ent
day, who knew that king, should come and testify in his favor before
history; this deposition, whatever else it may be, is evidently and
above all things, entirely disinterested; an epitaph penned by a dead
man is sincere; one shade may console another shade; the sharing of the
same shadows confers the right to praise it; it is not greatly to
be feared that it will ever be said of two tombs in exile: "This one
flattered the other."
CHAPTER IV--CRACKS BENEATH THE FOUNDATION
At the moment when the drama which we are narrating is on the point of
penetrating into the depths of one of the tragic clouds which envelop
the beginning of Louis Philippe's reign, it was necessary that there
should be no equivoque, and it became requisite that this book should
offer some explanation with regard to this king.
Louis Philippe had entered into possession of his royal authority
without violence, without any direct action on his part, by virtue of a
revolutionary change, evidently quite distinct from the real aim of the
Revolution, but in which he, the Duc d'Orleans, exercised no personal
initiative. He had been born a Prince, and he believed himself to have
been elected King. He had not served this mandate on himself; he had not
taken it; it had been offered to him, and he had accepted it; convinced,
wrongly, to be sure, but convinced nevertheless, that the offer was in
accordance with right and that the acceptance of it was in accordance
with duty. Hence his possession was in good faith. Now, we say it in
good conscience, Louis Philippe being in possession in perfect good
faith, and the democracy being in good faith in its attack, the amount
of terror discharged by the social conflicts weighs neither on the
King nor on the democracy. A clash of principles resembles a clash of
elements. The ocean defends the water, the hurricane defends the
air, the King defends Royalty, the democracy defends the people; the
relative, which is the monarchy, resists the absolute, which is the
republic; society bleeds in this conflict, but that which constitutes
its suffering to-day will constitute its safety later on; and, in any
case, those who combat are not to be blamed; one of the two parties is
evidently mistaken; the right is not, like the Colossus of Rhodes, on
two shores at once, with one foot on the republic, and one in Royalty;
it is indivisible, and all on one side; but those who are in error are
so sincerely; a blind man is no
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