project], most estimable by their learning and character, formed
an association to compose an immense Dictionary of whatever could
enlighten the human mind, and it became an object of commerce with
the booksellers. The Chancellor, the Ministry, all encouraged so
noble an enterprise. Seven volumes had already appeared, and were
translated into English, German, Dutch, and Italian. This treasure,
opened by the French to all nations, may be considered as what did
us most honour at the time, so much were the excellent articles in
the _Encyclopédie_ superior to the bad, which also were tolerably
numerous. One had little to complain of in the work, except too
many puerile declamations unfortunately adopted by the editors, who
seized whatever came to hand to swell the work. But all which those
editors wrote themselves was good.”
The article which was particularly selected by the prosecution was
that on the Soul, “one of the worst in the work, written by a poor
doctor of the Sorbonne, who killed himself with declaiming, rightly
or wrongly, against materialism.” The writers, as “encyclopédistes”
and “philosophers” were long marked by those titles for the public
opprobrium. This general persecution had the effect of uniting that
party for common defence. For Voltaire himself an important advantage
was secured. Most of the principal men of letters and science, up to
this time either avowed enemies or coldly-distant friends, henceforward
enrolled themselves under his undisputed leadership.
About the same period he published a number of pieces, prose and
verse, directed against his enemies of various kinds, theatrical as
well as theological. Amongst the latter, conspicuous by their attacks,
but still more so by their punishment, were Fréron and Desfontaines,
whose chastisement was such that, according to Macaulay’s hyperbolic
expression, “scourging, branding, pillorying would have been a trifle
to it.” It is more pleasing, however, to turn from this fierce war of
retaliation, in which neither party was free from blame, to proofs
of the real benevolence of his disposition. We can merely note the
strenuous efforts he made, unsolicited, on behalf of Admiral Byng and
the Comte de Lally, and the still more meritorious labours in the
less well-known histories of Calas and Serven. Not by these public
acts alone did the man, who has been accused of malignity, discover
the humanity of his character: to whose ready assistance in money, as
well as in counsel, the unfortunate of the literary tribe and others
acknowledged their obligations.
His _Philosophie de l’Histoire_, the prototype of its successors
in name at least, was designed to expose that long-established and
prevailing idolatry of Antiquity, which received everything bequeathed
by it with astounding credulity. The _Philosophie_ called forth a
numerous host of small critics, to which men who knew, or ought to
have known better, allied themselves. Their curious way of maintaining
the credit of Antiquity afforded, as may be imagined, the author of
the _Defence of my Uncle_, under which title Voltaire chose to defend
himself, full scope for the exercise of his unrivalled powers of irony.
Warburton, the pedant Bishop of Gloucester, with his odd theories about
the “Divine Legation,” comes in for a share of this Dunciad sort of
immortalisation.
A work of equal merit with the _Philosophie_ are the _Questions_,
addressed to the lovers of science, upon the _Encyclopædia_, wherein,
in the form of a dictionary, he treats, as the Marquis de Condorcet
eloquently describes,
“Successively of theology, grammar, natural philosophy, and
literature. At one time he discusses subjects of Antiquity; at
another questions of policy, legislation, and public economy.
His style, always animated and seductive, clothed these various
subjects with a charm hitherto known to himself alone, and which
springs chiefly from the licence with which, yielding to his
successive emotions, adapting his style less to his subject than
to the momentary disposition of his mind, sometimes he spreads
ridicule over objects which seem capable of inspiring only
horror, and almost instantaneously hurried away by the energy and
sensibility of his soul, he vehemently and eloquently exclaims
against abuses which he had just before treated with mockery. His
anger is excited by false taste; he quickly perceives that his
indignation ought to be reserved for interests more important, and
he finishes by laughing in his usual way. Sometimes he abruptly
leaves a moral or political discussion for a literary criticism,
and in the midst of a lesson on taste he pronounces abstract maxims
of the profoundest philosophy, or makes a sudden and terrible
attack on fanaticism and tyranny.”
It is with his romances that we are here chiefly concerned, since it is
in those lighter productions of his genius that he has most especially
allowed us to see his opinions upon flesh-eating. In the charming tale
of _The Princess of Babylon_, her attendant _Phœnix_ thus accounts to
his mistress for the silence of his brethren of the inferior races:--
“It is because men fell into the practice of eating us in place of
holding converse with and being instructed by us. The barbarians!
Ought they not to have convinced themselves that, having the same
organs as they, the same power of feeling, the same wants, the same
desires, we have what they call _soul_ as well as themselves, that
we are their brethren, and that only the wicked and bad deserve to
be cooked and eaten? We are to such a degree your brethren that the
Great Being, the Eternal and Creative Being, having made a covenant
with men[164], expressly comprised us in the treaty. He forbad
_you_ to feed yourselves upon our blood, and _us_ to suck yours.
The fables of your Lokman, translated into so many languages, will
be an everlasting witness of the happy commerce which you formerly
had with us. It is true that there are many women among you who are
always talking to their Dogs; but they have resolved never to make
any answer, from the time that they were forced by blows of the
whip to go hunting and to be the accomplices of the murder of our
old common friends, the Deer and the Hares and the Partridges. You
have still some old poems in which Horses talk and your coachmen
address them every day, but with so much grossness and coarseness,
and with such infamous words, that Horses who once loved you now
detest you.... The shepherds of the Ganges, born all equal, are
the owners of innumerable flocks who feed in meadows that are
perpetually covered with flowers. They are never slaughtered there.
It is a horrible crime in the country of the Ganges to kill and eat
one’s fellows [_semblables_]. Their wool, finer and more brilliant
than the most beautiful silk, is the greatest object of commerce in
the Orient.”
A certain king had the temerity to attack this innocent people:--
“The king was taken prisoner with more than 600,000 men. They
bathed him in the waters of the Ganges; they put him on the
salutary _régime_ of the country, which consists in vegetables,
which are lavished by Nature for the support of all human beings.
Men, fed upon carnage and drinking strong drinks, have all an
empoisoned and acrid blood, which drives them mad in a hundred
different ways. Their principal madness is that of shedding the
blood of their brothers, and of devastating fertile plains to reign
over cemeteries.”
Her admirable instructor caused the princess to enter
“A dining-hall, whose walls were covered with orange-wood. The
under-shepherds and shepherdesses, in long white dresses girded
with golden bands, served her in a hundred baskets of simple
porcelain, with a hundred delicious meats, among which was seen
no disguised corpse. The feast was of rice, of sago, of semolina,
of vermicelli, of maccaroni, of omelets, of eggs in milk, of
cream-cheeses, of pastries of every kind, of vegetables, of fruits
of perfume and taste of which one has no idea in other climates,
and a profusion of refreshing drinks superior to the best wines.”
Having occasion to visit the land _par excellence_ of flesh-eaters, and
being entertained at the house of a certain English lord, the hero, the
amiable lover of the princess, is questioned by his host
“Whether they ate ‘good roast beef’ in the country of the people
of the Ganges. The Vegetarian traveller replied to him with his
accustomed politeness that they did not eat their brethren in that
part of the world. He explained to him the system and diet which
was that of Pythagoras, of Porphyry, of Iamblichus; whereupon
_milord_ went off into a sound slumber.”[165]
Amabed, a young Hindu, writes from Europe to his affianced mistress
his impressions of the Christian sacred books and, in particular, of
Christian carnivorousness:--
“I pity those unfortunates of Europe who have, at the most, been
created only 6,940 years; while our era reckons 115,652 years [the
Brahminical computation]. I pity them more for wanting pepper, the
sugar-cane, and tea, coffee, silk, cotton, incense, aromatics, and
everything that can render life pleasing. But I pity them still
more for coming from so great a distance, among so many perils, to
ravish from us, arms in hand, our provisions. It is said at Calicut
they have committed frightful cruelties only to procure pepper.
It makes the Hindu nature, which is in every way different from
theirs, shudder; their stomachs are carnivorous, they get drunk on
the fermented juices of the vine, which was planted, they say, by
their Noah. Father Fa-Tutto [one of the missionaries], polished
as he is, has himself cut the throats of two little chickens; he
has caused them to be boiled in a cauldron, and has devoured them
without pity. This barbarous action has drawn upon him the hatred
of all the neighbourhood, whose anger we have appeased only with
much difficulty. May God pardon me! I believe that this stranger
would have eaten our sacred Cows, who give us milk, if he had
been allowed to do so. A promise has been extorted from him that
he will commit no more murders of Hens, and that he will content
himself with fresh eggs, milk, rice, and our excellent fruits
and vegetables--pistachio nuts, dates, cocoa nuts, almond cakes,
biscuits, ananas, oranges, and with everything which our climate
produces, blessed be the Eternal!”
In another letter to his old Hindu teacher from Rome, whither he had
been induced to go by the missionaries, speaking of the feasts in that
“citadel of the faith,” he writes:--
“The dining-hall was grand, convenient, and richly ornamented. Gold
and silver shone upon the sideboards. Gaiety and wit animated the
guests. But, meantime, in the kitchens blood and fat were streaming
in one horrible mass; skins of quadrupeds, feathers of birds and
their entrails, piled up pell-mell, oppressed the heart, and spread
the infection of fevers.”[166]
That one who hated and denounced injustice of all kinds, and who
sympathised with the suffering of all innocent life, should thus
characterise the cruelty of the Slaughter-House is what we might
naturally look for; as also that he should denounce the kindred and
even worse atrocity of the physiological Laboratory. And it is a
strange and unaccountable fact that, amongst the humanitarians of
his time, he stands apparently alone in condemnation of the secret
tortures of the vivisectionists and pathologists--although, perhaps,
the almost universal silence may be attributable, in part, to the
very secresy of the experiments which only recent vigilance has fully
detected. Exposing the equally absurd and arrogant denial of reason and
intelligence to other animals, and instancing the dog, he proceeds:--
“There are barbarians who seize this dog, who so prodigiously
surpasses man in friendship, and nail him down to a table, and
dissect him alive to shew you the mezaraic veins. You discover
in him all the same organs of feeling as in yourself. Answer me,
Machinist [_i.e._, supporter of the theory of mere mechanical
action], has Nature really arranged all the springs of feeling in
this animal _to the end that he might not feel_? Has he nerves
_that he may be incapable_ of suffering? Do not suppose that
impertinent contradiction in Nature.”[167]
To the final triumph which in Paris awaited this champion of the weak,
at the advanced age of 84, and the unexampled enthusiasm of the people,
and the closing act of his eventful life, we can here merely refer.
In Berlin, Friedrich ordered a solemn mass in the cathedral church in
commemoration of his genius and virtues. A more enduring monument than
any conventional mark of human vanity is the legacy which he left to
posterity, which will last as long as the French language, and, still
more, the humanity embodied in one of his later verses:--
“J’ai fait un peu de bien, c’est mon meilleur ouvrage.”
The faults of his character and writings which, for the most part, lie
on the surface (one of the most regretable of which was his sometimes
servile flattery of men in power, and the only excuse for which was his
eagerness to gain them over to moderation and justice) will be deemed
by impartial criticism to have been more than counterbalanced by his
real and substantial merits. That he allowed his ardent indignation to
overmaster the sense of propriety in too many instances, in dealing
with subjects which ought to be dealt with in a judicial and serious
manner, is that fault in his writings which must always cause the
greatest regret. In his discourse at his reception by the French
Academy he remarks that “the art of instruction, when it is perfect, in
the long run, succeeds better than the art of sarcasm, because Satire
dies with those who are the victims of it; while Reason and Virtue are
eternal.” It would have been well, in many instances, had he practised
this principle. But, however objectionably his convictions were
sometimes expressed, his ardent love of truth and hatred of injustice
have secured for him an imperishable fame; while Göthe’s estimate of
his intellectual pre-eminence--that he has the greatest name in all
Literature--is not likely soon to be disputed by Posterity.
XXV.
HALLER. 1708-1777.
The founder of Modern Physiology was born at Berne. In 1723 he went
to Tübingen to study medicine, afterwards to Leyden, where the famous
Boerhaave was at the height of his reputation. Twelve years later he
received the appointment of physician to the hospital at Berne; but
soon afterwards he was invited by George II., as Elector of Hanover, to
accept the professorship of anatomy and surgery at the University of
Göttingen.
His scientific writings are extraordinarily numerous. From 1727 to 1777
he published nearly 200 treatises. His great work is his _Elements
of the Physiology of the Human Body_ (in Latin), 1757-1766--the most
important treatise on medical science--or at least on anatomy and
surgery--up to that time produced. The _Icones Anatomicæ_ (“Anatomical
Figures”) is “a marvellously accurate, well-engraved representation of
the principal organs of the human body.” His writings are marked by
unusual clearness of meaning, as well as by accurate and deep research.
We wish that we could here stop; but the force of truth compels us
to affirm that, for us at least, his reputation, great as it is in
science, has been for ever tarnished by his sacrifices--with frightful
torture--of innocent victims on the altars of a selfish and sanguinary
science.
One plea in extenuation of this callousness in regard to the suffering
of other animals, and only one, can be offered in his defence. At this
very moment, after all the humanitarian doctrine that has been preached
during the century since the death of Haller, tortures of the most
cold-blooded kind are being inflicted on tens of thousands of horses,
deer, dogs, rabbits, and others, in all the “laboratories” of Europe;
while he had neither the prolonged experience of the uselessness of
all such unnatural experimentation, of which the vivisectors and
pathologists of our day are in possession, nor the same indoctrination
of a higher morality, which has been the heritage of these latter days.
The scientific barbarity of Haller does not affect the nature of his
physiological testimony, which, it might be presumed, ought to be of
some weight with his disciples and representatives of the present day.
He asserts:--
“This food, then, that I have hitherto described, in which flesh
has no part, is salutary; inasmuch as it fully nourishes a man,
protracts life to an advanced period, and prevents or cures such
disorders as are attributable to the acrimony or the grossness of
the blood.”[168]
XXVI.
COCCHI. 1695-1758.
It might justly provoke expression of feeling stronger than that of
astonishment, when we have to record that in South Europe (where
climate and soil unite to recommend and render a _humane_ manner of
living[169] still more easy than in our colder regions) the followers,
or, at all events, the prophets of the Reformed Diet have been
conspicuously few. Since, by the _à fortiori_ argument, if abundant
experience and teaching have proved it to be more conducive to health
in higher latitudes, much more is it evident that it must be fitting
for the people of those parts of the globe nearer to the Equator.
Italy, which has produced Seneca, Cornaro, and Cocchi, is
less obnoxious to the reproach of indifferentism in this most
vitally-important branch of ethics than the western peninsula. But the
“paradise of Europe” has yet to deserve the more glorious title of
“the paradise of Peace,” and to atone (if, indeed, it be possible) for
the cruel shedding of innocent, and in an especial degree superfluous,
blood.
An eminent professor of medicine and of surgery, Antonio Cocchi
distinguished himself also as a philologist. He was born at Benevento.
Before giving himself up to the practice of medicine he devoted several
years to the study of the old and the modern languages of Europe. His
knowledge of English helped to bring him into contact with many men
of science in England, some of whom he met on his visit to London.
Returning to Italy he was named Professor of Medicine at Pisa. He
soon left that University for Florence, where he held the chair of
Anatomy as well as of Philosophy. To him Florence was indebted for its
Botanical Society, with which, in conjunction with Micheli, he endowed
it.
He was a voluminous writer.[170] His _Greek Surgical Books_[171]
contain valuable extracts from the Greek writers on medicine
and surgery not before published. Amongst other writings may
be distinguished his _Treatise on the Use of Cold Baths by the
Ancients_.[172] The treatise which gives him a place in this work was
published at Florence under the title of _The Pythagorean Diet: for the
Use of the Medical Faculty_.[173]
Dr. Cocchi begins his little treatise with a eulogy and defence of the
great reformer of Samos, and of his radical revolution in food. He
cites the Greek and Latin writers, and especially the earlier Roman
Laws, the Fannian and the Licinian. He proceeds:--
“True and constant vigour of body is the effect of health, which
is much better preserved with watery, herbaceous, frugal, and
tender food, than with _vinous_, abundant, hard, and gross flesh
(_che col carneo vinoso ed unto abundante e duro_). And in a sound
body, a clear intelligence, and desire to suppress the mischievous
inclinations (_voglie dannose_), and to conquer the irrational
passions, produces true worth.”
Cocchi cites the examples of the Greeks and of the Romans as proof that
the non-flesh diet does not diminish courage or strength:--
“The vulgar opinion, then, which, on health reasons, condemns
vegetable food and so much praises animal food, being so
ill-founded, I have always thought it well to oppose myself to it,
moved both by experience and by that refined knowledge of natural
things which some study and conversation with great men have given
me. And perceiving now that such my constancy has been honoured by
some learned and wise physicians with their authoritative adhesion
(_della autorevole sequela_), I have thought it my duty publicly
to diffuse the reasons of the Pythagorean diet, regarded as useful
in medicine, and, at the same time, as full of innocence, of
temperance, and of health. And it is none the less accompanied with
a certain delicate pleasure, and also with a refined and splendid
luxury (_non è privo nemmeno d’una certa delicate voluttà e d’un
lusso gentile e splendido ancora_), if care and skill be applied in
selection and proper supply of the best vegetable food, to which
the fertility and the natural character of our beautiful country
seem to invite us. For my part I have been so much the more induced
to take up this subject, because I have persuaded myself that I
might be of service to intending diet-reformers, there not being,
to my knowledge, any book of which this is the sole subject, and
which undertakes exactly to explain the origin and the reasons of
it.”
His special motive to the publication of his treatise, however, was to
vindicate the claims of the reformer of Samos upon the gratitude of
men:--
“I wished to show that Pythagoras, the first founder of the
vegetable regimen, was at once a very great physicist and a very
great physician; that there has been no one of a more cultured
and discriminating humanity; that he was a man of wisdom and of
experience; that his motive in commending and introducing the new
mode of living was derived not from any extravagant superstition,
but from the desire to improve the health and the manners of
men.”[174]
XXVII.
ROUSSEAU. 1712-1778.
Few lives of writers of equal reputation have been exposed to our
examination with the fulness and minuteness of the life of this the
most eloquent name in French literature. With the exception of the
great Latin father, St. Augustine, no other leader of thought, in
fact, has so entirely revealed to us his inner life, his faults and
weaknesses (often sufficiently startling), no less than the estimable
parts of his character, and we remain in doubt whether more to lament
the infirmities or to admire the candour of the autobiographer.
Jean Jacques Rousseau, son of a Genevan tradesman, had the misfortune
to lose his mother at a very early age. It is to this want of maternal
solicitude and fostering care that some of the errors in his after
career may perhaps be traced. After a short experience of school
discipline he was apprenticed to an engraver, whose coarse violence
must injuriously have affected the nervous temperament of the sensitive
child. Ill-treatment forced him to run away, and he found refuge with
Mde. de Warens, a Swiss lady, a convert to Catholicism, who occupies a
prominent place in the first period of his _Confessions_. Influenced
by her kindness, and by the skilful arguments of his preceptors at the
college at Turin, where she had placed him, the young Rousseau (like
Bayle and Gibbon, before and after him, though from a different motive)
abjured Protestantism, and, for the moment, accepted, or at least
professed, the tenets of the old Orthodoxy. Dismissed from the college
because he refused to take orders, he engaged himself as a domestic
servant or valet. He did not long remain in this position, and he
resought the protection of his friend Mde. de Warens at Chambéry. His
connexion with his too indulgent patroness terminated in the year 1740.
For some years after this his life was of a most erratic, and not
always edifying, kind. We find him employed in teaching at Lyons, and
at another time acting as secretary to the French Embassy at Venice. In
1745 he came to Paris. There he earned a living by copying music. About
this time he met with Therèse Levasseur, the daughter of his hostess,
with whom he formed a lasting but unhappy connexion.