Yesterday I had a letter from M. Royer-Collard, who is in Paris, from which the following is an extract: "Dissolution resounds throughout all correspondence, even in that from the Minister of the Interior. Conditions, however, are laid down: if Don Carlos does not reach Madrid, if the King of Hanover is not overthrown, if the English elections give no cause for terror; these reservations are due to the character and policy of the King, who does not care to run risks, and who spares the Doctrinaires by leaving them some hope. The decision is to come from M. Molé, who would leave them nothing. In neither case is there any consideration as to whether the step in itself is good or bad: 'It will all pass over.' For my part, if I am allowed to express an opinion, it is precisely those cases which are considered capable of postponement that I would never postpone. I do not know what the new Chamber will be like, nor do I expect miracles from it, but I regard the old Chamber as inadequate and entirely incompetent, if any important resolution is required."
I have also a letter from M. Thiers from Florence. He seems to be sad and uneasy about his wife's health; he speaks of her with warm and tender anxiety, and says that this is his only trouble and that he defies politics to disturb his equanimity henceforward. He adds: "I have returned to literature and philosophy; like the classical Bossuet, I enjoy the spectacle of human affairs in monuments and books—that is to say, in the memorials of men of former times. I claim the power of discovering the truth from a mere hint, and as this is the method of historical investigation I believe I have a good knowledge and understanding of the past. This presumption of mine, which harms nobody, neither M. Guizot nor King Louis-Philippe, nor Prince Metternich, would enable me to live very happily and busily if I were spared family cares. I shall therefore do all that I possibly can to remain as I am; I wish to improve, to increase my intellectual and moral powers, and this can be done better in retirement than anywhere else, as one then has time for reflection and study, undisturbed by selfish considerations. If some fine position should appear some day when I have made myself what I can become, well and good; but to spend one's life bandied about between the King and his demands for an appanage and the Chamber with its refusals, to be constantly harassed by the Tuileries and the Palais Bourbon, by people who are never grateful and make you the butt of their grievances without the only recompense for the troubles of position, the power to do good—all this is simply not worth while. I say this with full meaning, and as I am happy enough to see that my feelings are shared by those about me, I shall maintain my point of view; so that this winter you will see me in entire freedom."
Valençay, August 1, 1837.—M. de Vandœuvre came to pay us a visit yesterday. He told us an amusing story of Madame de Boigne, who had been invited to dinner with M. and Madame de Salvandy. When she arrived she found only the lady of the house, who apologised for her husband and said that he could not appear at dinner because he was ill. They sat down without him, but when they went back to the drawing-room they found the young Minister, as he calls himself, carelessly reposing in a long chair, in Turkish slippers and a fine flowered dressing-gown, with a smoking cap embroidered by ladies' hands cocked over one ear. The sharp and prudish face of Madame de Boigne at that moment is said to have been indescribable.
The daughter of the Duchesse de Plaisance has died of typhoid fever at Beyrout, in Syria; her father told me the news. The fate of the unhappy mother, of whom at present I know nothing, causes me grief and anxiety. She was a good friend to me at a time when I had but few friends, and I cannot forget it.
Valençay, August 4, 1837.—I have read the article upon Madame de Krüdener in the Revue des deux Mondes. She was a Courlandaise, and I have seen her at my mother's house, with whom she struck up a small friendship. My mother also thought, and rightly, that it was her duty to take some notice of all her compatriots. Madame de Krüdener was an adventuress by nature, and if she had not been well born she would have been recognised as such long before her final absurdities. From 1814 until her death she lived surrounded by a gang of scoundrels, who followed her about Europe and presented an unpleasant sight which was anything rather than evangelical. They were a strange company of apostles.
People who are easily excited, animated and changeable, ready for anything, attracted in the most opposite directions, are often regarded as hypocrites, simply because they are changeable, and one is always tempted to doubt their sincerity. Such is the case of M. Thiers. I am sure he is very happy as he writes in his villa at Careggi,[ [76] amid recollections of the Medici, and that he is also entirely disgusted with Paris. Ardent and impetuous natures, equally ready for any enterprise, are unfortunately often misjudged by characters more happily balanced. I know something of this from my own experience. We shall undoubtedly see M. Thiers once more in the arena of politics and ambition, but to-day he sincerely believes that he has left it for ever. The advantage of such natures as his, and perhaps as mine, consists in the fact that they are never wholly cast down and are so supple and elastic that they accommodate themselves to the most different situations; but it must be admitted that corresponding inconveniences are involved. Their judgment of things and of people is often too rapid, and their execution is often too quick and too complete; by springing from rock to rock they are always in danger, and sometimes fall; they then descend to an abyss, which is regarded as their proper position by those who have been able to maintain themselves steadily at one height, are by no means sorry to see their overthrow and are disinclined to offer any help. How many times have I seen and experienced this! The worst part of it is not the accusations of folly, but of hypocrisy. There is, however, for these natures one infallible resource, when they have the strength to fall back upon it: they can force themselves to recover their equilibrium and follow the golden mean. It is a long task, which will continue necessarily throughout their lives, but that is the advantage of it, as the end of it can never be determined.
The Duc de Noailles writes to us that his uncle has died within a few hours, with every symptom of cholera. I do not know whether I am wrong, but for me everything is shrouded in a veil of darkness, and I instinctively fear some catastrophe. If only it does not fall upon M. de Talleyrand or upon my children! For myself I trust in the will of God and prepare myself as well as I can. But how many arrears remain to be paid, and how terror-stricken I should be were it not for my full confidence in the Divine mercy!
Valençay, August 5, 1837.—M. de Montrond writes from Paris to M. de Talleyrand that the following story was told of the young Queen Victoria at the house of the Flahauts: The Duchess of Sutherland had kept the Queen waiting; when she arrived the Queen went up to her and said: "My dear Duchess, pray do not let this happen again, for neither you nor I ought to keep any one waiting." Was not that very well said?
Valençay, August 8, 1837.—Yesterday I had a letter from Madame de Lieven, which was begun in England and finished in France in the course of her journey to Paris. She has seen Orloff in London, and thinks that through him she has settled her business so well that she can venture to return to Paris. She tells me some curious things of the young Queen. "Every one has been taken in by her; she has secretly prepared herself for a long time for her destined position. At the present moment she gives her whole heart to Lord Melbourne. Her mother wished her to enter into obligations with the Radicals, and also with Conroy personally. It seems that Conroy, who dominates the mother, had behaved very rudely to her daughter, and even threatened her with confinement three days before her accession if she did not promise him a peerage and the post held by Sir Herbert Taylor. She gave him a pension of three thousand pounds and forbade him the palace. The mother only comes to see her daughter when she is sent for. The Duchess of Kent complains bitterly, and is obviously overcome by vexation; and Caradoc, who had miscalculated his possibilities in that quarter, has shared in this disgrace and has left England. The young Queen is full of affection and respect for her uncle, King Leopold, who did not like Conroy; he used to take the girl's part against her mother. Melbourne is all-powerful, and adores his young Sovereign. Her self-possession is incredible. People are quite afraid of her; she keeps every one in order, and I assure you that everything looks very different as compared with the old King's time. The Queen wears every day the Order of the Garter as a medal upon her shoulder, and the motto upon her arm. She has never grown tall, and therefore wears a dress with a train even in the morning; she has a distinguished appearance; her face is charming and her shoulders superb. She issues her orders as a queen; her will must be obeyed at once and without contradiction. All the courtiers seem overwhelmed."
Valençay, August 15, 1837.—I knew Madame de Lieven's taste for planting herself at Paris, but I did not think it went so far as to induce her to monopolise the Russian Embassy, and from every point of view this is a false move; with whatever kindness she may meet in her present position, which is regarded as neutral and without influence, an official position would bring her into inextricable difficulties.