Also, I come to you after considerable indoctrination in the ways and concerns of your professions. I have become the object of this indoctrination because of my involvements with the historical papers of two Presidents (although only the latter of the two involvements was of my choosing) and, as a member of the Public Documents Commission, with the papers of other Presidents those to come. The credit for making me one of your disciples goes to those persuasive members of your organizations who have written and talked to me and who, in some cases lest I not be persuaded have sued or threatened to sue me. But even as a disciple of yours, I still harbor ideas which may be heresy. Possibly, I feel too strongly about the importance and value of privacy, not just for people in private life (to whom privacy relates by definition) but also for persons fulfilling public functions. Personalized criticism, instinctive suspicions, parochial observations, speculative thoughts, tentative judgments, calculated posturing, emotional pleas, shifted positions, sour dissents, and quid pro quo efforts to compromise: these are as much a part of human reflections and deliberations in government as they are anywhere else. And I question any policy that puts such occurrences in the public domain simply because they take place in a government office or conference room and involve government officials on government time. Of course, I recognize that historians have a sense of patience which would lead them to say: "We do not ask for such matters to be put in the public domain now but let there be a record of them so that at least our progeny can some day see that record." On that preliminary note, I would like to explore now my dual topics: secrets of history and the law of secrets. As a definition of historical secrets I suggest that they consist of information which historians want to know but can't find out, including: