XVI
HISTORY
onsieur Roman placed half a dozen volumes on the counter.
"I beg of you, Monsieur Blaizot," said he, "to send me these books.
"There are 'Mother and Son,' the 'Memoirs of the Court of France,' and the 'Testament of Richelieu.' I should be grateful if you will add to them anything new you have received lately in the way of history, and more particularly, anything treating of France since the death of Henry IV.... All these are works in which I am extremely interested."
"You are right, Monsieur," said my master. "Books on history are full of light stuff very suitable to amuse an honest fellow, and one is sure of finding a great number of pleasant stories."
"Monsieur l'Abbé," answered Monsieur Roman, "what I look for from the historians is not frivolous amusement. It is a serious study, and I am filled with despair if I find fiction mingled with fact. I study human actions in relation to the conduct of nations, and I seek for maxims of government in history."
"I am not ignorant of that, Monsieur," said my good master. "Your treatise on 'Monarchy' is renowned enough for us to know that you have conceived a political system drawn from history."
"In such sort," said Monsieur Roman, "I have been the first to draw rules for princes and ministers which they cannot avoid without danger."
"And we behold you, Monsieur, on the frontispiece of your book, in the likeness of Minerva, presenting to a youthful king the mirror handed you by the muse, Clio, hovering above your head, in a study decked with busts and pictures. But allow me to tell you, Monsieur, that this muse is a story-teller, and that she holds out to you a mirror of falsehood. There are few truths in history, and the only facts on which all agree are those we get from a single source. Historians contradict one another every time they meet. Even more! We see that Flavius Josephus, who has pourtrayed the same incidents in his 'Antiquities' and in his 'Wars of the Jews,' records them differently in each of these works. Titus Livius is but a collector of fables; and Tacitus, your oracle, gives me the impression of an unsmiling deceiver who flouts all the world under a pretence of gravity. I have a sufficient esteem for Thucydides, Polybius, and Guicciardini. As for our own Mézeray, he does not know what he is saying, any more than do Villaret and Abbé Vély. But I am accusing historians; it is history itself I should attack.
"What is history? A miscellany of moral tales, or an eloquent medley of narratives and speeches, according as the historian is a philosopher or a spouter. You may find eloquent passages, but one must not look for the truth there, because truth consists in showing the necessary relation of things, and the historian does not know how to establish this relation, because he is unable to follow the chain of effects and causes. Consider that every time that the cause of an historical fact lies in a fact that is not historical, history fails to see it. And as historical facts are intimately allied to non-historical facts, it comes about that events are not linked after their natural order in history, but are connected one with another by mere artifices of rhetoric. And I ask you also to notice that the distinction between facts which appear in history and facts which do not is entirely arbitrary. It results from this that, far from being a science, history is condemned by a vice in its essence to the chaos of untruth. Sequence and continuity will always be lacking to it, and without these there can be no true knowledge. You see also that one can draw no prognostic as to the future of a nation from its past history. Now, the peculiarity of science is to be prophetic, as may be seen by those tables where the moon's periods, tides, and eclipses are to be found calculated beforehand, whilst revolutions and wars escape calculation."
Monsieur Roman explained to Monsieur l'Abbé Coignard that he merely asked of history facts, somewhat confused it is true, uncertain, mingled with errors, but infinitely precious, through their subject, which is man.
"I know," he added, "how human annals are curtailed and mixed with fable. But, though a strict sequence of cause and effect fails us, I see in it a kind of plan that one loses and then finds again, like the ruins of temples half-buried in the sand. That alone is of immense value to me. And I flatter myself that, in the future, history, formed from abundant material and treated with method, will rival in exactitude the natural sciences."
"Do not reckon on that," said my good master, "I should rather believe that the growing abundance of memoirs, correspondence, and filed records, will render the task more difficult to future historians. Mr. Elward, who gives up his life to the study of the revolution in England, assures me that one man's lifetime would not suffice in which to read the half of what was written during the disturbances. It reminds me of a story told to me by Monsieur l'Abbé Blanchet on this subject, which I will tell you as I remember it, regretting that Monsieur l'Abbé Blanchet is not here to tell it you himself, for he is a man of wit.
"Here is the apologue:
"When the young prince Zémire succeeded his father on the throne of Persia, he called all the academicians of his kingdom together, and said:
"'The learned Zeb, my instructor, has taught me that monarchs would be liable to fewer errors if they were enlightened by past experience. Therefore I wish to study the history of nations. I order you to compose a universal history and to neglect nothing to make it complete.'
"The wise men promised to carry out the prince's desire, and having withdrawn they set to work immediately. At the end of twenty years they appeared before the king, followed by a caravan composed of twelve camels each bearing 500 volumes. The secretary of the academy, having prostrated himself on the steps of the throne, spoke in these terms:
"'Sire, the academicians of your kingdom have the honour to place at your feet the universal history that they have compiled at your majesty's behests. It comprises 6000 volumes and contains all that we could possibly collect regarding the customs of nations and the vicissitudes of empires. We have inserted the ancient chronicles which have been luckily preserved, and we have illustrated them with abundant notes on geography, chronology, and diplomacy. The prolegomena are alone one camel's load, and the paralipomena are borne with great difficulty by another camel.'
"The king answered:
"'Gentlemen, I thank you for the trouble that you have taken. But I am very busy with the cares of state. Moreover, I have aged while you worked. I am arrived, as says the Persian poet, half-way along the road of life, and even supposing I die full of years, I cannot reasonably hope to have the time to read such a lengthy history. It shall be placed in the archives of the kingdom. Be good enough to make me a summary better fitted to the brevity of human life.'
"The Persian academicians worked twenty years; then they brought to the king 1500 volumes on three camels.
"'Sire,' said the permanent secretary, in a weakened voice, 'here is our new work. We believe we have omitted nothing essential.'
"'That may be,' answered the king, 'but I shall not read it. I am old; lengthy undertakings do not suit my years; abridge it further and do not be long about it.'
"They lingered so little that at the end of ten years they returned followed by a young elephant bearing 500 volumes.
"'I flatter myself I have been succinct,' said the permanent secretary.
"'You have not yet been sufficiently so,' answered the king.
"'I am at the end of my life. Abridge, abridge, if you want me to know the history of mankind ere I die.'
"The permanent secretary reappeared before the palace at the end of five years. Walking with crutches, he held by the bridle a small donkey which bore a big book on its back.
"'Hasten,' said the officer to him, 'the king is dying.'
"The king in fact was on his death-bed. He turned on the academician and his big book his nearly expiring gaze, and said with a sigh:
"'I shall die, then, without knowing the history of mankind!'
"'Sire,' replied the learned man, who was almost as near death as himself, 'I will sum it up for you in three words: They were born, they suffered, they died!'
"Thus did the king of Persia learn the history of the world in the evening of his life."