IV. Birth Of Socialist Theory, Its Two Sides.
Precedents for this theory.—Administrative centralization.—
The Utopia of the Economists.—Invalidity of preceding
rights.—Collateral associations not tolerated.—Complete
alienation of the individual from the community.—Rights of
the State in relation to property, education and religion.—
The State a Spartan convent.
For this theory has two aspects; whereas one side leads towards the perpetual demolition of government, the other results in the unlimited dictatorship of the State. The new social contract is not a historic pact, like the English Declaration of Rights in 1688, or the Dutch federation in 1579, entered into by actual and living individuals, admitting acquired situations, groups already formed, established positions, and drawn up to recognize, define, guarantee and complete anterior rights. Antecedent to the social contract no veritable right exist; for veritable rights are born solely out of the social contract, the only valid one, since it is the only one agreed upon between beings perfectly equal and perfectly free, so many abstract creatures, so many species of mathematical units, all of the same value, all playing the same part and whose inequality or constraint never disturbs the common understanding. Hence at the moment of its completion, all other facts are nullified. Property, family, church, no ancient institution may invoke any right against the new State. The area on which it is built up must be considered vacant; if old structures are partly allowed to remain it is only in its name and for its benefit, to be enclosed within its barriers and appropriated to its use; the entire soil of humanity is its property. On the other hand it is not, according to the American doctrine, an association for mutual protection, a society like other societies, circumscribed in its purpose, restricted to its office, limited in its powers, and by which individuals reserving to themselves the better portion of their property and persons, assess each other for the maintenance of an army, a police, tribunals, highways, schools, in short, the major instruments of public safety and utility, at the same time withholding the remainder of local, general, spiritual and material services in favor of private initiative and of spontaneous associations that may arise as occasion or necessity calls for them. Our State is not to be a simple utilitarian machine, a convenient, handy implement, of which the workman avails himself without abandoning the free use of his hand, or the simultaneous use of other implements. Being elder born, the only son and sole representative of Reason it must, to ensure its sway, leave nothing beyond its grasp.—In this respect the old régime paves the way for the new one, while the established system inclines minds beforehand to the budding theory. Through administrative centralization the State already, for a long time, has its hands everywhere.3419
"You must know," says Law to the Marquis d'Argenson, "that the kingdom of France is governed by thirty intendants. You have neither parliaments, assemblies or governors, simply thirty masters of requests, provincial clerks, on whom depends the happiness or misery, the fruitfulness or sterility of these provinces."
The king, in fact, sovereign, father, and universal guardian, manages local affairs through his delegates, and intervenes in private affairs through his favors or lettres-de-cachet (royal orders of imprisonment). Such an example and such a course followed for fifty years excites the imagination. No other instrument is more useful for carrying large reforms out at one time. Hence, far from restricting the central power the economists are desirous of extending its action. Instead of setting up new dikes against it they interest themselves only in destroying what is left of the old dikes still interfering with it. "The system of counter-forces in a government," says Quesnay and his disciples, "is a fatal idea. . . The speculations on which the system of counter-balance is founded are chimerical. . . . Let the government have a full comprehension of its duties and be left free. . . The State must govern according to the essential laws of order, and in this case unlimited power is requisite." On the approach of the Revolution the same doctrine reappears, except in the substitution of one term for another term. In the place of the sovereignty of the king the "Contrat social" substitutes the sovereignty of the people. The latter, however, is much more absolute than the former, and, in the democratic convent which Rousseau constructs, on Spartan and Roman model, the individual is nothing and the State everything.
In effect, "the clauses of the social contract reduce themselves to one, namely, the total transfer of each associate with all his rights to the community."3420 Every one surrenders himself entirely, "just as he stands, he and all his forces, of which his property forms a portion." There is no exception nor reservation; whatever he may have been previously and whatever may have belonged to him is no longer his own. Henceforth whatever he becomes or whatever he may possess devolves on him only through the delegation of the social body, the universal proprietor and absolute master. All rights must be vested in the State and none in the individual; otherwise there would be litigation between them, and, "as there is no common superior to decide between them" their litigation would never end. One the contrary, through the complete donation which each one makes of himself, "the unity is as perfect as possible;" having renounced himself "he has no further claim to make."
This being admitted let us trace the consequences.—
In the first place, I enjoy my property only through tolerance and at second-hand; for, according to the social contract, I have surrendered it;3421 "it now forms a portion of the national estate;" If I retain the use of its for the time being it is through a concession of the State which makes me a "depositary" of it. And this favor must not be considered as restitution. "Far from accepting the property of individuals society despoils them of it, simply converting the usurpation into a veritable right, the enjoyment of it into proprietorship." Previous to the social contract I was possessor not by right but in fact and even unjustly if I had large possessions; for, "every man has naturally a right to whatever he needs," and I have robbed other men of all that I possessed beyond my subsistence. Hence, so far from the State being under obligation to me, I am under obligation to it, the property which it returns to me not being mine but that with which the State favors me. It follows, accordingly, that the State may impose conditions on its gift, limit the use I may make of it, according to its fancy, restrict and regulate my disposition of it, my right to bequeath it. "According to nature,3422 the right of property does not extend beyond the life of its owner; the moment he dies his possessions are no longer his own. Thus, to prescribe the conditions on which he may dispose of it is really less to change his right in appearance than to extend it in effect." In any event as my title is an effect of the social contract it is precarious like the contract itself; a new stipulation suffices to limit it or to destroy it. "The sovereign3423 may legitimately appropriate to himself all property, as was done in Sparta in the time of Lycurgus." In our lay convent whatever each monk possesses is only a revocable gift by the convent.
In the second place, this convent is a seminary. I have no right to bring up my children in my own house and in my own way.
"As the reason of each man3424 must not be the sole arbiter of his rights, so much less should the education of children, which is of more consequence to the State than to fathers, be left to the intelligence and prejudice of their fathers." "If public authority, by taking the place of fathers, by assuming this important function, then acquires their rights through fulfilling their duties, they have so much the less reason to complain inasmuch as they merely undergo a change of name, and, under the title of citizens, exercise in common the same authority over their children that they have separately exercised under the title of fathers."
In other words you cease to be a father, but, in exchange, become a school inspector; one is as good as the other, and what complaint have you to make? Such was the case in that perpetual army called Sparta; there, the children, genuine regimental children, equally obeyed all properly formed men.
"Thus public education, within laws prescribed by the government and under magistrates appointed by sovereign will, is one of the fundamental maxims of popular or legitimate government."
Through this the citizen is formed in Advance.
"The government gives the national form to souls.3425 Nations, in the long run, are what the government makes them—soldiers, citizens, men when so disposed, a populace, canaille if it pleases," being fashioned by their education. "Would you obtain an idea of public education? Read Plato's 'Republic.'3426.... The best social institutions are those the best qualified to change man's nature, to destroy his absolute being, to give him a relative being, and to convert self into the common unity, so that each individual may not regard himself as one by himself, but a part of the unity, and no longer sensitive but through the whole. An infant, on opening its eyes, must behold the common patrimony and, to the day of its death, behold that only.... He should be disciplined so as never to contemplate the individual except in his relations with the body of the State."
Such was the practice of Sparta, and the sole aim of the "great Lycurgus." "All being equal through the law, they must be brought up together and in the same manner." "The law must regulate the subjects, the order and the form of their studies." They must, at the very least, take part in public exercises, in horse-races, in the games of strength and of agility instituted "to accustom them to law, equality, fraternity, and competition;" to teach them how "to live under the eyes of their fellow-citizens and to crave public applause."
Through these games they become democrats from their early youth, since, the prizes being awarded, not through the arbitrariness of masters, but through the cheers of spectators, they accustom themselves to recognizing as sovereign the legitimate sovereignty, consisting of the verdict of the assembled people. The foremost interest of the State is, always, to form the wills of those by which it lasts, to prepare the votes that are to maintain it, to uproot passions in the soul that might be opposed to it, to implant passions that will prove favorable to it, to fix firmly with the breasts of its future citizens the sentiments and prejudices it will at some time need.3427 If it does not secure the children it will not possess the adults, Novices in a convent must be as monks, otherwise, when they grow up, the convent will no longer exist.
Finally, our lay convent has its own religion, a lay religion. If I possess any other it is through its condescension and under restrictions. It is, by nature, hostile to other associations than its own; they are rivals, they annoy it, they absorb the will and pervert the votes of its members.
"To ensure a full declaration of the general will it is an important matter not to allow any special society in the State, and that each citizen should pronounce according to it alone."3428 "Whatever breaks up social unity is worthless," and it would be better for the State if there were no Church.—
Not only is every church suspicious but, if I am a Christian, my belief is regarded unfavorably. According to this new legislator "nothing is more opposed to the social spirits than Christianity. . . . A society of true Christians would no longer form a society of men." For, "the Christian patrimony is not of this world." It cannot zealously serve the State, being bound by its conscience to support tyrants. Its law "preaches only servitude and dependence. . . it is made for a slave," and never will a citizen be made out of a slave. "Christian Republic, each of these two words excludes the other." Therefore, if the future Republic assents to my profession of Christianity, it is on the understood condition that my doctrine shall be shut up in my mind, without even affecting my heart. If I am a Catholic, (and twenty-five out of twenty-six million Frenchmen are like me), my condition is worse. For the social pact does not tolerate an intolerant religion; any sect that condemns other sects is a public enemy; "whoever presumes to say that there is no salvation outside the church, must be driven out of the State."
Should I be, finally, a free-thinker, a positivist or skeptic, my situation is little better.
"There is a civil religion," a catechism, "a profession of faith, of which the sovereign has the right to dictate the articles, not exactly as religious dogmas but as sentiments of social import without which we cannot be a good citizen or a loyal subject." These articles embrace "the existence of a powerful, intelligent, beneficent, foreseeing and provident divinity, the future life, the happiness of the righteous, the punishment of the wicked, the sacredness of the social contract and of the laws.3429 Without forcing anyone to believe in this creed, whoever does not believe in it must be expelled from the State; it is necessary to banish such persons not on account of impiety, but as unsociable beings, incapable of sincerely loving law and justice and, if need be, of giving up life for duty."
Take heed that this profession of faith be not a vain one, for a new inquisition is to test its sincerity.
"Should any person, after having publicly recognized these dogmas, act as an unbeliever, let him be punished with death. He has committed the greatest of crimes: he has lied before the law."
Truly, as I said above, we are in a convent
V. Social Contract, Summary.
it becomes monomania.—Why its work is not enduring.
These articles are all inevitable consequences of the social contract. The moment I enter the corporation I abandon my own personality; I abandon, by this act, my possessions, my children, my church, and my opinions. I cease to be proprietor, father, Christian and philosopher. The state is my substitute in all these functions. In place of my will, there is henceforth the public will, that is to say, in theory, the mutable absolutism of a majority counted by heads, while in fact, it is the rigid absolutism of the assembly, the faction, the individual who is custodian of the public authority.—On this principle an outburst of boundless conceit takes place. The very first year Grégoire states in the tribune of the Constituent Assembly, "we might change religion if we pleased, but we have no such desire." A little later the desire comes, and it is to be carried out; that of Holbach is proposed, then that of Rousseau, and they dare go much farther. In the name of Reason, of which the State alone is the representative and interpreter, they undertake to unmake and make over, in conformity with Reason and with Reason only, all customs, festivals, ceremonies, and costumes, the era, the calendar, weights and measures, the names of the seasons, months, weeks and days, of places and monuments, family and baptismal names, complimentary titles, the tone of discourse, the mode of salutation, of greeting, of speaking and of writing, in such a fashion, that the Frenchman, as formerly with the puritan or the Quaker, remodeled even in his inward substance, exposes, through the smallest details of his conduct and exterior, the dominance of the all-powerful principle which refashions his being and the inflexible logic which controls his thoughts. This constitutes the final result and complete triumph of the classic spirit. Installed in narrow brains, incapable of entertaining two related ideas, it is to become a cold or furious monomania, fiercely and unrelentingly destroying a past it curses, and attempting to establish a millennium, and all in the name of an illusory contract, at once anarchical and despotic, which unfetters insurrection and justifies dictatorship; all to end in a conflicting social order resembling sometimes a drunken orgy of demons, and sometimes a Spartan convent; all aimed at replacing the real human being, slowly formed by his past with an improvised robot, who, through its own debility, will collapse when the external and mechanical force that keeps it up will no longer sustain it.
3401 (return)
[ Barrère, "Point du
jour," No. 1, (June 15, 1789). "You are summoned to give history a fresh
start."]
3402 (return)
[ Condorcet, ibid.,
"Tableau des progrès de l'esprit humain," the tenth epoch. "The methods of
the mathematical sciences, applied to new objects, have opened new roads
to the moral and political sciences."—Cf. Rousseau, in the "Contrat
Social," the mathematical calculation of the fraction of sovereignty to
which each individual is entitled.]
3403 (return)
[ Saint-Lambert,
"Catéchisme universel," the first dialogue, p. 17.]
3404 (return)
[ Condorcet, ibid.,
ninth epoch. "From this single truth the publicists have been able to
derive the rights of man."]
3405 (return)
[ Rousseau still
entertained admiration for Montesquieu but, at the same time, with some
reservation; afterwards, however, the theory developed itself, every
historical right being rejected. "Then," says Condorcet, (ibid., ninth
epoch), "they found themselves obliged abandon a false and crafty policy
which, forgetful of men deriving equal rights through their nature,
attempted at one time to estimate those allowed to them according to
extent of territory, the temperature of the climate, the national
character, the wealth of the population, the degree of perfection of their
commerce and industries, and again to apportion the same rights unequally
among diverse classes of men, bestowing them on birth, riches and
professions, and thus creating opposing interests and opposing powers, for
the purpose of subsequently establishing an equilibrium alone rendered
necessary by these institutions themselves and which the danger of their
tendencies by no means corrects."]
3406 (return)
[ Condillac,
"Logique."]
3407 (return)
[ "Histoire de France
par Estampes," 1789. (In the collection of engravings, Bibliotheque
Nationale de Paris.)]
3408 (return)
[ Mme. de Genlis,
"Souvenirs de Félicie," 371-391.]
3409 (return)
[ De Tocqueville,
"L'Ancien régime," 237.—Cf. "L'an 2440," by Mercier, III. vols. One
of these lovely daydreams in all its detail may be found here. The work
was first published in 1770. "The Revolution," says one of the characters,
"was brought about without an effort, through the heroism of a great man,
a royal philosopher worthy of power, because he despised it," etc. (Tome
II. 109.)]
3410 (return)
[ "Mémoires de M.
Bouillé," p.70.—Cf. Barante, "Tableau de la litt. française au
dixhuitième siècle," p. 318. "Civilization and enlightenment were supposed
to have allayed all passions and softened all characters. It seemed as if
morality had become easy of practice and that the balance of social order
was so well adjusted that nothing could disturb it."]
3411 (return)
[ See in Rousseau, in
the "Lettre à M. de Beaumont," a scene of this description, the
establishment of deism and toleration, associated with a similar
discourse.]
3412 (return)
[ Roux et Buchez,
"Histoire parlementaire," IV. 322, the address made on the 11th Feb.,
1790. "What an affecting and sublime address," says a deputy. It was
greeted by the Assembly, with "unparalleled applause." The whole address
ought to have been quoted entire.]
3413 (return)
[ The number of
cerebral cells is estimated (the cortical layer) at twelve hundred
millions (in 1880)and the fibers binding them together at four thousand
millions. (Today in 1990 it is thought that the brain contains one million
million neurons and many times more fibers. SR.)]
3414 (return)
[ In his best-selling
book "The Blind Watchmaker",(Published 1986) the biologist Richard Dawkins
writes: "All appearances to the contrary, the only watchmaker in nature is
the blind forces of physics, albeit deployed in a very special way. A true
watchmaker has foresight: he designs his cogs and springs, and plans their
interconnections, with a future purpose in his mind's eye. Natural
selection, the blind, unconscious, automatic process which Darwin
discovered, and which we now know is the explanation for the existence and
apparently purposeful form of all life, has no purpose in mind. It has no
mind and no mind's eye. it does not plan for the future. It has no vision,
no foresight, no sight at all. If it can be said to play the role of
watchmaker in nature, it is the blind watchmaker." (SR.)]
3415 (return)
[ Already Michel
Montaigne (1533-1592) had noted man's tendency to over-estimate his own
powers of judgment: 'So, to return to myself, the sole feature for which I
hold myself in some esteem is that in which no man has ever thought
himself defective. My self-approbation is common, and shared by all. For
who has ever considered himself lacking in common sense? This would be a
self-contradictory proposition. Lack of sense is a disease that never
exists when it is seen; it is most tenacious and strong, yet the first
glance from the patient's eye pierces it through and disperses it, as a
dense mist is dispersed by the sun's beams. To accuse oneself would amount
to self-absolution. There never was a street-porter or a silly woman who
was not sure of having as much sense as was necessary. We readily
recognize in others a superiority in courage, physical strength,
experience, agility, or beauty. But a superior judgment we concede to
nobody. And we think that we could ourselves have discovered the reasons
which occur naturally to others, if only we had looked in the same
direction.') (SR.)]
3416 (return)
[ My father's cousin, a
black-smith issue from a long line of country black-smiths, born in 1896,
used to say that the basic principle elevating children was to ensure
"that the child never should be able to exclude the possibility of good
thrashing." (SR).]
3417 (return)
[ Rousseau, "Contrat
social," I, ch. 7; III. ch. 13, 14, 15, 18; IV. ch. 1.—Cf.
Condorcet, ninth epoch.]
3418 (return)
[ Rousseau, "Contrat
social," III, 1, 18; IV, 3.]
3419 (return)
[ De Tocqueville,
"L'Ancien régime," book II. entire, and book III. ch. 3.]
3420 (return)
[ Rousseau, "Contrat
social." I.6.]
3421 (return)
[ Ibidem I. 9. "The
State in relation to its members is master of all their possessions
according to the social compact. . . possessors are considered as
depositaries of the public wealth."]
3422 (return)
[ Rousseau, "Discours
sur l'Economie politique," 308.]
3423 (return)
[ Ibid. "Emile," book
V. 175.]
3424 (return)
[ Rousseau, "Discours
sur l'Economie politique," 302]
3425 (return)
[ Rousseau, on the
"Government de Pologne," 277, 283, 287.]
3426 (return)
[ Ibid. "Emile," book
I.]
3427 (return)
[ Morelly, "Code de la
nature." "At the age of five all children should be removed their families
and brought up in common, at the charge of the State, in a uniform
manner." A similar project, perfectly Spartan, was found among the papers
of St.-Just.]
3428 (return)
[ Rousseau, "Contrat
social," II. 3; IV.8.]
3429 (return)
[ Cf. Mercier, "L'an
2240," I. ch. 17 and 18. From 1770 on, he traces the programme of a system
of worship similar to that of the Théophilanthropists, the chapter being
entitled: "Pas si éloigné qu'on pense."]
BOOK FOURTH. THE PROPAGATION OF THE DOCTRINE.
CHAPTER I.—SUCCESS OF THIS PHILOSOPHY IN FRANCE.—FAILURE OF THE SAME
PHILOSOPHY IN ENGLAND.
Several similar theories have in the past traversed the imagination of men, and similar theories are likely do so again. In all ages and in all countries, it sufficed that man's concept of his own nature changed for, as an indirect consequence, new utopias and discoveries would sprout in the fields of politics and religion.4101—But this does not suffice for the propagation of the new doctrine nor, more important, for theory to be put into practice. Although born in England, the philosophy of the eighteenth century could not develop itself in England; the fever for demolition and reconstruction remained but briefly and superficial there. Deism, atheism, materialism, skepticism, ideology, the theory of the return to nature, the proclamations of the rights of man, all the temerities of Bolingbroke, Collins, Toland, Tindal and Mandeville, the bold ideas of Hume, Hartley, James Mill and Bentham, all the revolutionary doctrines, were so many hotbed plants produced here and there, in the isolated studies of a few thinkers: out in the open, after blooming for a while, subject to a vigorous competition with the old vegetation to which the soil belonged, they failed4102.—On the contrary, in France, the seed imported from England, takes root and spreads with extraordinary vigor. After the Regency it is in full bloom4103. Like any species favored by soil and climate, it invades all the fields, appropriating light and air to itself, scarcely allowing in its shade a few puny specimens of a hostile species, a survivor of an antique flora like Rollin, or a specimen of an eccentric flora like Saint-Martin. With large trees and dense thickets, through masses of brushwood and low plants, such as Voltaire, Montesquieu, Rousseau, Diderot, d'Alembert and Buffon, or Duclos, Mably, Condillac, Turgot, Beaumarchais, Bernadin de Saint-Pierre, Barthélemy and Thomas, such as a crowd of journalists, compilers and conversationalists, or the elite of the philosophical, scientific and literary multitude, it occupies the Academy, the stage, the drawing room and the debate. All the important persons of the century are its offshoots, and among these are some of the grandest ever produced by humanity.—This was possible because the seed had fallen on suitable ground, that is to say, on the soil in the homeland of the classic spirit. In this land of the raison raisonnante4104 it no longer encounters the antagonists who impeded its growth on the other side of the Channel, and it not only immediately acquires vigor of sap but the propagating organ which it required as well.
I. The Propagating Organ, Eloquence.
Its superiority at this epoch.—It serves as the vehicle of
new ideas.—Books are written for people of the world.—
This accounts for philosophy descending to the drawing room.
This organ is the "talent of speech, eloquence applied to the gravest subjects, the talent for making things clear." 4105"The great writers of this nation," says their adversary, "express themselves better than those of any other nation. Their books give but little information to true savants," but "through the art of expression they influence men" and "the mass of men, constantly repelled from the sanctuary of the sciences by the dry style and bad taste of (other) scientific writers, cannot resist the seductions of the French style and method." Thus the classic spirit that furnishes the ideas likewise furnishes the means of conveying them, the theories of the eighteenth century being like those seeds provided with wings which float and distribute themselves on all soils. There is no book of that day not written for people of the high society, and even for women of this class. In Fontenelle's dialogues on the Plurality of worlds the principal person age is a marchioness. Voltaire composes his "Métaphysique" and his "Essai sur les Moeurs" for Madame du Chatelet, and Rousseau his "Emile" for Madame d'Epinay. Condillac wrote the "Traité des Sensations" from suggestions of Mademoiselle Ferrand, and he sets forth instructions to young ladies how to read his "Logique." Baudeau dedicates and explains to a lady his "Tableau Economique." Diderot's most profound work is a conversation between Mademoiselle de l'Espinasse and d'Alembert and Bordeu4106. Montesquieu had placed an invocation to the muses in the middle of the "Esprit des Lois." Almost every work is a product of the drawing-room, and it is always one that, before the public, has been presented with its beginnings. In this respect the habit is so strong as to last up to the end of 1789; the harangues about to be made in the National Assembly are also passages of bravura previously rehearsed before ladies at an evening entertainment. The American Ambassador, a practical man, explains to Washington with sober irony the fine academic and literary parade preceding the political tournament in public4107.
"The speeches are made beforehand in a small society of young men and women, among them generally the fair friend of the speaker is one, or else the fair whom he means to make his friend,; and the society very politely give their approbation, unless the lady who gives the tone to that circle chances to reprehend something, which is of course altered, if not amended."
It is not surprising, with customs of this kind, that professional philosophers should become men of society. At no time or in any place have they been so to the same extent, nor so habitually. The great delight of a man of genius or of learning here, says an English traveler, is to reign over a brilliant assembly of people of fashion4108. Whilst in England they bury themselves morosely in their books, living amongst themselves and appearing in society only on condition of "doing some political drudgery," that of journalist or pamphleteer in the service of a party, in France they dine out every evening, and constitute the ornaments and amusement of the drawing-rooms to which they resort to converse4109. There is not a house in which dinners are given that has not its titular philosopher, and, later on, its economist and man of science. In the various memoirs, and in the collections of correspondence, we track them from one drawing room to another, from one chateau to another, Voltaire to Cirey at Madame du Chatelet's, and then home, at Ferney where he has a theater and entertains all Europe; Rousseau to Madame d'Epinay's, and M. de Luxembourg's; the Abbé Barthelemy to the Duchesse de Choiseul's; Thomas, Marmontel and Gibbon to Madame Necker's; the encyclopedists to d'Holbach's ample dinners, to the plain and discreet table of Madame Geoffrin, and to the little drawing room of Mademoiselle de L'Espinasse, all belonging to the great central state drawing-room, that is to say, to the French Academy, where each newly elected member appears to parade his style and obtain from a polished body his commission of master in the art of discourse. Such a public imposes on an author the obligation of being more a writer than a philosopher. The thinker is expected to concern himself with his sentences as much as with his ideas. He is not allowed to be a mere scholar in his closet, a simple erudite, diving into folios in German fashion, a metaphysician absorbed with his own meditations, having an audience of pupils who take notes, and, as readers, men devoted to study and willing to give themselves trouble, a Kant, who forms for himself a special language, who waits for a public to comprehend him and who leaves the room in which he labors only for the lecture-room in which he delivers his lectures. Here, on the contrary, in the matter of expression, all are experts and even professional. The mathematician d'Alembert publishes a small treatise on elocution; Buffon, the naturalist pronounces a discourse on Style; the legist Montesquieu composes an essay on Taste; the psychologist Condillac writes a volume on the art of writing. In this consists their greatest glory; philosophy owes its entry into society to them. They withdrew it from the study, the closed-society and the school, to introduce it into company and into conversation.
II. Its Method.
Owing to this method it becomes popular.
"Madame la Maréchale," says one of Diderot's personages,4110. "I must consider things from a somewhat higher point of view."—"As high as you please so long as I understand you."—"If you do not understand me it will be my fault."—"You are very polite, but you must know that I have studied nothing but my prayer book."—That makes no difference; the pretty woman, ably led on, begins to philosophize without knowing it, arriving without effort at the distinction between good and evil, comprehending and deciding on the highest doctrines of morality and religion.—Such is the art of the eighteenth century, and the art of writing. People are addressed who are perfectly familiar with life, but who are commonly ignorant of orthography, who are curious in all directions, but ill prepared for any; the object is to bring truth down to their level4111. Scientific or too abstract terms are inadmissible; they tolerate only those used to ordinary conversation. And this is no obstacle; it is easier to talk philosophy in this language than to use it for discussing precedence and clothes. For, in every abstract question there is some leading and simple conception on which the rest depends, those of unity, proportion, mass and motion in mathematics; those of organ, function and being in physiology; those of sensation, pain, pleasure and desire in psychology; those of utility, contract and law in politics and morality; those of capital, production, value, exchange in political economy, and the same in the other sciences, all of these being conceptions derived from passing experience; from which it follows that, in appealing to common experience by means of a few familiar circumstances, such as short stories, anecdotes, agreeable tales, and the like, these conceptions are fashioned anew and rendered precise. This being accomplished, almost everything is accomplished; for nothing then remains but to lead the listener along step by step, flight by flight, to the remotest consequences.
"Will Madame la Maréchale have the kindness to recall my definition?"—"I remember it well-do you call that a definition?"—"Yes."—"That, then, is philosophy!"—"Admirable!"—"And I have been philosophical?"—"As you read prose, without being aware of it."
The rest is simply a matter of reasoning, that is to say, of leading on, of putting questions in the right order, and of analysis. With the conception thus renewed and rectified the truth nearest at hand is brought out, then out of this, a second truth related to the first one, and so on to the end, no other obligation being involved in this method but that of carefully advancing step by step, and of omitting no intermediary step.—With this method one is able to explain all, to make everything understood, even by women, and even by women of society. In the eighteenth century it forms the substance of all talents, the warp of all masterpieces, the lucidity, popularity and authority of philosophy. The "Eloges" of Fontenelle, the "Philosophe ignorant et le principe d'action" by Voltaire, the "Lettre à M. de Beaumont," and the "Vicaire Savoyard" by Rousseau, the "Traité de l'homme" and the "Époques de la Nature" by Buffon, the "Dialogues sur les blés" by Galiani, the "Considérations" by d'Alembert, on mathematics, the "Langue des Calculs" and the "Logique" by Condillac, and, a little later, the "Exposition du système du Monde" by Laplace, and "Discours généraux" by Bichat and Cuvier; all are based on this method4112. Finally, this is the method which Condillac erects into a theory under the name of ideology, soon acquiring the ascendancy of a dogma, and which then seems to sum up all methods. At the very least it sums up the process by which the philosophers of the century obtained their audience, propagated their doctrine and achieved their success.