History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3

by Henry Thomas Buckle

The real objection, therefore, to generalizations respecting the development of the intellect of a nation is, not that they want certainty, but that they lack precision. This is just the point at which the historian diverges from the annalist. That the English intellect, for example, is gradually becoming more democratic, or, as it is termed, more liberal, is as certain as that the crown of this country is worn by Queen Victoria. But though both these statements are equally certain, the latter statement is more precise. We can tell the very day on which the Queen ascended the throne; the moment of her death will be known with equal precision; and there can be no doubt that many other particulars respecting her will be minutely and accurately preserved. In tracing, however, the growth of English liberalism, all such exactness deserts us. We can point out the year in which the Reform Bill was passed; but who can point out the year in which the Reform Bill first became necessary? In the same way, that the Jews will be admitted into parliament, is as certain as that the Catholics have been admitted. Both these measures are the inevitable result of that increasing indifference to theological disputes, which must now be obvious to every man who does not wilfully shut his eyes. But while we know the hour in which the bill for Catholic emancipation received the assent of the crown, there is no one now living who can tell even the year in which similar justice will be granted to the Jews. Both events are equally certain, but both events are not equally precise.

This distinction between certainty and precision I have stated at some length, because it seems to be little understood,[953] and because it is intimately connected with the subject now before us. The fact of the French intellect having, during the eighteenth century, passed through two totally distinct epochs, can be proved by every description of evidence; but it is impossible to ascertain the precise time when one epoch succeeded the other. All that we can do is, to compare the different indications which the history of that age presents, and arrive at an approximation which may guide future inquirers. It would perhaps be more prudent to avoid making any particular statement; but as the employment of dates seems necessary to bring such matters clearly before the mind, I will, by way of provisional hypothesis, fix on the year 1750, as the period when those agitations of society which caused the French Revolution entered into their second and political stage.

That this was about the period when the great movement, hitherto directed against the church, began to be turned against the state, is an inference which many circumstances seem to warrant. We know on the best authority, that towards the year 1750, the French began their celebrated inquiries respecting political economy,[954] and that, in their attempt to raise it to a science, they were led to perceive the immense injury which the interference of government had produced on the material interests of the country.[955] Hence a conviction arose that, even in regard to the accumulation of wealth, the authority possessed by the rulers of France was mischievous, since it enabled them, under the notion of protecting commerce, to trouble the freedom of individual action, and to prevent trade from running into those profitable channels which traders are best able to select for themselves. Scarcely had a knowledge of this important truth been diffused, when its consequences were quickly seen in the national literature, and in the habits of national thought. The sudden increase in France of works relating to finance and to other questions of government, is, indeed, one of the most remarkable features of that age. With such rapidity did the movement spread, that we are told that, soon after 1755, the economists effected a schism between the nation and the government;[956] and Voltaire, writing in 1759, complains that the charms of lighter literature were entirely neglected amidst the general zeal for these new studies.[957] It is not necessary to follow the subsequent history of this great change; nor need I trace the influence exercised shortly before the Revolution by the later economists, and particularly by Turgot, the most eminent of their leaders.[958] It is enough to say, that within about twenty years after the movement was first clearly seen, the taste for economical and financial inquiries became so common, that it penetrated those parts of society where habits of thought are not very frequent; since we find that, even in fashionable life, the conversation no longer turned upon new poems and new plays, but upon political questions, and subjects immediately connected with them.[959] Indeed, when Necker, in 1781, published his celebrated Report on the Finances of France, the eagerness to obtain it was beyond all bounds; six thousand copies were sold the first day; and the demand still increasing, two presses were kept constantly at work in order to satisfy the universal curiosity.[960] And what makes the democratic tendency of all this the more obvious is, that Necker was at that time one of the servants of the crown; so that his work, looking at its general spirit, has been truly called an appeal to the people against the king by one of the ministers of the king himself.[961]

This evidence of the remarkable change which, in or about 1750, the French mind underwent, and which formed what I term the second epoch of the eighteenth century, might be easily strengthened by a wider survey of the literature of that time. Immediately after the middle of the century, Rousseau published those eloquent works, which exercised immense influence, and in which the rise of the new epoch is very observable; for this most powerful writer abstained from those attacks on Christianity,[962] which unhappily had been too frequent, and exerted himself almost exclusively against the civil and political abuses of the existing society.[963] To trace the effects which this wonderful, but in some instances misguided, man produced on the mind of his own and of the succeeding generation, would occupy too large a share of this Introduction; though the inquiry is full of interest, and is one which it were to be wished some competent historian would undertake.[964] Inasmuch, however, as the philosophy of Rousseau was itself only a single phase of a far larger movement, I shall at present pass over the individual, in order to consider the general spirit of an age in which he played a vast, but still a subsidiary part.

The formation of a new epoch in France, about the year 1750, may be further illustrated by three circumstances of considerable interest, all pointing in the same direction. The first circumstance is, that not a single great French writer attacked the political institutions of the country before the middle of the century; while, after that period, the attacks of the ablest men were incessant. The second circumstance is, that the only eminent Frenchmen who continued to assail the clergy, and yet refused to interfere in politics, were those who, like Voltaire, had already reached an advanced age, and had, therefore, drawn their ideas from the preceding generation, in which the church had been the sole object of hostility. The third circumstance, which is even more striking than the other two, is, that almost at the same moment there was seen a change in the policy of the government; since, singularly enough, the ministers of the crown displayed for the first time an open enmity against the church, just as the intellect of the country was preparing for its decisive onslaught on the government itself. Of these three propositions, the first two will probably be admitted by every student of French literature: at all events, if they are false, they are so exact and peremptory, that it will be easy to refute them by giving examples to the contrary. But the third proposition, being more general, is less susceptible of a negative, and will therefore require the support of that special evidence which I will now adduce.

The great French writers having by the middle of the eighteenth century succeeded in sapping the foundations of the church, it was natural that the government should step in and plunder an establishment which the course of events had weakened. This, which took place in France under Louis XV., was similar to what occurred in England under Henry VIII.; for in both cases a remarkable intellectual movement, directed against the clergy, preceded and facilitated the attacks made on them by the crown. It was in 1749 that the French government took the first decisive step against the church. And what proves the hitherto backward state of the country in such matters is, that this consisted of an edict against mortmain, a simple contrivance for weakening the ecclesiastical power, which we in England had adopted long before. Machault, who had recently been raised to the office of controller-general, has the glory of being the originator of this new policy. In August 1749,[965] he issued that celebrated edict which forbade the formation of any religious establishment without the consent of the crown, duly expressed in letters-patent, and registered in parliament; effective precautions, which, says the great historian of France, show that Machault ‘considered not only the increase, but even the existence of these ecclesiastical properties, as a mischief to the kingdom.’[966]

This was an extraordinary step on the part of the French government; but what followed showed that it was only the beginning of a much larger design.[967] Machault, so far from being discountenanced, was, the year after he had issued this edict, intrusted with the seals in addition to the controllership;[968] for, as Lacretelle observes, the court ‘thought the time had now come to tax the property of the clergy.’[969] During the forty years which elapsed between this period and the beginning of the Revolution, the same anti-ecclesiastical policy prevailed. Among the successors of Machault, the only three of much ability were Choiseul, Necker, and Turgot, all of whom were strenuous opponents of that spiritual body, which no minister would have assailed in the preceding generation. Not only these eminent statesmen, but even such inferior men as Calonne, Malesherbes, and Terray, looked on it as a stroke of policy to attack privileges which superstition had consecrated, and which the clergy had hitherto reserved, partly to extend their own influence, and partly to minister to those luxurious and profligate habits, which in the eighteenth century were a scandal to the ecclesiastical order.

While these measures were being adopted against the clergy, another important step was taken in precisely the same direction. Now it was that the government began to favour that great doctrine of religious liberty, the mere defence of which it had hitherto punished as a dangerous speculation. The connexion between the attacks on the clergy and the subsequent progress of toleration, may be illustrated, not only by the rapidity with which one event succeeded the other, but also by the fact, that both of them emanated from the same quarter. Machault, who was the author of the edict of mortmain, was also the first minister who showed a wish to protect the Protestants against the persecutions of the Catholic priesthood.[970] In this he only partly succeeded; but the impetus thus given soon became irresistible. In 1760, that is only nine years later, there was seen a marked change in the administration of the laws; and the edicts against heresy, though not yet repealed, were enforced with unprecedented mildness.[971] The movement quickly spread from the capital to the remoter parts of the kingdom; and we are assured that, after the year 1762, the reaction was felt even in those provinces, which, from their backward condition, had always been most remarkable for religious bigotry.[972] At the same time, as we shall presently see, a great schism arose in the church itself, which lessened the power of the clergy, by dividing them into two hostile parties. Of these factions, one made common cause with the state, still further aiding the overthrow of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. Indeed, the dissensions became so violent, that the last great blow dealt to spiritual ascendency by the government of Louis XVI. proceeded not from the hands of a layman, but from one of the leaders of the church; a man who, from his standing, would, under ordinary circumstances, have protected the interests which he now eagerly attacked. In 1787, only two years before the Revolution, Brienne, archbishop of Toulouse,[973] who was then minister, laid before the parliament of Paris a royal edict, by which the discouragement hitherto thrown upon heresy was suddenly removed. By this law, the Protestants were invested with all those civil rights which the Catholic clergy had long held out as the reward of adherence to their own opinions.[974] It was, therefore, natural that the more orthodox party should condemn, as an impious innovation,[975] a measure which, by placing the two sects, in some degree, on the same footing, seemed to sanction the progress of error; and which certainly deprived the French church of one of the chief attractions by which men had hitherto been induced to join her communion. Now, however, all these considerations were set at nought. Such was the prevailing temper, that the parliament, though then in a mood very refractory to the royal authority, did not hesitate to register the edict of the king; and this great measure became law; the dominant party being astonished, we are told, how any doubt could be entertained as to the wisdom of the principles on which it was based.[976]

These were omens of the coming storm; signs of the time, which those who run may read. Nor are there wanting other marks, by which the true complexion of that age may be clearly seen. In addition to what has been just related, the government, soon after the middle of the eighteenth century, inflicted a direct and fatal injury upon the spiritual authority. This consisted in the expulsion of the Jesuits; which is an event, important not only for its ultimate effects, but also as an evidence of the feelings of men, and of what could be peaceably accomplished by the government of him who was called ‘the most Christian king.’[977]

The Jesuits, for at least fifty years after their institution, rendered immense services to civilization, partly by tempering with a secular element the more superstitious views of their great predecessors, the Dominicans and Franciscans, and partly by organizing a system of education far superior to any yet seen in Europe. In no university could there be found a scheme of instruction so comprehensive as theirs; and certainly no where was displayed such skill in the management of youth, or such insight into the general operations of the human mind. It must, in justice, be added, that this illustrious society, notwithstanding its eager, and often unprincipled, ambition, was, during a considerable period, the steady friend of science, as well as of literature; and that it allowed to its members a freedom and a boldness of speculation which had never been permitted by any other monastic order.