apology may be perfectly confiftent with fincerity and candor, and with that principle of which Pope fays, that "though no science, it is fairly worth the feven." After endeavouring to distinguish and afcertain the separate provinces of reafon and common fenfe, our Author proceeds to investigate, more particularly, their connection and mutual dependence, and the extent of their refpective jurifdictions. It is ftrange, fays he, to obferve, with what reluctance fome people acknowledge the power of inftinct. That man is governed by reafon, and the brates by inttinet, is a favourite topic with fome philofophers; who, like other froward children, fpurn the hand that leads them, and defire, above all things, to be left at their own disposal, Were this boat founded in truth, it might be fuppofed to mean little more, than that man is governed by himself, and the brutes by their Maker. But, luckily for man, it is not founded in truth, but in ignorance, inattention, and felf-conceit. Our inflincs, as well as our rational powers, are far fuperior, both in number and dignity, to thofe which the brutes enjoy; and it were well for us, on many occafions, if we laid our fyftems afide, and were more attentive in obferving thofe impulfes of nature in which reafon has no part, Far be it from me to Ipeak with difrefpect of any of the gifts of God; every work of his is good; but the best things, when abufed, may become pernicious. Reafon is a noble faculty, and, when kept within his proper fphere, and applied to useful purpotes, proves a mean of exalting human creatures almoft to the rank of fuperior beings. But this faculty has been much perverted, often to vile, and often to infignificant purpofes; fometimes chained like a slave or malefactor, and fometimes foaring in forbidden and unknown regions. No wonder, then, if it hath been frequently made the inftrument of feducing and bewildering mankind, and of rendering philofophy contemptible. In the fcience of body, glorious difcoveries have been made by a right ufe of reafon. When men are once fatisfied to take things as they find them; when they believe Nature upon her bare declaration, without fufpecting her of any defign to impofe upon them; when their atmolt ambition is to be her fervants and humble interpreters; then, and not till then, will philofophy profper. But of those who have applied themselves to the fcience of Human Nature, it may truly be faid, (of many of them at leaft), that too much reasoning hath made them mad. Nature fpeaks to us by our external, as well as by our internal, fenfes; it is ftrange, that we should believe her in the one cafe, and not in the other; it is most flrange, that fuppofing her fallacious, we fhould think ourfelves capable of detecting the cheat. Common Senfe tells me, that the ground on which I ftand is hard, material, and folid, and has a real, feparate, independent existence. Berkeley and Hume tell me, that I am impofed upon in this matter; for that the ground under my feet is really an idea in my mind; that its very effence confifts in being perceived; and that the fame inflant it ceafes to be perceived, it must alfo cease to exist: in a word, that to be, and to be perceived, when predicated of the ground, the fun, the starry heavens, or any corporeal object, fignify precifely the fame thing, Now if my common fenfe be mistaken, who fhall afcertain afcertain and correct the mistake? Our reason, it is faid. Are then the inferences of reafon in this infiance clearer, and more decifive, than the dictates of common fenfe? By no means: I ftill truft to my common fenfe as before, and I feel that I must do fo. But fuppofing the inferences of the one faculty as clear and decifive as the dictates of the other, yet who will affure me, that my reafon is lefs liable to mistake than my common fenfe? And if reafon be mistaken, what fhall we fay? Is this miftake to be rectified by a second reasoning, as liable to mistake as the first? In a word, we must deny the diftinction between truth and falfehood, adopt univerfal fcepticism, and wander without end from one maze of error and uncertainty to another; a ftate of mind fo miferable, that Milton makes it one of the torments of the damned;-or elfe we must fuppofe, that one of thefe faculties is naturally of higher authority than the other; and that either reafon ought to fubmit to common fenfe, or common fenfe to reason, whenever a variance happens between them. It has been faid, that every inquiry in philosophy ought to begin with doubt; that nothing is to be taken for granted, and nothing believed, without proof. If this be admitted, it must also be admitted, that reafon is the ultimate judge of truth, to which common fenfe mult continually act in fubordination. But this I cannot admit; because I am able to prove the contrary by the most inconteftible evidence. I am able to prove, that except we believe many things without proof, we never can believe any thing at all; for that all found reafoning muft ultimately reft on the principles of common fenfe, that is, on principles intuitively certain, or intuitively probable; and, confequently, that common fenfe is the ultimate judge of truth, to which reafon muft continually aft in fubordination."-This I fhall prove by a fair induction of particulars.' [To be concluded in another article.] ART. VIII. Letters from M. De Voltaire to feveral of his Friends. Tranflated from the French by the Rev. Dr. Franklin. 12mo. 2s. 6d. 2 s. 6 d. fewed. Davies, &c. 1770. HERE is a particular pleafure in reading thofe produc-. tions of a man of genius which he has not intended for the public. We always perceive in them a more natural picture of the writer than in thofe works which he has prepared with care, and with a view to reputation. It is for this reason that the private correspondence of thofe who have diftinguished themTeives has generally been fought after with the greatest avidity. The collection which is now before us confifts of forty-two letters, and does not exhibit a difagreeable impreffion of their author. Voltaire is not always an inftructive writer, but he never ceases to entertain his readers. His vivacity never forfakes him; and, though he is apt to be talkative, we still liften to him with fatisfaction. The following letter, for example, is written with a great deal of humour: Тя To the Sieur Fez, bookfeller at Avignon. In your letter from Avignon, dated April 30, you propose to fell me, for a thousand crowns, the whole edition of a collection of Voltaire's miftakes, both with regard to maxims and hiftorical facts, which you tell me you printed in the pope's dominions. I think myfelf in confcience obliged to inform you, that in compofing a new edition of my works, I have difcoverd, in the first, above two thoufand crowns worth of errors, and as in quality of author, I have probably mistaken about one half on my own fide; this, you fee, would amount to at leaft twelve thousand livres, fo that I fhould cheat you of nine thoufand francs. Obferve moreover what you get on the account of maxims; this is an affair particularly interefling to all the powers engaged in war, from the Baltic to Gibraltar; I am not therefore in the leaft furprised when you inform me that the work is univerfally fought after. General Laudon, and the whole imperial army, cannot poffibly take lefs than thirty thoufand copies, which you will fell at forty fous a piece; that you know is The king of Pruffia, who is paffionately fond of You may depend alfo on prince Ferdinand; for I As to monks and divines, who deal particularly in this kind of ware, you can't fet them down at lefs, in all parts of Europe, than a hundred thoufand, which makes in all Add to this list about a hundred thousand lovers of the dogmatic amongst the laity Livres. 60,000 60,000 40,000 200,000 200,000 600,000 -- 200,000 1,360,000 • Sum Sum total one million three hundred and fixty thousand livres, which you will touch at one ftroke; from which, fome little expence being deducted, the net produce remaining for you will be at least one million. I cannot, therefore, fufficiently admire your difinterestednefs in facrificing fo large a fum to me, on paying down only three thousand livres. The only thing which could prevent my accepting your propofal, would be the fear of offending Mr. Inquifitor of the Faith, or for the Faith, who, no doubt, has given you his Imprimatur for certain maffes which he will fay for you; that is, if you pay him honeftly for them. This fanétion once given, muft not be given in vain; the faithful muft rejoice in it, and I fhould be afraid of excommunication, were I to fupprefs an edition fo ufeful, approved by a Jacobine, and printed at Avignon. As to your anonymous author, who has dedicated his evening vigils to this important work, I admire his modefty. I beg my best compliments to him, as well as to your ink mer chant. I am in hopes of becoming better, and acknowledging my faults with all humility. Yours, &c.' The letter to M. l'abbé d'Olivet is full of ingenuity and good criticifm; that to the Abbé Trublet is polite, and difcovers an easiness in forgiving an injury, which does honour to the heart of our author: and he has addreffed one to Lord Lyttelton, which has fuch ftrong marks of him, that we shall tranfcribe it as an additional fpecimen of this work *. To my Lord Lyttelton at London. I have read the ingenious Dialogues of the Dead, lately published by your lordship, where I find myself spoken of as a banifhed man, and guilty of many exceffes in my writings. I am obliged, perhaps, for the honour of my country, pub. licly to declare, that I never was banifhed, becaufe I never committed thofe crimes which the author of the Dialogues has thought fit to lay to my charge. No man ever exerted himself more ftrenuously than myself in favour of the rights of humanity, and yet never have I gone beyond the bounds of that virtue. I am not established in Swizerland, as this author, who has been mifinformed, ventures to affert. I live on my own eftate in France. Retirement is fit for old men, who have lived long enough in courts to deteft and avoid them, and who enjoy new life in a peaceable retreat, with a few fenfible and faithful friends. I have indeed a little country houfe * We have feen this letter in print before in fome of our fugitive papers; but it is worth preferving. 6 near near Geneva; but my refidence and feat are in Burgundy. The king's goodness to me, all the privileges belonging to my eftate, and the exemption of it from all taxes, has moreover firmly attached me to his perfon. If I had been banished I could not have procured passports from our court for several of the English nobility. The fervice which I did them gives me a claim to that justice which I expect from the author of the Dialogues. With regard to religion, I think, and I believe he thinks fo too, that God is neither Prefbyterian nor Lutheran, high or low church, but the Father of all mankind, of Lord Lyttelton, and of VOLTAIRE.' From the caftle of Ferney, in Burgundy. The letters in this collection, which are fuppofed to be written by baron Montefquieu, bear evident marks of that fuperior genius. They are profound, and have that boldness of fentiment which characterizes him. Among the letters addrefled to Voltaire, there is one from Mr. Haller *, which is full of humanity and noblenefs of thought; and we beg leave to enrich this article with it. Voltaire had written to him to refufe his protection to a person who had offended him. This requeft Mr. Haller thought improper, and he refufes it: he cenfures Voltaire, but in fuch a manner as could not be difagreeable to him, SIR, Mr. Haller to Mr. de Voltaire. Your letter has given me the greatest concern. I fee and admire a gentleman poffeffed of riches and independency, who has it in his power to chufe the beft company, equally applauded by monarchs and by the public, and immortalized by fame; and fhall I behold this very man lofing all his peace and quiet, only in endeavouring to prove, that one man has ftolen from him, and another is not yet convinced whether he has or no? • Providence holds an equal balance to all mankind; it has fhowered down riches and glory upon you. You must have your misfortunes alfo, and it has found out the equal poife against your happinefs, by giving you too much fenfibility. The perfon whom you complain of would lofe very little by lofing the protection of a man, who has long laid ‡ hidden in an obfcure corner of the world, and who is happy in having no influence or connections. The laws alone have here power A celebrated philofopher and poet of Switzerland. This is perhaps an error of the prefs. to |