be said to have been the making of Voltaire. He
went with a reputation as an elegant young poet and
dramatist--he was then thirty-two; and this reputation
brought him into the society of the most famous political
and literary personages of the day. He became a disciple
of Newton, and gained a broad, if not a deep, knowledge of
philosophy. He left in 1729 fully equipped for his later
and greater career as philosopher, historian, and
satirist. The "Philosophic Letters on the English" were
definitely published, after various difficulties, in 1734;
an English translation, however, appeared in 1733. The
difficulties did not cease with publication, for the
French authorities were grievously displeased with
Voltaire's acid comparisons between the political and
intellectual liberty enjoyed by Englishmen with the
bondage of his own countrymen. The "Philosophic Letters"
purported to be addressed to the author's friend Theriot;
but they would seem to be essays in an epistolary form
rather than actual correspondence. Of England and its
people, Voltaire was both an observant and an appreciative
critic; hosts and guest alike had reason to be pleased
with his long and profitable visit.

My curiosity having been aroused regarding the doctrines and history of
these singular people, I sought to satisfy it by a visit to one of the
most celebrated of English Quakers. He was a well-preserved old man, who
had never known illness, because he had never yielded to passion or
intemperance; not in all my life have I seen a man of an aspect at once
so noble and so engaging. He received me with his hat on his head, and
advanced towards me without the slightest bow; but there was far more
courtesy in the open kindliness of his countenance than is to be seen in
the custom of dragging one leg behind the other, or of holding in the
hand that which was meant to cover the head.

"Sir," I said, bowing low, and gliding one foot towards him, after our
manner, "I flatter myself that my honest curiosity will not displease
you, and that you will be willing to do me the honour of instructing me
as to your religion."

"The folk of thy country," he replied, "are too prone to paying
compliments and making reverences; but I have never seen one of them who
had the same curiosity as thou. Enter, and let us dine together."

After a healthy and frugal meal, I set myself to questioning him. I
opened with the old enquiry