work was a protest. We need not complain very
loudly that while remonstrating against the restless
intrepidity of the rationalists of his generation,
he passed over the central truth, namely that the
full and ever festal life is found in active freedom
of curiosity and search taking significance, motive,
force, from a warm inner pulse of human love and sympathy.
It was not given to Rousseau to see all this, but
it was given to him to see the side of it for which
the most powerful of the men living with him had no
eyes, and the first Discourse was only a moderately
successful attempt to bring his vision before Europe.
It was said at the time that he did not believe a
word of what he had written.[172] It is a natural
characteristic of an age passionately occupied with
its own set of ideas, to question either the sincerity
or the sanity of anybody who declares its sovereign
conceptions to be no better than foolishness.
We cannot entertain such a suspicion. Perhaps
the vehemence of controversy carries him rather further
than he quite meant to go, when he declares that if
he were a chief of an African tribe, he would erect
on his frontier a gallows, on which he would hang
without mercy the first European who should venture
to pass into his territory, and the first native who
should dare to pass out of it.[173] And there are many
other extravagances of illustration, but the main
position is serious enough, as represented in the
emblematic vignette with which the essay was printed—the
torch of science brought to men by Prometheus, who
warns a satyr that it burns; the satyr, seeing fire
for the first time and being fain to embrace it, is
the symbol of the vulgar men who, seduced by the glitter
of literature, insist on delivering themselves up to
its study.[174] Rousseau’s whole doctrine hangs
compactly together, and we may see the signs of its
growth after leaving his hands in the crude formula
of the first Discourse, if we proceed to the more audacious
paradox of the second.
II.
The Discourse on the Origin of Inequality among men
opens with a description of the natural state of man,
which occupies considerably more than half of the
entire performance. It is composed in a vein which
is only too familiar to the student of the literature
of the time, picturing each habit and thought, and
each step to new habits and thoughts, with the minuteness,
the fulness, the precision, of one who narrates circumstances
of which he has all his life been the close eye-witness.
The natural man reveals to us every motive, every process
internal and external, every slightest circumstance
of his daily life, and each element that gradually
transformed him into the non-natural man. One
who had watched bees or beetles for years could not
give us a more full or confident account of their
doings, their hourly goings in and out, than it was
the fashion in the eighteenth century to give of the
walk and conversation of the primeval ancestor.
The conditions of primitive man were discussed by
very incompetent ladies and gentlemen at convivial
supper parties, and settled with complete assurance.[175]