d
absolution. This, to oblige his friends, he submitted to; but when the
cure one day drew him from his lethargy by shouting into his ear, "Do
you believe the divinity of Jesus Christ?" Voltaire exclaimed, "In the
name of God, Sir, speak to me no more of that man, but let me die in
peace!" This put to flight all doubts of the pious, and the certificate
of burial was refused. But the prohibition of the Bishop of Troyes
came too late. Voltaire was buried at the monastery of Scellieres, in
Champagne, of which his nephew was abbot. Afterwards, during the first
French Revolution, the body, at the request of the citizens, was removed
to Paris, and buried in the Pantheon. Lamartine, in his "History of the
Girondists," p. 149, speaking of the ceremony, says:--

"On the 11th of July, the departmental and municipal authorities went
in state to the barrier of Charenton, to receive the mortal remains of
Voltaire, which were placed on the ancient site of the Bastile, like a
conqueror on his trophies; his coffin was exposed to public gaze, and a
pedestal was formed for it of stones torn from the foundations of this
ancient stronghold of tyranny; and thus Voltaire when dead triumphed
over those stones which had triumphed over and confined him when living.
On one of the blocks was the inscription, '_Receive on this spot,
where despotism once fettered thee, the Honors decreed to thee by thy
country_'.... The coffin of Voltaire was deposited between those of
Descartes and Mirabeau--the spot predestined for this intermediary
genius between philosophy and policy, between the design and the
execution."

The aim of Voltaire's life was the destruction of prejudice and the
establishment of Reason. "Deists," said W. J. Fox in 1819, "have done
much for toleration and religious liberty. It may be doubted if there
be a country in Europe, where that cause has not been advanced by the
writings of Voltaire." In the Preface and Conclusion to the "Examination
of the Scriptures," Voltaire says:--

"The ambition of domineering over the mind, is one of the strongest
passions. A theologian, a missionary, or a partisan of any description,
is always for conquering like a prince, and there are many more sects
than there are sovereigns in the world. To whose guidance shall I
submit my mind? Must I be a Christian, be-cause I happened to be born
in London, or in Madrid? Must I be a Mussulman, because I was born in
Turkey? As it is myself alone that I ought to