Voltaire for many years, in spite of his surroundings, in spite of
almost universal tyranny and oppression, was a believer in God and 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 ideas 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--who fills the
world with youth and beauty.
Attacked on every side, he 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 of seeing him burn or
suffer. Upon this very point of recanting he wrote:
"They say I must retract. Very willingly. I will declare that Pascal is
always right. That if St. Luke and St. Mark contradict one another, it
is only another proof of the truth of religion to those who know how
to understand such things; and that another lovely proof of religion
is that it is unintelligible. I will even avow that all priests are
gentle and disinterested; that Jesuits are honest people; that
monks are neither proud nor given to intrigue, and that their odor is
agreeable; that the Holy Inquisition is the triumph of humanity
and tolerance. In a word, I will say all that may be desired of me,
provided they leave me in repose, and will not persecute a man who has
done harm to none."
He gave the best years of his wondrous life to succor the oppressed,
to shield the defenceless, to reverse infamous decrees, to rescue the
innocent, to reform the laws of France, to do away with torture, to
soften the hearts of priests, to enlighten judges, to instruct kings,
to civilize the people, and to banish from the heart of man the love and
lust of war.
You may think that I have said too much; that I have placed this man too
high. Let me tell you what Goethe, the great German, said of this man:
"If you wish depth, genius, imagination, taste, reason, sensibility,
philosophy, elevation, originality, nature, intellect, fancy,
rectitude, facility, flexibility, precision, art, abundance, variety,
fertility, warmth, magic, charm, grace, force, an eagle sweep of
vision, vast understanding, instruction rich, tone excellent, urbanity,
suavity, delicacy, correctness, purity, clearness, eloquence, harmony,
brilliancy, rapidity, gaiety, pathos, sublimity and universality,
perfection indeed, behold Voltaire."
Even Carlyle, that old Scotch terrier, with the growl of a grizzly
bear, who attacked shams, as I have sometimes thought, because he hated
rivals, was forced to admit that Voltaire gave the death stab to modern
superstition.
It is the duty of every man to destroy the superstitions of his time,
and yet there are thousands of men and women, fathers and mothers, who
repudiate with their whole hearts the creeds of superstition, and
still allow their children to be taught these lies. They allow their
imaginations to be poisoned with the dogma of eternal pain. They allow
arrogant and ignorant parsons, meek and foolish teachers, to sow the
seeds of barbarism in the minds of their children--seeds that will fill
their lives with fear and pain. Nothing can be more important to a human
being than to be free and to live without fear.
It is far better to be a mortal free man than an immortal slave.
Fathers and mothers should do their utmost to make their children free.
They should teach them to doubt, to investigate, to inquire, and every
father and mother should know that by the cradle of every child, as by
the cradle of the infant Hercules, crawls the serpent of superstition.