never let me hear again of that wearisome niece,
who has not as much merit as her uncle with which to cover her {162}
defects. People talk of the servant of Moliere, but nobody will ever
speak of the niece of Voltaire."

The poet resented this contempt of his niece, for he was indulgently
fond of the homely coquette who was without either wit or the good
sense to win pardon for the frivolity of her tastes and extravagances.
Living in a learned circle, she talked, like a parrot, of literature
and wrote plays for the theatre of Ferney. "She wrote a comedy; but
the players, out of respect to Voltaire, declined to act in it. She
wrote a tragedy; but the one favour, which the repeated entreaties of
years could never wring from Voltaire, was that he would read it."

In spite of his quarrels, Voltaire spoke favourably of the German
freedom which allowed writings to be published reflecting on the Great
Elector. He could not endure the hostile temper of his own land and
deserted Paris to settle at Geneva, that free republic which extended
hospitality to refugees from all countries. He built two hermitages,
one for summer and one for winter, both commanding beautiful scenes,
which he enjoyed for twenty years to come, though he was not content
with one shelter. He bought a life-interest in Tournay and the
lordship of Ferney in 1758, declaring that "philosophers ought to have
two or three holes underground against the hounds who chase them."
From Ferney he denounced the religion of the time, accusing the Church
of hatred of truth and real knowledge, with which was coupled a
terrible cruelty and lack of toleration.

To make superstition ridiculous was one of the objects of Voltaire's
satire, for, in this way, he hoped to secure due respect for reason.
All abuses were to be torn away, and such traditions as made slaves of
the {163} people. The shameful struggles between Jesuits and
Jansenists were at their height. How could religion exist when one
party believing in works denied the creed of a second believing grace
better than deeds, and when both sides were eager to devote themselves
to persecution?

In Voltaire's day, the condemnation of free writing came chiefly from
the clergy. They would shackle the mind and bring it in subjection to
the priesthood. Here was a man sneering at the power claimed by
members of a holy body. The narrow bigotry of priests demanded that he
should be held in bondage. Yet he did not moc