The mission of Voltaire and the Encyclopedists (as the editors of the Encyclopedia are called) was to disseminate knowledge and to destroy prejudice, especially in religion. Practical specific reforms were suggested by Montesquieu, Rousseau, Beccaria, and Adam Smith.
[Sidenote: Montesquieu]
Montesquieu (1689-1755), a French lawyer-nobleman, a student of natural science, and an admirer of Newton, was the foremost writer of the eighteenth century on the practice of government. In his Persian Letters, and more especially in The Spirit of the Laws (1748), he argued that government is a complicated matter and, to be successful, must be adapted to the peculiarities of a particular people. Theoretically he preferred a republic, and the Constitution of the United States consciously embodied many of his theories. Practically, he considered the government of Great Britain very admirable, and although it sheltered many abuses, as we shall presently see, [Footnote: See below, pp. 432 ff.] nevertheless he urged the French to pattern their political organization after it. Moderation was the motto of Montesquieu.
[Sidenote: Rousseau]
A more radical reformer was Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778). In his life Rousseau was everything he should not have been. He was a failure as footman, as servant, as tutor, as secretary, as music copier, as lace maker. He wandered in Turin, Paris, Vienna, London. His immorality was notorious,—he was not faithful in love, and his children were sent to a foundling asylum. He was poverty-stricken, dishonest, discontented, and, in his last years, demented.
Yet this man, who knew so little how to live his own life, exercised a wonderful influence over the lives of others. Sordid as was his career, the man himself was not without beautiful and generous impulses. He loved nature in an age when other men simply studied nature. He liked to look at the clear blue sky, or to admire the soft green fields and shapely trees, and he was not ashamed to confess it. The emotions had been forgotten while philosophers were praising the intellect: Rousseau reminded the eighteenth century that after all it may be as sane to enjoy a sunset as to solve a problem in algebra. Rousseau possessed the soul of a poet.
To him right feeling was as important as right thinking, and in this respect he quarreled with the rationalists who claimed that common sense alone was worth while. Rousseau was a Deist—at most he believed but vaguely in a "Being, whatever He may be, Who moves the universe and orders all things." But he detested the cold reasoning of philosophers who conceived of God as too much interested in watching the countless stars obey His eternal laws, to stoop to help puny mortals with their petty affairs. "0 great philosophers!" cried Rousseau, "How much God is obliged to you for your easy methods and for sparing Him work." And again Rousseau warns us to "flee from those [Voltaire and his like] who, under the pretense of explaining nature, sow desolating doctrines in the hearts of men, and whose apparent skepticism is a hundred times more … dogmatic" than the teachings of priests. Rousseau was not an orthodox Christian, nor a calmly rational Deist; he simply felt that "to love God above all things, and your neighbor as yourself, is the sum of the law."
This he reproached the philosophers with not doing. Rousseau had seen and felt the bitter suffering of the poor, and he had perceived the cynical indifference with which educated men often regarded it. Science and learning seemed to have made men only more selfish. Indeed, the ignorant peasant seemed to him humbler and more virtuous than the pompous pedant. In a passionate protest—his Discourse on Arts and Sciences (1749)—Rousseau denounced learning as the badge of selfishness and corruption, for it was used to gratify the pride and childish curiosity of the rich, rather than to right the wrongs of the poor.
In fact, it were better, he contended, that all men should be savages, than that a few of the most cunning, cruel, and greedy should make slaves of the rest. His love of nature, his contempt for the silly showiness and shallow hypocrisy of eighteenth-century society, made the idea a favorite one. He loved to dream of the times [Footnote: It must be confessed that here Rousseau was dreaming of times that probably never existed.] when men were all free and equal, when nobody claimed to own the land which God had made for all, when there were no wars to kill, no taxes to oppress, no philosophers to deceive the people.
In an essay inquiring What is the Origin of Inequality among Men (1753), Rousseau sought to show how vanity, greed, and selfishness had found lodgment in the hearts of these "simple savages," how the strongest had fenced off plots of land for themselves and forced the weak to acknowledge the right of private property. This, said Rousseau, was the real origin of inequality among men, of the tyranny of the strong over the weak; and this law of private property "for the profit of a few ambitious men, subjected thenceforth all the human race to labor, servitude, and misery."