The Sun.
London, England, 1836-01-07 00:00:00

LITERATURE;

111E111OIRS OF MIRABEA U.
Fl' lII.USELF, HIS FATHER, HIS UNCLESAND HIS ADOPTED

CHILD.

Vols.: M. and: IV: London : Cturton. 1836.
These Volumes' include a period of eight• years
of the life of one of the. most extraordinary
men to whom France ever have birth. In krather
long review of the first. and second volumes of this
work, which, if we remember rightly, appeared some
twelve or fourteen Months since in the cohimns of
The Sun, we gave an account of the birth, parentage,
education, youthful studies, and pursuits of the Count
de Mirabeau, till the commencement of the year 1780,
when he was engaged in a correspondence with his,
uncle, the Bailli de Mirabeau, nee,ociating his lib:!ra-
tion from the prison of Vincennes, in which his father
had confined him by a letire de cachet. We par-
ticularly dwelt upon the fatal circumstance of the un-
natural abhorrence with which the Marquis de Mira-
beau, his father, regarded him from his very childhood
-=-the unfortunate domestic quarrels which afflicted
the Mirabeau fathily, with the exception 'of the Mar-
quis and his brother the Bailli—the assorted mar,
ridge of Mirabeau—and his intrigues with the Mar-
chioness de Monnier, so fatal to the peace, and so dis-
grieeful to the character of all parties. The private
life, of Mirabeau, from that period till his arrival in
Paris in 1788,-presents nothing worthy of especial
notice.. The circumstances of his trial for adultery ;
his pardon ; his compulsory . divorce, at the suit
of the Countess de irabeau; his reconciliation with
Ms. sister, his uncle, his father ; his quarrel with his
mother, and his total separatioM from his mistress,
are not' sufficiently interesting to claim more than
1 ).ssiPg observation in the columns• of a daily journal.
'e cOnfess, moreover, that this part of the MenioirS
of Mirabeau failed in awakening that lively interest
.
which- we always have felt in perusing the details.of
the private life of celebrated public characters. ' The
text, in fact, is overloaded with extracts from. the cor-
respondence of two pedantic, hollow-hearted, old men,
who in • a series of letters on one subject, spreading
over the greater part of three volumes, -continually
repeat themselves • and each other.. We are, in truth,.
deeps far 'from agreeing in the opinion of the writer,
with respect to his estimate of the character of the
Bailli de Mirabeau. Ile was a timid man ; and :like
all timid men, he was a time-serving flatterer, who
was ever read'y to desert his friends when they stood
hi the greatest teed of his active services. Such men
are to bt pitied—not praised. They, have,,in,general,
good hearts, but Weak heads, and vacillating judg-
ments. They may be loved, but it is ituussible
that wise men should ever either esteem -or trust
them. We have known—we even know—many such
Men; and if there be a character which we have
studied with advantage to ourselVes,.it is that of the
Constitutionally timid—and sach was the uncle of
Mirabeau. Why so many letters on subjects so im-
material to the biography of Mirabeau have been pre-
Served, unless to swell the memoirs, and so render
them a more profitable speculation to publishers and
booksellers, we cannot for the life Of S discover.
At the same time we have much reason to. complain,
'that while the victim of parental fear and hatred—
the dreaded' of friends and enemies, for reasons which
ewe cannot discover—is constantly paraded before us,
kihe- man is wholly kept-' out of sight ; so that in
t'point of fact, we know no more about him, as an in-
dividual, at eoncluding one of these volumes, than
we did at the commencement. This is very absurd
on the part of the author. If he knew nothing of the
private'life, habits, and conversations of Mirabeau, he
' ought- not to have attempted a biography of him ; if he
did know, it was his duty to have told all, without
reserve of any kind. It is the private actions of Mira-
bea4—not the senile twaddle of his father and uncle,
that posterity is interested in becoming well acquainted
with.

Nor arc the author's sentiments respecting the
conduct of Mirabeau's noble. paramour, subsequent to
the termination of her illicit commerce *ith him,

more to our taste than the endless literary missiirc,s,,
• the Marquis, and his brother the. Bailli. Such pecca
dillos as the entertainment of a pair of favoured lovers
by an adulteress, 'followed up by suicide, may seem
anything but blemishes in the eyes of •a Frenchman ;
but we, confess, that in us . they excite feelings of
loathing and disgust. We cannot understand the
maudlin sensibility of lovers, dying for one another this
minute, and flinging themselves into the arms of
strangers the next. Neither can we reconcile prosti-
tution in any woman, with proper notions of female
rectitude,. and unspotted purity of heart. Such doc-
trines may find disciples in France ; but, thank
Heaven 1 bad as we are-, no one would dare to pro-
pagate therd in England.
But the most important part of time life of Mirabeau
—the scenes of his first appearance, and his triumphs in
the National Assembly, out of which he may be said
to have stepped into his grac;e---are yet to be published.
Here nothing ought to .he suppressed—nothing par-
tially concealed. Mirabeau it was who gave a con-
stitutional charter to France ; and had he lived, there
. is no doubt but that he would have succeeded in pre-
venting the commission of the horrible enormities
-which tarnish the triumphs of the first Revolu-
tionists. One thing at least is certain--he. would
have saved the lives of such of the Royal family as
perished on the revolutionary seal:foil His presence
alone it was which gave unity to the measures of time
Right Side, emboldened the Plain, and awed the
Mountain. Robespierre dnrsehardly op: l his mouth
in the presence of Mirabeau ; aint his death was ne-
cessary to enable such wretches as Marat to obtain
seats in the Assembly. Although we are - hardly jus-
tified in anticipating the biography of Mirabeau, we
cannot resist quoting the sentiments of M. Thiers,
now Minister of the Interior, respecting the power
which Mirabeau exercised'over the National Assembly.
—a power which went on increasing till the day 'of
his death. The extract which we are about to make
will,be found in M. Thiers' history of the first French
Revolution—or more properly his history of the Gil-
ronde, for his narrative closes with the proscription of
the chiefs of that party :
" But of all the popular chiefs, Mirabeau took time
lead in every bold and perilous deliberation. The
absurd institutions of the old monarchy had, wounded
all unprejudiced persons, and irritated every upright
heart ; it was not possible, therefore, that they could
tall in outraging and exasperating an enthusiastic and
passionate mind. Such was the' mind of Mirabeau,
who, eucountering from his birth all kinds of despo-
tic‘m—that of his father, of the Government, and the
coats of justice_, spent his youth in hating and
•com-
bating them di,stincruished himself early by his
is debauched life, h: •
Hisquarrels, and his vehement
elo-
quence.trawls, observations, and extensive
;reading, bad given him knowledge on every subject,
iliing'that he learned. Extra,
matt
.""
and he'retained every
vagmt, eccentric,, an, sophistical, even without
k' the• aid of .passidn,
he I"'----evne quite another man
when under its influence. EleitQ by the warmth
'of a debate, or the presence ofhire pnepts,
fa` t. ke‘instantly took fire :.his first Were anfavg4l,
t nces broken, and his flesh ‘V.al;',ltati but;
--`313.10- n e .
uputi
eir„qetely," light ul-
6 in an instant the atvirealwiit and
reiq-e4ion of
years ; and even in the very act of speaking, his ani