Читайте только на ЛитРес

Книгу нельзя скачать файлом, но можно читать в нашем приложении или онлайн на сайте.

Читать книгу: «History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3», страница 10

Шрифт:

CHAPTER V
DEATH OF LOUIS XIV. REACTION AGAINST THE PROTECTIVE SPIRIT, AND PREPARATIONS FOR THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

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

518.‘L'annonce de la mort du grand roi ne produisit chez le peuple français qu'une explosion de joie.’ Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xxvii. p. 220. ‘Le jour des obsèques de Louis XIV, on établit des guinguettes sur le chemin de Saint-Denis. Voltaire, que la curiosité avoit mené aux funérailles du souverain, vit dans ces guinguettes le peuple ivre de vin et de joie de la mort de Louis XIV.’ Duvernet, Vie de Voltaire, p. 29: see also Condorcet, Vie de Voltaire, p. 118; De Tocqueville, Règne de Louis XV, vol. i. p. 18; Duclos, Mémoires, vol. i. p. 221; Lemontey, Etablissement de Louis XIV, pp. 311, 388.
519.‘Kaum hatte er aber die Augen geschlossen, als alles umschlug. Der reprimirte Geist warf sich in eine zügellose Bewegung.’ Ranke, die Päpste, vol. iii. p. 192.
520.The shock which these events gave to the delicacy of the French mind was very serious. The learned Saumaise declared that the English are ‘more savage than their own mastiffs.’ Carlyle's Cromwell, vol. i. p. 444. Another writer said that we were ‘barbares révoltés;’ and ‘les barbares sujets du roi.’ Mém. de Motteville, vol. ii. pp. 105, 362. Patin likened us to the Turks; and said, that having executed one king, we should probably hang the next. Lettres de Patin, vol. i. p. 261, vol. ii. p. 518, vol. iii. p. 148. Compare Mém. de Campion, p. 213. After we had sent away James II., the indignation of the French rose still higher, and even the amiable Madame Sévigné, having occasion to mention Mary the wife of William III., could find no better name for her than Tullia: ‘la joie est universelle de la déroute de ce prince, dont la femme est une Tullie.’ Lettres de Sévigné, vol. v. p. 179. Another influential French lady mentions ‘la férocité des anglais.’ Lettres inédites de Maintenon, vol. i. p. 303; and elsewhere (p. 109), ‘je hais les anglais comme le peuple… Véritablement je ne les puis souffrir.’
  I will only give two more illustrations of the wide diffusion of such feelings. In 1679, an attempt was made to bring bark into discredit as a ‘remède anglais’ (Sprengel, Hist. de la Médecine, vol. v. p. 430): and at the end of the seventeenth century, one of the arguments in Paris against coffee was that the English liked it. Monteil, Divers Etats, vol. vii. p. 216.
521.‘Au temps de Boileau, personne en France n'apprenait l'anglais.’ Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xxxviii. p. 337, and see vol. xix. p. 159. ‘Parmi nos grands écrivains du xviie siècle, il n'en est aucun, je crois, ou l'on puisse reconnaître un souvenir, une impression de l'esprit anglais.’ Villemain, Lit. au XVIIIe Siècle, vol. iii. p. 324. Compare Barante, XVIIIe Siècle, p. 47, and Grimm, Correspond. vol. v. p. 135, vol. xvii. p. 2.
  The French, during the reign of Louis XIV., principally knew us from the accounts given by two of their countrymen, Monconys and Sorbière; both of whom published their travels in England, but neither of whom were acquainted with the English language. For proof of this, see Monconys, Voyages, vol. iii. pp. 34, 69, 70, 96; and Sorbière, Voyage, pp. 45, 70.
  When Prior arrived at the court of Louis XIV. as plenipotentiary, no one in Paris was aware that he had written poetry (Lettres sur les Anglais, in Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xxvi. p. 130); and when Addison, being in Paris, presented Boileau with a copy of the Musæ Anglicanæ, the Frenchman learnt for the first time that we had any good poets: ‘first conceived an opinion of the English genius for poetry.’ Tickell's statement, in Aikin's Life of Addison, vol. i. p. 65. Finally, it is said that Milton's Paradise Lost was not even by report in France until after the death of Louis XIV., though the poem was published in 1667, and the king died in 1715; ‘Nous n'avions jamais entendu parler de ce poëme en France, avant que l'auteur de la Henriade nous en eût donné une idée dans le neuvième chapitre de son Essai sur la poésie épique.’ Dict. Philos. article Epopée, in Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xxxix. p. 175; see also vol. lxvi. p. 249.
522.‘Le vrai roi du xviiie siècle, c'est Voltaire; mais Voltaire à son tour est un écolier de l'Angleterre. Avant que Voltaire eût connu l'Angleterre, soit par ses voyages, soit part ses amitiés, il n'était pas Voltaire, et le xviiie siècle se cherchait encore.’ Cousin, Hist. de la Philos. Ire série, vol. iii. pp. 38, 39. Compare Damiron, Hist. de la Philos. en France, Paris, 1828, vol. i. p. 34.
523.‘J'avais été le premier qui eût osé développer à ma nation les découvertes de Newton, en langage intelligible.’ Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. i. p. 315; see also vol. xix. p. 87, vol. xxvi. p. 71; Whewell's Hist. of Induc. Sciences, vol. ii. p. 206; Weld's Hist. of the Royal Society, vol. i. p. 441. After this, the Cartesian physics lost ground every day; and in Grimm's Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 148, there is a letter, dated Paris, 1757, which says, ‘Il n'y a guère plus ici de partisans de Descartes que M. de Mairan.’ Compare Observations et Pensées, in Œuvres de Turgot, vol. iii. p. 298.
524.Which he was never weary of praising; so that, as M. Cousin says (Hist. de la Philos. II. série, vol. ii. pp. 311, 312), ‘Locke est le vrai maître de Voltaire.’ Locke was one of the authors he put into the hands of Madame du Châtelet. Condorcet, Vie de Voltaire, p. 296.
525.Morell's Hist. of Philos. 1846, vol. i. p. 134; Hamilton's Discuss. p. 3.
526.‘Rousseau tira des ouvrages de Locke une grande partie de ses idées sur la politique et l'éducation; Condillac toute sa philosophie.’ Villemain, Lit. au XVIIIe Siècle, vol. i. p. 83. See also, on the obligations of Rousseau to Locke, Grimm, Correspond. vol. v. p. 97; Musset Pathay, Vie de Rousseau, vol. i. p. 38, vol. ii. p. 394; Mém. de Morellet, vol. i. p. 113; Romilly's Memoirs, vol. i. pp. 211, 212.
527.In 1768, Voltaire (Œuvres, vol. lxvi. p. 249) writes to Horace Walpole, ‘Je suie le premier qui ait fait connaître Shakespeare aux français.’ See also his Lettres inédites, vol. ii. p. 500; Villemain, Lit. au XVIIIe Siècle, vol. iii. p. 325; and Grimm, Correspond. vol. xii. pp. 124, 125, 133.
528.There are extant many English letters written by Voltaire, which, though of course containing several errors, also contain abundant evidence of the spirit with which he seized our idiomatic expressions. In addition to his Lettres inédites, published at Paris in the present year (1856), see Chatham Correspond. vol. ii. pp. 131–133; and Phillimore's Mém. of Lyttelton, vol. i. pp. 323–325, vol. ii. pp. 555, 556, 558.
529.Grimm, Correspond. vol. i. p. 332; Voltaire, Lettres inédites, vol. ii. p. 258; and the account of Hudibras, with translations from it, in Œuvres, vol. xxvi. pp. 132–137; also a conversation between Voltaire and Townley, in Nichols's Illustrations of the Eighteenth Century, vol. iii. p. 722.
530.Compare Mackintosh's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 341, with Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xxxix. p. 259, vol. xlvii. p. 85.
531.Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xxxviii. pp. 216–218, vol. xlvi. p. 282, vol. xlvii. p. 439, vol. lvii. p. 178.
532.Ibid. vol. xxxvii. p. 353, vol. lvii. p. 66; Correspond. inédite de Dudeffand, vol. ii. p. 230.
533.Œuvres, vol. xxxiv. p. 294, vol. lvii. p. 121.
534.Ibid. vol. xxxvii. pp. 407, 441.
535.Ibid. vol. xxxvi. p. 46.
536.Ibid. vol. xxxiv. p. 288, vol. xli. pp. 212–217; Biog. Univ. vol. li. pp. 199, 200.
537.Lerminier, Philos. du Droit, vol. i. p. 221; Klimrath, Hist. du Droit, vol. ii. p. 502; Harris's Life of Hardwicke, vol. ii. p. 398, vol. iii. pp. 432–434; Mém. de Diderot, vol. ii. pp. 193, 194; Lacretelle, XVIIIe Siècle, vol. ii. p. 24.
538.Villemain, Lit. au XVIIIe Siècle, vol. ii. p. 182; Biog. Univ. vol. vi. p. 235; Le Blanc, Lettres, vol. i. p. 93, vol. ii. pp. 159, 160.
539.‘Admirateur passionné du romancier anglais.’ Biog. Univ. vol. xxxvii. p. 581. Compare Diderot, Corresp. vol. i. p. 352; vol. ii. pp. 44, 52, 53; Mercier sur Rousseau, vol. i. p. 44.
540.Villemain, Lit. vol. ii. p. 115; Schlosser's Eighteenth Century, vol. i. pp. 34, 42; Tennemann, Gesch. der Philos. vol. xi. p. 314; Biog. Univ. vol. xi. p. 314; Grimm, Correspond. vol. xv. p. 81. Stanyan's History of Greece was once famous, and even so late as 1804, I find Dr. Parr recommending it. Parr's Works, vol. viii. p. 422. Diderot told Sir Samuel Romilly that he had collected materials for a history of the trial of Charles I. Life of Romilly, vol. i. p. 46.
541.Diderot, Mém. vol. ii. p. 286; Cousin, Hist. de la Philos. IIe série, vol. ii. p. 331; Helvétius de l'Esprit, vol. i. pp. 31, 38, 46, 65, 114, 169, 193, 266, 268, vol. ii. pp. 144, 163, 165, 195, 212; Letters addressed to Hume, Edinb. 1849, pp. 9, 10.
542.This is the arrangement of our knowledge under the heads of Memory, Reason, and Imagination, which D'Alembert took from Bacon. Compare Whewell's Philos. of the Sciences, vol. ii. p. 306; Cuvier, Hist. des Sciences, part ii. p. 276; Georgel, Mém. vol. ii. p. 241; Bordas Demoulin, Cartésianisme, vol. i. p. 18.
543.Quérard, France Lit. ix. 193.
544.Mém. de Morellet, i. 236, 237.
545.Œuvres de Voltaire, lxv. 161, 190, 212; Biog. Univ. x. 158, 159.
546.Burton's Life of Hume, vol. i. pp. 365, 366, 406.
547.See the list, in Biog. Univ. vol. xx. pp. 463–466; and compare Mém. de Diderot, vol. iii. p. 49, from which it seems that Holbach was indebted to Toland, though Diderot speaks rather doubtingly. In Almon's Mem. of Wilkes 1805, vol. iv. pp. 176, 177, there is an English letter, tolerably well written, from Holbach to Wilkes.
548.Musset Pathay, Vie de Rousseau, ii. 10, 175; Œuvres de Voltaire, liv. 207.
549.Biog. Univ. x. 556.
550.Ibid. xii. 418.
551.Quérard, France Lit. iv. 34, 272.
552.Ibid. iv. 361.
553.Biog. Univ. xxiii. 226.
554.Montucla, Hist. des Mathém. ii. 170.
555.Montucla, ii. 120, iv. 662, 665, 670.
556.Biog. Univ. iii. 253, xxxiii. 564.
557.Quérard, France Lit. vii. 353.
558.Biog. Univ. xxxviii. 530.
559.Ibid. xxxviii. 411.
560.Ibid. iii. 450.
561.Bichat sur la Vie, 244.
562.Quérard, i. 416.
563.Biog. Univ. iii. 345.
564.Quérard, i. 260, 425, ii. 354.
565.Ibid. i. 476.
566.Biog. Univ. iv. 55, 56.
567.Notice sur Cabanis, p. viii. in his Physique et Moral.
568.Biog. Univ. xi. 65, 66.
569.Ibid. xii. 276.
570.Ibid. xv. 359.
571.Ibid. xviii. 187.
572.Quérard, iv. 641, vi. 9, 398.
573.Cuvier, Eloges, i. 354.
574.Quérard, vii. 95.
575.Cuvier, Eloges, iii. 382.
576.Biog. Univ. xxxix. 174.
577.Le Blanc, Lettres, i. 93.
578.Quérard, ix. 286.
579.Robin et Verdeil, Chim. Anat. ii. 416.
580.Biog. Univ. v. 530, 531.
581.Cuvier, Eloges, i. 196.
582.Biog. Univ. vi. 47.
583.Quérard, ii. 372.
584.Haüy, Minéralogie, ii. 247, 267, 295, 327, 529, 609, iii. 75, 293, 307, 447, 575, iv. 45, 280, 292, 362.
585.Quérard, iv. 598.
586.Ibid. viii. 22.
587.Swainson, Disc. on Nat. Hist. 52; Cuvier, Règne Animal, iii. 415.
588.De Lisle, Cristallographie, 1772, xviii. xx. xxiii. xxv. xxvii. 78, 206, 254.
589.Albemarle's Rockingham, ii. 156; Campbell's Chancellors, v. 365.
590.Biog. Univ. vi. 386.
591.Letters to Hume, Edin. 1849, 276, 278.
592.Biog. Univ. xv. 332.
593.Brewster's Life of Newton, ii. 302.
594.Palissot, Mém. ii. 56.
595.Biog. Univ. ix. 549.
596.Ibid. xxix. 51, 53.
597.Ibid. xliv. 534.
598.Ibid. xlviii. 93.
599.Volney, Syrie et Egypte, ii. 100, 157; Quérard, x. 271, 273.
600.Biog. Univ. i. 42.
601.Ibid. viii. 340, 341.
602.Mém. de Genlis, i. 276.
603.Palissot, Mém. i. 243.
604.Biog. Univ. xi. 281, xi. 172, 173.
605.Quérard, ii. 626, 627.
606.Ibid. iii. 141.
607.Quérard, iv. 342.
608.Ibid. v. 83.
609.Ibid. vi. 62.
610.Garrick Correspond. 4to, 1832, ii. 385, 395, 416.
611.Biog. Univ. xxxv. 314.
612.Quérard, vii. 399.
613.Biog. Univ. xxxix. 93.
614.Ibid. xxxix. 530.
615.Quérard, i. 209.
616.Biog. Univ. iii. 533.
617.Ibid. iii. 631.
618.Cuvier, Règne Animal, iii. 334.
619.Quérard, i. 284, vii. 287.
620.Mém. de Morellet, i. 237.
621.Biog. Univ. v. 264.
622.Dutens, Mém. iii. 32.
623.Biog. Univ. vi. 165.
624.Murray's Life of Bruce, 121; Biog. Univ. vi. 79.
625.Ibid. viii. 46.
626.Ibid. viii. 246.
627.Ibid. viii. 266.
628.Ibid. ix. 497.
629.Ibid. xlv. 394.
630.Lettres de Dudeffand à Walpole, iii. 184.
631.Œuvres de Voltaire. lvi. 527.
632.Biog. Univ. xi. 264.
633.Quérard, ii. 598.
634.Biog. Univ. xii. 313, 314.
635.Nichols's Lit. Anec. ii. 154; Palissot, Mém. ii. 311.
636.Biog. Univ. iv. 547, xii. 595.
637.Ibid. xiii. 399.
638.Quérard, iii. 79.
639.Biog. Univ. xv. 29.
640.Ibid. xv. 203.
641.Ibid. 218.
642.Quérard, i. 525.
643.Biog. Univ. xvi. 48.
644.Ibid. li. 508.
645.Smith's Tour on the Continent in 1786, i. 143.
646.Biog. Univ. xvi. 388.
647.Ibid. xvi. 502.
648.Sinclair's Correspond. i. 157.
649.Quérard, iii. 418.
650.Biog. Univ. xix. 13.
651.Quérard, i. 10, iii. 536.
652.Ibid. iii. 469.
653.Biog. Univ. xxi. 419.
654.Ibid. xxi. 200.
655.Œuvres de Voltaire, xxxviii. 244.
656.Palissot, Mém. i. 425.
657.Biog. Univ. xxiii. 34.
658.Ibid. xxiii. 56.
659.Ibid. xxiii. 111.
660.Quérard, iv. 503.
661.Biog. Univ. xxiii. 373.
662.Quérard, iv. 579.
663.Sinclair's Correspond. ii. 139.
664.Mem. and Correspond. of Sir. J. E. Smith, i. 163.
665.Biog. des Hommes Vivants, iv. 164.
666.Quérard, v. 177.
667.Nichols's Lit. Anec. iv. 583; Longchamp et Wagnière, Mém. i. 395.
668.Quérard, v. 316.
669.Biog. Univ. xxv. 87.
670.Ibid. xxv. 432.
671.Ibid. xxvi. 244.
672.Ibid. xxvi. 468.
673.Ibid. xxvii. 269.
674.Ibid. xxix. 208.
675.Lettres de Dudeffand à Walpole, i. 222.
676.Quérard, vi. 330.
677.Biog. Univ. xxx. 539.
678.Ibid. xxxiii. 553.
679.Lettres de Dudeffand à Walpole, i. 22, iii. 307, iv. 207.
680.Biog. Univ. xxxvi. 305, 306.
681.Ibid. xxxviii. 174.
682.Peignot, Dict. des Livres, ii. 233.
683.Quérard, viii. 111.
684.Biog. Univ. xxxix. 84.
685.Biog. des Hommes Vivants, v. 294.
686.Quérard, viii. 474.
687.Biog. Univ. xli. 426.
688.Ibid. xlii. 45, 46.
689.Ibid. xlii. 389.
690.Ibid. xliii. 181.
691.Garrick Correspond. ii. 604; Mém. de Genlis, vi. 205.
692.Biog. Univ. xliv. 512.
693.Life of Roscoe, by his Son, i. 200.
694.Biog. Univ. xlvi. 398, 399.
695.Ibid. xlvi. 497.
696.Quérard, iv. 45, ix. 558.
697.Biog. Univ. xlvii. 98.
698.Ibid. xlvii. 232.
699.Mém. de Brissot, i. 78.
700.Biog. Univ. xlviii. 217, 218.
701.Ibid. xlix. 223.
702.‘Nous avons mis depuis peu leur langue au rang des langues savantes; les femmes même l'apprennent, et ont renoncé à l'italien pour étudier celle de ce peuple philosophe. Il n'est point dans la province d'Armande et de Belise qui ne veuille savoir l'anglois.’ Le Blanc, Lettres, vol. ii. p. 465. Compare Grimm, Corresp. vol. xiv. p. 484; and Nichols's Lit. Anec. vol. iii. pp. 460, 461.
703.Williams's Letters from France, vol. iii. p. 68, 2nd edit. 1796; Biog. Univ. vol. vii. p. 192.
704.Adolphus's Biog. Mem. 1799, vol. i. p. 352.
705.Lady Morgan's France, vol. ii. p. 304; Mém. de Lafayette, vol. i. pp. 41, 49, 70, vol. ii. pp. 26, 74, 83, 89.
706.Quérard, France Littéraire, vol. iv. p. 540.
707.The last authors he read, shortly before his execution, were Young and Hervey. Lamartine, Hist. des Girondins, vol. viii. p. 45. In 1769 Madame Riccoboni writes from Paris, that Young's Night Thoughts had become very popular there; and she justly adds, ‘c'est une preuve sans réplique du changement de l'esprit français.’ Garrick Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 566, 4to. 1832.
708.Lamartine, Hist. des Girondins, vol. iv. p. 119; Mém. de Brissot, vol. i. pp. 336, 337, vol. ii. p. 3.
709.‘Une des supériorités secondaires, une des supériorités d'étude qui appartenaient à Mirabeau, c'était la profonde connaissance, la vive intelligence de la constitution anglaise, de ses ressorts publics et de ses ressorts cachés.’ Villemain, Lit. au XVIIIe Siècle, vol. iv. p. 153.
710.Particularly the democratic passages, ‘un corps de doctrine de tous ses écrits républicains.’ Dumont, Souvenirs sur Mirabeau, p. 119. As to his translation of Watson, see Alison's Europe, vol. i. p. 452. He also intended to translate Sinclair's History of the Revenue. Correspond. of Sir J. Sinclair, vol. ii. p. 119.
711.Prior's Life of Burke, p. 546, 3rd edit. 1839.
712.‘Il étudiait leur langue, la théorie et plus encore la pratique de leurs institutions.’ Biog. Univ. vol. xxx. p. 310.
713.Continuation de Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xxx. p. 434. Montlosier (Monarchie Française, vol. ii. p. 340) says that this idea was borrowed from England; but he does not mention who suggested it.
714.Du Mesnil, Mém. sur Le Brun, pp. 10, 14, 29, 82, 180, 182.
715.Mém. de Brissot, vol. i. pp. 63, 64, vol. ii. pp. 25, 40, 188, 206, 260, 313.
716.Dupont de Nemours (Mém. sur Turgot, p. 117) says of criminal jurisprudence, ‘M. de Condorcet proposait en modèle celle des Anglais.’
717.Mém. de Roland, vol. i. pp. 27, 55, 89, 136, vol. ii. pp. 99, 135, 253.
718.‘Le duc d'Orléans puisa ainsi le goût de la liberté dans la vie de Londres. Il en rapporta en France les habitudes d'insolence contre la cour, l'appétit des agitations populaires, le mépris pour son propre rang, la familiarité avec la foule,’ &c. Lamartine, Hist. des Girondins, vol. ii. p. 102.
719.M. Lerminier (Philos. du Droit, vol. i. p. 19) says of England, ‘cette île célèbre donne à l'Europe l'enseignement de la liberté politique; elle en fut l'école au dix–huitième siècle pour tout ce que l'Europe eut de penseurs.’ See also Soulavie, Règne de Louis XVI, vol. iii. p. 161; Mém. de Marmontel, vol. iv. pp. 38, 39; Stäudlin, Gesch. der theolog. Wissenschaften, vol. ii. p. 291.
720.Hume, who was acquainted with several eminent Frenchmen who visited England, says (Philosophical Works, vol. iii. p. 8), ‘nothing is more apt to surprise a foreigner than the extreme liberty which we enjoy in this country, of communicating whatever we please to the public, and of openly censuring every measure entered into by the king or his ministers.’
721.‘La nation anglaise est la seule de la terre qui soit parvenue à régler le pouvoir des rois en leur résistant.’ Lettre VIII sur les Anglais, in Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xxvi. p. 37.
722.‘Que j'aime la hardiesse anglaise! que j'aime les gens qui disent ce qu'ils pensent!’ Letter from Voltaire, in Correspond. de Dudeffand, vol. ii. p. 263. For other instances of his admiration of England, see Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xl. pp. 105–109; vol. li. pp. 137, 390; vol. liv. pp. 298, 392; vol. lvi. pp. 162, 163, 195, 196, 270; vol. lvii. p. 500; vol. lviii. pp. 128, 267; vol. lix. pp. 265, 361; vol. lx. p. 501; vol. lxi. pp. 43, 73, 129, 140, 474, 475; vol. lxii. pp. 343, 379, 392; vol. lxiii. pp. 128, 146, 190, 196, 226, 237, 415; vol. lxiv. pp. 36, 96, 269; vol. lxvi. pp. 93, 159; vol. lxvii. pp. 353, 484.
723.‘Ils veulent un roi, aux conditions, pour ainsi dire, de ne lui point obéir.’ Le Blanc, Lettres d'un François, vol. i. p. 210.
724.‘Il y a aussi une nation dans le monde qui a pour objet direct de sa constitution la liberté politique.’ Esprit des Lois, livre xi. chap. v. in Œuvres de Montesquieu, p. 264. Conversely De Staël (Consid. sur la Rév. vol. iii. p. 261), ‘la liberté politique est le moyen suprême.’
725.‘L'Angleterre est à présent le plus libre pays qui soit au monde, je n'en excepte aucune république.’ Notes sur l'Angleterre, in Œuvres de Montesquieu, p. 632.
726.‘Une nation où la république se cache sous la forme de la monarchie.’ Esprit des Lois, livre v. chap. xix. in Œuvres de Montesquieu, page 225; also quoted in Bancroft's American Revolution, vol. ii. p. 36.
727.Grosley's Tour to London, vol. i. pp. 16, 17.
728.Mably, Observ. sur l'Hist. de France, vol. ii. p. 185.
729.Helvétius de l'Esprit. vol. i. pp. 102, 199: ‘un pays où le peuple est respecté comme en Angleterre; … un pays où chaque citoyen a part au maniement des affaires générales, où tout homme d'esprit peut éclairer le public sur ses véritables intérêts.’
730.Mém. de Brissot, vol. ii. p. 25.
731.Condorcet, Vie de Voltaire, pp. 118, 119; Duvernet, Vie de Voltaire, pp. 30, 32; Longchamp et Wagnière, Mém. sur Voltaire, vol. i. p. 22.
732.Duvernet, Vie de Voltaire, pp. 46–48; Condorcet, Vie de Voltaire, pp. 125, 126. Compare vol. lvi. p. 162; Lepan, Vie de Voltaire, 1837, pp. 70, 71; and Biog. Univ. vol. xlix. p. 468. Duvernet, who, writing from materials supplied by Voltaire, had the best means of information, gives a specimen of the fine feeling of a French duke in the eighteenth century. He says, that, directly after Rohan had inflicted this public chastisement, ‘Voltaire rentre dans l'hôtel, demande au duc de Sully de regarder cet outrage fait à l'un de ses convives, comme fait à lui-même: il le sollicite de se joindre à lui pour en poursuivre la vengeance, et de venir chez un commissaire en certifier la déposition. Le duc de Sully se refuse à tout.
733.‘L'Histoire de Charles XII, dont on avait arrêté une première édition après l'avoir autorisée.’ Biog. Univ. vol. xlix. p. 470. Comp. Nichols's Lit. Anec. vol. i. p. 388.
734.Duvernet, Vie de Voltaire, pp. 63–65; Condorcet, Vie de Voltaire, pp. 138–140; Lepan, Vie de Voltaire, pp. 93, 381.
735.The indignation of Voltaire appears in many of his letters; and he often announced to his friends his intention of quitting for ever a country where he was liable to such treatment. See Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. liv. pp. 58, 335, 336, vol. lv. p. 229, vol. lvi. pp. 162, 163, 358, 447, 464, 465, vol. lvii. pp. 144, 145, 155, 156, vol. lviii. pp. 36, 222, 223, 516, 517, 519, 520, 525, 526, 563, vol. lix. pp. 107, 116, 188, 208.
736.Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. i. pp. 147, 315, vol. lvii. pp. 211, 215, 219, 247, 295; Villemain, Lit. au XVIIIe Siècle, vol. i. p. 14; Brougham's Men of Letters, vol. i. pp. 53, 60.
737.Grimm, Correspond. vol. i. pp. 90–95, vol. ii. p. 399; Biog. Univ. vol. xi. p. 316; Brougham's Men of Letters, vol. ii. p. 439.
738.Boucher de la Richarderie, Bibliothèque des Voyages, vol. iii. pp. 390–393, Paris, 1808: ‘La distribution en France de la traduction de ce voyage fut arrêtée pendant quelque temps par des ordres supérieurs du gouvernement… Il y a tout lieu de croire que les ministres de France crurent, ou feignirent de croire, que le passage en question pouvoit donner lieu à des applications sur le goût effréné de Louis XV pour la chasse, et inspirèrent aisément cette prévention à un prince très-sensible, comme on sait, aux censures les plus indirectes de sa passion pour ce genre d'amusement.’ See also the account of Imbert, the translator, in Biog. Univ. vol. xxi. p. 200.
739.Grimm, Correspond. vol. vi. pp. 161, 162; the crime being, ‘qu'un janséniste avait osé imprimer que Julien, apostat exécrable aux yeux d'un bon chrétien, n'était pourtant pas un homme sans quelques bonnes qualités à en juger mondainement.’
740.M. Bunsen (Egypt, vol. i. p. 14) refers to Fréret's ‘acute treatise on the Babylonian year;’ and Turgot, in his Etymologie, says (Œuvres de Turgot, vol. iii. p. 83), ‘l'illustre Fréret, un des savans qui ont su le mieux appliquer la philosophie à l'érudition.’
741.This was at the very outset of his career: ‘En 1715, l'homme qui devait illustrer l'érudition française au xviiie siècle, Fréret, était mis à la Bastille pour avoir avancé, dans un mémoire sur l'origine des Français, que les Francs ne formaient pas une nation à part, et que leurs premiers chefs avaient reçu de l'empire romain le titre de patrices.’ Villemain, Lit. au XVIIIe Siècle, vol. ii. p. 30: see also Nichols's Lit. Anec. vol. ii. p. 510.
742.He was imprisoned in the Bastille, for the first time, in 1725; then in 1743, in 1750, and finally in 1751. Biographie Universelle, vol. xxiv. p. 85.
743.In 1743, Voltaire writes: ‘On vient de mettre à la Bastille l'abbé Lenglet, pour avoir publié des mémoires déjà très-connus, qui servent de supplément à l'histoire de notre célèbre De Thou. L'infatigable et malheureux Lenglet rendait un signalé service aux bons citoyens, et aux amateurs des recherches historiques. Il méritait des récompenses; on l'emprisonne cruellement à l'âge de soixante-huit ans.’ Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. i. pp. 400, 401, vol. lviii. pp. 207, 208.
744.Musset Pathay, Vie de Rousseau, vol. i. pp. 68, 99, 296, 377, vol. ii. pp. 111, 385, 390; Mercier sur Rousseau, vol. i. p. 14, vol. ii. pp. 179, 314.
745.Grimm, Corresp. vol. ii. p. 349; Walpole's Letters, 1840, vol. iii. p. 418.
746.Lyell's Principles of Geology, pp. 39, 40; Mém. of Mallet du Pan, vol. i. p. 125.
747.Soulavie, Règne de Louis XVI, vol. ii. p. 214; Williams's Letters from France, vol. ii. p. 86, 3rd edit. 1796.
748.Mém. de Ségur, vol. i. p. 253; Mém. de Lafayette, vol. ii. p. 34 note; Lettres de Dudeffand à Walpole, vol. ii. p. 365. On Raynal's flight, compare a letter from Marseilles, written in 1786, and printed in Mem. and Correspond. of Sir J. E. Smith, vol. i. p. 194.
749.See the proceedings of the avocat-général, in Peignot, Livres condamnés, vol. i. pp. 230, 231; and in Soulavie, Règne de Louis XVI, vol. iii. pp. 93–97.
750.Quérard, France Lit. vol. v. p. 565.
751.Peignot, Livres condamnés, vol. i. pp. 241, 242.
752.Biog. Univ. vol. xxiv. p. 561; Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. lxix. pp. 374, 375; Lettres inédites de Voltaire, vol. ii. p. 528; Duvernet, Vie de Voltaire, pp. 202, 203. According to some of these authorities, parliament afterwards revoked this sentence; but there is no doubt that the sentence was passed, and De Sales imprisoned, if not banished.
753.Peignot, Livres condamnés, vol. i. pp. 314, 316.
754.Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. lxix. p. 204; Lettres de Dudeffand à Walpole, vol. iii. p. 260.
755.'Quatre mémoires … condamnés à être lacérés et brûlés par la main du bourreau.' Peignot, vol. i. p. 24.
756.Biog. Univ. vol. xxiii. p. 187.
757.Duvernet, Hist. de la Sorbonne, vol. i. p. vi.
758.‘Supprimée par arrêt du conseil’ in 1771, which was the year of its publication. Compare Cassagnac's Révolution, vol. i. p. 33; Biog. Univ. vol. xxiv. p. 634.
759.Quérard, France Lit. vol. iii. p. 337.
760.Biog. Univ. vol. x. p. 97.
761.Peignot, vol. i. p. 328.
762.ibid. vol. i. p. 289.
763.Biog. Univ. vol. vii. p. 227.
764.Lettres d'Aguesseau, vol. ii. pp. 320, 321.
765.Cassagnac, Causes de la Rév. vol. i. p. 32.
766.Biog. Univ. vol. iii. p. 375.
767.Quérard, vol. iii. p. 489.
768.Ibid. vol. vii. pp. 483, 484.
769.Ibid. vol. iii. p. 302.
770.Ibid. vol. iii. p. 261.
771.On the importance of this remarkable thesis, and on its prohibition, see Saint-Hilaire, Anomalies de l'Organisation, vol. i. p. 355.
772.Quérard, vol. iv. p. 255.
773.Biog. Univ. vol. xv. p. 203.
774.Ibid. vol. xxi. p. 391.
775.Ibid. vol. xlv. p. 462, vol. xlvii. p. 98.
776.Peignot, vol. i. pp. 90, 91, vol. ii. p. 164.
777.Ibid. vol. i. p. 170, vol. ii. p. 57.
778.Ibid. vol. ii. p. 214.
779.‘Il resta trois ans dans la cage; c'est un caveau creusé dans le roc, de huit pieds en carré, où le prisonnier ne reçoit le jour que par les crevasses des marches de l'église.’ Biog. Univ. vol. xi. p. 171.
780.Peignot, Livres condamnés, vol. i. pp. 14, 15.
Возрастное ограничение:
12+
Дата выхода на Литрес:
25 июня 2017
Объем:
910 стр. 1 иллюстрация
Правообладатель:
Public Domain

С этой книгой читают