Some have attributed to Voltaire the serious design of overturning the three great bases of society, religion, morality, and civil government, but he had not the genius of a philosopher, and there is no system of philosophy in his works. That he had a design to amuse and influence his age, and to avenge himself on his enemies, is obvious enough. Envy and hatred employed against him the weapons of religion, hence he viewed it only as an instrument of persecution. His great powers of mind were continually directed by the opinions of the times, and the desire of popularity was his ruling motive. The character of his earlier writings shows that he did not bring into the world a very independent spirit; they display the lightness and frivolity of the time with the submission of a courtier for every kind of authority, but as his success increased everything encouraged him to imbue his works with that spirit which found so general a welcome. In vain the authority of the civil government endeavored to arrest the impulse which was gaining strength from day to day; in vain this director of the public mind was imprisoned and exiled; the farther he advanced in his career and the more audaciously he propagated his views on religion and government, the more he was rewarded with the renown which he sought. Monarchs became his friends and his flatterers; opposition only increased his energy, and made him often forget moderation and good taste.

3. FRENCH LITERATURE DURING THE REVOLUTION.—The names of Voltaire and Montesquieu eclipse all others in the first half of the eighteenth century, but the influence of Voltaire was by far the most immediate and extensive. After he had reached the zenith of his glory, about the middle of the century, there appeared in France a display of various talent, evoked by his example and trained by his instructions, yet boasting an independent existence. In the works of these men was consummated the literary revolution of which we have marked the beginnings, a revolution more striking than any other ever witnessed in the same space of time. It was no longer a few eminent men that surrendered themselves boldly to the skeptical philosophy which is the grand characteristic of the eighteenth century; writers of inferior note followed in the same path; the new opinions took entire possession of all literature and cooperated with the state of the morals and the government to bring about a fearful revolution. The whole strength of the literature of this age being directed towards the subversion of the national institutions and religion, formed a homogeneous body of science, literature, and the arts, and a compact phalanx of all writers under the common name of philosophers. Women had their share in the maintenance of this league; the salons of Mesdames du Deffand (1696-1780), Geoffrin (b. 1777), and De l'Espinasse (1732-1776) were its favorite resorts; but the great rendezvous was that of the Baron d'Holbach, whence its doctrines spread far and wide, blasting, like a malaria, whatever it met with on its way that had any connection with religion, morals, or venerable social customs. Besides Voltaire, who presided over this coterie, at least in spirit, the daily company included Diderot, an enthusiast by nature and a cynic and sophist by profession; D'Alembert, a genius of the first order in mathematics, though less distinguished in literature; the malicious Marmontel, the philosopher Helvétius, the Abbé Raynal, the furious enemy of all modern institutions; the would-be sentimentalist Grimm, and D'Holbach himself. Hume, Gibbon, Bolingbroke, and others were affiliated members. Their plan was to write a book which would in some sense supersede all others, itself forming a library containing the most recent discoveries in philosophy, and the best explanations and details on every topic, literary and scientific.

The project of this great enterprise of an Encyclopaedia as an immense vehicle for the development of the opinions of the philosophers, alarmed the government, and the parliament and the clergy pronounced its condemnation. The philosophy of Descartes and the eminent thinkers of the seventeenth century assumed the soul of man as the starting-point in the investigation of physical science. The men of the eighteenth century had become tired of following out the sublimities and abstractions of the Cartesians, and they took the opposite course; beginning from sensation, they did not stop short of the grossest materialism and positive atheism.

Such were the principles of the Encyclopaedia, more fully developed and explained in the writings of Condillac (1715-1780), the head of this school of philosophy. His first work, "On the Origin of Human Knowledge," contains the germ of all that he afterwards published. In his "Treatise on Sensation," he endeavored, but in vain, to derive the notion of duty from sensation, and expert as he was in logic, he could not conceal the great gulf which his theory left between these two terms. Few writers have enjoyed more success; he brought the science of thought within the reach of the vulgar by stripping it of everything elevated, and every one was surprised and delighted to find that philosophy was so easy a thing. Having determined not to establish morality on any innate principles of the soul, these philosophers founded it on the fact common to all animated nature, the feeling of self-interest. Already deism had rejected the evidence of a divine revelation. Now atheism raised a more audacious front, and proclaimed that all religious sentiment was but the reverie of a disordered mind. The works in which this opinion is most expressly announced, date from the period of the Encyclopaedia.

D'Alembert (1717-1773) is now chiefly known as the author of the preliminary discourse of the Encyclopaedia, which is ranked among the principal works of the age.

Diderot (1714-1784), had he devoted himself to any one sphere, instead of wandering about in the chaos of opinions which rose and perished around him, might have left a lasting reputation, and posterity, instead of merely repeating his name, would have spoken of his works. He may be regarded as a writer injurious at once to literature and to morals.

The most faithful disciple of the philosophy of this period was Helvétius (1715-1771), known chiefly by his work, "On the Mind," the object of which is to prove that physical sensibility is the origin of all our thoughts. Of all the writers who maintained this opinion, none have represented it in so gross a manner. His work was condemned by the Sorbonne, the pope, and the parliament; it was burned by the hand of the hangman, and the author was compelled to retract it.

Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) was a writer who marched under none of the recognized banners of the day. The Encyclopaedists had flattered themselves that they had tuned the opinion of all Europe to their philosophical strain, when suddenly they heard his discordant note. Without family, without friends, without home, wandering from place to place, from one condition in life to another, he conceived a species of revolt against society, and a feeling of bitterness against those civil organizations in which he could never find a suitable place. He combated the atheism of the Encyclopaedists, their materialism and contempt for moral virtue, for pure deism was his creed. He believed in a Supreme Being, a future state, and the excellence of virtue, but denying all revealed religion, he would have men advance in the paths of virtue, freely and proudly, from love of virtue itself, and not from any sense of duty or obligation. In the "Social Contract" he traced the principles of government and laws in the nature of man, and endeavored to show the end which they proposed to themselves by living in communities, and the best means of attaining this end.

The two most notable works of Rousseau are "Julie," or the "Nouvelle Héloïse," and "Emile." The former is a kind of romance, owing its interest mainly to development of character, and not to incident or plot. Emile embodies a system of education in which the author's thoughts are digested and arranged. He gives himself an imaginary pupil, the representative of that life of spontaneous development which was the writer's ideal. In this work there is an episode, the "Savoyard Vicar's Confession of Faith," which is a declaration of pure deism, leveled especially against the errors of Catholicism. It raised a perfect tempest against the author from every quarter. The council of Geneva caused his book to be burned by the executioner, and the parliament of Paris threatened him with imprisonment. Under these circumstances he wrote his "Confessions," which he believed would vindicate him before the world. The reader, who may expect to find this book abounding with at least as much virtue as a man may possess without Christian principle, will find in it not a single feature of greatness; it is a proclamation of disagreeable faults; and yet he would persuade us that he was virtuous, by giving the clearest proofs that he was not.

To the names of Montesquieu, Voltaire, and Rousseau, must be added that of Buffon (1707-1788), and we have the four writers of this age who left all their contemporaries far behind. Buffon having been appointed superintendent of the Jardin des Plantes, and having enriched this fine establishment, and gathered into it, from all parts of the world, various productions of nature, conceived the project of composing a natural history, which should embrace the whole immensity of being, animate and inanimate. He first laid down the theory of the earth, then treated the natural history of man, afterwards that of viviparous quadrupeds and birds. The first volumes of his work appeared in 1749; the most important of the supplementary matter which followed was the "Epochs of Nature." He gave incredible attention to his style, and is one of the most brilliant writers of the eighteenth century. No naturalist has ever equaled him in the magnificence of his theories, or the animation of his descriptions of the manners and habits of animals. It is said that he wrote the "Epochs of Nature" eleven times over. He not only recited his compositions aloud, in order to judge of the rhythm and cadence, but he made a point of being in full dress before he sat down to write, believing that the splendor of his habiliments impressed his language with that pomp and elegance which he so much admired, and which is his distinguishing characteristic. Buffon, while maintaining friendship with the celebrated men of his age, did not identify himself with the party of the encyclopaedists, or the sects into which they were divided. But he lived among men who deemed physical nature alone worthy of study, and the wits of the age who had succeeded in discovering how a Supreme Being might be dispensed with. Buffon evaded the subject entirely, and amid all his lofty soarings showed no disposition to rise to the Great First Cause. After his time, science lost its contemplative and poetical character, and acquired that of intelligent observation. It became a practical thing, and entered into close alliance with the arts. The arts and sciences, thus combined, became the glory of France, as literature had been in the preceding age.