ing terms: When he, who has put out your eye, has himself an eye lefs, will you have an eye more? When the man that killed your brother, has fuffered a painful death, will this raife your brother anew to life?-Wait a few days, and then your just refentment will grow more reasonable and calm; you will not be forry to fee, with the eye that is left, a good fum of money, which I will oblige the affaulter to pay you as an indemnification; this will enable you to pafs your life agreeably: befides, the perfon that affaulted you fhall be your flave for a certain number of years, provided you will allow him the use of his two eyes, that he may ferve you better during that time, With respect to the murderer of your brother, he fhall be your flave as long as he lives: I'll render him ufeful to you, to the public, and to himfelf. This manner of proceeding (continues our Author) has taken place in Ruffia, thefe forty years past. The malefactors are obliged to ferve the country, which they have infulted and difhonoured. Their chaftifement is a perpetual admonition, and it is fince this mode of punishment has taken place, that this vaft region has emerged from barbarism ". We fear that neither the caufe nor the effect are here beyond conteftation..

Our Author does not mean here to juftify the barbarous manners and cuftoms of the age of Charlemagne, when every affaffination had its price eftimated by the rank of the perfons whofe throats were cut. Inftead of encouraging murder, he only propofes (fays he) the method of punishing one murder, fo as to prevent its becoming the occafion of another; for (continues he) if there be any cale, where juftice requires that one citizen fhould be hired and paid by the ftate to maffacre another, it can only be where this butchery is neceffary to fave the lives of others. The killing a mad dog is a cafe of this kind. In all other cafes, the criminal ought to be condemned to live, that he may be useful-damage is to be repayed, but death neither repays nor repairs any thing.

Under the tenth article, the fubject of which is Sacrilege, M. de VOLTAIRE has a fair occafion of fhewing the odious barbarity of the penal laws in France, which in a multitude of cafes, both civil and ecclefiaftical, excite horror, shock humanity, and create ftrong fufpicions, that we must not judge of the national character of the French by their gaiety and politenefs. He relates, in a fpirited train, the monftrous story of Abbeville, which happened in 1766, where fome children (as our Author calls them), or rather young men, were condemned to have their hands cut off, their tongues plucked out, and then to be burnt alive. Their crime was irreverence to a wooden image of the Virgin, and an idle fong, fung at table in a drunken frolic: the judges were three magiftrates, of which one

9

(fays

(fays Voltaire) was an enemy to the parents of the unhappy young people, the other a dealer in fwine, and the third was a perfon unknown to our Author ;--- and as to the atrocious and infernal fentence, it was confirmed at the Tribunal of the Great City (Paris) by a majority of fifteen voices against ten. The fentence was executed, with all poffible rigour, by five executioners fent by the Great Tribunal to the place where the fool ifh crime had been perpetrated: and all Europe fhuddered with. horror.'

Pray, gentlemen (fays our Author, addreffing himself to the competitors for the Prize already mentioned), allow me to propofe two questions: the firft is, how men, not worfe than tygers thirsting after human blood, could imagine, that a preponderance of a few votes could juftify the inflicting upon human creatures the most barbarous torments? In England, the jurors must be unanimous, and this appointment is full of clemency.Is there any thing more horribly abfurd, than playing away the life of a fellow-citizen at a game of fix to four, or five to three?

The fecond queftion relates to the crime that was the object of this hideous fentence: it is called high-treafon against God. What kind of high-treafon is this? Is it a plan formed to affaffinate the Deity, as Lycaon propofed to maflacre Jupiter, when the latter came to fup with him? Or is it to make war upon him, like the Titans of old, and the Giants afterwards? Or is it to deny the exiftence of God, as did fome of the impious philofophers of antiquity? Whichever of these may be the crime of the high-treafon under confideration, certain it is, that nothing of either of thefe kinds was practifed by the unhappy youths who were delivered to five hangmen by three ignoramuses.

One of thefe devoted children, who efcaped from the five executioners, is (fays Voltaire) at this time a good officer and a virtuous man. He is in the fervice of a great prince, who, by the favour and protection he grants him, admonishes others not to be in a hurry about burning inconfiderate young men, who may become useful and refpectable members of civil fociety.'Only think of citizens and magiftrates (the Parliament of Paris) who fign in the morning the barbarous order for fuch an abominable butchery, and go in the evening into the circles of gaiety and pleasure, converfe and laugh with the ladies, and shuffle and deal the cards with their bloody hands !---Is it poffible to conceive a more odious and difgufting contraft?'.

We pass over the articles which are infipid and trivial, and finith our account of this Book by fome paffages extracted from the twenty-fecond article, in which M. de VOLTAIRE gives us feveral interefting reflections concerning the nature and firength of proofs and prefumptions.--- He does not think two witnelles fuffi cient to prove the crime of a delinquent; and he alleges feveral

cafes

cafes befide the famous and well-known cafe of the daughter of Sirven, which feem to justify his opinion. A cabal (says hef of the populace of Lyons declared in 1772, that they faw a com→ pany of young people carrying, amidst finging and dancing, the dead body of a young woman, whom they had ravifhed and affaffinated. The depofitions of the witnefles to this abominable fact, or pretended fact, were unanimous; and nevertheless the judges acknowledged, folemnly, in their fentence, that there had been neither finging nor dancing, nor girl violated, nor dead body carried. This may have been, in part, the fault of the judges, who (as our Author infinuates, and even affirms, more than once in this work) are in France often more perfidious and corrupt than the witneffes.-The cafe, indeed, of M. de la Pi vardiere is moft fingular; it is almost incredible, and is neverthelefs (according to our Author) a public fact. Madame de Chauvelin, his fecond wife, was accufed of having had him af faffinated in his caftle. Two fervant-maids were witnesses of the murder. His own daughter heard the cries and laft words of her father: My God! have mercy upon me! One of the maidfervants falling dangerously ill, took the Sacrament, and while fhe was performing this folemn act of religion, declared before God, that her mistress intended to kill her master. Several other witneffes teftified, that they had feen linen ftained with his blood; others declared that they had heard the report of the gun by which the affaffination commenced. His death was

averred. Nevertheless, it at length appeared, that there was no gun fired, no blood shed, no body killed. What remains is ftill more extraordinary. M. de la Pivardiere returned home: he appears in perfon before the judges of the province, who were preparing every thing to execute vengeance on his murderer. The judges are refolved not to lofe their procefs; they affirm to his face that he is dead; they brand him with the accufation of imposture, for faying that he is alive; they tell him, that he de ferves exemplary punishment for coining a lie before the tribunal of juftice; and maintain, that their procedures are more credible than his teftimony. In a word, this criminal process continued eighteen months before the poor gentleman could obtain a declaration of the court, that he was alive.'

M. de VOLTAIRE relates feveral other instances of the criminal precipitation, or ftill more criminal iniquity, of the French tribunals, in condemning to death, in its most cruel forms, innocent, inoffenfive, nay virtuous citizens. The story of Montbailli, who, without an accufer, witnefs, or any pro bable or fufpicious circumftance, was feized by the fuperior tribunal of Arras (in 1770), and condemned to have his hand cut off, to be broken on the wheel, and to be afterwards burned alive, for killing his mother, is one of those horrors, that afto

nish and confound. His fentence was executed; and his wife was on the point of being thrown into the flames as his ac-. complice, when the pleaded her pregnancy, and gave the Chancellor of France, who was informed of this infernal iniquity, time to have the fentence reverfed-when her husband had fallen a victim to the bloody tribunal of Arras. The pen trembles in my hand (cries our Author) while I relate thefe enormities: we have feen, by the letters of feveral French lawyers, that not one year paffes, in which one tribunal or another does not stain the gibbet or the rack with the blood of unfortunate citizens, whofe innocence is afterwards afcertained'-when it is too late.

We are informed this moment, that the work before us is not the laft production, or, at leaft, not the laft publication, of M. de Voltaire; and we have received a piece entitled, The Eulogy and Thoughts of Pafcal, with Commentaries and Augmentations, in three Parts, which are faid to be the true laft words of that celebrated author. We are not yet perfuaded, that this piece comes really from Voltaire. This is the moment of imposture-a multitude of fubaltern writers, who can imitate the orthography of this eminent man, and have dexterity enough to collect and combine fome fhreds of his works, and to mimic fome of the lefs noble parts of his ftyle and manner, will be putting off their literary wares under the cover of his name, and will impofe the more eafily on the credulity of the Public, in that VOLTAIRE was not always equal to himself, but gave us, at different times, excellent, good, bad, and indifferent.--We shall therefore fufpend our account of this new piece, until we have had time to examine both its merit and pretenfions, and fhall now conclude, by throwing together fome of the principal lines of the character of THAT man, over whofe afhes WIT will mourn, CHARITY fend forth a figh, VIRTUE look ferene and unmoved, and RELIGION difdain to affume an afpect of either pleasure or triumph.

VOLTAIRE was a man, fomewhat above middle fize, of an arid bodily conftitution, a meagre countenance, and a flender form. His eye was ardent, quick and penetrating; an air of pleafantry tinged with malignity reigned in his features; the quickness and vivacity of his animal fpirits were fingular beyond expreffion, and the predominant force of his whole mental frame and intellectual powers was always verging towards pleafantry. It was this spirit of pleasantry, that rendered him fociable; he frequented the GREAT, to study their follies and their vices, and to collect anecdotes either of an agreeable or interefting nature, to embellifh his writings, and enable him to take the lead in converfation. In difcourfe, and in his manners, he united the cafe of Ariftippus.with the cynical fpirit of Diogenes. He was inconftant in his friendships, if any of his connexions ever

deferved

deserved that name; and he carried even into the folitude of his philofophical retirement the spirit of a courtier, for he was always facrificing to the rifing fun, and fuffocating with the incenfe of adulation the afcending perfonages on the wheel of fortune. He was reftlefs and inconftant in all his ways—had no fixed tenor of character or conduct—had fits of reason and principle as well as of caprice and paffion. His head was clear, his imagination was lively, and his heart, we fear, was rather corrupt, for he treated every thing with derifion. His pretenfions to humanity and benevolence were great; he undertook and performed noble things in behalf of the most effential rights, privileges, and interefts of mankind; but that we may not be too much dazzled by thefe glaring colours of public virtue, let us take up the moral prifm, and charity and candour will not prevent our learning by the experiment, that an exceffive vanity, and a boundless avarice, were always blending their impure effluvia with thefe rays of light. He was ambitious of adding to his well-deferved fame as a poet, the reputation of a profound philofopher and an eminent hiftorian. The opinions of the learned have been greatly divided about the degree of merit, due to him in these three characters; and here candour and impartial' criticism will fteer a middle way between the pompous adulation of his friends, and the malignant exaggerations of his perfonal enemies. As a poet, he had more wit than genius; and gene-rally speaking, he was more pleafing and affecting, than arduous and fublime. His verfification is eafy, flowing, melodious, enchanting;-his defcriptions lively and touching; and he has painted many fituations, affecting to humanity, with energy and pathos, with the freshest and moft genuine colours of nature and truth. His tragedies, in general, are excellent; his Henriade is a fine poem,-his Pucelle, or Maid of Orleans, ought to be hid in a privy on the fummit of Parnaffus; but it is very fingular, that with fuch an abundant and rich vein of pleafantry and humour as he poffeffed, he was incapable of making any figure in comedy. He was not a profound philofopher, and yet he was far from being ignorant in this line of fcience;-he was a tolerable metaphyfician of the fecond clafs,—and he had, in the earlier parts of his life, made fome proficiency in natural philofophy. We muft not look upon him as a mean hiftorian, becaute he disfigured the Life and Reign of Peter the Great, and compofed a flovenly Hiftory of Ruffia: for his Age of Lewis XIV. His Efay on Univerfal Hiftory, will give him a very confiderable and permanent reputation among the hiftorians of the prefent age. His knowledge was extenfive, his reading prodigious, and his attainments in polite and elegant literature were very great. Notwithin ling all this, he is faid to have been fuperficial; and this may be more or lefs true; for though his application

to