the

court. Both were deceived.

The nobility, or notables, the government, and the parliament, had

all hitherto been impotent, because they had all felt that there was

another power around them and about them, by which their actions were

controlled, but with which, as it had no visible representation, they

had no means of dealing.

That power was “public opinion.” In the Commons of France, in the

Deputies from the most numerous, thoughtful, and stirring classes of

the community, a spirit--hitherto impalpable and invisible--found at

once a corporate existence.

Monsieur d’Espremenil, and those parliamentary patricians who a year

before were in almost open rebellion against the sovereign, at last

saw that they had a more potent enemy to cope with, and rallied

suddenly round the throne. Its royal possessor stood at that moment

in a position which no doubt was perilous, but which, nevertheless, I

believe, a moderate degree of sagacity and firmness might have made

secure. The majority of the aristocracy of all grades, from a feudal

sentiment of honour, was with the King. The middle classes also had

still for the monarch and his rank considerable respect; and were

desirous to find out and sanction some just and reasonable compromise

between the institutions that were disappearing, and the ideas that

had come into vogue. It was necessary to calm the apprehensions of

those who had anything to lose, to fix the views of those who thought

they had something to gain, and to come at once to a settlement with

the various classes--here agitated by fear, there by expectation. But

however evident the necessity of this policy, it was not adopted.

Suspicions that should have been dissipated were excited; notions that

should have been rendered definite were further disturbed; all efforts

at arrangement were postponed; and thus the revolution rushed onwards,

its tide swelling, and its rapidity being increased by the blunders

of those who had the greatest interest and desire to arrest it. The

fortune of M. de Talleyrand was embarked upon that great stream, of

which few could trace the source, and none foresaw the direction.

XI.

I have just said that none foresaw the direction in which the great

events now commencing were likely to run. That direction was mainly to

be influenced by the conduct and character of the sovereign, but it

was also, in some degree, to be affected by the conduct and character

of the statesman to whom the destinies of France were for the moment

confided.

M. Necker belonged to a class of men not uncommon in our own time.

His abilities, though good, were not of the first order; his mind

had been directed to one particular branch of business; and, as is

common with persons who have no great genius and one specialty, he

took the whole of government to be that part which he best understood.

Accordingly, what he now looked to, and that exclusively, was balancing

the receipts and expenditure of the State. To do this, it was necessary

to tax the nobility and clergy; and the class through whose aid he

could best hope to achieve such a task was the middle-class, or

“tiers-état.” For this reason, when it had been decided to convoke

the States-General, and it became necessary to fix the proportionate

numbers by which each of the three orders (viz. the nobility, clergy,

middle-class, or “tiers-état,”) which composed the States-General,

was to be represented, M. Necker determined that the sole order of

the “tiers-état” should have as many representatives as the two other

orders conjointly; thinking in this way to give the middle-class a

greater authority, and to counterbalance the want of rank in its

individual members, by their aggregate superiority in numbers.

But when M. Necker went thus far he should have gone farther, and

defined in what manner the three orders should vote, and what power

they should separately exercise. This precaution, however, he did not

take; and therefore, as soon as the States-General assembled, there

instantly arose the question as to whether the three orders were to

prove the validity of their elections together as members of one

assembly, or separately as members of three distinct assemblies. This

question, in point of fact, determined whether the three orders were

to sit and vote together, or whether each order was to sit and vote

apart; and after M. Necker’s first regulation it was clear that, in one

case, the order of the Commons would predominate over all opposition;

and that, in the other, it would be subordinate to the two rival

orders. A struggle then naturally commenced.

XII.

The members of the “tiers-état,” who, as the largest of the three

bodies forming the States-General, had been left in possession of the

chamber where all the orders had been first collected to meet the

sovereign--an accident much in their favour--invited the members of

the two other orders to join them there. The clergy hesitated; the

nobles refused. Days and weeks passed away, and the minister, seeing

his original error, would willingly have remedied it by now proposing

that which he might originally have fixed, namely, that the three

orders should vote together on questions of finance, and separately

on all other questions. This idea was brought forward late; but, even

thus late, it might have prevailed if the court had been earnest in

its favour. The King, however, and those who immediately influenced

him, had begun to think that a deficit was less troublesome than the

means adopted to get rid of it; and fancying that the States-General,

if left to themselves, might ere long dissolve amidst the dissensions

which were discrediting them, were desirous that these dissensions

should continue. Nor would this policy have failed in its object if

negotiation had been much further prolonged.

But it is at great moments like these that a great man suddenly steps

forth, and whilst the crowd is discussing what is best to be done,

does it. Such a man was the Comte de Mirabeau; and on the 15th of

June, this marvellous personage, whose audacity was often prudence,

having instigated the Abbé Sieyès (whose authority was at that time

great with the Assembly) to bring the subject under discussion, called

on the tiers-état, still doubting and deliberating, to constitute

themselves at once, and without further waiting for the nobility, “The

Representatives of the French people.” They did so in reality, though

not in words, declaring themselves duly elected, and taking as their

title “The National Assembly.” The government thought to stop their

proceedings by simply shutting up the chamber where they had hitherto

met, but so paltry a device was insufficient to arrest the resolutions

of men whose minds were now prepared for important events. Encouraging

each other, the Commons rushed unhesitatingly to a tennis-court, and in

that spot, singularly destined to witness so solemn a ceremony, swore,

with but one dissentient voice, to stand by each other till France

had a constitution. After such an oath, the alternative was clearly

between the old monarchy, with all its abuses, and a new constitution,

whatever its dangers. On this ground, two orders in the State stood

hostilely confronted. But another order remained, whose conduct at such

a juncture was all-decisive. That order was the clergy,--which, still

respected if not venerated,--wealthy, connected by various links with

each portion of society, and especially looked up to by that great

and sluggish mass of quiet men who always stand long wavering between

extremes--had been endeavouring to effect some compromise between

the privileged classes and their opponents, but had as yet taken no

prominent part with either. The moment was come at which it could no

longer hesitate.

XIII.

M. de Talleyrand, though but a new dignitary in the church, was

already one of its most influential members. He had been excluded by

a prejudice of the nobility from the situation to which his birth had

entitled him amongst them. He had long resolved to obtain another

position at least as elevated through his own exertions. His views,

as we have seen, at the time of his election, were liberal, though

moderate, whilst he was sufficiently acquainted with the character

of Louis XVI. to know that that monarch would never sincerely yield,

nor ever sturdily resist, any concession demanded with persistency.

Partly, therefore, from a conviction that he was doing what was best

for the public, and partly, also, from the persuasion that he was

doing what was best for himself, he separated boldly from the rest of

his family (who were amongst the most devoted to the Comte d’Artois and

Marie-Antoinette), and laboured with unwearied energy to enlist the

body he belonged to on the popular side.

To succeed in this object he had the talents and advantages most

essential. His natural courtesy flattered the curates; his various

acquirements captivated his more learned brethren; his high birth gave

him the ear of the great ecclesiastical dignitaries; and, finally, a

majority of his order, instigated by his exertions and address, joined

the Third Estate, on the 22nd of June, in the Church of Saint-Louis.

From that moment the question hitherto doubtful was determined; for

at no time have the clergy and the commons stood side by side without

being victorious. It was in vain, therefore, that even so early as

the day following, the descendant of Louis XIV., in all the pomp of

royalty, and in the presence of the three orders--whom he had for that

day summoned to assemble--denounced the conduct which the tiers-état

had pursued, annulled their decisions, and threatened them with his

sovereign displeasure.

The tiers-état resisted; the King repented--retracted,--and showing

that he had no will, lost all authority. Thus, on the 27th of June,

the States-General, henceforth designated by the title which had been

already assumed by the Commons (the National Assembly), held their

deliberations together, and the three orders were confounded.

XIV.

But one step now remained in order to legalise the revolution in

progress. Each deputy had received a sort of mandate or instruction

from those who named him at the moment of his election. Such

instructions or mandates, which had been given at a time when

people could hardly anticipate the state of things which had since

arisen, limited, or seemed to limit, the action of a deputy to

particular points which had especially attracted the attention of his

constituents.

The conservative party contended that these mandates were imperative,

the liberal party that they were not. According to the first

supposition, the States-General could do no more than redress a few

grievances; according to the other, they could create a perfectly new

system of government.

The Bishop of Autun, in the first speech he delivered in the National

Assembly--a speech which produced considerable effect--argued in

favour of his own liberty and that of his colleagues, and his

views were naturally enough adopted by a body which, feeling its

own force, had to determine its own power. Hence, on the record of

two great decisions--the one solving the States-General into the

“National Assembly;” the other extending and fixing that Assembly’s

authority--decisions which, whatever their other results, were at least

fatal to the power and influence of the class to which he belonged by

birth, but from which he had, in spite of himself, been severed in

childhood--was indelibly inscribed the name of the once despised and

still disinherited cripple of the princely house of Périgord.

XV.

There was nothing henceforth to impede the labours of the National

Assembly, and it commenced those labours with earnestness and zeal,

if not with discretion. One of its first acts was to choose by ballot

a committee of eight members, charged to draw up the project of a

constitution, which was subsequently to be submitted to the Assembly.

The Bishop of Autun was immediately placed upon this select and

important committee. It had for its task to render practical the

political speculations of the eighteenth century. Things, however, had

commenced too violently for them to proceed thus peaceably; and as the

success of the popular party had been hitherto obtained by braving

the crown, it was to be expected that the crown would seize the first

opportunity that presented itself for boldly recovering its authority.

A well-timed effort of this kind might have been successful. But

neither Louis XVI., nor any of the counsellors in whom he confided,

possessed that instinct in political affairs which is the soul of

action, inspiring men with the resolve to do the right thing at the

right moment. It has often been found easy to crush a revolution at its

commencement, for the most ardent of its supporters at such a time act

feebly, and doubt about the policy they are pursuing. It has often been

found possible to arrest a revolution at that subsequent stage of its

progress when the moderate are shocked by some excess, or the sanguine

checked by some disappointment; but a revolution is invincible at

that crisis, when its progress, begun with boldness, has neither been

checked by misfortune, nor disgraced by violence.

Nevertheless, it was just at such a crisis that the unfortunate

Louis XVI., guided in a great degree by the fatal influence of his

brother, after having gradually surrounded Versailles and the capital

with troops, suddenly banished M. Necker (July 10th), whose disgrace

was instantly considered the defeat of those who advised the King

to renovate his authority by concessions, and the triumph of those

who counselled him to recover and re-establish it by force. But the

measures which were to follow this act were still in suspense, when a

formidable insurrection broke out at Paris. A portion of the soldiery

sided with the people. The Bastille was taken, and its commandant

put to death, the populace got possession of arms, the prevôt or

mayor of the city was assassinated, whilst the army which had been so

ostentatiously collected in the Champ de Mars and at St. Denis was left

an inactive witness of the insurrection which its array had provoked.

The results were those which usually follow the strong acts of weak

men: Louis XVI. submitted; M. Necker was recalled; the Comte d’Artois

emigrated.

It was M. de Talleyrand’s fortune not merely at all times to quit a

falling party at the commencement of its decline, but to stand firm

by a rising party at the moment of its struggle for success. This

was seen during the contest we have just been describing. Throughout

that contest the Bishop of Autun was amongst the most determined

for maintaining the rights of the nation against the designs of the

court. His decision and courage added not a little to the reputation

which had been already gained by his ability. We find his name,

therefore, first in the list of a small number of eminent men,[9] whom

the Assembly, when surrounded by hostile preparations for restoring

the despotism which had been abolished, charged, in a bold but not

imprudent spirit of defiance, with the task of at once completing and

establishing the constitution which had been promised, and which it

had become evident there was no intention to accord. The labour of

these statesmen, however, was not easy, even after their cause was

triumphant, for political victories often leave the conquerors--in

the excess of their own passions, and the exaggeration of their own

principles--worse enemies than those whom they have vanquished. Such

was the case now.

XVI.

In the exultation of the moment all moderate notions were laid

aside, and succeeded by a blind excitement in favour of the most

sweeping changes. Nor was this excitement the mere desire of vulgar

and selfish interest stirring the minds of those who hoped to better

their own condition: nobler and loftier emotions lit up the breasts

of men who had only sacrifices to make with a generous enthusiasm.

“Nos âmes,” says the elder Ségur, “étaient alors enivrées d’une

douce philanthropie, qui nous portait à chercher avec passion les

moyens d’être utiles à l’humanité, et de rendre le sort des hommes

plus heureux.”[10] On the 4th of August, “a day memorable with one

party,” observes M. Mignet, “as the St. Bartholomew of property,

and with the other as the St. Bartholomew of abuses,”--personal

service, feudal obligations, pecuniary immunities, trade corporations,

seignorial privileges, and courts of law,--all municipal and provincial

rights,--the whole system of judicature,--based on the purchase and

sale of judicial charges, and which, singular to state, had, however

absurd in theory, hitherto produced in practice learned, able, and

independent magistrates,--in short, almost all the institutions and

peculiarities which constituted the framework of government and society

throughout France, were unhesitatingly swept away, at the instigation

and demand of the first magistrates and nobles of the land, who did not

sufficiently consider that they who destroy at once all existing laws

(whatever those laws may be), destroy at the same time all established

habits of thought;--that is, all customs of obedience, all spontaneous

feelings of respect and affection, without which a form of government

is merely an idea on paper.

In after times, M. de Talleyrand, when speaking of this period, said,

in one of his characteristic phrases, “_La Révolution a désossé la

France._” But it is easier to be a witty critic of by-gone history,

than a cool and impartial actor in passing events; and at the time to

which I am alluding the Bishop of Autun was, undoubtedly, amongst the

foremost in destroying the traditions which constitute a community, and

proclaiming the theories which captivate a mob. The wholesale abolition

of institutions, which must have had something worth preserving or

they would never have produced a great and polished society honourably

anxious to reform its own defects, was sanctioned by his vote; and the

“rights of man,” the acknowledgment of which did so little to secure

the property or life of the citizen, were proclaimed in the words that

he suggested.

It is difficult to conceive how so cool and sagacious a statesman could

have imagined that an old society was to be well governed by entirely

new laws, or that practical liberty could be founded on a declaration

of abstract principles. A sane mind, however, does not always escape

an epidemic folly; any more than a sound body escapes an epidemic

disease. Moreover, in times when to censure unnecessary changes is to

pass for being the patron, and often in reality to be the supporter,

of inveterate abuses, no one carries out, or can hope to carry out,

precisely his own ideas. Men act in masses: the onward pressure of one

party is regulated by the opposing resistance of another: to pursue

a policy, it may be expedient for those who do not feel, to feign,

a passion; and a wise man may excuse his participation in an absurd

enthusiasm by observing it was the only means to vanquish still more

absurd prejudices.

Still, if M. de Talleyrand was at this moment an exaggerated reformer,

he at least did not exhibit one frequent characteristic of exaggerated

reformers, by being so wholly occupied in establishing some delusive

scheme of future perfection, as to despise the present absolute

necessities. He saw from the first that, if the new organization of the

State was really to be effected, it could only be so by re-establishing

confidence in its resources, and that a national bankruptcy would be a

social dissolution. When, therefore, M. Necker (on the 25th of August)

presented to the Assembly a memoir on the situation of the finances,

asking for a loan of eighty millions of francs, the Bishop of Autun

supported this loan without hesitation; demonstrating the importance of

sustaining the public credit; and shortly afterwards (in September),

when the loan thus granted was found insufficient to satisfy the

obligations of the State, he again aided the minister in obtaining from

the Assembly a tax of twenty-five per cent. on the income of every

individual throughout France. A greater national sacrifice has rarely

been made in a moment of national distress, and has never been made

for a more honourable object. It is impossible, indeed, not to feel an

interest in the exertions of men animated, amidst all their errors, by

so noble a spirit, and not to regret that with aspirations so elevated,

and abilities so distinguished, they should have failed so deplorably

in their efforts to unite liberty with order--vigour with moderation.

But Providence seems to have prescribed as an almost universal rule

that everything which is to have a long duration must be of slow

growth. Nor is this all: we must expect that, in times of revolution,

contending parties will constantly be hurried into collisions contrary

to their reason, and fatal to their interests, but inevitably suggested

by their anger or suspicions. Hence the wisest intentions are at the

mercy of the most foolish incidents. Such an incident now occurred.

A military festival at Versailles, which the royal family imprudently

attended, and in which it perhaps idly delighted to excite a profitless

enthusiasm amongst its guards and adherents, alarmed the multitude

at Paris, already irritated by an increasing scarcity of food, and

dreading an appeal to the army on the part of the sovereign, as

the sovereign dreaded an appeal to the people on the part of the

popular leaders. The men of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, and the

women of the market-place, either impelled by their own pressing

wants and indefinite fears, or guided (as it was then--I believe

falsely--reported) by the secret influence of the Duc d’Orléans, were

soon seen pouring from the dark corners of the capital, and covering

the broad and stately road which leads to the long-venerated palace,

where, since the time of the “Great Monarch,” his descendants had held

their court. In the midst of an accidental tumult, this lawless rabble

entered the royal residence, massacreing its defenders.

The King was rescued from actual violence, though not from insult, and

escorted with a sort of decorum to the Tuileries, which he henceforth

inhabited, nominally as the supreme magistrate of the State, but in

reality as a prisoner. The National Assembly followed him to Paris.

XVII.

The events of which I have been speaking took place on the 5th

and 6th of October; and were, to the advocates of constitutional

monarchy, what the previous insurrection, in July, had been to the

advocates of absolute power. Moderate men began to fear that it

was no longer possible to ally the dignity and independence of the

crown with the rights and liberties of the people: and MM. Mounier

and Lally-Tollendal, considered the leaders of that party which

from the first had declared the desire to establish in France a

mixed constitutional government, similar to that which prevailed in

England--disheartened and disgusted--quitted the Assembly. Hitherto, M.

de Talleyrand had appeared disposed to act with these statesmen, but he

did not now imitate their conduct: on the contrary, it was precisely at

the moment when they separated themselves from the Revolution, that he

brought forward a motion which connected him irrevocably with it.

Had affairs worn a different aspect, it is probable that he would not

have compromised himself so decidedly in favour of a scheme which

was certain to encounter a determined and violent opposition: still

it is but just to observe that his conduct in this instance was in

perfect conformity with the course he had previously pursued, and

the sentiments he had previously expressed, both with respect to the

exigencies of the State and the property of the Church. I have shown,

indeed, the interest he had manifested in maintaining the public

credit, first by supporting a loan of eighty millions of francs, and

secondly by voting a property tax of twenty-five per cent. But the

one had proved merely a temporary relief, and the other had not given

an adequate return; for, as the whole administration of the country

had been disorganized, so the collection of taxes was precarious and

difficult. Some new resource had to be sought for. There was but one

left. The clergy had already resigned their tithes, which at first had

only been declared purchasable, and had also given up their plate. When

M. de Juisné, Archbishop of Paris, made the two first donations in the

name of his brethren, he had been seconded by the Bishop of Autun; and

it was the Bishop of Autun who now proposed (on the 10th of October)

that all that remained to the clergy--their land--should, on certain

conditions, be placed at the disposal of the nation.

XVIII.

M. Pozzo di Borgo, a man in no wise inferior to M. de Talleyrand,

though somewhat jealous of him, once said to me, “Cet homme s’est fait

grand en se rangeant toujours parmi les petits, et en aidant ceux qui

avaient le plus besoin de lui.”[11]

The propensity which M. Pozzo di Borgo somewhat bitterly but not

inaccurately described, and which perhaps was in a certain degree

the consequence of that nice perception of his own interests which

guided the person whom I designate as “politic” through life almost

like an instinct, was especially visible in the present instance. No

one can doubt that, at the moment when every other institution was

overturned in France, a great change in the condition of the French

church, against which the spirit of the eighteenth century had been

particularly directed, was an event not to be avoided. Alone amidst the

general prodigality, this corporation by its peculiar condition had

been able to preserve all its wealth, whilst it had lost almost all its

power.

The feeble and the rich in times of commotion are the natural prey of

the strong and the needy; and, therefore, directly the nation commenced

a revolution to avoid a bankruptcy, the ecclesiastical property was

pretty sure, a little sooner or a little later, to be appropriated to

the public exigencies. Such an appropriation, nevertheless, was not

without difficulties; and what the laity most wanted was a churchman of

position and consideration who would sanction a plan for surrendering

the property of the church. The opinions expressed by a man of so high

a rank amongst the nobility and the clergy as the Bishop of Autun, were

therefore of considerable importance, and likely to give him--those

opinions being popular--an important position, which was almost certain

(M. Necker’s influence being already undermined) to lead--should a

new ministry be formed on the liberal side--to office. Mirabeau, in

fact, in a note written in October, which proposes a new ministerial

combination, leaves M. Necker as the nominal head of the government

“in order to discredit him,” proposes himself as a member of the royal

council without a department, and gives the post of minister of finance

to the Bishop of Autun, saying, “His motion on the clergy has won him

that place.”[12]

The argument with which the Bishop introduced the motion here alluded

to has been so often repeated since the period to which I am referring,

and has so influenced the condition of the clergy throughout a great

portion of Europe, that it cannot be read without interest. “The

State,” said M. de Talleyrand, “has been for a long time struggling

with the most urgent wants. This is known to all of us. Some adequate

means must be found to supply those wants. All ordinary sources are

exhausted. The people are ground down. The slightest additional

impost would be justly insupportable to them. Such a thing is not

to be thought of. Extraordinary means for supplying the necessities

of the State have been resorted to: but these were destined to the

extraordinary wants of this year. Extraordinary resources of some

kind are now wanted for the future; without them, order cannot be

established. There is one such resource, immense and decisive: and

which, in my opinion (or otherwise I should reject it), can be made

compatible with the strictest respect for property. I mean the landed

estate of the church.

…

“Already a great operation with regard to this estate is inevitable, in

order to provide suitably for those whom the relinquishment of tithes

has left destitute.

…

“I think it unnecessary to discuss at length the question of church

property. What appears to me certain is, that the clergy is not a

proprietor like other proprietors, inasmuch as that the property

which it enjoys (and of which it cannot dispose) was given to it--not

for its own benefit, but for the performance of duties which are to

benefit the community. What appears to me also certain is, that the

nation, exercising an almost unlimited power over all the bodies within

its bosom, possesses--not the right to destroy the whole body of the

clergy, because that body is required for the service of religion--but

the right to destroy any particular aggregations of such body whenever

they are either prejudicial or simply useless; and if the State

possesses this right over the existence of prejudicial or useless

aggregations of the clergy, it evidently possesses a similar right over

the property of such aggregations.

“It appears to me also clear that as the nation is bound to see

that the purpose for which foundations or endowments were made is

fulfilled, and that those who endowed the church meant that the clergy

should perform certain functions: so, if there be any benefices where

such functions are not performed, the nation has a right to suppress

those benefices, and to grant the funds, therefrom derived, to any

members of the clergy who can employ them according to the object with

which they were given.

…

“But although it is just to destroy aggregations of the clergy

which are either prejudicial or useless, and to confiscate their

property--although it is just to suppress benefices which are no longer

useful for the object for which such benefices were endowed--is it just

to confiscate or reduce the revenue of those dignitaries and members

of the church, who are now actually living and performing the services

which belong to their sacred calling?

…

“For my own part, I confess the arguments employed to support the

contrary opinion appear to me to admit of several answers. I shall

submit one very simple answer to the Assembly.

“However the possession of a property may be guaranteed and made

inviolable by law, it is evident that the law cannot change the nature

of such property in guaranteeing it.

“Thus, in a question of ecclesiastical property, it can only assure to

each titulary the enjoyment of the actual donation of the founder. But

every one is aware that, according to the titles of church property, as

well as according to the various laws of the church, which explain the

spirit and meaning of these titles, the only part of church property to

which the ecclesiastic has any individual right is that necessary for

his honest subsistence: the remainder has to be applied to the relief

of the poor, or to the maintenance of places of worship. If then the

nation assures to the holder of a benefice, whatever that benefice

may be, his necessary subsistence, it does not violate his individual

property; and if at the same time that it takes possession of that

portion of his revenue which is not required for his subsistence, it

assumes the other obligations attached to the benefice in question,

such as the maintenance of hospitals, the performance of works of

charity, the repairing of churches, the expenses of public education,

&c.; and, above all, if it does this in a moment of general distress,

I cannot but believe that the intentions of the donors will be fully

carried out, and that justice will still be maintained.

“I think, then, that the nation in a period of general distress may

appropriate the property of those religious establishments which it

deems it necessary to suppress, by securing to their dependants their

necessary subsistence; that it may also profit by all benefices to

which no duties are attached, and assure to itself the reversion of

all such benefices as may hereafter fall into that condition; and

lastly, that it may reduce all extravagant salaries now enjoyed by the

clergy if it take to itself all the obligations--apart from the decent

maintenance of the clergy--which originally attached to church property

according to the founder’s bequest. Such are the principles according

to which the State may, in my opinion, legitimately appropriate the

whole of the ecclesiastical property, on assuring to the clergy

therefrom what would be sufficient for their decent support.”

XIX.

Thus M. de Talleyrand contended:--

1st. That the members of the clergy were not like other proprietors,

inasmuch as they held their property not for their own enjoyment but

for the performance of certain duties, and that it was only intended

that they should have out of the proceeds of that property a decent

subsistence, the residue being destined for the support of the poor and

the maintenance of religious edifices.

2nd. That the State could alter the distribution of church property,

or rather the payment of the clergy, and also totally suppress such

ecclesiastical institutions as it deemed injurious or not requisite; as

well as such useless benefices as were then vacant, or might become

vacant; and, as a matter of course, employ the revenue which was

thereto attached, in the manner which might seem best adapted to the

general advantage.

3rd. That in a moment of great and national distress it might

altogether take possession of the whole property held by the clergy,

and appropriate the same to public purposes; if at the same time it

took upon itself those charges with which the clergy were intrusted,

and also provided for the clergy themselves a fixed and adequate

support. He did not, however, propose, as some may have idly imagined,

and have unjustly stated, to reduce his order to a state of indigence;

on the contrary, presuming the revenue of the church property,

including the tithes (which he would still have had collected as

national revenue), to be about a hundred and fifty millions of francs,

he advised the government to make a yearly grant of no less than a

hundred millions--never to be reduced below eighty-five millions--for

the support of the clergy, no member of it receiving less than twelve

hundred francs, to which was added a dwelling; and when we consider

that the tithes having been surrendered, the ecclesiastical revenue was

at that time reduced to seventy-five millions, the rent of the land;

and when we consider also that the ecclesiastical budget, including the

payment of all religions, has never, since that period, amounted to

the sum which M. de Talleyrand was disposed to allow, I think it must

be acknowledged that the proposals I have been describing, looking at

all the difficulties of the times, were not to be despised, and that

the French clergy would have acted more prudently if they had at once

accepted them, although it must be confessed that any bargain made in

changeful times between a power which is sinking in the State and a

power which is rising, is rarely kept faithfully by the latter.

But the clergy, at all events, and the high clergy especially,

would not accept this bargain. They complained not so much of the

insufficiency of the provision which was to be made for them, as of the

grievance of having an income as proprietors changed into a salary as

functionaries. They contended, in short, that they were proprietors

like other proprietors, and that the Bishop of Autun had misstated

their case and justified their robbery.

In this state of things--whatever the real nature of the title under

which the church held its possessions--whatever the imprudence of the

clergy themselves in resisting the compromise that was proposed to

them as an equivalent for the surrender of those possessions--it was

impossible forcibly to confiscate a property which a great corporation

had held indisputedly for ages and which it declared itself unwilling

to resign, without weakening the respect for property in general,

and weakening also, by the questions and discussions to which such

a measure was certain to give rise, the respect for religion: thus

enfeebling and undermining--at a moment when (amidst the falling ruins

of an old government and society) it was most essential to strengthen

and preserve--those foundations on which every society that pretends to

be civilized, and every government that intends to be honest, has to

establish its existence.

“The wise,” says a great reformer, “should be cautious about

making great changes when the foolish are clamorous for dangerous

innovations.” But although the maxim may be a good one, I suspect that

it is more likely to be professed by the speculative philosopher than

followed by the ambitious statesman.

There are, in fact, moments in the history of nations when certain

events are, by the multiplied force of converging circumstances,

inevitably foredoomed; and in such moments, whilst the ignorant man

is obstinate, the proud man firm, the religious man resigned, the

“_politic_ man” accommodates himself to fate, and only attempts to mix

up as much good as he can with the evil which has to be accepted.

It is easy to conceive, therefore, that when M. de Talleyrand proposed

the appropriation of the church property by the State, he did so

because he saw that at all events it would be appropriated; because he

thought that he might as well obtain the popularity which was to be

got by the proposition; and likewise because he could thus bargain for

such conditions as, if they had been frankly accepted by one party

and fairly carried out by the other, would have secured an honourable

existence to the clergy and an immense relief to the State. I say an

immense relief to the State, since, according to the calculations which

the Bishop of Autun submitted to the Assembly--and these seem to have

been made with consideration--had the immense property, valued at two

milliards of francs, been properly sold, and the proceeds properly

applied, these, by paying off money borrowed at enormous interest and

life annuities which were granted at an extravagant loss, might with

tolerable economy have converted a deficit of some millions of francs

into a surplus of about the same amount.

But it happened at this time, as it not unfrequently happens when

passion and prudence unite in some great enterprise, the part which

passion counselled was consummated completely and at once; the part

which prudence suggested was transformed and spoilt in the execution.

To this subject I shall by-and-by have to return.

XX.

The motion of M. de Talleyrand with respect to the property of the

church was carried on the 2nd of November, 1789, after some stormy

debates; and the party he had defeated now classed him amongst its

bitterest opponents. But, on the 4th of December, he gained more than

a party triumph by the singular lucidity with which, on the question

of establishing a bank at Paris and restoring order generally to the

French finances, he explained the principles of banking and public

credit, which the public at that time enveloped in the mystery with

which ignorance surrounds those subjects which are detailed in figures,

and involve such vast interests as the resources and necessities of a

nation.

The admirable talent which M. de Talleyrand displayed on this occasion

consisted in rendering clear what appeared obscure, and simple what

seemed abstract. After showing that a bank could only exist with

benefit to itself and to others by its credit--and that this credit

could not be the effect of a paper money with a forced currency, on

which some persons were disposed to form one, inasmuch as that a

currency which was forced was nothing more or less than an exhibition

of the insolvency of the institution which it was intended to

protect--he turned to the general condition and credit of the State,

and said: “The time, gentlemen, is gone by for complicated fiscal

plans, learnedly and artfully combined, which are merely invented to

delay by temporary resources the crisis which is inevitably arriving.

All the contrivances of wit and cunning are exhausted. For the future,

honesty must replace genius. Side by side with the evidence of our

calamities must be placed the evidence of their remedy. All must be

reduced to the simplicity of an account-book--drawn up by good sense,

kept by good faith.”

This speech obtained for its author general encomiums: it was praised

in the boudoir of the fine lady, for the elegance of its style; in

the country house of the banker, for the soundness of its views;

even the Faubourg St. Germain acknowledged that M. de Talleyrand,

though a _scélérat_ (a rascal), was a statesman, and that in those

iniquitous times a _scélérat_, a man of quality, and a statesman,

might be useful to his country. Such universal popularity did not last

long. In the following month (January 31, 1790), the liberal bishop

declared himself in favour of conferring upon a Jew the rights of a

French citizen. This opinion--considered by many as a double outrage

against the distinctions hitherto maintained between castes and between

creeds--admitted of no pardon from a large portion of that society

which M. de Talleyrand had formerly frequented; and I have read, in

some tale of the time, that the Marquis de Travanet, a famous player of

“tric-trac,” used subsequently to say, in making what is called “_la

case du diable_,” “_je fais la case de l’évêque d’Autun_.”

A man’s reputation, however, when parties run high, is not unfrequently

made by his opponents; and the name of M. de Talleyrand now rose in the

country and the Assembly just in proportion as it sank in the circles

of the court and amongst the extreme partisans of priestly intolerance

and royal prerogative.

Few persons had, in fact, rendered such important services to the cause

which he had espoused. To his endeavours, as we have seen, it was

mainly owing that the clergy joined the commons in the church of St.

Louis, and thus constituted the States-General. Shortly afterwards,

by contending against the imperative nature of those orders which the

members of the States-General had received from their constituents, he

had aided in no small degree in releasing the National Assembly from

the instructions which would otherwise have fettered its progress.

Elected a member of the committee, appointed to prepare the new

constitution which was to be given to France, his labours had been

amongst the most valuable of that body, and the future rights of

Frenchmen had been proclaimed in the words which he had suggested as

most appropriate. Evincing on all questions of finance that knowledge

of principles which produces clearness of statement, he had ably

assisted M. Necker in the measures by which that statesman had sought

to reassure public credit and raise the revenue; and, finally, he had

delivered up the wealth and power of his own order, as a sacrifice

(such, at least, was his pretension) to the public weal.

The part which he had taken in the proceedings of the Assembly was,

indeed, so considerable, that it was thought that no one could be

better qualified to explain and defend its conduct. With such an

explanation or defence he was charged; and he executed his task in

a sort of memoir or manifesto to the French nation. This manifesto

was read in the National Assembly on the 10th of February, 1790, and

subsequently published and circulated throughout France. It has long

since been forgotten amongst the many papers of a similar kind which

have marked and justified the successive changes that France has for

the last eighty years undergone.

But the skill and address of its composition was the subject of

universal praise at the time of its appearance, and it still remains

a remarkable exhibition of the ideas, and a skilful and able attempt

to vindicate the actions, of an epoch which is yet awaiting the final

judgment of posterity.

XXI.

The memoir or manifesto, to which I have been alluding, announced the

abolition of privileges, the reform of the church, the institution

of a representative chamber and a citizen guard; and promised a new

system of taxation, and a general plan of education. It was read, as

I have said, on the 10th of February, in the National Assembly, and

on the 16th of the same month its author was named president of that

assembly[13] by a majority of three hundred and seventy-five votes

to one hundred and twenty-five, although the Abbé Sieyès--no mean

rival--was his competitor.

This honour received additional solidity from a most able report

in favour of the uniformity of weights and measures, which M. de

Talleyrand made to the Assembly on the 30th April, 1790: a report

which, carrying out the idea that Turgot had been anxious to establish,

and furnishing a method for destroying the inconvenient distinctions

which separated province from province, laid the foundation for that

uniform system which now prevails throughout the French dominions.

Nor would M. de Talleyrand have applied this project merely to

France; he at the same time suggested that commissions from the

Academy of Sciences in Paris and the Royal Society in London should

be appointed to fix on some natural unity for measure and weight,

which should be alike applicable to England and France. “_Chacune des

deux nations_,” he added, “_formerait sur cette mesure ses étalons,

qu’elle conserverait avec le plus grand soin, de telle sorte que si, au

bout de plusieurs siècles, on s’apercevait, de quelque variation dans

l’année sidérale, les étalons pussent servir à l’évaluer, et par là à

lier ce point important du système du monde à une grande époque--celle

de l’Assemblée Nationale. Peut-être même est-il permis de voir dans

ce concours de deux nations interrogeant ensemble la nature, pour

en obtenir un résultat important, le principe d’une union politique,

operée par l’entremise des sciences._”[14]

It is impossible not to sympathise with a conception at once so

elevated and so practical as that which is here expressed; and rejoice

at thus finding an example of what Bacon--himself no less a statesman

than a philosopher--claims as the attribute of men of science and

letters, viz.: that when they do give themselves up to public affairs,

they carry thereunto a spirit more lofty and comprehensive than that

which animates the mere politician.

The greater part of the work which the Assembly had proposed to itself,

was now terminated. The old monarchy and aristocracy were destroyed;

the new powers of the crown and the people were defined; the new

divisions of the country into departments, districts, and communes,

were marked out; the new organisation of the tribunals of justice

was decreed. No one entirely approved of the constitution thus to be

created, but there was an almost universal satisfaction at its being so

nearly completed.