THE TALLEYRANDISM OF THE DRAWING-ROOM.

BY MILES GERALD KEON, ESQ.

"Tout ce qui parait hazardeux et qui pourtant ne l'est pas, est presque toujours sage."-CARDINAL de Retz.

SOME persons are apt to suppose that the social machiavellism that distinguished the era preceeding the French revolution, has been altogether banished from the higher circles of Europe; and that all the subtle and finessing diplomacy which, even in the saloon, was indefatigably busy during that stirring day, in its vocation of reading hearts and contriving plots, of concerting ambitious intrigues, and acquiring or fast-holding the emoluments and dignities of courts, has been of late replaced by the old straightforward system of downright plain "directness." They who entertain this impression, are endowed with admirable simplicity. Not many years since, the occurrences which I am going to relate took place in London; and they will serve to show that these Alcibiades arts are yet cultivated in the ambitious atmosphere of courts.

A ministerial crisis had arrived. The government was fiercely pressed by the opposition, and the votes in the lower house stood so nearly balanced, that the voice of even one member had become a matter of very anxious importance. In this state of things, the victory was likely to favour the more active party of the two; emissaries were abroad in every quarter; all the expedients of ingenuity, and all the refined blandishments of the most vigilant address, were by both sides equally resorted to. In one word, there was a game of diplomacy.

In the very midst of it there suddenly appeared a young man, whose wonderful skill (visible chiefly in its effects) excited the observation and fixed the attention of all the higher political personages of the day. He had precisely the characteristics of the old school of diplomacy— the portraitures of whose disciples are to be seen in many of our most accepted romances.

As he was a ministerialist, proselytes of government everywhere started up before the witchery of his presence. Yet no one could divine the process by which these important conversions were achieved.

In his manners there was an inexpressible charm which always procured him a distinguished reception auprès des dames. Indeed, nothing could exceed scarce even can memory now recal the self-possession of his deportment. His velvet footfall, his cold bright eye,so watchful, yet so calm,-his smooth unruffled forehead, which no expression of joy or of alarm, of astonishment, of contempt, or o disappointment, ever visited with its tell-tale presence; these were the well-known individualities of his demeanour.

To do his memory justice, however, he had not the darker qualities of his class he seemed to take infinite delight in the scenes in which he was engaged, and to exult in the exercise of his wonderful intelligence, like the conquerors of old, who often derived more gratification from the exhibition of their military skill, than from the acquisitions territory which accrued to them by means of its exertion. He had, in

fact, all the talents, without a particle of the malignity, 'which generally belong to the state-intriguer. So that it was evident he pursued his profession as an amateur, delighting to feel his power; and though often exerting it without regard to the strict casuistry of right, yet never wielding it to crush a personal enemy, or to wreak a personal

revenge.

The ideal associations connected with a career like his, had, in his earliest youth, fascinated his imagination. The tapestried closet, the rich and retinued hall, the crowded levee, and the gay excitement of the ball-room, were scenes among which he loved to move, and where he was eminently fitted to figure. The midnight conference, the critical charge, the delicate and difficult interview in which only the most consummate tact could avail him; these, and such as these, had for him all the charms of romance.

On the other hand, however, it must be admitted that his practice was not always so poetical as his theory; and that he did occasionally perform some mischievous achievements. Divisions and broils among the best of friends, were as frequently observed to make a mysterious appearance where he had for a while flitted, as reconciliations between the most deadly enemies were known to be the certain results of his mediation-not that he carried tales; he was never so insane; and it was a frequent phrase with him, "that there was no ingenuity in a lie." All then that can be said is, that he contrived matter according to methods of his own, which it would perhaps be vague and visionary to divine. Indeed, during one season when he was particularly capricious, so many unaccountable dissensions, and such a high warfare of scandal took place, that one lady, whose name we need not mention, but whom we believe to have been more observant than the rest of the world, was heard to say, "If we were living a few centuries back, I should assuredly believe that that young élégant had the evil eye; he but looks on you, and straightway your affairs go wrong. But as evil eyes are grown out of fashion, and as he is decidedly in fashion, I must merely conclude, that he has a fund of the most mischievous ingenuity."

Our hero (if so we may call the personage who principally figures in the narrative we are about to relate) overheard this remark; for, by a coincidence, he chanced at the moment to be standing near. He bowed quietly and then with that slow and distinct utterance for which he was remarkable, smilingly said,

:

"Ah! you and I ought to be the dearest friends; there is quite a congeniality of sentiment between us. I am uncharitably ingenious; you uncharitably witty. A talent is sometimes a very great temptation."

Such then was his reputation, and such the sentence awarded to him by the voice of fashion.

It was about two years afterwards that the ministerial crisis, to which we have already once alluded, came darkening over the political world. Our hero was then private secretary to the prime-minister. For the sake of distinctness, we shall in future call the secretary D'Amarrs. This was not his real name, but it will serve the purpose of our narrative.

One evening, then, at this epoch, D'Amarrs was summoned to the

minister's closet. After the usual preliminaries of etiquette, which are never in such cases very tedious, the premier plunged in medias res, but still with characteristic deliberation.

"Matters, D'Amarrs," said he, " are in a way, and so far succeeding; but there are two or three little delicate points still to be achieved."

The secretary bowed forward.

"D'Amarrs," continued the premier," you have proved to me repeatedly, and in a manner of which I cannot but be sensible, that you possess extraordinary talents. I am very well pleased with your conduct, and I hope that you are equally well pleased with your post."

As he was here clearly expected to answer, D'Amarrs muttered something about "highly flattered, unabated zeal," after which the premier resumed.

"But this very post of yours may be occupied by another in a few days, D'Amarrs. Can you guess the reason ?"

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Perhaps," replied the secretary, with his usual cool tone," perhaps, my lord, it is because your lordship's post also may be occupied by another in a few days. Have I by chance guessed the reason?"

"Hem, D'Amarrs, you have," answered the minister; "but this double misfortune you are destined to avert. You must here bring your talents into play."

D'Amarrs stirred the fire, and then leaned comfortably back in his chair, but did not utter a word. As the minister continued to scrutinize him, the secretary arose and snuffed the two candles, one after another, after which, with the utmost sang froid, he reseated himself, preserving all the while the most tantalising silence.

"The fact is," resumed his lordship at last, "there is, you are aware, Mr. Warnerston in the lower house, who has three or four votes at his command. He must be gained."

"True, my lord: so he must."

"But it is not so easy an affair as you suppose," continued his lordship. "He is well enough disposed himself, but an unusual difficulty lies in the way; indeed, it's quite a peculiar case, and just suited to you. There is an enthusiastic friendship between his daughter and the daughter of the leader of the opposition, Sir George Crake. Now the girls know the state of parties, and are well versed, it seems, in politics; and Miss Warnerston has been played upon by her friend Miss Crake, not to allow her father to destroy the harmony of the families, by voting against her father. And what between the doubting politician and the doting papa, this Warnerston throws the little predilection he had for us to the winds, and means to join the opposition. You see the whole affair is a pitiful intrigue,'DAmarrs. The women are perpetually in the way. Now, what I want you to do is, to bring the two young ladies to feud. Warnerston of course would then be certain."

"But how much time will your lordship give me to effect this purpose?" demanded the youthful confidant.

"Until the day after to-morrow," said the minister. "The two young ladies will be at the Duchess of Hanvers' ball to-morrow night, and you should choose that opportunity for effecting the 'point.""

As the secretary here thoughtfully arose, and walked towards a table behind, as if to look for something, the premier imagined it was in re

ference to the communication he had just been making, that D'Amarrs occupied himself. He therefore waited patiently to hear him speak, expecting that there might, perhaps, be some objection in the other's mind, or some cautious suggestion. Finding, however, that he still continued to look about, he lordship said,

"Well, D'Amarrs, what do you think of the task which I have charged with ?"

you

Eh, my lord?" said D'Amarrs, turning round with a start. "Oh! I beg ten thousand pardons; but I could not imagine that your lordship was still thinking of the matter. It is arranged."

As the minister was that night leaving his closet in a state of the highest satisfaction with his secretary, whom he had bid good night to some hours before, he met one of his own colleagues in office just outside the door.

"Ah! my lord," said he, rubbing his hands with an air of glee, "Warnerston is certain; D'Amarrs has undertaken the matter."

"But Miss Crake?" returned the brother minister; "but the two daughters what of them?"

That is precisely the point," said the will spoil their harmony for ever and a day. to make them quarrel."

premier. "My secretary He has agreed, in a word,

"Absurd!" sneered the other" absurd and preposterous! Why, my lord, their intimacy has reached to that romantic degree, that it is utterly hopeless to make them quarrel. Surely you are not imposed upon by the self-assurance of this young man. Pardon me, I am aware that he is very subtle and diplomatic; but to think of dividing these female Pylades and Orestes. Ha! ha! ha!"

"But, my lord, to-morrow night at the Duchess of Hanvers' ball, you will judge for yourself."

"I shall be there on purpose," was the quick reply.

*

Never was ball gayer or better attended than that of the Duchess of Hanvers. We shall not waste a moment of description upon the brilliant coup d'œil of the rooms. We shall not pause to note, what has been often already noted, the effulgence of the many-coloured lights, the glitter of some gorgeous uniform, the blaze of jewels, the soft luxurious profusion of costly furniture; these things have been often already noted; but there was one thing to-night which has seldom been described-the stealthy, but never-failing march of the diplomatist. Great events are often prepared in the ball-room; administrations and kingdoms have risen and fallen within its curtained precincts. And as for private life, the rival lover and the competing friend, have many and many a time performed their purposes, achieved their ends, and arrived at their destiny, while breathing the voluptuous atmosphere of la belle assemblée. If any one has ever wondered by what means it is that certain persons contrive to eclipse all competitors in general conversation, and to oust all rivals in private attachments, whether of love or friendship,-let such a person now attend while I depict the workings of that strange talent which holds its silent but potential empire over the internal and impalpable world of the mind, leaving the ostentatious and noisy frame of external things, to be influenced only indirectly by its movements; that talent to which every

heart hands up her secrets as it steals along, and yet whose own secrets no other heart has ever penetrated-the talent of Talleyrand and of Machiavel-of Chesterfield, Metternich, or of Pozzo di Borgo.

The smiling misery of the evening was at its height; the softest strains of music were floating through the apartments; the reign of love, at least here and there, had begun, when Charles Maurice D'Amarrs made his welcome entry. He looked carelessly around; made some general compliments to two or three successive groups which had approached him, and then lounged with an air half-distrait, half-dandyish, towards the further end of the apartments.

"There he is! there is D'Amarrs!" whispered] the premier to his brother minister; and they both followed the secretary at a distance. Miss Warnerston and her friend Miss Crake, had been sitting together on an ottoman; but at this moment the former arose and joined the sets with a graceful young hussar for her partner; the other young lady remained for a moment alone, and then was on the point of getting up, when she perceived D'Amarrs approach. The secretary was at that era in the height and flush of his fashionable celebrity; and Miss Crake was not ill-pleased at the prospect of his company.

How very warm it is," said he, as he seated himself beside her. "Ah! indeed it is," returned the intellectual lady, with an air of languor, "indeed it is."

"It is as warm as friendship," pursued he; "though that is not saying much, for there is scarcely any real friendship in all the worldat least, it is as rare as it is costly."

"And yet," answered she, with a platonic look, "there are some in the world who do exhibit instances of genuine friendship."

"Ah!" ejaculated D'Amarrs, "how happy they must be! The unbounded confidence of their mutual intercourse must be a source of infinite pleasure and security."

"Yes," said she, sympathetically, "without full and boundless confidence on both sides, no true or happy friendship can exist."

"Don't you think," asked D'Amarrs, "that it is the mark of a superior and imperial character, to attract that sort of devoted and trusting enthusiasm towards oneself?"

"Unquestionably!" answered Miss Crake.

"I," continued he, "am always apt to consider that one (of two friends) who is most the object of this confidence, as (of the two) the superior mind, the piloting, the guiding star.”

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"I understand," replied the other.

"It is quite as much as I do myself," thought he.

After a short pause, he added: "The person who can assert without fear of contradiction, that he knows in all the world a single being who would tell him any secret-in fact, who had no secret from him-must, I think, be not only a very amiable, but also a very admirable person, and have qualities that attract love, along with talents that command confidence and inspire respect: but I do not, I cannot believe that there lives such a person, that, in a word, there lives a person who knows one single being, that loves or admires him so much."

"Now, I am inclined to think there a few who can say it," replied Miss Crake slily; for her vanity had immediately gorged the bait.