public liberty."

"This suspicion could find no entrance in your own noble heart. No,
Sire, _France is not more desirous of anarchy than you are of
despotism_.[23] She is worthy of your having faith in her loyalty, as
she relies implicitly on your promises."

"Between those who misrepresent a nation so calm and loyal, and we, who
with a deep conviction deposit in your bosom the complaints of an entire
people, jealous of the esteem and confidence of their King, let the
exalted wisdom of your Majesty decide! Your royal prerogatives have
placed in your hands the means of establishing between the authorities
of the State, that constitutional harmony, the first and most essential
condition for the security of the Throne and the greatness of the
country."]

[Footnote 22: One of the ministerial journals of the time.]

[Footnote 23: The words used by the Chamber of Peers in their address.]

HISTORIC DOCUMENTS.

HISTORIC DOCUMENTS.

No. I.

THE VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND TO M. GUIZOT.

_Val-de-Loup, May 12th, 1809._

Sir,

I return you a thousand thanks. I have read your articles with extreme
pleasure. You praise me with so much grace, and bestow on me so many
commendations, that you may easily afford to diminish the latter. Enough
will always remain to satisfy my vanity as an author, and assuredly more
than I deserve.

I find your criticisms extremely just; one in particular has struck me
by its refined taste. You say that the Catholics cannot, like the
Protestants, admit a Christian mythology, because we have not been
trained and accustomed to it by great poets. This is most ingenious; and
if my work should be considered good enough to induce people to say that
I am the first to commence this mythology, it might be replied that I
come too late, that our taste is formed upon other models, etc. etc.
etc.... Nevertheless there will always be Tasso, and all the Latin
Catholic poems of the Middle Ages. This appears to me the only solid
objection that can be raised against your remark.

In truth, and I speak with perfect sincerity, the criticisms which,
before yours, have appeared on my work, make me feel to a certain extent
ashamed of the French. Have you observed that no one seems to have
comprehended its design? That the rules of epic composition are so
generally forgotten, that a work of thought and immense labour is judged
as if it were the production of a day, or a mere romance? And all this
outc