clung to him. His sole popularity was derived
from the disgust inspired by his grandfather.
He occasionally had the esteem of his people, but
never their favour. Upright and well-informed,
he called to him sterling honesty and clear intelligence
in the person of Turgot. But with the philosophic
sentiment of the necessity of reforms, the prince
had not the feeling of a reformer; he had neither
the genius nor the boldness; nor had his ministers
more than himself. They raised all questions
without settling any, accumulated storms, without
giving them any impulse, and the tempests were doomed
to be eventually directed against themselves.
From M. de Maurepas to M. Turgot, from M. Turgot to
M. de Calonne, from M. de Calonne to M. Necker, from
M. Necker to M. de Malesherbes, he floated from an
honest man to an
intriguant, from a philosopher
to a banker, whilst the spirit of system and charlatanism
ill supplied the spirit of government. God, who
had given many men of notoriety during this reign,
had refused it a statesman; all was promise and deception.
The court clamoured, impatience seized on the nation,
and violent convulsions followed. The Assembly
of Notables, States General, National Assembly, had
all burst in the hands of royalty; a revolution emanated
from his good intentions more fierce and more irritable
than if it had been the consequence of his vices.
At the time when the king had this revolution before
him in the National Assembly, he had not in his councils
one man, not only capable of resisting but even of
comprehending it. Men really strong prefer in
such moments to be rather the popular ministers of
the nation than the bucklers of the king.
XI.
M. de Montmorin was devoted to the king, but had no
credit with the nation. The ministry had neither
the initiative nor opposition; the initiative was
in the hands of the Jacobins, and the executive power
with the mob. The king, without an organ, without
privilege, without force, had merely the odious responsibility
of anarchy. He was the butt against which all
parties directed the hate or rage of the people.
He had the privilege of every accusation; whilst from
the tribune Mirabeau, Barnave, Petion, Lameth, and
Robespierre, eloquently threatened the throne; infamous
pamphlets, factious journals painted the king in the
colours of a tyrant who was brutalised by wine, who
lent himself to every caprice of an abandoned woman,
and who conspired in the recesses of his palace with
the enemies of the nation. In the sinister feeling
of his coming fall, the stoical virtue of this prince
sufficed for the calming of his conscience, but was
not adequate to his resolutions. On leaving the
council of his ministers, where he loyally accomplished
the constitutional conditions of his character, he
sought, sometimes in the friendship of his devoted
servants, sometimes from the very persons of his enemies,
admitted by stealth to his confidence, the most important