Might but a generation be born
which knew at once the value of life, as long as a mud-bath is not
part of the treatment!"
Just then a dark lean man came tortuously along the garden path.
"See! there is my Jesuit!" said Voltaire.
The old man kept on friendly terms with a Jesuit, partly because
the Pope had expelled them, partly because Frederick the Great had
patronised them; but his chief object was to have someone to dispute
with. Perhaps also he wished to show his freedom from prejudice, for
he did not like the uncongenial man.
"Now, you child of Satan!" was the old man's greeting, "what
mischief have you got in your mind? You look so maliciously
pleased!"
"I come from Geneva," answered the Jesuit with an evil smile.
"What are they doing there?"
"I saw the executioner burn Rousseau's _Emile_."
"They may do that, as far as I am concerned, and throw the fool
himself into the fire."
"Monsieur Voltaire!"
"Yes: one cannot tolerate lunatics: there are limits!"
"Where?"
"Imposed by a sound intelligence."
"Yes, and saw them burn the new edition of Monsieur Voltaire's
_Candide_."
"For shame! But it is merely a mob in Geneva."
"A Protestant mob, with your permission."
"Don't trouble yourself; I hate Protestants equally with Catholics!
This terrible Calvin burnt his friend Servetus in Geneva, because he
did not believe in the Trinity.
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