Saturday, 1st of June.—The Emperor sent for me. He had just come out of his bath, where he had remained three hours, and he asked me to guess what book he had been engaged in reading whilst in the water; it was Rousseau’s New Eloise. He had expressed himself quite charmed with this work when he first perused it at the Briars; but in analysing it again, he now criticised it with unsparing severity. The rock of la Meillerie being mentioned, he said he thought it had been destroyed when he caused a road to be made over the Simplon; but I assured him that enough remained to preserve a perfect recollection of it: it projects over the road, and, like Leucate of old, offers a fine leap to despairing lovers.
To the noble character given by Rousseau to Lord Edward in his New Eloise, and to the impression produced by some of Voltaire’s plays, the Emperor ascribed, in a great measure, the high estimate which had been formed in France of the English character. The facility with which public opinion was governed in those days excited his surprise; Voltaire and Rousseau, who had then directed it as they pleased, would not, he thought, be able to do so at the present time; and Voltaire, in particular, had only exercised so powerful an influence over his contemporaries, and been considered the great man of his age, because all around him were pigmies.
The Emperor then proceeded to compare the character of the English and French nations. “The higher classes among the English,” said he, "are proud; with us unfortunately they are only vain; in that consists the great characteristic distinction between the two nations. The mass of the people in France certainly possess a greater share of national feeling than any other now existing in Europe; they have profited by the experience of their twenty-five years’ revolution; but unfortunately that class which the revolution has advanced have not been found equal to the station of life to which they have been elevated; they have shown themselves corrupt and unstable: in the last struggles they have not been distinguished either by talents, firmness, or virtue; in short, they have degraded the honour of the nation."
A speech of M. de Chateaubriand’s has been read to the Emperor, on the propriety of allowing the clergy to inherit. The Emperor observed that it was rather an Academical oration than the opinion of a legislator—it had wit, but showed little judgment, and contained no views whatever.—"Allow the clergy to inherit," said he, “and nobody will die without being obliged to purchase absolution: for, whatever our opinions may be, we none of us know whither we go on leaving this world. Then must we remember our last and final account, and no one can pronounce what his feelings will be at his last hour, nor answer for the strength of his mind at that awful moment. Who can affirm that I shall not die in the arms of a confessor? and that he will not make me acknowledge myself guilty of the evil I shall not have done, and implore forgiveness for it?”—In the present instance, however, as somebody has observed, M. de Chateaubriand may be said to uphold an opinion, rather than express a sentiment of his own; and there are strong grounds for believing that, in religion, as well as in politics, he has often been known to set forth doctrines which had failed to carry conviction to his own mind.
On the article of religion, for instance, it is well known that before he wrote his Beauties of Christianity, he had published in London another work, of a tendency decidedly anti-religious.[[18]] The bookseller to whom he entrusted the sale of this work, was Dulau, formerly a benedictine monk of Soreze, who had sought refuge in London at the time of the revolution. Being a man of intelligent mind and sound judgment, he took the liberty of giving M. de Chateaubriand some good advice. He represented to him that both the place and the time were ill chosen for indulging in declamations against religion; that the moment had gone by when they were favourably received; that they had become common-place and in bad taste; and that the surest way to engage the attention of the public would be to take up the other side of the question, and advocate, on the contrary, the cause of religion. M. de Chateaubriand listened to this advice, and wrote his Beauties of Christianity; and the event proved that Dulau had not been mistaken in his choice of the moment, for it is very doubtful, if the work were to appear now, whether it would obtain the brilliant success it then met with, notwithstanding the great merit which it undoubtedly possesses.
The appointment of the author of The Beauties of Christianity to the embassy of Rome, was considered, at the time, as a very delicate attention on the part of the First Consul[Consul] to M. de Chateaubriand, who, in his turn, hailed it as a first triumph, and the presage of still greater triumphs which awaited him in the capital of the Christian world, amongst the rulers of the church. But he was soon doomed to find himself greatly mistaken, for people at Rome were highly scandalized at seeing religion transformed into romance, and the Divines condemned without hesitation The Beauties of Christianity, which they pronounced to abound in heresies.
However, M. de Chateaubriand, thoroughly convinced of his own merit, consoled himself by affecting to laugh with pity at such puerilities; and, happening to be about this time godfather to a little girl, he gave her the name of Atala; by this name, however, the priest positively refused to christen her, whilst M. de Chateaubriand, in his turn, insisted with all the obstinacy of an author and all the pride of an ambassador. This affair made a noise, and M. de Chateaubriand laid a complaint before the Cardinal-governor; who decided in favour of the priest; and moreover, felt highly offended on the occasion: for M. de Chateaubriand, fancying that his services in the cause of religion had given him a right to assume the tone of one initiated in the secrets of the church, concluded his argument with the Cardinal by saying: “That it was very ridiculous that such obstacles should be thrown in his way; for,” added he, “between ourselves, your Eminence must know that between Atala and any other Saint, there is no great difference.”
The Emperor was highly entertained by these anecdotes, which, he said, were quite new to him, and the person who related them observed that, although he could not vouch for their authenticity, yet he had no doubt of it in his own mind, having heard them from one of the persons who succeeded M. de Chateaubriand at the court of Rome.
In politics M. de Chateaubriand has been alternately seen amongst the adherents and opponents of Napoleon; and the Emperor charges him, when in his service, with malevolence and want of integrity, particularly at the time of his embassy to the old King of Sardinia at Rome.
During the disastrous event of 1814, he made himself conspicuous by writing pamphlets so outrageously violent and virulent, and disgraced by such barefaced calumnies, that they excited feelings of disgust. He no doubt must regret having been the author of them, and would not now degrade his talents by such writings.