READINGS a to C Rousseau, Montesquieu Robes Pierre) (2)

8/3/2019 READINGS a to C Rousseau, Montesquieu Robes Pierre) (2)

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READING A: JEAN-JACQUES ROUSSEAU, “A DISCOURSE ON THE MORAL

EFFECTS OF THE ARTS AND SCIENCES.”

A DISCOURSE ON THE MORAL EFFECTS OF THE ARTS AND SCIENCES

Decipimur specie recti. —Horace.

The question before me is, “Whether the Restoration of the arts and sciences has had the

effect of purifying or corrupting morals.” Which side am I to take? That, gentlemen,

hich becomes an honest man, ho is sensible of his on ignorance, and thinks himselfnone the orse for it.

I feel the difficulty of treating this sub!ect fittingly, before the tribunal hich is to !udge

of hat I ad"ance. #o can I presume to belittle the sciences before one of the most

learned assemblies in $urope, to commend ignorance in a famous %cademy, andreconcile my contempt for study ith the respect due to the truly learned?

I as aare of these inconsistencies, but not discouraged by them. It is not science, I said

to myself, that I am attacking& it is "irtue that I am defending, and that before "irtuous

men'and goodness is e"en dearer to the good than learning to the learned.

What then ha"e I to fear? The sagacity of the assembly before hich I am pleading?That, I acknoledge, is to be feared& but rather on account of faults of construction than

of the "ies I hold. (ust so"ereigns ha"e ne"er hesitated to decide against themsel"es in

doubtful cases& and indeed the most ad"antageous situation in hich a !ust claim can be,

is that of being laid before a !ust and enlightened arbitrator, ho is !udge in his on case.

To this moti"e, hich encouraged me, I may add another hich finally decided me. %nd

this is, that as I ha"e upheld the cause of truth to the best of my natural abilities, hate"er

my apparent success, there is one reard hich cannot fail me. That reard I shall find inthe bottom of my heart.

THE FIRST ART

It is a noble and beautiful spectacle to see man raising himself, so to speak, from nothing

by his on e)ertions& dissipating, by the light of reason, all the thick clouds in hich he

as by nature en"eloped& mounting abo"e himself& soaring in thought e"en to thecelestial regions& like the sun, encompassing ith giant strides the "ast e)tent of the

uni"erse& and, hat is still grander and more onderful, going back into himself, there to

study man and get to kno his on nature, his duties and his end. %ll these miracles eha"e seen reneed ithin the last fe generations.

$urope had relapsed into the barbarism of the earliest ages& the inhabitants of this part of

the orld, hich is at present so highly enlightened, ere plunged, some centuries ago, in

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a state still orse than ignorance. % scientific !argon, more despicable than mere

ignorance, had usurped the name of knoledge, and opposed an almost in"incible

obstacle to its restoration.

Things had come to such a pass, that it required a complete re"olution to bring men backto common sense. This came at last from the quarter from hich it as least to be

e)pected. It as the stupid +ussulman, the eternal scourge of letters, ho as the

immediate cause of their re"i"al among us. The fall of the throne of onstantine broughtto Italy the relics of ancient -reece& and ith these precious spoils rance in turn as

enriched. The sciences soon folloed literature, and the art of thinking !oined that of

riting/ an order hich may seem strange, but is perhaps only too natural. The orldno began to percei"e the principal ad"antage of an intercourse ith the +uses, that of

rendering mankind more sociable by inspiring them ith the desire to please one another

ith performances orthy of their mutual approbation.

The mind, as ell as the body, has its needs/ those of the body are the basis of society,those of the mind its ornaments.

0o long as go"ernment and la pro"ide for the security and ell1being of men in their

common life, the arts, literature and the sciences, less despotic though perhaps more

poerful, fling garlands of floers o"er the chains hich eigh them don. They stiflein men2s breasts that sense of original liberty, for hich they seem to ha"e been born&

cause them to lo"e their on sla"ery, and so make of them hat is called a ci"ilised

people.

3ecessity raised up thrones& the arts and sciences ha"e made them strong. 4oers of the

earth, cherish all talents and protect those ho culti"ate them.* i"ilised peoples,culti"ate such pursuits/ to them, happy sla"es, you oe that delicacy and e)quisiteness of

taste, hich is so much your boast, that seetness of disposition and urbanity of mannershich make intercourse so easy and agreeable among you'in a ord, the appearance of

all the "irtues, ithout being in possession of one of them.

It as for this sort of accomplishment, hich is by so much the more capti"ating as it

seems less affected, that %thens and Rome ere so much distinguished in the boastedtimes of their splendour and magnificence/ and it is doubtless in the same respect that our

on age and nation ill e)cel all periods and peoples. %n air of philosophy ithout

pedantry& an address at once natural and engaging, distant equally from Teutonic

clumsiness and Italian pantomime& these are the effects of a taste acquired by liberalstudies and impro"ed by con"ersation ith the orld. What happiness ould it be for

those ho li"e among us, if our e)ternal appearance ere alays a true mirror of our

hearts& if decorum ere but "irtue& if the ma)ims e professed ere the rules of ourconduct& and if real philosophy ere inseparable from the title of a philosopher5 6ut so

many good qualities too seldom go together& "irtue rarely appears in so much pomp and

state.

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Richness of apparel may proclaim the man of fortune, and elegance the man of taste& but

true health and manliness are knon by different signs. It is under the homespun of the

labourer, and not beneath the gilt and tinsel of the courtier, that e should look forstrength and "igour of body.

$)ternal ornaments are no less foreign to "irtue, hich is the strength and acti"ity of the

mind. The honest man is an athlete, ho lo"es to restle stark naked& he scorns all those

"ile trappings, hich pre"ent the e)ertion of his strength, and ere, for the most part,in"ented only to conceal some deformity.

6efore art had moulded our beha"iour, and taught our passions to speak an artificial

language, our morals ere rude but natural& and the different ays in hich e beha"ed

proclaimed at the first glance the difference of our dispositions. #uman nature as not at bottom better then than no& but men found their security in the ease ith hich they

could see through one another, and this ad"antage, of hich e no longer feel the "alue,

pre"ented their ha"ing many "ices.

In our day, no that more subtle study and a more refined taste ha"e reduced the art of pleasing to a system, there pre"ails in modern manners a ser"ile and decepti"e

conformity& so that one ould think e"ery mind had been cast in the same mould.

4oliteness requires this thing& decorum that& ceremony has its forms, and fashion its las,and these e must alays follo, ne"er the promptings of our on nature.

We no longer dare seem hat e really are, but lie under a perpetual restraint& in the

meantime the herd of men, hich e call society, all act under the same circumstances

e)actly alike, unless "ery particular and poerful moti"es pre"ent them. Thus e ne"er

kno ith hom e ha"e to deal& and e"en to kno our friends e must ait for somecritical and pressing occasion& that is, till it is too late& for it is on those "ery occasions

that such knoledge is of use to us.

What a train of "ices must attend this uncertainty5 0incere friendship, real esteem, and perfect confidence are banished from among men. (ealousy, suspicion, fear, coldness,

reser"e, hate and fraud lie constantly concealed under that uniform and deceitful "eil of

politeness& that boasted candour and urbanity, for hich e are indebted to the light andleading of this age. We shall no longer take in "ain by our oaths the name of our reator&

but e shall insult #im ith our blasphemies, and our scrupulous ears ill take no

offence. We ha"e gron too modest to brag of our on deserts& but e do not scruple to

decry those of others. We do not grossly outrage e"en our enemies, but artfullycalumniate them. 8ur hatred of other nations diminishes, but patriotism dies ith it.

Ignorance is held in contempt& but a dangerous scepticism has succeeded it. 0ome "ices

indeed are condemned and others gron dishonourable& but e ha"e still many that arehonoured ith the names of "irtues, and it is become necessary that e should either

ha"e, or at least pretend to ha"e them. 9et ho ill e)tol the moderation of our modern

sages, I see nothing in it but a refinement of intemperance as unorthy of mycommendation as their artificial simplicity.*

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0uch is the purity to hich our morals ha"e attained& this is the "irtue e ha"e made our

on. 9et the arts and sciences claim the share they ha"e had in this salutary ork. I shall

add but one reflection more& suppose an inhabitant of some distant country shouldendea"our to form an idea of $uropean morals from the state of the sciences, the

perfection of the arts, the propriety of our public entertainments, the politeness of our beha"iour, the affability of our con"ersation, our constant professions of bene"olence,

and from those tumultuous assemblies of people of all ranks, ho seem, from morningtill night, to ha"e no other care than to oblige one another. 0uch a stranger, I maintain,

ould arri"e at a totally false "ie of our morality.

Where there is no effect, it is idle to look for a cause/ but here the effect is certain and thedepra"ity actual& our minds ha"e been corrupted in proportion as the arts and sciences

ha"e impro"ed. Will it be said, that this is a misfortune peculiar to the present age? 3o,

gentlemen, the e"ils resulting from our "ain curiosity are as old as the orld. The daily

ebb and flo of the tides are not more regularly influenced by the moon, than the morals

of a people by the progress of the arts and sciences. %s their light has risen abo"e ourhori;on, "irtue has taken flight, and the same phenomenon has been constantly obser"ed

in all times and places.

Take $gypt, the first school of mankind, that ancient country, famous for its fertilityunder a bra;en sky& the spot from hich 0esostris once set out to conquer the orld.

$gypt became the mother of philosophy and the fine arts& soon she as conquered by

ambyses, and then successi"ely by the -reeks, the Romans, the %rabs, and finally theTurks.

Take -reece, once peopled by heroes, ho tice "anquished %sia. 9etters, as yet in their

infancy, had not corrupted the disposition of its inhabitants& but the progress of thesciences soon produced a dissoluteness of manners, and the imposition of the+acedonian yoke/ from hich time -reece, alays learned, alays "oluptuous and

alays a sla"e, has e)perienced amid all its re"olutions no more than a change of

masters. 3ot all the eloquence of <emosthenes could breathe life into a body hichlu)ury and the arts had once ener"ated.

It as not till the days of $nnius and Terence that Rome, founded by a shepherd, and

made illustrious by peasants, began to degenerate. 6ut after the appearance of an 8"id, a

atullus, a +artial, and the rest of those numerous obscene authors, hose "ery namesare enough to put modesty to the blush, Rome, once the shrine of "irtue, became the

theatre of "ice, a scorn among the nations, and an ob!ect of derision e"en to barbarians.

Thus the capital of the orld at length submitted to the yoke of sla"ery it had imposed onothers, and the "ery day of its fall as the e"e of that on hich it conferred on one of its

citi;ens the title of %rbiter of -ood Taste.

What shall I say of that metropolis of the $astern $mpire, hich, by its situation, seemed

destined to be the capital of the orld& that refuge of the arts and sciences, hen theyere banished from the rest of $urope, more perhaps by isdom than barbarism? The

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most profligate debaucheries, the most abandoned "illainies, the most atrocious crimes,

plots, murders and assassinations form the arp and oof of the history of

onstantinople. 0uch is the pure source from hich ha"e floed to us the floods ofknoledge on hich the present age so prides itself.

6ut herefore should e seek, in past ages, for proofs of a truth, of hich the present

affords us ample e"idence? There is in %sia a "ast empire, here learning is held in

honour, and leads to the highest dignities in the state. If the sciences impro"ed ourmorals, if they inspired us ith courage and taught us to lay don our li"es for the good

of our country, the hinese should be ise, free and in"incible. 6ut, if there be no "ice

they do not practise, no crime ith hich they are not familiar& if the sagacity of theirministers, the supposed isdom of their las, and the multitude of inhabitants ho

people that "ast empire, ha"e alike failed to preser"e them from the yoke of the rude and

ignorant Tartars, of hat use ere their men of science and literature? What ad"antage

has that country reaped from the honours bestoed on its learned men? an it be that of

being peopled by a race of scoundrels and sla"es?

ontrast ith these instances the morals of those fe nations hich, being preser"ed

from the contagion of useless knoledge, ha"e by their "irtues become happy in

themsel"es and afforded an e)ample to the rest of the orld. 0uch ere the firstinhabitants of 4ersia, a nation so singular that "irtue as taught among them in the same

manner as the sciences are ith us. They "ery easily subdued %sia, and possess the

e)clusi"e glory of ha"ing had the history of their political institutions regarded as a philosophical romance. 0uch ere the 0cythians, of hom such onderful eulogies ha"e

come don to us. 0uch ere the -ermans, hose simplicity, innocence and "irtue,

afforded a most delightful contrast to the pen of an historian, eary of describing the

baseness and "illainies of an enlightened, opulent and "oluptuous nation. 0uch had beene"en Rome in the days of its po"erty and ignorance. %nd such has shon itself to be,

e"en in our on times, that rustic nation, hose !ustly renoned courage not e"enad"ersity could conquer, and hose fidelity no e)ample could corrupt.*

It is not through stupidity that the people ha"e preferred other acti"ities to those of the

mind. They ere not ignorant that in other countries there ere men ho spent their time

in disputing idly about the so"ereign good, and about "ice and "irtue. They kne thatthese useless thinkers ere la"ish in their on praises, and stigmatised other nations

contemptuously as barbarians. 6ut they noted the morals of these people, and so learnt

hat to think of their learning.*

an it be forgotten that, in the "ery heart of -reece, there arose a city as famous for thehappy ignorance of its inhabitants, as for the isdom of its las& a republic of demi1gods

rather than of men, so greatly superior their "irtues seemed to those of mere humanity?

0parta, eternal proof of the "anity of science, hile the "ices, under the conduct of thefine arts, ere being introduced into %thens, e"en hile its tyrant as carefully

collecting together the orks of the prince of poets, as dri"ing from her alls artists and

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the arts, the learned and their learning5

The difference as seen in the outcome. %thens became the seat of politeness and taste,

the country of orators and philosophers. The elegance of its buildings equalled that of its

language& on e"ery side might be seen marble and can"as, animated by the hands of themost skilful artists. rom %thens e deri"e those astonishing performances, hich ill

ser"e as models to e"ery corrupt age. The picture of 9acedmon is not so highly

coloured. There, the neighbouring nations used to say, “men ere born "irtuous, theirnati"e air seeming to inspire them ith "irtue.” 6ut its inhabitants ha"e left us nothing

but the memory of their heroic actions/ monuments that should not count for less in our

eyes than the most curious relics of %thenian marble.

It is true that, among the %thenians, there ere some fe ise men ho ithstood thegeneral torrent, and preser"ed their integrity e"en in the company of the muses. 6ut hear

the !udgment hich the principal, and most unhappy of them, passed on the artists and

learned men of his day.

“I ha"e considered the poets,” says he, “and I look upon them as people hose talentsimpose both on themsel"es and on others& they gi"e themsel"es out for ise men, and are

taken for such& but in reality they are anything sooner than that.”

“rom the poets,” continues 0ocrates, “I turned to the artists. 3obody as more ignorant

of the arts than myself& nobody as more fully persuaded that the artists ere possessedof ama;ing knoledge. I soon disco"ered, hoe"er, that they ere in as bad a ay as the

poets, and that both had fallen into the same misconception. 6ecause the most skilful of

them e)cel others in their particular !obs, they think themsel"es iser than all the rest of

mankind. This arrogance spoilt all their skill in my eyes, so that, putting myself in the place of the oracle, and asking myself hether I ould rather be hat I am or hat they

are, kno hat they kno, or kno that I kno nothing, I "ery readily ansered, formyself and the god, that I had rather remain as I am.

“3one of us, neither the sophists, nor the poets, nor the orators, nor the artists, nor I,

kno hat is the nature of the true, the good, or the beautiful. 6ut there is this difference

beteen us& that, though none of these people kno anything, they all think they knosomething& hereas for my part, if I kno nothing, I am at least in no doubt of my

ignorance. 0o the superiority of isdom, imputed to me by the oracle, is reduced merely

to my being fully con"inced that I am ignorant of hat I do not kno.”

Thus e find 0ocrates, the isest of men in the !udgment of the god, and the mostlearned of all the %thenians in the opinion of all -reece, speaking in praise of ignorance.

Were he ali"e no, there is little reason to think that our modern scholars and artists

ould induce him to change his mind. 3o, gentlemen, that honest man ould still persistin despising our "ain sciences. #e ould lend no aid to sell the flood of books that

flos from e"ery quarter/ he ould lea"e to us, as he did to his disciples, only the

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e)ample and memory of his "irtues& that is the noblest method of instructing mankind.

0ocrates had begun at %thens, and the elder ato proceeded at Rome, to in"eigh against

those seducti"e and subtle -reeks, ho corrupted the "irtue and destroyed the courage of

their fello1citi;ens/ culture, hoe"er, pre"ailed. Rome as filled ith philosophers andorators, military discipline as neglected, agriculture as held in contempt, men formed

sects, and forgot their country. To the sacred names of liberty, disinterestedness and

obedience to la, succeeded those of $picurus, Aeno and %rcesilaus. It as e"en a sayingamong their on philosophers that since learned men appeared among them, honest men

had been in eclipse. 6efore that time the Romans ere satisfied ith the practice of

"irtue& they ere undone hen they began to study it.

What ould the great soul of abricius ha"e felt, if it had been his misfortune to be called back to life, hen he sa the pomp and magnificence of that Rome, hich his arm had

sa"ed from ruin, and his honourable name made more illustrious than all its conquests.

“Be gods5” he ould ha"e said, “hat has become of those thatched roofs and rustichearths, hich ere formerly the habitations of temperance and "irtue? What fatal

splendour has succeeded the ancient Roman simplicity? What is this foreign language,

this effeminacy of manners? What is the meaning of these statues, paintings and

buildings? ools, hat ha"e you done? Bou, the lords of the earth, ha"e made yoursel"esthe sla"es of the fri"olous nations you ha"e subdued. Bou are go"erned by rhetoricians,

and it has been only to enrich architects, painters, sculptors and stage1players that you

ha"e atered -reece and %sia ith your blood. $"en the spoils of arthage are the pri;eof a flute1player. Romans5 Romans5 make haste to demolish those amphitheatres, break

to pieces those statues, burn those paintings& dri"e from among you those sla"es ho

keep you in sub!ection, and hose fatal arts are corrupting your morals. 9et other hands

make themsel"es illustrious by such "ain talents& the only talent orthy of Rome is thatof conquering the orld and making "irtue its ruler. When yneas took the Roman senate

for an assembly of kings, he as not struck by either useless pomp or studied elegance.#e heard there none of that futile eloquence, hich is no the study and the charm of

fri"olous orators. What then as the ma!esty that yneas beheld? ello citi;ens, he sa

the noblest sight that e"er e)isted under hea"en, a sight hich not all your riches or your

arts can sho& an assembly of to hundred "irtuous men, orthy to command in Rome,and to go"ern the orld.”

6ut let pass the distance of time and place, and let us see hat has happened in our on

time and country& or rather let us banish odious descriptions that might offend our

delicacy, and spare oursel"es the pains of repeating the same things under differentnames. It as not for nothing that I in"oked the +anes of abricius& for hat ha"e I put

into his mouth, that might not ha"e come ith as much propriety from 9ouis the Telfth

or #enry the ourth? It is true that in rance 0ocrates ould not ha"e drunk the hemlock, but he ould ha"e drunk of a potion infinitely more bitter, of insult, mockery and

contempt a hundred times orse than death.

Thus it is that lu)ury, profligacy and sla"ery, ha"e been, in all ages, the scourge of the

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efforts of our pride to emerge from that happy state of ignorance, in hich the isdom of

pro"idence had placed us. That thick "eil ith hich it has co"ered all its operations

seems to be a sufficient proof that it ne"er designed us for such fruitless researches. 6utis there, indeed, one lesson it has taught us, by hich e ha"e rightly profited, or hich

e ha"e neglected ith impunity? 9et men learn for once that nature ould ha"e preser"ed them from science, as a mother snatches a dangerous eapon from the hands

of her child. 9et them kno that all the secrets she hides are so many e"ils from hichshe protects them, and that the "ery difficulty they find in acquiring knoledge is not the

least of her bounty toards them. +en are per"erse& but they ould ha"e been far orse,

if they had had the misfortune to be born learned.

#o humiliating are these reflections to humanity, and ho mortified by them our pride

should be5 What5 it ill be asked, is uprightness the child of ignorance? Is "irtue

inconsistent ith learning? What consequences might not be dran from such

suppositions? 6ut to reconcile these apparent contradictions, e need only e)amine

closely the emptiness and "anity of those pompous titles, hich are so liberally bestoedon human knoledge, and hich so blind our !udgment. 9et us consider, therefore, the

arts and sciences in themsel"es. 9et us see hat must result from their ad"ancement, andlet us not hesitate to admit the truth of all those points on hich our arguments coincide

ith the inductions e can make from history.

THE SECOND ART

%n ancient tradition passed out of $gypt into -reece, that some god, ho as an enemyto the repose of mankind, as the in"entor of the sciences.* What must the $gyptians,

among hom the sciences first arose, ha"e thought of them? %nd they beheld, near at

hand, the sources from hich they sprang. In fact, hether e turn to the annals of theorld, or eke out ith philosophical in"estigations the uncertain chronicles of history, eshall not find for human knoledge an origin ansering to the idea e are pleased to

entertain of it at present. %stronomy as born of superstition, eloquence of ambition,

hatred, falsehood and flattery& geometry of a"arice& physics of an idle curiosity& and e"enmoral philosophy of human pride. Thus the arts and sciences oe their birth to our "ices&

e should be less doubtful of their ad"antages, if they had sprung from our "irtues.

Their e"il origin is, indeed, but too plainly reproduced in their ob!ects. What ould

become of the arts, ere they not cherished by lu)ury? If men ere not un!ust, of hatuse ere !urisprudence? What ould become of history, if there ere no tyrants, ars, or

conspiracies? In a ord, ho ould pass his life in barren speculations, if e"erybody,

attenti"e only to the obligations of humanity and the necessities of nature, spent hishole life in ser"ing his country, obliging his friends, and relie"ing the unhappy? %re e

then made to li"e and die on the brink of that ell at the bottom of hich Truth lies hid?

This reflection alone is, in my opinion, enough to discourage at first setting out e"eryman ho seriously endea"ours to instruct himself by the study of philosophy.

What a "ariety of dangers surrounds us5 What a number of rong paths present

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themsel"es in the in"estigation of the sciences5 Through ho many errors, more perilous

than truth itself is useful, must e not pass to arri"e at it? The disad"antages e lie under

are e"ident& for falsehood is capable of an infinite "ariety of combinations& but the truthhas only one manner of being. 6esides, here is the man ho sincerely desires to find it?

8r e"en admitting his good ill, by hat characteristic marks is he sure of knoing it?%mid the infinite di"ersity of opinions here is the criterion* by hich e may certainly

!udge of it? %gain, hat is still more difficult, should e e"en be fortunate enough todisco"er it, ho among us ill kno ho to make right use of it?

If our sciences are futile in the ob!ects they propose, they are no less dangerous in the

effects they produce. 6eing the effect of idleness, they generate idleness in their turn& andan irreparable loss of time is the first pre!udice hich they must necessarily cause to

society. To li"e ithout doing some good is a great e"il as ell in the political as in the

moral orld& and hence e"ery useless citi;en should be regarded as a pernicious person.

Tell me then, illustrious philosophers, of hom e learn the ratios in hich attraction

acts in "acuo& and in the re"olution of the planets, the relations of spaces tra"ersed inequal times& by hom e are taught hat cur"es ha"e con!ugate points, points of

infle)ion, and cusps& ho the soul and body correspond, like to clocks, ithout actualcommunication& hat planets may be inhabited& and hat insects reproduce in an

e)traordinary manner. %nser me, I say, you from hom e recei"e all this sublime

information, hether e should ha"e been less numerous, orse go"erned, lessformidable, less flourishing, or more per"erse, supposing you had taught us none of all

these fine things.

Reconsider therefore the importance of your productions& and, since the labours of the

most enlightened of our learned men and the best of our citi;ens are of so little utility, tell

us hat e ought to think of that numerous herd of obscure riters and uselesslittErateurs, ho de"our ithout any return the substance of the 0tate.

Fseless, do I say? Would -od they ere5 0ociety ould be more peaceful, and morals

less corrupt. 6ut these "ain and futile declaimers go forth on all sides, armed ith theirfatal parado)es, to sap the foundations of our faith, and nullify "irtue. They smile

contemptuously at such old names as patriotism and religion, and consecrate their talents

and philosophy to the destruction and defamation of all that men hold sacred. 3ot thatthey bear any real hatred to "irtue or dogma& they are the enemies of public opinion

alone& to bring them to the foot of the altar, it ould be enough to banish them to a land

of atheists. What e)tra"agancies ill not the rage of singularity induce men to commit5

The aste of time is certainly a great e"il& but still greater e"ils attend upon literature andthe arts. 8ne is lu)ury, produced like them by indolence and "anity. 9u)ury is seldom

unattended by the arts and sciences& and they are alays attended by lu)ury. I kno that

our philosophy, fertile in parado)es, pretends, in contradiction to the e)perience of allages, that lu)ury contributes to the splendour of 0tates. 6ut, ithout insisting on the

necessity of sumptuary las, can it be denied that rectitude of morals is essential to the

duration of empires, and that lu)ury is diametrically opposed to such rectitude? 9et it be

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admitted that lu)ury is a certain indication of ealth& that it e"en ser"es, if you ill, to

increase such ealth/ hat conclusion is to be dran from this parado), so orthy of the

times? %nd hat ill become of "irtue if riches are to be acquired at any cost? The politicians of the ancient orld ere alays talking of morals and "irtue& ours speak of

nothing but commerce and money. 8ne of them ill tell you that in such a country a manis orth !ust as much as he ill sell for at %lgiers/ another, pursuing the same mode of

calculation, finds that in some countries a man is orth nothing, and in others still lessthan nothing& they "alue men as they do dro"es of o)en. %ccording to them, a man is

orth no more to the 0tate, than the amount he consumes& and thus a 0ybarite ould be

orth at least thirty 9acedmonians. 9et these riters tell me, hoe"er, hich of the torepublics, 0ybaris or 0parta, as subdued by a handful of peasants, and hich became

the terror of %sia.

The monarchy of yrus as conquered by thirty thousand men, led by a prince poorer

than the meanest of 4ersian 0atraps/ in like manner the 0cythians, the poorest of all

nations, ere able to resist the most poerful monarchs of the uni"erse. When tofamous republics contended for the empire of the orld, the one rich and the other poor,

the former as subdued by the latter. The Roman empire in its turn, after ha"ing engulfedall the riches of the uni"erse, fell a prey to peoples ho kne not e"en hat riches ere.

The ranks conquered the -auls, and the 0a)ons $ngland, ithout any other treasures

than their bra"ery and their po"erty. % band of poor mountaineers, hose hole cupidityas confined to the possession of a fe sheep1skins, ha"ing first gi"en a check to the

arrogance of %ustria, ent on to crush the opulent and formidable house of 6urgundy,

hich at that time made the potentates of $urope tremble. In short, all the poer and

isdom of the heir of harles the ifth, backed by all the treasures of the Indies, broke before a fe herring1fishers. 9et our politicians condescend to lay aside their calculations

for a moment, to reflect on these e)amples& let them learn for once that money, though it buys e"erything else, cannot buy morals and citi;ens. What then is the precise point indispute about lu)ury? It is to kno hich is most ad"antageous to empires, that their

e)istence should be brilliant and momentary, or "irtuous and lasting? I say brilliant, but

ith hat lustre5 % taste for ostentation ne"er pre"ails in the same minds as a taste forhonesty. 3o, it is impossible that understandings, degraded by a multitude of futile cares,

should e"er rise to hat is truly great and noble& e"en if they had the strength, they ould

ant the courage.

$"ery artist lo"es applause. The praise of his contemporaries is the most "aluable part ofhis recompense. What then ill he do to obtain it, if he ha"e the misfortune to be born

among a people, and at a time, hen learning is in "ogue, and the superficiality of youth

is in a position to lead the fashion& hen men ha"e sacrificed their taste to those hotyrannise o"er their liberty, and one se) dare not appro"e anything but hat is

proportionate to the pusillanimity of the other&* hen the greatest masterpieces of

dramatic poetry are condemned, and the noblest of musical productions neglected? This

is hat he ill do. #e ill loer his genius to the le"el of the age, and ill rather submitto compose mediocre orks, that ill be admired during his life1time, than labour at

sublime achie"ements hich ill not be admired till long after he is dead. 9et the famous

*H





oltaire tell us ho many ner"ous and masculine beauties he has sacrificed to our false

delicacy, and ho much that is great and noble, that spirit of gallantry, hich delights in

hat is fri"olous and petty, has cost him.

It is thus that the dissolution of morals, the necessary consequence of lu)ury, brings ithit in its turn the corruption of taste. urther, if by chance there be found among men of

a"erage ability, an indi"idual ith enough strength of mind to refuse to comply ith the

spirit of the age, and to debase himself by puerile productions, his lot ill be hard. #eill die in indigence and obli"ion. This is not so much a prediction, as a fact already

confirmed by e)perience5 Bes, arle and 4ierre anloo, the time is already come hen

your pencils, destined to increase the ma!esty of our temples by sublime and holy images,must fall from your hands, or else be prostituted to adorn the panels of a coach ith

lasci"ious paintings. %nd you, inimitable 4igal, ri"al of 4hidias and 4ra)iteles, hose

chisel the ancients ould ha"e employed to car"e them gods, hose images almost

e)cuse their idolatry in our eyes& e"en your hand must condescend to fashion the belly of

an ape, or else remain idle.

We cannot reflect on the morality of mankind ithout contemplating ith pleasure the

picture of the simplicity hich pre"ailed in the earliest times. This image may be !ustly

compared to a beautiful coast, adorned only by the hands of nature& toards hich oureyes are constantly turned, and hich e see receding ith regret. While men ere

innocent and "irtuous and lo"ed to ha"e the gods for itnesses of their actions, they

delt together in the same huts& but hen they became "icious, they gre tired of suchincon"enient onlookers, and banished them to magnificent temples. inally, they e)pelled

their deities e"en from these, in order to dell there themsel"es& or at least the temples of

the gods ere no longer more magnificent than the palaces of the citi;ens. This as the

height of degeneracy& nor could "ice e"er be carried to greater lengths than hen it asseen, supported, as it ere, at the doors of the great, on columns of marble, and gra"en on

orinthian capitals.

%s the con"eniences of life increase, as the arts are brought to perfection, and lu)uryspreads, true courage flags, the "irtues disappear& and all this is the effect of the sciences

and of those arts hich are e)ercised in the pri"acy of men2s dellings. When the -oths

ra"aged -reece, the libraries only escaped the flames oing to an opinion that as set onfoot among them, that it as best to lea"e the enemy ith a possession so calculated to

di"ert their attention from military e)ercises, and keep them engaged in indolent and

sedentary occupations.

harles the $ighth found himself master of Tuscany and the kingdom of 3aples, almostithout draing sord& and all his court attributed this une)pected success to the fact

that the princes and nobles of Italy applied themsel"es ith greater earnestness to the

culti"ation of their understandings than to acti"e and martial pursuits. In fact, says thesensible person ho records these characteristics, e)perience plainly tells us, that in

military matters and all that resemble them application to the sciences tends rather to

**



make men effeminate and coardly than resolute and "igorous.

The Romans confessed that military "irtue as e)tinguished among them, in proportion

as they became connoisseurs in the arts of the painter, the engra"er and the goldsmith,

and began to culti"ate the fine arts. Indeed, as if this famous country as to be for e"er ane)ample to other nations, the rise of the +edici and the re"i"al of letters has once more

destroyed, this time perhaps for e"er, the martial reputation hich Italy seemed a fe

centuries ago to ha"e reco"ered.

The ancient republics of -reece, ith that isdom hich as so conspicuous in most oftheir institutions, forbade their citi;ens to pursue all those inacti"e and sedentary

occupations, hich by ener"ating and corrupting the body diminish also the "igour of the

mind. With hat courage, in fact, can it be thought that hunger and thirst, fatigues,dangers and death, can be faced by men hom the smallest ant o"erhelms and the

slightest difficulty repels? With hat resolution can soldiers support the e)cessi"e toils of

ar, hen they are entirely unaccustomed to them? With hat spirits can they makeforced marches under officers ho ha"e not e"en the strength to tra"el on horseback? It

is no anser to cite the reputed "alour of all the modern arriors ho are so scientifically

trained. I hear much of their bra"ery in a day2s battle& but I am told nothing of ho they

support e)cessi"e fatigue, ho they stand the se"erity of the seasons and the inclemencyof the eather. % little sunshine or sno, or the ant of a fe superfluities, is enough to

cripple and destroy one of our finest armies in a fe days. Intrepid arriors5 permit me

for once to tell you the truth, hich you seldom hear. 8f your bra"ery I am fully satisfied.I ha"e no doubt that you ould ha"e triumphed ith #annibal at ann, and at

Trasimene/ that you ould ha"e passed the Rubicon ith sar, and enabled him to

ensla"e his country& but you ne"er ould ha"e been able to cross the %lps ith the

former, or ith the latter to subdue your on ancestors, the -auls.

% ar does not alays depend on the e"ents of battle/ there is in generalship an art

superior to that of gaining "ictories. % man may beha"e ith great intrepidity under fire,

and yet be a "ery bad officer. $"en in the common soldier, a little more strength and"igour ould perhaps be more useful than so much courage, hich after all is no

protection from death. %nd hat does it matter to the 0tate hether its troops perish by

cold and fe"er, or by the sord of the enemy?

If the culti"ation of the sciences is pre!udicial to military qualities, it is still more so tomoral qualities. $"en from our infancy an absurd system of education ser"es to adorn our

it and corrupt our !udgment. We see, on e"ery side, huge institutions, here our youth

are educated at great e)pense, and instructed in e"erything but their duty. Bour childrenill be ignorant of their on language, hen they can talk others hich are not spoken

anyhere. They ill be able to compose "erses hich they can hardly understand& and,

ithout being capable of distinguishing truth from error, they ill possess the art ofmaking them unrecognisable by specious arguments. 6ut magnanimity, equity,

temperance, humanity and courage ill be ords of hich they kno not the meaning.

The dear name of country ill ne"er strike on their ears& and if they e"er hear speak of

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-od,* it ill be less to fear, than to be frightened of, #im. I ould as soon, said a ise

man, that my pupil had spent his time in the tennis court as in this manner& for there his

body at least ould ha"e got e)ercise.

I ell kno that children ought to be kept employed, and that idleness is for them thedanger most to be feared. 6ut hat should they be taught? This is undoubtedly an

important question. 9et them be taught hat they are to practise hen they come to be

men&* not hat they ought to forget.

8ur gardens are adorned ith statues and our galleries ith pictures. What ould youimagine these masterpieces of art, thus e)hibited to public admiration, represent? The

great men, ho ha"e defended their country, or the still greater men ho ha"e enriched it

by their "irtues? ar from it. They are the images of e"ery per"ersion of heart and mind,carefully selected from ancient mythology, and presented to the early curiosity of our

children, doubtless that they may ha"e before their eyes the representations of "icious

actions, e"en before they are able to read.

Whence arise all those abuses, unless it be from that fatal inequality introduced amongmen by the difference of talents and the cheapening of "irtue? This is the most e"ident

effect of all our studies, and the most dangerous of all their consequences. The question is

no longer hether a man is honest, but hether he is cle"er. We do not ask hether a book is useful, but hether it is ell1ritten. Reards are la"ished on ith and

ingenuity, hile "irtue is left unhonoured. There are a thousand pri;es for fine discourses,

and none for good actions. I should be glad, hoe"er, to kno hether the honourattaching to the best discourse that e"er ins the pri;e in this %cademy is comparable

ith the merit of ha"ing founded the pri;e.

% ise man does not go in chase of fortune& but he is by no means insensible to glory,

and hen he sees it so ill distributed, his "irtue, hich might ha"e been animated by alittle emulation, and turned to the ad"antage of society, droops and dies aay in obscurity

and indigence. It is for this reason that the agreeable arts must in time e"eryhere be

preferred to the useful& and this truth has been but too much confirmed since the re"i"al

of the arts and sciences. We ha"e physicists, geometricians, chemists, astronomers, poets,musicians, and painters in plenty& but e ha"e no longer a citi;en among us& or if there be

found a fe scattered o"er our abandoned countryside, they are left to perish there

unnoticed and neglected. 0uch is the condition to hich e are reduced, and such are ourfeelings toards those ho gi"e us our daily bread, and our children milk.

I confess, hoe"er, that the e"il is not so great as it might ha"e become. The eternal

pro"idence, in placing salutary simples beside no)ious plants, and making poisonous

animals contain their on antidote, has taught the so"ereigns of the earth, ho are itsministers, to imitate its isdom. It is by folloing this e)ample that the truly great

monarch, to hose glory e"ery age ill add ne lustre, dre from the "ery bosom of the

arts and sciences, the "ery fountains of a thousand lapses from rectitude, those famoussocieties, hich, hile they are depositaries of the dangerous trust of human knoledge,

*:









rusticity of our forefathers ould ha"e been incapable. -o to our descendants, along ith

those still more pernicious orks hich reek of the corrupted manners of the present age5

9et them together con"ey to posterity a faithful history of the progress and ad"antages ofour arts and sciences. If they are read, they ill lea"e not a doubt about the question e

are no discussing, and unless mankind should then be still more foolish than e, theyill lift up their hands to #ea"en and e)claim in bitterness of heart/ “%lmighty -od5 thou

ho holdest in Thy hand the minds of men, deli"er us from the fatal arts and sciences ofour forefathers& gi"e us back ignorance, innocence and po"erty, hich alone can make us

happy and are precious in Thy sight.”

6ut if the progress of the arts and sciences has added nothing to our real happiness& if ithas corrupted our morals, and if that corruption has "itiated our taste, hat are e to

think of the herd of te)t1book authors, ho ha"e remo"ed those impediments hich

nature purposely laid in the ay to the Temple of the +uses, in order to guard its

approach and try the poers of those ho might be tempted to seek knoledge? What

are e to think of those compilers ho ha"e indiscreetly broken open the door of thesciences, and introduced into their sanctuary a populace unorthy to approach it, hen it

as greatly to be ished that all ho should be found incapable of making a considerable progress in the career of learning should ha"e been repulsed at the entrance, and thereby

cast upon those arts hich are useful to society. % man ho ill be all his life a bad

"ersifier, or a third1rate geometrician, might ha"e made ne"ertheless an e)cellent clothier.Those hom nature intended for her disciples ha"e not needed masters. 6acon, <escartes

and 3eton, those teachers of mankind, had themsel"es no teachers. What guide indeed

could ha"e taken them so far as their sublime genius directed them? 8rdinary masters

ould only ha"e cramped their intelligence, by confining it ithin the narro limits oftheir on capacity. It as from the obstacles they met ith at first, that they learned to

e)ert themsel"es, and bestirred themsel"es to tra"erse the "ast field hich they co"ered.If it be proper to allo some men to apply themsel"es to the study of the arts andsciences, it is only those ho feel themsel"es able to alk alone in their footsteps and to

outstrip them. It belongs only to these fe to raise monuments to the glory of the human

understanding. 6ut if e are desirous that nothing should be abo"e their genius, nothingshould be beyond their hopes. This is the only encouragement they require. The soul

insensibly adapts itself to the ob!ects on hich it is employed, and thus it is that great

occasions produce great men. The greatest orator in the orld as onsul of Rome, and perhaps the greatest of philosophers 9ord hancellor of $ngland. an it be concei"ed

that, if the former had only been a professor at some Fni"ersity, and the latter a pensioner

of some %cademy, their orks ould not ha"e suffered from their situation. 9et not

princes disdain to admit into their councils those ho are most capable of gi"ing themgood ad"ice. 9et them renounce the old pre!udice, hich as in"ented by the pride of the

great, that the art of go"erning mankind is more difficult than that of instructing them& as

if it as easier to induce men to do good "oluntarily, than to compel them to it by force.9et the learned of the first rank find an honourable refuge in their courts& let them there

en!oy the only recompense orthy of them, that of promoting by their influence the

happiness of the peoples they ha"e enlightened by their isdom. It is by this means onlythat e are likely to see hat "irtue, science and authority can do, hen animated by the

*>



noblest emulation, and orking unanimously for the happiness of mankind.

6ut so long as poer alone is on one side, and knoledge and understanding alone on the

other, the learned ill seldom make great ob!ects their study, princes ill still more rarely

do great actions, and the peoples ill continue to be, as they are, mean, corrupt andmiserable.

%s for us, ordinary men, on hom #ea"en has not been pleased to besto such great

talents& as e are not destined to reap such glory, let us remain in our obscurity. 9et us

not co"et a reputation e should ne"er attain, and hich, in the present state of things,ould ne"er make up to us for the trouble it ould ha"e cost us, e"en if e ere fully

qualified to obtain it. Why should e build our happiness on the opinions of others, hen

e can find it in our on hearts? 9et us lea"e to others the task of instructing mankind intheir duty, and confine oursel"es to the discharge of our on. We ha"e no occasion for

greater knoledge than this.

irtue5 sublime science of simple minds, are such industry and preparation needed if e

are to kno you? %re not your principles gra"en on e"ery heart? 3eed e do more, tolearn your las, than e)amine oursel"es, and listen to the "oice of conscience, hen the

passions are silent?

This is the true philosophy, ith hich e must learn to be content, ithout en"ying the

fame of those celebrated men, hose names are immortal in the republic of letters. 9etus, instead of en"ying them, endea"our to make, beteen them and us, that honourable

distinction hich as formerly seen to e)ist beteen to great peoples, that the one

kne ho to speak, and the other ho to act, aright.

J * K0o"ereigns alays see ith pleasure a taste for the arts of amusement and superfluity,hich do not result in the e)portation of bullion, increase among their sub!ects. They

"ery ell kno that, besides nourishing that littleness of mind hich is proper to sla"ery,

the increase of artificial ants only binds so many more chains upon the people.%le)ander, ishing to keep the Ichthyophages in a state of dependence, compelled them

to gi"e up fishing, and subsist on the customary food of ci"ilised nations. The %merican

sa"ages, ho go naked, and li"e entirely on the products of the chase, ha"e been alaysimpossible to subdue. What yoke, indeed, can be imposed on men ho stand in need of

nothing?

J * K“I lo"e,” said +ontaigne, “to con"erse and hold an argument& but only ith "ery fe people, and that for my on gratification. or to do so, by ay of affording amusementfor the great, or of making a parade of one2s talents, is, in my opinion, a trade "ery ill1

becoming a man of honour.” It is the trade of all our intellectuals, sa"e one.

J * KI dare not speak of those happy nations, ho did not e"en kno the name of many

"ices, hich e find it difficult to suppress& the sa"ages of %merica, hose simple andnatural mode of go"ernment +ontaigne preferred, ithout hesitation, not only to the las

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of 4lato, but to the most perfect "isions of go"ernment philosophy can e"er suggest. #e

cites many e)amples, striking for those ho are capable of appreciating them. 6ut, hat

of all that, says he, they can2t run to a pair of breeches5

J * KWhat are e to think as the real opinion of the %thenians themsel"es abouteloquence, hen they ere so "ery careful to banish declamation from that upright

tribunal, against hose decision e"en their gods made no appeal? What did the Romans

think of physicians, hen they e)pelled medicine from the republic? %nd hen the relicsof humanity left among the 0paniards induced them to forbid their layers to set foot in

%merica, hat must they ha"e thought of !urisprudence? +ay it not be said that they

thought, by this single e)pedient, to make reparation for all the outrages they hadcommitted against the unhappy Indians?

J * KIt is easy to see the allegory in the fable of 4rometheus/ and it does not appear that the

-reeks, ho chained him to the aucasus, had a better opinion of him than the $gyptians

had of their god Theutus. The 0atyr, says an ancient fable, the first time he sa a fire,as going to kiss and embrace it& but 4rometheus cried out to him to forbear, or his beard

ould rue it. It burns, says he, e"erything that touches it.

J * KThe less e kno, the more e think e kno. The peripatetics doubted of nothing.

<id not <escartes construct the uni"erse ith cubes and "ortices? %nd is there in all$urope one single physicist ho does not boldly e)plain the ine)plicable mysteries of

electricity, hich ill, perhaps, be for e"er the despair of real philosophers?

J * KI am far from thinking that the ascendancy hich omen ha"e obtained o"er men is

an e"il in itself. It is a present hich nature has made them for the good of mankind. If

better directed, it might be producti"e of as much good, as it is no of e"il. We are notsufficiently sensible of hat ad"antage it ould be to society to gi"e a better education to

that half of our species hich go"erns the other. +en ill alays be hat omen chooseto make them. If you ish then that they should be noble and "irtuous, let omen be

taught hat greatness of soul and "irtue are. The reflections hich this sub!ect arouses,

and hich 4lato formerly made, deser"e to be more fully de"eloped by a pen orthy of

folloing so great a master, and defending so great a cause.

J * K4ensEes philosophiques L<iderotM.

J * K0uch as the education of the 0partans ith regard to one of the greatest of their

kings. It is ell orthy of notice, says +ontaigne, that the e)cellent institutions of9ycurgus, hich ere in truth miraculously perfect, paid as much attention to the bringing up of youth as if this ere their principal ob!ect, and yet, at the "ery seat of the

+uses, they make so little mention of learning that it seems as if their generous1spirited

youth disdained e"ery other restraint, and required, instead of masters of the sciences,instructors in "alour, prudence and !ustice alone.

9et us hear ne)t hat the same riter says of the ancient 4ersians. 4lato, says he, relates

*C















that the heir to the throne as thus brought up. %t his birth he as committed, not to the

care of omen, but to eunuchs in the highest authority and near the person of the king, on

account of their "irtue. These undertook to render his body beautiful and healthy. %tse"en years of age they taught him to ride and go hunting. %t fourteen he as placed in

the hands of four, the isest, the most !ust, the most temperate and the bra"est persons inthe kingdom. The first instructed him in religion, the second taught him to adhere

in"iolably to truth, the third to conquer his passions, and the fourth to be afraid ofnothing. %ll, I may add, taught him to be a good man& but not one taught him to be

learned.

%styages, in Nenophon, desires yrus to gi"e him an account of his last lesson. It as

this, ansered yrus, one of the big boys of the school ha"ing a small coat, ga"e it to a

little boy and took aay from him his coat, hich as larger. 8ur master ha"ingappointed me arbiter in the dispute, I ordered that matters should stand as they ere, as

each boy seemed to be better suited than before. The master, hoe"er, remonstrated ith

me, saying that I considered only con"enience, hereas !ustice ought to ha"e been thefirst concern, and !ustice teaches that no one should suffer forcible interference ith hat

belongs to him. #e added that he as punished for his rong decision, !ust as boys are

punished in our country schools hen they forget the first aorist of OPQO. +y tutor must

make me a fine harangue, in genere demonstrativo, before he ill persuade me that hisschool is as good as this.

J * KIf e consider the frightful disorders hich printing has already caused in $urope, and

!udge of the future by the progress of its e"ils from day to day, it is easy to foresee that

so"ereigns ill hereafter take as much pains to banish this dreadful art from theirdominions, as they e"er took to encourage it. The 0ultan %chmet, yielding to the

importunities of certain pretenders to taste, consented to ha"e a press erected atonstantinople& but it as hardly set to ork before they ere obliged to destroy it, andthro the plant into a ell.

It is related that the aliph 8mar, being asked hat should be done ith the library at%le)andria, ansered in these ords. “If the books in the library contain anything

contrary to the %lcoran, they are e"il and ought to be burnt& if they contain only hat the

%lcoran teaches, they are superfluous.” This reasoning has been cited by our men ofletters as the height of absurdity& but if -regory the -reat had been in the place of 8mar,

and the -ospel in the place of the %lcoran, the library ould still ha"e been burnt, and it

ould ha"e been perhaps the finest action of his life.

READING !: MONTESQUIEU, FROM THE ERSIAN LETTERS:

9$TT$R NI

*D





Usbek to Mirza, at Ispahan

Bou ai"e your on !udgment in deference to mine&*you e"en deign to consult me&

you to profess your belief in my ability to instruct you. +y dear, +ir;a if there is onething hich flatters me more than your good opinion of me, it is the friendship hich

prompts it.In the fulfillment of the task you ha"e prescribed me, I do not think there is any

necessity for argument of an abstruse order. There are certain truths hich it is notsufficient to kno, but hich must be reali;ed/ such are the great commonplaces of

morality. 4robably the folloing fable ill affect you more than the most subtle

argument/8ne upon a time there delt in %rabia a small tribe called Troglodites, descendents

of the ancient Troglodites, ho, if historians are to be belie"ed, 7 ere liker beasts than

men. They ere not, hoe"er, counterfeit presentments of the loer animals. They hadnot fur like bears& they did not hiss like serpents& and they did possess to eyes/: but

they ere so malicious, so brutish, that they lacked all notion of !ustice and equity.

% king of foreign origin reigned o"er them. Wishing to correct their naturalickedness, he treated them ith se"erity& but they conspired against him, sle him, and

e)terminated his line.

They then assembled to appoint a go"erning body. %fter many dissensions, they

elected magistrates. These had not been long in office, hen they found themintolerable, and killed them also.

reed from this ne yoke, the people ere sayed only by their sa"age instincts.

$"ery man determined to do hat as right in his on eyes& and in attending to his oninterests, the general elfare as forgotten.

The unanimous decision ga"e uni"ersal satisfaction. They said/ “Why should I kill

myself ith ork for those in hom I ha"e no interest? I ill only think of myself/ ho

should the elfare of others affect me/ I ill pro"ide for my on necessities& and, ifthese are satisfied, it is not concern of mine though all the other Troglodites li"e in

misery.”

$ach man said to himself in seed1time, “I shall till no more land than ill supply meith corn enough for my ants. What use ha"e I for any more? I am not going to bother

myself for nothing.”

The land in this little kingdom as not all of the same quality/ some of it as barrenand mountainous& and other portions, lying lo, ere ell1atered. 8ne year a drought

occurred, so se"ere, that the uplands bore no crop at all, hilst those that ere ell1

atered brought forth abundantly. In consequence of this, the highlanders almost all diedof hungered, because the people of the lolands had no mercy on them, and refused to

share the har"est.

The year after, the eather being "ery et, the higher grounds producede)traordinary crops, hilst the lolands ere flooded. %gain half the people ere

famine1stricken& but the retched sufferers found the mountaineers as hard as they

themsel"es had been.

8ne of the chief men of the country had a "ery lo"ely ife. % neighbour of his fellin lo"e ith her, and carried her off. This ga"e rise to a bitter quarrel& and after many

ords and blos, the parties agreed to submit their case to the !udgment of a Troglodite,

*G

http://rbsche.people.wm.edu/teaching/plp/letter11.html#note1%23note1










ho had been ell esteemed during the republic. #a"ing gone to him, they ere about to

argue the case before him, hen he cried, “What does it matter hose ife she is? +y

land aits to be tilled& and I am not going to aste my time settling your quarrels anddoing your business, hen I might be attending to my on& be kind enough to lea"e me

alone, and trouble me no more ith your disputes.” With that he left them, and ent to

ork in his fields. The ra"isher, ho as the stronger man, sore he ould sooner diethan gi"e up the oman. The other, smarting under his neighbour2s ill1treatment and the

unfeeling conduct of the umpire, as going home in despair, hen he met a fine young

oman returning from the ell. #a"ing no longer a ife of his on, he as attractedtoards her& and she pleased him all the more hen he learnt she as the ife of him

hom he had solicited to !udge his case, and ho had pro"ed so pitiless to him. #e

therefore sei;ed the oman and carried her to his house.

%nother man, the oner of some fairly producti"e ground, took great pains in itsculti"ation. To of his neighbors conspired to dri"e him from his house, and sei;e his

lands. They entered into a compact to oppose all ho should try to oust them, and they

actually succeeded for se"eral months. 8ne of the to, hoe"er, disgusted at ha"ing to

share hat might be his on e)clusi"ely, killed the other, and became sole master of theground. 6ut his reign as soon o"er/ to other Troglodites attacked him, and as he as

no match for them, they killed him.0till another Troglodite, seeing some ool e)posed for sale, asked the price of it.

The seller argued thus ith himself/ “%t the market price I should recei"e for my ool as

much money as ould buy to measures of corn& but I ill sell it for four times that sum,and then I can buy eight measures.” %s the other anted the ool, he paid the price

demanded. “+any thanks,” said the "endor, “I shall no buy some corn.” “What

re!oined the buyer, “you ant corn? I ha"e some to sell& but the price ill rather astonish

you. Bou must kno that, as there is a famine in the land, corn is e)tremely dear. If youreturn me my money, I ill gi"e you on measure of corn/ I ould not gi"e you a grain

more for the price, though you ere to die of hunger.”

+eantime a dreadful malady as ra"aging the land. %n able physician came from aneighboring country, and prescribed ith such success that he cured all his patients.

When the plague ceased, he called for his fees, but as refused by one and all. There

as nothing for it but to return to his on country, hich he reached orn to a skeleton by the fatigues of a long !ourney. 0oon after he heard that the same disease had broken

out afresh among these thankless people, and ith more "irulence than before. This time

they did not ait for him, but sent to entreat his presence. “6egone,” he cried,

“unrighteous men5 In your souls there is a poison more deadly than that hich you ishme to cure& you are unorthy to li"e, for you are inhuman monsters, unacquainted ith

the first principles of !ustice. I ill not offend the gods ho punish you by opposing their

!ust rath.”$r;eroum, the

:rd of the second moon of -emmadi=, *C**.

9$TT$R NII

Usbek to the Same, at Ispahan

7H





Bou ha"e seen, my dear +ir;a, ho the Troglodites perished in their sins, the

"ictims of their on righteousness. 8nly to families escaped the doom hich befell the

nation.In that country there li"ed !ust to "ery remarkable men, humane, !ust, lo"ers of

"irtue. Fnited by their uprightness as much as by the corruption of their fellos, they

regarded the general desolation ith hearts from hich pity e)pelled e"ery other feeling&and their compassion united them in a ne bond. Together they laboured for their mutual

benefit& no dissensions arose beteen them e)cept such as may spring from the tenderest

friendship. In a secluded part of the country, far remo"ed from those ho ere unorthyof their companionship, they led a calm and happy life. The earth, glad to be tilled by

such "irtuous hands, seemed to yield her fruits of her on accord.

They lo"ed their i"es, and ere belo"ed most tenderly. Their utmost care as

gi"en to the "irtuous training of their children. They kept before their young minds themisfortunes of their countrymen, and held them up as a most melancholy e)ample.

%bo"e all, they led them to see that the interest of the indi"idual as bound up in that of

the community& that to isolate oneself as to court ruin& that the sot of "irtue should

ne"er be counted, nor the practice of it regarded as troublesome& and that in acting !ustly by others, e besto blessings on oursel"es.

They soon en!oyed the reard of "irtuous parents, hich consists in ha"ing childrenlike themsel"es. #appy marriages increased the number of the young people ho gre

up under their guidance. %lthough the community increased, there as still but one

interest& and "irtue, instead of losing its force in the crod, gre stronger by reason ofmore numerous e)amples.

It is impossible to depict the happiness of these Troglodites5 0o upright a people

could not fail to be the special ob!ects of di"ine care. They ere taught to re"erence the

-ods ith the first daning of intellect& and religion refined manners that nature had leftuntutored.

They established feasts in honour of the -ods. Boung men and maidens, decked ith

floers, orshipped them ith dances and rural minstrelsy. 6anquets folloed, in hichthey struck a happy mean beteen mirth and frugality. %t these gatherings nature spoke

its artless language& there the young folks learned ho to make lo"e2s bargain of hearts/

trembling girls blushed to find on their lips a promise hich the blessing of their parentssoon ratified& tender mothers delighted themsel"es in forecasting happy marriages.

When they "isited the temple it as not to ask of the -ods ealth and o"erfloing

plenty& these fortunate Troglodites regarded such requests as unorthy of them& if they

made them at all, it as not for themsel"es, but for their countrymen. They approachedthe altar only to pray for the health of their parents, for the unity of their brethren, for the

lo"e of their i"es, the affection and obedience of their children. Thither the maidens

came to offer up the seet sacrifice of their hearts, asking in return only the right to makea Troglodite happy.

In the e"ening, hen the flocks had left the fields, and the eary o)en had returned

from ploughing, these people met together. <uring a frugal meal they sang of the crimesof the first Troglodites, and their sad fate& of the re"i"al of "irtue ith a ne race, and of

its happiness. Then they celebrated the greatness of the -ods, abounding in mercy to

those ho seek them, and "isiting ith ine"itable !udgments those ho re"erence them

not. These ould be folloed by a description of the delights of a country life, and the

7*



happiness that springs from a state of innocence. 0oon after they retired to rest, and their

slumbers ere unbroken by care or an)iety.

The pro"ision of nature as sufficient for both their pleasures and their ants. %co"etous man as unknon in this happy country. When they made presents, the gi"er

alays felt himself more blessed than the recei"er. The hole race looked upon

themsel"es as one single family& their flocks ere almost alays intermi)ed, and the onlytrouble hich they usually shirked as that of separating them.

$r;eroum,

the @th of the second moon of -emmadi, *C**

9$TT$R NIII

Usbek to the Same

I cannot say half I ish to say about the "irtue of the Troglodites. 8ne of them

once said, “Tomorro it is my father2s turn to ork in the fields& I shall rise to hours

before him, and hen he comes to his ork he ill find it all done.”%nother said to himself, “I think my sister has taken a fancy for a young cousin of

mine. I must talk to my father about it, and get him to arrange a marriage.”*

%nother, being told that robbers had carried off his herd, replied, “I am "ery sorry,

because it contained a hite heifer hich I meant to offer to the -ods.”8ne as heard telling another that he as bound for the temple to return thanks to

#ea"en for the reco"ery from sickness of this brother, ho as so dear to his father, and

hom he himself lo"ed so much.

This also as once said/ “In a field ad!oining my father2s, the orkers are all daylong e)posed to the heat of the sun. I shall plant some trees there that these poor folks

may sometimes rest in their shade.”Their une)pected prosperity as not regarded ithout en"y. % neighbouring nation

gathered together and on some paltry conte)t determined to carry off their cattle. %s

soon as they heard this, the Troglodites dispatched ambassadors, ho addressed their

enemies in the folloing terms, “What e"il ha"e the Troglodites done you? #a"e theycarried off your i"es, stolen your cattle, or ra"aged your lands? 3o& e are !ust men,

and fear the -ods. What, then, do your require of us? Would you ha"e ool to make

clothes? <o you ish the milk of our cos, or the products of our fields? 9ay donyour arms, then& come ith us and e ill gi"e you all you demand. 6ut e sear by all

e hold most sacred, that if you enter our territories in enmity, e ill regard you as

dishonest men, and deal ith you as e ould ith ild beasts.”This speech as recei"ed ith contempt& and, belie"ing that the Troglodites had no

means of defence e)cept their innocence, the barbarians in"aded their territory in arlike

array.6ut the Troglodites ere ell prepared to defend themsel"es. They had placed their

i"es and children in their midst. %stonished they certainly ere at the in!ustice of their

enemies, but ere not dismayed by their number. Their hearts burned ithin them ith

77





an ardour before unknon. 8ne longed to lay don his life for his father, another for his

ife and children, this one for his brothers, that one for his friends, and all for each

other. When one fell in fight, he ho immediately took his place, besides fighting for thecommon cause, had the death of his comrade to a"enge.

%nd so the battle raged beteen right and rong. Those retched creatures, hose

sole aim as plunder, felt no shame hen they ere forced to fight. They ere forced toyield to the proess of that "irtue, hose orth they ere unable to appreciate.

$r;eroum,

the Gth of the second moon of -emmadi, *C**

9$TT$R NI

Usbek to the Same

%s their numbers increased e"ery day, the Troglodites thought it beho"ed them to

elect a king. They !udged it ise to confer the cron upon the !ustest man among them&and their thoughts turned to one, "enerable by reason of his age and his long career of

"irtue. #e, hoe"er, had refused to attend the meeting, and ithdre to his house,

oppressed ith grief.

When deputies ere sent to him to announce his election, “The -ods forbid,” criedhe, “that I should rong the Troglodites by permitting them to belie"e that there is one

man among them more !ust than I5 Bou offer me the cron& and if you insist upon itabsolutely, I cannot but take it. Remember, hoe"er, that I shall die of sorro, ha"ing

knon the Troglodites freemen, to behold them sub!ected to a ruler.” #a"ing said this,

he burst into a torrent of tears. “Fnhappy day5” he e)claimed. “Why ha"e I li"ed to seeit?” Then he upbraided them. “I see,” he cried, “8 Troglodites, hat mo"es you to this&

uprightness becomes a burden to you. In your present condition, ha"ing no head, you are

constrained in your on despite to be "irtuous& otherise your "ery e)istence ould be at

stake, and you ould relapse into the retched state of your ancestors. 6ut this seems toyou too hea"y a yoke& you ould rather become the sub!ects of a king, and submit to

las of his framing1las less e)acting than your present customs. Bou kno that thenyou ould be able to satisfy your ambition, and hile aay the time in slothful lu)ury&and that, pro"ided you a"oided the gra"er crimes, there ould be no necessity for

"irtue.” #e ceased speaking for a little, and his tears fell faster than e"er. “%nd hat do

you e)pect of me? #o can I lay commands upon a Troglodite? Would one act morenobly because I ordered him? Bou forget that a Troglodite ithout any command does

hat is right from natural inclination?”

“8 Troglodites, my days are nearly done, my blood is fro;en in my "eins, I shall

7:



soon !oin your blessed ancestors& hy ould you ha"e me carry them the sad nes that

you ha"e submitted to another la than that of "irtue?”

$r;eroum, the *Hth ofthe second moon of -emmadi, *C**.

READING C: THREE SEECHES !" RO!ESIERRE:

#. O$ %&e r'$c'()e* o+ o)'%'ca) Mora)'%, Ferar #/01

C'%'2e$*, Re(re*e$%a%'3e* o+ %&e eo()e:

0ome time since e laid before you the principles of our e)terior political system, e

no come to de"elop the principles of political morality hich are to go"ern the interior.

%fter ha"ing long pursued the path hich chance pointed out, carried aay in a manner by the efforts of contending factions, the Representati"es of the 4eople at length acquired

a character and produced a form of go"ernment. % sudden change in the success of the

nation announced to $urope the regeneration hich as operated in the national

representation. 6ut to this point of time, e"en no that I address you, it must be alloedthat e ha"e been impelled throS the tempest of a re"olution, rather by a lo"e of right and

a feeling of the ants of our country, than by an e)act theory, and precise rules ofconduct, hich e had not e"en leisure to sketch.

It is time to designate clearly the purposes of the re"olution and the point hich e ish

to attain/ It is time e should e)amine oursel"es the obstacles hich yet are beteen us

and our ishes, and the means most proper to reali;e them/ % consideration simple and

important hich appears not yet to ha"e been contemplated. Indeed, ho could a baseand corrupt go"ernment ha"e dared to "ie themsel"es in the mirror of political

rectitude? % king, a proud senate, a aesar, a romell& of these the first care as to

co"er their dark designs under the cloak of religion, to co"enant ith e"ery "ice, caresse"ery party, destroy men of probity, oppress and decei"e the people in order to attain the

end of their perfidious ambition. If e had not had a task of the first magnitude to

accomplish& if all our concern had been to raise a party or create a ne aristocracy, emight ha"e belie"ed, as certain riters more ignorant than icked asserted, that the plan

of the rench re"olution as to be found ritten in the orks of Tacitus and of

+achia"el& e might ha"e sought the duties of the representati"es of the people in the

history of %ugustus, of Tiberius, or of espasian, or e"en in that of certain renchlegislators& for tyrants are substantially alike and only differ by trifling shades of perfidy

and cruelty.

7=



or our part e no come to make the hole orld partake in your political secrets, in

order that all friends of their country may rally at the "oice of reason and public interest,

and that the rench nation and her representati"es be respected in all countries hich mayattain a knoledge of their true principles& and that intriguers ho alays seek to

supplant other intriguers may be !udged by public opinion upon settled and plain

principles.

$"ery precaution must early be used to place the interests of freedom in the hands oftruth, hich is eternal, rather than in those of men ho change& so that if the go"ernment

forgets the interests of the people or falls into the hands of men corrupted, according to

the natural course of things, the light of acknoledged principles should unmask theirtreasons, and that e"ery ne faction may read its death in the "ery thought of a crime.

#appy the people that attains this end& for, hate"er ne machinations are plotted against

their liberty, hat resources does not public reason present hen guaranteeing freedom5

What is the end of our re"olution? The tranquil en!oyment of liberty and equality& the

reign of that eternal !ustice, the las of hich are gra"en, not on marble or stone, but inthe hearts of men, e"en in the heart of the sla"e ho has forgotten them, and in that of thetyrant ho disons them.

We ish that order of things here all the lo and cruel passions are enchained, all the

beneficent and generous passions aakened by the las& here ambition subsists in a

desire to deser"e glory and ser"e the country/ here distinctions gro out of the systemof equality, here the citi;en submits to the authority of the magistrate, the magistrate

obeys that of the people, and the people are go"erned by a lo"e of !ustice& here the

country secures the comfort of each indi"idual, and here each indi"idual prides himselfon the prosperity and glory of his country& here e"ery soul e)pands by a free

communication of republican sentiments, and by the necessity of deser"ing the esteem of

a great people/ here the arts ser"e to embellish that liberty hich gi"es them "alue andsupport, and commerce is a source of public ealth and not merely of immense riches toa fe indi"iduals.

We ish in our country that morality may be substituted for egotism, probity for false

honour, principles for usages, duties for good manners, the empire of reason for the

tyranny of fashion, a contempt of "ice for a contempt of misfortune, pride for insolence,magnanimity for "anity, the lo"e of glory for the lo"e of money, good people for good

company, merit for intrigue, genius for it, truth for tinsel sho, the attractions of

happiness for the ennui of sensuality, the grandeur of man for the littleness of the great, a people magnanimous, poerful, happy, for a people amiable, fri"olous and miserable& in

a ord, all the "irtues and miracles of a Republic instead of all the "ices and absurditiesof a +onarchy.

We ish, in a ord, to fulfill the intentions of nature and the destiny of man, reali;e the

promises of philosophy, and acquit pro"idence of a long reign of crime and tyranny. Thatrance, once illustrious among ensla"ed nations, may, by eclipsing the glory of all free

countries that e"er e)isted, become a model to nations, a terror to oppressors, a

consolation to the oppressed, an ornament of the uni"erse and that, by sealing the ork

7>



ith our blood, e may at least itness the dan of the bright day of uni"ersal

happiness. This is our ambition, 1 this is the end of our efforts....

0ince "irtue and equality are the soul of the republic, and that your aim is to found, to

consolidate the republic, it follos, that the first rule of your political conduct should be,to let all your measures tend to maintain equality and encourage "irtue, for the first care

of the legislator should be to strengthen the principles on hich the go"ernment rests.

#ence all that tends to e)cite a lo"e of country, to purify manners, to e)alt the mind, todirect the passions of the human heart toards the public good, you should adopt and

establish. %ll that tends to concenter and debase them into selfish egotism, to aaken an

infatuation for littlenesses, and a disregard for greatness, you should re!ect or repress. Inthe system of the rench re"olution that hich is immoral is impolitic, and hat tends to

corrupt is counter1re"olutionary. Weaknesses, "ices, pre!udices are the road to monarchy.

arried aay, too often perhaps, by the force of ancient habits, as ell as by the innate

imperfection of human nature, to false ideas and pusillanimous sentiments, e ha"e moreto fear from the e)cesses of eakness, than from e)cesses of energy. The armth of ;eal

is not perhaps the most dangerous rock that e ha"e to a"oid& but rather that languour

hich ease produces and a distrust of our on courage. Therefore continually ind upthe sacred spring of republican go"ernment, instead of letting it run don. I need not say

that I am not here !ustifying any e)cess. 4rinciples the most sacred may be abused/ the

isdom of go"ernment should guide its operations according to circumstances, it shouldtime its measures, choose its means& for the manner of bringing about great things is an

essential part of the talent of producing them, !ust as isdom is an essential attribute of

"irtue....

It is not necessary to detail the natural consequences of the principle of democracy, it is

the principle itself, simple yet copious, hich deser"es to be de"eloped.

Republican "irtue may be considered as it respects the people and as it respects thego"ernment. It is necessary in both. When hoe"er, the go"ernment alone ant it, there

e)ists a resource in that of the people& but hen the people themsel"es are corrupted

liberty is already lost.

#appily "irtue is natural in the people, JdespiteK aristocratical pre!udices. % nation is trulycorrupt, hen, after ha"ing, by degrees lost its character and liberty, it slides from

democracy into aristocracy or monarchy& this is the death of the political body by

decrepitude....

6ut, hen, by prodigious effects of courage and of reason, a hole people break asunderthe fetters of despotism to make of the fragments trophies to liberty& hen, by their innate

"igor, they rise in a manner from the arms of death, to resume all the strength of youthhen, in turns forgi"ing and ine)orable, intrepid and docile, they can neither be checked

by impregnable ramparts, nor by innumerable armies of tyrants leagued against them, andyet of themsel"es stop at the "oice of the la& if then they do not reach the heights of

their destiny it can only be the fault of those ho go"ern.

%gain, it may be said, that to lo"e !ustice and equality the people need no great effort of

"irtue& it is sufficient that they lo"e themsel"es....

7@



If "irtue be the spring of a popular go"ernment in times of peace, the spring of that

go"ernment during a re"olution is "irtue combined ith terror/ "irtue, ithout hich

terror is destructi"e& terror, ithout hich "irtue is impotent. Terror is only !ustice prompt, se"ere and infle)ible& it is then an emanation of "irtue& it is less a distinct

principle than a natural consequence of the general principle of democracy, applied to the

most pressing ants of the country.

It has been said that terror is the spring of despotic go"ernment. <oes yours thenresemble despotism? Bes, as the steel that glistens in the hands of the heroes of liberty

resembles the sord ith hich the satellites of tyranny are armed. 9et the despot go"ern

by terror his debased sub!ects& he is right as a despot/ conquer by terror the enemies ofliberty and you ill be right as founders of the republic. The go"ernment in a re"olution

is the despotism of liberty against tyranny. Is force only intended to protect crime? Is not

the lightning of hea"en made to blast "ice e)alted?

The la of self1preser"ation, ith e"ery being hether physical or moral, is the first la

of nature. rime butchers innocence to secure a throne, and innocence struggles ith all

its might against the attempts of crime. If tyranny reigned one single day not a patriotould sur"i"e it. #o long yet ill the madness of despots be called !ustice, and the

!ustice of the people barbarity or rebellion? 1 #o tenderly oppressors and ho se"erelythe oppressed are treated5 3othing more natural/ hoe"er does not abhor crime cannot

lo"e "irtue. Bet one or the other must be crushed. 9et mercy be shon the royalists

e)claim some men. 4ardon the "illains5 3o/ be merciful to innocence, pardon theunfortunate, sho compassion for human eakness.

The protection of go"ernment is only due to peaceable citi;ens& and all citi;ens in the

republic are republicans. The royalists, the conspirators, are strangers, or rather enemies.

Is not this dreadful contest, hich liberty maintains against tyranny, indi"isible? %re not

the internal enemies the allies of those in the e)terior? The assassins ho lay aste theinterior& the intriguers ho purchase the consciences of the delegates of the people/ the

traitors ho sell them& the mercenary libellists paid to dishonor the cause of the people, to

smother public "irtue, to fan the flame of ci"il discord, and bring about a political counterre"olution by means of a moral one& all these men, are they less culpable or less

dangerous than the tyrants hom they ser"e? . . .

To punish the oppressors of humanity is clemency& to forgi"e them is cruelty. The

se"erity of tyrants has barbarity for its principle& that of a republican go"ernment isfounded on beneficence. Therefore let him beare ho should dare to influence the

people by that terror hich is made only for their enemies5 9et him beare, ho,

regarding the ine"itable errors of ci"ism in the same light, ith the premeditated crimes

of perfidiousness, or the attempts of conspirators, suffers the dangerous intriguer toescape and pursues the peaceable citi;en5 <eath to the "illain ho dares abuse the sacred

name of liberty or the poerful arms intended for her defence, to carry mourning or death

to the patriotic heart....

7. O$ %&e J*%'+'ca%'o$ o+ Terror

7C



6ut, to found and consolidate democracy, to achie"e the peaceable reign of the

constitutional las, e must end the ar of liberty against tyranny and pass safely across

the storms of the re"olution/ such is the aim of the re"olutionary system that you ha"eenacted. Bour conduct, then, ought also to be regulated by the stormy circumstances in

hich the republic is placed& and the plan of your administration must result from the

spirit of the re"olutionary go"ernment combined ith the general principles ofdemocracy.

3o, hat is the fundamental principle of the democratic or popular go"ernment1that is,

the essential spring hich makes it mo"e? It is "irtue& I am speaking of the public "irtue

hich effected so many prodigies in -reece and Rome and hich ought to produce muchmore surprising ones in republican rance& of that "irtue hich is nothing other than the

lo"e of country and of its las.

6ut as the essence of the republic or of democracy is equality, it follos that the lo"e of

country necessarily includes the lo"e of equality.

It is also true that this sublime sentiment assumes a preference for the public interest o"ere"ery particular interest& hence the lo"e of country presupposes or produces all the"irtues/ for hat are they other than that spiritual strength hich renders one capable of

those sacrifices? %nd ho could the sla"e of a"arice or ambition, for e)ample, sacrifice

his idol to his country?

3ot only is "irtue the soul of democracy& it can e)ist only in that go"ernment ....

. . .

Republican "irtue can be considered in relation to the people and in relation to thego"ernment& it is necessary in both. When only the go"emment lacks "irtue, there

remains a resource in the peopleSs "irtue& but hen the people itself is corrupted, liberty is

already lost.

ortunately "irtue is natural to the people, notithstanding aristocratic pre!udices. %

nation is truly corrupted hen, ha"ing by degrees lost its character and its liberty, it passes from democracy to aristocracy or to monarchy& that is the decrepitude and death of

the body politic....

6ut hen, by prodigious efforts of courage and reason, a people breaks the chains of

despotism to make them into trophies of liberty& hen by the force of its moraltemperament it comes, as it ere, out of the arms of the death, to recapture all the "igor

of youth& hen by tums it is sensiti"e and proud, intrepid and docile, and can be stopped

neither by impregnable ramparts nor by the innumerable ammies of the tyrants armedagainst it, but stops of itself upon confronting the laSs image& then if it does not climb

rapidly to the summit of its destinies, this can only be the fault of those ho go"ern it.

. . .

rom all this let us deduce a great truth/ the characteristic of popular go"ernment is

confidence in the people and se"erity toards itself.

7D



The hole de"elopment of our theory ould end here if you had only to pilot the "essel

of the Republic through calm aters& but the tempest roars, and the re"olution imposes

on you another task.

This great purity of the rench re"olutionSs basis, the "ery sublimity of its ob!ecti"e, is precisely hat causes both our strength and our eakness. 8ur strength, because it gi"es

to us truthSs ascendancy o"er imposture, and the rights of the public interest o"er pri"ate

interests& our eakness, because it rallies all "icious men against us, all those ho in theirhearts contemplated despoiling the people and all those ho intend to let it be despoiled

ith impunity, both those ho ha"e re!ected freedom as a personal calamity and those

ho ha"e embraced the re"olution as a career and the Republic as prey. #ence thedefection of so many ambitious or greedy men ho since the point of departure ha"e

abandoned us along the ay because they did not begin the !ourney ith the same

destination in "ie. The to opposing spirits that ha"e been represented in a struggle to

rule nature might be said to be fighting in this great period of human history to fi)irre"ocably the orldSs destinies, and rance is the scene of this fearful combat. Without,

all the tyrants encircle you& ithin, all tyrannySs friends conspire& they ill conspire until

hope is rested from crime. We must smother the internal and e)ternal enemies of theRepublic or perish ith it& no in this situation, the first ma)im of your policy ought to

be to lead the people by reason and the peopleSs enemies by terror.

If the spring of popular go"ernment in time of peace is "irtue, the springs of popular

go"ernment in re"olution are at once virtue and terror "irtue, ithout hich terror isfatal& terror, ithout hich "irtue is poerless. Terror is nothing other than !ustice,

prompt, se"ere, infle)ible& it is therefore an emanation of "irtue& it is not so much a

special principle as it is a consequence of the general principle of democracy applied to

our countrySs most urgent needs.

It has been said that terror is the principle of despotic go"ernment. <oes your go"ernmenttherefore resemble despotism? Bes, as the sord that gleams in the hands of the heroes of

liberty resembles that ith hich the henchmen of tyranny are armed. 9et the despot

go"ern by terror his brutali;ed sub!ects& he is right, as a despot. 0ubdue by terror theenemies of liberty, and you ill be right, as founders of the Republic. The go"ernment of

the re"olution is libertySs despotism against tyranny. Is force made only to protect crime?

%nd is the thunderbolt not destined to strike the heads of the proud?

. . .

. . . Indulgence for the royalists, cry certain men, mercy for the "illains5 3o5 mercy forthe innocent, mercy for the eak, mercy for the unfortunate, mercy for humanity.

0ociety oes protection only to peaceable citi;ens& the only citi;ens in the Republic are

the republicans. or it, the royalists, the conspirators are only strangers or, rather,

enemies. This terrible ar aged by liberty against tyranny1 is it not indi"isible? %re the

enemies ithin not the allies of the enemies ithout? The assassins ho tear our countryapart, the intriguers ho buy the consciences that hold the peopleSs mandate& the traitors

ho sell them& the mercenary pamphleteers hired to dishonor the peopleSs cause, to kill

public "irtue, to stir up the fire of ci"il discord, and to prepare political counterre"olution

7G



by moral counterre"olution1are all those men less guilty or less dangerous than the

tyrants hom they ser"e?

4.O$ %&e Fe*%'3a) o+ %&e S(re5e !e'$6

+a)imilien Robespierre L*C>D1*CG=M as one of the leaders and orators of the rench

Re"olution of *CDG, best knon for his in"ol"ement in the Reign of Terror that folloed.

%s a young man, he studied la and had a reputation for honesty and compassion. #e

sought to abolish the death penalty and refused to pronounce a required death sentenceafter becoming a !udge.

6ut as the re"olution approached, Robespierre became head of the poerful (acobin

lub, a radical group ad"ocating e)ile or death for ranceSs nobility. In *CG7, after 4aris

mobs stormed the palace of the Tuileries and dethroned ing 9ouis NI and Uueen+arie %ntoinette, Robespierre helped organi;e the ne re"olutionary go"erning body,

the ommune of 4aris.

Robespierre no de"eloped great lo"e for poer along ith a reputation for intolerance,self1righteousness and cruelty.

#e used his considerable oratory skills to successfully demand the e)ecution of the king

and queen, saying 9ouis NI Vmust die that the country may li"e.V In (anuary *CG:, the

king as e)ecuted, folloed ten months later by the queen.

The ommittee of 4ublic 0afety then took o"er the rule of rance and began a three yearReign of Terror during hich it brutally put don royalist uprisings, conducted

holesale murder of families ith royal ancestry and sent thousands to the guillotines

ithout proper trials.

%t one point during the Reign of Terror, Robespierre sent an atheist, (acques1Rene#ebert, to the guillotine after #ebert had closed the atholic churches and started pagan1

style orship of the goddess of Reason. Robespierre then introduced the Reign of irtue

and the esti"al of the 0upreme 6eing, from hich the speech belo is taken.

3ot long after this speech, Robespierre himself as arrested by his political enemies. %

rescue attempt folloed, during hich part of his !a as shot off. 8n (uly 7D, *CG=,Robespierre and *G of his comrades ere guillotined. %fter his death, the Reign of Terror

subsided, ith Robespierre subsequently blamed for much of its horrors.

The day fore"er fortunate has arri"ed, hich the rench people ha"e consecrated to the

0upreme 6eing. 3e"er has the orld hich #e created offered to #im a spectacle so

orthy of #is notice. #e has seen reigning on the earth tyranny, crime, and imposture.

:H



#e sees at this moment a hole nation, grappling ith all the oppressions of the human

race, suspend the course of its heroic labors to ele"ate its thoughts and "os toard the

great 6eing ho has gi"en it the mission it has undertaken and the strength to accomplishit.

Is it not #e hose immortal hand, engra"ing on the heart of man the code of !ustice andequality, has ritten there the death sentence of tyrants? Is it not #e ho, from the

beginning of time, decreed for all the ages and for all peoples liberty, good faith, and !ustice?

#e did not create kings to de"our the human race. #e did not create priests to harness us,

like "ile animals, to the chariots of kings and to gi"e to the orld e)amples of baseness, pride, perfidy, a"arice, debauchery, and falsehood. #e created the uni"erse to proclaim

#is poer. #e created men to help each other, to lo"e each other mutually, and to attain

to happiness by the ay of "irtue.

It is #e ho implanted in the breast of the triumphant oppressor remorse and terror, andin the heart of the oppressed and innocent calmness and fortitude. It is #e ho impels the

!ust man to hate the e"il one, and the e"il man to respect the !ust one. It is #e ho adorns

ith modesty the bro of beauty, to make it yet more beautiful. It is #e ho makes the

motherSs heart beat ith tenderness and !oy. It is #e ho bathes ith delicious tears theeyes of the son pressed to the bosom of his mother. It is #e ho silences the most

imperious and tender passions before the sublime lo"e of the fatherland. It is #e ho has

co"ered nature ith charms, riches, and ma!esty. %ll that is good is #is ork, or is#imself. $"il belongs to the depra"ed man ho oppresses his fello man or suffers him

to be oppressed.

The %uthor of 3ature has bound all mortals by a boundless chain of lo"e and happiness.4erish the tyrants ho ha"e dared to break it5

Republican renchmen, it is yours to purify the earth hich they ha"e soiled, and to

recall to it the !ustice that they ha"e banished5 9iberty and "irtue together came from the

breast of <i"inity. 3either can abide ith mankind ithout the other.

8 generous 4eople, ould you triumph o"er all your enemies? 4ractice !ustice, andrender the <i"inity the only orship orthy of #im. 8 4eople, let us deli"er oursel"es

today, under #is auspices, to the !ust transports of a pure festi"ity. Tomorro e shall

return to the combat ith "ice and tyrants. We shall gi"e to the orld the e)ample of

republican "irtues. %nd that ill be to honor #im still.

The monster hich the genius of kings had "omited o"er rance has gone back into

nothingness. +ay all the crimes and all the misfortunes of the orld disappear ith it5

%rmed in turn ith the daggers of fanaticism and the poisons of atheism, kings ha"ealays conspired to assassinate humanity. If they are able no longer to disfigure <i"inity

by superstition, to associate it ith their crimes, they try to banish it from the earth, so

that they may reign there alone ith crime.

:*



8 4eople, fear no more their sacrilegious plots5 They can no more snatch the orld from

the breast of its %uthor than remorse from their on hearts. Fnfortunate ones, uplift your

eyes toard hea"en5 #eroes of the fatherland, your generous de"otion is not a brilliantmadness. If the satellites of tyranny can assassinate you, it is not in their poer entirely to

destroy you. +an, hoe"er thou mayest be, thou canst still concei"e high thoughts for

thyself. Thou canst bind thy fleeting life to -od, and to immortality. 9et nature sei;eagain all her splendor, and isdom all her empire5 The 0upreme 6eing has not been

annihilated.

It is isdom abo"e all that our guilty enemies ould dri"e from the republic. To isdom

alone it is gi"en to strengthen the prosperity of empires. It is for her to guarantee to us thereards of our courage. 9et us associate isdom, then, ith all our enterprises. 9et us be

gra"e and discreet in all our deliberations, as men ho are pro"iding for the interests of

the orld. 9et us be ardent and obstinate in our anger against conspiring tyrants,imperturbable in dangers, patient in labors, terrible in striking back, modest and "igilant

in successes. 9et us be generous toard the good, compassionate ith the unfortunate,

ine)orable ith the e"il, !ust toard e"ery one. 9et us not count on an unmi)ed prosperity, and on triumphs ithout attacks, nor on all that depends on fortune or the

per"ersity of others. 0ole, but infallible guarantors of our independence, let us crush the

impious league of kings by the grandeur of our character, e"en more than by the strength

of our arms.

renchmen, you ar against kings& you are therefore orthy to honor <i"inity. 6eing of

6eings, %uthor of 3ature, the brutali;ed sla"e, the "ile instrument of despotism, the

perfidious and cruel aristocrat, outrages Thee by his "ery in"ocation of Thy name. 6ut

the defenders of liberty can gi"e themsel"es up to Thee, and rest ith confidence uponThy paternal bosom. 6eing of 6eings, e need not offer to Thee un!ust prayers. Thou

knoest Thy creatures, proceeding from Thy hands. Their needs do not escape Thynotice, more than their secret thoughts. #atred of bad faith and tyranny burns in ourhearts, ith lo"e of !ustice and the fatherland. 8ur blood flos for the cause of humanity.

6ehold our prayer. 6ehold our sacrifices. 6ehold the orship e offer Thee.

Robespierre 1 *CG=

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READINGS a to C Rousseau, Montesquieu Robes Pierre) (2)