he
who did gain him over. On the 31st of March, when the Emperor of Russia
entered Paris, Talleyrand stepped forward to receive him.

"Well," said Alexander, "it seems that France recalls the Bourbons."

These words occasioned M. Talleyrand a profound surprise, which,
however, he was too skilful a diplomatist to betray. From that moment,
he was a convert to what he considered the successful cause. "Thus,"
continues our historian, "this restoration took place contrary to the
will of the people, to whom the Bourbons in 1814 were unknown; contrary
to the sympathies of Alexander, who feared the dangers of a reaction;
contrary, in fine, to the opinion of M. Talleyrand, who had never
thought it possible, and had desired only the regency of _Marie
Louise_!"

What particle of truth there may be in this narrative, we do not stop to
enquire; we refer to it only as an example of the bold union of the two
historic manners. The restoration of the Bourbons was "in the laws of
the development of the middle classes!" It was all owing to the Baron de
Vitrolles, and that lucky little intrigue at Munich!

It is one of the boasts and privileges of history to reverse the
judgment that contemporaries have formed of the character of the actors
in it. This privilege M. Louis Blanc, since he writes history, is
determined at all events to seize upon; and he can boast, perhaps, of
having reversed more judgments of this kind than any other historian,
however voluminous. M. Talleyrand has obtained his reputation for
ability--his moral reputation it would be too commonplace a matter to
attack--by "speaking in monosyllables one half his life, and saying
nothing the other half." M. Guizot is a man "whose talent consists in
concealing, under the solemnity of expression and the pomp of _formulae_,
an extreme poverty of views, and sentiments without grandeur." M. Dupin,
the elder, is "skilful in concealing, under an affectation of rudeness,
the pusillanimity of his heart." Cuvier, whose scientific reputation is
untouched, probably because no motive led him to assail it, is "_homme
plus grand par l'intelligence que par le coeur_." Of Metternich he
writes--"A lover of repose from selfishness, he sought it also from
incapacity. He wished to enjoy a reputation easily usurped, the
falsehood of which the least complication of events would have exposed."
And the picture he gives throughout of Casimir Perier is that of an
"illustrious charlatan," in whom not