Home

TO CARDINAL QUIRINI. - The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

Return to Title Page for The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

Also in the Library:

Subject Area: Literature

TO CARDINAL QUIRINI. - Voltaire, The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems). [1901]

Edition used:

From The Works of Voltaire, A Contemporary Version, (New York: E.R. DuMont, 1901), A Critique and Biography by John Morley, notes by Tobias Smollett, trans. William F. Fleming. Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

Author: Voltaire
Translator: William F. Fleming
Notes: Tobias Smollett

Part of: The Works of Voltaire. A Contemporary Version, in 21 vols.

About Liberty Fund:

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.

Copyright information:

The text is in the public domain.

Fair use statement:

This material is put online to further the educational goals of Liberty Fund, Inc. Unless otherwise stated in the Copyright Information section above, this material may be used freely for educational and academic purposes. It may not be used in any way for profit.

TO CARDINAL QUIRINI.

Berlin, Dec. 12, 1751.

The temple would you have me sing,
To which you various offerings bring?
But yet though I your worth admire,
I cannot do what you require.
How can I, on the banks of Spree,
Where Roman laws no more bear sway,
My voice before all mankind raise,
And utter forth a prelate’s praise?
From Sion, distant and forlorn,
Like a good Catholic, I mourn.
My prince by heresy’s infected,
Religion’s not by him respected.
It fills my soul with poignant woe,
To think that in the shades below
He shall with ancients have his place,
Ancients who were quite void of grace;
We know those heroes, thrice renowned,
Are punished in the abyss profound;
With them he must be damned, because
He in this world lived by their laws.
But still I’m much more grieved to find
A shocking vice infects his mind;
A vice, by men called Toleration,
Which bears the opinions of each nation:
I’m shocked to think the Turkish crew,
The Quaker and the Lutheran, too,
The Protestant and Papist find
Alike, with him, reception kind,
If they can by their actions claim
Of honest men the glorious name.
But, crime more shocking to reveal,
He laughs at sanguinary zeal;
That hate which bigots fills with rage,
Which gentle pity can’t assuage,
But which the Free-thinker, professed,
Profanely turns into a jest:
What can your eminence then hope
From me who don’t revere the pope?
From me, who am the chamberlain
Of a prince obdurate in sin?
You, whose predestinated front
Bears double marks of honor on’t,
Whose scarlet hat, with laurels bound,
Shows you for poetry renowned;
Who Horace and St. Austin’s lore,
With equal genius could explore,
Who equally dost know to rise
To Pindus’ top, and paradise,
Convert that genius; you can please,
And teach mankind with equal ease;
Of Jesus Christ, the grace divine
Does often through your writings shine,
And in them often we admire
Both Homer’s grace and Homer’s fire.