แ

admirer, affected to regard literary distinction as a trifle. "I beg," he said, "that you will look upon me, not as an author, but as a gentleman." "If," replied Voltaire, disgusted with his foppery, "you had had the misfortune to be simply a gentleman, I should not have troubled myself to wait upon you." To Congreve he owed, we suspect, his introduction to the Dowager Duchess of Marlborough, who not only communicated to him some interesting particulars which he afterwards wove into his "Siècle de Louis XIV.," but is said to have solicited his assistance in drawing up her memoirs. This task he at first consented to undertake. The duchess laid the papers before him, and issued her instructions. Finding, however, that he was to write, not as unbiassed historical justice required, but as her Grace's capricious prejudices dictated, he ventured to expostulate. Upon that her manner suddenly changed. Fly. ing into a passion, she snatched the paper from him, muttering, "I thought the man had sense; but I find him, at bottom, either a fool or a philosopher." The story is told by Goldsmith; * it would be interesting to know on what authority.

English. Their intrinsic merit is not, it must be admitted, of a high order, but as a literary curiosity they will bear repetition:

Hervey, would you know the passion
You have kindled in my breast?
Trifling is the inclination

That by words can be express'd.

In my silence see the lover

True love is best by silence known;
In my eyes you'll best discover

All the power of your own.

A curious fortune attended these verses. They were subsequently transcribed and addressed to a lady named Laura Harley -the wife of a London merchant by one of her gallants, and they formed part of the evidence on which her husband grounded his claim for a divorce.* This has misled Mr. Parton, who supposes that Voltaire wrote them, not in honor of Lady Hervey, but in honor of poor Mr. Harley's erring wife. That they awoke no jealousy in Lord Hervey is proved by Voltaire's letter to Thiériot, dated April, 1732, and by a letter he addressed to Hervey himself in 1740. But the beautiful wife of Lord Hervey was not the only lady distinguished by the admiration of Voltaire. He has spoken in rapturous terms of the

lingbroke, for whom he finds a place in his "Siècle de Louis XIV. ;" and an unpublished letter in the British Museum shows that he had paid assiduous court to Lady Sundon, who had evidently not been insensible to his flattery.f

Another story, resting, it is true, on no very satisfactory testimony, but in itself so intrinsically probable that we are in-graces and accomplishments of Lady Boclined to believe it genuine, is related by Desnoiresterres. Voltaire, hearing that the duchess was engaged in preparing her memoirs for publication, ventured to ask if he might be permitted to glance at the manuscript. "You must wait a little," she said, "for I am revising it;" coolly observing that the conduct of the government had so disgusted her that she had determined to recast the character of Queen Anne, "as I have," she added, since these creatures have been our rulers, come to love her again." Pope's Atossa was assuredly no caricature, and a better commentary on it it would be impossible to find.

Like most of his countrymen Voltaire appears to have been greatly struck with the beauty of the English women, and about this time he became acquainted with one whose charms have been more frequently celebrated than those of any other woman of that age. Voltaire was one of the thousand adorers of Molly Lepel, then the wife of Lord Hervey. To her he addressed a copy of verses which are interesting as being the only verses now extant composed by him in

• Life of Voltaire, Miscellaneous Works, iv., p. 25.

And now we come to a very curious story, a story which is related in detail by Ruffhead, and has been repeated by Johnson. It had long been suspected by Pope and Bolingbroke that Voltaire was playing a double part; in other words, that he had formed a secret alliance with the court party, and was acting as their spy. Their suspicion was soon confirmed. In February, 1727, appeared the third of a series of letters in which the character and policy of Walpole were very severely handled. The letter was written with unusual energy and skill; it attracted much attention, and Walpole's friends were anxious to discover the author. While it was still the theme of conversation Voltaire came to Twickenham, and asked Pope if he could tell him who wrote it. Pope, seeing his object, and wishing

his "Les Divorces Anglais," and is discussed by

* This circumstance is mentioned by Châteauneuf in

Desnoiresterres.

† Additional MSS.

to prove him, informed him in the strict-phant; but it is nevertheless true that he est confidence that he was himself the too often figures in a character closely author of it, "and,” he added, "I trust bordering on both. His correspondence to your honor as a gentleman, Mr. Vol- and his conversation no doubt resemtaire, that you will communicate this se- bled his correspondence - is almost sickcret to no living soul." The letter had ening. His compliments are so fulsome, really been written by Bolingbroke, and his flattery so exaggerated, that they might bore in truth no traces of Pope's style; excusably be mistaken for elaborate irony. but the next day every one at court was He seems to be always on his knees. speaking of it as Pope's composition, and There was scarcely a distinguished man Voltaire's treachery was manifest. To then living in England who had not been this Bolingbroke apparently alludes in a the object of this nauseous homage. He letter to Swift (May 18, 1727): "I would pours it indiscriminately on Pope, Swift, have you insinuate that the only reason Gay, Clarke, on half the Cabinet and on Walpole can have to ascribe them (i.e. the half the peerage. In a man of this charoccasional letters just alluded to) to a acter falsehood and hypocrisy are the very particular person is the authority of one essence of his composition. There is of his spies, who wriggles himself into nothing, however base, to which he will the company of those who neither love, not stoop; there is no law in the code of esteem, nor fear the minister, that he social honor which he is not capable of may report, not what he hears, since no violating. The fact that he continued to man speaks with any freedom before him, remain on friendly terms with Pope and but what he guesses." Conduct so scan- Bolingbroke can scarcely be alleged as a dalous as this ought not to be lightly proof of his innocence, for neither Pope imputed to any man, and it would be sat- nor Bolingbroke would, for such an ofisfactory to know that Voltaire had either fence, be likely to quarrel with a man in a been traduced or misrepresented. It is position so peculiar as that of Voltaire. not likely, however, that the story was His flattery was pleasant, and his flattery, invented by Warburton, from whom Ruff- as they well knew, might some day be head almost certainly had it, and there is, worth having. No injuries are so readily moreover, strong presumptive evidence in overlooked as those which affect neither its favor. Voltaire had undoubtedly been men's purses nor men's vanity. meddling with the matter, for in a letter to Thiériot dated May 27, 1727, he says: "Do not talk of the occasional writer. Do not say that it is not of my Lord Bolingbroke. Do not say that it is a wretched performance. You cannot be judge." It is certain that he twice received money from the court; it is certain that he visited Walpole, and that he sought every opportunity of ingratiating himself with the king and with the king's friends. It is clear that neither Pope nor any member of Pope's circle had much confidence in him. Bolingbroke has indeed expressly declared that he believed him capable of double-dealing and insincerity, and what Bolingbroke observed in him was observed also by Young.† Nor was such conduct at all out of keeping with the general tenor of Voltaire's behavior during his residence among us. Throughout his aims were purely selfish, and to attain those ends he resorted to means which no man of an honest and independent spirit would have stooped to use. It would perhaps be unduly harsh to describe him as a parasite and a syco

See his letter to Madame de Ferriole, dated December, 1725, Lettres Historiques, vol. iii., p. 274. ↑ Spence's Anecdotes, p. 285.

Meanwhile he was diligently collecting materials which were afterwards embod ied in his "Lettres Philosophiques," his "Dictionnaire Philosophique," his "Siè cle de Louis XIV.", and his "Histoire de Charles XII." First he investigated the history and tenets of the Quakers. He sought the acquaintance of one Andrew Pitt, who resided in the country not far from London, and he attended a Quakers' meeting, of which he gives a very amusing account, near the Monument. The substance of his conversation with Pitt, supplemented by his own independent study of Quaker literature, he has embodied in the article on Quakers in the "Philosophical Dictionary," and in the first four "Philosophical Letters." He investigated the various religious sects into which English Protestantism had divided itself, and to these schisms he somewhat paradoxically ascribes the harmony and contentment reigning in the religious world of England. "If," he observes, "only one religion were allowed in England, the government would very possibly become arbitrary; if there were other's throats; but as there are such a but two, the people would cut one anmultitude, they all live happy and in

peace." He studied the economy of the But nothing impressed him so deeply as Established Church, and the habits and the homage paid, and paid by all classes, character of the clergy. Our commerce, to intellectual eminence. Parts and genour finance, and our government, each ius were, he observed, a sure passport, engaged his attention, and on each he not, as in France, to the barren wreath of has commented with his usual superficial the Academy, but to affluence and popu cleverness. Three things he observed larity. By his pen Addison had risen to with especial pleasure, because they con- one of the highest offices of the State. trasted so strongly with what he had been A few graceful poems had made the foraccustomed to witness in France. He tunes of Stepney, Prior, Gay, Parnell, found himself for the first time in his life Tickell, and Ambrose Philipps. By his in the midst of a free people, a people essays Steele had won a commissionerwho lived unshackled save by laws which ship of stamps and a place in Parliament. they had themselves enacted; a people A single comedy had made Congreve inwho, enjoying the inestimable privilege of dependent for life. Newton was master a free press, were, in the phrase of Taci- of the mint, and Locke had been a comtus, at liberty to think what they pleased, missioner of appeals. He records with and to publish what they thought. He pride that the portrait of Walpole was to beheld a splendid and powerful aristoc- be seen only in his own closet, but that racy, not as in Paris, standing contemptu the portraits of Pope were to be seen in ously aloof from science and letters, but half the great houses in England. Go," themselves not unfrequently eager candi- he says, "into Westminster Abbey, and dates for literary and scientific distinction. you find that what raises the admiration of The names of many of these noble au- the spectator is not the mausoleums of thors he has recorded, and they are, he the English kings, but the monuments adds, more glorious for their works than which the gratitude of the nation has for their titles. With not less pleasure erected to perpetuate the memory of those he beheld the honorable rank assigned in illustrious men who contributed to its English society to a class who were in glory." He thought bitterly how in his the Faubourg St. Germain regarded with own country he had seen Crébillon on the disdain. Voltaire was perhaps the first verge of perishing by hunger, and the son writer of eminence in Europe who had of Racine on the last stage of abject desthe courage to vindicate the dignity of titution. When, too, on his return to trade. He relates with pride how, when France, he saw the body of poor Adrienne the Earl of Oxford held the reins of le Couvreur refused the last rites of reGreat Britain in his hands, his younger ligion, and buried with the burial of a brother was a factor at Aleppo; how, dog, "because she was an actress," his when Lord Townshend was directing the thoughts wandered to the generous and councils of his sovereign in the Painted large-hearted citizens who laid the coffin Chamber, one of his nearest relatives was of Anne Oldfield beside the coffins of soliciting custom in a counting-house in their kings and of their heroes. the City. He draws a sarcastic parallel between a "seigneur, powdered in the life of the mode, who knows exactly what o'clock the king rises and goes to bed, and who gives himself airs of grandeur

and state at the same time that he is acting the slave in the antechamber of a prime minister," and a merchant who enriches his country, despatches orders from his counting-house to Surat and Grand Cairo, and contributes to the felicity of the world.*

See the remarkable passage at the end of the tenth letter in the "Lettres Historiques." It may be worth mentioning that this work is in two forms-the English translation, which preceded all extant French editions, appeared in 1733, and was executed under the superintendence of Thiériot, its title being "Letters concerning the English Nation," by M. Voltaire. It appeared in French the following year as "Lettres Philosophiques."

rivale d'Athène, O Londre ! heureuse terre,
Ainsi que les tyrans, vous avez su chasser
Les préjugés honteux qui vous livraient la
C'est là qu'on sait tout dire et tout récom

guerre.

penser.

Nul art n'est méprisé, tout succès a sa gloire.
Le vainqueur de Tallard, le fils de la victoire,
Le sublime Dryden, et le sage Addison,
Et la charmante Oldfield, et l'immortel Newton
Ont part au temple de mémoire,
Et le Couvreur à Londre aurait eu des tom-
beaux

Parmi les beaux-esprits, les rois et les héros.
Quiconque a des talents à Londre est un grand

homme.

(La Mort le Mlle. de Couvreur.)

Here we must pause. The history of Voltaire between the period at which we have now arrived and his departure from

Three nights and days to the thwarts bound The thrust made a burst of frame and plank,

It was then that he cried through the breakers' "They starved, and got a common grave