Equality: this revolutionary idea was of course quite compatible with the theory of Progress, and was soon to be closely associated with it. But it is easy to understand that the two ideas should first have appeared in antagonism to each other. The advance of knowledge and the increase of man's power over nature had virtually profited only a minority. When Fontenelle or Voltaire vaunted the illumination of their age and glorified the modern revolution in scientific thought, they took account only of a small class of privileged people. Higher education, Voltaire observed, is not for cobblers or kitchenmaids; "on n'a jamais pretendu eclairer les cordonniers et les servantes." The theory of Progress had so far left the masses out of account. Rousseau contrasted the splendour of the French court, the luxury of the opulent, the enlightenment of those who had the opportunity of education, with the hard lot of the ignorant mass of peasants, whose toil paid for the luxury of many of the idle enlightened people who amused themselves at Paris. The horror of this contrast, which left Voltaire cold, was the poignant motive which inspired Rousseau, a man of the people, in constructing his new doctrine. The existing inequality seemed an injustice which rendered the self-complacency of the age revolting. If this is the result of progressive civilisation, what is progress worth? The next step is to declare that civilisation is the causa malorum and that what is named progress is really regress. But Rousseau found a way of circumventing pessimism. He asked himself, cannot equality be realised in an organised state, founded on natural right? The Social Contract was his answer, and there we can see the living idea of equality detaching itself from the dead theory of degradation. [Footnote: The consistency of the Social Contract with the Discourse on Inequality has been much debated. They deal with two distinct problems, and the Social Contract does not mark any change in the author's views. Though it was not published till 1762 he had been working at it since 1753.]

Arcadianism, which was thus only a side-issue for Rousseau, was the extreme expression of tendencies which appear in the speculations of other thinkers of the day. Morelly and Mably argued in favour of a reversion to simpler forms of life. They contemplated the foundation of socialistic communities by reviving institutions and practices which belonged to a past period of social evolution. Mably, inspired by Plato, thought it possible by legislation to construct a state of antique pattern. [Footnote: For Mably's political doctrines see Guerrier's monograph, L'Abbe de Mably (1886), where it is shown that among "the theories which determined in advance the course of the events of 1789" the Abbe's played a role which has not been duly recognised.] They ascribed evils of civilisation to inequality arising from the existence of private property, but Morelly rejected the view of the "bold sophist" Rousseau that science and art were to blame. He thought that aided by science and learning man might reach a state based on communism, resembling the state of nature but more perfect, and he planned an ideal constitution in his romance of the Floating Islands. [Footnote: Naufrage des isles flottantes ou Basiliade du celebre Pilpai (1753). It begins: "je chante le regne aimable de la Verite et de la Nature." Morelly's other work, Code de la Nature, appeared in 1755.] Different as these views were, they represent the idea of regress; they imply a condemnation of the tendencies of actual social development and recommend a return to simpler and more primitive conditions.

Even Diderot, though he had little sympathy with Utopian speculations, was attracted by the idea of the simplification of society, and met Rousseau so far as to declare that the happiest state was a mean between savage and civilised life.

"I am convinced," he wrote, "that the industry of man has gone too far and that if it had stopped long ago and if it were possible to simplify the results, we should not be the worse. I believe there is a limit in civilisation, a limit more conformable to the felicity of man in general and far less distant from the savage state than is imagined; but how to return to it, having left it, or how to remain in it, if we were there? I know not." [Footnote: Refutation de l'ouvrage d'Helvetius in OEuvres ii. p. 431. Elsewhere (p. 287) he argues that in a community without arts and industries there are fewer crimes than in a civilised state, but men are not so happy.]

His picture of the savages of Tahiti in the Supplement au voyage de Bougainville was not seriously meant, but it illustrates the fact that in certain moods he felt the fascination of Rousseau's Arcadia.

D'Holbach met all these theories by pointing out that human development, from the "state of nature" to social life and the ideas and commodities of civilisation, is itself natural, given the innate tendency of man to improve his lot. To return to the simpler life of the forests—or to any bygone stage—would be denaturer l'homme, it would be contrary to nature; and if he could do so, it would only be to recommence the career begun by his ancestors and pass again through the same successive phases of history. [Footnote: Syst. soc. i. 16, p. 190.]

There was, indeed, one question which caused some embarrassment to believers in Progress. The increase of wealth and luxury was evidently a salient feature in modern progressive states; and it was clear that there was an intimate connection between the growth of knowledge and the growth of commerce and industrial arts, and that the natural progress of these meant an ever-increasing accumulation of riches and the practice of more refined luxury. The question, therefore, whether luxury is injurious to the general happiness occupied the attention of the philosophers. [Footnote: D'Holbach, ib. iii. 7; Diderot, art. Luxe in the Encylopaedia; Helvetius, De l'esprit, i. 3.] If it is injurious, does it not follow that the forces on which admittedly Progress depends are leading in an undesirable direction? Should they be obstructed, or is it wiser to let things follow their natural tendency (laisser aller les choses suivant leur pente naturelle)? Voltaire accepted wealth with all its consequences. D'Holbach proved to his satisfaction that luxury always led to the ruin of nations. Diderot and Helvetius arrayed the arguments which could be urged on both sides. Perhaps the most reasonable contribution to the subject was an essay of Hume.

4.

It is obvious that Rousseau and all other theorists of Regress would be definitely refuted if it could be proved by an historical investigation that in no period in the past had man's lot been happier than in the present. Such an inquiry was undertaken by the Chevalier de Chastellux. His book On Public Felicity, or Considerations on the lot of Men in the various Epochs of History, appeared in 1772 and had a wide circulation. [Footnote: There was a new edition in 1776 with an important additional chapter.] It is a survey of the history of the western world and aims at proving the certainty of future Progress. It betrays the influence both of the Encyclopaedists and of the Economists. Chastellux is convinced that human nature can be indefinitely moulded by institutions; that enlightenment is a necessary condition of general happiness; that war and superstition, for which governments and priests are responsible, are the principal obstacles.

But he attempted to do what none of his masters had done, to test the question methodically from the data of history. Turgot, and Voltaire in his way, had traced the growth of civilisation; the originality of Chastellux lay in concentrating attention on the eudaemonic issue, in examining each historical period for the purpose of discovering whether people on the whole were happy and enviable. Has there ever been a time, he inquired, in which public felicity was greater than in our own, in which it would have been desirable to remain for ever, and to which it would now be desirable to return?