But if Talleyrand chose the comfortable valleys instead of scaling the arduous heights of great personal or political virtue, he had, none the less, distinct graces of character. Few men of recent times have been so heavily and so successfully calumniated. He was not licentious, nor corrupt, nor vindictive, nor treacherous, nor devoid of idealism. He was humane, generous, affectionate, a sincere patriot, a lover of justice and peace. He sought a comfortable existence, but he desired to avoid inflicting pain or discomfort on others. He was sensitive of the honour of France, proud of her greatness, happy in serving her with distinction. He was a kind master, a genial and liberal friend, a lover of domestic peace and harmony. He sought throughout his career to disarm violence, prevent bloodshed, resist oppression, and help on the reign of good taste, good sense and good feeling.

His political career is to-day free from ambiguity. He was a Churchman by accident and the fault of others. He did right in abandoning the Church. Some of his Catholic royal critics in 1815 declared that the mistake of his life was not to have clung to the Church, and enjoyed his wine and his mistress in the tranquility and comfort of the cardinalate. He was not low enough in character for that. He behaved towards the Church he had left with a moderation and absence of passion that is rare in the embittered and calumniated apostate. Not a single change in his later political career can be seriously challenged. In later years he said, in varying phraseology, that he had never conspired except with the whole of France, and had never deserted a cause until it had deserted itself or common sense. He had no belief in the divine right of either kings or mobs; and no ruler he met had charm enough or real greatness enough to win from him a personal allegiance. With his last breath (and in his will) he spoke tenderly of Napoleon, and commended the ex-Emperor’s family to his heirs. He served France more in deserting Louis XVI than those who remained faithful; and his successive desertion of the Directors, Napoleon, and Charles X needs no defence. The only rational ground of censure is that he kept so entirely together his personal interest and the high cause of France and humanity that he served through all these vicissitudes of his country. This will withhold from him for ever the title of self-forgetting greatness, the nobler enthusiasm, which we so fitly reverence, of losing sight of self at times in an exalted cause. He made his choice, and he will abide by it.

THE END

INDEX

FOOTNOTES

[1] The date is variously given as February 2nd or 13th, and even March. The first seems to be correct. Dupanloup speaks of the Prince celebrating his eighty-fourth birthday on that date. But the myth-making faculty has been so busy with the life of Talleyrand that his very birthplace and parentage have been disputed. It will prepare the reader for the wild legends we shall encounter to learn at once that serious French writers have attributed Talleyrand’s lameness to a congenital defect or to an encounter with a savage sow, and that serious American writers (Bookman, September 26, 1901) have asked us to consider gravely a story of his having been born at Mount Desert, Maine, the illegitimate son of an American fisher-girl and a French naval officer.

[2] Mr. Holland Rose (Life of Napoleon) is entirely wrong in speaking of his “resentment against his parents.”