whole life became a
multiplied action, tending to one end, the abolition of theocracy, and
the establishment of religious toleration and liberty. He toiled at this
with all the powers with which God had gifted him; he even employed
falsehood (_ruse_), aspersion, cynicism, and immorality: he used even
those arms that respect for God and man denies to the wise; he employed
his virtue, his honour, his renown, to aid in this overthrow; and his
apostleship of reason had too often the appearance of a profanation of
piety; he ravaged the temple instead of protecting it.

From the day when he resolved upon this war against Christianity he
sought for allies also opposed to it. His intimacy with the king of
Prussia, Frederic II., had this sole inducement. He desired the support
of thrones against the priesthood. Frederic, who partook of his
philosophy, and pushed it still further, even to atheism and the
contempt of mankind, was the Dionysius of this modern Plato. Louis XV.,
whose interest it was to keep up a good understanding with Prussia,
dared not to show his anger against a man whom the king considered as
his friend. Voltaire, thus protected by a sceptre, redoubled his
audacity. He put thrones on one side, whilst he affected to make their
interests mutual with his own, by pretending to emancipate them from the
domination of Rome. He handed over to kings the civil liberty of the
people, provided that they would aid him in acquiring the liberty of
consciences. He even affected--perhaps he felt--respect for the absolute
power of kings. He pushed that respect so far as even to worship their
weaknesses. He palliated the infamous vices of the great Frederic, and
brought philosophy on its knees before the mistresses of Louis XV. Like
the courtezan of Thebes, who built one of the pyramids of Egypt from the
fruits of her debaucheries, Voltaire did not blush at any prostitution
of genius, provided that the wages of his servility enabled him to
purchase enemies against Christ. He enrolled them by millions throughout
Europe, and especially in France. Kings were reminded of the middle
ages, and of the thrones outraged by the popes. They did not see,
without umbrage and secret hate, the clergy as powerful as themselves
with the people, and who under the name of cardinals, almoners, bishops
or confessors, spied, or dictated its creeds even to courts themselves.
The parliaments, that civil clergy, a body redoubtable to sovereigns
themselves