History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3

by Henry Thomas Buckle

[947] On the supreme importance of method, see my defence of Bichat in the next chapter.

[948] How completely futile this was, as regards results, is evident from the fact, that a hundred years after he wrote, we, with all our increased knowledge, can affirm nothing positively respecting the direct action of climate, food, and soil, in modifying individual character; though it has, I trust, appeared in the second chapter of this Introduction, that something can be ascertained respecting their indirect action, that is, their action on individual minds through the medium of social and economical organisation.

[949] ‘Il a créé en 1750 la philosophie de l'histoire dans ses deux discours prononcés en Sorbonne.’ Cousin, Hist. de la Philosophie, I. série, vol. i. p. 147. There is a short notice of these striking productions in Condorcet, Vie de Turgot, pp. 11–16.

[950] Nothing can be better than his summary of this vast conception: ‘Tous les ages sont enchaînés par une suite de causes et d'effets qui lient l'état du monde à tous ceux qui l'ont précédé.’ Second Discours en Sorbonne, in Œuvres de Turgot, vol. ii. p. 52. Every thing Turgot wrote on history is a development of this pregnant sentence. That he understood the necessity of an historian being acquainted with physical science, and with the laws of the configuration of the earth, climate, soil, and the like, is evident in his fragment, La Géographie Politique, in Œuvres, vol. ii. pp. 166–208. It is no slight proof of his political sagacity, that in 1750 he distinctly foretold the freedom of the American colonies. Compare Œuvres de Turgot, vol. ii. p. 66, with Mém. sur Turgot, vol. i. p. 139.

[951] A confidence which is apparent in his economical as well as in his historical works. In 1811, Sir James Mackintosh writes, that Turgot ‘had more comprehensive views of the progress of society than any man since Bacon:’ Mem. of Mackintosh, vol. ii. p. 133; and see a similar remark by Dugald Stewart, in his Philos. of the Mind, vol. i. p. 246.

CHAPTER VII.

PROXIMATE CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AFTER THE MIDDLE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

In the last chapter but one, I have attempted to ascertain what those circumstances were which, almost immediately after the death of Louis XIV., prepared the way for the French Revolution. The result of the inquiry has been, that the French intellect was stimulated into activity by the examples and teachings of England; and that this stimulus caused, or at all events encouraged, a great breach between the government of France and its literature;—a breach the more remarkable, because during the reign of Louis XIV. the literature, notwithstanding its temporary brilliancy, had been invariably submissive, and had intimately allied itself with the government, which was always ready to reward its services. We have also seen that, this rupture having arisen between the governing classes and the intellectual classes, it followed, that the former, true to their ancient instincts, began to chastise that spirit of inquiry to which they were unaccustomed: hence those persecutions which, with hardly a single exception, were directed against every man of letters, and hence too those systematic attempts to reduce literature to a subserviency similar to that in which it had been held under Louis XIV. It has, moreover, appeared, that the great Frenchmen of the eighteenth century, though smarting from the injuries constantly inflicted on them by the government and the church, abstained from attacking the government, but directed all their hostility against the church. This apparent anomaly, of the religious institutions being assailed, and the political institutions being spared, has been shown to be a perfectly natural circumstance, arising out of the antecedents of the French nation; and an attempt has been made to explain what those antecedents were, and how they acted. In the present chapter, I purpose to complete this inquiry by examining the next great stage in the history of the French mind. It was needful that, before both church and state could fall, men should change the ground of their hostility, and should attack political abuses with the zeal they had hitherto reserved for religious ones. The question, therefore, now arises, as to the circumstances under which this change took place, and the period when it actually occurred.

The circumstances which accompanied this great change are, as we shall presently see, very complicated; and, as they have never yet been studied in connexion with each other, I shall, in the remaining part of this volume, examine them at considerable length. On this point it will, I think, be practicable to arrive at some precise and well-defined results respecting the history of the French Revolution. But the other point, namely, the time at which the change took place, is not only much more obscure, but by its nature will never admit of complete precision. This, however, is a deficiency it possesses in common with every other change in the history of man. The circumstances of each change may always be known, provided the evidence is ample and authentic. But no amount of evidence can enable us to fix the date of the change itself. That to which attention is usually drawn by the compilers of history is, not the change, but is merely the external result which follows the change. The real history of the human race is the history of tendencies which are perceived by the mind, and not of events which are discerned by the senses. It is on this account that no historical epoch will ever admit of that chronological precision familiar to antiquaries and genealogists. The death of a prince, the loss of a battle, and the change of a dynasty, are matters which fall entirely within the province of the senses; and the moment in which they happen can be recorded by the most ordinary observers. But those great intellectual revolutions upon which all other revolutions are based, cannot be measured by so simple a standard. To trace the movements of the human mind, it is necessary to contemplate it under several aspects, and then coördinate the results of what we have separately studied. By this means we arrive at certain general conclusions, which, like the ordinary estimate of averages, increase in value in proportion as we increase the number of instances from which they are collected. That this is a safe and available method, appears not only from the history of physical knowledge,[952] but also from the fact, that it is the basis of the empirical maxims by which all men of sound understanding are guided in those ordinary transactions of life to which the generalizations of science have not yet been applied. Indeed such maxims, which are highly valuable, and which in their aggregate form what is called common sense, are never collected with any thing like the precautions that the philosophic historian ought to feel himself bound to employ.