Voltaire and Frederick.

Dialogue obtained through two mediums who served as interpreters for each of these two Spirits, in a session of the Society. – March 18,

Preliminary questions addressed to Voltaire.

In what situation do you find yourself as a Spirit?

Answer. – Wandering, but repentant.

What are your occupations as a Spirit?

Answer. – I am tearing away the veil of error that in life I imagined to be the light of truth.

What do you think of your writings in general?

Answer. – My spirit was dominated by pride; besides, I had as my mission to impel a people still in its infancy; my works are the consequence of that.

What will you say in particular about your Joan of Arc?

Answer. – It is a diatribe, although I have done worse things.

When incarnate, did you think about the future after death?

Answer. – I believed only in matter, as you well know; and matter dies.

Did you profess atheism in the true sense of the word?

Answer. – I was proud; I denied the divinity out of pride, for which I suffered and of which I repent.

Would you like to converse with Frederick, who has also agreed to answer our appeal? This conversation would be instructive for us. Answer. – If Frederick is willing, I am ready.

— 1. Voltaire – You see, my dear monarch, that I acknowledge my errors and that I am far from speaking as in my works. In former times, we offered the spectacle of our vileness; now we are obliged to offer that of our repentance and of our desire to know the great and pure truth.

Frederick – I supposed you less good than you really are.

Voltaire – A power, which we are obliged to adore and acknowledge in all its sovereignty, compels our soul to proclaim, to those whom we have perhaps misled, a doctrine completely opposite to the one we had professed.

Frederick – It is true, my dear Arouet, but let us pretend no more. It is useless: all the veils have fallen.

Voltaire – We have left so many disasters behind us that we shall need many tears in order to obtain pardon and be absolved.

We could never be sufficiently united to make forgotten and to repair the evils we have caused.

Frederick – Let us also confess that the century which admired us was very poor in judgment and that very little is needed to dazzle men: nothing more than a little audacity.

Voltaire – Why not? We made so much noise in our century!

Frederick – It was that noise which, falling suddenly into complete silence, threw us into bitter reflection, almost into repentance. I weep for my life, but how I am vexed at no longer being Frederick! And you, at no longer being Monsieur de Voltaire!

Voltaire – Then speak for yourself, your majesty.

Frederick – Yes, I suffer; but do not repeat it again.

Voltaire – Then abdicate! Later you will do as I have done.

Frederick – I cannot…

Voltaire – You ask me to be your guide; I will be so still. I shall take care only not to lead you astray in the future. If you can read, seek here what may be useful to you. It is not highnesses who question you, but Spirits who seek and find the truth with the help of God.

Frederick – Take me then by the hand; trace out for me a line of conduct, if you can… let us hope… but it will be for you… As for me, I am much troubled, and this has already lasted a century.

Voltaire – You still arouse in me the pride of being worth more than you.

That is not generous. Become good and humble so that I myself may be humble.

Frederick – Yes, but the seal which my condition as a majesty has left upon my heart always prevents me from humbling myself as you do. My heart is firm as a rock, arid as a desert, dry as the sands.

Voltaire – Are you then a poet? I did not know you had that talent, Sir.

Frederick – You are pretending, you… I ask of God only one thing: the forgetting of the past… an incarnation of trial and of labor.

Voltaire – That is better. I unite myself also with you, but I feel that I shall have to wait a long time for my remission and my pardon.

Frederick – Well, my friend, then let us pray together for once.

Voltaire – I do so always, ever since God deigned to lift from me the veil of the flesh.

Frederick – What do you think of these men who call us here?

Voltaire – They can judge us, and we can only humble ourselves before them.

Frederick – They trouble me, I… their thoughts are very different.

Q. (To Frederick) – What do you think of Spiritism?

Answer. – You are wiser than we. Do you not live a century beyond ours? And although in Heaven since that time, we have only just entered it. Q. We thank you for having answered our appeal, as well as your friend Voltaire.

Voltaire – We will come whenever you wish.

Frederick – Do not evoke me too much… I am not agreeable.

Q. Why are you not agreeable?

Answer. – I despise, and I feel despicable.

MARCH 25, 1859.

Evocation of Voltaire.

Answer. – Speak.

What do you think of Frederick, now that he is no longer here?

Answer. – He reasons very well, but he did not wish to explain himself. As I told you, he despises, and that contempt which he harbors toward all prevents him from opening his heart, fearing he will not be understood.

Very well! Would you have the kindness to complete and tell what he meant by these words: “I despise, and I feel despicable”? Answer. – Yes. He feels weak and corrupt, like all of us, and perhaps he understands even more than we do, for having abused, more than the others, the gifts of God.

How do you judge him as a monarch?

Answer. – Skillful.

Do you think he was a man of worth?

Answer. – One cannot ask that; do you not know his deeds?

Could you not give us a more exact idea of what you have made of your occupations, as a Spirit? Answer. – No. At every moment of my life I discover a new point of view of the good; I strive to practice it, or rather, to learn to practice it. When one has had an existence such as mine, there are many prejudices to combat, many thoughts to repel or to change completely, before reaching the truth.

We should like to obtain a dissertation from you, on a subject of your choice. Could you give us one? Answer. – On the Christ, yes, if you wish.

In this session?

Answer. – Later; wait. In another.

APRIL 8, 1859.

Evocation of Voltaire.

Answer. – Here I am.

Would you have the kindness to give us today the dissertation you promised?

Answer. – I hold to what I promised; only I shall be brief.

My dear friends, when I was among your ancestors, I had opinions, and in order to sustain them and make them prevail among my contemporaries, I often feigned a conviction which I did not in truth possess. It was thus that, wishing to attack the defects and the vices into which religion was falling, I sustained a thesis which today condemns me to refute it.

I attacked many pure and holy things, which my profane hand should have respected.

Thus, I assailed Christ himself, that model of superhuman virtues, one may say. Yes, poor men, perhaps we shall come to equal ourselves a little with our model, but we shall never have the devotion and the holiness which he demonstrated; he will always be above us, for he was better before us. We were still plunged in the vice of corruption, and he was already seated at the right hand of God. Here, before you, I retract everything that my pen traced against the Christ, because I love him; yes, I love him. I regretted not having been able to do so before. [see the article Confessions of Voltaire.]

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[see François-Marie Arouet.]