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 ABBE 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 ABBE 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 ABBE 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. Laine, 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 Chateaubriand, 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 Chateaubriand, 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 Chateaubriand, 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 Chateaubriand arrived at that moment, and questioned some workmen who surrounded him. His words were interrupted by cries of "Here is M. de Chateaubriand!" 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 Chateaubriand! M. de Chateaubriand!" I myself distinctly heard the cry of "Long live M. de Chateaubriand!"

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 Chateaubriand, he is a Peer of France. An order from M. de Chateaubriand 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 Chateaubriand, 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 Chateaubriand 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 Chateaubriand 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 Chateaubriand 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 Chateaubriand 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 Chateaubriand 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 Chateaubriand, 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 Pretres, 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 Chateaubriand.

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 Chateaubriand 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 Chateaubriand, 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 Chateaubriand, 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 CHATEAUBRIAND 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 CHATEAUBRIAND.

3. THE COUNT DECAZES TO THE VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND.

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 CHATEAUBRIAND 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 CHATEAUBRIAND.

5. THE VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND 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.