through ruined buildings, at length he arrived beyond the theatre of war, with a little provision in his pouch, and Miss Cunegund’s image in his heart. When he arrived in Holland his provisions failed him; but having heard that the inhabitants of that country were all rich and Christians, he made himself sure of being treated by them in the same manner as at the Baron’s castle, before he had been driven from thence through the power of Miss Cunegund’s bright eyes.
He asked charity of several grave-looking people, who one and all answered him that if he continued to follow this trade, they would have him sent to the house of correction, where he should be taught to earn his bread.
He next addressed himself to a person who had just been haranguing a numerous assembly for a whole hour on the subject of charity. The orator, squinting at him under his broad-brimmed hat, asked him sternly, what brought him thither? and whether he was for the good cause?
“Sir,” said Candide, in a submissive manner, “I conceive there can be no effect with a cause; everything is necessarily concatenated and arranged for the best. It was necessary that I should be banished the presence of Miss Cunegund; that I should afterwards run the gauntlet; and it is necessary I should beg my bread, till I am able to earn it: all this could not have been otherwise.”
“Hark ye, friend,” said the orator, “do you hold the Pope to be Antichrist?”
“Truly, I never heard anything about it,” said Candide; “but whether he is or not, I am in want of something to eat.”
“Thou deservest not to eat or to drink,” replied the orator, “wretch, monster that thou art! hence! avoid my sight, nor ever come near me again while thou livest.”
The orator’s wife happened to put her head out of the window at that instant, when, seeing a man who doubted whether the Pope was Antichrist, she discharged upon his head a chamber-pot full of . Good heavens, to what excess does religious zeal transport the female kind!
A man who had never been christened, an honest Anabaptist, named James, was witness to the cruel and ignominious treatment showed to one of his brethren, to a rational, two-footed, unfledged being. Moved with pity, he carried him to his own house, cleaned him up, gave him meat and drink, and made him a present of two florins, at the same time proposing to instruct him in his own trade of weaving Persian silks which are fabricated in Holland. Candide threw himself at his feet, crying:
“Now I am convinced that Master Pangloss told me truth, when he said
