Montesquieu, Charles de Secondat, Baron de, the celebrated author of the Esprit des Lois, was descended of an ancient and noble family of Guienne, and born on the 18th of January 1689, at the castle of La Brède, near Bordeaux, where he passed his early days, and composed those works which have acquired for their author an imperishable reputation. His father having early discovered in him indications of genius, and a promise of future eminence, bestowed the utmost pains on his education, which appears to have been conducted with equal judgment and success; and being destined for the magistracy, he employed the energies of his active mind in studying the immense collection of the different codes, and in endeavouring to detect the motives and unravel the complicated relations of the obscure or contradictory laws contained in them. His taste for this study was insatiable; and if it proved the source of his future glory, it was also that of his greatest happiness. He has himself stated, that he never had to reproach himself with an hour of reading wasted or mis-spent. He recruited his mind with books of history and travels when exhausted with his arid labours upon jurisprudence, and had a high relish for the productions of the classical ages of Greece and Rome. Enchanted, as he says, with antiquity, he, at the age of twenty, composed a work, in the form of letters, wherein he sought to prove that the idolatry of the pagans did not appear to deserve eternal damnation; but this first production of his genius he wisely abstained from giving to the world. On the 24th of February 1714 he was received as counsellor to the parliament of Bordeaux, and, on the 13th of July 1716, he was, through the influence of his paternal uncle, named president a mortier. The same year he was admitted into the academy of Bordeaux, which had been recently founded by a number of persons possessing a common taste for music and works of entertainment. Conceiving, however, that its object was too limited, and desirous to extend the sphere of its utility, he undertook to convert this coterie of wits into a learned Montesquieu; and his views in this respect were warmly seconded by the Duke of La Force, who founded a prize, and held out several other inducements to the cultivation of science. Montesquieu thought with D'Alembert, that an experiment well performed was preferable to a feeble discourse or a bad poem; and having succeeded in impressing others with the same conviction, he thus became instrumental in establishing at Bordeaux an academy of sciences. As a member of this learned association, he contributed his contingent of memoirs or communications, chiefly on subjects connected with natural history, a species of study for which he had a particular taste. But his physical constitution disqualified him for that minute observation which is essential to the successful prosecution of this particular science. He was not only short-sighted, but his vision was weak; and this infirmity increased so much with time, that, towards the close of his life, he became almost blind. It may also be observed, that, at the period when Montesquieu applied himself to natural history, the fundamental principles of that science had not yet been established. In 1719, he circulated, by means of the journals, an Histoire Physique de la Terre ancienne et moderne; and he read successively to the academy of Bordeaux a dissertation Sur la Politique des Romains dans la Religion, an Eloge du Due de La Force, and a Vie du Marechal de Berwick, a production which in several points recalls the manner of Tacitus.

Montesquieu, however, was by no means in haste to appear before the public in the character of author. He preferred waiting until his faculties were ripened by time and matured by reflection; nor was it until the year 1721 that he entered upon his literary career, by the publication of the Lettres Persanes, the first idea of which seems to have been borrowed from the Siamois of the Amusements Sérieux et Comiques of Dufresny, though, in works of genius, the primary conception is of little moment compared with the execution. The success of the Lettres Persanes, and the influence which they exercised, were unparalleled. This is to be ascribed to two causes; the circumstances of the period at which the book appeared, and the form, adapted to every class of readers, into which it was cast. Disastrous wars, cruel persecutions, and rigorous seasons, followed by famine and misery, the natural attendants of these scourges, had darkened the close of a reign, during the brilliant days of which the French people, intoxicated with the glory and success of their king, had contemplated their own grandeur as reflected in his greatness and splendour; and even when great public misfortunes had produced general discontent, the habit of obedience and the fear inspired by a monarch whose will neither age nor reverses could bend, preserved a respectful silence around. But no sooner had Louis XIV. descended to the grave than the nation appeared to indemnify itself for the constraint which he had so long exercised over it; and in this it was powerfully seconded by the regent, who had assumed the reins of government. Then libertinism succeeded to devotion, effrontery to hypocrisy, familiarity to respect, audacity to submission. The liberty of saying or writing anything with impunity led men to examine and to combat all that had been agreed to without opposition, or even assented to with enthusiasm. In the midst of the general effervescence thus produced appeared the book of the Lettres Persanes. From the shape into which it was cast, it had all the attractions of a romance; it abounded in voluptuous details, which flattered the taste of the age for pleasure, and in irreligious sarcasms, which gratified its tendency to infidelity; and it treated with contempt Louis XIV. and his reign, which people now sought to depreciate. But it must nevertheless be admitted, that, with all these faults, the book displays an ardent love for the welfare of mankind; a courageous zeal for the triumph of reason and virtue; luminous views upon commerce, public law, criminal jurisprudence, and the dearest interests of nations; a penetrating insight into the vices of society, as well as those of governments; and, generally, strong evidence of profound reflection, which takes the reader more by surprise that it seems to be the constant object of the author to disguise it under the mask of frivolity. Its principal attraction, however, and that which won the suffrages of all, consisted in the keen, animated, sprightly satire of French manners and caprices, and in a style always lively, sparkling, full of happy innuendoes and unexpected contrasts, the pointed irony of which sometimes rose to the most energetic eloquence.

Four years after the publication of the Lettres Persanes, Montesquieu caused to be printed separately, in 1725, the Temple de Guide, an ingenious trifle, though cold and without interest, being equally devoid of easy wit or natural grace, and which Madame du Deffant happily called the Apocalypse of Gallantry. It appears, by a letter written long after the publication of the Temple de Guide, that the author declined to acknowledge this slight production, which he had composed for the amusement of some friends, in whose society he was accustomed to mingle at the house of a lady of his acquaintance. The same year, at the opening of the parliament of Bordeaux, he delivered a discourse on the duties of magistrates, advocates, attorneys, and all those connected with the administration of law; which, though but little noticed, is written in a flowing style and full of unction, different from the ordinary manner of Montesquieu, and in that vein of eloquence which addresses itself more to the sentiments than to the reason of men. In 1728, he sold his office and withdrew from the magistracy, the duties of which he had so well described. The desire to regain his freedom, and apply himself entirely to philosophy and letters, was no doubt one of his motives; but the principal cause of this determination seems to have been a sense of inadequacy to fill the situation in which he was placed. That continual presence of mind, that prompt and ready judgment, that attentive patience which traces throughout all its details the subterfuges of private interest, and that facility of elocution which displays truth and justice the instant they are discerned, rendering them at once triumphant; in these qualities, so indispensable in a judge, Montesquieu was, by his own account, entirely deficient. He informs us, indeed, that his whole merit as president consisted in rectitude of purpose, and understanding sufficiently the questions themselves; but that he had never been able to master the forms of procedure, although he had applied himself to the subject.

Being now at liberty to devote himself exclusively to philosophy and letters, he presented himself as a candidate for the place in the French Academy, vacant by the death of M. de Sacy; but Cardinal Fleury wrote to the academy that the king had declared he would not give his approbation to the author of a work containing impious sarcasms against religion. Montesquieu, however, though at once amazed and offended by the refusal of the king and his minister, contrived, by a little address, to propitiate the cardinal; he asserted his claim with firmness and dignity, yet disavowed those letters of the book which formed a legitimate ground of objection against him. The king was appeased by the intervention of the minister, and, on the 24th of January 1728, he was received into the academy, on which occasion he delivered an inaugural discourse, which is printed amongst his works. Montesquieu having accomplished this object, resolved to travel, and, in the course of his peregrinations, visited almost all the countries of Europe. He proceeded first to Vienna, where he often saw Prince Eugene; he then passed into Hungary, whence he journeyed to Italy, and at Venice became acquainted with John Law of Lauriston, who, from the height of grandeur, wealth, and celebrity, had fallen into obscurity, neglect, and poverty, and also with the Count de Bonneval, who had as yet only gone through part of the cycle of his romantic adventures. From Venice he proceeded to Rome, where he became acquainted with Cardinal Corsini, afterwards Clement XIII., and with Cardinal Polignac, author of the *Anti-Lucrèce*. He next visited Genoa, but having met with a cold reception there, he soothed his ill humour by writing some satirical stanzas, which, however, he did not think fit to print. From Italy he passed into Switzerland, and traversing the different countries watered by the Rhine, stopped some time in Holland, where he met Lord Chesterfield, with whom he had become acquainted at Venice. He then visited England, where he resided about two years, was admitted a member of the Royal Society, and treated with marked distinction by Queen Caroline.

On his return to his own country, he retired to his castle at La Brède, where he resumed his favourite pursuits. He had either before or during his travels caused to be printed in Holland a little work entitled *Réflexions sur la Monarchie universelle*, which is now but little known, and extremely rare, though it is referred to by the author himself in a passage of the *Esprit des Lois*.

The object of this piece was to prove that, in the actual state of the modern nations of Europe, it is impossible even for the ablest and most ambitious of sovereigns to establish an universal monarchy.

After two years spent in his retreat at La Brède, Montesquieu published, in 1734, his *Considérations sur les Causes de la Grandeur et de la Décadence des Romains*; a work which, if not the most remarkable, is perhaps the most finished of all his productions, and in which he had to enter into competition with several eminent men, both amongst the ancients and the moderns, particularly Polybius, Machiavelli, Saint-Evremond, and Bossuet. But Polybius, though a learned geographer, a skilful warrior, an adroit negociator, and a profound thinker, was a prolix historian and an indifferent writer. Machiavelli had selected certain facts of Roman history, rather as examples than as the principal subject of his reflections on politics. Saint-Evremond, full of ingenious views, but deficient in general information, and not very intimately acquainted with facts, has left his judgments imperfect and his analyses incomplete. Bossuet, having to consider the history of the Romans merely as a portion of that of the world, has contented himself with an outline embracing only the principal points.

Montesquieu is the first writer who has grappled with this great subject in all its details, and who compared all the facts with laborious sagacity. He has overlooked none which can afford matter for reflection, or warrant any inference of importance, and yet he has managed to compress the whole into a volume of moderate thickness. The *Dialogue de Sylla et d'Euricrate*, which is subjoined to this work, and may be considered as forming part of it, is one of those productions in which Montesquieu has displayed the greatest eloquence; and with this may be classed another piece not less remarkable, namely, *Lysimaque*, in which he has delineated, in a manner altogether sublime, that system of stoicism which raised man above the ordinary weaknesses of his nature, and enabled him to brave with joy, and even with pride, the cruelties of tyrants and the iniquities of fortune.

The Considerations on the Grandeur and Decline of the Romans make us acquainted with the history of a single people; but Montesquieu had long been engaged in studying that of all other nations, in discovering the causes of those revolutions which had successively changed the face of the world, and in investigating those laws and customs which had contributed to their prosperity or decline. The success of the treatise on the Roman people, which in some sort formed only a detached portion of the vast plan he had conceived, served to increase his ardour in the execution of so great an undertaking, to the completion of which fourteen more years of incessant labour were devoted. Sometimes he thought that he advanced rapidly, and would speedily accomplish his design; at other times he appeared to recede, and to become perplexed by the immensity and complication of the subject. At length, after twenty years of unremitting application, he had the satisfaction to put the last hand to a production upon which he had expended so much anxious labour and meditation, and which he entitled *L'Esprit des Lois*. But before sending this work to the press, he judged it prudent to consult one of his intimate friends, whose talents and knowledge he respected; and with this view he sent his manuscript to Helvetius. The latter, however, was so little satisfied with the production after perusal, and so much alarmed for the danger to which the reputation of Montesquieu would be exposed by the publication of a work which he considered as so defective, that at first he did not venture to express what he thought of it, and solicited the author's permission to communicate the manuscript to a common friend, Saurin, the author of *Spartacus*. The latter coincided in opinion with Helvetius, and both agreed that, by the publication of this book, the celebrated author of the *Lettres Persanes* would injure his reputation, and lower himself in the estimation of the world. After some hesitation, this extraordinary judgment was communicated to Montesquieu, accompanied with an earnest entreaty on the part of both that he would subject the whole to careful revision, and upon no account publish the work in the crude and imperfect state in which it then appeared.

The strange counsels of these friends, however, had so little influence on Montesquieu, that he sent the manuscript to the press without altering a word, prefixing this epigraph, *Prolem sine matre creatam*, to indicate that his work had no model; and, as if to mark still more strongly how little he was moved by their unfavourable judgment, he congratulated himself, in his preface, on having produced a work which was not altogether destitute of genius. Nor did the result disappoint the just expectations he had formed. Its success was in fact so great, that in little more than a year and a half after its publication, it had gone through twenty-two editions, and been translated into almost every language of Europe. The *Esprit des Lois* appeared about the middle of the year 1748, and before the end of the year 1750 its reputation was universal.

If the Spirit of Laws, however, was much read, much admired, and much praised, the work, like all those which have produced a great impression, was also much criticised. Madame du Deffant said of it, that it was not *l'esprit des loix*, but *de l'esprit sur les loix*, a saying which had just that degree of truth which gives currency to an epigram. Those who penetrated to a greater depth, and understood the difficult questions he had treated, perceived that, although the author had refuted some paradoxes of the Abbé Dubois, he had himself fallen into grave errors; that not having sufficiently examined the foundations of the feudal system, he had conceived too favourable an opinion of that form of government; that in order to establish certain principles, he

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1 This reference is contained in a note to book xxi, chap. 22, tom. ii, p. 274, of the edition of Lequien, and is in these terms: "Ceci a paru, il y a plus de vingt ans, dans un petit ouvrage manuscrit de l'auteur, qui a été presque fondé dans celui-ci." The *Esprit des Lois* appeared in 1748; and if the words "il y a plus de vingt ans" be exact, this little work must have been written about the year 1727, or perhaps a little earlier. Montesquieu drew his examples from suspected travellers or discredited authors; that from particular instances he too frequently deduced general conclusions; that a certain degree of neologism and obscurity appeared in his definitions, and an uncommon use of the ordinary words of language in the enunciation of the fundamental principles of his theory. He was also censured for having attributed to the influence of climate and to physical causes effects which are due solely to moral causes; for having frittered down some subjects into small chapters which have often insignificant or indeterminate titles; for having brought together others which have little or no connection with those which precede and follow them; and for being often so deficient in method and arrangement, that his work, as a whole, is irregular, although many of the parts are exceedingly fine, and that it appears to be in some sort an admirable collection of fragments, made for the purpose of being afterwards arranged and moulded into a regular and systematic form. Lastly, he has been charged with some confusion of ideas, certain forced turns of expression, and a style sometimes strained, and frequently laboured. But although these criticisms appear to be well founded, the reputation of Montesquieu was greatly enhanced by the publication of the Spirit of Laws; and it may be said with truth, that this work alone would have been sufficient to insure him lasting renown, and to constitute a noble monument of his genius, sagacity, and wisdom. For some observations equally liberal, profound, and discriminating, on the work in question, the reader is referred to the first Preliminary Dissertation (part i. sect. iii. p. 94, et seq.).

Montesquieu had resolved not to reply to any of the criticisms which might be made on the Esprit des Lois; but the attacks of an anonymous author, who, in a journal called Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques, had, amongst other things, represented him as an atheist, induced him to deviate from this resolution. In the Lettres Persanes he had treated the Christian religion with too much levity; but afterwards, when his mind was fully matured by age, study, and reflection, he had seen cause to alter his views; and hence, in the Esprit des Lois, he recommends Christianity in expressive terms, not only as the most perfect of all religious systems, but also as the most powerful support of the whole social system. He therefore deemed it of importance to repel the calumnious insinuations of the ecclesiastical journalist; and at the same time he wished to refute by anticipation the theologians of the Sorbonne, who, being dissatisfied with some passages in the Esprit des Lois, were proceeding to condemn the work. It was with this double purpose that he wrote his Defense, which may be considered as a model of solid discussion, light pleasantry, and contemptuous moderation. "What pleases me in my Defense," said he, "is not seeing the venerable theologians grumbled; it is seeing them laid gently upon their backs." But he took no notice whatever of a crowd of brochures, filled with absurd criticisms or gross abuse, which appeared against the Spirit of Laws. The public, said he, avenge me on the one by their contempt, and on the other by their indignation.

The appearance of a book like the Spirit of Laws naturally formed an epoch in political and literary history; but its effect was different in different countries, being greatest in Britain, where it obtained a reputation, which has since continued to increase, and least in France, where its influence was and still is but small. This may be accounted for partly from the different circumstances in which these countries were respectively placed, and partly also from the fact that, whilst Montesquieu pointed out the hazards to which the British constitution was exposed from the incessant conflicts of a tyrannical oligarchy and a turbulent democracy, he had confined his researches to the dark ages of the French monarchy, in regard to which his efforts were doubtful, and his conclusions disputed. But if his work did not prove as useful to his country as he had hoped, the reputation which he acquired in his lifetime far exceeded that which men of letters can ordinarily aspire to obtain. He was considered throughout all Europe as the legislator of nations, and the founder of the philosophy of jurisprudence and politics. But, far from being dazzled by this high reputation, he continued to live like a sage, and to enjoy the society of his friends, dividing his time between his castle of La Brède and Paris, that is, between study and the world. In the country, he occupied himself with gardening and agricultural improvements, and, though jealous of his seignorial rights, was much beloved by the peasantry, whose comfort and happiness it was his object to promote. In the capital he was always a welcome guest, although simple and somewhat negligent in his dress, as well as in his conversation. He was always disposed to render justice to talents, and to relieve merit in distress. One day he received from Henry Sully, an English artist, who had greatly contributed to improve horology in France, the following letter: "I am tempted to hang myself, but I believe nevertheless that I should not do so if I had an hundred crowns." To this Montesquieu immediately replied: "I send you an hundred crowns, my dear Sully; do not hang yourself, and come to see me."

Although in some of his opinions Montesquieu inclined to the sect of the philosophers, like Buffon, and Duclos, and many others, yet he kept aloof from the men, because he loved neither the proselytism of impiety, nor the excesses of the spirit of cabal. Nor was this the only cause of his estrangement from Voltaire. Being in a great measure insensible to the charms of verse, he thought the reputation of that celebrated man usurped, and did not hesitate to express his opinion to that effect; whilst Voltaire, on the other hand, was by no means sparing in malignant reflections and bitter criticisms. In fact, they mutually accused each other of having too much wit, and frequently abusing it in their writings. But Voltaire had an exquisite sense of literary merit, which triumphed over his strongest antipathies; and, under its benign influence, he did justice to the author of the Spirit of Laws, by observing, that when the human race had lost their titles, Montesquieu found and restored them; a fine thought, notwithstanding the epigrammatic form in which it is expressed. But whatever might be his sentiments in regard to Voltaire and the other men of letters of his time, it was only in conversation, or in the intimacy of familiar intercourse, that he allowed the secret of his opinions to escape; he never wrote against any of his contemporaries, and conducted himself with a dignity and wisdom which were the effect of the moderation of his passions, as well as the result of reflection. At the solicitation of D'Alembert and the Chevalier de Jaucourt, Montesquieu, having completed the Esprit des Lois, consented to write for the Encyclopédie, and composed for that work the Essai sur le Goût, some inedited chapters of which were afterwards published in the Archives Littéraires (tom. ii. p. 301).

It appears that soon after the publication of the Esprit des Lois, his physical strength diminished rapidly, and no longer corresponded to his ardour in literary pursuits. He had conceived the design, as he informs us in his journal, of giving greater extension and depth to several parts of the Spirit of Laws; but he found that he had become incapable of carrying his intention into effect. "Mes lectures," says he, "m'ont affaibli les yeux; et il me semble que qu'il me reste encore de lumière, n'est que l'aurore du jour où ils se fermeront pour jamais." And in fact he died soon afterwards, on the 10th of February 1755, at the age of sixty-six, that is, only seven years after the publication of his great work. He was attacked at Paris with a violent inflammatory fever, which, in spite of every effort to arrest Montesquieu has said of Tacitus, that he abridged everything because he saw every thing. This fine eulogium has been applied to Montesquieu himself, and these great men have often been compared. But geniuses of this order have each a particular character of originality, which invalidates such comparisons, and falsifies all the similitudes that are sought to be established between them. Were it necessary to determine the precise degrees of pre-eminence which distinguish Tacitus and Montesquieu, it might be said that the French surpasses the Latin author in the variety and extent of his knowledge, in the grandeur of his conceptions, and in the abundance of his thoughts, but that he yields to the Roman in respect of talent and eloquence; that, in a word, he is greater as a philosopher, but inferior as a writer. Tacitus invariably sustains the dignity of his expressions on a level with the importance of his subject; he impairs not the gravity of his style by ingenious antithesis; and he is careful never to enervate his energetic phraseology, nor to enfeeble the vigour of his narrative, by the graces of wit or the artifices of rhetoric. His penetration and sagacity, fortified by the study of severe models, no less than by his own natural character, saved him from the commission of such faults. But it is not so with Montesquieu, of whose manner as a writer, if we desired to convey an idea by referring to ancient examples, we should say that it consisted of several of the finest qualities of Tacitus, and many of the brilliant defects of Seneca.