CHAPTER V

The founding of _l'Avenir_--L'Abbé Lacordaire--M. Charles de Montalembert--His article on the sacking of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois--_l'Avenir_ and the new literature--My first interview with M. de Lamennais--Lawsuit against _l'Avenir_--MM. de Montalembert and Lacordaire as schoolmasters--Their trial in the _Cour des pairs_--The capture of Warsaw--Answer of four poets to a word spoken by a statesman

The Revolution of 1830 came as a surprise to M. de Lamennais and his school in the midst of these vague and restless designs. His heart, ready to sympathise with everything that was great and generous, had already been alienated from Royalism; already the man, poet and philosopher, was kicking beneath the priestly robe. The century which had just venerated and extolled his genius, reproached him under its breath for resisting the way of progress. Intractable and headstrong by nature, with a rugged and reclusive intellect, the Abbé de Lamennais was by temperament a free lance. Then 1830 sounded. Sitting upon the ruins of that upheaval, which had just swallowed up one dynasty, and shaken the Church with the same storm and shipwreck in which that dynasty had foundered, the philosophers of La Chesnaie took counsel together; they said among themselves that the opposition against the clergy, with which Liberalism had been animated since 1815, was the result of the prominent protection which had been spread over the Catholic priests, in face of the instability of the Powers, in face of the roaring waves of the Revolution; and they began to question whether it would not be advantageous to the immutable Church to separate herself from all the tottering States. Stated thus, the question was quickly decided. The Abbé de Lamennais thought the time had come for him to throw himself directly and personally into the struggle. The principles of a journal were settled, and he went. Two men entered that career of publicity with him: the Abbé Lacordaire and Comte Charles de Montalembert.

The Abbé Lacordaire was, at the period when I had the honour of finding myself in communication with him on religious and political principles, a young priest who had passed from the Bar at Paris to the Seminary of Saint-Sulpice. After his term of probation, he had spent three harassing years in the study of theology; he left the seminary full of hazy ideas and turbulent instincts. His temper of mind was acrimonious, keen and subtle; he had dark fiery eyes, delicate and mobile features, he was pale with the pallor of the Cenobite and of a sickly complexion, with hard, gaunt, strongly marked outlines,--so much for his face. Attracted by the brilliancy of the Abbé de Lamennais, he fell in with all his political views; he, too, longed for the liberty of the spirit after due control of the flesh; the protection of the State, because of his priesthood, was burdensome to him. He put his hand in his master's and the covenant was sealed.

The Comte de Montalembert, on his side, was, at that time, quite a young man, fair, with a face like a girl's, and pink cheeks, shy and blushing; as he was short-sighted, he looked close at people through his eye-glasses. He appealed strongly to the Abbé de Lamennais, who felt drawn to him with a sort of paternal sympathy. Finally, Comte Charles de Montalembert belonged to a family whose devotion to the cause of the Elder Branch of the Bourbons was well known; but he openly declared that he placed France in his affections before a dynasty, and liberty before a crown.

Round these three men, one already famous and the others still unknown, rallied the ecclesiastics and young people of talent, who, in all simple faith, were desirous of combining the majesty of religious traditions with the nobility of revolutionary ideas. That such an alliance was impossible Time--that great tester of things and men--would prove; but the attempt was none the less noble for all that; it ministered, moreover, to a want which was then permeating the new generations. Already Camille Desmoulins, one of those poets who are specially inspired, had exclaimed to the Revolutionary Tribunal with somewhat penetrative melancholy: "I am the same age, thirty-three years, as the _Sans-culotte_ Jesus!"

The title of the new journal was _l'Avenir._ The programme of its principles was drawn up equally by them all, and it called upon the government of July for absolute liberty for all creeds and all religious communities, for liberty of the press, liberty in education, the radical separation of the Church from the State and, finally, for the abolition of the ecclesiastical budget. It was 16 October 1830, and the moment was a favourable one. Belgium was about to start her revolution, and, in that revolution, the hand of the clergy was visible; Catholic Poland was sending up under the savage treatment of the Czar one long cry of distress and yet of hope; Ireland, by the voice of O'Connell, was moving all nationalities to whom religion was the motive power and a flag of independence; Ireland shook the air with the words CHRIST and LIBERTY! _L'Avenir_ made itself the monitor of the religious movement, combined with the political movement, as may be judged by these few lines which proceeded from the association, and are taken from its first number--

"We have no hidden design whatsoever, we never had; we mean exactly what we say. Hoping, therefore, to be believed in all good faith, we say to those whose ideas differ upon several points of our creed: 'Do you sincerely want religious liberty, liberty in educational matters, in civil and political affairs and liberty of the press, which, do not let us forget, is the guarantee for all types of liberty? You belong to us as we belong to you. Every kind of liberty that the people in the gradual development of their life can uphold is their due, and their progress in civilisation is to be measured by the actual and not the fictitious, progress they make in liberty!'"

It was at this juncture that the transformation tool place of the Abbé DE LA MENNAIS to the Abbé de LAMENNAIS. His opinions and his talents and his name entered upon a new era; he was no more the stern and gloomy priest pronouncing deadly sentence on the human intellect over the tomb of Faith; but a prophet shaking the shrouds of dying nations in the name of liberty, and crying aloud to the dry bones to "Arise!"

Now, among the young editors of _l'Avenir_ it is worth noticing that the most distinguished of them for talent and for the loftiness of his democratic views, was Comte Charles de Montalembert, whose imprudent impetuosity the stern old man was obliged, more than once, to check. Presently, we shall have to relate the story of the sacking of the church of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois and the profanation of the sacred contents. The situation was an embarrassing one for _l'Avenir_: that journal had advised the young clergy to put faith in the Revolution, and here was that self-same Revolution, breaking loose in a moment of anger, throwing mud at the Catholic temples and uprooting the insignia of religion. It was Comte Charles de Montalembert who undertook to be the leader of the morrow. Instead of inveighing against the vandals, he inveighed against the clergy and priests, whose blind and dangerous devotion to the overturned throne had drawn down the anger of the people upon the Christian creed. He had no anathemas strong enough to hurl at "those incorrigible defenders of the ancient régime, and that bastard Catholicism which gave birth to the religion of kings!" The crosses that had been knocked down were those branded with the fleurs-de-lis; he took the opportunity to urge the separation of the Church from the civil authority. Without the fleurs-de-lis, no one--the Comte Charles de Montalembert insisted emphatically--had any quarrel with the Cross.

The objective of _l'Avenir_, then, was both political and literary; it was in sympathy with modern literature, and, in the person of the Abbé de Lamennais, it possessed, besides, one of the leading writers of the day; it was one of those rare papers (_rari nantes_) in which one could follow the human mind under its two aspects. _Liber_, in Latin, may be allowed to mean also _libre_ (free) and _livre_ (book). I have already told how we literary men of the new school had made implacable enemies of all the papers on the side of the political movement. It was all the more strange that the literary revolution had preceded, helped, prepared the way for and heralded the political revolution which was past, and the social revolution which was taking place. For example, we recollect an article upon _Notre Dame de Paris_, wherein, whilst regretting that the author was not more deeply Catholic, Comte Charles de Montalembert praised the style and poetry of Victor Hugo with the enthusiasm of an adept. It was about this time, and several days, I believe, after the representation of _Antony_, that M. de Lamennais expressed the desire that I should be introduced to him. This wish was a great honour for me, and I gratefully acquiesced. A mutual friend took me to the house of the famous founder of _l'Avenir_, who was then living in the rue Jacob--I remember the name of the street, but have forgotten the number of the house. Before that day, I had already joyfully acknowledged an admiration for him which sprang up in my heart and soul fresh, and strong, and unalloyed.

Meanwhile, _l'Avenir_ was successful; this was soon apparent from the anger and hatred launched against its doctrines. Amongst the various advices it gave to the clergy, that of renouncing the emoluments administered by the State, and of simply following Christ in poverty, was not at all relished; and people grew indignant. It was in vain for the solemn voice of the Abbé de Lamennais to exclaim--

"Break these degrading chains! Put away these rags!"

The clergy replied under their breath: "Call them rags if you wish, but they are rags dear to our hearts."

Do my readers desire to know to what degree the journal _l'Avenir_ had its roots buried in what is aristocratically styled Society? Then let us quote the first lines dedicated to the trial of _l'Avenir_ in the _l'Annuaire_ of Lesur--

"Never were the approaches to the Court of Assizes more largely filled with so affluent and influential a crowd, and never certainly were so large a number of _ladies_ attracted to a political trial as in the case of this. Immediately the court opened proceedings, the jurymen, defendants, barristers and the magistrate himself were overwhelmed by a multitude of persons who could not manage to find seats. M. l'Abbé de Lamennais, M. Lacordaire, the editors of _l'Avenir,_ and M. Waille, the responsible manager of the paper, were placed on chairs in the centre of the bar; the two first were clad in frockcoats over their cassocks; M. Waille wore the uniform of the National Guard."

It was one of the first press trials since July. The public prosecutor's speech was very timid, and he apologised for coming, after a revolution carried out in favour of the press, to demand legal penalties against this very press. But _l'Avenir_ had exceeded all limits of propriety. We will quote the incriminating phrase--

"Let us prove that we are Frenchmen by faithfully defending that which no one can snatch from us without violating the law of the land. Let us say to our sovereigns: 'We will obey you in so far as you yourselves obey that law which has made you what you are, without which you are nothing! '"

That was written by M. de Lamennais. We forget the actual phrase, although not the cause, which brought the Abbé Lacordaire to the defendants' bench. M. de Lamennais was defended by Janvier, who has since played a part in politics. Lacordaire defended himself. His speech made a great sensation, and revealed the qualities both of a lawyer and of a preacher. The jury acquitted them.

Some time later, _l'Avenir_ had to submit to the ordeal of another trial in a greater arena and under circumstances which we ought to recall.

MM. de Montalembert and Lacordaire had constituted themselves the champions of liberty in educational matters, as well as of all other liberties, both religious and civil. From words they passed to deeds; and they opened, conjointly, an elementary school which a few poor children attended. The police intervened. Ordered to withdraw, the professors offered resistance, so they were obliged to arrest the "substance of the offence"--namely, the street arabs who filled the school-room. There was hardly sufficient ground for a trial before the _tribunal correctionnel_; but, in the meantime, a few days before the promulgation of the law which suppressed the hereditary rights to the peerage, M. Charles de Montalembert's most excellent father died. The matter then assumed unexpected proportions: Charles de Montalembert, a peer of France by the grace of non-retroactivity, was not amenable to ordinary courts of justice, so the trial was carried before the Court of Peers, where it took the dimensions of a political debate upon the freedom of education. Lacordaire, whose cause could not be disconnected from that of his accomplice, was also transferred to the Supreme Court, and he delivered extempore his own counsel's speech. M. de Montalembert, on the contrary, read a speech in which he attacked the university and M. de Broglie in particular.

"At this point," says the _Moniteur_, in its report of the trial, "the honourable peer of France put up his eye-glass and looked critically at the young orator."

Less fortunate before the Court of Peers than before the jury, which would certainly have acquitted them, the two editors of _l'Avenir_ lost their case; but they won it in the opinion of the country. The Comte de Montalembert owed it to this circumstance, that he sided with M. de Lamennais, whose Liberal doctrines he shared and professed at that time; he was also equally bound by the unexpected death of his father to find a career ready opened for him in the Upper Chamber. But when questioned by the Chamber as to his profession, he replied--"Schoolmaster."

All these trials seemed but to give a handle to M. de Lamennais's religious enemies. Rumours began from below. From the lower clergy, who condemned them, M. de Lamennais and the other editors of _l'Avenir_ appealed to the bishops, who in their turn also condemned them. Then, driven back from one entrenchment after another, like the defenders of a town, who, having vainly defended their advanced positions, and their first and second _enceintes_, are forced to take refuge within the citadel itself, the accused men were obliged to look towards the Vatican, and to put their trust in Rome. The mainmast of this storm-beaten vessel, M. de Lamennais, was the first to be struck by the thunders of denunciation.

On 8 September 1831, a voice rang through the world similar to that of the angel in the Apocalypse, announcing the fall of towns and empires; that voice, as incoherent as a death-rattle or last expiring sigh, formulated itself in these terrible words on 16 September: "Poland has just fallen! Warsaw is taken!" We know how this news was announced to the Chamber of Deputies by General Sébastiani. "Letters I have received from Poland," he said, in the session of 16 September, "inform me that PEACE _reigns in Warsaw."_ There was a slight variation given in the _Moniteur_, which spoke of ORDER, instead of _peace_, reigning in Warsaw. Under the circumstances neither word was better than the other: both were infamous! It is curious to come across again to-day the echo which that great downfall awakened in the soul of poets and believers, those living lyres which great national misfortunes cause to vibrate, and from whom the passing breeze of calamity draws exquisite sounds. Here we have four replies to the optimistic phraseology of the Minister for Foreign Affairs--

BARTHÉLEMY

"_Destinée à périr!_ ... L'oracle avait raison! Faut-il accuser Dieu, le sort, la trahison? Non, tout était prévu, l'oracle était lucide!... Qu'il tombe sur nos fronts, le sceau du fratricide! Noble sœur! Varsovie! elle est morte pour nous; Morte un fusil en main, sans fléchir les genoux; Morte en nous maudissant à son heure dernière; Morte en baignant de pleurs l'aigle de sa bannière, Sans avoir entendu notre cri de pitié, Sans un mot de la France, un adieu d'amitié! Tout ce que l'univers, la planète des crimes, Possédait de grandeur et de vertus sublimes; Tout ce qui fut géant dans notre siècle étroit A disparu! Tout dort dans le sépulcre froid!... Cachons-nous! cachons-nous! nous sommes des infâmes! Rasons nos poils, prenons la quenouille des femmes; Jetons has nos fusils, nos guerriers oripeaux, Nos plumets citadins, nos ceintures de peaux; Le courage à nos cœurs ne vient que par saccades ... Ne parlons plus de gloire et de nos barricades! Que le teint de la honte embrase notre front! Vous voulez voir venir les Russes: ils viendront!..."

BARBIER

"_La Guerre_

"Mère! il était une ville fameuse; Avec le Hun j'ai franchi ses détours; J'ai démoli son enceinte fumeuse; Sous le boulet j'ai fait crouler ses tours! J'ai promené mes chevaux par les rues, Et, sous le fer de leurs rudes sabots, J'ai labouré le corps des femmes nues, Et des enfants couchés dans les ruisseaux!... Hourra! hourra! j'ai courbé la rebelle! J'ai largement lavé mon vieil affront: J'ai vu des morts à hauteur de ma selle! Hourra! j'ai mis les deux pieds sur son front!... Tout est fini, maintenant, et ma lame Pend inutile à côté de mon flanc. Tout a passé par le fer et la flamme; Toute muraille a sa tache de sang! Les maigres chiens aux saillantes échines Dans les ruisseaux n'ont plus rien à lécher; Tout est désert; l'herbe pousse aux ruines.... Ô mort! ô mort! je n'ai rien à faucher!"

"_Le Choléra-Morbus_

"Mère! il était un peuple plein de vie, Un peuple ardent et fou de liberté; Eh bien, soudain, des champs de Moscovie, Je l'ai frappé de mon souffle empesté! Mieux que la balle et les larges mitrailles, Mieux que la flamme et l'implacable faim, J'ai déchiré les mortelles entrailles, J'ai souillé l'air et corrompu le pain!... J'ai tout noirci de mon haleine errante; De mon contact j'ai tout empoisonné; Sur le teton de sa mère expirante, Tout endormi, j'ai pris le nouveau-né! J'ai dévoré, même au sein de la guerre, Des camps entiers de carnage filmants; J'ai frappé l'homme au bruit de son tonnerre; J'ai fait combattre entre eux des ossements!... Partout, partout le noir corbeau becquète; Partout les vers ont des corps à manger; Pas un vivant, et partout un squelette ... Ô mort! ô mort! je n'ai rien à ronger!"

"_La Mort_

"Le sang toujours ne peut rougir la terre; Les chiens toujours ne peuvent pas lécher; Il est un temps où la Peste et la Guerre Ne trouvent plus de vivants à faucher!... Enfants hideux! couchez-vous dans mon ombre, Et sur la pierre étendez vos genoux; Dormez! dormez! sur notre globe sombre, Tristes fléaux! je veillerai pour vous. Dormez! dormez! je prêterai l'oreille Au moindre bruit par le vent apporté; Et, quand, de loin, comme un vol de corneille, S'élèveront des cris de liberté; Quand j'entendrai de pâles multitudes, Des peuples nus, des milliers de proscrits, Jeter à has leurs vieilles servitudes En maudissant leurs tyrans abrutis; Enfants hideux! pour finir votre somme, Comptez sur moi, car j'ai l'œil creux ... Jamais Je ne m'endors, et ma bouche aime l'homme Comme le czar aime les Polonais!"

VICTOR HUGO

"Je hais l'oppression d'une haine profonde; Aussi, lorsque j'entends, dans quelque coin du monde, Sous un ciel inclément, sous un roi meurtrier, Un peuple qu'on égorge appeler et crier; Quand, par les rois chrétiens aux bourreaux turcs livrée, La Grèce, notre mère, agonise éventrée; Quand l'Irlande saignante expire sur sa croix; Quand l'Allemagne aux fers se débat sous dix rois; Quand Lisbonne, jadis belle et toujours en fête, Pend au gibet, les pieds de Miguel sur sa tête; Quand Albani gouverne au pays de Caton; Quand Naples mange et dort; quand, avec son bâton, Sceptre honteux et lourd que la peur divinise, L'Autriche casse l'aile au lion de Venise; Quand Modène étranglé râle sous l'archiduc: Quand Dresde lutte et pleure au lit d'un roi caduc; Quand Madrid sa rendort d'un sommeil léthargique; Quand Vienne tient Milan; quand le lion belgique, Courbé comme le bœuf qui creuse un vil sillon, N'a plus même de dents pour mordre son bâillon; Quand un Cosaque affreux, que la rage transporte, Viole Varsovie échevelée et morte, Et, souillant son linceul, chaste et sacré lambeau Se vautre sur la vierge étendue au tombeau; Alors, oh! je maudis, dans leur cour, dans leur antre, Ces rois dont les chevaux ont du sang jusqu'au ventre. Je sens que le poète est leur juge; je sens Que la muse indignée, avec ses poings puissants, Peut, comme au pilori, les lier sur leur trône, Et leur faire un carcan de leur lâche couronne, Et renvoyer ces rois, qu'on aurait pu bénir, Marqués au front d'un vers que lira l'avenir! Oh! la muse se doit aux peuples sans défense! J'oublie, alors, l'armour, la famille, l'enfance. Et les molles chansons, et le loisir serein, Et j'ajoute à ma lyre une corde d'airain!"

LAMENNAIS

"_The Taking of Warsaw_

"Warsaw has capitulated! The heroic nation of Poland, forsaken by France and repulsed by England, has fallen in the struggle she has gloriously maintained for eight months against the Tartar hordes allied with Prussia. The Muscovite yoke is again about to oppress the people of Jagellon and of Sobieski, and, to aggravate her misfortune, the furious rage of various monsters will, perhaps, detract from the horror which the crime of this fresh onslaught ought to inspire. Let every man protect his own property; leave to the cut-throat, murder and treachery! Let the true sons of Poland protect their glory untarnished, immortal! Leave to the Czar and his allies the curses of everyone who has a human heart, of every man who realises what constitutes a country. To our Ministers their names! There is nothing lower than this. Therefore, generous people, our brothers in faith, and at arms, whilst you were fighting for your lives, we could only aid you with our prayers; and now, when you are lying on the field of battle, all that we can give you is our tears! May they in some degree, at least, comfort you in your great sufferings! Liberty has passed over you like a fleeting shadow, a shadow that has terrified your ancient oppressors: to them it appears as a symbol of justice! After the dark days had passed, you looked heavenwards, and thought you saw more kindly signs there; you said to yourself: 'The time of deliverance approaches; this earth which covers the bones of our ancestors shall yet be our own; we will no longer heed the voice of the stranger dictating his insolent commands to us.... Our altars shall be as free as our fire-sides.' But you have been self-deceived; the time to live has not yet come; it was the time to die for all that was sweet and sacred to men's hearts.... Nation of heroes, people of our affection! rest in peace in the tombs that the crimes and cowardice of others have dug for you; but never forget that hope springs from those tombs; and a cross above them prophesies, 'Thou shalt rise again!'"

Let us admit that a nation is fortunate if it possesses poets; for were there only politicians, posterity would gather very odd notions about it.

In conclusion, the downfall of Poland included with it that of _l'Avenir._ We will explain how this was brought about in the next chapter.