Chapter VIII: Part 8

Their _salon_, of course, was no more. The beating of the pitiless storm had driven their Englishmen to covert in happier England. But it is only when one is discontented with one’s relatives that there is crying need of acquaintances. These two still had each other and their child. Condorcet had much to lose.

To go to the Rue de Lille would be courting death. He escaped first to his country home at Auteuil. From there, two friendly doctors took him to a house in the Rue Servandoni, belonging to Madame Vernet, the widow of the sculptor, and asked her to shelter a proscribed man. She only inquired if he was good and virtuous. When they answered, ‘Yes,’ she consented at once. ‘Do not lose a moment, you can tell me about him later.’ Regarding the value of the works of her husband there have been many opinions, but as to the value of her work there can be only one. Perfectly aware that she was endangering her life for a fugitive whom she had never seen, and who had not the slightest claim upon her generosity, she sheltered him for nine months, providing him all the time with every necessary of life and without the smallest hope of repayment. When he did leave her at last, he had to steal away from her self-sacrificing care by a subterfuge, like a thief. Strong, simple and energetic, high in courage and devotion, Madame Vernet is one of the unsung heroines of history.

Condorcet’s condition was destitute indeed. As an outlaw all his money had been seized. For himself that might have been bearable; even to the fate he foresaw too clearly he could be indifferent--for himself. One Sarret, to whom Madame Vernet was privately married and who lived in the house, speaks of the fugitive’s gentleness, patience, and resignation. He had given to his country his talents, his time, his fortune, his rank; and when she turned and rent him, he had for her nothing but compassion and the strong hope of a day that would dawn upon her clear and fair, after the storm was past.

But in the knowledge that he had brought ruin and disgrace on what he loved best in the world, Condorcet sounded one of the great deeps of human suffering. As the wife of an outlaw, Madame de Condorcet was not only penniless, but could not even sleep in the capital. Wholly dependent on her was her little girl of three years old, a young sister, and an old governess. She was herself still young and brought up in a class unused to work, in the sense of work to make money, for generations. But there was in her soul the great courage of a great love. The talents which had once charmed her _salon_ she now turned to a means of livelihood. When her house at Auteuil was invaded by Republican soldiers, Madame softened their hearts and earned a pittance by taking their portraits. Twice a week, disguised as a peasant, she came on foot from Auteuil to Paris, passed through the gates with the fierce crowds thronging to the executions in the Place de la Révolution, and by painting miniatures of the condemned in the prisons, of proscribed men lying hidden in strange retreats, or of middle-class citizens, made enough to support her little household. Then, sometimes, she would creep to the Rue Servandoni, and for a few minutes forget parting, death, and the terrors of the unknown future, in her husband’s arms. He might well write, as he did write but a little while before he died, that even then he was not all unhappy--he had served his country and had had her heart.

He spent the long days of his hiding almost entirely in writing. He began by an exposition of his principles and conduct during the Revolution, and gave an account of his whole public career. He was writing it when, on October 3, 1793, he was tried, in his absence, before the Revolutionary Tribunal, with Vergniaud, Brissot, and others, accused of conspiring against the unity of the Republic, declared an emigrant, and condemned to death.

On the 31st of the same month came the fall of the Girondins. Though not himself a Girondin they had been once his friends, and in their ruin he saw the immediate presage of his own; and his own meant that also of Madame Vernet. He went to her at once. ‘The law is clear; if I am discovered here you will die as I shall. I am _hors la loi_; I cannot remain here longer. She answered that though he might be _hors la loi_ he was not outside the law of humanity; and bade him stay where he was.

His wife, in her peasant’s dress, came to him then for one of those brief moments, stolen from Heaven. She knew him well. That ‘Justification’ of his conduct, his Apologia, that looking back on deeds and sacrifices meant to bring the Golden Age to men and which _had_ brought, or so it seemed, the hell of the Terror--this was no fit work for him now. Look ahead! Look on to that new country which your pure patriotism and your self-devotion,--ay, and this Terror itself--shall have helped to make--that warless world of equal rights and ever widening knowledge, the beautiful dream of a sinless and sorrowless earth, which may yet be realised, in part.

On the manuscript of the ‘Justification’ there is written in her hand ‘_Left at my request to write the History of the Progress of the Human Mind_.’

In the very shadow of death, Condorcet told the story of men’s advance toward life, of the evolution of their understanding from the earliest times until now. Calm, just, and serene, with not an intemperate line, not an angry thought, the ‘Progress’ reads as if it had been written by some tranquil philosopher who had seen his plan for man’s redemption adopted, and had received for his labour honours, peace, and competence. Its fault, indeed, is its too sanguine idealism. Condorcet, like many enthusiasts, thought his own way of salvation for man the only way; he believed his own magnificent dream to be the only possible Utopia.

Beneath the guillotine and in social convulsions for which history has no parallel, he looked through and past them, in that last great chapter, in the exalted spirit of noble prophecy, to that Golden Age which _must_ surely come!

But ‘The Progress of the Human Mind’ is something more than a splendid hope, more than the greatest and most famous of its author’s works. It bears highest testimony to the character of him who in the supreme hour of his individual life could thus forget himself, and in the midst of personal ruin, foresee with exultant joy the salvation of the race.

It remains for ever among the masterpieces which men cannot afford to forget.

During his hiding Condorcet also wrote ‘The Letter of Junius to William Pitt’ in which he expresses his aversion to Pitt, and an essay, never printed, ‘On the Physical Degradation of the Royal Races.’ He also planned a universal philosophical language.

In December, 1793, he wrote ‘The Letter of a Polish Exile in Siberia to his Wife’--a poem in which another exile bade farewell to the woman he loved.

The death-shadows were creeping closer now.

In March, 1794, he finished ‘The Progress of the Human Mind.’ But before that he had decided to leave Madame Vernet; her danger was too great. Early in January he had begun writing his last wishes, the ‘Advice of a Proscribed Father to his Daughter.’ The little girl was the child of too deep a love not to be infinitely dear. To what was he leaving her? Throughout these cruel months, the last drop in his cup of bitterness had been the strong conviction that his wife would share his own fate, was doomed, like himself, to the guillotine. ‘If my daughter is destined to lose everything,’--even to himself he could not frame the dread thought in plainer words. But if even that thing must be, then he left Madame Vernet the guardian of his child, begging that she might have a liberal education which would help her to earn her own livelihood, and, in particular, that she might learn English, so that if need came she could seek the help of her mother’s English friends.

To the little girl herself he left words of calm and beautiful counsel, which are in themselves a possession. Some of that ‘light that never was on sea or land’ lies surely on those tender and gracious lines, something of the serene illumination that shines from a dying face.

In the early morning of April 5, 1794, the Marquis de Condorcet laid down his pen for the last time.

At ten o’clock on that day he slipped out of the house in the Rue Servandoni, unknown to Madame Vernet, and in spite of the passionate protests of Sarret, her husband, who followed him out into the street, praying him to return. Condorcet was in his usual disguise; many months’ confinement indoors, and the old weakness in his limbs, made walking a difficulty. He was at the door almost of the fatal prisons of the Carmes and the Luxembourg; but no persuasions could make him return. He had heard rumours of a domiciliary visit to be made immediately to Madame Vernet’s house and, were he found there, she _must_ be ruined. Sarret implored in vain. The fugitive reached the Maine barrier in safety and turned in the direction of Fontenay-aux-Roses. At every step his pain and difficulty in walking increased. But at three o’clock in the afternoon he safely reached the country house of his old friends, the Suards.

Madame Suard may be remembered as the very enthusiastic and vivacious little lady who once visited Voltaire, who has left behind her entertaining ‘Letters,’ and who has recorded Voltaire’s warm love and admiration for her friend Condorcet. ‘Our dear and good Condorcet,’ Madame Suard had called him. She and her husband (who was a well-known journalist and wit) had been his intimate friends in prosperity; how could he do better than come to them in his need?

It must in justice be said of the Suards that the accounts of their conduct are confused. But the generally accepted, as well as the most probable, story does not redound to their credit. True, they had many excuses; but there has never been any act of treachery for which the treacherous have not been able to adduce a plausible reason.

Condorcet asked for one night’s lodging, and M. Suard replied that such hospitality would be quite as dangerous for Condorcet himself as for them. Still, they could give him money, some ointment for a chafed leg due to his long walk, and a copy of Horace--to amuse his leisure! Further, we will not lock our garden-gate to-night so that in case of urgent need you can make use of it! With this, they sent him away.

Madame Vernet, searching for him in that neighbourhood a little while after, declared that she tried the garden-gate and found it rusty and immovable. Her own door, in lawless Paris, was open night and day that, if he should return to her, she should not fail him. Whether he attempted to make use of the Suards’ timid hospitality is not known. One would think of Condorcet that he did not.

The day of April 6 he spent in sufferings and privations which can only be guessed.

On April 7, a tall man, gaunt and famished, with a wound in his leg, went into an inn of Clamart and asked for an omelette. Mine host, looking at him suspiciously, inquired how many eggs he would have in his omelette. The Marquis, with no kind of idea of the number of eggs a working-man, or any man for that matter, expects in his omelette, said a dozen. M. Crépinet, the innkeeper, was a shrewd person as well as one of the municipals of the Commune. A queer workman this! Your name? Peter Simon, was the answer. Papers? I have none. Occupation? Well, on the spur of the moment, a carpenter. His hands, whose only tool had been a pen, gave him the lie. Crépinet, pleased with his own sharpness, had this strange carpenter arrested and marched toward Bourg-la-Reine.

How in these supreme moments Condorcet felt and acted, is not on record. But in the great crises men unconsciously produce that character which they have formed in the trivial round of daily life, and he who would be great at great moments must be a great character by his own fireside and in the dull routine of his ordinary work. The strong, quiet Condorcet was surely strong and quiet still--‘the victim of his foes,’ as he had said, ‘but never their instrument or their dupe.’ On that weary way, a compassionate vine-dresser took pity on his limping condition, and lent him a horse.

On the morning of April 8, 1794, when the jailor of the prison of Bourg-la-Reine came to hand over the new prisoner to the _gendarmes_ who had arrived to take him to Paris, the Marquis de Condorcet was found dead in his cell. With a powerful preparation of opium and stramonium prepared by his friend Cabanis, the celebrated physician, and which Condorcet had long carried about with him in his ring, he had ‘cheated the guillotine.’ It was remembered afterwards, that when he left the Suards’ house, he had turned saying, ‘If I have one night before me, I fear no man; but I will not be taken to Paris.’

That he who gave his life to the people should have defrauded them, as it were, of his death, strikes the one discord in the clear harmony of this true soul.

Better that a Condorcet, like many a lesser man, should have mounted the guillotine as a king mounts his throne, proud to die for the cause for which he had lived, and hearing through the blasphemy and the execrations of the rabble below, the far-off music of a free and happy people.

For many months the woman who loved him had no news of his death. She hoped against hope that he had escaped, and was in safety in Switzerland. To support her little household she took a fine-linen shop in the Rue St. Honoré, and in the _entresol_ set up her little studio where she continued her portrait-painting.

In January, 1794, for the good and safety of their child, she had heroically petitioned the municipality for a divorce from her husband, and obtained it--six weeks after his death. When the certain news of that death reached her, both her health and her strong heart faltered. But Doctor Cabanis, who afterwards married her young sister, saved her--for further effort and longer work.

Full of courage and resignation she rose up again, wrote a preface to ‘The Progress of the Human Mind,’ educated her child, and when in 1795 some of her fortune was restored, immediately began paying the pensions which d’Alembert had asked Condorcet to give his old servants.

In later days she had a little _salon_ in Paris, saw her daughter happily married, and died in 1822. In every stupendous change which France experienced between the fall of Robespierre and the death of Napoleon Bonaparte, she remained faithful to the principles to which her husband had devoted his genius and his life.

Through all, the Marquise de Condorcet had been, and had counted herself, a happy woman. Wrung with such sorrows as do not fall to the lot of many of her sex, she had had a blessing which is the portion of far fewer of them; she had inspired a great devotion, and had been worthy of it.

To Condorcet is meted now in some sort the same judgment as was meted to him in life.

Since he never gave himself blindly to any one faction, all factions have distrusted and condemned him. To the Royalist he is a Revolutionist; to the Revolutionist he is an aristocrat. The thinker cannot forgive him that his thought led him to deeds and words; the man of action cannot forget that he was thinker and dreamer to the end. While the Church can never pardon his persistent hostility to theology, his vehement opposition to Roman Catholicism, as the religion ‘where a few rogues make many dupes,’ the unbeliever is impatient with his serene faith in human kind, his unshattered trust in the goodness, not of God, but of man.

Far in advance of his time--in some respects of our time too--in his views on the rights of men and of women, on the education of children, and in his steady abhorrence of all limitation of what Voltaire called ‘the noble liberty of thinking,’ he is still condemned for an unpractical idealism, and for his passionate conviction that all errors are the fruit of bad laws.

But he at least stands out clearly to any impartial observer as one of the very few whose lofty disinterestedness came unscorched through the fire of the Terror.

In private life, stern to duty and yet tenderer than any woman in his quiet, deep affections, patient and strong with the fine endurance of steel and with the capacity (that capacity which is as rare as genius) for the highest form of human love, he showed a great character beside which even his great intellect seems a small thing and a mean.

In the breadth and the generosity of his self-sacrifice for the public good, he remains for ever one of the noblest, not only of the Friends of Voltaire, but of the sons of France.

INDEX

‘Advance, The, of the Mind of Man’ (Turgot), 208

‘Advantages, The, of Christianity’ (Turgot), 208

‘Advice of a Proscribed Father, The’ (Condorcet), 291

Aine, Madame d’, 54, 123, 131, 132, 136

Alembert, Jean Lerond d’, 45, 47, 72, 124-5, 133, 136,
199, 213, 269, 271, 275;
birth and parentage, 2-4;
at Madame Rousseau’s, 4-6;
education, 6-8;
mathematical studies, 8-9;
publishes ‘Treatise on Dynamics’ and ‘Theory of Winds,’ 10;
death of his mother, 10;
acquaintance with Diderot, 11;
writes ‘Preface’ to Encyclopædia, 12-13;
offered Presidency of Berlin Academy, 13-14;
member of the French Academy, 14;
visits Voltaire, 15;
writes ‘Geneva,’ 15-16;
retires from Encyclopædia, 16-17;
publishes ‘Elements of Philosophy,’ 17;
visits Berlin, 18;
his attachment to Mlle. de Lespinasse, 18-23;
their _salon_, 23-24;
publishes ‘History of the Destruction of the Jesuits,’ 25;
second visit to Voltaire, 25-26;
made Perpetual Secretary of Academy, 26;
illness and death of Mlle. de Lespinasse, 27-23;
his unhappiness and death, 29-30;
his work and character, 30-31

‘Appeal to the French Citizens’ (Condorcet), 284-5

Argental, Comte d’, 113

Artois, Comte d’, 253, 262

‘Banise’ (Grimm), 152

‘Barber of Seville, The’ (Beaumarchais), 247-50, 261-2

Beaumarchais, Caron de, birth and early life, 236-7;
first marriage, 238;
at Court, 238-40;
visits Spain, 240-1;
produces ‘Eugénie,’ 241;
second marriage, 241-2;
the Goezman lawsuit and ‘Memoirs,’ 243-6;
acts as secret agent, 246-7;
produces ‘Barber of Seville,’ 247-50;
edits Voltaire’s Works, 250;
various employments, 251;
advertises ‘Figaro,’ 252;
produces it at Gennevilliers, 253-4;
and at the Comédie, 254-60;
imprisoned in St. Lazare, 261;
sees ‘Barber of Seville’ at Trianon, 261-2;
quarrels with Mirabeau, 263;
third marriage, 263;
his part in the Revolution, 263-6;
produces ‘Guilty Mother,’ 266;
death and character, 266-7

Beaumarchais, Madame (Mme. Francquet), 237-8

Beaumarchais, Madame (Mme. Lévêque), 241-2

Beaumarchais, Madame (Mlle. Willermaula), 263, 266

Beaumarchais, Mademoiselle Eugénie, 263, 266

Bergasse (lawyer), 263

Bernis, Cardinal de, 33, 269

Blache, Comte de la, 243, 244

‘Blind, Letter on the’ (Diderot), 41, 42

Brienne, Loménie de, 208, 209, 210

Bueil, Comtesse de, 172, 173, 174

Buffon, Comte de, 127, 200

Cabanis, Doctor, 204, 295, 296

Catherine the Great, 18, 56-8, 158, 168-70, 171, 174

Charles Edward Stuart, Prince, 182-3

Châtelet, Madame du, 42, 180

Chaulnes, Duc de, 243

Choiseul, Duc de, 69, 70, 73, 83

‘Christianity Unveiled’ (d’Holbach), 140-1

Cicé, Abbé de, 208, 209, 224

Clavijo, 240-1

‘Clergy, The Mind of the’ (d’Holbach), 141

‘Commentary on Horace’ (Galiani), 73, 94

‘Commentary on Pascal’ (Condorcet), 272

Condorcet, Mademoiselle de, 277, 291-2, 296-7

Condorcet, Marquis de, 24, 25, 29, 30, 196, 199, 221-2;
his position and birth, 268;
education, 269-270;
character, 270-1;
visits Voltaire, 271-2;
made Secretary of Academy of Sciences, 272-3;
work with Turgot, 274;
member of French Academy, 275;
marriage, 275-7;
as Women’s Rights champion, 277;
as a politician, 278-9;
at the trial of Louis XVI., 280-3;
writes ‘Appeal’ and is proscribed, 284-6;
in hiding, 286-292;
writes ‘Progress of Human Mind,’ &c., 289-91;
his wanderings, 292-5;
arrest and death, 295;
work and character, 297-8

Condorcet, Marquise de (Mlle. de Grouchy), 275-7, 285-6, 287-8, 289, 296-7

‘Corn Trade, Dialogues on the’ (Galiani), 62, 68, 86-90, 226

‘Corn Trade, Letters on the’ (Turgot), 226

‘Counsels to a Young Man’ (Vauvenargues), 103, 111

Daubinière, Madame, 85, 93

Dazincourt (actor), 255, 261

Deffand, Madame du, 18-19, 195

Destouches, General, 3, 4, 6

‘Destruction of the Jesuits, History of the’ (d’Alembert), 25, 133

Diderot, Angélique. _See_ Vandeul, Mme. de

Diderot, Denis, 11, 17, 30, 88, 125, 128, 130, 131,
138, 143, 163, 165, 168, 170, 191-2, 199, 202;
education, 32-3;
early life in Paris, 34-6;
marriage, 37-8; episode of Mme. Puisieux, 39;
writes ‘Essay on Merit and Virtue’ and ‘Philosophical Thoughts,’ 39;
birth of his daughter, 40;
writes ‘Letter on the Blind,’ 41;
prisoner in Vincennes, 42-3;
works at Encyclopædia, 43-8;
miscellaneous labours, 49-51;
episode of Mlle. Volland, 51;
visits _salons_, 52-3;
visits Grandval, 53-6;
produces plays, 56;
visits Catherine the Great, 56-8;
sees Voltaire, 58-9;
illness and death, 60-1;
estimate of his work and character, 61

Diderot, Madame (Mlle. Anne Toinette Champion), 36-9, 40-1, 51, 60-1

‘Dynamics, Treatise on’ (d’Alembert), 10

‘Elements of Philosophy’ (d’Alembert), 17, 72

Encyclopædia, The, 11-13, 14, 15-17, 43-8, 56, 121, 133, 150, 213

‘Épinay, Correspondence with Madame d’ (Galiani), 68

Épinay (Madame d’), 52-3, 79-80, 93, 125, 163-7, 172

‘Eugénie’ (Beaumarchais), 241

‘Existence’ (Turgot), 133, 213

‘Fame and Pleasure, Discourses on’ (Vauvenargues), 103

‘Father of the Family, The’ (Diderot), 56

Fel, Mademoiselle (opera dancer), 150-1, 166

‘Figaro, The Marriage of’ (Beaumarchais), 252-60

Franklin, Benjamin, 129-30, 204

Frederick the Great, 10, 13-14, 17-18, 88, 144, 156, 158, 167-8, 202

Fréron, Élie (journalist), 88

Frise, or Frisen, Comte de, 153, 155

Galiani, Abbé, 125, 130, 135-6, 144, 148;
his characteristics, 62-3;
birth and education, 63-4;
at the Academy of Naples, 64-5;
literary work, 65;
religion, 66;
posts and pensions, 67-8;
appointed Secretary in Paris, 68-9;
his reception there, 70-1;
his popularity, 71-3;
as a conversationalist, 73-4;
at the _salons_, 74-80;
his wit, 81-2;
his work, 82-3;
visits London, 83-4;
recalled to Naples, 84-6;
publishes ‘Dialogues on Corn Trade,’ 86-7;
its reception, 87-90;
life at Naples, 90-3;
friendship with Mme. d’Épinay, 93;
illness and death, 94-5;
his mission, 95

Galiani, Bernard, 63-4, 92

Galiani, Celestin, 63-4, 67

Garrick, David, 55, 56, 129

‘Geneva’ (d’Alembert), 15-16, 47

Geoffrin, Madame, 52, 66, 74-5, 127-8

‘Goezman Memoirs’ (Beaumarchais), 241, 243-6

‘Good Sense’ (d’Holbach), 147

Graffigny, Madame de, 183-4, 211-12

Grimm, Melchior, 49, 52-3, 58, 71, 79, 88, 125, 130, 144-5;
his love affair with Mlle. Fel, 150-1;
birth and early life, 151-2;
character, 152-4;
life in Paris, 154-5;
his ‘Literary Correspondence,’ 156-63;
his attachment to Mme. d’Épinay, 163-6;
visits Geneva, 166-7;
and Frederick the Great, 167-8;
and England, 168;
and the Russian Court, 168-70;
corresponds with Catherine the Great, 171;
his conduct in the Revolution, 172-3;
last years and death, 174-5;
his mission, 175

‘Guilty Mother, The’ (Beaumarchais), 264, 266

‘Happiness’ (Helvétius), 180, 204

Helvétius, Claude Adrien, 91, 127, 212;
his family and education, 176-8;
life in Paris, 178-9;
visits Voltaire, 180;
relations with Montesquieu, 181;
his charities, 182;
assists Prince Charles Edward, 182-3;
meets and marries Mlle. de Ligniville, 183-5;
his life and good works at Voré, 185-92;
his book ‘On the Mind,’ 192-4;
effects of its publication, 195-9;
his _salon_ in Paris, 199-200;
visits England, 201-2;
and Frederick the Great, 202;
his book ‘On Man,’ 202-3;
declining years, 203;
death, 204;
his work and position, 204-5

Helvétius, Madame (Mlle. de Ligniville), 183-92, 197, 199-200, 203-4, 212

Holbach, Baron d’, 53, 55, 56, 76-7, 155;
his position in the eighteenth century, 118;
and among Voltaire’s friends, 119;
early life, 120-1;
marriage, 121;
_salon_ in the Rue Royale, 121-2;
life and society at Grandval, 122-138;
visit to England, 138-9;
opinion of the English, 139-40;
publishes ‘Christianity Unveiled,’ 140-1;
and ‘The System of Nature,’ 141-4;
its reception, 144-5;
its philosophy, 145-6;
publishes other books, 147;
his last years and death, 148-9;
his character in contrast to his book, 149

Holbach, Madame d’, 121, 123, 131, 136-7

Hope (Père Hoop), 123-4, 130

Houdetot, Madame d’, 125-6, 164-5

Hume, David, 55, 56, 83, 128, 182, 200, 201

‘Imaginary Socrates, The’ (Galiani), 92

‘Instincts and Habitual Tastes of Man, The’ (Galiani), 92

‘Integral Calculus, Essay on’ (Condorcet), 269-70

‘Introduction to the Knowledge of the Human Mind’ (Vauvenargues), 111

‘Junius, Letter of, to William Pitt’ (Condorcet), 290-1

‘Justice and Virtue, Letter on’ (Condorcet), 269

‘Justification, The’ (Condorcet), 288, 289

La Harpe, Jean François de, 156, 264

Le Breton (publisher), 43, 48

Lespinasse, Mademoiselle de, 18-24, 27-28

‘Literary Correspondence, The’ (Grimm and Diderot),
49, 53, 79, 150, 156-63, 170

Louis XV., 16-17, 69, 70, 83, 237, 239, 242, 246

Louis XVI., 224, 225, 226, 227, 228-9, 231-2, 233, 252-3, 260-1, 278, 280-3

Louis XVIII., 231

Malesherbes, 195, 231-2

‘Man, On’ (Helvétius), 202-3, 204

Marie Antoinette, 225, 230-1, 232, 233, 245, 246, 253, 261-2, 274-5

Marmontel, Jean François, 112, 113, 127

Maurepas, Comte de, 224, 225, 226, 231

‘Meditation on Faith’ (Vauvenargues), 103, 109, 111

Meister (Grimm’s helper), 163, 170

‘Merit and Virtue, Essay on’ (Diderot), 39

‘Mind, On the’ (Helvétius), 127, 193-9, 202-3, 204-5

Mirabeau, Gabriel Honoré, Comte de, 263

Mirabeau, Victor Riquetti, Marquis de, 97-8, 100-1

Molé (actor), 255

Molin, Doctor, 4, 11

‘Money, Essay on’ (Galiani), 65, 67

Montesquieu, 181

Morellet, Abbé, 88-9, 125, 199-200, 208, 210

‘Natural Son, The’ (Diderot), 56, 241

Necker (Jacques), 75-6, 227-8, 274

Necker (Madame), 52, 75-6

‘Paper Money, Letter on’ (Turgot), 208

Paris-Duverney (financier), 240, 241, 243

‘Philosophical Thoughts, The’ (Diderot), 39, 41

‘Physical Degradation of the Royal Races, Essay on the’ (Condorcet), 291

‘Polish Exile, Letter of a’ (Condorcet), 291

Pompadour, Madame de, 155, 178

Porée, Père, 177

‘Portable Theology’ (d’Holbach), 141

‘Preface, The’ (d’Alembert), 12, 13, 31, 45

‘Priests Unmasked’ (d’Holbach), 141

‘Progress of the Human Mind, History of the’ (Condorcet), 289-90, 291, 296

‘Prophet, The Little, of Boehmischbroda’ (Grimm), 155

Puisieux, Madame, 39-40, 43

‘Rameau’s Nephew’ (Diderot), 61

Raynal, Abbé, 127, 129, 151, 156, 157

‘Reflections’ (Vauvenargues), 111

Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 16, 43, 47, 126-7,
128, 133, 151, 154, 164-6, 196, 199

Rousseau, Madame, 5-6

Saint-Lambert, Marquis de, 72, 126, 164-5

Sarret, 287, 292

Saxe-Gotha, Duchess of, 153, 156, 158, 167

‘Seneca, Life of’ (Diderot), 53

‘Social System, The’ (d’Holbach), 147

Sterne, Laurence, 55, 56, 85, 128

Suard, J. B., 156, 293-4

Suard, Madame, 293-4

‘System of Nature, The’ (d’Holbach), 141-7, 149

‘Tarare’ (Beaumarchais), 263

Tencin, Madame de, 3-4, 6, 10-11, 178

Tercier (press censor), 194, 197

Terrai, Abbé, 225

‘Theory of Winds, Treatise on the’ (d’Alembert), 10

Theriot, 156

Turgot, Anne Robert Jacques, 89-90, 125, 133,
136, 184, 195-6, 204, 273-4, 275;
his character and work, 206-7;
birth and education, 207-8;
at the Sorbonne, 208-10;
at Madame de Graffigny’s, 211-12;
visits Voltaire, 213-14;
as Intendant of Limoges, 214-24;
Minister of Marine, 224-5;
Controller-General, 225-32;
his dismissal, 232-3;
last years and death, 233-4;
position among Voltaire’s friends, 235

‘Turgot, Life of’ (Condorcet), 221-222, 275

‘Universal Morality’ (d’Holbach), 147

Vandeul, Madame de (Angélique Diderot), 40-1, 57, 59, 60

Vaudreuil, Comte de, 253, 261

Vauvenargues, Luc de Clapiers, Marquis de, character of his writing, 96;
birth and education, 97-8;
as a soldier, 98-100;
campaign in Bohemia, 101-2;
invalided, 103-4;
friendship with Voltaire, 104-7;
settles in Paris, 107-8;
his philosophy, 108-11;
his book, 111-13;
friends in Paris, 113-14;
illness and death, 115-17

Vergniaud, Pierre, 221, 288

Vernet, Madame, 286, 287, 289, 291, 292, 294

Volland, Mademoiselle, 51, 52, 54, 59

‘Volland, Letters to Mademoiselle’ (Diderot), 54, 61, 130, 138

Voltaire, Arouet de, 1, 17, 62, 96-7, 225-6, 233, 250, 260;
visited by d’Alembert, 15, 25-6;
friendship with Diderot, 41-2 55, 58-9;
opinion of Galiani’s ‘Dialogues,’ 87;
friendship with Vauvenargues, 104-7, 113-14;
opinion of Vauvenargues’ ‘Maxims,’ 112-13;
of d’Holbach’s ‘System of Nature,’ 144, 146;
and of Grimm’s ‘Little Prophet,’ 155;
visited by Grimm and Mme. d’Épinay, 166;
friendship with Helvétius, 179-80;
opinion of his book ‘On the Mind,’ 196, 198-9;
visited by Turgot, 213-214, 234;
opinion of Beaumarchais, 242;
and of the ‘Goezman Memoirs,’ 245;
visited by Condorcet, 271-2

Walpole, Horace, 129, 135

‘Wealth, Reflections on the Reformation and Distribution of’ (Turgot), 222

Wilkes, John, 55, 56, 129, 247

_Spottiswoode & Co. Ltd., Printers, New-street Square, London._

End of Project Gutenberg's The Friends of Voltaire, by S. G. Tallentyre