History of Friedrich II of Prussia — Volume 21

In regard to the "Landgravine of Darmstadt," notice these points. First, that her eldest Daughter is Wife, second Wife, to the dissolute Crown-Prince of Prussia; and then, that she has Three other Daughters,—one of whom has just been disposed of in an important way; wedded to the Czarowitsh Paul of Russia, namely. By Friedrich's means and management, as Friedrich informs us. [OEuvres de Frederic, (MEMOIRES DE 1763 JUSQU'A 1775), vi. 57.] The Czarina, he says, had sent out a confidential Gentleman, one Asseburg, who was Prussian by birth, to seek a fit Wife for her Son: Friedrich, hearing of this, suggested to Asseburg, "The Landgravine of Darmstadt, the most distinguished and accomplished of German Princesses, has three marriageable Daughters; her eldest, married to our Crown-Prince, will be Queen of Prussia in time coming;—suppose now, one of the others were to be Czarina of Russia withal? Think, might it not be useful both to your native Country and to your adopted?" Asseburg took the hint; reported at Petersburg, That of all marriageable Princesses in Germany, the Three of Darmstadt, one or the other of them, would, in his humble opinion, be the eligiblest. "Could not we persuade you to come to Petersburg, Madam Landgravine?" wrote the Czarina thereupon: "Do us the honor of a visit, your three Princesses and you!" The Landgravine and Daughters, with decent celerity, got under way; [Passed through Berlin 16th-19th May, 1773: Rodenbeck, iii. 78.] Czarowitsh Paul took interesting survey, on their arrival; and about two months ago wedded the middle one of the three:—and here is the victorious Landgravine bringing home the other two. Czarowitsh's fair one did not live long, nor behave well: died of her first child; and Czarowitsh, in 1776, had to apply to us again for a Wife, whom this time we fitted better. Happily, the poor victorious Landgravine was gone before anything of this; she died suddenly five months hence; [30th March, 1774.] nothing doubting of her Russian Adventure. She was an admired Princess of her time, DIE GROSSE LANDGRAFIN, as Goethe somewhere calls her; much in Friedrich's esteem,—FEMINA SEXU, INGENIO VIR, as the Monument he raised to her at Darmstadt still bears. [OEuvres de Frederic, xx. 183 n. His CORRESPONDENCE with her is Ib. xxvii ii. 135-153; and goes from 1757 to 1774.]

FRIEDRICH TO D'ALEMBERT.

"POTSDAM, 16th December, 1773.

"M. de Crillon delivered me your CRILLONADE [lengthy Letter of introduction]; which has completed me in the History of all the Crillons of the County of Avignon. He does n't stop here; he is soon to be off for Russia; so that I will take him on your word, and believe him the wisest of all the Crillons: assuring myself that you have measured and computed all his curves, and angles of incidence. He will find Diderot and Grimm in Russia [famous visit of Diderot], all occupied with the Czarina's beautiful reception of them, and with the many things worthy of admiration which they have seen there. Some say Grimm will possibly fix himself in that Country [chose better],—which will be the asylum at once of your fanatic CHAUMEIXES and of the ENCYCLOPEDISTES, whom he used to denounce. [This poor Chaumeix did, after such feats, "die peaceably at Moscow, as a Schoolmaster."]

"M. de Guibert has gone by Ferney; where it is said Voltaire has converted him, that is, has made him renounce the errors of ambition, abjure the frightful trade of hired manslayer, with intent to become either Capuchin or Philosophe; so that I suppose by this time he will have published a 'Declaration' like Gresset, informing the public That, having had the misfortune to write a Work on Tactics, he repented it from the bottom of his soul, and hereby assured mankind that never more in his life would he give rules for butcheries, assassinations, feints, stratagems or the like abominations. As to me, my conversion not being yet in an advanced stage, I pray you to give me details about Guibert's, to soften my heart and penetrate my bowels.

"We have the Landgravine of Darmstadt here: [Rodenbeck, iii. 89, 90.] no end to the Landgravine's praises of a magnificent Czarina, and of all the beautiful and grand things she has founded in that Country. As to us, who live like mice in their holes, news come to us only from mouth to mouth, and the sense of hearing is nothing like that of sight. I cherish my wishes, in the mean while, for the sage Anaxagoras [my D'Alembert himself]; and I say to Urania, 'It is for thee to sustain thy foremost Apostle, to maintain one light, without which a great Kingdom [France] would sink into darkness;' and I say to the Supreme Demiurgus: 'Have always the good D'Alembert in thy holy and worthy keeping.'—F." [OEuvres de Frederic, xxiv. 614.]

THE BOSTON TEA (same day). Curious to remark, while Friedrich is writing this Letter, "THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16th, 1773," what a commotion is going on, far over seas, at Boston, New England,—in the "Old South Meeting-house" there; in regard to three English Tea Ships that are lying embargoed in Griffin's Wharf for above a fortnight past. The case is well known, and still memorable to mankind. British Parliament, after nine years of the saddest haggling and baffling to and fro, under Constitutional stress of weather, and such east-winds and west-winds of Parliamentary eloquence as seldom were, has made up its mind, That America shall pay duty on these Teas before infusing them: and America, Boston more especially, is tacitly determined that it will not; and that, to avoid mistakes, these Teas shall never be landed at all. Such is Boston's private intention, more or less fixed;—to say nothing of the Philadelphias, Charlestons, New Yorks, who are watching Boston, and will follow suit of it.

"Sunday, November 26th,—that is, nineteen days ago,—the first of these Tea Ships, the DARTMOUTH, Captain Hall, moored itself in Griffin's Wharf: Owner and Consignee is a broad-brimmed Boston gentleman called Rotch, more attentive to profits of trade than to the groans of Boston:—but already on that Sunday, much more on the Monday following, there had a meeting of Citizens run together,—(on Monday, Faneuil Hall won't hold them, and they adjourn to the Old South Meeting-house),—who make it apparent to Rotch that it will much behoove him, for the sake both of tea and skin, not to 'enter' (or officially announce) this Ship DARTMOUTH at the Custom-house in any wise; but to pledge his broad-brimmed word, equivalent to his oath, that she shall lie dormant there in Griffin's Wharf, till we see. Which, accordingly, she has been doing ever since; she and two others that arrived some days later; dormant all three of them, side by side, three crews totally idle; a 'Committee of Ten' supervising Rotch's procedures; and the Boston world much expectant. Thursday, December 16th: this is the 20th day since Rotch's DARTMOUTH arrived here; if not 'entered' at Custom-house in the course of this day, Custom-house cannot give her a 'clearance' either (a leave to depart),—she becomes a smuggler, an outlaw, and her fate is mysterious to Rotch and us.

"This Thursday accordingly, by 10 in the morning, in the Old South Meeting-house, Boston is assembled, and country-people to the number of 2,000;—and Rotch never was in such a company of human Friends before. They are not uncivil to him (cautious people, heedful of the verge of the Law); but they are peremptory, to the extent of—Rotch may shudder to think what. "I went to the Custom-house yesterday,' said Rotch, 'your Committee of Ten can bear me witness; and demanded clearance and leave to depart; but they would not; were forbidden, they said!' 'Go, then, sir; get you to the Governor himself; a clearance, and out of harbor this day: had n't you better?' Rotch is well aware that he had; hastens off to the Governor (who has vanished to his Country-house, on purpose); Old South Meeting-house adjourning till 3 P.M., for Rotch's return with clearance.

"At 3 no Rotch, nor at 4, nor at 5; miscellaneous plangent intermittent speech instead, mostly plangent, in tone sorrowful rather than indignant:—at a quarter to 6, here at length is Rotch; sun is long since set,—has Rotch a clearance or not? Rotch reports at large, willing to be questioned and cross-questioned: 'Governor absolutely would not! My Christian friends, what could I or can I do?' There are by this time about 7,000 people in Old South Meeting-house, very few tallow-lights in comparison,—almost no lights for the mind either,—and it is difficult to answer. Rotch's report done, the Chairman [one Adams, "American Cato," subsequently so called] dissolves the sorrowful 7,000, with these words: 'This Meeting declares that it can do nothing more to save the Country.' Will merely go home, then, and weep. Hark, however: almost on the instant, in front of Old South Meeting-house, (a terrific War-whoop; and about fifty Mohawk Indians,)—with whom Adams seems to be acquainted; and speaks without Interpreter: Aha?—

"And, sure enough, before the stroke of 7, these fifty painted Mohawks are forward, without noise, to Griffin's Wharf; have put sentries all round there; and, in a great silence of the neighborhood, are busy, in three gangs, upon the dormant Tea Ships; opening their chests, and punctually shaking them out into the sea. 'Listening from the distance, you could hear distinctly the ripping open of the chests, and no other sound.' About 10 P.M. all was finished: 342 chests of tea flung out to infuse in the Atlantic; the fifty Mohawks gone like a dream; and Boston sleeping more silently even than usual." ["Summary of the Advices from America" (in Gentleman's Magazine for 1774, pp. 26, 27); Bancroft, iii. 536 et seq.]

"Seven in the evening:" this, I calculate, allowing for the Earth's rotation, will be about the time when Friedrich, well tired with the day's business, is getting to bed; by 10 on the Boston clocks, when the process finishes there, Friedrich will have had the best of his sleep over. Here is Montcalm's Prophecy coming to fulfilment;—and a curious intersection of a flying Event through one's poor LETTER TO D'ALEMBERT. We will now give the two English Interviews with Voltaire; one of which is of three years past, another of three years ahead.

No. 1. DR BURNEY HAS SIGHT OF VOLTAIRE (July, 1770)

In the years 1770-1771, Burney, then a famous DOCTOR OF MUSIC, made his TOUR through France and Italy, on Musical errands and researches: [Charles Burney's Present State of Music in France and Italy, being the Journal of a Tour through those Countries to collect Materials for a General History of Music (London, 1773). The History of Music followed duly, in Four 4tos (London, 1776-1789).] with these we have no concern, but only with one most small exceptional offshoot or episode which grew out of these. Enough for us to know that Burney, a comfortable, well-disposed, rather dull though vivacious Doctor, age near 45, had left London for Paris "in June, 1770;" that he was on to Geneva, intending for Turin, "early in July;" and that his "M. Fritz," mentioned below, is a veteran Brother in Music, settled at Geneva for the last thirty years, who has been helpful and agreeable to Burney while here. Our Excerpt therefore dates itself, "one of the early days of July, 1770,"—Burney hovering between two plans (as we shall dimly perceive), and not exactly executing either:—

"My going to M. Fritz broke [was about breaking, but did not quite] into a plan which I had formed of visiting M. de Voltaire, at the same hour, along with some other strangers, who were then going to Ferney. But, to say the truth, besides the visit to M. Fritz being more MY BUSINESS, I did not much like going with these people, who had only a Geneva Bookseller to introduce them; and I had heard that some English had lately met with a rebuff from M. de Voltaire, by going without any letter of recommendation, or anything to recommend themselves. He asked them What they wanted? Upon their replying That they wished only to see so extraordinary a man, he said: 'Well, gentlemen, you now see me: did you take me for a wild beast or monster, that was fit only to be stared at as a show?' This story very much frightened me; for, not having, when I left London, or even Paris, any intention of going to Geneva, I was quite unprovided with a recommendation. However, I was determined to see the place of his residence, which I took to be [still LES DELICES],

CETTE MAISON D'ARISTIPPE, CES JARDINS D'PICURE,

to which he retired in 1755; but was mistaken [not The DELICES now at all, but Ferney, for nine or ten years back].

"I drove to Ferney alone, after I had left M. Fritz. This House is three or four miles from Geneva, but near the Lake. I approached it with reverence, and a curiosity of the most minute kind. I inquired WHEN I first trod on his domain; I had an intelligent and talkative postilion, who answered all my questions very satisfactorily. M. de Voltaire's estate is very large here, and he is building pretty farm-houses upon it. He has erected on the Geneva side a quadrangular JUSTICE, or Gallows, to show that he is the SEIGNEUR. One of his farms, or rather manufacturing houses,—for he is establishing a manufacture upon his estate,—was so handsome that I thought it was his chateau.

"We drove to Ferney, through a charming country, covered with corn and vines, in view of the Lake, and Mountains of Gex, Switzerland and Savoy. On the left hand, approaching the House, is a neat Chapel with this inscription:—

'DEO EREXIT VOLTAIRE MDCCLXI.'

I sent to inquire, Whether a stranger might be allowed to see the House and Gardens; and was answered in the affirmative. A servant soon came, and conducted me into the cabinet or closet where his Master had just been writing: this is never shown when he is at home; but having walked out, I was allowed that privilege. From thence I passed to the Library, which is not a very large one, but well filled. Here I found a whole-length Figure in marble of himself, recumbent, in one of the windows; and many curiosities in another room; a Bust of himself, made not two years since; his Mother's picture; that of his Niece, Madam Denis; his Brother, M. Dupuis; the Calas Family; and others. It is a very neat and elegant House; not large, nor affectedly decorated.

"I should first have remarked, that close to the Chapel, between that and the house, is the Theatre, which he built some years ago; where he treated his friends with some of his own Tragedies: it is now only used as a receptacle for wood and lumber, there having been no play acted in it these four years. The servant told me his Master was 78 [76 gone], but very well. 'IL TRAVAILLE,' said he, 'PENDANT DIX HEURES CHAQUE JOUR, He studies ten hours every day; writes constantly without spectacles, and walks out with only a domestic, often a mile or two—ET LE VOILA, LA BAS, And see, yonder he is!'

"He was going to his workmen. My heart leaped at the sight of so extraordinary a man. He had just then quitted his Garden, and was crossing the court before his House. Seeing my chaise, and me on the point of mounting it, he made a sign to his servant who had been my CICERONE, to go to him; in order, I suppose, to inquire who I was. After they had exchanged a few words together, he," M. de Voltaire, "approached the place where I was standing motionless, in order to contemplate his person as much as I could while his eyes were turned from me; but on seeiug him move towards me, I found myself drawn by some irresistible power towards him; and, without knowing what I did, I insensibly met him half-way.

"It is not easy to conceive it possible for life to subsist in a form so nearly composed of mere skin and bone as that of M. de Voltaire." Extremely lean old Gentleman! "He complained of decrepitude, and said, He supposed I was anxious to form an idea of the figure of one walking after death. However, his eyes and whole countenance are still full of fire; and though so emaciated, a more lively expression cannot be imagined.

"He inquired after English news; and observed that Poetical squabbles had given way to Political ones; but seemed to think the spirit of opposition as necessary in poetry as in politics. 'Les querelles d'auteurs sont pour le bien de la litterature, comme dans un gouvernement libre les querelles des grands, et les clameurs des petits, sont necessaires a la liberte.' And added, 'When critics are silent, it does not so much prove the Age to be correct, as dull.' He inquired what Poets we had now; I told him we had Mason and Gray. 'They write but little,' said he: 'and you seem to have no one who lords it over the rest, like Dryden, Pope and Swift.' I told him that it was one of the inconveniences of Periodical Journals, however well executed, that they often silenced modest men of genius, while impudent blockheads were impenetrable, and unable to feel the critic's scourge: that Mr. Gray and Mr. Mason had both been illiberally treated by mechanical critics, even in newspapers; and added, that modesty and love of quiet seemed in these gentlemen to have got the better even of their love of fame.

"During this conversation, we approached the buildings that he was constructing near the road to his Chateau. 'These,' said he, pointing to them, 'are the most innocent, and perhaps the most useful, of all my works.' I observed that he had other works, which were of far more extensive use, and would be much more durable, than those. He was so obliging as to show me several farm-houses that he had built, and the plans of others: after which I took my leave." [Burney's Present State of Music (London, 1773), pp. 55-62.

NO. 2. A REVEREND MR. SHERLOCK SEES VOLTAIRE, AND EVEN DINES WITH HIM (April, 1776)

Sherlock's Book of TRAVELS, though he wrote it in two languages, and it once had its vogue, is now little other than a Dance of Will-o'-wisps to us. A Book tawdry, incoherent, indistinct, at once flashy and opaque, full of idle excrescences and exuberances;—as is the poor man himself. He was "Chaplain to the Earl of Bristol, Bishop of Derry;" gyrating about as ecclesiastical Moon to that famed Solar Luminary, what could you expect! [Title of his Book is, Letters from an English Traveller; translated from the French Original (London, 1780). Ditto, Letters from an English Trader; written originally in French; by the Rev. Martin Sherlock, A.M., Chaplain to the Earl of Bristol, &c. (a new Edition, 2 vols., London, 1802).] Poor Sherlock is nowhere intentionally fabulous; nor intrinsically altogether so foolish as he seems: let that suffice us. In his Dance of Will-o'-wisps, which in this point happily is dated,—26th-27th April, 1776,—he had come to Ferney, with proper introduction to Voltaire; and here (after severe excision of the flabby parts, but without other change) is credible account of what he saw and heard. In Three Scenes; with this Prologue,—as to Costume, which is worth reading twice:—

VOLTAIRE'S DRESS. "On the two days I saw him, he wore white cloth shoes, white woollen stockings, red breeches, with a nightgown and waistcoat of blue linen, flowered, and lined with yellow. He had on a grizzle wig with three ties, and over it a silk nightcap embroidered with gold and silver."

SCENE I. THE ENTRANCE-HALL OF FERNEY (Friday, 26th April, 1776): EXUBERANT SHERLOCK ENTERING, LETTER OF INTRODUCTION HAVING PRECEDED.

"He met in the hall; his Nephew M. d'Hornoi" (Grand-nephew; Abbe Mignot, famous for BURYING Voltaire, and Madame Denis, whom we know, were D'Hornoi's Uncle and Aunt)—Grand-nephew, "Counsellor in the Parlement of Paris, held him by the arm. He said to me, with a very weak voice: 'You see a very old man, who makes a great effort to have the honor of seeing you. Will you take a walk in my Garden? It will please you, for it is in the English taste:—it was I who introduced that taste into France, and it is become universal. But the French parody your Gardens: they put your thirty acres into three.'

"From his Gardens you see the Alps, the Lake, the City of Geneva and its environs, which are very pleasant. He said:—

VOLTAIRE. "'It is a beautiful prospect.' He pronounced these words tolerably well.

SHERLOCK. "'How long is it since you were in England?'

VOLTAIRE. "'Fifty years, at least.' [Not quite; in 1728 left; in 1726 had come.] [Supra, vii. 47.]

D'HORNOI. "'It was at the time when you printed the First Edition of your HENRIADE.'

"We then talked of Literature; and from that moment he forgot his age and infirmities, and spoke with the warmth of a man of thirty. He said some shocking things against Moses and against Shakspeare. [Like enough!]... We then talked of Spain.

VOLTAIRE. "'It is a Country of which we know no more than of the most savage parts of Africa; and it is not worth the trouble of being known. If a man would travel there, he must carry his bed, &c. On arriving in a Town, he must go into one street to buy a bottle of wine; a piece of a mule [by way of beef] in another; he finds a table in a third,—and he sups. A French Nobleman was passing through Pampeluna: he sent out for a spit; there was only one in the Town, and that was lent away for a wedding.'

D'HORNOI. "'There, Monsieur, is a Village which M. de Voltaire has built!'

VOLTAIRE. "'Yes, we have our freedoms here. Cut off a little corner, and we are out of France. I asked some privileges for my Children here, and the King has granted me all that I asked, and has declared this Pays de Gex exempt from all Taxes of the Farmers-General; so that salt, which formerly sold for ten sous a pound, now sells for four. I have nothing more to ask, except to live.'—We went into the Library" (had made the round of the Gardens, I suppose).

SCENE II. IN THE LIBRARY.

VOLTAIRE. "'There you find several of your countrymen [he had Shakspeare, Milton, Congreve, Rochester, Shaftesbury, Bolingbroke, Robertson, Hume and others]. Robertson is your Livy; his CHARLES FIFTH is written with truth. Hume wrote his History to be applauded, Rapin to instruct; and both obtained their ends.'

SHERLOCK. "'Lord Bolingbroke and you agreed that we have not one good Tragedy.'

VOLTAIRE. "'We did think so. CATO is incomparably well written: Addison had a great deal of taste;—but the abyss between taste and genius is immense! Shakspeare had an amazing genius, but no taste: he has spoiled the taste of the Nation. He has been their taste for two hundred years; and what is the taste of a Nation for two hundred years will be so for two thousand. This kind of taste becomes a religion; there are, in your Country, a great many Fanatics for Shakspeare.'

SHERLOCK. "'Were you personally acquainted with Lord Bolingbroke?'

VOLTAIRE. "'Yes. His face was imposing, and so was his voice; in his WORKS there are many leaves and little fruit; distorted expressions, and periods intolerably long. [TAKING DOWN A BOOK.] There, you see the KORAN, which is well read, at least. [It was marked throughout with bits of paper.] There are HISTORIC DOUBTS, by Horace Walpole [which had also several marks]; here is the portrait of Richard III.; you see he was a handsome youth.'

SHERLOCK (making an abrupt transition). "'You have built a Church?'

VOLTAIRE. "'True; and it is the only one in the Universe in honor of God [DEO EREXIT VOLTAIRE, as we read above]: you have plenty of Churches built to St. Paul, to St. Genevieve, but not one to God.'" EXIT Sherlock (to his Inn; makes jotting as above;—is to dine at Ferney to-morrow).

SCENE III. DINNER-TABLE OF VOLTAIRE.

"The next day, as we sat down to Dinner," our Host in the above shining costume, "he said, in English tolerably pronounced:—

VOLTAIRE. "'We are here for liberty and property! [parody of some old Speech in Parliament, let us guess,—liberty and property, my Lords!] This Gentleman—whom let me present to Monsieur Sherlock—is a Jesuit [old Pere Adam, whom I keep for playing Chess, in his old, unsheltered days]; he wears his hat: I am a poor invalid,—I wear my nightcap.'...

"I do not now recollect why he quoted these verses, also in English, by Rochester, on CHARLES SECOND:—

 
     'Here lies the mutton-eating King,
 
 
     Who never said a foolish thing,
     Nor ever did a wise one.'
 

But speaking of Racine, he quoted this Couplet (of Roscomman's ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE):—

 
     'The weighty bullion of one sterling line
     Drawn to French wire would through whole pages shine.
 

SHERLOCK. "'The English prefer Corneille to Racine.'

VOLTAIRE. "'That is because the English are not sufficiently acquainted with the French tongue to feel the beauties of Racine's style, or the harmony of his versification. Corneille ought to please them more because he is more striking; but Racine pleases the French because he has more softness and tenderness.'

SHERLOCK. "'How did you find [LIKE] the English fare (LA CHERE ANGLAISE?'—which Voltaire mischievously takes for 'the dear Englishwoman').

VOLTAIRE. "'I found her very fresh and white,'—truly! [It should be remembered, that when he made this pun upon Women he was in his eighty-third year.]

SHERLOCK. "'Their language?'

VOLTAIRE. "'Energetic, precise and barbarous; they are the only Nation that pronounce their A as E.... [And some time afterwards] Though I cannot perfectly pronounce English, my ear is sensible of the harmony of your language and of your versification. Pope and Dryden have the most harmony in Poetry; Addison in Prose.' [Takes now the interrogating side.]

VOLTAIRE. "'How have you liked (AVEX-VOUS TROUVE) the French?'

SHERLOCK. "'Amiable and witty. I only find one fault with them: they imitate the English too much.'

VOLTAIRE. "'How! Do you think us worthy to be originals ourselves?'

SHERLOCK. "'Yes, Sir.'

VOLTAIRE. "'So do I too:—but it is of your Government that we are envious.'

SHERLOCK. "'I have found the French freer than I expected.'

VOLTAIRE. "'Yes, as to walking, or eating whatever he pleases, or lolling in his elbow-chair, a Frenchman is free enough; but as to taxes—Ah, Monsieur, you are a lucky Nation; you can do what you like; poor we are born in slavery: we cannot even die as we will; we must have a Priest [can't get buried otherwise; am often thinking of that!]... Well, if the English do sell themselves, it is a proof that they are worth something: we French don't sell ourselves, probably because we are worth nothing.'

SHERLOCK. "'What is your opinion of the ELOISE' [Rousseau's immortal Work]?

VOLTAIRE. "'That it will not be read twenty years hence.'

SHERLOCK. "'Mademoiselle de l'Enclos wrote some good LETTERS?'

VOLTAIRE. "'She never wrote one; they were by the wretched Crebillon' [my beggarly old "Rival" in the Pompadour epoch]!...

VOLTAIRE. "'The Italians are a Nation of brokers. Italy is an Old-Clothes shop; in which there are many Old Dresses of exquisite taste.... But we are still to know, Whether the subjects of the Pope or of the Grand Turk are the more abject.' [We have now gone to the Drawing-room, I think, though it is not jotted.]

"He talked of England and of Shakspeare; and explained to Madame Denis part of a Scene in Henry Fifth, where the King makes love to Queen Catherine in bad French; and of another in which that Queen takes a lesson in English from her Waiting-woman, and where there are several very gross double-entendres"—but, I hope, did not long dwell on these....

VOLTAIRE. "'When I see an Englishman subtle and fond of lawsuits, I say, "There is a Norman, who came in with William the Conqueror." When I see a man good-natured and polite, "That is one who came with the Plantagenets;" a brutal character, "That is a Dane:"—for your Nation, Monsieur, as well as your Language, is a medley of many others.'

"After dinner, passing through a little Parlor where there was a head of Locke, another of the Countess of Coventry, and several more, he took me by the arm and stopped me: 'Do you know this Bust [bust of Sir Isaac Newton]? It is the greatest genius that ever existed: if all the geniuses of the Universe were assembled, he should lead the band.'

"It was of Newton, and of his own Works, that M. de Voltaire always spoke with the greatest warmth." [Sherlock, LETTERS (London, 1802), i. 98-106.] (EXIT Sherlock, to jot down the above, and thence into Infinite Space.)