Part 5

Since the year 1824, the cause of the Greeks had assumed a degree of consistency and a European character. Every era has its policy of sentiments, and people were now infatuated with a classic fanaticism for the Greeks. No doubt there was something glorious in the heroism which strove to burst the chain of the barbarians; but the enthusiastic declarations of Russia, her strong and pressing despatches in favour of the Greeks, were, in their main object, less the expression of a religious sympathy than the proceedings of a skilful policy, which sought to abase the Ottoman Porte, in order subsequently to reduce it into a state of vassalage. Russia, therefore, applied to Charles X., by speaking of the cross which had brought salvation to the world. In England it roused into action the Greek committee, and it was under the influence of these philanthropic prepossessions that the treaty of July 1827, and the battle of Navarino, which was the consequence of it, led to serious uneasiness on the part of Metternich. This minister instantly divined the full consequences of this shortsighted policy. The battle of Navarino, by crippling the power of the Porte, killed it, in a political sense, for the advantage of Russia: it was the prelude to the campaign of 1828 to the Balkan. Russia had succeeded in getting M. de la Ferronays placed at the head of foreign affairs in France: he was an honest man, but rather Russian in his inclinations and habits; consequently, Metternich could not draw France into a scheme of confederation and armed league against Russia. He was more fortunate in England with the Duke of Wellington, who acknowledged the mistake into which Mr. Canning had fallen, and pronounced the battle of Navarino _an untoward event_. England had thus returned to a perfect understanding of which were her real interests.

People may ask, why did not Metternich at this time decide upon war? how came it that he did not at once take part with the Ottoman Porte? It was in consequence of the fixed system of the Austrian chancellor; he has gained every thing through peace. The conquests of Austria are owing to her pacific principles--to the species of armed neutrality which is always ready at the proper moment to obtain some advantage. A war would have compromised its general position in Europe. Being on good terms with England, and in concert with that nation, the Austrian cabinet stayed the victory; it was gaining something during the Russian expedition of 1829, but it was not enough.

During this time events were advancing in France towards an unavoidable crisis; the ministry of M. de Polignac had just been formed. Under a merely political point of view, this was an advantage for Austria, for the Russian system had been abandoned, and they had entered into all the English ideas concerning the Eastern question; still a mind possessed of so much penetration could not fail to entertain great anxiety while watching so earnest a struggle between the political powers in a country like France, which had been accustomed to give an impulse to the rest of Europe. It is said that Metternich advised a _coup-d'état_: does this idea evince an acquaintance with the spirit of moderation and the capacity of the prime minister of Austria? A _coup-d'état_ is too decided and too noisy a step ever to enter into the mind of Prince Metternich: when a difficult situation occurs, he does not attack it in front--he turns it; and, when he shews himself very determined in a strong and firm resolution, it is because people's minds are already made up, and there is no longer any risk in having recourse to it. The Chancellor of the Empire was too well aware of the folly of M. de Polignac, and of the want of firmness of Charles X., to be ignorant that they were incapable of conducting a perilous undertaking to a prosperous termination. In the Foreign Office there is a despatch on this subject from M. de Rayneval, then ambassador at Vienna, who details one of his conversations with Prince Metternich, precisely upon these _coups-d'état_; it was much the subject of conversation at Vienna, and the uneasiness entertained concerning the system followed by M. de Polignac is revealed in more than one despatch addressed to M. d'Appony, the Austrian ambassador at Paris.

Then broke out the revolution of July, an event of prodigious importance. Europe had never been in so much danger; for what were the ideas that led to the eruption? Was it not the spirit of the secret societies?--republicanism again triumphant in France, the country which, for the last forty years, had been accustomed to give the general impulse to continental Europe? The Propaganda principles had for their leader that old and obstinate spirit, General Lafayette, who again went to make an appeal to the independence of the people, as he had done in 1792. A few Frenchmen, and the tricoloured flag displayed every where, might have caused a general conflagration. What was to be done? A young, ardent, and inexperienced minister would, perhaps, have engaged in a war; what a happiness it was for the friends of peace that Prussia was governed by a wise king, whose mind was rendered moderate by age, and Austria by a minister who had witnessed so many storms without being frightened by them! One of the principal traits of Metternich's character is his perfect freedom from prejudice, either against or in favour of persons or events, so that he forms a judgment of them all with a degree of superiority. He therefore awaited the event of the revolution in a posture of defence; Austria merely held herself in readiness, and military precautions, combined with the renewal of political alliances, enabled her to oppose a barrier to all the invasions of a revolutionary spirit. This moderation was carried so far, that, as soon as a regular government was established in France, Metternich hastened to recognise it, without expressing either dislike or predilection, solely upon the principle that a regular government is always a protection to order and public peace. Since this time, Metternich has appeared to follow three rules of conduct, which govern the whole tenour of his political life. First, to enter into a close alliance with Russia and Austria for the suppression of all disturbances in Europe, and, consequently, to renew all the military contracts entered into at Chaumont in 1814, and Vienna in 1815; secondly, to combat the spirit of Propaganda, under whatever form it may appear; and this was a very laborious task, for the revolution of July had not only dispersed mischievous principles in Europe, but its money, its emissaries, its flag, and its hopes, had been circulated in every direction; and, thirdly, the Propaganda spirit having been every where diffused, Metternich had felt the necessity of augmenting both the military forces of Austria, and also her vigorous police establishment. The executive government has every where become more severe, because it was exposed to more danger. Liberty has sometimes been confounded with a revolutionary spirit in the system of strict repression that has been adopted; and it was unavoidable, perhaps, even necessary, in the complete overthrow of every thing that had been contemplated.

The empire of Austria is composed of so many different nations, that political unity would be as impossible in that empire as in the Russian, which extends over the half of two hemispheres. All that can be looked for is liberty in their local constitutions, and in establishments quite in accordance with the spirit of the States, and more especially with their situation with regard to the Austrian government. The most prejudiced people agree that no country can be more peaceably governed than the hereditary states; the other provinces which have been successively attached to it require more active precautions and a more watchful police; but civil liberty, which is, indeed, the first of all, is even there complete and entire. Let us not exaggerate; I do not propose the Austrian government as a model--I am too great an admirer of liberty and of the institutions of my country not to remain deeply attached to them, but I also give their due to the manners and customs of the people; and we well know that there are some countries that require to be governed, because they are utterly incapable of governing themselves. When travelling in Italy, I have often asked myself whether all these nations, indolently at variance with each other, who possess more genius than national vigour, more liveliness and intelligence than strength and reason, could ever aspire to a laborious liberty under the dominion of the greatly extolled Unity, which must have been obtained sword in hand--in fact, if this rich and lovely Italy, like a charming coquette, was not under the necessity of submitting to the rule of some one, because she has not sufficient energy to master either her love or her hatred.

The administration of Prince Metternich appears to be deeply imbued with this sentiment, which has been severely put to the proof by him, that if civil liberty is necessary to all, political liberty is only desirable for a few, so far as it does not affect the character and the safety of government. Protection should be granted to talent, but it ought to be serious talent, which will not evaporate in pamphlets; improvement, no doubt, is desirable, but it should take place without turbulence. The house of Austria has a great dread of noise, she is afraid of being talked of; never striving after _éclat_ or clamorous liberty, she resembles those German professors who amass a store of erudition and science in some dusty corner of the university, and who only publish a few scarce copies of their works for the use of the learned.

The private life of Prince Metternich has been repeatedly visited with domestic affliction. Mourning has darkened his dwelling, and the distractions of the busy world have not always been able to mitigate his grief. In private society his manners are affable, and he enjoys the repose of home after the fatigues of his vast ministerial duties. A clever writer has observed that he spends great part of his time in conversation; it is a propensity indulged in by men who have seen every thing--they take pleasure in _talking history_ in their fireside conversations, which are carefully preserved by their auditors. And who has not listened with delight to M. Talleyrand, when he used to give vent to his recollections? Prince Metternich has written long and curious memoirs, full of justificatory notes, for he considers himself at the bar of posterity. His work is a great one, and, as I said at the commencement of this sketch, all the glory and all the responsibility of it will rest with him. When we look back upon what Austria was after the peace of Presburg, and that we contemplate her now, greater than she had ever been, with her public credit, her ascendancy among the European states, the peace and the government of her provinces, her civil and military organisation, and then consider that all this is the work of _one_ minister, who has governed the empire for the last thirty years, we may easily form an idea of some of the judgments of posterity. We are ourselves surrounded by ruins, both of men and things; government, administration, ministry, every thing, has fallen to pieces, and when, from the midst of the wreck the revolutions have brought upon us, we turn our eyes upon a countenance which has remained unmoved among all the ravages of time, it appears as if it did not belong to the present period; we look back upon Richelieu, upon those ministers who laid down a system, and then carried it onward to its completion.

Prince Metternich has reached an advanced age, yet he preserves all his faculties perfectly, with a ready wit that is admirable, and a freshness of recollection, which turns with extreme pleasure to the time of the French Empire and his embassy to Paris during the reign of Napoleon. We have all some favourite period of our lives, and we love particularly to dwell upon the days of our youth, before the illusions which charmed us had entirely faded away. He always speaks with great respect of the Emperor Napoleon, whose noble countenance exercised an unspeakable influence over his future life. Wherever that great genius passed, it left an indelible impression; and it was by the desire of Metternich that the remains of the Duke de Reichstadt were placed beside those of Maria Theresa and Francis II. in the vault of the Capuchin Church. It is a fine idea of the emperors of Austria to choose their last abode in the church of the most lowly of religious orders, to humble their greatness before the poorest brethren of the Christian church. The Capuchins have every thing in common, among them there is no property, no distinction between mine and thine. Babœuf was only a plagiary from them without the moral idea of heaven, which purifies and sanctifies every thing.

The house of Austria is accustomed to be governed by old ministers, and its traditionary spirit takes pleasure in it. In politics it is often better to do well than to do a great deal, to act after due deliberation than to act hastily, and then return to deliberate. Prince Metternich is not an enemy to any form of government that has order for its basis; and this offers an explanation of his conduct since the revolution. When the Propaganda was heard every where, he decided strongly in favour of war, and his expression to the French ambassador at Vienna is well known: "If we must perish, it is just as well to die of apoplexy as to be suffocated with a slow fire; we will declare for war."

The wisdom of the French government, its salutary repression of every Propaganda spirit, maintained peace. Since that period the Austrian minister, in all questions of any importance, has preserved the position of an armed mediator, with the invariable desire of preserving peace, and what he terms the European _status quo_. He does not consider the present time requires agitation, war, or conquest. According to him, it is a season of organisation, and, by the position he gives to his monarchy, he holds the balance even, so as to prevent any conflict between the north and south of Europe. He said to me wittily one day: "I am, to a certain degree, the confessor of all the cabinets; I give absolution to those who have committed the fewest sins, and I thus maintain peace in their souls."

In this situation it is easier for Metternich to employ himself in particular improvements. Austria is in a remarkable state of prosperity; we ought to be proud of our France, and it undoubtedly is a fine country, but, with our national pride, we form singular ideas upon the state of other people; and yet, among them also, we may every where observe signs of very forward civilisation, commerce, industry, railroads, with pleasing and kind hospitality, all are to be met with in the Austrian states; without speaking of the intellectual movement more sober, and as far advanced as in our country of little romances, novels, theatrical, and literary critiques.

Men who like to bring circumstances together have sometimes instituted a comparison between Prince Metternich and Prince Kaunitz, who was so long at the head of the Austrian government. Although these parallels are always rather arbitrary, and that the different shades in the human character are innumerable, we may safely affirm in this instance, that there never existed two minds more completely opposed to each other; the only point of resemblance consists in the duration of their administration. Prince Kaunitz, altogether weakened by the ideas of the eighteenth century, allowed the Austrian empire to degenerate into a state of supineness and indolence. Prince Metternich, on the contrary, has reconstructed and consolidated this monarchy; he has retained nothing of Prince Kaunitz's system, except its extreme moderation, and the traditions of _status quo_, adopted after the great reign of Maria Theresa. After Metternich, will Austria follow a different system? Will the statesman that appears likely to succeed him adopt a less prudent and more advanced plan? We do not believe it. It is in Austria with the ministers as with the heirs of the throne in England; before their accession they aim at popularity, and, when once at the head of the government, they continue the proceedings of the former reign, because reason and experience are of some value, and that the magnificent part of Austria is to place itself as an idea of pacification between empires which would strike against each other with too much violence.

M. DE TALLEYRAND.[7]

[7] M. de Talleyrand, who had naturally an inclination in favour of ancient honours, preferred his title of duke of the old monarchy to his principality; for the title of prince, unless in connexion with the Blood Royal, was considered as of foreign extraction, and not to possess any aristocratic importance.

One of the torments of a statesman who has played a great part in politics is to see his conduct subjected to the judgment of ignoble minds and the discussions of people incapable of forming a just estimate of it. How much has been written concerning M. de Talleyrand! how many _bons mots_, and how many rude sayings have been attributed to him! His biography has been made a sort of _Ana_, for the amusement of idle people; he has been represented as a kind of facetious personage, almost a mountebank, abounding in all the little wit of society, and of provincial towns. Few men have pierced through the mysteries of that long existence; still fewer have read in the wrinkles of this old man, and in his eyes, still sparkling under his slightly contracted brows, the secret thoughts, the powerful motives that swayed his life, which was one of unity and system.

If you have ever travelled in the southern part of France, you must have lingered in the Périgord, the province which still comprehends the best and the most numerous nobility of very ancient descent in the whole kingdom. There you will on every side meet with memorials of the Bosons and the Talleyrands, the sovereign princes of the province of Quercy: the keepers of the old records will recount to you the exploits of the Bosons of Périgord, under the Wolf dukes during the Carlovingian dynasty, who received this name from their wild exploits in the forests. The families of Talleyrand and Montesquiou-Fezensac disputed with each other the precedence over all the southern nobility. M. de Talleyrand sprang from the younger branch of the Grignols, who were of the stock of André de Talleyrand, Comte de Grignols, the youngest branch of the Périgord family; the eldest branch became extinct upon the death of Marie Francoise, Princess of Chalais, and Marchioness of Exideuil.[8]

[8] The arms of M. de Talleyrand were, Gules, three lions, or, langued, armed, and crowned azure, prince's coronet on the shield, ducal crown on the mantle. Device, _Re que Diou_ (Nothing but God above us).

I have been particular in dwelling upon the high nobility of his origin, because it greatly assisted his position in diplomatic affairs. Noble birth, however people may declaim against it, facilitates negotiations with European powers. Be it a weakness, be it a habit, when a man takes his place as a titled nobleman, among so many foreigners of illustrious birth, it is an advantage to his position; he treats on a footing of equality, he obtains more because he is among his peers, misfortune does not upset him, because he preserves his name in spite of every thing; he cannot be degraded, for revolutions no more deprive him of the nobility of his race, than the royal confiscations that formerly took place could destroy the old family coat-of-arms.

Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord was born at Paris in the year 1754; his maternal grandmother was the clever and witty Princess des Ursins, that eminent person who directed the councils of Philip V. of Spain, as her friend Madame de Maintenon governed the mind of Louis XIV. M. de Talleyrand, being the youngest of the family, was intended for holy orders, according to the custom of the nobility, who devoted themselves to the profession of arms, to the church, or the manor; an active life was necessary to men of family. There had always been a high prelate of the house of Talleyrand, and this ecclesiastical dignity was intended for the young Abbé of Périgord, who was accordingly sent at the age of fourteen to the seminary of Saint-Sulpice. One ought to have heard Talleyrand himself, in his hours of gaiety and unreserve, recount the pranks and first love-affair of the young abbé; his scaling the walls, his visits to the roof of the house,--all of them things little suitable to the serious profession for which he was intended by his family. I think that in reading his Memoirs in the year 1827-28, at which time he was out of favour, he made some concessions to the little philosophers of the eighteenth century, who surrounded him under the Restoration.

His ecclesiastical studies were limited; he occupied himself but little with theology, but already very much with business. The situation of general agent for the clergy was given him by the custom of his family, which was a very lucrative appointment, for he might be considered as the _chargé d'affaires_ of that great body, and he exhibited great method and remarkable judgment in the skilful application of the revenues of the church, which amounted to above one hundred and thirty-six millions of livres. The clergy met in a chapter every year, and the Abbé de Talleyrand gave an account of their revenues, of the steps he had taken, and the duties he had performed with regard to the court; his reports are remarkably exact, with a clearness of style that is very uncommon.

At the age of five-and-thirty, after having attained the majority required by the Church, he was raised to the bishopric of Autun,--a fine appointment, which would afterwards lead to the archbishopric of Rheims and a cardinal's hat. The revenue of the see amounted to 60,000 francs, a magnificent situation for a young bishop, but such was the custom of the nobility; nevertheless, the bent of his inclinations led him to belong to the philosophical society, and the followers of the English school, which began to appear upon the horizon in 1789; among these were Mirabeau, Cabanis, Lally-Tollendal, and Mounier, in fact all the men who were dreaming of a reform in France. People said wittily that M. de Talleyrand, bishop of Autun, with his prebend and his bishopric, looked upon himself as an abuse. At this time people were animated with a glorious passion for suppressing themselves; and when one recollects that the proposal to abolish the titles of nobility was made by De Montmorency, De Montesquiou, La Rochefoucauld, De Talleyrand, and Clermont-Tonnerre, those illustrious elders of the French nobility, one must honestly confess that an incomprehensible spirit of vertigo had taken possession of the French society. There was in this something so insane, so eccentric, that I imagine the ancient nobility must have been led by an interested motive towards the suppression of titles: during the last three centuries so many patents of nobility had been conferred, that the really illustrious families were no longer distinguished: there were too many titled plebeians. Now, if all titles were abolished by a decree, all this nobility of a modern date would be entirely suppressed, for it depended solely upon royal grants and letters patent written according to the caprice of the sovereign; whilst those who bore a historical name, as the Rochefoucaulds, the Montmorencys, and the Montesquious, had no need of deeds to prove their genealogy; it was part of the soil.