CHAPTER V.
At length Louis XIV. died. When it was positively known that the old king had ceased to breathe, the people went almost mad with joy.[518] The tyranny which had weighed them down was removed; and there at once followed a reaction which, for sudden violence, has no parallel in modern history.[519] The great majority indemnified themselves for their forced hypocrisy by indulging in the grossest licentiousness. But among the generation then forming, there were some high-spirited youths, who had far higher views, and whose notions of liberty were not confined to the license of the gaming-house and the brothel. Devoted to the great idea of restoring to France that freedom of utterance which it had lost, they naturally turned their eyes towards the only country where the freedom was practised. Their determination to search for liberty in the place where alone it could be found, gave rise to that junction of the French and English intellects, which, looking at the immense chain of its effects, is by far the most important fact in the history of the eighteenth century.
During the reign of Louis XIV., the French, puffed up by national vanity, despised the barbarism of a people who were so uncivilized as to be always turning on their rulers, and who, within the space of forty years, had executed one king, and deposed another.[520] They could not believe that such a restless horde possessed anything worthy the attention of enlightened men. Our laws, our literature, and our manners, were perfectly unknown to them; and I doubt if at the end of the seventeenth century there were, either in literature or in science, five persons in France acquainted with the English language.[521] But a long experience of the reign of Louis XIV. induced the French to reconsider many of their opinions. It induced them to suspect that despotism may have its disadvantages, and that a government composed of princes and bishops is not necessarily the best for a civilized country. They began to look, first with complacency, and then with respect, upon that strange and outlandish people, who, though only separated from themselves by a narrow sea, appeared to be of an altogether different kind; and who, having punished their oppressors, had carried their liberties and their prosperity to a height of which the world had seen no example. These feelings, which before the Revolution broke out, were entertained by the whole of the educated classes in France, were in the beginning, confined to those men whose intellects placed them at the head of their age. During the two generations which elapsed between the death of Louis XIV. and the outbreak of the Revolution, there was hardly a Frenchman of eminence who did not either visit England or learn English; while many of them did both. Buffon, Brissot, Broussonnet, Condamine, Delisle, Elie de Beaumont, Gournay, Helvétius, Jussieu, Lalande, Lafayette, Larcher, L'Héritier, Montesquieu, Maupertuis, Morellet, Mirabeau, Nollet, Raynal, the celebrated Roland, and his still more celebrated wife, Rousseau, Ségur, Suard, Voltaire—all these remarkable persons flocked to London, as also did others of inferior ability, but of considerable influence, such as Brequiny, Bordes, Calonne, Coyer, Cormatin, Dufay, Dumarest, Dezallier, Favier, Girod, Grosley, Godin, D'Hancarville, Hunauld, Jars, Le Blanc, Ledru, Lescallier, Linguet, Lesuire, Lemonnier, Levesque de Pouilly, Montgolfier, Morand, Patu, Poissonier, Reveillon, Septchènes, Silhouette, Siret, Soulavie, Soulès, and Valmont de Brienne.
Nearly all of these carefully studied our language, and most of them seized the spirit of our literature. Voltaire, in particular, devoted himself with his usual ardour to the new pursuit, and acquired in England a knowledge of those doctrines, the promulgation of which, afterwards won for him so great a reputation.[522] He was the first who popularized in France the philosophy of Newton, where it rapidly superseded that of Descartes.[523] He recommended to his countrymen the writings of Locke;[524] which soon gained immense popularity, and which supplied materials to Condillac for his system of metaphysics,[525] and to Rousseau for his theory of education.[526] Besides this, Voltaire was the first Frenchman who studied Shakespeare; to whose works he was greatly indebted, though he afterwards wished to lessen what he considered the exorbitant respect paid to them in France.[527] Indeed, so intimate was his knowledge of the English language,[528] that we can trace his obligations to Butler,[529] one of the most difficult of our poets, and to Tillotson,[530] one of the dullest of our theologians. He was acquainted with the speculations of Berkeley,[531] the most subtle metaphysician who has ever written in English; and he had read the works, not only of Shaftesbury,[532] but even of Chubb,[533] Garth,[534] Mandeville,[535] and Woolston.[536] Montesquieu imbibed in our country many of his principles; he studied our language; and he always expressed admiration for England, not only in his writings, but also in his private conversation.[537] Buffon learnt English, and his first appearance as an author was as the translator of Newton and of Hales.[538] Diderot, following in the same course, was an enthusiastic admirer of the novels of Richardson;[539] he took the idea of several of his plays from the English dramatists, particularly from Lillo; he borrowed many of his arguments from Shaftesbury and Collins, and his earliest publication was a translation of Stanyan's History of Greece.[540] Helvétius, who visited London, was never weary of praising the people; many of the views in his great work on the Mind are drawn from Mandeville; and he constantly refers to the authority of Locke, whose principles hardly any Frenchman would at an earlier period have dared to recommend.[541] The works of Bacon, previously little known, were now translated into French; and his classification of the human faculties was made the basis of that celebrated Encyclopædia, which is justly regarded as one of the greatest productions of the eighteenth century.[542] The Theory of Moral Sentiments, by Adam Smith, was during thirty-four years translated three different times, by three different French authors.[543] And such was the general eagerness, that directly the Wealth of Nations, by the same great writer, appeared, Morellet, who was then high in reputation, began to turn it into French; and was only prevented from printing his translation by the circumstance, that before it could be completed, another version of it was published in a French periodical.[544] Coyer, who is still remembered for his Life of Sobieski, visited England; and after returning to his own country, showed the direction of his studies by rendering into French the Commentaries of Blackstone.[545] Le Blanc travelled in England, wrote a work expressly upon the English, and translated into French the Political Discourses of Hume.[546] Holbach was certainly one of the most active leaders of the liberal party in Paris; but a large part of his very numerous writings consists solely in translations of English authors.[547] Indeed, it may be broadly stated, that while, at the end of the seventeenth century, it would have been difficult to find, even among the most educated Frenchmen, a single person acquainted with English, it would, in the eighteenth century, have been nearly as difficult to find in the same class one who was ignorant of it. Men of all tastes, and of the most opposite pursuits, were on this point united as by a common bond. Poets, geometricians, historians, naturalists, all seemed to agree as to the necessity of studying a literature on which no one before had wasted a thought. In the course of general reading, I have met with proofs that the English language was known, not only to those eminent Frenchmen whom I have already mentioned, but also to mathematicians, as D'Alembert,[548] Darquier,[549] Du Val le Roy,[550] Jurain,[551] Lachapelle,[552] Lalande,[553] Le Cozic,[554] Montucla,[555] Pezenas,[556] Prony,[557] Romme,[558] and Roger Martin;[559] to anatomists, physiologists, and writers on medicine, as Barthèz,[560] Bichat,[561] Bordeu,[562] Barbeu Dubourg,[563] Bosquillon,[564] Bourru,[565] Begue de Presle,[566] Cabanis,[567] Demours,[568] Duplanil,[569] Fouquet,[570] Goulin,[571] Lavirotte,[572] Lassus,[573] Petit Radel,[574] Pinel,[575] Roux,[576] Sauvages,[577] and Sue;[578] to naturalists, as Alyon,[579] Brémond,[580] Brisson,[581] Broussonnet,[582] Dalibard,[583] Haüy,[584] Latapie,[585] Richard,[586] Rigaud,[587] and Romé de Lisle;[588] to historians, philologists, and antiquaries, as Barthélemy,[589] Butel Dumont,[590] De Brosses,[591] Foucher,[592] Freret,[593] Larcher,[594] Le Coc de Villeray,[595] Millot,[596] Targe,[597] Velly,[598] Volney,[599] and Wailly;[600] to poets and dramatists, as Chéron,[601] Colardeau,[602] Delille,[603] Desforges,[604] Ducis,[605] Florian,[606] Laborde,[607] Lefèvre de Beauvray,[608] Mercier,[609] Patu,[610] Pompignan,[611] Quétant,[612] Roucher,[613] and Saint Ange;[614] to miscellaneous writers, as Bassinet,[615] Baudeau,[616] Beaulaton,[617] Benoist,[618] Bergier,[619] Blavet,[620] Bouchaud,[621] Bougainville,[622] Bruté,[623] Castera,[624] Chantreau,[625] Charpentier,[626] Chastellux,[627] Contant d'Orville,[628] De Bissy,[629] Demeunier,[630] Desfontaines,[631] Devienne,[632] Dubocage,[633] Dupré,[634] Duresnel,[635] Eidous,[636] Estienne,[637] Favier,[638] Flavigny,[639] Fontanelle,[640] Fontenay,[641] Framery,[642] Fresnais,[643] Fréville,[644] Frossard,[645] Galtier,[646] Garsault,[647] Goddard,[648] Goudar,[649] Guénée,[650] Guillemard,[651] Guyard,[652] Jault,[653] Imbert,[654] Joncourt,[655] Kéralio,[656] Laboreau,[657] Lacombe,[658] Lafargue,[659] La Montagne,[660] Lanjuinais,[661] Lasalle,[662] Lasteyrie,[663] Le Breton,[664] Lécuy,[665] Léonard des Malpeines,[666] Letourneur,[667] Linguet,[668] Lottin,[669] Luneau,[670] Maillet Duclairon,[671] Mandrillon,[672] Marsy,[673] Moet,[674] Monod,[675] Mosneron,[676] Nagot,[677] Peyron,[678] Prévost,[679] Puisieux,[680] Rivoire,[681] Robinet,[682] Roger,[683] Roubaud,[684] Salaville,[685] Sauseuil,[686] Secondat,[687] Septchènes,[688] Simon,[689] Soulès,[690] Suard,[691] Tannevot,[692] Thurot,[693] Toussaint,[694] Tressan,[695] Trochereau,[696] Turpin,[697] Ussieux,[698] Vaugeois,[699] Verlac,[700] and Virloys.[701] Indeed, Le Blanc, who wrote shortly before the middle of the eighteenth century, says: ‘We have placed English in the rank of the learned languages; our women study it, and have abandoned Italian in order to study the language of this philosophic people; nor is there to be found among us any one who does not desire to learn it.’[702]
Such was the eagerness with which the French imbibed the literature of a people whom but a few years before they had heartily despised. The truth is, that in this new state of things they had no alternative. For where but in England was a literature to be found that could satisfy those bold and inquisitive thinkers who arose in France after the death of Louis XIV.? In their own country there had no doubt been great displays of eloquence, of fine dramas, and of poetry, which, though never reaching the highest point of excellence, is of finished and admirable beauty. But it is an unquestionable fact, and one melancholy to contemplate, that during the sixty years which succeeded the death of Descartes, France had not possessed a single man who dared to think for himself. Metaphysicians, moralists, historians, all had become tainted by the servility of that bad age. During two generations, no Frenchman had been allowed to discuss with freedom any question, either of politics or of religion. The consequence was, that the largest intellects, excluded from their legitimate field, lost their energy; the national spirit died away; the very materials and nutriment of thought seemed to be wanting. No wonder then, if the great Frenchmen of the eighteenth century sought that aliment abroad which they were unable to find at home. No wonder if they turned from their own land, and gazed with admiration at the only people who, pushing their inquiries into the highest departments, had shown the same fearlessness in politics as in religion; a people who, having punished their kings and controlled their clergy, were storing the treasures of their experience in that noble literature which never can perish, and of which it may be said in sober truth, that it has stimulated the intellect of the most distant races, and that, planted in America and in India, it has already fertilized the two extremities of the world.
There are, in fact, few things in history so instructive as the extent to which France was influenced by this new pursuit. Even those who took part in actually consummating the Revolution, were moved by the prevailing spirit. The English language was familiar to Carra,[703] Dumouriez,[704] Lafayette,[705] and Lanthénas.[706] Camille Desmoulins had cultivated his mind from the same source.[707] Marat travelled in Scotland as well as in England, and was so profoundly versed in our language that he wrote two works in it; one of which, called The Chains of Slavery, was afterwards translated into French.[708] Mirabeau is declared by a high authority to have owed part of his power to a careful study of the English constitution;[709] he translated not only Watson's History of Philip II., but also some parts of Milton;[710] and it is said that when he was in the National Assembly, he delivered, as his own, passages from the speeches of Burke.[711] Mounier was well acquainted with our language, and with our political institutions both in theory and in practice;[712] and in a work, which exercised considerable influence, he proposed for his own country the establishment of two chambers, to form that balance of power of which England supplied the example.[713] The same idea, derived from the same source, was advocated by Le Brun, who was a friend of Mounier's, and who, like him, had paid attention to the literature and government of the English people.[714] Brissot knew English; he had studied in London the working of the English institutions, and he himself mentions that, in his treatise on criminal law, he was mainly guided by the course of English legislation.[715] Condorcet also proposed as a model our system of criminal jurisprudence,[716] which, bad as it was, certainly surpassed that possessed by France. Madame Roland, whose position, as well as ability, made her one of the leaders of the democratic party, was an ardent student of the language and literature of the English people.[717] She too, moved by the universal curiosity, came to our country; and, as if to show that persons of every shade and of every rank were actuated by the same spirit, the Duke of Orleans likewise visited England; nor did his visit fail to produce its natural results. ‘It was,’ says a celebrated writer, ‘in the society of London that he acquired a taste for liberty; and it was on his return from there that he brought into France a love of popular agitation, a contempt for his own rank, and a familiarity with those beneath him.’[718]
This language, strong as it is, will not appear exaggerated to any one who has carefully studied the history of the eighteenth century. It is no doubt certain, that the French Revolution was essentially a reaction against that protective and interfering spirit which reached its zenith under Louis XIV., but which, centuries before his reign, had exercised a most injurious influence over the national prosperity. While, however, this must be fully conceded, it is equally certain that the impetus to which the reaction owed its strength, proceeded from England; and that it was English literature which taught the lessons of political liberty, first to France, and through France to the rest of Europe.[719] On this account, and not at all from mere literary curiosity, I have traced with some minuteness that union between the French and English minds, which, though often noticed, has never been examined with the care its importance deserves. The circumstances which reinforced this vast movement will be related towards the end of the volume; at present I will confine myself to its first great consequence, namely, the establishment of a complete schism between the literary men of France, and the classes who exclusively governed the country.
Those eminent Frenchmen who now turned their attention to England, found in its literature, in the structure of its society, and in its government, many peculiarities of which their own country furnished no example. They heard political and religious questions of the greatest moment debated with a boldness unknown in any other part of Europe. They heard dissenters and churchmen, whigs and tories, handling the most dangerous topics, and treating them with unlimited freedom. They heard public disputes respecting matters which no one in France dared to discuss; mysteries of state and mysteries of creed unfolded and rudely exposed to the popular gaze. And, what to Frenchmen of that age must have been equally amazing, they not only found a public press possessing some degree of freedom, but they found that within the very walls of parliament the administration of the crown was assailed with complete impunity, the character of its chosen servants constantly aspersed, and, strange to say, even the management of its revenues effectually controlled.[720]
The successors of the age of Louis XIV., seeing these things, and seeing, moreover, that the civilization of the country increased as the authority of the upper classes and of the crown diminished, were unable to restrain their wonder at so novel and exciting a spectacle. ‘The English nation,’ says Voltaire, ‘is the only one on the earth, which, by resisting its kings, has succeeded in lessening their power.[721] How I love the boldness of the English! how I love men who say what they think!’[722] The English, says Le Blanc, are willing to have a king, provided they are not obliged to obey him.[723] The immediate object of their government, says Montesquieu, is political liberty;[724] they possess more freedom than any republic;[725] and their system is in fact a republic disguised as a monarchy.[726] Grosley, struck with amazement, exclaims, ‘Property is in England a thing sacred, which the laws protect from all encroachment, not only from engineers, inspectors, and other people of that stamp, but even from the king himself.’[727] Mably, in the most celebrated of all his works, says, ‘The Hanoverians are only able to reign in England because the people are free, and believe they have a right to dispose of the crown. But if the kings were to claim the same powers as the Stuarts, if they were to believe that the crown belonged to them by divine right, they would be condemning themselves and confessing that they were occupying a place which is not their own.’[728] In England, says Helvétius, the people are respected; every citizen can take some part in the management of affairs; and authors are allowed to enlighten the public respecting its own interests.[729] And Brissot, who had made these matters his especial study, cries out, ‘Admirable constitution! which can only be disparaged either by men who know it not, or else by those whose tongues are bridled by slavery.’[730]
Such were the opinions of some of the most celebrated Frenchmen of that time; and it would be easy to fill a volume with similar extracts. But, what I now rather wish to do, is, to point out the first great consequence of this new and sudden admiration for a country which, in the preceding age, had been held in profound contempt. The events which followed are, indeed, of an importance impossible to exaggerate; since they brought about that rupture between the intellectual and governing classes, of which the revolution itself was but a temporary episode.
The great Frenchmen of the eighteenth century being stimulated by the example of England into a love of progress, naturally came into collision with the governing classes, among whom the old stationary spirit still prevailed. This opposition was a wholesome reaction against that disgraceful servility for which, in the reign of Louis XIV., literary men had been remarkable; and if the contest which ensued had been conducted with anything approaching to moderation, the ultimate result would have been highly beneficial; since it would have secured that divergence between the speculative and practical classes which, as we have already seen, is essential to maintain the balance of civilization, and to prevent either side from acquiring a dangerous predominance. But, unfortunately, the nobles and clergy had been so long accustomed to power, that they could not brook the slightest contradiction from those great writers, whom they ignorantly despised as their inferiors. Hence it was, that when the most illustrious Frenchmen of the eighteenth century attempted to infuse into the literature of their country a spirit of inquiry similar to that which existed in England, the ruling classes became roused into a hatred and jealousy which broke all bounds, and gave rise to that crusade against knowledge which forms the second principal precursor of the French Revolution.
The extent of that cruel persecution to which literature was now exposed, can only be fully appreciated by those who have minutely studied the history of France in the eighteenth century. For it was not a stray case of oppression, which occurred here and there; but it was a prolonged and systematic attempt to stifle all inquiry, and punish all inquirers. If a list were drawn up of all the literary men who wrote during the seventy years succeeding the death of Louis XIV., it would be found, that at least nine out of every ten had suffered from the government some grievous injury; and that a majority of them had been actually thrown into prison. Indeed, in saying thus much, I am understating the real facts of the case; for I question if one literary man out of fifty escaped with entire impunity. Certainly, my own knowledge of those times, though carefully collected, is not so complete as I could have wished; but, among those authors who were punished, I find the name of nearly every Frenchman whose writings have survived the age in which they were produced. Among those who suffered either confiscation, or imprisonment, or exile, or fines, or the suppression of their works, or the ignominy of being forced to recant what they had written, I find, besides a host of inferior writers, the names of Beaumarchais, Berruyer, Bougeant, Buffon, D'Alembert, Diderot, Duclos, Freret, Helvétius, La Harpe, Linguet, Mably, Marmontel, Montesquieu, Mercier, Morellet, Raynal, Rousseau, Suard, Thomas, and Voltaire.
The mere recital of this list is pregnant with instruction. To suppose that all these eminent men deserved the treatment they received, would, even in the absence of direct evidence, be a manifest absurdity; since it would involve the supposition, that a schism having taken place between two classes, the weaker class was altogether wrong, and the stronger altogether right. Fortunately, however, there is no necessity for resorting to any merely speculative argument respecting the probable merits of the two parties. The accusations brought against these great men are before the world; the penalties inflicted are equally well known; and, by putting these together, we may form some idea of the state of society, in which such things could be openly practised.
Voltaire, almost immediately after the death of Louis XIV., was falsely charged with having composed a libel on that prince; and, for this imaginary offence, he, without the pretence of a trial, and without even the shadow of a proof, was thrown into the Bastille, where he was confined more than twelve months.[731] Shortly after he was released, there was put upon him a still more grievous insult; the occurrence, and, above all, the impunity of which, supply striking evidence as to the state of society in which such things were permitted. Voltaire, at the table of the Duke de Sully, was deliberately insulted by the Chevalier de Rohan Chabot, one of those impudent and dissolute nobles who then abounded in Paris. The duke, though the outrage was committed in his own house, in his own presence, and upon his own guest, would not interfere; but seemed to consider that a poor poet was honoured by being in any way noticed by a man of rank. But, as Voltaire, in the heat of the moment, let fall one of those stinging retorts which were the terror of his enemies, the chevalier determined to visit him with further punishment. The course he adopted was characteristic of the man, and of the class to which he belonged. He caused Voltaire to be seized in the streets of Paris, and in his presence ignominiously beaten, he himself regulating the number of blows of which the chastisement was to consist. Voltaire, smarting under the insult, demanded that satisfaction which it was customary to give. This, however, did not enter into the plan of his noble assailer, who not only refused to meet him in the field, but actually obtained an order, by which he was confined in the Bastille for six months, and at the end of that time was directed to quit the country.[732]
Thus it was that Voltaire, having first been imprisoned for a libel which he never wrote, and having then been publicly beaten because he retorted an insult wantonly put upon him, was now sentenced to another imprisonment, through the influence of the very man by whom he had been attacked. The exile which followed the imprisonment seems to have been soon remitted; as, shortly after these events, we find Voltaire again in France, preparing for publication his first historical work, a life of Charles XII. In this, there are none of those attacks on Christianity which gave offence in his subsequent writings; nor does it contain the least reflection upon the arbitrary government under which he had suffered. The French authorities at first granted that permission, without which no book could then be published; but as soon as it was actually printed, the license was withdrawn, and the history forbidden to be circulated.[733] The next attempt of Voltaire was one of much greater value: it was therefore repulsed still more sharply. During his residence in England, his inquisitive mind had been deeply interested by a state of things so different from any he had hitherto seen; and he now published an account of that remarkable people, from whose literature he had learned many important truths. His work, which he called Philosophic Letters, was received with general applause; but, unfortunately for himself, he adopted in it the arguments of Locke against innate ideas. The rulers of France, though not likely to know much about innate ideas, had a suspicion that the doctrine of Locke was in some way dangerous; and, as they were told that it was a novelty, they felt themselves bound to prevent its promulgation. Their remedy was very simple. They ordered that Voltaire should be again arrested and that his work should be burned by the common hangman.[734]
These repeated injuries might well have moved a more patient spirit than that of Voltaire.[735] Certainly, those who reproach this illustrious man, as if he were the instigator of unprovoked attacks upon the existing state of things, must know very little of the age in which it was his misfortune to live. Even on what has been always considered the neutral ground of physical science, there was displayed the same despotic and persecuting spirit. Voltaire, among other schemes for benefiting France, wished to make known to his countrymen the wonderful discoveries of Newton, of which they were completely ignorant. With this view, he drew up an account of the labours of that extraordinary thinker; but here again the authorities interposed, and forbade the work to be printed.[736] Indeed, the rulers of France, as if sensible that their only security was the ignorance of the people, obstinately set their face against every description of knowledge. Several eminent authors had undertaken to execute, on a magnificent scale, an Encyclopædia, which should contain a summary of all the branches of science and of art. This, undoubtedly the most splendid enterprise ever started by a body of literary men, was at first discouraged by the government, and afterwards entirely prohibited.[737] On other occasions, the same 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. was himself a great hunter.[738] 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 apostacy, 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.[739] That the punishment extended no further, was an instance of remarkable leniency; for Fréret, an eminent critic and scholar,[740] 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.[741] The same penalty was inflicted four different times upon Lenglet du Fresnoy.[742] 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.[743]
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.[744] The celebrated treatise of Helvétius on the mind was suppressed by an order from the royal council: it was burned by the common hangman, and the author was compelled to write two letters, retracting his opinions.[745] 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.[746] The learned Observations on the History of France, by Mably, were suppressed as soon as they appeared;[747] 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.[748] 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.[749] The Analysis of Bayle, by Marsy, was suppressed, and the author was imprisoned.[750] 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.[751] Delisle de Sales was sentenced to perpetual exile, and confiscation of all his property, on account of his work on the Philosophy of Nature.[752] The treatise by Mey, on French Law, was suppressed;[753] that by Boncerf, on Feudal Law, was burned.[754] The Memoirs of Beaumarchais were likewise burned;[755] the Eloge on Fénelon by La Harpe was merely suppressed.[756] 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.[757] The celebrated work of De Lolme on the English constitution was suppressed by edict directly it appeared.[758] The fate of being suppressed, or prohibited, also awaited the Letters of Gervaise, in 1724;[759] the Dissertations of Courayer, in 1727;[760] the Letters of Montgon, in 1732;[761] the History of Tamerlane, by Margat, also in 1732;[762] the Essay on Taste, by Cartaud, in 1736;[763] the Life of Domat, by Prévost de la Jannès, in 1742;[764] the History of Louis XI., by Duclos, in 1745;[765] the Letters of Bargeton, in 1750;[766] the Memoirs on Troyes, by Grosley, in the same year;[767] the History of Clement XI., by Reboulet, in 1752;[768] the School of Man, by Génard, also in 1752;[769] the Therapeutics of Garlon, in 1756;[770] the celebrated thesis of Louis, on Generation, in 1754;[771] the Treatise on Presidial Jurisdiction, by Jousse, in 1755;[772] the Ericie of Fontanelle, in 1768;[773] the Thoughts of Jamin, in 1769;[774] the History of Siam, by Turpin, and the Eloge of Marcus Aurelius, by Thomas, both in 1770;[775] the works on Finance by Darigrand in 1764; and by Le Trosne, in 1779;[776] the Essay on Military Tactics, by Guibert, in 1772; the Letters of Boucquet, in the same year;[777] and the Memoirs of Terrai, by Coquereau, in 1776.[778] 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.[779] 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 Abridgment 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.[780]
It will probably be allowed that I have collected sufficient evidence to substantiate my assertion respecting the persecutions directed against every description of literature; but the carelessness with which the antecedents of the French Revolution have been studied, has given rise to such erroneous opinions on this subject, that I am anxious to add a few more instances, so as to put beyond the possibility of doubt the nature of the provocations habitually received by the most eminent Frenchmen of the eighteenth century.
Among the many celebrated authors who, though, inferior to Voltaire, Montesquieu, Buffon, and Rousseau, were second only to them, three of the most remarkable were Diderot, Marmontel, and Morellet. The first two are known to every reader; while Morellet, though comparatively forgotten, had in his own time considerable influence, and had, moreover, the distinguished merit of being the first who popularized in France those great truths which had been recently discovered in political economy by Adam Smith, and in jurisprudence by Beccaria.
A certain M. Cury wrote a satire upon the Duke d'Aumont, which he showed to his friend Marmontel, who, struck by its power, repeated it to a small circle of his acquaintance. The duke, hearing of this, was full of indignation, and insisted upon the name of the author being given up. This, of course, was impossible without a gross breach of confidence; but Marmontel, to do everything in his power, wrote to the duke, stating, what was really the fact, that the lines in question had not been printed, that there was no intention of making them public, and that they had only been communicated to a few of his own particular friends. It might have been supposed that this would have satisfied even a French noble; but Marmontel, still doubting the result, sought an audience of the minister, in the hope of procuring the protection of the crown. All, however, was in vain. It will hardly be believed, that Marmontel, who was then at the height of his reputation, was seized in the middle of Paris, and because he refused to betray his friend, was thrown into the Bastille. Nay, so implacable were his persecutors, that after his liberation from prison they, in the hope of reducing him to beggary, deprived him of the right of publishing the Mercure, upon which nearly the whole of his income depended.[781]