Memoirs to Illustrate the History of My Time, Volume 1

by François Guizot

MY OPPOSITION.

1820-1829.

MY RETIREMENT AT THE MAISONNETTE.—I PUBLISH FOUR INCIDENTAL ESSAYS ON POLITICAL AFFAIRS: 1. OF THE GOVERNMENT OF FRANCE SINCE THE RESTORATION, AND OF THE MINISTRY IN OFFICE (1820); 2. OF CONSPIRACIES AND POLITICAL JUSTICE (1821); 3. OF THE RESOURCES OF THE GOVERNMENT AND THE OPPOSITION IN THE ACTUAL STATE OF FRANCE (1821); 4. OF CAPITAL PUNISHMENT FOR POLITICAL OFFENCES (1822).—CHARACTER AND EFFECT OF THESE PUBLICATIONS.—LIMITS OF MY OPPOSITION.—THE CARBONARI.—VISIT OF M. MANUEL.—I COMMENCE MY COURSE OF LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF THE ORIGIN OF REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.—ITS DOUBLE OBJECT.—THE ABBÉ FRAYSSINOUS ORDERS ITS SUSPENSION.—MY HISTORICAL LABOURS.—ON THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND; ON THE HISTORY OF FRANCE; ON THE RELATIONS AND MUTUAL INFLUENCE OF FRANCE AND ENGLAND; ON THE PHILOSOPHIC AND LITERARY TENDENCIES OF THAT EPOCH.—THE FRENCH REVIEW.—THE GLOBE.—THE ELECTIONS OF 1827.—MY CONNECTIONS WITH THE SOCIETY, 'HELP THYSELF AND HEAVEN WILL HELP THEE.'—MY RELATIONS WITH THE ADMINISTRATION OF M. DE MARTIGNAC; HE AUTHORIZES THE REOPENING OF MY COURSE OF LECTURES, AND RESTORES MY TITLE AS A STATE-COUNCILLOR.—MY LECTURES (1828-1830) ON THE HISTORY OF CIVILIZATION IN EUROPE AND IN FRANCE.—THEIR EFFECT.—I AM ELECTED DEPUTY FOR LISIEUX (DECEMBER, 1829).

When I was struck from the list of State-Councillors, with MM. Royer-Collard, Camille Jordan, and Barante, I received from all quarters testimonies of ardent sympathy. Disgrace voluntarily encountered, and which imposes some sacrifices, flatters political friends and interests indifferent spectators. I determined to resume, in the Faculty of Letters, my course of modern history. We were then at the end of July. Madame de Condorcet offered to lend me for several months a country-house, ten leagues from Paris, near Meulan. My acquaintance with her had never been intimate; her political sentiments differed materially from mine; she belonged thoroughly and enthusiastically to the eighteenth century and the Revolution: but she possessed an elevated character, a strong mind, and a generous heart, capable of warm affection; a favour offered by her sincerely, and for the sole pleasure of conferring it, might be received without embarrassment. I accepted that which she tendered me, and with the beginning of August I established myself at the Maisonnette, and there recommenced my literary labours.

At that time I was strongly attached, and have ever since remained so, to public life. Nevertheless I have never quitted it without experiencing a feeling of satisfaction mixed with my regret, as that of a man who throws off a burden which he willingly sustained, or who passes from a warm and exciting atmosphere into a light and refreshing temperature. From the first moment, my residence at the Maisonnette pleased me. Situated halfway up a hill, immediately before it was the little town of Meulan, with its two churches, one lately restored for worship, the other partly in ruins and converted into a magazine; on the right of the town the eye fell upon L'Ile Belle, entirely parcelled out into green meadows and surrounded by tall poplar-trees; in front was the old bridge of Meulan, and beyond it the extensive and fertile valley of the Seine. The house, not too small, was commodious and neatly arranged; on either side, as you left the dining-hall, were large trees and groves of shrubs; behind and above the mansion was a garden of moderate extent, but intersected by walks winding up the side of the hill and bordered by flowers. At the top of the garden was a small pavilion well suited for reading alone, or for conversation with a single companion. Beyond the enclosure, and still ascending, were woods, fields, other country-houses and gardens scattered on different elevations. I lived there with my wife and my son Francis, who had just reached his fifth year. My friends often came to visit me. In all that surrounded me, there was nothing either rare or beautiful. It was nature with her simplest ornaments, and family life in the most unpretending tranquillity. But nothing was wanting. I had space, verdure, affection, conversation, liberty, and employment,—the necessity of occupation, that spur and bridle which human indolence and mutability so often require. I was perfectly content. When the soul is calm, the heart full, and the mind active, situations the most opposite to those we have been accustomed to possess their charms, which speedily become happiness.

I sometimes went to Paris on affairs of business. I find, in a letter which I wrote to Madame Guizot during one of these journeys, the impressions I experienced. "At the first moment I feel pleasure at mixing again and conversing with the world, but soon grow weary of unprofitable words. There is no repetition more tiresome than that which bears upon popular matters. We are eternally listening to what we know already; we are perpetually telling others what they are as well acquainted with as we are: this is, at the same time, insipid and agitating. In my inaction, I prefer talking to the trees, the flowers, the sun, and the wind. Man is infinitely superior to nature; but nature is always equal, and inexhaustible in her monotony; we know that she remains and must remain what she is; we never feel in her presence that necessity of moving in advance, which makes us impatient or weary of the society of men when they fail to satisfy this imperative demand. Who has ever fancied that the trees ought to be red instead of green, or found fault with the sun of today for resembling the sun of yesterday? We demand of nature neither progress nor novelty; and this is why nature draws us from the weariness of the world, while she brings repose from its excitement. It is her attribute to please for ever without changing; but immovable man becomes tiresome, and he is not strong enough to be perpetually in motion."

In the bosom of this calm and satisfying life, public affairs, the part I had begun to take in them, the ties of mutual opinion and friendship I had formed, the hopes I had entertained for my country and myself, continued nevertheless to occupy much of my attention. I became anxious to declare aloud my thoughts on the new system under which France was governed; on what that system had become since 1814, and what it ought to be to keep its word and accomplish its object. Still a stranger to the Chambers, it was there alone that I could enter personally into the field of politics, and assume my fitting place. I was perfectly unfettered, and at an age when disinterested confidence in the empire of truth blends with the honest aspirations of ambition; I pursued the success of my cause, while I hoped for personal distinction. After residing for two months at the Maisonnette, I published, under this title, 'On the Government of France since the Restoration, and the Ministry now in Office,' my first oppositional treatise against the policy which had been followed since the Duke de Richelieu, by allying himself with the right-hand party to change the electoral law, had also changed the seat and tendency of power.

I took up the question, or, to speak more truly, I entered into the contest, on the ground on which the Hundred Days and the Chamber of 1815 had unfortunately placed it:—Who are to exercise, in the government of France, the preponderating influence? the victors or the vanquished of 1789? the middle classes, elevated to their rights, or the privileged orders of earlier times? Is the Charter the conquest of the newly constituted society, or the triumph of the old system, the legitimate and rational accomplishment, or the merited penalty of the revolution?

I borrow from a preface which I added last year to a new edition of my 'Course of Lectures on the History of Civilization in France,' some lines which today, after more than forty years of experience and reflection, convey the faithful impress of my thoughts.

"It is the blind rivalry of the high social classes, which has occasioned the miscarriage of our efforts to establish a free government. Instead of uniting either in defence against despotism, or to establish practical liberty, the nobility and the citizens have remained separate, intent on mutually excluding or supplanting each other, and both refusing to admit equality or superiority. Pretensions unjust in principal, and vain in fact! The somewhat frivolous pride of the nobility has not prevented the citizens of France from rising, and taking their place on a level with the highest in the State. Neither have the rather puerile jealousies of the citizens hindered the nobility from preserving the advantages of family celebrity and the long tenure of situation. In every arranged society which lives and increases there is an internal movement of ascent and acquisition. In all systems that are destined to endure, a certain hierarchy of conditions and ranks establishes and perpetuates itself. Justice, common sense, public advantage, and private interest, when properly understood, all require a reciprocal acknowledgment of these natural facts of social order. The different classes in France have not known how to adopt this skilful equity. Thus they have endured, and have also inflicted on their country, the penalty of their irrational egotism. For the vulgar gratification of remaining, on the one side insolent, on the other envious, nobles and citizens have continued much less free, less important, less secure in their social privileges, than they might have been with a little more justice, foresight, and submission to the divine laws of human associations. They have been unable to act in concert, so as to become free and powerful together; and consequently they have given up France and themselves to successive revolutions."