They were so driven, in a manner which it is impossible to enter into detail, for sources exist from which monstrous and mournful particulars might be extracted; but the general fact is all that is necessary in this place. It will therefore suffice to repeat, that at length the Edict of Nantz was formally repealed, Protestants refused liberty of conscience, their temples demolished, their children torn from them. and, to crown all, attempts were even made to impede their emigration. They were to be inclosed like wild beasts, and hunted down at leisure.

Such were the facts and horrors which must, in the first instance, have encoun tered and confirmed the incipient scepticism of Voltaire. What calm man, of any or of no religion, can now hear of them without shuddering and execration? and what such feel now, it is reasonable to suppose that a mind predisposed like that of Voltaire must have felt then. It is evident that, from his earliest manhood, he declared war against the whole fabric of priestcraft and superstition, from which such mighty mischiefs emanated. But such was the combination of the horrible and ridiculous which indisputably encountered the youth of Voltaire; and whether for invective, for argument, or for jibe, it is impossible that an enemy to superstition, fanaticism, and priestly domination, with their attendant horrors of cruelty, intolerance, and persecution, who was at the same time a poet, wit, satirist, and philosopher, could be more irresistibly urged into a warfare which was to distinguish the whole of a long future life.

It only remains to enquire how tar his subsequent experience was of a nature to confirm these opinions. The regency of Philip of Orleans, however dissolute as to morals and manners, was comparatively philosophical on the subject of religion. The usual re-action had, in fact, begun to take place; and that contemptuous indifference was engendering for religious disputation, which never fails to follow an excess of it. The enormous power and influence of a corrupt, intolerant, and ambitious clergy, was, however, a stationary evil in France; and there was always sufficient going forward to keep in activity so determined and indefatigable an opponent as Voltaire. The despicable reign of Louis XV. was certainly not much encumbered with the devotion or fanaticism of the monarch; but the horrible ini-. quities practised by the provincial parliaments-the bigotted persecutions which disgraced the local jurisdictions—and the protection these atrocities received from the episcopacy, remained. However divided into factions and engaged in interminable contests among themselves about the grace of God, the dignified clergy uniformly threw their effective shield over the blundering cruelties which were perpetrated in the genuine spirit of intolerant orthodoxy.

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To conclude in as far as regards the operation of the philosophers, and of Voltaire in particular, it is the duty of superior intellect to be eternally active and restless against oppression and misgovernment, and to diffuse the superior light which it has collected. It is the duty of governments, on the other hand, to be the first to receive these lights, which are sure in the end to become general; and if, instead of this, they studiously reject them, the baleful consequences are of their own creation society at large cannot and will not wait for them. The writings of Voltaire and his coadjutors, at great personal risk, pointed out abuses which were becoming unbearable; they were unattended to, and the result is a matter of history. Wisdom, in the proper place, might have made it better; but the consequences might have been worse. Enormous as was the temporary endurance, it bears no comparison with the aggregate amount of oppression and suffering in the two reigns of Louis XIV. and XV.; and to present and future France, even with a Bourbon on the throne, the great gain is unequivocal.

Next to fanaticism and superstition, Voltaire appears to have endeavoured with

the utmost anxiety to rectify the injustice of the public tribunals, especially in the provinces, which were in the habit of committing legal murders with a facility which could only be equalled by the impunity. Against the execrable tyranny of lettres de cachet, by which he himself suffered more than once, he occasionally darted his very powerful inuendos; but, after all, nothing has dropped from him of a nature to lead his readers to suppose that he contemplated anything beyond a regulation of the monarchy, and an extinction of priestly influence; but certainly his daydreams never went beyond the model of Great Britain. The same thing cannot be exactly affirmed of such of his disciples as reached the revolution; but neither the one nor the other ever contemplated outrage, violence, or transfer of property. No matter what the religious opinions of Voltaire were, he uniformly inculcates political moderation, religious tolerance, and general good will. It would be well if all devout people did the same.

Looking, therefore, at the general labours of this premier genius of France for the benefit of his fellow creatures, he must at all events be regarded as a bold, active, and able philanthropist, upon his own theory, even by those who in many respects disagree with it. It is a poor matter in abatement to allege the various discrepancies, inconsistences, and apparent disingenuities that were forced upon him by the influence which he thwarted, and the tyranny which he undermined. It is very pleasant in the aiders and abetters of despots and inquisitors to require so high a degree of punctilious sincerity in those who oppose them. The exercise of the natural rights of mankind is first rendered dangerous; and then the unhappy necessity of avoiding the danger is constituted a new crime. If you persist in delivering your opinions to your fellow-creatures, you shall be fined, imprisoned, hanged, beheaded, or burned; and having done so, you are the most dishonourable of human beings if you equivocate in the slightest degree in order to escape from such desirable penalties!

Attend for instance to the particular situation of Voltaire. It is well observed by Condorcet, that if he had lived a few years earlier, the eminent services which he has rendered mankind could not have been executed; and that he, of all men, was best adapted to effect the greatest possible good in the relaxed yet still dangerous and equivocal times in which he arose. And why was he thus adapted? Because his spirit was Protean and ductile-because he could assume all shapes, practise every mode of warfare, and fly like a Parthian, only the more effectually to wound. Had this not been the case, Voltaire would have been cut off long before he redressed the horrible treatment of the Calas family, and redeemed the memory of the religiously-murdered head of it. As it was, he was twice imprisoned, once or twice obliged to fly, and in constant danger of the most hostile proceedings and vindictive prosecutions. The magnanimity of incurring these risks, in order to open the eyes of mankind to the nature of the pestilential superstition which was rendering them the wolfish shedders of each others blood, inhuman haters, persecutors, and slanderers, is surely a very tolerable set-off against a little faltering and finesse, when such risks became imminent. His character would have stood higher, had he exhibited less versatility; but still it must be conceded that the sacrifice of fortune, liberty, country, or life, is of a nature to shake the spirits of most men. Martyrdom is not the talent of all the world; not to mention that it is only silly when its avoidance is more serviceable to a cause than its endurance.

The only just and liberal mode of settling the merits and failings of Voltaire, is not to judge him from some abstract idea of perfection, but as a great man, who, although born in the most dissolute and corrupt capital in the world, and early introduced into its most seductive circles, dedicated himself to the Herculean and

dangerous labour of attacking and disarming a noxious superstition, which for centuries has stood in the way of all human improvement, in every land in which it has been seated in the fulness of power. Regarded in this single point of view, he is to be esteemed a benefactor to his own country in particular, and to human nature in general. That noxious superstition he has been a main cause of disarming; and we hesitate not to say, that the man who so washed it out of the minds of the large population of his country, that the faction intent on reviving it in its pristine fearfulness have no alternative but to begin again, has all but succeeded. A calm and enlightened lover of his species can form but one opinion—that it has uniformly opposed itself to political freedom, and the progressive amelioration of the social state. It never had-it never will have, more than one claim to consideration, and that is, when its own oppression is re-acted on itself—its own maxims put into force. It is no nice estimation of the mode of attack and of the nature of the weapon-no casuistical refinement upon the exact point when discretion failed, when the argument was carried too far, and when the assailant ought to have paused-which can rob Voltaire of the honest fame of having broken down, and for ever, the most baleful order of domination that ever existed, and that by the arms of wit, reason, and adventurous exposure alone. It must be something more than a few lightminded and fantastical inconsistencies, which can erase the name of this man from the list of the benefactors to mankind.

But great as are his claims on this score, they by no means form his only title to the gratitude of his fellow creatures. It is trite to observe, that books are useful in proportion as they are read; and that the most able and elaborate productions, if only partially perused, must be comparatively inefficient. The elegant and perspicuous style in which Voltaire conveyed his various information, the fascinating brilliancy of his allusion, the picquant attraction of his wit, and the easy flow of his narrative, made readers of everybody; and such is the spontaneous and natural order of his thoughts, that his prose is less injured by translation than that of any other author on record. Such have been the operation of these charms, it would be difficult to say how much his contemporaries and posterity owe to the labours of Voltaire; for, setting aside his diligent and never-neglected exposure of superstition and priestcraft, and their historical train of horrors, he uniformly inculcates the finest lessons of humanity, and those improved views of the genuine nature of the social progress, which are now beyond any power to unsettle, if not to impede. It must never be forgotten, that he wrote for everybody; and it would be immensely useful if other able men would do the same. A German taste exists at this time, which affects an amazing contempt for writers whom all the world can understand, and consequently for Voltaire. The perfection of human genius, in such estimation, is exhibited in the art of mystification. Common thoughts are born aloft into the clouds, and we no longer know them for that which they were, and still less for any thing else; and all this is played off with a gravity of pretension, which is quite edifying. These are not the levers by which society can be rectified or exalted, nor were they those of Voltaire. The cant of philanthropy is as despicable as any other cant; and mind must exercise itself in various departments; but the quiddities and conundrums of this class of writers, in comparison with the effective and manly exertions of Voltaire, resemble the learned lucubrations of the schoolmen in opposition to the effective intellectuality of Bacon.

It would be an endless task to attempt to refute the objections raised against Voltaire and his writings. The great privilege of a critic to find fault, because things do not square with his ideal theory of right and wrong, has been fully exercised against him. Condorcet distinctly states, that his great object was to destroy

Christianity; but we must recollect that it was Roman Catholic Christianity; and we well know what that is termed by our purer Protestant evangelical errand-boys of God. We have been told that Catholicism is idolatry; but when that idolatry is attacked, common cause is made with it by the professors of supernatural magic, let them be of whatever sect they may. Thus, when the French revolution drove away the priests, the impostors of a religion which for three hundred years we had been told was damnable and idolatrous-what an outcry was made against the impious atheists, infidels, Jacobins, and rebels. But the most curious of all was the fact, that Goddle Mity was so often on the side of these atheists! Had he been bribed, or had his thunder slept? So much for a protecting Providence. No matter! there must be a religion, a superstition, a mysterious power, to awe the wicked and confound the guilty; says one sapient caviller of Voltaire :-" when the Romans became wise enough to despise the oracles of their forefathers, and the augurs almost laughed in each others' faces, then they ceased to respect an oath, and the sanctity of their domestic life was exchanged for the most abominable prostitution." Now this is false-a naked lie. All that has been called religion, has hitherto been the promoter of every kind of immorality and debauchery among men. Those weak minds who believe in it know that, at the last hour, they can have redemption of their sins through the blood of the Lamb which was shed for all; and those of stronger minds, who are interested in perpetuating the existing plunder and oppression, never let the dogmas of religion restrain their rapacity. A fig for the other world! give us this, and take heaven entirely to yourself, say the priest and the oppressor.-" For it were easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven." It would seem, indeed, as if the dogmas of religion were invented for the purpose of testing the powers of human credulity-as if there was no verbal or moral contradiction but what they could compel us to acknowledge, in entire defiance of our physical faculties. The object of all priesthood, from the pope at the Vatican to the ranting sectarian, is to live at ease upon the labours of others. "They toil not, neither do they spin; yet Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these." In this they all agree most wonderfully. For this end they keep up a most incessant clamour against all other forms of superstition, in order to prevent their deluded followers from calmly discovering the foul imposture by which they are entangled and deluded. Religion hath never been a restraint against the oppression of the powerful, in order to sustain the poor and afflicted. Passions, mischievous to society, are never restrained by religion, or what is so called; and the doctrine of a future state has never deterred men in power from pursuing their iniquitous aggrandisements. The other world is the reward for unhappy virtue,' says one. Aye, the other world! look there for a recompense! The more you are trampled upon, galled, goaded, and plundered, the brighter will be your reward hereafter; you will become angels, archangels, and the Lord only knows what else besides. Aye, this is true and pure and undefiled religion; this is the true creed from the Thames to the Tiber, from the Nile to the Niger, from the Ganges to the Gulf of New Orleans. To shake in some degree this mighty system of superstition and of plunder was the object of Voltaire, and he succeeded more than any other man could have done that had been born about the same period of time. He was as a willow that bent before the storm which uprooted the oak. His very compliance with the forms of the church-his eagerness to be reconciled to it-his taking of the sacrament and his death, and his avowal that he died a Catholic-were but so many distinct assertions that he was compelled to bend before a power which he abhorred, and which the whole tenor of his life and writing was calculated to destroy. No man can afford to be independent even now, wheft fifty

years have elapsed since the French revolution. No oaths, no promises, can be said to be binding that are extorted by superior power, whether exercised against the person, or fortune, or comforts of the victim. Is the rack the best argument of the holy and pious truths of the Christian religion? Yet is the rack trifling compared with the persecution, the calumny, that Voltaire had to experience throughout his long career-a period of upwards of fifty years. His unwearied industry, his rank as a tragic poet, his position in society as a French gentleman, his independent fortune, were all necessary to be combined in one individual to enable him to assail with success the mass of priestly power and courtly corruption. He did more than any other man could have done. He excited indignation, contempt, and derision, and the force of his ridicule was owned by men who scorned to be moved by his arguments. As a philosopher, he was the first to afford an example of a private citizen who, by his wishes and his endeavours, embraced the general history of man in every country and in every age, opposing error and oppression of every kind, and defending and promulgating every useful truth. The history of whatever has been done in Europe, in favour of reason and humanity, is the history of his labour and beneficent acts. If the liberty of the press be increased; if the Catholic clergy have lost their dangerous power, and have been deprived of some of their most scandalous wealth; if the love of humanity be now the common language of all governments; if the continent of Europe have been taught that men possess a right to the use of reason; if religious prejudices have been eradicated from the higher classes of society, and in part effaced from the hearts of the common people: if we have beheld the masks stripped from the faces of those religious sectaries who were privileged in imposing on the world; and if reason for the first time has begun to shed its clear and uniform light over all Europe-we shall everywhere discover, in the history of the changes that have been effected, the name of Voltaire.

It only remains to explain to the reader, that the French edition of the Philosophical Dictionary from which this translation is made, is a far more comprehensive collection than the one originally published under that name by Voltaire. It contains not only that work, but the contents of another publication called "Questions on the Encyclopædia;" of a manuscript dictionary entitled a "Dictionary of Opinion;" the articles of Voltaire inserted in the French Encyclopædia; a few designed for the Dictionary of the French Academy; and various minor pieces of a still more miscellaneous nature. Like all other dictionaries of facts and opinions connected with the progress of knowledge, time has made some havoc connected with a portion of its contents. Several articles are superseded by the extension of physical and economical science since they were written, as well as by increased information in every direction. These necessary omissions are augmented by leaving out a portion of disquisition which never could interest out of France, nor even in France any longer; including remarks on very local and obsolete laws; on minute peculiarities of the French language, and critical observations on the passing drama, and on French poetry, which have been repeated from other sources almost to satiety. Some repetitions, also, for which the French editors claim indulgence in a work thus got together, are carefully removed. These, and a few other kindred reductions, will reduce the work only about one-eighth of the original; and by giving a small but remarkably clear type, the publisher is able to supply the public with a work for Ten Shillings which before cost Fifty; and at the same time, for elegance and neatness, will be found worthy a place in the collection of every man of liberal and independent mind, who esteems genius, reverences truth, and detests priest craft, superstition, and tyranny.

END OF THE LIFE OF VOLTAIRE.