Spain.' In it Condorcet directs that his daughter, in case of his wife's
death, shall be brought up by Madame Vernet, whom she is to call her
second mother, and who is to see her so educated as to have means of
independent support either from painting or engraving. 'Should it be
necessary for my child to quit France, she may count on protection in
England from my Lord Stanhope and my Lord Daer. In America, reliance
may be placed on Jefferson and Bache, the grandson of Franklin. She is,
therefore, to make the English language her first study.'"
Such was the last epistle ever written by Condorcet. Notwithstanding
the precautions taken by his friends, he escaped into the streets--from
thence having appealed in vain to friends for assistance, he visited
some quarries. Here he remained from the 5th to the evening of the 7th
of April, 1794. Hunger drove him to the village of Clamait, when he
applied at an hostelry for refreshment. He described himself as a
carpenter out of employment, and ordered an omelet. This was an age
of suspicion, and the landlord of the house soon discovered that the
wanderer's hands were white and undisfigured with labor, while his
conversation bore no resemblance to that of a common artificer. The
good dame of the house inquired how many eggs he would have in his dish.
Twelve, was the answer. Twelve eggs for a joiner's supper! This was
heresy against the equality of man. They demanded his passport--he had
not got one--the only appearance of anything of the sort was a scrap of
paper, scrawled over with Latin epigrams. This was conclusive evidence
to the village Dogberries that he was a traitor and an aristocrat. The
authorities signed the warrant for his removal to Paris. Ironed to two
officers they started on the march. The first evening they arrived at
Bourg-la-Reine, where they deposited their prisoner in the gaol of
that town. In the morning the gaoler found him a corpse. He had taken a
poison of great force, which he habitually carried in a ring. Thus
ended the life of the great Encyclopædist--a man great by his many
virtues--who reflected honor on France by his science, his literary
triumphs, and his moral heroism. He had not the towering energy
of Marat, nor the gushing eloquence of Danton, neither had he the
superstitious devotion to abstract ideas which characterized the whole
course of Robespierre's life. The oratory of Danton, like that of Marat,
only excited the people to dissatisfaction; they struck down effete
institutions, but they were not the men to inaugurate a new society. It
is seldom we find the pioneers of civilization the best mechanics. They
strike down the forest--they turn the undergrowth--they throw a log over
the stream, but they seldom rear factories, or invent tubular bridges.
Amongst the whole of the heroes of the French Revolution, we must admire
the Girondists, as being the most daring, and, at the same time, the
most constructive of all who met either in the Constituent Assembly or
the Convention. The Jacobin faction dealt simply with politics through
the abstract notions of Rousseau: but of what use are "human rights" if
we have to begin _de novo_ to put into operation?--rather let us unite
the conservative educationalism of Socialism with the wild democracy of
ignorance. Politics never can be successful unless married to Socialism.
It was not long after Condorcet's death, before the Committee of Public
Instruction undertook the charge of publishing the whole of his works.
For this they have been censured on many grounds. We consider that it
was one of the few good things accomplished by that Committee. There is
nothing in the works of this writer which have a distinctive peculiarity
to us; few great writers who direct opinion at the time they write,
appear to posterity in the same light as they did to a public inflamed
by passion, and trembling under reiterated wrongs. When we look at the
works of D'Holbach, we find a standard treatise, which is a land-mark to
the present day; but at the time the "System of Nature" was written, it
had not one tithe the popularity which it now enjoys; it did not produce
an effect superior to a new sarcasm of Voltaire, or an epigram of
Diderot. Condorcet was rather the co-laborer and _literateur_ of the
party, than the prophet of the new school. Voltaire was the Christ,
and Condorcet the St. Paul of the new faith. In political economy, the
doctrines of the English and Scotch schools were elaborated to their
fullest extent. Retrenchment in pensions and salaries, diminution of
armies, equal taxation, the resumption by the State of all the Church
lands, the development of the agricultural and mechanical resources,
the abolition of the monopolies, total free trade, local government, and
national education; such-were the doctrines for which Turgot fought, and
Condorcet popularized. If they had been taken in time, France would
have escaped a revolution, and Europe would have been ruled by peace
and freedom. It may be asked, who brought about the advocacy of those
doctrines, for they were not known before the middle of the eighteenth
century? They were introduced as a novelty, and defended as a paradox.
France had been exhausted by wars, annoyed by _ennui_, brilliant above
all by her genius, she was struck with lassitude for her licentious
crimes. There was an occasion for a new school. Without it, France, like
Carthage, would have bled to death on the hecatomb of her own lust. Her
leading men cast their eyes to England; it was then the most progressive
nation in existence. The leading men of that country were intimate with
the rulers of the French; the books of each land were read with avidity
by their neighbors; a difference was observable between the two: but how
that difference was to be reconciled was past the skill of the wisest to
unravel. England had liberal institutions, and a people with part of the
substance, and many of the forms of Liberalism, along with a degree of
education which kept them in comparative ignorance, yet did not offer
any obstacles to raising themselves in the social sphere. Before France
could compete with England, she had to rid herself of the feudal system,
and obtain a Magna Charta. She was above four centuries behind-hand
here. She had to win her spurs through revolutions, like those of
Cromwell's and that of 1688, and the still greater ones of Parliament.
The Freethinkers of England prepared the Whig revolution of William, by
advocating the only scheme which was at the time practicable, for of the
two--the Protestant and the Catholic religion--the former is far more
conducive to the liberties of a people than the latter, and at the time,
and we may also say, nearer the present, the people were not prepared
for any organic change. This being the case, it is not to be wondered
at that the French Revolution was a failure as a constructive effort;
it was a success as a grand outbreak of power; showing politicians where
(in the future) to rely for success. The men who undertook to bring
about this Revolution are not to be censured for its non-success. They
wished to copy English institutions, and adapt them to those of the
French; for this purpose, the Continental League was formed, each member
of which pledged himself to uproot, as far as lay in his power,
the Catholic Church in France. A secret name was given to
it--_L'Infame_--and an organized attack was speedily commenced. The
men at the head of the movement, besides Voltaire and Frederick, were
D'Alembert, Diderot, Grim, St. Lambert, Condillac, Helvetius, Jordan,
Lalande, Montesquieu, and a host of others of less note. Con-dorcet,
being secretary of the Academy, corresponded with, and directed the
movements of all, in the absence of his chief. Every new book was
criticised--refutations were published to the leading theological works
of the age; but by far the roost effective progress was made by the
means of poems, essays, romances, epigrams, and scientific papers. The
songs of France at this era were written by the philosophers; and this
spirit was diffused among the people. In a country so volatile and
excitable as the French, it is difficult to estimate too highly the
power of a ballad warfare. The morality of Abbots and Nuns were sung in
strains as rhapsodical, and couplets as voluptuous as the vagaries of
the Songs of Solomon.
Much discretion was required, that no separate species of warfare should
be overdone, lest a nausea of sentiment should revert upon the authors,
and thus lead to a reaction more sanguinary than the force of the
philosophers could control. In all those cases Condorcet was the prime
mover and the agent concerned. He communicated with Voltaire on every
new theory, and advised him when and how to strike, and when to _rest_.
In all those matters Condorcet was obeyed. There was a smaller section
of the more serious philosophers who sympathized with, yet did not
labor simultaneously for the common cause--those men, the extreme
Atheists--clever but cautious--men who risked nothing--Mirabeau and
D'Holbach were the types of this class. It is well known that both
Frederick, Voltaire, and Condorcet opposed those sections, as likely to
be aiming at too much for the time.
When it was considered prudent to take a more decided step, the
Encyclopædia was formed. Condorcet had a principal part in this
work, which shook priestcraft on its throne; it spread consternation
where-ever it appeared, and was one of the main causes of the great
outbreak. No one can sufficiently praise a work of such magnitude; nor
can any one predicate when its effects will cease.
In the "Life of Condorcet," by Arago, there is a curious extract copied
from a collection of anecdotes, said to be compiled from his note-books,
and dignified with the title of "Mémoires de Condorcet." It relates to
a conversation between the Abbe Galiana and Diderot, in which it is said
Condorcet acquiesced. The subject is the fair sex:--
Diderot.--How do you define woman?
Galiana.--An animal naturally feeble and sick.
Diderot.--Feeble? Has she not as much courage as man?
Galiana.--Do you know what courage is? It is the effect of terror. You
let your leg be cut off, because you are afraid of dying. Wise people
are never courageous--they are prudent--that is to say, poltroons.
Diderot.--Why call you woman naturally sick!
Galiana.--Like all animals, she is sick until she attains her perfect
growth. Then she has a peculiar symptom which takes up the fifth part
of her time. Then come breeding and nursing, two long and troublesome
complaints. In short, they have only intervals of health, until
they turn a certain corner, and then _elles ne sont plus de malades
peut-être--elles ne sont que des reilles_.
Diderot.--Observe her at a ball, no vigor, then, M. l'Abbe?
Galiana.--Stop the fiddles! put out the lights! she will scarcely crawl
to her coach.
Diderot.--See her in love.
Galiana.--It is painful to see anybody in a fever.
Diderot.--M. l'Abbe, have you no faith in education?
Galiana.--Not so much as in instinct. A woman is habitually ill. She is
affectionate, engaging, irritable, capricious, easily offended, easily
appeased, a trifle amuses her. The imagination is always in play. Fear,
hope, joy, despair, and disgust, follow each other more rapidly, are
manifested more strongly, effaced more quickly, than with us. They like
a plentiful repose, at intervals company; anything for excitement. Ask
the doctor if it is not the same with his patients. But ask yourself,
do we not all treat them as we do sick people, lavish attention, soothe,
flatter, caress, and get tired of them?
Condorcet, in a letter, remarking on the above conversation, says:--"I
do not insist upon it as probable that woman will ever be Euler
or Voltaire; but I am satisfied that she may one day be Pascal or
Rousseau." This very qualification, we consider, is sufficient to
absolve Condorcet from, the charge of being a "woman hater." His
opponents, when driven from every other source, have fallen back on
this, and alleged that he viewed the sexes as unequal, and that the
stronger had a right to lord it over the weaker. But which is the
weaker? Euler and Voltaire were masculine men. A woman to be masculine,
in the true sense of the word, is an anomaly, to be witnessed with pain.
She is not in a normal condition. She is a monster. Women should live in
society fully educated and developed in their physical frame, and then
they would be more feminine in proportion as they approach the character
of Mary Wollstonecraft. They have no right to domineer as tyrants, and
then fall into the most abject of slaves. In each of the characters of
Pascal and Rousseau, was an excess of sensibility, which overbalanced
their other qualities, and rendered their otherwise great talents
wayward, and, to a certain extent, fruitless. The peculiarity of man
is physical power, and intellectual force; that of woman is an acute
sensibility. Condorcet, then, was justified in expressing the opinions
he avowed upon the subject.
In a paper, in the year 1766, read before the "Academy," on "Ought
Popular Errors to be Eradicated!" Condorcet says, "If the people
are often tempted to commit crimes in order that they may obtain the
necessaries of life, it is the fault of the laws; and, as bad laws are
the product of errors, it would be more simple to abolish those errors
than to add others for the correction of their natural effects. Error,
no doubt, may do some good; it may prevent some crimes, but it will
occasion mischiefs greater than these. By putting nonsense into the
heads of the people, you make them stupid; and from stupidity to
ferocity there is but a step. Consider--if the motives you suggest
for being just make but a slight impression on the mind, that will not
direct the conduct--if the impressions be lively, they will produce
enthusiasm, and enthusiasm for error. Now, the ignorant enthusiast is
no longer a man; he is the most terrible of wild beasts. In fact, the
number of criminals among the men with prejudices (Christians) is in
greater proportion to the total number of our population, than the
number of criminals in the class above prejudices (Freethinkers) is to
the total of that class. I am not ignorant that, in the actual state of
Europe, the people are not, perhaps, at all prepared for a true
doctrine of morals; but this degraded obtuseness is the work of social
institutions and of superstitions. Men are not born blockheads; they
become such. By speaking reason to the people, even in the little time
they give to the cultivation of their intellect, we might easily teach
them the little that it is necessary for them to know. Even the idea of
the respect that they should have for the property of the rich, is
only difficult to be insinuated among them--first, because they look
on riches as a sort of usurpation, of theft perpetrated upon them, and
unhappily this opinion is in great part true--secondly, because their
excessive poverty makes them always consider themselves in the case of
absolute necessity--a case in which even very severe moralists have been
of their mind--thirdly, because they are as much despised and maltreated
for being poor, as they would be after they had lowered themselves by
larcenies. It is merely, therefore, because institutions are bad, that
the people are so commonly a little thievish upon principle."
We should have much liked to have given some extended quotations from
the works of Condorcet; but, owing to their general character, we cannot
extract any philosophic formula which would be generally interesting.
His "Lettres d'un Théologien" are well deserving of a reprint; they
created an astounding sensation when they appeared, being taken for the
work of Voltaire--the light, easy, graceful style, with deeply concealed
irony, the crushing retort and the fiery sarcasm. They made even priests
laugh by their Attic wit and incongruous similes. But it was in the
"Academy" where Condorcet's influence was supreme. He immortalized the
heroes as they fell, and pushed the cause on by his professional duties.
He was always awake to the call of duty, and nobly did he work his
battery. He is now in the last grand sleep of man--the flowers of poesy
are woven in amarynth wreaths over his tomb.
A.C.
SPINOZA.
Baruch Spinoza, or Espinoza, better known under the name of Benedict
Spinoza (as rendered by himself in the Latin language,) was born at
Amsterdam, in Holland, on the 24th of November, 1632. There is some
uncertainty as to this date, as there are several dates fixed by
different authors, both for his birth and death, but we have adopted the
biography given by Dr. C. H. Bruder, in the preface to his edition
of Spinoza's works. His parents were Jews of the middle, or, perhaps,
somewhat humbler class. His father was originally a Spanish merchant,
who, to escape persecution, had emigrated to Holland. Although the
life of our great philosopher is one full of interesting incidents,
and deserves to be treated fully, we have but room to give a very brief
sketch, referring our readers, who may wish to learn more of Spinoza's
life, to Lewes's "Biographical History of Philosophy," _Westminster
Review_, No. 77, and "Encyclopædia Brittannica." p. 144. His doctrines
we will let speak for themselves in his own words, trusting thereby to
give the reader an opportunity of knowing who and what Spinoza really
was. One man shrinks with horror from him as an Atheist. Voltaire
says, that he was an Atheist, and taught Atheism. Another calls him "a
God-intoxicated man." We present him a mighty thinker, a master mind,
a noble, fearless utterer of free and noble thoughts, a hard-working,
honest, independent man; as one who, two centuries ago, gave forth to
the world a series of thinkings which have crushed, with resistless
force, the theological shell in the centre of which the priests hide
the kernel "truth."
Spinoza appears in his boyhood to have been an apt scholar, and to have
rapidly mastered the tasks set him by his teachers. Full of rabbinical
lore he won the admiration of the Rabbi Moses Mortira, but the pupil
rose higher than his master, and attempted to solve problems which the
learned rabbis were content to reverence as mysteries not capable
of solution. First they remonstrated, then threatened; still Spinoza
persevered in his studies, and in making known the result to those
around him. He was threatened with excommunication, and withdrew himself
from the synagogue. One more effort was made by the rabbis, who offered
Spinoza a pension of about £100 a-year if he would attend the
synagogue more frequently, and consent to be silent with regard to
his philosophical thinkings. This offer he indignantly refused. Reason
failing, threats proving futile, and gold being treated with scorn,
one was found sufficiently fanatic to try a further experiment, which
resulted in an attempt on Spinoza's life; the knife, however, luckily
missed its aim, and our hero escaped. At last, in the year 1660,
Spinoza, being then twenty-eight years of age, was solemnly
excommunicated from the synagogue. His friends and relations shut their
doors against him. An outcast from the home of his youth, he gained
a humble livelihood by polishing glasses for microscopes, telescopes,
etc., at which he was very expert. While thus acquiring, by his own
handiwork, the means of subsistence, he was studying hard, devoting
every possible hour to philosophical research. Spinoza became master of
the Dutch, Hebrew, German, Spanish, Portuguese, and Latin languages, the
latter of which he acquired in the house of one Francis Van den Ende,
from whom it is more than probable he received as much instruction in
Atheism as in Latin. Spinoza only appears to have once fallen in love,
and this was with Van den Ende's daughter, who was herself a good
linguist, and who gave Spinoza instruction in Latin. She, however,
although willing to be his instructress and companion in a philogical
path, declined to accept his love, and thus Spinoza was left to
philosophy alone. After his excommunication he retired to Rhynsburg,
near the City of Leyden, in Holland, and there studied the works of
Descartes. Three years afterwards he published an abridgment of the
"Meditations" of the great father of philosophy, which created a
profound sensation. In an appendix to this abridgment were contained the
germs of those thinkings in which the pupil outdid the master, and the
student progressed beyond the philosopher. In the month of June, 1664,
Spinoza removed to Woorburg, a small village near the Hague, where he
was visited by persons from different parts, attracted by his fame as a
philosopher; and at last, after many solicitations he came to the
Hague, and resided there altogether. In 1670 he published his "Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus." This raised him a host of opponents; many writers
rushed eager for the fray, to tilt with the poor Dutch Jew. His book was
officially condemned and forbidden, and a host of refutations (?) were
circulated against it. In spite of the condemnation it has outlived the
refutations.
Spinoza died on the 21st or 22nd of February, 1677, in his forty-fifth
year, and was buried on the 25th of February at the Hague. He was frugal
in his habits, subsisting independently on the earnings of his own
hands. Honorable in all things, he refused to accept the chair of
Professor of Philosophy, offered to him by the Elector, and this because
he did not wish to be circumscribed in his thinking, or in the freedom
of utterance of his thoughts. He also refused a pension offered to him
by Louis XIV, saying that he had no intention of dedicating
anything to that monarch. The following is a list of Spinoza's
works:--"Principiorum Philosophise Renati Descartes;" "Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus;" "Ethica;" "Tractatus Politi-cus;" "De Emandatione
Intellectus;" "Epistolæ;" "Grammaticus Hebracæ," etc. There are also
several spurious works ascribed to Spinoza. The "Tractatus Politicus"
has been translated into English by William Maccall, who seems fully to
appreciate the greatness of the philosopher, although he will not admit
the usefulness of Spinoza's logic. Maccall does not see the utility of
that very logic which compelled him to admit Spinoza's truth. We are not
aware of any other translation of Spinoza's works except that of a
small portion of his "Ethica," by Lewes. This work, which was originally
published in 1677, commenced with eight definitions, which, together
with the following axioms and propositions, were reprinted from the
_Westminster Review_ in the _Library of Reason_:--
DEFINITIONS.
I. By cause of itself I understand that, the essence of which involves
existence: or that, the nature of which can only be considered as
existent.
II. A thing finite is that which can be limited (terminari potest)
by another thing of the same nature--_ergo_, body is said to be finite
because it can always be conceived as larger. So thought is limited by
other thoughts. But body does not limit thought, nor thought limit body.
III. By substance I understand that which is in itself, and is conceived
_per se_--that is, the conception of which does not require the
conception of anything else as antecedent to it.
IV. By attribute I understand that which the mind perceives as
constituting the very essence of substance.
V. By modes I understand the accidents (affectiones) of substance; or
that which is in something else, through which also it is conceived.
VI. By God I understand the being absolutely infinite; that is, the
substance consisting of infinite attributes, each of which expresses an
infinite and eternal essence.
_Explication_, I say absolutely infinite, but not in _suo genere_; for
to whatever is infinite, but not in _suo genere_, we can deny infinite
attributes; but that which is absolutely infinite, to its essence
pertains everything which implies essence, and involves no negation.