Part 21 (1/2)
2. PROGRESS OF SKEPTICISM.--The first powerful attack on the manners, inst.i.tutions, and establishments of France, and indeed of Europe in general, is that contained in the ”Persian Letters” of the Baron de Montesquieu (1689-1755); in which, under the transparent veil of pleasantries aimed at the Moslem religion, he sought to consign to ridicule the belief in every species of dogma. But the celebrity of Montesquieu is founded on his ”Spirit of Laws,” the greatest monument of human genius in the eighteenth century. It is a profound a.n.a.lysis of law in its relation with government, customs, climate, religion, and commerce.
The book is inspired with a spirit of justice and humanity; but it places the mind too much under the dominion of matter, and argues for necessity rather than liberty, thus depriving moral obligation of much of its absolute character. It is an extraordinary specimen of argument, terseness, and erudition.
The maturity of the eighteenth century is found in Voltaire (1694-1778); he was the personification of its rashness, its zeal, its derision, its ardor, and its universality. In him nature had, so to speak, identified the individual with the nation, bestowing on him a character in the highest degree elastic, having lively sensibility but no depth of pa.s.sion, little system of principle or conduct, but that prompt.i.tude of self- direction which supplies its place, a quickness of perception amounting almost to intuition, and an unexampled degree of activity, by which he was in some sort many men at once. No writer, even in the eighteenth century, knew so many things or treated so many subjects. That which was the ruin of some minds was the strength of his. Rich in diversified talent and in the gifts of fortune, he proceeded to the conquest of his age with the combined power of the highest endowments under the most favorable circ.u.mstances. He was driven again and again, as a moral pest, from the capital of France by the powers that fain would have preserved the people from his opinions, yet ever gaining ground, his wit always welcome, and his opinions gradually prevailing, one audacious sentiment after another broached, and branded with infamy, yet secretly entertained, till the futile struggle was at length given in, and the nation, as with one voice, avowed itself his disciple.
It has been said that Voltaire showed symptoms of infidelity from infancy.
When at college he gave way to sallies of wit, mirth, and profanity which astonished his companions and terrified his preceptors. He was twice imprisoned in the Bastile, and many times obliged to fly from the country.
In England he became acquainted with Bolingbroke and all the most distinguished men of the time, and in the school of English philosophy he learned to use argument, as well as ridicule, in his war with religion. In 1740 we find him a.s.sisting Frederick the Great to get up a refutation of Machiavelli; again, he is appointed historiographer of France, Gentleman of the Bed-chamber, and Member of the Academy; then he accepts an invitation to reside at the Court of Prussia, where he soon quarrels with the king. After many vicissitudes he finally purchased the estate of Ferney, near the Lake of Geneva, where he resided during the rest of his days. From this retreat he poured out an exhaustless variety of books, which were extensively circulated and eagerly perused. He had the admiration of all the wits and philosophers of Europe, and included among his pupils and correspondents some of the greatest sovereigns of the age.
At the age of eighty-four he again visited Paris. Here his levees were more crowded than those of any emperor; princes and peers thronged his ante-chamber, and when he rode through the streets a train attended him which stretched far over the city. He was made president of the Academy, and crowned with laurel at the theatre, where his bust was placed on the stage and adorned with palms and garlands. He died soon after, without the rites of the church, and was interred secretly at a Benedictine abbey.
The national enthusiasm which decreed Voltaire, as he descended to the tomb, such a triumph as might have honored a benefactor of the race, gave place to doubt and disputation as to his merits. In tragedy he is admitted to rank after Corneille and Racine; in ”Zare,” which is his masterpiece, there is neither the lofty conception of the one, nor the perfect versification of the other, but there is a warmth of pa.s.sion, an enthusiasm of feeling, and a gracefulness of expression which fascinate and subdue. As an epic poet he has least sustained his renown; though the ”Henriade” has unquestionably some great beauties, its machinery is tame, and the want of poetic illusion is severely felt. His poetry, especially that of his later years, is by no means so disgraceful to the author as the witticisms in prose, the tales, dialogues, romances, and pasquinades which were eagerly sought for and readily furnished, and which are, with little exception, totally unworthy of an honorable man. As a historian, Voltaire lacked reflection and patience for investigation. His ”History of Charles XII.,” however, was deservedly successful; the reason being that he chose for his hero the most romantic and adventurous of sovereigns, to describe whom there was more need of rapid narrative and brilliant coloring than of profound knowledge and a just appreciation of human nature. In his history of the age of Louis XIV., Voltaire sought not only to present a picture, but a series of researches destined to instruct the memory and exercise the judgment. The English historians, imitating his mode, have surpa.s.sed him in erudition and philosophic impartiality. Still later, his own countrymen have carried this species of writing to a high degree of perfection. Throughout the ”Essay on the Manners of Nations” we find traces of that hatred of religion which he openly cherished in the latter part of his life. The style, however, is pleasing, the facts well arranged, and the portraits traced with originality and vivacity.
Some have attributed to Voltaire the serious design of overturning the three great bases of society, religion, morality, and civil government, but he had not the genius of a philosopher, and there is no system of philosophy in his works. That he had a design to amuse and influence his age, and to avenge himself on his enemies, is obvious enough. Envy and hatred employed against him the weapons of religion, hence he viewed it only as an instrument of persecution. His great powers of mind were continually directed by the opinions of the times, and the desire of popularity was his ruling motive. The character of his earlier writings shows that he did not bring into the world a very independent spirit; they display the lightness and frivolity of the time with the submission of a courtier for every kind of authority, but as his success increased everything encouraged him to imbue his works with that spirit which found so general a welcome. In vain the authority of the civil government endeavored to arrest the impulse which was gaining strength from day to day; in vain this director of the public mind was imprisoned and exiled; the farther he advanced in his career and the more audaciously he propagated his views on religion and government, the more he was rewarded with the renown which he sought. Monarchs became his friends and his flatterers; opposition only increased his energy, and made him often forget moderation and good taste.
3. FRENCH LITERATURE DURING THE REVOLUTION.--The names of Voltaire and Montesquieu eclipse all others in the first half of the eighteenth century, but the influence of Voltaire was by far the most immediate and extensive. After he had reached the zenith of his glory, about the middle of the century, there appeared in France a display of various talent, evoked by his example and trained by his instructions, yet boasting an independent existence. In the works of these men was consummated the literary revolution of which we have marked the beginnings, a revolution more striking than any other ever witnessed in the same s.p.a.ce of time. It was no longer a few eminent men that surrendered themselves boldly to the skeptical philosophy which is the grand characteristic of the eighteenth century; writers of inferior note followed in the same path; the new opinions took entire possession of all literature and cooperated with the state of the morals and the government to bring about a fearful revolution. The whole strength of the literature of this age being directed towards the subversion of the national inst.i.tutions and religion, formed a h.o.m.ogeneous body of science, literature, and the arts, and a compact phalanx of all writers under the common name of philosophers.
Women had their share in the maintenance of this league; the salons of Mesdames du Deffand (1696-1780), Geoffrin (b. 1777), and De l'Espina.s.se (1732-1776) were its favorite resorts; but the great rendezvous was that of the Baron d'Holbach, whence its doctrines spread far and wide, blasting, like a malaria, whatever it met with on its way that had any connection with religion, morals, or venerable social customs. Besides Voltaire, who presided over this coterie, at least in spirit, the daily company included Diderot, an enthusiast by nature and a cynic and sophist by profession; D'Alembert, a genius of the first order in mathematics, though less distinguished in literature; the malicious Marmontel, the philosopher Helvetius, the Abbe Raynal, the furious enemy of all modern inst.i.tutions; the would-be sentimentalist Grimm, and D'Holbach himself.
Hume, Gibbon, Bolingbroke, and others were affiliated members. Their plan was to write a book which would in some sense supersede all others, itself forming a library containing the most recent discoveries in philosophy, and the best explanations and details on every topic, literary and scientific.
The project of this great enterprise of an Encyclopaedia as an immense vehicle for the development of the opinions of the philosophers, alarmed the government, and the parliament and the clergy p.r.o.nounced its condemnation. The philosophy of Descartes and the eminent thinkers of the seventeenth century a.s.sumed the soul of man as the starting-point in the investigation of physical science. The men of the eighteenth century had become tired of following out the sublimities and abstractions of the Cartesians, and they took the opposite course; beginning from sensation, they did not stop short of the grossest materialism and positive atheism.
Such were the principles of the Encyclopaedia, more fully developed and explained in the writings of Condillac (1715-1780), the head of this school of philosophy. His first work, ”On the Origin of Human Knowledge,”
contains the germ of all that he afterwards published. In his ”Treatise on Sensation,” he endeavored, but in vain, to derive the notion of duty from sensation, and expert as he was in logic, he could not conceal the great gulf which his theory left between these two terms. Few writers have enjoyed more success; he brought the science of thought within the reach of the vulgar by stripping it of everything elevated, and every one was surprised and delighted to find that philosophy was so easy a thing.
Having determined not to establish morality on any innate principles of the soul, these philosophers founded it on the fact common to all animated nature, the feeling of self-interest. Already deism had rejected the evidence of a divine revelation. Now atheism raised a more audacious front, and proclaimed that all religious sentiment was but the reverie of a disordered mind. The works in which this opinion is most expressly announced, date from the period of the Encyclopaedia.
D'Alembert (1717-1773) is now chiefly known as the author of the preliminary discourse of the Encyclopaedia, which is ranked among the princ.i.p.al works of the age.
Diderot (1714-1784), had he devoted himself to any one sphere, instead of wandering about in the chaos of opinions which rose and perished around him, might have left a lasting reputation, and posterity, instead of merely repeating his name, would have spoken of his works. He may be regarded as a writer injurious at once to literature and to morals.
The most faithful disciple of the philosophy of this period was Helvetius (1715-1771), known chiefly by his work, ”On the Mind,” the object of which is to prove that physical sensibility is the origin of all our thoughts.
Of all the writers who maintained this opinion, none have represented it in so gross a manner. His work was condemned by the Sorbonne, the pope, and the parliament; it was burned by the hand of the hangman, and the author was compelled to retract it.
Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) was a writer who marched under none of the recognized banners of the day. The Encyclopaedists had flattered themselves that they had tuned the opinion of all Europe to their philosophical strain, when suddenly they heard his discordant note.
Without family, without friends, without home, wandering from place to place, from one condition in life to another, he conceived a species of revolt against society, and a feeling of bitterness against those civil organizations in which he could never find a suitable place. He combated the atheism of the Encyclopaedists, their materialism and contempt for moral virtue, for pure deism was his creed. He believed in a Supreme Being, a future state, and the excellence of virtue, but denying all revealed religion, he would have men advance in the paths of virtue, freely and proudly, from love of virtue itself, and not from any sense of duty or obligation. In the ”Social Contract” he traced the principles of government and laws in the nature of man, and endeavored to show the end which they proposed to themselves by living in communities, and the best means of attaining this end.
The two most notable works of Rousseau are ”Julie,” or the ”Nouvelle Helose,” and ”Emile.” The former is a kind of romance, owing its interest mainly to development of character, and not to incident or plot. Emile embodies a system of education in which the author's thoughts are digested and arranged. He gives himself an imaginary pupil, the representative of that life of spontaneous development which was the writer's ideal. In this work there is an episode, the ”Savoyard Vicar's Confession of Faith,”
which is a declaration of pure deism, leveled especially against the errors of Catholicism. It raised a perfect tempest against the author from every quarter. The council of Geneva caused his book to be burned by the executioner, and the parliament of Paris threatened him with imprisonment.
Under these circ.u.mstances he wrote his ”Confessions,” which he believed would vindicate him before the world. The reader, who may expect to find this book abounding with at least as much virtue as a man may possess without Christian principle, will find in it not a single feature of greatness; it is a proclamation of disagreeable faults; and yet he would persuade us that he was virtuous, by giving the clearest proofs that he was not.
To the names of Montesquieu, Voltaire, and Rousseau, must be added that of Buffon (1707-1788), and we have the four writers of this age who left all their contemporaries far behind. Buffon having been appointed superintendent of the Jardin des Plantes, and having enriched this fine establishment, and gathered into it, from all parts of the world, various productions of nature, conceived the project of composing a natural history, which should embrace the whole immensity of being, animate and inanimate. He first laid down the theory of the earth, then treated the natural history of man, afterwards that of viviparous quadrupeds and birds. The first volumes of his work appeared in 1749; the most important of the supplementary matter which followed was the ”Epochs of Nature.” He gave incredible attention to his style, and is one of the most brilliant writers of the eighteenth century. No naturalist has ever equaled him in the magnificence of his theories, or the animation of his descriptions of the manners and habits of animals. It is said that he wrote the ”Epochs of Nature” eleven times over. He not only recited his compositions aloud, in order to judge of the rhythm and cadence, but he made a point of being in full dress before he sat down to write, believing that the splendor of his habiliments impressed his language with that pomp and elegance which he so much admired, and which is his distinguis.h.i.+ng characteristic. Buffon, while maintaining friends.h.i.+p with the celebrated men of his age, did not identify himself with the party of the encyclopaedists, or the sects into which they were divided. But he lived among men who deemed physical nature alone worthy of study, and the wits of the age who had succeeded in discovering how a Supreme Being might be dispensed with. Buffon evaded the subject entirely, and amid all his lofty soarings showed no disposition to rise to the Great First Cause. After his time, science lost its contemplative and poetical character, and acquired that of intelligent observation. It became a practical thing, and entered into close alliance with the arts. The arts and sciences, thus combined, became the glory of France, as literature had been in the preceding age.
The declining years of Voltaire and Rousseau witnessed no rising genius of similar power, but some authors of a secondary rank deserve notice.
Marmontel (1728-1799) is distinguished as the writer of ”Belisarius,” a philosophical romance, ”Moral Tales,” and ”Elements of Literature.” He endeavors to lead his readers to the enjoyments of literature, instead of detaining them with frigid criticisms.
La Harpe (1739-1803) displayed great eloquence in literary criticism, and some of his works maintain their place, though they have little claim to originality.
Many writers devoted themselves to history, but the spirit of French philosophy was uncongenial to this species of composition, and the age does not afford one remarkable historian. The fame of the Abbe Raynal (1718-1796) rests chiefly on his ”History of the Two Indies.” It is difficult to conceive how a sober man could have arrived at such delirium of opinion, and how he could so complacently exhibit principles which tended to overthrow the whole system of society. Scarcely a crime was committed during the revolution, with which this century closes, but could find its advocate in this declaimer. When, however, Raynal found himself in the midst of the turmoils he had suggested, he behaved with justice, moderation, and courage; thus proving that his opinions were not the result of experience.
The days of true religious eloquence were past; faith was extinct among the greater part of the community, and cold and timid among the rest.