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This Voltaire passage appears to be one of the earliest philosophical critiques of meat-eating in European Enlightenment literature.
Within this essay, section XV (Roman numeral 15) is titled "Du mal, et en premier lieu de la destruction des bêtes". This section deals with animal suffering and killing animals for food.
Maybe I am wrong to call this essay obscure, but it took some searching to track down the original French version in a scanned book. The essay seems to appear in some late collected editions of Voltaire’s philosophical works, especially those based on the edition by Adrien‑Jean‑Quentin Beuchot.
I found the original French text in the Garnier (Paris) edition volume 28 from 1879, titled "Oeuvres complètes de Voltaire : avec notices, préfaces, variantes, table analytique, les notes de tous les commentateurs et des notes nouvelles, conforme pour le texte à l'édition de Beuchot, enrichie des découvertes les plus récentes et mise au courant des travaux qui ont paru jusqu'à ce jour" (pages 534/535).
A footnote in this 1879 French edition (page 517) says: "In his last manuscript, the author had corrected the title [i.e., "Il faut prendre un parti, ou le principe d'action. Diatribe"] as follows: Il faut prendre un parti, ou du principe d'action et de l'éternité des choses, par l'abbé de Tilladet. [One Must Take a Side, or On the Principle of Action and the Eternity of Things, by the Abbé de Tilladet.] Voltaire himself, in paragraph XVI, dates this work August 1772."
English translation (1912)
I also found an official English translation from 1912 (archive.org; gutenberg.org) by Joseph McCabe: "Toleration and other essays", G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London, The Knickerbocker Press, 1912 (pages 229-231). This text should be in the public domain.
Below you can see the English translation from 1912. For the words highlighted in yellow, please see the comments on the translation at the end.
"
[...]
WE MUST TAKE SIDES; Or, the Principle of Action
[...]
xvOF EVIL AND, IN THE FIRST PLACE, THE DESTRUCTION OF BEASTS
We have never had any idea of good and evil, save in relation to ourselves. The sufferings of an animal seem to us evils, because, being animals ourselves, we feel that we should excite compassion if the same were done to us. We should have the same feeling for a tree if we were told that it suffered torment when it was cut ; and for a stone if we learned that it suffers when it is dressed. But we should pity the tree and the stone much less than the animal, because they are less like us. Indeed, we soon cease to be touched by the awful destiny of the beasts that are intended for our table. Children who weep at the death of the first chicken they see killed laugh at the death of the second.
It is only too sure that the disgusting carnage of our butcheries and kitchens does not seem to us an evil. On the contrary, we regard this horror, pestilential as it often is, as a blessing of the Lord ; and we still have prayers in which we thank him for these murders. Yet what can be more abominable than to feed constantly on corpses?
Not only do we spend our lives in killing, and devouring what we have killed, but all the animals slaughter each other ; they are impelled to do so by an invincible instinct. From the smallest insects to the rhinoceros and the elephant, the earth is but a vast battle-field, a world of carnage and destruction. There is no animal that has not its prey, and that, to capture it, does not employ some means equivalent to the ruse and rage with which the detestable spider entraps and devours the innocent fly. A flock of sheep devours in an hour, as it crops the grass, more insects than there are men on the earth.
What is still more cruel is that in this horrible scene of reiterated murder we perceive an evident design to perpetuate all species by means of the bloody corpses of their mutual enemies. The victims do not expire until nature has carefully provided for new representatives of the species. Everything is born again to be murdered.
Yet I observe no moralist among us, nor any of our fluent preachers or boasters, who has ever reflected in the least on this frightful habit, which has become part of our nature. We have to go back to the pious Porphyry and the sympathetic Pythagoreans to find those who would shame us for our bloody gluttony ; or we must travel to the land of the Brahmans. Our monks, the caprice of whose founders has bade them renounce the flesh, are murderers of soles and turbots, if not of partridges and quails. Neither among the monks, nor in the Council of Trent, nor in the assemblies of the clergy, nor in our academies, has this universal butchery ever been pronounced an evil. There has been no more thought given to it in the councils of the clergy than in our public-houses.
Hence the great being is justified of these butcheries in our eyes ; or, indeed, we are his accomplices.
[...]
"
Comments on the 1912 English translation
The translation is generally very good, but it does not always closely follow the original French. The following three passages are probably the clearest deviations from the original:
Instead of ...
- ... "they are impelled to do so by an invincible instinct" the original French says "ils y sont portés par un attrait invincible": they are driven to it by an irresistible attraction.
- ... "a vast battle-field, a world of carnage and destruction" the original French says "un vaste champ de guerres, d’embûches, de carnage": a vast field of wars, ambushes, carnage.
- ... "boasters" the original French says "aucun même de nos tartufes": not even one of our religious hypocrites.
English translation (2026)
ONE MUST
TAKE A SIDE
or
THE PRINCIPLE OF ACTION
DIATRIBE
XV. — On evil, and first of all on the destruction of beasts.
We have never been able to form any idea of good and evil except in relation to ourselves. The sufferings of an animal seem to us to be evils because, being animals ourselves, we judge that we should be greatly pitied if the same were done to us. We should feel the same compassion for a tree if we were told that it experienced torment when cut down, and for a stone, if we learnt that it suffered when hewn; yet we should pity the tree and the stone far less than the animal, because they resemble us less. Indeed, we soon cease to be moved by the dreadful death of the beasts destined for our table. Children who weep at the death of the first chicken they see slaughtered laugh at the second chicken.
In the end, it is only too certain that this revolting slaughter, laid out perpetually in our butchers' shops and our kitchens, does not strike us as an evil; on the contrary, we regard this horror — often pestilential — as a blessing from the Lord, and we still have prayers in which He is thanked for these murders. And yet what can be more abominable than to sustain oneself continually upon corpses?
Not only do we spend our lives killing and devouring what we have killed, but all animals slaughter one another; they are driven to it by an irresistible attraction. From the smallest insects to the rhinoceros and the elephant, the earth is nothing but a vast field of warfare, ambush, carnage, and destruction; there is no animal that does not have its prey, and that does not employ, in seizing it, the equivalent of the cunning and ferocity with which the execrable spider lures and devours the innocent fly. A flock of sheep devours more insects in an hour, whilst grazing, than there are men upon the earth.
And what is crueller still is that in this horrible scene of ever-renewed murders, one can plainly discern a deliberate design to perpetuate all species by means of the bloody carcasses of their mutual enemies. These victims expire only after nature has carefully provided for fresh ones to take their place. Everything is reborn for murder.
And yet I see no moralist amongst us, none of our loquacious preachers, not even any of our religious hypocrites, who has given the least thought to this dreadful habit, which has among us become second nature. One must go all the way back to the pious Porphyry and the compassionate Pythagoreans to find anyone who makes us ashamed of our bloodthirsty gluttony; or else one must travel among the Brahmins — for as for our monks, whom the whims of their founders have led to renounce flesh, they are slaughterers of soles and turbots if not of partridges and quails; and neither among the monks, nor at the Council of Trent, nor in our ecclesiastical assemblies, nor in our academies, has anyone yet thought to give the name of evil to this universal butchery. It has been no more considered in the councils than in the taverns. The Supreme Being is thus acquitted amongst us of this butchery — or else He has us for his accomplices.
[...]
"
Side note: Voltaire is mocking the traditional Catholic distinction whereby fish did not count as flesh for fasting purposes. The monks renounce la chair ("flesh") — but continue eating the flesh of fish, and Voltaire's point is that this distinction is self-serving and quite absurd. The mention of partridges and quails alongside fishes (soles and turbots) alludes to different monastic orders having different rules, with some renouncing all terrestrial animal flesh (mammals and birds), but in almost all cases the killing of fish is treated as unproblematic among Catholic monks.
