all society.  Thought, the living principle of good and ill, can only be trained, quelled, and guided by religion.  The only possible religion is Christianity (see the letter from Paris in “Louis Lambert,” in which the young mystic explains, a propos to Swedenborg’s doctrines, how there has never been but one religion since the world began).  Christianity created modern nationalities, and it will preserve them.  Hence, no doubt, the necessity for the monarchical principle.  Catholicism and Royalty are twin principles.

As to the limits within which these two principles should be confined by various institutions, so that they may not become absolute, every one will feel that a brief preface ought not to be a political treatise.  I cannot, therefore, enter on religious discussions, nor on the political discussions of the day.  I write under the light of two eternal truths—­Religion and Monarchy; two necessities, as they are shown to be by contemporary events, towards which every writer of sound sense ought to try to guide the country back.  Without being an enemy to election, which is an excellent principle as a basis of legislation, I reject election regarded as the only social instrument, especially so badly organized as it now is (1842); for it fails to represent imposing minorities, whose ideas and interests would occupy the attention of a monarchical government.  Elective power extended to all gives us government by the masses, the only irresponsible form of government, under which tyranny is unlimited, for it calls itself law.  Besides, I regard the family and not the individual as the true social unit.  In this respect, at the risk of being thought retrograde, I side with Bossuet and Bonald instead of going with modern innovators.  Since election has become the only social instrument, if I myself were to exercise it no contradiction between my acts and my words should be inferred.  An engineer points out that a bridge is about to fall, that it is dangerous for any one to cross it; but he crosses it himself when it is the only road to the town.  Napoleon adapted election to the spirit of the French nation with wonderful skill.  The least important members of his Legislative Body became the most famous orators of the Chamber after the Restoration.  No Chamber has ever been the equal of the Corps Legislatif, comparing them man for man.  The elective system of the Empire was, then, indisputably the best.

Some persons may, perhaps, think that this declaration is somewhat autocratic and self-assertive.  They will quarrel with the novelist for wanting to be an historian, and will call him to account for writing politics.  I am simply fulfilling an obligation—­that is my reply.  The work I have undertaken will be as long as a history; I was compelled to explain the logic of it, hitherto unrevealed, and its principles and moral purpose.

Having been obliged to withdraw the prefaces formerly published, in response to essentially ephemeral criticisms, I will retain only one remark.