Voltaire alludes to both religious conflicts in early modern Europe and ideas from classical philosophy in a brief scene set in Holland. When Candide escapes from the Bulgarian army and makes his way to Holland, he meets both a Protestant preacher and a kind Anabaptist:
“My friend,” said the orator to him, “do you believe the Pope to be Anti-Christ?”
“I have not heard it,” answered Candide; “but whether he be, or whether he be not, I want bread.”
“Thou dost not deserve to eat,” said the other. “Begone, rogue; begone, wretch; do not come near me again.” [...]
A man who had never been christened, a good Anabaptist, named James, beheld the cruel and ignominious treatment shown to one of his brethren, an unfeathered biped with a rational soul, he took him home [...]
Here, Voltaire satirizes the conflict between Protestantism and Catholicism that marked Europe for several centuries. The Protestant preacher asks Candide if he believes “the Pope to be Anti-Christ,” to which Candid merely responds that he is hungry. Here, Voltaire alludes to the belief of many Protestants in the 18th century that the Pope, the leader of the Catholic Church, was the “Anti-Christ,” an evil figure prophesied in the Bible, whose rise to power would lead to the Apocalypse. Despite his strong religious feelings, the preacher has little sense of charity, and he refuses to help Candide.
Later, however, Candide is assisted by a “good Anabaptist, named James” a humble man who, in accord with his beliefs, “had never been christened.” The Anabaptist is one of the few kind figures depicted in the novella, and he deplores the unkind treatment of another “unfeathered biped with a rational soul.” Here, Voltaire alludes to a famous argument between the Ancient Greek philosophers Plato and Diogenes over the correct definition of a “man.” When Plato defined man as an "unfeathered biped," Diogenes responded by satirically identifying a plucked chicken as a man.
Voltaire makes various allusions to the New World in a passage in which Professor Pangloss explains that his syphilis infection originated in Christopher Columbus’s voyage to the Americas. The passage is also an example of situational irony:
“[It] was a thing unavoidable, a necessary ingredient in the best of worlds; for if Columbus had not in an island of America caught this disease, which contaminates the source of life, frequently even hinders generation, and which is evidently opposed to the great end of nature, we should have neither chocolate nor cochineal. We are also to observe that upon our continent, this distemper is like religious controversy, confined to a particular spot. The Turks, the Indians, the Persians, the Chinese, the Siamese, the Japanese, know nothing of it [...]
Here, Voltaire alludes to Columbus, whose famous 1492 voyage to the Americas initiated the Age of Exploration, with complex and far-reaching consequences both for Europe and the New World. Pangloss explains that the introduction of syphilis to Europe does not contradict his belief that Earth is “the best of all possible worlds,” as Columbus’ voyage also brought chocolate and cochineal to Europe. Here, Voltaire alludes to two of the most famous and valuable goods transported from the New World across the Atlantic: chocolate and Cochineal, a red dye made from crushing small insects that live on cacti in Mexico. There is a strong sense of irony to this scene, as these goods do not seem to justify the introduction of an illness that “contaminates the source of life” in afflicting the genitalia of men and women.
In a section of the novella in which the old woman tells the story of her sad life to the others on the boat sailing to the New World, Voltaire alludes to the castrati, men who were castrated before or during puberty in order to preserve their ability to sing in higher registers. In the old woman’s story, she is shocked, after being kidnapped and enslaved in North Africa, to find a European man. The man then tells his own story:
“ ‘I was born at Naples,’ said he, ‘there they geld two or three thousand children every year; some die of the operation, others acquire a voice more beautiful than that of women, and others are raised to offices of state. This operation was performed on me with great success and I was chapel musician to madam, the Princess of Palestrina.’
To her surprise, the man turns out to be a chapel musician who was formerly employed by her own mother, the Princess of Palestrina, and who helped to raise her until the age of six. The man explains that he was one of “two or three thousand” male children who are castrated annually in the Italian city of Naples in order to aid in their later ability to sing high notes. The man registers the difficulties that come with this surgical procedure, in which “some die of the operation.” This practice had already become the target of a good deal of criticism in Voltaire’s time and was officially discontinued in the following century.
Voltaire employs rich imagery in his depiction of the fabled city of El Dorado in South America:
While waiting they were shown the city, and saw the public edifices raised as high as the clouds, the market places ornamented with a thousand columns, the fountains of spring water, those of rose water, those of liqueurs drawn from sugar-cane, incessantly flowing into the great squares, which were paved with a kind of precious stone, which gave off a delicious fragrancy like that of cloves and cinnamon.
In this chapter, Voltaire draws an extensive allusion to El Dorado, Spanish for “The Golden,” a fabled city of immense wealth and splendor which was sought in South America by many travelers, colonists, and conquistadors in the 16th and 17th centuries. Voltaire describes the city in lush detail, noting its buildings which rise “as high as the clouds,” its market with “a thousand columns,” and its “great squares, which were paved with a kind of precious stone.”
He also draws from other senses, noting the “delicious fragrance like that of cloves and cinnamon” which characterizes the city squares, and the various fountains of water, rose water, and even sugary liqueur which run throughout the city. By Voltaire’s time, belief that there really was a city of El Dorado had faded. However, he uses this city to imagine a utopia, or perfect society, which stands in stark contrast to the other cities and nations Candide visits throughout the novella.
In his comedic depiction of upper-class French society, Voltaire employs metaphor, allusion, and satire. After leaving South America with some of the valuable gold and diamonds which he received in El Dorado, Candide travels to France, where, accompanied by Martin and the Abbé of Périgord, he visits a building where upper-class men engage in card-playing, debate, and prostitution. There, Candide asks a French scholar if he agrees with Pangloss’s argument, derived from Leibniz, that Earth is “the best of all possible worlds.” The scholar responds:
“I know nothing of all that; I find that all goes awry with me; that no one knows either what is his rank, nor what is his condition, what he does nor what he ought to do; and that except supper, which is always gay, and where there appears to be enough concord, all the rest of the time is passed in impertinent quarrels; Jansenist against Molinist, Parliament against the Church, men of letters against men of letters, courtesans against courtesans, financiers against the people, wives against husbands, relatives against relatives—it is eternal war.”
In this passage, Voltaire satirizes his own class and nation, as a member of the French intelligentsia. The scholar, who in some ways resembles Voltaire himself, argues that everything in his life “goes awry” and that, aside from supper, “the rest of the time is passed in impertinent quarrels.” Here, Voltaire alludes to various groups, classes, and parties in French society in the 18th century, including the Jansenists (followers of bishop and theologian Cornelius Jansen) and the Molinists (followers of the theologian Luis de Molina), who were opposed on various spiritual and political grounds. In a metaphor, the scholar suggests that everyday life is “eternal war,” an all-out conflict between all parties, even “wives against husbands.” The scholar, then, provides a distinctly cynical perspective on human society and relations.