Old and New Paris: Its History, Its People, and Its Places, v. 2

by H. Sutherland Edwards

In the eighth book of his “Confessions” Rousseau relates how a visit he made to the prisoner of Vincennes marked an epoch in his life. The Academy of Dijon had just proposed the following subject for a prize essay:—“Has the revival of Arts and Letters contributed to the purification of manners?” It was during his visits to Diderot in the Château that Rousseau claims not only to have conceived the idea of treating the question proposed, but also to have written the greatest part of the essay which was to cause such a sensation in the world. Diderot, however, gave a very different account of the matter to his friend Marmontel. “I was prisoner at Vincennes,” he said, “where Rousseau came to see me. He had made me his Aristarchus, as he himself declared. One day, when we were walking together, he told me that the Academy of Dijon had just proposed an interesting question, and that he wished to treat it. The question was ‘Has the revival of arts and letters contributed to the perfection of morals?’ ‘Which side shall you take?’ I said to him. ‘The affirmative,’ he replied. ‘That is the pons asinorum,’ I said. ‘All the mediocre people will take that view, and you can only support it by commonplace ideas; whereas the contrary side offers to philosophy and eloquence a new and fertile field.’ ‘You are right,’ he answered, after a moment’s reflection. ‘I will follow your advice.’” Diderot himself wrote on this very subject: “When the programme of the Academy of Dijon appeared he came to consult me as to which side he should take. ‘Take the side,’ I said to him, ‘that no one else will take.’”

It was, in any case, Rousseau who wrote the essay, author though Diderot may have been of its paradoxical character. As an example of the laxity, as well as the severity of the period, it may be mentioned that when Diderot had once been set free from the dungeon, he was allowed, in his more commodious place of residence, to receive not only his wife and friends, but also Mme. de Pinsieux, to whom he was still attached. One day, when she was[{245}] visiting him, he was struck by the brilliancy of her attire. She accounted for the elaborateness of her toilette by saying that she was going to an entertainment at Champigny. “Was she going alone?” he asked. “Quite alone.” “Your word of honour?” “I give it you.” Diderot did not quite believe in the lady’s assurances, and soon after her departure he climbed over the wall of the park, hurried to Champigny, and there saw Mme. de Pinsieux with some admirer. He went back, scaled the wall a second time, and became once more a captive, but with a heart set free. “He broke for ever,” says an indignant moralist, “with his unworthy mistress.”

STATUE OF DIDEROT, BOULEVARD ST.-GERMAIN, FACING THE RUE ST.-BENOIT.

Diderot remained three years at Vincennes. He quitted his prison in 1734, and now conceived the plan of the “Encyclopædia,” a magnificent literary and scientific monument, which alone would justify the reputation he enjoys. It occupied him, without absorbing the whole of his time, for more than thirty years; and there was certainly no other man who could have brought to the work such wide knowledge, such energy of style, and such prodigious application. He had undertaken the articles on historical, philosophical, and scientific subjects, while he was, at the same time, in association with D’Alembert, to go over the work of all the contributors. As regards many of the subjects Diderot had to study them as he went on; which his marvellous intuition enabled him to do with the best effect. “Diderot,” said Grimm, “has naturally the most encyclopædic head that ever existed.” “His genius, in its sphere of activity, includes everything,” said Voltaire. “He passes from the heights of metaphysics to the frame of a weaver, and thence to the drama.” “Centuries after the time of his existence,” wrote Rousseau, in his “Confessions,” when he had quarrelled with him, “this universal head will be looked upon as we now look upon the head of Plato or Aristotle.”

Apart from his legitimate work Diderot had to cope with opposition and persecution of all kinds. The Jesuits had proposed their co-operation for the theological articles of the “Encyclopædia,” and Diderot had refused their offer equally with a similar one made by the Jansenists. The work was forthwith denounced as irreligious; and with such contributors as[{246}] Diderot and Voltaire it could scarcely, indeed, have been otherwise, though it was not the direct object of the writers to make war upon Faith. Among the many celebrated authors who furnished articles to the “Encyclopædia” Rousseau may in particular be mentioned. But like most of the contributors he wrote only for a time, and chiefly on musical subjects. D’Alembert, Voltaire, Rousseau, all fell off; Rousseau because something had offended him, Voltaire to write his own philosophical dictionary, D’Alembert because he had grown tired of the work. “I am worn out with the vexations of all kinds brought upon us by this work,” wrote D’Alembert to Voltaire in 1758. At one time its publication was forbidden, when Catherine II. offered to continue it in Russia. The volumes were, curiously enough, thrown into the Bastille; which, since they could be taken out again, was at least better than burning them at the hands of the common hangman.

Catherine II. granted Diderot a handsome pension, and she at the same time purchased his library for a large sum. The empress went so far, indeed, as to send him the sum of 50,000 francs, being the annual pension paid in advance for fifty years. Touched by the bounty of Catherine, Diderot wished to thank the empress in person, and in the year 1773 he started for Russia. At the Hague he was met by the High Chamberlain, Narischkin, who, accompanying him to St. Petersburg, put him up at his own house. Diderot’s friend Grimm was already at St. Petersburg. He presented Diderot to the Empress Catherine, who received him in the most cordial manner. She would be glad to see him, she said, in her own apartments every day from three to five or six, and she took the greatest pleasure in his conversation. “I see him very often,” she wrote to Voltaire. “Our conversations are incessant. What an extraordinary head he has! As for his heart, would that all other men had one like it. I do not know whether they (Grimm and Diderot) are getting tired of St. Petersburg, but I know that I could talk to them all my life without fatigue.”

Catherine did her best to keep Diderot at St. Petersburg; but he wished to return to Paris, and though he had been invited to stay at Berlin by Frederick the Great, he passed through Prussia without visiting the capital. It has been before said that he had no sympathy for Frederick.

Soon after his return to Paris he was taken ill, and after a short malady died. The curé of Saint-Roch had come to see him, and Diderot received him in a very friendly manner. They talked on various moral and religious subjects, and as they agreed on many theological points, especially as to the efficacy of charity and good works, the curé ventured to suggest that if he would authorise the publication of these opinions, together with a retractation of his works, the effect would be excellent. But Diderot would do nothing of the kind. Neither would he confess. Nevertheless there was but little difficulty in connection with his funeral, which took place at Saint-Roch, where he was buried (July, 1784) in the Chapel of the Virgin. There his remains still lie.