The truth is, that what is most blamed in the great French writers, was the natural consequence of the development of their age. Never was there a more striking illustration of the social law already noticed, that, if government will allow religious scepticism to run its course, it will issue in great things, and will hasten the march of civilization; but that, if an attempt is made to put it down with a strong hand, it may, no doubt, be repressed for a time, but eventually will rise with such force as to endanger the foundation of society. In England, we adopted the first of these courses; in France, they adopted the second. In England, men were allowed to exercise their own judgment on the most sacred subjects; and, as soon as the diminution of their credulity had made them set bounds to the power of the clergy, toleration immediately followed, and the national prosperity has never been disturbed. In France, the authority of the clergy was increased by a superstitious king; faith usurped the place of reason, not a whisper of doubt was allowed to be heard, and the spirit of inquiry was stifled, until the country fell to the brink of ruin. If Louis XIV. had not interfered with the natural progress, France, like England, would have continued to advance. After his death, it was, indeed, too late to save the clergy, against whom all the intellect of the nation was soon arrayed. But the force of the storm might still have been broken, if the government of Louis XV. had conciliated what it was impossible to resist; and, instead of madly attempting to restrain opinions by laws, had altered the laws to suit the opinions. If the rulers of France, instead of exerting themselves to silence the national literature, had yielded to its suggestions, and had receded before the pressure of advancing knowledge, the fatal collision would have been avoided; because the passions which caused the collision would have been appeased. In such case, the church would have fallen somewhat earlier; but the state itself would have been saved. In such case, France would, in all probability, have secured her liberties, without increasing her crimes; and that great country, which, from her position and resources, ought to be the pattern of European civilization, might have escaped the ordeal of those terrible atrocities, through which she was compelled to pass, and from the effects of which she has not yet recovered.
It must, I think, be admitted that, during, at all events, the first half of the reign of Louis XV., it was possible, by timely concessions, still to preserve the political institutions of France. Reforms there must have been; and reforms too of a large and uncompromising character. So far, however, as I am able to understand the real history of that period, I make no doubt that, if these had been granted in a frank and ungrudging spirit, everything could have been retained necessary for the only two objects at which government ought to aim, namely, the preservation of order, and the prevention of crime. But, by the middle of the reign of Louis XV., or, at all events, immediately afterwards, the state of affairs began to alter; and, in the course of a few years, the spirit of France became so democratic, that it was impossible even to delay a revolution, which, in the preceding generation, might have been altogether averted. This remarkable change is connected with that other change already noticed, by virtue of which, the French intellect began, about the same period, to direct its hostility against the state, rather than, as heretofore, against the church. As soon as this, which may be called the second epoch of the eighteenth century, had been fairly entered, the movement became irresistible. Event after event followed each other in rapid succession; each one linked to its antecedent, and the whole forming a tendency impossible to withstand. It was in vain that the government, yielding some points of real importance, adopted measures by which the church was controlled, the power of the clergy diminished, and even the order of the jesuits suppressed. It was in vain that the crown now called to its councils, for the first time, men imbued with the spirit of reform; men, like Turgot and Necker, whose wise and liberal proposals would, in calmer days, have stilled the agitation of the popular mind. It was in vain that promises were made to equalize the taxes, to redress some of the most crying grievances, to repeal some of the most obnoxious laws. It was even in vain that the states-general were summoned; and that thus, after the lapse of a hundred and seventy years, the people were again admitted to take part in the management of their own affairs. All these things were in vain; because the time for treaty had gone by, and the time for battle had come. The most liberal concessions that could possibly have been devised would have failed to avert that deadly struggle, which the course of preceding events made inevitable. For the measure of that age was now full. The upper classes, intoxicated by the long possession of power, had provoked the crisis; and it was needful that they should abide the issue. There was no time for mercy; there was no pause, no compassion, no sympathy. The only question that remained was, to see whether they who had raised the storm could ride the whirlwind; or, whether it was not rather likely that they should be the first victims of that frightful hurricane, in which, for a moment, laws, religion, morals, all perished, the lowest vestiges of humanity were effaced, and the civilization of France not only submerged, but, as it then appeared, irretrievably ruined.
To ascertain the successive changes of this, the second epoch of the eighteenth century, is an undertaking full of difficulty; not only on account of the rapidity with which the events occurred, but also on account of their extreme complication, and of the way in which they acted and reacted upon each other. The materials, however, for such an inquiry are very numerous; and, as they consist of evidence supplied by all classes and all interests, it has appeared to me possible to reconstruct the history of that time, according to the only manner in which history deserves to be studied; that is to say, according to the order of its social and intellectual development. In the seventh chapter of the present volume, I shall, therefore, attempt to trace the antecedents of the French Revolution during that remarkable period, in which the hostility of men, slackening in regard to the abuses of the church, was, for the first time, turned against the abuses of the state. But, before entering into this, which may be distinguished as the political epoch of the eighteenth century, it will be necessary, according to the plan which I have sketched, to examine the changes that occurred in the method of writing history, and to indicate the way in which those changes were affected by the tendencies of the earlier, or, as it may be termed, the ecclesiastical epoch. In this manner, we shall the more easily understand the activity of that prodigious movement which led to the French Revolution; because we shall see that it not only affected the opinions of men in regard to what was passing under their eyes, but that it also biased their speculative views in regard to the events of preceding ages; and thus gave rise to that new school of historical literature, the formation of which is by no means the least of the many benefits which we owe to the great thinkers of the eighteenth century.
Footnotes:
[518] ‘L'annonce de la mort du grand roi ne produisit chez le peuple français qu'une explosion de joie.’ Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xxvii. p. 220. ‘Le jour des obsèques de Louis XIV, on établit des guinguettes sur le chemin de Saint-Denis. Voltaire, que la curiosité avoit mené aux funérailles du souverain, vit dans ces guinguettes le peuple ivre de vin et de joie de la mort de Louis XIV.’ Duvernet, Vie de Voltaire, p. 29: see also Condorcet, Vie de Voltaire, p. 118; De Tocqueville, Règne de Louis XV, vol. i. p. 18; Duclos, Mémoires, vol. i. p. 221; Lemontey, Etablissement de Louis XIV, pp. 311, 388.
[519] ‘Kaum hatte er aber die Augen geschlossen, als alles umschlug. Der reprimirte Geist warf sich in eine zügellose Bewegung.’ Ranke, die Päpste, vol. iii. p. 192.
[520] The shock which these events gave to the delicacy of the French mind was very serious. The learned Saumaise declared that the English are ‘more savage than their own mastiffs.’ Carlyle's Cromwell, vol. i. p. 444. Another writer said that we were ‘barbares révoltés;’ and ‘les barbares sujets du roi.’ Mém. de Motteville, vol. ii. pp. 105, 362. Patin likened us to the Turks; and said, that having executed one king, we should probably hang the next. Lettres de Patin, vol. i. p. 261, vol. ii. p. 518, vol. iii. p. 148. Compare Mém. de Campion, p. 213. After we had sent away James II., the indignation of the French rose still higher, and even the amiable Madame Sévigné, having occasion to mention Mary the wife of William III., could find no better name for her than Tullia: ‘la joie est universelle de la déroute de ce prince, dont la femme est une Tullie.’ Lettres de Sévigné, vol. v. p. 179. Another influential French lady mentions ‘la férocité des anglais.’ Lettres inédites de Maintenon, vol. i. p. 303; and elsewhere (p. 109), ‘je hais les anglais comme le peuple…. Véritablement je ne les puis souffrir.’
I will only give two more illustrations of the wide diffusion of such feelings. In 1679, an attempt was made to bring bark into discredit as a ‘remède anglais’ (Sprengel, Hist. de la Médecine, vol. v. p. 430): and at the end of the seventeenth century, one of the arguments in Paris against coffee was that the English liked it. Monteil, Divers Etats, vol. vii. p. 216.
[521] ‘Au temps de Boileau, personne en France n'apprenait l'anglais.’ Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xxxviii. p. 337, and see vol. xix. p. 159. ‘Parmi nos grands écrivains du xviie siècle, il n'en est aucun, je crois, ou l'on puisse reconnaître un souvenir, une impression de l'esprit anglais.’ Villemain, Lit. au XVIIIe Siècle, vol. iii. p. 324. Compare Barante, XVIIIe Siècle, p. 47, and Grimm, Correspond. vol. v. p. 135, vol. xvii. p. 2.
The French, during the reign of Louis XIV., principally knew us from the accounts given by two of their countrymen, Monconys and Sorbière; both of whom published their travels in England, but neither of whom were acquainted with the English language. For proof of this, see Monconys, Voyages, vol. iii. pp. 34, 69, 70, 96; and Sorbière, Voyage, pp. 45, 70.