mysteries of the faith, no direct denunciation even of the notorious
abuses of the church. Yet we feel that the atmosphere of the book may
well have been displeasing to authorities who had not yet learnt to
encounter the modern spirit on equal terms. The _Encyclopaedia_ takes
for granted the justice of religious tolerance and speculative freedom.
It asserts in distinct tones the democratic doctrine that it is the
common people in a nation whose lot ought to be the main concern of the
nation's government. From beginning to end it is one unbroken process of
exaltation of scientific knowledge on the one hand, and pacific industry
on the other. All these things were odious to the old governing classes
of France; their spirit was absolutist, ecclesiastical and military.
Perhaps the most alarming thought of all was the current belief that the
_Encyclopaedia_ was the work of an organized band of conspirators
against society, and that a pestilent doctrine was now made truly
formidable by the confederation of its preachers into an open league.
When the seventh volume appeared, it contained an article on "Geneva,"
written by D'Alembert. The writer contrived a panegyric on the pastors
of Geneva, of which every word was a stinging reproach to the abbes and
prelates of Versailles. At the same moment Helvetius's book, _L'Esprit_,
appeared, and gave a still more profound and, let us add, a more
reasonable shock to the ecclesiastical party. Authority could brook no
more, and in 1759 the _Encyclopaedia_ was formally suppressed.

The decree, however, did not arrest the continuance of the work. The
connivance of the authorities at the breach of their own official orders
was common in those times of distracted government. The work went on,
but with its difficulties increased by the necessity of being
clandestine. And a worse thing than troublesome interference by the
police now befell Diderot. D'Alembert, wearied of shifts and
indignities, withdrew from the enterprise. Other powerful colleagues,
Turgot among them, declined to contribute further to a book which had
acquired an evil fame. Diderot was left to bring the task to an end as
he best could. For seven years he laboured like a slave at the oar. He
wrote several hundred articles, some of them very slight, but many of
them most laborious, comprehensive and ample. He wore out his eyesight
in correcting proofs, and he wearied his soul in bringing the manuscript
of less competent contribut