No. I.
The Viscount de Châteaubriand to M. Guizot.
Val-de-Loup, May 12th, 1809.
Sir,
I return you a thousand thanks. I have read your articles with extreme pleasure. You praise me with so much grace, and bestow on me so many commendations, that you may easily afford to diminish the latter. Enough will always remain to satisfy my vanity as an author, and assuredly more than I deserve.
I find your criticisms extremely just; one in particular has struck me by its refined taste. You say that the Catholics cannot, like the Protestants, admit a Christian mythology, because we have not been trained and accustomed to it by great poets. This is most ingenious; and if my work should be considered good enough to induce people to say that I am the first to commence this mythology, it might be replied that I come too late, that our taste is formed upon other models, etc. etc. etc.... Nevertheless there will always be Tasso, and all the Latin Catholic poems of the Middle Ages. This appears to me the only solid objection that can be raised against your remark.
In truth, and I speak with perfect sincerity, the criticisms which, before yours, have appeared on my work, make me feel to a certain extent ashamed of the French. Have you observed that no one seems to have comprehended its design? That the rules of epic composition are so generally forgotten, that a work of thought and immense labour is judged as if it were the production of a day, or a mere romance? And all this outcry is against the marvellous! Would it not imply that I am the inventor of this style? that it has been hitherto unheard of, and is singular and new? And yet we have Tasso, Milton, Klopstock, Gessner, and even Voltaire! And if we are not to employ the marvellous in a Christian subject, there can no longer be an epic in modern poetry, for the marvellous is essential to that style of composition, and I believe no one would be inclined to introduce Jupiter in a subject taken from our own history. All this, like every thing else in France, is insincere. The question to be decided was, whether my work was good or bad as an epic poem; all was comprised in this point, without attempting to ascertain whether it was or was not contrary to religion; and a thousand other arguments of the same kind.
I cannot deliver an opinion on my own work; I can only convey to you that of others. M. Fontanes is entirely in favour of 'The Martyrs.' He finds this production much superior to what I have written before, in plan, style, and characters.
What appears singular to me is, that the third Book, which you condemn, seems to him one of the best of the whole! With regard to style, he thinks that I have never before reached so high a point as in the description of the happiness of the just, in that of the light of Heaven, and in the passage on the Virgin. He tolerates the length of the two dialogues between the Father and Son, on the necessity of establishing the epic machinery. Without these dialogues there could be no more narrative or action; the narrative and action are accounted for by the conversation of the uncreated beings.
I mention this, Sir, not to convince, but to show you how sound judgments can see the same object under different aspects. With you I dislike the description of torture, but I consider it absolutely necessary in a work upon Martyrs. It has been consecrated by all history and every art. Christian painting and sculpture have selected these subjects; herein lies the real controversy of the question. You, Sir, who are well acquainted with the details, know to what extent I have softened the picture, and how much I have suppressed of the Acta Martyrum, particularly in holding back physical agony, and in opposing agreeable images to harrowing torments. You are too just not to distinguish between the objections of the subject and the errors of the poet.
For the rest, you, Sir, well know the tempest raised against my work, and the source from whence they proceed. There is another sore not openly displayed, and which lies at the root of all this anger. It is that Hierocles massacres the Christians in the name of philosophy and liberty. Time will do me justice if my book deserves it, and you will greatly accelerate this judgment by publishing your articles, if you could be induced to modify them to a certain extent. Show me my faults and I will correct them. I only despise those writers, who are as contemptible in their language as in the secret reasons which prompt them to speak. I can neither find reason nor honour in the mouths of those literary mountebanks in the hire of the Police, who dance in the kennels for the amusement of lacqueys.
I am in my cottage, where I shall be delighted to hear from you. It would give me the greatest pleasure to receive you here, if you would be so kind as to visit me. Accept the assurance of my profound esteem and high consideration.
De Châteaubriand.
The Viscount de Châteaubriand to M. Guizot.
Val-de-Loup, May 30th, 1809.
Sir,
Far from troubling me, you have given me the greatest pleasure in doing me the favour to communicate your ideas. This time I shall condemn the introduction of the marvellous in a Christian subject, and am willing to believe with you, that it will never be adopted in France. But I cannot admit that 'The Martyrs' are founded on a heresy. The question is not of a redemption, which would be absurd, but of an expiation, which is entirely consistent with faith. In all ages, the Church has held that the blood of a martyr could efface the sins of the people, and deliver them from their penalties. Undoubtedly you know, better than I do, that formerly, in times of war and calamity, a monk was confined in a tower or a cell, where he fasted and prayed for the salvation of all. I have not left my intention in doubt, for in the third Book I have caused it to be positively declared to the Eternal that Eudore will draw the blessings of Heaven upon the Christians through the merits of the blood of the Saviour. This, as you see, is precisely the orthodox phrase, and the exact lesson of the catechism. The doctrine of expiation, so consolatory in other respects, and consecrated by antiquity, has been acknowledged in our religion: its mission from Christ has not destroyed it. And I may observe, incidentally, that I hope the sacrifice of some innocent victim, condemned in the Revolution, will obtain from Heaven the pardon of our guilty country. Those whom we have slaughtered are, perhaps, praying for us at this very moment. Surely you cannot wish to renounce this sublime hope, which springs from the tears and blood of Christians.
In conclusion, the frankness and sincerity of your conduct make me forget for a moment the baseness of the present age. What can we think of a time when an honest man is told, "You will pronounce on such a work, such an opinion; you will praise or blame it, not according to your conscience, but according to the spirit of the journal in which you write"! We are too happy to find critics like you, who stand up against such conventional baseness, and preserve the tradition of honour for human nature. As a conclusive estimate, if you carefully examine 'The Martyrs,' undoubtedly you will find much to reprehend; but taking all points into consideration, you will see that in plan, characters, and style, it is the best and least defective of my feeble writings.
I have a nephew in Russia, named Moreau, the grandson of a sister of my mother; I am scarcely acquainted with him, but I believe him to be an honourable man. His father, who was also in Russia, returned to France about a year ago. I have been delighted with the opportunity which has procured for me the honour of becoming acquainted with Mademoiselle de Meulan; she has appeared to me, as in all that she writes, full of mind, good taste, and sense. I much fear that I inconvenienced her by the length of my visit; I have the fault of remaining wherever I find amiable acquaintances, and especially when I meet exalted characters and noble sentiments.
I repeat most sincerely the assurance of my high esteem, gratitude, and devotion. I look forward with impatience to the moment when I can either receive you in my hermitage, or visit you in your solitude.
Accept, I pray you, my sincerest compliments.
De Châteaubriand.
The Viscount de Châteaubriand to M. Guizot.
Val-de-Loup, June 12th, 1809.
Sir,
I happened to be absent from my valley for several days, which has prevented me from replying sooner to your letters. Behold me thoroughly convinced of heresy. I admit that the word redeemed escaped me inadvertently, and in truth contrary to my intention. But there it is, and I shall efface it from the next edition.
I have read your first two articles, and repeat my thanks [for] them. They are excellent, and you praise me far beyond what I deserve. What has been said with respect to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is quite correct. The description could only have been given by one who knows the localities. But the Holy Sepulchre itself might easily have escaped the fire without a special miracle. It forms, in the middle of the circular nave of the church, a kind of catafalque of white marble: the cupola of cedar, in falling, might have crushed it, but could not have set it on fire. It is nevertheless a very extraordinary circumstance, and one worthy of much longer details than can be confined within the limits of a letter.
I wish much that I could relate these particulars to you, personally, in your retirement. Unfortunately, Madame de Châteaubriand is ill, and I cannot leave her. But I do not give up the idea of paying you a visit, nor of receiving you here in my hermitage. Honourable men ought, particularly at present, to unite for mutual consolation. Generous ideas and exalted sentiments become every day so rare that we ought to be too happy when we encounter them. I should be delighted if my society could prove agreeable to you, as also to M. Stapfer, to whom I beg you will convey my warmest thanks.
Accept once more, I pray you, the assurance of my high consideration and sincere devotion, and if you will permit me to add, of a friendship which is commenced under the auspices of frankness and honour.
De Châteaubriand.
The best [description] of Jerusalem is that of Danville; but his little treatise is very scarce. In general, all travellers are very exact as to Palestine; there is a letter in the 'Lettres Édifiantes' ('Missions to the Levant'), which leaves nothing to be desired. With regard to M. de Volney, he is valuable on the government of the Turks, but it is evident that he has not been at Jerusalem. It is probable that he never went beyond Ramleh or Rama, the ancient Arimathea. You may also consult the 'Theatrum Terræ Sanctæ' of Adrichomius.
No. II.
Count de Lally-Tolendal to M. Guizot.
Brussels, April 27th, 1811.
Sir,
You will be unable to account for my silence, as I found it difficult to understand the tardy arrival of the prospectuses you had promised me in your letter of the fourth of this month. I must explain to you that the porter here had confounded that packet with the files of unimportant printed papers addressed to a Prefecture, and if the want of a book had not induced me to visit the private study of the Prefect, I should perhaps have not yet discovered the mistake. I thank you for the confidence with which you have treated me on this occasion. You are aware that no one renders you more than I do, the full justice to which you are entitled, and you also know that I accord it equally from inclination and conviction. My generation has passed away, yours is in full action, and a third is on the point of rising. I see you placed between two, to console the first, to do honour to the second, and to form the third. Endeavour to make the last like yourself; by which I do not mean that I wish all the little boys to know as much as you do, or all the little girls to resemble in everything, your more than amiable partner. We must not desire what we cannot obtain, and I should too much regret my own decline if such an attractive age were about to commence. But restrain my idea within its due limits, and dictate like Solon the best laws which the infancy of the nineteenth century can bear or receive; this will abundantly suffice. Today the mox progeniem daturos vitiosiorem would make one's hair stand on end.
Madame de la Tour du Pin, a Baroness of the Empire for two years, a Prefectess of the Dyle for three, and a religious mother for twenty, will recommend your journal with all the influence of her two first titles, and subscribes to it with all the interest that the last can inspire. I, who have no other pretension, and desire no other, than that of a father and a friend, request your permission to subscribe for my daughter, who, commencing the double education of a little Arnaud and a little Léontine, will be delighted to profit by your double instruction. I believe also that the grandfather himself will often obtain knowledge, and always pleasure, from the same source. It seems to me that no association could be more propitious to the union of the utile dulci. If I were to allow free scope to my pen, I feel assured that I should write thus like a madman to one of the two authors: "Not being able to make myself once more young, to adore your merits, I become an old infant, to receive your lessons. I kiss from a distance the hand of my youthful nurse, with the most profound respect, but not sufficiently abstracted from some of those emotions which have followed my first childhood, and which my second education ought to correct. Is it possible to submit to your rod with more ingenuousness? At least I confess my faults. As I am bound to speak the truth, I dare not yet add, this can never happen to me again. But the strong resolution will come with weak age; and the more I can transform myself, the nearer I shall approach perfection."
Will you be so kind as to present my respects to Madame and Mademoiselle de Meulan. Have you not a very excellent and amiable young man (another of the few who are consoled by elevation and purity of mind), the nephew of M. Hocher, residing under the same roof with yourself? If so, I beg you to recall me to his remembrance, and through him to that of his uncle, from whom I expect, with much anxiety, an answer upon a matter of the greatest interest to the uncle of my son-in-law, in the installation of the Imperial Courts. But nothing has arrived by the post.
I shall say nothing to you of our good and estimable friends of the Place Louis Quinze, for I am going to write to them directly.
But it has just occurred to me to entreat a favour of you before I close my letter. When, in your precepts to youth, you arrive at the chapter and age which treats of the choice of a profession, I implore you to insert something to this effect: "If your vocation leads you to be a publisher or editor of any work, moral, political, or historical, it matters not which, do not consider yourself at liberty to mutilate an author without his previous knowledge, and above all, one who is tenacious of the inviolability of his text more from conscience than self-love. If you mutilate him on your own responsibility, which is tolerably bold, do not believe that you are permitted to substitute a fictitious member of your own construction for the living one you have lopped off; and be cautious lest, without being aware of it, you replace an arm of flesh by a wooden leg. But break up all your presses rather than make him say, under the seal of his own signature, the contrary of what he has written, thought, or felt. To do this is an offence almost amounting to a moral crime." I write more at length on this topic to my friends of the Place Louis Quinze, and I beg you to speak to none but them of my enigma, which assuredly you have already solved; I hope that what has now offended and vexed me will not happen again. In saying what was necessary, I used very guarded expressions. I do not wish a rupture, the vengeance of which might fall on cherished memories or living friends. My letter has taken a very serious turn; I little thought, when I began, that it would lead me to this conclusion. I feel that I am in conversation with you, and carried away by full confidence. It is most gratifying to me to have added an involuntary proof of this sentiment to the spontaneous expression of all those with which you have so deeply inspired me, and the assurance of which I have the honour to repeat, accompanied by my sincere salutations.
Lally-Tolendal.
P.S. Allow me to enclose the addresses for the two subscriptions.
No. III.
Discourse delivered by M. Guizot, on the opening of his first Course of Lectures on Modern History. December 11th, 1812.
A statesman equally celebrated for his character and misfortunes, Sir Walter Raleigh, had published the first part of a 'History of the World;' while confined in the Tower, he employed himself in finishing the second. A quarrel arose in one of the courts of the prison; he looked on attentively at the contest, which became sanguinary, and left the window with his imagination strongly impressed by the scene that had passed under his eyes. On the morrow a friend came to visit him, and related what had occurred. But great was his surprise when this friend, who had been present at and even engaged in the occurrence of the preceding day, proved to him that this event, in its result as well as in its particulars, was precisely the contrary of what he had believed he saw. Raleigh, when left alone, took up his manuscript and threw it in the fire; convinced that, as he had been so completely deceived with respect to the details of an incident he had actually witnessed, he could know nothing whatever of those he had just described with his pen.
Are we better informed or more fortunate than Sir Walter Raleigh? The most confident historian would hesitate to answer this question directly in the affirmative. History relates a long series of events, and depicts a vast number of characters; and let us recollect, gentlemen, the difficulty of thoroughly understanding a single character or a solitary event. Montaigne, after having passed his life in self-study, was continually making new discoveries on his own nature; he has filled a long work with them, and ends by saying, "Man is a subject so diversified, so uncertain and vain, that it is difficult to pronounce any fixed and uniform opinion on him." He is, in fact, an obscure compound of an infinity of ideas and sentiments, which change and modify themselves reciprocally, and of which it is as difficult to disentangle the sources as to foresee the results. An uncertain produce of a multiplicity of circumstances, sometimes impenetrable, always complicated, often unknown to the person influenced by them, and not even suspected by those who surround him, man scarcely learns how to know himself, and is never more than guessed at by others. The simplest mind, if it attempted to examine and describe itself, would impart to us a thousand secrets, of which we have not the most remote suspicion. And how many different men are comprised in an event! how many whose characters have influenced that event, and have modified its nature, progress, and effects! Bring together circumstances in perfect accordance; suppose situations exactly similar: let a single actor change, and all is changed. He is urged by fresh motives, and desires new objects. Take the same actors, and alter but one of those circumstances independent of human will, which are called chance or destiny; and all is changed again. It is from this infinity of details, where everything is obscure, and nothing isolated, that history is composed; and man, proud of what he knows, because he forgets to think of how much he is ignorant, believes that he has acquired a full knowledge of history when he has read what some few have told him, who had no better means of understanding the times in which they lived, than we possess of justly estimating our own.
What then are we to seek and find in the darkness of the past, which thickens as it recedes from us? If Cæsar, Sallust, or Tacitus have only been able to transmit doubtful and imperfect notions, can we rely on what they relate? And if we are not to trust them, how are we to supply ourselves with information? Shall we be capable of disembarrassing our minds of those ideas and manners, and of that new existence, which a new order of things has produced, to adopt momentarily in our thoughts other manners and ideas, and a different character of being? Must we learn to become Greeks, Romans, or Barbarians, in order to understand these Romans, Barbarians, or Greeks, before we venture to judge them? And even if we could attain this difficult abnegation of an actual and imperious reality, should we become then as well acquainted with the history of the times of which they tell us, as were Cæsar, Sallust, or Tacitus? After being thus transported to the midst of the world they describe, we should find gaps in their delineations, of which we have at present no conception, and of which they were not always sensible themselves. That multiplicity of facts which, grouped together and viewed from a distance, appear to fill time and space, would present to us, if we found ourselves placed on the ground they occupy, as voids which we should find it impossible to fill up, and which the historians leave there designedly, because he who relates or describes what he sees, to others who see equally with himself, never feels called upon to recapitulate all that he knows.
Let us therefore refrain from supposing that history can present to us, in reality, an exact picture of the past; the world is too extensive, the night of time too obscure, and man too weak for such a portrait to be ever a complete reflection.
But can it be true that such important knowledge is entirely interdicted to us?—that in what we can acquire, all is a subject of doubt and error? Does the mind only enlighten itself to increase its wavering? Does it develope all its strength, merely to end in a confession of ignorance?—a painful and disheartening idea, which many men of superior intellect have encountered in their course, but by which they ought never to have been impeded!
Man seldom asks himself what he really requires to know, in his ardent pursuit of knowledge; he need only cast a glance upon his studies, to discover two divisions, the difference between which is striking, although we may be unable to assign the boundaries that separate them. Everywhere we perceive a certain innocent but futile labour, which attaches itself to questions and inquiries equally inaccessible and without results—which has no other object than to satisfy the restless curiosity of minds, the first want of which is occupation; and everywhere, also, we observe useful, productive, and interesting inquiry, not only advantageous to those who indulge in it, but beneficial to human nature at large. What time and talent have men wasted in metaphysical lucubrations! They have sought to penetrate the internal nature of things, of the mind, and of matter; they have taken purely vague combinations of words for substantial realities; but these very researches, or others which have arisen out of them, have enlightened us upon the order of our faculties, the laws by which they are governed, and the progress of their development; we have acquired from thence a history, a statistic of the human mind; and if no one has been able to tell us what it is, we have at least learned how it acts, and how we ought to act to strengthen its justice and extend its range.
Was not the study of astronomy for a long time directed to the dreams of astrology? Gassendi himself began to investigate it with that view; and when science cured him of the prejudices of superstition, he repented that he so openly declared his conversion, because, he said, many persons formerly studied astronomy to become astrologers, and he now perceived that they ceased to learn astronomy, since he had condemned astrology. Who then can prove to us that, without the restlessness of anticipation which had led men to seek the future in the stars, the science, by which today our ships are directed, would ever have reached its present perfection?
It is thus that we shall ever find, in the labours of man, one half fruitless, by the side of another moiety profitable; we shall then no longer condemn the curiosity which leads to knowledge; we shall acknowledge that, if the human mind often wanders in its path, if it has not always selected the most direct road, it has finally arrived, by the necessity of its nature, at the discovery of important truths; but, with progressive enlightenment, we shall endeavour not to lose time, to go straight to the end by concentrating our strength on fruitful inquiries and profitable results; and we shall soon convince ourselves that what man cannot do is valueless, and that he can achieve all that is necessary.
The application of this idea to history will soon remove the difficulty which its uncertainty raised at the outset. For example, it is of little consequence to us to know the exact personal appearance or the precise day of the birth of Constantine; to ascertain what particular motives or individual feelings may have influenced his determination or conduct on any given occasion; to be acquainted with all the details of his wars and victories in the struggles with Maxentius or Licinius: these minor points concern the monarch alone; and the monarch exists no longer. The anxiety some scholars display in hunting them out is merely a consequence of the interest which attaches to great names and important reminiscences. But the results of the conversion of Constantine, his administrative system, the political and religious principles which he established in his empire,—these are the matters which it imports the present generation to investigate; for they do not expire with a particular age, they form the destiny and glory of nations, they confer or take away the use of the most noble faculties of man; they either plunge them silently into a state of misery alternately submissive and rebellious, or establish for them the foundation of a lasting happiness.
It may be said, to a certain extent, that there are two pasts, the one entirely extinct and without real interest, because its influence has not extended beyond its actual duration; the other enduring for ever by the empire it has exercised over succeeding ages, and by that alone preserved to our knowledge, since what remains of it is there to enlighten us upon what has perished. History presents us, at every epoch, with some predominant ideas, some great events which have decided the fortune and character of a long series of generations. These ideas and events have left monuments which still remain, or which long remained, on the face of the world; an extended trace, in perpetuating the memory and effect of their existence, has multiplied the materials suitable for our guidance in the researches of which they are the object; reason itself can here supply us with its positive data to conduct us through the uncertain labyrinth of facts. In a past event there may have been some particular circumstance at present unknown, which would completely alter the idea we have formed of it. Thus, we shall never discover the reason which delayed Hannibal at Capua, and saved Rome; but in an effect which has endured for a long time, we easily ascertain the nature of its cause. The despotic authority which the Roman Senate exercised for ages over the people, explains to us the ideas of liberty within which the Senators restricted themselves when they expelled their kings. Let us then follow the path in which we can have reason for our guide; let us apply the principles, with which she furnishes us, to the examples borrowed from history. Man, in the ignorance and weakness to which the narrow limits of his life and faculties condemn him, has received reason to supply knowledge, as industry is given to him in place of strength.
Such, gentlemen, is the point of view under which we shall endeavour to contemplate history. We shall seek, in the annals of nations, a knowledge of the human race; we shall try to discover what, in every age and state of civilization, have been the prevailing ideas and principles in general adoption, which have produced the happiness or misery of the generations subjected to their power, and have influenced the destiny of those which succeeded them. The subject is one of the most abundant in considerations of this nature. History presents to us periods of development, during which man, emerging from a state of barbarism and ignorance, arrives gradually at a condition of science and advancement, which may decline, but can never perish, for knowledge is an inheritance that always finds heirs. The civilization of the Egyptians and Phœnicians prepared that of the Greeks; while that of the Romans was not lost to the barbarians who established themselves upon the ruins of the Empire. No preceding age has ever enjoyed the advantage we possess, of studying this slow but real progression: while looking back on the past, we can recognize the route which the human race has followed in Europe for more than two thousand years. Modern history alone, from its vast scope, from the variety and extent of its duration, offers us the grandest and most complete picture which we could possibly possess of the civilization of a certain portion of the globe. A rapid glance will suffice to indicate the character and interest of the subject.
Rome had conquered what her pride delighted to call the world. Western Asia, from the frontiers of Persia, the North of Africa, Greece, Macedonia, Thrace, all the countries situated on the right bank of the Danube, from its source to its mouth, Italy, Gaul, Great Britain, and Spain, acknowledged her authority. That authority extended over more than a thousand leagues in breadth, from the Wall of Antoninus and the southern boundaries of Dacia, to Mount Atlas;—and beyond fifteen hundred leagues in length, from the Euphrates to the Western Ocean. But if the immense extent of these conquests at first surprises the imagination, the astonishment diminishes when we consider how easy they were of accomplishment, and how uncertain of duration. In Asia, Rome had only to contend with effeminate races; in Europe, with ignorant savages, whose governments, without union, regularity, or vigour, were unable to contend with the strong constitution of the Roman aristocracy. Let us pause a moment to reflect on this. Rome found it more difficult to defend herself against Hannibal than to subjugate the world; and as soon as the world was subdued, Rome began to lose, by degrees, all that she had won by conquest. How could she maintain her power? The comparative state of civilization between the victors and the vanquished had prevented union or consolidation into one substantial and homogeneous whole; there was no extended and regular administration, no general and safe communication; the provinces were only connected with Rome by the tribute they paid; Rome was unknown in the provinces, except by the tribute she exacted. Everywhere, in Asia Minor, in Africa, in Spain, in Britain, in the North of Gallia, small colonies defended and maintained their independence; all the power of the Emperors was inadequate to compel the submission of the Isaurians. The whole formed a chaos of nations half vanquished and semi-barbarous, without interest or existence in the State of which they were considered a portion, and which Rome denominated the Empire.
No sooner was this Empire conquered, than it began to dissolve, and that haughty city which looked upon every region as subdued where she could, by maintaining an army, appoint a proconsul, and levy imposts, soon saw herself compelled to abandon, almost voluntarily, the possessions she was unable to retain. In the year of Christ 270, Aurelian retired from Dacia, and tacitly abandoned that territory to the Goths; in 412, Honorius recognized the independence of Great Britain and Armorica; in 428, he wished the inhabitants of Gallia Narbonensis to govern themselves. On all sides we see the Romans abandoning, without being driven out, countries whose obedience, according to the expression of Montesquieu, weighed upon them, and which, never having been incorporated with the Empire, were sure to separate from it on the first shock.
The shock came from a quarter which the Romans, notwithstanding their pride, had never considered one of their provinces. Even more barbarous than the Gauls, the Britons, and the Spaniards, the Germans had never been conquered, because their innumerable tribes, without fixed residences or country, ever ready to advance or retreat, sometimes threw themselves, with their wives and flocks, upon the possessions of Rome, and at others retired before her armies, leaving nothing for conquest but a country without inhabitants, which they re-occupied as soon as the weakness or distance of the conquerors afforded them the opportunity. It is to this wandering life of a hunting nation, to this facility of flight and return, rather than to superior bravery, that the Germans were indebted for the preservation of their independence. The Gauls and Spaniards had also defended themselves courageously; but the one, surrounded by the ocean, knew not where to fly from enemies they could not expel; and the other, in a state of more advanced civilization, attacked by the Romans, to whom the Narbonnese province afforded, in the very heart of Gaul itself, an impregnable base, and repulsed by the Germans from the land into which they might have escaped, were also compelled to submit. Drusus and Germanicus had long before penetrated into Germany; they withdrew, because the Germans always retreating before them, they would, by remaining, have only occupied territory without subjects.
When, from causes not connected with the Roman Empire, the Tartar tribes who wandered through the deserts of Sarmatia and Scythia, from the northern frontiers of China, marched upon Germany, the Germans, pressed by these new invaders, threw themselves upon the Roman provinces, to conquer possessions where they might establish themselves in perpetuity. Rome then fought in defence; the struggle was protracted; the skill and courage of some of the Emperors for a long time opposed a powerful barrier; but the Barbarians were the ultimate conquerors, because it was imperative on them to win the victory, and their swarms of warriors were inexhaustible. The Visigoths, the Alani, and the Suevi established themselves in the South, of Gaul and Spain; the Vandals passed over into Africa; the Huns occupied the banks of the Danube; the Ostrogoths founded their kingdom in Italy; the Franks in the North of Gaul; Rome ceased to call herself the mistress of Europe; Constantinople does not apply to our present subject.
Those nations of the East and the North who transported themselves in a mass into the countries where they were destined to found States, the more durable because they conquered not to extend but to establish themselves, were barbarians, such as the Romans themselves had long remained. Force was their law, savage independence their delight; they were free because none of them had ever thought or believed that men as strong as themselves would submit to their domination; they were brave because courage with them was a necessity; they loved war because war brings occupation without labour; they desired lands because these new possessions supplied them with a thousand novel sources of enjoyment, which they could indulge in while giving themselves up to idleness. They had chiefs because men leagued together always have leaders, and because the bravest, ever held in high consideration, soon become the most powerful, and bequeath to their descendants a portion of their own personal influence. These chiefs became kings; the old subjects of Rome, who at first had only been called upon to receive, to lodge, and feed their new masters, were soon compelled to surrender to them a portion of their estates; and as the labourer, as well as the plant, attaches himself to the soil that nourishes him, the lands and the labourers became the property of these turbulent and lazy owners. Thus feudalism was established,—not suddenly, not by an express convention between the chief and his followers, not by an immediate and regular division of the conquered country amongst the conquerors, but by degrees, after long years of uncertainty, by the simple force of circumstances, as must always happen when conquest is followed by transplantation and continued possession.
We should be wrong in supposing that the barbarians were destitute of all moral convictions. Man, in that early epoch of civilization, does not reflect upon what we call duties; but he knows and respects, amongst his fellow-beings, certain rights, some traces of which are discoverable even under the empire of the most absolute force. A simple code of justice, often violated, and cruelly avenged, regulates the simple intercourse of associated savages. The Germans, unacquainted with any other laws or ties, found themselves suddenly transported into the midst of an order of things founded on different ideas, and demanding different restrictions. This gave them no trouble; their passage was too rapid to enable them to ascertain and supply what was deficient in their legislature and policy. Bestowing little thought on their new subjects, they continued to follow the same principles and customs which recently, in the forests of Germany, had regulated their conduct and decided their quarrels. Thus the conquered people were, at first, more forgotten than vanquished, more despised than oppressed; they constituted the mass of the nation, and this mass found itself controlled without being reduced to servitude, because they were not thought of, and because the conquerors never suspected that they could possess rights which they feared to defend. From thence sprang, in the sequel, that long disorder at the commencement of the Middle Ages, during which everything was isolated, fortuitous, and partial; hence also proceeded the absolute separation between the nobles and the people, and those abuses of the feudal system which only became portions of a system when long possession had caused to be looked upon as a right, what at first was only the produce of conquest and chance.
The clergy alone, to whom the conversion of the victors afforded the means of acquiring a power so much the greater that its force and extent could only be judged by the opinion it directed, maintained their privileges, and secured their independence. The religion which the Germans embraced became the only channel through which they derived new ideas, the sole point of contact between them and the inhabitants of their adopted country. The clergy, at first, thought only of their own interest; in this mode of communication, all the immediate advantages of the invasion of the barbarians were reaped by them for themselves. The liberal and beneficent influences of Christianity expanded slowly; that of religious animosity and theological dispute was the first to make itself felt. It was only in the class occupied by those dissensions, and excited by those rancorous feelings, that energetic men were yet to be found in the Roman Empire; religious sentiments and duties had revived, in hearts penetrated with their importance, a degree of zeal long extinguished. St. Athanasius and St. Ambrose had alone resisted Constantine and Theodosius; their successors were the sole opponents who withstood the barbarians. This gave rise to the long empire of spiritual power, sustained with devotion and perseverance, and so weakly or fruitlessly assailed. We may say now, without fear, that the noblest characters, the men most distinguished by their ability or courage, throughout this period of misfortune and calamity, belonged to the ecclesiastical order; and no other epoch of history supplies, in such a remarkable manner, the confirmation of this truth, so honourable to human nature, and perhaps the most instructive of all others,—that the most exalted virtues still spring up and develope themselves in the bosom of the most pernicious errors.
To these general features, intended to depict the ideas, manners, and conditions of men during the Middle Ages, it would be easy to add others, not less characteristic, and infinitely more minute. We should find poetry and literature, those beautiful and delightful emanations of the mind, the seeds of which have never been choked by all the follies and miseries of humanity, take birth in the very heart of barbarism, and charm the barbarians themselves by a new species of enjoyment. We should find the source and true character of that poetical, warlike, and religious enthusiasm which created chivalry and the crusades. We should probably discover, in the wandering lives of the knights and crusaders, the reflected influence of the roving habits of the German hunters, of that propensity to remove, and that superabundance of population, which ever exist where social order is not sufficiently well regulated for man to feel satisfied with his condition and locality; and before laborious industry has taught him to compel the earth to supply him with certain and abundant subsistence. Perhaps, also, that principle of honour which inviolably attached the German barbarians to a leader of their own choice, that individual liberty of which it was the fruit, and which gives man such an elevated idea of his own individual importance; that empire of the imagination which obtains such control over all young nations, and induces them to attempt the first steps beyond physical wants and purely material incitements, might furnish us with the causes of the elevation, enthusiasm, and devotion which, sometimes detaching the nobles of the Middle Ages from their habitual rudeness, inspired them with the noble sentiments and virtues that even in the present day command our admiration. We should then feel little surprised at seeing barbarity and heroism united, so much energy combined with so much weakness, and the natural coarseness of man in a savage state blended with the most sublime aspirations of moral refinement.
It was reserved for the latter half of the fifteenth century to witness the birth of events destined to introduce new manners and a fresh order of politics into Europe, and to lead the world towards the direction it follows at present. Italy, we may say, discovered the civilization of the Greeks; the letters, arts, and ideas of that brilliant antiquity inspired universal enthusiasm. The long quarrels of the Italian Republics, after having forced men to display their utmost energy, made them also feel the necessity of a period of repose ennobled and charmed by the occupations of the mind. The study of classic literature supplied the means; they were seized with ardour. Popes, cardinals, princes, nobles, and men of genius gave themselves up to learned researches; they wrote to each other, they travelled to communicate their mutual labours, to discover, to read, and to copy ancient manuscripts. The discovery of printing came to render these communications easy and prompt; to make this commerce of the mind extended and prolific. No other event has so powerfully influenced human civilization. Books became a tribune from which the world was addressed. That world was soon doubled. The compass opened safe roads across the monotonous immensity of the seas. America was discovered; and the sight of new manners, the agitation of new interests which were no longer the trifling concerns of one town or castle with another, but the great transactions of mighty powers, changed entirely the ideas of individuals and the political intercourse of States.
The invention of gunpowder had already altered their military relations; the issue of battles no longer depended on the isolated bravery of warriors, but on the power and skill of leaders. It has not yet been sufficiently investigated to what extent this discovery has secured monarchical authority, and given rise to the balance of power.
Finally, the Reformation struck a deadly blow against spiritual supremacy, the consequences of which are attributable to the bold examination of the theological questions and political shocks which led to the separation of religious sects, rather than to the new dogmas adopted by the Reformers as the foundation of their belief.
Figure to yourselves, gentlemen, the effect which these united causes were calculated to produce in the midst of the fermentation by which the human species was at that time excited, in the progress of the superabundant energy and activity which characterized the Middle Ages. From that time, this activity, so long unregulated, began to organize itself and advance towards a defined object; this energy submitted to laws; isolation disappeared; the human race formed itself into one great body; public opinion assumed influence; and if an age of civil wars, of religious dissensions, presents the lengthened echo of that powerful shock which towards the end of the fifteenth century staggered Europe, under so many different forms, it is not the less to the ideas and discoveries which produced that blow that we are indebted for the two centuries of splendour, order, and peace during which civilization has reached the point where we find it in the present day.
This is not the place to follow the march of human nature during these two centuries. That history is so extensive, and composed of so many relations, alternately vast and minute, but always important; of so many events closely connected, brought about by causes so mixed together, and causes in their turn productive of such numerous effects, of so many different labours, that it is impossible to recapitulate them within a limited compass. Never have so many powerful and neighbouring States exercised upon each other such constant and complicated influence; never has their interior structure presented so many ramifications to study; never has the human mind advanced at once upon so many different roads; never have so many events, actors, and ideas been engaged in such an extended space, or produced such interesting and instructive results. Perhaps on some future occasion we may enter into this maze, and look for the clew to guide us through it. Called upon, at present, to study the first ages of modern history, we shall seek for their cradle in the forests of Germany, the country of our ancestors; after having drawn a picture of their manners, as complete as the number of facts which have reached our knowledge, the actual state of our information, and my efforts to reach that level will permit, we shall then cast a glance upon the condition of the Roman Empire at the moment when the barbarians invaded it to attempt establishment; after that we shall investigate the long struggles which ensued between them and Rome, from their irruption into the West and South of Europe, down to the foundation of the principal modern monarchies. This foundation will thus become for us a resting-point, from whence we shall depart again to follow the course of the history of Europe, which is in fact our own; for if unity, the fruit of the Roman dominion, disappeared with it, there are always, nevertheless, between the different nations which rose upon its ruins, relations so multiplied, so continued, and so important, that from them, in the whole of modern history taken together, an actual unity results which we shall be compelled to acknowledge. This task is enormous; and when we contemplate its full extent, it is impossible not to recoil before the difficulty. Judge then, gentlemen, whether I ought not to tremble at such an undertaking; but your indulgence and zeal will make up for the weakness of my resources: I shall be more than repaid if I am able to assist you in advancing even a few steps on the road which leads to truth!
No. IV.
The Abbé de Montesquiou to M. Guizot.
March 31st, 1815.
I am not, my dear Sir, so lost to my friends that I have forgotten their friendship: yours has had many charms for me. I do not reproach myself with the poor trick I have played you. Your age does not run a long lease with mine. We can only show the public the objects worthy of their confidence; and I congratulate myself with having left them an impression of you which will not readily be effaced. I have been less fortunate on my own account, and can only deplore that fatality which has triumphed over my convictions, my repugnances, and the immeasurable consolations which friendship has bestowed on me. Let my example be profitable to you on some future occasion. Give to public affairs the period of your strength, but not that which requires repose alone; the interval will be long enough, at your time of life, to enable you to arrive at much distinction. I shall enjoy it with the interest which you know I feel, and with all the warm feelings with which your attachment has inspired me. Present my respects to Madame Guizot; it is to her I offer my apologies for having disturbed her tranquillity. But I hope her infant will profit by the strong food we have already administered to it. Allow me to request some token of remembrance from her as well as from yourself, for all the sentiments of respect and friendship I have vowed to you for life.
The Abbé de Montesquiou to M. Guizot.
Plaisance, June 8th, 1816.
I was expecting to hear from you, my dear friend, with much impatience, and I now thank you sincerely for having written to me. It was not that I doubted your philosophy; you know that those who precede their age learn too soon the uncertainty of all human affairs; but I feared lest your taste for your early avocations might induce you to abandon public affairs, for which you have evinced such ready ability; and we are not rich enough to make sacrifices. I feel very happy at being satisfied on this point, and leave the rest to the caprices of that destiny which can scarcely be harsh towards you. You will be distinguished at the Council, as you have been in all other situations; and it must naturally follow, that the better you are known, your career will become the more brilliant and secure. Youth, which feels its power, ought always to say, with the Cardinal de Bernis, "My Lord, I shall wait." The more I see of France, the more I am impressed with the truth, that those who believe they have secured the State by compromising the royal authority in these distant departments, have committed a mistake. All that are honest and rational are royalists; but, thanks to our own dissensions, they no longer know how to show themselves such. They thought until then, that to serve the King was to do what he required through the voice of his ministers, and they have been lately told that this was an error, but they have been left in ignorance as to who are his Majesty's real organs. The enemies to our repose profit by this. The most absurd stories are propagated amongst the people, and all are the people at so great a distance. I can imagine that the character of these disturbers varies in our different provinces. In this, where we have no large towns, and no aristocracy, we lie at the mercy of all who pretend to know more than ourselves. Great credit thus attaches to the Half-pays, who, belonging more to the people than to any other class, and not being able to digest their last disappointment, trade upon it in every possible manner, and are always believed because they are the richest in their immediate locality. The gentlemen Deputies come next upon the list, estimating themselves as little proconsuls, disposing of all places, and setting aside prefects. Thus you see how little authority remains with the King, whose agents are masters and do nothing in his name. As to the administration of justice, you may readily suppose that no one thinks of it. The people are in want of bread; their harvest rots under continual rains; the roads are horrible, the hospitals in the greatest misery; nothing remains but dismissals, accusations, and deputations. If you could change them for a little royal authority, we might still see the end of our sufferings; but make haste, for when the month of October has arrived it will be too late.
Adieu, my dear friend, present my respects to Madame Guizot, and receive the fullest assurance of my good wishes.
No. V.
Fragments selected from a Pamphlet by M. Guizot, entitled 'Thoughts upon the Liberty of the Press,' 1814.
Many of the calamities of France, calamities which might be indefinitely prolonged if they were not attacked at their source, arise, as I have just said, from the ignorance to which the French people have been condemned as to the affairs and position of the State, to the system of falsehood adopted by a Government which required everything to be concealed, and to the indifference and suspicion with which this habitual deceit and falsehood had inspired the citizens. It is truth, therefore, which ought to appear in broad daylight; it is obscurity which ought to be dissipated, if we wish to re-establish confidence and revive zeal. It will not suffice that the intentions of Government should be good, or its words sincere; it is requisite that the people should be convinced of this, and should be supplied with the means of satisfying themselves. When we have been for a long time tricked by an impostor, we become doubtful even of an honest man; and all our proverbs on the melancholy suspicion of old age are founded on this truth ...
The nation, so long deceived, expects the truth from every quarter; at present, it has a hope of accomplishing this object. It demands it with anxiety from its representatives, its administrators, and from all who are believed capable of imparting it. The more it has been withheld up to this period, the more precious it will be considered. There will be this advantage, that it will be hailed with transport by the people as soon as they satisfy themselves that it may be trusted; and there will be a corresponding evil,—they will listen to it without fear, when they discover that they are left in freedom to deliver their opinions, and to labour openly in its support. No one questions the embarrassments which truth will dissipate, or the references it will supply. A nation from whom it has been sedulously withheld, soon believes that something hostile is in agitation, and recoils back into mistrust. But when the truth is openly manifested, when a Government displays a noble confidence in its own sentiments and in the good feeling of its subjects, this confidence excites theirs in return, and calls up all their zeal.... The French, certain to understand, and quick to utter truth, will soon abandon that injurious tendency to suspicion which leads them from all esteem for their head, and all devotion to the State. The most indifferent spirits will resume an interest in public affairs, when they discover that they can take a part in them; the most apprehensive will cease their fears when they cease to live in clouds; they will no longer be continually occupied in calculating how much they should reject out of the speeches that are addressed to them, the recitals delivered and the portions presented for investigation; or how much artifice, dangerous intention, or afterthought remains hidden in all that proceeds from the throne.... An extended liberty of the press can alone, while restoring confidence, give back that energy to the King and the people which neither can dispense with: it is the life of the soul that requires to be revived in the nation in which it has been extinguished by despotism; that life lies in the free action of the press, and thought can only expand and develope itself in full publicity. No one in France can longer dread the oppression under which we have lived for ten years; but if the want of action which weakness engenders were to succeed that which tyranny imposes;—if the weight of a terrible and mute agitation should be replaced only by the languor of repose, we should never witness a renewal in France of that national activity, that brave and generous disposition which makes many sacrifices to duty;—finally, of that confidence in the sovereign, the necessity of which will be more acknowledged every day. We should merely obtain from the nation a barren tranquillity, the insufficiency of which would compel recourse to measures evil in themselves, and very far removed from the paternal intentions of the King.
Let us, on the contrary, adopt a system of liberty and frankness; let truth circulate freely from the throne to the people, and from the people to the throne; let the paths be opened to those who ought to speak freely, and to others who desire to learn; we shall then see apathy dissipate, suspicion vanish, and loyalty become general and spontaneous, from the certainty of its necessity and usefulness.
Unfortunately, during the twenty-five years which have recently elapsed, we have so deplorably abused many advantages, that, at present, to name them suffices to excite the most deplorable apprehensions. We are not inclined to take into consideration the difference of the times, of situation, of the march of opinion, or of the temperament of men's minds: we look upon as always dangerous what has once proved fatal; we think and act as mothers might do, who, because they saw the infant fall, would prevent the youth from walking.... This inclination is general; we retrace it under every form; and those who have closely observed it will have little trouble in satisfying themselves that perfect liberty of the press, at least with regard to political questions, would, in the present day, be almost without danger. Those who fear it fancy themselves still at the beginning of the Revolution—at that epoch when all passions sought only to display themselves, when violence was the popular characteristic, and reason obtained only a contemptuous smile. Nothing can be more dissimilar than that time and the present; and, from the very cause that unlicensed freedom then gave rise to the most disastrous evils, we may infer, unless I deceive myself, that very few would now spring from the same source.
Nevertheless, as many people appear to dread such a result; as I am unwilling to affirm that the experiment might not be followed by certain inconveniences, more mischievous from the fear they would inspire than from the actual consequences they might introduce;—as in the state in which we find ourselves, without a guide in the experience of the past, or certain data for the future, it is natural that we should advance cautiously; and as the spirit of the nation seems to indicate that in every respect circumspection is necessary, the opinions of those who think that some restrictions should be imposed, ought, perhaps, to prevail. For twenty-five years the nation has been so utterly a stranger to habits of true liberty, it has passed through so many different forms of despotism, and the last was felt to be so oppressive, that, in restoring freedom, we may dread inexperience more than impetuosity; it would not dream of attack, but it might prove unequal to defence; in the midst of the necessity for order and peace which is universally felt, in the midst of a collision of opposing interests which must be carefully dealt with, Government may wish, and with reason, to avoid the appearance of clashing and disturbance, which might probably be without importance, but the danger of which would be exaggerated by imagination.
The question then reduces itself to this:—What are, under existing circumstances, the causes which call for a certain restraint in the liberty of the press? and by what restrictions, conformable to the nature of these causes, can we modify without destroying its freedom? and how shall we gradually remove these qualifications, for the present considered necessary?
All liberty is placed between oppression and license: the liberty of man in the social state is necessarily restrained by certain laws, the abuse or oblivion of which are equally dangerous; but the circumstances which expose society to either of these perils are different. In a well-established government, solidly constituted, the danger against which the friends of liberty have to contend is oppression: all is there combined for the maintenance of law; all tends to support vigorous discipline, against which every individual labours to retain the share of freedom which is his due; the function of government is to support order; that of the governed to watch over liberty.
The state of things is entirely different in a government only commencing. If it follows a period of misfortune and disturbance, during which morality and reason have been equally perverted,—when passions have been indulged without curb, when private interests have been paraded without shame,—then oppression falls within the number of dangers which are only to be anticipated, while license is that which must be directly opposed. Our Government has not yet attained its full strength; it is not yet possessed of all the means which are to be placed at its disposal to maintain order and rule: before acquiring all, it will be careful not to abuse any; and the governed, who are still without some of the advantages of order, wish to possess all those of confusion. They are not yet sufficiently sure of their own tranquillity, to abstain from attacking that of others. Every one is ready to inflict the blow he is exposed to receive; we offend with impunity the laws which have not yet foreseen all the methods that may be adopted to elude them; we brave without danger the authorities which cannot yet appeal, in their own support, to the experience of the happiness enjoyed under their auspices. It is, then, against particular attempts that constant watch should be kept; thus it becomes necessary to protect liberty from the outrages of license, and sometimes to prevent a strong government from being reduced to defence when uncertain of commanding obedience.
Thus, unrestricted liberty of the press, without detrimental consequences in a state of government free, happy, and strongly constituted, might prove injurious under a system only commencing, and in which the citizens have still to acquire liberty and prosperity. In the first case there is no danger in allowing freedom of thought and utterance to all, because, if the order of things is good, the great majority of the members of society will be disposed to support it, and also because the nation, enlightened by its actual happiness, will not be easily drawn to the pursuit of something always represented as better, but ever uncertain of acquirement. In the second case, on the contrary, the passions and interests of many individuals, differing in themselves, and all, more or less, abstracted from any feeling for the public good, are neither instructed by prosperity nor enlightened by experience; there exist therefore in the nation very few barriers against the plotters of evil, while in the government there are many gaps through which disorder may introduce itself: every species of ambition revives, and none can tell on what point to settle; all seek their place, without being sure of finding it; common sense, which invents nothing, but knows how to select, has no fixed rule upon which to act; the bewildered multitude, who are directed by nothing and have not yet learned to direct themselves, know not what guide to follow; and in the midst of so many contradictory ideas, and incapable of separating truth from falsehood, the least evil that can happen is, that they may determine to remain in their ignorance and stupidity. While information is still so sparingly disseminated, the license of the press becomes an important obstacle to its progress; men, little accustomed to reason upon certain matters, and poor in positive knowledge, adopt too readily the errors which are propagated from every quarter, and find it difficult to distinguish readily the truth when presented to them; thence originate a host of false and crude notions, a multiplicity of judgments adopted without examination, and a pretended acquirement, the more mischievous as, occupying the place which reason alone should hold, it for a long time interdicts her approach.
The Revolution has proved to us the danger arising from knowledge so erroneously obtained. From this danger we are now called on to protect ourselves. It is better to confess the fact: we have learned wisdom from misfortune; but the despotism of the last ten years has extinguished, for the greater part of the French people, the light we might thence have derived. Some individuals, undoubtedly, have continued to reflect, to observe, and to study—they have been instructed by the very despotism which oppressed them; but the nation in general, crushed and unfortunate, has found itself arrested in the development of its intellectual faculties. When we look closely into the fact, we feel surprised and almost ashamed of our national thoughtlessness and ignorance; we feel the necessity of emerging from it. The most oppressive yoke alone was able to reduce, and could again reduce it for a certain time to silence and inaction; but it requires to be propped and guided, and, after so much experimental imprudence, for the interest even of reason and knowledge, the liberty of the press, which we have never yet enjoyed, ought to be attempted with caution.
Regarded in this point of view, the restrictions which may be applied will less startle the friends of truth and justice; they will see in them nothing more than a concession to existing circumstances, dictated solely by the interest of the nation; and if care is taken to limit this concession so that it may never become dangerous; if, in establishing a barrier against license, a door is always left open for liberty; if the object of these restrictions is evidently to prepare the French people to dispense with them, and to arrive hereafter at perfect freedom; if they are so combined and modified that the liberty may go on increasing until the nation becomes more capable of enjoying it profitably;—finally, if, instead of impeding the progress of the human mind, they are only calculated to assure it, and to direct the course of the most enlightened spirits;—so far from considering them as an attack upon the principles of justice, we shall see in them a measure of prudence, a guarantee for public order, and a new motive for hoping that the overthrow of that order will never again occur to disturb or retard the French nation in the career of truth and reason.
No. VI.
Report to the King, and Royal Decree for the Reform of Public Instruction, February 17th, 1815.
Louis, by the grace of God, King of France and Navarre, to all who may receive these presents, they come greeting.
Having had an account delivered to us, of the state of public instruction in our kingdom, we have observed that it rested upon institutions destined to advance the political views of the Government which had formed them, rather than to extend to our subjects the advantages of moral education, conformable with the necessities of the age. We have rendered justice to the wisdom and zeal of all who were appointed to watch over and direct instruction. We have seen with satisfaction that they have never ceased to struggle against the obstacles which the times opposed to them, and also to the institutions which they were called to put in force. But we have felt the necessity of reforming these institutions, and of bringing back national education to its true object; which is, to disseminate sound doctrines, to maintain good manners, and to train men who, by their knowledge and virtue, may communicate to society the profitable lessons and wise examples they have received from their masters.
We have maturely considered these institutions, which we now propose to reform; and it appears to us that a system of single and absolute authority is incompatible with our paternal intentions and with the liberal spirit of our government;
That this authority, essentially occupied in the direction of the whole, was to a certain extent condemned to be in ignorance or neglectful of those details of daily examination, which can only be intrusted to local supervisors better informed as to the necessities, and more directly interested in the prosperity of the establishments committed to their charge;
That the right of nomination to all these situations, concentrated in the hands of a single person, left too much opening for error, and too much influence to favour, weakening the impulse of emulation, and reducing the teachers to a state of dependence ill suited to the honourable post they occupied, and to the importance of their functions;
That this dependence and the too frequent removals which are the inevitable result, rendered the position of the teachers uncertain and precarious; was injurious to the consideration they ought to enjoy to induce them to work zealously in their laborious vocations; and prevented, between them and the relations of their pupils, that confidence which results from long service and old habits; and thus deprived them of the most gratifying reward they could attain—the respect and affection of the countries to which they have dedicated their talents and their lives;
Finally, that the tax of one-twentieth of the costs of instruction, levied upon all the pupils of the lyceums, colleges, and schools, and applied to expenses from which those who pay it derive no immediate advantage, and which charges may be considerably reduced, are in opposition to our desire of favouring good and profitable studies, and of extending the benefits of education to all classes of our subjects.
Wishing to enable ourselves, as soon as possible, to lay before the two Chambers the bills which are intended to establish the system of public instruction throughout France, and to provide for the necessary expenses, we have resolved to establish provisionally the reforms best adapted to supply the experience and information which we still require, to accomplish this object; and in place of the tax of one-twentieth on the costs of instruction, the abolition of which we are not inclined to defer, it has pleased us to appropriate, from our Civil List, the sum of one million, which will be employed during the present year, 1815, for the use of public instruction in this our kingdom.
For these reasons, and on the report of our Minister the Secretary of State for the Department of the Interior, and by and with the advice of our Council of State, we have decreed, and do decree, as follows:—
Title I.
General Arrangements.
Article 1. The divisions arranged under the name of Academies by the decree of the 17th of May, 1808, are reduced to seventeen, conformably to the table at present annexed. They will assume the title of Universities.
The Universities will be named after the Head Town assigned to each.
The Lyceums at present established will be called Royal Colleges.
2. Each University will be composed, first, of a council, presided over by a rector; secondly, of faculties; thirdly, of colleges; fourthly, of district colleges.
3. The mode of teaching and discipline in all the Universities will be regulated and superintended by a Royal Council of Public Instruction.
4. The Normal School of Paris will be common to all the Universities; it will provide, at the expense of the State, the number of professors and masters which may be required to give instruction in science and literature.
Title II.
Respecting the Universities.
Section 1.
The Councils of the Universities.
5. The Council of each University will consist of a presiding rector, of the deans of faculty, of the provost of the royal college of the Head Town, or of the oldest provost if there are more than one royal college; and of at least three of the principal inhabitants, selected by our Royal Council of Public Instruction.
6. The bishop and prefect will be members of this council, and will have votes in the meetings, above the rector.
7. The council of the University can visit, whenever they consider it proper to do so, the royal and district colleges, the institutes, boarding-schools, and other seminaries of instruction, through two appointed inspectors; who will report on the state of teaching and discipline within the jurisdiction of the University, according to the instructions delivered to them.
The number of inspectors for the University of Paris may amount to six.
8. The council will select each of these inspectors from two candidates recommended by the rector.
9. The council will also select, each from two candidates recommended by the rector, the provosts, the censors or inspectors of studies, the professors of philosophy, rhetoric, and higher mathematics, the chaplains, and bursars of the royal colleges.
10. The inspectors of the Universities will be selected from the provosts, the superintendent-masters, the professors of philosophy, rhetoric, and mathematics of the royal colleges, and from the head masters of the district colleges; the superintendent-masters in the royal colleges will be chosen from the professors of philosophy, rhetoric, or superior mathematics in the same colleges.
11. The council of the University can revoke, if they see cause, any appointment they may make: in these cases their resolutions must be notified and accounted for, and cannot take effect until sanctioned by our Royal Council of Public Instruction.
12. No one can establish an institution or a boarding-school, or become head of an institution or a boarding-school already established, without having been previously examined and duly qualified by the council of the University, and unless their qualification has been approved of by the Royal Council of Public Instruction.
13. The council of the University will examine and decide on the accounts of the faculties, and of the royal colleges; they will also examine the accounts of general expenditure handed in by the rector, and, after having decided on them, will transmit the same to our Royal Council of Public Instruction.
14. The council will keep a registry of its proceedings, and will forward a copy once a month to our Royal Council.
15. In public ceremonies, the council will rank after the Council of Prefecture.
Section 2.
Of the Rectors of Universities.
16. The rectors of the Universities are appointed by us, each selected from three candidates presented by our Royal Council of Public Instruction, and chosen from rectors already appointed, from inspectors-general of study, of whom we shall speak hereafter, from the professors of faculty, the professors of the Universities, the provosts, the censors, and the professors of philosophy, rhetoric, and superior mathematics in the royal colleges.
17. The rectors of the Universities appoint the professors, doctors of faculty, and masters in all the colleges, with the exception of the professors of philosophy, rhetoric, and superior mathematics in the royal colleges, who are appointed as already named in Article 9.
18. The rectors will select the candidates from amongst the professors, doctors of faculty, and masters already employed in the old or new establishments of education, or from the pupils of the Normal School, who, having completed their courses, have received the degree of Professor-Substitute.
19. The professors and doctors of faculty thus appointed can only be removed by the council of the University upon the explained proposition of the rector.
20. The professors and doctors of faculty, appointed by one or more rectors, not being those of the Universities in which they are actually employed, can choose the University and select the employment they may prefer; but they are bound to notify their decision, one month before the commencement of the scholastic year, to the rector of the University to which they belong.
21. The pupils of the Normal School selected by rectors not belonging to the University from whence they were sent, have the same privilege of option, on giving similar notice.
22. The rector of the University will preside, whenever he thinks proper, at the examinations which precede the conferring of degrees in the different faculties.
23. The rector has the entire charge of correspondence.
24. He will lay before the council of the University all matters that require to be submitted to them, appoint the reporters, if necessary, regulate the order of discussion, and sign the resolutions.
25. If opinions are equally divided, he has the casting vote.
Section 3.
Of the Faculties.
26. The number and composition of the Faculties in each University are settled by us, on the proposition of our Royal Council of Public Instruction.
27. The faculties are placed immediately under the authority, direction, and supervision of that Council.
28. The Council appoints their deans, each from two candidates, who will be nominated for selection.
29. It appoints the professors for life, each from four candidates, two of whom must be presented by the faculty in which a chair has become vacant, and the other two by the council of the University.
30. Over and above the special teaching with which they are charged, the faculties will confer, after examination, and according to the established rules, the degrees which are or may become necessary for the various ecclesiastical, political, and civil functions and professions.
31. The diplomas of degrees are issued in our name, signed by the dean, and countersigned by the rector, who can refuse his visa if he has reason to think that the prescribed conditions have not been correctly observed.
32. In the Universities which as yet have no faculties of science or literature, the degree of Bachelor in Letters may be conferred after the prescribed examinations by the provost, the inspector of studies, and the professors of philosophy and rhetoric of the royal college of the Head Town of the district. The inspector of studies will perform the functions of dean; he will sign the diplomas, and will take his place in the sittings of the councils of the University, after the provost.
Section 4.
Of the Royal and District Colleges.
33. The Royal Colleges are governed by a provost, and the District Colleges by a principal.
34. The provosts and principals will execute and cause to be executed the regulations regarding instruction, discipline, and compatibility.
35. The administration of the royal college of the Head Town is placed under the immediate superintendence of the rector and the council of the University.
36. All the other colleges, royal or provincial, are placed under the immediate superintendence of a committee of administration composed of the sub-prefect, the mayor, and at least three of the principal inhabitants of the place, appointed by the council of the University.
37. This committee will propose, in each case, two candidates to the rector, who will select from them the principals of the local colleges.
38. The principals, thus appointed, can only be removed by the council of the University, upon the proposition of the committee, and by the decision of the rector.
39. The Committee of Administration will examine and decide on the accounts of the local colleges.
40. The Committee will also examine and decide on the accounts of the royal colleges, except only on those of the royal college of the Head Town, and will transmit them to the council of the University.
41. The Committee will also keep a register of its proceedings, and transmit the same once in every month to the council of the University.
42. The president of this Committee will be the sub-prefect, or, in his absence, the mayor.
43. The bishops and prefects are members of all the Committees in their diocese or department; and when present they will have votes above the presidents.
44. The heads of institutions and masters of boarding-schools established within the boundaries of cities or towns in which there are either royal or local colleges, are required to send their boarders as day-scholars to the classes of the said colleges.
45. The second Ecclesiastical School which has been or may be established in each department, in virtue of our decree of ..., is excepted from this obligation: but the said school cannot receive day-scholars of any description.
Title III.
Of the Normal School.
46. Each University will send, every year, to the Normal School at Paris, a number of pupils proportioned to the necessities of education.
This number will be regulated by our Royal Council of Public Instruction.
47. The council of the University will select these pupils from those who, having finished their courses in rhetoric and philosophy, are intended, with the consent of their relatives, for public teachers.
48. The pupils sent to the Normal School will remain there three years, after which they will be examined by our Royal Council of Public Instruction, who will deliver to them, on approbation, the brevet of Professor-Substitute.
49. The pupils who have received this brevet, if not summoned by the rector of other Universities, will return to that to which they originally belonged, where they will be placed by the rector, and advanced according to their capacity and services.
50. The head master of the Normal School will hold the same rank, and exercise the same prerogatives, with the rectors of the Universities.
Title IV.
Of the Royal Council of Public Instruction.
51. Our Royal Council of Public Instruction will be composed of a president and eleven councillors appointed by us.
52. Two of this number will be selected from the clergy, two from our State Council, or from the Courts, and the seven others from individuals who have become eminent for their talents or services in the cause of public instruction.
53. The president of our Royal Council is alone charged with the correspondence; he will introduce all subjects of discussion to the Council, name the reporters, if necessary, establish the order of debate, sign and despatch the resolutions, and see them carried into effect.
54. In case of an equal division of opinions, he will have the casting vote.
55. Conformably with Article 3 of the present decree, our Royal Council will prepare, arrange, and promulgate the general regulations concerning instruction and discipline.
56. The Council will prescribe the execution of these rules to all the Universities, and will watch over them through [the] Inspectors-General of Studies, who will visit the Universities whenever directed by the Council to do so, and will report on the state of all the schools.
57. The number of the Inspectors will be twelve; that is to say, two for the faculties of law, two for those of medicine, and the remaining eight for the faculties of science and literature and for the royal and local colleges.
58. The Inspectors-General of Studies will be appointed by us, each being selected from three candidates proposed by our Royal Council of Public Instruction, and who will have been chosen from amongst the rectors and inspectors of the Universities, the deans of faculty, the provosts, the censors of study, and the professors of philosophy, rhetoric, and superior mathematics in the royal colleges.
59. On the report of the Inspectors-General of Studies, our Royal Council will give such instructions to the councils of the Universities as may appear essential; they will detect abuses, and provide the necessary reforms.
60. The Council will furnish us with an annual account of the state of public instruction throughout our kingdom.
61. It will propose all such measures as may be considered suitable to advance instruction, and for which it may be requisite to appeal to our authority.
62. It will induce and encourage the production of such books as may still be wanting for general purposes of education, and will decide on those which are to be preferred.
63. It will remove, if necessary, the deans of faculty, and will propose to us the removal of the rectors of Universities.
64. It will examine and decide on the accounts of the general administration of the Universities.
65. The Normal School is placed under the special authority of the Royal Council; the Council can either appoint or remove the administrators and masters of that establishment.
66. The Council holds the same rank with our Court of Appeal and Court of Accounts, and will take place, in all public ceremonies, immediately after the last-named.
67. It will keep a registry of all its proceedings, and will deposit a copy with our Minister the Secretary of State for the department of the Interior, who will furnish us with an account of the same, and on whose report we shall exercise the right of reforming or annulling them.
Title V.
Of Receipts and Expenses.
68. The tax of one-twentieth on the expenses of studies, imposed upon the pupils of colleges and schools, is abolished from the date of the publication of the present decree.
69. Excepting always: 1. The charges for terms, examinations, and degrees, applied to the benefit of the faculties; 2. The subscriptions paid by the pupils of the royal and local colleges for the advantage of those establishments; 3. The annual contributions of the heads of seminaries and boarding-schools, for the use of the Universities.
70. The townships will continue to supply the funds for scholars on the foundation, and the sums they have hitherto contributed under the title of help to their colleges: with this object, the total of these sums, as also of the burses, will be included in their respective budgets with the fixed expenses; and no deviation whatever from this will take place, unless previously submitted to our Royal Council of Instruction.
71. The townships will also continue to supply and keep in repair the buildings requisite for the Universities, the faculties, and colleges.
72. The councils of the Universities will settle the budgets for the colleges and faculties.
73. The faculties and royal colleges, of which the receipts exceed the expenses, will apply the surplus to the treasury of the University.
74. The councils of the universities will receive the annual contributions of the heads of seminaries and boarding schools.
75. They will manage the property belonging to the University of France situated in the district of each provincial university, and will collect the revenue.
76. In case the receipts of the faculties, or those assigned for the expenses of general administration, should prove inadequate, the councils of the universities will make a distinct requisition, and will state the sums required to replace each deficiency.
77. This requisition will be addressed to our Royal Council of Public Instruction, who will transmit it, with suggestions, to our Minister the Secretary of State for the department of the Interior.
78. The expenses of the faculties and Universities, as settled by our Minister the Secretary of State for the department of the Interior, will be paid on his order from our Royal Treasury.
79. There will also be paid from our Royal Treasury, in like manner—1, the expenses of our Royal Council of Public Instruction; 2, those of the Normal School; 3, the Royal donations.
80. For these purposes the annual income of 400,000 francs, forming the appanage of the University of France, is placed at the disposal of our Minister the Secretary of State for the department of the Interior.
81. Further, and in provisional replacement of the tax abolished by Art. 68 of this present Decree, our Minister the Secretary of State for the department of the Interior, is authorized by us for the promotion of public instruction in our kingdom, during the year 1815, to apply to the Minister of our Household, who will place at his disposal the sum of one million, to be deducted from the funds of our Civil List.
82. The funds proceeding from the reduction of one twenty-fifth of the appointments in the University of France, will be applied to retiring pensions; our Royal Council is charged to propose to us the most eligible mode of appropriating this fund, and also to suggest the means of securing a new one for the same purpose, in all the universities.
Title VI.
Temporary Arrangements.
83. The members of our Royal Council of Public Instruction, who are to be selected in conformity with Art. 52, the inspectors-general of studies, the rectors and inspectors of universities, will be appointed by us, in the first instance, from amongst all those who have been or are now actually employed in the different educational establishments.
The conditions of eligibility settled by that Article, as also by Articles 10, 16, and 58, apply to situations which may hereafter become vacant.
84. The members of suppressed universities and societies, who have taken degrees as professors in the old faculties, or who have filled the posts of superiors and principals of colleges, or chairs of philosophy or rhetoric, as also councillors, inspectors-general, rectors and inspectors of academies, and professors of faculties in the University of France, who may find themselves out of employment by the effect of the present decree, are eligible to all places whatever.
85. The fixed salaries of the deans and professors of faculties, and those of the provosts, inspectors of studies, and professors in the Royal colleges are not to be altered.
86. The deans and professors of the faculties that will be continued, the provosts and doctors of faculty of the district colleges at present in office, are to retain the same rights and privileges, and will be subject to the same regulations of repeal, as if they had been appointed in pursuance of the present decree.
We hereby inform and command our courts, tribunals, prefects, and administrative bodies to publish and register these presents wherever they may deem it necessary to do so. Moreover we direct our attorneys-general and prefects to see that this is done, and to certify the same; that is to say, the courts and tribunals to our Chancellor, and the prefects to our Minister the Secretary of State for the department of the Interior.
Given at Paris, in our Castle of the Tuileries, February 17, in the year of grace 1815, and in the twentieth of our reign.
(Signed) Louis.
By the King; the Minister Secretary of State for the Interior.
(Signed) The Abbé de Montesquiou.
No. VII.
Note drawn up and laid before the King and Council [in] August 1816, on the question of dissolving the Chamber of 1815; by M. Lainé, Minister of the Interior.
It being considered probable that the King may be obliged to dissolve the Chamber after its assembly, let us consider what will be the consequences.
Dissolution during the session is an extreme measure. It is a sort of appeal made in the midst of passions in full conflict. The causes which lead to it, the feelings of resentment to which it will give rise, will spread throughout France.
The convocation of a new Chamber will require much time, and will render it almost impossible to introduce a budget this year. To hold back the budget until the first month of the year ensuing, is to run the risk of seeing the deficit increase and the available resources disappear.
This would in all probability render us incapable of paying the foreigners.
After such an unusual dissolution, justified by the danger which the Chamber may threaten, it is difficult to suppose that the electoral assemblies would be tranquil. And if agitation should exhibit itself, the return of the foreigners is to be apprehended from that cause. The dread of this consequence, in either case, will induce the King to hesitate; and whatever attempts may be made to disturb the public peace or to assail the Royal authority, his Majesty's heart, in the hope that such evils would be merely transitory, will decide with reluctance on such an extreme remedy as dissolution.
If then, the necessity of dissolving the Chamber becomes pressing, will it not be better, before it meets, to adopt means of preserving us from this menacing disaster?
The renewal of one-fifth of the members, which, under any circumstances, seems to me indispensable to carry out the Charter, and which I regret to say we too much neglected in the month of July 1815, will scarcely diminish the probable necessity of dissolution.
The members returned for the fourth series are, with a few exceptions, moderate; they have no disposition whatever to disturb public repose, or interfere with the Royal prerogative, which alone can maintain order by giving confidence to all classes. The other four-fifths remain unchanged; the apprehended dangers are consequently as imminent.
This consideration induces me to recommend the adoption of a measure which might facilitate a complete return to the Charter, by recalling the decree of the 13th of July, which infringed it in the articles of age and number, and has also reduced to problems many more of its conditions.
This measure would be to summon, by royal letters, only such deputies as have reached the age of forty, and according to the number stipulated in the Charter.
To effect this, we should choose the deputies who have been first named in each electoral college. We should thus pay a compliment to the electors by summoning those who appear to hold the most distinguished places in their confidence.
It is true it will be said that the Chamber not being dissolved, the present deputies have a kind of legal possession.
But the electors and the deputies they have chosen, only hold their power from the Decree.
The same authority which conferred that power can recall it by revoking the Decree.
The King in his opening speech appeared to say that it was only owing to an extraordinary circumstance that he had assembled round the throne a greater number of deputies. That extraordinary circumstance has passed away. Peace is made, order is re-established, the Allies have retired from the heart of France and from the Capital.
This idea furnishes an answer to the objection that the operations of the Chamber are nullified.
The King had the power of making it what it is, in consequence of existing circumstances.
The Chamber of Deputies does not alone make the laws. The Chamber of Peers, and the King, who in France is the chief branch of the legislative body, have co-operated in that enactment.
If this objection could hold good in the present case, it would equally hold good in all the rest. In fact, either after the dissolution, or under any other circumstances, the King will return to the Charter, in regard to age and number. On this hypothesis, it might be said that the operations of the existing Chamber are nullified. Article 14 of the Charter could always be explained by the extraordinary circumstances, and its complete re-establishment by the most sacred motives. To return to the Charter without dissolution is not then to nullify the operations of the Chamber more than to return to the Charter after dissolution.
Will it be said that the King is not more certain of a majority after the proposed reduction than at present? I reply that the probability is greatly increased.
An assembly less numerous will be more easily managed; reason will be more readily attended to. The Royal authority which is exercised in the reduction will be increased and secured.
Again, in the event of a dissolution, would the King be more certain of a majority? How many chances are against this! On one side the ultras, whose objection to transfer a portion of the Royal authority to what they call the aristocracy, occupy nearly all the posts which influence the operations of the electoral assemblies. On the other, they will be vehemently opposed by the partisans of a popular liberty not less hostile to the Kingly power. The struggles which will take place at the electoral assemblies, will be repeated in the Chamber, and what description of majority will emanate from such a contest?
If the plan of reduction appears inadmissible;—if on the other hand, it should be decided that the hostile spirit of the Chamber compels the dissolution after convocation;—I should not hesitate to prefer immediate dissolution to the danger which seems so likely to arise from dissolution after assembly.
But if immediate dissolution were to lead to the forming of a new Chamber animated by the same spirit and views, it would then become necessary to find remedies, to preserve the Royal authority, and to save France from the presence of foreigners.
The first method would be to sacrifice the Ministers, who are ready to lay down their places and their lives to preserve the King and France.
The above notes are exclusively founded on the probable necessity of dissolution after the Chamber is convoked.
This measure will become necessary if, under the pretext of amendments, the King's wishes are trifled with; if the budget should be thrown out, or too long delayed; or if the amendments or propositions are of a nature to alarm the country, and in consequence to call in the foreigners.
The customs adopted during the last session, the bills announced, the acrimony exhibited, the evidences we have thence derived, the hostility already prepared by ambitious disturbers, the determination evinced to weaken the Kingly authority by declaiming against the modified centralization of government, all supply powerful reasons for expecting the probable occurrences which will necessitate the dissolution of the Chamber.
Taking another view, it ought not to be easily believed that a few misguided Frenchmen, compromising the fortune of their country by continuing to oppose the Royal authority, may go the length of exposing themselves to the double scourge of foreign invasion and civil war, or that they be content with the loss of certain provinces through imprudent propositions, legally unjust, or....
Are we permitted to hope that in presenting such bills as religion and devotion to the King and the country may inspire us to frame, these bills will not be rejected?
Shall we be enabled to draw up these bills in such a manner as to convince the Session and the world that malevolent opposition alone can defeat them?
Notwithstanding the great probabilities that the dissolution may become necessary, the danger would be less formidable, if the King, at the opening of the session, were to express his wishes energetically; if he were to issue previous decrees, revoking all that has not been yet carried out in the Decrees of July 1815; if, above all, after having declared his will by solemn acts, his Majesty would firmly repeat those acts in the the immediate vicinity of the throne, by removing from his person all those who might be inclined to misrepresent or oppose his wishes.
To avoid resistance and contest, would the following plan be available?
When the bills, the decrees, and the other regulations are ready, would it be suitable for the King to hold an Extraordinary Council, to which he should summon the Princes of the Royal family, the Archbishop of Rheims, etc. Let all the bills to be brought forward be discussed and settled in that Council, and let the Princes and the chief Bishops declare which of these are to be adopted by unanimous consent. If, after this Council, all the great and influential personages summoned by his Majesty were to announce that such was the common wish of the King and the whole of the Royal family, France would perhaps be saved.
But the great remedy lies in the King's pleasure. Let that once be manifested, and let its execution be recommended by his Majesty to all who surround him, and the danger disappears.
"Domine dic tantum verbum, et sanabitur Gallia tua!"
No. VIII.
Correspondence between the Viscount de Châteaubriand, the Count Decazes, Minister of General Police, and M. Dambray, Chancellor of France, on occasion of the seizure of 'Monarchy according to the Charter,' in consequence of an infraction of the laws and regulations relative to printing. September, 1816.
1. Official Report of the Seizure.
October 19th, 1816.
On the 18th of September, in execution of the warrant of his Excellency, dated on that day, authorizing the seizure of a work entitled, 'Of Monarchy according to the Charter,' by M. de Châteaubriand, printed by Le Normant, Rue de Seine, No. 8, and which work had been on sale without the deposit of five copies having been made at the office for the general regulation of the book-trade, I went, with Messrs. Joly and Dussiriez, peace-officers and inspectors, to the house of the abovenamed M. Le Normant, where we arrived before ten o'clock in the morning.
M. Le Normant admitted to us that he had given notice of the work of M. de Châteaubriand, but that he had not yet deposited the five copies. He affirmed that on the same morning, at nine o'clock, he had sent to the office for the general regulation of bookselling, but that he was told that the office was not open. Of this he produced no proof.
He admitted that he had printed two thousand copies of this work, intending to make a fresh declaration, the first having only been for fifteen hundred copies; that he had delivered several hundreds copies to the author; that, finally, he had transmitted others on sale to the principal booksellers of the Palais-Royal, Delaunay, Petit, and Fabre.
While I was drawing up a report of these facts and statements, M. de Wilminet, peace-officer, came in with an individual in whose hands he had seen, near the Bridge of the Arts, the work now in question, at the moment when the person, who says his name is Derosne, was looking over the title. M. Derosne has admitted that he bought it for four francs, on the same day, the 18th, at about nine and a half in the morning. This copy has been deposited in our hands, and M. Le Normant has reimbursed the cost to M. Derosne.
We seized, in the second warehouse on the first floor, thirty stitched copies which we added to that of M. Derosne. In the workshops on the ground-floor, I seized a considerable quantity of printed sheets of the same work, which M. Le Normant estimates at nine thousand sheets; and thirty-one printing-forms which had been used for printing these sheets.
As it was sufficiently proved, both by facts and the admissions of the printer, that the work had been offered for sale before the five copies were deposited, we took possession of the stitched copies, the sheets, and the forms. The sheets were subsequently piled up in a carriage in the courtyard, and the stitched volumes made into a parcel, were deposited at the foot of the staircase at the entrance of the house. The forms, to the number of thirty-one, were placed under the steps of the garden, tied together with cord. Our seal had been already placed on the top, and M. de Wilminet prepared to affix it also on the lower parts. All this was done without the slightest disturbance or opposition, and with a perfect respect for the authorities.
Suddenly tumultuous cries were heard at the bottom of the entrance court. M. de Châteaubriand arrived at that moment, and questioned some workmen who surrounded him. His words were interrupted by cries of "Here is M. de Châteaubriand!" The workshops resounded with his name; all the labouring men came out in a crowd and ran towards the court, exclaiming, "Here is M. de Châteaubriand! M. de Châteaubriand!" I myself distinctly heard the cry of "Long live M. de Châteaubriand!"
At the same instant a dozen infuriated workmen arrived at the gate of the garden, where I then was with M. de Wilminet and two inspectors, engaged in finishing the seals on the forms. They broke the seals and prepared to carry off the forms; they cried loudly and with a threatening air, "Long live the liberty of the press! Long live the King!" We took advantage of a moment of silence to ask if any order had arrived to suspend our work. "Yes, yes, here is our order. Long live the liberty of the press!" cried they with violent insolence: "Long live the King!" They approached close to us to utter these cries. "Well" said I to them, "if there is such an order, so much the better; let it be produced;" and we all said together, "You shall not touch these forms, until we have seen the order." "Yes, yes," cried they again, "there is an order; it comes from M. de Châteaubriand, he is a Peer of France. An order from M. de Châteaubriand is worth more than one from the Minister." Then they repeated violently the cries of "Long live the liberty of the press! Long live the King!"
In the meantime, the peace-officers and inspectors continued to guard the articles seized or sequestered, and prevented their being carried off. They took the parcel of stitched copies from the hands of a workman who was bearing it away.
The peace-officer who was affixing the seals, being compelled by violence to suspend the operation, addressed M. de Châteaubriand, and asked him if he had an order from the Minister. He replied, with passion, that an order from the Minister was nothing to him; he came to oppose what was going on; he was a Peer of France, the defender of the Charter, and particularly forbade anything to be taken away. "Moreover," he added, "this proceeding is useless and without object; I have distributed fifteen thousand copies of this work through all the different departments." The workmen then repeated that the order of M. de Châteaubriand was worth more than that of the Minister, and renewed, more violently than before, their cries of "Long live the liberty of the press! M. de Châteaubriand for ever! Long live the King!"
The peace-officer was surrounded. A man of colour, appearing much excited, said to him violently, "The order of M. de Châteaubriand is worth more than that of the Minister." Tumultuous cries were renewed round the peace-officer. I left the garden, leaving the forms in charge of the inspectors, to advance towards that side. During my passage, several workmen shouted violently, "Long live the King!" I held out my hand as a sign of peace, to keep at a respectful distance those who were disposed to come too near; and replied by the loyal cry of "Long live the King!" to the same shout uttered in a seditious spirit by the bewildered workmen.
M. de Châteaubriand was at this time in the entrance court, apparently intent on preventing the carriage laden with the sheets of his work from departing for its destination. I ascended the staircase for the purpose of signifying to M. Le Normant that it would be better for him to second my orders by using whatever influence he might possess over his workmen, so as to induce them to return to their workshops; and to let him know before them that he would be held responsible for what might happen. M. de Châteaubriand appeared at the foot of the staircase, and uttered, in a very impassioned tone, with his voice vehemently raised, in the midst of the workmen, who appeared to second him enthusiastically, nearly the following words:—
"I am a Peer of France. I do not acknowledge the order of the Ministry; I oppose it in the name of the Charter, of which I am the defender, and the protection of which every citizen may claim. I oppose the removal of my work. I forbid the transport of these sheets. I will only yield to force, and when I see the gendarmes."
Immediately, raising my voice to a loud tone, and extending my arm from the first landing-place of the staircase on which I then stood, I replied to him who had just manifested to myself formally and personally his determined resistance to the execution of the orders of his Majesty's minister, and had thereby shown that he was the real exciter of the movements that had taken place; I said—
"And I, in the name and on the part of the King, in my quality of Commissary of Police, appointed by his Majesty, and acting under the orders of his Excellency the Minister of General Police, demand respect for constituted authority. Let everything remain untouched; let all tumult cease, until the arrival of fresh orders which I expect from his Excellency."
While I uttered these words, profound silence was maintained. Calm had succeeded to tumult. Soon after, the gendarmes arrived. I then ordered the workmen to return to their workshops. M. de Châteaubriand, as soon as the gendarmes entered, retired into the apartments of M. Le Normant, and appeared no more. We then finished our work and prepared the report of all that had occurred, after having despatched to the Ministry of Police the articles seized, and committed the forms to the guard, and under the responsibility of M. Le Normant.
At the moment of the disturbance one of the stitched copies disappeared. Subsequently we seized, at the house of M. Le Marchand, a book-stitcher, and formerly a bookseller, in the Rue de la Parcheminerie, seven parcels of copies of the same work; and at No. 17, Rue des Prêtres, in a wareroom belonging to M. Le Normant, we placed eight forms under seal, and seized four thousand sheets of the same work.
I have forwarded to the Ministry of Police reports of these different operations, with the sheets and copies seized of the work of M. de Châteaubriand.
M. Le Normant appeared to me to conduct himself without blame during these transactions, which were carried into effect at his dwelling-place, and during the tumult which M. de Châteaubriand promoted on the occasion of the seizure of his work. But it is sufficiently proved by his own admission and by facts, that he has issued for sale to various booksellers, and has sold himself copies of this work before he had deposited the five as required by the laws.
As to M. de Châteaubriand, I am astonished that he should have so scandalously compromised the dignity of the titles with which he is decorated, by exhibiting himself under these circumstances, as if he had been nothing more than the leader of a troop of workmen, whom he had stirred up to commotion.
He was the cause of the workmen profaning the sacred cry of "Long live the King!" by using it in an act of rebellion against the authority of the Government, which is the same as that of the King.
He has excited these misguided men against a Commissary of Police, a public functionary appointed by his Majesty, and against three peace-officers in the execution of their duty, and without arms against a multitude.
He has committed an offence against the Royal government, by saying that he would acknowledge force alone, in a system based upon quite a different force from that of bayonets, and which only uses such coercive measures against persons who are strangers to every sentiment of honour.
Finally, this scene might have led to serious consequences if, imitating the conduct of M. de Châteaubriand, we had forgotten for a moment that we were acting by the orders of a Government as moderate as firm, and as strong in its wisdom as in its legitimacy.
2. The Viscount de Châteaubriand to the Count Decazes.
Paris, September 18th, 1816.
My Lord Count,
I called at your residence this morning to express my surprise. At twelve this day, I found at the house of M. Le Normant, my bookseller, some men who said they were sent by you to seize my new work, entitled 'Of Monarchy according to the Charter.'
Not seeing any written order, I declared that I would not allow the removal of my property unless gendarmes seized it by force. Some gendarmes arrived, and I then ordered my bookseller to allow the work to be carried away.
This act of deference to authority has not allowed me to forget what I owe to my rank as a Peer. If I had only considered my personal interests, I should not have interfered; but the privileges of the Peerage having been compromised, I have thought it right to enter a protest, a copy of which I have now the honour of forwarding to you. I demand, in the name of justice, the restitution of my work; and I candidly add, that if I do not receive it back, I shall employ every possible means that the political and civil laws place within my reach.
I have the honour to be, etc. etc.,
(Signed) Count de Châteaubriand.
3. The Count Decazes to the Viscount de Châteaubriand.
Paris, September 18th, 1816.
My Lord Viscount,
The Commissary of Police and the peace-officers, against whom you have thought proper to excite the rebellion of M. Le Normant's workmen, were the bearers of an order signed by one of the King's ministers, and in accordance with a law. That order was shown to the printer named, who read it several times, and felt that he had no right to oppose its execution, demanded in the King's name. Undoubtedly it never occurred to him that your rank as a Peer could place you above the operation of the laws, release you from the respect due by all citizens to public functionaries in the execution of their duty, and, above all, justify a revolt of his work-people against a Commissary of Police, and officers appointed by the King, invested with the distinctive symbols of their office, and acting under legal instructions.
I have seen with regret that you have thought otherwise, and that you have preferred, as you now require of me, to yield to force rather than to obey the law. That law, which M. Le Normant had infringed, is extremely distinct; it requires that no work whatever shall be published clandestinely, and that no publication or sale shall take place before the necessary deposit has been made at the office for the regulation of printing. None of these conditions have been fulfilled by M. Le Normant. If he has given notice, it was informal; for he has himself signed the Report drawn up by the Commissary of Police, to the effect that he proposed to strike off 1500 copies, and that he had already printed 2000.
From another quarter I have been informed that, although no deposit has been made at the office for the regulation of printing, several hundred copies have been despatched this morning before nine o'clock, from the residence of M. Le Normant, and sent to you, and to various booksellers; that other copies have been sold by M. Le Normant at his own house, for the price of four francs; and two of these last copies were in my hands this morning by half-past eight o'clock.
I have considered it my duty not to allow this infraction of the law, and to interdict the sale of a work thus clandestinely and illegally published; I have therefore ordered its seizure, in conformity with Articles 14 and 15 of the Law of the 21st of October, 1814.
No one in France, my Lord Viscount, is above the law; the Peers would be offended, on just grounds, if I thought they could set up such a pretension. Still less would they assume that the works which they feel disposed to publish and sell as private individuals and men of letters, when they wish to honour the literary profession with their labours, should enjoy exclusive privileges; and if these works are submitted to public criticism in common with those of other writers, they are not in any respect liberated from the control of justice, or the supervision of the Police, whose duty it is to take care that the laws, which are equally binding upon all classes of society, should be executed with equal impartiality.
I must also observe, in addition, that it was at the residence and printing-office of M. Le Normant, who is not a Peer of France, that the order constitutionally issued for the seizure of a work published by him in contravention to the law, was carried into effect; that the execution of the order had been completed when you presented yourself; and upon your declaration that you would not suffer your work to be taken away, the workmen broke the seals that had been affixed on some articles, and placed themselves in open rebellion against the King's authority. It can scarcely have escaped you, that by invoking that august name they have been guilty of a crime of which, no doubt, they did not perceive the extent; and to which they could not have been led, had they been more impressed with the respect due to the act of the King and his representatives, and if it could so happen that they did not read what they print.
I have felt these explanations due to your character; they will, I trust, convince you that if the dignity of the Peerage has been compromised in this matter, it has not been through me.
I have the honour to be,
My Lord Viscount,
Your very humble and very obedient Servant,
(Signed) The Count Decazes.
4. The Viscount de Châteaubriand to the Count Decazes.
Paris, September 19th, 1816.
My Lord Count,
I have received the letter which you have done me the honour to address to me on the 18th of this month. It contains no answer to mine of the same day.
You speak to me of works clandestinely published (in the face of the sun, with my name and titles). You speak of revolt and rebellion, when there has been neither revolt nor rebellion. You say that there were cries of "Long live the King!" That cry has not yet been included in the law of seditious exclamations, unless the Police are empowered to decree in opposition to the Chambers. For the rest, all will appear in due time and place. There will be no longer a pretence to confound the cause of the bookseller with mine; we shall soon know whether, under a free government, a police order, which I have not even seen, is binding on a Peer of France; we shall learn whether, in my case, all the rights secured to me by the charter, have not been violated, both as a Citizen and a Peer. We shall learn, through the laws themselves, which you have the extreme kindness to quote for me (a little incorrectly, it may be observed), whether I have not the right to publish my opinions; we shall learn, finally, whether France is henceforward to be governed by the Police or by the Constitution.
On the subject of my respect and loyalty to the King, my Lord Count, I require no lessons, and I might supply an example. With respect to my rank as a Peer, I shall endeavour to make it respected, equally with my dignity as a man; and I perfectly well knew, before you took the trouble to inform me, that it will never be compromised either by you or any one else. I have demanded at your hands the restitution of my work: am I to hope that it will be restored? This is the immediate question.
I have the honour to be,
My Lord Count,
Your very humble and very obedient Servant,
(Signed) The Viscount de Châteaubriand.
5. The Viscount de Châteaubriand to the Chancellor Dambray.
Paris, September 18th, 1816.
My Lord Chancellor,
I have the honour to forward to you a copy of the protest I have entered, and the letter I have just written to the Minister of Police.
Is it not strange, my Lord Chancellor, that in open day, by force, and in defiance of my remonstrances, the work of a Peer of France, to which my name is attached, and printed publicly in Paris, should have been carried off by the Police, as if it were a seditious or clandestine publication, such as the 'Yellow Dwarf,' or the 'Tri-coloured Dwarf'? Beyond what was due to my prerogative as a Peer of France, I may venture to say that I deserved personally a little more respect. If my work were objectionable, I might have been summoned before the competent tribunals: I should have answered the appeal.
I have protested for the honour of the Peerage, and I am determined to follow up this matter to the last extremity. I call for your support as President of the Chamber of Peers, and for your interference as the head of justice.
I am, with profound respect, etc. etc.,
(Signed) The Viscount Châteaubriand.
6. The Chancellor Dambray to the Count Decazes.
Paris, September, 19th, 1816.
I send you confidentially, my dear colleague, a letter which I received yesterday from M. de Châteaubriand, with the informal Protest of which he has made me the depository. I beg you will return these documents, which ought not to be made public. I enclose also a copy of my answer, which I also request you to return after reading; for I have kept no other. I hope it will meet your approbation.
I repeat the expression of my friendly sentiments.
Dambray.
7. The Chancellor Dambray to the Viscount de Châteaubriand.
Paris, September 19th, 1816.
My Lord Viscount,
I have received with the letter you have addressed to me, the declaration relative to the seizure which took place at the residence of your bookseller; I find it difficult to understand the use you propose to make of this document, which cannot extenuate in any manner the infraction of law committed by M. Le Normant. The Law of the 21st of October, 1814, is precise on this point. No printer can publish or offer for sale any work, in any manner whatever, before having deposited the prescribed number of copies. There is ground for seizure, the Article adds, and for sequestrating a work, if the printer does not produce the receipts of the deposit ordered by the preceding Article.
All infractions of this law (Art. 20) will be proved by the reports of the inspectors of the book-trade, and the Commissaries of Police.
You were probably unacquainted with these enactments when you fancied that your quality as a Peer of France gave you the right of personally opposing an act of the Police, ordered and sanctioned by the law, which all Frenchmen, whatever may be their rank, are equally bound to respect.
I am too much attached to you, Viscount, not to feel deep regret at the part you have taken in the scandalous scene which seems to have occurred with reference to this matter, and I regret sincerely that you have added errors of form to the real mistake of a publication which you could not but feel must be unpleasant to his Majesty. I know nothing of your work beyond the dissatisfaction which the King has publicly expressed with it; but I am grieved to notice the impression it has made upon a monarch who, on every occasion, has condescended to evince as much esteem for your person as admiration for your talents.
Receive, Viscount, the assurance of my high consideration, and of my inviolable attachment.
The Chancellor of France,
Dambray.
No. IX.
Table of the principal Reforms effected in the Administration of France from 1816 to 1820.
Ministry of the Interior (M. Lainé).
From May, 1816, to December, 1818.
Sept. 4th, 1816.—Decree for the reorganization of the Polytechnic School.
Sept. 25th, 1816.—Decree to authorize the Society of French Missions.
Dec. 11th, 1816.—Decree for the organization of the National Guards of the Department of the Seine.
Dec. 23rd, 1816.—Decree for the institution of the Royal Chapter of St. Denis.
Feb. 26th, 1817.—Decree relative to the administration of the Public Works of Paris.
Ditto, ditto.—Decree for the organization of the Schools of Arts and Trades at Châlons and Angers.
March 12th, 1817.—Decree on the administration and funds of the Royal Colleges.
March 26th, 1817.—Decree authorizing the presence of the Prefects and Sub-Prefects at the General Councils of the Department or District.
April 2nd, 1817.—Decree to regulate Central Houses of Confinement.
Ditto, ditto.—Decree to regulate the conditions and mode of carrying out the royal authority for legacies or donations to Religious Establishments.
April 9th, 1817.—Decree for the assessment of 3,900,000 francs, destined to improve the condition of the Catholic Clergy.
Ditto, ditto.—Decree for the suppression of the Secretaries-General of the Prefectures, except only for the Department of the Seine.
April 16th, 1817.—Three Decrees to regulate the organization of, and persons employed in the Conservatory of Arts and Trades.
Sept. 10th, 1817.—Decree upon the system of the Port of Marseilles, with regard to Custom-house Duties and Storehouses.
Nov. 6th, 1817.—Decree to regulate the progressive reduction of the number of Councillors in each Prefecture.
May 20th, 1818.—Decree to increase Ecclesiastical Salaries, particularly those of the Curates.
June 9th, 1818.—Decree on the discontinuance of Compositions for Taxes payable at the Entrance of Towns.
July 29th, 1818.—Decree for the establishment of Savings Banks, and Provident Banks, in Paris.
Sept. 30th, 1818.—Decree which removes from his Royal Highness Monsieur, while leaving him the honorary privileges, the actual command of the National Guard of the Kingdom, to give it back to the Minister of the Interior, and the Municipal Authorities.
Oct. 7th, 1818.—Decree respecting the use and administration of Commons, or Town property.
Oct. 21st, 1818.—Decree respecting the premiums for the encouragement of the Maritime Fisheries.
Dec. 17th, 1818.—Decree relative to the organization and administration of the Educational Establishments called Britannic.
Count Decazes.
From December, 1818, to February, 1820.
Jan. 13th, 1819.—Decree to arrange public exhibitions of products of industry.—The first, to take place on the 25th of August, 1819.
Jan. 27th, 1819.—Decree for creating a Council of Agriculture.
Feb. 14th, 1819.—Decree for the encouragement of the Whale Fishery.
March 24th, 1819.—Decree introducing various reforms and improvements in the School of Law, at Paris.
April 9th, 1819.—Decree appointing a Jury of Manufacturers to select for reward the artists who have made the greatest progress in their respective trades.
April 10th, 1819.—Decree relative to the institution of the Council-General of Prisons.
April 19th, 1819.—Decree to facilitate the public sale of merchandise by auction.
June 23rd, 1819.—Decree to reduce the period of service of the National Guard of Paris.
June 29th, 1819.—Decree relative to holding Jewish Consistories.
Aug. 23rd, 1819.—Two Decrees upon the organization and privileges of the General Council of Commerce and Manufacture.
Aug. 25th, 1819.—Decree relative to the erection of 500 new Chapels of Ease.
Nov. 25th, 1819.—Decree relative to the organization and system of teaching of the Conservatory of Arts and Trades.
Dec. 22nd, 1819.—Decree relative to the organization and system of the Public Treasury of Poissy.
Dec. 25th, 1819.—Decree relative to the mode of Collation, and the system of public Bursaries in the Royal Colleges.
Dec. 29th, 1819.—Decree authorizing the foundation of a permanent asylum for old men and invalids, in the Quartier du gros Caillon.
Feb. 4th, 1820.—Decree for the regulation of public carriages throughout the Kingdom.
Ministry of War (Marshal Gouvion St. Cyr).
From September, 1817, to November, 1819.
Oct. 22nd, 1817.—Decree for the organization of the Corps of Geographic Engineers of War.
Nov. 6th, 1817.—Decree for the organization of the Staff of the military division of the Royal Guard.
Dec. 10th, 1817.—Decree respecting the system of administration of military supplies.
Dec. 17th. 1817.—Decree relative to the organization of the Staff of the Corps of Engineers.
Dec. 17th, 1817.—Decree relative to the organization of the Staff of the Corps of Artillery.
Dec. 24th, 1817.—Decree upon the organization of Military Schools.
March 25th, 1818.—Decree relative to the system and sale of gunpowder for purposes of war, mining, or the chase.
March 25th, 1818.—Decree relative to the system and organization of the Companies of Discipline.
April 8th, 1818.—Decree for the formation of Departmental Legions in three battalions.
May 6th, 1818.—Decree relative to the organization of the Corps and School of the Staff.
May 20th, 1818.—Decree relative to the position and allowances of those not in active service, or on half-pay.
May 20th, 1818.—Instructions approved by the King relative to voluntary engagements.
June 10th, 1818.—Decree relative to the organization, system, and teaching of the Military Schools.
July 8th, 1818.—Decree relative to the organization and system of Regimental Schools in the Artillery.
July 15th, 1818.—Decree relative to the supply of gunpowder and saltpetre.
July 23rd, 1818.—Decree respecting the selection of the General Staff of the Army.
Aug. 3rd, 1818.—Decree relative to the military hierarchy, and the order of promotion, in conformity with the Law of the 10th of March, 1818.
Aug. 5th, 1818.—Decree relative to the allowances of Staff Officers.
Aug. 5th, 1818.—Decree relative to the system and expenses of Barracks.
Sept. 2nd, 1818.—Decree relative to the Corps of Gendarmes of Paris.
Dec. 30th, 1818.—Decree regulating the organization and system of the Body-guard of the King.
Dec. 30th, 1818.—Decree regulating the allowances to Governors of Military Divisions.
Feb. 17th, 1819.—Decree on the composition and strength of the eighty-six regiments of Infantry.
No. X.
M. Guizot to M. de Serre.
Paris, April 12th, 1820.
My dear Friend,
I have not written to you in all our troubles. I knew that you would hear from this place a hundred different opinions, and a hundred opposite statements on the position of affairs; and, although I had not entire confidence in any of those who addressed you, as you are not called upon, according to my judgment, to form any important resolution, I abstained from useless words. Today all has become clearer and more mature; the situation assumes externally the character it had until now concealed; I feel the necessity of telling you what I think of it, for the advantage of our future proceedings in general, and yours in particular.
The provisional bills have passed:—you have seen how: fatal to those who have gained them, and with immense profit to the Opposition. The debate has produced this result in the Chamber, that the right-hand party has extinguished itself, to follow in the suite of the right-centre; while the left-centre has consented to assume the same position with respect to the extreme left, from which, however, it has begun to separate within the last fifteen days. So much for the interior of the Chamber.
Without, you may be assured that the effect of these two debates upon the popular masses has been to cause the right-hand party to be looked upon as less haughty and exacting; the left, as more firm and more evenly regulated than was supposed: so that, at present, in the estimation of many worthy citizens, the fear of the right and the suspicion of the left are diminished in equal proportions. A great evil is comprised in this double fact. Last year we gained triumphs over the left, without and within the Chamber; at present the left triumphs over us! Last year we still remained, and were considered, as ever since 1815, a necessary and safe rampart against the Ultras, who were greatly dreaded, and whose rule seemed possible; today the Ultras are less feared, because their arrival at power is scarcely believed. The conclusion is, that we are less wanted than formerly.
Let us look to the future. The election bill, which Decazes presented eight days before his fall, is about to be withdrawn. This is certain. It is well known that it could never pass; that the discussions on its forty-eight articles would be interminable; the Ultras are very mistrustful of this its probable results; it is condemned; they will frame, and are already framing, another. What will this new bill be? I cannot tell. What appears to me certain is, that, if no change takes place in the present position, it will have for object, not to complete our institutions, not to correct the vices of the bill of the 5th of February, 1817, but to bring back exceptional elections; to restore, as is loudly proclaimed, something analogous to the Chamber of 1815. This is the avowed object, and, what is more, the natural and necessary end. This end will be pursued without accomplishment; such a bill will either fail in the debate, or in the application. If it passes, and after the debate which it cannot fail to provoke, the fundamental question, the question of the future, will escape from the Chamber, and seek its solution without, in the intervention of the masses. If the bill is rejected, the question may be confined within the Chamber; but it will no longer be the Ministry in office who will have the power and mission of solving it. If a choice is left to us, which I am far from despairing of, it will lie between a lamentable external revolution and a ministerial revolution of the most complete character. And this last chance, which is our only one, will vanish if we do not so manage as to offer the country, for the future, a ministry boldly constitutional.
In this position of affairs, what it is indispensable that you should be made acquainted with, and what you would discover in five minutes if you could pass five minutes here, is, that you are no longer a Minister, and that you form no portion of the Ministry in office. It would be impossible to induce you to speak with them as they speak, or as they are compelled to speak. The situation to which they are reduced has been imposed by necessity; they could only escape from it by completely changing their ground and their friends, by recovering eighty votes from the one hundred and fifteen of the actual Opposition, or by an appeal to a new Chamber. This last measure it will never adopt; and by the side of the powerlessness of the existing Cabinet, stands the impossibility of escaping from it by the aid of the right-hand party. An ultra ministry is impossible. The events in Spain, whatever they may ultimately lead to, have mortally wounded the governments of coups d'état and ordinances.
I have looked closely into all this, my dear friend; I have thought much on the subject when alone, more than I have communicated to others. You cannot remain indefinitely in a situation so critical and weak, so destitute of power for immediate government, and so hopeless for the future. I see but one thing to do at present; and that is, to prepare and hold back those who may save the Monarchy. I cannot see, in the existing state of affairs, any possibility of labouring effectively for its preservation. You can only drag yourselves timidly along the precipice which leads to its ruin. You may possibly not lose in the struggle your reputation for honest intentions and good-faith; but this is the maximum of hope which the present Cabinet can reasonably expect to preserve. Do not deceive yourself on this point; of all the plans of reform, at once monarchical and liberal, which you contemplated last year, nothing now remains. It is no longer a bold remedy which is sought for against the old revolutionary spirit; it is a miserable expedient which is adopted without confidence. It is not fit for you, my dear friend, to remain garotted under this system. Thank Heaven! you were accounted of some importance in the exceptional laws. As to the constitutional projects emanating from you, there are several—the integral renewing of the Chamber, for example—which have rather gained than lost ground, and which have become possible in another direction and with other men. I know that nothing happens either so decisively or completely as has been calculated, and that everything is, with time, an affair of arrangement and treaty. But as power is situated at present, you can do nothing, you are nothing; or rather, at this moment, you have not an inch of ground on which you can either hold yourself erect, or fall with honour. If you were here, either you would emerge, within a week, from this impotent position, or you would be lost with the rest, which Heaven forbid!
You see, my dear friend, that I speak to you with the most unmeasured frankness. It is because I have a profound conviction of the present evil and of the possibility of future safety. In this possibility you are a necessary instrument. Do not suffer yourself, while at a distance, to be compromised in what is neither your opinion nor your desire. Regulate your own destiny, or at least your position in the common destiny of all; and if you must fall, let it be for your own cause, and in accordance with your own convictions.
I add to this letter the Bill prepared by M. de Serre in November, 1819, and which he intended to present to the Chambers, to complete the Charter, and at the same time to reform the electoral law. It will be seen how much this Bill differed from that introduced in April, 1820, with reference to the law of elections alone, and which M. de Serre supported as a member of the second Cabinet of the Duke de Richelieu.
BILL FOR THE ORGANIZATION OF THE LEGISLATURE.
Art. 1. The Legislature assumes the name of Parliament of France.
Art. 2. The King convokes the Parliament every year.
Parliament will be convoked extraordinarily, at the latest, within two months after the King attains his majority, or succeeds to the throne; or under any event which may cause the establishment of a Regency.
Of the Peerage.
Art. 3. The Peerage can only be conferred on a Frenchman who has attained his majority, and is in the exercise of political and civil rights.
Art. 4. The character of Peer is indelible; it can neither be lost nor abdicated, from the moment when it has been conferred by the King.
Art. 5. The exercise of the rights and privileges of Peer can only be suspended under two conditions:—1. Condemnation to corporal punishment; 2. Interdiction pronounced according to the forms prescribed by the Civil Code. In either case, by the Chamber of Peers alone.
Art. 6. The Peers are admissible to the Chamber at the age of twenty-one, and can vote when they have completed their twenty-fifth year.
Art. 7. In case of the death of a Peer, his successor in the Peerage will be admitted as soon as he has attained the required age, on fulfilling the forms prescribed by the decree of the 23rd of March, 1816, which decree will be annexed to the present law.
Art. 8. A Peerage created by the King cannot henceforward, during the life of the titulary, be declared transmissible, except to the real and legitimate male children of the created Peer.
Art. 9. The inheritance of the Peerage cannot henceforward be conferred until a Majorat of the net revenue of twenty thousand francs, at least, shall be attached to the Peerage.
Dotation of the Peerage.
Art. 10. The Peerage will be endowed—1, With three [millions] five hundred thousand francs of rent, entered upon the great-book of the public debt, which sum will be unalienable, and exclusively applied to the formation of Majorats; 2, With eight hundred thousand francs of rent, equally entered and inalienable, to be applied to the expenses of the Chamber of Peers.
By means of this dotation, these expenses cease to be charged to the Budget of the State, and the domains, rents, and property of every kind, proceeding from the dotation of the former Senate, except the Palace of the Luxembourg and its dependencies, are reunited to the property of the State.
Art. 11. Three millions five [hundred thousand] francs of rent, intended for the formation of Majorats, are divided into fifty majorats of thirty thousand francs, and one hundred majorats of twenty thousand francs each, attached to the same number of peerages.
Art. 12. These Majorats will be conferred by the King exclusively upon lay Peers; they will be transmissible with the Peerage from male to male, in order of primogeniture, and in the real, direct, and legitimate line only.
Art. 13. A Peer cannot unite in his own person several of these Majorats.
Art. 14. Immediately on the endowment of a Majorat, and on the production of letters-patent, the titulary will be entered in the great-book of the public debt, for an unalienable revenue, according to the amount of his majorat.
Art. 15. In case of the extinction of the successors to any one of these Majorats, it reverts to the King's gift, who can confer it again, according to the above-named regulations.
Art. 16. The King can permit the titulary possessor of a Majorat to convert it into real property producing the same revenue, and which will be subject to the same reversion.
Art. 17. The dotation of the Peerage is inalienable, and cannot under any pretext whatever, be applied to any other purpose than that prescribed by the present law. This dotation remains charged, even to extinction, with the pensions at present enjoyed by the former Senators, as also with those which have been or may hereafter be granted to their widows.
Of the Chamber of Deputies.
Art. 18. The Chamber of Deputies to Parliament is composed of four hundred and fifty-six members.
Art. 19. The Deputies to Parliament are elected for seven years.
Art. 20. The Chamber is renewed integrally, either in case of dissolution, or at the expiration of the time for which the Deputies are elected.
Art. 21. The President of the Chamber of Deputies is elected according to the ordinary forms for the entire duration of the Parliament.
Art. 22. The rates which must be paid by an elector, or one eligible for an elector, consist of the principal of the direct taxes without regard to the additional hundredths. To this effect, the taxes for doors and windows will be separated from the the principal and additional hundredths, in such manner that two-thirds of the entire tax may be entered as principal and the remaining third as additional hundredths. For the future this plan will be permanent; the augmentations or diminutions of these two taxes will be made by the addition or reduction of the additional hundredths: the same rule will apply to the taxes on land, moveables, and other personal property, as soon as the principal of each is definitely settled. The tax on land and that on doors and windows will only be charged to the proprietor or temporary possessor, notwithstanding any contrary arrangement.
Art. 23. A son is liable for the taxes of his father, and a son-in-law whose wife is alive, or who has children by her, for the taxes of his father-in-law, in all cases where the father or father-in-law have transferred to them their respective rights.
The taxes of a widow, not re-married, are chargeable to whichever of her sons, or, in default of sons, to whichever of her sons-in-law, she may designate.
Art. 24. To constitute the eligibility of an elector, these taxes must have been paid one year at least before the day of the election. The heir or legatee on the general title, is considered responsible for the taxes payable by the parties from whom he derives.
Art. 25. Every elector and Deputy is bound to make affidavit, if required, that they pay really and personally, or that those whose rights they exercise pay really and personally, the rates required by the law; that they, or those whose rights they exercise, are the true and legitimate owners of the property on account of which the taxes are paid, or that they truly exercise the trade for the license of which the taxes are imposed.
This affidavit is received by the Chamber, for the Deputies, and at the electoral offices for the electors. It is signed by them, without prejudice to contradictory evidence.
Art. 26. Every Frenchman who has completed the age of thirty on the day of election, who is in the enjoyment of civil and political rights, and who pays a direct tax amounting to six hundred francs in principal, is eligible to the Chamber of Deputies.
Art. 27. The Deputies to Parliament are named partly by the electors of the department, and partly by the electors of the divisions into which each department is divided, in conformity with the table annexed to the present law.
The electors of each electoral divisions nominate directly the number of Deputies fixed by the same table.
This rule applies to the electors of each department.
Art. 28. All Frenchmen who have completed the age of thirty years, who exercise political and civil rights, who have their residence in the department, and who pay a direct tax of four hundred francs in principal, are electors for the department.
Art. 29. When the electors for the department are less than fifty in the department of Corsica, less than one hundred in the departments in the higher and lower Alps, of the Ardèche, of the Ariège, or the Corrèze, of the Creuse, of the Lozère, of the higher Marne, of the higher Pyrenees, of Vaucluse, of the Vosges; less than two hundred in the departments of the Ain, of the Ardennes, of the Aube, of the Aveyron, of the Central, of the Coasts of the North, of the Doubs, of the Drôme, of the Jura, of the Landes, of the Lot, of the Meuse, of the lower Pyrenees, of the lower and upper Rhine, of the upper Saône; and less than three hundred in the other departments; these numbers are to be completed by calling on those who are next in the ratio of taxation.
Art. 30. All Frenchmen aged thirty years complete, who exercise political and civil rights, who dwell in the electoral division, and who pay a direct tax of two hundred francs in principal, are electors for the division.
Art. 31. The electors of departments exercise their rights as electors of division, each in the division in which he dwells. To this effect, the elections for the departments will not take place till after those for the division.
Art. 32. The Deputies to Parliament named by the electors of division ought to be domiciled in the department, or at least to be proprietors there for more than a year, of a property paying six hundred francs in principal, or to have exercised public functions there for three years at the least.
The Deputies nominated by the electors of departments may be selected from all who are eligible throughout the kingdom.
Forms of Election.
Art. 33. At the hour and on the day fixed for the election, the Board will repair to the hall selected for its sittings. The Board is to be composed of a President appointed by the King, of the Mayor, of the senior Justice of the Peace, and of the two chief Municipal Councillors of the head-towns in which the election is held. At Paris, the senior Mayor and Justice of the Peace of the electoral division, and two members of the general Council of the Department, taken according to the order of their appointment, are to co-operate with the President in the formation of the Board.
The duties of secretary will be fulfilled by the Mayor's secretary.
Art. 34. The votes are given publicly by the inscription which each elector makes himself, or dictates to a member of the Board, of the names of the candidates upon an open register. The elector inscribes the names of as many candidates as there are Deputies to elect.
Art. 35. In order that any eligible person may become a candidate, and that the register may be opened in his favour, it is necessary that he should have been proposed to the Board by twenty electors at least, who inscribe his name upon the register.
At Paris, no one can be proposed, at the same election, as a candidate in more than two electoral districts at the same time.
Art. 36. At the opening of each sitting, the President announces the names of the candidates proposed, and the number of votes that each has obtained. The same announcement is printed and posted in the town after every sitting.
Art. 37. The register for the first series of votes remains open for three days at least, and for six hours every day.
No Deputy can be elected by the first series of votes, except by an absolute majority of the electors of the district and department, who have voted during the three days.
Art. 38. The third day and the hour appointed for voting having expired, the register is declared closed; the votes are summed up; the total number and the number given to each candidate are published, and the candidates who have obtained an absolute majority are announced.
If all the Deputies have not been elected by the first scrutiny of votes, the result is published and posted immediately; and after an interval of three days, a second series of votes is taken during the following days, in the same manner and under the same formalities and delays. The candidates who obtain a relative majority at the second voting are elected.
Art. 39. Before closing the registers at each voting, the President demands publicly whether there is any appeal against the manner in which the votes have been inscribed. If objections are made, they are to be entered on the official report of the election, and the registers, closed and sealed, are forwarded to the Chamber of Deputies, who will decide.
If there are no appeals, the registers are destroyed on the instant, and the official report alone is forwarded to the Chamber.
The official report and registers are signed by all the members of the Board.
If there are grounds for a provisional decision, the Board has the power of pronouncing it.
Art. 40. The President is invested with full power to maintain the freedom of the elections. The civil and military authorities are bound to obey his requisitions. The President maintains silence in the hall in which the election is held, and will not allow any individual to be present who is not an elector or a member of the Board.
Arrangements common to the two Chambers.
Art. 41. No proposition can be sent to a committee until it has been previously decided on in the Chamber. The Chamber, on all occasions, appoints the number of the members of the committee, and selects them, either by a single ballot from the entire list, or on the proposition of their own board.
Every motion coming from a Peer or Deputy must be announced at least eight days beforehand, in the Chamber to which he belongs.
Art. 42. No motion can be passed by the Chamber until after three separate readings, each with an interval between them of eight days at the least. The debate follows after each reading. When the debate has concluded, the Chamber votes on a new reading. After the last debate, it votes on the definitive adoption of the measure.
Art. 43. Every amendment must be proposed before the second reading. An amendment decided on after the second reading will of necessity demand another reading after the same interval.
Art. 44. Every amendment that may be discussed and voted separately from the motion under debate, will be considered as a new motion, and will have to undergo the same forms.
Art. 45. Written speeches, except the reports of committees and the first opening of a motion, are interdicted.
Art. 46. The Chamber of Peers cannot vote unless fifty Peers, at least, are present; the Chamber of Deputies cannot vote unless one hundred Members, at least, are present.
Art. 47. The vote in both Chambers is always public.
Fifteen Members can call for a division.
The division is made with closed doors.
Art. 48. The Chamber of Peers can admit the public to its sittings. On the demand of five Peers, or on that of the proposer of the motion, the sitting becomes private.
Art. 49. The Chamber of Deputies can only form itself into a secret committee to hear and discuss the propositions of one of its Members, when a secret committee is asked by the proposer of the motion, or by five Members at least.
Art. 50. The arrangements of the laws now in operation, and particularly those of the law of 17th February, 1817, and which are not affected by the present law, will continue to be carried on according to their form and tenour.
Temporary Arrangements.
Art. 51. The Chamber of Deputies, from this date until the Session of 1820, will be carried to the full number of 456 Members.
To this effect, the departments of the fourth series will each name the number of Deputies assigned to them by the present law; the other departments will also complete the number of Deputies, in the same manner assigned to them. The Deputies appointed in execution of the present article will be for seven years.
Art. 52. If the number of Deputies to be named to complete the deputation of any department, does not exceed that which the electors of the department ought to elect, they will all be elected by these electors. Should the case be otherwise, each Deputy exceeding this number will be chosen by the electors of one of the electoral divisions of the department, in the order hereinafter named:—
1. By such of the electoral divisions as have the right of naming more than one Deputy, unless one at least of the actual Deputies has his political residence in this division.
2. By the first of the electoral divisions in which no actual Deputy has his political residence.
3. By the first of the electoral divisions in which one or more of the actual Deputies have their political residence, in such manner that no single division shall name more Deputies than those assigned to it by the present law.
Art. 53. At the expiration of the powers of the present Deputies of the 5th, 1st, 2nd and 3rd series, a new election will be proceeded with for the election of an equal number of Deputies for each respective department, by such of the electoral divisions as have not, in execution of the preceding article, elected the full number of Deputies which are assigned to them by the present law.
Art. 54. The Deputies to be named in execution of the preceding article will be; those of the 5th series, for six years;—those of the 1st, for five years; those of the 2nd, for four years; and those of the 3rd, for three years.
Art. 55. The regulations prescribed by the above articles will be observed, if, between the present date and the integral renewing of the Chamber, a necessity should arise for replacing a Deputy.
Art. 56. All the elections that may take place under these temporary regulations, must be in accordance with the forms and conditions prescribed by the present law.
Art. 57. In case of a dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies, it must be integrally renewed within the term fixed by Article 50 of the Charter, and in conformity with the present law.
No. XI.
Letters relative to my Dismissal from the Council of State, on the 17th July, 1820.
M. de Serre (Keeper of the Great Seal) to M. Guizot.
Paris, July 17th, 1820.
I regret being compelled to announce to you that you have ceased to belong to the Council of State. The violent hostility in which you have lately indulged, without the shadow of a pretext, against the King's government, has rendered this measure inevitable. You will readily understand how much it is personally distressing to myself. My friendly feelings towards you induce me to express a hope that you may reserve yourself for the future, and that you will not compromise by false steps the talents which may still advantageously serve the King and the country.
You enjoy at present a pension of six thousand francs chargeable on the department of Foreign Affairs. This allowance will be continued. Rest assured that I shall be happy, in all that is compatible with my duty, to afford you proofs of my sincere attachment.
De Serre.
M. Guizot to M. de Serre.
July 17th, 1820.
I expected your letter; I had reason to foresee it, and I did foresee it when I so loudly declared my disapprobation of the acts and speeches of the Ministers. I congratulate myself that I have nothing to change in my conduct. Tomorrow, as today, I shall belong to myself, and to myself alone.
I have not and I never had any pension or allowance chargeable on the department of Foreign Affairs. I am therefore not necessitated to decline keeping it. I cannot comprehend how your mistake has arisen. I request you to rectify it, as regards yourself and the other Ministers, for I cannot suffer such an error to be propagated.
Accept, I entreat you, the assurance of my respectful consideration.
Guizot.
M. Guizot to the Baron Pasquier, Minister for Foreign Affairs.
Paris, July 17th, 1820.
Baron,
The Keeper of the Seals, on announcing to me that, in common with several of my friends, I am removed from the Council of State, writes to me thus: "You enjoy at present a pension of six thousand francs, chargeable on the department of Foreign Affairs; this allowance will be continued." I have been extremely astonished by this mistake; I am completely ignorant of the cause. I have not and I never had any pension or allowance of any description chargeable on the department of Foreign Affairs. Consequently I am not called upon to refuse its continuance. It will be very easy for you, Baron, to verify this fact, and I request you to do so, as well for the Keeper of the Seals as for yourself, for I cannot suffer the slightest doubt to exist on this subject.
Accept, etc.
Guizot.
The Baron Pasquier to M. Guizot.
Paris, July 18th, 1820.
Sir,
I have just discovered the cause of the mistake against which you protest, and into which I myself led the Keeper of the Seals.
Your name, in fact, appears in the list of expenses chargeable on my department, for a sum of 6000 francs. In notifying this charge to me, an error was committed in marking it as annual: I therefore considered it from that time in the light of a pension.
I have now ascertained that it does not assume that character, and that it related only to a specified sum which had been allowed to you, to assist in the establishment of a Journal. It was supposed that this assistance was to be continued, in the form of an annuity, towards covering the expenses.
I shall immediately undeceive the Keeper of the Seals by giving him the correct explanation.
Receive, I pray you, the assurance of my high consideration.
Pasquier.
No. XII.
M. Béranger to M. Guizot, Minister for Public Instruction.
M. Minister,
Excuse the liberty I take in recommending to your notice the widow and children of Emile Debraux. You will undoubtedly ask who was this Emile Debraux. I can inform you, for I have written his panegyric in verse and in prose. He was a writer of songs. You are too polite to ask me at present what a writer of songs is; and I am not sorry, for I should be considerably embarrassed in answering the question. What I can tell you is, that Debraux was a good Frenchman, who sang against the old Government until his voice was extinguished, and that he died six months after the Revolution of July, leaving his family in the most abject poverty. He was influential with the inferior classes; and you may rest assured that, as he was not quite as particular as I am in regard to rhyme and its consequences, he would have sung the new Government, for his only directing compass was the tricoloured flag.
For myself, I have always disavowed the title of a man of letters, as being too ambitious for a mere sonneteer; nevertheless, I am most anxious that you should consider the widow of Emile Debraux as the widow of a literary man, for it seems to me that it is only under that title she could have any claim to the relief distributed by your department.
I have already petitioned the Commission of Indemnity for Political Criminals, in favour of this family. But under the Restoration, Debraux underwent a very slight sentence, which gives but a small claim to his widow. From that quarter I therefore obtained only a trifle.
If I could be fortunate enough to interest you in the fate of these unfortunate people, I should applaud myself for the liberty I have taken in advocating their cause. I have been encouraged by the tokens of kindness you have sometimes bestowed on me.
I embrace this opportunity of renewing my thanks, and I beg you to receive the assurance of the high consideration with which I have the honour to remain,
Your very humble Servant,
Béranger.
Passy, Feb. 13th, 1834.
END OF VOLUME I.
JOHN EDWARD TAYLOR, PRINTER,
LITTLE QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.
Transcriber's note
The following changes have been made to the text:
The spelling of the name, Châteaubriand, was standardized.
Page 1: "MM. LAINE" changed to "MM. [LAINÉ]".
Page 27: "ABBE DE MONTESQUIOU" changed to "[ABBÉ] DE MONTESQUIOU".
Page 126: "mained intact" changed to "[remained] intact".
Page 126: "deremanded for the clergy" changed to "[demanded] for the clergy".
Page 141: "pusue their designs" changed to "[pursue] their designs".
Page 153: "not to detroy" changed to "not to [destroy]".
Page 222 (in the version): In the footnote "Historic Illustrations" has been changed to "Historic [Documents]".
Page 247: "he Pyrenees" changed to "[the] Pyrenees".
Page 263: "spread themelves abroad" changed to "spread [themselves] abroad".
Page 264: "share the reponsibility" changed to "share the [responsibility]".
Page 272: "sonnetteer" changed to "[sonneteer]"
Page 276: "at the C urt" changed to "at the [Court]".
Page 312: "leader vainly eadeavoured" changed to "leader vainly [endeavoured]".
Page 317: "often controlls wills" changed to "often [controls] wills".
Page 326: "When be learned" changed to "When [he] learned".
Page 342: "renouced empty or" changed to "[renounced] empty or".
Page 349: "crossed the saloon in her way" changed to "crossed the saloon [on] her way".
Page 358 (in this version): In the footnote "people surrounds" changed to "people [surround]".
Page 358 (in this version): In the footnote "worthy your having faith" changed to "worthy [of your] having faith".
Page 366: "my thanks or them" changed to "my thanks [for] them".
Page 367: "descripion of Jerusalem" changed to "[description] of Jerusalem".
Page 407: "through the the Inspectors-General" changed to "through [the] Inspectors-General".
Page 412: "Council in in August" changed to "Council [in] August".
Page 441: "three mile lions" changed to "three [millions]".
Page 441: "five hundred francs of rent" changed to "five [hundred thousand] francs of rent".