when London was decided on. He had made up his mind from the first that Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg was the fittest candidate for the Belgian throne. To this there was no serious opposition at London, and a change of Ministry at Paris in March brought Casimir Périer to the head of affairs. With this able statesman and friend Talleyrand could make more progress, though he described his advance on Ancona as "a piece of filibustering." By the middle of July Leopold was accepted in Belgium, and the irritating problem was settled.

But one difficulty was removed only to lead to another. Talleyrand had in April (1831) obtained from the Allies of 1815 a secret promise that some of the fortresses raised at that time against France should be demolished. Louis-Philippe wanted to be able to announce this welcome decision in his July address. As Talleyrand was dilatory in obtaining permission, the King made the announcement and declared he would not evacuate Belgium until the forts were destroyed. His ambassador had meantime secured the assent of the Powers, but had also signed a promise to evacuate Belgium in August. The King was much annoyed, but Talleyrand politely requested him and Périer not to make so much noise about the fortresses. To a private correspondent he wrote that he was tired to death of fighting Paris, when his whole attention was needed at London. He could see nothing but amour propre in the agitation at Paris. The struggle continued for some

time. Louis-Philippe wanted different forts destroyed from those that Talleyrand had named, and wrote angrily to him. His ambassador sent a polite and sarcastic reply, and the names of the forts remained unchanged when the matter was settled in January. Talleyrand's weariness expressed itself in the following passage of a letter to Sebastiani, which would probably be submitted to Louis-Philippe : "The King knows that I am a partisan of no dynasty. Since the days of Louis XVI I have served all Governments out of attachment to my country. I have abandoned them the moment they sacrificed the interests of France to personal interests. If the King is going to listen to domestic chatterers, he must not count on me." It was the voice of the King-maker.

At London he had maintained his diplomatic ascendency, though Palmerston annoyed him exceedingly. There was a good deal of ill-natured carping at his distinction. One day Lord Londonderry was misguided enough to voice this in the House of Lords. He referred to the influence of a certain "astute diplomatist" over the Conference, and said it was disgusting" to see English Ministers in such assiduous attendance on this man. Talleyrand, he peevishly reminded them, had been the Minister of Napoleon, of Louis, and of Charles, before he took the service of Louis-Philippe. Lord Goderich protested that Talleyrand's character should have protected him from such an attack, and then Wellington arose. After speaking of his relations to Talleyrand, he said: "I have no

hesitation in saying that at that time, in every one of the great transactions in which I have been engaged with Prince Talleyrand, no man could have conducted himself with more firmness and ability with regard to his own country, or with more uprightness and honour in all his communications with the Ministers of other countries than Prince Talleyrand. . . . No man's public and private character had ever been so much belied as both the public and private character of that individual." His words were greeted with loud cheers. Lord Holland added that "forty years' acquaintance with the noble individual referred to enabled him to bear his testimony to the fact that although those forty years had been passed during a time peculiarly fraught with calumnies of every description, there had been no man's private character more shamefully traduced, and no man's public character more mistaken and misrepresented, than the private and public character of Prince Talleyrand." A visitor the next morning found the aged diplomatist in tears, with the Times in his hand. He wrote to a friend that "at Paris, for which he was killing himself, no one would do as much for him." Cynics have not failed to point the moral. But it was merely a grateful exaggeration. Casimir Périer wrote to him soon afterwards: "Posterity will do you that full justice which, in times of social agitation, those who have charge of public interests must not expect from their contemporaries." Unfortunately, posterity still

likes to shudder over romantic wickedness.

Casimir Périer died in May, and there were not a few at Paris who thought of Talleyrand as his successor. The Prince was rather bent on retiring from public life. He went over to Paris, and found a condition of comparative anarchy resulting from the death of the strong leader. However, an abler Ministry than ever was got together, and in October he returned to London. If the chroniclers may be trusted, his wit had not diminished with age. A poet of suspicious repute had issued a piece on which his opinion was asked. "C'est que la corruption engendre les vers," he replied. A more questionable story is that he found Montrond one day in a fit on the floor, clawing at the carpet with his nails. "It looks as if he is quite determined to go down," he is described as saying.

The

But

The Belgian trouble was still unsettled, and in October he signed a convention with England to compel the Dutch to retire from Antwerp in obedience to the Conference. French troops were sent into Belgium, the Prussians massed a considerable force on the frontier, and this was a brief period of great anxiety. Dutch did not finally yield until May, 1833. this difficulty had scarcely disappeared before a fresh one arose. The Sultan of Turkey had appealed to Russia for help in subduing a rebellious vassal, and signed a treaty with the Tsar in July. The French were, however, jealous of Russian interference, and Talleyrand had to press at London for joint action. Nothing was done, however, when Russia anticipated