lpation, and to vindicate (vain task!) the memory of
Talleyrand from the reproach of ingratitude; but it is abundantly
evident, even from the narrative itself, that if not one of the most
_active_, he was, at least, one of the most _zealous_, promoters of the
Revolution of 1830. There was little sympathy between Charles and
Talleyrand, though he preferred him much to his brother Louis. He even
admitted--which, for him, was going far--that Charles was distinguished
in private life by many excellent qualities; that he had "a feeling and
a generous nature, and was a faithful and grateful friend;" but for
many, and some of them obvious enough reasons, he disliked "the devout
monarch," and we are told that Charles "returned tenfold in hatred and
suspicion all the pity and contempt which the wily diplomatist sought to
cast upon his government." The conclusion is, of course, plain.
Talleyrand saw that every thing was going wrong, as did every body else
after the event. He, therefore, withdrew from Paris in the winter of
1829--30; and, under the pretense of consulting his health, retired to
Rochecotte, in Touraine, the seat of his niece, the Duchess de Dino. He
had no political object in view, and was only driven "by the force of
circumstances," into that vortex which was whirling _tout le monde_ in
the capital round about; but, somehow or other, the leaders of the
movement gathered around him in his retreat, and, unfortunately for the
theory of neutrality, it is stated that "it was at Rochecotte, during
the month of May, which Thiers spent there with M. de Talleyrand, that
he (_i.e_., Thiers) conceived the plan of those terrific articles in the
_National_, which, every morning, like the battering-rams of ancient
warfare, laid in ruins the wretched bulwarks, behind which the tottering
monarchy thought itself secure." (P. 32.)

All this was, no doubt, purely accidental; and, as the editor of the
_National_ was a person of no social consideration whatever, it would be
absurd to suppose that the Prince of Benevento had any secondary purpose
to achieve by patronizing so obscure an adventurer. It turns out,
indeed, that "M. Thiers was, in the eyes of M. Talleyrand, nothing more
than a young writer, full of vigor and talent, whom the old seigneur
loved to protect, and to initiate into the manners and customs of good
society, without a knowledge of which (he would often say) there can be
no good taste in literature. But he was the last