great lords on the coast of India, and ever formidable in Europe. The United Provinces have only been warriors in spite of themselves, and it was not as united between themselves, but as united with England, that they assisted to hold the balance of Europe at the com mencement of the eighteenth century.

Carthage, Venice, and Amsterdam, have been pows erful; but they have acted like those people among us, who, having amassed money by trade, buy lordly estates. Neither Carthage, Venice, Holland, nor any people, have commenced by being warriors and even conquerors, to finish by being merchants. The English only answer this description: they had fought a long time before they knew how to reckon. They did not know, when they gained the battle of Agincourt, Cressy, and Poictiers, that they were able to deal largely in corn, and fabricate broad cloth, which would be of much more value to them than such victories. The knowledge of these arts alone has augmented enriched, and strengthened the nation. It is only because the English have become merchants, that London exceeds Paris in extent and number of citizens; that they can spread two hundred ships of war over the seas, and keep royal allies in pay.

When Louis XIV. made Italy tremble, and his armies, already masters of Savoy and Piedmont, were ready to take Turin, prince Eugene was obliged to march to the skirts of Germany, to the succour of the duke of Savoy. Having no money, without which he could neither take nor defend towns, he had recourse to the English merchants. In half an hour they advanced him the sum of five millions (of livres), with which he delivered Turin, beat the French, and wrote this little billet to those who had lent it him: "Gen tlemen, I have received your money, and I flatter myself that I have employed it to your satisfaction." All this excites just pride in an English merchant, and makes him venture to compare himself, and not with out reason, to a Roman citizen. Thus the younger sons of a peer of the realm disdain not to be merchants. Lord Townsend, minister of state, had a

brother who was contented with being a merchant in the city. At the time that lord Orford governed England, his younger brother was a factor at Aleppo, whence he would not return, and where he died. This custom, which, however, begins to decline, appeared monstrous to the petty German princes. They could not conceive how the son of a peer of England was only a rich and powerful trader, while in Germany they are all princes. We have seen nearly thirty highnesses of the same name, having nothing for their fortunes but old armouries and aristocratical hauteur. In France, anybody may be a marquis that likes; and whoever arrives at Paris from a remote province, with money to spend, and a name ending in ac or ille, may say" A man like me!” “A man of my quality!" and sovereignly despise a merchant; while the merchant so often hears his profession spoken of with disdain, that he is weak enough to blush at it. Which is the most useful to a state-a well-powdered lord, who knows precisely at what hour the king rises and retires, and who gives himself airs of greatness, while playing the part of a slave in the anti-chamber of a minister; or a merchant, who enriches his country, sends orders from his closet to Surat and Aleppo, and contributes to the happiness of the world ?*

COMMON SENSE.

THERE is sometimes in vulgar expressions an image of what passes in the heart of all men. "Sensus com. munis" signified among the Romans not only common sense, but also humanity and sensibility. As we are not equal to the Romans, this word with us conveys not half what it did with them. It signifies only good

*This article is scarcely necessary for the English reader; but it is retained, like many others, to illustrate the universal attention of Voltaire, and the salutary nature of his ridicule. The revolution swept away the insects here described, which, like other vermin, absolutely sunk the ship of the state, by their numbers, and minute but pernicious labours. A remnant, however, have survived to return, and are at work as mischievously as ever.-T.

VOL. II.

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sense-plain, strait-forward reasoning-the first notion of ordinary things-a medium between dullness and intellect. To say, "That man has not common sense," is a gross insult; while the expression, "That man has common sense," is an affront also; it would imply, that he was not quite stupid, but that he wanted intellect. But what is the meaning of common sense, if it be not sense? Men, when they invented this term, supposed that nothing entered the mind except by the senses; otherwise would they have used the word sense to signify the result of the common faculty of reason?

It is said, sometimes, that common sense is very rare. What does this expression mean? That in many men dawning reason is arrested in its progress by some prejudices; that a man who judges very reasonably on one affair will deceive himself grossly in another. The Arab, who, besides being a good calculator, was a learned chemist and an exact astronomer, nevertheless believed that Mahomet put half of the moon into his sleeve.

How is it that he was so much above common sense in the three sciences above mentioned, and beneath it when he proceeded to the subject of half the moon? It is because, in the first case, he had seen with his own eyes, and perfected his own intelligence; and, in the second, he had used the eyes of others, by shutting his own, and perverting the common sense within him.

How could this strange perversion of mind operate? How could the ideas which had so regular and firm a footing in his brain, on many subjects, halt on another a thousand times more palpable and easy to comprehend? This man had always the same principles of intelligence in him; he must have therefore possessed a vitiated organ, as it sometimes happens that the most delicate epicure has a depraved taste in regard to a particular species of nourishment.

How did the organ of this Arab, who saw half of the moon in Mahomet's sleeve, become disordered?-By fear. It had been told him, that if he did not believe in this sleeve, his soul, immediately after his death, in passing over the narrow bridge, would fall for ever into

the abyss. He was told much worse-if ever you doubt this sleeve, one dervise will treat you with ignominy; another will prove you mad, because having all possible motives for credibility, you will not submit your superb reason to evidence; a third will refer you to the little divan of a small province, and you will be legally impaled.

All this produces a panic in the good Arab, his wife, sister, and all his little family. They possess good sense in all the rest, but on this article their imagination is diseased like that of Pascal, who continually saw a precipice near his couch. But did our Arab really believe in the sleeve of Mahomet? No; he endeavoured to believe it; he said, "It is impossible, but true I believe that which I do not credit." He formed a chaos of ideas in his head, in regard to this sleeve, which he feared to disentangle; and he gave up his common sense.*

CONFESSION.

REPENTANCE for one's faults is the only thing that can repair the loss of innocence: and to appear to repent of them, we must begin by acknowledging them. Confession, therefore, is almost as ancient as civil society.

Confession was practised in all the mysteries of Egypt, Greece, and Samothrace. We are told, in the life of Marcus Aurelius, that when he deigned to par ticipate in the Eleusinian mysteries, he confessed him

* This is a very amusing article, and pleasantly explanatory of the very different nature of the two kinds of belief which prevail among mankind. Nothing is more common than to call upon human beings to believe that Mahomet put half of the moon into his sleeve-or stories very similar; and decorating the same evidence with the name of religious principle, sapiently to observe that there is no other foundation for the whole code of morality. Certain Indians, it is said, place the world on the back of an elephant; and being questioned for the footing of the latter, gravely answer, that he is upheld by the back of a tortoise. Heaven help poor human nature, if Providence had not provided a better terra firma for the moral duties!-T.

self to the hierophant; though no man had less need of confession than himself.

This might be a very salutary ceremony; it might also become very detrimental; for such is the case with all human institutions. We know the answer of the Spartan whom an hierophant would have persuaded to confess himself: "To whom should I acknowledge my faults?-to God, or to thee?" "To God," said the priest.-" Retire then, O man.'

It is hard to determine at what time this practice was established among the Jews, who borrowed a great many of their rites from their neighbours. The Mishna, which is the collection of the Jewish laws, says, that often, in confessing, they placed their hand upon a calf belonging to the priest; and this was called" the confession of calves."

It is said in the same Mishna, that every culprit under sentence of death went and confessed himself before witnesses, in some retired spot, a short time before his execution. If he felt himself guilty, he said, " May my death atone for all my sins!" If innocent, he said, "May my death atone for all my sins! excepting that of which I am now accused."‡

On the day of the feast which was called by the Jews the solemn atonement,§ the devout among them confessed to one another, specifying their sins. The ́confessor repeated three times thirteen words of the seventy-seventh psalm, at the same time giving the confessed thirty-nine stripes, which the latter returned, and they went away quits. It is said that this ceremony is still in use.

St. John's reputation for sanctity brought crowds to confess to him, as they came to be baptised by him with the baptism of justice: but we are not informed that St. John gave his penitents thirty-nine stripes.

Confession was not then a sacrament; for this there are several reasons.-The first is, that the word sacra

* Plutarch-Remarkable Sayings of the Lacedemonians. + Mishna, tom. ii. p. 394.

Tom. iv. p. 134.

§ Jewish Synagogue, chap. xxxv.