“Again—how often has he been accused of participating in the murder of the Duc d’Enghien: though his whole life disproves the accusation. What single action of his long career can justify this supposition? His aversion to bloodshed—his avoidance of all violent measures—his forgiving temper, which was constitutional—all tend to combat the suspicion; and yet it has been greedily received, not only by his enemies, but even by the writers least interested in the affair—those of foreign nations, strangers to party-spirit in French politics, and who may be supposed to be mere spectators of the struggle. I think M. de Talleyrand owes this unjust and offensive accusation entirely to the reserve he has always maintained with regard to this event. Had he been more explicit, had he ‘_spoken out_,’ in short, upon the subject, his vilest detractors would not have dared to affix this stain upon his name, while the panegyrists of his great contemporary would have hesitated before the _proofs_ which M. de Talleyrand can still produce. Although he even yet mentions with caution all the circumstances connected with this affair, which he himself calls ‘_déplorable_,’ yet I have gathered enough to make the recital interesting to you, and in _tems et lieu_ I will put you in possession of the facts; but as you wish me to proceed _par ordre de date_, they will find no place here. Accusation and defiance are contrary to the whole system of conduct of the prince. His forbearance towards his enemies would sometimes excite the indignation of Mirabeau, whose fiery soul gloried in attack, and scorned defeat, from which he rose with fresh venom and fresh vigour. “‘One thing is needed to complete the character of Talleyrand,’ said the giant, in despair at the mildness of the prince, ‘he needs unjust imprisonment!’ The secret of the whole existence of Mirabeau—of his success—his energy and defiance, may perhaps be found in this simple exclamation. Mirabeau might accuse Talleyrand of coldness and over caution; but it was left for the coarse mind of Napoleon to tax him with baseness and want of self-respect. Now I, who have lived in the intimacy of the prince for many years, and have been in the habit of observing the impression produced upon his temper by outward events, have arrived at the conviction, that it is the very excess of pride, of which Napoleon denied him the slightest portion, that destroys the otherwise perfect equilibrium of his character. I am a believer in the influence of _race_, and can respect the philosophy which tells us that the qualities of the soul are handed down through long generations as well as the features of the body. The proud motto of the sovereign counts of Perigord, adopted in the sixth century, was borne with justice by Charles Maurice de Talleyrand, their descendant: _Ré que Diou!_ In the old Perigord language, ‘NO KING BUT GOD!’