ths of laurel and palms.
Ignorance, meanwhile, with the wings of a fiend, armed with rods, is
driving them away in the midst of their pacific employment, and
extinguishing a lamp which burns above the tomb. It is a singular
circumstance that Voltaire caused the church of Ferney to be built, as
well as several houses in the village, and on an iron vane on the top of
the former is inscribed, "_Deo erexit Voltaire_."

After his escape from the court of Frederic, Voltaire went first to
Lausanne, were he resided some years, and where he fitted up a private
theatre; his acquaintances there supplied him with performers, of whom
it seems he was proud, and who acted for him Zaire, Alzira, and several
other plays. Some spirited drawings of Huber represent him behind the
scene teaching, scolding, encouraging the actors; you might have thought
you heard his loud _bravo_! The part of Lusignan was frequently filled
by the poet himself, who was so much taken with it as to be seen in the
morning at the door of his house already dressed for the stage. Voltaire
had a hollow wooden voice, and his declamation had more pomp in it than
nature; yet in the part of Trissotin, in the Femmes Savantes, he
performed very well.

From Lausanne, where he quarrelled with several persons, he went, in
1755, to St. Jean, close to Geneva, and gave to the house he occupied
the name of _Les Delices_, which it retains to this day. Ferney, which
he bought soon after, became his permanent residence for twenty years.

Strangers of distinction made a point of calling on the philosopher of
Ferney, who for some years received their visits very willingly, giving
them _fetes_ and plays; but he became tired of this, and at last would
only see those who could amuse him while he amused them. A quaker from
Philadelphia, called Claude Gay, travelling in Europe, stayed some time
at Geneva; he was known as the author of some Theological works, and
liked for his good sense, moderation, and simplicity. Voltaire heard of
him, his curiosity was excited, and he desired to see him. The quaker
felt great reluctance, but suffered himself at last to be carried to
Ferney, Voltaire having promised before hand to his friends that he
would say nothing that could give him offence. At first he was delighted
with the tall, straight, handsome quaker, his broad-brimmed hat, and
plain drab suit of clothes; the mild and serene expression of his
countenance; and the dinner promised to go off