May 15, 2026
Thanks to Alissa Simon, HMU Tutor, for today’s post.
In April, HMU hosted four discussions dedicated to Voltaire’s Candide. Although Candide is not solely about charity, we used this as the focus topic in each discussion. While charity is not listed as a great idea in the Syntopicon, it seems like a pretty vital idea for society. To begin our conversations, we focused on chapter three of Candide which closely aligns to The Parable of the Good Samaritan. The ideas set out in this chapter continue to ripple throughout Candide through various character interactions and in various geographical settings. Since the first interaction with true charity falls at the very beginning of all of Candide’s travails, it makes sense to focus on it today. Subsequent blogs will look at other sections which relate back to this initial parable.
By chapter three, Candide has introduced readers to his idyllic home at Thunder-ten-tronckh, from which he was just exiled. From there, he was conscripted into the Bulgarian army, fought a war, tried to desert the Bulgars for which he was nearly executed, and escaped again. All in the space of two short chapters.
Chapter three opens with a sardonic appreciation of the beauty of a well-trained army, the same army that Candide now flees. The same army responsible for butchering and murdering women and children. The same army responsible for flogging Candide. After this, Candide once again deserts the Bulgars (successfully this time), but must walk over horrific ruins and “heaps of writhing bodies” before leaving “the theatre of war behind him.” Voltaire does not want the reader to admire the well-trained army responsible for such chaos.
Candide arrives in a new town on the point of death and starvation. The following excerpts are Candide’s introduction to this new town as well as the Parable of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10.
Chapter three from Candide, (Penguin Classics translated by John Butt):
[Candide] appealed for alms from several important-looking people, who all told him that if he persisted in begging he would be sent to a reformatory to be taught how to earn his daily bread.
At last he approached a man who had just been addressing a big audience for a whole hour on the subject of charity. The orator peered at him, and said:
“What is your business here? Do you support the Good Old Cause?”
“There is no effect without a cause,” replied Candide modestly. “All things are necessarily connected and arranged for the best. It was my fate to be driven from Lady Cunegonde’s presence and made to run the gauntlet, and now I have to beg my bread until I can earn it. Things could not have happened otherwise.”
“Do you believe that the Pope is Antichrist, my friend?” said the minister.
“I have never heard anyone say so,” replied Candide; “but whether he is or he isn’t, I want some food.”
“You don’t deserve to eat,” said the other. “Be off with you, you villain, you wretch! Don’t come near me again or you’ll suffer for it.”
The minister’s wife looked out of the window at that moment, and seeing a man who was not sure that the Pope was Antichrist, emptied over his head a pot full of…., which shows to what lengths ladies are driven by religious zeal.
A man who had never been christened, a worthy Anabaptist called James, had seen the cruel and humiliating treatment of his brother man, a creature without wings but with two legs and a soul; he brought him home and washed him, gave him some bread and beer and a couple of florins, and even offered to apprentice him to his business of manufacturing those Persian silks that are made in Holland. Candide almost fell at his feet.
The Parable of the Good Samaritan; Luke 10: 25-37
25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
26 “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”
27 He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
28 “You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
30 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’
36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”
37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”
Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”
***
Like the priest in the parable, the minister rejects Candide, refusing to see him as a human. Rather than caring for Candide, the minister refuses to help him because of some perceived religious quarrel. On the other hand, James, “a man who had never been christened,” treats Candide as a “brother man.” Echoing the advice of Jesus, Voltaire uses this scene as the baseline for charity throughout the book. We will return to this notion of charity in Candide next week.
Photo credit: Shutterstock/ madyes
