ridiculous light.
Innocent historical dramas were passed by the censor, and afterward it
was found that in them some local bigwig was flayed without mercy. Then
the play had to be withdrawn, and all printed copies were burned in
public, and Voltaire would flee to Brussels or Geneva to escape summary
punishment.

However, he never fooled all of the people all of the time. There was
always a goodly number of dignitaries who richly enjoyed the drubbing he
gave the other fellow, and these would gloat in inward glee over the
Voltaire ribaldry until it came their turn. Then the other side would
laugh. The fact is, Voltaire always represented a constituency,
otherwise his punishment might have been genuine, instead of forty
lashes with a feather, well laid on.

About the time Madame du Chatelet passed away, Voltaire seemed to be
enjoying a period of kingly favor. He had been made a Knight of the
Bedchamber and also Historiographer of France. The chief duty of the
first office consisted in signing the monthly voucher for salary, and
the other was about the same as Poet Laureate--with salary in inverse
ratio to responsibility. It was considered, however, that the holder of
these offices was one of the King's family, and therefore was bound to
indulge in no unseemly antics.

On June Twenty-sixth, Seventeen Hundred Fifty, Voltaire applied to the
King in person for permission to visit Frederick of Prussia.

Tradition has it that the King replied promptly, "You may go--the sooner
the better--and you may remain as long as you choose."

Voltaire pocketed the veiled acerbity without a word, and bowing himself
out, made hot haste to pack up and be on his way before an order
rescinding the permission was issued.

Frederick was a freethinker, a scientist, a poet, and a wit well worthy
of the companionship of Voltaire. In fact, they were very much alike.
Both had the dual qualities of being intensely practical and yet
iconoclastic. Both were witty, affable, seemingly indifferent and
careless, but yet always with an eye on the main chance. Each was small,
thin and bony, but both had the intellect of the lean and hungry Cassius
that looked quite through the deeds of man.

Frederick received Voltaire with royal honors. Princes, ministers of
state, grandees and generals high in office, knelt on one knee as he
passed. Frederick tried to make it appear that France had failed to
appreciate her greatest philosopher, and so he had come to P