Chapter VI: The Last Moments of Prince Talleyrand (2)

The importance of the crisis at which we have arrived cannot fail frequently to claim your attention. At the present juncture we may, by prompt and honest decision, preserve peace, or by prolonged hesitation we may enable intriguers (too numerous a class both here and in Belgium) to compromise the destinies of Europe, and of the dynasty which the voice of the nation has raised to the throne of France. I await with the utmost anxiety and impatience the reply of the French Cabinet to the various questions proposed by the four Powers; the delay of that reply probably causes indecision in the opinions of the plenipotentiaries assembled here. For Heaven’s sake let not the Belgians, who are so stupid as not to perceive all that has been done for them, and the Dutch, who are stimulated by bitter hatred, draw us into this deplorable contest! Let us not suffer an affair, trivial in itself, to disturb the equilibrium of the world, and to unbridle the fiercest passions. All will be ended, all consummated on the day when France, conjointly with the four other Powers, shall declare that Belgium is to retain her _old boundaries, her independence, and her neutrality_. On that day the Dutch will be paralysed, the Germanic Confederation will halt, the Belgians will be subdued, the conference will choose Prince Leopold for king, and peace will be secured. If France be so blind as to censure your administration for having saved her in spite of herself—if she be unjust to those who have preserved her—then, sir, you will cease to be minister, and I shall cease to be ambassador. We shall forfeit our posts for having defended and maintained a great principle, for which future ages will honour us. In short, we may be sacrificed, but let it be in the cause of peace, in the cause of civilization and of good order, and in defence of a sovereign whom we love, and whose throne will fall in the general destruction now impending. There is but little time for averting the terrible disaster which my old experience foresees, and of which your quick and accurate discernment must have enabled you to warn the council. But, sir, let your decisions be formed singly with yourself. The powers of the clearest head, and soundest judgment, cannot be freely exercised except when withdrawn from the turbulence of one party, the timidity of another, and unbiassed by the ignorance of outward affairs which is so marked a trait in the French character. The intelligence of the French people, shrewd as it is, scarcely ever extends beyond the frontiers of their own country, and therefore they labour under the singular mistake of supposing that England cannot go to war with us. They do not perceive that the vast concession made by the recent Reform Bill has conferred on the English ministry a temporary popularity, of which they will freely avail themselves to obtain the means of opposing us; and that this means will be much more readily accorded to the present administration than it would have been to that of the Duke of Wellington. Our July revolution is tarnished by circumstances which have greatly obscured its lustre; and it has been justly observed that anarchy and disorder are not very formidable ramparts to be opposed to an enemy. However, there appears to be no disposition to attack us, more especially since the questions of right and law have been entrusted to you. But whenever we give reason to warrant suspicions of our good faith, or of our capability to repress turbulent movements, then, rest assured, that England will, though reluctantly, oppose us with an immensity and a facility of power at which France will be astounded.

On the other hand all that is required of us is to be firm at home and moderate abroad. There is no intention to take anything from us; on the contrary, many concessions on the part of neighbouring powers have been assented to. But it is wished to preserve general peace and security, and not to grant to nations, whose independence has been recognised in spite of old treaties, the right of conquest over countries which have never belonged to them, and which are the guaranteed property of others. For our own sake, sir, as well as for the general good, it were to be wished that every individual composing the French cabinet could comprehend the principle of _non-intervention_ in the way in which it was understood by M. de Rigny at Navarino.

LETTER FROM PRINCE TALLEYRAND TO COUNT SEBASTIANI, ON THE AFFAIRS OF
BELGIUM.

London, January 25th, 1831.

MONSIEUR LE COMTE,—Count Flahaut arrived here the day before yesterday, and delivered to me the letter which you entrusted to his charge. I thank you for having chosen him as the bearer of it.

The raising of the siege of Antwerp, and the irritation of the King of Holland, prove that the conference was sufficiently rigorous towards both parties to obtain the wished-for result.

My conversation with M. de Flahaut has furnished me with some valuable information respecting the ideas and intentions of the king’s government relative to the affairs which I am directed to manage here, and also respecting the state of public opinion in France. I, however, regret that Count Flahaut had left France before my despatch of the 21st reached you. The intelligence it contained of the resolution adopted by the conference must necessarily influence the views of the king and his council, as well as the line of policy to be pursued towards Belgium. I congratulate myself on the declaration of neutrality, which has been received with great satisfaction by the statesmen of this country. All, to whatsoever party they belong, regard it as a measure of wise policy, honourable to modern civilization, and calculated to ensure the maintenance of peace by the facility it affords for conciliating, if not all claims, at least all essential interests. I must add, however, that whilst acceding to the measure, they regard it as wholly tending to the advantage of France.

I am aware that, in the juncture at which affairs have arrived in Belgium, and amidst the embarrassment which this state of things entails on France and Europe, the public mind has been agitated by schemes of the most opposite character. The avowed neutrality has now rendered most of these plans utterly impracticable, and has enabled me to revive, with advantage, the question of the Prince of Naples, to which, at first, so much opposition was manifested. I even think that we shall completely succeed in rendering the city of Antwerp a free port, or rather in making it one of the Hanse Towns; and I am not quite certain but that we may arrive at this result without Antwerp ceasing to belong, as a free port, to Belgium. From the day on which the protocol was signed, such is the line of policy I have pursued, and I shall continue to follow it up, unless I receive contrary instructions from you.

This plan has the advantage of showing how utterly useless would be any concession made to England on the continent. I will even acknowledge that it was with the view of banishing any idea of that nature that I adopted the system I am now pursuing. I should have deeply regretted to see the king’s name and yours attached to a clause which, in my opinion, would render our government liable to the charge of being indifferent to the judgment of posterity.

History bears evidence to the difficulties entailed by the prolonged occupation of Calais by the English, and it records the favours lavished on the Guises, when they relieved France from that disgrace. These lessons ought not to be thrown away upon us. The same mistakes may be followed by the same results, and may obliterate the stamp of independence which is attached to all the acts of the king’s government. I am certain that his majesty is too high-minded to dwell long on the idea of a plan which, without having any direct effect on our own country, would cause us to be reproached for the manner in which we have exercised our continental power.

No one will go so far as to deny that the annexation of Belgium to France would be an advantage, though an aggrandizement of territory on the bank of the Rhine would be more in accordance with my notions of French policy. I admit that the annexation of Belgium would render popular, for a time, the government that might bring it about, notwithstanding its injurious effects on French industry. But you may rely on it, Count, that that popularity would be exceedingly transient, if purchased at the price that is proposed to be paid for it. There is no reputation, however solid, that would not be shaken by a measure of such a nature. Does not every one blame the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, for having brought the Russians into Europe? What a heavy judgment would fall on those who should bring the English back on the continent! It is best not to throw ourselves into contact with those whom we cannot reach on their own ground.

I am convinced, Monsieur le Comte, if you were plenipotentiary here, you would never affix your name to an act which not even the most protracted and most disastrous war would justify.

NOTE OF M. COLMACHE.—The Minister for Foreign Affairs (Count
Sebastiani) made no reply to the above severe, but just comments
on the unworthy proposition which Count Flahaut had undertaken to
communicate to the French embassy.

OBSERVATIONS ON THE TRIAL OF PEERS BY THE CHAMBER OF PEERS, AND THE
REASONS ON WHICH TALLEYRAND GROUNDED HIS VOTE IN THE AFFAIR OF
LIEUTENANTS-GENERAL GUILLEMINOT AND BORDESOULLE.

Our political laws have existed only during the space of a few years. We have witnessed their creation and their birth. As yet they are scarcely anything more than theories. Time alone will convert them into practical laws. In other words, we possess laws, but we do not yet possess jurisprudence.

Amidst all the uncertainties necessarily arising out of such a state of things, it has appeared to me that my duty, as a Peer of France, was to seek, in reflection, for that light and knowledge which experience cannot afford. The following chain of ideas has aided me in the accomplishment of this duty.

The first question I put to myself was, What is the Court of Peers? The answer is, An extraordinary tribunal, instituted by the Charter, for judging certain affairs which that Charter has withdrawn from the ordinary tribunals, either on account of the serious nature of the crimes, or by reason of the rank of the individuals accused. Such, it appears to me, are the meaning and the spirit of Articles 33 and 34 of our fundamental law.

Is this a wise institution? Is it beneficial to the country? I would answer in the affirmative. But these points are not for me to determine. The Charter has decreed, and that is sufficient.

Now, in what does this extraordinary tribunal resemble the ordinary tribunals? Can it be tied down to the same forms of procedure? I find that the law—the faithful guardian of the interests of society, whilst it declares that crime must not escape punishment, is, nevertheless, more watchful in protecting the innocent than in punishing the guilty. It has therefore wisely established hierarchical degrees in the judiciary organization. It separates the accusation from the judgment, and even after judgment the condemned is empowered to appeal for its annulment, if, in the long course of proceedings, a single one of the prescribed tutelary forms shall have been violated or disavowed.

But in the Court of Peers there are no hierarchic degrees; there is not, and cannot be, a chamber of accusation distinct from the court of judgment, where the accusers are themselves the judges. When the Court of Peers has pronounced, the condemned party has no appeal, either on the score of form or fact. The mercy of the king alone can save him. The justice of the Court of Peers is one and indivisible; its action is prompt and irreformable, and against its decisions there is no appeal. It must not be supposed that public feeling rises in alarm against a tribunal which, by its inflexible rapidity, promptly terminates the most important affairs. On the contrary, innocence will always appeal for its protection, and guilt itself will seek refuge in the august sanctuary. The reason is, that the guarantee afforded by the tardy forms of the ordinary courts, is abundantly atoned for by the vast number of the judges in the Court of Peers—by the importance attached to their elevated position—and by the sort of religious awe which takes possession of them, when, at distant intervals, the law calls them from the peaceful habits of their lives, and arms them with the sword of justice.

Thus it is shown that ordinary justice is hierarchical and successive, whilst, that of the Peers is indivisible and instantaneous. Ordinary justice, by reason of its hierarchical character, is susceptible of change both in its nature and in its forms; the justice of the Peers, inasmuch as it is indivisible, is incapable of change.

But this is not the only difference existing between ordinary justice and that which the Charter has confided to our administration. The course of ordinary justice commences in secrecy and ends in publicity. Over the proceedings of the Court of Peers publicity presides, from their commencement to their close.

When ordinary justice conceives suspicions against a private individual, it silently takes measures for repressing the crime or the offence. Even in cases in which it is deemed necessary to deprive the accused of his liberty, the accusation may remain a secret between the magistrate and the accused. Should the suspicion prove unfounded, and the accused be restored to liberty by the Chamber of Accusation, (the first degree in the judicial hierarchy,) that liberation sufficiently repairs the injury sustained by personal honour in the sphere of society to which the accused belongs. But, gentlemen, is it so when the Peers are called upon to render justice in the case of any one of those accused persons whom the law consigns to their judgment? Is not a discussion in the Chamber of Peers an important event in itself? Does not the matter to which it refers immediately become the subject of general conversation? and, if the names compromised should include those of men whose services to the State have long rendered them objects of public esteem, or even of national pride, what a sensation is excited! what conjectures are afloat! what a fine field is opened for calumny, for the outpourings of envy, hatred, and every vile passion! And, in the face of all this, are we to acquit clandestinely and without publicity, our colleagues, so injuriously compromised; and, by a silent absolution, to deprive them of the atonement they are entitled to expect from your courageous and just impartiality?

A serious affair has been submitted to our deliberation by the crown. Our duty is to judge it as a Court of Peers. In this chamber accusations have been uttered, more or less grave. We cannot forget that the names of several noble Peers have, from base motives, been compromised in this affair. It is our duty to render them full and complete justice. By what means shall we do so?

In my endeavours to solve this question, I had almost arrived at the conclusion, that the proper course would be to arraign the accused before the court, to hear the sentence pronounced on them. But further consideration soon convinced me that we had entered on a mistaken and perilous course, and that our first duty is to end the scandalous controversy, in which virtue and honour have been exposed to the vilest attacks. What, in reality, is the question at issue? Great errors have been committed. French treasure has been improvidently wasted. But improvidence cannot be made amenable to the law. On looking over the list of the accused, I perceive only the names of men more or less obscure, suspected of acts more or less mean and contemptible—acts for the commission of which war ever has and ever will afford ample opportunity.

Three hundred millions have been expended in the Spanish war. Of that enormous sum scarcely the sixth part has been absorbed by the victorious army; and yet, inconceivable as it may appear, that army has been made to bear the whole responsibility.

However painful the recollection, it is nevertheless necessary to bear in mind the dismay which prevailed throughout Paris when, shortly after the departure of the Prince Generalissimo, the _Moniteur_ officially announced the existence of a military conspiracy. The nucleus of that conspiracy was alleged to be in the Staff of His Royal Highness. But the descendant of Henry IV. was not intimidated; he showed that he could trust to the honour of French officers, and victory was the reward of his confidence. Thus were the intrigues of the past defeated; and in like manner will be thwarted the intrigues of the present. All has been intrigue throughout this affair. It has already occupied too much of our attention; and it were to be wished that we should never hear more of it either in the Chamber of Peers or in any other court. I can vote only for the full and complete acquittal of all the accused, and I recommend that the verdict be accompanied by the declaration that our colleagues have forfeited none of our esteem.

ANOTHER FRAGMENT FROM PRINCE TALLEYRAND’S MEMOIRS.

The king insisted that the favourable opinion entertained of the services I had rendered him, required that he should instal me in one of the high offices of the crown. The post of grand ecuyer could not be said to be either vacant or filled, as M. de L—— had not tendered his resignation. The king, who still had a leaning to old usages, thought he could not dispose of the post, though the conduct of M. de L——, since the Restoration, had not been congenial with French feeling, but altogether in unison with Austrian ideas. The office of grand chamberlain seemed to be suited to me, though I had filled it under Bonaparte, who deprived me of it to mark his dissatisfaction at the attentions I showed the Spanish princes at Valençay, and at the manner in which I had expressed myself concerning the war against Spain. I lost my post of grand chamberlain, with a salary of 100,000 francs, because I had rendered some assistance, and offered some little solace, to the princes of Spain, during their sojourn at Valençay; and subsequently, the Restoration took from me the post of vice-chamberlain, with a salary of 333,000 francs. Yet I never expressed the least disquietude respecting my fortune, or any desire to seek the means of enlarging my income.

The king restored me to the post of grand chamberlain, with the emolument of 100,000 francs. This post, owing to the pretensions of the gentlemen of the bedchamber, had become a mere sinecure. It conferred rank, dignity, and emolument, without requiring the performance of any duties. The gentlemen of the bedchamber had returned to their places, with all their old pretensions; vanity prompted them to encroach on the highest and most honourable services, whilst courtly meanness made them ready to perform the most annoying and undignified duties. In the circumstances in which I was placed, I felt that my proper course of conduct was to avoid all expression of disapprobation towards the ministers who had succeeded me, and to take no part in the numerous reproaches vented on their administration. My old-fashioned notions of decorum suggested to me the delicacy due from the ministers who had gone out of office, to the ministers who had come in; and I determined to confine myself completely within the sphere of my post of grand chamberlain. Accordingly, I presented myself to the king once a week: the rest of my time I spent among my old books, and in narrating the events I have witnessed in my life-time, or in which I have taken part. I never spoke in the Chamber of Peers, because I wished to avoid alike the expression of censure or approval. I rarely voted; and, in short, I endeavoured, as much as possible, to maintain the character of indifference;—a most essential qualification in a grand chamberlain. I imagined that, in observing this line of conduct towards my successors, I should secure, on their part, respect, or, at all events, their silence in reference to the administration of my colleagues and myself. I was, consequently, not a little astonished, when I found, in the journals under the control of their censorship, that all the mean adulation lavished on the existing ministers, was accompanied by comparisons prejudicial to the ministers who had preceded them. Certain comments on the treaty I had refused to sign, and to which they had affixed their signature, appeared to me at once exceedingly unfair and maladroit; for future generations will not fail to compare the truly French feeling of the men who quitted office because they would not sign, and the pliant principles of the men who signed, in order to keep office. The fact is, that the interests of France were completely disregarded in this matter. The Allies took advantage of the inexperience of the Duke de Richelieu’s administration; and that circumstance cost France the loss of some portion of her territory, at the same time entailing so many other sacrifices, that I have sometimes reproached myself for my resignation at that particular juncture. Certainly, had I been in office, France would not have been subject to the humiliations she has suffered, and which no power should have presumed to inflict on her. It is for me alone to reproach myself. In the estimation of others, I stand in that position in which it was more noble to have resigned office, because I would not sign, than to have signed for the sake of keeping my place. After all, there is some grace in knowing when to resign. The position in which I stood ought not to have exposed me to the insults of journalists. Silence would have been more becoming; but it is difficult for people of mean spirit to restrain themselves by silence. At first I considered these attacks unworthy of notice, and it was only by their daily renewal that I was enabled to perceive they were the result of a settled plan. It was only when they were perseveringly forced on my attention, that I found it necessary to adopt means to repress them. Public credulity readily imbibes erroneous impressions. I tried the effect of absence. I went into the country, and remained there for some time; but all in vain! Unpopularity rendered my successors dissatisfied with themselves. It is the nature of man to blame others, and not himself, for his own errors; accordingly, I was still the individual against whom censure was directed. But for my influence, it was alleged, certain things would have been done, and certain measures would have succeeded—a more decided course would have been taken, &c. &c. Little-minded people always assign their failures to causes in which they themselves have no part. I now thought it time to show less forbearance, and I openly avowed, to my friends and others, whom I casually saw, that I did not approve the line of policy adopted by the ministers, nor indeed of any of the means resorted to for establishing the government of the Restoration. The ministerial interference with the elections, (an example which has been followed in latter times, with such disastrous results,) afforded me an opportunity of declaring my sentiments.

The first person to whom I spoke on this subject was Baron Pasquier, with whom I dined one day at the English Ambassador’s. We were each waiting for his carriage, and consequently our conversation was but short. Nevertheless, it would appear that enough passed to afford grounds for misrepresentation, and the king was pleased to think that the best mode of supporting his ministry, was to show his disapproval of me. In a letter, written by the first gentleman of the bedchamber, his majesty forbade my appearing at court, without the royal permission. Thus, in the same _fauteuil_ in which I had twice installed him, did Louis XVIII. sign, without any previous explanation, and on the report of a man whom he scarcely knew, an order prohibiting me from going to the Tuileries.

Whilst I was suffering under this species of disgrace, I had many visitors. The marshals, and other persons to whom I had never rendered any service, came to see me more frequently than those on whom I had conferred obligations. These latter were prudent; they feared lest they might themselves incur courtly disfavour. I have remarked the proneness to this kind of ingratitude at the present day. The false position in which every one has been placed since the Restoration has doubtless helped to create it. That sort of police which society itself exercises, for repressing the wrongs of society, having ceased to exist, the evil passions of human nature show themselves more openly. The emigration has largely contributed to bring about this state of things.

My disgrace did not tend to raise the king in public estimation, either abroad or at home; and his majesty was therefore desirous of bringing the matter to an end. The same Gentleman of the Chamber who wrote the letter forbidding my appearance at court, now wrote to acquaint me that the king would receive me again with pleasure. I went, and, to spare the king embarrassment, I did not attempt to enter into any explanation. I was aware that he would not acknowledge he had been in the wrong, and yet that acknowledgment was the only great and gracious thing he could have uttered.

I felt that what passed between the king and myself entitled me to censure or disapprove measures which appeared to me injurious to France; and I began occasionally to deliver my opinion in the Chamber of Peers on the questions discussed in that assembly. I endeavoured to show that the government would gain strength by taking an honest and constitutional course, and disavowing all falsehood and evasion; that sincerity in the management of public affairs would simplify everything, and consolidate at once the position of the king and of the country. The French people are too shrewd to be imposed on for any length of time, and when once they find themselves deceived they are ever afterwards distrustful. In the interval between the sessions I made two excursions into the provinces. The aspect of nature has a wonderful effect on the mind, especially when one has just escaped from the strife and agitation of public affairs. Matters which fret and weary us in the active business of life, dwindle into insignificance in the retirement of the country. On the summit of a mountain we feel alike beyond the reach of towering ambition and grovelling malice. There all the annoying phantoms of life vanish.

At the beginning of winter I returned to Paris. My associations were limited to persons whose opinions coincided with my own, and I took part in no public business except the discussions on the liberty of the press, which were maintained during two or three years successively. I observed the course of events in all parts of Europe, and watched the contest that was maintained between despotism and constitutional government. The first decided outbreaks of this contest were manifested at Naples and at Venice. Speedily the revolution in Spain spread agitation throughout France, and brought to light the work in which the Jesuits had been secretly engaged since the Restoration. The ministry, which was composed of emigrants, or of persons whose minds were tainted with the prejudice and bigotry which the emigration had brought back to France, conferred all government appointments on persons of their own way of thinking, or on those who, from interested motives, affected to coincide in their views. Then followed congress upon congress, intrigue upon intrigue; and the Emperor Alexander showed his feebleness of character by seeking refuge in that Holy Alliance which too plainly demonstrated that sovereigns had interests apart from those of their subjects. I often think of what must be the result of the existing conflict between intelligence and despotism. I reflect on the great change that will be wrought by new compacts between subjects and sovereigns. It is only by this means that social order can be established. We are told that this or that particular country requires more stringent measures of government than others; but all nations have rights, which vary according to the greater or less degree of civilization they may have reached. The recognition of these rights is at once the security of thrones and the guarantee of public freedom. These rights may and can be enforced without popular convulsions; but, in proportion as the rights of mankind are disavowed or withheld, the more violent will be the struggles to recover them, and in the end these struggles will prove triumphant. This is my opinion, and it will remain unaltered to the latest day of my life.

LETTER TO HIS MAJESTY KING WILLIAM IV., FROM PRINCE TALLEYRAND, ON
HIS BEING APPOINTED AMBASSADOR FROM FRANCE.

“SIRE,—His Majesty the King of the French has been pleased to make me the interpreter of the sentiments he cherishes for your Majesty.

“I have joyfully accepted a mission which gives so noble a direction to the last steps of my long public career.

“Sire, amidst all the vicissitudes through which I have passed during my long life—amidst all the changes of good and ill fortune I have undergone during the last forty years, no circumstance has afforded me such perfect gratification as the appointment which brings me back to this happy country. But how great is the change between the period when I was formerly here and the present time! The jealousies and prejudices which so long divided France and England have given place to enlightened sentiments of esteem and affection. Unity of feeling rivets the bonds of amity between the two countries. England, like France, repudiates the principle of intervention in the internal affairs of neighbouring states; and the ambassador of a sovereign unanimously chosen by a great nation, feels himself at home in a land of freedom, as the missionary to a descendant of the illustrious house of Brunswick.

“I feel that I may with confidence implore your Majesty’s kind consideration of the subjects which I am commanded to submit to your attention, and I beg, Sire, to offer the homage of my profound respect.”

OPINION OF PRINCE TALLEYRAND ON THE PLAN OF LAW RELATIVE TO JOURNALS
AND PERIODICAL PUBLICATIONS.

_Delivered in the Chamber of Peers, in the sitting of Tuesday,
July 24, 1821._

“GENTLEMEN,—In presenting myself before this assembly, I experience the embarrassment of feeling the utter inutility of the observations I am about to make, but to which, nevertheless, I consider it my duty to give utterance. By a deplorable fatality, the causes of which it is not my purpose at present to inquire into, the questions in appearance submitted to our consideration, are already resolved—irrevocably resolved. We discuss, as though our discussions were affairs of some import; whilst, in reality, we are but the instruments of imperious necessity. Laws and budgets are laid before us, and they who would naturally be our opponents in discussing them, are not here; their absence operates as a sort of command upon us. The Chamber of Peers, by the position in which it is placed, will soon degenerate into a Court of Registration, a mere semblance of the constitutional hierarchy. Hence, it follows, that those who absolutely desire to see in France a real Chamber of Peers—that those who regard it as essential to the monarchy—seeing it annihilated for the present, look forward to the future. In their inability to remedy the present evil, they indulge in prophetic warnings, which it is easy to turn into ridicule; or they offer advice which levity despises and weakness rejects.

“I apply, gentlemen, these considerations to the law now submitted to your attention. Is it the work of the Ministry? No; for, on the one hand, it is more limited in its duration than the primitive law, a circumstance of which I am certainly not disposed to complain; and, on the other hand, its restrictions extend to literature, science, and the arts, (heretofore exempt from the coercion of the censorship:) and at these restrictions I am assuredly not disposed to rejoice. Is it certain that these various modifications meet the concurrence of the majority of this Chamber? Possibly they do not; and yet, what can we do? Are we free to amend, in our turn, the amendments of the all-powerful Chamber of Deputies? No, gentlemen; and I say so, not with the view of reflecting blame on the Chamber of Deputies, (which has merely exercised its constitutional privileges in a very constitutional manner,) but to complain that the Chamber of Peers is stripped of all its privileges by tardy presentations, which leave it neither time to deliberate nor power to resist.

“Convinced as I am that the fate of the present law is determined beforehand; that a discussion, however warm, will not influence its rejection, or even tend to modify its effects; I present myself here, less for the purpose of opposing it, than to prevent its reappearance, when it shall have lived through its legal period of existence. I speak for the interest of the future session, and not for the interest of the present one. I do not hope, gentlemen, to convince you now; my object is to pave the way for a more free and more profound discussion at a future time.

“The liberty of the press, applied to politics, is, as has already been stated, neither more nor less than the liberty of the journals.

“We are all desirous to enjoy the blessings of representative government; it is the government which the king has granted to us.

“Representative government cannot exist without the liberty of the press, which is one of its essential instruments; indeed, its principal instrument. Every government has its own machinery; and it must always be borne in mind that institutions which are salutary to one government, may be injurious to another. It has been proved to demonstration by several members of this Chamber, who, during the present and preceding sessions, have spoken on the subject now under consideration, that, without the liberty of the press, there can be no representative government. I will not, therefore, weary you by repeating that which you must all have heard or read, and which must frequently have been the subject of your own meditations.

“But there are two points of view in which it appears to me that the question has not been adequately considered, and which I will reduce to the two following propositions—

“I. The liberty of the press is a necessity of the age.

“II. A government endangers its stability when it obstinately refuses to grant that which the age proclaims to be necessary.

“The human mind is never completely stationary. The discovery of yesterday is but the medium for arriving at a new discovery to-morrow. Nevertheless it is true that human intelligence would seem to advance by crises; there are periods when that intelligence is urged forward by the desire of creating and producing; and there are times when, satisfied with its acquisitions, it appears to repose within itself, and to be occupied in arranging and setting in order the riches it possesses, rather than in earning new wealth. The seventeenth century was one of these fortunate epochs. The human mind, amazed at the vast treasures of which it had become possessed through the invention of printing, seemed to stop short in its onward movement, as if eager to rest in the enjoyment of its magnificent heritage. Revelling in the luxuries of literature, science, and the arts, it set its glory on the production of master-pieces. The great men of the age of Louis XIV. vied one with another in embellishing a state of society, beyond which they could see nothing or wish for nothing, and which seemed destined to endure as long as the glory of the great king who engrossed all their respect and enthusiasm. But the fertile mine of antiquity being exhausted, the activity of the human mind was turned, as it were by force, into another channel, and it found novelty in those speculative studies which embrace the whole future, and whose limits are indefinable. Such were the circumstances which ushered in the commencement of the eighteenth century, destined to prove so dissimilar to the century that had preceded it. The poetic lessons of Telemachus were succeeded by the theories of the Esprit des Lois; and the Port-Royal was superseded by the Encyclopedia.

“I beg you to observe, gentlemen, that I am neither concurring nor approving, but merely narrating.

“On looking back to the disasters which befel France during the Revolution, we should guard against being wholly unjust to those master spirits whose writings gave the first impulse to that great event. We must not forget that if those writers did not always steer clear of error, yet that we owe to them the revelation of many great truths. We must bear in mind that those men are in no way responsible for the inconsiderate precipitancy with which France, almost unanimously, rushed into the career which they had merely traced out in perspective. Views which had been only theoretically developed were suddenly carried into practical effect; and the result has shown the awful consequences which ensue when man, prompted by insane self-confidence, ventures to go beyond the necessities of the age—the gulf of misfortune then yawns before him. But in merely working such changes as are dictated by the wants of the age, we are certain not to diverge very far from the right course.

“Now, gentlemen, let us see what were the real necessities of the age in the year 1789. The changes which were suggested by the mature reflection of enlightened men may be fairly regarded as necessities. The Constituent Assembly was merely the interpreter of those necessities when it proclaimed the liberty of religious worship, equality in the eye of the law, the free right of jurisdiction, (every one being amenable to his natural judges,) and the liberty of the press.

“But the Constituent Assembly was not in accordance with the spirit of the age when it instituted a single Chamber; when it destroyed the royal sanction; when it tortured consciences, &c. Yet, notwithstanding the errors of that Assembly, (errors of which I have named only a few, and which were followed by great calamities,) it will enjoy, in the judgment of posterity, the glory of having established the bases of our new public law. The august author of the charter—the monarch who is worthy of France, as France is worthy of him—has consecrated in his noble work the only great principles furnished by the Constituent Assembly.

“Let us take it for granted that laws which are wished for—which are proclaimed to be good and salutary by the most enlightened men of a country, and which have been so proclaimed during a series of years—are necessities of the age. One of these laws, gentlemen, is the liberty of the press. I appeal to all those among you who are most especially my contemporaries—was not the liberty of the press an object ardently desired by all those excellent men whom we have admired in our youth—the Malesherbes, the d’Estignys, and the Trudaines?—who, to say the least, were not inferior to any of the statesmen who have flourished since their time. The place which the men I have just named occupy in our recollections, sufficiently proves that the liberty of the press consolidates legitimate renown, and if it ruins usurped reputations, where is the evil?

“If I have said enough to prove that the liberty of the press is, in France, the necessary result of the present state of society, it now only remains for me to establish my second proposition—viz., that a government endangers its stability when it obstinately refuses to grant that which the age proclaims to be a necessity.

“In the most tranquil and happy conditions of society there is always a certain number of men who aspire to gain, by the help of disorder, the wealth which they possess not, and the importance which they ought not to possess. Is it wise to place in the hands of these enemies of social order, weapons of discontent, without which their perversity would ever remain powerless? Why give them the privilege of continually claiming the fulfilment of a promise? They will but abuse that privilege, and in this instance they are not, as in some others, seeking merely a chimerical good.

“Society, in its progressive advance, is destined to feel new necessities. I readily admit that governments ought not rashly to acknowledge them or to convert them into laws. But when these necessities have once been acknowledged, to take back what has been granted, or (which amounts to the same thing) to withhold that which has been granted, or to suspend it unceasingly, is a dangerous course, of which I earnestly hope those who have put it in practice may not have reason to repent. A government should never compromise its own good faith. In the present age, it is not easy to carry on deception for any lengthened period of time. There is a power whose wisdom is superior to that of Voltaire, whose intelligence is greater than that of Bonaparte—a power, in short, superior to the directors or to any of the ministers, past, present, or to come—that power is the great mass of mankind. To engage, or at least to persist, in a conflict on any question on which the majority of the world conceive their interests to be at stake, is an error, and all political errors are dangerous.

“When the freedom of the press exists, when people know that their interests will be defended, they trust that time will render them justice, however tardily that justice may come. They rely on hope, and with reason, for even hope cannot be long deceived. But when the liberty of the press is restricted, when no complaint is permitted to be heard, discontent forces a government either into too much weakness or too much severity.

“But these reflections are carrying me too far, and I must conclude. For the interest of the King and of France, I demand a repressive law, and I vote against the censorship.”

OPINION OF THE BISHOP OF AUTUN ON THE SUBJECT OF ECCLESIASTICAL
PROPERTY, DELIVERED IN THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY IN THE YEAR 1789.

[The following extracts comprise the principal points of this address.]

“I have stated, gentlemen, the reasons which lead me to believe that ecclesiastical property is national property. If those reasons, which nothing has for an instant shaken in my own mind, appear to you of some weight in themselves, how much more weighty, how much more decisive must they not appear under all the circumstances of the present juncture? Let us only look around us; the public fortune is tottering—its approaching fall threatens all other fortunes, and in this universal disaster who would have greater cause to fear than the clergy? Invidious comparisons have long been made between the public indigence and the private opulence of many among us; let us silence in one moment these unpleasant murmurs, so offensive to our patriotism. Let us deliver up to the nation both our persons and our fortunes;—the nation will never forget the act.

“Let us not say that the clergy, merely from being no longer landed proprietors, will on that account become less worthy of public consideration. No! the clergy will not be the less revered by the people from their being paid by the nation; for the heads of offices, ministers, and even kings themselves, receive salaries without being the less honoured on that account. No! the clergy will not become odious to the people, for it is not from the individual hands of the citizens that the minister of religion will seek his tribute, but from the public treasury, like all the other mandatories of the government. Do we not constantly see the people consenting to forget that the functionaries of the state are in their pay, and uniting with their generous tributes the personal homage of respect for men whose duties are often opposed to their passions, and sometimes even to their interests? Who shall persuade us to believe that the French people, whose sense of justice is greater than their calumniators would lead us to suppose, would withdraw their grateful esteem from those who ought not, who will not, who cannot inspire them with any but virtuous sentiments; who would pour into their bosoms the consolations of charity, and discharge towards them at all times the most paternal duties?

“Say not that the cause of religion is bound up with this question;—say rather, what we all know, say that the greatest act of religion which would redound to our own honour, would be to hasten the arrival of that period when a better order of things will sweep away the abuses of corruption, and will prevent the occurrence of that multitude of open crimes and secret offences which are the fruits of great public calamities. Say that the noblest homage that can be paid to religion, is to contribute to the formation of a state of social order which should foster and protect the virtues religion ordains and rewards, and which, in the perfection of society, should constantly remind men of the benefactor of nature. The people, brought back to religion by the feeling of their own happiness, will remember, not without gratitude, the sacrifices which the ministers of religion will have made for the general good. Everything unites in demanding it. Public opinion everywhere proclaims the law of justice, united to that of necessity. A few moments longer, and we shall lose, in an unequal and degrading struggle, the honour of a generous resignation. Let us meet necessity, and we shall seem not to fear it, or rather, to use a form of expression more worthy of you, we shall in reality not fear it. We should not then be dragged to the altar of the country; we should be bearing to it a voluntary offering. Of what use is it to defer the moment? What troubles, what misfortunes might not have been prevented, if the sacrifices consummated here for three months past had been made in proper time a gift of patriotism? Let us show that we wish to be citizens, and citizens only, and that we really desire to join in the national unity which France so ardently longs for. Finally, in ceasing to form a body which is a constant object of envy, the clergy will become an assemblage of citizens, and objects of national gratitude.

“In conclusion, then, I would recommend that the principle involving the proprietorship of the ecclesiastical revenues should be at once determined; and, to avoid all appearance of equivocation, I would recommend it should be decreed by the National Assembly that the nation is the real proprietor, and can dispose of them for the public good. The nation must at the same time pledge itself to preserve for each incumbent that which really belongs to him, and to provide for the due settlement (in such manner as may be deemed most fitting) of the real obligations with which those properties are burthened.”

EXTRACTS FROM THE SPEECH OF THE BISHOP OF AUTUN, ON THE OCCASION OF
HIS MOTION ON THE SUBJECT OF ECCLESIASTICAL REFORM, ON THE 10TH OF
OCTOBER, 1789.

“THE state has for a long time had to struggle with the greatest difficulties: none of us are ignorant of this fact, and therefore powerful means must be employed to meet them. Ordinary measures have been exhausted; the people are hard-pressed on every side, and the slightest additional burden would naturally be felt insupportable. In fact, it is not to be thought of. Extraordinary resources have just been tried, but they are principally destined for the extraordinary necessities of the present year. We want provision for the future—we want provision for the entire restoration of order. There exists one immense and decided resource, and one which in my opinion (for otherwise I should repel the idea) may be combined with a rigid respect for property. This resource appears to me to lie entirely in the ecclesiastical revenues.

* * * * *

“I do not mean a contribution towards maintaining the burthens of the state proportional to that arising from other kinds of property; this could never be viewed in the light of a sacrifice. The operation I point at is one of far greater importance to the nation.

* * * * *

“It appears evident to me that the clergy are not in the position of other landed proprietors, because the property they enjoy (and which they cannot dispose of) has been given, not for personal interest, but for the performance of certain duties.

“It would also appear that the nation, in virtue of the extensive powers it possesses over all the bodies contained within it, has a right to destroy, if not the whole, at all events, portions of the ecclesiastical body, if they are considered hurtful, or even useless, and that this right over their existence necessarily carries with it an extensive right over the disposal of its property.

“It is moreover certain that the nation, precisely because it is the protector of the wishes of the founders, can, and even ought to suppress those livings which have become sinecures.

“Thus far there is no difficulty; but the question is, Can the nation also reduce the revenue of the actual incumbents, and dispose of a portion of that revenue? There appears to me one very simple answer to the arguments of those who deny this right.

“However inviolable may be the possession of a property which is guaranteed by law, it is clear that the law cannot change the nature of the property by guaranteeing it; and that, in the case of ecclesiastical property, it can only ensure to each actual incumbent the enjoyment of what has really been granted to him by the act of his foundation. Now, it is well known that all the foundation-titles of ecclesiastical property, as well as the various laws of the church explanatory of the sense and the spirit of those titles, show that only that portion of the property which is necessary for the decent maintenance of the incumbent really belongs to him—that he is merely the administrator of the remainder, which remainder is really destined for the relief of the poor, or the repair of the temples of God. If, then, the nation carefully ensures to each incumbent (whatever may be the nature of his living) that respectable maintenance, it will not be encroaching upon his individual property. If, at the same time, it takes upon itself, as it has the undoubted right to do, the administration of the rest; if it undertakes the other obligations attached to these properties, such as the maintenance of hospitals and charitable institutions, the repairs of churches, the expenses of public education, &c.; if, above all, these resources are drawn upon only at the moment of a general calamity, it appears to me that all the intentions of the founders will be fulfilled, and full justice will have been rigidly accomplished.

“Thus, in brief recapitulation, I would state my belief, that the nation may, without injustice, in a period of general distress, 1st, dispose of the properties of the different religious communities which it may be desirable to suppress, ensuring, at the same time, means of subsistence to the incumbents; 2ndly, turn to immediate account (always carrying out the general spirit of the founders) the revenues of all the sinecure livings which may be vacant, and secure those of all similar livings as they become vacant; and 3rdly, reduce, according to a certain proportion, the present revenues of the incumbents, whenever they shall exceed a certain given sum, the nation taking upon itself a portion of the obligations with which those properties were originally charged.”

* * * * *

EXTRACTS FROM THE ADDRESS OF THE BISHOP OF AUTUN ON THE SUBJECT OF
BANKS, AND ON THE RE-ESTABLISHMENT OF ORDER IN THE FRENCH FINANCES.

_Delivered in the National Assembly, on Friday, Dec. 4th, 1789._

“As a member of the committee whose report you have just heard, I consider myself entitled to address you, both for the purpose of submitting to you some ideas of my own on the subject of the _caisse d’escompte_, and more especially with the view of bringing to bear upon this subject some important questions, inseparable from it, and essentially connected with the great interests which now so urgently engage your attention.

“The idea of the establishment of a national bank in France, is one which has excited great attention, and which has gained great favour in public opinion.