BOOKS.
MIRABEAU.• THE difficulties which interrupt the writing of Mirabean's Life are rather artistic than historical. There is no lack of apposite material, nor are there any haunting mysteries in the career of this man, who lived in the glare of publicity. But there is every temptation to spoil the portrait by prejudice or exaggeration. Mirabean designed his own life with so great a purpose, he demanded so vast a theatre for his performances, that it is not easy, even after a hundred years, to see him in a right relation to his world. Moreover, his double character has confused the superficial observer, who cannot conceive the subtle shades which separate black from white. For truly, Mirabeau was neither white nor black ; devil and angel, he was Catiline tempered by .Gracchus, a heroic mixture of public virtue and private vice, the Wilkes-Chatham of Macaulay's witty phrase. But great as are the difficulties, Mr. Willert has triumphed over -them all, and has given us a portrait which is not the less large in treatment because it is small in scale. Above all, Mr. Willert is not of those historians who overlook positive virtue in their eagerness to condemn a casual vice. In truth, Mirabean's faults were many and obvious ; nor did the states- man himself attempt to conceal them. They were discussed assiduously during his lifetime, and since his death they have -obscured the manifold good he achieved, or might have achieved, had fortune and reputation favoured him. But Mirabean, after all, was eminent for a statesmanship, unique in his time; and it is for this, as well as for his superb, nu- -conscious gift of drama, that Mr. Willert justly esteems him.
When Mirabean, at the age of eight-and-twenty, was im- prisoned at Vincennes, he increased his stature during the -confinement by three inches. And this story gives us the only reasonable clue to his character and temperament. He was abnormal in all things ; he surpassed his fellows in 'energy and unscrupulousness, in repulsion and in charm, in intellect and in folly. A glance at Hondon's bust will reveal the man more vividly than volumes of biography. For although the sculptor angrily repudiated the desire of packing thought into marble or bronze, he could not but display in this mottled face something of Mirabeau's rugged force and vivid mutability. Indeed, he was changeable as the sea, and neither -his father nor his uncle, who watched over his youth with suspicion, could ever make up his mind whether the boy was destined for saint or sinner. His father insisted that he was plastic as sand, and ready to take upon himself any impres- sion whatever, if only it were fleeting. His uncle declared that " if not worse than Nero be will be better than Marcus Aurelius; but all confessed that at five he was the wonder of Paris, and not even his prodigious vices hindered the growth of his fearless intelligence. His father, who shirked the responsibility of education, thought im- prisonment the best of discipline, and the young Mirabeau wandered from one dungeon to another. But the punishment was never irksome, since his amazing geniality converted the harshest gaoler into a devoted slave. So passionate a lover could hardly make a patient husband, and with his marriage the serious troubles of his life began. His love of pleasure and display brought him speedily to bankruptcy, and he had only been married fifteen months when he owed 200,000 livres, had pawned his wife's jewels, and had begun to cut down his ancestral timber. Then came the elopement with Sophie de Moonier, which was expiated by a term of im- prisonment at Vincennes ; and thus Mirabeau undertook to save his country with a heavier weight of indiscretions upon his shoulders than the most upright statesman could sustain.
• Mirabeau. By P. F. Willert. London: Macmillan and Co.
" What could I not have done," said he, "had I come to the States-General with the reputation of Malesherbes." But, alas ! his was not the reputation of Malesherbes, and even the turbulent spirits of the Revolution mistrusted him. Nevertheless, in statesmanship he was always upright. As Romilly said, his ambition was of the noblest kind ; only he was unscrupulous about the means of gratifying this noble ambition. Money was the first necessity of his life; he must live in palaces, and enjoy the splendour of reckless luxury. Wherefore he was compelled to accept payment from the King, or from whomsoever showed an open hand. But he was never bought ; he did no more than let himself be paid; that, says Sainte-Benve, is the distinction ; and it is no wonder that the distinction was too fine for the discernment of con- temporary eyes. The worst is that Mirabeau's imperious necessities rendered his political sagacity of no effect. He was wholly sincere in his devotion to France, and in his aspirations after better government. But few would put their trust in his sincerity. Once his rapacity was satis- fied, he was prepared to show himself a single-minded politician. But he could not conceal the extravagances of his passions, and all the world suspected a tortuous cunning in his moat valiant action. His unsurpassed eloquence should have dominated the Assembly ; his perfect mastery of political truth should have convinced the most obdurate ; his sense of stage effect should have dazzled even his enemies. Bnt he was cast aside for such men as Necker and Lafayette, whom he despised, and it was without a touch of hypocrisy that he deplored " the great injury the irregularities of his youth had inflicted on the commonwealth." His temperament drove him instantly to convert thought into action. "It is my fatal destiny," he complained, "to do all things in twenty-four hours." Yet his superhuman efforts were of no avail; in vain did he accomplish the work of ten heroes. "I shall die," said he to Dumont, "before anything is accomplished ; perhaps we shall not meet
again The Members of the Assembly have wished to govern ,the King, instead of wishing to govern through him, but soon neither be nor they will govern." The words were prophetic in all senses. After a three days' debate and a reckless orgy, Mirabeau attended the Assembly to protect the interests of his friend La Marck. He spoke at great length, and gave up to friendship the poor remnant of his life. Carried back to La Marck, " your case is won," he murmured, "but I am dying." Thereupon he composed himself for a heroic scene, and truly, as Talleyrand said, no man ever dramatised his death to better effect. " Well, my dear critic of courageous deaths," said he to La Merck, "are you satisfied?" And to Frochot he exclaimed with a smile, " Yes, raise that head ; would that I could bequeath it to you!" Would that he could, indeed! For with Mirabean the statesmanship of France was eclipsed, since Mirabeau was the one man who might have saved his country from the reign of terror, and replaced wanton destruction by wise reform.
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