England and Enlightenment

Paul Rahe has a fascinating article in the Summer 2004 issue of the Wilson Quarterly , in which he discusses the assessments of 18th-century world order that were offered by Voltaire and Montesquieu. Along the way, he suggests a connection between French interest in the English constitution and the development of the philosophes’ critique of the ancien regime. And, he suggests that French interest in England was provoked by the English-led victory over France at the battle of Blenheim in 1704. The battle was provoked, by the way, by Louis XIV’s intention to establish French hegemony over the Holy Roman Empire, upsetting the European balance of power and displacing the Hapsburgs from control of the Empire.

Prior to that battle, the French showed little or no interest in England. Louis XIV is said to have asked an English ambassador if England had ever produced any writers of note, apparently ignorant of Shakespeare and Milton, to name but two. After the Duke of Marlborough led England to victory at Blenheim, however, “attitudes changed, and young Frenchmen of penetrating intelligence thought it necessary to read about, and perhaps even visit the country that had put together, funded, and led the coalition that had inflicted so signal a defeat on the most magnificent of their kings.”

One of the earliest French visitors to England was Voltair, who spent his time dining with the likes of Alexander Pope and Jonathan Swift, as well as politicians, including George II shortly after his coronation. Voltaire wrote his impressions of England in 25 “Philosophical Letters,” a kind of Tocquevillian sociology of old England.

Seven of Voltaire’s letters are on religious subjects. He attributed English prosperity to their religious devotion ?Enot their devotion to Christianity, but their common, ecumenical devotion to Mammon: At the Royal-Exchange, “you will see the representatives of all the nations assembled for the benefit of mankind. There the Jew, the Mohametan, and the Christian transact together as tho’ they all profess’d the same religion, and give the name of Infidel to none but bankrupts. There the Presbyterian confides in the Anabaptist, and the Anglican depends on the Quaker’s word. At the breaking up of this pacific and free assembly, some withdraw to the synagogue, and others to take a glass. This man goes and is baptiz’d in a great tub, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. That man has his son’s foreskin cut off, whilst a set of Hebrew words (quite unintelligible to him) are mumbled over his child. Others retire to their churches, and then wait for the inspiration of heaven with their hats on, and all are satisfied.” Rahe suggests that no French Catholic could have missed the critical edge of Voltaire’s conclusion: “If one religion only were allowed in England, there would be reason to fear despotism; if there were but two, the people wou’d cut one another’s throats; but as there are 30, they all live happy and in peace.”

French authorities certainly did not miss the critical edge. The book was lacerated and burned, on order of the parlement of Paris, on June 10, 1734. Voltaire escaped laceration and burning by fleeing to Champagne, where he lived for the next 15 years exiled in the country house of his mistress.

Rahe’s discussion of Montesquieu is equally excellent. But enough.