George IV
The Duc Decazes
The Duc de Berry
Frederica Queen of Hanover
The Duc de Richelieu
The Marquess of Londonderry
Madame Récamier
Pope Leo XII

THE

MEMOIRS OF CHATEAUBRIAND

VOLUME IV

BOOK VII[1]

Changes in the world–The years 1815 and 1816–I am made a peer of
France–My first appearance in the tribune–Various speeches–The
_Monarchie selon la Charte_–Louis XVIII.–M. Decazes–I am struck
off the list of ministers of State–I sell my books and my Valley–My
speeches continued, in 1817 and 1818–The Piet meetings–The
_Conservateur_–Concerning the morality of material interests and that
of duty–The year 1820–Death of the Duc de Berry–Birth of the Duc de
Bordeaux–The market-women of Bordeaux–I cause M. de Villèle and M.
de Corbière to take office for the first time–My letter to the Duc
de Richelieu–Note from the Duc de Richelieu and my reply–Notes from
M. de Polignac–Letters from M. de Montmorency and M. Pasquier–I am
appointed Ambassador to Berlin–I leave for that embassy.

To fall back from Bonaparte and the Empire to that which followed them
is to fall from reality into nothingness, from the summit of a mountain
into a gulf. Did not everything finish with Napoleon? Ought I to have
spoken of anything else? What person can possess any interest beside
him? Of whom and of what can there be any question after such a man?
Dante alone had the right to associate himself with the great poets
whom he meets in the regions of another life. How can one speak of
Louis XVIII. in the stead of the Emperor? I blush when I think that, at
the present moment, I have to cant about a crowd of petty creatures, of
whom I myself am one, dubious and nocturnal beings that we were on a
stage from which the great sun had disappeared.

The Bonapartists themselves had shrivelled up. Their members had become
bent and shrunk; the soul was lacking to the new universe so soon as
Bonaparte withdrew his breath; objects faded from view from the moment
when they were no longer illuminated by the light which had given them
colour and relief. At the commencement of these Memoirs, I had only
myself to speak of: well, there is always a sort of paramountcy in
man’s individual solitude. Later, I was surrounded by miracles: those
miracles kept up my voice; but at this present moment there is no more
conquest of Egypt, no more Battles of Marengo, Austerlitz and Jena, no
more retreat from Russia, no more invasion of France, capture of Paris,
return from Elba, Battle of Waterloo, funeral at St. Helena: what
remains? Portraits to which only the genius of Molière could lend the
gravity of comedy!

While expressing myself upon our worthlessness, I taxed my conscience
home: I asked myself whether I did not purposely incorporate myself
with the nullity of these times, in order to acquire the right to
condemn the others, persuaded though I were _in petto_ that my name
would be read in the midst of all these obliterations. No, I am
convinced that we shall all fade out: first, because we have not in
us the wherewithal to live; secondly, because the age in which we are
commencing or ending our days has itself not the wherewithal to make
us live. Generations mutilated, exhausted, disdainful, faithless,
consecrated to the annihilation which they love, are unable to bestow
immortality; they have no power to create a renown; if you were to nail
your ear to their mouth, you would hear nothing: no sound issues from
the heart of the dead.

One thing strikes me, however: the little world to which I am now
coming was superior to the world which succeeded it in 1830; we were
giants in comparison with the society of maggots that has engendered
itself.

The Restoration offers at least one point in which we can find
importance: after the dignity of one man, that man having passed, there
was born again the dignity of mankind. If despotism has been replaced
by liberty, if we understand anything of independence, if we have lost
the habit of grovelling, if the rights of human nature are no longer
disregarded, we owe these things to the Restoration. Wherefore also I
threw myself into the fray in order, as far as I could, to revive the
species when the individual had come to an end.

Come, let us pursue our task! Let us descend, with a groan, to myself
and my colleagues. You have seen me amid my dreams; you are about to
see me in my realities: if the interest decreases, if I fall, reader,
be just, make allowance for my subject!

[Sidenote: I am made a peer of France.]

After the second return of the King and the final disappearance of
Bonaparte, the Ministry being in the hands of M. le Duc d’Otrante and
M. le Prince de Talleyrand, I was appointed president of the electoral
college of the Department of the Loiret. The elections of 1815 gave
the King the _Chambre introuvable._[2] I was carrying all the votes
at Orleans, when I received the Order which called me to the House
of Peers[3]. My active career had hardly commenced, when it suddenly
changed its course: what would it have been if I had been sent to the
Elective Chamber? It is fairly probable that that career would, in
the event of my success, have ended in the Ministry of the Interior,
instead of taking me to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. My habits and
manners were more in touch with the peerage, and, although the latter
became hostile to me from the first moment, by reason of my Liberal
opinions, it is nevertheless certain that my doctrines concerning the
liberty of the press and against the vassalage to foreigners gave the
Noble Chamber the popularity which it enjoyed so long as it suffered my
opinions.

I received, at my entrance, the only honour which my colleagues ever
did me during my fifteen years’ residence in their midst: I was
appointed one of the four secretaries for the session of 1816. Lord
Byron met with no more favour when he appeared in the House of Lords,
and he left it for good: I ought to have returned to my deserts.