argument against each by saying, 'This strange paradox, or this flagrant sophistry, we implicitly receive without question because it comes from so superlative a genius; if any other human being had said it, we should have felt some faint scruples, but in the present case it becomes us to submit without a murmur;" then, dropping the momentary irony, proceed to open invective and abuse. The reader, we suppose, would soon get heartily sick of such a frigid style.

The little sympathy which Voltaire evinced in the cause of political and civil liberty; the indulgence he showed for absolute kings compared with his bitter hatred of priests, have sometimes led his advocates to say that he had but little to do with the excesses of the French Revolution, and that the odium often cast on his name, as one who had sown the seed which sprang up in such a portentous harvest, has been undeserved. To a certain extent, the statement is just. He no doubt would never have abetted those wild Utopian theories of government, those anarchical principles, which the Revolution developed and consecrated. Rousseau, with inferior talents and reputation, and influencing fewer readers, had far more to do with the visionary hopes of the political doctrinaires of the Revolution. His Contrat Social and other works had unquestionably a very extensive and pernicious effect in awakening fanatical expectations of a political millennium, founded on impossible conditions of an absolute equality. The cant of sentimental philanthropy which pervades these theories gave them a plausible air, and for a time lulled multitudes in dreams of a coming social Elysium, from which the storm of the Revolution rudely awoke them.

But it would be a fallacy to suppose that because Voltaire would never have pleaded for such wild political schemes as those of the Revolution, that therefore he was not in a very great degree responsible for the character of the Revolution itself. He and his contemporary literateurs, of similar irreligious character and sentiments, contributed much to give the Revolution its peculiar moral complexion, its character of unprecedented atrocity. By the levity and contempt with which they had treated, not only religion, but morals; by their lenience towards vices which never were, and never can be, found alone, and of which they were not only the apologists but too often conspicuous examples; by their incessant scoffs at the doctrines of a moral government of the world and a future retribution, they destroyed the checks which usually operate on human passions, without replacing them by any other. Impressions of religious and moral obligation will usually do much to keep society together, even in the worst political revolutions. These were cast off in the French Revolution to an extent never before witnessed, and the consequences were such as might be expected. Practical and to a great extent speculative atheism widely prevailed; and large masses of the people gave themselves up to do as they listed without compunction, remorse, or fear of the future. We defy any one to account for the peculiar character of the French Revolution without taking the influence of the irreligious literature of the preceding years into account. It has often been said, and most probably with truth, that the political abuses of France were such that nothing but a revolution could remedy them, and that, therefore, a revolution was inevitable. This does not solve the phenomena. It does not account for such a revolution. Other nations have suffered from abuses even greater than those of the old French régime, and have sought the same remedy; but no nation has ever suffered from a revolution so appalling, so replete with horrors, so fruitful in crimes. These we may, in great measure, attribute to the fact, that while the wild theories and mad hopes of a coming political golden age relieved the "organic molecules of a disbanded nation" (to use an expression of Burke) from all the bonds of custom and habit, the bonds of religion and morality were simultaneously relaxed also; and thus the community at one and the same time became bereft of both its sheet-anchors. For the moral, if not the political, enormities of the Revolution, we believe that the influence of Voltaire was in a very high degree responsible.

Of the immense mass of literature evoked by the life, character, and writings of this author of nearly a hundred volumes, it is of course impossible, in this essay, to give an account. We must content ourselves with referring the reader to the article in the Biographie Universelle, where the bibliography of the subject is given with tolerable fulness. To that article we have been frequently indebted in compiling the sketch of the chief incidents of Voltaire's life. The reader will also find in the same article some acute criticism on the literary merits of Voltaire. A catalogue of the principal memoirs, and essays on his genius and writings, are also given.

(Volterra)

VOLTERRA, a town of Central Italy, Tuscany, province of Pisa, and 35 miles S.W. of Florence. It occupies the site of the ancient Volaterra, one of the most important and powerful of all the Etruscan cities. Very large portions of the ancient walls are still visible, and are among the finest existing specimens of Etruscan structure. Two of the ancient gates are still preserved; but it is a disputed point whether they belong to the Etruscan or Roman period. The modern town occupies only a small portion of the ancient city. It stands on a commanding eminence, about 1870 feet above the level of the sea, and is surrounded by walls. The streets are narrow, and the houses generally old. It has a citadel, now converted into a house of industry; a cathedral and several other churches, theatre, hospital, and orphan asylum. The museum in the palazzo pubblico, or town-hall, is one of the most extraordinary collections in Italy, comprising cinerary sarcophagi, statues, vases, coins, bronzes, gold ornaments, &c., obtained in the numerous ancient sepulchral chambers in the neighbourhood of the town. The inhabitants are chiefly employed in the manufacture of alabaster vases and other ornamental works. Pop. about 4500.