, the greatest literary character which France produced in the last
, the greatest
literary character which France produced in the last century, was born at Paris, February 20, 1694. His father,
Francis Arouet, was “ancien notaire du Chatelet,
” and
treasurer of the chamber of accounts; his mother, MaryMargaret Daumart. At the birth of this extraordinary
man, who lived to the age of eighty-five years and some
months, there was little probability of his being ‘reared,
and for a considerable time he continued remarkably feeble.
In his earliest years he displayed a ready wit and a sprightly
imagination: and, as he said of himself, made verses before he was out of his cradle. He was educated under Father Por6, in the college of Louis the Great; and such
was his proficiency, that many of his essays are now existing, which, though written when he was between twelve and
fourteen, shew no marks of infancy. The famous Ninon
de l’Enclos, to whom this ingenious boy was introduced,
left him a legacy of 2000 livres to buy him a library. Having been sent to the equity-schools on his quitting college,
he was so disgusted with the dryness of the law, that he devoted himself entirely to the Muses. He was admitted into
the company of the abb< Chaulieu, the marquis de la Fare,
the duke de Sully, the grand prior of Vendo;ne, marshal
Villars, and the chevalier du Bouillon; and caught from
them that easy taste and delicate humour which distinguished the court of Louis XIV. Voltaire had early imbibed a
turn for satire; and, for some philippics against the government, was imprisoned almost a year in the Bastile. He
had before this period produced the tragedy of “Oedipus,
”
which was represented in 1718 with great success; and the
duke of Orleans, happening to see it performed, was so
delighted, that he obtained his release from prison. The
poet waiting on the duke to return thanks: “Be wise,
”
said the duke, “and I will take care of you.
” “I am infinitely obliged,
” replied the young man; “but I intreat
your royal highness not to trouble yourself any farther
about my lodging or board.
” His father, whose ardent
wish it was that the son should have been an advocate, was
present at one of the representations of the new tragedy:
he was affected, even to tears, embraced his son amidst the
felicitations of the ladies of the court, and never more, from
that time, expressed a wish that he should become a
lawyer. About 1720, he went to Brussels with Madam de
Rupelmonde. The celebrated Rousseau being then in
that city, the two poets met, and soon conceived an unconquerable aversion for each other. Voltaire said one
day to Rousseau, who was shewing him “An Ode to Posterity,
” “This is a letter which will never reach the place
of its address.
” Another time, Voltaire, having read a satire which Rousseau thought very indifferent, was advised
to suppress it, lest it should be imagined that he “had
lost his abilities, and preserved only his virulence.
” Such
mutual reproaches soon inflamed two hearts already sufficiently estranged. Voltaire, on his return to Paris, produced, in 1722, his tragedy of “Mariamne,
” without success. His “Artemira
” had experienced the same fate
in Henriade.
” King George I. and particularly the
princess of Wales (afterwards queen Caroline) distinguished
him by their protection, and obtained for him a great number of subscriptions. This laid the foundation of a fortune,
which was afterwards considerably increased by the sale of
his writings, by the munificence of princes, by commerce,
by a habit of regularity, and by an ceconomy bordering on
avarice, which he did not shake off till near the end of his
life. On his return to France, in 1728, he placed the
money he carried with him from England into a lottery established by M. Desforts, comptroller-general of the finances;
he engaged deeply, and was successful. The speculations
of finance, however, did not check his attachment to the
belles lettres, his darling passion. In 1730, he published
“Brutus,
” the most nervous of all his tragedies, which was
more applauded by the judges of good writing than by the
spectators. The first wits of the time, Fontenelle, La
Motte, and others, advised him to give up the drama, as
not being his proper forte. He answered them by publishing “Zara,
” the most affecting, perhaps, of all his tragedies. His “Lettres Philosophiques,
” abounding in bold
expressions and indecent witticisms against religion, having been burnt by a decree of the parliament of Paris, and
a warrant being issued for apprehending the author in 1733,
Voltaire very prudently withdrew; and was sheltered by the
marchioness du Chatelet, in her castle of Cirey, on the
borders of Champagne and Lorraine, who entered with
him on the study of the “System
” of Leibnitz, and the
“Principia
” of Newton. A gallery was built, in which
Voltaire formed a good collection of natural history, and
made a great many experiments on light and electricity.
He laboured in the mean time on his “Elements of the
Newtonian Philosophy,
” then totally unknown in France,
and which the numerous admirers of Des Cartes were very
little desirous should be known. In the midst of these philosophic pursuits, he produced the tragedy of “Alzira.
”
He was now in the meridian of his age and genius, as was
evident from the tragedy of “Mahomet,
” first acted in,
procureur general
”
as a performance offensive to religion and the author, by
order of cardinal Fleury, withdrew it from the stage. “Merope,
” played two years after, The Princess of Navarre.
” He was
appointed a gentleman of the bed-chamber in ordinary,
and historiographer of France. The latter office had, till
his time, been almost a sinecure; but Voltaire, who had
written, under the direction of the count d'Argenson, the
“History of the War of 1741,
” was employed by that
minister in many important negociations from 1745 to 1747;
the project of invading England in 1746 was attributed to
him and he drew up the king ofFrance’s manifesto in favour
of the pretender. He had frequently attempted to gain admittance into the academy of sciences, but could not obtain
his wish till 1746 , when he was the first who broke through
the absurd custom of filling an inaugural speech with the
fulsome adulation of Richelieu; an example soon followed
by other academicians. From, the satires occasioned by
this innovation he felt so much uneasiness, that he was glad
to retire with the marchioness du Chateletto Luneville, in
the neighbourhood of king Stanislaus. The marchioness
dying in 1749, Voltaire returned to Paris, where his stay
was but short* Though he had many admirers, he was perpetually complaining of a cabal combined to filch from him
that glory of which he was insatiable. “The jealousy and
manoeuvres of a court,
” he would say, “are the subject of
conversation; there is more of them among the literati.
”
His friends and relations endeavoured in vain to relieve
his anxiety, by lavishing commendations on him, and by
exaggerating his success. He imagined he should find in
a foreign country a greater degree of applause, tranquillity,
and reward, and augment at the same time both his fortune
and reputation, which were already very considerable.
The king of Prussia, who had repeatedly invited him to
his court, and who would have given any thing to have got
him away from Silesia, attached him at last to his person
by a pension of 22,000 livres, and the hope of farther favour . From the particular respect that was paid to him,
his time was now spent in the most agreeable manner; his
apartments were under those of the king, whom he was
allowed to visit at stated hours, to read with him the best
works of either ancient or modern authors, and to assist his
majesty in the literary productions by which he relieved
the cares of government. But this happiness was soon at
an end; and Voltaire saw, to his mortification, when it was
too late, that, where a man is sufficiently rich to be master
of himself, neither his liberty, his family, nor his country,
should be sacrificed for a pension. A dispute which our
poet had with Manpertuis, the president of the academy
at Berlin, was followed by disgrace . It has been said
that the king of Prussia dismissed him with this reproof:
“I do not drive you away, because I called you hither; I
do not take away your pension, because I have given it to
you; I only forbid you my presence.
” Not a word of this
is true; the fact is, that he sent to the king the key of his
office as chamberlain, and the cross of the order of merit,
with these verses: