The ground had been thus very fully covered by the defence in

France before the main battle in England began; and when a new

French campaign commenced with Voltaire, the defence against

that incomparable attack, so far as the system allowed of any,

was probably as good as it could have been made in England, save

insofar as the Protestants gave up modern miracles, while most of

the Catholics claimed them for their Church. Counterblasts such

as the essay of Linguet, Le Fanatisme des Philosophes (1764),

were but general indictments of rationalism; and other apologetic

treatises, as we saw, handled only the most prominent books on

the other side. It should be noted, too, that as late as 1764

the police made it almost impossible to obtain in Paris works

of Voltaire recently printed in Holland (Grimm, vii, 123, 133,

434). But, as Paley admitted with reference to Gibbon ("Who can

refute a sneer?"), the new attack was in any case very hard to

meet. A sneer is not hard to refute when it is unfounded, inasmuch

as it implies a proposition, which can be rebutted or turned by

another sneer. The Anglican Church had been well enough pleased by

the polemic sneers of Swift and Berkeley; but the other side had

the heavier guns, and of the mass of defences produced in England

nothing remains save in the neat compilation of Paley. Alison's

whole avowal might equally well apply to anything produced in

England as against Voltaire. The skeptical line of argument for

faith had been already employed by Huet and Pascal and Fénelon,

with visibly small success; Berkeley had achieved nothing with

it as against English deism; and Butler had no such effect in his

day in England as to induce French Catholics to use him. (He does

not appear to have been translated into French till 1821.)

An Oratorian priest, again, translated the anti-deistic essays

of President Forbes; and the Pensées Theologiques relatives aux

erreurs du temps of Père Jamin (1768; 4e édit. 1773) were thought

worthy of being translated into German, poor as they were. With

their empty affirmation of authority they suggest so much blank

cartridge, which could avail nothing with thinking men; and here

doubtless the English defence makes a better impression. But,

on the other hand, Voltaire circulated widely in England, and was

no better answered there than in France. His attack was, in truth,

at many points peculiarly baffling, were it only by its inimitable

wit. The English replies to Spinoza, again, were as entirely

inefficient or deficient as the French; the only intelligent

English answers to Hume on Miracles (the replies on other issues

were of no account) made use of the French investigations of the

Jansenist miracles; and the replies to Gibbon were in general

ignominious failures.

Finally, though the deeper reasonings of Diderot were over the

heads alike of the French and the English clergy, the Système

de la Nature of d'Holbach was met skilfully enough at many

points by G. J. Holland (1772), who, though not a Frenchman,

wrote excellent French, and supplied for French readers a

very respectable rejoinder; [1044] whereas in England there was

practically none. In this case, of course, the defence was deistic;

as was that of Voltaire, who criticized d'Holbach as Bolingbroke

attacked Spinoza and Hobbes. But the Examen du Matérialisme of the

Abbé Bergier (1771), who was a member of the Academy of Sciences,

was at least as good as anything that could then have been done in

the Church of England; and the same may be said of his reply to

Fréret's (really Burigny's) Examen. It is certainly poor enough;

but Bishop Watson used some of its arguments for his reply to

Paine. Broadly speaking, as we have said, much more of French

than of English intelligence had been turned to the dispute

in the third quarter of the century. In England, political and

industrial discussion relieved the pressure on creed; in France,

before the Revolution, the whole habit of absolutism tended to

restrict discussion to questions of creed; and the attack would

in any case have had the best of it, because it embodied all

the critical forces hitherto available. The controversy thus

went much further than the pre-Humian issues raised in England;

and the English orthodoxy of the end of the century was, in

comparison, intellectually as weak as politically and socially it

was strong. In France, from the first, the greater intellectual

freedom in social intercourse, exemplified in the readiness of

women to declare themselves freethinkers (cp. Jamin, as cited,

ch. xix, § 1), would have made the task of the apologists harder

even had they been more competent.

16. Above the scattered band of minor combatants rises a group of

writers of special power, several of whom, without equalling Voltaire

in ubiquity of influence, rivalled him in intellectual power and

industry. The names of Diderot, D'Holbach, D'Alembert, Helvétius, and

Condorcet are among the first in literary France of the generation

before the Revolution; after them come Volney and Dupuis; and in

touch with the whole series stands the line of great mathematicians

and physicists (to which also belongs D'Alembert), Laplace, Lagrange,

Lalande, Delambre. When to these we add the names of Montesquieu,

Buffon, Chamfort, Rivarol, Vauvenargues; of the materialists La Mettrie

and Cabanis; of the philosophers Condillac and Destutt de Tracy; of

the historian Raynal; of the poet André Chénier; of the politicians

Turgot, Mirabeau, Danton, Desmoulins, Robespierre--all (save perhaps

Raynal) deists or else pantheists or atheists--it becomes clear that

the intelligence of France was predominantly rationalistic before

the Revolution, though the mass of the nation certainly was not.

It is necessary to deprecate Mr. Lecky's statement (Rationalism

in Europe, i, 176) that "Raynal has taken, with Diderot, a place

in French literature which is probably permanent"--an estimate as

far astray as the declaration on the same page that the English

deists are buried in "unbroken silence." Raynal's vogue in his

day was indeed immense (cp. Morley, Diderot, ch. xv); and Edmond

Scherer (Études sur la litt. du 18e Siècle, 1891, pp. 277-78) held

that Raynal's Histoire philosophique des deux Indes had had more

influence on the French Revolution than even Rousseau's Contrat

Social. But the book has long been discredited (cp. Scherer,

pp. 275-76). A biographical Dictionary of 1844 spoke of it as

"cet ouvrage ampoulé qu'on ne lit pas aujourd'hui." Although the

first edition (1770) passed the censure only by means of bribery,

and the second (1780) was publicly burned, and its author forced to

leave France, he was said to reject, in religion, "only the pope,

hell, and monks" (Scherer, p. 286); and most of the anti-religious

declamation in the first edition of the Histoire is said to be

from the pen of Diderot, who wrote it very much at random, at

Raynal's request.

No list of orthodox names remotely comparable with these can be drawn

from the literature of France, or indeed of any other country of that

time. Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778), the one other pre-eminent

figure, though not an anti-Christian propagandist, is distinctly on

the side of deism. In the Contrat Social, [1045] writing with express

approbation of Hobbes, he declares that "the Christian law is at bottom

more injurious than useful to the sound constitution of the State"; and

even the famous Confession of Faith of a Savoyard Vicar in the Émile is

anti-revelationist, and practically anti-clerical. He was accordingly

anathematized by the Sorbonne, which found in Émile nineteen heresies;

the book was seized and burned both at Paris and at Geneva within a few

weeks of its appearance, [1046] and the author decreed to be arrested;

even the Contrat Social was seized and its vendors imprisoned. All

the while he had maintained in Émile doctrines of the usefulness of

religious delusion and fanaticism. Still, although his temperamental

way of regarding things has a clear affinity with some later religious

philosophy of a more systematic sort, he undoubtedly made for

freethought as well as for the revolutionary spirit in general. Thus

the cause of Christianity stood almost denuded of intellectually

eminent adherents in the France of 1789; for even among the writers

who had dealt with public questions without discussing religion, or

who had criticized Rousseau and the philosophes--as the Abbés Mably,

Morellet, Millot--the tone was essentially rationalistic.

It has been justly enough argued, concerning Rousseau (see

below, p. 287), that the generation of the Revolution made him

its prophet in his own despite, and that had he lived twenty

years longer he would have been its vehement adversary. But this

does not alter the facts as to his influence. A great writer of

emotional genius, like Rousseau, inevitably impels men beyond the

range of his own ideals, as in recent times Ruskin and Tolstoy,

both anti-Socialists, have led thousands towards Socialism. In

his own generation and the next, Rousseau counted essentially for

criticism of the existing order; and it was the revolutionaries,

never the conservatives, who acclaimed him. De Tocqueville

(Hist. philos. du règne de Louis XV, 1849, i, 33) speaks of his

"impiété dogmatique." Martin du Theil, in his J. J. Rousseau

apologiste de la religion chrétienne (2e édit. 1840), makes out

his case by identifying emotional deism with Christianity, as did

Rousseau himself when he insisted that "the true Christianity

is only natural religion well explained." Rousseau's praise of

the gospel and of the character of Jesus was such as many deists

acquiesced in. Similar language, in the mouth of Matthew Arnold,

gave rather more offence to Gladstone, as a believing Christian,

than did the language of simple unbelief; and a recent Christian

polemist, at the close of a copious monograph, has repudiated the

association of Rousseau with the faith (see J. F. Nourrisson,

J. J. Rousseau et le Rousseauisme, 1903, p. 497 sq.). What

is true of him is that he was more religiously a theist than

Voltaire, whose impeachment of Providence in the poem on the

Earthquake of Lisbon he sought strenuously though not very

persuasively to refute in a letter to the author. But, with

all his manifold inconsistencies, which may be worked down

to the neurosis so painfully manifest in his life and in his

relations to his contemporaries, he never writes as a believer

in the dogmas of Christianity or in the principle of revelation;

and it was as a deist that he was recognized by his Christian

contemporaries. A demi-Christian is all that Michelet will call

him. His compatriot the Swiss pastor Roustan, located in London,

directed against him his Offrande aux Autels et à la Patrie, ou

Défense du Christianisme (1764), regarding him as an assailant. The

work of the Abbé Bergier, Le Déisme refuté par lui-même (1765,

and later), takes the form of letters addressed to Rousseau, and

is throughout an attack on his works, especially the Émile. When,

therefore, Buckle (1-vol. ed. p. 475) speaks of him as not having

attacked Christianity, and Lord Morley (Rousseau, ch. xiv) treats

him as creating a religious reaction against the deists, they do

not fully represent his influence on his time. As we have seen,

he stimulated Voltaire to new audacities by his example.

17. An interlude in the critical campaign, little noticed at the time,

developed importance a generation later. In 1753 Jean Astruc, doctor

of medicine, published after long hesitation his Conjectures on the

original documents which Moses seems to have used in composing the

book of Genesis. Only in respect of his flash of insight into the

composite structure of the Pentateuch was Astruc a freethinker. His

hesitation to publish was due to his fear that les pretendus esprits

forts might make a bad use of his work; and he was quite satisfied

that Moses was the author of the Pentateuch as it stands. The denial

of that authorship, implied in the criticisms of Hobbes and Spinoza,

he described as "the disease of the last century." This attitude may

explain the lack of interest in Astruc's work shown by the freethinkers

of the time. [1047] Nonetheless, by his perception of the clue given

by the narrative use of the two names Yahweh and Elohim in Genesis,

he laid a new foundation of the Higher Criticism of the Bible in modern

times, advancing alike on Spinoza and on Simon. For freethought he had

"builded better than he knew."

18. In the select Parisian arena of the Académie, the intellectual

movement of the age is as it were dramatized; and there more clearly

than in the literary record we can trace the struggle of opinions,

from the admission of Voltaire (1746) onwards. In the old days

the Académie had been rather the home of convention, royalism,

and orthodoxy than of ideas, though before Voltaire there were some

freethinking members of the lesser Académies, notably Boindin. [1048]

The admission of Montesquieu (1728), after much opposition from

the court, preludes a new era; and from the entrance of Voltaire,

fourteen years after his first attempt, [1049] the atmosphere begins

perceptibly to change. When, in 1727, the academician Bonamy had read

a memoir On the character and the paganism of the emperor Julian,

partly vindicating him against the aspersions of the Christian Fathers,

the Academy feared to print the paper, though its author was a devout

Catholic. [1050] When the Abbé La Bletterie, also orthodox, read to

the Academy portions of his Vie de Julien, the members were not now

scandalized, though the Abbé's Jansenism moved the King to veto his

nomination. So, when Blanchard in 1735 read a memoir on Les exorcismes

magiques there was much trepidation among the members, and again the

Secretary inserted merely an analysis, concluding with the words of

Philetas, "Believe and fear God; beware of questioning." [1051] Even

such a play of criticism as the challenging of the early history

of Rome by Lévesque de Pouilly (brother of Lévesque de Burigny)

in a dissertation before the Académie in 1722, roused the fears and

the resentment of the orthodox; the Abbé Sallier, in undertaking to

refute him, insinuated that he had shown a spirit which might be

dangerous to other beliefs; and whispers of atheism passed among

the academicians. [1052] Pouilly, who had been made a freethinker

by English contacts, went again to England later, and spent his last

years at Rheims. [1053] His thesis was much more powerfully sustained

in 1738 by Beaufort, in the famous dissertation Sur l'incertitude des

cinq premiers siècles de l'histoire romaine; but Beaufort was of a

refugee-Huguenot stock; his book was published, under his initials,

at Utrecht; and not till 1753 did the Académie award him a medal--on

the score of an earlier treatise. And in 1748 the Religio veterum

Persarum of the English Orientalist Hyde, published as long before

as 1700, found a vehement assailant within the Academy in the Abbé

Foucher, who saw danger in a favourable view of any heathen religion.

Yet even in the time of Louis XIV the Abbé Mongault, tutor of the son

of the Regent, and noted alike for his private freethinking and for

the rigid orthodoxy which he instilled into his pupil, treated the

historic subject of the divine honours rendered to Roman governors

with such latitude as to elicit from Fréret, in his éloge of Mongault,

the remark that the tutor had reserved to himself a liberty of thought

which he doubtless felt to be dangerous in a prince. [1054] And after

1750 the old order can be seen passing away. D'Argenson notes in his

diary in 1754: "I observe in the Académie de belles-lettres, of which

I am a member, that there begins to be a decided stir against the

priests. It began to show itself at the death of Boindin, to whom our

bigots refused a service at the Oratory and a public commemoration. Our

deist philosophers were shocked, and ever since, at each election,

they are on guard against the priests and the bigots. Nowhere is

this division so marked, and it begins to bear fruits." [1055] The

old statesman indicates his own sympathies by adding: "Why has a bad

name been made of the title of deist? It is that of those who have

true religion in their hearts, and who have abjured a superstition

that is destructive to the whole world." It was in this year that

D'Alembert, who took nearly as much pains to stay out as Voltaire

had done to enter, [1056] was elected a member; and with two leading

encyclopédistes in the forty, and a friendly abbé (Duclos) in the

secretaryship (1755), and another zealous freethinker, Lévesque de

Burigny, admitted in 1756, [1057] the fortunes of freethought were

visibly rising. Its influence was thrown on the side of the academic

orator Thomas, a sincere believer but a hater of all persecution,

and as such offensive to the Church party. [1058]

19. In 1759 there came a check. The Encyclopédie, which had been

allowed to resume publication after its first suppression in 1752,

was again stopped; and the battle between philosophes and fanatics,

dramatized for the time being in Palissot's comedy Les Philosophes

and in Voltaire's rejoinder to Fréron, L'Écossaise, came to be

fought out in the Academy itself. The poet Lefranc de Pompignan,

[1059] elected in 1759 without any opposition from the freethinkers,

had in his youth translated Pope's "Deist's Prayer," and had suffered

for it to the extent of being deprived by D'Aguesseau of his official

charge [1060] for six months. With such a past, with a keen concern

for status, and with a character that did not stick at tergiversation,

Pompignan saw fit to signalize his election by making his discours

de réception (March, 1760) a violent attack on the whole philosophic

school, which, in his conclusion, he declared to be undermining

"equally the throne and the altar." The academicians heard him

out in perfect silence, leaving it to the few pietists among the

audience to applaud; but as soon as the reports reached Ferney there

began the vengeance of Voltaire. First came a leaflet of stinging

sentences, each beginning with Quand: "When one has translated

and even exaggerated the 'Deist's Prayer' composed by Pope ...,"

and so on. The maddened Pompignan addressed a fatuous memorial to

the King (who notoriously hated the philosophes, and had assented

only under petticoat influence to Voltaire's election [1061]); and,

presuming to print it without the usual official sanction, suffered

at the hands of Malesherbes the blow of having the printer's plant

smashed. Other combatants entered the fray. Voltaire's leaflet "les

quand" was followed by "les si, les pour, les qui, les quoi, les car,

les ah!"--by him or others--and the master-mocker produced in swift

succession three satires in verse, [1062] all accompanied by murderous

prose annotations. The speedy result was Pompignan's retirement into

provincial life. He could not face the merciless hail of rejoinders;

and when at his death, twenty-five years later, the Abbé Maury had

to pronounce his éloge, the mention of his famous humiliation was

hardly tempered by compassion. [1063]

20. Voltaire could not compass, as he for a time schemed, the election

of Diderot; but other philosophes of less note entered from time

to time; [1064] Marmontel was elected in 1763; and when in 1764

the Academy's prize for poetry was given to Chamfort for a piece

which savoured of what were then called "the detestable principles

of Montesquieu, Rousseau, and Helvétius," and in 1768 its prize for

eloquence went to the same writer, the society as a whole had acquired

a certain character for impiety. [1065] In 1767 there had occurred

the famous ecclesiastical explosion over Marmontel's philosophic

romance Bélisaire, a performance in which it is somewhat difficult

to-day to detect any exciting quality. It was by a chapter in praise

of toleration that the "universal and mediocre Marmontel" [1066]

secured from the Sorbonne the finest advertisement ever given to a

work of fiction, the ecclesiastics of the old school being still too

thoroughly steeped in the past to realize that a gospel of persecution

was a bad warcry for a religion that was being more and more put on the

defensive. Only an angry fear before the rising flood of unlicensed

literature, combining with the long-baffled desire to strike some

blow at freethinking, could have moved the Sorbonne to select for

censure the duly licensed work [1067] of a popular academician and

novelist; and it should be remembered that it was at a time of great

activity in the unlicensed production of freethinking literature

that the attack was made. The blow recoiled signally. The book

was of course promptly translated into all the languages of Europe,

selling by tens of thousands; [1068] and two sovereigns took occasion

to give it their express approval. These were the Empress Catherine

(who caused the book to be translated by members of her court while

she was making a tour of her empire, she herself taking a chapter),

and the Empress Maria-Theresa. From Catherine, herself a freethinker,

the approbation might have been expected; but the known orthodoxy

and austerity of Maria-Theresa made her support the more telling. In

France a small literary tempest raged for a year. Marmontel published

his correspondence with the syndic of the Sorbonne and with Voltaire;

and in all there appeared some dozen documents pro and con, among

them an anonymous satire by Turgot, Les xxxvii verités opposées aux

xxxvii impiétés de Bélisaire, "Par un Bachelier Ubiquiste," [1069]

which, with the contributions of Voltaire, gave the victim very much

the best of the battle.

21. Alongside of the more strictly literary or humanist movement,

too, there went on one of a scientific kind, which divided into two

lines, a speculative and a practical. On the former the freelance

philosopher Julien Offray la Mettrie gave a powerful initial push by

his materialistic theses, in which a medical knowledge that for the

time was advanced is applied with a very keen if unsystematic reasoning

faculty to the primary problem of mind and body; and others after

him continued the impulse. La Mettrie produced his Natural History

of the Mind in 1745; [1070] and in 1746 appeared the Essay on the

Origin of Human Knowledge of the Abbé Condillac, both essentially

rationalistic and anti-theological works, though differing in their

psychological positions, Condillac being a non-materialist, though

a strong upholder of "sensism." La Mettrie followed up his doctrine

with the more definitely materialistic but less heedfully planned

works, L'Homme Plante and L'Homme Machine (1748), the second of which,

published at Leyden [1071] and wickedly dedicated to the pious Baron

von Haller, was burned by order of the magistrates, its author being

at the same time expelled from Holland. Both books are remarkable

for their originality of thought, biological and ethical. Though

La Mettrie professed to think the "greatest degree of probability"

was in favour of the existence of a personal God, [1072] his other

writings gave small support to the hypothesis; and even in putting

it he rejects any inference as to worship. And he goes on to quote

very placidly an atheist who insists that only an atheistic world can

attain to happiness. It is notable that he, the typical materialist of

his age, seems to have been one of its kindliest men, by the consent

of all who knew him, [1073] though heedless in his life to the point

of ending it by eating a monstrous meal out of bravado.

The conventional denunciation of La Mettrie (endorsed by Lord

Morley, Voltaire, p. 122) proceeds ostensibly upon those of his

writings in which he discussed sexual questions with absolute

scientific freedom. He, however, insisted that his theoretic

discussion had nothing whatever to do with his practice; and there

is no evidence that he lived otherwise than as most men did in his

age, and ours. Still, the severe censure passed on him by Diderot

(Essai sur les règnes de Claude et de Néron, ed. 1782, ii, 22-24)

seems to convict him of at least levity of character. Voltaire

several times holds the same tone. But Diderot writes so angrily

that his verdict incurs suspicion.

As Lange notes, there has been much loose generalization as to

the place and bearing of La Mettrie in the history of French

thought. Hettner, who apparently had not thought it worth while

to read him, has ascribed his mental movement to the influence

of Diderot's Pensées philosophiques (1746), whereas it had

begun in his own Histoire naturelle de l'âme, published a year

before. La Mettrie's originality and influence in general have been

underestimated as a result of the hostility set up by disparagement

of his character. The idea of a fundamental unity of type in

nature--an idea underlying all the successive steps of Lamarck,

Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Goethe, and others, towards the complete

conception of evolution--is set forth by him in L'Homme Plante in

1748, the year in which appeared De Maillet's Telliamed. Buffon

follows in time as in thought, only beginning his great work

in 1749; Maupertuis, with his pseudonymous dissertation on the

Universal system of Nature, applies La Mettrie's conception in

1751; and Diderot's Pensées sur l'interprétation de la nature,

stimulated by Maupertuis, appeared only in 1754. La Mettrie

proceeded from the classification of Linnæus, but did not

there find his idea. In the words of Lange, "these forgotten

writings are in nowise so empty and superficial as is commonly

assumed." Gesch. des Materialismus, i, 328-29. Lange seems to

have been the first to make a judicial study of La Mettrie's work,

as distinguished from the scandals about his character.

22. A more general influence, naturally, attached to the

simple concrete handling of scientific problems. The interest

in such questions, noticeable in England at the Restoration

and radiating thence, is seen widely diffused in France after

the publication of Fontenelle's Entretiens, and thenceforward it

rapidly strengthens. Barren theological disputations set men not

merely against theology, but upon the study of Nature, where real

knowledge was visibly possible. To a certain extent the study took

openly heretical lines. The Abbé Lenglet du Fresnoy, who was four

times imprisoned in the Bastille, supplied material of which D'Argens

made much use, tending to overthrow the Biblical chronology and to

discredit the story of the Flood. [1074] Benoît de Maillet (1656-1738),

who had been for fifteen years inspector of the French establishments

in Egypt and Barbary, left for posthumous publication (1748) a work

of which the first title was an anagram of his name, Telliamed, ou

Entretiens d'un philosophe indien avec un missionaire français. Of

this treatise the thesis is that the shell deposits in the Alps and

elsewhere showed the sea to have been where land now was; and that the

rocks were gradually deposited in their different kinds in the fashion

in which even now are being formed mud, sand, and shingle. De Maillet

had thus anticipated the central conception of modern geology, albeit

retaining many traditional delusions. His abstention from publication

during his lifetime testifies to his sense of the danger he underwent,

the treatise having been printed by him only in 1735, at the age of

seventy-nine; and not till ten years after his death was it given to

the world, with "a preface and dedication so worded as, in case of

necessity, to give the printer a fair chance of falling back on the

excuse that the work was intended for a mere jeu d'esprit." [1075]

The thesis was adopted, indeed plagiarized, [1076] by Mirabaud in

his Le Monde, son origine et son antiquité (1751). Strangely enough,

Voltaire refused to be convinced, and offered amazing suggestions

as to the possible deposit of shells by pilgrims. [1077] It is not

unlikely that it was Voltaire's opposition rather than any orthodox

argumentation that retarded in France the acceptance of an evolutionary

view of the origin of the earth and of life. It probably had a more

practical effect on scientific thought in England [1078]--at least

as regards geology: its speculations on the modification of species,

which loosely but noticeably anticipate some of the inferences of

Darwin, found no acceptance anywhere till Lamarck. In the opinion

of Huxley, the speculations of Robinet, in the next generation, "are

rather behind than in advance of those of De Maillet"; [1079] and it

may be added that the former, with his pet theory that all Nature

is "animated," and that the stars and planets have the faculty of

reproducing themselves like animals, wandered as far from sound bases

as De Maillet ever did. The very form of De Maillet's work, indeed,

was not favourable to its serious acceptance; and in his case, as in

those of so many pioneers of new ideas, errors and extravagances and

oversights in regard to matters of detail went to justify "practical"

men in dismissing novel speculations. Needless to say, the common run

of scientific men remained largely under the influence of religious

presuppositions in science even when they had turned their backs

on the Church. Nonetheless, on all sides the study of natural fact

began to play its part in breaking down the dominion of creed. Even

in hidebound Protestant Switzerland, the sheer ennui of Puritanism is

seen driving the descendants of the Huguenot refugees to the physical

sciences for an interest and an occupation, before any freethinking

can safely be avowed; and in France, as Buckle has shown in abundant

detail, the study of the physical sciences became for many years

before the Revolution almost a fashionable mania. And at the start

the Church had contrived that such study should rank as unbelief,

and so make unbelievers.

When Buffon [1080] in 1749-50 published his Histoire Naturelle,

the delight which was given to most readers by its finished style

was paralleled by the wrath which its Théorie de la Terre aroused

among the clergy. After much discussion Buffon received early in 1751

from the Sorbonne an official letter specifying as reprehensible in

his book fourteen propositions which he was invited to retract. He

stoically obeyed in a declaration to the effect that he had "no

intention to contradict the text of Scripture," and that he believed

"most firmly all there related about the creation," adding: "I abandon

everything in my book respecting the formation of the earth." [1081]

Still he was attacked as an unbeliever by the Bishop of Auxerre in that

prelate's pastoral against the thesis of de Prades. [1082] During the

rest of his life he outwardly conformed to religious usage, but all

men knew that in his heart he believed what he had written; and the

memory of the affront that the Church had thus put upon so honoured

a student helped to identify her cause no less with ignorance than

with insolence and oppression. For all such insults, and for the long

roll of her cruelties, the Church was soon to pay a tremendous penalty.

23. But science, like theology, had its schisms, and the rationalizing

camp had its own strifes. Maupertuis, for instance, is remembered

mainly as one of the victims of the mockery of Voltaire (which he

well earned by his own antagonism at the court of Frederick); yet he

was really an energetic man of science, and had preceded Voltaire in

setting up in France the Newtonian against the Cartesian physics. In

his System of Nature [1083] (not to be confused with the later work of

d'Holbach under the same title) he in 1751 propounded a new version of

the hylozoisms of ancient Greece; developed the idea of an underlying

unity in the forms of natural life, already propounded by La Mettrie

in his L'Homme Plante; connected it with Leibnitz's formula of the

economy of nature ("minimum of action"--the germ of the modern "line

of least resistance"), and at the same time anticipated some of the

special philosophic positions of Kant. [1084] Diderot, impressed by

but professedly dissenting from Maupertuis's Système in his Pensées

sur l'interprétation de la nature (1754), promptly pointed out that

the conception of a primordially vitalized atom excluded that of a

Creator, and for his own part thereafter took that standpoint. [1085]

In 1754 came the Traité des Sensations of Condillac, in which is most

systematically developed the physio-psychological conception of man as

an "animated statue," of which the thought is wholly conditioned by the

senses. The mode of approach had been laid down before by La Mettrie,

by Diderot, and by Buffon; and Condillac is rather a developer and

systematizer than an originator; [1086] but in this case the process

of unification was to the full as important as the first steps; [1087]

and Condillac has an importance which is latterly being rediscovered

by the school of Spencer on the one hand and by that of James on

the other. Condillac, commonly termed a materialist, no more held

the legendary materialistic view than any other so named; and the

same may be said of the next figure in the "materialistic" series,

J. B. Robinet, a Frenchman settled at Amsterdam, after having been,

it is said, a Jesuit. His Nature (4 vols. 1761-1768) is a remarkable

attempt to reach a strictly naturalistic conception of things. [1088]

But he is a theorist, not an investigator. Even in his fixed idea

that the universe is an "animal" he had perhaps a premonition of

the modern discovery of the immense diffusion of bacterial life;

but he seems to have had more deriders than disciples. He founds

at once on Descartes and on Leibnitz, but in his Philosophical

Considerations on the natural gradation of living forms (1768)

he definitely sets aside theism as illusory, and puts ethics on a

strictly scientific and human footing, [1089] extending the arguments

of Hume and Hutcheson somewhat on the lines of Mandeville. [1090] On

another line of reasoning a similar application of Mandeville's thesis

had already been made by Helvétius in his Traité de l'Esprit [1091]

(1758), a work which excited a hostility now difficult to understand,

but still reflected in censures no less surprising.

One of the worst misrepresentations in theological literature is

the account of Helvétius by the late Principal Cairns (Unbelief

in the Eighteenth Century, 1881, p. 158) as appealing to

government "to promote luxury, and, through luxury, public good,

by abolishing all those laws that cherish a false modesty and

restrain libertinage." Helvétius simply pressed the consequences

of the existing theory of luxury, which for his own part he

disclaimed. De l'Esprit, Disc. ii, ch. xv. Dr. Pünjer (i, 462)

falls so far below his usual standard as to speak of Helvétius

in a similar fashion. As against such detraction it is fitting to

note that Helvétius, like La Mettrie, was one of the most lovable

and most beloved men of his time, though, like him, sufficiently

licentious in his youth.

It was at once suppressed by royal order as scandalous, licentious,

and dangerous, though Helvétius held a post at court as maître d'hôtel

to the Queen. Ordered to make a public retractation, he did so in a

letter addressed to a Jesuit; and this being deemed insufficient,

he had to sign another, "so humiliating," wrote Grimm, [1092]

"that one would not have been astonished to see a man take refuge

with the Hottentots rather than put his name to such avowals." The

wits explained that the censor who had passed the book, being an

official in the Bureau of Foreign Affairs, had treated De l'Esprit

as belonging to that department. [1093] A swarm of replies appeared,

and the book was formally burnt, with Voltaire's poem Sur la loi

naturelle, and several obscure works of older standing. [1094] The

De l'Esprit, appearing alongside of the ever-advancing Encyclopédie,

[1095] was in short a formidable challenge to the powers of bigotry.

Its real faults are lack of system, undue straining after popularity,

some hasty generalization, and a greater concern for the air of paradox

than for persuasion; but it abounds in acuteness and critical wisdom,

and it definitely and seriously founds public ethics on utility. Its

most serious error, the assumption that all men are born with equal

faculties, and that education is the sole differentiating force, was

repeated in our own age by John Stuart Mill; but in Helvétius the

error is balanced by the thoroughly sound and profoundly important

thesis that the general superiorities of nations are the result of

their culture-conditions and politics. [1096] The over-balance of his

stress on self-interest [1097] is an error easily soluble. On the other

hand, we have the memorable testimony of Beccaria that it was the work

of Helvétius that inspired him to his great effort for the humanizing

of penal laws and policy; [1098] and the only less notable testimony

of Bentham that Helvétius was his teacher and inspirer. [1099] It may

be doubted whether any such fruits can be claimed for the teachings

of the whole of the orthodox moralists of the age. For the rest,

Helvétius is not to be ranked among the great abstract thinkers; but it

is noteworthy that his thinking went on advancing to the end. Always

greatly influenced by Voltaire, he did not philosophically harden as

did his master; and though in his posthumous work, Les Progrès de la

Raison dans la recherche du Vrai (published in 1775), he stands for

deism against atheism, the argument ends in the pantheism to which

Voltaire had once attained, but did not adhere.

24. Over all of these men, and even in some measure over Voltaire,

Diderot (1713-1784) stands pre-eminent, on retrospect, for variety

of power and depth and subtlety of thought; though for these very

reasons, as well as because some of his most masterly works were never

printed in his lifetime, he was less of a recognized popular force

than some of his friends. In his own mental history he reproduces the

course of the French thought of his time. Beginning as a deist, he

assailed the contemporary materialists; in the end, with whatever of

inconsistency, he was emphatically an atheist and a materialist. One

of his most intimate friends was Damilaville, of whom Voltaire speaks

as a vehement anti-theist; [1100] and his biographer Naigeon, who at

times overstated his positions but always revered him, was the most

zealous atheist of his day. [1101]

Compare, as to Diderot's position, Soury's contention (p. 577)

that we shall never make an atheist and a materialist out of

"this enthusiastic artist, this poet-pantheist" (citing Rosenkranz

in support), with his own admissions, pp. 589-90, and with Lord

Morley's remarks, pp. 33, 401, 418. See also Lange, i, 310 sq.;

ii, 63 (Eng. tr. ii, 32, 256). In the affectionate éloge of his

friend Meister (1786) there is an express avowal that "it had been

much to be desired for the reputation of Diderot, perhaps even for

the honour of his age, that he had not been an atheist, or that he

had been so with less zeal." The fact is thus put beyond reasonable

doubt. In the Correspondance Littéraire of Grimm and Diderot, under

date September 15, 1765 (vii, 366), there is a letter in criticism

of Descartes, thoroughly atheistic in its reasoning, which is

almost certainly by Diderot. And if the criticism of Voltaire's

Dieu, above referred to (p. 231), be not by him, he was certainly

in entire agreement with it, as with Grimm in general. Rosenkranz

finally (ii, 421) sums up that "Diderot war als Atheist Pantheist,"

which is merely a way of saying that he was scientifically monistic

in his atheism. Lange points out in this connection (i, 310) that

the Hegelian schema of philosophic evolution, "with its sovereign

contempt for chronology," has wrought much confusion as to the

real developments of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

It is recorded that Diderot's own last words in serious conversation

were: "The beginning of philosophy is incredulity"; and it may

be inferred from his writings that his first impulses to searching

thought came from his study of Montaigne, who must always have been

for him one of the most congenial of spirits. [1102] At an early stage

of his independent mental life we find him turning to the literature

which in that age yielded to such a mind as his the largest measure

both of nutriment and stimulus--the English. In 1745 he translated

Shaftesbury's Inquiry concerning Virtue and Merit; and he must have

read with prompt appreciation the other English freethinkers then

famous. Ere long, however, he had risen above the deistical plane of

thought, and grappled with the fundamental issues which the deists

took for granted, partly because of an innate bent to psychological

analysis, partly because he was more interested in scientific problems

than in scholarly research. The Pensées philosophiques, published

in 1746, really deserve their name; and though they exhibit him as

still a satisfied deist, and an opponent of the constructive atheism

then beginning to suggest itself, they contain abstract reasonings

sufficiently disturbing to the deistic position. [1103] The Promenade

du Sceptique (written about 1747, published posthumously) goes further,

and presents tentatively the reply to the design argument which was

adopted by Hume.

In its brilliant pages may be found a conspectus of the intellectual

life of the day, on the side of the religious problem. Every type

of thinker is there tersely characterized--the orthodox, the deist,

the atheist, the sheer skeptic, the scoffer, the pantheist, the

solipsist, and the freethinking libertine, the last figuring as

no small nuisance to the serious unbeliever. So drastic is the

criticism of orthodoxy that the book was unprintable in its day;

[1104] and it was little known even in manuscript. But ere long there

appeared the Letter on the Blind, for the use of those who see (1749),

in which a logical rebuttal alike of the ethical and the cosmological

assumptions of theism, developed from hints in the Pensées, is put

in the mouth of the blind English mathematician, Sanderson. It is not

surprising that whereas the Pensées had been, with some other books,

ordered by the Paris Parlement to be burnt by the common hangman,

the Lettre sur les Aveugles led to his arrest and an imprisonment

of six months [1105] in the Château de Vincennes. Both books had of

course been published without licence; [1106] but the second book was

more than a defiance of the censorship: it was a challenge alike to

the philosophy and the faith of Christendom; and as such could not

have missed denunciation. [1107]

But Diderot was not the kind of man to be silenced by menaces. In

the famous Sorbonne thesis of the Abbé de Prades (1751) he probably

had, as we have seen, some share; and when De Prades was condemned

and deprived of his licence (1752) Diderot wrote the third part of

the Apologie (published by De Prades in Holland), which defended his

positions; and possibly assisted in the other parts. [1108] The hand

of Diderot perhaps may be discovered in the skilful allusions to the

skeptical Demonstratio Evangelica of Huet, which De Prades professes

to have translated when at his seminary, seeking there the antidote

to the poison of the deists. The entire handling of the question of

pagan and Christian miracles, too, suggests the skilled dialectician,

though it is substantially an adaptation of Leslie's Short and Easy

Method with the Deists. The alternate eulogy and criticism of Locke

are likely to be his, as is indeed the abundant knowledge of English

thought shown alike in the thesis and in the Apologie. Whether he

wrote the passage which claims to rebut an argument in his own Pensées

philosophiques [1109] is surely doubtful. But his, certainly, is the

further reply to the pastoral of the Jansenist Bishop of Auxerre

against de Prades's thesis, in which the perpetual disparagement

of reason by Catholic theologians is denounced [1110] as the most

injurious of all procedures against religion. And his, probably,

is the peroration [1111] arraigning the Jansenists and imputing to

their fanaticism and superstition, their miracle-mongering and their

sectarian bitterness, the discredit which among thinking men had

latterly fallen upon Church and creed alike. [1112]

De Prades, who in his thesis and Apologie had always professed to be a

believing Christian, was not a useful recruit to rationalism. Passing

from Holland to Berlin, he was there appointed, through the influence

of Voltaire, reader and amanuensis to the King, [1113] who in 1754

arranged for him an official reconciliation with the Church. A formal

retractation was sent to the Pope, the Sorbonne, and the Bishop of

Montauban; [1114] and Frederick in due course presented him to a

Catholic canonry at Glogau. In 1757, however, he was put under arrest

on the charge, it is commonly said, of supplying military information

to his countrymen; [1115] and thereafter, returning to France in 1759,

he obtained a French benefice. Diderot, who was now a recognized

champion of freethought, turned away with indignation. [1116]

Thenceforward he never faltered on his path. It is his peculiar

excellence to be an original and innovating thinker not only in

philosophy but in psychology, in æsthetics, in ethics, in dramatic

art; and his endless and miscellaneous labours in the Encyclopédie,

of which he was the most loyal and devoted producer, represent an

extraordinary range of interests. He suffered from his position as a

hack writer and as a forced dissembler in his articles on religious

matters; and there is probably a very real connection between his

compulsory insincerities [1117] in the Encyclopédie--to say nothing

of the official prosecution of that and of others of his works--and

his misdeeds in the way of indecent fiction. When organized society

is made to figure as the heartless enemy of thinking men, it is no

great wonder if they are careless at times about the effect of their

writings on society. But it stands to his lasting honour that his

sufferings at the hands of priests, printers, and parlements never

soured his natural goodness of heart. [1118] Having in his youth known

a day's unrelieved hunger, he made a vow that he would never refuse

help to any human being; and, says his daughter, no vow was ever more

faithfully kept. No one in trouble was ever turned away from his door;

and even his enemies were helped when they were base enough to beg of

him. It seems no exaggeration to say that the bulk of his life was

given to helping other people; and the indirect effect of his work,

which is rather intellectually disinterested than didactic, is no

less liberative and humanitarian. "To do good, and to find truth,"

were his mottoes for life.

His daughter, Madame de Vandeul, who in her old age remained

tranquilly divided between the religion instilled into her by her

pious mother and the rationalism she had gathered from her father and

his friends, testified, then, to his constant goodness in the home;

[1119] and his father bore a similar testimony, contrasting him

with his pious brother. [1120] He was, in his way, as beneficent as

Voltaire, without Voltaire's faults of private malice; and his life's

work was a great ministry of light. It was Goethe who said of him in

the next generation that "whoever holds him or his doings cheaply is

a Philistine." His large humanity reaches from the planes of expert

thought to that of popular feeling; and while by his Letter on the

Blind he could advance speculative psychology and pure philosophy,

he could by his tale The Nun (La Religeuse, [1121] written about

1760, published 1796) enlist the sympathies of the people against

the rule of the Church. It belonged to his character to be generously

appreciative of all excellence; he delighted in other men's capacity as

in pictures and poetry; and he loved to praise. At a time when Bacon

and Hobbes were little regarded in England he made them newly famous

throughout Europe by his praises. In him was realized Bacon's saying,

Admiratio semen scientiae, in every sense, for his curiosity was as

keen as his sensibility.

25. With Diderot were specially associated, in different ways,

D'Alembert, the mathematician, for some years his special colleague

on the Encyclopédie, and Baron d'Holbach. The former, one of

the staunchest friends of Voltaire, though a less invincible

fighter than Diderot, counted for practical freethought by his

miscellaneous articles, his little book on the Jesuits (1765), his

Pensées philosophiques, his physics, and the general rationalism of

his Preliminary Discourse to the Encyclopédie. It is noteworthy that

in his intimate correspondence with Voltaire he never avows theism,

and that his and Diderot's friend, the atheist Damilaville, died

in his arms. [1122] On Dumarsais, too, he penned an éloge of which

Voltaire wrote: "Dumarsais only begins to live since his death;

you have given him existence and immortality." [1123] And perpetual

secretary as he was of the Academy, the fanatical daughter of Madame

Geoffrin could write to him in 1776: "For many years you have set

all respectable people against you by your indecent and imprudent

manner of speaking against religion." [1124] Baron d'Holbach, a

naturalized German of large fortune, was on the other hand one of the

most strenuous propagandists of freethought in his age. Personally no

less beloved than Helvétius, [1125] he gave his life and his fortune

to the work of enlightening men on all the lines on which he felt

they needed light. Much of the progress of the physical sciences in

pre-revolutionary France was due to the long series--at least eleven

in all--of his translations of solid treatises from the German;

and his still longer series of original works and translations from

the English in all branches of freethought--a really astonishing

movement of intellectual energy despite the emotion attaching

to the subject-matter--was for the most part prepared in the same

essentially scientific temper. Of all the freethinkers of the period

he had perhaps the largest range of practical erudition; [1126] and

he drew upon it with unhasting and unresting industry. Imitating the

tactic of Voltaire, he produced, with some assistance from Diderot,

Naigeon, and others, a small library of anti-Christian treatises under

a variety of pseudonyms; [1127] and his principal work, the famous

System of Nature (1770), was put out under the name of Mirabaud,

an actual person, then dead. Summing up as it does with stringent

force the whole anti-theological propaganda of the age, it has been

described as a "thundering engine of revolt and destruction." [1128]

It was the first published atheistic [1129] treatise of a systematic

kind, if we except that of Robinet, issued some years before; and it

significantly marks the era of modern freethought, as does the powerful

Essai sur les préjugés, published in the same year, [1130] by its stern

impeachment of the sins of monarchy--here carrying on the note struck

by Jean Meslier in his manuscript of half-a-century earlier. Rather

a practical argument than a dispassionate philosophic research,

its polemic against human folly laid it open to the regulation

retort that on its own necessarian principles no such polemic was

admissible. That retort is, of course, ultimately invalid when the

denunciation is resolved into demonstration. If, however, it be termed

"shallow" on the score of its censorious treatment of the past, [1131]

the term will have to be applied to the Hebrew books, to the Gospel

Jesus, to the Christian Fathers, to Pascal, Milton, Carlyle, Ruskin,

and a good many other prophets, ancient and modern. The synthesis of

the book is really emotional rather than philosophic, and hortatory

rather than scientific; and it was all the more influential on that

account. To the sensation it produced is to be ascribed the edict

of 1770 condemning a whole shelf of previous works to be burnt along

with it by the common hangman.

26. The death of d'Holbach (1789) brings us to the French

Revolution. By that time all the great freethinking propagandists

and non-combatant deists of the Voltairean group were gone, save

Condorcet. Voltaire and Rousseau had died in 1778, Helvétius in

1771, Turgot in 1781, D'Alembert in 1783, Diderot in 1784. After

all their labours, only the educated minority, broadly speaking,

had been made freethinkers; and of these, despite the vogue of the

System of Nature, only a minority were atheists. Deism prevailed,

as we have seen, among the foremost revolutionists; but atheism

was relatively rare. Voltaire, indeed, impressed by the number of

cultured men of his acquaintance who avowed it, latterly speaks [1132]

of them as very numerous; and Grimm must have had a good many among

the subscribers to his correspondence, to permit of his penning or

passing the atheistic criticism there given of Voltaire's first reply

to d'Holbach. Nevertheless, there was no continuous atheistic movement;

and after 1789 the new freethinking works run to critical and ethical

attack on the Christian system rather than on theism. Volney combined

both lines of attack in his famous Ruins of Empires (1791); and the

learned Dupuis, in his voluminous Origin of all Cults (1795), took

an important step, not yet fully reckoned with by later mythologists,

towards the mythological analysis of the gospel narrative. After these

vigorous performances, the popular progress of French freethought was

for long practically suspended [1133] by the tumult of the Revolution

and the reaction which followed it, though Laplace went on his way

with his epoch-making theory of the origin of the solar system,

for which, as he told Napoleon, he had "no need of the hypothesis"

of a God. The admirable Condorcet had died, perhaps by his own hand,

in 1794, when in hiding from the Terrorists, leaving behind him his

Esquisse d'un tableau historique des progrès de l'esprit humain,

in which the most sanguine convictions of the rationalistic school

are reformulated without a trace of bitterness or of despair.

27. No part of the history of freethought has been more distorted

than that at which it is embroiled in the French Revolution. The

conventional view in England still is that the Revolution was

the work of deists and atheists, but chiefly of the latter; that

they suppressed Christianity and set up a worship of a Goddess of

Reason, represented by a woman of the town; and that the bloodshed

of the Terror represented the application of their principles to

government, or at least the political result of the withdrawal

of religious checks. [1134] Those who remember in the briefest

summary the records of massacre connected with the affirmation of

religious beliefs--the internecine wars of Christian sects under

the Roman Empire; the vast slaughters of Manichæans in the East;

the bloodshed of the period of propagation in Northern Europe,

from Charlemagne onwards; the story of the Crusades, in which nine

millions of human beings are estimated to have been destroyed;

the generation of wholesale murder of the heretics of Languedoc by

the papacy; the protracted savageries of the Hussite War; the early

holocaust of Protestant heretics in France; the massacres of German

peasants and Anabaptists; the reciprocal persecutions in England; the

civil strifes of sectaries in Switzerland; the ferocious wars of the

French Huguenots and the League; the long-drawn agony of the war of

thirty years in Germany; the annihilation of myriads of Mexicans and

Peruvians by the conquering Spaniards in the name of the Cross--those

who recall these things need spend no time over the proposition that

rationalism stands for a removal of restraints on bloodshed. But it

is necessary to put concisely the facts as against the legend in the

case of the French Revolution.

(a) That many of the leading men among the revolutionists were

deists is true; and the fact goes to prove that it was chiefly the

men of ability in France who rejected Christianity. Of a number of

these the normal attitude was represented in the work of Necker,

Sur l'importance des idées religieuses (1787), which repudiated the

destructive attitude of the few, and may be described as an utterance

of pious theism or Unitarianism. [1135] Orthodox he cannot well have

been, since, like his wife, he was the friend of Voltaire. [1136]

But the majority of the Constituent Assembly was never even deistic;

it professed itself cordially Catholic; [1137] and the atheists there

might be counted on the fingers of one hand. [1138]

The Abbé Bergier, in answering d'Holbach (Examen du Matérialisme,

ii, ch. i, § 1), denies that there has been any wide spread of

atheistic opinion. This is much more probable than the statement

of the Archbishop of Toulouse, on a deputation to the king

in 1775, that "le monstrueux athéisme est devenu l'opinion

dominante" (Soulavie, Règne de Louis XVI, iii, 16; cited by

Buckle, 1-vol. ed. p. 488, note). Joseph Droz, a monarchist and a

Christian, writing under Louis Philippe, sums up that "the atheists

formed only a small number of adepts" (Histoire du Règne de Louis

XVI, éd. 1839, p. 42). And Rivarol, who at the time of writing

his Lettres à M. Necker was substantially an atheist, says in

so many words that, while Rousseau's "Confession of a Savoyard

Vicar" was naturally very attractive to many, such a book as the

"Système de la Nature," were it as attractive as it is tedious,

would win nobody" (OEuvres, éd. 1852, p. 134). Still, it ran into

seven editions between 1770 and 1780.

Nor were there lacking vigorous representatives of orthodoxy:

the powerful Abbé Grégoire, in particular, was a convinced

Jansenist Christian, and at the same time an ardent democrat and

anti-royalist. [1139] He saw the immense importance to the Church

of a good understanding with the Revolution, and he accepted

the constitution of 1790. With him went a very large number of

priests. M. Léonce de Lavergne, who was pious enough to write that

"the philosophy of the eighteenth century had had the audacity to

lay hands on God; and this impious attempt has had for punishment

the revolutionary expiation," also admits that, "of the clergy,

it was not the minority but the majority which went along with the

Tiers État." [1140] Many of the clergy, however, being refractory,

the Assembly pressed its point, and the breach widened. It was solely

through this political hostility on the part of the Church to the

new constitution that any civic interference with public worship ever

took place. Grégoire was extremely popular with the advanced types,

[1141] though his piety was conspicuous; [1142] and there were not a

few priests of his way of thinking, [1143] among them being some of

the ablest bishops. [1144] On the flight of the king, he and they went

with the democracy; and it was the obstinate refusal of the others to

accept the constitution that provoked the new Legislative Assembly to

coerce them. Though the new body was more anti-clerical than the old,

however, it was simply doing what successive Protestant monarchs had

done in England and Ireland; and probably no Government in the world

would then have acted otherwise in a similar case. [1145] Patience

might perhaps have won the day; but the Revolution was fighting for

its life; and the conservative Church, as all men knew, was eager to

strangle it. Had the clergy left politics alone, or simply accepted

the constitutional action of the State, there would have been no

religious question. To speak of such a body of priests, who had at

all times been eager to put men to death for heresy, as vindicating

"liberty of conscience" when they refused fealty to the constitution,

[1146] is somewhat to strain the terms. The expulsion of the Jesuits

under the Old Régime had been a more coercive measure than the demand

of the Assembly on the allegiance of the State clergy. And all the

while the reactionary section of the priesthood was known to be

conspiring with the royalists abroad. It was only when, in 1793,

the conservative clergy were seen to be the great obstacle to the

levy of an army of defence, that the more radical spirits began to

think of interfering with their functions. [1147]

(b) An à priori method has served alike in freethinkers' and in

pietists' hands to obscure the facts. When Michelet insists on the

"irreconcilable opposition of Christianity to the Revolution"--a

thesis in which he was heartily supported by Proudhon [1148]--he

means that the central Christian dogmas of salvation by sacrifice and

faith exclude any political ethic of justice [1149]--any doctrine

of equality and equity. But this is only to say that Christianity

as an organization is in perpetual contradiction with some main

part of its professed creed; and that has been a commonplace since

Constantine. It does not mean that either Christians in multitudes

or their churches as organizations have not constantly proceeded on

ordinary political motives, whether populist or anti-populist. In

Germany we have seen Lutheranism first fomenting and afterwards

repudiating the movement of the peasants for betterment; and in

England in the next century both parties in the civil war invoke

religious doctrines, meeting texts with texts. Jansenism was in

constant friction with the monarchy from its outset; and Louis

XIV and Louis XV alike regarded the Jansenists as the enemies of

the throne. "Christianity" could be as easily "reconciled" with a

democratic movement in the last quarter of the eighteenth century as

with the Massacre of Saint Bartholomew's Day in the sixteenth. If those

Christians who still charge "the bloodshed of the French Revolution"

on the spirit of incredulity desire to corroborate Michelet to the

extent of making Christianity the bulwark of absolute monarchy, the

friend of a cruel feudalism, and the guardian genius of the Bastille,

they may be left to the criticism of their fellow-believers who have

embraced the newer principle that the truth of the Christian religion

is to be proved by connecting it in practice with the spirit of social

reform. To point out to either party, as did Michelet, that evangelical

Christianity is a religion of submission and preparation for the end

of all things, and has nothing to do with rational political reform,

is to bestow logic where logic is indomiciliable. While rationalism

undoubtedly fosters the critical spirit, professed Christians have

during many ages shown themselves as prone to rebellion as to war,

whether on religious or on political pretexts.

(c) For the rest, the legend falsifies what took place. The facts

are now established by exact documentary research. The Government

never substituted any species of religion for the Catholic. [1150]

The Festival of Reason at Nôtre Dame was an act not of the Convention

but of the Commune of Paris and the Department; the Convention had

no part in promoting it; half the members stayed away when invited to

attend; and there was no Goddess of Reason in the ceremony, but only

a Goddess of Liberty, represented by an actress who cannot even be

identified. [1151] Throughout, the devoutly theistic Rousseau was the

chief literary hero of the movement. The two executive Committees in

no way countenanced the dechristianization of the Churches, but on the

contrary imprisoned persons who removed church properties; and these

in turn protested that they had no thought of abolishing religion. The

acts of irresponsible violence did not amount to a hundredth part of

the "sacrilege" wrought in Protestant countries at the Reformation,

and do not compare with the acts charged on Cromwell's troopers. The

policy of inviting priests and bishops to abdicate their functions

was strictly political; and the Archbishop Gobel did not abjure

Catholicism, but only surrendered his office. That a number of priests

did gratuitously abjure their religion is only a proof of what was

well known--that a good many priests were simple deists. We have seen

how many abbés fought in the freethought ranks, or near them. Diderot

in a letter of 1769 tells of a day which he and a friend had passed

with two monks who were atheists. "One of them read the first draft

of a very fresh and very vigorous treatise on atheism, full of new

and bold ideas; I learned with edification that this doctrine was the

current doctrine of their cloisters. For the rest, these two monks

were the 'big bonnets' of their monastery; they had intellect, gaiety,

good feeling, knowledge." [1152] And a priest of the cathedral of

Auxerre, whose recollections went back to the revolutionary period,

has confessed that at that time "philosophic" opinions prevailed in

most of the monasteries. His words even imply that in his opinion the

unbelieving monks were the majority. [1153] In the provinces, where

the movement went on with various degrees of activity, it had the same

general character. "Reason" itself was often identified with deity,

or declared to be an emanation thereof. Hébert, commonly described

as an atheist for his share in the movement, expressly denied the

charge, and claimed to have exhorted the people to read the gospels

and obey Christ. [1154] Danton, though at his death he disavowed

belief in immortality, had declared in the Convention in 1793 that

"we have not striven to abolish superstition in order to establish the

reign of atheism." [1155] Even Chaumette was not an atheist; [1156]

and the Prussian Clootz, who probably was, had certainly little or no

doctrinary influence; while the two or three other professed atheists

of the Assembly had no part in the public action.

(d) Finally, Robespierre was all along thoroughly hostile to the

movement; in his character of Rousseauist and deist he argued

that atheism was "aristocratic"; he put to death the leaders of

the Cult of Reason; and he set up the Worship of the Supreme Being

as a counter-move. Broadly speaking, he affiliated to Necker, and

stood very much at the standpoint of the English Unitarianism of the

present day. Thus the bloodshed of the Reign of Terror, if it is to

be charged on any species of philosophic doctrine rather than on the

unscrupulous policy of the enemies of the Revolution in and out of

France, stands to the credit of the belief in a God, the creed of

Frederick, Turgot, Necker, Franklin, Pitt, and Washington. The one

convinced and reasoning atheist among the publicists of the Revolution,

the journalist Salaville, [1157] opposed the Cult of Reason with sound

and serious and persuasive argument, and strongly blamed all forcible

interference with worship, while at the same time calmly maintaining

atheism as against theism. The age of atheism had not come, any more

than the triumph of Reason.

Mallet du Pan specifies, as among those who "since 1788 have

pushed the blood-stained car of anarchy and atheism," Chamfort,

Gronvelle, Garat, and Cerutti. Chamfort was as high-minded a

man as Mallet himself, and is to-day so recognized by every

unprejudiced reader. The others are forgotten. Gronvelle,

who as secretary of the executive council read to Louis XVI

his death-sentence, wrote De l'autorité de Montesquieu dans la

révolution présente (1789). Garat was Minister of Justice in 1792

and of the Interior in 1793, and was ennobled by Napoleon. He had

published Considérations sur la Révolution (1792) and a Mémoire

sur la Révolution (1795). Cerutti, originally a Jesuit, became a

member of the Legislative Assembly, and was the friend of Mirabeau,

whose funeral oration he delivered.

28. The anti-atheistic and anti-philosophic legend was born of the

exasperation and bad faith of the dethroned aristocracy, themselves

often unbelievers in the day of their ascendancy, and, whether

unbelievers or not, responsible with the Church and the court for

that long insensate resistance to reform which made the revolution

inevitable. Mere random denunciation of new ideas as tending to

generate rebellion was of course an ancient commonplace. Medieval

heretics had been so denounced; Wiclif was in his day; and when the

Count de Cataneo attacked Montesquieu's Spirit of Laws, he spoke

of all such reasonings as "attempts which shake the sacred basis of

thrones." [1158] But he and his contemporaries knew that freethinkers

were not specially given to mutiny; and when, later, French Churchmen

had begun systematically to accuse the philosophers of undermining

alike the Church and the throne, [1159] the unbelieving nobles,

conscious of entire political conservatism, had simply laughed. Better

than anyone else they knew that political revolt had other roots and

motives than incredulity; and they could not but remember how many

French kings had been rebelled against by the Church, and how many

slain by priestly hands. Their acceptance of the priestly formula came

later. In the life of the brilliant Rivarol, who associated with the

noblesse while disdained by many of them because of his obscure birth,

we may read the intellectual history of the case. Brilliant without

patience, keen without scientific coherence, [1160] Rivarol in 1787

met the pious deism of Necker with a dialectic in which cynicism as

often disorders as illuminates the argument. With prompt veracity he

first rejects the ideal of a beneficent reign of delusion, and insists

that religion is seen in all history powerless alike to overrule

men's passions and prejudices, and to console the oppressed by its

promise of a reversal of earthly conditions in another world. But in

the same breath, by way of proving that the atheist is less disturbing

to convention than the deist, he insists that the unbeliever soon

learns to see that "irreverences are crimes against society"; and

then, in order to justify such conformity, asserts what he had before

denied. And the self-contradiction recurs. [1161] The underlying

motive of the whole polemic is simply the grudge of the upper class

diner-out against the serious and conscientious bourgeois who strives

to reform the existing system. Conscious of being more enlightened,

the wit is eager at once to disparage Necker for his religiosity

and to discredit him politically as the enemy of the socially useful

ecclesiastical order. Yet in his second letter Sur la morale (1788)

he is so plainly an unbeliever that the treatise had to be printed

at Berlin. The due sequence is that when the Revolution breaks out

Rivarol sides with the court and the noblesse, while perfectly aware of

the ineptitude and malfeasance of both; [1162] and, living in exile,

proceeds to denounce the philosophers as having caused the overturn

by their universal criticism. In 1787 he had declared that he would

not even have written his Letters to Necker if he were not certain

that "the people does not read." Then the people had read neither the

philosophers nor him. But in exile he must needs frame for the émigrés

a formula, true or false. It is the falsity of men divided against

themselves, who pay themselves with recriminations rather than realize

their own deserts. [1163] And in the end Rivarol is but a deist.

29. If any careful attempt be made to analyse the situation, the

stirring example of the precedent revolution in the British American

colonies will probably be recognized as counting for very much more

than any merely literary influence in promoting that of France. A

certain "republican" spirit had indeed existed among educated men in

France throughout the reign of Louis XV: D'Argenson noted it in 1750

and later. [1164] But this spirit, which D'Argenson in large measure

shared, while holding firmly by monarchy, [1165] was simply the spirit

of constitutionalism, the love of law and good government, and it

derived from English example and the teachings of such Englishmen

as Locke, [1166] insofar as it was not spontaneous. If acceptance

of the doctrine of constitutional government can lead to anarchy,

let it be avowed; but let not the cause be pretended to be deism or

atheism. The political teaching for which the Paris Parlement denounced

Rousseau's Émile in 1762, and for which the theologians of the Sorbonne

censured Marmontel's Bélisaire in 1767, was the old doctrine of the

sovereignty of the people. But this had been maintained by a whole

school of English Protestant Christians before Bossuet denounced the

Protestant Jurieu for maintaining it. Nay, it had been repeatedly

maintained by Catholic theologians, from Thomas Aquinas to Suarez,

[1167] especially when there was any question of putting down a

Protestant monarch. Protestants on their part protested indignantly,

and reciprocated. The recriminations of Protestants and Catholics on

this head form one of the standing farces of human history. Coger,

attacking Marmontel, unctuously cites Bayle's censure of his fellow

Protestants in his Avis aux Réfugiéz [1168] for their tone towards

kings and monarchy, but says nothing of Bayle's quarrel with Jurieu,

which motived such an utterance, or of his Critique Générale of

Maimbourg's Histoire du Calvinisme, in which he shows how the

Catholic historian's principles would justify the rebellion alike

of Catholics in every Protestant country and of Protestants in every

Catholic country, [1169] though all the while it is assumed that true

Christians never resort to violence. And, unless there has been an

error as to his authorship, Bayle himself, be it remembered, had in

his letter Ce que c'est que la France toute catholique sous le règne

de Louis le Grand passed as scathing a criticism on Louis XIV as any

Protestant refugee could well have compassed. Sectarian hypocrisies

apart, the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people--for opposing

which the freethinker Hobbes has been execrated by generations of

Christians--is the professed political creed of the very classes

who, in England and the United States, have so long denounced

French freethinkers for an alleged "subversive" social teaching

which fell far short of what English and American Protestants had

actually practised. The revolt of the American colonies, in fact,

precipitated democratic feeling in France in a way that no writing had

ever done. Lafayette, no freethinker, declared himself republican at

once on reading the American declaration of the Rights of Man. [1170]

In all this the freethinking propaganda counted for nothing directly

and for little indirectly, inasmuch as there was no clerical quarrel

in the colonies. And if we seek for even an indirect or general

influence, apart from the affirmation of the duty of kings to their

people, the thesis as to the activity of the philosophes must at

once be restricted to the cases of Rousseau, Helvétius, Raynal,

and d'Holbach, for Marmontel never passed beyond "sound" generalities.

As for the pretence that it was freethinking doctrines that brought

Louis XVI to the scaffold, it is either the most impudent or the

most ignorant of historical imputations. The "right" of tyrannicide

had been maintained by Catholic schoolmen before the Reformation,

and by both Protestants and Catholics afterwards, times without

number, even as they maintained the right of the people to depose and

change kings. The doctrine was in fact not even a modern innovation,

the theory being so well primed by the practice--under every sort of

government, Jewish and pagan in antiquity, Moslem in the Middle Ages,

and Christian from the day of Pepin to the day of John Knox--that a

certain novelty lay on the side of the "divine right of kings" when

that was popularly formulated. And on the whole question of revolution,

or the right of peoples to recast their laws, the general doctrine

of the most advanced of the French freethinkers is paralleled or

outgone by popes and Church Councils in the Middle Ages, by Occam and

Marsiglio of Padua and Wiclif and more than one German legist in the

fourteenth century, by John Major and George Buchanan in Scotland, by

Goodman in England, and by many Huguenots in France, in the sixteenth;

by Hotman in his Francogallia in 1574; by the author of the Soupirs

de la France Esclave [1171] in 1689; and by the whole propagandist

literature of the English and American Revolutions in the seventeenth

and eighteenth. So far from being a specialty of freethinkers,

"sedition" was in all these and other cases habitually grounded on

Biblical texts and religious protestations; so that Bacon, little

given as he was to defending rationalists, could confidently avow that

"Atheism leaves a man to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety,

to laws, to reputation ... but superstition dismounts all these,

and erecteth an absolute monarchy in the minds of men. Therefore

atheism did never perturb states.... But superstition hath been the

confusion of many states." For "superstition" read "sectarianism,"

"fanaticism," and "ecclesiasticism." Bacon's generalization is of

course merely empirical, atheism being capable of alliance with

revolutionary passion in its turn; but the historical summary holds

good. Only by men who had not read or had forgotten universal history

could the ascription of the French Revolution to rationalistic thought

have been made. [1172]

30. A survey of the work and attitude of the leading French

freethinkers of the century may serve to settle the point once

for all. Voltaire is admittedly out of the question. Mallet du Pan,

whose resistance to the Revolution developed into a fanaticism hardly

less perturbing to judgment [1173] than that of Burke, expressly

disparaged him as having so repelled men by his cynicism that he had

little influence on their feelings, and so could not be reckoned a

prime force in preparing the Revolution. [1174] "Mably," the critic

adds, "whose republican declamations have intoxicated many modern

democrats, was religious to austerity: at the first stroke of the

tocsin against the Church of Rome, he would have thrown his books

in the fire, excepting his scathing apostrophes to Voltaire and the

atheists. Marmontel, Saint-Lambert, Morellet, Encyclopedists, were

adversaries of the revolution." [1175] On the other hand, Barante

avows that Mably, detesting as he did the freethinking philosophers

of his day, followed no less than others "a destructive course,

and contributed, without knowing it, to weaken the already frayed

ties which still united the parts of an ancient society." [1176] As

Barante had previously ascribed the whole dissolution to the autocratic

process under Louis XIV, [1177] even this indictment of the orthodox

Mably is invalid. Voltaire, on the other hand, Barante charges with

an undue leaning to the methods of Louis XIV. Voltaire, in fact, was

in things political a conservative, save insofar as he fought for

toleration, for lenity, and for the most necessary reforms. And if

Voltaire's attack on what he held to be a demoralizing and knew to be

a persecuting religion be saddled with the causation of the political

crash, the blame will have to be carried back equally to the English

deists and the tyranny of Louis XIV. To such indictments, as Barante

protests, there is no limit: every age pivots on its predecessor; and

to blame for the French Revolution everybody but a corrupt aristocracy,

a tyrannous and ruinously spendthrift monarchy, and a cruel church,

is to miss the last semblance of judicial method. It may be conceded

that the works of Meslier and d'Holbach, neither of whom is noticed

by Barante, are directly though only generally revolutionary in their

bearing. But the main works of d'Holbach appeared too close upon

the Revolution to be credited with generating it; and Meslier, as we

know, had been generally read only in abridgments and adaptations,

in which his political doctrine disappears.

Mallet du Pan, striking in all directions, indicts alternately

Rousseau, whose vogue lay largely among religious people, and the

downright freethinkers. The great fomenter of the Revolution,

the critic avows, was Rousseau. "He had a hundred times more

readers than Voltaire in the middle and lower classes.... No one

has more openly attacked the right of property in declaring it a

usurpation.... It is he alone who has inoculated the French with

the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people, and with its most

extreme consequences." [1178] After this "he alone," the critic

obliviously proceeds to exclaim: "Diderot and Condorcet: there are

the true chiefs of the revolutionary school," adding that Diderot had

"proclaimed equality before Marat; the Rights of Man before Siéyès;

sacred insurrection before Mirabeau and Lafayette; the massacre of

priests before the Septembrists." [1179] But this is mere furious

declamation. Only by heedless misreading or malice can support be

given to the pretence that Diderot wrought for the violent overthrow

of the existing political system. Passages denouncing kingly tyranny

had been inserted in their plays by both Corneille and Voltaire,

and applauded by audiences who never dreamt of abolishing monarchy. A

phrase about strangling kings in the bowels of priests is expressly put

by Diderot in the mouth of an Éleuthéromane or Liberty-maniac; [1180]

which shows that the type had arisen in his lifetime in opposition to

his own bias. This very poem he read to the Prince von Galitzin, the

ambassador of the Empress Catherine and his own esteemed friend. [1181]

The tyranny of the French Government, swayed by the king's mistresses

and favourites and by the Jesuits, he did indeed detest, as he had

cause to do, and as every man of good feeling did with him; but no

writing of his wrought measurably for its violent overthrow. [1182]

D'Argenson in 1751 was expressing his fears of a revolution, and

noting the "désobeissance constante" of the Parlement of Paris and the

disaffection of the people, before he had heard of "un M. Diderot,

qui a beaucoup d'esprit, mais qui affecte trop l'irreligion." And

when he notes that the Jesuits have secured the suppression of the

Encyclopédie as being hostile "to God and the royal authority," he

does not attach the slightest weight to the charge. He knew that Louis

called the pious Jansenists "enemies of God and of the king." [1183]

Mallet du Pan grounds his charge against Diderot almost solely on

"those incendiary diatribes intercalated in the Histoire philosophique

des deux Indes which dishonour that work, and which Raynal, in

his latter days, excised with horror from a new edition which he

was preparing." But supposing the passages in question to be all

Diderot's [1184]--which is far from certain--they are to be saddled

with responsibility for the Reign of Terror only on the principle

that it was more provocative in the days of tyranny to denounce

than to exercise it. To this complexion Mallet du Pan came, with

the anti-Revolutionists in general; but to-day we can recognize in

the whole process of reasoning a reductio ad absurdum. The school

in question came in all seriousness to ascribe the evils of the

Revolution to everything and everybody save the men and classes whose

misgovernment made the Revolution inevitable.

Some of the philosophers, it is true, themselves gave colour to the

view that they were the makers of the Revolution, as when D'Alembert

said to Romilly that "philosophy" had produced in his time that change

in the popular mind which exhibited itself in the indifference with

which they received the news of the birth of the dauphin. [1185]

The error is none the less plain. The philosophes had done nothing

to promote anti-monarchism among the common people, who did not

read. [1186] It was the whole political and social evolution of

two generations that had wrought the change; and the people were

still for the most part believing Catholics. Frederick the Great

was probably within the mark when in 1769 he privately reminded the

more optimistic philosophers that their entire French public did

not number above 200,000 persons. The people of Paris, who played

the chief part in precipitating the Revolution, were spontaneously

mutinous and disorderly, but were certainly not in any considerable

number unbelievers. "While Voltaire dechristianized a portion of polite

society the people remained very pious, even at Paris. In 1766 Louis

XV, so unpopular, was acclaimed because he knelt, on the Pont Neuf,

before the Holy Sacrament." [1187]

And this is the final answer to any pretence that the Revolution was

the work of the school of d'Holbach. Bergier the priest, and Rivarol

the conservative unbeliever, alike denied that d'Holbach's systematic

writings had any wide public. Doubtless the same men were ready to

eat their words for the satisfaction of vilifying an opponent. It

has always been the way of orthodoxy to tell atheists alternately

that they are an impotent handful and that they are the ruin of

society. But by this time it ought to be a matter of elementary

knowledge that a great political revolution can be wrought only by

far-reaching political forces, whether or not these may concur with

a propaganda of rationalism in religion. [1188] If any "philosopher"

so-called is to be credited with specially promoting the Revolution,

it is either Rousseau, who is so often hailed latterly as the engineer

of a religious reaction, and whose works, as has been repeatedly

remarked, "contain much that is utterly and irreconcilably opposed"

to the Revolution, [1189] or Raynal, who was only anti-clerical,

not anti-Christian, and who actually censured the revolutionary

procedure. When he published his first edition he must be held to have

acquiesced in its doctrine, whether it were from Diderot's pen or his

own. Rousseau and Raynal were the two most popular writers of their

day who dealt with social as apart from religious or philosophical

issues, and to both is thus imputed a general subversiveness. But

here too the charge rests upon a sociological fallacy. The Parlement

of Paris, composed of rich bourgeois and aristocrats, many of them

Jansenists, very few of them freethinkers, most of them ready to burn

freethinking books, played a "subversive" part throughout the century,

inasmuch as it so frequently resisted the king's will. [1190] The

stars in their courses fought against the old despotism. Rousseau was

ultimately influential towards change because change was inevitable

and essential, not because he was restless. The whole drift of things

furthered his ideas, which at the outset won no great vogue. He

was followed because he set forth what so many felt; and similarly

Raynal was read because he chimed with a strengthening feeling. In

direct contradiction to Mallet du Pan, Chamfort, a keener observer,

wrote while the Revolution was still in action that "the priesthood

was the first bulwark of absolute power, and Voltaire overthrew

it. Without this decisive and indispensable first step nothing

would have been done." [1191] The same observer goes on to say that

Rousseau's political works, and particularly the Contrat Social,

"were fitted for few readers, and caused no alarm at court.... That

theory was regarded as a hollow speculation which could have no

further consequences than the enthusiasm for liberty and the contempt

of royalty carried so far in the pieces of Corneille, and applauded

at court by the most absolute of kings, Louis XIV. All that seemed

to belong to another world, and to have no connection with ours;

... in a word, Voltaire above all has made the Revolution, because

he has written for all; Rousseau above all has made the Constitution

because he has written for the thinkers." [1192] And so the changes

may be rung for ever. The final philosophy of history cannot be

reached by any such artificial selection of factors; [1193] and the

ethical problem equally evades such solutions. If we are to pass any

ethico-political judgment whatever, it must be that the evils of the

Revolution lie at the door not of the reformers, but of the men, the

classes, and the institutions which first provoked and then resisted

it. [1194] To describe the former as the authors of the process is as

intelligent as it was to charge upon Sokrates the decay of orthodox

tradition in Athens, and to charge upon that the later downfall of

the Athenian empire. The wisest men of the age, notably the great

Turgot, sought a gradual transformation, a peaceful and harmless

transition from unconstitutional to constitutional government. Their

policy was furiously resisted by an unteachable aristocracy. When at

last fortuitous violence made a breach in the feudal walls, a people

unprepared for self-rule, and fought by an aristocracy eager for blood,

surged into anarchy, and convulsion followed on convulsion. That is

in brief the history of the Revolution.

31. While the true causation of the Revolution is thus kept clear,

it must not be forgotten, further, that to the very last, save where

controlled by disguised rationalists like Malesherbes, the tendency

of the old régime was to persecute brutally and senselessly wherever

it could lay hands on a freethinker. In 1788, only a year before

the first explosion of the Revolution, there appeared the Almanach

des Honnêtes Gens of Sylvain Maréchal, a work of which the offence

consisted not in any attack upon religion, but in simply constructing

a calendar in which the names of renowned laymen were substituted for

saints. Instantly it was denounced by the Paris Parlement, the printer

prosecuted, and the author imprisoned; and De Sauvigny, the censor

who had passed the book, was exiled thirty leagues from Paris. [1195]

Some idea of the intensity of the tyranny over all literature

in France under the Old Régime may be gathered from Buckle's

compendious account of the books officially condemned, and

of authors punished, during the two generations before the

Revolution. Apart from the record of the treatment of Buffon,

Marmontel, Morellet, Voltaire, and Diderot, it runs: "The

... tendency was shown in matters so trifling that nothing but

the gravity of their ultimate results prevents them from being

ridiculous. In 1770, Imbert translated Clarke's Letters on Spain,

one of the best works then existing on that country. This book,

however, was suppressed as soon as it appeared; and the only

reason assigned for such a stretch of power is that it contained

some remarks respecting the passion of Charles III for hunting,

which were considered disrespectful to the French crown, because

Louis XV himself was a great hunter. Several years before this

La Bletterie, who was favourably known in France by his works,

was elected a member of the French Academy. But he, it seems,

was a Jansenist, and had moreover ventured to assert that the

Emperor Julian, notwithstanding his apostasy, was not entirely

devoid of good qualities. Such offences could not be overlooked

in so pure an age; and the king obliged the Academy to exclude

La Bletterie from their society. That the punishment extended no

further was an instance of remarkable leniency; for Fréret, an

eminent critic and scholar, was confined in the Bastille because he

stated, in one of his memoirs, that the earliest Frankish chiefs

had received their titles from the Romans. The same penalty was

inflicted four different times upon Lenglet du Fresnoy. In the

case of this amiable and accomplished man, there seems to have

been hardly the shadow of a pretext for the cruelty with which

he was treated; though on one occasion the alleged offence was

that he had published a supplement to the History of De Thou.

"Indeed, we have only to open the biographies and correspondence

of that time to find instances crowding upon us from all

quarters. Rousseau was threatened with imprisonment, was driven

from France, and his works were publicly burned. The celebrated

treatise of Helvétius on the Mind was suppressed by an order of the

Royal Council; it was burned by the common hangman, and the author

was compelled to write two letters retracting his opinions. Some

of the geological views of Buffon having offended the clergy,

that illustrious naturalist was obliged to publish a formal

recantation of doctrines which are now known to be perfectly

accurate. The learned Observations on the History of France, by

Mably, were suppressed as soon as they appeared: for what reason

it would be hard to say, since M. Guizot, certainly no friend

either to anarchy or to irreligion, has thought it worth while to

republish them, and thus stamp them with the authority of his own

great name. The History of the Indies, by Raynal, was condemned

to the flames, and the author ordered to be arrested. Lanjuinais,

in his well-known work on Joseph II, advocated not only religious

toleration, but even the abolition of slavery; his book,

therefore, was declared to be 'seditious'; it was pronounced

'destructive of all subordination,' and was sentenced to be

burned. The Analysis of Bayle, by Marsy, was suppressed, and the

author was imprisoned. The History of the Jesuits, by Linguet,

was delivered to the flames; eight years later his journal was

suppressed; and, three years after that, as he still persisted

in writing, his Political Annals were suppressed, and he himself

was thrown into the Bastille. Delisle de Sales was sentenced to

perpetual exile and confiscation of all his property on account

of his work on the Philosophy of Nature. The treatise by Mey, on

French Law, was suppressed; that by Boncerf, on Feudal Law, was

burned. The Memoirs of Beaumarchais were likewise burned; the Éloge

on Fénelon, by La Harpe, was merely suppressed. Duvernet, having

written a History of the Sorbonne, which was still unpublished,

was seized and thrown into the Bastille, while the manuscript

was yet in his own possession. The celebrated work of De Lolme

on the English constitution was suppressed by edict directly it

appeared. The fate of being suppressed or prohibited also awaited

the Letters of Gervaise in 1724; the Dissertations of Courayer in

1727; the Letters of Montgon in 1732; the History of Tamerlane,

by Margat, also in 1732; the Essay on Taste, by Cartaud, in 1736;

The Life of Domat, by Prévost de la Jannès, in 1742; the History

of Louis XI, by Duclos, in 1745; the Letters of Bargeton in 1750;

the Memoirs on Troyes, by Grosley, in the same year; the History

of Clement XI, by Reboulet, in 1752; The School of Man, by Génard,

also in 1752; the Therapeutics of Garlon in 1756; the celebrated

thesis of Louis, on Generation, in 1754; the treatise on Presidial

Jurisdiction, by Jousse, in 1755; the Ericie of Fontenelle in 1768;

the Thoughts of Jamin in 1769; the History of Siam, by Turpin,

and the Éloge of Marcus Aurelius, by Thomas, both in 1770;

the works on Finance by Darigrand, in 1764, and by Le Trosne in

1779; the Essay on Military Tactics, by Guibert, in 1772; the

Letters of Boucquet in the same year; and the Memoirs of Terrai,

by Coquereau, in 1776. Such wanton destruction of property was,

however, mercy itself compared to the treatment experienced

by other literary men in France. Desforges, for example, having

written against the arrest of the Pretender to the English throne,

was, solely on that account, buried in a dungeon eight feet square

and confined there for three years. This happened in 1749; and in

1770, Audra, professor at the College of Toulouse, and a man of

some reputation, published the first volume of his Abridgement of

General History. Beyond this the work never proceeded; it was at

once condemned by the archbishop of the diocese, and the author

was deprived of his office. Audra, held up to public opprobrium,

the whole of his labours rendered useless, and the prospects of

his life suddenly blighted, was unable to survive the shock. He

was struck with apoplexy, and within twenty-four hours was lying

a corpse in his own house."

32. Among many other illustrations of the passion for persecution in

the period may be noted the fact that after the death of the atheist

Damilaville his enemies contrived to deprive his brother of a post

from which he had his sole livelihood. [1196] It is but one of an

infinity of proofs that the spirit of sheer sectarian malevolence,

which is far from being eliminated in modern life, was in the French

Church of the eighteenth century the ruling passion. Lovers of moderate

courses there were, even in the Church; but even among professors of

lenity we find an ingrained belief in the virtue of vituperation and

coercion. And it is not until the persecuted minority has developed

its power of written retaliation, and the deadly arrows of Voltaire

have aroused in the minds of persecutors a new terror, that there

seems to arise on that side a suspicion that there can be any better

way of handling unbelief than by invective and imprisonment. After

they had taught the heretics to defend themselves, and found them

possessed of weapons such as orthodoxy could not hope to handle, we

find Churchmen talking newly of the duty of gentleness towards error;

and even then clinging to the last to the weapons of public ostracism

and aspersion. So the fight was of necessity fought on the side of

freethought in the temper of men warring on incorrigible oppression

and cruelty as well as on error. The wonder is that the freethinkers

preserved so much amenity.

33. This section would not be complete even in outline without some

notice of the attitude held towards religion by Napoleon, who at once

crowned and in large measure undid the work of the Revolution. He

has his place in its religious legend in the current datum that he

wrought for the faith by restoring a suppressed public worship and

enabling the people of France once more to hear church-bells. In

point of fact, as was pointed out by Bishop Grégoire in 1826, "it

is materially proved that in 1796, before he was Consul, and four

years before the Concordat, according to a statement drawn up at the

office of the Domaines Nationaux, there were in France 32,214 parishes

where the culte was carried on." [1197] Other commonplaces concerning

Napoleon are not much better founded. On the strength of a number of

oral utterances, many of them imperfectly vouched for, and none of them

marked by much deliberation, he has been claimed by Carlyle [1198] as

a theist who philosophically disdained the "clatter of materialism,"

and believed in a Personal Creator of an infinite universe; while by

others he is put forward as a kind of expert in character study who

vouched for the divinity of Jesus. [1199] In effect, his verdict

that "this was not a man" would tell, if anything, in favour of

the view that Jesus is a mythical construction. He was, indeed, by

temperament quasi-religious, liking the sound of church bells and

the atmosphere of devotion; and in his boyhood he had been a rather

fervent Catholic. As he grew up he read, like his contemporaries,

the French deists of his time, and became a deist like his fellows,

recognizing that religions were human productions. Declaring that he

was "loin d'être athée," he propounded to O'Meara all the conventional

views--that religion should be made a support to morals and law; that

men need to believe in marvels; that religion is a great consolation

to those who believe in it; and that "no one can tell what he will do

in his last moments." [1200] The opinion to which he seems to have

adhered most steadily was that every man should die in the religion

in which he had been brought up. And he himself officially did so,

though he put off almost to the last the formality of a deathbed

profession. His language on the subject is irreconcilable with

any real belief in the Christian religion: he was "a deist à la

Voltaire who recalled with tenderness his Catholic childhood, and

who at death reverted to his first beliefs." [1201] For the rest,

he certainly believed in religion as a part of the machinery of the

State, and repeated the usual platitudes about its value as a moral

restraint. He was candid enough, however, not to pretend that it had

ever restrained him; and no freethinker condemned more sweepingly

than he the paralysing effect of the Catholic system on Spain. [1202]

To the Church his attitude was purely political; and his personal

liking for the Pope never moved him to yield, where he could avoid it,

to the temporal pretensions of the papacy. The Concordat of 1802,

that "brilliant triumph over the genius of the Revolution," [1203]

was purely and simply a political measure. If he had had his way,

he would have set up a system of religious councils in France, to

be utilized against all disturbing tendencies in politics. [1204]

Had he succeeded, he was capable of suppressing all manifestations

of freethought in the interests of "order." [1205] He had, in fact,

no disinterested love of truth; and we have his express declaration,

at St. Helena, on the subject of Molière's Tartufe: "I do not hesitate

to say that if the piece had been written in my time, I would not

have permitted its representation." [1206] Freethought can make no

warm claim to the allegiance of such a ruler; and if the Church of

Rome is concerned to claim him as a son on the score of his deathbed

adherence, after a reign which led the Catholic clergy of Spain to

hold him up to the faithful as an incarnation of the devil, [1207]

she will hardly gain by the association. Napoleon's ideas on religious

questions were in fact no more noteworthy than his views on economics,

which were thoroughly conventional.

A Short History of Freethought Ancient and Modern, Volume 2 of 2 Third edition, Revised and Expanded, in two volumes · 第 16 / 25 章