ent of all men. He was in the highest sense
successful. He lived like a prince, became one of the powers of
Europe, and in him, for the first time, literature was crowned.
Voltaire, in spite of his surroundings, in spite of almost universal
tyranny and oppression, was a believer in God and in what he was
pleased to call the religion of nature. He attacked the creed of his
time because it was dishonorable to his God. He thought of the Deity
as a father, as the fountain of justice, intelligence and mercy, and
the creed of the Catholic church made him a monster of cruelty and
stupidity. He attacked the bible with all the weapons at his command.
He assailed its geology, its astronomy, its idea of justice, its laws
and customs, its absurd and useless miracles, its foolish wonders, its
ignorance on all subjects, its insane prophecies, its cruel threats,
and its extravagant promises. At the same time he praised the God of
nature, the God who gives us rain and light, and food and flowers, and
health and happiness--he who fills the world with youth and beauty.

In 1755 came the earthquake at Lisbon. This frightful disaster became
an immense interrogation. The optimist was compelled to ask, "What was
my God doing? Why did the Universal Father crush to shapelessness
thousands of his poor children, even at the moment when they were upon
their knees returning thanks to Him?" What could be done with this
horror? If earthquake there must be, why did it not occur in some
uninhabited desert on some wide waste of sea? This frightful fact
changed the theology of Voltaire. He became convinced that this is not
the best possible of all worlds. He became convinced that evil is evil
here, now and forever.

Who can establish the existence of an infinite being? It is beyond the
conception--the reason--the imagination of man--probably or
possibly--where the zenith and nadir meet this God can be found.

Voltaire, attacked on every side, fought with every weapon that wit,
logic, reason, scorn, contempt, laughter, pathos and indignation could
sharpen, form, devise or use. He often apologized, and the apology was
an insult. He often recanted, and the recantation was a thousand times
worse than the thing recanted. He took it back by giving more. In the
name of eulogy he flayed his victim. In his praise there was poison.
He often advanced by retreating, and asserted by retraction. He did
not intend to give priests the satisfaction