The true name of the man known throughout the world as Voltaire was Francois-Marie Arouet. Thus he was designated on his baptismal record, which indicates that he was born in Paris on 21 November 1694. It is typical of the character of the man that throughout his life he should have tried to shroud with mystery the circumstances of his birth, and even the exact date. He tried to pass as nine months older than he actually was, perhaps out of perversity, perhaps out of sheer love for deception, or even out of an instinct for self-protection—on the theory...

The marquis de Châteauneuf, brother of Voltaire’s godfather, had been named ambassador to the Netherlands in June 1713 and, perhaps at the intercession of Arouet, he appointed the young Voltaire as one of his attaches. Voltaire jumped at this chance to enter international society. Throughout much of his later life he aspired to a diplomatic post, and several times offered his services as an international negotiator. From all reports, when Voltaire arrived in Holland in the fall of 1713 his poor physiognomy had not much improved. Various observers during his twenties pictured him as slender, with piercing eyes, and a...

On the first of January 1722, Voltaire’s father, then aged 73 years, died of dropsy and was buried the following day. Both of his sons attended the funeral. The lack of understanding between Voltaire and his father has perhaps been exaggerated. Although Arouet may have complained, as Duvernet reported, “I have two crazy men for sons, one in prose, the other in verse” [Duvernet, p. 31], he undoubtedly took satisfaction from Voltaire’s dramatic triumphs. When the king of England announced that he was bestowing a gold watch upon Voltaire in recognition ofGEdipe,Voltaire asked that the gift be sent...

Toward the middle of September 1722, Voltaire wrote to Thieriot that he had thought to be away for four more months, but would return to France within the next two weeks, making the trip by horseback on his meagre flesh [119, 123]. He nowhere offers any explanation for his abrupt change in plans, nor do we ever hear, for many years, another word concerning Mme Rupelmonde. His departure may have been the consequence of a lovers’ quarrel, but it was more likely determined by his financial, diplomatic, or literary projects.

Voltaire returned to Paris by way of Orleans, toward the...

Soon after his arrival in England, Voltaire learned of his sister’s death, news that “pierced his heart” for his irretrievable loss, but at the same time awakened expressions of tender concern for his brother [293]. Apparently Armand failed to reciprocate these fraternal sentiments during the ensuing two years, for Voltaire later complained bitterly “of the ill usage I have received from him since I am in England” [327]. He confided to Thieriot in English that he had tried in vain “all sorts of means to soften” his brother’s “pedantic rudeness and . . . selfish insolence.”

Conforming to his custom,...

By February 1729 Voltaire was back in France, but in hiding. In March he moved to St. Germain on the outskirts of Paris; on the first of April he saw his old friend the due de Richelieu, and eight days later he received official permission to return to Paris [345].

He immediately petitioned to have his pension from the queen restored, and no sooner was it promised than he insisted on sharing it with Thieriot [341]. Henceforth in Voltaire’s life, money would no longer be a major problem. Not only would he finally receive his share of his father’s estate,...

The only friend Voltaire ever made through hisTemple of Taste,he remarked to Cideville, was the doorway to the church of St. Gervais in Paris [586]. He said this because in his poem he had surveyed painting and architecture along with the panorama of French literature, highly praising the beauty of the Porte St. Gervais as a masterpiece of design. In the ensuing months he began buying old masters, and in May 1733 he established a new residence opposite his beloved church door. He described his situation, nevertheless, as “in the most wretched district of Paris, in the meanest...

After crossing the border, Voltaire proceeded directly to Leyden in Holland without stopping in Brussels. In the Dutch university center, he consulted the famous physician Boerhaave about his health and the equally famous scientist’s Gravesande about Newtonian philosophy. Voltaire’s enemies, getting wind of this circumstance, circulated the completely unfounded rumor that he had disputed in public with’s Gravesande about the existence of god. The point of view that Voltaire had actually been expressing during this period was merely that the existence of god could not be demonstrated mathematically, and it was by no means a new position for him. In...

On the last day of May 1740, Frederick William I of Prussia died, and his son Frederick II became king. In informing Voltaire of his accession, Frederick asked to be considered as merely “a zealous citizen, a philosopher with a touch of the skeptic, but a truly faithful friend.” He begged Voltaire “to write to me only as a man and to despise, as I do, titles, names, and external pomp” [2097]. Voltaire immediately sent to Frederick an ode on his accession beginning with the highly subjective line, “Enfin voici Ie plus beau jour de ma vie” [“Finally here is...

In continuing his correspondence with Frederick, Voltaire carefully preserved a tone of respectful camaraderie, pretending to recognize Frederick as sovereign among the monarchs of the world because he wrote verse. If the others “do not make rhymes, they are not my kings” [2348]. Voltaire continued to work hard, he affirmed, because Frederick furnished him an example. At the same time the Prussian king's continued policy of war and domination rapidly dissipated Voltaire’s illusions concerning his humanitarianism. Six months after mounting to the throne, Frederick offered an alliance to Maria Theresa, and at virtually the same instant invaded Silesia and other...

At Versailles, Voltaire was lodged in a corner of the palace which he disdainfully described as “near the most stinking privy.” He was ashamed of his subservient role, considering himself “the king’s buffoon at fifty” [2855], and felt as much out of his element as an atheist would have been in church [2858]. His biographer Duvernet once asked him whether it was true that he had been a courtier, and Voltaire pleaded guilty. “I was one in 1744 and 1745; I reformed in 1746; and I repented in 1747.” “It was not the period of my glory if I ever...

Voltaire and Emilie traveled at night, in keeping with Emilie’s principle of minimizing her time away from studies, as she would rather sacrifice sleep than either work or pleasure [Longchamp, II, 240]. The particular night of their journey was bitter cold and the ground covered with snow. Somewhere in the depths of the countryside a wheel of their coach came loose, forcing Emilie and Voltaire to descend. Not the least discomfited, they made their philosophical best of the situation, by settling down shivering on the snow to contemplate the stars. “Their minds wandering in the depths of the skies, they...

A certain Mme Dupin, among Emilie’s acquaintances, came one day to ask Voltaire a small favor. Her nephew, the abbe d’Arty had been nominated, probably through family influence, to deliver a panegyrical sermon on Saint Louis in the chapel of the Louvre in the presence of the Academie francaise. The abbe, completely devoid of theological or rhetorical talents, had spent three months preparing a feeble manuscript, which Mme Dupin, through the good offices of Emilie, asked Voltaire to read and correct. After extensive persuasion, Voltaire gave his consent, thinking that nothing would be required but a few superficial touches, but...

In the first stages of his grief over Emilie's death, Voltaire revived his project of retreating to the monastery of Dom Calmet, and also considered seeking consolation with Bolingbroke in England [Longehamp, II, 257–58]. But these were fanciful notions born of the emotions of the moment. For the past two decades Voltaire had divided his time between Paris and Cirey. Since the memories of Emilie made Cirey no longer supportable for him, Paris became the logical place for him to live. He had misgivings about going there immediately because of curiosity seekers who would ply him with questions,¹ but...

Voltaire’s arrival in Berlin brought about no surcease in his activities as a dramatic author and even impresario. He continued producing his own plays and occasionally those of other authors at Frederick’s court, with the latter’s brother Henry serving as patron and fellow actor. As always, Voltaire dedicated himself passionately to his artistic responsibilities. During rehearsal he was never silent, always in action, and always out of breath. Voice coach for the entire royal troupe, he sometimes screamed at all the actors at once.¹

Spurred on by the exigencies of his law suit, Voltaire persevered in his efforts to learn...

Voltaire faced two problems: how to get Frederick’s permission to leave the country, and where to go if he succeeded. His health would be the pretext for the first, but he had no solution whatsoever for the second. As evidence of the depressing situation he faced, he confided to one of his correspondents, “nobody spies on my visitors for the reason that the all powerful has nothing to fear from the weak” [4464]. To Mme Denis he sent a personal interpretation of the language of kings:“My friend signifies my slave. My dear friend means you are more than indifferent...

Collini reported, as a facetious remark, Voltaire’s description of their sojourn in Mainz as a respite “to dry his clothes soaked in the shipwreck.”¹ In succeeding weeks this symbolism of a sinking ship penetrated his private correspondence as a serious motif. He described his friendly relations with German rulers other than Frederick as “planks in my shipwreck” [4995]. “Everyone for himself,” he bitterly enjoined his friend Cideville, “but I am far from the shore” [ibid.]. During the winter months at Colmar he had few friends, no distractions, and because of the lack of books not even much literary work, his...

Voltaire linked his poem on Lisbon with his earlier one on natural law, or natural religion, and described both of them in his correspondence as sermons. Even though later editors continue to treat these poems as complementary, they are actually opposite in philosophy and feeling. The first accepts and vindicates Pope's optimistic view that “whatever is, is right.” The second completely contradicts this attitude. To be sure, both poems reject scientific deism or establishing the existence and attributes of god on the order in the universe. The second poem even denies that this order exists. The first poem, nevertheless, accepts...

D’Alembert, in disgust over the fury aroused by the article “Geneva,” decided to renounce participation in theEncyclopediaaltogether. Voltaire wrote fervid letters to both Diderot and d’Alembert affirming that “We are drawing near to a great revolution in the human mind,” and urging d'Alembert not to withdraw as an editor and not to retract his article [6871]. At the same time Voltaire, nevertheless, prudently informed Vernes that he could not afford to be associated publicly with theEncyclopedia,and that he would flatly deny any implications that he was involved with it should they be made. He insisted, moreover,...

No single event—either the Seven Years’ War, which represented man-made evil, or the Lisbon earthquake, which represented that caused by nature—can be considered the major impetus for the writing ofCandide,even though both events figure prominently in the narrative. Voltaire had already expressed his feelings about the earthquake in hisPoemof 1755, and he was not passionately committed against war as an instrument of national grandeur. He quite accurately remarked that his purpose inCandidewas “to bring amusement to a small number of men of wit” [7523]. With equal appropriateness, he rendered an almost opposite...

InCandideVoltaire ridiculed man’s cosmic position in the universe, and throughout the year of its publication he remained for the most part a detached and philosophic observer of the foibles, follies, stupidities, and vices of the European scene. In the following year, however, Voltaire became actively involved in the struggle for acceptance of theEncyclopediaand its principles, not merely a passive supporter from the sidelines. He fought back against the enemies of liberal thought, he fought hard, and he fought on several fronts.

The journalist Freron, the leader of the anti-Voltairean forces, had been opposing him for years...

Shortly before New Year’s Day, 1761, Voltaire confessed to Collini, “I have never been as happy as I am” [8734], and a few weeks later he still considered himself “one of the happiest men in the world” [8789]. “I was born feeble; I have lived languishing,” he wrote to Cideville in a reminiscing mood; but he added, “I acquire strength in my retirement and even a little imagination” [8750]. In this complacent spirit he composed a poetic epistleA Madame Denis sur I’agriculture,combining a glorification of the benefits of cultivating one's garden with a celebration of the achievements of...

The Calas case, which leaped into public attention during the spring of 1762, not only shattered the apathy of French intellectual circles, but dramatically brought to the surface of Voltaire’s personality an intense social consciousness. Henceforth he would be motivated by humanitarian goals as well as by the purely ideological ones that he had held throughout his life. In Peter Gay’s phrase, he would become the “conscience of Europe.”¹

The philosophes received a great boost in morale with the confirmation of rumors that the Jesuits were to be expelled from the nation. D’Alembert caustically placed the event on the same...

Because of the ambition of princes and the waste of the frequent wars in the eighteenth century, one of Voltaire’s correspondents in a despondent mood asked him, “Is this the century of Enlightenment which you embellish and which you enlighten? Alas, times and men are like each other and will always be like each other” [10321]. Apart from the pessimistic context in which this question appears, it is notable for preceding by more than twenty years Immanuel Kant’s more famous question, “What is Enlightenment?” Voltaire never answered the question directly, but as we have already seen, he believed that he...

“I have been for fourteen years the innkeeper of Europe, and I am tired of this profession,” wrote Voltaire to Mme Du Deffand in 1768, partly in jest but also seriously. “I have entertained three or four hundred Englishmen who are all so enamored of their country that virtually not a single one has thought about me after his departure.” Although there may be some exaggeration in the numbers mentioned, it is absolutely true that Voltaire’s chateau became a tourist mecca for travelers of all European nations. Some came to pay tribute to the patriarch of Ferney as they would...

Diderot had once dubbed Voltaire the “illustrious brigand of the lake,”¹ and in 1764 Voltaire began calling himself the “old man of the mountains” [10813]. In Diderot's thought a definite increase in political radicalism may be traced concomitant with increasing age, and something of the same development may be discerned in Voltaire. Learning that one of the foremost Parisian printers had been sent to the Bastille, Voltaire complimented his own printer, Cramer of Geneva, for being born in a free country [10815]. “If I should ever return to the world,” he added, “I want to be reincarnated a republican.” Even...

In the meantime d’Alembert had been writing his own major contribution to the cause of free thought, a short book,La Destruction des Jésuites,concerning the banishment from France of the militant religious order. Voltaire read the manuscript and then gave it to Cramer for printing. Hyperbolically, he hailed it as almost the only French work of merit in the preceding thirty years [11534]. A few weeks later Voltaire’s future biographer Duvernet sent him out of the blue a proposaxl for writing a complete history of the Jesuits. Voltaire welcomed the project by indicating that d’Alembert’s tract, “filled with warmth,...

Within a few weeks Voltaire realized that neither his known nor his unknown enemies in Paris were plotting to disturb him in his retreat on the eastern frontier of France, and he gave up completely his plans for migrating to Cleves. Instead he transferred the site of his model community to Ferney itself, and began to organize on the outskirts of his chateau an industrial village of workers from Geneva, disillusioned by the perpetual discrimination they had encountered in that city.

His original plans were closely bound up with those of Choiseul for the establishment of a French city across...

The flight of Mme Denis to Paris stimulated much talk in subdued voices concerning the possibility of Voltaire’s own return to the city of light. At the same time, a new stream of printed words in his praise spread throughout Europe. Mme Denis, upon her arrival in Paris, set about furnishing an elegant apartment, which she immediately put at Voltaire’s disposal as a residence should he come for a visit or semipermanently [14544]. Her best advice was that Voltaire directly approach Choiseul, minister of foreign affairs, to ask whether his return would be tolerated. Since Voltaire had the discretion not...

Voltaire’s hypochondria had nearly always been so extreme that it could hardly increase with advancing age, but it certainly showed no signs of decline. During this period he worked in his garden, took long walks, and drove throughout the neighborhood in his carriage; yet he plaintively told one of his correspondents that he had not been out of his bedroom for two years and hardly at all out of his bed [16233]. We may be sure that Voltaire followed to the limit of possibility his own method of taking care of himself: to use exercise and diet and never to...

Voltaire had written in 1772 a new play,Les Lois de Minos,designed, as his contemporaries recognized, as a further weapon in his campaign againstI’infâme,but he was not above using it to promote his personal ambition of returning once more to Paris before the end of his life. The play concerns the opposition of Teucer, the king of Crete, to the priests who advocate human sacrifice. After a series of confrontations between the king and the priests, the king demonstrates his absolute control of the state and abolishes human sacrifice, this action representing a dramatic statement of the...

Voltaire continued to exult over the growth of his colony from a lair of forty savages to an opulent community with twelve hundred inhabitants, skilled workmen for the most part, applying their wisdom to the mechanical arts [18281]. He had financed houses for his workers and friends, and even expedited the construction of a theater [19055]. According to Lekain, who made another visit in 1776, he regularly worked ten hours daily. He was his own major domo, accountant, and cattle inspector [19106].

Because of the responsibilities connected with his watch-making enterprise, Voltaire developed a new interest in economic theory. By...

In January 1775, Voltaire's faithful correspondent, Mme Du Deffand, sounded a theme he had been hoping to hear for many years—that the time was now ripe for him to return to Paris to receive the acclaim of his devoted admirers. “Hasten to show yourself to a nation which no longer has any but you to honor” [18174]. A fellow playwright, Guy de Chabanon, echoed this invitation, but Voltaire pretended to be wary of the confusion of the city and wedded to the delights of his rural retreat. He carefully added, however, that no formal ban had ever been placed...

Success and satisfaction accompanied Voltaire as a creative artist, ideologue, and humanitarian throughout every stage of his life. No real tragedy ever took place to interfere with his enjoyment of the material luxuries and intellectual amenities with which he was constantly surrounded. It is significant that he could sincerely declare in his sixties that he was one of the happiest men in the world. Voltaire endured the few hardships of his life with stoic fortitude; the imaginary ills about which he was perpetually complaining had their roots for the most part either in hypochrondria or in personal and literary animosities,...