(Pantophile Diderot was
the nickname given to the subject of this entry by none other than Voltaire. A
true Encyclopedist at heart, Diderot was terribly interested in
practically everything worth being interested in, hence the nickname (Pantophile=lover
of everything). Being one of the creators (with the great mathematician D’Alembert) of the historically celebrated Encyclopédie, he
has thus earned the title Encyclopedist in both literal and figurative
senses.
Ironically, but understandably,
my dearly beloved Bertrand Russell makes no mention of him in his History of Western Philosophy, but my
other frequent prince of reference sources, Webster’s
Biographical Dictionary, has a comparatively large entry on him, which is
equally understandable:
“Diderot,
Denis. Nicknamed Pantophile Diderot. 1713-1784.
French encyclopedist and philosopher, born at Langres. Educated by the Jesuits;
published first philosophical work of importance, Lettre sur les Aveugles (1749); thrown into prison because of
certain parts of this work. Released to work with d’Alembert on the Encyclopédie (see Ephraim Chambers);
labored 20 years (1751-1772) at this task; aided by Voltaire, Montesquieu,
Rousseau, Buffon, Turgot, Quesnay and others; work published as Encyclopédie, ou Dictionnaire Raisonné des
Sciences, des Arts et des Métiers (in 28 volumes, increased by a 6-volume
supplement, 1776-1777, and by 2 volumes of tables, 1780), a work of practical
value, and an active force during the period of the Enlightenment.
Simultaneously aided friends (see Melchior Grimm) in literary work, composed 2
plays, Le Fils Naturel (1757) and Le Pere de Famille (1758), and wrote Les Salons (1759-79), in which criticism
of pictorial art was elevated and given greater scope. Sold library to
Catherine II of Russia to raise dowry for his daughter; visited St. Petersburg
(1773-1774); spent last years in literary pursuits. Several works including the
novels Jacques le Fataliste and Le Neveu
de Rameau, were published posthumously.”
***
Denis Diderot (1713-1784) is a
sentimental favorite among the Russians, and the reason for this will present itself
in good time. But before we get to these informalities, let us have a brief
formal introduction to him.
He received his initial education
in philosophy, and then rejected the idea of entering the clergy or pursuing
the legal profession. Instead, he became a writer with a penchant for
philosophizing. His first philosophical work of lasting importance was the
iconoclastic Lettre sur les aveugles à l’usage de ceux qui
voient, where he showed a particular daring as an original thinker,
attacking certain religious dogmas and perceptions, and as a result was
imprisoned, but later released on the condition of never publishing anything
prejudicial again. Having been released, he joined forces with the great French
mathematician philosopher D’Alembert in their biggest and most ambitious
project, which was, of course, the incomparable Encyclopédie, ou Dictionnaire
raisonné des sciences, des arts et des métiers, par une société de gens de
lettres, mis en ordre par M. Diderot de l’Académie des Sciences et Belles-Lettres
de Prusse, et quant à la partie mathématique, par M. d’Alembert de l’Académie
royale des Sciences de Paris, de celle de Prusse et de la Société royale de
Londres. (Observe that, because of his lack of interest in pursuing
academic formalities, Diderot was not a member of the French Académie,
but he had nevertheless been elected to the Prussian Academy!)
In the preparation of their
monumental work, the two men were aided by the greatest minds of France, such
as Voltaire, Montesquieu, Rousseau, Buffon, Turgot, Quesnay, and others, who
contributed learned articles to the effort. The initial twenty-eight volumes
were published between 1751 and 1772, followed by six supplementary volumes in
1776-1777, and by two volumes of tables in 1780.
And now comes the informal, or
rather, more personal, but no less relevant in the formal sort of way, part. It
concerns the relationship between Diderot and the Russian Empress Catherine the
Great. The Empress was a great connoisseuse (feminine of connoisseur!)
of genius, and, being a true Russian by spirit (although she was German by
birth), she realized that by becoming a patron of the European genius, she was
working ad maiorem Russiae gloriam. To make a long story short, she
entered into a copious correspondence with the greatest minds of Europe, such
as Voltaire (famously) and, of course, the renowned Encyclopedist Diderot.
Having learned that Diderot was in financial trouble (he earned virtually
nothing from the publication of his Encyclopédie) and resorted to
the desperate act of selling his famous library, to provide for his daughter,
the Russian Empress bought the whole library from Diderot on the condition, set
by her herself, that the library was to stay with Diderot until his death, and
he would even be paid for keeping it, as its official caretaker!
Diderot did not fail to
appreciate the generosity of Catherine’s offer, and he decided to go to Russia,
to thank her personally. He stayed in Russia for five whole months, having
frequent regular meetings with Catherine, in which he shared with her his
outrageous revolutionary political ideas. The Empress, wisely, did not argue
with the great thinker. Instead, she told him the following: “M. Diderot, I have listened with great pleasure to
everything that your brilliant mind has engendered. Your lofty ides can
wonderfully fill books, but they can hardly be fulfilled in practice. You labor
on paper, which can suffer just about anything, whereas this poor Empress
before you has to work for common mortals, whose sensibilities are fragile to
the extreme…”
Diderot left Russia in February
1774, and lived the rest of his life in France in welcome leisure, working on
his most cherished projects without concerning himself about his own or his
family’s subsistence, thanks to the generous Russian allowance. This deal
worked perfectly for both parties. While increasing the stature of Diderot all
over Europe, it would give a big boost to Russia’s international image as a
citadel of European progress, the preeminent sponsor of free thought and
liberalism in the world. A very unexpected, and rather disconcerting image, for
Russia’s numerous ill-wishers and habitual detractors.
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