THE CENTRAL PROPOSITION of this chapter, that in the eighteenth century the West experienced a “recovery of nerve,” an unprecedented sense of confidence of which the Enlightenment was expression, consequence, and partly the cause, rests of course on the aggregate of my reading. This includes biographies of, and monographs on, the philosophes in all countries, as well as their collected correspondence [I, 429–49]. Such journals as James Boswell’s, beginning with Boswell’s London Journal, 1762–1763, ed. Frederick A. Pottle (1951), and its sequels, and E.-J.-F. Barbier: Journal historique et anecdotique du règne de Louis XV, ed. A. de la Villegille, 4 vols. (1847–56) [I, 435], have been invaluable. I have also relied on such modern biographies as J. H. Plumb: Sir Robert Walpole, 2 vols. so far (1956, 1960), which takes Walpole’s career to 1734. A fresh, interesting approach through the social sciences has been offered by Arthur M. Wilson: “The Philosophes in the light of present-day theories of modernization,” VS, LVIII (1967), 1893–1913.
Books on social history exist in profusion; I can mention only a few. For England, see A. R. Humphreys: The Augustan World: Society, Thought, and Letters in Eighteenth Century England (1954), which intelligently offers a full set of “reading lists” (261–9). The best books on the change in the English temper are Charles Wilson: England’s Apprenticeship, 1603–1763 (1965), and Asa Briggs: The Age of Improvement, 1783–1867 (1959), both fine, unorthodox general histories; the “Introduction” to the latter supplies splendid instances of the English recovery of nerve. G. M. Trevelyan: Illustrated English Social History, III, The Eighteenth Century (edn. 1951), though justly celebrated for its lucidity, is relatively superficial. Dorothy Marshall: English People in the Eighteenth Century (1956), has some instructive materials on food riots and rural discontent. The well-known collection of essays, Johnson’s England: An Account of the Life and Manners of his Age, 2 vols. (1933), ed. A. S. Turberville [I, 432], deserves to be consulted. Turberville’s own English Men and Manners in the 18th Century (2d edn., 1929), is amusing, full of detail, but hardly searching. In contrast, Dorothy George: London Life in the Eighteenth Century (2d edn., 1930), and her brief set of B.B.C. lectures, England in Transition: Life and Work in the Eighteenth Century (Penguin edn., 1953), are tough-minded and informative, though in some respects now somewhat out of date. Max Beloff: Public Order and Popular Disturbances, 1660–1714 (1938), is a pioneering essay in the social history of the poor. G. E. Mingay skillfully analyzes property and social relations in English Landed Society in the Eighteenth Century (1963), as does also J. D. Chambers and Mingay: The Agricultural Revolution, 1750–1880 (1966). (See also below, 577–8, for the Industrial Revolution in England.)
French society, for all the abundance of monographs, still needs further study. Among general histories of France, I found chaps. xi and xii of Georges Duby and Robert Mandrou’s History of French Civilization from the Year 1000 to the Present (1958; tr. James Blakely Atkinson, 1964),1 a characteristic product of the sixième section, exceptionally rich in insights. Extensive biographies of philosophes to which I have alluded, like, say, Desnoiresterres’s exhaustive eight-volume study of Voltaire, Voltaire et la société française au XVIIIe siècle (1867–76), [I, 435], remain informative for all their relative antiquity. Typical of superficial “social” history is Charles Kunstler: La vie quotidienne sous Louis XV (1953). Far better are the detailed studies of individual cities, like Louis Trénard’s superb Lyon, de l’Encyclopédie au Préromantisme, 2 vols. (1958), immensely rich in relevant detail. Pierre Goubert: Beauvais et le Beauvaisis de 1600 à 1730, 2 vols. (1960), is a magnificent social history in depth of a small area, partly relevant to this chapter. Franklin L. Ford: Strasbourg in Transition, 1648–1789 (1958), is modern social history at its best. For the French aristocracy, Henri Carré: La noblesse de France et l’opinion publique au XVIIIe siècle (1920) remains very useful; J. McManners: “France,” in A. Goodwin: The European Nobility in the Eighteenth Century (1953), is lucid. I have already singled out McManners: French Ecclesiastical Society Under the Ancien Regime (1960), a brilliant study of eighteenth-century Angers, for praise [I, 545]. A handful of specialized monographs, like Robert Forster: The Nobility of Toulouse in the Eighteenth Century: A Social and Economic Study (1960) offer insights into social morale far beyond their announced subject. Constantia Maxwell: The English Traveller in France, 1698–1815 (1932) collects some valuable foreign impressions. Conservative attempts at rescuing the Ancien Régime, notably Pierre Gaxotte: Le siècle de Louis XV (edn. 1933), and Franz Funck-Brentano: The Old Regime in France (1926; tr. Herbert Wilson, 1929), offer some slight corrective to radical denunciations of the Old Regime, and have much information, but they say more about the French Right in the Third Republic than about the events that led to the First Republic.
France was, of course, a rural country, and no generalization about a French recovery of nerve can omit the peasants. Here we have at least two superb works: Marc Bloch’s Les caractères originaux de l’histoire rurale française (1931; edn. 1952–6, 2 vols., with a supplement by Robert Dauvergne), and Georges Lefebvre’s vast authoritative dissertation, Les paysans du Nord pendant la Révolution (1924). Bloch’s work is now available in a translation by Janet Sondheimer (1966). See also Elinor Barber: The Bourgeoisie in 18th Century France (1955), [I, 434]. The social historian of eighteenth-century France has at his disposal a library of monographs compiled by A. Babeau, books now old but filled with information: Le village sous l’ancien régime (1891), La ville sous l’ancien régime, 2 vols. (2d edn., 1884), La vie rurale sous l’ancien régime (1885), Les bourgeois d’autrefois (1886)—to mention only the four best known. Douglas Dakin: Turgot and the Ancien Regime in France (1939), [I, 437] has a fascinating analysis of a province and its government in the mid-eighteenth century. I have used other books as well, but I agree with Alfred Cobban that Philippe Sagnac’s well-known La formation de la société française moderne, 2 vols. (1945–6), shows by its very generality of treatment, that “the fundamental research has still not been done, to provide a satisfactory synthesis.” (Cobban: A History of Modern France, I, Old Regime and Revolution, 1715–1799 [1957], 268, itself an authoritative survey.)2
If there is incomplete knowledge of eighteenth-century French society, the societies of the German states, large and small, remain for the most part unexplored; what we mainly have are chatty volumes of court reminiscences. Hence Karl Biedermann’s old Deutschland im achtzehnten Jahrhundert, 2 vols. in 4 (1854–80), W. H. Bruford: Germany in the Eighteenth Century (1935), Culture and Society in Classical Weimar, 1775–1806 (1962), and Hajo Holborn: A History of Modern Germany, 1648–1840 (1963), [all I, 440], remain indispensable. There is much of value in Otto Hintze: Die Hohenzollern und ihr Werk (1915), critical despite its official character and very shrewd on Frederick II’s “state socialism.” Hans Gerth: Die sozialgeschichtliche Lage der bürgerlichen Intelligenz um die Wende des 18. Jahrhunderts (1935) is a pioneering essay in a neglected field. H. Brunschwig: La Crise de l’état Prussien à la fin du XVIIIe siècle et la genèse de la mentalité romantique (1947) is often brilliant but also tendentious, pointing (doubtless not without justice) to perpetual crisis and the eventual “betrayal” of their vocation by the ruling groups; its bibliography is discriminating. Heinrich Voelcker, ed.: Die Stadt Goethes: Frankfurt am Main im 18. Jahrhundert (1932) has a number of informative essays on social customs. Rudolf Stadelmann and Wolfram Fischer have ventured into a relatively unexplored area with their modern sociological study, Die Bildungswelt des deutschen Handwerkers um 1800: Studien zur Soziologie des Kleinbürgers im Zeitalter Goethes (1955); more such studies are badly needed.3
For Italy consult the volumes by Franco Valsecchi, L’Italia nel settecento dal 1714 al 1788 (1959), Mario Fubini, ed.: La cultura illuminista in Italia (1957), and Franco Venturi, ed.: Illuministi Italiani, III (1958), and V (1962), [all I, 441], and VII (1965). While Venturi’s magisterial synthesis, Settecento riformatore, Da Muratori a Beccaria (1969), reached me too late to affect this volume, I can safely predict that it will affect all future attempts to write the social-intellectual history of eighteenth-century Italy.
The social history of the American colonies has been fully explored, often, though by no means always, in antiquarian and trivial ways. L. B. Wright: The Cultural Life of the American Colonies, 1607–1763 (1957), [I, 442], is a reliable summary with an eminently serviceable bibliography; Carl Bridenbaugh has put the profession in his debt with a collection of informative studies, most notably, Cities in the Wilderness: The First Century of Urban Life in America, 1625–1742 (2d edn., 1955), Cities in Revolt: Urban Life in America, 1743–1776 (1955), and Rebels and Gentlemen: Philadelphia in the Age of Franklin (1942).
The question of the recovery of nerve—how real, how deep, how widespread—is of course intimately related to the question of the industrial revolution, and the associated question of living standards in the eighteenth century. Ever since Friedrich Engels exposed the misery of the poor in The Conditions of the Working Class in England in 1844 (1845; trs. and eds. W. O. Henderson and W. H. Chaloner, 1958), social historians—not all of them socialists—have generally portrayed the worker as victim, while economic historians have on the whole pointed to the industrial revolution as an unprecedented blessing. Indeed, the very extent and nature of the industrial revolution remain a matter of relatively heated argument, though, it seems, a consensus is emerging. As Paul Mantoux points out, it was Karl Marx, in volume I of Kapital, who first offered a “systematic description” of the “industrielle Revolution” (see Mantoux: The Industrial Revolution in the Eighteenth Century: An Outline of the Beginnings of the Modern Factory System [2d. edn., 1927; tr. Marjorie Vernon, 1928], itself a learned and reasonable contribution to the great debate). The term entered the consciousness of historians largely through the celebrated set of lectures by Arnold Toynbee, Lectures on the Industrial Revolution in England, published posthumously in 1884. For Toynbee, the revolution began in the 1760s and was indeed a revolution. In our century, the revisionists began to question both his claims: thus John U. Nef, in Industry and Government in France and England, 1540–1640 (1940), in some chapters of Cultural Foundations of Industrial Civilization (1958), and in a series of articles, notably “A Comparison of Industrial Growth in France and England from 1540 to 1640,” Journal of Political Economy, XLIV, 3 (February 1936), 643–66, and “The Industrial Revolution Reconsidered,” Journal of Economic History, III, 1 (May 1943), 1–31, argued that there was no revolutionary change in the eighteenth century, and that if there was a revolution at all, it must be seen in an earlier period, at the end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century. At the other extreme, J. H. Clapham has argued that the revolution was far from complete in the nineteenth century (An Economic History of Modern Britain, 3 vols. [1932–9]). The revisionists have usefully pointed to the inevitable complexities of industrial development, and the dangers of uncritically employing general names, but they have not, in my judgment, disproved the Marx-Toynbee contention that there was a revolutionary change in the economic sphere—the employment of steam power, the organization of labor and industry, the conscious cumulation of invention, associated changes in agriculture, public administration, health, and so forth—in England after the mid-eighteenth century. Indeed, recent historians have returned to the old verities. With deliberate naïveté, T. S. Ashton entitled his masterly popularization The Industrial Revolution, 1760–1830 (1948), while L. S. Presnell has edited a series of papers, Studies in the Industrial Revolution (1960). Phyllis Deane has summarized the debate with admirable lucidity, and remained with the idea of a revolution in The First Industrial Revolution (1965), an extremely helpful survey on which I have relied. W. W. Rostow’s original The Stages of Economic Growth (1960), with its now famous though facile notion of “take-off,” supports this new consensus. So do the various contributors to the massive sixth volume (in two parts) of The Cambridge Economic History of Europe, eds. H. J. Habbakuk and M. Postan (1965); I shall note some individual contributions to these volumes in the course of this essay. The most substantial and adventurous contribution to the work is David S. Landes: “Technological Change and Development in Western Europe, 1750–1914,” 274–601, which fortunately begins in the mid-eighteenth century.
Industrial change in eighteenth-century Scotland is of particular interest in view of the brilliant Scottish Enlightenment that flourished in its midst. See T. C. Smout: Scottish Trade on the Eve of Union, 1660–1707 (1963), for the earlier period, and for the eighteenth century, two books by Henry Hamilton: An Economic History of Scotland in the Eighteenth Century (1963), and the older but still valuable The Industrial Revolution in Scotland (1932).
If there was a revolution, was it a good thing? The suffering of the many, the brutality of masters to men and women and children, the dislocation of rural poor, the rise of new diseases incident on crowding—all this remains real enough and cannot be apologized away. But it may have received excessively emotional attention, notably in the writings of J. S. and B. Hammond, passionate, informed, but rather one-sided: see their The Village Labourer, 1760–1832 (1911), The Skilled Labourer, 1760–1832 (1919), The Town Labourer, 1760–1832 (1920), and The Rise of Modern Industry (1925). J. S. Hammond has explicitly defended the views advanced in these volumes in “The Industrial Revolution and Discontent,” Economic History Review, II, 2 (1930), 215–28. The Hammonds’ indictment has had enormous influence, and is not without justice; it has retained enough validity to be quoted with approval by such critics as T. S. Ashton. In recent years, radical English historians have in fact revived the Hammond thesis, contradicting Ashton, with impressive documentation. See above all Eric J. Hobsbawm: “The British Standard of Living, 1790–1850,” Economic History Review (second series), X, 1 (1957), 46–61. A series of revisionist essays, Capitalism and the Historians (1954), ed. F. A. Hayek, has helped to right the balance, but badly overstates the case for capitalism and thus introduces an imbalance of its own. Of more solid value and less polemical are the magisterial works of T. S. Ashton: (with J. Sykes), The Coal Industry of the Eighteenth Century (1929); by himself, Iron and Steel in the Industrial Revolution (2d edn., 1951); An Economic History of England, The Eighteenth Century (1955); “The Standard of Life of Workers in England, 1790–1830,” Journal of Economic History, Supplement IX (1949), 19–38. Ashton has drawn on E. W. Gilboy: Wages in Eighteenth-Century England (1934), which demonstrates a surprising stability of wages. Phyllis Deane’s summary (chap. xv of First Industrial Revolution) is lucid, as usual; her bibliography lists other specialized articles. An interesting and by no means unimportant sidelight on the issue of economic progress is revealed by the growing failure of traditional gilds to control their members; see J. R. Kellett: “The Breakdown of Gild and Corporation Control Over the Handicraft and Retail Trade in London,” Economic History Review (second series), X, 3 (1958), 381–94. What survives, I think, is the portrait I have briefly sketched in my text: widespread suffering but ultimate amelioration, and vast differences among groups, crafts, and cities. On the whole, there was spectacular long-range progress, achieved at enormous cost.
Strict economic history is not the only way to answer the riddle of progress. Historians of social structure have much to contribute. For England, the works of George Rudé, who has made the “mob” his own, is of decisive importance. For a general statement see his “The Study of Popular Disturbances in the ‘Pre-Industrial’ Age,” Historical Studies [Melbourne], X, 40 (May 1963), 457–69. Rudé’s Wilkes and Liberty (1962) is exceptionally well-supplied with material on social groupings and social unrest in mid-eighteenth century England. See also his “ ‘Mother Gin’ and the London Riots of 1736,” The Guildhall Miscellany, No. X (September 1959); “The London ‘Mob’ of the Eighteenth Century,” The Historical Journal, II, 1 (April 1959), 1–18. For corroborating evidence, E. J. Hobsbawm: “The Machine Breakers,” Past and Present, No. 1 (February 1952), 57–70, and R. B. Rose: “Eighteenth Century Price Riots and Public Policy in England,” International Review of Social History, VI, part 2 (1961), 277–92, are of value. R. W. Wearmouth: Methodism and the Common People of the Eighteenth Century (1945) has, in addition to a striking analysis of the relation of religion to social policy in England, good material on riots, especially in the provinces. Elie Halévy’s classic England in 1815 (1913, trs. E. I. Watkin and D. A. Barker, 2d edn., 1949), sets the riots in perspective. E. P. Thompson’s massive The Making of the English Working Class (1963), which, though mainly on the early nineteenth century, looks back at the eighteenth century often enough to be valuable to me here, is both learned and contentious. Its theme is the rise of working-class consciousness, the objective experience and subjective perceptions of English working men during the decisive decades of the industrial revolution. It is a vigorous specimen of radical English history; perhaps the most judicious appraisal I have seen is by R. K. Webb: The Massachusetts Review, VI, 1 (Autumn–Winter 1964–5), 202–8. The opening essays in E. J. Hobsbawm: Labouring Men: Studies in the History of Labour (1964), have controversial interpretations of the Luddites and on the social bearing of Methodism. See also R. K. Webb: Modern England from the 18th Century to the Present (1968), chaps. i-iii, a synthesis masquerading as a textbook; and Man Versus Society in 18th-Century Britain: Six Points of View, ed. James L. Clifford (1968), which contains essays of varying value; the first, by J. H. Plumb, “Political Man,” is particularly instructive.
Countries other than Great Britain cannot match its rate and intensity of change, and I have avoided the term “industrial revolution” when speaking of them. Still, there was drastic economic change and development. Henri Sée: La France économique et sociale au XVIIIe siècle (1925) is small but based on comprehensive knowledge and informed by a magnificent synthetic sense. See also the relevant chapters in his Histoire économique de la France, 2 vols. (1939). The painstaking writings of Ernest Labrousse and his students are justly famous for their authoritative character. Labrousse’s own survey, Esquisse du mouvement des prix et des révenus en France au XVIIIe siècle (1934) was the indispensable preliminary to his great analysis of the decline in French economic conditions before the Revolution: La crise de l’économie française à la fin de l’ancien régime et au début de la révolution (1944). Shelby McCloy registers French technical progress in his French Inventions of the Eighteenth Century (1952); Roland Mousnier’s lectures, Progrès scientifique et technique au XVIIIe siècle (1958), informal, rather fiercely anti-Marxist, and though comprehensively European devoting much space to France, is another testimony to progress in the midst of economic crisis. W. O. Henderson has devoted his attention to comparing British with continental trends; his Britain and Industrial Europe, 1750–1870 (1954), is a general comparative survey; more particular is “The Genesis of the Industrial Revolution in France and Germany in the 18th Century,” Kyklos, IX (1956), 190–207, but it must, by the nature of the case, confine itself to beginnings. Landes’s long article (and vast bibliography) cited above, 578, says the essential. On the decline of the reactionary gilds, see E. Martin Saint-Léon: Histoire des corporations de métiers (1897).
In its early sections, George Rudé’s The Crowd in the French Revolution (1959) supplies a wealth of information in economical scope on urban riots and working-class conditions in general before the Revolution. Rudé has also dealt with grain riots in the time of Turgot’s ministry, “La taxation populaire de mai 1775 à Paris et dans la région parisienne,” Annales historiques de la révolution française, No. 143 (April–June 1956), 139–79. Finally, since the Huguenots remained a significant element in French culture (as well as the French economy) after their “expulsion” in 1685, their eighteenth-century history in France has meaning for the French “recovery of nerve.” See Warren C. Scoville: The Persecution of Huguenots and French Economic Development, 1680–1720 (1960).
The most useful general survey of German economic history I have found is Friedrich Karl Lütge: Deutsche Sozial- und Wirtschaftsgeschichte: Ein Überblick (2d edn., 1960). W. O. Henderson has studied The State and the Industrial Revolution in Prussia, 1740–1870 (1958); its early chapters are relevant here. See also his Studies in the Economic Policy of Frederick the Great (1963), and his volume on the relation of Britain to Europe (cited above, 581). Friedrich Schnabel’s magisterial Deutsche Geschichte im neunzehnten Jahrhundert, III, Erfahrungswissenschaften und Technik (1934), glances back at the eighteenth century, especially in section IV, “Die Technik.” Gustav Schmoller’s old articles, “Studien über die wirtschaftliche Politik Friedrichs des Grossen und Preussen überhaupt, 1680–1786,” Schmollers Jahrbuch, VIII (1884), 1–61, 345–421, 999–1091, for all their age, remain informative.
For American economic history in the eighteenth century see chaps. i, iii, and iv in Harold F. Williamson, ed.: The Growth of the American Economy (1944); Victor S. Clark: History of Manufactures in the U.S., 1607–1860, 3 vols. (1929); J. R. Commons, ed.: The History of Labour in the U.S., I (1936); I and II of The Economic History of the United States, 9 vols., eds. Davis et al.; J. I. Falconer: History of Agriculture in the United States Before 1860 (1925); Richard B. Morris: “Labor and Mercantilism in The Revolutionary Era,” in Morris, ed.: Era of the American Revolution (1939); Arthur M. Schlesinger’s classic The Colonial Merchants and the American Revolution (1918); and Stuart Bruchey: The Roots of American Economic Growth, 1607–1861: An Essay in Social Causation (1965).
For Italy in this period see Antonio Fossati: Lavoro e produzione in Italia dalla meta del secolo XVIII alla secondo guerra mondiale (1951), especially chaps. i and ii; Luigi Dal Pane: Storia del Lavoro in Italia dagli inizi del secolo XVIII al 1815 (1944); Arrigo Serpieri: L’Agricoltura nell’economia della nazione (1940); and G. Prato: Problemi monetari e bancari nei secoli XVII e XVIII (1916).
Every history that touches in any way on social questions reports continuing brutal exploitation, misery, and occasional uprisings. There were serf-risings in eighteenth-century Bohemia (H. G. Schenk: “Austria,” in Godwin: European Nobility, 107); in Sweden wages were systematically depressed by legislation (Michael Roberts: “Sweden,” in ibid., 142); while B. J. Hovde reports the clashes of class against class in the same country in The Scandinavian Countries, 1720–1865, I (1948), 179–80. A good discussion of the desperate lives of the poor in one big city—Prague—their sense of being trapped, for instance, in times of epidemic, when those better off could leave the infected areas, is Oskar Schürer: Prag: Kultur, Kunst, Geschichte (1930), 186, 191, 218.
Still, although evidence remains rather inconclusive, it seems plausible that there were many among the poor, especially among the self-respecting artisans, who had a sense of real possibilities in their time. Certainly their political activities suggest something other than passive despair. A mere look at histories of earlier periods shows how far the eighteenth century had progressed. (To mention only two books: Marc Bloch’s Feudal Society, 2 vols. [1939–40; tr. L. A. Manyon, 1961], [I, 500], I, 98–9, 116 ff. has a brilliant analysis of the precariousness of medieval life; while Roland Mousnier discusses the famine cycles of the seventeenth century in his synthetic Les XVIe et XVIIe siècles: Les progrès de la civilisation européenne et le déclin de l’orient, 1492–1715 [1954], 145–51, although the final word on these cycles has not yet been said.)
In conclusion I mention some special topics discussed in this section. For Bacon and Descartes, see the bibliographical entries in I, 528–9. The saying, “Man is the architect of his fortune,” is analyzed in Rexmond C. Cochrane: “Francis Bacon and the Architect of Fortune,” Studies in the Renaissance, V (1958), 176–95. Franklin’s scientific optimism is well accounted for in Brooke Hindle: The Pursuit of Science in Revolutionary America, 1735–1789 (1956). Raymond Trousson: Le Thème de Prométhée dans la littérature européenne, 2 vols. (1964), is a fascinating survey of the Prometheus theme; chaps. v and vi are applicable here, to which should be added Dora and Erwin Panofsky: Pandora’s Box (1956). On the striking increase in the taking out of patents, see the figures in Archibald and Nan L. Clow: The Chemical Revolution: A Contribution to Social Technology (1952), 2–3; Watt and his role are discussed in F. J. Forbes: “Power to 1850,” in Charles Singer et al., eds.: A History of Technology, IV, The Industrial Revolution, c. 1750–c. 1850 (1958), 148–67; H. W. Dickinson: “The Steam-Engine to 1830,” in ibid., 168–98; Dickinson: James Watt: Craftsman and Engineer (1936); and Charles C. Gillispie, in his persuasive “Introduction” to A Diderot Pictorial Encyclopedia of Trades and Industry, 2 vols. (1959), xi–xxx, which emphasizes the part steam power must play in our definition of “industrial revolution.” For Diderot’s “Baconianism” see Herbert Dieckmann: “The Influence of Francis Bacon on Diderot’s ‘Interprétation de la nature,’ ” Romanic Review, XXXIV, 4 (December 1943), 303–30. In general, the volume of Charles Singer’s History of Technology, just mentioned, has a number of informative brief articles on a variety of pertinent subjects. I have also made use of Abbott Payson Usher’s well-known A History of Mechanical Inventions (2d edn. 1954), passim, but especially chaps. xii, xiii, and xiv, dealing with precision instruments, power, and machine tools. Technology is of vital importance to my case since, clearly enough, the technological revolution was the agent through which scientific discoveries were translated into the recovery of nerve.
Since the history of medicine has aroused the interest of excellent scholars, and since its records are relatively ample, the supply of general surveys and specialized monographs is impressive. Among several histories of medicine, I have found Richard H. Shryock’s lively and scholarly interpretation, The Development of Modern Medicine: An Interpretation of the Social and Scientific Factors Involved (1947) most congenial and most helpful. Shryock’s lectures, Medicine and Society in America: 1660–1860 (1962), are lucid and suggestive. There is a good brief discussion of medicine in early America in Bridenbaugh: Cities in Revolt (chap. v, section 8). Lester S. King’s The Medical World of the Eighteenth Century (1948) is a collection of separate essays, on medical ethics, on empirics and quacks, on the classification of diseases; it is especially good on Hermann Boerhaave. Boerhaave again appears briefly in King’s The Growth of Medical Thought (1963). G. A. Lindeboom: Hermann Boerhaave (1968), a fine study, came too late for me to utilize it in this book. There is much interesting information on Boerhaave in Haller’s diary; see Albrecht Hallers Tagebücher seiner Reisen nach Deutschland, Holland und England, 1723–27, ed. Ludwig Hirzel (1883). Henry E. Sigerist: The Great Doctors: A Biographical History of Medicine (1933) is, as its subtitle suggests, a collection of biographies chronologically arranged; they are slight. English medicine is adequately if briefly treated in Sir D’Arcy Power: “Medicine,” in Turberville, ed.: Johnson’s England, II, 265–86; for the all-important contribution of Dutch physicians to the diffusion of “Newtonian” medicine, see, in addition to King, Sigerist: “Hollands Bedeutung in der Entwicklung der Medizin,” Deutsche Medizinische Wochenschrift, LIV, 36 (September 7, 1928), 1489–92. German medicine is thoroughly treated in Alfons Fischer: Geschichte des deutschen Gesundheitswesens, 2 vols. (1933), a book that also deals with the philosophical basis and propagandistic expressions of eighteenth-century medical thought in the German-speaking area. For French medicine, see P. Delauney: La vie médicale aux XVIe, XVIIe, XVIIIe siècles (1935). A variety of special monographs have been instructive to me: Arthur Newsholme: Evolution of Preventive Medicine (1927) touches on a subject important to eighteenth-century reformers; David Riesman’s article “The Rise and Early History of Clinical Teaching,” Annals of Medical History, II, 2 (June 1919), 136–47, traces the significant development of simply looking at the patient, from its first practice in sixteenth-century Padua, to the great Boerhaave, who practiced in a twelve-bed clinic at Leyden, and taught all Europe—and America. Bernice Hamilton: “The Medical Professions in the Eighteenth Century,” Economic History Review (second series), IV, 2 (1951), 141–69, has valuable details on the liberation of surgeons from barber gilds, and professional infighting. On the surgeon’s struggle for status and independence, see also the volumes by King. Maurice Daumas: Les instruments scientifiques aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles (1953) deals with medical instruments, while John F. Fulton briefly traces the history of a medical academy, in his “The Warrington Academy (1757–86) and its influence upon Medicine and Science,” Bulletin of the Institute of the History of Medicine, I (1933), 50–80. Goethe has some observations on the growing importance of the medical profession in his time—(Dichtung und Wahrheit, in Gedenkausgabe, X, 305).
The subject of mental illness is beginning to receive serious attention; the philosophes, to their credit, were among the first to regard it as a natural affliction rather than a divine punishment or devilish invasion. Michel Foucault: Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason (1961; tr. [but somewhat cut] Richard Howard, 1965), is often brilliant and filled with startling facts, but ridden with a metaphysical thesis and the gloomy conviction that the modern world of “normal” men is really the madhouse; its rather hostile treatment of Freud is indicative of its bias. (See my review of the book in Commentary, XL, 4 [October 1965], 93–6.) Richard Hunter and Ida McAlpine: Three Hundred Years of Psychiatry, 1535–1860 (1963), is substantial, and less metaphysical than Foucault’s work.
Despite this wealth of material, the intimate relation of Enlightenment to medicine can still be profitably explored. Pierre Brunet: Les Physiciens hollandais et la méthode expérimentale en France au XVIIIe siècle (1926) is economical and impressive; I have learned much from it. The last chapters of Gerald J. Gruman: A History of Ideas About the Prolongation of Life: The Evolution of Prolongevity Hypotheses to 1800 (1966), review the ideas of Franklin, Condorcet, and others on the important theme of lengthening the life span. John F. Fulton: “The Rise of the Experimental Method, Bacon and the Royal Society of London,” Yale Journal of Biology and Medicine, III, 4 (March 1931), 299–320, is useful. Fulton has also considered “Some Aspects of Medicine Reflected in Seventeenth-Century Literature With Special Reference to the Plague of 1665,” in R. F. Jones et al.: The Seventeenth Century; Studies in the History of English Thought and Literature from Bacon to Pope (1951), [I, 526], 198–208. Walter Pagel: “The Religious and Philosophical Aspects of van Helmont’s Science and Medicine,” Supplements to the Bulletin of the History of Medicine, No. II (1944), illuminates the relations of science to medicine, medicine to philosophy, and philosophy to religion in the age just preceding the Enlightenment. John Locke’s medical philosophy has recently aroused widespread interest. Maurice Cranston’s John Locke, A Biography (1957) has some material on Locke and Sydenham; Patrick Romanell has gone through “Some Medico-Philosophical Excerpts from the Mellon Collection of Locke’s Papers,” Journal of the History of Ideas, XXV, 1 (January–March 1964), 107–16, and Kenneth Dewhurst has written an informative book on John Locke (1632–1704), Physician and Philosopher: A Medical Biography (1963). Until recently, the best biography of Sydenham was David Riesman: Thomas Sydenham, Clinician (1926). Now there is Kenneth Dewhurst: Dr. Thomas Sydenham (1624–1689): His Life and Official Writings (1966), an essay with a useful anthology attached. For medicine in the Encyclopédie, see Maxime Laignel-Lavastine: “Les médecins collaborateurs de l’Encyclopédie,” Revue d’Histoire des Sciences, IV (1951), 353–8; Pierre Astruc: “Les sciences médicales et leurs représentants dans l’Encyclopédie,” ibid., 359–68; Proust: Diderot et l’Encyclopédie, 35–6; and Arthur M. Wilson: Diderot, The Testing Years, 1713–1759 (1957), 52–3, 93 [I, 436]. Diderot’s interest in medicine receives attention in A. Bigot: “Diderot et la médecine,” Cahiers haut-marnais, No. 24 (1951), 42–3; while Charles G. Cumston: An Introduction to the History of Medicine (1926) gives some pages (351–6) to Diderot’s celebrated physician-friend Théophile de Bordeu. Herbert Dieckmann has devoted an important article to Bordeu: “Théophile Bordeu und Diderots Rêve de d’Alembert,” Romanische Forschungen, III (1938), 55–122. Amusingly, and instructively, La Mettrie refers to Diderot as a “Médecin” (L’homme machine [ed. Aram Vartanian, 1960], 177). “Voltaire’s Relations to Medicine” have been explored extensively though rather superficially in Pearce Bailey’s article, in Annals of Medical History, I (1917), 54–72; Renée Waldinger: “Voltaire and Medicine,” VS, LVIII (1967), 1777–1806, is far more useful. M. S. Libby: The Attitude of Voltaire to Magic and the Sciences (1935) has some useful pages (240–60) on the same subject. Voltaire’s celebrated physician has had his own biography; see Henry Tronchin: Un médecin du XVIIe siècle, Théodore Tronchin (1709–1791), d’après des documents inédits (1906). Denis Diderot, it seems, on behalf of his father, also consulted Tronchin; this emerges from the extended note by Jean-Daniel Candaux: “Consultations du docteur Tronchin pour Diderot, père et fils,” Diderot Studies, VI (1964), 47–54.
I have quoted the long, moving passage from David Ramsay’s review of the state of eighteenth-century medicine from the original edition; the little pamphlet is now available once more, together with other works and letters, in the convenient edition by Robert L. Brunhouse: David Ramsay, 1749–1815: Selections from his Writings (1965).
Both to the men of the eighteenth century, and to historians today, the advance of medicine and the state of population were, and are, inseparable. General histories of population to be consulted are Marcel Reinhard: Histoire de la population mondiale de 1700 à 1948 (1949), and the important collective work by D. V. Glass and D. E. C. Eversley, eds.: Population in History: Essays in Historical Demography (1965), which has a number of valuable articles on demography all over Europe.
The fact of eighteenth-century population growth is universally accepted, but the causes of the demographic revolution remain controversial. The available facts (for England) and the current state of the controversy have been summarized ably in Deane: First Industrial Revolution, chap. ii. The older argument, offered in M. C. Buer’s informative Health, Wealth and Population in the Early Days of the Industrial Revolution (1926), that population grew because the death rate fell as a result of improvement in many areas of life, long regarded as obvious, has now been challenged; it must be at least refined and probably modified. The careful researches of H. J. Habbakuk show that the fall in the death rate was marked only after 1780, but that earlier population increases may have resulted from earlier marriages and improved nutrition, which produced higher birth rates. See Habbakuk: “English Population in the Eighteenth Century,” Economic History Review (second series), VI, 2 (1953), 117–33, and “Population Problems and European Economic Development in the Late Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries,” American Economic Review, LIII, 2 (May 1963), 607–33. His views have been supported in J. T. Krause’s authoritative though still cautious “Changes in English Fertility and Mortality, 1781–1850,” Economic History Review (second series), XI, 1 (1958), 52–70. Other valuable contributions to the debate in England have been offered, again by Krause, in a helpful survey, “Some Implications of Recent Work in Historical Demography,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, I, 2 (January 1959), 164–88; T. McKeon and R. G. Brown: “Medical Evidence Related to English Population Changes in the Eighteenth Century,” Population Studies, IX, 2 (November 1955), 119–41; D. V. Glass: “The Population Controversy in Eighteenth Century England,” ibid., VI, 1 (July 1952), 69–91, and the earlier but still helpful article by John Brownlee, “The Health of London in the Eighteenth Century,” Proceedings of the Royal Medical Society, XVIII, part 2 (1925), 78–85, which has figures on the London Lying-In Hospital.
On demographic information for countries other than England, see, in addition to the general histories of population already cited, H. Gille: “The Demographic History of the Northern European Countries in the Eighteenth Century,” Population Studies, III, 1 (June 1949), 3–65, to be supplemented by an extremely informative essay by E. F. Heckscher, “Swedish Population Trends before the Industrial Revolution,” Economic History Review (second series), II, 3 (1950), 266–77.
For France, see Philippe Ariès: Histoire des populations françaises et leurs attitudes devant la vie depuis le XVIIIe siècle (1948), and Pierre Goubert: “En Beauvais: problèmes démographiques du XVIIe siècle,” Annales, VII, 4 (October-December 1952), 453–68, which, though concerned with the seventeenth century, shows the improvement in life-expectancy in the second half of that century, which was the taking-off point for the eighteenth. See also François de Dainville: “Grandeur et population des villes au XVIIIe siècle,” Population, XIII, 3 (July-September 1958), 459–80; A. Sauvy and Jacqueline Hecht: “La population agricole française au XVIIIe siècle et l’expérience du marquis de Turbilly,” ibid., XX, 2 (March–April 1965), 269–86; Jean Meuvret: “Les crises de subsistances et la démographie de la France d’ancien régime,” ibid., I, 4 (October–December 1946), 643–50; Anita Fage: “Les doctrines de population des Encyclopédistes,” ibid., VI, 4 (October–December 1951), 609–24; Fage: “Économie et population: les doctrines françaises avant 1800,” ibid., IX, 1 (January–March 1954), 105–10; and P. E. Vincent: “French Demography in the 18th Century,” Population Studies, I, 1 (June 1947), 44–71.
In addition to relying on the titles just mentioned, I have drawn figures for the text from Ashton: The Eighteenth Century, 9; Jacques Godechot: La Grande Nation, 2 vols. (1956), I, 44; J. L. and Barbara Hammond: “Poverty, Crime, Philanthropy,” in Turberville, ed.: Johnson’s England, I, 308; and G. E. Mingay: “The Agricultural Depression, 1730–1750,” Economic History Review (second series), VIII, 3 (1956), 323–38.
The history of nutrition is of great significance for my theme. The French journal Annales has been running some important articles since 1961. Radcliffe N. Salaman: The History and Social Influence of the Potato (1949) is a justly famous pioneering work; large but by no means extravagant claims for the part of the potato in changing life in Europe have been made by William L. Langer, in his “Europe’s Initial Population Explosion,” American Historical Review, LXIX, 1 (October 1963), 1–17. For other histories of various foods, including bread and wine, see the bibliography in Robert Mandrou: Introduction à la France moderne, Essai de psychologie historique, 1500–1640 (1961), 372, which I have found useful. Lord Ernie: English Farming Past and Present (edn. 1961) connects nutrition to the agricultural revolution. For that revolution, especially in England, see chap. iii in Deane: First Industrial Revolution, and Ashton: The Eighteenth Century (chap. ii). See also G. E. and K. R. Fussell: The English Countryman: His Life and Work, A.D. 1500–1900 (1955). Enclosures, in addition, are treated in E. C. K. Gonner: Common Land and Enclosures (1912), which should be read in conjunction with H. G. Hunt: “Landownership and Enclosure, 1750–1850,” Economic History Review, XI, 3 (1959), 497–505, as well as the earlier essay by J. D. Chambers, “Enclosure and Labor Supply,” ibid., V, 2 (1952), 319–43, which, together with the revisionist work of major economic historians, suggests the economic and social advantages of enclosures.
Other countries experienced agricultural and nutritional changes of great importance as well. They are taken into account in Olga Beaumont: “Agriculture: Farm Implements,” in Singer, ed.: History of Technology, IV, 1–12; and G. E. Fussell: “Agriculture: Techniques of Farming,” ibid., 13–42. See also E. Soreau: L’agriculture du XVIIe siècle à la fin du XVIIIe siècle (1952).
If the material for the first two sections of this chapter is rich, it is overwhelming for this section; I shall confine myself to items of central importance.
The sociological perception of civilization as an interacting totality of interdependent sectors is best, if most informally, expressed in some of Voltaire’s Notebook entries, some of them cited in the text, and in Voltaire’s Lettres philosophiques, best read in the great edition of Gustave Lanson, 2 vols. (1909). Carl Bridenbaugh reports on an American instance of such sociological perception; in 1773, an unidentified gentleman in Baltimore wrote:
Liberty, science and commerce, the great friends of man, are sister adventurers. They are intimately, indeed, inseparably linked together, and always take up their residence in the cities. Thither, the greatest geniuses of the age generally resort, and incited by emulation or fired by ambition, they stimulate each other to successful exertions of native talents; which might have otherwise lain dormant and forever deprived mankind of much useful instruction. To them repair the patriots, the men of letters, and the merchants who become the guardians of the people’s rights, the protectors of learning, the supporters of their countries’ trade. Thus, free cities, considered in this light are the repositories, preservatives, and nurseries of commerce, liberty and knowledge. Cities in Revolt, 215.
For the rise of reason in the eighteenth century, I offer in evidence The Rise of Modern Paganism, with its Bibliographical Essay [esp. I, 505–46]. Roland N. Stromberg: Religious Liberalism in Eighteenth-Century England (1954), [I, 550] is good for England; Leslie Stephen: English Thought in the Eighteenth Century, 2 vols. (1876), [I, 431] remains so. See E. Préclin and E. Jarry: Les Luttes politiques et doctrinales aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles, 2 vols. (1955–6), [I, 546], for France; Karl Aner: Theologie der Lessingzeit (1929), [I, 440, 536], for Germany, although the subject invites further monographic work. I have traced the rise of rationalism in New England through a study of Puritan historians in my A Loss of Mastery: Puritan Historians in Colonial America (1966), which contains a full and argumentative bibliography; here I single out Conrad Wright: The Beginnings of Unitarianism in America (1955), and Joseph Haroutunian: Piety Versus Moralism: The Passing of the New England Theology (1932). Hugh Trevor-Roper: “The Scottish Enlightenment,” VS, LVIII (1967), 1635–58, is a wicked, witty, and persuasive essay on the rise of reason in a backward Calvinist society.
The best book on touching is Marc Bloch’s magnificent and exhaustive analysis, Les Rois Thaumaturges: Étude sur le caractère surnaturel attribué à la puissance royale particulièrement en France et en Angleterre (1924), fully documented and superbly controlled. In an English notebook, incidentally, Voltaire notes (in English): “My footman touched for the King’s evil till he was seven years of age” (Notebooks, 59).
The literature on humanitarianism4 is large though not always very good. But see David Owen: English Philanthropy, 1660–1960 (1964): its first five chapters concentrate on the eighteenth century, tracing the change of spirit concretely in charitable institutions. M. Gwladys Jones: The Charity School Movement (1958) is a full, judicious, tough-minded account of a complex subject. See also W. K. Lowther Clarke: A History of the S.P.C.K. (1959), and R. H. Nichols and F. A. Wray: The History of the Foundling Hospital (1935). Samuel C. McCulloch has edited a collection of essays, British Humanitarianism, Essays Honoring Frank J. Klingberg (1950), which contain much useful detail but are, in general, rather mediocre. A. W. Coats has an interesting article on “Changing Attitudes to Labour in the Mid-Eighteenth Century,” Economic History Review (second series), XI, 1 (1958) 35–51, on which I have drawn. For Hume’s humaneness, see Eugene Rotwein’s David Hume: Writings on Economics (1955).
Shelby T. McCloy has written a comprehensive survey of The Humanitarian Movement in Eighteenth-Century France (1957), full of information but rather lacking in discrimination and decisive judgment (I accept the strictures of Elinor Barber in her review of this book, Journal of Modern History, XXX, 2 [June 1958], 144–5. Still, the book is informative. It may be supplemented by McCloy’s own Government Assistance in Eighteenth Century France [1946].)
For Germany, see Hans M. Wolff: Die Weltanschauung der deutschen Aufklärung in geschichtlicher Entwicklung (2d edn., 1963), and Holborn: A History of Modern Germany, 1648–1840, especially 238, 270–1. Leo Gershoy: From Despotism to Revolution, 1763–1789 (1944) has a good survey of the advance of welfare, coupled with the secularization of charity (chaps. viii and x).
That all was far from well can be seen from the expulsion of the Jews from Prague (Schürer: Prag, 225–9); and the fate of the Norwegian figure Christian Lofthuus (1750–97), who spent the last ten years of his life chained to a block (Hovde: The Scandinavian Countries, 201). It would be all too easy to multiply the instances. Let me call attention to my pages on Catherine of Russia in my Voltaire’s Politics: The Poet as Realist (1959), 171–84, and the bibliographical notes (384–5); Catherine is of special interest because she masked brutality, especially toward the helpless serfs, behind the guise of enlightened rhetoric. On the Russian serf, Geroid T. Robinson’s scholarly Rural Russia under the Old Regime (1949) is conclusive.
Doubtless, the best place to study the other side of the eighteenth century—the victory of stagnation and clerical conservatism—is Spain, and here we have the magnificently detailed, observant survey by Jean Sarrailh: L’Espagne éclairée de la seconde moitié du XVIIIe siècle (1954), a brilliant essay on social rigidity; it may be read in conjunction with Richard Herr: The Eighteenth-Century Revolution in Spain (1958).
For all its obvious importance, the history of the Western family remains to be written, though there has been some pioneering work in recent years. Philippe Ariès: Centuries of Childhood: A Social History of Family Life (1960; tr. Robert Baldick, 1962), is a masterly survey of the idea of childhood beginning in the late Middle Ages and moving into the modern period; it skillfully employs family portraits, intimate diaries, and scholastic programs. Studien über Autorität und Familie, ed. Max Horkheimer (1936), is the celebrated collective report from the Institut für Sozialforschung; it displays that curious mixture of philosophical Marxism and orthodox psychoanalysis typical of the work of that Institute. It begins with a psychological article by Erich Fromm, a theoretical article by Max Horkheimer, and a historical article by Herbert Marcuse; offers detailed interpretations of questionnaires and long, immensely useful reviews of available literature. For England, see the recent effort by Peter Laslett: The World We Have Lost (1965), pioneering, tentative, and controversial. (The review of this book in the Times Literary Supplement of December 9, 1965, though shrewd, is excessive in its hostile zeal.) The best book on the New England family is by Edmund S. Morgan: The Puritan Family: Religion and Domestic Relations in Seventeenth-Century New England (2d edn., 1966). Curt Gebauer has written two informative articles on family structure and moral training in eighteenth-century Germany: “Studien zur Geschichte der bürgerlichen Sittenreform des 18. Jahrhunderts,” Archiv für Kulturgeschichte, XV (1923), 97–116; and “Studien zur Geschichte der bürgerlichen Sittenreform des 18. Jahrhunderts: Die Reform der häuslichen Erziehung,” ibid., XX (1930), 36–51. Friedrich Sengle: Christoph Martin Wieland (1949), [I, 441], 17, has a significant comment on the new, less patriarchal father in German society.
For France, in addition to Ariès, see Roger Mercier: L’Enfant dans la société du XVIIIe siècle, avant l’Émile (1961), and Edmond Pilon: La vie de famille au XVIIIe siècle (1941). Changes in family structure and ideals of marriage from seventeenth- to eighteenth-century France can be glimpsed from the relevant chapter on “La mystique du mariage,” in H. Brémond: Histoire littéraire du sentiment religieux en France, IX (1932), 289–330. A model of what this kind of social history must be—imaginative yet firmly wedded to fact, sociological and psychoanalytical at once—is Marc Raeff: “Home, School, and Service in the Life of the Eighteenth-Century Russian Nobleman,” The Slavonic and East European Review, XL, 95 (June 1962), 295–307, which makes much of the absent father and the migratory habits of noble families; we need more articles of this sort in all areas of Western civilization of the eighteenth century. See also Raeff’s important Origins of the Russian Intelligentsia: The Eighteenth-Century Nobility (1966). Lawrence Stone: “Marriage among the English Nobility in the 16th and 17th Centuries,” with comment by William J. Goode: Comparative Studies in Society and History, III, 2 (January 1961), 182–215, is very valuable on arranged marriages, and suggestive for my text although it regrettably stops short of the age of the Enlightenment. Stone’s theme is taken up by a valuable unpublished article by J. Jean Hecht on rational love and mate selection in eighteenth-century England. Paul Kluckhohn’s monograph, Die Auffassung der Liebe im 18. Jahrhundert und in der Romantik (2d edn., 1931), is highly suggestive on the relation of Pietism, “Empfindsamkeit,” and rationalism to literature. On the “mysterious” subject of women, to which Diderot devoted an essay-review, “Sur les femmes,” (1772) reviewing Antoine-Léonard Thomas’s Essai sur le caractère, les moeurs et l’esprit des femmes … (1772), (see Œuvres, II, 251–62), and which was the subject of ruminations by Hume, Wieland, Voltaire, and other philosophes, much further work is needed. For a psychoanalytical investigation into the notion of the “dangerous woman” as the source of vice, see H. R. Hays: The Dangerous Sex (1964). On Defoe, the pioneering feminist, see Bonamy Dobrée: English Literature in the Early Eighteenth Century, 1700–1740 (1959), [I, 538], 37–8. Jean Elizabeth Gagen: The New Woman: Her Emergence in English Drama: 1600–1730 (1954) is a useful dissertation.
The translation of Christian charity into secular generosity is well observed in Owen: English Philanthropy (see above, 592), and Ernst Troeltsch: Protestantism and Progress (1912; tr. W. Montgomery, 1912), 109 ff. George Sherburn: “Fielding’s Social Outlook,” in James L. Clifford, ed.: Eighteenth Century English Literature (1959), 251–73, says the essential. See also Donald J. Greene: The Politics of Samuel Johnson (1960), [I, 450].
This is not the place to assess the validity of Max Weber’s conception of the Protestant Ethic. Certainly his celebrated essay, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (1904–5; tr. Talcott Parsons, 1930), has been enormously stimulating, and has invited not merely controversy but also valuable research. While, I think, its central proposition has been severely damaged by Kurt Samuelsson: Religion and Economic Action: A Critique of Max Weber (1957; tr. E. Geoffrey French, 1961), the latest in a long series of controversial essays called forth by Weber’s famous essay (which also lucidly reviews the history of the controversy in the first chapter), Weber’s portrait of hard-working, ascetic Western man remains valuable for an understanding (among other things) of the problematic relation of duty to pleasure in the Enlightenment. The working out of this ethic in eighteenth-century Germany occupies a central place in Wolff: Weltanschaung der deutschen Aufklärung (see above, 593). Sengle: Wieland (above, 594) has some good pages on the same subject (203 ff., 302, 317–18). The tension between profits and humanity in industrialists has been well observed in Mantoux: Industrial Revolution (see above, 577), 464–7.
My comments in the text on the transvaluation of values—the high estimation of work and low estimation of heroism—are clearly only a beginning. I found some instructive hints in Dieckmann: Cinq Leçons sur Diderot (1959), [I, 436], 21–2. Early instances of the trader’s mentality are noted in Hans Baron: The Crisis of the Early Italian Renaissance (2d edn., 1966), [I, 511], passim.
The Spectator has now been given a splendid new edition, equipped with variants, reliable notes, and an informative introduction, by Donald F. Bond, 5 vols. (1965); I have published an appreciation of this edition, and the cultural meaning of the magazine, “The Spectator as Actor: Addison in Perspective,” Encounter, XXIX, 6 (December 1967), 27–32. It may be supplemented by Calhoun Winton: Captain Steele: The Early Career of Richard Steele (1964); and Peter Smithers: The Life of Joseph Addison (1954), the best biography.
The point made by d’Alembert, that mid-century is decisive both in the eighteenth century and in other centuries, has been noted before me, by Cassirer: Philosophy of the Enlightenment, 3–4, and Wilson: Diderot, 95.
1 As in the first volume, I have here adopted the following convention with translations: I give the English title, followed by the original date of publication, the name of the translator, and the date of the translation.
2 For the economic history of France—Labrousse, Sée and others—see below, 581–2.
3 For other titles on German social history, see the chapters on politics, especially 676–7.
4 For the philosophes’ humanitarian ideas—on toleration, peace, abolition of slavery, and judicial reform—see below, 669–74.